#whilst they’re telling him of their crimes??

[luvmoonie]

when sunak openly admits that he does not see what israel is doing as a genocide you know that this country is completely corrupt

[lizzy06]

Shinsou Hitoshi x Reader Fics Recs!! (Tumblr/Ao3/Wattpad)

My Hero Academia Fic Rec Masterlist

ab intra ✨✨💖💖by andypantsx3 (humor, eventual smut, brainwashing)when a wave of disturbing crimes sweep the city, pro hero Hitoshi Shinsou is assigned to work the case with you. What's even more frustrating than his obnoxious personality is the fact no one will tell you why he’s involved. Things only get more suspicious from there.[COMPLETED]

no grave to hold my body down✨ by Hawnks (supermintfluff) (oneshot, hurt/comfort) Kindness is its own superpower. Love is, too.[COMPLETED]

Jealousy✨ by @alienaiver (oneshot, fluffy banter)Shinsou wants your attention after coming home, but you are preoccupied.[COMPLETED]

 The Sports Festival✨ by @writing-freak(oneshot, fluff) reader with a weather quirk faces off against shinsou in the sports festival[COMPLETED] pt 2: Parties for No One ✨by @writing-freak (oneshot, fluff)you consider approaching shinsou after the sports festival. an unlikely friendship commences. [COMPLETED]

Why aren't you scared of me? by @bakugohoex (oneshot, slight angst, fluff)in which shinso joins class 1a and whilst everybody seems to be scared of him out of fear he’ll use his quirk, you try to befriend the boy and he develops feelings as soon as you talk to him.[COMPLETED]

Diary by @onyxiana-is-obsessed (oneshot, fluff)Shinsou finds your diary where you’ve written way too much about him. Good thing he feels the same way.[COMPLETED]

Speechless by @alaskamonsters (oneshot, first meetings)[COMPLETED]

18 by @songbirdsingingthings (oneshot, jealousy, fluff) .[COMPLETED]

how to start an office romance✨ by animepseud (multipurposeroom) (fluff, humor, angst, slowburn)When a serial killer shows up to terrorise the neighbourhood, who do you call? According to the neighbourhood, not Shinsou.is there a better time to pursue romance than in the midst of a serial killing investigation?[COMPLETED]

Friendly Reminders & Math Equations✨ by kingyohno (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff)What one person writes on their skin also appears on the skin of their soulmate. Reader is forgetful and Shinsou is bored. Awkwardness ensues.[COMPLETED]

lilac eyes | shinsou x reader✨ by personb (strangers to lovers, fluff, angst)You just wanted to live for one night at a party with Jirou, though it seemed your night was going to be far more eventful than you anticipated. And you welcomed it, well him at least, with open arms. And to be fair he was very, very hot.[COMPLETED]

Your name on my skin✨  by  @dira333 / Fogfire (oneshot, soulmate au, )What your soulmate writes appears on your skin.[COMPLETED]

Two mind related quirk users walk into a train  ✨ ✨ by  wotefokizbrunch (oneshot, mindreader! reader, humor)When Shinso is sleep deprived his inner monologue just rambles non-stop and you, being a mindreader, find it hilarious.[COMPLETED]

Heart & Mind ✨ by orphan_account (oneshot, strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort)You have trouble finding a sparring partner because of your Quirk. Few are willing to have their emotions manipulated, after all.[COMPLETED]

Love at First Sight by ScatteredScribbles (oneshot, fluff, coffee shop au, love at first sight) Even though Shinso knows better, some part of him still wants to believe it’s possible–that there’s a single person in the world made for him, and they’re lounging about in the coffee shop he works at.[COMPLETED]

Just Say It by @sunnieskies02 (oneshot, soulmate au, hanahaki disease, slight angst with happy ending) [COMPLETED]

Show Me by hunnybby(oneshot, crush, fluff, humor) Shinsou Hitoshi's classmate just won't leave him alone. If she wanted to know his quirk so bad then she should have paid attention.[COMPLETED]

We Really Need To Stop Meeting Like This by spicyNess (oneshot, tooth rooting fluff, crush)The more you bumped into him, the more you wanted to.[COMPLETED]

Late Night Visits by candlelight27 (oneshot, college au, fluff, smut, idiots in love)A not-so-innocent game of truth and dare and all your conspiring friends might give you an opportunity to sort out the feelings you have for your best friend, Hitoshi Shinsou.[COMPLETED]

 Heroes Together by @writing-freak(oneshot, fluff)after growing up close friends with shinsou, you are forced to move away and leave your home behind. years later, you return, reunited with the best friend who doesn’t seem to remember you. [COMPLETED]

In All Honesty by Avistella (oneshot, fluff)People have always been wary of talking with Shinsou, but not you. When you start distancing yourself from him, Shinsou becomes worried.[COMPLETED]

Chocolate kisses and Catpuccinos by HydrangeaPartridge (coffee shop au, strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, smut)In which you are an accident prone-waitress in a cat café where Pro Hero MindJack (aka Shinso Hitoshi) likes to spend time. How will your relationship evolve through the four seasons of one year?[COMPLETED]

[bullet-prooflove]

Blood: Nick Torres x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @whateversomethingbruh @district447 @stelacole @gatefleet

Companion piece to:

Casanova - You recieve an unwanted gift.

Promises - Nick makes you a promise.

Dry Land - Nick returns home.

A Little Naughty, A Little Nice - Casanova reflects on your relationship.

Safehouse - You and Nick spend a little time together in the safehouse whilst your stalker remains at large.

The Great Seducer - You finally meet the great seducer.

You’re still covered in blood when they find you, still wearing a robe that hangs open revealing all of you, your wrists still bound together. The body of the deputy director lies on the floor in a pool of dark liquid, brain matter and skull fragments as the stench of vomit permeates the room. Nick hurtles towards you but Parker is there, palm on his chest, forcing him back because the death it elevates things, takes it out of NCIS’s hands.

“Get her a lawyer.” Parker says forcefully, shoving Nick out of the room while Lisa takes control of the crime scene. “Make sure it’s someone you can trust.”

Despite the horror he’s just stepped into Nick understands the gravity of the situation. LaRoche had personal connections in the DOJ, people who helped put him in that position over McGee. They’re going to do the best they can to cover their asses, which means covering LaRoche’s ass postmortem and the best way to do that is by throwing you under the bus.

He calls Savannah’s husband Harmon Rabb from outside the apartment, arranging for the other man to meet them at NCIS HQ. It’s as he hangs up the phone that the elevator doors open, revealing the DOJ investigators. His heart stops because he knows exactly which way this going to go, he can see it already in their grim expressions.

The whole thing goes off the rails when they handcuff you. The entire time they’ve been here you’ve barely reacted to their presence. You’ve sat quietly as Jimmy saw to your injuries, allowed Lisa to help you change. It’s like your soul, the essence of you has completely left the building.

However the moment they slap that steel cuff on your wrist, something inside you snaps and the trauma of what happened to you rushes to surface. You fight, you scream and when they physically restrain you, you beg and Nick, he can’t fucking stand it. He ends up being arrested for assault because no one get to lay hands on you like that, he doesn’t give a shit if they are DOJ. When he’s forced down on the floor beside you, his own hands wrenched behind his back, he looks into your eyes still glistening with tears.

“It’s gonna be ok Harper.” He tries to reassure you. “I’m right here-”

He’s hauled to his feet then, sequestered to another room and you’re alone, the fight dying inside you with every minute that ticks by.

It’s three hours later that Vance is finally able to arrange his release from the holding area, he begs the other man for news on you but is forced to wait until they’re inside the director’s office so they can talk privately.

“They’re trying to say it was a sex game gone wrong.” He’s informed by Parker who’s waiting inside. “That they were having an affair and she killed him because he threatened to tell you. Did you know about their relationship?”

“There was no relationship!” Nick spits, pacing the length of the room. “They were in grief counselling together, they got coffee afterwards, that is it! Harper wasn’t cheating on me, she wasn’t screwing him behind my back. She was terrified when she got those gifts, she reported them. That isn’t the behaviour of someone who-”

“Nick, we know.” Vance says holding up his hand to silence him. “We just wanted to make sure we had all our ducks in a row before we present our own case to the Attorney General. She’s waiting in MTAC right now with Harmon Rabb and the prosecutor for the DOJ. She’s going to decide whether they’re moving forward with the charges.”

“I should be there, or I should be with Harper. Can I see her-”

Vance shakes his head.

“Until this is over, we need you to stay right here.” The director tells him as he heads towards the door to attend the meeting. “We don’t need this turning into a bigger mess than it already is.”

Love Nick? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[playboysturns]

daredevil!matt sturniolo ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

episode 1

when a bloodied masked man shows up at your balcony, there's nothing else you can do but help. though something tells you this isn't the last time you'll see him

warnings; blood, mentions of violence, mentions of wounds

saturday 00:24 

you step into your dark shoebox sized apartment tired, these long shifts at the hospital had worn you out and now all you could think of was sleep. taking your hair out of the tight ponytail it had been in all day, you moaned at the relief. 

your body was craving your bed but you still had to shower and eat some real food. you sigh instead opting to turn on the tv, the blue glow of the screen lighting up the room. the late night news was on, reporters droning on about what ever crimes were happening in hells kitchen.

you sit down, body slumped from exhaustion. the soft fabric of the couch drawing you in after sitting on hard plastic chairs for the past 12 hours, you eyes feeling heavier as seconds pass. maybe if you closed your eyes for just a few minutes it would be fine. you told yourself that it was only going to be for a few minutes and you would get up and shower.

