#I feel so fancy knowing a person who knows a person

[biolumien]

heya!! Saw you had open requests. And I was wondering if you could do something with Hoshina with the trope of Opposites attract?

Like maybe reader could be shy and quiet type. Who is strangely not a fighter like he is. Reader could be a sweet civilian or something and it'd be nice to see how the rest of the characters react to their relationship. Though of course, feel free to change it as you wish. Whatever you write I'm sure it'll turn out amazing.

Feel free to ignore this if it isn't your fancy :DD

notes: ahh repeat it with me now the fic got away from me and took on a life of its own... i hope this is okay ;-;!!

cafe latte

soshiro hoshina x gn!reader no content warnings necessary. i think word count: 1752

the first time you were saved by soshiro hoshina was in front of the wreckage surrounding your cafe. 

the smell of blood was overwhelming as you stepped out warily, wincing as a drop of the kaiju carcass’s acidic blood dripped onto the pavement in front of you, carving out a hole in the concrete. 

“careful!” a voice called out from somewhere above you. “it’s still not safe for civilians.” 

you watch as the vice captain of the third division, soshiro hoshina, lands deftly on the ground, sheathing his twin katanas at his back. his closed, smiling eyes crack open just a tad, and he hums, his voice muffled by his respirator. 

your eyes go wide. 

the third division was legendary among the defense force, after all, and it was soshiro hoshina in the flesh in front of you! your body seemed to move of its own accord, and--

“um–can i,” you stammer out, pulling out your notepad for taking cafe orders. “can i get your autograph?”

“huh?” hoshina wipes a bit of blood from his suit. “i mean, sure, but wouldn’t you rather get an autograph from captain ashiro? i’m sure the resell value on that is far better.” even as he said this, though, he’d reached out to sign your notepad, scribbling a haphazard signature.

“i mean–everyone likes captain ashiro,” you say nervously as hoshina hands the notepad back to you. “but—you kept the kaiju from wrecking my—my shop.” you shift your eyes to the front of your cafe, and then back to hoshina, covered in blood and still wearing his respirator mask. “so i wanted your signature specifically.” 

“oh, i see,” hoshina says. he sounds teasing. “business will be slow for a bit, though, with the cleanup. are you going to be okay?” 

“oh? i—yes, i… it’ll be fine. the cleaners usually take… two weeks, i think. so… it might be a bit slower.” 

“hmm.” hoshina hums, removing his mask. you’d seen hoshina’s face on the news, largely in the background as mina ashiro spoke on eliminating the kaiju threat—so you’d known he was handsome, but something about seeing his face in person was different. he felt more—tangible. real. 

“i’ll have to stop by some time,” hoshina says with a smile. 

“i…” you lift up your notepad to hide your face. “i-i mean… sure. i… i don’t know why you would… but—”

“think of it like me paying you back for the slow business,” hoshina says. 

“okay,” you say, your voice hitching slightly. 

[…]

business was slow the next week, as you’d told hoshina. the kaiju carcass outside was pretty bad for business, really–something about the bad vibes, or something like that. so you go through the motions, cleaning up tables, ordering new coffee beans and stock for the next few weeks when business would pick up again. it was hard work, but it was made a little easier based on the fact that there was hardly anyone in the cafe right now. 

you look outside the window, resting your elbows on the counter, sighing. looks like it’d be another slow day after all. 

you raise your head as the cafe door jingles.

“welcome to the—it’s you,” you stammer out as hoshina walks through the door. off-duty he wears fairly loose clothes, a sharp contrast to how sharply dressed he looks during press conferences. he’s dressed in a loose black jacket with a tight turtleneck, and loose pants with a pair of reasonably-fashionable looking sneakers, with a black mask over his mouth. “you really didn’t have to—”

“not like i had much better to do,” hoshina says easily, waving a hand, pulling down his mask now that he was inside. “it’s not often i get time off. and i gave you my word, so i might as well make good on it.” he walks forward, examining the cafe menu. “what’s good here?” 

“umm—the… americano, is… okay,” you say. “i… think.” “you think?” hoshina blinks at you, his eyes narrowing slightly, teasingly. “does that mean you don’t know?”

“i–no, it’s–it’s good,” you say more assertively now. hoshina laughs, and your heart skips a strange beat. 

“hm… i’ll admit i don’t really drink that much coffee, so i’ll give you free reign to do whatever you think i’d like.” hoshina smiles. 

“i–that’s too much freedom,” you protest. “what if you hate it–” “i’m not gonna hate it,” hoshina says. “i came here out of my own free will after all! just go with the flow.”

so you end up making him a latte, doing a bit of latte art on the top using some cream. it’s a small fox with closed eyes and a sharp smile, and you slide it across the counter for his approval. he picks up the cup, spinning it gently–and you try not to look too hard at his hands. he hums.

“looks almost too cute to drink,” he says. “cheers, though.” he takes a long, slow sip, and you feel your heart pound in your throat as he lowers the cup. 

“is—”

“it’s good,” hoshina says with a smile. “i’ll have to keep coming back here. i can’t believe i’ve missed out on this place.” 

[…]

he just… keeps coming back during his off duty hours, dressed sharply and plainly each time. you make him new animals in his lattes—cats, dogs, bunnies, mostly cats and foxes. 

a few times you attempt a very crazy looking kaiju, but by the time you hand over the cup it’s deflated already, and you slide over the drink with shame on your face and he just laughs, and you try not to think about the fact that his fingers brushed against yours as he takes the cup each time. 

you learn a bit more about him each time, but it’s mostly surface level things. how his day’s going, what’s annoying him—mostly what’s annoying him, but said in a conversationally light way. 

but he asks a lot of questions about you. favorite color, animal, food—innocuous at first, down to grittier questions about good memories, lasting regrets and the like. 

you answer to the best of your ability, hesitantly and nervously each time. 

“not that i don’t… appreciate the conversation, but…” you say one day as you’re scrubbing down a particularly messy table, “why do you ask all these questions anyway? i-i doubt my answers are… anything interesting, so—”

hoshina takes a sip from his coffee. 

you made him a penguin today. 

“i’m just curious,” hoshina says, in a tone that almost sounds apologetic. “work habit. gotta know everything about everyone. your coworkers, the officers, kaiju…” 

he watches out the window for a moment, and you think about the large gap between the two of you—two completely separate worlds as he fights to defend the world from a threat so foreign and massive that it seemed utterly inconceivable—and here you were, wondering about how you might sell enough cafe lattes to make ends meet and pay rent. 

“but more than anything,” hoshina says after a long moment, and you nearly startle hearing his voice again, “i just want to get to know you because you’re interesting.”

and in his eyes is a weighted, assured sincerity that makes your heart flip nervously. 

[…]

the second time you were saved by soshiro hoshina, it was a smaller, less dramatic affair. 

you’re carrying out trays to some other customers while hoshina sits at one of the tables, his laptop open as he’s working on some paperwork. 

and then suddenly you trip on one of the floorboards, falling forward with a yelp, and you brace yourself for the utter worst—spilled glassware and maybe a really bad fall—but then you gasp out as hoshina pulls an arm around your waist, keeping you from completely planting on your face. 

he lets go soon after, his eyes scanning yours for a moment. you wonder why your side feels a little bit colder, why you wished for the pressure of his hand against your side to stay for a little longer. surely it was nothing. 

“careful now,” hoshina says, a teasing lilt to his voice, but then he seems a little more contemplative, slightly more concerned. “nothing spilled too bad, right?” 

“no,” you say, a little dazed as you check the trays to find that thankfully, everything seemed in place. “thank you, hoshina.”

“mhm,” hoshina says, his eyes flitting back to his work. a smirk crosses his lips for a moment as his eyes flit back up to meet yours. “can’t save you all the time, can i?”

you sputter for a moment, and he laughs, and it’s not long before you’re laughing too. 

[…]

there are people huddled outside the street as hoshina enters into the cafe today. he seems a little weary, running a hand through his hair. 

“you look out of it,” you comment. 

“i… the…” hoshina glances back at the people outside. your eyes widen when you notice the telltale ponytail of—

“is that mina ashiro?” you exclaim, slamming your hands against the counter. “seriously? out here?” 

hoshina looks wearier at the excitement in your voice. 

“sorry,” you say. “but why is she here?” 

“i…” hoshina looks up at the ceiling, exhaling for a second. “do you want to go out with me?” 

you think your heart stops beating. 

hoshina’s watching you, and his eyes flit to yours, before trying to look at anything else. 

“where—where did this come from?” you ask. you want to hide behind something. your ears feel hot, and he coughs. 

“it comes from… ah, i’m not good at metaphor,” hoshina says, spreading his hands. “it’s so much worse than being straightforward—so i’ll just put it plainly. i like you. i come to the cafe a lot because i like you. i want to go out with you. and some of my… coworkers,” 

hoshina turns to glare at some of the people outside, who seem to scatter at his stare. 

“…were interested in seeing the person that has captured my attention. so… i hope that’s clear.”

does he seem ever-so-slightly nervous?

your face feels hot.

“yes,” you say, reaching out to clasp his hand. “of course.”

hoshina exhales, loud.

“okay. good. not that i was nervous or anything, but i’ve got a reputation to uphold out there, with those clowns,” hoshina says, squeezing your hand back, cool as ever. you smile, leaning up to kiss hoshina quickly, and he laughs, brushing his nose against yours.

and out of the corner of your eye, you see mina ashiro taking a picture with her phone. 

