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#use your brother as a back roller
demongrunge · 4 months
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floor gang
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fingertipsmp3 · 2 months
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No one:
Me: does anyone want to hear what my sims family did today
#i am fucking neck deep in the sims 2 super collection and will not be resurfacing any time soon#so far nannies are causing ALL of my problems in this neighbourhood it’s actually ridiculous#tell me why this bitch; instead of waiting for my sim to get home from work and pay her; left early and stole one of our kitchen counters#and THE TODDLER’S XYLOPHONE?? what was it all for#then she refused to come back the next day so i had to keep the teenager home to watch his little brother. SHERYL WHEN I FIND YOUUUU#thank god i managed to resurrect his grades#also in a different family the kid aged up into the fucking whiniest person in the world. and i’m trying to find him a person#but he doesn’t like ANYONE. it’s exhausting. i’m playing the prosperity challenge right? which means i started out with four CAS families#all with kids about the same age. and i was hoping some of them would like each other so i could start merging families next generation#but one of my boys was like ‘nope i like this random girl’ and another was like ‘nope i found a really boring boy’#and another was like ‘i like the paper girl!’ but why do none of you like EACH OTHER. answer me that#i’m not sending all of your boring significant others to college with you. you can have your high school sweetheart with the alien eyes#because she’s pretty cool looking; but the cookie cutter boy and the paper girl might have to stay home to be honest#what else is happening. i mean i renovated a maxis dorm and built some really rubbish community lots#i’m horrendous at building. i go for function over aesthetics so i end up with really boring buildings#but the neighbourhood now has a cemetery; a general store/coffee shop and a roller rink/arcade#so that’s kind of nice. not that anyone USES these businesses. i sent one of the boys there to look for his future spouse and just found#somebody’s dad repeatedly falling over#maybe once they all get to college i can just do some sort of forced proximity love potion situation and they’ll HAVE to like each other#i don’t want to add too many households to the neighbourhood and only one of my original families has one kid#that’s why i want as many people as possible to marry off. BUT NO ONE LIKES EACH OTHER it’s so annoyingggg#personal
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inkskinned · 8 months
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what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?
i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?
a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?
in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.
girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.
there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.
for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.
something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.
is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.
most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."
a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.
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hysteria-things · 2 months
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i REALLYYY need a sub matt fic plsss i read the one when he gets hard from seeing her in a bathing suit but can u do one where the triplets are like filming a video and she like like bends down to get something and sees how flustered it makes matt so then she just continues to do stuff like that like stand in front of him and "accidentally" backing up into him yea like stuff like that u know the rest 😁😁😁 (if so could u pls add a little bit of a mommy kink obviously if not that's totally fine)
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PLEASE ME
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sub!matt x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: while filming a video with the sturniolo triplets, you notice matt acting strange so abruptly. when you realize what it’s about, you want to take advantage of it.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FILTHY, unintentional teasing lol, handjob, p in v, mommy kink, begging kink, praising, a little degradation, overstimulation, unprotected sex (don’t do that!), breeding, ROUGH
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 912
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: these requests are literally all the same LMAO
i’m sorry if the mommy kink isn’t RAGING for some reason typing that out makes me cringe a little😭
EDIT: hi second anon i’m very sorry i forgot to put the tata sucking that’s so my bad💔
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matt couldn’t help but stare. the boys decided to go roller skating for fun and film for wednesday’s vlog. currently, matt’s at the booth you guys picked out to rest while his brothers are still on the floor.
you wanted to rest your feet as well, so for now, you’re in charge of filming the two over the loud music and other people.
he watches as your body is hunched over the wall dividing the rink to the main area, your skirt lifted ever so slightly. you look so attractive to him, his pants tightening as he looks in your direction.
“that’s good for now, thanks y/n!” chris says as he skates by, giving you a thumbs up.
your giggle fills matt’s ears, his hips having a mind of their own. he thrusts softly into the edge of the table, whining lowly.
“are you alright?” you question, now standing in front of his face.
his eyes are wide like he’s scared. you have a look of genuine fear on your face because he’s been acting fine all night until this moment. “holy shit, matt. seriously, are you okay?”
“i-i need to use the bathroom.” he stammers, quickly getting out of his skates and speed-walking to the other side of the building.
“matt, hold on!” you call out, but he ignores you. you stumble to get your skates off, sprinting after the boy.
catching up to him as he’s about to enter the boy’s room, you grab his wrist and turn him around. his eyes are tearing up as if he’s about to start crying or something. “matt, what the hell?”
“it hurts.” he pouts, looking down at the ground.
face visibly confused, you try to figure out what the fuck he’s talking about. “what hurts?”
he slowly removes his jacket from in front of his pants, revealing the raging boner through his jeans. “oh.”
his lip quivers, still avoiding eye contact from the embarrassment. “it hurts so fucking bad.” he whines louder.
honestly, you feel bad for him, but that doesn’t mean you still can’t help… right?
before his brain can comprehend what’s going on, you push him into the restroom and lock the door, laying him down on the ottoman that’s in the center of the spacious room.
biting your lip, you bring your hand down to the inside of his pants, palming him through his underwear. he moans desperately, a wet spot forming from the pre-cum.
he’s so sensitive that he’s twitching already, and that’s your sign to wrap your small hand around his dick, moving up and down.
“what a pretty boy, you are.” you coo, his eyes fluttering back with a positive hum. taking your thumb, you move it on his swollen tip. his poor dick is aching for a release, or even better, to be inside of you.
you feel him tighten, moving your hand faster and faster with each pump. squirming rapidly below you, he sticks his tongue out from the pleasure. “i’m gonna cum!” he moans.
you tut. “ask.”
he mewls, eyes closing shut while panting uncontrollably. “please let me cum, mo—”
you smirk amusingly, knowing damn well what was going to fall past his lips. “who?”
sniffling, he now looks at you with a pleading face. “can i cum, mommy?”
giving permission, he spurts his hot liquid down his shaft, but you don’t stop. you keep pumping, hovering over him and slipping your panties to the side with your free hand. “such a good boy.” you praise.
he loves that.
matt hisses once you start to bounce slowly on his cock, still feeling stimulated from his high. it hurts him, but it feels too good at the same time.
his mouth hangs wide, eyes rolling to the back of his head when you start to gradually get faster.
whines and whimpers echo along the walls. thank goodness the music is so loud outside, otherwise people will be able to hear how pathetic he sounds.
you moan too, but not as loud as he is. his voice mind as well be gone by the end of this.
the way your walls engulf him perfectly rubs him the right way, biting his lip and whining nonstop. you whisper praises into his ear, knowing that it gets him closer.
“mo-mmy.” he says high-pitched. “please let me cum i-inside you. please, mommy.”
the begging has you clench, lips ghosting his. “you’re so pathetic right now, i love it.”
eyes crossing, he spills deep into your cunt you can feel it in your stomach. he shakes his head frantically. “e-enough. it hurts too good!”
“come on, baby.” you kiss him sloppily, hands tangling in his hair and tugging at it in the process. “you don’t want mommy to milk you dry?”
tears start trickling down his cheeks, and cries and sobs of pleasure enter your mouth as he tries to kiss you back.
the previous orgasm still leaks, but another one comes rushing in. he’s cumming so much to the point where you’re full, and the rest smears out of the sides of your pussy.
moaning one final time, you release what you were holding around him.
he twitches at the slightest touch, eyes still crossed from the ecstasy that flowed through his body in the short amount of time.
it’s crazy to think about, but you were best friends at the beginning of the night. now the night ended with you pumped full of his cum.
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𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
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stvolanis · 2 months
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oh nothinggg, just thinking about Spooky x Bimbo! Reader
god, Spooky can’t stand you. always wearing those shorts—the ones that your ass cheeks hang out in. running around with your flimsy tube tops, nipples peeking through. Somehow being mixed into his brothers friend group, but not being involved in their messes. You were kinda just the friend they kept around cause your daddy sells weed to the people in Brentwood, so they got major discounts! but of course they loved you.
god, the amount of times he’s gotten a flash of the thin little hot pink thong straps you wear—or when you bend over to pick up something right in front of him; he thinks you’re doing it on purpose at this point! So he’s puzzled when you stand back up and whip around with an oblivious smile and innocent look in your eyes. He always has to do the thinking for you cause your silly brain can’t really comprehend what’s going on with the freakin roller world money your friends keep blabbering about that spooky wasn’t supposed to know about! Too bad, you already told him when you were mindlessly yapping about your day!
he would totally say something like, “didn’t know I was gettin a free show, baby.” After he walked in on your trying to shimmy off your skin tight, mid thigh dress. You blushed and weakly tried to shove him out of the room, only in your panties and matching bra. But it was like pushing a brick wall, and the way your clothed breasts pressed against him had him going crazy! So he felt like his body acted on its own when he grabbed the flesh of your ass with one hand, and your throat with the other.
