#but I have SO MANY FUN TEXTURES NOW

[lorebird]

Some pokemon doodle rqs for @tentatechnologies and @saint-nevermore :3

[dancinghannigram]

some faves from my little dincobb comic :>

[chiropteracupola]

only room for one on the phone at a time :/

[text taken from the most ominous advertisement for telephones I've ever seen]

[lemongogo]

i need 2 stop drawing static stuff . white bg . front facing pose. <will do it again

[steakout-05]

ok as an artist i personally find traditional painting to be. really really annoying. like. i do not have the patience for it and i just find it to be really frustrating to set up and actually do and i end up not liking the results. i find that there's little room for mistakes and trying to fix them usually ends up with me making 50 other ones, paints can be so inconsistent and having to rely on availability and certain brands to continue making the paint is really inconvenient, not to mention expensive. spending a bunch of time trying to mix the right shade of paint, only for it to go down a completely different shade of colour and not being able to do anything about it is so frustrating as someone who likes consistency and having things just, y'know, not change colour as soon as it dries. plus, they all use different chemicals and can go off really easily or change textures and i am just not ok with having all my materials having an expiration date like food. lead and graphite pencils just don't do that and they can last for years, they're more reliable. every paint is drastically different and trying to find the right one is not only time consuming but, again, expensive, and i don't even see the point in experimenting when most of my materials end up not even getting used if i don't like using them. plus, i'm just.... really impatient. waiting for paint to dry sucks and is why i much prefer digital or just drawing something because i don't need to wait for anything, it just works. and then when i do want to take my time and work slowly for a better result, it dries too fast. it's kinda hellish trying to balance that time, especially considering how inconsistent paints are.

i like to use guidelines when doing art and i find painting straight onto a canvas to be really tricky because there's a lack of direction for me to actually paint. i'm at a complete loss at what to do when i pick up a brush because i can't map it out first without risking screwing up the paint. there's just so many things to keep track of and so much wet paint to avoid and i just do not have the mind for it. putting colours on a canvas and praying that it works just isn't it for me and requires a discipline that i just don't wanna involve myself with. painting is also just like... really exhausting and kinda painful. i got some pretty bad back issues and my arms tire and get sore easily and quickly when i'm standing in front of a canvas. it's a really physical activity for me and i just don't find something to be very fun to do at all when it's physically hurting me. i know drawing on a canvas has this issue too, which is why i prefer sketchbooks. sitting down and drawing something that doesn't break my entire spine every time i do it is much more preferrable than questioning if i should go to the doctor every time i make a brushstroke, lol

that's not to say that there's nothing i like about painting though! i can paint simple little things, and i like doing that. i like mixing colours with a palette knife and i find it fun and even a little relaxing. i painted some cute little chibi cardboard cutouts of the mario brothers one time and i found that to be really fun and i think i'd like to do that again! but apart from that, i just do not have the patience for it. i love the look of traditional paintings and i find many to be really beautiful, but i could never get into actually doing it myself because i hate the process. i'm content with just sketching and doing digital stuff because that's more fun to me and less stressful of a process to do. it's fun, it allows for more mistakes, it's easier to build up layers of shading and lines, not to mention using building up a figure with guidelines is super helpful with visualising what i want it to look like, and i can just erase something if i don't want it there or want to change something. it just makes sense to me.

tl;dr i dont like painting because it's inconsistent, expensive, time-consuming, directionless, frustrating and it makes my back hurt really bad. i'll just stick to drawing stuff :)

[athymhormia]

[dumbkiwi]

4 am means it's time to clog up your dash with personal posts anyways looking at ppls embroidery and my own realizing both how far ive come and how much more i can still learn/do is very cool. no i dont want to write an email in japanese.

[arundolyn]

What characters are the easiest/hardest to do swaps for? Which one did you get the most? The least?

hmmmm.. good question.

im not sure theres like an "easiest" vs "hardest" cause theres a lot of factors at play, so much as there's like... the way things are laid out tends to make things naturally look pretty good. or how fun they are i guess. which would be like... lambda, nine, celica, es, tsubaki, izayoi, rachel. in no order. those are fun. and then like.. hakumen, arakune, bang, susan, and maybe a teensy bit tao are less fun imo cause their indices are largely simplified and it hampers... customizability. i guess. if that makes sense. hakumen and arakune in particular ngl, but that's mostly cause they were there from the start and shit was weird back then so i get it. (yes i see there's a pattern here it was not intentional hjfhdkahf) tager is an honorable mention cause he looks godawful with any skin color that isnt red its so terrible it physically pains me. put some red on that beast.

in terms of numbers, that would take a lot more investigative work than i would give it by virtue of a) checking the volume of all the character palette folders ive made would be extremely tedious (derogatory), b) i dont save all the requests i get, and c) i dont post everything i do, not by a long shot, so off the cuff i'd say... the most is like kagura or nine? leaning more towards nine cause i was actually going through stuff i have saved for her and its well over 100 files. celica's actually high up too just cause i think she's fun, and the least is probably valk just cause idk i dont do much with him and not many people ask for him i guess

thats just blazblue tho. uhhh in terms of unib... linne's kinda difficult sometimes. wagner's pretty fun. vati hyde carmine and orie too definitely. ive probably been asked for hyde or seth the most but i genuinely have nooooo clue there. and wald the least almost definitely. maybe akatsuki. sorry chesto man

this is all mostly half educated guesses so anything not opinion based is probably wrong hjdhfhsdjkah

[teaboot]

This is gonna sound rather conceited but I feel like it highlights an issue we have in Art.

I'm good at art. I've never had a hard time making art. I started using crayons before I could walk. Painting, Beadwork, sculpture, sketching, stippling, whatever- once I have a feel for the material, it doesn't take long to start doing what I want with it. It's been a common theme my whole life.

(Y contrast I'm awful at things like dancing, performance, sports, etc- in all things there is balance, right?)

Now, I've taught myself to use so many artistic mediums now that I KNOW how to most efficiently integrate them into the brain database. Once you really *understand* a material, it's much like memorizing the layout of your house, or flexing a muscle, or something in-between- it becomes PART of your brain in a way I cant quite articulate. But to get there involves just fucking around for a bit doing nothing in particular.

And I've found, especially in group settings, that nobody seems to be able to see you make something badly and leave you alone. Even if you say you're fine, you don't want help, you're happy, you're having fun, it's fine, they gotta ride your ass and hover.

I was at a class the other day for something I hadn't done before. The medium was one I've never used, so once the instructor told us the basics I started experimenting with weight, gravity, texture, viscosity, saturation, temperature, etc. The instructor had given enough info to know what was dangerous and what was safe, and beyond that I just wanted to absorb what I could about it.

And no insult to the instructor, but they kept checking in. Which was fine the first few times.

But then, without asking me what I was trying to do, started giving tips. That I told them I was grateful for but didn't really need just yet. If I had a question, I'd ask.

But they kept coming over. And touching my shit. And manipulating my project. And touching my hands. And using my tools. Without fucking asking.

And this happens every time. EVERY TIME. And by now I know the best way to get them to fuck off is to make something way beyond their expectations so they know I'm capable, then go back to doing what I want.

So I did. I wanted to keep having fun and learning, but instead I made something beautiful that I really didn't want to make, and wasted my time, and really didn't learn what I wanted to learn at all. I knew the formula to create a beautiful thing, so I followed that formula the same way I have a hundred times before, and didn't get to try anything spontaneous or ugly or exciting, just so I could be left alone.

And I know when I was a kid, I was aware aware people saw me puttering alone on something ugly assumed I had a special issue and treated me like I was stupid because of that. (I was neurodivergent.) And at at time I knew that I could do a neat trick for them like a trained pony and they'd go, "Oh, surely they aren't defective if they can do something like that!" And piss off.

But what if I hadn't known how to do that?

What if I hadn't been talented, or "special"?

What if I'd been just any other average kid trying to learn, and I couldn't pop something pretty out of my ass to get them off my back?

My problem my whole life has been that I haven't been allowed to make anything ugly in peace. I'm capable of beauty, so I have to make beauty, or get stepped on. And once people see what I can do, they get loud about it. "Look at this! Look what they did! We all know who the best is, don't we?". And that used to feel good, but it's tiring.

