#gets my ass back on etsy........

[socialbunny]

recreations of two rare merch (bumper) stickers that i made awhile back just for fun :3

[pup-pee]

he is the dirt under my fingernails

[wabblebees]

its hitting real "i want a damn suit" and "i want a damn corset" hours around here folks

[neverendingford]

.

[neganium]

The crushing dilemma of needing to do one thing, but also really really wanting to do another, bc it might be advantageous to me; but also not really having the time to do either of these things bc I'm dallying on which one I should prioritize. hh.

[whimsyprinx]

gonna use some of my tax money this year to finally send out some of the gifts I’d been collecting for people

[aestheticaltcow]

Six Months

An attempt at some parenthood angst?

Similarly to the title, this fic has been in my WIP folder for a minute; it went through a handful of edits. I'd like to think this is good enough for y'all.

The Bear Masterlist

Next part

 

Carmy sat in the office staring at the paperwork Sugar needed his signature on; when he saw the date on his phone, it hit him—today marked six months. Six months of parenthood and six months of celibacy, to say Carmy was sexually frustrated, was an understatement. “Hey Carm, did you- are you okay?” Sugar asked when she caught him staring blankly at his phone. He didn’t respond until she put her hand on his shoulder. Her touch snapped him out of his trance. He looked at her before quickly apologizing, “Sorry, what were you sayin'?” Sugar grinned as she patted his shoulder, “You okay, Bear?”

Carmy nodded and straightened up in his desk chair, “Yea- just thinkin’ bout the baby.”

Carmy got home from work late. He quietly slipped his jacket off, and hung it on the coat rack before removing his shoes. Walking down the hallway, he slipped into the nursery, knowing the baby would be asleep. He found it impossible not to be happy in her room. The walls were decorated with vintage floral wallpaper you’d bought off Etsy, it may have been a pain in the ass to put up, but Carmy happily obliged when he saw how happy it had made you. He crept to his baby girl’s crib and felt the day's stress disappear. She was peacefully sleeping in a light pink sleep sack, furiously sucking away on her pacifier. “Sweet dreams, princess,” he whispered. “I love you.” 

The joy of watching his daughter sleep faded away as he approached the askew door to the master bedroom the two of you shared. “I’m home, baby.” Carmy grinned as he walked toward the open closet door, “Hi, Carm.” you called from the bathroom. When he entered the bathroom, you were brushing your teeth. As the mix of salvia and toothpaste residue dripped from your mouth Carmy’s breath hitched- was this enough to get him goin’? He shook his head as he pulled his shirt off and threw it in the laundry hamper before turning on the shower.

“How was work, babe?” you asked before bringing a small cup of mouthwash to your lips. Carmy watched as you swished it around your mouth and spit it into the sink. “Carmy?” you asked again; he swallowed. “Yeah, uh, it was good. Busy,” he answered as you hopped up on the counter. You were desperate for adult interaction after being home with the baby all day. 

“Mia, have a good day?” Carmy questioned. You nodded, “We did some laundry, then had mashed pears for lunch- she did. I had that leftover pasta sauce you made... Read a couple books and went on a walk... Then did her bedtime routine, and I worked on that stupid documentary I was telling you about.” 

As you recounted your day, Carmy nodded, but he was staring at your chest, barely hearing what you said. You’d been wearing one of his old T-shirts. He noticed how prominent your nipples were under the soft, worn-in material. He was captivated by the fullness of your breasts, and he’d do just about anything to touch them again. “Carm, you okay?” you asked, hopping down from the counter; he nodded. “Wanna get in with me?” he asked cocking his head in the direction of the running shower. You giggled, “Maybe next time, bear.”

“Oh fuck-” Carmy grunted as he worked his hand up and down his length. He felt like a teenager again, masturbating in the shower before going to school. However, now, instead of imagining the unrealistic scenarios he’d see in pornos, he had memories of you. Carmy thought back to the last time you’d really touched him. Heavily pregnant, hormonal, begging for his tongue and his cock… he’d expected a shift in your sex life as the two of you adjusted to parenthood, but this long of a dry spell was the last thing he’d expected. Carmy squeezed his eyes closed as he came down the drain.

~

“Good morning, princess.” Carmy cooed as Mia squirmed in her crib, trying to get out of her sleep sack. She spat her pacifier out and let out a gruggle. “So it’s one of those mornings?” he chuckled as he unzipped her. He watched her stretch before carefully picking her up, “See, you’re okay.” he rocked her gently before exiting the nursery and heading downstairs. 

You were making coffee and prepping a bottle for Mia as he entered the kitchen. “You’re off today, right?” Carmy nodded in response before handing you Mia. “You goin’ to work?” he questioned, as he got two mugs from the cabinet. You groaned in response, “Jenny called off, so I have to go in. I’ll be back before bedtime.”

“Well, looks like Mia and I are havin' some Daddy-Daughter time,” you smiled as Carmy gently kissed her head before going to get the milk from the fridge. When you’d met Carmy all those years ago at some trendy Chicago bar, you found him incredibly alluring. His disheveled curls, the mix of some musky cologne and cigarette smoke, the way his T-shirt wrapped around his muscular arms… he’d always been… sexy. But watching him interact with Mia was a different kind of attractive.

