ON HIATUS

Just call me Seal/20s/Can I offer you a nice self-insert in this trying time?/Masterlist/REQUESTS CLOSED

[seal-writes-stuff]

Hi everyone! A few things:

Requests are CLOSED for now. For future reference, the only rule is no NSFW requests, please.

Masterlist is here.

I'll tag any smut I reblog with "#nahsfw" and I'll warn about any implied smut in my works. Please skip/block the tag if you're under 18.

Thanks for taking your time to read this, enjoy your stay!

[rosewritingprompts]

30 Winter Themed Prompts

this is for the lovely @wodkapudding I hope you enjoy!

"I think you have hypothermia."

Icicles hanging from the eaves

"Have you ever seen snow before?"

Hearing how their family talks to them

"Please stay."

Curling up by a fire

"I don't want you to meet my family."

Attempting to make their favorite food

"I didn't know where else to go."

Keeping them awake while driving

"It's still snowing."

Holding their shaking hands

"I didn't mean it like that."

"Don't leave, not yet."

Startled deer in a snowy forest

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Finding something they were hiding

"We don't have to stay long."

Returning to a place you no longer recognize

"You shouldn't be alone."

A phone call they don't want to make

"Please don't say that."

Broken ice on a lake

"The car won't start."

Bringing a stray inside

"It doesn't have to be perfect."

Holding their hand under a table

"You've changed."

A full day of darkness

"I don't think this is going to work."

[seal-writes-stuff]

hiya! would you ever consider doing any more leo dicaprio characters alphabets? thanks!

Hey! Sorry, I only write for Rick. If you feel like sending any requests for him feel free tho

[seal-writes-stuff]

Hi!!! Sorry for disappearing for a year, work tried to bring me down but I'm stronger. Gonna answer some asks and get right back to writing

If you've sent me a request then I probably saw it and it's a work in progress. Don't hesitate to send it again though, your messages make my day

Also @ Dani anon: I saw your asks and they're so sweet!!! You're still my shining star, I live in shame🫣

Not gonna make any promises, just hoping for the best lmao. Thanks for your attention, love u all xoxo

[seal-writes-stuff]

home

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: F!Reader, one mention of drug use, no plot just vibes

Summary: You’re waiting for your husband to come home.

A/N: Hi everyone! I’m still on my perpetual lmao Doc Sportello bullshit, so here’s a little thing that’s been on my mind for a while. Hope you enjoy!

He’s still not home.

You take a wistful look out of the window for what feels like a hundredth time and sigh. There aren’t many people left outside: someone’s still trying to take the last dive of the day at the beach, a couple of lovers still can’t find it in themselves to part for the night, but that’s about it.

The sun’s slowly disappearing in sea: you see it every day and it’s beautiful all the same. It always reminds you of the glossy postcards you keep sending to your parents every once in a while. Still, those cards never do the view justice, you think.

His car is nowhere in sight.

You try to divert your attention back to the stir fry you’re trying to make, but your thoughts persist. All in all, you aren’t even upset – it’s not the first time and certainly won’t be the last. Before you got together, Doc would always disappear for days or even weeks at a time, only to show up again, sweet as ever. More often than you’d like to admit, you used to wonder if there would ever come a day when he’d be gone for good, leaving you behind. Doc assured you that he’d always find a way back to you, no matter what happens.

And he did. If anything, Doc’s always been great at keeping his promises.

You add another pinch of salt, mixing the vegetables together. All of these doubts feel so far away now. You can’t imagine doubting him now, not even a little bit. But you can’t imagine being away for so long again too. Even a few extra hours seem endless these days; you have no idea how you did it before, and frankly, you don’t want to find out.

Deep in your thoughts, you don’t notice the car pulling up and you don’t hear the door opening a few minutes later. You only snap out of it when you feel Doc pull you in a warm hug from behind.

“Hey there,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. You squirm at the way his sideburns tickle your skin.

“Hey,” you smile without looking away from the pan. “Careful, my husband’s gonna be home any moment now.”

“Hmm, and what he’s gonna do?”

“Oh, you know, he’s a P.I. He’s got connections. I wouldn’t mess with him.”

That’s the last straw; the act finally breaks. You start giggling and Doc joins you, punctuating his words with more gentle kisses.

“I’ve really missed you today.”

“Me too,” you run your fingertips up and down his forearm before bringing his hand to your mouth. “How’s work?”

“Eh, same old. You know how it is.”

“Oh man, do I. Hey, honey, I’ve blacked out in a brothel the other day – all strictly business, of course - so now I’m a murder suspect. If Bigfoot comes looking tell him I’m dead. Love you!”

“That was one time!”

“I rest my case.”

You chuckle, yet the thought lingers on your mind for just a moment longer. Enough time has passed for the story to become an inside joke, something you can laugh about together, yet living through it was terrifying. You’ve never managed to get many details out of Doc on the matter, but you remember him coming to you all but scarred from the experience. You remember getting high together the night after everything was over, as you mumbled shapeless love confessions and he stared at the ceiling blankly, playing with your hair.

You were dating for a while by this point. You were engaged a week later.

“Here,” you pick up a piece of bell pepper with a spatula and bring it to his mouth. “Careful, it’s hot.”

“You know what else is ho-”

“Don’t you fucking dare. Oh, by the way, if you say it’s great when it’s not I’m going to kill you. Just saying.”

“Alright, alright,” he raises his hands in surrender, taking a bite. “Mhm. I’d add some chili flakes.”

“That’s more like it,” you press a kiss to Doc’s cheek before turning back to the stove. “It’s almost ready. Set the table, will ya?”

“On it.”

He squeezes you for one last time before letting go. You’re wrapping up the cooking, reveling in comfortable silence, broken only by the clacking of the plates. Everything is mundane and everything is magical – everything’s just the way you’ve always wanted it to be.

