#dog bit compensation
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No matter the type of dog you own, big or small, pet owners have a legal duty to ensure their animal doesn’t attack, bite, or otherwise injure other people. Generally speaking, if a dog bites someone (depending on how it happened), they can make a public liability claim for personal injury compensation.
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so, this ones technically not a fix it because its still major character death but this is how i would tweak the canon story to give Izzy's death meaning and weight.
First of all, Izzy doesn't get shot by Ricky. The crew of the revenge may still be absolute rookies by Izzy's standards but even they know to take all the weapons off a hostage and unload any guns. Ricky still escapes and alerts the Navy, and our crew are running through the woods, down to the beach and Izzy is still falling back. For all his new prosthetic has helped his mobility immensely, its no good for running. Its clunky and dragging behind him and Ed and Frenchie and Jim and everyone keeps slowing down to make sure he's keeping up with them, but in doing that the navy are quickly catching up to all of them, they're being swarmed.
They break through the trees onto the beach, with more and more men coming up behind them. Izzy's struggling even more across the beach than he was in the woods, the hoof sinking in and sand shifting as he tries to run, and he stumbles. All the while Navy men continue to appear from all directions- and it hits him. That this is it. There's no way they will all make it out alive.
But he's Izzy Fucking Hands and even if he cant run anymore, he can still fight. He can fight for this crew, this family, these people who have given him so much, who have opened their arms to him when he was at his lowest, who have allowed him to feel free. He can still fight. He can buy them time.
So he turns, and draws his sword.
There was never any way he could win, of course. Even when he truly was the best swordfighter in all the Caribbean, fighting dozens of navy men at once would have been beyond him- but he can distract them, hold them off long enough the revenge sets sail. Its a glorious sight, one man against dozens, bodies falling around him as he holds them back. Its impressive to watch, and maybe, for a second, the crew allows themselves to hope. But then, he takes a cut to his sword arm, and another to his side.
And then he goes down.
But he goes down fighting.
Izzy Hands, who spent his whole life fighting dies that way too, fighting for the safety he spent his whole life searching for.
#i wanted to have jim hold a dinghy for him waiting to see if he could escape until the last second but i think they knew#that he would never try to escape if it brought even a chance of risk to them#its just. the season spends so long talking about who izzy is- hes revered in their community; he has a reputation; hes one of the best.#+ also showing the building of his relationship with the crew; learning how to be loved by them and love in return#he spends the start of the episode talking about how it's all for the crew for fucks sake why could we not see him die in defence of that?#using his proficiency at sword fighting to keep his family safe one last time#nyxtalks#ofmd#ofmd s2 spoilers#our flag means death#izzy hands#israel hands#fix it#resurrecting my finale week drafts now im a bit less bitter#i wanted to put something in about the crew protesting; because obviously they would; but it fucked with the flow of the post.#and again. i think they knew anyway#this was his hill to die on#also- some thoughts on why he could fight but not run: a) its fiction#b) hes actively been practicing his fighting with his hoof; hes been learning to compensate for it on a rocking boat#he'll have a lot more instinct on how to balance when his footing isnt stable; from his history and from sheer dogged determination#the way hes practiced hes learnt to use the leg to his advantage; or at least work around its hinderance.#he uses his hoof as his balance; propelling himself with his good leg; and i think itd be pretty simple to translate this through to sand-#standing still and letting them come to you; only moving in ways you feel comfortable. this has been his way of life for so long;#hes probably fought with injuries before; if nothing else; he can always figure out how to fight. hes had to
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the song remains the same au where Anna lives somehow, Michael didn’t finish the job or something, and it’s Dean being told he gets no choice, nothing but his destiny as Michael’s vessel, and he’s back where he was in Heaven and Hell with both Anna and Sam under threat, but god, this time he’s saving both of them, he has to. Pushed further towards saying yes not just because of his own failing faith that they can stop the Apocalypse, but because in that moment, he promises he will, if Michael will send Anna back with them. Reasons that she doesn’t belong there any more than him and Sam do, and maybe she’s been hurt so badly that she’s been knocked back down to practically human.
But the point is that Anna lives, and she tried to kill Dean’s parents, and failed, but at the same time, he gets it. He just tried to convince his own mom not to have him or Sam, and it all got erased. They are more like pawns than they ever have been, but they could still try to find something in each other. Some bit of lost tenderness. It’s the end of the world. Any night could be the last night.
#Anna post-Michael attack is blind btw. I feel like I should add that. her eyes did get literally burnt out her skull#they aren’t healed when they get back to the future either.#imagine if you will with me. Dean treating them. using all he knows about burns (and he knows a lot. probably got a couple bad burn scars#or did before hell anyway.) all the nasty bits of healing. Anna trusting him to do that.#but they do heal. Anna gets a cane. Dean finds a rhythm with her of helping compensate for her lost sense.#dean winchester was raised into a hunting dog. but he’s got to be a seeing eye dog now. he’s got to try.#something about dean giving heads up before he touches her. every time without fail. he gets it.#he gets associating most touch with violence. and he gets wanting to know when there’s kindness coming so that they can welcome it.#let Anna join tfw cowards.#more than just for Anna/dean reasons.#let her talk with Sam about being fallen. considered dirty and Wrong by other angels for making a choice.#let her be Cas’s sister. help him through his despair arc about being abandoned by god.#spn#dean winchester#anna milton#anna/dean#can you tell I just really love Anna god I really love anna
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my brother bringing his bookish friend over for dinner with me and my parents makes me feel like a jane austen character. hes talking about how his favorite part of before sunrise was when julie delpy said trying to understand each other was as close to god as we could get and looking me in the eyes while saying it
#if you have been emotionally captured by a beautiful brown eyed man with a slutty waist you are entitled to compensation right#MY DOG CUDDLED W HIM for reference he bit him in the face last time they met#my brother asked if he wanted to go or watch another episode of gemstones w me and my parents and he chose to stay#im so glad hes moving i am not strong enough
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OPEN LETTER TO FANFICTION WRITERS ON ACCESSIBILITY; PLEASE READ.
first of all, thank you for spending your time, seldom acknowledged and definitely deserving of a compensation you are not receiving, to entertain us. i’m speaking on behalf of more than just blind readers, but everyone. you’re sick as hell.
i’ve summoned you to provide some information you may not already know. i know a lot of you like fonts. especially those who cross post their work on wattpad. i admire any and all acts of aestheticism to a degree, and can understand the desire to use them. (blind folk, sorry y’all. momma’s making a point.) 𝔰𝔱𝔲𝔣𝔣 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰, it’s cute. 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 is a little cuter to me, if i had to choose. or maybe 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈?
now, sighted folk: if you’re on mobile, i implore you to participate in a little exercise for me. select this text and scroll through all the copy/paste/define/‘search the web’ options until you get to the speak portion. if you need to change a setting for your phone to do so, would you mind? i’d really appreciate it.
please make your phone read aloud part of my post, and be sure to include any bits with those super cute fonts. 𝕚’𝕝𝕝 𝕥𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕖𝕟𝕕 𝕠𝕗 𝕞𝕪 𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕒, 𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖. 𝕚 𝕙𝕠𝕡𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕔𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕝𝕪, 𝕚 𝕕𝕠𝕟’𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕖 𝕤𝕢𝕦𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕓𝕪 𝕥𝕪𝕡𝕠𝕤 𝕚 𝕔𝕒𝕟’𝕥 𝕤𝕖𝕖.
whether you participated and discovered it for yourself or you thought this was a crock of shit you’d rather not sniff, i’ll tell you! screen readers cannot dictate words using those fonts. at least, on a majority of devices. not mine, or any of my mutuals elsewhere.
you do not have to change your behavior on my behalf, but please be aware that fonts limit access to your work.
blind readers do exist, i exist, and i am bound by the same feelings of dogged longing that make other sad horny bitches read angsty, smutty, father-wounded nonsense.
thanks for making it this far. i really hope my sincerity is being conveyed, reading makes me so happy and i’m not the only person on this app who relies on accessibility settings more often than not. do with this information what you will, and have the day you deserve!
#matt murdock x reader#thomas shelby x reader#elijah mikaelson x reader#klaus mikaelson x reader#matt murdock smut#fanfic#bucky barnes x reader#din djarin x reader#x reader#gender neutral reader#reader insert#writers on tumblr#ao3 writer#writeblr#female writers#writerscommunity#blindness#visual impairment#accessibility#accessible art#tasm!peter parker x reader#smut#ethan landry#matt murdock#bucky barnes#peter parker#miguel o'hara#foggy nelson#frank castle#good omens
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Gif art credit to: @viridianv0id
Wally loves physical contact, I’d like to think it’s one of his love languages alongside quality time and words of affirmation, but mainly he adores hand holding; Sure it felt like holding a styrofoam packing peanut made of felt but it’s reassuring and grounding for the both of you.
Bonus points: he fiddles with your fingers when he’s in need of something to fidget.
Wally hates, hates, hates crowded areas.
This is based on what clown said about Wally going to Walmart and immediately wanting to leave.
(This maybe a bit projecting on my half) He gets overwhelmed easily despite how self assured he is. That’s just his mask and he truly hates being overwhelmed whilst in a crowded room.
Let’s say for example he goes to see a theatre but sees how loud and crowded the room is with families, and suddenly Wally doesn’t seem all that up to watching the pantomime anymore and would rather watch a prerecorded one at home where it’s less chaotic.
