#but also the writing

[reignonmyempire]

I'm just??? So down bad? For your writing???

Handsy (Roman Reigns)

When the OTC asks for help and you oblige him, he’s very happy to return the favor. 

Pairing: Roman Reigns/Black fem OC

Warnings: Smut, fluff, possessiveness...the usual, lol

Word Count: 5.1k

A/N: This is the first of a number of "Possessive" one shots lined up. Hope you enjoy them. Looking forward to all your amazing feedback! 😁

Song inspos are below:

A work of art. You could stare at him all day.

Sure, you came off like a voyeur sometimes, but the view was too glorious to pass up. Observing (not stalking) him from his little designated space next to a couple of equipment crates in the bowels of the arena. Working with the wrestlers as Talent Assistant entailed long hours and not-so-glamorous moments, but it was all worth it simply because you got to see the Roman Reigns up close and personal.

You always had a front row seat to the occasion, being in charge of his itinerary, and that included his wardrobe. Bringing over his ring gear, new Bloodline merch or a tech fleece for him to wear before slinking away to allow him some privacy. Yet tonight was different as this was his first match back in months and you couldn’t help but hang back, keen to witness his majesty up front, keen to see him in action again.

Just see him.

“You gon’ stand there and watch me all night, pretty girl?”

The rumble of his deep voice startled you out of your daydream. The big man himself was inching towards you, his hair down and damp, his rippling muscles and the intricate tribal tattoos gleaming beneath the backstage lights. His black cargo pants were tucked into his red and black boots and he looked ready for war, the ensemble somehow magnifying the power of the man. The Adonis. The…god.

Shaking your head sharply, you fidgeted with your horn rimmed glasses as you struggled to regain your bearings. “I’m…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. Umm…are your gloves okay? I made sure to get the specs right.” It was almost suffocating to be in his presence at times.

“They’re fine.” His gaze bored into you, a knowing smirk tugging his lips as he put them on, the long digits of his fingers wiggling and teasing. You had to tear your eyes away as you imagined just what those fingers could do and where you wanted them...

You recalled the earlier days when he would address you only in passing, inquiring about an assignment or a quick update on something you were working on…the butterflies fluttering in your stomach whenever he spoke to you. Ever perceptive, Roman picked up on your nervousness and went out of his way to flirt with you while somehow maintaining the utmost professionalism. It was like he knew you were crushing on him and was rubbing it in your face. As familiarity grew, the tone of your interactions began to shift. Friendlier, lighter exchanges as you got used to him and his natural charisma. 

Then, the nicknames started trickling in. Pretty girl. Sweetheart. Beautiful. You could feel your walls—literally and figuratively—crumbling, and it always took an insurmountable effort to build them back up. His six-month hiatus was a reprieve of sorts as you tried to sort out your feelings for him in his absence. Yet, said absence made your heart grow fonder. You thought about him every day and you wondered, quite unwisely, if he thought about you too.

“Like what you see, baby girl?”

The new nickname forced you back down to earth, and it was then you saw he was now standing right in front of you. Bringing your gaze level with his broad, glistening chest. Fuck. “Umm...Sorry, what did you say?”

“I was asking if you could help me out with this.”

Glancing down at the hand he extended, your eyes widened. A bottle of baby oil was in his grasp. You raised your eyebrow, defying the terror that surged through you at the mere thought of putting your hands on his body. “Isn’t that the trainer’s job?” you asked as nonchalantly as possible.

“It is. But tonight, I prefer a more…gentle touch,” Roman suggested, chuckling at your wary expression. “You’re so innocent. It’s cute. But don’t worry, I won’t bite,” he winked.

He was enjoying this; enjoying the reaction he was evoking from you and taking pleasure in messing with your sanity. But your mama didn’t raise no punk bitch. You were strong. You could do this without spontaneously combusting.

Taking the bottle from him, you slowly applied some oil to your hands and rubbed your palms together to warm it up. Moving behind him, you started with his shoulders and with gentle pressure ran your hands along his neck, down his back, rubbing in rhythmic strokes along his spine. Your fingers gently massaged the honed, taut muscles, easing out any tension you could feel there. As you moved to his lower back, you winced when your hands accidentally slipped down his pants, grazing his backside. "Shit. I’m-I’m sorry," you rushed, grateful that he couldn’t see you.

