#it made walking him on those days so much better

[hacash]

#you know I’m a bit lukewarm on starmer personally and I don’t like a lot of the social policy decisions his government has made#but I have been both surprised and impressed by how he’s handled the trump situation and subsequently the trump-Zelenskyy meeting#*that* is what I wanted when I voted for an uninspiring speaker who used to be a human rights barrister!#also#‘keir starmer - who is not a tactile individual if we’re being honest’ fucking took me out#but they’re absolutely correct#he’s neither tactile nor particularly dramatic in his presentation of himself#so you can know 100% for certain that when he does things like whip out a letter from the king mid convo#or walks out into the street in breach of typical protocol to hug someone#that he is very much doing it pointedly and on purpose (via @teacakesanddreams)

I hope you don't mind my sharing your tags, but I think this is a really good example of why voting for the best-not-perfect candidate is important. Like, I don't like some of Starmer's social policy decisions either, but at the end of the day I voted for him and a Labour government because they were better than the alternatives.

And regardless of what you think of anything else Labour has done, you can't deny this weekend has been a class act: not just symbolically but with everything that's been happening with the other European leaders (and Canada) in responding to Trump's absolutely piss-poor response to Russia and Ukraine. I'm sure there'll be things that could go better, but I feel like a lot of what's been done has been done well. But can you imagine the Tories doing as good a job at backing Zelenskyy up in the face of all the bullshit from the White House? Can you imagine Farage's response?

We have Labour in power right now probably because a lot of people looked at them and thought 'well, they're not the best but they're better than the Conservatives and Reform'. If all of those people hadn't made the choice to vote for the best-not-perfect candidate, we'd probably have had one of those two parties in power, and last weekend would have gone very fucking differently.

[gublernatural]

for pop star!reader, bringing him to the grammys perchance? i think it would be silly <3

i love this so im skipping ahead to post-situationship into full blown relationship stage with them <3 my fave duo (also reader is def inspired by my girl t swizzle at award shows and im not sorry about it.)

"you're sure?" you asked one more time, just before the car doors were to open. spencer, whose face was almost as red as the dress you were wearing, sent you an eager nod.

he was torn; stuck between being excited to be by your side, but terrified to be in such a public space. there were days where he was still in awe that he has been able to meet, fall in love with, and now date such a strong, hard-working lady, but days like today he is reminded how much the whole world has come to love his lover.

"then, let's go," you smiled at him, ushering him to step out of the car. he obliged, then reached his hand towards you, helping you out. "thank you," you smiled at him, quickly, and then guided him to the building’s entrance. you waved at your supporters as you walked, still marveling at the impact you’ve been able to make.

you two ended up being split, spencer dragged away to your designated table and you to the red carpet. you took photos and completed interviews as quickly as you could without being impolite. you couldn’t help but feel like you were longing to be back with spencer. despite all of the fun you were able to have, everything just felt better when he was around.

“there you are,” you smiled as you finally made your way to your seat. “how was the carpet?” he asked, sliding your chair out for you. you shrugged in response, turning your attention to the first performer to take the stage.

spencer spent most of the show watching you with starstruck eyes. it was evident, even to those watching from home, how deeply in love spencer truly was with you. there was a literal sparkle in eye as you danced along to each performer, completely and totally enjoying yourself. this was the happiest you'd been in a while. you felt pretty, were at a celebration, and had your favorite person in the world by your side. spencer being in a fancy suit that matched your dress and having his hair professionally done had nothing to do with it, of course.

"this was is yours, right?" spencer whispered into your ear as his arm slipped around your waist. he held you close in anticipation as they introduced your category: best new artist.

this was the biggest moment of your career thus far. sure, awards weren't everything to you, but being recognized for the work you'd put out in somewhere as important as the grammy's would feel so good. you nodded, anxiously, trying to use spencer's proximity to ground you. you hoped the camera that cut to you while you were being named amongst your competitors could see the nerves that were coursing through your veins.

"and the winner is," victoria monet, last year's winner, announced. the world around you turn to static as your name was called into the mic. spencer was up before you were, cheering. tears welled in your eyes, overcome with pride and gratefulness. you hugged spencer and your producer, before heading up to the stage.

"um," you hesitated into the mic after hugging victoria, "i did not think i was going to win this," you laughed. the crowd laughed as well. beyonce was laughing at you. taylor swift was laughing at you. spencer reid was laughing at you. this was the best moment of your life.

"everyone in this category is so amazing and i wish we could split this award eight different ways. thank you to anyone and everyone who has listened to my music and supported me so far. i would not be here if it weren't for you." the first tear slipped from your face and you quickly brought your empty tear up to wipe it.

"thank you to everyone who inspired me and my music, and anyone who laid a hand in creating it with me. my mind is so blank and i can't remember all of your names," everyone laughed again. "and thank you to those i love," your eyes slipped to your table in the crowd. the camera cut to spencer, who had the biggest smile on his face anyone had ever seen. "i wouldn't be here without you guys. thank you and i cannot wait to make more music for you." you ended with a gracious wave to the crowd and cameras, before dashing back to your table.

you threw yourself in spencer's arms again. his cheek smushed against your shoulder as he mumbled, "i'm so proud of you!" you didn't answer, but he felt your smile get impossibly wider against him. after your brief moment of affection, you settled back into his side, excited to see sabrina carpenter's performance.

[hyacinnths]

AMERICAN ECSTASY!

— limited release !

summary: you knew how to throw the best parties. and for jensen, that was no exception. a small yet humble birthday party in your shared home with friends and family. knowing you, you knew how to be unpredictable. instead of cleaning up around the house now with everyone gone; you decide it’s your time to give him the best birthday present he could’ve ever asked for.

warnings: 18+ only. smut, filthy smut! kissing. nudity. unprotected sex. dominant reader. dirty talk. & food play.

♡ word count: 2.1k

you and jensen had a significant age difference. he was older than you but you were both adults and he loved you just as much as you could’ve. dating for a few years now and constantly being surrounded in the world of his fame and the life that came with it.

and what better way to spoil your boyfriend with a birthday party. nothing too extravagant but just filled with the right amount of fun for everyone. you were a perfectionist to say the least and you weren’t going to disappoint at all. especially not for jensen.

breakfast in bed? check. cooking just the best food for jensen and him giving you many kisses. he wanted more but you didn’t let him.

arranging the house? check. he had to film on his own day which meant advantage to place balloons and all decorations. giving you enough time to bake the gorgeous vanilla cake just for him.

rsvp’s weeks prior to his birthday party? check. you made sure to get in contact with your family, his family and his closest group of friends for a cozy birthday celebration.

preparing food and drinks beforehand? check. you had made sure to get the best cuts of meat for a nostalgia barbecue for dinner. making sure to get the best wine and drinks for anyone else to enjoy.

surprising jensen the moment he walked in the door?

check.

the lights all turned off inside. jensen walking into a dark home, only to turn the lights on and reveal everyone shouting surprise to him. and of course, you appearing with the biggest smile on your face.

being showered in hugs. a table filled with various gifts for him. the balloons and decor scattered beautifully around the house. the grill outside with the barbecue all prepared for the guests to eat. surrounded by family and friends and his girlfriend, jensen knew he struck gold with you.

conversations and laughter. stories of jensen when he was a child. party games and some drinking games to hammer down the fun. a proper barbecue and all the side dishes that you had cooked. he doesn’t know how you did it but you certainly didn’t disappoint.

and probably what he loved the most, was the birthday cake. for him, 47 made him feel just much older than he already was. but knowing the support he had— he couldn’t ask for anything else. the beautiful vanilla cake filled with a mix of strawberries and cherries stashed on top. a beautifully written note on the cake just for him. jensen blowing out those candles knowing that he had so much love and support around him.

jensen’s birthday party was a success. another successful record knowing that your boyfriend was happy. but you weren’t entirely happy. yes, you had made the cake and made the barbecue and set everything around the house.

a trash bag in your hand and a broom to make sure that the floor was dusted clean. from the various drinking games or little mess on certain surfaces. you were wearing a long red dress that covered you up fully.

jensen was outside saying goodbye to his parents and to some of his closest friends. you smiled a bit as you briefly glanced out the window. he genuinely seemed so happy and the fact you were the planner for everything made it all better.

picking up a few items into the trash bag and using the broom to get rid of the dust on the floor. hearing the front door of your shared home open before closing with a click. jensen just chuckled behind you a bit as he saw you clean.

“babe. you don’t have to do this all tonight. you’ve already done enough for me. i can clean up here.”

he sighed softly and hugged you from behind. ready to pick the broom and trash bag off your hands, but you protested.

“no. you don’t need to be doing anything else. i can handle it.”

you laughed a bit and turned your head around to look at his handsome face. pressing a few gentle kisses onto his face. being careful to not stain his face yet as the red lipstick you had on was potent as it was.

he hummed gently and surrendered himself.

“fine. i won’t be doing any hard labor tonight then. but, you’ve been rather secretive about my gift from you.”

he spoke as he leaned by the couch. taking a small sip from his glass of wine as he watched you clean.

“that’s because it’s a surprise, babe. the whole party was one big surprise. but, my gift to you is a major surprise.”

you chuckled softly and teased him. now that it was just you two at home. no parents or friends around, that it would be perfect for the second part of the evening.

finally removing all the trash and dusting the floor. heading outside to drop the trash bag off and heading back inside the house.

“alright, babe. now the secret surprise of mine is ready. but first, put this blindfold on. keep it on until I tell you to open.”

you grabbed the black blindfold from the nearby counter. placing it in his palms and a sly smile on your face.

“you’re really unpredictable, you know? but, i trust you.”

he laughed to himself and grabbed the blindfold you placed on his palm. wrapping it around his head and making sure it covered his eyes so the only thing he could see was dark.

once you made sure that he was fully covered, you knew it was showtime.

letting one hand go towards the zipper at the back of the dress. letting the long, red material slip from your body until it reached the floor. revealing the beautiful white corset. lacey material making your body look like heaven. down under, the lace material through a gorgeous garter belt.

the cake was currently resting on the coffee table. quietly walking towards the couch and laying down seductively. reaching over to grab a cherry from the cake and taking a small bite.