It’s too much for Wally. It drains him and leaves him wanting compensation cuddles or to be left on his own if he’s not feeling up to being touched after that.
(I work in catering for a local theatre and let me tell ya…when shows are on…it’s honestly too much. Too crowded, too loud for me and all I want to do is go home. Thankfully it’s few and far between cuz when they’re on, i’ve already done my shift.)
Painting, drawing, sketching is Wally’s therapeutic outlet. Something he does not only as a favoured pastime but more so as an healthy method to expressing his inner most feelings because after all, art is about expressing your innermost thoughts. So being the main star brought about a ton of weight for Wally to uphold an image of perfection; which is only made worse the longer he’s forced to act in opposite of what he’s actually like.
There’s a reason why his well known place beneath a tree and -probably- away from the rest of bubbly town of welcome.
Likes to frame any and all art done by you on the walls of his home, even if it’s shit, it’s already up on the wall because Wally loves your artistic approach to things…especially that weird lump that’s supposed to be a dog…you’ve made an attempt and that’s all Wally gives a shit about. (This goes out to my fellow people who aren’t as artistically gifted.)
Wally is your personal hype puppet. He’s so encouraging in whatever you do but please maybe don’t attempt in climbing up house and using him as a jumping off point and into the pool below…please do anything except that. He’s willing to indulge you in apple picking, water balloon fights -as long as his pompadour is covered by a shower cap or something- but not to the extent where you could injure yourself.
Wally probably doesn’t understand what injuries are but let me live and say that even if you do injure yourself, he’s got the cutest array of bandages, plasters and the like as he stands before you like;
Wally: do you want the hello kitty plaster or the moshi monsters ones? 🤨🧐
You: hello kitty plz 🥺🤕
#welcome home imagines#welcome home x you#welcome home x reader#welcome home#welcome home imagine#welcome home x y/n#welcome home arg#welcome home wally x reader#welcome home wally#wally darling x reader#wally darling x you#wally x reader#wally darling imagines#wally darling imagine#wally darling x y/n#wally darling
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Reasons to play Palia:
Cozy, gentle farming/village sim a bit like a combination of Harvest Moon and Animal Crossing, but online.
Most of the villagers are romanceable if you're into that. Either way they all have backstories that you learn by befriending them.
One time I went fishing and pulled up a charcuterie.
There's robots. One of them is romanceable because the fanbase demanded it in alpha.
You can't pet the dog but you can talk to him:
The fishing and bug catching systems are unique and fun.
When people find a rare/special resource like a Flow tree or palium ore, they'll call over zone chat to tell people where it is because everyone that hits a resource node will get the same reward no matter how many people are on it.
Crabs count as bugs so you can catch them!
Sifuu sent me a brick in the mail.
Cat people come from the moon, allegedly. Which moon? Probably the one that isn't on fire.
Concerned about too many people stripping the resources? The game is instanced and each instance only has a handful of players at a time. Even if they're all mining, or chopping trees, the nodes respawn fast enough to compensate. Plants and other things on the ground are not shared, so grab all those you want.
You can hunt for meat and leather, and there are a variety of animals that require different methods. Some of them teleport or clone themselves.
Speaking of hunting, you do so with a bow, and there's no blood or dead body. Bagged animals literally disappear and leave behind a bag which you loot.
You can climb and glide kind of like Breath of the Wild/Tears of the Kingdom.
The housing system is pretty robust, almost like WildStar. You start with a tent and then get a house which you can add rooms to. You can find, buy, and craft furnishing and sometimes villagers will gift them to you.
There's no HP and no penalty for falling, so feel free to yeet yourself from high places in order to explore!
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inspired by a post by @da-floof
Poppy had her hands together, the tips of them at her lips as she quietly looked you up and down along with the giant half of a dog on your back that was about 3 times your size.
“H-how exactly did you managed to carry him?” She asked.
“Adrenalin, a lot of it” You replied bending over a bit to try to compensate the weight on your back, Adrenalin was the only thing keeping you going at this point for the last day or so, it was hard to keep track of time once you got deeper into this hellish abyss.
But your were not just gonna leave the second person you met who didn’t immediately try to murder you to those tiny demonic stuff animals, you didn’t expect him to be a lot bigger then you but at the moment it wasn’t the time to think about that when the smaller crawling smiling critters had started coming towards you and attempted to crawl inside of the dog character.
Which explains the blood on your shoes,hands and grab pack hands.
“C-can someone get him please?” You ask as your knees started to shake a bit, the adrenaline run you been on since hour one starting to wear off, which wasn’t good with the situation your in.
Kissy came over and gently picked up the injured Dog being careful to not let the belt around him get loose, and just in time as you collapsed to your knees and ended up throwing up what food you had in your system.
You shook softly as you took in deep breaths, trying to ignore the pain that was basically everywhere in your body.
“…how about you come rest for a bit with us, I think you need it”
“Nah you think” you replied to the red head doll before loosing your meal again. God everything hurted.
You let out a noise as kissy wrapped a arm around you and you let yourself be carried over to the platform, your body acting a bit like a rag doll in the tall pink toy grip.
Once set down your curled up and let out a shaky breath as the platform rose back up, you were safe even it was just a little bit, for now.
“You ok Angle?”
You let out a snort as Dogday had managed to crawl next to you and was slightly hovering over you now, empty eyes looking over you nervously, “oh I’m just peachy” you said sarcastically your voice nearly above a whisper now.
“.. You didn’t have to save me, you should have run”
You rolled your eyes “and leave you hanging, literally?” You frown a bit seeing him flinch a bit, you sigh “it wasn’t a problem saving you” you spoke “we need all the help we can get and I wasn’t leaving someone to just die”
Dogday didn’t say anything and you hope you didn’t offend him, you weren’t exactly in the mood to be pleasant.
You shifted a bit when your head was lifted a bit and a paw a bit bigger then your head was placed under it acting like a pillow
“You should get some rest” Dogday spoke, you smiled a tiny bet, finding it funny thinking you could rest after everything that was going on, but you close your eyes to pleased the dog and promptly fell asleep, your body shutting down to try and get over the adrenaline rush and even though it was short about 20 minutes, you had a odd dream of vanilla
#poppy playtime#dogday#player#video games#fanfiction#dogday poppy playtime#poppy playtime chapter 3#kissy missy#poppy#adrenaline is the only thing keeping the player going plus not dieing
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Unbreakable (Tommy Shelby x reader)
warnings: dom/sub dynamics, cheating, sub!tommy, AFAB reader, degradation, riding, brat taming, extended metaphors, floor sex, misogyny
masterlist
Despite dating Arthur for some time now, you did not know his family very well. Of course, you knew them by reputation, who didn’t? But personally, Arthur’s brothers and aunt were mostly a mystery to you.
You expressed to Arthur how you’d like to meet them formally, and after a bit of grumbling from him about how he doesn’t want them to scare you off, he agrees. You set a date: Saturday night at the Garrison.
The rest of the week went quickly, and by Saturday evening, you’re sitting in front of your vanity getting ready. You apply your makeup, doing a bit more than usual, knowing Arthur’s family has a taste for nice things. You wear the delicate gold necklace Arthur had gifted you after only your second date. You loved it, of course, but that was when you realized just how intense the Shelby men are.
“Almost ready, love?” Arthur asks, coming into the room and standing behind you to straighten out his collar in the mirror.
“Yes, I just need my coat,” you say, making eye contact with him in the reflection.
Arthur leans down and presses a kiss to your cheek before leaving the room to get your coat. You put away your jewelry box and makeup, then stand to meet Arthur by the front door.
Ever the gentleman, Arthur holds out your coat and you slip your arms into the sleeves. He then wraps his arms around your waist to kiss you deeply. His chest feels solid against your back and you smile into the kiss, loving how good he is to you.
You break the kiss and look up into Arthur’s eyes. “Ready?”
He takes your hand and presses a kiss to the ring on your finger before opening the door.
“Lead the way, miss,” he smiles.
It isn’t a far walk from your flat to the Garrison. You’ve been there before, of course, but only with Arthur alone. He prefers to spend his time at your place, something about liking the peace. You know about the noise in his head, the constant battle behind his eyes, and you’re glad that you can be somewhat of a reprieve from it.
You walk across the wet cobbles of the street, hand in hand with Arthur. As masculine and manly as Arthur is, and with the amount that he exaggerates to compensate for his insecurities, it’s ironic that he is following behind you as you walk. You feel like you’re walking a dog with him trailing just slightly behind you as if he’s relying on you to direct him. Like he turns off his brain when he’s with you and lets you be in charge.
Soon you find yourself standing outside the pub, faces lit with the golden glow from inside. Arthur gives you a smile as he opens the door for you, and you step inside. The pub is loud, like every pub, but it’s not the commotion of a bar fight you’re hearing. It’s a joyous sound, like a celebration.
“Arthur!” you hear a man shout.
You look over and see your boyfriend embracing his brother John. When they part, John looks over at you.
“You must be the missus,” he jokes, making Arthur roll his eyes.
“Don’t put that idea in her head, John,” Arthur laughs.
“It’s already in my head, love. Now I just need a ring,” you tell Arthur.
The three of you laugh, and when it subsides, John ushers you over to the bar to get you both drinks.
A crystal glass of whiskey is shoved into Arthur’s hand, while a gin and tonic is handed to you. You thank John for the drinks and excuse yourself, holding onto Arthur’s arm and leading him away from the counter.
