#bright yellow cube
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For the past year, I’ve been an artist in residence at the Marc Sleen Museum, a member of the Knalgele Kubus (bright yellow cube). After three years, the project is ending this month, and as a last hurrah all we got to make fictional covers.
I worked on Meisjes van Medusa during my time in the cube, and rode my bike for part of the commute there!
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Steve Harrington x fem!reader[4.3K] loosely based on the movie float, lifeguard!steve, a summer full of swim lessons. mentions of drowning, eventual smut 18+
SWIM LESSON SCHEDULE
LESSON #2
[Six Months Before]
Steve Harrington was standing in Tammy Thompson’s backyard, bumping his knuckles against Eddie’s as the boy approached with a bottle of Jack Daniel’s in his hand.
Eddie had dragged you out, brown eyes pleading as per, promising he’d score big at this party and he’d definitely buy you a burger and shake with his takings on the way home. Midnight, he’d said, swear it, he’d said. But the clock in Tammy’s moms kitchen was ticking towards one o’clock and when Eddie spotted Steve - and Jonathan Byers - out by the pool, you’d made the decision to hang back.
They were too close to the water, the lagoon shaped pool lit up in the night by an underwater glow, yellow-white spotlights that made sure you could see just how deep it was. There were some girls hanging close by, dresses and skirts rucked up their thighs and their shoes long lost as they dipped their legs into the bright blue water, pink lips around cherry vodka bottles and their eyes on the boys - a potential ride home in more ways than one.
“M’not gonna let you just fall into the pool,” Eddie had frowned when you’d told him you’d wait inside. “Who even does that anyway? You’re not wasted enough for that sweetheart.”
And you weren’t. Barely tipsy, actually.
But the pool took up most of the patio space and other people were drunk, stumbling around the yard and trying to dance to the music that came from the open kitchen door. The water was too much, too deep, too blue, too dark.
And Steve Harrington was too pretty and intimidating - but you didn’t tell Eddie that part.
Jonathan spotted you over Eddie’s shoulder and waved, smiling kindly before he said something that made Eddie’s eyes light up with excitement. And that was okay because Jonathan was quiet and sweet and always polite to you, commenting on the books he’d see you reading when he passed you in town and sometimes he’d bump into you during Eddie’s hellfire meetings, passing as he picked up his little brother.
Steve, you didn’t see as much. Only from afar, usually. He was quieter than he’d been in high school, crownless and a little softer around the edges than when you sat two rows behind him in Mrs Click’s class. But Robin had a lot of things to say about him, gentle ribbing that was always wrapped in a fondness anyone with eyes could see and for a while, you thought that maybe they were a thing until Robin had vehemently told you that they were everything but.
Platonic with a capital P, she’d told you, popping the last letter and hiding the burn in her cheeks.
But still, you knew he gave her rides to work before he drove himself to the pool, acting oblivious and almost uncomfortable when the hoards of freshman girls made a point to pick the loungers closest to the lifeguard tower.
Not that you’d ever seen such a thing. But Robin liked to poke fun and Eddie was a bigger gossip than the cheerleader he used to date during his sophomore year.
So really, you had once mused, there wasn’t really any reason to be so avoidant of Steve Harrington now. Except, once you finally admitted to yourself you had an awfully bad crush on him, that was excuse enough. He would nod and smile politely at you when he ran into you and Eddie around town, at the mall, in the crowds at parties. And on good days, you’d smile back, lips thin and tight in an overly polite grimace of some sort but neither of you attempted to make conversation with each other. Any awkward silences were filled by your mutual friend, Eddie talking loudly and animatedly about whatever topic came to mind, his curls and his laugh both big enough to patch over any uncomfortable silences.
So when a few minutes passed with you staring into your drink, watching the ice cubes melt into whatever concoction Eddie had handed you, you didn’t expect Steve to appear beside you. He was busying himself with the stack of beers on the kitchen counter beside you, but he cleared his throat all the same, unsure about it as he gained your attention. But he was looking at you, purposeful, as if his elbow softly knocking yours wasn’t an accident.
His gaze was still holding yours as he popped the cap off of a bottle of bud light lime, the cap hitting the floor. You blinked at him, eyes only straying for a second to see that Eddie was still out by the pool talking to Johnathan and some other guy you didn’t know. Brows furrowed, you turned back, lips parting to ask if everything was okay, because why else would Steve Harrington be looking at you.
But then he was talking, smiling sweet and kind and holding a little of that confidence you knew back in school. It was still there, that self assurance that he had years ago, but it was muted, a boldness that wasn’t quite dimmed but definitely softened. It made him seem even more intimidating, prettier with his messier hair and scruff along his jaw, his clothes less tight and pressed.
“You doin’ okay?”
You blinked again, wondering if he really was talking to you. But there was no one else around and you gripped your cup a little tighter, nodding before you could make a fool of yourself. “Me? Yeah. Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
Steve shrugged, smiling as he took a sip from his beer and he gestured out to the patio, to the pool and to Eddie who was grinning at you. “Just wondered why you weren’t coming out, that’s all. You’re normally glued to Munson.”
You scrunched your nose, cheeks warming because he wasn’t wrong, but the reminder of how close you usually stuck to Eddie made you feel younger, childlike.
“It’s not like… that,” you explained, although you weren’t sure why you were bothering. “Us. Eddie and I- it’s not like we’re together, or anything.” You immediately regretted your words, the explanation feeling thick and clumsy on your tongue and your neck was burning, heat creeping up along your jaw.
Steve was still smiling, grin hid behind his beer and his brows were raised. He looked amused, nodding as you stumbled around each word and when you frowned, gulping down your watery cranberry and vodka, he grinned wider. “Yeah, no-- I know,” Steve assured you. He shrugged, “still, thanks for the clarification. S’good to know.”
You never found out what he meant by that, if he was being funny or just friendly, if he was flirting and genuinely interested. A neighbour called the cops and Eddie grabbed you before they could come through the front door, boosting you up by the foot so you could both scramble over the back fence. Steve had left with Jonathan and his girlfriend Nancy, the three of them running to Steve’s car just as Chief Hopper started yelling at the drunk kids left behind and you hadn’t so much as glanced back at each other for fear of being dragged home in the back of a cop car.
The next time you’d spent any real time with Steve Harrington, well. You’d been sinking to the bottom of the lake.
You were standing by the closed gate of the community pool at seven am sharp, the obnoxiously large lock stopping you from entering - despite the rip in the chain link fence to your right.
You weren’t waiting long, even though you would’ve happily stayed on the other side of the lot for as long as required. The air was already warming, the scent of chlorine and leftover sunscreen surrounding you, mixing with the sound of the cicadas, the early morning sprinklers from the houses across the road. Then Steve was jogging towards you, one big hand clutching a rolled up towel and a set of keys and his cheeks were pink from his efforts, his sliders slapping on the concrete and he looked apologetic as he approached.
“M’really sorry, car had a flat,” he huffed. “Would’ve left earlier if I knew I was walking.”
It was harder to look him in the eye after last week. Once the initial fear that had a vice grip on you loosened - if only slightly - it was easier to become so aware of how close you’d been to Steve. A whole morning spent half clothed and wet, his hands on you at all times, gentle and guiding as he coaxed you to walk around the shallow end of the pool. He’d been nothing but a gentleman about it, professional at all times with his hands either in yours or bracing your arms, never straying anywhere they shouldn’t, even if you’d caught his eyes going just that, maybe once or twice.
You pulled at the collar of your t-shirt as Steve busied himself with the padlock, the air so much stickier now that he was close by. “It’s okay,” you told him. “I’m not in a rush.”
Steve snorted and it shouldn’t have been an attractive sound as it was. His eyes crinkled in amusement, mirth in them as he glanced down at you from under his lashes. He still looked soft from bed, hair mussed and a five o’clock shadow across his jaw that suited him too well. His lifeguard shirt was sunbleached and threadbare, the red shorts he wore smaller than his last pair, the material well above his knees. He was more sunkissed than last weekend, freckles on the bridge of his nose, cheeks stained a permanent blush.
“Was your first lesson that bad?” He asked.
You burned, not knowing what to say, not wanting to offend him, not when he was looking at you like that.
“No,” you squirmed. The lock was open now but neither of you moved. “I mean, yeah, but not— not as bad as I thought. It was okay.”
Steve grinned like he knew something you didn’t, nodding slowly as he held the gate for you. “It was okay,” he repeated back, “I’ll take it.”
The pool was as blue and as intimidating as the first week, the generator humming and the filter trickling softly as you walked around it, giving the edge a wide berth. If Steve saw you frown and the dark blue depths, he didn’t say anything. Instead, you both dropped your towels and bags on a lounger and the boy didn’t so much as blush as he stripped off his shirt, throwing it alongside everything else.
“You wanna get changed?” He asked, already busying himself with pulling some floats out of a shelving unit. “I’ll get everything sorted and you can—”
You were stripping off your own shirt before Steve could finish his sentence, the words getting stuck in his throat as you revealed the same old black swimsuit underneath your clothes. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen already, but you couldn’t help but feel flustered as you popped the button of your shorts, the denim dragging down your hips. You didn’t look at him as they slid off your legs, your feet clumsy as you tried to toe off your sneakers and step out of your shorts all at once.
Steve was pink, even if you didn’t see it, his whole body turning from you abruptly as he decided what else he might need to take from storage. A pool noodle fell to the floor as you bundled up your clothes and chucked them onto the chair, both of you decidedly not looking at each.
“Uh, right.” Steve dragged a hand through his hair, the soft ends immediately falling back across his forehead. He looked like he’d already caught most of the morning’s sun as he finally glanced at you, the tips of his ears a little pink. “Let's get started.”
—————
Your arms were crossed over your chest as you stood waist deep in the pool, partly for a little cleavage cover, mostly because you were cold. Your skin had prickled as you entered the water the same way as last time, step by step into the shallows, with Steve by your side. He didn’t hold your hands, but one of his hovered by your elbow the whole way down, ready to catch you if you stumbled, if you felt less than brave.
He murmured soft encouragement the whole way down, a new praise falling from his lips at each stair and when you made it onto the pool floor, he’d grinned.
“Look at you go, we’ll have you swimming lengths in no time.”
You couldn’t work out if he was joking or not, and the idea of going to the other end of the pool was enough to make your stomach churn, the lucky charms you’d shovelled into your mouth before leaving turning acidic. Still, you grinned - grimaced, maybe - and made a strange noise at the back of your throat. Steve thought it was supposed to be a laugh.
“Ha— yeah, sure, maybe in a while.”
So Steve just smiled and left it at that. Then he was wading a little deeper, the water moving from his upper thighs and soaking his shorts, the cherry red turning scarlet, a deeper colour that you couldn’t help but stare at and then the pool swallowed his lower body, the ripples catching around his hip bones.
