#and i love categorize them by colors ❤️

[beyourownanchor6]

—duck!buck ✨christmas edition✨ is here! thank you to everyone who loves my silly little jeep ducking shenanigans. wishing y’all a merry ducking christmas 💚❤️

rated: t | words: 18.6k | read on ao3

summary:

“Ok, so I have them all categorized. Do you want them by year, color, or season?”

Eddie’s eyes widened with a bit of fear. What the hell had Athena gotten him into?

“Um, how about you tell me about your ducks first…what kind are they?”

Buck deadpanned. “Rubber.”

Eddie shook his head, trying to hide his surprise as he pulled out of the parking lot.

Buck let out a cackle, startling Eddie a little.

“You didn’t think I was talking about live duck’s did you?”

Buck said it like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world, as if any of their conversation had been semi normal.

“No, I guess I’m just—confused is all,” was what Eddie settled with. Buck shook his head as he tapped at his clipboard.

“You’ve never heard of Jeep ducking?”

Eddie shook his head as he turned on his blinker. “Can’t say that I have.”

—or—

The 1 time Buck gets held at gunpoint and robbed of his ducks, and the 6 times Eddie replaces them. Eddie’s a cop, bucks a firefighter, there’s rubber ducks, what more can I say?

tagging squad:

@loserdiaz @redlightsandicedtea @loveyourownsmiilee @monsterrae1 @buddierights @swiftiebuckleyhan @honestlydarkprincess @barbiediaz @spotsandsocks @justsmilestuffhappens @santadiazz @djdangerlove @eddiebabygirldiaz @elvensorceress @jacksadventuresinwriting @stanningsky @wh0re-behavi0r @ronordmann @spaceprincessem @arthursdent @disasterbuckdiaz @giddyupbuck @wildlife4life @betty-boom @hippolotamus @thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @underwater-ninja-13 @pirrusstuff @nmcggg @theotherbuckley @louis-tenn @the-gayest-wug @buckley-diaz-rules @muppetbuddie @gamer-kai @blorbodiaz @heartshapedvows @trashbaget @steadfastsaturnsrings @buckbuckgoose @wikiangela @hobbitnarwhal @shortsighted-owl @pirrusstuff @goldencherrymooon @murder-trio @daffi-990 @greenfairrryy @mattsire

[where-dreamers-go]

I love your Dbh Connor writing 😍 can you please write something (if you'd like) in his pov of him realizing he *feels* for the reader, though he'd likely not know what that entails and what to call it. Just something introspective exploring his inner logic when it comes to his newfound deviancy? Thanks so much ❤️ I hope life treats you well!

“Feelings And Deviancy” Rk800 Connor x Reader

(A/N: Awh! I’m glad you’re enjoying them. Here’s a little something where Connor finds himself in a new routine with feelings he can’t pinpoint just yet. Warnings: Use of (Y/N) for your name. Word Count: 1,072 words)

Detroit held much to be discovered, especially when living was a new concept.

No more demonstrations or frantic humans in the streets.

It was almost quieter.

Connor took up walking to explore the city upon his deviancy. To rediscover the world.

Androids and humans were coexisting again. Nothing was perfect. Never was.

On one of his walking routes he had noticed a change. More life in a small bookstore beside an always popular coffee shop. The display window no longer appeared as a physical advertisement or thumbnail. No longer the attention-seeking images. Lined, stacked, and decorated with air plants were books. Physical books. Yes, there were always tablets for sale, but the display was not leveled. Nothing about it was symmetrical.

He was compelled to enter.

That was two months and two days ago.

Blinking, Connor found himself there again. The colorful bookshop in the shadow of quick service caffeine. He stood in front of the display. New books had been added, angled to show their spines, designed in detail to allude to the story’s tone.

Spying movement from inside, Connor moved to open the door and entered.

Familiar bookcases remained in their usual placements. Each shelf neatly arranged with books categorized by genre, author, and title. The usual.

I wouldn’t expect anything less.

Connor urged himself to search by sight and not scan. To take his time was a skill in need of practicing.

Light display flickering to yellow, he stepped further into the shop. He wasn’t alone inside. Towards the back, a couple of older individuals could be heard in hushed tones. They were regulars, almost every Friday.

He’s probably holding a stack of books for her again.

Connor found himself doing the same; visiting every Wednesday and Friday. Creating another routine.

What interest could a deviated android have in a bookshop?

Connor pondered on that question each day. Every time he would picture you instead of a simple answer. A connection to books, stories, and knowledge. The person responsible for decorating the shop’s window.

He found a particular interest in you, one of the shop’s employees. It started the first day you greeted him with your friendly smile and had yet to be stored away.

“Connor, hi.” Stepping around a table display, you waved to him while balancing three volumes in your other hand.

“Hello (Y/N).” He smiled, feeling something akin to happiness.

“How are you?”

Opening his mouth, ready to respond, Connor said nothing.

What was a truthful answer?

Connor sure wanted to know.

I am functioning properly, Connor thought. I’m not feeling any negative emotions. But they don’t want to hear that.

“I’m well.” He answered. “Thank you for asking.”

“No problem. I’m glad you’re well.”

At your smile, Connor took notice of his thirium pump increasing its speed. Something he was trying to look into over the past few weeks.

“How are you? Do you need help with anything?”

You laughed lightly and shook your head. “I’m pretty good.” Stepping over to the main counter, you added, “I can handle a few books. Just double checking these are in shelves too. Someone’s doing a pickup later. But thank you for asking. Again.” You sent him a teasing smile.

“Oh.” Connor stood still beside the counter, eyes downcast.

Embarrassment, he knew that emotion. Connor knew how it felt and it wasn’t his favorite. Feeling it while around you made him want to reset his system.

Do I ask to help them every time I’m here? Connor thought back to previous encounters and his embarrassment grew. I’m being polite. He urged himself to be more neutral with the fact of him wanting to help you.

Why wouldn’t he want to help you?

You were kind, had a good work ethic, and you made time to talk with him.

Connor appreciated you.

He appreciated other too, but he didn’t find himself trying to consistently learn their interests. That happened when he was with you, asking you handfuls of questions.

The more Connor learned about you, the more he could talk to you. Information one could not find online or in databases. Time one could not simulate.

“So what brings you here today, mister questions?” You inquired as you walked around the counter. Pulling out a tote bag, you placed the books inside one by one.

The corners of Connor’s lips lifted. A jolt of something registered through him. Not physical. An emotion that made him want to remain standing in your presence and perhaps hear you give him another nickname.

“I was wondering…”

You hummed shortly, letting him know you were listening.

