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asamiontop · 3 years ago

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A few of the images in question…

Bothered - Part 2

Part 1 here (with the inspiration cover art from @papurrcat)

Kara stops at the newsstand outside the Lena Luthor Foundation to buy a fresh copy of the magazine. The one she carried from her apartment is a little too wind blown and a lot too crinkled from her wringing grip. Lena deserves to have nice, non-wrinkly things.

Kara turns and her eyes track up the skyscraper that houses Lena’s new headquarters. She might be uncharacteristically nervous to see her friend today, but she’s still proud to be walking through these doors to meet her. The new office, the new mission, the not-so-new name… they’re all evidence of Lena’s perseverance, her singular focus to do good in the world.

Hence why Kara had fought to be assigned the article and interview in the first place. She had taken to the task with relish, eager to show the world the many incredible facets of one Lena Luthor. She hadn’t expected the photographer for her piece to take such a… different approach. To unveil an edgier, more carnal side of Lena even Kara hadn’t known.

Kara swallows and tries not to shred the brand new copy of Lena’s cover article into tatters between her nervous fingers. She deposits it delicately (if not a little twitchily) into her bag and forces herself through the revolving doors and up to Lena’s office.

“Kara, hi!” Lena greets her with breathless wonder as Kara eases the door open. She sounds just as pleasantly surprised as if Kara hadn’t announced her visit via text message minutes before. The dazzling smile Lena tosses her way curls around Kara’s spine and squeezes, effortlessly dissipating the tension that had gathered on the elevator ride up. Kara grins back wide.

“Hey Lena,” she responds, a little hushed. The young Luthor shuts her laptop and moves to stand. “Oh no, please don’t get up on my account!”

“Don’t be silly,” Lena waves her off and sweeps elegantly out of her chair. She may not be a corporate billionaire any longer, but she still carries herself like the most expensive person in the room. It never fails to leave Kara in a bit of a daze. Especially when all of that enchanting energy is directed at folding Kara into a tingling full-bodied hug. “I was about to take a break anyhow. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Besides me missing you?” Kara sighs over Lena’s shoulder. She’s taken to allowing herself an extra few seconds in their embraces lately. Now that they’re on sure footing again, she won’t miss any opportunity to let her best friend know how valued she is.

“We had movie night just yesterday,” Lena argues weakly. Kara hears the way her breath whooshes out of her though and she smiles. Lena may never admit it, but Kara is keenly aware of how the former CEO melts a little at the very idea of being appreciated. And Kara is a total glutton for giving Lena that satisfaction.

“That was a whole sixteen hours ago!” They release one another slowly and Kara tips her head to the side. “Today is a new day. I need my Lena fix.”

Lena’s diffident huff pushes Kara’s smile out to her ears. She loses track of time watching an imperceptible blush dust across the shorter woman’s cheekbones.

“So,” Lena begins after indulging Kara’s staring far longer than she would anyone else, “is feeding your addiction the only reason you came to see me? Or do I have something else to thank for the impromptu visit?”

“Oh!” It’s not exactly Kara’s fault that Lena’s scronchy smile and barely there perfume distracted her from the task at hand. She’s Kryptonian, not made of stone. “Actually yes!”

She fumbles in her messenger bag and retrieves the magazine, holding the cover against her chest to prolong the reveal. “Catco’s new issue came out today. The one with the article I interviewed you for.”

“Oh!” Green eyes brighten even as Lena shakes her head. “Goodness, I got so caught up with paperwork… I’d actually forgotten.” She smiles apologetically at Kara but her gaze dips excitedly to the bound papers gathered in the super’s arms.

Kara wastes no time and extends them in offering. “You’re the feature, you know. Cover and everything.”

Lena blushes lightly once more and Kara revels in the sight as she plucks the glossy papers carefully out of the extended grip and walks over to the couch. Kara follows and holds her breath as Lena turns the magazine over.

“Oh wow,” Lena whispers, a hint of a smile in her words. Kara recognizes the quick stutt-stutter of her heart as she catches sight of the cover. “I…” she laughs and shakes her head. “I honestly didn’t think they would use some of these shots. Let alone on the front page…”

Kara watches intently. Her cheeks are beginning to heat at the sight of real-life Lena spreading her pretty fingers over the tantalizing picture of herself. She swallows down her fidgeting as Lena tilts her head curiously and flips the issue open.

Minutes go by in silence. Kara follows the movement of Lena’s eyes, shifting colors as they dash across the page. Eventually her eyebrows raise, a soft expression of gratitude trapped between her dark lashes and parted lips. “Wow, Kara. This is…”

“I mean every word,” Kara smiles. “I wanted to give the world a glimpse of all the different parts of the Lena that I know. In case you missed it, you’re pretty great.” Lena ducks her head bashfully and Kara scoots a few inches closer on the couch, eager to coax a few more diffident smiles. She leans in so she can glance at the open pages over Lena’s shoulder. “I didn’t get to see the layout before it got published, but I really think the photos—”

“Wait, you didn’t even get a chance to agree to these?” Lena turns to her with alarm. “I’m so sorry!”

“What? No, it’s—”

“Oh god. I know how awful it is to have your creative agency taken away from you… I shouldn’t have let myself get so caught up at the photoshoot.” Lena rushes to absorb all blame faster than Kara can fly. Kara moves her mouth to argue but Lena shakes her head, redirects her now stricken attention to the images on the page. “How inconsiderate of me. I’d been thinking about how we discussed fashion in the interview and considered that it might be fun to put that twist in the photos. Andrea was so encouraging… She had dozens of ideas and we had such fun with the entire team, I… I got carried away and didn’t even think about how it might work with your writing. I’m so sorry, Kara.”

Kara waits a few beats. When the silence has lasted long enough to assure her Lena has finished, she reaches out and places her hand gently above Lena’s knee. The young Luthor turns to her. “It was not a big deal at all. The only reason I didn’t get to see the spread before it went to copy was because of a Supergirl emergency. Not because Andrea didn’t let me see it.”

That seems to reassure Lena somewhat. She takes a short breath and a fraction of the concern dissipates from her eyes. Kara smiles encouragingly and tilts closer, pointedly directing her gaze to the magazine for Lena’s to follow.

“Besides,” she ignores the way her own throat tightens at the combination of Lena’s physical proximity and the ideas that surge whenever she catches a glimpse of her in those poses. “I think you look amazing.”

Kara hears the reverent awe in her whisper and it occurs to her that she might sound a bit too… earnest. “I mean, uh, the entire layout looks amazing,” she corrects awkwardly.

Unfortunately, Kara’s candidness is incredibly persistent. It wants to go nowhere but out. “And you look so beautiful, Lena. Powerful, elegant, and um…” Kara hesitates long enough to lower her voice around the word that has traveled to the tip of her tongue quite without her permission. “Sexy,” she croaks quietly.

Lena’s breathing does a rapid stop-start. “Oh.” Her voice sounds paper thin and Kara grinds her teeth, hoping against hope she didn’t make Lena too uncomfortable with her compliments.

“Um. Thank you,” Lena mutters. She hedges for a second, then redirects expertly. “Are you sure it’s alright, though? I hate that I enabled Andrea to encroach on your freedom to tell the story your way. I can give her a call and—”

“I’m sure,” Kara entreats, slipping effortlessly into ‘comfort Lena’ mode and tightening the fingers wrapped around the other woman’s knee. “The whole spread fits really well with the theme I envisioned for the piece: ‘the different facets of Lena Luthor.’ Besides, I think the photographs manage to show a side of you that’s not captured in the text.”

Then, distracted by the alluring gaze of Lena in print and the warmth of Lena in the flesh, Kara adds forlornly, “A side of you I’ve never gotten to see before.”

Lena furrows her brow and the inaudible sound of her skin knitting into wrinkles alerts Kara back to reality. “A side you’ve never… but you know me better than anyone, Kara. What ‘side’ do you mean?” Lena queries, hesitation coloring her voice.

The side that screams ‘take me,’ Kara’s brain supplies unhelpfully. She manages to keep that lethal answer appropriately locked away but struggles to find one she can give that doesn’t sound absurdly similar.

“You know…” her communication skills are rapidly evacuating her mind, “the side of you that’s more, uh…” Kara squirms, straightens glasses that aren’t there, works her mouth silently around nothing, and swallows three or four times before pursing her lips and releasing the only somewhat neutral word she can think of: “seductive.”

“Seductive.” Lena repeats it like a question.

“Yeah,” Kara heaves.

Another crinkle appears between Lena’s manicured eyebrows. “Well,” she begins, sounding like she intends to explain herself, “I mean. That’s not—you and I, we…” Lena pauses again, clearly at a loss for words. It pains Kara to see how miserably awkward she’s made this.

She removes her hand because the skin of Lena’s thigh suddenly feels like fire on her palm.

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, Lena,” Kara moves to intercept the trajectory of the conversation and wrangle it onto more even ground. “As a matter of fact, that’s the other reason I came over. It’s… what I wanted to talk to you about. I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide parts of yourself from me.”

Now Lena looks plainly confused. “Hide…?”

Kara nods emphatically. This is the discussion she’d been angling for. “You can be any version of yourself with me, Lena. Silly, sad, tired…” (Kara can’t help the way her eyes stick like glue to the image of the Luthor sporting a gorgeous ring, her tight ponytail clutched in her own fist.) “Even the sensual side. I love every part of you.”

“That’s… um,” Lena begins unsteadily, still blatantly perplexed, “incredibly sweet of you to say. But I… I’ve never intended to hide from you, Kara. I’m genuinely sorry if it appears that way.”

Lena seems well and truly thrown, but bless her heart she’s doing her best to engage with the Kryptonian’s disparate points. She pauses thoughtfully. “I guess I’d say that any type of… ‘seductive’ behavior just seems a little… inappropriate to impose on you?”

Lena attempts to assuage Kara’s concerns with kindness but even then it comes out like a question. Kara barrels forward to try to help her understand.

“That’s what I’m trying to say—I don’t want you to feel like that’s inappropriate with me! You’re not imposing!” Lena’s brow wrinkles again and Kara tries to clarify. “I like being there for you, no matter how you’re feeling. I love acting ridiculous with you when you’re feeling silly. When you’re upset, I’m always ready to cry with you or listen or hug you until you can’t breathe. And when you’re tired I have been known to provide the best snuggles in National City.”

Lena's fond smile snags all of Kara’s focus for a second, which is why she doesn’t fully comprehend the implications of saying, “So when you’re feeling more… sexual or whatever,” the word absolutely sticks to Kara’s throat so she rasps it as best she can, “I want to be able to help with that, too. You don’t need to keep it from me. Inappropriate or not, I’m here for you Lena. For everything you need.”

Lena’s eyes widen. “You—you want to… help with…”

“Yes!” Kara nods. “You wouldn’t be imposing. I’d hate for you to have to seek that… that, uh,” she stumbles over the word pleasure and flounders dumbly for a few seconds before landing on an eloquent, “stuff… from anyone else. Not when you have me.”