CRASH

the loud noise startled you, your eyes flying open. you were now laying down, hair strewn across your face. you had been asleep long enough that the tv had automatically switched off. cursing whilst moving your hair you assume that one of your upstairs neighbours kids had come down the balcony of your window. 

it wasn't unheard of for the teenagers of the complex to sneak down at absurd hours of the night to go off to party. you turn your head, expecting to see a scantily clad teenager. 

only to be met with the sight of a man dressed in all black, a black mask covering his eyes.

paralysing fear coursed through your body. was someone trying to burgle you? 

these thoughts raced through your head before you heard a groan, focusing on the figure outside your window you realise he was clutching his stomach. a liquid all too familiar to you coating his hand. blood.

your nurse instincts kicked in and before you realise you were standing by the window already opening it. maybe it was a bad idea but some part of you couldn’t help but wonder if this man was really in trouble.

“hey,” your voice coming out timid and quieter than you would’ve liked it, the mans head snapping towards you. 

“hi” his voice strained and low, his breathing shallow, from here you could make out the soaked black fabric sticking to him.

“if you want you can come in, i can get you help. im a nurse," you say looking down to the scrubs you still had on. 

“its- its okay i just need to get down,” he replied shortly, climbing from the balcony through your window. 

“let me call the hospital-"

“no. no calls, i can’t go to the hospital, if i go there they’ll kill everyone to get to me” he rejects your idea, stumbling through your apartment. he makes it a few steps before almost collapsing to the floor.

“okay, no hospital got it,” you quickly scurry to him trying to calm your nerves, grabbing his arm and throwing it over your shoulder. your clothes getting coated in thick blood.

“who are ‘they’? where did you come from?” a million thoughts running through your head.

“your roof-“ he breathes out, clutching at his stomach.

“the roof? are you crazy” you whisper yell, not wanting your neighbours to hear.

“yeah- i fought some guys a few blocks away, they’re not going to find me here don't worry .” his knees buckling, his body so weak he could barely hold himself up.

you help his limping frame to your couch, laying him down gently. propping a pillow under his head you carefully examining the multiple gashes on his stomach and sides, blood oozing through his slashed long sleeve.

"let me get my kit" you leave him there, running to the bathroom. 

looking at your reflection in the mirror you couldn’t recognise the face looking back at you. these long shifts, shitty hospital food and lack of sleep had clearly taken toll on you.

your face sunken, pale, crusted drool by your lip, your eye bags worse than they had ever been. what were you doing? you splash your face with cold water shaking the thought out of your head , washing your hands before grabbing your kit from below the counter. there wasn't time to think when a man was bleeding out in your apartment.

“so, what’s a pretty girl like you doing home on a saturday?” his voice sounds from the couch, you laugh at this taking the compliment even though he couldn’t see you. turning your living room lights on, with the new brightness you could see his broad shoulders, his big arms filling out the long sleeve, his sharp jaw and pink lips below the mask.

settling down on the edge of the couch, you put on some gloves from the kit. setting down rubbing alcohol, gauze, thread and some needle out on the coffee table.  “work.”

“ah, long nights huh.” the man says.

you chuckle at this, nodding your head “yeah, you could say that.”

you go to move his shirt up, “can i?”

“yeah,” he moves up the hem of his slashed up shirt exposing his wounds. your eyes scan over his torso, his skin was littered with old scars on top of a layer of hard muscle. you rip your eyes away before wetting some cloth with rubbing alcohol, he winces as you apply pressure to one of his wounds.

“sorry, it’s going to hurt a bit” you say softly, threading the needle you start stitching him up.

"it's okay," he grunts, teeth baring.

you finish closing one gash by his rib, his chest steadily rising and falling but you were more concerned by the state of his head.

the mask covering his head was soaked in blood, you move to take it off before his hand catches your wrist.

“no,” he mumbles, even in his weakened state his grip on your wrist was firm. his hands warm and calloused.

“your mask is soaked in blood, and if you’re not going the hospital then just” you shake off his grip “let me help you, i won’t tell anyone.”

“why?” his voice coming out soft, questioning. 

“a few weeks ago cops brought in three men to the ER, said that they had been robbing houses round here and were beating the residents up bad” the man listens not saying anything. “apparently a man in a black mask took issue with this and decided to sort it out himself. i counted 9 broken bones between them.”

again he was silent listening to you, so you decide to share another story. 

“a few days after that EMTs bring in a 19 year old waitress. they said some guy she knew had been waiting for her after her shift, that he attacked her and tried dragging her into an alley. she said she screamed and screamed, and a man in a black mask heard her.” you say calmly, “that he saved her. so let me help you.”

he exhales, throwing his head back onto the pillow, “okay.”

your hands find his face, slowly pulling the mask off. the soggy fabric had smeared the right side of his face with blood, his bright blue eyes visible to you now. uncovered, he was somehow even more attractive.

“how can you see in this?” you question, the fabric was thick like he had made it out of a scarf. he chuckles, before clutching his chest groaning. dropping the mask onto your coffee table you dig into your kit, picking up your pen torch and shining it into his eyes.

“did you hit your head badly? your pupils they’re not dilating,“ you question, rechecking the wound on his head. it wasn’t too deep and hadn’t seemed like it had hit any major vein. in all honesty you think that most of the blood he was covered in wasn’t his own. 

“no its not that-“ he huffs, "i'm blind."

"oh," you reply stunned before confusion takes over “blind? how can you fight?" 

"well-" 

"are you a superhero?" he laughs at this, you clean the cut on his head putting a plaster over it. moving back to the rest of the wounds on his torso.

“no i’m not a superhero- i wasn’t born blind, i became blind from a car accident”

“right.”

“i know, it may seem confusing but when i lost my sight my other senses heightened.” 

“right,” you say again, trying to make sense of it.

“hold up a finger,” you do what he says, holding up 3 fingers “you have three up.”

“how did you-“

“the same way i know you have 2 day old mac n cheese in your fridge. also the same way i know you accidentally cut your ankle shaving a week ago.” you were stunned speechless.

“that’s incredible, a little scary- but incredible” 

“i lost my sight, but you have the think more than the 5 senses. balance and direction are something i can feel. i can smell the food in your fridge, smell that your neighbour likes putting on some fancy perfume. i can hear that there’s a busker 2 blocks away still playing at this time. taste the old blood in the air, feel the shift in airflow.” stunning you even more.

“well can i get a name? other than black mask man?” you question, wondering who the man laying on your couch was.

he flashes a smile, shaking his head before answering. “its best you not know angel.”

“angel?” confused on the nickname.

“yeah, angel. you’re here patching me up, letting me in your house. saving me from doing a shitty job on myself,” his smile boyish. 

“okay.. angel. but i still want your name,” you say, he rolls his neck his face turning solemn.

“the less you know about me the better.”

“yet you’re here in my apartment, with me stitching you up. don’t i deserve some backstory?” he thinks about it for a second.

“matt- matthew” his voice gruff, quiet.

"matthew,” liking the way his name settles one your tongue, he nods. your eyes run over his face, tracing over the curve of his lips.

you clear your throat “so matthew, how did you end up in the mask?” 

“well, it um. it started in college. some girl was screaming in the alleyway by my dorm, so i went to help. put a mask on cause i didn’t want the dickhead i beat up to know it was me.” 

“were’d you learn how to fight? you did lessons? got siblings that you fought with?”

“yeah i have brothers. not where i learnt how to fight though, my dad he’s a- was a boxer. so my brothers and i used to play fight. our dad wouldn’t let us actually box but i er- i learnt it at a church orphanage we went to.”

“a church orphanage taught you how to fight?”

“no,” he lets out a chuckle at this “someone just taught me when i was there.”

“so your brothers know about this?” 

“no my- my brothers and i don’t talk much. it was never really the same after our dad died,” his words choking up in his throat.

you lay a hand gently on his arm “you don’t have to talk about it”

“no, it’s okay. i just haven’t talked about it in so long so its-“

“awkward, i get you.” you say going back to stitching up.

“we’re triplets. so my brothers and i we were as close as you could think. but after our dad died and we went to the orphanage. some church our dad brought us too when we were growing up. when we got there that’s where everything went wrong. my younger brother he was angry, wanted revenge or something, my older brother he didn’t really like being around us.” you hummed showing that you were still listening as you tried to gently clean and stitch up the gashes “i still go there every now and then.”

“church huh,” 

“what can i say, i’m a man of god.” he flashes a borderline sinful smile, your eyes wander over hisl figure. 

“right, so what happened to your brothers?”

“my younger brother went into boxing, something my dad would’ve never wanted us to do- he didn’t like us fighting. my older brother he- he went off on his own, which only made my chris- my younger brother more angry. my older brother he works as a photographer now. they still live in hells kitchen,” he laughs dryly “even though we live so close i haven’t met them in years.”

“what about your mother?” you ask tentatively.

“she um. she left when we were younger,” his jaw flexing “couldn’t- couldn’t handle raising 3 boys, and she hated the fact my dad boxed- shit!”

you wince accidentally pushing the needle in too deep into the cut, “sorry, sorry”

“its okay, i can take some pain,”

your lips twitch up at this “you don’t say.” finishing up the last stitch you, pull his tattered shirt back down. “there, the bleedings stopped and everything’s cleaned up. you should rest.”

matt shakes his head "i don't want to overstay my welcome, you're tired.” getting up, he grabs his mask pulling it back over his head. you don’t move as you watch him limp towards the door, mustering up the courage to say something. 

"matt.." he stills, turning his head to you. 

"come back if you ever need stitching up again."

his face breaks into a smile opening your door, “you know you should remember to lock this, you don’t know who could come in.”

and like that he was gone. his footsteps sounding down the hallway, leaving you alone again in your apartment. you would’ve thought this encounter was a dream if not the blood stained cloth and metallic smell in the air. 

all you hoped was that matt would find his way to your window again.

dividers by @/diviniyae @/enchanthings @/cafekitsune

a/n ; hopefully you like this, after watching daredevil: born again i kept shake the idea of matt as matt murdock.