“If there was a book you think I should read.”

Your eyes lit up in joyous surprise. “A million times yes.” You rushed out from around the counter and headed between a row of bookshelves.

Connor followed after you without hesitation.

“I don’t think I can just pick one,” you stated with two books in hand already. “So you have some options.”

“That’s great. Thank you.”

You sent him a smile over your shoulder. Then you resumed scanning the shelves, not wanting to miss a book you had in mind for him.

Knowing you already had options for him made Connor smile endlessly.

You thought of him.

They’re thorough. Connor thought as he got lost in watching you search.

Connor had never been around someone who he felt such a variety of emotions for. Deviancy hadn’t lasted long enough for him to name them all.

How could he?

The situation and environments he found himself in was calm and new. Full of books, unique displays, and people going about their business. Seeing you had become a constant. Something he could count on even if each time would be different, lively.

Connor did not have anything in his past to compare his present to.

If I had more context, he thought, I could figure out what I should be doing. I like their company. I know that, but big deal. That doesn’t tell me what to do about besides visiting them twice a week. But…I do like being with them.

Slightly frustrated with himself, he made sure to keep it to himself.

So, Connor remained standing, keeping you company during your shift, and making you laugh. Soon three books purchased and all his own.

What would come from him having feelings for you?

Connor hoped he would find out in his new way in life.

~~~

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful. coffee

Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~~~

DreamerDragon Tags: @cubedtriangle

Detroit Become Human Tags: @shewhobreathesfire @

**Let me know if you would like to be tagged in insert readers, either through replies, ask, or message.**

[verbenaa]

questions 11, 14, 16, and/or 30 for rin and astarion? 🥺

🥹 thank you soooo much for sending this in!!! I'm so happy and excited to answerrrr ❤️

11. Do either try to hide their emotions if upset? Can the other still tell?

I think Astarion definitely attempts to hide his emotions as he doesn't like to be seen as weak, but I also think that as time progresses he opens up a bit more when he is able to trust and feels safe. Rin can definitely always tell because Astarion and subtle are not two words I associate together 😅.

Rin also attempts to hide hers, but its 50/50 on whether she tries to brush it off (but is obviously annoyed) or start an argument 😤. Astarion can tell either way because she doesn't care to be subtle (unless she's trying to get something she wants, of course.)

14. How do each of their personalities compliment each other? How do they clash?

Fun question! I think their personalities compliment each other in a variety of ways! Rin isn't terrible judgmental, is decently permissive, and in general isn't too bothered by things like Astarion's prickliness or his mean streak. They're both a little snappy and gossipy, so they can enjoy their time together easily and neither is offended by the other. It's not hard for them to orbit each other because there's an ease there, an understanding.

However, they each have impulsivities that absolutely agitate the other, and I think that this is where they can clash a little bit in regards to decision-making. Rin also categorically dislikes Astarion's hunt for power, which is something that hasn't come up quite yet in the story but will later obviously. She wants to be free on her own terms and not under the thumb of anyone or anything else, and sees things like power as just another way to be controlled.

16. Can they stay up all night just talking?

Yes! They spend a lot of time just talking together at camp and this is something that flows into their life post-game as well. Even if it's just petty gossiping all evening, they have no problem talking about whatever with each other.

30. Your OTP gets to pick out each other's outfits; what is each wearing?

Astarion is quick to say OUT with the oversized tunics and plain pants and IN with something lushly textured and deep in color, maybe in a lovely green to match her eyes. He comes across a beautiful deep green satin dress--low backed and high slitted, the fabric flowing with ease and sheen luminescent in the candlelight and Astarion's quite proud of himself at the find. His hands can't keep away from the bits of exposed skin, her blush at every touch far too enticing. He doesn't see her in dresses that often but he thinks he should try to be more convincing if this is to be the reward.

Rin picks out something blue for him, she thinks he looks terribly good in the color and flatters him greatly, after all. Perhaps a lovely velvet blue doublet with elegant silver embroidery and polished buttons up the front, tailored shirt underneath open low so she can catch little glimpses of the necklace she bought for him (along with his chest but shh he can't know that she's sneaking peeks, he'd never let her live it down.)(he definitely knows. and definitely allows it.)

[bi-writes]

hi hello I'm doing my part to offset anon trolls and hate with love and appreciation so here's some of my unfiltered thoughts about you and your writing!!!

I have adhd and autism, so my brain categorizes people with...no real criteria beyond vibes. you and your writing are in the same category as peachesofteal and groguspicklejar for me because you all give off the same vibes as Hozier with how you write and how you string realism and hyperbole together and it's truly beautiful

speaking of your realism, I absolutely adore all of your reader characters. I was the anon who messaged you about how I could see myself in the Dichotomy reader, and since then I've kinda binged your masterlist, and I can now say that I definitely am able to relate to each and every reader insert you write about because you make them so tangible and real even tho they don't even have a proper name outside of our imaginations

also, you're fucking hilarious lmao. some of the asks I've seen you answer have me giggling at 3am while I'm at work (night shift) and it's a fun pick me up, especially after I've written angst. you remind me a lot of soaps-mohawk in that way, especially when people are asking you to kinda spoil your own fics lmao

and finally, if I were to assign you a "color" (hello adhd sorting) it would be pastel blue. you write a lot of angst, but you're also able to balance the good and the bad in a way that feels like melancholy but on an upswing. blue is a sad color, and bad things always stay with you, but eventually the darkness fades away and light begins to brighten your soul again. Your writing feels like the ending of bad times, the final stretch until happiness and joy can finally be fully present in our lives instead of as just stolen bits and pieces that we have to hide.

💖💗💓❣️❤️🩷🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🤎💫💫💫✨️✨️✨️💍💍💍😘

oh my god, anon...you are the sweetest, most wonderful person ever but i think you have me confused with the most lovely ever @rememberwren.

@rememberwren this is your love letter from an anon in my inbox.

[ezraspiderwick]

Red Glimpses Ch. 2

In a world where soulmates are believed to be extinct, Reader has a podcast following her journey in trying to find her perfect match. Marcus loves listening to it because it gives him hope that one day he’ll find his…

Marcus Pike x F!Reader

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: soulmate au, changing pov (Marcus/Reader), slow burn

A/N: Thanks to the wonderful @nothoughtsjustmeds for beta reading! And thanks to everyone for giving so much love to chapter 1, this adventure is just starting 😌❤️

