#i feel like hes a pretty modest dude

[unexpectedbrickattack]

I just love the fact that flattery is the best way to get peppino to blush

Heehee

[loveinhawkins]

When Lucas Sinclair starts to apologise for missing The Cult of Vecna, Eddie initially thinks that he’s hearing things.

Well, actually, the first thing he thinks is something along the lines of ‘what the fuck are you talking about?’

It takes him almost a solid thirty seconds to even vaguely remember his campaign; the last day of school before Spring Break feels dreamlike, as if it happened to someone else, as if he just watched everything through a fogged-up window.

“Jesus, Sinclair. I’ve got an ongoing list of folks who owe me an apology since, like, sixth grade, and trust me, your name’s not on there. Can pretty confidently say it never will, okay?”

Eddie sees Steve tilt his head ever so slightly from where he’s walking just ahead of them, like he’s listening in. Spots his faint nod of approval.

Eddie can’t decide if he resents it or finds it endearing—kind of gets the ridiculous feeling that Steve’s vetting him on behalf of the kids.

“Okay,” Lucas says, and he’s smiling, but there’s a sort of sombreness to it, too. “Still, I should’ve—”

“Hey, hindsight’s twenty-twenty,” Eddie says, firmly cutting off whatever self-critical bullshit he was about to hear. He knocks his shoulder against Lucas’s, adds a dry, “Like, I would’ve been a dick about it no matter what.”

Lucas laughs, but it’s muted. Then he takes a deep breath, and Eddie suddenly realises that he must’ve been using the apology to get himself started, to work himself up to what he really wanted to say.

“I’m… I’m sorry about… about Jason and… I thought I’d thrown them all off the trail, but—”

“Oh, don’t—don’t worry about it, man,” Eddie says faintly.

There’s a flash of Jason in his mind’s eye, the savage twist of his lip as he ran into the lake; he thinks of Lucas lying to his face, the danger of him being found out, and feels sick.

“Seriously, you could’ve told them… y’know. Wouldn’t have held it against you.”

Eddie doesn’t mention that him getting caught still feels inevitable, like he’s just waiting for the walls to close in.

But right now, at least, he can breathe a little easier. The shire might be burning, but there’s people leading him through it. He’s not alone.

Lucas looks appalled. “What? No, I couldn’t—I couldn’t do that to you.”

It’s said with such conviction that Eddie has to fight through a sudden tightness in his throat—doesn’t really know what to do in the face of such undeserved loyalty.

He settles on saying, “So, how was the game?” which is embarrassingly inadequate, but a genuine question nevertheless; the past few… Jesus, however long it’s been, he’s been in permanent need of a distraction.

Steve slows his walking pace—to anyone else it might’ve seemed subtle, but Eddie’s used to noticing such things. He somehow gets the feeling that Steve is no longer scrutinising him, not exactly; his posture’s relaxed and open, his forehead free of frown lines.

It’s more like he’s simply curious about Eddie’s behaviour. The way his eyes drift over, then down to the forest floor, then back again silently seems to say what are you thinking?

Or maybe Eddie’s projecting because he asks the very same question whenever a muscle jumps in Steve’s jaw.

“Oh, um…” Lucas says hesitantly. “I was on the bench for most of it, so—”

“Quit being modest.” The quiet whir of a tape being rewound; Max Mayfield comes up to Lucas’s side. “He made the winning shot,” she tells Eddie pointedly. “It was a buzzer-beater.”

“Oh, holy shit. Well done, dude.”

From the way Lucas is staring at Max with wide eyes, it’s obvious that he’s barely registered what Eddie’s said.

“How do you know that?” he asks. “You… you weren’t at the game.”

“I, uh.” Max looks down for a moment, fiddling with the headphones around her neck. “I listened to it on the radio.”

Lucas smiles so brightly. There’s an earnestness to him; Eddie spotted it a mile away, ever since that first day back at school, when all the new freshmen were anxiously lining up to get lunch.

Max softens—her arms are still folded, but she drifts a little closer to Lucas as they walk, all studied casualness.

(Oh, Eddie’s been there before: forced to run track in middle school Phys Ed, and the only saving grace was ‘just so happening’ to run at the same pace as any boy who’d smile at him.)

Eddie catches Steve’s eye, and this time Steve gives him a very deliberate expression, nodding fondly at Max and Lucas.

Look at them, he’s saying with his eyes, as if he and Eddie are on the same team, as if Eddie at all deserves to be let in on whatever shared history Steve has with these kids.

Eddie kicks at a stray twig. You’re not going to get a lump in your throat about this, damn it, don’t be stupid.

“S’gonna be historic, Sinclair,” he says. “Last time the Tigers won a championship was, uh, lemme think… twenty-two years ago.”

Lucas stops in his tracks.

“I know that,” he says, eyes shrewd, “but why do you know?”

Eddie raises his hands with a grin, it wasn’t me, officer. “What, I can’t repeat a few years without retaining a little school knowledge?”

“Oh,” Lucas says, and it’s like Eddie can see him mentally replaying every cafeteria speech. He grins back. “So you’re a hypocrite.”

“Maybe,” Eddie says. He glances further afield, where Dustin is animatedly explaining something to Robin and Nancy. “I know you’re not gonna give me shit for it, though.”

“Huh, guess you don’t really know me,” Lucas says, and Max snorts.

Eddie smirks. “And it’s, like, doubly historic since the last person to score a buzzer-beater was—”

He cuts himself off, because Steve abruptly turns to him, like they’re in alliance, and draws a hand sharply across his neck.

But Lucas is already hooked. “What? Who was it?”

Eddie gives Steve a helpless shrug. Sorry, man.

“I’m looking right at him,” he says.

Lucas rounds on Steve. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because,” Steve says, flustered, “that was your thing, Lucas, I didn’t wanna be all…”

He trails off with a vague hand gesture, and Eddie thinks he somehow gets what he means—smiles at the thoughtfulness of it.

“That makes, like, no sense,” Lucas says vehemently. His eyes practically have stars in them. “Damn it, we shoulda got a photo.”

Steve laughs in surprise. “All right, noted.”

“I mean, Wheeler works for the school paper, right?” Eddie says. “They’ve probably got old issues. Hey, Sinclair, you could have, y’know, side-by-side photos. Yours and then…” He waves a hand at Steve. “Ancient history.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Ancient, sure.”

“Oh, Lucas,” Max says, batting her eyes excessively, “I’d frame a picture of you. Pray to it every night.”

Lucas blushes. “Shut up,” he says, elbowing her gently; Eddie thinks that it’s the first time he’s heard Max Mayfield laugh.

Steve’s watching over them again, and his eyes go pensive when Lucas mumbles something like, “I wouldn’t mind a frame.”

The expression Steve has is something Eddie’s only seen once before, and it was on Wayne’s face. Eddie had privately dubbed it the ‘found something for your birthday’ look when he’d noticed it: him and Wayne on a road trip, Eddie not so secretly mooning over the secondhand acoustic guitar in the shop window.

“Your picture should be bigger, Sinclair,” Steve says, sounding both teasing and sincere. “My shot didn’t win a Championship Game.” In an undertone, he adds, “As Brenda so helpfully reminded me.”

Oh, Eddie’s not letting that go.

“Do mine ears deceive me? Did you take a date to a high school basketball game?” Eddie cackles. “You sure know how to woo ‘em, Harrington.”

“Hey,” Steve says defensively, “she could only make that day. Told her I had non-negotiable plans: it was either the game or it was a bust.”

Huh, Eddie thinks, that’s actually… really sweet.

Lucas looks torn between being embarrassed or touched. “You didn’t need to do that, Steve.”

“Sure I did. C’mon, you thought I was gonna go to every match and then miss the Championship?” Steve’s eyebrows furrow. “Where was Erica, anyway?”

… Ah.

“Mea culpa,” Eddie says. “She was, uh, at Hellfire.”

Lucas scoffs. “It’s fine,” he says. “Last time she was at a game, she kept shouting that she loved my tactics.” He looks out into the middle distance. “I was on the bench the whole time.”

Steve chuckles. “Yeah, I missed her being there.” He’s sporting a smile that’s somehow the perfect balance of fond and mischievous; it, quite frankly, has no business looking as attractive as it does. “We had, um, alternative commentary for every game. That kid should have a radio show.” He comes closer, adds in another aside, “Would’ve made the date more bearable if she was there.”

Eddie stifles a laugh, has a moment of respectful silence for Brenda.

Max and Lucas cut in front, keep walking until they’re almost out of earshot; Eddie hears Lucas faintly say something that sounds like, “Was I totally tubular?”, soon drowned out by Max’s laughter.

There’s a short silence.

“Thanks, Eddie,” Steve says suddenly.

Eddie blinks at him, quickly turns his genuine confusion into a bit. “What for, Harrington? My devastating wit? Devilish good looks?”

Steve shakes his head. He smiles for a moment, in on the joke, but then he looks over at Lucas and Max again, and… there.

