[decalcomanian]

ℒee 〃 twenty 〃 they/them 〃 multifandom 〃 evan peters centric ִ ࣪𖤐

MASTERLIST INTRO AO3 ࿁⠀⠀˙⠀⠀˖† ּ  ֗ ִ✧

⊹‧ 𓂃 !! requests, thirsts, and friendly chat in my askbox is welcomed ⋆‧

　　　 ᭄᭡⠀⠀⠀ ͏͏͏ 𓈒 ⠀⠀⠀ ͏͏͏18+ only blog⠀⠀ ͏͏͏ ཐི⠀⠀⠀ ͏͏͏ ⁎⠀⠀⠀ ͏͏͏ 八

you keep dancing with the devil... one day he's gonna follow you home.

© decalcomanian 2026 do not copy or plagiarize my work , credited reposts are allowed.

[decalcomanian]

rest in peace james patrick march you would've loved house tour by sabrina carpenter

[decalcomanian]

loving the new theme btw!! just by curiosity, who is the person in your icon rn? it's so pretty!! <33

OMG THANK YOU FOR NOTICING LIA (blushes) and this is my man sebastian michaelis from my fav anime everrrrr black butler!

i'll edit my intro post later i cant be doin shit

[decalcomanian]

Hi hi! Absolutely LOVE ur aesthetic!

I was wondering if you perchance rp or write 1x1 with folk? If not no worries! Have a wonderful day! :)

first of all, thank you!

unfortunately i don't rp and i haven't been on tumblr long enough to know what 1x1 huhu i'm sorryyy ToT

[decalcomanian]

to all my evan simps i encourage you to larp the beauty fx just to thirst over cooper madsen. show isn't good but he's so hot. genuinely all you need to know about him is that he's tough, self-actualized, a sweetheart, and heroic because ry*n m*rph* refused to flesh out his character properly & focused on glistening abs and sweaty backshots instead. horrible show 2/10 at most with poor delivery of intended message. points added for evan peters' dilf facecard

[decalcomanian]

my personal headcanons for peter maximoff's age across the movies ᯓ★

x-men days of future past : 17/18 years old, gets called kid by logan, baby face present, awkward teenager haircut. film is set in 1973

x-men apocalypse : late 20s, 27 years old, ashamed about still living in his mom's basement, calls himself a loser, no more baby face but retains the unserious "youthfulness" aspect. film is set in 1983

x-men dark pheonix : 30s, less "youthful" and seen with some stubble, significantly more mature. film is set in 1992 (genuinely horrific timeline set-up)

[decalcomanian]

peter maximoff dates an older!reader

It’s no secret that your younger boyfriend Peter Maximoff absolutely reveres you, following his lovely girlfriend around like a lost, overgrown puppy just because he loves you so much. Peter likes noise, he likes being the loudest one in the room, likes being the funniest, the fastest, the most impossible to ignore. It’s easier that way for him, easier to always seem to stay ahead so people never get the chance to look at him too closely and realize he’s just a guy trying very hard to seem effortless.

Then there’s you: you who never rushes, moving through the world with certainty that fascinates him. Papers organized neatly under one arm, sleeves rolled up while grading assignments, calm even when the mansion feels like it’s one bad day away from collapsing in on itself.

You remember important things: where he left his headphones, when he forgets to eat, the fact that he talks faster when he’s nervous and quieter when he’s upset.

Sometimes, Peter feels like a tornado, orbiting someone sturdy enough not to get swept away. And he adores it, dating someone more mature than him feels like standing still for the first time in his life without getting bored. 

You steady him without making him feel small for needing it, listening when he rambles too much, even seeing through him when he’s showing off (which is often). It makes him want to impress you anyway, which is how he ends up currently talking too much about a mission that absolutely does not require this much storytelling. 

“And then Scott’s yelling, obviously, because apparently ‘don’t touch that’ means I’m actually not supposed to touch that-”

You laugh softly from where you’re sitting beside him on the couch, knees tucked under you. “Hmm, apparently.” you say, feigning initial interest.