Carmy drummed his thumbs on the handlebar of the grocery cart. He scanned the shelf before him as Mia happily made her baby noises as she looked around the aisle. “Okay, princess… they don’t have almond extract. What kind of grocery store doesn’t have fuckin’ almond extract.” Mia put her hands out to Carmy, grabbing at the air. Carmy chuckled and ducked to kiss her cheek.

“Oh my gosh, she’s too precious.” a sickly, sweet feminine voice cooed from behind Carmy. He grinned when he turned his attention to her, “How old is she?” she asked. Carmy got a good look at the woman; she was pretty, but she wasn’t you. “Oh, uh, she’s six months,” he answered as the woman stepped closer. She smelled like cheap vanilla and a mix of flowery scents Carmy couldn’t place. Mia glared at the woman, and Carmy scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’m Selena. I’m in this parenting group. You should stop by.” she smiled as she looked him up and down. The attention made Carmy regret not regularly wearing his wedding ring. “I’m not really the par-” Carmy started to say before Selena cut him off. “I’m not takin’ no as an answer. What’s your number?” she handed him her phone. 

Carmy didn’t know why he gave her his number- could he blame it on feeling uncomfortable? Was that even the right thing to do? It’s not like he’d ever do anything with this woman. He’d never throw away his marriage to you by hooking up with some woman he met at the grocery store. The reality of Carmy's actions didn’t hit him until he was in the checkout line. He gave his phone number to another woman- was that cheating on you? Did doing that in front of his daughter make him a bad father? “Okay, your total is $63.82.” the cashier smiled. Carmy nodded and swiped his card. He needed to get out of there as quickly as possible so he wouldn’t run into Selena again.

~

It had been a couple of weeks since Carmy’s interaction at the grocery store. He’d noticed Selena’s text messages here and there. They seemed innocent until one Friday night, he was working late, you were home with the baby, and Selena had sent Carmy an explicit picture, hoping it would get his attention.

We’re both parents. 

I’m not looking for anything serious, Carmy…

My son is at his Dad’s place

Come over <3

Carmy stared at the messages before his eyes went up to the attached photo. Selena had the hem of her T-shirt between her teeth, showing off her toned stomach. He swallowed as he admired the contrast between her skin and the brightly colored fabric of her lacy underwear. He should block her. He should just delete the messages and block her number. He had a wife and baby at home—he couldn’t make this kind of mistake. He locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket before returning to the kitchen cleanup, “Hey Carm, I can finish this up. Go home.” Sweeps grinned as he attempted to connect his phone to the Bluetooth speaker on the counter. Carmy grinned, “You sure, man?” Sweeps nodded assuringly. “I think I can handle this boss man.” 

You heard Carmy walk into the bedroom that night, “Hey babe!” you called as you put your blowdryer in its designated spot by the sink. As the bathroom door swung open, Carmy’s lips were on yours. The initial shock wore off as Carmy’s tongue invaded your mouth, and his hands pushed under the hem of your sleep shorts to grasp at your ass cheeks. Carmy pulled you closer to him, forcing you onto your tip toes. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers delicately tangling in the roots of his hair. The passionate kiss ended when Carmy started to kiss down your jaw. A giggle escaped your mouth as his lips brushed against your earlobe before he nipped at your neck. “Carm-m what got into you?” you croaked as you adjusted your hips against his.

 “I need you, baby,” he muttered, lifting you off the floor. You squealed as he crashed down onto your mattress. He hovered above your body, staring into your eyes. “I need to be inside you, baby.” he swallowed hard as you bit your lip. “Carmyyy,” you giggled as you watched him pull his t-shirt off. You ran a finger down his chest, making him moan softly.

 “Let me make you feel good, baby…” Carmy whispered in your ear as one of his hands found its way into your oversized sleep shirt. Your breath hitched when you felt his calloused fingertips graze your ribs. " I-I—" you studdered nervously. “Baby…please.” Carmy quietly asked as his lips brushed against yours. “No.” you whispered as you grabbed his wrist through your shirt, “What?” Carmy questioned as he stood up abruptly, “Did I do something? We haven’t done anything in like six months- clearly I did something wrong. Just tell me so I can fix it!” Carmy raised his voice as his eyebrows knit together in frustration. 

You propped yourself on your elbows and watched as he picked up his shirt from the floor, “Carmen, please don’t yell at me.” you said calmly. You watched as he rolled his eyes and paced before you, “Baby. I want to have sex with you. I need to have sex with you-” Carmy groaned as he pushed his hands over his face into his hair. Your eyes narrowed, “Carmen. I had a baby-”

 “I KNOW! I fucking know! You had my baby, but now you don’t even want to fuckin’ shower with me! I get it- pregnancy was hard, and then giving birth was hard, and now being a mom is hard.” Carmy started staring at the ceiling while he expressed himself. He took a breath and turned to look at you; regret washed over him when he noticed you were on the verge of tears. “Baby, please don’t cry…” he pleaded as he knelt by the bed. He reached for your hand, but you pulled away before he could grab it, “Sorry, I don’t want to fuck you after taking care of your baby all day.” you spat. Carmy closed his eyes and took another breath trying to compose himself before saying something dumb, “How dare I fail to meet my wifely duties.” you angrily laughed as you stood up. 

