#something possessed me and had to post them

[demie90s]

nika x model reader!!! maybe nika is the one that does the spoiling and they always go shopping together for matching fits, ig posts blow up, and reader shows up to a fame with custom rings for nikas number that nika bought her and is shown on jumbotron

𝙁𝙡𝙚𝙭 𝙁𝙤𝙧 𝙈𝙚

𝙉𝙞𝙠𝙖 𝙈ü𝙝𝙡 x 𝙁𝙚𝙢!𝙈𝙤𝙙𝙚𝙡!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

MASTERLSIT | MORE

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: nika spoils you like it’s her job—but tonight, you flip the script and make sure the whole arena sees who really owns your heart.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: luxury, teasing, possessiveness, light PDA, viral internet moments

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: ~0.3k

Everyone thinks you do the spoiling. You’re the model. Verified on every platform. Always showing up in glam with a coffee in one hand and your phone in the other. You walk like the room was built around you.

But if they looked a little closer, they’d see it. The Cartier bangle? Nika. The Chrome Hearts jacket you wore at fashion week? Nika. The limited-edition silver 10 on your finger? Nika.

You didn’t even have to ask.

“You’re mine,” she told you once in the Louis Vuitton fitting room, hands on your hips, voice low in your ear. “So you’re gonna wear it like you mean it.”

⸻

Y’all go shopping like it’s tradition.

Side by side in matching cargos and sleek tops, arguing over whose style goes harder while the staff brings out racks just for you two.

She always pays.

“You’re ridiculous,” you say every time the card hits the machine.

“Shut up and carry your bags,” she grins, sliding her arm around your waist. “You’re the accessory.”

⸻

Game day? You show up dressed for war.

Hair laid, soft-glam beat, full look styled around her team colors. The cameras flash the moment you step through the tunnel—but tonight?

Tonight you’re wearing the rings. Silver stacked on three fingers. Sleek, icy, loud enough to glint under the Jumbotron light. Each one custom-carved:

“MÜHL.”

“#10.”

“PROPERTY OF.”

She hasn’t seen them yet. You wait until halftime—right when she glances up at the crowd—and you lift your hand, biting your glossed lip, rings on full display while the jumbotron zooms in.

The whole arena reacts.

Someone yells “YO SHE GOT THE NUMBER ON HER FINGER!”

Nika freezes mid-step. Mouth open. Then she laughs, all teeth, all disbelief.

Presses her hand to her heart like she’s down bad in front of 20000 people.

She dropped 22 that night.

And the whole time? She kept looking for you. Every steal. Every dime. Every bucket—eyes up, jaw clenched, like she had something to prove to the girl in the front row wearing her number on her hand.

After the final buzzer, you met her in the tunnel like always. But this time she didn’t wait.

Didn’t say “hey.” Didn’t say “what’d you think?”

Just grabbed you.

One hand on your waist, the other on your face, rings cold against your cheek as she kissed you—hard.

It wasn’t sweet. It was hers. Pressed in. Mouth parted. A little messy, all claim. You kissed her back with both hands curled in her jersey, like you needed something to hold or you’d melt right there in the tunnel.

The staff walked past. Cameras clicked. Someone whistled. Neither of you pulled away. When she finally let up, she rested her forehead against yours, breath hot and lips flushed.

“You wore the rings,” she whispered.

“You bought them.”

“You really tryna make me lose my mind out there, huh?”

You smiled, brushing your thumb over her mouth.

“Next time I’ll wear your jersey number on my back,” you said. “Just make sure you keep playing like that.”

She licked her lips, grinning.

“Baby, I play like that because you’re watching.”

And before you could say another word, she kissed you again—softer this time, but longer. Slower. Like the game was over but this was her real win.

@xxsnowxx213 @draculara-vonvamp @kcannon-1436-blog @zizi-bee-yapping @kaliblazin @perksofbeingatrex @soapyonaropey

[andy-15-07]

Can you do imagine that y/n and pedro visit his family in chillie and his all nephews and family if the reader and pedro going to move in together and getting married and start a family but pedro said I didn't think about that like no and the reader was upset over his answer ang got quite and pedro noticed that she not talking much and ask her why she got quite she told him and he said some sweet things then he tell his family that some amazing news like what I mean is that I do plan all these with reader and can you do of him saying to her that he wasn't in relationship in a long time so that's why he said it and especially over the age gap

En Casa

PAIRING:Pedro Pascal x reader

WORD COUNT: 1265 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

A/n:I apologize for not posting the requests I received from May 16th until today, I promise that today I will try to answer all of them and I think the current requests will be written and posted this week because I have more free time, so stay tuned and I hope you like it.

The scent of fresh pan amasado floated in the air, mixing with the sea breeze drifting from the nearby coast. You stood beside Pedro on the patio of his sister Javiera’s home in Santiago, Chile, watching his nephews kick a football across the garden with the chaotic energy only children possessed. Laughter echoed through the house,his family warm, loud, loving.

You'd been here three days now, and every second had been nothing short of joyful. Javiera had welcomed you with open arms, treating you like one of her own, and Pedro's mom, Veronica, had kissed both your cheeks and told you in Spanish that she prayed for Pedro to bring home someone exactly like you.

You caught Pedro watching you now,beer in hand, leaning back in a lawn chair, that slow smirk pulling at his lips. He looked… soft here. Home.

“¿Estás bien?” he asked, nudging your elbow gently.

You smiled. “I’m more than fine. I think your mom just tried to adopt me.”

He chuckled, resting his hand on your lower back. “She does that. Get too comfortable, and you’ll be in the family WhatsApp group before I can warn you.”

“Too late. Javiera already added me.” You grinned.

His head dropped back in laughter. “Oh no. You’re doomed.”

You hesitated then, your heart thudding in your chest. The question had been on your mind for weeks, maybe even months. You loved Pedro. Being here with him, among his people, made the feeling deeper. It didn’t feel like a vacation,it felt like the beginning of something permanent.

“Can I ask you something?” you said.

He turned toward you, suddenly serious. “Always.”

You took a breath. “Have you ever thought about… us. Like… moving in together? Getting married? Maybe starting a family?”

Pedro blinked, caught off guard. He looked away for a second, rubbing the back of his neck. “I… wow. I didn’t really think about that.”

You froze. Your smile faded. “Oh.”

“No, not like,” He paused, clearly flustered. “I mean. I haven’t really thought about it like that. Marriage, kids, all of that… it wasn’t on my radar, you know? It hasn’t been, not for a long time.”

You nodded slowly, your hands fidgeting in your lap. Something in your chest began to tighten. “Okay. Got it.”

His brows knit. “Wait,are you upset?”

You shook your head quickly. “No, no. It’s fine.”

But it wasn’t. And as the afternoon stretched into evening, Pedro could tell.

The dinner table was loud and glowing with warmth. Bowls of pastel de choclo, fresh salad, and roasted meats filled every surface. Kids were telling stories, adults were toasting each other, and someone brought out a guitar. But you were quiet.

