#ness layouts

[epsiloner]

ARGHHGRHRKGJH HES SO CUTIE PATOOTIE HELLO???? I WAS GONNA CRY WHEN HE DID HE JUST WANTED TO MAKE A SNOWMAN ARJEHRKKRKAJERJK

[corruptedromi]

[rewindr]

. ˑ ִ 🫀+ 📽 ೇ REWIND ✧ ꊞ𐨿

[happyi-ness]

୧ ׅ ♡ 🌺 ۫ ⌒⌒ :)

୧ ׅ ♡ 🏝️ ۫ ⌒⌒ :)

[pfpanimes]

⌕ blue lock - volume covers 17-21.

like or reblog if you save use.

[kiwicidios]

˖ ࣪ 𓂂 * 🌬 ࣪ . 9cake * . ˚

[yvcsstlabouff]

FINDER PROFILE    ⸻   𝑖𝑡'𝑠 𝑎 𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ!

Era óbvio que Yves teria um finder, qual seria a forma mais fácil de se aproximar dele e tentar a sorte? Óbvio que ele não fez o seu perfil com o intuito de alguma visão arrogante sobre si mesmo, mas pela facilidade que uma rede social poderia trazer, até porque o foco do aplicativo eram as relações rápidas e sem grandes expectativas, e era perfeito pra ele de todas as formas. Tentou usar da melhores armas para conseguir chamar a atenção, porque ele tem noção de que só a sua aparência não era o suficiente pra isso. Com o passar dos anos, Yves aprendeu as jogadas certas para fazer com que conseguisse o que queria, porque a arrogância não é atraente, nem mesmo pra ele. Quer tentar? Dê o seu like ( ❤️‍🔥 )

[hellishjoel]

blue collar man

4.1k /  joel miller x f!reader

← masterlist

Summary: Your boyfriend Joel is up to his ears busy with his contracting business. Tired and sore, he comes home to learn you’ve made the rest of the night all about him. 

Warnings/Information/Heads-Up: Fluff, mentions of sex (but no actual sex), mentioned age difference, fluffy fluff fluff because blue collar man Joel Miller deserves it! He’s running a biz-ness! 

A/N: based on this lovely request! I hope I could bring your request to life, I breezed through it so fast because I love him, he’s baby. 

“Thank you for today.” He murmured into the pillow. You barely hear it, but even if you didn’t, you feel it in the way he holds your hand and keeps your arm settled around him.  “Thank you for everything you do, Joel.” You whispered back, your forehead on the top slope of his back as you take in the smell of his body wash combined with the lotion, his body falling slumped in your protective hold. 

Joel had found a lot of success with Miller Contracting over the summer months. Business was booming and his early mornings until late nights were dedicated to working on multiple projects to get things done on time for his clients. Joel worked on referrals mostly, so when he finished a client’s remodeled hill country home in late winter, the client had raved over Joel’s professionalism and hard work to their friends and now he had a list of upcoming projects. 

Truthfully, you didn’t know much about contractors until you started dating Joel. You quickly began to understand the vastness of his duties. One day he could be working on home renovation projects where he was doing demolition like removing the walls or floors, electrical and plumbing work, flooring installation, even down to the last coat of paint. 

Other opportunities were commercial like on a small office building downtown where he did site preparation, set the foundation, worked on the beams and columns, all the way up to finishing the roof. Whatever he couldn’t do himself that was a bit more specialized, he hired subcontractors to work on like heating, ventilation, and air conditioning. 

What he hated the most was landscaping projects. He’d have to do the design layout of a large backyard garden and plant trees and flowers or work on seeding grass if it was a particularly hot Texas summer. Then he would add irrigation systems like sprinklers, pathways for people to walk on, pergolas for outdoor hosting, finishing it off with pretty and unique outdoor light fixtures. God forbid the client wanted a pond. 

“Do you know how annoying koi fish are? They just… stare at ya while you’re tryin’ to work.”

You had grown to love the handy man that Joel was. Before you were moved in to his place, your shitty little apartment needed so much love that your asshole landlord never took the time to come and fix. But Joel would. That was his form of romance. He didn’t bring you flowers or chocolates on the first dates. Joel was replacing your leaky shower head and tightening your jiggly door knobs. He also managed to match the paint color on your walls so he could cover up the scrapes he made after he railed you into your mattress so hard that the frame made a few chips. 

You were so happy to see his business getting the high recognition it deserved, however, Joel was taking quite the beating from it. You could tell by the way he slinked back into the house at the end of the night, his frame hunched over and walking with a slight limp. 

He was sore, muscles aching and knees screaming at him. His joints were swollen by the end of the day and his sweaty, sticky skin ached for a refreshing shower. 

The hardest part was always trying to shut off his mind when he got home. He was already thinking about the next day. What didn’t get done on time, what shipments of supplies were expected, how the delays would set the project back. He needed a break. 

“Can’t take time off right now, baby. I’ve got deadlines to meet.”

There was this one specific project that was giving him hell. He called it the Astor because it was on Astor street. Every night this week he had come home beyond late because of the problems with the Astor. First it was that the project was exceeding the client’s budget, so they were giving him grief about that. Then it was labor shortage stuff, not being able to get people out there which then in turn caused timeline delays. With the client out of the country most of the time, Joel was receiving little to no communication from the owner. He was fighting permit and regulatory issues with the city, every day it was something new that caused a headache behind his eyes. 

His dedication was admirable, but you knew that him being so physically and mentally clouded wasn’t good for him or for Miller Contracting. 

You didn’t know shit about contracting, but you did know Joel. 

You had texted him earlier in the day to drop whatever he was working on no later than 5 o’clock in the evening. You never did that, never told him to leave work early. But the last thing he wanted was for him to come home and have you upset with him. That was worse than any project issue. 

Tonight would be about Joel. Anything you could do to make the stress melt away, you would try. 

Joel pushed open the front door once home, a heavy sigh leaving him as he closed the door back in place and set his lunch box and keys down on the entry table. 

“Joel?” Your voice echoed from the kitchen. 

“Hi, baby.” His voice was low from the lack of energy.

Joel slowly moved down on one knee, a heavy breath exiting through clench teeth as his kneecaps throbbed while he untied one boot, then the other. They were covered in dust even down to the creases, steel toe covers making his feet sore. 

“Hey, how was your day?” You asked as you grabbed a dish towel to wipe your hands with before tossing it on the counter, greeting him halfway as he made his way through the living room. 

You were up on your tippy toes for a kiss, not wanting him to have to bend over and exert himself. He hated when you treated him like an old man, but with this job, you always teased him that it was coming sooner rather than later. 

He kept his hands to himself, knowing they were a bit greasy and sweaty. His overgrown beard hairs tickled your face as you peppered him with a few extra kisses, one of his eyebrows playfully raising. 

“Was fine. Did you see what I texted you?” He asked as he looked down at you, watching as your fingers grabbed the hem of his shirt, helping lift it off his head. 

“Mhm. The HVAC guys didn’t show up until noon even though you scheduled them for nine in the morning. Did you see I texted you back? Five hours ago.” Your teasing tone made him crack a smile. 

Joel was bad at texting. Typical guy thing, typical older guy thing. He said he wouldn’t even have a phone if it wasn’t for work and if Sarah didn’t insist on how texting was the new way of communication. Even though you texted him ten minutes after his initial one, his phone was already back in his pocket and he had long forgotten about your conversation as he returned to his work day. 

His response came out in a chortle, a heavy breath through his nose since he was too tired to chuckle. 

