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skoulsons · 1 year

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Talking about the sniper section bc it’s. My heart feels like that house.

First, BEAUTIFULLY DONE. absolutely perfect, every part of it. But rewatching, Joel never stops watching Ellie. Not for a second. He’s watching where she’s going and he’s watching behind her for infected. When she’s knocked to the ground after Joel shoots the one clicker, she spots an open window in a van. Joel is watching her and sees where she’s looking and knows exactly where she’s trying to go. You see his eyes move to the left to see the van. And she knows he’ll kill all of the infected in her way. Because she trusts him. And because he won’t let her die.

And once Ellie’s in the van, Joel’s fire ceases except for killing the ones behind it. He is only looking out for her. Anything gets close to that van, he’s there immediately. There’s a shot of him after the bloater surfaces of him just watching. Not firing, just observing the van. Watching for infected. Keeping her safe.

And then one comes up, a young girl in a BLUES CLUES SHIRT, and you see the panic immediately on his face. He goes from completely still to shaking. He fires and he misses. His reload even feels rushed. His breath is shaky, hitching even. His entire face is trembling. And then the clicker is in the car and he can’t see it anymore. He can’t protect her anymore. And it cuts again to him taking two quick, rushed, and paralyzing breaths. He adjusts his grip on the gun because his hands are sweating. And now he, much like she had to minutes prior, has to trust that she can and will get out of this, as much as he wants to be the one to save her from it

Then it cuts to Joel again when she’s outside the van.

This is panic. Fear. This is not knowing what’s coming out of that van. If that clicker ate a hole in her neck and it’s the one escaping. The fear of not knowing her fate and if he just lost her again. Of not being able to protect her because he can’t see her through the windows of the van. The fear of so many uncertainties.

And this is relief. His shoulders have even fallen back slightly, relaxing. When he sees she’s out and closed the door on the clicker. That she’s, in a weird, twisted way, safe again. Because he can protect her again. Because he can, and will, kill every infected in her path.

And then she’s on the ground and they can see each other again. Ellie looks over to Henry and Sam and sees them struggling under the car. She can’t leave them. She reaches for her shiv and she looks to Joel in the house.

She’s determined. And he knows it. He can’t see them under the car, but he can guess what she’s saying. What she wants to do. What she’s asking him to do. To continue to protect her (like he’d ever stop), as dangerous and heart attack inducing as it will be for him to see her do this. And he makes a face that Pedro seems to make in every role he plays.

This face. This face, to me, means a plethora of different things depending on his role. But in this context, it’s more of a ‘fine, I’ll do it. I’ve got you’ one. He even nods slightly. Really slightly. Deep down, he wants them safe, too. It’s dangerous down there. It’s full of infected. And he’d like nothing more than to get out of there with her in one piece. But Ellie has a big heart. She cares about Henry and Sam. And Joel knows that. He’s seen how she’s been with Sam. Laughing with him, reading with him, signing with him, playing soccer with him. How long has it been since she’s been able to do this with another kid? But Ellie’s asks him just a little more. I need to get to them. Protect me.

And he does, of course he does. He kills five(?) clickers that touch her or get in her path. And he’s no longer shaking. He’s as stable as ever in firing. He nails every single shot, killing every clicker in her way. Ellie gets to Henry and Sam, killing the clicker on Henry and stabbing the one on Sam while Joel finishes it off. And he watches for any more that come their way. And once he sees they’re in the clear, he leaves and meets up with them immediately

Main point being - protective dad Joel <3

#those two Joel screenshots? the ones of panic and fear? those are like a second apart. maybe less.#it’s all in his eyebrows and forehead. his forehead is creased and there’s lines at the beginning of that shot #but when he relaxes they immediately soften #I hope this is coherent because it is very late and my thoughts are RACING #I made a list of six things I want to write about-so expect those this week if they all end up happening :)#this came out very long but don’t expect any future ones to get any shorter #the last of us hbo #tlou spoilers #joel miller #ellie williams

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akajustmerry · 1 year

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thinking about "everyone hit me I was annoying" and how all the violence we've seen between the siblings involves Roman. likely because they saw their own father "beat him with a slipper until he cried" just for ordering lobster (though I think the real reason Logan targeted Roman with so much violence is obvious at this point), thinking about how they claim he liked the violence too because it became so normal for them that it was mythified into a joke, into something so unremarkable they claim not to remember. Roman's pain is a joke at most, something for Kendall to use against Logan when Kendall chooses to acknowledge it all. so, he tries to beat them to the punchline, beat them to the insult, to the abuse with loud vigour, but sits quietly in fear when there's no garuntee someone won't hurt him and deny it if it goes wrong. Roman isn't going back to Logan because he has some hope Logan is changed. He's going back to Logan because Kendall and Shiv assumed he would. Not only did they not trust him, but they threw his greatest pain and shame in Logan's face, not out of a sense of justice, but just to spite Logan. He's going back to Logan because he knows to expect that kind of unpredictable cruelty from him and so it hurts less than staying with Shiv and Kendall and getting it from them. He's not going back to Logan looking for denied love, he's gone back because he's given up on believing anyone in his family can give it and better the devil you know.

#roman roy #succession spoilers #succession #I'm so sad I think I need a warm shower to calm down that was...a little too real #/

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romeulusroy · 1 year

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Being The Youngest Roy Would Include: Pt. 1

A/N: This I'd solely based on this fic, which I am in love with :) There is no gif of all four of them that isn't sad!!! 😭

Warning: addiction/addiction mention, abuse/neglect

Being The Youngest Roy Would Include: Pt. 2

You were an accident. Your siblings made jokes about it your entire life, but there was some truth to it. Logan didn't want anymore kids, he didn't want the kids he had, but you were born regardless of what he thought or wanted

Your mother had a short fling with Logan between Lady Caroline and Marcia. They were married, sure, but that didn't really mean anything, and they divorced shortly after you were born

Your siblings were already out the door by the time you came along, but they still adored you, especially as a baby/toddler

The few pictures you have of your childhood, you're surrounded by your brothers and sister, all of them wanting to hold you and play with you

They really do love you, in their own ways

Connor especially loved you. It's his favorite thing in the world to be a big brother fatherly figure to you and Ken and Shiv and Roman. He was so lonely when it was just him. Now he has you guys 💕

You grew up watching your siblings fight and argue and bicker as a means of showing their love, though Connor tried his best to show you what real love was (aka not just swearing at one another)

He didn't want you growing up the same way he had, ignored and terribly unloved. He never wants you to feel the same way he did, does

"Bitch."

"Whore."

"Shiv, Rome, not in front of y/n."

Roman took it upon himself to steer you clear of certain friends of Logan's, friends like Mo, who weren't to be trusted around children. Whenever you asked why, he'd give you some non-answer answer and tell you to get back to your blocks

"Babies play with blocks."

"Then your crayons, I don't know- whatever."

Kendall always had something sweet for you when he has a meeting with Logan. You weren't allowed sweets, not around your father, but Ken could always sneak you something. Even as you got older, and you reminded him you weren't a little kid anymore, he never forgot your favorites

"You know I'm not five anymore, right?"

"I know, I know, just take it."

Whatever kindness they showed you, it could never equate to the love of your parents, especially your father, neither of which were affectionate people

You were an angry kid. Your father wasn't exactly the most loving. In fact, you sensed that he hated you for as long as you could remember. That made you mad and disappointed in yourself, like you'd done something wrong. Like you were born wrong. So you'd lash out. You broke things, you screamed and cried, you hurt yourself in the process, you did all you could to get his attention, and still nothing worked. Nothing.

Rather, it was Shiv who held a frozen bag of peas on your bruises, who wrapped bandaids around your broken skin, and reminded you you were only hurting yourself, the two of you watching the housekeeper sweep up glass or patch up walls, whatever mess you made. She didn't like seeing you like this, knowing it only enraged your father instead of getting the response you were looking for

"Y/n, why do you keep doing this?"

"I don't know."

"There's gotta be a reason."

