#immediately thought it would be silly to draw this

[cheriedivine]

Youtuber Ellie x Reader Hc’s <3

♡‧₊˚₊✧ pairing: youtuber Ellie Williams x youtuber fem reader (No use of y/n)

♡‧₊˚₊✧ CW: slight cursing

♡‧₊˚₊✧ Tags: just pure fluff tbh

♡‧₊˚₊✧ Author’s note: I’ve been watching so much Izzy&Emma lately and i thought about this fun idea and i love this so much lmk if y’all want a part 2 bc i definitely have more ideas for this ^~^ (maybe also a little one shot?)

୨୧─── ⋆୨୧⋆ ───୨୧─── ⋆୨୧⋆ ───୨୧─── ⋆୨୧⋆ ───୨୧

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Ok so Ellie convinced you to start a channel with her for shits and giggles yk but a video of you guys doing a Dress to impress gameplay went viral and it was all over tiktok.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Like the video got 100k views in 48 hours…

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ After that, she was hooked. She begged you to keep making videos together, saying it was “for the fans,” but really… she just liked having an excuse to be on camera with you.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ofc you accepted (how could you not when she was so cute)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ One of your most popular videos is the Couple Drawing Challenge where you switch canvases every 5 minutes. You couldn’t stop laughing, meanwhile Ellie was so serious about it. Like, genuinely stressed every time she had to give up her progress.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ The paintings turned out surprisingly good (thanks to her of course), and she hung them up in your shared apartment like they’re museum pieces.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ While you love vlogging little cozy days, behind-the-scenes moments, aesthetic montages, Ellie’s more into chaotic gameplay and silly challenges.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ When you hit 1k subscribers (even though she was ready to celebrate at 100), Ellie made a cake from scratch. It was… questionable looking, but the effort was there. She even tried to pipe "1K BABY" on top with pink frosting. (You chose the colors)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ I just KNOW she’s the type to be like “babe we’re not doing a Q&A those are cringe” cut to 5 mins later: “so the first question is ‘who fell first’… it was me. obviously.”

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ELLIE WOULD FORCE JOEL TO APPEAR IN A VIDEO AND IT WOULD BE THE FUNNIEST SHIT EVER.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ I can imagine him wearing that “I love my lesbian daughter” shirt.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ The comments immediately dubbed him “DILF of the Year.”

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Ellie was disgusted. “Stop hitting on my dad, weirdos.”

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ You made Ellie a swear jar so your videos wouldn’t get demonetized. She tried to cheat by using creative alternatives like “fork” and “ship,” but gave up after a week.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ You’ve collected enough for like, a whole sephora haul

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ She bought you the Sabrina Carpenter skin in fortnite just so you’d play with her.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ You did. And totally destroyed her. She was… not okay afterward. Her ego’s was a bit bruised ngl

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Ellie insists on matching outfits when you film together. Oversized hoodies, themed shirts, stupid little hats, she loves it.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Also, she has her hands on you at all times. Arm around your shoulder, hand on your thigh, holding your pinky. Marking her territory for the creepy dudes in the comments.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ She always deletes hate comments so you wont get sad :( (cutie)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ But what she doesn't know is that you made a secret account so you could fight the incels in your comment section LOL

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ You filmed a “Doing my girlfriend’s makeup” video… Ellie ended up looking like a glam rock star and refused to take it off for hours because “I ate this shit up to be honest.”

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ The comment section was filled with “Is your gf single?, asking for a friend”

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ You deleted them <3

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Ellie made you film a ghost hunting vlog in an abandoned building. She screamed first. You have the footage. You’re never letting her live it down.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ You guys have a series called “Gayming o’clock” where you play dating sims, fortnite, roblox and chaotic co-op games.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Ellie accidentally went viral for being too soft with you on camera — like fixing your mic, brushing your hair away, or whispering “you’re doing so good, babe” mid-filming. The fans LOST IT.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ For your anniversary, she made a cringey but adorable montage of your funniest on-camera moments. It ends with her saying “Here’s to forever. Unless you beat me at Fortnite again, then we’re breaking up.”

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ There’s a running joke on your channel that Joel is the true star. You guys got him a little trophy and filmed him “accepting his award.” He actually smiled (rare footage!!).

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ You guys always EAT UP the fan edits on tiktok, you have a folder full of them.

[contamination-zone]

I am obsessed with the way you draw and characterize fresh-

It makes me smile :)))

A simple request for the silly to be drawn with the inkerr AND the nightmare :))

ur art is so yummy delicious and i want to eat it, and i hope you have a wonderful day

that one... pj's meme. Fresh just likes that they're fighting over him.

not ship :-]

^ immediately thought of the three of em'

I think if it was ship. fresh would be the worst person to ever have in a poly relationship, because he turns all his partners against each other cus he likes being fought over

[daily-dusttale]

Could you draw Dust ( somehow ) eating ice cream to ruin PLAYER's Dusttale speedrun?

Day 62 - Ice Cream

Dusttale by Ask-Dusttale

Had to draw this immediately lamo, loved it. So silly.

I uh, couldn’t think of how Sans just…eating ice cream would ruin a Player’s run, so I thought “what if my guy just isn’t there lamo” so I did that. Apologies if this isn’t exactly what you wanted 👍

Delta’s here cause I wanted to draw him :) Core brought Him to the Omega Timeline and Delta was pretty close to the entrance. He immediately took it upon himself to look after the Dust Sans. Core thought it would a great idea for them to hang out and show Him around :) Him hates all of this, but hey, he’ll be able to go home soon…after Devi rage quits cause they cannot find Him anywhere lamo

[writingdevil]

hiiii i haven't seen a prompt with smitten and cheated yet and im very curious how ur take on their dynamic would be. could be platonic or romantic though knowing me im definitely partial to shipping them <3

stay awesome and thank you 🫶

(HI PINK! I hope you like this one, because I loved the story you showed me about them and all your thoughts on the ship, so I hope you enjoy this one! You stay awesome as well! 🫶)

Cheated liked to think that he had a pretty good sense for when something was wrong.