“you can take blindfold off, jensen.”

you spoke his name in a small seductive drawl. watching him remove it off. and once he did, he inhaled a breath. his adam’s apple bobbing at the sight of you. you. his gorgeous girlfriend in a corset and garter belt. a sight only for him.

“surprise, my love.”

you whispered and took another sensual bite of the cherry. a bit of the juice hit your cheek a bit. teasing jensen and licking it off with a flick from your tongue.

he was slowly walking over to you. his eyes dead set on you and his lust for you at all high.

“I gotta say.. this might be the best thing ever.”

his chuckle was gravelly that it made your skin shiver. he immediately got on top of you before you surprised him once more and flipped him off so that your body straddled his lap.

“no. let me make this perfect for you.”

you whispered in his ear. taking another bite of the cherry before placing it down. crashing your lips against his in a passionate kiss that made his stomach flutter. kissing you back with that same passion. his hands on your back and running up and down the smooth skin of yours. eyes closed as both of you were kissing each other with the same hunger. but you were being the dominant one this time. his eyes were closed and you were already pleasuring him so easily. his hand went towards your thigh this time. gripping it under his palm as the two of you made out.

moans, gasps, and mouth to mouth kisses. tongues wrapped around each other as the two of you were kissing each other like life depended on it.

pulling away from the steamy kiss between both of you. a sly smirk on your lips. taking another bite of the cherry. a devilish idea forming in your head.

you kept yourself sat on his lap. his hand gripping your thigh and feeling the lace material within his fingers. you grabbed some of the cake frosting. the cake was already cut in half either way. taking some of the frosting in your fingers. placing some of the cold frosting onto the side of your neck. a little on the collarbone. and finishing it off by placing some of the frosting onto your lips.

jensen smirked a bit as he saw the seductive act you were throwing. immediately sticking his tongue out in slow motions and licking off the frosting from your lips before catching them in a kiss. feeling shivers running down your skin.

next, he angled his head over the side of your neck. immediately spreading kisses before sucking onto the spot with the creamy frosting. you moaned softly as you felt the contact of his lips and his tongue darting out to lick off the frosting.

he gently bit along the spot to tease which made your hand instinctively grip his hair within my hand. then, he moved towards the frosting on your collarbone. he let his eyes look up at yours. his tongue darting out and slowly licking off the frosting like a starved man. you bit your lip as the erotic sight was making you wet.

once he finished, he caught your lips once more to kiss you again. this time, his hand went towards the back of your corset to peel it off of you. you didn’t let him stop and you took advantage to remove him off of his shirt. unbuttoning it and peeling it off of him. revealing his chest which would’ve seen so many times. running your hand up and down as you were grinding against his body.

your other hand was sneaky enough to grab a little bit of frosting and placing it by his abdomen. pulling your lips away against his and leaning your head down towards his chest. doing the same eye contact towards his green eyes as you licked him clean like a lollipop. he grunted and his grip on you was tight. his one hand was removing the zipper on the corset and throwing it aside. leaving you topless for him.

being the sneaky devil that you were, you knew he was digging the whole frosting thing. so, you placed some frosting right between your chest. placing some of it on your breasts and right by your stomach. you decided to remove off his belt off and his pants. freeing his aching cock. he smirked as he saw the frosting placed over your upper body.

one hand immediately placed onto his cock which made him hold back a groan. and his lips and tongue immediately hitting the sweet frosting between your breasts. you moaned as you felt his tongue go in rapid motions to lick the frosting off. even wiping it all clean on each breast and down towards your stomach. his eyes filled with so much lust for you.

you gently pumped him in your hand before moving it up and down. he grunted and with one swift motion, he removed off the garter belt. leaving you fully bare for him. he removed your hand and held it back. using his own to move your now bare and wet core so it would be on his cock.

your skin was getting sweaty. your eyes were half lidded as you looked at the man you loved. giving him his birthday present on your behalf.

you moaned, he moaned. the two of you holding each other like a lifeline. his hand running up and down your body as your hands were gripping his back. he reached over the cake. taking a strawberry in his mouth to bite and holding it with his teeth. leaning over to your mouth so you’d bite it from one side and the other and once the strawberry was fully eaten, a kiss so intense and his body hitting all your sweets spot.

“i love this birthday gift, babe… so wet, so dominant, so reciprocal for me.”

he grunted between thrusts as you couldn’t help the sounds of pleasure falling off your lips. you took a breath and smirked at him with a smile.

“anything for my birthday boy.”

you whispered and went even more rough with you thrusting. moving up and down on him like a rodeo. taking all of him like he deserved. the living room filled with grunts, gaps, and moaning in the comfort of your shared home.

you gasped louder as you felt your body give in. your head rolling back and letting yourself release with jensen following right behind you. removing yourself off of his cock. your pussy swollen and probably would be for days. a dazed look in his eyes yet a small smile.

“thank you, baby.”

he spoke as his chest moved heavily as he caught his breath. his arms still wrapped around you as he just held you close to him.

this entire evening was the best moment of his life. you made this the best birthday ever for him.

frida’s epilogue: surprise! I’ve been a bit busy but I’ve been working on a few personal projects. this one is the first smut that I’ve posted on tumblr. of course it’s not perfect and of course this is a work of fiction. i have various different ideas in the works for Dean and other jensen characters that are on my to do list. i still have an overdue valentines release due to me traveling for the month. but, making it up with a jensen smut. happy birthday to grandpa !!(jk) hope you enjoyed reading this little tidbit <3

© HYACINNTHS all rights reserved.

[zepskies]

Here are some of my favorites! (A revamp of my old rec list.) They will span Tumblr, Ao3, and FF.net, as I did a lot of my early reading/writing on other platforms.

Keep in mind, I probably like several fics from each of these authors, but I'm featuring one or two that I very much enjoyed.

SUPERNATURAL FIC RECS

[OS] = One-Shot || [S] = Series || [HC] = Headcanon

Dean Winchester x Reader or OFC:

Stories are Dean x Reader unless noted OFC.

✦ Alisha Ashton

Clear the Area - [S | Excellent 4-part series!] This is the story of you and Dean, and how he manages to slip past your defenses. Written so that you can put yourself in the OC's shoes. Sorta set end S8. Slightly AU in the fact that Dean, Sam, Castiel, Kevin, and YOU all live in the MOL Bunker. Everyone is healthy. Cas is still an adorably clueless angel with zero tact.

✦ @luci-in-trenchcoats

Feral [S] (Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader) Feral is an Alpha’s most dangerous state. Pure raw instinct. A killing machine with no thought. Only an Alpha under extreme duress can submit to their feral side and they rarely can come back out of it. It takes highly specialized rehabilitation to even have a chance at working. When a feral Alpha comes into the reader’s low level rehab facility one night, she knows he’s a dead man walking. But he doesn’t deserve to die and a split second decision to help him escape before that can happen will put them both on the run. He’s no ordinary Alpha though. He’s Dean Winchester. The boy who went missing all those years ago. The boy that made everyone realize no one was safe from the Alpha black market. The man that could destroy them both with one wrong move…

Headcanon: How They Meet Their Plus Size Girlfriend (Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy, and Russell Shaw included)

✦ @deanbrainrotwritings

Wild Flower [OS] Dean gets hit by a spell when fighting a witch and assumes it was harmless or ineffective. He was wrong, but at least he wasn’t dead. He’s a woman now. 

✦ @waynes-multiverse

Creature of the Night [OS] When her car breaks down on a dark lonely road, she is lucky a handsome stranger takes her in. Grateful, she is willing to do anything to repay his kindness.

Headcanon: Valentine's Day (Dean Winchester // Soldier Boy // Beau Arlen // Russell Shaw – Edition) How would your favorite men surprise you for Valentine's Day?

Headcanon: Gettin’ Down and Dirty with Dean Smutty headcanons with Dean...

✦ @rizlowwritessortof

Take a Shot [OS] Let’s face it, his henley looks good on both of you…

Late Night Show [OS] You’re spending a little down time at Bobby’s when HE shows up with his brother. You try to ignore those old feelings for him, but when you accidentally walk in on him pleasuring himself, all bets are off. 

Lost in You [OS] A casual flirtation leads to a violent encounter, and Dean’s reaction is a little more than you expected.

That’s How It Should Be [OS] (Sheriff!Dean x Reader) Sheriff Dean Winchester/Reader have to escape, quick - but Dean won’t let being on horseback stand in the way of showing a lady a good time…

✦ @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

The First Time Series [S] Even though he's a lot older than she is, and more experienced in every possible sense, Y/N finds herself incredibly attracted to Dean Winchester. Amazingly, one day she starts to think that maybe the attraction isn't all one-sided.

The Dangers of Hope [S | Endverse!Dean] When Y/N shows up at Camp Chitaqua with her little girl in tow, her bloodshot eyes leave no doubt that she's infected. Or is she? Everything Dean has come to know for certain over the last five hellish years, is about to be challenged.

It's All For You [OS] After a hunt gone wrong, all Y/N wants is to make Dean feel better. Will he let her?

Things Learned and Unlearned [S] Y/N has spent her life trying to outrun her mother's reputation. When she meets the rich and successful playboy, Dean Winchester, how quickly can he get her to stop running?

✦ Lindsey D. Perez

Say I'm Beautiful [OS] You're feeling a little self conscious about your weight so Dean decides to show you how sexy you are. Dean x Reader Warning: negative body image, swearing Rated M for smut so go forth with caution.

✦ @ejlovespie

It Ain't About Pity [OS] (Dean x Plus-Size!Reader) Dean Winchester has eyes for the reader. She has no idea. When he finally figures out why she’s been dieting, he isn’t pleased. 

✦ kittenofdoomage

More to Love [OS] (Alpha!Dean x Plus-Size Omega!Reader) Reader is a hunter, and an Omega, an unusual combination. She’s always been mocked for her size, so she keeps to herself but a case Garth persuades her to take ends up with a confrontation she never saw coming.

