#i know lana is going to be reckless

[lizparkcr]

Ooh goodie it's the lana-gets-powers episode

[witchywcmans]

NEEDY. | AKI HAYAKAWA

synopsis ━━ you were in need of a roommate, and aki hayakawa needed a place that wouldn't ask any questions. you went to work during the day, while aki worked late nights. you basically had the apartment to yourself. it was honestly a match made in heaven. but then, you just had to come home one day and catch your roommate in a precarious situation. (aki x f!reader.)

content warnings ━━ voyeurism (just a wee bit), sex-deprived aki 🫶, but also possessive + jealous aki, masturbation, dirty thoughts + wet dreams, fingering, praise, multiple orgasms, classic missionary, unprotected sex, creampie, mutual pining/confession, kinda au (we're not mentioning the gun devil arc), aki has lived to see 26 + reader being a similar age, some religious imagery. nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).

word count ━━ 5.1k

song inspiration ━━ dealer, lana del rey / friends, chase atlantic / double fantasy, the weeknd

author's note ━━ hi.....hello.........so this idea has been in my head for a little bit, and I realize roommate aus like this are simply not that original, but god dammit I just needed to get this out of my head. anyway, I lurrrrrv sex deprived aki. shout out to my friend hollis for screaming about this with me hehe 💓

The most words you had ever said to your roommate were on the day you interviewed him before he moved in. You immediately noticed that he was strange, but also shy and seemingly harmless. When you had asked why he needed to move in so quickly, he had said something along the lines of a “toxic environment” with his previous roommates: “Denji and Power are just too noisy and reckless. They’re four years younger than me. I need a place less chaotic.” You had been interested in getting to know more – you were curious, after all, about your potential roomie – but once he mentioned that you’d probably never see him because he worked nights, you were sold.

Aki Hayakawa was your new roommate.

He had never been more excited to finally get away from Denji and Power and the tumultuous mess they had turned his apartment into. He was older now; he needed something for himself, even if it was with a roommate. Being a Public Safety Devil Hunter, he needed a place that didn’t think twice about him, a roommate who didn’t ask questions. That’s what he liked about you: your place was on the right side of the city, and you looked at him like he was normal. The Fox Devil said you weren’t going to be good for him, but Aki tended to ignore them anyway.

You had helped him move into your second bedroom just a week later and he hardly said a word, except to ask you who had formerly occupied this space. You were hesitant to talk about it at first, but you cracked soon enough: “My old best friend lived in here. We had rented this place together, but we … aren’t exactly speaking anymore,” you admitted, setting a box down at his feet. “I came home from work one evening and found my boyfriend cheating on me with her. It had been going on for months, right under my nose.” You looked away when you felt your eyes start to sting with tears, sniffling them away. “Friends come and go, I guess. But I’m thankful you, at least, worked out to rent this space.”

“Well,” he sighed, opening up the box as you turned back to him. He smirked. “I promise I won’t sleep with your boyfriend.”

You had laughed, and what a pretty sound it was. After move-in day, Aki was true to his word that you almost never saw him. You worked a normal 9 to 5, while Aki … well, you had no idea what Aki did. You assumed he was a security guard or something with the hours he worked and how he was always wearing a suit and tie. He was working all the time, even weekends. Sometimes, you would catch him coming home as you were leaving for work, or on Sunday morning as you ate breakfast in the kitchen. He would be too tired to talk, simply waving at you before retiring to his room.

It was almost like living alone … except for notes he’d sometimes leave you on the stove or the bathroom. Or the weekend mornings, when he’d get you a coffee and leave it out for you before going to his room. Or the once-in-a-blue-moon nights when you’d stumble in the early hours of the morning after drinking in the city with some friends, standing out on the deck with Aki as he smoked a cigarette. Nights like those, you could’ve sworn Fate was trying to get you two to see each other, because you would be arriving home at just the right hour and Aki would be getting off work early. And you would find him on the deck in his suit and tie, cigarette hanging from his lips, hair pulled up in his classic topknot. He would find you leaning against the railing in nothing but a short dress, the glitter on your lids making your eyes sparkle even more, and – god, you were just so pretty.

After that night, he started dreaming about you. He dreamed about how your lips would feel against his, what it would be like to have you sleep next to him and rest your head on his chest. He was consumed by thoughts of you under him, how you tasted, the way you’d tremble if he kissed that sensitive part of your neck you told him about one late night on the deck. His need for you was insatiable. In his line of work, there wasn’t much time for dating, let alone sex. He hadn’t been thinking about it that much, especially when he’d been housing Denji and Power, but now … he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Naked. Underneath him. On top. God dammit, he’d have you any way you wanted.

It made him wish he had acted on his instincts that night on the deck: pushing you against the sliding door, his lips crashing onto yours, hiking your skirt up that just barely covered your thighs and using his non-dominant hand (the one that didn’t shake) to feel how wet you were. But alas, Aki Hayakawa was a gentleman. 

You two had been living together for a year. He hardly knew you, but also knew you like nobody else did. He knew how you took your coffee – black with two sugars. He knew the brand of toilet paper you liked. He knew that you liked to hang your coats in the closet on the right side. He knew you drooled in your sleep, and what TV shows made you laugh, and how much your water bill was each month.

He was acting out in ways that were unlike him. If he came home from work and saw you had a guy over, he made his presence known. When you were at the office, sometimes he would go to your room just to smell your perfume, and other times he would steal your panties. (He always gave them back, feeling too shameful. But he did keep one underneath his pillow.) Some nights, he would pretend to leave for work early and you would retire to your room for the night, and then he would hear the familiar sound of your vibrator and – fuck, he had to go to work hard. Again. 

You were taking up too much space in his head. He was becoming distracted at work, thinking about what you were doing during these late hours. Maybe the Fox Devil was right: you weren’t good for him.

But he wasn’t moving out any time soon.

It was a Thursday after work and you were completely exhausted. After attending endless meetings and having to argue with coworkers all day, you left work early and were grateful to have a night alone with some leftovers from the night before. You had completely forgotten Aki telling you earlier in the week that he had this Thursday and Friday off, your mind preoccupied with work responsibilities. Sighing as soon as you walked through the door, you set your bag down and shuffled out of your shoes. You shut the door softly, at peace with the silence. You didn’t even have the energy to get out of your work clothes; you simply padded your feet to the fridge, plucking your leftovers out. It was only when you reached up to the microwave that you noticed the apartment wasn’t as silent as you assumed.

Sounds emanated from another room.

You got on your tip-toes, not wanting to make much noise if there was an intruder, and felt for the pocket knife you always kept on your person. Passing by your bedroom first, you popped your head inside. Empty. Hadn’t been touched since you left this morning. The bathroom was next, and you held your breath as the sounds got even more noticeable. You peeked into the bathroom and … clear. Linen closet: clear. Coat closet: clear. But the sounds only became more clear as you got closer to the end of the hall, Aki’s room, and –

You stopped in front of Aki’s bedroom, the door cracked just enough that you didn’t need to pop your head in to see what was happening. Aki was home, for once, and you … you were watching him through the crack in the door. But how could you not? You knew where the sounds were coming from now, because Aki was the one making them.

His dark hair swept in front of his eyes as he sat back against his pillows. He wore a white t-shirt, while his boxers bagged around his ankles. Grunts slipped from his mouth – that pretty, pretty mouth you'd seen wrapped around a cigarette. And his hand … his hand wrapped around his cock, pumping furiously – desperately – with a pair of your panties enveloping the head. The same red lace panties you thought you’d lost months ago. 

You almost considered walking away, making noise in the kitchen so he would know you were home, but then –

Then, your name left his mouth in a whimper.

He was stroking himself even faster, muttering your name into the silent room with your panties wrapped so nicely around his cock. He was thinking about you, wanting so desperately cum in your panties, wondering if you thought about him when you used your vibrator. You were frozen in place, completely fixated on him as he leaned back against his headboard, his face finally exposed so you could see the way his jaw went slack, the way he moaned out your name. And – oh my god, you should leave –

But you couldn’t. And deep down, you knew there was a dirty part of you that always wanted to see this. Ever since that night on the deck, when you were wearing your favorite dress and all that glitter, and you noticed that he was looking at you in a way a platonic roommate definitely shouldn’t. You had started to think about him late nights when you were alone with your toy. You brought home dates, wanting him to see, giggling when you recognized his jealous expression. You tried to wake up earlier, just to see him when he stumbled through the door. Once, you even did his laundry to smell the nicotine on his jacket. 

The two of you simply couldn’t help yourselves.

And when you watched him finally reach his peak, spilling into your forgotten red lace panties, you realized just how wet the ones you were wearing had become. You watched him grunt as he came, breathing heavily and wiping the sweat off his brow. And when he muttered under his breath a soft, “Fuck,” you couldn’t help the short gasp that left your lips.

Aki stalled. Oh, shit. You hadn’t been quiet enough. He sat up more in his bed, pulling his boxers up, and you whipped your back against the wall. You cupped your hand over your mouth, praying he wouldn’t come out and see. But he was whispering, “Who’s there?” And you only had enough time to move ten feet down the hall before you heard the creak of his soles on the old floorboards.

“Fuck,” he muttered, louder this time.

Your back went straight, and after what felt like an eternity, you slowly turned to face him. “Aki,” you put your hands up in surrender, “I didn’t see anything –”

“Oh, what the fuck,” he shook his head at himself, quickly walking back into his bedroom. You were stunned, not knowing what to do, as he continued talking to himself in the room: “Stupid fucking idiot not closing the fucking door. What the fuck? What the fuck? My worst fucking nightmare. Fuck, why do these pants always get caught around my ankles? I need to get out of here. Stay at Denji’s for the night. Fuck, fuck, fuck –”

He emerged from his bedroom, now wearing jeans, his favorite Converse, and a leather jacket. He tried to pass you without looking, whispering obscenities under his breath, but then you were tugging on his jacket, lips pressed together.

Aki paused, cheeks red with both embarrassment and anger at himself, but you didn’t let go of his sleeve. He noticed the redness of your face as well, the black of your pupils almost covering your entire eye, and were you … were you aroused?

Swallowing hard, your voice was but a mere whisper when you asked, “How long have you had those?”

He knew what you were referring to. It didn’t take an idiot. Your stares were locked, and despite his shame, he wouldn’t turn away. “A while,” he mumbled.

“How long is ‘a while?’”

“Months, okay?” His eyes narrowed and his voice took on a new tone. “Now, can you let go of my jacket so I can leave and save us both the embarrassment –”

“Months,” you repeated, licking the corners of your lips. His eyes were made of blue fire as he stared down at you, and even with your office attire on, you felt utterly naked beneath his gaze. “I’ve … I’ve been thinking about you for months too.”

Aki took a moment to process your words, and your grip hesitantly released on his sleeve. But he wasn’t – he couldn’t – let you get away so easily. His breath was shaky as he placed both of his hands on the wall behind you, pinning you to it. So many times had you two passed each other in this hallway, so many words left unsaid. And now, he was pressing you against it.

“You’ve been thinking about me … for months,” he thought out loud, leaning in a little and nosing your hair. Your scent was intoxicating. That perfume … he could cum in his pants just from smelling it. “For months, you’ve been bringing guys to the apartment to … to what? Make me jealous?” He chuckled under his breath. It took him so long to put it together. “For months, you’ve been touching yourself right before I leave so I go to work fucking hard.” His nose traveled down to your neck, grazing that spot you told him about, and you shuddered. “You’ve been putting me through the wringer and I didn’t even have a clue.”

“You’re … you’re not so innocent.” You tried to keep yourself together, but it was difficult with him pinning you to the wall and – oh, he was already hard in his pants, pressing into you.  “You’ve been stealing my panties so you can masturbate with them.”

Aki hummed quietly, pressing his lips so delicately to your neck, as if his cock wasn’t completely strained in his jeans. “I supposed I have,” he whispered against your skin, “for months.”

“Since that night on the deck,” you croaked out, hands balling into fists as he licked a stripe up your neck. If he didn’t stop, you’d surely moan. “But I didn’t say anything – didn’t think about saying anything – because … because we’re roommates.”

“We are roommates,” he said, lifting his head from your neck, his lips hovering so close to yours. “And if we’re just stating facts here, I’ve needed to kiss you since that night.”

You didn’t wait for him. Immediately leaning in, your lips pressed onto his in a hungry kiss. His mouth molded to yours, and he tasted exactly like you thought: like black coffee, cigarettes, those raspberry pastries he always kept in the kitchen. His tongue, slipping into your mouth, tangled with yours in a way that you had only dreamed about. Your hands released from their fists, instead reaching up to twist in his t-shirt, bringing him even closer to you. He’d hardly touched you and you were completely, utterly soaked. 

As if hearing your thoughts, his lips broke from yours for just a moment to beg, “I need to touch you.”

“Please,” you whispered back, and his mouth was back on yours.

He dragged one hand down from the wall (his shaky hand, believe it or not), still pressing you against it, and worked on unzipping your trousers. You nuzzled your nose against his as he kissed you deeply, slipping his hand in your pants, past the waistband of your panties and – you were exactly as he dreamed you’d be. Absolutely wet. Just as needy for him as he was for you. “Fuck,” he muttered into the kiss, spreading your soaked folds with two long fingers. 

Your lips tore away from his, a trail of spit following, because you simply had to release the moan you’d been holding in for so long. Despite loving the way your mouth fitted against his, he was glad for it, wanting to see your face when he started rubbing your sensitive clit. And fuck, was it the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Your fists on his t-shirt went loose as your body felt like it was made of liquid, angling into his. Your lips pursed, soft whimpers filtering out as he rubbed you in those tight circles.

“So fucking wet f’me,” he mumbled, grazing his lips over yours. “Dreamed about this for months. Fuck, I’ve gotten hard just thinking about this pussy.”

He finally dipped a single finger inside you, and your hips immediately jerked against his hand. Aki let out a shuddering breath when he felt how much you were squeezing just one finger, pumping it in and out of you slowly. “Please,” you whispered, despite his thoughts, “I can take more. I promise.”