Some of the others thought he was just tempermental and a sore loser, but Cheated knew that they didn't understand how he operated-how lucky for him.

Cheated didn't enjoy standing by while others were either pushed aside unfairly, or using dirty tricks to get ahead of others. That's why he always defended Broken and heard Paranoid out, and why he didn't trust Oppy and picked fights with Stubborn. It was all because he wanted everyone to be on the same page as each other, because only then Cheated believe that they can get along.

Cheated didn't like getting angry, believe it or not. He didn't like yelling at something that may not ever change for good, but he found that being loud was the only way to get people to listen to him, to make them understand what the problem was.

But he found that yelling wouldn't solve this problem.

He had been the first person to even know that there was a problem in the first place, and Cheated hadn't even been paying that much attention. It just stood out that much to him.

It was a single moment-barely lasted a second-but Cheated knew something was up the instant it happened.

A group of them had been chatting in the living room, and while Cheated wasn't joining in the conversation, he was still paying attention to the people around him.

He was leaning against a wall, listening to Hero and Contrarian yap about whatever, when his gaze was beginning to drift away, to a small corner in the room that he normally wouldn't have cared about.

But Smitten was in that corner.

Cheated blinked, but Smitten was still there, hugging himself and pressing his back against a corner of the room, a wistful expression on his face as he watched the others in silence.

Cheated straightened up, studying the other more seriously, because that wasn't like Smitten at all.

Smitten was known to be loud and boisterous, his mere presence being able to lift the mood instantly. Being quiet and reserved? Making himself invisible and small? That wasn't the Smitten he knew, not one bit.

But Cheated knew better than to draw attention to it immediately, so he waited, now only half paying attention to the conversation, too busy trying to decipher the sad yearning in Smitten's eyes.

Eventually, the conversation came to a close-of which Smitten hadn't spoken up once- and people started to disperse. The second he saw Smitten begin to sheepishly move away from his little corner, was when Cheated walked up to him, trying to look as normal and not as confused as he could. He most likely failed.

Smitten didn't notice him at first, keeping his head bowed as he walked, and when Cheated put a gentle hand on his elbow, Smitten flinched.

"O-Oh!" Smitten exclaimed in fright, not so subtly moving away from Cheated's hand. "My sweet friend, I didn't see you there!"

Cheated narrowed his eyes at the slight movement, but still tried to keep his voice light and casual as he said, "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to ask if you were alright."

Smitten blinked at him, as if surprised at Cheated's concern, before he gave him a reassuring smile, waving a hand through the air casually as he said, "Oh, what a silly question, dear. Of course I'm alright."

"Are you sure?" Cheated asked, and he saw the way Smitten's body tensed up, but Cheated couldn't think of how else to go about this. "You were acting a little different than usual. You kinda seemed a bit s-"

"Oh, I just remembered!" Smitten suddenly exclaimed, feathers puffing up in alarm, and Cheated couldn't help but think that they were acting as a barrier against him.

Smitten took a big step back, making sure not to touch Cheated, and blurted out, "I'm supposed to be meeting Skeptic for lunch today, silly me!"

Cheated tried reaching out to him, but Smitten quickly turned to rush out into the hallway, giving Cheated a quick wave and went, "Be seeing you, Cheated!"

Then that was that.

Cheated couldn't do anything but move on with his day, but his dumb brain couldn't get the sight of Smitten looking miserable out of his head all day.

Something was obviously wrong, but Cheated didn't think that it was his place to say anything just yet, not when Smitten was about to visit his brother. Skeptic will sniff out the problem immediately!

-Only in the days that passed, Smitten still looked upset.

It was all that Cheated could focus on anymore. He noticed the way Smitten's smile didn't reach his eyes anymore, his voice was lacking his usual passion and love, and he wasn't talking to anybody.

It was as if Smitten was becoming a shell of himself, and Cheated was felt a fearful knot in his chest each time he glanced at Smitten.

He confronted Skeptic about this, because surely Skeptic had a plan in the works. But when Cheated spoke to him, he said that he hasn't met up with Smitten in the last few days, and that he hadn't noticed that was anything was wrong with him.

Smitten lied? He was hiding something from his brother?

Now Cheated had to get involved, that urge to step in and help growing more and more, but unlike in other cases, where he would demand for justice and fairness and was ready to fight for that-he felt like he couldn't do that with Smitten.

Smitten, at his core, was a soft bird, who only wished to please and shower the others in love. He obviously had his more aggressive moments, but Cheated saw the way those moments disgusted Smitten. He didn't like being driven by hate and anger, and if Cheated confronted him in his usual manner, that might scare Smitten off.

So despite everything Cheated stood for, he decided to be patient and wait, but constantly being on the lookout for any changes in Smitten's behaviour, anything to explain why Smitten was acting this way.

But day after day, all Cheated saw was Smitten distancing himself further from the flock. He just started to shine less, and Cheated was terrified of seeing that light go out fully, for the day that Smitten didn't smile and express his love in the ways that he knew best.

Cheated couldn't understand why, though. What happened to draw out this behaviour in him? Nothing particularly traumatic or devastating has happened in a while, so what was troubling Smitten so much?

Cheated couldn't stand it. Smitten deserved to be happy and to be loved just as much as anyone else, and Cheated refused to let him wither away without telling him that Cheated was here for him.

He wanted to let one of the more gentler ones take the lead, like Skeptic and Hero, but Smitten appeared to have them both fooled into thinking that he was alright, so it was up to Cheated and his loud nature to knock some sense into Smitten.

The very next day, Cheated searched all over the house for Smitten, swearing under his breath for every minute that he couldn't find him.

It was Hunted, that ended up telling him that Smitten had gone on a walk up the hill not far from where they lived.

"Fuck, I hate hills," Cheated muttered under his breath as his legs ached at the steep climb he was forced to go up.

Smitten didn't seem to notice him at first, or if he did, he didn't have the energy to run away from Cheated anymore.

Cheated could imagine what Smitten would've been like in that moment-he would probably make an effort to help Cheated up, maybe talk about how- 'I feel your pain as if it were my own. Allow me to relive you of your suffering.'

