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scented-morker · 2 months ago

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Wearing Enhypen’s clothes

Enha x implied fem reader, established relationship, 945 words (AGAIN), fluffff, jungwons is longer than everyone else’s😬

Heeseung

He is the perpetrator.

Like as soon as you walk in the door he shoves his hoodie onto you

It’s not cute either— your arms get stuck and your hair is messed up and staticky everywhere

But as soon as it’s on he pulls the hood down and looks at you with such a lovesick look even though you look like a gremlin

Every time you stay over he makes you wear his clothes because he just thinks you look so cute

And since his shirts/hoodies are too big on you it makes it easier to sneak his hands up them to hold your bare waist which is his favorite way to cuddle 😔

Jay

At first you were just so impressed with his style that you wanted to be like him 🥺

He though it was so cute when you walked out in one of the outfits he had posted a picture in one day and been like “how do you manage to make this look good 😭”

“Well for starters, the clothes actually fit me” he laughs and ruffles your hair

He likes to get matching outfits so you don’t always have to steal much of his stuff since you probably have a match

But you always end up stealing his accessories

The amount of times he’s complimented your necklace only to realize it was his 😐

You’re lucky he loves you

Likes when you slide his rings onto your fingers while you’re playing with his hands 🥰

Jake

THE KING OF SHARING CLOTHES

He will give you anything that you want from his closet, no questions asked

He loves trying to sneakily add articles of his clothing to your outfits

Like “hey what if you added- I don’t know- a flannel around your waist? Actually look, I’ve already go one right here. Let me put it on you.”

He loves coming home and seeing you in his hoodies or flannels (especially when they’re so long it looks like you aren’t wearing pants 😭)

Refers to his new purchases as “our new jacket” or will text you and ask “do you like this?”

And when you tell him it’s a mens shirt so you wouldn’t wear it he goes “actually, it’s a jake shirt, which means it’s a yn shirt.”

Sunghoon

He’s one to act like he doesn’t like it

But one time when you told him you were cold and he said “sounds like a you problem” you threatened to go get one of the other boys’ hoodie and he got so pouty and mad 😭

Now he always brings an extra one of HIS hoodies whenever you hang out because he doesn’t want you to get it from someone else

Also the type to show up at your house, see your collection of his clothes and tease you about it but then not take them back

And if you EVER tell him you need another one bc the ones you have don’t smell like him anymore—

He’s gonna need three to four business days to recover from that

Sunoo

Another one to refer to his closet as “our closet”

He always asks you to wear his stuff

Like you text him to ask what you should wear for your date and he tells you to just wear anything over and he’d give you something of his to wear

Sharing sweaters 🥺

Like little grandpa sweaters that you thrift somewhere and you guys share them like it’s the sisterhood of the traveling pants or something and send each other little pictures of where you were wearing it

“Today I wore our sweater to the ice cream shop! The guy in front of me in line ordered mint choco and it made me think of you” 🫶

Jungwon

Listen, he’s seen the romcoms— you’ve made him watch enough of them during movie nights to know that people like wearing their boyfriends clothes

He just had no idea how to offer it

Does he just walk up to you one day and say “here, wear this”? Does he take you to the cold section of the grocery store until you shiver and then give it to you?

HE DOESNT KNOW!!!

But one day you two come home from one of your dates and decide to just chill in his bed

Which is cool, except you had dressed a little nicer for the date and your outfit wasn’t exactly made for comfort

“Hey won, do you think I could borrow something to change into? My outfit isn’t very comfy.”

He scolds you at first for not wearing something you’re comfortable in because he’s gonna think you look beautiful no matter what you wear, but eventually gives you a tshirt and pair of shorts to change into

Laughs because you look like Adam Sandler

“I thought this was going to be cute but you look really funny”

Riki

Listen, he loves napping

And napping on you is one of his favorite places

So when your stupid pretty shirt was scratching against his face, Riki was very upset

He lets out a big dramatic groan, grabbing one of his hoodies from the floor next to his bed and shoving it onto you so that he can sleep in peace

You’re still wearing it when he wakes up, and earlier he was too tired to be embarassed but now he realizes what he did and gets a little red

“Thanks for the hoodie ki,” you tease him, but still refuse to give it back when he asks

“Well if you hate it that much you can take it off.”

“Never!! This is mine now!”

Cue him chasing you around to try and get it back

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soft-auras · 2 years ago

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i won at the thrift today i found some actual vintage and y2k skirts and shorts and a cute knitted cardigan

#my local thrift stores are full of fast fashion these days #but i got lucky today!#arbitrary thoughts

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heylinfanclub · 2 years ago

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No vape this week. I’m going to be a mooch on my new stoner friend and ask if he wants to share hmph.