You crossed your arms over your chest and stared as Carmy got up. “Baby, I didn’t—" you cut Carmy off with a groan. “Shut up, Carmen. You don’t get to speak to me like that.”

Carmy sighed and stepped closer to you, as he reached out for your hips only for you to slap his hands away. “Don’t touch me.” you glared at him, “Fuck this.” Carmy muttered under his breath as he pulled his shirt back on over his head. “What do you mean ‘fuck this’?” you questioned as Carmy exited the bedroom, “I need air.” Carmy called back to you.

You moved to your bedroom window to see Carmy walking toward his car in the driveway. He got in and pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket. 

Send me your address.

[k0ff1n]

Skully headcanons (both general and relationship stuff)

The parts with the reader are gender neutral, also there is a point that could be considered nsfw I think but it's really just general stuff so nothing much really.

-English isn't my first language so sorry if there are errors and other stuff that simply ain't right and I hope you enjoy :)

+So first of all we know that he isn't from the world that hosts Halloween town, meaning he doesn't dress like that... probably. Personality wise I'd say that he only has energy when he is 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 excited about something, usually a topic that he really likes, but other than that he'd probably be kind of laid back. Like the Kaworu Nagisa type of laid back, he talks and stuff, nods and smiles but doesn't really express emotions in a really... 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘺 (this phrase makes sense in my head please bare with me).

+Now I fully believe that he probably dresses in two ways, no in between. We can have the fancy version of him, probably on those days where he feels motivated enough to wear something nice, and those are the only times where he wears some type of goth outfit, then we have the 𝘶𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭 version of him, the one where he's probably wearing a random cardigan with the most hideous Halloween design anyone's ever seen in their entire live. You know those 90s cardigans, the hand knitted ones with the different patterns randomly sprinkled on the base, yeah, those beauties.

+Now let's be sincere, he's probably autistic. He seems to not really understand "standard" social cues, like when he kisses everyone's hand and they are basically disgusted, also when in Halloween town he hugs grim and Epel(?) just because of how excited he is and they are 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺 dying inside but he doesn't even seem to notice lol. Now the most noticeable part is also the one where he only talks about Jack and the related festivity, it literally feels like a special interest, the kind that sticks with you for all your life and you can't really get out of your sistem. Also we know that no one really likes him or talks to him in his real world, which is unfortunately the reality of many neurodivergent people, often considered weird or annoying by others. I mean all the neurodivergent people I've met always had similar experiences, me included so yeah, I mean he also basically states that so.

+With this said I imagine him to be the type of person that tries to keep his interests to himself but fails horribly every time someone gets close enough and he thinks he can finally open himself up. Now we all know how that would end (not in a nice way) , meaning that he probably hides himself in the realities from different books and movies he likes. I firmly believe that the reason he was so happy to finally be in Halloween town was because he imagined so many times to live there without the trouble of other negative people that he felt as if he actually belonged somewhere for once.

+Now since this is getting depressing I'd say that if he had a partner he would probably need someone that either shares the same type of interests as him or simply has enough time to listen to him rant about his hyperfixations. I'd say that the first one would probably still be better because he'd feel as if someone finally understands him and gets why he likes certain things so much.

+Probably collects weird and creepy things, could be old stuff he found in a thrift shop or taxidermies he made himself or bought from some shop on Etsy lol. I see him as the type of guy to yes, love Halloween, but only a certain types of decorations, I mean the old/vintage type would be perfect but if you ever try to get him close to a basic plastic pumpkin (like the basket kind for trick or treat) he would probably start talking in an annoyed and frustrated way about how society ruined the original version of the holiday and stuff like that.

+Type of guy to listen to those long ass YouTube videos with the low quality image as thumbnail that last for more than two hours but include old songs that no one ever listened to, probably including the ones that 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘦𝘥 those songs.

+If he actually had a partner he would probably be clingy af, not in an annoying way but like a cat that's always around you way. I don't think that in public he would display that much affection, probably afraid of other people seeing him and judging once again, but when in private he would probably be constantly near you or touching you somehow, be it hugging you when watching a scary movie on the couch or if he's helping cooking something and suddenly you feel him speak in you ear, scaring the shit out of you because he somehow doesn't make any noise when walking.

+Has the worst eye bags you've ever seen in your life, the type that even if you put a red base and then the green and concealer or whatever they 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 fade away. They would probably only make him look good considering that be surely (to me at least so sshhh) wears at least a little eyeliner or eyeshadow. I dont think he was dry lips, even if the og image gives that impression I have a feeling that it's like those cracked type of lipsticks that you put on in layers and stuff.

+One again, if you share interests he would probably sing various tunes with you, be it the songs form the nightmare before Christmas or things like confrontation form the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde musical. I can see him dramatically move around his room while singing a certain part and then looking at you like you hung the starts in the sky when you start singing the next part, even if you suck it doesn't matter really.

+I don't think that he's asexual but at the same time I don't think he'd be really interest in sex stuff anyway, like maybe sometime but more like vanilla things, he doesn't even look like he has the energy to keep up any fancy type of performance let's be fr. Would kiss you and whatever, sometimes make out if you have the time and actually feel like doing something like that, but generally I don't think that he would care much about there things.