Peter points at you like you’re validating years worth of emotional struggle. “Right? So I grab the thing before it explodes-”

“Sooo heroic.” You tell him.

“Extremely heroic, actually.” he says, laughing.

You hum at that, smiling into your mug as you take another sip. And there it is again, that feeling, that awful, fluttery nervousness he gets around you sometimes. Even now, even after months into dating, he still catches himself wanting your approval like it’s sunlight.

That feeling is especially strong when you’re looking at him quietly, like right now. You’re not laughing anymore, just watching him with this soft expression that makes his chest too tight. 

“...What?” he asks, suddenly self-conscious.

“Oh, nothing.” you say, pushing it away casually.

“Babe.” he pouts, which makes you set your mug down carefully on the coffee table, turning toward him fully now. 

“You know,” you tell him softly, “...you don’t always have to show off for me.”

With how fondly you said it, lacking any bit of exasperation and annoyance, Peter forgets how to breathe normally. Looking down, he rubs the back of his neck with a nervous laugh. 

“Yeah, well…” he fakes a cough, gazing away to preserve whatever charm he had left.

“Mm,” you lean a little closer. “I like you when you’re quiet too.”

Peter’s stomach flips embarrassingly hard. He opens his mouth to make a joke, because of course he does, but then you reach out to touch his jaw.

Everything in him short circuits, even when it’s just a thumb brushing against his flushed cheek. But your eyes flick down to his mouth for half a second before returning to his eyes, to which he goes completely still, staring at you with wide, hopeful eyes.

“You’re nervous.” you murmur, almost amused to how already wrecked he looks.

“N-No, I’m not…”

“No?” you say, dragging a finger over the line of his jaw.

“Okaymaybealittle.” he blurts out under his breath, earning him a smile from you that devastates his poor little heart.

You lean in, slower than he’d like but kiss him anyway. This is unlike the stolen kisses in hallways or the breathless ones after missions. Your lips move deliberately, hand sliding into silver locks as you tilt closer, and Peter makes this helpless little sound against your mouth that he’ll absolutely deny later.

Oh God, Peter thinks to himself, you’re initiating. You, his calm, composed girlfriend, kissing him like you’ve thought about it all day. The fact that you actually could’ve made his brain  melt instantly.

His hands find your waist on instinct, gripping gently as you climb into his lap without breaking the kiss. Peter's eyes flutter shut, completely overwhelmed by the fact that you’re choosing to take control for once and the fact that he likes it way more than expected.

Peter thinks you know exactly what you’re doing to him when you kiss him deeper and more purposely, running your hands across his shoulders as if to aim for his total ruin.

When you finally pull apart, Peter looks genuinely dazed, lips pink, breathing uneven. It’s the cutest sight you could possibly see, boyfriend dazed like a milk-drunk kitten. 

You brush your nose lightly against his. “There,” you whisper. “...You’re all cute when you’re quiet.”

He stares at you for a long moment before blurting: “…I think I'm in love with you.” in a voice both rushed and soft.

You could only laugh before kissing him again anyway.

[decalcomanian]

who should i do next for my "boobs, ass, or thighs?" series?

cooper madsen

jimmy darling

kit walker

Voting ended onMay 24

[decalcomanian]

hii. I've gone through substance abuse in the past too, and while I haven't had legal trouble, at some point I flew way too close to the sun. just wanted to say that things do get better after a while, but it is important for you to keep busy in one way or another.

maybe not the best advice, but gradually shifting my addictions to something less harmful over time did help and now I'm "recovered", per say (ej. Benzo→ Cigarette→ Nicotine gum→ Nothing)

Wishing u the best

this is so thoughtful anon 🥺🥺 i never thought ranting on tumblr dot com would give me genuine advice 🫂

in terms of the substance abuse my nic addiction isn't even that bad, but i am currently switching from cigarettes to vape pens. i've purchased my first pack of nicotine pouches but i HATED the after taste. i didn't think nicotine gum was an option omggg thank you so much anon

i've been struggling more on alcohol, if i'm not sitting at home writing fics i'm probably outside getting wasted at night doing some real stupid stuff. it's pretty common for me to get drunk 3 nights a row on average. this month's worst has been 5 nights a row.