And how many people like me just wanted to play? Just wanted to have fun and experiment? Who were having fun with no goal in mind, or just took longer to learn, who gave up because of all the obnoxious helpers breathing down their neck with no way to shake them off?

How many of us are made to feel defective because we aren't doing things beautifully?

I have a lovely piece of art I didn't want to make.

I think I'm gonna frame it.*

(*I think I'm gonna burn it in my yard.)

[tildexart]

The Magnus Archives (Season One) Production Design Project

Hello everyone! Let me introduce myself- I'm Tilda (or Tilde), and I'm want to be a production designer.

Production designers create the overall look of a piece of media. From costumes, lighting, environments, props, etc., these designers make sure that everything looks cohesive and sets the mood.

So, I thought it would be fun to put my skills to the test by designing season one of The Magnus Archives. My winter break started as soon as I became interested in the show. Needless to say, a new obsession and an abundance of free time go well together.

You may have seen these illustrations posted separately, this is a master post of the whole project. My thoughts, processes, and critiques are all included under the cut. If you read them, I hope you enjoy! If, not, thank you for supporting my work regardless.

The Characters

When designing these characters, I tried to avoid being influenced by fan interpretations. Though, that was a challenge (especially with Jon and Sasha). I found that I looked to my friends for inspiration. Certain elements (Jon's glasses) were based off of what they wore.

Pinterest was also useful for finding clothing and pose references. Some looks were based off of different actors- in particular, Tim was inspired by Nicholas Galitzine and Elias inspired by Matthew Lillard.

Jane was the most fun to design! I believe in making terrifying characters actually terrifying.

Elias's design needs the most work. Having now finished the show, I see that it doesn't fit him. The purple is overly saturated, especially compared to the set. He looks out of place! I'd reverse the color palette to mostly green/yellow with purple accents instead. Although, I will forever defend the purple tint in his gray hair.

The Set

Jonathan's office was a treat to design! Balancing the color and clutter was especially important. This room is meant to be claustrophobic and uncomfortable, but not overbearingly so.

The wood looks to be full of splinters, but not so worn that it can be thrown out. The chairs offer no back support, and the shelves make the room smaller. The goal was to represented Jon's mind. Intricate, messy, and suffocating (Note: that is more of a season two description).

One goal was to capture the look of an actual archive. Valuable times was spent researching the different kinds of storage, files, paper, etc. The texture and color had to be accurate.

A split-complementary color palette of blue-green, yellow-green, and red was used. Of course, I had to get green in there, and the varying hues and desaturated reds worked well for the wood and filing supplies.

Jane's ashes and the Web lighter on the desk place this set at the end of season one. I find details like this to be important, it's one of my favorite parts of design. There is much needed abundance of eye imagery as well. Most obviously in the carpet, but eyes are carved into the table and watch from the shelves.

My main critique is the lighting- the filters used could be adjusted as to not distort the colors of the boxes. They look inconsistent. The Web lighter could also be more obvious, yet it is small and pixelated.

The Props

I designed these as I re-listened to season one, and it is the most recent piece I finished. Combining the details described in the show with what the objects would have realistically looked like was interesting. That was most useful for the clown, the Ming vase, and Ex Altiora.

Each of these objects came from a specific time with a specific look. Ex Altiora was bound in calf leather from the 1800s, so those books were referenced. Same with the frills on the clown's outfit.

The Ming vase was especially interesting, as it is from the Jiajing period. When looking at photographs of Jiajing vases, I found that many of them lacked handles and had an hourglass shape. That was fascinating to me, as many artists depict a standard oval-shaped vase. Also, the vase's design is described as straight lines that create distorted patterns when looking at it. That effect was achieved using chromatic aberration and the liquify tool (chromatic aberration was used to create a vertigo effect on Ex Altiora).

My critiques are... nitpicky. minimal. The shading on top of the garbage bag is unnatural. The thickness of the gold engraving on Ex Altiora is uneven. The "I" in "Immediate Consideration" is not capitalized. Other than that, I'm happy with how the props look.

Conclusion

First off, if you read everything, thank you!! It is a lot, I know.

My greatest takeaways are that 1) ask for critique, always 2) research skills are necessary for design 3) references are your friend! Seriously guys, use your references.

I hope you enjoyed this project and I'm excited to share more of my work in the future!

[yabakuboi]

Robin has a love-hate relationship with Steve-and-Eddie. Love, because those are her best friends and her best friends are in love with each other and they never leave her out of anything. Hate, because sometimes she wishes they would because she keeps accidentally third-wheeling herself.

She doesn't hate it that much though, if she's honest. It's just fun to complain, especially because it riles the both of them up.

But right now, she's being quiet so she can witness one of her secretly-favorite Steve-and-Eddie rituals—of which there are many, but this one is silly and endearing.

It starts like this:

The waitress sets down their drinks, lemonade for Robin, coca-cola for Steve, and a cherry soda for Eddie.

"Don't you dare," Eddie says, even as Steve reaches for Eddie's drink, slipping his straw in next to Eddie's and slurping obnoxiously. Eddie doesn't even pretend to stop him anymore. "Unbelievable."

"I just want to taste it!"

"You could just get a whole glass of it! All for yourself!!"

"It's too sweet, I don't want a whole glass."

"What, so you think you can just help yourself to mine?"

Steve's grin is far too smug, even for Robin, even when Steve slides it to her so she can take a sip. Steve is right, it is really too sweet and she wrinkles her nose, but it's worth it for the offended gasp Eddie makes when she slides it back to him.

The diner is their favorite, because everyone who works there has given up on understanding their weird dynamic: Robin and Steve squished into on side of the booth while Eddie's spread out on the other, Robin making gagging noises whenever Steve brushes against her, even though they never sit in any other configuration. The staff has long since stopped asking which of them was her boyfriend, and that's perfect for her.

Besides, she knows that under the table, Steve and Eddie have their ankles locked together like the disgusting love-sick dorks that they are.

The Steve-and-Eddie show continues when their meals come out. Chicken fingers and fries for Steve because he's an actual child, and breakfast for dinner for Eddie because he likes to be contrary. And then the real performance begins.

They "fight" over the ketchup bottle, which really means that Eddie picks it up and Steve snatches it out of his hands—only for Steve to spread it over Eddie's scrambled eggs (gross) for him before he adds a disgusting amount to his own basket.

Eddie makes a game of stealing Steve's fries when he thinks he isn't looking (Steve is, he's tallying each one up in his head, Robin knows this because she's doing it too), and when he finally "catches" Eddie in the act, he steals Eddie's last piece of bacon—the one that's sat untouched for the last five minutes for this very reason.

Then, Eddie's "forcing" Steve to try his grits, like he does every time, and game eats a spoonful of it, every time, and then complains at length how much he hates it (and he actually does hate it, the texture is just not for him, Robin knows because it's the same for her too).

And then they do the worst, most disgusting thing ever: they split the pancake in half. Without fail. Without argument. Every time.

Robin, slurping on her strawberry milk shake that she will NEVER share with anyone ever, thinks that stupid pancake is like the symbol of their love or something. Sh's sure if they weren't in public, they'd be feeding it to each other.

"What?" They say it in unison, and Robin hates when they do that to her.

(Eddie complains about it right back at her, because she and Steve do the same thing to him all the time. They should blame Steve, since he's the common denominator, but he just looks so pleased about them both that they can't rag on him for it, so Eddie remains Robin's sworn enemy and vice versa.)

"What what?" she sneers at them, voice quiet. "You two are disgusting, it's like you're making out right in front of me right now."

"What are you, homophobic?" Eddie hisses back, just as quiet. "I'm in love with your best friend, Buckley. I'm making out with him in front of you for the rest of your life."

"Ugh! I hate you so much."

"Right back at you."

And then they start kicking at each other beneath the table, no doubt catching Steve's ankles in the crossfire. He doesn't tell them to stop though, and Robin can see that pleased, sappy smile on his stupid face out of the corner of her eye, so she lands an exceptionally harsh blow to Eddie's shin in retaliation for making her best friend so happy. He digs his heel into her toes in return.