+Probably has a pet, not sure which one but the possibilities are: a cat, more cats, rats (named Jack and Sally obvs) or some type of ferret. Not really a dog type of person even if he likes Zero. He probably doesn't have the energy to keep up with an animal like that even if he wants to.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Aita for not taking down a jokey sign on my bathroom door when my parents came over?

Cw: talk of diarrhea. Not explicitly.

So I (21f)and 2 of my friends (20f,lets call her lilly and 23m, lets call him matt)moved into an apartment about 2 years ago and so far, everything has been good. We've been able to manage our bills, keep a clean home, I couldn't ask for better. We've known each other since middle school, there's ackward moments and small disagreements when Matt brings over his boyfriend (he almost always yells when he speaks and slams doors) but everything is generally all good.

Every apartment shared by more than one gen z is gonna have some quirks and ours is the "code brown" sign. Me and matt have IBS and occasionally have some mild to moderate.... Bowel problems and there's only one bathroom. Usually it's not a problem but there's been a few occasions where someone will be taking awhile scrolling tik Tok or whatever or taking a long shower and me or Matt have an issue.

Originally it was a group chat half joke warning that someone was having a "code brown" and no one could lolly gag in the restroom because one of us might be making trips. It became an inside joke and last year, lilly had a cheap small hanging sign made by some wood burner on Etsy that basically read on one side "All clear, private!" and on the other read "Code brown! Get going or get down!". It was hilarious and we hung it on the bathroom door and now use it unironically. All our friends enjoyed it, Matt's boyfriend loudly so but not so much my parents.

About a week ago, I finally allowed my parents to check out my place. They aren't super Christian like evangelicals but my dad has been going red pilled and more so by the day so I tried to make my apartment look less like it was shared by three liberals and wore something nice and cooked a nice dinner. I paid for lilly and matt to go catch a movie and some Wendy's on me so they'd be out of the house. All was good until my dad went to the bathroom and came back with the damn sign looking like his head was going to explode. He screamed at me that he thought I was an adult, that I was failing at getting my shit together (they don't pay for anything and i live on my own?) and I was a child for hanging up such a clearly inappropriate sign. My mom agreed, though much less Intensely and my dad proceeded to break the sign over his knee and chastise me for a good 20 minutes before grabbing his things, demanding an apology in a few days and leaving with my mom.

Once lilly and matt got home I apologized and offered to buy a new sign. Lilly and Matt were just happy nothing else was broken and I was ok. I did eventually apologize to my dad because I can see where a poop sign might be a little inappropriate for important company but tbh I forgot about it and I was so busy making dinner I didn't realize it was still up or I would of tossed it in my room and moved on. Lilly and Matt just say my dad has a stick up his ass and shouldn't of messed with the sign(it was flipped to the no code brown side so he had to flip it to see it).

Was i the asshole for not taking down a gag sign about poop when my parents came over?

What are these acronyms?

[indifferent-depravity]

Stress Relief

Minors DNI 18+

cw: unnegotiated choking (do your research and talk to your partner first folks!), semi-public sex, angry Carmen

gif made by me

A/N: don't forget requests for everything are open so if you'd like to see anything from me feel free to drop it in my ask box :)

buy me a coffee!