There were hundreds of reasons, but you didn't have the words for it yet, so you'd shrug, feeling lighter having gotten it all out

You were grounded a lot, for days at a time, your father banishing you to your room when he was sick of dealing with you. It only made you more upset. Nannies quit constantly, so a lot of the time, it was up to him to deal with your antics. Your mother, when she was home, stayed far from either of you, feigning a headache

You didn't have the words to explain all this, so you made a mess of your room. Tore things apart, broke everything in sight. If it wasn't your body that was hurting, it was the things around you. Eventually, he got rid of everything but the dresser and your bed. Everything else was bare. You'd kick and thrash and yell, but you were too afraid to leave

He didn't have to lock the door, though. All he had to do was stand in front of your door for a few minutes, not saying a word, and that was scary enough to get you to stop, at least for the time being

None of your siblings knew about this. When you were grounded, Logan never let them near you. It wouldn't be until years later that Ken or Con even suspected anything like that when you made a passing comment

He saw your out-of-control emotions as weakness. He tried to get your mother to help, blaming her family genes, but she was out of the house long before you got yourself under control. She moved on with her life, leaving you with him to go abroad, live the life of luxury with her flavor of the month. She had no interest in being your mother, deciding you'd be better off with him

One day he called you into his study. You knew you'd done bad. You'd thrown another tantrum in front of his investors, in front of friends, and that was the last straw. Tabloids were already talking about the cuts and bruises you gave to yourself, accusing Logan of abusing you. He was completely embarrassed by your behavior, your newest Nanny dragging you out before any real damage was done. Still, you knew that crossed a line. You were sick with worry. You'd only ever been in his study a handful of times, mostly sneaking in when he wasn't home.

Logan gave you the only advice you'd ever receive from him: Quiet down. It was vague and angry and not very helpful, like most of his parenting ways

Soon after that, you had your first drink. You weren't sure what it was, or why you wanted to try it, only that Roman had left it unattended and wouldn't notice, that it made your family a little bit better so why couldn't it help you?

It was the first time in a long time everything had gone quiet. This fury that sat in the middle of your chest has shrunk. You felt like you could breathe and think without wanting to explode. Without wanting to burn the world down. It didn't taste good, at all, but it helped

You figured this is what he meant. This is what he wanted. It wasn't a lot, not enough to get you drunk, but enough to quiet every mean thought in your head

After that, you found your new way to cope. The tantrums stopped. You were rewarded with your things back. Your nanny remained skeptical, but everyone else saw this is a good thing, a phase you'd grown out of. Shiv especially found relief in this, the sight of those bruises and gashes and cuts enough to make her scared what you were going to do next

Your mother believed it was the strict parenting style of Logan that straightened you out, even happier with her decision to leave you behind

From then on out, you were sneaking anything you could. From your father, your siblings, off the silver platters at parties and dinners and meetings. No one noticed when an extra glass went missing. They barely noticed your existence

Your tolerance grew the older you got, and the anger came back. This indescribable fury caused fights between you and Logan, rarely between you and your siblings. Those moments were the worst, when you couldn't bite your tongue. The alcohol could only do so much, so you turned to other things to take that last edge off

Kendall had coke, you could get weed at school, there were a surplus of pills in the bathroom cabinet. Whatever it took to quiet down, whatever it took to take that edge off, to stop acting this way, you figured it was the right thing to do

Your teens were a blur, a mass, of bad ideas and forced photo opportunities. Going to clubs until the sun came out, calling cars to pick you up, changing just in time for a family dinner to discuss shareholders or to schmooze with old friends of Logans. Always polite, always present, even if you were a million miles away

You weren't sleeping a lot, but you didn't need to. The uppers kept you awake, the downers kept your skin from crawling, the booze leveled everything out

#headcanon #succession headcanon #connor roy #connor roy x reader #connor roy headcanon #kendall roy #kendall roy x reader #kendall roy headcanon #shiv roy #shiv roy x reader #shiv roy headcanon #roman roy #roman roy x reader #roman roy headcanon #roy siblings #roy sibling reader #logan roy #logan roy headcanon #logan roy x reader

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piratesfromspace · 1 year

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The Escape (Joel/Reader)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader Rated: Explicit Word count: 2.9k Summary: You've been captured by slavers and thrown into the same cell as Joel. Note: I've been through a severe lack of energy and inspiration, but here is my take on Joel, featuring some sweet smut of course! This happens roughly 10 years after the Outbreak, so Joel would be in his 40s and Reader is in her 20s. Content: hurt/comfort, smut, almost-virginity loss, p-i-v, praise kink, alcohol, overall canon typical violence

MASTERLIST

When you’re thrown into his cell - an old bathroom, all broken tiles and rusted pipes - Joel gets tense, hand clenching harder on the shiv he improvised a couple days ago. He has no idea what the slavers are plotting. He’s been held in here for maybe one week now, hard to tell when the days are blending into each other, long boring hours only punctuated by a bottle of water and some food left on the floor without a word.

He knows his worth is in his strength and the slavers have no interest in letting him starve to death - that’s the only positive thing in his whole ordeal. He can’t believe he’s been stupid enough to let himself be captured. But he had reacted one second too late, and there were too many, and here he is, waiting to be sold to the highest bidder.

You land hard on your knees, unable to stop your pathetic fall on the hard floor, as the door of the cell is closed shut once again. He watches, ready to strike, as you scramble to get back in a sitting position - and then you finally notice him, standing tall in one of the corners, the glint of something undoubtedly lethal in the hand he’s hiding behind him. You try to get up on your feet, but your muddy boots are sliding on the tiles, your legs shaking with the effort - you’re clearly exhausted. Your hands are bound behind your back, leaving you with very little option. You push yourself back until the wall hits your shoulders, until you have nowhere else to go.

Joel is assessing your form very calmly, a stark contrast with the frantic terror pinching your brows. You look young, younger than him for sure, body lean from years of privation (like everyone else now), and he’s sure you could be mistaken for a teenager from afar - maybe you were when the Outbreak happened 10 years ago, but he can see the way your eyes are sunk, the fine skin under them puffy from a decade-worth of bad sleep and dirty conscience. Nah, you may be a child of the Apocalypse, but you’re definitely old enough to realize you’re in a shitty situation. Something like pity tugs at his heart - or more like recognition, the fire in your gaze despite the fear washing over your features, the will to push through the tiredness, the need to fight until the very end, even cornered and tied up. A mirror handed to him of what he was like at your age.

Maybe you can be useful, you can help him escape, surely you know a trick or two, or you wouldn’t have been able to survive this long - he tries to convince himself that’s the reason why he helps you. Why he walks up to you, crouches in front of your scared face and orders you to turn around. He has to repeat himself because you don’t want to listen but he does his best to not sound as harsh as usual, and finally, you understand and offer him your bound hands. He tugs on the dirty scrap of fabric, unties the knot with skillful fingers. He takes hold of your wrists before you can even move your arms, and for a second you feel the icy stab of panic and treason in your throat. Since when do you trust strangers?

“Easy there…” his warm voice rumbles in your back “Guess you’ve been like this for more than an hour, ‘gonna hurt if you move too fast.” he explains, while bringing slowly your hands in front of you. He’s right, you hiss a pained fuck when your shoulders protest at the change in position. He’s freaking close, his chest almost flush to your back, the rough skin of his palms still on your wrists. He suddenly lets go of you, gets up on his feet, and you turn on your knees to face him. He looks older than you, his temples already turning to gray. There is a gravity in his expression, like he stopped smiling 10 years ago and never did it again since - but still you catch a distant warmth in his soft brown eyes, behind his steely demeanor. His whole persona is a mix of hard and soft, exposed forearms showing off the chords of his muscles under a skin littered with scars, contrasting with the mundane patchy beard and the soft curls on his nape. He’s kinda handsome in his own way, even though he looks like someone who can do ugly things.

—

That’s the beginning of your cooperation. You had helped him, baiting the guard in pretending to be sick, and then he had used the makeshift knife to slit his throat, without so much as a second of hesitation. You remember the bright red blood spilling on the dirty tiles, staining the dried grout vermilion. It had been a while since you had seen a healthy human get killed up close. You had stood there, bile at the back of your tongue, ringing in your ears, until the firm command - move, come on - had made you join him. He had slashed his way out with too much ease, and had made you run for so long, you got sick the minute you finally stopped inside an abandoned house. You spat all the bile that had been bubbling in your guts, folded over the moldy kitchen sink. You had expected him to get disgusted and just leave you there to a very certain death, but he just took out a bottle of water from the backpack he stole during your escape and wordlessly handed it to you. He did not have to do that, he could have kept the precious resource for himself. You still wonder why - it wasn’t out of selflessness, definitely not out of kindness. You guessed he needed someone to stay awake and keep watch so he could sleep a little. Useful - you were useful.