[onyourowndaisymae]

presenting the obey me dateables (+ luke) with a friendship bracelet

you all asked so nicely for the dateables that i couldn't help but get inspired! i intend to reverse this prompt and write the characters making you a friendship bracelet sometime soon (will be split by demon brothers/dateables bc that's so many words)

[the demon brothers version]

[the dateables (+ luke) presenting you with a friendship bracelet]

content warnings: none

prompt: you grin down at your work. in your hands is a small friendship bracelet, lovingly crafted from hard work and the embroidery thread you found in your closet. you weren't quite sure why you'd made it, but the thought of giving a certain someone the bracelet and watching their reaction made you smile. now, to hand it off...

Diavolo

this is a mistake.

at least, that's what barbatos and lucifer think. because from the moment you present diavolo with a friendship bracelet, it is all he talks about.

when you approach him with the little gift--a red and black bundle of knots and strings-- and offer it up, he laughs jovially and asked what it was. you explain it's a friendship bracelet. from where you're from, you make them for people you care about, so they can have a piece of you with them every day. it's usually a tradition for children and teens, but you thought it would be fun to give him the bracelet regardless. you were just thinking about him (and his lonely childhood-- but you don't say that part aloud) and how he didn't really do stuff like this when he was young... so maybe he'd appreciate it now? you start to feel a little silly by the end of your explanation, so you look up at him to try to gauge his reaction.

you would have thought you proposed with how touched this man looked.

his expression softens and his eyes go wide. he puts out his hands to take the gift and you hand it over. his face quickly splits into a grin as he inspects each individual knot and string. did you really make this? he's impressed. look at how lovely it is! he raves about the quality for longer than necessary (it's not that good, mind you) as you flush from all the praise.

you offer to tie it for him and his eyes sparkle. truly, you never thought he'd enjoy a gift like this that much-- nonetheless, you're incredibly flattered.

how did you make this bracelet? what material is this? will you teach him how to make one, too? how often is he supposed to wear this?

the last question makes you chuckle. honestly, that's up to him. you tell him about that time you wore a friendship bracelet all summer one year, until it was a frayed biohazard that stank up the whole room. you recommend taking it off for showers and activities that might get it that dirty-- please, diavolo, learn from your childhood mistakes-- but other than that, he can wear it whenever he feels like. you assure him that your feelings won't get hurt if he doesn't, but he quickly reassures you that he definitely plans on wearing it.

... and he is not bluffing when he pledges this commitment to you. diavolo will wear his friendship bracelet all day every day, only taking it off when absolutely necessary. that does not include formal meetings or events. he is wearing that damn bracelet. what are they going to do, call him out? he's the fucking demon king (well, close enough).

Barbatos

you present barbatos with the bracelet one day when you've joined him for an afternoon in the kitchen.

he's carefully explaining how he gets the texture to this pastry just right-- there's a clear balance between airiness and moisture, you see-- while you try to listen. you can't help but let your mind wander as he talks. doesn't he know this friendship bracelet is practically burning a hole in your pocket?!

"mc, are you listening?"

he's looking up at you with expectant eyes, and you feel yourself flush in embarrassment. you barely get alone time with him as-is, and here you are, wasting it! you apologize and explain you've been a bit distracted. he welcomes you to share (if you are so inclined), pausing his work to give you his full attention.

it's now or never. you can either be brave, or you can walk back to the house of lamentation with your tail between your legs!

you present the butler with your creation-- a green and black friendship bracelet-- with a small explanation of what it is. you feel juvenile presenting an ancient demon such a childish gift, but he accepts your gift with a nod and a small smile. barbatos sets aside the gift for the rest of the day, careful that it won't get soiled by the mess of ingredients as he continues his baking lesson.

you assume barbatos has stored in somewhere out of sight-- you'd like to think he cares enough about your feelings to keep it, but you have also never seen him wear it. you're starting to feel like an idiot for even gifting him such a silly thing in the first place. he's arguably the second most powerful demon in the realm. he doesn't have time for a chintzy little bundle of strings from some insignificant human!

you're at the castle one day on another retreat with the rest of the house of lamentation residents. in a chaotic scuffle with one of his brothers, mammon manages to knock an open bottle of demonus directly into barbatos' chest. the butler sighs and begins to take off his coat while lucifer is moments away from tearing mammon into thirds.

as he opens his jacket, you spot it.

pinned inside the front of his jacket is, undoubtably, your bracelet. you recognize that striped pattern from a mile away. you can't forget the embarrassing amount of time you spent toiling away over cheap embroidery floss (not to mention the several mess-ups you had to throw out). you almost can't believe that's where he's been keeping it all this time.

barbatos catches you staring at the bracelet and gives you a small, secret smile. he leaves the jacket open for a moment longer-- it's like he knows, like he's letting you commit the image to memory-- before folding it neatly in his arms. he turns on his heel and walks back to his room before you can react further.

you're a little bummed to see him go. after all, that bracelet was probably ruined in all the liquid-y chaos from a few minutes ago. yet when he returns, adjusting his jacket one last time, you swear you see a flash of green and black string.

maybe it was just your imagination. and maybe that knowing look on his face was, too.

Simeon

you've found the clump of tangled embroidery floss in your closet among things you've brought from the human world. you aren't really sure how it got there, but you've got some free time to kill-- why not try to make one of those friendship bracelets you had growing up?

it starts out in your head as a stupid little joke. who among the people you know here would be the most accepting of a dumb little gift like this?

... simeon, probably. i mean, the guy's an angel. isn't being gracious and kind part of their whole schtick?

as you weave the threads together, you feel yourself get excited. simeon means a lot to you. he's been there any time you've needed him throughout the entire exchange program, always there to lend a hand or a listening ear whenever you so desire. you don't get to see him as much as you'd like, seeing as he lives all the way over at purgatory hall, but you feel you're close enough to give him such a gift.

you catch him after class at RAD one day. you don't have time run by purgatory hall after school, and you're worried if you wait much longer to give him the bracelet, you'll somehow lose or destroy it. when you approach, he's all smiles.

"mc? to what do i owe the honor?"

you ask if you can speak to him alone-- nobody misses the suggestively suspicious look solomon tosses the two of you-- and he leads you to a quite corner of the hallway.

suddenly, this whole thing feels very silly. but, at this point, you've already dragged him away from everyone, so you might as well go through with it.

you pull the blue and white friendship bracelet from the pocket of your uniform and offer it out to him. you explain that it's a friendship bracelet, something that human kids usually exchange as a show of friendship and devotion. you were in the mood to make one the other night and thought he might appreciate it. there. that didn't sound too cringe, right?

your gaze slowly lifts from your hands to find simeon in as disheveled of a state as you. his cheeks are flushed and his face is frozen as he processes your explanation. then a slow, delighted smile spreads over his cheeks.

out of everything to happen today, he definitely did not anticipate this happening. yet he couldn't be more pleased. he gives you his thanks as you tie the bracelet around his wrist-- over his gloves, so he can show it off to everyone, he tells you.

what did you say these were for? an expression of friendship? he's touched that you'd include him in an intimate human ritual like this (it's not that deep, but his smile makes you bite your tongue). would you be willing to stop by purgatory hall sometime soon so he can learn more about it? he loves any story you tell, after all.

you part ways with identical grins and a promise to meet again sometime soon. simeon assures you that he'll take care of the bracelet-- it's very special, you know, since you're the one that gave it to him.

and take care of it he does. every time you see him, he's wearing that bracelet. it looks nicer than the day you gave it to him! you're surprised, until satan reminds you simeon's always wearing white. clearly, he's good at keeping things clean.

he wears a big ass white cloak all day, every day. you think a little bracelet is going to trip him up? nah. simeon values your gift-- the gesture, the time you put into making him the bracelet, the skill it took to make such a pretty little thing-- too much to let an ounce of dirt sully his favorite present.

