#anyways did you know yellow is my favourite colour

[ataliagold]

Flowers In Your Hair

For @astrangersummer week 3 prompt 'flowers'. Title from Flowers In Your Hair by The Lumineers.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: General

W/C: 1249

Tags: Post Series 4 Volume 2, Everyone Lives, Established Steddie, Fluff, Soft Steve Harrington, Steve Loves Yellow Flowers, Eddie Loves Steve, El and Max are best friends, summer, this is just softness

Summary: Eddie enlists some help to find the perfect flowers for Steve. Despite his own insecurities, Eddie is learning that his boyfriend loves soft things.

___

“Robin, what kind of flowers does Steve like?”

Eddie was draped over the Family Video counter, having stolen the barely-working desk fan air flow for himself.

Robin paused where she was rifling through the box of returned tapes to give him a confused look. “Flowers? Really?”

Eddie threw up a hand, then regretted it, because that had taken far too much effort in the stifling heat. “What? You think a man can’t buy flowers for another man? You judging me, Buckley?”

Robin scoffed. “No. Just…why flowers?”

“It’s romantic!” Eddie whined. “We have a date tonight and Steve loves that stuff. He might not say it, but he does. On Valentine’s Day I got him chocolates and roses and you should’ve seen his face, honestly if we hadn’t been in public I probably would’ve got on my knees there and then -”

Robin leaned over and slapped a hand across his mouth. “Jesus, enough.”

Eddie grinned behind her hand, and poked his tongue out to touch Robin’s palm.

She snatched it away with a shout, fake gagging behind the counter. “Munson, that was disgusting.”

Eddie shrugged. “You love me, though.”

“Steve loves you,” Robin corrected. “And so, by extension, I’m unfortunately forced to too.” She smiled a little, taking any sting out of her words. “Seriously though, the kids are over there, watch your mouth.” She dipped her head towards the sci-fi section, where Dustin and Mike were loudly arguing over which tape to rent for their next movie night. Max and El were hanging back, Max eagerly trying to explain a movie synopsis to El. Whatever it was, it sounded violent, and El looked confused.

Eddie leaned further over the counter, letting the weak breeze from the fan flick his hair around. “Help me?” he asked, batting his eyes at Robin.

She screwed up her nose a little before responding. “Honestly, I don’t know. You said you got him roses before, right? Did he like those?”

“Well, yeah, but I think he liked the gesture more than anything else.”

Robin shrugged. “Just get him anything, then. It’s from you, so he’ll love it.”

“But I want to get his favourite,” Eddie lamented. “He deserves the best.”

“Well, I agree with you there.”

“Eddie?”

A small voice sounded behind him, and Eddie summoned the energy to turn his head. El was standing behind him, looking a little shy.

“Yeah, supergirl?”

“You wanted to know Steve’s favourite flowers?”

Eddie slid off the counter a bit, straightening up. “Yeah, I do.”

El glanced between him and Robin for a moment. “Steve used to help me and Max with our hair. When mine was longer, we would make daisy chains and Steve braided them into my hair, he even let us put them in his sometimes. We tried to use other flowers sometimes but they did not stay together very well. But Steve’s favourites are yellow ones.”

And that…made sense, Eddie supposed. Yellow was Steve’s favourite colour, after all, but Eddie wasn’t sure where to find yellow flowers. He couldn’t afford much at the florist, and what flowers were yellow, anyway? Sunflowers? Where the hell would he get those?

Robin tugged his sleeve, pulled Eddie back to the counter so she could lean over and whisper, “The Klines have yellow roses growing by their fence.”

“The old Mayor?” Eddie asked with a frown.

“Yup.”

A smile slowly spread across his face.

“There are marigolds by the school field,” El added. “And yellow violas and tulips by the cabin. I can show you.”

And that was how, a short time later, Eddie was snapping off fragrant yellow roses at the stalk where they were poking out between the stark white pickets of Larry Kline’s fence. Max and El were standing further down the footpath, acting as lookouts while Eddie huddled by the fence and took his quarry as quickly as he could.

At the first surprised shout from inside the fence, he darted away, collecting the girls with a grin as he ran past them.

He threw back his head and laughed, roses clutched in his warm hand, Max beaming beside him.

“That guy’s an asshole,” she told Eddie as they jogged away from the house. “Serves him right.”

They couldn’t move too quickly – Max’s bones had healed, but she wasn’t exactly up to a sprint across town just yet. But they made it to Eddie’s van parked around the corner, and moved on to their next stop.

Just like that, Eddie spent the afternoon traipsing along with the two girls. El showed him where to find all sorts of different flowers, and Max went along because where El went, she went. It was hot, the sun baking them from above in a cloudless sky, but Eddie didn’t care – this was for Steve.

By the time they were finished, Eddie had gathered a large handful of flowers in all different shades of yellow and orange, and the girls had wrapped them in some plastic procured from Hopper’s cabin and poured some water into the bottom to keep them fresh in the summer heat.

“There,” El told him proudly, handing over the bouquet while Max tried to find some ribbon in a drawer to tie around it. “They’re pretty. Like Steve.”

Eddie spluttered a little at El’s directness. “Oh…yeah. Yeah, they are. He is.”

El nodded. “Max often says so, too.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Max yelled from El’s room.

Eddie smirked, because the girl’s little crush on his boyfriend was no secret. “It’s ok Max, I agree with you.”

Max stomped back towards them, slapped a length of gold ribbon into Eddie’s hands, and then took El’s arm and pulled her back towards the room.

Effectively dismissed, Eddie returned to his trailer to rush through a shower and getting changed, barely with enough time left to get to Steve’s before their dinner plans.

Waiting in front of his boyfriend’s door, Eddie passed the bouquet from hand to hand, a little nervous.

This is stupid.

Steve Harrington, former jock supreme, once-captain of the basketball team, nail-bat wielding badass wasn’t going to appreciate some yellow flowers.

Eddie almost turned tail. Almost tossed the flowers into the back of his van to be dealt with later, almost gave in to the nerves in his stomach.

Almost.

Because there was a softness to Steve that Eddie was learning to know and love. It was in the way he treated the kids, the way he gently held Eddie’s hand, the way he baked cookies when his friends were coming over and apparently braided flowers into the girls’ hair.

Eddie took a deep breath, clutched his yellow flowers, and knocked on the door.

It opened after a moment.

“Eds, hey, sorry I just gotta get my shoes on -” Steve trailed off as he took in the sight of Eddie standing there, flowers gripped in shaky hands.

Eddie cleared his throat, held out the bouquet. “For you. If, um…if you want them. Sorry if it’s stupid, I wanted to get you something but I couldn’t afford much and El told me you liked yellow flowers so I spent the afternoon going around town and finding them, and the roses actually involved some petty theft but -”

Steve took the flowers with one hand, and pulled Eddie through the door with the other, lips seeking his mouth and swallowing the rest of his sentence.

When they finally pulled apart, Eddie smiled shyly. “You like them, then?”

“I love them, Eds.”

___

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

A fluffy/ mild angsty valentines fic with Bucky where reader gets HIM flowers ( because of the whole guys don’t get flowers thing :((( ) maybe there’s some mutual pining and sweet confession? Like she gets the flowers for him because he makes some joke about not having had a valentine for nearly a century and she’s just like “absolutely not will not allow that >:(“ but he thinks it’s just a joke at first :(

Anyway thanks! Love you!

Bloom.

bucky barnes x female reader

warnings - none

valentines masterlist. inbox. masterlist.

“Are we almost done?”

Bucky looks so miserable, you can’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, we are. We just need flowers, and then we have everything on the list.”

He grabs the shopping cart and pushes it across the grocery store, determinedly marching in the right direction. You’re practically running to keep up with him.

“Which ones?”

You look at all the flowers, touching some of the petals gently as you decide.

“I’m not sure. What’s your favourite kind of flower, Buck?”

He looks at you with a blank expression.

“I don’t have one.”

“What?”

Now it’s your turn to look blankly at him.

“I’ve never been bought flowers. Why would I have a favourite type?”

You frown at him. The idea of Bucky never receiving flowers makes you much sadder than it should, but you’re trying to play it cool.

“Oh. Well… which of these do you like the look of the most? They’re going to go in the middle of the table in the kitchen, so they need to be bright. Give the room some colour.”

He circles the flower display a few times, looking around carefully. Eventually, he picks up a bouquet of tulips, all pinks and oranges and yellows.

“I like these.”

You smile softly, nodding your head.

“Good choice.”

You’re somewhat distracted as the two of you check out. You put the tulips in the bag carefully, glancing at Bucky every so often. He catches you looking, and can’t help but wonder what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You’ve been standing outside Bucky’s door for the better part of fifteen minutes.

He knows.

He heard your footsteps, can hear your chest heaving, lungs working overtime. He’s just waiting for you to make your own decision.

Eventually, you do. After thirty minutes, you decide to just do it. You’ve got nothing to lose.

You knock.

Bucky swings open the door as if he’s been waiting for you, standing patiently on the other side.

“Breathe, honey.”

You didn’t even realise you’d been holding your breath. You exhale, never breaking eye contact with the man in front of you.

“Hi, Buck.”

“Hi, you.”

“I got you something.”

“You did?”

You grab the bouquet from where you’ve leant it against the wall, holding it out to him.

He stops in his tracks, brows furrowed in confusion.

“They’re… for me?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

You inhale deeply, willing yourself to find some temporary courage.

“Because tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. And no one has ever bought you flowers.”

He’s smiling now, soft and knowing.

“You’re the kindest person I’ve ever met.”

He says it so sincerely, so genuinely, that it makes you want to cry. You hand the flowers to him, grinning as he admires them up close.

“They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

That takes you by surprise.

You and Bucky have always had a careful, consistent friendship. Ever since he first barrelled into your life, you’ve thrown tender smiles his way, nodding your head in acknowledgement every time he passed you in the hallways. He warmed to you, slowly but surely. Your kindness, your generosity, your genuineness - you’ve charmed him delicately, somewhat accidentally.

You’ve also been in love with him since day one.

You never thought to mention it - he’s healing, learning, growing as he goes, and you don’t want to halt his progress. So, you’ve pined from a distance, gently and quietly.

“Buck… will you be my valentine?”

He beams at you, the most luminescent smile you’ve ever seen from him.

“Oh, sweetheart. I’ve been working up the courage to ask you that every year since I met you. Knew you’d beat me to it.”

You laugh, stepping in closer to him. He puts the flowers down carefully, reaching out to cup your face in his hands.

“Can I kiss you, my valentine?”

You nod, already leaning in. He presses his lips to yours, and he swears he feels flowers bloom in his ribcage, bright and alive.

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Ravel

A Seams Christmas special oneshot | Moodboard

{ Part IV: Notch | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: T

Summary: Joel swings by yours with a little something before Christmas dinner at Tommy and Maria's.

Warnings: Unapologetic fluff and softness, inspired by this ask from @casssiopeia from the beginning of the year, no use of Y/N, very lightly edited

Word count: 2k

Notes: I'm so proud of writing up this little drabble. I've been in such a weird place with my writing, I'm just happy to end the year on a creative high. Obviously, I'm a few days late to Christmas, but better late than never!

There is a voice in my head telling me that this isn't good enough, that it doesn't hold up to what I was writing earlier this year. But I need to rewire my brain. There is no such thing as 'good' or 'bad' when it comes to fanfiction. All fanfiction is good fanfiction. This is our hobby, not our jobs, and we need to be kind to ourselves.

I am posting this at 11:59pm on New Year's Eve. Happy new year y'all, I hope Joel and Pin can bring you some festive cheer ❤️

Joel is this close to have a fucking breakdown.

He would measure out how close this is between his thumb and index finger if they were not currently tangled in webs of yarn, rapidly unravelling from from the bottom of what is supposed to be a sweater.

Your sweater.

The book that Lucy lent him months ago lies on the table before him, the pages yellowed and dogeared, open at the the easiest pattern of the lot to knit - a simple pullover in chunky yarn, in your favourite colour.

Well, it was supposed to be easy, anyway.

Despite Lucy basically holding his hand throughout the whole project, he’s had far less time than anticipated to work on it. Too many nights he finds himself at Tommy and Maria’s, elbow deep in dirty baby’s clothes and diapers, making himself useful for whatever needs to be done around the house. 

Even Ellie chips in without being asked, often bringing back food from the canteen and making sure the severely sleep-deprived adults are eating, if not well fed. Joel honestly doesn’t remember how he did it with Sarah as a clueless twenty-something, with an even more clueless younger brother.

As he attempts to free himself from the quagmire of wool, he grimaces at the stiffness all over his body, feeling it especially in his back after sleeping in an armchair all night with a rapidly growing two-month old.

