#also has anyone else been getting a lot of mirror matches?

[saltynsassy31]

Team family may have lost

BUT I FUCKING

WON

We were loosing, each team had gotten the signal, they were base camping and my friend had given up already and I did too

BUT IN A TWIST OF EVENTS WE WON AND I GOT A FISTBUMP WITH MY BUDDY!

HECK.FUCKING.YES!

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Werewolf Headcanons

I've been stalked by the guilty feeling that my Romanian Werewolf boy got a lot of backstory but not much romance or interaction. So there you have it: some headcanons featuring the ancient Beast, a post-kidnapping sequel.

Content: female reader, obsessive behavior, monster romance, mild NSFW at the end, ridiculously older yandere

You followed the gargantuan stranger back into the city, leaving the bloodbath behind as if it was just a distant dream. Admittedly, you’d expected to be dragged into some mountainous cave or an abandoned mansion, not the cozy - albeit a little dusty - apartment on a main, historical street. On second thought, he did function as a human outside of his monstrous escapades, so it made sense. “Is this your place?”, you sheepishly asked while he wiped the thick layers of blood off him. “One of them, yes”, he answered curtly. “It’s central”, you remarked, trying to make conversation. “Well, I didn’t know about it back then. It’s been a few decades.”

Your ears perked up at the words. Gazing at his features, he didn’t seem necessarily aged to you. The deep creases contouring his face felt more like a sign that he’s lived sorrows beyond most people’s comprehension. “How old are you?” You finally asked as curiosity replaced your initial fear. He abruptly stopped his movements and leaned back, brows furrowed in deep contemplation. “I’m not so sure anymore. I was born in the 80s”, he concluded. “That’s not too far back, is it?” You inquired, this time more relaxed. “80 BC, I meant. You do the math.”

He freshened himself up as you counted the millennia on your fingers, frowning in confusion. He chuckled at your intense focus, then quickly looked up into the mirror. When was the last time he smiled like this? The reflection was a foreign sight to him. “We’ll get you everything you need tomorrow”, he continued, still in a daze. What a strange idea, having someone to speak to after an eternity. And suddenly, it occurred to him just how rusted his communication had gotten: “I’m so sorry, I haven’t asked for your name once”, he said, embarrassed. “It’s (Y/N). And you are...?" Might as well introduce yourself to your benevolent captor.

The dreaded question. How did they call him back in the day? He hasn't had anyone spell it out for him, nor did he feel the need at any point to say it himself. Why would he? He hadn't anticipated meeting you. With pursed lips, he searched his mind. Eventually, from the depths or memories, from days of yore, it made its way back: "Daos."

Given your first gory encounter (where he quite literally murdered everyone else), you were surprised to find out he's otherwise a calm and polite individual. Well, he's had centuries to mature, you suppose. You've also noticed he has that rather old-fashioned chivalry to him. He's very attentive despite his stoic demeanor, and often follows with acts of service.

"You're insulting me. I can carry this myself with ease", you'll argue. "I never doubted you can. Nonetheless, it is my wish to do it for you."

As the days pass, your reluctance seems to vanish as well. In fact, you've become particularly cheeky, encouraged by his warm, unperturbed behavior. Maybe you haven't gotten the worst deal out there, after all.

"You know, you talk like an old man", you've teased him once. He was visibly taken aback by your statement, and you could discern a faint blush on his face. "Do I? My apologies, I haven't spoken to anyone in a long time. I'm not familiar with modern speech. Have I embarrassed you somehow?"

He spends his free time reading, though he will frequently take you on walks. It's an interesting affair to say the least. You can feel the curious eyes of the passersby and hear their not-so-discreet whispered gossip. You can't truly blame them: Daos is enormous even as a human. He towers above everyone else with his imposing appearance. To match, his voice is deep and coarse as a result of not using it much until recently.

The ancient werewolf is a living history book. If asked, he will narrate to you important events or details you might be curious about regarding his culture. Once, when he'd been in a good mood, he even shared fragments of his life before turning into a creature. He'd been a high-ranked Dacian warrior, spending his days training or fighting. He still remembers the flag he carried with bitter fondness, yet another irony to his fate: a wolf-headed serpent. It was meant to showcase their way of life; barbarians with no fear of death. They'd greeted the Roman Empire with nothing but a sword and a shield, no shred of doubt.

He might've been betrayed by his people, but the pride remains. The pride of a soldier who's never known defeat. You learned quickly that his beastly form doesn't count as a significant change by any means, save for appearances. The man has brute strength even as a human. You'd once strayed from his view, and a stranger approached with a daring whistle, gawking you up and down. Before you could react, Daos clawed him by the throat. You heard the twist of the skin and the creak of the bones giving in to the immense pressure of his large hand.

"It's the second time I have exposed you to such unpleasant sights", he said, discarding the body as if it was any other garbage. "Forgive me, but I will not have you disrespected like this."

He is very much aware he's taken you away from the world out of his own selfish desire. The fact that you accepted it is more than he could ever ask for. That's what he keeps telling himself, even as his eyes wander to your lips whenever you speak. Or as his hand lingers a moment too long against the curve of your back. Or as he hungrily takes in your scent whenever you're nearby.

He might be unhealthily possessive of you, but Daos will never do anything against your will. No matter how obvious his urges are. In fact, no amount of flirting or teasing will shake his resolve. You will have to be very direct with your approval.

Once the reality settles in, he'll become extremely affectionate, bordering on obsessive. To think he could have you in every way possible. Oh, he's waited thousands of years for you. All the suffering, the loneliness, the anger, they're stripped of any meaning now that he has you.

The city strolls at an awkward distance have since become a habitual excuse to hold your hand and show you off to the mortals. The quiet evenings of passing time with a book now include your merely noticeable weight cuddled into his lap. You didn't expect him to be this adoring. Being touch-starved for millennia counts as one reason, naturally, but there's more to it, so much more. And it all leads back to you.

He is a little taken aback when you ask him to do the deed in his werewolf form. "Don't be foolish. I can't overcome my instincts as well when I'm a creature. I could harm you", he'll lecture you. "Besides, you can barely take it as it currently is", he'll add, smirking at your baffled expression. It seems he's picked up on your cheekiness.

After a lot of pleading and waiting for the right moment - when he's ravaging you in a daze - he finally agrees. True to his word, his tune instantly changes. The tender hold turns into a desperate grasp sinking into your skin, and the thrusts become irregular, almost frantic. His drool cools your burning cheeks as you hold onto the coarse fur, feverish and overwhelmed.

His golden eyes rest on the small human squirming underneath him, and suddenly, he can't help but notice: you have the perfect birthing hips.

[bigification]

Careful What You Wish For - M2

The wind felt great on Nate's arms as he sped down the road on his motorcycle. It made him feel badass, swerving through traffic and pissing off other drivers.

He finally slowed down as he pulled into the parking lot in front of his gym. A man needs his workout, otherwise there wouldn't be much to show off while riding his bike. He parked and took his helmet off, ready for his daily workout.

Nate gave a charming smile to the man behind the front counter as he waltzed into the gym. He had a routine, always starting with the same machine. He saw it was free and took his shot to get on it. But just as he was about to get there, another man walked through him like he wasn't even there and took the machine. The man was tall with broad shoulders and biceps the size of melons. Nate's first instinct was to stand up for himself, but as his head turned up to look the other guy in the face, he backed down. The man had a buzz cut and a beard, and looked scary as hell. This was not worth it.

He swallowed his pride and decided to go back to the locker room and wait. It wasn't his proudest moment. He went back to his bag and sat down, but something was different. Someone has been in his bag. Nate opened it to see if anything had been taken, but it was the opposite. Someone had left a weird looking lamp in his bag. He pulled out the lamp to check it out but as soon as he touched it, a purple mist started to pour out of it. He looked around the locker room to see if anyone else was seeing it, but there was no one in the room. The mist swirled into a human-like figure that floated above him.

"I may grant you one wish." It whispered.

Nate just sat there in awe for a moment, unable to react. Then an idea popped into his head.

"I wish I was bigger." He said confidently. No more assholes will fuck with him now.

The mist started to circle him. It felt like a massage as the mist worked its magic on his body. His shoulders started to broaden and his traps grew thick. His biceps exploded with muscle, making him look like a body builder. His pecs thickened until they stretched his shirt to its maximum. He felt his perspective rise as his body grew taller and taller, leaving him at an intimidating 6"5. His hands and feet also grew significantly to match his new height.

The mist then receded back into the lamp. Nate sat in shock for a moment, thinking what happened was some sort of dream. But then he looked down and saw his massive biceps and juicy pecs. He got up and stumbled forward, taking a moment to adjust to his new height.

"Ha... Holy shit!" He said with a chuckle, "I'm huge."

He walked over to the closest mirror and started to flex, nearly ripping through the sleeves of his shirt. He ran back to his bag and took off his shirt. He confidently strutted back out to the gym, making sure to duck under the doorway. He made his way back to the machine he got kicked off of before, and it was empty again. He sat down in the machine, struggling to fit his large body comfortably. He saw the intimidating man across the room and flexed at him.

The man just responded with a confused look, as he could have sworn Nate was half that size just minutes earlier.

Nate set the weights much higher than usual and started his workout. About halfway through the set, he noticed a tingling feeling around his crotch. The same feeling his had felt in his upper body before. He looked down and saw that the purple mist was now circling around his crotch. The transformation wasn't over, there are more ways of being big after all.

Nate's legs buckled slightly as his dick started to grow. 6, 7, 8 inches long, a visible bulge began to form in his gym shorts. He made weird faces trying to hide the pleasure he was feeling. 9, 10, 11 inches, his dick started to slip down the side of his leg. He blushed as he tried to hide the obvious bulge running down the leg of his shorts. This was plenty big, he thought. 12, 13, 14 inches, it wasn't slowing down. It felt so good, but Nate started to panic as his dick was getting close to slipping under his shorts. It didn't help that he was starting to get hard. 15, 16 inches long and nearly as thick as a pop can, it finally stopped growing. He squeezed his legs together to hide the sable that was hiding in his shorts. This was not what he meant when he said 'big'.

He was distraught, but he continued his workout instead. After his set, he sat there for a moment, thinking about what he was going to do. He knew his dick would be impossible to hide when he got up. He thought that maybe he should just go home and buy looser clothes before he embarrassed himself. Though before he could build up the courage to get up, the purple mist returned. It swirled around his midsection and tickled his stomach. He naively thought that this might give him a six pack, but it was quite the opposite. Nate watched in horror as his stomach jiggled as far poured into it.

"What? No!" He cried out as he grabbed his chubby belly.

He got up and ran back to the locker room, hoping no one would see him like this. He ran past the mirror and saw as his beer belly bounced with every step. Even his pecs started to look a little softer. And the sharp V shape on hips was slowly getting replaced by soft love handles.

Nate threw on his shirt hoping it would fit, but it wouldn't get past his belly button. And he had to tuck his dick up into his waist band to stop it from hanging out of his shorts.

He held his bag to his stomach hoping it would hide his exposed belly and the large bulge in his shorts. Then walked as fast as he could out of the gym, hitting his head on every doorway. He made it out of the gym and to his motorcycle with only a few passing glances from other gym goers. He got on his motorcycle and had to sit back to leave room for his growing belly and his massive legs.

He hated how good the wind felt on his exposed belly. And he hated how much his body would jiggle every time he hit a bump.

Nate finally made it home and rushed inside. Finally he was safe from the prying eyes of others. Though he wasn't safe from his main issue, the mist still surrounded his midsection. He managed to find one of his dad's shirts that barely fit him. He couldn't believe he was the same size as his dad of all people. Granted he was now significantly taller than his dad, but there was no denying his belly was getting big enough to rival his father's.

He stood in front of the mirror for what felt like forever, analyzing his body. The undeniable gut that hung in front of him, and the soft moobs that sat on top of it. The double chin that was hiding under his beard. The pudgy fat that covered his thick arms. Even his hands and feet looked swollen. And that's not even considering the problem that is his cock. He pulled it out and saw as it hung nearly down to his knees, it would have gone past his knees if it weren't for the fact that his legs had increased significantly in length.

As he was sulking about his body, he remembered the lamp. It was what caused all these problems for him, maybe it could reverse them. He walked back to his bag and pulled it out.

"I wish to go back to the way I was before." He said into the lamp as he rubbed it.

The purple mist once again poured out of the lamp. This time it engulfed his entire body. He smiled, thinking it would cause all of his problems to go away.

His comfort quickly turned to regret as he felt his clothes begin to tighten around his body. If his gut wasn't bigger than his father's before, it sure was now. Surges of fat poured into Nate's gut, each one adding tens of pounds of fat into his belly. His father's shirt started to ride up above his gut as it began to hang over his waistline. He would never be able to see anything past his belly anymore. His body also began to stretch again, making his shirt ride up even more. The fat also thickened his sides, making his love handles stretch to his back and spill over his waistline. His pecs were on the edge of being considered moobs, but now it was undeniable. His pecs swelled until they started to sag over his gut and into his armpits.

"Please ...ugh.. stop." Nate begged. Barely able to get words out due to the sheer amount of pleasure his body is feeling.

