#and out of the prying eyes of the gang they get to indulge and love and dip and dance and laugh and sing

[javierduffy]

if i don’t draw javieran dancing when i get home from work i fear i may die

[octopotto]

Brain Rot: TWST Cast with Saitama! Reader

OCTO NOTE: College has been absolutely brutal. These headcanons were worked on bit by bit these past few months :(

I saw some TWST fics that used pre-exsiting characters to based the MC off of and I wanted to try w/ one of my favourite characters.

WARNINGS: NOT PROOF-READ, OOC Behaviour, this is so cringe but very self-indulgent, mc is the most sane person in this universe, you decide if mc is bald or not, yandere if you squint hard enough.

SPOILERS FOR: TWISTED WONDERLAND

**The reader will ALWAYS be Gender-Neutral! 

———————————-••———————————

Life at Night Raven College would be much more peaceful if MC had Saitama’s strength lol

Problems would've been solved quicker as well.

At first glance, you don’t seem to be a threat.

To most, you look like a regular, magic-less human on the outside.

And that’s what makes you so dangerous.

Don’t fuck around and overblot unless you have a death wish.

The Overblot crew definitely had one when MC swung their fist at them.

The whole prologue would be shortened.

Fun fact: You accidentally put too much force on the coffin door to get out, thus smashing Grim in the process while he was prying it open :D

Grim, the Ramshackle ghost, and Crowley were the first group to witness your impressive strength.

And by impressive, they mean terrifying.

To Crowley and Grim at least.

The ghost were shocked but very much amused after a couple moments.

God knows how the Ramshackle Dorm was still in one piece after that.

Grim is very happy to have a strong minion to protect him

Just don’t hurt him like you did with the ghost pls. And the door lol

Crowley would be most likely absolutely be afraid and made a mental note to keep track of you. 

Especially since you were almost successful to killing him in his ghost form. He’s making sure that Ramshackle gets fixed quicker.

Crowley: “Great Sevens… How do they have such monstrous strength... This stowaway is just a magicaless human! My…what have I gotten myself into?? *sobs* OH IF I WASN’T SUCH A KIND AND GENEROUS SOUL I WOULD NOT LET THIS TYPE OF BEHAVIOUR BE PRESENT ON MY CAMPUS” *more obnoxious sobbing*

You and Grim: 😶😐????

Despite scaring and almost killing the shit out of the Headmaster, you still start off as a janitor lol.

Fast forward to the Mine Incident with Ace, Deuce, and Grim—

You basically massacred that monster.

A monster that probably injured many Mages and Wizards

You destroyed it in one punch.

On that day, Ace reminded himself to never piss you off again. Ever.

He loves cherry pie, but would rather not become the filling itself, thanks.

Deuce probably was gawking at you after the shock.

Not in a bad way

But in a good way y'know?

But he’s too shy to ask for advice for now.

This is basically the start of Deuce idolizing you and your strength.

Brain Rot:

Ace, Deuce and Grim are your self-proclaimed bodyguards.

At least THEY like to think that they are.

Listen, they know that you are MORE THE CAPABLE protecting yourself in fights or in any physical confrontations.

But that’s it.

You’re basically shit at everything else.

From completing your assignments to even showing up to class, it seems like in the trio's eyes that you NEED THEM to take care of you. You all are like family now!

So they all make an effort to help you out when you need it.

No really, if you keep forgetting to submit that one potion essay that Crewel keeps smacking your shiny ass head to complete, you’re going to get left behind.

 They’re more like secretaries than bodyguards lol.

The post-overblot Spelldrive tournament was an absolute nightmare.

Well, at least for everyone but Ace, Deuce, and Grim.

They were GLOATING about how they were in the lead and challenged anyone to try and top them like the smug, over-confident assholes they are.

The only reason why they were in the lead was because of you. Simple as that.

The Savannaclaw gang put up a good fight

For the first 10 minutes in the match.

All Leona could do at that moment was strategize how not to get his and his teammate’s heads chopped off by the disc you kept throwing at them.

You are quite fond of Ruggie

More specifically: you were fond of Ruggie’s haggling skills.

If were had a choice to trade your god-like strength for his haggling skills and techniques, you wouldn’t hesitate one bit.

And y’know it wouldn’t be Ruggie if he didn’t take advantage of this. He would offer you advice and tell you if theres a huge sale going on at a near-by grocery store if you promise to lend him a hand whenever he needed it.

You were so tempted to say no

Not because he was shady and overall untrustworthy

You’re just lazy

This is his way to spend more time with you but he would never admit that out-loud.

If your MC is bald, instead of Floyd squeezing you, he will smack and ‘dribble’ your head as if it was basketball.

Jamil and Ace especially are amused.

God forbid you ever get a bad tan on the top of your scalp

You will NEVER hear to end of it.

Floyd also is your biggest bully.

jk but not really

Yeah he knows that you could probably kill him with a gentle tap

But when did that ever stop him?

He mainly does it because he wants to see your reactions

You’re so plain looking and your nonchalant voice and facial expressions do not help as well.

But remember only Floyd HIMSELF can do those things to you, okay? Only him.

If he ever finds out that some random NPC student was doing the same thing to you, You’re going to be finding that NPC tossed in a corner somewhere with almost all their joints mangled.

You like how generous Kalim is.

You probably helped him fan the fire off his ass in the ceremony

He’s was incredibly thankful and was able to remember what you looked like.

I mean, you literally saved him!

How could he not remember you?

You don't remember him but let’s not go there lol

Because you saved Kalim from being cooked, he always makes sure that you had enough food for the month!

He would practically beg, like BEG Jamil to make extras so you won’t go hungry.

Especially after experiencing what type of living conditions you were dealing with in Book 5.

Poor Jamil, not only is he working overtime for Kalim, but technically serving food for the person who ruined his plans back in Book 4.

Jamil packing food for you by Kalim’s request: 😡😡😡

totally did not try to poison your food on several occasions

Kalim also begs Jamil to let him deliver the food to you.

He can’t help it! He really enjoys seeing you happy when you receive something from him and Jamil.

You never complain about.

Free food = Saving money.

I mean, if you're being gifted something, why be rude and deny it?

Some students say that you were taking advantage of Kalim because of how easily you accept his gifts without anything in return.

And y'know they could be right

But Kalim doesn't mind.

As long as you're happy, he's happy :)

In Vil’s eyes, you are an enigma. 

It’s like he can’t wrap his pretty little head around on how he feels about you.

On one hand, other than your god-like strength, you’re nothing special. When he first saw you he only disregarded you as another potato that’s not worth his precious time and effort on.

But on the other hand, Vil sees you as a blank slate. Something that ASKING for him to put his smooth and perfectly manicured fingers on. Someone that needs his guidance and skills. 

He doesn’t care if you’re bald or have hair, it doesn’t derail him from the fact that despite you sticking out like a sore-thumb, you’re still so…plain looking.

You probably said some off-hand comment about how ‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder’ to Vil and just walked off.

It might not meant anything to you

But it meant a lot to Vil.

When it came to the overblots and eventually Book 5, he felt as though he was in a spiral of questions that he himself must find the answers for.

And what were the questions that caused Vil’s current state of disarray about? You obviously.

He’s going mad

He can’t stand it.

You said that beauty is in the eye of the holder? Fine then.

He knows that he could do something for you. 

Something marvellous, something beautiful.

For you and himself. 

You had a new nickname for Malleus every time you guys end up running into eachother.

Malleus would always look forward to meeting you solely for the nicknames.

I believe that Saitama genuinely does not care enough to remember other people’s names that much

So that will be a trait for MC in this.

Malleus probably thinks this is a way humans show affection to each other.

In reality, you cannot for the life of you remember that weirdo's name.

Malleus: *Appears out of thin air in front of the MC*

Malleus: Greetings, Child of Man *smiles*

MC Thinking: ‘Why does this rando keep coming back? What was his name again?’

Malleus: *Anticipating their response with excitement*

MC: Uhhhh..

MC: Wassup…Horton? :D

Malleus: *Smiles at his new nickname*

It took a while for you to come up with a permanent nickname for him but he doesn't mind

In his eyes, it's your way of showing him how much you wanted to become closer companions.

Jack and Epel are always on your ass about “How to become stronger” and when you actually tell them the routine that you did at the beginning of your journey, they literally fell in disbelief.

They couldn’t believe it.

It was basically a simple workout routine 

Both still believe that you’re hiding the secret of how you got to your level of strength.

Thus, joint workouts became also a thing within the NRC Campus and you are the leader.

Not by choice however.

Jack, Epel, and everyone else involved were really curious as to how you train.

I mean, look at what you can do! And you’re not even a Mage!

The first meeting was terrible due to the fact you almost obliterated the school.

One flick and the gym could’ve been in shambles.

That’s why Jack and Epel made sure to do it somewhere far and secluded.

And even then, you still created a lot of damage with minimal effort.

It’s incredible to those who look up to you.

Throughout the story, you gained some admiration and recognition along the way.

From Heartslaybul to Diasomnia, you unknowingly grab the admiration of those who either want to become stronger or see you as a hero. 

Some might say that they see you as the messiah who was sent to protect the school.

But let’s not go that far.

You wouldn’t notice anyways

In your eyes they're all a bunch of weirdos.

———————————-••———————————

OCTO NOTE: Hopefully you guys enjoyed these very terrible brain-rot headcanons. I always found Saitama’s character interesting so I wanted to try out something new. 

Again, I’ve been very busy so I can’t promise anything BUT I can say that there will be more Yandere FF7 fics coming soon! ;)

Thank you to everyone who enjoys my low-quality works! Hope you look forward to my new ones ❤️❤️

[devilgem]

random assortment of gary hcs 🌟🎹🎵

(contains mostly self indulgent stuff, with a pinch of attempted character dissection based on what little we have of him. there’s a bit suggestive stuff in here so; minors do not interact ‼️)

🌟— his figure is well trimmed thanks to maintaining an active lifestyle (hitting the gym/working out at home, regularly competing in sports- to name a few instances). he’s slightly bulkier in contrast to his teenage & young adult self, but by no means is he ripped 

🌟— doesn’t go by any labels but he’s technically pan 💖💛💙

🌟— he is a switch and a vers, feels the need to switch things up every so often otherwise he’d be bored to death. 👍 can play up whatever persona(?) depending on what his partner(s) want or his mood in the moment. 

🌟— he’s a great fuck, trust (my source is s5e33) 

🌟— in case it wasn’t obvious in some of my pieces, gary loves his vibrant lipstick💋 also likes leaving kiss marks on his partners. he probs owns different colors to match whatever fit he’s wearing that day, but it’s mostly shades of blue 

🌟— he works part time as a model in art schools across the galaxy as one of the myriad jobs/hobbies he has going on 

🌟— he’s gatekeepy of his cooking recipes (sorta canon already). nobody is ever prying them out of him, even if they are his most trusted person in the universe 😭 he’d be happy to cook for his friends if they asked though 

🌟— he’d care quite a bit whether his loved ones were eating well or not + has a good eye for their preferences! every now and then he stops by the park to drop off homemade meals for his buddies 

🌟— his synthesizer is severely outdated and could not care less about upgrading it into a manageable size (see more about it further below!). never asked about it because he didn’t want to spend any more time on synthos than he already had against his will 😭

🌟— while i do feel he is sincere in believing his people shouldn’t be bound by the uptight rules david imposed… i also like to think the abdication was done at least partially for himself. 

🌟— he has issues with taking on long term responsibilities, if forfeiting the crown the first time around 200+ years ago is anything to go by. he is also deeply averse to being blindly revered by the masses (or even by just one person) and cannot stand people who revel in blind worship. 

🌟— i dunno for sure yet, but he prolly hightailed it outta synthos as a teenager bc he gives teenage runaway vibes imo.

🌟— not really a hc but holy FUCK how incredibly fruity of gary to leave his synth with skips of all people. what if i entrusted the item that is the literal source of my life in your hands for 200+ years… and we were both boy best friends. okay count fagula i see you 👀🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈 /silly 

🌟— when he was a kid, gary had a habit of throwing up whenever he got distressed real bad. he’s gotten a hang of his nerves as he grew older so it takes a lot to get him truly stressing about something nowadays. not that you’d be able to tell anyways, especially if you’re not familiar w the subtle side of his mannerisms. he’d just deadpan rlly hard until he finds some opportunity to slip away to someplace private to cough up the contents of his stomach.

🌟— what i’m trying to get at here: after the events of the synth ep, once the gang arrived at the mall, gary had to excuse himself for a bit and then strut back to his friends like nothing was wrong 👍 being made to return to ur native planet sooner than you ever planned and coming forward to forfeit the crown for good, unsure if ur ppl would even receive the news well can take a toll. also there’s the whole indirect brother murdering thing but i’ll save that for another time once i have it fleshed out. 

ft. some general synthizen hc’s: 🎶

🌟— synthizens are totally infertile & their junk exists purely for pleasure. they have other means of reproducing (probably via building a new synth & projecting a baby upon activation if its a synth couple; remixing their “soundwaves” into a new being if its a cross-species couple… still thinking about this)

🌟— from birth, the gradients on their arms & legs start from the tips of their digits and progressively spreads upwards as they get older, stopping just under the elbows/knees at adulthood. 

🌟— their junk matches the colors of their limb gradients sorry i just had to throw it out there. it’s also very alien-like at full mast. 

🌟— the fact the majority of synthizens we’ve seen have synths they can carry around with ease makes me think they developed the technology to upgrade them into manageable sizes during gary’s absence. gary is and will continue to be the (probably) sole outlier to this

[zapreportsblog]

MARKINGS

➥ a/n: this is based off this post by @miggyyyyohara

➥ summary: Miguel’s friends happen to see the marks his girlfriend left on his back

The city skyline glowed with the vibrant lights of New York City as the Spider Team, comprised of Peter Parker, also known as Spider-Man, and his friends Miguel O'Hara and Jessica Drew, prepared to embark on a thrilling mission. They had received intel about a gang of thieves targeting a nearby bank, and it was up to the trio to put an end to their nefarious plans.

•••

Inside a dimly lit room, Miguel rummaged through his backpack, searching for his Spider-Man suit. His friends watched intently, eager to get started on their mission. As he pulled out the red and blue costume, his back was inadvertently exposed to the light.

Peter's sharp eyes caught sight of peculiar marks on Miguel's back. "Hey, Miguel," Peter said teasingly, with a mischievous grin. "What's with the multiple hickies on your back? Been having some secret admirers lately?"

Jessica, unable to contain her laughter, chimed in. "And those claw-like marks, Miguel. Are you indulging in some strange hobbies?"

Miguel froze, caught off guard. As he swiftly concealed his back, he let out a nervous chuckle. "Oh, I forgot about those. It's nothing, guys, just harmless accidents." He hoped they wouldn't pry any further into the matter.

Peter and Jessica exchanged incredulous glances, playfully taunting their friend further. "Accidents, you say? Each one perfectly placed in a line? Truly, Miguel, if you're trying to hide something, you're not doing a very good job," Peter teased, raising an eyebrow.

Reluctantly, Miguel turned to face his friends, deciding that honesty was the best approach. "Okay, okay, you got me. It's not what you think. The truth is, I've been seeing someone recently. Things got a little... intense," he confessed sheepishly.

Jessica's eyes widened, her curiosity piqued. "Intense, huh? Do tell, Miguel. Who's the lucky person responsible for those marks?"

Miguel's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he hesitated. "Do you promise not to make a big deal about it? It's a complicated situation."

Peter and Jessica exchanged another glance before nodding in unison. "We promise, Miguel. We'll keep quiet, cross our hearts."

