#so why not have them pose for a magazine?

[zoe-oneesama]

They're checking your insta to make fun of your outfits.

Ko-fi | Patreon

#lol this is kind of a trial run for this idea I have #I have so many saved outfits for the characters that I didn't get to use #so why not have them pose for a magazine? #this first one feels like the 'adventures with mommy's credit card' series by katydoodles #my art #ml art #chloe #zoe #chloe bourgeois #zoe lee #miraculous ladybug #style princess #fashion

[some-bunniii]

Lucifer meeting an artist reader

・❥ The King of Hell admires your paintings

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

x: reader is g/n :) no use of pronouns or y/n

warnings: some raunchy details of your painting & mild swearing

When you arrived in Hell, the first thing you did was scream.

Where were you? Why was it so hot? What happened to your bed?!

“You’re in Hell, kid.” A blue bat-faced man had broke the news, as you stood helpless and confused on the street.

Hell? Like, demons and dark satanic magic kind of Hell?

That couldn’t be right. Were you that bad of a person to deserve such a fate? Did the few times you passed the Salvation Army donation bucket without dropping a coin damn you to this place?

Your death was fuzzy, a trail of shattered memories that could only give you bits and pieces of your final days. Did you go quickly in your sleep? Maybe, you hit your head so hard it caused you some kind of post-death amnesia?

Whatever had happened, you were here now with no way out.

During your first few days scouring for answers, you began to notice that Hell had an eerie similarity to life above ground. There were clubs, casinos, concerts. Heck, even TV! Sure, the things broadcasted were dark and sometimes disgusting.. but at least you had something to watch.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all? At least, compared to being thrown into dark, fiery pits for all of eternity like some cruel game of sink or swim.

Minus the people, of course. Most of them were pretty bad. Your first day watching a man get shot in the chest and lines of cocaine across tables in a diner made you decide to stay away from the streets of the city.

Which meant you had to get busy making a life for yourself. It started with working odd jobs as a bartender or a bell-hopper. You’d scrap together enough money to head to the nearest art supply store, and fill your bag with paints and charcoal pencils.

“You an artist or something?” The clerk had asked you as she scanned your items, taking note of your vast amount of diverse tools you were slowly collecting every time you stopped by.

“I usually paint, but yes, I used to do all kinds of mediums professionally when I was.. alive,” You had whispered that last part out with a pang of sadness, the reality of your situation still a fresh wound in your mind.

You had found an ad for an art studio, ran by a demon named Alexandre. You had showed him a few of your pieces, some pretty landscapes, a rendition of the Starry Night Sky which you had replaced the backdrop to be Pentagram city instead of whatever little village it was originally, and a self portrait.

“You got talent, i’ll give you that,” He had hummed, as his eyes scanned your paintings with intrigue, “But the subject? Not really what we’re looking for.”

“What do you mean?” You had asked, confusion evident in your voice.

“We’re in Hell, demons ain’t into pretty ponies and happy, little trees. They want more— eh how do i put this — sinful behavior?”

“Like…?”

“Like tits or anything that can be turned into a kink. They like blood and guts, and dead people splayed around. Dead angels too. Stuff like that.”

Tits? Dead people? You didn’t have much practice with that! At least not enough to make a career out of it.

But you had agreed anyway, this was your only shot. You stayed up late into the night, sometimes even into the early mornings, perfecting your skill when it came to much more risqué visuals. You would buy stacks of pornograohic magazines, flipping through for poses to memorize.

Slowly, you began to master the craft, and your time at the studio increased as you finally settled into life in Hell.

All you had to do was churn out painting after pastel after acrylic in the little cramped room you now called home. Alexandre would then take your pieces and sell them to the highest bidder. You’d get a percentage of the commission, using the money for whatever necessary.

Seeing as you could be mugged at literally any point in time, or anywhere for that matter, you made sure to keep a large sum of cash locked away in a double-bolted safe.

“You know Ozzie’s, that club down in the Lust Ring?” Alexandre had approached you one day, excitement in his eyes.

You shook your head as you sat behind the easel, your brush an inch from the canvas.

“Run by Asmodeus, one of the literal seven deadly sins?”

You shook your head once more.

“Fuck, you still have a lot to learn. Well, he really likes your art. He wants to buy a bunch of paintings for his club, and he’ll drop a shit ton of cash too. Ya think you can handle it?”

Your eyes had widened when he told you the exact price this sin guy was willing to pay. You had jumped from your seat, shaking his hand in profuse thanks, before scurrying off to gather more supplies.

And for a time, that’s how it went. You’d sell your steamiest paintings to Asmodeus, and other private commissions you took one after the other.

Apparently, your painting hung up in Ozzie’s was getting a lot of attention. Especially from a certain spider demon named Angel Dust.

After hearing Charlie’s decision to look for another member of their staff— someone who’d be in charge of decorating the premise with promises of love and tranquility up in Heaven— Angel Dust had taken a few snaps of your work with his phone, before showing it to Vaggie and Charlie. He had complimented your work, claiming it was ‘the best’ oil paintings he’d ever seen.

Although, in his line of work, he probably hadn’t seen many to compare yours so.

“ls this what we want in our hotel?" Vaggie had asked, motioning to a woman on the canvas that was drenched in sweat and white fluid, her private parts exposed to the audience as she posed suggestively on a stripper pole.

To which Charlie has responded, "I think it's... unique! You can definitely see she knows how to, um, really bring the scene to life! l'm sure she'll be open to creating our vision!"

Your phone had rung one night, with a voice on the other end begging you to come to her hotel and at least hear her offer for a new job.

Which lead you to the Hazbin Hotel, a slightly run down building that obviously needed more work. Inside and out.

“Oh my gosh! Hi there! My name is Charlie, and this is my hotel! it’s such a pleasure to meet you!”

“Thanks.. but I don’t see many guests around.” You had told her, your eyes darting around the lobby as you absorbed your surroundings.

“Well, we’re still trying to get our name out there. We’re not just any hotel, we’re a hotel set on redeeming sinners!” She exclaimed with pride.

“Redeem?” You had asked her, an eyebrow raised in disbelief.

She shook her head vigorously, “This hotel.. it’s going to be amazing! We’re going to turn Sinners into well.. non-sinners! They’ll be rehabilitated, and have morals! And honor! Heaven won’t be able to do anything but welcome them as angels!”

This idea had sounded a little far-fetched when you first heard it.

“You’ll be in charge of making art that reflects such views! Something that will make Sinners go, ‘Wow! Now that’s where I want to go!’”

“What’s in it for me?” You had asked.

“Well you’ll have your own room, and your own little studio too! I’m sure it’s much bigger than the one you already have. Plus we have a bar, and good company!”

You turned your head to the small crowd of demons a few feet away. A pornstar, a gambler, a snake guy with weird little walking eggs, and a really creepy man in a red coat that shot you a wide smile with eyes that seemed to stare right through your soul.

This was good company?

You contemplated her words, thinking deeply. Did you really need to leave the studio you were already a part of? You already had a room and place to paint, anyway.

Charlie must have noticed your hesitation to accept before quickly adding,

“Anddd you can sell your pieces here too! Plus, you can keep a hundred percent of the earnings.”

You perked up at that, the money made from your art would be... all yours? And, you’d get a breather from the drawing people having sex? That didn’t sound so bad after all!

“Deal!” You had reached out a hand, shaking hers with delight.

It had taken you a day or two to map out the interior of the hotel and figure out what could go where. You began to slowly brainstorm, what could make a sinner stare at a canvas and want to redeem themselves?

During your time on earth, you studied many artists through history. Most notably however, were those from the Renaissance. You remembered walking through the Sistine Chapel when you were younger,

staring at awe of the paintings of winged angels and heavenly skies.

You perked at that thought. That was it! The inspiration for your paintings, an ethereal perspective on what one would find in heaven. The feelings of bliss and care-free joy.

You spent your first few days in an undisturbed area of the hotel, it was a large room on the farthest side of the lobby. It must’ve been a guest room at one point, but other than a bed and few cushions that the ‘Radio Demon’ had placed for you, it was empty.

It was quiet enough that you could sit there, undisturbed, as you drew upon your memories and vast knowledge of histories in art as you slowly began to bring your ideas to life. Slowly, the room also took form into being yours, personal knick-knacks and stacks upon stacks of blank canvases waiting to bring your visions to life.

At the end of every day, you'd come out with your hands covered in charcoal and paint, your hard work on full display.

You had even grown closer to the other residents in the hotel, beginning to see them as more than their initial appearance. Even Alastor, who still kind of gave you the creeps, you had regarded as someone you could speak to without hesitation.

You’d sit on the couches with Angel Dust, drowning in popcorn as you watched whatever was on TV for the night. Sometimes, you’d sit with Husk at the bar as you listened to his stories from his days at the casino and as an Overlord.

It was there, when Charlie had summoned the courage to call her father, Lucifer, the King of Hell, to come visit the hotel and decide on getting her that meeting with the higher powers in Heaven.

Upon hearing about Lucifer's impending visit, you felta mixture of nerves and excitement. You've heardstories about him-his charisma, his power--but you never expected to meet him, let alone showcase your art to him. Would he even like them? He's no doubt seen much more beautiful sights.

As preparations for Lucifer's visit got more chaotic by the minute, you found yourself back in your Atelier, quickly cleaning up your room and berating yourself for any little mistakes you found in your paintings. Each stroke of the brush carried with it a sense of urgency, a desire to impress not just your friends at the hotel, but also the King of Hell himself.

The current piece you were working on was your most intense one yet. It depicted that of an almost nude man, flying high in the skies. His back was faced towards you, his face hidden from view. He was faced towards the sun, which bathed him in a warm glow. Arms outstretched, knees curled in, it seemed as if the angel was going to give the sun a large bear-hug.

It wasn’t until you heard loud commotion in the lobby did you realize Lucifer had arrived. Quickly dropping the brush you were holding, you sneaked down the stairs and quickly neared the archway of the lobby.

Peaking your head out, you canned the large room. Until your eyes locked in a pale figure. Lucifer.

He was beautiful, definitely held the looks of an angel that fell from heaven. His light blonde hair curled elegantly around his face. The candles from the chandelier above basked him in an ethereal glow, as though he could replace the sun itself. Just like the angel from your painting.

His eyes reminded you mostly of a snake. Calculating and cold, but holding so much wisdom and depth. There was a slight sadness there as well, as though itate at him slowly, consuming his soul. It was masked incredibly well though, and you only caught a glimpse before it disappeared.

His attitude toward his daughter made your heartmelt, it was obvious he cared about her in the way heacted and spoke to Charlie, even if his absence didn't speak so fondly of him.

As Lucifer and Alastor butted heads, you quickly scurried back to your room. You had hoped to finish your work-in-progress by the time he arrived, but the struggle to get those damn angel wings to be anatomically correct was a pain.

You hurriedly continued your work, trying to calm your nerves by busying yourself with the painting in front of you.

Charlie's voice broke you out of your concentration soon after, multiple footsteps closing in on where your room lay. You shot up from your seat, and stood up straight, ready to meet the man of the hour.

You couldn't help but feel a flutter of anticipation mixed with apprehension as they approached your make-shift gallery.

Charlie, Vaggie, and— wow, he looked so much better up close— Lucifer stepped through the doorway.

“Dad, this is the newest addition to our staff! They are in charge of helping to inspire our future guests through the power of art!" Charlie proclaimed with glee, pulling you by the arm towards her father.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, your majesty. I apologize for being so messy, I was just finishing up another painting." You had greeted him softly.