[sandcobangevent]

The Experiment

By starsrcooll and __egg__16

She’s gone,” John said, walking back into the lounge.

“Thanks a lot mate.”

“I said I’m sorry! It’s not as if I did it on purpose, why would I-“

“Because you don’t care, okay? Not about me, not about anything but solving crimes like they’re puzzles. If you did care, you wouldn’t have treated Ellen like a complete jerk!”

John was yelling, waving his hands around and pacing the room in frustration.

He seemed unaware of Sherlock’s demeanour getting increasingly more uncomfortable.

He was sat on the couch, his knees protectively held up to his chest and his hands pressing his ear defenders firmly against his head.

He knew John would never hurt him no matter how upset he might be, yet he couldn’t help but flinch whenever the doctor’s hands gestured wildly.

“But I do- “, he tried.

“You don’t! Why else would you do this? Why else would you just mess up my date like this?”, John continued, voice raising even further.

“I told you she was coming over, I bloody knew this would happen! I like this girl, okay? I like her and you.. you just.. god why would you-“

After a couple more minutes of ranting John seemed to calm down, plopping down on a chair close to the couch and running his hands through his hair.

They sat together for several minutes, the flat silent except for the sound of their breathing and Sherlock’s rhythmic tapping against the couch.

The tension seemed to slightly leave the man’s body as John was not longer pacing and waving around.

He started to pick at his nails when he spoke up.

“I.. I do care, John. You know I do,” he whispered.

John looked up at him with apologetic eyes and a soft smile.

“Oh I know that. I know that Sherls I’m so sorry for what I said”, John rambled tiredly.

“I wasn’t thinking, I was frustrated but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you like that. I know you care.”

“‘M sorry”, Sherlock mumbled again.

If only he could find a way to show John just how much he cared.

—————————

One week later

—————————

“Watson just come with me for a second okay?”

Sherlock was pulling John’s arm after having entered his room without knocking, insisting John should come with him because he had something to show him in the kitchen.

John, being used to the detective’s somewhat curt way of communicating, hadn’t berated him on coming in unannounced though he was confused as to why he was being dragged out of bed at five in the morning.

“Sherlock, mate-“, he started, his voice still thick with sleep.

“Look at the time for a second yeah? Tell me what the clock says please.”

He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and held it up near Sherlock’s face.

He watched as the screen lit up the other man, revealing a very annoyed-looking detective.

“It says 5am? Couldn’t you have collected that information yourself John?”

John sighed at the look of genuine confusion on his friend’s face, deciding to take pity on him.

“Yeah, sorry about that..”, he mumbled, yawning whilst he did.

He stretched his arms thus pulling himself free from Sherlock’s grasp before sitting up.

“Alright, I’ll bite. What d’you want to show me?”

Sherlock’s face lit up with excitement, though John detected a slight nervousness as well.

He wondered what could cause his friend to feel all of this at such an hour.

Sherlock wordlessly grabbed his arm again, pulling him out of bed and into the hallway.

As they were walking, he felt the other’s hand slide down slightly to hold his own.

He smiled softly, curiously continuing to walk to the kitchen.

Just as they were about to turn the corner into the room, Sherlock abruptly stopped. His grip on John’s hand tightened before he dropped it and ran to the kitchen counter.

“No no no… oh no..”, he softly muttered, seemingly upset though John had no idea why.

He looked around the corner and realised what was upsetting his friend.

The whole kitchen was a mess. Multiple bottles of fluid were scattered around the place, and blue foam was oozing from the beakers placed carefully in a line on the counter. Glass shards covered the floor and he could see a mist floating through the room.

Careful not to step on the sharp pieces, John slowly walked up to a shaking Sherlock.

He softly put his hands on the other’s shoulders in an attempt to ground him, as he saw his friend starting to panic.

“It was supposed to.. I was making something in order to show you-“, Sherlock said, his eyes tearing up.

John shook his head.

“It’s okay, let’s just get out of here for a second- there we go.”

He led them to the couch and, after grabbing Sherlock’s weighted blanket and ear defenders, sat down next to him.

They were quiet for a bit, Sherlock not saying anything and John wanting to let the other be able to speak without having to interrupt his own rambling.

He resorted to just rubbing soft circles on the back of his friend’s hand, not knowing what else to do or say. He could tell Sherlock was upset about.. whatever was going on in the kitchen, though he couldn’t figure out exactly why.

It’s not like he’s never had an experiment go wrong, what was so different about this one?

It was a few more minutes before Sherlock spoke again.

“I wanted to.. show you. I wanted to show you, and now I’ve messed up, and I can’t put it into words and I simply do not know how else to do this-“, he rambled, his hands making erratic gestures as he tried to express his thoughts.

John was having a hard time figuring out what his flatmate meant.

Even though he might not have understood what he was trying to say, John noticed him getting more tense than usual.

Sherlock didn’t know what to do. He so desperately wanted to find the correct words to say.

He wanted to express how he felt, yet he couldn’t bring himself to do so.

Noticing John had no idea what he was talking about, he slumped his shoulders.

“This is stupid.”

John decided to try and help him out a bit.

“When you said “it”, what did you mean Sherlock? Is there something you want to tell me but don’t know how to?”

Sherlock nodded, avoiding John’s gaze. The latter could see his skin flushing lightly, and he wondered what could possibly make his friend this embarrassed.

“Okay, does it.. have something to do with me?”, John tried.

Another nod.

Just as he was about to ask another question he felt Sherlock suddenly scoot closer.

He didn’t know what to make of that.

“John?”

“Yes-“, he answered, turning to see Sherlock’s calculating gaze on him.

He looked nervous.

Why would he be nervous?

He was pulled out of his thoughts when Sherlock hesitantly took his hands and held them his own.

Now it was John’s turn to blush. His mind was short circuiting, utterly confused but definitely intrigued by what was happening.

Sherlock looked John in the eyes. He licked his lips before he spoke.

“I didn’t know how to tell you. I still don’t. I needed to show you instead, but my experiment failed and now I only have one thing left.”

He looked away in shame before making eye contact again.

“I am sorry, John. I’m sorry for driving away your date-“

“No, what? Sherlock I told you, it’s fine-“, John rambled.

“John-“

“It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean it, I’d never hold a grudge against you for-“

“John!”, Sherlock tried again.

“Yes?”

“Please, let me finish.” he said.

John nodded and silently looked at him, waiting for Sherlock to continue.

“I am sorry for driving away your date. I suppose I just.. didn’t know how to deal with my feelings. I did not know how to express them and failed to take into account the fact that you can’t just read my mind. I realised I needed to tell you. I cannot live through another day of pushing down these feelings. It is incredibly tiring, John.

What we have is good and I appreciate your friendship immensely. You are the bravest and kindest man I have ever met, and to be your friend is the greatest honour one can be granted.”

He took a nervous breath in before continuing.

“My feelings confuse me. I do not know what this is, but I know it is different than my feelings towards my other friends like Mariana. It is simply not the same, and I cannot help but overanalyse them because they are a mystery to me.”

Noticing Sherlock’s fidgety behaviour, John squeezed his hands a bit harder and flashed him a reassuring smile.

“I feel selfish for even wanting more, thinking about more. I do not know why I cannot just be content with what we have right now. I am a selfish man and for that I apologise, John.

I have tried to be subtle, ignore these thoughts and appreciate the current state of things, but I cannot do it anymore. I cannot go on like this, as much as I wish I could.”

John didn’t know what he was supposed to think of this.

Could it really be that Sherlock was talking about wanting to be more?

Afraid to assume the wrong thing and scare Sherlock away, he kept silent.

“John?”

“Yes?”, he replied once again, pulled from his thoughts by Sherlock hesitantly placing his hands on either side of his face.

“I am sorry for what I am about to ask you.”

He leaned in a bit closer, and John could swear he had a heart attack when he realised what Sherlock was doing.

“John”, he began. “Can I..”

His sentence trailed off and instead he inched closer, clearly hesitant, not wanting to accidentally cross a boundary and ruin everything.

John decided it was now his turn to take initiative.

After getting even closer and making sure this was what Sherlock actually wanted, he closed the distance between them and softly pressed their lips together.

He pulled away after a while, relishing in the way Sherlock’s eyes were twinkling, his mouth gaping slightly and his cheeks flushed.

His curls were all over the place, as John’s hands had found their way into the unruly strands of hair whilst they kissed.

He had always loved Sherlock’s curls.

“Is that a good enough answer for the master detective?”, John said quietly, grinning from ear to ear.

“I think that’s sufficient for now, yes.” Sherlock answered with a smile, turning around and dropping his head on John’s shoulder.

Grabbing the weighted blanket, John covered them both with it before putting on a documentary on bees he knew Sherlock liked.

They’d talk about this more later, he decided.

Right now this was more than enough.

“… The mist in the kitchen isn’t poisonous, is it?”