Relieved at their understanding, Miguel took a deep breath. "Alright, her name is (y/n), and she's a bit...wild. Those marks are from the moments when things got, well, passionate."

Peter couldn't help but burst into laughter, struggling to compose himself. Jessica, a playful smirk spreading across her face, teased, "So, not only are you secretly seeing someone, you've been bitten by the lovebug, quite literally."

Miguel playfully rolled his eyes, a soft smile gracing his lips. "Yeah, yeah, get your laughs out. It's all in good fun, guys. But please, no more teasing. (Y/n) and I have an agreement to keep our relationship discreet, so things don't get complicated with our lives as Spider-People."

Both Peter and Jessica sobered up, their amusement fading. They understood the need for secrecy in the realm of superheroes.

Peter placed a hand on Miguel's shoulder, his voice filled with empathy. "We get it, Miguel. Relationships can be complicated, especially when you're trying to protect the ones you love. Just remember, we're here for you, no matter what."

Jessica nodded in agreement, a soft and reassuring smile gracing her face. "Exactly, Miguel. We may be superheroes, but we're also friends. We'll always support you, no matter what secrets you have."

Miguel's heart warmed at the acceptance and understanding of his friends. He realized that he was fortunate to have them in his life. With renewed confidence, he zipped up his Spider-Man suit, ready to face the challenges ahead.

As the trio swung from building to building, ready to thwart the criminals' plans, the memory of their lighthearted teasing lingered in the air. The marks hidden beneath Miguel's costume served as a reminder of the whirlwind of passion in his life. And with the knowledge that his friends had his back, both figuratively and literally, Miguel knew he could face any challenge that awaited him - whether it was battling supervillains or navigating the complexities of love.

•••

Miguel entered his home, his heart still racing from the exhilarating mission he had just completed. The weight of his gear lifted as he stepped through the door, eager to be reunited with his girlfriend, (Y/n). The anticipation of seeing her brought a playful smirk to his lips.

As he made his way into the living room, he caught sight of (Y/n), who was engrossed in a book. Her eyes flickered up as she sensed his presence, a smile spreading across her face. The sight of her filled Miguel with warmth and affection.

"Hey there, beautiful," Miguel greeted, his voice laced with a hint of mischief. He closed the distance between them, his movements purposeful and confident. He positioned himself behind (Y/n), caging her between the wall and his arms, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

(Y/n) looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "What's got you so playful today, Miguel?" she asked, her voice filled with anticipation.

Miguel's smirk widened as he leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "Well, my dear, it seems that my friends couldn't help but notice the marks you left on my back during our... passionate encounters," he whispered, his voice tinged with a playful tone.

(Y/n)'s cheeks flushed as she recalled the heated moments they had shared. She glanced around nervously, realizing that the walls may not be soundproof. "Miguel, that's embarrassing!" she exclaimed, trying to suppress her laughter.

Miguel chuckled softly, his arms tightening around her. "Oh, come on, don't be shy, love. They're just jealous that I have someone as amazing as you," he reassured, his voice filled with genuine affection.

He leaned back slightly, capturing her gaze with his own, his eyes filled with adoration. "But you know, (Y/n), payback is a funny thing. Since my friends have seen the marks you've left on me, it's only fair that I return the favor, don't you think?" he teased.

(Y/n) raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "Oh, really? And how do you plan to repay the favor?" she asked, a hint of anticipation in her voice.

Miguel's smirk turned into a full-blown grin as he leaned closer, his lips brushing against her ear. "I have a few ideas in mind," he whispered, his voice filled with playful intent.

With that, Miguel let out a playful laugh, releasing (Y/n) from his gentle grasp. He took her hand and led her to their bedroom, where they could enjoy the privacy and intimacy they both craved.

The rest of the evening was filled with laughter, affection, and the sweet reciprocation of pleasure between Miguel and (Y/n). Their playful banter and shared intimacy served as a reminder of the deep connection they shared.

As they lay entwined in each other's arms, basking in the afterglow of their passionate moments, Miguel pressed a gentle kiss against (Y/n)'s forehead. "You always know how to make me feel special, (Y/n). I'm grateful to have you in my life," he whispered, his voice filled with love and gratitude.

(Y/n) smiled, her heart full, as she looked up at Miguel. "And I'm grateful to have you, Miguel. You bring joy and excitement into my life," she replied, her voice soft and sincere.

In that moment, as they lay together, their bodies intertwined and their souls connected, Miguel and (Y/n) cherished the bond they had forged. They knew that their love and playful moments would continue to fuel their relationship, bringing them closer with each passing day.

[gyunmireu]

same anon again here 🙏🏻🙏🏻i am here to humbly ask for another request… since in the manhwa jun asks for something sweet after drinking the medicine… 🙏🏻maybe something about giving him some candy?? 🤞🏻🤞🏻🤞🏻🤞🏻as always u r my goat… thank you again…

sweet love | dokgo jun

Fandom: Best Teacher Baek

Pairing: Dokgo Jun x GN! Reader

Word Count: 800~

Genre: Fluff

A/n: this might have been the fastest I have written a request, haha! I am kinda obsessed with how cute Jun is when he gets embarrassed lol, it ended up probably making him a little ooc but I think he would be a very shy and straightforward person in love so it would end up with him feeling embarrassed a lot around his crush.

this is technically set at the end of ch. 69! if this wasn't what you had in mind anon, let me know and I'll try to write something else (I wasn't sure how to involve candy ><) I hope you like this!

also available on ao3!

A gentle knock on the door startled Jun awake. You were standing in the doorway, looking apologetic as the blonde scrambled to sit up.

"Did I wake you up?" You asked in a soft voice, careful not to be loud. His wounds were getting better but you never know if he might be sensitive to loud noises, considering how he was just startled.

"No, I was just thinking," Jun flushed, embarrassed that he had actually dozed off for a few minutes while thinking. "I wasn't asleep!"

"Sure," you indulged in his lie and just smiled to yourself. "Can I come in?"

"Of course!" Jun hastened to reply, gesturing to the seat Gang had vacated a day before. No one else had dropped by after he had gone to talk to Mr. Baek and while the quiet was peaceful and good for recovery, it was very uncommon when around the students of Baek Suryong. "If you don't mind me asking… where is everyone?"

"There's been… a situation," you said as you sat down. "You don't need to worry about it. You should focus on your recovery."

Jun paused. It clearly wasn't something minor. You looked a little upset while talking about it and he didn't like seeing you like that. It made him uneasy. But you didn't want to speak about it so he wouldn't pry too much.

"Is everyone taking care of the situation then?" He asked carefully. You just nodded. "Then… how come you didn't go with them?"

"Oh!" Your cheeks tinted a light pink at that, and you looked down at the bowl of medicine you had held in your hands the whole time. "I… I thought someone should stay back to check on you. Not, not that you need it! I was just, worried, I guess, and I trust Mr. Baek to handle the other problem so I thought I could stay back and make sure you're healing properly– sorry! I'm rambling."

You squeezed your eyes shut, and Jun noted how your fingers were practically digging into the bowl. You looked nervous and embarrassed for some reason. He should say something to make you comfortable…

"I appreciate it," he settled on those words after thinking for a few seconds. You opened your eyes and peeked at him curiously. "Thank you for staying behind for me. Is that the same medicine from yesterday?"

"Yeah," you held it out to him. Jun reached out to take it and his hand gently wrapped around the bowl, overlapping on your fingers. The innocent touch made both of you flush and you practically pushed the bowl into his hands. Snapping your hands back to yourself, you just said a quick, "There is some more left for tomorrow as well."

"Right."

Jun stared down at his reflection in the murky colours, swallowing down the lump in his throat. He could still taste the bitterness of it from yesterday.

"I almost forgot!"

Your sudden exclamation made him look up. He watched as you drew something from your pockets and held it out to him. In your hands were a few pieces of… candy?

"I heard from Gang that you were complaining about the bitterness," you explained.

"I wasn't complaining!" Jun felt embarrassed. That Gang was really destroying his image in front of you! You giggled at his defensive retort.

"So I thought you might like some candy after it," you finished with a warm smile. The sight of it was enough to make Jun's heart throb a little faster and louder and he hurried to down the medicine so you wouldn't notice his rapidly reddening cheeks. You always got his insides wrecking so easily. "Woah there, slow down. There's no rush."

Jun dropped the empty bowl on his lap, face scrunched lightly from the bitterness. He took one of the candies you were offering and popped it into his mouth, the sweetness helping to smooth over the aftertaste.

"Good?" You tilted your head in question.

"Mm," Jun gave you a small smile of his own. He watched your eyes crinkle as you returned it with your own sweet smile. "Thank you for the candy. It was exactly what I needed."

"I'll make some more for you next time," you promised, placing the remaining next to his bed. Jun looked at you in surprise.

"You made the candy?" He watched a light flush crawl across the tip of your ears and down your neck.

"I like making candy once in a while," you shrugged. "It was the only one I had on me at the moment… I hope it didn't taste weird!"

"No, it was really good," he smiled at you. Inside, his heart was beating too fast again. He got to eat your own handmade candy?! Lucky! "When you say next time… How long will I have to wait?"

You paused and looked at him with wide eyes. He had said it a little teasingly but you seemed to have taken it seriously. Before Jun could correct it, your lips curled into a smile.

"Maybe until Valentine's?"

°•❀•°

a/n: I don't think Valentine's exists in their world but let's pretend it does because I was lost on how to end this 🙏🏻

all likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! ♡

[legendaryoikawa]

haikyuu boys as part of the mafia + how he met you

note: i just thought of this while im washing the dishes HAHA. female reader insert. also happy birthday to the ultimate baby bokuto 🥺💖

warnings: nsfw, mention of violence, grammar issues because im dumb asf

bokuto kotaro 

decoy/manipulator

has a two persona that is best used especially when he is in the midst of a deal

even though he’s a decoy, it is enough to send a rival down to his knees and beg for his mercy

Because bokuto doesn’t show tiny bit of his mercy especially when his dominating side takes over him

Is a good manipulator. To the point that you would have constant nightmares with just the slip of his words.

Good with his hands. Quite aggressive. Yet he plays his cards elegantly like the man he is.

you met him in a luxurious casino. you were the attendant of his table and you could always note how fast his mood changes and it was scary. you carefully stacked the chips in front of him, feeling the heavy weight of his stern gaze. you saw from your peripheral how his hands slid down the edge of the mahogany. “play with me.”

you didn’t answere and continued on organizing the stacks for a new game as per bokuto’s request but he repeated those words again, “play with me. you. im talking to you.”

and you did. he lost. and that’s what made you terrified even more. he grew dejected and stormed out of the casino like a raging tsunami.

that didn’t made bokuto happy at all, so he made sure to find you so he could play with you once more. it didn’t caused him a sweat when he found out where your apartment complex is. and his words have shaken you when he laid the stacks of money on your table and said, “play with me. the loser gets to kiss the winner, if you’ll allow it of course.”

there’s something with his words that are like witchcraft spells. and you found yourself nodding, yes.

daichi sawamura - 

the kingpin. 

daichi is the leader of the mafia group: karasuno or better known as their alias ‘lethal crows’.

 daichi is born into the syndicate. so he doesn’t get caught up unlike amateur people in the black world. 

undergone strenuous training just to prove himself as the worthy kingpin. 

he often orders the assassination and criminal deals. 

he isn’t as ‘intimidating’ like how people expect kingpins to act, but daichi has his own way that makes people so afraid of him. if he wishes to kill on the spot, he kills. even if you’re something important, if you annoyed him to the edge, you’re six feet deep.

however, one flaw of daichi is that he prioritizes his members that he doesn’t oversees the barriers coming his way. 

you met him during this time when curiosity get the best of you. you entered this fancy yet abandoned building in hopes of scavenging something that was left by its past owners. however, no treasure came to your view, rather a drug deal with bunch of rogue looking guys.

“daichi?” you were so shocked to see your co-worker in an expensive designer coat sitting in this throne like chair with stack of bills piled in front of him. he isn’t the typical guy you were used to seeing: the goofy guy in the fryer with his greasy apron. 

you didn’t expect him to be so, different.

“who’s this?” tanaka rose up to his seat. cracking his knuckles while giving you a dangerous look. 

“let her enjoy her remaining life as a free citizen. after this..” he counted the bills and paused at look at you, “you’re coming with me.”

akaashi keiji 

weaponry/gadgets specialist

Quite reserved.

He is often hired to big projects but he would turn it down if it requires his apperance.

No matter how much his members push him to bite off the job he wouldn’t, not unless he works up in the roofs, alone.

Usually works in the shadows. Where his identity is hidden.

Ask him about any weapon, he’ll have an answer in a few.

give him a vague description of a bomb, he’ll have it ready, ticking, for you.

he met you when you walked into his first walked in his gang’s base, with your red stilettos clicking aggressively against the marbled tile. then comes the second meeting and the third till you’ve both made good acquaintances. you liked him. for both his smart mouth and big dick. if he wasn’t just too difficult to persevere.

but you could see that way his breath hitched the moment you walked in with your fitted versace dress. which made you cocky from head to toe.

he could note the way your lips tugs upward as you scan the whole interior of the place. you didn’t need it though as you know every curvature of the place. you were just that shit going around him so you could give him a good view of yourself that he refused indulge in.

you stopped midway to stare at him from head to toe then back to his pretty face. gaze fixated on his kissable lips. despite your urge to kiss him up, you decided to tease, “give me something bold.”

“pardon?”

“you heard me, akaashi.”

and he gave you a fancy handgun, a caliber. however that wasn’t your request. you pulled his shirt and whispered to his ears, “i said i want something bold. want me to spell it out for you? A-k-a-a-s-h-i”

and you walked away. just like that and things just became bold in your apartment complex.

oikawa tooru 

underboss/ loverboy

Smooth talker. Usually uses his pretty face as an advantage to get something off girls that swoon over him.

he is quite unpredictable as well.

he approached you out of nowhere in the met gala and you were forced to be in his own disposal. he isn’t really a headache to deal with. but you aren’t here to flirt around especially with pretty boys like him. there is something in him that is similar with a ticking bomb. so best is to admire guys like him at a distance.

however, oikawa is determined to chase over you. because you are like a diamond in a room full of charcoal.

he approached you immediately when you stopped by in the concession stand to nurse yourself a cocktail.

“fancy a dance, miss?”

you looked at him. oikawa tooru. beautiful as they say but you immediately walked away.

oikawa smirked to himself, “if you just don’thold a precious information. i wouldn’t chase over a doll like you.”

tendou satori 

head of intelligence

can predict the moves of the rivalry gang

so in result they end up getting butchered thanks to tendou’s half assed predictions.

guess monster

the boys entered the room with a agitated expression painting their faces.

tendou raised a brow and looked at the boy filling in their ammos. “what’s up boys?”

“we got played.”

tendou grinned. “oh, interesting. who pulled an ace card?”

“y/n of the yakuza.”

tendou made sure to track you down for meddling in his play.

kyoutani kentaro 

torture specialist

All the dirty work is assigned to him

But kyoutani is quite carefree with his job, to the point where oikawa needs to step in to clean after his mess.

he is really brutal when it comes to finishing a rat pack from a rivalry gang and he gives no mercy.

knows every possible way of killing

but he fancies using the bat since it can strengthen his arm strength and it’s practical.

loves the sound of metal clashing with hard skull with the splasing sound of fresh blood slightly staining his skin.

you were both childhood sweethearts. however, you were the only one pursuing him because he doesn’t want to commit anything to you. not until you found out about him and his crucial job out of accident and he was forced to confess to you, and it was the reason why he don’t want to accept your heart.

one time he went home and he couldn’t find any trace of you. panic coursed through his veins when he heard your cries over the line.