He was facing you as he moved, arms out and hands coaxing, encouraging you to follow and when he saw the look of panic in your face, he stopped walking. “Hey, hey,” his voice was soft, just like the morning. It was all hazy skies, a blue-lavender fuzz and the trickle of water, the smell of chlorine and sunscreen and Steve Harrington’s wide, brown eyes. “Look, yeah? We’re not going any deeper than this, I promise. ‘N I’m right here.”
You remembered how you told him you trusted him, just seven days ago. How he’d told you in return that he’d come get you, just like he had before. It felt rude to question the man who’d once saved your life but still, you hesitated, arms still curled around your chest like you could anchor yourself to that spot.
But then Steve held out his hand, palm up and resting on top of the surface. The blue of the pool made his skin look even more tanned, sunkissed and glittering with droplets of water, beads of it sliding off of his forearm, pooling in the middle of his hand. He wiggled his fingers at you.
You didn’t even know you were reaching out to him until his hand curled around yours, bigger and wider and warmer despite the way you were still adjusting to the colder temperature. The sticky heat of the morning air didn’t do much for the large pool, the water still nipping at your skin as you moved through it.
“There you go,” Steve praised, smiling wide and earnest as you took a step. “There she is, ladies and gents, Hawkins next high diver—”
You scoffed, eyes rolling and cheeks sore when you grinned, unable to help it. But you were still moving, baby steps towards Steve and the gasp that left your lips as the water crept up towards the line of your belly button was due more to the cold than the depth.
Steve held your hand tightly, a solid grip, your own kind of anchor.
“Alright, see?” He was beaming, eyes squinting through the rays of the sun that bounced off the surface and he was too pretty with it, painted in the reflections of the ripples and stripes of rainbow. “You did it, you’re killing this.”
You didn’t point out that you hadn’t technically done any real swimming yet, but the fact you were standing further into the pool than you were seven days ago felt momentous. Eddie had spent countless summers trying to even coax you inside the property line, sunscreen smeared on his nose and pleading in his eyes.
“You still trust me?” Steve asked, eyes bright and earnest and god, it was impossible to say no. So you nodded, throat feeling a little thick and the words lost behind your teeth but you did and you meant it. And that only made Steve smile wider. “Good. We’re gonna practice floating, okay?”
The idea of it made your chest feel heavy, a sure fire sign that it wasn’t going to go as well as Steve had planned. Letting the water take control of your weight seemed impossible and the task of taking your feet off of the solid tiles at the bottom of the pool was nightmare inducing. But Steve was moving closer, his hand still in yours and his free one grazing your spine. His fingertips skimmed over your back, guiding you in front of him and turning you to the side as he spoke the whole time.
“It’s easy, right?” He explained, your shoulder brushing his bare chest and you tried not to think about it all too much, tried not to panic despite the way your heart was thundering so hard it was a wonder Steve couldn’t hear your ribs rattle and crack. “M’gonna help, I won’t let you go, I promise. You just gotta let yourself lie back, just a little. I’ll help you do the rest.”
You laughed at him, his words, his positivity that was brighter and warmer than the whole of June and July. It was a gasping, mocking thing, a laugh that got stuck in your throat and the mere suggestion of letting your body fall backwards into the pool was enough to make your eyes dart for the safety of the stairs.
“I— I can’t. I can’t do that,” you told him, eyes wide and head shaking furiously. “That’s just— no. I can’t. I’m sorry.”
Maybe you tried to move away, to take a step towards the shallow edge of the pool, or maybe you only imagined you did. Because Steve’s hand was flat against the curve of your back and his palm nearly took up the whole god damn space there. His fingers curled around your own, his thumb running over the bumps of your knuckles. Steve bent a little, knees folding under the water to bring his face down level with your own and he looked so serious when he said:
“Hey, listen, alright? I know it’s scary. But I promise you, I won’t let you go. You’re not going to go under.” He licked his lips, eyes searching yours for signs of panic, fear, flight. “I won’t let you go under the water, I swear.”
So you stayed, rooted to the spot but there nonetheless. And with a jerky nod, Steve’s hand squeezed your own and he moved into you. You felt his knees bump under your thighs, rough with coarse hair and lined with more muscle than you had, his hips bumping against the side of you. Suddenly the water didn’t feel as cold as before, the sharp chill of it gone.
“I just want your to bend your legs, okay? Just a little and then let your feet come up. M’gonna support your back. And remember, you can stand here, yeah? S’not deep, you can stand right back up.”
You mumbled something, confirmation maybe, a curse perhaps, aimed at Steve or Eddie, you weren’t sure. You about your friend who was probably still in his bed, face down and oblivious to the situation he’d once again coaxed you into. But you also remembered how he’d been knee deep in the lake as Steve pulled you out, eyes wide and terrified as he prepared to throw himself into the black water to find you too.
You lifted one foot, a mere stretch onto your toes, really, but Steve hummed in approval and his hand pressed into your back a little more, a silent promise that he was still there to catch you.
One foot came off of the pool floor.
“Thatta’ girl,” Steve whispered and he was close. So close, close enough for the words to feel warm against your temple and you could feel his gaze on the side of your face, watching, waiting. “I’ve got you.”
Another foot came off the tiles.
You dipped, just a little, just for a second, your shoulders submerging and a shocked gasp ripping from the back of your throat before Steve’s hand on your back was pushing you upwards. You tried to fight it, legs kicking awkwardly until Steve was pushing you again, upupup, and your body broke out of the water, shoulders and back and butt flat against the top of the surface.
“Keep your legs out straight,” Steve instructed, “let me take your weight, breathe in and out, keep calm.”
It all seemed too much to do at once.
Your hand was a vice grip around Steve’s, but he didn’t seem to mind. He was watching you, gaze studious and gentle, nodding almost to himself as you tried to do as he told you. Your legs straightened out and stopped kicking, the warm air kissing your shins above the water, your chest shuddering as you sucked in a breath.
“Uhuh, that’s it. Now just lie back for me, s’alright, I’ve got all of you.”
You choked out a laugh, a cynical sound and Steve’s eyes found yours. You were shaking slightly as you tried to relax, trying to drop your shoulders back into the water. “All of me? You been hitting the gym, Harrington?”
The joke was weak sounding, especially when your lip wobbled too but Steve grinned all the same. The hand on your back moved down a little, settling in the curve there, just above your ass.
“Thanks for noticing,” he replied softly, a teasing lilt to his voice, a smirk in his smile. “Eddie never compliments me.”
You laughed again, louder this time but just as harsh sounding as before. The water was filling your ears as you lay back, a cold rush to the back of your head and neck as you finally flattened yourself out.
“What a shit friend,” you managed to choke back.
Steve let go of your hand with a soft murmur of assurance, quickly placing it beside his other one, both palms supporting your frame. His touch was a delicate thing, the width of each hand encasing your back, keeping you afloat. He was the warmest thing in the water.
“Right?” Steve whispered, afraid to break the quiet, the spell that you were under. Your eyes were wide and on the sky as you lay there, watching the blue and the pink coloured clouds that were making their way over town. “You’re gonna have to have words with him.”
You nodded before realising the movement made your chin dip, your balance wavering. Your arms that had been floating at your sides tried to claw at something, anything, for purchase but found none and fear seized at your chest again.
“You’re okay,” Steve told you. “Another deep breath in— there you go. Now, keep your chest and tummy pushed out, okay? Keep it all above the surface, chin up, legs straight, you got it.”
And you did, kinda. The panic that made your chest tight loosened its grip as you let out the breath you’d been holding onto so fiercely. Your legs felt lighter once you stopped fighting the drag of them, your arms floating out to your sides, the back of your right hand brushing Steve’s stomach and you felt the muscles in his abdomen tense. But your eyes were fluttering, lashes blinking against your cheeks as you just let yourself be, your body floating, the cool water lapping at your neck, your face.
Steve’s hands were sure and steady on your back, never leaving or faltering. In fact they steered you away from the wall and kept you pushed to the surface, gently guiding and encouraging. They made your body feel warmer than the water did, the sun on your front, a dry heat that shone over your face and chest, rainbow spots in your vision and his palms were just as hot under the water.
He murmured nonsense as he let you balance on his fingertips, always encouraging and soft, pretty praises that made your toes curl into the pool and when he saw the way you trusted him, the way you let him hold you, he stopped talking altogether.
It was just you and Steve and the water under the sun.
Fingers danced a line along your spine, one set between your shoulder blades, the other holding you up from the small of your back and it was a shockingly intimate touch, especially when his skin found your own between the straps of your bathing suit.
Something told you that it would be a bad idea to open your eyes, but Eddie told you bad ideas had good outcomes all of the time. So you did just that, blinking against the sun that was rising as the morning moved on, the sky turning bluer and brighter, but not nearly as warm as Steve’s gaze.
He was looking down at you, his knees still bent and the water lapping at his chest, his face much closer than you realised. He was smiling, a soft thing that made your heart thunder loud enough to travel through the water, a steady drumbeat in your ears. And when the boy realised you were looking too, his cheeks turned that pretty pink colour, a cotton candy blush that you couldn’t help but stare at and he nodded, clearing his throat before he spoke.
“You’re doin’ great.”
The water filter trickled somewhere in the background, the sound of someone’s car door slamming in the distance. Apart from that, it was just Steve’s voice over your drum kit of a heart. It took a while for you to nod, water slipping over your chin and lips, tongue licking away chlorine.
“I’ve got a really good teacher,” you replied.
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington smut
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I've read your vampire eddie fic and its soo lovely I adore them being weird toghether <3 and I thought how will reader and eddie pass the summer? I totally see her saying shit like Vlad please put on some sunscreen lol and eddie be so grumpy
“It’s not that you don’t like it,” you’re saying.
“No, that’s exactly what it is.”
You sit down on the picnic blanket by his hip with a plate of summer fruit sweating in your hands. You’ve dotted a few ice cubes through the mountains of it, water melting, turning pink from the melon and yellow with the pineapple juice as the sun bears down.
“The sun is good for you,” you say, taking a slice of apple with green, bright rind in between two fingers. You have very pretty hands, Eddie’s thought that ever since you met, and they’re prettier still because of how you use them, you’re oh so gentle. “Just like this.”
He won’t let you feed him, taking the apple as you press it to his lips, juice and water wetting his fingers. “The sun does nothing for me. I’m dead.”
“Are you?” you ask, a genuine curiosity to your tone as you put the plate in front of him. Eddie, on his front, anticipates your next move before you’ve decided, not just because of his super senses but also because you’re a predictable creature, who loves him very much. Unlikely and true. “I thought you were only half dead,” you say, resting a hand by his ribs and leveraging yourself across his back in a hug. “Well, I thought you were undead.”