He’s too old for this shit - but there’s no saying no to the little rascal with Tommy’s nose and Maria’s eyes.

The knitting needles clatter to the floor when he jumps at the front door opening and slamming shut, a frustrated fuuuuuuck slipping past his gritted teeth. 

Ellie’s voice rings out loud and clear as she scampers up the stairs, getting progressively louder until she’s outside his study. ‘Hey! Did you remember to put the potatoes in the oven? We have to leave for Tommy’s in an hour - dude, what the fuck is happening?’

‘What do you think is happenin’?’ he growls.

Crossing her arms, Ellie leans against the doorframe wearing a far too amused expression. ‘Maria said no gifts.’

Joel rolls his eyes. ‘It’s not for Maria.’

The teenager squints, perplexed, at the bits of wool in his hands. ‘What is that meant to be?’

‘... A sweater.’

Ellie bites her bottom lip, holding in a poorly concealed giggle. ‘I think a sweater is meant to have sleeves.’

‘You think?’

‘Want me to go get Lucy?’

With a heavy sigh, he mutters, ‘Fine.’

At the arch of her half-eyebrow, Joel adds begrudgingly, ‘Please.’

Ellie grins, sneakers skidding on the floorboards as she takes off. ‘Hang in there, old man!’

Despite the cold, his palms are sweaty, sticking to the kraft paper wrapped haphazardly around the even more haphazard package clutched tightly in his right hand. 

The night air mists before him in puffs of white as he shuffles a path through the falling snow. His ears are tingling from the cold, and flexing the stiff, frozen tips of his fingers, Joel knows he should’ve worn his gloves. They weren’t in their usual place by the door though, and he was so frazzled that he barely got his shoes tied up before dashing out the door, sending Ellie ahead with the potatoes (that are definitely undercooked) to his brother’s.

Your cottage glows yellow and orange in the darkness, and your stairs no longer creak when he trudges up them, having fixed them just in time before the first snowfall.

He hears your footsteps come from deep within this house when he knocks. Your eyes are wide when your door cracks open tentatively, but then your lips curve into a smile - the smile that he takes with him and keeps him warm when he has to leave Jackson for days-long patrols.

‘What are you doing here?’ you ask, ushering him inside, not batting an eye at the snow he tracks inside. ‘I thought we were meeting at Maria’s.’

Pressing a kiss to your lips, he softens at the way you lift your face towards him to catch it, careful to keep the parcel out of sight behind his back. ‘Yeah, we were, but thought I’d see if you need a hand with anythin’.’

‘Such a gentleman,’ you tease. 

A low fire burns in the hearth, the wood he chopped for you in the fall stacked in a tidy pile next to the mantelpiece. Sweeping his eyes across the living space, he spots the book with the cracked spine that he reads when he’s here on the coffee table, next to yours. On the other side of the couch is the Christmas tree that he cut for you, and he watched you dress it up in tinsel and fairylights one night after a quiet dinner and before hot cocoa under thick blankets.

He likes seeing himself at your home. In the things he does for you; in his things, casually scattered around - like they belong in your space.

‘The pies are in the kitchen, could you please put them in a bag?’ you ask. ‘I’ll just grab my coat and we can go.’

‘Sure, sweetheart,’ he answers, waiting until you’ve disappeared into the bedroom before setting down the present under the tree.

He’s leaning against the back of the couch when you pop back in, a few layers deeper than when you left him, the pies nestled safely in a carrier bag by his boots. 

‘Shall we?’ you ask brightly.

Joel hesitates, wondering if he should wait until after dinner to tell you about the present. It only takes his eyes darting to the foot of the tree for the briefest moment for you to catch on. The slow smile that stretches your cheeks and lights up your eyes warms him from the inside out.

You cock your head to one side, playing coy. ‘What’s that, Joel?’

He shrugs, feigning cool. ‘Why don’t you go ahead and find out?’

His chest physically swells at the way you dash towards the tree, landing on your knees in uncharacteristic recklessness, the impact only softened by the rug underneath. You cradle the lumpy package to your chest like something precious. ‘You got me a present.’

He settles on the end of the couch next to you, his heart beating harder in his ribcage than he’d like to admit. ‘Don’t get your hopes up, sweetheart.’

You frown at him. ‘Why?’

‘You’ll see, but I wanted to give it to you anyway.’

You open the package carefully, as if it was wrapped in the fancy paper people used to buy at the shop. Joel holds his breath when you peel it away to reveal what’s inside.

He’s far too inside his own head to hear your inhale that sounds a lot like wonder. You pick up the sweater gently, shaking it out, and Joel winces when he sees it in the flicker of the firelight.

Disastrous doesn’t begin to cover it. Lucy managed to connect the sleeves to the shapeless body in a last-ditch salvage attempt, but one is clearly longer than the other. The stitches are untidy, some have obviously caught onto something and pulled loose. Rough around the edges is putting it kindly.

Joel wants to reach out, grab it, chuck it into the fire and let the flames swallow it whole.

Finally, the silence gets the better of him, and he blurts out. ‘I’m sorry.’

You stare at him, stunned. ‘What?’

Under his whiskers, his cheeks flush in embarrassment, and he rambles, ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinkin’. You deserve better sweetheart, here, let me -’

You almost lose your balance keeping the sweater out of his reach. ‘Don’t you dare, Joel Miller.’

Confused, he watches you rise to your feet, shucking your outer coat and another layer. ‘What are you doin’?’

Grabbing the sweater, you slide it over your head and thread your arms through the sleeves. The soft knit drapes over your curves, too big over your shoulders and the hem falling unevenly, higher on the right side than the left. One sleeve is long enough to cover half your hand, while the other sits right on the wrist.

And yet. 

You’re beaming like you just picked up something at Bloomin’dales or whatever the fuck those department stores were called back then. 

‘I love it,’ you declare, no trace of irony in your voice, as hard as he’s trying to find it.

He scoffs in disbelief. ‘C’mon, sweetheart, you’re just sayin’ it -’

You surprise him, grabbing him by the scruff of his collar and dragging him towards you to plant a firm kiss on his lips. 

‘I love it,’ you repeat slowly, with conviction, as if willing him to believe you. ‘Thank you.’

He doesn’t quite still, but he smiles and kisses you back. ‘Merry Christmas, sweetheart.’

‘Since we’re doing this -’ you trail off, sliding out of his grip to reach around the back of the tree, pulling out a neatly wrapped gift. ‘This is for you.’

Joel pauses. 

For him.

For the longest time, nothing had been for him unless it was soul-crushing grief and pain.

And yet here it is - his name on the tag written in your neat handwriting. Something he can hold in his hands. For him.

His fingers tremble when he reaches out. The package is soft, and the paper crackles under his grip. He all but tears it open, uncaring of the way the wrapping falls to the floor.

A laugh bubbles out of his throat, and you look relieved at his reaction. ‘You like it?’

It’s not quite a Santa hat. It’s a chunky dark red beanie with a white brim folded back, and topped with a white pompom. 

‘My ears were so cold walkin’ over. It’s perfect,’ he says, pulling it over the crown of his head. Of course, it fits just right, sliding soft and warm over his ears. He adds with a wink, ‘Y’know what, I might just shimmy down some chimneys after dinner.’

‘As long as you shimmy down mine too,’ you retort, not hearing the euphemism.

Joel quirks an eyebrow at that, one large palm squeezing your backside through the layers. ‘That an open invitation, sweetheart?’

You duck your head, more out of habit than actual shyness, with mischief in your smile. ‘Don’t be so crude, Joel Miller.’

Adjusting his new hat so that it sits comfortably, he points at the pompom and jokes, ‘Shame I can’t wear this on patrols.’

Right on cue, you hold up a finger. ‘Funny you should say that.’

He chuckles when you pull out a second, plain black beanie, as if out of thin air. ‘You really thought of everythin’, sweetheart.’

You shrug playfully. ‘I’m smart like that.’

‘I know you are,’ he smiles.

‘Merry Christmas, Joel.’

His lips find yours again in a slow, lingering kiss that has you leaning into him for more when he pulls back. ‘Thank you. For everythin’.’

You hold his gaze - heavy with meaning, light with joy. It wouldn’t take more than a tilt of the head towards the bedroom to derail your evening plans, and you both know it.

In the end, you’re the one who stays strong. Taking one step back from his warmth, you reach for your coat. ‘We’re late, we should go.’

His eyes widen. ‘Wait - you’re not wearin’ that to dinner are you?’

‘Of course I am,’ you say, buttoning up your coat over the sweater.

‘You don’t have to, sweetheart,’ he almost pleads with you.

You grin, heading for the door, blowing out candles as you go. ‘Too bad, I’m never taking it off.’

Joel shakes his head with a wry huff. ‘Well, I hope not never -’

You have one foot out the door when you suddenly remember. ‘I almost forgot - you left your gloves here last time. They’re in the cupboard by the door.’

Ah, that’s where they went. He opens the drawer and pulls them on, one after the other, the leather, worn smooth with age, creaking as he wraps his fingers around the handles of the carrier bag.

Joel is about to follow you out the door when he pauses over the threshold. Glancing down at the black beanie in his grasp, he reaches up and hooks it on the coat rack, nestled among your clothes.

He hopes that when the time comes for him to wear it for the first time - maybe on a patrol that will take him away from you for a few days - it will smell like you.

Gorgeous dividers by @firefly-graphics ❄️

More notes: I hope I will return to the main series in the new year. I've missed these two lovebirds, I hope you enjoyed this little interlude! ❤️

[greenlaut]

death of the divine ✸

as your flatter talk shivers down my spine i hear the Holy One exposing all the lies (Lord, forgive me, i know my flesh needs to die) x

baal / lucifer / michael from angels before man and angels & man by @nicosraf

close-ups + work progress under the cut

og sketches

cleaned up sketch (i can't perceive my own messy sketch's coherency ok)

1st version. didn't like how thick the lineart and the colour palette isn't clicking with me. is so i scrapped it. decided i want to do frame/illuminated manuscript thingy so i added frame and re-centered michael.

i kind of winged it for the final version, so i don't have progress of me picking colour palette or compositions. idk how i did it, i just did it, it was hard. i had a bad day so i blanked out the entire day to just lose myself in this illustration. and then uh. tada.

now some close-ups:

and some notes:

i know i want lucifer's skin to come across as "gold", so i keep picking his colour in the orange spectrum. bcs yanno--the sun (morningstar). naturally baal is more red leaning, which i think also suits his lion associated imagery well (because lion -> strength card (in tarot deck) -> red. idk, it's how my brain is)

originally michael doesn't wear an armour. i decided last minute to put him in one because fuck it; (1) armour cool and (2) i am a masochist ig

both baal and lucifer wear lipgloss. this is entirely dedicated to rafael's (the author. not the angel.) suffering. they share lipgloss by kissing, you fools.

michael has "jellyfish" hairstyle because. the front bob kinda reminds me how catholic friars/monks in certain schoolings cut their hair in that bob hair? yknow the one?? ya?? anyway it's for that imagery.

both baal and lucifer's legs are caging michael. bcs they're what ground him (vices/temptations) ahahahahaa

i actually asked rafael (author not the angel) and he said he imagined baal is a brunette, which is the same like i had in mind. except that baal asked that he got depicted as a wizened old man/wizard. so now he gets a beard and his hair is white. (he also insisted i gave him a stylish beard)

if u look closely at the jewelries the demons wore; one of lucifer's rings and baal's visible earring have gemstones the colour of michael's eyes

in return, michael's sash is the colour of the demons

baal has a ring with heliodor (yellow) for lucifer, and lucifer has a(nother) ring with red ruby for baal

baal's other gemstones are topaz and lucifer's are yellow jasper

both demons have pearl necklaces. they're supposed to represent michael('s wings ahahahahahaahaha)

my headcanon is that michael's wings are brown like sparrow's actually. BUT during the war, god gave him more power and authority and my understanding is that he got tempered into a perfect sword; so his wings turned white. when book 3 came out and they finally bang (I FUCKING HOPE THEY DO. RAFAEL. THIS IS FOR YOU RAFAEL.) his wings will turn brown againehehhehe

lucifer's coat has wing-like cut at the ends to represent his no longer existing wingsbye

michael is blue because one time i shared this imagery with rafael; michael wearing blue because of the same reason virgin mary is depicted in blue. god's favourites are in blue; fated to suffer and be left behind.

fin.

