#and some diet cognac

[cinamun]

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[coopers-kitchen]

(Photos of @feedingfat)

There's a slight difference between being a gourmet and a gourmand.

A gourmet is someone who cares about ingredients and qualities. The pleasure of eating is in high quality ingredients and exotic recipes. A gourmand is all about quantity over quality.

Of course, it's possible to be both - like me - and fat longpigs give me the chance to indulge in both at once.

Most fat longpigs sit happily on the gourmand end of the scale. It's all about gaining weight through eating plenty, without much thought into what they're eating. Delicious, but sometimes you're craving something different. After all, there's a difference between regular beef and kobe.

This pig approached me because he knew I could give him the gourmet experience he was craving - and one I love to give.

I treated Iberico here like kobe beef. Minimal exercise, plenty of cage time, massages, and only the finest foods - as long as he cleared his plate and gained weight on schedule. The cost of keeping my housepigs tripled, both because the more expensive ingredients and the increased volume. We're talking truffles, oysters, lobster, caviar, kobe beef, Iberico pork, expensive booze, cheeses, and plenty of longpork. Even when I took his balls I fried them in truffle oil and served them with edible gold, caviar. Still, I can afford it, and seeing him stuff his face knowing that one meal cost more than a week of keeping a caged pig fed definitely got my stomach growling.

Well, you can tell from the stretchmarks that he was focused on weight gain, and he was more than happy when I told him it was time for me to get a return on my investment. I took over one of my restaurants for an exclusive, $20,000 a plate event where I gave this pig the experience he deserved.

For this pig I chose a peach, truffle, saffron rice, and longpork (all sourced from Grade A and above pigs) stuffing, forcefed him a bottle of cognac, then covered him in a peach, saffron, and cardamon glaze. He couldn't have been more eager to get trussed, gagged, and slid into the oven, content that his gourmet diet had led to a once-in-a-lifetime meal for so many diners.

I more than made up the cost of keeping this pig and walked away with a full belly and plenty of leftovers. Gourmet is fine, but that doesn't mean I don't enjoy some leftover pork sandwiches while binging Netflix or getting blown by my housepigs - and a sandwich from this pork was more delicious than some whole roasters I've enjoyed.

[nightmareb1tch]

Incorrect quotes thingy: Conik and Jasper are next in line

Cognac and Jasper's relationship in a nutshell

Cognac: I’m in love with you. Jasper: We called off the prank war last night at midnight, dork. Cognac: I know. Jasper: Ah. Okay. Um. Cool. Neat. Very cool. Cool. Cool. Coolcoolcool-

Jasper: So I can either do something dumb that could very well get me injured or I can listen to Cognac and not do the thing, Jasper: Well there’s a clear right answer here. Jasper: *proceeds to throw five packs of mentos into a barrel full of diet coke*

Jasper: As top in this relationship, I think we should- Cognac: I can't believe you're pulling rank on me.

Jasper: What are your adjectives? Cognac: …You mean my pronouns? Jasper: No, I know what your pronouns are! What are your adjectives? Cognac: …I dunno. What are yours? Jasper: Noisy and chaotic! Cognac: I’ve never had something go from making no sense to making complete sense so quickly.

Cognac: Okay, help me, please! Jasper: Got two words for you. Cognac: I bet they won't be helpful. Jasper: Your problem. Cognac: I was right.

Cognac: I’m doing what I can to jog your memory. Jasper: It’s jogging, I guess. Its tiddies are jiggling a little. Cognac: Nice.

Jasper: What do you do for a living? Cognac: I exist against my will.

Jasper: Whether or not I pay income taxes is none of the government's business. Cognac: No, well, actually, it is. Jasper: You don't know my name or what I look like, good luck finding me.

Cognac: The stars are so beautiful... Jasper: They're just giant balls of gas. Cognac: You know what, if you're just going to ruin this, then- Jasper: And yet none of them are as huge as my love for you. Cognac: Oh...

Cognac: You look mentally ill. Jasper: I am. Let’s go.

Cognac: What’s sexting? Jasper: I'm not having this conversation with you.

Cognac: So you like cats? Jasper: Yeah. Cognac: *tries to impress them by slowly pushing a glass off the table*

Jasper: Sorry I’m late, I was doing things. Cognac: Hi, I’m ‘things’.

Cognac, holding an antique bottle: Is this whiskey or perfume? Jasper: *grabs and chugs the entire bottle* Jasper: Jasper: It's perfume.

Cognac: Yo! I heard you like reptiles, got any fun facts? Jasper: If a crocodile eats your dad, they become your new dad.

Jasper: Valentine’s day is just a consumerist holiday that holds no real value other than drive people insane buying heart shaped chocolates for their significant others and pos- Cognac: I wrote you a poem. Jasper, already crying:You did?

Jasper: What does a winner do when life gives them lemons? Cognac: Um, make lemonade? Jasper: No, they squeeze them right back into life’s eyes!

Cognac: Stay foxy. Jasper: Die lonely.

Cognac, talking about Jasper: WHAT THE FUCK I WAS ARGUING WITH THEM AND I SAID “OOH YOU WANNA KISS ME SO BAD” AND GUESS WHAT? THEY DID. THEY KISSED ME. WHAT THE FUCK WHAT DO I DO. (this is one of the few times he panics)

Cognac: You want some leftovers? Jasper: What are those? Cognac: You've never had leftovers before? Jasper: No, ‘cause I’m not a quitter.

Jasper: Ugh, crushes are so dumb. Cognac: I know. Whenever I’m near the person I like I just start acting stupid. Jasper: But you’re always acting stupid? Cognac: ... Cognac: Yeah, don’t think about that too hard.

Cognac, dashing into the room: WHY AREN’T THE DISHES IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER?! Jasper: …What does that even mean?!

Jasper: Dom or sub? Cognac: I guess Domino's, since I don't go to Subway that much. Don't see why you'd put them in the same category though.

Cognac: We'll talk about this later. Jasper: Fine, I won’t be listening.

Kidnapper: I have your kid. Cognac: What? I don't have a kid... Kidnapper: Then who just called me a lowlife bitch and spit in my face? Cognac: Oh my god, you have Jasper.

Cognac: I have feelings for you. Jasper: Why? What's wrong with you? Are you sure you're okay?

Cognac: I want a trip down memory lane. Jasper: *proceeds to grab every warrior cats book they have and sets them in Cognac's lap* Jasper: I heard you needed these? Cognac: YES! ALL OF THEM!

Cognac: Why is there blood everywhere? Jasper: I may have aggressively poked someone with a knife. Cognac: You stabbed someone?! Jasper: No, no. I aggressively poked someone with a knife.

[noirapocalypto]

🥦 + 🍹for them three boys? ♡ I'm feeding them steamed broccoli and pina coladas

Thank you 🖤🤗

[ OC Questions ]

🥦 - Does your OC eat healthily or live off junk food?

Judah: His diet is very healthy and nutritious. Not exactly strict, he does indulge in sweets and not so healthy goods every now and then. But he has the money, so he very much prefers foods that are better for him. However, he is a stress eater and that's when the greasy junk food comes in. Sometimes he can be seen going to town on a burger or having a pizza delivered directly to his boardroom by his frantic assistant because his cravings are at an all time high.

Salem: Salem is in the middle. It's not so much that the foods he eats are unhealthy, he just skips meals or makes the quickest thing possible without even trying to make it a meal--especially during his self-destructive days. He'll dump a can of cold tomato sauce in a pot of pasta, give it a quick stir and voila, bone atrophy. Though, now that he's in a better place with his health, he tries to eat a bit more frequently and he's a bit more considerate with what exactly he eats.

Embry: Embry grew up with hearty, delicious foods though not exactly the most nutritious or healthy (that delicious Southern food 🤤). Though after he self-exiled himself, all that stopped. Similar to Salem, Embry's eating habits weren’t that great. Sometimes junk food was all he had to eat--though he'd try really hard to stock up on things that had a bit more nutrition in them. However, now in the present? Back to eating a bit more healthy--especially since he now lives with a roommate that can not only cook, but knows how to make a healthy meal.

🍹 - Does your OC drink? If so, what’s their drink of choice?

(Bear with me, I don't drink so I don't really know my drinks all that well dfdfkjghlsdj)

Judah: Surprisingly, Judah isn't much of a drinker. He'll social drink though, but never to get drunk or to let loose. I see him as a wine guy. But I can also see him drinking some whiskey or cognac too. If one pays closer attention, they'll notice he never really has more than one glass.