“fucking touch her and i will drench all of you in boiling acid.”

ushijima wakatoshi 

hand to hand combatant

people are usually afraid of him because of how he could flip people off easily without drenching a sweat

he has the capability to run a whole gang just by himself

but he would just rather go and fight fist first

and chill afterwards

both of you met when you were scouted as a new member and part of the group’s test is to have a hand to hand combant against wakatoshi.

you were mortified when he approached you. with his large built and driving aura.

“ready?” he asked lowly.

“no?”

he raised a brow, “i bet.”

and he let you win just so you would get accepted in the gang.

tanaka ryuunosuke

hand to hand combatant

really moody

aggressive and violent

could kill with just the use of his hands, alone. 

but he has his soft moments too but this happens when the moon turns blue.

you were tasked to be his sparring mate. and to be frank, you were really spooked and frightened that you won’t get out of the arena, working let alone, alive. 

and to see him up close, it was really, a deal. he’s tall, with a slim yet broad frame, and really is intimidating. he gave you a look and ruffled your hair. 

“i don’t hurt girls.”

that was the first time you saw him smile. rumors said he never did. 

sugawara koushi 

consigliere

smart shit. 

he’s usually responsible for the activities of the group.

master at hiding the illegal stuff away from prying eyes

and a genius at continuing the legal stuffs even though it’s just for a front

he is also the adviser of the kingpin, especially at plans and deals on heists and forgery

at some point, he is the official diplomat for Japan.

he met you when he is trying to study the floor plan on the central bank. he was in this beige tux, with his gray hair brush up to give justice to his whole other persona. 

you came up to him and offered him installation plans and bank deals perfect for a bachelor like him. 

he gave you a smile, “i will be meeting you soon.”

and he did. in a creepy dali mask and a red overalls. “i told you, i will be back.”

iwaizumi hajime 

sniper

he goes with codes to maintain his anonymity

he works like a black panther, often sleek yet deadly

even the police couldn’t catch up with his hideous crimes because he never leaves unwanted trails behind

kills in his own special way

one time, he made someone swallow a C-4 and stitched his neck leaving it looking so grotesque

and boom, red, bloody like a slaughter house

he once made his way onto one of oikawa’s fancy bar to unwind. however, things went distrupt when there was a sudden shootout. he was beyond amused at how petty the shooters were aiming down at him. it was full of chaos.

he ducked down to fill in his ammos but he could see a figure crouched down underneath the satin cloths drench haphazardly above the tall tables.

he yanked the cloth and saw you there, looking lost as fuck. “what the hell are you doing here?!”

your eyes widened at the sight of the handsome man looking down at you as if you’re some unknown species. “uhm— chilling?”

he repeated your words. “chilling? in a middle of a fucking shoot out?”

“yo. i was lost okay? i don’t know where the exit is”

he grabbed you and threw his arms over your head so you’re protected from the stray bullets ricocheting over the place. “you’re a fucking goner.”

—

i hope you guys like this 🥺💖💖

[adorethedistance]

A Pretty Good Bad Idea - Owen Joyner x Reader

JATP masterlist

Warnings: swearing, peer pressure kinda, very mild n fluffy

Words: 1865

Summary: Touring with the Julie and The Phantoms cast as a dancer has been the best time of your life, and the only thing that could make it better is the reciprocated affections of a cute, blond drummer.

A/N: So this piece is 1) inspired by this interview and 2) entirely self indulgent. It’s something I haven’t been able to get out of my mind every time I’m doing warm ups, and putting it down on ,, digital paper is my only way to get rid of it lmao. I hope y’all enjoy bc I know this scenario makes me really happy and I love sharing my joy with y’all.

I let out an involuntary whine when I roll forward into my almost-center splits. My hips are so sore from yesterday’s performance I had to force myself to start stretching in the first place. Getting a head start, I arrived at the concert venue an hour earlier than call time to get my lengthy stretching routine out of the way before the other girls show up. Slowly but surely, the rest of the dancers arrived and we began getting ready together.

“I have a speaker!” Tori announces to the room upon entering which makes me jump up from my seat.

“Yes! May I do the honors and bless y’all with my musical theatre playlist?” The rest of the group cheers, exposing themselves for the theatre kids that we are. After hearing the chime that signifies the speaker-phone pairing, a few seconds pass before “Cell Block Tango” begins to play. The entire group feigns outrage but we know all the words and soon indulge in such shameful pandering. A good pre-show playlist is what really gets me amped up for performing and after yesterday’s queue of ‘today’s hits’ pop, the musical theatre is a nice change of pace.

Since I’d gotten here so early, I decided to do my makeup before stretching and I still had time to spare. The only thing left for me to do was to get in costume but I’d wait until a little closer to showtime so that I could still eat and drink for the time being. This also meant I was free to roam and bother other people as they got ready, doing what I’d done almost an hour ago.

“So, Y/n?”

“Hm?”

“What’s going on with you and Owen?” I feel my breathing halt for a microsecond before looking up at, one of the other dancers and also my friend, Ella. My eyebrows are cinched in confusion as I try my best to figure out what it is she’s getting at.

“I don’t know, Ella. What is going on with me and Owen?”

“Oh come on. Your Instagram story from yesterday?” Oh. That.

“We just went to lunch?” I seemingly ask more than state.

“Yeah. Just the two of you. Don’t hold out on us, we wanna know what’s going on!”

“Really, Ella, there’s nothing going on. We’re just getting to know each other better.”

“Just getting to know each other better? Or getting to know each other better?” Tori butts in, dusting her cheeks with a subtle highlight.

“The first one?”

“How many times have you hung out?”

“Just the once.”

“Are you planning another date?”

“It wasn’t a date-”

“Do you want us to help wingman you?”

“I really don’t-”

“Hey.” The rapid-fire of questions cease when the gang of us look up to see Owen himself standing in the doorway.

“Speak of the devil,” Tori snickers as the rest of the girls slowly disperse and smugly resume doing their makeup. Owen makes a face in reaction to her comment but chooses not to pry.

“Could I borrow some hairspray? This one piece of hair won’t stay.” Despite each of the girls having a full can of hairspray on hand, nobody makes a move to give him the product, indicating that I should be the one to help him out. Rolling my eyes at the look Ella is giving me through the mirror, I stand from my chair and hand Owen the can of hairspray. He then looks straight ahead and moves to use the product but I stop him before he can.

“What’s your plan?”

“What?”

“Are you just gonna spray the piece?”

“...yeah?”

“That’s not gonna work since the rest of your hair already has product in it. Can I help you?” Owen nods amiably and takes a seat after I gesture for him to sit in my chair. I then realize my mistake as I need the comb on the grey countertop, and have to consequently reach past Owen in a way that wouldn’t be so compromising had I not worn such a low-cut top. Thankfully it’s over as fast as it began, and walking to the sink in the corner of the dressing room, I run the cool water over the bristles. It isn’t until I turn off the tap that I notice how eerily quiet the room had gotten. None of the girls are talking, attentively studying my every move as I cross back to Owen.

“Is this Chicago?”

“Uh, yeah, We’re listening to my musical theatre playlist though, not the whole soundtrack,” I respond in spite of the nervous laugh that falls from my lips. The slight slouch in Owen’s posture doesn’t help me to see what I’m doing clearly enough. Using my index finger and an upturned palm, I tilt his chin up to get a better look at his hair, willfully ignoring the fact that he’s staring at me right now.

Still, silence fills the room as I take the wet comb through the front section of his hair where the stubborn strand won’t stay put. Once the water binds the pieces together, I grab my can of hairspray and struggle to uncap it. The outside is slick from god knows what, but thankfully Owen doesn’t let me struggle anymore and holds up his hands to wordlessly offer his help. I hand him the can, and he pops the top off after barely struggling. Handing the can back to me, he holds onto the lid, and the entire exchange remains completely silent.

I have to work quickly in my next step, but it’s not enough to distract from the fact that everyone in the room is watching me intently. Holding the aerosol can away from the crowd of people, I put some of the product on the comb and quickly work it into Owen’s hair while it’s still wet. Once the comb has formed his hair to my liking, I stop brushing it through in fear of the now dry hairspray ruining the shape. Then, I use my left hand to shield Owen’s eyes from getting any product in them before spraying the offending area to seal in my hard work.

The sound of a cell door sliding closed signifies the end of the song, and I wait for a second, eagerly anticipating the next song to play. Upon hearing the staccato piano notes of “Bad Idea” from Waitress, a smile appears on my face.

“I love this song.” Lunging back on my right leg, I create a little distance between us to make sure I didn’t completely butcher the rest of his hair, singing as I do.

“It’s a bad idea, me and you.”

“I know, I totally agree.” Pleasantly surprised by his joining in, my smile grows bigger.

“It’s a bad idea, me and you.”

“I’ve never known anything so true-”

“It’s a terrible idea, me and you.” The effortlessness that the two of us find in harmonizing is a genuine shock and an absolute thrill all at once. Once Owen sees how excited I am by his joining in me, it’s like a switch had been flipped; the two of us immediately slip into Actor Mode and begin to sing the song as if we were performing it on a Broadway stage.

“You have a wife.” I take a small step back out of the character’s hesitation.

“You have a husband.” Owen mirrors my action.

“You’re my doctor-” I cross my arms across my chest, but release my right hand to gesture to Owen standing in front of me.

“You’ve got a baby coming-” He uses both hands to gesture back to me in my ‘pregnant’ state.

“It’s a bad idea, me and you,” the two of us turn slightly away from facing one another in false bashfulness. When the music picks up, the two of us avidly step toward one another to come together. In perfect synchronization, I grab Owen’s forearms and his hands face upwards to hold onto my elbows.

“Let’s just keep kissing ‘til we come to.”

“Heart, stop racing, let’s face it-” Owen pivots his step out to the side to face forward, extending his right arm which cues me to turn into him and take his other hand to spin out.

“Making mistakes like this will make worse what is already pretty bad.” Then he extends his right arm forward, and I turn into him once again.

“Mind, stop running. It’s time we just let this thing go.” Instead of spinning out again, I stop in front of him where he wraps both of his arms around me.

“It was a pretty good bad idea,” in our harmony I cast my gaze upward to see Owen staring right back down at me, and I feel like I’m seeing stars, “Wasn’t it though?”

The two of us continue dancing and singing with one another as if the rest of the world doesn’t exist. It’s only the two of us, here and now. The other girls in the room don’t miss the way I seem to smile like never before, and I sure as hell don’t miss the way my stomach fills with butterflies. When he holds me so close and dear for each intimate moment of the song, I’m seeing stars. A bold happiness consumes me, the same happiness I felt when Owen and I laughed over lunch in that small pizzeria.

The final harmony draws the song to a close and when it finishes, the two of us fall into a breathless kind of laughter.

“I didn’t take a big enough breath for that last part.”

“Me neither.”

“Your hair stayed intact.”

“I must have a pretty good stylist.”

After recovering from our laughter the two of us wind up in a palpable stupor as we stare into one another’s eyes. A few blinks and my trance is broken, I become aware of our surroundings.

“I should get dressed soon, and you definitely need to get dressed.” Owen nods still somewhat breathless.

“Yeah. See you later for pulse?”

“Save me a spot,” I joke as he backs out of the threshold of our dressing room. Leaning against the doorframe I watch him disappear into his assigned dressing room with a small smile still lingering on my features.

“Just getting to know each other my ass!”

“What the heck was that?”

“Are you sure you don’t want us to wingman you?”

“Do you even need a wingman after something like that?”

Turning on my heel, I face the bunch of insatiable dancers and shake my head in disbelief.

“We were just acting, you guys.”

“Liar.”

“Excuse me?”

“Maybe you were acting, but he sure as hell wasn’t. Did you see the way he was looking at you? He is totally in love with you.” Ella shakes me by my shoulders.

“He’s just a really good performer is all.”

“When is your next date?” she completely ignores me.

“Okay-”

“Oh, and I want to be the maid of honor at your wedding-”

“It was just a song, Ella.”

“-Oh my god you guys are gonna have the cutest kids! I mean, your hair with his eyes and cheekbones? Ahh! The cutest.”

***

A/n: the way that being on tour isn’t the most unrealistic part of this fic, but instead Owen actually knowing the lyrics is? Work diva.

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13​ @kaitlyn2907​ @itz-jas​ @crybabyddl​ @kcd15​ @kinda-really-lost​ @calamitykaty​ @morganayenneferburnham​ @n0wornever​ @dream-a-little-bigger-x​ @mrstodorooki @vicesvsvirturesfanfic @curlybrownhairedboys​ @amazinggracy​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @asdfghjkl-fanfics​ @ghostlygreenbean​ @juliefromaustralia @merceret​ @jemimah-b99​ @ifilwtmfc​ @thesweetestsinner​ @imsydneywalker​ @lovesanimals​ @thebloodthirstyvampress​ @bumbleberry-pie​ @losers-club6​ @tefilovesreading​ @dmcfarland1​@joynerxmercer @kexrtiz​ @talk-on-the-street​ @phantompogues​ @konciousdreamer​ @sunsetcurvej​ @warmnesss0ul​ @celestialmolina​ @lilyjoyner​ 

[heart-of-gold-outlaw]

Give Me A Long Kiss Goodnight: An Arthur Morgan x Modern!Reader One-Shot

Summary: Arthur goes to visit Mary, and the Reader has some time alone with their thoughts...

It's maybe six on a Saturday evening, and Arthur's gone to visit a woman named Mary. You offered to go with him, but for once, he declined, saying that it was a matter of personal business. You know all too well what that means. Mary is more than just a friend to him. She's someone special, someone Arthur loves. And while you want him to be happy (stars only know the poor man wouldn't know what to do with happiness, but still), you can't help but feel... off about the whole situation. 

It's not Mary, you decide. It's not Arthur, either. Perhaps the problem lies with you, with something you haven't dealt with for a long time, if ever at all. You're not good with feelings. Feelings, in general, have led to nothing but trouble. You suppose that says something about your mental state, but you can't be bothered to face that at the moment. Leave it for another day. A better day.

Dutch calls out to you as you wander away from Horseshoe Overlook. You tell him over your shoulder that you're just taking a walk; you'll be by the river if he needs you. There's no sense in waiting for a response, so you don't. Let Dutch wonder about things in peace. He'll figure them out eventually.

The river rushes faster than you've ever seen it. Small wonder; it rained just a few nights ago. Sighing, you grab a rock and skip it across the water. You tell yourself you don't know why you're upset, why you're standing alone, chucking stones into a river like you're the unluckiest person alive. But the more time you spend in the past... the harder it gets to lie. Hell, the more time you spend around people you care about--that's the truth, now, isn't it? You care about the Van Der Linde gang. You never thought you would do that. They are outlaws, after all. 

But you do. Chalk it up to bad taste.

And what's worse... what's worse is you care about Arthur. You don't know if you want to. Caring about people... well, it doesn't really get you anywhere. You've cared about plenty of people before--and most of them left. Of course, you know everyone is their own person, free to leave whenever they please. But you wish for once, for once, someone would stand by you. 

But Arthur's with Mary. And he probably wants it that way.

You sigh again and hunt for another rock. Maybe it's for the best. Maybe it would be a bad thing to ruin whatever it is you and Arthur have together. Friendship is something to be cherished, that's for sure. But when you feel more than that... well, things get complicated.

"Drain the pressure from the swelling," you sing softly as you stare out across the river. "This sensation's overwhelming..."

You look down at the rock in your hand, then grip it tightly. Tears sting the corners of your eyes.

"Give me a long kiss goodnight, and everything will be alright..."

The rock slips from your fingers.

"Tell me that I won't feel a thing..."

"...Dutch told me I'd find you down here."