recovery is gonna be so hard for me because i struggle the most with impulse control 🥳🥳 (it's literally my disorder: impulsive type ADHD). but i HAVE been keeping busy, so thank you for the validating advice. my family has got me to join an art community as a form of group recovery. i'm currently taking local digital art commissions #job

thank you so much for the concern, i feel less stupid for my dumb decisions leading me to my current predicament ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

[decalcomanian]

working on...something...

this is @melsimps idea for that julian x reader x jpm three way

[decalcomanian]

i'm sooo in the mood for JPM and julian dillinger... trying to decide with rich man to exploit sexually rn...

[decalcomanian]

i should lowkey finish my wips but i don't have the motivation...maybe if someone were to send a request... a short little drabble idea...for my mind to work on...cuz i love microdosing on writing...thanks

[decalcomanian]

ᯓ୨ৎ "BOOBS, ASS, OR THIGHS?"

pairing : colin zabel x gf!reader info : vignette, fluff word count : 1.4k

It was a Friday night (pasta night, specifically) after one too many glasses of wine when you decided to pose the question to your poor boyfriend. It wasn’t a drunk question either, just a spur of the moment softened around the edges, relaxed in the comfortable intimacy that had settled into your relationship over the past few months. The spaghetti dishes had long since been abandoned in the sink, music playing low from your speakers while the two of you lounged across the couch, Colin’s arm stretched behind you.

You were curled against his side, lazily scrolling through your phone when you suddenly laughed, piquing Colin’s interest as he set down the remote control, gaze drifting from the late night cooking show he was previously paying attention to.

“What?” he asked, already smiling just because you were.

You turned the screen toward him. “Somebody online asked their boyfriend: ‘Boobs, ass, or thighs?’ and apparently it started a war in the comments.”

Colin immediately looked wary, as if he could tell he sealed his fate by asking the question. “Okay…”

You grinned slowly, leaning on his shoulder and looking up at him like a sly cat. “So… Colin Zabel.”

“Oh no.”

“Boobs, ass, or thighs?”

He stared at you like you’d just placed him under interrogation, nervous chuckle let out with his dimples as he looked down to shake his head. For a moment, he genuinely tried to dodge it. “I feel like there’s no right answer here.”

“There isn’t,” you said cheerfully. “It’s a matter of opinion.”

He rubbed a hand over his face, already blushing. “Can I plead the fifth?”

“Nope.”

You shifted so you could see him better, chin propped on your hand, thoroughly entertained now. Colin groaned quietly, head tipping back against the couch as his girlfriend indulged in his dilemma.

“This feels like a trap, babe,” he muttered.

“It’s not a trap,” you said. “I’m literally just asking your preference.”

You laughed and he looked at you for a second too long, fond despite himself and completely doomed. He knew you weren’t actually judging him, which almost made it harder. There was no escape hatch of irony or embarrassment to hide behind.

“Okay,” he said finally, sitting up a little straighter like he was preparing to testify in court. “Can I explain my answer first?”

Your eyes widened in delight. “Oh my god, yes.”

He pointed at you accusingly, already melting under your watchful gaze. “See? This is exactly why I’m nervous.”

“You’re adorable. Continue.”

Colin exhaled deeply, visibly gathering courage for what was objectively a harmless conversation but somehow felt monumental anyway. “I feel like… okay… uhm… personality matters, definitely.”

This makes you burst out laughing, lightly hitting his shoulder. “Colin!”

“No, I’m serious!” he insisted, flushed already. “I’m saying context matters. It’s not like I’m walking around categorizing women based on their body-”

“Detective,” you interrupted gently, holding his chin, “...answer the question.”

He looked at the ceiling briefly, then back at you with the expression of a man accepting his fate.

“…Boobs. Uhm, yours, specifically.”

The word came out quiet and respectful, somehow… like he was trying not to offend the concept of breasts, even taking the time to correct himself and defend that yours were the only pair he ever would revere. You stared at him for half a second before laughing so hard you nearly slid off the couch. This makes Colin immediately defensive.