[bonus-links]

mandatory directors commentary ask because I’m absolutely obsessed with them <333 I just think it’s really cool seeing what you put into each update it’s so interesting :)

OKAY BUCKLE UP

a kind of important piece of context that's probably missing for this conversation wake and tetra have is that they were dating and broke up fairly recently. it felt awkward to shoehorn in a line about it but there u have it. anyway that's why wake feels the need to ask tetra to keep an eye on outset in the first place. like she'd actually say no.

did u know tetra has this image of the hero of time in her room on the ship? this worked out very well for me having that in frame hehe. it's also where the sun motif in the "we're cursed" panel comes from!

i like the idea that wearing big fancy earrings is a part of formal dress across all hylian cultures, and outset is no different! these particular ones wake is wearing are based on abalone shells which i think make really beautiful jewelry :-)

i just want to call attention to this relationship chart panel. wake doesn't even know that the first thing slate did was put a sword to wolf's neck. he doesn't know how right he is

this location is the top of ganondorf's tower. it's a little bit more of a symbolic image than a memory tho. fun fact, when you look at this location in noclip tetra is just standing there without her eyes loaded in. spooky stuff

okay, now onto the big one. the flood scene! this is in fact a vision Loft had of the original divine flood that created the Great Sea, and Loft is putting the pieces together. The one in the middle is actually wind waker's hyrule castle, not a temple like i've seen a few people guess. i had this really strong image in my head of the flood starting by pouring out of Hyrule Castle. does this make sense logistically, given the barrier we see around Hyrule Castle implies it was saved from the flood? maybe not, but I couldn't get the idea out of my head, so in the comic it goes

we don't ever seen WW's castle town in the game, so I actually used OOT's castle town as a reference. I just really needed a reference for this or else my head was gonna explode lol. that's also OOT's death mountain, which is mostly just there to show the spread of the flood.

this ending bit with the flood is kind of intended to be a continuation of the Farosh scene on the bridge. Loft is going to continue to have and be reminded of terrible visions of the future, and that anxiety he has around that isn't going to just go away. But I really wanted a scene where he acts on what Slate told him on the bridge— don't pity this place. He snaps himself out of it and chooses to join the party.

another note on that last panel lol, the person who's waving to him is Rose, the pig lady from the bonus comic!

alrighty I think that's all I got for now

[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desire Ch 8

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, alcohol, smut, rougher sex (ish), minor breeding kink. ngl it almost feels like a bit of a filler chapter, but it reunites what bits i had combined previously to make full chapters. Also sometimes filler is needed, I needed something else in there to break things up and that's why i kept staring at the word doc having NO clue what i wanted to do. SO, hopefully it doesn't take two weeks til the next update. lol. thank you for reading, extra bonus love to everyone who comments, sends asks and reblogs! you're the best!

After a lavish breakfast of stuffed French toast, all the delicious sides you could ask for and the best tasting coffee you’d had in ages you figured you should take advantage of the fancy shower once more. You took your time, scrubbing your skin with exfoliant before washing with a rose scented body wash and combing through your hair with a leave in conditioner. Wrapping yourself in one of the fuzzy robes you added in some hair treatment, braiding your still damp locks to air dry while sipping on a second cup of coffee. Finally it was check out time so you collected your things and headed downstairs, the Sunday morning air was the perfect balance of crisp while warm, the breeze floating through the streets spreading the sense of summer on the way.

You weren’t totally surprised when you found a bouquet of flowers on your front step, a note from Emily in the florists font scrawled across the front. Scooping it up you took it inside, kicking off your shoes and dropping your purse to the kitchen island before unwrapping the flowers. Picking a vase from the cabinet you filled it with some water and placed the bouquet inside, placing them on the coffee table to display. You dug through your bag for your phone, finally finding it and opening the text chain with Emily.

‘The flowers are gorgeous, thank you.’

‘You’re such a good girl I figured you deserved a little treat.’

‘It’s much appreciated.’

‘Speaking of… your upcoming events, do you need anything for them?’

‘I’m picking up a couple of dresses from alterations this week, haven’t looked through my accessories though.’

‘I’ll keep that in mind.’

‘Thank you. Enjoy New York, eat a bagel or a slice of pizza for me.’

‘Oh now that’s just a guarantee’

You chuckled as you locked your phone, sliding it back onto the island before you turned back to the fridge, eyes flicking through what was left and still usable for you to meal prep a bit for the upcoming week.

Said upcoming week flew by faster than you’d expected, likely due to all of the added on extra tasks you had to complete by six p.m. on Friday. Even with the slew of assistants strewn through Heather’s team, everything had to be perfect, double or triple checked, approved by Heather or yourself before appointments were confirmed, meetings were booked, or things were publicized or printed. You often wondered if it was actually financially worth having your own personal assistant considering the amount of things you either did yourself or had to be redone. (Not that it really mattered to you, they weren’t on your payroll).

Friday’s banquet wasn’t much for you to worry about, just made sure you were dressed the part and were ready when the car rolled up to your condo. Dinner was over and cocktails were in full swing, time for schmoozing, networking and making sure that everyone went home remembering the Dunbar name and philosophy. You’d stepped outside briefly after dinner, chatting with a congressman while he had a cigar and gave you the opportunity to stretch your legs. Walking back inside you found a high top table to settle against, pulling out your work phone to read a handful of emails.

“You know, you are allowed to put that thing away, right?” Heather teased, sliding a glass of Cristal across the table to you and you rolled your eyes, locking the device.

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew I was confirming some very affluent last minute sponsors for tomorrow.” You took a sip of the champagne, thinking back to your conversation on the terrace “and you’re welcome, Blythe will be voting in favour next week.”

“Good girl.” She grinned, clinking her glass with yours before her eyes drifted to the bracelet around your wrist. Her gaze lingered for a moment then moved upward and she reached out, lifting your earring with a curled finger before her eyes dropped to the gem resting on the swell of your chest. “Matching set?”

“Mmhm.” You nodded over a sip of your drink.

“Haven’t seen it before.”

“It’s new.” You replied, a small smirk on the corner of your mouth.

“Looks expensive.”

“If you’re trying to suggest it’s out of my budget, you’d be correct.”

“It’s nice to see Emily has good taste.”

“Among other things.” There was a gleam in your eye that Heather was eager to find out more about, a smirk on her lips as she took another sip of her drink.

“Glad to hear.” Was all she had time to reply with when another body sauntered up to your table.

“Not surprised to see you two here.” Tony greeted with a wide smile, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek before he reached out a hand, “Ms. Dunbar.”

“You know, I am surprised to see you here.”

“Drew the short straw.” He shrugged, “director had something come up, Gibbs would rather be caught dead than at one of these things and McGee doesn’t know his Dolce from American Eagle.”

“What about that other Agent you have right now, the little feisty one?” Heather asked, sly smile on her lips as Tony chuckled, scratching at the back of his neck in an attempt to distract from the blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Ziva? These aren’t really her style; she wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“I mean you could’ve at least brought her as a date, shown her the ropes so she knows for next time.” You offered, nudging at his shoulder and he let out another little huff.

“Oh, no, I mean, she’d hate that. She’d spend half the night flirting her way through the crowd and the other half having to convince everyone we weren’t actually together.”

“So she’s available?” Heather asked with a teasing smirk, pulling an awkward laugh from Tony.

“I— uh, well…” He stuttered, “maybe a little too… controlling… to be your style.” He suddenly leant against the table with his elbow, “but you know McGee does have a sister…”

“Do tell.” Heather grinned over the rim of her glass, pulling an eye roll from you.

“No!” You punched Tony’s arm before swatting in Heather’s direction. “Your dance card is already full,” you turned to Tony, “and she is way too young.”

“From what I heard, that’s how she likes it.” He muttered and you rolled your eyes as Heather chuckled.

“Age is just a number.”

“She graduated high school last year. That puts her younger than your kids.” You retorted, watching the way Heather’s nose crinkled before she laughed, happy to have found some amount of amusement from a night like tonight.

She let out a soft sigh as her eyes fixated on something across the room, “there’s Conway, looks like my time is now.” She turned back to you, “Durant may need some more convincing and I haven’t seen Sharp yet.”

“Please, all I need to do is bat my eyelashes in Jackie’s general direction and she’ll do whatever I want.”

“That’s why I keep you around.” With a smile and a nod to DiNozzo, she scooped up her champagne flute and made her way across the ballroom.

“Was… she serious?” He asked hesitantly and you laughed.

“No!” You took another gulp of your drink, “besides, like I said, her schedule’s full, she can’t take on more right now.”

“Speaking of schedules.” He grinned, waggling his eyebrows at you, “I’m surprised to see you here on a weekend, thought those were for secret romps and exchanges of sugar.”

“You know, sometimes I wonder just how suave of a man you could be if you just let your brain think things through before they came out of your mouth.”

“Stop.” He groaned, leaning against the table as he turned to you, “or are you just saving your hot date for tomorrow night?”

“This week didn’t line up, I’ve got that fundraiser all weekend, which, you should bring your team to make it a little family outing.”

“I’ll think about it.” He took a swig of his beer, “really puts a wrench in your plans then, I can already tell you’re getting grumpy.”

“Anthony…” you warned, “we met up last weekend. It was kind of last minute but we made use of the time we had.”

“So no hot dates during the week?”

“Not usually, but we’re both busy, plus she was in New York all week at conferences.”

“A rich woman, who travels for work,” he began to tick them off on his fingers, “outranks NCIS, has significant style tastes, works full time during the week and sometimes weekends… are you sure you aren’t dating a politician.”

“I—” you paused, head tilting for a second before you nodded, “yes. Government employed but not by the White House.”

“Isn’t everyone technically government employed?”

“And we’re not dating, I thought you of all people would understand the stipulations of a financial beneficiary pairing.”

“Oh yeah, and what’s that?” He asked, eyes gleaming.

“She buys me nice things, pays for my hair or nail appointments, adds to my jewellery collection, makes sure my fridge is always full, sends fresh flowers weekly.” You spotted one of the people Heather wanted you to talk to on the other side of the room and drained your drink, “and in return I meet up with her at high end hotels on the weekends and let her fuck my brains out.”

Even though Tony had been expecting it, your brashness still left him choking on his beer as you smirked at him, picking up your empty glass to grab a refill from the bar and one for Durant.