You walk around the room, searching for familiar faces. The men in the pub look like a rough crowd, but they’re all dressed nice enough and everyone is seemingly in high spirits, so you don’t worry.
Arthur finds his aunt and introduces you. Polly shakes your hand and you notice all of the rings that decorate her delicate hand.
“What beautiful jewelry,” you say.
Polly tips her chin up and smiles at you, obviously pleased with your compliment.
“Only the finest for us Shelby women,” she winks.
You smile back at her, then look over to Arthur who is watching with a smile of his own.
You figure Arthur must have talked about you at length to his family, because they all seem to know who you are, and from what you’ve heard about Aunt Polly, she doesn’t take kindly to strangers.
“Is Tommy ‘round?” Arthur asks Polly.
“He was. In a sour mood, he is. He wandered off a bit ago but I’m sure he’ll turn up,” she says before taking a sip of the drink in her hand.
“Right, well I’d like to show her off to the others, so if you don’t mind,” he puts his hand on your waist and brings you to the corner of the room where a group of men stand.
Arthur introduces you and they all shower you with compliments, but after that, you keep quiet and let the men talk about their business. After a while, you begin to grow bored with their conversation and you excuse yourself.
You take a lap of the pub, taking in your surroundings. Everyone seemed to fit in here; you were the only lone person in the room. It must be nice, you thought, to have such a strong sense of family. Even though most of these people aren’t related by blood, they’re loyal and trust each other, and what more do you need from a family?
You smile to yourself, imagining your future with Arthur. His infatuation with you makes you feel like a queen, and you want nothing more than to be with him. Of course, you know about the family business and the risks that entails, but you know Arthur will do whatever it takes to protect you. He’s like a guard dog, in a sense.
You look towards the bar at the drink choices, searching for something a bit more exciting than your usual, and while you are momentarily distracted, you don’t see the man you are about to bump into.
As soon as your shoulder hit his, he whipped his head around to glare at you. You look up at the man and your stomach drops when you realize who it is. Tommy Shelby is staring angrily back at you with a wet spot from his splashed drink on the front of his light gray vest.
“Oh my God, I am so sorry,” you apologize quickly.
You look around for a napkin or rag, but your attention is brought back to Tommy when he exhales sharply out of his nose and places his glass on the nearest table. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks down the bridge of his nose at you.
“You’re Arthur’s woman, right?” he asks instead of responding to your apology.
“That’s right,” you respond. You don’t like how he referred to you like you’re Arthur’s property, but you figure now is not the right time to correct him.
“Hm,” he hums, looking over your body judgingly. His icy eyes make you feel like he’s staring right through you, and it makes your skin crawl. “Are you a whore?”
The scoff leaves your mouth before you can stop it. “I beg your pardon?” you ask, incredulous.
“With the way you’re dressed, I would’ve thought you were advertising,” Tommy says. “I wouldn’t put it past Arthur.”
“No, I’m not.”
“How much do you charge? Mustn’t be very expensive. The good ones know how to mind their manners,” he continues like he hadn’t heard you deny his accusation.
“I’m not a fucking whore,” you say with a huff.
“Such crass language for a young lady. You���re a sailor, then?”
You furrow your brows in a mix of anger and confusion. You cannot understand why Tommy is being so rude to you, especially when you’ve never met before this moment. Arthur always said Tommy was the best, but that is certainly not the impression you’re getting.
“Forgive me if I’ve caught you at a bad time, Tommy, but I will not be talked to in such a way.”
Tommy leans back slightly and raises his eyebrow at you.
“I will talk to you any way I please.”
Tommy’s dismissive, almost bored tone digs under your skin. How dare he treat you like this? Especially when his brother loves you so much.
“I’ll be telling Arthur about this,” you tell him, trying to keep the flare of anger in your chest at bay.
“And I’ll be sure to tell Arthur to keep you on a tighter leash.”
You make a noise that’s a mix between a scoff and a laugh. “If either of us are on a leash, it’s him.”
Tommy looks a little surprised at your response but says nothing. He watches as you turn and make your way back to Arthur. You pull him away from the conversation and he follows blindly. Your anger is evident in your walk and your tight grip on Arthur’s bicep.
You drag him towards the snug, and Arthur scrambles in front of you to open the door to the room. There, you explain your interaction with Arthur’s miserable younger brother. Arthur assures you that he will talk to Tommy and convince him to give you another chance, and maybe even an apology.
“Tommy doesn’t like strong women. Feels intimidated or something,” Arthur explains to you, arm around your shoulder as you sit on the cushioned bench.
“Hard to believe you two are related,” you tease, rubbing your hand up Arthur’s thigh. Whatever smart response that was on his tongue died as you palm over his crotch. Arthur’s eyes flick between your face and your hand, waiting patiently for you to make your next move. “You’re going to take me home and apologize on your brother’s behalf.”
A grin splits Arthur’s face and he stands up, grabbing your hand and tugging you to your feet. You escape out of the front doors of the pub without saying goodbye, but neither of you cares. You’re not in a partying mood after Tommy insulted you, and Arthur’s only desire in the world is to make you happy.
-
Unfortunately, the clock on your relationship ran out before you were able to reconcile with Tommy, to no fault of your own. You decided to surprise Arthur at his house with a basket of his favorite baked goods when you caught him in bed with another woman.
You didn’t cry, didn’t yell, didn’t curse at him and damn him to hell. You turned on your heel and left as quickly as you came, never looking back.
Once you got back to your flat, you allowed yourself to process your emotions. Arthur had used you, that much was obvious. You made him feel better, feel good about himself, and he wanted to keep you around. He acted like he loved you; maybe he truly did but his head is just that fucked up. Either way, he betrayed your trust, and you were heartbroken.
Two weeks passed and you almost forgot about the lost relationship. You no longer dwelled on it, overanalyzing every action that could have made Arthur do what he did. You accepted that it was his mistake, his loss and that you’ll be just fine.
You continued working, grateful for your inherited flat because your meager income as a typist did not stretch very far. Life was back to normal, and you could almost forget about the whirlwind months spent with Arthur that left you with a broken heart. You almost did forget, until a reminder was standing on your doorstep late at night.
You had just finished your supper for one and were washing the dishes when you heard a knock at your door. You weren’t expecting a visitor, especially not at this hour. You open the door to reveal the last man you ever expected to see: Tommy Shelby. He doesn’t greet you, he just stands in your doorway with his hands deep in his pockets, looking at you expectantly.
“What are you doing here?” you ask, making a point to block the entrance of your home so he couldn’t barge in.
“I want to apologize,” Tommy said with a sigh, like this is a great burden to him.
You furrow your brows and stare back at him. “If you’re apologizing for your treatment of me at the party, I'm afraid you’re too late,” you say, not attempting to keep the bitterness from your voice.
“I want to apologize for what Arthur did,” he corrects.
“Why?” you ask.
“Let me inside and I’ll explain.”
You roll your eyes at his sense of entitlement to your time but step aside to allow him in. He walks into your flat and looks around, taking in the room. It’s nothing much; a small couple of rooms decorated eclectically with all of your favorite things. Tommy makes a bit of a face, but you’re not surprised. You bet his home is decorated with knives and guns and severed body parts from his enemies.
Tommy turns around to look at you. “You’re not going to offer me a drink?”
“You came here to apologize, not for a drink,” you counter.
“Fair enough.”
You lead him over to the sitting area. He sits in the plush leather chair while you sit in the center of the sofa.
“On with this apology,” you say.
“Right,” Tommy clears his throat. “I’m sorry for what Arthur did. You seemed like you were good to him, but Arthur isn’t meant for that kind of life.”
“What kind of life?”
“Domesticated.” Tommy leans back in his chair and rests his ankle on his knee. “See, Arthur is a fucking animal. He doesn’t think like a man, he acts on instinct.”
You hum and nod your head in faux agreement. “I already knew that. I spent a month house-training him, and I thought I did a fine job.”
“An animal like him can’t be broken.”
“I see. But wouldn’t that make you an animal as well? Seeing as you’re from the same litter and all,” you reply with a slight smirk.
“The distinction between man and beast comes down to intelligence. I am no animal.”
“I disagree. Man is just an animal that walks upright and can speak. If anything, I’d prefer an animal that acts on its base desires than a man who succumbs to vices and needless violence.”
It’s a direct jab, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by Tommy. He raises his eyebrow at you and watches you intently.
“I am not an animal,” Tommy says again. His insistence makes you want to doubt him even more.
“Maybe not, but men are even easier to break.” Tommy is silent after that. His blue eyes stare into you like they did when you first met, but now instead of anger burning behind them, you sense something different. “A few cigarettes, some booze, and some cunt would be enough for you, right?”
Tommy nods his head once. “Perceptive.”
“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To be broken?”
“Arthur talks when he’s drunk. Can you blame me for being curious?”
A flutter of excitement appears in your chest against your wishes. Luckily, this isn’t your first time. You’re able to school your expression into something of disinterest, mirroring his.
“You can be curious all you want. I don’t understand why you think anything would come from your visit.”
For the first time tonight, Tommy lets his stoic expression crack into a smirk. “Because you’re heartbroken and lonely and angry enough at Arthur that you want to get back at him.”
You swallow thickly. He’s not wrong, but you’d rather die right here on the couch than admit that.
“Quite presumptuous, Tommy. What if I promised myself to God, gone and became a nun in the past two weeks?”
“Nuns don’t wear dresses cut like that,” he smirks.