Salem: He does drink, though it's not as heavy as it was before. Similar to Judah, he'll mostly social drink now a days but can be convinced to have a bit more and get shit-faced with someone. I can see him being a vodka guy. Maybe rum.

Embry: My sweet boy sticks with the classics. Can't go wrong with a good beer. That's mostly what he sticks with--because I don't think he can handle hard liquor very well. Not that he can't drink--this boy can drink. He's just not the most pleasant drunk when he's drunk off liquor. So beer is his go-to--especially if he wants to keep things chill.

(All three would go nuts on some pina coladas though 🤭)

[kanayatherainbowdrinker]

Miss Kanaya. I must implo+re if yo+u enjo+y cheesedburgers, and if no+t what is yo+ur favo+rite fo+o+d? Transcript: Miss Kanaya, I must implore if you enjoy cheesedburgers, and if not, what is your favorite food? :End Transcript.

KANAYA: I Dont Enjoy Human Muscle Beasts But My Diet Must Include Some Red Meats Unfortunately KANAYA: Purrhaps My Favorite Dishes Include Fish Such As Sushi Or Seared Tuna With Asparagus Although KANAYA: My Favorite Drink Is Teal Blood But Wine And A Tantalizing Cognac Are Adequate Occasionally KANAYA: To Their Credit Humans Were Brilliant With Rocky Road A Delectable Treat

[erotetica]

-Zucchini bread is So Good if you like carrot cake-y baked goods; most recipes want grated 'kinis, so how noticeable they are in the end is up to which grater you like!

Tl;dr for the cut: if u hv spare hours to ignore a pot, stew either softens or dissappears vegetables, & consider buying a blender for smoothies, especially if u like/need liquid meal alternatives

-barrier to entry is time to mince/a blender with a goodish blade, unfortunately, bc produce (esp skins, which are good to include for the concentration of nutrients there) is Hard--but smoothies mask veggies well!

Liquid meal replacements are also good for physical/mental/medication caused issues with solid food--personally got Fucking Sick of Ensure/etc, but 'home-cooked' smoothies usually satisfy

The strongest sweeteners are apples & ripe bananas (freeze them if u don't want ice watering stuff down, or ur blender can't handle ice!) If you go a shake-direction, sweeten with ice cream/protein powder/nut butters.

There are also a ton more extract flavors than vanilla! My favorite is coconut & they're great in blender shits/coffee (& jazzing up medicated chapstick but I digress)

I find spinach the least/kale the most noticeable add-ins

FRUIT PITS & STONES ARE POISON BTW (APPLE SEEDS @ QUANTITY TOO IIRC)

(ALSO CITRUS RIND IS NICE GRATED/ZESTED INTO SOME THINGS, BUT GROSS. DON'T BLEND THAT SHIT)

(Juicing with no juicer hack: a 'nut milk bag' will strain blended produce, down to the tiny bits/berry seeds!)

(Also use the bag on berry drinks, if you have textural issues--fresh & frozen berries (except the humble blueberry) have Noticeable and Un-pulverizeable seeds)

personal faves:

1 overripe frozen banana

1 handful frozen Dole pineapple chunks

drops of coconut extract to taste

2 to 3 handfuls of fresh spinach

1/2 cup coconut water/milk/white Monster Energy/whatever tbh

Blend in stages depending on blender size, & if using fresh/thawed fruit add ice if u like, but this portion size is a filling meal substitute 4 me

-Stew!!!! My friend stew!!!!! With a base of stock, or water & a bouillon cube/salty spice mix, you can do anything to fit most any diet.

Good thickeners are beans (protein bonus!) & brown rice, which melt to nothing if you simmer it long enough.

Basically all veggies melt; leafy veg cooks fastest/root veg longest. For meat, stick to fattier/tougher cuts, which tenderize over long cooks.

BIG REC for Cuban bean stews!! Traditionally eaten over white rice

I've never made the same stew twice, but some fave staples are bay leaves/star anise (neither are edible, spoon out after cooking)/pot roast cuts of beef/sliced chorizo/washed, whole itty-bitty potatoes with their skins/a dry (bitter) wine, cognac, sherry (tbh red wine is v similar & cheaper tho), or vodka/thyme, & tbh dried is more flavorful than fresh sprigs, save ur $

okay so if you need more veggies/fruit, protein or fibre (bc most people do NOT eat enough) in your diet but you struggle to do so, hear me out:

look up recipes (especially snack recipes) that are child/toddler/baby-friendly

i can guarantee there is a woman with a cooking blog out there who has found away to pack a bunch of vegetables into a surprisingly delicious little snack for her kids. this process has never failed me when i feel like i am not eating enough fruits and veggies. my entire flat is eating spinach muffins at the moment, which doesn’t sounding particularly appealing to most people and yet somehow. they’re delicious.

[sigmaleph]

@serinemolecule asked me for hot takes on this 2006 article on Argentinian food, which I am now reorganising into a proper post for y'all's consumption. you're welcome.

First of all: the titular thesis that you should eat two steaks a day. I am forced to clarify that as 'should's go you should eat zero steaks a day, but this is ethical rather dietary advice and I don't follow it as well as I should, so, y'know. I would engage with this on the level it was stated, but I actually have no opinion on it. Moving on...

Argentine beef really is extraordinary. Almost all of this has to do with how the cows are raised. There are no factory feedlots in Argentina; the animals still eat pampas grass their whole lives, in open pasture, and not the chicken droppings and feathers mixed with corn that pass for animal feed in the United States.

This is, as it happens, completely false. There absolutely is plenty of feedlot beef being eaten in Argentina, and this was also the case back when this article was written. There's grass-fed beef too, and maybe the writer structured their life around only eating those, but the claim that there are no feedlots is just not true.

if you let them make the call, you get a two-inch thick of meat[...]The Argentine steak stands alone, towering three inches over the plate,[...]This gorgeous specimen is called a lomito; it's a standard lunchtime steak, clearly so thin that the Argentines are embarrassed to send it out into the world without a protective wrapping of ham and cheese

I have no idea what their obsession with steak thickness is; meat exists at various levels of thick and thin to suit various tastes. If you like yours thick that's fine but quit the projecting, y'know.

As you might expect, vegetarians will have a somewhat rough time here. For most people in Argentina, a vegetarian is something you eat. One's diet will accordingly lean heavily on pastas, gnocchi, salads, and (for the less squeamish ) fish. Vegans will not survive in Argentina.

This is, unfortunately, true (well, hyperbole, but). Rinna had a rather bad time trying to find vegan food when fae came over for visits. The situation is improving slowly, at least.

The homemade cookies bought in the minimarket downstairs taste of steak. [picture of alfajores de maicena[

Jesus. Find somewhere better to buy your snacks.

It should be no surprise that the land of beef also has excellent milk and butter. The milk comes in plastic bags that would give any American marketing department a heart attack. They proudly advertise "GUARANTEED 100% BRUCELLOSIS AND HOOF-AND-MOUTH FREE". One brand even brags that its bacteria count never exceeds 100,000 per mL, and prints daily statistics to prove it (only 82,000 bacteria/mL on Monday! mmm!).

Are you under the impression American milk doesn't contain bacteria and that when it spoils it's because of the molecules' sheer willpower? Or do you just object to the reminder that they exist?

This menu is delicious, but with rare exceptions it is all you are going to get. People coming for more than a few weeks are advised to bring a discreet bottle of Tabasco sauce.

Eat at better restaurants.

With any order from the master menu comes the Bread Basket, which should be treated as you would treat a basket of wax fruit, that is, as a purely decorative ornament. It is considered bad form to actually eat anything from Bread Basket

What are you talking about. Do all your dining companions just suck, eat some bread.

Dulce de leche is a culinary cry for help. It says "save us, we are baffled and alone in the kitchen, we don't know what to do for dessert and we're going to boil condensed milk and sugar together until help arrives". This cloying dessert tar is so impossibly sweet that you wish you were ten years old again, just so you could actually enjoy it. It is everywhere. There is a special dulce de leche shelf in the supermarket dairy case, and the containers go up to a liter in size. Even the churros are stuffed with it - the churros, Montresor!

It is rare that I feel insulted for the sake of my country, but this? How dare you.