Lena is openly gaping at Kara now. She stares for several silent moments before shaking her head and clearing her throat. “Let me get this straight. Y-you want me to… be open, with you specifically, whenever I’m in a sex—seductive mood?”

Kara nods again, silently encouraging. Lena proceeds with caution. “And you are offering to… what, exactly?”

“Whatever you need, Lena,” Kara answers immediately. The words are neutral but her neurons light up with images of Lena’s ponytail wrapped around her fist and the prominent tendons of Lena’s neck flexing under her tongue.

“Oookay…” Lena drags out the word. “And… you’d hate for me to seek that sort of attention from anyone else?”

“You got it!” Kara smiles brilliantly. Lena always understood her better than anyone. She watches expectantly as her friend turns this information over in her head.

“Kara…” Lena’s sigh sounds more melancholy than anything. “I don’t mean this poorly but… don’t you think that sort of attention might be a bit too… intimate?”

Kara’s throat goes dry. She hadn’t really thought anything could ever be ‘too intimate’ between the two of them. It’s them. It’s Lena. Kara hasn’t yet encountered a boundary she isn’t willing to blast to smithereens for this woman. Kara tells her so.

“Oh.” Lena goes silent. Her eyes fall to her lap where the cover of magazine stares damningly into Kara’s soul.

The quiet drags on as Lena ponders and Kara watches nervously, keeping her fidgeting to a minimum so she doesn’t break anything. She’s not sure what she’s expecting, but after a few agonizing moments it seems Lena decides on something.

When she turns back to Kara, her eyes burn hotter than the smolder that’s frozen on the page.

“Are you asking me to seduce you, Supergirl?”

It sounds like she could be joking, if either of them wanted an out. But Lena’s voice is sinfully sultry even in jest and it seeps through Kara’s pretenses like water through a sieve. She gulps and, Rao help her, caves without a second thought. She nods vigorously, captivated by the promise ahead.

Lena’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly. Even without the tell, Kara can hear the way her heart picks up its pace. The rhythm is far too inviting to ignore. Kara thinks about how it might taste different at the base of Lena’s throat or at the inside of her wrist or the juncture of her inner thigh. Evidently the drumbeat can accomplish a fair share of seducing all on its own.

Emboldened, Lena slides closer over the leather, injecting a fluidity into her movements that wasn’t there a split second ago. It makes the muscles in Kara’s fingers twitch with the desire to feel. Lena’s voice drops to a low rumble that vibrates through the couch and she leans a few tantalizing degrees closer to Kara.

“Are you also suggesting that you don’t want me to engage in any such flirtations with anyone else?”

“No,” Kara chokes out. She can’t escape the tempting notion that Lena is hers alone. “No one else,” she clarifies. “Just me.”

The shaky admission lights a furnace somewhere within her body. She can’t locate it exactly but it sends heat thundering to her cheeks, her neck, the space between her legs.

Lena leans closer and suddenly all Kara knows is the smell of her perfume. How she’d managed to survive its spell before is beyond understanding, but now it’s all Kara can do to string two breaths together without wanting to drown in the scent.

“Then tell me, darling,” Lena purrs, stretching like a cat across the seat until her mouth hovers by Kara’s ear and her hair tumbles onto the sleeve of Kara’s sweater. “What can I expect to receive if I agree, hm?”

Kara makes a bit of a strangled sound as Lena tips up and brushes her lips over the shell of her ear. She loses the battle of self-control to a full body shiver when Lena whispers a suggestion, hot breath washing over Kara’s skin. “A kiss, perhaps?”

“Yes,” is the obvious answer, even though Kara’s voice cracks open on the idea of it alone. Lena’s hum of satisfaction sends another ripple through them both. Since when are their chests touching? Kara’s is heaving wildly and if it weren’t for the booming beat of Lena’s heart, she would think her best friend was perfectly at ease in this otherwise devastating situation.

It’s wicked, the way Lena’s tongue darts out and paints a short but blazing trail over Kara’s ear. “Or could I have more? Would you give me more if I asked?”

Kara just groans her agreement, brain effectively ruined. She discovers belatedly that her hands have found the curve of Lena’s waist. They fit perfectly, kneading into the softness of her sides, keeping their bodies close.

“Any—” Kara surprises herself with the hoarseness of her own voice. She clears her throat but it does nothing at all to help. So she squeezes Lena carefully between her palms, delights in the way her friend’s sharp inhale presses outward against her fingertips.

“You can have anything you want,” Kara promises.

Lena’s heartbeat stutters again. That’s the only warning Kara receives before Lena is sitting back, putting a very unwelcome few inches of distance between them. Kara’s hands remain anchored on her waist.

“And what do you want, Kara?”

The question is a pointed deviation from the last few titillating seconds. Lena’s eyes are serious all of a sudden, earnest, boring into hers. Kara trips on the change of pace. She hasn’t allowed herself time to consider the question this way. The only thing she knows for certain is that she doesn’t want to let Lena go. “Me?” Lena nods.

Kara’s fingers flex and she looks away, nervous in the spotlight that’s been turned on her. “I�� I, um—” The crinkle appears. It’s not as if she doesn’t want at all—Kara can infer that much. If she thinks back, she recognizes that when it comes to Lena, she’s wanted for as long as she can remember. But the ‘what’ is a doozy.

It’s lived as an amorphous ‘more’ since the beginning—more lunches, more coffee breaks, more movie nights, more sleepovers, more closeness. The list was never ending, but closeness to Lena lived permanently at the top. It wasn’t until Kara saw those photos—images that seemed to capture Lena’s desire, a desire of a very specific kind, and reflect it right back—that the vague idea of what Kara yearned for began to take shape.

This new ground they’re standing on is upending her entire understanding of what she’s always craved with Lena. It transforms from an intangible ‘more’ to an explosive ‘everything,’ and Kara can barely wrap her head around how this may fundamentally change their relationship, let alone how to ask for it. So she stammers helplessly, caught red-handed longing for something she couldn’t name until it turned around to look her in the eye.

Lena is wondrous. Kara has known this forever and is reminded of the fact when her best friend senses her hesitation and, instead of assuming rejection and fleeing, gathers Kara’s incongruence up in gentle hands and reshapes it into a question she has a prayer of answering.

Softly, patiently, Lena smiles. “Let’s start small,” she offers quietly. Kara blinks, breathing uneven, and rubs her thumbs across the top of Lena’s ribcage as acquiescence. Lena holds her gaze steadily and reaches up with one hand, setting it gently on Kara’s shoulder. She slides it carefully inward until her fingertips meet the overheated side of Kara’s neck.

The direct contact sucks all of the Kryptonian’s focus like a black hole. Her entire world narrows to Lena’s thumb as it sweeps lightly over the sensitive front of her throat, dips into the hollow of her collarbone and then tracks back up to rest beseechingly beneath her chin. Lena’s eyes drop heavily to Kara’s mouth and she feels them like glittering emerald brands.

“Do you want this?” Lena finally asks, finding Kara’s eyes through her lashes. She’s incredibly gracious for breaking this tumultuous realization into bite-sized pieces for Kara, but Kara isn’t blind to the unspoken question floating in her eyes. Lena is achingly vulnerable in her hands, exposing a guarded and tender part of herself to Kara, asking, wondering if she is wanted.

The notion of Lena feeling anything but treasured and appreciated borders on offensive. Kara can hem and haw all she wants but she will die before she lets Lena doubt for a second how much she is desired in every way imaginable.

“Yes,” Kara answers. The released truth leaves her light as a feather, but it charges the air as Lena exhales her apprehension in tiny, nervous breath. Kara crowds closer. Any distance feels excessive all of a sudden. “I want you very much,” she amends, ducking her head so she can press her lips to the pad of Lena’s thumb.

Lena suppresses a watery chuckle. The wetness in her eyes catches the sun and turns them a soft, mossy amber. Their foreheads gravitate together, magnetized by sheer relief. Lena’s eyes flutter shut and Kara is busy being enthralled by the way her lashes brush the tops of her cheeks when she asks, hesitant once more, “Do you want this— us… more than once?”

Another idea to consider. This answer takes no time at all. “Yes.” Kara presses forward, brushes Lena’s nose with the tip of hers. “As many times as you’ll let me.

“One step at a time,” Lena smiles, radiant even as she pokes gentle fun. “Why don’t we see how this first one goes, shall we?”

Kara thinks the force of her yes could swallow them both whole.

In the end, it’s not the dark seductress Kara encountered in print that pulls Kara’s lips to hers. It’s the Lena she knows, the Lena she loves, soft and candid and hers, that guides Kara down into the last first kiss of her life.

(“I should have known you’d be really good at this,” Kara mumbles later as they ease apart and back together again.

“At what?” Lena inquires from her tantalizing perch astride the Kryptonian’s lap. “Kissing?”

“Seducing me,” Kara corrects breathily and presses her mouth to Lena’s bright laugh. “The kissing part, too.” Her hands are still tucked tightly around the small of Lena’s waist and she’s beginning to wonder if it’s worth ever letting go. “You're good at everything, Lena. I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Their kiss lingers for a several lazy seconds before Lena pulls back, slowly releasing Kara’s lower lip from between her teeth. She pins Kara with a devastating stare and licks her lips. “Would you like to find out what else I’m good at?”

Kara’s never flown anyone faster than she does that day.)

(Later, later, during her Best Sister speech at Kara and Lena’s wedding, Alex teases them relentlessly for flirting in published print before ever figuring anything out in person.)

#supercorp #idk this feels like a crack fic to me #ficlet #continuation #i have no excuse

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personasintro · 2 years ago

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Okay after reading the chapter thrice, I've come to conclusions.