MASTERLIST / SERIES MASTERLIST

.

The thief had done exactly as Rowand and Marcus expected him to. He led them straight to the buyer and to the warehouse they hoped all the missing artwork was in. Once there it had been only a matter of waiting for backup to go in. Numerous art pieces had been retrieved and were going to be rightfully returned to the museums they belonged in all over the world after being categorized. Marcus’ job is done. But for the first time since he became an FBI agent, he doesn’t feel as proud and happy with the accomplishment, and this is probably the biggest of his career. If anything he feels anxiety and frustration blooming in his chest, unlike anything he had ever felt before. 

He's assigned another case but there's no room for work in his mind, not when his soulmate is out there. Not when all he has been able to focus on since he last saw you were your eyes. Their color had become his favorite color, yet he couldn't find it anywhere but in his memory, in real life, the shades were never quite right.

“I’ll call you.”

He cringes at the memory. He is an FBI agent for god’s sake, he was trained to think under pressure. He should have asked for your name or given you his. Anything to help him find you. But looking at you and at the glimpses of red wrapped around your finger, his mind had gone blank. He reaches for his pocket to take out his phone but his hand bumps into something else and takes out your phone.

Your phone.

He completely forgot he had kept it. He sends a silent prayer to anyone who is listening before trying to turn it on, to no avail. 

He takes a deep breath. This is no time to feel overwhelmed, he needs to think of solutions. And for that he has to be rational, emotions kept at bay. 

The conclusion he reaches is that he could use some help. So he takes the phone downstairs to Lexa, the woman who is in charge of techs hoping she can work some magic in it and bring it back to life.

Lexa starts examining the phone as Marcus recounts the story of what happened to it. She doesn't seem to believe him but nods along anyway. “I may be able to fix it but it’s going to take a while, Pike.”

A glimmer of hope. 

His heart leaps at the now real possibility of seeing you again.

“That’s okay, thank you.” Marcus turns around and starts walking away from the office when his coworker calls behind him. 

“You’re buying lunch once I fix it.”

.

He sits down at his desk, fidgeting with a pencil and wondering if he could pull some strings and get video from security cameras nearby, or perhaps get the sketch artist to draw you and search the image on the FBI database, which hopefully you’re not in, but he’s running out of ideas. There's so much he could do but with it not being a real case he would need to ask for permission to use the FBI's resources on it. A tenth of the budget had been slashed last year, and as a result of that, the way each agent spent money and resources had to be closely monitored. 

His mother's words echo in his mind. 

It has become impossible for people to find their soulmates . 

Maybe his mom is right. Maybe he's putting too much mental energy into this. He doesn't even know if what he saw was a trick of the morning light. It could have been anything, it would make sense for it to be anything else but the red string. 

Still, he needs to talk to you and discover the truth, and for that, he needs to find you. He turns on his computer ready to do some research when a notification from earlier today of a new Red String podcast pops up. There isn’t supposed to be a new episode today, it’s three days too early. Curiosity gets the better of him and he clicks on it, only to be redirected to a page that says “Sorry this does not exist.” The most likely reason for this is someone made an error and uploaded the podcast on the wrong day and upon noticing their mistake it was deleted. 

But perhaps someone managed to download it before it was deleted, out of all days, today he needs your optimism about soulmates. So he searches the web.

To say he’s shocked by the numerous articles that pop up would be an understatement. As he opens Twitter he notices it’s trending, and everyone is tweeting either the news or their reaction to the news. The whole internet is talking about one thing and one thing only: Red found her soulmate.

Apparently, she had told the news during a live podcast that had since been deleted from all official platforms. However, when it comes to the internet once something is uploaded, it will remain there forever. All it takes for Marcus is a simple search and results start popping up left and right. 

PR stunt or real soulmates?

Red needs our help!

Is she stringing us along? Red says she’s found the One!

You’ll never believe who Red’s soulmate is… Click the link to see the pic!

The Red String search is over 

There are hundreds of reuploads of the original podcast, and he clicks on the first result, his attention dragged away by the drama. Red’s familiar voice comes through the speakers, but it sounds different this time, speaking fast as if she fears someone would stop her at any moment. She starts by saying that she couldn’t get his name and asks for the listeners’ help to locate him.

She met her soulmate today and so did he. Perhaps there was something special to this summer’s day. 

As Red recounts the story, the podcast is relegated to the background as Marcus turns to his own search for answers. It’s not until she mentions the spilled iced coffee that he stops typing and turns his full attention to Red. He rewinds to the beginning and a shiver goes through him as she recounts the meeting. THEIR meeting. 

Red saw the glimpses of red too.

Red is you .

Before you finish the story, Marcus’s already jumping into the DMs of every single social platform you’re in. He writes and rewrites a message until he’s left with a perfect retelling of the meeting, with details only he would be privy to. 

He rubs his face with his hands, while he feels the beating of his racing heart in every part of his body. He hopes this is enough. He needs this to be enough.

He sends it and waits for a response.

/

/

/

How naive of you to think this would be like the fairytales you were told as a child. There is no happily ever after that comes as easy in real life as it does in stories. If this was a fictional tale, your soulmate would send you a DM and the whole process would be magical. In real life, there were thousands of DMs flooding all your social media. People claiming to be him, others asking for advice on how to find their soulmates, and some calling this entire thing bullshit. There was no way you could get through all of them, not alone.

Your phone rings. Camila has been insistently calling for the last ten minutes but you don’t answer. You know what she is going to say and you don’t care to hear it. Your phone is put on silent as you lay on your bed trying to find a solution for the mess you now find yourself in. Perhaps you could ask some friends to help you go through the messages? But that would mean revealing that you're Red, and you're not sure that's something you're ready for.

After about fifteen minutes of thinking, your doorbell is ringing. Peeping through the cameras you find Camila waiting outside, her arms crossed and looking like she came in a rush, her hair disheveled and her clothes not matching like they usually would. You don’t want to open the door but how worse can this get? You open the door to be faced with a woman who is barely keeping her anger contained. Before you say anything she is already inside your house and pacing around your living room. 

“Why would you say that, Red?” she gives you a cold stare. “Do you know how many people will stop listening now that you told them you found your soulmate?” She lets herself fall on your couch with a heavy sigh. “Who are we kidding? The damage is done. All that's left is to go with this little fantasy of yours. We’ll figure something out and make this work in our favor.”

