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#i did this mostly in the dark so i hope the colour isn't off or smth
anonymooseforever007 · 10 months
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Ring Around the Roses
(Alfie Solomons x female reader)
Summary: Attempting to get away from the Shelby party chaos, Alfie and his wife sneak off into Tommy's garden for a little fun. It isn't until the next morning they discover the consequences of their actions and Alfie has to remind his wife what their marriage is really about.
A/N-Hi Y'all! Possible TW's for only the end of this include Mentions of death, Unhealthy coping habits and self blame! Also this is for K's (@runnning-outof-time) 3K celebration! Congratulations you're amazing and I love seeing you on here❤️❤️❤️ I hope you like this! I haven't done a celebration before really but I saw your theme and the idea spring into my head. Despite the warnings it's mostly fluffy until the time skip! Also there's one part that implies smut but none actually written! Enjoy ❤️
WC- 6.6k
Main Masterlist
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"Are you sure we can do this out here?"
"Do what dovey? I'm just taking a nice little stroll with my darling wife aren't I? Letting her get a quiet break from all those heathens inside."
You scoffed, knocking into your husband's side gently as the pair of you walked through the garden. For a man who seemed particularly fond of dark colours, Thomas Shelby's garden was particularly vibrant. 
"Oh hush, you only call them heathens because you're too scared to use the word friend."
"FRIEND!" Alfie scoffed while kicking at a particularly beautifully tulip that just happened to be nearby, just to prove his point. "No no no Dovey, THEY are not my friends, yeah. If I were to pick anyone to be my friend it certainly would not be ANY of them." 
You only rolled your eyes and shot a knowing smirk in his direction. For all your husband's spite and trickery, you knew he really did have a soft spot for the Shelby family.
"Alright love, I believe ya. That's absolutely why you immediately declined the invitation to come here tonight isn't it. Burned it in the fireplace correct? Told me not to put it in the calendar? Because you don't have plans at being anything other than vicious enemies is that right? The pie I brought tonight was a death threat wasn't it? Did you slip in some arsenic into the powdered sugar?"
Rolling his eyes at your teasing, Alfie couldn't help but smile as he watched you laugh at your own joke. Continuing your path through the garden you mindlessly reached back a hand for your husband a few steps behind. A clear indication of what you wanted. What you always wanted. Slipping his hand between yours, he let you drag him through the bushes, further from the party. With each step he could see you relax a bit more, as you enjoyed the scene around you.
"Is it quieter out here Dovey?"
Smiling softly, you only nodded your head before reaching out gently to touch the leaves of a nearby bush. Though the party was fun, it had gotten a bit loud and in the growing chaos you needed some air. So while Tommy and Polly were distracted trying to convince Arthur and Finn not to throw Michael in the lake, you and your husband had slipped outside. 
"Alfie, we should plant a garden of our own I think."
"Is that right Dovey? Does my lady want some bushes of her own to trim doesn't she?"
"I think we could get some nice rose bushes. I've always loved those."
"Roses, is that it? You got a feeling about those prickly little parasites don't ya Dovey? I never got why you liked them."
Chuckling you sat on the edge of a nearby wall as your husband dug his feet in the ground. You knew exactly why Alfred hated roses, and it still amused you to this day. 
It happened years ago, around the time you'd first gotten together. This was before Alfie was even able to grow a beard, and all his kisses resulted in a scratchy scruff that prickled your face. Way back when boxing was still his main pastime instead of "baking", both kinds actually and these days your husband finally knew how to make a decent muffin. In an effort to be romantic, he'd shown up at your work one day with a nice bouquet of roses. They were lovely flowers and you were immensely elated by the gesture, and especially amused since he'd bought the flowers from that very shop only the day before too.... However it was a shame you never got the chance to put them in water. See, somewhere between the ten steps it took to get from the door to your table, he had tripped and fallen flat on the ground. Don't worry, his face hadn't hit the hard ground, it was cushioned....by the thorny roses. Maybe it was a good thing the thorns had left so many bloody scratches. It meant you weren't able to tell his face had turned as red as the roses petals now surrounding him. Instead of the romantic date he wanted to take you on, the evening was spent with you dapping the cuts on his face with a damp cloth while he started at the wall, contemplating every life choice he'd ever made. That was the night Alfred Solomons decided he'd never trust a rose ever again. Not even the ones his darling wife sought to plant in her gardens.
"Alfie, come on! Roses aren't that bad, just because you had a little slip up years ago doesn't mean they all hate you."
Standing by up again, you held out your arms towards Alfie as music began to reach the garden. Shaking his head lightly, he set down his cane and took your arms, fully confident you'd be there to support him if his hip got too bad. You and Alfie had yet to dance tonight, caught up talking with others (which was really just your doing) and pointing out everyone who'd gotten too drunk and was trying piss in the plants. It wasn't something either of your minded to badly, the large crowds of people tended to make you feel a bit nervous and Alfie occasionally had a hard time keeping rhythm because of his hip. So most of your dancing was done in the back corners of the ballroom or privately in your kitchen, waiting for the midnight snacks to be done. 
However tonight, it seems you'd be dancing in Thomas Shelby's garden. Slowly but happily, you waltzed closely with your husband, stepping around the fountain and laughing as he stopped to twirl you ever few seconds. Other than the music from the house and the gentle crunches  of your shoes beneath the gravel path, the world was silent. When the song ended your husband gave you a gentle kiss and stepped back, though he was still holding you in his arms. Looking up above yourselves, you saw the constellations fitting the night sky.
"Ohh Alfie! Look at them! Aren't they beautiful?"
Beaming, you grinned up at the stars twinkling down on you before moving from your husband to a smaller empty plot of ground. You suspected that something was to be planted there soon, but paid no mind to the grime that would get on your skirt as you settled down to sit in the dirt. It was a nice little spot, right next to the rocky path and dug out in a manner that was lined on three sides by tall hedges. To anyone looking out if the mansion, the little alcove would have been completely invisible. 
"What are ya doing now Dovey? Is this the thing you said we shouldn't be doing?" Alfie teased you from where he was still standing.
"I just wanna sit and watch the stars for a bit. Come," remaining seated you patted the spot next to you, "Join me."
Alfie walked over to the spot but when he got there, he only raised an eyebrow at you and tapped his hip with the cane. You stared for a moment and then it clicked. Laughing slightly at your forgetfulness, you stood up, bowing dramatically, and held out your arm. 
"Right right, I forget you have the hip of an overworked, ninety seven year old parlor dancer. Shall I assist you to the ground my dear sir?"
Alfie only grumbled, but his eyes twinkled as you teased him. If anyone else had made the comment they'd have been dead before they blinked, but you were different. Alfred Solomons was capable of many things, but some nights when his hip got bad, he needed help moving around more, especially if it meant going from standing to sitting on the ground. You were happy to help of course, but being married for over a decade didn't mean the pair of you were above lightly poking fun of the other. Only two years ago, you had accidentally scratched part of your eye and needed to wear an eyepatch for five weeks. The first thing Alfie had done when you walked out of the examination room and asked if he could get food for dinner, was reply with "does patchy wanted a cracker" in reference to the one eyed parrot you'd seen in a film the month before. It was just something you'd always done together even before you started dating. A dark humor you both shared, as if joking about the hurt could make it better. 
Holding his other arm, you gently helped your husband lower himself to the ground, squeezing his hand comfortingly when he let out a small groan. After helping your husband take a seat, you settled into your own again, leaning your head on his shoulder as you looked to the heavens. 
"You aren't really gonna plant roses are ya Love? What if something happens to them?"
"Like what? You assault them with your face again?"
"....Maybe? But like why do you really enjoy them? I still don't see the charm."
Sighing, you shifted your gaze and looked your husband in the eyes.  One of your hands moved up to his face, as you gently caresses the one spot on his face that refused to grow hair like the rest of his beard. You knew it was another old war wound, but this was actually one he had yet to tell you the story of. Gazing into his eyes a few moments more, you then changed positions so you were seated across his lap, one leg in either side of his.
"Why do I love roses?....Their petals are as soft as their thorns are sharp and given the right hand, their climb up any wall in their path. Not only that but their petals can have many uses for food or paint or even my blush. That means they are able to change their usefulness based off their situation at hand. They are able to adapt, nor are the helpless. Some people say the point of the thorns is to choke out anything else threatening to take the roses' livelihood." you gently held your husbands face between your hands as you continued, "I like roses because they remind me of you Alfie. Because they are beautiful, and strong, and dangerous. You are a gorgeous and strong man, and I know how badly you try to protect me every day. You are so kind to me, but I know how far you'll go for me. I would go just as far for you. You are my rose Alfred Solomons and so I love them as all they remind me of you."
Alfie was quiet for a moment, observing what you'd said. His hands sat on your waist, thumbs rubbing gently in your sides. 
"You saying I'm like a fucking flower Dovey, is that it?"
"Yeah, you're my flower though."
"....Alright."
"....You know why else you're like a rose love?"
"Why poppet?"
"Because it can be a pain in the ass to keep you alive sometimes."
Alfie only put his hand to his chest in mock offense, while your grinned up at him mischievously.
"Oi, now you better watch your words there Dovey."
"Make me Rosie," you whispered, grinning as your leaned closer to your husbands face, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw.
Gently Alfie leaned back, taking you with him until his back was on the ground. Hands, still on his face, you could feel the smile on his face. Slowly one of his hands moved to your head bringing you down so he could kiss you again. Sweet at first but it quickly increased in passion and vigor. Though eventually you had to pull back for breath, and it was then you realized his hands had already rearranged your skirts in a way overnight you both.
"Alfred? I know we can't do this out here?"
Your husband only laughed, reaching towards his belt as he pulled you close again.
"Slide down a bit farther and I think you'll see we definitely can Dovey. It's only a matter of being quiet enough to evade capture."
It was a nice little spot, right next to the rocky path and dug out in a manner that was lined on three sides by tall hedges. To anyone looking out if the mansion, the little alcove would have been completely invisible. And luckily, the music was loud enough to hide the sounds of rustling bushes...
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It wasn't until the next morning when you realized what went wrong...
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After making it back to the house last night and finding half the dog food "mysteriously missing", the pair of you had decided to call it a night. And since business was going so well Alfie had elected to take a few days off, hoping to spend more time with you. It also meant he'd finally be able to sleep in.....or so he thought.
A sudden crash woke Alfie from his slumber the next morning. 
Shooting up, he automatically looked to his right, and his heart stopped for a moment realizing you weren't there. Another clatter from downstairs and a frustrated scream from you had him practically jumping out of bed and grabbing his gun. You usually like staying in bed for a few more hours, especially when he was there, so the fact he could hear your distress from upstairs made him worry. 
Carefully Alfie snuck down the hall, peaking in rooms to make sure no unsavory figures were lurking behind the door. Another annoyed groan accompanied by various curse words hurried him to his final destination. 
"Love, are you alright?"
It was a stupid thing to ask as you were very much not alright. The kitchen was a mess, looking like every cabinet had been opened and all the contents pulled out. Pots and bass were laud hurriedly across the counters as you rummaged through every nook and cranny. A quickly glance into the living room told Alfie it was scattered in a similar state. But you hadn't responded to your husband, not the first time or even the second. It wasn't until Alfie stepped right up behind you, putting his hand on your shoulder, and turning your around to face him when you responded.
"I can't find it."
Your voice wavered as you admitted the truth. Looking down like a small child about to be told off, you averted your face from your husband's. Alfie was still confused, but he could tell whatever you were rallying about was obviously important.
"Can't find what Dovey? Whatever it is it's probably isn't too bad. I can help ya find it righty?"
"No Alfie you don't undertstand."
"Then help me understand Love. Let's get through this together like we always have yeah? Come on, tell your husband what we're looking for." Carefully cupping your face in his hands, Alfie guided you to look at him again. He could see the tears welling in your eyes as you spoke.
"....I.....I lost my wedding ring Alfie."
"Oh."
It was the simple oh that broke the dam. Stepping back from your husband, tears began to stream down your face as you shoved your fingers in you hair as if trying to hold in the stress.
"SEE I told you it was terrible. I...I woke up this morning and went to the bathroom and noticed it missing when I went to clean my hands. I figured I'd just taken it off la... last night but it wasn't by the bed table like I usually put it. Then I went through the bathroom and it wasn't there. I've gone through every room in this hours and I can't fucking find it!!! I don't ....I don't know where it is Alfie. I just... oh god." 
Covering you mouth with your hand, you realized where you lost the ring. 
"Alfie the fucking garden."
"The garden? Love you haven't made the garden yet, how could it be there?"
"No, TOMMY'S garden. It has to be there. It fell off last night when we were rolling in the dirt. I've been meaning by to get it resized. Oh fuck this is awful"
Alfie actually chuckled at your realization. Of course the ring would fall off in the most inconvenient place possible, but he wasn't about to tell you that.
"Thats alright Dovey we can just..."
Throwing your hands in the air you interrupted your husband, frustrated at yourself for a number of reasons. It stung Alfie's heart to see you like this. Carefully he dragged your hands from your face and pulled you into a hug. Soothingly his hands ran up and down your back as he tried to comfort you.
"We can just what Alfred? Waltz back over and demand he let us dig up the plants for it? He'd probably ask why and what are we suppose to say then huh Alfred? Oh you know, we lost it in the garden you see...Well what were you doing there Y/N? ...Nothing much just fertilizing the soil, pollinating the flower, playing like the rake and ho, rustling the bushes, sowing seed in the garden, FUCKING IN THE FLOWERBEDS!!!! No we can't do that Alfie we just can't! It's probably gone forever... I'm so sorry."
Alfie was the one to hide his face this time. He knew you were in distress but he was amused by one of your last sentences. You always were good with the innuendos. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he tried to get you to calm down. He knew at this point you weren't so mad about the ring, as just overwhelmed by the lack of success you'd had in finding it.
"Yes love, we can tell him all those things and if he'd got any sort of romantic bone in his tiny, banged up little body he'd offer us shovels to dig if we need them. And if not then I'd wager every deal I'd ever have with his lot is out the fucking window isn't it. We've been married since before the little one of them was teething haven't we? It's not like they don't think we're fucking. Besides it's a decent fucking garden, Tommy should have know what he was doing when he made that little hidey spot didn't he? It'll be fine. And if I find it then I'll get to propose to you all over again won't I? I think if I got one wish left in the word it would be to do that again. Ask if you'd be mine forever and let you know I'll always be there. Love I promise. It's alright Dovey, it's ok. No need to get worked up about it's not such a big deal."
Thought he was trying to help, his last sentence only made things worse. Stepping pack from Alfie you threw your hands up again.
"IT IS OUR MARRIAGE ALFIE! And I've practically lost it like it means nothing at all! How can you say that!"
There it was. The really reason you were so worked up. Not because you'd lost the little ring. It was because somewhere in your mind, over the years you'd been together, you'd gotten the idea that if you didn't have it on your were almost betraying everything you held dear. As if you thought without the ring, all the vows you'd mad together were nil. Alfie couldn't help but laugh at that. He laughed hard too, like you'd told the funniest joke in their world. 
"You think that ring is our marriage?"
Stepping closer again Alfie took your arms and pulled you closer.
"Our marriage is so much more than that fucking ring love," he said, cupping your face between his hands again. "Our marriage is me stealing Ollie's shirt before every lunch date because his is cleaner than mine and wanna look my best for the best, that's you by the way. It's you grinning at me through the glass window at fuck O'clock in then morning when I've taken the dog out for a piss since you thought it'd be funny to lock me out in the cold in my fucking skeevies again. It's me paying a fuck ton of money to the flower shop down the street so you could get a rose every week I was away fighting. It's you spending hours patching me up after I had a bad fight even though blood makes you gag yeah. When you refuse to give me dinner until I give you a kiss and when I won't give you a gift until I've gotten a hug? Sharing a bath after a hard day? That's our marriage. You interrupting my meeting because you're so excited to show me a new book? Me interrupting your book club because I've just gotten back from a business trip? You demanding I come to bed and cuddle up, only to shove me off of you later when you're too hot? Me tightening jars in the pantry so you have to get me to open them? Making fun of each other's injuries, patchy? Don't you see it? You. Me. You. Me. You. Me. WE."
"Alfie..." You couldn't help but smile at your husband's words realizing he was right.
"Dovey, It isn't defined by a thin piece of metal with a tiny fucking stone that I stole off a rich toff at a boxing match one day. Our marriage is YOU and ME and every little moment in between. And I promise it's always gonna be just that. And do you know why that is Treacle?"
Alfie had moved his hands again, now resting them on your hips. Gazing at you lovingly he waited for your answer.
"Why Ally?"
"Because I'm your flower remember? I'm your fucking rose.... and you're fucking my sunshine, Dovey. I have no chance of living without you."
Wrapping your arms around your husband, you buried your face into his neck. Losing the ring you'd worn almost every day for years didn't seem so criminal anymore. 
"Alfred Solomons when did you learn to say something so romantic."
Your husband only chuckled as he step away, grabbing some of the boxes you'd pulled out in your panic. 
"A master never reveals his secrets Dovey. Now come on. Let's clean this up and then we'll go get you a new ring eh? Wouldn't want any gangly miscreant thinking they've got a chance with you would we?"
Looking at the damage you'd done, you couldn't but sigh, maybe it would have been better to wake your husband immediately before diving head first into your expedition. Now you were kicking yourself since you'd just redone all the work you'd don't last week reorganizing every thing.
"I'm not sure the jewellery shop will still be open today by the time we finish Alfred. I'm not even sure we'll be able to finish this in a week with the mess I've made."
Your husband just bonked you lightly with the broom he handed you and nudged you in the direction of the living room.
"That's alright Dovey. Because unless you've got some nefarious little plans I haven't heard of to steal my dog and run off, I don't think either of us is going anywhere anytime soon aren't we?"
You could only smile and kiss him on the cheek.
"I suppose you're right. We've got all the time in the world...."
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Two years later...
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"Shelby, I want my dog."
The Shelby in question turned around, eyeing the woman before him. He knew this day would come. Only he expected it to be sooner, a few days, maybe even a week later...but now it was four months. Four months since he....despite his feelings towards the man, Tommy couldn't help but feel slight regrets for what he'd done. Especially seeing the state of her now, standing in his garden.
"He's just gone on a walk with Charlie and Finn. They should be back in an hour or so."
"I'll wait... I see you filled in that empty plot of ground. They're lovely flowers, I don't remember them being there two winters ago."
Tommy averted his gaze to the bushes you were pointing at. Indeed the small alcove where you'd hidden with your husband had been filled. In its place grew a thick rose bush, blooming with life. You smiled, and to anyone else, they might have thought your look truthful. And some of it was, thinking of the happy memories connected there. But Tommy could see deeper than that. Behind the smile he could see the same pain he had when he looked in mirrors. The pain that came from losing the thing you loved most. For as different as you both were, he knew the tactic you played, though the mask you wore was much brighter than his. And for now he decided he could respect that. He could pretend just for a moment, if only to help you. It was the least he could do, seeing as he was the reason you wore it... He was the one to pull the trigger.
"You're right. The gardener put them in almost two years ago, right after the party where Arthur and Finn tossed Michael into the lake. Do you remember that one? I saw you talking to my sister but never saw you leave that night."
A genuine chuckle left your mouth hearing his words. You played with the ring on your left hand. Only two years old and very expensive, but in that moment, it felt like you were wearing another ring again. One that was much older and worn, that you hadn't seen in years. 
"I do. That was certainly a night I'll remember forever. It's a shame you got rid of that little alcove. It was a nice little spot away from the world wasn't it."
Tommy could only nod and take another drag of his cigarette.
"Did Alfie ever tell you about the first and last time he gave me roses in person. I mean, of course he probably didn't and I'll have to tell you sometime, but I think you might find it funny. There's a lot about him I'm sure he hasn't told you. But then again, knowing him there's probably a lot he did..." You trailed off, staring at the flowers a bit longer, remembering that day over a decade ago, not really meaning to tell Tommy that, doing so anyway. After all, no one had heard from you in months, so it made sense to him, that you'd be eager to talk to anyone. Even the man you should hate most in the world.
