#tips for packing jewelry

[delappdesignsbyl]

Jewelry and Travel: Tips & Tricks

For women who enjoy traveling, you understand the extra work and pain it can take to make sure you have everything you need to look your best on your trip. Picking the outfits and accessories, packing the jewelry, keeping track of all the little pieces at the hotel, etc. Hopefully what I have outlined in this post will make your next trip a little easier and give you some ideas on how to maximize…

[crushmeeren]

Bakugou / Fem Reader ☠

☠ Everyone involved in this fic is aged up/18+.

Warnings; making out, pussy eating, hickies, choking, bit of dirty talk/praise, not so vanilla vaginal sex/anal sex, aftercare.

☠ Master List Link

Katsuki who constantly paints his nails midnight black. Who has piercings adorning his lobes all the way up to the cartilage on both ears. Who decided to add a tragus on the left and a daith on the right because why the fuck not. Who gets an eyebrow piercing. Who exclusively wears black or silver jewelry.

Katsuki who is littered with tattoos. They span across both his arms, his chest, and a few on his legs. Who looks drool worthy with the black and gray ink coloring his skin.

Katsuki who is left handed and takes pride in the fact. Who consistently will rest his calloused right hand on the soft, sensitive skin of your inner thigh whenever he’s driving. Who squeezes too hard when someone cuts him off, the road rage is real with Katsuki.

Katsuki who chooses to specifically listen to Japanese rock and heavy metal at full volume. Who enjoys the breeze during summertime and rolls the windows down in the car anytime he can. Who blasts the music when he drives, if only to force others to “listen to decent fucking music.”

Katsuki who religiously wears all black. Who loves Doc Martens so much you tell him he should marry them. Who wears Vans and Converse, and who has an unbearable amount of SiM band T-shirts. Whenever you steal them he only protests half heartedly.

Katsuki who plays the drums like a prodigy. Who learns your favorite rock songs just so he can play them for you. Who melts your heart with the sweet gesture, plus you think it’s the coolest fucking thing ever to watch him play.

Katsuki who legitimately curses like a sailor. Who seems he says fuck every other word.

Katsuki who introduces you to Eijirou and Denki. The two easily become some of your closest friends, much to Katsuki’s disdain. They’re always at your house and you can’t complain.

Kastuki who flushes the sweetest peachy color all the way to the tips of his ears when you call him Katsuki for the first time.

Katsuki who bakes you any desert you could ever wish for. Who cooks dinner for you just about every night, and packs lunches for you with fruit cut into cute little shapes.

Katsuki who encouraged you to get into fitness in the first place. Who’s been your rock every step of the way. Who loves you no matter what you look like, but wanted to share his passion of working out with you. Who often invites his red headed best friend to tag along.

Katsuki who helped you learn how to love yourself. Who has always been your weight lifting/running buddy, even if you complain about cardio more often than not. Besides, seeing Katsuki in his gym attire, sweating so hard it drips down his jaw, is more than enough of a motivator to work harder.

Katsuki who pushes you outside your comfort zone. Who is stern, but never mean when he’s encouraging you.

Katsuki who’s terrifyingly observant and intuitively knows when you’re getting overstimulated at the grocery store. Who makes haste, leveling anyone in the way the bitchiest look he’s capable of. Who holds your hand and whispers comforting words to help settle your nerves.

Katsuki who falls harder in love with you each day. Who you trust with your life. Who is your best fucking friend, who you say yes to when he proposes. Who is the best dad to the kids you inevitably have. Who is your one and only.

Katsuki who you drive insane when you make out. Who shivers, hard cock pushing into your thigh when you suck on his tongue. Who actually whimpers when you frame his face with your hands, tilting his head slightly to get a better angle when your tongue glides over his.

Katsuki who loves pulling your soft nipples into his mouth one at a time, flicking and tugging gently with his teeth until your nails threaten to scratch his scalp open. Who makes sure you can see his warm tongue swirling, plush lips mouthing until you’re pushing at his forehead.

Katsuki who bites hickies into the underside of your tits. Whose teeth make your skin ache, a dull throb making itself known. Who doesn’t stop there, marking you any place he wants to.

Katsuki whose voice is gravelly, husky when he whispers to you that you’re his needy little bitch. Who assures you you’re his sweet princess in the next moment. Who gives you whiplash from the mixture of praise and degradation, but who knows it pushes you over the edge.

Katsuki who eats your pussy until you see stars. Who eases two fingers inside you, tapping them over your g-spot and licking your clit steadily until your thighs tremble.

Katsuki who gets your pussy drooling so eagerly that his cock meets no resistance pushing in. Who shifts his weight, the curly blonde hair at the base of his shaft brushing up over your clit. Who sends a blistering pleasure to your toes with each glide of his cock.

Katsuki who hooks one of your legs over his shoulder. Who digs his teeth into your calf until there’s an oval of imprints in your skin. Who bends until he can brace his hands by your shoulders, snapping his hips forward with sharp thrusts.

Katsuki who gets so sweaty during sex it trails down his jaw, down his neck and pools lewdly at his collarbones. Who laughs when you can’t resist the urge to lean up and taste him.

Katsuki who loves anal. Who’s feral about how tight your ass is, about the obscene way your rim stretches for his cock. Who will fuck you from behind while he opens you up with his fingers.

Katsuki who allows you to set the pace. Who lets you guide his cock gradually past your rim. Who pants excessively, voice hoarse as he complains about how hard it is not to flex and split you in half.

Katsuki who has a lilting moan wrenched from his throat when he starts to move. Who pushes down on your upper back, throwing his weight into each thrust.

Katsuki who fucks you so overwhelmingly your nails almost shred the sheets. Who has you screeching Katsuki! so deafeningly you shove your face into the sheets to muffle the noise. Whose hips bounce off your ass so roughly it turns your skin red.

Katsuki who nails your g-spot this way. Who forces you to cum so harshly you get chills. Who has you screaming out that you can’t take it, but who doesn’t slow his pace because he knows you’d say the safe word if you meant it.

Katsuki who is so mean. Who grips your hips rigidly, yanking you back to meet his thrusts. Who speaks condescendingly when he demands to know where the fuck you think you’re going, because “I know your slutty little ass can take my cock.”

Katsuki who rips an orgasm out of you, halfway to snarling when you squirt all over the sheets below. Who falls over the edge shortly after, bending over your back with a throaty moan and filling you with his release.

Katsuki who cleans you with a warm wash cloth afterwards. Who aids you in getting dressed in one of his oversized shirts. Who trades sweet kisses with you in the dark, snuggling you into his chest until you fall asleep. Who shrouds you with the feeling of safety and security while you dream of bright explosions.

[italktoomuchxd]

More Simon with dolls because you guys loved it

Check this!-(you may also want to check this hc)

He carefully tucked away the special doll you crafted for him in his room at the base, ensuring its safety from prying eyes and potential harm. He didn't want to lose it again. It meant so much to him, and he wanted to protect it as a cherished symbol of your bond. After all, you had poured your heart into making that doll, and he recognized its significance. To express his gratitude, he took you out for a lovely dinner, which felt like a beautiful celebration of his appreciation for you and the growing connection you shared. That doll wasn’t just a gift; it marked a significant milestone in the evolution of your relationship, something tangible to represent the memories you were building together.

As your birthday came, he found himself in a flurry of anxiety, fretting over what to get you. His mind raced with possibilities. Should he opt for a piece of jewelry? But that felt a bit too forward at this stage of your relationship. Maybe a book? He shook his head, chuckling to himself. Seriously, Simon? A book? You can't be more unoriginal than that. How could he be so mundane when he wanted to show you just how much you meant to him? The pressure was on, and he knew he needed to step up his game to make this birthday special for you.

What are you gonna buy, Simon? Socks?

He's gonna crochet.

He's gonna make you your doll.

He had never attempted anything like that before; sure, he had tackled challenging projects like knitted Christmas sweaters and quirky socks, but amigurumi? That was a whole different universe altogether. The intricate details and delicate shapes required for those tiny, plush creations felt completely outside his comfort zone.

The break room was usually filled with a relaxed atmosphere, where everyone was accustomed to finding their lieutenant leisurely crocheting in the corner, yarn neatly arranged by color. But today was different. He sat hunched over the small table, pushing his glasses down to the tip of his nose, his brows furrowed in concentration. The soft hum of his headphones barely masked the muffled sounds of the chaotic office outside. His eyes were locked onto the bright screen of his tablet, where a YouTube tutorial played on repeat. His expression was intense, almost fierce, as he glared at the video, determination etched on his face as he tried to grasp the technique.

But he managed a week's worth of sweat, blood, and tears, and there it is! A little y/n! Well, it doesn't really look like you, but at least he tried; he even added the sweater he knitted for you on that little doll.

He carefully packed a small box filled with your favorite sweets, that doll he made knowing how much you were going to enjoy it Alongside the treats, he included a heartfelt love note expressing his feelings for you, filled with sweet words that would surely make you smile. Additionally, he added his old shirt—a shirt that you had often worn during his stays at your house, as it always made you feel warm and comforted. It wasn’t one he used much anymore, but he wanted you to have it as a reminder of those special moments you shared together.

[fairyrcts]

TAKING WHAT'S NOT YOURS , C.S.

by fairyrcts contents - intended lowercase , 3rd person , use of y/n , oral (m recieving) , cursing , theft , praising

an - just conjured this up outta nowhere

taglist - @pvssychicken , @gothiccvnt6996 , @emely9274 (header by @issysh3ll )

y/n walked into high end jewelry store. her hair was up in a gold clip, her hand, neck and fingers dripping in gold as well.

it was clear to see she had money. not her own, obviously. she looked like your typical 'daddy's money' girl.

she browsed around the store, the bell ringing once more as a signal that someone else had walked in.

y/n paid no mind to it as she took a pretty good pendant in her hand. she looked around quickly before shoving it in her valentino white bag.

continuing to 'borrow', as she put it, she put more and more simple, gold jewelry into her purse. when turning around from the small earring stand, she'd accidently bumped into a man.

"anyone ever taught you not to sneak up on a lady like that?" she remarked quickly. at the sudden scare, she'd let the tight grip go on her purse as it loosely hung on her arm.

the new angle of the bag gave chris a good look into it. it was packed with stolen things that were all once on display.

"anyone ever taught you not to steal?" chris cheekily smirked at the girl in front of him.

her eyes went wide and her cheeks turn a shade of light pink. "what makes you think i'm stealin'?"

"oh, i dunno, maybe the tons of jewelry in your bag or the fact i just witnessed you." he rocked himself from heel to toe with his hands in his pockets.

"i- look, don't say nothin'. please." y/n rolled her eyes and pretended to be annoyed to hide her nervousness.

"why should i, though? i mean, i don't see why i shouldn't do the right thing. do you?" his smirk reappeared on his face before y/n scoffed.

"i'll do anything, just- please?"