He brings you back to the QZ because that’s where you’ll be safe - safer at least. Shielded from the slavers and the raiders and the biters. Definitely not from the corrupt FEDRA guards, the local traffickers, the ruthless fireflies - and really, any individual ready to take advantage showing how thin the veneer of civilization truly was in the first place.

You stay in his small apartment because you have nowhere else to go. Even after you start working and earning your part. At first, he slept on the couch so you could have the bed. But one day, after a gruesome double-shift, he comes back home so exhausted he just crashes on the mattress without realizing you’re already there. It’s not the first time you sleep next to him. You had to during the trek back to the QZ. Only way to keep warm. It was utilitarian, nothing else. Still, it meant you trusted him enough to close your eyes in his presence. You still do.

When you wake up the next morning, you feel him pressed against your back. Either him or you had sought the other’s warmth during the night. You have to admit you slept pretty well. You’re usually freezing and he’s just… warm. A solid wall radiating heat behind you. His slow breathing is keeping at bay the usual rush of anxiety you get when you wake up every day to discover this too long nightmare is indeed reality. You guess you had to have a similar effect on him because dawn is already lighting the room with its dull glow and he’s not awake yet.

That’s the beginning of another level of your relationship - you don’t want to give a name to whatever strange alliance is going on between you. Still, night after night, he keeps going back, and you let him, welcome him silently in your bed (actually it’s his). You should be scared, he’s but a man, and if he was any other man, you would know that he’d been expecting something from you. Expecting you to offer your naked skin and your warm body in exchange for his protection. But it never comes. Joel seems very content in being able to lay there on his mattress and share his warmth with you. You can even see how he glares darkly at that FEDRA guard who keeps talking to you for any reason possible. How he makes sure you’re home as soon as the sun sets.

And then, one day, you’re on his sofa sharing some whisky - the nice one, the real one, a 20-year old bottle he traded - and it says a lot he’s even sharing it with you in the first place. Joel is in a good mood, he cracks a couple awful dad jokes, and you laugh, so hard tears leak on your cheeks. He doesn’t think, just swipes them with his thumb, calloused pad of his finger on the sensitive skin just under your lashes. He lingers there, looks at you with hooded eyes and you know you’re royally fucked. He looks so good, the warm light of sunset on his tanned skin, his hair mussed, making him look a bit younger. It makes you forget he’s almost two decades older - but what does that even mean today? Life - death - is no longer this linear thing, and there is no one left to scold you about your partner’s choice. Nobody cares anymore. Yet he cared for you. So you decide to indulge in this desire that has been brewing in your chest since the moment he untied you in that damned icy cell.

He’s kind of a jerk with it, lets you do all the work. Maybe he’s just too scared you would feel forced to accept what he wants to offer. But you soldier on, you kiss him with all the fervor of your youth, climb on his lap, and keep licking his tongue until he finally dares to take charge. Joel tastes like the bourbon discarded on the floor - sweet and rich, smoked spice and the desperate furor of someone whose will to live only surpasses his devastating grief by a short inch.

You sigh in his mouth, the relief provided by his touch welcome but not enough to quench the pent-up thirst you’ve been harboring for years now. He must feel it because when your slightly shaking fingers are hastily working the buttons of his shirt open, then diving straight to the fly of his jeans, he stops you.

“Wait”, he rasps, a hint of worry mixed in the molasses of his voice, “please tell me you have done this before”.

“Yeah -yes, yes… just -it’s been a long time. Like, not since the ‘break…”

“Fuck.” he answers, head lolling backward against the sofa, and you’re sure you screwed up. No way he’s gonna want to do it with an almost virgin. For your defense, after a few experiments with your then-boyfriend from before the apocalypse, your possibilities were quite limited. You focused more on staying alive than romance. More on avoiding men than courting them. Years went by and no one came who you could trust enough. Until him.

“Please, Joel” you kiss his cheek, his neck. “I want to feel good just for a bit”, you beg him, because the thought of him leaving you like this makes you wanna die of shame.

You feel more than you hear him growl, the rumble of his chest making you shiver against him. He grounds his hands on your waist, presses the rough pads of his fingers into your supple and warm flesh.

“Remove your clothes”, he finally commands. Your jeans and sweater are thrown on the ground without second thought. You’re naked while he just pushed his pants low enough to free his already leaking cock.

“Joel…” your gasp dies in your throat when he crashes his mouth on yours again. He’s… big. You haven’t seen a lot of cocks in your life, but you’re pretty sure he definitely has bragging rights. He feels burning hot and surprisingly soft in your palm, pulsing in time with the frantic beating of your heart.

He’s not especially careful when he parts your folds, long fingers pressing against your clit in a couple of crude circles before pushing inside you. The intrusion is nothing like you remember. It burns in an addictive way, and when he crooks his index toward your belly, and presses his thumb on your clit, you let out a whimper that makes him groan in response. His other hand has threaded itself in your hair, and he uses it to hold your head steady.

“Eyes on me sweetheart” he urges. His lips are parted, the glint of his canines echoing the predatory gaze he’s pining you with. It’s been barely a minute and you’re already panting, feeling your orgasm build up at an impressive pace. You muffle your cries against your palm, unwilling for anyone on the other side of those cardboard thin walls to hear you.

“Come on, don't get shy now.” he rasps, voice thick in his throat. “Wanna hear you when I make you come”. Reluctantly, you remove your hand, finding purchase on his shoulders where you sink your short nails, trying to contain the molten wave of pleasure washing over you. The orgasm is brutal, your whole body seizing as Joel keeps on grounding his thumb cruelly hard on your clit, the fist on your hair tightening even more as he praises you throughout. It hurts so good you don’t remember sex could even be like this.

You’re barely down from your high that Joel manhandles your pliant body until you’re under him on the couch. He’s still clothed, his jeans scratchy against your bare legs. His fingers follow an ugly scar on your flank - you got this one pretty early after the end of the world, it’s still itchy sometimes, you don’t really want to talk about it - and you hear him mumble how pretty you are, more for himself than for you. “Joel” you plead again and he snaps out of his haze, voracious glint back in his eyes.

“I’m here, I’m here” he repeats, guiding his cock against your wet slit. He stops just a second to ask if you still want this, and you beg his name again. Finally, he pushes inside you, fills you in one slow motion. You can’t stop the litany of fuck escaping your mouth. It feels like he’s splitting you in two, molding your flesh to him. The stretch is a lot, makes your brain short-circuit. “Breathe” he instructs, his fingers - still wet from your desire - finds your cheek in a soothing gesture. “Stay with me”, he adds, voice low against the dainty shell of your ear.

Joel fucks you slow, way more gentle than when he had his fingers buried in your cunt a few minutes before. He pushes your knees apart, hikes your legs high on his waist, almost folding you in half. It still hurts a little, but the pressure feels good, even better when one of his hands finds your clit again. Your soft moans fill the air between you, warm with whiskey and need. One particularly powerful snap of his hips and his cock touches something bright inside of you, awakening feelings you had even forgotten about. He keeps rubbing the delicate and swollen flesh just above there you’re joined, and you already know your second orgasm is not far.

You seek his mouth, demanding for him to kiss you, as you bury your hand in his soft curls, where early swirls of gray ring the end of his youth. A sudden burst of need and yearning and almost sadness shots through you. It’s not only about being intimate with someone after all those years. It’s the emotion of trusting another human enough to bare your body, to let them come close, to show vulnerability - not in the form of the pain and the gruesome you’re both accustomed to - no, the real vulnerability that lies in the will to share something good, something mundane and beautiful, sinful and sacred. The illusion that everything will be alright, that, in the next seconds, you both have nothing else to care about than your common pleasure, than the warmth of the other’s skin, than this silly and dangerous thrill you’re willing to offer. You’re opening your legs as much as your heart, and you know it’s going to wreck you in the most stunning way.

You come with a whisper of his name against his lips, like a secret prayer, an oath that in this instant he is all you believe in. He follows you in your bliss just after, considerate enough to pull out and cum on your belly. You forgot how messy all this can be. But the sight of his cum on your skin is also a bleak reminder of reality - you better not get pregnant now. He must sense your distress because he cups your cheeks gently, kisses you again.