You barely stifle a shriek and whirl around. Arthur stands a little ways from you, hands in his pockets, looking at you like you're a dream. That only makes your heart hurt more. Still, you don't turn away and instead give him a small smile.

"Did you have fun?" You ask, though you're dreading the answer.

He looks away. "No... not really."

There's something in his tone that makes you frown. You've never heard him sound so... sad. So defeated. Carefully, you take a few steps toward him, arms hovering by your sides like you're ready to hug him if need be.

"Arthur, what's wrong?" 

For a moment, you think he won't say anything. But then? Then he sighs and shakes his head before looking at you.

"I..." He begins, then continues stronger: "It was a mistake... to see Mary."

Hope flutters in your chest, instinctive, strong, and all too painful. You immediately try to smother it. The last thing you want is for Arthur to be upset, and he definitely doesn't look or sound all that happy at the moment. 

"Why?" You ask tentatively. You don't want to pry, but at the same time, you want to know everything. 

Arthur sighs and moves until he's standing by you. "Let's just say the past is in the past... and should stay that way."

"Watch your choice of words there." You give him a small smile and gently bump his shoulder. "Maybe I'll take you to the future sometime." 

He laughs. The sound is like a soothing melody, and it takes every ounce of your self control not to blush. Still, despite your best efforts, you can't help the slight color that rushes to your cheeks. Arthur notices--of course he does--and his smile turns into a knowing smirk.

"That song you were singing was nice," he eventually says, leaning in a little closer to you. 

Your brain short-circuits. "Uh-huh."

"How'd it go again?"

"Uh..." Good Lord, he's really close to you now. You can feel the warmth radiating from him in waves. Still, you manage to shake your head and sing the last few lines: "Give me a long kiss good-night, and everything will be alright..."

Arthur smiles and cups your face in both of his hands. "Happy to oblige," he murmurs and gently presses his lips to yours. 

And just like that, the rest of the world fades away. Problems, sorrow, anxiety... they all blink out of existence. Now? Now it's just you and Arthur.

And somehow, you know it'll always be that way. 

A/N: Listen... This is incredibly self indulgent (Green Day + Arthur Morgan = Happy Me), but I just thought I’d share lol. 

[mxpseudonym]

Too Many Questions

Pairing: Tommy x OC 

Reader Gender Expression: Male Reader (if you don’t mind straight up characterization)

Length: 4406 words (allegedly)

Warnings: None

A/N: Very self indulgent, it’s just an idea that came to mind. I’m writing a part two because this was getting too long for a tumblr post. Part II is sappy and possibly spicy, we’ll see. 

Edit: It was irking my soul that I split this piece into two parts so I combined them and now Part II doesn’t exist. 

Tommy’s Betrayal 

--

"What the fuck did you just say?"

Tommy's eyes snapped away from their leisurely journey tracing the lines on the man's face to his cool, unyielding brown eyes.  

"Do you keep thinking about her because she was your last chance at salvation?"

The question was sharp and unavoidable. It was inappropriate. It was not a question at all, but a statement disguised in the most palatable way possible. Most importantly, it was telling. Who knew Tommy Shelby better than Jack Brewer? Only Polly Shelby, probably.

If he were honest, Tommy didn't even know how it happened. Jack was young, only just approaching his late twenties, yet he was the puppet master of London Town. His utterly charming but never quite polite disposition only helped unnerve gangsters and politicians alike when he monitored them like chess pieces. Rumors overtook facts, leaving the miraculous path Jack took from being a banker's apprentice to untamed royalty a mystery of folklore proportions. To add to it, Jack's boyish, handsome features made him unassuming.

"Don't mind the priss. He's just bein' a nuisance in the corner," Alfie Solomons grumbled as he led Tommy into the office. The rum runner nodded his head towards the back of his office, revealing a clean-shaven 22-year-old in an expensive suit.

"You're grumpy today, Alfie. You still skipping breakfast?" Jack asked, an airy arrogance to his tone. He didn't look up from the folder he was reading from while Alfie barked a sassy rebuttal, but when Jack did, his eyes locked with Tommy's. Suddenly he was standing and approaching the businessmen with an outstretched hand. His manner was as relaxed as his firm yet comfortable handshake. "Thomas Shelby, how are you? I'm Jack Brewer."

"I'd say nice to meet you, but I don't know yet." Tommy watched Jack's eyes sparkle.

"This has already made my day."

"Do you mind? We have a meeting?" Tommy motioned to Alfie, not bothering with many pleasantries. Jack looked to Alfie, a playful smile on his face.

"Alfie?"

"The kid's my partner anyway. He's a puppeteer and a walking omen if you can believe it," Alfie, in his own way, vouched for the boy.

"Anyone could have predicted the war between the Jews and the Italians. You just have to think," Jack said with a shrug.

"What kind of partners are you?" Tommy asked as he unbuttoned his suit jacket. Jack's eyes flickered down to take in his figure for a moment, not minding for a second that Tommy caught the motion. He even looked him in the eye after.

"Alfie provides security for me, and I help him out with projects here and there. He can let you know which ones."

"Ah, there's a lot of trust between you then." Tommy nodded.

"Not really. We just understand each other. If I were to betray Alfie, I'd lose business, reputation, and all the dark rum I can swallow. If Alfie were to betray me, it would be in vain, and I'd make sure he wouldn't be able to leave more than a glimmer of false hope to his kin when he passes. Right, Alfie?" Jack looked back to Alfie, his smile still reposed and bright.

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard you. Now quit your yapping and get over here, Tommy." Alfie motioned to the chair in front of him. Before he could, a hand reached out and placed itself on Tommy's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. It would have been warm if Jack wasn't seemingly wicked at heart.

"Don't worry, Tommy, I won't interfere. I've got work to do back here."

That was a good four years ago, and now Tommy sat shirtless on a chair in Jack's posh, surprisingly well-used kitchen. Just a moment ago, Tommy was musing about how he felt robbed. It took showing up at half past midnight with a knife wound to see Jack with mused hair, wiry glasses, and a long-sleeved thermal pushed up to his elbows. Now, Tommy was looking at that same boy as if he'd lost his mind.

"You've got a lot of balls, Jack, and you're toeing a fine line. Why would you say that?" Though it was a threat, Tommy in no way thought Jack would be intimidated. Just as he suspected, the young man remained unfazed by his tone as he clumsily splashed iodine on a cotton square.

"You've always wanted more than any man could have. You loved and married an aristocrat who betrayed you because she wanted the clean version of you, and you wanted to be that clean version. I believe we'd call that a pacemaker of sorts, someone to keep you going in a certain direction. Doesn't really work that way when you're the type to risk anything to meet your goal. But it was a good try. Be brave now," Jack said, mumbling the last part as he leaned in and focused on Tommy's arm. It was only a flesh wound, a narrowly missed shanking from a rival gang's guerilla attack turned into a jagged slash on his left bicep.

"You're an insufferable bastard," Tommy said finally.

"And you suffer plenty. Is that why you like me?" Jack's eyes shifted to meet the icy blue ones for a moment, and gave Tommy a cheeky smirk.

"When did I say I liked you?"

Jack thought to the many times they'd spent together in offices, various properties they owned, hotel rooms, and the occasional Bently. He nodded and gave a knowing smile.

"You're right. I'm presumptuous."

Jack could have just about anything he wanted- a spontaneous parade that would block traffic or a shady election alike. But despite their murky history, it was no secret that his favorite carrot on a stick was Tommy Shelby.

Jack would be dead if the tables were turned, and Jack had done what Tommy did to him. An attempt at betrayal that was now years old but still fresh in Tommy's mind by the power of something akin to regret. But Jack was a different breed of man, one that Tommy yet didn't have a grasp on.

"If you hadn't tried to betray me, you wouldn't be the opportunist I thought you were. And that would have been disappointing," said Jack after revealing what he knew back then, which was everything.

He didn't ask Tommy for so much as an apology. Instead, he was here handling Tommy like he was made of glass. Tapping the iodine against thickened skin was almost too gentle. It was unnecessary. Still, Tommy sat quietly and took it because it was past 1 AM now, and he was tired, and he liked it. In the glow of the kitchen lights, Tommy let his shoulders relax and his mind wander.

He always figured he'd end up at Jack's actual apartment. Not a safe house or his third most frequented London flat, but his real home. Thinking back to when Jack first opened the door, Tommy wondered if he'd gotten one over on the man. Jack looked surprised for a moment before rolling his eyes, holding the back door open, and telling Tommy the entry cost was getting his wound dressed. It wasn't every day he could outsmart Jack. Tommy spent a considerable amount of time pinpointing the address he'd been quietly holding onto for the better part of a year. Using it now gave away some leverage, but it was worth it to see this side of Jack, calm with the haze of sleepiness inside an equally quiet house.

Were they opposites? He often felt a pang of dreadful isolation, even when his family was bickering around Arrow house's large dining table. But Jack seemed so content in his home alone, not a soul around. He'd even sent his small staff of three away on holiday for the week to avoid being asked if he wanted tea throughout the day because it drove him up a wall.

Would he like to be in a place like this, Tommy thought? Padding through the house barefoot, a warming drink in hand. The bigness that signified luxury traded in for the gift of holding a conversation with someone in the next room and smell what's cooking from his bed. And with Jack. That would be something.

"That's why you let your guard down, isn't it?" Jack brought Tommy's mind back to the present as he finally secured the bandage. He always did that. "You're not usually this careless. Were you thinking about absolution? Did you see her again?"

"You talk too much. And thinking you're always right's going to get you killed."

"No, it's not. Aren't I right anyway?"

"No."

Jack hummed, looking Tommy over for a moment. He leaned down, one hand grasping Tommy's wrist, letting his fingertips graze over the delicate skin. The other found its place on Tommy's thigh, only the smallest indention made from his fingertips.

Jack leaned into him, centimeters away from allowing their lips to brush. Instead, he inhaled softly. His nose grazed against Tommy's cheek, then his jaw, down his neck to his collarbone then up again. Tommy could feel his heart rate speed up. How could this youngin possibly get a rise out of him like this?

"You don't smell like opium anymore, Tommy. I'm proud of you," Jack spoke softly in his ear and let his thumb stroke the inside of Tommy's wrist. Those for words made Tommy's chest leap. "That means you aren't hallucinating her because you're high. And it seems like a little more than just residual love."

"You shouldn't talk about her that way. You of all people don't have the right."

A warning.

Jack pulled away far enough to see the glossy eyes of the man he let in. It was a strange feeling to be looked at with undeserved tenderness, Tommy thought. Moreso, it was unusual to be cared for.

Are you sure you vetted your new house staff properly?

Did you take precautions at your new factory?

That ciggy's not your lunch, is it?

Whether in meetings, in passing, or on purpose, there were always questions for Tommy. And when Jack felt Tommy exceeded his usual recklessness, he let him know.

And now, Jack was asking more questions. Prying. He tilted his head slightly. A warning from Tommy Shelby wasn't to be taken lightly, no matter who you were. Jack just happened to take the weight in stride.

"I shouldn't talk about Grace like what?" Jack asked.

"Like you know how she was in this world, and how she stays with me now. You don't know anything about it."

"Tommy, you know I'm thankful to her for taking care of you. I was at the wedding, wasn't I? No ill will. This isn't about her anyway; it's about you. Who else do you talk to about her? You just keep it in, don't you?"

"Gonna refer me to another head doctor? Don't waste your breath," Tommy scoffed.

"I'm going to refer you to the best psychiatrists I know as long as we both shall live. I'll make you sick of me."

"Too late."

"Well, I have nothing to lose then."

Jack straightened, reminding Tommy that he was being held only because he missed the feeling as Jack went to the liquor cabinet. He muttered something under his breath as he grabbed two glasses. That's right.

Jack was condescending, smug, even mean at times when it came to business. But when it came to Tommy, the one who sat shirtless in his kitchen with his shoulders relaxed and eyes carefully observing him, Jack had never spoken words too sharp at him. It was unnecessary, Tommy thought, because he could take it. But perhaps it was more of Jack not wanting to treat him in a way that Tommy had to brace himself to take.

"That'll help you sleep," Jack said, placing the drink in his hand. Tommy stood, gulping the small amount of brandy with ease.

"Where am I sleeping?"

"So, you want to stay?" Jack raised an eyebrow. "I can call you a cab."

"Come off it, it's unbecoming to not host a guest in a house like this," Tommy motioned around him. The phrasing made Jack's cheeks warm. Unbecoming, like some sort of debutante being scolded.

"Is the most becoming thing to do offering you my bed?" Jack leaned in close once again, giving Tommy his big eyes full of faux innocence. When he wasn't in his high-end suits or talking quite frankly, Jack had to capacity to look adorable.

"Aren't you being presumptuous?" Tommy asked. Of all the things he could have said, Tommy didn't expect that to be the one that made Jack reel back like he'd been hit. The young man moved to lean against the wall and pointed to the stairs.

"I have several guest rooms. I don't know if the beds are turned down or what that even means, but they're there."  

It was late, Tommy remembered, and Jack wasn't energized enough to keep the banter going on. Not like this. Jack took a sip of his drink and waited for Tommy. He was always waiting for Tommy.

"Is your bed turned down?" Tommy asked.

"I just told you I don't know what that means," Jack said, setting down his glass then stretching. He let his arms rest above his head. The motion revealed a toned stomach and just how low on the hips Jack's cotton bottoms actually hung.

"So you'll have to come to check for yourself, old man."

At nearly 2 AM, the only thing either of them had the energy to do was sleep. Any other revelations about Jack would have to wait until morning, and Tommy wasn't disappointed.

As he moved Jack's head from his chest and arm from around his waist, Tommy found that Jack was dead to the world when asleep. He was also prepared no matter what, evident by the new toothbrush and folded note sitting in an empty glass on the bathroom counter. The message read, 'Tommy, suit in closet, red hanger.' Did Jack know he'd wake up before him? Tommy scoffed but dressed anyway.

"What the hell are you still doing here?" Jack said through a yawn as he stumbled into the dining room at noon, where Tommy was sitting with a book and a coffee cup.

"Do you want me to leave?"

"It's fine. Taking all that smoke in your lungs is probably going to kill you," Jack said, motioning to the cigarette that was still smoking in the small ashtray on the table while he passed through to the kitchen.

"Taking its time, isn't it?"

"Don't say that. You're the only one making this fun."

"What?"

"This whole race to the top we've got going on in this city. Or the world, I guess."

"You don't have a legacy you want to leave behind when you grow old," Tommy asked. A moment later, Jack was standing in front of him with two water glasses and no willingness to accept no as an answer when he encouraged Tommy to drink.

"I'm not growing old. Someone'll get wise and kill me off before that."

Jack was as confident about this as everything else he said. He was more cynical than Tommy thought. He thought back to the one time he asked the man about the war and if he fought. Jack's answer always intrigued Tommy. Jack averted his gaze, and before quickly changing the subject, he said, "Just a bit." Whatever happened, Tommy figured it changed him.

Jack sat and made no mention of how the table's head was always his place, but Tommy could have it for now. He pulled a pastry from a dish sitting in the middle of the table and placed it in his mouth to free his hands. One picked up the paper that had clearly been read through, and one shamelessly commandeered Tommy's coffee cup. A bite of the buttery crust washed down by the coffee that made him grimace gave Jack the energy to try and read the paper. Tommy watched as the young man shuffled the pages, becoming more disgruntled by the minute.

"Why did you do this?" He asked Tommy, exasperated as he tried to find which loose insert continued the front-page story. Once he gathered it, he folded it together correctly and took a large bite of his pastry, only to be interrupted. Tommy tried to smother his growing smile and laugh to no avail. "What?"

"You're a brat."