"anything?"

damn it, she probably shouldn't have said that.

"well, i'm not a prostitute, asshole. just, whatever. what do you want?" she was clearly done with this. she mentally cursed herself for even getting caught in the first place

chris chuckled at her comment slightly. he grabbed her hand and began walking.

"what's your name?" he asked the girl who clearly didn't want to be in this predicament.

"y/n, why?"

"so i say the right name while ya blowin' me." he turned his head and shot her a wink. y/n looked outright disgusted.

but she wasn't complaining. not that this was her preferred method of blackmail, but she didn't mind it.

chris dragged her to one of the family bathrooms in the mall and locked the door behind them.

"a family bathroom, how cliche." she spoke as she looked around the small, square room.

"ya alright with this?" chris asked before he started to unbuckle the belt that was holding up his jeans.

"yeah, i don't care." she rolled her eyes while he slipped out of his pants, throwing them to the side.

"on ya knees."

"i'm sorry, and get my knees black from this floor? i don't think so." y/n crossed her arms, a pout on her lips.

"wanna try that again? less bratty this time, hm?" he spoke lowly, a smirk playing on the boy's lips.

she rolled her eyes once more. ultimately, she got on her knees, her dress riding up her thighs as she kneeled.

chris smiled down at her as he tugged off his calvin klein boxers, his dick sticking upright.

y/n's went wide, blinking a few times to make sure she wasn't seeing thing. she slowly began swirling her tongue along his tip, chris's head going back.

she removed her lips to spit on the boy's cock, using her hand to stroke it even. she put what she could fit into her mouth, her hand going up along the rest of his shaft.

chris's hand instinctly moved down to her hair, grabbing a handful and gently tugging it. moans started erupting from his mouth at the feeling of her lips bobbing on his length.

"ooh, fuck. y/n, damn it!" his bottom lip quivering as he spoke small praises to the girl.

his movements became more aggressive as he thrusted his hips in her mouth and yanked her hair while she sucked him off.

chris's sentences were now incoherent. y/n had tears streaming down her face as she still looked up into his lustful eyes. she gagged on his cock before he came without warning.

the warm liquids filled her mouth while she swallowed them down, a gasp leaving her mouth afterwards.

y/n stood up and brushed her knees off, chris catching his breath as he leaned against the wall behind him.

"you should start stealin' more often." he spoke, breathless.

"you should start catching me more often." she smiled up at him.

"i'm chris, nice to meet you." his words caused the two of them to laugh.

[bunabi]

The Tails Tails Tails Brush Packs are complete and available!

There are eleven total brushes for making weird, fun, easy tails in one stroke: six freebies and five for support+. These sets are for Clip Studio only. I'm moving soon so all tips are appreciated. ☆

By the way: theres gonna be a poll up this week about the brush release schedule. Would yall prefer to keep it as-is (biweekly) or do you prefer one big monthly drop? It will be public, so please feel free to weigh in.

Past posts in case you've missed them:

Galactic Brushes (for Clip Studio!) | Super Bokeh Brushes (Clip Studio) | Rainbow Burst Brushes | Shiny Sparkly Jewelry Pack | Shiny Sparkly Jewelry Pack Plus (+Only) | Grunge Brushes (Krita) | Valentines Lace | Twiggy Patterns & Brushes | Grunge Brushes (Support+ Only) | The Pack With Cracks | 2022 Brushes & Patterns Master List | And the freebies tag is right over there.

[rustedhearts]

sleigh ride (90s!rafe cameron x fem!reader)

⋆⁺₊❅。⋆⁺₊❅。⋆⁺₊❅。⋆⁺₊❅。⋆⁺₊❅。⋆⁺₊❅。

summary: rafe is too busy making phone calls and closing deals to pay attention to you on your christmas cabin getaway. you resort to tried-and-true methods of distraction to gain his attention back.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

⋆⁺₊❅。⋆⁺₊❅。⋆⁺₊❅。⋆⁺₊❅。⋆⁺₊❅。⋆⁺₊❅。

❆ the library ❆ the most wonderful time of the year

tags: early 90s businessman!rafe cameron, husband!rafe cameron, sleigh ride *wink, wink*, smuttish

⋆⁺₊❅。⋆⁺₊❅。⋆⁺₊❅。⋆⁺₊❅。⋆⁺₊❅。⋆⁺₊❅。

"our cheeks are nice and rosy, and comfy, cozy are we. we're snuggled up together like two birds of a feather would be"

— sleigh ride, ella fitzgerald

⋆⁺₊❅。aspen, colorado. december 1993. ⋆⁺₊❅。

“No…no, we’re not lowballing because this geezer didn’t know what he was getting into. We already went down half a mil for him, that’s plenty. 3.5, end of story.”

A long sigh expels from your mouth toward the logs above your head. Rafe purchased the Aspen cabin last summer, and it wasn’t until yesterday that you were finally able to make good use of it. Bags packed, plane boarded, you were pleasantly surprised that the pair of you even managed to make it here.

It’s a beautiful log cabin, built using the blueprint the eldest Cameron drew up himself. He spent months barking orders over the phone to get it done in time for last Christmas, yet here you were, a year later, lying in the Ralph Lauren-quilted King for the first time.

And Rafe is too busy barking orders into another phone to see it.

“No, no, just…get it done,” he snaps, and the plastic of the phone slamming into the receiver follows moments later.

His footsteps thump the hall. The bedroom doors swings open and Rafe sighs as he saunters in.

“Sorry, baby, it’s just…this fuckin’ deal, it’s ridiculous. I didn’t think I’d be this busy.”

You roll onto your knees, perching yourself in the center of the bed. “Are you too busy?”

Rafe whirls around from where he was slipping his wedding ring into a dish on the dresser. You squirm a little, a nearly Pavlovian reaction to the sight of him shedding jewelry. He never liked to dirty it. He never wanted anything preventing him from getting messy.

“What? No, baby, of course not,” he coos, taking one large step toward your figure on the bed.

His hands cup your face, thumbs pressing under your jaw. The pout on your face is slow to smooth and it makes him tut his tongue and shake his head at you.

“Come on, angel, ‘m sorry. ‘m not too busy for you.”

His kisses are soft and warm and soothe the sting for just a moment. Pattered over your mouth and scattered over your jaw, creeping slowly lower down your neck and toward the collar of your sweater.

"G-good, because...—because I have a surprise for you," you whisper, head tipping toward his affections.

Rafe scrapes his teeth over your collarbone, evoking a shiver that makes him chuckle. He pulls back enough to run the pad of two fingers over the aggravated flesh while he knocks your head aside with his own and fits it in the other side of your neck. His mouth there is all-consuming, enveloping a patch of flesh with hot breath and hard teeth.

"Oh yeah?" he mumbles against your skin, tongue lolling between his lips to roll over the indentations he left behind.

"Y-yeah," you squeak, fingers reaching for the nape of his neck and pressing tight.

When he stands to his full height again, Rafe's lips are swollen pink and coiled upward. "Well, show me."

You gently drop his hands from your waist, slipping your own under the hem of your sweater to lift it over your head. When freed from its fabric, you sit only in a delicate lace bra, comprised of Rafe’s favorite color on you: lilac. It was purchased unbeknownst to him a few weeks ago when the vacation was definite, knowing you wanted to do nothing but enjoy the quiet and remote solitude with Rafe in bed.

“Jesus,” he breathes, watching your breasts squeeze together as you unbutton your jeans and push them down. A matching set of panties awaits.

When your clothes are gone and only the lingerie remains, Rafe steps back to truly appreciate the sight. You kneel in the center of the bed again with warm cheeks, giggling when your husband ruffles the back of his hair. On the soft flesh of your chest, the intricate golden ‘R’ gleams in the soft cabin light.

Rafe can't help but reach out and feel it between his fingers. "Did all this for me, sweetheart?"

You nod, lip between your teeth and hands reaching for his shoulders. You smooth over the broadness of them, down his biceps, slipping to his chest as his knees bump the mattress with proximity. His breath tickles your nose, mint-scented from the tiny Altoids he pops between stressful phone calls and during every car ride.

Rafe hums, and it’s as he’s leaning in to meet your mouth with a sideways grin that his mobile phone begins to trill on the table in the hall. His smile slips instantly, a groan leaving his throat.

“No,” you pout, hands grasping at the nape of his neck again. “Don’t answer it.”

He winces, hands gently prying your own away by the wrists. “I’m sorry, baby, I gotta. ‘s probably about the deal.”

You fall back on your heels with his absence, scantily clad and suddenly cold. You glance through the brightness of the window, where the afternoon sun blares over the snow and creates a glare nearly blinding. When the wind picks up, it blows swirls of flurries across the fluffy ground and through the pines.

You know the other couples and families in the surrounding cabins are all likely whooshing down the slopes or snuggled in their warm, wooden confines. When Rafe proposed this vacation, he promised hot chocolates and fur blankets and diamond tennis bracelets.

And though the bracelet sits around your wrist, given yesterday morning on the car ride from the airport, the other things have been absent. Especially the naked bodies wrapped within those fur blankets.

“Jesus Christ, why is everyone so fucking incompetent?” Rafe snaps into the phone. “I was clear on 3.5. The next person to call and suggest anything other than that is getting fired.”

A breath puffs through your cheeks, lips pouted almost childishly. You sit back and kick your legs out, dangling them over the edge of the bed. You swing your feet over the Aztec patterns of the rug, toes painted Rafe’s favorite shade of pink.

“Todd, I’m not having this conversation again.”

Groaning, you slap your hands against the comforter and push to your feet. You find Rafe pacing the hallway, big white plastic clutched in a tight fist, free hand balled up in another. It unclenches when he reaches up to swipe his palm over the top of his hair. He turns on his heel to switch his direction, gaze grazing you.

You tip your head and huff, making your pout evident. Rafe turns again, holding a finger up to you. And if you weren’t annoyed before, you were certainly annoyed now.

“No—Todd, get your shit together.”

When the first finger pointing at the air makes its appearance, along with the narrowed eyes and furrowed brows, you know the stern business side of Rafe has taken over. And when that emotionless, ruthless side of Rafe appears, it’s hard to get the usual side of him back. It usually takes a few hours of decompression and a stiff drink to bring him back down.

But right now, you want him to pay attention to you. You don’t want to wait another minute, let alone a few hours.

While his back is to you, you reach behind you and unhook the lilac lace bra. It drops to the floor with a muffled thud, but it still takes Rafe another turn to notice the change. He steps to turn again, however quickly does a double take. His eyes find your bare chest and pebbled nipples, brows still furrowed but lips parted.

You place your hand on your hips and tip your head again, waiting. Paying attention now? twinkles through your gaze, and Rafe doesn’t appreciate the attitude. He makes this known through a shake of his head. Knock it off is the message coded through his gaze.

Yet it only flames your fire, and you’re reaching for the elastic band of your panties before you can stop yourself. Rafe tips his head back to the ceiling and pinches his eyes shut.