“Sorry, baby. Just wanted to complain, I guess.” He said as he watched you fiddle with his Miller Contracting shirt that had a worn in hole by the neckline. He went to reach for it, wanting to toss it into the dirty clothes bin, but you were quick to hold it to your chest. 

“I’ve got it.” You said as you went to give him a soft kiss to the open plane of his chest, smiling at the salt and pepper chest hair he was sporting. It looked so good on him. You walked off to the bedroom and did it yourself, grabbing him a fresh shirt for the rest of the evening, a pair of boxers, and his worn dark plaid pajama pants he liked. 

Joel’s curiosity had gotten the better of him. A heavenly smell was drawing him into the kitchen, his eyes lighting up at the sight before him. You had green beans in a frying pan and a gravy softly bubbling in a sauce pan. Then in a skillet was the most perfect looking chicken fried steak, the coating coming to the perfect crisp. He pulled the oven handle open just an inch to see golden biscuits rising. 

“I put clean clothes on the counter in the bathroom, go shower, handsome.” You said before returning to the kitchen, frowning as he found his dinner before you had a chance to plate it. 

“Joel.” You playfully scolded, pinching at his hip. “You’re ruining your own surprise.” You teased as you shooed him out of the kitchen, hearing an audible grumble in his stomach. It made you sport a proud grin. It was his favorite meal, said it reminded him of his mom’s cooking growing up with Tommy. 

“I’m making mashed potatoes, too.” You said as you drained the water the potatoes were soaking in, putting them in a new bowl and getting out some milk and butter. 

“You’re makin’ me hungry.” He hummed with a small, tired smile as his hands came up loosely on your hips. 

His hands on you instantly made you grin, gently shaking your head at him as his head came to rest by your own. 

“You’re distractin’ me.” His low voice carrying the weight of his day. 

“No, you’re distracting me.” You made clear as your elbow playfully dug into the core of his stomach. 

“Go shower, please. You smell like drywall dust… and paint.” 

He rolled his eyes with his smile still lingering. 

“Yeah, okay. Thank you.” He said as his lips dropped down to place a sweet kiss of sincerity at the base of your neck, a shiver rolling up you as you let out a huff and returned your focus to your five-star meal. 

You heard the water hit against the shower wall and his small radio crackled to life, finalizing the last touches to Joel’s favorite dinner. 

Joel came back to the living room in the clothes you had set out for him, his hair slicked back wet from his shower. God, he looked so good. 

“Here.” You handed him his plate, seeing his lips part in excitement. His stomach let out an audible rumble. He probably didn’t have a spare minute to eat his lunch today, poor thing. 

The two of you settled on the couch, Joel expecting you to turn on one of your shows since a new episode came out today. 

“Do you uhm.. Maybe wanna watch one of those movies where they’re flying the jet planes? You said you wanted to show me it a while ago.” You offered, glancing over to see him already inhaling his food with the fork scraping across the plate to not let a single bit of gravy escape him. But your offer made him pause. 

“You wanna watch Top Gun? You hate Tom Cruise.”

“Well, yeah, he seems kind of like a douchebag, but it’s okay.” His eyes narrowed on you as he thought about your offer but ultimately shook his head, shrugged, and kept eating. 

“‘t’s fine, you can put somethin’ on.” He said as he stabbed a green bean, smeared some mashed potatoes on it before putting it past his lips. 

You took a deep breath and issued him the remote control. 

“You pick something tonight, honey. It’s your night.” 

That caught Joel’s attention. His head whipped a little to fast towards you, his thick eyebrows furling at the concept. 

“‘t’s not my night. It’s a Thursday.” 

The look you gave him set him straight. 

“Okay, okay.. It’s my night.” He declared in playful defense, taking in a deep breath through his nose and opted for some old Western show he liked. You didn’t care much for it, but Joel did. 

Once you two finished dinner, plates stacked on the coffee table and discarded, your head was on his shoudler and your hand ran slow, soothing circles over his chest. You could feel him breathing deeply, relaxing with you. 

You asked him questions about the main characters, showing genuine interest. Even going as far as to add a dramatic gasp when a shot was fired from a cowboy’s revolver which made him let out a hearty laugh. 

“You’re so full of it.” 

He was talking with a huge grin, you could hear it in how he spoke, and it warmed your heart. 

Towards the end of your night, your hands were in yellow dish gloves as you washed your plates from dinner, sliding the clean ones between the dividers of your drying rack. 

Joel slipped his strong arms low around your waist, his burly shoulders pressing into your own as you nearly toppled over with his presence

“Thanks for dinner tonight. Hit the spot.” He said as he kissed your cheek then on a spot where your jawline met your neck, right by your ear. His beard hairs tickled. You could feel that they were freshly trimmed now, he probably felt a lot better.  

“Night’s not over yet.” You hummed, a playful smile on your lips that he was quick to take notice of. 

“Oh?” His voice dropped an octave, rolling your eyes a bit as you dug your elbow into his stomach for the second time tonight to put some space between you. 

“Okay, cowboy. Relax. How about you go to the bedroom and take your shirt off. I’ll be there in a sec.” Your choice of words were still leading him in a different direction, you almost felt bad. But it was funny watching him get worked up. 

After finishing the dishes and blowing out the eucalyptus scented candles, you peaked into your bedroom. Joel was still cautiously removing his shirt, moving slow as to not disturb his aching muscles. You hated seeing him come home every night like this, as if his body had just been in a fight and taken a brutal beating.

Joel undid the clasp of his watch, the band and watch face dirty and making digging a  bruise into his wrist, but it told the time. He felt better after his shower, having made it a steamy one to relax the stinging in his upper neck and shoulders as well as his lower back. 

His belly was good and full, happy to have something homemade rather than a quick pizza in the oven or just a cold bottle of beer before bed.  

You were taking care of him tonight. Not that you didn’t every other night. He was actually giving you the time to take proper care of him. It felt off at first, taking on all the attention he usually reserved for you after long days. But maybe it’s what he needed. 

His head turned as he felt a warm pair of arms circle just above his plaid pajama pants, your soft fingers undoing the knot he had tied in the front of them. 

“I would’a taken my pants off for ya if you’d just ask.” His tone taunting, stepping out of the soft material before spinning in your arms and attempting to scoop you into him. 

“Lay back, goofball.” You said with that gleaming smile of yours. Made his stomach twist. Whatever you had planned, you obviously wanted the lead on. 

He did as instructed, happily falling into the comfort of the mattress with ease. 

“Close your eyes, please.” Your voice was sweet like honey. He’d follow it into the shadows, into hell, more likely into heaven since it’s where Joel thought you belonged. 

He could already fall asleep, though it was no later than eight. He felt the bed dip first at his legs, your body shifting up to sit by his hip. His hand naturally felt out for you, his warm palm holding you at the curve of your lower back. 

When Joel was given the okay to open his eyes again, he was surprised to see a few candles lit around the room, the golden glow adding a bit of ambiance. 

He watched as you squirted a few pumps of a lotion in your hands, circling it up in your palms to make it a little warm before you started to lather it into his calves. 

The sensation made his breath hitch. You were giving him a massage? He sat up on his elbows and watched the white-ish cream get all wrapped up in his dark leg hair. 

“Darlin’-”

“Shh.”

He tightened his lips, feeling a bit futile all of a sudden. There was a pause before he spoke again. 

“Don’t have to do this for me.” He insisted, his eyes on yours, but you were focused on adding subtle pressure to his calf muscles. 

“Know I don’t have to. I want to. Lay back down.” 