“It’s not an invention, Camila. It’s real. I finally met him.”

“So you say, honey, but do you really think soulmates can exist?” Her condescending tone makes anger bubble inside you. “It’s naive to think that." She shakes her head and laughs. "But I guess that exact naivety is what makes you charming. We’ll solve this, just let me handle this.”

You sit next to her, hands folded neatly in your lap to keep you from fidgeting. 

“He’s out there, Camila, and he’s looking for me.”

“How do you know that, darling?”

“Because I’m looking for him ." People in the past, including your grandma, used to say that once your connection with your soulmate increases you'll eventually be able to sense some of the emotions they're feeling. Whatever connection you have with your perfect stranger is extremely weak still, but you can feel some intense feelings from him. You're not able to pinpoint which ones but you know he's searching for you too. "And finding each other is what soulmates do.”

She stops dead in her tracks and it’s as though something changes because the next second she’s smiling. “Okay, darling, I have an idea, we’ll find this man.” The sudden emotional change unnerves you. But the rational part of you screams that this is exactly what you want, with Camila on your side, this will be a lot easier. “After all, your followers deserve to continue with you on this journey, don’t you think? They have been with you during the search, you are even asking for their help, you need to give them the ending. Show them that all of this was worth it.”

As much as you hate admitting that Camila is right, it makes sense. You do owe your listeners, they have been loyal for a long time, and they have the right to see how this ends. And you will give that to them but not right now. This is something that you want to be just yours and his at least for a little bit.

“Okay, you can help me but when I see him again it’s just going to be the two of us. Alone,” you remark before she has a chance to say anything else. “I’ll tell my followers about it in the next podcast, but I’m not sure I want to ever reveal my identity or his. If I did, the possibility of having a normal life would be gone forever.”

“Of course, darling, don’t worry,” she assures you. “Just tell me what he looks like, and any other details you remember and I’ll call you as soon as I know something.”

/

/

/

It’s early in the morning, the team is having a briefing on the latest art robbery that has happened in the city when Marcus’ phone rings. He takes it out of his pocket and upon seeing it’s an unknown number he excuses himself in order to go outside and answer it. His heart is doing somersaults in his chest at the possibility of you being on the other side of the line. He presses the green button and holding his breath he takes the phone to his ear. 

“Hello, is this Marcus Pike?” It’s not your voice.

“Yes,” he masks his disappointment with neutrality. “Who am I speaking with?”

“I’m Camila Burbano, Red’s agent.” At the mention of your name, he perks up. “I am calling to ask for details about the message you left on Miss Red’s Instagram. Can you tell me more about your meeting so I can confirm whether the details match with what she has told me?"

Although she cannot see it through the phone Marcus nods eagerly. He goes on to describe what you look like, the clothes you were wearing, and the type of phone you had. His job has trained him to have an eye for detail so he has an easy time recalling this information. 

Camila hums on the other side of the line. “Lastly, can you send a picture of yourself to this number so Miss Red is able to confirm if it’s you or not?”

He does as he is told. His fingers shaking and his heart going a thousand miles per hour at the possibility of meeting you again. “I’m sending your picture to her. Hold the line, please.” 

Marcus’ anxiety grows with each passing second. What if she says it isn’t him? What if he said something wrong about their meeting? Had she been wearing a turquoise or a green top? What if-  

“She says it’s you.” Camila's words stop his racing mind. A wide smile appears on his face, those cute dimples showing up

He found her. And she found him. They are going to have their happy ending. The wait would be worth it, love is going to win. 

“But before you meet her, there’s something else," Camila pauses briefly as if she doesn't want to deliver the following words, "she wants to live stream the meeting if that’s alright with you. I know it might be a bit too much… but Red wants to do it for her followers, so they don’t lose hope that one day they too can have your luck and find their perfect person.”

Marcus doesn’t need to be asked twice. “Of course, whatever she wants.”

“Great, I’ll send you some papers for you to sign just for legal reasons, and then I’ll text you the place and the time for your meeting.”

When the document arrives later that evening, he quickly scans over the words, something about filming your whole love story. If this is what Red wants he’ll sign it, whatever it takes to see her again. 

Once he sends back the papers, Camila texts him that he needs to be in the place where you first met, tomorrow, and that you'll meet him there. Additionally, they are going to be sending him some outfits that will match Red’s so you two will look amazing together. Marcus isn’t too sure about putting on such a show, he’d love nothing more than to meet you as you truly are and show you his authentic self. But he also knows that he’d move heaven and Earth for you. If you want to broadcast your meeting and you want it to look perfect, then he’ll do whatever he has to to make you happy. 

/

/

/

You’re meeting your soulmate today. 

Despite your initial wariness and distrust, Camila had come through and found him for you. Your soulmate is Marcus Pike, an FBI agent working in the Art Crimes division. 

You are so happy that you don’t even care when Camila comes in with outfits you’d never actually pick for yourself, arguing you had to look good. After all, you were gonna want to have pictures you could show your followers if you decided you wanted to show them your face. Her words make sense, so you change into one of the outfits, and at your agent’s insistence, you get your hair done by a professional. When it’s done you look in the mirror, the person staring back looks like you but isn’t quite you. Before you can overthink it any further Camila is behind you, her usual big smile plastered all over her face. 

“You look beautiful, darling, Marcus is one lucky guy.” She hugs you. Well, if you can count her approaching you and surrounding you with her arms without actually touching you a hug . “Now smile, because today is your big day.”

Camila offers to drive you there, and with you being a mix of nervousness and excitement, it seems wise to accept her offer. As you travel through the city, people continue to live their lives not knowing that the possibility of soulmates is about to come back after being gone for two decades. Your meeting with Marcus has the possibility to change not only your life but the whole world. There is a lot of pressure for this to go well.

Sweat has accumulated on your hands and you sneakily wipe it away on the side of your clothes. The song that the radio is playing says something about finding the one you’re looking for, very fitting. Camila parks in front of the coffee shop, and standing in front of it, looking at his watch, is Marcus. He’s dressed in a completely different style than the last time you saw him, perhaps this is how he dresses when he’s not working. There’s so much you can’t wait to find out about him. You feel a pull to him and as you exit the car you don’t stop to wonder if it’s something soulmate-related or your own excitement. 