1. You wrote frankly one of the best smuts I've ever read. Easily in the top 5. I am surprised how upset i was when he didn't finish inside her lol. Guess i discovered a new kink of mine, gotta thank you for that

2. I absolutely LOVE their friendship. Not just jk and y/n. All four of them. I loved how jimin was super concerned but jk literally said 'thanks but no thanks' to his advice lol, jk chose getting laid over jimin's concern 😭 I loved how tae was enjoying the entire drama unfold like a high class aunty with a cup of tea in her hand, i fucking love him

3. I think y/n felt threatened more than jealous. It's only normal to feel like that. It's human nature to feel a little threatened when your best friends find new friends. Jk never meant to make her feel that way. He honestly didn't even think that far i guess. Men are dumb. He thought it'd be nice to have a new person to hang out with, maybe everyone will like her and she could make a few friends. Y/n has been the only girl all 3 of her close friends cherish. She is used to that treatment. She kept getting annoyed with jk's behaviour and it came out all wrong. She never said he can't have friends, she just felt threatened that jk is trying to bring another girl into their very close knitted group. It didn't sit right with her. Leave my girl alone she's only human 😭

4. If this fic was real and my best friend was taking that tone while talking to me, i would've bitch slapped him and then slam dunked him to the floor. Or i would've been like 'whatever '. There's no in between. JK should thank his stars that fiction yn just expressed her annoyance with her words

5. I want to give mama Jeon a hug

1. First of all thank you! I know I talked about the smut topic a few times now but it never really was something that I was most proud of ?? Whenever I would read a smut work by another writer, most of them would write it like a piece of art and they really have the talent for that! I know I did my best and I’m still trying to (that’s the only thing that don’t make me too insecure about my smut lol). I’m glad you and the rest of the readers are enjoying it!! It makes me super happy 🥹

2. Yes, their friendship is definitely a highlight of this story and I gotta say, I’m very happy how I’ve managed to portray it! 🙆‍♀️ hahaha he doesn’t like when someone sticks their nose into his business. Partly his reaction is caused because of y/n because he saw she feels visibly uncomfortable, in a way he tried to protect her from Jimin’s (right) words lol

3. What more is there to say? She felt all sorts of emotions 🥺🙆‍♀️

4. Haha she would do it! She can be cruel too when she wants to be, but inviting Yoongi seemed to be the best punishment for jk lmao she wanted to get back at him badly

5. Yes! Such a precious woman!! 🥹

#ask #ask: mutual help

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finelinevogue · 3 years ago

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Ok so I saw your post abt a concept for his tour and what about y/n get super emotional while he’s performing cause she’s been with him since his X factor or 1 Direction days and her Anne and Gemma are just singing and getting emotional cause they are really proud of him idk lmao you can put your own spin to it if you want love your writing by the way! 🤍

thank you so much that means the world to me!! hope this is kind of what you meant?? it’s very short sorry! ;

“We’ll be a fine line.” Harry repeated the line again. The line that absolutely tore you to pieces and yet made you feel less numb and alone.

You stood watching him from the side of the stage, tears streaming down your face like a constant salty waterfall. Anne and Gemma stood next to you, hugging each other as they listened to Harry sing a song that meant so much to him; to you. You stood by alone, yet had never felt so comforted and warm what with watching the love of your life perform and sing this in dedication for you. You’d cried when he’d first played you the song, but this was different. He was playing it live to 1,000s of people and yet every word sung was written for you.

You see, you and Harry had been practically attached at the wombs - your mum and Anne being best friends too. You were born to be best friends with Harry. You grew up together, went to school together and shared the same birthday actually - although he never fails to remind you how he’s older than you by 7 minutes. You went to college together only to then lose contact with him after he was signed to be in a band; One Direction. It wasn’t until 2013 that you reunited and he admitted how much he’d missed you at the same time you admitted that you loved him. A simple kiss afterwards was all it took to be completely his. Still are. Fine Line was all about the two years that you had no contact with each other and how you were so much stronger for it - how you’d be alright.

You now sang the lyrics to the song back at him, noticing how his body was tilted slightly to the side to face you. You loved the subtly of his movement, only loving him so much more for it. His guitar playing was simply beautiful, jogging your memory back to the time when he tried to teach you how to play it.

As the song reached the climax and the trumpets were about to start playing, Harry turned to put down his guitar. He waved to the audience as the trumpets began, the crowds screaming louder and louder. You noticed fans crying when they thought they saw Harry waving at them. Anne and Gemma were screaming for him, but you just stood idly and watched him in his element. He looked so beautiful up there in the blue glow of lights, posing his fine line stance. A work of art, he was. He stepped back to the mic and looked over at you briefly, giving you a small smile when you put your shaky thumbs up for him.

“Remember to be whoever you want to be! Love who you want to love! Marry who you want to marry! I’m lucky to have done all three of those things and I hope you can all find the same happiness I did!” Harry shouted through the microphone and you cried a little bit more as he admitted, for the first time, that you’d gotten married. You hadn’t wanted to go public when it wasn’t really a necessity to do so, but Harry got fed up of hiding it and told you he’d do a surprise announcement of it - so, you guess this was it. “I love you all and goodnight.” He waved one final time, blowing kisses here, there and everywhere.

Then he ran straight over to you first, not stopping until his lips met yours. You heard people around you squeal in delight and some cameras flashing to obviously commemorate the moment. You pulled away from his luscious lips, knowing you’d give him more later, and smiled so widely at him.

“Was I good?” He asked, you knowing he loves a good ego boost. Bloody narcissist.

“So fucking good.”

“Favourite song?”

“Stupid question.” You rolled your eyes, slapping his chest lightly and feeling the sweat that he was absolutely covered in. It wad kind of hot, to be honest.

“Fine Line, again?” He asked, knowing that was your favourite but maybe it would’ve changed after a live performance.

“Always.” You said seriously. “It reminds me of us.”

“Fuck, y’my heart Y/N y’really are.” He whined at your words and you at his. Both of you were such sops for each other that it sickened everyone else.

“So proud of you.” You nodded your head and he smiled at you, resting his sweaty forehead upon your clean one.

“Love you so much, Y/N.” He reminded you, kissing you again to prove it.

“Love you forever, H.”

“Should hope so with that ring.” He laughed, bringing up your left hand to kiss your ring finger. You’d never felt so at home than right this moment.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #finelinevogue #harry styles fanfiction #finelinevogue harry styles #harry blurb #harry oneshot #harry styles concept #ask finelinevogue #finelinevogue blurbs #hslot concept night #hslot #harry styles love on tour #anon response

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nat-seal-well · 3 years ago

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Can we get hcs for the damn polycule(including Gavin) going to the freelancers art gallery showing? Like the freelancer is a popular artist and they have a public art gallery of their paintings. If that’s too many people you could just do Huxley or Gavin

I’m sorry this took so long!

All of them dress up for this, you can’t convince me otherwise

They have no clue how art galleries work, but people always dress up a bit in the movies, so… that’s what you do, right?

Please help them, because you know all four boys combined have like half a brain cell altogether when it comes to certain things

Lasko’s used to dressing at least business casual bc work so he’s the most comfortable. And Gavin’s used to it too, he knows how to clean up nice. But I feel like the other two would be hopeless

They still try though! They want to look nice for Freelancer

Damien ends up with his tie undone by the time they go home because he naturally runs warm all the time

Huxley doesn’t know how to tie a tie. Lasko has to help him multiple times

All four of them are so hyped. They want to see everything Freelancer’s been working on!

Honestly they’ve been psyched about it for ages

Hux and Gavin have been trying to sneak glances of the pieces Freelancer’s been painting whenever they can. Whenever they know Freelancer’s okay with it, of course. They always ask beforehand

The “sneaking” just makes things more fun

Lasko and Damien have also been dying to see, they’re just worried about being caught

All of them respect FL’s boundaries. They’re just super curious and excited

Everything they have seen so far, they’ve loved

So they can’t wait for the gallery! Now they can finally see what one of their loved ones has put ages of time and work into.

And now everyone else can see, too.

They’re all so fucking proud.

On the day of the gallery, Gavin’s not-so-subtly bragging about Freelancer

All of them are, but Gavin’s just the most bold about it. He’ll walk up to people and go on and on and Lasko probably has find him and drag him away

“Isn’t this one beautiful? One of my partners painted this. They’re even more beautiful, can you believe it—”

“Gavin stop, you’re going to embarrass them”

Damien and Lasko probably stick closest to Freelancer most of the night. They’re both less sure of social situations like this and they also want to be there for them if they’re nervous or anxious.

Gavin and Huxley are the ones who kinda wander around and talk to people.

All four of them love meeting Freelancer’s fans. They consider themselves fans too, obviously

They all know Freelancer’s work is stunning. But they love hearing how other people interpret their stuff, or the way it makes them feel, or the things that stand out of them the most. It’s different hearing things from a stranger’s perspective, someone who doesn’t know Freelancer as well and intimately as they do. They love it

Each of them does a complete walk-through at least once because they want to see every painting. Freelancer goes with them the first time and talks about what they were thinking when they were working on them.

If there are any pieces that were inspired by the boys, said boy is going to get all teary-eyed and emotional

(Even Damien, no matter what he says)

Galleries sell art sometimes, right? I’m not an artist but I’m pretty sure that that happens sometimes—

So, going with that, when someone decides to buy a painting, Freelancer is getting a spine-breaking hug from Huxley. RIP Freelancer’s bones

They won’t need to see a chiropractor for like at least a decade afterwards

There’s going to be a celebration dinner, Freelancer’s choice. The polycule isn’t taking no for an answer. It can be somewhere nice, or just a chill night spent at home with each other

All four of them are just so proud of their partner, and they love Freelancer so much. They deserve to be celebrated

Bonus: Caelum was at the gallery the entire time. He kept himself unseen from Freelancer and the elementals, though, and just found a corner to hang out in. Gavin saw him, but didn’t say anything. Caelum was grinning the entire time, because hey! That’s his best friend! Their paintings are the best

This was a little shorter than I was aiming for but I hope you like it anyway I’m sorry T-T

#redacted asmr #redacted damn polycule #redacted hcs #redacted freelancer #redacted gavin #redacted huxley #redacted lasko #redacted damien #redacted caelum #this was a lot of fun to write though thank you #I’m sorry I don’t know how art galleries work—

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what-plant-metaphor-am-i · 2 years ago

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2022 Creators Self-Love Extravaganza!

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 favorite works (fics, art, edits, etc.) you’ve created this year and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you’ve brought into the world in 2022. If you don’t have five published works, that’s fine! Include ideas/drafts/whatever you like that you’ve worked on/thought about, and talk a little about them instead! Remember, this is all about self-love and positive enthusiasm, so fuck the rules if you need to. Have fun, and tag as many fellow creators as you like so they can share the love!

Considering myself tagged by @onedivinemisfit ;) thanks!! Similarly, if anyone wants to do this and hasn't been tagged yet, I tag you! <3

Hug Lessons

I was so pleased to finally get this drawn on paper after it had lived in my head for so long :) Still makes me laugh to imagine this interaction between them...

2. Drinks and Hijinks

Gosh this took me SO LONG to finish! I'm proud of the work I put into it and the overall finished piece, especially considering how I find clothes and poses verrry difficult to draw :') I like seeing the whole gang together, and it was my first time properly drawing Zen!

3. Soirée Away

A fic that I had a great time writing! I got pretty immersed in the scenes and was happy with the outcome~ Dramatic Eisetsu was super fun to write :D

4. Chat Noir Obi

Like I said before poses and clothes are tricky for me, and this is a full-body pose, in other words, a moment of triumph. I have a whole list of ML au notes that I might build on one day, and if it gets me improving full body poses and clothes then it certainly is miraculous, ahaha

5. Concern...

A smally but a goody! I really like her expression and the detail I got into her hair and collar :) Also: Bun Shirayuki!!

Some honourable mentions:

Pillow Talk Part 2 (finally completed it omg)

The Sassassins

Blanket Obi being a Mood

#akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #shirayuki #obi #kiki #zen #mitsuhide #obiyuki #2022 creators self-love extravaganza #Looking back through my art tag I realised I did quite a few drawings in 2022! Will aim to do more this year!#myart

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sondepoch · 5 years ago

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HC: They see MC’s sketchbook!