"Don't worry, you look great," He assured, a gleam in his eyes, "and the pleasure is all mine, anyone who is willing to help my little girl is someone worth meeting,"

You stood there for a moment. Unsure of where to go next, before you felt a slight nudge from Charlie that pulled you back to reality, "Why don't we take a look at your paintings? I promise you, Dad, they are amazing!" She squealed softly.

Beckoning Lucifer forward, you took him through each painting. You described your feelings for each piece, and what made you choose them for the hotel.

You rambled on and on, and Lucifer never said anything, he just listened as you spoke.

Which made you nervous, what was he thinking? Did he like them, or was he just waiting for you to stop talking so he could quickly escape to something of more interest to him? The thought made sweat dribble down your forehead.

To your surprise, Lucifer's reaction to your art was not what you expected. Instead of dismissing it as mere frivolity, he studied each piece with genuine interest, his expression thoughtful and contemplative.

He mostly stayed quiet, but once in awhile would throw in a joke here and there if he noticed anything of interest in the paintings.

His goofy nature that you caught onto watching him earlier was barely evident though, unlike when he was trying to impress his daughter.

After finishing the small tour, you turned to him in anticipation. Your hands nervously rubbing together, as you shot a glance to Charlie, and she gave you an uncertain look. You both held the same question in your gaze: What is he thinking?

"These paintings.." Lucifer began, his voice low and melodic, "Are different than most i've seen down here, not just some scandalous display, but with real meaning. They evoke emotions long buried, memories of a time before.. all this."

His words caught you off guard, and you found yourself nodding in agreement, unable to tear your gaze away from his intense eyes.

The one he was staring at in particular was a recreation of The Garden of Eden by Jan Breghal, a painting that depicted the place where humanity was birthed, and where it fell.

“Does it look like.. how you remembered?" You had asked slowly, if anyone could validate the truth in your work, it would be him.

"Actually, this is much prettier. The real deal doesn't do your painting justice," He replied, "It was so boring, just green on green."

Also," He added, "An unfortunate lack of ducks. Humanity should be grateful that I got them out of that forest, so they could see something actually worthwhile.. and with ducks."

You giggled softly at his words, have you ever met someone that seemed to love ducks as much as him?

As Lucifer continued to explore the room, you couldn’t help but notice the way he lingered on certain paintings, his fingers tracing the delicate lines with reverence. It was as if he saw something in your art that no one else did, something profound and personal.

Perhaps your choice of baby-faced angels, and ethereal landscapes brought back memories of his time in Heaven. Hopefully, that wasn't a bad thing.

When Lucifer finally turned to you, his gaze softened, a hint of something unreadable lurking beneath the surface. "You have a rare gift," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "To create beauty in a place like this... it's truly remarkable."

He looked at you for a moment, before a smile crept onto his lips. He was Lucifer, he knew exactly what you meant. It's what drove him to manipulate Eve to eat from the Tree of Life in the first place.

Was he finally getting a glimpse of the good free will brought to humanity? Was there actually meaning in his past actions that sent him to the depths of Hell?

His gaze narrowed in on the canvas behind you, and he slipped past you. "What is this?" He asked with intrigue, pointing towards your unfinished painting.

“My final piece. I've been working on it for days, but I just can't get the wings right.. believe it or not, i've never actually seen angel wings in person." You said that last bit as a joke.

His smile sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. For the King of Hell, it was surprisingly warm, and kind.

Then an idea struck you, but you tried to desperately to push it down. Except it seemed like the only time you could ask someone with angel wings to let you use them as a reference. How many fallen angels were in Hell, anyway?

"I'm so sorry if this is out of line, but. could I, um, borrow you for a little bit? I've just been having trouble drawing the wings correctly and you, well, have them?”

His eyes widened, and his chest puffed slightly at your question. He shot you a toothy grin, “Paint me? Why didn't you mention that earlier?! I have the perfect figure for such a thing.”

Behind him, Charlie rolled her eyes, a hint of a smile on her lips. You smiled too, you should've known he'd have no problem with it, he was the embodiment of pride after all.

He plopped down on a stool before you, and removed his overcoat. Beneath what seemed to be a red and white gatsby vest that hugged his frame perfectly. Jeez, he was almost too good looking.

He stretched out his large wings, folding the otherfour behind him, only revealing the two much largerones. They were breathtaking, truly. They looked so fluffy too!

You guided him on the exact position you needed them to be in, before making your way to the canvas and getting to work.

Assuring the group you only needed to get a visual on the canvas, the actual work you would do on your own. Slowly, you traced the frame of his wings, etching out the soft lines of his feathers and the curvatures of its form.

You could only imagine how soft those feathers were and what it would be like to curl around them like a pillo-

You shook your head to rid those thoughts. Why were you thinking such things about Lucifer like that? It's not like he would even want to let you go anywhere near him or his wings.

Would he?

You continued your painting, trying not to meet his gaze as you would occasionally peak your head from behind the large canvas to get another good look at his wings.

There was a moment when you two did lock eyes, and he sent a half-lidded smirk in your direction. Thankfully the large object between you two helped hide your growing blush. He was obviously just trying to get you worked up, you assured yourself. Just like he did with Alastor. In a different way, of course.

"This reminds me of when Charlie was younger" Lucifer began, filling the silence, "We sat for a good few hours trying to get a family portrait painted and she would just not sit still!”

“Dad.. please, not right now." Charlie growled out in embarrassment, her cheeks flushed. Vaggie only smiled beside her, listening intently as Lucifer filled everyone in on her younger years.

“lt got to the point where I had to summon her favorite toy to get her to stop squirming, everything was smooth sailing after that.

"And what was her favorite toy?" You inquired softly behind the canvas

“A rubber duck! Like the ones you play with in the bath? She could not get enough of it whenever it squeaked. One time the squeaker broke, and I went to my workshop and crafted her a magical one that meowed instead! Haha!"

Okay, this family really has a thing for ducks!

“She hated it, but that only inspired me to keep making more. Sometimes, we'd sit together on the work bench, and I would just come up with ideas like confetti-spitting, or color changing ducks. She wasn't too good at speaking at that time, so every time she'd laugh that was my clue that she liked it!"

It was sweet, the way he rambled about his daughter. He never spoke of himself or his accomplishments, despite embodying the sin of pride. It was almost like his only pride was his best creation, Charlie.

He continued, the room full of jokes and laughter, even from Vaggie, regarding Charlie's life as a youngling. You listened intently to his stories, his voice dripping with amusement as he recounted story after story.

lt was so sappy and you loved it. Which made you grumble quietly to yourself, why did you have to have a thing for DILFS?! Concentrate on the painting!

After a moment, Lucifer's eyes turned back to the paintings around him, his gaze scanning each painting once more. "I've noticed that you seem to have a repetition in your work.. not that that's a bad thing!" He quickly corrected.

“But in all of your paintings featuring angels, there's always a swan swimming or resting nearby. Do they hold any significance, or are they just a passion for you?"

You looked up from the canvas, and also traced the angelic figures across the room. He was right, with the images of the divine beings also came the appearance of the large, white water fowl. Lying lazily beside the angels, or swimming across pools of water as the care-free beings danced and frolicked.

You contemplated for a moment, before speaking truthfully.

“I just think Swans are elegant and ethereal creatures. They embody the purest of souls, untouched by the taint of sin that consumes the world, just like how their feathers remain untouched from the waters they glide on"

Lucifer's eyes lit up slightly, drinking up your words.

“Plus," You continue, "they mate for life, and allow themselves to just.. decay once their significant other departs from the world. It's very romantic, and love is one of the purest emotions in the world."

Lucifer wasn't looking at you when your eyes met his again, his stare was far off. Past the room entirely, as your words echoed through him. There it was again, the glimpse of sadness that he tried to hide so painfully well.

“Does such love like that exist?," he murmured so softly you had to strain your ears.

There was a few moments of deathly silence before Charlie piped up, asking her father something about heaven. You tried to listen, but your mind was stuck on his words. Lucifer was in heaven once, and he still didn't fully believe in such things?

If there weren't others in the room, perhaps you would’ve asked him.

It took a few more minutes before you were able to wrap up fully, but you had no regrets of asking this man for help, the angel on the canvas actually looked like he had wings, not just stumps of white tuft.

You got up from your seat and walked towards him, noticing that Charlie and her girlfriend were not present anymore. It was just you and Lucifer in theroom now.

“Well, thank you, Your Majesty. You really helped me out here, and it'll go a long way to make the hotel look even better"

“Please, call me Lucifer. The formalities are only for subjects, not friends," he replied, "l did really enjoy getting to see your paintings, you are quite a phenomenal artist. I wasn't lying when I said your work was different from the rest. If only you were around for those family portraits."

You were so taken aback by his praise that you only shrugged it off, like it was no big deal. Even though, coming from the King of Hell, it was.

Glancing behind him, you saw Charlie and Vaggie whispering to each other in the hallway outside of the door. You assumed they probably wanted to finish up so they could get him to agree to the meeting with Heaven.

lgnoring his previous statement of formalities— he was the king, you thought, you weren't going to just pat him on the back and say 'see ya! —you lowered your head and bent down to curtsy, just like you were taught when you were younger, placing your hand slightly in front of you.

Usually, you'd use that hand to shake or grasp the other person's, but it felt wrong to treat this powerful angel like any other man.

Suddenly, you felt the soft touch of fingers gliding across your hand. In confusion, you looked up at those golden eyes and that charming smile. Trying to get a glimpse of what he was thinking.

His hand gripped yours gently, and with a bow of his own, lowered his lips, and pressed a soft kiss your knuckles.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you feared to blink, soaking in his beauty for as long as you could before he had the chance to pull away. You wanted to say something, but your tongue was refusing to work as your mouth opened and closed silently.

When he finally released your hand, he adjusted his hat and turned towards the door. Leaving you standing there, your face burning hot

He cleared his throat, and turned his head slightly, his eye catching yours. A playful smile dancing on his lips.

“l look forward to our next portrait together, hopefully where I am the motivation behind your strokes. Not just these dull wings."

And with his words hanging in the air, you were left alone, with the growing itch to press your face into a pillow and squeal.

——————

awww man, my first fic! I was trying to make this more dating-centric, but i couldn’t stop writing for their first meeting and it got too long haha! If y’all like this one enough, i’ll make a dating version!

let me know what you think 🙏 i reallyyyy appreciate all comments and criticisms!!

wonderful art i commissioned by DawnDrawnS on twitter! <3

#Hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hellverse #OOC Lucifer? #He just ain’t as goofy #But I HC he’s only like that around Charlie :) #fanfiction #writing

[sipsteainanxiety]

"fuck," came katsuki's voice from the confines of your little kitchen.

"something wrong?" you called as you looked up from your position seated at the kitchen island. an edition of pros+ was open on the marble countertop before you, its gleaming pages showing pictures of various heroes posing for various collabs. you'd been lingering on the sections about dynamight, teasing katsuki with certain lines that amused you.

katsuki grumbled under his breath, lifting one of his hands to ruffle at his spiky hair. from your seat, you could see the outlines of his back through his black tank top. grey sweats hung lowly on his hips. he made a tch sound, his head bent forwards as he looked down at the stovetop before him.

"yolk fuckin' broke," he muttered. there was a scraping sound as he moved the spatula in his hand around the pan.

you shrugged and looked back down at the picture of katsuki you were admiring. pinched brows were pulled down as he frowned at the camera. "scramble them or something."

