#so this really is a sketch of how he looks like by the time of House Corrino in my mind

[ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat]

because i liked a boy - spencer reid x fem!reader

somehow a reporter finds out about reader's relationship with none other than her coworker, dr spencer reid and shames her for it during a press conference

genre: flangst wc: 1355 warnings: medialiaison!reader established relationship, slut-shaming, feminism talk, upset spencer, morgan mention, mentioned case involving children

"This is a rough composite sketch of the UnSub. If anyone sees him, please call us using the number on the screen. Any questions?" you speak clearly, eyebrows raised and back straight.

It's a tough case this time, not that any are easy. The ones involving children–like this one–are the worst. You know that. It’s yet to hit you this hard, though. You're used to being in front of a camera all fake smiles and airbrushed to look porcelain but you're struggling to hold it together today. It’s never been easy to see grieving parents begging for their kid’s life on national television.

It also doesn't help that you haven't seen Spencer much these past two days. Ever since HR found out about you two, he’s been trying to keep his distance for professionalism’s sake. You appreciate it, of course, but you wish everything could be normal again. You miss working alongside him, sneaking tiny waist pinches every little while. Maybe you’re codependent.

One of the male reporters holding a microphone asks plainly, like it isn’t rude, “how do you expect this case to go to trial with your ongoing relationship within your team? Isn’t that some sort of conflict of interest?”

Now, how did they find out about that?

Luckily, Hotch steps in before you need to form a response. You’re left flushed and out of sorts, needing some water or something. It’s not like you’ve never had a bad press experience but nothing that came after you specifically. Why do they even care in the first place? Are you really that interesting? Is your love life really that interesting? His mustn’t be.

To Hotch, he spits, “it’s a valid question, Agent, you can’t expect no one to comment on one of your unit’s members sleeping her way to the top or… sleeping her way to getting a case dismissed.”

You want to stay, fight, cry, maybe even guilt him into apologizing, but, to your dismay, you’re pulled away by Morgan who looks just as upset as you do. If there weren’t a room full of people stopping him, you’re sure he would’ve hurt the guy. You don’t want to be dragged away by the action figure that is Derek Morgan so you try to pour your feelings into words. “The conference– the case–!”

Morgan stares at you in a way that very clearly says are you done? And, yes, you guess you are. You sigh, nodding reluctantly.

“Hotch will figure it out,” he assures softly but firmly.

You’re escorted to the break room where you watch the television only to see that very same reporter, spewing his nonsense again. Low and behold, he’s still stuck on the topic of you.

“An anonymous source discloses the identities of two FBI agents with the Behavioural Analysis Unit that are in a relationship of hidden rendezvous.”

The pitter-patter of your heart is louder than usual as he reads out your names along with the loving message, “I guess this proves that women really can’t be trained. What a shame, she’s certainly got–”

With that, you shut off the disgusting noises coming from someone claiming to be a man. You’ve never been good at taking insults but this was something else entirely. Your chest burns. You’re being perceived as a person you’re not. Everything you’ve tried so hard to build could all come crashing down at this very moment if you let it.

All because you liked a boy?

It feels ridiculous, like a step in the wrong direction for all womankind. That’s dramatic, you’re sure, but this is so twenty years ago. What happened to feminism, for fuck’s sakes? You wouldn’t give Spencer up for anything less than solving world hunger, but you wish this whole ordeal could’ve never happened. What if you lose your job? What if you lose this case because you’re too sensitive to male attention for your own good? Unfortunate circumstances led here and you wish it could be simple. It’s a tall order, but you wish UnSubs and all the people who enjoy pinning others down would simply cease to exist. You wish Spencer was here.

As if reading you all the way from canvassing the neighborhood, he’s suddenly visible, walking towards the doorway with quick Converse-sounding steps, Morgan’s hand on his shoulder. He looks worried. What worries you, though, is that he looks guilty. That hurts.

Familiar arms wrap around you as he kneels on the floor in front of the couch. “Hey, I heard what happened. Are you okay?” Spencer whispers, lips pressed into the fabric covering your shoulder.

You ponder the question for a moment before nodding. You’re not quite sure how you feel, if you’re being completely truthful. Criticism was never something you’ve taken well. Not ever. Maybe you deserve it, though. After all, you are sleeping with a coworker. You’re an agent, it’s not appropriate of you in the least. You should’ve kept to yourself, been the good girl the world wanted you to be. Female agents in the big bad FBI are already seen a certain way. You just happened to worsen it with wide-eyed affection.

How he always does, he mutters an explanation, “people like that don’t have anything going for them, you know. They report on others because their own life is insignificant.”

It’s wildly the wrong time to laugh but you do, flushed cheeks plumping from a happy smile. He pulls away and your hands find his face like they always seem to do. “I know.”

He nods. He pushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

He’s so unbelievably pretty that it almost makes you want to cry. Those same somber eyes that you’re sure mirror yours stare deep.

“It just sucks… you know?” you say so very quietly.

Nodding, he chews on his lip. “I know.”

“It’s like… I thought slut-shaming was over,” you laugh bitterly.

You can tell he feels bad. It’s not like this is his fault. You know he believes it is, anyways.

“It should be. It’s ridiculous. This isn’t your fault. That useless guy should be spending the night in a cell for harassing an agent not on the ten o’clock news airing out our personal matters.”

It’s really not often you see him like this, upset and wielding pain-filled threats. It never fails to amuse you. You’re not sure why. Something about the juxtaposition of his usual sweet demeanor and this annoyed ranting one, you suppose.

“It’s kind of funny.”

“Funny?”

You smile and nod, your thumb tracing his lower lip. “A little. We’re the most enthralling news in all of small-town-Colorado.”

While Spencer doesn’t find it quite as giggle-inducing, he mimics the pull of your mouth’s corners and shows his reluctant agreement with a bob of his head. “That is… silly, I guess.”

“We’re basically stars,” you shrug.

In honest disbelief and certainly awe for your ability to brush off the event with humour, he shakes his head, curls falling out of place. Your fingers rush to correct it. The golden eyes you love stay stubbornly put on your own. Breaths mix together in the close proximity despite you not recalling how you got so close. It’s proven difficult to care when his plush lips find yours. Carefully and with love, he kisses you. With no intent, no desire other than to make you feel better. It breaks stickily, the shimmer that once was on your lips now ghosting around his mouth. You grin.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Spencer tenderly mutters.

Gently, you answer, “I’m sure. I mean, we didn’t do anything wrong.”

You believe yourself. You’d never doubt your relationship with Spencer. It just sucks that they had to poke holes in your safe place. That safe place being Spencer. Your home. You know because of your profiler-by-association background that he was right about the reporter being not fulfilled enough in his own life that he had to insert himself into yours. That didn’t make it drastically better, anyway. Perhaps your personal life should be kept away from work.

But it’s not your fault that work happens to include Dr. Spencer Reid.

[meo-eiru]

Theo doesn’t talk to her.

Not because he doesn’t want to.

Because he can’t.