You wanted to. You wanted to take time out of your evening and bathe him in attention. You had cooked one of his favorite meals, and to perfection he might add. You also let him watch a show he wanted to watch, something he knew you didn’t have a taste for. But you were intrigued anyway, to show you cared. 

He was so comfortable and at ease, the problems of today didn’t seem to matter much anymore when you were here to greet him so lovingly. 

Your fingers kneaded gently into his skin, Joel’s eyes dipping closed as he began to sink deeper into the mattress. Of course he couldn’t just do nothing. He had his warm palm splayed on your back where the shirt you were wearing was riding up a little bit. You smiled at the gesture. No matter how much effort you tried to dedicate to Joel, he was still showing his care even when he was dead exhausted. 

You worked the lotion up into his thighs, the slight tug on his hairs making his face crinkle a little. You dared not to get too high, again, not to give him the wrong idea of where the massage was heading. It was okay to be just attentive to his needs for tonight. You could relax him in other more sensual ways another time. He needed something a little deeper.

You leaned down and peppered sweet kisses up his torso and over those salt and pepper chest hairs you admire so much, stopping just at his lips with a small smile. 

“So handsome.” You praised in a whisper, kissing him with a grin on your lips.

He hummed softly and moved his hand to gently cup the back of your head, keeping your kind presence in his proximity just a moment longer. 

“I’m getting too old for you.” He whispered back in a teasing tone, making you bubble up a laugh in your shared space. 

“You’ve always been too old for me.” Your thumb gently glided over his chin and admired a small white patch just at the base where his neck sloped down. “But I’ve never minded. Because you’re a good man. A hard working, blue collar man. It’s very sexy.” You teased with a smile, happy to see one blossom on his lips as well. 

“Thanks for treatin’ me so good tonight. This week’s been…” he let the sentence die before shaking his head. 

“I know, Joel.” You said with a small nod before pressing a gentle kiss on his lips again before sitting up straight. 

“Wanna roll over and I’ll do your shoulders?” 

He let out a breathless laugh as he looked up at you. “Please.” Like you had to ask. 

He wasn’t used to this sort of treatment, but boy, maybe he should start asking for it. 

Joel moved to lay on his belly, letting out a short groan in the process that made your chest flutter. 

You let out a short huff before you straddled his back, topping yourself right on his butt after getting a short groan from Joel for being on his tailbone. 

More lotion was squirted into your hands before you started to apply it across the landscape of his back. 

“We should do a skincare night.” You said, feeling his body shudder at the cold lotion. 

“Uh what?” Joel’s voice muffled against the comforter, his head to one side so he could see you just out of his peripheral.

“You know what skincare is, you see me do it every night.” 

“I don’t know what the he-ll you’re talkin’ ‘bout.” He said, his words stuttering as you pushed particularly harder in his lower back. Jeez, it was knot after knot under your fingertips. 

“Ugh, Joel!” You whined as your motions paused. 

Joel had a habit of doing this. Declaring he had no idea what it was that you were talking about, making you tirelessly explain for several minutes, before he goes ‘Oh, why didn’t you just say that? I know what that is.” It made you roll your eyes each and every time. 

“You’re handsome, but you don’t listen.” You hummed out before cupping your hands at his shoulders and doing circles with good pressure, your upper body weight being put into his stern muscles. 

“All I heard you say is that I’m handsome.” He moaned into the sheets, a blush creeping on your cheeks at his comment, but also his heavenly moan. 

“It’s.. where you apply skincare to your face. You know, using a cleanser, applying an exfoliator, moisturizer..”

This was when Joel started muffling random nonsense into the sheets and you playfully pushed into his crying shoulders harder until he let out another long groan of discomfort. 

“Okay, okay, I know what you’re talkin’ about. Skincare. I don’t need it.” 

You tutted, shaking your head as you held in a laugh. 

“Everyone needs it. Every. One.” You said as you leaned down and kissed the back of his head where his curls were starting to form. 

“Especially you, Joel! Your pores are so big, you’ve got dust and dirt getting all in there. And it’s been so hot outside, your skin’s drying up. Gotta take care of your skin baby.”

“Why? So I’ll look young agian?” He teased as he reached a hand back and squeezed your hip as well as he could from his position. 

“Because it’s good for you. Makes me feel good after a really long day.”

You could feel his eyes on you, a throat hum leaving his lips. “Thought I made you feel good after a really long day.” 

A huff left your lips as you were back to doing circles into his shoulder with your thumbs. “Shut up.”

The last of the lotion had sunk into his skin, the massage hopefully healing more than just his dry skin. 

Night’s like this with Joel were rare, but exceptionally special. He had energy to talk to you about everything under the sun, something you didn’t expect to transpire with your age difference at first. You discussed your mutual plans for the weekend, a barbeque at Tommy’s house. Joel was insisting on you wearing your new bikini, green to match his beautiful eyes. He could be such a horn dog. 

He wanted to stay up as long as he could, but the long day he endured couldn’t help but put weight on his eyelids. His words turned to mumbles, his arms snaking around your waist in his silent gesture to fall asleep with you. 

You shook your head with a small, tired smile, your hands planting themselves on his forearms to put a stop to his motions.

“Turn around.” You whispered, the notion making his tired eyes pop open with a “huh?” leaving his parted lips. 

“You heard me, old man. Turn around.” You said as your hand roamed over his warm hip. 

Joel assumed you didn’t want to cuddle tonight, maybe he was too warm for your taste despite the fan running above the both of you. 

Joel’s chest tightened as he felt your warm body return right behind him, a bashful grin on his face. 

“Are you tryna big spoon me?” His southern accent was dripping heavier than usual with the tiredness stringed in it. 

The question erupted a giggle from you, Joel feeling you kiss over his taut shoulder blade. 

“I don’t know how well I can big spoon you.. You’re so long.” Your arm tightened around Joel’s waist anway, his big hand finding yours as your fingers interlocked. He felt grateful in this moment, albeit a bit shy about the position. He was used to being the big spoon, it was different for him to be on the receiving end. But it was warm and settling, he couldn’t deny that. 

“So I’m uh.. I’m like the ladle to your big spoon?” Joel asked. He could feel your grin on his back, your legs tangling with his own. 

“Yes… you’re the ladle, but even the ladle needs a big spoon.” Joel’s blinks slowed until his eyes were closed, heavy with sleep. 

“Thank you for today.” He murmured into the pillow. You barely hear it, but even if you didn’t, you feel it in the way he holds your hand and keeps your arm settled around him. 

“Thank you for everything you do, Joel.” You whispered back, your forehead on the top slope of his back as you take in the smell of his body wash combined with the lotion, his body falling slumped in your protective hold.

[follow-trick]

⩩   envie na ask um ou mais números plsᵎ  ៸៸      (.εїз)   !! ୧  

Você gosta do seu nome? Caso a resposta seja não, como você gostaria de chamar?

Qual é o seu apelido?

Qual é seu layout no twitter?

Como está a personalização do seu celular?

Tumblr, tiktok ou twitter?

Qual foi a última música que você escutou?

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Qual foi o último livro que você leu?

Qual livro você está lendo no momento?

Você tem meta de livros para ler esse ano? Se sim, quantos?

Você gosta de futebol? Caso a resposta seja sim, para qual time você torce?

Top 5 filmes favoritos.

Top 5 séries favoritas.

Top 5 desenhos/animes favoritos.

Top 5 músicas favoritas.

Top 5 comidas favoritas.

Top 5 personagens favoritos.