You’re brought back to reality by the sound of Doc’s voice.

“How was your day? Any news?”

“Got a new client today.”

“Oh, that’s nice.”

“In a way. He’s a complete fucking asshole, keeps telling ‘this young lady’ how to do my job. I mean, man, you wanted me to do this, no?”

“Want me to beat him up?”

“You beat people up now?” you throw him a glance over your shoulder and smile. “Who are you and what have you done to my husband?”

“I make exceptions, you know.”

“Pfft. Tempting, but no. We’ll wait ‘till he pays in full and then I’ll beat him up myself,” you turn off the stove in a swift motion. “Dinner’s ready. Eat up.”

You turn around, expecting him to grab a plate, but he doesn’t. Instead, Doc leans closer, taking your face in his hands. You laugh, turning your face just enough to kiss the heel of his palm.

“What?”

“Just lookin’,” Doc brushes his thumb over your lips. “You’re so beautiful.”

Your fingers slowly ghost up his arms until your hands lock behind his neck. You really wish you could capture this moment – the entirety of it. The fresh, salty air, chill in the evening. The last rays of the sunset, warm on your skin. The way Doc looks at you.

The way nobody has ever looked at you.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you press a little kiss to the tip of his nose, laughing as he scrunches his face. “I love you, do you know that?”

“I mean, I’ve had my suspicions for a while, but-”

“Oh my God,” you roll your eyes with a groan, burying your face in the crook of his neck, lost in his scent for a second. “I take it back. You’re insufferable.”

“And you still married me.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. A lapse in judgment.”

“Ouch.”

“Didn’t say I regret it,” you rest your chin on his shoulder with a content sigh. “Besides, I thought you didn’t care much about the... How'd you call it, squalid matrimonials?”

“Aww, you remembered.”

“He's avoiding the question, Your Honor.”

“You know what I’m going to say,” his voice is soft and gravely, enveloping you like a warm ocean wave. “I love you too. I’d have squalid matrimonial with you all day.”

“That’s all I’m asking for.”

He doesn’t respond. Instead, Doc pulls you in a deep, sweet kiss, and you happily oblige – forgetting the dinner, forgetting all of your troubles, and, if only for a moment, forgetting about the outside world.

Your husband is home, and finally, so are you.

[seal-writes-stuff]

is

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: graphic violence, kidnapping, one mention of frequent hospital visits, vague allusions to The Victory Project and everything that comes with it, Trauma

Summary: Alice Warren is a lot of things and you happen to love every single one. After she mysteriously disappears one day, it’s the only thing that keeps your rage and fear laser-focused.

A/N: Dear followers, today I offer you headcanons that nobody requested with a weird poetry vibe. Tomorrow? Who knows. Also I might’ve taken some liberties with how the simulation works, but hey. Hope you enjoy!

Alice is compassionate.

The first time you meet her, you aren’t looking for it – you aren’t looking for anything at all. Weeks after weeks of hospital visits have exhausted you completely, worn you down to the bone. You’re sitting in a cheap plastic chair in a long, bright corridor, not a single thought in your head; all you want is just to curl up in your bed and sleep for fifty years straight. Maybe you’d still wake up tired.

That’s when you hear her sweet, concerned voice, asking you if you’re okay.

You’d assume a surgeon working a long shift wouldn’t be the one to chat, but surprisingly, you’d be wrong. She really wants to know if something’s the matter. People rarely come here for some happy reasons, she tells you. Whatever you’re feeling, it’s okay.

You cry in her arms for what feels like hours – in the arms of a complete stranger who keeps reassuring you, never once noticing how you stain her work clothes with tears.

Alice is a good friend.

It’s been a few months. You can’t remember the time when she wasn’t your friend, can’t imagine a life that wouldn’t include her. You meet as often as you can, talking about nothing and everything, sharing the things you wouldn’t share with anyone else. It’s like you’re on the same wavelength all the time; you simply get each other.

You keep reminding Alice that she doesn’t have to see you every other day. After all, it’s hard to imagine a job more demanding than hers – you’d understand. And every time Alice tells you that it’s fine. That she loves what she does and she loves spending time with you.

“I’d go crazy sitting at home all day,” she laughs.

Alice is loveable.

You collect the moments you share like you’d collect rare flowers, saving them between the book pages for later. Alice pulling you in a dance in her living room, giggling as you end it with a twirl. Alice showing you her new sundress, asking for your opinion about it with casual intimacy. Alice clinking glasses with you, stars in her eyes.

You think your friend is beautiful. You don’t allow your thoughts to go further than that.

Alice is valuable.

The last time you see her, Alice is venting about her boyfriend – all valid things, you must say, you’d be venting too. Your advice to dump him becomes less and less humorous every time you repeat it. Anyone can fall on hard times - not everyone turns into an entitled leech over that. She tells you it’s okay. Deep down he’s a really good guy, and fights happen. That’s just a part of life.

You think that “deep down” must be quite deep indeed, but you don’t voice it. She clearly loves him, and if she chooses to give him that love then he must deserve it on some level. Either way, it’s not for you to decide.

That night, Alice is wearing her favorite skirt and a big striped sweater. A description burned into your mind as you have to repeat it over and over later.

Alice is gone.

It happens overnight – nobody knows where she went and nobody knows what might’ve happened.

No, she didn’t have any enemies.

No, she wasn’t acting any differently than she normally would.

No. Yes. No. Thank you, that means a lot.

You put up posters with her face every day and cry yourself to sleep every night.

Her boyfriend is standoffish. He’s never liked you and sees no need to pretend otherwise now. You’ve always hated him, didn’t you? You never believed in him. All you wanted is to see them, true star-crossed lovers, apart.

