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#the longer i look at it the more i remain convinced they don't actually have a graphics team
mcbitchtits · 1 year
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*removes outlines*
*blurs strokes*
*warms up the gradient*
*removes black drop shadow*
*changes subtitle text from yellow to gradient*
AND THE *keep stark white*
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six-eyed-samurai · 9 days
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Yo I think something glitched when I was making the header...didn't crop properly. Anyway, enjoy this trash and I'm sorry if it's not up to my usual standard but I just got the random idea in the middle of the night!
Note: Reader is pregnant, so therefore fem and if it makes you uncomfortable I apologise but don't read
Everyone was convinced Tomioka Giyuu hated you right from the start.
You were first introduced to the Hashira when Oyakata-sama called them all for a meeting on the latest reports of demon activity, but requested them all to stay a little longer before being dismissed. Amane gestured for you to come forward with a gentle smile and you shuffled out of the shadows with your hands clasped together in nervousness but with a bright bream upon your face. The Hashira’s eyes caught yours in surprise, wondering if you were perhaps a new Kakushi since you weren’t wearing a slayer uniform, but instead a traditional (f/c) yukata.
Then their eyes strayed downwards and changed their minds about that, but nonetheless still remained in confusion.
“This is our newest member, (y/n) (y/l/n), the (b/f) Hashira. She was supposed to join our ranks quite some months ago but due to her sudden pregnancy she will for now be an honorary member.”
The only sign of your anxiety was the blush on your cheeks and the hand rubbing at your swollen abdomen. “Hi everyone! I’m so happy to meet you all! I won’t be on the battlefield for some time and I’m sorry I can’t fight alongside you for now, but I look forward to getting to know you all. If you need anything, I’m always at the (e/n) Estate.”
The ice was broken and you were immediately approached by many of the Hashira. Himejima-san cried and wished you and your child good health, making you feel a little embarrassed but thanked him anyway. The Mist Pillar Tokito simply stared at you, then at the sky, then at you again before asking what were you doing here again (later on, he startled you by appearing behind and questioning you in that airheaded manner of his if he could talk to the baby).
You were also tackled by the Love Pillar who introduced herself as Kanroji Mitsuri and your new best friend as well as the calmer Insect Pillar, Kocho Shinobu, who despite slightly unnerving you with her smile touched you greatly when she said you could always stop by the Butterfly Mansion for checkups or simply a visit.
“How far along are you?”
“About five months, I think!”
“KYAAAAAAAAAAH! Your baby is going to be so cute! What’s it’s name? Do you know if it’s a he or a she yet? I can’t wait to be an aunt!”
“Heh, I’m not too sure yet, but I have a feeling it’s going to be a boy!”
Mitsuri squealed again, causing you to laugh at her genuine happiness. She whipped her head behind her and called out to the silently glowering Snake Pillar. “Iguro-san, don’t you think the baby will be cute? I really wish I’ll have some of my own one day!”
You and Shinobu shared a smirk as the Wind Pillar grumpily slapped his friend’s back and dragged the furiously red Iguro away, muttering viciously about not wasting any more time in hunting a Twelve Kizuki.
“Oh look, there's Tomioka-san. Why hasn't he come and said hello yet?”
“Ah well, a lone friendless wolf as always.” Shinobu didn't see you originally visibly brighten at Mitsuri’s words and turn surprised at hers.
Indeed Tomioka was standing awkwardly as always a little - long, actually - way off. What was not as always was that horrified, slack jawed look on his face instead of his usual blank, emotionless one.
“Tomioka-san? Are you alright? You've been making that face for a long time already…” Shinobu's eye twitched, but you didn't notice, suddenly preoccupied with Muichiro’s intense questioning of whether he could play with the baby when it was born.
“She shouldn't be a Hashira.”
The remaining Hashira found themselves narrowing their eyes at the Water Pillar's blunt, if not rude, words.
That would be just one of the many events that further convinced them of his intense dislike of you.
***
You started going over a lot to the Butterfly Mansion over then next few months, becoming a fast favorite among the girls for your cheerful attitude and your baby; even Kanao cracked a smile at you when you came around. When the other Hashira arrived to be healed you always made it a point to go pay them a visit and in turn you pretty soon had every one of them in your back pocket, including the harsh, loudmouthed Wind Pillar Shinazugawa who constantly gave you a jolt with the complete 360 with his attitude around you, to the point you could call him a good friend.
Being friends with him usually meant hearing him grumble about the stupid waterboy.
“Why doesn’t he ever look at you anyway, turning away like that. So rude, that little (beep) (beep) (beep)-”
“Eheh, Shinazugawa-san, don’t swear so loudly, he’ll hear you!”
You had stopped by to Sanemi’s room when Shinobu had mentioned he was there to be patched up after a mission and knowing how busy she was, had offered to go help change his bandages with the basic medical knowledge you had picked up over the years of being a slayer. Reluctantly she had agreed and so here you were, chatting away with him until he spotted Tomioka passing by (he poked his head in actually, otherwise Sanemi would never have noticed him) and started complaining about him once more, especially when you had called out to him and Tomioka had simply whipped his head to the side to stare into the distance.
Really, Sanemi wasn’t the only one to notice how Tomioka avoided you like the plague with that stupid, vacant, red expression of his.
“He’s just shy, he doesn’t mean to be rude!” You defended the poor Pillar, continuing with rewinding the new wrappings.
“Tch, you should see how he acts at the meetings, like he’s better than us or something,” was the growling reply. “(beep) doesn’t know how to (beep) talk with anyone with his (beep) attitude.”
“I don’t think he thinks he’s better than all of you, maybe it’s just something else,” You hum, finishing up. “That’s all! I’m glad the demon didn’t go any further than a scratch.”
Shinazugawa grunted, then his gaze caught yours and softened. “By the way, who’s the dad?”
“Oh, it’s -”
“(y/n)-san!” Three heads peeked in from the door shyly. “Can you come and play with us?”
“Of course! Bye, Shinazugawa!”
Like always the reply was only a “tch”.
***
Another thing was that he never stopped repeating what he said at the first time everyone met you: “She shouldn’t be a Hashira”, going as far as to attempt to prevent you from wielding a sword, although this was only noticed by Tanjiro.
You had agreed to the Kamaboko Squad’s requests (aka demands by Inosuke and begging from Zenitsu) to train together, despite Tanjiro’s worries which you brushed off. The boys were very rambunctious and did tire you out quite a bit, but you were having so much fun and they were so eager you just went on sparring with them until even Inosuke muttered a plead for a quick break, unable to beat your incredible swordsmanship.
“(y/n)-chan!!! Who’s the lucky guy you married?! You never told us and I want to know how he managed to score someone so beautiful like you so I can do it with Nezuko-chan!” Zenitsu simpered, scooting closer, ignoring Tanjiro’s scandalized look.
“What’s married?” Inosuke’s voice was muffled underneath his boar mask and the mountain of onigiri you had brought he was stuffing into his mouth, so none of you heard him.
You giggle, placing a hand on your stomach. “He’s very sweet, although he’s honestly very shy and doesn’t talk much. I’m sure you’ve met him before! Can you guess?”
“Woah, really?” Tanjiro brightened, wondering who it could be, but his next question was interrupted by an interrogative monotone.
“What are you doing? You shouldn’t be training.” Tomioka stood in front of them, the first time anyone had seen him interact with you without just staring at the ground. His face was as empty as the void but there was a tiny crease between his eyebrows and Tanjiro didn’t have to inhale to smell the worry reeking off him.
“I didn’t know you were so concerned about (y/n)-chan, Tomioka-san.” Zenitsu’s eyebrows shot up, disappearing under his hair while he glowered judgmentally.
Tomioka made no reply, only swiftly grabbing and removing the sword from your hand. “She shouldn’t be a Hashira, much less train. You nearly died fighting a demon not too long ago, you’re in no shape to be doing this.”
With that he abruptly walked off and left Zenitsu and Inosuke to scream at him for being such an un-gentleman and for not fighting with them while you looked away sadly.
Tanjiro wondered why he didn’t once smell dislike on Tomioka. Only fear.
***
“What’s he got against (l/n)?” Obanai joined in on the conversation from his perch on the tree. He’d look for reasons to hate against the Water Pillar all the time, but unlike the others this time round his hatred was justified.
Tengen rolled his eyes flamboyantly. “I know! He’s constantly acting like she’s a pest to be around, but she doesn’t seem to have beef with him. What’s wrong with that bland creature?”
“Oh come on! We don’t actually know if he hates her,” Rengoku protested mildly.
“Then why does he keep refusing to even make eye contact with her?”
“I mean, Iguro, you can’t talk, you only ever look at Kanroji” - Obanai turned away, blushing furiously as Tengen cackled - “but I get your point. The other day I walked in on them arguing. I can’t believe he would keep reminding her of past failures without keeping her current state in mind!”
“Perhaps he only wants to try and convince her to stay safe during this time and discourage her from slaying for now?”
“Rengoku, my best buddy, you’re too optimistic.”
“There’s no other reason he’d give her the cold shoulder 24/7.”
Soon the conversation drifted to other topics, but little would they know Rengoku was the closest to the truth…
***
Shinobu already had enough on her hands with all the screaming, panic and blood, but of course Tomioka just had to show up at the most inopportune moment.
It had been a relatively quiet day as the two of you sat on the engawa, exchanging war stories over tea when with a sudden cry you had doubled over in pain. Your water had broken and you were heading into labour - quickly.
Just barely the Insect Pillar had managed to get you to a bed and sent the Butterfly Girls scurrying for the necessities, hiding her uneasiness at the slight earliness of your boy’s arrival to keep you calm and help you through it. You were doing well under her coaxing to use Total Concentration Breathing, and thankfully Shinazugawa was still around to help you relax with a familiar face.
Then Aoi had burst in with a frantic expression and thundering footsteps from behind that certainly weren’t hers.
“Shinobu-san, Tomioka is demanding to be let in-”
“Keep him out!” Shinobu grimaced, returning her attention to you. She’s heard and seen what he’s like around you, and other than the fact he has no business to be here she didn’t want to send you into a further state of panic. “He doesn’t like her, and if he opens that mouth of his to say anything more I might be responsible for two deaths.”
You dug your nails into Sanemi’s proffered hand, screaming in pain. He winced but said nothing, only looking up with a determined look in his eyes at Shinobu. “I’ll go keep Tomioka out, just make sure she delivers safely.”
Without waiting for a reply Sanemi rushed out to bar the doorway, leaving Shinobu to assure and handle your birthing with the anxious assistance of the Butterfly Girls. The pain in your stomach was surely abominable, intolerable, and Shinobu found herself growing more alarmed with every minute the baby wasn’t coming out.
“(y/n), I need you to push harder, alright? Can you do that for me?”
“N-no - where is he?”
“Your husband? I’ll get someone to call him, don’t worry,” Shinobu lied with dawning horror that in the entire time she had known you…she had no actual idea who you were married to. “But he wouldn’t like you see you like this, right? You can do it. Just keep your breathing under control.”
“JUST (beep) OFF, TOMIOKA!” Shinazugawa’s voice bellowed through the Mansion. His stocky form soon appeared, stubbornly acting as an indomitable barrier against the equally stubborn Tomioka who was desperately trying to barge his way through.
“Tomioka, we don’t need unnecessary people here to worry (y/n) more-”
”THAT’S MY WIFE!”
Whether it was because Tomioka had never raised his voice before or the sheer shock of it all or the fact you reached out for his hand, Shinobu and Sanemi let him through.
“I thought I was going to lose you when I heard you screaming like that from outside.” Giyuu nuzzled deeper into your neck, absently stroking your baby’s tiny hand. “Don’t scare me like that again.”
You played with the strands of his hair with a teasing smirk. “You did to, banging into the room like that, with the “That’s my wife!”. It was very romantic of you, Giyuu~”
“I was in a rush.” Giyuu smacked his face into the pillow, embarrassed while you laugh.
“Ara ara~ Are you both done cuddling? I want to perform a quick checkup on your baby now, if you don’t mind, and all the Hashira are here to ask you a lot of things, Tomioka.” Shinobu stood at the doorway with her customary smile, a twitching eye and crossed arms. Behind her were the shadows of the others trying to peek over her shoulder or head into the room to congratulate you on your baby or beat up Tomioka (both for some).
“Ask about what?” Giyuu lifted up his head in confusion. You snort at his obliviousness, cooing at your precious sleeping baby before gently passing him to Shinobu.