“What do you want?” you ask instead of responding to his jibe.
“I think that much is obvious,” he says before looking over your body.
“That’s not how this works. If we do this, you have to tell me what you want, or you’re not going to get it.”
“I see. So I have to humiliate myself and explain to you all the perverted things I want you to do to me just for the chance of you agreeing?”
“Yes,” you smirk.
He nods and reaches into his coat for his cigarette case and matchbook. A comfort, you think.
“Shall we start?” he asks, and when you nod, he continues. “I want you to take off your dress. Go slow and put on a show for me. Then I want you to get on your knees and suck my cock and get it nice and wet so I can fuck you.”
You listen, nodding as he talks. “Very good telling me what you want, but I’m afraid I don’t do things like that.” Tommy looks taken aback. “I don’t put on shows, I don’t get on my knees, and I certainly don’t let you fuck me.”
“Very well. Why don’t you tell me what it is you do then, eh?” Tommy says, a smirk still on his lips. God, you can’t wait for that expression to fall.
“If you insist,” you start. “I’ll put you on your knees, I’ll let you get me wet so I can fuck you. I’ll make you put on a show for me, nice and slow. Do you get the picture, Tommy?”
“I think I do,” he says, blowing smoke out of his nose and mouth.
“Are you interested?”
“I am.” You chuckle to yourself. “Does that surprise you?”
“Oh, not at all,” you smile. “Men like you are typically the ones who enjoy this most.”
“Men like me?”
“The ones who insist they aren’t animals, yet they beg to be treated like one. Wealthy, powerful, important men who carry so much stress that they just want to let it all go. Poor boys just need to let someone else do the thinking while they just feel.” Tommy’s lips part as he watches you. The words seemingly have an effect on him if the fidgeting of his legs is anything to go by. “Do you want that, Tommy? Do you want to let go?”
Tommy doesn’t answer you at first. He stubs his cigarette out in the ashtray on the table next to the chair and clasps his hands over his chest.
“I’d like to give it a try.”
You smile at him and lean back against the couch cushion. For a moment, it’s a stare-off. Tommy is waiting for you to make a move, while you’re doing the same to him. You raise your eyebrows and pat the couch cushion next to you. Surprisingly, Tommy gets up from the chair and moves to sit beside you.
“There we go,” you grin. “Now why don’t we start by taking off your jacket?”
Tommy nods and tugs his arms out of the sleeves, not breaking your gaze the whole time. He drapes the jacket over the back of the couch and now he’s left in his white shirt, vest, and gun holster. You look questioning at the gun strapped to his side.
“Planning to kill me or giving me something to use against you?” you ask.
“You know how to use it?” he asks instead of answering.
“It can’t be that hard. Any animal can manage it,” you whisper, leaning closer to him. His eyes narrow as he looks at you, but otherwise he has no reaction. “You know, your brother told me that you don’t fancy women like me. Strong women, ones who don’t roll over for you. That’s why you were so rude to me at the party, right? Because I spilled your drink and I didn’t immediately drop to my knees to suck your cock.”
“I like nice girls,” he says, licking his lips.
“You like nice girls to hang off your arm and to parade around to one-up your associates. But I think you do fancy women like me. You’re intimidated, sure, but I think you like that. Does it get you hot when a lady bosses you around, Tommy?”
He swallows audibly, but you don’t let it show that you heard. You just look at him, waiting for an answer. Never one to admit his weaknesses, he stays silent. You place your hand on his thigh, just above his knee, fingers digging into his muscle slightly. He looks down at your hand, watching, waiting for you to put it where he wants it. Unfortunately for him, you stay still.
“Answer me,” you say.
“Yes,” he says, frustration evident in his voice.
“Yes, what?” you ask, just to make him suffer.
“Yes, it gets me hot.”
Tommy’s jaw is clenched tight, clearly unhappy he isn’t getting his way. Finally relenting, you slide your hand up his leg and press the heel of it into his crotch. His breath hitches and you just barely contain your laughter.
You remove your hand just as quickly as you put it there. Tommy makes a slight whine but quiets up when you swing your leg over his thighs and straddle his lap. Your skirt bunches at your sides, resting on his legs and hiding you from his view. He looks up at you, eyes with only a ring of blue, obstructed by his lust-blown pupils. You grab his shoulders, fingers digging into the tense muscles, prodding the painful knots.
Your eyes trace his plush lips and you wonder what it’d be like to kiss them. Would he submit and let you explore him, or would he try to resist and dominate the kiss, just so he could have some semblance of power? As intrigued as you are to find out, you don’t want to give Tommy the satisfaction of making the first move.
Hesitantly, Tommy puts his hands on your hips, and when you don’t bat them away, he grips tighter and begins to rock you back and forth on his lap. His breath hitches and his eyes flutter shut when your core rubs over the bulge in his slacks. You look down at him, unimpressed, but he cannot see your expression. You let him continue a bit longer, building up the pleasure so it’s more satisfying when you rip it away.
You thread your fingers through the hair and yank, pulling his head back and eliciting a pathetic moan from his lips. His eyes fly open to glare at you, but you don’t even put on the guise of an apologetic expression.
“Y’know, Tommy,” you start, not letting up on your grip on his hair. “Your bother’s like a dog, but you’re a fucking horse. A fucking stubborn one at that. You don’t need a soft hand and scratches behind your ear, you need a whip and some goddamn discipline.” Tommy tries to shake your hand out of his hair, but his attempt is futile. “You’re just a horse that needs to be broken.”
“And you suppose you’re able to do that?” he asks, still far too cocky for the position he finds himself in.
“Yes,” you answer plainly, and he quirks an eyebrow at your confidence.
You reach down between your legs and firmly grab the bulge in his pants. Your grip is tight, just on the right side of painful. Tommy whines and curls in on himself as much as he can, which isn’t very much due to you being on his lap.
“Has getting talked down to like an animal really done it for you?” you ask teasingly.
You know he won’t answer, but the glare he gives you is enough. You let up on your hold and begin to drag your fingernails over his hard cock, alternating between too much pressure and not enough, just to make his head spin.
“Take your cock out,” you order, but he doesn’t immediately react. “What are you waiting for?”
“You’re so crass. You could at least ask me nicely,” he responds, a mischievous smirk on his lips.
“Do you ask your horses to pull your carts full of guns and drugs?” you ask. “No, you give an order. You are just a stubborn workhorse, Tommy. I owe you no more kindness than the shit on the cobble.”
“Why would Arthur ever let you go,” Tommy says sarcastically as he moves to undo his trousers. You choose not to respond to his jibe and instead watch him take himself out of his slacks.
His cock is nothing spectacular. It’s a cock, a toy for you to use to get yourself off with, and something to lead him around by. And by the looks of the leaking pink tip, it doesn’t seem like it will be too difficult to control him.
Tommy wraps a hand around himself and begins to stroke it. He’s very clearly putting on a show for you, and it makes you want to roll your eyes. All men think they’re God’s gift to the Earth when they have their cocks out.
“I’m not here to watch you wank,” you say.
“What are you here for, then?”
You reach down and grab his wrist, stopping his movement. “Do not act like I asked you here. You came to my doorstep in the middle of the night so I could fuck you. Stop pretending like you don’t want me to show you the animal you truly are.”
Tommy bites his lip to hide what almost looks like a smile. “Then show me.”
You feel the two of you have finally reached an understanding of how the rest of the night was going to go. Tommy lets go of his cock and you replace his hand with yours. You stroke him slowly, but your grip is tight. The sensation is torturing him, the evidence is written all over his face. His lips are parted and his eyebrows are pinched with pleasure.
You wonder how much of this slow, unsatisfying attention he can take before he begs for more. His hands twitch at his sides, clearly resisting the urge to take over and fuck his hand to completion. The other hand not around his leaking cock trails up his chest, feeling the firm muscle underneath his shirt. You undo a few buttons to get a glimpse of the creamy skin underneath the crisp shirt.
Tommy usually looks so put together but like this, with his pants undone, cock out, and shirt mussed, he looks like a wet dream. Your free hand continues to travel up and stops at the base of his throat. You push just slightly, not enough to cut off any kind of air or blood flow, but enough to get his attention. He looks up at you and nods once, a simple gesture but sufficient. You tighten your hold on his throat and he keens, hips thrusting up into your hand, searching for more friction. You wouldn’t have thought choking would be something that did it for Tommy Shelby, but he’s shown himself full of surprises so far.
“Fuck me,” Tommy whines. You chuckle to yourself at his desperate tone.
“What was that?”
“Please fuck me,” he pants.
“Well, what’s the point in having a horse if you don’t ride it, eh?”
You climb off of his lap and stand in front of him. You unbutton the waist of your skirt and let it fall to the ground, leaving you in only your top and panties. Tommy’s eyes drink in the sight of you hungrily, taking in every inch of your bare legs.
“Would you do me a favor, dear?” you ask him sweetly. He nods and moves forward so he’s sitting on the edge of the couch. “Could you take my knickers off for me?”
You step closer and Tommy reaches out to grab ahold of the elastic waistband. He looks up at you once more before pulling them down and letting them fall around your ankles. He’s now at eye level with your pussy and staring intently.
“You’re drooling, Tom,” you chuckle, which seems to snap him out of his trance. “Do you want a taste?” Tommy seems to have trouble with that question. He does want a taste, but if he waits any longer to get his dick inside you, he might go insane. “What’ll it be?”