Eddie is regrettably undead. “I forgot you were the expert on my condition,” he says, putting the apple slice in his mouth whole.
“Your condition,” you say, your face slotting into the back of his neck, forcing him to close his eyes and settle into the blanket, grass beneath it crisp from the heat.
“My vampirism.”
“Ah, I thought you meant your behavioural issues.”
“Of course you did.”
You don’t say anything back. Quiet, your hands slide up in front of his armpits, your head lolling heavily to one side. You mouth a word against his neck, a second and third, but Eddie can’t decipher what it is you’re saying even with his incredible hearing, can only feel the soft curve of your lips as they shutter closed, hot like a fresh bruise beneath his ear.
Eddie nudges you to slide off of him, turning, cautious of the plate, to offer you his arm, and to see your face more clearly. You’ve forgone any of your fun makeups today, weary of the heat, all your wrinkles and lines in stunning detail under his gaze.
You lay on your side and Eddie lifts the arm that isn’t supporting him with his finger bent into a tight ‘n’ to stroke the skin under your chin. “You’re pretty,” he says, his knuckle rubbing back and forth.
“You’re beautiful,” you say back. The hair at the nape of your neck is damp with sweat, and as you both lay there in the humidity, a bead of it races suddenly to sink into the fabric of your top.
“You’re really pretty,” he says, ignoring your deflection —though for you, he doubts it’s a deflection at all, only a thought you’d had and spoken without qualm— in favour of lavishing you with some more love and praise. He opens his palm and touches his fingertips to your cheek, conscious of the heat, stringing the words together slow as the heavy pour of a maple tapper, “I don’t like the sun, it’s hot, and I’m melting, but I don’t think I mind it when you’re here too.”
Your heart does a jump, to his smugness, an audible caper of your pulse. “Everything’s better when we’re together,” you say.
He nods severely and lifts your chin just a touch, tilting his head to the side to kiss you. The pressure of his fangs is forgotten, a blood sate too far away to ignore the more nefarious longing that thrums at the centre of his chest, but overpowered anyways by practice, and desire; he’s gotten a thousand times better at kissing you, because you like to be kissed, and he likes to give you anything he can.
He can’t pretend he doesn’t like this, either. You cover his hand with yours and wade in like a quick tide, pulling back and pushing in, like nips without the pain. Your hand slips into his hair. “I love you,” you say, “but you’re sweating like crazy.”
“You’re sweating worse,” he says.
“We’ll have to take a vacation.”
“Where do you want to go?”
“Literally everywhere cold.”
Eddie can’t leave Hawkins. He needs blood, and there’s only one sheriff who’s willing to source it for him. But it’s a nice idea, a fantasy he won’t ruin for you. “Where’d you want to go first?”
“I wanna go to that place with the Northern Lights. We’d never complain about sweating again.”
You squint at him.
“What?” he asks.
“Where do you want to go?” you ask.
“Anywhere with you.”
“Well, you’d have to.”
“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” he asks.
“I’m your only portable blood bag, Eddie.”
He lays back on his back, covering his eyes with an arm as the other comes to rest on his soft stomach, whirl of a scar thick beneath his shirt. “Never gonna happen.”
You shuffle closer to him. “One day,” you say, laying down next to him with your face nearly flat to the blanket, the heat of your body a palpable thickness he wouldn’t change for the world, dehydration inevitable. “You’ll give me a nice sharp kiss and that’ll be that.”
“Never.”
“Imagine it.” Your voice turns to a whisper.
“Never, babe,” he says, he promises, the weight of his arm over his eyes like an iron.
“I’ll just have to bite you instead.”
You open your mouth and press your teeth to the hill of his shoulder, dull and wet, your breath like a kiss before you let your lips drift shut and give him a proper one. “Love you,” you say.
“Love you, freakazoid.” He wrestles you into a cuddle he’ll regret sooner rather than later, wishing his vampirism were better at keeping him cool. He’s cold to the touch most of the time. Right now he’s baking. “But I’m not biting you,” he says into your forehead.
You laugh breezily. “Not today you’re not. That’s why I made fruit salad.”
#love bites universe#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson scenario#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfiction#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things x reader
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i accidentally deleted this ask srry lol but here it is 😭
pairing: charles leclerc x fem y/n reader (she/her)
genre: blurb, established relationship
warnings: none just fluff
prompt: three [driver] proposing to you
a/n: tysmmm & yey charles reqs r always welcome
my masterlist | my 1k celebration
it's early afternoon when you wake, stretching out your limbs still stiff from sleep, your eyes adjusting to the light spilling in from the cracks in the blinds. your arms instinctively reach to your left, feeling for your boyfriend who, to your dismay, isn't there. a soft sigh escapes your lips as your eyes finally focus on the empty pillow beside you. you notice a note there, a little yellow post-it marked with charles’ familiar scrawl and you smile to yourself, humming with contentment as you read it: enjoy your breakfast, ma belle.
you pad downstairs through to the kitchen, still rubbing your eyes of any remaining sleep. on the countertop lies fresh fruit, all your favourites, cut up neatly along with pineapple juice and some sweet pastries. you smile to yourself, making yourself a cup of coffee whilst you snack on some cubes of mango. another note catches your attention as you go to grab milk, this time in pink, pasted to the fridge door. i will see you soon it read, along with an address. you raise your eyebrows, grabbing your phone and calling charles. no answer. guess you had to play along after all.
after eating and tidying away at a leisurely pace, a smile playing at your lips the whole time, you take a shower and get ready for the day. the sun is low and warm and bright in monaco today, so you dress appropriately. you toy with the pink post-it between your fingers before folding it up neatly, slipping it into your handbag and going out to the car. another note lays atop the steering wheel of the ferrari, this time in green. je t'aime. simple but effective.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
you take the familiar rocky path down to the sands of the beach once you arrive, letting the sun warm your skin. this is one of your favourite places to come with charles, and where you had your first date. you regularly revisit that beach picnic together.
when your feet eventually hit the soft sand, you look around for charles, or even any sign at all of his presence. your eyes narrow at the sight of footprints and you follow them eagerly, your skirts swooshing around you as your legs begin to pick up the pace. you stop in your tracks when you see a blue paper on the ground, partially buried by sand. you reach down and snag your fourth post-it of the day. look up. so, of course, you do.
and there he is, your boyfriend, nine or ten paces in front of you. but it isn't who's there that catches your attention, it's what the hell is he doing.
“charles, what are you doing?” you say, beginning to walk towards him quickly, glancing around for any passersby who might see. “if this is a prank, get up now.” you stop in your tracks as he shakes his head once, pulling a box from his pocket. “charles–”
“y/n,” he interrupts you, a shaky grin on his face. your heart is beating out of your chest, so loud in your ears you think you're hearing things when he speaks again. “will you marry me?”
a small gasp leaves your lips, rendering you speechless as you stare down at your boyfriend, on one knee in front of you, the most gorgeous diamond glinting at you in the sun.
“y/n, please reply. i love you and i–” you start to laugh at his panicked words, seeing him become unstable in his position.
“oh my god, cha,” you're giggling uncontrollably now, “get up. of course i'll marry you!”
“oh, thank god.” he sighs, the grin now back on his face. “you scared me, ma belle.” he slides the ring onto your finger before kissing your lips as if he'd never get to kiss you again.
#f1#f1 smau#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 fic#f1 imagine#blurb#f1 blurb#cl16#charles lecrelc#charles leclerc#charles leclerc fanfic#cl16 one shot#cl16 smau#cl16 x y/n#cl16 fluff#cl16 x you#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#cl16 fic#maddie's fanfics
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guardian of the Time Cube
[image id: digital illustration of Prismo from Adventure Time. He is set in a purple and blue galactic background with bright blue stars and current-like shapes crossing over his form. His arms are contorted and interlocking over themselves and he is grasping the Time Cube in his hands at the center. Prismo has a blank look on his face looking straight out and his eye has a yellow star within it. end id.]
#adventure time#prismo the wishmaster#prismo#fionna and cake#f&c#my art#i heart prismo so much i think hes so neat :))#also its been forever since i posted art here so here we go lol
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little fic: Scully 60th birthday with Mulder and their three offsprings (Emily, Will, Baby)
pretty please :) :)
Emily has been practicing for almost two years now, at a good dermatology office northwest of Baltimore. Emily is 5’10 and freckled, with hair like a Nebraska wheat field and her mother’s remarkable eyes. Emily, extroverted and charming and the life of every party, was the captain of three varsity teams in high school. Emily left soccer cleats and lacrosse sticks all over the house; Emily wore her father out with endless games of catch and tag and chase-the-frisbee. She has a quiet boyfriend named Sebastian who makes heavenly rugelach. He and Mulder swap notes on sourdough starters.
“Happy birthday, Scully!” she says, bending over to kiss her pixie mother. “You don’t look a day over 40, and I should know.”
Scully laughs, clutches at the human Golden Retriever that is her daughter. “I’m so glad to see you,” she says. “Where’s Baz?”
“Got a cake in the car. Hi, Dad!” She hurls herself into her father’s arms, laughing when he staggers backwards a bit.
“Jesus, kid,” Mulder says, squeezing her close. “Cut an old man some slack.”
Emily, laughing, is bright as the sun.
William, rangy and pale from too many hours in the chemical engineering lab, tosses grapes into his mouth while Vera, newly five, applauds.
“That’s forty-two, Will,” she says, adoringly, marking in her notebook. She huffs a new-penny corkscrew of hair from her line of sight. Vera alone inherited their mother’s hair. Their father’s changeable eyes.
“What up, nerd?” William says to his older sister. He throws her a grape, which she catches and eats.
Vera applauds again, records further data with the tip of her pink tongue poking between her lips.
“Price of gas,” Emily replies, walking over to drop kisses on her siblings. “Helicopters.”
Vera flings her arms around her sister’s neck. “Where is Baz, please?”
Emily scowls. “Everyone loves him more than me, even my own family. What gives?” She scoops her sister onto her hip.
“Baz makes patisserie,” Vera says, carefully enunciating. “Baz c’est magnifique.”
“Where’d you learn French?” Emily asks.
Vera beams but does not answer.
“We don’t know,” Scully says. She scolds Daggoo from the couch.
“Enigmatic little thing,” Mulder says proudly. “Like the rest of you.”
William pinches Vera’s bare toes, making her squeal. Like his father, he doesn’t openly acknowledge that Emily can see ghosts and learn from them. That he’s telekinetic, that sweet little Vera is, at least partially, psychic. He knows that Vera can speak a little French because Mulder can speak a little French.
Vera does a lot of things, does them quietly.
Their family is so boisterous, they talk so much and say so little.
Baz comes in, carrying a robin’s-egg-blue cake draped in garlands of pale yellow Lambeth frosting.