“MAYBE ABOUT HOW (Y/N) IS YOUR WIFE AND YOU NEVER TOLD US?”
“KYAAAAAAAAAH! That’s so cute of you, Tomioka!”
“Do you hate us all or something?!”
“No…? No one asked and I thought (y/n) would have told you,” Giyuu said blankly, glancing at you with wide blue eyes. You sheepishly raised your shoulders.
“I tried to tell them but we kept getting interrupted or had no chance.”
“You did make us all think you hated (y/n) with your behaviour, Tomioka.” Shinobu raised an eyebrow. “After all, you rarely spoke to her and when you did it was only to reprimand her, but I can see now it was probably out of worry for your child and her…although rather harshly.”
“Oh!” You burst out laughing, shaking so hard you nearly couldn’t take back your awakening baby Shinobu was handing over. “Giyuu’s just very shy! See-”
You pressed a quick peck to his cheek.
giyuu.exe has stopped working.
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lillithhearts · 3 months
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I saw that you didn't have any ideas for the 3rd prompt so maybeeee the moment Alastor makes a deal with the reader and he's all like "jeje all this power for the small price of my soul" and then the readers like "nu-uh that's not a small price actually, I'm gonna treat you horribly" and then it dawns on him that he literally sold his soul. :P
Or after the fight with Adam the reader like goes to rub it in Alastors face by helping him patch up and stuff after hearing him sing about him trying to find a way to get out of their deal.
Also manic Alastor giggles 💕✨💖
Whichever you want if you want, don't want you to feel pressured or stressed!
Also I am loving the Rosie and Alastor fics you've been writing they are amazing! 💖 You are definitely my fav hazbin writer ✨✨
As always, drink water and eat a snack!
✨ anon
Alastor x Overlord!Reader˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
ׂׂૢ pairing : Alastor x Reader
ׂׂૢ cw: Not proofread, abuse of power, Reader being mean (in a loving (not really) way)
ׂׂૢ reader is gender neutral
𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. . .
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While quietly walking among the broken remains of the hotel your eyes scanned every piece of debris watching the dust settle from the violent, bloody fight you witnessed; stepping in Yellow glowing blood you paid no mind before your eyes slowly trailed to the trail of red blood; back to a very familiar spot that you knew all too well, with a shrug of your shoulders and a deep breath you, you made your way to the tower; the blood of your dearest soul sticking to the sole of your shoe.
Arriving at the shattered and battered radio tower, you easily hoisted yourself up into it; not making the slightest effort at keeping your presence unknown to Alastor who was hunched over his control panel; rigid, shallow fast breaths while his chest heaved; you smugly watched his ears flatten further upon his realization of who had found him, his gaze shifting to meet yours after a few seconds his body too, turning to you; revealing that nasty gash on his chest his eyes seemed heavy, his smile strained; wince and pained expressions contorting as you tutted at the Overlord while walking up to him; gently undoing the layers to get to the gash, his hand raised; hesitating to stop you his hand quickly retreating back to the control panel with one sharp glare from you.
"you should be more careful. Look at you, I thought I didn't need to see you this truly pathetic again"
Your words cut through him as his eyes averted every inch of you; shame, embarrassment and humiliation washing over his weakened body before he leaned more into the control panel, his sharp nails digging further into the metal surface at the next venom laced words coming out your mouth
"oh. So because you're hurt means you no longer answer me, Alastor?"
"no,no you're right I'm sorry, I should've been more careful"
The sweat dripping from his forehead while one of his eyes lingered on you watching you meticulously work on his fresh wound, your face didn't match your hands gentleness however; your eyes filled with annoyance and hints of just pure anger; you had better things to do then take care of his pathetic self; he had felt your tug when he was hit, essentially further convincing him to get the fuck out of there; the second he was away he knew he'd never hear the end of it from you; and now his flattened ears are listening those very said words.
"I thought you were a powerful overlord, you honestly thought this would've been a good idea? It seemed I underestimated you"
Every new word, every new insult and comment made him wince again and again while glancing at you looking for perhaps a sign you'd soon let up with your entourage of sickly words, not helped by the sly smug smirk very abhorrent smirk on your face, Alastors eyes met yours; seeing a glint in your orbs, God how he hated being infront of you it always felt so overwhelmingly humiliation under your precise watch.
"you can be glad I saved you last minute, honestly why do I need to save you every time, The leader of the exorcists; did you think he'd be an easy fight? Or did you go into that fight wanting to embarrass me?"
The silence in the broken radio tower was thick and deafening, Alastor shallowed the lump in his throat and opened his mouth, trying to look at you, looking for even the slightest bit of worry in your eyes, trying to find even a sliver of you that actually cares about him, quickly snapping back when he felt a rough hand grab his jaw and pulling to kneel over while his body tensed at the pain shooting through his body
"answer me, before you lose that tongue of yours."
His breathing quickened and his clawed hand gently came to hold your wrist, seeing him fighting to regain his composure.
"i— I don't know what I was thinking, that was stupid of me..I apologize"
"hm. So you can listen. Pull yourself together"
You let go of his jaw, clearing your throat and stepping away from him; turning your back to the Overlord and leaving through the hatch you come through; leaving Alastor stood there with a gentler hand replacing the one you had, the other one hovering over the cleaned and patched up wound.
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Author's note : man...I GOT A LIL LAZY AT THR END....I KINDA HATE THISSS
Taglist : @k1y0yo @ihavetoomanyfictionalcrushes @d0nutsaur @anni1600
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drtyfiction · 4 months
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IMAGINE [2/2]
Oliver Quick x Y/N (she/her) Saltburn spoiler alert!!
[Part 01]
- You know, Oliver, I thought you were cleverer than that. Y/N invited me because she wanted to. They want me back, after all. She wants me back in Saltburn.
- And why would she want that?
Oliver's gaze shifts from frustration to a hint of anger. Restrained, inexpressive, repressed, but still anger. His rage can't really be perceived by his facial expressions, but it subtly leaks from deep within his eyes all the way to where Farleigh's sight can reach. Oliver stares at him with a slightly frightening fervor.
Despite still not knowing it, Farleigh should, indeed, be afraid.
- I don't know, I think she misses me. No, actually, I'm sure she misses me terribly. I will eventually call her mine, you see, Oliver. She puts on a certain act and tells me she's not really interested, but later, when I leave, she calls me back, as if nothing had ever happened. I'm sure she desires me as much as I've been craving her. They want me. Oh no, even better. They need me, Oliver. She has always needed me. - Farleigh gradually approached Oliver, facing him closely, until each could smell the alcohol coming off the other's breath. Farleigh also sensed that Oliver was wearing an expensive brand of perfume, probably one that belonged to Felix. - I'm part of this house, I always have been, just like her. You're here on vacation, just for a short visit. I'm permanent in Y/N's life and I'm a resident of Saltburn. This is just a short fling you're enjoying, but it will soon end. You'll dwell on it for the rest of your life, and you'll hold on to this moment for years to come. You'll tell your children about what you lived here. But you'll never, ever have any of it back, including her. I am the one who will always go back into her arms.
On that very moment, Oliver feels a bitter taste settle on his lips, surging like an exhilarating reflux from his stomach. He wishes he could have a drink to mask the stinging taste that instantly assaults his senses. However, he can't, as his cup remains empty. He looks again at the plastic bottom, then at Farleigh, and he can no longer hide the disgust that emerges on his face. He is no longer feeling anger towards him and all his self-centeredness, but rather disgust. A disgust that crawls up his gut and which he can no longer suppress. His face twitches and his upper lip rises, and Farleigh appears surprised to see, albeit briefly, a trace of real feeling spilling out of Oliver.
How dare Farleigh assume that you want him? Or even worse, how dare he think that you need him? Oliver knows that nothing Farleigh has just said is true, but he can't stop himself from being disgusted by all that he's heard. You've always been, in every way, above all the drama. Oliver is absolutely convinced that you wouldn't have invited Farleigh to the party and he was even more certain that you had never slept with him. He has spent so much time studying your personality and behavior that he knows with great confidence that you are an emotionally independent and collected person who would not submit to Farleigh's whims, no matter how persuasive he tries to be.
Now they're so close to each other that their faces are nearly touching. Oliver tries to turn around to peer at the house, but Farleigh grabs his face with both hands, forcing him to look deep into his brown eyes.
- Catch a train to someplace far away from here. This is not my dream, Oliver. It's my home. So no matter what happens, I always come back.
Farleigh releases him, and Oliver realizes that this was the last straw. He needs to take definitive action. As Farleigh walks away, Oliver mutters between his teeth:
- We’ll see.
There is nothing, or no one, that stands in the way between Oliver and his subject of desire. Everybody should know that. What he hid from everyone is that Oliver's greatest desire is you. He was advancing gradually, building up space and gaining on the territory so that, in the end, he would have you. However, because of what Farleigh has just said, Oliver realizes that he will need to revise his entire plan and take more intense, aggressive action. If he doesn't intervene, things will soon get out of hand, and he cannot possibly imagine losing you to anyone, especially when that someone is Farleigh.
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thatasadbitch · 1 year
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𖧷 𝒪𝓁ℴ'ℰ𝓎𝓀𝓉𝒶𝓃 𖧷
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𝒩ℯ𝓉ℯ𝓎𝒶𝓂 𝓍 𝒻ℯ𝓂!𝒩𝒶'𝓋𝒾!𝓇ℯ𝒶𝒹ℯ𝓇
𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: this is +18, it contains unprotected sex, breeding kink and fingering. if you don't like it generally just don't read it. the characters are both in their 20s.
𝓌ℴ𝓇𝒹𝒸ℴ𝓊𝓃𝓉: 1.5k
𝓇ℯ𝓆𝓊ℯ𝓈𝓉: hiiii , So this is my first time requesting anything so , Idk really what to say 😭 but um can you please write a smut with either neteyam or tsu’tey with breeding kinks 😭 Like they are olo’eyktan trying to make a like an heir , pretty please 🫶🏻
𖧷𖧷𖧷
Neteyam and I had already been partners for some time, when he was proclaimed olo'eyktan and thus head of the omatikaya clan.
After all he was the eldest son of the previous clan chief Jake Sully, the toruk Makto had had to leave the clan some time ago due to various problems with the Sky People and Neteyam being that he does not have five fingers like his three brothers, he would in no way case conspicuous and thus remained to protect his clan as an excellent Olo'eyktan.
But this has now happened months ago, things had relaxed over time and even if not completely, every so often there were expeditions to annihilate some half-human who had gone too far into the forest, but other than that, everything had reconciled back to a sort of normality.
On the other hand, Neteyam is perfect for the role that has been assigned to him and everyone is convinced of it, the only thing that makes someone whisper is still the lack of a son, an heir to whom the position of clan chief would pass.
In reality this doesn't bother us that much the fact of not having had children yet is a decision shared by both perhaps still too young to really think about it, and among other things, as warriors which we both are and things happened not like this a long time ago it was definitely not the best time for me to get pregnant.
But now things had calmed down and inside Neteyam's head, this thought couldn't stop haunting him relentlessly, only the image of his partner carrying his child made him wince with excitement, a kind of excitement that it clouded his mind and made him hard as a rock and that he probably wouldn't be able to suppress those instincts much longer.
I was hunting, my ears were focused on the sounds of the forest and especially on the movements of my prey.
Until another type of noise makes my ears spin, and makes my prey run away, i hiss in frustration and turn around to find my partner watching me from not too far away "how loud are you, you missed dinner?" I say looking at his proud smile "I've been here for a while actually, I had to ask you something, but looking at you was definitely better" I blush and slapped his arm lightly "What did you have to ask me?" I ask looking at his eyes become suddenly more serious and I hear him sigh "I wanted you to give me an opinion on my plan of attack, what I thought I'd do in a week or so" I nod and together we head towards the tree house, more precisely to our hut where Neteyam keeps his ' notes ' for battles etc... I take the map in my hand and start reading the sketched notes on the paper.
The thing I don't know is that while I'm blabbering about some changes Neteyam looks at my figure not hearing what I'm saying at all, the only thing he thinks about again is wanting to cum inside me so many times as to fill my limbs and especially to fill my belly with his puppies.
His eyes are misty with a dark mist as he watches my hips move along with my ass occasionally as I speak, waist narrow and back perfectly arched on the table "you know maybe you should put some more warriors on the Ikran-" is the only sentence that he feels the slightest and that I don't even finish because I feel his big warm and tight hands on my hips with his pelvis against my perfect ass to make his hard cock feel against me.