Yes, of course we fill churros with dulce de leche; the real question is why anyone doesn't, short of dietary restrictions. Finding out that people do otherwise was like learning that in other countries, "sandwich" just means two slices of bread. Live a little. Eat a real godsdamned churro.

I spent a considerable amount of time trying to figure out how meals work in Argentina, and they remain a mystery to me. Dinner is clear enough: people tend to go to restaurants beginning at ten o'clock (for those with small children), with the main rush around eleven, and dinner is pretty much over at one or so in the morning. And breakfast - or rather, its absence - follows as a logical consequence of eating a steak the size of a beagle at midnight. But I have yet to figure out whether people eat some kind of meal in the afternoon, and if so, when.

At... noon? Like. We eat lunch. Usually somewhere around 12:00. I am eating lunch right now, and I have done so essentially every day of my life. This is just baffling.

I've come to think the culprit in the missing Argentine lunch scene is yerba mate.

how.

Where the ignorant foreigner may see just another kind of herbal tea (yerba mate is a very unassuming shrub that grows in the northern parts of the country) the Argentine sees a taste treat of unimaginable subtlety, and a tonic for all his problems. The Wikipedia article on proper mate preparation should give you a warning of the level of obsessiveness attainable here (the Urugayans are even worse). To the virgin palate, mate tastes like green tea mixed with grass clippings. The beverage is traditionally drunk out of a little gourd, through a metal straw called a bombilla, with hot (but not boiling!!) water poured into it (without wetting the surface!! clockwise!!) from a thermos.

Yeah, this is accurate. Well, not the clockwise part, never heard anyone complain about that and I can't imagine it mattering.

What distinguishes mate from coffee and tea is the social context - two or more people share a gourd, with a designated pourer in charge of refilling it with hot water after each turn. The ritual is low-fuss but indispensible. You can buy mate gourds and thermoses in any grocery store, and get your thermos filled with hot water at any convenience store or gas station, but you will never see mate served in restaurants or sold in little disposable paper gourds, to go. it's not that people refuse to drink mate alone - anyone working a solitary shift will have a gourd in hand - but that the concept of being served mate by someone who does not share it with you seems impossible.

This is also true. Attempts have been made to sell to-go mate but it's never very popular, the social ritual is important. Also unfortunately a disease vector, I haven't had any mate in a year and a half.

Mate aficionados will tell you that mate contains a special compound, mateine, that serves as a tonic and mild stimulant, promoting alertness without making it hard to sleep, reducing fatigue and appetite, helping the digestion and serving as a mild diuretic. Scientists will tell you that mateine bears a suspicious resemblance to a chemical called caffeine. Mate aficionados will then grow indignant, explaining that mateine is really a stereoisomer (mirror image) of caffeine, with different effects, which will in turn irritate the scientists, who will snap that caffeine doesn't have a chiral center, so it can't have a distinguishable mirror image, and why don't the mate aficionados just put a sock in it.

The first part of this is true; some people definitely think "mateine" is different from caffeine and it absolutely isn't. Never heard the stereoisomer claim before but googling it does confirm some people say so.

still have no idea what any of this has to do with lunch, though. I promise you nobody skips lunch because mate is just too filling.

The wine here is very good (something has to stand up to that steak), but Argentina has no liquor to call its own, relying on whiskies like Old Smuggler and the low-maintenance Don Juan cognac to carry the flag.

There's a fundamental omission from this list and it's called fernet.

Beer is ubiquitous and comes in a bewildering variety of sizes, although there is a skittishness about the full-on liter. Things level off at 970 mL. In my case, it means I end up drinking 1940 mL of beer as a kind of personal protest, and all is well with the world. To make up for the abundance of sizes, beer comes in only one variety, Quilmes, which inevitably comes served with a tripartite platter of snacks - nuts, salty cylinders, and aged potato chips.

I never had trouble buying beer by the litre, but I confess I never tried to do so in 2006 on account of being under 18 at the time.

Anyway, beer comes in a lot more varieties today, thankfully, because Quilmes sucks. I'll never be a beer person, but at least these days there's options I tolerate.

[original post]

[adabofblessings]

Au where the kids, June and Fowler aren't exactly human, but since they are like only friendly humans the autobots see daily and the "humans" are trying to keep their own identities hidden no one notices. (Raf is centuries old vampire, Miko is a demon hunter with demonic blood, Jack and June are werewolves and Fowler is a shape shifting alien)

Okay, yes, i love this type of idea but I would definitely use different mythical creatures in each of the character's to match their personalities!

I searched some mythicals from each of the children's culture and region from them and Here's my idea:

Miko

I would think she would be a Kitsune. They're foxes with one or more tails the older and wiser they get. they have the ability to change into human from as well. They tend to be loyal, faithful and can be a friend, but rather mischievous. Definitely think that Miko is loyal and mischievous. Think about it: her loyalty stayed with Bulkhead when he was in rehabilitation. And lets not forget that she runs her little legs towards that groundbridge whenever she gets the chance at it.

Appearance wise when she is in fox form is sleek black a hint of streak of silver trailing from her tail and fades into a light gray at the tips of her tail (not very accurate with the folklore but why not?) Her human from takes after her character in TFP. She still has the spunky personality everyone knows.

One thing I wanna headcannon in all three the children is that they are older than they look like. Lets say that Miko is about 163 years old. Shes still a 'baby' in her mythical origin, but she surpassed the 100 mark, so shes able to get more tails after turning hundred. She now has two tails and they're the most gorgeous tails.

Though she is young, she has more knowledge than adult humans. But she gets bored easily so she just hangs around school most of the time, even though she rarely does the homework. Both her and Jack known each other for quite some time, only because they are both active at night before they met the elusive vampire, Raf.

She fly, which is a natural joy for her cause she likes going fast. However, her biggest flaw is not forming into her human form correctly. She often has to hide her tail or ears if they don't disappear when transforming into a human. She tries go stay hidden but some people had caught her transforming.

Not normal and it clearly shows. Is frequently made fun of by humans for being weird. If only they knew....

Jack

Jack and his mother are the typical werewolves. They are highly close and often roam the nights most of the time. Though, werewolves they are not your average kind of werewolves. They could transform into regular old wolves anytime, but rather than being vicious, they are guardians of those who are lost souls.

Basically, June was the guardian before her son will take her place. They are not immortal but they live much more than an average human lifespan. Probably 3 thousand years of age before they die.

Jack the deadly silent person who prefers the natural quietness. Due to his wolf nature, his and his mom's eyes are strikingly blue and their fur coats are as black as coals, often a advantage during the night, just as his hair. He's very mysterious and very, very few people know his secret and that's only his mom, Agent Fowler and his friends, raf and Miko, since they're mythical beings as well. Hes also a baby and is only a few years older than Miko. 165 perhaps.

He has fast regeneration healing, speed like the wind, super strength and a super intellectual with damn good eyesight.

But one thing he always has trouble is eating. Normal people can basically eat anything human goods, but his diet consists of mostly raw meat products. He can't have chocolate so hes limited to his choices due to his diet.

Tries to act normal but just gives off spoopy and mysterious vibes.

However, hes very relaxed when around Miko and Raf.

Raf

Rafael would definitely be a vampire. He's quiet, secluding and genuinely a very odd person. He has a pale-like skin and the deepest red-cognac eyes with a light shade of black under his eyes, as if he never sleeps. Honestly, it just looks like he hasn't slept in years.

He doesn't smile with a toothy grin due to his fangs unless hes around Miko or Jack. He wears proactive clothing from the sun and tries his best to act normal...even though everyone sees him as a dark-fiery red head who looks kinda emo. As most vampires they live for a long time! Even though he is centuries years old, hes the youngest of the pack in Vampire lifespan. An infant most likely XD.

Very, very intelligent and can transform into a bat if he chooses too. However, his eyesight is poor due to an attack from someone finding out his identity, so he now has to wear glasses and be very cautious as to who sees him in his true nature.

He can’t eat anything but suck blood and it becomes a very concerning for the teachers upon seeing him eat nothing at lunch. The good news is that he can drink goat’s blood, the bad news is that he looks demonic when it comes to sucking the life out of a poor goat. He hates himself of how he has to live like this, but life is life and he wishes it so bad he can be  a normal kid. 

He’s very blessed to have friends like Miko and Jack who encourage him and make him feel better about himself. They share each other flaws and try to solve their problems, as well as dreaming to be normal teenagers.