You didn’t need to ask him twice. He shoved two fingers inside you, curling them against that spot that had your hips instantly bucking. “Fuck, Aki,” you whined as he plunged those fingers in and out of you, using his thumb to rub your clit. 

“Yeah?” He breathed. 

“Kiss me.”

Aki moaned from your words alone, kissing you hard while fucking you with his long fingers. He was practically drunk on you: your scent wrapped around him, you tasted like citrus, and the way bucked into his hand … god, he needed to fuck you. So bad. And if you didn’t want that, then he needed to jerk himself off immediately or else he was going to explode in his pants. The last thing he needed was another embarrassing moment tonight.

It only took seconds to have you sighing into the kiss, squeezing his fingers like a vice as you came. His thumb on your clit was relentless, taking you over that lovely peak, as you mewled and cried into his mouth. It was almost religious, the way you moaned, and Aki had never felt closer to God than in this moment.

When the adrenaline subsided, he slowly removed his fingers from you and broke the kiss. You watched him intensely as he brought the fingers covered in your slick to his mouth, tasting you. Your lips fell open slightly, eyes going wide while his own closed, savoring the taste. What the actual fuck, you thought to yourself. How the fuck have we been living under the same roof and it took this long for me to see that?

Without missing a beat, you pushed yourself off the wall, winding your arms around his neck and latching your legs to his waist. He lifted you as if you were made of air, kissing you so that you could taste yourself. Before you could even perceive how much time had passed, you were on his bed, blouse disheveled and trousers undone. Even your hair hadn’t left the updo you put it in every weekday. Your eyes flickered to the right and you giggled to yourself. He had finally shut the door.

His eyes remained on you as he shrugged off his jacket, and then his pants. He was back in the same outfit you saw him in earlier, when your panties had been wrapped around his cock like a birthday present. He hesitated before finally pulling off his shirt, and you saw the scars lining parts of his chest. Definitely not a security guard, you thought to yourself but decided not to ask about it now. You reached up as he stood between your legs, brushing your fingers over the scars, and then dragged them down his abdomen. His frame was thin, but he was more built than you believed, always hiding himself under those oversized button-ups.

He wrapped his hand around your wrist as you touched him so gracefully. “Do you want to …?” His voice was so soft, the question hanging off the edge of his tongue.

And then, you smiled up at him, looking like an angel. “Yes, Aki,” you whispered.

He felt like a kid in a candy store. The only thing – the one person – he’d been dreaming about and looked at him as if he weren’t a machine, or a gun with the trigger pulled, was lying before him and liked him. For months, they’d both said. His dominant hand was shaking as he started unbuttoning your blouse, and when you noticed (though you had observed this the day he moved in), you grabbed his hand and placed it on your cheek. With his left hand and your right, you worked together to undo the buttons until your chest was exposed for him. 

Moonlight streamed through his bedroom, the only light source in a seemingly dark area.  City lights reflected on you as you pulled your hair free from the updo, those pretty strands fanning on his sheets. His sheets. Because you were in his bed. The blinking lights from corporate buildings outside your little apartment created a halo around your head and – fuck, you really were something religious. For so long, Aki thought only hell existed. I mean, all the Devils were here, contracted to them. But seeing you splayed out so heavenly for him on his bed, he knew then that Angels had to exist too. 

He took his time taking your pants off, watching the way you bit your lip when the cold air of his room hit your soaked panties. Your eyes glanced up to his boxers, seeing the indent of his long, thick cock, and your mouth went dry. His fingers hooked on the waistband of your panties, slowly dragging down and throwing them off to the side, hoping you’d forget about them so he could pocket another pair. With you exposed and bare on his bed, he really took a moment to admire you: the way your cheeks flushed, how the halo around your head flickered, the way your arousal seeped out of your pretty pussy and your nipples peaked. He just had to touch you; it would kill him if he didn’t. Leaning down, he began peppering kisses on your neck, your collarbone, before finally latching his lips around one of those sensitive nipples. Your breath stuttered at the sensation, and he used his left hand to palm your other breast, twisting the nipple between two fingers. You writhed under him, and he couldn’t help but grind his clothed cock against you, groaning and swirling his tongue around your nipple in tandem. Locking your legs around his waist, you held him to you so he was forced to keep grinding against you. It felt too good, and he wasn’t even inside you yet.

He tugged on your nipple and released it, breathing heavily as his eyes met yours. “If you don’t let me go, I’m definitely going to cum before I’m even inside you.”

“Poor Aki,” you giggled, letting your legs fall back on the bed. “Would that really be so bad?”

His eyes were burning into yours, serious as a heart attack. “I’ve been fucking my hand to the thought of you for what feels like forever,” he whispered, pressing a light kiss to the valley between your breasts. “I don’t want to ruin this moment.”

Aki moved up so that his lips were hovering over yours again, and he could really see the sparkle of your irises in the moonlight. You reached in between your bodies and gingerly massaged his bulge, feeling how much he’d already soaked his boxers with precum. “You couldn’t ruin anything even if you tried,” you replied, your voice light and airy. “I’m on the pill. I’m ready when you are.”

“Shit,” he groaned at your mention of being on the pill, trembling as you massaged him. This had to be another one of his dreams. Just the thought of being inside you without the barrier of a condom … he was so close to completely exploding. He didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve you, after all the hell he’d witnessed and brought forth into this world. But he couldn’t help himself. He needed to have you, roommates be damned.

He stood up, needing to get away from your gentle hand. You sat up a little to help him tug down his boxers, careful of that shaky hand of his, and his cock sprang free, dripping precum on the floor. Aki, ever the gentleman, laid you back down on his bed with ease, holding your stare as he spread your legs wide for him. He breathed, praying to whatever god placed you in front of him that he wouldn’t cum prematurely. He couldn't remember the last time he had sex, but he was so desperate for you that all he cared about was not tainting this moment, this dream. 

Aki grasped his cock, giving it a few hard pumps and grunting, before positioning himself at your entrance. You both seemed to hold your breath as he finally slid in, just an inch at first, and the two of you seemed to release that shaky, nervous breath. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned, burying himself further in your tight warmth, bracing his elbows beside your head. 

“Keep going,” you begged. “It’ll fit, Aki. Promise.”

You were going to kill him, he was sure of it. Aki had felt the way you squeezed his fingers, but it was nothing compared to pleasure of being inside you, feeling how tight you really were. So much better than his hand. Once he was fully seated inside you, he opened his eyes just to look into yours. Your lips pursed, legs wrapping around his waist once again, and you slowly nodded for him to continue. His cock twitched.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, sliding out of you before slamming back in. You cried out, carding your fingers in his hair, and he molded his face in the crook of your neck to muffle his own whimpers. You just felt so, so good – so good that he could cry. To think that his bed had once been so cold, so lonely, but now you were occupying the space, trembling underneath him as his cock slipped in and out of you. 

Your moans were like gospel. For so long, Aki had been used to loud noise: to Denji’s complaints, to Power’s shouting, to the Devils’ in his ear. But now, it was just you two on the altar of your apartment, silent except for your heavy breaths mingling and the sound of car horns outside. You were wet and slick like holy water, taking him so nicely despite his size, and god – it was like you were made for him and he was made for you. 

You tugged on his hair, needing him so badly even though he was already yours to begin with. He really would have you any way you wanted. All you had to do was ask.

Aki was already so close to release, but he needed you to cum with him. As he fucked into you harder, deeper, his cock curving against that spot that made your eyes roll back, he reached in between you two and found that swollen bundle of nerves in the apex of your thighs. “Aki,” you whined, tears pricking at your eyes as he rubbed your clit. He could die happily now that he heard your voice like that in his ear, knowing it was him that made it happen.

“Yes?” He said, breathless, placing sloppy kisses on your jaw. You clung to him, melting into him like ice cream on a hot summer’s day. “I’m so close. Are you close, angel?”

You whimpered at the nickname. “Almost.”

“Almost?” He fingers went a little faster. “Let’s get you there.”

As his two fingers rubbed tight, small circles on your clit, he angled his cock inside of you so that he could brush your G-spot with every thrust. You were now clutching onto him with all the strength you had left, entwining your body with his and feeling his muscles flex against your stomach. He was so deep now and you were so close and oh my god, Aki Hayakawa had you like putty in his hands.

And it was like he knew it without you even saying it. Because as your walls started to clench around him, he whispered into your ear. “Cum for me, angel. Please, please, need to cum with you.”

Your body convulsed, going tight around his cock as you came. Tears streamed down your cheeks and you called out his name, spurring him to fuck into you faster, reaching his own peak in the middle of yours. He groaned deep into your neck, hips stuttering as he spilled himself inside of you. You kept your legs around his waist, not wanting to miss a drop, and arched yourself against him, coming down from the high of your intense orgasm. Aki was still rubbing your clit slowly, whispering praises into your skin like, “Did so good me … So pretty … Could listen to you cum for hours.”

You two laid like that for a while, feeling his cock soften inside you, panting heavily against each other. Once he finally pulled out of you, your combined releases dripping down your thighs, you laid beside each other on his bed and stared at the ceiling. The silence was comforting, until he whispered, “Please, tell me that wasn’t all a dream.”

Turning your head, you smiled at him. “Do you feel this?” You pinched his arm.

Aki flinched. “Ow.”

“Definitely not a dream,” you chuckled.

[princessbrunette]

playlists for the readers … ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ³ ᵔ ꒱ྀིა

bunny!reader ♡

just girly fun vibes — she likes her music catchy, pop-y and fairly relatable. rafe never lets her play her music in the car unfortunately, because he cannot be seen speeding down the road blasting the pussy cat dolls.

🎀 cassie — ditto

🎀 kali uchis, steve lacy, vince staples — only girl

🎀 frank ocean — sweet life

🎀 coco & clair — pretty

🎀 sabrina carpenter — feather

🎀 flo milli — never lose me

🎀 cassie — miss your touch

🎀 childish gambino, jhené aiko — pink toes

🎀 flo.rida, wynter — sugar

🎀 kali uchis — honey baby (SPOILED!)

🎀 angels — my boyfriends back

🎀 foxy brown, kelis — candy

🎀 lana del rey — music to watch boys to

🎀 jhené aiko — maniac

🎀 fergie — clumsy

🎀 ciara, 50 cent — can’t leave ‘em alone

🎀 shelley duvall — he needs me

🎀 nancy sinatra — sugar town

🎀 heidi montag — i’ll do it

🎀 nicki minaj, jeremiah — favourite

🎀 kali uchis — melting

🎀 lady gaga — boys boys boys

🎀 cassie — long way 2 go

🎀 the pussycat dolls — when i grow up

🎀 tom tom club — genius of love

🎀 beyoncé — freakum dress

🎀 gwen stefani — bubble pop electric

🎀 marina — primadonna girl

🎀 madonna — material girl

🎀 pussy cat dolls — stickwitu

🎀 leven kali, syd — do u wrong

🎀 kiana ledé — mad at me

kitty!reader ♡

listens to her music to feel cool n edgy. shes one of those people that think she’s a bitch but she’s not at all, just a lil grumpy. wants everyone to know she liked deftones before it was cool.

🐈‍⬛ pixies — is she weird

🐈‍⬛ arctic monkeys — mardy bum

🐈‍⬛ black box recorder — child psychology

🐈‍⬛ the smiths — pretty girls make graves

🐈‍⬛ ethel cain — crush

🐈‍⬛ mazzy star — she’s my baby

🐈‍⬛ radiohead — creep

🐈‍⬛ chris isaak — wicked game

🐈‍⬛ limp bizkit — rollin’

🐈‍⬛ the pretty reckless — makes me wanna die

🐈‍⬛ pearly drops — bloom for me

🐈‍⬛ deftones — root

🐈‍⬛ fka twigs — two weeks

🐈‍⬛ deftones — romantic dreams

🐈‍⬛ hole — doll parts

🐈‍⬛ margeaux — hot faced

🐈‍⬛ siouxsie and the banshees — she’s a carnival

🐈‍⬛ kip tyler — she’s my witch

🐈‍⬛ deftones — mascara

🐈‍⬛ soho dolls — bang bang bang bang

🐈‍⬛ enigma — sadeness

🐈‍⬛ DANGERDOOM, MF DOOM — perfect hair

🐈‍⬛ radiohead — idioteque

🐈‍⬛ björk — come to me

🐈‍⬛ the nbhd — fallen star

🐈‍⬛ arctic monkeys — crying lightening

🐈‍⬛ deftones — diamond eyes

🐈‍⬛ the smiths — girl afraid

🐈‍⬛ ethel cain — unpunishable

🐈‍⬛ mitski — townie

🐈‍⬛ gorillaz — kids with guns

🐈‍⬛ evanescence — taking over me

deer!reader ♡

she’d say her playlists are all over the place — but it’s organised mess. she has them perfectly collated and in her head they make perfect sense. don’t put her on the aux though, not because the songs aren’t good but because the vibes are all over the place.

🍪 shura — 2shy

🍪 minnie riperton — les fleurs

🍪 april march — chick habit

🍪 benee — kool

🍪 camille saint- saëns — … le cygne

🍪 the little dippers — forever

🍪 allie x, mitski — susie save your love

🍪 she & him — why do you let me stay here?

🍪 lesley gore — i’m coolin’ no foolin’

🍪 sza — prom

🍪 the penguins — earth angel

🍪 SALES — renee

🍪 cleo sol — sunshine

🍪 japanese breakfast — be sweet

🍪 kate bush — cloud busting

🍪 mazzy star — halah

🍪 the mamas & papas — dedicated to the one i love

🍪 scissors sisters — filthy / gorgeous

🍪 fiona apples — shameika

🍪 fleetwood mac — mystified

🍪 margo guryan — under my umbrella

🍪 erykah badu — apple tree

🍪 mort garson — plantasia

🍪 sza — sweet november

🍪 quadron — sea salt

🍪 corinne bailey rae — green aphrodisiac

🍪 sade — lovers rock

🍪 ella fitzgerald — moonlight serenade

🍪 cigarettes after sex — truly

🍪 tv girl — heaven is a bedroom

🍪 the velvet underground — femme fetale

🍪 clairo, coco & clair — racecar

🍪 james blake, rosalía — barefoot in the park

🍪 tame impala — nangs

puppy!reader ♡

never seen without her walkman — loves running around and dancing to her upbeat music. her playlists will remind you of days in the sun and dancing in summer rain.