[rustytrident]

time for the token pact mark hcs every obey me writing account has!!

kinda 18+ on asmo's section but not in the way u think.

mammon's pact mark came first, and you couldn't say you were surprised when it showed up on the palm of your dominant hand. circular, not too intricate, shining yellow; it wasn't exactly hard to miss but it wasn't too obvious, compared to the ones you would gather along the way. mammon still finds every chance to hold your hand, trace his sigil – hell, even high five you – so he can feel his power merged with your energy (his favourite is when you cup his face with that hand, but of course he won't admit it).

leviathan's showed up on your sternum – an interesting spot, you thought, but rolled with it either way. it was only when you felt envy for the first time after your pact that you realised it weighs down more on your chest than any other spot on your body. did you kinda feel like iron man, walking around with an orange circle in the middle of your chest? yeah. did you thank whoever decided the mark would show up there when levi cuddled his face into your sternum to feel your combined energy before he fell asleep? yeah <3.

beelzebub's showed up on your tongue, and no matter how obvious the spot is you just couldn't find it the first few days?? like okay pact is here but here where?? then you yawned in front of a mirror by chance and almost gave yourself whiplash cause why was your tongue bleeding?? upon further inspection, you concluded it was just a pact mark! long, branching out like the roots of a tree, like lightning, from the back to the front of your tongue, it looked sick. now, did you start taking selfies with your tongue out because of a newfound bad boy look or was it because you wanted to show off your demon – that is up to the audience's interpretation.

asmodeus gave you a tramp stamp. a fucking tramp stamp. you don't even know whether to laugh or cry the first time you see it in all its pink glory, so you do neither. you call solomon. you ask him where his pact mark is. he answers "on my lower back, right above my ass". you hang up the phone. asmo later on explains that he's doing you a favour by getting you into 2000s fashion, and that you should be glad the pact mark showed up there, and not on the spot the beings he doesn't have romantic feelings for get it. you don't ask where that is, but you do start wearing more low rise clothes. asmo's home screen after that is him hugging your ass after he put you in his juicy sweatpants with the bedazzled JUICY on them, pact mark on full display.

satan's pact mark is on your temples – two small, spiked circle sigils, green as his sin's colour. he says you look hot when you get mad and they light up, and when you roll your eyes at him he reassures you that you look just as badass, too. the one time you watched back a video leviathan took of you failing to beat a boss for what felt the hundredth time on the newest game he bought, you understood what satan meant. if you're the type of person to cry while angry, your red eyes make the green marks show up even more – satan says during those moments you look like a siren, and you accept it with a bashful nod. it would be improper to deny a compliment from a demon lord, anyway.

belphegor's mark showed up on your nape. you're bummed out about not being able to see it when you'd like, but he says it's fine. really, who wouldn't be overjoyed about having purple, star-like freckles at the back of their neck, right? especially when your demon says they remind him of the sky in the human world, hence the design and detail that was put into it. sometimes, belphegor likes to fall asleep while spooning you and kissing the stars on your nape. will he admit it? nah. but you know, and he knows, and that's enough (he's usually asleep after the 11th star. yes, you counted).

lucifer gave you the longest mark you had, starting from the top of your neck, and dropping down between your collar bones. it looked like a very intricate dagger, with a carved blade, the tip of it resting at the spot where your ribcage starts. when you asked him about it, he told you that pride, the sin and the feeling both, demands of you to keep your head up. hold your head down, submit, show humility, and you miss it. and so, you kept your head up. it wasn't like lucifer carelessly handed out pacts and emotional bonds with the beings of any realm – and you couldn't say you disliked when his eyes trailed down to your neck before returning to your eyes again, with a softer look this time.

gonna close this by saying that the only pact mark placements I've seen are on mc's back, placed in a sigil wheel, or one atop the other in a line on their spine. still, if someone has said what I said before me, tell me so i can credit them!

[puckpocketed]

who is #43?

Hello !! First off thank u for visiting. If you clicked read more by accident rip sorry it’s a lot of text. ENJOY!!! <3

1. This was the photo reference I used. I really did mean it when i said he photographs well!! I really like how scrungly he looks at times lol. v paintable

2. here’s a timelapse for your viewing pleasure in video + gif form <3

3. Process breakdown below. I am not formally trained, so don’t take any of this as professional advice!! The way i paint has been compared to channeling some evil contract with a demon also. So um . Im saying that i dont remotely think that this is efficient or correct, its just whats comfortable for me <3

3a) the dreaded lining phase. I have 2 modes of operation when it comes to painting - either i go full-dick with fancy inking/sketching + cel shading (rare, unrefined, haven’t figured out a nice workflow yet) OR i do a very very basic chicken scratch set of lines like so:

It’s less about being realistic here and more about laying down some guide lines for the chaos ahead. If i thought i could get away with it, I would start every rendered painting i do with laying down colours — but unfortchh ive tried that before and it usually ends in really weird proportions. Even with the lines i still need to make adjustments. This is something no people except me would notice but look at the above sketch; the eyes are too big and slightly too far apart, the forehead is too small and thus the hair is also not quite big enough… I have a bad habit of drawing eyes too big on faces, they’re my favourite facial feature to draw.. i barely resisted giving him big cow eyelashes (I love big cow eyelashes… all of my OC’s and most of my more stylised fan art of characters get big cow eyelashes… god…. Big cow eyelashes SAVE ME……….)

Anyway. Structure of the face + hand somewhat established. <3

3b) Underpainting!! Okay stay with me here . Ever since i figured out i dont have to paint in 03925893853 different layers, I’ve joyfully painted on 1 layer as much as possible. I dont have the brain power all the time to be managing layers so I simply dont work with that many layers. For this painting, the skin in its entirety was painted on one layer, the hair on another layer, and the effects on the last layer. There was a placeholder background off-white/grey colour for a while there, and I duplicated the line layer — one for figuring out where to lay colours, and one hidden for later so i could check back to see how accurate to the sketch/proportions were to the actual painting. 6 layers, 2 of which i painted the bulk of the piece on, 1 more at the end.

3c) here’s where I started carving out features. I think about objects in terms of volumes and light rather than lines. i love painting and sculpting because of this!! Here you see where I’ve begun to define his features — his eyelids, his bags, his nostrils. Just refining what was there before. The suggestion of facial hair before i gave it up and left it for later (his face is so naked the WHOLE time)

3d) nose bridge highlight, suggesting his eyebrows, a cheek highlight. A touch more coral red and muted yellow pull away from the grey/blue underpainting. Strategically leaving some of it peeking through.

3e) i truly start messing with the fidelity of his features here. Red lipstick <3 and some violet/blue for shadows on the right side of his face.

3f) the part where it starts looking like q.hughes to me (though, my friend said i got his vibe pretty early on which is such a compliment.. waaaaa…..) I love this part of every painting i do. I know it’s definitely not the Correct order since other parts of the entire painting are simply Not Rendered or Done, but whos gonna stop me?? :3

I love love loveeee painting faces. Adding the little shinies to his eyes + lips + upper lip + nose … you don’t know how much of a difference it makes until you do it. Also i snatched his eyebrows

3g) i really pushed the red/coral/ochre/orange here. Note the yellow highlights on his cheekbones, the forehead, and the thin thin line of pink right between where his bottom lip ends and his chin shadow starts <- very important . To ME!!!!!!! Also highlighting his waterline and adding his lashes was so so fun <3

3h) FACIAL HAIR!!! And I started rendering his hand. Some micro adjustments made to his face for proportion check.

3i) i start painting his hair in earnest and realise his forehead is too small so i make the adjustment. I really love how it falls into his eyes in this photo. <3

3j) i make some final adjustments to his eyes — a bit smaller, closer together. And i refine the outline of his jaw, push the stylisation of it just a little.

3k) Finishing details; his flyaway hairs, his moles, a bit of texture on his face, shadows cast by his hair, his little forehead cut <3

3l) i adjusted his hand here, added more texture to his skin, refined his hair a tiny bit more, and made the decision not to fuck around painting his jersey because i wanted the focus to be his face <3

3m) Canucks blue and green. Captain at 23. His form bleeds into the background. He is the franchise.

theee most fun ive had painting anything. and i finally feel... warmed up? if that makes sense. art for me is like. if i dont do it in a while it feels like nothing goes right when i come back to it. i hate that feeling, and the most difficult hurdle to clear is letting myself feel that until i get back into my Zone. after all this time i feel like im BACK !!!!!!!

i loved painting this fella. hes SO Shaped. <3

Apologies i simply do Not have the energy to write the alt text for all of these so i hope the little blurbs are okay aslkjasdklj. i gotta post and go to bed . if u made it this far, thank you for reading!!

[luveline]

Hey gorgeous! I think I saw somewhere that you’d be open to taking a shot at Steddie x reader and I have this fall idea that’s been stuck in my head :) all 3 are together getting ready for a Halloween party but Eddie and reader argue about how to do Steve’s makeup and everyone gets totally distracted ❤️

ty for your request! steddie x fem, 1k

"Yes," you say, more to yourself than Steve as you close his bedroom door. "Quick, babe, while he's gone." 

Steve sits back in his bed unbothered. "You know I'm not gonna kiss you while he's gone. He gets antsy." 

"Not kissing. I'm gonna do your vampire makeup, duh." 

"That's an even worse idea," Steve says, though his protests die as you climb onto the bed and over his legs. "We'll get in trouble." 

"Eddie wants to make you look goth. I want to make you look like a vampire, not like someone from KISS." Truthfully, you're not trying to do Steve's makeup because you think you know better —you want to do it because Eddie will get fake mad with you and maybe throw you around a little bit. Teasing him is your favourite girlfriend's duty. "Am I too heavy?" 

"Shut up." 

You bring your hand to his bare face, stroking his cheek with the back of your hand. "So loving. Did you put moisturiser on?" 

Steve saves you from having to stand up again, having moisturised well. If you needed to you couldn't anyhow, his hands on your hips and locked like he's worried you're gonna topple off of him and fall the three feet to the floor, injuring yourself grievously. 

You start with white powder over his face, darkening the hollows of his eyes and cheeks with a dark purple colour for fun. He sits patiently, letting you turn his face this way and that.

"You want lipstick?" you ask, holding his jaw in one hand, a whisper so as not to disrupt the quiet that's fallen. 

"How about you put some on?" he asks. "That way I'll get some eventually." 

The image of you trading kisses for lipstick is inescapable. You want desperately to dig your face into his neck and kiss him, but the white make up transfers. "You owe me one for that." 

"Liked that, huh?" he asks lightly. 

"Liking it less." You sit back on his thighs and look him over. "I'm no good at mascara on other people, Eddie'll have to do it." 

"Eddie won't be able to do it," Steve says, and there would be pink to his cheeks if he wasn't covered, "you know what he's like, he can't not kiss you if he's close enough." 

You have a hickey on the side of your neck to prove it, skin purpled and yellowed from nights of being the little spoon. He doesn't mean to go so far, but it's hardly like you mind. As long as he doesn't go too high to be covered by your collar, he can kiss you whatever way he likes. 

Speaking of, your dark-haired boyfriend finally reappears, shirtless and yawning, three coat hangers in his hand that hold your clothes freshly steamed for tonight's party. "Hey," he says, looking down, his back arched backward as he shakes out your dress. He doesn't have a clue how good looking he is or how warm his bad posture makes you feel, how it emphasises the slightest muscle of his abdomen and the slimmer outline of his waist. "Y/N, I don't think the creases are ever gonna come out of your dress." 

"That's fine. You're just gonna douse me in syrup anyways." 

Eddie looks up smiling but his eyes quickly narrow, tossing your clothes over the dresser with a betrayed squeak. "You fucking sneak! I should've known you were gonna do it while I was gone. Babe, go wipe that shit off so I can do it again." 

"I can't do that," Steve says. 

"Why not?" 

"Uh, because that's, like, a cardinal rule? Happy wife, happy life."

"What's the rule about heartbroken boyfriends?" Eddie asks. He's talking and looking at Steve but he's approaching you, grabbing your hands in an attempt to steamroll you back into the bedsheets. 

You laugh, putting up a good fight for a time, but your laughter has you weak and it's not long before Eddie's pushed you down onto Steve's bed, a knee between your thighs as he clamps your arms flat on either side of you. 

"You'd look so fucking sick in the Star Child makeup, please let me do it." 

"How about you guys go half and half?" Steve asks. 

Eddie turns his gaze to you, glaring, a loving quirk to his lip as he bends over you. "You're such a fucking sneak. I swear, you do it to piss me off." 

"That's exactly why I do it," you say, squirming in his tight grip. He squeezes you as if to show that he's stronger than he looks, getting closer and closer as your defences wane. "You're an easy target, how is that my fault?" 

"I'm an easy target? Which one of us is pinned down right now, sweetheart?" 

"Guys," Steve says, defeated through laughter, "you always do this! You fight and make up and someone decides to take my clothes off and we never get anywhere!" 

