trade shirt

i had a dream last night that be more chill came back but they couldn’t find a creeps sweater so they contacted me for mine n i said fine but you gotta let me see the show so they flew me out to new jersey and i had to do a sketchy trade of the shirt for tickets in a back alley with jake boyd

kenhina hcs!!

been thinkin a lot about these cuties lately, so it’s time for some headcanons!!

- they text CONSTANTLY and skype and snap and call each other lots.  anything to make up for the distance between them.

- kenma’s ‘oh!’ moment, when he realized that he had a crush on hinata, was when he woke up one morning w/ his phone on his pillow & his call log showed that he and hinata were on the phone for over 4 hrs the previous night and he realized that they must have fallen asleep on the phone w/ each other.  his immediate reaction was to text kuroo the word ‘help’ w/ 47 question marks.  kuroo didn’t have to ask for clarification.

- when they walk together they often link arms instead of holding hands so that kenma’s hands are free to play games/dick around on his phone while hinata talks.  hinata is usually v good about steering kenma around people & making sure he doesn’t trip or run into stuff, but sometimes when he gets excited & gestures wildly or jumps around he knocks them both over.

- kenma is ticklish between his shoulder blades & behind his knees & on the bottoms of his feet.  hinata, incredibly, is not ticklish at all & kenma feels  betrayed by this.

- they make blanket forts together!! once they had a skype date where they each made their own blanket forts and then fell asleep on skype together.

- hinata likes to cradle kenma’s face in his hands and kiss him all over his face. he’ll start with his forehead, and then his nose, cheeks, chin, & mouth.  kenma scrunches his face up, but he likes it & thinks it’s rly cute.

- kenma likes to kiss hinata’s hands just. randomly? like if he’s playin a game & there’s a cutscene or if he’s texting & waiting on a reply or whatever, he doesn’t even look over, he just grabs hinata’s hand and lifts it up and kisses the back of his hand and goes back to doin his thing while hinata is lsdkfjljaldkjflsk

- when they visit each other, they always trade shirts and hoodies and stuff so they’ll have those little pieces of each other while they’re apart.

- they put stickers on each other’s stuff.  hinata starts it, but then one time kenma puts a sticker on hinata’s phone and hinata grins so hard his whole face does a scrunchy thing & kenma Ascends™.  hinata puts his stickers (in a haphazard jumble) ABSOLUTELY EVERYWHERE: kenma’s phone, his gaming devices, his bag, his shoes, his notebooks and binders for school, all over his bookcase and his desk, on kenma’s face when he dozes off, you name it. kenma is a little more conservative & deliberate w/ his stickering, but sometimes he puts a single sticker in an odd place before hinata goes back to miyagi.  when hinata finds it he always texts kenma a picture of the sticker & a bunch of exclamation points.

- hinata really likes to play w/ kenma’s hair & it’s v calming for kenma too. he’s not really good at braiding yet, but he’s good w/ pigtails & ponytails and clips & stuff b/c that’s how he does natsu’s hair!

haha whoops this got out of hand!!!  come share ur kenhina headcanons w/ me!! or ur other haikyuu headcanons!! please scream w/ me about haikyuu it has taken over my whole entire life & consciousness!!!

Screw Me

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Words: 1,750

Summary: The reader is cursed with lust; Sam is conflicted

A/N: This is the full version of the latest Sam drabble! You all really seemed to like it, and I really loved writing this. I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think. xoxo

Warnings: Implied smut

Originally posted by frozen-delight

Dean’s eyes trailed up your body as if you were alien. Sam stared with a similar conviction.

“So…” Sam broke the silence, “The witch cursed you with lust?”

You nodded while typing up your hair, practically peeling it off your glistening chest. “Did somebody raise the thermostat?” You asked.

Dean bit his tongue not to laugh, staring at your pupils that seemed to be growing with every second.

“Alright, how about you drink some cold water while Dean and I try to-”

“Please shut up. I can’t stand how appealing your voice is.” You exhaled. Sam cleared his throat, his eyes touched every object in the room except for you.