Solomon

hey, solomon. you want a friendship bracelet?

he looks up from his school work to eye you curiously. you two are on opposite sides of a table in one of RAD's many libraries. you're supposed to be studying, but you got bored fifteen minutes ago and haven't been productive since.

you pull a bundle of embroidery floss out of your pocket and spread it out on the table. a rainbow of colors sits mostly untangled-- you've been trying all day, but some knots are simply too stubborn-- across the smooth wood, and across the materials you should really be studying right now.

got a color preference, sorcerer boy, or am i going to have to give you the ugliest combination i can think of?

he laughs and tells you to do your worst. are you actually going to make one, though? how do you even remember how to do that? he admits he's never actually had one before. you tease him for being a lonely old man. he teases you right back for being a dweeb who wastes brain space on how to make gifts for third graders.

just for that comment, his bracelet's going to be ugly. and you won't even try to make it not lumpy, too. in your face, peepaw.

you get to work weaving the strings into a particular pattern of knots. you've chosen snot green and tree bark brown, paired nicely with a subtle hot pink for a more elegant look. slowly but surely, you start forming the stripes of the bracelet. you can feel his eyes on you, but for once, you decide not to tease him. you're feeling generous today, after all.

when you finish, you tie off the lose end and untape the other from the front of your textbook-- that's certainly the most useful its been to you all day-- with a victorious little smirk. he's still watching you work. you've succeeded in distracting him as well, congrats! it's what he deserves for dragging you into a half an hour argument between levi and asmo last week for no other reason than to see you struggle to keep the peace. karma's a bitch, and seeing this ugly ass bracelet across his wrist will be the cherry on top.

you instruct him to hold out his wrist and he complies. you start tying the ends together, careful not to permanently knot it around his wrist, when--

"wow, you actually made it for me. does that mean we're best friends now? i guess i'll have to brag to those brothers about it, won't i?"

you feel your life flash before your eyes. suddenly, you can hear it in your mind-- seven overlapping voices arguing, louder and louder, for you to make them a friendship bracelet as well. nothing will satiate their jealousy with each other. it's like entertaining a horde of toddlers: a gift to one is an insult to the rest.

oh. oh shit.

you're on your feet before you can speak. suddenly, maybe you don't want solomon to have that bracelet anymore. but he's always five steps ahead of you. literally, in this case, seeing as he's already taken off towards the other end of the library. oh hell no.

you manage to catch up to him eventually, and the afternoon devolves into you (playfully and consensually) bullying each other over the gift.

for all his big talk, he does actually wear the bracelet every day. you think that it's mostly to make you worry that one of the brothers might ask about it-- and that's definitely a big part of why he does it, seeing as he smirks every time he catches you looking at it-- but you think there must be a part of him that actually likes it, ugly color scheme and all.

it's solomon, remember? horrible chef, spellcaster to varying degrees of success, general menace to society. that bracelet is filthy in a matter of days. what's worse, though, is that he also has a terrible habit of breaking or losing it. this would be fine under normal circumstances. no harm, no foul, right? but every three to four business days, whenever he breaks it or covers it in mud or loses it somewhere in the hallway, he's up your ass for you to make him a new one.

what can he say? you're besties, aren't you? that's why you made the bracelet in the first place. now chop chop, mc, his wrist feels naked.

Luke

you visit purgatory hall after school one day, a pep in your step and a bright smile on your face. a few of the brothers question your giddiness as you head out (mammon especially didn't like that you wouldn't elaborate where you were going or who you were seeing), but you make it to your destination unscathed and unfollowed.

when you walk in-- you've had an open invite to visit whenever since the early days of the exchange program-- you spot luke baking in the kitchen. he calls out to you from his spot near the oven and invites you to try this cake he's been working on. barbatos taught him the recipe last week, and ever since, he's been working hard to perfect his version of the dish.

you spend a few minutes playing taste tester for the little angel before you get his attention. you've got a gift for him. the anticipation is starting to kill you, so you'd like to get it out of your hands.

you open your palms and reveal your present: a white and gold friendship bracelet. you explain that it's usually a gift kids in the human realm give each other.

... probably the wrong wording, considering who you're giving the gift to.

"is this because you think i'm a child? now you sound like lucifer! listen here, i'll have you know i report directly to archangel michael, who--"

you let him continue his little rant until he gets it all out of his system. when he's done, looking at you expectantly for some sort of rebuttal, you grin and explain the real reason for your gift. you think of luke as a close friend, and you wanted to give him a gift familiar to your culture that communicates that with the world.

an embarrassed flush spreads over his cheeks as the cherub realizes he might have jumped to conclusions. he sheepishly smiles at you and asks you to tell him more.

you tie the bracelet onto his wrist and explain all your favorite childhood memories with gifts like these. every friendship bracelet, each matching necklace you got with a childhood friend, all of those little mementos of friendships past still sit in a box in your closet. you might outgrow wearing a yarn bracelet (or it might have grown filthy over the years with all your sticky-fingered adventures), but you'll never outgrow the memories behind them.

luke asks if he can see them some day. will you tell him more stories if he visits you at the house of lamentation? you smile and agree-- so long as he doesn't get gobbled up on the way there. now he's protesting again. he's not a child! (whatever you say, luke).

by the end of the evening, you've explained the knotting patterns you used to make the bracelet. luke tells you to watch out-- he's gonna make you such an amazing bracelet, just you wait! you grin, already excited to show off his little creation.

[churipu]

I LOVE HOW YOU WRITE GOJO !!! could i request him having a girlfriend that's really good in the kitchen? like both cooking AND baking !! i can imagine him getting a sugar rush (from her !!) because she tried recreating (and succeeded) his favorite kikufuku from scratch 🩷 and she's probably worrying all the time if the stuff that she makes is good because she just cooks and bakes "for fun" and not as a full time thing 🥹

SUGAR RUSH ! — GOJO SATORU + A GOOD COOK GIRLFRIEND

featuring. gojo satoru

warning. none :)

note. hii anon! <33 i absolutely love this, i can just imagine him being so happy about having a really good cook girlfriend. i hope this is to your liking, have a great day anon! and to you readers, have a big fat sloppy kiss mwah!

"baby, did you make this yourself?" gojo asks you, taking a bite out of the kikufuku mochi you made him this afternoon.

he had opened the freezer a few minutes prior to look for anything he can nibble on — and oolala he came across a tray of kikufuku he doesn't remember being there. but having a good cook of a girlfriend, he wasn't even surprised anymore, he's just very delighted to have his very own homemade kikufuku made by yours truly.

you nodded your head, "do you...like it? tell me how it tastes, i've been working on it for a while now so i'm not sure how it would taste."

"like it? i don't like it." gojo mutters out, eyeing you.

you didn't take things to the heart quickly, you've always believed that failing is a process of learning. so you chuckled, "don't worry about it, i'll try making another one for you. was it too sweet? or was the mochi skin weird on texture?"

gojo grins, "baby, i love it! you really should think about opening your own restaurant — i'll even fund it, no kidding." he tells you, taking another bite out of the kikufuku mochi.

opening a restaurant has been a long time dream. and gojo knew, but there are a few reasons to why it hasn't opened up till' now, you weren't confident with your own cooking. no matter how many times gojo told you about how good they are — you still think they aren't restaurant worthy yet.

"maybe next time? i don't think i have the time for it now," you were technically speaking half the truth.

you had a stable job that pays well (not as much as gojo who's a jujutsu sorcerer, but still enough) — you landed a job as a baker, so you all you needed to do was follow your boss' recipe and everything was settled.

"you can just resign and...focus on this one, hm?" gojo slithered his arms around your waist, pressing kisses on the side of your face— in a way on encouraging you, "i'll even help you, 'm sure it's going to be a great hit!"

you chuckled at his statement, "maybe in a few years, satoru?"

the male whines, burying his face into your neck. he'd never understood why you always tell him that, no matter how hard he tried to convince you about opening a restaurant, you'd decline saying that it wasn't time yet.

but gojo, he could see right through you like an open book. the problem wasn't it being "the wrong time", it was how you weren't confident with what you've made; despite him telling you thousands of time that what you made never fail to amaze him with your cooking.

you sometimes think he was saying that just to make you happy.

cooking for gojo has been a daily routine, he never asks for you to do it — you just liked cooking so much that you made it your job to always make sure he's full. knowing he has a sweet tooth, especially for kikufuku, you try your best to make them for him.

it was quite hard to nail the dessert on the first few times. but like everyone said: "practice makes perfect" and sure enough your hard work pays off, he does enjoy the kikufuku you took long to perfect. and your heart feels full.

"a few years? that's too long," he whines, "how about now?"

you laughed lightly, "you're cute. if you wanted to taste my cooking, i can just make it for you, y'know?" gojo laid his chin on top of your head and grumbled.

"i want the whole world to taste your cooking," he mutters out.

how sweet of him.