Because every time he even thinks about opening his mouth, his throat closes up, and his hands shake, and he feels like he might just throw up on the floor.

She’s right there, inches away, talking to someone else, laughing like it’s nothing, like it’s so easy to be… perfect.

Theo grips the hem of his sweater and looks down, brown curls spilling over his face, hiding what he doesn’t want the world to see. His eye burns, his single, lonely green eye, the one thing that makes him stand out in all the worst ways.

She can’t see it.

She can’t see him.

He wants to be seen, but only by her. Wants her to notice, but not too much. Wants her to hear the words he can’t even say.

"Y/N..."

The name is a fragile thing in his head, something that might shatter if he says it too loud.

He watches from the corner of his eye as she reaches into her bag, fingers brushing against something, a pen maybe, and the thought of how easy it would be to hold that hand makes his chest feel hollow. He knows the shape of her hands better than his own. Knows the way her lips move when she’s lost in thought. Knows how she tucks her hair behind her ear when she’s concentrating.

But she doesn’t know him… maybe that’s for the best. Because if she ever really saw him, saw the way his fingers twitch when she’s too close, saw the way he lingers just a second longer in the places she’s been, saw the way his thoughts wrap around her name like thorns, and his eye—

She’d run.

They always do.

(Back with a short fic for my favorite cyclops)

I have to admit I was so immersed in this I actually tried to like it as if it was a post and not an ask in my inbox

My god op you write so beautifully, you really made me feel his loneliness.

Theo is indeed very lonely, he usually doesn't mind it. He made peace with the fact he would probably spend his entire life alone around elementary school. He's alright, it's not like he's jealous of the people who go out with their friends, do romantic stuff with their lovers or just... exist without the fear of the other person finding them disgusting.

But your sheer existence makes all his resolve crumble down. His sweet, beautiful, perfect y/n. Someone who can do wrong. Even if you did hurt someone you probably had your reasons.

He loves you. He loves you so much. For the longest time he couldn't even bring himself to think like that in his head because someone like him doesn't have the right to think of you in such ways.

But even as the monster he is Theo still has emotions. Some too strong for his weak body to handle, so he tries to make it better.

He sketches you as he secretly watches you from a few seats behind, he writes your name over and over again like a prayer, he secretly follows you home and takes you pictures. Sometimes he intentionally skips his lesson to go rummage your locker, if he's lucky he'll find a piece of clothing and will try to relive himself while hugging and smelling it for the next hour or so.

He doesn't want to be seen, but he wants you to see him. He doesn't want to be noticed, but he wants you to notice him. He doesn't want to be touched, but he wants you to touch him.

He often fantasizes about you catching him as he tries to steal one of your belongings. He wants you to make him regret it, but also become aware that he is there. He wants you to talk to him even if it's to call him a creep. Because Theo is a coward, he's a coward who pathetically stalks you instead of actually having to courage to speak up. So he wants you to do it. He wants you to one day turn around and see him, your eyes to meet his.

You noticing him, you knowing him, you insulting him, you loving him.

[clowntrickery08]

I remember I wrote this in the middle of the night I think at 3 AM at like last week before I went to bed It was like an idea for an AU or something like that but anyway here you go and hear some sketches and drawings with it as well. And I’m so sorry for my bad grammar.

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

OK, I would like to think when Ralph and Turbo meet again is when Ralph is trying to find Penelope because the plug with the computers back on he wants to go find her to surprise her but instead of finding Penelope he Fine turbo instead of being mad he’s more surprised, and confused he wants to ask how is he still alive but he doesn’t get a chance because Turbo tells him to run why is because he’s being chased by cyber police or virus police OK (side, note. I personally has never watched the second movie cause I didn’t like it and it made me cringe all the time but I am stubborn so I’m adding it here even though I don’t like the movie, but I’m gonna keep Ralph’s personality the same way he was in the first movie because they did my boy run in the second movie OK finish renting anyway)

I like to think they know each other in the past they weren’t exactly friends, but they were kind of friends because turbo was the only person that weren’t really scared of Ralph at that time I think they were more like smoking, buddies even though Ralph did didn’t smoke or like cherry eating buddies but the only time when he seen turbo wasn’t smoking is with Felix. He always assumed that they were dating just assume he wouldn’t ask. It was not his business but every time when he looked, he always sort of catch turbo looking at him. Okay anyway. after the cyber police or virus police he would explain how he’s here and still alive and then they get into dumbass adventures, and and get closer it sort of like an enemies to friends to lovers thing. I’m going here and something bad

happens where turbo glitched really bad and turns into Cy-Bug, King Candy's and one of the cyber police like shoot him and electrocute him and instead of Ralph leaving him and going to try find Penelope again, instead he grab him and runs back to the entrance to the arcade and that’s all I got so yeah

[shadowqueenjude]

Elucien for @yennas-stuff, who wanted to see a confrontation scene after Lucien is "so gentlemanly it angers Elain," haha.

(lol suggestive but not complete smut)

It wasn’t like Elain to be so down. At least not outwardly. She tried to hide her negative emotions when she was at a ball or a party. But that insufferable man- or male, whatever- was driving her absolutely mad. There he was, at the center of the ballroom, laughing at whatever the woman he was dancing with was saying. Through a small gap in the crowd, Elain watched one of the woman’s sleeves slip, revealing a metal arm. It was Lady Nuan, the woman who had made Lucien’s metal eye. She typically resided in the Dawn Court, but she had come to visit in Day since Helion Spell-Cleaver was throwing a ball to celebrate the announcement of his new son and heir, who was apparently Lucien by bastard birth. Elain, who typically enjoyed balls, found herself slouched in the corner, arms crossed over her chest as she scowled at her mate from across the room.

“Unbelievable,” she muttered. “Stupid insufferable man. Absolutely idiotic man who apparently knows everyone who has ever breathed. What a pathetic male with his glossy tousled hair and perfect smile. I want to punch that smirk off of his face.”

“Are you alright?” came a male voice from nearby her. Elain abruptly sat up straight, patted down her hair and gave a practiced smile. The man had long blonde hair and long sharp bullhorns. Looking down his legs, you could see a tail poking out between them. He had bright blue eyes and a spotting of freckles on his nose. He kind of looked like Tamlin, actually.

“I am alright, my lord,” Elain replied. He raised one bushy brow skeptically. “Are you sure? I heard the things you were muttering…they weren’t quite so ladylike.”

Elain felt herself blush. And now this man had bore witness to her frustration! “It is, well…” she sighed, pinching her nose. “Can I be frank with you, my lord?”

He sketched a deep bow. “I shall take your words to my grave, my lady.” Elain couldn’t help but snort at the theatrics. But then she leaned forward in a conspiratorial whisper. “Do you see the male with flaming red hair?”

He nodded. “Ah, Lucien Vanserra. Or oh dear, shall we call him spell-cleaver now? Either way, he is hard to miss.”

He really was. It was both infuriating and endearing at the same time. “He is my mate, and I would like to make him jealous. Are you game?”