“Yeah, Todd, ‘m fuckin’ here. But my answer’s not gonna change.”

You fling the panties toward your husband, giggling when his eyes fly open. He instinctually catches the delicate fabric, balled up in his fist. It makes his jaw clench and he doesn’t even need to turn to know what awaits him. In his periphery, he can see every color of your flesh bared to him.

“Todd,” he says to the ceiling, tongue swiping of his lip. “‘m gonna have to call you back.”

He slams on the end button, but the giggle in your throat hitches when he finally looks at you.

“You’ve got five seconds to get your ass in that bedroom.”

His warning sparks through you like a hot surge, yet you’re slow to compute. His bright-eyed gaze burns through you intensely and pointedly, the ball of muscle in his jaw bulging with tightness.

You’re about to protest and justify your silly antics when he takes a step closer, tone low and gravely.

“1…”

You perk up, fingers looped behind your back. Another step closer.

“2…”

Your knees bounce over the bed, rumpling the fur throw draped over the edge. Rafe’s strides are practically leaps as he enters the room, tossing his phone and your panties toward the floor before knocking you on your back with a heavy hand to your chest.

“Fuckin’ brat,” he hisses. “No goddamn patience. Should teach you some manners, princess.”

You’re nearly giddy as his belt clinks open, zipper snicking after. You watch him shed his clothes with writhing anticipation, hands balling the blanket beneath you.

“But, it’s Christmas, yeah? And I’m feelin’ a little nice.”

He’s basically rambling to himself, but you’re not one to argue when you’re given a gift. He throws your thighs open, big palms cupping the width of them behind your knees. He uses his grip to tug you flush against him, eyes set firmly on where your bodies are prepared to meet.

“You, however,” Rafe continues, just barely breaching your entrance.

“Are nothin’ but naughty.”

[sleep-escapes-me]

didn't know they were dating

Imogen x Laudna

word count: 2569

a modern au told through the eyes of convenience store employee, Cynthia, and the observations she makes while working

read the full version on ao3

//

“Are you able to work independently in a fast-paced environment?”

“Yes, sir. At my previous job, my boss was impressed with how—,”

“You’re hired.”

The evening shift is Cynthia’s new home. She’s grateful for the opportunity at something different but more so for the money. Having hobbies is expensive and horses are expensive. So when your hobby is horses…well.

And school of course. Money for school.

“Welcome to Faramore’s!”

The cheery disposition is easy enough to muster. And once her manager stops randomly showing up during her shifts after the first week, Cynthia realizes the pep isn’t necessary. At least not with the crowd of customers she’s slowly getting used to.

It's a nice job for the pay. The shop she works at is located in a sleepy neighborhood on the city's outskirts so it rarely gets busy. Every night so far has been peaceful. Giving Cynthia plenty of time to finish any homework and people-watch.

She comes to recognize the regulars fairly quickly and learns all their names only because she’s nosy and the receipt is right there.

There's the blue-haired guy with the nice smile, Dorian, who more often than not has a guitar strapped to his back. He usually shows up with his boyfriend, seemingly always coming from a workout at the gym, Orym. His eyes are incredibly discerning if not a little unsettling. He stares at her like he knows all her secrets. But they’re always very polite and ask how she’s holding up in the late hour. Cynthia likes them.

Protein bar Lip balm Ready-to-bake pie crust $15.99

There's the incredibly tall gorgeous woman, Fearne, who always smells like a garden of wildflowers when she walks in. Cynthia’s been scared to ask what perfume she wears after an incident where she caught the woman attempting to steal. Maybe Cynthia is just naive but she thought being caught once would deter further attempts…but that strangely wasn’t the case. She's had to let it go altogether because she just gets so flustered. One playful wink from the woman has Cynthia forgetting all about the incident to the point that she makes an effort to make sure her manager never finds out about the missing stock.

Novelty monkey lighter Cinnamon gum 3 tubes of lipstick Pack of ribbons Costume jewelry Various postcards $0

Then there’s the punk-looking one with the spikey purple hair, Ashton, who always shows up exactly at 1 AM every other night. Cynthia was weary of him at first but then he gave her some really great unsolicited advice on how to not get swindled when negotiating with flaky people. After that night he started tipping her a single dollar and imparting arbitrary wisdom. Cynthia hasn’t yet figured out if it’s some kind of prank…

Two cases of beer Travel sewing kit Toothbrush $20.06

Probably the loudest customers are the two old men who have the strangest conversations every time they enter the store. Cynthia desperately wishes to get in on whatever strange schemes the hairier one, Chetney, seems to always be involved in. Half of them can’t be true but his imagination excites her regardless. The other one rides in on a bright yellow scooter half the time and always wishes Cynthia a smiley day without fail no matter the time of day. He never brings any money or pays for anything so Cynthia doesn’t know his name aside from the obvious nickname, Letters, that she hears thrown around by Chetney. The lack of money always starts an argument between the two old men that she has to awkwardly stand and listen to. She learns new curse words all the time from them.

Wood finisher Scented body oil $18.12 Chamomile tea Cigarettes $12.87

And her favorite; the girlfriends. Or at least that’s what Cynthia assumes they are. It’s hard to tell.

The spooky-looking one, Laudna, tries to make small talk while at the register. Cynthia isn’t shy by any means but it’s sometimes hard to keep up with the odd topics of conversation. Soon enough Cynthia’s learning about her pet rat who’s so old he should be dead and how he’s always jumping off high places attempting to fly. Cynthia nods politely and keeps her opinions to herself.

Mixed seeds Red yarn Super glue $15.26

The other woman Laudna is always with, Imogen, is a bit more demure—or maybe guarded is more apt. Her eyes never leave Laudna and seems content to listen to her prattle on as they shop. She rarely buys anything. It’s usually at the behest of Laudna reminding her of some arbitrary thought.

Pencils Hand lotion $11.07

//

Imogen comes in alone for the first time since Cynthia started working. There's a nervous titter of energy around her as she runs up and down each aisle like a bat out of hell. Cynthia debates if she should ask if she needs any help before Imogen rushes to the register.

“This all for you today?” Cynthia asks habitually.

Imogen nods with a quiet sigh. “Hopefully.”

Box cake mix Candles Black sprinkles Oven mitts $14.47

Once she’s left, Cynthia muses over how sweet their relationship must be for Imogen to want to bake a cake for her girlfriend. She herself is an abysmal baker so it makes her yearn for a relationship in the future that’s just as thoughtful. She imagines Laudna walking through their front door, the house smelling of freshly baked goods. Imogen walks out of a side room with the cake decorated, candles lit, and a big smile on her face…

She speaks too soon when Imogen comes back in a little over an hour in a visibly sour mood, black crumbs stuck to her shirt.

Box cake mix Frosting $3.69

Cynthia can’t help herself as Imogen sullenly reaches for her purchase. The words tumble out of her mouth. “Havin’ trouble?”

Imogen startles at the sudden question and Cynthia holds back a grimace. She awkwardly gestures to the items she just bagged.

“Using milk instead of water makes a better box cake. More fat is supposed to improve it or something. At least that’s what my mama always says.”

Imogen frowns and checks over her shoulder toward the fridge section. She looks back at Cynthia for a solid two-count and nods.

Milk Energy drink $4.25

Imogen smiles warmly at her, taking her groceries. “Thanks.”

Cynthia beams. “Of course. Hope it turns out well.”

Imogen doesn’t show up for the rest of the night.

//

Laudna shows up alone one day in a tizzy and Cynthia instantly recognizes something is wrong. It tests her resilience as an impartial convenience store employee to not get involved in customers' business…but Laudna’s frazzled appearance and her very loud speaking over the phone at least paints Cynthia a vague picture.

“Okay, darling, I’ve just arrived. I’m walking to the medicine aisle. Ooh, those snacks Pâté likes are on sale—right, sorry. I am in the medicine aisle. Which one is it?” She pauses. “There’s a yellow label and a blue label.” Another pause. “Are you sure? The yellow label says extra strength.” Pause. “Well, I don’t care if it’s extra money! This is your health! I’m not yelling! Oh, nope. I am. Sorry, sorry. Hold on. I’m grabbing the yellow label.”

Cynthia watches Laudna do that in two more aisles.

“Okay, darling, I’m heading to the register. I’m hanging up. I have to pay.” She frowns. “I'm telling you so you don’t worry.” She looks at the phone then at Cynthia. “She hung up.”

Cynthia bites the inside of her lip to keep from laughing. “Find everything okay?”

“Oh, I hope so.” Laudna’s shoulders droop. “I get so flustered in a crisis that sometimes I forget my own name. Isn’t that just silly? I’m lucky Imogen is always so collected.” She chuckles lightly while nervously pulling at the ends of her hair.

“It’s not silly when you’re worried about someone.”

“You’re so sweet.” Laudna's eyes crinkle with a smile. “You know, I see you working whenever I come in. No matter the time. Do you always work this shift?”

“For the time being, yes.”

“You’re so young,” she muses.

Cynthia hands over the bag to Laudna. “Well, I hope everything is all right with your girlfriend.”

Laudna’s face slowly drops as she processes Cynthia’s words. “Excuse me?”

She scrambles. “Nothing. Nevermind. Here’s your change. Have a good evening.”

Laudna stares at her for a long moment before reaching for her money. Then trails out of the store in a mumbling daze.

Scar cream Pain meds Bandage wrap $25.73

Cynthia resists the urge to run in the back room. Was she wrong? Were they even dating? Were they already married? She’s never seen a ring on Imogen. Or has she? Laudna…definitely had one, right? The shine of a sparkling red ruby ring enters her mind. Fiancé?

//

Imogen enters the store alone the next night but seems perfectly normal when interacting with Cynthia. She even tells her to have a good night as she leaves.

A bag of chips Two energy drinks $6.86

It isn't until Laudna is back again at the end of the week when the fruits of her fuck up unravel. She doesn't enter with Imogen. Instead with someone Cynthia is shocked to see such a sweet woman like Laudna in cahoots with. The thief!

Cynthia watches the pair peruse the aisles aimlessly until

“Fearne!” The yell comes from the back of the shop. Laudna’s arms can be seen flailing over the tops of the shelves. Cynthia strains to listen.

“It’s all right,” Fearne says. “She doesn’t mind.”

Laudna stutters. “You still shouldn’t steal from such a sweet girl. That could be grounds for termination.”

Fearne hums. “She hasn’t been fired yet.”

Finally, the two of them make their way to the front. Fearne pivots toward the door with a familiar flirty wink before Laudna grabs her arm.

“Where are you going?” she admonishes. “We still have to pay.”

“Oh. Oops,” Fearne giggles. “Silly me. It just slipped my mind.”

Cynthia is mostly sure Fearne didn’t forget.

Laudna's eyes don’t quite look at Cynthia as they approach. Fearne seemingly takes notice and saunters up to the register.

“You must see Laudna here a lot, right?”