Vera gasps. “Oh, c'est beau ! Scully, regarde ce qu'il t'a fait! N’es-tu pas fière, Emily?”
William lolls on the sofa. On the table, a Rubik’s cube silently solves itself.
Emily looks at her extraordinary baby sister. Her beautiful, strange little brother. She looks at her mother, who isn’t aging quite right. At her father, whose ghosts she holds in her scarred heart. She returns her sister to the couch.
She kisses Baz on his perfect, regular, amazing, ordinary face.
“English please,” she says to Vera. “Just remember that all the people in this world haven't had the advantages that you've had.”
Emily attended medical school at Hopkins.
“Fitzgerald,” Vera murmurs as she draws a diplodocus. “The Great Gatsby.”
Mulder and Scully exchange a glance.
Baz, beaming and sweetly, beautifully, oblivious, sets his artwork on the table. “Vanilla chiffon and raspberry,” he says, a kiss on Scully’s marble cheekbone. “Swiss buttercream.”
Emily preens.
“My favorite!” Vera cries.
William lights the candle without touching it, to make a point to Emily.
Emily, as expected, glares.
Vera gazes at the adults, enraptured. She sings Happy Birthday to her mother with the tone-deaf verve of kindergarten. She snuggles against her father with the trust of the utterly adored.
Scully grins, blows out the candles.
Watch little Vera, say Melissa and Samantha to Emily. She’s more.
Emily pretends to ignore her aunts, sees her brother adjust a deck of cards across the room. Sees her mother’s extraordinary beauty, sees her father’s extraordinary love.
She hugs her mother and cries, just a little, for reasons that are unclear. “I love you,” Emily says, throaty.
William rises, embraces them both. “Happy birthday, Mom,” he says. He kisses the top of her shining head.
Vera looks up from her drawing. “Ich habe keine Unruhe,” she says in her sweet, fluting voice.
Scully’s wine glass hits the floor in a sudden, piercing cry.
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Happy Valentines Day!
Transcript:
"Isn't it beautiful out here?"
Scarab had dragged Prismo outside, far away from home. Many storage cubes full of different sampling equipment sat bunched in Prismo's floating blanket, test tubes and containers, stuff Prismo can't identify by just looking at it sat in those cubes.
"'Suppose so."
Prismo sounded a little bored, but he's seen quite a few of these fields in his very long lifetime. Seen one, you've seen them all.
A huge, sprawling flower field. Prismo can't identify a single flower here, even if he tried. Which, to be fair, he won't try.
The field was colorful, blindingly so. Yellows, reds, blues, golds. Blobs of every shade of green, sprouting out tall where the flowers hadn't invaded. It reached farther than Prismo's eyesight could render.
Scarab dragged him by the (covered) hand out into it. He mumbles different scientific proposals, things he wants to show to the rest of Wizard City.
Nerd stuff.
Prismo only hears the excited tone of his voice and focuses on that. He quickly fell in more toward Scarab's behavior than what he's actually talking about, finding all the little things he recognizes. Prismo leans on the blanket ball, nodding along like he's listening.
Scarab talks with his hands. Scarab trills and clicks. Scarab watches the ground so he doesn't step on too many flowers at a time.
Prismo gets so distracted that he hadn't realized that Scarab had dropped Prismo's hand, instead actively trying to tug the blanket out from under Prismo.
Prismo lets go of the blanket immediately, stammering out a small excuse.
"You spaced out, didn't you?" Scarab trilled, cutting through his needless excuse. He gently takes the blanket from him, and he spreads it out on the ground.
"Uh, yeah. Sorry." Prismo plays with his turban in his own habit, a nervous tic. Scarab moves each cube to be stacked up all nice and neat, taking out what he needs.
Prismo went to his side immediately, curling into him. His turban was pressed into his back with his legs slung over Scarab's hips, his hands occupying themselves by playing with Scarab's jutting spikes around his chest.
Scarab collected samples despite his limited range of movement, gentle with each flower as he plucked out their pedals and cut stems.
Prismo was instructed to hold things occasionally, pick flowers, go get dirt from the side of that hill over there. He carried them out without much thought, too distracted by watching Scarab at work.
He sat cross legged, stuffing flower petals in some book to dry. Gentle as he turns bleeding stems upside down over a vial and then corking it closed. He whips around excitedly to Prismo, showing him the vial.
"I've never seen this before, look!" He got up with a few creaks and pops in his knees and hips, walking quickly to Prismo despite the clicks coming from his knees.
To Prismo, it looked like strawberry jam, as it was bright red with chunks of what looks like seeds. He was far more concerned with Scarab's joints popping like they did.
Scarab was rattling off all of his observations, how the liquid was thick and he thought it was because it was a carnivorous plant, evidenced by the dead flies in the bottom of the plant.
Prismo nodded while leading him back over to the blanket, his hand wrapped around Scarab's waist. He knew that Scarab would start hurting soon, based on the sounds of protest his legs were making.
Scarab knew it too, little etches of pain seeping into his voice as he rambled.
He walked to the blanket and that's as far as he made it, unable to lower himself down.
When Scarab was in pain, it made bending his knees extremely painful, but standing up straight hurt worse. Prismo looked so concerned, petting his waist in circles, nosing into his neck.
"Y-You can help by lowering me down, Prismo." Scarab knew what he was thinking, holding the backside of the clothed hand on his waist.
"Tell me if I hurt you." Prismo braced himself on Scarab's back, holding him firmly. Slowly, carefully, lovingly, Prismo lowered Scarab to the ground, adjusting the position or moved faster based on Scarab's groans and clicks. The flowers folded underneath Scarab, snapping with loud cracks, bleeding stems soaking the blanket.
Prismo moved out from under him, receiving an upset trill. "What's wrong?" He cupped his mask and Scarab pressed hard into it.
"Can you..put your knee under my back and your arm under my head?" He quietly requested, reaching up and holding the hand on his mask.
Prismo whispered delicate affirmations, doing as Scarab said. A mellow chitter left him in pleasure, his pain relieved just a little bit. Prismo thumbed his chest, nosing back into his neck. A mumbled "thank you" left Scarab, who sighed with relief when Prismo's hand shifted to caress Scarab's sore knees.
"I'm sorry our outing was cut short…I didn't mean to get up that quickly." He whispered, shifting his hands to rest over his stomach.
"Mmm..we're still out, aren't we?" Prismo grinned, huffing a giggle against Scarab's cold chitin. "Don't apologize. You were excited, it was cute."
"Ah. Don't call me cute.." Scarab turned his head away, Prismo knows he's not upset. Under his mask, he was sure he was burning up.
"Hush. I like calling you it." He said. "I call it like I see it."
Though, Scarab chattered in pain when Prismo shifted to hold him closer, Prismo frowning and shushing him. "I-I'm sorry–"
Prismo shushed him louder. "Don't apologize. I know you can't help it, and I don't mind holding you through it."
"You don't have to, though."
"I want to. Gives me an excuse to cuddle."
"Like you need an excuse.”
#carmen dreams au#fionna and cake#fanart#adventure time#prismo#adventure time fionna and cake#prismo the wishmaster#prohibited wish#prohibitedwish#the scarab
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i kept forgetting to do this, but i finally remembered we got permission to upload the full pieces done for the SEASONS ZINE! they're not quite as good without @deathchic's gorgeous prose accompanying them, but they were really exciting to put together.
full breakdowns of the symbolism and unobstructed views of each card can be found beneath the cut, fully transcribed. as a warning, they are LONG.
my category was "fall," which encompassed the folie and save rock and roll eras, including the welcome to the new administration mixtape and pax am days ep. seeing as i've a great deal of love for all four of those works and fall out boy has four members, i decided to highlight each work by creating a tarot-inspired card, each featuring a member of the band.
Welcome to the New Administration: Pete Wentz
Pete was the primary organizer behind the viral campaign for CitizensFOB, making him the ideal pick for this card. His card prominently features his bass guitar with the iconic Clandestine logo.
Repeating Number 4: 4 stars above the eagle's head, 4 markings across the cube at the center, 4 members of the band
The tri-colored drapes behind Pete were suspended behind the band on the mixtape cover. The curtains parting over a black background signifies the oncoming hiatus.
The cube-like geometric shape in front of the eagle represents the single promotional art done for "America's Suitehearts," which was one of the tracks demoed in the mixtape and one of the singles that connected most prominently with the themes of the mixtape.
The shield Pete carries and the eagle mounted behind him are both symbols that were used to promote the CitizensFOB viral campaign, featuring the catchphrase: "For Our Betterment, There Is More Mayhem."
Pete's apparel is what he was wearing for the Believers Never Die Part Deux tour, in which there was a lot of direct satirization of Wall Street and American politics. All the band members were wearing suits and looking visibly battered, and Pete had a nosebleed. Patrick also has a nosebleed on his own card; both Pete and Patrick's cards are pre-hiatus projects.
The symbols at the four corners of the card are indicative of the imagery surrounding the campaign. The pointing hand comes from the cover for the mixtape; the airplane is a reference to the "Mailbaick Vaintey and Pidetaerson Firm" videos and accounts that were used in the viral campaign; the wolf head is for the "Alpha Dog" demo, which made its debut on the CitizensFOB mixtape and namedropped "Welcome to the New Administration" title in its demo form; the boomerang is for the "Lake Effect Kid" demo, which also made its debut on the CitizensFOB mixtape.
"The Citizen" is an obvious reference to the "Citizens For Our Betterment" campaign name.
The card features 12 colors, all colorpicked from the Welcome to the New Administration mixtape cover. This represents the 12 artists who contributed the mixtape musically (not merely speaking roles): The Academy Is..., Butch Watcher, The Cab, Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy, Four Year Strong, Gym Class Heroes, Hey Monday, The Hush Sound, Panic! At The Disco, A Rocket to the Moon, and Tyga.
The background elements are indicative of the state of the band prior to the hiatus: the leaves are in tatters and shreds. The sunflower is a native Chicago variant, Helianthus occidentalis, late-blooming sunflower that lasts well into early fall. Sunflowers obviously have a strong association with the sun, but they also stand for adoration, loyalty, good fortune, vitality, longevity, and prosperity. The bright yellow color also associates them with intelligence, happiness, and friendship. Van Gogh had a famous Sunflower series, leading to the obvious connection to Infinity on High, the album preceding the Folie era. This made it a good pick for the pre-hiatus cards, since it was loyalty and friendship that led to the hiatus and ultimately to the band's longevity and vitality. Both Folie à Deux and the Welcome to the New Administration mixtape had more yellow tones than their post-hiatus counterparts as well, thus the pick of a yellow flower.
Folie à Deux: Patrick Stump
Patrick has stated that Folie à Deux is the most "him" out of Fall Out Boy's discography, making him ideal for this card.