"aren't I your world?" you found yourself spouting out non-sense just to try to avoid the same topic yet again — gojo sensed so, and he didn't push on with it. if he finds you avoiding it, it just meant one thing; you didn't want to talk about it, it wasn't that hard to understand, really.

gojo nodded his head, "good point. you are my world," he laughs lightly, kissing the top of your head, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

if you could see his face right now, you'd be worried. gojo satoru, the strongest, had his brows furrowed and a frown on his face, he was worried about you. a lot. sometimes he just wants to cup your face, give you kisses and tell you that you're the best cook he has ever met, he was pretty damn sure he's heard you saying how you weren't a good cook because you do it as a hobby and not professionally — or along the lines of that.

"satoru, i'm trying to put these kikufuku in the freezer or they'll fall apart," you softly lets his arms go, "you can snack on these later if you're hungry. or maybe you could bring them to the kids too, i made quite a lot."

by kids you meant yuuji, nobara, and megumi. gojo being their teacher also meant you having a lot of meetings with the trio — and they have been nothing but sweet to you, sometimes you find yourself packing food for gojo to bring for them.

"good idea, i'll give it to them so they know how much of a good cook you are. yeah? maybe they'll help me convince you to open your very own restaurant," you laughed lightly, shaking your head at his idea.

gojo puckered his lips out, "if you don't want to open a restaurant then at least let me have one more kikufuku. last one, promise."

you shook your head, putting the tray of kikufuku inside the freezer, "you've had four! you'll get sick," gojo puts his hands on either side of your waist, carrying you to the side so he could make his way to the freezer, "hey!"

"the only thing i'll be getting is a sugar rush, angel."

"oh god, that's even worse than you getting sick," gojo turns his head to look at you, his cerulean eyes narrowed, "i am not taking care of you if you get sick, you hear me?"

gojo arched a brow, "you said that last time, and the only person who stayed by my side the whole entire time was you," he pinched your cheek gently with a large grin, "you'll take care of me, will ya'?"

knowing he was right you let out an exasperated sigh, "you're silly. don't eat more or i'll stop making them for you— i'm just afraid you'll get a sugar rush tonight. don't you remember the last time it happened?"

gojo scratches his nape with a nervous smile. a few weeks ago, you made a big strawberry swiss roll — and the male managed to chow down on it in a matter of hours. late at night, he was wide awake, babbling about how much he loves you and then proceeded to list everything that he loves about you from a to z.

it was quite sweet of him, but still: you needed sleep. as a result, you barely gotten any sleep at all and had to go to work exhausted; although gojo did apologize for his nightly sugar rush, and tried to make it up to you by "cooking" for you, which ended up disastrous as he had gotten distracted by a tv show in the middle of his cooking. no foods were served that night so you both had to get take out.

and you had to throw out your favorite non-stick pan because of that.

you appreciated his effort though (and this time he made it up to you by purchasing a pan set — which he told you was a token of his apology for ruining your favorite pan and for his sugar rush).

"hey, i was showing my love to you. and plus, you got a set of brand new pan because of my sugar rush," gojo defends himself with a smile, leaning onto the kitchen island.

"in an exchange for my exhaustion, i almost passed out at work," he gasps out dramatically.

"why wasn't i informed of that? oh my god, 'm a monster." he talked to himself, which you weren't even surprised of anymore, so you let out a soft chuckle.

"kidding. but no— i'd never like to see or hear your sugar rush anymore, i have work tomorrow. i'll be fine if it's the weekend," i poked his side, walking away.

gojo grabbed your arm, pulling you close, "what if you don't have work tomorrow?"

you arched a brow in confusion, "but i do."

he smiles ever so sweetly that it was starting to get suspicious, "oh, i know! i was just asking, y'know?"

"o...kay then?"

gojo, that slick motherfucker, called your boss and told her you were sick and wouldn't be able to come tomorrow. and so— began the restless night of his episode of sugar rush and just the tenth thousands of "i love you"s from him.

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !

[justawritterwithideas]

Boy Wonder and the Rockstar | s.r

✩ previous part | next part ✩

summary: The BAU rushes to Washington after discovering that the lead singer of a famous band may be in danger, causing Spencer to come face to face with his past after 15 years.

general warnings: this series contains topics such as mentions of death, alcohol, drugs, strong vocabulary, as well as talk of heartbreak, disappointment and arguments. It also contains content regarding CM season 13, so it clearly contains spoilers.

chapter warnings: this chapter contains mentions of murder, vomiting, mistreatment, as well as the use of strong vocabulary. this is a spencer reid x famous!reader story.

words: 4,269 words.

a/n: hello! here i come with the second chapter of "boy wonder and the rockstar", i had fun writing this chapter as i also suffered from lack of creativity ( T T ), but finally inspiration touched me. I hope you like it. Remember to read the chapter cautions and have a good read.! English is not first language, so I may have mistakes, if so, I'm sorry. :(

𝟎.𝟐: 𝐌𝐲 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫.

For many people, memories that are related to times in their lives relate to certain aspects of the five senses, whether it's certain sounds or textures, music that brings them back to that exact memory, or simply tastes of foods that remind them of what their loved ones used to make.

For Spencer, it was smells.

Despite possessing a memory that makes him remember even the smallest detail of what happened the day before, his olfactory memory was much more developed than other senses.

During his childhood, or what he considers childhood, his memories smelled of the pages of old books that his mother read to him and her perfume, impregnated in the bed sheets when they sat together to read some classic of literature. When he was in his youth, sometimes the smells reminded him of the charcoal in his pencil, writing mathematical exercises on white sheets, or sometimes the smell of chlorine, because of the thousand times bullies forced him to go to the bathroom.

But during his college days, he always thought that the smell that would be his favorite was the soft smell of the library, of wood and humidity; but no, those memories had the smell of freshly brewed coffee, cherries and menthol cigarettes.

His good memories always brought smiles to his face in the middle of nowhere, as if he was remembering one of those old bad jokes they used to tell him and he couldn't find the humor in them, or maybe the less thought out answers to such logical questions. His good memories caused his stomach to clench tightly and his chest to feel heavy, as if a stone was replacing his heart.

Spencer knew why. Why his body felt that way.

But he didn't want to admit why.

Because if he admitted it, he knew the only reason he did would make him regret it, he would have to give reason to his sentimental side than the rational side.

And he hated not being right.

"Spence."

J.J.'s voice brought the boy back to his desk, taking his eyes off the nearly iced coffee with a pound of sugar to keep him awake.

He'd been daydreaming about Y/N's laughter in his ear for nights now, just like when they had sleepovers at her apartment. He couldn't get her out of his head, let alone get the smell out of her hair when she was the small spoon.

"What, what's going on?" the opposite replied, looking at the blonde. She seemed to be trying to decipher what was going on in her friend's head.

"I'm asking you, is something wrong, are you sleeping well?"

"Yes." Bullshit.

"Are you sure? Your eyes say otherwise." The black circles under his eyes gave him away.

"I've been sleepless for a few days, but it's because my neighbors won't let me sleep." Another bullshit.

"You should talk to them, you know." The boy nodded, giving the blonde an elongated smile and returning to his paperwork.

"Really all right?"

"Yeah, J.J. It's fine."

"'S okay, you know what you can tell me."

"Yes J.J., thank you."

The answer didn't leave the blonde satisfied, but she made an extraordinary effort to ignore his attitude and return to the desk with Luke and Matt, who had been staring at him for a couple of minutes.

"He's rambling again." Commented J.J as she returned, who kept her eyes on her best friend and tried to figure out what was wrong with him.

It was usual at this time of year, when the leaves were beginning to turn their last summer colors, that Spencer would go blank staring at a spot in the room more than once.

No one quite understood why that happened to him, the only one who knew was Gideon. But he never shared any of Spencer's secrets, not even if a gun was held to his chest.

"Guess whateee, my dear friends!" The conversation was interrupted by a cheerful and enthusiastic Penelope, who commanded everyone's attention with her sonorous voice.

"What's going on, Garcia?" Luke turned to see her, who was coming with an envelope in her hand.

"Your genius did it again, rub the wishing lamp and I got tickets to the best concert of the year - Paradox in Virginia! Can you believe it?"

"You got them!?" J.J. was the first to startle, coming closer to see the tickets for the most anticipated concert of the year.

"That's right, my dear friend! A girls' night out to see Paradox. You, me, Emily and Tara."