“Why are you laughing?!”

“Because you said it like you were embarrassed of it!”

“I kind of feel like I am!”

Still laughing, you grabbed his arm and leaned against him again. He was red all the way up to his ears now, but smiling too, unable to help it when you looked this entertained.

“So… you’re a boobs guy.” you teased.

He groaned softly into his hand. “Please never say it like that again.”

“I will.”

Colin shook his head, but after a moment his arm tightened around your waist, pulling you closer almost unconsciously. His voice dropped quieter then, sincerity slipping back in despite the embarrassment.

“I just think they’re…” He paused, immediately regretting continuing when you catch his gaze drift down to your chest.

You looked up at him expectantly. “They’re what?”

He glanced at you, then away again with a shy smile. “Nice.” That only made you laugh harder.

But a few minutes later, when the teasing had died down and the room had settled soft and warm around you again, Colin leaned down to kiss you with lingering affection, and you noticed the faint, stubborn flush still coloring his cheeks the entire time.

“You know,” you said after the laughter finally settled, “that answer actually raises more questions.”

Colin immediately narrowed his eyes, not wanting to add to his embarrassment. “No.”

“Oh, absolutely yes.”

He was already smiling despite himself, slouched deeper into the couch while you turned toward him fully now, knees tucked under you. The wine had left him warm and loose enough to stay instead of retreating, even though he could already tell where this was going.

“You can’t just say ‘boobs’ in the shyest voice imaginable and then leave it there.”

“I think I can.”

“Nope.” You poked his side lightly. “Explain yourself.”

Colin covered part of his face with one hand, groaning softly. “Why are you interrogating me like this?”

“Because you’re cute when you’re embarrassed.”

You were smiling too brightly for him to have any real defense against it. He looked at you for a long moment, clearly debating whether he could survive refusing, then he sighed the sigh of a man accepting inevitable defeat.

“Okay, but you’re making this weird.”

“I haven’t even started making it weird.”

“That sentence alone made it weird.”

You laughed again, and Colin felt his chest tighten with affection so sudden it nearly distracted him from his own embarrassment. God, he liked you. Too much, probably.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “They’re just… comforting.”

You blinked, surprised into softness. “Comforting?”

“Yeah.” His voice got quieter, more thoughtful now that he was actually trying to articulate it. “Not in a creepy way, more emotionally.”

“I didn’t say creepy.”

“I know, but I needed to establish that for my own dignity.”

You grinned. “Go on, Detective.”

Colin huffed out a laugh and looked down at his hands before continuing. “I think it’s because they feel…” He paused again, searching. “Warm and safe, maybe.” He looked up at you cautiously, gauging your reaction. “Like if someone lets you be close to them like that, it’s because they trust you to be close to their heart.”

Your teasing expression softened almost immediately at the answer, just wanting to kiss his stupid again the more you listened to your man talk.

“And,” he added quickly, flustered by your sudden sincerity, “I mean, obviously they’re attractive too. I’m not pretending this is entirely philosophical.”

“Obviously.”

“But I don’t know.” He shrugged helplessly. “It’s not even really about looks half the time. It’s just intimate to be closer to them. It’s not my fault that your boobs are right in front of your heart.”

You stared at him for a second, visibly trying not to melt. “Oh my god,” you murmured. “That’s the most Colin answer you could’ve possibly given.”

His face flushed deeper. “Is that bad?”

“No,” you said immediately, moving closer until your leg draped over his. “It’s really sweet.”

He groaned quietly, dropping his head back against the couch. “I should’ve lied. I should’ve said thighs and moved on with my life.”

“But then I wouldn’t have learned you associate boobs with emotional vulnerability.”

“That is not what I said.”

“It kind of is.”

Colin laughed despite himself, shoulders shaking slightly as he looked over at you again. You were watching him with such obvious affection now that it made him bashful in a completely different way.

“You know what the worst part is?” he admitted.

“What?”

“I really thought I was going to sound suave somehow.”

You burst out laughing, leaning forward to kiss him before he could hide behind the embarrassment again. Colin kissed you back immediately, smiling into it, one hand settling warmly at your waist. When you pulled away, still grinning, you brushed your thumb against his cheek. 