Never Spoken, Always Said [OS] He doesn’t say the words much but he shows her every day.

Taste [S] (Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader) The reader is pregnant with Dean's baby. Spanning the first year or so, we join them as they discover new things about each other.

✦ @impala-dreamer

A Simple Kinda Man Dean’s a pretty simple man. He likes the things he likes and you can rarely get him to change his mind about it. 

Like Heaven (Dean x Curvy!Reader) Y/N’s request might throw him off for a second, but he’s never going to deny her, not when it feels so good in her arms…

✦ @justagirlinafandomworld

Remind Me [OS] (Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader) There was no escaping what happened to you. There wasn’t a magical number of days in which you would simply get over it either. It happened and you had to live with it. But your alpha would never leave you to work through it alone.

Delicate Dean made you feel things no one else ever had. But is it a good idea to see this through?

The Fallout (Alpha!Dean x Beta!Reader) [S] When Sam meets his true Omega, you fear your time with the Winchesters is fated to end. Before they can hurt you, you decide to distance yourself. But Dean isn’t willing to let you get away so easy.

✦ @spnbabe67

Girls, Girls, Girls [OS - Part of a Series] (Dean x OFC) While on a witch hunt Dean gets hit with a spell. Later at the hotel, Dean feels the effects of the spell and Tori has to help him through it.

✦ @chevroletdean

NSFT Alphabet [Dean Winchester] [HC]

Masturbation [Dean Winchester] [HC]

✦ @thatonewriter15

Unspoken [OS] How many reasons are there to love Dean Winchester...?

✦ @iprobablyshipit91

Twenty Minutes or Less [OS] Dean raises an eyebrow at you, cocky smile firmly in place. "I bet I could get you there in twenty minutes or less.”

Magical Blooms [OS] After all, there was a flurry of customers walk through the doors to Magical Blooms each and every day, and quite a number of these were regulars. Just because one of those regulars was an undeniably gorgeous man that flirted shamelessly...

✦ @jawritter

Feral (Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader) [S] True mates don't exist, at least that's what everyone tells you. It's nothing but a childish, fairytale notion to believe that such a person exists. Someone that is made just for you, your person. Who knew they were so wrong…

✦ @marvelfanfn2187a113

Here For You (Dean x Little Sister!Reader) [OS] You help Dean through a couple different kinds of pain.

✦ @deanwinchesterswitch

The Girlfriend Who Remade Christmas [S] Dean’s holiday spirit is nowhere to be found. Fed up with his Grinch-like behavior, Nicole is determined to open his heart again to the wonders of the world around them and help him find joy in the Christmas season.

✦ @spnexploration

Collared [S] Sam and Dean save a woman from where she has been held as a slave by a witch. But things turn dark whenever they try to take her magic collar off, leaving them with a slave to look after and a curse to break.

✦ @kaleldobrev

Old Man [OS - Part of a Series] Dean never had a problem with the age gap between you two; not until now any way.

✦ @deanwritings

Friends with Benefits [S] After walking in on Y/N following a fun encounter, Dean and Y/N decide it would be beneficial and much easier to use each other for their needs. But can they keep it just about sex?

✦ @waywardxwords

Safe [OS] You had hoped to get in and out when you heard what town the next hunt was in. Unfortunately, you can’t outrun your past. You, also, can’t outrun those old feelings--panic, anxiety and fear. You had hoped you’d never have to share this part of your life with Dean, but things don’t always work out the way we had hoped.

Witches [OS] While hunting a witch, you accidentally stumble upon her collection of sex pollen. 

✦ @acreativelydifferentlove

Carry On [S] (Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader) You’re an Omega in a small rural town. When your father’s gambling and drinking leaves him with a debt he can’t afford to pay, he offers you to a group of Alphas. Dean Winchester is an Alpha desperately trying to escape his past and pain. Can you save each other?

You're Home [S] (Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader) After years away at college, you have finally returned to your home town. In order to settle back into the community, you have to seek permission from the Head Alpha. What happens when you see his son for the first time since presenting as an Omega?

✦ @deanwanddamons

Helping Hand [OS] Dean is tired after a hunt, so asks Sammy to drive Baby. You and Dean cuddle up in the back seat.

✦ @mind-empty-just-fictional-people

Love Language [OS] You’ve never said it, neither has he…is that weird?

✦ @pink-sparkly-witch

The Widow [S] Sam and Y/N are happily married, but everything changes after a fatal car accident leaves her a widow. The Winchester motto: “Family Don’t End with Blood,” takes on a whole new meaning for Y/N as she navigates her new normal with the help of her brother-in-law, Dean. But what no one can tell her is what happens when she falls in love again.  

✦ shirleypositive72

While They Dance On A Pin (Jane Series 5) [OS - Part of a Series] (Dean x OFC) Sam, Dean, and Jane have been on the road almost constantly since Dean's return from Hell. They're finding Seals, finding danger, finding out each other's secrets. But it's what they find when they open the door to one more motel room that sends Dean back into his darkest moments. An OC's experience of episode 4x16, On the Head of a Pin.

✦ BeccabooO1O

She's My Cherry Pie [OS] Dean was drunk. So terribly drunk. And it was hilarious. Just some karaoke!Dean (aka the best Dean of them all).

✦ @pamwritessometimes

Roots in My Dreamland [OS] Dean encounters a mysterious forest spirit who’s an enigma.

✦ @supernotnatural2005

Sexual Encounters with Dean Winchester - Edging Exploring new kinks with Dean. How far can you push him before he breaks?

Happy Accidents (Dean x Plus-Size!Reader) You haven't seen the Winchester's in over a year, but the case you're working has you scratching your head, and who better to call than some old friends. However, insecurities arise as well as the reprise of a long time crush. Little do you know, it's reciprocated.

✦ @ambiguous-avery

When He Slides In And says “Fuck, I missed you.” After a hookup with the (in)famous Dean Winchester, you figured that would be the end of it. Too bad you could never seem to get him out of your mind. People always told you that you got attached too easily. And they were right. You were just another notch in his belt. He couldn’t possibly remember you...

✦ @bettystonewell

To You I Belong [S] (Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader) Dean isn’t looking for a mate. Not only does he think he doesn’t deserve one, but the last place he expects to meet his soulmate is while on a case. Fate ain’t real. He still has free will, and saving you from monsters is just another part of the job.

Another Notch on His Belt [OS] Every little part of him is holding onto every little piece of her, and any other woman he’s been lucky enough to escape his life with. Even if it’s only for the night - or - Dean replaces intimacy with sex.

✦ @lamentationsofalonelypotato

It's Not a Big Deal [S] (Dean x Reader x Soldier Boy/Ben love triangle) Dean's in for a rude awakening when he finds out exactly what you did when you got stranded in another universe.

Dean Winchester x Lisa Braeden:

✦ adventuresinposting

Damages [S] Ben is in a car accident causing a fractured skull. Consequentially he remembers Dean. Ben tries to find Dean, who is now a retired hunter after losing Sam in a final battle. This is the story of Dean finding something and someone to replace the hole in his life left by Sam.

✦ FaithDaria

One Step at a Time [OS] The Winchester way of life changes, and Dean adjusts accordingly.

✦ bloodmagik

A Dad By Any Other Name [OS] Ben is sick and Dean stays home with him while Lisa is at work. Lisa learns something about Dean's relationship with Ben.

Sam Winchester x Reader or OFC:

Stories are Sam x Reader unless noted OFC.

✦ Avrilando

While You Were Sleeping - [S] (Sam x OFC) A seriously injured unconscious man is in the hospital Rachel volunteers. With no idea who he is and if anyone is looking for him, Rachel decides to keep him company while he's sleeping. With The Eyes of a Loving Man [S] (Sequel to While You Were Sleeping) Continuing through Sam and Rachel's relationship with all the highs and lows of dating a hunter. Mostly a collection of oneshots and some connecting stories.

✦ Lindsey D. Perez

It's Your Birthday [OS] The Winchester's find out it's your birthday and insist on celebrating with lots of alcohol. Sam introduces you to body shots and things get heated. 

If You Give a Moose a Muffin [OS] ...he'll want kisses to go with it.

✦ ALoversDream

All of Me [OS] (Sam x Plus-Sized!Reader) Request where the reader (even thought she's usually pretty confident) is slightly insecure about her looks, and because she's plus-size. It ends in fluffy weight smut.

✦ BeccabooO1O

Could Have Told You That One, Winchester [OS] Imagine sitting one Sam's lap while you two are researching. She was reading one of the books about mythology for the Winchester's current case when she heard a frustrated groan from across the table. Sam Winchester had his laptop in front of him and various books of lore scattered around it.

✦ @princessmisery666

Samnesia [S] (Sam x OFC) Brooke is a calming distraction from the chaotic mess of Sam’s life. When a hunt keeps them separated for over a month, Sam returns to find she no longer remembers him. The need to find out what happened while he was gone sends Sam on a case that will change the course of his life. What he discovers along the way will change the way he looks at love.

✦ @ohsc

Delicate [OS] Sam being intimate with an inexperienced reader.

**I will keep adding to this list as I read and explore! Please reblog the fics you read and let these amazing authors know what you thought of their work. 💜

I have several more stories favorited on my FF.net account. (Beware if you try to read any of the stories I wrote there though. Some of those are old as hell and not to my current standard. 🤣)

Dean Winchester AU Fic Rec List

Original SPN Fic Rec List

Supernatural Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[nightbutterfly09]

Surprise!!

You were walking home when your phone started ringing. 'My loveee 💕' displayed on the screen. You pick it up with a slightly wide smile. "Hii what's up?" "Want me to drive you home mi amor?" You could hear the flirtatious tone coming from him. You couldn't help but laugh. "Stop joking, you are all the way in Spain."

"Wrong, I'm home, arrived an hour ago" he smirked and you could hear it. "What?" Shock formed on your face and your legs couldn't move an inch.