Pedro leaned toward you at the table. “¿Estás bien, mi amor?”

You smiled faintly. “I’m fine.”

But your eyes didn’t meet his.

After dinner, he found you alone on the balcony, looking out at the city lights. He came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Talk to me,” he said softly. “You’ve been quiet since this afternoon.”

You hesitated, then turned in his arms. “It’s just… I guess your answer surprised me.”

His brows lifted. “About the marriage and kids thing?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t trying to pressure you, I swear. I just… when I think about the future, I think about us. I guess I thought maybe you did too.”

He cupped your cheek gently, his thumb brushing your skin. “I do think about us. All the time.”

“Then why did you say you haven’t thought about it?”

Pedro sighed, looking away briefly before bringing his eyes back to yours. “Because I haven’t been in a relationship like this in a long time. Years. Before you, I never really saw something lasting. My life was all over the place,shooting, traveling, time zones. I didn’t let myself want things like that.”

You swallowed, your throat tight. “And now?”

“Now…” He smiled gently, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Now, I’m scared because I do want all of that. But it’s new for me. And, to be honest, I’ve had this thing in my head for a while,that I’m older, that maybe you’d change your mind someday. That I’d hold you back from what you deserve.”

You shook your head quickly. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true, cariño,” he said softly. “There’s an age gap. You have time to explore, grow, change. And sometimes I think,what if one day, you wake up and realize I’m too settled for you?”

Your eyes welled. “Pedro… I’m not here by accident. I chose you. I choose you every day. And if you’re scared of losing me, then let me tell you this,you won’t. Not unless you push me away.”

He pulled you into his chest, holding you tightly, kissing your hair. “I’m sorry. I never meant to make you feel unsure.”

“You didn’t,” you whispered. “I just needed to know where you stood.”

He tilted your face up, his voice barely above a whisper. “I stand with you. Wherever you go, that’s where I want to be.”

Then, he grinned. That charming, cocky Pedro smirk you loved.

“You know what?” he said suddenly, taking your hand. “Come with me.”

“What? Where?”

“To the kitchen. My family’s still hanging out. I want to tell them something.”

“Pedro,”

He pulled you gently. “Trust me.”

Back inside, his nephews were playing cards, and Javiera was sipping wine with their mom. Pedro clapped his hands, drawing attention.

“Okay, okay,” he said in Spanish. “Tengo algo que decir.”

Everyone went quiet.

He pulled you beside him and laced your fingers together.

“Quiero que sepan algo importante. Yo la amo.” He turned toward you. “I love her.”

You blinked fast, overwhelmed.

“And earlier today, she asked me something,about our future. And like an idiot, I froze. Because I was scared. Because I didn’t think I’d ever find someone like her.”

The room was still, eyes bouncing between you two.

“But the truth is… I have thought about it. About moving in together. About asking her to marry me. About having kids. All of it. And I want it. With her.”

You gasped softly, your hand flying to your mouth.

Veronica let out a teary “¡Ay, Pedro!” and Javiera whooped with delight.

“You do?” you whispered.

Pedro turned toward you, cupping your face. “I do. I didn’t say it right the first time. But I’ve never been more sure of anything. You make me feel young again, like I’ve still got time to get it right. And I want to get it right with you.”

You threw your arms around his neck, burying your face into his shoulder, trying not to cry.

“I love you,” you whispered.

“I love you too.”

One of his nephews shouted, “So you’re getting married?!”

Pedro laughed. “Eventually!”

Javiera came forward, hugging you tight. “Welcome to the family, officially.”

And when Pedro turned back to his mother, she just nodded with tears in her eyes. “Ella es la indicada, mijo. I can see it in your face.”

Later that night, lying beside him in bed, you ran your fingers through his curls.

“You really hadn’t thought about marriage before?” you asked.

Pedro smiled softly. “Not seriously. I always figured I’d missed that window.”

“But now?”

He turned toward you, brushing his thumb over your lips. “Now, I think the window was always open. I just didn’t know you’d be the one to walk through it.”

You kissed him gently, resting your forehead against his.

“I’m glad I did.”

“So am I, cariño. So am I.”

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

All three male protags need a meeting to discuss why everyone keep giving them their underwear. Maybe they're magically possessed to give them underwear and they don't remember.

I mean, I kind of had a feeling for a while, but it really isn't just me?

No. It definitely isn't (I'm back for this one ask, because it makes no sense for Izuru to answer this.)

Y-You’re talking about...when someone opens up to you, and then suddenly...hands you their...?

Yup. That’s the one.

I thought it was just my gang being...weird. Or maybe I said something that made them think I was into that...

Nope. Same thing happened with Kazuichi. One second we're bonding, the next...Bam. Like, what did I say to make him think I wanted his boxers?

Kyoko gave me hers with a totally straight face. Just handed them over like it was a friendship bracelet.

Maki didn’t even flinch. She just...handed them over. Like it was a promotion or something. Knowing her, I'm astounded.

You guys should see Gundham's by the way. I don't know what he did, but he did something to his pants to make them invisible.

Why bother wearing them at all then!?

What's the weirdest pair you've gotten, Shuichi?

This might be weird to say, but Kaito's boxers are black with little red stars on them, and I find that strangely endearing.

The weirdest is probably Keebo's though...

Does that guy even need to wear pants?

That's the thing. He gave me SOMETHING, and I'm not even sure what they were.

Anyway, what about you, Makoto? What's your weirdest gift? As confused as I am that we're talking about this...

There are some weird one's. Hifumi's is pretty tight on him, and are styled to look like superhero pants. But Byakuya and Hiro also have weird symbols on theirs.

Okay, but WHY is this happening? Who decided underwear was the pinnacle of friendship?

I’ve been thinking about that. What if...it's some kind of weird memory-wipe protocol? Maybe the participants don’t even remember giving them.

Like a magical compulsion? Some kind of post-bonding trance?

Do you think that means that we've also been giving them OUR underwear and neither of us remember?

Not impossible, but why would we remember recieving the underwear, and not remember giving out our own?

On top of that, why would THEY not remember recieving it from us?

Guys? Honestly...Maybe this is just one of those mysteries that needs to stay hidden. I feel like we won't like the answer, no matter what it is.

[popiellart]

— OC TAG GAME -

OC: Shrike

tagged by: @hlozt @lilnoctua

tagging: @elegiacescapist @susandsnell @uldren-sov @lamortwrites @bharv @residueradiation @nighthair @shaydh @drathe @socialprawn & anyone else who'd like to do it

RULES: Make a separate post and cross out the things your OC hasn't done. If anyone wants me to elaborate, feel free to send me an ask about any of these!