“For the record?”

“Mm?” his eyes were half-lidded when he gazed at you.

“I think your answer was perfect.”

a/n : i got too excited with this one lmfaoooo my baby is a boob guy and i will die on this hill. maybe this will develop into a mommy kink wink wonk

[decalcomanian]

JPM has been posted! i'm also open to suggestions since i looove writing for this

which character should i write for next in my "boobs, ass, or thighs?" series?

jimmy darling

colin zabel

kit walker

Voting ended onMay 17

[decalcomanian]

colin zabel wins the voting!!!!

i was hoping for this cuz i already wrote it anyway hahaha (sweats) it will be posted in a few hours :P

[decalcomanian]

JPM has been posted! i'm also open to suggestions since i looove writing for this

which character should i write for next in my "boobs, ass, or thighs?" series?

jimmy darling

colin zabel

kit walker

Voting ended onMay 17

[decalcomanian]

I'M SO FUCKING WET RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!

[decalcomanian]

ᯓ🗡∘ "BOOBS, ASS, OR THIGHS?"

pairing : james patrick march x wife!reader info : vignette, mostly comedy word count : 0.4k tag : @v-inthecortez

The question was, in James Patrick March's opinion, one of the most catastrophically inelegant questions ever posed within the walls of his hotel. He looked genuinely offended by it, clasping a hand over the lapel of his blazer.

The longue of the hotel was eerily empty while you reclined beside him on the velvet sofa, thoroughly entertained already. Liz Taylor, standing nearby, leaning on the bar counter with the exhausted expression of a woman who had long since accepted that this was her life now, pinched the bridge of her nose.

James adjusted his cufflinks with painstaking dignity. “My dear,” he said at last, sounding scandalized, “....must attraction always be reduced to anatomy? What a tragically modern affliction.”

Liz, who asked the question, laughed. “So that’s a no?”

“It is a rather refined answer in contrast to the absurdity of the question.” James corrected smoothly. “A woman’s allure resides in details, Lizzy. One must think of the elegance of her posture, the intelligence of her wardrobe, the subtle artistry of perfume. Ah! Gloves, especially. As well as a well-tailored silhouette. There is nothing more sensual than a turn of a wrist while holding a wine glass.”

You raised your husband a brow. “You sound eighty years old.”

“In fact, I am one hundred-and-thirty.” he protests, making Liz snort loudly into her drink.

James continued as though he were lecturing at university. “True beauty lies in presentation, eliciting grace and mystery. The essence of a true seductress lies in her ability to suggest confidence beneath tease, much like a burlesque.” He gestured faintly toward you without even looking in your direction. “For instance, my wife possesses extraordinary taste in fabrics such as velvet, silk, and structured gowns-”

“She asked what body part you liked best,” you interrupted, trying not to laugh.

“And I am telling you,” James said with perfect seriousness, “...that class eclipses physical preference every time.”

The room dissolved into amused murmurs. You shook your head, smiling into your wine glass as you stood from the sofa.

“Such a gentleman,” you teased, cocking an exasperated sigh towards his path.

“Finally, the recognition I merit.” he quipped. 

You rolled your eyes and turned to walk away toward the ballroom doors, silk draping elegantly around your figure as the chandeliers caught in your jewelry. "I think I've had enough to drink. I'll be upstairs if you still need me to entertain your lecture on class."

James, obsessed as he is, watches you leave the room, a pause in his informative tangent on how elegance overpowers indecency.

Then, very subtly, his gaze dropped for half a second at the sway of your hips, showing him the slight shake of your buttocks beneath the silk posterior of your dress before a smug little smirk curled at the edge of his mouth.

Liz, not needing her observational skills as a bartender, saw it immediately. “Oh, you hypocrite.”

James didn’t even blink, he simply lifted his drink with aristocratic composure, brows raised in false nonchalance as he tried his best to conceal the pleased grin beneath his perfectly neat mustache.

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean.”

a/n : ik he likes some rump and his favorite position is doggy