“I want to fuck you,” he says, grabbing your hips and looking up at you pleadingly.
Beneath you like this, he looks as if he was praying to you. Like you’re his God, his master, and you suppose in this moment, his fate does lie in your hands.
“Greedy boy,” you say, grabbing his hair again. “After I stroked your fucking cock and let you rut against me like an animal, you can’t even return the favor?”
“Fine, fine, let me lick your cunt then,” he says, voice desperate.
“No,” you huff, putting on a show. “If you need to get your cock wet so badly that you can’t think about anything else…” You snap your fingers and point at the floor by your feet. “Lay down.”
Tommy obeys, pointedly ignoring how the order makes him feel like a dog and how hot he finds it. He lays down on his back and looks up at you, waiting for you to join him on the ground. You step over him, a foot on either side of his hips, and lower yourself so you’re hovering above his thighs.
You grasp his cock and point the tip at your entrance, rubbing it through your wet folds. Tommy’s breath hitches at the contact, but he doesn’t have time to recover before you’re sinking down on him. You go slow, easing yourself into it as his thick cock stretches you, making room for him inside.
Tommy’s hands grip your waist, but he doesn’t push you further down or try to direct you anywhere. Good boy, you think. When you bottom out, you let out a sigh of relief. You allow yourself to wait there, sitting on his thighs with his cock inside you as you relax your muscles. Yes, you’re doing it to prep yourself to ride him, but the look on his face as he tries to restrain himself from fucking into you is priceless.
“Talk to me, Tommy.”
“Fucking move,” he grits out between his teeth.
“Is that how you talk to me?”
“I’ve got my cock in you, eh? I don’t think I have to do much more charming.”
You roll your eyes, then your hips. It was a quick motion, over as soon as it began, and it only served to frustrate Tommy more.
“I want you to tell me how it feels, not give me orders,” you say.
“It’s not fucking enough.”
“So why don’t you ask for more?”
You know you’re being frustrating, and you can tell Tommy is nearing the end of his rope. His fingers dig into your skin a little more, and you wonder if he’s going to leave bruises behind.
“Please ride me before I go fuckin’ insane,” he huffs.
You smile sweetly and start to rock your hips, quickly finding a rhythm that begins to light up your nerve endings. Tommy groans in pleasure, the deep sound spurring you on to give him a little bit more.
“So fucking tight,” he moans. “Wanna see your tits.”
You look down at him and smirk. “So crass, Tommy. You could at least ask me nicely.”
He narrows his eyes and reaches up to grab the low neckline of your blouse. He pulls it down, making your breasts spill out. You gasp and bat his hands away, but make no effort to cover yourself up.
“You don’t like nice,” he says. “You want someone just as terrible as you are.” You lean down and brace yourself on his chest to move your hips faster. There is no doubt that you are fucking him, and he can do little more than touch you.
“And you are as terrible as they come, Thomas.”
Tommy grins, albeit a lazy, fucked out grin. He palms at your tits as you bounce on his cock, not caring about being nice or gentle with him. He’s an animal, he wants it rough and he is more than capable of taking it.
Your fingers curl into his shirt and you pull at it like the reins of a horse. You both move with each thrust, finding a rhythm and working together to fuck each other to completion.
“Good fucking cunt for a whore,” Tommy says between panting breaths.
You glare down at him. You would have thought by this point he’d be too fucked out to back talk, but this horse is hard to tame. You release your hold on his shirt with one hand and clamp it down over his mouth. Tommy’s lip hits his teeth and he tastes blood, but a bit of violence has always done it for him.
“I am not a fucking whore. You’re the one who begged me to fuck you,” you huff. You know he’s baiting you, but there’s something about his smug, condescending tone that’s ever-present that irritates you. “You’re the fucking whore, Tommy. Needy, desperate, pathetic. I bet you’re close, eh?”
Tommy takes your hand off his mouth and grins lazily up at you. “Yeah, I am.”
“You have to have permission for that.”
“Then give it to me.”
“Beg for it.”
You know this game can’t go on forever. You won’t give in and he’ll refuse to beg, but eventually one of you will come. Never let it be said that Tommy Shelby isn’t full of surprises.
Tommy drops his chin and makes his eyes wide, trying to appear as innocent as possible. “Please let me come, madam. I promise I’ll return the favor. I need you.” He is playing it up, playing the role you want him to just to get his way, but it works.
“Fuck, come for me,” you gasp as you bounce faster.
“Where-?” his question is cut off with a whine when you stand up, leaving his cock wet and exposed in the cold air. Immediately, his hand is around it and he’s jerking himself off to keep up the pleasure, but this time you don’t stop him. You kneel between his spread legs and wrap your hand around his.
“Make a mess of yourself, Tommy,” you order.
Before he could argue, hot come spurts out of his cock and lands on your hand, shirt, and trousers. You watch as his pants turn dark and his shirt becomes transparent with awe, reveling in the sight of Tommy Shelby turning into a wreck before you.
You wipe your hand off on his pants and move it between your own legs to rub yourself to completion. His fucked-out expression, whimpers of pleasure, and occasional twitches of the aftershocks of his orgasm combined with the friction on your cunt send you over the edge. Your pussy flutters and your body sags with the relief of the loss of tension.
Panting, you lay on the floor next to Tommy. You both stay there, not talking, not touching, not moving for a good while. You’re content like that, having gotten some Shelby-related frustration out of your system. You feel better than you have since Arthur cheated, and everything is good again. That is until the man beside you opens his mouth again.
“How much do I owe you for the fuck?” he asks.
You don’t bother to pick your head up. You simply smack his chest, making a hollow thud and a laugh come from the man.
“I should be paying you,” you respond.
“Was it really that good?” he teases again.
“You’re insufferable, Tommy.”
Tommy rolls onto his side to look at you, but you do not mirror his actions.
“And you’re a horrible wench. A wicked, evil woman who takes pleasure in seeing others suffer.” There’s no heat behind his words, and you feel a smile forming on your face.
“And you’re a stubborn fucking ass that kicks his owner.”
Tommy sits up and reaches for his jacket, taking the pack of cigarettes and matchbook out of the pocket. He puts one of them in his mouth, tucked in the corner.
“I’d say we’re a good match, eh?” he says before striking the match and lighting the end of the cigarette.
You scoff. “I’d rather die than be involved with another Shelby.”
Tommy turns to you with a raised eyebrow. “I’d say we’re already involved, but if it’s so important to you,” Tommy pauses for a moment. “I’ll take your name.”
You blink at him. “What the fuck are you on about?”
“You know, since you’re so adamant about being in charge. I’ll take your surname, then I’d really be yours.” That smirk and teasing tone that drives you insane is back.
“Get the fuck out of my house, Tom.”
Tommy stands up and grabs his jacket and hat, then puts them both on without breaking eye contact with you.
“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he says as he turns around, walking towards the door.
“No, you won’t!”
Tommy shoots you a wink over his shoulder before slipping out the door and back into the night where he came from. You know that tomorrow night he will show up on your doorstep, and you know that you’ll invite him in. Damn, those Shelby men.
#tommy shelby#tommy shelby x reader#peaky blinders#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders fanfiction#peaky blinders x reader#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby#cillian murphy#cillian murphy x reader#peaky blinders smut
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so more on that role reversal au...
Shadow (created as a Weapon Against Humanity) who was eventually raised, and exploited, by G.U.N to become Humanity's Ultimate weapon and Sonic, found by Robotnik
some more expanded thoughts below ^_^
SHADOW - G.U.N AGENT
Shadow was initially created with the intention of being a Weapon Against Humanity. after a life-altering incident, G.U.N. takes Shadow into their custody, raising him to become one of their top agents, exploiting him.
he's constantly under government surveillance... inhibitor rings (developed by G.U.N.) are clamped onto him like a shock collar so he is unable to tap into his full power. (Shadow has neither tested nor does he know the extent of his strength.. he has never tried removing them. G.U.N. is the only one who can remove them.)
the hypocritical method in wanting their weapon (cough trained dog) to exercise and develop restraint on his own terms, and yet forcefully acclimating him.
Shadow’s aware of his past. Definitely struggles with Existential dread about why he’s on Earth and what he was made for. he wants to (and feels like he should) do good, but if he was initially made with destructive intent… is he compensating this way? is this what he really wants? no.. he shouldn't think like that.. Maria would want him to be good..
If not to make the world the better a place, if they still treat his kind as inferior and sometimes, even a threat to the whole human race, does humanity and this planet still deserve its rite for redemption? What is humanity? Is that something he’s capable of, as a weapon of mass destruction?
what is he trying to prove here? His docility? His ability to be obedient and be, by human standards, good? what does that mean in a world that may never accept them, and much less him- a synthetic and all-unnatural organism forged from humanity’s worst and an alien race only capable of Evil and wrongdoing. a being so perfectly suited for any and all forms of persecution. Humankind’s scapegoat. He thinks about Maria.