"No way, god. I'll talk to Will and rest assured I'll be ready for that night." J.J smiled hugging her friend's arm.

"What's Paradox...?" muttered Luke, causing Matt to turn to look at him. The poor Luke was trying to comprehend what his friends were talking about.

Was he too out of date on pop culture or were they speaking in some kind of secret code?

"Oh Luke, why did you ask that?" Matt shook his head, earning a glare from the blonde couple.

"What did you say, newbie, don't you know what Paradox is? Oh god, no way. I'll have to bring you up to date with a course on what today's music is right now, follow me." Penelope motioned to the boy, who turned to see Matt who was lifting his shoulders laughing.

"No Penelope, you're not going anywhere. We have a case, and it's urgent. There's no time, meeting room now."

The rest of the people turned to look at each other, abiding by their boss's orders as they saw her so anxious and serious about a case.

That didn't look good at all.

The adrenaline and euphoria of last night's show, plus the last two dates, had been enough of a stimulant for Y/N to fall asleep in bed once they arrived at the hotel. Her whole body was exhausted, and at that moment all she wanted was some chamomile tea and a thousand hours of sleep.

She loved her job, of course she did! But she was mentally and physically exhausted from giving almost 15 concerts without a break, from one state to another, with more cups of coffee and energizers in her body than times where her eyes closed to sleep.

And the only time she found peace and quiet was when her body was being moved from one location to another, so, at that moment, her body was resting in the comfortable seat of the SUV after being driven to an interview and returned to the hotel to rest.

She felt her limbs meld with the seat, feeling like she was in heaven itself where her muscles all over her body were relaxing after days.

Her peace didn't last long when she heard a soft call.

"Psss, Y/N."

The, now, blonde heard the call from Felix, also known as the band's drummer and her best friend.

"What? You ruin my beauty nap."

"What did one wall say to the other?"

Y/N could hang him right then and there.

More the tiredness in her body made her think, trying to devise the best answer to get him to leave her alone.

"What?"

"I'll meet you at the corner."

"I'm having the biggest self-control to not kill you because you just interrupted the only moment of peace I've had these past three months, asshole."

"You haven't been able to sleep?"

Y/N denied with her eyes closed, desperate to get back to her attempt at sleep.

"Not a single moment, I woke up three times last night and that was the best attempt at sleep I've ever had."

"Your pills aren't working?"

"They're placebos, they won't make my body calm down just like that and go back to my eight hour sleep cycle that I'd had for the last two years without touring." The young woman opened one eye, looking at her friend. "I just have to get used to it, I have to get back to the cycle of excitement I used to have when it was tour after tour."

"Maybe if we talk about that thing that bothers you-"

"No way."

Y/N knew what he meant, knew it was talking about a certain doctor who gave her goosebumps every time she thought about him and took her back to her college days.

Why was she still thinking about him? It had been almost 15 years since they last spoke.

Y/N looked at the date on her phone.

No, she was wrong.

It had been 15 years since they last spoke.

Today was 15 years since she had received the last letter from Spencer with her name written on it.

The last time she felt the smell of his perfume on the sheets and his ugly doctor's handwriting on a sheet of paper.

The last time she saw written "wherever you are, whatever you do or whoever you are with, you are always on my mind and in my heart, Y/N."

Last time she saw written "Love from Quantico, dr. Spencer Reid. I'm also known as your #1 fan, but only you know that."

Was that the reason she hadn't slept well that night? Yes.

Was that the reason she hadn't slept well for that last week? Yes.

Was that the reason why, every time she closed her eyes, she saw him smile? Yes.

Was she going to admit it? No.

Never.

"Y/N..."

"I don't want to talk about it, Felix. Don't insist."

"But, Y/N-"

"Let it go, Felix. Really, don't insist." Tyler's voice made Felix turn to look at him angrily.

Tyler and Shawn, the guitarist and bassist respectively, shook their heads and made an "X" symbol with their fingers, muttering at the same time "don't do it, don't be stupid."

"Enough kids, let it go. In two days we have a very important concert to give in Seattle, so I don't want any fights."

"You heard him, Felix." Y/N smiled opening her eyes, looking in the direction of Gerald, her manager.

Thank you, Y/N murmured in the man's direction.

Gerald just raised his shoulders, noticing how the van parked.

"Okay, down."

Tyler and Shawn were the first to get out, followed by Y/N and then Felix.

Felix hated to come off as meddling in Y/N's life, so whenever he meddled too much in the girl's life, he simply knew that seeking forgiveness from her was his best option.

"Sorry Y/N, I didn't mean to insist."

"It's okay, Felix. I know you meant no harm, but I don't want to talk about it."

"And when will you?"

"I don't know, I guess when I'm ready."

"It's been 15 years, Y/N."

"I know, but I'm still not read-"

"Miss Autumn?"

Y/N turned to see the receptionist, who was holding a package.

"A package has arrived for you."

"Thank you, do you know who brought it?"

"No miss, I'm sorry."

"No worries, thanks again."

Y/N received it, walking to the elevator along with Felix after seeing how the package had a sticker on it that said "express delivery."

"What did you order, compulsive shopper?" Gerald turned to look at her, causing Y/N to deny in confusion.

"Nothing that I know of, I promise."

"Maybe it's a collaboration, Tiffany's already started putting the ads with your face all over it." Shawn smiled, elbowing the arm of the store's new ambassador.

"A gift for you to occupy at the next gig." Gerald replied, nodding softly as he looked down at his phone.

The box was small and covered in the typical plastic they place around it. Compact enough to drop a set of jewelry on behalf of the brand, but it seemed odd that it came directly and without warning.

The group made their way to the small meeting room where they had set up everything they needed, ready to hear the itinerary Gerald had prepared for them about their upcoming events.

Y/N's fingers went to open the package once it was placed on the table, watching as  the "Tiffany & Co." logo on its little sky blue box.

"Okay guys, tomorrow you have rehearsal from noon until three in the afternoon, then you'll have an interview on a radio station near the sta-"

A beautiful gold ring with a navy blue gem in the middle was the first thing that caught the young woman's eye, perfect for the occasion. But it was heavier than usual.

"Then you can go eat and rest, we'll still have dress rehearsal, so you can get ready-"

A shout coming from Y/N deafened the group of people, causing them all to look in her direction.

Her skin was as white as paper, her eyes fixed on the box she had just opened and her face with an expression of pure terror from an experimental horror movie.

All eyes went in the direction of the box, which Y/N felt like everything she had eaten that morning was going to spew out of her mouth right then and there.

"Shit."

The beautiful ring encircled something.

A human finger.

A human finger that stained the bottom of the box.

A human finger that was accompanied by a note.

"I hope you enjoy my gift, my sweet star. I made it just for you, good luck at the concert."

"This morning at the Queen Elizabeth Hotel in Washington, the lead singer of the band Paradox received a package. Inside was a human finger with a ring on it." Emily was passing around the photographs that had been sent by the Washington police, it showed just what she had just described above. "According to the receptionist it was dropped off by someone from a package store. The police questioned him and he said it had arrived with yesterday's load of packages."

"From where?" Luke asked.

"They don't know, they collect packages from all over the country so they don't know where it came from. They're looking for the tracking code of the branch they sent it from."

"How grotesque, who would send such a thing to an artist like her?" Tara looked at Emily, who sighed.

"But what do we have to do with this case?" Rossi looked at his tablet, zooming in on the picture of the ring.

"The DNA results came back to find out whose finger it is." A photograph of a stranger appeared on the TV screen. "He is Bruno Colombo, an Italian artist and the owner of that finger. We just got word that his lifeless body was found in his art studio."

"He's Autumn's ex-fiancé." Penelope commented, surprised at all that was going on. "In 2016, he and Autumn got engaged after dating for two years, but after a few months it was discovered that the engagement ended after Autumn discovered him and an art gallery owner having sex in his studio. According to him he did it because he wanted to make an exhibition that would portray Autumn's true feelings, and this way he could see her feeling of anger and sadness. There are still people who idolize him for that."

"What a jerk." Matt muttered.

"And how come no one noticed his absence?"

" According to this, he was isolating himself when he was setting up exhibits so it wasn't out of the ordinary for him to suddenly disappear."