**

Seven days later and fucking your brains out was exactly what Emily was doing.

It had been less than an hour and if she’d asked you about dinner, you wouldn’t have been able to remember a single thing. All you could think about was the feeling of her buried inside you, hitting deeper with each powerful thrust of her hips. Your hands clawed at the bedspread, eyes scrunched shut as your cunt pulsed around the toy, moans louder with each time she sunk into you. Her hands tightly gripped your hips, hard enough you were sure there would be fingerprint shaped bruises come morning. You let out a little whimper, your nipples rubbing against the duvet every time she fucked into you, the multiple sensations driving you absolutely wild.

“More…” you groaned out, a gasp leaving your lips when she spanked you.

“God you really do like it rough, don’t you?”

“Mmhmm.” You managed to nod, fire shooting through your body, your clit throbbing as you ground it down onto the bed.

“Gonna need you to come soon princess.” She dropped over your body, husking into your ear while one hand tangled into your hair, yanking at the roots and you let out a blissful cry. Her mouth latched onto your neck, teeth scraping the sensitive skin as her free had wound around your middle, fingers pinching at your clit.

“Fuck!” You cried out, “oh fuu-cck. Don’t stop!”

Your teeth sunk into your lower lip, holding back any louder moans, whimpers and whines bouncing off the walls along with the wet sounds coming from your pussy. Your juices coated Emily’s cock, smearing across both of your thighs, more than enough for her to gather up as she rubbed your clit. She could feel you trembling in her arms, your hips bucking back against hers as you started to lose control.

“That’s it baby, you’re so close. Come for me.” She nipped at your earlobe, her breath hot on your skin right as she pressed harder on your clit and you were coming undone in her arms, a shaky cry coming from deep in your throat.

“Oh fuck…” you muttered, collapsing down onto the bed while she continued to fuck you through your orgasm, her hips slowing just a hint.

“So good for me.” She panted, “where do you want my cum? In that pretty mouth? Hmm? Or maybe on this gorgeous ass?” A breathy gasp left your lips when she spanked you again and you moaned, pussy fluttering around her cock as you were coming up on a second orgasm.

“Inside me!” You whined, “please!”

“She likes it rough and she’s dirty?” Emily chuckled, “we’ve got a lot more to explore.”

She watched as your body shivered, thighs clenching together and your hands bunched tightly into fists as your second peak washed over you and then she let out a groan, stilling with her hips right against yours. Her hand quickly found the base of the toy, squeezing hard and you let out a satisfied moan at the feeling of her spilling deep inside you. Emily’s hand soothed up and down your back, watching as you caught your breath before she pulled the toy almost all of the way out of your pussy. She let out a low swear at the sight of it coated in a mixture of your cum and the lube before slowly nudging it back into you, fucking her cum deeper into your drenched cunt. You trembled again, a sheen of goosebumps breaking out on your skin and she finally pulled out of you, skilfully ridding herself of the strap to be dealt with later.

“Christ…” you muttered, your head burying itself into the pillows and Emily let out a small chuckle as she dropped down onto the bed beside you.

“Seems like you’re a little fucked senseless?” She offered and you let out a small laugh, your eyes barely blinking open to look over at her.

“Not to deflate your ego,” you let out a large yawn, “because you certainly did, but I am also just completely fucking wiped. I barely slept all week. Between Heather’s bill proposals and the upcoming endorsements I’ve been working twenty hour days.” Emily snuck under the blankets, an arm draping over the top of the pillows and you practically nuzzled into her side, yawning again as your eyes fluttered shut.

“Hey!” She swatted at your side, “none of that, you need to use the bathroom.”

“C’mon…” you whined, burrowing yourself deeper into the blankets and Emily tsk’d at you, pinching your chin until you opened your eyes.

“If you want me to come inside you again you’re going to use the bathroom missy.”

“Fine.” You grumbled, shivering as you pushed back the blankets and padded to the en-suite, much to Emily’s satisfaction. You returned a few minutes later, make up wiped from your face and teeth brushed, climbing back into the bed as you let out another yawn, curling around Emily’s side. “Are you staying?”

She shrugged, “got nowhere else to be. You mind if I keep the tv on?”

“Not at all. I’ll probably be dead to the world anyways.”

She chuckled softly, feeling you relax against her body as she started to flick through the channels. It wasn’t that late and while her week had been long it clearly hadn’t been as taxing as yours was. You were asleep within minutes, softly snoring against her and she made a mental note to start sending you good night texts in an attempt to make sure you were getting enough rest.

__________________

@daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak @soverign @v3nusxsky @blackbird-brewster @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @supercorpstan97 @asolitaryrose3 @lisqueen @mrs-prentiss @whitewinewithice @d33pd3sire-blog @daffodil-heart @maximoffcarter @i-lovefandom @chimnlex @moonlightjxuregui @chestnutninny

[artyandink]

amoralism | one

Summary: You and Dean Winchester are the top agents from Major Crimes. You’re also assigned as partners on the same case- a crime syndicate is running loose and buying out most of downtown New York. He hates you cause you hate him. You hate him cause you think he got in his position with his daddy’s influence. But this case is personal to one of you more than the other- and you may be getting too personal for comfort.

A/N - I said I’d post on Friday but surprise! Also, as a note, I have no intention of completely relating to realism (even though I’m pretty sure that’s a title of a chapter). This will be almost like an action/romance movie, and the format is sort of like that too.

Song Inspo: Shameless - Camila Cabello

narcissism

Fifty-Shots Bar had never had this many patrons before.

Clinking of glasses, the bellow of random toasts, tapping of the bar for another round, the whole trifecta played on loop until all those glasses came down on the counter and all the beefy men downing those drinks like water would slap the back of the tallest in the lot, forcing that dude with the unreasonably gorgeous hair to bend to their height from the pressure.

“What’s the occasion, boys?” The lady on shift, Jenna, chuckled. She was intrigued as to why the festivities were so… robust, but then one of the guys shoved the tall one forward, clapping his shoulder in a way that knocked the latter’s breath out.

“Ah, nothing.” The taller one tried playing it off, but the shorter wouldn’t hear of it. His green eyes shone mischievously as he ruffled the tall guy’s hair. Jenna’s eyes couldn’t help but trail down the patron’s, well, everything. Short blonde hair, five o’clock shadow on the sharpest jawline she’d ever seen. Lips always in a pout, daring her to kiss it away until they bruised. Casual denim shirt nothing short of tempting, as tight as a damn straitjacket over that broad, no doubt kissable chest. Arms framed in his sleeves, probably bore enough strength to throw her around like a ragdoll and he wouldn’t break a sweat.

She bit her lip. Oh Lord, this man was either from heaven or hell and she wouldn’t complain either way.

“It’s not nothing.” He laughed, shaking his head. “My brother Sam here took down a big-time multi level marketing scheme. So damn modest.” Another clap of Sam’s shoulder. However, he seemed to have clocked Jenna and her obvious admiration of his entire being, a quirk of the corner of his mouth having her knees like jelly. “What’s your name, beautiful?”

She giggled, her finger twirling her hair around her finger as if she was a little schoolgirl with her first crush. “Jenna. What’s yours?”

“Dean Winchester.” He took her hand, kissing her knuckle and letting his lips linger, smouldering eye contact sending shivers down her spine. “Agent Dean Winchester. Say, Jenna, what time do you get off?”

“When you do.” She breathed, and the low chuckle from Dean had her snapping back into her senses but also getting a very noticeable ache between her thighs. “Um, in an hour.”

Sam had already left. He wasn’t in the mood for watching very visible eye-banging.

Champagne. Chauvinists. The classic fancy, downtown party hosted by a family that owned half of Chicago. Flashing lights, a pair of eyes on you at all times… it was rather an overwhelming feeling, one that you couldn’t shake.

You didn’t know whether to feel confident or hunted in the red dress that you wore, satin and navy and with an open back- all things nice and very attractive to men. Your makeup and blonde (for today) hair done like a movie star and getting the attention of every man in the room, regardless of age.

“And who might you be, sweets?” A very Southern accent drawled from behind you, and you turned around, making a show of playing the innocent yet extremely attractive and mysterious lady at the most extravagant birthday party you had ever seen.

You were playing a stereotype. You hated stereotypes.

“Anna Raleigh.” You responded smoothly, and he seemed to buy it, taking your hand and kissing the knuckle, the creepy eye contact urging you to snatch your hand back and scrub it with an antiseptic wipe.

“Miss Raleigh, you are a work of art. Name’s Matthias Aldrich.” He practically purred, and that sent a cold shiver up your spine.

You put on a polite, smitten smile, though you were inwardly rolling your eyes. “Thank you, sir.”

Matthias tucked a strand of your blonde hair behind your ear. “I’ve always been fond of women who are the golden type of blonde. Hope this is natural.”

You took a crouton from a passing tray, popping it in your mouth and chewing on it, answering once you’d swallowed the bite. You’d done it quick because you could see this dude’s eyes on your lips as you chewed. “I say, these croutons are quite dry, no?”

The door to Jenna’s apartment burst open, her and Dean stumbled in, lips locked, door closing with a well-timed click and moans echoing amid breathy sighs. Dean’s jacket fell just as Jenna’s fingers tugged on his hair, causing him to jolt and let out a growl, groaning as he bent to kiss her neck. “Just like that.” He murmured, nipping and assaulting the tanned skin. Only detaching to pull her skimpy tank over her head, revealing a hot pink, lace bra.

She’s freaky. He liked that.

“You like?” She breathed, ample chest heaving as her teeth worried her bottom lip, batting her eyelashes. Putting on a show for him.

“Mmh.” He hummed, nodding before he reached for the clasp, effortlessly undoing it. It fell to the floor, and he clicked his tongue with a grin. “Better.”

“Much.” She purred, kissing him hotly and leading them to the bedroom.

Pushing.

Pulling.

Grinding.