Maria remains a guiding light. Back then, she would sneak Shadow out to gaze upon the Earth, her former home. She misses it, the lush greenery, the sun, the people. she hopes that Shadow will get to experience what it’s like.
au shadow is emo edgy in a sad wet adult 40yo cat leon kennedy kind of way. au sonic is emo edgy like a 14yo that found out you could buy a tattoo gun on amazon without a license. I know nothing about resident evil
when he's not on a mission, he's usually in his "room" (extremely generous word for containment chamber/training facility.) he's like a hamster in a cage with toys to play with . (treadmills. race tracks. dummy robots. Ak-47s.) He's allowed to freely roam HQ from hours 6am-10pm, and if not, he is usually escorted by a guard, unless its Rouge sneaking him out. But beyond that, it's not like the ultimate lifeform needs that much sleep, and it'd be bad to have their ultimate weapon roaming the halls without supervision. but let's say there's the occasional nocturnal scavenger providing him a bit of nightly mischief that even the most complicated most difficult to navigate ventilation system cannot keep a natural-born burrower out..... (haha)
SONIC - ACCOMPLICE
Robotnik’s “accomplice” (adoptive son?)
Sonic goes along with Robotnik’s schemes but has his own ulterior motives .. after all, working under someone is still infringing on his sense of freedom, independence, and pride.
He only rlly helps out Robotnik out if it helps him… robotnik makes some new tech that tickles his , esp if smth that happens to enhance his existing abilities. sure he’s more than capable of doing things on his own but what’s better than to play with his new toys with his already existing toys (GUN. shadow.)
and if he manages to break them in a day then he’s found an issue that robotnik needs to troubleshoot immediately. eggman should really be Thanking him!
his only known goal atm is to find things that stave off his boredom. from what Shadow's gathered at least. but maybe there's more...
has a very bad No Good Fixation on shadow's inhibitor rings for whatever reason. wonder that could mean.
Still fucking around with roles and nothing's rlly set in stone. Im just kind of giggling kicking rocks and throwing pebbles in the water to see what lands ^q^
Rouge is still there! A contractor for G.U.N. A Recovering/reformed Jewel thief who joins the task force (maybe?)
the gang is also there! still brainstorming roles though. emrmmm
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Do older snakes tend to go blind the same way older dogs do? If a snake was blind how could you tell?
Sometimes! Cataracts are a very, very common problem in senior snakes. They're pretty easy to spot because part of the eye will look cloudy, but not the whole eye like you'd see during a shed.
Aside from cataracts, vision problems can be caused by genetic eye issues, tumors, you name it. A blind snake, especially one who had vision in the past, might seem a bit jumpier and clumsier than other snakes, but snakes are generally excellent at compensating for vision problems.
I've worked with a lot of snakes with cataracts and other vision problems, and fortunately snakes aren't very visual animals as a rule and visual problems are easy to accomodate for. You'll notice your snake tongue-flicking more as they compensate by relying on their sense of smell even more. I usually keep the floor plan of the enclosure the same so the snake can make a mental map of their surroundings. It's rarely anything that seriously bothers a snake!
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Workday Blues
2024 Masterlist
i wrote this weeks ago after a co-worker had me seeing red lol
"I just don't get it, H," you sighed, leaning back against the leather seat of your car as you waited for the light to change. Your voice felt strained, and you knew you sounded whiny, but you couldn't help it. After a long shift at work, you told yourself you reserved the right to complain. "Why can't people just, I don't know, do the job they showed up to do and get paid for?"
"I'm sorry, bub," Harry said, his voice tinny as it filled up your car. "Did you talk to your manager?"
You scoffed. "There's no point, but I swear I wanted to tell them I didn't want to work that shift anymore. I'm just so sick of—of—doing more than what's required of me and not being compensated for it."
Harry remained quiet over the phone. At this point in your relationship, he knew when you wanted his advice and when you just needed to vent about your job. The latter happened more and more as of late. Sometimes you felt bad for being so negative, but after nine hours of being overly positive as a restaurant server, you didn't have much positivity left in you.
"Need me to leave you a review again?" Harry finally asked.
Despite your exhaustion, you smiled. "What's that, now? The third one this month?"
"Fourth. Three and a half. I had Mitch leave one after the, what did you call it, 'influencer incident?'" he asked, referring to an afternoon where someone tried to pay for their meal by posting a video online.
"Hm. I'll have to bring him a slice of pie the next time I visit the studio."
"Hey, what about me? Where's my pie?"
Grin widening a bit, you said, "I'll give you something better."
"And...how far from home are you now?"
"Pulling in right now. I'll see you inside."
You pulled into the home you shared with Harry, resting your forehead against the steering wheel once the car was in park. Your feet hurt, you smelled like the food your restaurant served, and you desperately needed to take your makeup off. Sometimes you wondered why you were still putting yourself through all of this, and Harry definitely did too. For years now, Harry promised to take care of you, to take care of your student debt so you could focus on your career and not be so tired and unhappy. He didn't say it often because it typically led to an argument about independence and needing to be able to take care of yourself, but you knew how he felt, and after days like today, the idea of letting someone else take care of you financially seemed more appealing than it normally did.
Sighing, you slid out of the car, gathering your lunch bag and purse before shuffling into the house on slippered feet. "H?" you called, eyes lighting up when you heard the sound of nails scraping against wood floors. A shadow of jet black fur whipped around the corner and bounded toward the entrance hall to you, tongue out and tail wagging.
"Hi, pookie! How's my sweet boy?" you cooed. Hades nudged your leg with his nose, and you bent down to run your hands over his soft puppy fur until he eventually fell onto his back in need of belly rubs.
"You talking to me?" Harry's voice sounded like it came from the kitchen, which you followed once you straightened up and your dog was finished licking your face.
"You're gonna eat your words when you get your cute butt over here."
"I live with two boys, and only one of them greets me excitedly without fail. You do the math," you joked.
You smiled and shook your head at the comment. Harry knew your feelings about your "unflattering" work uniform, so he often went out of his way to compliment you whenever you were in it.
When you finally made it to where Harry was standing at the kitchen counter, tears nearly welled up in the corners of your eyes. "Is that—"
"Wild Cherry Pepsi," he said, his grin wide and knowing as he read your expression. "With pebbled ice. And dinner, but I know you care more about the drink with that sugar addiction of yours."
"You know me so well," you said, your voice rising in pitch as your head bowed.
"Aw, come here, bub." You shuffled over the last few steps to Harry, folding right into his welcoming embrace.
His body was firm and comforting against yours, his t-shirt soft beneath your cheek. Breathing in deep, you wrapped your arms around Harry's torso, letting every frustration you felt at work fall away as he held you.
"Thank you," you mumbled, tilting your head up after a minute or two had passed.
Harry smoothed his hand over your hair and down your back, pulling at the hair tie that held your braid in place all day. "For what?"
You shrugged, eyes closed as he began to pull the strands of your braid apart. "I don't know. For being you, for not suggesting I should quit when I know you want to."
"Another time," Harry promised. Pulling out a chair at the kitchen table, he gestured for you to sit down. You practically fell into the chair, feeling like you could finally relax as you took the plastic to-go cup into your hands and took a sip. Your eyes closed, feeling as though you could fall asleep right then even though you knew you should probably eat. As if he could tell you were on the brink of sleeping, Harry asked, "Do you want to keep talking about work or are you ready to forget?"
Harry wasn't being rude, nor was he belittling your frustration. You'd done this song and dance a time or two, but some days required you to vent more than others.
Around the straw, you said, "Can I?"
He sat beside you, taking Hades in his lap, who was happy to be held even though he was getting way too big for it. Usually, you chided Harry for holding Hades like that, but you were too tired, and honestly, it was kind of cute.
You talked while you ate, and Harry listened, letting you get everything you needed off your chest. He was quiet but attentive, apologizing for things out of his control and cursing your co-workers when you did. None of it would really improve the situation at work, but you always appreciated Harry's willingness to listen when you needed him to, and share in your anger and frustration when necessary.
Standing from the table, you took your plate and put everything in the dishwasher. Grabbing your plastic cup in one hand and Harry's hand in the other, you said, "I think I'm all done."
Harry kissed your temple before pulling you up the stairs toward your bedroom. Hades snaked between you and him to run ahead, waiting on the landing impatiently. "Good, because the Real Housewives of Salt Lake City won't wait for just anyone."
"Not a reading night, huh?" you asked, resting your head on his shoulder. Harry looked down and raised his brows in an expression that expressed he was not, in fact, going to be cracking open his book tonight. Kissing his cheek, you said, "Go ahead and start the next episode, baby. I'm gonna hop in the shower and wash my day off."
Harry, who'd been on his way to do just that, paused and frowned. "Well now I want to watch something else."
Grinning, you held out your hand while you continued to sip your drink. "Come on."
Hades, who had already claimed his spot at the edge of your bed, tilted his head to one side, clearly confused as to why his parents were walking away instead of joining him. "We'll be quick," you promised, even though you knew your dog didn't understand. But the message was for Harry too.
When you were finally in bed, watching Harry's show through eyes that were struggling to stay open, you looked up from where you resting against his shoulder. Harry's glasses were perched on his nose, his eyes focused on the television in front of him as he ran his hand idly over Hades' fur, who had conveniently found his way onto your lap once you settled into bed for the night.
"If you insist," Harry said on an exhale, turning the shower on and setting it to a temperature he knew you both liked.
"Be honest," you said suddenly. "I'd be happier if I quit, right?"
Harry was quiet, but you knew he'd heard you. He was just weighing his words. "Is another job lined up in this alternate universe?" he finally asked.
"I don't know, maybe. They argue quite a bit, though. Don't think you want to be part of all that drama," he replied, taking the remote and pausing his show. He looked down at you, eyes soft but perhaps a little concerned. You'd never considered his offer of letting him provide for you this seriously before. "Honestly? I think you'd get bored, bub."
