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#cotton candy gfs
immisciblediscordsys · 3 months
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ayakanon art :DDD 🫡 - 🎞️
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grimstrawberry · 1 month
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stress doods of gwurls
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(+ psii but what is he if not a girl....?)
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You ARE the Answer!
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randomsunny-fan · 10 months
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There’s no homosexual activities going on here
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chubbie-bunnie-96 · 1 year
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Bitch I'm cute 😘
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mutandjne · 3 months
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green is my gf favorite color 🎀
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snowshinefivez5 · 10 months
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Fun little challenge with my sis @faylin0w0 Behold the gfs Shalay and Jammy 🩵🩷. Pretty much every 2 minutes we would trade art books from the sketching process until we finished coloring. I reccomend you guys give this challenge a try if you have fellow art buddies
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f0x-b0y · 1 year
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Goth Cotton.
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milkii-galaxii · 2 years
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i dont watch kirby but
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As sweet as honey obviously 😘 💛
ough i forgot my name is a food
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perditious · 2 years
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currently: will you come back to my corner?
tired.
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unyieldingstar · 1 year
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Alt!
Send me "alt!" and I'll introduce you to a charecter I've rped in the past, want to play in the future or are currently playing somewhere else!
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Lambdadelta from Umineko is one of the craziest people alive. Because you would think she's probably super smart and she talks hot shit.
...And then you realize she uses words like "super paper" to describe a technique for rock paper scissors, looks like a sentient starburst given human form, and is madly in love with her cat gf whatever we're gonna call her.
Hence why she's perfect in every way imaginable. And why I would always want to write her again at the drop of a dime.
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emmyrosee · 3 months
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this is for the non curse bf!sukuna
when you first start going out he wouldn’t know what flowers to get you. he could ask you but- who tf asks their gf ‘hey what flowers do you like?’ he thinks that’s lame. so guy brings 5-6 diff flowers just for you.
can you imagine, him all tattooed and brooding buying you flowers in a pretty flower shop😭😭i’m crying :((((((
OKAY BUT IF HE DOES IT TO LIKE, ASK YOU TO BE HIS GF???
Like originally he was just going to take you out on a few dates, enjoy the company and yuuji and his Ma off his back, but that plan crumbled when he started to be the one to text you first. When he started to initiate dates. When he started to feel butterflies in his chest when you laughed.
Yuuji so graciously told him he had feelings and should cuff you before you get tired of him, and the idea swirls for a bit in Sukuna’s head before one night at four am, he storms into yuuji’s room and in a pure panic asks “how do I ask her out?”
Yuuji grumbles and throws a pillow at his brother, “flowers and candy, go back to bed.”
But Ryomen does anything but. Because there’s so many flowers and so many candies, how will he know which is your favorite? And as much as he’d love to ask you, it would ruin the surprise of being so excited at being his girlfriend that you’d have to say yes- a little manipulative, perhaps, but he’s not perfect despite what he says.
So he kinda goes… crazy.
He buys you all sorts of candy, everything from sour to chocolate, to even some cotton candy grapes and gummy bear watermelon and more candy flavored candy, all to put in a small bag that dangles from his thick wrist.
Next is the flower shop, and that’s even more stressful because how is he supposed to pick between roses and peonies and assorted and god knows what other breeds of flowers there are- one time, as a kid, he saw yuuji give a little boy a fistful of yellow dandelions, can’t he just do that?
According to the swipe of his credit card after picking out seven bouquets…. No. Apparently not.
He lugs everything out to his car with grunts of efforts, texting you telling you to be home because the smell of flowers is making him nauseous and the candy is probably melting in the warmth of the sun.
SENT please tell me you’re home?
Schnookums (god he needs to change that, why’d you ever put yourself as something so feral in his phone?) why, you coming over??
SENT no I’m making conversation
Tf
Of course that question means I’m coming over
Schnookums yayyyy okay 🥺💙
He scoffs before making a floor to your house, nerves making him speed a little too fast and almost run a few too many red lights, and he’s grateful that the cops he passed have mercy on him and let him get to your house without a ticket or handcuffs.