Time and time again, you try to mend that bridge just so you can have the hope of ever finding your friend, but her boyfriend isn’t having any of that. You chalk it up to his wounded pride at first, never denying him the right to resent you. Yet something bothers you about it nevertheless.

Something is off. That’s all you can say and that’s all that you really need

Alice is nearby.

It takes time. It takes effort. It takes an ungodly amount of unimaginably awful podcasts, but you finally get the full picture. It’s terrifying, it’s impossible and it doesn’t make any sense, but it’s the only option.

After a few days of rehearsing the whole things in your head, you follow Jack – you’ve finally managed to learn his name – to what used to be his and Alice’s shared apartment. For someone trying to conceal a brand new human right violation, this man is incredibly careless. He’s so assured in his invincibility that he doesn’t even bother with varying his routes.

You know what you’re doing is illegal, but it doesn’t matter at this point. Doubt is a luxury you can’t afford, not anymore. The law has failed Alice and her boyfriend has failed her too; you aren’t about to do the same.

The door has three locks, yet they’re so shitty that you manage to bypass them all with a few tweaks here and there – you’re lucky today. Jack must’ve gotten sloppier with time. Or maybe he never cared in the first place. Who knows.

Doesn’t matter.

You pass through the hallway and enter the bedroom.

Alice

is

right

there.

It’s a first time you’re seeing the device in action and, for a moment, you forget how to breathe. Gasping, you will yourself to look away from her, from what this despicable stain on humanity has done to her, and stare at Jack instead. He hasn’t entered the simulation yet, but he’s about to do it.

For just a moment, he stares back with fear and confusion in his eyes, and that gives you more than enough time to lunge for his throat.

You fly into a blind rage – one that you’ve never felt before and will never feel after. He tries to fight back, tries to crawl away, tries to plead, cry, scream; you can’t hear any of that. It’s all just noise, buzz in the air. You tear into his flesh with your bare hands, pulling it apart like a rabid animal. His hair is a perfect length to be wrapped around your fist.

You drive him face-first into the floor a few times before his body goes limp. You then do it some more.

You haven’t fought anyone since kindergarten.

You sit up and press your back to the bed frame, gasping for air. Your face burns and you can taste the metal – he must’ve landed some blows. Could be better, could be worse. You’ll live.

Alice.

With the shaking hands, you – gently, ever so gently – you take off her bounds and tie Jack up, just for good measure. It’s okay. They aren’t a part of the device anyway, not really. Those things that keep her eyes open, however, sure are.

What would happen if you just took them off? Would it hurt Alice? Would she survive? Would it cause some type of horrible, irreparable damage to her you can’t even imagine right now? You don’t know. Frank was careful to keep the details away from the general public – the only thing he, unfortunately, was kind of right about. His followers never questioned the inner workings of it all either.

So no way out but through.

Without hesitation, you put the second pair of these nightmarish goggles on, you stare at the changing pattern on the ceiling, you feel your mind go numb. It suddenly occurs to you that, as much as you’ve planned ahead, you really have no idea what you’re doing right now. You aren’t even sure if you’ll keep your memories or come out of this alive.

But there’s no point in wondering. Knowing the answers wouldn’t change anything. You’d try to save her anyway.

“Alice!”

She stands in the middle of a little-too-clean vintage living room, eyes wide, staring at you in numb horror. You realize that you must still be covered in blood – or maybe you aren’t, you’re so agitated that there’s no way to tell. Maybe you look perfectly normal right now. Maybe she’s simply scared of you because you’re a stranger in her perfect house, a stranger who snatched her perfect husband away.

You’ve thought that your tears have dried out completely months ago. For the first time tonight, you’re proven wrong.

“Do you… Remember me?” you ask in a shaking voice, stepping closer carefully. Alice is frozen in place, a weirdly vacant expression on her face. “Do you remember me at all?”

No response. You have no way of knowing what she’s thinking about, but at least she’s there. You’re grasping at straws, trying to come up with something, anything to say. Something that would convince her to let you help.

“Let’s get out of there. Please,” you plead. “If- When we get out of there, you won’t have to speak to me ever again. But please, let’s just-”

You don’t get to finish. Alice wraps you in a tight hug and you start sobbing into the crook her neck.

In a minute you’ll find out that Alice knows a way out – she’s had her own investigation while you had yours. In two minutes you’ll find out that at least one other woman here knows what’s really going on, always did. In five, you’ll leave this awful place behind, chased by a squad of things you aren’t sure are even human.

But right now, this very moment, is just for the two of you.

Alice is safe.

Time crawls at a snail’s pace, but after one day inevitably comes another. Both of you start therapy. Jack gets arrested – for some miraculous reason, you don’t kill him that night after all. The Victory Project comes under investigation; the details are kept under wraps, partly for “the benefit of the survivors’ mental and physical well-being”. You’re sure as hell there isn’t a thing in the world that can damage your mental and physical well-being even further, but there’s nothing left in you to fight this decision. This isn’t even an argument. It’s better to let it go.

You spend every night with Alice and she spends every night with you. You pour your hearts out to each other like never before. In a way, your friendship has changed fundamentally; in a much deeper way, however, it stayed the same. You cook Alice dinner when she comes home after a long day and she lets you sleep in on weekends. For a long time after the whole thing is over, she resents anything resembling housework. You can’t hold it against her.

One night, when you’re watching some endless TV-show - you’ve carefully curated your watchlist to avoid anything 50s-themed - Alice asks you point-blank if you regret it. The violence, the pain, the fear. If you regret hearing about him so much before everything went down, hearing Alice defend him as he was planning to take her life away.

Of course you know the answer. You’ve always known it: no, you don’t regret it at all. You’d go through it all a hundred more times if it meant setting her free. You’d search for months and years and decades if it meant finding her in the end. You’d beat this pathetic excuse of a man again and again, until there was nothing left of him anymore, if it meant letting her choose her own path.