"'m not gonna fuckin' scramble 'em," katsuki said, offended. "that's not how y'make proper scrambled eggs."

"it is if the yolk broke," you replied, shooting him a grin when he casted a glare at you over his shoulder. he grumbled something indecipherable under his breath and turned back to the stove.

"yer the one who wanted sunny-side up eggs." he switched the spatula to his other hand so he could reach out and grab a fresh egg from the carton next to him. in a single motion, he cracked it on the edge of the counter and dropped it neatly into the pan. it sizzled and popped upon contact. you flipped to another page in the magazine as katsuki tossed the shell into the trash.

the toaster let out a ding! that made you jump slightly and look up. you slid off of the stool you were perched on, rounded the island to grab the two pieces of finished toast, and placed them neatly on the plate you'd set out. there were already six pieces of buttered toast on it—most of them for katsuki. you buttered the two pieces of crunchy brown bread and moved to set the plate in the middle of the island. you then walked over to grab two small bowls from the cupboard so you could spoon out some jasmine rice from the rice cooker.

the smell of eggs, rice, and bread mixed pleasantly together in the air, making your stomach rumble quietly. lazy morning light spilled gently through the open windows of the living room. you set the two filled bowls on the island just as katsuki turned off the stove with a click. you then grabbed two plates and pairs of chopsticks and positioned them across from each other. katsuki approached the island with the pan and spatula in his hands just as you sat back down.

"still readin' that shit?" katsuki frowned as his eyes flicked over at the pros+ edition on the island. you grabbed it so you could set it off to the side, a small grin on your face.

"what?" you asked amusedly. "i can't admire pictures of my boyfriend? you look so good in them."

his ears tinged a red that matched his eyes. he looked down at the pan so he could scoop out the eggs on it and set them neatly on the plates you'd set out. "'m right here," he mumbled—quietly. your gaze softened at his words.

"mmhm," you hummed, "i know." his lips twisted into a pout that disappeared as he turned to head back to the stove. you watched him for a moment, then looked down at your plate so you could grab a piece of toast.

"oh!" you blinked down at the full yolk that sat on your plate—lightly seasoned and round like the sun. a quick glance at his plate showed you the sunny-side up egg that'd broke, the yolk a sad mix that intertwined with its white companion. "you didn't have to give me the unbroken one—i don't mind."

katsuki gave you a look as he walked back to the island with a plate of filleted fish he'd cooked before the eggs. he placed it between the two of you and sat down heavily across from you. "ya wanted sunny-side up. why would i give you the broken one?" he said it like it was obvious.

you blinked at him, lost for words, and shrugged. "i dunno. why would you take the broken one?"

he frowned at your words and looked down so he could grab his chopsticks. "quit askin' questions 'nd eat your food."

you took a moment to quietly watch him—the flush that crawled up the bare skin of his neck, the adamance with which he refused to look at you. then you picked up your own chopsticks, a faint smile on your face.

"well," you said gently as he glanced quickly up at you then away so he could place a piece of fish on your plate, "thank you for the food."

#something abt giving someone u love the better portion of food>>> the unpopped yolk... the perfectly grilled fish #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou drabble #this was just me self projecting LOL i do this all the time w my friends uwu #i didnt know how to end it pfft

[thebestofoneshots]

A LITTLE BIT OF PAINT | TEASER

Piring: R.L. x S.B. x reader Prompt: Sirius and you are art students and you’ve gotten an assignment, a nude painting, but you can’t paint each other. Trying to convict Remus to model for you was hard enough, but painting him, while he looks so damn stunning, might prove a harder endeavour to accomplish. Warnings: the complete story will contain smut (this has some mild teasing and a few nudе scenes)

“So?” Sirius asked as he leaned onto Remus, “would you do it?” 

“Pretty please?” you asked with a small pout and a few blinks. 

Remus sighed, “Why don’t you just paint each other?” 

Both you and Sirius had been trying to convince Remus to be your nude model for an assignment for the last 20 minutes. He was your best friend, and both you and Sirius had always wanted to use him as a model, but had never been too keen to do it, not even clothed. But you needed him now. 

“We can’t do someone we’ve fucked,” Sirius said with a sigh, “We’d already done it otherwise.” 

“Just use each other and draw a face from a magazine,” Remus offered. 

“It won’t work either,” you responded now, “We’ve both been models for the class, they know our bodies. We wouldn’t be asking you if we didn’t need you, please Moony!” Remus looked to the side, licking his lips before biting on the bottom one and sighing, however could he say no to the two of you.

“Okay,” he whispered.

(...)

You took your hoodie off and then, but it wasn’t until you took a hold of your shirt and flipped it over your head that Remus realised what was going on. Your hands were behind your bra when he averted his gaze to the side completely blushed. “Sirius, If you’re painting her, can I leave?” 

“Of course not,” Sirius said simply, “I’m painting the both of you.” 

“You what?” 

“Eros and Psyche, remember?” 

“But you said you couldn’t paint people you’ve fucked,” he retorted in a rather accusing manner. 

“Yeah, that’s why I’ll switch her hair colour and you’ll cover her face.” 

“You never said I’d have to pose with your naked girlfriend!” 

“It’s okay Rem, I don’t mind, I’ve been a nude model for the class a couple of times.” 

Remus, as he would naturally turn to look at you when you spoke, but quickly turned his head to the side when he realised you were now completely naked. 

But I do! He thought as he tried to think of anything other than the curve of your breasts. Naked grandma, naked grandma.

You eyed Sirius, “Maybe we can–“ you started, biting your lip. 

“Nonsense. We’re all adults, go on.” 

You gave Sirius a stern look and he gave you back an equally determined one, nodding towards Remus, a clear indication for you to walk his way. 

You took a deep breath but did what he wanted anyway. Walking towards Remus and gently placing a hand on his shoulder, “Hey, If you really don’t want to do this-“

Remus’ head snapped your way, he focused his eyes on yours as best as he could, “No, I– I just– I wasn’t mentally prepared.” 

You smiled and tilted your head. You could see the self-restraint he was using not to look at your chest, Sirius was really trying not to cackle behind you as he sharpened his pencils, “You can look,” you said, “you’re gonna see them anyway Rem.” He gave you a frustrated frown. You smiled teasingly in return. 

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and looked. He was about ready to just stare for half a second and then move on with his life but he couldn’t quite look away. Not when he saw them perk up for him, his warm breath so close to you causing such a reaction. 

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Sirius said with a smile from behind the easel. The kind of confident smile of one who knew he could touch them whenever he wanted. 

Remus cleared his throat and looked at Sirius. “Go on with your painting, yeah?” 

“You haven’t even posed,” he retorted with a smile. You turned your head over your shoulder to look at your boyfriend, “where do you want me?”

Remus tried not to think of those words, and not to memorise them either. He didn’t want to have dreams about it.

(...)

“Not really,” you said honestly, leaning your head on his shoulder a little more, that was something you had done often, with clothes, though. “I’ve never modelled with anyone other than Sirius. I only said I would because it would be you.” 

“You what?” Remus asked, you accommodated and your lips accidentally brushed against his neck, he felt the blush spreading, he was losing control. He couldn’t keep thinking of a naked grandma when he had you pressed against him, whispering on his neck, your warm breath against his skin igniting him like a match against dry leaves. 

A LITTLE BIT OF PAINT IS OUT NOW!!

Click on the link to read the full version

#wip #teaser #the marauders era #the marauders x you #the marauders x y/n #the marauders fandom #marauders x reader #the marauders x reader #the marauders smut #marauders smut #marauders x you #marauders x y/n #sirius black #moony #remus lupin smut #sirius black smut #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #sirius x reader #sirius black x reader #moony x reader #poly!marauders x reader #poly marauders x reader #poly!marauders smut #wolfstar x you #wolfstar x reader #wolfstar x y/n #wolfstar

[kjdkive]

accidentally revealing you're engaged — CL16

top actress! yn and f1 pilot! charles leclerc 

“you know, chloe, i am very scared of red carpets because it means interviews and questions and i hate them, why can’t we all just watch the premier in peace and in comfy clothes?” you ask your manager. 

“you talk a lot when you’re nervous.” she says. 

“i know and i am sorry.” you tell her. “i get anxious because you never know if they can twist your words. but whatever, i’ll be fine, right? like it’s nothing serious, right, chloe?” 

“we’re here.” chloe replies and waits for one of the bodyguards to open your door and let you walk out. “you’ll be fine.” she says before you get off the car. 

as soon as you get off you hear the screaming from the fans and you run to them so you’re able to take as many pics and sign as many autographs as you can before security tells you to stop. 

but the part that you loved the most is over, now is posing and then interviews. 

“yn! let us see the back of the dress!” you listen to the paparazzis and you turn around. you keep posing the way you’re being asked to, expecting for the pictures to maybe not look perfect but just fine. 

and the posing is over! now it’s the interviews. 

you’re 3 interviews down of 5 to go and your manager and your bodyguard are behind you supporting you, mouthing “you got this!” which makes you laugh. 

“hi, y/n, it’s so nice to meet you. i am kate and i am from know-it-all magazine.” 

you have to be honest, you had never heard from them. 

“hi, kate, nice to meet you too.” you smile at her. 

“i’m loving your dress, it fits perfectly! can you tell us who you’re wearing?” 

“of course, i am wearing a custom-made oscar de la renta which is a huge honour.” 

“are you excited to be here? i mean, you’re probably going to get asked out a lot because you’re a single woman now.” 

“uh, yeah…” what did she just say? this is what you didn’t want to happen, questions that are not normal and that you do not want to answer. 

“can you give a few tips to women who now are after charles?” 

okay. now you didn’t understand what was going on. what the hell is happening? 

“did you just ask me to give tips to women who like charles? as in what he likes and stuff?” 

“yeah, i mean, you broke up.” 

“we broke up?” you ask her, shocked. 

“yeah, that’s what everyone is saying.” she never stops smiling which is creepy and annoying you. 

“can you hold on a second?” you ask and she nods. 

you grab your phone from your pocket because yes, your dress had pockets. right now, a blessing and a curse. your manager was about to stop you but what you were about to do was going to be funny. you scroll a little bit through your phone, dial some number and put it on speaker.

“hey, charles! i’m on an interview and you’re on speaker, okay?” 

“hey, baby, yes, what’s up?” he giggles. “why are you calling me charles, though? did i do something?” 

“i think you did.” you laugh. “did we break up?” 

“what?” he asks, almost yelling. “did we?” he asks now more calmly but confused. 

“i mean, i don’t think so.” 

“as far as i know, babe, we’re engaged so you’re kind of stuck with me.” 

you roll your eyes laughing. 

“i know, right? thanks for letting me know though, i’ll call you later after i’m done, babe.” 

“m’kay, i love you!” 

“love you too, baby, bye!” 

you hang up and you look at the interviewer. 

“does that answer your question?” 

“it totally does. thank you so much, hope you have lots of engaged fun tonight.” 

“i will, thank you.” 

you start walking away from the camera but you hear chloe whisper to the interviewer: “she’s kind and naive but next time, ask better questions. just be thankful for now.” chloe could be a very scary person. 

“i think you’re going to go trending and you’ll also make a lot of money to that magazine.” chloe laughs. “good job.” 

“thanks? i guess.” you look at her. “charles fucked up, though, we were supposed to keep our engagement a secret.”

“you know how he is, he could never keep a secret.”  