help me escape abuse

my Etsy shop

~~~

“What the fuck is going on?”

Somehow your voice cuts through Carmy’s near-frantic screaming, bringing the whole kitchen to a standstill. Even Carmy shuts up, looking over at you, chest heaving. You cross your arms, glaring at him. “Carmy, office.” You say firmly, voice raising again when he doesn’t move, “Now, Chef!” He unfreezes and stalks towards you, the veins in his neck becoming visible as you gesture towards the office.

You follow him in and slam the door shut, taking a deep breath as you wait for the noises of the kitchen to start back up before you whirl around to glare at him. “What the fuck is your problem, Carm? Do you want them to walk out?” He keeps his eyes trained on the ground, his hands curling and uncurling into fists. You huff and step into his line of sight, bending to force him to look at you, “Answer me, Carmen! Do you want them to wa-“

You’re cut off as he wraps a hand around your throat, backing you up against the desk. Carmen leans his face close to yours, anger contorting his features as his grip tightens around your throat, just enough to make your breaths come out in gasps. “I wouldn’t yell if they weren’t fucking idiots. It’s like they do it on fucking purpose,” he says, a cold, harsh tone lacing his words as he forces your head back.

He bites along your jaw, soothing the sting with his tongue and you whine, your anger melting as your cunt starts to throb. His free hand slides up the inside of your thigh, rubbing you through your pants. “Take these off,” he orders sharply and you bite your lip,  hands falling to the button of your pants, fumbling for a second in the small space between your bodies.

The second your pants fall to the floor, Carmen pushes his hand between your thighs again, groaning as his fingers glide through your wet folds. “Figures. Such a little whore for me, huh? Little pussy getting wet from my hand around your throat.” You moan weakly, eyes rolling back as he sinks his fingers into your core. The stretch sends shocks of pleasure up your spine, a tightness growing in your stomach with each pump of his fingers.

Carmen pushes a third finger inside of you and curls them, a smirk growing on his face as you shudder under him. He grinds his palm against your clit as his fingers speed up, a wet filthy noise filling the small office as he forces you over the edge with another curl of his fingers. Tears burn your eyes and you writhe under him, a fire burning through your veins as he fingers you through your orgasm.

He brings his fingers to his mouth, staring you down as he sucks your wetness off them. He releases your throat long enough to spin you around, pulling your hips back against the hard ridge of his cock. His hand finds your throat again as he frees his cock from its confines, sliding the head through your folds. “Is this what you wanted when you came out and yelled at me, little slut? Needed my cock in you so bad you’d disrupt service for it?”

You whine, shaking your head even as your hips push back against him. Carmen lets out a mocking laugh, teasing your entrance with the tip, “No? Is that why you're pushing your ass out like that? Because you don’t want me to fuck you?” Tears fill your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks as he pulls you back against his cock, slowly filling you inch by torturous inch.

His hand tightens around your throat and he sinks his teeth into the place where your neck meets your shoulder, pulling his cock out until only the tip remains before slamming his hips forward, filling you in one smooth thrust. You cry out, hands hitting the wall as he starts up a punishing rhythm, your knees weakening with each glide of his cock.

“Tha-at’s it, sweet girl, y’like that don’t you?” He growls in your ear, running his free hand down your body. You hiccup out a cry, nodding the best you could with his hand around your throat, a fuzzy feeling filling your head as you fly towards another orgasm. You crumple the flyers tacked to the wall as the dam breaks inside of you with a shudder, tears finally falling down your cheeks as your head falls back against his shoulder.

Carmen hums, loosening his grip on your throat as he nips and sucks marks along your jaw and neck. His fingers find your clit, pressing quick, tight circles against it as he fucks into you roughly. Your knees buckle as you’re pushed into a third orgasm before you can recover from your second. He wraps his arm around your waist, easily keeping you upright without stopping his movements.

He moans into your ear, thrusts becoming frantic as he chases his own pleasure. His chest heaves against your back, low moans falling from his lips as he nears his end. He sinks his teeth into your shoulder as he pushes his cock as deep as he can, filling you with his seed with a grunt. Carmen slumps over you, keeping you pinned against him as he catches his breath. Heavy breathing fills the small office, only broken by the clatter of pans coming from the kitchen, bringing you back to the present. He pulls out with a sigh, turning you to press a gentle kiss to your lips. He kneels in front of you, helping you ease your pants up your shaky legs. You clumsily maneuver to the desk chair, gripping Carmen’s hand tightly as your legs threaten to give out.

He tucks himself away and leans down for a quick peck to your lips, “Thanks, baby.” He’s gone before you could answer with the gentle click of the door shutting. You snort, shaking your head at his antics as you hear him back in the kitchen again, calmer than he had been all service.

Once you regain control of your legs again, you go back to the front to help Richie with orders, giving him a smile in greeting. He lets out a low whistle, not caring to hide the way he stared at you. Your eyebrows pinch together in confusion, “Can I… help you?”

He laughs, abandoning the sandwich he was wrapping to poke at one of the marks on your neck, “No, I just figured out why Carmy came out of the office in a better mood, that’s all.” Your hands fly up to your throat, a deep blush staining your face as you hurry to the bathroom. Flicking on the light, you groan at the sight of the dark marks littering your neck, bruises showcasing a set of teeth already setting on your shoulders and neck. The kicker is, and this is what made you yell Carmy’s name, a clear outline of his hand wrapping around your throat.

You duck your head into the kitchen on your way back to the counter, a scowl growing on your face when you spot Carmen innocently working, nothing to show for the way he just fucked the life out of you. “Carmy, I’m going to kill you!” He looks up long enough to give you a cheeky smirk, winking at you before turning to the stove with his back to you.