I initially jump in surprise but it doesn't take long for a smug smile to form on my face.
I feel him move my hair to the side and lower on my body, attaching his chest to my back and his lips to the most sensitive points of my neck licking, biting and sucking them, in response I inadvertently start to move my hips against him, which he hisses biting the soft skin of my neck with more ardor and making me gasp in his arms.
His hand runs up my thighs and then reaches my butt squeezing it gently, but his hand continues to flow, pretending it doesn't reach my intimacy, already dripping for him.
He caresses it a little teasing me by touching the clitoris without ever really applying pressure "Neteyam..." my voice is needy "what's up baby... what do you want?" he asks whispering hoarsely into my ear only making me more aroused and more obviously rubbing against him.
"I want you" I see him take his braid and connect it with mine making my pulse increase for the idyllic sensation "where do you want me baby?...talk and I can give you what you want" his fingers definitively remove my thong before making room between my wet walls, making me moan copiously between his hands, his fingers touch the spongy and most sensitive points inside me and rub my clitoris, and making me water slightly with pleasure "Neteyam…inside me…I want you inside me” at my gasping and disconnected words I feel his heart racing and a rush of excitement disperse throughout my body.
He turns me around making me sit on the table finding the imminent need to kiss me roughly and passionately, bringing my pelvis closer to him as he takes off his thong.
Finally showing me his rock hard cock at my entrance, so horny that I already have some pre-cum coming out of the tip of him wetting him.
He looks into my eyes as if asking for the permission he already has, and as he thrusts himself all the way into me two moans come out of both of our lips, he holds my hips as my legs are locked around his waist.
He rests his forehead against mine, thrusting hard into me relentlessly.
Letting a few noises of pleasure escape my lips and his growls and husky sighs kissing my ears.
One thought kept nagging Neteyam making him frown, he wants to come inside me fill me with his cum and his sons, his eyes were again foggy like his mind but those thoughts make his cock jerk inside me making me moan stronger and stronger, another thing that turns him on more and more, making him empty his mind to the point of not worrying about anything but getting me pregnant tonight, for the world to come he wants to see me full of him and his children tonight.
A loud moan escapes his lips and his hands move up my legs to move them over his shoulders and reach all the way down, letting his cock kiss my cervix and my G-spot so many times it makes me cry again for the frustrating pressure building in my lower belly more and more from my imminent orgasm that will soon overwhelm me “you have to come with me baby ok? " my walls are already starting to squeeze against him " are you doing it? For me” I nod slightly and he gives me soft “Atta Girl” praise.
When his thrusts get stronger and more frantic, I understand that he too wants to come, but this time he doesn't pull himself out of me, he pushes inside me harder and harder.
And without warning we both come, he cums inside me profusely it seems to never end, my walls squeezing him inside me making him moan loudly and making me enjoy such a beautiful sound.
Soon his forehead is back on mine and our gasping breaths mix, letting his lips kiss me softly, feeling his hand reach my lower belly swollen with his cum.
A small smile forms on his lips, a mischievous and sly smile "What are you laughing at" I ask letting my legs fall from his shoulders and stopping them at his waist "I'm just happy" he says kissing me other times letting out a few purrs that they make my chest tremble, I caress his cheeks looking into his eyes letting one cheek rest on my hand to let himself be caressed “nga yawne lu oer” (I love you) I say letting a small smile escape his tired face “nga yawne lu oer, more than everything else in the world” he continues positioning himself next to me starting to prepare the post-sex cures and making sure that I don't lose any drop of his semen.
He places me on our bed, and lies down next to me laying me down on his chest letting his purr, his quiet breathing and his heartbeat lull me into a peaceful sleep.
His hands playing with my hair and sleep making its way towards me "rest baby" he kisses my temple making me purr, but I don't let him get away and I finally fall asleep in his arms .
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pendarling · 7 months
Text
I Can't Keep Up The Act
Pretending to be a reformed villain was the stupidest idea they could've imagined.
For weeks, Villain had been systematically tasked with only one objective: exploiting and destroying the heroes from the inside. It was brilliant; after all, who was more capable of manipulation than them?
However, had they put their mission first instead of their emotions, Villain might have never been in this situation. They sighed and locked the door in their quarters. Villain pushed their laptop out from beneath their bed and looked at the last email sent from their boss. There would be a power outage in the headquarters any minute, either today or tomorrow.
It was supposed to be a final attack on the heroes; villains had planned this event for months, and the invasion would happen soon.
They bit their thumb, still nervous at the prospects of the event. What was it? Someone once described this feeling as having a change of heart, but how could a villain like themselves ever betray their own for something like that?
Villain often caught their eyes lingering on Hero's small frame from a distance in the lounging area. They were doing that thing again. The one where they put up that big smile with laughter that just bounced off the halls.
It annoyed them, it was seriously pissing them off.
At the same time, though, they couldn't shake this feeling chasing them, dragging them, begging Villain to succumb. It must've been some kind of trick. They tried to convince themselves. This would all go away as soon as they heard the satisfying sounds of Hero break.
Their eyes stayed lingering on Hero, silently observing them. They had their suspicions from the past week begin to grow that maybe Hero was finally catching onto them, and that wouldn't be so good, would it?
"Good morning, Villain."
They glared hard at Hero's feeble attempt at fabricating their kindness. They rolled their eyes, frowning as they looked away, "It's the afternoon now."
"Oh…" Their hands fiddled at their shirt and looked at the clock behind Villain, "…so it is… I guess that's just what happens when I'm always working. Losing track of time and all." They sat next to Villain on the chair's cushion. What was the use of trying to cozy up to them? It wasn't going to work. Villain wouldn't fall for that.
The criminal wondered how long they needed to converse with Hero until they got the hint. Their eyes stayed glued onto the far wall as the criminal remained silent.
"You're kinda lucky though, you just got here so nobody really expectes anything from you."
Was that a jab at their competency? Did Hero think highly of themselves or something? The irritated faces they made didn't go unnoticed this time. Causing a scene right now wasn't in their best interests, Villain instead chose a different approach. They had to convince everyone they weren't a threat, even if that forced them to befriend Hero in some way. They seethed with a feigned smile through gritted teeth.
Hero reflected their expression back, but they had to admit there was a charm to this specific smile they didn't see Hero display with anyone else.
"Right…" Why were they reacting so poorly?
This was definitely some kind of tactic to get Villain to unveil their intentions; Hero knew what this game was about.
But that didn't explain the warmth comforting their heart so graciously.
"Actually, come to think of it, I don't think you ever got the opprotunity to look around the place to its fullest."
Their eyes lit up; that was perfect. Having a look around at the building would better expose all of its weakest points. Maybe Hero wasn't as brilliant as they'd assumed. This was their chance to return the layout information to Supervillain; they would no longer need to sneak around.
As they headed down the long corridors, Villain trailed behind Hero, admiring the cleanliness. Back in the Villain's base, or what was supposed to be a base, was really just a collection of scattered buildings and secret entrances to dark rooms. Villain grew solace in this, so there weren't any problems with it, but there wasn't any harm in respecting what the enemy's HQ was like.
"I had thought you were lying when you first got here."
Villain paused in their tracks. Hero's soft words caught them off guard. They almost didn't catch it at all. For some reason, it really stung to be doubted by their rival of all people.
"What?" They stammered.
Hero turned to them slowly, their eyes carrying shame and guilt, "I'm really sorry for distrusting you." Their hands moved around their head, and their eyes stayed fixated on the floor, "I mean, I know you said you were going to do better, and you did, but still…" they sighed, "I found myself questioning your intentions from time to time, but it turns out-- you really are getting better at this!"
They sheepishly laughed, that melody escaping from them, an irritatingly beautiful voice.
"Why are you sorry?"
Villain held their tongue. They didn't mean for those thoughts to escape them. Hero stopped and looked up.
"Well, I only have that to offer." They walked closer and took Villain's palms into their hands, "So, let's be friends this time. No more awkward tension between us, okay?"
Their brows furrowed with confusion; it was overwhelming for their worst adversary to tell them all this now. There wasn't any time for them to negotiate their feelings. They had a mission to lead, and Villain's part was crucial.
If anything, they should apologize for misleading Hero like this and still faking it. Did Hero honestly fall for all of this?
They were awful.
"Yeah… Thanks for believing in me, I didn't think you would appreciate my company. It's good to know we both feel the same way about this, then."
It must have been a sickness to be so bold to keep lying to Hero like this. It must've been. Even though they were confident that watching Hero's pretty face turn to horror would be their dopamine earlier today, Villain was disgusted at themselves.
"I guess we do."
Hero's hands. They were so warm.
Or was that just them again?
Villain really couldn't tell. All they knew in that instance was that they would protect their hero no matter what changed in the plan.
~~~
MASTERLIST
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maochira · 10 months
Note
the dads being forced to wear all pink to go watch the barbie movies with their kid LMAO and it trends on social media everywhere that’d be funny 😭💀
I'm taking every chance I get to let dad Ego suffer <3
Characters: Ego, Noa, Chris, Lavinho, Snuffy
Requests open! - masterlist
Tags: gn!reader, reader is a teenager, this is for the sillies, no Barbie movie spoilers
Ego
-it already took a while to convince him to see the movie with you, but when you tell him he has to wear something pink he looks at you as if you just said the most insane thing he's ever heard
-his immediate answer is no. And that remains his answer for a while, no matter how many times you ask
-the day before you're seeing the movie he finally gives in. He doesn't own anything pink, though. That means he has to go shopping for new clothes first
-he's still not a fan of wearing pink at all but at least it makes you happy. Don't expect him to ever wear that again, though
-of course someone sees him and then it's all over social media. It makes him want to disappear from the earth forever but you're having the time of your life about it
Noa
-he doesn't mind watching the movie with you, but he didn't expect you to ask him to wear something pink for it
-he refuses at first, but when you ask for the third time he can't say no to you anymore
-at first, he thought he would hate it, but he quickly realized he doesn't mind wearing all pink for that one occasion at all
-plus, you got a matching outfit anyways and Noa thinks it's cute!!
-it's kinda funny to see him with his cold and tired expression being dressed in all pink
-he met a bunch of fans at the cinema and they were having as much of a blast as you about seeing your father in his pink outfit
-he feels extremely embarrassed every time he comes across the pictures on social media and there are even some articles about him seeing the movie with you
Chris
-he immediately said yes when you asked him to see the movie. And when you ask if he will wear something pink, he looks at you in disbelief
-is that really a question needed to ask? Of course he will wear pink. Wearing anything else isn't even an option. He's surprised you felt the need to ask that in the first place
-sometimes it seems as if he's more excited to see the movie than you are because he's walking through the house singing Barbie Girl because it keeps getting stuck in his head at least five times a day
-also expect to hear no other music other than the Barbie movie soundtrack after you've seen the movie with him. Chris will play it in the car and at home at any chance he gets
-he absolutely loves that the pictures of him at the movie go viral. He's super happy about it!!
Lavinho
-he was actually the one who asked you to see the movie because he already knew you would ask him at some point
-he's a little hesitant about wearing all pink at first, but he quickly gives in because he can't say no to anything you ask for (he loves to spoil you)
-at first, he kinda feels as if the colour doesn't fit him, but the longer he wears the outfit the more he loves it
-he starts loving it even more when he finds out the pictures he posted of him wearing that outfit are trending all over social media!! He's happy other people seem to like it as well
-but of course, he's way happier about the great time he had with you seeing the movie!! (he did bawl his eyes out at least two times though)
Snuffy
-when you asked him to see the movie with you he was a little confused. He thought you'd rather see it with friends instead of with him. But he's also happy you asked!
-he didn't want to wear all pink at first, though.
-you convinced him literally everyone else at the cinema will wear pink and it would be weird if he didn't, so he gave in and agreed to an all-pink outfit
-he tries to not feel embarrassed when pictures of him start trending on social media. He doesn't want to feel ashamed because he was just having a great time with you. But every time he comes across the pictures he does feel a bit embarrassed because they're EVERYWHERE all over the internet
Taglist (sign-up link): @kaineedstherapy12 @gojosorrygeto @luvcalico @truegoist @st4rcheese @acacIa @kermitslefteyeball11 @futuristicxie @bluelock4life @blueberrryui @https-archangel @userwithlotsoftime @nikokii @chaosinanutshell @mang05 @astruosie @zyuuuu @vanitasbrainrot @toruden @mafuyudonutt @weichspuelertrinker @depressed-bitchy-demon @kaiserkisser @yellowelectroslime @orah-s @deerangle3 @slowlyholypeanut
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sissylittlefeather · 3 months
Text
Role Play Part 4: Hello Soldier
A/N: I'm sorry this took me so long!! I don't know what I was thinking trying to write two series at once with one shots and Elvis movie characters too! Blame it on the ADHD. ICYMI, this is the series between 1971 Elvis and a fem!reader who like to experiment in the bedroom with different role plays.