Meanwhile, Dean looked mildly offended.

“And mine isn’t?” He looked between you and Sam. You continued fanning yourself with your hand, trying to cool off. Your body was burning in every sense of the word.

Stalking up to you, unaccepting of the fact that Sam’s voice sounded more attractive, Dean began to run his hands up your arms and towards your neck. You became weak at the knees, practically melting under his touch. Before you could reach out to feel him under your fingertips, Sam gripped his brother’s shoulder and yanked him back.

You whined in protest, feeling your lips pull downwards.

“Dude.” Sam looked at his brother. Dean opened his eyes wide, acting like he didn’t know what he did wrong. “She’s under a spell.”

Dean shrugged, “For the first time, I’m totally fine with witches.” He threw a wink your way and your heart rate quickened.

Sam rolled his eyes.

_ _ _ _ _

No amount of ice could satiate the heat pooling in your stomach. Regardless of the ridiculous count of glasses of water scattered across your desk, you were burning up a fever. It was imperative that you stayed alone.

But the temptation of just laying your eyes on one of the brothers again was tugging you from the bed. So, you peeled off your short sleeve shirt, trading it in for a bathing suit top and some shorts. Any more clothing, and they’d melt off your body.

Your footsteps echoed off the tiled floors.

“Sam?” You shouted, “Dean?” But received no indication that either brother was home. Pulling on the strands of your ponytail to keep it in place, you continued walking around the bunker.

“This isn’t funny!” You exclaimed, entering the kitchen. Opening the freezer, you took out an ice cube and ran it across your face. “Damsel in distress here!”

You rolled your eyes and decided to rummage through Dean’s room; his laptop should be full of porn.

_ _ _ _ _

“Really, Sam?” Dean stared at his brother.

“It’s the safest place to be, Dean.” Sam’s eyes wandered around the garage. “And don’t you like it here anyways?”

Dean scoffed, “I love it here.”

“Then, what’s the problem?”

“I don’t love living here! We can’t hole up in the garage until we find a cure for her, Sam.” Dean crossed his arms.

“But being near her, sets her off. We’d only be making it worse.” Sam sat on the edge of the Impala’s hood.

“So the one time she actually wants to screw you, you don’t?” A laugh escaped Dean’s lips.

Sam sighed and rubbed his face, “It would be meaningless, Dean. Just a way of- of release for her.” He wanted so much more with you.

“Whatever, man. I’m not staying here.” Dean walked past Sam, and back into the bunker.

Making his way towards the bedrooms, he stopped cold in his tracks. Your bedroom door was cracked open and the sound of moaning poured out from it.

“What the fuck?” Dean whispered to himself, knocking harshly on your door. The sounds were way to high pitched to be coming out from your lips.

“One sec!” You slammed his laptop shut and exhaled. Almost.

Instead of knocking again, he opened your door. “Is that my laptop?”

You nodded and shoved it towards him. “I was just-”

“Watching my porn.” He finished your sentence and snatched his laptop from you. “Don’t girls read it?”

You rolled your eyes, “I kinda needed something more intense right now.” You motioned to your glistening body. “I feel like Phoebe from Charmed. Remember when she was cursed with lust?”

“I remember because you made me and Sam watch every single episode with you, but that’s a TV show. This isn’t. So go take a cold shower and help us research how to fix you.” He held his laptop close to himself, as if you were going to grab it from his hands.

Gathering your hair back up from its newly disheveled state, you crawled out of your bed. Maybe Dean was right, some research could help.

If he hadn’t pushed out his chair, you never would have realized Sam was seated at the table.

“Feeling any better?” He asked once he heard you walk in.

“You mean any less horny? Nope.” You dropped into the chair and Sam lifted his eyes to look at you. He had never seen you in a bikini before, and he would be stupid to say he didn’t think you were beautiful.

“How about I get you some more water?” He began to stand.

“It doesn’t help.” You muttered, pulling the book he was reading towards yourself. You furrowed your brows and read the cover as if you were asking a question, “The Effects of Higher Powers?”