He gathers his bundle back in his arms and blindly makes his way up your driveway, using the sheer grace of the gods watching over him to not trip and crush everything under him. He sneezes god knows how many times, and once he’s finally at your door, he doesn’t know how long it takes him to knock successfully, but after 5 tries, he finally nails it.
And after a few short seconds, you open the door with a gasp of excitement. “What did you do!”
“I wasn’t- fuck!” The flowers start to slip as he tries to peer over them to look at you. You’re quick to make a move to help him catch them. “Fuck. God damn it. Ugh.” He clears his throat, “I wasn’t sure what flowers to get, so… I bought them all.”
“Whats in the bag?”
“An absolutely feral amount of sweets.”
You’re beaming at him, so excited between the gesture and seeing him that you immediately toss your arms around him, the crinkling of the bouquets being what snaps you back to life.
“Ah shit.”
“Sorry! Sorry!! I just… this is so sweet,” you say, smiling.
“Well, I uhh…. I wanted… you and I’ve been kinda… going out for a while….”
“Yeah?” You ask, and with the way your eyes widen and jaw slacks slightly, you know what he’s going to ask.
And he knows you’re going to make him do it.
“And I really… really have enjoyed it.” He takes a deep breath, “not sure why, but-“
“Shut up,” you snicker.
“But I kinda… want to do it. More. And… not let you do it with other people.”
“Okay,” you giggle.
“And I’m told the only way to do that is to make you my girlfr-“
“YES!” You scream, wrapping your arms around him again, and when he makes a noise of protest, you grab the flowers to put them on the ground, hugging him again tightly.
Tightly enough his organs hurt and his breath can’t get into his body, but this feels so right, so good and so comforting that he’d let you do it forever. He kisses your head and cradles it, letting the bag rest against your back.
“I can’t believe you went through all this trouble for me,” you murmur against him.
He chuckles, “don’t thank me too much yet. We still need to find vases for all of these because I’ll be damned if I let my kind gesture die within twelve hours.”
“I don’t even know if I own a vase.”
He stiffens, and you snicker in his grip.
“Well then I hope your don’t like your kitchen sink too much.”
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lovebugism · 7 months
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Ok but what about Eddie dating a reader who snores and the gang is like wtf but he finds it cute.
ty for requesting anon! this is dedicated to everyone who gets sleepy at 5pm like i do hahah — eddie's girlfriend falls asleep during movie night and it's a big deal in the sweetest way (sleepy gf!reader, established relationship, 1.4k)
fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)
A masked serial killer slaughters a group of pretty teenage girls. Their screams are high-pitched and painfully artificial. The murderer’s chainsaw is way too loud and far too dramatic a weapon. The bright red blood splatters across the baby pink bedroom in several obnoxiously vivid splotches. 
Eddie Munson has never been more grateful to be alive in the golden age of slasher films — the absolute peak of godawful cinema.
He turns to the pretty little thing dozing on his shoulder and grins quietly to himself. 
You’re the purest essence of beauty in all forms, but especially compared to the barbaric horror flashing across the television screen across the room. In the darkness, the neon glow paints you in varying shades of blue, green, and dark red. 
You’re so pretty it hurts.
Eddie didn’t think he could love anything more than dumb slasher movies. Not until he met you, anyway.
“Tired?” he whispers to you when your lashes flutter across the apples of your cheeks.
It’s hardly seven o’clock — the sun has just barely set over the horizon — and more than anything, the tiny trailer is filled with fake screams and faker blood. Most people would be too horrified to be so drowsy. Not you, though.
Everyone’s always admired your relationship with sleep, but maybe just a little extra now.
Your features are blurry with the longing of slumber. They scrunch in refusal when you shake your head, cheek rubbing against the soft cotton of Eddie’s thrifted tee. “No,” you hum with a softness that says otherwise. “‘M just cozy…”
Everyone knows what that’s code for.
All the gang was over for movie night — some more begrudgingly than others (Steve, namely). The brunette boy shares a side eye with Robin on the other side of the couch before both of them turn to look at you. 