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Top 5 tumblrs favoritos

Qual é o seu feat favorito?

Diga algo que você gosta, mas poucas pessoas sabem disso.

Se você pudesse ser um personagem, qual seria?

Qual é sua maior decepção?

Qual foi o momento mais engraçado da sua vida?

Se você pudesse conhecer alguém do tumblr, quem seria?

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Qual é a melhor maneira de começar o dia?

Já quebrou algum osso?

Qual traço na personalidade das pessoas realmente te encanta?

O que você gosta e o resto do mundo não?

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Você tem algum hobby? Qual?

Você toca algum instrumento? 

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Prefere comida caseira ou fast-food?

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Pelo que você é mais grato?

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Você chora com facilidade?

Como você se sente sobre falar em público?

Se o seu eu de hoje pudesse dizer algo para o seu eu de 5 anos atrás, o que você diria?

Qual o pior presente que você já ganhou de amigo secreto?

Qual o melhor presente que você já ganhou de amigo secreto?

Qual foi a melhor edição do BBB?

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BBB, A Fazenda ou você não gosta de reality?

Você gosta de alguma influencer? 

Como você se definiria?

Qual seu estilo de música você mais escuta?

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Frio ou calor?

O que você mais gosta de fazer?

O que mais te deixa irritado?

Qual lugar você tem vontade de conhecer?

Um famoso que você é fã.

Como foi seu dia?

Qual é a sua melhor qualidade?

Qual é o seu pior defeito? 

Para você, o que significa um bom amigo?

Você usa algum perfume? Qual?

Qual seu feriado anual favorito?

Você gosta de assistir alguma coisa enquanto almoça? 

Qual foi a última pessoa que você enviou uma mensagem?

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Para qual lugar você viajou por último?

Qual a pior atitude que um amigo pode tomar contra você?

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Você teria coragem de participar do BBB?

O que mais te faz rir?

Um item de moda que você não gosta.

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Usa lentes, óculos ou não usa nada?

Uma data importante? Por quê?

Qual desenho você mais gostava de assistir?

Caso você queira ter filhos, colocará quais nomes?

Tem alguma foto com alguém famoso ?

[linkandorf]

Adeleine!

How cute! Adeleine has quite a charming art style, in spite of it's relative unfinished-ness. For how young she is, she's pretty talented! I really like her use of hatching in her art, although she draws some pretty interesting things... she got the project layout down pretty well though! Thank you Adeleine for being so punctual with your submission! I can respect an artist that works quick. Debuted in Kirby 64 huh... but didn't she...? No no, I must be thinking of someone else...

[epsiloner]

blue lock matching icons plss

imgs dont belong to me. creds,, @/ktoddevil

[pinetreevillain]

Bro I'm. Your comics and character designs for everyone have permanently altered my brain chemistry (/pos) I cannot stop thinking abt them and I'm forcing ALL of my friends to see them

Also I hope I'm not overstepping by doing this, but a collection of my fav frames (from funny-ness to color to just... amazing layout of the subjects and enviroment)

YOU’RE NOT OVERSTEPPING AT ALL! However, i AM very aware of all the green and blue i have in all my comics lately skkcjsj And I Can’t Even Say That I Changed That lmao IT’S ALL STILL VERY GREEN AND BLUE SIGH

Thank you :,D these comics are a lot of effort and a lot of love. It makes me glad that other people can enjoy them :)

[theres-a-body-here]

Ghostface with Creep!reader Part 2

Ever since you and Danny made your little movie, it went without saying that you two were now a couple

And he's pretty clingy

Like a cat

In between trials he lays his head on your lap at the campfire

Like he owns it

Arms behind his head along with a loud content sigh

He glances to make sure the other killers are watching

"Babe, you're sooooo comfy"

The others either roll their eyes or groan

He chuckles and then rolls over to press his face into your stomach

"Mhhhmmhhmmmhhh"

You let him move into your realm since he never had one

(Think Haddonfield but sunny)

You give him the tour

"And this is where I filmed Jenny's death. She screamed a lot"

"That's hot babe" camera flash

You show him your home

Or at least the Entity's recreation of it

He looks around as you stand proud

There's a long pause

Silence fills the air

"Hey wolfie......your home blows ass"

You slump

siggghhhhh "I know"

Danny helps you spruce up the place while you're at a trial

"Trust me babe, I know what I'm doing. I once killed a interior home designer"

Returning from your trial, you step into the realm once more and enter your "home," the place where Danny had undertaken the task of redecorating. As you take in the changes, you're surprised to find that he's actually done a good job. Furniture has been shifted around to create a more balanced layout, and paintings adorn the walls, adding a touch of life to the otherwise eerie space. You notice it's some of Carmina's work.

You can't help but wonder if he "borrowed" the artwork, considering his........Danny-ness

However, your gaze lands on something that doesn't quite fit the rest of the decorations. A wall adorned with Polaroids depicting his past murder victims catches your attention. It's a stark contrast to the rest of the aesthetic changes he's made.

"Damn it, Danny, the composition is all wrong," you mutter with a hint of frustration, your annoyance stemming from his lack of attention to aesthetics. The Polaroids are haphazardly nailed to the wall, without any discernible pattern or arrangement.

Beside you, Danny simply shrugs and looks at you with an impish grin.

"Well, can't please everyone, can I? Besides, I thought it'd be a fun way to show off my... accomplishments," he responds with his characteristic smugness, his tone unapologetic.

Rolling your eyes at Danny's response, you can't help but mutter a teasing insult under your breath. "Moron," you scoff, your words laced with affectionate amusement.

You both go on stalking dates

Meaning you sneak around the survivor camp and record them from afar

You both giggle like schoolgirls when you throw a pebble at Dwight's head

The nervous wreck of a leader is so confused as he darts his head around

You record everything on your camcorder

"Wolfie, lemme try. Record this"

"Okay, ready"

You focus your viewfinder on Dwight, expecting another pebble

Something suddenly pierces Dwight's neck at full speed

It makes a squelching sound and then a crack as it hits bone

Dwight falls dead

Danny deadass threw his knife at Dwight

The survivor camp erupts into chaos

Danny grabs your hand as you two hightail it out of there

You're both laughing like hyenas

The Entity makes you both walk Demogorgon around the entire realm as punishment

For a whole week

Well at least you're together

As you and Danny navigate the Yamaoka estate, you hold the leash that's tethered to the Demogorgon. The creature's towering form is a stark contrast to the mundane concept of a "dog," yet here you are.

"Hey, Danny, can you hold the leash?" you inquire, a hint of mischief dancing in your voice. Danny simply shrugs and nods as he takes the leash from your hand. You watch with a faint smirk as he wraps the leash around his hand.

Taking advantage of the moment, you calmly reach down to your boot and retrieve a sliver of jerky. With a casual, nonchalant demeanor, you extend the treat towards the Demogorgon. "Here, boy, fetch," you utter, your tone tinged with amusement as you toss the jerky away from you.

In an instant, the Demogorgon reacts, its predatory instincts kicking in as it lunges after the jerky. The force of its movement catches Danny off guard, and he's practically yanked off his feet, the leash becoming a makeshift tether that tugs him along like a ragdoll.

"Asssshoooollllleee!" Danny's indignant yell carries through the air, the word drawn out as he's pulled farther away from you. His insults grow faint as the distance between you increases, his voice eventually becoming a distant echo.

A bout of genuine laughter escapes your lips. Maybe punishment wasn't so bad as long as Danny was there.