Repeating Number 4: 4 electric bursts from the microphone, 4-sided symbol mounted on the microphone, 4 ruffles on Dr. Benzedrine's front
The card features 13 colors to represent the 13 tracks on the album itself (excluding bonus tracks). All colors were colorpicked directly from the album cover.
The anchor is a reference to the lyrics of "27," with a crown symbol on it in reference to "Headfirst Slide into Cooperstown on a Bad Bet."
There are 9 stripes on the upper side of the background, as a reference to "West Coast Smoker" - the suicidal cats have 9 lives.
The microphone represents Patrick's role as vocalist. It is also a reference to "(Coffee's for Closers)," as the microphone stand is electrified.
Patrick's right half is modeled after his costume in the "America's Suitehearts" video, "Dr. Benzedrine." He has a nosebleed in reference to the lyrics of the song that is his namesake, "20 Dollar Nose Bleed." Both he and Pete represent pre-hiatus projects, and both have bleeding noses.
Patrick's left half is modeled after his costume in the "What A Catch, Donnie" video. He has 20 stripes on his shirt - half black and half white, keeping with themes of duality. The 20 total stripes also references "20 Dollar Nose Bleed."
The background on the bottom half is shattered into 15 visible fragments, indicating the 15 tracks of the full album (when including bonus tracks such as "Pavlove" and "Lullabye"). There are also 27 fragments scattered between the two halves of Patrick, representing "27" and the 27 club.
The symbols at the four corners have dual meanings, in keeping with the theme of duality. The bee is both a lyrical reference to "Lullabye" and a nod to the intro of "Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes"; the storm cloud is both a nod to the lyrics of "She's My Winona" and a reference to the "Mr. Sandman" character in the "America's Suitehearts" video; the horseshoe crab is both a reference to the lyrics on "The (Shipped) Gold Standard" and to the character of "H. Shoe Crab" in the "America's Suitehearts" video; the sunflower acknowledges the lyrics in "27" about shooting the sunshine into one's veins and nods to the flower on the hat of the "Donnie the Catcher" character in the "America's Suitehearts" video.
"The Mirror" references the theming of duality on the album, as well as the fact that the vinyl required a mirror for one to read the tracklisting since the text was printed backwards.
The card features heavy themes of duality to suit the theme of a "madness shared by two." The image is bisected in several respects: Patrick is fractured in two, both halves wearing different costumes and expressions; the shadow in the center is split down the middle; the broken heart in the upper half is also two faces; the image is divided both horizontally and vertically; and a dichotomy of fire (the electrified microphone stand) and water (the anchor).
Save Rock and Roll: Joe Trohman
Joe took a much more active writing role post-hiatus and on this album in particular, making him a good pick to represent Save Rock and Roll.
Repeating Number 4: 4 symbols, 4-pointed symbol holding up the others
The card features 11 colors, representing 11 tracks on the album. All colors were color-picked directly from the album cover, with an emphasis on reds, to suit the "red palette" imagery surrounding the album.
This card is saturated with imagery from the 11-part video series the band released in conjunction with the album, "The Youngblood Chronicles." Joe is wearing the costume he had for the majority of the video series prior to his death.
The card features heavy fire imagery due to this being a motif on the album and on the associated video series, with smoke rising up in the background. This is indicative of the band "rising from the ashes" post-hiatus, and also symbolizes the resurrection of Joe's character at the end of "The Youngblood Chronicles."
The guitar-axe weapon is from the "Death Valley" video and would have been his weapon if he weren't dead at this point in time. The card prominently features Joe's guitar, albeit turned into a weapon, as befitting the theming.
The four symbols mounted behind Joe are also from "The Youngblood Chronicles" - the symbol representing the "Silence the Noise" group; the symbol associated with the gang of child bikers; the symbol the Prince of Darkness tattoos on Joe's hand; and the crown-and-volcano symbol associated with the band post-hiatus. The symbol upon which these four icons are mounted is found on the floor in Heaven in the "Save Rock and Roll" video.
Joe is the only one who does not face the audience directly, and is turned in profile. Given the fictional nature of the narrative of "The Youngblood Chronicles," he has the most distance from the fourth wall.
The symbols at the four corners of the card also draw from imagery from "The Youngblood Chronicles." The disco ball is from the "Where Did the Party Go" video, in which Joe's character dies. The briefcase is a consistent object throughout the entire series, and serves to incite the entire narrative. Patrick's hook hand, also seen throughout, is significant due to Patrick's unwitting role as Joe's murderer. The snake, seen in "Young Volcanoes" and "Just One Yesterday," is representative of the group's collective trauma.
"The Defender" is a reference to the names of the characters of Fall Out Boy in "The Youngblood Chronicles," as they are referred to as "The Defenders of the Faith" in the longform video's opening credits. This title is in and of itself a reference to the title track on Save Rock and Roll.
Pax Am Days: Andy Hurley
The Pax Am Days EP is closest to the band's hardcore roots in terms of sonics and composition, and Andy is the most active in hardcore circles today, which makes him an ideal pick for this card.
Repeating 4: 4 holes in the American flag, 4 supports visible on the toms and bass drum, 4 tears on the left side of the wall
The card features 9 colors, all color-picked from the EP cover, per the 9 tracks on the EP (counting the bonus "New Dreams" Naked Rayguns cover).
There are also 9 tears on the right side of the wall, also befitting the 9 tracks on the EP.
The black-and-white checkered background represents the Pax Am studio where the EP was recorded and after which it was named.
Andy is the only one whose card features him looking directly at the audience, to signify the more intimate recording sessions behind the EP, in which studio chatter and laughter can be heard between every track. Being the drummer of the band, Andy's drumkit is naturally featured very prominently.
The crown-volcano symbol that's become synonymous with the band post-hiatus is (barely) visible mounted on Andy's bass drum. This is a similarity Andy's card shares with Joe's, as they both represent post-hiatus projects.
The American flag was also present in the studio for recording. The flag being torn and shredded on the card relates to tracks on the EP that discuss disillusionment with the American dream ("American Made"). It is also indicative of the eras preceding and following the Pax Am EP (Folie à Deux and the Welcome to the New Administration mixtape, and then American Beauty / American Psycho).
The four symbols at the corners of the card all represent lyrics present on the EP: the crown comes from "We Were Doomed from the Start (The King is Dead)"; the lion comes from "Demigods"; the black widow comes from "Hot to the Touch, Cold on the Inside"; the skull comes from "Love, Sex, Death."
"The Believer" is a reference to the final compilation prior to the band's four-year hiatus, "Believers Never Die." With the band returning seemingly from the dead, it seems that believers truly never die. This is paired with Andy reportedly being the only member of the band who always believed they would get back together, even if none of the others did.
The background elements for the post-hiatus cards feature leaves with much more reddish tones. The color red has a great deal of symbolic meanings, including high energy, vitality, strength, and prosperity. Additionally, the fallen leaves are rich and whole, to contrast the shredded-looking leaves in the background for the pre-hiatus cards. After the hiatus, the band's overall health and mentality was much healthier.
The flower in the background is a Madame Julia Correvon clematis, a wine-red Chicago variant of clematis that blooms in the summer and fall. Clematis flowers are associated with mental acuity, wisdom, travel, aspiration, and mischief. Red clematis in particular is associated with passion, energy, good luck, prosperity, security, physical vitality, and courage. This, along with the red color scheme, made it a good flower to represent the cards for the post-hiatus projects.
#fall out boy#fob#seasons zine#*mine#*art#ids in the alt text#i overthought so much of this symbolism lol#and the flowers arent 100% accurate to what theyre supposed to look like...#alas! it was fun regardless
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Moonlit blues
Based on my post about Chuuya meeting Atsushi as a kid, both them being apart of the Sheep until Chuuya left to join the Mafia.
Thinking Atsushi had been killed.
Dazai grinned bouncing into Chuuya's apartment "Heeey Chuuuuyyya~!" What can he say, he was bored and Chuuya was good for free entertainment.
"Go away asshole!"
That made Dazai pause, the wording was normal but the delivery was off. Not to mention that Chuuya's voice was hoarse.
Like he'd been crying.
Following his voice to his room, Dazai looked at the sight before him. The lights were off, the moon enveloping the room in a bright glow.
Chuuya had his back to him, facing the window.
There was a bottle of wine in his hand, his hat was on his bedside and was holding what looked like a picture frame in his other hand.
"Chuuya?" Dazai frowns, he's never seen Chuuya look so... Vulnerable.
Even when the other was being interrogated by Mori and imobolised by cubes, he had been as cocky and sharp as ever.
Now? Now he looked so fragile that Dazai was afraid a gust of wind could shatter him.
"I said go away!" Choked up Chuuya, turning to face him. Dazai had seen Chuuya's face turn red on many occasion.
He was easy to fluster and anger, Chuuya wore his emotions on his sleeve more often than not.
But Dazai had never seen him cry.
He decided he hated it, hated seeing Chuuya look so hurt and upset.
Gently, Dazai reached out and brushed his tears with his thumb. Looking his partner in the eye "who did this to you?" He didn't care who, he'd kill them a thousand times.
Chuuya let out a mix of a chuckle and a sob.
"It's my fault."
Dazai highly doubted that but let him talk. Sitting beside him as he did so. Chuuya took a deep breathe, trying to compose himself.
"Do you remember the day we met?" Dazai nodded, he would remember that day for the rest of his life. "I was with the Sheep, and they were like family to me.
They took me in when I had nothing... But their was someone there who was like, no he was my little brother."
Chuuya paused, drinking some of his wine before carrying on. "He was 9 when I met him, skinny little shrimp." It said a lot about the situation that Dazai didn't tease him for calling someone else a shrimp.
"He stole my lunch, didn't even realise it at first." Snorted Chuuya, amusement in his eyes that danced with greif. "Must've been terrified when he realised." Said Dazai.
Chuuya nodded "oh yeah, he said sorry so many times until I split it with him. From there we were best friends."
He smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. "Got him into the Sheep so I could protect him." Chuuya looks down at the photo "lotta good that did" he mumbles.
Dazai squeezed his shoulder in comfort and Chuuya rested his head against his shoulder. "I don't regret joining the Port Mafia" the I unsaid 'I don't regret meeting you' hung in the air between them.
"But" coaxed Dazai.
"But, because of it they killed him." Finished Chuuya, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks.
Dazai often questioned whether he had a heart. He almost wished he didn't because watching Chuuya's break, made his shatter.
This kid had meant a lot to him, still did.
Part of him wanted to ask, to know more about the kid and what had happened. To get every last piece of information about him.
The rest of him pushed that aside and held his partner in his arms.
All that mattered to Dazai right now was Chuuya.