All three of them wishes to have a sense of normalcy in their mythical lives, but they were lucky they met and had things in common. Soon enough, another group of unique creatures came upon earth and they start to realize that...maybe they’re not alone after all. Unfortunately, they are still too afraid to reveal their true identities to these strangers, so they stay low and act like normal people, which is very easy because the Autobots have no clue on how organics act.

With them, they feel like normal people. Not because they were different like them, but because the Autobots understood what its like to be different. They shard something common, even if the Autobots don’t know  Miko, Jack or Raf’s true selves. 

But I mean...eventually The Autobots  will find out.

[queenoftheworldisdead]

Gaslight Chapter 1

Summary: Reader has issues with their mother and seeks therapy. Loki is the reader’s therapist. He gaslights the read to break the reader down. Warning: Slow burn, and i mean slooooooow, manipulation, mind games

Note: Thank you so much @dreamslikeaheartbeat​ for making the mood board! It’s so beautiful.

Dark Loki x reader, evil, diabolical characters

You had never been to therapy before, in your family there had always been a stigma around it. So when you finally set out to make an appointment you were a bit apprehensive. When you settled on a doctor you googled their location. You were delighted when you saw that their office was a cute little house instead of an office building. The house seemed so warm and inviting that it eased you a bit so you booked a session.

Arriving 20 minutes early you parked your car in front of the pastel cottage. There were rose bushes and you could swear you had never seen a yard so green. Opening the short metal gate, walking through it, it clanked quietly as it closed behind you. Walking the path to the porch you hesitated at the door. Debating with yourself if you should just walk in or knock. Biting your bottom lip you decided on the latter.

Knock Knock

You could hear a voice telling you to enter. Opening the door you were greeted by an older woman. On her desk you saw a name placard that read Frigga. The foyer felt like you fell into a West Anderson movie. There were vivid colors accented everywhere, the walls papered with floral wallpaper. You introduced yourself and let her know you were a first time patient here for your appointment. She smiled warmly and asked for your insurance card and ID. Handing them over she gave you a few documents to fill out. You took them and sat on one of the chairs lined against the wall. Sitting back a bit nervous still you set to completing the forms.

As you wrote she made a call notifying the doctor of your arrival. When you finished you handed her the documents back and she told you to go right in to the door off to her right.

You were about to knock when Mrs. Frigga stopped you and told you to walk in. You took a deep breath, twisted the door knob and opened it. This room was not as brightly colored or lit as the reception. Even the air seemed cooler sending a slight shiver throughout your body.

"Hello?" You call out softly.

Looking around the room you spotted the doctor scribbling away at a desk in the corner. Walking over still a bit nervous. Her body hunched over her desk, her long black hair dusting over   the papers she wrote upon.

With the deep forest green curtains drawn it was hard to make out her features.

"Miss Laufeyson? Excuse me, sorry I'm here for my appointment"

Her head lifted slightly, turning her gaze from the papers it wrote upon to look at you. Your stomach sank as your eyes widened in shock.

She was a he, a handsomely striking he. You didn't have any particular issues with men. You just thought that a woman could relate more to you.

You could feel your face burn under his gaze. His allure was palpable it almost felt hypnotizing so much so you had to look away to the floor.

"I'm sorry I'm looking for Mrs. or Miss Laufeyson" you fidgeted with the strap of the purse on your shoulder as you spoke. He looked at you almost amused, then laughed softly pushing up his black framed glasses that had fallen down the bridge of his nose.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know of any Mrs or Miss Laufeyson aside for my mother. And I'm afraid in that case she has long since remarried. I'm Doctor Laufeyson." His rich sultry accent did little to quail the pounding of your heart and the sight of his face only worsened it. 

"Oh no... I've must've made a mistake. I'm sorry. I thought I scheduled an appointment with um... a woman doctor." You said as you fidget again with the strap.

"Would you like to cancel this appointment then?" At his suggestion your head shot up. Obviously he understood your simple mistake you thought. Keeping eye contact was hard though. The longer you looked at him the harder it was to keep his gaze. He was a breath taking sight so you found comfort at turning your eyes away to the floor.

"Yes sorry" it almost came out as a whisper.

"We have a 24 hour cancellation policy. If you cancel now I must inform you that you will be charged a cancellation fee on top of your co-pay"

"But it was a mistake." Your voice almost shrieking.

"Look....stay for this session and at the end I will give you a few recommendations to other 'Female' doctors in your network. How does that sound?" He offered.

Contemplating you thought about it. You could just sit and talk for a while of nothing important. No harm in that right and at least you would be sure to be given the information for a woman doctor.

"OK" you resigned.

"Alright then. Please take a seat where ever you like"

Looking around the room again you noticed a stag's head. The poor creature mounted above the fireplace, its antlers so large and wide that it seemed impossible that it came from such a small creature. The stained wood floors and wall washed the room with dark tones. The cobblestone fireplace unlit, surely due to the season, but you could still pick up the light sent of burnt kindling.

In front of it sat a circle of chairs with matching upholstery. Two arm chairs and a couch. Colored in a light cognac, circling a small glass coffee table held-up by blackened tree trunk.

The couch was the most appealing so you made your way to it. There was a comfortable distance between it and the other chairs that surrounded the table.

As you sat he began straightening a pile of papers on his desk. When he finished he stood and walked over with a yellow notepad and pen.

He rolled up his sleeves as he approached the arm chair opposite you. His forest green tie tucked meticulously into his waistcoat that cinched at his waist. His lean figure made you regret all the broken promises you made to yourself about going to the gym or dieting. The whole look coupled with his black framed glasses gave him the look of a tenured professor.

Compared to him you felt under dressed for the occasion. You could almost hear your mother nagging about your appearance. Making you doubt your dress and demeanor.

"Would you like a cup of tea? Water? Coffee?" Dr.Laufeyson asked. He chose the arm chair closest to his desk and sat. Crossing his tailored slacks he placed the notepad in his lap.

"Oh no no thank you" replying sheepishly.

He bit the end of the pen as he considered you for a moment than began to write again. You sat anxiously waiting for him to instruct you on what to do.

But he didn't, the minutes ticked away and he just wrote paying you no mind.

"Um.... I don't know what to do here?" After some internal debating you finally spoke.

He didn't look up he just kept writing.

"Um excuse me Mr.Laufeyson" you shouted a little louder than you attended.

"Dr. Laufeyson" he didn't look up as he corrected you.

"I'm sorry it just that I thought"

"Hmmmm?" Lifting his gaze from his notepad to finally look at you.

"Dr. Laufeyson. I thought you were supposed to ask me questions or something. Like do you ever have dreams about going on dates with guys but when they turn around they have the head of my mother?" You rambled.

He cocked his brow." Are you having dreams like that?"

"Sorry, No! No no no! It was a bad Freudian joke" You covered your face with your hand in embarrassment.

Great now he is going to think you have an Oedipus complex? Why do you even try and speak? Ugh.

He was writing again you could hear his pen scribble on the pad. You didn't feel good about it.

Tilting his head back straightening his posture. His eyes took you in. You could feel his examining gaze.

Was he diagnosing you?

"It's OK to be nervous and that's not the worst Freudian joke I've ever heard by the way" you could hear his slight chuckle. "Think of this as a get to know you session. You can't fail at this or get this wrong I'm here to help you."

He asked you many questions. Some about your likes, what you did for work, how you liked it, about your family. You answered and the conversation flowed. You had never had someone take genuine interest in you before, but that was his job right? To try to listen. It was just all so new to you.

Your session went over the allotted time. Then finally after an hour overtime he stopped the session. You apologized, but he only smiled and reassured you that's what he is here for.

By the end he gave you the information to an actual female doctor by the name of Odinson. A part of you wanted to continue with him, but another part of you still wanted a woman's touch.

After your appointment with Dr. Laufeyson you made the appointment with Dr. Odinson. Over the phone you had confirmed with the receptionist that Dr. Odinson was indeed a woman. To which you were relieved. Your appointment with her being the following Monday.

Dr. Odinson's office was less wholesome than Dr. Laufeyson's. It was located in an office building. Mirrored glass encased the exterior, it looked so sleek, cold yet new. Walking from the parking garage to the main building you were intimidated by the massive structure. Once inside you took a deep breath and made your way to the security desk. After choking up the nerve to ask for directions he pointed to the elevator and the floor.