Need to catch up? Here's my Masterlist.
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (m & f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, and infidelity (Elvis is definitely married)
Word count: ~2.3k
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Leaving you the last time was harder than Elvis expected. He's very glad to have the photos that he took of you, but it's not enough. Still, he doesn't want to give you the wrong idea, so he doesn't meet up with you. It's also not easy to find time alone with Priscilla there with him. Periodically, she leaves for a short spell and he's able to look at your photos. A couple of times he actually breaks down and calls you just to hear your voice.
Your conversations always last longer than he intends and he usually ends up hanging up quickly when he hears the front door open. It surprises you that he calls, especially after he was so adamant about not being in love with you. But the fact remains that you're in love with him and you know it. It's hard to turn away any amount of attention or time that he gives you. You probably should end it, for your own good, but you just can't. Finally, in the beginning of April, about 6 weeks after the last time you were together, he calls on a Friday afternoon and the excitement in his voice is obvious.
"Hey, baby. Are you busy this weekend?"
"For the whole weekend? No, I didn't have much planned."
"Good. You're coming to Graceland. Cilla went to California for the weekend and took Lisa Marie with her. We have the house to ourselves." The fact that he wants to spend a whole weekend with you is not lost on you. Your heart flip flops at the thought.
"Okay. When should I come over?"
"As soon as you can. And don't forget it's your turn to pick the role play."
"I have an idea." You say playfully.
"I can't wait, honey. I'll see you soon." He hangs up and you get up and pack a bag with a few outfits and toiletries. The last thing you grab is an old nurse outfit you wore for Halloween one year. Before you pack it, you try it on just to make sure it still fits. You look at yourself in the mirror and smile. He's gonna love this one.
******
Elvis is pacing the floor in the living room, every once in a while walking to the piano and sitting down. But he never settles enough to play anything. When you finally pull up, he's smoking a cigarillo and looking out the window. Normally, the house is full of activity, but he's made sure that all of his guys knew to be somewhere else this weekend. The thought of spending two whole days and nights with you is intoxicating. He tries to convince himself that the sex is just that good, but he worries that there's more to it than that. Still, he misses you so much that he can't waste the opportunity to see you.
You walk up to the front door cautiously and knock. The big house is a little intimidating and you don't love that it's where he lives with his wife, but you understand that this is where he feels safe from the prying eyes of the public. And to be honest, at this point you'd go pretty much anywhere just to be with him.
He takes a deep breath to calm himself and then opens the door. He can't let you know how excited he is; it might give the wrong impression.
"Hey, honey. Come on in." He takes your bag from you and then ushers you into the house. Closing the door, he drops your bag on the floor and wraps himself around you affectionately and kisses your hair.
"Did you miss me?" You ask, half-kidding.
"You know I did, baby." He breathes you in and a sense of calm settles in his chest. Why does being around you impact him like this?
******
After a late dinner, you sit at the dining room table talking. It never ceases to amaze you that there always seems to be something to talk about with him.
You finally come to a lull in the conversation and he looks at you and smiles. He's pulled your chair over close to him so he can put his hand on your knee as you talk. He leans over to your ear and whispers.
"I think it might be almost bedtime. What do ya think?"
"Mmmm. Y'know, you're not looking so good." He backs away and gives you a confused look.
"What?"
"I think you need a checkup. I'll call a nurse to come check on you." You wink at him seductively and he catches on.
"Oh! Oh, yeah, I better get upstairs." He feigns illness and you both make your way upstairs. As you walk up in front of him, he smacks your ass.
"Hey! You're supposed to be sick."
"Well, I can't help it when you look like that." At the landing, he grabs you and pulls you into a deep kiss. You push him off you and usher him into the bedroom. When you get in there, you instantly flash back to the first night you were together at the wedding reception. You can't believe you're here again. He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you, setting his chin on your shoulder.
"Are you thinkin' about the gun lesson?"
"Maybe. Or about the handcuffs." He smiles and kisses your cheek.
"I still have 'em."
"Mmm, you're getting me all distracted. You better go get in that bed and let me call the nurse." He reluctantly pulls away from you and makes his way to the bed. You pull your outfit out of your bag and go in the bathroom to change.
When you open the door and walk towards him, his mouth drops open. Then he sits up quickly.
"Wait! That's an army nurse outfit. Hang on a second." He jumps out of the bed, goes in the closet, and shuts the door. You stand there dumbfounded, not knowing what to expect.
After several minutes he opens the door and it's your turn to drop your jaw. He's fully decked out in his army uniform, complete with hat. The only thing he's not wearing is the boots.
"I can't believe you still have that."
"I can't believe I can still wear it." He puts his arms out and spins around. You feel something in your stomach flip flop. He looks incredible. You consider ditching the role play and just fucking him senseless, but you don't.
"Come get in this bed, soldier. I need to check you out."
"Yes ma'am." He sits on the bed with his back up against the pillows and takes his hat off. You're pretty sure this role play won't last long with him looking as good as he does, but you walk up next to the bed and pick up his wrist.
"I need to check your pulse."
"Oh, I'm sorry ma'am. It's hard to find on that side. You'll have to use the other wrist." He holds up his other arm for you, but doesn't move it towards you, so you have to lean across his body. When you do, he uses his other hand to grab a handful of your ass.
"Sir!"
"Oh, I'm sorry. Proceed." You finish pretending to check his pulse and take the fake stethoscope that came with your outfit from around your neck. As you put it in your ears, you make the mistake of looking down at his body. He has a massive and very obvious erection. You clench your thighs together, but it's hard to ignore the wetness there or the way your mouth waters. You're not going to make it much longer.
When you bend over to listen to his heart. He looks down at your cleavage and grunts. He's so ready to have you naked and on top of him. Why did he have to have the grand idea to put on the army uniform? While you listen, he moves his hand to his cock and touches himself just a little bit.
"Sir, what are you doing?"
"I'm sorry nurse, it's just, I'm having the most intense feeling down here and I'm not sure what to do about it."
"Would you like me to take a look?"
"Please, nurse." He smiles coyly and you roll your eyes playfully. You move down his body to his erection and touch it gently, slowly rubbing your hand up and down.
"Does this feel better?"
"A little, but I can hardly feel it through my pants." He licks his lips and tries to smile innocently. You begin to undo his pants and free his cock so that you can take the whole thing in your hands. "Mmm, that's a lot better."
You begin to stroke him, moving his foreskin back and forth. He whimpers and his hips buck up into your hand.
"I have another idea to try and help. Do you mind if I try it?"
"Baby, you can do anything you want to me." You lean over and put your mouth around him and he groans loudly. As you move on him, bouncing up and down slowly, he reaches out and touches you between the legs. When he realizes you're not wearing panties, he runs a finger up your slit and gathers the wetness. "God, you're so wet, honey."
"Mhmmm." You hum as you take him into your throat. At the same time, he pushes one finger into you and begins to pump it in and out. After a few more seconds of this, he pulls his finger out and you whimper a little. He smacks your ass softly.
"Baby, come here." You pull off of him a little, holding him in your hand, and he grabs your ass and guides your hips onto the bed. He scoots down so that he's laying down fully and situates your hips above his face. Then, he pulls your pussy down to his mouth and starts licking your clit. You moan and shudder as the pleasure washes over you and then go back to sucking his cock. You bounce on him quickly as he licks fast circles over and around you. He grunts and you moan as you both approach a climax together, but he pulls back.
"Honey, stop. Focus on what I'm doing. I want you to cum first." You make a disappointed sound, but obey and stop sucking him. He goes back to licking your clit with a new fervor and you lay your forehead on his hip. The sensation of his tongue moving over and around your sensitive bud is almost overwhelming. You feel the blood rush to your core and in just a few more seconds your orgasm slams into you like a freight train, pushing electric ecstasy out to your fingertips.
"Oh, fuck, Elvis, yes!" You cry out as he licks you through your body high. Once you come back down, you climb off of him and both of you sit up and tear at each other's clothing frantically. You can't get naked quick enough and the pieces of his uniform are discarded in a heap next to the bed. He pulls the nurse costume off of you so intensely that he actually tears it in at least one place.
When you finally are naked, he crawls on top of you and drives into you passionately, filling you in one shot and then pumping in and out fervidly. You wrap your legs around his waist and hold onto his shoulders, trying not to dig your nails into his back while he pounds you. There is a desperation and intensity in the way he fucks into you that makes you feel wild. You cry out with each thrust and he lets out a guttural grunt. The sounds are primal and animalistic and they match the pace of his hips slamming against yours. Your skin is hot and wet and you feel like you're on fire in the places where you meet. He kisses your neck and your cheek and your mouth and you bite his bottom lip. He responds by nipping at your neck and the two of you are caught up in each other and the moment so much that you forget anything else exists. There's only you and him and the shared pleasure of your connection. After what feels like an eternity but also not quite long enough, he ruts into you one last time and groans loudly.
"Fuckkkkk yesssss, y/n, yessss." He shudders and pumps weakly a couple more times and then collapses on top of you. You both lay there covered in sweat and trying to catch your breath.
"Goddamn, y/n. You're incredible." He's so lost in you right now that he wants nothing more than to spend the rest of his life having this kind of sex.
"You're not so bad yourself, soldier." You respond playfully, but there's a depth to what you're feeling that scares you a little. He pulls out and rolls off of you onto his side. You roll over to face him and push his sweaty hair back off of his forehead. He runs his fingertips down the side of your face and then swipes his thumb over your lips gently. His affection for you is undeniable at this point and he starts to worry that he might actually be falling in love with you. That was not the plan. This was supposed to be a fling that would last a month or two and be nothing but sex. He decides he'll tell you to go home in the morning. He'll give himself one more night to hold you and then it's over.
It has to be.
******
Until Part 5
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Taglist:
@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican
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al3zthecat-blog · 3 months
Text
Thinking about when talking about Shang Quinghua and the original Shang Quinghua I've usually seen that the original is portrayed as the evil twin or the dumber twin.
In the case of the second, I've read theories(?) I guess that say that Airplane was a better Peak Lord (in part because in his past life he had access to higher education) and a better spy because he had inside knowledge as the author.
This one I can get behind, Airplane having an advantage by knowing the plot would make him seem to be more capable to outsiders.
In the case of the first one I actually like to think that if they were twins Airplane would be the "evil one".
While I totally think that the reason Airplane is so comfortable doing all the shit he did is because he doesn't think of anyone (besides maybe MBJ and SY) as real people, from an outsider perspective it doesn't look like that. And while I know that the argument could be said that this would make the original SQH more devious/evil/whatever, as he would be operating with the belief that his world is real, I think that this depends on whatever original SQH was a good spy and how many and what type of atrocities he committed. Because we don't really know.
So, let's say that Airplane was a better servant/spy to MBJ in part because of his insider knowledge and past life. But that the other part is that he lacks the "morals" that would have held back the original because he doesn't see as anyone as real people.
Maybe the original had some morals. Maybe the reason MBJ fell in love with Airplane is that he was attracted not only to his loyalty but by how ruthless he is (something that for demons I bet would be attractive). From MBJ'S perspective, Airplane is, yes weak and cowardly, but also completely loyal and devoted to MBJ while at the same time kind of ruthless to anyone else.
In the case of the original SQH maybe he was not as willing to betray his sect. Like, maybe he was ambitious enough that he thought he could eventually make it so there was a treaty between CQM and the North and from his perspective he wasn't really betraying his sect. Getting rid of HHP was whatever since it was another sect and he could get behind that as long as CQM remained safe. Maybe he thought he and MBJ had an understanding of working together.
Except of course that they didn't and MBJ always planned on killing him.
Like, say MBJ knew about what was SQH'S ambitious and he was either thinking SQH would eventually betray him or that he didn't believe SQH would be capable of convincing his sect of an alliance and was just playing around while taking advantage of SQH. Either way a win for MBJ.
Then of course LBH happens and MBJ no longer has time for games, LBH wants CQM obliterated so CQM has to go and with it gone he no longer has reason to keep playing games with SQH so he kills him.
To make it more sad I like to imagine that original SQH was also fond of MBJ (maybe even in love with him) and that he did not see this happening at all.