Killed Someone Under Orders | Had Someone Killed On Their Orders | Killed Someone In Self Defense | Spared Someone’s Life | Invented Something | Been Hungover | Kissed Someone | Slow-Danced | Been In A Long-Term Relationship | Had Sex | Had Sex And Regretted It | Had A One-Night Stand | Had A Threesome | Experimented With Their Sexuality | Had A Kid | Adopted A Kid | Wanted To Have A Family With Someone | Done Something On Impulse They Regretted | Gone Traveling | Had A Bounty Put On Them | Eaten An Insect | Been Groped By A Stranger | Been Groped By Someone They Know | Been Dumped | Dumped Someone | Smoked | Gotten High | Flirted With Someone To Get Free Drinks | Put Someone In A Headlock | Won a Bet | Lost a Bet | Forgiven Someone Who Wronged Them | Indulged In Petty Revenge | Hallucinated | Has A Noticeable Physical Defect | Gotten A Noticeable Scar | Been Permanently Disfigured Through Injury | Kneed Someone In The Groin | Had An Unattainable Crush | Laughed Themself To The Point Of Tears | Been Kidnapped | Been Sexually Assaulted | Been Brainwashed/Hypnotised | Had A Recurring Nightmare | Been Bullied | Bullied Someone | Experienced Survivor’s Guilt | Been Tied/Chained Up | Given Someone A Massage | Received A Massage | Been Backed Up Against A Wall | Shot Someone | Stabbed Someone | Saved Someone’s Life | Cheated On Someone | Been Cheated On | Been In An Open Relationship | Had A Friendship With Benefits | Been In A Queerplatonic Relationship | Had A Stalker | Been Betrayed | Been A Traitor | Been Possessed | Been In A Bar Fight | Been Thrown Out Of A Bar | Been Arrested | Broken Out Of Jail | Been To A Funeral | Been To A Brothel | Had Surgery | Broken Someone’s Trust | Broken Someone’s Heart | Had Their Heart Broken | Broken/Damaged Something Out Of Anger | Broken/Damaged Something Out Of Spite | Gotten A Piercing | Gotten A Tattoo | Used A Fake Name | Been Beaten Up | Been Tortured | Tortured Others | Been Abused | Been Blackmailed | Gotten Away With A Crime | Framed Someone Else For A Crime They Committed | Shared A Bed Platonically | Been In Love | Suffered From Sleep Paralysis | Been Forced To Flee Their Home | Learned A New Language | Joined A Rebellion | Fought On The Losing Side Of A War | Fought On The Winning Side Of A War | Become A Godparent | Become An Aunt/Uncle

[sequinsmile-x]

hello bestie! I love your fics SO MUCH. I was wondering if you’ve ever written something about Emily nervous about being intimate after having a baby? Going through that right now (sorry if that’s too personal 😆) but could use some Hotchniss comfort to make me feel better!

hi bestie <3

Not too personal at all. I kind of took this idea and ran with it a little, but I hope you find the comfort in it that makes you feel better <3

Also - you've just done an incredible thing. You had a baby!! You made a whole new person. Be patient with yourself <3

-x-

Tenere

verb. /teˈne.re/

(transitive) to hold

(transitive) to possess

-x-

“The pyjamas are new.” She doesn’t know what to say, how to broach the subject of sex with her husband, and she feels like it’s their first time all over again, when the scars Ian had left behind had been seen by no one but her, and when both she and Aaron were a little gun shy. “I…I got my birth control from the doctor yesterday.” 

AKA the one where Emily wants to be intimate with Aaron after she's had their son, but struggles with how she feels after giving birth.

My 450th Hotchniss fic.

-x-

Hi besties,

This is, would you believe, not only my 450th fic for Hotchniss, but it's also the fic that takes me over 2.75 million words of fanfic for them.

I never fails to amaze me how much I love this little community, and how supportive you all are. My love for Hotchniss and writing is only ever made stronger by all of you.

Here's to the next 450 fics.

As always, let me know what you think.

-x-

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: insecurity, post partum

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily wakes up slowly, a luxury she hadn’t had in weeks. 

In her half-asleep state, she lets herself enjoy it. She stretches instead of thinking about why she hadn’t slept more than two hours at a time in close to two months, and sighs contentedly as she yawns. She lets her eyes drift shut for a moment and arches her back, wishing that Aaron was with her instead of away on a case.  A familiar aching in her breasts registers, immediately dousing any remnants of sleep in panic, and she sits up, her eyes wide as she turns on the lamp on her nightstand, standing and almost tripping over her own feet as she reaches out for the bassinet just a couple of paces away from the bed. 

She sighs in relief when she sees Hugo contentedly sleeping, his little eyelids fluttering as he starts to shift, a sure sign he’d be awake soon. She stares at him for a moment, still as in awe of how much she loves him as she was when he was first placed on her chest seven weeks ago. He was perfect. A beautiful, tiny little thing that she’d made with love and care, and no small amount of chips and Oreos. She couldn’t believe he was hers, that she had him and Aaron and Jack - her Hotchner boys. 

Hugo grunts, and she knows she has a very small window of time before he’ll be awake. She places her hand on his sleep suit covered chest for a second before she whispers to him, “Mommy will be right back to feed you in a second, sweet boy.” 

She makes quick work of using the bathroom, purposely avoiding looking in the mirror as she washes her hands, and she blows out a slow breath as she picks up the small packet of pills she’d picked up from the doctor the day before. It was strange to be back on birth control, to be actively avoiding pregnancy after trying for a baby for close to a year before she fell pregnant with Hugo. It almost felt unnatural to have a chemical barrier back in place, to acknowledge that her life and body were so irrevocably different to the last time she’d taken a tiny white pill that held so much power. 

She sighs and she takes one, popping it into her mouth as she hears Hugo start to cry in the bedroom, and she turns, once again avoiding looking at herself in the mirror, to go and see to him.

Birth control, she supposed, only really served its main purpose if she was actually having sex with her husband. As soon as she left the doctor’s office, she went to buy condoms too, her OBGYN’s warning that the pill wouldn’t be effective for at least five days ringing in her ears. Emily didn’t think she’d ever felt so embarrassed buying them in her entire life, her cheeks red and her eyes fixed on the counter as the teenager serving her in the store failed to hide a smirk as he looked back and forth between her and Hugo in the carrier on her chest. 

She hated that she felt like she was right back at the beginning, like she didn’t know what to do or what to expect, but her body still didn’t feel like her own. Aaron had been nothing but understanding. He was soft and gentle with her, almost too gentle, and she knew he had no expectations of anything. When her doctor signed her off for sex again the week before, he’d simply nodded before moving on to a question about Hugo’s vaccinations, his focus always on her and their son’s wellbeing. 

She loved him for it. Loved that he wasn’t pushing her or making a point that the doctor had said she was ready. She wanted to be ready; she wanted to have sex with her husband and feel like herself for a little while, so she was pushing past all the voices in her head that were telling her it wasn’t time yet. 

She smiles as she walks over to the bassinet and soothes Hugo as she unzips his sleep sack, stamping a kiss against the side of his head as she lifts him against her chest. 

