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joycrispy · 8 months

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I wanna talk about The Angel Who Would Be Crowley.

Because I had a certain set of expectations, which got thoroughly trashed in the first five minutes of S2, and my genuine response is, "Oh, fuck, yup. You're right. That's WAY better."

Looking around at GO fandom, I'm not alone in this. So let's talk about it.

Basically, a lot of people (myself included) believed that he was a high-ranking angel, and therefore as chilly and remote as every other powerful angel we'd seen at that point. We pictured Crowley-To-Be as long-haired, regal and imposing --and the fanart at the time reflected this. I'd link some if Tumblr didn't hate links.

Something like this:

We were collectively drawing on a few things --mostly, Crawly's appearance and general bearing in the Biblical scenes of S1--

--But also scattered hints of his importance, backed up by conspicuous absences in Heaven and a few profound displays of power. That's all better covered elsewhere, so I won't reiterate the arguments here. All I'm saying is: I think our headcanons were justified.

But it turns out he was this:

!!!

With his curly little--!!

And his neat white--!!

IT TURNS OUT, he was an angel who squeaked and squealed when he was happy; who flailed his arms around and made explosion noises with his mouth to explain nebulas; who preened when told his stars were pretty. Furfur, who knew him before the Fall, says:

"You used to jump on me back, little monkey in a waistcoat..."

(The use of a diminutive there, 'little'...oh, that fascinates me.)

In a pretty huge subversion of expectations, we're given these glimpses of an angel who was sweet, and joyful, and heart-meltingly silly.

In sum...an innocent.

(Perhaps innocent to a troubling degree.

We see how he troubles Aziraphale, during their first conversation. He starts looking around and behind them, checking to make sure that no one can HEAR the blithe and reckless things coming out of this angel's mouth. This angel who talks like he's never been reprimanded in his life; like it's never occurred to him that anyone would want to hurt him.

Before the Beginning, Aziraphale understood Heaven better than he did. The danger is plainly occurring to Aziraphale.)

So now, we the viewers are in on a cruel joke that Aziraphale has known all along, which is that this --THIS-- is the angel who--

*checks notes*

--did a million lightyear freestyle dive into a boiling pool of sulphur. For asking questions.

...Imagine you are Aziraphale, and everything inside you wants to believe Heaven are the Good Guys, and God is Good and Everything She does is capital-R Right...and now try to reconcile that. Keep trying. I don't think he ever totally managed it in 6000 years.

All this gets further complicated when we learn that, despite all of the above, we were still right. That sweet excitable babby up there?

He WAS a powerful and high-ranking angel.

That much is explicitly confirmed, with significant evidence that he could have been among the mightiest of archangels...

...Who apparently accosted his fellow angels for piggyback rides. And was remembered millennia later by those (now fallen) angels as something 'little.'

What does that tell us about who he was? Is?

Hell, Aziraphale has known to be wary of the archangels (and the judgements of Heaven in general) since before the Fall even happened. He chooses to believe they are Good; he can't fool himself into thinking they are Safe.

Yet he's absolutely certain that Crowley won't hurt Job's children. Enough to stand in a burning building and say to them, "I can't save you, but don't be afraid. I won't need to."

And what reason does he give?

("I know you."

"You do not know me."

"I know the angel you were.")

What does that tell us about who he was? Is?

("The angel you knew is not me."

But how is Aziraphale supposed to believe that, when he can see him all the time?)

tl;dr --yes, this is better. I love the tragedy of it.

'Innocence died screaming' and all that.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #Crowley #Aziraphale #good omens 2 #good omens meta

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esthermitchell-author · 7 months

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I know I'm likely to get some backlash over this... But please just hear me out, first.

I don't believe, for even a second, that Crowley needs a protector. He doesn't need Azi to fight his battles for him, or be his guardian, or anything like that. Maybe the angel he once was might have. But, as Crowley has said more than once, that angel isn't him. That angel is dead, gone, buried. He wants no part of whoever they were.

Crowley the demon can fight his own battles just fine. In fact, in becoming a demon, he has -- by odd twist -- BECOME the protector. As Azi states so clearly, nothing makes Crowley happier than getting to rescue his angel -- getting to be the hero appeals to Crowley on a very deep level. I believe it is what fuels his inner goodness, reminds him he's not JUST the outer shell the world sees, either.

What Crowley NEEDS is a HEALER. Crowley is deeply, fundamentally broken. (Please don't throw things at me. I'm not suggesting he needs fixed in any way. That's NOT what I mean by "broken.") He's been stepped on, cast out, mangled and mistreated in so many ways, by so many people, his soul is a fractured mess of PTSD, pain, and a deep-seated fear of trusting anyone, or making himself even the slightest bit vulnerable. He covers these over with a great deal of sarcasm, snark, and general feigned boredom with whatever situation is currently triggering him in horrible ways.

Crowley is like a combination of grizzled old warrior and beaten dog. He's jumping at shadows, at every possible threat or loud noise, even before S2. By S2 he's slid into a state of hyper-vigilance that's the other side of the universe from healthy (I know... I live there. I can recognize the signs at a glance).

What he needs is a healing touch. Gentleness. A loving touch that tells him it's okay to be broken, that he'll heal with time, and he's good enough just the way he is, right now. He needs someone with that softness. He needs love, and belonging, and to know that it's okay to put down the load when it gets heavy -- the world won't fall apart if he takes a moment to breathe and actually enjoy something.

I firmly believe all of that is Aziraphale. Azi's a healer to his core. I know everyone keeps going on about swords and warriors and protectors, and I'm not doubting Azi's capable of standing on his own two feet and of protecting others. But that's not what Crowley needs. He needs Azi's softness. His healing touch. His gentle words and calm voice. He needs Azi to say "You belong right here, with me, just as you are." I think we'll see that, before it's all over. Azi can't help but be soft and gentle with Crowley. He just needs to get out of his own way, and show Crowley everything he's holding back.