Silence descended on the pair standing tense in the garden. There was so much to be said, but neither knew where to start. Truthfully, you'd only talked to Tommy a handful of times, but he felt like he'd already known you like his sister. He couldn't help but scoff, thinking of all the times Alfie had gone off on a tangent about you during a meeting. Sometimes, your mention had nothing to do what was being discussed at all, Alfie just liked to brag about the good he had. In the end it was Tommy who spoke up first, the guilt of his past actions finally caving in on him.
"Y/N, I'm sor..."
"Don't. Thomas, I don't want you to say sorry," turning from the vibrant blooms, you faced the capped man. "I don't want you to say sorry, because you know what? I don't blame you. You're completely alright. I'm not mad at you.... It's my fault I suppose. I could have stopped it."
Tommy raised his eyebrow, curious to what you meant, and also concerned. There was something in your eyes that made his stomach turn slightly hearing those words. But he couldn't exactly place why.
"What's that suppose to mean Y/N?"
You only let out a bittersweet laugh and stared out into the garden again, sitting on the edge of a familiar fountain before you revealed the truth.
"It's my fault he's gone I think. I should have known. I should have never left that day and I could have stopped it."
Tommy's brows furrowed as he sat down next to you. 
"What's that mean? You couldn't have known what his plan was? It's not your fault."
Absentmindedly, you picked at the leaves of a nearby bush. Though your voice was even, Tommy could practically see the war inside your head.
"It's how he kissed me when I left that day. I was only going to be gone a few days to visit my friend who was suppose to have her baby soon. Nothing dangerous. But it's the way he kissed me that should have tipped me off. He kissed me the way he did when he got on the damed train, in that damned uniform. He kissed me like he didn't think he'd see me ever again, going to die in the war. And I guess he didn't."
Tommy didn't say anything. He just let you continue. Something in his head told him, he needed to let your speak, he needed to keep you here tonight. If he let you leave today, no one would ever see you again and something in Tommy told him not to let that happen.
"You know I still haven't admitted it to myself just yet... The truth," standing up you began to pace around the fountain, circling the water. "Since I first got the call I haven't picked up the phone anymore, I'm scared of what I'll hear. I haven't opened any letters, because I don't want to see what they'll say. I still haven't even gone home yet. I've been paying for a hotel room by my friend's house and only leaving by when I need more food. I know it not good for me, but it's all I can find I can do. I've been telling myself it's just that. He's gone to the war again and he'll be back in a few months." Though you spoke with a smile as if talking about the weather, it was easy to see the pain in your eyes. You thought denying the truth would make the hurt go away. But it wouldn't, Tommy knew it was only a matter of time before you broke. And like with Cyril, he felt like he was the one who needed to help. So he decided to play along for now, letting you keep your act up. Atleast until he could figure out the best way to fix the mess he still felt he'd made.
"You tell yourself it's the war eh? Do you write him letters."
"Yes, I write him one almost every day. But I haven't sent any. Did you know that I was rarely able to send them to him during the war. Something about his post being secretive, and no one should know where it really was. So I'd just... write a letter everyday and when I got a letter that his squad was resting at a safe camp every few months I'd just send the packet of them.... If I was lucky I'd get one back, but most of the time I just had to wait. I learned a lot about waiting then. I learned it was better to laugh too. Laughing helped me stay sane."
Standing up, Tommy began walking with you as you stepped deeper into the gardens.
"Laughing eh? Well I guess it's better than what I did. Almost drunk myself to the grave and then fucked off in a caravan with my son for a month. Seems you're handling it better than me."
You could only scoff at his response.
"Oh don't worry, there's been plenty of drinks for me too. I'm a happy drunk though, so I guess it helps my plan. After all, as long as I'm laughing, I don't have time to cry. I don't think I'll be able to stop crying the day I begin. So I'm just trying to hold off as long as I can."
"Aren't we all."
Silence fell in the garden again, and the two widowed souls walked back to the house. It was starting to get back and Tommy had noticed Finn's car pull up a few minutes ago. When you reached the back door you were met with a fluffy beast knocking you over as soon he'd caught sight of you. Cyril was happy to have at least one of his masters back. The man taking care of his now treated him well, but he still missed life with his old owners, even if he couldn't express it in words. 
While you reunited with Cyril and applauded Charlie on the tricks he taught the dog, Tommy went to gather some of Cyril's things and have Francis prepare a room for you. Tommy had no clue where you'd take the dog, but seeing as you seemed adamant about staying away from Margret, and apparently didn't despise Tommy (somehow), he thought it made sense to let you stay the night for a bit. And something still told him to convince you to stay even if just for one day.
On his was back down the stairs he noticed something sitting on the table and there was a click in his brain. He remembered the curiosity brought to him that morning during breakfast, and suddenly a lot of odd business meetings made sense. He finally realized who'd messed up the empty dirt patch that night two years ago. Grabbing the object off the table, Tommy headed back to the drawing room. Inside you were still petting your beloved dog, even though Finn had taken Charlie to get ready for bed. 
"Y/N, I went up to grab some of Cyril's things, but I think it may be better for you to spend the night here. It's getting late and I don't think either of us wants the dog getting hurt if you were to crash."
You laughed gently at his words, not caring to ask about the hand behind his back. Not thinking much about his words, you accepted his offer. You knew you should be mad at him, hate him, even what to kill him, but you couldn't. You were too tried to be mad at anyone right now. Besides, it wasn't like you knew where you were going anyway. You just wanted to see your...his dog again. Maybe if you had that little piece left, it would make it easier to move on. It would make it easier to pretend you weren't alone now.
"Alright. I'll stay. But only so Charlie can give Cyril a proper goodbye. I'd hate to tear them apart, it seems they've made close friends."
"They have," Tommy smiled, genuinely happy thinking of how closely his son had bonded with the dog. "Cyril's stuff is in Charlie's room now infact. They've taken such a liking, I can't keep them apart. We can get his stuff tomorrow, but I do have one thing I think you may want now."
You looked towards the Shelby man curious. "What is it?," you questioned.
Silently Tommy extended his hand to give you the object he'd snagged from the table.
It was a single rose... But something was different about it. The stem seemed to have grabbed something buried within the dirt to take along as it began to grow. Twisting and turning all the way out of the dirt, outwards towards the sun, as if offering the shiny object up. An ages old promise from the rose to the sun of an endless truth, never broken even in death...
The rose was offering his sun a ring.
And not just any ring. A wedding ring. Simple and worn, it had been stolen off a rich toff from a boxing match many years ago. It had survived work and war, seen blood and lust, and so many other things. And while the ring didn't define the marriage it represented a promise you thought you'd never see again. But here now, seeing how tightly the rose stem had grown around it, you knew you'd never have to worry about that again. Not even death could stop the love the rose proposed to his sun. Even in death he'd still offer her life.
You couldn't even take the rose from Tommy's hand before you finally broke. Laughing at the irony, Tears streamed down your face as you sunk to your knees, all the pain you'd been bottling up coming out. And thus you sobbed, hard. So hard in fact, it felt like you couldn't breathe. And you sobs were still mixed with laughter of disbelief as a million memories ran through your head, but none as loud as the one of that night and the morning after. 
Two years ago you'd lost that ring. Alfie promised that he'd look multiple times whenever he went back to the house, even if it meant having the meeting in the garden like "a bunch of prissy ladies at a fucking tea party" as he'd called it. And for two years he'd had no luck until now. But today, your rose had finally found the lost ring, even if you'd lost him months ago. 
Setting the rose gently on the table, Tommy sunk to his knees too. Letting you grab onto him, for a shoulder to mourn on. He knew you needed it. For so long you'd shut yourself away, denying the truth and trying to act like it didn't affect you. You wanted to pretend your world wasn't falling apart and now you couldn't any more. He'd been he same way, except he didn't have anyone to help him. He couldn't burden his one year old son with his grief and he knew most of his family still resented Grace to some degree. They hadn't been as destroyed by her passing as he had. He didn't want you to be alone like he had. For as many terrible thing as Tommy had done, he couldn't bring it upon himself to leave you alone now. And so he sat on the floor, holding you in his arms as the cracked dam finally broke. 
That night, until the early hours of the morning, Thomas Shelby sat comforting the wife of the man he'd killed. And he would until she'd fallen asleep, finally worn out from her grieving. In the morning he'd offer breakfast and they'd get to talking about the loves they lost. They were still both hurt and broken and mourning what they'd lost, but they weren't alone now. For two people so different they both knew what the other felt so deeply. Little snippets and stories about happier times, while watching a little boy play with a big dog, laughing as the pair rolled in the grass. And while both still grieved, there was a peace to be found in being with someone who knew how they felt. 
And while they talked, Y/N played with the ring on her finger. It was new and expensive and fit just right. This one was only two years old and didn't have many memories but she loved it just the same. And upstairs by her bed sat another ring, but this one was held tightly by a rose she'd placed in a vase. This was the ring that she loved more, and the one she really wanted to wear, but she couldn't bear to tear it from the rose just yet. She didn't know if she'd ever be able to. Maybe she'd let the rose dry out and preserve it like she use to do someone's at the flower shop when she was young. But for now she's let it live as it was.
Holding on tightly to a promise that not even death could divide...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
While all this happened a mailman was headed towards Birmingham with a letter from a dead man, asking about his dog and looking for his wife....
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drconstellation · 6 months
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More Half-and-Half-A-Miracle Thoughts
Part 2: The Dark side of Aziraphale
Updated 10 Nov 2023
Part 1: Miracle Power Ranking is here. Part 3: The Third Archangel is here
There was one that thing that struck me about the miracle working scene: why did Gabriel offer crossed hands to the duo?
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Gabriel offers his right, his good, heavenly angel-sided hand to Crowley first, and his left, his sinister-sided demon hand to Aziraphale.
And this is NOT an accident.
Its been observed that Gabriel, in his amnesiac state like this, has reverted back to a more base-state angelic being, one of joy, and love, and curiosity. He's acting on instinct here.
Yeah, that's exactly what I'm saying. The demon has more light in him than the angel, and Gabriel and can feel that instinctively. This really shouldn't be a surprise to us, its been in our face all along. Now don't get me wrong - Crowley is still a demon, and Aziraphale is still an angel, I'm not saying that they aren't. Mostly we talk about how Crowley isn't all that much of a demon at heart, just "going along with Hell as far as [he] can," but we don't really talk about much about that other side of Aziraphale other than wishing to see more of his BAMF! side.
You know what - its a side that thanks to all of the rest you ops and meta-ists out that that I've come to both fear and appreciate. And let me tell you, if I found myself in a dark alley on a bad night I would hope to God it was Crowley I bumped into , because I feel he would at least give me the choice to walk out alive. I don't think Aziraphale would, I would be at the mercy of how ever he decided he wanted to manipulate the situation...and I find that rather chilling.
Crowley might be the charred demon with a heart of gold, but Aziraphale is the two-sided bastard of an angel he loves. All bright light casts a shadow. Its easy for us to be blinded by the shining light of goodness and right and the side of God (er, hang on, isn't the GO God an eldritch horror in disguise...?) and not be able to see what is hiding behind it.
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We rarely see the back of Aziraphale's waistcoat, because he is rarely seen without an overcoat on, a covering of social propriety. There is the noticeable occasion in S2E1 when Crowley comes back to do the apology dance then they perform the hiding miracle (see screenshot below, and it was still hard to chose a good angle for all it went on for several minutes!) and perhaps in S1 when he spends all night reading Agnes Nutter's book. Both times its only in the privacy of the book shop, under the cover of night. So its easy to miss that the color of the back panel is a most un-angelic color: a dark viridian green. I know I keep banging on about this, but its important, and in more ways than one.
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[Edit: Since I first wrote this, I've written a mega-meta on all the colours in GO, and some of the following interpretation has changed a little - but the significance of the green still stands!]
All the angels wear some form of a pale colored neutral palette, ranging from white to beige to taupe (white, off-white shades and shades of brown,) with dove-grey for the known in-show seraphim, Gabriel, Michael, Uriel and Saraqael. Gold and blue are also associated with Heaven. But Aziraphale is the only angel to wear green and shades of blue-green. He's quite unique in that department.
The colors of Hell are completely different. Black, lots of black. And red, different shades of red. The demons are actually quite a colourful lot, but do tend towards the darker shades. Red is a colour of passion, not just a demonic colour, although it can be associated with the demonic sinister left hand side. The main colour of Hell is actually green - the thick green light that you almost of have to swim through in the crowded halls of Hell, and examples like the green stag on Furfur's sash. It represents chaos, in competition to the rigid lawful nature of Heaven.
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So while Aziraphale mostly presents a socially acceptable angelic front, its telling only Crowley has properly glimpsed that dark, shady, bit-of-a-bastard unpredictable side to him - and likes it. (More from Cobragardens about it here in 1793 Paris and 1601 at the Globe.) I mean, come on - this is a being that sent a man to his death so he could go on lunch date? A lunch date he practically concocted just so he could see Crowley. wtf? A being of love who was about to shoot the Antichrist to stop Armageddon? A being who quietly and efficiently discouraged the mafia who threatened to set the book shop on fire from ever returning? (See, told you I didn't want to meet him a dark alley...) Plus we saw him mind-control a whole roomful of people for his Jane Austen-themed ball, just to woo his beloved demon, with no thought of the possible collateral damage. I'm sorry, is this the same "guardian angel" we were all glowing over earlier?
The coat lapel as wings theory adds some weight to this hidden dark side of Aziraphale as well. Aziraphale's lapels always point downwards, towards Hell. Particularly when he has been discorporated and returned to Heaven, where frustrated about being told he has to gear up for war, he instead wonders out loud if he can return to Earth to a possess a body, reasoning that if demons can, he must be able to as well. lmoa! You are so not an angel, my dear! Yet...he isn't a demon either. He's almost...a bit of both. Two sides to a coin. A blend of light and dark. Shades of grey...although he doesn't like to admit it.
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Image by lomiel
Back to the shadow-like green panel on the back of the waistcoat.
Actually, on second thoughts, I'm going to put that in Part 3.
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clazcy · 25 days
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the personae & facets of mr. pilots (both of them) (this is solely about their characters) (the author of this post has did & understands it's a medical experience)
i already made my thing on tyler & the 3 of him (sort of about myself too but that's largely system based) but this will have more detail
(also first & foremost if you're in the seizure search for epilepsy block the #not epilepsy tag so my things will stop coming up. so sorry about that)
tyler tyler - host. author of the songs (mostly). the one we see performing, the son of nico.
blurryface - split from being seized by nico & the trauma that caused. author of goner from npi. bears nico's name but is also a 'blurry face' in the sense that he has no identity besides being controlled. therefore, he tries to control tyler/the body to cope. since he holds the dark thoughts of nico, he enacts those onto tyler. he is a persecutor.
clancy - ALSO split from the seizings but also off of blurry. different from tyler in the sense that's he's more violence focused, different from blurry in the sense that his anger is directed at the abusers. son[? or belongs to the district] of keons, in that sense. author of the album clancy & the letters. also a persecutor because he WILL take control to do whatever it takes to get his way (also he has significantly less of a moral compass).
okay josh
josh josh - this is josh <3 host like tyler & he is josh joshua william dun :) also the one who performs. we don't know his bishop.
spooky jim - same seizing split. however, as seen in choker & that one tweet, he also has some sort of power from this (this is not did canon compliant sadly :( ) & how he's using it depends on whether or not he's actively being seized/controlled (weaponized?). when he's not, it's for good, changing things to pink (happy fun colour!!!) etc. when he is, he's, well. he turned his loved ones into objects. i think this stems from insecurity of losing them (choker) vs changing things for the better (tweet, especially since tyler puts so much emphasis on changing hair to change/control self, it implies spooky was helping him regain control). i think this power is at least semi exclusive to spooky because it's blue, & the bishops use that as their :( colour.
torchbearer - re: clancy, but he's not violent. different path, leader of banditos et cetera. not free from anxiety, but significantly better at coping. i uh. headcanon he has the same power as spooky but uses it to light torches. that doesn't mean anything necessarily but i think it's cute.
questions this answers (kind of) & questions i answer
why is josh always blurry in photos?
a. this is tyler (collective) 's writing & i don't think he (in the story, as the character) realizes that josh is also collective. or
b. he does, but he (as clancy) doesn't see torchbearer (his only counterpart) as a person because he isn't violent. i feel like he's not ready to accept him.
c. something something psychosis they are one person all along fight club style. i hate this one (victim of forest fic) so i hope it isn't true.
who was the one in the trench mvs?
tyler i assume. he spent the longest in trench (within the collective) & has the most story with it.
who's the one in the overcompensate mv?
clancy boy
are there any more within the collectives?
probably not, since this is a story. however. the different facets/or outfits they wear/ways they sing you get it etc could also be different ones maybe. i don't think they are & if they are i doubt they matter as much.
i'm outta questions someone send me more so i can elaborate
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surplus-of-sarcasm · 9 months
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The 24th One
TW: Blood, guns, attempted murder, fear, pain, stitches, painful wound cleaning, emotional breakdown, threats, slightly flirtatious drama queen villain, male whumpee
"Take it easy," a firm, but somehow saccharine voice called out from Civilian's living room.
Treading lightly and letting out an involuntary sharp gasp, her gaze flitted over to a figure mostly hidden by the shadows, like a charcoal drawing, the first rays of the sun peeking through the sheer, half-open curtain outlining his edges.
"Who are you?" she questioned, going back into her room to fetch a gun from the safe.
She tiptoed into the room, fingers tightening on the weapon as she flicked off the safety.
Civilian was met with a soft, amused chuckle. "I thought the spandex would be telling," the man she now identified as Villain replied, practically slouching in her armchair like he owned the place.
Her breathing went shallower, and her face paled. The all-too-happy figure in a dark, form-fitting suit with heavily mussed up light brown hair lounging around in her living room was one of the city's most dangerous criminals. And she was all alone with him and a gun she barely used. She wished to curse the fact that she'd chosen to live somewhere quiet, right on the outskirts, closer to her job. It didn't seem all too convenient now, did it?
"I'm gonna need you to put that down, love," the villain crooned, voice gentle and silky, but the hint of warning in it wasn't lost on her, much like a rose with thorns scattered across its stalk in a subtle manner, but still not invisible to the keen eye.
"And why should I do that?" she challenged, strengthening her death grip on the gun, defiance ablaze in her eyes. She wished she was as brave as she might have looked.
Except that didn't matter because the criminal seemed entirely amused with the situation, raising an eyebrow and letting out a soft laugh, greyish blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight with mirth. "Ah, as much as I admire the courage, I'm not in the mood for any games, so put the gun down and don't even think about calling the police. Not that it would save you anyway," he growled. The playfulness was still there in his demeanour, but he didn't make an effort to mask the threatening air of his tone.
"I hope you don't think I'm joking," he drawled lazily, pulling out a gun of his own and training it on Civilian's face.
"No," she stage-whispered, trying to ignore the nausea washing over her and the tightness in her chest. She mentally cursed herself for not shooting him the second she'd recognised him.
But killing people was not like the movies. It isn't something you walk away from, something a good night's sleep, if you could even afford such a luxury, would help you forget. Only truly terrible people, like the villain in her armchair, she presumed, could treat murder as a mundane part of their daily routine, like how one regards brushing their teeth.
But now, she didn't hold an inkling of power on the crime lord because while the civilian might hesitate, might back out completely, he wouldn't.
And besides, he had goddamn superpowers at his disposal; he could create wind. She would have to be extremely lucky to get a hit on him, and that was never something she was willing to gamble over when it came to her life.
She pried for any weaknesses, anything to use against the villain, but all she saw was a calm, almost relaxed person and a deadly weapon in his merciless grip.
"You know I really didn't want to do this. In all honesty, it's been a while since I've seen a girl this cute," he supplied, and if she didn’t know better, Civilian would've sworn he actually sounded disappointed, "but I don't like having to repeat myself," he concluded, a slight downturn of his lip being the only indication of any negative emotion he may have felt, with nothing behind those cold, steel-coloured eyes.