And it’s not her fault that a person she gave all her love to never appreciated it. That’s on him. And Alice deserves none of his shame.

“But what if I left you?” she whispers, some unspoken urgency coloring her tone. “After… Then what?”

You look at Alice and she looks at you, her face illuminated by the TV. There’s a familiar, heartbreaking fear in her eyes that she can’t quite shake; worst of all, a completely understandable fear. You take her hands in yours.

“I’ve meant every word,” you whisper, brushing her knuckles with your thumb. “If we never spoke again, I wouldn’t do anything differently. I mean, I’d live a way sadder life, but that would be my problem.”

Just as the last word leaves your mouth, she kisses you as a promise to stay, to commit to you freely and without force. And you kiss her back, fervently, with endless yearning – as a promise to always find her, to always be there. To love and be loved generously, to love on purpose and to stay by choice.

And after what feels like forever, finally, Alice is home.

[seal-writes-stuff]

Dating Headcanons – Joe (“YWNRH”)

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: mentions of abuse, mental health struggles (PTSD)

Summary: All in the title

A/N: Hey guys! Wanted to write some general headcanons while I’m working on a longer fic. Because God, I love Joe so much it’s crazy, he deserves everything. Hope you enjoy!

Your relationship starts out slowly, and I mean slowly. Truth is, Joe knew that he'd be in love with you since the moment you've met and it terrifies him. For the longest time, it's been one of Joe's many deep-seated beliefs that he's completely unlovable. Or that even if he somehow isn't, that it's too much of a liability to love him anyway. It's always on his mind: suffocating, ever present.

He can't save anybody. He can't stop anybody from being hurt. Worse, he can't even let anyone in, can't share this burden that's been there all his life - it's something he has to carry on his own.

So when you get into the picture, Joe gets... Cautious. You're such a warm presence in his life, so lovely, so... Fragile. What if something happened to you? What if something happened to you because of him? Joe would never be able to forgive himself, so he keeps his distance at first. He's quiet and reserved, he doesn't talk much, he barely touches you when you go out at first; it gets to the point where you start to question if he even likes you. But at the end of the day you know he does, because Joe always comes back to you no matter what, over and over again.

You stay. You stay right there with him, and when Joe finally confesses to all of the feelings that are eating at him, you're devastated and horrified - but you still stay. You tell him how you're okay with that, how the pain would be worth it if it meant knowing him. It's the kind of strong, healthy love Joe isn't used to, and that's exactly what makes him realize he wants to be by your side, always.

Joe rarely talks about his past, or his present, for that matter – he opens up very slowly. Deep down, although he has trouble verbalizing it, he still thinks that he somehow deserved all of the abuse and tragedy that happened in his life. He also has a vague understanding of how irrational it is, how horrifying it would sound said out loud, so he keeps quiet. You're ready to listen no matter how much or little he reveals; you always, always insist that he's a good person and none of it was his fault. Joe tries his hardest to believe it.

It takes lot of time, trust and deep late night conversations before Joe tells you what he does for a living. He knows how much you love him and that’s exactly what makes him hold back: the thought of you getting scared or seeing him differently once you know the truth. But, despite every reason he can think of, you simply don’t. You’re worried for him, as a lover would be, but that’s it. Joe doesn’t know what he did right in life to deserve you; you know he’s never had to deserve you in the first place.  

Joe doesn’t expect you to wait for him when he comes back from his jobs, but he feels incredibly loved when you do. You sacrifice your sleep simply because you want to see him? It’s so wonderful and so unfamiliar to him. It’s a promise of a better future.

His main form of love? Definitely acts of service. You need something fixed in the house? He's on it. Hard day at work? He's already running you a bath so you can relax. You need a ride for any reason? He’s going to pick you up, no questions asked. It makes Joe feel nice, knowing that he makes your life a little better. If only he knew how much.

He’s a great listener. Had a shitty day at work? He's here to comfort you. Saw a new movie that's absolutely great and Joe just has to see it? He's here to hear you gush about it. Joe isn’t much of a talker by nature and he deeply appreciates when you share these things with him. After all, they’re what makes you, well, you.

He loves when you steal his clothes. The first time it happened on accident - you've decided to spend the night at his place and hey, you weren’t going to stay in your work outfit all night, right? But later on it happens again and again, and Joe can’t find it in himself to stop you. Even if it’s just clothes, it’s one of the little ways he can share his life with you, can imagine you thinking about him when you wear it. The thought alone feels very comforting.

This man yearns for physical contact so much it's insane, even the lightest of your touches are everything to him. A quick brush of your fingertips against his upper arm, sweet kisses you press to the top of his head just because you feel like it, gentle hugs from behind while he's washing the dishes... After a lifetime of cruelty, all of this feels so sweet and intimate to him. Still, he can’t bring himself to outright ask you for it sometimes; as much as Joe craves this affection, this love you grant him so generously and without a second thought, the shame and fear of rejection are simply too strong. It's a good thing he doesn't need to ask.

Joe has never given his body much thought before, so seeing you so openly, unashamedly in love with it is new for him, in the best way possible. How you steal warm, lovesick glances every time you can, how you trace his scars absentmindedly when you cuddle, how you trail quick, desperate kisses down his neck and onto his collarbone... Joe didn’t think anything could ever make him blush this hard, yet here you are. He can't get enough of you.

Of course, there are still bad days. Days when Joe can't be present, no matter how much he tries. The flashbacks get too real, the negative feelings get too strong and everything just seems... Hopeless. He fully expects you to go, he wouldn't hold it against you - and yet you never do. You’re always right there: talking to him, comforting him to the best of your abilities or just quietly staying by his side, fully content to go through this pain with him. Joe can’t say why you're doing that to yourself. He knows that you love him, it’s the one thing he never doubts, but he sure doesn’t feel like he deserves this much effort. He’d never take it for granted either.