You’re grumbling as you return to the counter, tugging on your collar as if you would be able to hide the marks with it. Richie sidles up beside you, “So, how long has Carmy been a choker? Because me and Mikey, we figured him as a vanilla type.” You groan, thumping your head against the counter, lifting a hand to flip him off. He laughs and pats you on the back, “Y’know maybe we should make some scarves with our logo so next ti-'' You cut him off by jabbing your elbow towards his stomach and he jumps out of the way with a laugh. “C’mon sweetheart, I’m being helpful!”

You lift your head to level him with a glare and he starts laughing harder, pulling another groan from your lips as you drop your head back down onto the counter, “Shut the fuck up, Richie!”

[laurenairay]

Costume party - L. Draisaitl

Summary: finding the perfect couples costume was turning out to be harder than you thought.

The sixth of my Autumn & Halloween blurbs! There’s no way Leon isn’t the most competitive about costumes.

Word Count: 631 words

Tagging: @fallinallincurls @starshine-hockey-girl @lam-ila @kurlyteuvo @tonyspep

@cixrosie

~

One of your favourite times of the year was Halloween. It always had been, but ever since you started dating Leon, it was one of the highlights of your social calendar. The team party especially was always so much fun, mainly because of the costume competition.

Well, competition was a loose term. There were no prizes, no official judging, but it was a matter of pride among the team, and this meant you (and the rest of the WAGs) got swept along into it.

Leon was particularly competitive (who could’ve guessed), and as always he wanted to be the best. And look the best, naturally.

The two of you had spent weeks deciding on your couples costume. There were initially ideas of going as a big group costume with multiple other people, or in a small group costume with Connor and Lauren, but in the end it boiled down to the two of you doing things by yourselves, which was more than fine with you.

Leon had been particularly picky this year though, crossing off ideas from your list with ruthless abandon:

Mario and Princess Peach.

Colin Bridgerton and Penelope Featherington

Beetlejuice and Lydia Deetz

Barbie and Ken

Elizabeth Swan and Will Turner

Jessie and Woody

All of them were decent ideas, and you know the two of you could have easily pulled them off, but your boyfriend wanted something that he knew for certain no-one else on the team would do. Which is how you ended up with your final choice - Rapunzel and Flynn Rider. Leon’s sister had been ranting about having to watch Tangled on repeat thanks to her children, and the idea had struck a chord with Leon, and it hadn’t taken much to persuade you.

Leon had ordered a dark green tunic, billowing white shirt, loose brown pants, and mid-shin high brown boots from a professional costume maker. Apparently he’d used her in previous years through Etsy and now ordered directly. So naturally you’d put in your order with the same costume maker, ordering a pale lilac corset dress with beautiful ribbon detail as well as flower and vine stitching on the shoulder-puff sleeves and hem. On your own you’d found a realistic long blonde wig that you’d arranged for the maker to braid with flowers, as well as buying some lilac silk ballet pumps and a plastic saucepan to hang at your waist. It wasn’t too over the top, but you felt like you’d put in enough effort to get the compliments you deserved. The two of you were going to look amazing together, you knew that much. Especially as Leon had grown out his hair a little to give it that swoopy Disney effect.

“How do I look, liebling?”

You glanced over your shoulder, a wide smile instantly spreading across your face as you turned around to face him properly. Leon was leaning against the doorway all nonchalant, but you could tell his eyes were serious about your approval.

“Very dashing, Flynn. Or should I say Eugene?” you teased.

Leon just laughed, a note of relief sliding in, and he strode forward to peck a kiss to your lips, letting it linger as you tilted your head up.

“You look amazing, just so you know,” he murmured.

“I’d better. This wig and this corset dress took long enough to arrive,” you mused, fighting the heat that rose to your cheeks.

Leon took your hand, stepping backward just enough to spin you around under his arm, making you laugh as you twirled, lilac skirt flaring out perfectly.

“Amazing. Beautiful. Du siehst perfekt aus,” he said smoothly.

Charmer.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” you grinned.

“Good to know,” he grinned back, knowing full well what complimenting you in German resulted in.

“Shall we kick some costume party ass then, Flynn?”

“Absolutely, Rapunzel.”

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

ok but now I need more Joel and reader neighbour domestics??? Like him leaving her a post it note with his internet password and him helping her feed the cats and she helps him with his plants and setting up the damn skeleton and then throwing neighbourhood barbecues together 🥺🥺🥺

okay so i literally couldn't rest until i wrote these up so if my assignments are work are late, i'm blaming you.

title: in a feud with her neighbor - bonus scenes

read the main work here

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x female reader

rating: PG-13 (mild language)

word count: 1084

summary:

Fluffy bonus scenes for "in a feud with her neighbor" as suggested by anon!

Content warnings/tags: not a standalone work, pre-outbreak, no sarah, established relationship, still pretending the 12 ft skeleton existed in 2003, joel gets his butt grabbed by a neighbor. This is pretty much just fluff.

“The internet is out again,” you whine. You’re in your bed with Joel, the man turned on his side facing away from you. He looks over his shoulder, eyes narrowed.

“Good. Go to sleep,” he grumbles before burying his face back into the pillow that is now his pillow. It always smells like ocean salt and eucalyptus, while your own pillow smells like lavender and vanilla.

The sheets, however, are a beautiful combination of both.

You huff but reach over to your nightstand and turn off the lamp. You scooch in closer to him, snuggling up to his back and spooning him. You let his deep breaths lull you to sleep.

The next morning, Joel’s already left for work in the early hours of the morning, a kiss pressed to your sleep warm skin as a goodbye. When you shuffle into the bathroom to get ready, there’s a pink Post-It with familiar messy handwriting stuck to the mirror.