Whatever muscle definition that was on his back quickly got replaced with soft rolls of fat. And you would never guess there was any muscle under the thick layer of fat that covered his arms. His ass was still perky with all of the muscle that laid underneath his fat, but that didn't last. His ass widened as it began to sag under its immense weight. It quickly filled out all the space in his pants and popped the button off of them. A large fat pad quickly engulfed part of his dick, making it appear a couple inches shorter than it was. Though his dick responded by growing a few more inches. 17, 18, 19, 20 inches long spilling past his knees.

His thighs started to balloon, making him have to spread his legs to even walk. And his legs also became longer, topping him out at a monstrous 7 feet tall.

Finally he felt his face begin to change. His chin became three soft chins that connected to his thick neck. Though they quickly got covered in a thick bushy beard. His face widened as his cheeks became round and chubby.

With that, the most finally dissipated. Leaving Nate as the big guy he always wanted to be. Although he is not very appreciative of this.

"What the fuck!" He yelled.

He looked down and all he could see were his fat man tits and his monstrous belly. Though based on how heavy he feels, the rest of him is probably not much smaller. He desperately tried to buckle up his pants, but couldn't. They snapped open every time, sending a shockwave through his blubber.

He gave up and started to waddle back to his bedroom. He stumbled at first getting used to the way his body weighs him down. His gut swung back and forth with each step. He sucked below his doorway and squeezed his fat ass through. Looks like he's gonna have to get his doorways adjusted.

He grabbed a large pair of jeans with some suspenders his father had left at his place. He had to pull hard to get the jeans on and they're not long enough, but they fit better than anything else he has. And he found a black shirt he was going to gift his dad for his birthday. It was bigger than the rest of his father's clothes because he was scared his father would outgrow them too quickly. Lucky for him that made them fit him better, though his gut still hung out the bottom of them.

"You know what, fuck this!" Nate yelled as he angrily waddled back to the lamp. "No more!" He cried out as he threw the lamp on the floor, making it shatter on impact.

The purple mist spread across the room. Nate tried to back away, but was not nearly fast enough. The mist entered through his ears and clouded his brain. His insecurities soon disappeared as his ego inflated. His worries about his hulking body turned to pride, he loved being the biggest man in the room and commanding attention from everyone.

Nate fought the feeling and managed to stumble away from the mist. He coughed as he squeezed into his bathroom and shut the door.

"Good thing I got away." Nate said in a shockingly deep voice. "What the hell?"

He walked in front of the mirror and jumped when he didn't recognize himself. He had gotten so old. His hair turned grey as his hairline receded. His big bushy beard turned white and the body turned salt and pepper. His skin wrinkled and formed sun damage from all the years in the sun.

"Wow I'm looking good, hehe." Nate gave out a hearty laugh, making his body jiggle. "But as much as I love showing off this tank, I should probably get me some clothes that fit. I outgrew my pops a long time ago, so his clothes just won't do." He said as he ordered 6XL clothes online.

[slytherinshua]

BOY OF MY DREAMS

summary. things gyuvin does in a relationship. genre. fluff. headcanons. warnings. i feel like this is repetitive idk... i think i just yapped and its just a lot of word vomit... but maybe its actually good IDK SAVE ME. also not proofread thoroughly. pairing. gyuvin x fem!reader. wc. 814. request. requested by 🥟 anon. a/n. this would've been husband headcanons or like husband material things like the matthew fic but gyuvin is only 19 like... marriage feels too much for him so i just kept the same feel without giving it that label so hopefully that makes sense.

PRINCESS TREATMENT

He treats you like you’re the world’s most precious jewel. Compliments flow out of his mouth effortlessly. It’s like he doesn’t even need to think about it. His brain could supply him with hundreds of words to tell you how gorgeous you are to him. He isn’t quite sure how he managed to pull such a goddess, but he knows for sure that he’s not going to lose you now that he has you. Whenever you get dressed up for a date or party, he just stares at you through the mirror, completely awestruck. He knows he’s handsome as well. He knows he matches up to you, but admiring you and how perfect you look makes him feel so grateful to have you in his life. Whenever he’s admiring you, whether it’s when you’ve done your best to look your prettiest, or when you’re in your pyjamas with messy hair and bags under your eyes, Gyuvin is reminded of all the things that make you so lovable and beautiful. It’s in these moments that he gets the most sentimental and romantic. 

CHEERS YOU UP

He always makes you smile. He’s one of the only people who can cheer you up no matter what. Especially when you’ve had an extremely hard day or week. If you’re upset and angry at him, he still knows how to make you smile. Gyuvin knows when cracking a joke or showing you a meme will make you feel better— sometimes it’s exactly what is needed to lift your mood up just enough that his kisses and words can do the rest. You put up a wall sometimes when you get mad, determined to not let Gyuvin get past that wall. But he knows you inside and out, and he knows what the weak points are. His kisses, his touch, his promises. You are just as in love with him as he is with you, and he’s fully confident that you can get past any disagreements or hard times when you work together. Even before you’ve talked about marriage, in Gyuvin’s mind, you are already a team.

GIFTS

Gyuvin knows you better than anyone, and he loves buying you things that he knows fits your taste perfectly. Whether it’s clothes, jewelry, plushies, mugs, or any random trinket that he sees at the store and just has you written all over, he will buy it and bring it home to you. Seeing your reaction— your smile and bright eyes— it’s something he’ll never get tired of. It makes his chest feel warm and fuzzy. Seeing you happy makes him happy. 

PROTECTS YOU

He has some inner conflict in his brain. Because, on one hand, he’s so proud of you and thinks you’re so perfect that the whole world should know. He wishes everyone could see you as he sees you. But he knows that the world is cruel and the people have been cruel to you in the past. He wants to protect you, to shield you from everyone else because he knows that no one else would treat you as well as he would. Whenever you’re out together, he keeps his guard up. He’s always observing you to see if you ever get uncomfortable, as well as surveying the people around him. Gyuvin wouldn’t label it as jealousy. He’s so confident and secure in his relationship with you, he has absolutely no worries. But he does care about your comfort, which is why he can be harsher to strangers who try to start a conversation with you.

FEELS SAFE WITH YOU

You’re his safe person. Possibly the only person in the world he doesn’t have to conceal anything from. After a long day, all he wants to do is come home to you and curl up in your arms. That’s where his home is, not a place, but just you. Being close to you, feeling your soft skin and breathing the scent of your shampoo. It instantly calms him down and helps him reset. He has doubts and worries about the future like anyone does, but he knows that if he’s with you, he can overcome anything. 

PLANS FOR THE FUTURE

He’s very sentimental and likes to talk about the future a lot. He doesn’t like uncertainty and wants to always know that you’re on the same page as him. He makes promises and stays loyal to them no matter what. It’s one of the traits that makes Gyuvin the most romantic. He really likes the idea of being together forever and being committed to one person your entire life. Breaking up is not something that would ever cross Gyuvin’s mind; even if he’s mad at you, or if you’ve been arguing for hours. In the end, he knows that you are more precious to him than anything and that he would do everything in his power to keep you by his side. He promises this to you with many rings over the years.

↳ zerobaseone taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @okshu,, @chewryy,, @haecien,, @sobun1est,,

@emmylksblog,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @chenleszone,, @sxmmerberries,,

@talking-saxy,, @cupidslovearrows,, @dimplewonie

[badasmuse]

“Drunk and Possessive”

Bada Lee x Reader

Warnings: 18+(MDNI), language, drunk!bada, possessive!bada, lowercase intended, violence, suggestive if you squint, name calling (from outsiders), no relationship (yet)

Summary: bada takes you to a party and man she’s never been more angry.

A request so no song

bada has had a crush on you for so long. she’s your best friend and has been since you met on the playground after some little asshole was bullying you so she kicked sand in her face. even tho there’s six years between you two, you don’t let it bother you. you’re still besties for the resties.

but despite being able to read her like a book, you’re completely oblivious to her so disgustingly obvious crush. she’d do anything for you. literally anything. she proved that when one time you were walking in the park and thought it would be funny to go, “i bet you won’t grab that squirrel.” big mistake on your end cause the mf went and grabbed the squirrel and it bit her.

“you’re a fucking idiot why would you grab the squirrel?” you said driving her to the hospital.

“you told me to.” she said pouting, holding her bleeding hand close to her chest.

you’ve also had a crush on bada for awhile but you hide it from everyone. you didn’t think you were her type. you weren’t a dancer, you don’t have any real talent, you’re an art major but you don’t even think you can draw that well. (even tho you’re absolutely amazing to anyone else. especially bada.)

speaking of bada and art, you just left ceramics class, your last class of the day, and guess who’s outside with your favorite biggby drink and a soft pretzel.

“hey.” bada says softly as you approach her.

“you don’t understand how bad i needed this.” you say throwing your bag in the backseat and hugging bada tight, planting a light kiss on her cheek before taking the coffee and pretzel.

bada blushes and opens the door for you, grabbing your arm to help you in. “i don’t understand how you wear those heels.” she mumbles before closing the door and getting in the driver’s seat.

“i wear them to match your height. you’re too tall.”

she chuckles and starts driving. “you wanna come to a party with me tonight?”

“what i tell you about this last minute shit bada?” you say rolling your eyes.

“i know i know a week in advance. but like.. you’re not doing anything. might as well come.” she says pinching your cheek.

“i guess so.” you groan. “fine i’ll go. what time? what should i wear?”

“whatever you want.” bada pulls into the lot of your shared apartment and obviously goes around to open the door for you grabbing your hand to help you out.

“bada you’re such a gentleman.” you giggle going to grab your bag but she beats you to it.

“come on, angel.” she says walking behind you with a hand on your back. like she always does.

a few hours later, you’re out the shower and standing in front of the mirror wondering what to wear. you have two options and you don’t want to ask bada cause man- that woman is no help. none at all.

you settle on the short black dress and pair it with ankle boots, obviously heeled. you do a quick smokey eye look to match the dress and finally put it on pouting as you reach for the zipper but it’s just out of reach, barely touching your fingertips.

“bada~” you call out, the pout evident in your voice.

“yes?” she walks in fully dressed looking like a tall glass of water and all of a sudden, you’re thirsty.

but you’d never say that.

“can you zip this for me?” you give her doe eyes knowing she wouldn’t say no in the first place but they add character.

she walks behind you and gently pulls the zipper up and man the electricity that went through you when her long fingers brushed against your back.

“you look good.” bada comments looking at you through the mirror.

“thanks i’m hoping to find someone tonight. hopefully a relationship but a hookup is just as good.”

bada’s jaw clenches and she clears her throat, “let’s go.” she mumbles walking downstairs to get her shoes and keys.

you follow her grabbing your shoes and blushing when bada kneels to put them on for you and zip them up.

like girl how can you not see she in love with you???

———

once you arrive at the party, bada immediately goes to get a drink. you follow and pull her down so she can hear you, “don’t drink too much bada.” you whisper and she just nods.

you get yourself a drink and leave to find someone to dance with. you find yourself in the middle dancing with a group of people.

bada watches, standing next to lusher and tatter with a pout on her face.

“you know,” lusher starts, “if you just told her you love her she wouldn’t be all over them she’d be all over you.”

“if she feels the same way.” tatter added which she immediately regretted cause if looks could kill… yeah.

time passes and bada has had way too many. she can barely stand up straight and her speech is beyond slurred, she’s practically incoherent. not to mention her vision is incredibly blurry.

despite all that, she does see the guy that approaches you and starts dancing with you. you’re having a great time and bada is pissed.

she pushes herself off the wall and stumbles over to you and the guy. “hey.” she slurs separating you two.

“bada what are you doing?” you ask holding onto her as she slings her arm around you.

“she’s my girlfriend. back.. back off.” she says pushing the guy back.

“she’s been dancing with everyone in here.”

“mhm and i’m putting a stop to it. she’s mine. fuck off.”

“go ahead keep her. but in my opinion, if she’s gonna act like a whore i’d just pass her off.” he shrugs.

that sobered bada right up.

she runs a hand down her face, cocks her arm back, and swings. hitting the man full force in the face, knocking him to the ground.

“BADA!” you yell, barely able to hold her anymore. you quickly drag her outside and make her sit down on the curb. “what is your problem?” you ask, inspecting her hand.

“my problem? you. you’re my problem. you’re so fucking… oblivious. i’m in love with you and you’re constantly flirting with other people and sleeping with other people. you’re mine. i don’t want anyone else touching you the way i should be touching you!” bada grabs your hand and drags you towards her car.

“what are you doing?” you whispered.

“showing you that you’re mine.”

part 2 maybe?

[nyasiaaaaa]

In the Bleak Mid-Winter

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Fem reader (Nurse)  Fem reader x Arthur ( platonic )

Summary: This is a story about two people who become constants in each others lives, and eventually fall for each. While one learns to love again, the other learns the cost of loving a man like him. 

Word count: 5k

Warnings: Cursing, angst, fluff ,Tommy Shelby, y/n eats ( If I missed anything or you think something should be added please tell me.) Major character death from season 4 episode like 1/2

A/N: part 1 takes place during season two, part 2/3 season 3 and 4/5/6 season 4. This is a Slow burn there will be smut eventually. 