Cynthia feels her mouth go dry. She realizes she’s never heard Fearne’s voice this close because the other woman never comes to the register. It somehow even further adores her to the enigmatic woman. Cynthia slowly nods. “Sometimes.”

She leans across the counter. Her eyes twinkle with a mischievous sparkle. “So…are you the one who called Imogen her girlfriend?”

“Fearne! Okay!” She pushes her friend aside and drops a bill down on the counter in a fluster. “That's enough of that. I think we’re done here. Yes. Thank you so much, young lady! You have a lovely evening!”

Cynthia forgets to ring them up.

//

At this point, it’s been several weeks since seeing Imogen and Laudna enter the store together. Cynthia is so on edge thinking about the two women's situation that it’s starting to affect her sleep schedule.

The curiosity eats away at her until the next time Imogen walks in. The gentle ding from the door’s bell erupts like a blaring alarm for Cynthia. Her focus zeros in on the unsuspecting woman and tracks her around the store like a hawk. The next time she passes by the front, the word vomit hurls from Cynthia’s lips when it’s simply too much to hold back.

“Did you break up?” She blurts out instead of her usual script.

Imogen’s eyebrows furrow. “Huh?”

“Your girlfriend—uhh, or maybe fiancé?” She says it like a question and Imogen stares at her like she’s grown two heads. “Laud—the one woman you’re always here with. The spooky one?” Silence. She should really shut up. “Aren’t you together?”

The other woman goes deathly still. “No…”

Oh.

Cynthia feels the embarrassing red-hot heat flooding her cheeks. “Sorry. I thought you were. It was wrong of me to assume.”

A muscle in Imogen’s cheek tightens. Her mouth opens and closes several times before she asks, “Why would you think we were together?” Her voice is stony. “Did she say somethin’?”

“What?” She doesn’t sound accusatory or angry so Cynthia is confident she hasn’t completely insulted this woman. The word vomit continues. “No. It’s not that. I mean I did mention to her that you were her girlfriend and she never really denied it. I thought—I honestly didn’t think you were dating at first. But after a while it was hard to ignore when the two of you seemed so…” She trails off when noticing how pale Imogen has gotten.

“So?”

“In love?” Cynthia finishes lamely. Her cheeks burn with mortification.

She makes a noise somewhere between an acknowledgment and a whimper.

It’s all Cynthia gets before she turns and makes a beeline toward the back. She stands in front of the liquor aisle for an exorbitant amount of time. Cynthia has half a mind to ask if she’s all right but cowardice of saying the wrong thing again stops her. Finally, she makes a selection and Cynthia has to struggle to not cringe as she rings her up. No pleasantries are exchanged.

Box wine $8.99

She comes in the next day.

Cynthia wants to crawl into a hole.

Box wine Tissues Pain meds $14.68

And the next.

Cynthia considers quitting just to stave off the unparalleled embarrassment and shame coursing through her.

Two bottles of wine Decongestant Pint of ice cream Effervescent tablets $36.87

She never sees her again.

Mainly because Cynthia quits her job at Faramore's soon after. She’s accepted into an apprenticeship across town and can’t justify the commute anymore.

She doesn’t tell her regulars because that seems like a silly thing to do. It’s not like she talks to any of them or knows them beyond the stories she makes up in her head by their brief interactions. It’s strange when she realizes she will miss them. There’s a melancholic kind of insight she garners—missing someone you don’t really know.

Months later Cynthia finds herself in the neighborhood after an event takes her back across town. The curiosity hits her a bit too hard and soon enough she finds herself back at her old store. It’s like walking into a time capsule. She doesn’t feel any claim to the shop as it’s one of many and she’s gone to others in the franchise but it still feels strangely familiar as the bell dings when she enters.

The guy at the register is more apathetic than she cares to comment on. He rings up her items without so much as a greeting.

Gummy bears Bottle of water $4.33

On her way out, the door whooshes open and the bell dings softly. As if in slow motion, in walks Laudna, a big smile on her face, arm around a giggling Imogen’s shoulders, whose own arm is securely wrapped around Laudna’s waist. Laudna leans her head down to kiss the top of Imogen’s head. Then Imogen smoothly turns her face upward and they share a chaste kiss without breaking their stride. They don’t notice Cynthia walk past them.

Maybe Cynthia sheds a single tear later that night when she thinks about them or maybe it's just this very emotional movie she’s watching about a horse that defies all the odds in the end.

[wingedhallows]

i got my eye on you; marauders

pairing: marauders (sirius black x reader) | 3.3k words plot: albus reaches out to you to keep the marauders save, to not have them die, so you join them in their seventh year. authors note: this is by far the longest fic i ever wrote and it'll have several parts. I hope you like it :) have a good weekend, y'all <3

navigation | part one ; part two

“For some of you, this will be the last- '' The doors to the great hall opened with a loud squeak and all heads whipped to who had entered. It was uncomfortably quiet as a young woman, looking no older than twenty five, entered the hall.

Her appearance was unusual, to say the least. Students stared as they took in her appearance, the long hair, the loose jeans and the many many tattoos. Her face was adorned with make up, some jewelry graced her neck as well as her fingers and and her feet were plucked into beat up sneakers.

The students didn’t miss the pack of cigarettes which she had just shoved into the pocket of her pants or how her made-up eyes looked over the mass of teenagers. 

The way she walked was confident, relaxed. Her arms swung by her side in a comfortable manner, something the students hadn’t seen in the halls of Hogwarts ever. As she reached the podium where Dumbledore stood, he embraced her in a hug. 

“I’m late, sorry for that.” You said, Dumbledore swatted his hand and rubbed your upper arm. “No problem at all, Y/N. Life as a young Auror gets busy, does it not?” You gave him a small smile and turned around to walk up to the teachers, hand held out for them to take. As you came back to Albus, he had a hand on your shoulder. “They’re right there, just sit down with them.” He pointed his bony finger at the Gryffindor table, you couldn’t make out who he meant but followed suit.

Albus had contacted you a few weeks ago to give him a helping hand. A group of students, infamously titled the marauders were in grave danger, something about a prophecy and Voldemort. You didn’t need to know more when Albus had sounded so desperate.

You stepped off the podium and walked down the Gryffindor table, the gazes of students burning into your form. Just as you slowed down at a boy you had seen before, the older Black son, Sirius Orion Black, you stopped.

You looked back at Dumbledore and pointed at the bench. With a small nod you walked up to them. “Excuse me.” You spoke and within seconds the boys parted like Moses had the sea. You sat down and avoided their eyes when Albus started to talk again.

The teens looked at you, examining you. “As I was saying-” You weren’t listening as you looked at them. The boy on your right across the table had dark hair, not as long as the Black’s but it was neatly styled. His tie sat untidy in the center of his uniform and he looked your way a few times, too shy to actually keep eye contact. T

he one next to him looked tidier, his tie was neatly pulled together, his hand rested on a book which you couldn’t make the title out of. His face was graced with faint reddish scars and his eyes were glued to Dumbledore.

The table stayed faintly quiet as Albus stopped talking and breakfast was announced. “Relax.” You said, eyes now glued to your face. With a tap to the plate it vanished and a steaming cup of coffee emerged in its place. You fished the pack of cigarettes from your pocket and pushed one between your lips. Black, who was seated to your right, grabbed your arm, biscuit in his other hand.

“No smoking on grounds.” The tidy boy spoke, as Black retreated his hand. “Rules.” Sirius spoke, he shook his head, obviously thinking those to be absurd. You gave them a small smile before you lit the cigarette with a tip of your finger.

“The rules don’t count for me.” The dark haired boy furrowed his eyebrows and huffed before he spoke. “But-”I’m not a student.” You took a sip from your coffee and spoke again.

“I’d be a bit too old for that.” You took a drag from your cigarette, enjoying the way the smoke filled your lungs. You huffed the smoke over their heads and took another sip. “No fair.” Sirius crumbled next to you.

You looked to your right and held the cigarette out for him. With wide eyes he watched you, without a word you nodded your head at him. He hesitated but embraced the stick between his lips and took a drag. Without as much as a cough he blew out the smoke and gave you a small smile. “Thanks.” You didn’t answer before you took another drag.

“My name’s Y/N and I’m here to look out for you-”Look out for us?” You eyed him through your lashes with a glare. “James.” The boy next to him nudged his shoulder and he retreated with a quick sorry.

“You goin’ to interrupt me again, James?” James shook his head “No ma’am.” Your lips twisted into a grin “Good.”

You propped your arms onto the table and started to talk again. “I can’t tell you why, orders from way up.” You paused as you saw them frown.

“I wanna make one thing clear, I’m not here to keep you in check.” You paused “I’m simply here to not have you die, I couldn’t care less about what you do in school.” The boy to your left shuffled to look at you. “Look at me like a friend, you can come to me for help and whatever else you want, I kinda have a free pass here.” You pointed at the pack of cigarettes.

“So, you’re just here to keep us safe?” The boy next to James spoke and you nodded. “Exactly.” James wasn’t convinced, eyebrows still knitted together. “But that doesn’t make sense, we’re good at taking care of ourselves. Sirius has a mean right hook and I’m the best quidditch player in our school. We can take-”No you can’t.” You broke him off.

“Not during these times.” He eyed you some more before he returned to his breakfast.

Just as James opened his mouth again you caught Albus in the corner of your eyes. He had his hand raised, asking you to meet him up in his office. You understood and spoke after you had shoved the cigarettes back into your pocket.

“Excuse me.” You said, Sirius wanted to keep a hold on you, to not let you go but within a second the space next to him was empty. You had apparated away, on school grounds. Maybe you were right after all, you did have a free pass.

Albus only wanted to remind you of your mission, keep them safe. He handed you their schedule and sent you on your merry way. You apparated into Minerva's classroom, startling two girls in the process. The lesson hadn’t started yet and the room was buzzing with voices.

James and Sirius were seated together, Remus sat with Peter. Albus had shown you pictures, pointed them out to you. There was a bench behind the four which was vacant, so you decided to place yourself there.

You had no business here, you knew. You had finished your school years at Mahoutokoro in Japan about three years ago, you were no longer a student and you didn’t desire to be one ever again but this mission, this task, which Albus put in your hands felt too important to act upon your dislikement of school.

“Oh, Y/N.” Remus said with a small smile on his face as he noticed you.

You gave him a small wave of your fingers and leaned back in your chair, Sirius and James now sat facing you. “You’ll join the lessons too?” You nodded and lit yourself a cigarette, they didn’t question it this time.

“Albus told me to feel free to join in if I wanted to.” Sirius brought a hand through his brown locks and gave you a flirty smile. “Should’ve sat behind you then, Snivellus’ an eyesore.” You gave him a grin and eyed the fellow student. He was hunched over his desk, gaze locked on his workbook.

“So, you’ll join-”You’re in my seat.” A blonde boy interrupted James, he stood right in front of you, his blonde hair framed his face like a helmet.