#good omens #good omens fandom #aziracrow #azicrow #aziraphale x crowley #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #ineffable spouses #crowley

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hang-on-lil-tomato · 4 months

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please comment on articles like this…

the link SHOULD take you to yahoo entertainment, so if this doesn’t work, search on yahoo’s site.

#yahoo entertainment #ofmd #our flag means death #rhys darby #stede bonnet #ofmd s2 #renew as a crew #renewasacrew #our flag means death fandom #make some noise #love wins #our flag means ghey and woke #they can get over it

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dandylovesturtles · 1 month

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I should be asleep lol

Immediately post-S2

———

Donnie grew up in the sewers, so maybe he has no room to judge, but Draxum’s apartment is pretty terrible.

The first night - after they defeated Shredder, with their home so destroyed they couldn’t return, Draxum had (only a little begrudgingly) offered them a place to stay - Donnie had been so tired he hadn’t given it a second thought. He’d collapsed in the nest of blankets and sleeping bags they’d made and slept blissfully through the night. He learned the next morning that Raph had not gotten much sleep at all, too keyed up and full of adrenaline, but the rest of them had conked out immediately.

The second night, Raph had joined them in sawing logs. And they’d all slept soundly through the third night, too. But now it’s night four, and Donnie’s finally well-rested enough to realize that everything is very wrong.

The sheets are a different texture. The thermostat is set too low. The ambient sounds of the apartment building are not the ambient sounds of the sewer.

His dad’s snores from the couch and Raph’s deep rumble are familiar, at least. Both of them are out, Splinter the first to fall asleep that evening in front of Draxum’s crummy TV. Even Leo is asleep again, his insomnia yet to rear its ugly head, and Donnie can’t help but be a little jealous.

And of course, Mikey can sleep anywhere and anytime, so Donnie knows without even looking that he’s asleep. It’s just Donnie awake, then, staring at the ceiling and trying to will away the persistent itch of incorrectness.

At least, that’s what Donnie was thinking, until he hears a distinct sniffling noise from the pile of sheets that is his little brother.

Donnie goes as still and quiet as he can, listening closely. Maybe he just misheard? No, but that was definitely another sniffle… and the mound of sheets is quivering, now.

Mikey is crying. Donnie’s little brother is crying, and he may not be the one who usually handles these things, but Donnie is still a big brother, and more importantly he is the big brother who is awake.

He sits up, blanket draped around his shoulders, and carefully scoots himself around Leo’s tangle of limbs. Then he flops down next to Mikey’s mound, reaching out to lay a hand on top.

“Mikey?” he whispers.

There’s some shuffling, and then Mikey’s face peeks out from under his sheets. His eyes are wet, visible even in the dim light of the room, and he keeps snorting. Donnie makes a gallant effort not to flinch at the sound.

“Dee?” Another sniffle. “Did I wake you up?”

“No, I was already awake.” He rubs at the mound, for all the good it will do. “Are you okay?”

Mikey snorts hard, then blinks furiously to banish his tears. It doesn’t work. “I’m fine,” he insists, but it comes out hoarse and stuffy.

Donnie holds up a finger, then pushes himself to his feet. He pads across the apartment to the coffee table they’d shoved aside to make room and retrieves a box of tissues that he brings back, setting it pointedly in front of Mikey.

Finally, Mikey sits up, letting the sheets pool around him. He pulls out two tissues and blows his nose as quietly as he can - it’s still pretty loud, but Splinter’s snoring covers it up.

“Thanks,” he whispers once he’s done, tossing the balled up tissues to the side. Donnie pointedly ignores them (no matter how gross) and focuses on the matter at hand.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, not giving Mikey an out this time.

Mikey chews his lip. “It’s just… hitting me finally, I guess.”

Donnie tilts his head. “What is?”

“That… that the lair’s really gone. That we’re not going back.” New tears spring to his eyes, and Mikey grabs another tissue. “It’s just… I mean, we saw it yesterday, but… I don’t know. It’s l-like I didn’t really g-get it until right now.”

His voice is wobbling hard by the end. He chokes off a sob, rubbing his nose furiously with the tissue. Donnie knows that there’s definitely snot on Mikey’s fingers and probably his arms, too, but he can’t watch this anymore. He offers Mikey a hug, his arms barely open a second before Mikey is throwing himself into it.

As Mikey holds onto him and cries, Donnie thinks about the day before (well, really the day before the day before - it’s after three AM, now). They’d gone to the lair, to see what they could salvage. Everyone had been subdued; even Leo wasn’t managing to joke like he normally would. Only Mikey was still upbeat, able to see the silver lining in every cloud, cheering over every item they found that was still intact enough to bring with them, encouraging them to come back later and look for more.

Maybe they’d been a little too complacent that Mikey was going to be okay, after all that. But of course he isn’t; he loves their home as much as the rest. Sewers and all.

“We’re homeless, aren’t we?” asks Mikey after a minute or two. Donnie hasn’t really thought of it like that, but now that Mikey has said it, he knows he can’t refute it.

“In the technical sense, yes,” he says, and regrets it when Mikey bursts into a fresh round of tears. For the first time in his life, he abhors technical correctness.

But while it may be correct in the technical sense, what about other senses?

Donnie pulls Mikey down onto the sleeping bag, then works the sheets and his blanket over the both of them. Finally, he snakes a hand around to grab another fistful of tissues for Mikey, passing them over without dislodging Mikey from his hug.

“Do you know what I think Dr. Feelings would say, if he were here?” Donnie asks, once they’re both settled.