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4   part 5

********************

It's been a year. 

A lot of things have changed since then; you've changed. 

You're not the same person you were a year ago; you're still a nurse and still work in the hospital, but in London now. 

You know the other nurse in hospital like the last, you eat lunch together but never go out. They always ask, but you always have the same excuse. 

It's not like you're lying. You really don't have anyone to watch her, but if you wanted to, you could find someone, but don't. Honestly, though, you prefer the company of a bottle of whiskey over anyone else. 

You also never have the energy to do anything anymore; you wake up throughout the night, then wake up to go to work, come home tired from a 12-hour shift, and go to sleep to do it all over again. 

You barely eat, you barely sleep. 

When you look in the mirror, you're just a hollow version of yourself, like you don't have control over your body. You're just sitting back as it goes through the motions, as someone else controls you. 

She's not the only reason you can't sleep; if she's not waking you up because of her screams, you're waking yourself up with your own. 

These nightmares are so haunting that most times, after you wake up, you just stay up. 

And that's where you're at now, waking up from a dream like every other night. 

You thrash around in your bed and suddenly wake up coughing as you grab hold of your throat. You get up from your bed, covered in sweat, and walk downstairs to the kitchen, rubbing your chest as you catch your breath. 

You walk around the corner to the kitchen and instantly jump when you see someone sitting at your table in the dark. The old you would've freaked, grabbed your gun and threatened them.

But you now couldn't care less; you just grabbed two glasses and a bottle of whiskey off the drink table. You bring it over and set it down, pouring the whiskey into each cup, filling it halfway, and then sliding one over to your companion. 

You then sit down and take a swing of your drink before reaching for your pack of cigarettes. 

"Want one," you ask, holding a cig out to them.

They take it, and you pull out one more for yourself; you then strike up a match, reaching towards them to light theirs first; once they got closer to the flame, it became clear who was sitting at this table with you. 

You light the cigarette, then pull the match to light your own; you take a drag, hold it in, and then blow it out. You do this action a couple more times, and neither of you says a word as you smoke; you both just sit there in silence. 

You finish up your cig, put it out in the ashtray, then proceed  to light another. Again, you smoke in silence, but this time, as you're almost finished with your cig, you speak up. 

"I thought you would've sent Micheal," You say as you reach to ash your cig in the ashtray.

He finishes up his cig, putting it out before responding to you. "He was busy," he shrugs. 

"'M honestly, I would've preferred Micheal." You put your cig out and then took a sip of your drink.

"Well, looks like you're out of luck 'cause I'm here." 

"Yes, you are; please do tell me why it is that you're here after all this time." 

"We got served a black hand," he spoke with such seriousness, but you were confused. 

"Ok, am I supposed to know what that means or what it has to do with me" 

He took a deep breath and said, "We have to tighten house. We killed one of theirs way back, and now they're coming to get even." 

You pursed your lips and turned your head to the side, slightly shrugging your shoulders. "And what does that have to do with me." 

"They killed John." 

"May he rest in peace? "even though you didn't mean for it to, it had come out more like a question than a statement. 

"But again, what does this have to do with me," you asked

He let out a dry laugh, licking his lips, then got up and got in your face. He took hold of your wrist and bent down to your height. 

"Because the Italian Mafia doesn't care if you don't fuck with me, they are going to kill everyone that has ever spoken to me, anyone who's ever been close to me to hurt me to break me down before killing me."

Even though he tried to seem calm and collected, you couldn't see it in his eyes or face, but you could hear it in his voice. 

He was hurting. 

You ripped your wrist from his grip and stood up, moving closer to him and getting in his face. 

"Well, Tommy, it seems like you have a real problem on your hands; best of luck to you." You smiled at him, then stood up and began to walk away

Suddenly, you were pushed against the wall and turned to face him. 

"Look, I—"his speech was cut short once he heard a cry coming from upstairs; his eyes darted down to you, his head tilted as he looked at you. 

"Tommy, I-"you start but stop once Tommy pushes off you.

You tried to get past him to go up the steps first, but he pulled out a gun on you and pushed you back into the kitchen. He slowly took a step back as you took steps forward.

"Do it, Do it, Tommy. Be a man. Do it," You said as you walked forward; you held your head high as you spoke so there was no room for doubt on Tommy's part. 

He looked at you, puzzled, then shut the door in your face. You immediately rushed to the door, but it was too late. He locked it. You tightened your grip on the door knob as you jiggled it relentlessly, 

"Tommy…. Fuck— Tommy, please" You were starting to panic; you had to get to her first. 

You dashed over to the drawers and started to throw everything out and slam it shut as you moved on to the next one. The key was in one of these drawers; it had to be you had remembered putting it in here you—

You found it in the last drawer; you ran over to the door but slipped on the things you had thrown on the floor and fell on your back, making the key fall out of your hand. You hop on your knees, ignoring the pain in your back that grew with every move you made as you searched the now messy floor for the key; you can already barely see because of the darkness, but the tears that start to build only make it worse. 

Your hand brushed against something sharp, and you turned your head in its direction as you stretched your hand out again, patting it around. Your hand instantly comes in contact with the cold metal key. You grab it, rushing to the door. You try to place the key in the door, but it keeps brushing past the hole. 

You stopped, took a deep breath, and tried again, and despite your shaking hand, you were able to place the key in and unlock the door. As soon as the door opens, you ran up the step to her room. 

It's too late. 

You walk into the room and see Tommy holding your daughter in his hands. 

Without thinking, you say, "She's not yours." 

It's a lie, you know it, and so does he. Anyone could see from a mile away that she was his, and it's not like she looked like him or you even; she was still too young to look like anyone. But she had those eyes, the same eyes her father had. 

You look up at Tommy and know you are in trouble. He had just met her, and already he was in love. He was already hell-bent on taking you with him, but now that he knew of her, there was no way he was letting y'all go. 

You're about to speak up but get cut off by some men behind you.

"We're here, Mr.Shebly. What do you want us to do?" 

You didn't turn around to see if you knew the men; you just kept your eyes forced ahead on Tommy. 

"Pack up the house, everything; we'll go through it later and see what we want." He barely spoke above a whisper and never looked up as he slowly rocked your baby back and forth. 

"Oi sir and your car is ready when you are." 

"Thank you, curly." 

They left, leaving you and Tommy alone. 

You opened your mouth to speak but didn't know what to say, so you stood there like a gaping fish as you struggled to find words. 

"It doesn't matter what you say; tonight, you will leave here with me, and so will the baby. You can put up a fight, but we will drug you if we must." The way he spoke, you knew he meant it; there would not be a fight, you couldn't take on Tommy, let alone all the men downstairs.

 So you just nodded your head, ok. 

Satisfied with your answer, he proceeded to exit the room but then stopped and turned towards you. 

"What's her name," he asks. 

"Ruby" 

"Ruby," He whispers, "Hi. Ruby, grab what you want and meet me in the car," He says, then leaves and goes downstairs. 

You want to cry, tear the room to pieces, throw a fit, and just sit there and cry. But you can't, so you make yourself and your daughter a travel bag, packing only what you need and leaving the rest for the guys to pack up. 

You finish packing and head upstairs; you walk past the men packing up your kitchen and head straight for the car. Once you're outside, you see a man waiting for you by the backseat door; he opens it for you as you approach it. You walk up to him, handing off your luggage, giving him a smile, and thanking him before sliding in next to Tommy, who's still holding your daughter tight to his chest. 

The driver places your stuff in the trunk, runs over to the driver's side, and hops in, wasting no time. He takes off instantly, driving to a destination unknown to you. 

 You glance over at Tommy, who is still in awe at seeing your daughter. You don't even try to take your baby away from Tommy, knowing that he will hold her as long as he can. 

So you sit there staring out the window, saying goodbye to the place you've called home for the past year, and try not to cry.

************************

For a long time, you were confused; you knew this wasn't the way to Tommy's house. It was east, and you had been heading west. You were about to ask where you were going, but then you started to recognize your surroundings, the shops you've walked past hundreds if not thousands of times. You even saw some people you knew past patients. 

You were back in Birmingham. 

Soon after you cross the line into Birmingham, it doesn't take long for you to reach your destination; you pull up next to many small townhomes. 

 Before you  get the chance, your door is opened for you, thanking the driver as you step out and observe your surroundings.  

"Where are we, Tommy," you ask. 

"We're home," he says simply, then starts making his way into one of the homes. 

You follow closely behind him as he steps into the house; you take in your new surroundings as you follow him; there are steps directly in front of you and a living room to your right that leads Into a kitchen. As soon as you step into the living room following Tommy, you're greeted by a maid who cut you off as you are about to ask Tommy another question. 

"Welcome back, Mr. Shebly. I set Charlie down for a nap upstairs a few minutes ago and just put dinner in the oven. Do you need anything else from me before I go" 

"No, Mary, that will be all thank you."

"It's not a problem, Mr.Shelby," she said, then went to leave but suddenly stopped at the door. "Oh, and I've had a bassinet put upstairs per your request." She gave both of you a tight smile, shutting the door as she exits, leaving you and Tommy alone. 

Tommy doesn't say a word as he turns away from you and walks upstairs; you're about to start looking around when a knock comes at the door. You get to the front to open it and is greeted by the driver, who has your bags in hand. You reach out, taking them from his hands and setting them to the side before giving him a smile. 

"Thank you so much; hold on, let me find my purse to pay you," you say as you step away from him in search of your bags.

The driver quickly stops you in your tracks when he calls after you using a name you've never heard associated with you. 

"Oi, that's quite alright, Mrs.Shebly; Tommy pays me good," he said, giving you a smile, then shuts the door before you could even correct him. 

"Ok," you say yourself as you shrug it off; you turn around just in time to see Tommy walking down the step, and you notice that your daughter is no longer in his hand. You assumed he must've put her down upstairs in the crib Mary set up. 

Once he gets down the steps, he immediately makes his way toward the Living room. He sits down in one of the chairs, and you decide to take a seat across from him. 

He pulls out his pack of cigs, offers you one, which you accept, and then takes one for himself. His lights yours first, then his own. You take a couple drags of your cig, then begin asking him a million questions you have swimming around in your head. 

"How long do we have to stay here," you ask as you blow out smoke and then take another drag. 

He shrugs his shoulders as he waves his hand around in no particular manner, "for however long it takes." 

You press your lips tightly and roll your eyes; you take a deep breath and let it out as you speak again, "Are we staying here with you."

"Yeah" 

"Is it safe?" 

"Yeah, you will have two guards stationed outside 24/7." 

"And where will you be?" 

"Out" 

"So Tommy, let me get this straight: I'm supposed to stay here for who knows how long, under constant surveillance from your men, and I'm assuming I'm not allowed to leave." You paused, waiting for an answer, to which he gave you a slight nod back. "Right, so basically, I'm a prisoner; I'm your prisoner. I'm not ok with that, Tommy. I-" 

Arthur suddenly burst through your door, calling out for Tommy. 

"Oi Tommy, I- "Arthur paused once his eyes landed on you; a big smile slowly crept up his face as he started making his way towards you.

"Sista, it's good to see you," Arthur said as he hugged you, picking you up slightly. 

"It's good to see you too...... I'm so sorry about John," you said as you hugged him back, and you were being honest. You didn't miss anything from your old life, but Arthur. After all the years, y'all were around each other. He truly started to feel like the brother you never had. 

Arthur pulled back from you slightly and looked you in the eyes; you gave him a tight smile, then pulled him back closer and hugged him tighter. 

Arthur pulled back again as he asked you a question, "Oi, I heard I had a niece. Where she." 

Before you were able to answer his question, Tommy interrupted you. 

"Are you two finished yet" You heard Tommy ask from behind you, making Arthur drop you. 

"Sorry, Tommy," he chuckled as he stepped further from you. "There's been an incident down at the boat house; we need you down there." 

"Thank you, Arthur; I'll meet you outside," Tommy said, then went into the kitchen to gather his things. 

Arthur gave you a small smile and whispered a quick bye before heading outside. 

You turn to face Tommy, who is putting on his coat; you see his collar sticking up, so you go over to him to help him fix it. You grab onto the jacket and pull him in close to you. 

"When will you be back?" You ask as you pat down his collar.

"When I'm finished" 

"That's not cool, Tommy; we have things we need to talk about." You grab on his collar and tighten. 

He gave you a look that you could only describe as assumed, then pulled you off him, holding your wrist in his hands. 

"And we will when I get back," he said, dropping your wrist and walking away. He suddenly stopped and turned around to face you. "Watch Charlie for me," He said with a tight smile, then reached for the door. 

You are so fed up with his bullshit that you pick up the first thing your hands touched and throw it at him. 

"Fuck you, Tommy" You screamed at him as the glass cup left your hands. 

Your aim is ass, so the cup smashed against the wall next to him, missing him by a couple feet. But still, it stopped him in his tracks; he stood there for a second, then turned around to face you, gave you a smug smile, then said

"You already did love." 

He quickly went to the door, leaving you there standing there stunned. 

You're so mad at him for coming into your life (again), picking you up, and dragging you into his mess (again). He constantly treats you like gum on the bottom of his shoe, and you're tired of it. 

You have this anger building up inside you; you're so mad, so you do the only thing you can think of. 