"Who said we're taking your clothes off, Stevie?" Eddie asks. 

"He's so presumptuous," you murmur agreeably. 

"Right?" Eddie nips down to kiss you, his smile a tight line pressed to the seam of yours. You kiss up and he relaxes ever so slightly, his hands loosening at your wrists to take your hands and hold them instead. 

"Forgive me?" you ask into his mouth. 

Eddie kisses a sharp stripe from the corner of your lips to your eye. "Nope." He punctuates with one last kiss before sitting up, and again, he can't know that the pose he's in could sell magazines, head tipped back and your joined hands held to his naked stomach. You sit up to be as close to him as possible. "I accept your half and half deal. You'll look like an idiot." 

You offer a hand to Steve and he accepts it. Eddie looks at him like he might try to eat him, but there's a real, soft love in his eyes as you both look up into Steve's pale face.

"She didn't do your eyes, huh?" Eddie asks fondly. 

"You'll do it for me, right? I can't do that shit, the wand. I'll blind myself." 

"Obviously I'll do it for you. Imagine the tension." 

You giggle happily and drop back down, yanking on their hands as you go. "Well, don't be too tense. You guys still have to pour that jug of fake blood on me." 

[monomyth-scribbles]

A Walk Would Be Nice

Zhongli × Female Reader. One Shot. Zhongli proposes that you take him on a date, but he clearly has other things in mind. Zhongli is in his chunky dragon form (inspired by my obsession with his exuvia plushie). Mostly fluff and humour, with just a hint of implied smut.

You’re nice and relaxed on the couch when you feel a soft kiss pressed against your cheek. A familiar, deep voice rumbles into your ear. “Welcome home, darling. Did you have a good day at work?” 

You turn to look into your Zhongli’s warm, amber eyes. “I did, actually. How was your day?” You return his kiss with a quick peck to his nose.

“Would’ve been better with you,” Zhongli chuckles, smooth-tongued as always. “Director Hu was a… handful, as always, but nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, dear. Maybe we should go on a date? Lift your spirits a bit?” You ask, taking Zhongli’s gloved hand in your own and giving it a firm squeeze. When you lift his knuckles to your lips, your heart flutters as your husband’s eyes crinkle into a smile.

“A walk would be nice,” he concedes. “Would you like to take me on a walk, darling?”

“Of course, my love. Give me five minutes to get changed, okay? Where do you want to go?”

“The stars over the harbour were exceptionally beautiful on my way home. We should see them together.” 

“Alright! Sounds like a plan. Be right back!” You make a beeline for your shared bedroom, excited for your date with Zhongli. Having been bogged down by countless commissions over the past weeks, it seems as if you’ve barely spent any time with him recently. And although your husband is an infinitely patient and gracious man, distance has only sharpened the pangs of yearning in your heart. You know that Zhongli feels the same.

You pick out an outfit that Zhongli bought for you on your third anniversary. His taste was flawless as always, the blouse and skirt ensemble effortlessly chic. He’d made sure that the outfit was made with lightweight silk in your favourite colour. But because this was Zhongli you were speaking of, the clothing was also delicately embroidered with intricate patterns, the hand-stitched threads imitating the geometric designs favoured by the former Lord of Geo. You twirl in your outfit, feeling exceptionally beautiful in your finery, giddy with excitement as you anticipate Zhongli’s approval and appreciation.

“Honey I’m ready!” You burst out of your bedroom and give another twirl. “Shall we—” You scan the room, seeking out your husband. “Zhongli…?”

A small head crowned with a magnificent mane and vivid yellow horns peeks out. You watch in stunned silence as a perfectly lap-sized dragon drapes itself along the back of the couch. “You look gorgeous, darling. Lovelier than usual, were that even possible.”

Your eyes follow the dragon’s tail as it lazily sways back and forth. “Zhongli, I thought we were going for a walk,” You manage. Finally coming to your senses, you primly seat yourself and see Zhongli’s usual robes neatly folded beside you.

Your husband’s deep voice sounds strange coming from a tiny dragon’s body. “To be precise, darling, I did ask you to take me for a walk.”

“I’m not putting you on a leash,” you interject hastily. Unhelpful memories suddenly surface in your mind and your face feels exceptionally warm. “Uh… Not today, anyway. And certainly not in public.”

“We can save the leash for another time,” Zhongli moves from his perch, curling up in your lap. “I was thinking you could carry me around the Harbour. What say you, hm?”

“What’s gotten into you today?” You huff, although you watch your own hand start to stroke his sinuous body, his scales cool to the touch. It feels… nice, you think. 

“Well,” Zhongli chuckles, pushing his head into your hand, eagerly seeking out your touch. His tail coils around your arm, the fluffy end reaching up to affectionately tickle your cheek. “When a husband misses his wife, he is allowed to make… ah, bolder requests of her, is he not?” 

“Not this bold,” you mutter. Your hand doesn’t stop its path up and down his back, carefully avoiding the amber scutes in its path. Inwardly, you curse your husband’s intimate knowledge of your weaknesses. Zhongli knows all too well that you find his miniature dragon form absolutely adorable. He knows that there is nothing you would deny him when he turns himself into a chubby noodle. The God of Contracts knows how to press his advantage, and he was never above playing a little dirty.

Zhongli rests one paw on top of your other hand, the slightly rough texture of his paw pad causing pleasant friction against your skin as he strokes you. “Nothing would make me happier than to spend time with you like this.”

“Alright… fine. Fine.” You narrow your eyes at Zhongli as he stands on his hind legs, paws reaching out for you as you move to pick him up. You sway his body from side to side, teasing him. “You are one extremely spoiled dragon, you know that?”

“My only defence is that my wife takes wonderful care of me.”

Ugh. How smug. You cradle him against your chest and depart for the harbour.

☆☆☆☆☆

Zhongli is right: the stars are marvellously bright this evening. Pinpricks of light adorn the deep blue blanket of the night sky, sparkling like the priceless gems sold at Mingxing Jewellery. You chuckle as you recall Zhongli’s fondness for all manner of precious treasures.

You take a familiar path along Feiyun Slope, your ears picking up the gentle sloshing of the water down at the harbour below. Around you, the city slowly comes alive with chatter as the heat of the late afternoon sun cools and people begin to pursue hard-earned leisure after a long day’s work. You take the steps between Xinyue Kiosk and Liuli Pavillion, peeking over Zhongli in your arms as your feet carefully find their way down.

Every so often, Zhongli snuggles further into your chest, or nuzzles your neck. “You’re very distracting, my love.” You chide, using the palm of your hand to gently push him away from your face. “I thought you were supposed to be pretending to be a dragon plushie. You’re going to give the game away.”

Zhongli just makes a sound of contentment against you. “The city is too busy at this time of day to pay close attention to us, darling.” Then his long tongue playfully flicks your ear.

“Zhongli!” You whisper urgently, jostling him in retaliation.

Hmph! You think. You flick your dragon husband’s forehead, but all that brings you is the deep rumble of laughter. “Do that again,” he teases. “I could barely feel it through my scales.”

You’re almost at the water’s edge when you hear someone call your name. Turning, you see Hu Tao waving at you from the distance, grinning widely. Feeling just a bit disappointed at the disruption of your date, you nevertheless plaster a matching grin on your face and make your way to Hu Tao.

You don’t know the director of Wangsheng Funeral Parlour too well, but she’s made your acquaintance thanks to Zhongli. He’d warned you about how… nosy his employer could be, and anticipating her prying into his private life, had introduced you early on as his wife.

“How are you doing, Director Hu?” You ask, a polite smile stiff on your face.

Hu Tao waves off your greeting. “Don’t be so formal with me! I’m not your boss, am I?” Her eyes move to rest on the fat brown lizard in your arm. “Oh my, that’s an adorable plushie isn’t it?”

You panic and take a hasty step back, clutching Zhongli even closer. “Don’t mind me, Director Hu. Zhongli just won this for me from the arcade. I’m… uh… I’m very attached to it, you see.”

Bringing up Zhongli’s name successfully diverts Hu Tao’s attention. She looks behind you, as if expecting to see your husband hiding in your shadow. “You’re here with Mr Zhongli, are you? Where is he?”

You feel Zhongli squirm in your arms, and you tighten your grip around him in warning. “Ah, he’s… gone to get us some tea. I told him I was feeling rather parched.”

Hu Tao chuckles, clearly amused at the mental image of Zhongli spoiling you. “I never knew our good consultant to be such a doting husband. He’s always so reserved and formal at work, you know? Stiff, almost.”

At Hu Tao’s words, you feel something soft brushing against your knee. You tense as you realise Zhongli’s tail is creeping up your skirt. You step closer to Hu Tao, trying to prevent her from glimpsing Zhongli’s wayward tail. She quirks an eyebrow at your proximity while you babble to distract her.

“I do apologise for my husband’s behaviour, Director Hu. He’s rather set in his ways, bless him. I hope he hasn’t caused you any trouble at—” You grit your teeth when you feel his tail lift a corner of your skirt, the thick fur at the end tickling and caressing your thigh. “—at work recently.”

“Are you alright? You’ve got such a severe frown on your face.”

“Oh, I’m alright, I just—” You bite your lip as you feel Zhongli’s tail slowly slide between your thighs, the thick fur at its end tickling and teasing you. “I just can’t believe he’s taking so long. He’s not a neglectful man. Usually. Anyway! It was nice meeting you, Director Hu! I’ll catch up with you again sometime. Please tell me if Zhongli causes you any trouble!”

You hurriedly stride away, heading for a quiet corner of the harbour and as far away from prying eyes as possible.

“Zhongli!” You hiss, holding him under his arms and lifting him away from you. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Giving my beloved wife some much-needed attention,” he responds smoothly, his tail reaching for you once again. “I must make up for my past neglect,” he adds, in a tone that feigns regret. You snort, but your hands are occupied with holding him up and can’t stop his tail from causing further mischief.

“Not in public, Zhongli!”

“Hold me closer, darling,” Zhongli purrs. “It is a cold night out… and I’ve left my garments at home.”

You grudgingly hold him close again, rolling your eyes when you feel his tail slip under your skirt again. “For the love of Celestia, Zhongli, you’re not going to make me flash the entire harbour, are you?”

“I would never,” Zhongli responds, bringing his snout close to your face. His voice is a dangerous purr: “All dragons are protective of their treasure, and I am especially protective of mine.”

Damn it, you sigh, exasperated. This is what happens when your husband has had six thousand years to practise his lines. “I wish you’d just told me you wanted to stay home.” You grumble, gripping him tightly with one hand while you try to grasp his tail with the other. A childish game ensues, with Zhongli delightedly flicking his tail out of reach as your arm flails in a futile attempt to catch him.

“I didn’t want to stay home,” Zhongli says. You can’t see his face, but you wonder if he’s pouting. “I wanted my wife to see the stars.”

“Your tail is working harder than your eyes!” You retort. You let out a sigh of relief when Zhongli finally places his tail in the palm of your hand. “Have you had enough of teasing me yet, you incorrigible beast?”

“I’ve barely teased you,” Zhongli laughs. “Were you looking forward to more? Hm?”

“I…”

“Won’t you answer me, my wife?”

This is what I get for marrying the God of Contracts, you complain to yourself. Ruthless negotiator, driver of hard bargains, all around merciless god…

But when your grip on his tail loosens, and when you allow his tail to slip under your skirt again with not a single word of complaint, Zhongli hears your answer loud and clear.

“If you’ve had enough of the stars tonight, darling…” Zhongli’s voice trails off as his tail brushes the front of your undergarments, raising goosebumps on sensitive skin. It seems your dear husband is just as distracted as you are. “You should take me home. It is so bitterly cold out, and I know just how to warm you up.”

“It’s… it’s not cold out tonight at all…” You mutter, though your mind is far, far away from boring discussions of the weather.

“Indulge me,” Zhongli whispers, snuggling even closer to you.

And you do.

[slaymybreathaway]

Batwife (Bruce Wayne x Reader)

"The Batman" 2022

Warnings: mentions of nudity

Word Count: 776

Masterlist

"The city's favourite couple are saying 'I do' this morning at Gotham Cathedral. Billionaire Bruce Wayne and Oscar Winning actress Y/n L/n made their first public appearance as a couple nearly 3 years ago at the premier of y/n's movie The Gravedigger," one reporter said.

Every news station in the city waited impatiently outside the cathedral for them to emerge. It was the event of the decade, the closest Gotham would ever get to a royal wedding.

Just then, the newlyweds emerged from the Church. Y/n was wearing a simple silk wedding dress with colourful flowers adorned on the lace sleeves that covered her arms. Bruce was looking sharp in a black suit. The handkerchief tucked neatly in his breast pocket was a bright yellow. Many fans speculate that the burst of colour was added by his new wife, the actress being famous for her making block colours fashionable again.