The second his eyes spot you walking towards him, he gifts you the brightest and cutest smile. You can’t help but walk to him a little faster, and he mirrors your actions closing the space between you with swiftness. When you arrive in front of each other, not only can you see the red thread going from your finger to his, it’s definitely there this time, as if someone had tied a piece of yarn between you, but you can also feel its presence around your pinky finger, a slight tug that pulls you to him. He takes your hand in his and looks at it, tears filling his eyes.

“It’s real,” he whispers, and you nod pressing your forehead against his. You stay like that, listening to each other’s breathing for what feels both like a couple of seconds and an eternity at the same time. “I’m so glad I found you, Red.”

“Me, too.” 

As you open your eyes you notice a small mic clipped to his shirt and take half a step back, your hands still linked together. “What’s that?” you ask, trying to make sense of what is happening.

“It was Camila’s idea so everything is recorded just like you wanted.” A shadow settles on your face for a brief second as you process his words. But then a man who had been standing behind a car, approaches holding a camera and you carefully mask your expression with what you hope looks like a real smile. 

“Anything you want to say to the one million people who are watching live?” the man asks. Your mouth feels dry, you need to get some water. You look at Marcus who seems to sense your uneasiness, and squeezes your hand.

“We did it, we found him.”

[pocket-ozwynn]

How did you come up with Freyja’s Kaiju form? A buff pikachu with scales hehehee 🥺

Absolutely screaming and this description 😂😭

(also I swear if this stupid post gets accidentally deleted while I type it one more time, I’m going to lose my mind)

BUT to answer your question properly, it definitely was a bit of a process! Going into Kaiju!AU & Genesis Day I had a rough idea of certain things I wanted before commissioning the wonderful @herebegiants (who, let me just say, was AMAZINGLY patient with some of my indecisiveness at times and a wonderful partner and support through this process) but I think it ultimately boiled down to the following four points: retain the color palette from GTU, give her lightning powers, invoke Godzilla imagery, retain her Humanity. 

Also you asked for an Essay, so check out the explanation to those answers (plus some art!) below the break. ❤️💙

1. Retain the color palette from GTU:

Color is something that’s very important to me in character design. There is so much symbolism that can come from the inclusion and saturation of certain colors in a palette. And while I had fussed about with her original GTU/University!AU color scheme, I ultimately wanted to retain the same cherry red and aqua blue, while having it off-set by the black and white and keeping her brilliant green eyes. Herebegiants played around with a few combinations of the colors in different placements and gradients, and ultimately I fell in love with her current colors. The blonde tragically did have to get replaced, but I think it helped to saturate the more “natural” colors of a human in favor of the most alien and unique colors that a Kaiju would have to offer.

Also a +100ft monster lady with glowing green eyes is just *chef’s kiss*.

(credit to @herebegiants)

2. Give her lightning powers:

Like color palettes, a character’s unique powers really help set them apart. Now of course Freyja didn’t have lightning powers in any AU by this point, but any of my friends can tell you that I’ve always likened Freyja unto a summer thunderstorm. Particular in places like Oklahoma and South Carolina (two places where I’ve lived), you would get humid thunderstorms with powerful roars of lightning and brilliant rivers of lightning (accompanied by torrents of rain and wind as well). 

And Freyja is very much like that. She is a POWERFUL character in both physique and personality. But that isn’t to say she’s destructive. She just typifies that raw, loud energy but also has gentleness of rain that helps the fields grow and flourish and winds that help the sailor’s voyage. So it was only natural that her body just be crackling with energy tied to her emotions (especially when she blushes or gets excited).

(credit to @earthsong9405​)

3. Invoke Godzilla imagery:

How can you have Kaiju without at least some references to Godzilla? Herebegiants and I went through a series of different iterations of plating, spikes, fins, etc., to finally get to something that captured elements of Godzilla. Thicker plating at points, spikes on the arms and calves and knuckles, fins up the spine, etc. 

There were some things I wanted to avoid, however. Long-ranged attacks such as vision-based or breath-based powers (heat vision or atomic breath) I wanted to avoid, along with not giving her a tail. A lot of Frey’s charm for me comes from her being a brawler who uses her head, fists, teeth, knees, etc. against her foe. A tail, while very Godzilla-ie, would slow her down due to her bulk and size and long-ranged attacks would somewhat rob her of the defining trait that makes Freyja so endearing for me: she’s a woman who really really likes to punch stuff.

She might get a bit more monster-ie as time progresses (who knows what the Cambrian Engine’s effects will have on her long-term?), but for now I’m rather happy with the balance I’ve struck with her colorful qualities.

(credit to @chamomile-g-tea​)

4. Retain her Humanity:

At the end of the day, Kaiju!Freyja is still a Human. And while she is categorized as a specific type of Kaiju in Genesis Day (the Nephilim-class), she is still very much a Human. She has hopes, dreams, fears, and can feel love and anger and joy just like any other woman would. And while that isn’t to say that characters who don’t look like Humans can’t feel those things either, on the contrary, I still wanted her to have that semblance of Humanity in her Kaiju!AU to help show that balance between Human and monster.

---

---

Annnnnnd there you go @smolcomfycat! Probably a bit longer than you were anticipating, but I enjoy thinking about/discussing these things.

[chezgeeksoaps]

Sneak preview time! (And what, no, I didn't lose track of time this morning, what makes you think that 😅)

We have new and more elaborate washcloths available later today on the store! Knitted by my talented and lovely sister, there are four color choices: Cloud (blue), Cocoa (brown), Daffodil (yellow), and Merlot (red). The most important thing to note about these is that they do not all have the same knit patterns, so for my sanity I am categorizing them only by color: when you order one, it will be a surprise which pattern you receive.

(Also pictured, head of production/tiny menace/eater of yarn Tank who wanted to make the picture All About Her. Mondays, amirite?)

With this essay written, I'm off to update the website. Happy Monday chics and geeks ❤️

[yoikami]

2, 21, 26 ❤️

2. What are you obsessed with at the moment?

My current autistic spectrum diagnosis procedure. I've been talking about it the most this month! Otherwise making magicarp plushies themed after St Valentines 💜

21. Describe your best friend.

I don't categorize friends based on the level of friendship ☺️ but I can say the one I talk to the most, and plan to go to events with is like a staple of my life. They're easy to talk to, we understand mutual struggles and personal battles smoothly and have very similar views on things. They just radiate but not like a mid-day sun, more like dawn or sunset, it's a comforting sight to start a day with! They're particular about a lot of things and it just makes me comfortable taking it all into account. We discuss everything, they're just like family to me!! 🪼