He would most likely try to pick up Cheated, and the thought of that made Cheated flush-along with the reminder that he needed to get to the bottom of Smitten's plight.

He groaned loudly once he reached the top, and he saw that Smitten had been idly making a flower crown in his lap. Were flower crowns easy to make or was Cheated just that slow?

He felt Smitten's wary gaze on him as he tried to catch his breath, and the first thing out of his mouth was, "How can you do that walk? Aren't you dying by the time you get up here?"

Smitten wore a blank expression, which honestly creeped Cheated put, and then Smitten tilted his head to the side and spread one perfectly preened wing out and said, "I flew up here. Did you not think to do that?"

Cheated huffed at the question. "Can't, remember?" Cheated flapped his stupid wings that weren't big enough to hold his stupid weight enough to fly. Ridiculous.

"Oh," Smitten said, realisation dawning on his face. "I guess you were dealt a bad hand in that regard."

"I've been dealt a bad hand in everything," Cheated retorted with, before sitting down next to Smitten-who inched slightly away from him.

They sat on top of that hill in silence, and if there wasn't a pressing issue at hand, Cheated would've called the moment quite relaxing.

He bunched his hands into fists and stared out down at their house and softly asked, "What's wrong, Smitten?"

"Nothing's wrong, Cheated."

"That's bull-" Cheated stopped, taking a deep breath before he snapped at Smitten and ruin everything. That could still happen, if he's being honest.

"I've seen you, Smitten," Cheated said. "You're really upset over something, I can tell."

A pause. "You can?"

"Yeah, of course." Cheated twisted to face him fully now. "I can see it clear as day on your face that something's up."

Smitten was staring down at his flower crown as he quietly said, "Nobody else seems to feel that way."

"Yeah, that's because they're not looking for the right thing. I am. I can see what's really going on with people, no matter how hard they try to hide it."

Smitten hummed, twisting the intricate crown of daisy's in his hands, and then asked, "You don't have to concern yourself with looking at me. You won't like what you find."

"What do you mean?" Smitten sighed, lifting his head just enough to gaze down at the house where the rest of their flock resided.

Smitten looked so sorrowful as he said, "All I've ever wanted was to let others know how much I adore them, that I would devote myself to them no matter the cost."

"Okay?" Cheated said, cringing at how rude it came out. "What's the matter with that?"

Smitten didn't immediately answer, instead placing the flower crown on the ground between the two of them so that he could tuck his knees up under his chin.

"The problem is that I hurt people with my love," Smitten revealed, his trembling voice on the verge of a whisper. He took a shaky breath in, blinking furiously up at the sky, then continued, "My love for others does nothing but harm them. I did it to our beloved princess, and I did it to the Long Quiet."

Smitten glared up with a viciousness that Cheated wasn't used to seeing in him. "My love is just a poison that infects everyone around me, and I refuse to hurt people anymore."

That's why he had been avoiding touching people, and not bringing as much attention to himself. He was afraid of getting too close and letting himself lose control with passion.

Cheated gazed at Smitten in sympathy, and no matter how hard the other tried to spin it, the only thing that was clear to Cheated was that Smitten was so lonely now.

He was literally depriving himself of properly being with the people he loved, making himself miserable all for the sake of them.

The thought made something twist within Cheated.

"Well," Cheated slowly said, glaring at the grass below him, "what about us, then?"

"You're all better off without me-"

"No, what about our love?"

Cheated watched in satisfaction, as Smitten's face scrunched up in confusion, before he finally looked at Cheated.

"How come you're the only one that's considered dangerous, huh? You don't think we're fucked up enough to do something crazy?"

"What?" Smitten blurted out, bafflement all over over his face. "I am trying to keep you safe from me-"

"Then who's gonna keep us safe from when Stubborn goes mad? Or when Hunted goes feral? Why do you have to be considered more dangerous than the rest of us?"

Smitten's jaw was hanging open, and Cheated could practically see him frantically trying to come up with an argument.

"How is it fair," Cheated snapped, leaning in closer to Smitten and glaring at him, "to think that we can't hurt you just as much as you could hurt us? Why do you need to be punished while we get to live our lives without any fear?"

"I am trying not to hurt you with my love!" Smitten exclaimed indignantly. "Well don't," Cheated retorted, "because that's a stupid fucking argument." Smitten looked appalled, as if in disbelief at the way Cheated was talking to him.

Cheated gave him a serious look and said, "We could all hurt each other-badly. But that doesn't stop us from loving each other, and it definitely shouldn't stop you, because I could tell that you were fucking miserable."

Smitten was staring at him more softly now, less shocked and more surprised.

Cheated instinctively clutched at the grass beneath them, sighing heavily, and then said with a rising blush, "You're always saying that love is the greatest force in the world or whatever, but that goes two ways as well. We love you Smitten, and our love for each other is definitely stronger than whatever demons you've got inside you."

Cheated averted his eyes, staring down at the flower crown instead. "I know I'm not the best person for you to talk to, that I'm too rough with my words where you deserve someone soft to help you. But I'm not gonna just sit around while you torture yourself."

Cheated then delicately picked up the flower crown with a soft smile, admiring its beautiful and the person behind it, and then gently placed it atop Smitten's head, who was completely stunned into silence.

"You deserve to be protected too," Cheated softly said, watching the way Smitten's eyes slowly lit up with that light that he had missed so much.

They sat there like that for a few seconds, as Cheated gave Smitten time to process his words. He couldn't tell what Smitten was feeling-all he knew was that Smitten was staring off into the distance, and more and more life returned to his face, until Cheated felt like he had made his point.

He turned away from Smitten, rubbing the back of of his neck and going, "Well, I'll leave you alone and stop spewing curses at you." He started to stand up, saying at the same time, "Sorry if I came off a little rude-"

But he froze at the feeling of Smitten grabbing his arm.

Cheated froze, letting Smitten drag him back down beside him so that he could cuddle into his side, and Cheated's brain was stuck in that moment, too busy focusing on the warmth that he had missed so much from the other bird.

Then Smitten placed a soft kiss to his cheek, and Cheated truly was done for in that moment.