Jack's eyes widened. He blinked for a moment, both because he never expected Tommy of all people to call him that and because he'd never seen the gangster laugh so heartily before. His mouth still full, Jack asked to clarify,

"A brat?"

"Through and through. Fussy from the moment you woke up," Tommy chuckled again. Heat crept up Jack's neck and face, but he let himself huff in amusement.

"I'm just particular."

It was a surprisingly eventful news week- horse races fixed to perfection and hollow speeches from political figures made to the public. And yet Jack found himself more interested in the unchanging man before him. He rested his chin in his palm and took Tommy in.

It was true that he hadn't expected Tommy to show up on his doorstep. But, if Tommy hadn't found his address by now, he would have been disappointed. Showing up like he did, however... Well, Jack had wanted to invite him on his own accord.

The whole thing with the Changrettas and ultimately Solomons was finally over, and Tommy could come back to him in London. They'd planned to meet on Tuesday, something about golf. Yet here, Tommy was instead, being somewhat of a nuisance. He hadn't asked if he could smoke in the house and didn't ask where the coffee was before he made. Not to mention, he handled his grouchiness with a bite of his own. A smile reached Jack's eyes and radiated through his body- this was an excellent second choice. It was like Tommy belonged there.

Almost.

"Try not to look so enamored; it's off-putting," Tommy spoke, not looking up from his book on... political influence? Something happened...

Jack reached out and placed a hand on Tommy's neck. His fingers moved up to feel the texture of his ridiculous hair cut, finally earning a glance. Jack could only imagine what Tommy would look like if he actually grew it out. The newspaper was an afterthought as Jack leaned over from his chair and pressed his lips against Tommy's. Soft, chapped, and chaste, but just what he needed all the same.

"Do I put you off?"

"All the time."

"Why are you wearing this?" Jack's hand moved to the collar of Tommy's shirt. Well, the shirt he got Tommy. The suit itself was expensive; a Belgian tailor with magic hands met Jack's requirements from the light gray color to the silver cufflinks.

"Didn't you tell me to?"

"Mm, I did. But if you're staying, then I'm just going to get you out of it."

"So straightforward."

"Says the man whose means of seduction involve alcohol, white lies about petrol, and some variation of 'let's fuck.'"

"Didn't say it was a bad thing."

"I'm making more coffee."

Jack had only placed his (formerly Tommy's) mug on the counter when the well-dressed man caged him in from behind.

"Are you not going to keep your promise?"

By nature, Jack was fearless in a way that surprised Tommy. If one believes death to be an inevitable luxury, there isn't a situation that could faze them much. In Jack's mind, either the consequence was easy, i.e., death, or it was difficult but something he'd get over at some point. Either outcome led the young man to do precisely what he wanted always.

The first time they kissed, they stood in Jack's office. Tommy was leaned against his desk, and Jack wasn't shy about leaning into him. Now in Jack's kitchen, he held that same energy. Turning in Tommy's arms, Jack wasted no time pressing their lips together again, with the older man meeting him halfway.

Tommy wasn't exactly sure how Jack managed. His kisses were dangerous- straightforward yet teasing, intense yet languid. It was helped only by the fact that they fit well together. Hands cupped a young man's face as a bold pajama-clad thigh moved between legs to press against the front of trousers. Thoughts of money were pushed aside as an expensive waistcoat was clenched between eager fingers, now a simple tool with a single-use: making them closer.

Even when he was dangerously close to light-headed, Jack considered this a worthy moment to push himself. The short breaths passed between kisses would have to suffice for now. For all Tommy called Jack bold, the young man couldn't help but let out a chuckle at how expertly dominant Tommy could be. A hand pressed to the small of his back, moving Jack and his eager thigh that brushed against Tommy's trousers closer while kissing down his neck.

"Enough," Jack breathed. Tommy looked up, unsure what he meant until Jack pushed their lips against each other again and let his hands rest on Tommy's belt. "Do you want a bed or a couch? Because I could have you right now, and I will if we go further."

The couch was closer.

Tommy's ability to concentrate was dwindling with each undone button. Open-mouthed kisses landed on every inch of available skin, making it a battle of moving fast enough to continue and not getting overwhelmed by so much contact after being touch starved. Maybe that was Jack's strategy. Sharp pain sinking into his shoulder made Tommy wince. It was a reminder that he'd been gone for a while. It was illogical and unnecessary to aim for exclusivity in whatever they called their relationship. Surprisingly, that's what made it all the more desperate.

"If I have a craving for Tommy Shelby, it doesn't matter who's around."

Jack ran a tongue over the indents of his canines and dragged it up his neck to stop and bite Tommy's earlobe.

"Hurry up," he breathed his command.

xx

"Did something happen?"

"When?"

"I don't know." Jack shrugged and tapped his cheek. Irritatingly patient, he was. They were in front of the fireplace in the den now, a fur blanket draped over them both as they laid in their underwear.  Early afternoon sun poured through the windows, illuminating the swirling smoke that left Tommy's lips.

"Then why ask?"

"Because I could know, but I always like to give you a chance to tell me voluntarily. It makes me feel less like you'd be lying to me every day if you could," Jack said, always casual, before stealing Tommy's cigarette. "Go ahead."

It wasn't that Tommy was interested in lying to the man all the time. In this instance, it was more that this was a problem Tommy got himself into and had to get himself out of. A problem that Jack had no doubt predicted like he predicted everything. Tommy thought back to his business with the Russians. Jack's first time in the Shelby Company Ltd. offices and Tommy's first time seeing the young man's face drop happened concurrently.

"Tommy," Jack almost sang his name, which only added to the tension. Tommy was a child about to be scolded for doing something he shouldn't have. "Am I too boring for you, Tommy? You had to go to the Russians?"

"A pest, always. Not boring though," Tommy said as he cleared his throat. He went to light his cigarette, giving it more concentration than required. Looking up, Tommy almost paused at the expression in Jack's eyes. There was no smile, genuine or otherwise, only the man he'd heard the haunting rumors about. What was the look he was getting? Annoyance? Disbelief? Frustration?

Instead of speaking on whatever it was, Jack placed a hand over his mouth and looked away. He swore under his breath and mumbled a few words before looking back. Maybe Jack should have told Tommy he was stupid and that the plan wasn't worth it. Doing something like this would be the nail in the coffin for any hopes of an utterly above-board business. But Jack, for once, chose his battle.

"That Tatiana Petrovna knows everything about you. The details of you being a widow, your brand of tobacco, the way you like to sin," Jack said instead. "And don't leave any weapons around. She's crazy."

Jack was good at being one step ahead or quickly recognizing when he wasn't and course correcting. But, though Tommy knew Jack wasn't a stranger to killing a man point-blank, there was still a grit that he was missing. Too eloquent and methodical to handle the Italians from New York. So he told Jack everything and how he was victorious using his Romani prowess. Jack wasn't the only strong one.

"Ah, so you're here because Polly threatened to lock you out of the safes again if you didn't take a holiday," Jack mused. That was his real question from earlier. Why the hell are you still here?

"Something like that." Tommy nodded.

"What are you going to do when you start shaking again? And hearing things?" Jack asked, offering the cigarette to its original owner.

"I'll deal with it if it happens, and it might. Nothing gin can't fix," Tommy said. He reached for the cigarette, only for it to be snatched away and tossed into the flames.

"That was a test. You failed." Jack rolled to his side, propping himself up on his forearm.

"I'm not sick, hm? I've shut the door on the war. I'm not Arthur. I can manage." Tommy could feel himself warming with anger, no, defensiveness at the idea that everything he did was to be questioned.

"I'm not letting you run around here like a dog catching rabies."

"You don't have a say in as much as you think you do," Tommy reminded him. Jack smiled in response, his eyes lightening up. He shifted his fingers then brought them to Tommy's temple in the shape of a gun.

"Go to a doctor, or I'll kill you myself. Bang."

He made a shooting motion then pulled his hand away, blowing imaginary smoke from his fingers. Tommy wondered if Jack ever made jokes. No matter his tone of voice, he always said what he meant and meant what he said. There was no getting out of this.

"What, are you my father now?

"Would you like that?"

"Christ,"

"Not quite him, either."

--

Tommy Tag: @soleil-dor;  @amysteryspot​; @captivatedbycillianmurphy

Peaky Blinders Tag List: @lilymurphy03

[javierduffy]

Hellooooo !! You mentioned in the tags of your latest post that you were willing to talk about your process if anyone asked and I am asking!!

It looks so good so I'd love to hear the process and thoughts behind it as someone who hasn't really touched digital painting before :3:3

- Oizys-Mutt

hi oizy :] sory for taking so long to get to this i honestly posted it and then i was like *windows shut down sfx* LOL so i never really felt prepared to answer until neow … not that i super feel like it now since its been so long since o posted the piece ;__; anyway !!! tjank u for asking about it first of all that’s so sweet ure always my biggest supporter </3 thank u ure so darling.

as for the idea behind the piece, i often like to think about how javier and kieran interact when they’re away from prying eyes. of course, i think that they leave camp together as often as they can (as unsuspiciously as possible .. if that’s possible at all) and progressively more and more as the gang falls apart and they know in their hearts that they’re about to lose each other, but because kieran and javier are both desperate lovers, i think they’re always finding romance the moment they think god is so merciful as to look the other way. this is to say, once javier feels as though there are enough leaves, brush, wildlife between he and his family, he rushes to yank kieran’s hand from branwen’s reins to hold. javier loves like a starved man, a one who has formerly been fed grapes and steak from the soft, gentle hands of a house servant, so a one whom knows what it is like to be full— it’s like it’s killing him to live with the grief of lovelessness. and kieran is a man who loves like a starved man who has never had a full meal in his life— he has no idea what it’s like to have a full belly, and he yearns in a way that hollows his chest out as though his heart has never beat once in his life. you put these two together and it’s almost as if lust and gluttony were the same, as if their clothed bodies, separated by the birdth of an entire foot, were forever eloped, connected, full, satisfied. like to merely touch one another is the same as to make love. so when they feel free, finally, away from the shackle of known perception- to be known, to be seen, to be rejected- they CANNOT be apart. it’s like javier can’t breathe if his atoms are not warmed by any of kieran’s that are adjacent. as i said, the moment the sun feels warmer on their skin than curious eyes, they’re intertwined. as simply as possible. every horse ride, trip to town, walk down the riverbank, every breath they take, it’s theirs. plural. so … uhhhmmm … at length, i think they’re always touching :] ! uhm. in not so many words. so it’s often that they will be seen on the road, in the woods, the creaks of their saddles speaking wordless ‘i love you’s as their intertwined hands next to the revolvers in their holsters convince strangers that the tree line opposite the lovers is suddenly quite worth watching instead. sorry. i just wrote a novel. thank you so much for indulging me i have so many feelings about them ;__;

hooonestly i don’t ever have much commentary on the process of the art itself, its moreso my thots behind the horse riding date LOL uhhhmm but since ure curious abt the art i can ramble abt that a bit :] for that piece specifically i really felt like painting for no reason in particular, but ive really felt burnt out on colouring, so i went with the process of .. reverse rendering ? if we want to call it that ? where u render the shadows in monochrome and then use white space as ur lighting and fiddle with the colours after the fact. i’m still not good at this process … at all ! it’s confusing to me ! but i’m more likely to do what i want with the piece, or at least a little more than i would otherwise, because im simply skipping the step that i Don’t want to do. it’s a long story as to why art, and certain aspects of it, is SO hard for me to do, but in short, i’m relearning how to enjoy it as an act after severely burning myself out on it due to setting absurd expectations for myself :] so im just going with my gut ! which … unfortunately does not leave much room for me to explain my process to you ! i’m sorry !!!!

[utterlyinevitable]

Hey hi! Can you do a hc about what happened in the time jump for the li routes to fix this mess? Make the lack of progression make sense! please and thank you

I shall try!

Though I’m only going to do Ethan, Bryce and Rafael (TBC in another post). I have never played Jackie’s route and don’t feel comfortable speculating. 

Ethan x MC During the Time Jump 

After the gala, things seemed to be going well. Ethan dismantled the Diagnostics Team and wasn’t MC’s direct superior anymore. 

They thought everything would be fine. 

But no, Ethan was still an attending and MC a resident in the same department. 

And that kiss looked too familiar to be the first time anything happened between them. 

So people started to talk. 

Rumors started to fly about MC sleeping her way onto the best cases and Ramsey giving her preferential treatment.  “Have you seen the way he looks at Dr. Lao? Actual hearts in his eyes.” “She’s the only person he wouldn’t fire for talking back to him.”   “I saw them leave Donahue’s together once last year. You think it’s been going on since then?” 

Ethan and MC did their best to ignore the incessant gossip, they were much too busy helping as many patients as possible to pay attention. 

Two weeks after the gala the gang celebrated Thanksgiving. 

Ethan was invited and joined without pushback. 

He sat at the island talking with Sienna and Rafael as they waited for MC to arrive from her errand that was taking longer than expected. 

It wasn’t as awkward as he would have thought, getting to know MC’s group was rather enjoyable. 

Well, that was until Keiki and Bryce arrived. 

Keiki was very standoffish with Ethan, giving him the full inquisition. 

He took it in stride, brushing off every time Bryce apologized for his sister’s behavior. 

MC and Ethan spent Christmas with Alan at Ethan’s place after a long shift. They hadn’t explicitly confirmed their coupling with his father, using the cover of “having nowhere else to go” to explain why they’re spending the day together. 

Ethan had only spoken about MC and barely even touched on the depth of his feelings for her in the odd conversation with Alan about his personal life.  

Alan knew better. He sees the way his son looks at MC and how attentive he is to her needs; whether it be a new napkin or a top up without batting an eye. No to mention, this wasn’t the first time he caught them cozying up in Ethan’s kitchen. 

Word still spread around the hospital, even quicker now that Ethan and MC were confirmed to have spent the holiday together. So much, to the point that they could not ignore it any longer. 

Ethan and MC and her friends tried to squash as many rumors as possible. Telling everyone that they’ve only started dating. It was part of the truth.  “They hooked up the moment she was cleared of the toxin. One of the nurses heard them. MC is loud!”  “That’s ridiculous. MC went right to sleep the second I wheeled her out of there,” Bryce informed. “And seriously, the kiss at the gala was the first time they got frisky.” 

They were able to buy some more time. The amount of patients coming through Edenbrook’s doors tripling and keeping everyone busy. 

MC spent New Years with her friends while Ethan worked. 

He made it to her apartment just in time to kiss her at midnight. 

Eventually the most salacious of rumors made their way to the board. 

Edenbrook still had ~7 months of life left and accusations like this could not be brushed under the rug. 

Ethan was called into a meeting to assess the claims not long after. 

He blew a gasket - face and ears red with rage at the laundry list of claims brought against them.

The board threw around the notion of a sexual harassment case. 

Ethan assured them that would not be necessary. Their current relationship was more than consensual. 

The board would have loved to believe them but in the current climate they could not afford another lawsuit and are proceeding with extreme caution. 

Ethan was advised to keep distant from MC until the investigation was concluded. 

MC was called in a few days later. 

She said the same as Ethan. 

Things were awkward that entire week they had to stay away from one another to prove their point of not interfering with their professional relationship. 

The case was cleared quicker than both thought possible. Luckily, all their friends and close colleagues vouched for them. 

Ethan and MC received the email of no wrongdoing just before their shifts ended one night.

The night they got the news wasn’t the happy reunion they were expecting. 

She met Ethan at his place - ready with a set of lingerie she was saving for February. 

MC was so excited. But that all ended over takeaway when Ethan spoke of the thoughts that had plaguing him since his meeting with the board. 

Needless to say, Ethan never got to see the outfit. 

