#but since i love this absolutely diva so much...

[tokiidokiicasket]

I bring thee, more date everything x artist reader thoughts for the soullll.

//Suggestive cut. Same like uhhh last artist reader post where it's nothing bad- but it does mention drawing/painting on skin that isn't just arms and limbs. Do with that what you will.

Being an artist, you can no doubt believe that it doesn't mean you have to be clean. In fact, there are definite points where you most likely had your hands covered in either charcoal or colors.

Nevertheless, you didn't mind too much actually! In fact, there were definite points where you either drew with markers or painted various designs upon your skin.

The only problem is cleaning up the surfaces. Such paint, especially really expensive ones, tend to be hassle to scrub off smudges. Annnnd with the dateviators in mind, you have to be more careful now. I'm sure some dateables wouldn't like stains and all.

Especially keeping in mind different alternatives of disposing the colored water from mixing paints {Like filtering water, evaporation method, etc-}. Not just for keeping in mind the environment but also for Sinclaire's sake, since I'm sure he would NOT be fond of consuming paint water.

But coming back to the part of drawing or painting on your skin, I'm sure some dateables are veryyyy curious about it. In fact, the idea of painting each other's skin as a way of bonding with you? The possibilities are endless!

I like to think Artt would be fond of you drawing/painting his skin because, well, he's art. But also I like believe that he'd be gentle with his brush strokes upon painting you like you're the canvas, you know? And he's ever sooo focused, not once leaving his gaze to make sure the design is perfect and precise!

Oooooh, and I'm sure Volt would be fond over that kind of thing too, perhaps treating whatever design you give him like a temporary tattoo or sorts. Same with Eddie, though I suppose he'd rather have a small doodle like a lightning bolt or heart to indulge your silly {but adorable} ideas. Volt would be most cheeky about drawing/painting on your skin, where if we're going for the more intimate route, he'd probably choose spots like the collar of your neck or just generally the more exposed spots that make it apparent that it was his doing. With Eddie, he'd only indulge with small doodles but he's a little more subtle with choosing what parts to doodle upon your skin.

OH! You know one of those bath tub crayons that mostly kids use? I like to think Bathsheba would be hesitant at first BUT when you manage to convince her, she's absolutely gigglingggg about it once you draw along to your heart's content, giving her the cutest designs she'd love. I'm sure most of the bathroom dateables would roll their eyes when the diva brags about it.

Speaking of giggles, I'm sure Parker, Penelope, or anyyyy dateable you may believe is ticklish, would have a hard time sitting still or keeping a straight face because they're giggling and laughing away when you're moving the pen/brush to draw upon their skin.

With that in mind, some dateables would definitely come to you and ask about drawing/painting on your skin, whether for intimate activities or just for fun. They want to be included into whatever you want, you know?

//Small author's note : I JUST REALIZED MY ANON ASK OPTION WAS CLOSED????? I legit forgot the reason why I closed it- but if there's any rot you want to share, anon option is now open so yeah 😭

[stasiksssss]

small rebecha thingy as i have nothing else to post lol

[queertealover]

Silly fish man

[dami-anne-damn]

CookieSized!Beast Cookies x HumanSized!Reader

Cuddling Head-cannons!

Shadow Milk Cookie:

He’s super into cuddling, but only when he wants too. Like, man is clingy in the same way a cat is.

He would totally want to crawl up the inside of your sleeve like a gremlin and curl up on your chest.

Speaking of chest, that’s his favorite place to snuggle up too, either that or your face. Specifically your cheek since he’s tiny. (He likes to be a presence you can’t ignore.)

If you love cuddles prepare to be absolutely smothered in them. He wants to be all you can focus on in this world, and allowing him to cling to you is an opportunity he just can’t pass up.

If you don’t like cuddles then you are fresh outta luck because he does not care. It doesn’t matter to him how large you are, or how intimidating you can be. He’s snuggled up to you and he’s comfortable. Plus… since when were you in charge?

Like, if you’re resting he’s all up in your business, IMMEDIATELY. If you try to push him away enough times, he’ll walk off in a fake huff talking about ‘diva(s)’. But once you finally fall asleep he’s right back where he wants to be.

Ironically enough if you try to cuddle up to him without his prompting, he’ll play hard to get. Might even bat your hand away too- (well, as much as a itty-bitty cookie his size can to a human).

When he’s cuddled up on your chest, sometimes he’ll worm his way up to your ear. He’ll begin to whisper things, things he couldn’t possibly know. Tidbits about your day you never told him, stuff that has yet to happen, knowledge on how to help you succeed in future endeavors. You are normally asleep by the time this advice comes, so why does he do this?

Is it the joy he feels knowing that he has all the answers you need and all the control to tell you only when you’re not listening? Or is it something else? Only he has the answer to that.

——————————————————

Mystic Flour Cookie:

She’s definitely not clingy, but she doesn’t mind it when you two cuddle.

I imagine since she’s the Beast of Apathy she is quite neutral about where she lays in accordance to you in bed. You could have her in your arms, your hands, heck probably even on the top of your head and she’d be ok with it.

She won’t admit this, but her favorite way to cuddle is with your head in her lap and her hand in your hair. Yes, you are still human sized. Also yes, she is still cookie sized. (You guys make it work though.)

Love cuddles or hate cuddles, she couldn’t care either way. Calm and composed, she decides when and when not to allow you to breach her personal space.

Although, if you do catch her off guard with a pick up and cuddle attack from behind. Even if she may not show it immediately, she doesn’t like when people just take what they want from her. Expect the cold shoulder.

On rare occasions, Mystic Flour can and will ask to be held. There’s something unusual about her tone, something more..alive.

When you have long since fallen asleep, she finds her hand stroking your hair absentmindedly. She then slowly lowers her body to lay against your head, all of HER own volition. For cuddling you was her choice, not your will. Hers.

——————————————————

Burning Spice Cookie:

Normally, I would never think that Burning Spice would go for cuddles. Too boring and stagnant for his tastes.

But if you did manage to get him to cuddle, you bet you had to earn that. And it wasn’t easy. So if you like fighting tooth and nail for the right to cuddle, then Burning Spice is your man!

Battle against him, he doesn’t care how large and fleshy you are. He wants a fight, he needs a fight. If you want to cuddle The Great Destroyer, then show him you can handle it! (This is an every night before bed thing too).

Finally you win—(because let’s be honest..he’s like what, 3 inches tall?) —and now you’ve earned the right to cuddle. Burning Spice’s favorite place to cuddle is right against your stomach or heart, things he can hear.

Sometimes during these sessions, you can catch a glimpse of Burning Spice’s face, it looks empty as he listens to your body work and breathe. You wonder whats going though his head.

But as soon as it’s there, it’s gone and is replaced with his usual scowl as he loudly exclaims how ‘bored’ he is with the current situation.

As I’ve already explained, if you want cuddles Burning Spice is definitely going to play hard to get. Much like Shadow Milk in that sense. But on another note, much like Mystic Flour he doesn’t care if he gets cuddles or not. (If anything he seems to project more no than yes. But if that’s really true, why does he still offer to fight you each night?)

——————————————————

Eternal Sugar Cookie:

Are you a couch potato with big emotions?! Do you like to cuddle?! Then maybe you should consider getting yourself an Eternal Sugar Cookie to keep you company!

They are a MASSIVE cuddle monster, (they might even be clinger than Shadow Milk in this sense) you’re like a big warm pillow! They are perched or nestled somewhere on you from 24/7 to eternity.

Their favorite place to cuddle is curled up on your neck. Wings draped over the sides of your shoulders in a sort of possessive hug. Feeling your pulse.

If you like cuddles Eternal Sugar is definitely a provider, and is pretty good at making you feel right at ease. I could imagine them curled up, tangled in your hair and lazily strumming at their lyre with droopy eyes.

Being the Beast of Sloth, I could see them using their power to perhaps make you feel a bit more lethargic than usual.

After a while with Eternal Sugar you might start missing your morning alarm, sleeping in, missing breakfast, lunch, maybe even dinner too…a couple days go by…wait, how long have you been sleeping for again?

——————————————————

Silent Salt Cookie:

Tbh, I see this cookie as very hit or miss when it comes to cuddle time. Either they’re all in on some nice quiet quality time or they want absolutely nothing to do with it.

If they are into it I could see them liking sleeping tangled up in your legs (keeps you from moving too much) or I could see them resting in your hands, especially if you sleep with them curled up to your face.

Don’t expect any kind of talk though, if you start yapping while you two are snuggled up close they’ll just end up getting up and walking away. It’s silence or nothing. (And if you talk in your sleep, just forget about it.)

If they are not in the mood for cuddles, don’t try and convince them. Begging and pleading will only serve to annoy this beast. You gotta let them come to you, like a stray cat you gotta earn the trust of before they come inside your home.

On the days you guys cuddle, if you stay really quiet and still, you can feel Silent Salt press into you almost longingly. Is it despair? Is it loneliness? Want, need? It’s impossible to tell which emotion the beast is feeling with that helmet on. All you can guess is that they are comfortable in the palms of your hands. That’s all that matters…right?

——————————————————

Fin and thank you for reading!

[darkmatilda]

𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: in which one spencer’s curiosity leads to the exposure of your shared secret

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x diva!chemist reader, reference to spencer and reader getting married in vegas, the secret marriage not so secret anymore, penelope and reid being my favorite sibling duo, reader is trying to murder reid and im saying that with the straightest face imaginable, MASSIVE diva reader lore drop, oh and lowkey angsty ending

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3.3k

𝐚/𝐧: request

“I’ve got him! I think I’ve got him…” Penelope spun halfway around in her chair, landing at her second monitor and typing rapidly, her fingers flying across the keyboard with focus. Spencer was standing right next to her, one hand resting on the desk, leaning over so he could see the results of her search. If their reasoning was correct, they had just managed to identify the unsub. But it was still too early to celebrate. “It has to be him! Thomas Murphy, 47 years old. Between 1994 and 2005 he worked as a plumber in Seattle before moving in with his now ex-wife… I’m sending you his address.”

“Thanks, Garcia,” Hotch replied.

Then the call ended — and that was it from their end. From Garcia’s office, there was nothing else they could do except stay by the phone in case they were needed again. Spencer finally straightened up and then, a bit aimlessly, dropped into the smaller chair beside his friend. Penelope was taking a deep breath and sliding her glasses off her nose to polish them with a yellow cloth patterned with flowers. He stretched out his legs and laced his fingers together over his stomach, trying to push away a certain stupid thought that had just appeared in his head.

“So…” Reid began, trying to convince himself it wasn’t too late to bite his stupid tongue. “We don’t have anything left to do. And I was thinking…”

“That you finally want me to teach you how to play video games?” Penelope offered smoothly, slipping her glasses back on.

Thrown off, Spencer furrowed his brows and wrinkled his nose. “What? N-no, that’s totally not what I meant, I was thinking more like…okay, never mind. It’s stupid.”

For the first time, his friend turned fully to face him, squinting at him suspiciously.

“I forbid you to back out now. I’m far too intrigued. So?”

He held his breath for a moment before exhaling heavily. He could’ve just said nothing. But since he already had… and since he couldn’t shake the idea from his head…

“You know, I’ve been thinking lately about how much information about specific people you’re able to find in such an impressively short amount of time…”

“Oh my goodness, you want me to stalk someone for you!”

Despite the flush on his cheeks, the look on his face was absolutely, deeply, immensely offended.

“Using the word stalking in this context is a serious misuse,” he objected, raising both hands as if shielding himself from the mere suggestion. “And you should know that, working here. Stalking refers to persistent harassment, systematic pursuit and intimidation of a person that causes them fear, anxiety, and a sense of danger — it is definitely not the same as retrieving publicly accessible information from the internet…”

Penelope rolled her eyes dramatically.

“That’s just what people say. But the answer is yes, my love, I’ll happily stalk someone for you.”

Spencer felt like he couldn’t open his mouth and actually ask her to do it out loud. Deep down, he still thought it was stupid. But maybe he gave himself away — that flicker of gratitude in his eyes in response to her readiness. Penelope clapped her hands excitedly, spinning toward the screen.

“Who’s the lucky one? Kidding, you don’t even have to tell me. I know who it is.”

He scoffed at her confidence — how could she possibly know?

 “I bet you’re wrong…” His expression fell the moment Garcia pulled up the exact name he’d intended to give her in the first place. He pressed his lips into a tight line. “Okay, yes, that’s who I meant, but it’s not what you think!”

 “Sweetie, there’s no need to explain anything to me. I get it completely, even if you don’t get it yet.”

