#what you think

[elpurppleone90]

Sexy or nah? What you think? Like , comment and share.

[lordedlady]

HOT TAKE!

does anyone main portia? by that i mean : think portia is their favourite *LOVE INTEREST*.

not favourite character, favourite TO DATE/FLIRT WITH/MARRY POTENTIALLY (??)

'cus, dont get me wrong, portia is an absolute gem in other routes... but that' s the thing.

in other routes.

i haven't currently met anyone who likes portia's route as their best, or even top 3. personally, the route isn't ALL bad, its cute, quirky and it's not too out of character.

however, it feels less like a romance and more like a platonic. sure, they get together in the end -- but it doesn't really feel all too established, aka i feel like the route is rushed.

i feel the same for muriels and a little for lucio's as well, though i think that (COUGH COUGH dorian COUGHGHG) did portia the most dirty, which is a shame, cus i definitely would've loved her if they established a bit more of her personality, and less on tasya.

cus while the plot is important, we haven't really seen anything like it in other routes (where the M3 where the same), and this caused alot more building to be on plot than a romance option

... which could've been EASILY fixed if her route was as long as the M3 (asra, for example)

LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK 🤍

i'd love to hear ur opinion, darlings!

xoxo,

lordedlady

[1-800-local-slut]

Hiii I saw that you were taking dean x black reader requests! I would love it if you could write a one- shot about them getting married. I just wanna see Dean crying lol.

I'm sorry this took so long, I've been kinda depressed. But I'm back now! Thanks for waiting for this, once again sorry this took so long!

Likes and repost are appreciated, please let me know what you thought <333

Perfection

Dean Winchester x Black! Fem! Reader!

Angst and then fluff, wedding, Dean and reader cry a lot

Dean had seen a lot. In his 34 years of living he had seen a lot. He’d seen funerals, he’d seen murders, crimes of passion, weddings. Dean was an observer. Like a funny background character in a  movie. He witnessed things, did his job and disappeared. He was okay with that, at least he had to be. At some point, maybe when he was 15,  he realized he had to be okay with it. He would never get a long term girlfriend, a nice house with AC and heating, let alone a wedding. Dean had seen a lot for others. Never anything so nice for himself. Not until today at least.

She came into his life, and tore up everything. She tore up his beliefs that he was okay with it. She made him want nothing more than the life he accepted he’d never get. At first it made him angry. It was like God, and this is totally something he’d do, was taunting him. With a beautiful woman who held him through stormy nights and long days. Who kissed his tears away when he melted down. Who baked him pies, and held his hands with no shame. 

She wasn’t a hunter. She didn’t have any of that darkness or murderous rage he or Sam had. She was untouched by the true evils of this world. When she found out about it, it didn’t corrupt or change her the way it had many others. She didn’t fall under depression knowing there were greater evils out there. She didn’t run, or scream, or call him a monster. She just held him, and listened to all his sins and confessions. She was too perfect for him. No, he couldn’t have this. At least it’s what he thought. 

She smashed through that belief with pure love, and showed him that no matter what he thought about himself he deserved love. He deserved her. Still he had his days where he couldn’t believe it. Today was one of them. 

The piano played, as the doors opened at the end of the aisle. He saw her. Her father linked her arm, holding the trembling woman. The moment those doors opened, Dean almost evaporated. His knees buckled, and he cleared his throat. He felt the tears prick his eyes and took a hesitant breath. There was no one else in the church with them. There was a broad smile on her painted lips, the lips that Dean kissed everyday. Well everyday except for the past two weeks they hadn’t seen each other. Her ears dangled with a pair of the most gorgeous earrings he’d ever seen. Her dark eyes were filled with light, and her eyelashes looked a bit longer than usual. Her smile was impossibly bright, as the piano played a harmonious tune. She looked perfect. Actually, she was perfect. Just because Dean said so. He was 100% right too.

God,  what had he done to deserve this? With each step she took, Dean’s eyes began leaking.  The hot tears slipped down his face, and she broke out into a nervous laugh when she stepped up to the altar. Sam patted him comfortingly with a deep chuckle. She laughed as Dean broke out into a nervous grin and wiped his eyes. 