Spencer felt his heart pounding, why would he get like this over a clear case of a stalker obsessing over a music star?

It's not like he even knew her.

"Apparently, this relates to a series of related cases over ten years that the only common element is this band, Paradox. No one has ever linked them before as none of the modes of operation are the same, the only factor that unites them is the viciousness with which they are carried out and the band, of course." Emily sighed, showing the various faces and deaths that surrounded them.

"Race or religion has nothing to do with it, it seems neither does gender." Spencer commented, quickly reading each of the bodies found. "But it looks like they all had an encounter with the band or one of the members. From 2008 when the first body was found until now."

"The director asked us to take on this case, the level of this band is insane and it seems to be going against the vocalist, Autumn. They are currently on a world tour after two years of no activity, plus not much is known about her in general." Emily turned to look at Penelope. "Garcia, you're joining us on this trip. You serve us better back in Washington than you do here at Quantico. Reid and Lewis will go meet the M.E., the rest of us will go to the station and then we'll all go to the Queen Elizabeth Hotel, we'll meet the band and their manager." The whole group was surprised, especially Penelope who held a surprised expression. "Wheels up in 30."

Y/N always thought that the whole thing about having human parts shipped to you in a box was part of fiction. At best, news fiction.

But what she had just experienced was surreal.

Her body was shaking with a cup of tea in her hands, feeling her hands stinging around the cup.

"Who the fuck would send something like that to Y/N? No one we know is capable of doing anything to her, they would fuck up their careers if they were exposed like that." Tyler turned, annoyed, in the direction of Y/N. "Who did this to you, are you hiding something from us?"

"No, Tyler. I'm not hiding anything, why would I hide the fact that someone sent me a fucking human part on my name to a hotel in the middle of our comeback tour? You're blaming me for something, huh? Tell me to my fucking face, Tyler."

Y/N stood up in exasperation, letting the hot water spill onto the floor.

"I don't know, you tell me, Y/N. If you got sent a finger."

"Go straight to hell, Tyler. Right straight up." Commented the girl raising her middle finger.

"Enough! Both of you." Gerald's loud voice interrupted them, separating the band's strong personalities. "Right now we can't fight. They just sent a fucking human finger to Y/N, we can't get mad about that, we should be worried."

"Finally someone with sense." Y/N sat back down, setting the cup aside.

"What are they seeing so much of us, why aren't they doing anything? They should be looking for the person responsible." Felix got up walking towards the officers, being stopped by Shawn.

"Hey, they're doing the best they can. If we go in there and raise our voices, we're going to hinder the investigation, don't be a dickhead."

"Damn it, this can't be happening." Y/N stood up, starting to walk over to her purse to pull out a cigarette and place it between her teeth.

"You can't smoke in here, Y/N." Gerald's warning went in one ear to the girl and out the other, flicking her lighter. "Y/N."

"What, look at the shit we're in, I just got sent a fucking human finger from who-knows-who and you're asking me to keep my cool!? I can't! There's a crazy person out there sending me that shit with 'nice words'." The girl threw the lighter at who-knows-where, finding herself on the verge of an anxiety attack. "Don't fuck around and leave me alone to have a smoke, Gerald."

The group fell back into the same silence that surrounded them four hours ago, letting the cigarette smoke flood their nostrils.

They were desperate, they needed to get to the root of this.

Y/N knew it. Right now she was the eye of the hurricane, who that box and message were addressed to; the same person who had sent her that, had taken it upon himself to send her flowers and letters with the same nickname, "my sweet star."

At first she thought it was nice, of course it's nice when you get your favorite flowers along with letters of good cheer and best wishes, but it's not nice when you get a gift like today's.

But her attitude would get her nowhere, she was annoyed and exasperated, but they didn't deserve that kind of treatment.

"I'm sorry, but this is too much for me, I can't handle this alone and my attitude isn't helping anything. " Y/N commented, taking her eyes off her cigarette and looking at the people closest to her. "We should be in this together."

"I'm sorry, kid. I got upset that I couldn't help you, that you didn't know who sent you that." Tyler sighed, giving the girl a rueful smile.

"Don't worry about it, Ty. I'm really sorry, everyone."

The girl took another puff on her cigarette, letting the minty flavor cool her lungs.

"The FBI is here."

The announcement made everyone look at each other, taking their last breaths and letting Y/N finish what she was doing, the only thing keeping her sane at that moment.

"I'll see you downstairs, okay?" Felix left a kiss on the young woman's forehead, taking his leave to get on the elevator.

Y/N found herself alone in the room, again feeling disgust rise in her throat. She couldn't get the image of that package out of her mind, how was someone capable of writing those sweet words and sending something as grotesque as that.

The girl's hands gently stroked her cheeks, waking up and she shook her head. She would make one last stop to the bathroom before heading downstairs, so she could go more consciously for who-knows-what things would make her talk.

The BAU met up with a group of people who, thanks to the way Penelope was getting excited, could be sure it was Paradox.

All along the way, Spencer had listened to Garcia's theories and who it could have been. He loved listening to her talk, but his head was somewhere else, somewhere else but there.

Something inside him sensed something, something he wasn't sure what it was. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or maybe it was his thoughts of the past that had been running through him since morning.

"Agent Prentiss, I'm Gerald Murphy, the manager of Paradox." The man shook hands with the woman, who was looking over his shoulder at three people. "These are the members of the band: Tyler, Shawn and Felix."

The three let out a wave into the air, giving them a smile of sorts.

Spencer knew they weren't entirely happy they were there, he read it in their body language.

"I understand there are four of you in the band, here I see three." Emily looked directly into Gerald's eyes.

"Yeah, Autumn, the vocalist, is upstairs finishing something. But she's coming down now, right?" Felix nodded, watching the FBI agents.

Felix crossed glances with Spencer, feeling that familiar air from somewhere.

Spencer felt that familiar air too, but maybe he thought his mind was playing tricks on him.

"Please, let's go somewhere more private. That way we can talk more quietly."

Gerald motioned to the three men, who plunged inside the room, followed by everyone else.

The BAU settled down in front of the four people seated on the couches.

"If you like, we can wait for Miss Autumn." Emily glanced at the group, all of whom nodded.

"It's for the best, she's the most affected." Felix looked in the direction of Tyler and Shawn, who simply nodded in unison.

"You've never received anything like this before?" Luke directed his question at the group of people, causing Tyler to let out a sarcastic laugh.

"You think that's a normal thing to receive, a human finger? Please, be realistic."

"Tyler, shut up." Shawn motioned, slapping the young man's knee.

"That's a stupid question of his, since when is getting shit like that going to be normal?"

"Tyler!" Shawn gave him a stern look, turning his gaze back to Luke. "I'm sorry, we're touchy about this that just happened."

"My question was out of line, it's my fault." Luke admitted, turning to look at the rest.

"When is Autumn getting here?" Felix's question seemed to work magic, smelling her best friend's signature scent.

A strong smell of cherries and menthol tobacco made Spencer shake his head.

It wasn't time to remember Y/N, it wasn't time to focus on something like that.

It felt like his head was playing a joke on him, as if she was suddenly here. But the smell didn't go away, in fact, it intensified to the point that Spencer could feel his head hurting.

"Sorry I'm late."

Spencer felt his entire body freeze, as if he were turning into an ice cube.

The voice he thought he would never hear again.

The voice that escaped so much in his dreams.

He could hear it there, like an echo in his head.

His head turned, catching the figure that had just entered with some haste.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Autu-"

"Y/N."

The girl looked up, meeting Spencer's hazel eyes.

No way, Y/N thought.

Her heart stopped, as did the time around her.

Standing in front of her was a much older and mature Spencer Reid, but with that same lotion that made her dizzy.

The woman's mouth opened slightly, feeling the air in her lungs catch and no words came out of her mouth.

Her lip quivered, her pulse altered.

"Spencer."

Oh fate, how cruel did you have to be?