"It was perfect," Smitten whispered, and then he rested his head against Cheated's shoulder. "You were absolutely perfect for me."

[nebulanightsky]

Someone asked to see the bonus, and I'm giving them the bonus..

YALL GETTING CROSS WEARS A FAIRY DRESS DOODLES

[sableprince]

doodlin again i guess ??

scraps under the cut

[happi-dreams]

he.lo i watched that one essay video and the old nostalgia of this movie has crashed right back in ( + a new appreciation of turbo he’s very neat :] )

but i have a strict pocoyo contract so he’s also there too

[ickmick]

so im relistening to tma

(i said id wait longer but... i missed having it in the background :< plus im working on digitalizing that silly jonmartin drawing so it fits to listen to tma teehee)

DENIAL (The Nile) IS A RIVER IN EGYPT!! SPIDERS DON'T DO THAT!! /ref

[ashchoo]

ref sheet for mob Ashton :)

[scrunglepaws]

Incoherent alien!Silver au/fic/??? doodles. Too many nebulous ideas at the moment, but it seems fun. If someone knows of a fic that has already tackled this premise, I politely request: GIMME. ouo

[robinsnest2111]

idly wondering with what experts would diagnose me if I was 100% truthful and could remember every single thing that happened to me and every single quirk I developed because of it <3

[phoenixiancrystallist]

Month 7, day 28

Marble!

[blookmallow]

i guess tweed throwing the pie in amos' face was funny and all but pies take forever to make. i dont buy that she'd take all the time and effort it takes to make a fresh homemade pie and then just chuck it at her neighbor

[ivy-elle]

"What are you even talking about?"

Or: How they react to you being overly intoxicated aka drunk af

Feat. Albedo, Scaramouche

Notes: No mentions of vomiting, do not worry

Version ft. Xiao and Kaeya

“You… are like totally the most beautiful being on this earth. How is that even legal?”

Your drunk-hazed gaze looks up at him, an admiring, nearly even mesmerised expression on your face.

Albedo stifles a surprised laugh behind a cough, his fist concealing his soft smile. “Thank you, y/n. Why don’t you sit down first?”

Obediently, you follow along as he gently guides you to the couch, the slight grin not wanting to leave your face. Even less, when he crouches down in front of you, studying you with intent focus. He can’t help the slight concern slipping into his expression as he reaches out to brush a strand of hair from your face.

Meanwhile, you seem to have the time of your life with him being so close to you, with his gentle touch, like you’re something delicate.

How is it even real that you are able to call him your friend – let alone your partner. Like, your very own!

Just the way his crystal-like eyes follow yours, his shimmering hair catching the faint light of the room, down to how pretty his lips move when he speaks…

Wait. Right. He speaks. Listen.

Focus.

Right.

“If you’re able to eat right now, I suggest getting some carbohydrates into your system, my love,” he explains, gently tilting your face. “That way we can nudge your blood level back to normal again.”

You barely contain a silly giggle at his tender touch. “I’d eat straight-up eat wheat right now if you asked me to.”

Albedo nods, very slowly, his brows furrowing as he ponders about how to handle this situation best. “I see. Well, that’s not quite what I had in mind.” And yet, a part of him can’t help but be fascinated by your responses. “Would you be satisfied with some toast instead?”

You hum airily, but the moment he lifts himself up you feel your face fall into a pout, immediately missing his warmth.

“Wait,” you quickly try to prevent him from leaving. “On second thought – I am not even that hungry. You can keep staying here. Sitting.”

“I will remain here.” He slips his fingers from yours, a smile tugging his lips. “See? I am just across the room.” You should eat something to prevent some serious hungover.”

You watch him quietly, nearly enchanted by his smooth movements as he prepares some snacks, listening to his soothing voice. Has he always had this effect on you? You can’t tell. You can’t even care less right now.

“Personally, I’ve never experienced a hangover myself, but it starts right after the alcohol level in your blood starts to drop. And given your state…” He offers you a plate with some fresh toast and light fruits, “I presume it’s best to take precautions now.”

“Thank you,” you murmur fondly, accepting the plate. To your relief, Albedo joins you on the couch.

“Slowly. Take your time.”

“Maybe I was starving a bit. Archons, this is good.”

Albedo chuckles softly, gently taking your hand in his. You feel his thumb lightly tracing along your wrist before it settles on your pulse.

Your turn toward him, tilting your head in confusion. “I am still alive. I think.”

His eyes crinkle, soft musing laced in his voice. “Yes, I can see that, my love. I am merely checking your heart rate.”

Albedo looks you over and the moment your eyes meet his again, you feel your heart rate slightly quicken beneath his fingers.

His frown turns into a soft smile. “You’re feeling alright?”

“If you keep touching me this way, I’ll feel even better.” You hum, your eyes drifting to his lips.

But before you can follow your impulses, Albedo draws back, gently pushing you back by your shoulder. “Forgive me, love, but I’d rather you be sober first.”

Now you can’t help but pout, your face scrunching up. “That’s a bit excessive.”

Amused but persisting, he shakes his head, but not before leaning in and to place a soft kiss on your temple.

“Eat up. I’ll set up some tea and antidote for your headache.”

“I see you’ve lost your mind entirely,” Scaramouche remarks dryly as he halts at the doorway.

“Shhh. I need to focus,” you murmur, not even bothering to look up from where you’re lying on the ground. The room is cloaked in darkness - all windows are drawn shut to prevent any lights from falling inside, and disturbing work of art.

Scaramouche’s gaze darts to the perfectly good bed right beside you. Why, in Teyvat’s name, would you prefer the cold, hard floor? Hasn’t his day been eventful enough as it is already?

“Look at this,” you whisper again, and Scaramouche raises an eyebrow as your Electro Vision flickers to life again. His eyes follow your gaze to the ceiling, where charged threads of Electro dance in a chaotic disorder, illuminating the room in soft purple light. But your attention is glued on the lights, absolutely fascinated by this spectacle.

He steps closer, a pinched expression on his face. “Why don’t you-“

Before he can finish, you reach out, snatching his wrist and pulling him down next to you.