He rose up from the chair, and panic gripped the civilian. Both of them shot and missed, except the villain cried out, letting out a sharp gasp as he fell to the floor, holding onto the chair's leg like a lifeline. His gun was hurled across the room with a loud clattering noise, far away from his grip. A nasty laceration across his his abdomen spurted out blood.
She wondered how he'd gotten hurt if no bullets had hit him, and when the sunlight moved further into the room, she noticed that he'd popped some poorly executed stitches with his sudden movements. He tried to use his powers to pull his gun closer but to no avail. The pathetic, little breeze he'd created could barely move a leaf. Apparently, his injury had affected his power tremendously.
For a moment there, Villain looked terrified. Frantically groping around for his gun, looking two seconds away from howling out in agony as he moved as fast as his injured body could handle. There were bruises on his face, no doubt from a previous fight, and his eyes were wide as saucers, his breathing laboured. He was now at Civilian's mercy, and he knew it. This was his end, no way around it. For a man the heroes said claimed to 'dance with death', he seemed incredibly frightened of it. For the first time that night, he looked unbearably human.
She didn't understand why some sort of misguided empathy had led her to crouch down to his level and ask, "Can you walk?"
"What?" he choked out, snapping his head up sharply at her. And as though the fear from before had never been, he clenched his jaw, contracted the muscles in his face to pull it into something stone-hard and expressionless, trying his hardest to pull his form up into a semi-standing position, holding onto the coffee table with a white-knuckled grip. He tried again for his powers, but they failed him once more. Still, she could see the hint of wariness in his eyes as his gaze trailed over to her gun.
She got up and threw it aside. "Goddamn it," she snarled, drawing in a sharp breath and exhaling slowly. Well, if she died for being foolhardy, at least it would be a noble death. However, she'd made sure to keep both guns in her room. No more chances.
The villain's eyes widened again, not out of fear, but out of shock, clearly not being used to any displays of kindness. She walked over to him, letting him put his arm around her shoulders, struggling to shoulder his weight. He was incredibly tall, lean muscles outlined by his suit. The civilian finally managed to get him over to the couch. "I'm a med school student, final year," she supplied, and he let out an overly exaggerated sigh of relief.
She would've smirked, but she caught herself. Don't get too familiar. "Friendly reminder that I don't have any anaesthesia on hand right now."
He simply responded with a scoff, rolling his eyes at her.
"Alright tough guy, how would you rate your pain on a scale of one to ten?" she asked, looking for a needle, thread and some antiseptic.
"Seven," he answered coolly. It still surprised her how he managed to preserve his composure while wounded like this, no wincing or shivers. But she reminded herself again that he was not a normal person.
Civilian unzipped the suit down to his abdomen, and the villain gave her an unbearably cocky grin, somehow managing to do that with blood snaking down from the ugly laceration on his body.
"Don't flatter yourself," she scolded, and she didn't understand why she'd said that, as though they were old friends used to exchanges full of banter. The civilian wondered if she'd become so secluded and terribly lonely that human interaction with anyone seemed appealing to her.
"Don't flatter me yourself with those eyes, love- ahggg!" The velvety tone and the lazy, half-lidded gaze were swiftly replaced with a sharp hiss as the villain squeezed his eyes shut, contracting and relaxing his muscles rhythmically to distract himself from the agonising sensation of the alcohol seeping into his wound, leaving his skin feeling like it was on fire.
"Easy, it'll be over soon," Civilian soothed awkwardly, unable to conceal the pang of sympathy she felt for him right now.
"Don't coddle me," he snapped, clearly more concerned with his wounded ego above anything else. Even beneath the smug smiles and stoicism, he clearly loathed the vulnerability. He hadn't been afraid of dying, she realised; he was afraid of dying in such a humiliating state.
Tragically poetic how he had the words 'Pride is my sin' tattooed on his right arm in all capitals, dark ink and a stylish font.
The civilian got him through the stitches, years of intensive studying and practice overriding her nervousness, stopping her hands from shaking the way they desperately wished to. Villain barely shivered or flinched during the process, and while he raised a sceptical eyebrow at her when she offered him a glass of water and painkillers, he swallowed them readily.
She washed her hands and threw him an icepack for the swollen bruises.
"I'm going to get ready for bed, and you should be uh, fine here," she supplied, gesturing to the couch with one hand as she zipped up the criminal's suit with the other.
"I guess this means I owe you a favour," he stated bluntly, a thoughtful, enigmatic look in his steely eyes.
"What?"
"I'm a crime lord, but that doesn't mean I'm a complete bastard," he reasoned, "you didn't kill me even when you had the chance. It's only fair."
"Why would I need a favour from you of all people?" She raised an eyebrow at him, moving a strand of ash blonde, wavy hair away from her eyes.
"In this city, you'll never know when you might need a favour from a guy like me. Anyway, take care of yourself, love." He sounded genuinely concerned, and the civilian hated it, so she awkwardly nodded at him.
When she got into the shower, finally away from the villain, her emotions came crashing down on her shoulders like solid rock. Her brave face in front of the villain had been a facade. She was terrified, incredibly guilty, all of the worst outcomes tormenting her mind in flurries of terrible thoughts. Try as she might, she couldn't stop the tears from streaming down her face. There was no going back now.
Civilian may have preferred to stay awake after sunrise, but she was too exhausted. Or actually, she wished to escape her hellish thoughts, and this was the fastest and easiest way to free herself from her shackles.
We all dream of being kind, of offering help to those in need, yet in an imperfect world, acts of kindness come with an expensive price, one not everyone is willing to pay. This hour's enemy is the next hour's victim, today's proud and cruel are tomorrow's weak and defenceless. But the beautiful irony of life is that no matter how far one runs away from it, vulnerability is a destined fate, written in stone, an unavoidable risk. It is the one thing in a person's nature that marks a human being as such.
Almost forgot, tagging for comfort fics: @roblingoblin285
✨️Le Taglist: @larinzz @syberianjade @lateuplight @altu-interactions @enbious-prince @astr0-mj @thelazywitchphotographer @a-fucking-simp-00 @addictedsandwhichaki @justalittlecorrupted @quaggasus @theangstyclown @vernilliom @mothmancommitsarson @starssabove @kurai-hono-blog @talkingsperm @muffinrebel44 @sunnynwanda @annablogsposts @cardboardarsonist @itsmyworld23 @onlywhump @shr3ya @crotchgoblin69 @wtfevenisausername @pendarling @avloki-pal
Wanna be on the taglist? This'll take you there!
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genderqueerdykes · 10 months
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Same anon as genderpunks/718697907650461696/ (why did Tumblr remove the ability for anons to use links in asks, it sucks), and actually yeah people here (and every social media frankly) are just weird about lighter skinned / "white passing" mixed people in general huh? Like, I've straight up seen people say that "if you're white passing, you shouldn't claim to be a person of colour"... and man it's really not as simple as they act
Sure, my skin is certainly quite a bit lighter than my late nan and some other family members, but that doesn't magically make me immune to racism. A white supremacist is still able to easily figure out I'm not white because of my facial features and incredibly curly hair, nevermind the fact my skin is still not as light as a large percentage of white people. And I'm not just talking outta my ass here, I've had far too many incredibly bad and/or suspicious experiences for it to just be a one-off or coincidence (hell, I went to a small primary school where basically everyone else was white, and the teachers would just... target me for everything and I was under the "troublesome" pupil program almost all my time there)
IDK, people need to take a step back and 1) stop acting like light skinned people and people who are otherwise disconnected from their racial heritage are magically immune to oppression, and 2) realise that people of colour have existed in Europe for centuries, and that we're victims of horrific shit happening and erasure. Europe isn't "just white people", that's just what the white supremacists who have tried to get rid of us want you to think
i literally couldn't have said it better, myself, u are so right on the money!
what ppl can't seem to grasp is y'all can only see glimpses of what's happening in the present. but when i was a kid, the white side of my family kept telling me i needed to get chemical hair straightening, because my hair was "ugly" and "needed to be fixed". my mom told me nonstop, up and down that it was "wrong". stylists still to this day ask me if i want my hair to be thinned, because i "must be so miserable with all that hair on my head".
my mom would spend hours telling me how "ugly" she found my dad and grandma's deep set eyes, hooded brows, dark eye circles, dark eyes, thick curly hair, and deep olive skin were. she would tell me how ugly these things were on me, but then tell me she was glad at least i turned out looking mostly like her.
i have been treated like shit since i was a kid for having a big nose, because "girls can't have big noses" and "my nose was too masculine for my face" and that my nose is "ugly" and "unsightly." i've been told up and down my entire life that i was "too ugly to be a girl" and just in general "ugly as hell" for, again, my deep-set eyes, hooded brow, dark eye circles, and whatever other features are not white enough for people.
thank you so much. like you said, just because we're light skinned doesn't magically make us immune to racism.
thank u for sending this. i am sorry you have been targeted for literally no reason other than your race by your fucking school... i hope things get a bit better for you here on out. i hope u have an amazing week, take care
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Text
Cw: queerphobia, racism, all sorts of bigotry, suicidal ideation
This one isn't about abuse. Well, not family abuse.
I really just have something very dark to say and don't want to worry anyone close to me but I need to voice it.
I'm... Honestly having a really hard time starting. Really just a hard time in general but...
I've disclosed that I am queer, as well as Indigenous, and I think I mentioned that I'm in Canada. If I didn't before, I did now.
The last... Like 6 years have just been getting increasingly harder and harder to have hope. Like period. I can mostly handle my own stuff in my personal life, but everything in the world...
This last weekend was a shooting at a queer club in Colorado. Club Q. During the trans week of visibility as well as the day before trans day of remembrance. I literally woke up to that being the first piece I saw.
Every day. I look at the US and I see the cesspool that hatred has started. Not in the whole country, mind you, but there are a handful of states I will absolutely never feel safe visiting. Laws where rights are taken away from women, laws taking away the rights of queer and trans kids. My heart breaks.
And so much more terrifying is the violence. The shootings, the murder... I'm scared. Because all of this is being pushed by hateful people with absolutely no regard for someone's life. And I don't understand this disconnect. At all. I just... I don't understand what makes lawmakers and loud GOP voices say horrifying hateful things towards groups of people, turning around to offering thoughts and prayers when their words spurred on terrorism. Call it what it is.
Except... That's not the biggest thing that scares me. What terrifies me is that we have people in Canada looking up to the GOP that yeah this is totally right and good. They've already tried to limit abortion access here, and don't get me started on one party's complete f*cking lack of support for a bill that would ban conversion therapy.
I live hyper aware of queerphobia and MMIWG2S. Because that's me. I'm AFAB, I'm Indigenous, I'm queer. And I live in fear. Every day. Covid just gave me the excuse to almost never leave the house honestly, and while I was concerned about it, it wasn't specifically seeking out someone who looks like me. But the hatred...
And I know why it scares me. My own past, I have people that just simply don't respect me because I'm Indigenous, or queer, or AFAB. And I am so terrified that that line of where they stop with that hatred will blur and they will move to violence. And honestly, it doesn't exactly seem too far off when you look at some of the terrorist events in the last few years.
All of this also makes my relationship with my own su*cidal ideation really f*cking weird. Just... So weird.
For the most part, I have a handle on it. I'm not planning daily how to... You know. I'm just kind of wishing for some sort of freak accident that takes me out or I just don't wake up. I heard someone else recently describe this in a podcast, the wanting to die but not necessarily doing anything about it. I honestly don't think that's talked about enough.
Now, there's a million reasons I don't want to die. For one, spite. If you think I'm letting certain people outlive me by my choosing, f*ck no. For another, having lost multiple people to this... It has a very different impact on you. Yeah sure, everyone is sad when it happens, but there's also the survivor's guilt. I also have this weird jealousy and this anger, and also a kind of happiness for them. Especially that they weren't around for this sh*t show. And often times, all of these feelings and more all at once.
Which culminates in the feeling of I don't want to live on this planet anymore.
I honestly don't see a lot of hope. And one of the worst part is is that those who hate are never, and will never be willing to sit down and have a conversation with someone who they hate just because of the colour of their skin, or who they're attracted to, or their gender, or whatever the fuck else.
I actually got really mad at a podcast clip I saw yesterday, to the point I almost threw my phone across the room. It was two men talking, one was trying to read a study of toxic masculinity. I'm not going into the intracacies of that right now. The other man WOULD NOT LET HIM because a person in anti-depressants shouldn't be educating people about being happy. He said very close to those words.
I had another thing of terrible news as well on Sunday. A few people in Saskatoon had posted that their police service has still been continuing the practice of starlight tours. Look up Neil Stonechild or starlight tours yourself cuz I just... Don't have this one in me today. And I didn't even learn about these growing up. That's pretty f*cked up in hindsight but I guess, AFAB probably doesn't make that cut.
I keep trying really hard to hold out hope that we can teach hateful and insecure people empathy. It's... So f*cking hard though. There comes a point where you give up. That's how Black Lives Matter really grew, the reason Idle No More got started... So many hurt people trying to just be heard and trying to not hurt others along the way. And the other side just sticks their fingers in their ears, closes their eyes, and puts violence in the minds of their followers who in turn pull the trigger.
I don't have a lot of hope left. And I'm scared of what will happen when I run out completely, and so much more scared that that seems to be going so much faster than I thought it would. And a part of me is hoping that my current medical problems will result in taking that option away from me. I'm just... So tired.
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amee-racle-ofmyown · 4 years
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I decided to colour one of my blixer doodles! I'm pretty satisfied with how it turned out!
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Please consider reblogging if you like this it took me too long to do
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overlordred said: Heyyyyyyyyyy Doll Face, it me again 🥸🤓, so I saw that you’ve had Porco on the brain and it made something in my brain click again. I don’t know what it is with my need for characters with devoted animal companions but it’s just my thing. Like Porco’s S/O has had her tortoise since she was a kid and it’s HUGE now and since I’m sure you’ve mentioned Udo loves turtles, in a last ditch effort to keep the kids occupied while babysitting them Porco’s like I have a turtle and the kids just lose their minds from this tortoise (who for some reason has a name like Speed or something 😆) If you don’t see it I very much respect that but I just thought I’d share lol. I hope you’re having a beautiful day and good fortune smiles on you. Laters!
Porco & you babysitting pt.2
{ Porco x reader | tw:none | fluff, light drama | modern }
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{ "De Forest Interior" 1878 by Walter L. Palmer  1854-1932 }
"What's wrong?" He said with a frown, stepping back to give you space. "Did i do som-"
"No. It's just that…" you interrupted him, "Porco, what are we exactly? Is this a relationship or are we just friends wit-" 
Before you could finish, a high pitched scream came from where the kids were, snapping your attention to the closed door. Porco was the first to move, not wasting a second in pushing it open before hurrying to the living room, you followed behind.
The room was dark, with the tv blue screen illuminating it, whatever was on it was forcefully turned off. It was mostly quiet except for the shallow breathing you'd hear the closer you got to the couch.
Your eyes landed on a small figure, curled into a ball beside the couch, wasn't it for his glasses reflecting the tv light you wouldn't have spotted him.
Before Porco would trip and fall on his face, you flicked the light switch on, so he could avoid the pillows littering the floor.
Udo was looking sickeningly pale, glasses pushed to his head with his face buried in his arms while hugging himself.
Falco was kneeling to him, hands visibly shaking as he tried to soothe the other, growing more nervous as you approached them. "We… we were playing this game and then this-" he hiccuped between his stuttering as he tried to explain what happened.
Porco quickly carried Udo who clung to him like his life depended on it while Falco continued trying his best to form coherent sentences.
You went around the couch where the other two were. Gabi was hugging a pillow in a tight grip, eyes damp as if she's holding back tears while glaring at the floor to avoid meeting your eyes.
She only shook her head when you asked if she's okay.
Meanwhile, Zofia was just...sitting still, too still. Her stare blank and empty at the tv screen, keeping silent and barely acknowledging you when you approached her.
Part of you felt responsible for leaving the kids alone with a horror game when seeing their state now.
"Let's just move them to the kitchen, it'll be okay. Can you carry Zofia?" Porco said with Udo in his arm as Falco trailed after him while clutching his shirt.
You nodded before going to pick her up, she didn't resist but she seemed too stiff and uncomfortable. 
Falco actually came back to hold Gabi's hand and guide her with him after Porco, she took her pillow with her too.
When All of them were huddled in their chairs near the table, you could clearly see how visibly shaken they were.
You attempted to soothe them as Porco gave them some cookies and milk that they drowned quickly.
After time, reassurance and Porco lighting up the mood by making some snarky comments about the horror game they were playing that got them giggling, they slowly calmed down.
Falco was the first to feel better
Gabi soon enough followed. 
He was telling Porco about how he got the highest score in the game so far which made Gabi object and say she's the one who got the highest score, soon enough forgetting why she was scared in the first place.
They started another fight that basically was one saying "no you didn't!" and the other replying with "yes i did!!" over and over.
That actually managed to make Zofia laugh, more at them than with them. 
The only one left who hasn't spoken a word since the beginning was Udo.
Still holding onto Porco with shaky hands.
You and Porco watched as the three of them attempted to cheer him up, each with their unique way.
Gabi saying it's okay he shouldn't be scared because she will protect him and beat up the scary monster if it showed up.
No one dared to bring up the pillow on the table.
Falco said they can just go back and watch some Minecraft let's play instead.
It almost worked but the mention of going back to the living room made Udo even more scared.
Zofia suggested that they can play some animal crossing together and she'd even water all his flowers for him.
That made him perk up, only to frown again when he realised he forgot his switch at Reiner's place.
They kept listing off suggestions but nothing seemed to work or make him smile.
And the fact he still was actually scared and shaking made you and Porco more concerned by the second.
And then Falco said, "maybe we should...call his mom, she usually knows what to-" 
"Absolutely not" only to be interrupted by Zofia, "she'd never allow him another sleepover for at least a month."
You and Porco shared a look, as the adults in this situation it was your responsibility to make sure he's safe and call someone who knows what to do. 
Holding Udo closer to him with one arm while the other reached for his phone from his pocket, Porco scrolled through his saved contacts. "I think i have his mother's number saved somewhere...here it is, ms-"
In a quick motion, Zofia snatched his phone away. Surprisingly not only you but Falco and Gabi too with her strong reaction.
"No. You don't understand she won't allow him near us again." She explained in a firm tone, grip strong against the phone while looking at Porco in the eye. "Call Reiner instead."
Porco stiffened at the mention of the other's name, a sour look on his face. He was about to refuse but seeing at Zofia's pleading eyes made him stop at the last second.
He looked at you, you gave him a nod.
"Fine." He caved in, running a hand through his hair, "I won't call her, I promise.". 
Some seconds passed by as Zofia was eyeing him to determine if he's telling the truth, her grip only softening when her gaze fell on Udo who's still clutching the other's shirt. She reluctantly handed him the phone.
You watch the weirdly intense scene unfold, unsure if you should say something or not.
In the end, you decided not to interrupted. Although noticing how unusually quiet Gabi and Falco were, you realised that they weren't even in the room anymore.
Porco seemed too busy glaring at the air while murmuring something under his breath as the phone rang, while Zofia had her full attention on Udo.
Thankfully, you didn't have to say anything since Both Gabi and Falco came running back into the kuchen, huge smiles on their faces.
"Udo! Udo you won't believe this, there's this giant turtle in Porco’s room!" Falco yelled in excitement.
"It's this big!" Gabi stretched her arms as wide as she can, "and it's black all over with yellow dots! It looks so cool!"
That seemed to get Udo's attention, slowly turning his head from where he was burying it against Porco’s now ruined shirt.
"Really?" He whispered, eyes hopeful and colour returning to his face.
"You went inside my room?" Porco said, alert in his voice.
"What?" Came a voice from his phone, "why would you call me to ask that?...no i didn't. Are the kids okay? I can hear them yelling." Reiner said.
Apparently, that was what it took for Udo to finally calm down.
You watched as Gabi and Udo sat on the ground, faces pressed against the tank glass while attempting to coax the shy turtle out of hiding.
"Her name is lady dash, and if you step back and stop scaring her like that then i might let you feed her some meat." Porco said.
With that, both of them were under lady dash's love spell in no time. 
Gabi thought she was the coolest thing in the world, Udo agreed while counting the yellow dots on her shell.