#me.#420.#(some days I think if I didn’t buy vapes I’d probably save significant money #(that’s $30 a week. $15 if I’m lucky. but that’s…..#(that’s a new shirt n pants from the thrift store easy pff #(or like. more food #(sigh. but. it is. verifiably a way I cope.#(it makes it easier to ignore being hungry or a lack of prizes for surviving #(whiiicchh….. probably isn’t healthy sighs #(tolerance break for the better #(if I had a job it’d be easier cause I’m too RULESY to ever consider going to work high #(so it creates a lovely barrier of time where I don’t use weed and therefore I save money #(and make money #(grhhh I need a job weeps #(saw a video like ‘83% of autistic adults WITH COLLEGE DEGREES are unemployed’#(god bless I’m not odd for not having a job but I’d like to be the 17%

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sleeplessdreamer14 · 7 months ago

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𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓅𝒾𝑒𝒸𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊

fandom: my hero academia

relationship: tenya iida x reader

summary: you left your jacket in iida’s room.

contains: mutual pining, unresolved romantic tension, fluff, opposites attract, thrifted clothes, like two lines of dialogue

a/n: @thecutestgrotto divider credit goes to

Study sessions hadn’t always been a thing between you and Iida, not until after moving into the dorms. You just lived too far apart to meet up every week like you did now, every Friday to be exact.

Iida had offered to tutor you earlier in the school year, but you always turned him down, wanting to at least try and figure things out on your own. But after you began to live in the same building, you finally accepted his offer and worked out a schedule for the two of you to meet up in the afternoon and go over any material either of you had trouble with.

Eventually, those study sessions began to evolve into hang outs with studying sprinkled in, switching between his room and yours every week. Despite you two having very different tastes in room decor, it look little time for you to grow comfortable in each other’s environments. You quickly learned his organization system and he gradually learned to just leave your clutter be… mostly.

This week’s study meeting was held in Iida’s dorm room, and when you had first walked through the door, you were sporting your iconic letterman jacket which you had gotten from a thrift shop not too long ago. It had become routine for you and your mom to stop by the thrift store when you would spend her days off work together.

Anyway, it wasn’t until about an hour after you had left to start turning in for the night that Iida realized you had left your jacket behind, in a small bundle on the floor near the foot of his bed. He was surprised that it took him this long to notice, considering he had actually watched you walk- or more rush out the door after you realized how late it had gotten. You had taken it off in the middle of studying since the fabric retained heat and you were getting a little warmer than you would have preferred, so he supposed that you must have been so eager to go shower and get to sleep at a somewhat decent hour that you simply forgot.

Iida’s initial idea was to stop by your dorm room to give it back to you, but it was already pretty late and he knew that you tended to lock your door at night. Though he supposed he could simply text you, but you were probably already asleep, or at least drifting off, so he didn’t want to disturb you. It had been a long week and you needed the rest.

So he decided that he would simply return it to you tomorrow morning when he saw you again. And it definitely wasn’t because over the past few weeks, the more time that Tenya spent with you, the more it felt as though your study sessions ended too early and he just wanted to hold onto this piece of you for as long as he could. Of course not.

And that’s why he was lying on his back in the dark, holding the piece of clothing to his chest while staring up and the ceiling with nothing but the low hum of the air conditioner and muffled outside noises to fill the silence.

If he were being honest, Iida loved this jacket. Because despite it being previously owned, it was so uniquely yours. He could still remember the day you returned to the dorms with a skip in your step as you showed off your new duds, talking about how lucky you were to find it right at the front of the shop and have it fit you just right. Coincidentally, it even had the first letter of your surname on the front. There were a lot of things that Tenya had grown to appreciate thanks to you.

Like your piercings. While Tenya previously found them impractical and even a bit unprofessional, he eventually grew to like how they looked on you, especially after you had invited him to go with you to get your most recent one.

And the rings you wore every day, two on your left and one on your right. Honestly, he kind of just liked your hands. Iida had briefly held your hand a couple times before, to help you stand up or when one of you was leading the other somewhere. He wished he could do that more.

Turning over on his side, Iida closed his eyes and lightly tightened his hold on your jacket as his heart drummed in his ears.

No. Don’t do it. Don’t do it, don’t you dare do it.

But he did. Tenya brought the jacket closer to his face and inhaled slowly. Yep, there it was; your natural scent with hints of your shampoo around the back of the collar. It was nice, comforting. Sometimes when he went to bed after your study sessions, he could find faint traces of your smell on his pillow or covers of you had been resting there while working.

Tenya wished he could have more than this. More of you, and for longer. But if this was all he could have, then he could be content with that.

The following morning, Iida folded up your jacket before going to return it to you. While part of him felt a little disappointed at first about having to give it back to you, that feeling was overpowered by the smile on your face when he did. You slipped your jacket on and tucked your hands into the pockets, thanking Iida.

“Don’t worry, it’s no trouble at all.” he replied, hoping that the blush in his face wasn’t too obvious. It really did look perfect on you.