A muscle jumps in his jaw.

“It’s just… they’ve got a lot to carry, y’know? So…” He shrugs. “Thanks.”

It’s said so quietly, so without fanfare.

Eddie’s hit with the realisation between one footstep and the next: that he’s earned Steve Harrington’s trust.

It feels… weighty.

But Eddie doesn’t mind it; he doesn’t think it’s going to crush his ribs. If anything it feels like they’re sharing a load.

“Don’t gotta thank me for that, Harrington.”

Steve smiles, pushing back his hair; Eddie’s brought back to the moment he did the very same on the basketball court, just as the ball sunk through the net, and Eddie decided fuck it, wholeheartedly embracing his hypocrisy as he jumped up and down with the band kids.

I cheered so goddamn loud for you, Eddie thinks.

He doesn’t say it.

But he keeps walking next to Steve. Feels a little young, a little bit like he’s running track—checking his pace just so he could see a boy smile at him.

[stardewstardropthoughts]

How the bachelors are when you go down on them for the first time, MDNI pls

Harvey

He’s nervous literally all the time but now especially

Does not know what to do with his hands

Worried you won’t think he’s adequate enough

I feel like he’s probably a modest 6 inches, decent girth, definitely trims but doesn’t fully shave

Very sensitive balls, will cum quickly if you play with them while sucking his cock

Kinda fists the sheets unless you tell him it’s okay to grab your hair

Will involuntary buck his hips, tries to apologize immediately when you gag around him but gets cut off by a deep groan

Let’s you know when he’s gonna cum so that you can pull away if you want, you don’t.

Is surprised when you swallow, he thinks it’s hot but he only wants you to swallow if you want to

Alex

Mans excited

He dreams about this probably like three times a week

Dudes just horny 24/7 honestly so he was agreeing immediately and ready to whip it out when you suggested it

I think he’s probably a little big at like 8.5 inches and decently thick, probably a bit curved up too

He doesn’t usually shave but I think he would for at-least the first time you go down on him out of curtousy

Does not hold back his grunts and praise, makes sure you know your doing good

“Just like that baby” “don’t stop, yoba don’t stop please” “doing so good for me, just a little more, there you go”

Literally can’t shut up, hands in your hair guiding you just how he likes it

Wants to cum down your throat, will be absolutely thrilled if you let him

Wants to return the favor immediately

Shane

Equally nervous, hasn’t had someone go down on him in a long time

Showers and trims up a bit first so he can be fresh and clean for you

I think he’s about 7 inches and a bit skinnier then Harvey, curves to the right just slightly

Definitely has experience from his college days but he may be a bit rusty

Will guide you gently until he’s sure he can fuck your throat the way he wants

Doesn’t talk to much but makes little grunting sounds and a few praises every now and then

Established some safety guidelines first, tap his thigh three times if you need to stop

Likes it rough, a very gentle scrap of teeth is fine with him

“You can take the whole thing, it’s not that hard” “that’s a good little slut, just like that”

Makes sure your alright after since he can be pretty rough, has water and lozenges on standby for you

Tons of cuddles after and he will of course return the favor if you’ll let him

Sam

Eager boy

Not the most experienced but not a virgin either

Definitely not shaved or trimmed

Probably around 5 inches, decent girth and no curve, also uncut

He probably accidentally shoved his whole cock in your mouth because he was to eager

Definitely apologizes and feels a bit bad about it

Also does not know what to do with his hands, settles for resting them on his thighs

Moans unabashedly, literally could not keep quiet if he tried

He has a napkin on standby for you if you don’t swallow

Will pull you in for a hot and heavy kiss immediately after so he can taste himself on your tounge

Does not know what he’s doing when he returns the favor but he’s a quick and eager learner

Sebastian

Total virgin I just know it

He’s so nervous he thinks he might actually explode

Shaved bare because he was nervous you wouldn’t like hair

Will not last long at all and he’s very embarrassed by that but you assure him you don’t mind

He’s about 6.5 inches and thick, curved to the left

Very sensitive balls as well

He probably only lasts around five minutes but who can blame him

He’s never felt something so warm and wet and nice before

You swallow and he’s already at half mast again he thinks it’s so hot

Teach him how to pleasure you, he’ll learn quick, that muscle memory from video game controllers comes in very handy 😌

Elliot

He’s probably only had one or two previous partners before you

He’s definitely well trimmed, basically has no hair down there, likes to keep it well maintained

Probably around 7 inches and skinny, uncut and slightly curved down

Uses his hair tie to put your hair in a ponytail if it’s long enough

Likes to hold onto that so he can gently guide you

Is a very slow sensual type of lover, doesn’t want to go to rough because he doesn’t want to ever hurt you

Literally the only time you can get him to stop talking is when he’s inside you in some form

Definitely wants you to swallow his cum but won’t make you

Also pulls you into a passionate kiss after before returning the favor

He’s very skilled with his tounge if you know what I mean 😌

[goldfades]

🌱 with luke!! going to see him play for the first tim in person at his nhl games

𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | lh⁴³

♡ ─ word count | 585

♡ ─ warnings | luke being downbad for u, jack teasing you two (nothing too bad tho), just fluff!

♡ ─ ev's notes | this was such a fun blurb LOL

You waited for Luke and Jack at the player's entrance, excitement running through your veins. It had been a couple weeks since you'd seen Luke and this was the first game you'd attended since he had officially signed with the Devils. Now after a great win, you and the others are planning on going out to eat to celebrate not only the win, but finally being able to see your boyfriend.

After the exhilarating win, the atmosphere outside the entrance was filled with joy and relief. As the players filed out, you scanned the crowd for Luke and Jack before finally spotting them among the sea of their teammates, your heart skipped a beat. Luke's face lit up happily as he caught sight of you, and he quickly made his way over, still flushed from the game as Jack followed suit.

"Hey, there you are!" Luke exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug. "Couldn't have picked a better game to come to, huh?"

"That was such a good game, you did so well." You responded warmly as Luke kept his arm around you proudly. "I feel like such a proud WAG, like the ones on TikTok."

Luke laughed as he shook his head, "Oh yeah, that was the main goal - to make sure you get to brag about your boyfriend who's now officially in the NHL."

"How does it feel to be the best rookie this year?" You smiled, teasing him playfully.

Luke's cheeks flushed with a mix of modesty and pride. "Oh well, I mean... Let's not get ahead of ourselves. But it does feel pretty good. Hard work pays off, I guess."

"Don't let it get to your head, man. We need you focused for the next game." Jack playfully added as he looked at his brother, a smile on his face.

"You're too modest, Luke, you were so good out there." You grinned up at your tall boyfriend as he squeezed your shoulders.

Luke beamed at your compliment, appreciating your undying support. "Well, having the best cheerleader definitely helps," he said, leaning down to give you a quick kiss.

Jack watched as you two shared a small kiss, letting out an exaggerated gag as Luke pulled away with an eye roll. "Jesus, can you two save the PDA for, I don't know, not in front of me?" Jack teased, earning himself a playful shove from Luke.

Luke shot Jack a playful glare, "You're just jealous because you don't have someone cheering for you so proudly."

You laughed at Luke's comment as he pulled you closer, earning a dramatic scoff from Jack. "Luke I've got fan-girls all over the world. If I wanted a girlfriend, I'd have one-"

"Whatever, whatever." Luke dismissed with a smirk, "I'm just saying, it's different when you've got someone who knows you inside out, someone who's got your back no matter what."

Your heart fluttered as you watched Luke, your lips beginning to hurt from all the smiling.

Jack rolled his eyes, a subtle smile played on his lips. "Shut up dude, save the relationship advice for later. Plus I'm living my best life right now. No commitments, no stress, no nothing."

Luke glanced at you with a smirk as you two bursted out laughing, causing an annoyed to leave Jack's mouth as he began walking away. "We getting food or what? I'm starving."

"Absolutely," you replied, still chuckling from the joke.

Luke slung an arm around your shoulders, and together, you followed Jack outside to the car.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[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.

SERIES MASTERLIST

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:

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

[ew-selfish-art]

Dpxdc AU: Danny can’t fix Jason’s whole…deal… and doesn’t want to answer any questions on ectoplasm but he can get Jason to the best therapist he knows! Jason mistakes Danny constantly pushing Jazz his way as an awkward little brother move to set them up romantically- which uh, isn't necessarily a bad thing? Jazz has her own vested interests.

… heads up that this got long...

Jason ran his hands through this hair, relieving them from their previous position of cradling his face in embarrassment. Why was he sitting in a nice cafe with Danny’s redhead sister and a five dollar chai latte? For all the awkward live wire feelings he had, at least she was calm and composed. How many times had this happened already?

“So… the green stuff again?” Jazz asks, taking a sip from her own stupidly expensive drink and giving him eyebrows that beg for his explanation.

“Yeah. I was trying to get your brother to explain stuff without all the science mumbo jumbo. I just, I guess that means he defers to you.” Jason sighed, and tried to not think about how pretty her eyes were as she observed him.