🐶 her’s — love on the line (call now)

🐶 HAIM — summer girl

🐶 the la’s — there she goes

🐶 stacey q — two of hearts

🐶 faye webster — right side of my neck

🐶 bakar, summer walker — hell n back

🐶 beabadoobee — sunny day

🐶 dominic fike — babydoll

🐶 jungle — back on 74

🐶 pinkpanthress — attracted to you

🐶 duran duran — girls on film

🐶 shuggie otis — strawberry letter 23

🐶 sixpence none the richer — kiss me

🐶 matilda mann — bloom

🐶 HAIM — falling

🐶 311 — amber

🐶 earth, wind & fire — boogie wonderland

🐶 lorde — ribs

🐶 lesley gore — sunshine lollipops and rainbows

🐶 stevie wonder — all i do

🐶 the human league — don’t you want me

🐶 the turtles — happy together

🐶 pet shop boys — west end girls

🐶 clairo — bags

🐶 pat benetar — love is a battlefield

🐶 the psychedelic furs — love my way

🐶 scouting for girls — she’s so lovely

🐶 noisettes — wild young hearts

🐶 the all eyes i — beat goes on

🐶 tame impala — elephant

🐶 sublime — waiting for my ruca

🐶 mgmt — boogie down

[b0r3dtod3ath]

"Cause I <3 you, you’re the one that I adore :)"

Formula 1 masterlist

Word count: 1.4k

Summary: Assistant!reader x rdr!seb. Based on this request. Set during the 2012 season.

A/N: I know a few people wanted me to write this trope so here it is :) Also this fic is loosely inspired by BBM baby by Lana Del Rey.

“Yea, I still don’t understand why I need an assistant” Well this sentence certainly didn’t calm your anxiety as you were sitting on a chair, staring at the door. You were supposed to meet your boss, well not really a boss but a person you were supposed to help. He wasn’t just a random person, he was Sebastian Vettel, two-time world champion in Formula 1. You were a fan of this sport so when an opportunity for you to work in that field appeared, you took it without thinking twice. Maybe you weren’t one of the most important employees on the paddock nonetheless you still got to travel the world and be a part of every race week. “Sebastian, you were late for the last three meetings. I can’t be looking after you all the time.” a female voice said. You recognized it - it was Sebastian’s press officer. She was a lovely lady. You got to meet her because she was the one recruiting you. “So you are really getting me a babysitter?” huffed the driver. The door in front of you opened causing you to jump from your seat and put on a smile. “Hi! Nice to see you again! Come on in!” said the lady. As you walked in a tall, blonde boy sat up and introduced himself “Sebastian Vettel. You can call me Seb. Nice to meet you.” The eye contact made your cheeks heat up a little “Y/N Y/L/N, pleasure working with you”. As you sat down you heard Sebastian whisper a quiet “It sure is” under his nose.

You came up with the idea of a maximum of 10-minute long meetings after breakfast during the race weekend. They were meant for you to give Seb a quick overview for the day - what is he doing at what time. You were sitting at the hotel’s restaurant, waiting for him to show up, you didn’t expect him to show up on time but he barely managed to. “Hi, sorry. I hope you didn’t wait long” he said as he sat opposite to you. “Good morning, I’m fine, you are on time actually” you greeted him with a smile, chuckling at his messy bed hair. “So today you are supposed to first meet your physiotherapist and then” you were interrupted by sniffling. Probably a morning runny nose. You grabbed your small purse and handed a tissue to the man. “Thank you” he said, surprised that you noticed. “So then you have a first practice session at 1PM and..” - you quickly went over what was planned for the day “Alright, any questions? If you really want to move some meetings then let me know and I will try to figure out something. I’m leaving this paper for you to know what’s going on and I think that’s it.” you handed him a post-it note with everything neatly written. Cute writing he thought as he looked at it "There's also my number if you need something and I happen not to be around”. Oh yea, he was definitely gonna use this one. 

After a few races, you started developing a more casual relationship - it could even be called a friendship. The chemistry never left working hours. You didn’t understand why but it bothered you. Well, you noticed some signals - butterflies in your stomach appearing when you two held eye contact for more than a second, your heart skipping a beat when you accidentally touch or the heat rising to your cheeks every time he calls you by your nickname. You were a walking symptom of having a crush and yet you denied it. “I’m working for him, of course, we have to be nice to each other! He’s like that to every female reporter, a cheeky little bastard.” or “It’s his job to treat me nice.” you used to tell your friend on a phone, whispering as if Sebastian was to hear you. Little did you know, he has in fact changed his behavior towards women once you appeared in his life, he started being less flirty and reckless but not in terms of you. He would never tell you to do anything for him because it felt weird to him. At first, you were looking after him like he was a child - checking in if he was hungry or if he needed water. He never complained about being looked after because he found it comforting. He felt like you were truly caring for him, a feeling that he hadn’t felt in years due to his lifestyle. 

You would never call him unless he was late. Sebastian was in his hotel room, sprawled out on the bed, head with messy blonde hair buried in pillows. His peaceful sleep was interrupted by the sound of his ringtone. “Huh?” his eyes still closed “Seb, you were supposed to text me when you wake up so you won’t be late again. Please tell me you got up” your voice was a sound he wished to wake up for the rest of his life “Mrrh Dreaming? An angel called me?” he said half awake completely ignoring your tone “Great, amazing even. Vettel, wake up. I’m gonna come to your room in 10 minutes and please cooperate”. Even though you were the same age you sometimes felt like you were babysitting him. Sebastian obeyed you and got dressed. He liked to annoy you a bit but he would be cautious not to cause you too much trouble. You knocked on his door not expecting him to be ready. To your surprise, you were greeted by a fully dressed Sebastian holding his toothbrush. He gestured to you to come in. You have never been to his hotel room so it a bit personal. You stood in the middle of the room not knowing what to do. Your eyes wandered around the room which looked more neat than you expected - no clothes laying around and only his phone and a half-empty water bottle on his nightstand but the bed looked like a mess and you couldn’t judge him, after all he did wake up less than ten minutes before. The bathroom door was opened so you were able to observe him brushing his teeth. It was a thing he did everyday (even more than once!) yet it felt almost intimate. “Okay, let’s go” he said with a big smile once he finished and held the door for you. You were heading for a team meeting that you were also a part of. Your role there was to take notes that were handed to the driver later. Sebastian couldn’t take his eyes off you, sitting next to him as you wrote something important that he didn’t even hear. He loved to watch you in this state where you were so focused you barely paid attention to anything else. He loved the way you would tuck your hair behind your ear or play with a pen anytime there was something not worth writing down discussed. When the meeting was over you handed him the paper, he didn’t even look at it but the thing that caught his attention was your dress. It wasn’t revealing or stereotypically sexy - little flowers on a navy background, short sleeves and knee length just suited your personality in his mind. “Nice dress” he said, catching you off guard as you were saying your goodbyes. This weekend Sebastian finished P1 getting closer and closer to his next world champion title.

Next weekend was the last weekend before the summer break. Even though you had lost your hope in terms of your emotions towards Sebastian there was a little part of you that still wished that he would make some kind of a move. It was Saturday night, you had already showered and got yourself ready to bed. You heard a notification and looked at the screen of your phone. “I’m outside your door. Wanna talk to you. XOXO, Seb :)”. He himself didn’t know why he ended the text like that. He was just nervous and high on adrenaline. The message was followed by three gentle knocks on your door. You let Sebastian in and before you could say anything he grabbed your hands and said “I, I I think I love you. For the past few months you had been my sunshine. You make me happier. I adore everything about you, every single little detail. Please make me an even happier man and let me take you out for dinner. And wear that dress you wore last week."

[bagelbun333]

The death penalty in Ace Attorney | The fandom’s biggest misconception

Capital punishment is something we all know is a real consequence when it comes to murder in Ace Attorney, but do all culprits who commit these crimes actually get the death penalty? That’s what I’m going to go through in depth within this post!

CW and TW: mentions of death, execution, murder, suicide etc.

Also major spoilers for basically all the mainline ace attorney games!

To start off with, what exactly warrants a death penalty in Japanifornia? Murder has been referred to as a capital crime that deserves a capital punishment, which in turn led people to believe that all murder convicts get the death sentence. However, there is a slight mistranslation within that statement and it should say “murder is a charge that risks the death penalty.” “Risk” is the keyword here. While yes, it is possible murder charges can warrant the death penalty, that doesn’t mean every culprit will get executed. Like, this isn’t Danganronpa 😭 What people don’t think about is the different kinds of murder charges there are, and the differences in sentencing this can create.

Murder charges can go from:

1st Degree Murder - Premeditated/long time planning

2nd Degree Murder - Not premeditated but the intent is there within the moment/deliberate killing

3rd Degree Murder - Deliberate reckless behaviour resulting in death

Aggravated Murder - Murder when an aggravating circumstance is proven (such as kidnapping or torture)

Voluntary Manslaughter - Intention to kill but is not guilty of murder due to provocation or mental incapacity

Involuntary Manslaughter - Killing without intention within the heat of the moment

Self Defence - Killing for defence of oneself

Consensual Homicide - Assisting a suicide

Attempted Murder - Planning and failing to kill

In Japan (the country this series is initially based on) these charges have different kinds of sentences depending on circumstances. So naturally, Japanifornia must have punishments very similar to this. These are the sentences for these crimes in Japan according to my research:

1st Degree - 5 years to life imprisonment

2nd Degree - 5 years to life imprisonment

3rd Degree - 3 to 5 years imprisonment

Aggravated Murder - Death penalty or life imprisonment

Voluntary Manslaughter - 1 to 15 years imprisonment

Involuntary Manslaughter - 1 to 15 years imprisonment

Consensual Homicide - 6 months to 7 years imprisonment

Self Defence - No imprisonment

Attempted Murder - 5 years to life imprisonment

Death penalties are usually passed in cases of multiple murders, although there are exceptions where individuals have committed a single murder that have been executed because it involved torture, extreme brutality or kidnapping with a demand for ransom. It is punishable by five years to life in prison, and with the death penalty if aggravating circumstances are proven. The only exception is for juvenile offenders since the minimum age for capital punishment in Japan is 18.

With this, we can work out what kinds of charges each of the ace attorney culprits will be given. (Mostly for the Phoenix Wright trilogy since I can’t recall much beyond aa4.)

(For clarification’s sake: a “/” is used when a crime could be one or the other or both, while the “,” is used to separate different crimes.)

Frank Sahwit: 2nd Degree Murder

Redd White: 1st Degree Murder

April May: 1st Degree Murder (Accomplice)

Dee Vasquez: Self Defence/Voluntary Manslaughter

Yanni Yogi: 1st Degree Murder

Manfred von Karma: 2nd Degree Murder, 1st Degree Murder (accomplice, planned out)

Joe Darke: Serial Murders (technically spree murder, guilty on five counts)

Damon Gant: 1st Degree Murder, 2nd Degree Murder (Serial Murders)

Lana Skye: 1st Degree Murder, 2nd Degree Murder (Unwilling Accomplice in both)

Richard Wellington: 2nd Degree Murder/Involuntary Manslaughter

Mimi Miney: 1st Degree Murder

Morgan Fey: 1st Degree Murder, Attempted Murder (Accomplice in both, planned out the crime)

Acro: Attempted Murder, Involuntary Manslaughter

Matt Engarde: 1st Degree Murder (Hired a hitman), Consensual Homicide (driven a woman to kill herself)

Dahlia Hawthorne: 1st Degree Murder, Consensual Homicide, 3 counts of Attempted Murder, and 2nd Degree Murder (Serial Murders)

Luke Atmey: 1st Degree Murder

Furio Tigre: Either 1st or 2nd Degree Murder

Godot: Voluntary Manslaughter/Self Defence (defending someone else)

Iris: Voluntary Manslaughter (accomplice)

Kristoph Gavin: 2 counts of 1st Degree Murder, Attempted Murder (Serial Murders)

Those who canonically got the death penalty:

- Joe Darke

- Dahlia Hawthorne

- Terry Fawles

- Simon Blackquill

Those who canonically got the death penalty but didn’t get executed:

- Terry Fawles (he died anyway rip)

- Simon Blackquill

Those who are most likely to get the death penalty but never canonically stated:

- Manfred von Karma (not explicitly stated but heavily implied)

- Damon Gant

- Matt Engarde

- Morgan Fey (vaguely implied)

- Kristoph Gavin

- The Phantom

Those who don’t get the death penalty:

- Frank Sahwit

- Redd White (he would if his blackmail victims got leaked)

- April May

- Dee Vasquez

- Yanni Yogi

- Lana Skye

- Richard Wellington (could be a chance that he would considering his victim was a police officer)

- Mimi Miney (unsure considering her accomplice is implied to be on death row)

- Acro

- Luke Atmey

- Furio Tigre

- Godot

- Iris

To recap, the death penalty in Japanifornia is reserved for the criminals with absolutely no hope for rehabilitation, and for those who have aggravated murder charges/serial murder charges. Even people like Redd White will not receive the death penalty.

After all, Redd White did plead guilty to Mia’s murder specifically because getting arrested for one murder would be safer than having his list of blackmail victims get leaked to the press. It would be strange to confess for his own safety if he was just going to get executed anyway.

In the later games it is shown that the law is changing, and the death penalty is even less involved when culprits are convicted of murder. (Not counting charges in Khura’in, that’s different.) So it is very possible that the punishments can change overtime for those who were already convicted; meaning there’s a chance that they can be given a lighter sentence later on. There’s even a culprit in aa5 who was planning a murder but ended up killing someone else accidentally, and they were released from prison mere months after the trial. If they can released for that then surely a lot of the other culprits deserve the same treatment.