As soon as the doors of the Cathedral were opened, they were bombarded with flashing cameras and intrusive questions.

"Y/n, many speculate you are marrying for money," one particularly pushy reporter asked.

Bruce tried to get his new wife to ignore this statement but y/n turned around and spoke straight into his microphone. "I'm more than capable of making my own money, thank you," she said and followed her husband into the wedding car.

♡ 5 years later ♡

Y/n Wayne sat in living room watching, no studying the news. Every night she did the same, waiting for the headline she dreaded 'Masked Vigilante Found Dead'. Thankfully it hasn't happened yet.

Then, Alfred brought her a cup of coffee. "Here, I assume you won't go to sleep until Master Bruce comes home," he smiled slightly.

"Am I that readable?" she asked and took the cup "Anyways will you tell me when he does get home, please?"

Alfred agreed and y/n went back to watching the news.

An hour later, y/n was on the verge of falling asleep when Alfred came back in. "Master Bruce has arrived," he announced.

Y/n yawned. She got up, put on her robe and got in the elevator down to what her husband called the 'bat-cave' but she referred to it as the glorified basment.

When the elevator stopped y/n could see Bruce writing down the nights events.

"Dear Diary, it's Halloween today and I had to dress up like a bat. All the other kids made fun of me and stole my candy," she joked and walked over to him.

Bruce smiled "I told you not to wait around for me anymore honey," He closed his notebook and brought her face to kiss him.

She watched as he took out his camera contact lenses and placed them on the scanner.

Y/n knew that he wouldn't listen to her properly while watching the footage of tonight so she decided to mess with him.

"I went to a Halloween party tonight,"

"Mhm, that's nice honey. What did you wear?" he asked, not really caring about the answer.

"Barely anything," y/n whispered in his ear.

No reaction whatsoever came from Bruce's face, he replied with another automated answer "Great, hope you didn't get too cold,"

Y/n crossed her arms in frustration. "You should've came. To the party, I mean. If I attend another social event alone people will start to rumour your death,"

"Well, it seems like crime never ends in this city," he said, his head still stuck in the monitors.

"Yeah but marriages do," y/n mumbled.

Bruce broke out of his trance and turned to face his wife. "What?"

Y/n's expression broke into a smile. "The fact that I had to mention divorce for my husband to even make eye contact with me,"

He sighed "I'm sorry, my love. It's just, this thing," he gestures to the screen.

"Maybe I can help?" y/n asked, already knowing the answer. Bruce didn't want her involved in the whole 'Batman' thing because she worries enough about him without her knowing the amount of danger he really is in.

"C'mon, with most women, if their husband stayed out half the night and comes back with eye makeup on then he's cheating. My situation is... A little different. Just, please let me help you," she looked up at him pleadingly.

He sighed. "Alright come here," he wrapped his arms around his wife as he showed her the 'He lies still' card.

[eluxcastar]

This is so silly: Fatui Harbingers receiving a bouquet of flowers from their shy s/o?

Harbingers receiving a gift from their s/o

── ୨୧：harbingers x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: it's exactly what's written on the tin but with a side of me being off my head again

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader

୨୧﹑words :: 950

I'm so in love with the requests that let me answer them like a crackhead. but also I'm so sorry to the anons who want me to be serious I've just got the sillies. I spent the entire time calling it a pot until I realised the thing I was actually referring to is a vase and had to go back and change it all

if you're wondering where the shy part went, it was lost to this phenomenon called "I can't read" and by the time I realised it said that I was already done. I feel like this is the second time it's happened.

Alright usual order Tartaglia first. I'll be honest; I have no clue. Like, I literally left his here just saying, "Alright usual order", because what the FUCK would he do. He doesn't seem like a flower person, but also it being his s/o changes that so much because his s/o might make him a flower person. You could guess his favourite colour is yellow and suddenly it's yellow because he's so normal for you. He didn't even like flowers, but omg, you got him flowers. These are his new favourite flowers ever kinda thing.

Next is Arlecchino (more food is coming I promise), and tbh, I feel like she'd enjoy receiving flowers. It's not an overly flashy gift, and it probably took a lot for you to go out of your way to get that for her, let alone give it to her. She appreciates that you would get her a gift at all because receiving gifts feels nice sometimes. You can have a kiss for your flowers.

Third would be Pantalone, whose I kinda answered. Flowers are a gift, and honestly, I love the idea that as long as the gifts have sentimental value, that's what he'll treasure the most. He's gonna display those in his nicest vase for people to see. Why would you be nervous about that? The thought of what people think of them? No need. Nobody critiques his decor and means it. They know better.

La Signora would appreciate them, but they gotta be nice, yk? And like, you've gotta pay attention. There's no point if you just get whatever's available. Does she like those kinds of flowers? Do they smell nice? Compliment their surroundings? It's in the details that say you care because, to her, it means you were paying enough attention to consider it for what is a very standard gift for many people.

I did Scara then realised I forgot Sandrone omg anyway flowers, she would love those in her own silly little way. They're nice, and it's so cute that you went to the effort that she might just smile at you. She's 100% gonna keep those to herself and just stare at them for a while because someone got her a gift (this basically never happens) (if it did who the fuck are they?? unimportant 🙄)

Aight we got Scaradouche. Firstly no way this man is going to let you immediately know you got him a gift he likes. Flowers? That's such a girly present to give someone 🙄🙄 (They'll be in a pot on his dresser within the hour). He wouldn't usually want flowers, but since you already went and got them, he'll just have to. Just a little, I think he'd be losing it on the inside, kinda like when someone says they're so normal about something, and you know they're fucking lying. Like that

I totally missed Pulcinella last time, so he can get some flowers now. Honestly, I can see why I forgot him. I probably intended to do him but didn't have an idea and was like, "I'll come back to it", then got hit with this thing called filthy liar syndrome. Old people like flowers so he'd be happy with that, something nice to add some colour to a room or something Idk I'm not old (I'M SORRY I'LL BE SERIOUS). Some of you have no grandfather OR father you just like me fr so I'll throw in for y'all that he'd be proud of you for picking out such a nice gift and acquiring it of your own accord (which you are capable of) because it must've been difficult to get past the initial conversation starter problem.

Already off that train, we're finally at Capitano. I can't say for sure cause he has two lines but tbh, he seems like he'd like it. You can have a nice pat on the head and everything cause aww you went to all that effort just for him? That deserves a nice cuddle ❤️

Columbina thinks of it like anything else you do, more confused as to what the occasion is than anything and not very sure what provoked you to do this, but she accepts it and thanks you nonetheless because she still does like it. She just also wants to know what you're doing and why, but she's satisfied with the answer that you just wanted to and cuts you off before the apologies if she doesn't like it.

What the fuck did you get Dottore flowers for?? Like, what would he do with them?? That's awkward. He'll take them off your hands, but after that, he kinda just 🧍 because what else does he do? He can look at them and sit them somewhere, but like they have no purpose. The effort is nice. He probably doesn't want these again tho unless he can use them for something. You'll get a thanks, but like he's kinda bad at hiding that he's got no idea what to do with it. Get him some flowers that are useful rather than decorative maybe?

We are at Pierro, and I think it's a bit of a mix. On the surface, he may seem like he doesn't want them and only accepts them to save your feelings but secretly treasures them ❤️ I like the idea of him being sentimental toward his s/o because something about it is just cute. It also matches the vibe, like, he's got a very closed-off exterior that you are used to that's meant to hide that adorable and undeniably vulnerable interior that really, really loves you and all of the things you do for him.

[sluttyminghao]

everlasting love | k.mg

♡ pairing: kim mingyu x afab!reader ♡ w.c.: 3k ♡ genre: friends to lovers, smut, fluff ♡ this fic contains: domestic!mingyu, shy to confident reader, mingyu takes you to a dog park, friends to lovers trope, mingyu gets horny over a thong, unprotected sex (reader is stated to be on the pill), big dick mingyu, mentions of reader passing out after orgasm, mingyu sucks on readers tits ♡ synopsis: mingyu wants you to know how much he loves you after dropping hints for years, and takes you on a date you'll never forget, and maybe you'll also figure out you love him too. ♡ a/n: part of the svthub spring series! you can find all the other wonderful fics here, take a read and stroll through the garden!

“Mingyu, why are we at a dog park? Neither of us even has a dog.”

“Because we can pat the dogs that are here, silly! It’s a great way to kill an hour or so.”

You chuckle and watch as he runs in front of you, before squatting down in front of the first dog approaching him. It’s small in stature and black in colour and looks like a toy poodle at first glance. As you walk closer and bend down beside him so the dog can sniff your hand, you can hear him talking to the dog in a cutesy voice that has you cringing externally, but melting internally.

For as long as you had been friends with Mingyu, which if you remembered correctly was about 7 years, there had always been a small part of you that had fallen head over heels for the tall, tanned man. You kept it buried down inside you as deep as it would go, and promised yourself it would never, ever come up.

You just hoped that it wasn't obvious in any aspect, because you were sure you’d shrivel into a ball if he knew your true feelings.

“Over here! There’s a whole bunch of dogs wanting their bellies rubbed!” Mingyu’s voice floats into your consciousness and you quickly stand and jog over to where he was now laying stomach down on the grass, rubbing the belly of a dalmatian. You wanted to scold him for rolling in the grass in a white shirt and light-coloured jeans, but he looked so cute that you didn’t have the heart to tell him.

“Quick! Take my picture!”

Mingyu’s excited voice makes your heart skip a beat as you pull out your phone and snap a couple of pictures, which you were sure he’d upload to his Instagram later. Mentally, you were kicking yourself for having your feelings for him bubble up like a boiling pot on a stove. It’s not like he would like you back anyway, he could have literally anyone he wanted.

But little did you know, the only person he wanted was you.

From the moment he laid eyes on you all those years ago, he couldn't picture his life without you in it. Every night, he dreamed about every inch of you, how the perfume you use makes his heart race and how he wants nothing more than to push you against a mattress and make love to you.

The only thing stopping him from confessing was that he didn't want to ruin your friendship. It was the best thing in his life and if you rejected him, he wouldn't know what to do with himself.

“Oh, look at how pretty these flowers are!”

Mingyu is drawn immediately to your voice, his head snapping up and abandoning his spot on the ground with the dogs to find you crouched over some shrubs a few feet away. He’s not sure what kind of flowers they are, but you seem pretty invested in them.

“What are they?”

“They’re called Zinnias, I love how bright they are… they’re my favourite flowers.” You ramble, letting your hand brush over the petals of a bright yellow zinnia gently. Mingyu watches as you observe each flower, take some photos and a couple of selfies before finally standing up and looping your arm through his.

He feels his heart jump into his throat at the sudden closeness of you, but brushes it off as you lead him to walk along the path full of different flowers and shrubs. Mingyu observes you strolling and watches as you stop to pick some daisies, peonies, and other various types of flowers. He thinks it’s so cute.

“We should make flower crowns!” You squeal with excitement as you place the various flowers into a container and place them in your backpack, slinging it back over your shoulder and sliding your hand into Mingyu’s again. You give him a reassuring squeeze and he thinks he’s died and gone to heaven, but is quickly dragged back to Earth when he almost runs into his car.

How did you guys get back to his car so quickly? He swears you were still in the park 30 seconds ago.

You giggle at his clumsiness and climb into the passenger seat, eagerly waiting for him to hop into the driver's side. He follows suit and turns the key in the ignition with ease, before driving slowly out of the car park and out onto the busy streets.

“So, do you want to go out for dinner or just do something at home?” Mingyu asks, diverting his attention to you as he slows the car to a stop at a red light. You hum and rest your head in the palm of your hand mulling over the options. Mingyu was a very good cook, so it wasn't a hard decision to make, but you still wanted him to think it was a hard decision.

“Can we just go back to your place and have some ramen? I’ve been craving it for literal weeks and no one cooks it like you do.” The grin on your face makes him melt inside as he nods and makes a U-turn to head to his apartment, hoping he’s got all the ingredients to make you the best ramen ever.

As soon as he turns into his driveway, you’re already taking off your seatbelt and skipping inside, either to change into his clothes or start getting ingredients ready for the ramen. He’s kind of hoping it’s the former, but he’d be happy with either scenario considering how domestic they both were.

He walks inside and closes the door with a soft thud, placing his keys on the hook and toeing his shoes off onto the doormat. As he walks further into his apartment, he notices you’ve already turned the heater on, the tv is set up with Netflix, and your pants are on the floor. He grins and picks them up off the floor, placing them over the back of the couch before attempting to find where you had gone to.