[nanaten]

i love one-sided lloydten …. i think, for me to like a ship, i need to have alot to say about it. but when it comes to lloydten the only time i have alot to say about it is when lloyd is sad and pining because that is the most fascinating angle to me. case in point:

ninten is,, y’know, the cool neighbors kid type, the teenager from across the street that you only hear about via your parents gossiping i.e “did you hear? that little brat vandalised the mayors’ portrait again!” and lloyd envies him SO much. he wants to be him so bad. in his eyes ninten is a tried and true hero, a fearless fighter who stands for what’s right— whilst also being edgier, a teenager who does cool and scary things like smoke (he doesn’t actually) and watch 18 rated films (he doesn’t do that either. caught a glimpse of his parents watching nightmare on elm street and had nightmares about it for weeks) and commits crimes (he does do this one actually.)

he feels theres this inherit distance between them, because ninten is so much cooler than him (no he isn’t) and is so much stronger then him, but he desperately wants to close that distance and become someone who ninten views as an equal. he puts ninten on a pedestal and yearns to reach the same heights ninten is on; failing to realize there’s never been a point in their lives where ninten hasn’t already seen him as an equal.

ninten sees him as his most reliable, if not slightly meek and fun to mess with, best friend. he loves him dearly, and wouldn’t trade him for the world. he just wishes Lloyd wouldn’t always make things complicated. he doesn’t understand why lloyd has created such a complex about himself; he’s never had feelings like that before, so hell, he can’t understand it. it hurts slightly, even, that lloyd refuses to believe ninten when he tells him they’re friends, it hurts that lloyd believes he must become better to be worth him as a friend.

and putting a one-sided romance on top of this sort of dynamic? soul-crushing. gut-wrenching. sorry ninten your right hand man hates himself but also loves you. he is desperate to prove himself to you romantically and platonically and you have to try and tell him how much he matters to you but also not in a romantic way. hell. hell on earth. sorry man. also your friend will be romantically pining after you quietly on his own forever upon acknowledging this because he respects you and your feelings and your comfort so much. he’ll never bring it up again to you so you never feel uncomfortable but in turn it’s eating him up inside every time he wakes up in the morning to the moment he goes to bed. you are everything he’s ever wanted and you are everything he’s ever wanted to be and you can do nothing but be his friend because the only thing that would be worse than that is trapping him into a relationship with you that would be a lie. he deserves to experience being loved as he loves so you wait and support him as a friend in the hopes he can one day love anew but to him that feels impossible. incorrigible, even, as if loving another would be some form of betrayal to you. sorry man. sorry

[leosficlist]

Bed Sharing / Room Sharing Rec List!

In combination with the For Warmth trope as well, I bring you my Johnlock favorites once again. Various points in and out of BBC canon, most involve a first time, all of them include men kissing :)

Assurance by belovedmuerto 2.3k words

It’s not so much the ‘you’re half-dead, you wanker,’ or even the broken ribs, the hairline fracture of the pelvis, the dislocated shoulder and knee, and the wrenched ankle.

notes: bedsharing under the pretense of watching over Sherlock while he's injured, slowly coming together, fluffy

Everything by patternofdefiance 4.4k

John wakes up with an armful of Sherlock. This – situation – is unusual, yes, and definitely unfamiliar, but in no way does it feel wrong. Rather, it feels the exact opposite.

notes: fluffy love filled first time

Adjacent by @weeesi 5.7k words

“Oi. I’ve just asked you twice where our bloody room is.”

Oh, John.

“Rooms, I meant. Obviously.”

The innkeeper blew his nose into his handkerchief, already sodden with the effects of the spring bloom, and shot a knowing look between the two of them. “Ta, lads. Have a good ‘un.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes and spun on his heel, leaving John trailing behind him.

notes: they can't leave each other alone all night

The Cure for Snoring by Goddess_of_the_Night 1.2k

Sherlock and John spend the night in Scotland after finishing a case. The sole Inn in town only has one room left...one bed. This would be fine - if not a bit awkward - if Sherlock hadn't developed a habit of snoring loudly. John suffers through many hours of sleeplessness before he discovers that skin-to-skin contact stops the noise.

notes: gen, part of a great series

Languorous by distantstarlight 2.5k words

“Sherlock Holmes and John Watson have been through a lot but one of the things they do well together is cases. It isn't a surprise that they get called out of town but what about what happens in their hotel room?”

notes: wet dream, morning sex

Thermodynamics Series by EntangledNow 4 works, 16.5k words total

“In which there's no heating and there's a dead owl in Sherlock's bed”

notes: Sherlock keeps ending up in John’s bed, leading to getting together

The Honeymoon Suite by Salamboo6 5.8k

John nods, licking his lips and playing with the key in his hand. We’ll probably be leaving first thing in the morning, he wants to tell her. As soon as Sherlock proves who robbed the previous couple who booked a room here, we’re out of here and stopping this happily married charade. “Thank you,” he says instead.

notes: post s4ish, rosie mentioned but not involved, waking up snuggling

To Sleep, Perchance to Smother Your Flatmate With A Pillow by Linpatootie 5.3k words

Sherlock wants to conduct a sleep study of sorts. John contemplates smothering him with a pillow.

notes: part of a great series, slow coming together

A Terrific Soporific by antietamfalls 11.2k words

Sherlock, a long-time sufferer of insomnia, is forced to share a bed with John at a hotel while on a case. To his astonishment, he finds that spending the night next to John helps him sleep and becomes determined to maneuver himself back into John's bed.

Worth the Wait by englandwouldfalljohn 1k words

When a case leaves John and Sherlock stranded in a cabin in the snow, an invitation to share the only bed leaves Sherlock wanting... but not for long *winkwink*

notes: eager first time in the middle of the night

In the Morning by erebones 3.9k words

for the prompt - paula bennyslegs: someone please write sherlock and john sharing a bed because of a case… and one of them waking up to the sound of the other having a wet dream, especially if they’re saying the other persons name whilst doing it

Someone Else's Heart by thisprettywren 4.1k words

A crime scene, a rainstorm, and something they both should have known all along.

notes: getting together in a hotel room on a case, emotional first time

One Day Like This by nondeducible 4.8k

When Sherlock emerged from the bathroom, the sight before him nearly took his breath away. The only light in the room was the small lamp on the bedside table. John’s skin shone like gold, his hair like the purest silver. He was on his side, facing the empty part of the bed, his outstretched hands ready to embrace whoever climbed in next to him. Sherlock could imagine, just for a second, that this was their shared bed and he was coming back to settle into John’s arms.

Knotted by naughtyspirit 23.1k words

John has to cancel a date because of Sherlock's case, which leads them to be tied up in a basement from which they have to escape.

They get wet, get tied up close and John has to step up and save them.

Because he's pretty. And hot. And just a little bit of a BAMF.

notes: bickering, getting together, first time

Sleeping next to you by Salambo06 5k words

Based on an Anonymous Prompt :

"So, that scene from ASiB when Mrs H has been attacked by the american CIA guy & John, Sherlock & she are in Mrs H's kitchen when John says "She’ll have to sleep upstairs in our flat tonight. We need to look after her." to which Sherlock replies with "no". John of course suggested that because he cares about her safety, but maybe he also did it cause he /wanted/ that to happen. What if they finally agreed on letting her have John's or Sherlock's bed & J&S sleep in the same one?"

notes: sweet middle of the night getting together, second chapter morning after smut

[xoxoavenger]

Heya! Can I please request Jack Thompson x fem!reader where they both don’t like each other or get along very well but on rare occasions they joke around/agree with each other. Reader is also usually very cool, calm and collected however they go on a mission where they need to act like a couple and infiltrate some type of crime organisation. Whilst they’re meeting with the organisation bosses for dinner to discuss ‘joining’ (maybe they have microphones on to record the cony as proof or something), some of the bosses start making creepy offhand comments about reader (misogynistic, maybe alluding to trafficking her or making her a stripper or something. Idk you can decide) which sets reader on edge and makes her tense. Jack also gets uncomfortable and starts being protective and subtly comforts/grounds reader whilst trying not to blow their cover.

hi, I hope this is what you were looking for! thanks for requesting <3

Start Something

pairing: Jack Thompson x Fem!Reader

word count: 1877

warnings: non-graphic death (minor), not proof-read (sorry)

masterlist request something for the 12 Days of Christmas!

"L/N!" Jack Thompson's voice rang out through the bullpen, and the girl in question hung her head at her desk. She had been in the middle of writing a report, one that she knew the Chief was going to complain about it if she didn't have it done by the end of the day. She really didn't have time for him to call her into the office to go over some stupid case that he could ask literally any other agent about. He was doing it to spite her.

"Yes, Chief?" She asks with a smile, just like she always does. Deep breath in, deep breath out.

"My office?" He suggests, as if it were obvious. She wants to punch him, but she just leaves her work, knowing she's going to have to stay late tonight and it's going to suck. She walks across the bullpen, heels clicking against the floor in time with the typing of all the other agents acting like they were doing work and not totally going to listen in on her conversation.

"What is it, Chief?" She asks as she shuts the door behind her.

"You don't have to call me that." Jack tells her, and she doesn't respond to this.

"What do you need?" She doesn't ask it unkindly, but she makes it clear she's only there for business.

"Your input." Jack turns the papers over to her, and she slips into the seat across from him desk. She's pretty sure it's only there for her, because she's the only person who ever stays in his office long enough to sit. "Coffee?" He asks, turning in his chair towards the machine he has on the small cart in his office.

"Yes," She sighs out when she sees how long the papers are. "Two creams, three-"

"Three sugars, yeah." Jack says with a smirk, and Y/N rolls her eyes.

"I can take these back to my desk." She offers with a sardonic smile, and he just frowns.

"I need your live input. If we need to go on a mission, it's gonna have to happen soon." He stirs her coffee, and she takes the mug from his hands.

"So, this guy, Booker, it seems like his only weakness is his wife? All these guys he's killed, the common theme has been threats to Emiliana." She flips through the pages of Henry Booker, the mobster who seemed to be at the top of the crime ring Jack was trying to bust.

"Antonio Colombo has the same deal." Jack nods, sitting down in his seat with a fresh cup of coffee. "His wife, Beatrice, she actually seems to be helping him." Jack pulls the paper of the second mobster out, and Y/N pulls some coffee slowly through her lips.