 He opened his mouth to disagree, only to find himself stalled by his own words. Especially that second part. He stayed quiet for a long moment, turning them over in his mind. What brought him back was her next question.

 “Tell me what you want to know.”

 He shrugged, genuinely unsure.

“I don’t know. I mean, it’s not like I want any sensitive, private information or anything I couldn’t ask about myself…”

 “Mhmm, just like I thought. Ex-lovers.”

 He quickly started shaking his head.

 “No… I mean… not exactly…you’re the one who suggested—”

 “Wait, did you know she used to be a model?”

Until now sitting with his back fully pressed against the chair’s backrest, Spencer jumped up so fast he nearly smashed his nose on the computer screen. Penelope didn’t even tease him, which indicated she was just as surprised. In the heavy silence, barely blinking, they watched an ad for a lip makeup line from about ten years ago. A brand small enough that they didn’t use real celebrities, but big enough that it was…impressive.

But Spencer wasn’t silent because he was impressed. He was silent, head slightly tilted to the side and lips parted just a little, because he had just realized he had never seen—or even wondered about—how she used to look. Younger, with a different hairstyle and even a different gaze, less experienced and less relentless, but still carrying plenty of confidence. Just not as much as now.

For the record, he also had to admit she was very attractive. But that part hadn’t changed.

Penelope mouthed wow—just the movement of her lips. Or maybe she had said it out loud, but he was slightly dazed, meaning focused on something else, and only registered the movement, not the sound. Either way, she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, catching herself.

“Right. You asked about her ex-lovers.”

Spencer was immediately snapped out of his daze—meaning focus.

“I didn’t!” he protested, which, technically, was true. She had been the one to bring it up; he’d just failed to shut it down. But he didn’t want the responsibility for it sticking to him. Garcia had already gotten back to the keyboard when he went on. “I didn’t ask about her ex-lovers, that’s just your projection. Honestly, the last thing I’m interested in is her—”

“Oh, she was engaged once,” she cut in.

Reid froze.

“What happened to her fiancé?” slipped out of him before he could stop it.

Penelope gave him a sideways look, mockingly.

“Right. The last thing you’re interested in.”

“Oh, come on. You were so happy to help me stalk her, so now at least do it right and tell me what happened to her fiancé.”

 “Ouch, no need to bite. I’m trying to find out! Believe it or not, she’s my friend too and I’m also curious.” She opened some page in the browser. Suddenly, she paused, one finger hovering over the mouse. She turned slowly to Spencer. “We are disgustingly nosy, aren’t we?”

 “We…” Spencer hesitated, feeling like Garcia kind of had a point. But his curiosity won. “Maybe a little. Who isn’t. So what about the fiancé?”

 “Look, that’s them at his sister’s wedding.” All of Penelope’s moral hesitation evaporated as she showed him a photo. “I mean, the fiancé. And here they are together.”

They both went silent for a moment, judging. Eventually, Spencer gathered himself enough to form a truly eloquent, thoughtful sentence.

 “Compared to her… he kind of looks like…a loser.”

 “He lowkey looks like you,” said Penelope at almost the same time, apparently not hearing his previous comment. He gave her a look, which she ignored. His eyes went back to the screen, to the photo of them with their arms around each other, but this time he focused on the man beside her, absolutely disagreeing with his friend’s remark.

That guy looked nothing like him. Sure, he was tall, had brown eyes and a slender frame, but other than that his hair was darker. Two completely different people. As he analyzed their similarities, Garcia kept rambling.

 “You know, I’ve been out for drinks with her a few times and judging by the kind of guys who always hit on her, I was convinced her type was more…chunky guys, you know what I mean. Oh Reid, I feel bad that I found this. She never told me she was engaged, probably didn’t want to talk about it. I wonder what happened. Did they break up or… wait, you don’t think he… oh whew, haha, he’s alive and well. Look, he has a labrador now. So they broke up… WAIT!”

Penelope leaned toward the screen, her face suddenly tense. Spencer jumped in his seat.

 “What is it?”

 “Did you know she has a husband now… wait, is that the same guy…?”

A cold sweat flooded not just the back of Reid’s neck, but also his spine, ribs, and  even heels. He became cold sweat. He shook his head quickly, desperately trying to steer Garcia away from that thought.

 “You know, you were absolutely right, we shouldn’t be digging through her past like this, I’m really not comfortable with it…”

He trailed off — it was already too late. Penelope turned to him, jaw dropped in shock, eyes full of disbelief, accusation, and a clear demand for explanation.

*

Flowers and coffee.

Flowers and her favorite coffee.

That should do the trick, right?

Okay, Spencer wasn’t deluding himself—it wouldn’t. He was just hoping, really hoping, that when she inevitably decided to murder him, she’d at least do it in a not-particularly-brutal way. But seriously, if he delivered the news gently…okay, no, she’d still be furious. There was no avoiding it.

Spencer stepped into her lab after putting it off and standing outside the door for so long that the coffee he’d brought her was nearly cold. She was busy working, so she didn’t even notice as he approached, slowed, and finally stopped just behind her. A bit of her blouse was sticking out from under her lab coat—it was almost exactly the same color as the dress she’d been wearing in that photo with her ex-fiancé. Funny, that this was what he thought of right now...

“How much longer are you planning to stand there breathing down my neck?” she hissed, not showing even the slightest sign that she’d noticed him. But she had.

Startled, he stepped back half a pace. He cleared his throat—none of the twenty versions of this conversation he’d rehearsed had started like this. Think, Reid, think...

“I brought you something,” he said, just to break the strange silence that had fallen between them. They weren’t entirely alone in the room, but none of the other chemists paid them the slightest bit of attention.

The woman paused at his words, then slowly turned around, resting both hands on the counter behind her, raising an eyebrow even before she saw what he was holding. Once she did, her brows only went slightly higher.

“What’s the occasion?”

Spencer swallowed—her eye contact made him even more nervous. He couldn’t…he couldn’t just blurt out hey, I brought you flowers so you won’t kill me for the fact that I accidentally spilled to Penelope that we got drunk married in Vegas…

He decided to start vague. Then ease into the specifics.

“What’s the occasion…Well, I realized I never thanked you for last time. When I got beaten up and you…took care of me.”

Technically, he really hadn’t thanked her, so he sounded very sincere. Because he was sincere, with the small problem that this wasn’t the whole story. And because he sounded so sincere, he felt like with every word he said…her expression softened just a little more, showing not the slightest trace of suspicion.

Internally, Spencer was panicking.

He wanted her to be suspicious! He wanted her to be skeptical! He’d rather she were in a bad mood from the start, so the change that was about to happen wouldn’t be so abrupt!

A heavy feeling was crushing his chest.

“So, that’s what it’s for. Thank you.” First, he handed her the coffee, so she could set it down on the counter behind her, and then the bouquet.

Red roses—probably had some symbolic meaning, but he hadn’t cared when buying them. He just wanted them to be her favorite color and ridiculously gorgeous. 

She accepted them with an unreadable expression. The bouquet was so large she had to tilt it to one side so it wouldn’t block his face while they talked. Her head tilted slightly as well.

“Thanks accepted,” she replied with a nod.

It wasn’t a dry response. In fact, her tone was unusually soft. But also expectant.

Expecting whatever else he was about to say.

He drew a breath.

"You look…luminous, sophisticated, truly breathtaking today," he added, eyes wide from the stress, not blinking. “Penelope knows we got married.”

Her arms dropped sharply to her sides, bouquet and all, and a petal from one of the roses floated to the floor.

“Oh, I fucking knew it!” she shouted at him, punctuating it with a stomp of her heel. For his own safety, Spencer took another step back. “I knew the moment you started complimenting me. Before that, I was still holding on to the delusion that the flowers were actually out of the goodness of your heart and gratitude…”

 “...because they are out of the goodness of my heart and gratitude—”

“Shut up. Shut up, don’t you dare interrupt me or correct me right now.” She pointed a warning finger at him. But after a moment, her hand curled into a fist, and her eyelids clenched as she took a calming breath. Without opening her eyes, she ground out through clenched teeth, “How did it happen that Penelope—whom I obviously love, but who can’t keep anything a secret—found out?”

Spencer raised both hands in a defensive gesture, his brain spinning and steaming, doing everything it could not to reveal the actual circumstances of how it all happened.

“By accident—really, I… let it slip,” he lied, hoping the desperation in his voice would mask the lack of truth, and that she was too angry to act as a lie detector. “Honestly, it was my fault, I’m fully aware, I’m an idiot, and I’m sorry—”

“And you really thought that some stupid flowers would make me not angry?”

“Well, flowers and coffee—”

He had to duck to avoid getting hit in the face with them.

“I thought maybe you’d be less angry!” he explained. “And don’t hit me with them, they didn’t do anything…!”

“That’s exactly why I’m hitting you, dumbass.”

But that was, in fact, the last display of such open aggression toward him. Sure, she was still furious, tense and ticking but Spencer, watching from what he considered a safe distance, felt slightly more secure.

For a moment, silence fell between them.

She leaned her lower back against the counter, arms tightly crossed over her chest.

“You know we have to do something about this, right?”

Spencer nodded, terrified that saying anything might reset their relationship to what it had been two minutes and forty-one seconds ago.

“I already know what,” she declared. “And you, as compensation for what you’ve done, are going to help me. Also, put those flowers in some water.”

Naturally, he did as he was told.

*

“This is weird.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have spilled, and we wouldn’t have to do this.”

“It’s still weird! I mean, we could’ve just politely asked her not to tell anyone. I’m almost certain she would’ve respected that…”

“Exactly—almost certain. And I want full certainty. So hush, I think she’s coming.”

Penelope stepped into the interrogation room where they’d arranged to meet her, glancing around uncertainly.

“Are we even allowed to be in here?”

Spencer gave her a reassuring—and at the same time apologetic—look, even though he wasn’t entirely sure they were allowed to be there either.

His companion didn’t even flinch.

“My dear Penelope, do you know why we wanted to see you here today?”

Garcia sat down on the opposite side of the table—right where they usually placed the people being interrogated. Though initially hesitant and reserved, she suddenly clasped her hands together with an impressively bold expression.

“As a matter of fact, I do know why you wanted to see me here,” she declared, her eyes darting between their faces. “Because even though on a daily basis you claim you don’t even like each other, you literally got married. And that’s not something normal people do. I mean—I love you two, and I’m rooting for you—but those are just the facts.”

Spencer was watching her profile as she listened to those words. He noticed she rolled her eyes at the I love you two, and I’m rooting for you part. But other than that, she didn’t seem particularly moved by what Penelope had said.

 Unlike him.

Reid had apparently needed to hear it from a third party to start actually wondering if, yeah, maybe it wasn’t entirely normal.

“I guess we’re not normal,” she said plainly, shrugging nonchalantly. Then suddenly she sighed and looked at the woman in front of her with something almost like tenderness. “Penelope, you know I love you, but I will murder you if you tell anyone. Just to be safe, I’ve prepared this.”

She reached into the front pocket of her lab coat and pulled out a document.

 “A nondisclosure agreement. Just a little incentive for you to keep quiet.”

Both Spencer and Penelope stared at her, completely baffled.

His confusion was layered with something else.

“You’re really embarrassed you married me, aren’t you?” slipped out of him.

She turned her head toward him—they locked eyes.

Garcia stood up nervously from her chair.

“Maybe I should give you two a moment—”

She was stopped with a quick hand gesture.

“I’m not embarrassed that I married you,” she said, looking at him sternly. She barely blinked. “I’m embarrassed by the circumstances. And the fact that we still haven’t dealt with it.”

“Well, if I recall correctly, it was a mutual decision.”

“A stupid decision. What were we even thinking?”

Spencer felt a strange, uncomfortable tension inside him, in her, and between them.

Penelope clearly felt it too, because she quickly pulled the document toward herself and signed it with an exaggerated flourish.

“There you go. And now I’m off. Nothing worse than getting stuck in the middle of a marital argument. Kisses!”

And just like that, she disappeared, leaving the two of them alone in the interrogation room.

For a moment, the silence was incredibly heavy. Spencer was used to silences like that. He’d conducted dozens, if not hundreds, of interrogations. But this was the first time the silence felt like his problem.

They stood across from each other on either side of the short table, which, given the size of the room, meant they were fairly close. He no longer stole uncertain glances at her profile—he stared openly now, with far too many questions about her sudden shift in how she was approaching the decision they had once made together.

“We should’ve gotten divorced right away,” she said coldly, turning her head but not her body toward him. “Then it wouldn’t have gotten so...too real.”

Too real. Spencer didn’t even get a chance to reflect on those words before she walked out of the room, leaving the two of them, him and the silence, behind. 