Mikey blows his nose again, then peers up at Donnie. “What?”

“I think he would say that home is where the heart is. As long as you’re with me, and Leo and Raph and Dad, you can’t be homeless.”

He delivers this with a great amount of conviction, so he can’t help but be a smidge irritated when Mikey laughs.

“Hey! I’m trying to help!”

“I know!” Mikey giggles, burying his face against Donnie’s plastron and lightly head butting into his chin. “That was a really great Dr. Feelings, Dee. Thank you.”

“…Hm, well, I was just passing along his recommendation.”

Mikey hums. There’s still a bit of a wheeze from breathing through a stuffy nose, but he sounds like he’s stopped crying.

“Hey, Donnie?”

“Yeah?”

“Love ya.”

“I love you, too.”

Sleep doesn’t find Donnie that night. But it finds Mikey, and he considers that a win.

#rottmnt #dandy fanfiction #rise Donnie #rise mikey

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bylerween2023 · 9 months

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Announcing the daily themes for Bylerween!

Each day has three themes: one horror theme, one in-show theme, and one fluff theme. Feel free to use inspiration from just one, two, or all three themes for each day!

Day 1, October 26:

Ghosts & Hauntings

Trapped in the Upside Down

Haunted House

Day 2, October 27:

Slashers, Gore & Body Horror

Demogorgon & Flesh Monster

Halloween Party

Day 3, October 28:

Demons, Devils & Exorcisms

Will’s S2 Possession

Pumpkin Patch & Apple Orchard

Day 4, October 29:

Psychological Horror

Attacked by Vecna

Sweater Weather

Day 5, October 30:

Came Back Wrong

Flayed!Mike/Flayed!Will

Carnival Night

Day 6, October 31:

Supernatural Creatures

Trick or Treat, Freak (2x02)

Trick or Treating

Day 7, November 1:

Witches, Wizards & Necromancers

D&D

Renaissance Festival

***

Rules and guidelines for posting can be found in our intro post here.

Extra prompts and ideas for these themes are under the Read More cut! Also, look below to see which themes are Double Date Night themes. For Double Date Nights themes, we encourage other ships to be featured along with Byler (but it's not required)!

amazing art by @light-lanterne!!

Here are some additional ideas that you can use as inspiration for each day's themes! You don't need to follow these prompts at all, but feel free to jump off of these ideas.

Day 1 - Ghosts & Hauntings, Trapped in the UD, Haunted House:

Ghosts & Hauntings - Mike and Will move into their first home together... but it's haunted. Ghost!Will haunts Mike, or Ghost!Mike haunts Will. Ghost movie AU. Young Mike and Will hide from a scary ghost in the closet or under the bed. A midnight stroll through a graveyard goes wrong.

Trapped in the UD - “It’s like home, but it’s so dark. It’s so dark and empty. And it’s cold!” Mike, Will, or both are trapped in the Upside Down this Halloween.

Haunted House - Creaking floors, spiderwebs, skeletons, and spiders! Mike and Will break into the scary, abandoned house down the street, only to run away when there's a creepy noise coming from the attic. Did Mike and Will get part time jobs as monster actors at the Hawkins Haunted House this October, or are they just going to the Haunted House as guests? Double Date Night: we encourage you to feature other ships with this theme!

Day 2 - Slashers, Gore & Body Horror, Demogorgon & the Flesh Monster, Halloween Party

Slashers, Gore & Body Horror - Slasher movie AU’s. Serial killer Byler, cannibalism Byler, or Frankenstein Byler.

Demogorgon & Flesh Monster - Looking back at our S1 and S3 monsters! The demogorgon or flesh monster are on the prowl and looking for victims this Halloween.

Halloween Party - What costumes are Mike and Will wearing to the party? Who has a few drinks, gets a little extra silly, and starts some drama? What feelings bubble up at the party? Loud music and dancing, spilled drinks, drunken confessions, and kissing in the dark corner of the room. Double Date Night: we encourage you to feature other ships with this theme!

Day 3 - Demons, Devils & Exorcisms, Will’s S2 Possession, Pumpkin Patch & Apple Orchard

Demons, Devils & Exorcism - Will and Mike make a deal with the devil. Demon x Exorcist enemies to lovers AU. Exorcism movie AU.

Will’s S2 Possession - Looking back the scenes of Will saying ominous things, not remembering the names of his loved ones, Mike sitting by Will’s bedside in the hospital, and the shed scene. What if Mike had been possessed instead of Will? What if Mike and Will were already dating in S2 when Will was possessed?

Pumpkin Patch & Apple Orchard - Picking out the biggest pumpkin at the pumpkin patch, carving pumpkins, baking pumpkin treats, and wearing ugly pumpkin sweaters. Getting lost in the apple orchard, climbing trees together, picking apples, drinking apple cider. Riding the hay bale and sneaking kisses.

Day 4 - Psychological Horror, Attacked by Vecna, Sweater Weather

Psychological Horror - Ramp up the horror, terror, paranoia, and fear! Psychological horror movie AU.

Attacked by Venca - Looking back at our S4 villain, and the horror filled visions he uses to attack his prey. Vecna returns on Halloween this year.

Sweater Weather - Everyone wants to cuddle up once the weather gets colder! Mike and Will start wearing their cozy sweaters and flannels. Falling leaves, hot cocoa, bonfire nights, smores, and camping.

Day 5 - Came Back Wrong, Flayed!Mike & Flayed!Will, Carnival Night

Came Back Wrong - Resurrecting your beloved childhood friend and sweetheart from death comes with a price... they're not the same now as they were before. A call back to good ol' Phineas Gage.