Speaking of Khura’in, that is actually more of a parody of what the fandom thought Japanifornia’s death penalty worked like. Even then, after the ending aa6, it looks like that judicial system will change for the better too.

And that’s pretty much it! The reason I wanted to go through this topic is because the whole murder = death penalty ideology is taken way out of proportion, and has been treated as a fact for far too long when it’s actually not completely true. This is just what I’ve managed to research and you can feel free to believe it or not, but I really wanted to share a new perspective on this subject. I, for one, wanted to share some hope for people; especially because I know a lot of these culprits have a lot of fans, and they deserve to have a brighter perspective on these characters. I definitely want some of these characters to return and this research really helped me feel confident that some of them have the potential to make a comeback.

Plus with the HD release of, not only the Apollo trilogy, but the Edgeworth collection in the same year, it’s more than likely that aa7 will bring back old characters! The reason a lot of these old characters didn’t make a reappearance sooner is because Capcom stood by this “no spoiler” rule for the players who may have missed out on certain games in this series. But now that we have all the mainline games in the series getting a HD release on all modern platforms, this “no spoiler” rule will most likely not be necessary anymore!

No more of this “if they’re guilty they’re never coming back” bs, let’s be more hopeful! It’s actually less likely that all culprits would get executed than the majority not getting executed. Let’s bffr!

And even if they don’t come back in aa7, we now have a more clear understanding on this messy topic, and you can feel free to use my analysis as a way to explain ace attorney culprits being able to leave prison in fanfictions, roleplays, fanarts etc. Don’t let the fandom tell you what to do >:3

Unrelated but I think this has been my first analysis post I put on tumblr and it was very fun to delve into! I may make more if anyone is interested :3c

[littlestuffstohide]

Rise of the Ashes - Pt3

End the trial? No way. I just love how confident and classy Edgeworth is every time even if he's bluffing crazy to do what's needed. And it's crazy reckless he went and followed Phoenix's lead. Or rather got a few words from Phoenix and decided to pull the entire case with everyone kicking and screaming.

Lmaooo. Let's burn the world. Gaaaaah. Phoenix is my definite fave but Miles just gets to me every time.

Of course Edgeworth lives to do better. ahahahha. These two are his superiors mind you: his boss he's prosecutor and an executive higher up he's telling a massive Fuck You. He's so classy to booth while doing so.

Of course Edgeworth lives to do better. ahahahha. You just don't know how amazing these two will become. He becomes chief prosecutor. Jap version has the better position for Miles being the Attorney General. I wish the english translation could have done justice to Miles position that's not similar to Lana's. Miles deserves to be higher than both of them. and just as a shout out Phoenix and Miles become so legendary they are basically touchless. They get away with ton of shit they pull in court.

I just love how ballsy Edgeworth is. Like no evidence but he bluffed insanely here to get the case moving.

Edgeworth: Testify.

Judge: ... (Agrees after 3 seconds).

Just the amount of pull he has to get everyone moving. Miles is the type to forcefully move everything and Phoenix is the seducing lady the does the work behind? Sorta.

Lmaooo. I forgot to SS the part of Phoenix. I just love Miles' reaction everytime. A lot is just gold to me. They accuse each other of doing things not being done but you know, it's soooo them. They're so comfy to accuse the other even if they know the other is innocent. And the other would REALLY not be offended.

The Blue Badger is the biggest haunt ever. Drawn nasty. Creepier than Chaka Doll. But it's such a goofy existence needed in AA. It's haunting for an hour. Just imagine a case so big but these two men juuuuust discuss and diss the blue badger for an HOUR!

Phoenix. It will never stop haunting you! Everyone just forgets the Blue Badger is just on that crime. BUT everyone's haunted by it that the vase is a vase. Just imagine discussing the ugly mascot for an hour! hahaha. And Phoenix really started the Blue Badger talk!

That's why Miles is the MVP. Like it's insane how these two represent the sword and the shield! The trial goes on because Edgeworth is a genius. And he doesn't pull punches to keep the trial going. We'll drag everyone no matter the consequence. No matter the scandal it causes.

It's all or nothing. Mind you. one High prosecutor and one rookie defense lawyer is up there. Just pulling the craziest stunts. Everyone is onto them. Especially Edgeworth! Miles is so determined. Consequences be damned. This is more than possibly losing their jobs. The repercussions they might face if things go wrong.

Full throttle!

Like this case is both Miles and Phoenix fighting together literally. The rush I feel in playing AA vs AA5 and AA6 is so different. The first three games does better.

This is just the biggest thing about Phoenix. What made him different compared to others. It's flawed, misguided but with great intentions. Apollo does the best he can. But Phoenix puts so much in himself which is why he's sooo choosy on his clients. He's just as hard on himself like Miles is. Or maybe even higher. He gives so much of himself that client which is a double-edged sword that could destroy him. The betrayal does absolute damage to him mentally given the chance. But, if he's right then great. He sets so high standards on what he could do for others. If that's the case, Phoenix probably needs to set a regular therapy session every case he does. They way Phoenix handles himself is so reckless and might as well be destructive.

And he did make it! It's just as bloody but he made a legend for itself!

This sprite just for this moment is to be savored.

It's not nothing. I don't think any prosecutor could bear what Miles did here. This is why Miles is the best!

And Phoenix knows Miles so well. He knew Miles was having a hard time.

And this what hits the most. There is the now and what comes after.

Still, Miles did everything he could to help.

Miles did awesome!

And he's soooo adorable! Just the complement is way beyond words.

[jesterwriting]

Yahallo~ I was wondering if you might write something for Crocodile x reader where reader is sweet and bubbly and affectionate. So, I've had a scenario in my head for awhile where reader is his wife and she goes to visit him at his casino one day just because he hasn't been home in a while and she misses him. Except she's never actually been to the casino before, much less introduced to most of his crew because she's Crocodile's happy little secret. So the bouncers don't let her in and reader decides to cause a commotion, which draws Crocodile out and I'm never actually sure what happens from there. Lol I'd like it to be mostly warm and fluffy, though. I love the idea of a big cold man being warm only for their lover.

I hope you have a lovely day. You're a beautiful honey bun. ♡〜٩(ㆁωㆁ)۶〜♡

pairing: crocodile x gn!reader

contents: established relationship, fluff, secret relationships, kind!reader, smitten!crocodile, crocodile calls you doll, kind of implied the reader tops him later which i personally think is very powerful of them

word count: 1.3k words

note: this is such a cute and funny idea <33 i took some liberties with this, there is no big scene at the door, just because the kind personality of the reader i was going for clashed with that a little bit. and i went a gender neutral route just because it's easier for me. i hope you still enjoy anyway! i absolutely love secret relationships and would love to do more with crocodile and this trope :3

playlist: diet mountain dew - lana del rey

Not once did you care that you were one of Crocodile’s best kept secrets. You understood why such precautions were necessary. Your husband was a powerful man with countless enemies, to have his one weakness known to all would be a terrible oversight on his part. Not only that, but it would also put you in a considerable amount of danger. You were soft, you weren’t ashamed of it. To remain kind in a cruel world took strength. In your opinion at least.

Sometimes, however, it took more strength than usual to remain understanding. This was one such occasion.

You had your own life outside of your husband, much to his dismay. It was half the reason he insisted on keeping your union under wraps. If Crocodile had it his way, you’d be by his side 24/7, or at the very least, surrounded by bodyguards everytime you left his line of sight. He was a cautious man by nature. One did not achieve the power he had by being reckless, especially not with those he loved.

That said, Crocodile hadn’t been home in days and you were starting to get worried. You knew his work was dangerous, keeping Alabasta safe from pirates was not what you’d call an ‘easy’ job. Instead of waiting around for him to return home on his own — inevitably to grump about the kisses you placed upon his facial scar, or the tender way you ran your fingers through his hair — you decided to seek him out. If there was one place where he would be, it would be at the casino.

Unfortunately for you, they wouldn’t let you in.

“Again, the casino is closed to all outside patrons for an event. I can’t let you in if your name isn’t on the list.” The doorman was starting to get frustrated with you stubbornness. You understood why, really you did. This was his job and you had been pestering him for the better part of thirty minutes. While you had patience, you were no saint. This whole situation was starting to get on your last nerve.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you let out a sigh. “And I get that, but I’m looking for my husband. I know he’s in there, can’t you go get him for me and we can talk outside the venue?”

The doorman hummed, considering the option. Finally, he gave you the smallest of smiles, the first you had gotten from him the whole night. “That’s doable. What’s his name so I can send someone to fetch him?”

You chewed on your bottom lip. This wasn’t going to go well. How many people tried to sneak their way into events using your husband’s name? For all this man knew, you were another lovesick fan, trying to get a whiff of the hero of Alabasta’s cologne before you were escorted out by security.

Whatever. It wouldn’t hurt to try, you thought.

“Um. Crocodile?”

The doorman burst out laughing, head thrown back and tears spilling down his cheeks. “Listen, you’re a looker, but you’re not that good looking. Now scram, I have a job to do.”

With a deep breath, you tried again. “I’m serious, he’s my husband. Please let me in.”

“Yeah, and I’m the king. Don’t make me call security on you.”

If Crocodile found out that the doorman called security on you, the man’s job would be down the drain before he could say ‘sorry.��� You didn’t want that, even if in your current irritation, you’d feel quite a bit vindicated. It was people like him that kept your husband safe, even if he did so in a rather frustrating manner.

You shuffled your feet, blinking a few times at the man who laughed in your face. Okay, maybe you did want him fired, but you were better than that. Kinder than that.

There was a commotion coming from the casino. You peered behind the doorman to see your husband surrounded by a hoard of Alabastan citizens, all clamoring for his attention. Your heart swelled at the sight of him, relieved to find him safe and sound. As much as you wanted to give him a piece of your mind for worrying you so much, the doorman’s glare was starting to get to you. Now that you knew he was alive, you could wait a little bit longer for Crocodile to return home.

“Well, thank you for your time,” You said as politely as you could. Even then, the words came out forced between clenched teeth.

The doorman merely rolled his eyes in response. Right before you turned your back, you caught your husband’s gaze. Crocodile’s eyebrows shot up at the sight of you, surprise replacing his previous annoyance. Flashing him a small smile and a wave, you turned to make your way home. You barely made it a few steps before Crocodile’s hand was on your shoulder, his grip firm enough to hold you in place. The crowd that surrounded him was gone, off to find someone else to celebrate with — or pester, as Crocodile was prone to say.

“What are you doing here, doll?”

Whipping around, you slotted your hands on your hips and hit your husband with the worst glare you could muster. You tried not to be disappointed when all you were met with was a glimmer of amusement. “Looking for you. It’s been days since you’ve been home, I was starting to get worried.”

Crocodile shrugged and took an inhale of his cigar. “There was no need for you to come here, I was coming home tonight.”

“And how am I supposed to know that if you don’t tell me. I’m not a mind reader,” You shot back.

Crocodile sighed, a cloud of smoke accompanied the action. You really wished he would quit, but you weren’t naive enough to believe you could convince him. The doorman coughed a few times, drawing both you and your husband’s attention. He looked absolutely dumbfounded at the scene playing out in front of him. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, and you had hoped he had enough wherewithal to keep himself hidden so as not to earn your husband’s ire. Evidently not.

“I am so sorry,” The doorman started, hands numbly raised in surrender.

Wow. This man was the biggest idiot you had ever met. Crocodile slowly turned in his direction, a single eyebrow raised.

“You’re sorry?” Your husband's expression split into a furious glower, and for the first time that night, you felt truly sorry for the doorman. “And what are you apologizing for? I better like the answer.”

Before the man could speak, you placed yourself between them. “He was just doing his job, love. No need to get all fussy. Why don’t you walk me home and we can talk more? I’ve missed you.”

Crocodile’s expression softened when you grabbed his arm and leaned into his side. With his flesh hand, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you flush against him. Before you left, Crocodile reached around you and into his breast pocket. When he removed his hand, there was a wad of beri in it, a fatter stack than usual. He tossed it at the doorman’s feet.

“Forget what you saw here.” Crocodile narrowed his eyes, his hook glinting in the dull lamplight. “Or I’ll be seeing you again. Privately.”

“Don’t flirt with the poor man, he looks like he’s about to wet himself.”

Crocodile merely grumbled — affectionately, you knew that grumble anywhere — as he started in the direction of your shared home. “I don’t flirt and I don’t fuss, you know this, doll.”

“Bold of you to lie to my face when I’m still not sure if I’ve forgiven you yet.”

You had. It was hard to keep the grin off your face when Crocodile was warm against your side, the scent of him filling your nostrils until your head was fuzzy.

Oh, how you couldn’t wait to kiss him pliant in the comfort of your bed later tonight. For all of Crocodile’s power, you had him absolutely wrapped around your little finger.

[cthonic-bunny]

Hi celestialscatterbrain!

Hope you are well today ◡̈

Wanted to see what you thought about venus square uranus in composite chart as well as an 8th house stellium in composite!

I also am curious to know what your fav/least fav placement and aspects would be in a composite chart.

Thanks for your time, energy, effort and knowledge

Enjoy your week 💐

(18+) minors do not interact

Thank you so much!!! I hope your week is great too 🩵

Venus square Uranus in the composite chart has potential to be a great thrill, but it also felt like such a headache. It feels like the butterflies exist here because of the relationship’s unpredictability. I had asked myself numerous times if that’s the only reason I liked this person, because I wasn’t getting much more out of it. If you’re at a distance from one another or can’t see each other often, this placement can easily be really annoying. It can also feel like you guys are only allowed to come together in bursts. You guys have “chapters” where you’re involved, and probably not for long periods of time, and then come back together (… and then the cycle repeats 🎡).