How could he not cry? This woman showed him love. She showed him that if anyone deserved love it was him. She showed him that he was more than a weapon of destruction, but a person. She showed him that she didn’t have to fight to hide his feelings from her. He didn’t have to panic and hide his feelings, and lash out. She taught him it was all okay. Love, care, affection. All of it, she gave it to him. With no cause, no ulterior motive, not wanting anything from him. Nothing but love. Dean felt selfish for wanting her. He felt selfish but wanted her love. She gave it to him without a fight. She gave him so much love it nearly overwhelmed him. He felt like he was drowning in it at times, and at first he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to accept that love. Eventually though, he did learn. He learned to float through it, the way he deserved. The way she taught him to just accept what she’s giving him. And now he was crying his eyes out in front of her. He couldn’t even hide his feelings from her if he tried now.

Her hands was in his, Dean’s hands were in hers. Behind them, the pastor chattered about some random bullshit. Dean wasn’t really too sure. Her eyes stared deeply into Dean’s, and he could feel himself drowning in her love once more. Dean hoped she was doing the same. He wanted to just grab her and kiss her plump lips. He was only pulled out of his trance by the big question.

“…do you take this man to be your husband, to live together in holy matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

“I do.” And Dean exploded. Tears bursted from his eyes, and he had to let go of her for a moment. He turned away, whipping his eyes as he tried to quiet his whimpers. Sam chuckled, and patted him on his back.

“You okay bud?” Sam asked and Dean mustered a nod. No, he wasn’t okay. He was so happy, it was causing him a violent reaction. She was promising to be with him forever, she was promising to love him no matter what. He was exploding with joy, to the point where his head started to hurt. 

After a few seconds he calmed down. He would’ve been embarrassed if she wasn’t staring at the ceiling trying to keep her eyes from running. There she was, panting and fanning her face. Her bouquet was shoved into Charlie’s hands, as she fanned her face. Her lip trembled, as her sister dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. 

“Dean Winchester, do you take this woman to be your wife, to live together in holy matrimony, to love her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?" 

“I do.” Dean whispered, trying to slow his heart beat. The moment he said it, her neck jerked backwards and she stared at the ceiling trying to repress more tears. He chuckled at the deep breaths escaping her, her chest heaving.

“The rings.” Sam stepped forward with the two rings, one with a D for her and one with her initial for him. The silver bands were courtesy of her father, much like this entire wedding. Then again, Dean was happy to marry her in a dark alleyway with a hobo as the officiant. But this was perfect too.

Slowly, he slipped the ring onto her finger. This was real. She was real. In a few more seconds, they’d be announced as Mr. and Mrs. Dean Winchester. Dean was certain he’d really lose it then. Her tender hands, and her nails felt comforting on his calloused skin. She slid the ring onto him and bit her lip, possibly in an attempt to fight back tears.

“You may now kiss the bride.” 

Dean had seen a lot in his life. He had seen beauty, and ugliness, life and death, light and darkness. Now he had seen it once more. Now he had seen true perfection. This time not as an observer, but for himself.

[chuchulovelymunimuni]

REECES PEANUT BUTTER CUP

- She reeces cup on my pea butter til i nut

- She reeces on my pea butt til i nutter cup

- She reeces on my butter cup till my pea nuts

- She reeces on my peanut til i butter cup (til i peeces)

- She nut on my pea til i butter (reeces?)

- She cup my nut til i pea butter?

- She reeces on my cup til i nut butter

[cherrieebomb96]

Note to self don't hang around people with tattoo guns. You'll end up with one by the end of the night. Luckily I convinced him to do just a small one. She cute or whatever.

[scarmille]

all shapes & sizes

which one r u guys rockin'

[demonsky]

How old do you think Uncle Deathly is?

Yes, he's dead, but at what age did he die? I think he was somewhere between 50 - 70.

Write what u think :)

P.S. I love this show. I'll never forget the moment when everyone asked Kermit: "Didn't you hear the banana skech?!". Poor Kermit.