#charles leclerc #cl16 x reader #cl16 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 smau #f1 scenario

[idiopath-fic-smile]

i make no promises, like i genuinely don't have any real ideas for scenes after this one, but uh here is more Singin' in the Rain ot3, continuing from here. they're not even on the honeymoon boat yet! but for whatever it's worth, there are shenanigans.

Here was another thing Cosmo had failed to predict: Don was a nervous flier. 

Cosmo had been up in the air a handful of times; Archibald owned a small personal craft that he flew sometimes on the weekends. And sure, it was cold and noisy and there was no denying that watching the ground disappear below you could give a guy a bad case of the stomach lurches, but it was a thrill all the same. An adventure, he thought, burrowing deeper into the very warm wool coat he’d had the presence of mind to bring. Don was generally up for an adventure; he’d once ridden a motorcycle full speed off a high canyon and fallen ten stories into the water below, for nothing but a day’s wages and an approving nod from the director.

The airplane offered comfortable seats and tables and fashionable cold salads served by very calm stewardesses, but from the moment of liftoff, Don sat there like a man waiting for the electric chair. Now he was clutching the armrests so tightly, the knuckles stood out sharp and white against his normally very appealing hands. 

“We should have taken the train,” said Kathy.

“Nonsense,” Don gritted out. “I’m fine. This is all perfectly fine.”

Belted in on either side of him, Kathy and Cosmo exchanged a look. One of the benefits, thought Cosmo, to being the funny little friend and not the leading man was that you were allowed to admit when you were terrified, at least a little, at least if you could make it a joke.

“I’m so sorry, Don,” Kathy said. “I should have asked if you’ve been in one of these before. Even knowing we’re perfectly safe, a train would’ve been so much more comfortable.”

Don closed his eyes. “Really, Kathy,” he said, a little more sharply. “You don’t need to—” The plane dropped several feet, and he swallowed hard.

Cosmo considered the situation. The facts were these: Don Lockwood was too proud, and too enamored with his wife, to be willing to discuss such a weakness in front of her, and now if somebody didn’t act fast, the three of them were in for an awkward, unpleasant flight. Or rather, series of flights, since the plane was going to need to refuel a couple of times along the way.

There was nothing else for it; Cosmo would have to save the day.

He took in Don’s ashen complexion and Kathy’s guilty face, and then he said cheerfully,

“Y’know, Kathy, for what it’s worth, Don actually has been in one of these before.” When this failed to earn any real response from the man, Cosmo poked him in the cheek. “Haven’t you, Don?”

“What?” said Don distractedly, swatting the finger away. “No, I haven’t.”

“Yes, you have.”

Don’s tense brow creased for a moment in irritation. “I think I’d remember—” he started.

“It was for one of those early stunting gigs,” said Cosmo. “A little biplane. They gave you goggles and an aviator hat and a brown leather jacket—” The incident stuck in Cosmo’s mind mostly because Don had looked very good in that jacket, but there were half a dozen reasons nobody needed to know that, “—and then they had you crash the plane through a barn.”

“Through a barn?” Kathy repeated, disbelieving, because apparently the fan magazines didn’t tell you everything after all.

“Into, not through,” said Don. “I didn’t come out the other side.” His fingers had relaxed ever so slightly on the poor armrests. “And that doesn’t count, that contraption never got off the ground, I only had to—”

“Into a barn?” Kathy interjected. “Why?”

Cosmo stuck a mock-pensive pose. “The things we do for art. And five dollars. And I think the producers let him keep the jacket.”

They had; Cosmo had suffered that autumn.

“Well, what about common sense,” said Kathy, “and human rights, and basic safety?”

“I said he had goggles on, didn’t I?” 

The truth was, back in those days, no matter how dangerous the feat, how seemingly impossible the stunt, Cosmo had never truly worried. It was Don, and Don could do anything. Except admit to his wife that he needed help, apparently.

“What about—about dignity,” she went on, and Cosmo snorted.

“I regret to inform you that Lady Dignity will not be making an appearance tonight.”

“Cosmo,” said Kathy, slowly, “Why in the world did you let Don do a thing like that?”

“Let?” Don and Cosmo said in unison, Don a little weakly but it was something.

“Don’t pin this on me, madam,” Cosmo added, “I am not my brother’s keeper.”

“Not my brother at all,” Don muttered, which stung a little, but Cosmo decided to let it slide in the face of how his plan was working.

“That’s hardly the worst thing we did for money,” Cosmo said instead. “Has Don told you much about our ignoble days on the road?”

Kathy shook her head, delighted. Don very discreetly kicked Cosmo in the shin. Things were looking up.

.

“So there we are,” said Cosmo, “performing in this tiny hamlet in Nebraska called, I kid you not, Oatmeal—”

“Oatmeal?” Kathy laughed.

Don had freed his fingers from the armrests entirely; he was now resting his entire face in his hands. He was no longer pallid as Nosferatu; in fact, he might have been blushing.

“It was Coyoteville,” Don volunteered without looking up.

“Pal, if you think I’d forget a place with a name like Oatmeal, Nebraska—”

“If you think I’d forget a place with a name like Coyoteville—”

“Coyoteville was in New Mexico!” said Cosmo. “Coyoteville was where we had to bunk with that ventriloquist, remember?” He watched as Don sat up and snuck a look at Kathy, who was clearly having a ball.

“The one who insisted his dummy got its own bed?” Don said with a slight smile.

“Don and me had to sleep on a twin mattress on the floor,” said Cosmo, “Curled up like a pair of puppies, if you can picture that—”

“I think so,” said Kathy, leaning forward, eyes bright, “only what happened in Oatmeal?”

“Wait, was Oatmeal where—” Don started.

“Yes! We’re about halfway through our routine, singing and hoofing our hearts out—fit as a fiddle and ready for love—when we look off to the side, at the next act waiting in the wings and we see—”

Don laughed. “You’re right, we were onstage when we realized it!”

“—at more or less the same time, I think—”

“Yes?” said Kathy.

“—the Amazing Dancing Daisy, the headliner following us—”

“Nobody had bothered to explain to us that she was a trained donkey,” Cosmo explained. “We were literally opening for an ass.”

“How was she?” Kathy managed, once she had more or less gotten her wild laughter under control. “The dancing, I mean?”

“Her footwork was a little sloppy,” said Don.

“Don’s just cross,” said Cosmo confidingly, “because she got much more applause than us.”

“They kept throwing her flowers!” said Don. “What was she meant to do with them? She didn’t even have hands!”

“So listen, Kathy.” Cosmo leaned way over Don to make eye contact with her. “The next time you two are having some sort of petty domestic squabble, if Don tries to act all high and mighty, just remember: I’m pretty sure your lawfully wedded husband is still, deep down, jealous of a donkey.”

Don grabbed Cosmo’s shoulder and flashed him a mock-scowl. “Why, when we get back on solid land…”

“I’m not afraid of you, villain,” said Cosmo, “not with your lady love here.” He stretched out an arm to Kathy. “You’ll protect me, won’t you?”

“Of course, good sir,” said Kathy, genteelly taking his hand and it was a joke, it was ridiculous, it was all completely harmless because Cosmo was hardly a threat to their marriage, and so Cosmo ducked his head and fluttered his lashes at her, and cooed,

“How shall I ever repay you?”

And then, without breaking eye contact, Kathy brought his hand to her mouth and kissed it, just a quick, warm, press of lips, entirely chaste but somehow something different, and Cosmo darted a nervous glance at up Don—he was practically in Don’s lap at this point, to better reach out to Don’s wife—because threat or not, there had to be some kind of line Cosmo was crossing. But Don was just watching them, with parted lips and slightly glazed eyes, as if it was not at all upsetting to see his girl and his best friend doing…whatever it was they were doing, and this moment was rapidly sliding away from any point of reference Cosmo might’ve had. 

Normally, Cosmo liked other people’s eyes on him. That was half the reason anyone was in showbiz, wasn’t it? Nobody might’ve looked at him twice in the street but with the right props and a couple of dance moves, he could be somebody for the length of a number or two, spread a little joy and get a lot of it back. So it wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy Don looking at him and Kathy like that. It was just—it was too much, too close to something he might’ve dreamed up alone in his bed at night. He hadn’t, but that was mostly because he’d lacked the imagination.

Cosmo freed himself, twisted back upright, and coughed. “On second thought,” he said. “I think the ventriloquist was in Dead Man’s Fang, in Arizona? Coyoteville was where that strongman threw up inside Don’s fiddle.”

“How did he manage to—” Kathy sounded sincerely perplexed. She’d left a coral pink lip print on the back of Cosmo’s hand. He tugged his coat sleeves down to his fingertips.

“Sheer determination,” said Cosmo.

#to be clear all of the tiny town names they reference i got from pausing on the signs that flash up briefly in the movie #i WISH i was enough of an artist to invent the town of Oatmeal Nebraska #singin in the rain ot3

[joonipertree]

Pro-racer Mikey that needs to do photoshoots and commercials every once in a while because he's famous and has a pretty face

He's put into his tracksuit or into lavish clothes to pose for the masses and a lot of people realise that Mikey has a presence on the camera that's unshakeable

And so....they decide to have him model for a photoshoot with one of the biggest models of the industry. Which works!! It's fine

They're just pictures.

But then the model posts a selfie of Mikey and her. and she says nothing but puts a heart in the caption.

And the speculations run WILD

Comments upon comments of shipping them together, calling them a power couple.

And you sit there, stuck in a doom scroll as you see one tweet after the other. You stare at your boyfriend, black hair neatly kept and smile wide like it always was, and you see the pretty girl.

And within seconds, you feel stupid for feeling insecure because Mikey had literally spent all morning peppering you in kisses, it was IMPOSSIBLE to pry him off even though he had a shoot and Draken had to come haul his ass up and out the door.

The man had texted you complaining how the food was blegh and how he missed your face.

There's no reason to be jealous.

So you turned off your phone and when Mikey came home, exhausted but very happy to see you....you let him smother you in kisses.

And it's forgotten

Until an unofficial bonus picture was released, on the magazine's Instagram page.

Him and the model, her leaning down as he sits on a chair...his hand wrapped around her wrist while their faces are inches close to each other.

It took three seconds to switch your phone off, throw it away and break down sobbing with whatever rational thought you had leaving your head.

You didn't need to read the comments to know what they were saying. You didn't need to wait until your friend's message you to ask if you're okay, out of pity. You didn't need his friends to call you in defense of him. You didn't need him to realise what had happened.

It was all a PR stunt so why would he even need to apologize. It was just a picture. Two people who were attractive being in close proximity to each other, being ogled by millions...being perceived as perfect for each other. As 'pleasing to the eye'

Now, Mikey was filming a commercial when this happened. He'd been chatting with the co-star while the cameras rolled when he noticed Ken-chin whisper into his phone.

The man looked annoyed, ready to argue but going rigid before sighing.

With a whisper to the director, everything paused as Ken waved his phone and said it was for Mikey. That it was Emma.

There was immediate panic because there's no way it wouldn't be an emergency. And he was right, his eyes widened and body grew stiff in seconds hearing his sister berate him.

For being a bastard, for breaking your heart like that.

She demanded he fixed it and when he was about to ask what was going on.....Draken shoved another phone into Mikeys hand...the instagram page of the magazine opened.

Oh. Fuck no

"I'm leaving." Mikey yelled out, startling everyone in the room, his years of being a gang leader coming out.

"What do you mean---"

Draken blocked the director's view, hands behind his back as he went back into the position of the second in command.

"You heard him."

"He has a contract--"

"He doesn't give a fuck."