Your home is the only place where he feels truly at peace: Joe can't help but be on high alert whenever the two of you are out, always fearing something might happen, whatever that "something" might be. If it was up to him, Joe would spend the rest of his life cuddling with you in bed. His favorite pastime is doing something together or simply existing side by side while the both of you are busy with your own thing.  

You're the only person Joe feels safe enough to joke around and laugh with. He doesn't even notice how it happens: there's simply a day when he's finally happy, in a way he hasn't been in years. All of the pain he went through suddenly seems worth it if that’s what’s lead him to this, to you.

Like with most of his feelings, Joe keeps his jealousy to himself, even if it’s eating him up inside. He knows you wouldn't betray him like that, never - but even then, Joe has to all but physically restrict the part of his brain that keeps him in a horrible loop of overthinking. Because of course you would leave. It's weird that you didn't leave already. What's keeping you here anyway? It must be impossibly hard to deal with him, he would know. Breaking this pattern is a long and hard process, but Joe tries.

Speaking of trying, Joe takes his first steps at healing with you. A while ago he's made a sort of twisted peace with himself, accepting that there's no hope for him - that he's broken and there's no fixing it. Yet knowing how much you care makes Joe feel like getting help is at least worth a try. Convincing himself to do it for him is hard and exhausting, near impossible at times. Convincing himself to do it for you is easy and natural as taking a breath.

At the end of the day, Joe may seem gruff and intimidating on the outside, but he loves you more than anything. You're his reason to keep going. Joe has spent so much of his life seeing the worst of humanity, but knowing you, being with you makes him feel… Hopeful. It makes him feel like he can have a future, a future that seemed like an unreachable dream before. As long as you’re by his side, life is worth it – and as long as he’s by your side, life is wonderful and sweet.

[seal-writes-stuff]

Commodus(Gladiator (2000)

Could you do one where the reader is maximus sister she sweet loyal kind and sees the good eveyone( kind of like belle beauty and the beast ) but she reblous (kind of like alice from wonderland) she been seeing commodus for a while they love eacthother and are now engaged she does have a little dark side to her when she gets mad or someone threatnes commodus

Hi, thanks for the request! Sorry, I don't write for "Gladiator", but you can request something else for the characters from my masterist if you want to.

[bowieandqueen11]

The Risotto Incident / Roman Roy Imagine

Request: omg, I love your writing! I have a request if you’re up to it; I was reading your Dating Roman Roy hcs and I was wondering if you could write more about the snow pea risotto incident? maybe a story or more in-depth hcs?

OOoh thank you! I didn’t know anyone was interested enough to hear more about those headcanons so thank you, that’s a very sweet request! <3

Warning: strong swearing/language and mentions of trauma!

Please, please comment if you enjoyed! This took me quite a while to write and I’d love to hear your thoughts!

(I do not own Succession or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @gerri-roman.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Читать дальше

[thenegoteator]

[pettyprocrastination]

Solidarity

[seal-writes-stuff]

Hey! I absolutely love your writing it gives me life 🫶! Could you write something with Johnny from Cmon Cmon he is so gentle, fluffy or smutty do what makes you comfortable

tea prompts – Johnny (“C’mon C’mon”)

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: mostly fluff, some light angst if you squint

Summary: All in the title!

A/N: Thank you so much, that’s very kind of you to say! Of course I could, Johnny’s the sweetest and deserves everything. I also have a long fic about him in the works, but it’s still in the depths of WIPdom, so no promises for now. Prompts are taken from here, you know the drill. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

lemon tea; what are mornings like with them?

By the time you wake up, Johnny’s already in the kitchen – making a simple breakfast for the both of you, a sleepy look on his face. You’re never able to resist wrapping your arms around his waist, trailing long, lingering kisses along the side of his neck. There’s this silent tenderness hanging in the air, no words are needed.

peppermint tea; what do they get excited about?

Two words: physical touch. He's not even consciously aware of it, but once Johnny gets a taste of it from you he can’t get enough. How you mess with his hair so casually and with so much love, telling him he has beautiful curls. How you press sweet, playful kisses to the tip of his nose and lighter ones to his shoulders. How you grab his hand at every opportunity, for no other reason than being close to him. Just thinking about it warms Johnny’s heart.

chamomile tea; what is their sleep schedule like? does it change around their s/o?

Because of his job and general way of life, Johnny’s sleep schedule is pretty flexible. As long as he gets his eight hours, he’s okay with sleeping at any time of the day in any time zone. He’d have no problem with adjusting, even if you didn’t insist on it.

That said, Johnny likes to sleep in whenever he has an opportunity. It’s nice and comfortable, and with you by his side it’s an absolute heaven.

earl grey tea; how did they court their s/o?

Johnny’s great at talking – that’s his job, after all. But for the reasons unclear to him and him only, Johnny can’t ever put this skill to good use whenever he’s around you. After all, you’re so wonderful and sweet, you’re the best person he knows – and that's exactly what makes him nervous about his own flaws, heightens his anxiety. Surely you’ll see them too, right? Surely you’ll know better. It’s never been any other way.

So Johnny would just hang out with you a lot and give you these lovesick, longing looks until you – somehow, miraculously - get the hint. Or until he finally gets the courage to ask you out without, in his mind, making a complete fool out of himself. Either way, please give him time, he’s trying his best.

milk tea; what are their kisses like?

Soft and tender; Johnny likes to take his time with them. His favorite type of kisses to receive is those gentle, tired ones after you come home from work. You’re absolutely exhausted and you still take the time and effort just to show him affection? He’s in love.

coffee; do they get jealous easily? how do they show it?