Flayed!Mike & Flayed!Will - Rethinking S3 if Mike or Will were flayed. Suspicions are raised and fear mounts: Mike or Will aren't quite acting like themselves and it's a fight to rescue them from their gruesome fate!

Carnival Night - Will and Mike play carnival games and go on rides. Bobbing for apples, getting lost in the corn maze, face painting, and feasting on carnival food. Double Date Night: we encourage you to feature other ships with this theme!

Day 6 - Supernatural Creatures, Trick or Treat, Freak (2x02), Trick or Treating

Supernatural Creatures - Vampires, and werewolves, and monsters, oh my! Mike and Will encounter a supernatural creature this Halloween, but is it friend or foe? Will as a werewolf, Mike as a vampire, Will as a goblin, Mike as a centaur? The options are endless! Monster x Monster Hunter AU.

Trick or Treat, Freak (2x02) - A look back on our beloved Halloween episode. Mike is complaining about Max, Will sees the Mind Flayer looming in the sky, and Mike takes Will home. Crazy together, right?

Trick or Treating - Mike and Will take Holly out trick or treating. Adult Mike and Will hand out candy. The early years of Mike and Will trick or treating with the party, TP-ing a bully’s house, and swapping candy afterward at home.

Day 7 - Witches, Wizards & Necromancy, D&D, Renaissance Festival

Witches, Wizards & Necromancy - Witch covens, a trickster wizard, or a necromancer raising zombies from the dead! A witch hunter falls in love with a witch, or Zombie Boy comes back to life.

D&D - Paladin Mike and Will the Wise celebrate the spooky season! Redecorate the Will the Wise costume with some Halloween vibes, or alter Will's S4 painting of the party to give it a spooky twist.

Renaissance Festival - Dressing up as knights, fairies, wizards, and more! The knights are jousting, everyone is eating a turkey leg, and Mike and Will are playing ax throwing games. Entertainers are juggling swords, fire eating, and putting on raunchy comedy skits. Are Mike and Will attending as guests, or working at the Renaissance Festival this fall? Double Date Night: we encourage you to feature other ships with this theme!

#byler #bylerween2023 #themes #mod post #day 1 #day 2 #day 3 #day 4 #day 5 #day 6 #day 7 #d&d

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mcumorningstar · 1 month

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A Rose By Any Other Name || Part One

part two part three

series pairing: tommy shelby x reader, hints of john shelby x reader, hints of tommy x lizzie

summary: Resigned to a life as a whore, the infamous Shelby brothers find you in a compromising position and you apprehensively accept their protection. (Set in s2).

warnings: 18+ minor’s dni, prostitution, 1920s attitudes toward women and prostitution (physical and verbal aggression), unprotected sex, alcohol consumption, typical peaky blinders content, (slow burn sorry)

author’s note: I was bored and it’s missing Tommy Shelby hours (he’s so fit I can’t cope). This is kinda short but I’m hoping to make it a series. Also this is the first fic so if anyone reads please be nice :)

Work was a little more bearable if they fucked you from behind.

That way you could imagine the man rutting into you was a handsome actor like Tom Mix or Rudolph Valentine, or even a dashing soldier in his uniform, and not some brutish married factory foreman after too many drinks in The Garrison.

“Mhm fuck,” The nameless man grunted, pulling out and painting splatters of his cum on the backs of your thighs. Whiskey-laced breaths evened out against your skin and his grip on your neck loosened.

You didn’t look at him as the pair of you redressed, only thinking about the money now in your purse. From his clothes, you could deduce that he worked in the BSA factory but he was too clean to work on the factory floor. It was more than you usually knew about your clients and, when he opened his mouth to speak, you winced.

“Does Harry know you’re whoring behind his pub?” The man laughed, slurring his words and pulling his suspenders over his shoulders.

Ignoring him, you fixed your dress and tidied your hair. The brute wrapped his meaty fingers around your jaw and pulled you into him. He was probably quite handsome in his youth.

“Too high and mighty to open your fucking mouth?” He goaded, squashing your cheeks between his calloused fingers, “How much for your mouth?”

Noise from the pub spilled out into the streets, raucous men wasting their wages on cheap liquor. Any plea for help would be futile. Even if they could hear you, a whore caught behind the pub with a man was hardly worth a second look.

“You’re hurting me,” A weak croak escaped your rouge-smudged lips. It was a gift from one of your regulars but maybe wearing it at the local pub was a mistake.

“On the house?” He sneered, yellow teeth and thinning hair visible in the dark of the alley. With an iron grip, he pushed you to your knees, the thick mud and jagged stones cutting into your skin.

Aggressive clients were an unfortunate commonality but, whenever it happened, it was as frightening as the first time.

The scratch of a match drew you from your panicked stupor, crowded against the grimy brick wall.

Light from The Garrison illuminated the alleyway as the backdoor opened and slammed shut, casting the alley into darkness again. Your breath caught in your chest, your fate no longer in your own hands as you silently pleaded for the stranger's presence to startle the man.

A shadow appeared on the wall from the man’s lit cigarette. A Peaky Blinder. Shit.

The man above you stepped back, his eyes on the man’s shadow as it tripled. His jaw tightened before he dragged you to your feet. The commotion caught the three brothers’ attention, their hushed conversation halting.

Thomas Shelby’s scrutinising gaze fixed on you until the man excused himself and hurried out of the alley onto Garrison Lane.

John and Arthur Shelby chuckled, nudging one another and failing to hide their smirks. Whiskey dripped from Arthur's moustache and John's tooth pick hung from the corner of his mouth.

With flushed cheeks, you brushed the tiny and blood-smeared stones from your knees and righted your skirt.

Deep blue eyes didn’t falter, pinning you to the spot.

“Is Lizzie still inside?” You asked meekly, attempting and failing to meet Thomas Shelby’s eyes.