When he walks into the kitchen, he feels as if his jaw might fall off.

You’re standing in the middle of the kitchen, grabbing all the ingredients you would both need. His eyes can't help but gaze over your body, widening when he notices you’re not wearing any pants at all. He thought that maybe you had changed into a pair of his sweats, but no, you’re standing there in only your pink thong and jumper.

He feels his cock twitch.

“Uhh…” His voice makes you stop and turn to face him, grinning from ear to ear. You take quick steps over to him and pull him by his forearm to come into the kitchen and help prepare the ramen. You knew what you were doing, teasing him by exposing basically everything from the waist down, but you couldn’t hide your feelings for him much longer, especially after today.

“Come on, let’s make some ramen!” Your voice grows whiny and he feels his cock twitch again, wondering how you would sound with his cock sheathed deeply inside you. He shakes his head and grabs one of the ramen packets, emptying it into the pot of water and turning the stove on.

You move to sit on the countertop, legs slightly spread so he can see the small wet spot that's begun to form on your thong. He doesn't pay much attention at first, focusing on placing all the ingredients in the pot and then going to grab the salt and pepper from the cupboard.

As he turns around from the cupboard, he almost drops the salt and pepper shakers at the sight of you; legs spread and jumper riding up your midriff, exposing a small sliver of your abdomen. He swallows harshly at the sight of the damp spot on your underwear and has to place the shakers on the counter before turning to properly face you.

“I… uh…you look really good right now,” his stutters have your confidence growing, and as a boost of confidence shoots through you, you feel the need to remove your jumper, exposing your matching lacy bra.

“I think you would look pretty good too if you removed your shirt and pants, we could match.” A giggle escapes your throat as you see the flush cover his cheeks and ears, hands quickly going to remove his shirt and tossing it to the side. Without a second to waste, he’s also removing his pants and leaving him in his boxers with a half-hard erection.

You lick your lips and spread your legs further, inviting him to come stand between them. He obliges and lets his hands hang loosely over your hips, his lips brushing yours only slightly enough to have goosebumps covering your skin. Everything feels so close, yet so far. What happens now?

“I love you, Mingyu.”

The words have his eyes widening, and even though your words are sentimental, you feel his cock twitch against your thigh. His eyes dart to where the ramen is slowly cooking away on the stove, knowing he doesn't have very long before the noodles will be ready.

“I love you too.”

He presses his lips delicately to yours and feels your arms sling over his shoulders. You can feel his rapid heartbeat against your chest, and it makes you feel so good knowing that you’ve made him feel this way. Every single touch he gives you, every slight graze along your skin, has it burning a trail that doesn't leave your mind.

You can feel yourself getting soaked by the second, Mingyu’s magic lips working deftly against your own and his tongue licking along the seams of your mouth. You can tell he’s holding himself back, and you need to let him know that it’s okay to let go.

“M-Mingyu-” your voice comes out breathily and has him groaning into your mouth before he’s reluctantly pulling away. At this point, he has a raging hard on and the wet spot on your panties has doubled. He stares at you, pupils black with lust and a small smirk on his lips, his fabric-covered cock pressing against your panty-clad cunt, only soaking you more.

“The noodles, Gyu, we need to move them off the stove,” you giggle, one of his hands reluctantly pulling away from your supple skin to fiddle with the nobs before eventually turning off the stove. Without a word coming from him, he turns back to face you and easily picks you up off the countertop, swiftly moving you to the couch you had set up earlier.

“I need to fuck you, but I don’t have a condom.”

“I’m on the pill, don’t worry about it.”

His eyes gleam with want and he feverishly presses his lips back to yours again, his hands moving to your back to fiddle with the clips of your bra. He removes it within a few moments with relative ease, sliding the straps off your shoulders and exposing your nipples to the cool air. 

He licks his lips at the sight of them pebbling up and immediately ducks his head down to wrap his lips around one of them, one of his hands teasing the other. His tongue feels rough against your skin and only drives you crazy. Your hands are in his dark locks, tugging against them as if your life depends on it.

“So fucking beautiful, can't believe I waited this long to confess and see this,” Mingyu mumbles against your skin, feeling his cock strain impossibly harder against the fabric of his boxers. He knows he probably has a pre cum stain on the front, but he could not give a shit with how good you look and feel.

With his mouth still wrapped around your tit, he reaches a free hand down to mindlessly rub your clit through your thong. Your grip on his hair tightens as he circles the bundle of nerves quickly, and your stomach begins to bundle up in pleasure.

“Mingyu…I ne-need you to fuck me.”

You don't have to ask him twice. Before you can say another word, he’s pulling off your nipple and practically ripping your panties in half. As you open your mouth to complain about your favourite thong being ruined, he shimmies his boxers down and exposes his girthy cock to you.

Your jaw drops open at the sight of him. You knew he had to be big, given his tall stature, but he was bigger than you had imagined. His girth was also much larger than you had been used to in the past, and while it slightly scared you, you also couldn't help but be extremely turned on at the same time.

“Have you got lube?” He asks, and you point to a small cupboard in your room where you kept all sorts of goodies like lube and your toys. He chuckles as he paws through the cupboard, and you roll your eyes, knowing he’s still a child at heart even though he’s about 30 seconds away from sheathing himself inside of you.

Moments later he comes back with a black lube bottle and pours a small amount onto his palm, before chucking the bottle next to you on the couch and pumping himself slowly with the lube, a low groan bubbling from his chest. You feel a new wave of arousal flood your body at the sight of him. How had you not jumped his bones years ago?

“Are you ready?” He asks, adjusting his body so that he’s hovering over you, while your legs are wrapped around his waist. You nod and let your lips press to his hungrily again as he begins to slide the fat head of his cock into your entrance. You whine at the sting and feel tears well up in your eyes. 

Even though he’s hardly pushed half of his cock into you, you can already tell he’s a very attentive lover. He kisses away your tears as he thrusts his hips further into you, holding you as close as he physically can while he sheaths the rest of his girthy cock inside you. Once he’s bottomed out, you both let out a sigh of relief and he peppers your face with kisses, praises flowing from his lips with every kiss.

After a few moments, you squeeze around his cock and he groans, before beginning to move slowly. He can feel your walls pulsating around him, and he’s certain he won’t last long if you keep it up. He plants his arms on each side of your head and starts thrusting a little faster, cock twitching when your boobs begin to bounce a little with each push inside of you.

“F-fuck…god, mingyu!” Your voice is like heaven to his ears as your mind turns to mush, any coherent thoughts you had flying out the window with how well he’s fucking you. Your moans and whimpers are sending him over the edge, and as his orgasm begins to peak, his hips start an extreme pace, groans and whimpers filling the room and your sweat colliding with each other. 

Your own orgasm isn't far behind Mingyu’s, and you feel yourself toppling over the edge with a loud cry when he lets the rough pad of his thumb bump roughly against your clit, rubbing harshly until your thighs clench around his hips and your back arches off the couch while stars dance across your vision.

It takes a while for you to come down from your high, and you don’t even realize that Mingyu has already gotten up and started cleaning you up with some tissues and wipes. You have a stupid smile on your face as you look down to see Mingyu sliding a pair of his sweats up your thighs, which he mirrors when he realizes you’ve come back to earth.

“Hi, darling, are you feeling okay?” The pet name has your cheeks burning but you nod regardless, reaching a hand out to comb through his hair softly. He leans into your touch, sighing softly at the contact, before he’s standing up and grabbing a shirt and placing it over your head, moving your arms to get them into the arm holes.

“So, I figured what we could do tonight is eat ramen, watch shitty television series and make flower crowns with those zinnias and other flowers you picked earlier, how does that sound?”

“That sounds perfect, Mingyu.”

“And you know, I actually did a bit of research on the zinnia flowers, and they actually have an interesting meaning.”

You quirk your brow, not even knowing that zinnias, let alone flowers, had meanings behind them. You urge him to go on, and he quickly pulls out his phone to show you what he had found through his research. You find yourself tearing up at the meaning behind them and bury your head in his shoulder.

“The meaning I like the most is that it stands for everlasting love and affection, but also for endurance and daily remembrance. So, from now on and every year on this day, I am going to bring you a bouquet of zinnias to remind you of my everlasting love for you.”

[ravers8fantasy]

🎶Disco kid headcanon's!!🪩

Honestly, one of the realest ones in all the circuits I fear...

ALSO HE IS 20 AND 6'3??? I thought he was 19...

Okay so turns out bro is 20 so I think he joined when he was 18 or 19

Sings proper flipping loudly in the shower, its a good thing he's good at singing

Will listen to anything, he is more of a melody person than a lyrics person

Has a drawer full of listening devices, he has like 5 pairs of headphones and so many speakers

Had a swag era in highschool (is still kinda in his swag era but remix)

Sometimes shows up to W.B.V.A meetings in full on 70s attire for fun. Im talking silk shirt and high waisted l bell bottoms

Usually catches everyone off guard as well since they are used to seeing him in more modern outfits (im basing these hcs around 2009 and perchance 2010s idk they change on my mood)

Can handle spicy food pretty well.... Even though he ate a singular taki one time and perished

I saw in his contender mode intro cutscene that his licence plate is custom made (its DISCO-1) which made me think he decorates his car

Like he has a pair of fuzzy dice hanging off the mirror in the front, has like stickers on the dashboard and has like custom made seats-

Also theres this nice looking house in the background with this music note gate, either he is rich or his parents are rich

Or is that normal for people in America to have a house like that, I live in an old af house in Scotland so I defo wouldnt know💀

His favourite color is blue, or pink, or mabye yellow and orange but then again he is a sucker for kitsch patterns-

He loves colour. Ik his ass would HATE to see maximalist antique homes turned into an all white sleek mininalist abyss

Is a beast at roller skating, has a pair of blue and yellow ones with little stars all over.

Hates roller blading tho he says 3 he cant dance properly in them which makes him sad

His hair is originally brown, saw someone at a party with buzzed bleached hair and thought it was so cool he decided to get the same thing

Does calisthenics, has been asked a bunch of questions by other boxers asking him how tf he does it

HATES furbies, had one when he was younger and he put it in a draw in his bedroom after it didnt shut up.

He woke up in the middle of the night to a voice asking to be fed and started crying, turns out it was the flippin furby inside the draw

Has the most perfect comedic timing ever, there is never a dull moment when your with Disco kid

Suprsingly doesnt mind horror films, his fave genre list would probably go 1.horror/thriller 2.Action 3.drama/romance

He was a tumbler in his high school's cheer team and did ballroom for a bit, has a bunch of trophies from cheer and competitive ballroom dancing

Loves going down to a deli and getting a sandwich, usually gets a new filling combination everytime he goes

Has the most amazing wardrobe out of all the boxers, I like to think he is like the 'lewis hamilton' of the W.B.V.A (in terms of style not boxing bless also YALL LEWIS HAMILTONS FASHION SENSE IS SO😼😼😼)

The type of guy who never shuts up when watching a film, he literally ends up narrating the whole thing

Literally never stops moving, if he is standing on the spot he will be tapping his foot or move his head to whatever beat is playing in his head

Also like as no beef or issues with any of the other boxers, some of them (Aran... Wait and perchance idk Soda and stuff yknow) might insult him and would just dance and say "ok! Thats your opinion, Not mine though I think im fabulous anyway"

Chat im giggling at this gif anyway if you see any mistakes in grammer please embarass me and call me out and I will correct it with the utmost haste😼

OK HOPE YALL ENJOYED GOODNIGHT (or good morning or uh good day or evening depending on where u are)

[tigreblvnc]

YOUR LIFE IN BLUE LOCK — @soleilonthesun

BACKGROUND HEADCANONS;

♤ You were probably invited by Ego, “We need a few calm and collective people to act as natural leaders. Even in Blue Lock, structure is needed.”

♤ So you were scouted for your level headedness on field and overall encouraging vibes :D

♤ I believe you accepted just because you were interested, and were excited to explore a new environment anyway

♤ During Ego’s whole speech, you had to make a decision. It was either risk your future to reach your true goal, or fall back and continue to live in our mundane society.

♤ Of course, your parents would advise you to take the latter. But this was your choice, wasn’t it? Entering Blue Lock would be your best chance at reaching your goal.

♤ After all, if you didn’t accept, it would take ten fold effort, and even more risks. If you didn’t accept, would you ever truly be happy with the path you set yourself on? You refused to live with that sort of guilt. So you vowed to win. To become the person you always wanted to be.

♤ To be someone who could be looked up to.