Art. It’s a private thing. Showing someone your work is akin to showing them a piece of your soul, an insight into who you are and everything that lies within. So when the Obey Me! boys get a glimpse of your sketchbook, they find themselves wanting for more—and all in different ways.

Word Count: 6.0k

*Mild NSFW themes for Asmo & Diavolo

Characters: All Brothers + All Undateables + Luke

MASTERLIST

Lucifer

At the beginning of the year, there is 0 trust between the two of you

Not only has he actively tried to kill you, but he’s already so suspicious of the pacts you’re making with his brothers that he can’t help but be wary every time you cross paths

So when he realizes that you’re always absentmindedly scribbling in a notepad every time you interact, he’s more than a little perturbed by it

100% thinks you’re secretly taking notes on his and his brothers’ behavior to use it against them

So, obviously, when he next sees you using it in his presence, he wastes no time in snatching the notebook from your hands

“Oh hey, Lucif—what are you doing?!”

“Nothing you should be concerned with, human.”

“That’s my sketchbook you’re holding!”

“Sketchbook?”

Instantly flips it open and sure enough, inside there’s nothing but doodles and sketches

luci.is.confuzzled.exe

He’s still convinced that there must be something incriminating in the book, so he continues flipping through it. But the more he sees, the more he realizes how wrong he is

It’s only when he flips to the section with his family that he begins to feel guilty

In the beginning, you just draw basic poses. Mammon, glancing at you over his shoulder. Asmo, posing for a camera. Beel, about to bite down on a hamburger.

But the further he goes, the more elaborate the sketches get, and as he flips through the pages, he can feel the amount of work that has gone into each piece

And then he gets to the page where you drew him

Keep it lowkey, but he thinks his heart stopped for a second

He stares at the picture and wonders if that’s what you see every time he shifts into his demon form, because for the first time since his fall, he can’t help but think about how beautiful he looks. Everything looks so right in your art style, from the diamond on his forehead to the way his wings flutter out of his back.

It’s perfection

“I’m confiscating this,” He says quickly, not looking you in the eye.

He then escapes the room faster than you’ve ever seen, and never speaks of the incident again to you

But roughly a week later, you find a small red book on your pillow, and you know that it's a sketchbook from him, to replace the one he took

And even later—after the two of you grow close—you find your old sketchbook stored in his most secure drawer, locked away with a key he keeps hidden. And you know that he’s spent hours looking through the book on rough nights, through the doodles of him and his brothers and everything else you’ve ever drawn

And though he’s too proud to admit it, you know he loves your art

Mammon

He found it when he was going through your stuff, absentmindedly checking to see if you had any valuables on you

And the moment he flipped open to see your little notebook of doodles, his mind went B I N G O

He loves your art the second he sees it, spending a whole hour just sitting on your bedroom floor, flipping through the pages

Adores everything about your art style

And when he starts to see the little doodles you do of his brothers, he’s even more enraptured

You draw all the things he’s imagined but never seen: a sketch of Lucifer dressed in a onesie, snuggling a giant teddy bear. Beel, using a sleeping Belphie as a food tray for a pile of snacks as large as the sixth-born himself. Asmo with cat ears, being chased by Solomon, who appears to be a wolf.

And yet, there are no pictures of Mammon

Man is hurt by the fact that you’ve drawn all his brothers but not him. He’s your first man, after all. You should have been the first person he drew!

Gets a bit upset about it and throws your sketchbook back into the drawer he found it in, stomping back to his room with childlike indignation

Is just a bit petty about it afterward

“Hey, Mammon, can you walk me to school? Class starts in half an hour.”

“Huh? Oh, so now ya want me to do it, huh? Well, why don’t you ask Asmo instead?”

“Okay? I will???”

Soon everyone in the house has realized that Mammon’s being a bit off, and while it was nice at first to have peace and quiet from the resident troublemaker, you guys grow concerned pretty quick

And eventually, you go to his room to talk things out

Let’s just say that when you found out he’d been going through your stuff, you were not pleased. But seeing that he wasn’t going to be the mature one, you sucked it up and whacked the demon on the back of his head, telling him to “wait a second” while you went to “get something”

Cue the retrieval of your second sketchbook

And when Mammon sees it, he’s not sure what he feels more of: guilt or happiness

Every single page in this second notebook is of him. Only a few are colored, but Mammon finds himself enraptured by even the casual doodles in the corners, where he’s doing little things like eating a banana or flashing the viewer a few Grimm

Man is touched. He’s never had anyone do this for him, and certainly not out of their own volition. So suffice it to say that when he tackled you for a hug that night, he didn’t let you go for a long time

And maybe some other stuff happened too. Who knows? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Leviathan

TSL

The second Levi sees you sketching in your artbook (after an incoherent stumble of words which you assume are synonymous with praise), the only phrase coming out of this man’s mouth is TSL

Begins begging you to draw fanart of the Shadow Lord, asking you to sketch him in different outfits, draw him in different poses, put him in various backgrounds, etc.

Basically wants you to bring his imagination to life

“Oh! Oh! Can you draw him baking a cake now? Wouldn’t that be so cool?!”

Absolutely does the wwooooooOOOOOAAAHAHHHHHHH sound effect every single time you show him your work, even if you’ve only made minor changes from the last time you showed him

He takes you on a spending spree, pulling up Akuzon and offering to pay for whatever supplies you want if you’ll just make him a super fancy poster

And so you start

It actually gets to be a pretty good way to grow closer: every day, after school, you head up to Levi’s room to work on the poster he asked you to make him. In exchange, he lets you borrow his manga and you guys watch anime together

Eventually, boi gets the idea of throwing Ruri-chan into the poster, and the second he thinks it he won’t shut up about it

“Oh, come on! You can do it—look, just put her in this little corner right here!”

“How many times do I have to tell you, Levi?! Ruri-chan and the Shadow Lord are two completely different characters who are meant to be drawn in completely different art styles! If I mush Ruri-chan into the corner, it’ll ruin the poster’s dynamic!”

“But pleeeeeaaaassseeeee?”

Cue extra pouty Levi

Eventually, you agree to make a separate drawing of Ruri-chan for Levi to hang up next to the poster, because you think that otherwise, he’ll go crazy

When the date rolls around where you’re almost done with everything, Levi formally sends out an invitation to everyone of importance

Man invites everyone from Luke to Diavolo over for the “revealing ceremony” where he plans to hang the poster on his wall

Actually tried to get the demon king to come as well, but Lucifer stopped him before he could get an invitation out

When everyone sees what you’ve been working on for so many weeks, they’re all MEGA impressed because hello??? they did not know you were this skilled???

It quickly turns into a competition, with each one of them trying to outdo each other with how vigorously they can compliment you

And soon enough you find yourself swamped with requests from every other demon in the room, begging you to make them something as elaborate as you did Levi

Satan

It’s a system you guys have set up, where every Tuesday and Thursday night, you’ll sit in the common room on the couch facing each other and will simply open your books to do what you will

You always draw, and Satan always reads

And neither will bother the other until the grandfather clock chimes twelve times, whereupon you both bid each other goodnight and wait for the next session where you do it all over

Except for today, that is

“What are you drawing?”

Ah, there it is

The one question you were hoping Satan would never ask

You subtly (incredibly awkwardly) change the subject, commenting on the color of Satan’s jacket to distract him from his inquiry, and he picks up on the hint, quietly huffing as he turns back to his book

But the mild irritation he feels doesn’t let him fully delve back into the realm of the nonfiction novel he was reading, so he’s more than a little distracted as he goes back to reading about human anthropology

And it’s in this state of distraction that he notices the little glances you’re stealing every so often, before returning to your sketchpad

Yeah, it doesn’t take long for Satan to put two and two together

“Are you drawing me?”

An incredulous question, asked in such an offending tone

He sounds so irate by the fact that you can’t help but helplessly deny it, muttering something about drawing plants and flowers instead

But Satan doesn’t believe it, and in an instant he’s standing behind you, staring at the sketch in your hands which has oh-so-beautifully captured the essence of him on the couch, engrossed in a book with the light from the flames in the fireplace flickering gently against his skin

The anger at being drawn without having agreed to it quickly melts into a quiet awe for your skill

“Can I see your other drawings?” He asks gently, no longer irritated but actually impressed

“I-I’m not sure if you’ll want to—”

“Nonsense. Show me.”

And so you do

You hand him the sketchbook, avoiding his eyes as he flips to the very first page—and imagine his surprise when he sees that even that is a sketch of his face, though the artwork is significantly less advanced than the piece he just saw. Satan flips to the next page, and then the next, and the next, and sure enough: they’re all of him

“I-I just needed a model to practice my artwork on,” You mumble, gaze fixated on the couch. “And you were right there, so I couldn’t resist...and then I needed a model again. And again. And you were always there, and I know I never asked, but I’m sorry, and if you don’t want me to, I won’t—“

“Nonsense,” Satan murmurs, pressing a finger to your lips. His smile has never looked as sincere as it looks now, his gaze flickering back and forth between your face and the sketchbook in his hands

“I’ll be your model, if you so desire it. Just tell me how you want me to sit.”

Asmodeus

Your model for everything

You’re trying to draw the Hulk and you a good frame of reference? And you need a really muscular model? And Beel ABSOLUTELY fits the bill?

Yeah no, Asmo’s your model

You want to draw a child? Someone small and short, roughly the exact same height as Luke (who is an ANGEL and would absolutely help you)? Yeah no, Asmo’s still going to be your model.

Want a cute guy? Asmo. Cute girl? Asmo. Cute animal? Still Asmo.

Man refuses to leave you alone - the second he learns that you’re an artist he insists on gracing your work with the holy sight of his body

Highkey wants to model nude

And you’d be lying if you said that he was a bad model—man can hold a pose for hours without moving even a little, his only fault is that he talks incessantly—but you can easily quiet him by saying that you’re drawing his lips - and the moment you do so, he’s suddenly he’s stiller than a statue, doing his absolute best to remain frozen so that you can capture his perfection

Boi posts 100% of your content on his Devilgram, and while you were hesitant about it at first, now you’re just used to it

Thanks to him, you’re a lowkey celebrity

Like demons love your art style

It’s apparently very refreshing and human-like as compared to the dark and dreary art found in the Devildom, so people go wild over Asmo’s Devilgram page for it

Man thinks that they’d go even more wild if you drew something where he modeled nude

In fact, it’s lowkey a business deal that the two of you have - you allow Asmo to post your work on his Devilgram (giving credit to you, of course), and in exchange he pays for all your art supplies, acts as your model (though that’s really more of him wanting to than it being your choice), and even goes as far as to keep Mammon apart from you while you work, insisting that you need “privacy” and “quiet” while you draw

100% acts like he isn’t even more chatty than Mammon when given the chance

On the bright side, it’s thanks to these weekly art sessions where you draw and Asmo models and talks that you’re always up to date on the latest gossip. You’re 100% caught up with the fact that Zahhak just found out he has another illegitimate son and that Baphomet just liked Rusalka’s post from fourteen centuries ago

So yeah, the two of you have a mutually beneficial relationship

Asmodeus still insists that one thing would make it better though: him modeling nude

But Asmo is a sweetheart about everything, and he goes out of his way to pamper you

Specifically, your hands—after all, those are what work your artistic magic!