As you went your separate ways, you gently rubbed your arms and took a deep breath in, your face flushing a subtle pink as you picked up faint traces of Tenya’s scent. Looking back over your shoulder in his direction, you chuckled softly as you stared at him as he engaged in conversation with some of your other classmates, blissfully unaware of that fact that-

“You totally left it in his room on purpose, didn’t you?” Mina whispered as she approached you, a Cheshire Cat grin spread across her face as she quirked an eyebrow at you. You said nothing, only rolling your eyes and lightly shoving her by the shoulder, earning a giggle. You knew that she could see the answer in your face.

Maybe you did, but he didn’t need to know that.

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rauspberries · 8 days ago

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still a friend. - s.r.

sure hope it was one hell of a kiss, my friend.

spencer reid x bau liasion!reader.

summary: after your new boyfriend turns out to a murderer, spencer will do anything in his power to help you smile again.

tags: afab reader, sunshine x sunshine, mentions of guns, kidnapping, murder & other themes present in criminal minds, panic attack, hurt/comfort, forced proximity that’s not forced at all, i like to imagine it as later seasons reid [however there's no mention of prison arc], still a friend by the backseat lovers

word count: 3.1k

notes: ok hear me out. think about the episode 'lucky' and the episode 'penelope.' that's what i'm going for here. this is my first ever time writing spencer. it took me days. free me.

hey @reidswrld

If you closed your eyes tight enough, you felt like you were still there. Cold metal pressed against your temple, harsh words in your ears, the pull of rope against your wrists. Despite the familiarity of your home, decorated in low lights and multiple potted plants that were loved like your own children, you had been afraid. He had turned it into a place of fear, a spot for nothing but bad memories and bloodstains in your carpet.

It had been almost three weeks since your team had pushed into your apartment, only to be met with the sight of you bound to your dining room chairs, your boyfriend of only a couple weeks holding a handgun to your head. You loved those chairs, and had told the whole team about them right after you had purchased them. They were thrifted, hand-carved by an artist you never had the pleasure to meet. Shame that you’d never be able to look at them the same anymore.

Your boyfriend had been an idiot. A psychotic one, but an idiot all the same. He had left too much evidence behind with his three victims, making it too easy for your team to profile him and pick him out of their list of names. Once you had accidentally let it slip that the BAU was on the tail of their suspect, you had become a problem, needing to be eliminated. So he had tried.

You had worked as a liaison for long enough to learn a few tells of body language, or the original signs of psychopathic behavior. Despite this, you had missed all of them when it came to him. You had been too excited to find someone that could handle your busy and erratic schedule, someone that loved you for you, something that was rare in this day and age. You had even let his passive-aggressive demeanor slide, along with the comments that always tended to sting somewhere deep inside.

After he had been taken down by Morgan and Hotch, you’d wanted out of your apartment as soon as possible. JJ and Garcia had packed up your stuff based off of a small list you provided them once your hands and voice had stopped shaking. They had whispered in your presence, keeping secrets about the case to each other and asking if you were okay. They hadn’t needed to whisper – your ears hadn’t stopped ringing.

For a while, you stayed in a hotel, curled in the cool sheets that smelled like nothing as you stared at the plain walls, so different from the house you had turned into a home with wallpaper and pretty colors. For a while, you chastised yourself for not getting over it faster. You thought about how you should be stronger in times like these, especially with everything you saw on a daily basis in your job as the BAU unit’s liaison. Unfortunately, it was a lot easier to compartmentalize when it wasn’t happening directly to you.

You weren’t like everyone else on your team, you couldn’t just act like these things didn’t happen.

You tried to trick your brain into producing serotonin. You attempted to shower every morning, eat three meals, even exercise in the seclusion of your hotel room. But every shower ended with you staring blankly at the wall, every meal went untouched, and once you were on the ground, you couldn’t get back up.

As normal protocol, you were given a minimum of three weeks of leave in the wake of the event. For the first week, everyone took turns checking on you. Penelope brought you fun-colored stress toys that collected dust on the side table, while Emily and JJ sat with you to chat about anything but what had happened.

And Spencer? Spencer brought you company. He sat at the desk chair in the corner, long legs stretched out as he babbled about anything and everything. Sometimes, he sat there quietly, only speaking up to ask you if you knew the answer to a certain crossword question. Usually, it was something easy, something he already knew. Like, a passionate declaration, like in marriage vows – the answer was too obviously avowal.

Each time he visited, he left a book for you, annotations directed towards you scribbled in the margins and tabs marking the parts he thought you’d like best. The first book, Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen, had a scrawl on the author’s dedication page, with Reid noting both opinions and facts about the book. You felt your lips twitch with the ghost of a smile as you read the definitions of both of the words in the titles and how they were related to the actual book, as you read the words and the facts the doctor had written in the blank spaces.

After a week of Spencer stopping by every day before and after work, you gave him the extra keycard to your room that you had been given when you checked in. A lot of the time you didn’t have the energy to crawl out of your bed, so it made it easier for you. Despite having the key card, he still always knocked, waiting on some type of verbal sign before actually opening the door and stepping in.

One night, he stopped by your hotel room, a take-out bag looped over his forearm as he rustled in his bag for the keycard. Once it was curled between his palm and fingers, he lightly rapped on the door, leaning his head closer to it to listen for your voice calling for him to come in. His brow furrowed when he was only met with the sound of your room’s AC unit and the faint sniffles it attempted to cover.