COLOR AURA;

♤ Lime Green

♤ #9cf569 (example, not necessarily exact)

♤ I KNOOWWW IT MAY NOT SOUND THE BEST- BUT LEMME EXPLAIN

♤ It’s a strong colour for sure, but of everyone I really do think you’re the only(or one of the few) person who could pull the colour off

♤ NO IT WOULD NOT LOOK LIKE FART- THATS NOT MY INTENTION CHAT U GOTTA BELIEVE ME

♤ Lime Green is NOT a colour you could ever ignore. I think it’s presence would be very indicative of yours on the field.

♤ Green means go right?

♤ The vibes, comfort, assurance, and encouragement you bring, it fits green.

♤ I spent quite a while deciding on this one. Green was one of the first to come to mind, but I was hesitant to finalize it (maybe it was the fart effect, im not sure) but playing around with the colour wheel, it really did seem best fitting.

♤ Green isn’t necessarily a loud colour, at least it doesn’t come first to mind when you think of one, but it certainly isn’t quiet, or easily look passed.

♤ Within the colours of pigment, Green isn’t actually a primary. But in the colours of light, it is. It’s the core of many other colours, and is needed to balance the others out.

♤ But it still isn’t usually considered a primary colour, due to its absence in pigment.

♤ And yet it’s still a lot of people’s favourite. The few Green likers I know are very passionate and dedicated, especially since there isn’t another colour that gives similar vibes.

♤ Lighter blues and purples often give the same vibe, majority of reds are still very red no matter how you tint it, etc. ♤ But lime green wouldn't be generalised

♤ If you break down the pigment, it is just blue and yellow. It’s an interesting blend, given that one is known to be incredibly energetic, and the other completely calm. Green’s a good blend.

♤ But yes, green.

TEAM SELECTION;

♤ Ubers! You want to advise the others on your team yes?

♤ Thatd be pretty hard if you were on a more… violent team- it could definitely work, but I think your teammates on Ubers would even ask for you opinion at points

♤ I think Ubers is a team that needs more structure, determination, and overall leadership.

♤ Nothing bad to Snuffy, but they’ve got incredibly good players(imo) (ex. Japan’s national defender, Japan’s Ace, one of bllk’s best strikers, and one of bllk’s best defenders) but I wouldn’t say they’re using them all that well… (pls no dox /j)

♤ In Uber’s you could advise(control) marjory of their players, using your imagination to throw together fun play plans.

♤ Ok yea Barou probably isn’t the happiest with it, but the rest of the team is more than eager to try something new!

♤ Playing with Ubers would also help with your weaknesses. Since they have an incredibly stable defensive line, you don’t have to worry or hesitate as much. Staying static and overthinking will eventually decrease as you learn to trust them on field.

♤ I won’t speak much about off field… Individually, Ubers is an interesting set of people…

♤ They wouldn’t bother you too much though (but Aiku will probably try-)

♤ I think overall, Ubers gives you a strong base to work with, allowing you to do what you’d please from there.

♤ + They probably would benefit a lot working with someone like u! So even if they aren’t necessarily your first choice, they’d probably throw in a good offer for ya ;)

BEST FRIEND;

✦ My dear dumb bunny.

✦ Admit it, you didn't see that coming!

✦ As soon as I saw the word "magic," I knew I had to pair you with the magician of the team.

✦ You two share much more in common than you might think. And as I like to say: I'm shocked that you've never noticed the resemblance between you and Ness all this time.

✦ You're so similar. Two big idealists, dreamers, poetic souls, both passionate about things that don't exist.

✦ You hit it off right away, from the very first day, the moment you joined the soccer club. I believe the saying "birds of a feather flock together" is true.

✦ Typically, you cry in each other's arms when you suffer a defeat, go through a hard time, or get overwhelmed with emotions. You're completely in tune with being hypersensitive, and you own it fully.

✦ I think that if Kaiser weren't around, Ness would spend his time glued to you.

✦ He just needs a little human warmth, poor thing.

✦ He needs a sun, not a winter.

✦ To life, to love.

RIVAL;

✦ And I hope you're catching my drift with this matchup.

✦ Aren't Ness and Noa the perfect opposites?

✦ Emotion versus cold logic.

✦ You're rivals in the sense that your ways of thinking and doing things are very contradictory once you're on the field together. But it's also quite a challenge for each of you.

✦ I also think you'd have had quite a bit of trouble with Noa regarding your place in a team where he's present. Luckily, that's not the case.

✦ Besides, I like to imagine that Ness struggled quite a bit during his years at the Bastard München club, with his way of being so opposite to what Noa represents.

✦ So yes, Noa is that intimidating coach who gives you a knot in your stomach before every training.

✦ But he's also a likely path for your future development.

✦ Will you seize the opportunity, or stay in your comfort zone?

✦ It's up to you, little sunshine.

POSITION ON THE FIELD;

✦ Midfielder.

✦ I think you do a great job of being a bridge between people. A human bridge, I mean.

✦ That is to say, you're skilled at connecting one person to another, and this also applies on the field.

✦ People can trust you to make passes that are both surprising and game-changing for your team.

✦ This is the true strength of this matchup: placing you as a midfielder gives you the chance to prove your worth. You can combine your creativity and imagination with the rational thinking of passing to the best player at a key moment in the match.

✦ It's this position on the field that will not only strengthen your value in Ness's eyes, but also counter Noa's belief that a creative, free spirit has no place in a high-level match.

© TIGREBLVNC 2024 | OCTOBER '24 MATCHUPS EDITION.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 35 (Parental Guidance)

A few nights after Malcolm's visit, Heather took Ash to see his grandparents at her childhood home in Henford. On arrival, she was greeted with the joyous news that Cassandra was expecting her and River’s first child!

She let her predicament take a backseat as the family sat down to dinner, and she didn't want to tell her parents she was seriously overthinking an old tale about a curse. But as she gathered the empty plates at the end of the meal, her mother could see something was bothering her. At Daisy's urging, Heather confessed what she'd done.

"I hacked into Landgraab Systems to crash the app they stole from me, and I thought I was going to be arrested."

"Arrested?! Buttercup, what the hell were you thinking?" Her dad, Neal, tried not to sound as disappointed as he felt.

Her brother, on the other hand, offered her a fistbump. "Right on! Screw the Landgraabs."

Cassandra shook her head, but couldn't wipe the smile from her face around her husband. "River, she could have gone to prison!"

"I know it was stupid," Heather insisted. "I told the detective the truth but the Landgraabs ended up not pressing charges. Not yet, anyway."

"What do you mean 'not yet?'"

"I mean Malcolm came by the other day and offered me a deal. He'll give me 40,000 simoleons for our son if I change his last name to Landgraab and file a custody agreement. They're also willing to let me buy out the clinic if I can come up with another 175,000. But they won't sell if I don't make Ash a Landgraab."

"That's a steep price," said Daisy cautiously.

"It's a steal from the Landgraabs," her father muttered, frowning. "We don't have that kind of money."

"You helped me with the down payment for the clinic in the first place. I don't know what to do but I won't ask you that."

Her parents exchanged careful glances. "You may not want to hear this, but you cost yourself a lot of leverage and the offer may be too good to turn down," said her mother. Her father nodded reluctantly in agreement, embracing his daughter with a comforting hug.

"I was hoping you wouldn't say that."

"You want independence from the Landgraabs financially, and this is a fair way to do it," reasoned her brother. "Besides, if Malcolm's finally ready to embrace his role as a father I think, deep down, you want that for your son, despite your own feelings about him. And why wouldn't you? We had a great dad; everyone should be so lucky! Ash, too."

Heather looked at her younger brother with a smile. "When did you get so wise?"

"You only think I'm wise because you're a butthead, Butts."

With her family’s support, she sent Malcolm the paperwork confirming their son was a Landgraab in name, and he transferred the lump sum payment as promised. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: I'm really sorry to those who didn't want Heather to change his last name, but I really wanted there to be a big consequence for the hack. I wasn't feeling a prison storyline and this is the next worst-case scenario. In my head she didn't have room to negotiate after the hack (the proof exists even if Conrad chose not to reveal it, but he's too honest a cop to delete the evidence) and it was an all-or-nothing deal.

NOTE 2: I know I'm loading this story with characters but Heather is so close with her family I can't leave them behind in Gen 1, even if I wanted to. Neal gave them their nicknames when each of them were born, like a tradition, picking various plants, mostly yellow, due to yellow being one of Daisy's favourite colours. But a quick rundown on Heather and her siblings-

Heather "Buttercup" Nesbitt b. 2025 - Ash (Nesbitt) Landgraab b. 2050 (son of Malcolm) Holly "Daffodil" (Nesbitt) Bell b. 2027 m. Kristopher "Kris" Bell (son of premades Michael Bell & Cecilia Kang) River "Huckleberry" Nesbitt b. 2029 m. Cassandra Goth Hazel "Dandelion" Nesbitt b. 2033 currently dating Nicola Moody-McMillan, the daughter of premade Kim Goldbloom and a random townie. Nicola's grandfathers were Kim's adoptive dads (via MCCC), Ian Moody & Derek McMillan but they died in a riverboat cruise disaster (off-screen because the game culled them unexpectedly).

Since I put dates in to show the age differences in the siblings, for those who care it's about 2051 in game right now. Heather is 26 and Ash is not yet 2. The year won't really mean anything, it's not a historical or futuristic challenge, but I like to keep track.

Also yes I'm going for sometimes-obnoxious sibset theming with names in this save. The theme in Gen 1 was flowers and plants (Daisy was a botanist but Neal achieved Outdoor Enthusiast so he's big into nature, herbalism and sustainability as an eco-civil designer). River got his slightly off-theme name because I wanted to use it, and the River Bagley IS a prominent feature in Henford, after all! But I'm sorry about all the H names, it's a lot!

Kris & Holly and Nicola & Hazel (who looks like Heather with blue eyes and w/o glasses), since River & Cass are above:

[laismoura-art]

Presenting my very own take on the Goddesses!

🌺Cetrion and Delia!☀️

The Goddess of Life, Light and Virtue and the Goddess of Sun and Bearer of the Eternal Flame!

For their dynamics:

They are good friends!

Though Delia ascended to Godhood and Cetrion was born a Goddess, Delia was still a Goddess longer than Cetrion (as Outworld is waaaaaaaay older than Earthrealm) so for a while, Delia played the role of mentor for Cetrion!

Cetrion was trying to become a better Goddess for Earthrealm than she was in her past life (she doesn't quite remember why she was bad, but she knows she was and is trying to atone), so any help and advice was welcomed!

And as the younger Goddess likes Delia, she naturally DESPISES Argus! The Sun God and the Light Goddess have a TERRIBLE relationship, often bickering and insulting each other!

Cetrion tries to be on her best behaviour for Delia, but it really doesn't help that Argus won't put on the same effort!

Cetrion used to like Amara, Delia's favourite mortal and good friend. But their relationship took a critical hit once the Sorceress had an affair with Argus. They barely talk nowadays, and things will only get worse now that Amara's son, Zeffeero, flooded the whole Kingdom of Seido💀

Now, allow me to ramble a whole lot about their designs! 👀 💚 ❤️

Starting with Cetrion:

Yes, I did redesign her head to toe😅

I REALLY love the idea of her being Mother Nature herself and I wanted her new design to show that she's fully embraced the tittle and is dedicated of making caring for all life in Earthrealm her true purpose!

So the main idea here is that she's a walking ecosystem, every part of her, from body to robes are an environment that carries actual fauna within them!

Her hair was inspired by my favourite brazilian tree, the pink Ipê! She can change her hair at will, to make it resemble all types of different trees, and you can always find birds, bees and butterflies flying around her!

Her robes are an actual ocean, and if you look closer, you may find a variety of fishes swimming in there! You can even attempt to fish one for yourself, but be careful not to fall in to the water!

Speaking of careful, her magma body is usually safe to touch, though she can make herself unbearably hot, to the point a simple touch can melt your skin!

Her freckles are stars she crafted but were not used in any galaxy design, but as she's very attached to her creations and didn't want to see these go to an waste, she decided to wear them herself!

The flowers on her belt and arm are... well, Cetrion flowers, they grow on her only and have medical properties. They are trusted to the her warriors only, more specifically, to her head healer, who is also the Grandmistress of the Order of Cetrion! (Harumi got to use them once she graduated as Umgadi warrior and proved herself worthy of the tittle of head healer)

Now for Delia:

I'll start by saying I wasn't feeling at all confident while working on her🫣

I genuinely don't like her canon design-- really, she probably has my least favourite design ever! She's hypersexualized to an extreme. Her skirt and veil are so vastly different that they just DON'T match at all, and her top is just offensive!

Like--

What in the ever loving heck am I looking at?? (ಠ_ಠ)

MK couldn't just screw her over by giving her a shitty husband, an evil son and death. They also had to give her an awful design!