Masterlist here

[chocotonez]

hyunjin soft bf hcs

a/n: sorry this took me so long I had to figure out tumblr’s new mobile layout (why the hell is there a tumblr economy now)

warnings/genre: fluff, swearing, brief mention of arguments, lmk if anything else should be tagged!!

-he’s so sweet. like unbelievably so, he’s always looking out for you in his own way.

-if you’re crossing the street he’ll instinctively tighten the grip on your hand without even thinking, or if you’re walking he’ll absentmindedly wrap an arm around your shoulder and help you maneuver through busy sidewalks, or he’ll make sure to unplug your hair blower/hot iron if you forgot LOL

-but he really loves to be taken care of too :)) likes to have little nights where you two just spoil each other and pamper each other while talking about how your week has been, your annoying peer, the new trainee, etc…

-soft kisses 24/7, back of your hand, nape, shoulder, cheek, forehead, it seems like he just wants to kiss you all over

-a face grabber when you two have a genuine kiss, needs you to be as close to him as possible

-is always admiring you, but not just physically, he takes note of your passions or things you do well at and always reminds you that you’re that bitch

-#1 fan, 24/7 posting about you or raving about how great you are, randomly starts sketching you when he has artist’s block, and keeps a Polaroid of you in his wallet at all times

-likes to lay his head in your lap and talk about his day or problems, especially if you end up playing with his hair. something about you always ends up relaxing him

-can be a little bit dramatic lolol, pretending to faint if you forget to give him a kiss when you return home, spamming you with texts when you leave to go to the bathroom/shower/literally just grabbing a snack, and even that one time he lost you in the grocery store so he made a cashier say “hyunjin’s partner to register 3 please,” over the mic

-it wasn’t exactly your proudest moment

-tries to learn from what he did wrong especially after arguments, he wants to know how he can be the best boyfie for you

-but he also wants to see you improve, so sometimes he can be a little hard on you, constantly reminding you to drink water, and he doesn’t let you procrastinate or build bad habits

-he’s a baby but your his baby but to you he’s your baby and it’s just a positive feedback loop of adorable-ness

-can be a very loud lover with his displays of affection, candlelit dinners or dancing in the rain, etc etc, but I feel like a lot of people overlook the little things with him

-intertwining your fingers while you cuddle, hugging you from the back while you cook, brushing hair out of your face and giving you a peck, or just how he looks at you so lovingly through pretty much everything

-sigh. <3

[stories-and-chaos]

Tarnished

[Helluva Boss AU where Blitzø’s childhood theft from Stolas’ palace is discovered and major consequences ensue for everyone involved. Concept inspired by this AU, Push. Trying to stick with established lore but taking some liberties to make the drama work. Multiple headcanons from various sources I’ve come across included as suits the story. Starts roughly five years before Murder Family, I’m making assumptions about the timeline]

[18+ rating for language, implied sexual content, violence, alcohol consumption and general Hellaverse-ness]

[Part 1/?? Word count: 3761]

———————

Moxxie’s back slammed into the rough wooden bed frame as he heard the distinctive clang of prison bars rattling shut. He still couldn’t believe Chaz had just left him there. Grabbed the goods and ran. The imp realized his boyfriend was just as shitty out of bed as he was in it. He started tearing up as he climbed on the bottom bunk. Moxxie knew his dad wouldn’t bail him out or anything. He might have been the boss’s only (legitimate) son but he was also the most junior member of the family. And Crimson was not a sentimental imp.

Moxxie had been caught red clawed too, pinned by the security gate. No need for any formalities like a trial in the Greed Ring. A mugshot, strip down, and forced into a jumpsuit before the cops tossed him in a cell. Of course, Greed’s police force was basically a mafia on a wider scale.

“Soooo, what’re you in for?” A voice drawled from the top bunk. Moxxie hadn’t realized he had a cellmate. Oh crumbs, had the other demon heard him crying?! If there was a way to ensure you didn’t get out of prison in one piece, it was letting others know how weak you were the moment you were locked up. His tail reflexively whipped closer, as if trying to hide himself.

“Okay, not much of a talker, are you?” The voice almost sounded jovial. In prison? A squeak of the mattress and the other prisoner launched himself to the floor with theatrical flair. Before he could do more than sit up and blink the tall imp gripped his hand to shake. Not the vice-like grip his father used, hard enough to make claw shaped indents into the other’s hand. It was a firm, friendly shake.

“I'm Blitzø, the "o" is silent. I'm sure we're going to get along just fine. So, what's your deal? What'd you do? Who'd you diddle? You look like someone good with a gun. You look like someone who could shoot up an office-“ Moxxie tried to interject, but the other imp plowed on.

“-and I hope you are 'cuz I got a plan to get us out of this dump but I'm going to need some help, you think you can give me a hand? I need to get out to my daughter. The babysitter will kill me if I don't get back soon. Also I got some business scheduled in Pride that I gotta get back for. Do you like kids? 'Cause lemme tell 'ya. They're a-fucking-dorable.” Moxxie felt his eyes warming up with more tears but his lips were forming a shaky smile. He realized he hadn’t smiled like this since… well he could barely remember. At first he thought since Chaz ditched him, but really it was since his mom “disappeared.”

It took a couple of days for the cellmates to enact Blitzø’s plan. Moxxie had to learn the complex’s layout and they had to make sure they could get to a weapon cache. Their escape was successful, both of them got banged up, and Moxxie’s body count tripled as a result of the escapade.

A few things they learned about each other: Blitzø’s circus background made him extremely agile and prone to acrobatic feats in a fight. He was batshit crazy once the ichor started flowing but he kept his eye out on his partner. The scarred imp backed up Moxxie more than once when he floundered while they fled for the Pride Ring. His plans were grandiose but he was quick to adapt and quicker to protect his cohort.

On the other claw, Moxxie was even better with firearms than Blitzø thought. So long as the kid kept his composure, he didn’t miss a shot. It was almost magickal and he saw more magick than most of their kind. The kid seemed quiet and well mannered for the most part. He could get absolutely fucking feral in a fight, becoming an even better shot if that was possible. But he was insecure and desperate for approval. The pure shock on his face when Blitzø told him “nice work Mox,” after they got out told the older imp that he’d probably never been praised in his life.

One bonus to no trial before you were thrown in prison? No one was too keen on dragging you back if you got out. Especially if you massacred 80% of the guards on your way out, traumatized 18%, and awakened some very interesting feelings in the final 2%. It wasn’t worth spending hard grifted money chasing down someone who would just do the same thing even if you managed to catch them. If they’d run off from Mammon, the escaping prisoners would be hunted down. But otherwise, even the police mafia didn’t give that much of a shit.

The duo had snagged a couple of overcoats so their bright orange jumpsuits would stand out less. The plan was to get to Blitzø’s apartment, check up on his kid, grab some cash to rent Moxxie a room for the night and change before Blitzø had to be at his appointment.

Except once they got to the Pride Ring, Blitzø started freaking the fuck out. “Shitshitshitshitshiiiiiiitfuckingdammit.” A stream of profanities just kept coming out of his mouth as Blitzø picked up his pace.

“Um, sir?” It was drilled into Moxxie to address superiors as sir or ma’am; Blitzø had taken charge during their escape and didn’t seem to mind being called sir. “What happened, you started panicking once we got here.” This was presumably the older imp’s home turf, yet he was more off balance than at any other point in the past three days.