"You’re fine. Keep goin’," he said with gritted teeth, his tone significantly deeper. Rougher. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, a nervous cough escaping your throat as you squeezed some more oil onto your palms. “Turn around,” you instructed him, your voice surprisingly steady despite your shot nerves. As your hands glided up his chest, you did your best to focus on your task and avoid any other mistake. You oiled up his arms and his abs, ignoring the tiny little sounds you could hear in the back of his throat, ignoring his burning gaze on you.

"Your hands are like magic, sweetheart," Roman murmured appreciatively, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. You felt your breath hitch as your fingers worked over the tension in his hard muscles, each touch leaving you more breathless than the last. Despite the storm of emotions building inside you, you managed to finish with steady hands.

“All done,” you said softly, stepping back to create some much-needed distance.

“You did great. Thanks.”

His praise made your heart swell with a mix of pride and something more dangerous. “You’re welcome,” you replied, your voice quieter as your gaze lingered on him. “Your tattoos are beautiful… your skin is beautiful.” The words tumbled out before you could stop them, emboldened by the intimacy of the moment.

Roman’s lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. “Kissed by the sun, I’ve been told. Though I wouldn’t mind being kissed by someone else…” His hand reached out, his thumb brushing lightly across your bottom lip, sending a jolt of electricity through you.

Your eyes fluttered shut at the gentle contact, your mind reeling. “Roman, we… we can’t,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, betraying the internal conflict raging within you.

“Why not?” His tone was calm but insistent, his dark eyes searching yours. “We both know there’s something here. I feel it, and I know you do too.”

You bit your lip, hesitating. If only it were that simple. “Because… we’re at work,” you replied, trying to summon a rational argument despite your racing heart. “We shouldn’t…fraternize. And…” You hesitated again, your voice faltering as the words hung in the air. “I might have a man…”

The rebuttal that accompanied his snicker was smooth as silk. “And he still won’t be a fraction of the man I am. Besides, I know for a fact that you don’t have a man.” His haughty stare remained on you. “One thing I always do, baby, is my research on things I’m interested in.”

Was there a counter for that? You weren't sure. And even if there was, it would have been hard to find with the way he was staring you down, his head cocked to the side, tongue darting salaciously over his bottom lip. Goodness…

“Let me return the favor,” he said.

Oh fuck. You played dumb. “What?” 

“I enjoyed your massage. A lot. It’s only fair I give you one too. Not here, though. After the show, somewhere more private. You got a ride to the next town?”

You shook your head. “Well, not yet, but I was going to ask Jade and Bianca if I could-”

“Scrap it. You’re coming with me,” he cut you off. “I got somewhere much more comfortable than some itty-bitty car.”

Jade never went in ‘itty-bitty cars’, but you were sure Roman wasn’t trying to hear it. The moment stretched out, a lifetime of tension and unsaid words. You’d been on his bus once, and not unaccompanied. This would be wayyyy different.

Roman closed the last of the space between you, and pulled you into his chest. Big and rock solid and tempting. All of him. Including the bulge that pressed against your lower belly that made you lightheaded. His hand came up to gently cradle the side of your face. 

“I’ll be good. I promise.” His thumb brushed your cheek, and you wanted to hate how your skin tingled beneath his touch, how easily your resolve crumbled. You really did.

But right now, there was nothing in the world that you wanted more.

“Okay…”

------------------------

Roman’s hands were a wonderful contradiction: strong yet surprisingly soft, their warmth matching the cozy temperature of his bedroom on the bus. The electricity of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you hated how easily you succumbed to it. You wanted to resent the ease with which he disarmed you, your body surrendering before your mind could catch up—but the truth was, you didn’t care. Not in this moment.

The soft glow of scented candles illuminated the space, their aroma blending with the soothing notes of Force MD’s 'Tender Love'. The old-school melody was a familiar comfort, a gentle background to the scene unfolding. Draped in nothing but your panties on his plush king bed, you felt utterly exposed yet oddly safe. Roman's promise to help you relax was fulfilled tenfold as his skilled hands worked magic with warm essential oils, massaging away every ounce of your tension.

You struggled to stay still as his hands ventured lower, his palms kneading the soft, plump skin of your butt with deliberate care. The sensation set your skin aflame, and despite your best efforts, a quiet, unbidden moan escaped your lips. He chuckled at this, his touch remaining gentle yet commanding as he boldly gripped both cheeks and wiggled them together. As he turned you on your back, your eyes met, the flicker of heat in his gaze unmistakable. For a brief moment, embarrassment threatened to creep in, but the desire surging through you washed it away.