Unlike Mrs. Frigga he made you feel as if your presence was a nuisance.

The soft elevator music did little to loll your nerves as you rode it up. You were having second thoughts, maybe you should've stuck with Dr. Laufeyson. The session wasn't bad at all and at least his office felt like a home that made you feel invited and it was so wholesome. When the elevator finally arrived on the floor you were still nervous. Despite the luxurious feel of the floor you felt even more out of place. This only stoked the fire of your anxiety and inferiority complex.

The receptionist at Dr. Odinson's office was young and beautiful. Surely if she didn't work here you would find her on Instagram laying out on some island that you could never pronounce or afford.

When you reached her desk she was unaware of your presence. A common theme of those whose beauty you could only dream to attain. Staring at her computer screen she yelped when she finally noticed you.

"Oh I am so sorry!" You apologized. " I didn't mean to I..um have an appointment with Dr. Odinson"

She was startled but collected herself and smiled up at you. "It's OK. You must be Y/N, we tried to contact you."

You knitted your brow and tilted your head.

"Dr. Odinson had to cancel your appointment today. She had a family emergency and had to leave abruptly."

"Don't worry we won't charge you for the inconvenience" she smiled up at you.

You were relieved that you wouldn't have to pay for not paying attention to your cell phone.

"Since you're here would you like to reschedule?" She inquired.

"Oh Um....... I need to check my schedule. Is that OK?" rubbing the back of your head as you thought about the question.

"Sure thing just call me and I will get you rescheduled right away." She smiled at you brightly, but something about it almost felt robotic. You mirrored her forcing a smile before turning to the elevators to retreat. Walking back down the hall to the elevator as you wait for the doors to open you felt anxious. Tapping your feet you thought something with this place didn't sit right with you. You preferred the small sweet home of Dr. Laufeyson.

When the doors opened you were surprise by the size of the giant inside the metal box. You scurried inside apologizing to him as you looked at the number pad to press the lobby button, but it was already highlighted. The mirrored walls of the elevator allowed you to steel glances at him through your lashes. At a glance you could see his eyes were red and looked irritated, but his stoic face would not betray him. His hands shoved in his pockets he stood in the back of the elevator. Through his uniform you could make out the perfectly sculpted physique. He adorned black scrubs with an insignia you couldn't make out from your distance, his golden hair tied his a high bun. The sheer sight of it had you biting your bottom lip. You had only seen men like him on tv or Instagram.

In your corner you felt a nagging, a nosiness to ask what was wrong, ask if he was OK. There was a part of you that felt bad for even interrupting his descent, surely he wanted to be alone.

Why didn't I wait for the next elevator?

Your self hatred was mixing with your need to nurture and fix things. Finally the overwhelming urge to comfort him won out and you spoke.

"Um I'm sorry are you OK?" Looking at him through the mirrored walls you ask. As the words slipped out you mentally started to beat yourself up.

You immediately regretted your actions. You should've stayed silent. You don't know him why did you even care.

"I'm fine my lady" the deep intonation of his voice hit your ears like honey.

My lady? What is this?

In less than two weeks it felt like you landed in a foreign land filled with accents that you only dreamt of.

"I'm so sorry its just.... You look so sad and I'm so sorry." You frantically try to apologize for sticking your nose in where it didn't belong.

His deep chuckle filled the space between your frantic apologies. Covering his mouth to hide a smile he tried to compose himself before the elevator announced the lobby floor.

When the doors opened you managed to shut your mouth. Regret and disdain filled you. He motioned for you to leave first and without another word you two departed. Since you figured he was going to the parking garage you went the opposite direction. Going to the lobby restroom to hide out for thirty minutes until he had gone completely from the area.

You felt stupid for even talking to him for bothering him. You always felt weird talking to people. You always had that nagging feeling that people hated you when you opened your mouth, breathed their air or shared a spaced anyone.

That was one of the reasons you wanted to go to therapy. To understand yourself. To stop feeling this way.

Pulling out your phone as you waited in the stall you called Dr. Laufeyson. You didn't want to come back here. To risk running into him again.

*Ring

It felt like the phone barely got off the first ring before someone answered.

"Hello Dr. Laufeyson's office how may I be of assistance" it wasn't Mrs. Frigga.

"Um.. Sorry." You were expecting Mrs. Frigga.

Who was this person?

"Sorry" you apologize again " I.. wanted to make an appointment with Dr. Laufeyson.

"Miss Y/N?"

How did this person know your name?

"What huh?" you were still caught off guard.

"Mrs. Frigga is out today so I have the double duty of answering my own calls." The voice laughed. It was Dr. Laufeyson.

"Oh. Oh OK. Sorry" you said frazzled.

"You don't have to apologize. Where you calling to make another appointment?" There was a pause "Did things not work out with Dr.  Odinson"

"She wasn't available for our appointment. Something came up"

"Well I'm sure you can reschedule" he assured you.

"I just don't like it here. May I book another session with you?....Please?" Your voice went soft again unsure if you should've even asked.

You had rejected him as a doctor why would he want to see you again?

"Are you sure" he asked coolly.

"Yes please"

And with that he scheduled your next appointment for the next week.

[s-s-s-s-t-a-r-s]

Could you do all the soft hcs for Leon? uwu

What they smell like: I imagine his signature scent would change with his version/age, so I will give you a few variations. 

Rookie Leon would smell bright, like freshly washed denim and Irish Spring soap, maybe a dash of cologne if he is looking to impress.

A more seasoned and experienced Leon would have an earthy, slightly sweet scent. Like well-worn leather and honeyed whiskey. The amount of cologne he wears would increase with age, but the quality of that cologne would not.

What their favorite smells in the world are: He would like rich and heavy scents, like spice, wood, or musk. Cedarwood, vanilla, and vetiver, too. I also think he’s the type of man who would find himself drawn to sweet scents, especially when they are on a woman.

What pajamas they wear/what they wear to sleep: I am stealing this answer from @dot-writes, but heather-gray sweatpants. Maybe funny decorative boxers.

My favorite ship and a cute hc about them: I really love Cleon (Claire x Leon). I like to imagine that Claire would steal and collect all his leather jackets when they spend the night together after a shared mission. He would wake up in the morning and try to sneak out, but he would have to frantically search for his missing coat. He would eventually leave without it—Claire is a master thief—but text her that day like, “what did you do with my jacket” and she would respond “what is a jacket? :)”

My favorite friendship and a cute hc about them: Jill and Leon. I know they never interacted in game, but I think she would adore him. I like to picture an AU where there were no zombies. Leon would join RPD and Jill would still be S.T.A.R.S. She eventually hears about all the good he is trying to do and teams up with him to eliminate the corruption on the force. Once they’re finished, she would nominate him for a position in S.T.A.R.S as well.

A song that reminds me of them: “Can’t You See?” by the Marshall Tucker Band. It’s a classic rock favorite about a woman who just won’t leave a guy’s brain, like Ada won’t leave Leon’s.

What animal I think they would be: I see a husky with blue eyes. They’re stubborn as hell, but also very sweet and loyal when they want to be.

What position they sleep in: He sleeps face down, drooling on his pillow—unless he’s with a partner. He prefers to be the little spoon, no I do not accept criticism.

Their favorite drink: He would appreciate a good aged cognac. Maybe a diet soda, to keep his figure.

A gift I would give them: I’d give him some goddamn common sense, baby!

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

I'm reading the beginning of Yevgeniy Zelentsov's History of the Rich (published in the US as The Only Ten Things You Need to Know About Money)

He says that money is just a claim on scarce resources, and that, just like with land, the amount of money you have is your claim on the "use value" of those resources, which you can get a sense of by figuring out how much other people want to trade with you for your stuff. Here's an example of how this works out: imagine you live in an island with only one person. Your stuff is valuable to them, but no one else does. They live on a diet of fish, oranges, bread, and beer. You, on the other hand, are rich beyond your wildest dreams, with a fridge full of steak and pork ribs and a beer in one hand and a cognac in the other.

If your stuff is worth something, then someone will want to trade with you for it. Your neighbor, or your boss at the factory next door, wants to borrow a few dollars so he can pay his bill and also buy some shrimp. So you sell your Cognac to him for $1000, and he pays you back $500. He then sells the money to his friend, who in turn puts it to some productive use–let's say building a factory–and gets another $1000 back. The whole transaction, including your trades, is finished in an afternoon. Now your neighbor is $4000 in the red, and you are $10K in the black.