I started loving this show many years after it was filmed, even though I wasn't born when it was filmed, but I still like it.

Well, no one forbade me to love this show ;)

[takeiteasyonmeimstilllearning]

I Hear A Sweet Voice Calling: Chapter 1

Warnings: L3 typical violence, 1500 words

Alarms blared to life. Floodlights snapped on. A man bellowed into his megaphone. A slippery little weasel and his two cohorts had thought they had successfully heisted a set of rare jewels, but the Inspector had other plans. This plan pivoted on catching these rascals during their escape.

As the lights flooded the thieves in a brilliant blinding white, the Inspector cackled, "YOU CAN'T GET AWAY THIS TIME LUPIN! MAKE IT EASY ON YOURSELF AND GIVE UP!"

Unfortunately, those were simply fightin' words to Lupin, and he got away. Again. After everything was said and done, the police lost roughly twenty uniforms, nine cruisers, four flood lights, a couple of street lamps, and the pride of the boys in blue.

Inspector Zenigata stood in the midst of the ruined police force. He felt like throwing his hat to the ground, and stomping on it but he loved his hat to a fault, so he compromised. As he was spewing a string of 'craps' at a long-gone Lupin, a young officer came to the Inspector's side. "Uh. Inspector Zenigata, sir?"

The Inspector ceased his curses, taking a moment to collect himself. "What is it Yata?"

"Headquarters just called in, sir. They said they want you at the base and in the chief's office right away sir."

"Alright. Thanks for letting me know," the Inspector sighed. He glanced around at the police cruiser carnage. "Looks like I'll have to take your car back to headquarters. You stay here and help clean up this mess, will ya?"

"Yes, sir! The car's parked around the block by the produce market, sir." Inspector Zenigata nodded his appreciation and started to turn. Yata hesitated, "Uh, sir?"

"Yeah?" The Inspector looked back at the young man who flitted his gaze, flushed a little and rubbed the nap of his neck with his hand.

"Um.. could you put the, uh, peaches in the rec room refrigerator? Please? It's, it's just I don't want them to go bad or anything... sir." Yata was cherry red by the end of his request.

"Sure thing." Inspector Zenigata had the faintest smile on his face. Yata could be so shy about matters that weren't work related. The Inspector knew that the boy had a flaming awe towards him and knew that Yata put him on a very high pedestal. It was evident to the Inspector because every time Yata looked at him, his young eyes sparkled and shone bright with admiration.

To say that the Inspector was going to be an influence on the kid was an understatement. What was a bigger understatement was that that fact made him uneasy. Inspector Zenigata so wanted to help Yata be the best Detective he could, he found himself analyzing his every action. He wouldn't admit it but having Yata as his protege mellowed him out enough to actually look before he lept. Most of the time that is, the exception being anything related to Lupin.

“That's nothing to be embarrassed about, kid."

Yata's eyes went wide and his lips pursed. Inspector Zenigata couldn't help but chuckle at Yata's embarrassment. "Oh right..." Yata managed to squeak out trying to smile, but failed miserably.

"And Yata," the boy's eyes finally met the Inspector's, "Knock it off with the 'sirs'. It makes me feel old."

"Yes sir. I mean... err... Inspector."

"Close enough." The Inspector mumbled with a smile. Normally, he wouldn't care if people called him sir, but in Yata's case, the Inspector hoped that it would at least close the gap Yata had created between them a bit.

Inspector Zenigata turned back and started to walk down the street. He cut across an alleyway one street parallel. As he came out of the alley, he looked right then left, trying to spot the produce market Yata had mentioned. He spotted the market to the left and headed towards it. He came up to the front of the car, walked to the driver's side and pulled the handle. The car door didn't budge. He crouched down, peering through the window. "Damn it all," he thought. "I forgot to get the keys off Yata."

◇

Yata watched the Inspector turn and leave. He took that as his cue and turned around himself, lightly surveying the mess of a police force. He spotted a group of officers who were picking up the shreds of their uniforms off the ground, decided that was as good a place to start as any, and headed toward them.