The man grinned. “I knew it. Luckily for you, I wish to do the same. My…lover has been looking at another all night. I wish to make him jealous.”

Elain tilted her head. “What is your name?”

“Tevan. You?”

“Elain.”

Tevan guided Elain to the dance floor. He was not a half-bad dancer, but Elain took the lead and guided them towards where Lucien stood in a crowd by a bunch of friends- or admirers. When the song ended, Elain gave a hasty curtsy before sprinting the remaining distance to Lucien, manners be damned. She came from behind him and slapped her hand on his wrist, gripping it tightly. She stood on her tiptoes so that she could reach his ear. “We need to talk,” she muttered. She got a whiff of his smell-crackling embers and pumpkin pie. UGH why did he smell so good too?

Lucien gave his apologies as Elain dragged him towards the door with purpose. The outdoor hall was dark, but Elain could make out several couples participating in activities not suitable for public view. Elain shoved him against a wall, surprised at her own strength. Perhaps Lucien was too, for he stared at her wide-eyed, out of breath.

“Elain?” he asked uncertainly. “Is everything alright? Do I need to call a healer? Or should we lea-“

His utter politeness in that moment caused Elain to snap. “Oh, spare me your perfect gentleman act, Lucien. I have seen how you are with Jurian and Vassa. I have seen you converse with my sisters; I have seen you snark at Eris. I have watched your behavior with your parents, with Nuan, with Tamlin, in nearly every court in Prythian. Why don’t you drop the noble lord act and tell me what you really think of me? Or do you think me too delicate to handle your cutting remarks?” Why wouldn’t he, after all? Everyone else did.

Lucien’s eyes simmered with fire in the dark hall. Good. She had drawn his ire. Perhaps now she would see some emotion from him and not the mask he had been wearing around her. “You think I mean to insult you with my kindness?”

“I don’t need you to be nice to me,” Elain hissed. “I need you to be real to me.”

“Fine,” Lucien growled. “You desire to know my true thoughts? Well, here you have them, lady.” His blazing eyes met hers as he murmured, “I do not know how to act around you.”

“Why?” Elain demanded.

“Because. You. Drive. Me. Mad,” Lucien rumbled, emphasizing each word. “You-you marvelous creature, who appreciates every subtlety of conversation and nature, unbearably gentle, yet filled with a fire that may go unnoticed but whose heat and light will never go out. You, so overwhelmed with sorrow that I can feel it in my very soul, twin to my own pain. I have never felt this way before. Never have I been so unsure of myself, of what the person I am speaking to thinks of me. I thought my mate died long ago, and I mourned her for a couple of centuries before meeting you. It leaves me free to move on, yet it is exactly what pushes you away. I cannot know if you will ever accept a rotten faerie as your own but know this: I am driven mad with longing for you every moment of every day, a desire so intense that oftentimes I cannot breathe. When I close my eyes, I dream of sin. Is that what you wish to hear, Elain? That when I sleep, I see our bodies intertwined, my lips all over your skin, your expression one of bliss? You may think me a filthy bastard, but I cannot help it. It has taken every inch of my control not to touch you more than is necessary.”

Oh.

Oh.

Elain was speechless. What did one even say after that? Words weren’t good enough to respond. She was suddenly hyperaware of her hand clenching the collar of Lucien’s shirt, their heavy breathing, and their utter isolation. No one would disturb them here.

Suddenly feeling bold, Elain ran her hand down his chest, stopping when she reached his belt and yanked him towards her by the buckle. Elain stared up at his fiery eyes. He towered over her, and she had to crane her neck to properly meet his eyes.

Lucien lifted a hand to her face, his thumb rubbing her cheekbone back and forth. The way he was looking at her…so intense, so passionate, filled with raw need…Mother spare her.

She leaned forward, her eyes fluttering shut as Lucien’s lips met her own. And suddenly, she was overwhelmed with sensation. Lucien moved forward, Elain backward, until she hit a wall. Her legs wrapped around his waist as one of his hands leaned right beside her head.

She had never done anything like this before. The few times she had been with Graysen, it had been arranged; they’d stripped their clothes in advance, Elain leaving her clothes on the side and waiting wrapped in a blanket while Graysen left his clothes in the next bedroom and walked inside. There had been some kissing, then Graysen had stuck his shrimp in her a few times, grunted, then got up and walked away. Not very pleasurable, and Elain had been in no hurry to do it again; she had not understood why so many were enamored by the idea of sex if that was all it was.

But this…all of their clothes were on, yet Elain was more aroused than she’d ever felt in her life. Her legs were hot and soaked, and loud moans escaped her lips at Lucien’s every touch.

“Not very ladylike of you, Elain,” Lucien whispered against her neck. In response, Elain shoved her hand into his hair and pressed his face against her breasts. “Just shut up and kiss me, Lucien.”

“As you wish,” he said, his voice muffled against her chest.

[coralearei]

Fantasie-Impromptu -- Sunday/Dreamweaver!Reader

summary: your client gets you to stay with him for a while longer... wc: 2.7k author's notes: there isn't any deeper reason beyond the title other than that it sounds cool and it's what sunday played in his trailer. this was supposed to be a winter holiday fic that i initially wrote a month ago and dropped and picked up again, so there might be references to baby it's cold outside and other media content: mdni -- somewhat yandere tendencies and whatever that implies: dubcon/noncon, no explicit sex but it gets pretty touchy throughout, a bit of a power imbalance, potentially ooc, gender neutral reader, implied drugging

---

Although the Family Head has been your client for many months now, you've never completely accustomed yourself to the nerve-wracking kindness that has only grown increasingly more evident with every commission he's given you. Sunday's 'acts of kindness' are almost too subtle for you to call attention to; a luxurious trinket every now and then might just be a token of goodwill, and the occasional gloved hand lingering on your shoulder too long could simply be unintentional. 

Still, being the keen Dreamweaver you are, you pick up acts like these nevertheless. They're more than just coincidences— but Sunday seems like a man higher than mere accidents. Everything he does is indeed very carefully and meticulously planned, and the way he corners you in his office at this current moment is no exception.

 "Stay a while longer." he says to you now as you prepare to leave his office. Today's session has been rather short, much to your relief— consisting of You inadvertently freeze in your motions as he speaks, standing still with your palms pressed to the desk below you. Your head is kept steady in its bowed position, not noticing the way that Sunday marvels at your refusal to return his warmhearted gaze.

 The offer is somewhat arbitrary, almost out of the blue, but it adds to the pattern of similar gestures from before. At first, he was cordial enough, but still formal— he remains both of those things towards you, but a few almost-invisible actions make you shudder. Over time, you start to give him excuses to stay at his mansion for gradually shorter amounts of time, and tell him that you have a good idea of what he wants out of whatever you're working on. You don't want to waste any more of his time, you’ve told him once, and you promise to give him articulate, expedient designs before you bashfully scurry out of his office as fast as possible.