"You heard right, I am here, anyway I don't need your answer I already have the keys just wait for me." "But S-sae!" You couldn't make anything of the situation. "It's cold so I'm going" with that he hung up. No further words needed.

The hand that was holding your device lowered still trying to process the situation. Time passed while staring at the cars. Each car that looked like his (not that there is a lot) caused your eyes to fill with anticipation. You definitely looked like a teenage girl with some kind of separation anxiety, or at least who was deeply in love.

Not that it was so far from the truth.

Finally the car you've waited for turned inside the parking lot and you ran towards it. You opened the passenger door with a big smile and dropped your bags.

Arms nestled around his neck as he leaned away from the steering wheel. "Someone missed me" he chuckled into your neck, reciprocating the hug. "Why didn't you tell me you're back!!" Although that was more of an excited statement than a question. "It was better this way, no?" He smirked. "Well.. I guess I like this version too." You grinned against him.

He pulled away and raised your chin while looking into your eyes. "I'm back." His gaze softened and wandered around your figure, staying a minute more on your face. He missed you so much that he just couldn't admit that. His days were so poor and emotionless with just those nightly video calls. He does often thank the world that scientists have discovered them. Without those he'd surely die. And he isn't exaggerating.

"I've missed you Sae." And you know very well he did too. The feel of his lips on yours made this moment electric. Dancing together at a fast pace but still not forgetting the passion behind it.

Your love, and his amor. The feeling couldn't be described even by a poet who is famous worldwide. Never in this world could someone find the right words for this feeling. Something out of this world. Bigger than planet Earth.

Something ethereal.

“Let's go home.” He chuckled against your lips finally pulling away. He threw your bags in the backseat. “Oh and I got you something.” He gave you a bag.

A bouquet of flowers towered out of it while it also contained your favorite sweets. “Thank you!!” You giggled happily. Leaning into him again. “I love you.”

“I love you too, mi Vida.”

[saffusthings]

second chances

mob boss! lando norris x reader

part nine: friendship is magic

word count: 1.5k

warnings: none!

eight | nine | ten

Lando had never intended for it to become a habit. 

Habits got people caught. Habits made people predictable. Everyone knows that predictability is a liability.

And yet, somehow, he found himself walking through the door of Books & Brews again. Not every day (he wasn’t that careless). But just often enough that he knew exactly how the shop smelled when the espresso machine had just been cleaned, and how Y/N always hummed quietly under her breath when she was focused.

It was just coffee.

Just coffee.

The coffee here was good. Better than his usual place, certainly – better than any of that overpriced, industrial-strength shit he usually drank. Instead, it was smooth, just bitter enough to wake him up, but warm in a way that settled, almost comfortingly, in his chest. She always got the temperature right, the milk-to-espresso ratio perfect—not too bitter, not too sweet. If he had to choose between an overpriced, burnt-tasting cup from a chain and the one topped with fresh cinnamon and cardamom from Brews & Books, well, the choice was obvious. 

That was why he kept coming back. 

Not for anything else. 

Certainly not for her.

It was just coffee.

And maybe a conversation.

And maybe also the way she smiled at him, like he wasn’t the kind of man who had blood on his hands.

But mostly the coffee.

Lando leaned against the counter, watching as she poured hot water over freshly ground beans, her movements quick and practiced.

He took a sip, savoring the taste—strong, a little sweet, just how he liked it.

She watched him, her head tilted slightly as she seemed to contemplate something. “Do you read? Are you a book kinda guy?”

Lando raised an eyebrow, brought out of his stupor. “What?”

Y/N gestured toward the bookshelves lining the café. “I mean, you come here for coffee, sure, but I’ve never seen you even look at the books.”

Lando exhaled a short laugh, shaking his head. “Not much of a reader, to be honest.”

She made a mock-offended face. “That’s tragic, really.”

Lando smirked. “What do you even read?”

Y/N’s eyes lit up, and Lando immediately regretted asking—because of course she had an answer, and of course she went on a long-winded tangent about different genres, authors, motifs. And God help him, he actually listened.

Lando didn’t mean to keep coming back.

The first time was just because he needed something to sober up. The second time—well, it was on the way. Again, he blamed the coffee.

It was the way she made it, the way the bitterness was perfectly balanced without needing too much sugar, the way the warmth lingered just right against the chill of the morning air.

Yet, somehow, Lando found himself there more often than he probably should.

His schedule was unpredictable—meetings in the early hours, transactions that stretched deep into the night, fights that left his knuckles raw. But still, he stopped by whenever he could, when time allowed.

But those places didn’t come with a girl who looked at him like she believed his name really could be Liam, like she actually believed he was some normal guy who had begun to develop an unreasonable caffeine addiction.

With a moniker like The Reaper, Lando was more than used to being afraid of him. Maybe that’s why it was so intriguing when she looked at him like she was somehow happy to see him.

How odd.

The shop was quiet this time of the afternoon, a few scattered customers tucked into corners with books or laptops. And behind the counter—

Y/N.

She was sorting through a stack of books, pushing up the bridge of her glasses with her wrist when they slid down. Her hair was a bit of a mess today, like she’d been running her fingers through it absentmindedly. The bell above the door chimed as he stepped inside, the warm aroma of espresso and vanilla filling his lungs.

Y/N looked up from where she was restocking the pastry case, her eyes lighting up in recognition. And when she looked up and saw him, she smiled. It was small, barely more than a twitch of her lips, but something about it was… nice. Authentic.

Y/N was behind the counter but her head lifted the second she saw him.

A slow, knowing smile spread across her lips. “Oh, look who it is,” she teased, grabbing a cup without even needing to ask what he wanted. 

“Miss me?” he smirked, leaning against the polished granite.

Y/N scoffed, but there was amusement in her expression. “You wish. I just think if you’re going to be here all the time, I should start charging you rent.”

Lando chuckled, shaking his head. He leaned against the counter, playing it cool. “That’s not how coffee shops work. What if I just like the coffee? Best coffee in town, this is.”

Y/N snorted. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“Not even a free drink?” he asked, dramatically incredulous. The numbers in his account in the Caymans indicated that he could probably purchase this whole shop several times over, but he decided that it was probably best not to mention that.

“Absolutely not.” She set a fresh cup in front of him anyway, watching as he took a sip. She hummed, scribbling something on a notepad before tearing it off and sliding it toward him. “Well, I was going to offer you a frequent customer punch card, but if it’s just the coffee, maybe I won’t...”

Lando stared at the scrap of paper. Sure enough, she had doodled a crude little version of one—ten boxes, half of them already checked off, complete with a lopsided drawing of a coffee cup.

His lips twitched.

“You really made this just now?”

Y/N shrugged, grinning and clearly proud of herself, but pushing her glasses up her nose out of habit. “I like to be prepared.”

Lando let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah? ‘N what’s the prize when I fill it up? “...My undying friendship?”

Friends?

His brain had short-circuited a little at the casual way she had said it, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like it was something he should have expected.

She didn’t say it with suspicion. Didn’t look at him like she was piecing together the cracks in his story. No, she just said it like it was obvious.

Like he was just some guy who wanted to spend time with her.

Lando had no business having a friend like her.

Lando exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “You’re something else, you know that?”

She crossed her arms. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

This wasn’t supposed to happen. She wasn’t supposed to make him smile like that. Lando, who spent so much of his time analyzing humans and their microexpressions, couldn’t believe he didn’t realize it sooner.

She thought they could be friends.

Before he could even think twice, he reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and slid it across the counter. “Give me your number,” he said smoothly. “In case I ever want to pre-order my coffee.”

Y/N hesitated for just a second, her eyes flickering to his before she let out a small laugh. “That’s the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard.”

“Did it work?”

She rolled her eyes, but still, she picked up the phone to type in her number. 

“This only solidifies our never ending friendship. You know that, right? ”

Much to his own disappointment, he smiled. “That so?”

She nodded. “I mean, I do know your coffee order by heart, and we’ve had like… five whole conversations. That’s practically marriage in some places.”

Lando forced another signature smirk, ignoring the way something unsettled coiled low in his stomach. “Didn’t realize we had a whole thing going on.”

Get it together, Norris.

Y/N laughed, propping her elbows onto the counter. “You’ve been here, what? Four times just this week?”

Three. But who was counting?

“That’s gotta mean something, I’m telling you,” she teased, eyes flickering with playfulness.

Lando huffed, shaking his head as he reached for his coffee. He could play this off. He would play this off. He didn’t do friends. Not real ones. The people in his life existed for a purpose. Business partners. Associates. Soldiers. A hierarchy built on control, loyalty, and utility.

Not this.

Not her.

And yet, he didn’t correct her.

Instead, he exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “You talk too much.”

Y/N only laughed.

“Sure,” he then drawled sarcastically, lifting the cup slightly in a mock toast. “Guess that makes us friends then.”

Y/N beamed, like she had won something, before typing her number in with an ease that made Lando feel sick with himself. She then held her phone out with that same expectant smile, waiting for him to type his own number in.

She had no idea what he was, who he was.

Lando looked down at the screen, at the saved contact and told himself he wasn’t making a mistake. Objectively, he knew he shouldn’t be doing this. He was being selfish. He was putting her in danger just by existing near her.

But he was good at lying.

Even to himself.

For now, he told himself that he could have both lives.

For now, he convinced himself that nothing would go wrong.

a/n: made you guys wait, so i think today will be a double update day! i'm excited for the next one :)

[sturnsblogs]

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆More than best-friends‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Chapter 7: Distance

Chris tried to convince himself he was fine.

That night, after Avery had made him choose, he laid in bed staring at the ceiling, his thoughts running in circles. He told himself he’d done the right thing. He chose his girlfriend. That’s what he was supposed to do, right? That’s what a good boyfriend does—he prioritizes his relationship.

So why did it feel like he had lost something?

He hadn’t spoken to you in over a month, and now he wasn’t allowed to. The silence, once just an ache in the background, had turned into something suffocating. Every time he unlocked his phone, his fingers hesitated over your contact. He still had your number memorized, still knew exactly what he would say if he got the chance. But he wouldn’t.