The interesting part about this is that there is no magic "claim" involved. Everything you did was voluntary. You didn't take anyone's stuff against their will; you did it out of love for the things. You didn't "steal" the money from them; it just happened to fall into your lap.

I've always had a problem with this idea that there is some kind of "right" to things that is created out of nothing and has a mind of its own. It seems more like an attempt to bypass the concept of voluntary exchange. If there is anything worth having, it is only because someone gave it to you. It would be ridiculous to say that a rich man could not be willing to give the money it's his fortune to the poor, because then the poor would have no choice but to withhold what they have.

I know that this is quite radical, and that some people on tumblr consider themselves somewhat radical. This is why I've always preferred a subtler kind of phrasing to the "claim"/"deed" framing.

[barb-aricyawp]

Hey, no pressure but if you feel like it, how about 'that doesn't scare me' and 'let's play a game' for Will and Hannibal? It just seems like it would fit... Always a pleasure to read whatever you write, but take it easy! -S

I’ll always make your prompts a priority! 

trigger warnings in the tags…I went all out, so please mind them.

“You seem bored, Will.”

“Do I?” Graham rolls his tongue around his aching mouth and spits out a molar. It narrowly avoids Lecter’s cognac leather shoes. “Can’t imagine why.”

Side-stepping the lost tooth, Lecter hums. “I know you miss your work, Will. So, I brought it to you.”

Graham lifts his head in shock. There’s a woman in the room with them now, a thin waif of a girl, and Graham recognizes her instantly. This is Georgia Madchen, the woman who accidentally killed her best friend. Graham thought she was dead.

But Lecter is like the dog that keeps dragging dead things in from the yard.

Like Graham, Georgia is bound to a wooden chair. Unlike Graham, her eyes are wide with terror and confusion. She looks around the room in a panic, taking in Lecter’s table of tools. The thick curtains covering the windows. The plastic wrap covering the floor. And, of course, Graham himself.

The reason Lecter brought her here.

When they meet eyes, Georgia strains against the ropes binding her to the chair. In a hoarse whisper, she asks him, “Am I dead?”

Graham closes his eyes. He sees a doe in the woods, following the trail of food straight to the hunter in the brush. How the shot will cleave through the cavern where her heart is. How the crack of the rifle will sound after the bullet kills her. How she will be dead without knowing she’s been hunted.

And how Georgia is nothing like that doe.

“No,” Graham says, flinching. The movement stings the laceration over his brow, the one that cuts down towards his the inner corner of his eye. “Not yet.”

Lecter claps his hands congenially, drawing their attention towards him again. “Let’s play a game.”

He tracks Lecter’s movement towards the table. Lecter plucks up his favorite scalpel. A curved blade with an unsharpened back edge, large and good for abdominal incisions. 

“That doesn’t frighten me anymore.” Graham snorts at the sight of it. Crusted dried blood from his broken nose breaks off from the exhalation. It flutters to his collarbone where Lecter brushes it off for him.

“It’s not for you,” he says lightly. “And you haven’t allowed me to explain the rules, Will.”

Lecter smiles at Graham then, as if they are exchanging a pleasant secret amongst friends. They once shared looks like this one. The familiarity warms Graham, and that makes his stomach churn.

“I will ask you a question. If you lie or refuse to answer, I take something from Ms. Madchen.”

Graham’s eyes flicker to Georgia, to the bewildered fear radiating off her. She must be terrified; her disorder doesn’t allow her to recognize faces, she has no idea who holds her captive or why. When Graham looks to her, she asks again, “Am I dead?” and he ignores her. He has to.

Lecter is already unbuttoning her shirt to expose her pale belly. The muscles and fat there tremble.

There’s no way for Graham to win this game. Otherwise, Lecter wouldn’t play.

“Let’s begin. Will, when you were a child, what were afraid of?”

“The dark,” Graham says. 

Lecter clicks his tongue, shaking his head as if disappointed with a young student. “A half truth. So, I won’t take anything just yet.” He slices the scalpel upward, from her navel to her ribs.

Georgia’s mouth gapes in shock, not quite recognizing the pain. Graham clenches his fists so tightly his nails break open crescents in his palm.

“What do you mean a half truth? I was afraid of the dark, most young children are.”

“You weren’t afraid of the dark, Will. You were afraid of what’s in the dark.”

“Bullshit–”

“Next question.” Lecter moves through the game brusquely, perhaps recognizing that Georgia won’t survive longer than a few hours. “Were you closer to your mother or your father?”

Fixing boats in the dock. The weight at the foot of his bed after a nightmare. “My father.”

Lecter smiles. “I believe that. Most sons of your generation are closer to their mothers. Why weren’t you?”

Graham hesitates. This is how he’ll lose the game–with questions he doesn’t know the answer to. “She wasn’t around as much. We had less in common.”

It’s the wrong answer and he knows it. Lecter sinks his hand into Georgia’s stomach, squelching through organs until he slices one loose. She’s screaming now, asking questions and begging, and Graham knows that must annoy Lecter. All that noise.

Out comes a long, flat organ. “The pancreas,” Lecter says, showing Graham. “I am very partial to sweetbread. Especially with a Burgundy Chardonnay. Would you like to try some tonight? I could cook for you, Will.”

For weeks, Graham has subsisted on a scarce diet of bread and water. He is ravenous. 

“No,” he spits. “I wouldn’t.”

Lecter smiles at him and sinks his hand back inside Georgia. Her intestines curl around his forearms, and Graham is momentarily mesmerized by the drape of them over Lecter’s wrists. Elegant, somehow. Despite the blood.

When he draws out another organ for Graham to see, Georgia’s head has lolled back. Passed out from shock.

“Seems we’ll have to cut the game short,” Lecter says, observing her prone form. He gathers what he’s carved from Georgia’s body. “All for the best anyway; I should start preparing dinner now.”

[xathia-89]

Bar Kasugayama

Dedicated to @colivara for her donation to me last week. 

SHINGEN SMUT WARNING.

Yukimura sighed as he finished cleaning the glass he had to hand; it was unusual for his boss to still be on site this late which made him suspicious. Kenshin had shown up for work as the bouncer like usual on the Friday night while the crowds were starting to trickle in from clocking out time, eager to grab something to wet their throats and start the weekend. The icy man was intimidating to a fault, but he also seemed to attract enough female attention for some of them to try and flirt their ways past the queue, or into the VIP sections. Yuki had already read his texts, and he knew that Sasuke wasn’t going to be there for a couple of hours to give the crowds a chance to get the drinks flowing before he started with the heavy dance hits.

Then Shingen came downstairs. He had changed his clothes and seemed to mix in with the clubbers now since he was in a shirt and jeans.

“Who’s the unlucky girl?” Yuki snorted, knowing that the boss liked the way he served drinks better than the two underlings who were dealing with gaggles of flirting girls.

“It’s Natsuki actually,” he replied. “She’s on her way now she’s changed out of her work clothes apparently,” he was casually leaning against the bar. The man just attracted attention and oozed charisma as the groups of leeches turned their sights on him. Yuki poured out the special bottle of cognac that was kept solely for Shingen and then began the hunt for Natsuki’s chosen poison. “Make sure she doesn’t get charged for her drinks as well; I know that Takemoto and Saiki haven’t met her yet, and it’s been more than a little while since she was here with Seno.”

“Must be a rough occasion if you don’t want her charged. Normally you only offer discounts,” Yuki frowned.

Shingen’s attention was stolen as the sound of complaints filtered in. Kenshin had opened the door after a brief chat with her, and Natsuki glided in. Shingen knew that Kenshin would have to deal with complaints about how come she got to skip the queue to get in, but he was a professional. Yuki let out a low whistle as she found the two men staring at her and headed straight to them. She was dressed to kill for certain, and the two couldn’t resist their stares before Natsuki was within reach. Shingen swooped her into his arms and kissed her on the cheek affectionately, briefly overhearing from Saiki about this being his latest arm candy before Yuki was pouring the drinks out as they liked. Shingen with an ice cube in his cognac, and Natsuki with diet soda, three ice cubes and a double shot of cherry flavoured brandy.