Johnny’s not a possessive person. If he ever feet like you’re pulling away, he’d simply let you. Would it crush him? Absolutely. But since he can’t force you to love him back, so be it, even if it destroys him inside.

If only he could understand that he’d never need to force you. For you, loving him is the easiest, most natural thing in the world.

rosehip tea; how romantic are they? how do they show affection?

For him, true love is in the little things you share. Inside jokes. Cooking together. Shared vulnerability – he’s still rusty with open communication, but he tries his best for you. There’s no doubt in your mind that he wants this to last; it truly doesn’t get more romantic than that.

black tea; what do they look for in a person?

Above all, Johnny wants to find someone who understands him. For him, being seen, being truly known and loved anyway is a luxury not many people have. It’s something he wishes for desperately.

When he tries to explain it to you, rambling in a half-awake state, you get it immediately – yet it breaks your heart at the same time. You don’t love him in spite of knowing who he really is, you love him because you know who he really is - it’s one thing that’s never going to change.

You tell him just that. And that’s when Johnny hugs you tight, if only to hide how close he is to crying. Somehow, despite everything, he managed to find this understanding, to find you.

pomegranate tea; at what point did they know they loved their s/o?

He knew right away. Johnny’s always been a romantic at heart, but holding onto that got harder for him with time. Love at the first sight is reserved for cheesy movies; the real world simply isn’t like that. The relationships, even the most meaningful ones, aren’t like that. Everything is messy, everything is hard and everything needs lots of effort to work out.

And then Johnny talks to you one day and realizes that he never wants to let you go. Maybe this will be hard later, he thinks. Maybe this will take lots of effort to work out too. But it’s something that will definitely, absolutely be worth it.

That’s when he knew.

matcha tea; how and when do they propose to their s/o?

Johnny would simply ask you to marry him when the both of you are at your most comfortable. It would be a lie to say that he didn’t spend a lot of time overthinking the whole concept, but in the end his love for you outweighs his natural nervousness. Life is short and Johnny can’t imagine it without you - not when he knows what it’s like to be with you.

chai tea; how do they spice up their relationship?

Honestly, the life itself does all the spicing up for him. Johnny craves stability, something to fall back on whenever the times get tough – something he feels like he can never get. He’s grateful for what the two of you already have, he wouldn’t want to mess it up by accident.

hibiscus tea; what’s their favourite place to take their s/o?

When Johnny has to travel, whether it’s to work on his various projects or to visit Viv and Jesse, he loves to bring you along. For him, it’s a great way of inviting you into his world – seeing unfamiliar places and giving a new meaning to the familiar ones.

green tea; how do they comfort their s/o? 

Despite what he might tell you, Johnny’s great at comforting people and he takes extra care when he’s comforting you. Offering you a shoulder to cry on. Hearing you out, no matter how long it’s taking or how busy he is. Simply hugging you. Those hugs alone are enough to put you at ease – with Johnny’s support, you feel like you can get through anything.

He’s also panicking and absolutely losing it the whole time, but you’d never guess it just by looking at him.

russian caravan tea; how experienced are they with relationships?

Let’s just say Johnny knows what he’s talking about. He’s a bit older, so he’s been in a number of relationships over the years: a lot of memories, a lot of heartbreak. It doesn’t discourage him, though. Your presence in his life is enough of a proof that love is real.

And also it’s a proof that maybe he deserves this love too, no matter how much of a mess he is.

english breakfast tea; would they want a family?

Johnny isn't dead-set on having kids. He's still nervous about screwing them up somehow, despite your continuous insistence that he’s great with children. Above all, he simply wants to be by your side; in his eyes, as long as you have your little family, however it may look, everything is going to be all right.

rooibos tea; what’s their favourite thing to do with their s/o?

Late night conversations. For Johnny, it's everything he's ever wanted from a relationship: feeling safe enough to bare his soul and accepting you as you are in return.

Both of you know that neither of you are perfect, but it doesn’t matter. After all, who needs perfection as long as you have love?

[thelonelyempath-deactivated2025]

Nightmare Prompts

"Hey, you okay?"

2. "You were hyperventilating in your sleep."

3. "Do you want to talk about it?"

4. "Breathe, baby. It's okay."

5. "Scoot over. I'm staying with you tonight."

6. "I'm right here. You're safe."

7. "It was just a dream, honey. It wasn't real."

8. "You have these a lot, don't you?"

9. "Shh. Go back to sleep, darling."

10. "As your boyfriend/girlfriend/partner, it's my duty to cuddle you back to sleep when you have a nightmare. Come here so I can do that."

11. "Stay. Just until I fall asleep."

12. "Please don't leave me." "Never, sweetheart."

13. "Are you sure you're okay? You're sweating."

14. "Were you having a nightmare, darling?"

15. "It's over. You're safe now. I've got you."

16. "Look at me. I'm real. Hold my hand if you need proof. I'm real and your dream wasn't."

17. "Nothing can hurt you when I'm here."

18. "You were screaming so loud I bet the neighbors think you were being murdered."

19. "Is there anything I can do to make it better?"

20. "Don't worry, love. I won't let them hurt you."

21. "Just let me hold you for a minute."

22. "Close your eyes. Listen to the sound of my voice."

23. "Darling, you are shaking."

24. "Open your eyes, baby."

25. "I'm sorry I woke you up." "No, don't apologize, honey. I had to make sure you were okay."

26. "I know it scared you. But it's over now."

27. "Deep breaths, love. Just like that."

28. "I can wait until you're ready to talk about it."

29. "What made it so scary?"

30. "Do you want me to get you some water?"