Expect him to always be peppering your dominant hand with kisses, massaging it whenever you look tired, giving you weekly manicures completely free of charge, all out of the goodness of Asmo’s heart

*ahem* and weekly requests to model nude

Beelzebub

a m a z e m e n t

Boi is entranced

Like, he’s so mesmerized by your art that he’s not even paying attention to the food sitting right in front of him, simply opting to stare more intently at the drawing you’re holding up so eagerly

It’s quite beautiful, really: The seven demon brothers surrounding you, a reworking of a photograph Lucifer took a few months ago but in your art style. And for that last fact, Beel thinks he likes this version better

“Wow,” He finally manages to say, still too impressed to really think of anything else

He lets his brothers shower you in praise and compliments, silently nodding along and agreeing with every plaudit they thrust your way

But the moment you’re alone, expect to be scooped into his arms and carried to his room

Boi instantly wants to know the process

When do you draw? How long does it take? Where do you do it? How are you getting your supplies? Who pays?

It’s not so much the physical process he’s interested in, but rather the nuances of art that make your work look so you. He’s not interested in learning for the sake of doing, but simply for the sake of understanding because he already appreciates your art so much

Absolutely invites you to his room to have you show him the art process the next time you start working on a piece

And after the first time, then, he invites you back a second - then a third - and then the two of you have settled into a routine where after school, you come to his room and pencil away in your sketchpad, with Beel watching in the background, munching on snacks

It’s quite relaxing for him, actually

He likes watching as you bring a piece together, going over previously flat areas with a second layer of shading to make certain elements pop—and even if he doesn’t completely understand what you’re doing, he’s entirely willing to learn, listening peacefully as you explain what the various tools do

By the end of the month, man has actually memorized all the names of your supplies, handing them to you every time you ask for it - be it something as simple as a request for an eraser or just the blending stump

Lowkey, your work has actually improved since you began working up in Beel’s room

Not only does he have the most comfortable setup, but the man pampers you like royalty, always making sure that there’s water or food for you in case you need something

(And if you do happen to require something that isn’t already in Beel’s room, man will 100% get it for you so that you don’t have to stop what you’re doing)

Honestly, it’s the perfect arrangement: he gives you the ideal working space and you give him hours upon hours of intrigue

And if you happen to begin sitting in his lap one day while you work, something which quickly turns into a pattern, who’s there to stop anything? ;)

Belphegor

Man naps

A lot

And you just happen to be his favorite pillow, so it’s hardly a surprise when all your free time is spent in the presence of a dozing Belphie, always passed out over your legs

So once, just once, you pull your sketchpad out from under your pillow and work on it, a cautious eye trained on the seventh-born’s every move in case he stirs

And when that first time goes smoothly, you pull your sketchpad out a second time

Then a third

Then a fourth - and suddenly, you’re caught in a pattern

It was really just a matter of time until Belphie woke up one day and you didn’t notice

And it’s already too late when the drowsy demon lifts his head, peering curiously onto your lap to see what you’re working on—much to your horror

“Y-you’re awake,” You mutter halfheartedly, a sick feeling settling in your stomach as you watch the demon’s expression shift as he studies your artwork

You hate it

A bubble of anxiety begins to rise, fear over whether he will like your work or call it bad, whether he’ll make fun of your work or tell the brothers, whether he’ll be kind about it or mean

But then, much to your surprise, he flops back onto your lap, utterly unphased

“Nice,” The demon comments casually, stretching as he rests his head along your thigh. “It’s pretty.”

You can only blink as he falls back asleep, utterly confused as to what just happened

He woke up, right? And he saw your art? And he complimented it, telling you that he thought it was nice and pretty?

A sound of disbelief escapes your mouth as you try to process the utter nonchalance with which the whole exchange had concluded with, your shock only interrupted by the light sound of Belphie, who’s already snoring

You groan

But now that Belphie has seen your work, it’s not like there’s much point in hiding it any longer, right?

You pull your sketchbook out, silently continuing to work on the design that the man napping on your lap had said to be “nice,” adding some finishing touches to it

And when Belphie wakes up, he speaks nothing of the entire exchange

From that point and onward, you become a little more comfortable around him, relieved that you don’t need to talk about it with him

And he gets it

For all your free time, while he naps, you draw, and the two of you find a comfortable form of peace together, an odd tranquility lurking in the fact that there are no questions, no answers, just you and him, the sound of scribbling and snoring, your sketchpad and his pillow

And really, who needs anything else?

Solomon

He’s probably the first one to realize, on his own, that you’re an artist

The two of you have nearly all your classes together, thanks to Lord Diavolo, so it’s hardly surprising when the ever-astute sorcerer picks up on the fact that every time he casts you a second glance, you’re working on some mysterious sketch underneath your desk

Doesn’t really care at first

Until he sees your work

Man actually stops when he picks your sketchbook up off the ground, inspecting the page it had flipped open to after you dropped it

“Holy shit”

Doesn’t even ask for permission, he just begins browsing through the sketchbook, growing more and more impressed with each new page he sees

You only snatch the book back from his hands when you realize that the sketch he’s staring at so intently is one you drew of him, thanking him for picking it up with a huff and awkwardly trying to remove yourself from the situation as fast as humanly (heh, yes that is a pun) possible

Wizard boy stops you, ofc

“Come with me”

“But I have class soon—"

Again, doesn’t even wait for your agreement, man just drags you by the forearm to the library and flips open a book, throws down his own notebook, and demands that you use your “art skills or whatever” to help him

Sigh

Precious wizard boy isn’t very good with words when he’s all worked up

It takes you a good 5 minutes to understand that he wants you to compare the summoning circle outlined on the book with the one he sketched to identify where he went wrong, because apparently you have an “artist’s eye” and therefore you should be able to assist him - and he refuses to believe you when you try to convince him that no, this is not your strong suit and you will likely be unable to help him

He gets whinier than Asmo (probably where he gets it from) and will not stop nagging you even as you try to leave, so eventually you just give in and agree to try to help him - and it wounds up being surprisingly easy for you to realize that he missed the secondary outline of the inner circle, among another few minor mistakes

Huh, maybe you are naturally inclined toward this

From that moment and onward, Solomon decides that you are officially valuable (not only do you have magical potential, but you have an eye for summoning circles too? how UNFAIR) and begins spending all his time with you

Doesn’t really care about the fact that you’re an artist at first—is really more interested in how your skills can be applied

But then one day, after a particularly rough night of going through twelve whole summoning circles for twelve powerful demons, he takes a nap and wakes up to find you passed out on the floor, sleeping on top of your sketchbook where you fell asleep doodling him

Highkey touched

And slowly, he begins casually “falling asleep” around you more often, to see and flip through more of your artwork when he wakes up

Sigh

Bby is fucking shady even when he does wholesome shit

Simeon

Okay let’s be real

There’s no peace with the seven demon brothers. Solomon is chaotic. Luke, as much as we love him, is just a lot to be around. And even with Barbatos next to him, Diavolo is a walking tornado that tends to wreak havoc whenever he wills it (and he usually wills it).

So honestly, being with Simeon is the only place of tranquility you can find in the entire Devildom

Specifically, his room

*Which is off-limits to all the aforementioned individuals

He extended the invitation for you to spend some “relaxation time” in his quarters whenever you pleased at the beginning of the year, his angelic heart already sensing the absolute whirlwind of disaster you were walking into when you joined RAD

And while you declined his offer immediately out of politeness, you found yourself sheepishly knocking on his door not one week into the program

And now it’s become an every-day sort of thing

So yeah

Simeon knows about your art

In fact, you can’t seem to draw unless you’re in his presence, because at this point, he naturally soothes you so much that your hand is only steady when you hear the sound of his calm breathing in the background

In fact, you work best when the two of you are spread out on his couch, your back resting comfortably on Simeon’s shoulder while he writes (yes, he manually writes all his books on pen and paper) and you put your legs up on the couch, sketching away in your notebook

It’s the very image of peace, something you can’t seem to find anywhere else in this realm

And Simeon, bless his heart, may be a master of calligraphy, but the precious angel cannot draw to save his life - a fact which you have taken it upon yourself to handle

See, the angel gets tired every now and then—understandable, given that he produces literal masterpieces at his hands

And so when he gets tired, what does he do?

Make incomprehensible doodles in the upper left corners of his papers

So, of course, you’ve taken it upon yourself to bring those doodles to life (even if it requires a half-hour of inspection before you can make out what the sketch was supposed to be) and Simeon loves it

The expression of eagerness that surfaces every time you inform him that you’ve finished a piece is so rewarding, because the childlike glee with which he takes the paper from your hands to inspect it always sends a rush of warmth to your heart as he gushes in appreciation

But uh

Simeon is a special kind of chaotic, something that manifests every time he doodles something on paper

You stare at the angel in disbelief as he informs you that his latest doodle (what appears to be a banana-looking creature in sunglasses?) was actually a monkey ironing clothes—unsure what to say in light of this information

But it’s okay :) There only needs to be one artist in this relationship, and it clearly isn’t him

Luke

It started with cake

He needed “inspiration” to make something for Barbatos, as a thank-you gift for the pastry lessons the elder gave him, but Luke claimed that everything he made, while it tasted fine, lacked in the aesthetic department

And while normally you would play it Simeon-style, leaving it to the younger angel to handle things on his own so that he can grow individually, you felt too bad watching him discard another batch of cupcakes into Beel’s mouth, rubbing his head in aggravation over how annoying it was that nothing was looking right

So you helped him out

It was nothing major, really

Just eight doodles—subtle yet elegant designs for a triple-tiered cake, childish and bouncy arrangements to store flan, little details in frosting to give cupcakes the added element of specialty that makes them infinitely better

But the second Luke saw your paper, he went wild

Boi was running to the kitchen so fast he barely even had the time to shout “thank you”

Apparently, your little sketches sparked inspiration in him so strongly that the flames burned til midnight (much to Simeon’s disapproval), but when Luke was finally done with everything, he walked out of the kitchen with a tray of desserts that looked so perfect it was hard to imagine that he brought them to life from your sketches

Luke spent ages thanking you, shoving desserts down your throat even when you insisted that you were full, so unimaginably grateful that you helped him out of what he called “chef’s block”

Each “thank you” was accompanied either a brownie or a slice of mango mousse or whatever new pastry Luke was creating that day, and before long you were getting to enjoy luxury foods on the daily (much to Beel’s jealousy)