"The moon, reminds me of him so...." Says Chuuya quietly, looking at the moon and to the photograph that he showed Dazai.
Dazai looked at it, seeing a boy with snow white hair and a single black streak. His eyes were bright yellow and purple.
The boys clothes were ones Dazai knew at once had belonged to Chuuya, hanging off his slender frame.
But what truly got his attention was his smile that was nothing but warm and kind.
"Funny thing is... He protected me just as much I took care of him." Said Chuuya softly, "
Dazai could see that. He sent a promise to the skies, hoping it reached the boy wherever he was.
So that he could rest easy knowing Chuuya was being taken care of.
Chuuya met his gaza like he'd read his mind, rolling his eyes fondly.
"If you really wanna thank him, use his name. It's Atsushi, Atsushi Nakajima."
Dazai grinned, pretending to write it down and delighting at the snort he got in response.
Rest easy Atsushi Nakajima, I've got him from here.
And that would be their tradition, to spend the full moon together so that Chuuya didn't have to deal with it alone.
Unfortunately, Atsushi never got the message. Because unknown to both he was very much alive.
#Atsushi joins the sheep#chuuya nakahara#dazai osamu#dazai x chuuya#atsushi nakajima#bsd#bsd dazai#bsd chuuya#bungou stray dogs#bungo stray dogs#soukouku#bsd sskk#sskk#soukoku#ficlet#tw alchohol mention
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Thank you for the tags @heartstringsduet @honeybee-taskforce @sznofthesticks @carlos-in-glasses @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut & @ladytessa74 💕 I am still dying and I’m wishing Paul’s grandma could make me some spicy soup to heal me.
“Man, get away from me,” Paul laughs, playfully pushing TK by the arm. “Go harass your fiancé, let me cook in peace.”
Marjan and Carlos have started an assembly line of peeling and cubing potatoes, when Paul pushes him away from the stove, TK skips over and joins them.
“Being good, cariño?” Carlos asks with a wink, picking up TK’s left hand and dropping a quick kiss to his ring finger.
They eat in the living room. TK sits on the floor in front of Carlos, leaning back against his legs and humming appreciatively at the savory taste of the curry. The spice of the habanero leaves him a bit red faced, but that doesn’t stop him from going back for seconds.
While they eat, Paul tells them about his grandmother, about all the hours he spent in the kitchen with her, how she sparked his love of cooking as a kid, and how cooking in adulthood helped him feel close with her after she passed away. Alongside her famous curry she also taught him how to make aloo pies, pastelles and spiced marinated fruit. When Paul was a teenager, she loved teasing his friends when they came over. Goading them into trying big bites of her Trini pepper sauce — the signature bright yellow hot sauce found in every Trinidadian mom’s cupboard, flavored with spicy scotch bonnet. Then she’d laugh when they beelined to the kitchen sink for a glass of water, telling them “ay, you know it’s good when it burns both ways!”
Tagging @chicgeekgirl89 @thisbuildinghasfeelings @bonheur-cafe @welcometololaland @strandnreyes @whatsintheboxmh @your-catfish-friend @inkweedandlizards @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @alrightbuckaroo @kiwichaeng @carlos-tk @vineofroses @literateowl @freneticfloetry @orchidscript @guardian-angle22 @my-little-tilly @tinyluminaryzombie @basilsunrise @louis-ii-reyes-strand @herefortarlos @apothecarose @rmd-writes @thebumblecee @theghostofashton @reyesstrand @itsrandomnobody7 @liminalmemories21 @lightningboltreader @iboatedhere @never-blooms @ambiguouspenny @paperstorm @noxsoulmate @detective-giggles @decafdino & OPEN TAG 🏷️
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Personal QSMP design hcs and interpretations (PART 1)
1. q!Quackity
ducktaur. predominantly golden yellow feathers and bright orange duck legs
partial heterochromia (dark brown with bits of bluish-grey)
his wear is different depending on which language he is maining at the moment
Eng!Q has an eyebrow scar, calloused hands, and some browning feathers. Wears religious jewelry and warm-colored clothes.
ESP!Q has ear piercings and blue-dyed feathers. Always has a clip-on tie and cool colored clothes.
Post-Tilin death, he either has their ribbon as a necktie (ESP) or belt (ENG)
has a pin of the QSMP logo always on his person
Brushes his feathers before teaching class
2. q!Jaiden
she is the cartoon character reflected by the mc skin, though is nonetheless perceived as human
she magical girl transforms into the vtuber fit whenever she wants to. Most of the time, it's to fight or to protect Bobby
she transforms using a magical brooch that resembles the emblem on her vtuber fit. she can add stuff on the brooch to alter her transformed appearance (like changing the bird wings to butterfly ones, or having a shiny rainbow mode)
she made a smaller, less powerful replica of her brooch for Bobby so he can get into armor much faster
she "draws" things out of her inventory with her fingers in the air (think the spellcasting of the witches in The Owl House, but with different symbols)
When Bobby died, her transformed look takes on a more dark and brooding appearance
3. q!Roier
he's not a spider hybrid but like, an actual Spiderman—literally got bit by a radioactive spider and everything
alternates between his superhero suit and a civilian fit. like jaiden, he transforms between fits superhero style
can fire webs from his hands, has slight spider sense, and also venomous saliva (so i beg of you, do not get head from this man)
wears natural makeup bc he likes to. he darkens it a little when he feels particularly vengeful (this is canon but yk)
the spiderman traits also apply to Melissa, whose dyed lingerie is literally weaved from spider webs
Post-Bobby death, he wears more blacks (both in civilian and superhero fits) and a lot more eyeliner
4. q!Bad
humanoid looking demon. resembles a void-like shadow in extreme emotional states
distinctly has a glowing halo. it has long horns growing out of it + a shadowy demon tail
has his mc skin's hoodie but sleeveless. collared shirts of any color is usually under that + beige khakis, white socks and various sneakers!
His hoodie has a small embroidered symbol of the Order Theoritas, hidden near the collar of the hood
his hair is long and usually tied loosely. wears glasses as well
sharp canines make him look a bit catty
his reaper get-up is well-sewn cursed cloth. wearing the fit makes his halo and tail larger, darker, and more shadowy
there's a block of diamond + an image of skeppy always on his person
He lets Dapper wear the ghost chat bell as a tail accessory
5. q!Spreen
werebear. He turns into a human during sunny daytimes, and is otherwise an anthromorphic bear-man.
black bear, like the mc skin
fashion sense however matches the CC; generally street-looking even with the bulk of armor
canines and claws glow when he's fighting someone in bear mode. he grows them out fighting during his human state
smells like cigarettes
6. q!Slime
a player equivalent to minecraft slime
prefers taking on a humanoid appearance, and has taken it long enough to master recolorization of said state. feels uncomfortable taking any other form as well
experiences pain when shifting (i mean that's also canon but yk)
behaves like a magma cube in extreme negative emotional states. will resemble one if you piss him off enough
he has no actual clothes, he shapeshifts the appearance of clothing. (q!Mariana has noticed, and he doesn't like to think too hard about it) his most external layer is armor and glasses.
he and q!Mariana have each a piece of Juanaflippa's shell on their person
7. q!Cellbit
human. well, not completely according to genetics but is more or less perceived as one.
The CC but wearing the blockman-cubito's fits
wears eyeliner to hide the eyebags. This doesnt work and only makes his eyes more expressive
a shadow looms the upper half of his face whenever he's being super weird and mysterious. It darkens when he's consciously about to do something really bad in a dramatic anime way; this is much more emphasized if he puts on his goggles
he paints his nails and the paint always trails. these glow sailor moon style when he comes into contact with the blood of any living creature
has a caffeine addiction
The chainsaw scars are deep enough that Cellbit doesn't like looking at himself when changing; he forces it though to remember why he's doing anything at all
Taught Richas how to draw the symbol for the Ordo Theoritas. He also has the symbol pressed into the leather of his gloves
8. q!Wilbur
humanoid man of unidentified species. perceived as human.
really is human looking, minus the pointy ears and prismatic irises
wears clear glasses. yellow sweater + sleeveless brown longcoat + grey jeans + black boots
has a black scarf and red beanie both made of wool and embroidered with gold threaded flowers.
always has a guitar on his person. since tallulah entered his life, he's let her put stickers and draw all over it.
They jam together when they can
may or may not have an enchanted singing voice
part 2
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Acorn squash soup with teriyaki tofu, udon, and curried apple
This recipe takes notes from squash soup and curry udon to produce an autumnal soup that balances fresh and umami flavors. The bright, crisp tartness of the apples combines with the bite and savor of the tofu and the mildly spiced dashi-based broth to create a fun, playful eating experience in which every bite is different.
Recipe under the cut!
Patreon | Tip jar
Serves 4.
Ingredients:
For the dashi:
3 cups cool water
8g (3" x 4" piece) kombu
For the tofu and teriyaki sauce (照り焼きのたれ):
14oz medium-firm tofu (木綿豆腐 / momen doufu)
1/3 cup potato starch (or substitute cornstarch)
Neutral oil for frying
2 Tbsp sake
2 Tbsp mirin
2 Tbsp Japanese soy sauce, such as Kikkoman's
1 Tbsp + 1 tsp vegetarian granulated sugar
For a low-alcohol version, substitute mirin with aji-mirin (mirin imitation), or half sugar and half dashi; substitute sake with half rice vinegar and half aji-mirin or sugar.
For the soup:
900g (1 large) acorn or kuri squash
1 small yellow onion, chopped
4 cloves garlic, chopped
1-inch chunk (10g) ginger, chopped
1 Tbsp neutral oil
2 servings (400g) fresh uncooked udon (180g dry; 500g frozen)
1 small Granny Smith apple, cored and thickly sliced
2 tsp kare ko (Japanese curry powder), divided
Salt to taste
Sliced green onion and white sesame seeds, to garnish
Instructions:
For the kombu dashi (昆布だし):
1. Check kombu for mold and wipe off any visible dirt with a damp towel, leaving the white residue. Make a few slits on the edges of the kombu with a pair of kitchen scissors to aid the release of flavor. Decide which kind of dashi to make based on how much time you have.
2. To make cold-brew (水出し / mizudashi) dashi: Soak the kombu in 3 cups of cool water in a covered pot or large bottle in the refrigerator overnight. Remove the kombu and strain; the dashi is ready to use.
3. To make hot-brew dashi (煮出し / nidashi): Optionally, soak the kombu in 3 cups of cool water in a covered pot for 2 hours in a hot environment or up to 5 hours in a cold one. Uncover the pot, place it over medium heat, and allow the water to slowly come to a boil, occasionally skimming the scum from the top of the water with a skimmer or a spoon. Just as the water begins to simmer, remove the kombu and take the pot off heat (the dashi may become slimy and bitter if the kombu is boiled). Strain the dashi; it is ready to use.