You scream.

You stand there and scream; you yell out towards the ceiling; you scream till your lungs start to burn. And then you collapse onto the floor. 

How did you end up here again? You thought you finally got away from this life. 

Before you had a chance to wallow in your self-pity, you heard a cry come from upstairs. You get slowly and make your way up the narrow stairs. Once you get upstairs, you notice there are only two rooms upstairs, one the bathroom and the other the bedroom. 

You enter the bedroom and see Charlie still fast asleep on the bed, the only bed, you might add. Your baby cried from her bassinet, and you went over, picking her up and rocked her  back and forth in her arms. She must've heard your scream and got startled. You were really loud; you're shocked that Charlie didn't wake up. 

You were able to get her back to sleep quite quickly; you placed her back in her bassinet and walked out the door back downstairs. 

As you walked down the steps, you started to sniff the air around you; it smelled like something was burning. 

You took off sprinting towards the kitchen once you remembered the dinner Mary said she had placed in the oven. You yanked the oven open and reached in to take the pan out. 

You jump back, saying a million curse words as you immediately pull your thumb in your mouth. You are so out of it that you forgot an oven mitt. You suck on your thumb for a couple of more seconds as you glance around the kitchen till your eyes land on the oven mitt. You grab them off the counter, head back to the oven, and pull the pot, placing it on the top of the stove. 

You open the pot, and to your surprise, it's a chicken roast dinner, and it's not that burnt, only a bit; really, it just looks extra crispy. 

You place the top back on and glance down at the clock next to the stove; it's barely a quarter past three. 

You decide to let the meal cool down, you get your bag from the door, and put it up where you see best upstairs. 

After you finished unpacking what you had on hand, you pre-made a couple of bottles for your daughter and then joined Charlie in the bed for a little nap after scooting him over a bit. 

That boy sleeps wild.

***********************

You felt yourself being shaken back and forth softly as if it was too hard for the person to push you. You open your eyes slowly and squint as they try to adjust to the dark; you look around the room in search of the person who worked you up, and soon, your eyes land on the smaller version of Thomas Shelby. 

The little boy turned his head to the side as she looked at you curiously. 

You sat up on your elbows and took a quick glance over to the clock next to you; it was seven on the dot. You turned back and looked over at Charlie, who was still looking at you.

"Yes, Charlie," you asked. 

"I'm hungry; where, Da," he asked, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. 

"He's out right now; I'm here. Is that ok," you asked; he nodded slowly in response.

"Ok, good, I have some food downstairs for you; we just have to get the baby up and well go, ok." 

"Baby?"

"Yeah, come look." You stood up, grabbed him, placed him on your hip, and showed him the baby below. 

"Who that" 

You thought about your answer before you responded to him. You didn't see the harm in telling him the truth, so you said, "She's your sister; her name is Ruby." 

He turned up to look at you so quick that you thought he gave himself whiplash. 

"My sista," he gasped and then tried to reach down to touch her.

"Yep, but wait, be careful, I'll put you down, and I'll grab her and show you." 

You put him down softly and then pick up your little girl; she begins to stir as you gently pick her up. You turned to see Charlie sitting waiting patiently with his feet swinging off the side of the bed. 

You sat down next to him and turned your body to face him; he glanced down at the baby, up at you, and down at the baby again. 

"Wow!" He said, then jumped down from the bed and took hold of your hand.

"Come on, me and baby hungry," he said, leading you downstairs. 

Once you got downstairs, you had him sit at the small table in the kitchen, and you kept Ruby in your arms as you fixed him a plate and then yourself. You warmed both plates on the stove and grabbed a pre-made bottle from the fridge while you waited. 

You sat down next to Charlie and offered him a proposition: "You want to feed her with me." 

He shook his head up and down so fast and tried to reach out to her. 

You pulled away from him slightly. "Wait, I'll hold her, and you hold the bottle, ok?"

He nodded and waited for you to give him the bottle; you showed him how to hold the bottle at an angle best for the baby and then let him take over. 

He reached over you slightly as he held the bottle to Ruby, and she took it instantly, drinking fast. 

After she was finished, you took her back upstairs to sleep; when you came back down, your food was finished warming, so you took both your plates out and cut up the food for him before handing it to him. 

Together, y'all both sat at the table and ate in silence.

"Are you my new ma" 

The piece of chicken you placed in your mouth instantly went down the wrong pipe, and you started to cough, your eyes began to water as your chest tightened. You reach for your glass of water on the table as you beat against your chest. 

As you drank your water, you glanced over at Charlie, who had started playing with his food. You cleared your throat a couple of times as you rubbed against it and drank more water, then set the cut back down next to your plate. 

You smack your lips against your teeth as you begin to speak. "Umm, w-what makes you uhhh what makes you say that." 

Charlie shrugged his causal shoulders, still glancing down at his food. "You're staying here with me and da; you sleep in the same bed as me and da and your baby’s ma." 

You tilted your head to the side, a puzzled look dancing across your face; you leaned down closer to Charlie and asked him a question, "You're four right." 

"Yep," he said, popping a piece of chicken in his mouth. 

"Um, yeah, no, Charlie, I'm not your "new" ma, and if I was, I wouldn't be your new ma, just another one, ok. Cause you ma Grace will always be your ma." 

He didn't say anything back to you, just nodded back slowly; it was clear that he was full now and probably was sleepy again. You assumed that you both had a long day of travel and these significant changes would take a second to get used to. 

You took both plates away, deciding that you were also finished eating; you quickly cleaned the plates and placed them in the drying rack. After you put the pot of food in the fridge, you pick Charlie up, take him upstairs with you. 

By the time your foot hit the last step, Charlie was somehow fast asleep; you brought him into the bedroom and carefully placed him down in the middle of the bed. You grab the covers, bring them over his body, and tuck him in slightly. 

After you check on your baby and find her still fast asleep. You decide to go back downstairs and sit in the living room to wait for Tommy; he should be home soon; he has been gone for hours now. Whatever he had to work on should be done by now……. Right?

.

.

.

You feel your oxygen supply getting cut off, and you start to struggle to breathe; you try to turn your head but to no avail because whatever's is on top of you is keeping you in place.

You begin to panic as you realize that you are asleep and have to force yourself away to be able to deal with whatever is keeping you from breathing. 

You feel your fingers begin twitching, then your eyes, and finally, after what seems like forever, you're able to open your eyes.

You squint your eyes as you try to help them adjust to the darkness, but it's still pitch black; you soon realize that the reason you can't see isn't because it's dark but because something lays on top of you. 

You lift your hand cautiously as you slowly lift Charlie's body off your head and back into the middle.

You lay there for a second as you try to catch your breath, then slowly, you sit up to check on your daughter, seeing as she has yet to wake you for a bottle tonight. You take a quick peek over into her bassinet. 

She's not there. 

You quickly shoot up in a panic, thinking your eyes are playing jokes on you, but once you get closer to the bassinet, you can confirm that she is not in there. 

You try to take deep to calm yourself down, but it gets caught in your throat as you slowly begin to spiral, and your mind starts to race with a million questions.

Where is she?

How could I not hear someone take her? 

When did I get up here? 

.

.

.

Wait, you pause for a second and try to think back to tonight. You didn't get in the bed. You remember waiting on the couch for Tommy; you must've fallen asleep, but how did you get up here?

Your head quickly pans over your shoulder, and in the bed next to Charlie, you see Tommy and your daughter lying on his chest and a half-empty bottle on the nightstand next to him. 

Relief floods your body as you slowly sit back down on the bed; you look back over at Tommy. The sight before you is truly something; if Tommy wasn't the devil reincarnated, it might make your heart swell. But instead, you're sitting there contemplating whether or not to get her off him and place her back in her bed. 

She seems fine, and there isn't much room for her or Tommy to roll around plus the risk of having to deal with her waking up in a sour mood if you move her isn't something you feel like doing right now. 

You lay back in bed next to Charlie, deciding to leave them be. 

As you fall back to sleep, instead of counting sheep, you tell yourself repeatedly.

That this is just for now and that

Thomas Shelby is in your past and not your future. 

***********************

Tag list:

@thhriller@macchiadinchiostro @naevisct @johnmurphys-sass @fannibalsrule @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @sis7890

I apologize if y/n having a kid is a huge turn-off for some people, mainly because there isn't any warning, and we're so deep into the story. I wanted it to be a surprise, but again, I'm sorry. Also, this isn't the last part. There are two more, and then that's it; I broke it down because I felt like having everything In one or two parts would've made it seem like Y/n and Tommy's end result would become too quick and not in a organic way. Also, I've been told this story gives dead doves don't cry or something like that; it's not, I promise, a happy end or as happy as person can be with Thomas Shelby. Anyways, thanks for reading. The story should be finished and fully uploaded all parts by Friday, Feb 9th.

P.S: I can't tell if this chapter is shitty or not I was just trying to get it out for yall so I'm sorry if it is.

[frownyalfred]

You know these scenes where Bruce just switches between his personas like a tennis match? Like the thing Adam West's Bruce Wayne did? I love them SO much! And now I'm here imagining all kinds of scenarios.

Like. He's with the JLA and he's Bruce Freaking Wayne, so he has all kinds of contacts and reach and stuff. And bc of shenanigans he has to call someone in a high position of power and convince them to do something. Now here's the problem: The guy doesn't care for any heroes and blackmail wouldn't work for whatever reason, but he owes a huge favor to Wayne but also thinks Brucie Wayne is legit a huge dumbass and can't get anything done. That's where the Justice League comes in. The League is the serious party that makes the terms and Brucie cashes that enormous favor in, EXCEPT, they want that powerful guy to do something in Gotham, which means he wants to talk with Batman, and also have Wayne there as a way to get him to back out and forget about the favor. He thinks that would work because he expects the Bat to do something to piss off Bruce or for Bruce to think this is too much responsibility for him to have. Which basically just boils down to Bruce having to argue with himself, which he should be a master at at this point, and change his voice and word choice every two sentences.

And the League jumps in a few times to help settle matters and soothe bruised egos (between B and B and the guy. Batman just subtly insults the man the longer this goes on) while being really weirded out by a Batman with Brucie Wayne's voice. Like, they'll play along but how did they get here???

Or this but with the Batkids. Just imagine a four-way-version of this, except Bruce plays the roles Father of Five(or more, depending on how you look at it) and Batman and then Damian comes in and speaks as himself plus someone he can't stand (he has perfect voice mimicry as far as I know), so he'd be forced to see things out of the other person's perspective while keeping his own stance and not loosing his temper when he starts insulting himself bc they would be arguing at this point. And the rest are watching while eating popcorn, silently shaking their heads, bc what insanity is this?

OR Bruce gets arrested in his early Batman years and his plan involves making it look like he's been interrogated by Batman. He deactivates the cameras and blocks the door and covers the two-way mirror, so only his voice can get through the door where the cops are listening in and halfheartedly trying to break the door down. They have to help the billionaire, so he doesn't make them problems like sue them, but they also don't care or hate him bc he gets in their way a lot with his "no-corruption" policy. And no one asks themselves how Batman could have possibly entered or escaped the room without anyone noticing, bc "that guy's a freaking vampire or some shit, obviously he can do that, Steve".

Anyway, just wanted to share my ideas. Feel free to ignore this, or use this as inspiration if you want. Or anyone else.

I love this anon! The image of Bruce switching between voices must be obscenely funny and yet disconcerting.

[comicsandconstellations]

Have really been in the mood to keep drawing my designs for the “they survived” Domino Squad AU (designs here )

So have my full armour breakdowns for them. I thought I should properly sit down and get those sorted. I think it’s phase two armour? But I’m not great with those differences. Also, first sketches of the squad in colour.

Also, thought I’d give Cutup a hint of a beard since his cannon design had one. I haven’t really been drawing him with one because in my version he’s chilled out a lot in recovery from almost being eaten alive, and he’s grown his hair out. And, clones with long hair and beards are just arguably the hottest clones and I don’t think Fives would ever let him be the hot one of the group.

A few notes on armour designs I didn’t elaborate much on in the notes (and some character traits linked to it) :

Hevy’s armour is pretty basic for an ARC, but he definitely responds to anyone asking why with something about not needing elaborate armour to beat a lot of droids. He has taken on a lot of leadership roles in the company, and Rex has even made several comments about him taking over as Captain if anything was to happen to him.

Fives on the other hand got ARC armour and decided he was going to tick every single design detail he could (including the Eel helmet which probably should have been Cut’s, but he wanted his scar on his so Fives was allowed it.) Unlike the other two ARC’s, he doesn’t get an official role, but he doesn’t mind, it leaves him open to get into more trouble and not be responsible for anyone else.

Echo is still very regulation oriented, but the only known regulation he has publicly broken is modifying his armour to be mirrored so he could keep Rex’s hand print in its original position. The others tease him about this constantly. He is an exceptional strategist and is Rex’s right hand man when it comes to any sort of planning or attack strategy. He’s the most modest of the squad, and constantly talks down his abilities whenever others hype him up about his skills. He’s one of the top strategists in the GAR, but it would be a miracle if you could get him to admit that.