Sam shrugged.

“What the hell is this even about?” You began flipping through random pages. “Shouldn’t you be looking through a spellbook or something?”

“I tried that.” He spun the book around and closed it. “I think you just have to wait it out.”

You sighed and slid lower into your chair. “What about Cas?”

“Huh?” Sam asked, placing the book back on the shelf.

“Did you ask him if he can…fix me?” You stood up and followed Sam who began walking towards the kitchen.

“We can try.” He agreed before opening up the fridge. He busied himself searching for something. After a long minute you shouted, “He’s not in the fridge, Sam!”

“I know.” He glared at you, “I’m just trying to find you something cold to eat.”

“Oh.” You whispered. “I’ll go get Dean, he always answers him.”

Nearing Dean’s doorway, you were positive you heard the same porn you were watching earlier.

“No way!” You bust through his door and he jumped, covering himself in the blanket while you laughed.

“What the hell are you doing?” You asked as if it wasn’t obvious.

“You left it open! What was I supposed to do? Not watch it?” He asked as if it were ridiculous to do anything else.

You crossed your arms. “Maybe instead of jacking off, you could be helping Sam search for a reversal.”

Dean shut his laptop.

“We thought you could call Cas for us.”

“Why me?” He asked.

“He only answers you.” You reasoned. He nodded and you left his room, waiting for him to zip up his pants and follow you to the kitchen.

Back in the kitchen, you hopped up onto the countertop, seating yourself comfortably. Within seconds of Dean even thinking to call the angel, he appeared behind you.

Immediately his eyes were glued to your back, shining with sweat.

“Are you alright?” He placed his hand on your shoulder and you let out a shaky breath. Dean watched with amusement as Cas tilted his head at you.

Sam cleared his throat. “The witch we hunted last night cursed her with lust.”

Castiel nodded and stared at you, in thought. Meanwhile, you stared back, seeing him with new eyes. Suddenly, you wanted to feel his cracked lips on yours and feel his stubble under your fingertips-

“Anything?” Sam interrupted your thoughts, pointing his question at Castiel.

Stepping back from you, Cas spoke, “The solution is simple. This is an old, nearly ancient spell used on men and women in high powers, in which sleeping with the wrong person made entire kingdoms crumble.” He explained.

“So?” Dean raised his brow.

“So, once Y/N takes care of her…need, the spell will be lifted.” Cas looked between you and the two brothers.

“Sounds easy enough.” You hopped off the counter, “So, who’s up for it?” You announced and Dean nearly choked.

Sam’s eyes hit the floor before meeting your gaze again. Castiel, chose to disappear.

“Just in case I heard wrong, can you repeat that?” Dean leaned in with a smile on his face.

“Dude.” Sam elbowed his brother. You bounced your leg impatiently.

“If you guys want to deal with this,” You motioned to your soaked skin, “for the rest of your lives, be my guest, but I don’t. So I’m gonna go find someone who does wanna screw me.” With that, you walked back to your room and changed. A one night stand was exactly what you needed.

“There’s your chance.” Dean pointed loosely to the direction that you walked.

Sam sighed, hanging his head low, “I can’t, Dean. It’s not that simple.”

“Oh,” Dean laughed, “She made it very simple.”

Minutes later, you sauntered out from your bedroom in a little black dress with heels to match.

“Later, boys.” You threw a wink in their direction before making your way through the war room, and to the staircase. With every clack of your heel, Sam’s fist tightened.

Before you could turn the knob and leave, Sam was running towards you.

“Wait.” Sam’s voice carried up the stairs. He swallowed thickly and walked up the steps, keeping his eyes trained on you.

“Change of heart?” You asked, nearing him.

His large hands gripped your shoulders, “I don’t want some douche trying to score with you.”

“What are you saying?” You looked up at him through your lashes, trying to read his face. As he ran his hands down your arms, you began breathing heavily, feeling your blood pump.

“I’m saying that maybe, we shou-”

“Oh, shut up!” You shouted, pulling at his t-shirt.