Immediately, he had bursted into your room after sliding the key card into the slot above the knob, long legs getting him to your bedside as soon as possible. His eyes had softened as he took in the sight of you sitting up, arms laced around your knees, which were pulled up to your chest defensively. Your eyes were dark, sullen, the whites of them red with irritation from pushing away tears. Even your breathing was erratic, chest rising and falling quickly until it sounded like wheezing.

Spencer had pulled you practically into his lap, your fingers gripping at the soft material of his sweater as his large hand ran up and down the expanse of your back. He had murmured soft words that didn’t quite register to you, however were soothing all the same, as he pressed your hand to his chest, letting you feel the steady beat of his heart.

Once you had finally been soothed properly, your breathing evening out as his hand slowed until it lay still on your spine, you explained to him that you had been woken by a nightmare, the same one that had been playing through your head for the past two weeks. Immediately, he insisted that you stay at his apartment. As if proving it would help steer your decision towards a “yes,” he spilled out facts about processing traumas, like how talking to people and reminding yourself of pleasant hobbies, along with being in a familiar place, would help with recovery.

Which is how you ended up curled up on his couch, fingers tracing the pages of the book in your lap. You had been picking through all of Jane Austen’s books since you had started sleeping on his couch, with Emma being your pick of the week. Spencer hadn’t gotten to annotating this one yet, too busy with a new case that had just come in, so you had plucked a pen off of his desk, scribbling notes just like he usually did. It didn’t matter much, since you tended to spill your opinion to him the minute he stepped through the door, however it kept your brain occupied.

Your head raises as you recognize the sound of his key in the lock, looking up and over your shoulder just as it opened. “Welcome home. I’m almost done with Emma. It’s quite amusing, less factual, so I’m not sure if you’ll like it, but it’s good.” You glance back down at the pages as you stick a receipt in the fold of the book, shutting it before continuing. “It’s about a matchmaker named Emma. She thinks she’s the best at it, especially because she set up the governess and a wealthy widower, but she ends up missing all of the signs that the men she’s matching are into her.”

As you speak, Spencer takes his satchel off, laying it on the armchair near the front door before slowly making his way towards his couch. A smile pulls at his lips as his fingers work to undo the buttons on his wrists, brow raising slightly. “You have been reading quite a bit since you settled in here.”

A soft huff leaves your nose as you settle back into the cushions, watching as he perches himself up onto the back of the leather couch. It feels wrong to be so comfortable in an apartment that’s not your own, but it’s almost impossible to not feel soothed by the dark wood that makes up his desk and bookshelves, which were stacked with books upon books of all different genres. The verdun color of the walls alongside the sets of patterned couch pillows and comfortable throw blankets were ten times better than the impersonable decorations of the hotel room you had lived in for two weeks.

“Well, you don’t have a TV, and you can’t play chess by yourself.” There’s a pause, and then you speak again. “Unless you’re you. And I’m not,” you add, pulling your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them.

He folds the edges of his sleeves back towards himself, pushing up the fabric up to his elbows, revealing his forearms slowly. “Playing chess by yourself is actually the best way to learn how to play and hone your skills. Many professional chess players, such as Bobby Fischer, often play chess alone. It helps you learn the game and discover what type of player you are. It gives you more time to focus on your moves so that, in an actual chess match, you don’t run out of time before you know what to do.”

You toss the ballpoint pen in your hands at his chest, huffing in mock irritation as he easily catches it and tosses it back to you. “Good thing I’m not looking to switch career paths anytime soon, hm?” Your brow quirks slightly, your amusement apparent only in that little movement.

“That it is.” He responds, still holding a soft smile as his coffee-colored eyes soften around the corners edges. His gaze averts downwards at his fingers as he starts to tug on them, growing sheepish. “How have you been?”

Despite the vagueness and normalcy of the question, you immediately know what he’s referring to, suddenly finding the loose threads on the blanket over your lap very interesting. “Better,” you admit, seeing no reason to lie. “The nightmares aren’t as bad as they were back at the hotel, but they’re not gone. The panic comes and goes.”

Slowly, like he’s afraid he’ll spook you, he stands back up, moving around the couch before settling a cushion away from you. He leans back against the arm of the couch as he starts working at loosening his tie, pulling it over his head before laying it on his coffee table. “Do you want to talk about it? All aspects of trauma can be lessened by communicating it to a trusted individual. Not necessarily go through it again, like cognitive interviews, but speaking more about the depth of it. How you felt, why you still feel it even after that, the direct cause of feeling like you’re still there.”

Just like that, you’re setting your book aside, knees pulling up to your chest in an attempt to shy away. It’s funny how you can know body language so well and yet not stop yourself from giving yourself away with it. Knees to chest meant a multitude of things, such as defensive posture or an intense interest in wanting to leave conversations or situations. You had to look at the situation as a whole to figure out the exact reason, or the other cues. Hunched back and averted eye contact usually indicated sadness, fear or insecurity. The rub of your own hand against your arm indicated self-soothing. It was all about the context.