"What about Beau Martin?" She pulls out the page at the bottom, and scans it. She finds the same thing, that his wife Julia is living in her pretty penthouse while Beau is killing everyone around them. These three mobsters have created a circle so tight, that once you're in the only escape is death. The Germans are selling the drugs, the Italians are providing jobs (the only ones these addicts can get now), and then the French, who are either taking them out or sending them back through the cycle. It's the French who are the most dangerous, who have the most blood on their hands.

"We need to end this soon." Y/N sits back with her mug, feeling tired after just reading the papers.

"No kidding." Jack responds, wiping a hand across his face. "Any ideas?"

"Well, they seem to really love their wives. So, if we can figure out some sort of event they'll all be at, maybe we can take them out. Cut off the head." She suggests with a shrug, as if she's not suggesting that the two of them infiltrate and kill the biggest mobsters in New York.

"We'd need a lot of back up." Jack tells her, and she nods. "The two of us will have to distract them."

"It'll be dangerous." She says, taking another drink of her coffee. It's almost out, so she quickly finishes the last of it and puts it down on the desk. "How would we even get in?"

"Well, that's the easy part." Jack says with a smirk. "We're going to be a mobster and his wife." Y/N gives this a moment to sink in.

"Absolutely not." She stands, and he rises with her.

"Why, because you hate me? We've gotta get over that at some point, Y/N." He says, and she shakes her head.

"Not only is this an insanely dangerous mission, but we'd have to act like we don't hate each other. And it'd have to be convincing enough that actual mobsters won't be able to catch on."

"I don't hate you." He says, and she wants to throttle him.

"I don't have time to go over all the reasons why I disagree with that statement. The point is, we'd have to play a convincing couple. And we'd have to do it soon. And it's in a mobster den. We don't even know how much backup we'd need to get in there." She rants, heart racing as she thinks about how hard this mission is going to be.

"That's why I need your help. We have to get this figured out, and we have to get it soon." Y/N knows she's not going home early tonight, and she's not getting back to the report she had been writing.

"Alright." She breathes out, nodding. "I guess we're going ring shopping."

~

"Mr. and Mrs. Adler. So glad to meet you." Henry Booker, the top of the fucking mob food chain, is smirking at the two of them. Y/N smiles, silently congratulating herself when she doesn't flinch at Jack's hand on her back.

"We've been trying to set this meeting up for ages, it feels." Jack says with a smile, taking a quick glance around the room. He spots a couple of his agents milling about, which is good, because he's suer this time could go south immediately.

"Well, we've been busy." Antonio Colombo says unkindly, causing shivers to run up Y/N's arms. She's wearing a low cut dress, back and front, and the heels she's in are probably higher than any she's ever walked in. Jack offers her his arm as they begin to move, and she takes it gratefully.

"As you have been, I'm sure." The lady next to Antonio says, and Y/N's sure it's Beatrice, his wife.

"I've never heard of you, though, Adler." Beau Martin says, clucking his tongue. "Where did you say you were from?"

"Chicago." Jack answers, and Y/N just keeps the smile on, like she's been instructed to do. She helped design this mission, and all she has to do is not fuck it up.

"Huh," Antonio says, and Y/N wishes there was a way to somehow get the wives away from this place. As soon as they're out of the picture, the team can take out the mobsters and then everything will be fine.

Y/N's heart is racing.

"Well, I'm starving." Beau says, and they all head to the main table. It's clear that everyone else around them is only there because they have to be, that her and Jack are the main attraction.

"Right over here, then." Julia smiles, and Beau pulls out her chair of her. Jack does the same for Y/N, and she smiles at him and thanks him quietly.

"Why don't you three go make sure all the food is good?" Henry suggests, and the three wives nod and head out. Now is their chance. They just have to get a good shot.

Y/N wishes she could hear them, but Jack and her couldn't risk them seeing the ear pieces. They were in the dark, having to play their parts and wait. They just couldn't blow their covers.

"Mrs. Adler, would you like to go with them?" Antonio asked, and Y/N did not like the gleam in his eye.

"I'd feel more comfortable here. I'm sure you understand." She answers with a smile, trying to be as nice as possible.

"Alright," Henry says, small smirk on his face. "Well, we tried." He looks to the boys, who all have disgusting looks on their faces.

"Where'd you get that dress? I think Julia could use something that make her girls look that good." Beau looks down at Y/N's chest, and she blinks as she fights the urge to pull the dress up.

"Excuse me?" Jack chokes out, and Y/N breathes deeply, trying not to blow their cover.

"A boutique in Chicago." She says softly, trying to keep a smile on her face.

"Man, Adler, I don't know how you're keeping your hands to yourself right now. If she was my girl, I wouldn't even let her sit in her own chair." Henry takes a drink of the whiskey that had been poured before they had even gotten to the table, and Y/N's lips parted before she could think to keep the smile on her face.

"Good self control." Jack is grabbing his own drink, white knuckling it as he tries to keep from jumping across the table and hitting these guys.

"That can't be your only secret." Henry smirks, and Y/N finally looks over to see Jack grinding his jaw. He looks angry, really angry, and Y/N grabs his hand.

"When you've been together as long as we have, there's no reason to rush things." Y/N says calmly, wanting to move on.

"And just how long have you been together?" Antonio asks, tilting his head. "Because it looks like you came straight out of the burlesque." Y/N flinches, not sure what to say. Jack squeezes her hand, then looks around. It's now or never, and they don't want the wives to come back.

"I'm just saying, if you gave me a couple hours, even one, alone, Adler." Beau says, which makes the rest of them laugh and raise their glasses. Y/N wants to throw up, because here these men are, acting like she doesn't exist, like she is a piece of meat. She feels sick, and her face must show it, because Jack squeezes her hand even tighter. They're so close, they can't blow their cover now.

"And I'm sure Julia would love that." Jack says with the tilt of his head, causing everyone else to stop their laughs. Y/N can't help but jump when the first shot rings out, and then the next two in quick succession. Antonio had been sitting closest to her, and his blood splatters against her arm. She can barely register it, however, because Jack is grabbing her and holding her close, head tucked into his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" He whispers, only pulling back to look at her face. He takes his jacket off, putting it around her body.

"I'm okay." She says quietly, letting him take her into his arms again. "Take me out of here?" She asks, and when he puts his arm around her shoulder and pulls her in to lead her out of the club, which is now in a frenzy, she knows something has changed between them.

And she kind of likes it. 

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler @theoraekenslover

[raineandsky]

#73

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8) (part 9) (part 10) (part 11)

tw: blood

The late shift was never particularly kind to the villain. It’s when villains are the most active—and so the heroes are more so too. The cover of night is meant to make crime easier, but the heroes are out in droves at this time and the cover of night turns out to, actually, not cover shit.

Their front door clanks shut behind them, a relieved sigh slipping from their lips. Their eyes trace down the hall—to their bedroom, hell yes—and catch their kitchen door swinging shut.

The evening’s tiredness is evaporated in a second. The villain’s hand is inside their coat on instinct, the feeling of the well-loved knife hilt in their hand a much-needed comfort as they start down the hall.

They push the door open slowly, wishing that they oiled its hinges last week. They peer inside from the safety of the hallway—there’s… nothing in there. It’s just as they left it this afternoon. Except, no, wait—

There’s a handprint on their windowsill. Shiny, still wet, and crimson red.

Invisibility is a habit by now. They glide through the kitchen quietly, their footsteps practised, their coat blending them into the gloom, to glance down at the blood staining the wood. They look outside, back in, across the kitchen. What the– this bitch has been in their fridge.

They open it, letting the light blind them momentarily. Well, there’s a lot of food they’re going to have to throw out now. Specks of blood taint most of this. They glance back, the yellowing light brightening the room and their face, and they hear a very muffled, presumably very unintentional, “shit”.

The fridge slams shut and sinks the room back into darkness. There’s a red trail trickled over the tile floor, leading straight to their pantry.

The villain adjusts their knife in their grasp, creeping towards the little cupboard. They pause outside, heaving a heavy sigh in preparation before tugging the door out and thrusting their blade into the darkness beyond. 

“This is no place for a petty thief,” they say whilst their eyes adjust. It’s darker in there without the streetlamps outside invading. “I’m giving you a chance to get out before I cut you to shreds.”

Someone squeaks from inside. “P–Please don’t!” they cry, and the villain squints suspiciously. They can just see the figure of the person pressed into the back of their pantry.

They fumble for the light switch, showering the tiny room in dull light. Of all people the villain expected to rob them, well, they weren’t really expecting to see—

“[Hero]?” they demand incredulously, and the hero winces. They squeak again when the villain gets the mind to shove their knife against their throat. “How the hell do you know where I live?”

“I– I don’t!” the hero cries. “I didn’t know you lived here, I swear!”

The villain narrows their eyes disbelievingly. “So, what? You break into people’s houses now? Doesn’t sound very agency-friendly.”

The hero’s eyes nervously slip to the bloodstained fridge behind them. “I– I’m hiding.”

An admission of weakness. They’re hiding.

Sirens shriek outside. Blue and red dance merrily on the ceiling. “From what?”

“From [Superhero].”

From the superhero. The villain doesn’t doubt that they’re hiding. The hero looks terrified—though they do have a knife slowly drawing blood at their throat, they suppose. But from the superhero?

“Why?”

The hero swallows nervously. They won’t meet the villain’s eye. “I did something wrong,” they say quietly. “Really wrong. [Superhero]’s practically out for my blood now. I can’t be trusted.”

The sound that comes out of the hero is either a laugh or a sob. It’s hard to tell. “So you’re hiding from him,” the villain finishes.

The hero nods before they remember the blade resting on their skin. “Yeah.”

“And so you’re hiding… in my pantry.”

“... Yeah.”

“And you helped yourself to some of my fridge.”