[bowieandqueen11]

Resolved Issues / Roman Roy Imagine

Request: HIIIII gonna send my succession request while i still can lol.

how about roman and reader sharing childhood stories? him realising that perhaps, maybe the way his family has treated him is tiny bit Not Normal. the reader being somewhere between “oh my god let me give you a hug” and “i just might fight logan roy in the parking lot”. yknow good old hurt/comfort you do it like no other

Thank you so much sweetie!! But also yes I feel this in my soul frick Logan Roy lmao 

Warning: strong language. mentions of diarrhoea and mentions of child abuse/ physical abuse! 

This 3k beast took quite a while to write, so feedback is appreciated! Thank you! :)

(I do not own Succession or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @loverboyromanroy.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Roman shrugs his shoulders and looks steadily at you, straight into your eyes.

‘The fuck- how should I know? Like… twenty three, ish?’

Roman’s perching on the edge of his own sofa, so obviously uncomfortable even in his own apartment. His wrist flicks as he answers, and a few drops of the whiskey he hasn’t touched comes sloshing round the side to stain his brand new eggshell blue decorative pillows. He had never cared much for property. But then again, he hadn’t cared much for whiskey either growing up; it had been his father’s drink of choice, and therefore his. The faint fire in the cold marble fireplace behind his head licks between his ears, and illuminates the confused amusement gleaming in his eyes.

You scoff, and shake your head at him incredulously. ‘Your own twenty three houses, and you choose to live here?’ Awaiting an answer you know will be even more ridiculous, you make an effort to tuck your legs criss-cross under you, and sit with your knees resting just underneath Roman’s lower legs. ‘And yet you still live in the coldest ass apartment, I swear to god I’m freezing my ass off, and that’s even with the fire going. Are you a fucking yeti or something, Roman Roy?’

He chortles as you continue: ‘you thrive in colder climates, huh? That’s not surprising, considering a glare from your father could freeze hell over.’ You take a final sip of your drink before reaching over and placing it on the sleek black coffee table; Roman’s eyes drop for a split second as if almost in despondency, some kind of deep scarred sorrow peeking its way out like a tired child, before rising back to yours, seeking comfort. It doesn’t slip your attention. You make sure your fingers brush against his socks as you slip your hands back to your laugh, and give a sweet squeeze to the tippy toes. He lets out a giggle and kicks his foot out at you, and it’s the most delightful sound you’d ever hear: that true, unadulterated happiness that Roman Roy rarely ever is permitted to have, without some kind of malicious intention lurking behind it.

‘Okay, well, one’, he ostentatiously holds a finger up by twirling it in the air, and it takes you a second to realise he’s pointedly showing you his middle finger. ‘Fuck you. Two-’, he decides to count with his pinkie finger, ‘my dad owns twenty three hours, I own approximately zero fucking squilch of that. And three, I’m a fucking incredible designer - see that Feng Shui over there? All me baby, I would have fucking killed it as an interior design.’

‘Having one sad as fuck looking potted plant by the window and literally no personal items doesn’t count as Feng Shui, dumbass. You’re just sad.’

‘Okay - well - if you’re such a smartass-’, Roman winds his hands up by his head but nearly lets the crystal glass his brother had bought him for his last birthday fall onto the hardwood floor, so he grimaces and gently places it on the rug. He turns back to glance at you, and despite the fact he’s positioning himself as if he’s conducting an interview: elbows resting on knees with hands clasped out before him, face set in stone, he still looks intent and truthfully curious about the answer he’s hoping you’ll give. ‘What was your childhood home like then? I’m sure full of unicorns that shart rainbows and fucking fairies that sneeze glitter from the way you hate my deco.’

You pause to think for a minute, not fully expecting such an honest question to come from Roman Roy. You place a finger gingerly against your lip, and in that second, perched up on the edge of the pristine settee, Roman wishes he could just leap over and replace your fingertip with his lips. He had never been so entranced by someone: never had the privilege of knowing someone from this corporate world who would be so truthful, so different from him. And yet, at the same time, someone who so deliciously, so crudely, so cruelly reminded him of the young child locked in the cage within his heart: so unknowingly let him cling onto the little bit of him he had tried to keep alive. The only bit of him left that wasn’t a Roy. That was just Roman.

Keep reading

[bowieandqueen11]

Roman Roy Being Jealous Would Include...

Request: also. ALSOOOO here’s one for “succession” - how about jealous roman? hcs or fic, whatever you prefer

WHOO okay how we feeling after the last ep @seal-writes-stuff??? I am literally going insane!! :)

Also sorry if this is literally terrible, it’s been over a week since I’ve written anything and I’m just dusting off the cobwebs again!

Warning: mentions of childhood trauma/abuse, some death imagery and some swearing!

Positive feedback is much appreciated loves, thank you!! <3

(I do not own Succession or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @cinematicnomad.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Oh Roman. How does it feel to be doomed by the narrative, no matter if you live or die? How does it feel to be a tragedy incarnate: so much like your father, while every last scrap of you is beaten and suffocated as soon as it dares to show its head?

So it begs the question: would Roman’s jealously be like him? Soft? Fraught? Solicitous, even its sadness and disappointment? Or has Logan wormed his way too maliciously into Roman’s way of thinking, warped him so completely that he will respond to it like a puppet on a string? Would he be crass? Irate? Dismissive? 

Would he try to hide himself back in his cage, retreating to a safety he doesn’t understand, not understanding that his father is the one kicking quickly at his heels?

In all honest truth, sometimes Roman Roy wishes he was someone else. Don’t get him wrong, he didn’t detest being a Roy as sometimes his older brother seemed to, when he would come slogging out of his father’s quarters at the ripe old age of 15: bleary eyed, not really seeing Roman as he peeked round the pillar by the door, waiting for Kendall to come back out. He might pat him on the head, or sometimes just briskly brush past him, floating down the dim corridor as if he were a child treading water; a man already dead.