Spencer notices quickly, reaching out to brush his fingertips against your kneecap. Despite the soft touch, he doesn’t speak, lips pressing in a harder line as he simply gazes at you. He’s waiting for you to speak, to take in whatever information you’ll give him.

Looking into his eyes, you realize why people call them ‘puppy dog eyes.’ Glancing into them, you’re ready to spill your guts about just about everything. You’re tempted to tell him about the candy bar you stole when you were in sixth grade, or when you tripped someone in the high school hallway because they kept shoving into you.

“I thought he liked me.” You mumble once you realize you had just been staring at him for the past few moments, plucking at the throw blanket again as you avert your gaze. “But looking back, he was a bit mean. He’d always make these little comments.” You clear your throat as you glance towards the ceiling, blinking quickly to try and avoid the sting of tears. “Like ‘didn’t you wear that shirt yesterday,’ or ‘sure you don’t want to change’?”

As you speak, Spencer’s hand moves to cup your entire kneecap, thumb brushing against the soft spot in the middle. His touch is warm, heating up the skin underneath your sweatpants. He can practically see the words on the edge of your tongue, allowing you to continue.

Your focus doesn’t stray from the hand on your knee as you let the words fall out. “He’d knocked on my door. It was normal. Stepped inside, let me kiss him on the cheek. Thinking about it makes me want to gag.” One of your hands lifts to touch your fingers against your mouth, tracing the line of your lips as you remember the feel.

“You can feel the change in the room when someone goes from good to bad. I didn’t think it’d be like the movies and shows, where they describe their eyes as darkening or their smile as wicked, but it is. The energy changes. It feels like slow motion.”

Your breathing picks up as you speak. Spencer’s quick to notice it, body leaning closer towards you, like he’s prepared to catch you if you fall. Your lips part in an attempt to speak again, but the words are swallowed by a soft sob. Before you know it, you’re tumbling down a hill, heart beating faster and breathing growing quicker.

Memories, the science that comes along with them, are all one hell of a thing. Everything about them has an effect on the brain. Things like sounds, smells, textures, they’re connected to the memories. Meaning if you think about them, if you feel them, you end up right back where you were at that time and place. Like how sunshine on your skin reminds you of days at the park as a young kid, or how the smell of flowers brings you back to the farmer’s market on a Sunday after you just moved to DC.

Thinking about what led up to you being tied up to the chair, you can feel it. The icy chill of fear that cascaded over your back, the dread that sunk deep in your stomach, even the goosebumps that traveled up your arm. They’re all there. It’s like it’s happening again.

Your vision blurs around the edges as you struggle to take in air, hand grasping at Spencer’s for any type of support. You’re aware of what’s happening, but you cannot stop it, not even as you try to take in air into your nose and out through your mouth. His voice echoes in your head, but it morphs into something different, something distorted.

You’re only brought out of your panic by the feeling of lips on yours.

Your eyes widen at the shock of it, chest still heaving as your breath evens out. Your hand still clutches at Spencer’s as you feel your entire body relax, allowing yourself the comfort of kissing him back.

After your entire body has relaxed, your chest no longer hurting with the strain of lost breath, Spencer pulls away. His eyes are slightly wide as he looks at you, studying your face for any signs of being uncomfortable. “I’m sorry. Uhm.” He clears his throat, leaning away from you as he runs his hands through his hair. “Uh, kissing. It releases so-called happy chemicals, such as oxytocin and serotonin, tricking your brain into leaving the panic behind. It also helps you steady your breathing. Nothing else was working so, uh…”

As he trails off, you reach out to grab his hand again, giving it a soft squeeze. “Thank you.” It’s not meant to be a reassurance, but it's close enough.

You watch as the panic slowly leaves his eyes, settling into only a soft worry, although his cheeks are still dusted with a light shade of pink. “You’re welcome,” he responds bashfully, eyes still looking down at his lap.

A soft laugh leaves your lips as you reach up to brush your tears away, leaning back into the couch again. After a moment of silence, you roll your lips into your mouth before speaking. “Can we go see a movie?”

Spencer’s brows raise in surprise, the lines on his forehead from focusing so much prominent. “Like, at a theater? Are you sure?” He’s still tugging at his fingers as he speaks, head tilting slightly as he assesses all of your body language.

You smile sheepishly at him, body slowly uncurling. “Yeah. I have a tough BAU agent to protect me, don’t I?”

He smiles brightly at that, eyes softening as he glances back up at your face. “That you do.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #elliott recs

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shouyuus · 1 month ago

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oh my god I know you only posted that mechanic vi thing 6 hours ago but PAPA ME WANT MORE MOVIE 🤬🤬🤬 you have GYAT to extend it by like vi introducing us to vander or like idk like im tweaking like

🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

dont worry anon im right there with you ive spent nearly my entire day just maladaptively daydreaming about mechanic!vi

sfw; car mechanic!vi cinimatic universe continuation of this hc post

it is not the most formal of introductions -- but by the time you make it downstairs to the kitchen, swimming in one of vi's thrifted band tees and jogging shorts, tamping down your hair, vander's already on his second cup of coffee.