“Not likely. But is the search for your answers helping you cope from day to day or making you climb an impossible mountain?” Jazz asks and it makes Jason fluster.

“It’s a moving goal post, sure, but I need answers if I’m going to fix my-“

“I think it might help you to realize that people don’t need to be fixed, they just need to grow.” Jazz interrupts.

They finish their drinks in a comfortable nonchalance, the rest of their conversation doesn’t go anywhere beyond their mutual hobbies and he’s grateful for that.

Jason's been doing a lot of introspection since this all started.

——

The first time it happened was months ago.

He confronts Danny after a mission, just wanting a simple answer on whether or not Danny thought the Lazarus pit contained ectoplasm? Could ectoplasm be separated from blood? Danny looked a little uncomfortable.

“Look dude, I know you want to know more but like, having this info isn’t going to help you. You need to talk it out.” Danny sounds sad and his eyes are filed with something adjacent to pity. It riles up the pit inside him.

“Oof. See that whole reaction thing. That’s not ectoplasmic, that’s something different. C’mon follow me.” Phantom cringes as he talks to him, and then floats across the rooftops, going slow enough that Jason can keep up on his grapple.

The arrive at a modest apartment building, not too far from his territory but clearly outside of it. Danny opens a window and slides in ahead of Jason, and all of a sudden he’s seated at a kitchen table with hot chocolate and teal blue eyes peering into his soul.

“Danny, some warning next time you’re bringing a crime boss to my apartment.” Jazz sighs and its not said with any malice or sarcasm. Danny gives her a grin and a peace sign before disappearing.

“So you want to talk about it?” Jazz turns back to him and asks.

“About?” Jason’s deep voice is going through the modulator and it sounds more sinister than it should.

“Death. Dying. The afterlife. Those are the normal things Danny brings people to me for.” She blinks.

“There’s a misunderstanding, I don’t need to talk, I need answers on Ectoplasm.” He grits out.

"Hm. Well that's not my field of study, but I can tell you that however your feeling is probably a valid response towards the trauma you've faced in life. Do you think showing yourself some kindness might lessen your desire to know the knitty gritty details?"

Jason scoffs.

"Oh. You're serious. No. I don't think being kind to myself is a valid approach to dealing with an infection that's cost me a lot of family relationships." Jason rolls his eyes. The woman looks contemplative for a moment and Jason can tell that while the dim kitchen lights are doing her no favors, she's incredibly beautiful. He pockets that information and refuses to think about it.

"So...Lets take this a different direction. Do you think successful people know what they're doing or do you think successful people need help to get where they want to go?"

"Most people are dumb and trying to get by." Jason grits out.

"So, accept that you're dumb. And then get by." Jazz replies, and then sighs and leaves the room.

Jason however, is now pissed off. Who the heck was she to say that to him?

____

The next time he finds himself across the table from Jazz, he's been on a wild goose chase with Danny and lands himself in a fancy restaurant. Why the hell was she here?

"Uh, it's called self care." Jazz replies, because apparently Jason asked that out loud. But he's not going to let this lead get away from him.

He takes off his helmet, years of muscle memory make him check that his Domino mask was in place, and sits down across from her. She raises a brow and then sighs.

"You think Danny might give me answers if I hold you hostage over, what is that, some kind of gnocchi dish?"

"Mm. Probably not." Jazz says, taking a bite and pulling out her phone.

"You're just going to ignore me then?" Jason finds himself a bit flabbergasted, he was a fucking crime lord, not someone to be ignored! Like he's just- just some bad blind date!

"Uh huh. You don't want to work on your issues and it's not my job to lead a stubborn horse to water."

"The expression is that you can lead a horse to water but you can't-"

"Can't what? Or are you still going to tell me it's not a huge waste of my time to tell you that you need to accept and forgive yourself to be able to move on. Find peace. Rest." Jazz is taking bites between her last few words but her glare remains unshakeable.

Jason is about to get up and leave when a terrified waiter comes over: "A dish, as compliments from the chef. Your guest's meal as well." He's shaking as he speaks and it makes Jason feel bad.

"Thanks." He grits out.

"...Is that the lasagna?" Jazz is looking at his food curiously, and Jason pushes it forward to indicate that she can take a bite. Probably not the safest thing for a civilian to do considering people regularly try to poison Jason but, meh. He's kind of pissed off at her still.

"It's pretty good. I was debating between that and the gnocchi- Okay let's think about this differently. You want to know about the green stuff, Danny is never going to tell a mortal about it and you keep denying yourself basic self-respect. What does your support system look like?"

"You're really pushing my buttons lady-" Jason can feel the green, but after a breath and seeing her unimpressed gaze "-I have a few friends who know what my deal is, I have an older brother who claims to forgive me, and a merry band of goons that I call my henchmen."

"Henchpeople?" Jazz asks.

"I mean, sure. That's more accurate."

"What do you do for fun?" She asks.

"I take down crime syndicates-" she levels him with another glare, he wonders why its so effective on him "-I read."

"Yeah? What genres?"

"Classics." He can admit only that much.

"Nerd. Are you going to eat any of that? You really shouldn't let food waste like that when it's not even fighting back."

"I don't know why I'm even bothering to talk to you right now." Jason spoke plainly.

"I dunno either but it's easier to tolerate you without the stupid helmet speaker. Anyway, If you like to read, hopefully that means you like to see new scenarios, new plots, stuff like that. You ever think to put yourself in side-character mode and contemplate what your whole deal is bringing to the table?"

"...How so?"

"Like, if you don't think it's worth it to treat yourself well, how do the main characters feel? Or, you know, if you were a child reading your story, what would you shout at them to move forward differently?"

"... I've decided that I only read poetry." Jason grumbles, trying to deflect with humor the fact that he does have some thoughts about what she's saying. She actually laughs at his joke though- he hadn't anticipated that.

"Uh, what is the Dr. Suess line? Stop telling outlandish tales, stop turning minnows into whales? something like that."

"Dr. Suess? Really?" Jason laughs.

"Sorry Mr. Classics, I spent most of my childhood raising my brother, forgive me for not knowing any fancy poetry." She huffs but he can tell she's laughing with him still.

They get off the topic of his mental health crisis and it turns out the Lasagna isn't half bad.

----

Jason keeps chasing Danny. Danny keeps leading him to Jazz. It goes for a few rounds before the ghost kid makes a joke about Jason liking her better anyway. Jason asks what the hell Phantom means by that, but Danny just laughs and says that Jason should just ask for her number.

...This does not sit right in his gut all of a sudden. Does he think that, that Jason is only pursuing this knowledge to keep talking to Jazz?? Does Danny want him to pursue Jazz? Does HE want to pursue Jazz???

----

He spots the Replacement in the Cave's lab before he heads upstairs to grab a cookie and leave as a civilian. The reason he even looked that way being that Tim is holding glowing green vials.

"Is that-"

"Yeah. They're literally the same except for the magic mumbo jumbo that Ra's has mixed in with the pit. Leave me alone now."

"So there is a way to heal it or, or extract it or-" Jason can feel his heart racing, but his constantly-exhausted sibling is looking at him like he's grown a second head.

"Dude. You're not gunna be able to flush it out with like, a juice cleanse. You're probably better off trying to find a magic user to deal with the curses and a therapist to do the rest." Tim looks like he's trying to be patient despite being deeply, deeply vexxed.

"Therapist- why in the hell would I-"

"I mean hasn't that been Danny's entire solution for you? He's only had one strategy the whole time he's lived in Gotham." Jason rolls his eyes.

"His solution is setting me up on dates with his sister not-"

"Dates!?! His sister is THE break out psychologist, she's done more for Arkham in the last year than decades of political reform! You've been goin on- wheez- oh my god I have to call Danny-" Tim is cackling, the lazarus water all but abandoned.

"Don't you fucking dare!"

After a (from both brothers) number of punches, a few headlocks and a large portion of threats, Jason agrees that Tim can tell his boyfriend but no one else.

Kon can keep a secret right? That's why he's the favorite?

----

"So... You and Jazz huh?" Danny looks amused as he floats by- Kon could not be trusted. The entire Justice league knows. Jason might have to die again. Apparently he said as much.

"Oh buddy, it's okay! You don't have to die again! I'm sure that if she likes you, she likes you just as you are, weird little zombie boy." Danny teases, turning intangible as Jason swings a punch at him.

"What do you mean if she likes me?" Jason asks, swinging with his grapple, trying to keep up with Danny.

"You think I read her diary or something? Weirdo. You need to talk to her about it tho, it's funny and all but I'm sure she's not a fan of the JL hot goss."

"I didn't start any of this-"

"My guy. Chill. I know, but uh, I did definitely tell her about it so... Oh look! We made it all the way to her apartment! BYE!"

Jazz is standing in the window and she looks like an absolute vision. Her glare makes him want to shit his pants however, and he knows that it's going to take all of his brain cells making contact to survive this encounter.