“Look!” you repeat once more.

Obviously, you’re only able to actually move him, because he lets you. But he does not lay down on the ground – who do you think he is? Instead, he crouches down next to you, fixing you with a look, like you’ve lost it entirely. His eyes narrow as he notices your abnormally flushed face, grasping that something is not quite right with you.

But you’re completely ignoring his unsettled expression, rather lifting your hand again to tilt his chin upward, directing his to the ceiling. “Listen to the sky, Scara,” you explain in a tone like it’s supposed to clear up everything.

Listen to the sky?

Scaramouche’s eyes dart down to you again, irritation building up inside him now. He dislikes this - having you physically here, but at the same time you not acting like yourself.

“What the hell is going on with you?”

Your eyebrows scrunch up as you turn your head toward him, like you’re pouting that he isn’t taking your lightning show as serious as he should. “You’re always complaining how fake the sky of Teyvat is. So, I recreated it. Now you have your own. Or, my own. Like – ours, I guess.”

For the sake of his pride, Scaramouche quickly schools his face. A strange combination of confusion, irritation and at the same time a strange warmth settles in his chest. His eyes flicker over your slightly dazed features.

“You’re drunk,” he states flatly, trying to sound unbothered.

For that he earns yet another. “Shhh!” This time a small, but sheepish grin tugs at your lips.

For a moment his eyes linger on you, before he tears them away, letting his gaze return to the ceiling. Now that he’s seeing the purple mist of electro from this angle, your perspective…

“How fake can it be, if I created it myself?”

At the sound of your gentle whisper, he feels his resolve weakening, eyes flickering between the charged branches, now finally taking form on the ceiling.

You created … a sky. For him alone.

Then, even softer, as if to not drive him away, you add, “Sometimes you need to be a bit intoxicated to see the world differently.”

Scaramouche stretches his legs out, leaning back on his elbows. “The ground was the best solution you had?” But there is no real bite in his voice, he is way too immersed in the little universe you’ve created in the room.

For him, his own Electro Delusion has always been nothing more than a tool – a means to gain power. To destroy. Yet, here you are again, showing him the other side of the coin, proving, that in destruction lies its own universe of creation.

“You smell nice,” he hears you mutter suddenly, breaking him through his trails of thoughts.

Of course, you’d say something like this right now. Without looking at you, He doesn’t look at you the corner of his mouth twitches. “I know. You, on the other hand, have had better days.”

You gasp, pushing him away lightly. “Rude! I do not smell bad!”

“You reek of alcohol. It’s onerous.”

He hears you grumble something incoherent under your breath, slurring the words into a mess.

Unimpressed, he clicks his tongue. “Consequences of your own actions.”

But as you shift to stand back up, the electro particles above start to dissolve as well. Almost immediately, his hand grabs your wrist, holding you close. “Stay down.”

You stare at him. Then you blink once. Twice. And then a shit-eating-grin spreads on your lips. “Oho! So, you do like my sky. Ha!”

A scoff escapes him as he tries to act nonchalant and averts his eyes back to the ceiling. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I simply prefer not having you stumbling around the room like a drunk sailor, just because you don’t know your limits. Which seem to be quite low.”

You sit back down, not without grouching a quiet “Jerk.”

“Idiot.”

The two of you glare at each other, daring the other to say something. Eventually, you relent, rising your hands and bringing the lighting to life once more.

Scaramouche remains quiet, savouring your presence for a second longer. Before he looks back at the stars again.

Who needs a fake sky, if a whole universe is right there beside him already?

Thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs are so appreciated <3

[darkmatilda]

𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: in which one spencer reid tries to focus on work, but keeps getting distracted. first by an unexpected phone call. then by the way you start flirting with another agent right across from his desk. but in the end, why does it even bother him?

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spender reid x diva!chemist reader, reader kinda threatens to poison him, but its not a threat, just their silly way of showing mutual affection <3

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3.3k

𝐚/𝐧: anon's request. heyyy wonderful people, just letting you know that your request was the second-to-last in my inbox, so im opening them again! feel free to send me your ideas for the diva reader series, im already grateful in advance :>

Spencer usually gave out his phone number only to the people closest to him.

That way, he didn’t get unnecessary calls distracting him from more important matters, and he could be sure that if someone truly needed to reach him, they wouldn’t have any trouble doing so.

So, as he walked through the Quantico office, planning to track down Hotch—who supposedly wanted to see him—he was so absorbed in their case that he pressed his phone to his ear without thinking, without even looking at the screen, fully expecting to hear a familiar voice. Someone from the team, maybe.

Instead…

"Hey there, gorgeous."

A slightly raspy male voice. Spencer immediately estimated the caller to be around forty, judging by the subtle rustling sound—whoever it was, they were holding the phone just a little too close to their mouth.

Spencer froze in place.

His first thought—a wrong number.

His second—another one of Morgan’s pranks.

Just in case it was the latter, he didn’t hang up immediately. If his friend had planned something, he needed to find out what—so he could properly retaliate later.

"We met last night, don’t know if you remember," the man continued after a brief silence, caused entirely by Spencer’s confusion. "I hope you do. Because I sure do. Hard to forget a face like yours. You still there, sweetheart?"

In case anyone had any doubts—Spencer was not the intended recipient of this conversation.

He hadn’t gone out the night before, let alone given his number to a stranger. In fact, he had been in an entirely different state.

"Oh, sweetheart, don’t make me mad now. Or maybe you’re staying quiet because you’re curious how much I remember about you? Want me to remind you what you were wearing?"

Suddenly, it clicked.

After a brief second of pure disbelief, Spencer rolled his eyes upward, staring straight into the glare of the overhead lights. He blinked slowly.

His brain was exceptionally sharp that day. Even more so than usual.

Which meant it didn’t take long for him to put the pieces together. A quick mental chain reaction, linking scattered fragments of information into a single, clear conclusion. 

The man on the other end of the line thought Spencer was the woman he had met the night before.

Spencer had a few female friends, but everything—literally everything—pointed to her.

First of all, he was nearly certain none of the others had gone out last night. They had all been working together, after all.