Taking charge, you pulled his head down to brush your lips together—tentative at first, testing the waters, but quickly growing more certain. The kiss deepened, melting away any hesitation that had lingered between you. His taste, the warmth of his lips, and the press of his oil-slicked hands against your skin were overwhelming.

As his fingers skimmed the underside of your breasts, a shiver ran through you. Instinctively, your hands found their way to his broad back, pulling him closer, earning a soft, breathy groan from him. The sound sent a thrill through you, a small grin playing on your lips. But the grin quickly dissolved into a moan as his mouth found your nipple, igniting sensations that left you breathless.

“So soft,” Roman murmured, his lips teasing the sensitive peak. The gentle suckles along with the firm kneading of your breast left you trembling in his confident grasp. He released your nipple with a wet, audible pop, trailing kisses down your body with a reverence that made you feel worshiped.

His fingers traced a path along your skin, their touch featherlight but insistent, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. When he reached your thighs, his mouth followed suit, pressing kisses to the tender flesh. You flinched when his teeth grazed the sensitive spot near your core, a teasing bite that made you gasp. Every nerve in your body hummed with anticipation, leaving no room for second-guessing. All that mattered was him, and the way his touch unraveled you so completely.

“Roman…”

“Hmm, baby? Should I stop?”

The mere thought of him bringing this divine pleasure to a halt brought tears to your eyes. “N-no.”

“I know you don’t want me to. It feels good.” Sitting back on his heels, he peeled your thong down your legs, tossing it into his open suitcase landing among his clothes. Something told you you would never get it back. “I’ve been waiting on this since I first laid eyes on you…I think about you a lot, ya know…”

You bit your lip, shaken by the electricity that crackled at his words, at the rush of this erotic moment. There was definitely no turning back now, and you could only look on as he wrapped his arms around your thighs and buried his face between them. A startled moan burst from you, clutching his hair to steady yourself as his tongue caressed your flesh. Long, fat and warm, it lashed around and around inside you, his lips pulling and sucking, the sloppy slurps filling the room with your gasps and moans pitching higher. 

“Oh, damn…” you whined, attempting to regain the upper hand in this trap you ensnared yourself in. “You said…you said you’d be good…”

Roman’s eyes flitted to yours, wide with feigned innocence. “Oh, I’m not? Lemme try this then…”

By the time you realized what he was talking about, you were too late. “Wait! That’s not what I mea-…Ohhhh!” He had spread your thighs wider, French-kissing your folds with those soft lips, his expansive mouth widening to lick you all up. His head moved up and down, his strong jaw working every inch and every crevice. Heat bloomed through your body, making your lower half squirm and twist from sensations you’d only read about in erotic novels. "Shit...." 

"You like that, baby? Like me eating this pretty ass pussy?" Roman hummed against your core, his voice knowing and arrogant. 

You would have given an articulate answer if you could think straight, but right now moans and whines and whimpers were the only languages you could speak. You felt your pussy pulse on his tongue as he made you feel high, your arms sprawled out on the bed as your orgasm and your body temperature climbed until you felt like you were overdosing from pleasure. 

“You taste incredible, baby. I want you to come in my mouth.” 

His commanding voice, his moans against your pussy, the rapid speed of his licks, had your eyes watering. Your body couldn't control itself as it detonated, releasing inside his mouth, his triumphant moan vibrating against the sensitive bundle of nerves causing you to groan out loud again as he caught your nut effortlessly with long, lazy laps of his tongue, licking you up until you were all emptied out. 

"Oh my god..." you gasped, your eyelids fluttering from the shock of such a powerful climax. "You made me come so hard," you breathed, collapsing on the pillow.

Releasing your thighs, Roman wiped his mouth, his chest glazed with oil and beard gleaming with your juices. “Pretty pussy that tastes this good? I’m in trouble, baby,” he sighed happily, like he’d just feasted on the most delicious gourmet meal.

You could feel the tension kick into high gear, knowing full well what was coming next. You shifted nervously, your hands fidgeting with the edge of the blanket.

Ever attentive, Roman noticed your change in demeanor. "You good?" he asked, his voice low and soothing, searching your eyes with a tenderness that made your chest tighten.