He sits on the fire escape when he realizes that she's not moving from her spot in the window, blocking his way. Ouch.

"So let me get this straight, you thought this whole time-"

"I thought Danny was being annoying and trying to set us up! I didn't know you were a shrink!" He tries to defend himself.

"...Why should I date an idiot?" the like yourself goes unsaid but he can hear it. Jason is scrambling.

"...I can make even better lasagna than that fancy restaurant you like." is what he lands on. Jazz bursts out a laugh.

"I was just fucking with you, but honestly what a great response." She's wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.

"Just fucking with me?" He grins a bit, unable to stop himself from getting excited.

"Yeah, I've been telling everyone at work that I'm dating the Red Hood for like, months now. It's been stellar for my hostage record, I haven't had an issue since I started the rumor!"

"We're dating?" Jason asks, a bit bewildered but charmed.

"I wouldn't give free therapy to just anyone! Now about that Lasagna-"

Something, something, something- they seal the deal with a kiss.

[princessbrunette]

reader falling in love with jj after he fights someone for her because shes used to men being so rough with her so when jj come up to her and cups her cheek telling her it'll all be okay reader is GONER

(i'm projecting can you tell)

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 🐇 ／ ⋆ ۪

meeting jj at a party at the boneyard and kinda just hanging around him — he’s cool, funny, makes you feel welcome into any conversation. what’s not to like? it’s no surprise that over the course of the evening you develop a little crush on him.

at parties, people get drunk and unruly — you’re no stranger to it and it certainly doesn’t shock you, but certain guys take it too far, and it makes you uncomfortable. some kook joined your circle where you all stood together, and it was clear from the get go that he was pretty drunk. jj sends you a secret look, snickering at the guy when he starts to act obnoxiously and you feel a little special that he was singling you out to joke with. you giggle to yourself, but soon enough the kook is stepping up into your space. asking you all kinds of questions about yourself. saying he ‘want to get to know you.’

it was funny for maybe the first three seconds, but then it got weird. out the corner of your eye, as this kook cuts across the circle to talk pretty much in your face — jj’s amused smile fades off his face.

“alright man.” he slaps a hand down on the guys shoulder, and he aggressively shrugs the blondes hand off him, continue to slur nonsense at you.

everytime you take a polite step back, he steps forward. jj’s jaw ticks at the way he shrugged his hand off, and he steps up again. “hey kook, you wanna back off the lady a little? damn.” there’s still a lighthearted chuckle at the end, clearly trying to diffuse his own irritation. this time, the kook turns around with an enraged glare.

“you tryna fuckin’ cockblock me or something?”

jj takes the moment to slide infront of you, creating space between you and the creep, walking him a few steps backward.

“trust me bro, i’m not blockin’ shit. she’s not interested.”

“why don’t you let her speak for herself, huh? hey, you gonna let me get to know you?” he hollers around jj at you. feeling a little braver with your wall of protection, you respond.

“no thank you, i’m good.”

“y’hear that—”

“fucking bitch—”

jj loses his patience fast, shoving the guy back hard by the shoulders sending him stumbling. the guy puts up a fight, and next thing you know there’s a circle of people watching jj beat his ass on the sand. you’re dazed, everything happening too quickly to comprehend, especially with the alcohol buzzing in your system. you found yourself slightly teary eyed, nail between your teeth.

you seem to come back to yourself when jj is infront of you once more, this time with a split lip and bruised knuckles.

“hey, you good? m’sorry i— yeah that was kinda— lost my temper just a lil.” hes still a little breathless, leading you away from the loud party.

“he called me a —”

“yeah, i know. dude i fuckin’ hate guys like him. can’t take rejection like… what a pussy.” he runs his hands through his floppy hair before turning to look at you. “you’re okay though, right? he didn’t touch you? ‘cus i swear i’ll go to jail over that shit.”

“no, he didn’t…” you blink up at him, still a little dazed. “thanks for defending me.”

it’s then he gets all modest and bashful, waving you off with a shrug. “that? nah i uh— it’s nothin’.”

he was going to have to do a lot more than shrug you off to stop you for falling for him.

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 🐇 ／ ⋆ ۪

[nonotnolan]

Summer Break Dullahans

I can’t say that I was expecting to respond to somebody’s cry for help at three in the afternoon.  The student dorms were already pretty empty, since only one of the three buildings would be open for summer classes, and most people were at home until the summer semester officially started.  So when I heard a faint cry of “Can anybody hear me?  I need help!” it was easy for me to believe that the guy had been yelling in vain for quite awhile.  I wasn’t sure what I expected-- a Freshman who managed to get pinned between the bed and the wall, maybe?  I sure as hell wasn’t expecting to see Ben’s detached head sitting on a couch pillow.

No wonder he was yelling for help, he was literally just a head!  I walked over and picked him up off the couch, grabbing him on either side of his ears.  I thought for sure this was just an optical illusion somehow, but... no, I was holding his entire head in my hands.  “Put me down, jackass,” he shouted, trying and failing to wiggle out of my grip.  “I don’t need help from you.”

I wasn’t expecting to feel the muscles in his jaw move as he spoke, and I’m a bit ashamed to admit I actually dropped him in surprise.  He landed on the couch, at least, but it couldn’t have felt good to land nose-first from that far up.  “I’m so sorry, Ben,” I said, as I rotated him back to an upright position.  “What happened to you, anyway?”

“You know damn well what happened-- your fucking roommate happened, that’s what,” he said, glaring at me.  “I was just watching some Netflix when Grant barges into my room with a goddamn sword.  Next thing I know I’m stuck on the couch, and he’s taking away my headless body!  He already told me about your plan to steal bodies away from other guys, don’t you fucking dare pretend to feel bad.”  Well, that was news to me, but Ben refused to believe a word I said.  Not knowing what else to do, I turned on the TV on for him, and leaved the door open so that the next person might be able to find him a bit easier.  

Pulling out my phone, I discovered that I’d missed a few text messages from Grant.  He said he was waiting for me downstairs in the parking garage with a surprise that I’d have to see to believe.  Which... yeah, if I hadn’t managed to stumble across Ben’s detached head, I don’t think that I ever would have expected to see a muscular Grant.  He was a great roommate and all, but the dude was maybe 120 pounds on a good day.  Given that I was easily twice his weight, the two of us definitely had a weird dynamic going.

Or, we used to, at any rate.  The new Grant was almost certainly a lot more muscular than he had ever been before in his entire life.  It was hard to imagine the guy who stayed up every night with me to grind rank in League of Legends being able to earn a physique like that.  And there was something about seeing his pale head resting on top of Ben’s tanned body that was just far too comical.

“What, is that the only reaction I’m going to get?” he asked, frowning slightly.  “Fuckin’ look at me, bro.  I’m like some sort of Alpha Male now.  You wish you could be a man like me!”  He started flexing his arms, causing veins to appear in places I didn’t even know they existed.  “It’s okay to be jealous, Eric.  You don’t gotta act so modest on my account.  I know you’re gay, it’s okay if you suddenly want a piece of this.”

I couldn’t help but laugh.  “Sorry if you were expecting me to be completely losing it right now,” I said.  “I already ran into Ben upstairs, and he told me... well, what’s left of him told me about what you did.  Nice sword, by the way.”

“Well, fuck,” he said, letting his shoulders drop.  There was something about seeing him stand there, slouched over, that made him look so much more like the real Grant.  “Probably should have slapped his head onto my old body before leaving.  I guess on the plus side, I won’t have to work very hard to convince you that this sword is magic somehow.  And anyway, I still have another surprise up my sleeve.”  He snapped his fingers, and gestured toward a figure who had been standing off in the shadows.  Well, most of a figure, at any rate.  A headless body, absolutely stacked with muscles, stepped forward into the lights.

“Did you... is that for me?” I asked, trying to make sense of the surge of emotions I felt.  Desire.  Longing.  Lust.  Holy hell, I wanted that body to be mine.  The shoulders, the pecs, the abs... healthy, vibrant, everything that my current pale and flabby body could never be.  Not without more work than I would ever be willing to do.  A primal, animalistic Need.  And, if I had to be honest, a slight amount of guilt.  I’d already saw what Grant had done to Ben.  If I made this body mine, I would be stealing it from someone else.

I was utterly entranced.  I found myself tracing the ridges of its chest with my fingers, my head utterly swimming in hormones as my manhood rose to its paltry four inches underneath my cargo shorts.  “Grant, who did... where did you find him?”

“Nuh-uh,” Grant said, shaking his head at me.  “I know you, Eric.  You think too much.  If I tell you his name, you’re gonna feel bad and you’re gonna try to make it up to him.  Fuck that shit.  This is all or nothing.  You want this body, you don’t get to know whose it was.”

He knew me far too well.  I looked back and forth between Grant and the headless muscle hunk that he had procured for me.  Did I want it that badly?  Would I be able to live with myself afterward?  My head tried to argue ethics, but my heart already knew my answer.  