Cutup is ecstatic about the fact he is now covered in scars (although much bigger and less idealised than the designs on his armour) because it matches his name. He has no intention of becoming an ARC. The Rishi outpost and his long recovery changed him a lot, and left more than just physical scars, he prefers to step back from the intensity of what his brothers do, even if he was offered the promotion. He and Kix are very close, and he sometimes works as a support person in the med tent if he needs an extra set of hands.

Droidbait is the opposite. He desperately wants to be an ARC like the other three, but has never been very fit for the position. He is the least confident of the squad, and his time separated from them on Rishi didn’t help. The commemoration bands on his leg are for those who they lost on the Rishi moon, and he won’t tell anyone the significance of there being two. He was the only person who survived the droid attack (after the other four escaped) and refuses to say how he managed to, but whatever happened made him much more anxious. The others don’t pressure him into saying anything.

[siri-ike]

Empty chapter 6

Dp x dc crossover fic

First chapter 5

Johnny bids him upstairs. Apparently, he looks like shit and smells like death. Both must be remedied with food and a bath.

He's told to wait in the kitchen while the boy draws a bath.

It's weird. Being in a house. Being welcomed. Or not being feared, that is. It's basically the same thing. He looked down to examine his form. He hadn't really seen himself much. He thought he had legs before and feet. But there's just a blackish gray whisp instead. He places his hand on a table, and it phases right through it. How come he can sometimes touch things like the floor and anyone who needs to be punched, but other times just goes right through it. He raises his hand back up, so it's hovering right where it would be if he could touch the table. It doesn't even feel like anything. Concentrate. He did it before. He can do it again. There has to be some reason why. The people he punced deserved it. Is that the reason? Does the table have to deserve to be touched? Did the floor in the basement deserve to be touched?

The boy comes back and brings him up to the second floor bathroom. He hears footsteps when he walks on the wooden floor. Oh, so he does have feet. Eat your heart out, little mermaid. It isn't until he's passed all the steam that he finally sees the mirror and gets a good long look.

His face was pale his teeth and ears were unusually sharp, and his eyes, completely black, disrupted only by gloding green circles in the middle. His fluffy white hair would blend in with the steam around him, were it not for the sharp blue icicles standing up amidst it with matching ones on his collar. Then there was his shirt, it was black and ripped in such a way that it shouldn't stay up, but somehow it did. His pants were also black, scuffed, but still in one piece, they had clearly seen better days.

He grabbed his shirt, pulling on it slightly. It moved, but the icicles that looked to be on top of it suit stayed where they were. Not only that, they seemed to extend further down his chest than he could originally see. So, the icicles are part of him, but the clothes aren't. Good to know.

There he is. Just lying in the hot water. It's nice. He must have been in there for half an hour. Only his knees sticking out of the water. He watches his hair float around him so soft and smooth. The boy earlier had given him some kind of soap to put in it. And he was able to use it. Did the soap deserve to be touched? That can't be it. Has to be something else. He... wanted to touch all those things. Maybe wanting it was enough. He sits up, letting water fall from his hair down his chest, where they run along the icicles. They must not be the kind that can melt... somehow.

He reaches out for the bottle of soap in front of him. It moves a bit, but then he slides through, like it isn't there. Or he isn't there.

Once more. Deep breath, focus. He goes for the bottle, and this time, he's able to grab it. He's able to pick it up and toss it from one hand to the other. Whatever he wants. He can probably pick up other things, too. Exited, he gets out of the tub, planting his feet firmly on the wooden floor.

~euhh~

Even he can tell, that is a bad interior design choice. He could touch the towel, too. It looked much softer than it was. But who cares, he could pick it up, he could wrap it around himself. He didn't know why, but he really didn't like being naked. The clothes Johnny had left out for him felt much nicer than the towel. Whether that was because they were dry or because they were clearly well loved. The closer he got to them, the stronger the emotional energy coming from them felt. He caresses the black hoodie up to his bare chest and inhales deeply. Embarrassment, curiosity, disappointment, safety, jealousy. This hoodie had seen a lot. Paired with loose pants that reaked of anger and nothing else. The gloves and boots he'd worn before were unusable at this point, so he deemed them unnecessary.

He could also touch the hairbrush. The feeling of its bristles sliding through his hair with just the slightest bit of resistance. Everything served to answer one detail of himself. He definitely likes to be clean.

On the way downstairs He heard voices coming from the kitchen. Three of them. One was Johnny's. The other two were adults. A man and a woman. The man's voice was harsh and deep. The woman sounded familiar, energetic, and tonaly diverse. Neither sounded hostile, but he couldn't hear what they were saying from here. Nows as good a time as any to see if he can turn invisible on command, too.

_______

Sorry this chapters a little short. I just wanted him to have something relaxing for once

[perpetual-fandom-brainrot]

DRABBLES

I'm so sorry I died. I am planning to continue this, I just have to figure out where it's going. In the meantime HAVE SOME DRABBLES! (only the first one is a hybrid drabble) (I was trying not to focus on anyone and it ended up being mainly Ghost related)

I've been reading more hybrid reader fics lately, and I cannot stop thinking about the idea of a bunny hybrid reader who isn't just all timid/shy around everyone like I see in a lot of fics. All of the other bunnies treaded lightly when they got on base to avoid trouble, but not you. When you arrive on base, Ghost ofc tries to intimidate you. You don't stumble or falter, though. You hold his gaze, glaring back at him until Price has to order you both to stop. Within the first week, you're in Price's office for practicing parkour in the halls on your way to the gym. In your defense, no one else was in those hallways, and you didn't notice the cameras until then. The first time you spar with the other bunnies, you lose. They all look at you intently, waiting for some kind of response; however, you getting up with a proud smile doesn't seem to be what they were waiting for. The first time tf 141 realizes you aren't to be fucked with is the only time anyone ever steals your food. Soap jokingly picks some food off of your plate, only to be tackled to the floor and pinned down by you. No one even looks at your plate for the rest of that meal break. Tf 141 really starts to appreciate you after the first mission they bring you on. Your muscular advantage is concentrated in your legs, enabling you to use trees, buildings, and other tall structures to your advantage. You can completely disappear as long as you stay silent, and disappear you do. You and 141 are able to ambush an ambush team and take out multiple enemies before they know you're there. After that, they start taking you with them whenever you're not needed elsewhere and incorporating you into their group more.

I also can't stop thinking about a situation where newbie reader is used to glaring matches and just doesn't tolerate Ghost's bullshit. Like you get there on base and expect to settle in, meet the team, etcetera. You were hand-picked to help out with some critical missions coming up and you're... not excited, but definitely proud to be expanding your experience. You're definitely excited to make more friends to protect. When you land, Price and the team are all waiting for you. They all run through introductions with a name, rank, and some opt to say how long they've been serving. You run through the same information about yourself, making small talk with Gaz, Soap, and Roach when Price walks off. Ghost's silent stare doesn't escape you amidst it all. He barely seems to want to be near you. So, mid-conversation with the boys, you turn to face his direction and stare back at him. You can't tell what expression he has under his mask, but you're sure it's not a welcoming one, so you do your best to mirror it. You even tilt your head in Soap's direction to ask if "the statue" does this a lot. Tension rises instantly. None of you are holding weapons, yet you feel as though all of you have sniper lasers trained on your heads. Soap, probably making the smarter decision, opts not to involve himself. "Yeah, I do this a lot. What's it matter to you?" Ghost finally breaks the quiet. "Well, I just figure a statue is usually made of stone," you start, before dropping your voice to a deadpan, "and can't stare at you like you should be dead just because they did." "I don't have time for this. Soap, Roach, with me in the sparring room. Gaz, show the newbie around. Bring her to us after." You don't stop calling Ghost 'Statue' after that, mostly because you can tell it makes his blood boil as much as he tries hiding it. Price constantly has to tell the two of you to stop bickering before he reports to his own higher-ups about it. Everyone notices how much harsher Ghost Statue is on you when he's left in charge by Price, and how much harsher he tries to be when he's not. Needless to say, the two of you do not get along. It's when you start rubbing off on Soap that Ghost Statue really, really starts hating you. It's an accidental slip of the tongue, the first time Soap calls him Statue directly to his face. The glare isn't given to him though, it's given to you, and ten times worse than you've ever gotten it. Needless to say, you get a lecture in Price's office the next morning, and you stop calling Ghost by the wrong name if he can hear you. You just have to find other ways to irritate him.

This last one is kind of inspired by Riley. Simon can't hate dogs because he would hate Riley if he did. However, I can imagine Simon disliking cats. Generally, he avoids being around them if he can, but he's typically okay being in the same room. Until he meets the cat you and Soap decided to adopt (Soap, of course, knowing Simon doesn't like cats, and you being oblivious to this fact). This cat is still small enough that it sees a big tall thing and thinks climb. Soap constantly has this cat on his shoulder or, for some reason, laying on top of his mohawk. So the first time Simon walks in, this cat jumps down from where he is on Soap to make an approach. First comes the leg rubs, then comes the testing of the pants. When Simon tries to pick this cat off of his pants, the cat instead clings to his sleeve, and climbs up to his shoulder anyway. That day is the most annoyed you've ever seen Simon "Ghost" Riley. But then he turns into one of those cat dad situations. He does his best to avoid this cat when he can, but ends up not succeeding, and the cat slowly grows on him. He still claims to hell and back he would never get a cat of his own, no matter how much time he spends with your furry friend.

[fadingdaggerr]

beckon me back

pairing: brienne of tarth x gn!reader

summary: brienne comes home to winterfell after a much too long assignment

warnings: fluff, brief soft smut, arya being a menace and a cockblock, reader is a northerner (but no house stated, just that they follow the old gods)

note: sorry i’ve been away. i’ve had a lot going on in my personal life and my mental health has been horrible. hope this makes up for the absence :) also title is from animal by troye sivan

sleeping alone should not be this difficult, truly. you’d spent years alone, sleeping and traveling alike. she changed everything the first night she accidentally fell asleep on your bed one night. you had grown all to used to the warm body that wrapped around yours in the late hours, the one that snuck into your room after everyone went to bed just so she could hold you.

the cold stone of the windowsill froze your arms and hands, skin now cool to the touch. every night for the last two months, you’d been sat in this very spot, watching and waiting for her return. you’d watched rain fall from the clouds, watched as more snow gathered on the yards of winterfell, watched until your eyes burned with sleep and arms froze with the northern air. any day now.

—

a harsh push against your shoulder wakes you, another makes you open your eyes with annoyance written on your face. when your eyes finally focus, arya stark is in your face, all dressed and ready.

“get up, sloth. time to break our fasts and train,” she says as she gets off the bed.

you groan as you rise from the mattress, “you’re the one who trains, stark. i just patch up your unsuspecting victims.”

a bearskin cloak is launched on top of you head, “get dressed and get down to the dining hall. my orders, as the sister of the lady of winterfell.”

“i hate you,” you grumble as tie your trousers and tuck in the linen top.

“next thing i throw at you will be a brick. five minutes,” arya responds with a laugh as she leaves your quarters.

you checked your appearance in the mirror, everything matched, brown bearskin, brown trousers, brown boots. the only thing different was the blue tunic with grey strings, a shirt from the wardrobe at the foot of the bed. her shirt. the thought made a smile cross your face.

the descent to the dining hall felt lonely, you’d grown used to the arm looped with yours, but at least you wouldn’t be lonely at the end. the hall was boisterous with laughter and the sound of dishes clacking. you made your way through, grabbing a plate and stabbing sausages from the large dishes, as well as fruit and a thick slice of bread. you move to sit next to arya, who slides across fruit spread for you.

you half-listen to arya talk to the others at the table, training and whatever else they liked to discuss most of the day. you poked at the apple and pear slices on your plate, hardly interested in anything at all it seemed. your thoughts were broken by the horns blowing, and a call of ‘riders incoming!’

before anyone can say anything to you, you’re bolting out of the dining hall. the stone under your boots becomes snow as you head towards the gates as fast as lightning. by the time you reach the gates, they’re hardly open, but you can hear the horses whinnying from the other side. the guards laugh lightly watching you bounced on the balls on your feet waiting for her to step through the gates, to finally be home with you. the gates fully open and you’re nearly vibrating with excitement.

a black mare walked through the gates, a brown mare behind. the knight atop the first looked around as she entered the gates, blue eyes scanning each face until they find yours. she’s quick to dismount the mare, stroking her mane in thanks, before passing the lead off to a stableboy. the second her hands are free, you run towards her.

you collide into her chest with a hard thunk and a hard exhale from her lungs. her arms hold you tightly as your face moves to take residence in her neck, arms linked around her neck. she takes the opportunity to lift you off the ground slightly, walking you away from the gates and out of the way of the horses.

“i missed you,” you mumble into her skin as she sets your feet back on the ground, but you don’t let go from your hold.

“i missed you more,” she says in return, with a soft kiss to your temple, then another to your cheek. “come with me to greet lady sansa? i’m sure she’ll let me have the day to settle in once i’ve given report.”

all you want is to have her all to yourself, but what the lady of winterfell says, goes. you walk with brienne, arm-in-arm, happy, no longer lonely. you stand off to the side as sansa welcomes brienne home, a gentle hug shared between two friends. podrick comes to stand next to you, and you link your arms and rest your head on his shoulder while he speaks to only you.