The hero has the decency to flush in embarrassment. “I’ll replace it. I was desperate.”

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t kill you right now,” the villain says lowly, “or throw you back into the street.”

Clearly the hero didn’t think this far. They lick their lips, their wide-eyed gaze finally meeting the suspicious squint of the villain’s. “I can– I could do something for you?”

“You dying would do me a great favour.”

The hero swallows again, and their stare turns nervously outward again. “I– I don’t know. I don’t have any of my weapons, I’m not dangerous.”

“You get in fist fights.”

“I usually lose those.”

The hero laughs, the sound taut with anxiety. The villain leans away from them slightly, letting their blade sit a little lighter on them. “I have an idea,” they say flatly.

“Yeah,” the hero says instantly.

“I need a maid.” The hero’s face falls slightly at the wording, and the villain grins ecstatically. “I have the clothes. You work on my whim, without snooping, and you can sleep on the sofa.”

“Isn’t there anything less humiliating I could do?” they ask quietly. God no, the villain thinks. The humiliation is part of the fun.

“I could let you stay in my basement,” they offer pointedly, and the hero grimaces, “if you’re so attached to the clothes you’re wearing.”

Sirens whoop outside. The villain glances at the blood trails on the floor. “I’m going to clean this up before your friends inevitably bust the door down,” they say. “We can talk business when I get rid of them. Stay in there. If I so much as hear from you, they can have you. Got it?”

The hero nods numbly. “Yeah.”

And with that, the villain flicks the light off and slams the door on them.

Cleaning is easy enough, though they’ll need to mop later—or the hero will. They turn over a few pieces of furniture, drag a few drawers open, and then they casually let themself out the front door with a giant, full backpack.

The police are exactly where they wanted them. They spot the villain halfway out of the garden.

“Thief!” one of them cries. “Stop in the name of the law!”

The villain turns on their heel and bolts for the back of the house.

This part is easy. Lose the police in the city, wait for them to clear out from their house, loop back home. They’ll never suspect that the villain lives there. God, they’d have some problems if they did.

The next part is the fun one. They have a hero to blackmail—and by god, are they going to use that to their advantage.

Next part

[stargirlfeyre]

You can tell the type of person someone is based on how they react to Lucien’s friendship with Tamlin.

There are typically two reactions people have when realizing that their friends are morally fucked up individuals.

They either A: Cut all ties with them because friendships are not worth losing your standards and morals over.

Or they B: Defend that friend simply because they are friends. They know that their actions are wrong and they know that what they’re doing isn’t acceptable. Yet they still stick beside him/her because of that bond. It’s a “yeah you’re hurting people but you’re someone I care about so I’m not really going to hold you accountable for it” mindset. It’s a coward’s mindset.

Given how much Lucien’s fans defend his actions, which one do you think they’ve adopted?

There is something so sinister about justifying Lucien’s enabling of an abuser simply because that abuse has known him and has done more for him than the person being abused. If you stand by your friend whilst they commit literal crimes against women then I mean this whole heartedly, you are just as bad as them. Having this sense of blind loyalty towards someone to the point that you put your bond above morals makes you a terrible person.

I don’t care how long Lucien has known Tamlin. I don’t care how Tamlin has saved or helped him. Once he saw Tamlin start to physically hurt Feyre he should have known that his actions had gone too far. Once he saw Tamlin almost murder her he should have known that his actions had gone too far. Once he saw Tamlin walk away whilst Feyre had a panic attack and begged him to let her out of the house he should have known that his actions had gone too far. But he didn’t. He had a first hand account to all of these instances and yet Lucien still holds out hope that he will one day reunite with Tamlin and they will run off into fields of flowers together holding hands.

And his fandoms doesn’t see a problem with it because to them, it makes sense that Lucien would have this undying loyalty towards Tamlin despite everything he has done. Because the amount of time you have know someone trumps all else.

Let me put it this way.

If you have a friend who you have known for a long time that raped someone, would you still stick beside them? Would you defend them against all else simply because of your preconceived bond with them? Would you forgo all semblance of deceny, morals, humanity, and self-respect for them?

I am being so serious when I say I genuinely fear for the people in your lives if you think turning a blind eye to domestic violence is justifiable if the aggressor is someone you know.

[dragonfly0808]

Musa’s Discography Pt. 1

Yes, I spend way too long thinking about stuff like this about my characters leave me alone ajajajjaaa

But srly like 2 people have asked me about this and I’ve spent way too long thinking about what Musa discography would actually be like so… here is her discography with a way too detailed description of why I chose each of the songs, I had way too much fun with this.

First EP. Written in the later half of s2 and before s3 published in the summer between s2 and s3

I had no specific ‘theme’ for this one, just songs I felt fit Musa’s mentality and would be cool for her first project

For the first EP, which consists of:

The Beginning by Madison Beer.

I just really love this intro it’s a gorgeous showcase of vocals and it’s beautiful and perfect.

I Hate the Way by Sofia Carson.

I love this song. Musa would base if mostly off of Riven’s epic screw up in s2 ch27. Also the guitar solo part feels perfect for her.

Whispers by Halsey.

I can’t quite explain why but this song is so Musa-coded to me. At least my version of her. She builds walls up and tries to not care and fails miserably every time. Also touches slightly on the depression that she def never adressed before going to Alfea and meeting the girls

Run and Hide by Sabrina Carpenter.

I feel like this song fits Musa’s mentality in s1 and part of s2 perfectly especially when it comes to romantic love. ‘Started thinking love’s a loaded gun, nobody wants to fight’ ‘If you can’t hide run, if you can’t run hide’ ‘I don’t wanna run I don’t wanna hide’ it’s just perfect for how she used to think and I really love the idea of her writing this precisely as she starts to let go of that mentality

favorite crime by Olivia Rodrigo.

This would be a more story-telling type song written with Helia cause I feel like putting those two together they would absolutely go full story tellers and poem-like lyrics and this feels like smth they would absolutely write one night they couldn’t sleep cause they love a good sob love story

Ribs by Lorde.

Written about the Winx and the Specialists with a sprinkle of dreading growing up

Second EP. Written during the first half of s3, published right before Winter Break

This one did have a slight ‘theme’ to it since it was mostly written while she was fighting with Riven over secrets on both sides and she was very frustrated with herself and projecting a bit on him.

Hard to Love by Rose.

This feels very Musa-coded to me. She has that instinct of ‘oh shoot I’m loved? Fucking run for the hills!’ But more like… again, she builds walls. So I can see her writing this one night very frustrated with herself like, why am I like this?

Rock Bottom by Hailee Steinfeld.

I love this song and I feel like it suits Rivusa so perfectly in the first half of s3 ‘We’re on the right side of rock bottom and I hope that we keep falling. We’re on the good side of bad karma, cause we keep on coming back for more. We’re on the right side of rock bottom, and to you I just keep crawling. You’re the best kind of bad smth, cause we keep on coming back for more.’ Literally them at this point before they learn to properly communicate. Also ‘what are we fighting for? Seems like we do it just for fun.’ Love this song

Monster in Me by Little Mix.

Another song that suits them when they’re at rock bottom. ‘Touch me, why don’t we kill each other slowly?’ ‘The monster in me loves the monster in you’. Def can see Musa writing this when she’s frustrated with herself and Riv cause she knows why they’re both screwed up but can’t quite figure out how to get past it

when the party’s over by Billie Eilish.

This was when, for a moment Musa considered just calling it quits cause she wonders if maybe they’re both too fucked up to make it work and she wrote this whilst in depression. She also realized that she was hurting him by picking fights and not being honest and wrote this in response to that realization

Midnight Rain by Taylor Swift.

This one was also co-written by Helia, they went for another story-telling not-to-be love story.

False God by Taylor Swift.

Another song that feels oh so Rivusa-coded to me. Like, cmon this is one of those songs that played in the back of my head every single time I had them argue in s3 and feels like the perfect song to end an album all about fighting the one you love

Winx Rewrite Masterlist

Part 2

[mimicrygrievous]

so i’ve been listening to Yandere by Jazmin Bean for an hour plus on loop having visions of Dust/Killer SO here it goes

And, like, again. I’m unsure about using the mature warning sliders things bc i’ve seen way worse posts that don’t use sliders at all and i assume i’m using em wrong— so like tell me if i need to adjust my warnings slash hashtags at all— but yandere + canonical mass murderers i feel like it’s probably obvious where i’m going with this ya’know—

this got out of hand man i’m supposed to be actually finishing a fucking second chapter of my first fic—

okay damnit this is a full on thing now fuck it’s been in my draft for days i’ll make a tag and continue this later fuck

Alright so. It’s a Yandere X Yandere type beat. I’m thinking Killer is roomies with Cross. Dust is roomies with Horror. Horror and Cross meet. Become friends. Be like hey we should get both our roomies and have a nice night out. Cool. Nothing crazy. (This is probably like a modern gang/crime au of some sort) And unfortunately Killer and Dust just have that love at first sight moment. Maybe for that first night they’re all cute together and they’re enamored by each other and they get on way better than Cross and Horror were expecting and they get all wrapped up in their own little world like they’re on their first date. And they just know that the other is theirs, instantly. That is the one.

So as he rizzes up Dust, Killer is on guard about how everybody acts around Dust. He’s keeping tabs on people. He’s mentally noting the kinds of people ticking Dust off. He’s mentally noting the people making goo-goo eyes at Dust. He’s making a potential hit list, if need be.

Dust is analyzing their night out as well, in a different way. Whilst Killer is watching out for what he considers threats, Dust is watching Killer. An address, is the first thing Dust needs, but he’s not going to ask directly and risk being too forwardly creepy. He’s going to get it from either Cross or Horror at the first opportunity. Other than that, Dust is in the moment. Keeping track of material preferences. Emotional responses. Behavior. Psychoanalyzing Killer in a way that isn’t as immediately crazy as Killer making a potential hit list whilst hopped up on his obsessive LV. Killer is paying attention to Dust’s worldly desires as well, don’t get me wrong, but not to the extent that Dust is scraping Killer for information.