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the-s1lly-corner · 8 months
Note
Proxies with a fem reader going to a pumpkin patch so she can pick out her pumpkin? :>
Proxies and Fem!Reader going to a pumpkin patch!
obligatory toby is platonic but tbh i dont think romance ties too much into these specific hcs also i havent been to a pumpkin patch in years so im really scraping my brain trying to remeber what people do asides pick pumpkins...and google... a lot of google... i admit i had to fight myself not to make this a group thing where it's all together but im 80% sure you wanted these separate no unique gifs for each character, too eepy (its 6am rn and i couldnt sleep for the life of me SOBS)
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Masky:
I feel like out of the three he's probably going to give the most resistance, he just doesn't like being around where loads of people may be; too much noise you know? But with enough coaxing and reassurance I do believe you can convince him to tag along
Most straight forward about it, wants it to be in and out, so he kinda beelines and tries to find a pair of pumpkins that'll do
"Babe... those ones are too small to carve..." "They're. Average."
Sorry I had to make that joke
Anyways
Out of all the activities there you might get him to sit down for a hayride if it's not too too packed!
Overall it's an okay experience, but really this guy would prefer the pumpkin carving at home after the fact; out on a porch sitting next to one another, alone in comfortable silence! He saves the seeds to make into snacks later
Hoodie:
A little more willing to go out! I feel like he's the easiest in terms of talking into stuff! As long as it's not anything dangerous he's more than willing to spend time with you.... all the better to keep his eye on you.. both in a cute aww he wants to protect you way and a creepy way but hey that's creepypasta for you
If they're offering shitty quickly constructed rides count him in, he's going to be the one dragging you!
While I'm not sure what rides would be there I'm sure there'd be but you're gonna be there for way longer than originally planned
Saving this for another day but Ferris Wheel trope where it gets stuck, one of y'all totally shouldn't send in a character for me to do that for wink wink nudge nudge
Probably the most emotive you see Hoodie, ever, it's actually a little jarring at first but it's cute in it's own way that he's getting all hyped up over some rides
overall? y'all forget to actually. pick pumpkins so you guys have to almost immediately return to go browse at the pumpkins that remain. Does the thing where you knock on produce to make sure it sounds right. Does he know what he's going or what he's looking for? No clue but hey there's that mental image, Hoodie kneeling down on the ground, head pressed against a pumpkin and tapping it
Ticci Toby:
Pretends to not wanna go but really he's totally fucking stoked that you wanna go somewhere with him, him? like him him? Toby? Well if you insist-
That bit sounded mean but I believe Toby feels.... I don't know how to put it but like I think it's because he used to be bullied and left out that he still gets a little surprised when you willingly invite him to hang out; not that he's complaining though
Haunted corn maze. This fucker beelines for the corn maze. You have lost your silly friend with an affinity for collecting empty snail shells (hc)
Good luck trying to find him, if it's one of those mazes with scare actors he's not going to flinch or scream so there goes your audio cue
Eventually you do find him though! So it's not totally disastrous! It just takes you upwards of fifteen minutes because you yourself got lost before looping back to the entrance, only to find this little shit sitting right by the entrance
Seriously how the fuck did he do that?
No clue
You know how sometimes pumpkins are bumpy or a lil... off looking? Leave it to this fucker to make several jokes about how they look, primarily ragging on the bumpier ones
"Hey look, it looks like you" "shut the fuck up"/j
Generally a very good time as long as you ignore the small heart attack you got when Toby disappeared! Good luck cleaning the mess after carving up your pumpkins
He probably tries to see what the guts taste like
idk what raw pumpkin guts taste like
not sure if its any good because ive only tried pre canned pumpkin puree and used it for baking so idk if it tastes good straight from the source
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 6 months
Note
could we get some more Steven? (pokepasta) just after the incident, after what happened with Mike? he's just a mess (in a more crazy way then sad) but his mood is constantly swinging from "he deserved it" to "im a monster" and (fem)reader helps him relax and gives some kisses and affection to calm him down? <3
(she's a gentle person compared to him being violent<33)
"It was only fair, right? He deserved it...he was jealous. He took my dreams..my happiness...my Miki."
"B...Blast..?"
"Your master was a horrible man, Blastoise. But you're free now."
"Blas..toise..."
"...you should be grateful."
With tense muscles and fear rushing through his veins like a current, Blastoise refused to look at the man scowling at him with glowing eyes. He couldn't even tear his own away from the body of his trainer.
Mike.
His owner, the one who had raised him since he was a little Squirtle....was dead.
All he did was come out of his pokeball as soon as he heard Steven's screams, only to be met by the sight of the ex-champion's older brother lying motionless on the bed. He didn't know what to make of the haunted expression still etched all over his face, nor the way his eyes remained opened and filled with tears...or the large bruises around his neck.
And the blood..
There was a lot of it coming from his mouth.
Over the past year, Blastoise knew Steven and Mike had a falling out ever since the accident with Miki. While he didn't fully understand all the details of that dreadful day, he was sad to learn he'd never get to see the Charizard ever again, with a visit to her grave being enough proof of that.
He knew how genuinely sorry his master was, regretting the trade every single day. Yet it wasn't enough for Steven.
He wanted revenge, and it turned him into something horrible.
Now Mike was dead, and he was standing there in the darkness, parts of his body glitching as he told Blastoise such awful things...as though he was in the wrong for mourning.
But...he didn't actually mean that, right?
Why would he say such things?
Why would he do this to his own brother?
Yet when the large turtle finally managed to look away and glare at Steven, he was surprised by what he saw: the trainer no longer looked menacing, but instead seemed rather...lost and remorseful.
"Blastoise..I....I'm sorry...I..." Looking down at his hands, he was mortified by the blood staining his fingertips. They began to shake the longer he stared, tears filling up his eyes. "What have I done..?"
"Blast?" Blastoise approached cautiously.
Then they both heard the front door open, and Steven panicked.
"Don't tell her..please." He rushed into the bathroom, locking the door behind him so he could wash his hands, desperate to get rid of the bloodstains.
Yet even as they disappeared physically, in his mind....they weren't washing off.
In his mind, his hands were completely tainted in red, and every passing second made him feel sick to his stomach.
He knew you were going to find out, and he silently cursed himself as he heard Blastoise calling out for you. Of course, he wasn't his trainer...so it's obvious he wasn't going to listen to him.
Turning off the sink, he just listened to your footsteps coming up the stairs, before they stopped upon entering his room. He could only imagine what your expression was upon seeing Mike's body, but he resisted the urge to sob and alert you to his presence.
Even so, however, Blastoise pointed you to the bathroom door, and you've been trying to convince him to come out....yet he refused.
No way should he be anywhere near you now.
He wasn't even expecting you to be home this early.
While you were working at a Pokémon Center overnight, you heard whispers from visitors about a long-haired trainer walking around with an eerie smile, apparently possessed by Missingno: a strange Pokémon that nobody was meant to find.
You didn't wanna believe it was your boyfriend, of all people, but he and Mike did learn about it while they were trying to finish their pokedexes.
Despite all the sources not being 100% verified by experts--Professor Oak included--Steven's obsession with this "myth" grew tenfold since Miki's passing. He wanted to find it and control it, and not because of a pokedex or fame or anything else.
He wanted it to change the very course of nature itself.
To bring her back.
There's been a circulating rumor that Missingno could corrupt the very soul of its trainer, driving them to do horrific and unspeakable things under its influence while amplifying their deepest and darkest internal thoughts...
And Steven, whether he found it or vice versa, unfortunately proved that to be true. It must have been feasting on his grief over Miki, leading to him making such irrational decisions he can't undo.
You believed that had to be it.
He was being controlled by this monster.
There's no way he'd do any of this otherwise....right?
It took a while for him to come out and face you, so you ended up waiting downstairs--although not before covering Mike's body with the sheet so it wasn't the first thing he saw. You had Blastoise go into his pokeball, keeping it safely tucked away in your bag.
You kept waiting on the couch for a few minutes, before hearing footsteps and turning your attention to the stairwell.
For a moment, your heart jumped into your throat upon seeing what looked like the shadow of a Charizard cast on the wall....but it was quick to disappear.
"[Y/n]? Wh-Why..are you still here?"
You blinked, only seeing Steven on the stairs now, clutching the railing and looking completely terrified. Dry tears stained his cheeks, and his eyes and nose were all red and raw from crying.
Not to mention his hair looked even worse than it did this morning...but then again, it's been that way for a year.
You helped him take care of it during his depression spells, although under no circumstance did he ever want it cut. He sometimes got angry if you tried to push him to visit the salon, so you left it be.
You'd never force him to go. Not when he's been through enough already.
It seems Missingno took a liking to his hair, as now it looked as though Zapdos struck him with lightning. It made him appear twice as big...which would have been frightening to anybody who didn't know him.
Not to you, though.
You knew him better than anyone.
"Steven.." You gently began, only to frown as he continued hiding in the shadows.
"No...I can't.." He whispered shakily. "I..I-I'm not...well, [y/n]. You should leave before I-"
"I'm not going anywhere, okay? We can talk about this.."
"......."
"Steven?"
"..what's there to talk about? You already know what I did."
Hearing his voice become distorted, you jumped as he suddenly appeared right in front of you, staring down at you with red eyes and a pearly-white grin. The rest of his face was overtaken by total darkness.
"I had no choice. I had to do it...for her. Mike ruined my life. He was a prick who deserved everything he had coming. I call it karma, wouldn't you?" He laughed.
"I know you don't mean that..that's not what the Steven I know would say." You shook your head, gently and cautiously taking his hands into yours. And he gazed at them, confused by your actions.
You weren't afraid to touch him?
Even though they were the same hands that killed someone?
"You and I both know that thing won't bring her back."
"Maybe not..but at least I tried to do something about it." He snarled, a certain bitterness to his tone. "You just kept telling me "things will get better" for a whole damn year. Well...did they, [y/n]?"
When you didn't answer, he kneeled down so you could get a better view of his face, hoping you'd finally see the monster he had become.
"Do I look "better" to you?"
"...no, and I'm sorry if I didn't do enough to help you." You tried your best to stay calm, lightly rubbing your thumb across his knuckles. "Maybe I could've stopped you from chasing down Missingno. I'm shocked it chose to go with you, but....it's not gonna scare me away, alright? You're not gonna scare me away."
"......."
"I'm horrified at what happened, but I still love you, Steven. And I can't see myself abandoning you when you're like this. I wanna keep helping you...if you'll let me, of course."
For a few long moments, he was silent as he observed your small affectionate gesture. You didn't know what he was thinking in this moment, since the bill of his hat was hiding his entire face.
Just as you stopped, however, you heard a small sniffle. His hands began trembling in your grasp.
"...please help me."
"Steven..." Pausing, you saw him look back up at you, his expression returning to normal. With panicked breaths, he crumbled into your lap, clutching your shirt desperately as his hat slipped off and fell to the ground.
You just held him closely, soothingly pet his hair in an effort to calm him down while his body wracked with light sobs...as though he were a Cubone crying out for its mother. He kept repeating "please" and how sorry he was.
This, alone, proves that he didn't mean to kill Mike at all. He wasn't himself.
At first, you weren't sure if the boy you knew and loved was still there...but he was, and he needed you by his side.
You were going to stay, for better or worse.
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mean-scarlet-deceiver · 4 months
Note
Daisy & Mavis?
Or maybe Sir Handel & Peter Sam?
Ooooh, Sir Handel and Peter Sam have a fascinating dynamic. However, I don't really have much to say that others haven't already said, and probably said better. To the degree that I'm tempted to talk about their Trauma Responses, I have another ask about Sir Handel & Skarloey, so I think I'll fold these thoughts into that post.
So, Daisy and Mavis — love 'em — only wish they got more screen time!
("Screen" time. Do they ever have a significant interaction in the television series? I really want to be told if they do.)
Actually they only have one page in RWS where they exchange a word. But it's such a good page. Posting it here for the uninitiated:
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Look at this mess. Look at this absolutely perfect bitchfest. There are a total of zero brain cells in this conversation. Venting to your work bestie and and letting loose your inner mean girl. A classic RWS dynamic! It's just the diesel (& the female) version of the Thomas and Percy relationship: They make each other worse.
But, they need each other.
But, they make each other worse...!
Despite their lack of screentime following this, you cannot convince me that these two don't remain peas in a pod, just like 1 and 6 after 6 is transferred to the branch line.
I do think it's rather sad that Mavis is holed up in the quarry. :( There's a real bummer of a line when she appears in a later Christopher story...