“Stay with me” he says, echoing his words from a few minutes earlier, when you were stuffed full with him. Except this time, you think you understand what he means - what he truly means.

You think you feel him smile in the kiss.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel the last of us #joel tlou #pedro pascal imagine #joel miller x you #tlou hbo #joel miller #joel miller fic

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the-west-meadow · 1 year

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hi! i’m not sure if you have anymore request slots open (if you don’t just ignore this) but could you write a roman roy x reader with the prompt “you’re an asshole, you know that?”

i’m obsessed with your roman fics!!

one more just for fun :) I'll open these again in a little while. in the meantime, more Roman dysfunction!

Roman Roy x Reader

prompt: you're an asshole, you know that?

It had been Roman’s idea. Invite Siobhan and Tom over for dinner, impress them with how mature and normal you both were. Roman finally had something he could be proud of: you. And he wanted to show it off.

But Tom couldn’t make it. Sick with a cold, or perhaps just unable to be around Shiv in public at the moment. So Shiv showed up alone in a pale pink pantsuit and the three of you proceeded to drink into the night.

The Roy siblings held their liquor surprisingly well. Shiv didn’t even blush. The only thing different about Roman was how his hair became increasingly disheveled as the night went on. You sat at the head of the table, getting more and more tipsy, endlessly amused by their banter.

“And what about you?” Shiv said, turning to you. “I heard you’re the only reason Roman was able to seal the deal with Matsson.”

“Oh, come on,” Roman said. “That’s bullshit. You know that was all me.”

“Hold on,” you interjected. “We double-teamed him, Roman. Did you block that out or what?”

“It was my deal. Dad trusted me to do it. And I fucking did it.”

“So you didn’t have any help?” Shiv chided. “None whatsoever?”

“If you count standing there looking pretty, then sure, Y/N contributed.”

You felt the sting of his words through your buzz.

“That’s bullshit,” you murmured, stirring the toothpick in your martini glass.

“You want credit for helping? Okay, fine.” He stood up, performing a theatrical bow. “My deepest appreciation for charming Matsson with your wiles.”

“Fuck off, Roman,” you snapped.

“You know,” Roman went on, “He only listened to what you had to say because he wanted to fuck you.”

You stood up, staring him down. You saw him cower slightly under your gaze.

“Fuck you,” you hissed, then stalked out of the room.

Shiv looked at Roman and blinked.

“Wow. Great job,” she said.

Roman collapsed back into his chair, sulking.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” Shiv continued.

“Yeah, so what. I guess it’s the Dad in me.”

“You’re going to lose Y/N at this rate.”

“Maybe I don’t give a shit.”

“Then you’re an idiot and an asshole. Go back there and apologize. I’ll wait.”

Roman stood with a dramatic sigh. “Don’t make me do it.”

“I’m not making you do anything. It’s in your own best interest.”

He shuffled out of the room, towards the bedroom. He tried the door, which was unlocked, and slowly crept inside.

You were curled in a chair by the window, gazing out at the city. The room was otherwise dark. Roman collapsed onto the edge of the bed and lie back.

“Fuck,” he sighed. “I’m sorry, I guess.”

“Yeah, but you meant what you said.”

“Did I?”

“And you were right. Lukas probably only heard me out because he wanted to fuck me. And you were jealous.”

Roman went silent for a long moment.

“Sorry, I’m not capable of jealousy.”

“Bullshit, Roman.”

“Seriously, I don’t care if guys look at you like that. It doesn’t bother me at all to think of Matsson imagining you naked. Maybe I get off on it.”

You looked at him, unable to tell for once if he was being serious or not.

“It’s okay to be jealous.”

“Nope. Not jealous. If I was jealous it would mean I had feelings. Which I don’t.”

You sighed. “Do you think you’ll ever tell me what you really feel?”

“Probably not.” There was a long pause, then he went on in a softer voice. “I don’t really know what the fuck I’m feeling, anyway.”

“You don’t have to know,” you said. “But that’s a start.”

He got up suddenly, then sat down at your feet with his arms around his knees.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

You put your hands on his head, further disheveling his floppy hair.

“It’s okay.”

Without another word, you both stood up and went back to join Shiv, who had made herself another cocktail. She watched the two of you enter the room with an amused grin.

“So?”

“Y/N made me talk about my feelings.”

“What’s the verdict?” Shiv said.

“I don’t have any and I hate you both.”

You shoved him lightly as he sat down. He dipped his fingers in his drink and flicked them at you, spraying your face. You rounded on him but stopped. His eyes crinkled with a mischievous grin that melted your heart. Beneath the table, you felt his foot hesitantly touch yours. He glanced at you with a tentative smile.

Shiv sighed and shook her head, tossing back the rest of her drink.

“You guys are perfect for each other.”

#roman roy x reader #roman roy/reader #roman roy #reader insert #request #succession #lukas matsson #siobhan roy

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wambsgansshoelaces · 5 months

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Turmoil; Chapter 4

Roman Roy x Reader

a/n: I’m back on that grind guys. enjoy x

Word Count: 2.744k

“You’re fucking lucky Y/N was there,” Kendall says, struggling not to raise his voice. “You’re so fucking lucky your vote didn’t tip the scale.”

You’re back in Kendall’s office, you and him perched on his sofa while Roman is stood, leaning against the wall.

“I… I just couldn’t,” he says meekly.

“Then why’d we agree to a vote of no confidence?” you ask. “Roman, I get if your feelings are complicated about this, but you almost fucked us over.“

“Why am I doing this again?” he asks, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes.

Kendall scoffs. “You need to think about what you want. Dad’s a horrible person doing horrible things. You can go run to him, but I’m staying here.”

“We go to Norway tomorrow. How about we just have a good time?” Roman suggests. “There’s nothing we- or he, for the matter, can do while we’re abroad. I need… I just need a break.” You roll your eyes and get to your feet.

“Whatever, Roman. I’ll see you at home.” You give Kendall an affectionate squeeze on the shoulder before going out and finding Greg in the bullpen.

“Oh, hello, Y/N.” He finishes whatever it is he was doing and turns in his chair to face you. “I could hear the… commotion from all the way over here. And I saw the police, and, uh, Kendall’s still alive, so…?”

“Yeah. It worked, surprisingly. They had to escort Logan out the conference room.” You drag a hand over your eyes. “Instead of dinner, want to go out for lunch? I like you, Greg, but my brain’s going to be fried by the time the work day’s over, and I don’t want to subject you to that.”

He smooths his dress pants at the knee before getting up. “Yeah, no, yeah, that’d be great.” He glances over your shoulder. “Uh, is he okay?”

You follow his gaze, peering into Kendall’s office to find Roman facing you both, watching intently with his hands folded behind his back. “Don’t mind him. He’s neurotic.” You touch your thumb to the cool gold of the ring sitting on your finger.

“Well, then, after you.” You walk across the street to a quaint brunch spot that’s hailed for it’s food. “I love this place,” Greg tells you. The conversation pivots, however, when you both are seated. “Shiv told me you need some, what should I say… favors?”

“We do, and I’m sorry it’s all been dumped on you.”

“No, it’s okay. It makes me feel important.”

You laugh. “What do you have in mind? Shiv tell you anything?”

“I’ve been thinking- and it’s completely valid if my voice isn’t relevant to you, but I’d like to share my thoughts -that instead of whaling so hard on Logan directly, why not try to get access to him through Marcia? Or any past… connection?”

“Do you think we’ll be able to find anything?”

”I heard, through the grapevine, of course, a few rumors about Marcia and a… new friend.”

“If you find anything,” you say carefully, “I think you know what to do.”

“I also have heard a lot of complaining from people who work directly under him. Or, used to, I guess.”

“I think the general consensus is that he’s a criminal piece of shit. We just can’t find any proof.”

“I think I’ll be able to find something.” He tentatively picks up the menu laid out in front of him.

“Do you think you’ll make it out to Norway?”

“Me? I think Roman would shoot me.”

“You should come, after you deal with things here. Everyone could use a break.”

“I’ll try. I do really need to get out of here for a while.”

“If Roman’s giving you trouble, you can tell me, you know.”

“Oh, it isn’t anything new. I don’t know what it is with him. He has his own issues he doesn’t know how to deal with, so sometimes he projects.”

“That’s profound,” you say. “You’re right to not think anything of it. I know him well enough by now to say I don’t think he thinks before doing anything.”