You hesitated, your gaze flickering away to avoid the weight of his. "Sorry I'm just...a little nervous," you admitted.

His head tilted curiously as he gave you a long, pensive look, a hint of amusement in them. “You’re not a virgin, are you?”

“No.” Your cheeks burned, yet, feeling obligated to elaborate, you pressed on. “But…I’ve only ever done it once. In college. It was…alright.” The less said about that, the better. He definitely didn’t make her come this hard with just his mouth.

Roman’s brow lifted slightly, his smile morphing into something wicked and possessive. “Once? Only once?” He kissed his teeth, the sound reverberating through your body. His hand slid up your thigh, fingers tracing lazy circles on your over-sensitized skin as he reached inside the bedside drawer. “Baby girl, I’m ‘bout to ruin you for anyone else.”

The confidence in his voice was intoxicating, and yet there was no arrogance - just a fact that he could and would do exactly what he said he could do. You couldn’t take your eyes off him as he tossed the condom on the bed in front of him, eyes widening as he slowly shed his boxers like it was some kind of grand unveiling, and boy, was it a spectacle. 

You gasped softly when you finally saw him, too long and too thick, rising menacingly from a neatly trimmed nest of dark silky curls. “I…oh my…”

Roman chuckled darkly at your stunned expression, rolling the Trojan down his length. "Don't panic, baby girl. I'ma make it all fit."

His mouth found yours again as his hands slung your thighs around his waist. The movement brushed his wide thick tip against your core, and your head tilted back as he nuzzled the groove of your neck, placing a wet kiss there.

“Roman,” you gasped, trying to summon some kind of resistance. But he silenced you again with another kiss, his voice low and commanding.

“Stop overthinking, I can feel you tensing up,” he murmured, “Just feel me. Feel us.”

And you did. His touch, his kiss, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world—it consumed you.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, his voice rough with desire.

You nodded, breathless.

“Then stop worrying,” he said, “Because right now, I’m only thinking about one thing. You. And how good you feel.” He shifted closer, slowly pushing his thick dick inside you. His arms and chest flexed around you, the tendons and muscles rippling and dancing as you reflexively lifted your hips against his, sliding him deeper into you, the initial discomfort of his thick length gradually easing away.

“Shiiit…” 

“I got you,” he assured you, hissing at the feel of your pussy fluttering around his length as it reached your hilt. “Damn, baby, you sure you’re not a virgin?”

“No…you’re just…big,” you pointed out matter-of-factly.

He smiled wide at that, and then moved in earnest, hitting hard and deep, his sheer power and his pulsing heat ramping up the pleasure ravaging your body and compelling you to hide your face in his shoulder to muffle your moans. 

“I know, baby, I know,” he whispered soothingly, kissing you softly, growling in your ear, “I can feel you, all tight and dripping. Fuckin’ incredible.” Grabbing your right leg and hooking it over his shoulder, he powered deeper inside of you, glancing down at his long, thick shaft spreading you wide. You had a clear view of that big-ass dick plunging into you, making you feel every single inch. Each time he slid in deep, your pussy made this crude, squelching sound while squeezing him, causing your head to rock back into the pillow with a loud moan. “Aww, fuck, Roman…” 

Roman’s hand found your chin and steered your face back to him, his sturdy grip enough to make your heart pound in tune with his pounding strokes. “You’re mine now,” he murmured, kissing you again, whispering against your mouth, “Anytime I want it, anywhere, you give it to me, you understand me?”

“Yes,” you managed, drunk on the myriad of sensations he was literally fucking into you. It hurt too good, maybe too much, his big dick seemingly rearranging your insides, forcing you to push at his abs to make him slow down. But Roman wasn’t having it, gently grabbing your neck to pin you down, fucking his dick into you until tears sprang to your eyes. He turned your body sideways, trapping your lower leg between both of his and holding the other one down before burying himself back inside your heat. Slipping inside you was much easier now, that pussy was leaking. Gleefully, he watched your ass cheeks ripple against his strong pelvis every time it smacked against you, the sounds of your wet pussy permeating the air. 

“I wanna feel you nut on this dick…let go, baby, come for me,” Roman said, his voice a command and a plea in one sexy package.