Keeping true to his word, Porco let them give her some food.
They watched with anticipation as she emerged from the shallow water, slowly gliding towards the food.
They both held their breath as she extended her neck, opening her mouth as wide as she can before taking a big bite of the meat, slowly munching on the piece she cut off.
As soon as it ended, they turned around begging Porco for more food to give her.
Zofia and Falco joined too complaining that it isn’t fair since they didn't have a turn.
Porco looked at you for support, you just smiled before saying how come you don't get a turn too?
In the end he gave you all strawberries to give her to munch on.
After that roller coster of emotions, it came no surprise that the kids started getting sleepy and yawning, having used all their sugar energy from ice cream in the previous freak out.
If there's something you know, is that you should never tell a kid that needs a nap, that they need a nap.
Never ever.
Apparently Porco didn't know that.
And now you have four sleepy kids being defensive and offended that you'd even suggest that.
Thankfully tho, they seemed too tired to agru too much as they decided to finally sleep.
Gabi said she isn't even tried, she's only joining because Falco wouldn't stop whining.
Udo and Zofia agreed, despite the three of them being minutes from dozing off.
Falco ended up being their excuse for a nap, but he didn't complain...too much.
Realising that there's still two hours remaining before Reiner comes to pick them up, Porco seemed too eager to get them to sleep to get some time alone with you.
Hell he even grabbed the blankets and pillows and made them makeshift beds in the living room himself just so him and you can go back to his room alone.
"What…no we're not sleeping there." Said Gabi, standing in the middle of the doorway to the living room, arms crossed as the other three stood behind her.
"Yeah...it's still scary." Added Udo, stepping closer to Zofia. 
"Can we just sleep in your bed instead? Please?" Falco too was hiding behind Gabi, eyes avoiding the tv at any cost.
Porco gave a stern look, lifting an eyebrow as he too crossed his arms. "No. You're big kids you can handle it." 
"If you say so" Zofia poked her head from behind Gabi, "although, it'd be a shame if these pictures of Udo crying, Gabi drinking energy drinks and Falco eating a hot pepper pizza reached Reiner huh." 
And in that moment, you remembered exactly the fimilar sense of unease you felt about these kids some hours ago. 
You looked at Porco’s unbelieving eyes, knowing fully well he must accept this defeat gracefully. 
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smutty-ki113r · 3 years
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I woke up to my alarm tellin me to get out of bed and so naturally I checked your tumblr and I'm,,, concerned
There's a small anon war over what hoodie smells like and I have no sense of smell whatsoever so I'm not contributin, but, leafs.
Petition to change the plural of leaf to leafs instead of leaves. Leaves is an ugly ass word. Leafs just rolls of the tongue, its nicer, its what the people want
Also the same with sheep like what, why is the plural the same, I refer to them as sheeps cuz it makes me happy
Also I don't like the y/n either because "y/n" is usually a whole ass person all in itself. And they're usually a girl in most fanfic, along with the fact that they are the Mariest Sue That Ever Mary Sue'd.
I've been considerin why LJ is my favourite and I think it's purely because if any of the more sane (Masky, Toby, Slenderman, etc) took one fuckin GLANCE they would run away. I have hope that clown boy is too far gone to care about my mental state too much.
If you squint real hard my braincell count looks like a normal amount
I'm so exhausted I'm gonna talk to you, my favourite online human, because the blue light from my phone keeps me awake.
But I think my favourite dynamic ever is Rivals to Lovers™. Not enemies to lovers, cuz enemies have two different goals in mind; whereas rivals compete for the same thing.
I'm a sucker for medieval shit so,, a scene that's been annoying me all day is~
you're invited to a Royal Ball (because isn't that how all romances start these days, just roll with it brother) and you go, finding out it's a masquerade ball. You get there, you dance, being passed from person to person in a never ending loop of jewel-embeded skirts that were swept across the marble floor of the (obscenely) bedazzled castle, and suits that seemed more expensive than you were.
Regret never came because the wine chased it away; it flowed in waterfalls into your glass, the scent of it filling the room but not enough to drown out the everlasting smell of expensive perfume. Sometimes the odor of it clung to the women of the ball tighter than their corsets. The massive drapes were pulled back, latching to the wall in attempt to keep them from falling and blocking the view–of which captured your gaze immediately. The doors were swung open to let the air in, and ensuring that no glass got in the way of what lay beyond; the moon, full and impossibly heavy hung, stranded in the crisp night air. The moon was the only one that didn't judge the events that took place in the ballroom that night, the only thing watching the crowd of people with a pure, impassive gaze.
Because later that night, after multiple drinks had been passed around and a cacophony of laughter, dancing, and food had been consumed–after many glasses of wine had passed your lips and your body– of which was feeling tingly and impishly confident–had wandered to a far corner, darkened by the domed ceiling, seemingly on its own accord. In that moment you would give everything to stay in the Palace, to twirl until your feet blistered and you withered away into old gnarled bones and ashes that could still dance with the wind.
"I do hope that you know well what you wish for; not for clarity of the concept, my dear, but for clarity of consequence." The voice that spoke in your ear was deep, low, and held even darker undertones. It siezed your attention and captured it in both hands, strangling the curiosity out of you. It had come from your right, even further into the pitch-black corner, but as soon as you moved all the thoughts in your head sloshed about, banging against the interior of your head. It was either equivelant to that or a sledge hammer, one of the two. The wine was probably just twisting the voice's around you, making them appear. You tried to convince yourself but alas, even you deemed it vastly unlikely.
Turning around was more difficult then you planned. Just when you thought you would see the owner of the voice, nobody was there. Yep, probably just the abundance of alcohol making you dizzy.
Shifting back to dancing wasn't hard; it was as if you were floating down along a stream, merely following wherever the river took you. Voices pressed against you on all sides, soon becoming a background noise too, a faint buzzing sound. It rose and fell like the waves, ever-changing in volume.
You started to lose a grip on reality; eyes fluttering closed as you danced, just taking a breath of air, letting the delicate night wash away your worries, who you wer–
What the fuck!?
You did a double take, eyes now wide fucking open, because outside you spied someone that had to be atleast a foot taller than anyone else in the ball. The darkness seemed to congregate behind it, flourishing, and the only thing you could see was a wide smile and a pair of eyes.
It seemed that you couldn't get enough air into your lungs, couldn't focus; the voice's that used to be hazy surround sound was now piercingly loud the people were just too much, everywhere at once. Your breathing only picked up even more as you gripped your chest.
The.. Demon had disappeared by the time you glanced upward, you you scurried outside, barely making it before you collapsed on a golden railing. There were fine drops of rain scattered about, eluding to the fact it had rained earlier. Your masquerade costume was getting wet, leaning against the railing, but you were so dizzy you didn't care.
It was the wine, it had to be. Nobody could be that tall, it–it was humanly impossible. Moving was now akin to attempting to romp through thick syrup; a stagnant pace, uncoordinated, unsteady. Then it stopped. There was a hand on your shoulder.
You skimmed the person; they had a dark blue suit that sparkled with the occasional gold highlights, with a blue mask covering their face–it seemed that it covered all of their face, and didn't quite match what a masquarade mask should look like, but you didn't care. The support was welcomed.
"You seemed as if you required help, my Lady," He said, his voice deep and low, so much so that you questioned if you would even be able to hear him over the music blaring in the ballroom if the two of you were to venture back inside.
You looked back to where you saw the tall being, with its eyes and smile that seemed wrong, and wrong in a terrible, dangerous way.
"Care to dance with me?" You asked, relieved when he slipped his arm with yours and led you inside. The music had slowed to a waltz, nothing like the big parade of dancers that came in flurries of colour and left just as fast. His arms were solid and a comfort, welcome as the breeze on a sunny day. It felt like he protected you from everything that might have caught you off guard, in a way. Plus, he kept you from falling flat on my face, which is always a good thing.
The song changed and you were about to ask him for something else; his name, maybe, but fate had other plans. Both of you were bumped and somebody else had picked you up in their arms, hands landing on your waist as the dance consumed you. Your mystery man in blue was gone, it seemed, and you sighed. Being safe was a hard thing to ask. Instead, above you now was a man dressed in dark browns and yellows– he had a rather strange mask that curled around his mouth and eyes, leaving the centre free. His brown locks looked ruffled and messy and he jerked every once in a while, moving sporadically. It didn't stop and he didn't seem to be able to control it so you didn't mind. The slight jolts emitting from him caused you to wake up more, which was always welcome.
"Are you okay?" You asked, after his gaze had wandered elsewhere. It came back to you in a heartbeat, and you sensed be was smiling under the mask.
He twirled you, spinning you gracefully. "Of course I am," he said, coming in close again. "For now, I'm winning."
The night surged on quickly and you found yourself caught between multiple strangle figures; a woman with silky black hair and a mask that made her eyes appear the same colour, that offered you a drink that wasn't wine. A man that had offered you wine, that stood next to the big buffet table with a full glass and a white mask. He had stood with a black-masked man, but he weaved through the crowd until he was another string in a pile of wool. Your blue mystery man made another appearance, but not with you–he was talking in low tones with another man (you didn't mind that they were mostly men; seemingly just because it never occurred to you that they might be connected) who had black hair, like the other woman, and pale white skin. The palest you'd seen in a long time. However, at that moment, he had looked up and seen you staring, only for you to catch scars at the ends of his mouth. You crossed it down to makeup or a deformity of some kind. Through all this, you were atleast grateful you didn't see the tall being again.
And everything carried on. Until it didn't. Blood stained the carpet black and the screams were too loud to ever fade away, seeming to shake the walls. You had tried to run from it, from them, but you tripled in a hallway and couldn't even get up because of your many glasses of alcohol. Struggling was futile and someone easily pulled you back.
With horror you realised it was one of the men from before; you recognised the scruffy brown hair and occasional movements. He held you there, between life and death a moment more, a moment where all the men you'd seen that night, and the woman, came around the corner. Their voices were distorted to your damaged ears but your eyes focused on the tall being; he was real, and black and white, with hands that weren't normal and a nose that was even less so. They're all abnormal, your consciousness whispered to you, and you believed it. The man on top of you grinned, happy that he had caught you. Your stomach turned.
"Bring them to the Mansion," a voice ring out in your head. Your 'companions' seemed to hear it too. "And bring them alive."
As you can see I've never written anythin in my life so this is shit lmfao but I don't care an im just here to brainstorm anyways
Have my little scene, take it, because it was fun to do. It's not spellchecked, I've not read through it, because I can't be bothered, so if anythin is wrong laugh and move on brother. Also tryin to write without cuttin off the g from my words and shortenin them was so hard so halfway through I didn't bother lmao
I think this is my longest message yet so, sorry about that Red
Cheers if you actually made it this far.
–Kieran.
I agree. Leafs is better. SHEEPS- thats the cutest thing I’ve ever heard and I love it.
Y/n is a stereotype in itself so I agree, it’s usually ya know, the whole “im different” kind of chick who can do everything and anything (basically bella from twilight), when in reality the reader is human and humans have imperfections. Lots of ‘m …LJ is my fav for a lot of reasons, at this point he’s a comfort to me. Plus, I (oml) relate to him so much, and I can do a post about this- if someone cares or asks. And I have similar traumaaa
Oh geez, I’m your favorite online human, AGH my heart, again, its burning. I agree, RIVALS TO LOVERS SOUNDS SO SOSOSOOSO GOOD I LOVE IT. (I would say my fav trope is “lovers who ache to be together but due to circumstance one starts to lose feeling for the other and it’s an agonizing pain to the other” or maybe that’s just me because I find completion in sadness, which is horrific. But I really itch to angst.)
Here’s me reading your scene and also talking about it at the same time. ‘Regret never came because the wine chased it away’…that’s a good line, thats a good line. The way you just take one thing and mash it with another aspect like wow. Like as each idea were droplets of water on a leafs and you happen to tilt it, connecting them so effortlessly. I’m jealous. The descriptions are amazing, and how you make it the reader’s thought process-damn. I WANNA WRITE THIS GOOD, YALL OUTSHINE ME. And then you say this was shit. *slaps you* DONT YOU DARE UNDESESTIMATE YOURSELF MISTER
Also the way you just subconsciously cut off the g’s is spectacular. I try to, but it’s hard for me. SORRY? SORRY?! Nononono thank you, because the longer the message the better. Apart from the fact that long messages make me happy, especially from you, it means you put time into talking to me! Which makes me super happy too. Heheheh. Thank you love! This made my morning, along with that drawing submission from cam anon, you should check it out! It’s really good.
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artificialqueens · 2 years
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Let's Take Over The World, Hand In Hand, 2/21 (Taywhora) - M8existing
A/N: Finally have my second chapter! I hope you enjoy it! Life has mostly calmed down, so expect updates every week or fortnight (posting on weekends) for the next 10 chapters! Chapter name was random, and Tayce sings Warm Pants by Dua Saleh.
Concrit welcome. I love reading any comments if you have time! I just want to improve my writing!
This story is part 2 of the “Love you, Stupid” Series
You can read my series on Ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2683612
***
Chapter 2 Summary: Chaotic Squad Goals
Aurora works her monotonous day job and tries to suppress her crush on the hyper and beautiful welshie. Tayce takes her shopping and bares all in the change room.
She inspects a future potential home with her college bestie, Ellie. And they are not ready for the chaotic mess that ensues. If she thought Tayce was a lot to handle, then this home full of potential and a very tipsy squad is a different beast.
***
It is a perfectly mundane day at work, and for a living, Aurora sells designer goods at Gucci in a shopping centre. With a perfect smile, perfectly dry cleaned black and white skirt suit combo with red lipstick and cat eyeliner, all matching the expectations of company policy. Perfection.
  Be polite, dashing, try to upsell, and use cold sales tactics. The customer doesn't want to hear about the new perfume? Well, tough shit. And when the customer is being a cunt, make that smile bigger.
  And today is business as usual.
  Smiling whilst listening to a customer moan about how hard life is, with a husband who pays for everything. Then, nodding politely and giving an appropriate giggle whilst the customer tries on a shitload of clothing.
  Trying not to roll her eyes when a guy comes in asking what the cheapest clothing item is for a partner. Aurora shows him the accessories, and his jaw drops at the prices.
  Apologising profusely while a customer complains about not having the larger size available in store. Aurora silently agrees, already suggesting that to management.
  Biting her tongue as she smiles at a beautiful woman in an immaculate Chanel suit. Who treats Aurora like the dirt on her shoe whilst demanding a size up in those absolutely gorgeous horse buckle heels that Aurora dreams she could afford. And of course, this bitch is buying the matching bag.
  Retail is irritating, but it pays the bills. And the manager treats her well, letting her take time off for fashion internships on short notice.
  Thankfully it was finally break time. And her bestie from college, Ellie, works at the Sephora across the way.
  "See ya in an hour!" Aurora waves to her co-worker and briskly marches to Sephora, desperately needing to bitch after her encounters today.
  "Well, ello ello Miss DD. How are we doing?" Aurora reaches her station in-store, leaning against a podium and watching the impossibly tall blonde pack up her stuff.
  “Hiya A’whora. Oh my God. Fuck this day. Sushi?” Ellie says with her thick Scottish accent, making kissy faces.
  “Oh God, yes!” Aurora just grunts loudly.
  They make their way to their favourite sushi shop located on the other side of the shopping centre, walking quickly whilst bitching about work. Aurora always feels like a child holding her taller friends big hands, Ellie towering over her. The shopping centre is freshly refurbished, looking way posh and modern than it did before. With white and red marble flooring, crisp white walls and dark wood accents decorating sections.
  They manage to secure booth seating today, walking through the sushi shop that tries too hard to be modern and trendy. It has neon blue and black walls, with the plate prices decorating the walls in colourful splotches. But it fits with the overall vibe of this central London shopping centre.
  Ellie starts grabbing random plates of chicken sushi and spring rolls from the yellow conveyor belt and Aurora uses the pink iPad to order the salmon sashimi, miso soup and edamame. She isn't working out until late, so she plans to eat carbs at dinner.
  "My God, the audacity of that twat in the Tweed suit though. Treating me like the shit whilst spending three thousand quid. Thank fuck for commissions. Ugh," Aurora throws her head back in frustration.
  "Girl. I think I had the same bitch, did that makeup. She was just silent, asking for a red lip and nude smokey eye. Icy slag," Ellie rolls her baby blue eyes, always adorned with flawless, bright eyeshadows.
  "Bitches. I can’t wait to be done with retail. I hate serving people,” Aurora sighs, munching on some edamame, “I just want to let my creative juices flow, y’know!”
  Ellie sighs as well, “I totally feel the same. At least I can be kinda creative doing makeup, but every chick wants the same basic natural look… it is so boring! I want to work for theatre!”
  "You will get there, Els! They can’t deny the reputation of the Dirty Diamond much longer,” Aurora wiggles her brows and they both giggle. Both perfectly aware of what sparks joy for Ellie, “By the way, I will be interning at Fashion Week soon, so you won't see me for a minute."
  Ellie intertwines their fingers, "Ugh, I'll miss you! At least you're getting into fashion. I feel like I'm so far from theatre costuming."
  "It sounds good, but honestly, running around dressing models, organising coffee and snacks, making sure shit fits. I don't love it. But alas, a necessary evil to get into design,” Aurora is finally given her sashimi order and she relishes the deliciousness of the first bite of raw salmon. “You should apply to do makeup. It will be stressful as fuck, but it could be a good reference for theatre."
  "Mmm, you're a smart one, A’whora. Have ta admit would probably be good on a resume. Do you have a contact?” Ellie replies, grabbing her phone out, and Aurora types her contact from Vivienne Westwood in, figuring she will know what to do.
  Realising their break will end soon, they pick up the pace.
  “By the way, are you still good to check out the house next Friday after work? Tayce said most of the girls are home that afternoon, so we can scope the vibes and get drinks," Aurora gulps down some miso soup.
  Ellie continues inhaling chicken sushi, "Oh babe, I am so keen. The place looks nice and so much cheaper than the two beds we have been checking out. And having my own bathroom sounds amazing. Oh, and living with hot girls. Love it!"
  Aurora giggles at Ellie's narrow mind and scoffs her last pieces of sashimi, “Mmm, it’ll be lush. We should grab a snack on Friday at Owlies then catch the tube over.”
  “Sounds good!” Ellie grabs her wallet, and they approach the counter.
  They finish lunch with barely anytime to spare and rush across the shopping centre to their stores, knowing they have five minutes before they're late. Both buzzing with excitement to meet their potential squad for the next few years.
  ***
  "Oi oi saveloy!" Tayce skips over to the Gucci storefront, looking cool as always in a black ensemble - a fluffy coat, combat boots, stockings and a turtle neck knit dress. She looks gorgeous with long blonde hair bouncing around and green contact lenses. And Aurora can't help but have a stupid grin whenever she sees that radiant smile and feels those skinny arms squeeze her. Tayce always sways her side to side when they hug.
  Since Aurora predicts Tayce would be late, she changes into a fitted turtleneck, leather beret and jeans beforehand. Not wanting to walk around London in that stiff suit. Her lipstick is now her signature nude as well. It’s Aurora’s go to look since it compliments her legs, makes her waist look smaller and her boobs bigger. And considering she wears heels during work, changing into the comfort of her boots is always a sweet reprieve.
  "Oi oi! What's with the blonde hair and contacts? It's cute," Aurora asks, realising she has never seen Tayce wearing a wig in person.
  "Oh, this little persona? I call her Patricia. And she is an angry slag,” Tayce gives a cheeky giggle and spins on the spot, “I need bad bitch energy to deal with all the drunks! And I have work later and need to buy a new top for tonight.”
  Aurora admires how the honey blonde beautifully compliments her skin tone, “Patrica is pretty hot. We’ll see what we can do. Where are we heading?”
  “Cyber. Unless you know another place?”
  “Not my style, so no clue,” Aurora simply replies, feeling Tayce interlock their fingers to drag her along.
  “Sweet. Come on then, chookie. Critique the vibes and make sure I look ready to kick someone in the head," Tayce leads them out the entry doors, and it is miserable.