He inhaled your scent, muttering a string of profanities in his mother tongue as he kissed the side of your jaw. “Been tempting me too much lately, cariño. M’only a man at the end of the day.” He breathed against you, watching the way your shorter body trembled under his touch. “I have needs. N’ it’s your job to take care of them like I always take care of you, ma.”
so of course as soon as he said that, his hand harshly pulled your bra down, exposing your breasts to him. He pinched one of your nipples, pulling it a little before releasing. Soon, your knees collided with the hard wood beneath you’d, and his cock was slapping against your cheek, leaving a trail of his sticky pre-cum. “S’right, niña. Put that pretty mouth to better use.” He smirked—that fucking smirk. The one that made you week in the knees.
You knew you were done for.
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don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!
TAG LIST: @elvisalltheway101 @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @littlehoneyposts @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @luxuriouslokistan-3 @foxevxid @sapriao @xiyingly @jazminsjaz @likeits2002 @www-interludeshadow-com @khxna @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @hockeyrat @rafeswhorejjsslut @peterpan-neverfails @sunflowerskenz @lemonadygirl @newavenger @bloobewy
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belphies-cowgirl · 10 months
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obey me headcanons pt. 4
word count: 5K+ (oops went a little overboard, hope this doesn't flop though)
Lucifer
he has his records organized alphabetically (Satan & Belphie rearrange them at least once a month) 
he once stood in the kitchen at 3 am cutting up fruits and veggies into pretty designs for his brothers to eat for breakfast (even princess's poison apples in the shape of cats for Satan) but they all assumed you made them and you just agreed while half asleep at the table.
Mammon 
keeps all the notes you take for him in class in a folder hidden in the back of his closet (he never bothered to study half of them) 
shoves hell-sauce-flavored ramen cups under his couch when he doesn't feel like throwing them away. you found them all one time and he was so embarrassed and stuttering so much you thought he was gonna pass out. 
Levi 
dusts his figurines twice a week and has to have his manga lined up neatly in numerical order by series (he WILL hover while you put back one of his mangas that you borrowed)
once fainted when you came into his room cosplaying as one of his favorite characters. poor baby needed a few days to recover after that. but you looked so perfect wearing it and it made his heart explode on sight.
he is crazy talented at digital art, it's a secret hobby of his. you just assume he orders digital prints of your favorite characters off akuzon for you. but he's too shy and embarrassed to tell you he's the one who made them. he thinks you'll reject them if you find out. but it's just another way he shows his love for you, even if you don't know about it. 
Satan 
has cat hair all over his room (obviously) and used-up lint rollers under his bed. he wears a sweater and acts like no one can see all that cat hair.
has specific bookmarks for each genre, but he'll replace some of them with any bookmarks you make/give him. his favorite is the cat bookmark with a bell tied at the end of the string you got him for his birthday (sometimes he shakes the book to hear it jingle)
Asmo 
signs his name in cursive with a little heart after the "o"
sometimes he rubs his nose against yours and then walks away. don't question why, he doesn't need a reason to show you his undying love and affection.
he once shrieked when he found out Beel had accidentally eaten one of his bath bombs. that must explain why Beel sneezed glitter in the common room later that night. 
Beel 
keeps the receipts from all of the places you've both eaten at together.
loves it when you bring home leftover jam/sauce packets for him (he loves the mini-apocalyptic apple ones) 
loves it when you pack extra snacks into his duffle before Fangol games. he'll sit on a bench in the locker room after a game and happily munch on them while blushing. you're so sweet for always doing that, he'll reward you with forehead kisses when he gets back to the HoL.
Belphie 
will surprisingly spend time reorganizing his bed in the attic because he stole more of your plushies and has to make room for them (he picks one to curl up with each week) he refuses to give them back but will pout and whine when you say you want them back. if you try to take one back while he's napping his tail will reach out for it and hide it under the covers.
is a little shit (a brat and a menace but anyways <3) he'll whine when you try to get up from under the covers or if you move too much in your sleep. he'll wrap his tail around your leg or waist to keep you from moving. you went to stand up one time and fell forward because his tail was wrapped tightly around your ankle. he glared at you, scoffed, then rolled over, mumbling about how you're always so noisy and clumsy. 
Diavolo 
used to feed the Little D's. Barbatos found out about it because they kept leaving crumbs behind, and later scolded Diavolo and the Little D's. 
keeps a little figurine you got him as a good luck charm on his desk while he does paperwork. sometimes it distracts him because he'll glance at it and start smiling like an idiot just thinking about you, he always shoots you a text afterward.
Barbatos
listens to metal/rock and I refuse to believe otherwise.
sometimes lets the Little D's listen to music while they attend to their daily duties. they'll end up singing and dancing, but one glance from him and they get back to work immediately. 
Simeon 
leaves cute little notes in your locker or slips them into your textbooks/notebooks for you to find later in class. "good luck on your exam today! :)" or if he's feeling romantic, "you look even more ethereal than usual today <3" he has so much romantic rizz and is completely oblivious about it most of the time. like yeah, you totally just swooned and blushed for no reason.
has really good memory. he'll remember almost anything you say or do, but won't remember anything when it comes to technology. he'll be sitting next to you and randomly bring up the most specific thing that you did two months ago on a Friday. yet he can't remember how to check his call log or change a contact picture (he tries to change yours a lot because he just can't decide which picture to use, they're all so perfect)
Solomon 
drinks tea and coffee out of flasks and beakers sometimes because he's too lazy to wash a few mugs. 
he’s basically “malewife” material, but he does NOT need to be in the kitchen. there's a reason why you carry a mini container of antacids with you. he'll lowkey pout when he notices you keep making excuses for not eating his food. come on, one bite won't hurt, he put so much love into that oozing sandwich that just moved a little bit on the plate.
lets you doodle on his notes during class (he teases you about it every time) he writes around the doodles and will cut them out once he no longer needs the notes. he uses them as bookmarks or keeps them in his little memento box. he's the type to keep movie tickets and polaroids with the date written on the back. he kept a polaroid of you making a surprised face when you realized he was taking a picture of you sitting on his bed wearing a facemask and snacking while scrolling on your D.D.D. 
Luke 
keeps a mini first-aid kit in his backpack. did you get a papercut? he's got a bandaid on standby.
he’ll sometimes leave a sweet treat in your locker for you to eat during lunch (in a tupperware container in case you wanna save it for later) he's so precious and puts so much love into his baking.
hides frosting tubes in his nightstand drawer. will throw them all away in a random trashcan at RAD when he's finished with them. can't have Simeon questioning the sudden pile of frosting tubes in the trashcan, which are coincidentally Luke's favorite flavors.
✄ ——————————————————————
feel free to comment, reblog, shoot me a message, or an ask <3
please do not use my work as your own! 
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wifihunters · 4 months
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There's something to be said for the strangeness of therapy and understanding not only why you do things, but why certain things make you feel like Death for no reason and sometimes why other people do things as well.
And its all well and good except its... tiring.
You go, you pay, you scoop out the seeds and flesh with a blunt spoon until you hit the rind, and then you sit there across from a sad, kind professional while the two of you try to sort out how to put it back together.
And no one thanks you for it outright. Your mom calls and you actually pick up for the first time in a month and she says you sound clearer. Your brother has nothing to say about the amphetamines in your bag because he knows something changed enough that he says an "I love you" at the end of a visit and gets one back. Your wife pulls you back to reality and you find affection and touch tolerable enough to do the same for her the week after without your skin crawling.
But then you start to feel muscles pull and things strain. Anger comes (real anger, not snapped frustration, not survival fighting, but deep, indignant flares) and it fires like an engine left to coagulate for years. It feels like an unwieldy hammer too large to control and too easy to swing all at once. You're afraid to pick it up. You're more afraid to have it taken away again.