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"Besides, she sometimes finds it dull up at the Quarry with no one to talk to but trucks." I know it's realistic, but I want better for her. LET 👏 HER 👏 OUT 👏
Once smartphones became a thing, I like to imagine that they videocalled from the quarry to the carriage shed every night. (Annie, Clarabel, and Henrietta are very understanding about this when the call lasts half an hour. If ever the workers try to indulge Daisy and Mavis with a longer call, however, the coaches start murmuring...)
One great thing about this convo is that it's the first time I feel like I'm really, genuinely looking at lasting steam/diesel coexistence on Sodor's 'big railway.' Coz this is a target Awdry has been trying to hit for at least a dozen books now, yeah? Due mostly to his publishers' pressures, he's been trying to have beloved diesel characters while keeping his 1920-cosplay steam railway too, and this is where I think he finally hits the target. Daisy's first appearance was hamstrung because the turning point where she changes her haughty new-engine attitude and where the others accept her despite all the shit she's already pulled is off-screen, we're just told "they're friends now" and have to be all "right. sure." Probably because he got negative feedback on his Daisy hash, Awdry played it suuuuper safe with BoCo and Bear — less so Bear, but that's another post; for now I will just say that in contrast to Daisy they are presented as very clean-as-a-whistle, and their acceptance by the railway is made so much of that it doesn't feel natural, they both feel like one-offs. But then, ahhh. Now we've got Mavis, and Awdry has the bright idea to let her talk to Daisy, and BANG. Now we're here. This doesn't feel Informed, or starch-and-stiff, or tokenistic. You read this and you're like oh, yeah. Even the sleepiest branch line on this railway is now part dieselised. They're acting like characters! Everybody is acting like squabbling coworkers! It's like sinking at last into a warm relaxing soak. Ahhhhh. Here's the good stuff.
Because they don't need to be Representatives of dieselkind? They can just kinda suck for a moment, without being villains? When TVS subs out Daisy for Diesel, it automatically gives this conversation a sinister air. He's the devil on Mavis's shoulder. But in the original, there's nothing sinister here; it's homey. They're just venting to each other. Their behavior is kinda crappy, but also very normal and recognisable. New work besties fr. They are both three drinks in.
Daisy: He said what to you? Omg babe. I cannot believe that old garden shed said that to youuu.
Mavis: Right?????
Daisy: raising a glass Anything steam engines do, we diesels can do BETTER!
Mavis: hauling herself a bit unsteadily to her feet so that her gesticulation can be its most dramatic and sweeping You are RIGHT and you should SAY IT!
(Narrator: mildly ... Daisy was not right and, being probably the most specialised and least versatile engine then on her railway, she definitely should not have been saying it.)
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(Above: The quintessential moment. Mavis & Daisy are commiserating/carping, and Annie & Clarabel are trying so hard to not hear their shit.)
Now, I've always had a question here...
Did Toby really say that only steam engines can shunt trucks?
The text indicates only that he was annoyed that she kept re-arranging things, they had a tiff, she rejected his input and left.
Then again, the text doesn't reveal that Percy calls Mavis's shunting "a ---- ------ ------ mess!", so, y'know. We get the minimum detail necessary in these stories. ;)
We never see Toby express any such sentiment about diesel engines. I'm inclined to think he never said this — and I suspect we're not supposed to believe he said this, only that Mavis is in stroppy teen mode and exaggerating and embellishing her grievances to the point where she's straight-up making shit up.
Still, I'm not sure. Usually in the RWS if a character is lying they are slyly or explicitly called out for it in the nearby text and this time the claim is just... sitting here.
Ultimately, I don't think he ever said that to her, but (considering how salty everyone on the Ffarquhar line can get: some have quicker fuses than others but they're all so provoke-able) I don't think Mavis just made this up completely. If she were making up stories from whole cloth, that would be... well, that would be 'Devious' Diesel behavior! I suspect, however, that Toby and Percy (comparing notes on her shunting) are at least thinking it, or have said it to each other, and Mavis has picked up on these vibes. All of which would be incredibly realistic.
Anyway, I bring this up because the answer does color my read of this conversation a little. If Mavis is completely making up attitudes that Toby never dreamed of having, and Daisy just eats it up and eggs her on, that makes this conversation somehow even 10x messier (and somehow I'm still rooting for their friendship). If this is a sentiment that is real or implied when Mavis or Daisy annoy the other Ffarquhar engines (and they can both be annoying, no question) then the bond between these two characters, with their very different personalities, just becomes even more 'understandable.'
Anyway, about those differences. Mainly, Daisy is ultimately very conventional. (This reminds me I have a nearly-finished essay about Daisy lying around somewhere. For now...) Mavis is the original, creative one, the mover-and-shaker. All Daisy's initial behaviors, as Hazel observed recently, are things we've seen from proud new engines before! She wants lots of attention, she boasts, she tries her damnedest to get out of work that she thinks is beneath her. What Mavis wants is to improve things, to have more responsibility, to get to stretch her wheels. Furthermore, Daisy by nature is keen to avoid work that's too heavy (she's a railcar with limited pulling power, so, you know, understandable); Mavis doesn't mind work — she just doesn't like being told how to do it, and she doesn't like being bored!
A point where they can be contrasted is in how they accept Toby's help and friendship at the end of their initial... "arcs." (All right, Daisy's "arc" is ended so clumsily that you can barely call it that, but you get me.) I'm not saying Mavis is devious or calculating, but for her Toby's offer of friendship is just as important as a pathway to her getting out of the quarry sometimes as it is for his forgiveness. It is her ticket out. For Daisy, Toby's offer of friendship was important because she wants friends, now she's making a friend yay!! — and I think that was pretty much it. Daisy just wants positive attention; that's what all her 'modern and right-up-to-date' stuff was about, but that failed to get her the positive attention she wanted and it turned out that being a team player did, so she had little trouble re-orienting herself. She resisted the pressure of everyone on the platform for her first train because she clung to the memory of her friend the fitter, but I don't think she's one to resist peer pressure in general, and as time passed and the Ffarquhar line residents became her peers, it was completely inevitable that she start to conform to their ways.
So (although, again, annoyingly — we aren't shown) I reckon that Daisy panicked after Percy's accident when she realized that she would be in trouble too (all right, someone probably had to point it out to her). And so for the first time she pitches in and does some hard work. Toby can't help but own "you did well to get all your half cleared, Daisy" and Daisy's entire system lights up because compliment, baby!!! That's all she ever wanted. She's Toby's man now (so to speak).
I can also easily imagine that, in trying to get adjusted to Mavis, Toby remembered how thing went last time. He must have tried from the first to tell himself, through slightly gritted teeth, "Just find something to compliment the new engine on, just anything. Helps build trust." But he was stymied twice over. 1) She keeps re-arranging the trucks in some crazy-ass unapproved way and he can't find ANYTHING nice to say! 2) It wouldn't have worked, anyway. Mavis wouldn't have been satisfied with just some friendly attention. Mavis wants to do. shit.
Mavis is bright — possibly has little common sense, but she's bright. I do wonder sometimes if her shunting arrangements are actually bad, or if they're just different and Toby and Percy can't adjust. (The text does own that due to the siding arrangements it's inefficient to put the trucks where Toby expects them. She probably does optimize things — from her point of view, anyhow.) Either way, though, here is an active and creative mind at work. Plus, her ploy to slo-o-owly expand her pathway down the line in "Toby's Tightrope" shows long-term planning, which is hardly something we've ever seen any vehicle do! So yeah, she's well above-average bright for an engine.
Hilariously, in Their Own Scene she is easily impressed by Daisy's lofty confidence (another classic RWS dynamic — it's giving Duncan staring amazed at James's boasting), but she's also super young, hasn't been Toby-fied yet, and in short I expect that as the years go by Mavis is likely to see Daisy as less of a role model and more of a crony/partner-in-crime. Daisy might instigate things sometimes — but she needs Mavis and Mavis's bright ideas before she really makes much headway! And I expect Mavis is often the instigator anyway. In her literary-device role of Second Coming of Thomas (Dieselised Flavour), she probably continues to want all sorts of things that engines aren't supposed to pine for (silly stick-in-the-muds!) Daisy is quite content to grumble but put up. Mavis will find a way to make stuff happen.
(Which is the only explanation we're going to get for how Mavis is at large on every quarry and some not-remotely-a-quarry sets on the island, come TVS!)
That was a light rap on the TVS there, but not a very hard knock; at least TVS insisted (in spite of all logic) on using her character for stuff. Christopher lets me down, personally, by finding so little for Mavis to do — and never having her and Daisy interact! I want more of this shit so badly.
However, in the Author's Note of Thomas Comes Home, Daisy apparently has a bee in her bonnet about fans who think the series has no female engines and is like 'me and Mavis tho!!!!!!' Which... I like seeing Daisy mention Mavis. That's all. It assures me that they’re still a duo (although I prefer Wilbert's interpretation that they bond over being The Two Diesels On This Line vs. Christopher's implication that their bond is being The Two Girls On This Line).
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emeritus-fuckers · 1 year
Note
Okay BUT - Yandere Terzo, vampire or not, and a virgin darling? Maybe some first time smut?
Since I wanna work on the big oneshots before going to work on Saturday (my sick leave is over), I'm gonna do this as headcanons. If you want a oneshot, feel free to send another ask, but it's gonna have to wait until either the Copia or the Secondo one is done.
Yandere Terzo taking his s/o's virginity (headcanons)
This is a special occasion, he gets to be your first, after all!
Regular Terzo would make it special, but Yandere Terzo goes even farther.
It's all about your pleasure and him finally claiming you as his.
This means he's gonna do more possessive shit that he would normally.
There's so much hickeys it almost looks like you're bruised after a serious beating.
He also bites, which is something he wouldn't normally do. He just wants to claim you in every way possible.
Rubs his face against your chest with a happy sigh. His dreams are finally coming through, he gets to have you.
The foreplay lasts hours as he lets himself examine your body oh so carefully. Learns everything. Where to touch, where to kiss, where to nibble.
He's gonna be weird about it. Like, he'll just take a moment to lay with his face pressed against your crotch just to enjoy the smell of your arousal.
Try to remain calm, because if you interrupt his weird worship time (can I call it that???), he's gonna very suddenly start giving you oral aggressively.
Don't worry, he'll calm down in a moment, he just wanted to spook you.
He's gonna apologize profusely, giving you soothing kisses all over your face.
You have no reason not to trust him, he was just messing around a bit! There's no reason to get nervous!
He's gonna gaslight you into thinking that you overreacted because you were nervous. He doesn't do that much gaslighting (at least compared to others), but he's very good at it. A natural, even.
He slowly convinces you to let him please you with his mouth again, this time much slower and nicer as he enjoyed your taste. He's an expert, with all his experience.
Even as he makes it mostly about himself, he's so skilled and you're so inexperienced, you can't tell the difference.
He makes you cum with just his mouth alone and he makes you cum HARD.
He almost overstimulates you as he licks up your cum, stopping himself when your cute little whimpers start sounding dangerously like sobs.
Once again, reassurance, affection and gaslighting. Everything is fine. You're just very nervous.
And it's gonna get in your head so bad you actually apologize to him for being so difficult.
You're just so adorable, aren't you?
He doesn't mind having to soothe you, by the way. He's completely fine with that.
Why wouldn't he be fine with you in his arms, seeking his comfort? It just means that no matter what he does, he's the only one you trust. And he loves it so much.
He actually has to wait for a minute when he finally enters you, because he feels like he might just cum on the spot.
Finally, he got to feel you around his cock, nothing seperating the two of you.
He claims he's waiting for you to adjust, but it's really so he doesn't end up painting your insides white so early.
Loses himself in kissing you until you gently tap his shoulder and nod. You were ready. Or at least you thought you were ready, because you panicked when he started to slowly move.
And so you would be in his arms again. He'd hold you tight as his cock rested inside you. He didn't mind waiting, no.
As excited as he was, he was also patient. He knew that he had to make you want more.
Once you announced that you were ready again, he chuckled softly and finally got to move. Terzo is usually pretty vocal, but this time he forced himself to stay quiet, just to hear your sweet sounds of pleasure.
He can go all night and even longer, just for you. And he absolutely will leave you wanting even more next time.