“Unnnh my god…” Your eyes rolled in the back of your head feeling him switch it up by winding his hips, his dick in the back of your pussy, dragging throaty, high-pitched noises out of you. Waves of sinful, primal heat bloomed into an explosion that had you cursing to the heavens and shaking beneath him. You never knew you could experience such indescribable ecstasy. This was Heaven, it had to be, to feel this euphoric, this rapturous. Or maybe it was just Roman Reigns and the magic he clearly possessed, plunging you headlong under his spell. 

Roman watched you undulate with a cocky, borderline evil smile, licking his lips as he reached for your breast, squeezing and kneading in his palm. "Mmm, that’s my good girl, you look so beautiful, baby…So fuckin’ good." He didn't stop, didn't slow down, clutching handfuls of your soft ass as he stroked in and out of you with increasing aggression. “Gimme another one, baby, come on,” he ordered, smacking your ass, a husky groan and curse emitting from him as right on cue, your walls clamped around him yet again, as you squealed and shook and squirted on his dick, gushing all over his sheets. 

“That’s it, that’s exactly what I wanted…” He bit his bottom lip, his hands braced on your thigh and ass like an anchor as he felt his control start to slip. “Fuck…Where you want my cum, babe? In you or on you?”

You clung to the pillow for dear life, moaning weakly as his thrusts became messier and choppier, making it difficult to think straight. “On…on me,” you whimpered.

Your pussy throbbed and quivered around his dick, the sensory assault shattering the OTC into a thousand shards. Guttural groans spilled from his lips as he pulled out with a harsh grunt, ripping the condom off. You shivered as you watched him stroke endless ropes of his seed on your ass, the milkiness contrasting almost beautifully with your rich melanin skin. The sight should probably have repelled you, but never have you been more turned on. Roman kept his pulsing member pinned between your bodies as he dipped down to kiss you, your heavy breaths evening out as you lapped and sucked on each other’s mouths.

“Hol’ on, let me rub my cum all over you,” he said, pulling back to let his large hands smear his sticky mess all over your ass cheeks, massaging you just like he did earlier. The care and gentleness in his caresses mixed with the nastiness of the act was shockingly arousing to you.

“Mm-hmm. Witcho sexy ass,” he smiled at his handiwork and finished with a light smack of your ass. He lay down beside you and gathered you in his arms, his body warm and solid against yours. 

“You okay?” His voice was a soothing rumble, a contrast to the intensity of moments before. "Was it too much?"

“Not at all. It was...amazing,” you admitted, your head resting on his chest as his heartbeat thudded steadily against your ear. “This feels really nice.”

He tilted his head, gazing down at you. “What does?”

“You, holding me like this.” Your voice was soft, almost shy. “You're cuddlier than you look.” The words spilled out before you could stop them, and you quickly glanced up, worried he might take them the wrong way.

But instead, his lips curved into a small, teasing smile, and he kissed your forehead tenderly. “Cuddly, huh?” His hand brushed over your back, grounding and protective. “Guess I’ll take that.”

Your cheeks warmed, but before you could reply, his voice dropped, rich and husky, sending a shiver through you. “Get some sleep, baby. I ain’t done with you yet.” His lips pressed to yours as he added, his tone full of wicked promise, “I’m gonna wake your pretty ass up and fuck you all over again.”

------------------------

It was probably the quietest you’d ever gotten dressed up. Not wanting to risk making any noise, you skipped showering, intending to do so once you got to the arena. One quick peek into the bedroom showed Roman was still fast asleep. Good. All the better to make your escape.

Gathering your belongings, you crept to the front of the bus. The driver was kind enough to tell you the name of the town you were currently in. It was still a couple of hours to your destination, but you hoped to find a rental car service, or a bus, maybe a Lyft if you could. Anything to make sure you were out of Roman Reigns’ hair before he woke up and discarded you himself and acted like last night never happened.

It was going to be extremely difficult to forget though…to get over the feeling of his big, strong, talented hands on you, using your body all night, that skillful tongue of his that made your eyes water…his big ass di-…

Yeah. Your mental well-being and productivity levels advised strongly against dwelling on that part of him.

You also couldn’t deny how beautiful it all was. His care and attentiveness, making sure you were feeling as good as he was…The softness in his pretty eyes as he took you again and again…Okay, perhaps you were overthinking the emotions. Even you were not that naïve to believe you were the only woman he’d been intimate with on this bus, in that same bed. Said and done the same things to them. You were not that special. The last thing you wanted was to be embarrassed for looking for what wasn’t there, and, as you checked your watch for the time, for overstaying your welcome.