#a lil drabble cuz im stressed and #this fic has been brewing #ill write it out properly soon tho!!!! #mikey x reader #tokyorev headcanons #tokyo rev fluff #mikey headcanon #mikey imagines #mikey x you #tokyo rev x you #mikey fluff #mikey sano headcanons #mikey sano x reader #manjiro sano x reader #sano manjiro x reader #manjirou x reader

[steddielations]

Flight of Icarus lore dump part 2:

Part 1 | Character List

- Wayne has a green thumb. He reads Gardener’s Weekly magazine. It doesn’t say what he grows, but it says he buys vegetables from the store so I’m going to say that gruff old man Wayne has the prettiest petunias in the whole trailer park.

- Eddie sneaks into the Hawk with his best friend Ronnie to watch action movies and thinks Snake Plissken, Han Solo and Conan the Barbarian are cool.

- Eddie talks for hours about the intricacies of Elven politics in Tolkien.

- Eddie read comics as a kid and hid them all over the house "like a little squirrel" under the bed, behind the nightstand, under the rug. Wayne found his Uncanny X-Men in the freezer between stacks of tv dinners. Also, "Hellfire Club" comes from these X-Men comics.

- Floor time! There's a part where Eddie is literally just lying on his back on his bedroom floor counting down from a million. When Wayne comes home, Eddie army crawls on his belly to the doorway to see him.

- Eddie reads Gormenghast paperbacks, gothic fantasy novels. It mentions that Wayne saved them from the house fire along with Eddie’s guitar. It never says how/when Eddie originally got his guitar.

- Eddie says lots of cc’s original songs have D&D references. It's implied that he writes them. One is called “Fire Shroud” after a spell

- Eddie is called Freak King at school and Munson Junior or just Junior around town and he hates all of it

- Eddie talks about having anxiety a lot and it's implied he has had panic attacks in the past

- Eddie is the lead singer and guitarist of cc. He started the band with Ronnie specifically because it was required to participate in the school talent show.

- Neither Wayne or Al graduated high school. When Eddie (temporarily) drops out, Al celebrates.

- Eddie doesn't cook. He doesn't even own a spatula. The smell of cooking in their house actually shocks him and gives him a deep longing for family meals, which Al uses to manipulate him

- Eddie jokes about being into Saturday Night Fever and strikes the pose a couple times.

- Eddie knows how to hotwire and how to pick locks. Al taught him this at the age of ten. Eddie is "disgusted" with himself any time he does either of those things.

- Eddie "drives like a monster" when he's upset about something.

- Eddie smokes cigarettes occasionally. Weed is mentioned a lot in the book but it never says anything about Eddie smoking it or doing any drugs. He either doesn't smoke much or he hasn't tried anything yet in the book. Also, he’s just now meeting Rick. But It’s pretty clear after everything he went through why he would start

- There's lots of mentions of PBR and Bud Light. Though Eddie says he doesn't like to drink after his shifts at the Hideout (where he's a barback). He mostly drinks off-brand Big Buy soda in the book (he calls it "pop")

- Eddie's parents were married on March 12th, 1966. The date is inscribed on the bottle of their wedding wine. Eddie asks what kind it is and Al says they only had 'red or white' kind of money

- Al breaks out the wedding wine (to manipulate Eddie, you guessed it) it's red wine and Eddie really, really likes it

- Eddie went to War Zone with his dad for supplies for the truck heist (spike strips, coveralls, etc)

- Eddie's band played Exciter by Judas Priest at the talent show. The song was only approved because they emphasized the "priest"

- There was another (?) talent show in Winter of 1981 where Eddie's band played "Prowler" and they were kicked off stage halfway through because the song was considered Satanic, and the PTA visited all their parents for trying to convert everyone to Satanism.

- Eddie imagines hitting his dad twice. Once with a glass bottle and once with a metal wrench. (He should've- oops who said that)

- The only hug Eddie gets in the book is when his dad first comes back, Eddie knows it's the first step in his cycle of showing up, using Eddie and leaving, but Eddie still accepts the hug and feels guilty for enjoying it.

- It's implied Eddie gets close to tears a couple times in the book, but the only time they actually spring up is when his mom's favorite song (from Muddy Waters) comes on in the truck radio while Eddie is doing the heist with his dad and feeling awful about it. Eddie has several flashbacks of dancing with her to this song, it seems like his happiest memory that he always returns to.

- Whenever Eddie is doing what his dad wants (hotwiring, charming a person into their plans) he puts on what he calls his "best Al Munson smile" and he's terrified that it will eventually take over his whole face. There's a part at the end where Eddie is sitting in a jail cell and says "All I want to do is tear my face off. If a new one grows in it's place, maybe it'll make me a different person. Someone who isn't such a complete fuckup."

#eddie munson the nerd that you are #steddie writers eddie recites tolkien purposely to be annoying so write that down #these always get progressively sadder oh boy #eddie munson #flight of icarus #wayne munson #al munson #ronnie ecker #stranger things #i'm gonna do one more of all the places name dropped and then a deep dive into eddie's d word issues #mp

[katstarry]

city of stars

rockstar!eddie munson x actress!reader

masterlist ☆

summary: eddie and you see each other at an awards ceremony, years after your break up.

warnings: angst? bittersweet? fluff? how the breakup happened can be up to you!

inspired by the movie la la land :) the upside down does not exist here! i also have no clue how this industry works, so sorry if something isn’t right or doesn’t make sense lol and i wrote this at 3am! sorry for any mistakes.

the lights were blinding as he steps out of the expensive car. it’s surreal, the cameras begin to flash as he walks to the crimson carpet, his date by his side.

his partner was nominated for an awards that night, hence why he’s attending the ceremony. they’re both ushered to walk to the center of the carpet for photos. he positions his hand onto his dates waist and smirks to the cameras, instinctively posing.

the cameramen shout their names for their attention, choruses of “eddie! eddie! over here!” and “beautiful couple! amazing!” as they walk off the carpet, onto the interviews. they ask his date the standard questions, “what’re you wearing tonight?”, “i see you’ve brought yourself a date!”, “see you’ve both been going strong!”

he smiles as he lingers behind, answering when he needed to. having previously too busy with tours and recordings, he didn’t have a proper chance to attend a ceremony like this with his current girlfriend. it’s been nearly a year since they’ve both been official, and he thinks that she might be the one.

as they both take their seats where the event will take place, he takes everything in.

looking around himself, he takes a deep breath, allowing his mind to wander.

he really made it.

thinking back, it’s been nearly 6 years since he left his hometown of hawkins, indiana to move to the chaos of california.

he wonders how everyone is, his old friends, what the small town is like now. what do they think of him now?

he wonders how you are. he’s heard your name before, in newspapers, in magazines. so he has an inkling that you’re doing amazing, doing everything you’ve ever dreamed of. could you even be here, tonight? he didn’t even know who else was nominated besides his girlfriend.

he looks around the dimly lit room, for a sign, a possibility, just out of curiosity. but he sees no familiar faces of his past.

you’re running late, which has rarely ever happened. you just so happened to have a wardrobe malfunction, a strap of your dress having snapped. luckily, your team fixed it right up, but it pushed the schedule behind.

which brought you to your current dilemma, being stuck in traffic.

robin, who you’ve brought as your plus one, sits by your side.

“oh god, we’re gonna be so late! we’re gonna walk in there while the ceremony has already begun and everyone’s going to know that we’re late! hopefully we don’t walk in when someone’s giving their speech-“

“robin!” you interject her rambling, smiling in amusement, “it’s going to be okay! i’m nervous too, i absolutely hate being late. but we won’t be that late! we’ll most likely get there just as it’s starting.”

she lets out a dramatic sigh as she leans her head back onto the headrest, before sitting up straight, not wanting to mess up her appearance.

“okay, okay. you’re right. it’s gonna be okay.”

you both enjoy the ride as music plays and waste the time talking, then before you know it, you arrive.

getting out the car with robin right behind you, camera’s flash. a sign that you’re in fact, not that late. you smile and walk to the carpet, a routine you’re now used to, but never get tired of. it’s a reminder, that this is what you’ve worked so hard for.

pictures are taken, you pull robin with you for them, she was standing by wanting for you to have your ‘moment’.

both walking off the carpet and semi-speed walking to your seats, you both have big smiles on your faces. the room is dimly lit as you’re both led to your assigned seats for the night, usually you say hello to the other guests, but the night took a turn of events, and you had no time.

it was a big night, the biggest so far for your career as an actress. you were nominated, for one of the biggest awards that night, best leading actress. you were beyond ecstatic from the moment you got the news.

it was a moment of realization, a moment of pure joy.

you met eddie in summer of 1985, after you graduated. you worked at star court mall in a small video store in order to save up money for college.

he had walked in, looking for a star wars movie. which led to a long conversation about star wars.

and the rest was history.

the friendship blossomed into shy glances and flirty comments until eventually, eddie had gotten the courage (after encouragement from his friend and uncle), to ask you out on a proper date. friends to now lovers, you were both inseparable. you helped him with graduating the following year, even attended his graduation. you were his biggest cheerleader.

he’d remember you as long as he lived. you, his first true love. his first example of an unconditional and healthy romantic love.

he’ll never forget your support, the way you encouraged him to keep going to his gigs at the hideout when he would feel like there would be no chance, you sitting at the bar, smiling up at him as he sang and played his guitar. it have him hope, he gained his confidence.

for you, the feeling was mutual. eddie, who would attend every one of your shows, no matter how big or small your role was.

the relationship had lasted four years, the year was now 1989.

1989, the year that eddie was offered his dream.

the hideout had began to gain more clients and corroded coffin began to gain more fans, steadily, they were making progress.

one night had changed everything. the band was approached by a man who claimed to be a part of a record label and had taken an interest in them and gave them his information for when they had made up that night, you were there right beside them.

as the man walked away and out the building, the band erupted into pure happiness, shouts of joy, hugs, faces of shock and in awe.

eddie turned to you, a big grin adorned his face as he embraced you and picked you up, wrapping your arms around his neck, he gave you both a twirl.

“oh my god! eddie! this is amazing!?” you smiled up at him as he placed you back on your feet, his arms still wrapped around your waist, yours now placed onto his shoudlers.

“i still can’t believe that was real, that was real right? that just happened?” he couldn’t contain his joy, “i mean i must be dreaming. there’s an angel looking at me right now.”

you blush, “oh shut up,” you lean up and give him a kiss, “you’re going to say yes, right?”

he looks at his friends over his shoulder, who heard you and look over in anticipation.

eddie looks back at you, “hell yeah we are!”

from the moment the band agreed upon the proposal made to them, the changes came quick.

the label wanted demos for songs that they’ve played at the hideout, which led to them having to travel.

“california?”

“yeah, it’s a long way from here.”

you sit with your legs crossed and pulled up onto the couch and look at eddie, who’s sitting beside you. you’re at his trailer that he shares with his uncle wayne.

he looks at you with anticipation and bites his lips, “do you think i should go?”

“me? eddie, this is entirely up to you. but if you want my opinion, i think that you should definitely go. this is an opportunity of a lifetime! it’s your dream.” you smile at him as you grab his hands, softly squeezing.

he smiles at you, “i jus’ don’t want to be so far from you. i’ve never even been far from home, really. it’s all too fast.”

tears well up in his eyes, causing your own to do the same.

“hey.. i’m always gonna be rooting for you, baby. who knows where this’ll take us? it’s a big change, sure. but we’ll be okay. don’t let me or anyone else stop you from doing this.”

you’re both crying now, it feels different.