There’s probably something a little controversial or unconventional about your setup. If not, it can feel like it’s not a relationship that is instantly going to be committed until a more stable time in life. I also wouldn’t be surprised if this started off as a “meaningless hookup,” where you still interact on and off after. This might be best between two people who are friends with benefits and truly want to keep it that way for a while. Even then, you still might wish for there to be something just a little more concrete between you two. If not, it might feel like this lyric from the song “romantic homicide” by d4vd: “why am I still here? I don’t mean to be complacent with the decisions you made, but why?… I’m sick of waiting patiently for someone that won’t even arrive.”

For me, it felt like things were going great, and then all of a sudden you’re caught off guard by something. Then you have to wait for that “something” to be resolved or normalized before you resume the interaction. You might compromise on a lot of circumstances you definitely wouldn’t encourage your friends to compromise on. You might also feel like you have to normalize a lot of new situations you’ve never handled before. This interaction can really call for you to be adaptable and non-judgmental.

You guys might feel like you’re on a seesaw, where one desires more commitment so the other one pulls back, and then you take turns. In some cases, one person definitely spends a lot more time being the one pulled back and afraid of intimacy than the other, bc maybe the other is already more comfortable with closeness even if it doesn’t come with commitment.

This can be so unstable, it’s nauseating. The mixed signals can be infuriating. Am I being led on? Am I being used? Do you just want me when you want me to make you feel attractive and desired? Did your last option fail and now you want to come back so you can enjoy the thrill of a relationship/intimacy?

You two can bring out and understand each other’s reckless or wild side. You’ll be willing to get out of character, or misbehave with one another. It reminds me of “happiness is a butterfly” by Lana del Rey when she says: “I’ll pick you up if you’re in town on the corner, happiness is a butterfly, we should catch it while dancing high, lose my self in the music baby…” “don’t be a jerk, don’t call me a taxi, sitting in your sweatshirt crying in the back seat.. I just want to dance with you… baby I just wanna dance, with you.”

This is such a situationship placement.

I don’t think it helped that when I experienced this, we had our Venus in the 12H of our composite. 😭

On a positive note, you guys can have a lot of fun together!!! You guys give each other a nice rush and it can make the more stable, normal partners you experience after them feel “boring” or “too safe” in comparison. You could’ve linked up in a very memorable way. It’s definitely a fling or relationship you’ll never forget.

—

I do enjoy the 8th house stellium a lot more. I recently got to experience this one, so my appreciation has grown for it! 👻

You two might come together when one of you is undergoing a spiritual transformation. They can just be coming into their spirituality or feeling very inclined to explore it deeper or in new ways, and maybe you are too! You guys love to talk about the occult together. You want to deep dive into it together. One of you can mentor the other in a sense, spiritually. You can introduce them to more nuanced topics within their own beliefs. You want to do magic together. Merging is easy and natural. You share your paranormal experiences together. You also have no problem talking about any topic with one another, because nothing is off the table! You can appreciate the taboo sides of one another, and it’s easy to confess secrets. Physical intimacy is instantly great, and you might be surprised at how comfortable you feeling during the act with this person even if you would be shy or reserved with past partners. You two find each other’s genitals to be attractive. Sex involves a lot of touching and grabbing, and overall appreciation for each other’s bodies as a sexual partner. You surprisingly can really respect the others personal time and space, which makes them come to you more. You think about them a lot in passing. Even if you guys are in a casual fling, you guys still chit chat throughout the day every day to let them know you’re not going anywhere even if you’re extremely busy. You can also come together when you two are attempting to shift the way that you generate your respective incomes.

You two can be very different, but those differences can be where the magnetism towards one another is sourced from. You have a respect for one another immediately. You’d instantly like to have them around for more than just a night! You always want to make sure they’re okay. You can be protective over one another and can defend each other unconditionally. You want to help each other transform. You can let go of old, outdated guards you had up with others, because this person knows what hurts you and how to handle you. You like to get each other little gifts early on, maybe gifts tied to the occult! Together, you are a force to be reckoned with. ❤️‍🔥

Of course, this is more of the positive and ideal manifestation. I’m sure with more negative aspects to planets in the 8H or an 8H mars, the potential for extremism can be far more activated. Mars in the 8H with harsh Pluto aspects can really take over the “nice” qualities of 8H contacts. The sex will still be amazing and keep on getting better and better and better and BETTER with time, but make sure you guys learn how to diffuse anger early on in the relationship and don’t try to hurt the other. That isn’t a relationship you want to sabotage before it properly begins, because those grudges can be held for far too long. Extreme arguments can occur here, and physical violence can become a thing. You will literally be wishing death on one another and your adrenaline levels can drive you to mutually destruct. This is best for a couple where forgiveness is easily achieved and always sought after. If you start off well, and always have each others best interests in mind, then you can defeat old wounds and negative beliefs together and rise like phoenixes from ash.

You can also read my first post on an 8H stellium in the composite chart here for more information/another manifestation of it! (Maybe more reflective of the long term aspect, my description above is more for the start of the interaction)

[gauloiseblue]

Specific songs for COD character's scenarios

I was listening to my playlist, and my brain randomly threw ideas at me. I was too lazy to write those fics, but I just had to get it out of my system. Anyway, here's a list of songs that I associate with COD characters, along with the summary of the story.

I will add more in the future, but for now, I think it's pretty much it. To the imaginariland we go.

Price

The Girl In The Yellow Dress - David Gilmour

Unwinding at a bar leads him to a pleasant meeting with a girl. Evening turns into night, as he becomes more and more enamored by the girl. Until the band stops, and she leaves him in the dark. Never once told him her name.

Wish You Were Here - Pink Floyd

Old married couple AU, where Price has retired. His kids have grown up, leaving him and his wife alone. After all they've been through—big arguments, strained relationships, and long months deployment—they realize they still love each other to the end.

Ghost

Hyper-ballad - Björk

Whenever Simon comes home, he struggles to live in normalcy. His partner is unchanging, while he's never the same man after all the missions. To keep himself grounded, he made the habit of leaving the house at the dead of the night, to stare at the darkness of the forest in the backyard. Sometimes, he lets his mind wander to the possibility of him walking into the forest and disappears, but it soon dies down when he looks back to his house.

During one of his mission at a secluded village in Germany, he encounters a strange girl by the river. She's a human, but her demeanor seems to suggest otherwise. Though he doesn't believe in myths, he begins to think that the cautionary tale of a Nymph in this village carries a grain of truth.

König

It's Possible - Piero Piccioni

There's a reason behind his lack of commitment to love, and no one knows it except for his best friend. He might’ve been too hot-headed and reckless, but he's loyal. That was until a certain girl from his childhood betrayed him. And yet, after all these years, his heart still belongs to her.

Alejandro

Eye Hate U - Prince

Before Shadow Company became what it is now, Graves had a loving wife and a perfect home. She's smart, and capable of giving him advices. Until his pride took him over, and he became neglectful, ignoring her warnings on certain missions. She left him before the Al Mazrah Incident happened, leaving him bitter and regretful.

Graves

The Next Best American Record (Demo) - Lana Del Rey

National Anthem - Lana Del Rey

In the height of his career, money was never an issue for him. He could buy any weapons he wanted, and he could afford the most luxurious lifestyle. He can still afford it, but he has to work harder for it. He doesn't mind it, after all, it's only right for him to treat his wife, right?

Young Lust - Pink Floyd

Though he refuses to admit it, his relationship with his wife has gone cold. Over years of infidelity and neglect, she decided to leave the house, and moved to her old apartment. He thought one day she'd change her mind and come back to him, until one night, he heard a man's voice when he called her on the phone.

Coming to a high-school reunion opens an old scar in him, as he sees his high-school sweetheart in the arm of another man. Their relationship was great, it was great, but sadly, she thought otherwise.

Gaz

Love Is A Laserquest - Arctic Monkeys

[bijouxcarys]

𝑻𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑩𝒊𝒏𝒅 (𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝑹𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒏𝒔 𝒙 𝑶𝑪) - 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑺𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏

Masterlist

Character Profiles/Face Claims

Playlist

A/N: Okay, I'm super happy with how this one turned out, so my Satanist ass is praying y'all enjoy this one gahhh. And thank you for the kind words thus far. It means a lot that people are enjoying this since it's wayyyy out of my comfort zone and I've never written anything like it before!

Tags: @trippinsorrows @empressdede @thetribalqueen @heauxvibez @bigsimperika

@cyberdejos2 @keyaho @headoftheetable @jstarr86 @southerngirl41

@tshepisho @cry1nwhileimcumm1n @maeb99 @thedesireds @dzdndcnfsd

@expert-texpert @niknakbucks92 @sillyteecup @trentybenty

(let me know if you want to be tagged in future Roman fics)

January 3, 2014

SoHo turned into a mess tonight. Nate and Lana thought they could slip into one of those flashy clubs, but of course, someone recognised Nate. The bouncers gave the excuse that she’s underage—technically true at 18—but that’s not the whole story, is it?

Dimitri… God, his anger was something fierce. He ripped into her the moment she stepped through the door, calling her an embarrassment. Modern music, parties—he sees them as distractions, as if he’s forgotten what it’s like to be young and reckless.

But Nate isn’t a child anymore. She’s growing into her own, and it’s painful watching him treat her the same as he does Katya. Nate’s got that fire. That untamed spirit that’s as thrilling as it is dangerous. I worry where it will lead her.

I’m scared for them, for both my girls. Dimitri’s world is too dark, too consuming. I can only hope that they find a way out—a path that’s not as suffocating as the one I ended up on.

But hope feels like such a fragile thing these days.

Nate ran her hand through her hair, gripping it at the roots as she finished reading the same journal entry for the 5th time. She wasn’t sure why she was obsessing over it—probably something to do with the fact it was the only one she could find in her family’s library. Stuffed away in a drawer. 

It wasn’t even like it was that out of the ordinary, either. Nate was always aware of her mother’s reluctance when it came to family business. Which begged the question for her as to why she married her dad in the first place. Maybe he was different back then… Maybe he wasn’t always a stubborn, heartless, iceberg of a human being. 

Nate would begrudgingly gamble on her mother being beside herself, if she was to see how things were now. How her oldest was slowly morphing into her husband each passing day. Nate didn’t like it either, let’s get that straight. But when you grow up and remain in the presence of a parent, the chances are you’ll end up just like them.

And that was… terrifying as a concept.

Granted, Nate had a good 30-something years to go before she reached his age. But even so, if she were to travel back in time and come face-to-face with the 19-year-old version of herself, she wouldn’t recognise herself. In fact, she looked back on that time of her life like a stranger watching a soap opera. Memories were scattered, robotic, surreal. And she couldn’t pinpoint when the change happened.

Maybe it was the sick reality of losing her mother to such a tragedy, or the disillusionment of justice not being served. 

Or maybe there was simply a switch, hiding behind layers and layers of resilience, bullets, and blood, that remained in a permanent state of off when it came to facing the fact that her mother would hate the person she’d become.

The thought made her skin crawl. She pushed the piece of paper away, as if distance could somehow sever the connection between her and the woman who had given her life. But the truth was, no matter how far she ran, she couldn’t escape the blood that ran through her veins.

Nate rubbed her temples, trying to ward off the headache that was beginning to form. She needed to get out of her own head, to focus on something tangible, something she could control. Her mother’s death had been a tragedy—one that had left scars too deep to heal. But this… this was something else entirely. This was a reckoning.

And if there was one thing Nate Volkov knew how to do, it was to survive a reckoning.

Even if it meant momentarily blocking it all out and pretending like it wasn’t happening.

So, she did the only thing she could think of to bring her out of the slump. She whipped out her phone and sent a not-so-cryptic message to the only girl on the planet who knew how to throw life out the window, even for 12 measly hours.

Nate: my lovely lana babe…😁

Lana: My gorgeous Natalka

Nate: how do we feel about X tonight??

Lana: …😏

Lana: Do you even need to ask?

Nate: 🥂🥳

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Roman was mid-rep, the barbell hovering above his chest, when the familiar sound of the FaceTime ringtone cut through the steady rhythm of his workout. He paused, muscles tense, debating whether to finish the set or take the call. But as the ringtone persisted, and he cast a subtle glance over at the contact number, he sighed, carefully racking the weights before grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat from his face.

With one last deep breath, he grabbed his phone and hit “accept” to Maria’s call, but the sight of Ava’s beaming face and gap-toothed grin instantly brightened his mood.

“Hey, baby girl,” he greeted.

“Hi, Daddy!” Ava’s enthusiasm was potent, the excitement in her voice nearly bursting through the screen.

“Whatchu doin’?” he asked with a paternal smile, pulling up a chair and sitting down.

“Me and Mommy made pancakes.” Her chestnut curls bounced around her head as she practically vibrated with energy. It was obvious she was experiencing some kind of pancake-induced sugar rush, and the idea warmed Roman’s heart somewhat. He was just glad that she seemed to be enjoying her childhood whenever he spoke to her. The last thing he wanted was for her to be in an environment that felt unsafe, or made her feel the slightest bit uncomfortable. 

“Oh, Daddy, guess what I did today!”

Roman chuckled. “What’s that, Princess?”

“Italian! Mommy got me a teacher. She’s a nice lady!” Ava looked over at Maria, who was busying herself with some dishes in the background, before focusing back on the call. “I learned so many new words! Wanna hear?”

“Of course, I do,” Roman said, leaning in and giving her his full, undivided attention. “Lay it on me, girl.”

Ava straightened up, her little face scrunched in concentration. “Ciao, papá! Come stai?” she announced proudly, her pronunciation careful and slightly off, as one would expect for someone her age.

Roman grinned. “Molto bene, grazie! E tu?”

The small child giggled, clearly pleased with herself. “Bene! Bene!” she echoed, clapping her hands.

“That’s great, Ava,” Roman praised, his heart swelling with pride. “You’re getting really good at this.”

“Mommy says I’m a… na… na-tu-ral…natural,” she added, glancing back at her mother in confirmation, as though asking if she’d said the word correctly. Roman saw Maria smile, but she didn’t look up from what she was doing.

“You know,” he continued, his demeanour thoughtful. “Maybe next time I see you, I could teach you some Samoan.”