Unfortunately, you haven’t mustered up the courage to politely decline him today. Instead, you take a look at his office, and how its clean luxury only helps to perpetuate Sunday’s tendencies towards stateliness and decorum. There doesn’t appear to be a speck of dust in the room, and the only semblance of a mess lies in the sketches you’ve brought. The papers are strewn about his desk; you continue to gingerly pick them up as you begin your reply.

“I couldn’t possibly, sir. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience the rest of your evening, and-”

“Not at all, not at all,” you bite your lip as he raises a hand to cut you off. “I enjoy listening to you speak.” he admits, giving a nearly demeaning smile. Sunday’s halo innocently gleams a glowing gold in contrast to the faint lamp of his office, as if he really is after a simple chat and nothing else.

“I’m honored, sir.” You concentrate on carefully guiding your various plans and sketches into a thick manila folder while you stare down the oak table below— hoping to avoid the way the eyes of the Halovian in front of you linger on your more… flattering parts. “B-But I really don’t want to bother you, you’re a very busy man- ah!”

Your hand barely brushes against a foreign, unfamiliar piece of silk, causing your folder to make a thumping noise as it hits the floor. In nervous shock, you turn around and see Sunday standing less than a step behind you, his lips almost perking up. You jolt back frantically, but lose your balance and fall on your bottom ungraciously. You feel your papers press against your behind.

“Clumsy little thing…” you think you hear him say to himself before he lets out a barely-present laugh. In one birdlike swoop, you’re on your feet again, your folder reconciled with its contents and safely returned to your bag. Your cheeks begin to grow hot as you feel Sunday’s sturdy hands stabilize you, gently gripping your shoulders before he gives you a soft head pat. He leans in closer, letting his lips graze your ear’s helix. You find yourself staying still as Sunday starts to murmur in your ear.

“Did you say something, sir?” you ask, trying to reclaim the professionalism in this moment that is all but gone.

“I haven’t… try to relax for me, alright?” Sunday hums in your ear, quiet but reassuring. The buzz he leaves behind sends jolts of worry throughout your body. “

Your hands are quite icy, you know that? And do be careful with yourself next time… I really wouldn’t want you to harm yourself on purpose, dear.”

You press your palms to your warming face in response, your fingers just short of clawing out your widened eyes. You’re too flustered to not remember the name that he had just used— it makes you lightheaded just to think about it. You would have fell over a second time if Sunday hadn’t grabbed you by the waist and held onto you with his strong, slender fingers.

“What’s your hurry?” Sunday hums, taking his index finger to put under your chin and point towards his beaming face, more playful than what it once was before. You hold your breath for a moment when he forces you to look up at him, hesitantly meeting the angelic amber that looks upon your face with a mysterious, ambiguous glint. 

As your eyes make contact with Sunday, his features soften once more, accompanied by a reassuring smile. When you start to sputter out a response, he takes his index finger once more and presses it against your lips, making a low shushing noise. Both of you fall silent, leaving only the roaring crackle of the fireplace to be heard.

“Please don’t hurry,” he muses, wrapping his surprisingly strong arm around waist. “I wouldn’t want to leave you all alone… Why don’t you join me for a drink? I’ll call for some wine.”

You give a meek nod and Sunday slightly pulls on your wrist in approval. Soon, Sunday and you are now both situated in the parlor of his manor. You gradually shift farther away from him towards the other end of the couch… when did Sunday get this close to you, anyway? You look down at your drink. The contents of your glass slosh inside, and the stem of the glass you hold remains unsteady in your trembling grip. You set the glass down with a sigh— good thing you haven’t dropped it yet.

You’ve now been at Dewlight for far more than the half hour you’ve agreed to out of respect— more than a half hour too long. You’re pretty sure that you’re only on your second drink now, but the number of drinks you’ve had has slipped your mind. If you correctly recall what Sunday had said about ten minutes ago, you two are currently sharing a bottle of Amontillado, a decadent sherry from the vineyards of a lush, distant planet whose name you’ve forgotten. You don’t drink much— which you’re too nervous to admit, given that you’re a recent resident of the Planet of Festivities— but the taste of this particular wine feels quite suited to your taste buds. Sunday is being more than generous with the bottle as well, taking small, graceful sips from his own glass, which still remains half full. 

On the other hand, you’ve had quite a few drinks, which have gotten you to talk much more than you would’ve liked. So far, Sunday now knows that you don’t have anywhere to be after this meeting, and that your earnings allow you a small apartment in Reality. Not wanting to say anything else that could compromise you, you eagerly gulp down the remainder of your drink, savoring the last few drops of goodness, and make your way towards the parlor’s exit.

“Where are you going now?” you hear a voice behind you, stopping you in your tracks just as you reach the doorway. You feel a weighty palm start to hold down your shoulder, making you cringe. 

This time, though, you don’t turn around, even though you can feel Sunday again with his soft lips on you, pressing to your nape. He traps your body within his unexpectedly tight grasp, smugly laughing at the way you fail to shy away from his bruising grip. His other hand gives your inner thigh a pinch as you unsuccessfully thrash against him and  try to free your helpless body.

“I don’t believe I feel very well, sir…” you groan weakly. Sunday’s grin suddenly becomes significantly less restricting, but the air that you breathe only serves to pull you into a soothing daze. “Mr. Sunday, apologies… but I don’t think I recall you making any comments about the potency of Amontillado…”

“Mind if I move in closer?” Sunday remarks, closing the distance that lies between his chest and your back. He grips your face, slowly turning you around so that you’re looking straight into his striking golden irises. 

“Don't be sorry, my dear… you’ll be fine— as long as you realize that you need to be taken care of.”

The door in front of you starts to grow farther in distance, its edges also becoming more hazy. Your vision begins to blur no matter how much you try to stand up and blink, and you let your body succumb to Sunday’s now-gentle clutches, falling into them before as he slowly drags you back towards himself. Sunday leads you through the parlor door again, and your drowsy legs give up after only a few steps. Your body, which has become almost immovable, collapses onto the couch and meets the cushions with a muffled crash. Lying on your side with your eyes half-lidded, you hear the sound of the door softly shutting and a click locking you inside.

“I don’t think you’re well enough to get home,” Sunday chides. You open your eyes to see him again at your side, sitting upright above you with his typical stately, regal air. He runs his thumb across your cheek in a smooth, calculated sweep before leaning intently over you, which allows his halo to cast a shadow of thorns that covers your exhausted form. His other hand keeps your head still while he tries to rhythmically give you headpats, which you aren’t taking too well. 

“Poor thing, you couldn’t handle the contents of your drink well enough,” he says, thinking more to himself than to you. “But now, it seems that you really do have a reason to stay here tonight…”

Half an hour earlier, you wondered if he had planned this in advance, but the answer now seems to be obvious. You clumsily attempt to sit up as you speak, grasping the armrests for support. 

“Mr. Sunday, you’re being very pushy, you know…” you trail off, using the last of what remains of your little energy to make a truthful retort. 

He only responds with a chuckle as genuine as your confession— what you can only assume is a rare show of honesty. 

“That’s… quite a blunt thing to say—” Sunday’s expression looks more taken aback than he’d like it to, though he recollects himself in a matter of seconds. “—though I'd like to think of it as being opportunistic.” 