Thick fingers ran his cigarette across his pink lips, taking another drag as his gaze assessed you. Fighting the urge to touch your hair or tug your lip between your teeth, his eyes finally broke away from you and it seemed his assessment of the situation was complete.

You were aware of one another, only by association. Lizzie was now Thomas’ secretary and she dragged you to The Garrison whenever she could. The Shelby brothers acknowledged your presence, as Lizzie’s friend, and they will look out for you as a favour to her.

Arthur broke the silence, his gruff voice full of cheek, “Yeah, talking to a BSA worker. Your fella outranks hers. Does that mean you can charge more?”

For men who frequently pay for whores, they were at ease to laugh at your expense.

It was the middle brother who spared you, snatching the whiskey from the eldest and offering you a swig. Against your better judgment, you took the bottle and swallowed a mouthful or two.

“Don’t worry, his cock went nowhere near my mouth,” You spat with no real bite behind it, “Didn’t want to take the piss with his shallow pockets.”

John and Arthur stood in stunned silence, their cheeks reddening and their eyes averting away from you. A wiser woman may have kept her mouth shut but you were banking on Lizzie to save you from any potential consequences. And you were humiliated, what else did you have to lose?

Thomas took a drink from the bottle before handing it back to his older brother. His deep Brummie lilt travelled through the silence, “We’ll drive you home.”

Without waiting for a response, he headed onto Garrison Lane and the brothers looked at one another, dumbfounded. You weren’t in the business of saying ‘no’ to a Blinder, especially not the Blinder, and especially not after your spiteful words. With shaky legs and sweaty palms, you followed the brothers.

A brand new Bentley was parked in front of The Garrison. Thomas held the passenger door open, finishing his cigarette. Arthur and John wrestled until Arthur manhandled his younger brother into the backseats, releasing his neck from a firm headlock.

Stepping back, Arthur motioned you towards the backseat but Thomas cleared his throat. The two brothers shared a moment of unspoken disagreement.

“I’ll sit in the back. I don’t mind,” You said as if your voice wasn’t yours. Three gangsters within arms reach was more than enough to set your nerves on edge.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. Just a chair,” Arthur grumbled with a soft and crooked smile, as he clambered into the back with a more than delighted John. Smiling politely, you took the passenger seat.

This was your first time in an automobile. Thomas started the engine and glanced over when you crossed your legs, unsure how to sit lady-like in the confined space.

Your skirt rode up as you got comfortable and your grazed knee was exposed. Thomas kept his eyes on the road as he reached into the breast pocket of his suit jacket, handing over a white hanker-chief with a small embroidered T.S in the bottom corner.

Opening your mouth to protest, Thomas cleared his throat and focused on the drive. A silent order to accept the offer. Carefully you dabbed at the small trickles of blood, staining the white fabric, until all that was left was raw, grazed skin.

Thankfully, the drive to your lodgings wasn’t quiet; in fact John and Arthur talked your ear off as they passed the bottle of whiskey between them. You didn’t have much to say, mortified by the situation they found you in and frankly a little terrified to be in a car with the Shelby brothers in the first place.

Thomas was quiet. Lizzie said he’s been like that since he got back from France, but his silence was unnerving as you sailed through the streets of Small Heath.

“You live with Lizzie?” John asked as the car pulled in outside your lodgings and the engine cut. Clumsy hands gripped the back of your seat as he leaned over the front seats to smile at you.

Lizzie said John was a good boy, the best of a bad bunch. Nevertheless, blood rushed in your ears and your fisted the material of your dress at his proximity and hot whiskey breath.

Thomas sighed and lit a cigarette, surprising you when he got out of the car. Plumes of smoke followed him as he rounded the car and opened your car door.

“Yes, I- There’s three of us,” You answered, your scuffed brown heels stepping onto the uneven cobblestones.

“Three whores living together? Sounds like the start of a joke,” John laughed, his tooth pick long gone, and you were pleasantly surprised by the lack of insult in his voice.

“Or a very nice dream,” Arthur chuckled along too, his deep voice at full volume making you jump. With his brother distracted by you and the bottle, John scrambled into the front seat.

Arthur's swift smack to the back of John’s head echoed in the quiet of the street. A small smirk twitched at Thomas' lips but you averted your eyes before he noticed you watching.

"Lizzie is a secretary now, John," You played along, most comfortable with the younger brother. John's shining eyes were glued to you as you searched for your door key.

Arthur scoffed and mumbled against the lip of the bottle, "Yeah, Tommy's secretary." Nobody acknowledged the insinuation that hung in the air.

Opening your front door, you turned to the three men, slightly less afraid than you once were, "Thank you for driving me home. Goodnight."

"Night love," John and Arthur responded; Arthur's deep grumble and John's cheery lilt. They turned their attention back to the whiskey, fighting over it like children.

Before you shut the door, Thomas stepped closer to you, exhaling smoke through his nose. Did he want to come in? Payment for the lift home? Or, payment for the lift home? Whatever it was, your stomach felt like you swallowed a tonne of lead.

"Is everything okay, Mr Shelby?" Your voice carried between you, like a dainty flower ready to wilt.

"Tell Lizzie," He began, his cigarette hanging from his lips as he reached into his pocket, "That she's to come to work early tomorrow."

Folded paper money appeared from his pocket and suddenly the wad of cash was in your palm.

"Is- Is this for Lizzie?" You stuttered, blushing like a maiden at your suggestion. There was something heart-stopping about being the subject of Thomas Shelby's arresting gaze.

Thomas raised an eyebrow at you, taking his cigarette between his fingers and looking you up and down. Shit, was that the wrong thing to say? The Peaky Blinders never harmed women but that wasn't a comfort as you stood in front of him.