Maria’s subtle scoff in the background didn’t go unnoticed by Roman, and it thankfully went straight over Ava’s head, but he ignored it, focusing on his daughter’s wide-eyed curiosity.

“What’s that mean? Samoan?”

“Samoan is my family’s language. It’s part of your DNA, baby, that means it’s in your blood. Who you are.” His voice remained gentle and calm.

Ava tilted her head, still trying to grasp the concept and wrap it around her developing brain. “What’s DNA?”

He smiled, choosing his words carefully. “DNA is what makes you… you. It’s like a recipe, like with the pancakes you made with Mommy. It says you’re my daughter, and Mommy’s daughter too. Half of you is from your mom, and the other half is from me. That’s why you’re so special, baby girl. You got two strong families in you.”

“So…” her face scrunched up in thought. “I’m half Samoan?”

“That’s right,” Roman affirmed tenderly. “And that means you’re strong, just like all the Samoans before you. You got heart, soul, and a lotta courage. Never forget that.”

“But I thought Nonna was Italian?”

“She is. Which means…” a playful smirk spread across Roman’s face, “I’m also half Samoan, half Italian,” he added with an exaggerated whisper.

Ava gasped, her little face lighting up at the mere thought. “I’m just like you, Daddy!” she squealed.

Roman half-expected Maria to come out with some sarcastic comment, but even she knew it was wise to keep her mouth shut in front of their baby girl. It still gave him some sick kind of satisfaction, knowing she couldn’t say a word to their daughter’s excitement over being more like her Daddy than she initially thought.

“I wanna learn Samoan too, Daddy!”

“I promise you, you will, baby. But for now, let’s start with this… Oute alofa ia oe.”

It took Ava multiple tries to get a hang of the pronunciation, and she still wasn’t grasping where to correctly emphasise syllables. But as she managed to repeat those words back to her father, he, for the first time in years, felt that strange tickle you get in the back of your throat that usually precedes tears.

He wasn’t prepared for how extraordinary it was to hear his little girl speak Samoan.

“What does that mean, Daddy?” she asked with an innocent tilt of the head.

“It means I love you… And I never ever want you to think I don’t.” Even though the weight of Roman’s words were too hefty to be considered by such a young human, he still felt the need to proclaim them. At any chance he could, he’d always remind Ava of how much her daddy loves her. Because he never knew if he’d still be here tomorrow.

“Keep practising your Italian, baby. You keep it up, and soon you’ll be able to talk to everyone in Italy.”

Ava’s eyes widened in amazement, as if the idea of speaking fluent Italian to an entire country was the most exciting thing in the world. “Really?”

“Really,” Roman confirmed with a chuckle. He glanced away for a moment, checking the time at the top of his phone screen and the smile on his face faltered a fraction. “Uh, listen, Ava, Daddy’s gotta go…” His heart broke at the saddened expression on his daughter’s face. “I’ll call you tomorrow, I pro–”

“Oh, you can’t call her tomorrow, Roman,” Maria finally interjected, taking control of her phone and picking it up, subsequently removing Ava from the picture. “She’s at school a little longer, and then she’s got dance class until 8. She might be able to say goodnight, but that’s it.”

Roman’s brows narrowed in confusion. “Why she at school longer?”

“Because,” Maria huffed, “I have things to do, Romano, doing some work on the house, and she’s gotta stay a couple hours with some other kids. Va bene per te?”

Roman closed his eyes momentarily and slowly ran a large hand over his beard, the disdain for Maria’s clipped tone laying dormant in the pit of his stomach. 

“Lemme say goodnight to her,” he deviated before he said something that landed him further in the shit with his ex-wife than he already was. Maria didn’t argue, for once, and tilted the phone so Roman could see Ava.

“Night night, Daddy!” she reached up to wave at him the best she could. “I love you!”

“Love you too, Princess. G’night–”

“Gotta go, bye, Roman,” Maria interjected, and before Roman could process what was happening, the call ended.

He stared at the blank screen for a moment, letting out a long breath. He knew he should have been thinking about planning his next visit to Florida. Ava needed to see him in person. If there was one thing Maria was right about, it was that, at least…

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Roman headed back upstairs, his body still buzzing from the workout. He could hear the faint hum of conversation as he approached the living room, and as he stepped inside, he spotted Naomi lounging on the couch, her legs tucked under her. She looked up from her phone and smiled when she saw him.

“Hey, big man,” she greeted warmly.

“Trin,” Roman acknowledged her with her middle name and a nod, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, before looking over at the two over-grown kids that seem to squat in his house on occasion. “You two ready?”

“Almost,” Jimmy replied, a grin spreading across his face. He was leaning against the arm of the couch, looking relaxed but with that familiar spark in his eyes. Jey was pacing the room, clearly itching to get out and get the night started.

“Y’all actin’ like it’s the first time you’ve been to a club,” Naomi teased, rolling her eyes playfully.

“Just tryin’ to keep up with you, girl,” Jey shot back, his grin widening. “You know I’m gonna need some pointers on how to get these girls to notice me.”

Naomi laughed, shaking her head. “Please, the only thing you need to do is enter. Trust me, they’ll see you.”

Roman headed towards the stairs, chuckling to himself. “You might want to tone it down a notch, Jey. Don’t need you scarin’ off every girl in the place.”

Jey smirked, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Who said anything about scaring them off? I’m just lookin’ to bring one home tonight. Maybe two if I’m lucky.”

“Boy, you wild,” Jimmy chimed in, cackling. “Just remember, you ain’t got Roman’s kinda pull. Don’t get in over your head.”

“Trust me, Uce,” Jey gave his brother a pointed look. “I got this.”

Before he could continue his ascension up the stairs, Roman paused and looked back at him. “Just finish gettin’ ready, man, we’re hittin’ X, of all places. I don’t want any bullshit. We’re there to scope it out, not to start a fight.” 

Naomi raised an eyebrow. “That place? You really think it’s worth the hassle?”

“More than you know,” he replied without looking back. “But let’s not make it obvious. We’re just there to have a good time.”

“Right,” Naomi said, though there was a knowing look in her eyes. She knew better than to question Roman’s judgement, especially when it came to business.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

The plan was to hit up Madame X, a well-known nightclub in SoHo, where the Volkovs had their dirty little fingers in the pie. It was more than just a night out; it was a recon mission, though Roman had made it clear they could have a bit of fun too—within reason.

He wiped the condensation from the mirror, studying his reflection, determined to unwind—at least outwardly.

He stepped into the master bedroom, heading straight for his walk-in closet. He wasn’t in the mood for the full suit treatment tonight. This was SoHo, not a boardroom, and they needed to blend in while still looking like they belonged there.

Shifting through his clothes, he eventually settled on a pair of dark jeans that fit him just right—snug enough to show he had some muscle packed under there. He pulled on a black Henley shirt that clung to his broad chest and shoulders, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, showing off a little bit of the tattoo on his arm. Over that, he grabbed a leather jacket, adding just enough… edge to the look. 

He wasn’t dressing to impress anyone, but he wasn’t going to look like shit, either.

He paused at the mirror for a minute, running a hand through his hair, pushing it back off his face with a healthy accompaniment of leave-in conditioner. Satisfied, he headed back downstairs.

“Damn, Uce,” Jey whistled as Roman made his presence known back in the living room. “You lookin’ to break some hearts tonight?”

“Nah, that’s your job, remember?” Roman teased with a side glance.

“Y’all already know I ain’t goin’ home empty-handed…” he trailed off, his words translating in a kind of sing-song cadence. 

“Please don’t get us thrown out,” Naomi sighed exaggeratedly, standing from her position on the couch and brushing herself down. Outfit on point, as always, reminding Jimmy that he was one lucky son of a bitch.

“Alright, let’s roll out,” Roman clapped, grabbing his keys. “Remember, we’re there to keep an eye on things. No wild shit, ua maua?”

Throwing his arm around his cousin’s shoulder as they walked out, Jey grinned. “You know me, Uce. I’m just there to enjoy the view… maybe get a lil’ closer to it, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Roman muttered, though there was still a hint of a smile there. Somewhere. “Just don’t bring any trouble back to my place. I’m serious.”

“I hear you, big dog,” Jey replied, but the smile on his face said otherwise.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Roman pushed through the entrance of Madame X, the low, steady beat of the music vibrating through his chest as they stepped into the club. The space was a mix of modern sleekness and old-school decadence, with plush velvet booths and chandeliers casting a warm, intimate glow over everything. The walls were adorned with dark wood panelling, and the air was thick with the scent of expensive liquor and perfume.

His eyes swept over the room, taking in the scene—the couples huddled close in booths, the groups at the bar laughing too loudly, the women dancing with an effortless grace under the dim, red lights. It was a place that exuded a certain kind of danger, the kind that made people feel alive.

No wonder the Volkovs had shares in the place.

The Head of the Table’s presence didn’t go unnoticed. As they moved further into the club, he could feel the eyes on him—some curious, some appreciative, and some just plain hungry. He had a magnetic pull, the kind of energy that practically ordered you to stop and stare. It was a part of who he was, and he had learned long ago how to wield it to his advantage.

The group approached the bar, Roman taking the lead with Jey by his side. Behind them, Naomi and Jimmy stayed close together as a way of making a statement. Together, they exuded a commanding presence in its own right. She had a way of holding her own in any room, and Jimmy was… well, he was Jimmy. Charming, funny, and relentlessly protective over his woman.

Roman leaned against the bar, his eyes catching the gaze of a brunette a few stools down. She was gorgeous, with dark, wavy hair that framed her face perfectly, and lips that curved into a knowing smile as she met his stare. He felt that familiar rush of adrenaline, the one that always came when he was out in the wild, playing the game.

Before he could consider making a move, the bartender came over. “What’ll it be?”

“Whiskey, neat,” Roman replied, his voice low but clear as sin over the music. “Macallan, if you’ve got it.”

The bartender nodded and moved to get the drink, and Roman turned his attention back to the brunette. But before he could say anything, Naomi nudged him with her elbow, smirking as she and Jimmy leaned against the bar themselves.

“Eyes on the prize, Roman,” she jested just loud enough for him to hear. “You’re supposed to be scoping the place, not the women.”

“Can’t blame a man for appreciating the scenery…”

Naomi laughed softly. “Just don’t get too distracted, big man.”

“Business and pleasure, though right?” Jimmy chimed in. “Doesn’t hurt to mix the two.” He poked at Naomi’s ribs, encouraging a jolt and a swat on the arm from the woman in question.

Roman’s drink finally arrived, and he lifted it in a casual salute to his family. “Have a good night, but do not forget why we’re here.”

Jey received his own drink, and he turned to his cousin with the same playful glint in his eye. “You sayin’ we should keep it low-key, but I’m pretty sure if we wanted to, we could own this place tonight.”

Roman sipped his whiskey, letting the smooth burn slide down his throat. “Let’s not go that far. We don’t need the attention.”

“How ‘bout you focus on findin’ a girl who won’t run for the hills when they find out you’re still living off Roman’s coattails?” Jimmy swatted his brother away so he could order his own drink.

“Fuck off, Jimmy. Just ‘cus you married to ol’ Naomi here, don’t mean I gotta be tied down.”

Pushing himself up from the bar, drink in hand, Roman glanced over at the brunette once more, firmly deciding to shoot his shot. He rarely failed, anyways. But he didn’t leave without one last word to his cousins.

“Don’t do anythin’ that’s gonna make me have to bail your dumbass out later.” He turned to Naomi. “I am putting my trust in you. You have my full permission to whoop asses if they ain’t behavin’, a’ight?”

“You got it, Chief,” Naomi playfully saluted up at Roman, but she knew to take the request as seriously as anything.

Once again, Roman’s eyes locked onto the brunette a little further down the bar. He could feel the pull between them as her eyes met his, and she tightened the way her leg crossed over the other in the figure-hugging dress that drew more than his gaze. With a confident stride, he made his way over to her.

“Buy you a drink?” he offered lowly, carrying the weight of someone used to getting what they wanted. 

She looked up at him, a playful smile curving her lips. “Depends. What’s a girl like me gotta do to deserve a drink from a guy like you?”

Roman leaned in slightly, closing the distance between them. “You’ve already done enough, just by comin’ here.”

Her laugh was soft, provocative. “Is that your best line?”

He shrugged, allowing a grin to overtake his features. “Maybe. But I’m more about actions than words.”

“Is that so?” Her voice held a challenge, and Roman knew he had her hooked.

He ordered her a martini, sliding the drink her way. Their fingers brushed briefly, the contact sending a jolt through him.

“You don’t seem like the type who needs to chase,” she said, keeping her focus solely on him as she sipped her drink.

“I don’t,” he replied smoothly, “But sometimes, it’s about findin’ someone worth chasin’.”

Her breath hitched, the chemistry between them bubbling to the surface. He was allowing himself to get drawn in, and the possibility of taking her home became more prevalent with every second.

But just as the conversation was heating up, the music abruptly shifted. The pounding bass of an obscure European—Roman guessed Russian by the few words on the track—filled the room, pulling him completely from his focus.

“How you go from radio pop to this?” he muttered, not entirely impressed with the choice of music.

The brunette chuckled, taking another sip from her drink. “They take requests sometimes… depends if someone important enough requests it.”

Roman glanced around, spotting Jey shooting his shot with a couple of girls over at the booths, and Jimmy glued to Naomi on the dancefloor. But one little shift of his eyes, slightly to the left, allowed him to spot a familiar figure that he really wasn’t looking to encounter tonight.

Natalka Volkov, of all people, stood on a table at the other end of the room, her drink raised in the air. She was dressed in a sapphire blue dress that gripped onto her body in a way that made it impossible to ignore. Her usually composed demeanour was gone, replaced by a carefree, almost wild energy as she danced to the beat, clearly drunk but still wearily in control of her actions.

Next to her, a blonde woman—her friend, Roman guessed—cheered her on. The sight of her like this, so uninhibited, twisted something in his gut. She was a complication he didn’t need, didn’t want, tonight, yet here she was, intruding on his thoughts once again.