The evening ended in them arguing about where she should apply to residency and how he doesn’t want to hinder her career. 

MC stormed out and gave him the cold shoulder for a while. 

Their fight lasted well past Valentine’s Day. 

MC did send him a text to thank him for the flowers and food basket he sent. Other than that it was professional business as usual between them. 

Both Ethan and MC threw themselves into their work, letting the days turn into weeks and neither of them acknowledging their issues. 

They let the fight simmer down and let themselves down along with it. 

They didn’t fight for their relationship, they didn’t talk anymore about what it all means for them. 

MC loves Ethan and would choose him and staying in Boston for him over a better opportunity elsewhere. But after everything, she’s dejected. She’s put so much effort into their relationship over the last two years that there’s no point to fight for something he’s not willing to meet halfway on.

Ethan knows MC leads with their heart. 

That’s why he wouldn’t tell her. That’s why he couldn’t tell her he’s madly in love with her. 

He doesn’t want to ruin her career anymore than he has already, doesn’t want the rumors festering within Edenbrook to follow her wherever she ends up. Doesn’t want her to give up a very promising career for whatever this is. 

He’s also not going to admit he’s a little scared of what it means if she did stay. It’s easier for him to push her away in the name of her career than admit he’s absolutely hopeless without her. 

MC’s night on the town with her friends ended up at the helipad on top of Edenbrook. Ethan heard the commotion of their dancing and loud music and went to investigate. 

The gang invited him to join and he looked at MC for permission. 

She smiled and shrugged, the fight forgotten and the nostalgia washing over her tipsy state. 

He grabbed and beer and sat next to her. He lamented on the view and when MC told him she was glad he was here Ethan grabbed her hand. They relished the feeling of their skin on each others after what’s felt like years. 

They welcomed the silence and just being in each others company. 

Slowly the group trickled out, leaving Ethan and MC alone.  “What did you get up to tonight? Besides trespassing.”  “We did some applications then said ‘fuck it’ and went out”  He didn’t comment on application although he was itching to know where she hopes to end up. So, Ethan changed the subject, “You look beautiful. That dress really suits you.”  “Thank you.” 

They sat still in unsettled silence. The nightly breeze picking up and Ethan mindlessly rubbing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. 

They went to speak at the same time, MC letting Ethan continue: 

“Will you come home with me?”  “Is that a good idea?”  “I’d like to make the most of the time we have left.” 

MC looked at him, their eyes locking. 

She knew it wasn’t a good idea - she’d fallen into him one too many times. Every time she was scorned.  

But maybe tonight she’s diluted her inhibitions enough to indulge in one last goodbye. 

They went back to his place and they didn’t talk at all. 

Very few words were exchanged in the seconds their lips parted. 

Small pleasantries were exchanged in the morning along with light kisses everywhere but on the mouth. 

Ethan drove her back to her place the next morning to keep prying eyes from catching them coming to work together. 

MC wished she regretted sleeping with him again. 

The moment she got out of bed she missed his heat and the way he wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled into her neck as they slept. 

It was heaven. And MC didn’t ever want to come back down. 

MC was still applying to programs all over the country, hoping she’ll find a new match somewhere. Ethan’s recommendation letter could only carry so far. 

Ever since that last evening Ethan and MC refused to acknowledge the fault staring them in the face. 

Instead, they took things one day at a time. 

They kept their friendship alive after months of ignoring one another. 

They’ve texted, they’ve almost sexted. They’ve gone out for coffee. 

But they never had another sleepover. 

Whenever they got close, their internal siren would wail “they’re leaving they’re leaving they’re leaving” and immediately someone would make an excuse to stop much to both their disappointment. 

It was for the best. They knew that. They convinced themselves to be true. 

Edenbrook’s last day came and Ethan was understandably shaken. His career he had devoted his entire life to ended. This creature of habit has to rebuild and it’s terrifying. 

He had a number of hospitals and research centers send him offers but none of them felt right. None of them were Edenbrook and none of them were the team he and his mentor built, and none of them had his favorite person. 

So Ethan was set to take a few months sabbatical; spend more time with his dad and at the opera and just enjoying the life he has been too distracted to live. 

Later that day while waiting for labs for the Bloom Case, he wanted to strangle his father for inviting MC on the quick trip to Providence. 

He also never expected her to agree. 

Ethan had never taken a woman home - and they weren’t really in that close of a place for her to nosey around his guarded past. 

It was disconcerting and strangely familiar to have MC by his side in his childhood home. His past and present meshing beautifully. 

And that scared Ethan. 

Standing in his childhood home watching Alan and MC coo over baby photos, Ethan never wanted a domestic life more. He wanted to show her everything and have her do the same. He wanted to do all this in twenty years with his own family. 

He was coveting things he had thrown away. 

And then she kissed him and for a split second no hope was lost. 

When the lights of Edenbrook finally went off that fateful day, MC grabbed his hand. 

It felt like the only thing to do. 

He was the most important part of Edenbrook - for MC Ethan was Edenbrook. 

Their romantic past aside, they became friends here. He was the reason she was here in the first place - at Edenbrook and practicing medicine. It was only fitting that he’d be at her side when this chapter closed. 

“I’m going to miss you,” she said so sincerely his heart didn’t know whether to shatter or swell.   “For what it’s worth, I feel exactly the same way about you.” 

The silence hung for a while as they watched the last of the lights switch off. 

She broke it with the most visceral question: “So. This is really it.”  “For some things.”  “And what about... other things? Am I going to see you again now that we don’t work together?” 

It was the question they’d been volleying and avoiding for months. The time came to finally put a decision to it. 

MC was still unsure where she was going. Ethan will be spending more time with his family. Things were still so complicated. 

“It’s impossible to say what the future will bring...” Ethan opted for one last life lesson to close their mentor/mentee relationship. 

Her features, mood and hopes simultaneously fell. This was really the end. 

A part of her hoped they could compromise. They only had one another a few times, there was so much more to explore between them. 

She kept her eyes glued down at their shoes, “Oh...”  “But I can see as far as tomorrow. I’ll see you then?” 

He had the ghost of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. 

After what felt like ages, their eyes locked. Both clear as could be. 

“I’d like that.” 

MC left to meet her friends while Ethan stayed to say the emotional goodbye to his home of the last 11 years, to the place that made him who he is. 

Ethan and MC went their separate ways with a promise of tomorrow.     

[that-sw-writer]

Hey, here's the idea! What if the reader is Hux's sister, she works on the steadfast or the supremacy, but gets transferred to her brother's command after Ren killed the previous person who held that position. So Hux is on edge cause he's scared Kylo will kill his sister next, while Kylo and her come to an understanding of both wanting to mess with Hux, through all sorts of shenanigans, Kylo and the Reader fall for each other? Much to Hux's dismay 😂

I love how this turned out honestly, it was such a good idea on your part!!

PART TWO

Word count: 3004

Warnings: implied sexual content, Hux getting Extra™️ stressed, borderline crack fic??

Notes: reader is Hux’s sister, but I’ve left it open to be either blood related or adopted so you can choose which you’d rather interpret it as!

Also if anyone wants a part two, drop the request in my asks because I’d be so up for writing that!

Sibling Rivalry

"You're late." Hux was impatiently tapping his foot as you arrived on the bridge of The Supremacy.

"Got lost, this place is way bigger than Steadfast." You huffed, scurrying to his side as you mockingly stood to attention.

"And the uniform?"  He simply raised an eyebrow, looking you up and down as he outwardly judged your appearance.

"This is how I always wear it."  You shrugged, not willing to change. You wore your standard First Order jacket which went down to your upper-thigh, with a belt cinched around your waist. But rather than the baggy trousers, you opted for a slightly tighter option which you felt were much more flattering, and comfortable. Not to the mention that you refused to wear the hat. Instead, you kept your hair tied back in a braid.

"Well, it's not standard issue. Tomorrow I expect to see you in the correct uniform." He hissed.

"Don't hold your breath, Armitage." You laughed, dryly, "last time I checked, wearing a different pair of trousers doesn't affect my ability to my job." You smirked as you shot him down, knowing that you were going to continue wearing what you were more comfortable in.

"Please don't be over-familiar Lieutenant Hux." He spoke to you in a pointed tone, and you rolled your eyes.

"Not embarrassed of me are you, brother dearest?" You teased him, but his expression remained solemn. Of course, this was normal for Hux, but usually when it came to you he would at least loosen up enough to take a joke.

Gently taking your arm he led you away from any prying ears, "Y/N listen to me, I didn't want you getting this promotion-" You immediately attempted to open your mouth and protest this, but he held his finger up to shush you, before continuing, "-I didn't want you to get it because Kylo Ren killed the last person to have your job, and I'd rather not have you be next."

Your mouth formed an 'o' shape, but no sound came out. Were you as afraid of Kylo Ren as everyone else? No. But you knew just how much your older brother hated the man, and you could tell that Armitage was just worrying for you.

Armitage had always been the golden child, prim and proper. You, on the other hand, you had grown up being the rebellious one, and that hadn't changed when you had followed him to the First Order. Although you were excellent at your job, you didn't much care for the strict rules, and part of you had always enjoyed winding your brother up by constantly rebelling. You didn't intend to change just because Kylo Ren had killed someone who had once been in your position.

"I get the message, Armitage." You flashed him a cheeky grin, "I'll stay out of trouble."

"Why do I fear that is simply not true." He pinched the bridge of his nose - he knew you far too well.

A week went by before you met the infamous Kylo Ren, and in that time you had prided yourself on making your brother's life more and more difficult every day. However, you kept doing your job and doing it well at that. You were popular amongst other officers, mostly because of the way you could get away with relentlessly teasing the General.

The day you met Commander Ren, he had attended a meeting which you and your brother were both apart of. Knowing that he was there and that he allegedly hated Armitage, you remained on your best behaviour. You would rather not have him hate you simply by association with your family name. However, you slipped up at the end of the meeting, unable to prevent yourself from teasing your brother when he walked himself into an easy joke.

"-and I expect to see you all training this afternoon in preparation for your upcoming missions."

"I don't think I've ever seen you step foot in the training room, General." You laughed, "how would you know if we're there or not?" A few sniggers rose from around the table, and immediately you felt Ren's eyes burning a hole in the side of your head. When you met his gaze you could read his expression with ease: curiosity. He wondered who would possibly speak to Hux that way, and who could possibly get away with it.

"Watch your tone, Leuitenant Hux." Your brother was bright red in the face, mostly because he was embarrassed that there was truth behind your words, and also because he knew that Ren was in the room.

You noticed the Commander's eyes widen slightly as he most likely put two and two together, you were just silently praying that he didn't decide to decapitate you just because you were related to his arch-nemesis.

On the contrary, however, he actually spoke and his words truly surprised you. "Perhaps the Lieutenant has a point, General. Sometimes it's best to lead by example." He had a deep voice and an undeniably attractive face... Maker, if Armitage knew that you found Kylo Ren in the least bit attractive he would probably eject himself into space. But then again, you did perhaps see it as an opportunity for some fun.

It didn't take long for your brother to adjourn the meeting after being mocked by not only you but also Kylo Ren. As you rose from your seat you moved to exit and walk by Armitage, but he grabbed your arm to hold you back for a moment.

"Y/N, I am at the end of my tether with you." He sternly told you, "why is it that you cannot simply do your job without the foolish comments? And Maker help me will I one day see you in the correct uniform?" He may as well have had steam coming from his ears. He looked as though he would spontaneously combust at any given moment, which only caused you to try and stifle a laugh which threatened to escape your lips.

"Hux, a word?" Kylo Ren's approaching voice saved you from your imminent scolding, and you both turned to face him.

"Not now Ren, I'm busy." Your brother snapped, but Ren was visibly unphased by this tone, something told you he was possibly even amused by it.

"Lieutenant Hux, not you." He nonchalantly clarified, and you furrowed your brow at him.

"Is there a problem, Sir?" You asked.

"So you'll show respect to Ren, but not me... typical." Armitage scoffed under his breath, and you simply elbowed him in response.

"Don't mind my brother, Armitage is just concerned that you'll kill me for being associated with him." You shrugged as your attention returned to Kylo.

"I'd sooner kill you than I would her, Armitage." Ren snorted, mocking the general as the two of you walked away from him. It was written all over his face that he couldn't possibly comprehend that his little sister and arch-nemesis were possibly about to gang up on him.

As you departed alongside Ren, you were both silent. Only when you left the bridge and fell into stride in the corridor did he speak.

"I didn't know Hux had a sister." He plainly said, and you exhaled a short laugh.

"Yes well, I don't do his uptight image any favours, so I think he tends to keep me a secret." You snorted, "not to mention he's convinced that you'll kill me just to get at him."

"Who's to say I won't?" Kylo Ren was clearly trying to get the measure of you, so that question was a challenge, you knew that.

"I'm still breathing, aren't I? If you were really going to kill me to get at Armitage you'd at least do it in front of him." You shrugged as if the whole threat didn't bother you in the slightest.

He hummed in response, changing the subject, "you're not much like Hux."

"I should hope not." You laughed, "I was always the fun one... much to Armitage's distaste."

"He doesn't seem to appreciate your sense of humour." He said this whilst giving a pointed look at your obviously incorrect uniform.

"Well, that's my brother for you. But correct me if I'm wrong Sir, you don't exactly strike me as the 'fun' type either." You raised an eyebrow.

"That depends on what you call 'fun.'" When he looked at you, you could have sworn you saw a mischievous smirk forming on his lips.

As the weeks went by, you and Ren spent more time together - rather, he seemed to spend more time around you. It was like he purposely timed his schedule to coincide with yours, and you weren't mad about that at all. The more time you spent with him, the more attractive he became, and stars you had been particularly enjoying watching him train most days.

You still spent much of your time pestering your brother, but even he had simply grown used to it by now. He made conscious efforts to sit and have an evening meal with you a few times a week, and despite all of his irksome mannerisms, you appreciated how much he cared about you.

"Phasma tells me you've been spending an awful lot of time with Ren in the training room." Trying to act nonchalant about it, Armitage casually brought his cup of caf up to his lips. You meanwhile found it amusing that he was indulging in gossip simply because it involved you and Kylo.

"Perhaps it's just a coincidence that we're there at the same time." You smirked at the mere thought of watching Ren when he's training, but you had to snap yourself out of it.

"I highly doubt that." He snorted, "I imagine he's waiting for an opportunity to strike you down."

"Are you perhaps being a bit paranoid?"  You raised an eyebrow. You found it amusing that your brother was so caught up in his feud with Kylo Ren that he hadn't for one second thought that Kylo might have been following you because he liked you.

"No, I'm telling you Y/N, he's dangerous. He has no redeeming qualities." He hissed.

"I wouldn't go that far." You shrugged, kicking your feet up onto Armitage's desk, much to his dismay, "he's hot, I'd call that a redeeming quality."

Now your boots on his desk were the least of his problems, upon hearing your words he choked on his caf, coughing and spluttering for a few moments. You were still sat calmly, smirking as you enjoyed watching his overreaction.

"You are to stay away from him Y/N, do you understand?" His face was redder than Kylo's Lightsaber at this point, and you weren't sure if he was angry at Ren for allegedly leading his sister astray, or embarrassed by your comment about Kylo being hot... perhaps a combination of the two.

"Don't hold your breath, Armitage."  You playfully winked at him before leaving his office.

"Y/N!" He called after you, "I'm serious, stay away from him!"

"Yep, I hear you." You sarcastically called to him, turning back around as you walked. Before you could straighten up again you collided with what felt like a brick wall, but when two hands took ahold of your waist to steady you, you realised who it was.