You shrugged. "I don't know. You've said you'd always take care of me. What if I just...let you? I could be one of them," you mused, nodding your head at the women on your TV.
A nod and a noncommittal hum was your only response for a few seconds until you'd gathered your thoughts. "I'm just so...tired. I'm tired of everything I do not being appreciated. I'm tired of not being supported. I love my regulars and I like most of my co-workers, and part of me feels a sense of loyalty to this place despite, well, everything."
"We'll do some job hunting tomorrow," Harry said. "I'll help you update your resume, you'll send some feelers out, and we'll go from there. How does that sound?"
"I could get a remote job," you mused. "I'd get to be home more. I could travel more with you."
Harry kissed the top of your head. "As much as I would love that, I think your strengths lie in the connections you make with people. You certainly charmed the pants off me."
"Literally or metaphorically?"
"Both."
You grinned, cheeks reddening as you recalled the night you first met Harry.
*.*
"Holy shit you're Harry Styles."
Your hand immediately clapped over your mouth, as if physically covering it would keep you from embarrassing yourself further. In your defense, it was the first time a celebrity sat in your section at work, and no one had thought to warn you. And Harry Styles, no less. The man in front of you was probably still immortalized on your childhood bedroom wall, and now you'd all but outed yourself as a fan when he'd no doubt wanted some privacy.
"I'm so sorry, I—" How were you supposed to recover from this? Harry stared at you with a small smile, a pitying one, no doubt. God, you had one opportunity to act cool in front of a celebrity and you blew it in less than ten seconds. "I'm sorry, let me start over. Hi, I'm Y/n, and I'll be taking care of you today. Can I get you something to drink?"
"Just a water please," Harry replied, his voice soft as his smile widened, which made you think that perhaps he thought you making an absolute fool out of yourself was at the very least amusing.
Once you made it back to the service station to retrieve his water glass, you gave yourself exactly one minute to collect yourself. "He's just another customer. An extremely attractive customer," you murmured, grabbing a pitcher of water from the fridge. "You can do this, Y/n. Pull yourself together."
From there, things went smoothly. You acted like you hadn't freaked out when you initially greeted Harry's table, and Harry was thankfully on board with that plan. He was polite, wasn't fussed when a dish he wanted couldn't be made vegetarian, and was surprisingly interested in making conversation with you anytime you were at his table.
"How long have you worked here?"
"Too long," you joked. "Sometimes I feel like there's a bit of Stockholm Syndrome with this place, but the tips are good."
Your eyes widened a bit when you realized he might think you were making a joke about one of his songs—which you absolutely weren't trying to do—but you didn't comment on it, and thankfully neither did he. You talked a little bit more about the career you did want to get into, and casually asked what brought him to the restaurant you worked at. It wasn't one celebrities tended to frequent, but perhaps that was its charm to Harry.
"Had a day to myself, just thought I'd do some exploring," he explained before you left him to enjoy his meal.
You'd gotten a couple more tables since then and couldn't go over and talk to Harry like you wanted, but perhaps that was for the best. You flitted around the restaurant floor like you always did, charming customers and taking complaints in stride with a smile. Tips were key, and snarky comments or not being accommodating would get you nowhere with certain customers, even if it did kill you inside just a little bit to see an insufferable person get their way.
You didn't realize it at the time, but according to Harry, he watched you—not in a creepy way, per his recollection of your first meeting. He watched you chat with regulars and help your co-workers place orders and carefully placate disgruntled customers. And all the while, you still managed to stop by his table, smiling and topping off the coffee he ordered after he ate, which, according to him he'd done just so he could keep talking to you.
Apparently, he'd been working up the courage to flirt with you when you finally set the check down on the table. "No rush," you said with a smile before heading to another table, a party of ten that you accidentally huffed to him was supposed to be a party of five.
Harry paid, then smiled when his bill and credit card came back to him. Sorry for acting like an idiot earlier. It was nice meeting you! you'd written on the receipt, adorning it with a smiley face. You watched as Harry smiled as he read your note from Expo before one of the line cooks shouted at you to run the food that was up.
You didn't think you'd ever see Harry again, a universal truth, some might've called it. But for some reason, the notion disappointed you, and not because you didn't get a picture with your teenage crush. It felt bigger than that somehow, which was altogether crazy considering you'd only just met him.
So imagine your surprise when you saw him again two days later. "He was supposed to be in my section, but he insisted on yours. Don't fuck it up," one of your more vile co-workers told you, clearly jealous. And as you saw him, his head bent over the menu and his knee bouncing beneath the booth, your heart leaped in your chest in a way that made you both nervous and excited.
"You forgot something," he said as he closed out his check for the second time that week. Time had passed in a blur, despite it slowing down every time you went over to talk to him, which was to say a lot. It wasn't as busy as the day he first came in, leaving you no choice but to check on him more than you normally would.
"Did I?" you asked, looking down at the bill with furrowed brows.
"Last time I was here, I mean," Harry corrected.
Last time, you thought. All Harry had gotten was a salad and a coffee, but the tip he left was well over half of what your other tables had left that day combined. But you rang everything in correctly. Perhaps he was expecting a discount for his celebrity status? He didn't seem like the type, but that was the only conclusion you were able to draw.
"The note you left," he continued, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. He sat up straighter, giving you a better view of the Keith Harring shirt he wore. "It didn't have your number on it, so I've had to come back the last two days so I could ask you for it. Only now I know you don't work on Mondays."
Shock ran through your entire body, to the point where you couldn't even speak. Harry, Harry Styles, mind you, wanted your number. Badly enough that he'd come back to an average Mom-and-Pop restaurant to get it.
"No, I—I don't," was all you could manage as your entire face heated up.
"I hope I'm not sounding like a creep right now," Harry said, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "I realize now I may have participated in some light stalking."
"You're not," you blurted, trying to remember how to speak. You felt like you'd somehow entered an alternate dimension. "Here, hold on."
You pulled your order pad from your back pocket and scribbled your number down, willing your hands to stop shaking. Ripping it off the stack, you handed it to Harry, who took it from you graciously.
"Can I call you later?" he asked, standing up from the booth. You had to back up a couple steps to give him room, and you were now aware of just how tall he was as you craned your neck to look at him.
"Please," you blurted, cursing yourself for sounding so eager. Harry didn't seem to mind, though, smiling as he slipped his phone and wallet into the back pocket of his jeans. "I—I mean, sure. I'm off at eight tonight."
"I'll be counting down the minutes," he said before cursing under his breath. "Shit. I sounded like a stalker again, didn't I?"
A laugh bubbled out of you, making Harry's shoulders relax. "I'll allow it. Just this once."
Harry laughed too, then winked, and you were honestly so proud of yourself for not swooning in front of him. "I guess I'll be talking to you later then, Y/n."
*.*
"You made me so nervous," you said as you recalled the memory of how you'd embarrassed yourself in front of Harry the first time you met.
"I know," he said, laughing when you smacked his arm. "It was cute, though! And you also made me plenty nervous, to be fair."
"That is true," you sighed, grinning a little as you turned your face into his arm. "One of us stalked the other, and it certainly wasn't me."
"Sure, but one of us has posters of the other plastered all over their childhood bedroom."
Scoffing, you sat up and scooted away from him, making Hades bark in protest. "It's one poster. And you weren't even my favorite. Zayn was."
"Sure. Keep telling yourself that."
"I will."
Sighing, you settled deeper against him, as much as you could considering the puppy still in your lap. "Sometimes I think I keep the job because that's where we met."
"It's okay to let it go. We'll have the memory," Harry promised, his hand meeting yours as he began to scratch Hades' fur. "We'll figure it out. I promise."
Nodding, you reached for the remote and pressed play on the show, content to leave the conversation there. If Harry promised to help you figure it out, then you believed him.
#harry styles#harry styles blurb#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfic#harry styles oneshot#harry styles imagine#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x you#harry styles fluff#harry styles writing#harry styles one shot#harry styles fic
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Copper theft is the fastest-growing industry in our country. Whereas before you had to work an entire week of a job you hate, now you can just head to your local substation and grab some wire. Is it live? Maybe. Are you going to be the first person to get there? Statistically, no. Like Dr. Seuss once said: the early bird gets fucking charred, and then the bird who shows up about 15 minutes later and steps through the pre-cut hole in the fence and over the smoking corpse gets $11.63 in copper.
Now, you might think that it is depressing that so many people in our society are driven to destroying parts of the infrastructure in order to survive. And that is true. Even though running from guard dogs is good cardio, the current state of affairs is meeting few of local government's standards for proper functionality. We all pay for the cost of this theft, from elevated taxes to jacked-up power company service fees. The latter is especially tragic, as the amount that the fees are jacked up would otherwise go entirely to executive compensation instead of replacing some Romex.
Me, I'm doing my part. By driving a car that features as little wiring as possible, thieves aren't lured to steal it, and I won't have to buy more copper in order to replace that stolen wire. The planet will be that little bit happier knowing that an open-pit copper mine on the other side of the planet will fill underground aquifers up with horrific man-made solvents slightly slower due to my reduction in demand. And I've made exciting advancements in the field of using old coat hangers to replace some of that copper, too. I'm not gonna pass up a chance to make some extra money, after all, even if I do have to live with extremely dim headlights and wipers that only work on one side. Thieves made it like this, officer. I'm innocent.
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aita for refusing to even consider to take the blame for someone's kid being bitten by my dog?