Boy only believed that the debt was paid when you told him that there was no debt to pay, that you sketched those quick little doodles for him out of kindness and not obligation

Believe it or not, Luke’s eyes actually welled with tears for a second at that, before he wrapped you up in a giant (is it really giant if the hugger is so little?) hug, wailing something about you being too “pure” and “perfect” for the Devildom, and that one day you would be very happy in the Celestial Realm

You pat his head, telling him that if it truly made him this happy, you would be glad to help him out again and sketch some food doodles whenever he wanted some new ideas

Cue another round of hugs, muffled crying, and sobs about how amazing you are

Barbatos

Barbatos knew, of course

Not because he used his powers or anything, he would hardly use them for something so trivial, but he was aware from the start that you were an artist because it was he who prepared for your arrival in the Devildom, ensuring that you had all the same amenities and comforts you were used to in the human realm

And, as such, that included art supplies

So the very moment he set his eyes on you, he was aware that you were an artist

What he didn’t expect was for you to actually be good at it

He sees your sketchbook when he’s casually strolling through the RAD library, finding you completely knocked out on one of the tables, the spiral binding of the sketchpad still digging indents into your cheek where you lie on top of it

At first, the butler rearranges your position as a courtesy

He lifts your head and rests it on your hand - which makes a much softer pillow - coincidentally placing your books back inside your bag and taking a moment to organize the papers strewn across the desk

But then he just happens to glance inside

And the second he does, he’s mesmerized

There’s not much in the world that can surprise Barbatos - not after he’s looked after Diavolo, of all people, for so many millennia - but the butler still finds himself holding his breath as he flips through your sketchpad, each piece telling a story so evocative that it leaves him wanting more even when he arrives at a blank page, abruptly realizing that he’s just gone through your entire sketchbook without your permission

Of course, you just have to wake up at that precise moment - sleepy eyes glancing up at the butler and wondering if you’re hallucinating, but the book in his hands is far too real and the shocked expression on his face is impossibly jarring and you flinch, suddenly feeling self-conscious as you realize what must have happened

Barbatos is a perfect gentleman about it, kindly telling you to get more rest so that you don’t pass out in a public library surrounded by demons who want to eat your soul, but he ends the sharp warning with a rather kind remark about your artwork

“I liked the second-last piece best,” He murmurs, casting you a cryptic smile before bidding you farewell

And obviously, the moment he’s out of sight, your nose is buried in your sketchbook, fingers flipping furiously to find the second-last piece you drew which you cannot seem to remember at all, and—

A flush immediately erupts on your cheeks as you see the colored sketch, something inspired by nothing more than a whim

It’s simply two people on a walk—both of them vague imitations of what your mind had wistfully conjured up—one of them bearing the telltale mismatched hair and olive green eyes, the other sharing a quiet resemblance to yourself - a conscious decision, of course

But just as you’re about to flip off the page, another detail you’d forgotten about draws your attention—and your cheeks suddenly burn in embarrassment as you realize why Barbatos singled this piece out

The figures are smiling, gazing at each other from the corners of their eyes. And there, in the very center of the piece, it is obvious:

They are holding hands

Diavolo

RIP to Diavolo’s royal painter

They have been replaced

By you

As much as you fought it, as much as you argued that you were not fitting of this position, as much as you pleaded with the demon lord to not force this title upon your shoulders, Diavolo’s decision to appoint you as the honorary Devildom painter was final—and nothing can change his mind once it’s made up

The title is really just that: a title. Diavolo knows that you’re a busy student, and while he honored your artistic talents with this position, he’s not about to actually force you through the expected proceedings of a true royal painter, not while you’re trying to survive being an exchange student in hell with an entirely unfamiliar curriculum in front of you

But on occasion, he’ll send you a text, asking if you’re free

And you’ll head on over to his palace, ready to paint him

And unlike every other demon, angel, and human in the Devildom, when Diavolo models for you, he actually models nude

Asmo is jealous

Sexual tension is high when you paint him, let’s just leave things at that

And honestly, it really doesn’t matter what you paint - Diavolo seems to be more interested in the fact that it’s a human who did the art in the first place

He once saw your RAD binder, noticing the little doodles you’d drawn on the corner of all your papers, and he immediately took them—declaring that they were art to be preserved for all eternity for historical documentation purposes

So yeah

There’s a hall in Diavolo’s palace filled with your RAD math homework, an eternal reminder of the assignments you copied off of Solomon

(You’re not sure what’s more embarrassing: the fact that you’ve drawn some rather inappropriate doodles on those pages or the fact that, despite having copied all the answers, you still managed to get nearly one-third of the problems wrong, and now your mistakes are to be showcased in the Devildom for centuries to come)

It gets to the point where you and Solomon start making bets over how basic you can get with your art for Diavolo to still consider it “amazing” and “utterly awe-inspiring,” as he likes to put it

In honor of that bet, there is currently a banana peel with a few marker doodles on it hanging in a preserved case in an iced room in the lowest levels of the palace, as none of the “art” can be wasted

But in truth, the demon lord’s fixation with human culture is endearing, especially when Diavolo tries so hard to be accepting of it

So eventually you stop giving Diavolo wacky art and actually start putting your full effort into your creations—your reward being the fact that the final piece you complete gets hung in Diavolo’s private bedroom, where he promises to gaze at it every night for the rest of eternity, vowing to remember his time with you every time he sees it

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worminstuff · 4 years ago

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Yo can we see more of Phil being a Dad™️ for y/n??(If not feel free to ignore this I just love your writing)

i saw this just before i fell asleep so i’m gonna do it now before i forget cause i love this

tbott philza headcanons

y/n an phil:)

since y/n was little phil started trying to pick up on little things he could know and remember. fav color, fav food etc.

phil loved to give her her favorite things because he decided he loved the way her face lit up and she got all excited. every. time.

when y/n was young her parents actually made an effort to drop her off at phil’s so he knew when they were gone and when she would need him, which he appreciated. he liked knowing he got to set up the spare bedroom next to technos only to have them sleep out in the treehouse.

another thing he loved, was having her on his shoulders. he loved to pick her up and set her up there whenever they were out and about. it kept her from running off or around and she loved it. it was a win win. techno and her actually got piggy back rides from this one phil thinks, they do that often recently when y/n’s tired and they’ve been walking for a while or something.

before tommy was around, he babied her like crazy. he never got a daughter and (practically) having one was super exciting for phil. he got to buy girl clothes and he always bought her art supplies. which is one reason y/n still loves art to this day, and why phil always asks her if she’s working on something.

when y/n started to get a bit older, around the pre teens is when her parents started to feel alright leaving her home alone. phil hated it. he hated knowing she was sleeping in that house all by herself with no one else around.

one year when she was ten, tommy still wasn’t born, y/n had to stay home alone overnight for the first time. she didn’t eat dinner cause she didn’t know how to use the oven so she had a piece of toast for snack and went to bed as if everything were fine.

phil on the other hand was tweakin. mans was freakin tf OUT. he was pacing and he couldn’t sit down and he was jittery as hell. once techno and wilbur fell asleep, he immediately went over to check on her and actually ended up falling asleep on the couch in her living room. he woke up to her giving him a hug.

the first time y/n got in trouble at school her parents were away (surprise) so phil was the first to get a call from the school.

he was shell shocked while listening to the phone. after he was told to please come to the school, he scooped up lil tommy and they were on there way. once in the office, he saw techno sat next to a seemingly fine y/n. why techno was there he had no idea because techno wasn’t involved from what he heard.

“she called a teacher a cunt, and then threw a book at him moments later.”

phil looked to his kids who both nodded. he snorted a laugh, “why y/n?” he tried not to laugh for the sake of the principal but he knew y/n wouldnt have done it without reason.

“he was going on about stereotypes he agreed with and we got to the woman ones.” she said. techno did a snap point thing towards her still looking at his dad.

“and the book?” he was trying so hard to hide his grin AND ignore tommy as he was making gurgle screams trying to get towards y/n like always.

“he just wouldn’t shut up.” she shrugged.

phil looked towards the principal, “am i taking them home?”

the principal told him yes, “okay call my other one down i’ll just take them all home for the day. it’s almost over anyways” he looked to y/n with a small knowing smile. he would tell her why what she did was wrong later, and he would ask techno how he managed to get there with her because they didn’t even have that class together

he was just happy she was able to hold her own. he was proud. and he was NOT gonna call her parents about this one...

#phil headcanons #tbott #sleepy bois x reader au #sleepy bois inc #sleepy bois x reader #technoblade #techno x reader #tommyinnit #wilbursoot #sleepy bois fanfic #sleepy boys inc #sleepy bois au #sleepy bois

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moonexile · 3 years ago

Text

fun tidbits about luther from s3 (+ my thoughts because i can never shut up) ✨

he color codes things!! an organized king. he’s been doing this all his life, but it became a bit more obsessive on the moon.

he makes mixtapes. not surprising, because he’s always loved music and it’s a big part of his personality -- he’s just never had reason to make one for someone else before ( it really goes hand in hand with his poetry, when you think about it; another act of love through various meanings / works of art, a way to express his feelings for people without saying it in simple words. )

he’s a romantic. he dreams of getting married, getting a dog, having a house, being part of a family. when he was a child, viktor caught him marrying his action figures, implying that dreaming of another life has always been something he did yet never allowed himself to really think about / process much. he just never thought it was for him, and that was okay for the longest time, but being without his family for years reminded him how much he actually did want one.

he took a photo of his siblings to the moon with him ( along with viktor’s book. ) when he gets deep into his depression, he eventually takes the photo down, because he’s ashamed, and he doesn’t think they’d be proud of him. viktor’s book is something he annotates over and over again each time he reads it --- which is often, because it’s the most real tie he has to his family and to him.

he also continues to make his model rockets in space, though it’s not as entertaining as it was back at home. but having one hanging up in his space station still brings him a sense of home regardless.

he has had a piece of moon rock with him ever since returning from the moon, and he was saving it for a special occasion. he never thought he’d actually find the right time to give it to anyone. it was never something he wanted to keep for himself, though.

it wasn’t a team he longed for; it was a family connection. he’s jealous of the sparrows with the assumption that they did things together as a family beyond their training --- something he didn’t ever encourage as a kid yet desperately wanted, and likely didn’t really figure out until he was older / they left home.

a hug from his father is something that he’s always desperately wanted. it’s an act of approval and of love, something he always hoped for but never really got. he believed his father was his ‘friend,’ he took pride in getting to spend time with him in his special spot in the courtyard, but he knows now that was a lie, and so much of his relationship has been soured --- even the simple moments.

he likes to go for a run to start the day. he’s always been heavily into working out. it’s not necessarily about his super strength power, but rather just a way to clear his head and to have control over his own body ( garnering his own strength rather than just having it has always been important to him; he has never been one to rely solely on his powers. )

he always wanted to go to summer camp, but his father told him he never would. it’s likely that it was space camp he wanted to attend, despite the fact that he had already gone to space when he was 13 years old. he just wanted to be around people, to make friends, but his father crushed that dream really early on --- so he stopped believing he’d ever have any.

despite he and diego being forced rivals as kids, they enjoyed “bustin’ heads” together. he and diego were always competing, but when they were fighting next to each other, luther really thrived. when they were not pit against each other and not competing, they make a really good team, and luther took a lot of pride in getting to fight with him instead of against him.