So you start to demolish your own foundation. You find the rotten pylons holding up your childhood and leave them in the mud. You cannot move them now, only balance new beams better than your parents did.
Then the hardest room is next. The cozy sitting room with the day bed you kept open all hours and days for anyone to rest on, it goes down with the rotten floor. You never knew the mold had reached out here--you thought that was hidden behind the other doors, under your own bed, not in this space. Not here in the warm light of pride, of being kind and useful, where you curled up in too small of a chair and basked, knowing you had earned love with your tired limbs and heavy eyes. You drag the day bed to the curb and apologize to everyone who knocks. The new floor is bare and cold, the silence echoes in the empty room, but you start to ponder what color paint you might like to decorate yourself in. The roller is lighter than you expected. Maybe the bedroom deserves a coat.
And you brace for some pushback. Not everyone likes the color. Someone else compliments the new couch (only a couch now, an overnight bed for the cats and no one else) and someone else asks why you took the old one to the dump without telling them first. Some of them leave. Some of them put a crack in your newly painted drywall as they do. Others stay, asking if movie night is still on. You wipe your eyes and sweep the dust and ask if they'd like a drink before starting. The foundation shivers, but the walls remain.
Its mundane and earth-shattering and boring and the most terrifying all at once. No one will stop you from quitting. Healing is voluntary and the easiest responsibility on a long list to drop, and yet now that the mold is gone you understand, maybe, what it might be like to even want a home in your own mind and skin. Not a hotel, carefully crafted with beige walls and fluffed pillows, but a home.
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cameronspecial · 4 months
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Teach Me To Shave, Daddy
Pairing: Dad!Drew Starkey x Reader
Warnings: N/A
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 0.5K
Summary: Tristan shows interest in shaving.
Masterlist
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Drew stands in front of the mirror with his razor in his hand. The shaving cream slides off as the blades cut through the tiny strands of hair. He places the head of the razor into the water to shake off the puffy white foam. He thinks nothing of the footsteps approaching the bathroom, thinking his wife is just coming to get something. Maybe she is getting the dirty laundry from the hamper. “What are you doing, Daddy?” a tiny voice calls out. The razor lowers from his face and he looks over to see Tristan. The boy’s shirt is slightly big and stained with red blotches from breakfast. His hair is brushed downwards by his mother. His eyes are wide with curiosity. Drew sets the shaving tool down on the counter, “I’m shaving, Tris.” “Why?” the inquisitive boy asks.
“It’s what daddies do to get rid of their beards.” 
“Can you teach me to shave, Daddy? Please.” 
Drew smiles at his son and nods. He picks up his son, placing him on the counter beside the sink. He holds up the can of shaving cream and a razor, “This is a razor. It has little knives at the top to cut the hair. This is shaving cream. It helps stop the small knives from cutting your skin. I’m going to put some cream on your face, but I’m not giving you a razor. I don’t want you to hurt yourself. Okay?” The young dirty blond nods. Drew looks around the room to see what they can use as a fake razor. His eyes land on Y/N’s jade roller and goes to get it. Once he hands it to his son, he squirts some foam into his hand and gives his son a little beard. He points to the little boy’s reflection in the mirror, causing Tristan to giggle at the sight. “I look like you now, Daddy!” he exclaims. Drew’s head bobs, “You do and a little like Santa.” The father turns toward the mirror again. He brings the razor back to his face, “Daddy is going to start at the top of the foam and slowly go down. Now, you try with your razor.” Drew watches as Tristan sets the roller on his face and rolls it down to his chin, bringing the white puff with it. “Like that Daddy?” Tristan seeks approval. “Yep and then you wash the razor off in the water and do it again,” he explains, demonstrating what he said. 
The boys repeat the task until all the bubbly substance is off their faces. Drew pats a little aftershave on the boy’s cheeks and chuckles at the look of satisfaction on his face. “Let’s go show, Mommy,” Drew suggests. He picks his son up and carries him to the living room where Y/N and Millie are watching TV. “Look, Mommy. I shaved,” Tristan cries for attention. “Wow, you look amazing. I have to say, your moustache was driving me crazy,” she jokes. Millie examines both their faces and untangles herself from he mother’s hold to run to her father. “I want to shave too!” she informs, reaching her arms up to be picked up. He takes her into his arms with her brother, “Of course, you can learn. To the bathroom.” He turns to head back to the bathroom with both of his children. A grin crosses his face when he hears his wife’s footsteps follow. “Don’t leave Mommy behind.”
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @victory-in-the-llama @starkowswife @drewsmusee
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midnightsnyx · 9 days
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Quinn Hughes - meet cute
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pairing: quinn hughes x reader
requested: yes / no
a/n: it’s super late but I hope you like it anyways! requests are open & here is the link for my writing guide
word count: 750 words
You’ll admit, it isn’t exactly your most dignified moment, sitting on the dirty floor with your arm stuck in the vending machine but you were sure you’d be able to reach the bag of chips if you just reached in. Instead, you look like an idiot who didn’t think before you did it. It’s late and you know most people have left the roller skating rink at this point, including your friends who you brushed off when they offered to come with you while you grabbed a snack before you left.
So, you’re sitting on the floor waiting for someone to walk by because your phone died before you could call anyone. It’s been over twenty minutes and your arm is starting to feel a bit numb when you hear someone. You stretch as far as you can to see who it is, hopefully security or maintenance, but it’s a group of guys. They look familiar and you can’t quite put your finger on it but it’s the last thing on your mind at this point because you can’t feel your fingertips.
They’re laughing about something and clearly haven’t noticed you yet which is why one of them nearly trips over you. He catches himself from falling and looks down at you in surprise.
“Oh shit,” he says with wide eyes. “Are you okay?”
You gesture to your trapped arm. “No.”
Normally, you’d feel bad for being so short with someone but you were hoping for someone who could help you with your current situation and these three don’t look like they’ll be very helpful.
“How’d you get your arm stuck in there?” One of them asks curiously, kneeling down next to you and peering inside where your arm is.
You can feel your cheeks heating up and embarrassment takes over. They’re all cute, but the one kneeling next to you catches your eye.
“I was trying to reach the chips when they got stuck,” you mumble and he presses his lips together like he’s trying not to smile. He clears his throat when you scowl at him, and he looks back at your arm.
“I think we can get it out,” he murmurs, reaching his hand in and gripping your arm. He gently twists your wrist and pulls on your arm and it comes out easily.
You shake your arm until feeling starts to return before looking at him. He’s still kneeling next to you and watching for your reaction.
“Thanks,” you eventually say, standing up and he quickly scrambles to his feet.
“I’m Quinn,” he says and offers his hand. You shake it and tell him your name before looking at the two other guys standing behind him. He must notice your attention is elsewhere because he glances at them. “That’s Jack and Luke.”
It suddenly clicks why they look so familiar.
The Hughes brothers.
“Um, I was gonna grab something to eat at the diner across the road, if you wanted to come with,” he says and Luke mumbles, “you were?”
You don’t miss Jack stepping on Luke’s foot, and you cough to cover a laugh.
“Sure,” you tell him and his face lights up.
“Awesome,” he says, trying to play it cool but his brothers are grinning at him like fools.
“Catch you back at the apartment Quinn,” Jack says, already walking away and pulling Luke with him.
You can hear Luke mumbling, “I didn’t know he was going out. He didn’t even ask us.”
. . .
It’s a 24 hour diner and your phone is dead so you don’t realize how fast the time is going until Quinn looks at his phone and swears under his breath.
“I’ve got practice at 8,” he says and shows you the time.
2:38am
Then he pauses, and looks at you.
“I’m a hockey player,” he explains and you realize that he doesn’t think that you know who he is.
“I know,” you tell him and he pauses again before: “you should come to a game sometime. I mean, y’know if you want to. No pressure. Since we just met.”
And as endearing as his rambling is, you decide to put him out of his misery.
“I’d like that,” you tell him. “Just send me the time and place.”
. . .
He ended up scoring 3 goals and 2 assists that game. When he points to you after his third goal, and he mouths “that one was for you”, you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe this can go somewhere.
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gigglinggoddess · 2 months
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What kind of beauty do the Sinclair brothers like? GN READER.
This a headcanon, not meant to insult or make anyone insecure! Everyone is beautiful in their own way!