All my friends are. I love how each has a speciality, how our mutual bond is unique for each of them. I can describe each by their unique abilities and interests 💜

26. Favorite season?

Fall, but not the kind I experience where I live (aka humid and warm). Fall with colors and romanticized like in shows 🥲

[ronearoundblindly]

Hello! I’ve never done an “ask” before, but since you’re one of my fave writers I thought I’d give it a go. I love the way you write Your soft Steve. I especially love how cerebral he is; even if he’s not sure how to open up and express himself easily (even to reader), you show us how thoughtful and self-aware he is. So my ask is having him go against type a bit. Have him get a visceral reaction like jealousy, wherein he just ACTS out of a primal urge (like the latest Dignity of his choice where he is at the mercy of his basic instincts). Jealous Steve would be hot. Or angry Steve (like if some guy was hitting on reader aggressively). I know you’re working on a lot of great other stories, but if this idea sparks an interest I’d love to see what you would do with it! ❤️

So IRL, I loathe jealousy but damn if it isn't some of the sexiest. shit. ever. in-fic.

Message Received, over 1.5k b/c there must be plotty plot

Summary: At a diplomatic event, Steve realizes he doesn't like when you have more fun at the function than he does.

Warnings for macho-shit, general possessiveness, but I'll be honest, I still wrote it kinda soft in comparison to other jelly!Steve's I've read. I am incapable of much 'dark' behavior. Also zero editing.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

You wouldn’t categorize these fancy receptions as ‘fun.’ Often times they are long and boring. The worst ones are arduous, ones where you have to hold your tongue and be spoken down to by others, ones where you are Steve’s trophy and assumed to have no opinions of your own.

This is one of the best ones.

Nova Corps has sent a delegation to Earth for some negotiations for support and supplies. The people are fascinating, funny, and intelligent. The absolute best part is that one young-ish man (compared to the others who look 60+ by human standards and you aren’t sure what the equivalent is for them frankly) is knowingly talking to you about your interests. He’s aware of Earth’s current scientific understanding and its limitations. He knows you are studied and, in fact, the lead of your lab at AvIn. He’s just nice about it.

My god, you never get nice people at these things. It’s so freeing.

His name is a variant of Michael, and he says you’re welcome to use that instead of a convoluted native tongue. Michael has blue skin but appears extremely similar to human. There’s pink- and orange-skinned members of the delegation as well. You want to know, scientifically but also as respectfully as possible, what the differences are. Various facial and body features show across them, but none are consistently isolated by color. It’s fascinating.

Michael is so excited that you are fascinated, too.

Steve’s going through the motions. These functions are a chore—but not always—and he has a purpose for being here—but it’s complete now—so he keeps listening to the Nova Prime while she speaks of logistical concerns for the partnership with Earth and yada yada…

Man, Steve is not usually this over these events so early in the evening. It’s probably due to this being the party at the end of five whole days. Ceremony after meeting after photo-op after ceremony after meeting.

His eyes roam around the room for you. If you seem sufficiently ‘done’ as well, he’s ready to make excuses and head home.

But you’re not. You are not ‘done’ at all.

That’s your engrossed face.

That’s your flattered face.

Steve purses his lips and realizes he stopped listening to the Prime.

“I’m so sorry, but do you know who that is over with the woman in—“

“Oh, yes, he was so delighted when we knew your wife would be here.”

Steve wants to be delighted, too, but his jaw simply tightens instead. Nova Prime tells him a name that Steve outright does not know how to repeat before—

“Call him Michael, here. It’s no bother. He’s quite used to it, but his specialty is very similar to hers. He can talk for hours and hours since it is rare he finds a kindred spirit who understands the particulars,” she goes on.

Steve watches as your face lights up and your hand lightly drags down Michael’s arm. That’s fine. You’re talking. You’re animated and using those hand gestures that signify microscopic particles interacting in a way that Steve’s never really gotten a grasp on, and then you lift your hand to your ear and scrunch your nose, struggling to hear Michael’s answer.

That man leans forward, and it’d be fine if he just steadied himself with a touch to your arm. That’d be normal. Acceptable, but no. Michael puts his hand to your neck when he replies very close to your ear.

Steve may as well have swallowed the shield. A lump the size of Mount Rushmore is lodged in his chest. Maybe it’s heartburn from the fancy and foreign food being served for days on end. Maybe Steve needs more water. Maybe Michael needs to take a step back before—

“They seem to be getting along nicely,” the Prime says, smiling.

Tony steps into Steve’s view of your conversation and makes his way toward them.

“All-in-all, I think we’ve had a success, yes?”

“Nova Corp will never forget the generosity of Earth, Mr. Stark.”

A customary bow is exchanged, though Steve knows Tony joked about going in for a hug with the tall blond that is Nova’s Prime, and at some point, Steve cared whether Tony made an interstellar incident out of coping a feel. Not now. Steve has no care for anything Stark does because where did you go?

“Excuse me,” he hurries out after taking a step around Tony.

Steve meanders over to where you were talking with Michael a few seconds ago, grateful for his height so that he can scan the room the whole journey, but he can’t see you or the color of your dress or the blue of Michael’s skin anywhere.

He’s getting hot, and Steve has absolutely no reason to be sweating even in his three-piece suit. The serum makes it so he doesn’t break a sweat or increase his heart rate until the average person would go into cardiac arrest, and seriously, where are you?

He doesn’t want to stop people he knows in their mingling to ask ‘have you seen my wife’ over and over. For some reason that smacks of a desperation that wiggles the lump thumping against Steve’s sternum with every stride around the room.

And then Steve hears your laugh. You’re at the edge of the large ballroom. No. You’re in a hallway off the ballroom. A much quieter hallway that Steve is not at all happy to find is not better lit than the sultry event space.

There’s Michael with his forearm stretched across yours and your hands clasped at each other’s elbows.

“I can feel it,” you giggle again. “That’s amazing.”

Steve thunders down the few feet of hall to get to you, sliding a hand—the full expanse of his broad hand—across your back, between your shoulder blades, where he knows you are sensitive, and threads his fingers to land beneath the strap of your gown for the occasion. He’s delighted to get a small but visible shiver out of you, and your arm unlatches from the boy’s.

“What’s amazing, my beloved Keeper?” He’s sure to cast each syllable in bronze and hurl it in Michael’s direction specifically. Blue Boy knows what it means. Steve’s sure of it, but the bemused smirk never falters.

“Sweetheart,” you chirp, no hint of concern, only your excitement. “His species—that’s appropriate to say, yes?—“ Michael nods politely “—they can control a certain amount of electrical output from their brains in order to reinforce any part of their anatomy.”

Steve’s not an expert, but he’s fairly confident there’s a hard-on joke in there somewhere. You don’t seem to notice. You’re still trying to explain when Michael cuts you off.