In seconds he was on you, his hands grasping to get as much contact as possible.

You stood on your tip-toes, reaching up to feel his lips on yours. Without having to ask, Sam lifted you up and you linked your ankles around his hips.

“Finally.” Slipped your lips and you practically heard Sam smile. You tugged on his hair, earning a satisfied groan.

“My room?” You breathed. Sam lifted you from his waist and into his arms.

“Mine.”

A duet sung  by himself

Hi! I hope you like this one, it’s a little shorter than what I usually post. :)

Summary: Harry takes his time for many people, however, not for his girlfriend.

This very, very lovely picture is not mine, sadly.

I bit my lip and squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself not to let the tears gathered in my eyes spill over. He’d promised me.  A hiss left my mouth at the memory of him even rolling his eyes when I’d made him give me his word a second time, as if I were being completely ridiculous for doubting him. But of course I’d been right to do so, even though it was for nothing. Because he wasn’t here. And he hadn’t been here when I would’ve needed him to be either.
The dress I’d put on had long been traded for a shirt and my face washed and cleaned from any make up. After, I’d climbed into bed and nestled down, for the first time loathing how much the bed and pillows smelled of Harry.
I hadn’t asked for much, either. Only to be home by seven pm and to accompany me to a dinner my friend had organized, like any other couple occasionally did.
I kept wondering if he even cared for how much he disappointed me. He most likely didn’t, or else my phone wouldn’t be as empty of messages or calls from him as it was.
My fingers angrily brushed at my cheeks and I gave in to the tears, allowing sobs to wreck through my body. Ugly sniffles and cries filled the room and I would’ve been embarrassed by it, if my pain and anger wouldn’t have taken up all the space for any other emotions.

All those perfect moments with Harry, where he swore his love for me and that he wished for us to never be apart, seemed to mean so little every time he let me wait up for him, with no word of where he was. How could he truly mean it when he said he wanted me always, when I was so easily pushed to the side once someone else offered their time to him.

I was too caught up in letting myself drown in my feelings so I didn’t hear him enter the house or walking up the stairs. A heavy knock on the door made me flinch and bit down on my pillow, trying and failing to quieten my sobs. Oh, please go away.

“Y/N, my love, I am so sorry.”

The mere sound of his lovely, raspy voice had another wave of tears running down my face and I shook my head. One dinner. For the first time in months, I’d asked him to do something for me, and he’d let me down.
I whimpered when the door handle rattled and Harry sighed, realizing that it wouldn’t open to him.

“You locked me out of our room?”

My heart ached at the evident pain in his voice. We’d fought before and often quite loudly, but never had either of us refused to let the other sleep in the bed. No matter how angry or upset we were, the night would be spend by each other’s side, even if the touching was kept to a minimal. This made having arguments with Harry less frightening and gave them a silver lining to look forward to. But this time, I couldn’t bear to have him in bed with me.

“Yes.”

A thumb came from the door and I could imagine him resting his forehead against the wood in exhaustion. His eyes squeezed closed and his hair a mess from pulling at the soft strands in distress. It was, after all, two am and he’d left the house at eight in the morning.

“Y/N,” Harry whined, “Don’t wanna sleep on the couch, baby. Please, don’t make me, c'mon.”

My hands fisted the bedsheets and I pulled them up to my chin.

“Go away, Harry.”

The door handle rattled again, even though he knew that it was for nothing. I wasn’t going to unlock the door no matter how big of a scene he’d start to make. Still, I hoped that he would leave me be, that he’d somehow sense how I couldn’t take an argument right now.

“You’re crying. M'not gonna go anywhere ‘til I got to make it better,” Harry’s soft voice hummed.

My arms ached to be holding my boyfriend’s body and to feel his warmth. I sighed at how much it hurt to have pain inflicted by a person you love and ironically, said person being the only one who could lessen it.

“You can’t make anything better anymore, Harry. You already missed dinner!” I called, the words strained and my voice broken from all the crying.