Too real. He didn’t understand those words, not even when he did think about them. Or rather, he understood their meaning, their connection, what they implied but he didn’t understand how they related to them.

And yet, as the next few minutes passed, he remembered that small stab of excitement when Garcia agreed to look her up for him and the other sharp pang when he stared at the photo of her with her ex fiancé and maybe, just maybe, he was finally starting to understand what the whole too real thing had meant.

[sceletaflores]

ghosts, ghouls, goblins, and other things that go bump in the night!

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4.5k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, drinking, resident bestie diva wade wilson, matching costumes ofc, established relationship, p in v, semi-public sex (bathroom), rough sex, mirror sex, gratuitous amounts of dirty talk, light degradation, light hair pulling, light choking, nasty dirty breeding kink (@guiltyasdave infected me with the breeding kink disease...it's all her fault), 4k words for straight up porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: happy halloween! sort of...i obvi couldn't wait to post this until the actual day cause i have absolutely zero patience so here you go! i thought up this idea in the middle of the night and literally got out of bed to start it. it's a nasty self indulgent mess...hope you love it! kisses <3

cutie divider by icon @saradika-graphics!

you and logan have some fun at wade's halloween party...

Unsurprising to no one, Wade Wilson knows how to throw a party. 

Every year since the two of you became neighbors, you’ve gotten a gaudy invitation decorated with cartoon bats and devils slipped under your door just in time for Halloween.

Of course, it’s always in some cheesy font, red and glittery. A crappy pun about “scaring up some fun with your favorite mercenary” with a return address listed as ‘Hell’s Playground’ inscribed on the front.

It's awful. You haven’t missed one yet.

And not just because you’re a sucker for free booze and cheap decorations. It’s like tradition now, you can't have your perfect attendance streak cut off four years in. That's just bad manners.

Besides, this is the first year you’ve gotten to do a couples costume.

“I look fuckin’ ridiculous,” Logan mutters, deep voice laced with irritation as he messes with the wolf ears perched awkwardly on his head. “Can’t believe I let you drag me to this thing.”

You don’t turn to face him, but you can still see the frown tugging his lips down in your mind. Logan’s never been one for costumes, but his options were either dress up or stay home while you went and had fun without him.

He was dead set on staying at home for most of the day.

One look at the frilly white bloomers that came with your costume and he changed his tune.

“Quit being such a baby,” you toss over your shoulder, pouring your second cup of whatever Wade mixed together in the mini cauldron sitting on his bar. “You look great, babe.”

He really shouldn’t complain, his costume is barely a costume. An old flannel with the sleeves ripped off and some mangy jeans.

The fake ears and tail were a struggle and a half to get him on board with, but Logan’s all bark and no bite. He was more than willing to roll over and show you his belly after enough begging.

Logan scoffs, big hand pawing at your hip to drag you to his side. “You owe me for this,” he rumbles low in your ear, the playful threat sending a shiver down your spine.

“You’ll survive,” you tease, a smug grin spreading across your face as you tug playfully on the tail clipped to his belt loop. “Unless you wanted to switch?”

Logan’s eyes drag over your body shamelessly, all the way from the floppy sheep ears sitting on your head to the lacy white corset and matching bloomers that do little to hide your curves. 

You don’t miss the way his eyes darken, how he runs his tongue along the sharp point of his canines like he wants to sink his teeth into you.

It sends a familiar heat coursing through your veins, warming your insides just as much as the vodka with a hint of mixer you’ve been sipping at.

You start to wish you shelled out for the fake fangs at the party store.

Logan tugs you closer, his lips curling into a slow, predatory smirk. “Not a chance in hell,” he rasps, voice dipping a couple octaves lower. “Looks better on you, baby.”

You hum idly as his arm snakes around your waist, fingers splayed along your lower back, inching dangerously close to the swell of your ass.

“You better behave,” you chastise, though it’s more playful than stern as you look up at him through your lashes. “We’re in public.”

Logan’s grip tightens, a soft grunt leaving him as he leans in, nosing along the side of your face. “Doesn’t seem like much of a party when all I’m thinkin’ about is how fast I can get you outta this damn costume.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks, the warm puff of his breath over your skin makes your knees feel weak. You try to keep your cool, but it’s hard when he’s practically radiating heat and that intoxicating scent of leather and pine fills your senses. 

Before you can respond, a loud call of your name grabs your attention. 

"There you are!" Wade shouts from across the room, already making his way towards you.

All six foot two and half inches of him is wrapped in blue and white lace, paired with a matching hoop skirt that bounces with every step he takes. His shepherd's staff thuds against the floor when he comes to a stop in front of you. “Fashionably late, I see.”

“We’ve been here for thirty minutes,” you point out, brow cocked as you take in his costume. “Where’ve you been?”

“I’m the hostess with the mostest, honey bunny,” he says, throwing his arm out to gesture towards all the dressed up guests crammed into his living room. “Can’t spread myself too thin.”

He eyes Logan's wolf ears and fake tail, then turns back to you, wiggling his brows suggestively. 

"Kinky,” he comments, flicking the little gold bell hanging from the choker around your neck. “You two just couldn’t resist a little predator-prey roleplay, huh? Should I be worried about you getting all ‘Animal Planet’ on my couch?”

Logan’s grip on your waist tightens, his mouth brushing your ear as he mutters, “I’m gonna kill him before midnight.”

“Now, now, big bad wolf, no need to huff and puff and blow my skirt up. We’re all here to have a howl of a time!” Wade continues, undeterred. “Plus, if you behave, I might just let you keep your sheep when the night’s over.”

You can practically feel Logan’s eye twitch, but you snicker, leaning into him just a little more. “Play nice, Wade,” you say, trying to smother your laugh. “The wolf might eat you first.”

“Please,’ Wade snorts, twirling his shepherd's staff deftly in his hand. “If that’s on the table, I’ll lay out the fucking fine china.”

Logan lets out a huff of air, dropping his hold on you and brushing past Wade with a grunt. "I'm gettin' another beer."

“Try not to stab anyone!” Wade shouts after him, loud enough to be heard over the Monster Mash blaring from the speakers. “Al might blow the whole complex if any more blood gets on the linoleum!”

Logan throws a middle finger over his shoulder as he disappears into the kitchen. 

You watch him go, a grin plastered to your face at the way the tail swings with every step he takes. Something warm and fuzzy settles in your chest, blooming in the empty space of your ribcage.

You know Logan hates this–the people, the lights, the music, the costumes.

But he’s here anyway, for you.

Here wearing the stupid wolf costume you bought for him, surrounded by drunk people in inflatable dinosaur costumes and witches with dollar-store broomsticks. And despite all the grumbling, he hasn’t bolted for the door once.

All for you. And that makes your heart thump a little harder in your chest, your smirk softening into something sweeter.

"You’ve got him whipped," Wade deadpans, crossing his arms, the lace of his sleeves rustling as he does. “It’s really disgusting.”

You snort, shaking your head softly. "More like he's got a soft spot."

Wade eyes you skeptically. "Same thing, toots."

You hum noncommittally, turning back to him. “Cute outfit,” you comment, eyeing the white bonnet secured by a neat little bow under his chin.

“You like it?” Wade does a quick twirl, the blonde curls of his wig nearly slap you across the face as he does. “The guy at party city kept giving me weird looks, but I think he was just jealous of how well I fill in the blouse.”

You rake your gaze over him slowly, taking another slow sip from your cup. “The stockings are a nice touch, but don’t you think running around as Little Bo Peep will send some confusing messages.”

“Well, duh. That’s only the whole point, Sherlock.” Wade snorts, shaking his head like it’s obvious. “I’m way too emotionally invested in this relationship to not try and wiggle my way into throuple territory.”

You can’t help but laugh, rolling your eyes. “A throuple? Hate to break it to you, Peep, but Logan doesn’t really strike me as the sharing type.”

Wade leans in conspiratorially, cupping a hand around his mouth like he’s letting you in on a secret. “That’s why I’m playing the long game. Gotta wear him down with my irresistible charm, and when he finally snaps, I’ll swoop in with a bottle of Jack and a promise of no strings attached.”

You shake your head, chuckling into your drink. “You’ve got it all figured out, don't you?”

“Oh, honey,” Wade purrs, winking at you with a dramatic flutter of his lashes, “I've got a five-year plan.”

You roll your head to the side lazily, sheep ears swaying as you do. “I’ll give you points for persistence.”

"Damn straight," he says with a grin, straightening his bonnet proudly. “This level of commitment takes stamina. And by the way, I’ve got great stamina. My record is thirteen.”

You raise your brow, intrigued. “Thirteen what? Rounds? Hours?”

“Wouldn't you like to know,” he scoffs indignantly, rolling his eyes. “I’m more than just a pretty face in a killer dress, thank you very much.”

You groan, giving him a light push. "You’re impossible."

Wade grins, leaning closer to throw an arm around your shoulders. “I’m just pulling your tail, Wooly. You know I’d never come between you and your beefy boy toy. I mean, look at him. He’s practically pacing the kitchen like a caged animal just looking at you in your slutty nursery rhyme getup. How pathetic.”

You turn to steal a glance at Logan, who’s leaned against the counter scanning the room from behind his beer bottle. You feel a thrill at the idea that he’s watching over you like a hawk, making sure no one gets too close, slowly working himself up over the mere sight of you. 

But more than that, it’s the slight reluctant smirk tugging at his lips as he takes in the party. You can tell he’s managing to find some enjoyment in all this, even if he’d never admit it.

“Well,” Wade starts, dragging the word out slowly. “Since you’re all cozy over here with your alpha male, I’m gonna go find someone to share these…”

He holds up two shot glasses filled with some unidentifiable neon liquid, “…artisanal beverages with. Maybe that guy dressed like a merman. I’ve always wanted to see what's going on under those tails.”

You snort, raising your own cup to your lips. "You're awful."

“Only on the outside, sugar,” he says leaning down to kiss your cheek with a wet smack before flouncing away into the crowd, his skirt swishing as he goes. “Don’t fuck in my house without at least inviting me to watch!”

You laugh to yourself, watching as Wade fades into the crowd of gyrating bodies. You take another long sip, relishing in the familiar burn as it slips down your throat.

The laughter, the music, the chaotic energy of the party—it’s all intoxicating in its own right, but it’s nothing compared to the way Logan’s eyes are boring a hole through the back of your head.

You can feel his gaze like a tangible force, wrapping around you and drawing you in. Logan’s not just watching; he’s assessing, hungry for something that goes far beyond the Halloween festivities surrounding you.

The heat radiating from his gaze only intensifies your already buzzing anticipation, mixing dangerously with the two drinks swirling in your stomach, making you bolder.

You throw back the rest of your drink, setting the empty cup on the bar and making your way across the room. You weave through the crowd seamlessly, the music pulses around you, drowning out the laughter and chatter.

You feel a daring grin spread across your face as you saunter closer, reveling in the way Logan tracks your every move like a predator zeroing in on its prey. 

When you’re finally standing in front of him, you lean against the counter, giving him a good view of the way your corset dips lower. The fabric hugs you in all the right places, teasing him with glimpses of your skin beneath the delicate lace. 

"Looks like Little Bo Peep lost his sheep," he mutters, voice like gravel drenched in honey.

You smirk, tilting your head to the side innocently as you step around the counter. “Maybe I was already planning to run away, to go looking for a big bad wolf to play with.”

You slip two fingers through the belt loop at the front of his jeans, tugging him closer with a rough yank.

Logan’s goes willingly, taking a step closer. His breath hitches as he does, the hazel of his eyes darkening as you press your body against his, not letting an inch of space between you.

“You're really pushin it,” he warns lowly, hands finding your waist, fingers digging in hard enough to send a shiver cascading down your spine. "Makin’ me watch you run around in this fuckin’ thing.”

“Am I?” you reply coyly, fingers toying with the button of his jeans. “I’m just—” you start, but the words are swallowed by the thumping bass of the music as Logan’s lips crash against yours, silencing you with a hungry kiss.

His mouth moves against yours with a fervor that leaves you breathless, and you can’t help but melt into him, feeling the world around you fade away.

The taste of beer mingles with the vodka on your tongue as you sink into the kiss, his hands tightening around you as he pulls you even closer.

“You have no fuckin’ idea how hard it is keepin’ my hands to myself,” he murmurs against your lips, his breath hot and heavy. 

“Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea,” you tease, biting your lip as you pull back just enough to meet his gaze. You can see the fire smoldering in his eyes, the predatory glint that makes your stomach flutter with excitement. “But maybe you could show me just how hard it really is.”