Lucas sits on the floor and stuffs his face with popcorn, which he almost chokes on when he laughs. Max giggles at the boy in response from where she’s sandwiched between him and Dustin.
Each of them can practically count down the seconds until you’re fully asleep.
You inhale once — deeply, sharply. The curly-haired boy turns his wrist to check his watch. 
“7 p.m…” Dustin observes with raised brows. He nods to himself like he’s impressed. “That’s gotta be some kinda record, right?”
“I’m pretty sure she was out by six when we were at Steve’s yesterday,” Robin tells him as she leans over Lucas’ shoulder for the popcorn bowl he’s holding hostage.
“Full on snoring by six-thirty,” Steve concurs through a mouthful of candy. “And her legs were on my lap, too, so I couldn’t move for, like, two hours.”
“What about last movie night?” Max questions with pinched brows. “I’m pretty sure she was asleep before it even started.”
Lucas shakes his head. “She was just napping, right? I’m pretty sure she woke up, like, halfway through.”
Dustin nods — the official connoisseur of you and all your sleepiness. You had been asleep by the time Steve turned The Outsiders on, but your internalized love for Dallas Winston had woken you part of the way through. 
“It had to be scrubbed from the records,” the boy explains like it’s something a whole lot more official than you just being tired. “It only counts if she stays asleep.”
“What if her eyes are closed, and she’s using your arm as a pillow, and you don’t have any feeling left in your fingers?” Robin questions with narrowed eyes, recounting the events from the last movie night in question. “What about that?”
“Still doesn’t count,” Dustin shakes his head with a feigned sympathy.
Eddie listens to them with a distant smile on his face. They’re not making fun of you exactly, just noticing all your little idiosyncrasies that he loves so much. It’s what makes you you — the quiet, sleepy girl that’s all but the glue of the group. 
If you’re somewhere else when everyone’s all hanging out together, and not snoozing on someone’s shoulder, something just doesn’t feel right.
“Isn’t she the fuckin’ cutest?” the boy muses amidst the light-hearted banter, the horror movie long forgotten. 
His bright smile and twinkling eyes are met with a group of deadpanned stares. 
It isn’t because you aren’t cute, because you are. Why else would Robin and Steve let you use them as pillows even after their appendages have long gone numb? You’re like a cat sleeping on their stomach — it’s too much of an honor to wake you. 
Their dumbfounded gapes are more so a result of Eddie’s adoration for you. Because you’re you, and Eddie’s… Eddie. 
You’re polar opposites. 
You’re quiet and sweet and gentle, and Eddie’s never been any of those things once in his life. 
You’ve brought out a softer side of him — one that none of them thought a brash metalhead like him could ever have. He talks to you far sweeter and far more gently than he’d ever speak to the rest of them. Mostly because he knows you get spooked too easily and that you always wince whenever people yell. And his PDA is an innocent kind, full of held hands and forehead kisses and boops to the tip of your nose. 
Eddie Munson is so soft for you that he lets you drool on his shoulder and unknowingly steal all the covers from him when you fall asleep during movie night. 
He’s so far gone for you that he’ll let you drag him to bed when most people his age are heading out to party for the night — just so you can drool on him and take all the covers from him in his bedroom, where you can sleep more comfortably than on the couch.
It’s all so sweet, it’s downright disgusting.
“It’s gross how in love the two of you are,” Steve monotones, the only one brave enough to say it out loud even though they’re all thinking it.
“I know,” Eddie affirms with a wide grin. “It’s amazing, huh?”
They all grumble under their breaths about it, obviously not as mushy with adoration as he is. 
It isn’t his fault they’re miserable because they don’t have their own soulmate who gets tired at 5 p.m. and snoozes on their shoulder accordingly. They’d be a lot less crabby if they had someone like you to gush about. 
Not you, though. ‘Cause you’re his and everything. But someone just like you, maybe.
Everyone dissipates when the credits of the movie start to roll — either to get more food, or use the bathroom, or stretch their aching limbs. 
Eddie stays unmoving. He doesn’t want to wake you up.