My vocal cords were sore and I heard Harry’s sigh through the door. A soft knock followed, so soft actually, I’d almost missed it. He knew he was in trouble.

“Y/N,” he spoke, “I’m begging you. You’re hurt and I understand, baby, but we cannot move past this if you don’t let me into this room tonight. It’ll all build up and get worse, you know I’m right.”

Yeah it would build up and get worse, I wasn’t an idiot. But seeing his face while hearing his excuses just wasn’t what could’ve changed anything to the better at the moment. I already was embarrassed and nothing he’d say would make it better. They seemed so meaningless to me now anyway and I couldn’t deal with them, not when his clear green eyes got teary, his brown hair framing his lovely face and his pink lips bitten and swollen. A sight that would always break my heart and make me open my arms to welcome him.
He’d messed up and I wasn’t going to just forget about it, for the sake of saving him from feeling guilty.

Another knock.

“Baby.”

I didn’t reply. Silence settled between us and I already believed he’d left when he spoke up again, or rather: he sang.

“You know the world can see us. In a way that’s different than who we are.”

My teeth pulled at my bottom lip and I rolled my eyes. Leave it to Harry for taking me not seriously. What’s new?

“S'your turn,” Harry encouraged and I shook my head. He continued: “Creating space between us 'til we’re separate hearts. But your faith it gives me strength. Strength to believe… Oh Y/N, We’re breaking free. We’re soaring, flying. My love, there’s not a star in heaven, That we can’t reach…”

My feet landed on the cold tile wooden floor as I pushed myself out of bed. I angrily unlocked the door and pulled it open, meeting Harry with tears in my eyes and surprise in his.

“If we’re trying, yeah we’re breaking free.Can you feel it building, like a wave the ocean just can’t control-”

“Shut up,” I spat.

“Wrong line, babe,” Harry commented with a grin on his lips, but it faded once he noticed the tears on my flushed cheeks.

His expression fell and lips parted. I raised my eyebrows and tilted my head.

“Not so funny anymore now, is it?”

Harry’s Adam-apple moved visibly when he swallowed hard. “Y/N, I’m sorry. Let me expla-”

“No.”

He nodded and held up both hands. “Right. You’re hurt and I-”

“Do you have any idea how much you embarrassed me today?,” I asked, interrupting him once more, “How disappointed I am with you? No, of course you don’t. Because Harry Styles thinks of many people and pleases all of them, but putting his girlfriend first for once? God no.”

My voice hurt and so did my head. Both of my eyes ached with how tired I was. All in all, I had quite obviously, no nerves for his jokes.

“Y/N,” Harry began and stepped closer so he could lean in a bit. His smell took over my senses and made me feel dizzy. “You’ll understand once you let me-”

“Will I? 'Cause I doubt it, as you can’t even comprehend how serious I am with this! You come home at 2 am and start quoting some Disney song, thinking I’d easily sing along and fall into bed with you later! Forget it!”

The anger cursing through my veins kept me from getting weak knees at how soft his pink lips looked as he bit it and how his green eyes sparkled with worry and regret. I could ignore how much my body ached to have him near.
Finally, Harry didn’t say anything anymore, not even when I slammed the door in his face.
I’d forgive him eventually, of course I would. Harry and I loved each other more than anything.
However, maybe sleeping on the couch for the first time in our one year relationship, would make him realize that he couldn’t take me for granted. And I was sure he knew it too, as he didn’t try to reopen the door again that night, even though I’d left it unlocked.

Hope you liked this! I decided that I want to start posting short One shots like this one during the week, maybe without proofreading them. Like that, I can post more and leave the long stories for the weekend. 