Logan lets out a low growl, and before you can blink, he’s snatching your wrist up and dragging you through the kitchen. 

Laughter bubbles out from your chest as you trip over your own feet in an attempt to keep up with him. Adrenaline pulses through your veins, the warmth in your stomach dipping lower to leak sticky and wet between your thighs.

He’s not rushing, but there’s an undeniable urgency in his step, a raw need that makes your pulse race in sync with his heavy stride. Weaving you through the crowd and out into the hallway until the noise of the party gets lower and lower. 

You’re familiar enough with the layout of Wade’s place to know where Logan’s taking you, the bathroom.

The door is hardly shut before Logan’s spinning you around and crowding you against the sink. His lips are on you before you can even catch your breath, rough and possessive, as if he’s been starving for this all night. 

The kiss is rougher than before, dirty and all consuming as he claims your mouth. A mess of teeth and tongue and spit that sends your head spinning, body arching off the counter and into his instinctively. 

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he growls, trailing his lips down your neck, kissing and biting his way to your collarbone. “Drivin’ me so crazy, baby.”

You bite your lip, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as his calloused fingers trace over the swell of your breasts, kneading the soft flesh with a possessive grip that makes your breath hitch. 

Your arms circle his neck, dragging him down for more filthy kisses. The thick length of his cock pressing against your stomach insistently has you keening, a hard plane of scalding warmth even through the thick material of his jeans.

You let out a soft whimper as his fingers brush against your inner thigh, and he grins at your reaction.

He leans in, his breath hot against your ear. "Bet you’re already soaked for me, aren’t you?" His voice drops even lower, a filthy rasp that sends a jolt of heat straight to your core.

You don’t answer, can’t answer, because Logan’s already got his hand between your thighs, fingers teasing over the soft fabric of your bloomers.

His touch is feather-light, but it’s enough to have you gasping, head lolling back to expose even more of your neck to his fever hot lips.

He groans when he feels how soaked you are, his breath coming out in a rough exhale.

“Figures,” he grunts, his fingers pressing harder, rubbing slow circles over the slick fabric. “Could smell it on you from across the room. You’re fuckin’ drippin’ for me, baby.”

You whine, high in the back of your throat, chest heaving with every quick breath. Your legs spread, thighs widening like you can’t help it. His words send a wave of heat straight to your core, fanning the fire of need festering inside you. 

“Next year we’ll get you in a skirt,” he says, nipping at your bottom lip teasingly. His fingers slip under your bloomers, running through your slick folds teasingly. “Easy access.”

You let out a breathless moan, your hips bucking against his hand, begging for more.

“Logan,” you whimper, but he just smirks, applying more pressure with his palm as he leans in closer, his mouth hovering over your ear.

“You like that, don’t you?” Logan rasps, his voice thick with desire. Dark tone laced with satisfaction as he dips one finger inside you, making your breath catch in your throat. “Look at you, drippin’ down my hand. You want more, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you nod frantically, your breath coming in shallow pants as he continues working you with skilled, relentless touches.

Two thick fingers plunged in your aching pussy, his thumb rubbing over your swollen clit. "Please," you whimper, gripping the edge of the sink so tight your knuckles turn with it, needing more, needing him to ruin you. 

“Please what, honey?” he rasps, leaning in to press a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You gotta be more specific.”

You grind against his hand faster, desperate for any kind of relief from the unbearable heat building between your legs. “I need you,” you breathe out, your voice trembling. “Need you to fuck me.”

Logan’s response is immediate. A low growl tearing its way from his throat as he gives your bottoms a rough tug, letting them fall down the length of your legs to pool at your ankles.

He slips his fingers out of you, ignoring your displeased whine and spinning you around to face the mirror, hands gripping your hips as he roughly bends you over the sink.

You find his eyes in the reflection, and the hunger there makes your pulse quicken. His lips are swollen, red and slick just like your own. Hazel eyes blown out and stormy, as he meets your gaze.

The fake whiskers and nose you drew on him before the party using an old eyeliner pen are smudged across the lower half of his face along with the red remnants of your lipstick. You have matching black marks scuffed along your cheeks.

"You’re gonna watch while I fuck you," he growls, popping the button of his jeans and pulling them down just enough to free his cock. He strokes himself once, twice, before lining up behind you, dragging the blunt head along your soaked entrance. "Don’t take your eyes off the mirror, baby. I want you to see what you do to me, what I get to see every fuckin’ time."

You nod breathlessly, eyes locked on his in the mirror as he pushes into you with one hard thrust. You gasp at the stretch, head falling to your chin at the pleasant burn of his cock.

"Fuck," Logan groans, his eyes glued to your reflection as he bottoms out inside you, the sheer size of him making your body tremble.

"Tight little fuckin’ pussy," he mutters, his grip on your hips tightening as he starts to move, setting a brutal, unrelenting pace. "You were made for this, weren’t you? Made to take my cock."

You can’t stop the moans that fall from your slack lips, pathetic little uh uh uh sounds that get punched out of you with every sharp thrust of his hips.

“Take me so fuckin’ well,” he growls, one hand coming up to grip around your throat, tugging meanly at the bell of your choker that rings as he pounds into you, each thrust harder than the last. “Such a good little sheep, lettin’ your mean old wolf fuck you like this.”

 "Fuck," you moan, the sound broken and desperate as he drives deeper, the thick length of him hitting that spot that has your knees buckling beneath you. “God, Logan…”

“Look,” Logan commands softly, reverently. His lips brushing your shoulder with every word as he tilts your head back up to the mirror, making yourself watch as you take his cock. “Look at how fuckin’ pretty you are getting wrecked on my cock.”

Your reflection in the mirror is a mess—flushed cheeks, eyes glassy with lust, your lips parted in a constant stream of breathless moans. You feel embarrassment mixing with the arousal swirling through your stomach, thighs shaking wildly from the onslaught of pleasure.

The loud slap of skin on skin rings through the tiny bathroom, underscored by the wet gush of your pussy around him each time he buries himself in you.

If anyone were to walk by, they’d surely hear it. They’d know someone was getting fucked, really taking it. The thought alone has you tightening around Logan’s cock, velvety walls clenching around him desperately. 

Logan notices, because of course he does, clever eyes picking up on the way your own drift to the door, lingering.

He threads his fingers through your hair, meanly yanking your head back to the mirror, a feral grin stretching across his face as he watches the way you fall apart for him. 

“Want me to howl for you, baby?” he teases, breath hot against the shell of your ear. You can feel the way his lips curve into an evil grin at the pathetic whine that bursts from your lips, at the feel of your pussy drooling around him even more than before.  

“She likes that, huh?” he chuckles darkly, his thumb finds your throbbing clit, rubbing tight circles as his hips speed up impossibly faster. “Dirty fuckin’ girl, you want everyone to know how good I’m givin’ it to you?”

You whimper, overwhelmed by the raw intensity of his words and the rhythm of his thrusts. Your thighs are trembling, barely able to hold you up as Logan takes you apart, piece by piece, with every deep, punishing stroke.

"Answer me," he growls, voice dripping with dominance as his hips snap against you, the head of his cock slamming into that perfect spot inside you again and again. "You want everyone to hear what a dirty little slut you are for me, huh? You want them to know how much you love being fucked like this?"

“Yes,” you gasp, your voice shaky and breathless as pleasure floods your system. "Yes, Logan, fuck—ah! Just—just don’t stop."

Logan growls, low and feral deep in his chest. It shakes through your body, rattling your bones just as much as the heavy smack of his metal laced pelvis against the raw skin of your ass.

“Greedy fuckin’ pussy, I can feel the way she’s sucking me in, baby,” he grits out, hips stuttering slightly. “She want my come, darlin’?"

You’re a mess of gasps and whimpers, nodding frantically as his words push you closer to the edge. Throwing your hips back to meet his thrusts as the spring inside you coils tighter and tighter, a hair's breadth away from snapping.

"Yes, please, Logan," you moan, your fingers digging into the counter as you brace yourself for the relentless onslaught of his cock. "I want it, want you to come inside me." 

Logan’s hips stutter as he slams into you, his cock buried so deep inside you it feels like he’s splitting you in half. He’s close, his breath coming out in ragged pants as his hand tightens around your throat, fingers pressing against your pulse just hard enough to make you dizzy.

“You’re gonna come for me,” he growls, heavy balls slapping against your ass lewdly. “Gonna come all over my cock, aren’t you? And then I’m gonna fill you up. Gonna fuck my come so deep inside you, you’ll be beggin’ me to give you more.”

That’s all it takes for the coil in your belly to snap, pleasure surging through you in hot, uncontrollable waves. You cry out, your vision blurring as your body clenches around him, and Logan lets out a rough growl, driving into you harder, faster. 

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow, dragging out every last second of your orgasm until you’re shaking, your voice hoarse from how loud you’re moaning.

“Goddamn, baby,” he mutters, his voice thick with lust as he keeps fucking into your trembling body. “You’re squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight—gonna come so deep in you.”

Your breath is coming in short, desperate gasps, your entire body still shaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm. But Logan isn’t finished. He used the fistful of your hair still trapped in his hand, tugging your head back to meet his wild gaze in the mirror. 

“Eyes on me,” he commands, his pace growing erratic. “You want me to fill you up? Want me to come in this tight little pussy?”

“Yes, Logan,” you manage to choke out, your voice barely a whisper. “Please—I need it.”

With a deep, broken groan of your name, Logan slams into you one last time, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you, hot and thick. His fingers tighten on your throat, and you moan at the feeling of his cock pulsing, filling you up to the brim. 

You can’t stop the whine that falls from your lips at the feel of his come spraying your insides, completely drenching you with it. So much that it just has to take.

A shudder runs through you at the idea, pussy clenching around his spent cock weakly.

Logan sighs contently, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder as he catches his breath, hands falling to your waist like it's the only anchor keeping him from floating away entirely.

For a moment, the only sounds in the room are your ragged breaths and the faint thump of the music outside bleeding through the walls.

Logan tips his head back up, meeting your hazy eyes in the fogged up glass of the mirror with a shit-eating grin. “Happy fuckin’ Halloween,” he says smugly, dropping a kiss to the sweaty skin of your shoulder. 

You huff, rolling your eyes with a reluctant fondness. The thought of walking back out there makes your stomach turn, nerves and arousal churning together at the chance that everyone knows what you two were doing after disappearing for so long.

You only hope the white fabric of your bloomers is good enough at hiding the come already leaking from your pussy.

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[alchemistc]

Consider this the emotional sibling of the Eddie Makes It Worse series.

"I have thought about it, you know," Eddie says, and Tommy nearly inhales the straw of his stupidly sweet cocktail. That's what he gets for always accepting the drinks Buck decides a sip in aren't to his taste.

Eddie gives him a hearty slap on the back, and continues before Tommy's done more than wheeze.

"I had to recontextualize like, seven years of my life after Buck met you. After you turned him into an insane person and also somehow a teenage girl with her first crush and no control or understanding of her emotions."

Tommy's too busy trying to stretch the knot out of his neck and breathe through his nose to call him out on gendering his comparisons. In his experience, boys are the ones committing violence for attention. Not the point. So not the point, and he breathed half an ounce of vodka on top of that.

"I'm - sorry, what did you have to think about?"

Tommy absolutely knows what he's talking about. Eddie absolutely knows he knows. It's not quite out of left field, but definitely center field facing a righty before the shift got banned.

"About Buck. Me and Buck. Us and our... thing."

The shock of Eddie being introspective about this enough to be able to articulate it is enough to keep him quiet. He's not a dumb man. Far from it. It's just - in Tommy's experience Eddie tends to avoid looking internally with the same fervor you try to avoid latrine duty.

Eddie's watching him. Waiting for a reaction. They've already done this song and dance, so Tommy's not entirely sure what to do with this. What reaction Eddie's looking for.

"Okay?" Tommy prods, and Eddie rolls his eyes like the diva he is.

"Okay so, I'm saying. I am 100% sure I'm very straight. Because after Buck came out I thought about it."

"What are you saying?" That's his uncontrollably bitchy tone, right there. His eyebrows are probably putting in work. Eddie seems...incredibly nonplussed.

"I'm saying I thought about it."

Tommy rewinds. Considers the context that got them here, at the bar top, gathering a round for the table...Russo, Hen and Karen, Evan... Karen had made some offhand comment about Eddie and Evan that had made Eddie's eyes dart to his like he was looking for signs that Tommy was wearing Nike Zooms.

"Sorry, are you taking this opportunity, in this moment, to tell me you're definitely straight because you fantasized about fucking my boyfriend?"

