@sharplmages ABSOLUTELY,,,,, I forgot what hands are halfway through but yes I’m always a slut for shimamine thank u for your request and your kind words 🌸✨🌺 also I highkey hc that Minegishi’s vines tend to grow out of control when he is flustered, just in case anyone enjoys that hc as much as i do
Your boyfriend, Stefan got into it with some werewolf that was flirting with you at a party, which caused him to get bit. And as of right now, Klaus’ blood is the only source that Stefan knows of to cure a wolf bite, so he insisted on going to New Orleans to get it because Stefan is the only one out of the group that is friends with the original hybrid himself.
Stefan made sure to call Klaus beforehand and thankfully, Klaus agreed to do him this favor even though he is a busy man. And since you go wherever your boyfriend goes, you packed any needed essentials for your visit there.
Arriving to New Orleans, Klaus insisted on meeting at a bar called “Rousseau’s” located in the French Quarter. A round of shots was already waiting for the three of you at the bar with Klaus exchanging words with the blonde bartender. When the bartender noticed your arrival, she went back to working.
“Stefan. Long time no see.” Klaus greeted Stefan with a pat on the back.
“If it isn’t the big bad hybrid.” Stefan took a seat on the bar stool.
“Hello, love.” Klaus gave you a hug, towering over you.
“Hey Klaus. New Orleans is stunning.” You replied.
“I’d enjoy showing you…and Stefan around.”
“You sure you got the time?” Stefan asked.
“Nonsense. Matter a fact, Elijah should arrive shortly. But I can’t forget to give you what you came for.” Klaus pulled out a vile from his pocket that was already pre-filled with his blood, handing it to Stefan without caring about being low key about it.
“Very much appreciated, Klaus.” Stefan chugs the vile of Klaus’ blood, then takes his shot and leaves to go use the bathroom.
While Stefan was gone, you and Klaus did the usual ‘cheers’ with your shot of liquor and even talked a bit about the craziness going on in his life in New Orleans. He even flashed you that crooked smile thing he does that women lusted after. You love Stefan so it didn’t get to you at all.
Stefan comes back from the restroom and in his view, it seems as if Klaus is being a little too friendly with you from the laughs and smiles the two of you are exchanging. It does make Stefan a little uneasy since he is the jealous type.
You see finally see Elijah walk in, so you go over to greet him with hug. He always was your favorite Mikaelson brother.
This is when Stefan finds it as the perfect opportunity to ‘set Klaus straight’. He stands behind Klaus, leaning to his ear to speak in a low tone so that you wouldn’t hear. “Speak a word to my girl other than ‘hello’ again and I’ll rip your throat out, alright?” Stefan threatened.
Klaus smirked. He always found it amusing getting under people’s skin. “Oh Stefan, I never sought out for you to be the jealous type. I’ve always seen Damon fit the narrative.”
Stefan sure has some balls to threaten the one man that literally saved his life.
A flash of blue eyes with brow furrowed, a glimpse of a moody scowl, tall and broad–the man at the other end of the bar is beautiful, and someone needs to tell him right now.
But Charles has drunk too much even for him. He’s not as suave and flirtatious as he usually is. So he just turns to the bartender and says politely, “I’d like to buy the man at the end a drink.”
The bartender, Maria, who has known him for three years and knows all his ways, smirks. “He won’t appreciate it,” she warns. “He’s been in here every night for a month and he refuses every time anyone tries to buy for him.”
“I’ll try anyway.”
So Maria shrugs, and goes down to the man to tell him. He looks at her in confusion, then annoyance; he turns to glower the way she’s pointing… and suddenly he looks confused again. Charles smiles. The man’s eyes widen, and he looks away quickly. Charles feels a surge of triumph.
But all the man orders is a shot, and after he’s taken it, he leaves–flees, almost, before Charles can even stand.
For the next month, Charles finds himself in the same bar at the same time every night, sitting in the same place. He still flirts with everyone, and drinks too much, but he also buys the man drinks. He never finds a good time to go over and talk to him, and it occurs to him after three weeks that he doesn’t really want to. He likes this arrangement. Admire him from afar, dream of his beautiful face, buy him a drink. Smile when he graces Charles with a shy look (because they are shy and that makes him feel tingly and breathless).
Until one night Raven comes with him. She notices the way Charles looks for the man at the end of the bar, and snorts.
“So it’s true,” she sighs as they slide on to their stools. “You’re in love.”
“I’m not in love!” Charles protests, surprised. “Whatever gave you that idea?”