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samstclair · 8 months
Text
Tommy Shelby's Barmaid
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Tommy Shelby X Reader
Anonymous Request - 
Good morning/afternoon/evening/night Sammy Sammy yes I am! So check this out - I just saw Oppenheimer and came to the conclusion that I really miss seeing Cillian Murphy's face. So that night I began rewatching Peaky Blinders and am just in awe. So you know the point. I want to be his barmaid. No hate to Grace, love her, but let a girl just imagine. And that's where you come in. So yeah I wanna be his barmaid and sing to him. Maybe we're off to the races? Do your thing or else I'll might do a thing and report your account! :)
Word Count: pretty long
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"And where are we off to, Miss?" 
"One ticket to London, please!" you told the airport cashier, (or whatever they're called I'm not sure tbh), with your gleeful, bimbo smile. "The UK, one, thought. Not the Ohio one! Can't have that happening again!"
The lady didn't respond, she instead gave you a soft customer service fake ass laugh pretending she knew full well what you were talking about and kept her eyes down on the computer, securing that flight. You no longer trusted yourself to use computers or laptops, thanks to those Benadryl pills you used to be addicted to. But now that you were evicted from your New York apartment, you lost those pills in the process, and honestly all of your personal shit, so you've been forced to quit cold turkey and was actually experiencing withdrawals at the very moment. But, you couldn't let anyone know this! You needed to leave America fast. 
"Okay, to confirm your name, Y/L/N, Y/F/N, correct?" 
"Yes, ma'am!" You passed her your credit card and she did her magic, charging you a fuck ton of money!
The printer pooped out your ticket and she passed both that and your card back to you. 
"Enjoy your flight. Safe travels," the lady wished you. 
"Oh my god, girl, you too!" you wished back. You turned around and found your terminal, buying an expensive Starbucks drink of your choice and plopping your big butt down on a chair. You sat and looked around, sipping your coffee like a mother, taking in your surroundings of this little JFK airport they got going on. 
"I'm really a world traveler right now...like, I'm on some Lewis and Clark shit right now," you thought to yourself. 
You looked down at your luggages, or perhaps, just luggage. All that remained after your eviction just filled one Hello Kitty-themed suitcase you bought from TJ Maxx. You also had your rare vintage Juicy Couture purse you bought from Depop, thats faux leather was literally peeling off like dead skin, filled with all your essentials - lip gloss, nearly dead Elf Bar, crumpled up two-year-Goodwill old receipts, wired headphones because that's what cool people use walking down the street, crystals, loose hair ties, a baby Calico Critter, wire-exposed phone charger, and more that aren't too important to mention. You did miss all your other knick knacks and items that were lost, but since you were traveling light you 1. saved more money since it was just carry-on and 2. looked mysterious, just a girl on the road on her own adventure. 
"After all, items are just like - items. Things." you thought, trying to convince yourself that all material items are just not real and people don't really need those things. This is what you repeated to yourself over and over but in all honesty it wasn't helping. You were fucking pissed you lost all your shit. 
With all your items was your go-to airport fit - a Juicy baby blue tracksuit. So now you resorted to old PJ's you had shoved to the bottom depths of your drawer, wrinkled to the house boots down and forgotten of existence. They were a pair of Nike shorts and a baby tee that read "I <3 Surfer Boys". You then looked down to your white Crocs with the knock-off Jibblitz - the ootd would just have to do. 
As you sat in your terminal, waiting, you thought about what adventures UK would bring to you. You wondered what people you'd encounter, what new storylines you'd get wrapped into, what NPCs would say to you - it really did feel like you were fast-traveling into another country in a video game. 
Safe to say, you were ready for liftoff! Whenever that liftoff! would be because your flight was delayed like three times cause that's just airport things! This was the start of a new adventure! New and humble beginnings! No more America and their never-ending obsession with you committing financial fraud or whatever the IRS loved to say! But never mind that don't ask don't PUSH!!!!!!
Some hours later, you were finally able to board your flight. By this time, let's just say - people were fucking pissed about their flight being delayed, but you didn't really mind it. Yes, you were in a big time rush to leave America as soon as possible, but all that time waiting allowed you to finish the only downloaded show on your phone: LPS Popular. Shit was finally getting heated, Savannah Reed was def the no nonsense type of girl you envisioned yourself to be. 
Anyway whatever you boarded on, took your window seat and went through the usual bullshit of waiting for everyone to board on and take off and turbulence and random ass baby crying and shitty food and whatever. 
About a half hour in the sky, you looked through the catalogue of movies available - none which caught your interest. 
However, after scrolling for another half hour - you found the one. 
"Oh my god, a movie about two lovers flying in the sky staring Cillian Murphy and Rachel McAdams?!" you thought excitedly. "That's some good shit right there."
You hit that play button, scooted deeper into that seat, propped your patas up, and was subsequently locked IN for the short ass movie Red Eye. 
The majority of the plot went over your head because you were to entranced with the Irish actor's cunty little face, sassy little attitude and blue big orbs for eyes, causing you to replay certain scenes over and over. (Specifically that bathroom scene. You didn't miss SHIT there). That hour and a half passed by and the movie had finished. Safe to say, you were NOT expecting any of that shit to go down.
"If that were me, I'd call that fucking hotel before he even told me to. Shit. I get Mark Wahlberg, if I was on that plane, things really would have gone differently," you thought, shaking your head. ]
After your almost seven hour flight, you had finally made it to London Town. It was indeed a stormy day, he was right, but you could go outside and roam around, contrary to popular belief. In order to prep for this trip, you stuck to just watching British films, trying to get an overall vibe of what those little redcoats were like. Pride and Prejudice (2005), Love Actually, Trainspotting, Little Women (Greta's version), Clockwork Orange, Barry Lyndon - let's just say, your Letterboxd was going crazy. You sobbed pretty disgustingly to all of them, except Trainspotting and Clockwork, which made you feel just icky. And Barry Lyndon just made you angry fuck that guy fr. 
A/N - I just realized that Little Women, both Greta's version and the older 90s Winona Ryder one take place, in FACT, America. Oops! So yeah disregard move on u horndog <3
You once thought you were well-rounded on what chaos was, after all, you've been 1. in theater school, 2. briefly in the Medellin cartel, 3. worked in corporate America - but all of those experiences looked like fun Sunday pastimes the moment you stepped your fat butt off of the plane into London's Heathrow airport. Nothing could've prepped you for this shit. Too many people all doing different things in different directions was NOT your favorite place to be in! Let's just say - shit was hectic. 
You boarded off, left your terminal and gathered your one Hello Kitty-themed suitcase and bolted the fuck out, running at your highest speed possibly, your Crocs locked in their sports mode, you just ran. It's what you did best, your superpower some might say. Maybe since Ezra Miller is canceled for being a kidnapper, you could possibly replace the Flash? Who knows tbh. 
You ran so fast, miles and miles, (kilometers here!), you didn't realize you were now standing in front of the Big Ben. It was, admittedly, pretty big. Too bad you couldn't read time like that. 
You looked down to your phone to see your receipt - you needed to be back in three hours for your next flight to Glasgow, Scotland - your actual destination. This London shit? Yeah it was only a layover. But you couldn't miss it. 
You ended up missing it. You fell asleep on the big red bus, thinking you could sneak a little tour in before having to return for your next flight. By the time you woke up, it was morning, and you were alone, just you and your carry on. 
"Ello Miss? Miss?" 
Your eyes fluttered, adjusting to the brightness. A big English dude with missing and fucked up teeth was poking you awake. 
"Bro what?" you muttered, pushing yourself up. 
"Miss, it seems you've drifted off to sleep," the man said.
"Wait," you collected your thoughts, looked around at your surroundings, then down to your phone - your flight was seven hours ago. You felt your heart fall to the acidic pits of your stomach - 
"Ain't no fucking way I'm stuck in London", you blurted out.  "AIN'T NO FUCKING WAY!"
As if you took ten shots of DayQuil, you jumped up, scrambled for your shit and rocked the bus side to side as your Crocs took you across it, out to the exit and back onto the cobblestone streets of London Town. It was cloudy as always. 
"Oh no. Oh fuck. Oh no. NO I CAN'T DO THIS I CAN'T!" you yelled, running back towards the direction of that hell of an airport. You needed to get back. You NEEDED to get back to Scotland, you literally saw Trainspotting just for Scotland!
But alas, it was too late. By the time you made it back to Heathrow, there was no refunding. You would have to pay another fat BUCK to get on another flight. 
"Oh fuck that," you told the English lady. You walked back out, no way this little kingdom was gonna make a profit off of your ass. "I'd rather walk!"
And then you began to walk. Not run, you were a little hungry and needed some energy for that amount of dedication. 
You stopped by a tea place and thought that you might as well have a crumpet or whatever, which sucked ass. They charged so much for what?  A pastry with like three grams of sugar? Girl bye. 
You sat on the curb, looking down at your phone and opening a map, you could literally just walk to Scotland. Yeah it'd be a pretty fat walk, but you might get a crazy BBL ass for free from all the walking. 
"Babes? Are you alroight?" you heard a strong British voice call. You turned and there it was - a chav. A real fucking chav. 
"Oh my god, you guys exist?"
She furrowed her dark over-filled brows as she smacked her nude-lipsticked lips on a piece of gum. There were other chavs behind her, all bleach blonde, overly tan and red ass cheeks. It was like your friend group, but in an alternate universe. 
"Wot?" she asked again, more confused than offended. 
"Listen girl, I don't know if you can tell - but I'm not from here. I need to get to from the UK to Scotland. How does a girl like me do that?"
"Babes? Yor in the UKay, loike, this is London?"
"Huh?" you asked, like Trisha Paytas in the car. 
"Babes," another chimed in, "the UKay is loike, mooltiple places poot into one? Loike, England, Scotland, Ireland, Wales -"
"Oh, so they're all like, the same?"
Their faces dropped with fear. 
"Babes, don't say that. I've just met you, but I'd definitely tell you loike, don't say that around other peepol," the main chav warned. 
"Especially the Irish, yeah," another said. "They'd be mentool."
"Oh, no worries here. I'm an ally to all," you assured, "so do you know where I can rest for the night?"
"Babes!" the chav said excitedly, "I've got family in Birmingham! It's up norf, already on the way for yor travels! I'll text me nana so you can stay there fo free!"
"Babes," you said, you're cheap frugal ass getting hyped, "you're such a babe! Thanks girlie!"
You ended up dropping some money to take an Underground from London to Birmingham, because you then really realized your Crocs could only momentarily take you so far. Also, tat withdrawal wasn't doing you any favors. Anyway you enjoyed the ride, drinking some complimentary tea with your headphones in and disassociating as you looked out the window into the cement walls. You started to regret not bringing some sort of sweater because who would've thought a baby tee and Nike shorts would be enough. Shit was chilly. 
You stepped off into the platform, feeling a strong GUST of wind rush past you. You first kinda enjoyed it like it was some sort of main character moment, but the moment that ghastly smell of smoke hit your nostrils - you went frozen like Mitch McConnell. 
"Jeeeeeesus CHRIST!" you bellowed, "who fucking farted?"
You looked around, but soon became even more confused. Everyone was giving you the hardest stares you've ever received in your lifetime. But it wasn't their stares, no, you've been stared at before for worst things, it was cause of their - fits. 
Everyone was dressed like some 1900s shit. It reminded you of the show Downton Abbey, the show your old boss Logan Roy used to binge. Little particles of what looked like dandruff floated around you and everything else just seemed gray. 
"Wait, are you guys filming?" you asked in your bimbo self, smiling, "did I just walk onto set?"
No one replied. They really thought you were insane. There you were - rough looking, mid-withdrawal, I <3 Surfer Boys, old high school Nike shorts, Crocs, Five Below socks, Dollar Store sunnies, Hello Kitty-themed suitcase and Juicy bag, Elf bar in one hand and your phone with dangling earbuds wrapped around it. They were petrified. 
You grew angry. You just stood there as they stood there too - both you and the Downton Abbey cosplayers were in a stand off.  
"Okay whatever," you said, rolling your eyes. "Stay hating!"
You whipped around and began walking down the pavement, calling, or as the English say "ringing", that chav's nana. However, it rang and rang, you dialed and dialed, the lady was not picking up. 
"Um, what the fuck?" you said looking down at your phone, "can this girl pick up?"
You continued to dial, your other hand to your waist like a Karen. You continued to look around as it rang, really impressed with the set. 
It had been very foggy, and the cobblestone roads led down between old brick buildings where people in their 1920's costumes walked along, smoking and dodging the occasional explosion from the coal-burning coming from inside the buildings. Horses were trotting, carrying hay and other shit. People were yelling in their crazy accents and the dandruff kept raining down. Pillars up in the sky let out dark clouds of smoke. That gross exhaust smell still lingered, and no matter how much Nicki Minaj body spray you put on yourself, there was no way to mask it. 