"Come on Tommy! It's fucking freezing!" Arthur yelled from the car. Thomas ignored him and threw his cigarette to the pavement.

"It's yours,” He said as if it was obvious, “Whores working behind The Garrison is bad for business."

That bastard! Lizzie told you all about her sessions with Thomas Shelby. Prostitution is only acceptable when he's doing the fucking?

"I'm not a charity nor a bookie you can bribe Mr Shelby," You pressed the money to his chest, "Save your white knight persuasion for Lizzie. Goodnight."

The sound of John and Arthur's laughter disappeared behind the wooden door, as you slammed it in Thomas' face. Muffled conversation between the brothers carried into the house, relieving you once the car drove away.

You had only been in your bedroom for a moment before gentle footsteps hurried across the landing.

"Is everything okay? I saw the Bentley parked outside," Thelma's brows were furrowed and she pulled her robe taunt against her body, peering into your bedroom.

"Yes," You nodded, slightly out of breath from your racing heart, "The Shelby brothers drove me home."

Thelma's jaw dropped, "With- Is Lizzie with you?"

Shaking your head, you draped your bag over the railing of your bed frame and unpinned your hair in front of the mirror.

"They said she was flirting with a BSA man. Caught me on my knees behind The Garrison," You flushed, failing to keep a straight face. Thelma burst into a fit of giggles.

Through the mirror, you saw her covering her mouth with her hand to stifle her amusement. You turned to face her, giggling at the ridiculousness of it.

"I'm sorry I don't mean to laugh," She sat at the bottom of your bed, as you unlaced your dress.

Living with other women was a comfortable situation but living with other whores was even more so. Who else would you go to for a second opinion if you thought you had the clap?

Your dress fell to the floor in a ripple of fabric and your heels were kicked off, "No it is funny. John is sweet. Arthur was drunk and loud.."

"..and Thomas?" Thelma goaded with a teasing grin.

"I slammed the door in his face," You winced and Thelma gasped," Do you think Lizzie will be mad at me? I couldn't help myself."

As much as Lizzie protested, it was glaringly obvious that she was in love with Thomas Shelby. When he started meeting with her on a regular basis, her heavy pockets and orgasmic bliss clouded her judgement. It would be hard for any of you to not fall in love with a client who makes you cum. Now she was his secretary but nobody was disillusioned by that title and, after a few drinks, she giddily confirmed that he bent her over his desk semi-regularly.

If you didn’t know better, you’d think that he loved her too but a man like Thomas Shelby was not bound by such silly notions.

Thelma giggled with a warm smile, "The sun shines out of his cock as far as she's concerned, but she’ll get over it.”

Giggling along, you hoped that Lizzie would be a few drinks in and find the whole ordeal hilarious...

#tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #tommy shelby x reader smut #tommy shelby #peaky blinder fanfic #cillian murphy #tommy shelby x fem!reader #cillian x fem!reader

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solarmorrigan · 5 months

Note

For the dialogue prompt, how about “What happened doesn’t change anything” for either Steddie or Newmann?

Thank you!

Hello hello hello I finally have something for you! I chose Steddie for this one, since I was on a roll. I hope this suits!

[post-S2 Steddie AU; CW: Outing, transphobia, some internalized transphobia; soft ending guaranteed, though]

When he sees Hagan meandering over towards them in the parking lot after school, his queen bee tagalong, Perkins, in tow, Eddie knows nothing good is going to follow. The way he feels Steve shift beside him says that he suspects much the same. The rest of the Hellfire guys, all gathered around Eddie’s van, talking and joking before heading home, have fallen silent.

It’s a small consolation that Hagan isn’t trailing Hargrove; since putting Steve in the hospital (briefly, Steve always interjects) last November, Hargrove has mostly given him—and the members of the Hellfire Club, once Steve had been taken into their fold—a fairly wide berth. Hagan, however, has had no compunctions about hassling Steve whenever he gets a bug up his ass about something, and he’s only become nastier since he started toadying for Hargrove.

So Eddie expects trouble, but he hadn’t expected–

Hagan starts small, crowing about how Steve has finally found his rightful place: among the freaks. Steve doesn’t give anything away, no displeasure, no anger, just bored indifference – the same mask he’s always hidden behind (the one Eddie had learned pretty quickly to see past, once he knew what to look for). But Hagan pushes.

“I guess the freaks already have a king,” Hagan snipes, cutting a glance at Eddie, “but I’m sure he needs a lady to rule by his side, right, Stevie?”

It seems like an unoriginal sort of dig—calling Steve a girl, how creative—except Steve goes pale. The mask slips, showing wide and frightened eyes for just a moment, but for Hagan, who’s known Steve for years, it’s long enough. He knows he’s hit something good.

“Do all your new little friends know, Stevie-boy? What makes you fit right in with them?” Hagan glances around the group, apparently enjoying the fact that if looks could kill, he’d be dead four times over. Then he leans in and practically spits at Steve, “Do they know that they got into your pants, you’d be less of a King Steve and more of a Queen Stacy?”

And that does it – shatters Steve’s mask so thoroughly that he actually takes a step back, staring at Hagan with a kind of disbelieving betrayal frozen on his face.

The full meaning of the words hits Eddie about three seconds before Hagan hits the side of the van, one of Eddie’s hands fisted in the front of his t-shirt and the other held firm at the base of his throat – not hurting, exactly, but heavily implying that he could.

Eddie doesn’t even have to reach for one of the many theatrical voices he uses to rile people up or cow them into submission; he’s so thoroughly taken by a type of rage he hasn’t let himself give into in a long time that his tone comes out perfectly threatening all on its own.

“If you ever repeat what you just said to another person, I will find out, and I will make your life a living hell,” he hisses.