The brunette noticed his distraction. “Something wrong?” she asked, tilting her head curiously.

Roman forced a smile, shaking his head. “Just saw someone I didn’t expect.”

But even as he tried to focus back on the brunette, his mind was still on Nate. She looked like she was in her element, completely at ease in the chaos of the club, and Roman found the image burning into his mind. His frustration continued to simmer beneath the surface, her wild dance moves and carefree attitude completely throwing off the sexual charge he’d been building with the brunette. The heat from the club, combined with the tension thrumming through his body, made him crave an outlet for all the energy she’d so unwittingly disrupted.

An idea struck him, though: Nate was drunk, maybe too drunk to maintain the fierce walls she always put up. This could be his chance to get some answers. If she was this loose with herself, maybe she’d be loose with… information, too. The thought of outsmarting her, of getting the upper hand, spurred him on.

And when she finally hopped off of the table, damn near exposing herself in the process, that was when Roman made the decision to follow her toward the club’s dimly lit side area. Her movements were less calculated, swaying slightly with the alcohol coursing through her. This was his chance.

Turning around, Nate’s eyes clocked him approaching her and her expression swiftly shifted from carefree to guarded. And perhaps a hint of recognition, curiosity… interest?

“Volkov,” Roman called, pitched just enough to be heard over the music. “Didn’t expect to find you here.”

Nate raised an eyebrow, glancing to the side as she swayed on her heels. “What, you following women to the bathroom, now?”

He smirked, stepping forward to allow a few girls to pass them by, the proximity between the two decreasing. So close to each other that he could smell the scent of her perfume mixed with the alcohol on her breath. “Just curious what brings you to somewhere like this. You don’t strike me as the party type, Princess.”

Rolling her eyes, Nate took a sip of the drink that remained in her perfectly manicured hand—a vodka tonic, from the looks of it. “And you don’t strike me as someone who cares.”

“Maybe I’m just tryna figure out why you’re so dead set on blaming my family for somethin’ we ain’t done,” Roman shot back, clipping his tone at sharp. He impatiently waited as she took yet another sip from her drink, faced with the image of her plump lips curving around the edge of the glass and leaving a slight lipstick stain in its wake.

Nate’s eyes flashed with irritation. “Oh, so now you’re the victim?” She leaned up a little, her voice a bit slurred but still carrying that edge of defiance as she spat her words venomously. “You and your family have always taken what you wanted, so why should this be any different?” She let the question hang in the air, resting the weight of her body back against the wall.

Roman chuckled, running his tongue over his teeth before exhaling with an air of irritation. “Why don’t you tell me,” he started, opting to rest his hand on the wall beside her head, “just why is your Daddy so convinced it was us?” He didn’t even care that his way of wording his inquiry lacked his usual sophistication—he did have a level of leniency with her less-than-sober state.

She giggled, a rare sound that came across surprisingly light and entirely too blithe. “You think I’d spill all that just because I’m a little tipsy?”

Then, in a complete and utter moment of indiscretion, her hand brushed against his chest, pointer finger gently jabbing  just where the last button of his Henley sat. He tensed, entirely unhappy with the reaction her touch elicited. The warmth of her fingers burned through his shirt, searing into his skin. She was so close to him, too close—closer than sober her ever allowed herself to be. And he had to remind himself that this was an opportunity, not a distraction.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he pressed, lowering his voice further, and boldly dropping his head just so he could be within inches of her ear. “Why not just give me a lil’ somethin’? You know I’ll figure it out eventually.”

Nate bit softly on her lower up, craning her neck upwards to look at him with an almost childish expression. “You’re so confident, Reigns. Always so sure of yourself…” she taunted through a sigh, but there was that underlying truth to them that caught Roman off-guard.

Before he could respond, Nate’s hand slid further up his chest, up to his neck, where her thumb brushed against his thick beard. Her lips pursed, almost as if she were cooing at him like a toddler. “You think you’re so smart… but you don’t know half of what’s really going on, do you?”

Roman felt his pulse quicken, not from the fact that Natalka Volkov, of all people, had her hand on him, but from the way she seemed to be teetering on the edge of saying… too much.

He needed to keep her talking.

“Enlighten me then, Princess.”

Nate’s eyes fluttered, half-lidded as she took a deep breath, the action only emphasising her chest to him. God, that dress… looks too damn good on someone so scheming.

“You think I’ll spill everything… about my dad,” she smirked, “When you know just as much as I do.” Her eyes locked onto his, the subdued lighting causing a menacing shadow to cast under his eyebrows and shield half of his eyes. 

“I might… despise my father,” she recklessly, and finally, admitted. “But even if I did know every little thing about whatever it is you’re trying to uncover…”

She attempted to push herself up from the wall, but only succeeded in anchoring her lower half forwards, causing one of her bare legs to brush up against Roman’s jeans. It shouldn’t have caused his arm to give out, even slightly, but it did.

“I still wouldn’t give anything like that,” she hummed, “To a man like you.”

Roman pulled back slightly, looking down at her straight-on. There was something in her expression, something that told him she wasn’t bluffing. He thought he’d gathered everything he needed on the Volkovs themselves. He thought he knew their dynamics, that the reason for their almost immortal, untouchable status in New York City was down to the very core of their operations: an unbreakable familial bond.

But this was one of those rare moments where Roman Reigns could definitively, and humbly, admit that he was wrong.

And in this situation, that made her either the most dangerous individual out there… or the most valuable.

Without breaking eye contact, Roman reached into his pocket, fumbling for anything he could write on. He pulled out an old receipt, ripping off a scrap and pulling a pen from his jacket. He quickly scribbled down his number, not wanting to think too much into his decision, and then looked at her with a hint of a smirk.

“Call me when you’re sober,” he said, holding the piece of paper between his fingers. Then, with calculated boldness, he slipped it down the front of her dress, making sure to tuck it right between her cleavage, the act intimate yet authoritative.

Nate’s breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening slightly at the cold touch of her enemy’s fingers, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she watched him with a mixture of surprise and amusement. “You Samoans love playing with fire, don’t you?”

“I know,” he replied, before lowering his head one more time, his whisper close enough to allow Nate to embrace the heat of his breath, the combination of whiskey and mint potent. “Almost as much as the Russians, baby girl.”

With that, he clicked his tongue twice and winked, before pulling back. He gave her a once over and turned on his heel, hands making their way into his jean’s back pockets as he headed back to the crowd. But even as he walked away, he could still feel her eyes on him, the knowledge that she had just unintentionally given her family’s number one on their hitlist, priceless information.

But she’d figure that out soon enough.

[take-it-on-the-run]

Claire Novak Playlist

"I kill monsters. That's who the hell I am."

Claire Novak Masterlist | Supernatural Masterlist | Main Page Masterlist

A/N: RAHH I love Claire sm. Also, I wish this was longer, so I'm probably going to add to it if I find any more songs

Francis Forever // Mitski

I don't need the world to see; that I've been the best I can be, but; I don't think I could stand to be; where you can't see me

Lost Cause // Beck

I'm tired of fightin' ; fighting for a lost cause

Make Me Wanna Die // The Pretty Reckless

And everytime I look inside your eyes (I'm burning in the light); you make me wanna die

Sister // She Wants Revenge

You better lie down cause the angels are watching

Brand New City // Mitski

I should move to a brand new city; and teach myself how to die

Carmen // Lana Del Rey

Only seventeen, but she walks the streets so mean; it's alarmin', truly how disarmin', you can be

All I Need // Radiohead

I am a moth; who just wants to share your light; I'm just an insect; trying to get out of the night

Motion Sickness // Phoebe Bridgers

I have emotional motion sickness; somebody roll the windows down; there are no words in the English language; I could scream to drown you out

Gilded Lily // Cults

Always the fool with the slowest heart

Skinny Love // Bon Iver

Come on, skinny love, just last the year; pour a little salt, we were never here

First Love/Late Spring // Mitski

And I was so young when I behaved 25; yet now, I find I've grown into a small child

Working for the Knife // Mitski

I cry at the start of every movie; I guess 'cause I wish I was making things too

Taking What's Not Yours // TV Girl

You know where to find me; and I know where to look

Cinnamon Girl // Lana Del Rey

There's things I wanna say to you; but I'll just let you live; like if you hold me without hurting me; you'll be the first who ever did

[coffeemakerwriter]

GhostSoap playlist

TW’s: suicide, SA, death, depression, grief, abuse mentions, heavy angst with little to no fluff, may be ooc!! Heavy on soaps death!! Please proceed with caution and let me know if I miss any tags!

A/N: I prefer light and fluffy stuff for ghost and soap but :)) I thought this would be fun! I don’t really have any angsty headcanons for them but I kinda just wrote out my thoughts for this :) this is probs super out of character but that’s okay!

Wc: 1k woords!

Reckless driving by Lizzy mcalpaine and Ben Kessler:

I don’t exactly know why this fits, but it makes sense to me in a way, I think in the way that ghost and soap are both reckless, but ghost is reckless in the way he doesn’t care if he died, but I think in a way, he doesn’t want to take soap with him, and I think that’s frustrate soap, that ghost is so willing to risk his life for him that he’d go as far as to kill himself if it was needed. As long as it keeps soap alive.

The Gold - Phobe Bridgers version:

I think of this in the way after the soap's death ghost is different, ‘I don’t think I love you anymore, that gold mine changed you’? That feels like after Soap's death ghost someone says how different he is, closed off, ‘I don’t wanna be me anymore’ could be ghost agonizing on how he feels because of ghosts death and feels guilty about how he’s been acting since and fears it’s damaging his remaining relationships.

Cherry wine - live by Hozier:

Soap to ghost is a spitfire, loud and wild, hard to contain, harsh barks of laughter and his eyes light up at an ability to fight, but he loves when he’s calm too. “Her fight and fury is fiery Oh but she loves Like sleep to the freezing

Sweet and right and merciful I'm all but washed In the tide of her breathing” can be how soft soap is with ghost, how sweet he can be regardless of his bright and fiery personality. He would love him regardless if he was soft or harsh.

Born to die by Lana del rey:

Regardless of whatever timeline you look at, both of them are born to die, never actually destined to be together forever. Either they both die or one is ripped away. Neither get a happy ending.

Johnny boy by Twenty One pilots:

‘Get up Johnny boy’ can be ghost begging soap to get up, getting more and more distraught as he repeats it, the sickening realization that his pride and joy isn’t getting up, because his pride and joy is dead. ‘I will carry all your names, and I will carry all your shame’ can be ghost vowing in some way that even after his death he will make sure he means something, that his death didn’t go in vain and even with his faults and mistakes he will make sure Johnny will be carried on.

Army dreamers by Kate bush:

The entire song can be played on the fact that soap's body is being brought home, that his coffin is being home to his mother and sisters, how they wish he had chosen something else to do instead of being a soldier, an army dreamer. How he died so young, and how he’ll never make it past his 20’s. But even then, he’ll always be his mammy’s hero.

Not strong enough by boygenius:

I think this kinda deals with more so, ghosts grief with soaps death, how he feels empty and doesn’t know why he is the way he is after he dies. ‘Do you see us getting scraped off the pavement?’ Could be in allusion to the fact he thought about killing himself after soap's death, that in some way he felt like it was his fault soap died. And maybe the emptiness he feels going home to shared space, knowing that soap won’t be there anymore, knowing that he’s alone now. Knowing that he’s never coming home.

I bet on losing dogs by mitski

Ghost holding soaps body, cradling his head in his lap, his baby, he’s watching him die, holding his cold, lifeless body. He knew he wasn’t gonna live, how do you survive something like that? That’s a bet you can’t win. He knew he wouldn’t survive, so all he can do is hold him in his last moments and offer comfort in his last moments. Because either way he’s watching him die.

Savior complex by Phobe bridgers:

I think soap wants to help ghost get better, offer him a place of comfort, save him, but ghost isn’t all that open about things. Not his childhood, not roba, and sure as hell not his family. But soap wants to be there for him, show me yours show you mine? He’s willing to be vulnerable with him if only he’d be vulnerable too, soap thinks he will be, with time at least.

Sarah by Alex g:

I don’t really know how to explain this one either, just the fact I feel like ghost would feel like he’s in a dream, constantly seeing Johnny, seeing his face, hearing his voice, running to him, only for him to be woken up just before he can reach him. I feel like ghost would wait for him like a dog, despite knowing he’s gone, he’s not coming back, he still waits. Or atleast waits till he can join him.

All for us by labyrinth:

I feel like Johnny and ghost would do anything for eachother, they love each other so much that they would die for the other. They would risk their careers for each other if it came down to it. Genuinely I think they’d kill for the other if they had to, without a thought.

Feel better by Penelope Scott:

I think ghost found comfort in his unwellness after soap's death, a routine maybe, I think ghost agonized over it not only becaUse of just how close they were in general but because someone had actually loved him, loved him despite his flaws, his issues, despite everything they loved him. I think in a way, he thinks he’s incapable of being loved. But soap disproved that, and the fact that he loved him despite everything made it hurt even more.

Funeral by Phobe bridgers:

Imagine ghost talking at soap's funeral, going to the funeral of someone he cared so deeply about that he didn’t think would die so soon. Imagine him having to talk to his mother, comfort her and tell her how much her son meant to him. And how sometimes he wakes up from nightmares of johnny's death, only weeks after it happened, and how he just has this deep feeling of sadness and emptiness and he can’t help but wonder if it’ll always be like this.

I love you so by the Walter’s:

Imagine ghost seeing soap in a dream, begging soap to stay only for him to tell him he needs to let go, but he’s not ready to yet. He doesn’t want to let him go, he doesn’t want to forget him. He loves him. Why does he want him to forget? He doesn’t want to forget his smile, or the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs. He doesn’t want to forget any of it.

Freaks by Surf Curse:

I feel like ghost dreams about soap a lot after his death. And everytime he dreams of him he hopes he doesn’t wake up, either because he wants to stay with him just a little longer or because he hopes somehow he’ll die in his sleep, so he can finally be at peace.