“I know, baby,” she says, smiling when he immediately starts to root. She chuckles and kisses the side of his head before she settles into the armchair in the corner of the room. It was originally intended for the nursery, but Aaron had built it in their bedroom, smiling as he quipped that they could afford to buy a second one. Whenever he was home, he’d wake up when she fed Hugo, no matter what time of night it was, and he’d go get her a snack and fill up her glass of water for her. She’d always tell him he didn’t need to, but he’d shrug her off, kissing her forehead as he told her he’d look after her so she could do the one part of looking after the baby that he couldn’t help with. She adjusts her shirt and nursing bra and smiles when Hugo latches on, stroking her thumb back and forth over his temple as he eats, “When we’re done, I’ll get you all nice and clean and ready for the day. Then we’ll wake up your brother and get him ready for school. Then it’s just you and me, sweet boy.” 

Hugo grunts as if in response, and his hand rests against her chest, his fist only slightly bigger than the brand mark just next to it. She barely thought about it these days, was no longer worried about how it looked, but seeing it next to her little boy’s hand felt like a victory. Proof that she’d won and Ian hadn’t, and that she had everything he’d tried to make sure she never got to have. 

“Hopefully, Daddy will be home today,” she says, carrying on talking to the baby as if he could understand like she had since the moment he found out he existed, “So when you nap later, Mommy is going to shower and wash her hair,” Hugo grunts again and she hums, “I know, it’s unsual these days isn’t it,” she smiles as she traces the swirl of dark hair on his head, a pattern she knew she’d remember for the rest of her life, something she’d committed to memory that first night in the hospital, “But Mommy has plans later when you and Jack are asleep, and I need to look good.” 

She ignores the shake in her own voice, ignores how just the thought of it makes her chest tighten and her heart seize in her chest. She wanted this. It’s a mantra she repeats again and again, something she knows is true no matter how much her own body seems to fight against the idea. She wanted this. She wants to be intimate with her husband again, to be more than just mom and dad or two people who traded off on chores and things to do to look after the boys. She wants to be his wife again, to be the person he fell in love with years before either one of them had the courage to admit to it. 

She wanted this. 

Hugo unlatches, and she smiles, her focus on him and burping him instead of the war waging in her chest, hope and fear and things she can’t find the name for taking up all the space until it feels hard to breathe. 

She smiles when he burps and she kisses his temple, her lips catching the curve of his ear, and any thought of sitting here with him for a little while comes to a quick end when she hears another door open just down the hall.

“We’ll be late for school!” 

Her smile gets wider at the concern laced through her eldest’s voice. He was so much like Aaron that it made her ache sometimes, and she was so proud to have played a part in making sure the little boy had a life where he would worry about school and everyday things instead of losing another parent. It still happened sometimes. He’d still crawl into their bed in the middle of the night, sandwiched between her and Aaron as they reminded him that George was long gone, that he couldn’t hurt any of them anymore, but it was less than it used to be. 

They kept Haley as alive as they could in their home. There were pictures of her spread across the walls, scattered amongst pictures of what their family looked like now. Aaron told him stories about her so he had more than the fading memories he had, and Emily had asked Jessica to tell her as much as she felt comfortable sharing about her sister so she could talk to Jack about her too, so she could make sure he remembered the woman who had died so he could life.  

Jack had introduced Emily as his mom to some new friends recently. It was the first time he’d done it, was the first time he’d come close to calling her anything other than her name, and when she asked him why afterwards - careful to make sure he knew she didn’t mind, but that she was just curious - he’d said it was because she was his mom, and that he didn’t want to be the kid whose mom had died anymore. She’d burst into tears, completely at the mercy of her hormones at the time because she was 8 months pregnant, and he’d cried too because he thought he’d upset her. 

Aaron still gently made fun of her for it even now, how he’d walked into the house with a pizza in hand minutes later to find them both crying, entirely unsure what had happened in the 20 minutes he’d been out of the house. 

“Mom.” 

She chuckles and stands up, making sure Hugo is secure against her chest as she goes, “I’m coming, honey.”

She blows out a shaky breath, and she walks out of the bedroom, determined for today to go as she had planned. 

She wanted this. She just hopes by the time Aaron gets home, she’ll start to believe it. 

___

He gets home after the boys are in bed. 

She meets him downstairs, flitting back and forth between running her fingers through her hair and grimacing at the feel of it and plucking at her pyjama shirt. It was a new set she’d bought with tonight in mind. The dark green satin shorts and matching cami had made her feel as close to good about herself as she had in a while, but as soon as she’d put them on, she’d started to doubt herself. She hated how the material clung to curves she still wasn’t used to, and she cursed herself for not thinking about the fact that the straps of her maternity bra were much thicker than those of the satin cami, but it was too late to change. 

She walks over to meet him, and any anxiety she feels is briefly washed away by relief because he’s here. She knows a past version of herself would scoff at how much she missed him when he wasn’t around, and it wasn’t just because looking after the boys by herself was hard work. Aaron was her other half, a part of her. When he was away, or when she was, she felt on edge. The feeling that she’d forgotten something or left behind always lingering in the back of her mind until they were together again. 

The only comfort in it was that she knew Aaron was the same, that he looked for her in rooms he knew she wasn’t in. The team made fun of them for it, would gently tease them for being so in love with each other that they were at a loss when they were apart. Emily often wondered if she should feel embarrassed by it, but she could never bring herself to be. 

After everything she’d been through, after everything she’d survived and died for, she’d found love and happiness she would have once thought was beyond her, and she’d never be embarrassed about that. 

He smiles as he drops his bag at their feet to wrap his arms around her. He’s warm, just like always, and she leans into it, humming as she settles against him, letting his warmth seep into her skin and through the satin of her pyjamas as he holds her close. 

“Hi sweetheart,” he says, kissing her temple before he pulls away enough to stamp a kiss against her lips, “I missed you.” 

She kisses him and rests her forehead against his, “I missed you too. So did the boys.” 

“Are they in bed?” He asks, and she nods, not missing the disappointment that flashes through his eyes, “Sorry I wasn’t home in time to help.” 

She shakes her head and kisses him one last time before she steps back, slipping her hand into his to squeeze, focusing on the size of his hand against hers, “It’s not your fault, honey, it’s just one of those things.”

He smiles and finally looks at her properly, taking another step back to look at what she’s wearing, “You look beautiful.” 

She blushes at the naked honesty in the compliment, and she feels it spread down her neck and chest, and she has to press her lips together in an attempt to control her smile. She looks down at herself and thinks she must be looking at something different than he is. She doesn’t know how he could look at her exactly like he had on their first date, or their wedding night, and still see the woman he loved. 

“Thanks,” she says, plucking at the material of her cami again, “The pyjamas are new.” She doesn’t know what to say, how to broach the subject of sex with her husband, and she feels like it’s their first time all over again, when the scars Ian had left behind had been seen by no one but her, and when both she and Aaron were a little gun shy. “I…I got my birth control from the doctor yesterday.” 

It wasn’t how she’d intended on bringing it up, it wasn’t how she’d practised in her head all day, but he immediately understands, his eyebrows shifting up his forehead as he tightens his hold on her hand. 

“Oh.” He says, clearing his throat as he smiles at her, an edge of encouragement to it that makes her cheeks go red. 