"well, well, if it ain't the red corvette with the busted radiator," vander says, grinning wide as you fight the urge to duck behind vi like an antisocial child.

"h-hi -- morning..." you mumble, even as vi chuckles and pours you a glass of orange juice.

"heard you guys went to jericho's diner last night," vander says, looking between you and vi as you slip onto one of the mis-matched bar stools sat against the tiny kitchen island.

"yeah! the banana split almost did me in though," you say, reaching for the tall glass of juice.

vander laughs, "yeah, those are famously impossible to finish, though from what i heard, you made a very diligent effort." he shoots you a wink even as vi elbows him in the side.

"i -- we --" you stutter, your cheeks flooding with color. vi rolls her eyes and scoops two perfectly poached eggs out of a pot, placing them on two slices of toast.

you blink as vander nudges the salt and pepper shakers towards you.

"how... how'dyou know i like my eggs poached?" you ask, looking between vi and vander. they share a knowing look; vi shrugs, grinning.

"lucky guess."

you tuck into the eggs and toast, humming happily around the golden yolk as it bursts in your mouth. vi watches you with soft eyes and vander's smile stretches wide as he leans against the counter.

"so. seems like your daddy's got good taste," he says, a soft laugh rumbling through him, deep and thick as thunder. you glance up, cocking your head. vander puts his coffee mug in the sink.

"he might not remember me but couple years ago, he brought over the most beautiful gullwing -- mercedes, from the 50's --"

"oh yeah!" vi says, her eyes brightening as she rinses out the breakfast things "that was a sick car."

vander nods, humming, "one o'the first luxury cars post-war... and one of my personal favorites. some people say it's a bit tacky but --" he shrugs, laughing, "i've always had a soft spot for it"

vi scoffs, "better than all the db5's we see people bring in."

vander laughs then, a loud, uproarious sound. you swallow over another bite of toast and egg, content to watch him and vi banter.

"yeah, but you know why people like it --"

vi sighs, her eyes rolling so hard they might fall out of their sockets as she replies, "the james bond car, yeah yeah, whatever -- still tacky."

you slice into the second egg and watch as the yolk spills molten gold over the toast.

"that reminds me though, i've gotta order the parts for the crossflow radiator --" vi says, putting the pans in the sink as well, wiping off her hands before she rounds the island to lean up against your chair. she slips an arm around your waist, resting her chin on your shoulder.

you load a bite of toast with egg and yolk, sprinkle the top with salt and pepper, holding it out for her to eat. she leans forward, mouth open as you feed the bite to her.

she groans around the bite, nodding appreciatively, even as you reach out to swipe a bite of yolk from the corner of her lip, popping your thumb into your mouth with an indulgent smile.

"'ow'dyou know i'd like more yolk than egg?" she asks, turning to pin you with a look.

you flash her a cheeky grin.

"lucky guess," you parrot her words back at her, setting down your fork.

across the island, vander watches the pair of you with soft eyes and a knowing smile.

"right, well -- i've gotta get to the bar. your uncle silco'll be mad if i --" he breaks off, running a hand through his hair.

vi waves him off, "go, we've got it here."

"text benzo if you need help with the parts --"

"yeah, yeah -- he already sent me the link for where to order the parts," vi answers.

vander chuckles, nodding. he reaches over the island with a large hand.

"it was lovely to meet you," he says, taking your hand and shaking it firmly; his palm is warm and callused, and you feel yourself sinking into the solidness of his touch even as he pulls away.

"keep an eye on 'er for me, wouldjya?" he says, winking, jerking his chin towards vi. you giggle, nodding your head.

"sure, i'll try."

"and you make sure to treat her and her car well, y'got that?" he turns his gaze towards vi, who blushes, a scowl knitting her brows as she sighs.

"what'dyou think i'm trying to do -- geez --" she huffs.

vander laughs, a big, booming, belly-full sound.

"that's my girl," he says, flashing you and vi one more wink before ducking out the garage door.

vi sighs, "sorry, i know he can be a lot..."

you smile, shaking your head, "he reminds me of you."

vi's cheeks darken as she looks you over, her eyes startlingly bright in the mid-morning light, her hair a blaze of pink as the sunrise paints her shades of orange and gold.

"he -- he's a good dad..." vi says, finally, her voice a bit rough.

you nod, dabbing at your lips with a napkin.

"he is. and you're a good daughter."

vi swallows, tugging you towards her till she's slotted between your legs. you, poised on the edge of the bar stool, your arms looped around her shoulders, her palms laid flat against your thighs, inching up beneath the hem of her jogging shorts.

"y'know sweets, you can't just say shit like that to me --" she murmurs, leaning in just close enough to ghost her words along your lips.