Reserve kombu to brew again and make second dashi (二番だし / niban dashi), to simmer with vegetables to make a simmered dish (煮物 / nimono), or to make furikake. It can be sealed in a plastic bag and saved in the fridge for about a week, or in the freezer for several months.
1. Drain tofu, wrap it gently in a kitchen towel, and allow it to sit for about 10 minutes to release water (there is no need to press it).
2. Cut tofu into 1" (2.5cm) cubes and gently toss them in potato or cornstarch (potato starch will yield a crunchier result).
3. Heat about 1/2" (1 cm) of oil in a large pan. Fry tofu, flipping as necessary, until golden brown on all sides. Set aside. (Note that tofu will stick to the bottom just at first; it will release as the starch cooks.)
4. In a large pan (the same one you used to fry the tofu is fine, if you remove the oil), combine tofu, sake, mirin, soy sauce, and sugar. Cook, stirring constantly, until the sauce has thickened to coat the tofu. Be careful not to allow the sugar to burn. Set aside.
For the soup:
1. Prepare the vegetables. Halve the squash lengthwise (through the root) and scoop out the seeds. Peel it with a vegetable peeler or paring knife and cut it into cubes. Peel and chop the onion, garlic, and ginger.
2. Heat oil on medium-high in a large pot until spluttering. Add onions and a pinch of salt and fry, stirring frequently, until softened and translucent. Add garlic and ginger and fry for another minute, until no longer raw-smelling.
3. Add 1/2 tsp curry powder and stir to combine. Add the cubed squash and sauté, stirring occasionally, for a few minutes.
4. Add dashi and another 1/2 tsp curry powder. Cover and raise heat to high to bring to a boil. Reduce to a low simmer and cook for aboute 15 minutes, until squash is very tender.
5. Remove from heat and allow to cool slightly. Blend contents of the pot with an immersion blender, or in a blender or food processor, until liquid and even in texture. Cover.
For the udon:
1. Bring a large pot of unsalted water to a rolling boil. Shake excess starch off of the noodles and add them to the pot.
2. Cook, stirring occasionally with chopsticks or a pasta spoon, until the noodles are cooked through and no longer taste raw. This will take 10-13 minutes for fresh or dried noodles, and 13-15 minutes for frozen. If your frozen noodles are parboiled, they will only need to be blanched for 30 seconds to a minute: be sure to read the package instructions.
The noodles should be slippery and neither hard in the center (if dried) or mushy on the outside, but firm and “koshi” (こし or コシ; “with body,” “al dente”).
3. Drain and rinse with cold water to halt cooking and rinse off excess starch. Set aside.
For the tofu:
1. Drain tofu, wrap it gently in a kitchen towel, and allow it to sit for about 10 minutes to release water (there is no need to press it).
2. Cut tofu into 1" (2.5cm) cubes and gently toss them in potato or cornstarch (potato starch will yield a crunchier result).
3. Heat about 1/2" (1 cm) of oil in a large pan. Fry tofu, flipping as necessary, until golden brown on all sides. Set aside. (Note that tofu will stick to the bottom just at first; it will release as the starch cooks.)
4. In a large pan (the same one you used to fry the tofu is fine, if you remove the oil), combine tofu, sake, mirin, soy sauce, and sugar. Cook, stirring constantly, until the sauce has thickened to coat the tofu. Be careful not to allow the sugar to burn. Set aside.
For the apples:
1. Wash and cut apples into slices about 1/2" (1 cm) thick. Coat them in the remaining curry powder.
2. Heat margarine in a large pan on medium until melted and sizzling. Reduce heat to low and add apple slices in a single layer. Fry, flipping once, until slightly softened and browned on both sides. You still want a bit of bite to them!
To assemble:
1. Reheat the broth on the stovetop. Submerge the noodles in a pot of hot water for about 30 seconds to warm. Divide noodles into individual serving bowls and cover with broth, apples, tofu, sliced green onion, and sesame seeds.
#vegan cooking#recipes#vegetarian recipes#Japanese#American#fusion#squash#acorn squash#kuri sqash#udon#soups#apple#tofu
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breakfast hours
61. surprising your lover from behind, smacking a kiss on their cheek
bakugou katsuki x gn!reader, 1.1k words, sfw + cw food
in magazine interviews, you often said you wouldn’t trade your job as a pro-hero for the world.
and there’s some truth to that statement, despite it being something planted in your mouth by your public relations specialist—because ensuring the safety and protecting the smiles of all the citizens in Japan is a worthy, meaningful job.
but saying you wouldn’t trade heroism for a few lazy weekend mornings here and there was a complete lie.
you miss everything about them—sleeping in till whenever, getting roused by the gentle sunlight that warms your room through your thin curtains, waking up at your own pace. lazing in bed while scrolling through your social media, taking a long shower, changing into something that wasn’t your hero costume for once.
and the best part of every morning: breakfast, no longer a necessity but a privilege. sometimes superheroes skip breakfast too—and having to get up at the crack of dawn every single day has ruined your appetite in the mornings. even the thought of chomping down on some plain crackers and water already has your stomach churning in discomfort.
but while slow weekends as a pro-hero were hard to come by, weekends with your pro-hero boyfriend are even rarer. you can count on one hand the number of times you had the privilege of waking up next to him after the sun had gone up. and most times, unlike the cute couple pictures you see on pinterest or instagram, there aren’t any elaborate breakfast spreads or sweet cuddles to look forward to—only soft complaints of it being too bright, can’t sleep or the traffic downstairs being too fuckin’ loud or it being too early for us to be awake, damn it.
today was an exception.
today, you and katsuki managed to sync up on a rare weekend off, and he was making the most of it—the hour hand on your kitchen clock has barely reached the number eight, and katsuki already has a pot of miso soup going on the stove, rice steaming away in the rice cooker, and various vegetable side dishes all lined up on the dining table.
safe to say, you were beyond impressed when you get up and see the spread.
katsuki’s focused on rolling up tamagoyaki in his favourite frying pan, another eye trained on the salted mackerel grilling away in the corner, so he doesn’t hear the sound of your slipper-clad feet padding up to him. in an instant, you have your arms circled around his waist, smacking a loud muah! to his cheek which had him jumping away from you instantaneously.
“what the— don’t do that! i’m cooking and there’s hot oil here! plus i nearly broke the stupid omelette—” he’s rambling away now, sparing you a second-long glare before he’s ushering you towards the dining table. “sit down and wait, shrimpy. don’t touch anything.”
you only giggle at his concern and his scowling grumpy face that held no real malice. it was hard to be serious around him when he was wearing one of your aprons—a well-worn, kitten-patterned one that was far different from his usual all-black fashion, and you only laughed harder when you spotted his butt crack peeking out of his low-hung sweatpants when he turned around and stomped back into the kitchen.
a quick glance at the clock—almost eight now—told you that you would typically be finishing up patrol by now. but today, you indulge in the privilege of watching your grumpy boyfriend perfect his tamagoyaki roll for you—because he has standards to uphold in this house.
at eight a.m. sharp, katsuki rounds the dining table with your breakfast: a slab of grilled mackerel, miso soup with a generous helping of tofu cubes bobbing in it, golden-yellow tamagoyaki, and steaming hot rice ladled into your favourite bowl.
you take in the spread before you, a traditional breakfast that was worlds different from the stale granola bars you’d chuck in your bag on the way out the door. despite it being made of simple ingredients, you could feel the love and effort katsuki put into cooking for you, evident in the careful way he rolled up your omelette and the extra cubes of tofu in your soup.
“thank you for the meal, katsuki.” you beamed over at him, genuinely giddy with happiness. it wasn’t everyday that you got to share a homely meal with your lover first thing in the morning, and the bare domesticity of it comforts you in a way you couldn’t explain,
“thank you for not getting in the way,” he bites back sarcastically, but the look he shoots you is fond and filled with longing. like he’s hungry too, not just for food, but for this very moment. who knows when will be the next time you can have breakfast together again?
the pair of you clasp your hands together in front of your chests. “itadakimasu.”
you pick up your chopsticks, mouth already watering. you sink your teeth into the pillowy fluffiness of your favourite tamagoyaki, a delighted hum falling from your lips at the savoury, juicy taste. you can detect a hint of dashi broth in the roll—just the way you liked it, and your heart warms at the thought of katsuki remembering that little tidbit.
i’m so happy i could die now, you think to yourself, stuffing rice into your mouth.
CLUNK!!
fuck, didn’t actually mean that.
your eyes meet katsuki’s immediately, alarmed by the unnaturally dull, heavy sound that reverberated through the room.
“‘fuck was that?” katsuki asks through a mouthful of fish, just as confused as you.
silence. your ears stay pricked, listening for any other sound that was out of place on this serene saturday morning.
silence. your concerned expression mirroring that of katsuki’s.
silence. the faint, faraway rush of traffic and birds.
then another startling CLUNK!!, exponentially louder now, and you and katsuki were out of your seats within seconds.
a quick scan of the horizon from your window very quickly revealed the cause of the suspicious sound: what looked like a metal-wielding quirk-user gleefully dropping orbs of metal from the high-rise building across yours.
“that fucker— littering is prohibited,” katsuki growls beside you, already rushing off to get his gauntlets.
“since when did you care about the rules, baby?” you ask, hot on his heels.
“i care about my damn breakfast. i’ve been waiting for this the whole week.”
“ha, same.”
you shoot a mournful look back at your plates, barely touched and still steaming hot. “think we can get back here before the food gets cold?”
“i don’t think so, shrimpy.” katsuki smirks, ever-confident. “i know so. let’s go.”
a/n: take this as an apology for the angsty piece i uploaded recently hehe. thank you for reading!
(series masterlist) (masterlist)
#bakugou x reader#bakugo x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugo katsuki x reader#bnha x reader#bakugou fluff#bnha fluff#bakugo fluff#bakugou x you#bakugo x you#bakugou x y/n#bakugo x y/n#bakugou katsuki#bnha#yuna writes#a hundred different kisses writing game
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plsplspls go into more detail about your silly little au, i need them for my brainrot(only if you want to ofc ^^!)
*Cracks knuckles* Buckle tf up bc this au has been rotting my tofu brain for several days now <3
SO. Personality switch au? Or alignment switch au? Not sure what to call it. But all we know is that Scarab is yellow and almost nice now and Prismo is well… Nightmo.
Nightmo loves messing around and twisting the wishes of his visitors in the worst ways possible. Nobody likes this freak, but it’s hard to not develop a sick sense of humor when you can’t even use the time cube-provided tv because of how bright the screen is! Dude’s just sitting up in here all by himself in the dark most of the time.