Killer has LV up the ass. This doesn’t bother Dust, practically everybody he knows has LV. Dust’s LV is high, but it’s been a long time since he last gained any. He his primary methods are blackmail, extortion, emotional manipulation and the like nowadays.

When they part, Killer is fine at first, whilst Dust drowns himself in ‘work,’ gathering all the information on Killer as he possibly can, as if he’s going to be the next desperate soul Dust ruins into nothing. On record, Dust doesn’t find much of anything recent, but he was expecting that.

See, Horror and Dust are employed by Error (and Ink, seeing as they run the same shitshow, but Dust and Horror are Error’s go-tos.) Whereas Killer and Cross are employed by Nightmare and Dream. Dust doesn’t know who exactly they’re working for (yet) but knows they likely have a competent boss due to Horror meeting Cross through a joint-mission. Error wouldn’t risk his ass working with someone who wasn’t at least almost as good as Error at subterfuge.

Dust resigns himself to figuring out Killer’s boss at a later date, and begins plotting ways to stalk him that wouldn’t raise any red flags on the radar of any eyes in the sky looking out for him. He’s the obsessive photographer type. The type to plant bugs and cameras if he thought he could get away with it with someone like Killer, who he suspects is thoroughly trained already. He probably does. Very meticulously. They’re in their own safe house. They’ll go on paranoid house searches every once in a while, surely. But if Dust is sporadic and unpredictable about when he has eyes on the house . . . He can probably get away with it. Not every day. Not even most days, can he track Killer within his own place, but some days. He gets away with it.

He’s unseen. Careful. And if every once in a while somebody causing Killer a concerning amount of trouble loses their job? Or files for bankruptcy? Or gets outted for a life-destroying secret they’ll have to spend years, if not their whole life cleaning up? Well, that’s just a coincidence the annoyance ended up on Error’s shit list.

Now, I’m sure Cross and Horror start planning more meet ups between them all, after seeing how well Dust and Killer get on (although they’re obvious to just HOW badly they get on with each other at first, like water and oil or fire and something or whatever the saying is) but Dust and Killer don’t really talk outside of these meet-ups, or to set up their own meet-ups at first. They’re being extremely careful about coming off as creepy and scaring the other off. The longer they go without seeing each other, the more they escalate.

Killer doesn’t even feel the need to kill anybody who he thought slighted Dust during the first couple of days apart (unless it was a really fucking bad, insta-kill type interaction.) But he keeps the people he clocked in mind, bc he knows how he gets. He knows, if he doesn’t get to see Dust, he’s going to spiral. When he thinks back on their last meeting, every time, the people he listed seem to behave more and more unforgivably. In his memory, they seem to behave worse and worse until Killer is fucking pissed at himself for not killing them brutally sooner. He doesn’t have any remorse for any of his hits, once he comes back to his senses, but he can eventually admit, oh yeah I may have overreacted there whoopsie how quirky of me UwU

Any named characters would be in the clear btw. Like maybe a grain of salt towards the roomies for actually knowing the target of their affections before they get together for real, but I personally am soft and don’t like when yanderes get rid of people their love usually likes. ┐(´ー｀)┌┐(´ー｀)┌┐(´ー｀)┌ I like dark shit but happy endings. This is why I suspect I dark/comship in a vanilla way.

Eventually Dust gets his grubby phalanges on the knowledge of who Killer’s boss is, and this opens up many new routes as to stalk Killer whilst knowing how to keep himself hidden. (No, he’s not telling Error about his obsession so he has some more leeway, are you fucking kidding? He’d force him to hang out socially with Killer more in order to stop fucking putting everything at risk god that would be the worst.) And eventually starts getting some polaroids of Killer covered in blood or disposing bodies or on jobs and such. If it’s not a job, but a personal grievance, Dust can typically tell by the methods of torture. He always seems to have fun either way, but missions have ulterior motives, even if the victim is ultimately sentenced to death whether or not Killer gets what he needs. He’ll notice the murder spikes/Killer’s absence from his house when Killer gets antsier than usual. Dust has pretty much clocked everything, except that the semi-frequent and a bit more messier than missions ‘LV spikes’ are linked to him via Killer’s lovesickness. He doesn’t recognize the people who ‘slighted’ him. Half of them he hadn’t actually noticed at all, half of them weren’t memorable enough to remember. Killer moves too fast on the victims that are memorable for Dust to even notice. Dust isn’t usually preoccupied with keeping tabs on Killer within the last few hours of them seeing each other, after all.

Cross knows Killer is offing people that aren’t mission related bc Nm is bitching about all the inconvenience it’s causing him. (He likely knows the behavior’s root cause just bc he understands why Killer is the way he is, but isn’t privy to who is causing this reaction just yet. Bc yes, if he knew his underling’s obsession was in Error’s pocket, they would be easy to glue together.)

Dust is probably meticulous enough to leave at times where Horror doesn’t even realize he’s gone for the longest time, but eventually he starts noticing a pattern despite Dust’s caution. A concerning pattern. A pattern he had thought Dust left behind long ago. Horror begins to think that Dust is LV-hunting and spiking again, and starts to pay attention.

(I wanna maybe see if I could write a quick scene of Horror finding the pics. And later on, Killer with his hands on Dust’s shoulders, pushing him to his knees while Dust presses his teeth to Killer’s knuckles. There is so much more I have to add to this actually all bc of one song brain why I’m TRYING to write something else—)

[bullet-prooflove]

5000 Follower Celebration: Postcards From My Heart - Terry Silver x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @thedeadsingforme @eddieslut69 @mia1653 @kimbergoldess

Companion piece to:

Attention - Terry hasn't been paying you enough attention.

Distance - Terry and you struggle with emotional distance as the embezzlement case continues.

Prequel to:

Twenty Four Hours - You come home from your trip to spend 24 hours with your husband.

The embezzlement investigation takes hold when Terry reports the crime to the FBI. He’s spent months trying to untangle it on his own and now it’s gotten to the point where he’s forced to hand over all the details to the authorities or risk looking complicit.

The unfortunate part to all of this is that he has to make himself available to investigators, which means he has to stay in the city while you undertake the gallery tour across Europe you’ve had planned for over a year now.

Ever since the exhibition with the paper airplanes went viral, galleries from around the world have been requesting both you and your artwork’s presence at their venues. They want to discuss the programs you’ve been undertaking and how to implement them in their own locations whilst showcasing your paintings.

You end up going alone and it kills Terry because things between the two of you, they’re still not entirely right after the night you asked him if he was seeing someone else. He’s tried to be more attentive but the embezzlement it’s eating up both his time and his energy. He doesn’t even get to see you off at the airport because he’s trapped in a meeting with federal investigators. You don’t say how much it disappoints you but he feels it viscerally as he tracks your flight right out of his orbit.

He worries that this trip, the distance between the two of you, it’ll be the thing that kills your marriage especially when he misses three of your calls in a row over a series of days. He tries calling you back but with the time difference, you just keep missing each other.

When the postcard arrives his heart sinks, it’s an image of the small chapel where the two of you married in Tuscany. He’s filled with an intense sadness because this was the real reason he wanted to take the trip, he’d been planning to surprise you, review your vows there and then the whole thing had gotten fucked up and now you’re barely exchanging texts.  

By the time the postcard arrives from Paris you’ve been gone almost a fortnight. Terry’s eating breakfast alone, preparing for another lengthy day of depositions when the call comes through.

“Guess where I am.” You say as you appear on the screen and something in Terry’s chest just settles.

After so many missed connections he’s been dreading this call because he’s adamant it’s going to be the one where you tell him you’re done with all of this but then he sees the expression on your face and for Terry, it could light up an entire room.

“Tell me.” He urges, his voice soft and you alter the camera to show him the bench in the gallery where the two of you met. You zoom in closely and there’s a tiny heart with both of your initials drawn in the corner in black sharpie.

“Georgia,” He says fondly. “Did you deface a bench in the Louvre?”

“I’m hoping they kinda take it like a Banksy.” You tell him before turning the camera back so he can see your face. “You know how he just turns up, graffitis something and then disappears. I’ve been doing it everywhere we’ve been together on this trip. I even tagged the church.”

“You did not!” He smiles because he realises what you’ve been doing whilst you’ve been on tour, you’ve been marking your relationship, making it indelible. He can’t describe how that makes him feel, to know that you’ve been thinking about him, that you’ve been leaving the evidence of your marriage on landmarks all around the world.  

“I did.” You assure him. “Right on the pew you got a little handsy that time whilst we were waiting for the priest.”

“You were wearing that white sundress.” He reminds you, propping his chin up on his hand. “Can you blame me for defiling you in a church?"

You blush then, the pink tinge climbing your cheeks because he’d made you come on his fingers on that pew, it had been embarrassingly easy because you’d gotten off on the deviance of it all.

“You look tired.” You say quietly as you settle yourself on the bench. “How are the depositions going?”

“Monotonous.” He tells you with a weary smile. “I feel like it’s taken ten years off my life.”

“Do you need me to come home?” You ask him, the concern evident in your features. “I’m sure there’s a flight I could grab…”

The fact you’re willing to cut this trip short if he needs it, it speaks volumes about your headspace about the relationship, just like your actions have. He can’t ask you to return to him, not when you’re doing such excellent work out there, not when you’re having so much fun.

“No baby girl, don’t come back until you’re ready.” He murmurs before he props his phone up against the salt shaker. “Now tell me more about your travels.”