Two stools down, a woman wearing a pair of neon suspenders and steel toe boots flicks her eyes away from them in the mirror over the bar.

Eddie's eye roll is always a marvel to behold, but this one might take the cake as far as disdainful energy rolling off him like an aura goes.

"Yeah, like you were worried about the physical attraction."

"Are you saying there is physical attraction?" What the fuck. What the fuck. Where the hell is he going with this?

"I'm saying we're each other's next of kin and he's in my will and I may be more subtle about it but I'm just as weird about him as he is about me. It's, like, contagious, man."

Tommy has to give him that point. His insanity levels have increased exponentially since meeting Evan Buckley. Realizing that taking the lid off of that actually made them stronger as a couple had really opened things up.

"I was having a nice night," Tommy says, and tries to wrangle this conversation back into some semblance of order. "What, exactly, are you trying to tell me?" Eddie opens his mouth and Tommy has to stop himself from smacking his hand across his lips to prevent him from speaking. He points a finger, instead. "If you say you thought about it, I swear to Christ, Diaz..."

"I think Buck probably had a crush on me when we first met. You know - pulling the pigtails, desperate to know way too much about me, that kind of thing."

Great. Cool. Tommy's feeling really good about where this is going.

"And I think I fucking desperately needed someone to love me, no strings attached. And Buck - he did that. No question. Almost from the jump."

Tommy downs the rest of the cocktail in one go. Yep. Still as bad as he remembered.

"So. After you guys got together, I... added some context. You weren't the only one who thought he was pissed at me for finding a second friend."

"What was your conclusion, exactly?"

"He's my best friend, Tommy. Family, in a way no one else will ever come close to. If he called and asked if I had a shovel, I'd be researching endangered plant species before we even got off the phone."

Getting Eddie into true crime podcasts was a mistake. "Ride or die, yeah, we all know."

"See, I don't think you do, Tommy. I really don't think you do."

If they could get to the point, already, Tommy might not have to gouge his own eye out with the cocktail straw poking temptingly out of the empty glass in front of him.

"Because as much as I care about him, as much as he cares about me - we'd never be what the other needed. I'm too in my own head all the time. He's - way too needy." Tommy wants to contest this assassination of his boyfriends character, but Eddie seems like he might actually be meandering somewhere near the point. "And, yeah, sure, I did once attempt to figure out if I was attracted to him."

Jesus fucking Christ. They're in a bar. They have an audience, at this point, even if it is just the lesbian couple two stools over and the bartender who's either needs to tap a new keg or learn how to pour without creating a drink that's mostly head.

"My point is the only reason you should be concerned about me is if you ever piss Buck off bad enough for him to need an alibi."

The words come out before he's had time to filter them through his brain. "Did you get off?"

Yeah. The cocktail was mostly vodka, but there's no way in hell he can blame that entirely on alcohol. He'd had a wallowing jack-off or two featuring more than just Evan, in the months he'd drive past Evan's loft hoping for some rain and for Sia to organically pop up on his Spotify station.

Eddie slides a shot of tequila in Tommy's direction. He doesn't remember ordering those. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Edmundo."

"Thomathan."

Tommy takes the shot without bothering to cheers him. He doesn't deserve the time it would take for his mouth to form the "Salute". Hell, he's not even worthy of a "Cin Cin", not with his face doing whatever it's doing right now.

"Tell Buck he's welcome from me," Eddie says, and before Tommy can do much more than blink he's gathering up all but Tommy and Evan's drinks to take them back to their table.

This feels like a mind game. He isn't sure whether he's meant to be grateful, or murderous. Two stools down, Suspenders swivels to stare at him. "You look like you just got slapped in the face with a fish," she says. The bartender eyes him like she might be thinking of pouring him another shot.

"Hi," Evan says, directly into his ear, and Tommy jolts. "Eddie said you were right behind him. Did your arms stop working?"

"Just his brain, honey," Suspenders chimes in. The woman to her left titters into her hand.

"Give it to me straight," Tommy says, and Suspenders snorts into her drink. "Has Eddie told you about his Thinking About It process?"

"Oh, with the trying to picture enjoying me naked?"

Tommy pinches his nose and makes a valiant effort to ignore the hand slapping down on the bar top to his left, the canned attempt at hiding a choked laugh. "Sure. That. Normal best friend things."

"If it makes you feel any better, I think I got even less enjoyment out of it than he did."

Suspenders wheezes.

"You did it together?"

"Gross, Tommy."

"Oh, sure, I'm the one reacting weirdly to this."

"If it makes you feel any better, we were broken up. And the only reason I even thought of it was - you know. Tech- technically your fault. You were the one wining and dining my straight best friend while I was trying to get your attention."

Suspenders girlfriend is having a conveniently timed coughing fit.

"Am I having a stroke?" Tommy asks, but it comes out perfectly coherent, so knock that off the list.

"Do you wanna go home?" Evan has the ability to switch moods on a dime. Tommy's really never seen someone so good at it. "I can settle the tab. I - are you okay? Do you need - water, or - " he's reaching for a stool " - or we can sit."

Tommy's been resistant to being taken care of since he can remember. There's something to the way Evan approaches it - purposeful, the opposite of effortless - that makes Tommy want to crumble like a house of cards. He snags Evan's wrist in his hand. "Evan."

As usual, that's all it takes to still him, for a moment. The cheeks rise, the dimples grow more prominent, his eyes alight on Tommy's like he's seeing something worth looking at.

"I love you. Your best friend is insane and you're half a step behind him, and I love you."

It's not the first time. Thank fuck, that would be a terrible way to drop that bomb. But it's still new enough not to be casual. New enough to make Evan's cheeks burn a rosy pink.

Evan smirks. "You wanna get out of here?"

He'd been enjoying a conversation with Karen, twenty minutes ago, but he doubts he'd be able to form a single coherent thought anymore. The green demon he's kept under wraps for forever now has somehow both gone dormant and is currently trying to convince him to toss Evan over his shoulder and make a break for it.

Tommy makes eye contact with the bartender. Raps his knuckles against the bar top.

Evan's grin goes a little feral.

[ghelullu]

Berlin 2025 skeletour recap!

Tl;dr: no underwear confirmed by showing off ✨hair💫, continues tradition of papa giving Berlin extra love

More under the cut

Peacefield live is always so so so good, god what a great opener

One (1) song in and papa already showed skin

He's gotten much more creature since I last saw him in Frankfurt and I love thst for him

Spent a lot of time being in a creature competition with mostly rain, but also cirrus

He's also become much more of a diva in some interactions with ghouls and the audience, also after he did some vocals, I think it was the high bit at the end of spirit, very well and the audience cheered, he had this smug face (good for him and also deserved, his vocals are exceptional)

They played cmls and ftpttp again

He was very smiley today!!!

Dew is much more mobile now, still has the boot of course, but walks/limps around on stage a lot and is almost back to his usual little shit self

Phantom still carries the show, once again: he's so good!

Rain is very creature, headbangs so hard thst his headpiece flops around; did a very funny tired-of-your-shit bit when dew does his annoying guitar thing at the end of ritual

Cirrus is the queen, lots of tongue during her keytar solo, we stan. Her and dews sexy instrumental in umbra is SO well executed, they harmonise so so well

The other ghoulettes are very cute and joined dew again at the front of the stage, the cowbell still rules

silly Papa dance during TFIAL

The no jacket, only the silky shirt look for TFIAL is deadly and he KNOWS it. People need to stop the "perpetua is shy" thing, he's hot shit and he knows

He did quite a bit of fingering during cirice bye

And ALSO during dathoml (towards dew, too and dew did some filthy guitaring at him in response, sluts, both of them). German audience loved the song and he let us sing bits of it successfully!

Papa goes through it during satanized, especially during the guitar solo, but also the Latin part (featuring monkbias now on the screen??? Big cheer from the audience)... BUT I think he got the paralysed, laicised etc thing correctly this time???

Oh BTW the teleprompter is back, bht being the showman he is, he didn't look at it a lot tbh, he's VERY busy interacting with the audience and it's so nice to see

The way papa raises from below the stage with the cowbell raised above his head triumphantly before snapping out of it nd staring at it confused kills me

What also killed me was how he stared into my eyes again at the beginning of umbra for a LONG time and I just can't handle this, riperoni

Year zero live. Nuff said. Wonderful experience always. No serpent deceiver though, but he did count oddly

He was rather chatty today, he spoke some German again, talked about that he loves Berlin and thst he of course wasn't here before, but the other guys were. Mentioned the first show some 15 years ago and asked if someone was there (a guy cheered and was declared the boss now). Tf truly seems to enjoy Berlin, he always has very warm words for it (beyond the usual pleasantries singers always say for the place they're currently playing in)

Ktgg featured very bouncy papa again, and lots of skin when the shirt went up with his arms, he seemed to have a ton of fun, which is always nice to see

He blew a perpetua cosplayer a big prominent kiss which was hilarious

I think this is a good moment to mention that his shirt goes higher up than usual when he really lifts his arms and leans back and thst his already very low riding pants slip even lower all the time and combining these two things ended up showing us definite proof that there's no underwear anywhere, yeah, uhm. So. There was hair.

Absolute slut.

Taint tickling is BACK for mummy dust

He started mummy dust with thrusts right away, touched the ghulge intensely, deep thrusts for the usual thrusty bit, all around very horny, very growly, nice.

He did the school night bit again but didn't take into account that Berlin has a holiday tomorrow and was like "are you fucking with me????" 😂(same tbh bc I also only learned about the holiday today); always impressed with how good his German pronunciation is, he said Mittwoch perfectly

I can't express my love for monstrance clock as a closer enough. It was my first ghost song ever and it's such a fantastic closer with everyone singing it. Truly wonderful. And horny.

His encore speech was very funny, I forgot almost all of it sadly, but he mocked us in a fake German accent for being predictable and then said they're not like other bands, they don't have any good stuff for an encore left, they'll now play some improvised jazz rap or krautrock (I would kill for him to perform krautrock pls), he really was so relaxed and chatty!

Bouncy papa for Dance Macabre and we got a single "wobble!", more skin, more touching, more dying (I was the one dying)

Dew and Papa hugged before Squammer and Dew squeezed and kinda stroked his waist a bit during the little speech thing he does there (also pointing out Dews boot situation during the show!)

Squammer ended not with the long note but "right here, right... That's it, we are done Berlin" (or something like that, I don't remember the exact words but it was so funny)

Honestly these shows are so much fun, there's so much going on, they have figured out almost all the technical issues, it's so so good

He let the audience sing multiple bits, which is incredibly brave with German audiences, we are notoriously horrible and shy, but it worked WELL! Proud of us

I wish they'd turn up papas mic during some songs more and ESPECIALLY during his talking bits bc often you can't really hear him (often the drums are still going etc, it's very difficult to understand what he says sometimes)

I managed to smuggle a 750ml bottle into the venue in my bra so that's my big brag of the night, it saved my life - only for then to be killed by multiple papa eye contact incidents and the....... Other situation

[iamgonnagetyouback]

can you please please please write more for mattheo riddle x potter!reader. maybe the family going to one of harry’s games, accompanied by reader and mattheo? (maybe featuring the marauders?) i’d love to read anything, it doesn’t even have to be this!! hope you have a great night :)

MOST DISTRACTING PERSON.⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ㅤ ㅤ●ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ M. RIDDLE

SUMMARY ৎ୭ ever since mattheo started tagging along with your family, he's made it his mission to annoy harry at every opportunity. so when he joins you all to watch harry’s quidditch match, he somehow ends up charming the entire crowd—much to harry’s absolute misery

WARNINGS ಇ. minor harry slander, and excessive smugness from mattheo MORE OF THESE THREE￫ ୨ৎ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᡣ𐭩 words.ᐟ 1,180

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

It was one of those rare, crisp days at Hogwarts where the skies were clear, and the breeze was just right. The perfect day for Quidditch—or at least, that’s what your brother Harry would say if he weren’t busy being a massive diva about the whole thing.

The stands were packed with students from every House, cheering, waving banners, and clapping in anticipation of the Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff match. And to make the occasion even more dramatic than usual, your parents, James and Lily, had shown up, along with Sirius, Remus, and Peter, all seated proudly in the stands, ready to cheer Harry on.

Unfortunately for Harry, you had brought along a certain Slytherin boyfriend of yours—Mattheo Riddle.

“Merlin’s beard,” Harry groaned under his breath, glancing up at the stands where Mattheo had already worked his charm on the crowd. “Why did you bring him?”

You shrugged, a smirk playing on your lips. “Well, he wanted to support you.”

Harry snorted. “Support? Please, he’s just here to make me miserable.”