  It is bloody freezing outside, the weather dreary with an endless drizzle. Tayce clinging to her side with a massive umbrella overhead. Despite the weather, Tayce is still easily distracted on the way to the other shopping centre, stopping by any window fronts to admire clothes and talking a million miles a minute.
  Tayce is quite chaotic. Always a heap of fun but unpredictable. She keeps Aurora on her toes, and Aurora quickly learns how to calm her and catch her attention.
  During Christmas, Tayce felt like a different person. Sure, they have plenty of silly moments and talk shit, but Tayce was chill. The aura around her was soothing. They would relax and watch shows quietly, Tayce was more the listener, and their conversations drift to a deeper place. And she would cuddle close and play with her hair. Always asking if she needs anything.
  They still have some serious moments, but her aura is now impossibly playful. Rarely a serious bone or thought insight. Easy to distract if they watch a movie, running off to look at every little thing and detail. Expounding wild stories and yelling shit randomly. It’s hysterical. Perhaps it's because she doesn’t work until the night, so she has more energy than usual. It’s not that Aurora minds. She just wishes there was a balance to the energies.
  They finally get to the other shopping centre, shaking the excess water off their coats and enjoying the heaters. And there it is, spread across the entry wall. A beautiful Prada Valentines campaign, Tayce is instantly recognisable.
  "Oh my god, it's my campaign! Ah, I love it!!" Tayce jumps up and down quickly, clapping her hands. Her smile is massive.
  The campaign images are separate 'polaroid' images of couples on a black background. They are all styled in eccentric coats, baggy outfits, and they pose with different styles of bags and shoes that are part of the Valentines collection. The theme is black, red and pink. And in the centre polaroid, Tayce looks absolutely breathtaking in a Clueless inspired looking blue mini skirt and blazer. Laying on a pink and red picnic blanket, with a bouquet of roses and a heart box of chocolate in the frame.
  Tayce's back leans back on another model's chest, who is resting against a brick wall. Tayce’s lean legs look even longer than normal, wearing thigh high socks, patent red platform heels with a matching heart handbag on her lap. Tayce is utterly captivating with that massive smile, her delicate fingers holding the other model's hand against her chest. Her deep skin looks beautiful against her pale partners. And they pose like a loving couple.
  The other model has the same shoes and bag, but in pastel pink, her outfit like Tayce’s in pastel green with her beautiful auburn hair flicked over her shoulder. Her head is leaning against Tayce's, and she has a recognisable coy smile, plump lips, and pale blue eyes piercing the camera.
  And holy shit, the other model is Gigi Goode.
  "Wait, Tayce, you know the Gigi Goode!? Was Symone there?" Aurora asks incredulously, even though it makes sense that two of America’s hottest models would be in a Prada campaign.
  "Nah, Symone wasn't there. Gigi is proper fun, though. Surprisingly good banter considering they're American, and said they couldn't understand half the shit leaving my mouth," Tayce is nonchalant but runs her fingers over her picture.
  They admire the campaign for a few minutes, and Aurora is still in awe that Tayce got to spend time with one of America's hottest models. But turning and watching Tayce, the way her eyes twinkle, looking at her campaign with that perfect smile, Aurora can’t help but embrace her.
  “I’m so proud of you,” She nuzzles Tayce’s neck. Her smell is soothing and fuck. Her best friend is too cute.
  "Thanks, boo boo. It is my first major campaign so I’m pretty giddy, y’know. Can you please take some pics for my Gram?" Tayce asks.
  "Course missy. Get in there," Aurora grabs her phone, and they cue a mini photoshoot. Tayce poses fiercely in some photos, her smile huge in others with her eyes shut, then posing next to her picture with Gigi.
  "Ugh, you're a complete saint! Thank you," Tayce kisses her hands, and like that, she leads them to Cyber.
  They enter the alternative fashion store, the walls red and black with posters, purple mood lighting and rails of black, red and purple clothing. Tayce starts looking through the tops, and Aurora checks the quality of stitching in random garments.
  “So, what is your bar like anyway?” Aurora asks.
  “It's cool. Think Industrial EDM type of vibes. The workers dress a bit grungy, punk, y’know. Trying to look a bit intimidating when really we are sweet as hell,” Tayce grabs a few baggy black tops and a leather harness, “But it's a straight bar. So lots of men.”
  “Why do you work at a straight bar?” Aurora now wondering if it sounds like she is interrogating. Though she is just curious since Tayce only talks about her modelling gigs.
  Tayce shrugs and leads Aurora to the change rooms, “One, I actually get tips for looking hot. Two, the music and gogo dancing is pretty fun. And I work with two of my housemates. And Jo is a pretty cool boss. So win-win minus the straight men.”
  Aurora shrugs, “Fair enough… why do you need more clothes for tonight?”
  "My bloody bikini top fell off the other day while dancing. Thankfully, I duct tape crosses on my nips in case, but it was still a bit much," Tayce bites her lip, looking a bit shy for once.
  Aurora's eyes widen, knowing she would be mortified if that happened to her, "What? Tayce! That’s fucked. Let me make your clothes. It would take me barely an hour to whip something up. I'll even fix what you have so it doesn't come off."
  "Are you sure?" Tayce cocks her head.
  "Yeah. Let me in with you," Aurora pulls out a measuring tape from her handbag, and they step into the change room.
  And Tayce just laughs at her, "you carry a bloody measuring tape?"
  "Yeah? Never know when I might need it," Aurora just raises a brow at Tayce's judgement, "I'll measure you up, and you pay for fabrics."
  Tayce pulls off her dress, and Aurora starts measuring her neck. Focusing on ignoring the fact her slender frame and abs look gorgeous in this purple artificial lighting. And as she measures her chest, feeling her tiny breasts with pert dark nipples press against her as she reaches around her back, because of course, she doesn't wear a bra. And her pronounced collar bones look so kissable… Fuck, why is she so sexy?
  Aurora gulps as she shakes perverted thoughts as she kneels in front of Tayce, measuring her waist than hips. Biting her lip as images skim through her mind of interesting shirt designs, wishing Tayce was her personal fashion doll. A high neck halter with a diamond cutout. Oh, and strappy secure bikini. Maybe a low V with chains.
  Aurora looks up at Tayce, feeling her cheeks flush realising her hands are still resting on her hips and her face perfectly aligned with her panties hidden under stockings, "Already know what I'm gonna make. I'll bring it Friday."
  Tayce raises her brow and has an enigmatic grin, running her finger along Aurora’s chin, “Really now, how much?”
  "Fifteen quid should cover a few tops and fabric," Aurora bites the inside of her lip because why does Tayce have that look whilst she is in perfect proximity to push her against a wall and taste her.
  Aurora stands quickly and evacuates the tiny change room.
  "Rory, you're honestly a blessing," Tayce sounds a bit cocky on the other side of the curtain. She ends up buying a leather chest harness that would barely cover anything and a baggy shirt.
  As they leave the store, Tayce holds her hand and leads her to the food court, “Wagamamas?”
  “Sounds lush,” Aurora replies, her brain pausing a moment when she realises she never said lush before spending time with Tayce.
  ***
  Nerves and excitement wash over Aurora and Ellie as they arrive at the tube stop near their potential home.
  It's a typical suburb. The streets are lined with identical-looking terrace houses, and according to the GPS on her phone, the home is not far from the tube station. Aurora quickly calls Tayce while they walk, triple-checking the correct address.
  The front door is unassuming, like the rest of the suburb. And they knock, unbeknownst to the chaos inside.
  The door is opened by someone with a bright yellow mullet, freckles and a blue eyeshadow, "Hiya babs! I'm Ginny, you must be replacing me! Come in, loves."
  The entry hall is littered with plants. Some are living, others not. The house has loud pop music booming. Ginny bops along as she strides down the hall, leading Ellie and Aurora between plant corpses to open double doors leading to a living space that is a cosy mess.
  They walk into the room that wraps around the wall like an L. A round light wood dining table is covered in plants is directly in front of the door. Ginny shuffles to grab a beer from the dining table and starts singing along with the TV. Two red sofas face the corner of the room, which has a large tv and bookcases against the back wall. A few colourful rugs were thrown on the ground, random bean bags and colourful blankets were thrown about. The back wall has full-length windows and sliding doors, leading to a bare patio with an outdoor couch, a few dead pot plants and a mini firepit.
  Tayce and a gorgeous ebony girl, she thinks the name is Asttina, laugh loudly while performing complex dance moves in front of the TV. They occasionally yell fuck when they mess up a move, copying the choreography onscreen. A pasty girl with mousey brown hair and a blonde streak is typing away on her laptop on the couch, occasionally peeking to observe the space with a bored stare.
  Around the corner is a kitchen. And Aurora recognises Bimini from Tayce’s Instagram feed, another model. They are dancing sexily, shaking their tousled blonde mullet and singing terribly with a wine in hand. They have a spoon in a massive pot of something that smells absolutely incredible.
  It’s apparent they’re on their way to getting pissed. This shouldn't be surprising for a Friday afternoon, but they want to inspect the rooms.
  Bimini walks over, with a warm smile and arms so wide for their petite frame, “Ey babes, welcome! You must be Rory, right? Tayce has told me so much about you. Oh, and it’s Ellie, innit?”
  “Hey, yeah. Nice to meet you!” Aurora cuddles in.
  “Nice to meet you!” Ellie is a bit more polite with her reply. Aurora never understood how her college bestie could ever be shy.
  Tayce runs over from the TV, grabbing Aurora and swinging her around, “Oh, I’ve missed you, chookie! How are you? Want to tickle the nipple? Get a lil pissed?”
  “Maybe after we check the rooms and introductions?” Aurora smiles, watching that mischievous grin forming on Tayce, knowing she needs to rein her in before they devolve into a wild mess.
  “Boring! But fair,” Tayce just giggles and gives Ellie a big squeeze, “Oh, and you must be Ellie! Fuck Rora was right. You are tall!”
  It is an interesting sight, seeing Tayce only come up to Ellie's nose in height, swaying her side to side.
  Tayce pulls Aurora and Ellie along and calls, “Oi, Lemon, help me give a tour!”
  Tayce spins in the entry hallway, pointing at things dramatically, “So that was the main living area obvs, this door is a communal loo with a bathtub, and then this door leads to my most humble of abodes. Oh, and every room has a small bathroom. Pretty lush, innit!”
  Ginny comes out with Tayce’s drink, cuddling with Tayce before they lead Ellie and Aurora upstairs.
  “Right, so the first floor has the studio, and that door is to Asty’s room,” Tayce points at the far door, then opens the door to the studio. It is airy, sunlight shining in from the windows lining the back wall. The room is mostly empty with light wooden floors, a wall covered entirely with mirrors, a tripod set up and a scungy looking blue sofa shoved under the windows. There are small doors beneath the windows leading to eaves storage and an old side table.
  Aurora examines the room. It's perfect. The fact they have a specific space for photoshoots and styling is such a luxury.
  Ginny signs loudly as they walk to the second floor, “Bugger babs, not gon miss these bloody stairs.”
  Tayce opens the far door. The room is mostly bare, with the white bed frame and bare mattress, pink curtains and a painted pink vintage vanity.
  “The other door is Bim’s room. And this was Chezza’s. She is in France now, and left her bloody ugly curtains and vanity for us to deal with. Cheeky bitch!” Ginny grunts, walking into the room and falling onto the bed.
  “Oi, don’t insult the vanity. She’s gorg,” Ellie gasps a little in offence, walking in the room and running her finger on the vanity, “I’ll claim it if no one wants it?”
  “Well bugger, that fixes the issues, doesn't it, love. Move into this room, and you won’t even need to move anything,” Ginny claps her hand and raises a brow.
  “Well well. That’s convenient, innit. Hope you don’t want this room, Rory?” Tayce wraps an arm around Aurora’s waist.
  “El, your taste is questionable, dear. You can have it,” Aurora raises a brow and leans back to enjoy the warmth of Tayce. That vanity is ugly… but maybe fresh paint could help.
  They walk up the last flight of steps, and this landing has plants covering thin side tables and armchairs set up under a window.
  Ginny leads them to the far door, “And this is le casa de sisters lemon. Pip and I share our little top floor haven. So come in, and enjoy my mess. I’m still bothering these lass’ for another few weeks.”
  They walk into the room, and it is bright and incredibly yellow. The roofs are angled with skylight windows lighting the room. There are several yellows trinkets, and the bed has a heap of colourful cushions with bright yellow bed sheets and plants on every surface possible.
  Aurora walks around the space. It is a little tight, but there is potential.
  There is a sliding door leading to a bathroom and a narrow nook. A perfect space to fit a desk and sewing machine. The main area fits a double bed and two side tables with minimal room to spare, but eaves storage is abundant. There is angled storage above the nook, high up storage next to the door, then the angled wall behind the staircase has a short door leading to more storage.
  “So this is a small room, but she got a ton of storage. I use the crawl space as a mini sex dungeon,” Ginny’s has a cheeky cackle and swings the crawl space door open.
  And Aurora just snorts, Ellie gasping when they look inside. Because Jesus Christ. The space is surprisingly long, pretty narrow, but enough height for Aurora to kneel with plenty of space overhead. Aurora sees the space as a perfect drunk haven to cry with two friends in a tight circle. But Ginny has indeed made it a sex room. Many towels and blankets are folded in a corner, black mats covering the floor, an ominous closed yellow box, and a few hooks on the wall with carabiners hanging from them.
  “I love my sex room. So much fun. But I guess you can shove boring shit like clothes in here,” Ginny shrugs.
  Aurora cackles and wishes Ginny was staying. This slag is hysterical. But alas, the crawl space has plenty of space for clothing and a dresser. Perfect for a designer.
  She admires the space and feels her smile grow. It would be a perfect starting space, “This is perfect for me. Els?”
  “I am claiming some of your storage when I start sewing again. But I’m so down!” Ellie has a similar smile, growing excitement.
  “Well, beaut babs, better get your app to the landlord then!” Ginny is cheery, “Ow bout we head downstairs and get some drinks into yer?”
  So they go back downstairs and get proper introductions underway. Pip, who was the girl with the white streak, presents them with some Gin and Tonics, and they fill in the forms Aurora bought printed for the landlord.
  ***
  The group is chaotic, messy but Aurora is the time of her life. And really hopes the landlord accepts their applications.
  They are several hours into drinking, now at a Karaoke bar. Playing drinking games around the table whilst waiting for their next turn at the mic. Apparently, the household makes a habit of visiting their beloved Karaoke bar once a month, Vaude Vamp. The bar is surprisingly busy for how rundown it is, with a dark wood mainstage, a grotty green rug, a few guitars, keyboard and drum kit setup. The stage is surrounded by booths of a similar green tone, a few tables and the bar on the opposite side. The same dark wood, grimy green decorations and golden back lay to the bar.
  The group is in a booth in the back corner. It is seemingly their usual spot by how they confidently strut in, yelling hellos at the bartenders as they enter.
  Aurora is pretty mortal but studies her new housemates between being forced to sing terribly.
  Ginny and Pip are inseparable, both with dry, weird humour. Yelling at the singers and clapping along when they enjoy a song. Pip is incredibly deadpan. Already fucking with Aurora to a point she cannot decipher if the random comments are genuine or not. And they make jokes that go over Aurora’s head. She eventually understands the meaning but tries not to laugh, so she doesn’t appear slow.
  Pip and Ginny sing old songs. Apparently, they are mostly 80s hits. Songs Aurora feels she might have heard her parents play in the background as a kid, but she has no clue about the details. Aurora feigns offence, holding a playful hand to her chest when they call Aurora ‘uncultured swine’ for not knowing their lord and saviour, Kate Bush. Aurora just calls them old hags, and they snort, Aurora knowing her comeback was weak.
  They run onto the stage for their next song, Ginny grabbing a tambourine, and Pip sits at the keyboard. Aurora zones out, acting uninterested and talks to Ellie. But her interest peaks when the chorus comes, sounding familiar from childhood. She instinctively bobs her head along and sings about whatever a Babooshka is. The rest of the bar joins.
  ♫ I'm all yours Babooshka, babooshka, babooshka ja, ja All yours Babooshka, babooshka, babooshka ja, ja All yours Babooshka, babooshka, babooshka ja, ja Babooshka, babooshka, babooshka ja, ja Babooshka, babooshka, babooshka ja, ja Babooshka, babooshka, babooshka ja, ja ♫
  Ginny is skipping around like a weird hippie music teacher, hitting a tambourine. Singing surprisingly high notes. And Pip’s is calm in the background, her voice smooth as butter as she plays the keyboard.
  The audience screams when they finish. Ginny tells them to stop trying to sleep with them, and Pip deadpans, saying she is bored.
  Ellie fits in quite nicely. All shyness has gone from earlier and is ready to get wild. She is doing shots, her banter with the group is easy, and they reward her with loud cackles as she divulges some of her 'Dirty Diamond' stories. She fits in quickly and Aurora is happy, though a bit self-conscious. She is starting to loosen up more, but it is trickier. Aurora isn’t comfortable with karaoke and prefers to listen to the group, learning the little details. Tayce is sitting beside her, distracted with her phone, but taking time to rub her knuckles, asking if she is good.
  Asttina is up next, giving a big squeeze to Bimini as she walks on top of the table to the stage, communicating a million words with a gaze. They are an adorable couple, and it is clear how much they love each other from the looks they give. But Bimini is very touchy, currently cuddling into Aurora’s back and playing with her hair, watching Asttina strut to the stage.
  At first, Aurora was nervous from the touching, pulling Asttina aside at the bar earlier to order drinks. She tells Asttina she doesn��t want to seem like she was trying to flirt or anything. But Asttina simply smiles, raises her brow and wraps an arm around the small of Aurora’s waist. Her lip brushing her ear, “Don’t worry, Bimini just likes touching pretty things.”
  It made Aurora’s skin tingle. It was a strange reply, but everyone is pissed at this point. And Asttina said don’t worry. So Aurora just enjoys the affection, swaying side to side with Bimini’s arms around her waist. And they sing along with Asttina. Both Aurora and Bimini sound like absolute shit as the only non-singers of the group.
  ♫ Can you stay up all night? (All night) Fuck me 'til the daylight (daylight) 34, 35 (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, 35, babe) Can you stay up all night? (Can you stay?) Fuck me 'til the daylight (can you stay?) 34, 35 (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah) Oh-yeah-yeah ♫
  Aurora continues singing loudly, enjoying the music buzzing in her skin. Asttina has the confidence to die for, and her voice is beautiful. Sweet and able to hit high notes like Ariana Grande whilst singing 34+35. She should really be a singer.
  ♫ Got the neighbours yellin', "Earthquake" (earthquake) 4.5 when I make the bed shake (bed shake) Put it down heavy even though it's lightweight (it's lightweight) (It's lightweight, yeah, yeah, yeah, babe) ♫
  Asttina went to a theatre college and is a self-proclaimed triple threat. And Aurora sees it. Her dance moves are perfect with the song, the crowd howling at the sexy moves, and Bimini screams loudly.
  ♫ Yeah, we started at midnight, go 'til the sunrise (sunrise) Done at the same time (yeah) But who's counting the time when we got it for life? (Got it for life) I know all your favourite spots (favourite spots) We can take it from the top (from the top) You such a dream come true, true Make a bitch wanna hit snooze, ooh ♫
  As Asttina finishes, she gets many catcalls and tells the crowd her Instagram handle. Then, she skips back to the booth. Asttina climbs over the table again to sit on Bimini, and they messily tangle for a drunken snog, digging her nails into Bimini’s thighs. The table cheers and Aurora turns away, finding the scene too sexy for her hazy state. She doesn't want to crush on any other potential housemates, distracting herself with Ellie, who is also looking at the scene thirsty.
  When everyone returns their attention to the table and stop whooping over the dry humping, Pip makes a snide comment about Asttina’s basic choice in music. And Asttina retort is sharp, just telling Pip she is desperate to be the manic pixie dream girl. It is clear Asttina is incredibly intelligent. And Pip loves it, laughing at Asttina’s comeback.
  And in this dynamic, Tayce seems like an older sibling who is a bad influence on them all.