I'm so sorry if the writing is terrible, on mobile AND WRITERS BLOCK!!
Vincent Sinclair
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Classic beauty.
- Growing up, Vincent loved movies. He was starstruck by the people on the television.
-He used to draw old movie stars, and his fashion taste for his wax figures is old-timey. (If he chooses to dress them)
- He loves plaid dresses and dress shirts. He loves slicked-back hair and big curls (either natural or from hair rollers.)
- If he had a S/O that had a classic beauty, a timeless thing, he’d used them as a muse for everything. (Regardless, he'd use his S/O as a muse no matter what.)
- He loves radio voices, smooth-sounding voices, and sweet. He’d adore a S/O with a voice like that and would want to lay his head on their lap as they talked.
Bo Sinclair
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Modern Beauty.
- This man loves SLUTS!!!(jk) He is a traditional man, but when he sees victims wearing skimpy stuff and modern fashion, he's lovin’ it.
-He likes the breath of youthfulness, which makes it more interesting for him.
-Loves tight clothing, dyed hair, and all that. He's intrigued by it; it's unique to him even though, in the real world, it's normal.
-Will watch you do your makeup, in confusion.
-He likes modern people, because he's not and he (secretly) wishes he was.
Lester Sinclair
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Natural beauty.
-This man loves the forest, he loves nature a lot. So when he looks at you, raw beauty, it reminds him on nature.
-He would never want you to wear makeup; he thinks you're so beautiful how you are (he would still shower you with compliments if you put it on, though.)
-Loves flaws: wonky teeth? Loves them. Spilt ends? Loves them. Acne? Loves it. Scars? Loves them. STRECH MARKS?? IS OBSESSED!! You'll never have to be embarrassed about your body, face, or any of it with him because he wants you just how you are.
-He knows he ain't the best-looking so it truly shocked him when someone like you, naturally perfect (to him), loves him! He also knows you appreciate his natural beauty too, or so he hopes.
-Will compare you to plants and animals, in A LOVING WAY!!!
A/N: Lester, my love. If anyone has any fanfics of Lester, I am begging, SEND THEM MY WAY PLEASE!!
Anyway, please tell me what you think. I KNOW THE WRITING IS BAD; I write fanfics much better ong. Which is your favorite Sinclair brother? I'm a huge Lester fan (obviously); he's my husband.
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tongue-like-a-razor · 11 months
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Brother's Best Friend - Part 7
Jake Seresin x F!Reader
A/N: Yay we're finally back with our favorite BBF! This chapter was inspired by a photo of Glen at an amusement park that's been floating around recently. If anyone could convince me to step foot into a haunted house, it would be Jake.
Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.
CW: Haunted house attraction with mild (fake) gore, swearing, SLOW BURN YOU'VE BEEN WARNED DON'T COME FOR ME XD
WC: 3000+
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Masterlist
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“I don’t do haunted houses,” you say when Jake makes the suggestion for the fourth time that afternoon.
He and Bradley have just returned from the river log ride completely soaked and stupidly giddy. Jake raises his eyebrows at you. “You’ll go on the tallest roller coaster in the park but you’re afraid of a couple of zombie clowns?”
You cringe. “What the fuck are zombie clowns?”
Jake shrugs. “Whatever they are. It’ll be fun.”
“You’re really selling it,” you respond dryly. “But I think I’ll stick to the funnel cake.” You nod toward the stand a few yards away.
“You already skipped out on the log ride,” Bradley complains.
You eye his still-dripping shorts with a grimace. “It’s barely 60 degrees,” you say, tugging up on the zipper of your hoodie for emphasis.
Jake plants himself across from you at the bistro table and leans into it to get your attention. “You don’t actually want to sit here by yourself for another hour, do you?”
You shrug, glancing around. “I don’t mind, actually,” you say, your gaze drifting with the crowd as you pick out the best looking males. “I got asked out twice while you two were gone.”
Jake makes a disgruntled sort of face like he’s getting impatient. “Who asked you out?” he says with a hint of distaste as though he already disapproves. He glances around at the crowd of passersby suspiciously.
“Well, they’re gone now.”
Jake lets out an irritable sigh and looks back at you. “Come on, you’re not a wimp, Bradshaw.”
You shake your head. “That’s not going to work.”
“Let’s just go, Jake,” Bradley says. “We can’t force her.”
Jake stares at Bradley. “Didn’t you hear her? She’s being approached by random men. We can’t just leave her here.”
Bradley snorts. “Why not?”
Jake appears uncomfortable, but only for a moment. He shifts his weight in the chair and turns back to you. “I distinctly remember all three of us at Castle Frankenstein like ten years ago.”
“Mm-hm,” you reply. “And, since then, I don’t do haunted houses.”
Jake grimaces. “Why not?”
You give him a flat look. “You don’t remember?”
Jake furrows his brows and shakes his head.
“Oh yeah!” Bradley exclaims. “Good times.”
You stare at your brother crossly and then roll your eyes.
Jake glances between the two of you inquisitively. “All I remember is getting hot dogs right after,” he says.
You sigh. “You two assholes told me it wouldn’t be scary and then, after luring me in, you took off laughing! You left me behind to do the whole thing by myself.”
Bradley is chuckling smugly, but Jake looks mildly horrified. “Wow, we were shitheads,” he says with a cringe.
“Dude, we’re still shitheads,” Bradley points out.
Jake looks up at his friend with a wince and then rubs his forehead guiltily. “Y/N,” he says. “I promise you that, if you come, we’re not gonna ditch you.”
“Speak for yourself,” Bradley says with a playful grin.
Jake gives him a stern look before glancing back at you. “I promise I won’t ditch you.”
You watch him skeptically, your arms folded over your chest.
“You trust me, don’t you?” he asks.
You purse your lips, trying not to be swayed by the slight squint of Jake’s eyes when he gives you a hopeful smile. You can’t help but daydream for a moment. You picture yourself being chased by zombie clowns with Jake by your side, holding your hand. And, if they’d get too close, maybe he would knock them out to keep you safe.
“Come on, sugar,” Jake says, interrupting your thoughts. He starts rising from him seat and holds out a hand for you. “We can use Bradley as a shield.”
You snort while Bradley shakes his head with a chuckle. “You can try,” he replies, starting for the haunted house.
You let out a sigh and take Jake’s hand, letting him drag you out of your chair. “I’m already regretting this decision,” you mutter.
Jake laughs. “This is gonna be fun!”
You gulp nervously as you step into the darkness. The moment the doors close behind you, your hand reaches out for one of the guys, making sure you're not alone. Somebody gives you a pat on the arm, silently reassuring as you advance. Suddenly, a loud bang to your right makes you jump, and you hear Jake's snicker right before he moves behind to lay a comforting hand on your shoulder.
“Wicked,” you hear Bradley say as he travels slightly ahead of you. You follow your brother with Jake close behind, probably much closer than he would be in broad daylight, especially with Bradley just a few steps away.
“Remember,” Jake mutters from behind. “If you don’t run, they won’t chase you.”
You whimper. “Who won’t chase me?”
In the sparse, flashing lights, you see your brother take off down the hallway, setting off several animatronics as he goes. You slow your pace and Jake, who is still sopping wet, walks right into you. The sudden chill of his saturated clothes takes you by surprise and you yelp, springing away from him.
Jake leaps after you to grab your arm when you nearly trip over the cadaver that falls out of the wall and right into your path. “Having fun?” he asks facetiously as he helps you regain your balance, and you can sense the grin on his face without even seeing it.
“I hate you for making me do this,” you hiss.
Jake wraps an arm around your shoulders and gives them a squeeze. “You’re doin’ great, sweet cheeks.”
You wince at the cold seeping through your shirt and wriggle out of his grasp. “Seresin, you’re all wet!”
“Sorry,” he mutters sheepishly.
Just then, a large gust of air hits you from the side and you scream, flinging yourself right back into Jake’s arms. Jake pulls you in immediately and spins you away, blocking the air current with his back. But your relief is short-lived because, out of nowhere, two clowns with melting faces come barreling toward you with their arms outstretched.
You scream and, despite the sudden weakness in your limbs, start sprinting down the dimly lit corridor, completely forgetting Jake's instructions.
Jake catches up to you quickly and when the clowns all but overtake you, he curls his arm around your waist and practically lifts you off the ground as he runs.