Scarab (or Goldie, which I’m going to call him sometimes to differentiate between him and OG!Scarab) is a god auditor… if you can really even call him that. The guy majorly sucks at his job, often failing to catch his quarry because he’s weak to sob stories. The guy ultimately wants to do good by both the multiverse but also all beings who reside in them, which is really hard when you’re supposed to be an unfeeling space cop. Orbo’s on his ass about his failed missions all the time, which leads him to picking up Nightmo’s bounty (the guy really needs a breakthrough, okay ;-;?)
So anyways, Nobody has been able to catch and contain the rogue wish master, bc, like, he can simply poof you away into some god awful forbidden corner of the multiverse, always making sure to snatch the offender’s crystal beforehand so they’re stuck. Worse, if he finds you interesting enough, he’d toy with his hunters-turned-captives until he’d get bored and resort to the same measure mentioned previously. Goldie knows that he’s got like. No chance against this guy, so what does he do?
He makes a wish. Simply surrender himself to the vessel to be turned into the Citadel. Simple enough right?
Nightmo, obviously, seriously misconstrues Goldie’s wish.
“Oh~? Which ‘vessel’ am I supposed to surrender myself to, bug?”
“W-what? Obviously the one in my hand! What other vessel is there?”
Needless to say Nightmo’s been itching to get out there in the multiverse, but he wouldn’t be able to do much squished into that pitiful egg, but that pretty, /shiny/ body of Goldie’s? Oh, that would do just fine~
Wish granted! Goldie’s stuck with the worst mind-roomate ever until he can physically bring himself back to headquarters to turn the wish master in for his heinous crimes! Which, with Nightmo at the steering wheel, was not going to happen anytime soon. Loopholes are so fun to exploit~!
Shenanigans ensue 💕
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New doll diorama is up! This one took a while because there are lots of props, plus I had to decide on the perfect design. :D
Have you ever been to a themed cafe? They're very common in Japan, ranging from anime to video games to role play. Some are permanent, others are pop up (temporary). The interiors are always completely decorated in the theme, and the food is also designed in accordance with the theme. Most of these places also have gift shops where you can purchase exclusive items ranging from stationary to clothes to figures to plushies, all revolving around the cafe's theme. So fun!
I tend to always do things in themes, so this was right up my alley. I just knew I wanted to make my own Japanese themed cafe diorama. There is no shortage of options, but I decided on a Gudetama cafe. Gudetama is a Sanrio character, and his name literally means "lazy egg." This adorable little egg can be seen in a variety of scenarios, usually being prodded to not be lazy. It's quite amusing! I looked up actual Gudetama cafes so I could make my design as authentic as possible. Almost all of them featured bright yellow walls in a variety of patterns with huge wall decals of the star character on them. Smaller wall art was also common, and the wood floors even had a yellowish hue to them to finish off the look. Statues and figures were also prominent, so I placed a white cube shelf in the scene to hold some of my mini Gudetama items I've had for a long time (didn't even have to buy new stuff for this scene!), as well as the menus and place mats that I made. I also painted all the chairs yellow (they were originally purple) and painted the table base white (they were pink). The booth is borrowed from the Licca-chan revolving sushi set.
So here we have a group of dolls enjoying the themed goodies! All the food items are from Re-Ment, and the sets included a lot more - I just couldn't fit any more dolls in there LOL. And of course, this being Japanese themed, I had to use my Azone dolls. They're a better fit for these chairs and tables anyway since they're not as tall as Barbie, so they fit her size furniture better than she does LOL. Plus - interchangeable hands! YES!
Overview of the diorama showing all the wall art and designs:
Left plate: Curry. Right plate: Ramen.
Curry:
Ramen:
Of course ani-ME is on the dessert :D
Left plate: Cake & ice cream. Right plate: Parfait.
Cake & ice cream:
Parfait:
Left plate: Hot cakes (aka pancakes). Right plate: Kanitama (crab omelet).
Hot cakes (aka pancakes):
Kanitama (crab omelet):
Left plate: Ramen, fried egg, & salad. Right plate: Butatamadon (pork rice bowl).
Butatamadon (pork rice bowl):
Ramen, fried egg, & salad:
Cube with various Gudetama figures/merchandise, plus the menus and place mats I made:
Menu (two-sided) Fun fact: Every single item on the menu is a genuine Re-Ment Gudetama product. I don't have every set, but I included them on the menu anyway:
#my plastic life#tenderwolf#doll photography#one sixth scale#azone international#azone pure neemo#kiku ningyo#anime doll#azonejp#gudetama#gudetama cafe#themed cafe#japanese cafe#japanese themed cafe#japanese doll#rement#myfroggystufffanpics#azone aika#azone fuka#azone alisa#azone lycee#azone himeno#azone miu#azone koron#doll diorama
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Homemade
Masterlist
Back in the cycle, while he was still a new spark but way before he was in charge of Nyon or when he enlisted in the autobot academy, Rodimus, or in that time, Hot Rod, was a servoful for his mentors in more than one way.
You see, in Nyon most of the time when new sparks emerge they are cared by the whole community as they have the tendency to emerge in batches of 5, more or less, but it is only normal to see a group of mechs in charge of them and is also normal to see a protoform bond deeper with a certain mech with time, the work of mentors widely integrated in their way of life, Nyon and every of it's compounds improving union in work, in groups, in life as a whole, it wasn't strange to see groups of protoforms in the arms of a a whole group of mechs and the occasional femme as the new sparks recharged without worry, sparklings running and playing around their mentors and never straying far from them even when their city was one of the most secure in all their side of Cybertron.
Hot Rod, little outlier bugger, had the strange tendency to almost give his mentors, a young couple of conjunx endurae new in the group, a malfunction on their fuel pump when doing one of his many mischievous acts, such as jumping from high heights as a ball of fire to see if he could fly or trying to run way too near a rupture or a crevice in the ground that separated the city from the rust sea and was way above more dangerous, his excuse? No one put something to say that it was dangerous before being scolded in how obvious it was to begin with to even put a signal to don't get near there when the unevenness of the ground is more than a clear indicator.
Still, after being scolded from Cybertron and back half the galaxy, one could see the red and orange sparkling with his spoiler slightly down, moping even when his intake wasn't fully formed and all you could see of his faceplate were two big and expressive optics, shinning bright with a little bit of cleaning fluid tears at the verge of falling before calming waves swallowed him whole, looking to the room and seeing a pair of green optics.
Hot Rod knew who it was in an instant and wanted to call his mentor to scoop him out with his servos, his vox and intake weren't totally developed but his EM field was enough to have the mech laugh softly before sitting next to his berth, giving him space to crawl out on his own, when he did so his mentor was already getting any dirt from his hiding spot away from his frame with delicate digits after handling him a cube full of energon, sparkling's grade colorful energon.
Nyon was very know for their resources, for how good the city was by itself, and of course the very know rainbow energon, admired by the changing colors while moving inside the cube or bottle, it was so optic catching that some bots didn't even consume it but just had it as a fancy decorative, Hot Rod would never understand those bots, the rainbow energon that Copperwire made for him was the best and not even a drop was left when he got his servos on a cube or the whole refinery.
It was a luxury, it wasn't exactly pricey, but it was a little dangerous to do as it was energon infused with a literal lighting without blowing away, another reason as for why Copper did it just in some occasions even when he was a pro at it and why Chandler was so against to give it to Hot Rod or any of the other sparklings, but specially Hot Rod, because their energy was out of the roof, and their red sparkling caught fire more times than not after ingesting rainbow energon.
"He is this wild because you spoil him so much", Chandler said while giving a mad and still clean Hot Rod to the hands of his conjunx endurae while he was a mess of muddy oil, only his servos could be seen as it was the only thing holding the burning sparkling, the yellow paint on his digits was slightly burned, another day taking care of him and seeing him almost jump to the oil lake near town, his mentor jumping helm first to stop a disaster, still, it didn't stop Copper from exacting vengeance on Hot Rod's behalf, going to the wash racks and turning the cleaning fluid his conjunx was using to such a low temperature that it could freeze Solus' forge.
So many problems, but they always there, even when things started to be difficult, they were still there for him after he started to live by himself, and Hot Rod was there when they had to starve in order to provide to the newly emerged protoforms, when it wasn't enough.
The only time they weren't with him was when Nyon was destroyed, as they had offlined way before the rule came to Hot Rod's servos in the most dire of times.
The idea of home, is distant, is hard and also a good memory he doesn't want to think about a lot in order to not wear it out, don't forget about it, about them, so he hardly think of Nyon, and woe whoever even brings up the topic and see his crescent fallen spoiler.
And so, he has a mixture of feelings when you just gave him your recent concoction.
He can't still compute on his processor how you did this without killing yourself in the process, it isn't really that difficult for a cybertronian at least, all you need to do is basic chemical formulas and a little of inspiration to have one of these, but humans are different and, as far as he knows, you don't have a filter system or a lab to even begin with to do this kind of thing.
It's like jelly, like the things they had way before the war, it jiggles from one side to the other as he move it but returns to it's first form flawlessly, his optics can't stop looking at the shape that is never forgotten by the material, he hasn't refueled since the last cycle and his HUD is watching what he has in his servo with growing necessity.
It's just, he can't, he could never.
"You have been looking at that cube for an hour or so, what's so great about it?"
Don't even get him started in how obvious it is that you don't know how to do fuel with things on your planet, it's not your area, and he understands why your clothes look new and why the engex refinery requested new filters.
"Rodimus, really, what has gotten into you?"
Your worried expression makes him look even more silly, the biggest and happiest smile on him, trying to put play again with to the endless and patronizing voice of Minimus while reminding him how a captain should act around their crew and how a proper cybertronian should act and handle interactions with an organic in order to prevent a bigger problem, also hearing the mechs aboard talk about xenophilia.
So, he says nothing, only contemplating the jellied energon on the cube, you said that it's supposed to be normal energon and maybe it will clog something inside his engines if he gets to consume it, for him to forget your strange incursion on alien cuisine, telling him to better throw it away even when he knows you have worked hard for it, suffering one or two big explosions to the face or maybe some electrocution by the way.
How could he do so? Before you have the opportunity to stop him, Rodimus does chug it down in one bite.
He doesn't regret it, not even when Ratchet is nagging endlessly on his reckless behavior after cleaning the rainbow colored mess that did indeed obstruc his tank, he doesn't regret it when you call him a fool for eating something that was an experiment.
Rodimus isn't lying when he says: "It was good", and his smile is the epitome of sincerity, you call him an idiot but he knows that there is no real weight on it as you kiss him with desired tenderness.
#reader insert#x reader#transformers#tf mtmte#transformers x reader#transformers idw#transformers x human reader#tf rodimus#rodimus x reader#rodimus x human reader#idw rodimus#rodimus#rodimus prime#rodimus of nyon
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