Some info, the police has already been involved, a canine behavioural therapist has seen my dog, and legally me and my dog are not to blame. My dog was found not overly aggressive or dangerous. I had the whole incident on camera due to a security camera in my garden.
A kid in my neighbourhood (14M) decided to trespass in my garden (which has a 5,9ft fence) and throw fireworks at my dog while I was upstairs for a bit to get the laundry to hang outside, my dog got injured and tried to get away and instead of leaving or stopping this kid threw some more firework at him and my dog (100 pound shepherd mix) decided enough was enough and bit him in the leg. Kid climbed the fence and cried to his mom about it. The kid needed several stitches and will have some scars. His mom called the police but after I showed them the footage they did not take her side.
I went to small courts and they needed to pay for my vet bill because of the wounds my dog got from the fireworks. So I thought it was done with that.
But no, the mom of this kid decided to campaign against me in the neighbourhood and tried to get people to petition I put down my dog or compensate them in some way. I very much disagree with that and went against her and showed the video to those now involved. Most people are on my side but some people feel like any dog that bites a kid needs to be put down no matter what. I will not do that of course but I wonder what the opinion on here is about that. I just think this kid fucked around and found out and his mom failed him by letting him get away with shit like this.
Extra info, the kid also wrecked my barbecue and tried and failed to set my shed on fire. He's just a shit kid tbqh.
So, while my actions are already decided and I do not feel sorry at all, am I the asshole?
What are these acronyms?
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Weird question, but how would the creeps and Lane be affected by a reader who has obsessive pheromones. Ex. Any person they spend enough time with, the person (or people) surrounding them gets obsessed with the reader. I kinda imagine everyone putting on a gas mask once they snap out of it lol
I wonder if Lane would be affected, would they stay the same or be worse?
Please and thank you for serving us. I bid you a good day. Take care 🩷🩷🩷
🗒 ❛ Reader With Obsessive Pheromones ༉‧₊˚✧
Featuring: Jeff The Killer, Ben Drowned, Ticci Toby, Eyeless Jack, Masky, Hoodie, Lane The Lurker
#Notes: this was such a fun concept to write
pronouns used: none, gn! reader
˗ˏˋ back to navigation ´ˎ˗
꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Jeff The Killer
Absolutely falls for it. And it's so difficult to snap him out of it because he will not leave your side unless he's being forcefully dragged away, and that while still putting up a fight. Gets super touchy with you and actually treats you decently. He's just going on and on about how attractive you are and wow is that a new perfume? Once Masky manages to pull him away he'll refuse to come near you or even look you in the face, embarrassed about his own behavior. Avoids you like the plague.
꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Ben Drowned
My God he's already horny normally, imagine now. Hits on you nonstop in a very suggestive manner and is another one that refuses to leave your side. Will probably try to kiss you once or twice before being dragged away. To everyone's surprise, he doesn't seem to mind the fact that he was only obsessed with you because of the pheromones and still hits on you while wearing a gas mask. He's just funky like that.
꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Ticci Toby
He gets super flustered around you and stutters twice as much. Doesn't really try to flirt or make any moves, he just stands there awkwardly. Actually doesn't take him long to snap out of it since he gets overwhelmed with his own feelings and scurries away from you himself, without much needed intervention. He didn't like the feeling so he only talks to you while wearing a mask.
꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Eyeless Jack
Oof... Well, you see, obsession kind of triggers something... demonic inside of him, pretty similar to how I describe him in my NSFW posts. He's unable to speak and just kind of circles around you, acting like a guard dog. Will actually roar and claw and bite at anyone who tries to approach you or take him away from you, so he's the hardest to snap out of it. If he manages, though, he'll apologize for his behavior and ask you to please be more careful with this... power of yours.
꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Masky
Look, I'm trying to keep this post SFW, but it's getting a little difficult. He doesn't really show any change in behavior, to the point you might think he's immune somehow. That is, until he corners you against a wall, demanding you help him with the... Uhm, problem you've created. You'll have to get him out of it yourself. Once he's back to normal, he'll threaten you to not say a word about what he said to you to anyone else, his face flushing lightly underneath the mask.
꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Hoodie
Extremely similar to Masky. Doesn't show any sings of being affected until he makes a move, running a hand up your thigh and kissing your neck. You have to be lucky enough for someone to walk by or else things might escalate. Once he's normal again, he'll chuckle at you like it's no big deal, writing something on a piece of paper and handing it to you. It reads "Played a dangerous game there, doll".
꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Lane The Lurker
Oh boy. It's gonna be pretty impossible to get them out of it because they don't want to go back to normal. They enjoy the feeling of obsession. Follows you around like a lost puppy and does literally anything you ask them to, but asks for kisses and such as compensation. Can and will threaten to kill anyone that approaches you, being another creep or family member or anything else. They want every last bit of your attention and they plan to get it.
#creepypasta#creepypasta headcanons#creepypasta x reader#jeff the killer#jeff the killer x reader#ben drowned#ben drowned x reader#ticci toby x reader#ticci toby#eyeless jack#eyeless jack x reader#masky#masky x reader#hoodie#hoodie x reader#ray.writes
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Thank you so much. This was interesting but sad at the time. May I also request what would married life be like with Enhypen?
sorry it took a while but it was a bit difficult for me to imagine them in marriage as they are still so young, i hope you still enjoy it nevertheless
Married life with enhypen
warnings: none - lots of fluff and tiny bit of angst
Heesung
I think you and Heesung would be the same little lovebirds during marriage as during dating, forever in that honeymoon stage. being all other each other all the time and flirting constantly. you would be that couple that makes others believe in love when they look at you.
Hee would love to brag how amazing his wife is to everyone and post you every chance he gets. you doing the same.
you would go out often for fun dates or hang out with your friends. the nights you spent together at home you would play video games or watch movies and cuddle.
from time to time you would try to cook or bake something but since neither of you is good at it you would order takeout most of the time.
you would argue sometimes, but it would be mostly arguments about small unimportant things, quickly being forgotten after you make up ;)
Jay
Jay would be literally the best husband ever. always taking care and protecting you. true husband goals.
he would be very domestic. he would cook fancy dinners for you so you can enjoy cozy dates at home, drinking wine and talking about your day.
then you would sit on the coach watching netflix and he would rub your feet. you would massage his shoulders in return. he would love taking baths with you and cuddling after.
you would still go out for dates but not as often as in the dating stage. he would be big on summer trips and weekend getaways though. always making sure to capture great pictures of you wherever you go.
in public he wouldn’t be very affectionate but he would always make sure that people know you’re his wife, he’s so proud to be with you. he would make an effort to have a good relationship with your family and friends, and expect you to do that for him too.
Jake
Jake would be a very loving and supportive husband. always by your side, very protective, similar to Jay I would say.
he would definitely become more domestic during marriage, but i believe he would still love to go out and party a lot, finding new fun ways you can spend time together.
your family would absolutely love him, your mom calling him her son and dad always inviting you over. he would be an absolutely sweetheart.
i also believe he would love to raise a pet with you, most likely a dog. i see you as super enthusiastic dog parents, treating him almost like your own child.
Sunghoon
Sunghoon and you would definitely look like a perfect marriage. still going on cute dates and having that lovey eyes when you look at each other. Sunghoon would always urge to wear matching outfits and you would love to take pictures together.
i see you as a couple who would often have deep conversation late at night, opening up only to each other and relying on their spouse a lot. but also both of you needing your own space and being comfortable with giving it to each other.
you would argue sometimes as Sunghoon could be annoying at times, but finally you would always find a way to make up.
Jungwon
Jungwon and you would have a very private marriage. not many people around knowing the details and dynamic between you. but you would complete each other very well.
i think similar as with Sunghoon you and Jungwon would rely on each other a lot, opening up only to their partner.
i think Jungwon would be the sweetest husband, always feeling bad for not having enough time for his wife he tries to compensate it with cute little gifts and taking you to surprise dates.
he would also love spending time together at home or just being close to each other when you do your own things. he would love to bake with you. in public he wouldn’t be very affectionate but in private setting he would be constantly looking for kisses and hugs.
he would always talk about you, not even realizing it. everyone would knew he’s so in love with his wife.
Sunoo
you and Sunoo would be like two best friends who are in love and got married. you would be inseparable, always together, talking, texting, laughing together. you could never get enough of being together even after a long time.
i think you would go out more than spend your time at home, always having tone of fun ideas to do lists to check out. you would enjoy teasing or play fighting sometimes.
you would always take tons of pictures together and have the diy photo wall at home. always visiting photo booths when you go out.
you would be that couple that judges and gossips about everyone - but not in a mean way. you would have a positive energy to it.
Niki
you and Niki would be the cool marriage. especially around others, they would always admire you, both of you laid back and funny in a group setting but still having heart eyes for each other. you would always bring the best vibes.
in general you would be more private about your relationship but you would not spend that much time at home. you would both enjoy spending time actively and seeking new passions you could pursue together.
you would rely on each other a lot, but i think deep conversation wouldn’t happen often as it wouldn’t been easy for him to open up. however he would be your number one supporter and you would always feel safe with him.
you would argue sometimes, but after giving each other time to cool off you would always be able to talk it out and learn how to be better for each other.
masterlist
#enhypen#enhypen drabbles#enhypen fanfic#heesung drabble#enhypen jake#lee heesung x reader#enhypen headcanons#enhypen reactions#enhypen fluff#enhypen masterlist#enhypen married
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