When you finally round the bend and lose the clowns, Jake slows down and releases you, letting you catch your breath as he places his hands on his hips and takes a look around. “That was awesome,” he says with a huge smile.
You’re still gasping for air when you look up at him with a scowl. “You’re a lunatic if you enjoyed that.”
He claps you on the back. “Don’t worry, darlin’. We’re almost half-way through.”
“We’re not even half-way done?” you whine.
Jake chuckles. “Admit it, you’re having a blast,” he says.
You whimper quietly when he motions for you to follow him down another dark hallway. “I am never letting you talk me into this nonsense again,” you grumble, staying close behind him just in case another zombie clown pops out of the shadows.
But what you do not anticipate is the vibrating floor that makes you jerk backward, nor the fog that suddenly floods the corridor, nor the alarming screams that attack from all directions, making it impossible to communicate. You feel the floorboards shift underneath your feet and you hold out your arms to stabilize yourself. You stagger backward into a wall, and it rotates behind you, further disorienting you.
“Jake?” you cry, realizing that you’ve lost him in all the commotion. But your voice is drowned out by the continuous screaming still reverberating all around you.
In the flashes of light, you can see dozens of hands rattling a chain-link fence that looks like it won’t hold for very much longer. You try to push your way back through the wall – the way you came in – but it doesn't budge, meaning you’re stuck in this room until you find another way out.
“Jake!” you yell again, terror rooting you to the spot. The fence to your right finally rips open and gangly arms start stretching out toward you, making you jolt backward. You shriek, moving along the wall slowly because you’re too afraid to fall into another trap.
You reach the end of the chamber, which opens up to a tunnel, and whimper tragically. Going in will surely mean that you will have to complete the haunted maze without Jake, but the tunnel is probably the only way out of this room.
You only have a second to deliberate however, because at that moment, the fence behind you comes crashing down and a horde of zombies escapes. In the shadows, it looks like there might be more than half a dozen of them stumbling in your direction, tripping over one another to get to you.
If you don’t run, they won’t chase you. If you don’t run, they won’t chase you.
But the zombies are still coming, their hideous shrieks even more off-putting than their decaying faces.
You lunge into the tunnel and sprint faster and faster even as the passageway dips and winds and darkens. At a certain point, you are forced to stop running because it gets too dark to find your way without holding your hands out to feel the curve of the walls.
And then you hear his voice.
“Y/N!”
“Oh my god! Jake!” you screech.
“Y/N?” he yells back.
You start pushing on the solid wall before you because it sounds like he’s right on the other side. “Jake, where are you?” You can hear the zombies gaining on you further up the tunnel and you sob, “Jake, please get me out of here.”
Suddenly, a door creaks open to your right and you start, cowering from the blinking red light that filters into the pitch black passage. But then you see Jake’s broad-shouldered silhouette enter through the opening and, in your relief, you throw yourself right into him, burying your face into his chest as his arms close around your back. His grip tightens as you clutch onto the front of his soaked shirt, and you can feel his mouth over the top of your head. “I’ve got you,” he mutters into your hair. “I’ve got you.”
But before you can sink into the feeling of having Jake Seresin’s strong arms supporting your trembling frame, you hear the sound of footsteps as the zombies come hurtling through the tunnel. Without a word, Jake pulls you sideways, tucking you and himself behind the open door. He brings a finger to his lips when he sees that you’re about to cry out, and you hold your breath, watching the flashing lights illuminate the exhilaration in his eyes.
You close your own eyes as the zombies near, deciding that no amount of attention from Jake is worth participating in this traumatizing experience. And you promise yourself that you will never be swayed by his stupid, irresistible smile again.
That’s when you feel his body brush up against yours. You open your eyes to see his face hovering over your own, watching you intently as the zombies race by your hiding spot. His mouth curls into a smirk when it becomes apparent that his plan has worked as expected. You try your best to concentrate on the direct threat of flesh-eating zombies and not on his leg that’s pressed into your thigh, or his hand that you suddenly notice is gripping your hip, but it isn’t easy prioritizing escape when his eyes are dancing with delight only about three inches from your face.
You want him to kiss you. You want him to kiss you so badly. Right here in the darkness, concealed behind a heavy, wooden door, surrounded by a dense mist and a musty smell, with the added ambience of distant screams in the background. But, of course, you aren’t going to voice this desire. Because that would be more terrifying than getting eaten alive by a bunch of zombie clowns. So, instead, you say, “Get me the fuck out of here, Seresin.”
Jake nods, stepping away from you slowly, almost reluctantly. He holds his arm out to direct you out of the tunnel through the splintered door. He leads you past the holographic apparitions that float eerily along the walls, through the hall of warped mirrors that make your eyes hurt and your head spin, and over the various trap doors in the final stretch of your journey.
But he stops when you get to a dark, narrow split between two concrete walls. “This is the exit,” he says with a grimace. “Sorry,” he adds.
You shake your head. “I’m not going in there.”
“There’s no other way out.”
You stare at him in horror. “I’m claustrophobic.”
Jake drags a hand over his face. “That’s not good,” he says.
You feel yourself start to panic so you lash out by slapping him on the shoulder. “How could you not know that?”
Jake shrugs. “I forgot, I guess.”
Your breathing accelerates as your heart pounds painfully against your ribcage. “I hate your guts, Seresin,” you mutter. “You’re going to pay for this.”
In response, Jake gives you a very broad, very happy smile, as though you didn’t just tell him that you despise him.
“What?” you say heatedly.
Jake continues grinning. “You’re mad.”
“Yeah, I’m mad! Why are you so happy about it?”
He shakes his head. “No reason.”
You glare at him. “You should fear my wrath.”
He bites his lip, watching you affectionately. “It’s definitely the scariest part of this whole place.”
“I’m angry!” you yell, although you feel a fit of laughter start to bubble up in your chest.
Jake tries to keep a straight face. “Okay, but, could you be angry in there?” He nods at the chasm leading toward the exit, his eyes scanning the area behind you. “Because the zombies are coming.”
He ushers you into the fissure between the walls, keeping his hand on your back as you make your way forward. The only thing that makes up for this stressful conclusion to an already harrowing adventure is that his fingers seem to slip further down your back the farther you walk, trailing past the waistline of your jeans and stopping in the vicinity of your back pocket.
“See?” he says cheerily as the gap between the walls begins to narrow. “It’s not that bad.”
You try to concentrate on the light touch of his fingers as he hooks a couple of them into the back pocket of your jeans rather than the cracking walls rising up on either side of your body that seem to be closing in on you the deeper you go.
“Just so you know, there’s going to be a vibrating floor tile somewhere up ahead,” Jake says quietly, very close to your ear. “It’s coming up.”
You look over your shoulder sharply. “No,” you respond curtly, as if you could will this particular contraption away.
Jake squeezes himself in between your chest and the wall, his fingers regrettably slipping out of your pocket. The space is so tight that, no matter how much you press you backs into the walls, your bodies are still touching. “You can do this,” he says. “I’m right here.”
You frown at him, annoyed and love-sick all at once. Why did he insist on you coming? Why did he bring you along knowing he’d have to babysit you the entire time? Unless he doesn’t mind being with you. Perhaps it’s what he was hoping for.
Jake’s eyes skim worriedly over your face. “Are you okay?” he asks.
You draw in a wavering breath, content to let him fret for another several seconds over your wellbeing. Finally, you respond, “If we survive this hellhole, I’m going to murder you.”
Jake chuckles, placing his hands on your shoulders. “If we survive this hellhole, I’m getting you two funnel cakes.”
You let out a resolute sigh and nod. “Make it three. I want one of each flavor.”
Jake grins. “You got it.”
You bring your hands up to push at his chest, squirming in the compact space against his shirt. “How are you still wet?” you say irritably. “We’ve been in here for hours.”
Jake makes a face. “It’s been like six minutes, actually.”
You groan. “And this is why I don’t do haunted houses.”
Finally – finally ­– you step out into the cool, breezy sunshine with Jake on your heels. Bradley waves at the two of you from across the walkway, coming over to greet you.
“Took you a while,” Bradley remarks.
You grimace at him. “It’s only been like six minutes,” you retort sourly.
Jake looks like he might be trying to suppress a laugh.
“As if you took off again,” you reprimand your brother.