You begin to rouse on his shoulder, shifting as you wake with a deep inhale-exhale. Your eyes flutter slowly open, and through the haze of sleep, you notice the empty living room and the scrolling names on the television screen.
“’S the movie over?” you question, slurred with the heaviness of slumber.
Eddie nods lazily against the couch. 
He’s about as tired as you are now, with his legs cocked up on the coffee table and his head lolled back against the cushions. “Yeah. It’s okay, though. You didn’t really miss anything,” he assures with a crooked smile.
“Didn’t mean to fall asleep…” you murmur, like you’re embarrassed to have slept so soundly.
“I know,” the boy hums softly to you. “’S okay…”
Your temple rests against his shoulder once more. “Wake me up before you start the next movie?” you ask when Eddie presses a lingering kiss to your hair. Your eyes are already fluttered shut again.
“Sure,” he answers, despite lacking any real intention to wake you. 
He’d much rather let you sleep. He knows you need it. He doesn’t mind that you get tired before the sun has set, even though he knows how much you hate it. He couldn’t love it more, personally.
So, he lets you fall back asleep on his shoulder and tries to ignore how much it makes his heart swell. His ribcage shakes with the intensity of how much he loves you — how privileged he feels that you trust him enough to drool on his shoulder and not be embarrassed about any of it. You know he loves you too much for any of that.
“She still asleep?” Steve questions when the gang settles back in the living room. He rattles M&Ms in his palms before chucking a handful into his mouth. When Eddie nods, the boy snorts. “I’m glad it’s your arm falling asleep this time and not mine.”
Eddie’s glad for it, too.
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superhero--imagines · 7 months
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Being Sanji’s GF would include:
A/N: this is the ugliest banner I ever made I swear.
Tags: Female reader
* A man that is 6 ft +, can cook, and treats you with respect? I can’t believe we as a society weren’t simping for him before
* We already know that he loves pretty girls, so if you reciprocate his advances—he’s down hook, line, and sinker
* I feel like he’d fall hard and fast for someone a bit shy, with a soft form of kindness
* Sanji himself is so kind, even if it’s in these extremes depending on the gender of the recipient
* So seeing someone who kindness comes to so naturally, where it isn’t a flickering flame or a bright fire, but just a soft warmth that linger in all of their actions leaves him in awe
* “You’re amazing.”
* He’s still got a wandering eye though, so catch him randomly slapping himself or sitting with his face in his hands as he tries to restrain himself from ‘being unfaithful’
* “Hey Sanji?”
* “Hmmm.”
* “Have you ever thought about cheating on me?”
* The dishes he was washing clatters in the sink and he grabs your hand in both of his, kneeling in front of you
* “Never!” And he means it, he might look but he would never dream of being with someone other than you. “You’re the only person I want to be with.”
* I think as time goes on he gets a lot better at understanding why he feels the way he does, and eventually the flirtatious behavior cools down even though he’s still as kind as always because he realizes it comes from a place of craving validation instead of genuine love
* And honestly, now that he has you he doesn’t need it from anyone else anymore
* “(Y/N)-chan, can you get me the oregano?”
* You smile as you get it from the fridge, it’s not easy for him to ask you to do things
* He has the biggest goofiest grin on his face when you wrap your arms around his waist and rest your head on his shoulder
* Sanji would literally give you a romance as big as the world — or he’d try to at least
* “Sanji this is really lovely.” And you mean it, the candle lit dinner and all your favorite foods at the center of the deck
* “But um, I feel a little bad for Luffy.” It’s more than a little, there’s an entire waterfall of drool falling past his lips from his spot behind a pillar.
* His fingers curl under your chin, urging you to meet his gaze
* “There’s nothing to feel bad about, of course I would spoil the most important person in my life.”
* Your cheeks heat up from the words.
* “But Sanji—“ you look to the pillar seeing seven faces quickly duck, and a hand grab luffys still salivating head. “—they’re all staring!”
* If you could die from embarrassment you’d be six feet under
* “Let them stare, it’s because they’re dazzled by your beauty.”
* “Actually it’s because we’re hungry!” Luffy shouts, only to have his mouth covered by Nami.