Smugly smiling to himself, Sunday takes the opportunity to take off your hat, only slightly wrinkled. He plants his fingers within the strands of your hair, giving it a harsh pull that catches you off-guard. You clench your teeth and let out a minuscule whine in protest.

With that, he whispers something to himself, which you make the mistake of paying no mind to.

Sunday remains unspeaking for the next few moments, and your quivering lips unwillingly seal themselves shut for the time being. You let your many worries be lulled away by the following silence that is only interrupted by Sunday softly singing a lullaby, an unknown tune that seems to sedate you, quite inexplicably. The new baritone hum engulfs you and blissfully drowns out any concerns that you have. You don’t bother to question where this newfound state of bliss has come from— or why the warm rays of light emanating from Sunday’s halo are making you woozy. 

“C-cold…” you cry out as Sunday pushes against your neck’s pulse point with his covered index finger. He makes routine shushing noises while moving his index finger towards your mouth once more, which he simply rests on top of your lips. You tremble against the frigid chill that seeps through the gentle hands that gingerly caress your chin, out of the glove’s intricate cross. 

Reveling in your shaking nervousness, Sunday attentively studies every other part of you. He takes in all of it with unbridled excitement in his eager, starlit eyes. Fortunately, he lets you look away when he suddenly pulls your hand close to his cheek— instead of your face, all of Sunday’s focus is now on tenderly caring for your hand. With his own two hands, he moves the back of yours to touch his lips, planting kisses all the way up to your knuckles. 

Sunday keeps at this for a while before moving you to be on top of his lap, which he does with ease. As you open your mouth to speak, however, you feel your whines being muffled by the very hands that have gotten too close to you. 

“Not many have a level of skill that matches yours. I would be very disappointed in you if tonight were to be the end of our professional relationship.” Sunday states earnestly, pulling you closer to him so you can see his seemingly innocent smile. 

You try to pull at the arm covering your nose and mouth, but before you can he has both your hands pinned behind your back. He sighs, disappointed at your attempts to fight him. 

“However, I’m not willing to work with someone so uncooperative. I’d much rather have someone more amenable, more compliant. You can be both of those things, can’t you?” 

You squirm from within Sunday’s tight hold on you, unable to get away from his whispers flowing directly into your ears and his warm breath on your skin. Soon, he finally removes his hand from your mouth, leaving a thin thread of drool that eventually breaks. Your sharp, erratic breaths turn into more consistent ones, and you begin to form hazy thoughts.

The terms of your contract for this current project weren’t set that long ago, and he had signed it. But what did a simple contract signify to a man who had already forgone professional protocol just hours ago? However, even though the contract was broken, you couldn’t just lose one of your most generous, eminent clients…

“Now, I’ll ask you once again: are you sure you don’t want to stay with me?” Sunday asks with noticeable reverence in his voice. He shifts his position to kneel next to your limp body, lethargically laying on the plush cushions of the couch once again.

"No- I’ll stay..." After a hesitant pause, you finally acquiesce with a stutter that makes the winged man looking down at you lovingly bring his forehead to touch yours. A few of his lustrous silver locks touch your clenched jaw. 

Accepting Sunday’s request is all you can do in this situation— the choice was never yours to make. 

"Very good, very good…” he says with another laugh. A satisfied grin continues to widen on Sunday’s face, looking perfectly in place. You flinch and back away when he brings a hand closer to you.

“You needn’t be so panicked, dear… after all, there won’t be anyone else here to hear you.” He stretches his wings to cover his victorious, anticipating smile, which only leaves his eyes for you to see. Sunday peels away the silk of his gloves from his untouched hands, leaving fingers that have yet to explore you. He doesn’t say anything as he comfortably lets himself rest on top of you, putting each of his thighs on either side of you. Sunday’s knees start to squeeze your hips, still clothed— but not for long given the desperate way his fists form balls from the fabric that will not cling to you for much longer. His lips plant another firm kiss against your neck once again— but this time, it is in victory.

“That took a lot of convincing.” 

---

Thanks for reading! Reblogs > likes but both are much appreciated 💜

[kamiraaah]

My favorite part of Vovo Bucchi is the way she scruffs the babies x3 cutest thing EVER!!!

If you wanted to add more beast like features to her and Ruggie, how would they look?

Grandma Bucchi is the kindest and most caring lady you will ever meet, who at the same time will not hesitate to finish you off if you hurt the children or Ruggie 😤

NOW.... Thats a good question! I like the designs of all the TWST characters, I have some favorites and others have won me over over time. BUUUUT!!! I LOVE SO MUCH the headcanons and redesigns that this fandom ends up doing for all the boys, whether it's adding details that have a connection to the hometown that each of them comes from or something more personal to each one that only adds even more to these characters!

So i would do a LOT of changes for all the boys… 🤔 Well, we'd spend a lot of time here debating that, so I'll just focus on the Bucchi family.

BY THE WAY, I have some sketches I made of Ruggie and vovó Bucchi and i gave them more beastly features! But in this case I made them both to be NPCs in an RPG that I'm helping a friend of mine set up……. But I think it would help to show the things I would add i guess???

But of course in this case it's fitting them into a D&D universe… Now if it's in the context of TWST, it would be a little different!

If I'm not mistaken, Ruggie was supposed to be a spotted hyena, right? So I think it would be interesting for him to have more details that show this because… Well, I think it's hard for you to look at him and say "oh he's a spotted hyena!" right at the start. I would also give him a different hair texture and style, nothing too grand, just to further emphasize the fact that he is a hyena~

"But what would grandma bucchi look like?" Well, something like that!

There are many things I could add to their designs but I really like what I have at the moment~ I might change a few things in the design of Grandma Bucchi and all the Twist families but I'll only do that in the very distant future~

[py-dreamer]

...hi again?

"WHAT IS THIS?!"

"WHERE'S THE MONKIE GANG? OR SHADOWPEACH?"

"HAS PY DROPPED OUT OF THE LMK FANDOM?!?!"

To answer that question: no. No I haven't

Short and concise answer is I do personally feel a little burnt out on lmk but while that doesn't mean I've abandoned it. Not in the slightest

Anyways, very busy time for me rn so updates and any art in particular will be VERY sparse in the coming months I'm afraid.

That being said, gotten back into an oldie of mine I'd never thought I'd revisit: Object Shows!

More specifically: Inanimate insanity

Look I was into this when I was like a preteen and grew out of it then all of a sudden II s2 ep18 dropped. Like hell, I didn't even know that invitational existed (and lowkey still haven't seen it- BUT I KNOW THE LORE, BOT IS MY WEE BABY OK I KNOW THE LORE)

And drawing these gijinkas kinda gave me more flexibility and let me design people again even though I'll admit quite a few ideas are very common in gijinka's used in the fandom

So um I'll see how this goes, I already have the sketches for the other season's cast and will probably post them regardless though.

Let's start with S1's king, the fruitiest lad on the aisle: OJ!