  Aurora didn’t notice Tayce sneak off until she returns with a jug of beer and cider for the table. She pours herself a cider to chug before dragging most of the girls up, including Aurora to sing Spice Girls Wannabe.
  For nostalgic songs, Tayce essentially just yells the lyrics, jumping around like a dickhead and grabbing Aurora in her arms. Aurora signs along quietly, the others a bit looser. And gets a little annoyed when Tayce whispers, “loosen up.”
  “Fuck off,” She simply replies and lets loose, singing louder into Tayce’s ear, and Tayce just laughs, holding her side as they perform with a bunch of people on stage.
  After the song, Aurora catches her breath from singing and jumping and watches Tayce call the girls to the smoking area, typing away furiously on her phone.
  Bimini has been her friend for six years now, so they have a lot of inside jokes and always end up laughing hysterically. And they also communicate with eyebrows. Aurora observes in silences. Bimini raises their brow and appears to tilt their head in Aurora’s direction for a moment. Aurora watches Tayce smirk with a little shrug. Whatever the fuck that meant, it looks like half the house can communicate silently, so hopefully, that won’t be a shit show later.
  Asttina and Tayce seem to have everything in common, dancing around in the smoking area and challenging each other to different duets. They are already trying to outdo the other whenever they perform together on stage, with their intricate dance moves and rap speed.
  Tayce and Pip just challenge each other's opinions as they smoke, like siblings who think the other is wrong. Agreeing to disagree, as they get heated but then break into hysterics. Tayce is always ready to jump on Pip for a cuddle.
  And Tayce and Ginny are chaos reincarnate. As they enter the bar again, they run around, yelling random shit, getting the group shots and just talking stupid gibberish to each other. Aurora is kind of glad Tayce won't be under the influence of Ginny when she moves in.
  The night feels wobbly, her body warm and feeling less social. She should call it a night but can’t help but stare as Tayce approaches the stage. She looks ethereal, strutting along, radiant in all red. Boots, shorts, a mini dress and a puffy coat. Always looking effortlessly cool.
  Tayce delicately pulls the mic from the stand, breathes deeply lets out a loud sigh, her cheery persona shifts to a serious mood.
  "Uh oh, Tayce is doing a serious number. She's missing her," Ginny and Pip almost speak in sync, leaning back and holding hands. Looking ready for popcorn.
  "Missing who?" Aurora asks, but the deep bass guitar starts to play, and her lyrics are slow. And fuck, her voice is like honey.
  ♫ I feel faded I feel so gone I've been cravin' Parts of your soul I feel faded I feel so gone I've been cravin' Parts of your song So damn gone ♫
  Tayce is mesmerising. Her voice is deep with a rasp to it. But absolutely soothing to the ears and chest, her Welsh accent brings beautiful lit to her words. Tayce stands still singing with her eyes shut. Aurora leans forward with elbows on the table, fully captive.
  ♫ I need you now Found all that smoke that clouds The shadows that keep leakin' out your house You throwin' daggers at the crown There's liquor fallin' from your mouth I'll spit on silk to find the silver in the slivers in your couch I'm comin' out Let me find out Them Nike slippers with the flippers Man, you know what I'm about I found the shelter in your shadows Now you sinkin' in the clouds I know you saw it, I know you 'bout to find out I need you now ♫
  Aurora has never seen Tayce look this serious. At first, Aurora thought it was an act, but that black gaze with darkness behind them. Communicating a thousand words of hurt that make Aurora want to hold her.
  Tayce bops to the rhythm of the bass. And Aurora looks around the room and sees the other punters are also held captive. The room was as silent as a Karaoke bar could be. Hypnotising the crowd with her beautiful voice and sorrow, truly like a siren. Tayce could drown them all in a heartbeat, and they would give in with open arms.
  ♫ Watch it glisten She always talkin' my ear off and Now I'm about to make her listen I grab her waist and pull her closer Had her sprawled out in the kitchen I hold her closer then I realise that There's always somethin' missin'
I need you now I need you now ♫
  Tayce squats down, singing deeply, the pain in her words harrowing. Aurora can feel a tear slide down her cheek. She needs to remind Tayce that she is wonderful after this. She feels Ellie grab her shoulder, hearing her sniffle too.
  Aurora doesn't believe it is an act. And wonders who could hurt someone so perfect.
  ♫ I feel faded I feel so gone I've been cravin' Parts of your song I feel faded I feel so gone I've been cravin' Parts of your song
So damn gone ♫
  The song finishes, and the crowd roars. Some are standing, others yelling that she is amazing, and Aurora spots some other chicks in a corner, all crying and screaming. Tayce breathes out for a moment, and the serious face becomes cheerful again, just letting out an ugly giggle and saying thanks before running off the stage.
  Aurora squeezes Tayce when she sits back down and whispers, “Are you right?"
  “It’s just for the drama, Mama!” Tayce gives a slight smile and wink. But Aurora can still see something as her smile fades.
  The night carries on. More booze flows, and Aurora feels her head getting lighter. They sing a few more group songs and chat about existential dread in their circle. Aurora finds herself resting against Tayce, starting to drift in and out of sleep.
  Probably time for bed. No way she's getting the tube now, so she'll need to spend too much on an Uber.
  ***
  Tayce and Aurora are the last waiting for their respective Ubers. Tayce and Aurora share a cigarette, huddling together for some warmth under a blaring streetlight.
  The air is heavy.
  Aurora inhales a deep puff of the cigarette, trying to decipher Tayce's mood, "Just so you know, you are absolutely wonderful and anyone who thinks otherwise can eat shit."
  Tayce lets out a tiny snort simply replies as Aurora passes the cigarette, "I'm stupid. But a big girl. I'll be fine."
  "Stay with me tonight," Aurora grabs her arm and surprises herself with those words leaving her lips before her mind caught up. She quickly feigns nonchalance, “Uh, we can watch runways and snuggle or whatever.”
  Tayce gives her a little smile, squeezing Aurora's hand, "You're sweet, Rory. I just need to remember I'm an independent hound. A lone wolf, bebeh!"
  Aurora's Uber pulls up, and she squeezes Tayce, a bit stuck for words, simply managing, "I am always ready if you need me."
  Tayce lets out a sigh, "You’re such a loser, but you're my amazing loser."
  "Oi!" Aurora shoves Tayce away.
  Tayce kisses her hand before opening her Uber door and pushing her in, "Nos da, bebeh!"
  Aurora tilts her head a little, “the fuck? Goodnight?”
  “Yes, goodnight,” Tayce giggles and blows a kiss, resting against the brick wall, checking her phone.
  As Aurora is driven away, her vision blurry from too much booze, she watches Tayce glow. A bright red beacon under the halogenic streetlamp, against the grey, filthy and glum surroundings. Drunk people stumbling around her, neon signs flashing and trash bags to the side.
  But Tayce stands in the middle of it all. Beautiful and calm with white smoke rising to the sky from her cigarette. Like a fallen siren, ethereal beyond belief but looking incredibly meek.
  ----------------
  Tayce stirs awake and sighs heavily with that sinking feeling again. She checks her phone. 4:30 am.
  This felt like cocaine. Such a euphoric hit instantly, all ideas and feelings intensify and become fantastical. Adrenaline and serotonin course through veins. And pleasure makes her a pathetic mess, begging and crying for more.
  But then a sick emptiness when the comedown begins. Usually within an hour. And feeling awful for a few days.
  Tayce sits up in the familiar room that wasn't her own. Arms cuddling around her stomach. The arms Tayce falls when she's lonely. The arms of her first love.
  Their breakup was a shit show. But they were friends again after some time. Tayce is one of the few people to see her silly and kind of lame side. A side that is hidden behind her facade of perfection.
  When the craving becomes too strong, Tayce asks for another night. Preferring feeling like shit for a few days in her arms to another woman wasting her time.
  Tayce is about to stand when she feels the soft hand with short acrylics squeezing her thigh.
  "Are you leaving, pup?" The voice murmurs softly.
  "Yeah… I have stuff to do tomorrow morning," Tayce replies, trying to sound casual.
  "Okay. Text me, so I know you get home safely," Tayce feels her fingertips rub gentle circles into her skin.
  But her ex never says goodbye.
  After they finish, she is tender. But that was just a part of the aftercare routine. Making Tayce drink water while stroking her hair, whispering about how Tayce is doing a good job. Then shower, always cuddling. The only time they might laugh and chat normally.
  It feels so real.
  But once the aftercare finishes and they get into bed, a chill like a cold front makes Tayce want to evacuate. Even if they cuddle, Tayce doesn't feel her warmth. Just the dread of being a chore.
  Tayce was her puppy. An annoying hound, that won't leave after a relationship that couldn't work.
  But Tayce still longs for her validation.
  Tayce picks up her clothes and walks to the ensuite bathroom. After noticing a sting when she pees, she starts examining the 'damage.' Tayce's chest and wrists have visible rope marks, and the red mark from the collar taunts her.
  Tayce thought it was a bit tight tonight, but struggling for breath adds to the intensity. Her mind goes blank after a while. The feeling is almost primal. Having her ex fuck her so hard for so long without a break. The euphoric tingling hits her core, and her throat has a painful itch as the leash tugs roughly for a few seconds. Then trembling relief for oxygen when the grip loosens for a few minutes.
  It was all so intoxicating. So Tayce didn't use their word.
  As Tayce leaves, she admires the figure peacefully sleeping on her back, highlighted in city lights.
  Her wrists rest near her face, looking perfectly graspable in Tayce’s ideal fantasies. Her long perfect curls covering her big breasts and the rise and fall of her ribs show off that gorgeous hourglass figure.
  The beautiful features of her face glow, and her lips are so inviting. The lips she could no longer kiss.
  That was the main rule for their encounters. Her punishment.
  Tayce feels dejected as she leaves for her walk of shame. Tail between her legs.
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fatoomie2801 · 3 years
Text
his queen | kyoya tategami
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💫 preview 💫
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Metal Fusion
"Is there a Madoka here?" an unknown person asked.
"Yes," a girl with short brown hair responded. "I'm Madoka. Is there anything you need?"
"I need to fix... my bey..." the unknown person managed to say before falling on the floor unconscious, her almost entirely destroyed bey slipping out of her hand onto the floor in front of her. Madoka gasped with concern as she rushed to the person's side, calling someone named Gingka for help. Gingka carried the person downstairs and laid them on the bed in a spare room whilst Madoka fetched food and water for when they woke up. She also retrieved a towel and wet it with cold water, placing it on the forehead of the young girl who lay in the bed, hoping that she would wake up soon. Gingka remained by the side of the bed whilst Madoka inspected the girl's bey.
"Earth Columba 145WD. A balance type beyblade. I wonder what caused it to become so damaged like this," Madoka thought out loud. "This will take a really long time to repair."
A couple of days passed and the young girl remained unconscious in the bed, Gingka keeping an eye on her and Madoka working endlessly on repairing her bey. Gingka studied her features closely. Her skin was tanned and she had long, dark brown hair that reached all the way down to her lower back. Her hair was held together towards the ends with a golden clasp. As for her attire, she wore a white crop top, beige trousers, a beige jacket with sleeves that stopped just above her elbows, brown gloves, and brown shoes. She also wore a brown belt around her hips, which held all of her bey equipment, things such as her bey holder, launcher, and bey pointer. Her ears, neck, and wrists were adorned with gold jewellery, and she wore a simple golden hoop nose ring. Gingka was sure he had never seen her before and wondered where she had come from and what had happened to her to leave her in such a state.
Soon enough, she woke up and was met with Gingka sitting beside the bed.
"Madoka! She's awake!" he exclaimed as he ran out of the room. He returned with Madoka who had brought food and water for the girl. "Hey, are you okay?" Gingka questioned.
"Yeah, I guess. Where am I?" the girl responded.
"You're still at the mechanic shop. This is one of the spare rooms we have but the main part of the store is upstairs. It's my dad's store by the way," Madoka explained.
"What happened?" the girl questioned.
"You fell unconscious as soon as you walked in and it's been a couple of days since then," Madoka answered. "What's your name?"
"Ah, I'm Kiara. Kiara Otori. It's nice to meet you, Madoka and..." Kiara trailed off as she looked at the young boy with spiky red hair and mostly blue attire.
"Gingka. Gingka Hagane," Gingka finished off her sentence.
"Nice to meet you Gingka. Thank you, both of you, for letting me stay here and taking care of me," Kiara continued. "But what about my bey? Where's Columba?"
"I'm trying my best to repair it but it's going to take a lot longer than usual," Madoka replied.
"Yeah, your bey was really trashed," Gingka added. "What happened?"
"I lost a really important battle," Kiara answered, lowering her head as she spoke. Madoka and Gingka looked at her with sympathetic expressions on their faces.
"To who?" Gingka asked.
"My boyfriend. Well, I guess he's my ex now," Kiara replied. Madoka placed a hand on Kiara's shoulder, ensuring that she could trust them and tell them her story. "He's a really strong blader. All he wanted was to become stronger and stronger until he was the most powerful blader in the world. He had always wanted to use my power and strength to his advantage, and when I refused to let him do that, he crushed my bey and took everything I had from me."
"That's so sad. I'm so sorry, Kiara," Madoka sympathised. "It'll be alright. I am trying my best to get your bey repaired so that it'll be just like a brand new one. You can stay here until you feel better, okay?"
Kiara smiled at Madoka's kind actions and looked at Gingka as he began to speak.
"Wanna meet my friends?" he asked, excitedly. Kiara smiled and agreed to go with Gingka to the bey park, Gingka making sure she took it easy as she had just recently woken up.
Upon arrival, the two walked into a room filled with small bey stadiums surrounded by young bladers who battled passionately with each other. Kiara followed Gingka as he led her to meet his friends.
"This is Kenta," Gingka gestured towards a small boy with green hair, brown eyes, and an adorable smile. Kiara crouched down to his height as she was a couple of inches taller than Gingka, and wanted to greet the little boy whilst being level with him. She reached her hand out in order to shake his.
"I'm Kiara," she smiled. "It's really nice to meet you. Aren't you just adorable?" She softly pinched his cheeks, causing both him and Gingka to chuckle in response.
"Nice to meet you too, Kiara," Kenta responded, immediately taking a liking to the girl. "Do you wanna battle?"
"Sure," she replied. "Ah, wait, Kenta. I don't have my bey with me. It's being repaired by Madoka."
"Oh yeah," Gingka remembered. "Let me go and get you a temporary bey to battle with for the time being, okay? Wait here." Gingka left and returned with a bey for Kiara to use while she battled Kenta.
"Okay. 3! 2! 1! Let it rip!" Kenta and Kiara both launched their beys into the stadium.
"Go Sagittario!" Kenta ordered.
"Go now! Get him!" Kiara retaliated.
"What?! Kenta, why are you battling without telling us?" a trio of young boys questioned.
"Yeah, and who's this?" the one with spiky blue hair asked.
"This is Kiara, you guys," Gingka answered instead. He waited until the battle was over to introduce her to the trio.
"Go Sagittario! Flame Claw!" Kenta used his special move and sent Kiara's bey flying out of the stadium. "Yay! I won! I won! Did you see that Gingka?"
"Yes I did, Kenta," Gingka responded, ruffling the young boy's hair.
"If I had Columba, your victory would not have been so easy, okay?" Kiara laughed as she high fived Kenta. "Well done, though. You seem to be a strong little blader."
"Thank you. I'm working really hard to become just as strong as Gingka, you know," he replied. Gingka laughed and ensured Kenta that with a lot of hard work and practice, that day was sure to come soon. He then turned to Kiara to introduce her to the trio of young boys from earlier.
"Kiara, this is Osamu," Gingka pointed to the boy with brown hair and a red shirt. "Takashi," he gestured to the taller boy with blonde hair and a pale blue shirt. "And Akira," he said, as he pointed towards the remaining boy in the group, the shortest of the bunch, with dark blue hair and a matching coloured shirt. After meeting them, they all demanded to battle Kiara, and she agreed, spending the rest of her day battling Gingka's friends. Although the bey she currently possessed was temporary, she managed to use it to her advantage, and by the end of it all, she had won the most battles.
"Wow, she's such a good blader!" Akira commented. Kiara smiled shyly.
"She hasn't won against me though, remember?" Kenta added, facing the much taller girl. "I beat you with my Flame Sagittario." 
Kiara bent her knees so that she could meet Kenta's height. "I will beat you someday, Kenta. Make sure you practice hard so that I won't have to go easy on you when my Earth Columba is repaired, okay?" She tapped her finger on the young boy's nose as she spoke. Kenta giggled at both her words and actions.
"I'll train hard every day with Gingka and Benkei, isn't that right?" Kenta spoke as he looked up at Gingka. The name Benkei was unfamiliar to Kiara so she stood back up to Gingka's height to question who he was.
"I'm right here," a taller, larger person with purple hair and a beanie walked into the room. "Hey, Gingka. Hey, Kenta. Who's this?"
"Hey, Benkei. This is Kiara. Can you believe I beat her with my Sagittario?" Kenta answered.
"You go, Kenta! That must be the result of the special training we did together," reacted Benkei. He was proud of Kenta and this showed Kiara that they must all have a close relationship. Kiara and Benkei spent some time battling each other, Kiara losing to him every time. She slowly became frustrated that she couldn't use Columba, her partner, but knew that there was nothing she could do about her situation.
~ ~ ~
"You love me, don't you, my dove?"
"I do, I promise, but I can't let you do this. It's wrong to steal power from others, when will you understand that?!"
"Seems to me like you're the one who needs to understand! Let it rip!"
"Argh, let it rip! Go Columba! Special move: Harmonious Descent!"
"That won't work on me, my dove. You of all people should know that! Go now!"
"I beg you, don't do this!"
"If only you truly loved me, you'd understand! Get out of my way! Do it now! Tear this little pigeon to pieces!"
~ ~ ~
"Kiara?" Gingka tapped Kiara on her shoulder, disturbing her from her deep thoughts. "You okay?"
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the rest of chapter 1 is available on wattpad:
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multifandomwriter18 · 4 years
Text
Ironhide x reader imagine ~ TF1
~Ironhide was legit my very first crush. Then he died in Dark of the moon so then I kinda was like ‘bee is kind of cute.’ Therefore that led to becoming madly in love with Bumblebee. Anyways enjoy!~
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You see being a teenager and figuring out your GMC truck isn't just a truck but an alien robot it kinda fucks your head up.
Normally you don't see a 17 year old going out on a full out alien war but hey that's just your crazy life right?
After the first war you became really good friends with Sam but sadly he had moved on with Mikaela which was cool since you had Ironhide to hang out with you.
Throughout your time with him, he had taught you a lot. Mostly about guns and bad ass missions he went on back on Cybertron which you didn't mind cause who wouldn't want to hear cool as stories about giant alien robots kicking ass?!
Tonight you were gonna pick up (name) for you and his movie date. Of course you were excited. You had always had a crush on him every since you two little kids.
The school bell takes you away from your thoughts and you grabbed your binders and you head out it (class) class.
You see (name) leaning against your locker as you smiled at him. "Hey, (name) how was class?" He asked as he chuckled. "It was good I guess. (Class) is (class)." You replied as you tucked a lock of your (h/c) hair behind your ear.
He smiled as he leaned down and kissed your cheek. "You see tonight ."
You blushed but nodded as you watched him leave. You sigh dreamily at him as you then opened your locker and grabbed your (colour and size) backpack.
You closed your locker and head out to of the school to the parking lot where Hide was parked at.
As you get to the parking lot you see a few girls making cow eyes at Hide. Heat swept through your cheeks.
Wha-what the heck is going?!
You felt angry and jealous. What?! Me jealous?!
Without anymore hesitation, feeling sick to your stomach watching the girls touch his hold you snapped.
"Hey!" They turn to look at you as you stormed at them. "Get your hands of him-my truck!" You spat as the girls side stepped as they looked at you.
"This is your truck?" The blonde one asked as you rolled your (e/c) colour eyes. "Damn right, now get your hands away from him-m-my truck!" You snapped as you stuttered the last part.
"Chill out weirdo we were just checkout the truck."
Your face went a dark shade of red. "Well I don't want you doing that again-and don't ever touch him-my truck!"