Bradley shrugs. “The trick is to race through these things and not stop to smell the rotting flesh.”
You shudder. “I need to sit down; my legs feel like jelly.”
“Log ride?” Bradley says to Jake. “While this one recuperates?” He nods toward you with a grin.
Jake pinches at his still soaking shirt and then wrinkles his nose. “I think I’ll sit this one out,” he says. “Promised your sister I’d get her funnel cake.”
“Three,” you remind him.
Jake graces you with an amused smirk. “I would love to see you try to get through three whole funnel cakes.”
As Bradley takes off in the direction of the log ride, you glance at Jake apprehensively. “You could go with him,” you say, cursing yourself for even suggesting it because all you want is to spend some time alone with Jake – not inside of a nuthouse.
Jake gives you a quick smile before starting for the funnel cake stand. “Don’t want to,” he responds.
You fall into step with him, wondering why he’d rather hang around you than his best friend. As he’s ordering the funnel cakes, you decide that you’re reading too much into things and he’s probably just hoping to dry off before going on the next ride, and that his decision to skip the log ride has nothing to do with you at all.
But then, as the two of you watch the mesmerizing creation of the world’s most delicious pastry through the glass window of the kitchen, Jake says this: “Heard you broke up with what’s-his-name.”
Your grip on the tray in your hands tightens but your eyes remain on the rapidly frying dough. It was a casual question, and Jake isn’t even looking at you, but his repeated interest in your dating life continues to give you hope where there probably isn’t any. He’s just making conversation. You shrug. “He was an asshole,” you say nonchalantly.
“Told you he would be,” Jake responds with an equally casual tone.
You bite your bottom lip aggressively, tired of the ambiguity behind his words. “That’s fine,” you retort. “I’ve got options.”
That’s when Jake turns to look at you with a troubled pair of eyes.
“Your words,” you remind him. “So, I took your advice.”
He narrows his eyes. “What advice would that be?”
“I told you someone asked out,” you say, setting the first of your funnel cakes down onto your tray.
“You said yes?” he gapes at you. “To a stranger?”
You watch him pensively for a moment. “You know, I think we’re going to need another tray,” you say, deciding to keep him in suspense for another minute.
Call it payback or something.
Read Part 8
A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this installment of torturous pining. Don't forget to send in your ideas for these two in my ask box!
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1K notes · View notes
Text
TFA TEAM PRIME HUMAN REDESIGNS FINALLY
FUCK
+headcannons
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Optimus: gotta stay focused
looks too old compared to his bot form.
I find it impossible for Optimus to be more than a million years old in this canon. In the least, he's older than 1000 years and since we have mfs that are canonically over 70 million years old(fagatron iykyk) compared to that, he feels like a dude in his early-to-mid-30's being the group parent.
---
-I made him more youthful, gave him curly hair, and tailored his clothing to actually look like his bot form.
-workaholic
-on the cusp of barley being able to hold his liquor
-doesn't own a pair of pajamas until Sari gets some for him
-usually forgets to put them on, but appreciates the gesture
-stays active for like, 3 days until he can't fight off sleep with work brain anymore, and unceremoniously passes out on the couch to sleep for a full 24 hours
-ratchet sighs and puts a blanket over him as per routine
-frequently checks security feed
-elf on the shelf despiser
-early morning talks with jazz and ratchet over coffee (they all wake up at 6 am)
-half thrives on caffeine and a vigorous training protocol
-is a dog person, loves German shepherds to death
David sama, pls forgive me ily very much
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Ratchet: to old for this nonsense
doesn't match his body type in the slightest.
Ratchet is really old, he's got a sallow face and a gramp gut, how dare they square him. He's wayyy too angular and peachy looking.
-I gave him his luscious curves back, adding all the equipment id expect a field medic to have because he is a field medic, not a regular doctor. I changed his facial proportions, and also made his face gaunt, for that dead inside PTSD look.
---
-drinks his coffee black with brown sugar, literally drinks it piping hot
-is one of those old people who complains about noise
-confiscates bumblebee and Sari's toy cars, and puts them in a high up cabinet
-neither of them know how to bypass the child safety lock lmao
-casual clothes includes a lot- a l o t of plaid shirts, and 10 pairs of the same blue jeans
-tunes out bulkhead and prowls convos about birdwatching
-big fan of political satire dramas
-Sentinel doesn't approve
-Ratchet doesn't give a rats ass about what he thinks of course
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Bumblebee: professional smart-ass
doesn't match his body type/age.
Bumblebees holoform is presented as a 10-12 year old child specifically for the fact that he's short, and the comedic relief. Total ass
I set his human age as 19-20 years old, making him more of a big brother to sari because that og model is disappointingly lackluster
---
-Bumblebee is a scrappy wisecracking punk, like an adhd kid who just got roller skates for Christmas.
-since he doesn't have wheels, I feel like he'd wear skates instead to emulate the feeling
-terrible at watching where he's going cuz he's too busy trying to show off, so ratchet makes him wear all that padding + training wheels
-legit despises the padding and training wheels
-Jealous of Blurr for mastering roller blades lmao.
-his favorite games are choose your fighter and fps
-saw ONE ancient ass assassins creed playthrough and begged ratchet to install hidden tasers in his arm bands (was denied)
-Sari used her key to do it instead
-self appointed "rizzler"
-Optimus has zero idea of what that means and thinks it's code for something dubious
-Ratchet knows what it means and thinks it's silly
-"I' was something of a rizzler myself back in my day, kid"
-bumblebee cringes
-loves summer and swimming
-wants to be the fastest thing in the sea because y'know, it's bumblebee
-is spooked from the beach for awhile cuz he saw sharks in Prowls nature documentary
-there are infact, no sharks in lake Erie
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Bulkhead: big guy, bigger heart
doesn't match his body type/aspirations.
Jesus fuck he's so wide?? And his belly migrated to his shoulders?? I'm gonna be honest, I really hate this design. I feel like it contributed to the "brute strength = stupid" take that most in the fandom associates with him.
---
-Bulkhead is a SWEET. CARING. NERD YOU FOOLS. He's like the male version of a tall goth gf-
-a tall-nerdy-farm hand-physics bf, You got me fucked up.
-Its already shown that bulkhead really likes art in Addition to creating it. He hates being only seen as the "muscle" so it wouldn't make sense for him to lean into that.
-bunny slippers that him and sari made together(she provided the buttons)
-the slippers go missing sometimes (basically considered community property unless he's wearing them)
(ratchet and prowl are the main offenders)
-frequent art museum goer
-really likes watching cooking shows, but is too shy to make food himself
-Owns a ton of star maps
-Really wants a treehouse that he, bumblebee and sari can hang out in
-pillowfort enjoyer
-casually reads quantum physics at the beach
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Prowl: draft dodger
Doesn't look like him at all.
Prowls holoform being a mustachioed,white, police officer was an actual jumpscare for 7 y/o me, I kid you not
---
- I know this bitch would not wear a helmet (you can't force him to) que windswept hair
-Not as much as starscreams, for obvious reasons but yk
-prowl is like one of those "shoes are a prison for your feet"
-emo hipster
-has a pet cactus named "planty"
-bumblebee heckles him for it
-can and has brought his cactus with him on early evening motorcycle rides
-the helmet is reserved for his cactus, bring your own >:(
-salad consumer
-him and jazz share custody of the cactus
-repeat victim of the cat distribution system
-ratchet has probably spent hours telling him they can't keep any animals at base
-frequent midnight picnics with jazz
-and beachcombing
-and roaming around antique stores cuz jazz wants to know what vinyl records are
-got a mug with an attempted pink chibi cat with big round shiny eyes painted onto it, courtesy of bulkhead trying to find an artsyle
-cherishes this mug to death
-has a shrine dedicated to it
257 notes · View notes
theemporium · 6 months
Note
What about some 🧸 for Quinn Hughes ? Just some shenanigans or softness?
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
.
"Quinn.”
“Baby.”
You shot your husband a look, your hands on your hips as you took in the sight in front of you. If he had one weakness, it would be the little bundle of joy, happiness and chaos that looked a lot like a miniature version of himself. Xander Hughes was his biggest weakness and the whole world knew the boy had his father wrapped around his little finger, Quinn included. 
But he couldn’t help himself when it came to his son. 