GetYourOwnPassword03

-Joel

________

There’s a package on your porch when you get home from work. You tear into it immediately, pulling out the new planters you bought as a surprise for Joel.

They were an Etsy find, a set of three white planters that say “WHAT THE FUCCULENT”, “LOOKIN’ SHARP”, and “DON’T BE A PRICK” and a bigger planter that reads “PLANT DADDY”. You giggle as you line them up on the counter.

Joel sees them when he comes over that evening, freshly showered and already wearing his pajama pants and your favorite threadbare shirt. He can barely stop laughing long enough to thank you.

“PLANT DADDY” sits in a place of pride by his front door, glued down to the concrete so that the cats can’t knock it over.

________

Joel is a grill master. He will spend a ridiculous amount of time at the deli, scrutinizing every package of beef while you hang onto the cart and wither away like a suffering Victorian woman. 

“Joel, please, I’m begging you,” you say, “just pick the steaks.”

“Hush, sweetheart, I have a process,” he replies, not once looking away from the two packages of New York strip he holds. 

“Just get both!” You beg. “Lots of steak! Great compromise!”

He glares at you. “We have to make a good impression.”

“A good impression on who? They’re our neighbors. They already like us! Half the moms in the neighborhood want to fuck you!”

Joel nearly drops the steaks. “They what?!”

You can’t breathe because you’re laughing so hard at the shocked look on Joel’s face. He sets both packages of steak in the cart before grabbing the handle from you and leaving you in tears in the deli.

Later that night, Joel finds you in the crowd and grabs your arm.

“I think Mrs. Matthews grabbed my ass,” he says. 

You pull him close, slipping a hand into the back pocket of his jeans and giving him a peck on his lips.

“Told ya,” you tease.

________

Joel watches the Home Depot website like a hawk as soon as September hits. His buddy who works at the store said that online orders would open within the first couple of weeks. Finally, the button turns from gray to orange, and he places his order immediately.

When it’s delivered a few weeks later, you’re so excited that you ask Joel to set it up immediately.

“It’s not even October yet, baby. Can you wait another week?” He asks. You pout, but you agree. Only if he’ll set up both skeletons on the first day of October and not wait until the last minute like he did the year before.

Which is how he finds himself teetering on the top rung of his ladder, trying to set the skull on the frame while you watch from the ground. When he finally gets it screwed on, he’s slick with sweat and cursing up a storm.

“How’s that look?” He asks when he gets down from the ladder and stands beside you.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, tugging him into a kiss. 

“It’s perfect.”

________

Joel walks into your house one day, plastic bags hanging from his arms. The clinking of metal against metal announces his arrival.

“Joel? Whatcha got there?” You ask, drying your hands on the dish towel hanging from the stove, one that says “JUST ROLL WITH IT” with an image of a rolling pin beneath it. 

He sets the bags on the counter. “Cat food.”

You blink at him. “Cat food? You bought cat food?”

“Yeah, you mentioned you were running low. Besides, there’s a new calico out there so you gotta start puttin’ out more. Where’s the bowls?” 

He moves around the kitchen with practiced ease, grabbing a spoon and the set of plastic bowls you reserve for the neighborhood cats. It hits you at that moment.

You love Joel Miller.

Your smile is huge when he turns to look at you and he freezes like a deer caught in the headlights. You close the gap between you, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him close.

“I love you,” you murmur into his chest. His arms wrap around your shoulders and you feel the press of his lips to your head.

“I love you, too.”

________

BONUS BETTY CONTENT

Joel wakes early the next morning after his first night with you, your naked body still curled in his. He smiles down at you before gently pulling himself from your grasp, stifling his laugh at how you pout in your sleep before rolling over, snuggling into your pillow. He finds the stack of familiar pink Post-Its on your nightstand, scribbling out a note that he’s gone to pick up breakfast and coffee and would be back soon.

He puts on his now dry swim trunks and leaves the house, shutting the door quietly behind him. The neighborhood is still asleep, the sun barely cresting the horizon as he leaves your porch.

“Leavin’ so soon, Mr. Miller?” Betty’s raspy voice calls. He freezes, feeling like a teen caught sneaking out of his house. 

“Good mornin’, Betty,” he says, turning slowly to face her. She’s got a knowing smirk on her face.

“What was it I said about the two of you hittin’ it off?” She asks, tapping a finger to her lips. Joel can feel his cheeks heat. 

“You were right,” Joel admits. 

“I know, dear. I always am. Now, could you bring me back a doughnut while you’re out? Double chocolate. With sprinkles.”

“Yes, m’am.”

[neylo]

Becoming Marshal of France - Part one: The annoying but necessary shit

@cadmusfly is a bad influence and a terrible temptation. I want you to know that you have succeeded.

Since I was a kid, I loved the feathered hats, the colourful shiny uniforms and the overall vibe of the 18th and the beginning of the 19th century. Apparently, it wasn't a phase.

I am a cosplayer and I love myself a good challenge. And now here it is. I am to make the ultimate entry for the Napoleonic fandom of Tumblr and make my own marshal uniform. I cordially invite you all to join my journey and perhaps, get inspired!

Let's start with the tunic.

Disclaimer: Reenactors, chill, I am not a millionaire - I can't, unfortunately, afford the expensive replicas of the buttons etc. I do not intend to participate in any kind of reenactment activity, and therefore I can't promise 100% historical accuracy. I would love to. But right now I can't.

Note: I use the metric system. It is nice, it is logical, and you should implement that too, Americans!

Before you start:

Step one: find the appropriate fabrics. Are you looking for dark blue? Great start. Now, it's time for some research. Napoleon's Marshals book by Osprey Publishing has done a great job describing the details. You can basically choose your own preferred material: Silk, velvet or linen. Congrats! For a whole-ass marshal tunic, you will need 2-3 metres of fabric depending on your size.