(Btw I think it's HOP rather than HOJP)

I know he's meant to be like a glass of OJ, so theoretically his hair should be more slick/smooth but I decided to go for the flowy juice angle! Something to make his hair look more like flowing liquid.

Orange slice earings! In fact, orange slice accessories everywhere! (it's so marketable srsly don't know why it ain't used more often)

The orange watch was a fun concept ^u^ specially since after getting the hotel, I'd imagine him being a lot more uptight with sh!t and use clocks/watches to keep track of things

TBH, he'd probably also have a pair of rectangular long glass dangly earings to swap out for like the formal events.

Yay! For slacks! Thought they'd look really cute on him and other than Suitcase, wanted to give him something unique rather than just a suit/suitjacket (eg the hosts, Taco)

But oh, look at that he comes with two outfits! Just like a doll...

Bet paper would bu-

(no but srsly I lowkey bet that fan has like mini action figures of the S1 cast in his room or something, maybe even S2 & 3 too.

Also this man might be snazzy but he has the ugliest ties. We're talking about the same person who designed his hotels to have hallways with windows but not bedrooms.

Paper! Such a cutie pie!

Looks like a cinnamon roll, could kill you, what's not to love?

Don't have much to say about him sadly

Though his eyebrows gave me a LOT of issues. I like his stripes though! Seemed like the guy to have freckles like when peeps give him pencil sketch lines in this object form, what do ya'll think about the warm brown eyes though? Wanted to make him seem welcoming but idk.

(Bonus: paperclip earing!)

Gosh, I'm too tired for this rn, I'll elaborate on the designs another time

OH!

And happy new year!

And happy Chinese new year!

[ruushes]

Hi I love your oc, ailill mahariel, especially the art of them and was wondering if I could ask questions?

If so, how would they handle meeting going to the dalish camp in dao? Would they feel like a ghost and out of place especially with their looks from the blight sickness? (not their clan but the one you go to for help) and how would they react to others asking about their recruitment into the grey wardens? (Especially when its still new and raw)

Like sarel asking if they were recruited to make sure the dalish followed through on the treaty, and while that might be true its also overshadowed by the tragedy of mahariel and tamlen finding the eluvian.

Hope you have a good day and again I love your art and ocs!

the answer to if it's ok to ask about my ocs is ALWAYS YES and also i would kill for you. it blows my mind honestly that i rarely talk abt ailill but people still remember him and bring him up to me independently like that's so so so cool im glad you like my little guy 😭😭

and YEAH nature of the beast was a very fraught chapter of the game for him haha. he didn't want to collect on that part of the treaty in the first place - part unconscious fear of returning to a place so like home, part equally unconscious protectiveness and indignation on behalf of the dalish - and they only went bc he can't put his foot down lol

as for responding to questions about his becoming a grey warden, i take every available dialog option for him to be bitter about his recruitment haha, he never rly gets over that hurt even after (much, much later) accepting duncan's reasons for doing it. but being with zathrian's clan rly brutally enforces to him that he can never undo what happened and can never go home

he already felt not really dalish anymore after being (in his mind) exiled from sabrae, but having been made into a warden, he doesn't even rly feel like a person anymore. i hc that the sister clans spent a good amt of time together and their members would know each other to some extent, and that familiarity makes it even more stark how they treat him differently now - not exactly like an outsider, but with pity and a poorly concealed measure of horror

not rly related but an old sketch as thanks bc u asked 😌

[ningningsdream]

expensive friendship | part six: waffles & study

main masterlist | ef masterlist

pairing: art major!fem reader x rich kid!chenle

genre: college/university au, social media au (some written parts), fluff, angst, slow burn(ish)

summary: your mysterious aura makes you the talk of the school as a new transfer, and chenle is intrigued to see if what people say about you is real. or in which, chenle pays you to hang out with him.

[WRITTEN PART IN THE MIDDLE AND AT THE END]

the pouring rain and grey clouds contrasted with the warm and cozy shop you were in. sitting at your favorite table at young waffles, you were waiting for your partner for the art class project and reading through your research, making sure you didn't miss something.

the doors of the shop opened, making the bell above it ring, "welcome to young waffles!", your best friend, julie, greeted. she's been working part time here for almost two years now and she was the main culprit for your group's obsession over waffles.

you waved, recognizing your classmate. renjun greeted your friend back along with a slight bow before joining you at your table, "hey.", he said, his voice almost cracking out of anxiety.

"hi.", you greeted back.

"this place is much cozier and bigger than i thought.", he commented, removing his bag and coat before taking a seat, "have you ordered yet?"

"no, i was waiting for you.", you replied, handing him one of the two menus on the table.

"what do you recommend?"

before you could answer, your best friend had stopped at your table with two plates of waffles and two drinks on a platter.

"we didn-"

"it's on the house.", julie said, interrupting a-now-surprised-renjun, "it's your usual, y/n, and since i didn't what you would order, y/n's classmate, i made you our most popular items."

"renjun, this is my best friend, julie. and julie, this is my art project partner, renjun.", you quickly introduced, both of your worlds colliding in a way.

"nice to meet you, you really didn't have to...", renjun said, gesturing to his plate and drink.

"you really didn't have to.", you added, looking at your friend with eyes she knows all too well.

"oh please, doyoung also insisted.", julie replied to you with a small smile and a playful eyeroll before turning towards renjun, "it is really nice to meet you, renjun. please take care of our y/n."

you hid your face in embarrassment. you loved your best friend and you were touched by the fact that she wanted to help you get along with renjun but she had the tendency to act like a mama bear. you only dared to look back at your classmate when you heard the footstep of your friend, gradually getting farther.

"i'm sorry if that made you uncomfortable. i used to work here from time to time so i know the owners well. they give me free stuff sometimes but i pay most of the times. i'm not taking advantage of this shop, do not worry."

renjun chuckled at your response. it was the most he'd heard you talk and it was because you were trying to justify a kind gesture in case it looked suspicious. he started realizing how silly he was for fearing you, maybe you weren't that scary after all.

chenle pushed open the door of the little café, his head scanning the place,"welcome to young waffles!", a female worker greeted him. he politely greeted her back before walking towards his friend.

the closer he got to your table, the clearer he could see what renjun said about your aura. though you were smiling at something his friend said, your smile wasn't over the top or exaggerating, your laugh was suave and didn't have that high pitch sound that he often found annoying in other people.

"hey, renjun.", chenle greeted to make his presence known.

"oh hey, you're right on time, we're practically done.", renjun said, acknowledging his friend's arrival, "i'll keep sketching a few things when i get home and send them to you for the presentation."

"great, thanks renjun.", you smiled, grateful for his commitment to your shared project.

"i'm chenle, zhong chenle.", chenle said, holding out his hand towards you. renjun froze and gave his friend a look as if to say 'don't embarrass me'.

"i'm y/n, y/l/n y/n. nice to meet you.", you said, taking his hand in yours to shake it. your graps was gentle but confident.