You glanced at Mattheo, who had somehow managed to get half the Hufflepuff supporters waving at him and even Remus giving him an approving nod. “He’s being perfectly nice. Maybe you’re the one being dramatic.”

Harry threw you a look that said he was this close to throwing himself off his broom. “Dramatic? I’m not dramatic. He’s just—ugh, why is he even waving at people?”

Sure enough, Mattheo was leaning casually against the railing of the Gryffindor stands, flashing a charming smile at anyone who passed by. Every few minutes, he waved, winked, or nodded at a student, causing a flurry of giggles and whispers.

“He’s not supposed to be the center of attention!” Harry muttered furiously, his grip tightening on his broom. “This is my game!”

You patted his shoulder in mock sympathy. “Don’t worry, Harry. Everyone still knows you’re the main attraction.”

“Barely,” he huffed.

Down in the stands, Sirius barked out a laugh, clapping Mattheo on the back. “You’ve got style, kid,” he said, clearly approving of Mattheo’s ability to woo an entire Quidditch crowd without even trying.

“Thanks, Sirius,” Mattheo replied, throwing an arm around you as you sat next to him. “Just here to support my favorite team, after all.”

Harry, overhearing from the pitch, yelled, “Gryffindor is not your favorite team, Riddle!”

Mattheo only grinned and gave him a two-fingered salute, causing Harry to grumble and fly off toward his team.

Remus leaned over to James and muttered, “He’s got quite the influence, doesn’t he?”

James laughed. “He’s a slippery one, that’s for sure. But if he’s got Lily’s approval, who am I to argue?”

Lily, who had been watching Mattheo’s interaction with you, gave a knowing smile. “I think he’s good for her. Keeps things interesting.”

Sirius waggled his eyebrows. “If Harry doesn’t throw him off a broom first.”

The whistle blew, and the game began. But the match wasn’t the only source of entertainment that day.

Every time Harry swooped in for a save, Mattheo would cheer—loudly. “Go on, Potter!” he yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth. “That’s my future brother-in-law!”

Harry nearly lost control of his broom at that, swerving dangerously to avoid a Bludger. “Future brother-in-law?” he shouted, his voice shrill. “Absolutely not!”

The Hufflepuff Seeker zipped past him while Harry was distracted, and you couldn’t help but bury your face in your hands in secondhand embarrassment.

Sirius howled with laughter. “He’s really got Harry rattled!”

“Not to mention the Hufflepuffs,” Peter added with a chuckle. “Look at them. They’re more focused on Mattheo than their own game.”

It was true. Several Hufflepuff players kept sneaking glances at Mattheo, who was now waving at them enthusiastically, giving them a thumbs-up and shouting words of encouragement like he was their biggest fan.

“RIDDLE!” Harry’s voice echoed across the pitch, and he shot a death glare at Mattheo, who was absolutely thriving in the attention.

Mattheo leaned back in his seat, hands behind his head, and winked up at the sky as though Harry’s rage fueled him. “Doing great, Potter!” he yelled, entirely too pleased with himself.

When the match finally ended, Gryffindor won by a hair’s breadth, mostly thanks to Harry’s furious speed after seeing Mattheo charm his way through half the match. The second his feet hit the ground, Harry stormed over to you and Mattheo, his broom still in hand.

“You,” Harry said, pointing an accusatory finger at Mattheo. “You are the most distracting person in the world.”

Mattheo, unfazed, smirked. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It’s not!” Harry spluttered, his voice rising to that familiar, high-pitched squeak of frustration. “You—you made the Hufflepuffs fall for your stupid charm! And you kept shouting things about being my brother-in-law!”

Mattheo shrugged, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Just manifesting the future, Potter. You know how it is.”

“No, I do not know how it is!” Harry snapped. “And stop manifesting things!”

You tried to hold back a laugh, patting Harry on the arm. “Come on, Harry, he was just cheering you on.”

“Cheering me on?” Harry repeated, looking at you incredulously. “He’s a Slytherin! He’s supposed to be evil and plotting things, not—this!” He gestured wildly at Mattheo, who was now sharing a victory fist-bump with Sirius.

“Well, mate,” James said, clapping a hand on Harry’s shoulder as he walked over, “he’s certainly got style. Reminds me of me back in the day.”

Harry looked at his father, horrified. “Dad, don’t encourage him!”

James just laughed, ruffling Harry’s already wild hair. “Relax, kid. He’s not so bad.”

“Not so bad?” Harry echoed, looking around at his family, all of whom seemed perfectly content with Mattheo tagging along. “Am I the only one who sees what’s happening here?”

Lily smiled warmly. “Harry, he’s good for her. You’ll see.”

Harry groaned, defeated, dragging a hand down his face. “I don’t understand this family.”

Mattheo grinned, pulling you closer as your parents walked ahead. “You’re just mad because I stole your spotlight today.”

Harry glared. “No, I’m mad because you exist.”

Mattheo laughed, a deep, genuine sound that made you roll your eyes but smile nonetheless. “Get used to it, Potter. I’m not going anywhere.”

With a final groan, Harry shook his head and trudged off to join the rest of the family, muttering to himself about how this had to be some kind of cosmic joke. You couldn’t help but laugh as Mattheo, walked beside you, his charm having worked its magic on everyone except your very, very grumpy brother.

“Harry’ll warm up to me eventually,” Mattheo said confidently, as if it were inevitable.

You smiled up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Or he’ll keep trying to hex you every chance he gets.”

“Ah, it’s all part of the fun,” Mattheo said with a wink. “Besides, I’ve got the rest of the Potters on my side. What’s one grumpy Chosen One?”

Harry, hearing that from a few feet away, let out another dramatic groan. “Merlin, why me?”

Somehow, you knew life was only going to get more interesting from here.

©iamgonnagetyouback౨ৎ please refrain from copying, translating, or reposting any of my work

[therealcocoshady]

POV : You’re Marshall Mathers’s girlfriend and he worships you

Author’s Note : Hi guys ✨. I feel like it’s been a while since I last published something on here. Enjoy this little blurb I wrote. It’s kind of random but I think it’s kind of cute still 💕.

Marshall Mathers doesn’t really enjoy being treated like a king wherever he goes. He knows people give him special treatment out of respect, because he is a huge fucking superstar, but he doesn’t really care for it. He’s just a normal dude at heart, you know ? He likes it when things are kept simple. He’s not a huge fan of the deference, of people practically bowing and curtsying to him because he is Eminem. It’s weird.

But when it comes to you ? People better treat you like the absolute monarch that you are. This man will not accept anything less for the woman he loves. You are his sun. His days start and end with you. You are a deity he worships day and night and people better put some respect on his lady’s name.

He is not giving you the princess treatment. No. This would be good enough for any peasant. If he could, this man would build altars and monuments for you. You are his religion. Your birthday and the anniversary of your first date are holidays he refuse to work on. Doesn’t matter if he’s offered hundreds of thousands of dollars for a ten minutes performance, he simply refuses to be away from you on those days. And if you so much as utter an « I need you », this man will drop absolutely everything. He’s done it in the past and he absolutely has no regrets about flying for five hours on a day off from tour to be able to surprise you at work after you mentioned it was « so hard being away » from him. He is usually mindful about climate change but for you, this man will turn into Taylor « taking my jet for a ten minutes flight » Swift. He literally doesn’t care about the world burning as long as there is a smile on your face. Marshall is not a big spender but for you, he doesn’t care about numbers. His goddess deserves the very best and, thank God for that merch money, he is able to give it to you. He’s not a diva but he demands the very best for you. He couldn’t care less about the water brought to him in his dressing room before a performance. But he makes sure it’s your favorite brand. Same for snacks. If he has to fly someone to another country to get something for you, he absolutely will. In his mind, it’s the least he can do for the woman who blesses him with her presence. He is almost offended when someone fails to greet you properly and he absolutely is when someone straight up disrespects you. If he could, he would fight duels in your honor. Somehow, you managed to turn this stoic individual in the utmost gentleman. When he’s by your side, you will never be caught walking on the wrong side of the pavement, having to hold your own bags. He’d rather die than have that. But you’ll never be caught. Because he protects you like you’re the most precious treasure there is. He’s never caught in your presence, because he doesn’t want to have you plagued by the media and harassed by fans and, yet, he manages to show you off. In private, he doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he’s head over heels with you. Your name is on his lips constantly, and the way he talks about you shows just how devoted he is. At first, people close to him got a little worried. Who were you ? What were your intentions ? It seemed like you were out of nowhere. Walked into Marshall’s life one day and, from then on, he was addicted. They had every reason to be suspicious. And then, they met you. And they understood. They got to witness the genuineness of your interactions, how your eyes mirrored Marshall’s devotion, the way he leaned into your touch so naturally and just how you seemed to heal the parts of him that had been left raw. For the first time in forever, they saw him at peace. Not merely content. Happy. They expected to hate you, because what kind of high maintenance brat has the most stoic man they ever knew act like a puppy ? Only, they couldn’t. It wasn’t quite clear how things worked out between you and Marshall and, in hindsight, it was none of their business. But they couldn’t hate you when it was clear as day that « Em » as most call him, had finally found a safe space. So you won them over as well, and they gave you the princess treatment.

[eloise175]

The new official illustration for the new collab caffee is absolutely gorgeous—love love love the Alice in Wonderland theme going on! We also saw another of Penelope’s dresses that called back to this theme in the manhwa (the blue one from the island arc)

Didn’t know I needed Callisto acting the part of the red queen until today eugheugheugh look at those biceps he’s so beefy *dies*

And I know we knew as much since pretty much the beginning, but it’s so liberating to finally see Callisto take on the mantle as the true official male lead and endgame of the story!! He’s finally getting the spotlight he deserves in both series and merch, I cannot stress enough how happy this makes me GO CALLISTO GO *explodes*

Y’know what—the rest of the male leads as chibis are so stinking cute, I want to wrap them up in a blanked and put them in my pocket aaaaaa

And you know ya girl is getting the corottos of these little stinkers, this time I’m actually pretty tempted to get them all instead of my usual tunnel vision for mostly Callisto and Penelope, and occasionally Reynold

COUPLE STANDEES WE WON SO BAD AUGH

Finallyyyyyyy omfg—fucking finally, we’ve been waiting to get couple standees of these two, it was always other manhwas but never vadd *sobs*

Crazy to see that we actually made it, and with this result no less, the standees are absolutely breathtaking!! Apparently if you buy them both together you get some sort of ‘couple bracelet’ or smth as a little extra which is so adorable, can’t wait to make a lil’ review of these when I order and get them :D

PENELOPE IS WEARING CALLISTO’S CAPE AAAAAAA *disintegrates*

Back to the art though; another thing I absolutely love about today’s new illustration is this hearts detail—Callisto is dropping four hearts into Penelope’s open hand, she’s willingly accepting them. Not only that—there’s two red hearts (symbolizing Callisto) and two magenta hearts (symbolizing Penelope)

But that’s not all!! Usually these crystal hearts were used to symbolize the male leads and their affection scores in the covers—and what do we have here? Exactly four hearts for the other remaining ‘male leads;’ Callisto basically replaced those with his own and Penelope’s

He’s such an extra diva lmfao, love him for that hevhsbsjs

[chigsprincess]

The sound of your heart

a/n: hii, everyone! this has been sitting in my drafts for a while and i finally finished it. i promise to get back to writing requests soon, but finals week was exhausting, to say the least, and i need to find my motivation to do anything lol.

when you write a love song dedicated to them -h.chigiri, m.kaiser, y.isagi, m.bachira

Chigiri Hyoma

The song is a lot more intimate and heartfelt than your usual music, but your fans are obsessed with it.

You captured his essence so well that you couldn’t even deny it was about him. Not that you wanted to.

He acts like a diva on the field, so the fans love that you pointed out his more tender side. Now everyone knows he blushes when you call him cute nicknames.

It became a ritual for him to listen to it before every game. It’s his new religion.

He definitely teared up when he first heard it but made you promise you wouldn’t tell anyone.

Even the people praying for your relationship’s downfall admitted defeat after hearing it. They just accepted that you are taken for life.

His teammates have called him ‘lover boy’ ever since. At least they finally switched up from ‘princess’.

Kaiser Michael

It’s not the first song you wrote about him, but it’s definitely the most impactful one.

It’s sweet, it’s adorable and it’s the complete opposite of his vibe on the field and during interviews.

All the fans who thought you were too good for him shut up really quickly after listening to it.

The internet is buzzing with comments like: ‘If I was her ex I’d never recover.’

He actually flashes a genuine smile when he gets asked about it in interviews. He is obsessed with the song and even more obsessed with you.