Somewhere behind him, someone—it might be Jeff, though Eddie isn’t sure—clears their throat, and when Eddie tosses a glance over his shoulder, he finds the rest of Hellfire standing firm at his back (even tiny underclassman Gareth, with his arms crossed and the meanest look on his face the poor kid can muster).

“Ah, my apologies,” Eddie says as he faces front again, flashing a manic little grin, “we will find out. And we’ll ruin your life, Hagan. Same goes for your girlfriend.”

Perkins, who had been standing off to the side as the snickering peanut gallery right up until Eddie had pinned Hagan to the side of the van, makes a choked noise of offense that goes entirely ignored.

“Tell me you understand, Tommy-boy.” Eddie punctuates the command with a flex of his fingers near Hagan’s throat, until Hagan reluctantly nods, and Eddie releases him. “Glad we’re in agreement.”

Hagan and Perkins hightail it the other side of the parking lot, leaving them be with nothing more than a nasty look from Perkins, but no one is much in the mood to chat after that. No one really knows what to say – except Steve, who offers a quiet thanks to the rest of the guys and, having caught a ride in with Eddie that morning, then asks to be taken home.

Even with the radio playing quietly as Eddie drives, the atmosphere in the van feels silent and stifling.

Asking Steve if he’s alright feels like kind of a ridiculous move. Eddie wouldn’t be alright if he was in Steve’s position – hell, Eddie’s not alright. He’s pissed. But from the way Steve is sitting rigidly in the passenger seat, staring out the window like Eddie is driving him to his execution, Eddie’s anger—even on his behalf—isn’t what he needs right now.

Slowly, Eddie forces himself to let it go (for now, at least for now) and follow the familiar roads home.

It feels perfectly natural to simply head back to his place, where they’d been planning to go before that shitshow of a confrontation, though the surprise on Steve’s face when they pull up to the trailer says that he’d thought otherwise.

“You could’ve just taken me back to my house. I wouldn’t– I’d get it,” he says, and Eddie frowns at him.

“Did you want to go back to your house? We can hang out there if you want, I just figured…” Eddie tilts his head regarding him carefully. “You seem more comfortable here.”

Steve stares at him for a long moment, blank and uncertain, before he breaks back into motion with a shrug. “Okay,” he says, moving to get out of the van.

They head inside and nod a quick hello to Wayne, who looks like he’s just woken up in preparation for his shift, and then they go straight back to Eddie’s room. Eddie’s bag goes on the desk, but Steve’s goes by the door. Eddie sits down on the bed (admittedly one of the few places to sit, but also an invitation for Steve to come sit next to him) but Steve – Steve hesitates before leaning up against the wall, by the door with his bag, arms crossed and gaze cast towards the floor.

He looks ready to run at any moment, and Eddie sighs. This thing between them is new – so new that they’ve been afraid to put a label to it, dancing around each other uncertainly for months before sharing their first kiss barely a month ago. They’ve spent almost every available moment since with their hands on each other in some way or another, though Steve has been a bit skittish about moving past making out (Eddie had thought that maybe it was the unfamiliarity of being with another guy, but he thinks he might have a better understanding of the picture now).

Eddie doesn’t want to break things by pushing too hard, but somehow, he thinks leaving it unaddressed would be worse.

“Look, we don’t have to talk about it,” he says, watching Steve, though Steve still isn’t looking back, “but if you want to…”

Steve shrugs. “I wasn’t hiding it from you,” he says, finally glancing up at Eddie. “I mean, I was, but not– I was going to tell you.”

“You don’t owe me any kind of explanation,” Eddie says.

“You would’ve found out eventually, either way.” Steve lets out a sound that suggests he may have been trying to laugh. “But it was – I should’ve been the one to tell you. That was – that was mine to tell.”

A little bit of Eddie breaks as Steve’s voice does. He’s almost vibrating with the desire to hold and to reassure, to go over to where Steve is standing, still propped against the wall, practically curling in on himself (trying to make himself smaller), but he’s not sure how well it would be received. He tries words, instead.

“Steve, I’m so sorry–”

“That was the one thing,” Steve snaps, anger tearing across his tone, “the one thing Tommy would never touch, the one thing that was off limits, even he knew– and he just–” As quickly as it had come, the anger goes, taking Steve’s energy with it. He presses the heels of his palms into his eyes and lets his hands slide down to cover his face; when he speaks again, he sounds small. “I wasn’t ready.”

Eddie couldn’t keep himself from crossing the room if he’d tried – though isn’t trying, after that. He’s up off the bed and into Steve’s space before he’s even realized, and it’s probably only his proximity that allows him to hear what Steve says next.

“I’m not ready for things to change between us.”

“Steve,” Eddie says, low and careful, “what happened doesn’t change anything.”

Steve pulls his hands away from his face with a derisive little huff of a laugh. His cheeks are red and his eyes are bright; he’s not crying, but it looks like a near thing.

“It’s – like, I get it. You’re fully into guys, and I’m…” He waves his hands down at himself, sharp and frustrated. “Most people wouldn’t call me a real guy, if they knew.”

“Since when am I most people?” Eddie asks. “You say you’re a guy, you’re a real guy, fucking end of. Anyone who thinks otherwise can fuck off.”

Steve scoffs, rolling his eyes, clearly trying to hold back a much more emotional reaction, and Eddie chances resting his hands on Steve’s shoulders. Steve doesn’t move away, even eases a little into the touch when Eddie starts circling his thumbs at the skin right where his shirt collar ends.

“You don’t have to believe me right now,” Eddie says softly. “But I like you, Steve. I like you, andI’m gonna stick around and prove it to you.”