However, just like the other Hughes brothers, Xander seemed to have a knack for not listening to the rules and putting himself in adrenaline-inducing situations that wound up with him getting hurt. 
This time it had been the roller skates he wore without any padding or protection despite your constant insistence. However, the young four year old was convinced he was a big boy who didn’t need any protection. 
It ended with a lot of scratches, cuts and a very bruised ego.
Yet, despite hurting himself after not listening to the very explicit rules you had given him, Quinn couldn’t help but feel like his heart was going to explode out of his chest whenever he saw the pouty look on his son’s face. His resolve broke on day two and he wanted to do anything to help the little boy perk up again.
One trip to the local store later, and Quinn had set up a massive fort in the living room, complete with more blankets and pillows and snacks than you remembered their being in the house when you left earlier that morning for work. 
“He needs to learn the consequences of his actions,” you said, and you hated it. You hated playing bad cop. But Xander needed to learn, even if it pained you to see the pout on his lips as well. 
“And he learnt that lesson yesterday,” Quinn said as he reached for you, his arms winding around your waist as he pulled you close. “But he is also a kid who just needs his parents when he feels sad.”
“Now you’re making me feel like a dick,” you grumbled under your breath, but Quinn just smiled. 
“Go get changed and join us,” Quinn said with an earnest smile. 
“Yeah, Mama! Come join us!” You could hear your son’s excited voice from somewhere in the mass of blankets and pillows.
“You boys are menaces,” you commented with a sigh.
“But you love us both,” Quinn grinned.
“Yeah, I do,” you murmured before leaning up to press a quick but loving kiss on his lips. 
“EW!” 
Quinn laughed as he pulled away, shaking his head as he turned around to see Xander sticking his head out from the fort. “You alright there, buddy?”
“That was disgusting, Daddy,” Xander stated so bluntly, neither of you could help yourselves as you snorted with laughter. 
“Sorry, bud, let’s get back to the movie whilst Mama gets changed into her jammies, yeah?” Quinn said as he reached down, pulling his son from the fort and quickly lifting him into his arms as the boy squealed.
“Daddy, let me down! I’m a big boy!” Xander screamed happily.
“You’re always gonna be my little guy, buddy,” Quinn murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of his son’s head before he glanced back at you, flashing you a wink. “Hurry up before we eat all the snacks.”
Your eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t.”
Xander grinned, and it looked so much like his father’s that it made your heart swoon. “Yeah, we will!”
.
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gh0stsp1d3r · 2 months
Text
ℳ𝒶𝓎𝒷𝒶𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇
Series masterlist
Part 5- P4L
Warnings: small drug use, mentions of guns, this one’s an emotional roller coaster. Some soft!rafe
Summary: John B is back on the island, rafe teams up with Barry to go find the pogues, but what happens when the pogues find out you’re with them? What happened to P4L? What happened to you?
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“Stay here.”
“Rafe, I’m not going to-“
“Stay here.” He repeated, firmly this time. You groaned, throwing your hands up in defeat and watching as he entered the trailer.
“Shit, you early.” Barry spoke, glancing up at the boy. He looked out when Rafe opened the door, seeing your figure waiting for him.
“You got my shit?”
“Yes, I’ve got your shit. Why’s she outside?” Barry said, putting the book he had on his lap aside. “You got my money?”
“None of your business. Yes I got your money.” Rafe went to sit next to him, lining the powder up.
“Also, I need a piece.”
Barry laughed at that. “Ohhh, shit! Country club killer now, huh? He need a piece, right?”
“Don’t!” He slammed the table. Looking up at Barry now, “Don’t mess with me. Not right now, alright?”
“What do you need a piece for?” Barry asked, leaning back onto the couch now.
“John B is back.”
“John B is dead, bro.”
“I saw him for myself in the Bahamas, all right? Then Kelce just told me he saw him scoring beer in town. So yeah, he’s back.”
Barry kicked the table, shattering some glass and breaking the legs.
“You realize it’s him… it’s him or me in this situation, right?”
“I understand, Rafe. You don’t need to tell me this shit, bro.” He stood up. “What you understand is you’re gonna need a hell of a lot more than just a piece, okay?”
You listened to them from outside, your ear pressed against the thin walls.
“What do you suggest then?”
“What you need is to go at this shit like a freaking soldier, bro.” He opened up a bag, pulling out a pistol. “Done with these kids.”
Rafe stood up now.” Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.” He sniffed, walking towards Barry.
“That’s what we need right here.”
He handed him the gun, Rafe caught it in Barry’s hands, the both of them touching it.
“We do this, you know I’ll take care of you. All right?”
What did you just get into? You thought to yourself, backing away from the door when you heard them stepping over to it. You just stood there, acting like you didn’t hear.
“C’mon. We got shit to do.” Rafe mumbled, motioning for you to come in.
—————
The pogues were outside the chateau, chugging and shotgunning cheap beer. Just having fun, living their lives.
And the three of you were on the road.
“I need to know who’s over here at John B’s spot.”
“I don’t know if he’s there. I just know he’s on the island.”
“That is a complete lack of discipline, homie-“
“Then what’s your suggestion? We’re about two minutes from the place-“
“What about you? What do you think? You know them best.” Barry asked, his eyes going to the mirror and looking at you in the back. You were caught off guard.
“No, I don’t want her involved in this shit.” Rafe quickly argued.
“You already got her involved, man. That’s on you,” Barry spoke, looking back at you for a moment, and throwing the backpack at you.
It was silent for a moment before you spoke up.
“Uhm… there’s probably gonna be Jj, Pope, Kiara, John B… and…” you hesitated.
“Sarah.” Rafe said, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I think we should just-“
“Why don’t you just follow my lead, just shut up for once? All right?”
“Recon, okay.”
They slowly drove up to the Chateau.
“This isn’t gonna like… kill them or anything?” You asked, eyeing the gun in your hands.
“tranquilo.”
“Tranquilo?” Rafe spoke quietly, leaning closer.
“Tranquilo, baby. Let’s be smart. Use our heads.”
“All right, let’s go.”
You hesitantly stepped out the car, following the two closely.
Your heart was beating out of your chest as you stepped up, hiding behind a bush. You just prayed your brother wasn’t here.
“Alright, I don’t see shit.”
“I’m gonna go inside. Flush them out if they’re in there. I want you to flank left, you go with him, meet me out there by the porch.”
Rafe looked back at you, Barry left to go inside. Rafe stayed back a moment.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine.” You lied. He could tell different though, your hands trembling.
He put his hand on top of yours, mumbling a “calm down.” Before getting up.
You stood up, looking around.
“Where the hell are you?” Rafe mumbled to himself.
“Is that y/n?” John B mouthed to Jj. His eyes landed on you, slowly walking. His eyes widened, and he nodded.
What were you doing with them?
You suddenly felt the eyes burning onto the back of your head. You looked up into the trees, still standing behind Rafe. They all looked at you, confused, and in shock.
Your eyes directly met your brothers, they were pleading.
They all hid back behind the branches, thinking you would say something when you turned back to Rafe.
But you didn’t. You kept your mouth shut, just glancing at those eyes once in a while.
—————
“Yo!” Rafe said when Barry left. “Anything?”
“No, ain’t shit in there, bro.”
“No? Nothing?”
“No, nothing, Rafe.”
“They were obviously just here based off the smoke.” He pointed to the wood.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, great observation, boy scout.”
“They probably left. It’s not the smartest to be at a fugitives house that’s actively under surveillance for a long time, If you are said fugitive.” You spoke up.
“Then they’re not far, you know?”
“Smokey the bear! Look at you, bro!”
“They gotta be around here somewhere.” Rafe said, he saw the tree.
“P4L.” Barry laughed.
Rafe pointed at it. “Well, shit.”
“So your sisters a pogue for life, huh, Rafe? Now who would’ve thought?”
You were at one point.
Rafe stared at it, nodding his head to himself before shouting.
“Alright, chill-“ Barry spoke.
Rafe started to shoot the gun. You moved his arm, almost shooting the tree, where Jj was hiding.
“Hey! Whoa! Hey, chill, bro, Rafe.” Barry said, also trying to stop the shots.
You grabbed onto his bicep, he stared into your eyes.
“Let’s bounce. Let’s bounce. Let’s go!” Barry said when the two of you stood there for a moment, you trying to calm him down.