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[ladykatdollx]

Some of my Oz headcannons <3

•He just gives me true gentleman vibes😫I know he’s MENTAL but for you he has a soft spot, he’ll open doors for you (he defo checks you out as he walks behind you), calls you “love” “darling” “pretty girl” “sweetheart”, carry you over rough ground if you’re wearing heels. Just things like that🫶

•he’s secretly a true romantic even though he may not show it sometimes, he’ll kiss your neck and breathe heavily, play with your hair and hold your hand. He definitely gets jealous and protective over you and is always prepared to fight somebody if someone approaches you and won’t leave you alone.

•I feel like he’s an animal lover, considering his crime name is literally Penguin…Telltales backstory I’m not actually sure how he got his name, loves birds especially. He’d be the type to laugh at penguins waddling and sliding into the water at a zoo.

•I feel like he’s life in England was great for him and he low-key misses it, as that’s where he was brought up, especially his criminal life and being a boxer, boxing ring proprietor. I feel like he may have had a few flings or maybe a relationship but it just didn’t work out and it may have made him feel shit deep down, then resorting to drinking and other bad influences (such as gambling etc) to get over it, but that’s something he’d probably never admit, he puts on his overly confident, loud and tough boy personality to cover it. Also, when him and Bruce were good friends, Bruce definitely got more attention, especially female attention and it may have had an effect on Oz, thinking that he wasn’t as handsome as Bruce and couldn’t pull girls like Bruce could (even though Oz has natural charm and IS A HANDSOME MAN NOW😫he’d have all of us over him <3)

•he’d defo invite you to watch him at a boxing match, he’ll brush his hair back and flex in front of you to impress you and he’ll do the most to make sure he wins that fight, he couldn’t bare the thought of losing in-front of you.

•I’m not entirely sure how he really feels about the scar across his nose bridge, I feel like sometimes he looks in the mirror to look at it, getting flashbacks to the fight he had that caused it, but he probably laughs it off and thinks it looks cool. But even if he did feel insecure you’ll tell him it’s attractive, which would make him feel better.

•he got prison tattoos in prison FOR SURE AND TELLTALE WE NEED A TOPLESS 3D MODEL OF HIM

•if he’s had some trouble he’d come and find you, you are his peace and comfort, especially if he’s had a brutal fight, I feel like he’d lay down with his head resting on your lap whilst you sort his face out, he’ll groan due to the pain tho.

•I know it’s sort of contrasting to the point I said above this but although he’s highly protective of you, if you were willing to join him in the criminal underworld, he’d feel unsure but deep down he’d love you to be by his side.

•he has a good and silly sense of humour, I love his British humour throughout season 1, especially as me being a British girl. For those who remember episode 5 when Bruce gets back into the computer and Oz used the comic sans font to type “cobblepot enterprises” LMAOO and changing Bruce’s medical history💀💀I can just imagine him messing around and being stupid with you, like maybe physically annoying you too😭

•defo gets drunk on a Friday and Saturday night and is painfully loud but is funny as hell when he’s drunk

•absolutely HATES these young wannabe gangsters that think they’re hard, they irritate him, he thinks they’re dickheads and will say something like “they have no bloody idea of the real world…twats” as he shakes his head

•probably not best to ask him about how him and Bruce’s friendship, he’ll give you a look and you’ll know to stop talking, or he’ll be like “I don’t wanna talk about it, alright?” And he may get annoyed. Although he will eventually open up to you about his parents and how badly he misses his mother especially.

•has a shocking sleep schedule but he’ll happily let you sleep, he’ll keep checking up on you and may sit down on the bed and watch you for a while, when he eventually gets tired he’ll lay down beside you and wrap his arm around you.

•he loves his old fashioned style and thinks modern fashion especially modern men’s fashion is SHITE

•I KNOW ITS BIG I KNOW ITS BIG!!!!

[angelmichelangelo]

another thing i wanna add to my b-team tirade is that i think donnie is also mikey’s #1 defender. like if raph is being a little too aggro or mean to mikey one day donnie will tell him to fuck off or what have you. and mikey will do the same if leo is badgering donnie about deadlines with their equipment. idk i just love the youngest siblings bonding by being exasperated at their older bros

this is exactly why 2007 b-team hits so different. they’re all they’ve got in the world for some time, and they team up, above and beyond crime fighting and little brother shenanigans. they’re each others entire centre of gravity whilst leo is off doing his thing and raph is being a recluse. they stick up for each other because for a long long time, nobody else will. eugh boy i just have so many deep visceral feelings about the 2007 b-team. they’re so fun to write — i need to make a mental note to do something with them soon lol

but yes to everything you said here. i really adore that their dynamic goes strong throughout each iteration, something im very much looking forward to seeing explored in the new series and new move :))

[blissfullyapillow]

Rejoice! For yours truly has arrived! >:D

I request for another matchup, because I can’t get enough of them <3 Also because last night, I dreamt about Lyney…? So I’m craving for a angsty story with a happy ending 😅

Anyways, I realize that you chose the men based on my “will-absolutely-marry-them” list (AKA the list of Genshin and HSR males I have a huge crush on), and I’d like to say that you’re not obligated to use ONLY the ones on the list. I’ll be happy with whatever ones you think suit me best 💕

Of course, you have the freedom to do whatever you like, so if you still want to choose them only by the list, that’s up to you!

Sincerely,

~Somewhat-a-tsundere-Anon~ 🫠

Notes: ONE OF MY FAVORITE CUSTOMERS!! Lol welcome back Somewhat-a-tsundere-Anon!! I’ll be honest it’s been a coincidence that you’ve been match with your favs! Yes I did take it into consideration but when picking who I’d match you with I really only chose based on personality only and not whether you may or may not be head over heels with them if that makes sense haha. I’m glad it’s turned out that way though! :> I hope you enjoy this one as much the others <3

Masterlist

⛓ 𓆩 ♡ 𓆪. 🗡 

I match you with: Wriothesley

Credits: ryuciii on pinterest

⛓ 𓆩 ♡ 𓆪. 🗡 

He’s your outwardly intimidating boyfriend who's secretly the biggest softie in the world (although it’s kinda obvious to everyone except him). 

He’d find you absolutely adorable, almost worth coddling in a way; for instance, your dislike for spiders, snakes, and wasps never fails to warm his heart in a weird way. Honestly, he likes it when you come to him to kill something for you.

A BIG softie. He’s big on flirting too, never wasting an opportunity to tease with something sweet and/or suggestive. If there’s an alarm going off in the Fortress of Meropide and it’s something minor he knows the others can handle, he’ll literally stay with you and cover your ears for you to block out the noise. 

Otherwise, he’ll waste no time pressing a kiss to your cheek before he’s running out to take care of business; all so the alarm will be turned off sooner and you can rest easy. 

He is your BIGGEST hype man when you’re being overly confident. Even if you’re in the wrong, he will back you up and defend you with no hesitation.

Avid supporter of any shenanigans you find yourself in, willing to go along with them and cause a bit of mischief. On a rare day he may scold you and hold you in his office lest you cause others trouble, but more often than not he’s accompanying you.

A huge fan of physical touch, but will only indulge in what you’re comfortable with. If you let him, he’ll happily sit at his desk with you in his lap as he works the hours away whilst you do your own thing. 

He may purposefully phrase something in a confusing manner, chuckling when you’re wandering around clearly confused. You STILL don’t know the layout of the Fortress of Meriopide and Wriothesley finds it very endearing. 

He will not hesitate to beat someone up or even kill someone for you. Depending on your morals and how bad the offense was the perpetrator may be suspiciously missing from the fortress the following day; spoiler alert: no one cares that they’re gone.

Wriothesley will do grand gestures for you during special holidays since he knows you can be a bit of a romantic. Even if you object he’ll still find a way to shower you with love and praise on that special day; don’t be mistaken, he does that everyday, but on special days he’ll amp his efforts tenfold. 

Que memories of cheesy valentine’s day with a huge bouquet of roses Wriothesley prepared himself, with heartfelt letters and fancy dinners. If you really don’t like that, he is happy to spend a more casual day with you but he will definitely have something up his rolled up sleeves for later. 

If you tease him by yanking or playing with his tie, he will be putty in your hands. You can tell him to commit a crime and he’d do it for you. “I’m already in the Fortress of Meropide anyway. What are they going to do? Kick me out?” You had to scold him for that comment. 

There was a time where he was nervous you’d leave him, when you learned of his past, but when you not only reassured him, but held him close to you after he confined in you…; let’s just in that moment he knew you were the only one for him. 

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ ˚୨୧ ⋆ ｡

“Sweetheart, why are you so far away?” Wriothesley is pouting because you’re on the other side of the room, hyperfocused on the task at hand. You ignore him as you put your best effort forth to finish before he walks over to you; you know the moment he has you in his arms you’ll be unable to focus.

Wriothesley picks up on it, of course he does, but he blatantly ignores it as he makes his way over to you. You’re working fast now, determined to get this done. You miraculously finish your task right as Wriothesley plops himself behind you, drawing your back firmly against his chest.

You swear he purrs as he buries his head into your shoulder, nuzzling you. You can only sigh in faux exasperation as you finally allow yourself to relax, melting into his touch.

“I missed you.” Wriothesley murmurs. “I was in the same room with you the whole day.” You laugh as you dismiss his sentiment, but he only grunts, ignoring you. 

“You big baby.” “Only yours.” His words cause your face to warm and a soft giggle to escape you, and the sound brings a smile to his face.

“Can we spend the rest of the day like this?” His question doesn’t even seem like a question to you; he already knows the answer. When you lean into him further, placing your hands on top of his, he knows his assumption was correct. 

Dedicated to,

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ somewhat a tsundere anon ⁺˚⋆｡