I dropped down onto my knees, giving Grant easier access to my neck.  He lifted the sword up high into the air, striking down with a massive swing.  I felt a sudden lurch as I fell several feet to the ground.  I tried to use my arms to prevent myself from hitting the ground, only I didn’t have arms anymore-- my old body was completely unresponsive.

“Hey, wanna know what your new body is gonna smell like?”  I tried to protest, but I was unable to stop Grant from lifting up my new body’s arm and shoving my head right into its armpit.  The coarse hair brushed up against my nose and lips as the sweaty musk filled my nostrils.  “Yeah, you like that, don’t you,” he said, laughing at me.  I wanted to be mad, but... he was absolutely right.

“Just shut up and attach my head,” I said, trying not to let him know how much it was turning me on.  If I didn’t have an armpit fetish before, I did now.  Grant lowered my head into place, and suddenly I had full control over my new, muscular body.

I practically sprinted back inside to find a bathroom with a good mirror.  Can you blame me?  You could still see the difference between my head’s pale skin and my body’s bronze tan, but I think maybe a lot of people would  just assume that I had used tanning spray.  Hell, for all I know, my prior body really had used a tanning spray.

A few months from now, the rest of my friends would return from summer break, and I would have to try and convince everyone that I had gained this body naturally.  No one would ever believe that I had lost 100 pounds at the same time that my roommate gained 100 pounds.  Although... if Grant was planning to keep the sword, maybe he would be willing to hook up my friends with a new body as well?

[natsuslover]

bllk boys as american high school stereotypes ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

notes— bc i miss being a senior in high school watching bllk every saturday while working on college apps :(

ft. yoichi isagi, seishiro nagi, meguru bachira, reo mikage

warnings: none :)

yoichi isagi - the accomplished nerd

you cannot tell me this kid wouldn’t at least be ranked top 6% or smth

like he would definitely have his whole high school life and college career planned out using his meta vision or whatever

he would “devour” all of his tests, quizzes, concept checks, etc.

and not to mention that he plays soccer

i know for a fact dude would milk the soccer thing for all it’s worth on his college apps

like in every other sentence on his college essay he would be talking about his soccer trauma lmao

he would also be a part of so many other clubs just to have a stacked resumé

i feel like he would study a lot too like just because he wants to do well in school in general

he’s one of those nerds that’s not necessarily popular but everyone knows him because people talk about his grades and his rank and they look up to him and stuff

was definitely cancelled for a bit for calling one of his classmates a slur after getting a bad grade on a group project…

seishiro nagi - the “invisible” kid

he’s not actually invisible he just never shows up to class lmao

he shows up occasionally to get the bare minimum of school hours so he can graduate, and also shows up for test days because making up work is a pain

he usually just sits in the back of class and is either sleeping or blatantly playing on his phone but the teachers never say anything because they lowkey forget he exists

but somehow he still has perfect grades??

he doesn’t think he has a lot of friends because he thinks it’s too much energy to keep up with a social life

and yet he’s still pretty popular and was somehow dragged into a huge friend group without even trying

a lot of girls have hallway crushes on him and try to flirt with him but he doesn’t even notice

and if he does he just pretends he doesn’t.

he couldn’t care less about school and just goes because he has to and internally complains about wanting to go home the entire day

meguru bachira - the weird kid

i’m sorry i love bachira but he’d definitely be that one kid people laugh at in the hallways

not necessarily in a “he gets bullied” way but just like, he’s weird and he knows it, everyone else knows it, and he’s genuinely funny

he’s like the weird kid that everyone’s friends with if ykwim

but it’s also kind of sad because he has no real friends

his grades are good enough i suppose; he doesn’t really try but he’ll get into a pretty decent college so he’s fine

doesn’t take school all that seriously

definitely the class joker

and is the subject of teacher gossip pretty much everyday because they find him incredibly tiring to deal with

other kids have seen him talking to himself in the hallways so they’re kind of creeped out by him

he’s completely aware that people talk about him behind his back but he doesn’t really care because he like being able to make people laugh

reo mikage - the rich kid

this one is obvious lol

he’s always wearing luxury brand names to school like it’s nothing

like catch this man in the hallway in gucci shoes, a louis vuitton jacket, prada sunglasses, and spraying his chanel perfume everywhere because the hallway smells like shit

people become friends with him just in the hopes that he’ll buy them super bougie stuff for their birthdays or whenever

he’s literally a nepo baby so he doesn’t even have to do well in school to get into a good college

has girls falling for him left and right but he knows it’s just because he happens to be wealthy and genetically fortunate

definitely would be a popular kid that gets along well with everyone

he’s really modest about his wealth but also not modest at all at the same time

the teachers try to suck up to him because they’re adamant that he’s going to be successful in the future (and he probably will)

blows money on his friends every time they hang out and throws the best parties with expensive ass alcohol

[headkiss]

Holy guacamole what if Eddie and Corroded Coffin leave for the city (Indianapolis?) to play @ a venue and there’s a band on stage when he walks in and he’s supposed to be getting his equipment ready but gets distracted by reader as lead singer & dummer singing/playing they’re Why You Wanna Break My Heart by Tia Carrere and he’s literally hypnotized & knows he wants her ugnnnhh

thank u for this idea i like it a LOT :D | 0.6k words, first meeting, swooning and flirty rockstar!eddie

Eddie should be backstage, tuning his guitar, changing his outfit, smudging eyeliner onto his eyes. Instead, he stands at the back of the crowd, guitar over his shoulder, watching you perform.

He was already buzzing walking into the venue with his band mates. Excited to be on stage, to do what he loves most. The music snuck through the walls, letting him hear it from outside.

When he walked in and looked at the stage, though, he couldn’t look away.

You stood front and center, hands wrapped around your mic stand, hips swaying to the music. He thinks, even if you were in the back, you’d stand out all the same.

There’s an ease in the way you sing, like you don’t even have to try even though he knows—as a singer himself—that you are. Your voice is unique, smooth, and he wishes he hadn’t missed the rest of your set.

“Dude, stop gawking, we have to get ready!” Gareth shakes him by the shoulder.

Eddie blinks hard, like it’ll snap him out of whatever trance you had him in. He nods and walks behind Gareth, his eyes stay on you until you’re out of sight and he’s slipping backstage, into a dressing room.

He can still hear you singing as he gets ready. It makes him dizzy.

You always feel nervous until you’re on stage. Until the spotlight warms your skin and the cheers fill your ears. The music takes over, and you basically black out while performing.

That rush of adrenaline, the way your senses are filled. It’s your favorite thing.

You were a little extra nervous today, seeing as you’re playing before a band you’ve admired for a long time. Corroded Coffin, probably backstage as you speak.

Eddie’s already side stage when you finish, just far back enough that the audience can’t see him yet. And in your haze, neither can you.

You almost run into him when you leave the stage, your forehead and chest shining with sweat, makeup even more smudged than before. You stop short in front of him, panting, looking up at him and smiling when you see him.

“Eddie Munson.”

You know who he is. You know who he is and you’re even prettier up close than you were on stage and he thinks he’s dreaming because of how unreal you are.

“That’s me. You were incredible out there,” he says, “from the bits I saw, anyway.”

“Thank you,” you take a sip from your water bottle. “I’m sure you guys will one up me in a couple minutes.”

He laughs, shaking his head, “after that? No way.”

“Come on, don’t be modest, rockstar.”

Eddie’s still convinced he’s dreaming.

“What’s your name?”

You tell him, and he repeats it, testing it out. You like it a lot more coming from his mouth, you think.

Even your name is pretty, and Eddie can feel himself like you more and more by the second. It was like as soon as he looked at you on stage, you had him hooked, reeling him in with every word.

“You staying for our set?” He asks.

“Do you want me to stay?”

“Wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t, babe.”

“Yeah, I’m staying.”

He lets himself look at you, your hair messy from flipping it around, your chest still rising and falling heavily, the glitter on your eyelids. You’re a literal dream.

Gareth steals him away once more, yelling, “we’re on, loverboy!”

“That’s my cue,” Eddie says.

“Knock ‘em dead, rockstar.”

He sends you a wink before turning to rush on stage. He lets his gaze flick to you in the wings while he performs, too.

[short-black-diamond]

Hiii :)

Hope ur doing okay <3. I wanted to ask if u could make a part 2 of Tokyo revengers member with a hijabi girl but this time they’re married and it’s like a headcanon of how the guys act in public, or if they help her to dress up please ! :) (if u do it, I’m okay with all characters but can u add mitsuya plzzz)

I rlly don’t know if that’s clear bc English isn’t my first language but I hope it is and sorry for the typos !!

Btw hello from France, I love ur headcanons hehee :))

Heyyy, I hope everything is okay over there, France looks like it's burning rn from the news I'm getting. Also yeah I am totally doing this!