He only had eyes for her as Yuki made sure the two liquor bottles were within reach of the couple. He was bored of eavesdropping by accident on them, especially since Natsuki was such a commonplace feature in the bar when she was between relationships or the tax year was at an end.

“Do you want to talk about it then?” Shingen asked, noticing that she was necking the drinks without much effort while he was nursing the cognac.

“Turns out, the reason he could only see me at certain days and hours was because he’s married, with kids,” Natsuki explained, refusing to meet her friend’s gaze as she focused on the empty glass. “I was just the exciting bit on the side. His wife got hold of my number; I was a name she didn’t recognise that popped up on his phone while he was in the shower. So she gave me a call to let me know because she read the text history, and it was clear from that that he was just lying his ass off about why he couldn’t meet all the time. She was pretty cool about it really and said she had nothing against me. I didn’t come in with the intention of home wrecking,” she shrugged and sighed before Shingen let himself behind the bar to refill her drinks. “Shame he was so damn good in bed.”

Something seemed to click in the head of the bar owner, he let Natsuki finish her drink in silence, and then smiled at her.

“I don’t trust you when you smile like that,” she narrowed her eyes at him and leaned back a little after he extended his hand to her.

“Let’s dance, Sasuke is going to breeze in soon, and you’ll be so absorbed in the music you won’t be thinking of him,” Shingen was giving her that smile. The one she wasn’t immune to, it reached his eyes and warmed them and teased that he would resort to pouting if he didn’t get his way.

“I will not hesitate to slap you if I don’t like where your hands go,” Natsuki grumbled, taking the offered hand.

Yuki signalled for Kenshin to move inside, with the facade of needing to start looking after the VIP areas. The bouncer and bartender were staring at the scene before them as the DJ arrived, muttering apologies before the two men gestured for him to look at the couple.

Natsuki slotted into Shingen like they were made for each other. The alcohol was doing its job, she was loosened up and letting herself sway with the music, and it wasn’t something that any of them had seen despite knowing the friendship from when the two had been kids. The obvious was staring back at the three of them before Sasuke immediately headed for the DJ booth, eager to try and add fuel to the fire that had been started.

“I wondered why he wasn’t flirting with all the girls,” Yuki muttered as Natsuki’s arm was flung over Shingen’s shoulder as they were grinding with the beat.

“He’s going to be disgusting with her,” Kenshin scoffed softly, but stayed instead, feigning the need to start the VIP area parade.

“I need another drink,” Natsuki laughed as the two pushed their way out of the dance floor crowd. Sasuke always drew people in with his music; the man had an innate knowledge to know what was popular and what worked and applied it to a range of available songs which was hugely admirable as the couple found their way to the end of the bar.

A couple of customers began shouting as Shingen went behind the bar and began pouring their drinks out until Kenshin said throwing his boss out wasn’t a great idea. Shingen just smiled and said that his staff were busy and he didn’t want to add to it when he could sort himself out.

Natsuki had her elbows propped up on the end of the bar, and the way her eyes were lighting up at the sight of her brandy tugged sharply on Shingen’s heart. He had been lying to himself so long about her, and when she asked him out tonight for drinking, he had an inkling that her latest relationship had been yet another failure.

“You look gorgeous tonight,” Shingen couldn’t help himself, taking the time to appreciate the effort that Natsuki had put in fully.

“I wanted to remind myself that it’s his fault and not mine,” she shrugged, avoiding the heated gaze of the man.

Shingen paused before pulling Natsuki flush against him, his lips claiming hers passionately, swallowing the initial sounds of surprise and then the moans.

“I am going to fuck you so hard that you forget you ever met that asshole,” he growled down her ear, refusing to let her go as he spotted the doorway to the office upstairs.

His intentions might have been to not bring the club down in public, but Natsuki was as much of a tease as he was. Her teeth were grazing at his neck the second he stopped kissing her, and it was getting harder to focus. He pinned her to the side of the oversized speakers, Sasuke making sure to time the music to cover up any noise made by Natsuki as he left a hickey in the crook of her neck before the two managed to get through the doorway and off the club floor finally.

Yuki was sharing a secret coded look with Kenshin at the display that had just occurred. They were both dreaming, that was the only explanation for the way the two had merely acted in public as they resumed their jobs.

“Shingen,” Natsuki moaned, her head rolling back against the wall as the man attacked her neck with bites. She was palming his jeans like the little tease she wanted to be, the heated look in her eyes was too much as Shingen finally made his way back to her mouth to kiss her again.

“I thought I could hold on to get you upstairs,” his voice was unsteady for once, losing his cool in the moment as Natsuki returned the favour on leaving a love bite in the crook of his neck. The way her tongue was teasing him as she was sucking hard on his skin, it was too much to handle. This was staff only and meant that their chances of being caught were slim at worst anyway as he couldn’t wait to kiss her again.

He hoisted her up sharply against the wall as their tongues were busy, tugging on his jeans to just pull them down enough to free his aching cock from the denim strain before quickly shoving two of his fingers into her cunt. His groan was swallowed up by the woman; she was soaking and ready for him as he couldn’t wait any longer. He couldn’t even wait to remove her panties, not that they were doing much good as he pulled the material to the side. He usually would be for all the teasing possible, but right now there was a fire only Natsuki had the ability to put out.

The music was still thumping as the club was getting busier. Everyone was looking to lose themselves in the music and alcohol as Shingen thrust his entire length into her waiting pussy. Her gasp was quickly lost to the groans, locking her legs around his hips and hanging onto his shoulders for dear life. She could feel him thrusting hard, his fingers digging into her hips before she could feel the need in her beginning to spiral out of control.

Natsuki’s back arched off the cool wall as she dared to remove a hand from him, their furiously passionate kiss muting many of the noises the two were making and then her featherlite touches to her clit. She was so close as Shingen was struggling to keep pace. Her fingers pinched on her exposed nub, forcing her orgasm to wreck her body. Her nails were digging in through the material of his shirt, and it was too much for him to hold off at the triggering spasming of her cunt. The music suddenly changed in the background to something a lot louder and with a thumping bass line as the couple began to come down from their high.

Natsuki was feeling too embarrassed to look her friend in the face and instead chose to bury her head into his shoulder much to his amusement.

Shingen was gentle in his movements and tucked himself away swiftly.

“Where are you going?” He asked softly, barely audible over the music from the other room as the woman shifted towards the doors. The way she froze like a deer in the headlights was adorable before his arms slipped around her waist from behind and he nuzzled in her neck, enjoying her perfume mixed with the smells of sex. “We were going up to my office.”

“We didn’t make it to your office,” Natsuki paused, clearly unsure about the situation as she looked towards the doors to hide the blush on her face from the male.

“Exactly, so we should go,” a sharp intake of breath made the male smile, he had said it in a purposefully seductive tone. Shingen never realised how addictive a woman could be until then. He didn’t want to let anyone else see her or have her, and his office was the only place right now that he could take her that met those requirements. “You can clean up in the private bathroom there if you wish,” he murmured into her ear before smiling as he felt her muscles relax.

“Only if you let me in there first,” her pout was adorable, and it made his heart melt. He wouldn’t let her have her hand back as the two made it up to the stairs. Shingen loitered and faffed around to get the key in the lock, teasing her constantly with a finger tracing over the shell of her ear and down her neck before she lost her control and pushed the lock to get in.

He was chuckling to himself as she rushed to the bathroom. He recalled the feeling of needing to clean up, and that many girls had reacted in similar fashions previously after sex. He dropped onto the sofa, glad for the change of scenery and the privacy as he rubbed the back of his neck. His muscles would be a little stiff in the morning most likely after that escapade, but he would do it all over again to hear Natsuki make those noises.

Shingen let his head roll back, feeling the stress of the day begin to melt away from his body before the door to the bathroom opened. He was prepared to make a joke about her using the shower in it, only to see that she just had. Her hair was damp, it had been towel dried to the best she could manage, but it was the way she wore his spare shirt that had captured his tongue at that point.

The blush on her cheeks was endearing to the bar owner, and he had no idea how the hell he had been so oblivious to how perfect she was before this moment. The second he could touch her, Natsuki was laughing because Shingen had gotten too impatient to have her again. His lips were soft against hers as she was straddling his lap, there was nothing of the rush this time as he wanted to find out everything about her. His hands trailed to follow the dip of her back, and then the curve of her backside leading to her muscular thighs, she was shivering under his touch, and her kisses were getting more desperate the more he didn’t give her what she wanted. Her hips were grinding against his jeans, and then her hand slid down his chiseled torso to his belt.