* Sanji ends up making them a snack.
* His favorite hobby is pretending Chopper is your child when you guys go out
* “When are you guys going to stop pretending he’s your baby?” Zoro growls
* You look over at Chopper who’s happily sitting on Sanji’s shoulders, munching away on cotton candy
* “When he stops pretending to enjoy it,” You respond
* “That’s never going to happen!” Chopper shouts with a giggle
* He’s so greedy with you I swear
* You give him a kiss, he gives you back at least five
* You hold his hand, he keeps you glued to his side for the rest of the night
* “I know it’s ugly of me to get an inch and take a mile, but…around you I just can’t keep myself from trying.”
* He learns how to make all your favorite childhood foods, either from a relative or by studying old recipe books from your homeland
* And if you ever seem homesick or you’re feeling down he’ll suspense you with the dish
* “How did you learn to make this?” Your region is a far ways away from his usual French cuisine
* “I have my secrets.”
* Please cook for this man, just once, make a fancy dinner and have the whole crew pitch in as wait staff
* “You’re always taking care of us so this time we wanted to serve you!”
* He’ll eat half-burned pasta with tears of joy streaming down his face
* “This is the best meal I’ve ever had.”
* He’ll fall even harder for you if you have his wanted poster near your bunk bed
* “There’s a little red stain near my lips though—“
* “Ah, sometimes when I can’t see you at night I give it a little kiss for luck haha.”
* He’s dead. Sanjis dead.
* Cause of death: love sickness
* He died happy though
* He’s just such a simp for you man
* Like, take the shirt off his back and lay it over a puddle so you don’t get your feet wet, hear you’re craving a certain type of food and make it the next meal, buys you feminine hygiene products from the store with pride (along with some snacks he knows you like, kiss your hands and worship the ground you walk on type of love.
* Honestly what a dream
A/N: kinda wanna make a nsfw version too.
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velvetures · 9 months
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could i request a ghost x “strawberry/cutecore/hello kitty” reader?! basically just everything is pink and they are super bubbly :>
pls and ty 🙏🏻
Simon "Ghost" Riley & Cutecore/Hyperfeminine Aesthetic
a/n: I loved this request... but it was my first attempt at the aesthetic/vibe as a whole and I'm not sure if I hit the mark. I used this pic as my inspo. ):( Summary: What it's like for Ghost to have an "everything in pink, please." gf, and what kind of feelings go along with it. TW's: suggestive content 18+ ONLY, established relationship, possessiveness?, def not proofread (the usual), fem!reader.
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Of all the women that Simon ever entertained the thought of being, one like you didn’t initially even present itself as a remotely interesting option. The idea of someone such much different from himself sounded like nothing less than a good way of fucking up someone else’s -otherwise- normal life by inserting himself into it. You just always seemed so damn happy and excited about even the smallest of things; Practically amplifying the good feelings floating around in the air and blasting them right back at him. Never without something pink on and dressed up like you were minutes away from attending some kind of fairy party literally scared Ghost away from having anything to do with you.
You on the other hand, weren’t exactly sure what it was that made Ghost so averse to speaking to you more than a few words at a time. Yet made it your very private little mission of sorts to snoop and poke around until you found some kind of answer as to why such a massive and expertly lethal man couldn’t bear to stand within arms reach of you. He just intrigued you for some reason or another. Only getting glimpses of the man’s real self in his eyes -the only visible part of him- and having to make your next moves based off of nothing more than gut-feelings and the hope that you were reading his signals correctly.
At first, it crossed your mind that your preferred aesthetic of sorts could be a bit of the problem. For most people it might appear a bit too much, and when looking at Ghost dressed almost head to to in black with a skull painted on his masked face… there was good reason to assume it in the first place. What you didn’t know was that it was so much deeper than your affinity for lace-trimmed socks, Mary Jane’s, pearls, and practically anything hyper-feminine and in a shade of pink. Ghost didn’t believe you were weak or predisposed to acting childish. You held a massively significant job in journalism and worked harder than most people he knew at what you did. You just happened to enjoy everything around you looking like some damn cotton-candy tea party.