Because Avery would know.

And he couldn’t go back on his word.

So instead, he distracted himself. He spent every free moment with Avery, texting her constantly, answering her calls the second his phone buzzed. He made sure she had no reason to doubt him. And it worked—at least on the surface.

Avery was happy. She was glowing, smug in the knowledge that Chris had picked her. She would randomly grab his hand and squeeze it, kiss his cheek out of nowhere, make little comments like “See? Things are better now.” And Chris would nod, forcing a smile, pretending he believed it too.

But the guilt gnawed at him.

He hadn’t realized how much he depended on you until you were gone. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed those late-night conversations, those inside jokes, those moments where he could just be himself without worrying about saying the wrong thing.

With Avery, everything felt like a test now.

One wrong move, one hesitation, and she’d look at him like she was waiting for a reason to doubt him again.

And then, one day, he saw you.

It was a random afternoon in June, and Chris was walking through the parking lot after grabbing lunch with Avery. She was talking about something—he wasn’t really listening—when his eyes landed on you across the lot.

You were laughing at something, your head tilted back slightly, the way you always did when something genuinely amused you. And just for a second, everything else faded.

Chris stopped walking.

Avery noticed immediately.

Her grip on his arm tightened. “Chris,” she said sharply.

He didn’t respond.

You hadn’t seen him yet, but that didn’t stop the wave of emotions that crashed into him all at once. He missed you. He missed you so much it physically hurt.

Avery followed his gaze, and when she saw you, her grip turned vice-like. “Seriously?” she snapped.

Chris flinched, snapping out of it. “What?”

Avery scoffed. “You’re staring at her like a lost puppy. Are you kidding me?”

Chris clenched his jaw, looking away. “I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you were.” Avery pulled him forward, her nails digging into his wrist. “Come on. We’re leaving.”

Chris hesitated, glancing back once more.

And that’s when you looked up.

For the first time in over a month, your eyes met.

His breath caught in his throat.

But before he could say anything, before he could even process the look on your face—surprise, sadness, something else—Avery tugged him forward, breaking the moment completely.

He let her.

Because what else could he do?

That night, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

Chris lay awake, staring at his phone, his fingers hovering over your name. The urge to call you, to hear your voice, to tell you everything—he could barely breathe past it.

He sat up, raking a hand through his hair. Screw it.

Before he could overthink it, he grabbed his hoodie, shoved it on, and slipped out his window.

The walk to your house felt like a blur, his heart pounding harder with every step. He knew this was wrong. He knew Avery would lose her mind if she found out.

But he couldn’t not see you.

When he reached your house, he didn’t hesitate. He climbed up the way he had so many times before, slipping through your window with ease.

You were sitting on your bed, scrolling through your phone. The second you saw him, your eyes widened.

“Chris?”

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Hey.”

You stared at him like you couldn’t believe he was really there. “What are you doing here?”

Your expression hardened. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I know. But I didn’t know where else to go.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “You were always the person I went to when things got bad.”

You looked away, exhaling shakily. “That’s not my role anymore.”

Chris’s stomach twisted. “I don’t want to lose you.”

You met his gaze, and for the first time in over a month, he saw it—the hurt. The anger. The betrayal.

“You already did.”

Chris felt like the air had been knocked from his lungs. His breath came out shaky, uneven. “No, I didn’t. I—I didn’t have a choice. Avery—she made me, she said—” He was scrambling now, desperation creeping into his voice. “She said if I loved her, I wouldn’t pick you, and—” He exhaled sharply, raking his hands through his hair. “I didn’t want to, I swear I didn’t want to.”

You shook your head. “But you still did.”

Chris took a step closer, his hands shaking. “I had to. She said I already lost you.” His voice cracked. “But I didn’t want to. I never wanted to.”

You stared at him, your arms wrapped around yourself like you were trying to hold something together. “Chris…”

“Please.” He stepped closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t do this. I—” He inhaled sharply, his eyes glassy. “I don’t know how to do this without you.”

You exhaled, closing your eyes for a moment. When you opened them, you looked tired. “You should’ve thought about that before you left me.”

Chris clenched his jaw. “I didn’t leave you. I was forced to—”

“No.” Your voice was firm. “She might’ve given you an ultimatum, but the choice was still yours.”

Chris looked away, his breath uneven. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”

You let out a small, bitter laugh. “And look where that got us.”

Chris swallowed hard, shaking his head. He was losing you. He already lost you.

But he couldn’t accept it.

“Please.” His voice broke. “I don’t care about any of it anymore. I just need you.”

You hesitated. Just for a second.

But then, you shook your head. “You should go, Chris.”

Chris opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

You turned away.

And that’s when he knew.

It was over.

For the first time, he didn’t just feel like he lost you.

He knew he had.

A/N- I teared up just a bit.

My beautiful babies- @blushsturns @chrislilcumslvt @izzylovesmatt @chrisslut04 @mylittled0ve @oopsiedaisydeer @csturnioloswifey @just-a-girl-1 @sturdyyolo

CHAPTER 6

TAGLIST TO MASTERLIST

[stellacartography]

Day 5 Anticipation | Nonsense | mail

Day 6 Declaration | gregarious | duet

Greg scrubbed at his empty mug, powering the tea stains off the ceramic with the full force of his frustration. He'd managed to put up with Sherlock’s wistful glances and John's mooning and all their ill-timed soppy nonsense for a whole twenty minutes before he called a halt to the proceedings. Those two were ridiculous. How they managed the level of oblivion to one another's... sentiments, as Sherlock might word it, was beyond him.

"Unnecessary." Sherlock was a first class berk and Greg wanted to send him out of the kitchen with a sign saying 'Kick me' sellotaped to his back.

Though perhaps 'Kiss me' would be a better command. 'Snog me senseless.'

"You'll have to be more specific, there," Greg sighed.

"Washing your own cup. There are other dishes to be done. You're not saving us much bother."

Greg rinsed the mug and dried it. "Wrong."

"I beg your pardon?"

"What's unnecessary is the two of you circling one another. You gazing at him when you don't think he's looking. Him watching you when your back is turned." He kept his voice low but knew it might carry. At this stage he was beyond caring.

Sherlock's eyes grew wide. "What are you saying?"

Greg dried the mug put it away none too gently in the cupboard where he'd found it. "I'm saying I'm tired of watching you two moon over each other. Go in there and snog the daylights out of him. I need your loo and then I'm off."

After drying his hands, Greg opened the bathroom door. As he stepped out into the hall he could hear voices; John and Sherlock speaking in low tones just out of earshot. Greg walked softly back into the kitchen, not wanting to interrupt any crucial declarations.

As he entered he caught the tail end of Sherlock’s murmured statement.

"... Tell you how I feel for you."

The two were no longer in their chairs but had moved to the sofa. Greg couldn't see them but their voices carried easily in the quiet flat.

"And how's that?" John sounded the right blend of intrigued and playful. A good sign.

"Surely even you must have noticed."

Don't botch it, mate, Greg thought.

"Even if I have noticed, I'm going to make you say it."

Good on John. Made for each other, those two. Really Greg should leave. He'd done everything he could.

"I adore you, John Watson. As passionate as I am about the work, it is nothing to how fulfilling my life has been with you. You give meaning to the work, you give purpose to the mundanities of living, you even make the boredom worthwhile."

Of course Sherlock couldn't say something as obvious as 'I love you', it had to be a grand speech. Still, his words were effective. Even Greg felt a little echo in his heartstrings at the confession.

"Was that so hard?" John teased.

"Mortifying."

"I love you, too, berk. Come here."

Greg heaved a quiet sigh into the silence that filled the flat. He wasn't sure if he should say his goodbyes and walk out through the sitting room door to the landing or if he'd be better off unlatching the squeaky kitchen exit. The last time he'd tried that way, Mrs Hudson had heard it all the way in the back of her flat and had dashed halfway up the stairs to protect her beloved lodger.

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@fluffbruary @lisbeth-kk @totallysilvergirl @etrebko @hot-on-my-watch @actually-a-girls-name @missdeliadilisblog @helloliriels

[meadowfics]

carebear

berlin (song jung-ho) x f!younger!reader

based off of this request here for fine shyt

warnings: reader is between 20-23 and berlin is his canon age, 41. this is a care bear if you do not know what a 'carebear' is

when you first joined the team, berlin was nothing more than a distant authority figure that you've happened to come across.

he kept to himself, barked orders with that effortless charm of his, and never really acknowledged you beyond what was necessary. you didn’t mind.

he was intimidating, older, too refined in ways that made you feel like you didn’t belong in the same world as him.

then, one day, he decided to teach you how to shoot a gun when you've revealed to the group that you've never shot one.

throughout your crimes, you used your hands and your many knifes. never a gun.

“you’ll need it,” berlin had said simply, handing you the weapon with that unreadable expression of his.

“it’s better to learn from me than to get yourself killed fumbling with it.”

so, you learned and somewhere between those lessons, between his patient instructions and your stubborn determination... you got closer.

late-night talks became a thing. when the others were asleep or too distracted with their own conversations, you and berlin would find yourselves sitting together, talking about everything and nothing at the same time.

he never said too much about his past, always skimming over the details with vague answers, but you could tell.

you could tell there was something there, something dark and unspoken that lingered beneath his carefully crafted exterior.

so one night, as a joke, you handed him your stuffed animal that you brought inside of the mint with you.

it is a blue care bear you had since childhood, a gift from a family member who had long passed.

“here,” you had said, grinning, “for emotional support.”

berlin had scoffed, rolling his eyes, but he didn’t give it back right away.

instead, he held it, staring at it for a long moment before murmuring, “i never had a childhood.”

it slipped out, just like that.

suddenly, the joke wasn’t so funny anymore.

so, you left it with him.

“well, I guess it’s yours now,” you had told him, voice softer than usual, “i think you need it more than me.”

he didn’t argue.

he didn’t say anything at all, just gave you a look that you couldn’t quite place before walking away with the bear still in his hands.

a day later, the moment the care bear was spotted on berlin’s bed spot, the chaos began.