@alexa-33 | @ahhhhyesk | @imthefuckingleader | @narmothewraith | @kneelforloki | @niyahwhoreworld | @lexie0037 | @deadunicorn159 | @corpsebridenightamare | @preciousbabypeter | @sakuramadae | @zzz000eee | @runefirestarter | @sebastiansstanswhore | @whateverrrrrrrrs | @xsarcasticwriterx | @chris-seb-marvel | @bellaramseygfsblog | @lillysbigwilly | @dezibou | @astrophileous | @ily2lia | @sophiario | @valenftcrush | @oxace-of-heartsxo | @spencerrxids | @w31rdg1rl | @ineedsomezzz | @yeehawbitchs | @coolstories66 | @baku-hoes-blog

If you like it, don't forget to like and repost it.

a lot of love, alme. ❀

[inf3ct3dd]

ellie headcanons pt.5!!!

warnings: nada

content: loser!ellie x reader headcanons

authors note : ellie dug a hole into my skull and moved in

⁃ against bags for no reason. like her pockets are constantly full of things. random receipts, money, headphones, EVERYTHING. she takes her pants of and they jingle cuz they're filled with COINS.

⁃ knows how to do a back bridge and just HAS to let everyone know. you're watching tv and she's just on the floor like "look"

⁃ i feel like shes the type of person to just start fully eating an orange in the middle of class. like ur listening to the teacher talk and you're just hit by the most aggressive wave of CITRUS from behind you

⁃ constantly fighting the air... like she's just in the kitchen punching and kicking at NOTHING just because. she's always coming up to you and like take punching you and doing her own sound effects like “PWAH PWAH WAM WAPOW"

⁃ jar hoarder 😞😞 every time you buy anything that comes in a jar she's keeping it. literally won't let you throw them away!!! you guys don't even have cups anymore, its just jars and mugs.

⁃ speaking of mugs, ellie has just as many stupid mugs as she does stupid tshirts. absolutely has a lot of garfield mugs be she LOVES GARFEILD

- would buy a dry-erase board for your fridge and leave u little notes and drawings

⁃ "Every single time I see you, I become horny like a triceratops" with a little drawing of a triceratops"

⁃ breaks into incoherent ramblings when shes sleepy... like insane hypotheticals

"what if our bed just completely exploded right now"

⁃ whenever ur on facetime and it gets quiet she just breaks out into song. not even like good, trying singing but BAD SINGING.

⁃ she does that whenever it's quiet !!!

⁃ is listening to music CONSTANTLY. her headphones are actually attached to her ears like all DAY she's listening to something.

⁃ HATES THE BIG LIGHT (iykyk) she lives for low/ natural lighting definitely has so many lamps and led lights

⁃ can never sit normal.... like she is not beating the gay ppl sitting weird allegations she sits so ODD

⁃ will spend literal hours in the pool. doing flips, pretending to be a mermaid, 'making up' her own tricks, she lives for it & !!!

⁃ refuses to dress right for the weather. it'll be like 90° outside and shes in a whole hoodie and jeans.

⁃ has the WEIRDEST subway order. probably puts banana peppers on her shit 😭😭 she swears its the best thing ever

⁃ love's campy comedy movies, esp lesbian ones and horror movies (but im a cheerleader, bottoms, scary movie, etc) also def loves coming of age movies

⁃ has a letterbox account and makes extremely thought provoking reviews

literally her

⁃ always taking candids of you, and they're literally her favorite pictures

⁃ every time she sees two things next to eachother she's like "oh my god it's literally us!!"

⁃ one time she crashed her car and it literally fully flipped over and she just crawled out of the trunk and called you like "you would NOT believe what just happened to me."

- absolutely a waffles girl she needs the texture she likes the CRUNCH

⁃ but like she also loves bacon pancakes. like she's obsessed w adventure time and she makes bacon pancakes ALL THE TIME and she sings the song while she makes them

- eats trail mix like all day....she buys the giant jars and you make fun of her cuz she "likes eating nuts"

⁃ the most secret swifty ever. like she refuses to let it be known but she fully sobbed when she listened to folklore for the first time

⁃ obsessed w those baby sensory videos. like she will literally be entertained for hours

⁃ LOVES the lego movies, esp lego batman

⁃ the MOST honest shit talker ever like you'll be like "yeah she's just a really bad person" and she'd be like "she's also like disgustingly hideous...

⁃ her search history isn’t even weird or gross its just…random. like she’s definitely googled “how do cotton candy machines work” before

⁃ family guy enjoyer.....

⁃ her cf story is like insanely long n its filled w random memes she reposts and insane ramblings

taglist!!!! if ur name is crossed i can't tag u :((

@syrenada @dinaissoprettyoml, @kingofmylastkiss @as2rid @greencacty @melissabarrerass @bratydoll @lov3lylotus @forelliesposts @echostinn @f3r4Ifr0gg3r @r3wbeef @leatheredhearts @mousymaven @mina-281@princessguardian444 @calystas-morning-tea @horror-whoree @slutshies @bearieio @mag-mfm @bubs-world @paran0id0blivi0n @sawaagyapong @bbygrIshelbs @gayh0rr0r @p|9ys @ellieslilsIvvt @dollietes @elliesmellsbadd @ibloom4u @ddreabea @beestar120 @brunettedolls-blog @girlwonderchloe @elliesgflol @maris-koffin @emonopolyman @iloveeyousblog @fr3sh-tragedies @ilovaffles @certifedcrybunny @elleatethat @baldph0bic @clouded-whispers @4rt3m1ss @saggykneecaps @swtsuna @ellesslutt @minixmel @yuyans-stuff @owmoiralover @thecowardwrites @lunascerebro @elliestrwbrry @iwantsoda @teeveegirl @dinasmoon @urnewghostfriend @k3ym4ra @bratzboydoll @ungodlyvenus @lav3nd3rhaze @scokslvoer @iloveunrealpeople @realwinehouse @nehemiahlicious @onedeaddreamer @teawithnosugar @r4t1ku5 @villainousbear @mentallymarriedtonatasharomanoff @gay4tiddies @uraesthete @lil-elliesgf @neighborhood-houseplant @sagessensationalstuff

[starleska]

Can we have your Wally headcanons please!!

of course!! 🥰💖 now, we're at such an early stage with Welcome Home that these headcanons may prove to be wildly silly or OOC, but that's okay!! i hope they make you smile regardless 💖 feel free to run with these headcanons all you like!!

Wally Darling headcanons (with a touch of x Reader 😉)

⭐ Wally has a highly reduced sensitivity to pain. that relaxed, soothing voice isn't the only reason why Wally is so calm and collected - the fella wouldn't notice if you stabbed a fork through his hand! as a puppet in a soft, rainbow-filled world, this quirk rarely causes Wally problems. however, he has been known to stay out in the sun for far too long and not notice he's become terribly sunburned, or to inquisitively examine a fun new bug and be totally ignorant of stings, bites, or allergic reactions. luckily, Wally has a wonderful set of pals by his side who are always quick to help him out when he's in trouble! 💖 ⭐ Wally has a large soft toy collection. there's not a single character amongst the Welcome Home gang who is neurotypical, and Wally is no exception! our favourite puppet artist has an assortment of cuddly friends tucked away in different nooks inside his Home: stuffed animals, plush painting utensils, and of course, his special interest: apples! Wally's a sensory-seeking guy who enjoys tapping and rubbing particular textures, and each of his soft friends caters to his favourite fabrics and sounds. many of these toys are gifts from his wonderful neighbourhood pals, and he's generous enough to let his friends cuddle any of his plushies - especially when they're not having a great day. feeling down? Wally will come to the rescue, ready with a plethora of silly jokes and an armful of squashy friends! 🧸 ⭐ Wally's favourite artistic subject is You. we all know that Wally is the resident artist of the neighbourhood, even amongst all of his craft-inclined pals. he's drawn, painted, sculpted, modelled and created every kind of item you could think of: flowers, animals, fruit, furniture, imaginary friends and more. yet the first time Wally meets you, he is immediately fascinated with your distinctive look: your style, your face, your eyes. he apologies for staring, and tells you that with your permission, he would love to paint you - you are simply made for the canvas. although at first you're flustered by the process (Wally's eyes are so dark and intense), you soon find yourself relaxing under his gaze, becoming comfortable with him and his gentle wisecracks. nothing compares to the sheer delight you felt when he gifted you his final portrait: a beautiful, flattering, colour-drenched rendition of you. you return home that night with your heart all a-flutter, thinking: if Wally painted you so prettily, how must he feel towards you? 😳 hope this is what you were looking for, anon!! these are really fun to do - feel free to send in asks, headcanons or ideas, i'd love to write some more for Wally 🥰💖