“Everyone knows you’re in love,” she replies gently, like he’s a small child. “You’re not really keeping it a secret.”
“There are no secrets to keep,” Charles grumbles, glancing at the man at the end of the bar. He has his customary scowl on, but when he sees Charles looking, he looks down at his beer. Charles feels all tingly again, and turns back to Raven with a smile. She smirks, and orders a cola.
People seem especially aggressive in their flirtations tonight, and once or twice Charles has to come right out and say he’s not interested. One woman scowls and spits, “It’s true. You do love him.”
“I am not in love!” Charles denies exasperatedly.
The woman snorts and stomps out.
Charles buys the man at the end of the bar a drink.
The night continues in the same vein, and Charles is forced to leave early. Not literally; but he doesn’t like being approached by what feels like everyone in the bar. Surely not all of them are interested in him?
He doesn’t notice the man at the end of the bar has followed him out until someone clears their throat behind him. He turns, ready to fight off potential suitors–but it’s just the man he’s been treating, looking uncomfortable but determined.
“Erik,” he says, sticking out his hand.
“Charles,” Charles replies, shaking the hand and noticing with a little thrill that the reluctance to let go is on both sides. “I must say, it’s nice to put a name to your face.” A million different pickup lines fly through his head, every gene analyzed in a moment, but none of them seem… right.
“Same to you,” Erik mutters. Then he asks, “Why?”
“Why what?” Charles replies, surprised.
“Why do you… you keep…” And the most adorable thing happens. He blushes. Charles feels himself smile, because of course he’d be adorable.
“Buying you drinks?” Erik nods. “Because… I think you’re lonely. And being lonely is horrible. And I think you’re beautiful.”
Charles is probably a little drunker than he thought.
Erik looks surprised. Then he smiles, just the tiniest twitch of his lips. “You’re beautiful too,” he says.
It’s Charles’ turn to blush. But his smile is wide, as he says, “Thank you. Would you like to grab a pint with me and actually sit at a table?”
“Yes,” Erik answers quickly. Charles laughs softly and takes his hand. It’s large and warm and Charles likes holding it already.
“Shall we, then?” And he leads the way back inside.
HELLO!! ;) Soo I have a prompt for you... Keith has hiccups and his hiccups are adorable...what is Shiro's reaction?? Yes this is for the voltron family au
[The Voltron Family] Saturday morning. The whole family was eating by the breakfast table. Shiro handing more bacon to Hunk’s plate, Keith making sure Lance didn’t make a mess with his food. Pidge was being carried by Keith because she was still so sleepy and didn’t want to sit on the stool, plus, she loved nibbling Keith’s neck—she had an oral fixation at the age of four and no matter how much they try to correct it, she just really liked it.
Shiro: *looks at Keith* Want to switch? Keith: *caresses Pidge’s back* Nah, it’s fine. Let her be. Shiro: Keith, you know, one day you’re going to be headless because of your daughter. *chuckles* Keith: *glares* I’d rather die in the arms of my own daugh—
Before Keith could finish, he started to hiccup which caught him by surprise and everyone else in the kitchen. They all turned towards him.
Pidge: *stops and looks at Keith* Daddy? *tilts her head* Keith: Yes, sweet pe— *hiccups* *covers mouth* Pidge: *giggles in delight* *touches Keith’s cheeks* Daddy. Keith: *turns to Pidge* Pidge: *kisses Keith loudly with a smack on the cheek* Keith: *melting from so much affection* Awww, sw— *hiccups* Lance: *turns to Shiro* Daddy Shiro, what’s wrong with Daddy Keith? Why does he sound funny? *laughs* Shiro: *smiles* He has a hiccup, buddy. Hunk: *confused* Like from How To Train Your Dragon? *looks around* I don’t see him anywhere. *looks at Keith in horror* Did Daddy Keith eat Hiccup? Keith: *frowns* I didn’t *hiccups* baby *hiccups* Of cour— *hiccups* not. *grunts* Shiro: *stands up and gives Keith a glass* Why don’t you drink water, sweetheart? It might go away.
It didn’t. And Keith just glared at Shiro.