“she’ll try to hide it, but she’s got a pretty large scrape down her side from a fall,” you grip his arm tighter as a question, “we got ambushed by a small group of raiders. thought they could overpower us, only win of the night for them was pushing her into a fallen tree.”

“what was their fate?” you ask, anger towards the men evident in your tone.

“cut down shortly after she got back up.”

“good,” you say with a bitter smile, your eyes glued to brienne as she spoke to sansa.

brienne bows and turns away from sansa, making her away over to you and pod. you untangle your arm from your friend’s, only to have brienne’s arm wrap around your waist underneath your cloak. her fingers play with the material of the shirt you’re wearing, a smile stretches across her face.

—

the large oak door shuts behind you. immediately you’re pressed against it with brienne’s lips moving against yours with a hurry. her hands firm on your hips, yours on the back on her neck, fingers tangled in her short hair. you push yourself off the wall, backing brienne towards the bed. the back of her knees hit the bed, causing her body to fall onto the bed and take you with her. your hands find the bottom of her tunic, pulling it up until you reveal the entirety of her abdomen.

“darling, wait-” she rushes to pull her top down.

“pod didn’t say they were this bad…” your fingers hovered over the injury, not wanting to put more pressure on the reddening skin.

“it’s not, i swear. it’s healing that’s why it looks- you already know that,” she says with a huff.

“i do,” you say through a laugh, “just like i know you would’ve tried to hide this as long as possible.” you get off the bed, with only a groan from brienne in refusal. grabbing your kit, you find a salve and bandages to coat her cuts. you rounded the bed and manhandled brienne until she was sat up to make it easier to check her wounds.

her skin is so soft, it should be a crime in itself to hurt someone so beautiful, you think to yourself. you pull her tunic off of her, exposing her chest and abdomen to you. fingers trace the collection of freckles across her skin, the scars from years of battle, following her story before tending to her. you lightly apply the salve with barely-there pressure. your focus stays on her skin, not noticing how brienne is in an awe of her own just looking at you.

soft eyes watching how gentle you are with her, not once did she think it possible that she would be so adored. the excited way you had taken her arm, how you kissed the bandages you placed on her. and don’t get her started on the sheer joy she felt when she saw you waiting for her, especially after sansa had said all you do is wait for her when she’s away.

as you pulled away from her abdomen, her hands rose to hold you face. you nearly melted at that peaceful gaze in her eyes, the rosiness that painted her cheeks from your affections. your head moved forewords, pressing your lips to her forehead, between her eyes, the top of her nose, until you pressed your lips to hers, soft and sweet.

“all done,” another kiss, “nothing strenuous for a week,” another, “one. week. do you hear me brienne?”

she smiles, knowing she’s guilty of not listening and causing herself more pain, “whatever shall i do then for a whole week, sweet healer of mine?”

“i have a couple ideas,” you say as you lean into her, watching as she licks her lips in anticipation.

“really?” she says thickly. “and what are they?”

you move to speak directly into her ear, your lips just barely grazing the shell as you whisper, “rest and read a book.”

brienne grabs you and twists so that you’re underneath her, splayed across the mattress. your arms immediately fling to her neck, laughing loudly at the action. she presses a long, sound kiss to your lips, nudging your nose with hers as she pulls away.

“i love you,” you say, breathless from laughter and her lips. one hand moves to her hair, the other traces shapes along her bare back.

“i love you,” her face hides in your neck. she presses soft pecks along your neck where her lips can reach.

you continue your ministrations as you speak, “never leave me for that long again. two months without you was torture.”

brienne laughs lightly, “it felt the same for me, my love. but i had to remind myself, quite often, that it was my duty and that running off to you would only cost of more than we’d gain.”

“aye, my name’s brienne of tarth and i like honor more than a rather skilled tongue on m-” you’re stopped by a hand over your lips, brienne’s face never leaving your neck.

“didn’t you say i had to rest?” she says, face warming already.

“i didn’t say i had to,” you say as your arms wrap around her shoulder, a leg around her hips. “you could just,” you twist and switch your positions, now straddling her hips with her eyes staring up at you, “lay back.”

your lips crash to hers, but waste no time to start nipping at her neck and licking over her skin. when your mouth finds her breasts, you feel her hands grip at your back. a swirl of your tongue makes nails dig into your skin through your shirt, a suck of her skin makes a groan rise from her throat. your hands ignore the expanse of her stomach, not wanting to touch her still sensitive wounds.

your lips find sanctuary with hers as your free hand unties her pants. her teeth nip and pull at your lips, making you moan into her mouth. i love you’s said with every kiss, bite, touch. you hand moves into her pants, not bothering to remove them, needing to feel her. she’s so warm, so wet, for you. your fingers trace along her folds, gathering her arousal before bringing your hand to your mouth. your eyes roll back with a moan at the taste of her, and brienne swears she sees every god at the sight of you.

finding yourself back between her legs, your middle finger enters her slowly as you watch her face. another enters after a few pumps, making brienne moan deeply. her hands force your lips down to hers, to which go gladly accept. everything about her is perfect to you, and for something as perfect as her to be missing from you, it was painful. but not as painful as the hard knocking on your door was at this second.

“WE NEED A HEALER OUT HERE!” arya screamed through the door.

your hand slowly pulled away from brienne as you groaned loudly before telling back, “BREAK MY DOOR AND I’LL KICK YOUR ASS, GIRL!”

“FIVE MINUTES!” she replies before you hear her footsteps disappear.

“go,” brienne says through a laugh, “before she injures more people, especially you.”

you kiss her gently before rising, “i’m sorry. i’ll be quick as a fox, i promise.”

she catches your hand before bringing to her lips, “quick as a fox.”

—

wrapping a bandage around rickon’s arm, you speak to arya, “you could’ve gotten literally anyone else to do this.”

she shakes her head, “rickon doesn’t like anyone else.”

you look at rickon with a smile, “that true, little lord? i’m your favorite?”

his curly hair bounces as he nods, “yeah. especially because you’re married to a knight.”

you feel your cheek warm as you laugh at his comment, “we’re not married, sweet lord,” you tie the bandage so it stays secure, “i’m not sure the gods would allow us. but we love each other regardless, i assure you.”

you rise from your crouch in front of rickon before scanning around for others who may need you. seeing none, you shove the medicine kit into arya’s arms.

“if anyone needs help, use some common sense. i’m going back to my quarters and barring the door. bother us again before the sun rises tomorrow, and i’ll drop you down a well. good evening, m’lady, m’lord.”

—

sun shining through the window hits your eyes, waking you from a deep and peaceful slumber. knuckles dug into your eyes as you rubbed them harshly, desperate to get rid of the brightness. you blinked a few times before looking at your stomach, finally processing the weight on top of you.

a quietly sleeping brienne, head resting on your lower abdomen, one hand flailed off to the side as the other held your thigh. you smile at the view, you had missed waking up like this. with her.

after allowing yourself to admire her for a while, you brushed your fingers through her hair, scratching her scalp as a means to gently wake her. her only sign of waking is a loud exhale and a soft kiss to your skin.

“the sun is rising, we must join it, lovely,” you say with a yawn. brienne’s head rises, lowering for a moment to kiss lower than she had before, then climbing up and taking purchase in your neck.

your hands push her head back so you can look at her. sleepy blue eyes looking back, adoration swimming in pools of sodalite. she drops her head to kiss you, lips lazy and soft. when she shifts her thigh between yours, you pull back.

“brienne…” she kisses you softly, then let’s you speak again, “we should be getting ready.” this time you seal your sentence with a kiss to her lips.

“i know, but you’re comfortable. i quite missed my personal pillow,” she says with a smile, one that has your heart stuttering.

you laugh at her words, “and i missed my personal blanket, but we still must rise,” her huffed breath makes you laugh more, “usually the roles are reversed here. don’t you want to break your fast and enjoy your day? surely you don’t want to lay here all day.”

“i’d be fine laying here all day with you,” her words make your heart ache, “but you won’t let that happen, will you?”

her eyes and voice were swaying you, the little patterns her fingers traces were silently begging you to stay. you sigh and answer with, “if the lady sansa gives us leave for the day, i will gladly stay here with you until the sun rises on the morrow,” she smiles, “but you must eat, you haven’t since you returned.”

“yes, i have. you don’t recall?”

you burst with laughter, “not what i meant and you know it, absolute menace.”

you’re lost in your own mind staring at brienne as she catches up with friends around the room. a pea flies across the table and pelts against your cheek, you look up to see arya. she slides down to you, holding her cup to her face to hide her mouth as she spoke.

“did she even give you a break? you looked like she gave you purpose with her hands,” she jests.

“good morning to you too, lady arya. it is a lovely morning, i agree,” you say with sarcasm dripping in your voice.

“so she really did you in, i see. but seriously, you seem happier with her around. i’m happy for you,” she says before getting an orange seed to the face.

“you’re so weird,” you knocked her shoulder, “but you’re right, she makes me happy,” you smile as you watch brienne laughs loudly. her gaze lands on yours, eyes crinkling with her big smile.

i love you, your eyes scream to her.

i love you, hers yell back.

again sorry for being ia. i’ll work on being a bit more active :) as usual, feedback is appreciated love u big time <3

[svltzmans]

so hot you're hurting my feelings - h.m.

a/n: this was a request from a lovely anon :) i had a lot of fun writing it so i hope you all love it! i'm still pretty new to writing explicit content so bear with me!! (i'm also obsessed with naming my fics after songs, this one is by caroline polachek and i feel like it fits the bill)

pairing: hope mikaelson x fem!heretic! reader

warnings: smut (18+), dirty talk, lots of praise including use of "good girl"

"how the fuck did you do that?," y/n asks, exasperated. her girlfriend, hope, had just performed the most intricate spell she had ever seen.

"here, i'll teach you," hope responds, going through the spell again, step by step, explaining thoroughly to y/n.

"you're so cute when you get into explaining something, but i'm still so confused."

"come on, you're a tough girl. i'll go through it again. you do it with me this time."

so hope performed the spell again, slowly so y/n could follow suit.

the first few times y/n attempted the spell, she just couldn't get it quite right.

it was frustrating, sure, but hope was right. y/n was tough. she wasn't one to show much emotion outwardly.

but hope could read her well. they hadn't been dating long, but hope had put effort into learning her girlfriend's mannerisms.

"hey, it's okay. you're doing so good."

y/n can't help the warmth that starts in her stomach and only moves downwards at hope's words. hope's naturally sensual voice never helps.

"let's try one more time. ready?"

and they do. hope leads the way, performing the spell slowly at first but gaining speed at the final steps. y/n continues mirroring hope's actions, and it's clear that she's gotten the hang of it.

"lecutio," they both chant, as sparks generate in both of their hands.

"look at you go, y/n! i'm so proud of you. you did such a good job," hope praises, taking y/n's hand in her own.

the feeling in y/n's body returns stronger this time, and she can't help the furious blush that comes across her face. she finds herself hoping that her girlfriend couldn't tell how her words were affecting her.

y/n's favorite part of her week was the "history of magic" class she shared with hope. the pair would always sit side by side, both dilligently taking notes on the course content while also slyly exchanging looks of admiration once in a while.

"does anyone remember the year "icaeus" became officially recognized as a spell?," the instructor speaks, scanning the room for willing students prepared to answer his question.

y/n raises her hand, much to hope's enjoyment. she admires her girlfriend's academic confidence, especially because many people see her as guarded and overly intimidating.

"around 3000 B.C.," y/n answers, not even referencing her notes.

"that's correct, y/n. someone's been paying attention," the instructor says through a smile.

hope leans closer to y/n until she's just inches away from her face. "damn, my girlfriend is smart. great job, beautiful," she says, smiling mischievously.

y/n has to physically stifle a sinful noise, although she manages to play it off with a playful eyeroll directed at hope. confident that hope didn't notice her initial reaction, she continues listening to the lecture of the day.

a wickery match was in full swing, an even mix of witches, werewolves, and vampires all happily participating, including hope and y/n.

not only is y/n tough, but she is also quite strong. nobody else in the game could throw the ball quite as far as she could.

after being passed the ball by kaleb, y/n realized she only had one possible move; throw it all the way across the field to a completely unguarded mg.

she knows it's not going to be easy, but doesn't hesitate to use every muscle in her arm to get it as far as she can.

to everyone's shock, the ball reaches mg seemingly effortlessly.

"holy shit! y/l/n, that was amazing!," lizzie shouts, her enthusiasm for the game obvious.

embracing the attention, y/n graciously recieves high-fives from the fellow players.

hope wraps her arms around her from behind, squeezing her girlfriend in an affectionate hug.

"you did so good today, y/n. i'm so proud of you."

this time, y/n whines. she hopes its quiet enough that hope doesn't hear it, but with her werewolf hearing, she's sure she must have.

y/n lays in her bed, several pages deep in a new novel when she hears a knock at her door.

"come in!," she shouts, almost certain she won't be surprised by who is standing in the doorway.

"hey honey, whatcha reading?"

it's hope, closing the door behind her and plopping into bed alongside her girlfriend.

"just this new fantasy novel. you know, like castles and shit."