Also your english is pretty good so don't worry sweetheart,

Also I did not proofread

Characters : Ran, Rindou, Sanzu, Baji, Mitsuya

Tokyo revengers with a muslim wife :D

Part one , part two -> tr with a muslim friend

Ran

This slick mf

this click model lanky ass dude mf

how did you even get to date him? With his fvking braids???

Anyways, back to the now where he has a better haircut-

Since he is what we could say the main leader of Roppongi, he must also have access to many clothing shops

and when I tell you he let his underlings install as many modest shops as possible-

just to go on a walk with you and be like-

"Oh, that is new. Wanna go in and see some dresses or skirts for you?"

again, he is a slick mf

but you somehow love him so i let you vibbeeeee

"Oh, that looks nice- oop, nope, not for me.", you muttered after you checked the price on the tag of a pretty looking dress

but ran just took it and put it on his underarm like a waiter would

you felt bad the whole time

cuz like, everything is so expensive???

but no shit cuz it has qualityyyyy

chile anyways

you got like ten dresses and two abayas you wanted to "just try out"

mind you ran is actually planning to buy the whole store for you

but you are also no better, you are a lil shit as well

when you got to the place where they hung the hijabs, you smirked at him mischieviously

your were trying to hold in your laugh as you tapped him on the shoulder

"He-hey Ran...w-wanna try this out?", and you couldn't do no more than to burst out laughing

ran just smiled at you in fondness while he thought back to the day where you first led him to one of the stores you frequented and he wanted to make you laugh

so he put on a headshawl, but he looked more like a grandma than a modest woman

and you had that exact picture in mind as you were giggling

at least he was your husband now

he pays for everything, he is sweet to you, and you feel comfortable around him, even in public

y'all look like a power couple tbh

he looks rich and you're his precious woman

damn I'm feeling so single now. Thanks for requesting this. It's a great reminder on how I'll never find a rich man like him.

Rindou

shy, still surprised and happy that you decided to marry him

like, you married him? he was bald on both sides of his head in his teen age gírl!

he looks better now-

enough of the bullying, this tsundere man (I still know nothing about these guys) had the same idea as his older brother and so, there were many shops, but under his name. He financed them, and so it was no surprise when he took you out on a shopping spree, only for you to take whatever you want

safe to say he fell in love all over again when he saw you happily strolling ahead and picked some clothes for yourself

he also loves showing you off

like, he's also lucky that you don't mind stepping out in public with him

y'all also look like a power couple

and honestly, he thinks that you look absolutely beautiful, covered in the finest silk and smiling that sweet smile of yours

Sanzu

You were the reason he stopped falling into the abyss of temporary ecstasy, which would lead to his death

He was surprised that you didn't look at him weirdly

and now, he is happy to call himself your husband

he loves touching the different susbances like jersey, silk, or cotton cloth, which you would use to cover your head with

"This one looks nice! Want me to buy it for you?"

Such a sweet man for you

always tells you when there's hair visible, also stands in front of you, looking down on you with a fond smile as you hurriedly fix your hijab

loves holding your hand and swinging it around

Feels much better when you tell him about Islam and stories from the prophets

wants to protect you at all costs because you're just so beautiful and sweet and he wouldn't be able to live alone anymore if something happened to you,

I mean,

you saved him from the drugs and alcohol, he wants to save you form all the bastards outside

Baji

You guys got together because he beated up a few guys who were harrassing you

stares at the men who look at you for longer than 0.0000001 second

like Baji...

please-

anyways

hates it when you wash your stuff and he has to iron them then, because he fears that he'd either not iron it perfectly, or the iron burns your precious and expensive cloths

you always tell him to let you do it yourself, his deadass response is always:

"If I can't iron my wife's clothes then what type of man am I?!?"

We love Baji

Is also in love with your cooking? Or when you go to a restaurant which has your traditional food, he is all in

wants to have kids with you, like in the first month of being married, he was like, "would you like to start a family? I'd love to see my daughters wearing hijabs as well"

Goals

we got him, sisters

You smile, "Let's wait a little"

Like c'mon Baji, let your wife have a calm live, kids can come later

but he still managed to put you into a baby fever

Sends you fucking videos of mothers playing with their daughters

little girls putting on niqabs

little biys praying alongside or behind their father

Baji got taught how to pray by you, your father, or his newly found friends in mosques

he wants to have children so bad, and the fact that Islam is not just a religion but the way of living life, he wants to teach his younglings as well

(How did I think about kids all of a sudden???)

Mitsuya

You better believe that when you ask him to go buy clothes with you, he's only looking for ideal cotton which won't irritate your skin

will make you feel guilty by saying: "don't you trust my skills?"

damn another gaslighter, but in a healthy way

I mean, sure, buying cotton itself is expensive, but at least he knows what fits you spot on and you don't have to look for stuff that you'll only wear once a month

takes lessons on how to make the perfect hijab and dress for you

I've said it once but I'll say it again,

GOALSSS

ok now here again

will have the same idea as baji and ask you if you'd like to have kids

to make them hijabs as well

In his next fashion meeting, he introduces the idea of having his models run the stage with modest clothing, and got accepted

when I tell you their marketing skyrocketed-

You're happy that your husband launches modest clothing for other muslims as well

---

Sorry if it got shorter and shorter but that was all I could come up with. And now looking back, I'm confused as to why Ran's is so long, I don't even like him, like wtf?

Anyways, I hope you liked it!

Leave a like or a comment! Reblog if you want to!

Read you in the next post!

[quietbluejay]

Betrayer 1

SO the books opens with a flashback to Isstvan III it's after the battle oh hey Skane that name is familiar so is Kargos the writing very well captures the quiet feeling after the battle

Skane tells Kargos that it's Kharn Kargos: I'll be right over I do enjoy ADB's prose at least based on what i've seen of The First Heretic and some of his short stories, it's something he definitely started out with on a higher level than all the other HH authors my main issue with The First Heretic and why I haven't read it yet, is, at least in the sample, it's all spectacle no substance Betrayer doesn't really have that issue, I don't think

like I love Haley's prose, you all know I love Haley's prose, but Valedor and Pharos (Valedor especially) were a lot rougher one of the fun things about reading BL books is you can actually see writers progressing in terms of their craft okay we have a date! it's been a year since Isstvan V

throughout the heresy, the ultramarines consistently are the guys who get slaughtered, tortured, and sacrificed and this book doesn't beat the trend lol i mean okay it makes logical sense in a lot of cases but it sure does feel like they're the go-to if you want to show traitor forces winning it's what at least 4 books where this happens? anyways

we get a bunch more excerpts from Ultramarine ship commanders that are basically in the same vein as this

Chapter 1 and that sure is something "relative" is doing a LOT of lifting here and "modest" lorgar is peacefully watching the chanting and shrieking when he gets magnus interrupt

okay so i know BL has never been the most consistent about character descriptions but last I saw Lorgar's skin was described as "golden" (over in A Thousand Sons) here he's "pale" and "gold-inscribed marble" the narration is, hm, biased in favour of Lorgar here describing him as an "aesthetically pleasing statue" vs Magnus being "red-skinned heathen idol" "the sort worshipped by primitive cultures in less enlightened ages" "the red of flayed muscles" is a zinger of a description, but it's interesting as a contrast to lorgar being described as stone especially since as i recall later in this scene lorgar is the emotional one Lorgar is apparently very open with his emotions, the narration says as he thanks Magnus Magnus mentions that Lorgar (and the WB) have changed a lot since Isstvan Lorgar: from angron that would be a compliment, from you it's not

Magnus sensed all the death happening at Calth because of the waves in the Warp Lorgar: regrettable but necessary Magnus: hm

i didn't really pay attention to this the other times but…man imagine being magnus here he's stuck on this side whether he wants to be or not and Lorgar is the only other one who really "gets it" so to speak w.r.t. the Warp and Lorgar is Lorgar it also gets mentioned that Magnus' sheer psychic might sets Lorgar's teeth on edge

and the next thing Lorgar brings up is "do you feel shame that Russ broke your back over his knee" Magnus: drop it

yeah it's pretty clear as we go through it that Lorgar is sick of Magnus looking down on him Magnus asks Lorgar about Argel Tal the two of them bond about their top dudes being kind of broken Magnus still gets the ick when Lorgar calls the chaos gods "gods" Magnus: they're sentient warp storms anyways Lorgar needs Magnus' advice

lorgar conjures up an illusion of what happened Lorgar: Angron is dying a good chunk of this conversation is the two of them throwing barbs at each other Magnus: so? Lorgar: I'm going to save him Magnus: your loyalty does you credit but Angron's death would probably be a net benefit for the galaxy

and the Fidelitas Lex and the Conqueror get back into realspace there's some fun description here

I especially like "hungry iron children"

magnus: i'm about to watch you guys get splatted magnus: anyways where's the rest of your fleet lorgar: oh all over ultramar killing people so how is lorgar planning on completely neutralizing armatura rather than just raiding? "you've got a nasty surprise up your sleeve"

so anyways on this third read, i don't actually feel like the writing is being unfair to magnus it was pinging me that way originally I think because of the way it describes lorgar and his reactions but…it never actually gets into lorgar's thoughts or genuine feelings

the descriptions of him really give him more of an uncanny valley feeling

this is why i compare him to that baby alligator there is something very deeply wrong with him Magnus asks if he hates Guilliman that much, and Lorgar laughs

uh huh

like look at this (re lorgar's reactions)