Part two: http://harryimaginedstories.tumblr.com/post/152952006393/a-duet-sung-by-himself-part-2

Rest of what I wrote can be found here:

 http://harryimaginedstories.tumblr.com/post/144920695218/masterlist

crazed-fanboy23  asked:

Gimme dat sweet Promnis

Sorry this took a bit! I hope you like it :)

xxx

Prompto’s heart was big, sometimes too big for such a small child, and it hurt often from the things he saw. Having spent much of his time alone, he learned to care for himself very early in life and was quite proficient at it. Before Noctis, he hadn’t had a person he could call a friend of trust with so many details about his life. After he’d been introduced to both Gladiolus Amicitia and Ignis Scientia, his friend list tripled. Beneath all his jokes and his quips, he was a light-hearted individual that considered himself blessed by the Six to find himself in his current situation.

Noctis had all but ordered his friends to accompany him out that night to one of the few clubs in Insomnia that could provide some privacy in the hopes that the prince wouldn’t be recognized. They had all dressed up for the rare occasion of the four friends enjoying time together outside of the Citadel or one of their apartments. Noctis had long since ditched his behemoth jacket where it lay over the back of the dark red couch that sat on. Gladio, of course, had left his shirt open and had traded the leather pants of his Crownsguard uniform for a perfectly faded pair of dark wash jeans and a pair of combat boots laced up his shins. Ignis traded his signature pinstripe shirt for one that a dark green – nearly the same color as his eyes appeared in the flashing and pulsing lights of the club. His jeans were dark and fitted and the perfectly cleans sneakers he wore somehow worked with the ensemble. Prompto had found a forgotten black v-neck shirt in his closet and had paired It with a pair of skinny jeans and his ratty old pair of converse. While casual, the four of them looked almost good enough to eat and they drew the looks of everyone they passed. Luckily, they hadn’t been recognized.

They had claimed a half-circle couch that was hidden along the back wall of the club. An air of privacy was given by the sheer fabrics falling in multicolored waterfalls from the ceiling to form “rooms” where people could request a private show from the dancers hung in cages from the ceilings or one wayward prince could drink in peace with his friends. “S’good. I love whiskey,” Noctis hummed as he swished the liquid around his cup. He had mixed it with some sort of carbonated drink at first but as the night went on he had taken to requesting the stuff without.

Gladio laughed as he sipped on his beer. “His majesty looks like he’s had enough.” He shot a look over to Ignis. “I can get him back to the citadel. You take care of blondie? Gladio finished his beer in one long drink. He snatched Noctis’ nearly empty glass, downed its contents as well, and hauled the dark haired young man up by his waist. He snaked an arm around his Shield’s center for balance but otherwise looked alright.

Ignis pushed his glasses up his nose out of reflex and nodded. “Alright. Let me know the both of you have made it in safely.” His Long Island iced tea was still nearly full and he made no move to get up yet.

“Okay, mom,” Noctis waved a lazy hand in his direction before Gladio pulled him through the crowd and towards the entrance of the club.

Prompto couldn’t help but snicker as he sipped on his own drink. He had forgotten the name of it as soon as the waitress in the very short skirt had recommended it. It was blue and glittery and tasted like summer – and there was a lot of alcohol in it. He’d had two and his head was swimming at just the right pace. He relaxed back into the couch and took a moment to study the strategist in his relaxed state.

The chilled glass was gripped lazily in his long and graceful fingers while his other arm was slung over the back of the couch. His shirt was untucked and slightly wrinkled – both from sitting and dancing amongst the writhing bodies on the floor. His hair had been parted and gelled to the side rather than spiked up as usual. The whole look made him seem both older and younger at the same time. Prompto hummed in appreciation before he had even realized what he had done.

“See something you like, Prompto?” Ignis smirked as he sipped on his tea.

Heat rushed into Prompto’s cheeks before he downed what was left of his own blue summery drink. He stood so quickly that he bumped into the table in front of him and knocked over several of the empty glasses. “I-it’s getting late,” he stammered and made for the part in the sheer curtains that would lead him onto the dance floor.

With a sigh, Ignis finished his glass and followed the blonde out into the cool night. Prompto was several paced ahead of him but the strategist used his long stride to catch up to him easily and slipped his fingers through the blonde’s slightly clammy ones. “There is no need for you to act so nervously,” Ignis reminded him as they walked on. He was surprised that Prompto seemed to steady on his feet despite the amount of alcohol he had ingested that night.