Jenna’s legs wrapping around his waist, courtesy of Dean putting them there. Moans. Groans. Whimpers. Cries and low mutters of each other’s name. The room heating up and pulsing with enough pressure to forge a diamond.

The bed creaking. Headboard banging. High pitched moans that belong in a porno. Groans of ‘just like that’ and whines of ‘right there’ and ‘don’t stop’.

Not even after a minute after your comment about the dry croutons, the building was stormed. Armed personnel burst through every exit, holding up automatics and yelling for everyone to get their hands up, while you were taken by the arm by one of the people yelling ‘FBI! Hands where we can see them!’ and dragged in a way which appeared rough.

You were led kicking and screaming into a side van, and the moment the door slid shut, you snapped out of it, pulling the wig off. “About time, eh, boys?”

“At least we got your signal.” One protested, while another snorted.

“Dry croutons? Really?” He rolled his eyes, spinning on the chair, raising a pointed eyebrow at you. “With all due respect, it could be something less outlandish.”

“Then it would be too easy to miss, Velasquez.” You retorted, grabbing a makeup wipe and beginning to practically scrub it all off. Also taking an antiseptic wipe and a bottle of hand sanitizer to rid your hand of Matthias Aldrich’s lips. “And since when do I work like I’m a basic, sweater wearing, background blending Gertrude?”

“She has a point, Velasquez.” One agent quipped as he went by. You pointed after him with a smirk.

“Willis gets it.” You grinned, shrugging. “Why can’t you? Have a heart, Velasquez.”

“Yeah, have a heart.”

“Shut up!” Velasquez yelled after him, and got the middle finger from Willis in response.

“You ready to report to the CO, Agent?” Willis asked you, passing you a mug of coffee, which you gratefully sipped.

“When am I not?” You chuckled, letting the warm liquid wash over your throat. “Now, I don’t care what you two clowns do, I need these guys behind bars for two lifers at least. I’ve been hunting down these sons of bad mothers for months. I’m not having any slip ups, no buy ins nor outs. Every. Exit. Sealed.” You looked between the two with an intense glare, no nonsense and all business. “Am I clear?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Morning afters were always hard for Dean. He had a rule that he followed to the T.

Mind blowing sex? Doesn’t matter, leave before he gets attached and she gets hurt.

“Sorry, Jen, I’d stay, but I’m late for work.” He hurriedly buttoned his denim shirt, trying not to get distracted by the sight of the girl in the sheets, naked body only a thin layer of cotton away.

All he had to do was peel it.

“Aw, handsome, I thought you’d stay for round six.” Jenna giggled, looking him up and down. Inside, Dean was rolling his eyes in frustration. They always got clingy after the best night of their life. Then again, that was purely his fault.

“I would, trust me, darlin’.” He cleared his throat, walking into the living room and finding his jacket and keys, along with his belt. That was important.

Jenna stepped in as well, clad in a silk robe that made her look no short of delectable. But he had to resist. Stick to the damn code. “Y’know, I’m a sucker for a man in uniform.”

She was trying a hit. God, she was trying hard. Dean had to physically resist going back for another hit. She was clingy, sure, but there was a huge double standard there.

“Are you, now?” He smirked, running a hand through his messy hair. “Careful, sweetheart, or I might sextuple dip.”

“Maybe I want you to.” She winked, and it had him chuckling, looking down and then back at her.

“Tempting. Very tempting.”

You stepped into the office, your heels making small taps on the floor as you went, signing in and showing your ID at the register before making your way inside. You’d been told to take a rest for a few days before you returned to your post in the HQ at DC, but who were you to listen?

And everyone knew it too, because the very moment you stepped inside, you were greeted with a show of applause and cheers from your colleagues. “Tenth drug ring of your career.” Agent Lafitte clapped your shoulder, chuckling. “You’re on a roll, sister.”

“Cool it with the flattery, Benny, I’m on a time crunch.” You snorted, shaking your head and holding a hand out for a case file, which was dropped into your hand as you continued walking.

“Hi.” There was a blonde girl beside you, hair pulled up into a ponytail, presumably the one who handed the fine to you. “Agent Jo Harvelle. I used to work narcotics, but they’re giving me a trial in Major Crimes. I was told by the CO to shadow you, so I can get a good sense of the ropes.”

While looking through the files, you glanced up at Agent Harvelle, seeing the eager look on her face. Rather like you when you started, and the eager ones made good agents. With a little tough love. “Yeah, a’ight. CO’s called me for a briefing, so it’ll be up to him whether you stay or step out.”

“About that drug ring you busted?” She grinned. “I was told. By practically everyone. How are you that skilled?”

“Ain’t my first rodeo, hon.” You smirked as you reached the boss’ office, rapping twice on the door with your knuckles and earning a polite ‘come in’.

That you did, finding your superior officer, Senior Agent Robert Singer, standing behind his desk, nose deep in a file while his ear was being talked off by… oh, boy.

Agent Winchester.

“So I quickly take my gun, aim it between his eyes,” He held up finger guns and aimed them to prove his point, completely disregarding your arrival, hideously typical, “and I said ‘hands up or I’ll reenact Rambo’. Genius, am I right?”

You cleared your throat sharply.

That got Agent Winchester’s attention, his green eyes zeroing in on you and giving you memories back that you tried to dispose of in the first place. A smirk twitched at those lips that were once too close to be professional before they stretched into a grin, pearly whites flashing. “Mornin’, Agent. Surprised to see you here.”

“I could say the same thing.” You pressed your lips together (and your thighs, but you’d never admit that), turning to Agent Singer instead. “Should I leave Harvelle outside, sir?”

“That’s ideal.” Singer nodded, so you signalled to Harvelle to stay outside as you closed and locked the soundproof door. You passed the file on the Brierson drug ring to him, which he checked over. “Impressive work, as always. This’ll land them behind bars for sure.”

“Always the perfectionist, aren’t you?” Winchester quipped, arms folded across his chest with a smug smirk. Your brow twitched; you knew exactly why he was highlighting that word in bold, italics, whatever he was intending to do. You’d just rather not think about it.

You scanned him over, adding all the facts in your head. His shirt wasn’t ironed. Belt was wonky. Hair looked like it had a comb desperately run through it but failed to tame it. Faint hint of something red you recognised as a lipstick smear on his jugular and a sliver of a purple bruise that disappeared under his collar. Which was hastily pulled up. His tie done in the simplest knot ever and still looked tragic.

He got here in quite the rush.

“Nice night?” You shot back, a full smirk tugging at your lips and making his drop. He gave you a look which blatantly said smartass, while you proudly notched that win on your belt.

Singer looked between the two of you before tapping his desk. “Entertaining, but not why you’re both here. We’ve found ourselves in a fix. Franz Brierson wasn’t at that party.”

Your blood ran cold. That guy was the big boss, the guy who started it all, got everyone on his payroll. If he was loose… but he couldn’t be loose. Unless you didn’t check?

“I’ve been looking into it for the past five hours. That’s right, I got here early.” Singer huffed out a breath. “There’s a chance that our big boss was notified beforehand. A mole that told him we were coming.”

“A mole. In the FBI.” Dean muttered, now serious as he rubbed a hand into his mouth. “We’ve been clean for years.”

“It’s the only explanation.” You piped up, shaking your head as you began to pace. Heels tapping, Dean’s eyes fixating on the sway of your hips and your ass in that getup at the wrong goddamn moment. “That operation was airtight. No room for error. Only someone on the inside could have leaked that info.”

“You two are the best Major Crimes has. Most arrests, most drug and crime busts I’ve seen on a record in all my years of being here.” Singer folded his arms, looking between the two of you. “I don’t know the whats, whens, whos, hows, whys of what happened when you two were last assigned on a case together, but I need this operation to stay in this circle right here.” He faced you. “When you’re working this case, Agent Harvelle can’t be there. It’s gonna be hard to shake, but you can handle it. As for you,” Singer shot an exasperated look at Winchester, “look presentable!”

“I look hot.” Dean pouted, now holding his jacket over his shoulder with it hooked on his index.

“Hot isn’t FBI. Go sort yourself out, or I’ll get your brother to do it. I need to oversee operations.” Singer left the room and the tense air between you and Dean, which you faced head on.

“So,” You started in a lilting voice, which he recognised instantly as your teasing tone and prompting an eye roll before the words left your lips, “was she good?”

“Shut up.” He groaned, shaking his head as he pulled his suit jacket back on. “None of your damn business. It’s an intimate exploration, not exhibitionism.” He lowered his voice so you couldn’t hear. “Though she’d probably be into that.”

“Are we calling sex an intimate exploration now?” You scoffed lightly, laughing afterwards. “You’re such a sappy romantic.”

“Asshole.” He shot back. Two can play, Winchester.

“Dumbass.”

“Smartass.”

“Jackass.”

“We gotta stop using ‘ass’ in every sentence.” He groaned, running a hand through his hair and picking up the file to busy himself. But the file was picked out of his hands, left carelessly on the desk, your lips claiming his something sinful.

Something that had him moaning, gripping your hips and his mouth soft, pliable, agreeable to your every want and need. He was all yours, and that was all it took to silence him.

Well, not really silence him, but details weren’t necessary. Not when your plush lips were pressing against his neck like that. Hot, open mouthed. Insistent. Rousing. Dizzying. Intoxicating.

He’d be damned if he ever got enough.

His shirt was soon hanging open, tie discarded as the marks of that sexy lipstick shade littered his torso, and he wasn’t complaining. He definitely wasn’t complaining when you sank to your knees, unbuckling his belt as your tongue traced his abs. Didn’t dare when his slacks pooled to the floor, boxers dropping next, his hand tangling in your hair as-

“Hey.” Your fingers snapped in front of him, taking him out of his delightful daydream, however ill-timed. He swallowed, giving himself a once over. No tie discarded, no shirt undone, no lipstick marks and definitely no you looking so sexy on your knees for him. Having him whine for you.