"and not expect me to do something about it..."

your breath hitches, a delicious, gasping sound even as vi digs her nose into the hollow of your throat with a thick groan, pressing her lips to your collarbones.

"v-vi -- the dishes --" you hiss, but vi's already pulling you forward, hoisting you over her hips and carrying you towards the stairs back up to her room, her fingers digging into the meat of your ass as she kicks open her door and lets it slam shut behind her.

"the dishes..." she says, her voice breathy as she sets you down on her bed and crawls over your body, the shape of her caging you beneath her.

she leans down to trail her mouth along the bend of your neck, humming against your skin --

"... will still be there later."

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rafesangelita · 3 months ago

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what do you think would be in each !reader's bags?! <3

₊˚⊹♡ bambi!reader:

the queen of trinkets!! she carries a little sylvanian families’ figurine that reminds her of rafe, two little vials that contain the flowers rafe first picked for her, vanilla lipbalm, her favorite book, a jar full of buttons she swears up and down will come in handy one day (she’s always using them to replace the buttons on rafe’s shirts), change she’s found on the ground, necklace pendant that she lost the chain to, strawberry coin pouch that she ironically doesn’t put to use, earbuds, a little note rafe gave her from when they first started dating, hairbrush, brown floral hair pins, and perfume

₊˚⊹♡ pogue!sweetheart!reader:

lover of all things pink, she carries a pink compact mirror and pressed powder, a small notebook so she could write down orders for anyone who might ask, mini pink hair brush, strawberry shortcake flavored lip gloss (rafe’s personal fave), cardholder that rafe gifted her, cable lock to her camper (rafe is getting the actual lock on her door replaced soon), chocolate macaroon coin pouch she bought from the thrift, pink hairclips, sparkly nail polish, individually wrapped cookies that she gives out (despite rafe eating most of them), silver locket with a picture of her and rafe together <3, a rosary even though she’s not religious she keeps it bc the church she donated baked goods to gave it to her, a dollar folded in the shape of a heart that rafe made for her, vanilla perfume, and her favorite blush

₊˚⊹♡ kook!sweetheart!reader:

our chanel girly <3 she carries a digital camera that rafe can never escape from (he loves it), rhode lip treatment is a must have, small notebook so she could journal wherever she is (and repeatedly write rafe’s name in cursive with a heart at the end), black chanel headband that rafe randomly surprised her with, small makeup bag with all of her essentials, cuticle oil and hand cream so her mani’s always look fresh, polaroid of rafe bc she loves him soooo much, reading glasses, dior keychain (rafe got ‘sweetheart’ engraved on the back), bobby pins because she NEVER has a hair out of place, diy queen has a little altoids box wallet, mascara of course, and a hair bow!

₊˚⊹♡ farmer’s!daughter!reader:

this firecracker carries a pack of marlboro reds (they belong to rafe), her and rafe’s love letters when they had to hide their relationship from her daddy, heart shaped sunglasses of course, a vintage camera that she has no idea how the thing still works, her signature red lipstick, her red apple mascara that she swears by, peppermints because she’s an old soul at heart, a little mixtape that both her and rafe made together so they have something to listen to when they go on their evening drives, red nail polish, bottle caps from her and rafe’s first date, a multi-purpose pocket knife (she can never be too prepared), a wallet that’s older than her, cherry cola lipgloss, a pocket watch her dad gave to her, red gingham hair bow, her fav lana del rey cd (rafe also knows the lyrics word for word), and a box of matches.

₊˚⊹♡ latina!kook!reader:

our sweet angelita carries body glitter (which always ends up rubbing off on rafe), tropical scented perfume, floral hair clips, ALWAYS keeps a pair of sandals to change into when her heels become insufferable, a gifted dior wallet from rafe <3, a seashell that rafe picked up for her, fruity lipgloss, shimmery tanning oil and sunscreen (for rafe mainly lol), traditional fan, pink dior sunglasses, dior highlighter palette, various jewelry, SOMETIMES she’ll pack fruit for her and rafe to snack on when they on an impromptu beach date..

₊˚⊹♡ bitchy!kook!reader:

kildare’s very own regina george carries a powder puff, her signature eyeshadow palette, victoria’s secret card (rafe keeps it loaded at all times), vivienne westwood lighter (for when her and rafe have their little smoke sessions), poison dior perfume that rafe goes absolutely crazy for, dior lip oil, her lucky vintage chanel charm bracelet, touchland hand sanitizer, hair clips, black compact mirror, and a mini makeup bag.

₊˚⊹♡ bitchy!pogue!reader:

this mcbling queen carries her childhood ipod with all of the early 2000’s hits downloaded on it, some earbuds, a flip phone that she uses as her ‘work cell’ (rafe helped her bedazzle it), a hello kitty mirror so she could make sure her makeup is always looking fresh, hello kitty credit card (courtesy of rafe, of course), a stack of her own cash, fluffy tiara she keeps forgetting to take out of her purse, rhinestones she uses as body stickers, pink digital camera (rafe takes all of her insta pics with it), sunglasses she found at the thrift, a vape (she’s just a girl), sparkly lipgloss, and her favorite lashes.