Second, and somehow more importantly—none of them, except her, would have found it remotely funny to give his number to a random guy.

As a joke? Was that what this was supposed to be?

“There’s no need for that,” Spencer cut in sharply, before the man on the other end could start poetically or less poetically describing her outfit.

This time, the silence came from the other side, laced with clear confusion.

Spencer couldn’t stop the faint crease forming on his forehead, nor the subtle tension drawing his shoulder blades together. The entire conversation left a bad taste in his mouth, and it wasn’t just because the guy was wasting his time.

It was his voice.

Self-important. Smug. Wet in a way that made simply listening to him an unpleasant experience. The kind of voice that could turn an otherwise neutral or even affectionate word sweetheart into something damn near degrading.

Years of experience profiling people meant Spencer had no trouble picturing exactly the kind of man he was dealing with. And the distaste coiling in his gut only sharpened.

“For future reference,” he said, barely pausing for breath, his grip tightening on the phone, “I’d suggest double-checking the numbers women give you when they’re trying to get rid of you. Because this isn’t your sweetheart. This is the Behavioral Analysis Unit, which, for your information, is part of the FBI. And your utterly pointless, time-wasting phone call could be considered obstruction of justice, which, surprise, can land you several years in prison.

A loud silence followed—one that left Spencer with a strange feeling. Satisfaction, maybe.

The man cleared his throat, and Spencer would bet good money that there were one or two silent curses mixed in there.

“This whore must’ve given me a fake number,” the guy muttered, no longer speaking directly into the phone.

The sudden shift from sweetheart to whore was so blatant that Spencer couldn’t hold back a sharp, mocking scoff.

“Well, I’m guessing you didn’t think of her as a whore when you were trying to hit on her last night—”

He barely finished the last word before the line went dead.

For a moment, he remained motionless, the phone still pressed to his ear, analyzing his own reaction. He was completely taken aback by it. Almost immediately, though, he forced himself into a nonchalant shrug, brushing it off as nothing more than irritation at an unwanted call.

Work. Right. Work. He had work to do, he had to meet with Hotch…

…but he had barely covered a few meters when his gaze caught a familiar stride and silhouette crossing one of the hallways. And before his mind could even consciously make the decision, he found himself heading in that direction—despite originally going somewhere entirely different.

“Did you have fun last night?” he asked as her hand pressed the elevator button.

She didn’t look at him at first, though she must have heard his footsteps. It wasn’t until he spoke that she slightly turned her head toward him.

“Not too bad,” she admitted casually. Her hands immediately moved to their usual position, arms crossed over her chest, and a small teasing smile danced on her lips.“How about your morning? Any interesting phone calls?”

He opened and closed his mouth, not expecting to be so transparent. He also felt a bit confused by her enigmatic, calm reaction. The elevator stopped, and she confidently stepped inside first.

Spencer followed her.

“I don’t quite get it,” he admitted, furrowing his brows. “Was that supposed to be a joke at my expense, or that guy’s?”

They stood side by side, shoulder to shoulder in the small elevator space. He looked at her, and she stared ahead. She slowly shrugged.

“Maybe both,” she replied, inspecting her nails. Spencer clenched his lips, holding back from saying that she could at least spare him the ignorant, irritating attitude for once. “Or maybe I just wanted to get rid of the pushy guy by giving him the first random number I could think of” She paused, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. “And maybe I was hoping you'd scare the shit out of him with some long lecture, preferably about the law. Was I right?”

She shifted her gaze fully to him, her piercing eyes locking onto him with such intensity that denial was out of the question. He didn’t even need to answer—the flicker of expression that crossed his face gave him away instantly.

Her short laugh filled the elevator.

He always felt a little humiliated, standing there in silence while she laughed at his expense. So he spoke first, blurting out the first thing that came to mind—the thing that had been sitting there for a while now.

“Does that happen a lot? Guys being pushy?”

She gave him a closer look, maybe because of the unintended seriousness in his voice. He hadn’t meant for it to sound that way. Clearing his throat, he tried to appear more indifferent.

“Well, yes,” she said simply. Stating an obvious fact, a reality she was used to. “Every time. But getting rid of them isn’t hard. A well-placed conversation, and they run off just as fast as they showed up.” She scoffed. “But sometimes I’d rather just, you know, actually enjoy my evening instead of dealing with them. And that’s when the fake number trick comes in.”

Spencer caught himself listening with genuine interest. He was well aware of the effect she had on people—how she drew eyes just by existing, how so many of those looks were filled with nothing but desire. He also had the impression that, for the most part, she regarded them with mild disdain—or maybe even enjoyed being the center of attention.

He hadn’t considered that sometimes she’d had enough of them—so much so that she had an entire list of strategies to get rid of them just as quickly as she attracted them.

He realized he had fallen silent, lost in thought. The elevator stopped at her floor—he hadn’t planned on getting in with her in the first place, which meant he was now stuck pretending he was going somewhere else.

She took a step toward the open doors before his voice stopped her.

“Wait, you’re not even going to say thank you?” he asked. “I did waste some time on that guy. That was a solid lecture.”

She stood in front of the open doors, facing him.

“I have a suspicion,” she began, one brow arching as a teasing smirk tugged at her lips, “that you enjoyed it way too much to actually need my thanks.”

She gave him a small wave—just her fingers, really—before the elevator doors slid shut, cutting them off from each other. Spencer hated to admit—even to himself—that she had a point. Okay, a lot of a point, he realized as he recalled that fleeting rush of satisfaction when the call abruptly ended, punctuated by a hint of panic on the other end.

And maybe that was what ultimately decided it—because from that moment on, on the rare occasions he received similar calls, he always had a long, meticulously crafted, stern lecture at the ready. One that, just before the inevitable abrupt hang-up, sent the smallest, most satisfying shiver down his spine.

*

"You have three hours."

"I can handle it in two."

 "Do it in one."

Spencer remembered these words, muttering a soft shit under his breath. The massive stack of papers that not only needed to be read but also carefully analyzed seemed to be getting no smaller. The hour on the clock, however, kept ticking forward.