“FUUUUUUUCKokay Mox, change of plans.” He spun around and grasped the shorter imp by the shoulders. “I lost track of the time and I can’t miss this appointment. Do you know anyone in this ring that can put you up for the night?” Blitzø doubted it. It seemed like the kid had stayed in Greed up until now. A quick head shake confirmed that. “You got two choices, cause I don’t have time to get you someplace first. You can head off alone and we’ll meet up tomorrow or you can come with me, play along, and hope it’s not worse than prison.”

Moxxie was taken aback; first off that was the most words in a row without swears he’d heard from Blitzø. Second, “Where are you going that’s worse than prison?”

“A Goetian estate.”

Moxxie’s jaw dropped. He might as well have said he was meeting up with Lucifer. Yet… Blitzø had an appointment to be there. And it was important enough that he couldn’t even check on his kid first. Not to mention, wandering around an unfamiliar area wearing a prison jumpsuit was next to suicidal. “I’ll stick with you sir.”

“Ballsy! I knew I fucking liked you Moxxie.” He whirled around and started loping toward the fancy ass side of the city. “Keep up Mox! We gotta go!”

It took about half an hour of running and weaving through crowds but they made it before…whatever time Blitzø was so intent on outrunning. He had started running even faster about halfway, his desperation more than apparent. Once he passed through the gates, all the tension left his body. He slumped to the ground; Moxxie hesitated as he gaped at the ornate fencing. The gate and elegant fence had the symbol of the Goetia family (a crowned heart) emblazoned every few yards.

Moxxie had grown up a privileged life, especially for an imp. Servants, tutors, a well stocked manor. But the building in front of him was on another level. It was more of a palace than anything; multistoried with heraldic banners hanging, multiple manicured gardens, statues strategically placed and the master’s sigil glowing prominently on the wall. And that was just what he could glimpse in the full moon’s light. This was the difference between money and royalty.

“Last chance Moxxie. C’mon in or head off somewhere and I’ll meet you at my office at noon tomorrow. If you’re still standing around here in a few, those fuckers will drag you with me anyway.” He gulped and stepped onto the grounds next to the other imp. “Still ballsy.” Blitzø’s grin was back.

“Here’s what’s going to go down. Any minute now some beefy hellhound fucks are gonna show up to haul me in. They might grab you, might let you walk. Either way, keep your mouth shut and just back me up if I ask. Hopefully we won’t see that overdressed bitch tonight but if she’s around don’t make eye contact. And-“ whatever he was about to add was cut off as four hellhounds jogged up.

Blitzø wasn’t kidding about them being beefy. They were all different breeds but they all had biceps as big as his head, wrapped in artfully ripped suits. The matching suits, earpieces, sunglasses, and crisp posture gave them an air of professionalism that was a sharp contrast to his dad’s goons.

“Oh look, it’s the Chucklefuck squad and the Douchenugget duo. Who’d you piss off to land the night shift?” Blitzø taunted the Hounds, seemingly indifferent to the fact any one of them could snap him in half. Two of them grabbed Blitzø by the arms, grinning sadistically at the thought of manhandling the smaller demons.

“Lady Stella specifically requested we escort you in, Blitzø.” Blitzø winced “Satan fucking dammit.” Apparently Lady Stella was the overdressed bitch he’d mentioned. “She’s got a party tonight so she doesn’t have to hear your scrawny ass getting pounded. But she knew how much you’d like friends to bring you home.” The Hellhound punctuated his words with a sharp snap of his teeth.

Home? Moxxie backpedaled in confusion, only to bump into the leg of another security Hound. Said Hound grabbed him around the torso, easily pinning both arms and leaving Moxxie’s hooves dangling far from the ground. He struggled, trying to at least get back to the ground. The size difference and Moxxie’s lack of weapons meant he didn’t stand much chance at the moment. The pair with Blitzø took the lead, not caring that his dragging hooves were tearing furrows into the lawns or creating sparks on the paths.

Blitzø let them, worn out from the prison break and subsequent dash back to Pride. He was too tired to try to keep pace with his “escorts.” He kept glancing back to Moxxie, trying to reassure him. The younger imp was clearly terrified. He couldn’t really help the kid at the moment; the bulldog faced Hellhound carrying him lifted his lip whenever Blitzø looked back.

Fuck this fucking farce and fuck Paimon with a rusty crucifix for doing this, Blitzø thought to himself for the ten thousandth time in his life. Best to go through the motions as quickly as possible. The group arrived at one of the drawing rooms and Blitzø was dumped unceremoniously on the thick carpet.

The whirlwind trip through the estate proved to Moxxie that royalty had a whole different definition of luxury from what he knew. Paintings, mosaics, sculptures, exotic plants were just the beginning as they rushed through hallways wider than his bedroom at his dad’s. He’d lost count of how many doors they passed before they reached one in particular.

Blitzø was thrown to the ground but the one holding Moxxie didn’t loosen his grip. Blitzø glared back at the Hellhounds, hissing. The Hounds responded with low growls. Everyone went silent when a lithe figure snapped the cover of a book shut and unfolded itself from a lounge by the fireplace. This had to be one of the Goetia, presumably the master of this estate.

His extreme height was the first thing Moxxie noticed. Moxxie was about average for an imp in height; the glimpses he’d seen of imp servants in this maze were all much smaller. Blitzø was on the taller end of the spectrum but the Hounds were easily double his height. This royal demon towered over them all. You could stack Moxxie, Blitzø, and even one of the small servants on a Hellhound’s shoulders and they still would barely be eye level with the demon’s glowing eyes.

At least the bottom set. He had two sets, a large bottom pair and a thinner set above that could have been mistaken for elegant eyebrows if they hadn’t been glowing red. Glowing eyes weren't unusual for hellborn, but the deep red pupil-less aura was still intimidating. The white facial disc only enhanced that aura with its contrast.

What could be seen of the demon’s form was covered in smooth grey feathers, sheening in the firelight. The plush robe he wore was lightly cinched at the waist and barely clung to the shoulders, showing the feathers covered the majority of his body. He stalked deliberately to where Blitzø was climbing to his hooves, features set in a stern expression.

“St- Master Stolas,” Blitzø stuttered as the avian demon loomed above him. Master?! Oh crumbs, what in Satan’s name is going on?! Was all that talk about a daughter, starting up a business, growing up in the circus, everything just a lie? “I got back as quick as I could, I didn’t even have a chance to check on Loonie first…” Stolas cut him off with a gesture. Apparently the daughter talk wasn’t a lie at least.

Stolas glanced at the Hound carrying Moxxie. “Put the little one down,” he ordered in clipped, cultured tones. “I’ll deal with them from here.” The Hounds exchanged glances and grins. Suddenly Moxxie was on the ground when his captor opened his arms. “As you wish, Prince Stolas.” The imp was getting serious mood whiplash. Stolas wasn’t just a member of the Goetia but one of the princes. Maybe Blitzø was right; this was worse than prison.

The guards hadn’t left the room before Stolas leaned over Blitzø, foreheads nearly touching. “What the FUCK were you doing in the Greed Ring that landed in you prison!” The Hellhounds grins grew wider as they shut the doors and Moxxie was sure he heard the slap of a high five. “Are you not being careful enough in the other Rings? You know if you get in trouble I have to get you out of it. And we don’t want that, do we my itty bitty imp?” Stolas punctuated his words with taps between Blitzø’s nostrils. His words were furious but Moxxie could see his expression softening once the doors clicked shut. He had plenty of experience being berated and threatened by Crimson, but he was getting so many mixed signals he didn’t know what to do.