"Maker, why do I even bother?" You could hear Hux exclaim from his office, "Keep your hands off my sister Ren." He then yelled, turning tail and storming back into his office.

"Sorry, he just really hates you." You teased, "me not hating you is probably his worst nightmare."

Kylo usually showed up at random points throughout your day, but considering that this meeting with Armitage hadn't been on your schedule, it was truly surprising to see him. You were suspicious that the Force was somehow involved.

"And I assume he's asked you to stay away from me." He hummed as you walked side by side, heading towards your office where there was likely a stack of datapads for you to go through before turning in for the night. Kylo had taken to sitting in there with you and keeping you company whilst you worked. Somedays you wondered if he ever actually did any of his own work.

"You tell me, you were the one eavesdropping." You had a knowing smirk on your lips, whilst he looked like he had just been caught red-handed.

"I-uh, I didn't want to interrupt." He sheepishly said.

"Did you hear anything you liked?" There was a suggestive edge to your tone now. Whilst you found him undeniably attractive, there was also the added benefit of pissing off Armitage beyond belief by doing the polar opposite of staying away from Kylo.

He picked up on this tone and looked at you quizzically for a moment. It wasn't long before a mischievous grin appeared on his lips. "Something about my redeeming qualities maybe?" You had both stopped walking at this point, simply staring at each other to the point where you could have cut the sexual tension with a knife.

"Y'know, I just remembered that I need to go back to my quarters to pick something up." You eventually broke the silence, hoping that Ren would get the idea.

"Lead the way." He said, trying to keep his tone level as he remembered that you were both still out in the open.

Your quarters wasn't a far walk, but it felt like miles with the ever-building tension. You wanted nothing more than to finally see if Kylo Ren was as good in bed as he was in the training room. When you rounded the final corner, you pulled him through the blast doors without warning which sent him colliding into you, which you used as an opportunity to capture his lips in a steamy kiss - something you had both wanted to do for a long time.

He wasted no time in pushing you back against the nearest wall, his tongue eagerly exploring your mouth as you began to pull at his endless layers of clothing. Before you could remove too many layers, he was mumbling at you to show him where the bedroom was, and it was safe to say that you never made it to your office that evening.

After multiple rounds, Kylo spent the night, and when morning broke you decided to ditch your schedule and spend time in bed with him, just aimlessly talking.

"What is it about you?" He asked in his deep voice, "you're all I've been able to think about." He confessed.

"I noticed." You teased him, "following me around like a shadow."

"Coming from you, that's funny." He smirked. "I've been hearing your thoughts since you first got here, it's like you've been projecting them to me."

You realised just how many times you had thought about Kylo since you had first met him and on some occasions, you had definitely thought about him in less than appropriate scenarios. Although looking at your current situation, that had probably worked out in your favour.

"So what exactly is it about me then? Just that you can hear my thoughts?" You slowly began tracing your finger up and down his bare chest.

"I don't know." He mused, "I should hate you."

"What, just because of my brother?" You laughed, "you said it yourself, I'm not much like him."

"And I'd rather keep it that way." Kylo snorted, leaning in to kiss you again, but he was interrupted by a loud hammering at the door.

"Y/N you have missed three meetings this morning. So help me, you had best have a good excuse-" Armitage's angry rambling continued at the door, you and Kylo exchanging a look from your spot on the bed. With a heavy sigh, you moved to get up and dressed but Kylo placed a hand on your shoulder.

"I'll get it." He said, and you looked at him with a mischievous grin on your face.

"You're evil Kylo, you know that."

"Especially where your brother is concerned." He grunted, walking to the blast door wearing just a pair of loose trousers.

When the door swung open, Hux's jaw practically hit the floor, his face immediately turning a bright shade of red.

"Ren." He snarled, "what in the stars are you doing in my sister's quarters?"

"She needed a good excuse to avoid her meetings." He smugly looked at Armitage, clearly revelling in his sheer rage.

Slowly glancing over Kylo's shoulder, he saw you laying on the bed with the sheets pooled around your body to cover it, and if he hadn't put two and two together already, now it was staring him right in the face.

"Sorry Armitage, Commander Ren personally excused me from my meetings. Did you not get the message?"

"My sister..." He looked at Kylo, his words coming out as a low growl. "MY LITTLE SISTER?" This time he yelled, and you couldn't help but burst into laughter from your spot on the bed, burying your face in the pillow to stifle the cackles.

Kylo made a point of looking back at you, then to Armitage, then to you, then back to Armitage. "Yes, she was the last time I checked." He raised an eyebrow, enjoying your brother's blinding rage far too much.

"I swear Ren I am going to end your miserable little life in the most painful, unimaginable way possible, and even when you beg for death I will show you no mercy. I will-" Hux was jabbing his finger in Kylo's face, but he remained completely unphased.

"-ooookay Armitage, I think that's quite enough for today." Holding the sheets around your body you shuffled over and pushed your brother out of the room. Before the doors could shut you glanced at Kylo who just gave you a pointed look and small shrug, "oh, and I think I'll need the rest of the day off as well." With that you let the doors slam in Armitage's face, and fell back into Kylo's arms.

As you dropped the sheets and relaxed into the kiss, you could both hear Armitage's last yell as he stormed out of your quarters.

"Dead, Ren... DEAD!"

[seancerpg-archived]

THE GOVERNOR

Name: Ishmael Hassan

Age: 34

Pronouns: He/Him

FC: Oliver Jackson-Cohen

BIOGRAPHY

tw - drugs, murder, addiction

He's never been much of a loner. The Governor was born to a large, and loving, family, surrounded by brothers and sisters and parents who adored him. He grew far too used to the bustle of a busy household, and though poor, they were merry. From a young age, responsibility fell upon his shoulders, and he bore it well. He was barely in his teenage years when he first took to the docks for work, but he was a strapping lad for his age, tall and strong and a hard-worker. Whilst most of his wages went to supporting his siblings, he had the good sense to put some by, in a locked box under a creaking floorboard, away from prying eyes and curious fingers. Over the years, the coins added up, and soon he had enough to set up on his own. He thought long and hard about his next move - he knew no trade but the manual labour he performed at the docks, and he wouldn't be young and fit enough to carry on forever. But it seemed the hand of fate was there to guide him - a friend from the docks told him of a pub in Dorset Street, recently up for auction at a cut-price cost, and by the end of the week, The Governor was the proud landlord of The Britannia.

It seemed a natural fit for a man so used to the company of others. The location was hardly idyllic, lying on the corner of one of the poorest districts in the city and frequented by the dregs of society, but The Governor cut an imposing figure. Years of the docks had left him strong, broad of shoulder and more than capable of dealing with troubles when they arise. It wasn't long, though, before he found himself getting caught up in trouble himself. It was only too easy to source laudanum, a opium mixture popular with his working-class patrons, and the more The Governor took, the more he craved. Soon, he was spending more than he was earning, and, unable to stop, had to look at other alternatives to keep his business from crumbling. Much of his clientele were crooks, and the allure of the money to be made involving himself in their schemes was too much to resist. It was only small things, at first - hiding smuggled or stolen goods in the cellar, using the pub as a place to hide from the police. Before he knew it, he was embroiled in large crimes, directly involved in the activities of the local gangs that plagued the area.

And so it went. After shutting up the bar for the night, The Governor would retire upstairs, indulging in the narcotics hidden in the box he still keeps under his bed. At first, the hallucinations were relaxing, fun even, but after a while, they started to take a more sinister turn. While he slept, he dreamed of the glimmer of a knife, the spurt of blood hot against his face, but when he awoke, he found he couldn't decipher fact from delusion. With a killer on the loose, The Governor doubts his own innocence, believing he was the one to commit the horrific crimes splashed across the front pages of London's newspapers. If only he bothered to speak to any of his customers, he would soon find an alibi, but guilt gnaws at him, causing the once-outgoing man to become a withdrawn loner. What's worse, he's found himself eyeing up the people who frequent his establishment, wondering who will be his next victim - unaware that none of the mounting pile of bodies ever crossed his path on the fateful night when they met their end.

THE GHOST

It's violent. Whatever is haunting him, it's out for blood - though it is too weak to cause any degree of harm yet. Instead, it lies in wait, feeding off of guilt and misery, growing ever more amused by the governor's misplaced guilt. It started with nightmares. His mind was deliciously open to all forms of manipulation, and it was only too easy to slip in while it was dreaming, planting thoughts of horrific attacks The Governor did not commit and addling his already hazy memories. Nightmares became hallucinations, dashes of blood that weren't really there, anything to drive him further to despair. It's gathered enough strength to send glasses flying from their shelves to shatter against the walls, and it won't rest until it is able to cause the pain and suffering it desperately craves.

CONNECTIONS

THE WAIF: They come in most nights, and more often than not leaves with a client of their own in tow. At first, he was happy to turn a blind eye to their solicitation. He doesn't judge them. Everyone has to make a living, and he won't begrudge them for doing what they have to do. However, recently he can't help but be drawn to them - of all of those he casts his eye over, it seems most likely they'll be the next target of the infamous ripper. Try as he might, he can't keep his gaze from them, overwhelmed with shame over what he may do if he followed them into the night.

THE ACTRESS: She's a star on the rise, and yet, she still frequents his bar, seemingly unaware that she sticks out like a sore thumb. He can't help but wonder why someone of her stature would even venture into The East End in the first place. Still, she doesn't seem perturbed by his usual clientele, and he can't help but wonder the reason why - perhaps she has a secret on par with his own. When she does show up, she's usually the last to leave, and he can't help but feel paranoid about what she might have seen him do. If she knows something, she's keeping quiet for now, leaving him to wonder what it is that she wants.

THE THIEF: They've been working together for a little while now, and despite his less-than-noble profession, The Governor can't help but feel a sort of respect for the other man. He's been in the game for a while now, and the connections and reach he provides are valuable. Still, he demands ever more from The Governor, and the burden is starting to weigh heavily on his shoulders. As much as he tries to carry on, The Governor's addiction has begun to make it hard to keep up with The Thief's seemingly endless schemes, and the other man is growing more and more frustrated, fracturing the formerly harmonious relationship between the pair.

THE ALCHEMIST: She's an expert in potions and substances, and he's been frequenting her shop of late, only too willing to try out the experimental concoctions she conjures for a fraction of the price. She's been more reluctant to hand over her products as of late, though, recognising the signs of addiction in his tired eyes. As of late, he's noticed that her mixtures have been less effective, chalking it up to a growing tolerance, but continually has to come up with new excuses to prise more of what he craves from her reluctant hands.

THE GOVERNOR IS PLAYED BY RILEY

[rcmos]

hello !! im june && im so excited to be here. i’m here to hoard all the plots like a goblin with my trashy son so please like this post if you’d like to plot && i’ll hit you up asap !! coolcoolcoolcool

( henry zaga / male ) LEONARDO RAMOS is 25 years old and is a SENIOR at thales university. he is majoring in BUSSINESS and is known for being THE STEPFORD SMILER as he can be CHARASMATIC and AFFABLE as well as DISINGENUOUS and DECEPTIVE. every time i see him, he reminds me of a CHARMING SMILE, SCATTERED POLAROIDS, AND A CALCULATED DEMEANOR. ( june / 24 / she&her / gmt+2)

BASICS.

✘ leonardo ramos was originally born in brazil and later moved to the states when he was 10 years of age

✘ 25 years of age, born 13th of june

✘ member of the ghoul gang, close friend to steven.

✘ has a somewhat secret passion for photography

✘ somewhat recently discovered bisexual, exploring and figuring out his sexuality

✘ social smoker who has tried to quit many times 

✘ grandfather is a cop and leo would often sneak into his office to poke and pry into files. he especially fell in love with crime scene photos and developed a bizarre obsession with crime and the macabre.

ABOUT.

✘  leonardo ramos was born into the ‘picture perfect’ family. perfect home, perfect marriage, perfect children. his father an incredibly successful business owner while his mother is a hot shot lawyer. appearances are everything to the ramos and this extends to the ramos children as well. his eldest brother followed in his mother’s footsteps and pursued law, leaving the expectation of taking over the family bussiness in the hands of leonardo. his life was planned from the moment he was born, and he’s never known anything else.

✘  despite what image may appear on the outside, the ramos family in highly dysfunctional. there is no love, there is no affection, there is only appearances. the american dream on the outside, numbess on the inside. they do what they must, not what they desire. everything is neatly placed on the shelf for all to see, but no one seems to notice the cracks that linger.

✘  leo does not have a genuine personality. it is incredibly rehearsed and planned. every word, action and emotion is carefully calculated. everything must be in life with the image of perfection in mind. he was taught how to behave and anything less would not be tolerated. his facade comes across as exceptionally sweet and kind, a man who always knows what to say. some say his kindness and easy-going nature is his best virtue, a golden boy. he is not kind because he wants to be, or because he cares, it’s what is expected of him. 

✘  leo is the kind of person you want to bring home to your parents, someone to polite and affectionate. he always knows what to say, his gestures always endearing. his charm gets him where he needs to be, a perfect smile that never cracks. a heart of gold some may say. however, it’s all an act. leo very rarely acts on emotion, if anything emotions are a foreign concept to him. no, leonardo has learned to mimic those around him. every response, every feeling, every situation has a formulated response. nothing is natural, nothing comes from the heart, it is very analytical and precise.

✘ not many people are aware of how deceptive leo is, he plays it off very well. it’s the entire point, to pretend and fool those around him. to carefully create a pristine image of himself. the perfect son, the perfect student -- whoever he was expected to be he plays it off well. most people are under the notion that he is perfectly kind and sweet, a genuine soul who truly cares. hell, at time leo even falls for his own act. he forgets it’s not who he is. he forgets how robotic and calculated he is. he forgets how empty and hollow his heart truly is.

✘  the only genuine aspect about leo is his passion, perhaps obsession, with true crime and mystery. as a child he snuck into his grandfather’s office and peeked through his files, especially the photographs. such graphic and gruesome photos seemed to have scarred him, but not in a way one might except. it began an obsession. poking his nose into places he shouldn’t. if his life was his own, he would have pursued criminology. that was not apart of the ramos’ family plan, however. so he keeps it to himself, and a few select friends. 

✘  leo’s second passion in life would be photography. however, not really for the art of it all. no, he likes to document things. locations, details, mysteries....however, people are his favourite subject. he snaps these photographs without their knowledge, or permission rather, as he likes to keep track of those around them. analyze them on a much more personal level. he likes to watch and take notice mimic behaviours so he can better perfect himself. he likes to think of himself as some detective uncovering the truth, when in reality he’s simply allowing obsession to take control of him.

✘  leo tends to keep to himself, closed off when it comes to anything personal involving him. there are few who know him past the image he has created for himself, particularly the ghoul gang, the ones he indulges with and shows a different side of him. however, despite allowing others to be closer to him, everything is still calculated. he picks and chooses what he allows others to see. it’s the only way he knows how to function. raw emotions cause him to irrational and at times manics,

✘  the death of steven was a situation he never quite expected, nor planned for. the emotions that came with it were unfamiliar and terrified him. so he shut them all off. his response has been robotic, static, empty. he did not cry, he did not mourn, he simply remained blank. he cannot calculate the situation,  he cannot plan or mimic. he has no idea what to do, and it has left his deceptive nature open to the world to see. how can someone to be analytical of a close friend’s death. how is he supposed to keep his pristine image in tact once his friends finally see the emptiness behind his eyes. 

WANTED CONNECTIONS.:

✘  first relationship -- he’s dated many people in his life, but there was one person that came into his life that he, somehow, developed very deep and true feelings for. it scared him, he couldn’t quite plan past his nerves, and often fumbled and messed up quite often. the relationship inevitably failed and leo found it near impossible to open himself up completely.  