He chuckled, tilting his head back to breathe but Natsuki was having none of it by appearances as she immediately began to suck and nip at his offered neck. He couldn’t stop groaning and realised that the woman had already freed his cock from his jeans and boxers before he could stop to tease her more.

“Mm, relax,” he purred down her ear, wrapping a hand around his hardening member and starting to stroke the shaft. “We don’t need to rush.”

“You’re teasing,” Shingen couldn’t resist kissing the pout off her face, something Natsuki had anticipated as the next thing the male felt was her warm and wet cunt sinking down his shaft. “But as easy to read as ever,” her smile was wicked, and Takeda felt his heart lurch at the sight.

He kept her hips steady, not wanting to pound her relentlessly out of need but instead making her cum over and over was his target for now. He lazily flicked open the buttons on his shirt, before cupping one of her breasts like a work of art. He massaged her chest, and greedily deepened the kiss as he felt her pussy begin to tighten. This was just the first one as he tapped her fingers off her clit, chuckling at her complaint before she was swimming in pleasure. It was taking every effort for him to stave himself off; he was going to show Natsuki how things really should be as her body was shivering with delight.

Shingen couldn’t resist suckling on her offered chest. The way that Natsuki was wreathing about against his cock was magical, he wasn’t letting up from his fingers ministrations, and she was quickly scaling back up for her second climax from the way her moans were hitching in her throat and the increased sloppiness of her bites and kisses. She looked too stunning to resist as her orgasm rampaged, and caught the man unable not to give her what she truly wanted.

He tugged sharply on her hair, pulling it backwards into his hand as he hammered his cock into her spasming cunt. Natsuki was barely finishing her second climax as her third was already arriving, her screams of pleasure triggering Shingen over the edge. He came hard, his whole body convulsing as the two refused to let go of each other.

Natsuki was snuggled up to his sweaty clothes, her exertion clear as she was dozing despite the thumping bass from downstairs.

“I’m not letting you sleep here,” Shingen laughed, picking the woman up and taking her back over to the private bathroom. “A quick shower and then home.”

“Who’s home?” Natsuki was tempting in disguise, her heavily lidded eyes making Shingen pause in his path.

“You are officially going to be the death of me,” Takeda murmured, brushing a kiss to her forehead. “I also believe we go to yours simply to get you some clothes for the weekend.”

“You do have the better bed,” she laughed, her nose brushing against his neck before the man could hurry off to finish his plan of attack.

[retagirardin76-blog]

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[easy-nites-angel]

Demencia Headcanons

Okay, so this bitch,

Jesus God Almighty,

Okay Here We Go

So bc Flug designed Dem to be an assassin, it would make sense that he would program a lot of superhuman characteristics to make her superior right?

So obviously that means he’s fixed her up to have like super strength/ agility/ healing capabilities/ coordination, rapid development of muscle mass, increased mobility, improved-to-superhuman-levels of the five senses, the like

But like w increased mobility that means she’s like mad flexible

Like she-likely-doesn’t-have-a-pelvis-anymore flexible

And honestly all I can picture is her doing the EXACT SAME SHIT Quensadilla on Vine can do with her entire body bc she deadass has no hip flexors probably

tbh like she 800% would do like the thing Quensadilla does in some of her Vines where she’s like “What is THAT in the corner of my room???” and the camera switches to her doing some highkey unnatural position on the wall but Dem would do it to Flug of course bc she loves annoying him

Honestly considering how clever Dem actually is she totally would be able to read the atmosphere and manipulate it w EASE bc well her work is literally,,, spywork so

But NO ONE would be able tell bc of how crazy she comes off but you see that’s the point!!

...Even tho she still highkey embodies that “but steel is heavier than feathers” meme

What if she had the ability to mimic ppl’s physical appearances?? Like using her camouflage to just imitate sme’s face and body?? I dunno man

Also she physically cannot give more than 1/64 of a shit abt what you think of her she is Not Afraid

Even so condescending ppl annoy the HELL out of her she hates them so much so if sme pulls anything like that on her they might die in her hands so,

“Suck my phat-ass dicc” jokes for days (which annoy the HELL out of Flug)

I like to think part of her natural diet consists of literal bugs (besides, like, human MEAT)

No like she has and frog tongue and she’ll just

* S C H L O R P *

She’ll just snatch food from Flug or harrass every single member of the household w it and it’s awful

One time she ate an entire roach on the floor in the mansion while Black Hat witnessed the whole thing and she tried to kiss him on the lips afterward

She just uses her tongue like how Jar Jar Binks does in that one scene in The Phantom Menace

She’s licked Flug before w it

Y’know what speaking of her diet she eats like a goddamn goat like her stomach’s probably made of titanium (literally? maybe. It’s more likely than you think)

Like Flug’s seen her eat glass w/o batting a single eye so—not to mention the failed experiments she’ll try to snack on from time to time when he’s not looking

Flug gets pissy when she cusses around 5.0.5 but whenever he tries to correct her she always answers w smth like “Shit, my b” intentionally or sometimes unintentionally

One of her other Wacky Characteristics would probs be her ridiculously high pain tolerance Flug programmed into her

But at this rate he can’t tell whether he went overkill w it or if she’s just plain fucking stupid

She can turn invisible!! Like a chameleon and it’s more creepy than it is cool bc of her personality

What do you mean she uses it to stalk Black Hat in his office?? Whaaaatttt???

Not that Black Hat has no idea tho he always lets her know at some point

Also I’m mentally unable to get over that classic heating rock HC of hers

Oh she knows she annoys the shit out of everyone including Black Hat but does she care??

Not in the fucking slightest

Bc of her sibling-like relationship w Flug, Black Hat can no longer discern whether he’s the boss and they are his employees or he’s just a mother hen constantly on their asses for doing stupid shit

“I love Hot Topic I buy all of my clothes from there”

Who wants to bet $10 that she was the one who wrote the My Immortal fic (and only $10 I’m broke af)

She started the Infamous 1D Fanfic Movement on Wattpad way back in 2010-2012

She probably has those prank AEO’s spray-on jeans that they publicized ironically that one time

Bruh she nasty as fuck too tho

This is not even a headcanon we all know it sisters

Dw we’re not gonna go over the shit she does to that BH puppet she made and what BH himself has walked in on her—

She’s literally got the Grinch’s taste in food; highkey would live like he does, too (in a cave in the middle of nowhere, lives off of scrap garbage to make anything she needs,,)

Her favorite physically harmless prank to do is to break into the fridge and grab an egg, crack it open, separate the whites from the yolk, then scream bloody murder for Flug’s name, watch him sprint into the kitchen in a frenzy expecting the worst on the verge of a panic attack bc she might’ve gotten BH’s attention too, and then walk up to him to calmly and quietly place the yolk into his hand and then just sprint away

Flug likes to pull those pranks on Tik Tok where sme fills up a glass of water and they get sme else to hold it in such a way where if they move they WILL spill it everywhere but like w Black Hat’s expensive Louis XIII cognac imported from France (as payment for the mental damage she causes him every hour)

She falls for it every single time

If she can bite a chunk of her ear off then she can kick the ceiling by accident

Don’t ask why or how she’s a cryptid for crying out loud

She’s the type of girlfriend who texts her pardner pics of her shit and how her most recent defecation went

[mariacallous]

I had reached the point of frustration and hunger where I needed to resolve it Now and I didn’t want to spend more money so:

Sliced some of the bread I bought (a regular soft loaf with cheese baked on) and schmeared it with some of the pâté I bought (duck liver with cognac I think) and a slice or two of the Kerrygold Dubliner cheese

And

Dumped some of the bagged salad (with carrots and cabbage) into a bowl, and mixed sour cream, mayo, Maggi seasoning, balsamic vinegar, sweet chili sauce, and some of that strawberry balsamic vinaigrette I still had to make a new dressing or sauce (kinda nice to whisk and beat frustration at the same time) before schlopping onto the salad. Add croutons (either Italian seasoning or garlic and herb can’t remember currently) and, using my vegetable peeler, shaved some of the kerrygold dubliner over it, then tossed my salad vigorously

So far I’m not displeased. I also realized that I’d let my Diet Coke just sit next to me ignored and I had to make amends.