"Hm? What's up? Do you have something?"

He slowly shifted his unwilling gaze to the man he was trapped in the room with. Well, not literally trapped, but that’s how it felt. Dean Bradley, an agent who’d been working on the case they’d just been assigned to for years, knew it inside out—naturally, he had been assigned to cooperate with them. His current role, however, seemed to involve nothing more than pretending to write something on the whiteboard and occasionally throwing out a theory that supposedly brought them closer to the solution but, in reality, only pushed them further away. Bradley was incredibly distracting to Spencer.

"No... I just... nothing." Spencer replied rubbing his throbbing temple. That case had been exceptionally exhausting, he hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, and the coffee he had just drunk hadn’t helped at all. "Nothing. Just...can you not say anything to me for a while?"

Bradley raised an eyebrow at him but Reid didn’t really care. Simply buried his nose in the papers again, reading, or rather, devouring the pages with his eyes. There hadn’t been the best atmosphere between them ever since Spencer had ignored his outstretched hand for a greeting. Well, that was because he had seen Bradley leaving the bathroom earlier, and even if he had washed his hands, he had immediately touched the door handle that everyone in the building touched, half of whom hadn’t washed their hands. Honestly, Spencer would have preferred to kiss him as a greeting. It would have been safer.

For a moment, Bradley was actually quiet. He didn’t stay that way for too long, though—just long enough.

"So, where are those lab results? Weren’t they supposed to be here by now?"

"They were. So, I’m guessing they’ll be here any minute," Spencer replied shortly.

"It’s taking a while. Maybe I should just go grab them myself?"

Yeah, please do, Spencer nearly begged. He even opened his mouth, but before he could say a word, the door swung open and a woman stepped in, moving with quick, confident steps, but this time with a bit of frustration in her stride.

Completely ignoring the man's gaze landing on her, she stepped up to his desk and dropped the promised lab results onto it with a sharp motion.

"Could you tell me," she began, one hand still resting on the papers, preventing him from immediately going through them. Because she was standing while he was sitting, her figure loomed over him, forcing him to tilt his head slightly to meet her eyes. Naturally, he did, his gaze moving from her hand with neatly manicured fingers to her beautiful face, her bottom lip slightly protruding as she prepared to speak. "When exactly did I become your secretary? Because I don't remember that moment."

Spencer didn't even blink before responding, so used to thir verbal sparring and the fast pace she always set, just like her steps.

"Well, maybe since you started handing out my number left and right," he shot back instantly. Without breaking his gaze, he grabbed the empty cup sitting within arm's reach. "And since you consider yourself my secretary, would you be so kind as to make me a coffee?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Agent Bradley watching their exchange with fascination, focused on only one side of the conversation. No need to specify which side. Meanwhile, the woman tilted her head slightly to the side, a certain gleam lighting up her eyes.

"Sure," she replied, to his surprise. There was something devious in her tone. Suddenly, Spencer didn't want the coffee anymore. "But I’m not sure I’d be so kind as to make sure those ten teaspoons of sugar you put in your coffee are actually sugar, and not, say, arsenic..."

Instinctively, he pulled the cup closer to himself.

"Not ten," he mumbled.

"Oh, my eternal apologies, I exaggerated a bit. Five?"

"Well, now you're getting closer..."

Their conversation, or rather their verbal sparring, was interrupted by a cough.

“Reid,” Bradley said his last name much friendlier than ever before, with a mischievous grin on his face. “When you said the chemist would bring us the lab results, I imagined, I don’t know, Einstein with his hair sticking out in all directions. Did you really lock such a treasure in the lab?” he chuckled. “So it wouldn't distract y’all?”

Spencer looked up at the woman in front of him again, who had only just noticed the third person in the room. Her hand slowly slid off the papers she’d been resting on, though it stayed on the desk. She half turned her body toward the new speaker, casually sitting on the desk. There was something hypnotic in the fluid, clock-like motion as she crossed one knee over the other. For a moment, he just watched, realizing after a while that he wasn’t the only one.

“Maybe I locked myself in there,” she replied. Her tone calm, too calm, as it always was before she’d throw words, like precisely aimed darts, at the other person. “So I wouldn’t have to listen to the same tired lines from agents with the same tired faces, thinking they’re being creative.”

For a moment, he completely forgot about the pile of papers waiting to be analyzed. He watched what was unfolding in front of him, a small smile involuntarily starting to form on his lips. However, it faded the moment he noticed Bradley’s expression. He had expected him to be shut down. Speechless, maybe. Hurt in that characteristic, pathetic way typical of fragile male pride. Instead, Bradley was grinning like an idiot.

“Wow, that’s a bit harsh,” Bradley commented lightly, not in the slightest bit put off by her words. In fact, the fascination on his face only grew.

Spencer couldn’t help but glance at the profile of the woman sitting motionless on the desk. Her gaze was now also more focused, following the person across from her. Her eyes seemed even more concentrated, intrigued, and entertained than during their conversation. He forced himself to tear his gaze away from her, physically making himself look back at the papers. Work, right, work. He had to focus on it, despite how distracted he was by their presence. It was, after all, natural. They were speaking rather loudly, right in front of him. He began reading the text on the page, concentrating only on it.

“You must feel like some princess locked in a tower,”

His ears, against his better judgment, picked up Bradley’s next words. He shook his head. Text. A quick glance at the woman’s face. Text.

“You know, that German fairy tale from the 18th century…”

Spencer, from his own experience, knew that info dumping wasn’t the most effective way to flirt with a woman. Especially when it wasn’t even accurate.

“17th century,” he corrected, unable to stop himself. Both their gazes landed on him, but he didn’t respond to either, keeping his eyes fixed on the papers. He was reading them, but couldn’t grasp their meaning. He started analyzing the same paragraph again, continuing, “Assuming we’re talking about the German version of that fairy tale recorded by The Brothers Grimm. Because, actually, this was developed from the French literary fairy tale Persinette by Charlotte-Rose de Caumont de La Force, which itself is an alternative version of the Italian fairy tale Petrosinella by Giambattista Basile.”