“wait, wait—what the fuck?” tokyo’s voice rang out first, eyes wide as she pointed at the small, blue bear resting on berlin’s pillow.

“is that—”

“no fucking way,” rio laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.

“that’s cairo’s bear.”

“no it can’t be,” nairobi chimed in, folding her arms.

“cairo would never give that away. it’s their first ever stuffed animal. it’s, like, sacred to them.”

moscow, ever the calm one, eyed berlin with suspicion.

“so, what, you stole it?”

denver, brows raised, looked between the bear and berlin like he couldn’t decide if this was hilarious or horrifying.

“man, cairo’s gonna kill you.”

before anyone could escalate things further, you walked in.

“what’s going on?” you asked, noticing how everyone suddenly turned to stare at you like you were holding the key to some great mystery.

nairobi wasted no time.

“cairo, did you give berlin your care bear?”

berlin, standing beside his bed, merely watched you, waiting for your reaction.

you blinked.

“yeah. why?”

silence.

tokyo was the first to break it.

“you did what?”

“why the hell would you give it to him?” denver added, “that thing was, like, your most prized possession.”

you glanced at berlin, finding him watching you closely, his expression unreadable as always, “because he needed it.”

that was all you said because to you, it was simple.

to berlin, it wasn’t.

for the first time in years, maybe in his entire life, he felt cared for in a way that had nothing to do with power or control. you had given him something that meant the world to you, not out of obligation, not out of manipulation, but because you wanted to. you saw something in him that even he struggled to see in himself.

suddenly, all those strange, unfamiliar feelings he had about you made sense.

he wasn’t just fond of you.

he was in love with you and things changed after that.

it was subtle at first. berlin was softer with you, more attentive in ways that the others barely noticed but you felt every second of the day.

he started lingering when you talked, his fingers brushing against yours when he handed you something, his voice quieter when he spoke to you.

he started looking at you differently.

eventually, in the quiet moments between the chaos inside of the mint, he kissed you.

the kiss slow, deliberate, like he had all the time in the world.

and for once, maybe he did.

the others are occupied, discussing strategy, bickering over details, but you and berlin find yourselves alone in one of the back rooms of the mint.

the dim light casts shadows over his sharp features, and there’s something unreadable in his eyes as he looks at you.

“you’re tense,” he murmurs, stepping closer.

you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest.

“of course i’m tense. we’re in the middle of one of the biggest heists, and oslo dying didn't make that feeling easier...”

“ah, but you hide it well,” he says, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

“better than the others, at least.”

berlin's voice is lower than usual, softer. there’s something different in his posture, something deliberate about the way he closes the distance between you.

the older man's hand reaches out, tracing the back of his fingers along your jaw, barely touching, just enough to make your breath hitch.

“berlin,” you start, but the way he looks at you, as if you’re something he’s trying to memorize, steals whatever else you were going to say.

he tilts his head slightly, studying you, before murmuring, “tell me if you don’t want this.”

you don’t hesitate.

instead, you close the space between you, fingers tangling in the collar of his pink suit (that matches yours) as you pull him down to you.

berlin's lips meet yours slowly at first, testing, but the moment he feels you melt into it, his control snaps.

one hand cups the side of your face, fingers threading into your hair, while the other finds your waist, tugging you flush against him. he kisses like he does everything else...with intention, with precision, like he’s savoring every second.

you kiss him back just as fiercely, matching him beat for beat, pressing up on your toes to get closer, to feel more. berlin's hand tightens on your waist, grounding you, claiming you.

when you part for air, he doesn’t let you go, his forehead resting against yours and your nose touching his, his breath fanning across your lips.

“cairo,” he murmurs, voice rougher now, raw in a way he never lets the others hear, “you’re going to be the death of me.”

you smirk, still breathless. “good. that makes two of us.”

the way berlin looked at you, with that smirk of his... of course you leaned back in without hesitation, hands gripping the lapels of his suit as you press your lips against his again, deeper this time.

berlin meets you with the same hunger, his fingers tightening at your waist, sure to leave bruises as he is pulling you flush against him.

the kiss is slow but consuming, his lips moving against yours with practiced ease, like he’s unraveling you one touch at a time.

the large hand of his slides up your back, his fingers tracing along your spine, sending a shiver through you. the warmth of his palm settles at the nape of your neck, his thumb brushing over your jaw as he tilts your head, deepening the kiss.

he kisses like he owns you, like he’s memorizing the shape of your lips, the way you sigh softly into his mouth when he bites gently at your lower lip before soothing it with his tongue.

berlin's other hand drifts lower, gripping your hip, steadying you as he walks you back a step until your spine presses against the wall.

the shift only makes the kiss more urgent, your bodies molded together as he explores your mouth with slow, deliberate strokes of his tongue.

you feel the way his breath hitches when you slide your hands up his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his suit, holding him there like you never want to let go.

he moves like he’s savoring the moment, like he’s taking his time, even as the tension between you coils tighter.

the way he kisses you... thorough, possessive, like he’s letting himself lose control for the first time, makes your heart pound in your chest.

berlin's lips leave yours only to ghost over your jaw, trailing soft, heated kisses along the column of your neck, before he pulls back just enough to look at you.

the man's breathing is now uneven, his pupils blown wide with something unreadable, but he doesn’t step away. instead, his forehead rests against yours, and neither of you move, caught in the heavy silence of everything.

the next day:

inside of the mint, things were intense. you finally got the see the inspector face to face, where she wanted to make sure all of the hostages were okay.

after the whole thing, berlin always made sure you were taken care of.

if there was ever a moment of downtime, he would bring you water, insist you eat, remind you to take breaks even when you insisted you were fine. berlin's way of caring was subtle, but you could feel it.

when the professor sent orders, berlin always made sure you weren’t in the line of fire from his brother, always keeping an eye on you from across the room. you never were, since you were actually a favorite of the professors.

“you did well today,” berlin came up to you, voice softer than the others ever got to hear.

“so did you,” you’d reply, watching the way his face eased when he was alone with you.

sometimes, when the nights stretched long, and the weight of the heist pressed against your shoulders, berlin would let you lean against him, his arm a steady weight around you.

“you know,” he murmured once, as you rested your head against him, “i never thought i’d meet someone like you in a place like this.”

you tilted your head up to look at him.

“what the hell does that mean?”

all he did was look air you, before turning his head away with that smile of his.

you smiled, knowing that berlin is not known for vocalizing his romantic feelings.

suddenly, you lift your head, murmuring, “oh, wait, i forgot something.”

berlin watches as you stand, stretching slightly before stepping away, disappearing into the adjoining room.

when you return, the small blue care bear is cradled in your hands, the same one you had given him days ago.

you don’t say anything, just press it against his chest before climbing onto his lap, settling against him with ease.

berlin doesn’t argue, doesn’t question it.

instead, he lets you tuck yourself into him, his arms wrapping around you as you bury your face against his shoulder, already beginning to drift.

the older man's fingers move lazily over your back, soothing, grounding, as your breathing evens out, sleep claiming you in the safety of his embrace.

he stays awake for a while, watching you, taking in the way your lashes rest against your cheek, the way your fingers are curled around the bear as if it’s second nature.

there’s something strangely soft about the whole moment, something he’s not used to...something he never thought he’d want. here you are, trusting him enough to fall asleep in his arms, giving him a piece of yourself without hesitation.

the weight of that realization settles in his chest, heavy yet welcome.

eventually, he exhales slowly, shifts slightly, and lets his eyes close, deciding, just this once, to rest inside of the mint.

masterlist

[splinterofpandora]

Batman is dead.

I know it sounds vulgar.

Oh, you didn't like one comic book and now the character doesn't exist for you. Come on, we go through this every day! Stop clowning, you're not Joker!

But they actually did it in 2023. A year later, I realized exactly what happened. And I think I know how to change it. Hold on, because I'm going to tell you who Bruce Wayne was, and why death was good for him.

Chapter one. This is where the story begins.

Ok, we all know that. The alley. The boy next to his parents' bodies. No one hears his tears. A promise by the bedside. The training. Criminals are a superstitious cowardly lot. The Bat.

We rarely talk about Thomas and Martha because it was never their story. It was the story of a boy who found the meaning of life...no, at this stage, of existence...in fighting Evil. It was 1940s. The early years of The Dark Knight, in terms of plot, emphasized the common person's ability to overcome challenges and help those who cannot defend themselves. At first, the reader saw a “cool and intimidating” costume. The vigilante in action.

However, diving into the text we find that this Frightening Guardian is very...soft. He stays and tends to the victims of crime. Doesn't let people get discouraged. He is feared by criminals. He doesn't mind much that the police can do it either. But he's not an enemy of the society.

Later, Robin shows up. Alfred. Batwoman. Batgirl. The League...

But Batman remains their friend too. And so does Bruce Wayne, who...started life in the 1950s.

Chapter Two. Creating Identity.

Until about the early 70's(I'm using decades for simplicity, the actual timeline is a bit different) Batman's adventures explored the big issues people care about - corruption, war, crime. The wrapping of this was removed from reality. Took the form of evil clowns, spies in funny costumes, even aliens. Comics didn't want to pour complex things over our heads in their purest form.

But the important thoughts, the problems themselves and their possible solutions, along with the dreams of Mankind (flying cars, new discoveries in medicine, exploring the world), have always been the theme of the issue. For this reason, most of the dialog was directed at external things. The characters showed themselves through their actions.

We saw that Bruce can truly doubt, worry, and do crazy things. But he always cares about his young partner and wants to give him the best of what he himself has. Often in his interactions with Dick, Wayne shows pride in his son, his support. Many times he even risked Batman's life to save Grayson. And yes, the idea of separating man and suit, outside of formalities, didn't exist back then.

The idea of a billionaire wasn't a big deal yet, and 99% of the problems were solved by the masked vigilante, while the rich guy was a good cover for gathering information, which he did in the first issues.