You will also need lining. I recommend linen lining and viscose lining for the sleeves.

Step two: Assess your insanity. There are multiple uniform patterns, each for a different occasion (source):

If you have three years of free time and unlimited supplies of goldwork threads, you can do the grande tenue - the first picture. I would advise you not to. But if you want, there is actually an extant one you can draw your inspiration from. It belonged to Ney. If you are going for this, you will indeed be the bravest of the brave.

Petite tenue is more subtle with less embroidery. Still, difficult as hell.

Tenue de campagne is the one I am going for. I don't like commitments. You will only need to embroider the collar and the cuffs + some stuff on the back. That is doable. That is what I am doing.

Step three: The pattern. The thing is, the patterns of the era were almost the same. I simply butchered my civilian coat pattern and changed it for a single-breasted one with a standing collar. Do you want help? I will share the pattern with you.

This is how my thing looks at the moment.

Step four: Embroidery. What is this shiny thing on the Marshals' uniforms? This is a kind of embroidery called "goldwork" and you need special metallic threads for it. They are not exactly easy to find, but Etsy is your friend. There are multiple US shops, and there is also EmbroideryMaterial shipping worldwide from India. They have a great selection and very agreeable prices.

For the Marshal tunic you shall need two kinds of threads:

The French wire (lol, it is really called like that!)

The Japanese thread (a thread wrapped in a thin gold plate)

You will also need small gold sequins.

I will show you the embroidery progress when my threads arrive. Before that happens, we need to design the embroidery. No worries, someone did it for you. That someone was actually me:

That's it for today.

Stay tuned for more posts.

[spookysnooty]

did ur mettaton ever get a head...

I have the eyes for him, but my husband is the sculptor that was going to make his head and in June my husband became ill and we've been on a very long journey to figure out that he might have Multiple Sclerosis (early MS maybe, we still have many tests to go through, we also found out he had a benign non serious tumor on his pineal gland, entire ass journey let me tell you)

But don't worry!! We'll definitely get back to working on him when he have the time, the funds, and a chance to breathe after all this 😅 Metta still gets things made for him from time to time- pictured here with his very nice pants! I also have a few personal projects I'm making sewing wise.

I have a kofi open and available for people to help donate to us rn, as we're struggling with the doctor stuff (transportation to Seattle over and over again is expensive, as we have to drive two hours there, take a ferry, and do the whole thing again on the way back) There is also the Etsy Store and my commissions list! I hope to have more things up in the store soon.

[dead-boys-club]

seems like body is starting to reject safe foods, too, now.. some venting under the cut.

tw; eating issues, getting sick, medical/health related talk.

i am so... fucking exhausted. in every way. gastroparesis is a bitch — i thought i finally found a diet that would work, yaknow? i was doing good. but, it seems like those foods are being rejected. ive spent the last thirty minutes emptying my body until ive busted blood vessels and gotten a bloody nose. my body is under so much stress, it's unreal. im tired of being paranoid about food and being in pain — pain that never goes away.

it's either migraines, stomach pain, muscle pain, back, knees..

i am dealing with issue after fucking issue stacked on top of each other like some twisted game of janga that's dictating my life. not only do i have gastroparesis but juggling it with fibromyalgia? rheumatoid arthritis? migraines, nar, deficiencies out of the ass at this point, im on depo + have endometriosis. and good God if it's not the physical, it's the mental because dealing with borderline among other things it's ripping me apart at the seams.

and it's so fucking lonely. no one wants to stick around for the people dealing with things. ive got three friends who are usually busy, not into the things i am, and it sucks not being able to have more casual, chill friends.

i feel like every day im getting closer and closer to just keeling over.

let's not even start on the dental issues — throwing up every day for like, 14 years fucks up your teeth and it's a billion dollars because state insurance fucking hates you. i can't even go to a chiropractor for my spine and arthritis issues because insurance doesn't cover that and i don't make enough from my etsy BUT don't qualify for disability BUT CANT WORK because i can't get the accommodations — yes, i have applied for remote jobs and have yet to hear back from any.

i am exhausted. im doing my best. but it's really, really draining and it's hard.

im sitting on my bathroom floor, too tired/weak to get up and im trying not to cry atp lol

[lufirel]

This is the third of my centipedes; a Scolopendra paradoxa who I called Mercutio. I love the color scheme of paradoxas and find them to be one of the most stunning of all centipedes, but it presented some challenges in its replication. The main difficulty was getting the banded pattern on the back because, inconveniently, it does not alternate between orange and black segments, but rather each segment is both orange and black. It may seem a small distinction but it meant double the sewing for me!

Beyond that Mercutio was just determined to be a pain in my ass. The threads broke all the time even though it was the same basic sturdy sewing thread I typically use, and when it wasn’t breaking it was getting tangled. Many of his segment had to be redone because they either ended up too small or they refused to lie flat. Also the sheer number of times I managed to stab my finger with the needle while I was working on him was ridiculous. We got there in the end but he fought me every step of the way! He was the complete opposite of Tybalt in that respect.

In the end Mercutio also went off to a new home where he seems to be much loved. I may revisit paradoxas again in the future because as I said they are one of my favorite pedes, but after my experience working with him it can wait.

If you’re interested in owning one of my pedes or any other bizarre arthropods check out my Etsy shop. I also take commissions.

http://www.etsy.com/shop/HuggableMonsters