“I don’t see a name.” You smiled, taking a drag from your cigarette. “This seat is mine.” He said again, nose held high. You raised from your chair and placed yourself in front of the nuisance of a boy. His jaw was clenched and his eyebrows furrowed in anger.

“Well now it’s mine.” You almost whispered, the classroom had gotten awfully quiet, eager to catch a glimpse of your quarrel.

“I’ll say it one more time, this seat is mine, you mud-”I wouldn’t if I were you. I’m the furthest thing from a mudblood, not that I like the sound of that insult.” Your face contorted into a frown before you took another drag of your cigarette and blew the smoke right in his face. The blonde coughed violently as you looked down on him.

“Get away from me.” You said before you sat down and crossed your legs over each other. The boy took a step forward, fists clenched and face flushed.

Sirius and James were fast to stand up, square their shoulders and stare him down. You felt like there were two guard dogs standing right behind you.

“This isn’t finished.” He spat before he turned around and found himself and his buddy a seat. His eyes found yours again before you raised your hand to flip him off.

Sirius burst into laughter as he reached over the desk and patted you on the shoulder. “You’re growing on me, love.”

“Malfoy’s an arse, don’t fret it.” James laughed before you waved him off. “I think I can handle him just fine, James.”

Just as Minerva stepped into the room you had any evidence of a cigarette vanishing. McGonagall wrinkled her nose in displeasure as she placed her bag down.

“Who smoked in my classroom?” The boys didn’t move, you just raised your eyebrows, you’d get him for good. “No one?” You wiped the smirk off your face as you raised your hand.

“Minerva, can I call you that?” The woman faced you, her face didn’t change as she simply nodded.

“I’m not normally one to tell, but I believe that school rules are of utmost importance for students, it was like that for me when I visited Mahoutokoro.” You paused to flash her a small smile, a smile that said, I’m on your side, I’m here to support, not side with students.

“I believe I saw Mr. Malfoy over there enjoying a cigarette just a few moments ago. I’m not one to disdain smoking, as I enjoy it myself but as we all know, I’m no longer a student, but Mr. Malfoy is one and I believe that this should be addressed.”

You were amazed by yourself, you hadn’t been a two faced bitch since school. The boys turned around, faces painted with disbelief. Sirius had to hide the grin on his face. Peter stared at you in horror, how could you be so absolutely stellar at lying, without a stutter or a twitch of guiltiness. 

“Very well, Y/N. Do you have proof to reinforce those accusations?” She stepped a row closer to you, hands clasped together. Malfoy shot to his feet, face bright red with anger as he tried to speak.

“Professor, you couldn’t possibly believe-”I believe a quick whiff should be enough, cigarettes leave a rather strong smell on people who smoke.” 

Minerva gave you a nod and proceeded to where the blonde boy sat, his eyes widened in horror. You had blown the smoke at him, it would still linger. The teacher reached her head forward and smelled the boy's uniform, with a gasp she retreated.

“Mr. Malfoy, I’m truly disappointed, smoking on school grounds is bad enough but in my classroom of all places. 10 points from Slytherin and detention.” You sat down and gave the boys a smirk, they turned around with an amused expression on their faces.

“Thank you, Y/N. It’s nice to see someone acting their age.” You didn’t respond and just gave her a smile.

-

“I can’t believe you got Malfoy detention.” James laughed. “Not to mention the house points off Slytherin!” Sirius laughed before he threw an arm over your shoulder. You just shook your head and took the cigarette he had snatched from you back. His fingers played with your hair as you occupied your free hand with your lighter.

“So, you’re just going to spend your free period with me here?” You tried and Peter hummed, his arms snaked around his school bag. You’d told them that you’d like to go for a smoke, to get some peace but that apparently doesn’t exist without those four.

“So, how old are you actually?” James spoke, your eyes found his. Remus jabbed him in the side and you chuckled, taking another drag of the cigarette before Sirius grabbed your arm to take a drag himself.

“Not cool, man.” Sirius commented. You were so close, so intimate. It didn’t feel weird though, it didn’t bother you. Being with him felt so easy, so comfortable. Was that a bad thing? You felt as if you were letting your guard down, what if you were too distracted to keep them safe? All those thoughts disappeared when Sirius’ hand rested on your shoulder.

“24.” You simply answered. Remus finally sat down in front of you, his shoulders seemed less tense. “You went to school in Japan, why that?” You shifted your legs and put the cigarette out letting it once again disappear in the palm of your hand.

“I was originally going to spend my school years here at Hogwarts but when my parents saw my potential they decided to send me to a school which took more pride in their students power and skill than anything else.” You paused and lit yourself another cigarette.

“My parents insisted on my transfer to Mahoutokoro when I was barely twelve years old, I haven’t seen them since I was transferred.” Sirius retreated his arm to fully face you.

“What do you mean?” James spoke, eyebrows furrowed. “I never forgave them for ripping me away from everything I knew, my friends, my family, my mother tongue. Everything.” 

“So you never spoke to them again?” Peter leaned forward, intrigued by the conversation. You nodded your head, eyes on the ground you sat on. “Not one word.”

“What’s Maktokoro-”Mahoutokoro.” You interrupted Sirius, who just swatted your attempt of correcting him away. “Yes, that.”

You caught the boy looking at your hand and without a word you raised the cigarette to his mouth, his warm hand grasped yours gently and he clasped the stick in between his lips. The way he looked, the way he felt, did something to you. Heat spreads from your chest over your shoulder.

“I-It’s very disciplined, hence why I look how I look.” You paused to catch your breath and to rip your gaze from the delicious looking man next to you.

“No tattoos, no dying your hair, no casual clothes, no nothing. The only nice thing is the scenery.” Sirius held a drink for you to take and with a thankful smile you took it.

“Mahoutokoro is big in Qidditch, it wasn’t my cup of tea but the matches were a sight to see.” James leaned back with a smirk on his face.

“Well, Quidditch’s our expertise.” You raised your eyebrows at him. “I’m a seeker myself, Sirius’ a beater.” You smiled at him and nodded your head. “I guess I have to watch you play, then?” 

Sirius let out a chuckle and threw his arm over your shoulder once again. “Of course, love. I need something worth winning for.” You had to laugh yourself before you intertwined your fingers with his before he placed the cigarette in front of your mouth again. You took a drag and blew the smoke past him.

“You don’t play?” You addressed the other two boys.

“No, Peter and I are not so skilled regarding Quidditch.” Remus laughed, his book wandering to his other hand.

“Moony’s the one with the best grades though, Quidditch only gets you so far.” James threw in and Remus gave him a small smile. “Oh, so you’re the smartest?” Remus had to chuckle and shook his head.

“He’s only being modest.” Sirius whispered in your ear and you nodded before Sirius dropped the done cigarette into your palm and it vanished.

Seated all the way in the back you were surprised to see one of your former teachers teach Defense Against Dark Arts here at Hogwarts. Hayato Fujimoto was one of your favorite teachers when you went to school, to see him here now fills you with comfort. 

He broke into a bright smile as he welcomed the students. “We have a guest here, as it seems.” He paused to lean on his desk. You waved at him before he waved you to the front of the class.

“Miss Y/N here was one of my most talented students, with excellent skills in wandless magic and dueling. I’m happy to have you here, so far from home. I hope you’re willing to show your skills to my students sometime.” You gave him a smile and tilted your head towards him.

“Of course, Professor.” He waved you off “Please, you’re no longer one of my students, call me Hayato.” You couldn’t do that, you knew and he knew as well.

“Alright students, get in line, find yourself a partner.” Fujimoto waved his hands to rush them along, his white hair jumped with the effort. You stayed behind, to stay out of their way.

These lessons, learning how to defend themselves, were important. Even if the professor was eager to show you off, you wanted them to train, to be able to wield those defensive spells, especially Sirius, James, Remus and Peter.

You made your way to them, watching them. James trained with Peter, Sirius with Remus. Spell after spell jumped between them, but you noticed right away, they were going easy on each other. They didn’t take it seriously.

Without a word you stepped in front of Remus, who retreated with wide eyes. “What?” He mumbled as Sirius lowered his wand with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Raise that wand, Black.” You paused before he stepped forward, following suit and raised his wand again.

“Hit me with the best you got.” He hesitated but nodded, wielding his wand.

“Stupefy!” He yelled and with a flick of your hand it dispersed, you looked bored. “Don’t go easy on me now, Sirius.” He took a breath and raised his wand again.

“Rictusempra!” He tried again, but you waved it off once again. With a nameless spell you sent him off his feet, he flew a feet meters and landed on his ass.

You frowned and walked over to him. Your hand reached to his head and your other one held his shoulder. His hair was fluffy, softer than you expected it to be. “You okay?” He huffed and sent you a pained grin, trying to play off the aching in his buttocks. 

“Fine.” He mumbled before he got to his feet again. You brushed his shirt off and rubbed his upper arm. He nodded and took his wand from your hand.

“I didn’t want to knock you off your feet, sorry about that.” You said before he grabbed your arm, warm hand grasping your flesh.

“That’s twice now, you owe me.” He said with a smirk on his face.

For once, you were speechless. You expected him to be mad, to dislike you but he flirted. Your cheeks felt hot and your heartbeat sped up. This wasn’t good, not good at all.

[residenttransguy]

Alright, so, here's my list of tips to make you feel more mask (as a trans guy)

- clothes (darker colors are gold, but you don't have to limit your wardrobe if you don't want to)

- especially boxers and pretty much anything from the men's section helps me a lot

- a lot of people say to wear oversized hoodies, but I recommend looking for ones where the seam (place where the sleeve connects to the torso) sits at the top of your shoulder. Makes your shoulders look wider

- don't know why but striped or geometric patterns on socks help me feel more masc

- work outs (specially strength training) can be very gender affirming

- wear a binder (or a sports bra if you don't have one) (don't bind for +8-10 hours or work out while binding, NEVER sleep in you binder, remember to take breaks)

- pack if that's something you want (you can easily DIY a packer with a pair of socks)

- gender affirming hair cuts are gold

- use mens body wash/shampoo/deodorant and/or cologne/aftershave

- wearing more typically masc watches, jewelry etc. if that's your vibe

- wearing chunky boots?

- don't pluck your eyebrows, let your body hair grow out

- some people get a lot of euphoria from creating the illusion of a faint mustache with makeup or highlighting already existing facial hair

That's all I have atm, but feel free to add to the list

Also remember: no matter how stereotypically 'masculine' you look or not, whether you want to try out some of these things or don't, you're srill completely valid in your identity. Keep living your truth king

[wonilita]

Romanticizing school ♡

small tips and stuffs ! | inspired by pinterest

𝜗𝜚 Listen to music if you're allowed to, create a playlist !

𝜗𝜚 Journal or write in a diary.

𝜗𝜚 Use lots of highlighters, pens, and other stuff to make your work look pretty.