“We’ll have to use a condoms too for a little bit until the pill starts working,” she says, scrunching her nose up at how unsure she sounds, as if she’s a teenager about to do this for the first time - although the irony that she hadn’t had that conversation at the time isn’t lost on her. “I accidentally bought a jumbo pack,” she admits, laughing nervously, and he joins in, his smile so soft it makes her breath catch in her chest, and she can see the hesitation in it, can see how it carves itself into the dimples in his cheeks. “If you don’t want to-”

“Sweetheart,” he says, cutting her off before she can get carried away with that thought, “It’s not that, I promise. I just want you to be sure.” 

“I want this.” She nods, pressing her lips together to hide the shake in them, ignoring the swell of nerves in her chest. She leans in to kiss him, her lips against his before she can doubt herself or he can ask any other questions, and she wraps her arms around his neck, standing on her tip toes so she can get as close to him as possible. He’s still for a second, one of the longest of her life, but then he wraps his arm around her waist, holding her impossibly closer. It squishes her breasts against his hard chest, and she winces, pulling her lips from his just enough to speak, “My boobs are sore so-”

“Off limits,” he says, unfazed as he nods at her, his thumb running up and down her side over the satin cami, “We’ll do this at your pace, Em.” 

She nods, and she grabs his hand, linking their fingers together as she encourages him upstairs and towards their bedroom. She checks on Hugo, making sure he’s still asleep, before she turns to look at Aaron again, smiling when she realises he’s taken off his shoes and his jacket now, the latter of them neatly laid over the armchair in the corner of the room. 

“I’ll put it away before you next need to feed him,” he says, and she nods, wringing her hands in front of herself, twisting her wedding rings back and forth as he steps towards her. She sucks in a breath when he’s close, and she knows he sees it, knows he can tell how it rattles around in her chest. “Em-”

“I’m okay,” she says, not sure she entirely believes herself, “I really am. I’m just…” 

“Nervous,” he finishes for her, and she nods, closing the gap between them to wrap her arms around his neck again. He places his hands on her waist, his hands spanning from her hips to her ribcage, and it makes her feel safe, the warmth and presence of him briefly undoing whatever was happening inside her chest. 

She uses the moment of bravery to kiss him again, to lean forward and put more force behind it than the kisses they’d shared downstairs, almost desperate in her attempts to prove to him and herself that she was as okay as she was saying she was. For a moment, it’s everything she wants it to be. She sighs contentedly into the kiss as he pulls her closer, but not as close as he had downstairs to avoid hurting her, and she thinks that she might just be able to do what she so desperately wants to do. 

Then his hand slips under her shirt, the warmth of his palm against her back a brand, and she pulls away entirely against her own will, as if her body has taken over. She takes several steps back, the air around her cold in comparison to him, and he doesn’t follow; he lets his arms slip to his sides as if he’d been prepared for it on some level. 

“Oh god, I’m sorry,” she says, her hand over her mouth as she tries to catch a sob she doesn’t understand, “Fuck,” she presses her lips together and looks at the ceiling to try to stop the burn in the back of her eyes but it doesn’t help, doesn’t stop the tears from splashing down onto her cheeks, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 

She has to cover her mouth again to stop the strangled sob that comes out of her being too loud, aware even in her state that an awake and crying Hugo was the last thing they needed. Aaron steps towards her, a sweater of his in hand that he offers out to her and a soft smile on his face, she doesn’t think she deserves. She takes the sweater and slips it on over the top of her head, grateful for the smell of him lingering on the fabric and the warmth it immediately provides. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” he says, picking up the baby monitor with one hand and offering her the other to hold, “Let's go sit downstairs and talk.” 

She nods and she takes his hand, letting him lead her back downstairs and to the living room. When they sit, he gives her space she doesn’t want, so she shifts closer to him, lets her leg press up against his as their clasped hands settle in her lap. They sit in silence for a few seconds, and she knows he’s again giving her space, letting her take the lead. 

“I’m sorry,” she says, swallowing thickly as she looks up at him, her lips pressed together in a shaky smile as she wipes tears from her cheeks, “I all but jumped you at the door and then…” 

“Emily, you have nothing to be sorry for,” he says, lifting their hands to kiss her knuckles, “You had a baby seven weeks ago. It’s okay if you’re not ready.” 

“But I want to be ready,” she says, hating the crack in her voice, how her tears start up again, “I want to have sex and get back to that part of our life, but…it feels so much harder than I thought it would.” 

“And that’s okay,” he says, “The most important thing in all of this is how you feel and what you’re ready for.” 

She sniffs, wiping her nose with the sleeve of the sweater she’s wearing, “You don’t miss it? I miss being intimate with you.” 

“There are plenty of ways to be intimate that don’t include sex, sweetheart.” he reaches out and wipes her cheek for her before using his knuckle to hook under her chin and make her look at him. “And I’ll wait however long you need to.” 

She sucks in a shaky breath, “I feel so stupid. I bought these pyjamas, I bought a fucking year’s supply of condoms,” she shakes her head at herself, “I shaved parts of myself I haven’t looked at for months and I washed my hair,” she scoffs, “But I think I forgot to wash out the conditioner because it feels disgusting, but I was too tired to do it again.” she looks down at their joint hands, “I’m so embarrassed.” 

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about,” he assures her, leaning forward to kiss her cheek, “Nothing at all.” He says, and she nods, even though she isn’t sure she believes him, and she rests her head on his shoulder. She closes her eyes so she can breathe him in, hoping that his being so close will calm her down, that his mere presence will be a balm to wounds to her ego that felt self-inflicted. “Do you want me to wash your hair for you?”

She furrows her brows and pulls back to look at him, “What?” 

“You said you think you left the conditioner in, but you’re too tired to wash it again,” he says, stroking his thumb back and forth over the heel of her hand, “I smell like the jet and whatever motor oil the lead detective was using as cologne,” he jokes, and she can see how pleased he is with himself when she smiles, “So why don’t we shower, I’ll wash your hair for you, and then we can snuggle in bed until Hugo wakes up for his midnight snack.” 

She thinks of what he’d said, of how there were so many different ways to be intimate, and she smiles. This felt like a stepping stone, like a single step down the path she’d tried to sprint down, but it was something, and it would make her feel closer to him, just like she’d wanted. 

“Yeah,” she says, leaning in to kiss him, a tender thing against his cheek, “I’d really like that.” 

[katieaki]

My ✨ post-apocalyptic Lesbian Cowgirl Mailman choose-your-own adventure✨ has just updated! Read it here for free on my Patreon and vote in the poll! Here is a guide to get you started, the summaries of each part of the story thus far, the complete collected text, and FAQ, all in one place. They have everything you need to know about Lou, her requited-but-complicated love, the religious assassin who just beat the tar out of her, the worst person she's ever met, and the ill-advised journey she is on! There is also a discord where Pony Express readers from all across god's green internet can gather, here!

✨Read the update for free on my patreon & vote on what happens next!

✨ Excerpt below the cut.