You both order, and conversation comes easily to the two of you. Greg’s a wholesome guy, you think. He makes you comfortable, and you know you can trust him.

“I wanted to tell you something,” he says after a while. “I haven’t seen Connor in a bit. But last time I did see him, he was on the phone with some lawyer, talking about a lawsuit. And I’m almost 100% sure it wasn’t you, because I know your name isn’t Brad.”

You give your drink a slow stir. “Did you catch what the lawsuit was about?”

“All I heard were the words ‘negligence’ and ‘innkeepers law’.”

You press your lips together. None of this seems right. “Is it possible you can figure out the firm he was speaking with?”

“I’ll do my best. I figured you’d want to know.”

“I do. Thank you, Greg.”

Eventually, after a fight over bill(which you won), you hail a taxi and make your way back home. You kick your heels off by the door, Roman’s dress shoes haphazardly strewn in the same vicinity. You pad into the kitchen and toss your keys onto the counter, clocking Roman sat on the couch.

“Greg, huh?”

“What about him?” You pull a bottle of water from the fridge.

“Do you like him?”

“Yeah, I do. He’s respectful and I can trust him,” you say acridly.

“I respect you. A lot, actually.”

“You don’t show it. It’s not a competition, anyway. Why do you care?”

“We’re engaged.”

You roll your eyes at his childishness. It’s starting to get on your nerves. “We’re just friends, remember? Your words, not mine.” You leave the kitchen and wander into your room. You don’t think Roman’s ever slept in the bed- he’s been living on the couch. He gets up and follows you. “Even if I was into Greg- which I’m not -what’s your deal?”

“I lied to you. That morning.” You’re sitting at your desk now, and stare up at him.

“About?”

“What I remember.” He takes both your hands. “I remember everything I said. I meant it.”

You can feel your face begin to heat up. “Are you drunk?”

“Sober. I swear it.” He uses his finger to draw a cross over his heart, still gripping your hand in his.

“What’s your point here, Roman?”

“I want to try being something. I want us to try being something.”

“Are we just ignoring the fact that you threw us under the fucking bus?”

“Yes, we are. We’ll talk about that later, I promise.” He gets to his knees, resting his cheek on your thigh as he looks at you. “I want to do something right, for once. I want to do this right.”

You’re sat frozen in place. You force yourself to card a hand through his hair, pushing it from his face.

“You were on the news, once. Giving some legal advice before my father went on air for some propagandist bullshit. I thought you were so fucking hot. I mean, I still do-” He cuts himself off. “What I’m trying to say is, I like you, you’re fucking gorgeous, and while the situation we’re in is less than ideal, I want to make something out of it.” You stay silent. “You’re kind, funny, you’re brighter than the fucking sun. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, but I’m just some piece of garbage who keeps making things between us worse. Friends? I was lying, then, too. I’ll never be able to accept you as just a friend. I’ll never stop wanting you.”

“Really?” is all you can manage.

“Yes, really. And I know I’m an asshole. I’m proud of it, 90% of the time. That last 10% is when I’m with you and I feel so fucking guilty I made that precious smile of yours disappear. It eats me alive that I piss you off. That you don’t like me. But that’s all I’ve ever been capable of doing.”

“So change it. Make me like you,” you say quietly. Reluctantly, he pulls himself to his feet and instead hooks his arms under you, hoisting you up. He takes your place in your desk chair, settling you on his lap.

“You deserve lots better than me, Y/N.” Roman keeps his arms wound around you, one tight around your waist, the other across your back, anchoring you to him. “I don’t know what I was doing this morning. I get so scared of him, Y/N. It’s like he was looking into my soul.”

“If you think I deserve better,” you begin, “become better.” You let yourself lean into his chest. “As for the vote, I still think you’re an asshole.”

He sighs. “And that’s fair. Kendall ripped me a new one after you left.”

“Good.” His hand wanders idly up and down your back, gently massaging knots of tension that he can find. “Roman Roy, realizing the consequences of his actions.” You drag a finger across his jaw. “Am I dreaming?”

”If we are, I don’t want to wake up.”

“So, what now?”

“We be all lovey-dovey. I mean, we’re already engaged.”

You snort. “You can’t stop saying that.”

“Who wouldn’t, when engaged to someone who looks like you?” He gives your ass a quick pinch.

“Roman!”

“Sorry. Had to,” he says, grinning stupidly. “Jokes aside though, I want to take it slow.”

“I… Yeah. Let’s take it slow.”

“You do want this, right?” he asks quietly.

“I’ve wanted you since the minute we made eye contact.” You stifle a smile. “You’re sexy when you have a stubble. What happened to it?”

“What, I’m not sexy now?” He absentmindedly draws a hand over his smooth jaw. “I’ll grow it back for you.”

“Hey, I’m just kidding. You’re sexy now, don’t worry.” Roman grunts and moves the two of you to bed.

“What? My back hurts.” He sinks into his side of the bed. “Please don’t make me sleep on the couch again.”

“You’re always welcome here.” You sigh happily and roll out of bed.

“Where are you going?”

“To brush my teeth and get ready for bed, unlike some slob I know. No outside clothes on my bed, Roman.”

You duck the pillow he chucks at you.

As you progress through your nightly routine, eventually, he comes to stand with you at the sink. You make a face at him before returning to your business. For a bit, he just watches you, happy to just be in your presence. When he starts brushing his teeth, he hooks an arm around your waist and pulls you close.

You protest halfheartedly, and he rolls his eyes at you before spitting his toothpaste out. “Quit whining,” he tells you, giving your hip a squeeze.

“I’m building a wall between us tonight,” you threaten lightly.

“I was a rock climber as a kid.” He pokes you gently. “Now that you’ve let me into your cold, shriveled up heart, I’m not leaving.”

“You still have a lot of work to do, Roman,” you chide. “Just because you got onto your knees for the first time in your life doesn’t mean everything’s magically okay.”

You both pad back into your bedroom, crawling under the covers together. “I thought we could kiss and make up,” he says, propped up on his arm, facing you. You curl up on your side, also facing him.

“Absolutely not,” you tell him. “You’re going to sit here and explain yourself. Or you’re sleeping on the floor.”

He sighs, pulling up the blankets so that you’re both covered. “It’s like I blacked out. I was so scared, Y/N.”

“Why? He can’t do anything to you, Roman, especially now that I’m involved in all this.”

“It’s complicated,” he mutters.

”We have time,” you urge gently.

“It’s the way I grew up, I guess.” He collapses onto his back. “He’d snap over the smallest things. My entire childhood I was walking on eggshells. I don’t… It’s such a bad excuse. God, I feel horrible.” He covers his face with his hands.

You crawl over, close enough to him where you’re able to set your cheek onto his chest and still lay comfortably. You’re still facing him, and one of his hands moves to sit on your hip. “I think I was too harsh on you,” you murmur. “Don’t get me wrong, it still was a dick move, but I get it. Just promise you’ll do better, okay?”

He peels his other hand off of his face to wind it through your hair. “I promise. I promise.” You press a kiss to his chest, to which he stiffens. “Don’t,” he says quietly. “Don’t.”

Hesitantly, you pull away from him, settling on your side of the bed and facing the other way. You fall asleep without saying anything else.

You wake up to an empty bed. You thought it was going so well, too. You drag yourself out of bed and find him in the kitchen. Wordlessly, he pushes you a mug of coffee and a plate of scrambled eggs.

“I felt bad. But then I remembered I don’t know how to cook,” Roman says meekly. “I’m sorry. It’s getting too real for me.”

“What’s that mean?”

“I, uh, ‘ve never been in a serious relationship. Not with someone I like this much. I don’t… I don’t want to fuck this up, Y/N.”

You try wiping the bleariness from your face. “I don’t understand you, Rome.”

He reaches out, wiping a bit of coffee from your lip. “I hope you can learn to.”

“As long as you put in the effort, too.” You look up at him. “I don’t mean to pressure you into anything you don’t want. I just mean I want you to actually try.” You take a sip from your mug. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you haven’t exactly been… proactive the last week.”

He leans against the counter behind him. “Who’s the one who went out with another man?”

“Roman, that doesn’t have anything to do with anything.” You laugh as he jabs a hand into your side.

“I’m not going to let you forget it.”

“It’s Greg. Wholesome, kind, Greg.”

“You should’ve been out with me.”