The girls whispered to each other as you glared at him, ignoring the warmth of his hood underneath your touch.
The girls walked away as you let out a shaky breath. You step away from Hide for a moment, wondering what the hell just had happened.
"You ok kid?" Hide asked through the radio as I nodded, throwing my bag onto the passenger seat before getting into the driver's side.
"So what are we gonna do tonight kid?"
You chuckled nervously, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. "Oh um..well I have a..a date.." You mumble as Hide instantly pressed on the brakes nearly smashing your face against the steering wheel.
"Ironhide what the-"
"A what?!"
You worked down a swallow as you shifted in the seat. "A date..like when two humans go out together." You replied as he snorted in disgust. "Hide what the hell is wrong with you?"
He didn't reply. He started up again and drove you home.
:later that night:
As you got ready you couldn't get Ironhide out of your head.
Why did he act like that?
You shook your head side to side trying to get Hide out of your head. You then added some makeup to your face.
A little bit of coverup. Mascara and eye liner. You then went to your closet and pulled out a pair of (colour) jeans, a (colour) t-shirt and your (colour) jean jacket.
You pulled on ankle socks and your (colour) Vans. You grabbed your purse, phone and wallet. You brushed your hair and left it down.
You take in a deep breath before heading down the stairs and giving your parents a quick kiss on their cheeks. "I want you home at 11 o'clock and don't be late." Your father stated sternly as you nodded.
"Yes ok. Bye!" You run out the door and to the driveway and hopped in the driver side and Ironhide grumbled something before starting up and the radio played one of your favourite songs.
"I want to hold you when I'm not suppose to. When I'm lying next to someone else. Your stuck in my head and I can't get you out of it. I could do it all again. I know I'd go back to you!" You sang out as you hummed the rest of the lyrics as you pulled into (name's) driveway and he steps out from his porch.
As he went to open the passenger door it wouldn't budge. "Hey um..(y/n) the doors locked." You raised a brow as you clicked the unlock button but it locked again.
You rolled your (e/c) eyes before you leaned over and opened the door. "Sorry (name) my truck can sometimes be stupid."
He chuckled before getting in and you drive off to the movies. During the drive he reached out and you both held hands as your other hand rested on the steering wheel.
Ironhide thankfully didn't act up anymore. Part of you felt guilty for calling Hide stupid. He wasn't stupid. He meant a lot to you but sometimes he could get on your nerves.
Once you pull up to the movie theatre you find a parking spot and both you and (name) get out and in hand in hand walk to the front doors.
As you look over your shoulder, staring at Hide one last time. Why do I feel like I'm making a mistake?
:after the movie:
You pull up to his house and you smiled at him. Through out the movie you felt at ease.
Happy even. (Name) made you giggle a lot as he would put his arm around you or kiss your cheek.
He made you feel bubbly and just-God you could swoon over him, but part of you didn't feel right.
You had non-stopped thought about Hide. All you could think about was him and how you got jealous of those girls.
You thought about him getting jealous over you and (name).
"I had fun (y/n) I really did.."
You smiled as you looked at him. Your (e/c) eyes met his dark (e/c) ones.
Slowly you both leaned towards each other. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your lips. Just before (name) could kiss you, Ironhide jerked the seat forward and backwards ruining the moment.
"I'm so sorry! I don't-my truck has some issues but-"
He cut you off with a soft kiss on the cheek. "It's ok (y/n), see you tomorrow."
You blushed but nodded as he smiled at you once more before heading out and to his house.
You then kicked the radio. "What the hell is wrong with you? Why did you do that?!" You snapped at Hide, instantly regretting it.
Of course he didn't response so without another word you put him in drive and pulled out of (name's) driveway and down the road.
"I can't believe you right now! First you try to lock (name) out. Then you nearly throw him off the seat! What the fuck!" You yelled angrily as you clenched hard on the steering wheel.
Suddenly the truck jerks and you nearly hit face first on the steering wheel.
"CAUSE I LIKE YOU!" He snarled through the com-link throwing you off big time.
He likes me? You thought as your heart was beating out of your chest.
Ironhide pulled to the side off the road and his hologram appeared on the passenger side seat.
His hologram form was an eye full. The large body figure-muscle and all. His hair was jet black that kinda looks like a purple-silver in the faint moon light.
He wore dark jeans, a grey t-shirt that might you say cling onto his biceps. His eyes were a strikingly electric blue.
His skin was dark-like the colour of creamy coffee. Around his arms he had jet black tattoos-Cybertonian tattoos. He didn't look at me, he let out a faint sigh as he leaned over.
"Look, I hated the fact that you had that damn kid in here with you-and you didn't like those human girls checking out my alt mode.."
"Why the hell are you bringing this up now?" You hissed as more heat swept through your (skin colour) cheeks. "Why does it bother us so much if we are near or with other people?" He added on as you lowered my gaze.
"Maybe cause we're just that special?"
He groaned, dragging his hands down his face before grabbing your arm and pulling you towards him.
"God your so difficult."
"Hey-what I'm-MPH!"
In moment his lips collied with yours. Your (e/c) eyes widened at the sudden action but slowly you began to relax in his kiss.
His lips were warm and soft. Fitting perfectly against yours. You mimicked the movement of his lips for a while until he finally pulled away.
You both were out of breath, your faces both red and you couldn't help but stare at him in shock.
"Look-I don't know what I'm doing-or how to react to these emotions that I feel towards you but I know what I feel towards you is real. I like the feeling of it and if you don't-"
"-I like you too." You stuttered out as you cut him off from his sentence. You saw him tense up and his whole interior of his alt mode begin I heat up making you bite your lip at the sudden warmth.
"You do?" He asked, finally breaking he silence as you nodded, meeting his gaze.
"Yes I do."
He smirked a little as he pulled you towards him. Your face heated up a bit more. "In that case I would like to kiss you again but also ask you formally like you humans do it on earth. Will you be my girlfriend-or as we say it on Cyberton..will you be my Sparkmate?"
You smiled as you nodded eagerly. "Yes! Yes I say yes to it all." You replied cheerfully as Ironhide cupped your face and kissed you hard on the mouth.
You never had been kissed like this before. It was exhilarating! A kiss that made you want more and more.
You both broke the kiss and he smiled at you. You face flushed as you looked away.
"What are you smiling at?"
"You have two minutes before it hits 11 o'clock (nickname)"
You (e/c) eyes widened as you looked at the radio clock. "Oh shit! I'm gonna be late!"
You hopped off his lap and I to the driver's seat and sped down the road.
What a night eh?
Hello my little Sweetparks!
I hope you all are enjoying my imagines so far! Any thoughts of the new one shot?💗
More updates are still to come so stay tuned for more! Or please don’t be afraid to request anything! I’ll gladly take your requests!!!
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shimmeringclouds · 3 years
Text
♔ | 𝐗
»»----- ♔ -----««
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The car rumbled over a gravel pathway, entering though opened steel gates and down a road lined with tall pine trees. You craned your neck upwards, hand blocking out the sun in an attempt to see just how high they reached.
"Where are we?" You asked for the hundredth time, still hoping Ozo would give you even the slightest hint of where he had planned to take you. The whole time, he had avoided the question, and he did just the same now, grinning cheekily as he gave you same answer.
"You'll see when we get there!" He laughed at your exasperated sigh.
"You can't even give me just one hint?" You tried.
"[Y/N], you're smart. If I give you a hint, you'll know the answer straight away! Then there'd be no surprise!" He tutted, not giving in to your pouting, no matter how cute you looked. If he could get past Takashi, he could get past you. Albeit, with a lot more struggle.
And so, you waited, leg bouncing in anticipation as the road finally widened out, the trees dispersing to reveal a modern mansion, with large windows almost completely covering the entire front of it. It was pale in colour, it's tiled roof a matte black.
Ozo manoeuvred the car around the fountain in the front drive way, steadily coming to a halt.
"Where... Who's house is this??" You stated in bewilderment. How many mansions did this place have? Ozo only continued to remove his seatbelt, prompting you to do the same until he stopped you.
"Stay in the car for a sec. This isn't the final destination," with that, he jumped out of the car, walking up a small platform of stairs and knocking loudly on the large dark oak doors. You watched him as he leaned his weight on one foot, resting a hand in his pocket as the other fanned his face.
As you both waited for someone to arrive at the door, you began to think about who this person could be. If Ozo thought you would guess who it was easily, then that meant you had to have met this person before, right? You cupped your chin, brows furrowed as you thought further. You knew Chorosuke and Dayoko definitely didn't live here, Takashi lives in Iriabi, so it's not him... If Ozo lived here, then he wouldn't have to knock on the door... Then the only other person it could be was...
"Osomatsu-niisan!"
The doors swung open violently, a yellow blur tackling the driver, close to knocking him over. Ozo yelped in surprise, quickly melting into a laugh.
"Jyushimatsu!" Ozo patted his brother's back affectionately. "See, this is why you're my favourite!"
Ah, now the mansion made sense. Jyushimatsu was the son of the mayor here, so of course they would live in luxury.
As you observed the scene with a fond smile, you noticed that Jyushimatsu was actually wearing the paper bag he had with him the night before, his large eyes peering through the two holes haphazardly cut into the front of the brown paper. You wondered why he wore it; was he self-conscious?
'No,' you thought. 'If he was, he would've kept it on when we first met.'
"What are you doing here, niisan?" Jyushimatsu asked, leaning away.
"I'm taking [Y/N] around Akashika, to show her the sights and stuff," he glanced back at you. "Wanna come with us?"
The two caught eyes, an understanding glimmer flashing between them as Jyushimatsu nodded eagerly, already running towards the car. He jumped into the back seats — literally — and greeted you loudly.
"[Y/N]-chan!" He exclaimed happily, leaning through the gap between your front seats.
"Hello, Jyushimatsu!" His enthusiasm was infectious, your own smile widening greatly.
"You look really pretty today!" He added. "I can tell Osomatsu-niisan thinks so, too!" He pointed to said person as they sat themselves into the car, freezing at the sudden call-out. You giggled, cheeks flushing.
"I'm sure he does," your mind went back to the first car ride, unable to stop the butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you watched Ozo's face darken to red. He glared at Jyushimatsu from the rear view mirror as he started up the car, driving away from the mansion.
"So you live here, Jyushimatsu?" You did Ozo a favour, diverting the subject easily.
"Yup! This is the Ogami Family Estate!" He pointed back to his home as it slowly disappeared from view. "My dad and I live here! You can visit anytime you like!"
You smiled, keeping the offer in mind. Ozo stayed silent, squinting at the road as he drove back the way he came, taking a left towards the mountain peaks in the distance.
"Boobs!" The sudden call from Jyushimatsu made you jump. You glanced back at him with a raised brow to see him pointing straight ahead towards the two twin peaks.
"He thinks they look like tits." Ozo's blunt explanation didn't help the burn of your skin.
"O-Oh..." you mumbled, shrinking slightly in your seat.
'That's one way to look at it, I guess...'
The rest of the car ride was mostly uneventful, the only noise coming from Jyushimatsu as he hummed a tune you hadn't heard before. It sounded like a nursery rhyme.
At one point, the stretch of road ahead of you was devoid of any trees or shade, allowing the sun to shine down on you with no mercy.
"Man, it's hot today...!" Ozo sighed, rolling down his window. You nodded, doing the same.
"Hey, Osomatsu nii-san..." Jyushimatsu called from the back, tired as he fanned himself. "Can't you put the AC on?"
"Ah, well..." Ozo laughed nervously. "I still haven't gotten it fixed yet..."
"What?!" Jyushimatsu cried. "I'm gonna die..!"
"How can you survive this summer heat when you're driving around all day?" You asked incredulously, peering over to the driver who was busy unbuttoning a third button from his shirt, tousling his hair to provide some kind of cool breeze for his head. His sleeves were sticking to his biceps, clinging onto his skin and defining his slightly toned arms.
"I don't." Ozo replied, not noticing your blatant stares, unlike a certain someone behind you. You heard Jyushimatsu giggle, making you avert your eyes with a silent huff in turn.
Soldiering through the dizzying heat, the car eventually pulled to a stop in front of the beginnings of a mountain trail. Clambering out, you squinted your eyes at the path as it trailed upwards.
"Are we climbing all the way up to the top?" Wearily, you took a subtle step back. Jyushimatsu laughed loudly, readjusting the paper bag on his head.
"Nope! Just a little further up this way!" He headed off, waving a hand back towards you and Ozo. "Let's go!"
The heavy slam of the trunk of the car caused you to turn around, watching as Ozo adjusted his grip on the handle of a blue and white box before following behind you.
"What's that?" Ozo glanced at you then down to the box, grinning.
"I always carry a few extra drinks with me on the job. Don't tell my boss, though!" He mockingly held a finger up to his lips, winking at you.
"Don't tell me there's only beer cans in there.." you raised a brow. As nice as the thought was, you weren't planning to get drunk during the day, especially on a mountain trail.
"Nah, 'course not!" Ozo waved a hand. "As much as I love my alcohol, a soda or too aren't so bad every now and then, too!"
You felt something slip around your wrist, your steps faltering. Recognising that warmth, your eyes widened slightly as Ozo's hand wrapped themselves around you again, gently tugging you forward along with him.
"Wouldn't want you to trip or anything, right?" His dark lidded eyes moved over to you from over his shoulder. His stare made you want to bury your face into your hands.
"Not when you're looking that gorgeous."
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llucy-san · 4 years
Text
CHARACTER STUDY
Tagged by lovely @pd3 ❤️ and maybe someone else but.... 🤷‍♀️
@faithchel @ja-crispea @smithandrogers @shelliechen @v3ryvelvet @veinereastath @dieguzguz @f0xyboxes @fadedjacket @risenlucifer @tomexraider @fromathelastoveritaserum @goodboiboomer-fc5 @geronimo-11​
I made it as my OC's would answer this ask game, so go ahead and read if you want to know more about them or how they interact.
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LAYER 01: THE OUTSIDE
NAME: Hope Amelia Lansdowne but Hope is enough.
EYE COLOUR: It's mix of blue and green, but more of blue.
HAIR STYLE / COLOUR: Long, wavy blond hair, but I like to comb it into a bun or a ponytail.
HEIGHT: 5′6″
CLOTHING STYLE: I usually wear comfortable things like T-shirts, pants, combat boots and of course my military jacket. But you won't find anything fancy like dress in my closet.
BEST PHYSICAL FEATURE: *shrugs* Don't know, whole body i guess. I'm trying to be fit.
LAYER 02: THE INSIDE
FEAR: Lose the ones I love.
GUILTY PLEASURE: I got drunk once so hard with mates, Sharky and Hurk that you don't even want to know where we woke up the next day. A week after our little meeting, I felt still little dizzy. But I would never trade my two to ride and die. NEVER.
BIGGEST PET PEEVE: My plane!! You can look at it but don't touch it.
AMBITIONS FOR THE FUTURE: Live life to the fullest and enjoy every moment with our loved ones.
LAYER 03: THOUGHTS
FIRST THOUGHTS WAKING UP: Glaring at those little numbers on my alarm clock and whisper “I hate you” but then *sighs* I remember all the things that awaits me that day and somehow, I get out of bed.
WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT MOST: If I will have the strength to get up the next day.
WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT BEFORE BED: My baby!! I usually fall into bed and instantly fall asleep.
WHAT THEY THINK THEIR BEST QUALITY IS: My flying skills and maybe my humour. There is nothing better than being sarcastic to someone who you don’t like. Or if I won fight over men twice my size.
LAYER 04: EITHER OR
SINGLE OR GROUP DATES: I don't do dates, and quite frankly, I don't even have time for it. But if I have to choose, I prefer single.
TO BE LOVED OR RESPECTED: Can't I choose both? I think they're both corresponding.
BEAUTY OR BRAINS: Brains, definitely.
DOGS OR CATS: Both, take a look at Bommer and Peaches. They're both so adorable.
LAYER 05: DO THEY
LIE: Who hasn't? I try to be honest but sometimes some situations requires it.
BELIEVE IN THEMSELVES: What kind of bloody question is that? *frowns* Of course, I believe in myself.
BELIEVE IN LOVE: If you meet the right one, go ahead. Though, I was not so lucky.
WANT SOMEONE: Why are you asking? You offer?
LAYER 06: HAVE THEY
BEEN ON STAGE: Nope.
DONE DRUGS: Sharky has a lot of stuff, but I keep my hands off it, so no.
CHANGED WHO THEY WERE TO FIT IN: I don't need to pretend in front of anyone to fit in. I am who I am and I will never force myself.
LAYER 07: WHAT'S THEIR
FAVORITE COLOR: Don't have one.
FAVORITE ANIMAL: Wolves, I adores them.
FAVORITE BOOK: *shrugs* I don't read much, but when I do, I read what's first hand.
FAVORITE GAME: If you consider games where you drink a lot, then yes. *shifts in her seat* Hey, you should come to Spread Eagle with me sometimes and we can play our drinking games. Hurk will bring his liquor he got from many journeys he survived and Mary will make her famous cocktails.
LAYER 08: AGE
DAY THEIR NEXT BIRTHDAY WILL BE: 24th September
HOW OLD THEY WILL BE: 25
LAYER 09:
I LOVE: Flying, I have flying in my blood, or just being in lap of nature.
I FEEL: *sighs* Tired of your questions.
I HIDE: My bourbon! You wouldn't believe how hard it is for me to bring it here unseen. Especialy from Sharky cause he will drink anything he can see.
I MISS: My parents. I didn't get a chance to say goodbye with them one last time or go to their funeral.
I WISH: To be done with this so I could go.
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LAYER 01: THE OUTSIDE
NAME: Marcus Adam Lansdowne but Marcus is fine.
EYE COLOUR: Blue
HAIR STYLE / COLOUR: Short-cut blond, short on the sides and up here *combing his hair* I have to comb it back or hold it with something, usually cap helps me.
HEIGHT: 6′1″
CLOTHING STYLE: T-shirts, pants but also something elegant like suits. But I wear them only at special occasions. 
BEST PHYSICAL FEATURE: Arms, for sure. But Avery, my wife, will tell you something else.
LAYER 02: THE INSIDE
FEAR: My family above all. All I have left is my sister and my loving wife. So if you so much as look at both of them in the wrong way, *leanes closer in his seat* then, you and I have a problem, mate. 
GUILTY PLEASURE: You would believe me but singing while playing on my guitar.
BIGGEST PET PEEVE: When I lose something and Avery or Hope says, "Well, where was the last place you had it?" Seriously? That's being helpful? If I knew the last place I had it, it wouldn't be lost, now would it?
AMBITIONS FOR THE FUTURE: I don't know. I have everything I need and don't need anything else.
LAYER 03: THOUGHTS
FIRST THOUGHTS WAKING UP: Time in the army taught me to get up early so, next question.
WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT MOST: Family
WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT BEFORE BED: What kind of question is this? *frowns* The bed equals rest. What else should I think about? Oh you mean. *clears his throat* Next one.
WHAT THEY THINK THEIR BEST QUALITY IS: Strength, devotion, intellect.
LAYER 04: EITHER OR
SINGLE OR GROUP DATES: I don't know what you want from me anymore.
TO BE LOVED OR RESPECTED: Respect from others and love from family.
BEAUTY OR BRAINS: Brains.
DOGS OR CATS: Dogs.
LAYER 05: DO THEY
LIE: I hate it when people lie to my face, but I'm not an innocent either.
BELIEVE IN THEMSELVES: Yes, I do.
BELIEVE IN LOVE: Yes
WANT SOMEONE: *quirks his eyebrows* I'm hapilly married. Avery is only one I want.
LAYER 06: HAVE THEY
BEEN ON STAGE: No
DONE DRUGS: Never in my life.
CHANGED WHO THEY WERE TO FIT IN: No.
LAYER 07: WHAT'S THEIR
FAVORITE COLOR: Dark blue, black, dark green.
FAVORITE ANIMAL: Wolves, dogs, I don't know.
FAVORITE BOOK: I don't know, but the last time I read something was by Faulkner.
FAVORITE GAME: Hope once took me to one of their gatherings in Falls End and it didn't go so well. Although, I had fun like never before, but I have never had such hangover in my life. And I have to warn you about Sharky's home-made liquor. Strong as hell.