“i don’t run from a fight.” luther does not ever want to get into fights, he never wants to choose violence, but if it happens, he doesn’t back out --- mostly, because he’s fighting with his family / for his family, and he’s never going to leave them to fend for themselves without him.

their father gave them performance reviews. luther never got a 5-star rating. he told himself that his father just didn’t want him to look too good, for the sake of his siblings’ feelings, but alas... we know that’s not something he’d care about. given the way luther was treated as reginald’s most loyal pet, it’s likely that luther always got 4-stars --- a good enough review, but enough to slowly drive luther crazy because he couldn’t reach perfection, constantly frustrating him and pushing him harder each time, but never giving him the complete satisfaction. the biggest blow would be diego scoring higher, given that reginald was constantly poking at that competition.

he stress eats, he likes pineapple on his pizza ( though he’s really not picky, he will eat literally anything you put on a pizza ), and he’s the type of person who will eat off your plate ( asking politely first, of course, but ultimately confused if you decline. ) he also really likes nut butter. he is not a picky eater at all, but if he sees something he especially likes, he’ll get really excited, especially after his time on the moon when his father wasn’t sending him food.

#some of these were hinted at before but !!#hc.#if this shows up in the tags i am throwing myself into the sun #dont reblog /

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iphoenixrising · 4 years ago

Text

DickTimWeek2021 Day 2

** Day 2: Time Loop | Jealousy | Stray AU

Welp. Time to break some hearts.

They’re laughing like assholes as they climb through Timmy’s penthouse windows.

“Did you see that thug punch himself in the face?”

“That’s the right way to get out of an ass beating by the Batman.”

Tim, still in Red Robin, doesn’t even bother, just lets his knees buckle so he can slide down to the floor and laugh until tears are rolling down the dominio still plastered on his face.

He’s riding the concussion train with

(J)

Josephine and she’s not as bad as some of them are.

Dick at least tosses the gloves and gauntlets before hauling Timmy’s bruised ass up off the floor, throwing the arm around his shoulders.

“C’mon, you butt. Really Timmy, just laying here in your suit? Alfred would be appalled.”

“S’why I don’t go to the Manor much anymore.”

“Ooh, I’m telling. You’re going to be in so much trouble,” as he gets Tim down the hallway to the bathroom.

“Y-You can’t! You’re the oldest! Dami’s supposed to be the tattle-tale!”

“Nu-uh. As the oldest, I can do whatever the hell I want.”

And does he tell on Timmy? You bet your ass he does.

It’s nice when Alfred can look at someone else in the family with extreme disappointment.

Tim comes by the Manor the day Alfred video chats him, shuffles down to the Cave behind the butler and absolutely sticks his tongue out at Dick’s smarmy grin.

His apartment is a literal mess and Dick can’t be bothered to do much more than flop on the overstuffed couch with a groan.

Still in his uni from the day shift, he’s too bruised and battered and tired to even think of suiting up for the night. He’s been running himself ragged for two months, the day and night shifts blending together along with the usual bullshit of daily human life, and he desperately needs a night of terrible television, junk food, and snuggles.

Like he’d been reading the room, Timmy walks out of his bathroom, towel around his shoulder and hair just this side of damp.

“Hey, you made it home in one piece.” Tim’s long fingers in his hair literally pulls a noise out of Dick he can’t ever remember making.

“Yeah, I drove down because you looked like death warmed over when we talked last weekend. Luckily for you I went grocery shopping, did a few loads of your laundry, and cleaned up a little so you don’t have to worry about housework.”

“I love you. Have I told you that recently? Like, so, so much–” is muffled by the couch cushions, but he thinks Tim can probably still make it all out.

“Mmhm, I know,” and the gentle scratching against his scalp doesn’t stop, and Dick goes a little boneless with it. “I even brought my Roku so we can binge watch terrible television while you eat something more substantial than cereal. Alfred is going to be so proud of you.”

A pat to his head and Timmy is off, slinging his towel on the rack, turning on the shower again to make sure it’s nice and hot for all those bruises and contusions.

He’s no-nonsense about picking up his previous mentor and best friend, literally stripping him down and manhandling him in the shower after a low whistle at the span of blue/black across Dick’s chest and ribs, the scrapes across his back and shoulders.

The first aid kit tackle box makes an appearance because Tim plans for literally everything ever, and Dick finds himself sitting on his sink wearily while his injuries are meticulously treated.

He knows he eats something super tasty with meat and vegetables, his belly full, before Tim pulls him down on the couch and lets Dick lay against his chest, between his legs to sleepily float while watching God-awful B-movies.

It’s the most relaxing weekend he’s had in a while.

Dami sneers at Tim, arms crossed over his chest, the expression on his face begging Tim to try to deny it.

The third Robin however, is looking over at Dick with horror that the big secret is finally out in the open.

“Th-that isn’t– it’s not–” Tim fumbles desperately, “he’s been my big brother forever, that’s it!”

“Tt. Grayson may be painfully oblivious, Drake, but the rest of us are detectives. Even Todd knows of your feelings and he rarely even comes to the Manor!”

Tim’s soul literally leaves his body.

Dick blinks, completely taken back, mouth open without anything coming out.

Damian raises his eyes skyward and prays for patients dealing with these two. “What I am saying,” he tries, he really is trying here, “is that you two must cease and desist this pointless–” vague hand wave– “pining for one another. It is getting to the point of absurdity. I demand you two either discuss your need for one another or take this ridiculous mooning elsewhere. The rooftops of Gotham is no place for this,” another hand wave, “utter nonsense.”

Tim’s mouth goes dry, subtly backing away to be closer to the Ducati’s waiting for tonight’s ride. He’s pretty sure he has enough energy left in his shaky knees to hop on one and be the fuck out of the Cave before his face literally bursts into flames.

But, well. Dick was Batman.

His strategic retreat is stomped into the ground by acrobatic leaps and a very well done joint lock to keep him from immediately taking off.

Dami scoffs at them on his way up the winding staircase. He stops Pennyworth on the way and turns the butler to return back into the Manor proper, citing those two needed time to figure themselves out.

After several weeks under deep cover, Nightwing wearily hacks into Titan’s Tower and makes his way through the maze of hallways until he hits a hidden panel.

Tim is sleeping on his desk, only one empty coffee mug at his workstation. Even dead in his boots, Nightwing can take a second just to look, just to sigh, just to enjoy how much every inch of this boy is his.

He journeys down the hall, flips the bed covers up, carries his sleeping partner in and tucks the blankets around him, a quickly there kiss to the top of messy, too-long hair. A shower in Tim’s perch literally makes everything in life a little less awful and exhausting, not enough for him to do much more than crawl in bed against Tim’s warm body and snuggle up close.

He gets breakfast in bed and blue-violet eyes looking at him with fondness rather than awe, gets coffee flavored kisses and a slow-paced back rub that continues down to his thighs and calves and feet. Later, he gets a date night in a nice restaurant and a sweet San Fran club scene for dessert. He gets to let loose and hold Tim’s body against him, to play them both until the gazes are intense and the low key UST between them makes other people on the dance floor give them space.

Witty banter is a primary weapon against megalomaniacal bad guys of any flavor. For some former Robins, it’s an art form.

Over the years, they’ve cultivated their dip and distraction to bounce off one another like a well-oiled vigilante machine.

It should have been a standard take-down because it’s not one of their more dangerous, deadly villains. It’s not one of the Rogue Gallery baddies. It’s not one of the mobster families, not one of the super powered groups come to call. It’s not someone with hordes of thugs and deadly science waiting to take them down.

It’s a simple B&E, just Nightwing talking it up to draw gunfire while Red Robin is creeping up from behind to get the last laugh.

It’s one of a thousand times they’ve done this.

It’s a guaranteed win.

It’s the last hour of patrol before they get to go back to Red’s penthouse and snuggle together, eat and show, probably have some fantastic sex before passing out.

The .45 shell, however, cuts through the suit, between armored plates.

Going after the running baddies is automatic, taking them down, zip ties, and viola. They’re ready for GCPD to pick-up, all kinds of gift-wrapped.

When N finally realizes Red isn’t with him, isn’t answering comms, isn’t waiting for him on the roof, he goes back inside. He hits up B for a ride in the big car in case he missed –

– anything.

The pool of blood around Red Robin is more than he can afford to lose, and Nightwing has been in the vigilante life for over twenty years, has been official with Red Robin for a little over two, has personal experience on how his Baby Bird can take a mostly-fatal beating and still keep moving. He’s seen Tim come close with the Clench, with horrifying injuries, with any of the many bad guys they fight holding him hostage.

Nightwing has seen him perform literal miracles.

And tells him so the entire time he’s got Red Robin up in his arms, carrying him through Gotham’s skyline to the waiting car, falling in with Red on his lap when the familiar hatch slides back, the tourniquet already applied before he even shot a grapple. The struggling pulse is enough of a concern to get it together.

And even if they all gather to strip off the suit, and now it’s on to get vitals back to an acceptable range. Even if the Bats cry overhead, even if the equipment is top notch in the Cave, even if Dick is still talking the whole time, and Alfred is keeping a cool head and Bruce is gripping a hand and Damian is standing at the ready to hand implements and Cass is biting her thumbnail while she hovers and Steph is moving from empty space to empty space around the gurney –

The consistent beep of the flatline cuts through it all.

The Titans make it for the service.

Each of them make a point to hug Dick for as long as possible, holding on tightly.

Bruce is silent and stoic, a little boy again when he has to watch someone else he loves being lowered into the cold, unforgiving ground. Another Robin taking a piece of his heart to the afterlife.

Steph is red-eyed, a ghost moving around to individual circles, listening to stories she might not have known.

Cass grips the coffin with bruised knuckles, her whole body wound tight as a string ready to snap. She doesn’t move the entire service, is already convinced leaving him to his own devices caused this whole thing. She doesn’t blame the thugs or Dick or Bruce. She blames the boy that never understood how much it all means.

Duke Thomas is back in Gotham, taking leave from the Outsiders to be here for the family that took him in after the Joker drove his parents insane. He hovers in the doorway to welcome mourners, direct them toward the book to sign-in, talks about Tim Drake with regular humans and other metas in disguise, accepts condolences with his throat tight and his eyes watery. He makes sure Dick has a bottle of water after the first hour, pats Damian’s shoulder, grips Bruce’s arm, weaves an arm around Cassandra’s back to give her a squeeze, obediently looks at the old pictures of Tim on Steph’s photo roll when she’s overcome and has to see that smile again.