You both walked towards the car, you taking one last glance towards the tree and the kids on it.
Jjs mouth was open as he stared at you leave. They stayed there until they heard the car.
“Is your sister a fucking kook?” John B said.
“I don’t know! She wasn’t before but- if she was, she would have ratted us out. She didn’t.”
“Is she with Rafe?” Sarah asked.
“I… I don’t know. She told me about a boyfriend once, but I never thought it would be…”
————
“Guys, don’t tie up. Stop it!” Jj spoke, walking down to the boat.
“We’re dipping.”
“Wait, why?”
“What? What are you talking about?” Kiara spoke, Pope pausing his movements.
John B helped Sarah down, and they heard more steps coming down. They looked to see you, walking down to the boat.
“Shit, let’s go. Like right now.” Jj ushered them in, looking at you.
You held your hands up in defense.
“Wait!” You told them, groaning when they didn’t listen and continued piling into the boat quickly.
You ran down now.
“Stay there.” Jj said, holding an arm out when you stood on the dock.
“Okay. Okay.” You mumbled, they all stared at you.
“Who did you come with?” John B asked you.
“I came alone.”
“How do we know you’re not lying.”
“I just wanted to apologize.”
“You’re fucking a kook, the king of them.” Jj spoke, his words laced with venom.
“I’m sorry-“
“What happened to pogues for life?” He spat.
“Jj, I don’t care about any of that bullshit anymore.”
He scoffed at your response, starting the engine.
You tried to shout over it multiple times but each time he just kept saying he couldn’t hear you.
“Jj, just fucking listen to me!” You shouted, tears cascading down your face now.
“Sorry, sis, I’ll talk later!” He shouted back, and driving off. You threw your arms up in defeat, sitting at the edge of the dock, watching them leave as you sobbed.
You had fucked up. You realized.
And who was the one to pick up the pieces?
Rafe slowly walked down to the dock, you didn’t notice him until he wrapped his arms around you, sitting down next to you.
“The fuck are you doing out here?” He mumbled quietly.
“Crying.” You said with a small laugh, sniffling and wiping away the tears, leaning your head onto his shoulder.
The boat was silent for a little, Jj staring out into the ocean, lost in thought as the others talked amongst themselves.
—-
Taglist :
@cassie0sstuff @rafesgiirl @fals3-g0d @tiaamberxx @callsignwidow
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cumikering · 5 months
Text
Masterlist
Oi, it’s Cin. My heart is mostly filled with Brian Bloom and boba.
☁️ fluff | ♠️ angst | 🩷 smut | 🌈 doodle
Alex Keller
Cherry Lollipop
Your date was interrupted ☁️ Alex is a morning person 🩷 How you met Alex ☁️ You could get used to this ☁️🩷🌈
Comforting his plus-sized partner ☁️
Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish
Possessive best friend Soap:
Soap crashed your date ♠️ How you and Soap met ☁️🌈 Dating Soap ☁️🌈 Soap couldn’t handle his emotions ♠️ Soap didn’t know he could cry ♠️☁️🌈
A Year after MW3 ♠️
Line art
Line art CK
John Price
Ex bf Price was back in Liverpool ♠️ Your closure ♠️☁️🩷🌈
Keegan P. Russ
You matched with Keegan on Tinder ☁️(second chance)
Fake dating neighbour Keegan on Christmas ☁️
Werewolf Keegan:
The stiffest neck known to man ☁️ The dogsitter ☁️🌈 The fighter ☁️🌈 The industrial-sized lint roller ☁️🌈 The glorified yoga mat ☁️🌈 The terrible secret ♠️ The common denominator ♠️ The scar we share ♠️ The two wolves (and a half) ☁️🌈
Line art
Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick
Gaz comforts you after your breakup ☁️ (confession)
Stuck in a lift with uni student Gaz ☁️
In a 90s college band with Gaz ☁️
Line art
König
Meeting ex bf König after three years ♠️
Nick Reyes
How Infinite Warfare should have ended ♠️☁️🌈
Phillip Graves
He wanted one thing, but told you another ♠️
Line art
Rodolfo ‘Rudy’ Parra
Meeting your BFF’s older brother ☁️🌈
Simon 'Ghost' Riley
Neighbour Simon:
English Breakfast ☁️ Oolong ☁️ Earl Grey ☁️ Jasmine ☁️ Ceylon ♠️ Pu Erh ♠️ Darjeeling ♠️ Camomile ☁️ Line art
The 141 bet against Ghost ☁️
Memes
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fangirltothefullest · 4 months
Note
Okay but now what if how you designed Remus but in as many words as you want, because I'm loving these design breakdowns
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HELL YEAH!
Remus to me is full of chaos but he is also the antithesis of Roman with similar qualities but a total lack of self consciousness or bashfulness. He is freedom and he gives no shits.
Inspiration 1: Mad Madam Mim
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I start with a disney character full of chaos and I am inspired by mad Madam Mim because she is wild and chaotic and i absolutely love how fun she is as a villain and the most important thing for me is that Remus is fun. He's bonkers and has terrible ideas but he's also harmless in terms of reality. He's like an annoying little brother that wants to show you the Weird Gunk he found in the trash.
Inspiration 2: Snidley Whiplash (or Dick Dastardly)
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Remus to me is a guy who knows a lot of things and he's actually really clever but he wants to BE a villain like Snidley Whiplash or Dick Dastardly, including the moustache. He wants to tie people to train tracks because it's fun. His personality is "I found the dynamite and the roller skates! :D"
Inspiration 3: Wile E Coyote and looney tunes as a concept
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If Remus is anything it's a creature that can be stabbed in the eye and come back fine. It's a person who can make acme-like contraptions that do not work and that's ok. He is, if nothing else, Wile E Coyote and he is having the time of his life. He should therefore have hair that is a littler wild and crazy and untamable like Wile E's tail.
Inspiration 3: Royal villains
We will look at Galavant and also OUaT again!
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There's nothing quite as detailed in costume as evil royal villains. They always seem to be the most extravagant or at least have all the buckles and things and Remus has an outfit just the same. Like Roman I want his royalty to show with his clothes but unlike Roman I want Remus to look way less put together. More a culmination of his clothes he chooses to wear but only because he HAS to wear something so he's going to show skin.
Particularly though the one I associate with Remus is Captain Hook from Once Upon a Time.
Inspiration 4: Captain Hook / Pirate aesthetics
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Roguish, half-opened shirt, details, dressed fancy, swashbuckling. Remus would make a great pirate because he has the swagger and charm of a drunken man sailing a boat with a pet giant octopus he calls Lil Pussy.
Speaking of octopus...
Inspiration 5: Kraken and hentai
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He has an octopus on his belt and he deserves tentacles for a pirate feel but also for fuckin. Cause he's a raunchy bastard. Anything taboo is something he wants to think about.
Inspiration 6: Punk aesthetic
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What easier way top buck against the norms than to embrace punk vibes? Jewelry, upside-down crosses, I don't like going overboard with it but I like giving him some. Fingerless gloves, chokers with spikes, those kinds of things work well for his "I am everything your religious grandmother hates, embrace it". His outfits that aren't standard could look like he made them himself or found them in the garbage and went "awesome!"
Inspiration 7: Weapon Master
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Remus likes to hit things with his mace and while Roman has his sword, I imagine Remus is an expert at weapons or at least likes to use them so even if I am going to dress him up nice I want a weapon nearby somewhere.
Things that are a must:
So many details, Remus will not leave your eyeballs alone. If you think Roman has details nope, Remus wants your eyes to bleed with them.
Remus should have longer hair than Roman, wilder bangs and wilder curls. Shorter hair is fine but a ponytail is even more fun. Like the tie holding it'll break at any moment.
Weapons galore, arm this baby at every opportunity. Likewise, scars are acceptable but it's ok if they disappear at random because chaos loves chaos.
If Remus has his main garb off he should be showing skin to the best of his abilities and his collar should drape down wider than normal because let that man be a slut.
Tentacles should be numerous when shown and they should have a mind of their own doing whatever they want.
If Roman wouldn't wear it, Remus would. If Roman wouldn't think it, Remus would, and if Roman would be disgusted, Remus would love it.
Remus should have annoying little brother vibes.
Any non-standard outfits should look like he cobbled them together with duct tape and chewing gum.
So I came to this:
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