*Sigh* anyways... despite my strong opinions on this design, I believed a couple alterations could make me like it better.

So for her I started my giving her whole attire ONE main colour, which is the dark red.

I get that her skirt was trying to emulate a flame with that gradient, except they also messed that one up cause guess what? In a flame, the lighter yellow/orange part -> 🔥 is on the bottom!

And let's be real, her whole design would've improved 110% if they had made the gradient go from red to orange, the skirt would match the top, it would properly emulate a flame and for once, the colours wouldn't look all over the place on her!

Now as Delia is a Goddess here I really wanted her attire to stand out and look alive and magical (much like Cetrion's) so instead of a common gradient, I gave her a whole living flame! It glows and moves inside her dress!

I also wanted a special thing for her jewelleries and details on the veil, so I made them the sun's surface :D they were fun!

And who would've guessed the sun would make such perfect jewellery, huh? Lol!

For reference, Suchin's Blessed Swords look like Delia's jewellery (but she doesn't use them yet, only when she grows up and take over the position as the family's vigilante)!

And Jade has a protection amulet like this too. She has had it with her since forever, but she just can't for the life of her, remember who gave it to her! Learning it might belong to Delia is what encouraged her to go seek answers among the Umgadi.

And for the final touch, the symbol on her veil is of the Umgadi!

Oh, hi! You made it to the end! :D

Before I wrap this all up, a huge thanks to @rasta-bot and her amazingly inspiring work on Delia and Edenia!!💕💕

And as always, my beautiful girlies, hope you enjoy the reading! @mikka-minns @thedragonholder @orbitinytheworld @madamealtruist @moody-bloos 💕💕

[oharamwah]

♡☆— a secret ? : your life-long partner has been keeping a big secret from you about his career. → 2.3k

read pt. two → it’s not a onsie

husband!miguel o’hara x fem!reader

contents : au!miguel, florist!reader, sliiiightly ooc (he never had gabi), slight gore? (i kinda just describe injuries miguel has),

posted july 22nd - to be edited !

© oharamwah , please do not steal my work

like any other day, you sat in your living room mindlessly listening to the tv blaring a brain frying romance reality show. you already ate dinner, though today you ate alone. despite the tv playing and the dishwasher running, the house was quiet.

‘he’s usually home by now, this is the fourth time this week.’ you thought.

your husband, miguel, worked at alchemax, the biggest scientific research company in all of new york. he was always so dedicated to his job, always giving it his all, but you are his wife. he always made time for you. you are his world. right?

##

new york, new york - 2089

6:03 pm : you run a small floral shop in new york right on the edge of broadway street. flowers are your favourite thing in the world — they’re so beautiful without even trying. you sat down, ready to take your first break of the day. a bad storm had hit the city the previous night and completely ruined your outdoor setup. what used to be a lovely arrangement of wooden shelves bathing in different floral collections you gardened became a mess of buckets, paper wrappings and loose flower petals. so, you spent the entirety of the day cleaning up and gathering the remains of your flowers.

you dusted your hands off on your apron and collapsed into your chair, a deep sigh following after. you closed your eyes and settled into relaxation, but suddenly..

door chime

your eyes jolt open. ‘seriously? the shop is open all day and no one comes in until now?’

you got up anyway. before your eyes at the entrance of the shop is a man. a tall man, nearly as tall as the door itself. he must’ve had to crouch to get in. he had messy brown hair, reddish-brown eyes, and a small scar on his left cheek.

you greeted him sweetly as he walked towards the counter and flashed a handsome smile, his canines slightly pointy. “evening,” he said politely, leaning one elbow on the counter. “i need a bouquet.” he said. duh. “well, you came to the right place,” you replied. “what kind of flowers are we looking for?”

the man thought for a second before sheepishly asking for advice.

“actually, they’re for my mother. i’m not very good at flowers or gifts, but it’s her birthday tomorrow.”

you gawk at this. ‘awww how sweet. does this mean he’s on the market??’ you thought. “oh, well, do you know her favourite colour?” you ask. “hm.. i know she likes pink. and yellow.”

you nod and walk past the counter, past the tall handsome man, and take a look around the shop. you come across a patch of pink dahlias and an idea pops into your head.

“might i suggest these lovely things? they make lovely centre pieces in assorted bouquets.” you say, your mouth curving into a smile as you make eye contact with the beautiful stranger. he smiles back. you hold up one of the flowers and he takes it into his hand, inspecting it as if it were some oddly creature — it was a flower. he rose the flower to his nose to smell it and his eyes closed in delight. he opened his eyes and looked into yours. ‘god his gaze is intense.’

“perfect.” he said with a small smile.

he had a certain look to him. not skeevy, not overbearing, he just looked good. now, not in an attractive sense (although that was definitely something that was on your mind) but in a human way — something about this man and his demeanour screamed “i’m a good man with a good heart who loves deeply.”

and at the time, little did you know, but the man thought nothing less of you. he knew for certain the second he saw you: that first visit to your floral shop would not be the last.

##

by the time miguel got home, it was already 4 o’clock in the morning. to say you were upset was an understatement.

yes, you were still awake, but only a little. you lay in bed scrolling on your phone as your eyelids weigh down on themselves, your brain fighting to keep them open. the idea of making sure miguel got home safe was the only thing keeping you up. and then, you hear the familiar sound of the door unlocking, followed by the kicking of boots and the dropping of a briefcase. miguel grunts.

in this moment you are livid. your husband has come home late in the past, yes, but never this late. before you know it, you’re on your feet again, awake as ever.

“miguel?” you call out as you leave the bedroom. the more you near the front door, the more you hear him panting. you get closer, and there he is. your husband is leaning against the wall, his scrunched up face showing nothing but pain. he has a few blood stains on his shirt, his hair is a disheveled mess, and the entirety expresses a deep exhaustion.

“oh my god, miguel,” you say in a sigh, rushing to him, your heartbeat picking up with every second. you grab onto his shoulders to support him from falling. “miguel, dios mío what happened to you??” you pleaded. “y/n,” he said in an exhale, “you should be asleep, my love.”

you couldn’t believe him. first, he comes home late. second, he’s clearly injured. and third, he’s completely ignoring the fact that he is injured.

“miguel..” he refuses to look at you. he can’t. “miguel look at me.” you say sternly, your voice slightly louder than normal.

miguel is convinced that in your entire marriage, and in the whole 11 years of you two knowing each other, you never raised your voice when you don’t have to. parties? sure. calling miguel down for dinner? of course. but when you’re upset with him? never.

miguel looks up at you, breathing heavily. his eyes are worn and weak. in this moment, he feels ashamed.

“what happened, miguel?” you said in a whisper, cupping his face in your hand. “who hurt you..” your other hand reaches his chest, his quick heartbeat along with the warmth of his skin seeping through his blood stained shirt. your faces were inches away, miguel could feel your breath on his nose. he only looked at you.

“miguel, please. talk to me.”

by now you were more desperate than upset with him. all you wanted was to make sure he was okay. you and your husband aren’t the kind to keep secrets from each other. anything and everything about yourselves, the other could recite the fact in their sleep. so what happened this time? what’s been happening this week to make miguel think he had to hide and come home at ungodly hours? let alone covered in his own blood?

you reached for the buttons of his shirt and slowly undid them, and what was revealed shattered you. miguel’s chest was painted with scratches, and one big gash right across the middle. he could only look down with embarrassment. it was hard for him to know you were seeing him in this state.

the most that’d happen to him at work is a small cut on his hand that he’d play off as a paper cut, or even red eyes that he’d blame on being around too many chemicals. he was your strong husband, your miguel who never felt any pain, or showed it. him being this vulnerable infront of you made his heart clench. he never wanted you to see, to know. but this was inexcusable. he knows today is the day.

“y/n,” he said, breaking his silence. “cariño.”

he looks at you, for the first time in what felt like hours.

“i haven’t been good to you, and i know that.” he admits. “and i know that i’ve been coming home late, and dismissing your concerns when i do,” he takes your hand and gently holds it. “miguel-“ you start, but he interrupts you.

“my love, i hope you know i mean well. i only want to be good to you.” he assures you, almost begging for you to hear him out.

“i know that baby but-“ “but today is different, i know.”

you’re at a loss for words. on one hand, you’re extremely confused; where on earth is he going with this? but on the other hand, all you want is to kiss him, clean him up and go to bed.

“mi reina, i haven’t been 100% truthful with you. about my job.” he states. “i..”

miguel pauses, trying to think of the tamest way to tell you the truth without sugar coating it. “you..?” you say, getting impatient.

“i’m not just a scientist at alchemax.” he looks at your lips and back into your eyes. “what, you’re a shitty hit-man too?” you say, half joking, half serious. ‘dios bueno is going on..’ you think. “no.” he says in a sigh, “no i’m.. i’m..” “what is it miguel please..”

and then he says it.

“i’m spiderman.” he looks at you.

“you know, that guy that’s always on the news?”

“oh.. you’re.. you’re… are you serious?” you let go of him. miguel nods. he isn’t surprised, he knew this wasn’t easy information digest.

the news stories didn’t exactly show is best side either. sure, he helped people, but he’s killed people too. out of malice? no, definitely not. but for the sake of the civilians? give or take a few. and miguel knew exactly what you thought of vigilante types.

“i just wish they didn’t hurt anyone at all,” he recalled you saying one evening. “this spider guy would be a lot better in my eyes if he just saved a kitty stuck in a tree once in a while.” to which miguel would get defensive and argue that “maybe he’s doing his best not to hurt them, honey.”

it all started to make sense.

“please let me explain.”

“explain..” you say in disbelief. “oh yeah take a minute to explain this huge secret you’ve been hiding for how long?!” you exclaimed. here comes the anger once again.

“y/n, please just hear me out.”

you look at his face, and then at his wounds, and suddenly you remember who you’re yelling at.

he was stupid to lie to you. really stupid. but you love miguel, you’ve loved him since you met him that one evening in ‘89. so you cross your arms and stay quiet.

“i wanted to tell you, my love. i did. and i should’ve. but.. you just don’t understand.”

“understand what, miguel?” you ask, so quietly you’re almost certain he didn’t hear. your heart hurts.

“i kept this from you to keep you safe.” he explained, and you scoff. he can’t be serious.

“miguel-“

“i know you, cariño. i know that if you knew, you would find a way to get involved and end up getting hurt. i could lose you.” he takes a step forward and reaches out for your waist, pulling you closer. you give in.

“i’m involved regardless, miguel. i’m your wife.” you explain, desperate to show him that you care. “we’re supposed to be a team, remember?”

you’re looking up at him with teary eyes, the same eyes that miguel fell in love with years ago. miguel’s got many weaknesses with you, but your eyes have proven themselves fail proof. the way you’re looking at him makes his entire brain go fuzzy.

miguel sighs. he knows you’re right. all of a sudden, his shoulders feel 10x heavier with all the guilt he’s carrying.

“you’re..” you pause. you have to think.

“you’re spiderman,” you whisper nervously, “but you’re my miguel first.”

miguel is taken aback by this. the anger he expected, but this? he did not prepare for.

“i don’t want you to feel as if you have to hide who you are.” you gently trace the scar on his cheek. “if this is who you are,” you say, gently touching around his injuries, “i still love you miguel.”

the weight on his shoulders is lifted. he knew you loved him, but the confrontation inevitably led him to think that might not last.

he sighs, “i just don’t want to let you get hurt, my love. i could never forgive myself if i did.” he looks at you longingly.

“if i promise to stay out of it,” you grab his hand, “to stay as far away from all the danger you face..” he gives you a sorry look. “would you just trust me?”

“i love you y/n, i do trust you. you are my entire universe and more.” his usually furrowed eyebrows are softened and his heartbeat had calmed down. “and i.. i’m sorry for not telling you. for making you feel like i don’t trust you. i really do,” he leans his forehead against yours. you can feel his breath again, but this time, it’s breaths of relief.

“i forgive you, miguel.”

his eyes are deep, but you’re close enough to see that his pupils dilate at the sound of your mercy. miguel felt his body regain strength, rejuvenating itself. he leaned in to kiss you softly, so soft in fear that if he was too rough then you’d crumble away and disappear. the kiss was gentle and loving, but the feeling that lingered after was begging for more.

your eyes remain gazing at only each other and you both smile wistfully.

“whaddya say we get you cleaned up and in bed,” you say, comfortingly rubbing his shoulders. miguel chuckles.

“only if you’re gonna help me,” he said, looking at you in a way that showed he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

you jokingly roll your eyes, smiling.

“lead the way, mi héroe.”

spanish glossary :

dios mío - oh my god

dios bueno - good god

cariño - my dear, sweetie, honey

mi reina - my queen

mi héroe - my hero