Something about the declaration makes Steve’s eyes snap right to Eddie’s, searching, anxious and cautiously hopeful, and Eddie lets him look. Whatever he’s after, maybe he finds it, because he uncurls from himself a little after that, just enough to lean in for a hesitant kiss that becomes much more certain when Eddie himself doesn’t hold back.

Eddie pulls Steve back over to the bed after that, poking and prodding him around until they’re both settled, Eddie’s back to the pillows and Steve’s back to Eddie’s chest (Steve’s never said as much, but Eddie’s gathered that this is one of his favorite positions to cuddle in; he doubts if Steve’s spent much time being the little spoon).

“Tell me something else,” Eddie says, once he’s got his arms wrapped securely around Steve’s waist.

“What?” Steve asks.

“Tell me something that you want me to know.” Eddie leans forward to press a kiss to Steve’s temple. “Anything.”

For a moment, Steve is quiet, thinking as he traces absent patterns over Eddie’s forearms. “I could tell you why I picked Steve,” he says finally.

“If you want to, I’d love to hear it,” Eddie says.

“It wasn’t because it was sort of close to my… old name. That was actually kind of a coincidence.” Steve lets his head fall back against Eddie’s shoulder, the tension that’s been wound through him for the last hour finally starting to ease. “Steven was my grandad’s name.”

“Yeah?” Eddie prompts softly.

“Yeah. My mom’s dad. I used to spend a lot of time over at his house when I was a kid. Before he died. I kind of got the feeling he liked me more than my parents did.” Eddie gives Steve a squeeze around the middle. “But he used to tell me all these stories about fighting in World War II. Probably not very age-appropriate, now that I think about it, but at the time I really ate it up.

“He didn’t really, like… glorify it, I don’t think? He just kind of told me what happened, good or bad, and whatever the story was, I always thought he sounded, y’know – strong and brave. And when I wanted to pick a new name…” Steve shrugs against Eddie. “I kind of hoped he wouldn’t mind sharing his with me.”

“Bet he’d be honored,” Eddie says, giving Steve another little squeeze.

“Some days I’m not so sure,” Steve says quietly.

“Well I am. I’ll just have to stick around and prove that to you, too,” Eddie says decisively.

Briefly, Steve’s hands tighten where they rest on Eddie’s arms. “I like the sound of that,” he says, and Eddie turns so he can press another kiss to the side of Steve’s head.

“Good,” he says. “Me too.”

#221expressions #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #transmasc steve harrington #stranger things #does this make a whole lot of sense? probably not!#is it some really soft hurt/comfort though? yes.#tw outing #tw transphobia #solar wrote #answers from solar #this is the last fic for this round of prompts but I'll have a few more soon I hope?

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veeagainsttheday · 4 months

Text

Two lines from OFMD s2 have been rotating around in my head for the last few weeks.

The first is from s2e3, when Ed is speaking with Hornigold about his sandals, and Hornigold tells him that he always has to have an angle. Ed responds by saying, ‘Nah, mate, I’m actually just a very simple man’ before sharing his thoughts about opening an inn.

The second is in s2e7, after Ed left Stede, when Stede and Izzy are in Jackie’z. Izzy says to Stede, ‘You know what he did when I told him I loved him? He shot me,’ as Stede says, ‘He shot you. I know.’ Izzy continues, ‘He’s a complicated man.’ Stede doesn’t respond; they look at each other for a moment and then the scene ends.

First of all - that line of Izzy’s about Ed shooting him when Izzy told Ed he loved him makes me want to start ripping my hair out in frustration. Ed shot Izzy when Izzy announced in front of the crew that vibes were bad because of Ed’s feelings for Stede Bonnet. Ed responded to Izzy saying he loved Ed by making a noise of disgust and walking out of the conversation. So it’s fascinating that Izzy has reframed the event in this way (and not the first time we hear him reframe it - as he tells Lucius a shark took his leg). Stede obviously heard that Ed shot Izzy (he says, ‘shooting people’s legs off’ in the list of reasons why Ed’s in the sackcloth at the start of s2e5), but we have no idea where he heard it from or who told him why. The way he says, ‘I know,’ to Izzy in s2e7 gives me the impression that he’s heard Izzy say it a number of times - he sounds weary. I’m guessing Ed’s never told Stede what really happened, nor any of the crew who witnessed it. But if I could ask the writers about one line from s2, I really think this would be it - I just don’t know how to interpret it (and if anyone has any ideas, I’d love to hear them below!).

Anyway. Back to those two lines. Ed says he’s ‘actually just a very simple man’ in response to being misunderstood by Hornigold (actually his own self-consciousness). For two seasons, Ed’s been attempting to communicate that he’s got a simple, reasonable desire to retire from a dangerous, violent career and be with the man he loves. Izzy’s response has been to deny Ed that, to call Ed insane, try to keep him in piracy by whatever means he can, and of course try to get Stede killed. By the time Ed’s in the gravy basket, he’s arguing even in his own head that he’s a simple man, with a simple desire for the future.

Then we come to s2e7, and Izzy still doesn’t get it. He still thinks Ed is a complicated man, he still thinks Ed is acting in a way that doesn’t make sense or requires some convoluted explanation. It’s notable to me that Stede doesn’t agree - we know from s2e3 (and, ya know, the rest of the show) that Stede understands Ed deeply. Then I think about Ed talking to the ‘wolf’ in s2e4 - ‘It’s a very rare thing to find someone who understands you,’ he says, tears in his eyes, obviously missing Stede but also - fuck, man, that scene with the rabbit is so funny but makes me so sad for Ed, because he really does have a pretty simple desire and he’s spent months - implied years - being told that he’s crazy for having it.

#ofmd meta #ofmd s2 meta #ofmd s2 #edward teach #edward teach meta

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