“If I stay not-dead, it’s gonna be awkward for me, going back and telling my mama that actually, I ain’t as dead as all that, after all,” Lou said. She passed Artie the end of the blanket and Artie pulled it over herself. It was good to have her thighs covered back up. Lou had a hard time not looking at them.

“You don’t have to tell her,” Artie said. “It’s not like she’d know.”

“She’s my mama, Artie,” Lou said. “I can’t just let her go all around, thinking I’m dead.”

“It sounds like she wasn’t much of a mother to you,” Artie said. “You said she’d be happy if you were dead. So let her be happy.”

“I ain’t gonna lie to my mama,” Lou said. 

It was true that, except for the weekly income, her mother’s life wouldn’t change a lick if Lou was dead. She hadn’t seen her in a decade. They didn’t write each other letters. Her mother had never seen her compete, or even practice. Her mother probably hadn’t seen her in the saddle since her father was still leading her around on Partner, except to see her leaving down the dirt road on the two occasions that Lou had visited home. The only way that she knew Lou was moving around was that her return address changed. Not that she used it. When she’d dreamed about her mother– or visited her, she still wasn’t sure– her mother had said that she’d planned to send Lou a birthday card. It would have been the first thing she’d ever sent her. She didn’t know who Lou’s friends were– or, more accurately, that she didn’t have almost any– or if she had any love in her life. She didn’t even have any sad, lingering possessions of Lou’s to deal with. Lou was as good as dead to her, anyway. 

It was strange. None of this was news to her. She’d been bitter and torn up and guilty about it for years. Decades, at that point. But she’d never once considered just stopping. She’d shorted her mother’s money before, which was how she thought of it if she made any purchase that was anything less than absolutely necessary outside of her meager self-appointed allowance. She’d wished nearly constantly that she had been able to save up a little money to make her feel a little safer, but it hadn’t been possible because it had to go to her mother. She’d had weeks where she couldn’t even afford more than a couple of dances with Venus, which was really what she’d been living for before she left Hereafter. Still, throughout all of that, she’d never just thought that she could stop. Her mother would have no way of finding her if she stopped writing between moves, even if she felt compelled to try, which she wouldn’t. Even if she wrote Lou a letter and it got forwarded on, Lou would perfectly honestly be able to say she didn’t know what it said. 

“You wouldn’t even have to lie. Just don’t go out of your way to correct her misconception,” Artie said. She kept jiggling her foot, then forcing herself to stop, before jiggling it again. 

“She’s still my mama,” Lou said. “She brung me into the world. I owe her.”

Artie opened her mouth like she was going to say something, then pressed her lips together again.

[shaydh]

— OC TAG GAME -

OC: Silas von Valancius

tagged by: @popiellart

tagging: aaanyone who wants to (feel like everyone's already done it/been tagged)

RULES: Make a separate post and cross out the things your OC hasn't done. If anyone wants me to elaborate, feel free to send me an ask about any of these!

Killed Someone Under Orders | Had Someone Killed On Their Orders | Killed Someone In Self Defense | Spared Someone’s Life | Invented Something | Been Hungover | Kissed Someone | Slow-Danced | Been In A Long-Term Relationship | Had Sex | Had Sex And Regretted It | Had A One-Night Stand | Had A Threesome | Experimented With Their Sexuality | Had A Kid | Adopted A Kid | Wanted To Have A Family With Someone | Done Something On Impulse They Regretted | Gone Traveling | Had A Bounty Put On Them | Eaten An Insect | Been Groped By A Stranger | Been Groped By Someone They Know | Been Dumped | Dumped Someone | Smoked | Gotten High | Flirted With Someone To Get Free Drinks | Put Someone In A Headlock | Won a Bet | Lost a Bet | Forgiven Someone Who Wronged Them | Indulged In Petty Revenge | Hallucinated | Has A Noticeable Physical Defect | Gotten A Noticeable Scar | Been Permanently Disfigured Through Injury | Kneed Someone In The Groin | Had An Unattainable Crush | Laughed Themself To The Point Of Tears | Been Kidnapped | Been Sexually Assaulted | Been Brainwashed/Hypnotised | Had A Recurring Nightmare | Been Bullied | Bullied Someone | Experienced Survivor’s Guilt | Been Tied/Chained Up | Given Someone A Massage | Received A Massage | Been Backed Up Against A Wall | Shot Someone | Stabbed Someone | Saved Someone’s Life | Cheated On Someone | Been Cheated On | Been In An Open Relationship | Had A Friendship With Benefits | Been In A Queerplatonic Relationship | Had A Stalker | Been Betrayed | Been A Traitor | Been Possessed | Been In A Bar Fight | Been Thrown Out Of A Bar | Been Arrested | Broken Out Of Jail | Been To A Funeral | Been To A Brothel | Had Surgery | Broken Someone’s Trust | Broken Someone’s Heart | Had Their Heart Broken | Broken/Damaged Something Out Of Anger | Broken/Damaged Something Out Of Spite | Gotten A Piercing | Gotten A Tattoo | Used A Fake Name | Been Beaten Up | Been Tortured | Tortured Others | Been Abused | Been Blackmailed | Gotten Away With A Crime | Framed Someone Else For A Crime They Committed | Shared A Bed Platonically | Been In Love | Suffered From Sleep Paralysis | Been Forced To Flee Their Home | Learned A New Language | Joined A Rebellion | Fought On The Losing Side Of A War | Fought On The Winning Side Of A War | Become A Godparent | Become An Aunt/Uncle

[lilnoctua]

— OC TAG GAME -

Callista Vlachos

Tagged by: @deathandthesoul and @informaltorching

Tagging: @swoomoo @sirvinter @qadiral-asmaimylove @graysonwildemere @hlozt and @popiellart !

RULES: Make a separate post and cross out the things your OC hasn't done. If anyone wants me to elaborate, feel free to send me an ask about any of these!

Putting it read below as some might be considered spoilers. Read at your own risk coterie babes