Comics and media(audio, animated series, books) that recall this period especially emphasize the moment of complete father-son trust. As the point of supreme discovery of Bruce Wayne's mind. He wants to see a world where people are friends with each other. Openness. Sincerity. Idealism without drifting into absurdity. This is the Bruce Wayne of DC's first 30 years.

Chapter Three. Flowers are better than batarangs.

It's ironic, but with the visual darkness (relative to earlier works), 1970's Knight was the perfect middle ground between Bruce and Batman. The conflict of concepts was not yet seen from the angle of falling into darkness, but made many, not always consciously, afraid of their own protector.

My words should not be taken too literally. Gotham loved him. He openly cooperated with the police. Easily walked through the door of people's homes if invited. However, he could also be tough on crime and move like a shadow. That was troubling. But Batman doesn't cross the line. He's too kind. Everyone knows that.

Bruce is finally the man we know. Playful and frivolous, but the rich who loves beneficial initiatives for the city and its residents by day. And caped crusader by night.

He adores his children, starts many foundations and even a detective agency to help those in need and make police work easier. At the same time, Bruce's personal life is also going well. The authors are constantly looking for the man to be the love of his life, and the idea of retirement with the possibility of helping the world in some other way, without the cape, is increasingly glimpsed in stories about a possible future.

Unfortunately, the picture limit does not allow the narrator to continue his never ending battle, and so he will continue in the next post!

P.S. That and other themed post can be found under BrightKnightUpcoming tag.

[egrets-not-regrets]

Broken Knitting Needles

Phaethorn (chaos Emperor's Children) was sad due to broken knitting needles and visits his favourite yarn shop.

Author's Notes: I thought of this character when I went to a yarn shop. Since Slaanesh is the god of excess, there's no say as to what the excess can be. So this Emperor's Children chaos marine indulges in comfort and colour discovered knitting, crocheting, and yarn, and yarn shops. He's a yarn hoarder.

Tagged: @shadowfirecat , @kit-williams , @bleedingichorhearts , @barn-anon , @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@sleepyfan-blog , @bispecsual , @c-u-c-koo-4-40k , @ms--lobotomy

@gra93fruit-blog , @i-am-a-dragon34 , @felinisnoctis, @thevoidscreams, @yurihasurunbara

“Hello, Phaethorn!” Margaret called out, seeing the spiky shape of the Emperor’s Children space marine at the door. He walked in, his movement a little sluggish and his shoulders slumped, a contrast to his normally proud and energetic self, and not even a replied greeting this time. The storekeeper walked over to the chaos marine, looking concerned, “What’s got you so glum? You normally flit around to squish the yarn by now.”

She was then surprised by/shown/greeted by/presented with the most forlorn look that she had ever seen on an Astartis. It does look a little strange with Phaethorn being a chaos marine, but somehow his doleful sad eyes made him look like a sad puppy, as much as a chaos space marine could look like a sad puppy. 

The Emperor’s Children marine lifted his hands and showed her the source of his angst, “My knitting needles broke.” He pouted. 

“You poor dear!” He let Margaret take his hands in hers to examine. Phaethorn normally knits using his long fingernails when he joins in on their knitting circle meetings. It seemed a little strange, but no one was brave enough to ask the chaos marine. How tragic, having those nails broken must be quite upsetting, “How did you break your nails?” she asked. 

“Training.” Phaethorn grumbled, he knew better, and his brother-cousins told him that his long nails were an inconvenience, but he was so proud of his nails as they were both decoration and his natural weaponry. And also his knitting needles. It was so infuriating when his stupid brother-cousin broke his nails during sparring. He probably did it to prove his point, Phaethorn thought petulantly. It would take him three weeks for his nails to grow that long again. 

Margaret patted his hand sympathetically, “That’s quite unfortunate, but I know something might perk you up. We have the colour lot of yarn that you ordered and… it’s restocking day!” 

Phaethorn brightened when she mentioned his order arriving and restocking the store. He wondered what colours and texture that the new yarn products would be, Hopefully not that shiny metallic novelty yarn though. They come in a wide variety of colours but the texture is too scratchy, making it irritating to work with. Nothing like the soft buttery texture of the alpaca yarn. 

The Emperor’s Children marine followed Margaret to the boxes at the back of the shop. As they opened the boxes of new stock, Phaethorn’s mood lightened. Inside the boxes were a rainbow of the alpaca blend yarn from Titmouse Nest Fibre Mill, which was one of his favourite yarn companies. His hands dug into the packages and pulled out the colourful yarn to squish happily. Those are the most comfortable yarn to sleep on and knit with, mostly to sleep on though. He pursed his lips as he put the yarn he wanted aside. His bed (and room) was getting rather full with yarn, he’ll have to knit some of that yarn up and so he can replace the yarn with the squishier ones on his bed. But his nails are broken… 

Margaret watched the chaos marine. She was rather fond of him, Phaethorn reminded her of newbies who just joined the hobby, all excitable, looking forward to working with different yarn, coming up with different things to make, and happily browsing all the yarn in the store. She had a few Astartes customers, but none who visited as often as Phaethorn did. At first, he just bought yarn from the store, but then he joined their knitting/crocheting circle meetings occasionally, wanting to learn how to knit. His appearance took some time for their group to get used to, but he soon endeared himself to them; with even some of the elder folks treating him like their grandchild.

She then patted his arm, “Phaethorn, how about you help me shelf these yarns and I’ll show you how to use knitting needles, we have Astartes sized knitting needles that would work better for you. And you can take a few pairs and some of the yarn home for free.”

Phaethorn grinned and quickly picked up a few boxes of yarn, “Ok.” He wasn’t going to turn down free knitting needles and squishy yarn. 

[pure-oddity]

Appreciating the concept of love and how its power can change something - until it actually happens.

Toy boyfriend part 3

(Pt.1)

(Pt.2)

A doll one moment, a (albeit toy sized) man the next.

He isn't, and then -somehow, he is.

His first moment of consciousness goes by quickly. He knows who he is, doesn't know where he is, has a vague idea of what he was doing, and then you.

From the start, you're wonderful. Your hands are far gentler than a man like him is used to. Your voice soft and awe filled. You fawn over him, cooing like he's something precious.

It doesn't hurt that you're beautiful. He couldn't have dreamt up someone more perfect. Well. He would have atleast made you more his size.

Days spent in his case are everything and nothing. Nothing, when you aren't around to prattle on and flounce around your room. Nothing is when he thinks too much and too hard about his existence. Where he becomes aware of how he lacks (can't move, can't talk, can't smell, can't breathe, can't touch you-)But then you walk in, and everything seems lighter. You giggle when you see him, like theres a joke he doesn't get, but you sound so cute when you do it he forgives you.

Wishes he could ask.

You tell him about your day, the coworkers and managers you don't care for. The customers that agitate you. You insist on turning him around when you change, useless as it is. Glass is reflective, love, and he can't avert his eyes let alone close them. But he pretends he can't see anyway, because it makes you more comfortable.

He looks down at his boots , at the plastic wear that's been painted on. Laces tight and neat. Comfortable-

-he's looking down at his shoes. down. He's looking down at his shoes.

It starts with the eyes. First he looks down, then up. Left , right. Then he blinks, gets good at it.

It's not long before his first twitch, his first weight shift and then his first breath. And then he's moving. He returns to his spot, unwilling to scare you. But he moves, paces really. Especially at night, where he keeps his footsteps light and his senses alert (just started feeling them again, a wonderful thing those).

He likes to think his vigilant watch helps you sleep better at night.

He's content for awhile like this. Your tiny,not so silent(he can say your name and his, he's been practicing), body guard. His inability to protect you only starts to bother him when you start dating.He doesn't like any of your picks. They're either not good enough, or down right rotten.

And, after all, he's your boyfriend.

You've said as much, many times infact. The spot belongs to him (your man, your toy soldier, your handsome guy, yours like you're his-).

It's when you leave for work one day that the world shifts again.

And he stares into the case, instead of out of it; Larger and more real then he's ever been.

[ladykissingfish]

*Deidara walks into the kitchen to find Hidan sitting at the table with his head in his hands*

Deidara: Oi, what’s the matter with you, hm? Finally figured out that your God is fake?

Hidan: Shut up, asshole. I had waaaay too much to drink last night, and —

Deidara: Let me guess, you’ve got a hangover? Tsk; you need to learn to hold your liquor better, so this stops happening.

Hidan: The hangover ain’t the problem! The problem is, I’m ninety-nine percent sure that I made out with mask-boy last night!

Deidara:

Deidara: You … made out, with Tobi?

Hidan: Yeah. I don’t know what happened! We were out here slamming down shots and suddenly his mask was off and our mouths were wrestling!

Deidara: 

Deidara, shaking with anger: Hidan. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now, hm.

Hidan: What the — are you serious?? You can’t be mad at that, you don’t even like that guy! You complain about him all the time! So why —

Deidara: *shoots his hand out and grabs Hidan around the neck* That doesn’t fucking matter, you absolute dumbass. Tobi is MINE. One day his persistence is gonna wear me down and we’re going to start dating. I’ve been preparing myself for that day. *tightens his fist* YOU’RE NOT GONNA MESS UP MY FUTURE LIKE THIS, you arrogant shit! 

Hidan, starting to black out: B-blondie — c-can’t b-breathe …

*Tobi walks into the room*

Tobi: S-senpai? What are you —

*Deidara let’s go of Hidan and pushes Tobi against the wall*

Deidara: You bastard! You know damn well that you are MINE, you rotten lousy Uchiha!

Tobi, in a shocked Obito voice: Wait, you knew all this time that I’m —

Deidara: *pulls Tobi’s mask off, leans up, and kisses him*

Deidara: Work on your technique, hm. Just because you’re cute doesn’t mean I’m gonna be stuck with a bad kisser for the rest of my life. And if you ever presume to cheat on me again, with this fucker or anyone else,  I’ll give you scars that’ll make those ones on your face look like nothing. Now go get dressed; I’m taking you out for breakfast! *turns and storms off*

Obito, still standing dazed against the wall: What the hell just —

Hidan: I’m never drinking another drop of alcohol as long as I live.