What bothered him was your sweet personality and an intrinsic value he held for just how fucking innocent you were towards him and everyone else around you. People could be utterly horrible right to your face, and you’d silently keep the hurt to yourself and never fight back against what they’d done. Revenge wasn’t something you cared for, while it was essential to Ghost’s motivation in his work and private life. For a long time he couldn’t balance his morals of being involved with you at all with the thoughts in the back of his mind about how much he might twist and form you into something unrecognizable. Something a lot less… pink. A person that didn’t enjoy such small little things like how a skirt had small pink flowers embroidered on it, or if the little bows you’d stick in your hair had a lace fringe on the edges.
Oh but how things changed when Ghost finally couldn’t stand looking at you without thinking about how nice it would be to have his arm wrapped around you, pulling you tight up against him to keep everyone from staring. The Lieutenant always had a weak spot for you and your sugar-sweet personality and looks. But goddamn did he start loving the color pink more than a professional murderer should. All the hues and tones of that fucking color began reminding him of you no matter where he was, or what he was doing. For the longest time, he’d been worried that he would be the one that changed you, all the while he was too deep inside his own mind to recognize that you were the one controlling the direction things were headed.
Just looking at you made him shudder with feelings of possessiveness and adoration. Standing there happy as could be with thigh-high white socks and a fluffy pink skirt, all dressed up just to go out to eat at a little late-night pub because he couldn’t stand the idea of having to show his face in the bright daylight. You knew to a certain extent that Ghost appreciated the way you lived your life just a bit more feminine than average… but the depths of his thoughts and ideas about you were surface level to say the least. He just knew what you looked like clinging to his arm walking down the street; His polar opposite and yet so happy to be close to him. A darling smile… pretty and glossed lips… frilly things on almost every piece of clothing you wore and just utterly adorable to him.
Knowing that gave him… fantasies.
Wanting to see all of the things he could buy for you to wear for him. Dress you up almost like his own little doll and get to show you off to anyone who’d look, only to have the pleasure of threatening them to do more than take one good glance. So delectable, squeezable; but for him and him alone. You were the princess Simon didn’t realize he wanted and unlocked this strange and insatiable urge to spoil the fuck out of you with every pretty pink or glittery thing you could wish for, just so he could take you home and watch you try it all on for him while sipping a bourbon on the couch.
Fuck… There wasn’t a better way to spend an evening. Well, almost.
Perfect didn’t count unless he got to see you under him, laying back on pink silk sheets you’d been adamant about buying for his house, watching your eyes roll back with every moment he made. Damn if he couldn’t make it more than fifteen minutes without needing to calm himself down, before needing to put you on your hands and knees so those pretty little fucking faces you made wouldn’t make him finish before he got started. If he was lucky he could leave hot and pink handprints on your ass for making him feel so good. Simon knew you weren’t sheltered. But to him you were still innocent. Kind in so many ways he didn’t comprehend or believe was humanly possible. For fuck’s sake, you allowed him to come into your life.
Him with his scarred hands, bullet holes, shitty disposition. A man who preferred destruction and death for it’s permanence and certainty. Simon, with his need to hide his own face and go by a name that lacked humanity. All of him starkly contrasted you in so many ways it made him spin with confusion and oftentimes guilt. Questioning why he’d been so weak as to touch you in the first place. Allow himself the chance at someone so full of life who could see the world -literally- through rose-colored lenses.
Yet you brought forth happiness and fulfillment that the soldier hadn’t found in his years of searching desperately for a purpose. He found someone he could visually see, and palpably touch who hadn’t been torn down or beaten into submission in one way or another. Sweet and innocent you had found such a simple yet powerful way of living life the way you wanted to. Ghost felt like he could protect you. Not only in the genuine aspect of loving you so much that he got physically ill at the thought of losing you to anything; but also because you were so full of life and love to give to everyone around you. He needed you. Selfishly. Then again, there needed to be more softness and genuine innocence and happiness too. And so long as he was alive and breathing, he’d always make sure you were safe.
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Reblogs & Comments are Appreciated <3
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