Prompto swallowed and nodded. His light hair fell into his face and he used his free hand to brush it away. “You make me nervous,” he admitted with a sideways sheepish grin before turning his attention back to the sidewalk in front of them.

Ignis smirked and toyed with the skull necklace he so often wore. “Tell me, is that a bad thing?” he tightened his grip around the freckled fingers as he pulled him down a side street that would take them directly to Prompto’s apartment. The sharpshooter tended to be directionally challenged when it was light out. Given the darkness of the moonless night, Ignis knew he had to be at least slightly confused.

A shaky breath escaped Prompto’s lungs as he fished around his pockets for his keys. His fingers were slightly shaky as he looked for the right key. He whined when Iggy snatched the keys from him and opened his door, holding it open for him to enter first. “I guess it depends on the situation? I just…I don’t know how to act around you,” he admitted with a sad smile.

The Chocobo keyring jingled as Ignis put it in its rightful place on the peg by the door. He unbuttoned the dark green shirt he had worn all night and hung it on the coatrack. The black shirt he had worn beneath hugged his sculpted chest and accentuated his biceps perfectly. The squeak Prompto let out of the sight had him smiling. “I merely want you to be yourself. You are who I want,” he said plainly and made for the kitchen.

Groaning, Prompto trailed behind him life a lost puppy. “Yeah, okay. It’s not so simply for me. I’m different from you guys and I just don’t want to…” he trailed off with a troubled look on his face before hopping up onto the counter. Ignis tutted at the action but went about the kitchen as he made a fresh pot of Ebony for the two of them. Knowing where everything was, he had the pot started in record time and shot Prompto a curious look as he straightened his thoughts out. “I just want to be enough,” he mumbled under his breath.

Ignis had opened the fridge to pull out the remnants of the cake he had made a few days before but stilled as the hushed words filtered through his ears. He deposited the cake onto the counter and slammed the refrigerator door with more force than he had intended. Prompto gasped as Ignis placed a hand beside either of his thighs, trapping the smaller blonde against the counter. “You are more than enough, Prompto. I do not want to you think you have something to prove to me or to anyone. I am not concerned with station, if that is what bothers you.” He pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead before going back to serving the cake and finding two empty mugs.

Their relationship, if that’s what it really was, was still very new. Ignis had been the advancer after Prompto had thrown a few flirty comments his way. He had made a comment in similar nature to Gladio and had noticed the way Ignis’ grip on his pin had nearly snapped the metal object as he had attempted to jot down something for Noctis. A few days later, Ignis had appeared on Prompto’s doorstep early in the morning and unannounced bearing gifts of a homemade breakfast and coffee from a shop down the street. They hadn’t even made it through their croissants before Ignis had, true to character, laid his feelings out onto the table and waited for Prompto to make his decision. Their fate had been sealed with a nervous and admittedly sloppy kiss.

Prompto snapped out of his thoughts when a warm mug of the steaming liquid had been placed into his hands. The warmth helped settle his nerves and the slightly bitter contents chased most of what remained of the alcohol from his veins. He hummed his thanks as Ignis settle himself between his legs, the saucer of cake beside them on the counter. Noting that there was only one fork for the two of them, Prompto reached for the utensil only to have his hand swatted away.

Ignis loaded the fork with some of the sweet vanilla cake, decorated with sunflowers and edible gold glitter, and took a bite. Prompto whined and Ignis laughed at his pouting. His blue eyes were wide and his lower lip was jutted out as he looked at him through the fringe of his light eyelashes. Reloading the fork, he smiled. “Open up, darling.” Prompto gasped slightly but did as he was told. He sighed contentedly as the sweet cake lit up his senses in contrast to the Ebony.

The two finished the cake and the Ebony quickly, neither much feeling the alcohol any longer. Ignis put away the dished before returning to his place between Prompto’s knees where he was perched on the counter. Leaning forward, he pressed their foreheads together. “You are more than enough. You’re perfect. You’re mine,” Ignis sighed.