Shiro: Hmmm, maybe the kids might know a thing or two. *smirks* Lance: *taps Hunk* Use The Google, Hunk!! Hunk: *nods and grabs the iPad* *searches on google* *types* What. Do. We. Do. When. Daddy. Keith. Has. A. Hiccup. Shiro: *knows all the remedies but still joins the fun* So? Anything interesting to cure your Daddy, boys? *leans in* Hunk: *furrows eyebrows* The Google isn’t helping. There’s nothing. Shiro: *amused* Why don’t you delete “Daddy Keith,” maybe that will work? Hunk: *does what he’s told* Oh! There! Lance: *reads* It says one, hold your breath. Two, put a pinch of sugar under your tongue. Three, ask someone to scare you. *looks at Keith* Hey! We could do number three, Daddy Keith! Keith: No one *hiccups* Is *hiccups* going *hiccups* to scare *hiccups* Me! Hunk: Then let’s do number one. *turns to Keith* Hold your breath. Lance: And count to 100!!! *excited smile* Shiro: Your Daddy Keith might die if he counts to 100. 10 will do. Keith: *rolls his eyes* *nods* *holds his breath and mentally counts* All four: *looks at him expectantly* Keith: *hiccups* *frowns* All four: *groans collectively* Lance: The Google is a liar. *crosses arms* Hunk: Hey! Don’t be mean. It was just trying to help.
Keith still had hiccups as he went to the living room to get his phone, he was about to head back to the kitchen with his family when suddenly Lance appeared from behind the wall to scare him that he almost dropped his phone.
Keith: *shock* What the heck, Lance?! Lance: *giggles* Did I scare you? Did it work, Daddy Keith? Keith: *hiccups* *looks pointedly at Lance* Lance: Oh, sweet niblets. *stomps his foot in annoyance*
Keith just shook his head in amusement. He appreciated his son’s effort despite it being a failure. He turned around only to be surprised when Shiro pulled him into a deep kiss. Keith pulled Shiro closer as he smiled into their kiss and pushed them further away from the children’s sight. They tried to be quiet as much as possible but Shiro couldn’t help himself let out a giggle when he almost bumped into the railings of the stairs. Keith didn’t give a damn, it just gave him an opening and when Shiro bit his lower lip, he detached himself and glared at Shiro.
Keith: *offended* You bit me. Hard. How dare you? In my own house?!! Shiro: *smirks* Well, at least it worked. Keith: What? *confused* Shiro: *grins* Come here, you. *pulls Keith once again* *whispers in his ear* Your hiccups. Keith: *blinks* Oh. *laughs* *then realizes what Shiro did* Still! You bit me! Shiro: *laughs* I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to you then. *leans in for another make out session* Hunk: *shouts from the kitchen* Daddy Shiro! Pidge is biting the table again!! Shiro and Keith: *rolls their eyes and stop midway* Keith: Remind me again why we got kids? Shiro: Shut up. You love them. *shakes his head fondly* Now c’mon before that daughter of yours eats our whole house.
While we’ve been selfishly worried about human rights and the economy, everyone forgot how truly terrible the Trump presidency must be on Trump himself. Luckily, I’ve managed to compile a definitive look into our brave new POTUS’s hour-by-hour struggle. Prepare for the seriously researched, definitive schedule of Donald Jamillah Trump that is in no way designed to antagonize him or his supporters.
6:00 a.m. - 9:00 a.m.: Watch TV, Rage Tweet, And Physically Fall Apart
Considering his documented love of stool-loosening Lay’s Potato Chips, our president no doubt rouses with an aggressive BM. And for the sake of simplicity, let’s just assume that Trump spends the rest of his day in a lightning war with his bowels. #TrumpHasPotatoShits
While campaigning he was famously a Twitter monster (and regular monster, depending on your ethnicity), but President Trump is surprisingly more restrained with an average of five tweets a day (only slightly more than Obama). As the Boston Globe detailed, the prime Twitter window is between 6 a.m. and 10 a.m. – giving us a clear idea of when Trump sleeps and what he does immediately after waking up.
i know size doesnt really need to be taken literally in dark souls but hawkwood is so short??? compared to the rest of the abyss watchers??????????
im just imagining him as the lil brother of the group and if they got a painting of the team he’s like, only the stupid pointy helmet visible because they couldnt get his short ass in the full painting
make him sit on one of the guys’ shoulders its fine
Her key getting stuck in the lock was the last straw for Y/N, and she let out a growl of frustration as she continued to try and turn the key, only getting it further stuck.
Finally giving up, she kicked the door lightly before stepping back until her back hit the opposite wall, sliding down to the ground.
Y/N glared at the door, even as it swung open a minute later. Her boyfriend stood there, looking down at her in confusion, glancing to the keys in the lock, jingling on her keychain.