“i wish you could come with me.”

you place yourself onto his lap, embracing him as he wraps his arms around your waist. resting your forehead onto his own, tears streaming down both your faces.

“i wish i could too, but i’ll be too busy with college.”

you’d decided to finally attend college, having saved up enough money to afford it. you wanted to continue studying acting, get better at it.

“and when i’m done with that, we can be the iconic couple.”

you both let out teary laughs, “we’ll be okay.”

the ceremony continued on, and finally, the moment comes.

the anticipation of waiting. the nominees for best leading actress being named and some jokes being made, it was exhilarating. beside you, robin takes a hold of your hand, both filled with nervousness.

the feeling was indescribable, the moment that your name was called.

it felt as if you were walking on air, the room was filled with applause, just as it had been throughout the night. but this time it was for you.

you won!

you stood and robin hugged you tightly, you didn’t know how to react as you hugged her back. walking to the stage was the craziest thing you’ve ever done, people shook your hand, congratulating you. some were people you looked up to, people you admired.

going up the steps, you greet the people on stage and accept your award. looking out into the crowd, you meet robin’s gaze, whose already smiling right back at you with tears in her eyes.

feeling your own fill with tears, you walk to the microphone to give your speech.

you open your mouth, and words momentarily fail you.

“wow.” you laugh, “this- this is something that i truly never would’ve thought i would receive. and to be here,” you look at the award in your hands and back up to the crowd, “with you all, is so crazy!”

“i want to thank everybody who has helped me make this dream come true.” you take a small moment to gain your composure, that moment, was when you saw him.

“wow.” you couldn’t believe he was there. the room laughs, thinking your reaction was from the award, not from seeing your past lover.

“i want to congratulate the other nominees, who i admire and am in awe of all that you do. and i want to thank my team, my friends, my family, my fans!”

you look over at eddie once again in the crowd, smiling with tears in both your eyes. it’s like deja vu.

“thank you, for everything.” the sincerity in your voice must be heard by everyone, since the room begins to applaud once again and you’re guided off the stage.

you meant the last part to be directed towards him.

and he knows, because he’ll always know you.

#fanfiction #katstarry #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #actress!reader #rockstar!eddie munson x actress!reader #la la land #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction

[togegiri]

✎ᝰ ❛ Y/N'S DRAGON BUTLER ! ❜ — malleus draconia.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ featuring. malleus draconia x gender neutral reader.

.ೃ࿐ WARNINGS ! gender neutral reader. you/your and they/them pronouns is used. master is used but still is gender neutral reader. — not proofread ( 1.3k words )

content. You never knew that your drunken state would hire a dragon butler accidentally.

As the sun began to show up, the shine shoned at the blinds of your window. The alarm made a sound making you furrow your brows. Opening your eyes you slowly groaned as you stopped the beeping of your alarm as you got out of your bed. 

“Ahh… my head hurts,” you complained, feeling your head hurt from having a migraine like autopilot mode. You did your usual routine, like changing to your usual working clothes, eating a simple breakfast, brushing your teeth. 

Meanwhile, there a tall male looked at himself in the mirror, putting on an all black and cool looking butler uniform. On the table on the side there placed a magazine and there a male posing as a butler is seen. Looking at any imperfection he looks at himself, “there, good,” he huffs with a smile. Pride on his face as he feels that his looks are good enough.

“Ooh~ little malmal is all grown up now huh?” a small male said putting his weight on the door looking at the taller draconic like male before him. “Yes, well then I'll be on my way now.. I don't want my master to wait for me,” with that he opens the big windows. Feeling the cold winds of the day. 

“Well then good luck to your job little malmal,” the vampiric like male said waving at him as the male jumped at the window. Turning into a black dragon as they flew away. The pink-black haired person chuckles, “must be nice being a youth in love~” 

Back to you, you looked at the mess of your apartment that was filled with cans of beer making you sigh. Putting on a coat you take your bag as your eyes widen at the time, “uwah, I'm gonna be late.” you say as you make your way to the door of your apartment. 

The dragon male placing himself infront of your apartment, as you open the door your eyes widen. A gust of wind came to your face as your eyes met with a deep shade of green ones. Breathing heavily as you blinked your eyes. 'eh?’ you thought as the dragon disappeared. Appearing as a tall, handsome male with a butler uniform, “ehh…?” you say aloud.

Malleus smiled at you, “hello, It's me, malleus draconia your dragon butler from today onwards,” he closed his eyes. Suddenly sparkles went behind him as your brain tried to compute what just happened. Thus a reason came to your head, 'ah… a dream?’ 

“Please do come in,” 

You open the door for him, letting him walk in (hospitality is always good to have.) 

“Thank you,” malleus walked in as you followed him closing the door, you sat down at the chair as he too sat down. You looked at him weirdly as you bit our lower lip feeling awkward,  “so uhmm who are you?” 

His eyes widen, chuckling as he tilts his head to the side, “oh? I'm pretty sure I have introduced myself already (name),” he spoke in a matter-of-fact tone.

“y- yeah you did… but I'm pretty sure I didnt hire a… butler you know,” 

“oh…” his tone was laced with disappointment. 

“I even don't remember how we met,” 

His brows furrow as his lips curl up in a small pout, “you don't remember? we met in the mountains,” you tilt your head cluelessly at this, “mountains, mountains… mountains?” you repeated the words until your eyes widen remembering the events happened last night. 

—

“hehe… hehe~” you laugh, your face feeling hot as you stumble upon the rocky road on the mountain. The place was scary if said by a bystander. You didn't know that, you're drunk right now. With the fog on the mountain, the trees seemingly do not have any leaves and have pointy branches. 

“Oho? a human, tell me why have you come here?” malleus eyes widen seeing a human casually comes in the mountain, nevertheless in his territory. Especially in a very drunk state, “hmm? oooh? ah! hello! hello! want a drink?” you smile stupidly waving at him with alcohol on the other side of your hand. 

He lets out a chuckle amuse at your actions, “I supposed why not,” you smile as you take a cup in your pocket(why did you even put that there?). Pouring him the alcohol, “Hehehe! drink up! drink up!” you encourage with a big smile on your face. 

“I am, I am,” he chuckles as he drank all the alcohol in the cup in one go, “oooh! you know how to drink huh? I love it!” you giggled drunkenly patting his shoulder making his eyes widen at the contact. His surprised face turned into one with adoration. 

“hahaha what an interesting human you are,” he laughs as you cocked your head to the side, “I am..? hehe thank youuu~ say you know about butlers?” 

“hm? a little bit,” malleus tilts his head at the sudden topic about butler, “you should know alot more about them they—” thus you began a long rant about how great butlers and the many more facts about them. Rambling like a passionate mad man about butlers. 

“Say.. Why do you live here alone?” your sudden question caught the draconic male off guard, “haha how do you know I live alone?” he asks cocking his hide to side as you smile at him, “its easy to tell you look lonely after all…” 

His eyes widened at this as he smiled back at you, “well I do have some servants here but… It does get lonely from time to time, humans are… well quite scared of such things as, I,” malleus grip the cup with a little more strength as he looked down sadly. “live with me."

His green eyes looked at you with suprise as you smiled at him, “pardon me?” in his eyes suddenly you were bright and sparkling, “live with me, I'll make you meet with many people, and I promise you… you won't be lonely with me by your side malleus,” a warmth spread on his heart as he felt his face hot, “oh…” 

The sake is certainly not the one for this flustered state of his. 

—

“sorry but… I- …I can't keep that promise, I didn't even say I want a butler,” you mutter the last part though malleus heard it quite well. “Oh the butler part was my idea, I wanted to surprise you but… I- I see.. no worries (name), it was my fault for barging in so suddenly,” he looked down as he smiled at you sadly apologizing as he got up the chair. 

Your eyes linger towards his retreating figure seeing a tear forming in the corner of his eyes feeling guilt in the pit of your stomach, ‘wait if this isn't a dream… that means!’ your eyes widen looking, remembering something as you look at the clock in your arm. 

Running towards Malleus who was near the door, you yelled his name, “Malleus!”  you took his wrist as he looked back at you in surprise. “Yes?” 

“Can you fly?” 

“y- yes?” 

—

“Uwaaaah! too fast!” you say that as you feel the wind hit your face too hard. Making you close your eyes, “apologies, I didn't hear what you just said.” malleus says in his dragon form. There you sat on the back of a black dragon. “I say too fast!” he slows down. 

“Right, I'll try to not be too fast,” feeling the wind slow down you open your eyes seeing the great view of the city up here, “hmm… guess I can hire him.” You say aloud making the dragon perk up, “really?”

You let out a low chuckle, “so you can hear me,” making the dragon sweatdrop. Though soon your eyes widen as you feel a bone crack in your lower back, ‘ah… this kind of transportation hurts my back.' 

“oh well… I guess I could use some dragon butler plus I promise you that you won't be lonely, so might as well keep that,” 

The dragon underneath you smiles feeling the same warm feeling blooming in his heart. He shouldn't have doubted you from backing away from your promise. 

“Sorry for cowering away at first but I swear I'll do my best malleus,” 

“Me too, I'll do my best, master,” 

You smile looking at the sky. Today is a great day.

#˃ᴗ˂ . . . signed by; ren #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleus x reader #twst fluff #twst imagines #twisted wonderland fluff #twisted wonderland imagines #malleus draconia x reader fluff #malleus draconia x gender neutral reader #malleus x y/n #malleus x you #malleus x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #malleus x reader fluff

[devildomditzy]

With an MC who thinks they’re not good enough for them

Made this as a personal vent/comfort piece for my self

If you start thinking bad thought about yourself, you just gotta think “the brothers would be so hurt if they caught me thinking this way”

Tags/Warnings: Self-Deprecating Thoughts

Lucifer

Takes it very personal

As pride incarnate, he values himself on making his guests feel comfortable

Even if it’s not him causing the thought, he’ll still see it upon himself to try and fix it

You don’t even have to say it, he just knows (okay, maybe you vented to Beel and Beel told Lucifer cause he was worried about you but that’s beside the point)

“MC, I was unaware I was doing you the disservice of not imploring your importance to us. Let me make that up to you.”

You don’t know how he knows, but you don’t question it.

He prepares tea for the both of you, ready to have a full conversation about self reflection.

Every negative comment you make about yourself he’s quick to counter

“You’ve truly become the gem of the Devildom, MC. I cannot be dissuaded from believing the same goes for the human realm. You’re very dear to me.”

Mammon

Oh hell no

He will not stand for it

He had asked you to attend one of his shoots earlier this week but you had never responded to his invitation, changing the subject every time he brought it up

At first he thinks you just don’t want to go, which hurts him. You catch onto this, and not wanting him to think that the real reason comes out

“It’s just… you’re a model. Not to mention you were a literal angel sculpted by the Gods, and you make an even hotter demon. You’re on the cover of every magazine in the Devildom. Wherever we go you get recognized and fawned over. Hell, you’ve even got a fan club here at school. You’re also one of the most powerful demons and leaders of this realm. Why the hell would you wanna be seen with some pathetic, average looking human like me.”

His heart breaks

He blames himself for not catching on quicker

“Oi! I’m not gonna let anyone talk about my human like that, even if you are that human!”

In the middle of his rant about how everything about you is perfect to him, from your gorgeous appearance to your terrible humor, to your radiant personality, he gets an idea.

Its like you can see a lightbulb flash over his head, he gets giddy like a child, taking out his phone and quickly dialing a number

As it rings it rings, he proudly says, “If ya got a problem with me bein’ a model, I guess we’ll have to make you one too!”