“Any particular reason you’re sneakin’ outta here?"

His deep voice cut through the stillness, sharp and commanding, freezing you mid-step. You spun around, your pulse skyrocketing as your eyes landed on him. Standing at the other end of the bus, he looked like something out of a dream—or maybe a very specific kind of nightmare. Broad shoulders. Sculpted chest. Marble-hewn muscles. That towel slung low on his hips, hinting at more than you dared to look at directly.

You swallowed hard, the words getting stuck in your throat before you managed, "I didn’t want things to be awkward."

"Awkward?" he repeated, advancing toward you like a predator closing in on its prey. "You think you can just walk away from me after the night we had and call it awkward?"

He loomed over you, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. The scent of him—faint cologne, sweat, and something undeniably masculine—wrapped around you, reigniting every memory of what had transpired hours earlier.

"I know what this was," you said, trying to sound confident even as your voice wavered. "It was just a one-night stand. I’m not expecting anything else."

A grin spread across his face, slow and taunting. "Is that what you think?" The towel shifted slightly as he leaned closer. "You’re mine now, baby girl. I made that real clear last night. Or did I not do enough to convince you?"

Your breath hitched as heat crawled up your neck. He wasn’t just talking about his words. No, your body still remembered every way he’d claimed you, left you gasping and begging and sore down there. And now here he was, making it clear he wasn’t letting you go so easily.

"I—I thought..." you stammered, your bravado faltering under his intense gaze.

"Thought what? That I don’t mean what I say?" His hand slid to your waist, the warmth of his palm seeping through your thin shirt. "Baby, when I say you’re mine, I mean that shit. When I want something, I get it. And I want you."

Your heart stuttered at the unexpected softness in his voice. This was Roman Reigns, the stoic, untouchable force of nature you worked for. And yet, here he was, looking at you as though you were the most important thing in the world. You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to hide the way your fingers trembled. 

“Roman, I can’t—I can’t lose this job,” you reached for another excuse. “I worked too hard to get here. People already talk, and now this? It’ll only make things worse.”

Your verbal monologue was stopped by his hand cupping your chin, tilting your face so you had no choice but to meet his eyes. They burned with a quiet intensity, unshakable.

“Sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and steady, the kind of tone that silenced crowds in an instant. “I’m the face of WWE. You think anyone will come for you without dealing with me first? You think I’d let them? That’s not how this works.” He cupped your cheek, the gesture soothing, even as his words made your pulse race. “I protect what’s mine. Always.”

Your breath hitched, the conviction in his voice making it impossible to look away. Still, doubt clawed at you. “But what if—”

“No ‘what ifs’,” he interrupted firmly, but not unkindly. “You’ve got nothing to prove to anyone. You’re here because you’re damn good at what you do. And as long as I’m breathing, no one’s touching you. Not for this. Not for anything.”

His words settled over you like a shield, equal parts infuriating and reassuring. You wanted to argue, to push back, but deep down, a part of you believed him. Trusted him. And maybe…maybe that scared you even more than the risk.

So, against all logic, against every instinct screaming at you to keep this professional, you felt yourself nodding. “Okay.”

"Good girl," he said, his smirk widening. "Now, let’s get one thing straight. You don’t walk away from me, ever. Got it?"

You nodded again, your voice failing you completely.

"Good," he said, his thumb grazing your bottom lip. "Now, there’s a nice little breakfast diner a couple blocks away that I’m gonna take you to after. But first, come shower with me. It seems I’ve got some things I need to remind you of."

And just like that, the suitcase you’d been clutching slipped from your grasp as Roman took your hand and led you toward the back of the bus—and toward a future you would never have seen coming in a million years...but you liked, anyway.

THE END

------------------------

So glad this is finally out. Took me nearly 2 years, lol.

How was it? The smut is a lot, I know 😬 But I often try to ensure there's a story behind it.

Please leave comments! I love comments 😁😙😊

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[almondpiglet]

ppl were drawing mikus from all over so heres habesha miku and her lil twin sibs rin and len!!