A long silence fell. The woman shifted slightly in her seat, pretending to be focused on her work, and he tried not to look at her face. Was there pity or amusement on it? Why did it matter to him so much to figure that out? What mattered was only one thing: they were bothering him. The two of them. With the noise they were generating, to be precise.

The sound that filled the room was probably just a long breath from Bradley.

“Wow,” he repeated, thrown off. “Thanks for the clarification, Agent Reid.”

“It’s Doctor Reid.”

He couldn’t stop himself and looked at her. She closed her eyes when a smile spread across her lips. She didn’t try to hide it or hold it back. It was simply there. Bradley noticed it too, his arms, which had been casually resting on his hips, sliding down along his body.

"Didn't you have some urgent documents to analyze?" he began, trying not to sound confrontational, but he failed. He sounded confrontational. "The ones you kept reminding me about every five minutes since we got here?"

Reid didn't have a sharp retort ready for that one; in fact, Bradley had hit the nail on the head. He did have a lot of urgent documents to go through, but for reasons unknown to him, he'd decided to engage in this pointless conversation instead. His silence only seemed to fuel the satisfaction on Bradley's face, which was broken only by the movement of the woman. Specifically, her rising from the desk.

"You could've just said we’re interrupting," she remarked, stretching one leg after the other, every movement fluid. "Especially if it's something important. Is it?"

"Well, actually, yes..."

"In that case, I suppose we're in the way. Shall we go, Agent Bradley?"

She must have read his last name off the badge pinned to her chest. Both Spencer and Bradley looked at her, but only one of them slowly cracked a smile. The other let out a sigh, pretending to feel relief, though deep down, he genuinely did—finally, he could focus on what he had wanted to from the start.

They both made their way toward the door. Unused to her quick pace, and still a bit surprised by the attention she had given him, the agent trailed after her like a lost puppy. As they crossed the threshold, she turned back to him over her shoulder, looking like a kid bragging about winning a bike race.

Spencer merely shook his head with pity, and when they both disappeared in the same direction, he scoffed.

He returned to his work.

After a while, he found himself thinking that perhaps he preferred their conversation to be within earshot, rather than out of it.

[scoutswritingcorner]

Can I request Hazbin Hotel characters reacting to an artist!reader that draws a lot but never shows anyone their work but one day accidentally left it out and their partner finds it and sees several sketches and finished drawings of them? Sorry if it’s an odd ask, I’m an artist and I thought it would be a cute idea I don’t see nearly enough, it’s okay if you can’t. Thank you either way!!!

Artist Rendition

Hazbin Gang x GN!Reader

TW:A little flirty with Angel’s reaction. Other than that none!

A/N: Not an odd request at all, Friend! For Angel’s part I did write for a male Reader and Fem Reader for Vaggie! KINDA SHORT I APOLOGIZE FRIEND!

-🦌Alastor🦌-

-🦌 Alastor was very curious to see you carry a sketchbook around all the time. He wanted to pry so badly.

-🦌 But he didn’t, he simply ignored the book and only ever asked about it if you were near him. You always get flustered and hide the book even further. Oh now he’s wondering what kind of dark secrets you have in there~

-🦌 But to his surprise when he finds it open and on a page, he sees drawings of him, he carefully flips the page and sees a half down sketch of him sitting in front of the fireplace.

-🦌 Oh boy you just made his ego inflate and his undead heart soar to new heights. His tail starts wagging and that’s the only way someone can catch how happy he is.

-🦌 Now? He’s going to poke a little fun at you, “My Dear, if you had to pick anyone in the hotel to be your muse who would it be?” 

-🦌 Silly deer man loves you and your abilities, he often tells you that your work needs to be displayed in a museum.

-🍎Lucifer🍎-

-🍎 Oh boy- when he finds out you can draw? Oh he gets super excited and asks if you can draw him a duck- even if it’s a little doodle! He doesn’t care!

-He doesn’t really ask or pry into your hobby much but he will admit he does want to see what you draw.

-When he does see that you drew him of all people he gets all flustered and he’s prideful cause his partner?? His darling little angel drew him?!?

-He will volunteer to pose for you, he’s used to sitting still for hours on end! 

-He will even pose naked if you want him to! Just say the word and he’ll drop his clothes right there.

-🎰Husk🎰-

-🎰 He watched you sit at the bar and draw to your heart's content and never really commented on it.

-🎰 When he does peek into your sketchbook it’s to pull behind the bar into a safe place so nothing ruins your work.

-🎰That’s when he notices the drawings and doodles of him and his tail curls happily. The way you captured him doing menial tasks sends his heart into overdrive.

-🎰 You were too good for him, damn it. The next time you find it? It has a little sticky note on the cover of your sketchbook and it has a little drawing of you with a small message, “Had to go out with Alastor. Love you, Dollface.” 

-🕷️ Angel Dust 🩷-

-🕷️ Oh this man- he loves it! You’re an artist and he’s also like an artist! But of a very very different genre.

-🩷 He also doesn’t pry much as he understands privacy. He wants to give you that as much as he can since he doesn’t get much of it.

-🕷️ Once he finds out you draw him? He’s over the fucking moon cause his man? His precious boyfriend draws him! 

-🩷Expect him to start flirting more and more but with art related flirts. “Come on, Suga’~ Draw me like one of your french girls~” im sorry. He’s very supportive!

-👑Charlie👑-

-👑 oh this baby girl..she’s been so busy lately that if she did notice it completely slipped her mind!

-👑 But when she finds your sketchbook? She gets super excited cause you draw this good?? She’s so proud that she immediately goes to find you!

-👑 She is another who fully supports you! You need anything, don't hesitate to ask!

-👑 Will try to convince you to start painting for the hotel! You can say no it won’t offend her.

-🎀Vaggie🎀-

-🎀 Much like Husk she won’t point it out or comment on it.

-🎀Will find out you draw her when she sees it when cleaning up and gets all blushy cause this is how you see her?

-🎀 Comes clean immediately about seeing your drawings and tells you how amazing they are.

-🎀 Shyly asks if she can pose for you next time, how could you say no to her?