Magnus: I'm worried about your sanity like Lorgar's features repeatedly get described as "divine" and he's consistently described as things related to stone, soil, metals it all kind of adds up to give a feeling of someone who looks like a human and even emotes like one…but whatever is going on underneath works differently

yeah, I don't think Lorgar is overly fond of Magnus, somehow I'm remembering now why I felt like this was Magnus bashing a bit

Magnus is right here, though I may not like him, but he's absolutely right

Magnus did make the wrong deals but…none of it would have blown up the way it did if Lorgar hadn't done what he did Lorgar just goes :) as Magnus loses his temper a bit

AU where Magnus snaps here I mean, I want to strangle Lorgar a bit rn

there should really have been more Chaos infighting Lorgar tells Magnus to watch them Magnus: I'm not really interested in seeing you guys get massacred

yeah that's not ominous at all

we get a description of Armatura as you can probably guess from the name - it's a planet devoted to production of war materiel and soldiers anyways it's uh got a LOT of defences

lorgar: do you hear the people sing lorgar: singing the song of the despair

"lorgar drew in a shivery breath" he's going a little mad with power here lorgar: every death weakens the veil between hell and reality he's laughing and weeping

i really get the feeling that even without Chaos, Lorgar would be, hm, off

a little magnus POV in response to this magnus tells lorgar that whatever he's doing, he's still about to get splatted by the guns of armatura "lorgar looked back towards the black heavens"

lorgar: did you just call to insult me also lorgar: has been throwing a lot more insults

and a giant ship shows up out of a warp rift surprise!

yeah so like how exactly did Lorgar get three of these monstrosities built Gloriana class are hard enough to get built I'd imagine this is one of ADB's weaknesses imo sometimes, he's good at writing stuff that looks dramatic but when you poke at it it…kind of doesn't make logistical sense

also there's another checkmark for Lorgar being just as much of a drama queen as literally everyone else in this family and now time for our main characters to enter the scene

yess it's Argel Tal and Kharn hanging out on the Conqueror

that's a fun little touch

one thing this book is doing really well is in its figurative use of language to describe people the Nails are bothering Kharn right now

Argel Tal (who has not yet been named) asks about it "with rancid empathy" a big reason his use of language is so effective is because of the unusual descriptors he's using i'm a big fan of this, this is something i like to do when writing poetry, so it's nice to see other people use it empathy is pretty much never described as rancid there were a few other phrasings we've passed already that were like this but i don't want to scan through everything to pick them up again Argel Tal grips his shoulder (presumably in sympathy), which is described as "unwelcome"

now for Argel Tal's description

Argel Tal gets some pretty evocative descriptors too bleeding to death, graverobbing he echoes Magnus' thoughts about Armatura and their certain deaths a billion soldiers on armatura that is a Lot

to be continued

[strawbrygashez]

P1 Doe x P3 Dude HCs cuz they’ve been on my mind :3

•While P3 is a DOG when it comes to more revealing clothing on his partners, he thinks P1s Doe style is super cute. I imagine her clothes are very modest like lots of long skirts, baggy sweaters, cardigans, etc. The only odd thing she might hear about it from him is that he says the “librarian look really does it for him” 🤦‍♀️

Since she dresses modestly a lot of the time, it makes the times where she shows a bit more even better for p3 👍!!!! She’s usually embarrassed when she’s dressed in ‘less’ but he makes sure to tell her & show her she’s absolutely gorgeous.

•I’ve seen a couple things where ppl make P1 Doe more obsessed with god/religion more than I’ve seen with p1.. so it makes me think she’d probably ask P3 to come to church with her pretty often. P3 of course groans about it and whatnot but if he’s not busy, he’ll come with anyways. He doesn’t really listen to the preacher or whoever tho and just kinda man spreads next to her on the bench & just fiddles around with whatever he can or he just falls asleep 💀

P1 Doe would shove him awake if he did fall asleep & started snoring.. or if she could tell P3 fell asleep at all. (P3 is thankful for his sunglasses bc it makes it harder for her to tell if he’s dozing off or not)

I think eventually she’d go less and less because her paranoia about everything would get less extreme the longer she’s with P3 :0

•Usually P3 ended up with or chased after more confident, flirtatious women in the past so when he gets feelings for P1 Doe, he really has to actually work on getting close to her and changing his approach to flirting 💀 He might struggle a bit with not trying to come onto her too strong but he gets it eventually LOL he wants something really meaningful with her anyways :3

•I think like P1 Dude, P1 Doe wouldn’t have had many relationships in the past. Maybe a crush here and there and a attempt at dating once or twice but nothing ever really worked. She has no idea how to go about dating and flirting bc like P1 Dude, she’s awkward and just doesn’t understand people a lot of the time. So again, P3 is gonna have to take it slow with her & reassure her a bunch.

Part of me thinks she’d kinda feel worried and bad about ‘not being a good girlfriend’ and she’s confused why P3 even bothers with her when she’s ‘the way she is’.

•Kinda going along with prev point, since she doesn’t have a lot of dating experience, when p3 does start to get handsy, she’s SWEATING so bad. Her hearts going crazy, she’s not sure what to do. Not even if it’s like a 👀😳 moment but like just him wrapping a arm around her while they watch tv together has her dying (at least earlier on). She’d eventually get used to him touching her and her touching him but yea.. she just isn’t used to psychical touch at all LOL

•Going back to the clothes thing again somewhat, she tries to remember what P3 points out that he likes on her, so she can wear it around him more.

Like with all pdudes, I think when they get a s/o they really love, it helps them remember to take care of themselves more often. So like.. I think sometimes she’d start to remember to actually brush out her hair & maybe even do it up/try a new hair style in hopes he’d like it :,) NOT SAYING SHE’D DO IT ALL THE TIME.. she’s still p1 so she’s gonna have wild hair more often than not but I dunno I think she, like p1 dude would as well, would wanna try to put effort into ‘looking nice’ for their s/o.

•They are definitely a opposites attract kinda couple. I can see the other pdudes being kinda taken back when they find out they are together but also.. pdudes dont give much of a fuck about which Pdude is with who 💀

P3 won’t shut up about her around the others tho. Every other sentence out of his mouth is about his “beautiful, smart girlfriend”

The other Postal Doe’s all gave P1 Doe a look when they found out P1 Doe is with p3 of all pdudes like “really? Him?” But I think she might stand up for him a little bit even 🥲 and tell them he’s actually not that bad and a sweet guy when u get to know him. Now I dunno if they’d actually believe her or not tho 💀

[brisquad-unit-4402]

Hello unit 4402!

So tomorrow's luxiem new outfit reveal and judging from the silhouette, we're hoping for some ponytail shu yamino. Can't help but come back to your mini hcs about him having his hair tied up and reveal his neck..

Ok im sorry i've fallen too deep into this rabbit hole called simping for shu yamino i should be going by now bye have a nice day ashwbshwuqwjkl

-🍰

no ur right. but while i’m at it. BRUH I WAS RIGHT. I WAS SO RIGHT. WHY IS HE SO FUCKING HOT EVEN WHEN ALL WE HAVE IS A SILHOUETTE. I’M SO MAD. CAN YOU NOT SAVE ANY DRIP FOR THE REST OF US KING. FUCK OFFFFFF

but also not really bc we as a society have not talked enough about shu with long hair being so pretty and now i’m glad that we can address what a massive fucking dub that is. i could be going so insane rn.

you guys are sooooo lucky i’m too tired to type out how handsome shu is. soooo lucky i can barely think in full sentences much less articulate how nice it is to see his face in all its amethyst glory and still be able to comb through his hair through your fingers.

dude i’m so gone rn i wanna kiss his forehead SO BAD. maaaan. he deserves a million and one kisses and all the love in the world, he’s actually so gorgeous and has such a comfortable personality. he’d be so modest and shy when you tell him that too. all blushy and stuttery even after you kiss every inch of his face and the top of his head and his exposed neck, which isn’t used to his hair being out of the way and shivers so much at just the feeling of your lips on his nape. he just goes from stuttery to speechless the more intense you get against his skin like he’s your territory, and your hands in his ponytail can go from relaxing to hot real fast. you’ve got the driving wheel in your hands and he’s willing to follow your lead even when he thinks all your love against his neck is what will make his heart explode

(also uhhh. idk how to integrate this one here but corsets cinch the waist and makes them look way smaller than they actually are. so like. either hoel-mama commits to the biceps + sideboob muscle and lets him have such a nice set of abs, or turns out his waist is just that snatched naturally, you know, like he was invented to be perfectly grabbable. or we keep the corset which has to be one of the top 5 pieces of clothing ever. we literally can’t lose)

(update: UGHHH GOD I DIDNT EVEN MENTION HOW HIS PONYTAIL LETS YOU AIM FOR HIS EAR WITH PERCISION AND THE LITTLE MOANS HE MAKES IN RESPONSE. FUUUUCK)

[love-toxin]

For the Halloween sentence starters could you do :

“What are you dressed as?” With billy please?