No, he didn’t quite hate being a Roy. Sure, he may have hated, or perhaps just not understood why his father tried to change Kendall so much, but any puzzled questions offered up to the patriarch had always ended in a smack across the face, or a thwack with his shoe, or a paperweight thrown at his head, and so Roman had just accepted the fact that Kendall was different. That he was the special child: allowed to see his father’s true colours. The only one really trusted by him. The only one trying to help him become the man he knew one day he should be.

He had been cultivated to be proud of his name, but he still wasn’t used to the baggage, or the certain expectations trying to bring said people into said family brought. It didn’t matter that Roman had loved you since you were both five years old, or that you spent many the summer holidays hiding out with Roman in his room, or running out into the Roy’s nearby orchard so the two of you could swing across trees and roll in mud and play pirates like real children should.

But the two of you always had to come back to reality at some point. No matter how many times they met you, it was always brisk and informal. It was the raised eyebrows as soon as you enter Logan’s apartment; Roman didn’t miss the way Gerri and Frank looked at each other incredulously before turning their backs. They chatter silently with heads bowed, but their words whip over the edge of their whiskey glasses like bullets and pierce Roman with each step from the elevator.

You weren’t part of the business, and thus an outsider.

It was the way Shiv raises an unenthusiastic eyebrow as you came up to greet the woman you had been aware of since childhood, placing a faux half-kiss against your cheek. Her cheeks warm, and she squints at her husband, obviously irate, when he at least tries to seem cheerful and shake your hand. She had always seen you as a kind of ‘ingrown toenail’, as she had bluntly told Roman many years ago. Another part of him: the childish part, dragging him down and making the company look ridiculous. Only Kendall seemed to appreciate the way you intimately knew Roman, and he was thankful deep down inside his heavy heart that he had some kind of safety weight: some kind of way to stay anchored to himself. To stay happy. To not become like him.

You weren’t a Roy, not part of the family, and thus an outsider. Dangerous. Too intricately entwined with the life of Roman Roy for a whole apartment complex of bootlickers and backstabbers to trust you: too bright, too normal for a room full of damaged and manipulated and lost children parading as business people to understand you.

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[seal-writes-stuff]

SEAL i can't stop thinking about the deliciously good hurt/comfort in your valentines post. it's all-consuming. you write it so well. would it be absolutely bonkers of me to send dani requests using some of the dialogue prompts you just reblogged or should i practice moderation & request other characters for once like a normal person LOL

LMAOOOOO don't even worry about it, request whatever for whatever character you like. There are blorbos I've been rotating in my mind nonstop for literal years (Dani included), I totally get it. No moderation whatsoever in this house

Also OUCH MY HEART💞💖💗

[seal-writes-stuff]

SEAL. SEAL. SEAL. DO YOU KNOW THAT REACTION IMAGE OF THE CHIHUAHUA THAT LOOKS ABSOLUTELY FERAL & SMILEY & IS LICKING ITS LIPS. THAT WAS ME WHEN I SAW THE VALENTINES POST HAD AN ANGST WARNING LMAOOOO. & GOD DID YOU DELIVER. my heart especially crumbled when she gave the hug from behind & apologized for not preparing anything. gOD. YOUR STUFF IS ALWAYS WORTH THE WAIT, i honestly love the "time-honored tradition" of celebrating things late with a delicious heaping of self-insert ((: BLESS YOU ILYSM

You're such a sweetie I SWEAR TO GOD-

Honestly your comments are top tier, every time you point out some particular things you like I feel like An Auteur™ fjfkhlllgkljk kiss kiss smooch smooch💞💖💗

Also thank u for your patience, can't appreciate it enough! I love writing and I love fulfilling requests, but y'know. Sometimes life is a hydraulic press and I'm a piece of Play Doh🥲

[thelonelyempath-deactivated2025]

Noticing Trauma Prompts

1. “Who did this to you?”

2. “You don’t have to tell me what happened if you don’t want to, but I want you to know that I’m here for you.”

3. “I heard you screaming.  Are you okay?”

4. “Would you like a hug?”

5. “You do this thing with your hands when you get nervous.  Why?”

6. “That’s it, baby.  Just breathe.  In and out.”

7. “You’re safe.  I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

8. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

9. “You don’t deserve to be hurt like that.”

10. “I’m here to listen if you ever need to talk.”

11. “I can’t make the pain go away.  But I can at least try to make it more bearable for you.”

12. “Did something happen to you that I don’t know about?”

13. “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to trigger anything.”

14. “Talk to me.  What’s wrong?”

15. “Hey.  You know I love you, right?”

16. “I know it hurts, but you’ll get through it.  I promise.”

17. “It seems like that really rattled you.”

18. “Look at me, darling.  You’re gonna be okay.”

19. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

20. “You’re right.  I don’t understand.  I may never fully understand what you’re going through.  But please let me help you get through this.”

21. “How often does this happen?”

22. “Would you feel more comfortable talking about it if I turned around?”

23. “Don’t focus on them.  Just focus on me.”

24. “I know how strong you are.  I need you to be strong for me.”

25. “It upset you, didn’t it?”

26. “It’s okay.  I won’t hurt you.”

27. “You’re always safe with me, love.”

28. “Nightmares again?”

29. “Do you want to talk about it?”

30. “I’m not gonna make you do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

31. “You’ve been through a lot.  Too much.”

32. “I’m here.  You’re safe.”

33. “I’m gonna find the fucker that hurt you and reduce them to the sorry son of a bitch they are.”

34. “No one’s ever gonna hurt you again.  Not as long as I’m around.”

35. “I’ll stay as long as you need.”

36. “No one’s asking you to get over this immediately.  Take your time and heal.”

37. “Your health, safety, and wellbeing take precedence over everything else.”

38. “You’re doing great.  I’m proud of you.”

39. “It’s in the past.  It can’t hurt you anymore.”

40. “I wish I had a time machine so I can go back and stop that from happening.”