“Take me out, then.”

He bridges the small distance between you and fits his hands into the curves of your waist. “I’ll be all over you in Norway, don’t worry.” He takes the heel of his palm and massages circles into the skin of your hip.

“We need to leave soon,” you tell him. You want to kiss him, but you know you can’t.

“I haven’t even packed,” he says lightly.

“Roman!”

“God, I’ll never get sick of hearing that.”

You drag him into the closet and roll his suitcase over to him. “Get to it.”

☾𖤓

At the airport, Roman carries all of your bags for you. He even demands to hold your purse, a cute short strapped Prada you’d treated yourself to the first big check you’d received. He holds it by the handle over his shoulder the same way one would hold a jacket. He looks silly with his sunglasses on and your purse sitting on his back. It’s endearing, and you smile softly at him.

In the car out to the private jet, you and Shiv make plans to go out shopping your first day in Norway. Willa sits cramped next to Connor, and you feel bad, so you and Shiv invite her. Kendall’s practically snoring on Roman’s shoulder. The poor guy’s been working dusk till dawn this whole ordeal. He deserves the break.

You’re glad Logan won’t be taking the same plane as the six of you. You wouldn’t be able to handle it- the paranoia, his snide comments, and hell, even just his voice would set you off.

You and Shiv settle across from each other on the plane, her feet propped up in your lap. Roman’s slumped against you, asleep, and you think he’s drooling. Kendall sits across from him, also asleep, neck pillow and sleeping mask on like the sleeping beauty he is.

You sigh contentedly.

If you close your eyes, you can pretend like the threat that is Logan Roy isn’t dangling over your heads.

If you close your eyes, you can pretend like you’re just travelling with your chosen family.

If you close your eyes, you can pretend like you’re at peace.

#turmoil #wambsgansshoelaces #roman roy #roman roy slowburn #roman roy x you #roman roy x reader #succession #succession fic #succession hbo #succession x reader #romantic drama

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goldlightsaber · 8 months

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kendall and shiv were having the 4.07 balcony fight their whole lives actually......

#kendall really said 'fine. if you won't join me i will make this impossible for you'#(with playing the 'r*pe me' song during her speech)#he really went against the council of his lawyer JUST to get back at her.....#like does he even wanna win at this point? he just needs to make his sibs hurt for not joining him. but ESPECIALLY shiv #his primary concern isn't complying with the advice of his team but being like #'oh shiv is making moves. we have to stop that immediately'#he's obsessed like a villain being obsessed with the hero #except no one is really the hero of course #it's villain on villain violence #but also he obviously knows shiv is an extension of logan #and maybe he sort of masochistally craves her betrayal #knows she'll dampen his high and that he can't stay in it anyway. so he self-sabotages via trusting shiv #anyway. ignore me having a psychoanalyzing field day here in the tags #she was going to SEND HIM....to FUCKING PRISON! (fave line to quote btw)#succession #succ rewatch #text

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moonlit-void-to-the-far-unknown · 11 months

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“I’d lay you badly but I’d lay you gladly” (Roman Roy x fem!reader)

An: I’m gonna try. Let’s see how this goes. As an asexual (demisexual panromantic) I can feel it in my asexual bones that Roman is so part of the asexual club. Like he’s panromantic for sure he will date and flirt and be with anyone who makes him feel ~wiggly~ so to speak. I think he felt it with Gerri, and felt it with Tabitha. He feels like that pull toward them. And if given the chance he probs does want to bang. Like, he just never has that talk of ‘oh if I just stop thinking and let this person who I trust more then anything know what’s going on in my brain space then it works’ like our man is just. I love him because I am him.

I’m gonna tag @romeulusroy because I heard they were having a bad day and maybe soft roman can help

He liked looking at her when she didn’t know he was, he liked the feeling she gave him. A rush inside that he’s felt so few times in his life. Roman liked her smile, the way her lips split to show her teeth, the way her nose wrinkled when she didn’t like something. He liked her. Liked her? No he was pretty sure he loved her. Well what he assumed was love, he was pretty sure he’s only ever felt the emotion a handful of times.

Once when he was a kid and found a baby duck in the backyard pond of his mothers villa, it was so small and he helped it back into the pond where it’s family was. He remembers the feeling of warmth watching the mother goose bump it’s little tail back into place. He imagined every duck he saw after was somehow that one duck growing and visiting him.

He remembers the feeling when connor had popped him on the bathroom counter and bandaged up his scraped and bleeding knee. Connor was what he assumed his friends parents were like. He liked feeling cared for. Even if it was rare.

He likes listening to her ramble about her bullshit job of being a coffee runner most days, how she wishes she could punch Karl or frank or even his dad in the face when they forget her name, even though she’s worked under Gerri for at least 2 years.

He loves waking up next to her, always before her, something in him, maybe because of military school, maybe because he always wanted to be up before his siblings to hope that his dad would let him join him at the office, or to get the best pieces of bacon or toast for breakfast. Not anymore, now it was to be able to have the few moments of staring at her. Her softened face against the pillows, her worry stripped from her forehead. The moments when he could scratch her scalp lightly with his fingers and she would just sigh in her sleep.

He loved her. He would marry her if the fear of a marriage being the prison of unhappy people. From his parents to Tom and shiv and even Kendall. Though he would push all of it away if it meant a forever of seeing her like this.

He remembers the conversation that made him fall. Hard and fast and slamming him into the cold pavement.

“I’d lay you badly but I’d lay you gladly” it was a joke, she had laughed slightly looking down at her computer typing a report or email for Gerri or Karl or whoever was yanking her around this week.

“Roman we both know neither of us would enjoy that” it stung, she was right, but it stung.

“I mean I would rock your world for like a solid 3 seconds before you realise I have zero clue what’s going on” she had looked at him, cocking her head to the side, eye brow raised

“Roman. Can I ask you something.” He was caught off guard, his own walls coming up slightly, shrugging he looked around

“Yeah what’s up” he didn’t know why he couldn’t look at her suddenly but he just couldn’t.

“Do you know what asexuality is?” Asexuality? Obviously he did, biology and science was one class he knew he passed with more then a barley passing grade.

“Like fucking ameba and shit. They fuck themselves and bam! Another single celled whatever” she laughed, he turned to her then smiling a bit more

“I mean in the biology, organisms sense yeah, but like I mean in people,” Roman shrugged again shaking his head a little

“Some new fancy label the ‘woke’ mob has made to make people like my dad and Kendall rage for no reason?” She shook her head at that

“No Roman it means you don’t really like banging. Like, you could live with out it. So to speak, you could go your whole life never caring to want it. It wouldn’t change anything. And weird bathroom door Jack off sessions aside, it means your just not that into the whole sex thing” he felt his face flush at her mention of his brief weird relationship with Gerri. He simply looked at her

“I mean sex is…super cool….I love fucking, all night, we could do it right now, and it would be…explosive” he knew she could hear through his wavered tone

“Roman, do you know why I haven’t even pushed having sex?”

“I don’t know your weird and religious upbringing scared you for life with trauma?”

“Good guess but no…I’m asexual. Like, sex is just, a thing, I don’t care if we have it, or not, we could never and I would be 1000% okay with that. I don’t need you to bang me, how ever satisfying or not it would be, because I just, don’t need it.”

Roman stared at her then, his brain buzzing, heart slamming in his chest, he assumed like grace and Tabitha, one day you would clamber for him to attempt the unsuccessful routine of making out, hand stuff above his pants, a seemingly awkward game of red light green light before both of you gave up and you walked off to finish yourself in his bathroom.

“Roman, i haven’t brought it up, because if we never have sex ever, I wouldn’t care. It wouldn’t matter.”

He wanted to scream, and cry and hug her. He didn’t know why but he did. He simply stood up, walked over to her, yanked her up and kissed her. His hands holding her cheeks, hoping she understood what he meant in it.

When he pulled away she smiled at him nodding

“One day we may, who knows, but one thing is for sure. We’ll both lay each other badly”

“But gladly?”

“Yeah, but gladly”

#roman roy x reader #roman roy succession #Roman Roy #succession #kieran culkin #roman succession #succession HBO #Kendall Roy #Connor Roy #shiv Roy

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gregoftom · 1 year

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“do you have all the support that you need [for sweden]?”