“Basically, my bones can’t be broken,” Blue Boy concludes with a bright white smile.

Yeah, but are your teeth safe, Steve wonders.

His hand unhooks from your dress only to land possessively at the swell of your hip. This is the closest thing Steve ever does to actually touching your ass in public, and he gets a shy glancing down from you in return. He even pushes you against his hip which leads to the equivalent pressure of a grope.

You stand up ramrod straight and clear your throat.

“That’s a bold claim. Can’t,” Steve starts. “Maybe it’s a language barrier, but are you saying it’s impossible?”

Blue Boy smiles. “Mr. Rogers, I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” and he bows as is customary.

You won’t, Steve almost says but catches himself. “It’s Captain Rogers.” He does not move his hand from your hip but sticks out his other with steel blue eyes fixed on Michael. “And this is traditional here.”

The boy doesn’t hesitate to take Steve’s hand, which is irritating enough, but then Steve grips—and he grips fucking hard—for a very long few seconds.

“This is Michael,” you offer politely, unknowingly, thoughtfully while a minuscule game of chicken is played two feet below your nose, “since we can’t pronounce the native tongue, or at least, I can’t.”

“Pleasure—“ Steve grips “—to meet you—“ he finally feels a small snap beneath his thumb and Blue Boy’s eye twitches while the white of his smile fades “—Michael.”

To his credit, the boy doesn’t make any other show of pain, but he does let the hand fall limp by his side while his face settles back to neutral.

“Captain,” he huffs before nodding at you, “Mrs. Rogers, excuse me. I must be returning to my people.”

Michael leaves without another bow. Steve is very pleased to have broken Michael’s…sense of custom as he turns to you.

“Sweetheart,” Steve breathes, taking your chin in his hand softly, “shall we go?”

You seem surprised. “Already? I thought you’d need to schmooze for at least another—“ but his lips cut you off.

It’s not as heavy-handed as he could be, but Steve pins your hips against him while his tongue dives past your perfect lipstick. He kinda wants to smear it. He really hopes it gets all over him.

“I want—” Steve releases your mouth “—to take you—“ and he spends a little too long dragging his lips across your jaw before finishing breathily in your ear “—home.”

That’s it, he thinks. Melt in my arms, to my touch, at my words.

He relishes every second you need to compose your response.

“Yeah,” you pant, aimlessly unfocused at the ceiling before looking at him again. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Weeeeeeeeellll, I hope you enjoyed that because 🥵 I got myself again. Hope it made sense because I'm too distracted by Steebness to be coherent. And fuck it. This is within the Fools-verse so I'mma tag the list. (It's not because I'm proud of the hng at all. No way. Nuh-uh.)

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @fangirl-swagg @georgeweaslysgirl @austynparksandpizza @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes

Thank you for the ask! Always welcome and keep them coming!

[doppelnatur]

Fourth gender

[ID: A pride flag. It is a red circle on dark purple ground. On the circle 4. Is written in white. END]

What is fourth gender?

Fourth gender is an old timey label for afab queer people. You may have heard of the book "Berlin's Third Sex" by Magnus Hirschfeld. Well there's a fourth sex too! Sex and gender are the same word in German so you may also have seen it translated as third gender. I have read before that third gender is a term used in Black American communities, I know nothing about that and am not speaking for that community, please do keep that in mind when continuing reading.

The concepts of third and fourth sex/gender, as I'm understanding them, go back to Karl Heinrich Ulrichs' (*1825- † 1895) concepts of sex, sexuality, and gender. Ulrichs was an early queer activist who pushed for the recognition of queerness as a natural trait that you are born with. She conceptualized same gender attraction as an intersex condition, where the part of you that feels attraction is of the "opposite" sex. She broke your sex down into three parts, your body, your love and your soul where all of these can fall on a spectrum of male, female or both. People of male body, who were female in their love and/or soul became conceptualized as being born a third sex person. People of female body, who were male in their love and/or soul, as fourth sex. If you were both male and female in any of these regards you would be categorized as a double nature by Ulrichs. As far as I can tell Hirschfeld went on using the concepts of third and fourth sex but not double nature, which makes it a bit more of an obscure term as he is the more well known one of the two! I have read more of Ulrichs' works than Hirschfeld's though so don't quote me on this.

As you can see quite a bit of this understanding is outdated, but quite a bit is still part of our culture! The born this way narrative endured, but the reasoning is no longer that being queer is an intersex condition. The split of body (sex), love (attraction) and soul (gender) is something that we have now emphasized more, but that was already there. Of course many cis lesbians and bisexuals strongly object to their attraction to women being seen as male and that's good! But I think many sapphics and trans people also do view it as part of our gender and our bodies and I really like that this label highlights how interwoven and inseparable our body, sexuality and gender really are!

So I thought I'd bring this back maybe, and yes, while the fourth sex in it's original usage may have been mainly for lesbians, straight trans men, and everyone in between, I translated it as fourth gender here for a reason! We are not 19th century sex philosophers here. I want this label to be open to for all women, sapphics, intersex, nonbinary and trans people who vibe with it regardless of assigned gender. The reason I like these old labels is, the ambiguity of them, the way they connect me to my history, but also to my current community. And my current community is full of bisexual nonbinary trans women.

What does the flag mean?

The white 4. on the circle is just because this is the fourth gender flag. You can use any four you want here, I just chose the amiri font because it seemed fairly neutral. I picked white as the color of nonbinary and transitioning people, but it also just looks good.

The red circle is meant to be a planet. Both Venus and Mars are fairly red planets, and red symbolizes both masculinity and feminity. The circle shape is also meant to call back to the intersex flag to symbolize intersex people and because the concept was originally seen as a form of intersexedness. It's here to symbolize womanhood, manhood, intersex people, butches and femmes. Also communism ;)

The purple/lavender background is the color of queerness, sapphics and feminism! It's also space for our little red planet to be in. ❤️

[throwing-summers-at-the-walls]

18. Blackout nights and tight spaces

Hi anon ! Thanks for sending a prompt !!❤️❤️

Special thanks to @cowboymulder for his brainstorming help and support ❤️

Summary: Two times John almost kissed Harold, and one time he did. (Ao3 link if you want to read it there)

To be honest, John is paying more attention to Harold in his peripheral vision than whatever is happening on the screen. The colors dancing faintly on his face make him look strangely beautiful, and John feels the familiar urge to hold him unfurl within him. He focuses on his breathing and the screen. It was supposed to just be a crush, caused by their proximity, by Harold dragging him out of his downward spiral. But that crush got dangerously out of hand, and now John loves him, wants to touch and hold and kiss him and spend the rest of his life with him. He doesn't know what to do with the vertiginous intensity of his feelings. Most of the time he tries to ignore them, but sometimes he allows himself to think about Harold kissing him or falling asleep in his arms.