That was a thought worth biting his lip to.

“You with me?” You continued, and upon his shaky nod, you gave him a weird look before continuing on with your briefing. He inwardly wiped sweat off his brow, thankful to whatever god was watching for the lucky save.

You were sipping a late-night decaf coffee as you contemplated the case again, dressed in your worst-looking pyjamas with an old tea stain on the front and fuzzy socks. Had you scoped the party properly, you could’ve clocked if big man Brierson was actually there. But he’d known, he’d known, and now everyone in Major Crimes was under investigation.

By you.

Well, and Agent Winchester, but you’d rather not think of him. You’re actually not quite sure what happened between you two, all that you broke your own rules for your heart to be broken too. You focused on your job, he had fun. Your cycle went that way.

You’d find a new case, he’d find a new girl. Both to busy yourselves so you wouldn’t have to think about each other, which worked until now.

You got a phone call, and you mindlessly picked it up, irritated as you were pulled from your contemplative thoughts. “What do you want? I’m busy.”

‘Dean, so nice to hear from you.’ You heard, his voice mimicking yours before switching back to his. ‘Wow, Agent, colour me surprised; it’s nice to hear from you too. How are you, Dean? I’m perfectly fine, sweetheart, how are you? You’re so polite.’

“Do I sound like someone to engage in small talk right now?” You deadpanned among chuckles at his own joke, putting your dinner - leftovers - in the microwave. God, you weren’t in the mood for this.

Eventually his snickers subsided, and he cleared his throat as you set the mug down. ‘Duly noted. You’re boring. Anyway, about the mole case. I think we should meet up in the office tomorrow to draw up a list of potential suspects.’

You took your warmed dinner, placing the phone between your shoulder and ear as you stabbed the spaghetti with a fork, chewing as you spoke. “And I think you’re insane. That’s the place we’re casing. Why in the hell would we start drafting up names there?”

You heard Dean clear his throat at the end of the line. ‘Right. Got it. My place?’ Truth is, Dean had been hoping you’d say anything but ‘let’s not draft at the office’. He was scared he’d lift you up on the nearest surface and do what he hadn’t the previous time, mark you, claim you and then let you claim him, mark him, wreck him. He didn’t know what you two were, or what you’d become.

Maybe strangers with very intense, deep seated sexual tension.

“What time?” You asked through yet another bite of spaghetti. You weren’t about to forgo dinner for this dude, cordiality be damned.

‘Tomorrow, straight after hours, just head to my place. Does that work for you?’

“Mm, yeah.” You nodded, setting down your plate to quickly note it in your schedule. “See you then, Agent Winchester.”

‘Call me Dean.’

“Agent Winchester.” It was the least you could do after how things got last time. Again, you’d rather not talk about it.

You walked into the DC office after registering, briefing with Agent Singer before heading to the break room, where you found Trainee Agent Harvelle, Trainee Agent Kevin Tran, Agent Benjamin Lafitte, Agent Garth Fitzgerald and Agent Sam Winchester.

You knew Sam. He was a damn sight more respectful and less… Dean-esque than his older brother. Smarter, yet less effective on brute force raids. For that, you needed Dean Winchester. Anything research, or hacking into databases, Sam was your guy.

“Agents.” You smiled awkwardly, not knowing how else to greet them as you went straight for the coffee pot. Thank the Lord for the petition to make the standard of coffee in that jug better that got the vote from every damn person in the department.

HR and Maintenance can suck it.

“Agent.” The rest of them replied, identically sipping cups of Joe.

“Agents.” Singer walked in, holding a file. “Briefing room. Now.” He walked out, and you all followed suit, taking your coffees with you because you needed the caffeine to sustain your brains. Once you all stepped into the briefing room, where Agent Winchester and Agent Nick Garrison were waiting.

Singer grunted, pulling up a slideshow on the board. “Let’s get this over with.” He showed bodies, robbed banks, hostage situations. “Six occurrences of organised crime over the past four weeks. All hitting major municipalities. Now it’s our jurisdiction.”

“What have we got from the crime scenes?” Agent S. Winchester asked, brow furrowed in thought.

“Nothing but this snake logo, spray painted at every scene.” Up comes a logo of a rearing cobra.

You shrugged, quickly figuring something out. “Well, that solves half of the mystery. They want our attention.”

“It is possible.”

“I think it’s a temper tantrum.” You snorted, pointing to the board. “Look at where they’re hitting. Large cities, maximum damage, it’s a cry out for our beady eyes. Leaving a logo at the scene? Someone either wants to get caught or lead us on.”

“Sounds kinda like girls at a bar.” Agent D. Winchester snickered, but earned a weird look from everyone in the room. “What? I make my own style of analogies, don’t come at me for it.”

“Who’s on the team, sir?” Lafitte asked, the man all slow drawl, suave talk and suspenders.

You pointed to Agent D. Winchester, smirking. “Leave him out, his main interests are girls and booze.”

“Blow me.” He scoffed in retaliation, glaring at you. That was a mistake on Dean’s part, cause he started to imagine it. Oh, that memory’s vivid as hell.

“Beg for it.” You shot back, and despite the steady inflation of awkwardness, he really had half a mind to beg for it, honour be damned to hell.

Pin drop silence. Shared smirks. Uncomfortable eye contact between you and Dean, your minds going to places they really shouldn’t.

Agent Singer cleared his throat, then continued talking. “I want you,” he pointed to you, “and the two Agent Winchesters and Agent Lafitte on it, and the two trainees Agent Tran and Harvelle to shadow. You’re dismissed, except for you two.”

Didn’t take a genius to know who ‘you two’ were.

So everyone but you and Agent D. Winchester filtered out, and the moment the door closed, you were both less bickering, head chopping and heart ripping. More on business.

“This is a good chance for you two to scout for our mole.” Singer looked between the two of you pointedly. “As much unknown history as you two have, you idjits need to set that aside. For the sake of our damn Major Crimes unit. Narcotics will give me hell if I don’t sort this out. And the board of directors will be less pleased that we’ve been compromised.”

“We understand, sir.” You nodded, understanding how goddamn serious this was. Lives were on the line. Your jobs, the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s maintained integrity. “We can put aside our differences, can’t we, daddy’s boy?” You smirked at Dean, then pretended to realise that you’d made a mistake. “Oh, my bad. Agent Winchester.”

Dean resisted a clapback with all his might. He didn’t care if their CO was right there, he’d bend you over this desk and show you who’s really in control here.

That would wipe the smirk off those pretty lips. Replace it with his claim over you.

“So, Dean, I wanna know.” Sam smirked, cracking open a beer and passing it to his older brother. “What’s with you and her?”

Dean scoffed, sipping the beer and shaking his head. “I’m asked this fifty times a day. There’s nothing going on here. We’re work colleagues. She’s incredibly annoying, and grating, and infuriating, and I’m extremely handsome.”

That got a wider smirk from Sam, a knowing one. “You knew who I was talking about.”

That caught Dean out, and he furrowed his brow in confusion. “Say what?”

“You have so many girls in your life that half of your contacts are women.” Sam raised an eyebrow, then chuckled. “But you knew who I was referencing first try.”

“Humour me, Sammy.” Dean grimaced, folding his arms. “How do you label intense sexual tension that was almost acted on yet it almost broke our personal set of rules? Hm? Thought so.”

“So, she’s kind of like an old flame.”

“That flame ain’t lit.”

Sam nodded slowly, giving a breathless chuckle and an inclination of his head. “Yeah. Sure.” He stepped out of the room to head upstairs, which alerted Dean of the implication. He rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up in the air.

“Hey! Sammy!”

NEXT UP:

“Oh, honey, such a flirt!” You laughed in a posh accent, mimicking your mother’s laugh to the best of your ability while you swatted Dean’s chest. He smirked at the look in your eyes, because goddamn was it obvious that you hated this.

“Darlin’, I can’t help myself around you.” He turned to the other charity goers with a proud smirk, gesturing to all of you. “Can’t keep my hands off my gorgeous wife. Might have to have something off the menu for dessert, if you catch my drift.” He winked at some elderly ladies, who giggled and waved him off.

“Such a charming boy.” One cooed, obviously eyeing Dean up with poorly restrained envy. While you looked around for your target, you missed the way Dean’s eyes travelled down your body in that form-fitting red dress, v-neck, v-back, thigh slit where he knew you had a thigh holster strapped in, all the good stuff. And his eyes were on those scarlet heels.

He was imagining ramming into you with those sexy things on. And that dress, well, it’d be off in second if he had the chance. And that lipstick? Well, it’d be smeared and leaving prints on his neck, chest, abs and- that’s going a bit too unprofessional.

Like, comment or reblog! I’d love to hear your feedback. Comment if you want to be added to the taglist.

TAGLIST:

@goldngguk @sweetpeachbombshell @slut-for-stiles @staple-your-mouth @daddyscrimsstuff

@deanbrainrotwritings

@dob-4-life @marcis-mixtapez @nonoreas0n @gabrielasilva1510

@lucyholmes13 @pandadork-blog1 @nicolstancu @malusinhaaaa @dybalabandolero

@a-cup-of-nightshade @tomatoessoup @sh0rtcakee @fall-06 @mckaykay-fandoms

@b3th13

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@targaryenluvs @bucky-hydra-hoe-barnes @leigh70 @aintnowayboi @ripoffsteveharrington

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@a-girl-who-loves-disney @jeneelsworld @deans-spinster-witch @deanspinsterwitchs-readinglist @kayleighwinchester

To be added to any character’s taglist of mine, find my form on my master list.

[totallybakedcake]

Boyfriend headcanons kaiju no 8 boys

Reno

Whenever you both are outside training or near anyone, he does nothing more affectionate than holding your hand at most, but when you both are at home, he does not let go of you. Back hugging you and snuggling into you. It's his favorite thing to do.