𝜗𝜚 Wear pretty accessories to school ! (jewelry, bows, etc)

𝜗𝜚 Take a pretty route to school!

𝜗𝜚 Pack a healthy and delicious lunch! Make sure to also be hydrated :)

𝜗𝜚 Be kind to everyone and never judge anyone !

[urmadiik]

1610 Miles x southernbelle!black!fem!reader? She’s basically Charlotte la Bouf from the princess and the frog with her personality and aesthetic but black, and she’s moving to Brooklyn for the first time after living in the country for so long. She’s also new to Brooklyn Visions and Miles shows her around, and they eventually become close and she meets Miles’s family when they start dating :)

AWW I LOVE CHARLOTTE OMGG ILL TRY !!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 !! : Miles!1610 x Black!fem!reader , fluff , reader has a southern accent , death mentioned, use of y/n, try to visualize the reader with a country accent/the same voice Charlotte la about had I can’t do all the work here 😞, shy reader, google translated Spanish ♡︎

feel free to give suggestions / tips on my writing only if it’s respectful !!

˚ ✧ ✩ 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐘𝐨𝐫𝐤 ✩ ✧ ˚

From the moment you were able to comprehend words, you have always longed for a prince just as the pretty princesses did in your storybooks. All afternoon, you would giggle as your mother would sit in her tall, wooden chair. Reading your stories as her melodic voice danced as the sound hit your ears, you sitting big-eyed on the floor, just happy to listen.

Your father’s business had slowed down over the past couple of months and before you knew it, you packed your bags and moved from your large estate in New Orleans to a smaller home all the way in the Big Apple (New York). You weren’t very thrilled about the new move either.

You’ve always believed your life would end with a happily ever after, no matter how bad things got. But that narrative shortly altered as on your 14th birthday, your mother died, her body becoming too frail and weak to fight her illness anymore. After that, you felt so miserable. You’ve always admired her, from her modest and ladylike style to her soothing voice that could always make the burning feeling in your throat ease as you sobbed in her chest. Her scent of vanilla and cocoa butter lingered in your nostrils as you nestled in the crook of her neck, her warm and slim hands gently rubbing your back and cooing sweet nothings in your ear. And now she’s just..gone..?

Ever since then, you couldn't get over the fact that she was really gone. You tried to keep her memory alive the best you could, keeping small mementos around your room. Once you forgot the exact shade of her eye color and vowed to yourself you’d never forget anything else again. Was it honey brown or a deep brown? You didn’t know, your vision blurred as tears burned your eyes as you searched around your room for even a photograph of her.

Although that was how it felt on the inside, your physical appearance didn’t change one bit. Apart from your sunken eyes and the redness in the crease of your eyelid, your attitude didn’t change towards people. You remained upbeat and kind, but somehow there was always a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach no matter how hard you tried to act like you were truly happy.

As you were deep in thought in the backseat of a taxi, you jumped a little as you heard a man speaking to you.

“This your stop?” He spat with a hint of an urgency, his thick accent making it a tad hard to comprehend.

“Hm? Oh, yessir.” You nodded as you speedily handed the man his a handful of cash and exited the car, afraid to get a tardy on the first day of school.

“You already paid.” The man said, trying to hand you back the money,

“Just a tip.” You shrugged as you walked up the steps of the school building and pushed open the doors.

As you walked through Brooklyn Visions, looking like a lost cat as you gazed at everything with a sparkle in your eye, you felt people staring at you. Maybe it was the way you decorated your uniform with golden jewelry and pearls or how it was obvious you weren’t from here, either way they were staring.

When you found your classroom, you gripped the cold, metal handle and took a deep breath, bracing yourself for the long day it was about to be before opening. As you closed the door behind you and immediately, all eyes were on you which made you a little uncomfortable.

“Yes Ms?” You spoke softly.

“Would you like to introduce yourself?” She gestured back to the class.

“No thank you, where do I sit?”

“Next to…” She glanced around the room for an open seat.

“Sit next to Miles.” She pointed. “Raise your hand Miles” She said a little louder.

“Hm..? Oh yeah.” He whispered under his breath as he set down his pencil he was scribbling with.

You gazed upon the freckled-faced boy, taking note of his appearance for a second. You walked over to the desk, pulled out the chair, and sat next to him, your leg bouncing as you silently sat and stared at the ground, trying to not get uncomfortable by the staring kids even if they made an effort not to make it evident.

As the teacher clicked play on the projector and the lights in the classroom dimmed, you felt a little nudge beside you.

“You new here?” Miles whispered softly.

“Hm..?” You mumbled, leaning in a little as your eyes stuck to the board as the video played out.

“You new here?” He repeated with a slight sigh.

“Oh yea! ‘Just moved in.” You chirped quietly.

You soon began to have a full conversation with the boy, your gaze adjusting to his face. Where you came from, how the South was like, your favorite songs. It all just flowed out so naturally with him.

“I like Sade t-“

And just as the discussion was just getting good, you heard a piercing voice cut you off.

“Ms. Y/n and Mr. Morales?” The teacher narrowed her eyes as she spoke as she paused the video.

“Yes’m?” You quickly lowered your head slightly to the ground as he did the same.

“Yes ma’am?” He spoke softly.

“Stop talking or I’ll separate the two of you.” She spoke, her hands crossed before she unpaused the video and sat back on her desk.

“Yes’m.” “Yes ma’am.” You both said in unison, eyes pointing back up at the board.

After the class got dismissed, you packed up all your things until you felt a tiny tap on your shoulder again.

“So uh..Y/n?”

“Mhm?” You said with a slight smile.

“Could I maybe..give you a tour of the school..?” He mumbled quickly, tugging at his collar subconsciously.

“Oh s’pose..” Your smile grew a tiny bit larger as he enveloped his warm hand in yours and sauntered with you all around campus. He showed you the gym, the cafeteria and even walked you to your next class.

Throughout the day, you couldn’t help but ponder why the boy took such an interest in you, playing with the tight bun that sat on top of your head I’m the school bathroom mirror while you scrunched your nose at the light but familiar smell as you adjusted the satin bow in the back. Pushing the pins back into place with ease. Your wonders would soon come to a halt as you sat at an empty lunch table, your cheek in your palm as your elbow rested comfortably on the table. You were picking at the suspicious pieces on ‘pineapples’ with your fork when you saw a familiar face.

“Miles?” You smiled with a glimmer of relief as you motioned him to come sit with you, hoping to make atleast one companion.

The boy happily accepted your request and sat next to you. And just like that, you made your first friend. Short “hi’s” as you crossed paths in the halls turned into walking each other to and from class, then getting each other numbers, which transitioned into a talking stage, and before you knew it, you had the prince you’d always dreamt of since you were a little girl. A prince who loved and cherished you the way you thought of him.

Miles was such a sweetheart, which made comfortable confiding in him. Though the two of you had things in common, you both had the same values and beliefs which you cared cared for the most. You shared with him your struggles to make meaningful connections with people and why you truly came to New York, despite feeling a tad embarrassed. You even opened up to him about your late mother and how difficult it has been since she passed. And throughout each talk or meltdown, he was always there. He let you sob into his arms as you cuddled in his chest comfortably, running his warm hands up and down your back. And even if his gifts weren’t the most expensive, they were priceless in your eyes. Every time you weren’t feeling your best, a little origami swan or rose would sit on your windowsill, making your heart flutter with excitement each time. Or, you a little goodie bag with your favorite snacks were disguised perfectly behind your text books, your giggles would make his cheeks heat up as you read his corny lil love letters. And for the first time in months, you were truly happy.

One evening while Miles was walking you home, pinkies interlocked, he mumbled something that caught your attention.

“So how would you feel if you uhm.. met my parents..?” He said in a hushed tone, pulling on his collar out of habit.

“Meeting your parents?” You smiled, feeling a bit of a rush that he had thought you were that important.

He answered with a swift nod.

“Id love to!” You kissed on the nose sweetly as the walk stopped short at the front door of your house.

“Tomorrow at 6?” He looked down at you while you looked up.

“Mhm,” You nodded as you waved goodbye to him and entered your home, rushing up the stairs to brainstorm an outfit to wear for this new occasion. Your daddy was home as usual, so you decided to just leave a sticky note on where you were going since the two of you practically communicated through little notes of the fridge or text now because of his job that required him to work from before you opened your eyes to long after you shut your eyes for the day. Sure you did miss him and the once lively home in New Orleans you once knew, but you accepted it was for the best and came to terms with that reality.

The next evening, after school, Miles came to pick you up. You rushed down the stairs as soon as you heard his recognizable 3 knocks on the door. You didn’t even spare time to look through the peephole which was a force of habit that always made him upset.

“Cariño (sweetheart), what’d I tell you about the door?” He huffed softly.

“I know, I know, sorry..but look at my outfit!”As you gestured to your attire, you were wearing your favorite black frilly button-up. Along with that, a white skirt lined with a pink bow at the end that stopped abruptly at the knee. You paired it with a pair of black heels and white stockings outlining your legs comfortably.

“Yes princesa, you look beautiful as always.” He chuckled lightly as he examined you head to toe, down to the pearl jewelry assorted carefully in your hair and throughout the outfit.

“You think your parents will like it?” You smiled up at him, letting him take your hand and walk you.

“They’ll love it.” He assured, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

When you got to the door, you were practically shaking in your boots.

“Miles…I don’t know about this anymore. What if they don’t like me..?” You frown, your hand hovering above the cold door knob.

“They’ll love you baby, I’m sure of it.” He said softly, giving you one of his “everything’s gonna be alright” smiles.

“But what if-“

“Shh…I like you a lot, and if my parents can’t see that then I don’t care. You’re my girlfriend, not theirs.”

You took a deep breath, shook your head, put on your best smile and opened the door.

“Hi Mrs and Mr Morales!” You chirp.

“Oh hi! You must be y/n, correct?” She smiled widely.

“Yes ma’am!” You nodded, sitting down at the dining table, Miles following behind you.

“So..” Jeff mumble as they all sat down, a paper plate of pizza in front of you.

At first, dinner was so awkward. You weren’t the best at starting a conversation, so you all just sorta…stared at each other. A few uncomfortable giggles and silent glances around the room, but that’s all. Luckily, Mikes knew of your antisocial antics and decided to help out.

“Y/n’s really good at Spanish y’know?” He brought up, breaking the unbearable silence.

“Really?” Rio smiled, finally showing some interest in the conversation.

“Oh uhm..yeah! I have an A and sometimes help him with some of his homework!”

And for the rest of the night, it ran smoothly. The room filled with laughter and cute stories about Miles when he was younger, reminiscing over the past. Over the course of you and Miles’ relationship, you and Rio had gotten really close. From asking “When is she coming over again?” to baking and gossiping with each other, you were practically best friends. She even slipped up and called you her daughter time to time, which almost brought tears to your eyes from how endearing it was too you. In a way, you saw her as a mother figure.