His agency is actually thrilled to have a chance to shoot Diavolo’s esteemed human exchange student. It’s like a once in a millennia chance.

And he’s holding your hand proudly through it. Now he can show you off to the whole Devildom.

You were nervous about it all week until you saw the photos printed on every magazine in town

You stood next to Mammon, both in your Rad uniforms posing in front of the school. You breath hitches in your throat when you see just how adoringly he is staring at you in each and every photo

He may be a professional, but no amount of training could have stopped his love for you from shining through his expressions

He rips these pictures out of his copy, hanging them both all over his and your rooms

“Now the whole Devildom knows we’re a match made in heaven! Well….shit…uh…ya know what I meant.”

Levi

All that stuff about you being a normie, you know he was just kidding right!?

You open up to him against your will, as you both engaged in another weird card game he bought off of Akuzon, and were bound by the rules to confess a burden or be stuck in the games limbo forever

How could anyone (let alone you) think that about his Henry? His player two?

“H-hey! You’re not giving yourself enough credit! You’re super cool, MC! Like, boss level status!!!”

By the shine and sincerity in his eyes, you know this boy is telling the truth

When you flash him a smile and let out a gorgeous laugh, let’s just say the boy melts

Scoop him off the floor and into your arms, he’ll appreciate it.

Asmo

You have to realize there is only one thing in this world that Asmo thinks can even come close to comparing to him and it’s you

If he is Adonis, then you are Aphrodite (and vice versa)

When he sees you staring in the mirror for a beat too long and learns it’s NOT because you’re admiring your own beauty

oh honey

you’ve got a big storm comin’

We’re talking a self care whirlwind here

He’s got face creams, he’s got body scrubs, he’s got lotions, he’s got makeup, he’s bringing out the big guns

And he’s doing all the work too. Asmo is making sure you feel pampered and radiant by the end of the night

If self care doesn’t work, then he’s got other ways of convincing you *ahem hem*

Satan

You’re preaching to the choir hun

He can’t help himself, he compares his every move with Lucifer’s, worrying he’s not as good as him; worrying he’ll never best him

He knows how much that feeling sucks though, and he never ever wants you to even have an inkling of those thoughts

It happens during a study session in the library, he notices just how out of it you are today

“And what exactly is the correct terminology for hypnotizing someone with cursed speech, MC?…….MC?”

When you finally snap out of your haze and meet his eyes, he knows something in wrong

He’ll softly but steadfast question you, even if you don’t tell him the complete truth, he knows exactly what’s wrong, he can see it in your eyes. The same look he sees when he looks in the mirror.

“I’m just not as smart as you, Satan. I’m just a human. Let’s face it, I’m never gonna pass these exams. Diavolo’s gonna send me home because I’m just not good enough. I’m not as great as you all make me out to be.”

At those words, panic sets into his eyes temporarily before they soften

“MC, you’re the most remarkable being I’ve ever met. Quite frankly, I never thought a human could survive down here- well, there’s Solomon, but I wouldn’t quantify him as human. You’re certainly more clever than you think. Honestly, you’re not as great as we all think. You’re even better than that.

After his little pep talk, he’ll take you back to his room for a little study break. He’ll make you tea, read to you, nap with you, whatever makes you feel better.

You enchant him <3

Beel

This has Beel utterly baffled because the poor boy cannot wrap his head around why you or anyone else would ever have a negative thought about you

He may not speak it all the time because he just assumes you know but you are his everything

If even an inkling of a negative thought comes out of your mouth, Beel will stare at you straight faced for a beat before completely enveloping you into his strong arms

He’s not the best with words (usually, he leaves the poetics for his twin) but he will really make an attempt to chase these doubtful emotions from your mind

“MC, I don’t know what made you feel this way but I promise it’s far from the truth. Now, how can I help you feel better?”

Belphie

omg bestie him too, small world!!!

I mean, how could he be enough for you? He tried to kill you!!!

Mutual and constant assurance common between the two of you

And ever since the events of that day, a giant question has been gnawing at the back of your mind. You can’t help but let it slip one day

“Belphie, are you sure you love ME? That i’m not just a replacement in your mind for Lilith? You hated me until you found out I was her descendant…I-I mean, how could you change your mind that fast?”

He’s stunned to say the least, but shakes his head and softly smiles at you before stating

“Yes, I did hold a grudge against humans, but not particularly you. I would have attacked any human who found their way in front of me back then. Lilith is my sister, of course I love and miss her. But you MC? You are the light of my life. I could only see red until I saw through your human nature and finally saw the beautiful soul that is you. I realized I was wrong that day, wrong for a very long time. Now, I don’t want to waste anymore time, I want to spend it all with you.”

#obey me #obey me mammon #obey me shall we date #omswd #om #obey me headcannons #obey me mc #obey me x mc #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub #obey me asmo #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me belphie #obey me x reader #mammon headcannons #beelzebub headcanons #belphegor headcanons #asmodeus headcanons #lucifer headcanons #satan headcanons #leviathan headcanons #mammon x mc #lucifer x mc #beelzebub x mc #asmodeus x mc

[books-and-catears]

9 days of Solomon: Humanity

TW: Angst, death and slight self harm mention, Hurt/Comfort

"The Human Exchange students who have stolen many Devildom hearts" - the title of the magazine on Solomon's table. He stared lovingly, at the front page where you both posed for a picture, smiling at each other, your arms linked.

Your humanity - that was the one thing that he had sole knowledge of. He walked over to the window, watching you bid goodbye to the brothers who had come to visit Coccytus Hall.

He watches your tense shoulders relax, letting out a sigh of relief, the moment they were out of sight. The smile plastered on your face faltered as you walked into the house.

No more pretense. Now that it was only you and him again. He waited for you in the living room, opening his arms for you. You crashed into him without hesitation, breathing deeply.

"That must have been tiring?" He whispered, stroking your hair.

"Very much." You mumbled.

"Lets have an early dinner and head to bed."

"Solomon...can I sleep with you tonight again?"

"You know my answer will always be yes, MC."

It was going to be one of those nights again. You trembling and sobbing quietly, squeezing his hand with both of yours - after you thought he had fallen asleep.

He remembered the first time you did this, the sinking feeling in his chest, the searing rage in tightened fists, the devastation of seeing his bright and adorable apprentice in such pain.

You were definitely drunk from the human world cocktails you had downed in the bar. Else you would have never opened up.

"Solomon, I wish I could give you my pacts. I don't want them...I don't want anything to do with them... you're so lucky you got to live with the angels...Why couldn't Diavolo send me to Purgatory hall with you...I would have been so happy...I'm so tired of pretending it doesn't hurt..."

You were not happy at HOL with the brothers. That was the first truth bomb of many.

"I cannot stop having nightmares... I'm just a little human stuck among thousand year old celestials and demons...why am I here...I'm just a normal human... I'm *hic*...I'm so small...so insignificant...I just wanted a normal life...why am I here...why...can't I go back to normal..."

Solomon swallowed the growing lump in his throat. The way you smiled so brightly through everything, he forgot what an immense burden this would be for a normal human, how overwhelming all of this must have been for you.

"Noone here actually wants me... they're being nice to me for her...for Lilith...she's been gone for so long...and yet she is so loved...she's so lucky to be so loved...I wish..I really wish I could have that too..."

I do, MC. I love you. I love you for just you. He wanted to hold you tight and keep telling this to you. But he couldn't say it, not until you had let everything out.

"You know when I was dying...all I wanted to say a few goodbyes...I wanted to hug some people I loved...wanted to make some apologies...wanted to say a few thank yous... especially to you...But he didn't let me...he didn't let me...he made it so long and painful...why couldn't he have atleast made it quick...I wouldn't have fought to live if he just told me..."

Guilt pounded at his aching heart. He should have been there. He should have saved you.

"I'm so tired of the lies...Solomon, promise me if you run out of kindness for me one day...if you no longer want me around...please just tell me...I won't mind at all...I will do away with myself peacefully...I will cut off the pacts off my skin and give them to you if you'd like... please don't hurt me like he did...please, I just need one person to hold... without feeling afraid...please be on my side..."

Tears gathered at the corners of Solomon's eyes. When was the last time something has brought him to tears like this? He squeezed the hand you had placed in his.

You cried into his chest again tonight, silently this time. He already knew everything after all. But this time he held you tight, cooing reassurance in your ear, pressing urgent kisses on your head.

"You mean the world to me, MC. I will never hurt you. I don't need anything else...I just want you to be okay. I only want to protect you."

Your sobs were gentle now, softer, as you nuzzled deeper into his loving embrace. "Thank you...Thank you, Solomon."

"I love you, MC." The last thing he whispers just as you fall asleep, barely catching it.

You already knew more about him than anyone else. Noone quite fussed over his health and well-being as much as you. His immortality never made him less human to you. And for that he was eternally grateful.

Though the most of the humanity he vowed to protect didn't accept him - if it included you, he would happily die trying to protect it.

#obey me #obey me solomon #obey me angst #9daysofsolomon #obey me solomon x reader #this is hyper self indulgent #legit just needed to comfort myself more than anything else

[cooketimm]

Hardboiled #10-25 (1990-98) cover artwork by Bruce Timm

Interview from Cool Stuff Magazine #1 (1995):

Gary Lovisi: Much of your work is characterized by raw, intense energy and action, or beautiful women in stylish, dangerous settings. Some is obviously influenced by the pulps.

Bruce Timm: I’m big pulp fan, have been since the early 70s, when I started reading Doc Savage and Avenger reprints. I can’t really say how they’ve influenced my artwork much, except when doing pulp-homage stuff like the Bob Price books. But I do sometimes wish I was born decades earlier so I could have worked for some of the old pulps, which was why it was so much fun doing the Price stuff, and the «mock 50s» paperback covers for your Gryphon Books.

The hero pulps — Doc Savage, The Spider, The Shadow, etc — did have a big impact on my approach to the Batman cartoons. It’s something I tried to inject into the show from early on, the atmosphere, danger and illicit excitement, and especially that Norvell Page-type feeling of impending doom — the «doomed city» mood. It’s also why I set the sense in a timeless, 40s-styled world of big cars, padded shoulders, gangsters, shadowy streets, etc. I only wish we’d gone farther with it.  

For instance, my original version of Batman himself was actually close to the Shadow: rarely seen close-up, speaking in short, clipped phrases, more mysterious, literally. I wanted to play him cold and remote, almost unhuman. But the network and our various story editors would have none of that!  «We need to humanize him», «He needs to have a sense of humor», «We need to more about Bruce Wayne, the person», etc! Whereas I could care less about Bruce Wayne! He’s much more fascinating if you don’t know what he’s thinking, or what drives him.

A few «Shadowy» touches did survive. Batman is rarely seen be the public, almost never on TV. Even when dealing with the police, he’s usually off in shadows conferring with Commissioner Gordon only. And when he’s in the Batcave, he’s almost always in costume. My way of saying he’s Batman, not the other guy, not Bruce Wayne. Like Lamon Cranston, his true, «legal» identity is a facade.

I’ d love to do straight-ahead pulp hero adaptation someday. Doc or The Shadow or The Spider, either in comics or animation, without the senseless updating and over-explaining «character development» like in the Alec Baldwin-Shadow-fiasco-film.  

Gary Lovisi: Your stunning covers for my Hardboiled mag are very popular with everyone who sees them. What are your feelings on hardboiled crime-related art?