"technically, we already met.", chenle rectified in a playful tone.

it didn't seem to bother you, "oh right, you were there last time as well.", you were talking about your first study session with renjun, which he crashed with his two other friends.

"yeah, want to grab some hotpot with us? renjun is paying."

the older chinese almost choke on air at his friend's proposal. his eyes were so big they almost jumped out of their holes.

a sudden car honking outside captured everyone's attention. you recognized mark's car and him in the driver's seat, waving at you.

"i can't. i have a work thing to take care of.", you replied, letting go of chenle's hand, which you didn't know you were still holding all this time. you put your laptop in your bag, before grabbing your jacket, "see you later, renjun.", you hurried out to not make mark wait any longer, not without waving goodbye at julie before exiting the café.

renjun and chenle watched you run to mark's car with a smile so big they thought you were another person, "she has to go to work at this hour?", chenle asked outloud. it was almost nine.

"i heard her family is kind of struggling and that's why she had to transfer. because they didn't have enough money to pay for her previous school...", renjun said, heart filling with empathy as one of the rumors he's heard about you may be true.

"i see, and is that her boyfriend or coworker?", the blond asked, eyes following the car driving away.

"i don't know.", renjun shrugged, not really caring about the answer as his eyes followed the car until it was too far to be seen. he suddenly turned towards his friend and slapped his arm, "what is wrong with you?!!"

chenle winced, rubbing his arm, "what? what was that for??"

"why did you invite her to hot pot?"

"to be polite."

"since when are you polite?"

"what the fuck? im always polite???"

"you know what i mean...", renjun looked at his friend, dead in the eyes, "you don't issue invites unless you really want the person to come."

chenle shrugged, "i wanna see what all the fuss around her is about."

"chenle... you're in your bored era again?", renjun sighed, tilting his head to the side and giving him a disapproving look.

"wha- bored era? no?", chenle's voice got higher and higher after each question, showing his confusion.

"you always get those every three to four months.", renjun rolled his eyes, "if you're bored, just hit up one of your ex hook ups or something. you'd have better luck there because if what i've heard is true, unless you have a job offering that would help her pay her rent, then she won't have any time for you."

unknowingly, renjun may have sparked an idea in that big head.

a/n: seeing the nct movie tonight imma cry for sure 🥹

[taglist: @spacejip @injvns @belleilichil @dearlyminhyung @t-102 @champagne1221 @jae-n0 @nahyuckers @dorritoni @renjunoya @winwintea @defzcl @mxnhoeuwu @myfavoritedelusion @usahanami ]

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[bomber-grl]

Laois Touden x Monster! Enthusiast

Pairing(s): Laois x Gn!Reader (platonic)

Art Creds ~ @/toothwormfactory, @/shigeoreum

Req: OMG bless you for having a platonic option, I love some friend-shipping. Can I please request some platonic HCs for Laios from Dungeon Meshi meeting another monster enthusiast, who dungeon crawls in order to sketch monsters. They later make/sell illustrations for dungeon guide books or just as art, but want to create their own comprehensive guide some day.

Plug a lil weird but he chill

Once you inevitably join the party (which was just you meeting them and then getting kidnapped pulled in) he looks out for you like he would any other member

Don’t get me wrong, he will make conversation and yap excessively so but ultimately he is unaware you’re interested in monsters the same way he is

It’s not until he’s done devouring whatever rations you guys had that he notices you’re not eating

(This takes place before Falin disappears in the Dungeon)

Despite it being uncharacteristic for him to get up and go elsewhere while he’s feasting, he notices the fact and goes to ask why/ask you to join

You’re too busy sketching away on your notepad to notice and that’s when he sees it

The most delicious, delectable drawing he’s seen of a harpy

He isn’t one to draw humanoid monsters (in fact he’s terrible at it) but the way you draw the monster parts really has him admiring it fr

That’s when you notice his presence and get surprised that he’s there

That’s his cue to bombard you with compliments and then ask you about why you were drawing it

Almost waiting for you to fess up that you like monsters too

Which you inevitably do

I mean the party at the point isn’t all that personal with eachother (especially Shuro and his attitude with Laois)

It’s only once Laois sees your drawings does he get more nosy and curious about why you’re even in the dungeon to begin with

That’s when you explain that the only reason (or atleast main one) you dungeon crawl is to sketch monsters

The other party members are listening and all they can think of is how stupid that is considering you could get seriously hurt depending on how down you go

Laois agrees with that of course- but during the rest of your time with them he gets more into your business and even tries to help you sketch monsters by bringing them up to you in odd ways

As much as Laois might seem as pestering- he’s also really great to yap to

He’ll just listen especially if it’s about monsters (which it always is) and will even add his little tidbits here and there

You genuinely become one of his go to people to yap to and vise versa

He is pretty sad when you decide to leave the party to pursue something elsewhere (which you won’t disclose with him) but he accepts it

(This occurs before Shuro and Namari leave too)

Timeskip to more recent times where they venture back into the dungeon in order to rescue/find falin, this time with Senshi in tow and bump into you

You were battling a monster and they arrived just in time to witness the aftermath

They all light up (especially Laois) and start chatting with you + you meet Senshi

Eventually you end up joining the party again because it’s just inevitable at this point and after a particularly tasty meal made by Senshi -Laois sits by your side, pulls a book out of his ass, and asks if you drew the illustration in the guide he was now presenting to you

He gives an explanation as to why he’s asking which is just, “I recognized your technique/art style” and then continues looking at you expectantly

Not even a millisecond after you nod your head is he so happy and going on about how he knows a celebrity and even how he loves your drawing and how they’re anatomically correct and how-

Yea.

That’s sort of your cue to explain why you let tint he first place

Aka the fact that you only did so because you wanted to pursue something more while making a living out of it

You also admit- although a bit shyly- that you’d want to make your own guide someday

And he’s absolutely supporting you

Especially since you’re like the few people that enjoy monsters and share the same sentiments as him

[drownedinlavender]

Okay I feel SO bad that I'm so burnt out from classes that I haven't been able to properly finish the next chapter of my fanfic, "Be Nice to Me" so here's a lil excerpt in the mean time :D

“Wait, is this … is that supposed to be… me?” He quirks up an eyebrow and curiously eyes the drawing. It's him. It's a sketch of him in his basketball uniform mid throw.

“That's!” Eric's face turns crimson red as he word vomits the first excuse he can think of. “When I was waiting for you to be done practicing! I–I was doing homework for art class. I had to draw some dynamic poses, you know, of movement or whatever so I figured, I’m already here, right? Might as well draw what I'm seeing, you know?” He desperately fumbles on his words.

“Oh yeah…” Kyle quietly acknowledges, his eyes firmly glued to the sketch.“Is this how you see me?” His quiet words barely manage to reach Eric's ears.

Eric pauses for a moment, unable to understand what Kyle's asking. “What do you mean? That’s what you look like… isn't it?” He peers up into Kyle's face with big, worried eyes. Is he creeped out? Does he think my drawing’s dog shit?