He loves to be the little spoon while cuddling. He always wants to be in your embrace while sleeping, or else he cannot sleep all night. "Name, can we please cuddle? I had a rough day." He says in such an adorable voice that how could you deny him?

He is a great cook and always makes you mouth-watering dishes to eat all day. He just loves seeing you enjoy his dishes and eat them so cutely.

He loves at-home dates. He just loves watching any movies, shows, or anime you want to watch as he cuddles you. When you both had your anniversary and you were in the mood for something fancy, he decorated the living room with flowers, teddy bears, chocolates, and gifts to surprise you. 

Hoshina

He absolutely loves it when you pamper him with all your affection. Cupping his face. Giving him onslaught kisses, burying your head in his neck. Whenever he thinks about that, His day becomes one of the best.

Hoshina is an overly protective boyfriend. The moment he comes home, he checks your body for any wounds. Whenever he even sees you interact with one of the juniors, he makes sure the both of you don't talk for more than 3 minutes, or else the game is over. He makes sure you feel safe and protective.

Hoshina loves giving you a flower and chocolate every day. He always has a bundle of chocolates with him and goes to a local flower shop to get you any cute flower.

He loves picnic dates and afternoon dates. He loves to take you to a quiet park. Lay down a blanket and rest in your lap as you and him talk for hours and hours. Picnic dates are usually in the morning, as he likes to take you out on brunches too. 

Kafka

He is the most affectionate boyfriend. He gives you many warm hugs every day. He loves to kiss your temple as you relax on top of him.

He loves hearing you talk. Your voice is just so comforting. He brings you to his lap and burys his face in your neck as you talk about anything.

He does not show his jealous side, as he knows you are loyal to him, but one thing he makes sure of is that you have a healthy routine. If he does not know that you have eaten well, slept well, and are drinking plenty of water, he has to check up on you because his mind keeps thinking about you.

Even though he does not look like it. Kafka is a fancy man. He takes you out to fancy restaurants to eat at on dates. He always has a private reservation ready for you and him. After all, your happiness is Kafka's happiness.

Gen

Gen has made you obsessed with gaming too. After all, games are addicting. He got you all kinds of gaming consoles and game figures to play with him.

A lot, meaning everyone asks you. Why choose Gen? An irresponsible captain who has such an attitude and is careless, but what they haven't seen is Gen's soft side. He makes sure you are okay. He cannot focus on anything unless you are safe. Once on a Kaiju mission when you got injured. Gen stayed up all night. Not touching his games or electronics once, as he needed to take care of you and make sure you were safe. Not letting you go on a mission unless you are recovered.

Even if he is loyal. He is the most jealous person ever. He knows your beauty and your aura, which makes people gravitate towards you. So, he makes sure to have you near him at all times, not letting you even talk to a guy in peace.

He loves arcade dates and karaoke dates, but if you don't want to go there, He takes you to amusement parks and water parks. Gen loves an adventure.

Hey yall. First ever post on tumblr so the writing may be tacky and awkward cause I wrote this in the middle of the night but I couldn't stop myself from writing for kaiju no 8 after finishing the whole manga in 4 days.

Have a great day!

[ghettogirly]

hiii (: can you do a armando headcanon on how he acts if he has a crush on you?

𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐍 -> HOW HE WOULD ACT WHEN HAVING A CRUSH ON YOU.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐗 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊!𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄!𝐎𝐂 (Y/N BURNETT)

[🕷️] warning: mature language, use of weapons, mention of a inappropriate lifestyle (cartel), family issues, mention of abandonment, Armando is going to be a little aggressive.

[🕷️] Authors note: Hope you enjoy!

[🕷️] 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐀𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐔:

-> When he first saw you at the house with Kelly and Dorn when his father brought him there, he was attracted to you.

-> You obviously hated him of course, he tried to kill your father a couple years back.

-> However, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. There was something different.

-> You had beautiful curly hair, your coils being tight forming a C-shape. Your eyes were a deep, dark brown while your lips were full and two toned.

-> He noticed the similarities between you and your dad, however, you was more the serious one out of the two. You hardly cracking that many jokes while your dad was sitting there laughing at life.

-> Maybe that’s partly his fault as you was a LOT more tense around him, not taking your eye off the male wherever he went.

-> was that a sense of attraction too though?

[🕷️] 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔:

-> when he first spoke to you, he was rude.

-> you was ranting to Mike about the potential dangers of being here which resulted in an argument with your Dad when he failed to listen to your side. However, he eventually got you to calm down and hear him out.

-> “She better be calm.”

-> “What the fuck did you just say?”

-> So, it did not go off to a great start.

-> Eventually, he got little sentences out of you. Whether that was making you explain the plan from the top to him again or to explain how to work something. He was always asking you questions. You eventually got sick of his persistence to talk to you,

-> Do you ever stop fucking talking?!”

-> That pissed him off. However, he couldn’t really allow himself to somehow retaliate, only feeling a sense of frustration yet guilt for your reaction towards him.

-> “Perdóname. I simply just wanted to know how my father was like before i came into the picture.”

-> That silenced you, the sentiment coming from out his mouth that you thought be was incapable of doing. Apologising, you decide to give him a chance.

-> “He was…”

[🕷️] 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐎𝐔𝐓:

-> this was the worst part for him.

-> he’s not a man to actually crave a relationship with a girl, especially to ask them out. they usually come flocking to him.

-> however, he found himself unable to hide his feelings for you. finding that one person who actually completes him fully and makes his day. he hates you for it.

-> it reminds him of his dysfunctional family. his father and his mother and how they were ok too of the world before his father sold his mother away. the perfect couple destroyed by a deadly betrayal leading to a web of lies and ultimately where he is today.

-> it would be a conflicting battle for him to eventually come to grips with his feelings. yet, i think he would be unable to verbally say them so he would have to write his emotions down in a letter.

-> the letter would be a symphony of words coming from his realisation of how and why he is the way he is, descending down to his feelings for you. the passion burning through the piece of paper as you take a journey through his hectic life.

-> the battle of abandonment issues to his anger for the world.

-> how could you really say no to his confession?

[🕷️] 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄:

-> he would take you to a fancy restaurant.

-> initially Armando would want to impress you and show you the ways of his impressive cartel connections before he was eventually caught and forced to leave it behind.

-> he would at first treat you as any random girl, thinking you would be impressed at the high calibre restaurant. but you wanted more than that.

-> you wanted the child Armando, the little kid inside who was unable to express himself as he had no-one to confide in. You wanted to see the things he enjoyed.

-> Then he took you to a park. Your “real” date.

-> It has street vendors of all the Mexican food you could think of, showing you the happiness and flavours of his culture.

-> This was the man you wanted to see.

[effy-writes]

Hii!! Can I request a one shot of Stolas with a fem s/o who rlly can't see WHY he wants her. Reader just believes that she's weird and ugly, practically worthless. And Stolas finds her crying one day and comforts her?? TY!! <33

ofc! thank you for requesting! hope you enjoy <3

🦉🦉🦉🦉🦉🦉🦉🦉🦉🦉🦉🦉🦉🦉🦉🦉🦉

Stolas x Fem! Reader: Darling You’re All I Need

You always had horrible self esteem issues. Constant bullying of your looks, your personality, even the existence of your life. Kids can be pretty mean, especially since they don’t know that bullying can affect a person this much. Eventually you believed them.

Now as an adult, those self esteem issues didn’t go away, in fact they gotten much, much worse. You completely shut out from the outside world, you didn’t want to be seen or heard. Or maybe that’s what you really needed.

You were surprised whenever you became friends with the prince of Hell, Stolas. You were shopping at a clothing store and bumped into him. You profusely apologized and felt super bad that you bumped into a prince. Stolas reassured you that everything was okay and that you didn’t have to apologize. He saw how upset you were and offered to buy you something from here. You denied the offer because you believed you should be the one buying him something. Stolas said, “That’s no need. How about we go get coffee or tea tomorrow?”

At first you denied and wanted to run out of the store, but Stolas said something that made you rethink your decision, “I find you interesting, that’s all. Of course, you’re allowed to say no, but I do want to get to know you.”

So the next day you learned all about him. He was at that store looking for clothes to buy for his daughter. He also used to have a toxic situationship with this one imp that ended about a year ago. You listened closely as he talked about his childhood, adulthood, his daughter, his duties as a prince, but he wanted to know more about you.

You were taken back. Nobody asked you that before, you were completely shunned down by your peers.

“I’m not that interesting.”

“I think everyone is interesting in their own way. Tell me about your life or the things you like.”

You definitely did not want to tell him about your life. “I like stars and moons. That’s why I was shopping there yesterday. Um..” You couldn’t think of anything else.

Because of this interaction alone, Stolas was intrigued by your nature. Eventually you guys would go get coffee, brunch, lunch, even dinner almost everyday, and during those interactions he would find out more about you little by little.

He first found out about your childhood and how you would get bullied by kids everyday. His heart ached for you while hearing them. Some days after that you told him about middle school-high school and things got much worse for you, but you always told him, “It didn’t affect me,” but he knows very well that it did affect you, but he didn’t want to bring it up first.

Lastly, he invited you to his house, and when he did he finally got the truth, “Me? Why me? You don’t have to invite me because you feel bad about me. Christ on a stick I should’ve lied about my childhood.”

“Darling, I’m not doing this out of pity. I’m doing this because I love your presence. Come to my house tomorrow at 7, i’ll have a fancy dinner for you.”

“What about your daughter?”

“She’ll be at her mother’s.”

“Okay…is this a date?”

“Would it be a problem if I said yes?”

Now you were definitely taken back by this, “I don’t know, Stolas. I’m flattered! Really! But…”

“Don’t fret darling. If you don’t want it as a date then it doesn’t have to be, but I would like to have this date with you.”

This was something different for you. Your whole life you felt worthless to a point where you don’t deserve anything good, especially when it comes to a prince asking you this.