Bruce Timm: It’s hard, actually, to define «crime-fiction» art. There’s pulp crime-fiction art, and digest crime-fiction art, both of which cross over with paperback crime-fiction art. Basically, I’m a fan of good illustration. Period. Regardless of subject matter. Composition, emotionally intensity, color and lighting effects are what I look for. And pretty girls, of course!   

My favorite pulp crime artist is H. J. Ward, hands down. Gorgeous gals in twisty curvy poses, painted in luscious, creamy, wet-on-wet oil technique. My favorite paperback artists include Robert McGinnis, Robert Maguire, and Mitchell Hooks, the usual suspects.

My approach to the Hardboiled covers is different from my earlier «homage» work. When the covers were black and white, I used to experiment with different b&w textures, coquille board, zip-a-tone, xeroxed newsprint, whatever worked. Now that I’m doing them in color, I’m trying to make them as exciting and eye-catching as possible, with loud color, sexy gals, exaggerated action, and simple, graphic, almost cartoony styling.

#bruce timm #pulp #cover #cover art #interview

[suzukiblu]

Day fourteen of fic NaNoWriMo; obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

Kon comes back before Tim has finished having his internal crisis and immediately makes it worse, because as it turns out the clothes fit and he looks extremely good in cashmere. 

And extremely good in skinny jeans. 

Oh no, Tim thinks with no small amount of dread. A flash of self-consciousness slips across Kon's face, and then he puts on a confident smirk and strikes one of those stupid teen-magazine poses, which he unfortunately makes look very good despite, again, how stupid it is. 

Tim is so far gone, isn’t he. 

“What do you think, man? Is it my color?” Kon asks, smoothing a broad flat palm down over the chest of his sweater. Tim, very desperately, wants to be the person doing that. 

Jesus Christ, no one should be allowed to look like this in cold blood. Especially not in an outfit thrown together in four minutes and fifty-nine seconds. But of course Kon would, the asshole. 

“We should style your hair differently too,” Tim says, trying not to choke and die on how hot this stupid fucking bastard looks in stupid fucking cashmere.

“Why?” Kon asks, looking puzzled. 

“You'd be amazed how different changing your hair up can make you look,” Tim says. And also he desperately wants Kon to let him change his hair for weird, weird reasons that he doesn't want to examine very closely right now.

Later. He'll examine them later. 

Privately. 

“Uh, okay,” Kon says, and does in fact let Tim dig out his hair gel and a comb and re-style his hair. Tim tries not to obsess over having Kon’s hair in his hands and just slicks it back off his face with a little of the gel because that’s the most efficient option, although then he’s reminded of the Kool-Aid incident and Kon standing in front of him in the base in his soaking wet skin-tight suit and raking his rainbow-dripping hair back out of his bright, bright eyes and–

Later. 

Tim is in so much trouble here, he thinks in resignation, and then wonders both why he decided to re-style Kon’s hair himself and why Kon just let him. Why the hell did either of them let that happen? 

He steps back, trying not to think weird things like how Kon probably would’ve tasted like black cherry Kool-Aid and wondering what he might taste like now, and then a much, much worse thing happens to him, because then he meets Kon’s eyes again and realizes Kon just let him dress and style him. Just–everything but his boots, Tim picked out. Gave to him or did for him. That pettable sweater and the tight, fitted jeans and the slicked-back hair all out of the way of those bright, bright eyes and–

Fuck, Tim thinks with far, far too much feeling. 

“There we go,” he says, then reaches out for the shopping bag in Kon’s hand. “Jacket and glasses in here?” 

“Uh, yeah,” Kon says, blinking at him as he lets him take the bag in apparent bewilderment. It occurs to Tim that Kon has probably literally never had someone else carry something for him unless it was something exceptionally fragile or difficult to operate, but he’s committed now and also it’s not like it’s heavy anyway, so . . . yeah, he’s committed now. 

Anyway, having super-strength doesn’t mean Kon has to carry everything. Especially when the bag barely weighs a thing anyway. Tim can swing around Gotham one-armed while carrying a panicking civilian; a shopping bag with a leather jacket and a couple of accessories in it is not exactly an imposition. 

And, well . . . this is a date, technically. So why wouldn't he carry Kon's bag? 

Aside from the doomed effort that is mapping heteronormativity onto a non-heteronormative situation and possibly making Kon feel emasculated or awkward or potentially coming on too strong and–

Kon reddens, just a little, then grins brightly at him. Tim forgets literally every single thought in his head, which is actually a very impressive feat because Tim is usually thinking several layers of thoughts and they're always annoyingly complicated. This situation is more “head empty, stomach doing quadruple-backflips”, though. 

Kon grinning is bad enough when he's not doing it at him, though. 

Tim should've better prepared himself for this, but in his defense, in what possible world would he have been able to predict this situation? Really? What possible one? 

“Smoothie time?” Kon asks. 

“Smoothie time,” Tim agrees, because anything else would require the capacity to actually think straight and that's going to take a few minutes. 

They head across the courtyard towards the smoothie shop. Tim does not succeed in regaining the capacity to think straight because Kon continues to be wearing clothes he bought for him. Clothes he bought and picked out for him, specifically. 

That is . . . a whole thing, apparently. Apparently that's a thing. Suddenly Tim has to reexamine the way he felt every time he gave Steph a Bat-gadget and wish he'd thought to examine those feelings sooner.

Like much, much sooner. 

Tim orders a basic blackberry smoothie that has maybe four ingredients in it, counting the yogurt and almond milk base. Kon orders some ridiculous flavor monstrosity with basically every tropical fruit on the menu, which is the least Gothamite option he could've gone for but therefore not particularly surprising. There's guava in it. Tim doesn't even know what guava tastes like. He's not even sure he'd know what one looked like, if Poison Ivy wasn't a thing. Like–why would he, after all?

Tim pays, obviously. Kon gets a little bit of an odd look on his face again, but doesn’t say anything about it. Well–he thanks him, but nothing else. Tim considers that a good sign, or at least a good start. 

The smoothies come in clear plastic cups, and Tim's is a uniform purple with darker flecks here and there in it. Kon's, on the other hand, looks like a sunrise with a swirly straw stuck in it, because of course it does. Tim doesn’t know what else he should’ve expected, really. 

“Do you think they could’ve fit a few more islands in there?” he asks wryly. “Maybe a peninsula or two?” 

“I mean, it could use some päpipi, probably,” Kon says before taking a sip. Tim has no idea what that is, but is distracted pretending not to pay attention to his mouth. It probably doesn’t work, but Kon’s not always the most observant guy, so it’s . . . fine, probably? Hopefully? “Wanna try it?” 

“I’m good, thanks,” Tim says, because he cannot possibly handle even the implication of putting his mouth on something Kon has put his mouth on. Like, ever. 

Ever. 

“You sure?” Kon asks, grinning slyly around his straw at him. “It’s pretty tasty.” 

Tim is a very, very weak man. 

“Maybe just a sip,” he says.

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #young just us #young justice #rinfic #wip: obligatory sugar baby kon #long post

[alitheakorogane]

SAGAU Brainrot... Regarding the Artifacts!

Do you know that there is a logical reason why Genshin Impact playable characters are in a praying pose on the artifact menu... and why you can't change the artifacts while in battle?

According to the Genshin Development Team interview by PASH! Magazine (May 2021 Issue), the reason why you can't equip them in battle is that the artifacts' blessings and protections are actually received by the characters through a prayer ceremony/ritual they had done before they departed on a journey!

This also explains why they are in a prayer position while you equip them with those artifacts!

---------

(SAGAU Idea)

Imposter/Vilain AU: The player, after returning back to their home world after their death under the hands of the Archons and Teyvatians, angrily removed the artifacts of the people who wronged them and placed them on the characters who helped the player, so they could taste the wrath of the player for once.

Imagine how the Archons and the characters who killed their real Creator felt when the Creator's "blessings" that are blessed on them before are now being removed and replaced with shitty ones. No matter how they pray or beg to the heavens above, nothing changed for them, now that their artifact menu is empty or replaced with shitty stats. Hilichurls can now be difficult to fight, even Abyss Mages are laughing at them for their shit damage while trying to break the shields.

Meanwhile, some lucky ones who were weak before (but they did their best to help the player) are becoming stronger than the Archons themselves because of the Creator's "blessings" bestowed on them recently.

Normal SAGAU: The now self-aware characters are happy when you won artifacts with good stats on the domain, knowing that they are going to be equipped by them (especially if they hear you say about the characters who will be equipping them). They repay you back by doing a great job with those damage numbers, doing some intense crit, or having fun with those numbers flying around the place.

#sagau #sagau impostor au #sagau brainrot #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #sagau villain au #imposter sagau #sagau x reader #genshin impact self aware #self aware au #self aware genshin #genshin self aware #genshin #genshin impact #genshin artifacts #genshin impact artifacts #imposter au #villain au #genshin villain au #genshin cult au #sagau cult au #cult au #genshin impact au #genshin au

[chessasubbiondo]

Chessa Subbiondo for Office Magazine NYC

Words by Sahir Ahmed

Photos by Lulu Syracuse

Interview Questions Below

 What is it like being in front of another photographer’s lens?

 I really do not enjoy having my photo taken, which I find is kind of an obviously common theme with photographers. I feel a lot more comfortable having someone I know take my photo. It is a very weird thing being a girl in 2023 while also trying to "put out" art. I really battle with cohesion between the two and I think that’s why my instinct is to refrain from showcasing myself. I’m still very unsure of myself, I am much more sure of my work. 

 Do you emulate the kind of vibe you aim to capture in your own photographs or meet in the middle?  Where’d you shoot this?

I think I definitely try and bring as much of me into a photo taken of me as possible, but it is also different because you have to respect the person who’s taking it as well. I’m not good at letting go of control and that’s what it feels like to have my photo taken. No photo taken of me will ever have the same “vibe” as my own work, but that’s cool, it shouldn’t.  We shot this around Los Angeles, basically all the area’s we grew up in. 

 How do you aim to dress when having your photo taken? Do you style your subjects the same? 

 The way I dress historically changes all the time but I think I’m getting the hang of narrowing it down. I always look back at things I wore a few months ago and question why I thought that was a good choice. I think the best way to beat this is to try and emulate as much simplicity as possible in a general sense, nothing too trendy etc. This of course depends on the occasion, depends on the photo, etc. I don’t know, I dress myself a lot differently than the people I take photos of. I want my subjects to appear family brand ecom esc. “Boring” clothes, minimal patterns, sportswear, etc. When I am given the freedom to dress the people I shoot I don’t want the clothes to be the focus ever.  

 What subjects are you drawn to shooting? Do they mirror similarities with yourself?

 Not at all, I don’t think I’m moldable enough and typically the people I am drawn to shoot are. If I could go back in time I would have no tattoos and would grow my hair long with no stylized cut what so ever, stuff like that. I like when someone looks like they could be from anywhere, there’s no time or location stamp on them. 

 Do you feel like your photos emulate the same energy that you do? 

 I don’t think so but it depends on the day. The photos I take look intentionally set up and often the subjects are posed pretty purposefully. It depends on the person I’m shooting, everyone kind of has their go to face or pose, it’s interesting to watch. I always love when I do catch something natural though, everyone looks they’re best when they’re not aware of being perceived. I feel very awkward in front of the camera and I tend to instinctively hide my face or tilt myself in the directions I’ve practiced in the mirror since I was younger that I think “look best”. Whenever someone shows me a photo myself I didn’t know was being taken I always like it a little more.