“That was you I heard…” Joe commented, working the key out of the lock. “Why didn’t you just knock?”
“I did. With my foot.”
“Right.” He nodded, studying her face. “Rough day?”
“Want to come inside?”
“Alright, I’ll leave the door unlocked.” Joe told her, her keys in hand as he stepped back into the flat, shutting the door softly.
She sat out there for a few more minutes, letting her anger subside, even as the stress of the day remained behind.
Pushing herself up off of the floor, she opened the door to her and Joe’s flat, kicking off her shoes once inside. She followed the noise of Joe’s cooking into the kitchen, offering him a small smile as she fell into the bar stool.
“Welcome home, love.” He smiled back, stirring the food in the pan.
“Thank you.” Y/N told him, nodding towards the door, but he just waved a hand.
“Everyone needs some time occasionally. Thirsty?”
Humming to himself, Joe turned around to open the fridge, pulling out her favourite drink along with a couple of other ingredients. Closing the door with his hip, he passed the drink over to her, smiling brightly at her still.
“Hope you’re hungry. We’re trying a dish from Spain tonight.”
“It does smell good,” She admitted, feeling herself relax as the aroma of food, the sound of the gentle music, and Joe’s loving smile floated around her.
“Of course it smells good,” He adjusted the heat before moving to the cutting board, “Chef Sugg is cooking.”
“Dork.” Y/N mumbled, sipping her drink.
She watched in silence as Joe continued to prepare and cook the dish, intrigued to see how it would all come together.
Once it was put into the oven and the timer was set, he moved around the counter, stopping in front of her. He leaned over, kissing her gently on the lips.
“Hi.” Y/N replied, leaning against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, his fingers running along her spine.
“Come on, dinner will be a while.” He said softly, slipping his hand into hers as he tugged her off of the chair and towards the couch. She followed him, sinking into the couch with a sigh, blinking at him as he poked her side.
“Back to me, love.”
“Why?” She asked, but did as told, shifting to sit on the couch so her back was to him.
“It’s hard to give someone a massage when their back is pressed against a cushion,” Joe chuckled, his fingers coming up to her shoulders, pressing into her sore muscles.
“Joe, you don’t have to.” Y/N protested lightly, but her body leaned into the touch, her eyes slipping closed.
“You look like you need it.”
“Gods, yes.” She moaned softly as he worked at a particularly difficult knot. “That feels amazing.”
“We need to talk about how tense you get,” Joe worked on her shoulders for a few more minutes before his hands slipped down and under her shirt, running along her back. She arched at his touch when he found a sore spot, before she fell back against his touch, sighing contently as her body relaxed further.
“You’re one to talk,” Y/N finally replied. “You’re always hunched over a computer.”
“I know,” He chuckled, “I’m trying to get better though.”
He let her fall back against his chest, his hands moving around her waist, his thumb brushing against her bare skin.
“If YouTube ever fails,” She turned her head to look up at him, “You can become a massage therapist.”
“I wouldn’t make any money.”
“Because you’re the only one I want to give a massage to.” Joe replied, kissing her gently. “And I don’t charge you.”
The couple sat there in a comfortable silence for a while longer, starting to doze off as the music continued to play from the speakers softly.
“Isn’t that the timer?”
“Shit!” Joe slipped from behind her and off of the couch, running over to the kitchen to save their dinner, leaving Y/N laughing on the couch.
Lafayette needed a break. After being on his feet for almost half of the day, he finally had a chance to take a breather and retreat to the bathroom. He washed his hands, splashed his face, and tried to wake up. He missed his boys. He missed you.
A newfound energy came about him when he looked at the time on his phone. He was almost done. This was his last assignment then he’d get to be home. He thought about going to Hercules’ studio. He just wanted to be near one of you and since Hercules had the most flexible hours, it wasn’t like Hercules could really get in trouble for having his boyfriend in his office.
Plus, maybe he could look at the pretty dresses and nice suits his boyfriend made.
If not, he was sure he could at least pop in to see John or Alex. Mr. Washington was a dear friend to him and he was sure that the older man would be more excited to see him rather than immediately ask him to leave.
He decided to go to Hercules. Maybe they could get lunch together.
Just another Hollywood lesbian AU. Trixie is a struggling music artist finally discovered by a sleazy Hollywood manager; however, his Russian trophy bride (along with her small-waisted young lover) complicate and confuse Trixie’s rise to the top as a legend, icon, and star.
A/N: Enclosed: a fair bit of smut, a fair bit of angst.