Killed Someone Under Orders | Had Someone Killed On Their Orders | Killed Someone In Self Defense | Spared Someone’s Life | Invented Something | Been Hungover | Kissed Someone | Slow-Danced | Been In A Long-Term Relationship | Had Sex | Had Sex And Regretted It | Had A One-Night Stand | Had A Threesome | Experimented With Their Sexuality | Had A Kid | Adopted A Kid | Wanted To Have A Family With Someone | Done Something On Impulse They Regretted | Gone Traveling | Had A Bounty Put On Them | Eaten An Insect | Been Groped By A Stranger | Been Groped By Someone They Know | Been Dumped | Dumped Someone | Smoked | Gotten High | Flirted With Someone To Get Free Drinks | Put Someone In A Headlock | Won a Bet | Lost a Bet | Forgiven Someone Who Wronged Them | Indulged In Petty Revenge | Hallucinated | Has A Noticeable Physical Defect | Gotten A Noticeable Scar | Been Permanently Disfigured Through Injury | Kneed Someone In The Groin | Had An Unattainable Crush | Laughed Themself To The Point Of Tears | Been Kidnapped | Been Sexually Assaulted | Been Brainwashed/Hypnotised | Had A Recurring Nightmare | Been Bullied | Bullied Someone | Experienced Survivor’s Guilt | Been Tied/Chained Up | Given Someone A Massage | Received A Massage | Been Backed Up Against A Wall | Shot Someone | Stabbed Someone | Saved Someone’s Life | Cheated On Someone | Been Cheated On | Been In An Open Relationship | Had A Friendship With Benefits | Been In A Queerplatonic Relationship | Had A Stalker | Been Betrayed | Been A Traitor | Been Possessed | Been In A Bar Fight | Been Thrown Out Of A Bar | Been Arrested | Broken Out Of Jail | Been To A Funeral | Been To A Brothel | Had Surgery | Broken Someone’s Trust | Broken Someone’s Heart | Had Their Heart Broken | Broken/Damaged Something Out Of Anger | Broken/Damaged Something Out Of Spite | Gotten A Piercing | Gotten A Tattoo | Used A Fake Name | Been Beaten Up | Been Tortured | Tortured Others | Been Abused | Been Blackmailed | Gotten Away With A Crime | Framed Someone Else For A Crime They Committed | Shared A Bed Platonically | Been In Love | Suffered From Sleep Paralysis | Been Forced To Flee Their Home | Learned A New Language | Joined A Rebellion | Fought On The Losing Side Of A War | Fought On The Winning Side Of A War | Become A Godparent | Become An Aunt/Uncle

[ghoulspaw]

Obscuary my beloveds <3

[shepscapades]

Uhm hi Shep 👉👈

if I were to request more Xisuma, what would you sayyyy?

(P.S. saw you redraw one of the mini doodles for the last request - this time, can it be the cleo and X one?)

Well normally i would rush to find a little xisuma to share from part 3 (which is almost done btw >:3), but I remembered that little doodle of cleo hugging x and whipped this up because they are so special to me and I think xisuma should get 100000 comforting hugs

[demie90s]

(Don’t know much bout wwe but I tried😞)

Triple Champion Couple

Diana Taurasi x fem!reader x Rhea Ripley

MASTERLIST | MORE

Summary: Rhea and I—WWE’s most dangerous duo—pull up courtside looking for something…extra. After floating the idea of adding a third, all eyes land on Diana Taurasi.

Warnings: Polyamory, flirtation, public outing, strong women energy, possessive tension, chaotic power couple energy

Word count: ~

I don’t know who brought it up first—me or Rhea. We’d been tiptoeing around the idea for months, circling it in pillow talk, in locker rooms, in the soft quiet between training sessions and flight connections. We were happy, steady, ride-or-die…but there was still room. Not for just anyone. It would take a very specific kind of woman to handle both of us. To match our energy. To earn it.

And then we went to the Aces vs. Mercury game.

Court-side, legs crossed, we were posted like royalty. I had a fitted black bodysuit on with shades over my face, Rhea in leather and lace, ink showing. We looked like sin and didn’t care who noticed. But the only one we had eyes for was Diana.

She was locked in—draining threes, barking at refs, ice in her veins and heat in her stare. One moment in the third quarter, she hit a buzzer-beater and turned toward our side of the court. Just a glance. One flicker of recognition. And I swear it felt like lightning split my spine.

I looked at Rhea. She looked at me.

“That one,” I said under my breath.

Rhea grinned. “I thought you’d never say it.”

It started subtle. A set of white roses in the Mercury locker room after their next win. Handwritten card, no name, just:

“To the Queen of the Court — from two other champions who appreciate greatness.”

We figured she might ignore it. Hell, we even thought she might throw it away. But the next game? Diana walked into the arena wearing white Nikes with rose embroidery.

Message received.

Next move? We left her VIP seats at a WWE event in Phoenix. Diana didn’t RSVP. Didn’t respond. But that night, as my music hit and I stepped out onto the ramp, I saw her. Second row. Arms folded. Smirk carved into her face like it’d always been there. Rhea nudged me mid-match and nodded toward her. I tried to play it cool, but I was breathless. My body slammed someone onto the mat, but all I could feel was her watching.

That was the first night she came backstage. She showed up quiet but composed. Walked straight in like she was meant to be there. And lord, the way Rhea just leaned back against the lockers with that slow tilt to her head… like yeah, come see about us.

I offered her water. Diana laughed.

“You think I can’t handle a little thirst?”

Cocky. Slick. Cold fire. Rhea grinned. “Guess we’ll see what else you can handle.”

From there, it was tension on tap. Texts. Meetups. Conversations that felt like challenges. Diana wasn’t pressed. She wasn’t flattered. She was interested. She was curious enough to keep showing up—but never too eager. I liked that. Rhea liked it more.

We flew out to her games. She started coming to our matches. Always lowkey. Always private. But we knew. The first time all three of us ended up back at the same hotel after a long weekend, it was inevitable. The teasing turned into touches. The touches turned into time. And once that line got crossed, we didn’t look back.

And we didn’t make it public. Not yet.

We kept it ours. No hints. No posts. Just stolen moments in private planes and behind locker room doors. Diana had always been icy with the media. Rhea wasn’t one for oversharing. Me? I liked the mystery. I liked knowing the world didn’t know what we had.

Until WrestleMania.

It wasn’t planned. I swear it wasn’t. I was mid-promo, crowd roaring, talking my shit—and then I looked to the barricade.

Rhea stood there in her usual leather, arms folded. But next to her? Diana, leaned back, hands in her pockets, chain glinting in the light, cool as hell like she owned the company. That’s when it hit me.

Fuck it.

I blew them both a kiss. Kissed two fingers and pointed dead at them. Diana caught it with a smirk. Rhea winked. Twitter exploded.

#TripleChampionCouple

We were trending in under ten minutes. TikToks. Edits. Sports blogs. Wrestling blogs. Queer blogs. People lost their minds. “The G.O.A.T. of basketball dating the Power Couple of WWE??” “Who’s the dom?” “Do they fight for fun??” “Can they adopt me??”

Diana called us dramatic. But the next week, she wore our WWE merch to warmups. So…

Now? We’re everywhere.

Backstage kisses. Shoulder rubs before practice. Rhea bringing protein bars to the locker room. Diana trash-talking our opponents in the front row. I wake up with one on each side of me, legs tangled, lips on my skin, tattoos against my neck, and I don’t ask for more—I thank God for what I got.

Three champions. One bed. One bond. And the world better pray they never see us in a tag team match.

@xxsnowxx213 @draculara-vonvamp @kcannon-1436-blog @zizi-bee-yapping @kaliblazin @perksofbeingatrex @soapyonaropey

[mothoscope]

Been a while since I've drawn these dumbasses.

[beanghostprincess]

Do you think shuggy ever gets possessive over one another?

Definitely. Undoubtedly. And it goes both ways.

I believe the most obvious answer would be saying Shanks is the possessive one because, you know, have you seen the rizz this clown has to always attract people? Cross Guild??? So Shanks gets jealous easily but I don't think he actively shows it because he wants to keep things peaceful and he truly does not want Buggy to get angry at him for this. So it's small, subtle moves that let others know Shanks is possessive over Buggy but without making Buggy notice.