Giggling slightly, Prompto shuttered as the warmth from Ignis’ breath fanned out over his skin. His lips were so close that they nearly touched his as he spoke and Prompto was aching to close the distance. However, the sweet words had the younger man’s heart fluttering in his chest. “You mean it?” he mumbled self-consciously.

“Every word,” Ignis nodded and removed his glasses to place them onto the counter. His green eyes were bright and honest as he stared into the sapphire irises before him. His large hands cupped Prompto’s face and tilted his chin up so that he could see him more clearly. As if he knew the worry in Prompto’s heart, he spoke. “You do not need to fear me loosing me. I will always be here for you, I swear it.”

In answer, Prompto closed the small distance and crashed his lips against the chef’s. The kiss was sweet and hungry and need and sloppy and perfect. It were as if every feeling and worry had been poured into the action and Ignis drank it up as if to reassure him and prove that his words were true. Prompto’s fingers tangled themselves in the tawny hair at the base of Ignis’ neck and tugged slightly as he disheveled the perfectly groomed locks. Ignis retaliated by nipping at Prompto’s lower lip, trapping it beneath his teeth and tugging slightly.

Prompto growled at the action, pushing back gently against Ignis to create some space. “No fair,” he spoke lowly with hooded eyes.

Running his fingers through his now messy hair, Ignis shot him a mischievous wink. “All’s fair in love and war,” the strategist spoke evenly.

4

Lea Delaria- The OITNB Fanart binge continueth. I was going to concentrate solely on characters then I heard Lea’s music on Apple Music… plan changed very quickly!! I wanted to try and convey loose textured strokes to give it that Jazzy kinda vibe. I did trade in the shirt button for a little discreet orange slice just to keep the theme flowing. Ooh, and smoke musical notes. I’ve done a lot of photo perfect portraits of late so I wanted to just chillax before my eyes fell out. This was painted solely in #autodesksketchbook

If you haven’t already heard her music (yes I know I’m late to the party)(In fairness though, I am a metal head and spend a lot of my time playing guitar loudly and obnoxiously.) (Though the closer I edge my way to 40, I find my musical preferences have some what softened.)

Anyway, Back to Lea, warm earthy tones and just general brilliance. My metaliscious heart melted and I actually welled up listening to ‘Modern Love.’

This portrait took about 20 hours, during this time I listened to ‘Double Standards.’ And ‘The Leopard Lounge Presents.’ On repeat. Bra and Vo!! 🤗

I’ve included some process shots for fun. Art prints available at: www.etsy.com/uk/shop/crisisenvyart

Shirts the Batgirls (and Kate) Definitely Own

Barbara: rotates between science puns and various activist shirts, her favorite shirt though is a fanshirt for the Birds of Prey, but instead of Batgirl it has her Oracle logo

Stephanie: “it’s not you, it’s your eyebrows”, and memes. So many memes.

Cass: owns one of those “your daughter calls me daddy too” shirts. It was a gift from Stephanie.

Harper: her entire wardrobe is flannel and shirts about being gay. She isn’t interested in being mistaken for a heterosexual. Her favourite shirt is “all the cool girls are lesbians”

Kate:  in true Vodka Aunt™ fashion, all her shirts are really nice, expensive designer shirts, but every once in a while she’ll show up in a GCPD shirt she stole from Renee

i bet one time Tim impulse purchased a bunch of vintage Superboy merch off of ebay at like 4am cause he couldn’t sleep and “accidentally” came across it on the internet but when it showed up he had no idea what to do with the 3 t-shirts, 2 pairs of swim trunks, 4 posters, and 1 bobble-head that he now owned so i just shoved them into the back of one of the many closets in Wayne Manor and forgot they were there until one laundry day when he couldn’t find anything to wear and just came across them so he just spends the day walking around in a Superboy™ shirt and Superboy™ swimsuit. Except Kon shows up that day without warning, takes one look at Tim, and just leaves because “what the fuck where did he even FIND those??????” and it takes both of them a good two weeks to live down the embarrassment