Days later after that date you two made it official. It was still all new to you and you felt like you were being pranked, but Stolas has been nothing but kindness towards you.

You later on met his daughter who seemed to like you. You two would talk about superficial things, but eventually she opened up to you, as well as you opened up to her.

Your life with Stolas has been great, and you believe it’s 100% to good to be true. The relationship has been phenomenal, but your self esteem was still in a shit hole.

Stolas knows this, he knew it the moment you accidentally bumped into him, but he didn’t want to point it out, he wanted you to express your feelings about your self esteem.

The trauma of verbal abuse caught up to you recently, making your self esteem even worse. You tried to keep it together, but day by day you were on the verge of a breakdown.

You and Stolas was laying in his bed watching some romance movie. His arm was around you while the other one was trailing circles on your arm. You looked at him with sorrow, you dont deserve a guy like him. You’re bringing him down, you’re too much for him, you’re too ugly compared to him, your personality is too much for him to handle.

You couldn’t do this anymore, “I’m going to go to the bathroom real quick.” You got out from his holding.

“Do you want me to pause the movie?”

“No, you don’t have to. I shouldn’t be too long.”

“Okay, darling.”

The moment you locked yourself in the dark bathroom you cried. You hardly ever cry because you believe it makes you look weak. Everything you do makes you look weak.

Thought after another thought caused another sob. Your head began to hurt from the painful sobs. You tried to quiet them so you won’t disturb Stolas and make him worry, but with each passing, horrible thought you couldn’t silence yourself.

A worried knock came from the door, “Darling? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“I’ll be out in a minute!” You choked on your tears.

“Y/n…” Stolas’ volume softened, “Can you open the door?”

You let out a shaky breath and unlocked the bathroom door. Stolas peaked in and was about to turn on the lights,

“Don’t! Just leave them off.”

Stolas left the bathroom door open to bring some light in, he sat down across from you. “Why were you crying?” His tone was still soft.

“I don’t feel too good about myself.” You rubbed your eyes.

“About what?” Stolas scooted closer towards you where your legs was touching.

“I don’t deserve you. Why would you want a girl like me? I’m messy, Im nowhere near royal, I’m off putting and I definitely don’t have the looks.” You sniffed.

Stolas couldn’t believe this, “Why would you say that? I’m very fond of you and-”

“Save it, you’re with me because you feel bad. That’s gotta be the reason why you’re with me, because why else? You’re a prince you could’ve found ANYBODY other than me. Anybody who doesn’t have horrible self esteem issues and-”

Stolas dragged you into his lap and held you, “Darling, you’re all I need.”

You blinked through the tears, “I don’t..I don’t know.”

“You deserve love,” Stolas slowly rocked you, “I want to help you feel loved. You make me the happiest guy in Hell and it pains me to see you like this.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I love you. I love your existence, your presence, your face. You’re all I need.”

[dimlylittorch]

18+ MDNI

Club owner!John Price x transmasc!chubby!sweetheart!innocent!reader

I’m just craving to write something so self serving y’all- very much my kind of thing i like to read so I hope someone else might enjoy it too💀

My Masterlist🌿

It wasn’t your first time in a club, of course. You went once with one of your college clubs, so that totally counts right? Then again, that was just a basic campus dive bar. This place was a little more high end, but it came with great reviews.

You decided to dress casually- I mean it was basically a bar with extra add ons right? Who wouldn’t dress comfortably? Slipping into a slightly baggy Hawaiian shirt and some solid colored shorts to accommodate, you walked in front of your bathroom mirror and looked yourself over. A usual outfit for you, but you picked one of your prettier ones for the benefit of the doubt. A tan colored shirt with a dark red and green rose pattern on it.. who wouldn’t think it’s cute? And doesn’t everyone love to feel like they’re on vacation when at a bar? It was simple, really. You couldn’t see any reason not to wear it.

That is until you walk into the place.

Women wearing nice dresses, some men in suits.. you stuck out like a sore thumb. You already feel the embarrassment rising in your cheeks as you start to get stares, but you quickly calm yourself. Standing out is good. If they’re staring for that long, they must like my outfit, right? Maybe someone will ask me where I got it- which leads to a conversation, which leads to no more embarrassment. Everything’s fine.

You smiled softly to yourself as you eased your anxious thoughts, walking up to the bar and leaning over it a little rather than sitting at a stool.

“Could I just get an ice water please?” You ask sweetly with a smile to the bartender, earning you a questioning look. Your brain quickly tries to rationalize why he looked at you that way- many people didn’t order water a lot so he didn’t know what kind of glass to put it in? “You can just put it in a whiskey glass- makes me feel fancy” you beam at him. Of course, the bartender still was confused, but you didn’t pay any mind. You didn’t think he had any reason to he confused, so you didn’t worry about it.

Once you get your water, rather than sitting at a table you start to make your rounds, gently wandering around the club, lots of eyes on you, which you ignore with a smile to every persons gaze you catch. As you wander, you reach the more strip club-esque area, dancers on stage and walking around with lots of people sitting and watching. Men cheering and women laughing. You decide to grab a seat right in front of the stage, pulling out your wallet and pulling out the few bills you had. It wasn’t much, but it seemed rude to not tip the dancers.

The next performance starts and a woman starts her dance in front of you, meeting your gaze once or twice. You weren’t like the usual customer, not eye fucking her and practically salivating in your seat. You were actually watching her dancing, enjoying the performance like most people should. At the end of the routine, most people start throwing bills at her on stage, which to you seemed a little rude. You gently stand from your seat, leaning forward and offering her your money instead, earning you points and laughs from most of the other patrons.

“You did really well” you say softly with a genuine smile as she takes the money before you sit back down meekly, knowing everyone was making comments about you.

That was definitely a new experience for her, not often being treated with respect at her night job. She heads to the back after her performance, seeing her boss walking by.

“How did tonight go?” He asks with a cigar hanging from his lips.

“Not too bad. Made a decent amount.” She sighs softly. “The funniest thing though- there’s some kid out there, being all sweet and handing me the money.” She chuckles. “Poor thing got laughed at pretty hard.” She adds before she heads down the hallway.

John’s ears perk up at her words, his eyes turning towards the door that leads to the audience. He decides to peek out into the crowd, and his eyes land on a young man in a Hawaiian shirt, slipping his wallet into his pocket before he stands up from his seat and starts to leave the performance area. John’s curiosity is peaked. How is it that a sweet looking kid like that managed to wander into his club?

As you leave the performance area, you start to turn back towards the bar area, when you hear a voice behind you.

“Didn’t like the performance enough to stay?” A rough voice speaks from behind you. You quickly turn around, looking up at a tall man in a dark suit with a white button down, a few of the buttons undone so you could see some of his chest hair peeking out. He was definitely older- but also definitely attractive. Your eyes widen at his words, finally registering what he said.

“No! No- no, not at all” you ramble out quickly. “It was great- I just-“ you chuckle, clearly anxious about saying the wrong thing. He was pretty intimidating to look at. “I ran out of cash. And I didn’t want to not tip the next performers.” You add softly.

John smirks at how anxious you are around him, fully prepared to attempt to make you flustered. “Or maybe you just don’t like men.” He smirks as he gestures to the next performance, a male dancer taking the stage this time. He watches your eyes widen as your gaze catches the dancer, your cheeks heating up ever so slightly before you look away shyly.

“I-“ you start to whisper, but he quickly cuts you off.

“You like how he looks, hm?” He murmurs amusedly. “His name is Soap. Why don’t you come sit with me. We can watch him together.” He offers with a smirk.

Your cheeks are already red from standing in front of one of the most attractive men you’ve seen in a while- but the thought of watching a strip show with him? Jesus. How could you say no?

“Alright” you say softly, shyly following him to a nicer table in what seemed to be the V.I.P section. You set your glass of ice water on the table, glancing around absentmindedly before you look up to him. “Are there any coasters?” Your soft voice speaks.

John can’t help but let out a soft chuckle at your words, leaning back in the booth and raising his arms over the back of it.

“No coasters.” He murmurs. It occurs to him that I probably have no idea who he is. No idea that he owns this club. It’s the innocence as a whole that intrigues him.. the genuine smile, casual clothing.

“Right” you whisper softly, taking the glass off of the table and holding it on your lap, much to his amusement. As he watches the dancer on stage, you carefully glance over his form, taking him in. He was tall, well built, but not too muscular. He had a pouch on his stomach area, but who doesn’t love a dad bod? He looks.. good. Really good. Sure, plenty of guys are attractive, but he just seems to have all of the good qualities mixed into one man. Strong, yet soft, intimidating but not scary. You felt safe with him, surprisingly.

“You’re new here.” He murmurs as he looks across the crowd, paying attention to the performance, as if making sure the routine is going as it should. “Yeah.” You say softly as you sip your water. “I don’t drink much.” You add quietly.

“But you’re here?” He questions as he looks at you, his eyebrow raising slightly. “Forgive me for wanting to adventure out a little.” You chuckle softly. “It seemed.. nice. The ratings were good.” As he’s about to reply, a round of applause starts off, Soap’s routine having ended. You quickly set your glass in between your legs, clapping as you look towards the stage with a smile.

“He did really well” you smile at John when you glance over at him. John smirks slightly when he sees your smile, and he reaches over, grabbing the glass from in between your legs and holding it.

“Wouldn’t want your thighs to get cold, love.” He murmurs with a small smirk as he looks off towards Soap. Before you can reply, the stage is set for a new performance, and a freshly dressed Soap approaches the booth.

“How’d I do, sir?” He grins down at John.

“As good as ever” he smirks as he gestures to me. “Soap, this is my new friend..?”

“Y/n” you say with a sweet smile towards Soap. It’s a little awkward considering you were just watching him grind against a stage. “You’re a really good dancer”

Soap grins and puffs out his chest slightly with a smirk. “I’m a good dancer in private too, if you ever happen to be interested” he winks.