On the other hand, Buggy is way more explicit with that. Shanks is just too nice. It doesn't mean he flirts with everyone he meets but he just has a flirty personality and it does look like that when he's being polite, plus, for some reason every girl wants to fuck Shanks. That man looks disgusting and very gay to me, but whatever the female gaze wants, idk-- And Buggy is more the type to get angry at Shanks and yell at him about it and quickly drag him away from any flirtatious conversation, but Shanks kind of sort of likes it, ngl. ("Awww you want me only for yourself, Bugs?" / "Shut the fuck up")

But this doesn't only happen romantically and I doubt you meant it only in that way. I was saving my favorite thing for last.

I think they were possessive of each other since they were kids. You know. Always being together and clinging to each other constantly. Never being without the other. They of course argue but they always have this "he should be with me" sensation when the other is with someone else because it just doesn't feel right to be apart from him. They have also always been possessive in the way of like-- Not the "you're mine" sort of thing but "we belong together, that's how it always has been". On the battlefield too, btw, if you touch one of them you will probably end up dead because they're just that protective (Shanks does it in a more obvious way and Buggy could kill someone to protect Shanks but he would blame Shanks anyway and say he didn't do it because of him when he totally did).

There's just something about them now that screams how they want to go back to the way things used to be when they could live in their own bubble together, only the two of them. And there's this clear possessiveness because their love is only theirs and no one else's. And I believe them to be extremely protective in all stages of their relationship. When they were kids. When they were teenagers. Even when they were fighting. And even more, if they date again.

By the way, I just had the most adorable thought about lil kids Shuggy being this possessive. A little headcanon-- Roger always playing with them and showering them with love because of course he did, and he used to hold Buggy and go "He's mine!!! <33 My ray of sunshine!!" and Shanks instantly got so possessive and angry going "No!!! Mine!!" and Roger kept joking about it until Shanks cried and he had to let go of Buggy if he didn't want the kid to have a whole breakdown about it (Buggy didn't give a single fuck btw he liked to be with Rayleigh better).

[good-beans]

Yandere Milgram. What do you think? 🎤

Mmmmm… a prison full of society’s most unloved and forgotten people whose fates depends entirely on the love and support of others is the perfect recipe for some yandere disasters… I confess I haven’t seen much specific yandere media/tropes, but have some loose headcanons under the cut >:3 The wording skewed outside of milgram since the prisoners have more control there, but these could definitely happen within the prison just as easily.

Haruka: Spends all his time with the person he likes, doing anything for them and doing anything to impress them. Though these start off as positive shows of his love, they take a turn when he finds that their reaction to him becomes even stronger when he’s showing off his strength and control…

Yuno: Showers her object of affection in attention and gifts, knowing exactly what it is that makes them happy. When this warmth is returned genuinely, she gets intoxicated by it. She’s been seen to risk her own safety to really feel something, to get a thrill, so when she thinks she’s found someone who understands and feels the same as her, she doesn’t mind risking their safety as well.

Fuuta: He’s glad to find someone with the same interests as him, and the two spend hours doing their hobbies together. Those hours become days, and at some point he’s nonchalantly suggesting the person he likes go everywhere with him. He talks about the scumbags of society and how dangerous the world is, and before they know it, he’s convinced them to stay back at his place, where it’s safe, forever. He can be their hero, and watch over them always. 

Muu: She’s thrilled when she has someone she loves, spoiling them with everything she has. Sometimes jealousy/doubt creeps in, and she worries their love isn’t true (after all, she’s met way too many people who were fake to her and hurt her,) so she decides to have them prove it. At some point the tests she’s asking of them change from something they choose to do, to something she’s forcing them to endure.  

Shidou: So one option is that after what happened to his family, his situation would turn out similar to Fuuta’s: a well-meaning fear of what happened last time would result into a full possessive panic of keeping them at home where he can watch over them. I’m also thinking that if something did happen to them, his desperation/confidence in his own abilities would kick in early. He wouldn’t trust any other doctor with their care, and insist he can do the proper procedures himself, happy to have their life in his hands. 

Mahiru: Very similar to Muu, Mahiru’s feelings are pure when she starts spoiling her partner. She’s heard too many stories of cheating and falling out of love, and all the best romances involve major and risky tests of love – why not plan a few of her own in order to write the perfect love story?

Kazui: After a lifetime of denying himself of what he wants, someone reciprocating his feelings could completely break a damn of emotions in him. He throws himself into the relationship, loving and being loved, until that cat-like hunger gets the best of him. He starts taking and taking, keeping them home and in his arms because he can’t imagine ever going back to a life without this.

Amane: (I’m pretty sure yandere is a romantic thing, but if it can also be platonic:) Amane loves having someone her age that understands and accepts her wholly. Even if the other doesn’t share the same beliefs, they don’t judge Amane for them like the others do. She shows her love by saving their soul – she starts convincing them not to treat injuries, sometimes physically preventing them from doing so. If this person tries to tell adults, they always side with the diligent, pious, school-focused half of the pair, further convincing Amane that she knows what’s best for the person she cares about.

Mikoto: Finding someone that finally turns his attention away from job allows Mikoto to pour all that extra attention into them. The same obsession he’d usually have for his work now focuses on one person who makes him feel just as fulfilled and important. They’ve become the center of his world, and he wants to return the favor by becoming the center of theirs, whatever means necessary. He makes sure they spend all their time together, and even starts keeping tabs on them no matter where they are in the city. 

John: It’s like a miracle to find someone that makes him feel safe and relaxed. John revels in the feeling of having them around. Just hearing their voice, just seeing their face makes him incredibly calm. John’s always had a bit of a “exceedingly direct” approach to problem solving, so he decides it would be best to just keep them with him all the time, where he can see their face and hear their voice, no matter what it takes. 

Kotoko: Surprisingly, I think her situation would be similar to Haruka’s. She’s not used to getting attention/recognition for her vigilante work, so having someone shower her in that feels amazing. She ramps up her shows of strength, both with the criminals she’s tracking down and when training with/hanging out with the person she likes. Even when she takes things too far, there’s a little thrill they respect her and her strength

Es: (Same thing, keeping it platonic:) Es isn’t used to strong feelings of affection for another, they mention never giving much thought to it before – so when it hits them, it hits them hard. They become obsessed with knowing everything there is to know about the other, loving absolutely every piece of new information they discover. Prisoner or not, they’re thrilled to keep running Milgram’s machine on this person in order to know every last detail about them.

[kitkatsgalore]

now playing... ☆ track 03. pathetic love ☆ track 04. outsider ☆ track 05. why you hate... ☆ track 06. bleu

mini 와장창 track "visualizers," inspired by the ones yechan drew for the blue album! 🎶

part of #LUCYWEEK2025 | day 2 | prompt: all kinds of blue

[floorpancakes]

funny thought that just came to me do you think watanuki would start crying getting spooned for the first time because he's emotionally overwhelmed