"sounds like fun, but i think i'm more interesting."

nodding in agreement, y/n puts a bookmark in her novel and puts it on her nightstand. she lays next to hope, gently putting her head on her chest.

"can i ask you a question?," hope speaks after a few seconds of silence.

"anything," y/n responds.

"is there anything i say that... you know, has a particular effect on you?"

"effect on me?"

"yeah, you know ... something i do that.. you like?"

"i don't know what you're talking about."

y/n is lying through her teeth, and they both know it.

"i just happened to notice, you know, a pattern of behavior."

"what kind of behavior?"

"just, you know, some blushing. extra blushing. maybe even some interesting noises."

"fuck, you heard that?"

"oh, so you do know what i'm talking about."

"no!"

hope knew y/n wouldn't stop denying her desire for praise, and she knew exactly how to force the truth out of her.

"here, let me try something," hope says, looking y/n directly in the eyes.

"okay?" y/n looks directly back, although she is confused by hope's response.

"you are such a good girl, y/n," hope slurs, her voice sultry.

before hope can even register what is happening, y/n's lips are on hers, passionately moving against them.

"so i guess i was right then, huh?," hope teases when the pair finally separates to breathe.

"shut up, mikaelson."

"lay down," hope responds, y/n happy to oblige.

"such a good girl you are, listening to me," hope teases, running her finger down y/n's still clothed torso.

"jesus hope, just take my clothes off already," y/n responds, growing impatient.

and hope does, stripping y/n naked in what feels like a matter of seconds.

"so beautiful, baby," hope coos, before pulling herself on top of y/n, straddling her.

hope's hands start to gently wander, grabbing hold of y/n anywhere she could.

"hope, please just touch me."

"i am touching you."

"you know what i mean."

"i really don't," hope continues to tease. "if you want something, you're gonna have to tell me, otherwise i'll just never know..."

"please just put your fingers inside me," y/n interrupts, her skin growing hot with desperation.

"ah, that's my good girl," hope responds, only adding to the pooling between y/n's legs.

hope lays between y/n's legs, admiring her naked form.

running a finger over y/n's inner thigh, hope studies the way her body responds, with gentle twitches and heavy breathing.

finally, hope gently pushes two fingers into y/n, still focusing on the way she responds.

y/n can't help but let out an obscene moan, finally receiving the feeling she'd been craving for so long.

hope adjusts to a steady pace, curling her fingers each time they're fully inside y/n's aching core.

"such a good girl, taking my fingers like this," hope praises, her voice raspy.

"fuck, hope. f-feels so good," y/n manages to respond, feeling the pleasure build in her stomach.

hope uses her thumb to rub tight circles on y/n's clit, enjoying the way her whines and moans only get louder.

she feels y/n start to squeeze around her fingers, knowing she's close.

"gonna cum for me, aren't you? so good baby," she coos, encouraging y/n to let go.

"god, hope...," y/n almost screams, giving up on holding back as her orgasm crashes over her in multiple waves.

hope talks her through her orgasm with gentle whispers of "that's it, beautiful. you did such a good job for me."

when y/n finally comes down from her high and catches her breath, hope pulls her back onto her chest to relax.

"so, a praise kink, huh?," hope jests, earning a gentle push from y/n.

a/n: it's 7am as i'm posting this 😭 it's already horny on this blog this early

(also why is the formatting on this so weird like some of it is double spaced and some not? how do i fix this help)

[mayajadewrites]

I Wish I Hated You (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

summary: You don't do second chances. Especially after you gave your heart to Levi Ackerman, and he decided to throw it away so the next person has to repair the damage. Will Levi put his ego aside and finally admit his feelings for you are far deeper than you imagined? Or is a second chance out of the question?

warnings: eventual smut, this is a slow burn

ao3

C H A P T E R F O U R : B E N E F I T S

It's been over 2 months now since your breakup. 2 months of trying to heal, 2 months of trying to rebuild yourself and the idea that you don't need Levi to survive.

You've started to get dressed again - making sure you spend time on self care and actually caring about your appearance. Work has been the same, the coffee shop has become one of your safe havens honestly. It's like your worries fade away when you walk through the door and you can live a different life than the one outside.

You're about to clock out from your opening shift when Hange strolls in.

"Hi my love!" Hange leaned on the counter, tapping her fingers. "I have someone I want to set you up with." 

"Hange..." You raised your eyebrow. "I don't need to be set up with anyone."

"You need to get laid." Hange doubled down. "If anything, you'll have a little fun. What's wrong with that!" 

You stare at Hange for a moment. You haven't thought of laying in a bed with anyone else besides Levi. You can't imagine someone else touching your skin, caressing your curves, taking care of you in every way to make sure you reach that high.

It has to happen eventually. 

"Fine. Who is it?"

"Great! It's this cute intern at my job. He seems fun and young." 

"I'm 29 years old Hange, please tell me he's old enough to drink." 

"Oh yes of course! He's 23." 

You press your palm to your forehead. "I don't want anything serious. I would want just something casual." 

"Well then hopefully he doesn't fall in love with you! Are you done with work?"

"I am." You slide your apron off, pressing buttons on the register to clock out. "Do you want something before I leave?"

"I'll never say no to coffee." 

- 

Hange has the intern text you, turns out his name is Jean. Hange sent a picture of him to you before he text you - he's not Levi, that's for sure. He's cute though. He has light brown hair with brown eyes to match. He's a lot taller than Levi, which means he's a lot taller than you. 

Jean seems to be on the same type of time as you. He doesn't want anything serious, only fun. He's funny and sends you good morning and good night texts. Seemingly the perfect friend with benefits. 

Jean invites you out to a club on Friday night with him and his friends, which includes Mikasa. This eases your anxiety since you'll know at least one person there. 

Jean: It's all my work friends. I'm sure you know most of them.

You: It'll be nice to see them. Is Hange going?

Jean: I don't think Hange ever says no to drinks. 

When Friday rolls around, you cause a tornado in your closet looking for an outfit. You pick out a lacy corset top with jeans that hug your curves, and a pair of square toe black heels. Your hair is styled half up, half down with some of your hair framing your face. You add glittery lipgloss as the cherry on top of the look, carefully tracing over your lips as you look in the mirror.

This is the first time you're actually hanging out with Jean. It's also the first time in a long time that you're going clubbing. 

You take a picture in your full length mirror and send it to Hange for approval.

Hange: Holy SHIT!! You look hot! Jean won't be able to keep his hands off you. Be prepared to take him home ;)

You: That's why I took an everything shower. Lol.

You grab your purse and call your uber to head to the club. It's 10:30 PM - Jean said he was going to be there around 10 and you wanted to be late but not too late to where he thinks he's being stood up. 

-

You walk into the club and immediately spot Hange at the bar dancing like no one is watching. You smile to yourself as you tap her on her shoulder. 

"You made it!!" Hange practically jumped on you to hug you. "Jean is right there." She pointed.

You make your way to where Jean was standing, which was in a circle with Mikasa, Eren, and a few others. 

"Hey!" Jean gave you a light hug, his eyes tracking your movements. "You look amazing." 

"Thank you." You smile before looking at Mikasa. "Hi you!" 

"You never come out!" Mikasa said. "I'm so happy Jean got you out. Eren's grabbing me a drink, he'll love to see you!"

Jean introduced you to the rest of the group: Armin, Connie, Sasha, Reiner and Annie.

Jean got you a drink and stood close to you as the music blared. The group talked about work projects coming up and how stressful they are. Jean's hand snaked around your waist, pulling you a bit closer to him. He smells good - he definitely bought a strong cologne for this occasion. You lean into him, letting your ass graze over his pelvis.

You both start to move to the beat, now Jean's face is in your neck. He kisses your skin gently as his hips move in time with yours. The liquor starts to course through your veins, giving you more courage. You spin yourself around to face Jean, planting a kiss on his lips. His right hand lays on your cheek as he continues kissing you, his pinky moving back and forth on your skin. 

You let your body mend with Jean's, letting yourself have this moment. You haven't kissed anyone but Levi in years and this new pair of lips are taking care of you. Jean is fun. Jean is happy. 

You pull away for a moment to take a sip of your drink, watching Jean's eyes trail over your curves. You smile at him until you hear a familiar voice.

"Where is she?" Guess who.

"You're such a cock block." Hange rolls her eyes. "She's having FUN. Leave her alone." 

"This was your idea wasn't it four eyes." His voice is getting closer. "Ah, my lovely staff." 

You turn to see Levi, dressed in a grey sweater, blank pants and a pair of brand new sneakers. Erwin isn't far behind him. 

"Oh, boss!" Jean waves and then puts his hand back on your hip.

Oh shit. He doesn't know you dated Levi. Did no one warn him?

Levi's eyes went straight to Jean's hand. If looks could kill, Jean would be dead. 

Mikasa and Eren looked at each other - the only two besides Erwin and Hange that know of yours and Levi's relationship. 

Levi's eyes fall to you and you swear you can see fire in them. You lean your ass back into Jean, letting your head fall on his chest. 

"Hi Levi." 

[thepunchingbag]

I think Atton's jealousy and resentment of Mical goes a lot deeper than "he stole my girl."

Firstly, Mical is roughly 10 years younger than Atton/the Exile. Which means, Mical - while his life path was certainly altered due to the Wars - never had to fight in either the Mando or Jedi Civil Wars. For the most part, he's lived in a post-war society and doesn't have a jaded worldview. Sure, Mical criticizes the Order but there's no hatred; he's simply disappointed in their shortcomings. He very much still has faith in the Republic, because he never really saw how much of a clusterfuck the administration was during wartime. So Atton, right off the bat, sees Mical as this irritating kid who doesn't know what he's talking about. And the fact the kid's a Republic spy (and a diplomatic spy at that, so missions are mostly fact-finding involving politics rather than getting a blaster pointed between the eyes), is just extra salt in the wound. Sure, he's "serving" in the Republic military, just with all the glory and none of the PTSD, lingering medical issues due to combat injuries, and none of the lifelong problems with substance abuse.

Also, I headcanon young Jaq (before getting severely mentally fucked up during the War) as a bit of a wide-eyed "Gee Whiz!" idealist. And now Atton sees this mirrored in this pretty boy wannabe field physician-turned-spy. Except Mical never gets the idealism smacked out of him, assuming the Exile's LS. In fact, this kid seems to be rewarded for his idealism at every turn.

Hell, I bet the fact that Mical's a Republic spy and that's another lightside mirror to Atton being a Sith assassin, just rubs Atton all kinds of wrong.

Second, Mical is perhaps a bit naive (okay, more than a bit) but he's very intelligent. He's openly a bookworm and, say what you will, Mical was the only one to discover Kreia's plan on his own. Even Kreia says he's a "wasted" pawn of the Republic, that he could have been so much more. She, grudgingly, respects him (as much as Kreia respects anyone outside of Revan and the Exile). So, once again, compare this with "the fool", Atton, who is clearly also quite intelligent in his own way. However, nobody really sees that because Atton acts like a dumbass in order for people to underestimate him. This probably futhers Atton's resentment - this snot-nosed nerd gets to flaunt his brainpower, but Atton's always flying under the radar.

Even worse would be if young Jaq had dreams of maybe going to a good university after serving, maybe hoping to use whatever the Republic's version of the GI Bill program was - only for Jaq to be too messed up after the War and not to mention he deserted, so he's probably thrown all chances at getting military benefits out the window.

Now to throw the match into the kerosene-soaked mess of Atton's hatred - is when the Exile potentially starts to grow close to Mical. It's like, of course, Atton feels like garbage not worthy breathing the same air as the Exile. But he'd hoped that perhaps she'd at least never grow close to anyone else. That they would stay in a state of relationship limbo forever.

So... on top of everything else, the kid gets her too?

Atton would be seething, even if he's LS. I think the only reason LS Atton restrains himself from cornering Mical on Malachor and shoving his lightsaber through his eyesocket, is because that would upset the Exile. If Atton's DS, all he feels is his rage, bitterness, and resentment - plus the overwhelming desire to see a Jedi's life bleed out on the floor.

Meanwhile, I think Mical regards Atton with bemused pity. Also he shows him compassion, since Mical is emotionally mature enough to see Atton is a very broken man.

Which of course just pisses off Atton more.

[floralcyanide]

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐀 𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 • 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫

Part Four (NSFW)

Roman Bridger x AFAB!Reader

The day Roman first laid eyes on you, he knew he had to have you. There was something about you that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, and usually, he was good at reading people off the bat. But you were a different story. Naturally, you only opened up when necessary, not letting people in if you didn’t have a reason to. So you were guarded, and Roman didn’t like that. He wanted to worm his way into your life, no matter what it took.

If that took delving into his twisted past again in order to get to you, so be it.

AFAB - (assigned female at birth) someone who is born female but can identify with she/her or other pronouns. reader pronouns are gender neutral, so people who use any pronouns can read, but female anatomy will be used and described in this fanfiction eventually.

warnings: discussion of sex, innuendo, smut in the next chapter!

word count: 1860

author's note: hiii welcome to part 4!! I was gonna write smut for this chapter but I didn't want it to be too long, so it'll have to be the next one, sorry!! (; I hope you all enjoy, and if you do, please like and reblog <3

series masterlist | masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

“You have to wear something hot. Like one of your button-ups or maybe something form-fitting? Roman loves someone with confidence.”