✘  exes -- he’s had various relationships here and there ( a man has needs ykno ), some ended on good terms while others were bad. some were superficial, some were something more. 

✘  best friend -- someone who he lets in, just a little. they know him more than most, and they can see past his act and choose to stick along anyways. they try their best to find the real leo, but it’s proven to be difficult. there’s glimpses of him, however. somewhere deep down a genuine soul lurks. 

✘  ghoul gang -- they perhaps know him better than anyone else. the people he geeks out with about mystery and crime. the ones he most likely spends time with the most. 

✘  experimenting -- someone he’s figuring out his sexuality with, someone to explore new things with. he doesn’t quite understand himself nor how he feels. he’s not hiding it, but he’s not open about it either. those who know, simply know, and he doesn’t quite divulge much with anyone else besides the person he’s with.   

✘  enemies -- people he just seems to clash with. he’ll remain sweet and kind as ever, but there’s a certain bite to it all. besides, it’s something fun to analyze. 

✘  study buddies, same majors, party friends, etc. -- anything and everything honestly. 

IM DOWN FOR ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING PLS HIT ME UP 

[itisannak]

Coachella (Ashton Irwin Smut)

Summary: Ashton gets a bit turned on by (Y/N)'s Coachella outfit. (Smut / Unprotected Sex / Oral; Female Receiving / Loud Sex / Public Touching / Teasing) (Request) (Words: 2.3k)

"Isn't that outfit a little too skimpy, angel?" Ashton whispers in my ear as he wraps his arms around me from behind. I chuckle, turning my head a little so I can look at him. "You think so, daddy? Haven't you seen how everyone else dresses here in Coachella?" I ask, leaving a peck on his jaw, just on the spot that connects it with his neck. "Everyone is staring at what is mine... And I don't really like them looking..." He groans, pressing my ass up against his boner. "What, you don't like bragging? All they can do is look, you have the privilege of touching too." I remind him, taking his hand and placing it on my hip, just at the place where my thigh ends and my crotch begins. "I still don't like the way that guy stares at you." He points out at a guy behind us, who has been eyeing me since the beginning of the show. "So, let him... We all know who is going to take me to his hotel room, get this little outfit off of me and fuck me to oblivion, don't we, daddy?" I ask, making sure to plant kisses all the way from his jaw to his pouting bottom lip. "I will be really pissed if that ain't me." He groans, turning me around so he can stare me in the eye. "You think I have eyes for anyone else? You are the only person I care about here... Maybe Luke too, but only a little bit because he is a little drunk..." I grab his face in my hands, bringing it closer to mine before I plant a kiss on his lips. "He has a girlfriend to care for him." He scoffs, pressing his forehead against mine as his arms tighten around my waist, holding me to his body almost possessively. "Come on... Let me buy you a mocktail..." I giggle, taking his hand in mine before I make our way to the drink kiosk.

Ashton keeps me glued to his body as we jam to the performance, sipping our drinks as we dance. He has his hands resting on the sides of my stomach, just showing off to anyone who dares throw me a second look. I really don't mind, I simply adore his touch, so I take it any way I can. "Wanna go back to our hotel room? I have plans for us..." Ashton whispers in my ear, biting on my neck softly. "Not yet... I wanna see the show..." I reply, biting on my lip as a little light bulb goes off over my head. "You really prefer the show over me?" He asks, faking a gasp. "We paid good money for the tickets. It would be a pity to go this early." I reply, shrugging my shoulders. "You have to be kidding me..." He complains, but his arms wrap around my body even tighter as he finally gives in, going back to swaying us to the music.

I lean my head on his shoulder, sticking my ass out until it is pressed against his cock. I tilt my head until my face is almost buried in the crook of his neck, pressing my lips on his jawline, nibbling softly on his skin before my tongue traces a small pattern on it. "I thought you wanted to see the show..." Ashton mumbles as I grind my ass on his cock, trying to pry a boner out of him. "Am I not watching the show?" I ask, planting a hickey on his skin, earning a moan from him. "Yeah, but your ass is on my cock, princess." He groans, squeezing his hands on my hips. "Oh, is it? I wouldn't have known..." I play the innocent, wiggling my ass on his cock. "You know that you have a pretty nice high slit in your dress, right? One that I can just slip my hand in and get to your actual slit... Your pretty little pussy..." He whispers in my ear, biting on my earlobe as his hand inches down from my stomach to my thigh, toying with the hem of the slit. I tense up, feeling his fingers trace my skin. "You wouldn't... There are a lot of people here..." I breathe out heavily, reaching down to take his hand in mine, gripping on it as hard as I can. "Wouldn't you like to show off? Show everyone how good my fingers make you feel?" He asks, while my stomach burns from his teasing. "Ash..." I whine, earning a chuckle from him. "We can just go back to our hotel room, be just me and you, and I will make you feel really good, or I can do just the same, only in here, in front of everyone... You choose, babygirl." Ashton whispers, his tone changing into a groggy, dominant one. "You wouldn't dare..." I try to call on his bluff but the chuckle he lets out as his hand inches up toward my sex, tells me that he is really not fucking around. "Wanna try me, baby?" He asks, humming at the end. My breath gets caught in my lungs, body tensing up as his fingertip follows my bikini line. "What are we gonna tell the gang?" I ask, already melting into a puddle as I close my eyes and imagine what is in for me. "They won't give a shit about us leaving..." He whispers, kissing on my temple.

The door to our room barely unlocks the moment Ashton pulls down the straps of my top, exposing my breasts to him as he pushes me onto the large bed, with his knee between my thighs. "Mine... All fucking mine..." He groans, cupping my breasts, and tracing his thumbs over my nipples. He pinches and pulls on them until I whimper and throw my head back in frustration. His mouth joins in the torture, biting onto my nub as his fingers work on taking off my skirt. "Ashton..." I moan, bringing my hands to his head, tangling my fingers in his hair. "What baby? I told you I would make you feel good..." He mumbles, moving to my other nipple. He circles his tongue around my peeking nub before he gets his teeth grazing over the very tip. "I need your cock..." I cry out, arching my back and pressing my chest to his face. "Oh, you do baby? How bad do you need it?" He asks, crawling down my body, trailing his lips down my stomach, and biting onto the part where my skirt's button has left indents on my skin. "So bad... I am aching for you..." I whine, my toes curling as he leaves open-mouthed kisses on my lower stomach. "Should have thought of that when you were grinding your pretty ass on my cock in front of everyone. I bet you are really wet... I bet you have soaked through your panties...." He whispers, taking my skirt off and dropping it on the floor by the bed. "Why don't you just see yourself, baby?" I almost beg, biting on my bottom lip as I wait for his next move.

He doesn't waste a minute before my underwear is shredded off my body and his arms snake around my thighs. His tongue laps on my core, making me let out a scream as he keeps my ass raised off the mattress, divulging in my taste. His hands squeeze on my ass, as his tongue circles on my entrance, darting the tip of his tongue inside me. "Ash..." I cry out, my stomach clenching at the sensation. My hands ball in the sheets, pulling at them as I shut my eyes. He moans against my pussy, one of his hands slapping my ass before he lets me rest back on the mattress. "You like that, baby? You like it when I eat your fucking pussy?" He asks, bringing his hand between my thighs and letting his fingers stroke my lips. "I fucking love it..." I sigh in relief as his tongue engulfs my clit, flicking over it while he slips 2 fingers in me, pumping them fast.

I buck my hips up against his face, humping over it as I try to get off, warmth spreading all over my gut. I ignore any precautions of being heard and let out scream after scream, while Ashton's fingers curl inside me, pressing on my spot. My eyes roll to the back of my head as he grazes his teeth over my nub, involuntarily making my thighs press together, only to be stopped by his free hand slapping the inside of my thigh. "You are going to keep your fucking legs open for me, aren't you, angel? You are going to keep your pretty legs open while I make you cum on my fingers, huh baby?" He asks, biting on my thigh at the end of the question, surely leaving a mark there. "I need your cock, please." I cry, practically humping nothing as I try to get his fingers to thrust right on my spot. "Beg a little more, angel. Maybe you'll get what you want then..." He teases, bringing his thumb to draw circles on my clit. "Fuck me, daddy... Please... I need your fucking cock deep inside me... Pretty please... It tingles inside." I mumble, moaning as my stomach tightens, building up towards an orgasm. "That's the best you can do? Come on, honey, we both know you can do better." He chuckles, crawling up so his face is on the same level as mine. "I need you so badly, Ash... Please..." I pout, looking at him with the most pleading look I can muster. "You are so fucking wet... And so fucking tight... You think my cock will fit inside your tight little pussy?" He asks, raising his eyebrow at me. I nod my head, feeling him pull his fingers out. I groan at the loss of the sensation, staring at Ashton as he smirks at my reaction. "Look how hard you made my cock..." He spreads my legs more, wrapping them around his waist before he taps his cock against my clit.

Finally, he thrusts inside me, slamming his hips on mine forcefully. "Fuck..." I scream, my eyes going wide. He brings my leg over his shoulder, gaining deeper access as he leans forward, resting his forehead on top of mine. "What baby? Thought you wanted it deep..." He teases, giving me a short thrust while holding me pinned to the mattress. My head falls back, eyes shutting as I try to indulge in the sensation he is giving me, my breathing getting more shallow as he keeps on pounding inside me. "More... I need more of you." I cry out, my leg that is still wrapped around his waist pulling his hip closer. His hands support my thighs pressing them up to my chest as he goes as deep as it can get, pounding in me with all he has. The bed rattles, hitting the wall behind it. Ashton just hisses, changing the angle as he tries to find the one that will make me scream.

His skin slapping on mine, the sounds he makes as he ravages me, how nicely his throbbing cock fills me up, all of that sums up to the tight knot in my stomach. "You like my cock, my little slut? Like how deep it reaches inside you? See how it makes your belly bulge... I am going to fill that belly up with my cum... Look how fucking wet that little pussy is for me... I bet all the people looking at you in that fucking outfit made you wet... You like it when people stare at what is mine to touch, don't you? You like showing off how sexy my pretty little slut is... My fucking slut..." He rasps, slapping his hand down on the side of my ass. "I wanna cum..." I cry out, feeling everything inside me intensifying. "Yeah, you wanna?" He asks, almost mocking me. "Please... I wanna cum..." I whine, feeling my head becoming heavy, my orgasm slowly creeping toward me. "Of course you do, baby. You have been pulsing around my fucking cock for so long now. Cum around this fucking cock, baby. Grip my cock with your pretty little pussy..." He commands, his hand moving up to the side of my face, resting there and forcing me to keep eye contact as he pounds, hitting my spot until I collapse, finally letting my high wash over me.

I ignore that the hotel is packed with people and that soundproof is not a word in the hotel management's dictionary and scream until my lungs hurt and I can barely draw a breath. Ashton keeps on fucking me, slamming on me fast as I pulse around him, groaning as he gets closer to his orgasm, becoming sloppier with every thrust. He finally cums inside me, letting the warm feeling spread in my body, make me hold onto the high of my orgasm for a little longer.

He pulls out, taking a look at my dripping core, smiling at what he has caused. His hand collapses on my clit, one time, two times, three, making me jolt back at the stinging -but pleasureful- feeling. I am breathing hard, looking at the ceiling as I try to come down, while Ashton relaxes next to me, laying on his back. "How the fuck do you become better and better every time we fuck?" I ask, feeling my body becoming sore, my legs feeling like they are on fire. "I have you hooked, don't I?" He asks cockily, the chuckle at the end of the sentence sounding a little too brass. "If I knew you would get this rough, I would dress like that more often..." I state, turning my head to the side to look at him. "Baby, it's not the clothes that get me going crazy for you..." He replies, planting a kiss on my forehead.

--

Author Note: For some reason, this is one of the very few stories I didn't feel like writing (even though it is a nice and easy plot), so excuse it if it is a little wonky at some parts.

[jjbaconsumedmysoul]

How would the Bruno gang react to their crush sleeping on the couch 🌚 ---- Narancia loving anon

(Sorry for the delay on… well, everything! But i don’t wanna do tomorrow’s homework :p )

Giorno’s heart would flutter at the sight of them all curled up into the cushions. He’d be tempted to join them if he wasn’t busy. But he pauses for a moment, gently sitting beside their sleeping figure. He can’t resist gazing down at their soft features, the way their eyelashes rested against their flushed cheeks… He sighs as he gently pulls a lock of hair away from their forehead. This is what they deserved: to be comfortable and happy and safe forever. Before he resumed his work, he’d hesitate for a moment. Then, he’d place a gentle kiss on their forehead, before whispering softly “Sogni d’oro” (Sweet dreams)

Bruno doesn’t consider himself to be overly emotional or sentimental. He’s a gangster after all, he cares for his men but can’t afford to show soft feelings. But when he sees them lying there, his heart absolutely melts. The first thing he notices is that there’s no blanket covering them, that they had likely fallen asleep in the middle of something rather than taking a planned nap. He smiles gently as he removed the book or phone or whatever they had fallen asleep on top of, and hurries to retrieve a comforter from his bedroom. Once he’s laid the cover over them, he can’t help but stare at their tender face. But he resists his urges, as he’s always done. He doesn’t wish to wake them from their peaceful slumber. 

Mista is completely floored when he sees them resting on the couch. His cheeks heat up as his eyes graze over their body, he’s not thinking anything lewd of course! They’re just… so cute… so gorgeous… He’ll give in to his temptation to approach them, to sit down gently on the sofa next to their curled up frame. The last thing he wants to do is wake them up, but, just maybe… He runs their fingers across their cheek, marvelling at how soft it is, how gentle their expression, how adorable their just barey pursed lips… Oh god, he has to hold himself back for just kissing them then and there. He ends up sitting next to them for a while, glancing over occasionally, a blush still coating his cheeks.

Narancia has no shame. He is bold and brash, and if he sees his crush curled up on the sofa he will pounce! Not literally, of course. He’ll just, slowly, carefully slide in next to them, wrapping his arms around their waist and burying his face into their shoulder. Only afterwards does he realise that maybe he shouldn’t always follow his first instinct. If they haven’t been woken up by his snuggling up next to them, he’ll be frozen in fear for a while, not quite sure how to get out of the situation, his thoughts racing about whether they’re gonna think it’s weird, whether they’ll see him as less of a man, whether they’ll want him after this. But then again, they’re so so soft. So warm. Within minutes, he’s fallen asleep beside them

The faintest of blushes crosses Abbacchio’s cheeks as he sees them napping on the couch. He almost walks right past them, thinking nothing of it. But something about their pouting lips, their softened features, the way their chest slowly rises and falls with their breaths… It draws him in, and he can’t help but stand and stare for a moment. He hesitantly takes a step towards them, before noticing a small shiver in their sleep. After retrieving a thin blanket from the closet, he gently places it over their figure, absentmindedly running his hand up and down their shoulder to sooth them as they slumber. He should probably pry himself away, he knows they’ll never share his feelings, that he shouldn’t indulge in this sort of situation. But he can’t help but feel peace and comfort.

Fugo would be a bit mad at first. Didn’t they have work to do? Why were they just lying around here on the couch? He was about to wake them up when he notices the peaceful expression on their face. Oh. Damn. They were so beautiful right now. His face reddened and his chest grew tight as he falters. Maybe another minute of sleep wouldn’t hurt. Maybe sitting beside them wouldn’t hurt either. He represses his urge to press his lips to their soft cheek. He’s always had urges like that, but for some reason, they’re so much stronger right now. The urge to hold them and kiss them and call them his own. Dammit. They’d better wake up soon or they’re going to be in a lot of trouble with him. If they don’t wake up… well maybe he can just daydream beside them until they awaken.