₊˚⊹♡ sheep!reader:

the gentlest thing on kildare island carries a crochet case that she made by herself (she crochets on the golf cart while rafe and topper play on the course), a precious moments figurine, a small tub of cookies for the kids, lemon scented hand cream, patches that she still needs to sew on a pair of jeans, an envelope with rafe’s recent love letter (he writes them everyday and sends them through the mail to be ‘extra’ romantic), a calico critter that was gifted to you from one of the kids at the daycare center you volunteered at once, your fav pink teddy bear, homemade hair bow, a sun hat, and a strip of pictures rafe took at the mall.

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alexaloraetheris · 7 months ago

Text

Oh boy, I feel like it's time for a post nobody will like.

We all know clothes are getting worse. Recently I found some jeans I bought in high school, and since I lost weight recently I tried them on and they fit, so I'll be wearing them once we get out of the Hell season.

But I took them and compared them to the most recent pair of jeans I bought, and... Honestly the difference in quality is so fucking stark it made me want to give up on life. The jeans I wore in high school have gone through everything. I'm talking half of Europe here, because one of our teachers was pretty big on school trips everywhere she could get the money for. They've been washed, tumbled, survived an actual car crash and they're still good.

The most recent pair I machine-washed ONCE, everything else was hand-wash only. I babied them to the max because they made my ass look like was on Instagram. Do you know what they look like now?

They're full of fixes like these. They lasted less than a year on their own. I got another decent year out of them SOLELY because I kept fixing them. And fixing them again. The crotch alone I had to fix SEVEN TIMES. I COUNTED.

And these weren't cheap jeans! C&A jeans tend to be around 40$ these days, and I got these for about 30 with a discount. I expected them to last me AT LEAST a few years, because those high school jeans? THEY'RE THE SAME FUCKING BRAND.

Considering this was the quality I was getting for nearly 40$ I figured I might as well get the same quality for 15$ and downloaded SHEIN. I didn't get jeans from them but I got some light, fluttery summer pants in the style that, honestly, I fucking love. I got three pairs for the price of one C&A jeans, and I am aware I will have to baby them even more, because out of the five pairs of pants in total I have bought on SHEIN only ONE is made of the fabric that I might be brave enough to machine wash. And with SHEIN continually getting sued for using sweatshops I probably won't be getting those pants again.

So what to do with that shitfuck situation?

I am insanely lucky my grandma knew how to sew really well and didn't mind me looking over her shoulder as long as I was quiet. I am aware that's not a skill everyone has, but quite frankly? When nobody has any money and even paying big bucks for clothes does not guarantee any kind of quality, and even fucking THRIFT STORES are full of just junk now, I think it's time to face the facts.

You need to learn how to sew.

I'm not talking about sewing your own clothes, though if you can and you have the time and patience, it's probably the best option (good luck finding decent fabric, because we can't even find THAT anymore unless you're ordering from fucking Belgium). I'm talking about fixing up seams and sewing on a patch, little repairs that make your clothes last. It might be junk, but with sewing you can make it last twice as long for the price of a spool of thread.

Now that I've pissed off everyone who is, for some reason, morally opposed to learning how to sew because it's a 'girly hobby' or 'supporting the patriarchy' (a take that left me baffled like nothing else) I'm going to piss off everyone who already knows how to sew.

I recommend getting this little guy.

It's called a stapler sewing machine, for obvious reasons. If I recall correctly, it was invented to fix clothes on the go for fashion shows and/or cosplay. It does only a chain stitch and needs to be pushed manually, but if you need to, like, hem your trousers and you don't want to spend half an hour on doing it manually (and don't already have an actual sewing machine) this is a lifesaver.

Here's a tutorial how it operates:

youtube

Now, why am I recommending this? Because it will only set you back six bucks. I got two right off the bat because I was banking on one not working (and I was right) and so I could use it for spare parts. The one in the video (Spring Come) is the one I have as well, and it's the one that actually works. I can't vouch for any unmarked ones, but the blue one works. It IS a little temperamental, but with a bit of practice it makes things so much easier.

The reason I'm not recommending an electric machine of any kind, even the one that costs 18$, is because, if you're a beginner, then an automatic sewing machine becomes a machine that exponentially speeds up the rate at which you make mistakes, and if it breaks down, good luck fixing it unless you have a dad/uncle/friend who knows his electronics. This thing can be fixed with a screwdriver, and takes the same needles as an ordinary sewing machine.

You can buy a bundle of needles just about anywhere for any price and they'll be decent as long as they're steel, but I would recommend looking for some actual better quality thread. Everywhere else, you can pinch pennies, but the thread itself is what's holding your clothes together, so this should be the part where you're looking for quality instead of price.

Alright, those of you who didn't scroll past with a derisive scoff at my take, I hope I've been helpful.

#sewing #stitching #clothes #Youtube

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