LAYER 08: AGE
DAY THEIR NEXT BIRTHDAY WILL BE: 2nd February
HOW OLD THEY WILL BE: 33
LAYER 09:
I LOVE: Enjoying days with my family and friends or spending time in the woods.
I FEEL: Fine
I HIDE: Nothing you need to know about.
I MISS: Parents. I miss them very much.
I WISH: To stop asking me these odd questions.
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LAYER 01: THE OUTSIDE
NAME: Hayley Louise Moore but friends calls me Hale.
EYE COLOUR: Olive green
HAIR STYLE / COLOUR: Semi-long chocolate hair and at the ends it turns into soft waves.
HEIGHT: 5′5″
CLOTHING STYLE: It's usually a blouse and a pencil skirt, but also a dress. But what I love most are my sweaters and sweatpants, which I wear in the late evenings while reading books.
BEST PHYSICAL FEATURE: I run around the docks every morning so I'd say legs. Nature here isn't like in Atlanta or New Orleans, but it's much more beautiful.
LAYER 02: THE INSIDE
FEAR: *laughs* Well, my husband's flying. Like, I'm not afraid of flying, but the last time he took me with him and he did his wild stunts like front flips or whatever he calls it, I almost killed him after we landed. I'm not kidding. *shift in her lovechair* Affirmination and I are not friends.
GUILTY PLEASURE: Dancing while vacuuming or cleaning the ranch.
BIGGEST PET PEEVE:
AMBITIONS FOR THE FUTURE: Seeing my kids grow up into the wonderful adults we're with John trying to raise.
LAYER 03: THOUGHTS
FIRST THOUGHTS WAKING UP: New day new beginning. Morning is my favourite time of day.
WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT MOST: Kids, Family, you know stuff like this.
WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT BEFORE BED: Sleep, only sleep, and maybe something else, *whisper while leaning closer* but that's not appropriate.
WHAT THEY THINK THEIR BEST QUALITY IS: My persuasive skills. I always get what I want because I learned from the best, I know.
LAYER 04: EITHER OR
SINGLE OR GROUP DATES:  Single, certainly single. Actually I think I've never been to a group dates before.
TO BE LOVED OR RESPECTED: Both
BEAUTY OR BRAINS: Brains. No matter how handsome or beautiful you are, I care how you will deal with difficult situations so I choose brains.
DOGS OR CATS: Cats
LAYER 05: DO THEY
LIE: Not often, but only here and there.
BELIEVE IN THEMSELVES: Yep.
BELIEVE IN LOVE: I do.
WANT SOMEONE: Why are you asking? Only my husband.
LAYER 06: HAVE THEY
BEEN ON STAGE: Nope
DONE DRUGS: No, it will completely destroy your brain.
CHANGED WHO THEY WERE TO FIT IN: I've never been able to pretend who I'm not, so no.
LAYER 07: WHAT'S THEIR
FAVORITE COLOR: I don't have a favourite colour, but my wardrobe mostly consists of soft colours and black and white combination.
FAVORITE ANIMAL: Cats because of their eyes.
FAVORITE BOOK: Fitzgerald. I love Great Gatsby.
FAVORITE GAME: I don't play games much. I'm not very good at them.
LAYER 08: AGE
DAY THEIR NEXT BIRTHDAY WILL BE: 15th August
HOW OLD THEY WILL BE: 27
LAYER 09:
I LOVE: Watching my husband cook, because have you seen someone like him work around in the kitchen? *glances behind her shoulder* I just adore him.
I FEEL: Good
I HIDE: My cookies!! Listen, I love Jacob, he is my favourite brother in law but he always eats almost everything on plate before I can. I have to be fast if I want at least one or two cookies from Faith.
I MISS: Every now and then I miss my life in Atlanta and my best friend Nadia. *sighs* God, you should meet her, you’d love her.
I WISH: To have at least one of those delicious cookies cause my brother in law just came so if you don't mind I will go.
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awaylaughing · 4 years
Note
Detective asks! 1, 5, 7, 22, 25!
This got...very long...and there could be pictures but I’m an a*hole so you have to put up with text only for picture based qs. v sorry.
1. What’s their name and how do they look?
Beatrix Leigh Roy, better known as Bea. 29, she's 176.1cm/5'9", medium-dark skinned with long, very tight black brown curls and hazel eyes. She favours her mom face wise, which she figures works out in her favour as Rebecca has aged very well. Fun fact, her middle name is based on Vivian Leigh, because Beatrice Vivian sounded too dowdy to her dad, but man he wanted to honour the star.
Korë Yardena Levine. 28, she's 149.9cm/4'11", has a healthy tan even in the dead of winter, and has long honey blonde natural curls. Has dark brown eyes (but you can tell they're brown, they're not dark to the point of looking black, usually). Looks much, much more like her dad, which probably plays into her cool relationship with her mom on some level tbh. Her given name raises eyebrows, but her dad had an INTENSE classics phase as a kid - has never not been Cora on a coffee cup, though (she doesn’t care, it’s technically the same name, she says).
Magdalena Gayarti Eyre - known exclusively as Maida to most of Wayhaven and the world a large. 32, proudly 184cm/6'0", fairly dark skinned, has medium length wavy-curly dark brown hair she wears in a bob and grey eyes. Doesn't hugely favour either parent, with a pretty even mixture but often get compared more to her dad due to the uniquely striking grey eyes. Also has a dramatic polosis patch that she styles to frame her face. Used to have magenta hair, kind of misses it but thinks the Mayor and Captain would probably have aneurysms if she did, and she's not ready for the responsibility of running the town, you know?
Pia Renee Kontaveit. 28, 169.3cm/5'6" of whoopass - red hair, pale skin that goes blotchy when she's mad or mildly excited, and bright, light green eyes. Surprisingly unfreckled, something she was thankful for as a kid and kinda resents now. Other than the eye colour, is Rebecca's near perfect clone and Does Not Like It. Her middle name was mostly picked because it sounded good with Pia - they just didn’t have any strong feelings about a second name, but not having one seemed troublesome given how paperwork works in the western hemisphere.
5. How are they with people?
Bea is...decent. She's a terrible liar, but she's good at playing Good Cop for the people of Wayhaven. She's a little anxious, so sometimes going off script means she just gets all stiff and procedural, and thus stiff.
Korë is all about people, she's Princess Charming - highly social, very charming, very genuine, exceedingly friendly. She loves people, and people love her.
Maida has a very quirky charm to her. She gets people exceedingly well, but not all people get her. Her style of joking often passes over head, but she doesn't mind at all.
Pia is sarcastic and hot headed, but tries to treat people well. In general, she's not going to get away with things the way Maida or Kore can, but her misspent youth means a little charm isn't something she considers useless.
7. Who is their Love Interest and why?
Bea is with Adam because, from a narrative stand point, pitting two repressed workaholics against one another and seeing who loses more is fun. From an in world scenario - Bea finds it easy to related to Adam, because she too uses professionalism as a way to evade feeling uncomfortable. She's also viscerally attracted to him because, well, A's hot stuff - but in deep denial about this fact which leaves her confused, and thus antsy and thus...acting more and more professional. Basically, it's a clusterfuck and it's GREAT to play - she also actually dates Ava but I tend to think of Adam as her main romance.
Korë is in it for the long haul with Mason and if you asked her why, she would give you a heart breakingly despairing look and admit she hoped you might know. In truth, Korë just started off so, so deeply attracted to him, and then somehow it became feelings? She’s not sure how And so now she's refusing to sleep with him because she feels like it's not fair to either of them - not fair to her to overstep her own boundaries, not fair to Mason to involve him in future complications he's explicitly said he doesn't want. Narratively, it's because Little Miss Sunshine vs. Mason is hilarious, and my outside POV is Mason’s clear respect for her boudaries suddenly appearing was just v sexy to Korë. And also because if you don't sleep with M ain combo with an ex-Bobby route, they become narrative foils.
Maida dates Farrah because Maida loves the world and having fun, and F also loves the world and having fun. Maida also deeply values Farrah's open emotions, something that's super rare to find, she's noticed in her life. It's unique, it's beautiful, Farrah is kind, and Farrah is very hot and very into her. The perfect recipe! (I have less to say about Maida and Farrah not bc they're not adorable and interesting but bc there's less Drama to outline lmfao)
Pia dates Nate AND Nat because after a lifetime of rebellion, terrible choices in friends and bad relationships, getting swept of her feet by a true blue romantic was shocking and unexpected, and thus she had no defenses against it. Also she just really likes N as a person - and N is so attractive and suave she could CRY.
22. Do they go to the bar or stay at the station?
Bea stays in, she doesn't drink, doesn't much like bars and is at that point very strung out and overwhelmed. The idea of socializing was just exhausting - Bobby's making her wish she'd gone, though.
Korë stayed at the office - she actually did intend to finish her report and go home, because she was exhausted and also didn't want the morning call from the Mayor about taking time to herself in public during a crisis. She considered going though - she misses Tina.
Maida goes out, but she doesn't drink because she was there to get the lay of the population and also not neglect her relationship with Tina. And because burn out is bad.
Pia goes out because fuck it she does need that drink, and also she loves and misses Tina, and she loves to nurse a drink at the bar and just chat with people.
25. What do they usually wear? Has that changed?
Bea dresses professionally - pants suit, nice shirt, sensible shoes. And don't forget the bling - gold and dainty, thanks. She's done so since she was in university, and isn't likely to change despite it being a bit much for Wayhaven. Casually though, she's a leggings and shirt dresses kinda girl, and also unlikely to change because she wears pants to work and is that not enough??? Favours Mary Jane loafers or heels, in work and in life.
Korë is a pressed dress and smart pants or skirt girl - with some tasteful jewelry, though she sticks to a few bracelets and her inherited fancy old watch, mostly. The swap from pants to skirts is largely dictated by weather - pants are warm. Has a gold-star in getting the seams of those back seam-tights to line up correctly, and uses that power to devastating effect. Only wears heels once in a blue moon - presumably now used only to torment Mason, otherwise has an awesome collection of oxfords, brogues and saddlebacks. Casually, she's a big shirts and small pants type of girl, and ugly comfortable sneakers.
Maida dresses fairly modernly for work, but errs professional because she's like, vaguely aware of the image she should be presenting. Still likely to be wearing a brightly patterend shawl despite this. And could not be convinced to take out the piercings anywhere except her eyebrow and tongue. Casually though - her style is probably best described as "your uncle, c. 1980 at the horse track in Tallahasse" meets boho-traveller who doesn't believe in colour coordination. Often wearing no fewer than three patterns, and loves her a collection of layers. Shoes wise, Maida's a purely sneaker or Big Black Boots girl. Is very unlikely to change this up, because why would she? She's spent 30 years cultivating this look, while she might tweak it, it's comfy and she likes how it looks. At work though, anything could happen - maybe she'll start wearing trousers instead of skinny jeans. Maybe not - hard to say with Maida!
Pia dresses almost exactly how you'd dress a scrappy former rebel turned cop to dress - jeans she can actually move in, inoffensive tee shirts and a nice green jacket she had to take all her old patches off, and has finally mostly become same-level faded all over it. Loves her Doc Martins in the casual sphere, but they're not good for chasing miscreants so she grudgingly sticks to sneakers she deems not too ugly. Outside of work, the only real change is the jeans are more liky to sag or have holes, and the tee shirts are all band tees. Will likely change at some point, but hasn't yet because she stubbornly sticking to her fashion because Pia's never let anything in her life go without a fight, even when Pia herself would like a change.
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riyuu-bsd · 5 years
Text
Love me! [Yandere!Dazai Osamu x Reader]
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"Love me, (Y/n)!~" Dazai chimed, sat opposite the (h/c)ette with his face resting on his pale, almost ghostly, knuckles.
"Dazai, what are you doing?" she asked plainly,
"Ne? What do you mean?" he asked, cocking his head to the side innocently with a smile,
"You're usually off trying to drown yourself by now, why bother me out of everyone here?" the lady sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as though in attempt to stop her obvious irritation to the bandaged male. The (h/c)ette rolled her eyes,
"And what's the deal with 'love me', it's not the best of opening sentences," she continued with a scowl.
"Because I want you to love me, plain and simple," he smiled, "Or have you still not gotten over Chuuya?"
"That's none of your business, Dazai," she retorted coldly, a furious glaze over gorgeous, (e/c) eyes.
"I was right," he chimed, before realing she probably was less likely to love him now.
Fuck.
He was going to have to help her get over Chuuya in his more.. Resourceful.. Method.
.
.
.
.
.
"Mackerel? The fuck are you doing here?!" Chuuya snapped, seeing Dazai enter his room,
"We have some.. Unfinished business," the brunette said, a somewhat sinister smirk forming on his face. The small red head whipped around, ready to engage in a fight with his comrade.
Until he felt the blade glide across his neck.
"W-what the fuck?" he whispered to himself, before looking up to see the taller male with a small, sharp blade, "YOU BASTARD!" he roared, feebly attempting to cover the wound. The brunette gripped at his shoulder, restraining his ability.
"You think she'll love me now?" Dazai asked, reverting from his enraged mood to his normal, irritatingly cheery one.
"Wh-who the fuck would ever love you?" Chuuya growled, kicking at him in attempt to free himself, coughs and splutters of crimson blood staining his shirt, seeming to avoid Dazai and leave him immaculate.
"That's what I found myself thinking about you," he chimed, before bringing the knife back to his throat, "Now answer me; now that you're out of the way, do you think (Y/n) will love me?"
"(Y/n)? How am I the obstacle?!" he scowled, feeling the blood pour from his wound.
"She still loves you, but if there's no you to love, she can come running to me!" he sighed dreamily,
"You're crazier than I thought.." Chuuya snapped, brows furrowed in fury.
"That's the wrong answer," Dazai smirked, running the blade painfully slowly across the shorter male's neck, clamping a hand over his mouth so he couldn't scream.
.
.
Seconds passed.
.
.
Seconds that dragged on far too long.
.
.
His body fell limp, eliciting a victorious smirk from his brunette rival.
.
.
Blood continued to drip from the corpse.
.
.
Tears filled large, blue eyes.
.
.
Tears filled with regrets he noticed in the final moments of his life.
.
.
The all too apathetic tone that Chuuya had resented sounded once more, seeing him off mockingly.
.
.
"Where's that wine you love so much? You did preserve it for a special occasion."
.
.
.
//Timeskip//
.
.
.
"Ah! I can't wait to see her again!" Dazai grinned to himself, swinging his legs absent mindedly on the chair.
"Who, Dazai-San?" Atsushi asked, naivety obvious in his tone,
"My beloved (Y/n)-Sama," he smiled, taking a sip from his seventh coffee that morning.
"Do you have a history with her?" the younger male pried, curious as to who someone Dazai referred to as a goddess would have to do.
"Remember how I was a mafia executive?" he began, resting his hands on pale, almost ghostly, knuckles.
"You were a mafia executive?!" the tiger boy exclaimed, looking at his mentor with a dhocked expression.
"Yeah, of course I w-"
Ding!
"Dazai? Really? I told you to fuck off last time, besides, you're with these shitty detectives now," the (h/c)ette snapped, stepping through the door.
"(Y/n)-San! It's been a while," Dazai smiled, as if she hadn't just insulted him and his comrades,
"Can you just fuck off? And who's this piece of shit you're with?" she interrogated, statements conflicting.
Anger and curiosity swirled in her head, leaving her unsure of what to do and how to react.
"No, (Y/n), not until you tell me what I want to hear, and this is Atsushi, you may know him as the ma-"
"Dazai, who is this?" Kunikada snapped, pointing an accusihg finger at the lady in the doorway.
"This is (Y/n), my girlfriend!" Dazai smiled, jumping to her side and slinging an arm around her, "She's irritable, but I still love her.~"
She elicited no protest, knowing that no matter how much she hated Dazai for killing Chuuya, it was smarter to play along than be caught by the detective agency at this moment.
His hold on her felt like scolding iron, attempting to brand her as his own but merely causing her distress and anger.
They both hated it.
Dazai wanted her to know that he was the one she should be with.
Not Chuuya.
Not Mori.
Not Gin.
She was his, and only his.
He could encapsulate that forever in a Romeo and Juliet-esc double suicide.
(Y/n) wished he wouldn't attempt to make her his own.
She was allowed love.
She was allowed assistance.
She was allowed friendship.
Three things she would refuse from someone like him; suicide obsessed and having lost the plot.
"(Y/n), how's about we go on a date?" Dazai grinned, holding her hand tightly.
"..Sure.." she answered, attempting to free her hand from his,
"Great, let's go!"
.
.
Sat in silence, the lady felt tears well in her eyes.
"Why did you do it? Why did you kill him?" she demanded, ripping her hand from his vice-like grip and slamming him against a wall, fingers gripped tightly at his throat.
"Isn't it obvious? I did for you, so you would love me," the insane brunette smiled, holding her wrist and tracing patterns into it, "I invited you to sit with us and have a drink; it was his fabourite, you should've stayed with me and honoured him."
"You're one crazy son of a bitch," she seethed, gripping tighter.
"Asphyxiation? From someone as gorgeous as you? That's almost as good as the double suicide," Dazai choked, still smiling widely at the contact with her.
She scowled, punching him repeatedly.
He was left bruised and bleeding, she assumed for the dead.
"You're pathetic, gross, vile, now get the fuck out of my way," she snapped, landing a final kick where the sun doesn't shine.
Walking away from the male, she was struck with the memory of finding out.
Stepping into the somewhat lavish room without a knock, the (h/c)ette stared in horror. Her eyes were cast upon Chuuya's fresh corpse, blood splattered all over his attire and carpet. She couldn't scream. Couldn't shout. Couldn't cry for help. Couldn't move. She was helpless, paralysed in fear. The tone she least expected–or wanted–to hear at this moment spoke up,
"Oh! (Y/n)-Sama!" Dazai smiled, feigning a shocked expression, "Would you like to join us? It's his favourite wine, afterall."
"The fuck did you do to Chuuya?!" she snarled. An almost hurt expression formed on Dazai's features,
"Do you not like it?" he said, a whiny undertone to his voice.
His incessant whining tuned out, the lady observing the blood splattered walls with a twisted grimace. The stacks of hats he had collected was knocked over, covering picture frames of when they were together.
Had he still loved her, as well?
Dazai's irritating voice tuned back in,
"He scribbled your face out, you know," he said, looking down, "I don't think he ever loved you.."
She zoned back out, tears threatening to fall. Wine bottles lay scattered and broken on the floor, no less than shards of coloured glass he had treasured and hoarded. The wallpaper was covering in his own blood, messages from Dazai causing her to gag. The man had killed the one she loved, then mocked him in his own space, scrawling messages and insults onto the once pristine walls. Her eyes fixated on the table his corpse was slumped over, she looked on with a dark expression. Her legs began to move, stepping over to the black marble and kicking away the vase of roses laid out. She began to lash out at Dazai, screaming questions that availed with no answers. Tears flowed freely down her face, slamming the brunette's head off of the wall. He did nothing in retaliation.
"Theres the death you wanted so bad, suicidal freak," she snarled, pointing her gun to shoot him in the back of the head.
"Make me suffer," the male rasped, "Make me suffer the pain of living, (Y/n).. Living without y-"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP, BASTARD," she roared, shooting his arm repeatedly.
"There, now if I die it's you revenge, and if I live I'm without the most inportant thing to me," he whispered, vision blurring.
"I hope that whatever the fuck that is rots in hell."
Tears still threatened to fall, the memory alone enough to tip her over the edge.
.
.
//Timeskip//
.
.
Returning to the security of her room after a long day of assassinations, she sighed, dropping onto her bed. The events that occured earlier that week still remained fresh in her mind, like an ooen wound that refused to close because everytime she walked it was pulled further open. Everything reminded her of Chuuya, his death and her hatred for Dazai. She became more like the short read head, angered by mostly anything and with a passionate hatred for the brunette.
Crawling into nightwear and getting comfortable in her bed, she shivered as she felt arms wrap around her, warm breath against her neck and heard five simple words.
"Do you love me yet?"
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