“Oh buzz off Johnny. I’m sure there are plenty of people waiting for you back stage.” John scoffs.

Your cheeks redden slightly, a shy chuckle slipping past your lips, making John glance over at you.

“Unless you’re interested, love.” He murmurs with a curious gaze.

Your eyes meet his and they widen slightly. “No! No-“ you say quickly. “I mean- I’m flattered- you’re- you’re very pretty” I chuckle shyly as your eyes meet Soap’s. You see grins starting to form on both of their faces, and your cheeks heat up further. “I- um” you stutter. “Thank you for the offer” you finally manage to spit out.

Both of the men start to chuckle amongst themselves, Soap leaning over the table to get a better look at you.

“Pretty boy, you’re allowed to say yes” he smirks. “Unless I’m not your type..” he fake pouts a little.

As he leans closer, your hearts speeds up a little. “You are” you whisper softly. “I’m just.. probably not a good candidate” you murmur with an apologetic smile.

Soap offers a small smile, standing back up with a nod. “No worries, pretty boy. I’m always around if you change your mind” he winks before he pats John’s shoulder, then heading off backstage.

John smirks as he sees your reddened cheeks, his gaze affectionate. “Not a good candidate, eh?”

You sigh softly, taking a sip of water. “Trans” you murmur without much more explanation. “By the time I explain it to people, the mood is ruined.”

“You kidding?” I laughs. “Soap will fuck just about anything. No need to be worried about that in here” he murmurs as he finishes his glass of whiskey. “Cmon. I’m taking you back” he says as he stands up, holding out his hand.

You glance at his outstretched hand, blinking a little in confusion. After a few moments you take it, standing up and letting him lead you backstage.

tips and requests are open :D

haven’t been on my writing game lately so i’m sorry if this wasn’t that great!

[morningstargirl666]

WIP WEDNESDAY THURSDAY

I swear, I intended to get something done for wednesday but it never really works that way (don't come at me y'all). Also, since I'm rewriting tbbw at the mo, it's kinda the only wip I'm working on so most of the edits are focused around the siblings - not the klaroline.

However! Made some changes to one of the scenes where Klaus broods over Caroline and here we are, on this rare occasion, to see some of the changes I've made. Spoilers under the cut:

“You are in such a foul mood today.”

Klaus made a noise that might have been a growl. “If you hadn’t noticed, Esther is still out there no doubt plotting another way to kill me and my family. Not to mention my siblings are still bound together making us more vulnerable than ever. And now-” he ground out, hissing the words through his teeth, “I find out that a white oak of the same line as the tree that made us vampires might be out there somewhere in the world, waiting to be used to kill us.” Klaus glared dangerously at Sam, lip curled as he turned around to stare instead at the fire. “My mood is perfectly appropriate.”

“So…” Sam took another bite of his apple, slowly raising it to his mouth, eyes on Klaus, who was watching the sketches become devoured by flames, a brooding hand resting under his chin. As Sam chewed, he gestured to the fireplace with the apple core. “It has nothing to do with why you’re burning sketches of one Caroline Forbes?” he asked, perfectly innocent.

“I’m burning them because she means nothing to me,” he ground out through gritted teeth, refusing to turn and deign Sam with a glance. “She was a passing fancy, nothing more.”

Sam titled his head, squinting. “The wolf didn’t seem to think that.”

“My wolf is clearly defective,” Klaus spat, throwing a hand out, abandoning his attempt at a calm, contemplative stance.

“If you say so,” Sam muttered with raised brows, deliberately not looking at Klaus and instead focusing on his phone as he munched on his apple.

Klaus shook his head, glaring into the flames as he watched the sketches burn. Sam’s silence gnawed at him, making him twitch with the urge to explain himself.

It wasn’t long before he did. 

“I knew Esther was planning something, I knew she would betray us and I did nothing because I was distracted by a girl that leapt at the chance to attack my family the second opportunity arose,” he burst out, whirling on Sam. Mouth halfway to his apple, Sam froze, rather wide-eyed. Klaus continued on regardless, his words growing more vicious, poisoned with such vitriol, his lips curled into a snarl. “Kol got daggered because of her! The Salvatores nearly killed you - because of her,” he spat, emphasised with a pointed jab to the floor. Sam lowered his apple, cowered by the wild look in Klaus’ eye. The man in question laughed, a short huff of bitterness, gesturing to Sam angrily, inviting him to prove him wrong. “So please, tell me why I should entertain this infatuation any longer? When it has proved to be dangerous not only to my own sanity but also to the safety of this family.”

Sam didn’t say anything for a long moment, his appetite completely forgotten. Then, slowly, he looked up at Klaus, a certain defiance in his eye.

“She knew about the champagne, Nik,” he said softly. Immediately, the anger, the readiness for a fight - it all drained away, leaving Klaus feeling wrong-footed in the face of Sam’s pointed truths. “Granted, she didn’t know what spell was in the champagne; didn’t know you weren’t linked to your siblings… but she knew you hadn’t drunk it. And she didn’t tell her friends.” Sam smiled sadly, shrugging helplessly. “Maybe it is stupid. Maybe it is a mistake. But if it was me? Personally, I’d want to know why she didn’t betray you as much as you’d like to believe.”

Klaus forced himself to swallow. He quickly looked away, unable to keep looking at the expression on Sam’s face that seemed to see through him entirely, his words resonating loudly inside his mind. Heaving a sigh, Sam stood, throwing the apple core into the nearest wastebasket. He hesitated before leaving the room, gaze softening on Klaus, sympathy in his eyes. 

“Just because your parents didn’t love you, doesn’t mean no one else will,” he said. 

Then Sam left, not allowing him time to respond. Klaus glared at his back, hands clenched so hard his knuckles turned white. 

“Love is a vampire’s greatest weakness,” he ground out, calling after him.

Sam stopped in his tracks, slightly turning his head back towards Klaus. Then he smiled, and with one sentence, shattered a belief Klaus had closely courted for centuries. 

“Good thing you’re not a vampire then, isn’t it?”

And with that parting remark, Sam turned with a smirk and left the room, leaving Klaus wide-eyed, forced to contemplate over what he had said. In the dancing flames of the hearth, the sketches Klaus had thrown into the fire continued to burn, flames licking at their edges and crawling across the lines of charcoal and pencil, leaving nothing but ash behind. He looked down at the last sketch of Caroline he’d drawn: the first moment she stepped into his studio, eyes wide with awe as she craned her head to look up at the paintings hung around on the walls. Fingers reverently skimming over her face, he gently tugged the paper from the pad but didn’t throw it into the flames like the others, placing his sketchbook aside on the mantel almost with half a mind. Then, careful not to damage the soft lines of Caroline’s features, he folded the sketch tentatively in two and slipped it into his back pocket.

He told himself he would burn it later. He didn’t.

[always-aqua]

.

[turtleblogatlast]

I think a lot about Leo standing up for his brothers in the things that really matter to them.

Like- Leo is the one who immediately pushes Mikey and Donnie into finding Raph the second it’s clear that their oldest brother is missing because he knows Raph can’t handle being separated like that.

Leo is the one who stands up for Mikey when Mikey wants to go on a solo mission, actively vouching for him and being the one to convince Raph into letting Mikey go, because being independent and proving himself just as capable of standing on his own two feet as everyone else means so much to Mikey.

And Leo defends Donnie’s honor in particular when his brothers’ intelligence is insulted because Leo is well aware of how important Donnie’s smarts are to him - and how important having those smarts valued and acknowledged is as well.

All this goes right into just how well Leo knows his brothers. For as much as he’ll tease or fight with them, he knows them, and he loves them.

[larapaulussen]

[idealism-world]

need y'all to realize tme doesn't mean transmasc. tme doesn't even mean afab (and the idea that tma people are attacking tme people for their agab is extremely transmisogynist) a cis man is tme. a cis woman is tme. transneutral people who are afab, amab, and intersex are mostly likely tme. intersex people can be tme or tma. tme just means Transmisogyny exempt. i'm tme. my parents are tme. You are just making it endlessly harder for tma people to talk about their oppression because you think every time they say tme they're attacking transmascs. maybe if you gave a fuck about tma people you wouldn't nitpick their language. just saying.

edit: an anon (rudely) pointed out that cis black women and gnc men are also affected by transmisogyny at times. i didn't mean to exclude them and i think it's important to note that people who are not transfem or intersex can be affected as well. regardless, it's even more important to acknowledge that the terms were made by and for transfems, and not to push them aside for cis people who are sometimes tma.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Recent-ish life pictures and etc.

[runawaycarouselhorse]

Three little dark brown spots set in a splash of milky light brown On the palm of my left hand, I showed to my mother, curious. She took one look and said: "Dirt."

I felt my heart crushed to powder.

My sister, filled with self-loathing About her appearance, envious Of how I never seemed to hate mine. "I love my big, poofy, wavy hair!" "You love frizz for some reason." She lamented her dark eyes, Told her I always liked mine, They reminded me of black tea— A deep, reddish-brown; tea-coloured. She looked closely at my eyes; "Dirt."

I felt my heart crushed to powder.

I never stopped loving my hair or my eyes! I just loved them less: sad, hateful things.

Returning after prayer in medical school, Lashes still too wet for my glasses, I stepped into my sunny lecture room, My late friend (one of only two) cried: "You have light brown eyes! Your glasses Hide them–destroy them." Like a poem!

Once, I sat on my bed, in the sunlight. Mama insisted on open windows, I like morning light, but not mid-day heat. So I always closed them at noon— I sat in the sun, mama stood in the door She hurriedly called my dad over to see. "Look, in the sun, her hair looks golden!"

[flovverworks]

after a billion yrs i added a lil line about my gbf verse.....<3 one day i might flesh it out to something in-universe, but since gbf is so "oh ure from another world? ya that happens..." i....am gonna keep w that..........(also cuz i do think discussing the different ways of magic, moon-enemy & this n that is more fun like this