“A job went bad, Master. It won’t happen again.” Despite just having a royal yell at him, Blitzø’s smirk was back. Without guards around he was able to give his companion a double thumbs up while replying. His voice sounded utterly defeated but his posture had perked up.

“Luckily for you, what passes for authority in the Greed Ring isn’t likely to give a shit about a couple of escapee imps. Speaking of which,” four dazzling red eyes locked onto Moxxie. “Who is this that you’ve dragged along?”

“Moxxie got tossed into my cell, I couldn’t just fucking leave him there. He’s a crazy good shot, figured he’d be a good candidate for that project we talked about.”

“Hmmmm,” Stolas seemed to be looking the young imp over. It was hard to tell without any pupils. “We will discuss this later. For now,” the prince continued in a haughty tone, “we need to establish the punishment for your little slip up during your extraneous activities. Both of you, follow me.” Stolas turned, his robe and tail feathers swirling dramatically around him. Moxxie looked nervously in Blitzø’s direction. There was a faint glow under the older imp’s shirt collar as he replied “Yes Master Stolas.” He gestured for Moxxie to follow, not at all concerned about what Stolas might have planned as “punishment.”

Apparently the room they’d been delivered to was the first and most public in the master suite. They entered what looked like a well appointed bedroom with a huge canopied bed adorned with blankets and a nest of deep cushions. There was a bookshelf inset in an alcove next to a chaise lounge and chairs, a small desk, and hints of a bathtub on a raised dais shrouded by curtains. Candles and moonlight made the Goetia emblem glimmer wherever it was stamped or embroidered.

The door locked shut behind them, nearly making Moxxie jump out of his skin. As soon as the door was shut, Stolas swooped down to Blitzø, cupping the imp’s cheeks with a tenderness that made his yelling in the drawing room seems like a hallucination. “Are you alright dearest?” the prince cooed as he stroked Blitzø’s head. “Mmph, I’m fine Stolas, really.” Blitzø’s voice was muffled from Stolas’ talons smushing his face. “Just tired from that last sprint. Almost didn’t make it in time. Fucking Cinderhella bullshit.”

“I’m sorry darling. I’ll keep working on it. I’ve been so worried the past few days.” Apparently satisfied that Blitzø was unhurt, the owl demon moved to nuzzling and preening the imp’s particolor skin.

Blitzø gasped at the soft feathers brushing his neck. “Stolas, if you wanna fuck as part of my “punishment” I’m on board, but I don’t think Moxxie wants to watch.” He looked at the other imp over the prince’s head. His face was flushed and a lazy lascivious smile spread across his lips. “Unless you wanna watch Mox. I’ve always liked an audience.” He waggled his eyebrows; Moxxie couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

Stolas’ eyes jerked open. He let out a surprised hoot before shooting up to his full height. “Ah! Um, yes, o-of course! We can pick this up later Blitzy.” Blitzy? Within moments Stolas had shifted from a pissed off royal yelling at his property to a flustered loverboy using pet names. “Apologizes for not properly introducing myself earlier.” He bowed with a deep flourish, putting his face eye level to Moxxie. “My name is Stolas, Prince of Ars Goetia.”

Blitzø stretched, popping vertebrae all down his spine and tail. “Didn’t your daddy tell you not to bow to imps?” The same jovial tone Moxxie heard when they first met was back in his voice.

Stolas snorted. “My father, the shit eating bastard that he is, can go fuck himself. Preferably with something full of splinters to join the stick up his arse.” The prince was just as foul-mouthed as Blitzø, with the addition of a fancy vocabulary. He guided Blitzø to the lounge and offered a nearby easy chair to Moxxie. It was built for a Goetia, meaning any imp had to jump to climb up and their feet would dangle childlike once seated. However Stolas produced a step stool from the book alcove, so he could seat himself with more dignity.

“Hi, I’m Moxxie Knolastname.” Hopefully neither of them would recognize the name of one of the Greed Ring’s crime families. “Sir, what the fuck is going on? You didn’t mention any of this before we got to the gates. What was all that about?” Moxxie gestured wildly to the rest of the palace, hoping to indicate everything that had just happened.

“Eh, guess you deserve some explanation. Not the best time but fuck it.” Blitzø rubbed at his forehead, specifically the All Imp Circus brand in the middle. In the space of a blink it changed from a black skull faced heart to a white heart topped by a crown, flanked by decorative lines. “Short version, my dad fucked me over and sold me to the Goetia. His dad,” he jerked a thumb at the lanky owl reclining next to him, “decided to add to the jackassery and bound us.”

“And I am not about to copy his example so I give my darling Blitzy as much free reign as I can manage.” Stolas wrapped his arms and legs around Blitzø with a look of glee. It was simultaneously tender, protective, and possessive. “Unfortunately, members of both my family and staff are quick to spread word to my wilted prick of a father and other members of Ars Goetia, so we maintain a semblance of the master/slave dynamic outside my chambers. Hence, all that.” Stolas vaguely waved in the same direction as Moxxie had before latching back onto Blitzø. “Eugh, Blitzy, you smell awful. That prison cannot have been sanitary. Please get cleaned up dearest, you and… Moxxie, was it? Hopefully we have something clean that will fit you; you’re a bit taller than much of my household staff.”

“I’m sure we’ve got some of my old stuff that’ll work. But seriously Stolas, I couldn’t check on Loonie before this. Can I pop out real qui-”

“Loona is fine.” Stolas interjected with a comforting tone. “I had one of the maids check up on her and the ‘babysitter.’ She let them know you were delayed and offered overtime pay to the young lady.” The maid, one of the few who was loyal to Stolas and Blitzø, relayed that the imp girl, while possessing a distinct country charm, was “thoroughly pissed” at having to watch over an angsty teenager without pay. She’d been all smiles again when informed of the extra money she was being advanced.

Blitzø took a deep breath of relief. He’d adopted the nearly adult Hellhound just a few months ago and they were still getting used to each other. He didn’t know what she’d do on her own yet, hence the babysitter. She was an imp from Wrath he’d gotten to know during the Harvest Festival Stolas had to officiate. She decimated opponents in the Pain Games so Blitzø knew she could handle just about anything.

“Thanks Floof,” he gave Stolas a quick frenching before heading through an inconspicuous door near the bed. He pushed Moxxie along and heard Stolas’ trilling voice call out. “Make sure you put those jumpsuits in the laundry hamper. I look forward to having a little prison bitch around later.” All of Blitzø’s spines stood up at the thought and a tingling warmth raced over him. Not about to let Stolas get the last word, he shot back through the closing door, “I’m sure Mox’s will fit you like those slutty rompers you like to prance around in.” He could hear hooting chuckles from the other room while Moxxie clapped his hands over his head.

—————

Moxxie blinked as the lights flickered on. As if one suite of rooms wasn’t enough, here was essentially an apartment sized for imps. It was much like a studio apartment with one large area for sleeping, eating, relaxing, and a mini kitchen. The furnishings weren’t a match for the rest of the palace, but decent and sturdy. There was a closet and one other door leading to the bathroom. No windows. The only exit was through the master suite. Moxxie started breathing hard as he realized this was basically an upgraded cell.