Kyle pauses, making Eric await his response with bated breath. “Do I? It's … it's really good… Like, how you draw, not how I look. Although, you did make me look good here,” Kyle smiles, feeling a noticeable boost to his confidence all of a sudden.

Eric glances up at Kyle. He gazes up at the gentle curve of his lips and the light creases beside his eyes. He's smiling. He's smiling at what I made.

[imaginative-joy]

After I saw Inside Out 2 (and cried profusely), I started doing sketches of Taylor Swift eras as if they were the emotions. I thought about each era and which emotion I thought it best represented, then just started sketching. It was a fun little personal project, and I challenged myself to really push my poses! I also wanted each era and emotion to match as best as possible (at least in my mind) and didn't want to just assign each era to its corresponding colored emotion (i.e. Debut is characterized as green, but I didn't think Debut matched with Disgust).

I had so much fun drawing these that I turned them into a sticker sheet!

Thoughts I had when picking out the emotions for each era under cut:

Debut/Embarrassment (not pictured because tumblr doesn’t allow that many images): Okay, I don’t think ANY era truly embodies Embarrassment, so I was going for more Shy with her. She’s the first one and she’s not sure how it’ll go! Also, I’m Inside Out 2, Embarrassment is really the only “new” emotion who is consistently connected with Riley’s core beliefs. He recognizes when Anxiety, Ennui, and Envy are making Riley do things out of character. I feel like that’s Debut: She’s a little quiet, but she truly understands the core of Taylor Swift.

Fearless/Joy: C’mon, this album radiates joy and happiness! She’s confident and having fun!

Speak Now/Fear: It’s gotta be nerve-wracking to speak up at a wedding, and also be “Haunted” by past relationships. But even though she may be scared, she still fights for herself! This was also Taylor’s first album where she wrote every single song, and I imagine that must’ve been a little scary!

Red/Nostalgia: I see this album as looking back on the past with some bittersweet feelings, especially with “All Too Well,” “Red,” “The Last Time,” and others.

1989/Envy: This is the “I Want!” album. Songs like “Welcome to New York,” “I Wish You Would,” and “Out of the Woods” are about wanting to have something or achieve a state of being.

Reputation/Disgust: Need I say more? She’s through with insincerity and is keeping away from toxic situations and people.

Lover/Anxiety: With songs like “Afterglow,” “The Archer,” and “Cornelia Street,” this album is riddled with the anxiety of starting a new relationship and imagining everything that can go wrong.

Folklore/Sadness: How could the love triangle of Betty, James, and Augusta be anything BUT sad? Broken hearts and betrayed trust make up the majority of this album.

Evermore/Ennui: I see Ennui not as boredom, but apathy with an underlying tone of wanting or needing SOMETHING for a sense of greater fulfillment. I hear that in songs like “Champagne Problems,” “Gold Rush,” “No Body, No Crime,” and “Evermore.”

Midnights/Riley: I chose this to represent everyone since it’s the closing album of the tour shows. Of course, you can find every emotion on every album, but Midnights is such a smorgasbord of emotions! The embarrassment of “Anti-Hero,” the ennui of “Lavender Haze,” the anger of “Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve,” the sadness of “You’re Losing Me,” the anxiety of “… Question?,” the joy (and little disgust) of “Karma…” this album has it all.

TTPD/Anger: She calls this album “Female Rage: The Musical.” I think that says it all.

[pastelaspirations]

EEEEEEYYY, MAAN, LET'S GOOO. IT'S JUST A BIG POST OF AMAZING ART, WE'RE EATING GOOD TONIGHT, MAN

I'm going to briefly comment on the other sketches 'cus I want to lol. 1) I like the angsty Killer drawing because m m m, a n g s t. 2) I freaking love stuff with Kyle and Gooseberry. Those two = the best friend duo that I love with all my heart and I will eat up all drawings with them, no, you can't change my mind- 3) I mean... That other Nightmare be looking pretty ✧˖°.fine,✧˖°. all things considered-

NOW. TIME FOR THE FREAK OUT.

MIRAGE, HOW MUCH FREAKING ART DID YOU DO, MAN. I SAID YOU WERE COOKING THE LAST POST, BUT HERE YOU ARE, COOKING AGAIN. YOU LIKE, NEVER LEFT THE KITCHEN, BEEN COOKING ONE BANGER MEAL AFTER ANOTHER-

A h e m. I shall compose myself.

....Well, about that-

Like, he wouldn't probably say it explicitly, b u t. There's a whole lot you can imply without coming right out and saying it, no? ;) (He's f i n e.)

MAAAN, I'M ALSO JUST WHEEZING. Poor Error smh. He and Daisy have their work cut out for them simply just trying to make sure Ink doesn't accidentally kill himself smh. In Ink's defense, those berries looked awful tasty, alright- (Look up deadly nightshade and tell me those berries don't look like they'd taste really good)

AND HOLY CRAP, MIRAGE, I AM SHAKING YOU. THAT FANG THROAT LOOKS SO FREAKING GOOD AND SCARY, I AM IN LOVE WITH IT ✧˖°.

I am holding my head. It looks so beautiful and scary, man, I am in awe. YOU GUYS MAKING MY BEASTS LOOK SCARIER THAN M E. Not to worry though hehe. I can just focus on the creepy literary aspect and hopefully convey the idea through my sketches enough, I can inspire you freaking mad lads to give them justice yourselves >:) WHICH YOU DID, I AM S C R E A M I N G

But eeeey, don't worry! I made the Beasts vague enough, that any design you guys do for them could be canon! :D Because they used to be normal humans/monsters, they can technically come in any shape and size. Certain Beast types just have certain characteristics that fit them into a category, but they can technically be any design your heart desires <3

I will say though... your previous Beast design looked a lot like what a Hellhound could be. What are those??? Let's just say, don't worry about it :)

More silly sketches I drew 🎉✨

‼️fake blood

Translation: you knew this would happen

Translation:

*Gooseberry: explains the plot of his novel

*Kyle: absorbs information attentively

Kyle: uh-huh.

Translation: Killer, get me the same dress

*Nightmare on the right was drawn by this artist *

*is a joke, he wouldn't say that.. I just reread some chapters of him suffering thanks to Gaster😭

Translation:

*When you left Ink for a 0.001 second, and he already nearly killed himself with some lil' berries

.

The last 3 sketches were about fanfiction "Perseverance" by @pastelaspirations

Аnd PastelAspirations.. thank you so much for making a reference for FangThroat, now I realize how wrong my first drawing of it was😭

SO! I redrew it :D (I'm pretty sure there are still things I've missed, but at least now it's a bit more accurate 😭👍)

[xxplastic-cubexx]

i would like to draw him more i think..

[kyurochurro]

GOOD AFTERNOON!! TODAYS UNI SKETCH IS : a redraw/study/doodle/whateva you wanna call it of this very dapper image of Picard and Data!! first time drawing Picard so I struggled a lil but otherwise I had so much fun drawing Data! :Pc og pic under the cut!

picard you smoke too tough... your swag too different ...

[deoidesign]

Wearing your boyfriend's jacket