He doesn’t understand how can you love him so much. It’s actually beyond his comprehension, but he tries his best to live up to your feelings.

He also listens to it before every match. And when he wakes up, and when he eats lunch and when he has an ounce of free time on his hands, so basically all the time.

He vowed to himself that no matter what happens, he wouldn’t mess this up. He won’t lose you.

Isagi Yoichi

You described him like a literal piece of art in the song, like the most valuable thing you ever had and he is bawling when he first hears it.

This man is absolutely clueless about how attractive he actually is, so you definitely surprised him with some of your lyrics.

It’s a warm and emotional song that focuses on the small moments of life and highlights how grateful you are to have him.

It’s definitely the love song of the decade, everyone and their mother heard it at least once.

His fans became obsessed with you. It’s not like they had anything against you before, but after this, you basically became the soccer significant other.

His teammates are done with him, he literally never shuts up about you or the song. They can just simply ask him about his day and he still finds a way to bring it into discussion. They are all just jealous anyway.

Bachira Meguru

The song is upbeat and bouncy just like him, but it’s also very sweet.

When he first heard it he was driving and had to pull over to the side of the road to start an insta live to bawl to his fans about how beautiful it is.

Genuinely so grateful for you. You are all he ever wanted and more. He feels so special after hearing it.

“‘You kissed me mid-sentence ‘cause you ‘just couldn’t wait.’ Is so real! I always -insert small kisses- do that!”

Wears your merch unironically. Proud supporter of you and your work.

Still tears up whenever he hears it on the radio.

He holds up cardboard signs at your concerts that say things like “MARRY ME (jk unless???)”

Fans call you the chaos duo, but you two stole the title of power couple of the century.

word count: 645

[strawbfieldz]

my top 10 dateables!!!

⚠️ CONTAINS SPOILERS ⚠️

I keep redoing my top 10 list but now that I’ve played through most of the characters’ routes, I feel more confident this will be the final version… or maybe not! I might change my mind again later, we’ll see.

honorable mentions

bobby ; I love their backstory and their aesthetic! I want to forcibly adopt them!

bathsheba ; I am a sucker for mean ladies and divas (though I did get friendzoned by her in my main save 😔)

harper ; again, I like mean ladies. I would happily have a toxic relationship with her!

zoey ; I love, love her story and character arc. she probably has my favorite storyline in the game—right behind diana’s!

chance ; I like him more platonically bc I just love nerds in general but also playing g&g was really fun!!!

now onto the real list…

#10 — jean loo pissoir

(sigh) I fell for the propaganda. I love my french soundcloud (c)rapper toilet boyfriend! he also seems to be actually good at rapping… at least I think, idk anything about rapping! anyways he makes me laugh, what can I say? and I can appreciate that he has standards. he was one of the last characters I did just because I wanted to make sure I had high enough SPECS points haha.

#9 — tina

I’ll be the first to admit, I loved tina at first because of her v/a but if it wasn’t clear already, I just love mean ladies. honestly, she makes me laugh too and I love the theme of triangles. cons: she wants a throuple with tony and I don’t fw tony like that.

#8 — diana

I love her so so much, she’s so underrated. she has my favorite storyline in the game, mostly because the plot twist (?) or reveal is so cool to me. w/o spoilers, I think what they did with her character is really clever, and I love the mad hatter theme!

#7 — i, ronaldini

-AND WHAT’S THIS?! IT’S I, RONALDINI WITH A STEEL CHAIR! the newest addition to this list bc I was unaware of his existence until I met him and it was love at first sight! I have a thing for goofy, sexy magicians! (note; it would be so cute to adopt bobby with him!)

#6 — fantina

I really do love her storyline and I find her absolutely relatable… but I also want her at the same time haha. she’s adorable either way and her arc is *chef’s kiss*! (I wish most of the dialogue options talking to her weren’t so mean tho!)

#5 — parker bradley

once again I am crazy about nerds!!! he is so unhinged and chaotic and hilarious and I am so here for it. playing games with him is also just so fun and his v/a does a great job with him. I now understand how sexy board game rules can be!

#4 — lady memoria

there is absolutely not enough love and appreciation for memoria. she is NOSTALGIA and she’s GOTH, what more could you want?! she’s very morticia-coded, another character I love, and she has some of my favorite dialogue in the game. I srsly need everyone to start caring more about her NOW!

#3 — penelope

honestly penelope is just so me. I love her design, it’s my favorite design in the whole game and all of her dialogue and her storyline is so cute! she reminds me of olivia octavius haha but like… just the cute dork part.

#2 — hector

a fan favorite, I know, but a fan favorite for a reason!!! hector is who I originally bought the game for bc I’d seen enough about him to know I’d love him. I thought he would be my favorite (that would soon change) but I still love him for obvious reasons. creepy vent guy who stalks you and is very romantic is actually a shy, insecure dork who worships the ground you walk on, just needs help coming out of his shell a lil. #NEEDTHAT

#1 — jerry

…but who’s surprised, huh?? I doubt anyone since I’ve made him my entire personality since I first started playing the game but yes. this junk drawer has changed my brain chemistry. uhhh idk what else to say except hot nerd makes brain go awooga but also I just love his character arc (short as it may be) and all of the potential he has. <- may or may not have cried during his Realization, but you cannot prove anything in a court of law!!!

anyways. I’m tired now but yea jerry supremacy, I’d risk it all for a piece of that hunk of junk!!!

[icanbringyouinhot]

Take something bad and make it into something good - Chapter 1

Paring: retired!Javier Peña x F!reader

Summary: After leaving Colombia, Javier slowly but surely slides into a post-burnout depression that he tries to self-medicate with alcohol and self-imposed exile. However, his friend Steve Murphy and his wife Connie are not having it. Turns out, their endless nagging got him in a very interesting situation that turned out to be exactly what he needed. (Though, he’ll never admit they were right.)

Here’s the song that inspired me: Something Good by Paul Haig (spotify link)

Warnings: I don’t think there are that many, honestly. There’s no smut (boo-hoo, this is my first fanfic ever posted in here, I’m shy ok?..). No physical description of the reader, though I did describe her clothes because we love a well dressed diva. Vague mentions of alcohol abuse. Mentions of blood, wounds, guns, and depression because our boy is traumatized by what went down in Colombia. The reader has one small tattoo on her forearm. Let me know if I forgot anything, this is my first fanfic, idk what the hell I’m doing.

Word count: Roughly 2k.

A/N: Ok so there’s a few things, PLEASE READ: (1) As I said two times already, this is my first fanfic, I’m nervous and insecure about my writing, so please, please, please, give me any advice you have, criticism, words of encouragement, anything that could help me grow. I ain’t no pussy, you can tell me this is shit and I won’t start crying (as far as you know teehee). (2) The story the reader is talking about is my latest hyper fixation, however, i couldn’t find the source. There’s an article that says it belongs to the Chumash Tribe, but there are also other articles and reddit posts that say the otherwise. I have no idea were I know this story from, it just spawned into my smooth brain. For safety measures I chose not to associate it to any Native American tribe and let the reader’s granny take the blow, because I don’t want to offend anyone and because I am from Europe, so idk what the hell I’m talking about and it would be disrespectful to pretend that I do. (3) The art pieces and the artist that are featured in this fanfic are real (they are also present in the little collage that I’ve made, there in the middle, for visual reference)!!! But i don’t have a clue when he did his work and I was too lazy to google it so i have no idea if they existed by the time Javier Peña left Colombia (or if the art pieces ever touched the American land). Once again this fanfic was a last minute thing I didn’t put that much thought into it. (4) Once again i pulled this story from my bum bum and i don’t know if there’s a Modern Art Gallery in Houston, but I don’t care, I take my artistic liberties to invent one on the spot. (5) English is not my first language!!!!!! I tried really hard to make my sentences beautiful and clear, because sometimes in my head everything is an absolute mess. Once again, Idk what the hell I’m talking about. This fanfic is 100% the concept of raw dogging life and see where it gets you.

Okay!!!!! I think that was it. I think we are ready for our first flight together. I have to inform you that I don’t have any right, license or experience into flying the FanFic Aircraft. Too late, you can’t get off now, I shut the doors. Thank you for choosing our company to fly towards your next destination: JAVI LAND!!!! (play national anthem.)

(Also if someone knows how to add those colorful spacers on a post, I also forgot how it’s called, please send me a message and explain to me like I’m your grandma, thank you!!!!!)

Okay here we go. I’m nervous.

Chapter 2 >>

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Javier Peña had a lot of sins he had to try to pay for, but never in his life did he imagine this would be the price.

Four months. That’s how long’s been since he’d left Colombia for good, leaving behind all the bullshit he had to endure, the mistakes he made, the deaths he’d witnessed.

In all fairness, he thought that going back to the states would motivate him to rebuild his life and start anew. That was his honest to God intention. However, once back in the good ol’ Merica, he realized it no longer felt like home, not in his dad’s old house, not in his new apartment, in a different city, nowhere. He became almost a recluse, filled with rage, resentment and frustrations, never leaving his house much, except for runs to the closest liquor store or the bar down the street.

The first few weeks, Murphy gave him space to sort out his thoughts, drink himself into oblivion, chain-smoke through the night and avoid human interaction like the goddamn plague, only checking on every now and then but never pushing.

Then, they started showing up.

First it was just Murphy, with beer and bad jokes, watching football games, doing anything but talk about Colombia or feelings. Then, Connie started showing up too, with thinly vailed concern and always bringing something for him to eat, all while trying to pull words out of him with pliers. They even had their daughter have a try at him, convinced that no one could resist the innocence of a small, bright-eyed child, especially one that loved her ‘uncle Javi’ like he hung the moon just for her. Yes, Javier loved his niece and would do anything for her, but that was the one thing that he couldn’t do, mostly because he didn’t know how.

No matter how many times he tried to turn them down, they were relentless. They’d pestered, prodded, and outright bullied him into getting out of the house ­– something about fresh air, new experiences, maybe even fun, as if he had any patience for that word anymore. They started up with the occasional dinner invitation, then it was offers to take him out for drinks – somewhere nice instead of the dingy, dimly lit bar where Javi spent his weekends. He never wanted to go anywhere, but Murphy and Connie always insisted until he gave in just to shut them the hell up. Well, more Connie than Murphy, really – she was the one planning every intervention, though she’d been sweet enough not to say that word out loud.

And now… this.

This one – Oh, this one took the cake.

A fucking art gallery.

Connie got her grabby hands on some invitations from an old patient lady that actually owned the fancy Modern Art Gallery in Houston, and Murphy, as the good husband that he was, just went along with it.

But Javier Peña didn’t belong here. That much was obvious from the moment he stepped through the doors of the establishment, wearing a scowl and the same old leather jacked that had seen more blood and dust than it had high society.

The walls were lined with massive canvases – some monochrome, others smeared in chaotic swirls of color – but what stood out the most were the ones that had been slashed and punctured, riddled with holes like someone had taken a knife to them in a drunken rage.

Murphy, the bastard, was actually trying to appreciate it. He stood next to Connie, nodding along as she pointed to different pieces. Javi had no doubt Steve didn’t understand a damn thing either, but unlike Javier, he was at least pretending.

He took a long sip of his whiskey – at least the open bar made this bearable.

At one point during the night, Connie leaned in and, in a hushed, reverent tone, explained that the artist, Lucio Fontana, had created these pieces with great precision to “explore spatial concepts beyond the canvases”, emphasizing “the interplay of light, shadow and space.” He just rolled his eyes and moved further away from her in a corner, plotting his escape.

What a load of bullshit.

All he could see were stab wounds. Bullet holes. Scars carved into the fabric of the country he had spent too many years fighting in. If he looked long enough, he swore he could see blood seeping through, hear the gunshots echoing in his skull.

And maybe that said more about him than the art itself.

He exhaled, running a hand over his face. He needed another drink.

He turned to leave – and walked straight into someone.

“Shit, sorry.” He muttered taking a step back, but the woman in front of him didn’t seem bothered.

You were standing close to one of the mutilated canvases, your back straight, hands folded in front of you as you studied it. You wore a calf-length silk skirt that shimmered under the lights and a lacy top that showed just enough skin to be distracting. But what struck him the most was the way you were looking at the canvas in front of you – not with the pretentious admiration of the other guests but with quiet, genuine thoughtfulness.

You waved off his apology with a small smile before turning your gaze back to the painting – a deep navy-blue canvas punctured with what looked like a thousand tiny holes.

Javier should’ve walked away, but instead he looked at you looking at the painting, and the curiosity got the better of him.

“You actually like this shit?”