#tomgreg #''i'm not okay'' wig tom :))))#man what can i even say about this part like literally what can i say #it feels less like he leans to greg when something is wrong with shiv and more like he leans to greg when he's fucking terrified #why would someone like greg EVER make you feel safe in a business world. unless you were enamoured with him.#unless you felt like you were on top of the world with him. invincible. unstoppable. unless you TRUSTED him with your life.#unless it wasn't about business at all. or at least not completely.#idk idk. you could say he couldn't exactly call shiv bc of the state she was in and yeah you could say he needed to cover his ass.#true. that's all true. but i think that regardless of that. it's important to remember greg asked if tom wanted him there earlier #and tom denied it but in actuality he really fucking did need him.#he could never predict he'd lose his big connection; that logan would die. of course not. he could never predict he'd suddenly #become unsafe and the rug pulled out from under him. but if he could you KNOW who the fuck he'd take with him.#it's also important to remember that it's only to shiv and greg that he ever admits that he's not okay/hurt. that he ever lets down the wall #greg is not amazing with his words but i think to hear his voice was enough to comfort tom a bit. and when he made the joke #greg calmed him down. he didn't even chide tom for making a joke about greg looking like a suspect. he was too focused on #listening to tom and making sure he got it all.#they're sOOooo. ughh #sigh. sigh. sigh. sigh. SIgh #sorry for the long ass cap posts but like. sometimes you Gotta cap it and not do a video like this Deserves caps

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tomwambsmilk · 7 months

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tomshiv tailgate party fight is my roman empire in that I think about it multiple times a week AT LEAST. anyways new thought today is that I'm obsessed with the choice to have shiv use "you're servile" as an insult because it's one of those writing choices that manages to reveal multitudes in only two words. the idea that serving others is inherently a character flaw, it's a bad thing, it's something to be ashamed of is very telling. and look, I don't think you should be a doormat but I DO think there are times when putting yourself at the service of others is a good thing. seeing that someone in your family or your partner or your friend has a need and filling it without asking - even if it inconveniences you - tends to strengthen relationships. on the other hand, however, if only one person is doing this, if there's no mutual reciprocity, that can eat away at the relationship over time; likewise if no one is doing this, and everyone is only looking out for themselves, it's difficult to ever get to a place of mutual trust.

so for shiv to consider 'you're servile' an unambiguous insult doesn't just tell us about her own unwillingness to look out for the interests of others - it also strongly suggests that in her familial relationships, no one has ever been looking out for her interests. no one in her family has ever been willing to inconvenience themselves to meet her needs, because it would be a weakness to do so. it's another piece of the paradox where logan feels that any man who would be willing to put shiv's interests before her own 'isn't good enough' for her. and so she ends up with tom, who is certainly far from selfless, but still seems to have a natural inclination to 'follow the boss man', to 'walk a couple steps behind', to be 'a humble servant', because those inclinations mean he likely will be looking out for her interests to some extent. and yet at the same time she can't possibly respect him for that - and she also has a hard time believing that there is anything selfless in his actions, because in her experience people are not sefless, so she can't ever bring herself to believe that he ISN'T just 'fucking her for her DNA'. we as an audience can debate whether or not that's true, but on some level it doesn't matter, because there is nothing tom could ever do to prove to her that his love is not self-serving.

and so they end up trapped in an inescapable cycle where if he becomes less servile, she no longer trusts him and her suspicions are confirmed, but if he does put her interests before his, she will never accept that he's motivated by love. shiv can never experience what it's like to be loved selflessly because if someone did love her selflessly she would still suspect their motives. tom's only choices are to try to love shiv selflessly and forever remain the subject of her suspicion and scorn, or to betray her interests for his own and become the target of her pain and grief and anger. and so the poison drips through

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3d-wifey · 5 months

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What are those WIPs looking like? c'mon pleaseeee 😩😩😩😩give us a list. ur my favorite writer and I read everything I write, I wanna know what I have to look forward to (if you don't want to that's totally okay)

December Wip List

This took me a fucking minute 😭😭 please tell me if any of you wanna be tagged for any of the following.

In-progress series (original)

And They��d Find Us a Week (Hunger Games) - Finnick x implied black!Reader

↳ You run cold, you always have, it’s just another thing to love as far as Finnick is concerned. He himself emits heat like a furnace on the best of days. He remembers cold hands touching his heated skin, cold toes shocking the skin of his legs whenever you lay together. But now, now Finnick feels nothing but a hissing heat as your mouths press together. Heat like a hot knife cutting into a block of ice, like a blazing star consuming him in a ball of fire, only to sizzle into a warm embrace. He melts into you, trusting that you’ll sculpt him back together with your glacial grip.

After everything you and Finnick have gone through together, it only makes sense that you’ve grown a little attached.

↳Status: Ongoing; posted

The Female of the species (The Boys) - Various/Homelander x black!supe!Reader

↳ “So what? I was grown in a lab like a, like a—fucking Chia Pet?” You can feel the air around you become charged, molecules flying by your ears at top speed. Ashley rushes to catch her papers that she stupidly left loose. “Calm yourself.” Edgar drones and his lack of reaction to you turning the room into a small cyclone only aggravates you further.

Both a woman who’s used to getting whatever she wants and a man who’s never heard no, created in a lab. What a horrible pair you two will make. (basically ‘I can’t fix him. I can fuck him though, maybe that’ll help.’ Says woman that is worse.)

↳ Status: Ongoing; not posted

All On His Mouth Like Liquor (Succession) - black!Reader x Various [Shiv, Tom, Greg?, Kendall, Roman?, Menkin, Matsston, Stewy]

↳ "Mmm. You know, I've got a pretty cushy job in the White House lined up. I might be able to get you on my team." Jeryd places a hand on the counter next to your hip, leaning into your space, but you ignore him in favor of fixing your smeared lipstick. "I'm not looking to be anyone's Monica Lewinski." “You think pretty highly of yourself." You pause and glance down at yourself. At the way your blouse is just on the right side of too tight. The way leaving the top two buttons undone gives anyone interested a glimpse of your necklace dipping between your cleavage. You turn to the side and look in the mirror at the way your skirt clings onto your ass and thighs, curves modestly on display. You look back at him with an eyebrow raised. "Point." He concedes, eyes still looking you over.

As her assistant, it’s quite literally your job to be a Shiv defender.

↳ Status: Ongoing; not posted

Please Don’t Go (I’ll Eat You Whole) (Scream) - Yandere!Billy x Reader x Yandere!Stu

↳"Do you…find me…attractive?" He drawls, words drawn out like you're an exceptionally stupid child. And, honestly, you're starting to wonder if you're suffering from brain damage. This is insane. Seriously, how many unhinged things can happen to one person in 48 hours? "I, uh, I mean,” you shrug, staring over his shoulder at your wall, "yeah. But, Billy, a lot of people do, which is what I was trying to say—" "There's a difference between people and you." He sits up, leaning towards you. "Why didn't you tell me?" "Billy, it's really not that big of a deal." You sigh, moving to get up—unwilling to let yourself be embarrassed. But he stops you, grabbing your hand, and you realize in a panic that he isn't going to let this go. "It is to me." He pulls you back on the bed closer than you were before, thighs brushing together. "What would have happened if I did?" You roll your eyes. Why are you humoring this? "Well, I might have had a girlfriend who didn't find me disgusting." “I don’t…I…” You shake your head in disbelief, breath catching in your chest before rushing out a weary sigh. “How the hell am I supposed to respond to that, Billy? Wh–what am I supposed to do with that?”

When you love someone the way Billy and Stu love you, well, what’s a little manipulation between friends?

↳ Status: Ongoing; not posted

Once More to See You (Bridgerton) - Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

↳ Anthony is not one for flowery musings. He isn’t a poet, nor does he spend his time admiring the arts or waxing poetics about beauty and such. No, he leaves that sort of thing to his brother. But as you peer up at him with expectant eyes, the lights of the chandeliers painting you in a soft yellow, he can understand why a war was waged over Helen of Troy.

You’ve finally come home from France and you’re a woman grown—far too old to entertain the silly musings you had as a girl. You’ve been presented to higher society and your search for a suitable husband has just begun, but Anthony isn’t willing to be so easily forgotten.