Harold has been getting closer, inviting him out to dinner or taking him to the cinema (John categorically refused to go to the opera). It doesn't mean anything. They're both lonely. They are each other's only friends. He doesn't want to see things that aren't here. But sometimes Harold looks at him with so much tenderness, he feels like he can't breathe, like there has to be something more.

The lights go out. Danger, he thinks immediately. He gets up and takes out his gun. They're close to an exit, but what if–

"John, it's okay, I think it's a power outage."

He allows himself to relax slightly. It's so dark and they're so close. The urge comes back; he could reach out, touch him, say something. Do you want to come home with me burns on his tongue; can I kiss you resonates in his head; and three other words are stuck in his throat. He stays silent.

They manage to get outside, and stand next to each other. John doesn't want to leave him.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he says, expecting Harold to say goodbye and take a taxi.

"Wait."

Harold touches his arm and he's burning; fire runs through his veins, igniting all his nerves. He can picture himself raising his hand, letting it rest on the back of Harold's neck and bending down to taste his lips.

"Would you come home with me ?" Harold asks. "The blackout shouldn't last long, and I have an emergency generator anyway. We could watch a movie. An entire movie this time."

John snaps out of his thoughts.

"Of course, I'd love that."

Harold smiles; John's heart is about to fly out of his chest. John rests his hand on the small of his back as they walk back to his car.

"Did your painkillers wear off enough for you to drive ?"

"No, you drive. I'll give you directions."

Traffic is heavy and they soon find themselves not moving at all.

"This isn't the evening I had in mind," Harold sighs.

John turns to face him. "It's okay. I like being with you, blackout or not," he replies. "What do you think we should watch ?"

"I don't know, do you have any ideas ?"

"I asked you first."

"You don't have any ideas either, do you ?"

Harold smiles again. John could swear he's looking at his lips. He leans closer.

"I admit I don't, but you're the one inviting me, you should pick."

John reaches out and rests his hand on his thigh. Harold swallows and doesn't move.

"Now that I think about it... I actually have... a very interesting documentary about the history of opera."

"Hey, no need to threaten me, I'm sure I can think of something."

Harold puts his hand on top of John's.

"I don't doubt it."

The touch lights a fire inside him again. John gets closer still and Harold mirrors him. His belt impedes his movement but he doesn't want to take his hand off of Harold to unfasten it. Harold is so close, he can almost taste his lips.

A loud honk coming from behind startles them both. John pulls his hand back and grips the wheel. It is way too warm in the car. The silence is deafening, and Harold breaks it only to give him directions.

Traffic is slow and unending; time stretches. John focuses on driving as much as he can and reads the license plate of the car ahead of them again and again every time they stop. But his mind keeps replaying the way Harold looked at him, how close they were. His imagination busies itself with the moment that should have followed. They get out of the traffic. Street after street, turn after turn, he can only think of kissing him, telling him what he's been holding back for so long. Finally, they reach Harold's place. He parks the car and they quickly escape its suffocating atmosphere.

John follows Harold under the porch. One wrong decision and he could ruin everything, but one right decision… It wouldn't be wrong. Harold wanted to kiss him a few minutes ago. He didn't move away from him, quite the contrary. John stands close to him. The lack of light makes him feel like it's the middle of the night, when everything feels less real. But Harold feels so real right next to him. The lock clicks open.

"Wait," John says. He's surprised to hear his voice is raspier than usual.

Harold looks up at him, but doesn't have time to ask why he said that.

"Can I kiss you ?" John asks.

Harold smiles, a full smile John has never seen before.

"Yes," he breathes out. "Yes," he repeats with more assurance, "you can."

John reaches out to touch his cheek. Their lips meet, Harold returns his kiss with enthusiasm. John can't get enough of him, he wants to hold him and never let go. He moves his hands to Harold's waist. They kiss again and again. Harold runs his hand through his hair and John feels at home. The words in his throat try to escape him again, and this time he lets them.

"I love you," he whispers – he kept it inside for so long, he can't say it very loud just yet.

"I love you too," Harold replies like it's the easiest thing to say. John hopes it will become that easy for him too.

They kiss again and the whole world clicks into place as the streetlights come back on. Harold is still smiling; John knows he wants to make him smile for the rest of his life. Harold takes his hand. His touch doesn't feel like fire anymore, it provides warmth and comfort instead. He opens the door and John follows him inside.

[daydream-ideas]

It's so cool that you make mood boards for your Paras! Are you by any chance ever open for requests? It's completely fine if not, but regardless, nice work c: I love how you associate your Paras w different colors (I have synesthesia so it's v pleasing to me!) I hope you have a nice day 💜

aaaaaaaaaa this ask made me very happy! I really enjoy making moodboards so yes, if you give me some info and perhaps a color that you’d like (or no color and i will pick) then i will take requests! I cannot promise a timely response tho 😔 but i enjoy making them very much

And yes! I don’t know what makes me associate which para with which color but that’s just how I categorize them in my mind. It’s so cool that you have synesthesia ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

tldr; i am open for requests. just send me some info about your para, whether or not you’d like a namecard (one of the “photos” in the moodboard being their name) and a color if you’d like to choose one

[ros-doodles-reblogs]

Yeah i did this thing because I was bored and because I deleted the original post

Sooo...here is the most recent list of some of my characters and their relationship status, obviously I didn't add all my ocs, I just put the names of those ocs I usually draw

Key:

GREEN: single (Open to pair )

ORANGE:Single ( Undefined to pair: I can be picky....ask me though-)

PURPLE: Single but not Open to pair! (Don’t evern think about it-)

PINK: In love / Crushing on someone!

RED: Taken!

Angels

Yerathel Aureum

Mavet (Malach Hamavet)

Castiel IVangeli

Calliel IVangeli

Nuriel Lux

Sereda Hearts (Melody )

Mia hearts

Elohi Bellator

Ismelia Noctis

Enediel Dayaxa

Natalia de Obumbratio

Demons

Astartea Neo

Alexander

Gerion Shehvah

Keres Herisetra

Velvet Velrose

Redeca Inferno

Maalik Ignis

Xia Nova

Aysel Neo

Mitra Blanca

Sylene Cristali

Anthros

Ambar Jhones

Moka Burrell

Cocoa Van Ewen

Lucy Gastrell

Misaki Gastrell

Hazel Honey

Miyu Higurashi

Haruka Tachibana

Ji Yang Mi

Nozomi Himura

Donna Mykolaiv

Kendall Mykolaiv

Santiago Burrell

Marcello jhones

Alek O’Neil

Raffaello Collard

Bailey Valkov

Other species

Lumazi Eternelle

Anastasia Caelesti

Anael Caelesti

Sugar Eedevane

Taraneh

Astra Skadi

Icarus skadi

Calypso Skadi

My sonas :

Rose Cat

Vered Russo