"Jeez, that samurai guy is nothing to sneeze at." One of the officers noted.

"Could be worse. Could be dead." Another shrugged nonchalantly.

"You say that about everything. But from what I understand that's not how this perp operates."

"Anymore." A third officer micro-corrected.

"Just be glad that Ishikawa didn't shred your boxers too." Yata interrupted as he came up to the group. "Inspector Zenigata did warn you about the uniform shredding in his briefing."

"Oh, the four and a half hour snooze fest?" The one officer scoffed.

"It obviously wasn't enough since all three of the perps and the Black Scales got away. Maybe if more had listened to the Inspector's briefing, they wouldn't have!" Yata stated more defensive than he cared for.

"Alright," The nonchalant officer broke in with a nervous chuckle, "You've got your point across; we all could have picked up the slack and paid more attention to the briefing."

"Well, it hardly matters now. We've got a mess to clean up until the sanitation department arrives." And with that, Yata turned his attention away from the group. He was going to tell them that headquarters was sending replacement uniforms, but not anymore. They can get a head cold for all he cared. He began to walk when he spotted an officer dangle a pair of keys from his fingers and toss them into a scrapped cruiser. "Oh no!" Yata realized, "I forgot to give Inspector Zenigata the keys!"

Yata faltered wondering wether he should wait for the Inspector to come back for the keys or not. But then he thought that even if he did bump into Inspector Zenigata on the way, at least they could both save a few steps and a bit of time. So Yata headed towards the produce market. He rounded his way down through the alley. As he came to the opening and turned left towards his car, the young man froze.

Down the street were four men ganging up on one guy. It looked like the defender was holding his own as he deflected a club. Yata was still too far to see who the assailants were, but he had a sinking feeling that he knew who they were assaulting. Yata ran towards the scuffle. He saw a driver of a parked black van get out and head towards the fight. The young Interpol officer looked back to the scuffle just in time to see the defender gracefully throw one of the charging attackers. That's when he saw the definitive silhouette of the broad-shouldered man wearing his trademark trench coat and a wide-brimmed fedora hat.

"INSPECTOR!"

Inspector Zenigata turned his head to the voice that shouted from behind the blinding headlights. The surprised voice was familiar, but he was a little busy at the moment to care who it was. However, even that much thought proved to be too much to spare, as in that second of distraction the Inspector felt a grapple hold around his neck and then a sudden sharp pain. Off of pure instinct, Inspector Zenigata plunged his body low, slipping out of the sad excuse for a headlock and wheeled himself around, flying his right fist into the new attacker's soft side. The slam sent his assailant stumbling back, cradling his side.

What caught Inspector Zenigata off guard was that he himself had stumbled back as he tried to catch his balance on unsteady legs. His feet were sluggish to his commands. He felt a mass slam into his back, the thud of his chest against the hard pavement, and the pound of his head greeting the ground. He could hear shouting, more urgent than before, piercing through the thick fog that began to envelop his brain. Or at least he thought he could; he wasn't sure.

The Inspector mustered everything he had to bring his arms then legs under him. He staggered to his feet only to have something else pummel the back of his head, slamming him back to the cold pavement of the street. The last thing he remembered was a shot? Multiple shots, maybe? Everything simply felt cold and black. The late-night air finally claimed ICPO's finest's last threads of consciousness.

-end ch 1

Chapter 3

[iwantobeperfect]

i hate the summer nights

i hate the way the sweat sticks too me as i sleep

i hate the way my travel toothbrush feels when i’m far away from home

i hate the way it stops my long summer days

i hate the way it keeps me up late

but i love the summer days

[mecharose]

literally if you have a moral ocd struggle u have to stop caring if u are a good person or not. like it doesn't matter and what metric even determines that anyway?

no quest for moral perfection is more important than not spending every moment of your life miserable.

[ofovertime]

HMMM

[urbelovedbenni]

[missroseofficial]

Finding out he’s still in love with his ex and was only with you because she moved on fast. RIP MY HEART OUT TYPE OF ANGST

Listen…I feel like this would make a juicy asf series?????

[glittersun17]

[cardreams7]