We’ll never have sex by leith ross:

I feel like ghost has a fear of sexual intimacy or at least some anxiety around it. And he’s afraid that soap will want to initiate that sort of stuff with him, and he’s worried that soap will leave him when he finds out that he doesn’t like sex all that much, or that can make him uncomfortable at times. He's in therapy for sure, but that doesn’t make it completely go away. But I think Johnny would be understanding, willing to listen to him when he explains how sometimes it makes him uncomfortable. I don’t think Johnny would do anything to make ghost uncomfortable on purpose. I do think he’d make sure ghost is comfortable with anything sexual.

Mr. Loverman by Ricky Montgomery:

I think this is just mainly ghost missing Johnny, maybe drinking too much one night, agonizing on how much he misses him, what he could’ve done differently, and if he got there sooner, could he have saved him? Would he be sitting here beside him instead of in an urn?

Like real people do by Hozier:

I think this is just them learning to love, being soft with each other, about how they met, I don’t think soap would ask very many questions about ghosts' childhood, I think he’d figure out pretty early on that it wasn’t a good one. I think he’d let him speak about it when he was ready, when he felt safe to do so. I think in a way he’d feel a sad bitterness when he sees ghost exhibit behaviors he learned from his childhood, like walking quietly, doing things to please him when he got upset, things to make him happy. I think that’s when Johnny would connect the dots, that he didn’t have a good childhood. I think regardless of that though, Johnny would treat him with the care he deserves, and I think ghost would do the same too.

Nothings new by Rio Romeo:

I think ghost would settle in this emptiness that he felt like he could never get out of, this never ending feeling that nothing will ever change, that he will always feel empty now that soap is dead.

Sunlight by Hozier:

I think soap and ghost do make eachother happy, that they work well together as a couple, that they have boundaries that are good and they communicate well. Soap his ghosts sunlight and he’d die on that hill. Soap means everything to ghost and soap is the same way with him. I feel like they make eachother better as people and learn to better themselves for the other. Because they WANT to make their relationship work.

J’s lullaby (darlin’ I’d wait for you) by Delaney Bailey:

I think in a way, ghost will always wait for soap to come back, he’s always gonna hope for him to come through their front door after a deployment, and curl himself into his side and rest their for the rest of the night. Logically he knows that won’t happen, but he’d give anything for it to. Because he’d do anything for his Johnny.

[inyri]

❛ why does it feel like this is goodbye? ❜ from the sentence starters 👀

 (I’m not sure if we’ll get here in long form- I’d thought so once, but given the current pace of my writing I suspect I’ll bring Equivalent Exchange to a natural close before we reach this point in the story, then continue Nine and Theron’s tale in shorter pieces. It's a bit of a cheat, but that's authorial prerogative for you.

Something lost is found. SWTOR. Nine/Theron.)

*

She sits on the edge of the bed, looking up at Theron as he scuffs nervously at the floor with the toe of his boot. (Stars, she’s missed this bed, missed this whole apartment even if she doesn’t miss the Kaasi rain falling in sheets against the windows or the periodic assassination attempts- but ah, the view from the balcony toward the sea-)

“You look,” she finally says, considering his expression carefully, “like the tooka that ate the bulabird. What exactly did you do while I was off with Acina?”

He turns to make sure the door’s closed before he answers. “Oh, you know. Took a tour of the place. Sliced a few things- databases, mostly. Census data. Population records. The Intelligence database, for about ten seconds.”

“You-” she chokes. The fact that he’s still standing here means he probably got away with it, but- “I thought I told you to behave yourself. If they figure out what you did- I know you’re not keen on parallel work with the Empire, Theron-”

“I didn’t get caught.” He rolls his eyes and rummages in his jacket pocket for his commpad. “I didn’t get caught last time either, for what it’s worth, but I did find what I was looking for.” 

(Last time? That’s- oh, lovely brilliant reckless idiot boy, he’s going to get himself into far more trouble than she can fix one of these years.)

She raises an eyebrow as he holds the commpad out toward her. 

“I found you.”

She gestures up and down along her body. “Of course you did. I’m right here. I know that mess with Lorman looked like a near enough miss, but-”

Theron shakes his head vehemently, pressing it into her hand and curling her fingers closed around it. “No, you don’t understand. I found you- pre-Cipher you. In the archives.”

“Impossible.” Or it ought to have been; after Hunter she’d watched the Minister purge her file with her own eyes and even then there was nothing left of an old life in it, nothing left but a ghost. The Ghost. “Not in the Intelligence database. They burn all that out when we CIpher.”

“Not in the Intelligence database, no.” He crouches down next to her as her heart twists in her chest. It ought to have been impossible. It ought to have been. “But I followed a thread from the personnel records, and then another and then another and then I found this. Imperial Academy prospective cadet interview number 00-828317. Locked subfolder, but-” he shrugs.    

The number doesn’t hurt. They didn’t take that from her, before, but there’s a pressure building behind her eyes- too close to something that they did, then. Far too close. She takes a deep breath. “Did you see it?”

“Only the first few seconds, and not with audio- didn’t want Lana to notice before I could pull it off the network. She looks like you, though.” 

“I suppose she would.” She lets the commpad settle on her lap, looks down at it like it might bite. (It might.) 

After a moment Theron stands. “I should go. You don’t have to decide if you want to watch it now- I shouldn’t have assumed-” 

“No,” she says, reaches up for his hand without looking and her fingers lace through his. “Stay.”

He sits down beside her; she presses play. 

[she is eleven years old.

she is eleven years old and wearing a white blouse and a black skirt and her hair in two neat plaits down her back and she is standing, hands folded, in front of a table where four men and a woman sit in identical uniforms, backs to the camera. 

we’ll begin, says the man second from right. please state your name for the record.

she nods, and opens her mouth. mustn’t smile too much or they’ll think she’s silly, mustn’t pull at her plait or at her shirtsleeves, mustn’t-]

(oh Void oh Void oh Void it HURTS and he holds on to her- should I stop it? I can stop it- and she shakes her head furiously so he just keeps holding on)

[yes, sir, she says. it is important to show respect, father said. my name is N-]

It’s impossible. It’s impossible. 

It’s her name. 

She does stop the recording then, not because she wants to but because she’s going to bleed all over his damned commpad if she doesn’t. Her nose drips down onto her shirt until she pinches it closed and then she turns her head toward Theron as he mutters apology after apology into the top of her head. “I had a feeling,” she murmurs, “that was going to happen.”

“So that’s your name? N-” he almost says it aloud but stops himself, free hand pressed against his mouth. “Stars, I'm sorry. I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“It may get easier with time. We can try more of the video later- I only remember a little bit. I thought it might all come back at once, but-”

Theron nods. “I hope so- that it gets easier, I mean. That it comes back. But your name, it… it suits you.”

“Does it?”

“Yeah.” He kisses her hair, then her forehead, then the tip of her nose beneath her still-pinching fingers. “Though it’s weird- why does this almost feel like a goodbye?”

“To Cipher Nine? No. it's not-” she shakes her head. “It’s- hello, Theron Shan. My name-” she breathes in and the pain lessens and it wouldn’t matter anyway, all the pain in the universe would be worth it to see that look on his face again and again- “is Nyriala.”

[bubbledtee]

𝐎𝐮𝐭𝐥𝐚𝐰!𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

Warnings: mentions of violence typical to the Wild West.

Summary: Headcanons of early 90s!james as an outlaw in the Wild West.

A/N: this made me so happy to write guys I'm def gonna make this like a series probably ^-^ (also this is for @31-4am 🤭🤭 here you go lana)

He’ll act big and tough whenever necessary, but deep down that man is just a big teddy bear who’s just done a few unspeakable things.

He keeps to himself quite a bit, though he does have a big voice when needed.

He keeps to himself quite a bit, though he does have a big voice when needed.

(For scaring away both animals and men who lay hands on their women and children)

At 6’ 4”, he’s taller than just about everyone he’s ever surrounded by, so he’s hardly bothered when riding through town, following up on leads.

Because of his sheer size and strength, he’s often written off as a big dumb brute.

Which, most of the time, is not an assumption that is all that wrong.

“Goddamnit, where the hell is my hat? I swear, I just had it!”

“It’s on your damn head, dumbass.”

However, he does have his moments of intelligence.

For example, he knows exactly how to, despite his huge appearance, be so quiet and invisible that people in saloons will talk about things like trains and coach routes that are carrying bonds right next to him and not even second guess that he might be listening in. He just always is leaned over, head down with his hat covering half of his face while he sips his beer, somehow being both the largest and smallest person in the room at the same time.

He’s also extremely smart when it comes to animals. Wildlife, livestock, dogs, horses, pretty much all animals, he seems to have unlimited knowledge.

At around 15 when he learned to read after he was picked up by the gang he’s in, one of the first books he really read through was a book on natural history and that really sparked his interest in not just hunting, but the appreciation of the wildlife as well.

And every horse he’s ever had was always treated almost perfectly by him. 

They were always fat, happy, and loved.

If any of them were ever stolen (which a few have been in the past.), he’s felt like he needed to go find them.

And he did find them every time.

And every time that he’s had to put down his own horse, it would leave him broken for months, even if he didn’t show it.

It’s his heart of gold that makes him so soft for animals, and sometimes he curses himself for it.

Finally, James’s gunslinging skills are practically flawless, too.

Most people think he’d be too big and clumsy to be able to quickdraw well, so whenever he’s challenged to a duel, both his opponent and bystanders are ready to see him shot straight through the chest.

Though, it never happens.

He’ll always be way too quick for his opponent, and thus he wins every duel he’s apart of.

He doesn’t duel as much as he’s gotten older, though. It was more of a reckless, adrenaline-filling thing he did in his late teens and early twenties, but he realizes just how much he has to provide now that he’s older and higher in the gang, so he’ll only duel if absolutely necessary.

[jelliefishhhh]

hii!!

do you maybe have any agere hcs for any character(s) from pokemon sun and moon?

:3

I very much do!

I think Lillie and Gladion are both flips regressor leaning

They don’t play together often and Gladion isn’t very open about his regression neither is Lillie to be honest, either sibling is the only one who knows about it.

Lillie cannot stand being touched while she is regressed, she will start screaming and honestly good for her. She mostly does colouring activities in her room and sometimes plays with snowy

Gladion likes to go places where baby’s should not go, such as tall mountains and deep into Forrest’s luckily Silvally is there to keep an eye on him because he is incredibly reckless.

and even more grumpy when little than thought possible

little Gladion likes wearing lots and lots of layers even if it’s really hot outside because he likes the pressure from it

Lana is a flip caregiver leaning but when she does regress she actually becomes quite scared if the water, she still wants to go in the ocean but she’ll cry if she gets wet which can be quite an ordeal for her caregivers to deal with

I hope you enjoyed these!

[hunterssm00n]

Candy Necklace

Yandere! Sheriff OC / part 2 /

You’ve been actin’ pretty reckless / Dancing like the young and restless / And I’m obsessed with this / All his candy necklaces…

*cw include stalking, yandere behavior, abuse of authority, obsession, and dark themes* MDNI - 18+

♡˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ♡

hunterssm00n © All rights reserved by me. I do not allow this work to be used or adapted in any way without my permission.

The drive into work is uneventful, thankfully, and she pulls into her usual spot behind the warehouse building, gathering her bags and coffee before heading inside to start the day. She barely makes it to the clock-in station before she's intercepted by a coworker, who nearly crashes into Kelli in her haste. “Oh! There you are! I’m glad I caught you- I wanna be the first to hear the juicy details! So,” A grin crosses her face, making her look almost devilish, “who is he?”

Kelli is thoroughly confused; who is who ? What is her coworker even talking about? She shakes her head, remembering that she still needs to clock in for her shift, but first asking, “What do you mean?”

The other woman, Grace, rolls her eyes playfully at Kelli, like she's the one being silly. “The flowers! And don’t try to play it off like it’s nothing; own that shit, girl! If a man bought me roses I’d be walking around like a damn queen all day.”

This doesn’t serve as any explanation whatsoever. Flowers? For her? From wh-

Oh, fuck .

“Um,” She tries to think of something to say, and the other woman is looking at her expectantly, like she's supposed to be disclosing something. Any 'juicy details'. “W-Where are they?” Kelli finally musters out. She has to look at them. Has to see them for herself.

Grace eyes her knowingly, and motions for her to follow, “We put them in the break room; you can leave them there for the day if you want, and just take them when you go. But they are pretty big, so hopefully nobody wants to eat lunch at the table-“

Kelli is barely listening to her, mind racing at a thousand times a second. Are they- No, they can’t be from him. Can they? But who else would they be from? They might not even be for me; there’s no use in getting all worked up until I know they’re actually mine.

Grace leads her into the break room around the corner, pointing at the table- rather, at the large bouquet of beautiful, red roses sitting on the table. Oh, god.

The woman next to her is still babbling, but now Kelli is not listening at all. She approachs the table, hand outstretched towards the card attached to the crystal clear vase. It's connected by a beaded bracelet or necklace, with pink hearts that almost look like sweet, crunchy candy. Anticipating, anticipating, it’s like she's moving in slow motion. She takes the small card between her fingers, gently turning it to read what’s written on the front.

Her name. It says her name.

Kelli feels the blood drain from her face, and before she can think twice, she opens the card to read the inside. Vaguely, she can hear Grace saying something about so jealous, where’d you find a guy like that?

The inside has messy, scrawled masculine handwriting, and the words are a bit difficult to make out at first. But it reads: You may not realize how extraordinary you are, but I do. Forever yours, Ray.

Her face heats at the note, and she's both surprised and ashamed to realize that the feeling isn’t entirely unpleasant. What’s wrong with me? Am I sick like him?

And possibly the most shocking revelation: How does he know where I work?

♡˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ♡

This is an original work of mine, as are the characters.

I do not own the song 'Candy Necklace' by Lana Del Rey. The above picture is from pinterest, and there's a link attached to the original post.