[billys-pretty-babe]

"I'm Billy, Billy Hargrove"

Pairing : Older!Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Summary : A night at a dingy baris where you least expect to meet the man of your dreams.

⚠️Images found on Pinterest⚠️

Warnings : Swearing, alcohol usage, age gap - Billy is 35, reader is 25

Word count : 1,285

A/N : May or may not be hyperfixated on Older!Billy

Hawkins, Indiana was not a party town in the slightest, there were no night clubs and there were one or two dingy bars that you were sure should be shut down for health code violations.

It was a Thursday night, and you needed a drink after the day you had at work. You had two options for a bar because the liquor store had shut down due to the Chief cracking down on teenagers getting alcohol. You decided on the bar near the outskirts of town, knowing many people didn't go to it.

It didn't take long for you to arrive at the bar as you parked near a blue car, it looked old, but then again most of the people in town were old because teenagers typically left Hawkins after graduation, but you missed your chance to leave. You sighed, checking yourself in your mirror before getting out of your car and walking into the bar.

It smelt like smoke and strong liquor and cologne, lots and lots of cologne which mixed into the air, giving you an instant headache. You walked to the bar and the bartender smiled at you as he began making your usual order. You visited the bar frequently enough that he knew what you wanted.

The glass hit the top of the bar as he slid it to you and you thanked him, dropping some money into the tip jar as you sat down on one of the ratty old stools, the cracked leather digging into your skin. Part of the lounge was smokey, a group of men smoking cigars. You glanced around at the crowd of people before your eyes settled on a man that was sitting at the opposite side of the bar, a glass of a dark liquid in his hand, and you assumed it was Jack Daniels.

He had a pack of cigarettes in his left hand as he messed with the cardboard box. His lashes were long and dark, you could see them from where you sat. He tapped a silver ring on the glass, condensation dripping from the glass to the countertop. He had dirty blonde hair that was sprinkled with grays. You could see the ink of tattoos crawling out of the sleeves of his shirt

He had a pack of cigarettes in his left hand as he messed with the cardboard box. His lashes were long and dark, you could see them from where you sat. He tapped a silver ring on the glass, condensation dripping from the glass to the countertop. He had dirty blonde hair that was sprinkled with grays. You could see the ink of tattoos crawling out of the sleeves of his shirt and for the first time in your life, you were attracted to an older man.

Your ran your eyes down his torso, his shirt was tight everywhere. His jewelry glimmered in the lights of the bar, his single earring catching your attention. It was a small silver hoop in his left ear, and he had a silver necklace on, the pendant falling inside of the slightly unbuttoned shirt that showed off how toned his chest was and gave you a glimpse of his chest hair.

He looked up from whatever he was looking at as his eyes drifted over to you. His eyes were gorgeous, they were colored but you couldn't tell what color because of the distance. His eyes never left you, his lips curling up on his glass as he took a swig of the drink, a drop of alcohol trailed down the corner of his mouth down his neck

There was something about him that drew you in and you couldn't place a finger on it. He finished his drink as he got up, shrugging his jacket on and for some reason, your heart fell. You didn't even know this man, but he already had a hold on you. He fixed his hair, so it was outside of his clothes as he felt his pants, making sure he had his wallet and keys, and he walked over to you as he sat on the stool beside you.

He put his hand out, a small smirk on his face, "I'm Billy, Billy Hargrove." His voice had you weak, it was thick like honey and oozed into your mind. Your hand met his as you told him your name. His right hand cupped yours, so your hand was held by both of his. His hands were rough, but they felt nice against your hand. "What's a sweet thing like you doing her on a Thursday night?" You felt your cheeks heating up, he was a smooth talker, you'd give him that.

"Had a rough day at work, just needed something to unwind." He nodded, "Could say that again." You looked at him, studying his features in case you'd never see him again. "What do you do for work?" He smiled, "I'm a mechanic. I work at the garage close to Melvald's." You nodded, knowing which one he was talking about. You forgot about your drink, immersing yourself in a conversation with him and slowly, the other patrons had left.

You felt drunk on his words and his presence. His body was close to yours; his heat was radiating off of him and your body was soaking it up. The bartender softly cleared his throat, your eyes snapping up to him. "We're getting ready to close." You nodded as well as Billy as he grabbed his stuff and you made sure you had yours before you followed him out of the bar after paying for your drink.

He opened his pack of cigarettes, putting it up to his mouth as he grabbed one with his lips. He closed the box and grabbed a lighter as he lit it as he walked in the parking lot with you. "Is the white one yours or did someone drop you off?" You nodded and he began walking you to your car. He stopped at the blue car that you parked beside as he opened the door and started it to get the heater going since it was cold.

He walked to your car, leaning against it as he continued to smoke before he asked you a question. "Do you want to go out with me?" Your stomach did flips as your heart raced. You smiled before nodding and he smiled around his cigarette. "Can I get your number?" You nodded and he handed you his red Nokia and you put your phone number in, texting yourself as your own blue Nokia buzzed in your small purse.

You handed the phone to him, and he thanked you before he tossed his cigarette on the ground and put his boot over it, crushing it twisting his foot a few times to make sure it wasn't smoking anymore. "I'll text you when I'm free. I usually close the garage Monday, Tuesday and Wednesdays, but I get off early on Fridays." You nodded, thinking about your own schedule, "I only work half days on Fridays." He nodded, "Sounds like a Friday is what will work for the both of us." You laughed and nodded.

You felt an overwhelming sense of need for him, in your heart and between your legs. His fingers brushed against your hand, squeezing your hand softly, "Goodnight, I'll text you to make plans." You nodded and smiled, "Goodnight, Billy." His hand left yours as he opened your car door, making sure you were safely in your car before he got into his own.

Tonight may have been the first time you'd see him, but it would never be the last and the two of you knew that.

[moralesluvr]

May I request Hobie x black fem reader and Hobie just thinks that she'd look good with certain piercings (vertical labret, anti-eyebrow, nipples) (just to name a few) and just decides to pierce her himself. It's just look "I think you'd look great with a Medusa" and she's like "ya got a needle?" --🐝

triple threat ft. hobie brown

♡ pairings & aus: hobie brown x fem!black!reader (reader also has locs in this one!) ♡ summary: hobie shows you some piercings he'd think you'd rock, so why not have him pierce them on you himself? ♡ warnings: one (1) swear, blood, i think that's it? ♡ got a request? | masterlist ♡

"YOU WOULD LOOK BLOODY PERFECT IN THESE." Your lover says excitingly, showing you a picture of a smiley piercing on his phone. This was nearly the hundredth piercing or tattoo idea that he's shown you in the past five minutes, but you let him have his moment because he was proud of finding one's that you could match in, but that also suit you.

"Bee, you don't even have a smiley," you hummed from your position atop the kitchen counter, where you were clad in one of Hobie's big band tees and a pair of frilly white panties. You swung your feet back and forth while Hobie walked around the kitchen, looking at more pictures.

"Alright, love-- I think I have it settled," he turns to you proudly, "You would rock a smiley, a nose ring, and an eyebrow piercin', hm? What d'ya think?"

Shrugging, you reply, "I think it's good shit. Got a needle?"

Hobie gives you a sly smirk, his lack of a verbal response letting you know that he has everything he needs. He tells you that he'll be right back before disappearing into his bedroom to grab whatever items he needed.

A few minutes later, he comes back into the kitchen with all his supplies, plus a few towels and things that you could squeeze in your hand if your pain tolerance wasn't so hot. He comes up to you, his hands rubbing both of your thighs soothingly, "If you don't wanna have me pierce 'ya, we don't have to, love, I was only giving suggestions."

You shake your head. "Go ahead. I'm okay."

He grins, pulling your pretty locs back with his bejeweled hands. He grabs a piece of jewelry that looks like an upside down horseshoe and sets it on a paper towel beside you. You spread your legs so that he can get better access to you, "Alright, 'imma admit, I'm a little nervous."

"Don't be." Hobie reassures you, his left hand craning up to tuck his index finger underneath your jaw. He tilts your head open, "Open wide f'me."

You obey, opening your mouth as you were asked. Hobie lifts your top lip up carefully and rests on a spot below your nose, "Mkay, hold it right there."

While you hold your lip and squeeze your eyes shut for the anticipating pain, your boyfriend carefully places the needle where he's going to pierce you. You expect him to give you a countdown, or something, but instead he just shoots the needle through the thin flesh of your smiley. You flinch and the only reason you don't curse is because your mouth is wide open.

"I know, I know, sweetheart- but you did so good." Hobie praises, "And no blood."

You try to say something to his statement, but it just comes out airy the way your lip is nearly touching the tip of your nose. That makes Hobie chuckle as he slides the silver piece of jewelry through the needle, slipping it into your newly punctured smiley. He opens his phone and shows you it through the camera, "Smile!"

You do, and you instantly smile wider at how cute it looks. "Thank you, baby! 'S so cute...can you do my nose next?"

Hobie nods and sanitizes all the materials he used, throwing out packing from your jewelry and other random things that you didn't care to know what they were. He walked back over to you again with a sharpie, drawing a little heart on your left nostril to mark where you'd be pierced.

"This a ring or a stud?"

"Ring, it'll look nice on you." He winks, taking the needle and pressing it through your nose quickly. Besides your eyes watering, you didn't really react much. Plus, you were practically used to Hobie's lack of a countdown for you.

"Hold on, darlin', you're bleedin' a little." He remarks, pressing a cool towel to your nose to wipe off some of the blood. He then quickly slips a silver ring inside your nose and lets you look at it.

"You ate," you giggle at him, "But I'm honestly surprised that you haven't given me nerve damage with your random pierce points."

"Uh huh, I know what I'm doing."

You ignore him to try and mentally prepare for your next and final piercing. You just knew your eyebrow would hurt, and you weren't quite sure if you could handle all of the aching and pain all at once. By the time you're done getting lost in your own mind, Hobie's ready for your last piercing. He can also tell you're overthinking.

"It's gonna be okay, love," he reassures, looking at the two dots he marked on top of your right brow. He taps your skin with the needle before pushing it through the doughy flesh before you could back out. The pain shoots straight up your head, and you nearly cry out at the sensation. You bite your lip and look up while Hobie rubs your hand with his own free one, "Shh...you're okay...did 's good. All done, yeah?"

You nod, squeezing his hand as he slid one of his own pieces of jewelry in your eyebrow that he had cleaned off. He admired you for a second, cupping your cheek with his hand, "Bloody beautiful. 'Imma take a picture."

Blinking away the tears in your eyes, you post for the picture sadly, a heartbreaking smile on your face as you threw up a peace sign. Hobie gives you a neutral, thin-lipped look, "You're an idiot. Pose right."

You shrug, giving the camera a genuine smile. As he takes the picture, you murmur through your teeth,

"I'm neva' lettin' you anywhere near a needle again."

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 ☻ thank you for reading!

𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑-𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓🕷️: @queenesther996 //@sukunas-slutty-bitch // @c3f21

[bluestar22x]

Strip Poker

Summary: You and Dieter, your new husband, play strip poker

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

Rating: 18+ (Explicit, to be safe)

Warnings: Drunken marriage, card game foreplay, strip tease, fowl language, Dieter can lift reader but no other physical descriptions are made (except she has breasts), reader wears jewelry, also I have no idea how to play poker so bear with me

Word Count: 1,300(ish)

Author’s Note: This has been in the works for months, since before I took a vacay to Vegas in September 2024. Decided to tip my hat to the hotel I stayed at. (No, the trip was not anywhere near as fun as this fic is. The girls trip was tame. It was very relaxing though and I miss vacation.)

xxx

It was sometime after midnight when you and Dieter stumbled down the long white hallway of the Bellagio towards your room, or what you thought would be your room, because when you turned to the door you realized you were on the wrong floor.

"This isn't it, Dee!" you giggled. "The beginning of the number is all wrong!"

"Oops."

He led you back to the row of elevators and you got on, shoulders bumping into each other constantly. You kissed him messily as the elevator you'd chosen went up one more floor and opened back up.

You led the way out, left hand clasp with his right meaty one, and took the route that looked most right, a feat when the halls were mostly barren and the rugs were all identical.

You found the correct door eventually, the walk to it feeling a lot longer than the previous one you'd had leaving the room earlier in the afternoon.

You slid the key card in and went to push through into the room using your body weight but Dieter stopped you, grasping the handle and holding it still to keep the door from opening wide enough to let you inside.

"Allow me, Mrs. Bravo," Dieter said with a grin, arms reaching out to you after he wedged a leather shoed foot in the door gap. "It's tradition."

You shook your head. "You're gonna to break your back, Dee."

"I insist." Dieter made grabby hands at your hips and you barked out a laugh.

You immediately covered your mouth after as he put an index finger to his mouth automatically to shush you.

"Eh, second thought, why bother be quiet now?" he questioned out loud as he shrugged. "After all, they're going to get woken up later anyway when I make you noisy."

He waggled his eyebrows mischievously and you laughed loudly again as he scooped you up and rammed the door open with his shoulder.

He dumped you on the only bed in your suite unceremoniously, only making you shake harder, and started to shrug off his black suit jacket.

"Wait, wait!" you exclaimed. "I don't want to rush this. This being our first time as husband and wife, I want it to be extra fun."

Dieter's face lit up and he smiled. "What did you have in mind, wife?"

"Well, husband," you dragged out as you turned onto you belly on the bed then sat up smoothly, "I was thinking we could do something traditional for Vegas first, ya know? Play some poker, but with a classic twist."

"Strip poker." Dieter hummed.

Lucky guess.

"I like the way you think, Mrs. Bravo. And you're drunk enough you'll lose in no time."

You shoved him a little. "Like you aren't drunk enough for both of us."

You moved past him to the clear glass table in the corner of the room and snatched up the fresh pack of cards that was lying on top of it.

You'd bought it the day before you and Dieter had flown first class to Las Vegas. It was supposed to be a weekend getaway in celebration of your new engagement, but it had turned into an impromptu wedding and honeymoon.

You'd been stressed about the wedding planning and you didn't even like your family, so Dieter had been able to convince you getting married via an Elvis impersonator would be cool. The vodka you'd been sipping on and off all afternoon had helped.

You knew you wouldn't regret it in the morning though. Being married to Dieter was all that mattered to you, not how it all went down.

Besides, Elvis had been cool, even if he hadn't been the real deal.

Dieter splayed out on the couch as you shuffled the deck of cards and planted yourself on the chair across from him, the room's glass coffee table between you.

"Good thing you picked that little white blouse and fancy pants over the traditional fluffy dress," he said with a smirk. "You'll be able to take it off more gracefully."

"If you're lucky," you retorted, winking at him.

"I already am," Dieter told you almost soberly.

Your heart skipped a beat at his honesty and you beamed at him. You never quite got used to him saying things like that to you. "Don't you forget it, Mr. Bravo."

You began dealing out the cards between you and he raised his brows. "No poker chips? Is it even poker without them?"

"I'm too drunk to care," you replied, "Besides, that's sooo not the point."

He grinned. "That's my girl. Okay, get ready to get naked."

You huffed and glanced at your cards. "You first, Dee."

He did end up first, having to take off his suit jacket after your two pair won over his pair. He was also second, when your four of a kind beat his flush despite him trying to cheat when he was handing out the cards.

You giggled at his shocked expression as you laid your hand down. "Remember, you first."

"You're usually never this lucky," he complained. "You'd never even played poker before we met. You barely understand the rules."

"Take it off! Take it off!" you chanted, snickering as you hit the table with your hands.

He unbuttoned his suit shirt and you whistled as he removed it. "Nice. Cutting to the chase I see."

He winked at you devilishly. "I know how much you like the belly."

"I do," you confirmed. "But I want more tonight."

"After we get some clothes off you," he promised.

"Sure..."

Next round Dieter did win, but you had a plan up your sleeve, and reached for the clear jeweled wedding crown on your head.

"No fair!" he called out. "A crown is not clothing."

"I still have to take it off," you said innocently. "We never said clothes only."

"Fuck. Okay, change of rules. No jewelry, you hear?"

"Sure. Though it means you'll be short on items to remove."

"You have more," he said pointedly. "I only have the earring and ring."

"True." You did have two earrings, a few rings, a bracelet, and a necklace on.

You won the turn after, and he removed a sock in defiance, making you snort.

You got him back by also taking off a sock when you followed with a loss.

For a few turns you were neck and neck. Socks gone, your bra gone, his belt gone. Then he won a second time in a row and you had to remove your shirt.

He beamed at the sight of your bare chest, like he'd found the gold at the end of a rainbow. "That's more like it."

"Pig," you snapped jokingly.

"As if you don't like it."

You nodded. "I do." You didn't just like, you loved when he played with your boobs. Especially with his mouth. And though you'd never said it aloud before, there was no doubt the sounds you made had answered that question long ago.

"Down to pants and underwear, who will win?" you inquired like a narrator of a game show. The sexually tense version of one given how low you'd let your voice drop.

"Either way me," Dieter declared. There was a bright glint in his dark eyes.

"And you were saying it wasn't a fair game."

Two high card wins and a full house later Dieter was dropping his boxer briefs while you were still in your lacy peach undies.

"All your fans would be crying knowing they're missing out on this sight," you told him, scanning him up and down, admiring the view.

"How's it feel to be the person they're jealous of?" he asked.

You smiled and got to your feet. "Pretty damn good. And pretty wet."

He moaned loudly as you approached, and you knew before you even glanced down that he was fully hard. "It's not nice to tease the loser, you know." He tilted his head towards your last remaining item of clothing. "Bad enough those are still in my way."

You gave him a sympathetic look then wrapped your arms around his shoulders and stole a quick kiss from him, not letting him deepen it when he attempted to.

Instead you backed off slightly and let your lips hover over his.

"Then why don't you do the winner's bidding and help me remove it?"

xxx

Tagged: @harriedandharassed, @trulybetty

xxx

Main Masterlist

xxx

[sukibon]

Do you have any headcannons for the delinquent road hazards? Like how they met or what they like to do outside of causing trouble?

(Your human designs for them are amazing btw!)

DELINQUENT ROAD HAZARDS HEADCANONS

BOOST

Surprisingly, he seems to be a gentle giant around kids, knowing how to keep them at peace, make them stop crying, etc. Perhaps this trait comes from his old caretaker job at the retirement home.

He has a hidden booze stash in his room.

The whole gang smokes, but he smokes the most.

He calls his S/O “toots” (if only he had one…).

He loves jewelry, but only when it doesn’t penetrate the skin.

He likes to get his fashion customized. That’s why he has a big, clunky, obnoxiously-purple chain-necklace with his name in broad letters. That’s why he also has a massive magenta-purple paint splatter on the back of his leather jacket, the letters barely writing out ‘BOOST’.

His handwriting SUCKS.

He is a VERY hairy man. Seriously, this man is a whole bush.

Originally, Boost didn’t want to do anything to his hair, but Wingo convinced him to try something new. Wingo helped him with dyeing his roots purple. Boost loved it so much that he decided to keep it. But to this day Wingo couldn’t convince him to even get his ears pierced.

DJ

He’s the craziest of them all. Think of him as the unhinged friend with the biggest cursed images gallery.

“You dare speak against ME, Devon Montegomery Johnston the Third?!”

He is fully Japanese. And he’s fluent in Japanese (and Yapanese).

He later wears blue-purple contacts, because he’s convinced that they fit his face better than his naturally dark brown (basically almost black) eyes.

His occupation is being a, you guessed it, DJ, after graduation. People love the shows he puts on and they LOVE his energy. His performing schedule is always PACKED.

He likes making playlists for his homies. He has a strange talent – he only has to hear one song a person likes to decipher what other songs they will like.

When he was a young kid, his parents made him learn the piano. At first, he was playing strictly classical music, but it slowly shifted to covers of more modern songs. Nowadays he uses his skills to create own music in his free time (mainly on a synthesizer).

Out of everyone he swears the most.

WINGO

He sucks at love. Whenever he finds someone attractive, he WILL get scared to approach them at all. If communication ever happens, it’s usually very awkward and he tries to change topics immediately.

He dropped out of college and works as a piercer and tattoo artist. Since he’s also passionate about cars, he dabbles into car modification. He has a collection of books that all revolve around different car mods (engine performance, …). His favorite part is of course designing paintjobs and installing spoilers. He lives off of energy drinks, his priority being knowledge rather than his own health.

He has piercings EVERYWHERE. Ears, tongue, … and more.

He likes to experiment with hairstyles – but the green roots and purple tips always stay.

He dyes his own hair, but he also dyes Boost’s roots and DJ’s mohawk.

An ambivert, all the way. He’s definitely cocky a lot and likes to show off his style, but most of the times he likes to be in deep focus mode. When he’s piercing or tattooing somebody, he is mostly absolutely silent. Depending on the customer it can be comforting or very awkward.

He is Half-White Half-Asian.

His natural hair color is light brown, but he never liked to leave it just as is. Before the green-purple style he bleached his tips blonde.

SNOT ROD

He likes to write poetry, even if the rhymes do seem kinda sappy.

He’s really into 70s aesthetics. It’s represented in his snazzy pants, the matching belt and of course the dress shoes. He made quite the bargain.

Speaking of his fashion, he likes thrifting.

Ever since he joined the gang, the other three always have small tissue packs with them at all times.

He likes weightlifting. Him and Boost hit the gym together, but he gets overwhelmed when Boost gets too into it and starts yelling at him to do more reps.

He likes the look of piercings, but when Wingo gave him his first piercing (a septum piercing) he vowed to never get one again because of the sheer pain.

these are my headcanons for now, will update the list when i remember some of them again :3