[abirddogmoment]

Thinking critically about the wind

[kaidanalenkosprmanager]

THE BEST OF PRIORITY: EARTH (PART 1 - REVAMPED)

Ft. Staff Cmdr. Sophie Oliveira-Shepard Alenko-Oliveira, Cpt. Arno Delacroix, and Zaeed Massani-Shepard MIRA'S MORE CANON ME3 "Shadow Broker resources? Yeah, they might be good for a lot of shit, Dove. Convincing the brass to get off their asses and do something about the Reapers? Not one of them. Think that one might be up to you, this time. Entertaining diction and goddamn fucking all." Mass Effect 3: Legendary Edition (2021)

[honey-tongued-devil]

▶[Arcane preference] reacting to you wearing their clothes [Jayce, Viktor, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Mel, Sevika, ]

If you know me, hello little deers, I'm back! If you don’t know me, welcome! Just a heads-up that I don’t use "Y/N," but rather the impersonal "you," and even though I talk about clothes, no sizes or weight are involved. Enjoy the read!

Jayce:

  - It’s not that rare when you’re together; he’s a real gentleman through and through. If it’s cold, he’ll give you his jacket, his scarf, anything to keep you warm  

  - But when you’re the one taking his clothes, it’s different  

  - When he sees you walking around the room in his shirt, just after waking up, something in his brain malfunctions  

  - It’s how it fits you, no matter how big or long it is, it seems like it was made just for you, to give you that look  

  - And to him, it feels like some kind of subliminal ad, as if the universe is making you so attractive in the simplicity of that gesture just to tell him he needs to hurry up and put a ring on your finger so he can enjoy that sight every day  

  - It’s hard for you to get anything done in the morning when he wakes up with those thoughts  

  - Those are the days when you stay in bed, cuddling under the covers, with him looking at you, hand on his cheek, getting more lost in you by the second  

Viktor:

  - For Viktor, the idea of a “little thief stealing his clothes” is an interesting one  

  - He’s never been a fan of tight-fitting clothes, plus, with his physique, it’s rare for anything to fit snugly anyway  

  - That’s why, except for his Academy uniform, the rest of his clothes are comfortable and at least two sizes too big for him, without mentioning Jayce's oversize ones in his closet  

  - What Viktor didn’t expect was that, once you started liking them, you’d just take them straight out of his drawer  

  - The first time he knocked on your door to ask if you’d seen his shirt —the very one you were wearing— he first stopped, confused, wondering how it had ended up on you  

  - And then, though he didn’t show it, he paused to notice with satisfaction how well it wrapped around your body  

  - Sometimes he pretends to forget his clothes at your place, just to see them on you, and to get them back with your scent on them  

  - For the nights when he feels lonelier  

Ekko: 

  - Communism  

  - There’s not really a strong sense of what belongs to whom at the Tree, although some clothes (jackets in particular) eventually get so personalized that no one dares to take them anymore  

  - The first time you grabbed Ekko’s jacket, it was simply because you were freezing, it was really cold, and he was resting, so he didn’t need it  

  - But when he saw you wearing it, his pupils dilated so much you could notice it despite his very dark eyes  

  - Ever since then, it’s him who gives it to you and insists that you wear it, because he likes it: there’s something extremely intimate and deeply personal about walking around with you in his jacket  

  - It’s like marking you as his, but really, also reminding himself of it  

  - And Ekko may be proud, but one thing you quickly and painfully learn in the alleys is to say ‘I love you’ before it’s too late, and that small possessive gesture makes him feel fulfilled because it’s like he’s telling everyone that he couldn’t live without you 

 

Vander:

  - Vander’s clothes have this super-secret ability to change depending on who’s wearing them. For example, what are shirts on him turn into dresses on you  

  - When you put them on, even just for the sake of convenience, you find yourself laughing in front of every mirror you pass by  

  - And if he notices, he can’t help but hug you from behind, leaning down to rub his nose against your neck, smiling against your skin  

  - “You know,” he says every single time, “it looks better on you than it does on me,” and no matter how false it might be, in his eyes, it’s truer than almost anything else  

  - After seeing you a few times in his grown-up man's clothes, he decided to dig through an old box to find the clothes from when he was younger and mend them before leaving them folded on your side of the bed, like a little gift  

Silco:

  - Silco’s strangest habit was the connection he had with his clothes: they looked like Piltover garments, except for the boots and the shirt under the velvet vest, yet they were torn, poorly mended, and worn out in several places  

  - Despite being the richest man in the undercity, he never changed them  

  - The only newer piece in his wardrobe that he used to wear was his coat, which was in perfect condition, scented with cologne, and lined with soft velvet that followed the direction of your fingers when you touched it  

  - Sure, there were ceremonial outfits, pajamas, and something comfortable yet always elegant, but he had worn them so little that they almost didn’t seem like his  

  - That’s why one day you simply decided you were bored, and while he was in a meeting, you could take the opportunity to try on the ones that fit you  

  - But that little fashion show from his wardrobe to the mirror probably took longer than expected, and definitely you were too focused, because you didn’t notice the tall figure watching you, leaning against the doorframe  

  - “Don’t take that off, I’ve got an idea or two,” his voice broke the silence, making you jump  

Jinx:

  - Her clothes are more like a flea market than a wardrobe: there are men’s clothes, women’s clothes, from Piltover and Zaun, intact, held together by metal staples, clean, splattered with paint, torn from explosions, some so small you wonder who they could even fit, and some so large that you and at least four of her father’s henchmen could comfortably fit in them with room to spare  

  - She’s the one who tells you to grab something from the pile the first time you ask to help her with her calculations and experiments, and in the end, you choose something comfortable rather than something intact or clean  

  - It took her a good half hour to notice, and then another hour to stop talking about it  

  - It was something she hadn’t done since she had a family, sharing clothes with someone else, and suddenly she realized just how much she missed it  

  - Every now and then, she’d give you oversized shirts on purpose, just to disappear under the fabric and snuggle up to you, where she felt sheltered enough to feel less vulnerable  

Vi:

  - Vi’s mentality was interesting because, by accident, if she noticed you were eyeing someone’s clothes with interest, somehow the next day those clothes would end up on your bed  

  - Vi would do anything for you; if it were up to her, you’d be dressed in pearls and gold, but neither the place nor her situation allowed it  

  - That’s why she never offered you her clothes: the older ones were tattered, barely definable as rags, which she stubbornly patched up every month  

  - The new ones were stolen, spoils from street fights, but they always came in looking battered and worn, or worse, stained with blood or strange substances, so they weren’t good for you  

  - When she saw you wearing a sweater from her wardrobe, stained and burned in spots, the first thing she felt was guilt  

  - She hated not being able to treat you the way she wanted to  

  - But from that day on, she made sure to at least wash her clothes before putting them away, and slowly she learned to love the clothes you stole a little more than the others  

  - That sweater, for example, she would defend it with her life  

Caitlyn:

  - Whenever you stayed over at her place, she always made sure to provide everything for you: slippers, socks, pajamas, anything you might need  

  - And it was always the highest quality you had ever seen  

  - So seeing you in her clothes wasn’t new, although she sometimes liked to have you try on things she didn’t wear anymore, partly because she couldn’t due to her important name, and partly because she spent half her time in uniform  

  - Those little fashion shows almost always ended with her on top of you, while you are very busy figuring out how to stay quiet so none of the servants, or worse, her parents, would catch you  

  - It didn’t matter if the clothes didn’t suit you, being able to see you in so many different lights made her fall even more in love with everything about you  

  - The final blow? One day she decided to look through the enforcers’ uniforms to find one that would fit you, and for the first time, she saw you in clothes that matched hers  

  - There was something about it that made her hope that uniform would change the chemistry of your brain too and make you join the force, just so she could spend more time with you, just so she could see you like that more often  

Mel:

  - For Mel, it wasn’t an event: she was used to everything, mastering her emotions, and seeing you wearing something of hers had only left her confused for a second, from which she quickly recovered, smiling at you  

  - “It looks really good on you, you know?” she had asked  

  - It didn’t bother her. Objectively, you seemed stupid borrowing those elegant clothes tailored exactly to her body  

  - It almost felt like heresy to wear the clothes of a goddess-like figure. But the goddess had sensed something, and she began buying and commissioning outfits for both you and her, matching, so you wouldn’t feel like you were missing something  

  - But there was one moment, a specific one, where seeing you in one of her dresses had left her speechless  

  - When you told her that the sweater was so beautiful it was almost a shame knowing she couldn’t wear it on the day you’d marry her  

  - And Mel Medarda came from a land of war, where it was hard to get attached to people, let alone objects  

  - Yet from that day, that piece of clothing became a constant for her, even if it meant layering or pulling it down to keep her shoulders bare  

  - Because it no longer just warmed her skin; it began to warm something deeper, something she hadn’t even realized she had  

Sevika:

  - Her clothes reflected her line of work: dirty, unpleasant, dangerous  

  - But despite that, she would drape them over you herself, no matter how worn they were: if she thought you might be cold, without a word, you’d find a sweater or hoodie on your shoulders  

  - And even though she’d glance at you from the corner of her eye, she wouldn’t stop watching you for a single moment when you wore something of hers  

  - It was a matter of homeland—there was no ownership in Zaun, not even last names, as even the family you belonged to was irrelevant compared to what you could do  

  - And the gangs, thugs, and troublemakers wouldn’t hesitate to steal what was yours  

  - But you were hers, and you couldn’t be stolen. And that shirt was hers, but she didn’t feel mutilated, like she normally would, when you wore it  

  - In fact, she loved it, opening her arms to invite you to snuggle up, holding you carefully so the prosthetic wouldn’t bother you, adjusting the clothing on you ten, a hundred times, almost unconsciously  

  - And when you wore her clothes, it felt like for a little while, you could wear her skin too, to understand her better, and she suddenly seemed more vulnerable