You smiled, slow and knowing, like you were expecting that reaction. “Maybe.”

Javier huffed incredulous, crossing his arms. “Really?”

You gestured to the navy punctured canvas, “It reminds me of an old story my grandmother used to tell me when I was little.”

Javier pulled his eyebrows together, puzzled. The only thing it reminded him of was the dark colored government van that got ambushed and was completely obliterated along with the agents inside. But he couldn’t say that, and before he could open up his mouth to say anything else, you already started telling your story.

“Before the humans appeared on the planet, the rocks, animals and plants lived in harmony. They were the people of the world. They lived in harmony and peace, appreciating and taking care of the nature and of one another. They woke up every morning greeting the Sun, and went to sleep waving goodbye to the Moon, thanking her for looking over them.”

Javi found himself listening despite himself, watching you as you talked, tilting you head in his direction, gaze lost, but a small smile creeping on your lips as you continued to narrate the story.

“As time passed, they started to forget. They didn’t greet the Sun anymore or show any appreciation, and the Moon was completely forgotten. They became jealous of each other, thinking others possessed more than them, greed taking over their hearts. They started to take more than they needed, either to consume or to sell away. They didn’t help each other, cooperation didn’t exist anymore. They separated more and more, arguing, hating, fighting, hurting each other.”

His eyes darted between you and the painting, his mind running a thousand miles per hour, but knew better than to try to interrupt you.

“The Creator had been watching and said ‘Enough’, throwing a blanket over the whole world. Now the world was in darkness, people frightened. Each of them tried individually to take off the blanket, but no one was able to reach that far. Desperate, they formed a council, to discuss what they should do. After endless meetings and failed attempts, a hummingbird came with a plan that demanded everyone to cooperate. The hummingbird got on top of the crow, the crow got on top of the owl, and the owl on the eagle. The idea was simple, the eagle was supposed to fly as high as he could, then when his energy ran out, the owl took over, then the crow, until finally the hummingbird got close enough to puncture the blanket with its beak. Light seeped through, and everyone got their hope back. They started working together until they punctured enough holes in the blanket for them to have light and warmth again. The animals that couldn’t fly helped from the ground, preparing water, food and shelter for everyone. The Creator was so pleased to see that the people were living again in harmony that he lifted off the blanket, and the people never took what they had for granted anymore.” You seemed to finish your story the moment your eyes were focused on again, this time shifting your gaze towards Javier. His face was an amalgamation of emotions – confusion, admiration, concentration. “Anyway, it’s said that after they lived again in harmony and peace for many, many years, the people started to forget again.” You added with a shrug, this time with a knowing look into your eyes.

Javier looked at the canvas again. He still saw violence – still saw the wounds, the tearing, the things he couldn’t erase from his mind. But for the first time, he also saw what you did. Something else. Hopeful.

“You got all that from a couple stab marks on a painting?

You turned to him fully, amusement flickering in your eyes. “Art is what you make of it.”

Javier tilted his head, watching you. “So, what do you make of that one?” he said pointing to a different canvas – one with a long, deep cut right in the middle of it, like a wound.

You studied it for a moment, pursing your lips, then said, “Loneliness.”

“Loneliness?”

“Yes, the loneliness we all feel sometimes, almost like a wound right in the middle.” You said tracing absentmindedly a finger over your chest. “Separation. The way we carve ourselves apart from others, whether by choice or by force.”

Javier’s smirk faded slightly. He wasn’t used to conversations like this. Usually, when he talked to women, it was all surface-level-flirting, small talk, nothing deeper than what was necessary. But this? This was different.

If your words affected him, he didn’t let it show, but truth be told, a bitch slap would’ve stung him less than this.

He scoffed giving a skeptical look, “Alright smartass, and that one?” he pointed to another, where multiple slashes ran parallel, like scars.

After another pause for consideration, you said, “Community. We crave connection, we need it. No one survives alone. Even if we are wounded, we heal better when we are surrounded by others. Pain shared is pain halved.”

He almost wanted to ask if you knew Steve and Connie and if they put you up to this, but something in your expression made him reconsider, because when you spoke, when you came up with these awful, soul barring interpretations, you seemed lost in thoughts for a second.

“Where do you come up with this stuff?”

You grinned, “Pulled it out of my ass, mostly.”

He barked out a laugh, “Figures.”

You leaned in slightly, voice conspiratorial, “Truth is, I think this whole thing is bullshit.”

Now that was something he could get behind. “Then how the hell does a smart woman like you end up stuck at an art gallery she doesn’t even like?”

“My grandmother owns the gallery.”

Javier blinked. “Shit.”

You smiled slyly, “Yeah, so don’t tell her I said that.”

“No promises.” He said, “I’m Javier, by the way.” he added, and you shook his hand telling him your own name.

After a beat, you cleared the air, “The only one I’ve actually meant was the first one. The story kind of stuck with me.” You said as you rotated your forearm, letting him see the tiny hummingbird tattoo you had, so small, fragile and beautiful. He wanted to kiss it, honestly,

“So, you really believe in that?” he asked with his characteristic smile plastered on his face.

You glanced at him. ‘Believe in what? That the sky is a blanket and the stars are holes?” you asked amused.

Javier shrugged, “I mean, the whole idea. That there’s a way out, that people could actually find a way to fix their world at some point.” He explained his question, because it sure like hell never felt like that when he tried to lift the proverbial blanket that the cartels threw over Colombia.

You smiled, but there was something wistful in it. “I think stories like that exist because people need them to. To make sense of things, to find hope. The world’s a little less lonely when you see that there are others with the same way of thinking. Maybe if more people knew the story and they’d believe in it, things would change too.”

Javi studied you. You weren’t like the rest of the people here – weren’t fawning over the art just to seem cultured, weren’t talking in circles to sound impressive. You were just… real.

And that was a dangerous thing for him to be around.

You two stood there, quiet for a moment, the hum of conversation and clinking glasses filling the space between you. It should have been awkward, but it wasn’t.

Javi wasn’t sure when was the last time he’d met someone who actually entertained him, let alone someone who made him forget the shitstorm in his head. You had that way of carrying yourself – calm, amused, like the world was something to be studied but never taken too seriously.

“So, what about you?” you said after a moment, “If you hate this so much, why are you here?”

Javier sighed, glancing across the room where Steve was balancing a glass of wine while his wife animatedly discussed another piece. “Some friends dragged me.” He muttered.

You nodded in consideration, then looked around for your own dear grandmother. She was way over her head discussing with a circle of quests just like she did the whole night. Aside from knowing that you came, she didn’t get the chance to check in on you or chat at any point during the event, and you took a wild guess that it wouldn’t be happening anytime soon either.

You grinned, tilting your head slightly. “Tell you what – I’ll make you a deal.”

Javier arched a brow. “Yeah?”

You leaned in, lowering your voice. “There’s a bar two blocks from here. No abstract art, no bullshit. Just whiskey and decent company. Maybe some food too. You in?”

Javier hadn’t expected the night to be anything other than a painful endurance test, something he did mostly for his friends than for himself. He sure hadn’t expected to meet someone like you. And for the first time in a long time, he thought – why the hell not?

His lips curved into a genuine smile – he couldn’t remember when was the last time he smiled as much as he did ever since he started talking to you.

“Hell yeah, lead the way.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

[moxanji-real]

I just wanna say thank you.

When I made my last post, I was genuinely terrified. I was shaking, panicking, and fully convinced I was going to get hate for opening up. But what I got instead was love. Support. Reassurance. And it honestly made me feel so much better about everything.

So… I decided to be brave again.

I want to reveal the two other men I fell in love with

Leorio Paradinight (Hunter x Hunter)

Leorio is a character I’ve loved since I was 14 years old. Back then, I even had a self insert I shipped with him, but when I stopped watching Hunter x Hunter, I kind of drifted away from it—and him.

But the second I started watching it again? The moment I heard his voice? I fell right back in love.

He’s loud, dramatic, and tries so hard to act cool—but he’s all heart. He wants to save people. He wants to protect others. He gets emotional and flustered and yells when he cares too much, and I adore that about him. He’s real. He’s raw. He’s one of the most genuine characters I’ve ever seen.

And honestly? He gives me major Sanji vibes. Same body type. Same suit. Same dramatic screaming fits. Same huge heart. You already know I was doomed.

Now, meet Jolie—my self insert who is completely, hopelessly, ridiculously in love with him.

Art by PS7K0Yje on crepe

Jolie is silly, immature, and a total weirdo in the best way. She acts all cute and innocent, but she’s secretly chaotic and super embarrassing without even meaning to be. She draws Leorio constantly, idolizes him like he’s the coolest person on Earth, and she genuinely thinks he’s the smartest, strongest, most perfect man alive.

She also loves making him mad, just because she thinks he looks hot when he yells. She’s the type to go, “Oopsie, did I say something dumb again?” just to see him lose it—and she lives for it. And Leorio? He pretends to be annoyed, but he’s obsessed. He finds her hilarious, endearing, and unlike anyone he’s ever met.

They have such a fun, goofy, sweet relationship. They’re like a chaotic little cartoon couple with big feelings. 🥹💞

Art by JOGONG on crepe

————————————————————————-

Goemon Ishikawa XIII (Lupin the Third)

I’ve only been in love with Goemon for a few months, but it was instant and intense. It was the fastest I’ve ever fallen for a character.

The moment I saw him blush? That was it. He had me. Heart stolen.

Since then, I’ve watched everything he’s in—all the specials, all the movies, everything. I’ve loved watching him grow and change over 50 years of Lupin the Third. Every version of him—every awkward, intense, oddly romantic version—is still him. And I love every single one.

He’s stoic, calm, and deadly… but also awkward, dramatic, and completely out of touch with modern life. And it’s the contrast that gets me. He’s strong, but he gets flustered. He’s focused, but he’s also emotional in his own quiet way. Every tiny reaction from him means something.

Now meet Eris, my self insert and the woman who absolutely wrecked this poor samurai’s quiet little world.

Art by.. me lmao

Eris is a bold, dramatic, flirtatious former popstar turned phantom thief. She’s elegant, powerful, a total diva on the outside—but inside, she’s messy, emotional, and deeply romantic. She’s all glitter and chaos, all heart and heartbreak. And when she loves, she loves hard.

She loves getting Goemon flustered. She flirts shamelessly, calls him handsome, teases him constantly—and he never knows what to do with himself. But somehow, he never walks away.

They’re opposites: the drama queen and the quiet swordsman. She’s expressive, chaotic, and always talking. He’s stoic, grounded, and silent most of the time. But somehow, they balance each other out. She pulls emotion out of him, and he gives her the calm and stability she craves.

They don’t need to say much. They just feel. Deeply. And honestly? They’re perfect.

Art by Oak1044 on crepe

Now, just to clarify something important—

I view each of these relationships completely separately. These are not One Piece characters, and this isn’t a crossover situation. I use a different self insert for every F/O because each one means something different to me, and I want to honor their individual dynamics. And yes the self inserts are just ocs I kin. That’s why they look so different. Character design is one of my passions. 🥹💕

Sanji, Leorio, and Goemon are serious F/Os for me—and also my IRL romantic partners. I know that sounds intense, but it’s the truth. They bring me so much comfort, love, and emotional support. I am also non sharing with all three of them—so I do ask that those boundaries be respected. I am more lenient with Sanji because I know he’s a very popular f/o but with these other two men? Please DNI if you selfship with them. Thank youuuu!

These self ships mean so much to me. They’ve helped me through dark moments, made me feel creative again, and honestly just made me feel happy. I love them so much more than mere words can say >:’{💞

So thank you again—for the support, for the kindness, for letting me feel safe being myself.

And thank you for letting me share the men I love. 🫶🏻🩷

Now take Goemon sneezing because he’s a baby boy and I love him so much shshhshs

[kiddcarnage]

Little acd holmes doodles. I'm currently on The Noble Bachelor and Sherlock has been a little diva it's so funny. (These doodles arent super specific moments, just random chicken scratch)

- A little ramble but I've found so much joy in the short stories! I'm working on some scary college stuff rn and as of today I have entered my senior year. It's scary and stressful especially since I won't be graduating with my fellow classmates (I'll be done a bit early and have decided not to walk since I attend college out of state, on top of that I'm leaving the country in January so I'll have to say goodbye to all my friends and professors in November) but I'm also terribly excited. Being able to listen to The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes while I work on my pitch has been super relaxing and make even the worst parts of the process (coloring and me do not get along) that much more enjoyable. I'm so happy to be reading again, and the fella who narrates all the stories I listen to on YouTube is absolutely fantastic. Okay rant over love yall heehee okay bye