↳ Status: Ongoing; posted

You Set My Soul Alight (House of the Dragon) - Yandere!Daemon Targaryen x Reader

↳ He presents the wreath to you and you have no choice but to take it. There is a pause before hesitant cheers erupt around you, building in confidence until the entire stadium is roaring. Prince Daemon is the champion and has crowned you the Queen of Love and Beauty, dedicating his victory to you—just like he said he wouldn’t. He smirks up at you, his plan unfolding before your eyes. It is the beginning of the end.

Perhaps it would have been easier on everyone if you had just told Daemon you were being betrothed before your father publically announced it.

↳ Status: Ongoing; not posted

She’s My Collar (JJK) - Geto x Reader x Gojo

↳ Oh, you don’t hate them. Hate would require a level of acknowledgment that you don’t bestow upon the two boys. You’d have to notice them to hate them, you’d have to care and you’re indifferent at most. No, it’s much more simple than that. Gojo and Geto just aren’t on your radar.

Being the first of your clan in centuries to join the world of Jujutsu sorcerers, specifically Tokyo Jujutsu Acadamy, is sure to make waves. And with a cursed technique like yours, it’s no wonder the Strongest have taken an interest in you. If only it was mutual.

↳ Status: Ongoing; not posted

Imagine Being Loved By Me (Star Wars) - Anakin x Reader x Obi-Wan

↳"I can train her." All eyes look to Master Skywalker's hologram. He sits reclined in his chair—or what you presume is a chair—as if he's discussing the weather and not taking you on as an apprentice. "No." Windu turns him down immediately and you frown, just as against the idea as he is. You're sure many other Padawans would jump at the notion of being trained by Anakin Skywalker, but it's completely unnecessary. "In fact, you are the last person that should train her."

As a Senior Padawan, nothing can keep you from doing your part in the war, not even the untimely death of your Master. Yoda asking Obi-Wan to take you under his tutelage is surprising. Almost as surprising as Anakin volunteering to do it himself.

↳ Status: Ongoing; not posted

Limerence (The Sandman) - Morpheus x major arcana nightmare!Reader x Corinthian

↳ You watch as Adam and Eve run hand in hand, far from the Garden Of Eden. Steps hurried, frantic as if worried God would change his mind and bring them back—lock them away in that pretty cage again. But they are smiling. There's not an ounce of regret within either of them. You search and find that their only desire is to be free, together. Love is such a strange thing, you think from your spot between Dream and the Corinthian.

If you and Corinthian are two stars orbiting each other, then Dream is the black hole that birthed you—drawing you both closer and closer while tearing you apart. One day, he will swallow you both whole, and you will say thank you.

↳ Status: Ongoing; not posted

In progress sequels

Show em Who I Belong to pt.2 - Dom!Johnny Cage

Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You, Baby pt.2 - Manipulative/toxic!Erwin Smith

One-shots

Damon, Klaus, Elijah x reincarnated!Reader (TVD/TO) - 1989 is the worst year of your life simply because it's the year you met Damon and, consequently, the year you were reborn for the last time. (might be a series)

Nick x Reader x Jacob (The Quarry) - A game of truth or dare has led to the last night of Summer going to complete and total shit. Having been bitten by some kind of beast and feeling like you're going to literally burst out of your skin, the only upside is being stuck between two hot guys who are desperately in love with you. It could be worse. At least you weren’t the only one bitten.

Remus Lupin (Harry Potter) x Reader - You and Remus are quite competitive, always going head-to-head in your classes. It’s commonplace to compete for the highest marks. What isn’t commonplace, is the sabotage in the form of Remus’s wandering hands.

Sirius Black (Harry Potter) x Hufflepuff!Reader - Sirius can’t help but feel like he’s the only person in the entire school that you hate. Probably because he is.

James Potter (Harry Potter) x Hufflepuff Quidditch captain!Reader - James Potter has been your sworn nemesis since your first year and now that you’re both captains of your respective teams, that rivalry has only grown. Now, if only Potter would get the memo.

Poly!Marauders x Reader (Harry Potter) - Honestly, in retrospect, you don’t know how you thought this would end without incredible irritation on your part. You thought the four of you had outgrown such childishness, that being the only reason you even invited them to the fundraising event. Had you known it would end like this, you would have declined the offer to volunteer altogether.

Johnny Cage x Reader (MK1) - Johnny is too needy for you to wait until the awards show is over. Besides, he’s been so good for you, hasn’t he? Doesn’t that deserve positive reinforcement? You wouldn’t want him to act out, would you?

Himbo!Steve Harrington x bimbo!Reader (Stranger Things) - Steve was smarter than you, but only slightly. Not smart enough that he would ever hold it over you, but smart enough to know that the two of you shouldn't have been doing this in such a public place.

College loser!Mike x mean popular!Reader (FNAF) - “I promise I’ll be good, just…” “Use my thigh.” “What if I just leave you here, wet and needy.” “Clean my fingers, this is your mess.”

Manipulative proffessor!Erwin Smith x TA!Reader (AOT) - Erwin has a soft spot for you, his new TA.

Arthur Morgan x Photographer!Reader (RDR2) - "Sure." He takes a cursory look around at the towering trees before focusing his gaze back on you. His wide-brim hat shades eyes so blue that you’re certain the sky itself is teeming with envy.

Johnny Silverhand x Musician!Reader (Cyberpunk 2077) - It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to collaborate with Johnny Silverhand. If only he knew how to keep his mouth in check.

Luke, Han, Leia x Zeltron!Reader (Star Wars) - You’re not a Jedi. You don't know the Jedi code and you’re probably as Force sensitive as a particularly dedicated brick. Despite that, you’re pretty sure the Force isn’t supposed to be used like this.

Sebastian X Demon!Reader x Claude (Black Butler) - Your mistress is interested in doing business with Ciel Phantomhive. Who would have thought he had a demon on his payroll? (might be a series)

NSFW Alphabets

Star (The Lost Boys) - Adding on to that poly Lost Boys Alphabet

Anakin

Obi-Wan

Negan

Damon Salvatore

Headcanons/drabbles

Earthrealm MK1 boys compete for Goddess!Reader’s attention

Paul (lost boys) eating you out while you’re both high

Dark/yandere Luke Skywalker NSFW headcanons

Yandere Targaryen men (Aegon i, Maegor, Aegon ii, Aemond, Daemon) x Reader - Being the pregnant wife of a close friend

Yandere Targaryen men x Reader - Finding out you’re being married off

More flirty intros (MK1 and MK11)

Dead By Daylight Killers x Obsession!Reader

Eren Jaeger with a breeding kink

Yandere/dark president Loki x Ironman variant!Reader

Possible ideas (I’ll take prompts on these/discuss these)

➔Astarion (BG3) x Reader :

Smut for sure

Eat Your Young - Astarion did try to stick to the plan, truly, he did. Some seduction here, a few implications there. It should have been enough to get him into your bedroll alongside your heart. It would have worked on quite literally anyone else, but you’re just so Gods damned oblivious! (might become a series)

➔John Snow (GOT) x Reader

➔Michael Myers x nurse!Reader (Halloween)

➔Veronica x Reader x JD (Heathers)

➔Sajanus Plinth x Capitol!Reader (Hunger Games)

➔Poly!Lost Boys x Reader (The Lost Boys) - How you start dating

➔Bigby Wolf x fable!Reader (The Wolf Among Us)

➔Jerry Dandridge x black vampire!Reader (Fright Night) - You and Jerry have more in common than any of your other neighbors could possibly imagine. (might become a series)

➔Mischa x Reader (Ride the Cyclone) - You like to think you and Mischa are pretty close, you’d go as far as to call him your best friend. So why is it that you haven’t so much as seen a picture of this ‘Talia’?

➔Dennis Reynolds x Reader (IASIP) - Dennis is used to doing the chasing, so much so that he doesn’t even realize when he’s on the receiving end of his own system.

➔Will Graham x killer!Reader x Hannibal (Hannibal)

➔Rick Grimes x Reader (TWD)

➔Derek Hale x Reader (Teen Wolf)

➔Isaac Lahey x Reader (Teen Wolf)

➔Demon!Dean Winchester x Reader (Supernatural)

➔Castiel x angel!Reader (Supernatural)

➔Abed Nadir x Reader (Community)

➔Carlisle Cullen x Reader (Twilight)

➔Spike x Vampire!Reader (Buffy)

➔Kakashi x ex ambu!Reader x Tenzo (Naruto)

➔Sangwoo? X Horrible!Reader (Killing Stalking)

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