“I’m not the most confident person, but he still asked me on a date. Also, how do you know what’s in my closet?”

“I sort of snooped in there while you were showering the other day. Sorry. I got bored, okay!”

You roll your eyes at Sage, trying to hide your laugh but failing.

She is currently assisting you on what to wear to your coffee date with Roman. After filming wrapped for the day, something came up, so he had to go somewhere instead of meeting you in the parking lot. You were thankful for this, so you could go home and actually prepare to look decent. You almost always showed up to set in sweats. 

Having a friend who is a girl is a handful sometimes, but in a fashion situation, it has its perks. Sage definitely had a taste for fashion, whether it was for men, women, or something else. You ponder wearing one of your patterned button-ups. Hopefully, it won’t clash with whatever button-up Roman was likely going to wear because you’ve noticed that was most of his wardrobe.

Sage eyeballs your closet, sifting through it before snatching a red button-up with black and white designs on it, “Ooh, what about this one?” 

You purse your lips, indecisively moving your head to the side, “I could always wear that with some jeans.”

“Good idea. In case of accidentally matching shirts with Roman, at least you won’t have to worry about matching his pants, too,” Sage giggles.

“True,” you scoff, checking your watch for the time. 

You had about 15 minutes until the time Roman set to meet at the coffee house, so you had to hurry and get ready quickly. You and Sage had been fooling around a tad too long.

“Okay, take this,” Sage says, handing over the shirt, “And then these.”

You stare down at the black cargo pants and nod in approval. Sage smiles and gives you two thumbs-ups before you hurry to the bathroom to change and make your hair presentable.

After pulling the outfit on, you study yourself in the mirror. You’ve been wondering all day long why Roman would want to ask you out all day. Well, technically, it was for work, but still. You could’ve hung out at the studio or his office instead. But he chose to take you for coffee. What did he see in you that you didn’t see about yourself? Especially with the whole making you a primary cast member spiel. You didn’t talk to anyone you didn’t have to and often stayed out of the limelight. Also, being an extra was your forte. You liked being dramatic but not up front where everyone could see. However, being a big-time actor has crossed your mind before. This could be your chance to do something crazy and interesting in your life for once. Who knows.

You mess around with your hair and face for a few minutes until everything looks as perfect as possible to you. Walking out of the bathroom, Sage nods her head in approval.

“You look fabulous. Now go eat that man alive!”

You beat Roman to the coffee house.

You’re sitting in the back corner facing the direction of the door, nervously glancing up at it occasionally. You wish you had brought a book or something. But you hadn’t expected Roman to be nearly 20 minutes late by this point. You distract yourself by looking at the menu again, momentarily taking your eyes off the door. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late. The higher-ups are long-winded when it comes to discussing certain things for the movie,” Roman sits in front of you with an apologetic sigh.

“You’re fine, I understand!” you smile, setting the menu down.

“So,” Roman returns your smile, “Decided on what you want yet?”

“I think just a regular coffee will do,” you nod.

“Same here. Hopefully, after the coffee, I’ll feel more up for discussing the script with you. I’m kind of beat right now,” Roman rubs his chin, staring at you.

“It’s whatever you’re okay with. I don’t mind just talking for now,” you say, much to Roman’s delight.

He asks you about your life, like where you’re originally from and why you’re here in Hollywood. After telling him where you’re from and him not having a clue as to where that was, you go on to why you’re in California.

“I’ve always been a fan of theater and how the whole process behind shows and movies works. I went to college for it, even. I learned I’m not the best at being in the spotlight, so I tried the next best thing, which was being a set extra,” you say.

Before Roman can answer, a waitress comes and takes your orders. Her eyes linger on Roman for a tad too long, you notice. You feel kind of awkward about it. You weren’t jealous, but sometimes you forget Roman has women and sometimes men flinging themselves at him. It’s just something you didn’t personally understand, as no one has ever made an effort to express interest in you. 

“Someone thought you were cute,” you chuckle once the waitress is out of earshot.

“Not my type,” Roman dismisses quickly with a wave of his hand.

“Oh really?” you play with a button by the collar of your shirt, “What is your type then, if you don’t mind me asking? She was pretty.”

“I like people who are confident in themselves, but to a degree where they aren’t snobby about it. Someone who is intelligent and knows what they want in numerous ways.”

“Knows what they want, huh? Elaborate on that,” you say, quieting your voice when the waitress returns with your coffee.

You and Roman thank the waitress, and you look at each other before bursting into a fit of giggles once she’s far away.

“Well,” Roman clears his throat, picking up his cup, “About anything, really. Their career, their goals, what they desire in a relationship, sex, whatever.”

You raise your eyebrows in slight surprise, “All good points. Ever meet anyone with all of those qualities?”

“I was with someone for a few years, but they were confident in everything except the last one. Which became a problem towards the end,” Roman sips his coffee.

“Oh,” you purse your lips, “That’s unfortunate.”

“Yeah. Which is funny because they ended up cheating on me.”

“Damn,” you say around the cup of coffee, “Sorry about that. I relate somewhat.”

“The cheating part or the confidence in sex?” Roman smirks.

“Definitely not the sex part,” you feel your face burn in slight embarrassment, “But I have been cheated on before. It’s no fun.”

“Why would anyone cheat on someone like you? You’re,” Roman pauses, letting his eyes wander up every inch of your body that was available, “Perfect.”

“Far from it, but I appreciate that,” you chuckle, scratching the back of your neck.

“No, really. You’re a great person, and I’d love to get to know you better. Who knows, maybe I’ll find out just how confident you are sometime,” Roman gives you a suggestive smile before taking a drink.

“Oh really?” your face burns again, “And how do you plan on doing that, Roman?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I need to know more about you first,” he shrugs, sitting back in his chair, crossing his arms.

“Like what?” you lean forward, resting your head on your fists with your elbows on the table.

“Hmm,” Roman pretends to think hard before leaning forward on the table, resting on his arms, “Biggest turn-on?”

A part of you is wondering how the conversation came to this and whether or not it’s appropriate. Still, at the same time, your crush on Roman is making your brain fuzzy. Even more so with the question he just asked. You almost hesitate to answer, but after all, why not?

“Probably dirty talk. If you’re confident enough to tell me everything you want to do to me, then I believe you’ll do it, and that’s attractive to me,” you say, eyes darting around as casually as possible because you can’t really look Roman in the eyes right now.

“Understandable. I enjoy describing every step to whoever I’m pleasing and watching them get flustered,” Roman says.

“Ah,” your eyes avert to his finally, “Is that your biggest turn-on, too?”

“No. Mine is when someone lets me do whatever I want to them,” Roman relaxes into the chair again, sipping his coffee.

“Oh,” you raise your eyebrows, “And what things would that include?”

Your stomach is bursting with butterflies, your mind racing and wandering to a very suggestive place you haven’t visited in quite some time.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Y/N,” Roman smirks, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

“Yes,” you say confidently, “I would, actually. I’m curious.”

“Curious or needy? I feel like your imagination would do cartwheels with what I tell you.”

You gulp, involuntarily pressing your legs together, “Well, we’ve come this far into the conversation. You asked me, so now I get to ask you.”

“Whatever you say,” Roman chuckles, “I like teasing my partners relentlessly,” he lowers his voice, leaning closer to you, “Until they can’t take it anymore. Then, I start slow and build up gradually. I’ll go until they’re a withering, wet mess. Even after they cum, I’ll continue until I’m satisfied.”

You slowly inhale, trying to keep your best poker face on, “Interesting. You seem like the type to want to be in control.”

You and Roman are now inches apart, eyes locked, and tension thicker than before.

“Would you like to find out, sweetheart?” Roman moves his hand up slowly, running his index finger from your collarbone to underneath your chin, where he lifts it up.

Your eyes widen slightly, “Um, wouldn’t we get in trouble?”

“No, besides, we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I want to,” you say quietly.

“It’s gotta be an explicit ‘yes’ or ‘no.’”

You take a deep breath before letting it out slowly, “Yes.”

Your brain is foggy with lust as Roman stands up from the table, slapping down cash on it before offering his hand out to you. You take his hand, standing up and trying not to let your legs wobble. Roman says his condo is about 5 minutes away, walking you to his flashy car. God, you can’t believe you’re doing this right now. Sage was going to ask a million questions. You climb into the car, buckling up as Roman does the same while he starts the car. He rests a hand on your thigh as he drives, causing warmth to spread to your stomach. You can’t help but get lost in your thoughts, imagining what Roman would do to you. You spend the whole car ride in silence.

By the time you arrive at Roman’s, you can feel how wet you’ve become just from your imagination doing “cartwheels,” as Roman put it. 

But here, in the next few minutes, you won’t have to imagine anymore. 

taglist:

@bridgergf @crinimalmindsfan13 @oddlittleminx @axen-gers @alwayslilithnevreve @belovedtylerrr @bonbekahsfav @elliotss @jokersgrf @snazzynacho @sonyaswife @cobra-kaii

[turniparts]

So... Life series winners as Omori characters anyone? Individual ref sheets and more info under the cut :D

Okay SO, for starters I will just say that I am biased towards Scott Smajor and that is why I made him the main character. However, I do believe that in the end he does kind of make the most sense for Sunny considering that everyone else fits better as the other characters imo. Also I used tints of blue instead of black and white bc drawing Scott in black and white just simply feels incorrect.

Anyway, Scar and Pearl are just 100% Hero and Aubrey respectively. A lot of Hero's character revolves around his charming personality, which he uses in headspace to get people to do him favors. I feel like this matches up with Scar's "too charismatic for his own good" schtick that usually happens in the life series.

Aubrey reacts to a negative experience where she was abandoned by IMMEDIATELY lashing out at everyone and becoming a social outcast, hanging out with delinquents. I don't think it's rocket science to see that Pearl, who reacted to negative experiences where she was abandoned by going crazy and lashing out at everyone, matches her character really well.

Going from there, Scott as Sunny makes sense because of his abandonment of Pearl in double life mirroring Sunny's retreat from Aubrey and his friends in how the latter reacted.

Then Grian as Mari because 1) Desert Duo(not necessarily romantic, just in how they are inextricably linked), and 2) He was the first winner and with Watcher stuff I feel like his character is best suited to Mari's role in headspace.

That left Cleo and Martyn as Kel and Basil. These two were the ones I debated the longest, because I feel like they both suit both roles. I went with Cleo as Kel because she's the one who stuck with Scott throughout every life series, like how Kel never gave up on knocking on Sunny's door.

Martyn and Scott were of course the mean gills, and Martyn won through attacking Scott despite all they'd been through together. Basil experienced the trauma with Sunny but still ended up attacking him in his fear. Plus with listener lore I feel like Martyn being the only other person to know the truth makes sense.

Also, whether you look at it in the celestial bodies interpretation(Grian Sun, Scott Stars, Pearl Moon, Martyn Mars, Scar Earth, Cleo Pluto) or tarot cards interpretation(Grian Sun, Scott Stars, Pearl Moon, Martyn Tower, Scar World, Cleo Fool), the omori characters also match up to those.

Sorry that was a lot of explanation for why I linked the specific characters I did. Onto the flowers! Scott as a poppy actually makes a lot of sense even w/out flower husbands, as it's a flower that symbolizes sleep, due to its use in sleeping gas, as well as death, which both match up with how Sunny acted in game.

Pearl is a Datura becuase of its ties to the moon(Moonflowers) as well as its other name(Devil's Trumpet) referencing her Double life character. It is also a very spiritual flower for many cultures, which ties into Aubrey and how she attends church.

Cleo being a succulent feels self explanatory, much like Kel's cactus in game they are easy to take care of and grow under many conditions.

Scar is lavender because of its associations with calming and devotion. Hero acts as the group's peace-keeper, and Scar with this role would do the same. It also has some medicinal properties like soothing headaches and having anti-inflammatory effects, which I feel fits well.

Martyn is a water lily because the season he won was the mean gills season, which I wanted to tie in. Their meaning being rebirth(which also matches the poppy) fits the way that Sunny can only face the truth after Basil nearly kills him. They also symbolize enlightenment, which again aligns with how Basil/Martyn is the only character to know the truth other than Sunny himself.

Grian is the red zinnia because firstly, I wanted him to have a red flower, and secondly its symbolism matches pretty well. Familial love, of course, represents how Mari(Grian in this case) was not only Sunny's big sister, but also acted as a sisterly figure to the other kids. While they are tough flowers, they also symbolize remembrance, pointing towards the death of Mari/Grian. I probably could've kept everyone except Scott and Martyn's flowers the same, but I actually had a lot of fun looking into flower meanings and stuff(sorry if it's not al 100% accurate).

I was honestly surprised with how many parallels I was actually able to find here. This really started as a silly thing I played with in my head because I enjoy both of these medias, but the more I thought about it, the more I went "huh, that actually does make sense", so now here we are.

@easily-distracted-by-fandom , I hope you enjoy the ramble. I also hope that I find more people who know what the heck I'm talking about lmao

Edited in an attempt to make this easier to read instead of big blocks of text lmao