“Yeah, I know it’s kinda freaky. But it’s one of the safest places in the building.” Blitzø opened the closet and started tossing clothes on the bed. “We set this up after Stolas married that bitchy feather duster. Only people that can get in are me, Stolas, his kid, and one of the maids. Oh, and the people I bring in.” He took the pile of clothes and dropped them on Moxxie. “These are all too small for me now. We could raid the servant’s closets buuuuuuuut…screw that. Now let's see if there’s anything to eat.” A quick look in the fridge produced beers and a comically large cheese wedge. “Oh fuck yes, that woman deserves a raise! Or a good dicking if she wants it again.” Blitzø had the cheese in one hand, a beer in the other hand that was unzipping the prison wear and his tail wrapped around another beer. “You wanna eat before you clean up? There’s more beer, some fried chicken, and I think a salad if you want it.” He stuck out a forked tongue at the thought of vegetables. “Maybe a good enough fuck will get her to stop putting salads in here.”

Food, real food not prison slop, sounded great but a bit of time alone sounded better. “I’ll wash up first sir, I can’t stand this thing anymore.” Blitzø chomped away while giving him another thumbs up. Moxxie caught a glimpse of white scars covering patches of the other imp’s neck, arms, and torso, and what looked like a gold choker at his throat. He closed the bathroom door and dumped the clothes onto a bench. The bathroom wasn’t ostentatious like what he glimpsed in Stolas’s room. It had all the basics in a reasonable size. One thing he did notice was the horse decor. Horses and horseshoes everywhere. The rubber devilduckie was even a cowboy.

It was probably more polite to take a quick shower. Moxxie needed some time to regain his footing though, so he soaked in a bath. He’d been off balance since crossing the gates. Of course, nothing could have prepared him for anything he’d come across here. From everything he’d picked up Blitzø and Stolas were in a shitty situation and trying to make the best of it. It didn’t mean Moxxie had to stick around though.

Yeah, the older imp had broken him out of prison and talked about hiring Moxxie at his new startup. But he also hadn’t mentioned anything about being connected to Hell’s royal families.

Then again, Moxxie hadn’t mentioned his mafia family. He really didn’t want to either. He’d be just fine if his dad thought he died in the prison riot they’d caused during the escape. He could disappear in Pride and leave his own fucked up family behind. Blitzø and presumably Stolas were grateful for his help. Even if he didn’t want to work for them in the end, they probably wouldn’t just kick him to the curb. He wasn’t good at making deals. Crimson hadn’t let him join any important talks yet. But maybe he could leverage some cash out of the pair before finding his own way.

That would have to wait for the morning at earliest. From the sounds of it, Stolas was very enthusiastic about keeping their “appointment” tonight. With at least a glimmer of a plan, Moxxie finished washing and started digging through the clothes. There were a lot of t shirts, tanks, and leather pants. Skinny fit pants at that. Almost all the shirts had some sort of horse design; from one that said “Wild Horse” in messy red letters to one with a trio of sparkly pastel horses rearing under a full moon. Eventually he found a button down with a tailcoat that was pretty close to his normal clothes. It wouldn’t be tailored perfectly but it would do for the morning. For the night he found pajama pants with a horseshoe pattern that he didn’t mind sleeping in. He wasn’t about to sleep nude in a room with a horny couple he barely knew one wall away.

“All yours sir.” Blitzø was flopped on the couch, having finished both the beers and cheese. He was working his way through beer number three, which he took with him to the shower. Moxxie rummaged through the fridge, finding not only what Blitzø had mentioned but the makings of sandwiches and a container of soup. A little more digging around the miniature kitchen and he found various dry goods that would make a decent meal. By the time Blitzø came back he was plating the spaghetti with cheese sauce he’d made. He topped it off with some chopped up fried chicken for some added protein. He made a sizable batch; he doubted a cheese wedge and beer was enough for Blitzø.

Blitzø himself emerged from the bathroom, dressed in horse print boxers (which didn’t hide his slight erection) and a fitted black tank. “Thank fuck, Stolas was right about the stink. Laundry’s gonna have fun with those jumpsuits.” His nostrils flared suddenly. “What the dick? Where’d you get all this Mox?” His eyes were shining at the food and Moxxie could swear he was drooling.

“In your kitchen sir. There’s plenty of dry ingredients for easy meals, probably so you don’t have to disturb the main kitchen during your… ‘appointments.’ I would have liked some mushrooms or fresh herbs for flavoring, the ground and dried ones just don’t quite measure up but I can understand the maid not wanting to have too much perishable food here if your stays aren’t consistent. In any case making a bechamel sauce is fairly simple, it is one of the mother sauces after all and the cheese was perfect for melting into it. I did cheat with the chicken and used the microwave but it works out since there’s not too much cookware here either-“

“Wait wait wait. You made this?” Moxxie nodded. Blitzø yanked open the door and yelled “FLOOF CHECK THIS SHIT OUT MOXXIE CAN COOK!”

There was an undignified squawk before the owl demon cleared his throat. “I hope this is more impressive than the ‘ghetto nachos’ you presented me with.” He had to dip his head to enter the room but once he was in the ceiling was high enough that he didn’t quite brush it with his crest feathers. “Oh! Oh my! That looks delightful! And it smells excellent.” He closed his bottom set of eyelids and inhaled deeply.

“Hey! Ghetto nachos are damn tasty.”

“I’m not saying they aren’t but microwaving processed cheese slices onto tortilla chips does not count as cooking. This on the other hand,” the prince opened his eyes, a pleased expression that had nothing to do with sensuality on his face. “This is incredible. Do I detect some mustard added to the bechamel?”

Moxxie hadn’t expected anyone to notice. “Yes, your highness. With the chicken already being breaded, I felt it would compliment nicely.” He’d never been able to talk to anyone about cuisine before. Everyone at his father’s house had laughed at him. Maybe his mom would have liked to talk about it…

“Please, call me Stolas in private. Might I try a taste?” Moxxie twirled noodles around a fork, making sure both meat and sauce were included. Stolas savored the bite, his eyes closing and his feathers fluffing up. “As delicious as I hoped. As I’ve had dinner already, I won’t keep you from such a well made meal.” He nuzzled the base of Blitzø’s horn before bowing out of the room. “I’ll be waiting Blitzyyyyy.”

Blitzø was already diving headfirst into his plate. “Christ on a stick Moxxie, this is amazing. And that’s not just a week of prison food talking.” How he could taste anything shoveling his food in his mouth that fast, Moxxie didn’t know. He did notice that Blitzø was eating with more enthusiasm than at any other meal they’d shared.

Before Moxxie had more than half his portion, Blitzø was slurping down the last noodle.”That was great, thanks Mox.” He dumped dishes into the sink. Stifling a yawn, he headed back to the master suite. “Make yourself comfortable. Sheets should be clean.” That lascivious grin came back. “Unless watching is the kinda shit you’re into. Stolas’ bed’s big enough for all of us if you feel like joining.” Moxxie nearly choked on his pasta.

A/N: I hope everyone enjoys this! The fic is in process and currently around 25k words so there’s a lot more coming. Next part will open up with NSFW content, heads up.

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[twothpaste]

12 for ness for the character ask game :)

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

My Ness goes into civil engineering when he's older. The jist of it is him like? Finding inspiration in all the towns & cities he visited during his adventure, familiarizing himself with urban environments that're totally new to him, developing a genuine interest in the layout & construction of it all. He also experiences a lot of issues with cities firsthand (cops barricading roadways, the traffic jam in the desert, crawling through a wretched ill-kept sewer, etc). And overhears lots of adults muttering about mundane problems with their city lives... EarthBound's adult npcs often seem so cynical and disillusioned with the world & the places they live. I like the thought of Ness taking a more optimistic approach as he grows up. Tryin to solve those kinds of problems, gettin to practically apply things he observed while abroad. A once-homesick kid setting out to make peoples' hometowns more homely.