In the back, Jason Todd wears dark shades and a clean black suit. Roy Harper is beside him, a hand on the broad back to keep him grounded, to keep the Pit rage at bay. If anyone knows how far Tim and Jason had come over the years, it’s the former Red Arrow. If anyone knows how much agony Jason is in at this moment, at another fallen brother, another Robin gone, if anyone had held the Red Hood while he screamed and cried and broke the utter fuck down, it’s Roy Harper.

Damian Wayne hovers right by Grayson’s side, silently supporting his first Batman, his first brother. Whenever Dick’s eyes start going hazy, glazing over, Damian gently grips a wrist to bring him back, allows fingers to lace through his own and tolerates the tight squeeze that obviously assists in grounding the oldest Robin.

(Later when the night is crowding grief-stricken Wayne Manor, Damian will be the one to open Grayson’s bedroom door, lift the covers to crawl in behind him, to wind both arms tightly. He will be the one to take the onslaught of grief, to be soaked in tears and snot, to listen to the broken, hoarse voice, to make soothing hums that ultimately mean nothing.)

Alfred Pennyworth quietly talks with the funeral director about the arrangements. Of course Master Timothy would want to be laid to rest with his parents, and the family appreciates all the support and ease of process as the deceased was an important part of the Wayne family.

When he gets a phone call, he firmly verifies the name on the tombstone is Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne Grayson.

Exactly four days after the service, the Flash is staring at him helplessly, gripping Nightwing’s arm tight, “please, please, Dick, don’t do this. You can’t think this is the answer!”

He can barely hear Wally with the absolute destruction going on around them, the machine they’d inadvertently stumbled upon (which is a lie, Nightwing had been looking for it and the Flash basically caught him red handed).

“You know you aren’t going to be able to stop me.” Standing between the glowing portal and Wally, debris from overhead crashing down on them at intervals, Nightwing is at his peak stubborn, “no matter how fast you are.”

“You don’t understand what’s going to happen,” Wally yells desperately as the vacuum starts pulling at Nightwing’s other arm, pulling him into–

–the Speed Force.

“You don’t have the lightning, Dick, you won’t be able to get yourself out, and I won’t have any way of tracking you!”

The small smirk as the machine’s panel starts going haywire, lights blinking and readings off the charts, makes Wally’s heart clench hard in his chest, makes him try to dig in his heels, makes his stomach tremble.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve already done this, Wally. And I’ll do it as many times as it takes until I change everything.”

The pellet Nightwing palmed before the Flash grabbed his hand goes off the same time the machine hits the highest ratings and a low boom is followed up with an intense swirling suction, pulling the heroes closer to the portal’s surface.

The light grenade goes off without a hitch and the Flash has no choice but to let Nightwing go.

They’re laughing like assholes as they climb through Timmy’s penthouse windows.

#dicktimweek2021 #dicktim #dick grayson #tim drake #sad times #time loop #winter writes #my ficlet

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h2bakugou · 5 years ago

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could I request a headcanon where bakugo, kaminari, kirishima, and maybe todoroki (that’s not too many) react to their gf giving them a painting they made with their body

a/n: yes! im a bit late for this trend but it’s super cute and i wanna do this bruh, i have a canvas i just need to repaint it and then boom

headcanon: them reacting to receiving their s/o’s painting they made with their body

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff, 16+ for mild suggestive themes?

»»————-　★　————-««

katsuki bakugou

»»————-　★　————-««

You’ve seen the trend a few times before you finally get the guts to do it for Bakugou.

You’re super excited when the time comes. You’ve never done something like this. All the gifts you’ve given Bakugou before were usually store-bought, either a small piece of jewelry or a new sweater or shirt.

Never a painting that you made.

After getting all the craft supplies to make it, you turn on some music and get to work.

Painting the canvas a solid black color, you wait for it to dry as you look at the color of paint you’ve chosen to use on your body. A bright orange that matches the highlights of Bakugou’s hero costume.

You roll your shorts up and begin to apply the paint after feeling that the black has dried on your canvas.

Applying the paint is tricky, but with the help of a mirror, you’re able to apply it evenly.

Pressing your bottom down on the canvas, you can’t help but laugh at the situation. You’d just printed your ass in bright orange onto a canvas.

You let your butt rest against the canvas as you lifted the leg you were going to paint and stamp next, applying paint to it carefully as to not let it drip onto the canvas.

You pressed your leg down and used your hands to push it against the canvas.

Sitting for a minute or so, you soon got up and did your hand last. Looking at it from afar, it looked great.

You touched it up some, made the color opaque and then cleaned up. You made sure to sign your name on the bottom in the matching orange paint carefully.

You got most of the paint off, but the rest you’d have to scrub off in the shower. You threw on some loose pants and waited for your canvas to dry completely before taking it to Bakugou’s room.

Bakugou was finishing up some homework when you knocked on his door.

“Come in.” He groaned, not expecting to see you hiding behind a canvas in his doorway.

“Happy anniversary.” You smiled and handed him the canvas. When he turned it over his cheeks flushed red.

“Holy shit.”

“I know it’s not much-”

“You’re a fucking piece of art.” Bakugou set the canvas down and pulled you into him, his lips landing firmly against your own.

The kiss was rough, but sensual.

“Does this mean you like it?” You pull away and giggle.

“I love it.”

»»————-　★　————-««

denki kaminari

»»————-　★　————-««

You’ve got the supplies and you’re ready to get to work. You’ve painted your canvas black and you’ve selected a nice electric yellow.

It’s an easy process of applying the paint.

But as you’re sitting on the canvas, stamping your ass on it, you begin to wonder if Kaminari would like it.

He’s can be a bit perverted, but he’s still super sweet. Is this going to make him short circuit?

You’ve been together for a few months now, and for just a random reason, you wanted to do this for him.

You’ve seen the trend and you want to surprise him.

After successfully stamping your body to the canvas, you sign it and let it dry before delivering it to him.

You dress in one of his electric pun related shirts and some sweatpants and make your trip to go give it to him.

When you arrive, he’s playing Mario Kart with Sero and somehow beating him.

You wait for him to be finished before you give him the gift, not wanting to interrupt his game.

“Alright baby! What’s an angel like you need?” He sets his controller down and walks over to you, giving you a kiss, totally ignoring the canvas your holding.

“I made you something.” You smile, turning the canvas over.

And just like you’d feared, sparks of electricity begin to shoot off of him, his cheeks burning a bright pink shade.

“It’s-you’re...beautiful.” Kaminari mumbles, looking at it and then back up to you.

Sero looks at the canvas and his cheeks brighten up a bit too, but he looks away respectfully.

“This is amazing, can I hang it up?” Kaminari asks, his eyes wide and full of love as he looks at you.

“It’s yours, do whatever you’d like with it, silly.” You kiss his cheek as you watch him jolt over to his bed and quickly move a poster so he can hang it up.

»»————-　★　————-««

eijiro kirishima

»»————-　★　————-««

After seeing the trend, you’re set on making one for Kirishima. You’ve been together for a few months, and feeling a little confident, you decide to surprise him for training so hard these past few weeks.

You paint your canvas the day before you plan on doing the project so it’s already dry and ready for you to plaster yourself on it.

You’ve chosen a crimson color, similar to the shades of red in both his hero costume and his dyed hair.

Kirishima always tries really hard, and his determination inspires you. He has his moments of self-doubt, but it just goes to show that he’s human, like you.

This is something you wanted to do because of him. Kirishima is always telling you how beautiful you are, and it’s hard to feel beautiful sometimes. So, feeling confident, you decide to make yourself, and him a little gift.

The process of stamping your butt, leg, and hand to the canvas is fun, and something you’ll remember forever.

You love the way it looks when it’s finished, and you’re proud of yourself.

Kirishima is lifting weights as he studies when you knock on his door. He shouts for you to come in.

“Hey babe!” He smiles when he sees you. You walk through the door, shimmying the canvas along with you.

“Hey Kiri.” You give him a quick kiss on the cheek and smile as you hold the canvas behind your back.

“What’s that?” He questions, eyeing the canvas.

“You’ve been working hard, and you also reminded me that we’re beautiful. So I made you something to say thank you.”

You hand him the canvas and he’s speechless.

Kiri’s heart was racing as he stared at the perfection before him. He would’ve packed it up and sent it to the nearest art museum to hang it there.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He whispers as he sets the canvas down and walks toward you, pulling you into a hug.

“Thank you, you’re gorgeous too.” You smile, kissing him softly.

“You are truly a work of art.” Kirishima pulls away and nuzzles you closer.

“Can I make one of these for you?” He asks innocently.

“Kiri!” Your face begins to heat up.

“What?!” It hits him. He face palms and waves his hand at you.

“Shut up!” You two begin to laugh.

»»————-　★　————-««

shoto todoroki

»»————-　★　————-««

After taking a few dates to art museums, and the trend you’ve seen all over social media, you’re inspired to give Todoroki an art piece.

It’s more of a gift for him being himself since your anniversary isn’t for another week or so.

But there’s nothing wrong with giving gifts to each other.

You paint your canvas black and let it dry. You’ve chosen a bright navy color, one similar to the color of his hero costume.

At first, you were going to do a classic red and white combo, but you figured he was probably tired of seeing the same color combo in everything.

So you rolled up your shorts and got to work applying the paint on your butt. When you sat down on the canvas, it was an odd feeling. The cold paint had gave you chills when you first applied it, but you soon got used to the feeling.

It was like cuddling up to Shoto’s right side on trips or whenever you two got time alone.

Applying the paint to your leg and pressing it against the canvas, you sat and waited for the paint to stick to the canvas. Standing, you did your hand print and did some final touches.

Letting it dry was surprisingly more agonizing than you thought. You were brimming with excitement, ready to go give it to him already.

when it was finally dry, you put on one of his sweaters, one you’d ‘borrowed’ from him, and some cozy pants.

Todoroki was reading in his room, skimming over a few chapters in one of the classes reading assignments.

when you knocked, he spoke up for you to come in. His eyes immediately noticed the canvas you were holding.

“Hey baby.” He says softly, a gentle smile on his lips. You could always lift whatever mood he was in.

“Hey Sho.” You respond as you tiptoe into his room. You bite your lip as you begin to speak.

“I made you something, and I hope you like it.” You turn over the canvas and hand it to him.

His eyes widen and his cheeks flush.

Your body was painted in a familiar shade of blue as he stares down at the art. It’s gorgeous.

“You made your body into art.” Todoroki hums quietly as he glances at a wall, ready to hang it up already.

“I did, it was a trend I saw-”

“You are a masterpiece, I am honored to have this.” Todoroki set the canvas down carefully and moves over toward you, peppering you with kisses.

“I love it, thank you.” Todoroki thanks you for your gift and your own cheeks begin to heat up.

“I’m glad you like it.” You smile, butterflies floating around in your stomach.

“You should make some more art, it’s lovely.” Todoroki admires it some more.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

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