He’s pretty n I like to look at himmmm

ellie's halloween sentence starters!

x. "What are you dressed as?"

(cws: fake blood, teasing, alcohol, mostly flirting, a little neurodivergent reader for ya)

"So,"

The guy you've been sharing looks with for an hour has finally strolled on over, the party nothing but background noise as he leans over you and speaks softly. Being tall, handsome, and shredded--as you can see by the open leather jacket he's got on--was enough to catch your attention. But when he speaks, his charm is what inclines you to hang on his every word.

"What are you dressed as?"

He raises a brow, thumbing the thin strap of the white gown you've got on. The dress isn't really what most people have been eyeing with your costume--it's mostly the fake blood that you're drenched in, from your hair down your face to stain the long fabric that swishes about your feet.

"Carrie." Usually it's an easy guess, but you're not a perfect match, and you've seen a few other partygoers come and go all done up in blood like you. Most of them are Jasons and Michael Myers, though, to be fair.

"You're cute." He grins, his fingers drifting downwards until he lets his hand fall away. "I'm Billy."

It's your turn to quirk a brow, and your smirk seems to puzzle him for a moment, until you have the grace to fill him in to what he's missing.

"Stephen King Carrie. Not my name--but thanks." You don't want to make fun of him or make him feel like you are, but his little 'oh' of realization makes you giggle, and it only takes him snickering at his own ridicule for any tension to dissolve and your shared laughter to resonate off the party's energy. Having surveyed him for a while over the lip of your solo cup, you'd expected a brash guy like himself, who seems intent and happy on showing off, to roll his eyes and move along with his plan of getting into your pants. But Billy doesn't seem that way, and hey, you like a guy who's modest enough to laugh at himself. "Who are you? Guy-with-his-chest-out?"

Billy laughs out loud at that, and yet he seems not to draw any more attention to himself than he already has. As he does so, he reaches out to flick up the collar of his jacket, and leans on the wall you've got your back to to hover over you.

"Ever seen Lost Boys?"

"Course I have!" Vampires and bloody biker gangs. To say that's not something that piques your interest would be a big, fat lie. "Lemme guess! You're...."

You let your eyes drop to his belt but no further, roam up his chest, and back up to his eyes that haven't left you, his gaze fixated somewhere just below your nose--but when you catch a glimpse of those curly locks tucked over his shoulder, it all comes together and you snap your fingers in thought. "Paul!"

"Got me." Billy winks at you, unmoving and undisturbed as a couple people shuffle by him and you. The music has swelled and fallen to a soft hubbub of guitar from the host's stereo, which makes all the chatter, laughing, and cheering throughout the house sound that much louder in comparison. "Smart cookie. You know your stuff, huh?"

You just shrug, but the grin playing on your lips is unmistakable. You've been enjoying the game of watching and listening to the crowd rather than joining in, aside from a drink or two, but with a little liquid courage in your system and an hour of speaking very little, it's much more fun to entertain the likes of Billy with his pretty blue eyes and smooth, deep voice.

"So, Carrie--who's she? Prom queen by day, butcher by night?"

"You've never seen the movie?" You stand agape, half mocking shock and half real shock. You're struck practically speechless when he shakes his head, and informs you that he's never seen it nor read it. "Dude, you gotta get your life together! It's like--it's just--it's fuckin' awesome!"

Whoa, now you've really gotta pump the brakes. You're doing that thing again where you lose your shit the second someone mentions something you really like--you've nearly crushed the plastic cup in your hand and you're practically vibrating with excitement, plus you know those last few words came out way louder than intended. A couple heads turning to look your way is all it takes to give you that feeling of wanting to curl back into yourself, but it's so hard to help it. You just love horror so much, but it hadn't occurred to you that maybe your obsession is just a bit too weird for the people here.

"Fuckin' awesome, huh?" His tone is teasing, but not on the border of mockery or even close to it. He seems immune to your discomfort at first glance, but the way he moves a little closer, like he's subconsciously trying to shield you, might say otherwise. "What, you gonna leave me hanging? Tell me about it."

Oh. Your chest's tightening up, and your heart is knocking around inside it like a bouncy ball on linoleum. He's got no idea what he's just asked. Don't be too much. "Oh...it's, uh, it's okay. You don't have to, uh...w-we can talk about something else-"

"I wanna hear it." He interrupts, a smile working its way back across his face, and he leans in a little closer. "We can talk somewhere quiet. Get away from the crowd."

'Get away.' Code word for something else, you've been led to believe--this isn't your first party, and Billy isn't the first guy to come flirt with you. But you're not all that bothered, in fact....chatting a little bit about your favourite movies and getting some action with him doesn't sound like a bad deal. Cute, polite, and a little cheeky. Could definitely be worse, although you're not sure how long he'll be able to sit and listen to you talk when he's clearly got something more on his mind.

"I...yeah, that sounds fun. Uh, if I talk too much, you can stop me."

"I like listening to you. You've got a pretty voice." He's rubbing your arm, but keeping his hand level, keeping it away from anywhere else. Before he touched you, you had no idea how cold you were--and now that he is, you're shocked at how warm he is. "So I don't think it'll be a problem, sweetheart."

He whispers that into your ear, a strand of your blood-soaked hair caught in his fingers but not by accident. He pulls it back gently, tucks it out of the way of your face--and leaning in further, you suck in a breath so softly when he kisses you just below your ear. It's a soft spot nobody knows about, not that you ever realized it yourself....not until it's Billy that's teasing it with his teeth, and soothing the tender flesh with a flick of his tongue. All that escapes you is a soft hum, on the brink of a moan, but you manage to keep it in and keep it down to hold some modicum of decency.

"C'mon, Carrie," He draws his hand down the length of your arm, until he captures your wrist and delicately squeezes it while pulling you off the wall. Odds are you won't even notice the mark he left until tomorrow morning, when you're readying yourself in the mirror and gently prodding it with shaky fingers. "Let's go find somewhere to get to know each other."

[jmdbjk]

Life can be fascinating.

Yesterday was something else.

We got Suchwita where Yoongi says "when we come back we might not be as hot..." uhhhhh.... and "we didn't do anything big" YOONGI! MY GOD! STOP BEING SO MODEST!

Hoshi had to say right away "dude, you all did a lot more than that."

Yoongi said things that calmed the anxiety I have about this era of waiting for them to do their service and get back to us.

With every episode I get to know his personality more and more. He long ago totally dispelled (x1000) my very first impressions of him but these Suchwita interviews he does are so beautiful and enlightening.

And now he's on his way to Bangkok to do who knows what...

We got a trailer for Hobi's J-Hope in the Box video on demand on Weverse. I can't wait to watch this documentary. The trailer is showing some very real scenes, much more authentic, along the lines of the previous documentary movies about BTS.

Yes, Hobi, life can be fascinating.

I heard this Disney+ project was a series... are we to expect a documentary like this for every member? And then perhaps a group one right before their group comeback? We don't know yet.

And lastly, as I was closing my eyes to sleep last night, this K-drama playing out in real life in Korea between two major competing entertainment corporations. Armys who have been around since the beginning... this was not on y'all's bingo card for this life time was it? If this deal sticks... the ramifications...

EXO fans... how we feeling today?

I don't think the saga is anywhere near being over. Someone needs to get us some more popcorn because this is the best real life drama we've seen since that slow speed police chase of OJ Simpson's Bronco down I-5 in Los Angeles in 1994.

And to top it all off, my six WKorea magazines arrived. The package was heavy. Probably 10lbs of paper in those six magazines. That's 4.5kg. But they were absolutely gorgeous. I don't regret purchasing all six covers, they are like oversize glossy art prints of Jimin.

I can't read any of it. But the pictures sure are pretty. I may sacrifice one (the close up black and white cover) so I can scan some of the inside photos to share. I will do something with the cover, frame it, display it... it's my favorite.

And I wake up and Jimin's done a live, told us his album is coming in March(!), he could take his clothes off to show us his tattoos but where's the fun in that? <bites fist> He comments about watching the most recent Suchwita and that he would like to appear on Yoongi's show (please, please, please).

Somehow, Jimin has overcome his "awkward" era while doing lives. For over an hour and a half he's chatting, being funny, making plastic flowers, singing, dancing... TO FILTER?! ... ... if Jimin does anything like what Hobi did and sings some of his previous songs... OMFG WE MIGHT FINALLY GET FILTER LIVE!!!!!!I21!!

Honestly, I am expecting Jimin to have something on his upcoming album that will give Filter a run for its money as far as "shock" value.

Of course I will come back with another post after the subs are up on his live.