[acorviart]

not to sound like a boomer, but I need some people to learn how to write emails in a semi-professional (at the very least) format so you're not cold emailing a business/potential employer/any other stranger about formal matters in the exact same way you'd DM a close friend on instagram

the formality/language can loosen up in the email chain once you've established a rapport and you match the other person if they're being less formal, but please don't have the very first email you send a stranger be written in all lowercase ultra-casual sms slang with no greeting or signature and a billion emojis

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[gunpowdercarousel]

I don't need therapy I need rabid gay people freaking out in my inbox

[beepboopappreciation]

Is this anything

[crookedtines]

I finally took the time to photograph my vintage dip pen nib collection, and I need to share with you all how wonderful and diverse their designs are.

These two are my favorite. Just look at them! One of them is named Gorille and the other Mephisto, but to me they're little pumpkins.

And of course you gotta love the Pinocchio nib. You get to write with the nose of a tiny guy! Just not something you get to do anymore.

[rae-butter]

Honestly, I love it when characters relapse. When someone who’s gotten over their anger issues falls into a situation so out of their depth they fall back on their old habits. When someone who’s learned to open up becomes a recluse again in order to cope with something outside their control.

There’s just something so horrible, so toxic, about watching a character grow and then slip back into their old selves in order to cope, bc you know they still care, that they’re the same inside, but watching them hurt so hard they don’t know what else to do brings a sense of catharsis.

[nariarts]

Spent a ridiculous amount of time last night obsessively editing my hand written zines in Photoshop to take away any tiny blemishes so they were definitely readable.

Whatever. Understand or don't.

[falseficus]

everybody’s always on writing prompts like “what if there was a world where everyone had a timer ticking down to their death… but you met someone whose timer said infinity!” or “what if everyone had their cause of death tattooed across their forehead… but you met someone whose forehead said THE CREATURE!” Enough -

enough. stop with the shock value. there is no need to insert THE CREATURE; the benign concept of such a world is horrifying enough. not even in urgency, but just in banal, everyday interaction. imagine you meet someone and their timer says two years. not tomorrow, not urgently soon, but two years. enough to do quite a lot. they could fall in love in that time - could they get engaged? have a baby? you might otherwise get to know them, befriend them, but perhaps you opt not to, make a conscious choice not to invest in your own grief. what balancing act would every individual person have to participate in - I have ten years, is that long enough to be a good mother to children? is that long enough to secure a caretaker for my own mother? my wife will die a few months before me. my newborn’s timer reads nineteen years.

and cause of death. you interview for a job and emblazoned across the healthy, smiling face of the HR lady is MALNUTRITION. your country is prospering, safe, but every person you meet on the street from the babies to the old women read BOMB. BOMB. what kind of havoc would fate wreak on the world? what about the loss of privacy? how would that shape our notions of hope? idk man I think a lot of those ancient poems were right, and the fates are monsters. I’m interested by the framing of these ideas as trite horror tales when the premises themselves are so much more disturbing if simply taken to their logical ends

[demonicsuffrage]

8 year old freshly adopted Dick, throwing the moths and flies he caught on Patrol directly at Bruce's face: I got you dinner!

Bruce, who was just bombarded with insects: Chum?!

Dick, smiling cheerfully: Bats eat insects!

Bruce:

Dick: I just read it in a book

Bruce:

Bruce: Bats also eat fruits and nectar

Dick: So you're a fruity bat?

Bruce:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dick, throwing an apple at him the next day: Dinner!

Bruce:

[trekkerac]

Stanley's revival was a very sudden thing because no one wanted to check up on how the revival was going

[stealingpotatoes]

the illness post is still getting notes (???!! <3) and that means people are still telling me to get better soon, which is really nice but im gonna be too powerful if i get any better

[smoosie]

(Which arm, Viktor, huh ? Which one ??)

They were not a couple so, Jayce (who had a very bad day and just wanted to hug it out) proceeded to freak out, backed out of the lab and never mentioned it again but, Astral Viktor, that mf ? He'd be delighted to remind Jayce of that moment in time, of that missed call and watch him die from embarrassment and resentment over himself

(I'm glad they've never beaten the gay allegations and never will)

[vendetta06]

the world is getting so ugly and bleak and it’s hard not to feel so hopeless. but we have to remember that they want us to feel that way.

it reminds me of this quote by dan savage - “During the darkest days of the AIDS crisis we buried our friends in the morning, we protested in the afternoon, and we danced all night, and it was the dance that kept us in the fight because it was the dance we were fighting for.”

joy is resistance. it’s really scary times but we are all in this together.