"Great. I'm homeless AGAIN!" you thought, giving up on that nana. "Whatever. I didn't even want a roof to sleep under anyway. C'est la vie honestly."
The stares did not cease. In fact, it got worse. You knew you were hot but like what the fuck can't a girl just walk and bitches mind their business?
Things were getting worse. The cobblestone ass road made it hard for you to pull your suitcase, so you were just essentially dragging it, you phone was on ten percent, you were hungry and thirsty because let's be real you did not eat much on that train, and honestly just over it. 
You passed all the workers, dodged some random explosions, evaded random running children, spit some of that dandruff out of your mouth. Safe to say, you were angry but needed to persevere!
Eventually it was nighttime. You couldn't really tell if it was night or if it was just the pollution in the air at first, but after asking a random man he assured you it was indeed nighttime. 
"I don't know how you guys live with all this dandruff," you told him, shaking your head. "You guys must be getting paid good as extras."
"Dandruff?" the man said, "that's ash, luv!"
"Thank god, that makes more sense. I was thinking I was gonna need to buy some Heads and Shoulders. I hate Heads and Shoulders."
He continued to look at you weird while he smoke his, what you were pretty sure in the span of you two talking, sixth cigarette. "Heads and shoulders? Fuck are they to do with your hair?"
"I know, horrible branding. I feel bad for the people in Pompeii. They probably thought it was like, a dandruff epidemic."
Eventually the man directed you to the Garrison, which was supposed to be this pub or whatever that all the locals hit up. You really just wanted a drink of water and like Taco Bell or something. Maybe a "Macky D's"? By the time you made it to the establishment, it was midnight, since you took forever cause you kept getting lost. 
It was situated in a weird spot, where several men would occasionally run out and throw up bad on the dirt floor. It sounded hella noisy and rough in there, which was something you were not looking forward to. But again, you're hungry. 
"I'm fucking starving," you thought to yourself as you pushed those heavy doors open, your suitcase getting caught in them. A surge of anger caused you to yank it past the swinging door, causing the it to slam against the wall and crack the glass. You got scared cause you didn't wanna pay for it, so you applied the "hear nothing, see nothing" tactic. It always worked <3
Nothing could've prepared you for when you entered. The energy was just not it. Heathrow vibes for sure. Hoards of drunk ass English men doing, well, things that drunk English men do. They were yelling, cursing, fighting, just being overall very annoying and overwhelming. It took you by surprise, you were just in awe that English were real. It was literally like a Call of Duty lobby but the English colonized it as they always do.  
"These motherfuckers are crazy bro," you thought to yourself, getting a seat at the bar. The bartender made his way to you, and after some hesitation on his end, he finally spoke. 
"Em, what can I get you, ma'am?" he asked, looking at you confused. 
"Y'all got a menu?" 
"I'm sorry?"
"Food, bro. I want food." You were not having it. 
"I'm sorry, I'm afraid there's just drinks here."
"Fine, fucking alcoholics," you said, holding in your hangriness, "what about water?"
"Huh," he thought, "no one ever asks for water. I forgot we served it!"
He turned around and as he began to pour some crusty water into a dusty glass, you felt a tap on your shoulder. But before you could even turn to ask what the fuck whoever wanted what, another big burly English drunk dude was all up in your face. 
"ELLO MISS! MIGHT I HAVE A CHANCE AT BUYIN' YA A DRINK?"
You were flabbergasted. Dude REEKED of some ale. 
"Uh, you stink," was all you could muster, pressing your fingers on your nose. 
His face fell into a very angry one. "YOU FOOCKIN' JEZEBEL!"
You weren't sure what 'jezebel' meant so you just rolled your eyes and turned back to the new glass of water placed in front of you by the bartender, and before he could walk off you downed the entire thing. He, too, like McConnell, was frozen at your abilities. 
"Sorry about that man, Miss," the bartender said as he poured you another. "You're very pretty. Must be getting used to it by now around here."
"Yeah, like, about that," you started, taking your time with the water this time because you didn't know how much they had left in this place, "why is everyone cosplaying? Like, people here are DEEP into their character, which, don't get me wrong - I respect. I used to be a theater major myself, so I get it. But this is like, crazy. I know the English love their theater, but god."
The bartender, with a hypothetical gun to his head, could not for the life of him understand what the fuck you meant. You kinda got that vibe when he didn't reply right away. He actually looked worried for your mental wellbeing. 
"Um, why did you just like, disassociate?" you asked. 
"I'm sorry, Miss," he chuckled nervously, "you've just confused me, is all."
"Yeah, all that alcohol is giving you that early onset dementia. Do you know where I can get food around here?"
"Hmm," he thought, "I don't really know, to be honest with ya. And it's quite late, so I'm not sure what's open."
You could cry. You hated being hungry and tired at the same time, added to literally everything else that was happening around you. You were able to tune out the drunken men yelling behind you, but only to a point - mama was close to blowing. 
"Oh my GOD," you started. "WHAT'S A GIRL TO DO TO GET SOME FUCKING FOOD AROUND HERE?!" you caught yourself. The bartender was growing more concerned. "I'm sorry," you cleared your voice, "it's just like, your queen for real sucked."
"Queen?" he asked. 
"Wow, you're really dedicated to the craft. Like I said, I respect." You continued to drink your water. 
"How'd you end up here in London, anyway?" he asked, leaning against the counter. You later found out his name was Harry, like Styles. 
"Oh, buddy," you said, "what a story I have for you."
You then began to blabber on about what brought you to this point, which helped because it made you forget about your current grievances. Soon, the entire pub went dead quiet, tuned in to your story time. You felt like Tana Mongeau, and these were your viewers. You get why the majority of YouTubers were lowkey conceited. (Not Tana though she's funny love you girl <3). It was like a big kindergarten story time. 
About half an hour later, you were mid-way through. 
"And so, when my boss literally fucking died, I was like, 'oh shit, I've like lost my job by like, proxy'? It was scary."
"How'd he pass?" one of the drunk men asked. 
"Dude, get this. He died getting his phone out of the toilet. Like, some Elvis shit," realizing they wouldn't get what you just said, you thought it best to move right on, "anyway, I was like, 'maybe this is a good time to move on, maybe America isn't the place for me.' I was also wanted by the Men in Black, too. They don't fuck around."
"Who's the Men in Black?" Harry asked. 
"The IRA were after ya?" another asked, in shock.
"I. R.S. It's not important. So, after he died, one of his kids had to be chosen to take over the company. Imagine like a Game of Thrones sort of thing. My on-and-off boyfriend, Kendall, is the oldest so you'd think it'd be him, right? Like, his name was underlined and everything. Or crossed out, you know, is the dress blue and black or white and gold? The day of, I snuck into the building for the board meeting. I wasn't supposed to be there, cause you know, I'm not a share holder or whatever, but I thought 'if I act like nothing happened, maybe technically I'm NOT fired cause my boss died, maybe nobody will say anything?' Confidence takes you a loooong way let me tell you! So at the board meeting, I voted Kendall, but his stupid home alone ass brother Roman was like 'oh YOU'RE still here?'. Then he told me to fuck off and that I should've died with Logan? Could you believe that?"
They were all in shock, muttering angry English curse words to each other. 
"And then I was like, 'no fuck you. What ever happened to democracy? I don't have a vote?'. But whatever, Kendall didn't win and he left the building. No, Horton Hears a Who Tom won, and while everybody was celebrating I was like, 'guys? GUYS! ALL EYES ON WINDOWS! WHERE DID KENDALL GO? All eyes on windows!'. Then I got like, kicked out or whatever. I kept spamming Kendall, texting him and calling him and nothing. Like 'Kenny, wya???'. He was ghosting me. Then I saw right after he put his phone on Do Not Disturb. Targeted, really. I saw his location at Central Park, facing the water, and this had me WORRIED. Kendall and bodies of water? Yeah they don't mix well. I needed to talk to him before he jumped! But when I got there, his new dumbass body guard was like, 'Can you leave? He's not seeing anyone'. I kept calling him, and he wouldn't turn to look at me. He was like, mega dissociating watching that horizon."
"Must've killed him that he's no longer the number one boy," a drunken English man said, somber. 
"Def," you said.
"So you and Kendall?" another asked.
"No more. He never picked up, so I thought we were done," the men in the bar were devastated. "Yeah, really sad. I already mourned, though. So, yeah, I was like, 'what do I do now?' Logan gave me some money, so I can really just do anything? I was walking down the streets of New York and saw a random man in a suit I thought was the IRS, and it hit me - I'm lowkey a fugitive? I need to like, leave. Logan isn't there to protect me anymore, you know? And then it hit me - I'll go to Scotland! In Logan's honor! Like, his hometown. Plus, I thought Scotland didn't have extradition, but it was actually Venezuela. But it's okay, same shit. And that's why I'm here."
"But this is Birmingham?" another man said. 
"Oh, yeah, don't worry I fully aware. But yeah, that's it."
Again, the pub had been silent. They'd been intrigued, captivated. You waited for someone to speak up and break the silence, but about two minutes later you realized that wasn't gonna happen. 
"Okay? Anyway, so nothing to eat here?" you asked Harry. 
He shook his head, stunned. You then slowly crept off the chair, gathered your shit and saw your way out. "Weirdos," you thought. 
You exited back out, it was now fully dark with few lampposts shining light onto the falling dandruff. It all reminded you of exactly where you were - stuck. 
You slumped against the wall, onto the ground where you didn't see any of the mud that splashed all over your shorts. You were too tired and over it to give a fuck. You pulled out your phone, and saw the battery on 2%. 
"Man FUCK!" you exclaimed, "I know damn well none of these Lin Manuel Miranda stans built an electric socket." 
You went on to scroll mindlessly through your feed, which barely loaded because of the lack of signal. You were in the middle of spamming the refresh button until you received a notification from Snapchat that read, "One Year Ago Today". You clicked it open, forgetting you still had that app downloaded, and its contents nearly pushed you over the edge to start balling. 
You clicked play. 
"Oh, don't be a pussy, Greggguh!"
"Mumusdsfjks," Greg said, shoving more marshmallows into his mouth, "Chubb Bunif."
"Sorry, buddy, couldn't hear you!" Tom said, giddy, shoving his own marshmallow down Greg's mouth.
"You got it Greg!" you heard yourself say. 
You wanted to cry. You wished you could just go back to Waystar in that moment, playing the Chubby Bunny challenge with gay lovers Tom and Greg. 
"Man, I miss them," you thought. But alas, that was all gone now...
You quickly closed the video, going to your bank app to see how much money remained. After all, Logan DID leave you with enough, but you couldn't help yourself on those McDonald's breakfast orders through Uber Eats.  
Your tears quickly evaporated like they were put through the snap of Thanos when you got a glance of your credit score though. Oh no. 
"OH MY GOD?!??! MY CREDIT IS AT 400????!!? I'M LIKE, FUCKED?!???!"
"What's a credit score?"
You nearly shit yourself at the deep, sullen voice. You looked up and let's just say - you were intimidated. It's the terrorist dude from Red Eye. He wore a flat cap and a tweed little suit type of fit. 
But it wasn't the tweed that had you transfixed - no, it was those eyes....they were familiar. The last time you felt power of being in a trance like that were those Furbies... it forced you to look at them, you had lost all ability of self-control. They made you question yourself, your purpose and whole life being. They were commanding you with their uncanny valley vibe. Their immense gravity caused all time to slow...
"Dude, put those away!" you yelled, forcing your eyes shut and looking away. 
He didn't reply. 
"I'm sorry," you giggled, realizing he wasn't gonna reply to you and instead just stood there. "I'm just really hungry. You got anything?"
He thought for a moment. "Actually...we don't eat." He had a little sassy, matter-of-factly tone of speaking you fucked with heavily. 
"Yeah, that's why your official dish is tikka masala," a glance of that dish popped into your head. "Man I could fuck that up right now."
"I can take you to my office, I might have something there," he said. You agreed right after, anything would have to do. Little did you know, this would be the man who would save you. Not in a self-fulfilling sense but he'd grab you something to eat. 
You two made it to his office, some ways away. It was just a big ass dark room with tables in the middle, which you would later find out the betting on his horse racing took place. 
You sat down and he took off his coat and goofy ass hat, then went to the back for a moment. You looked around, you felt like you were in a dungeon. You looked down to your phone - shit was dead. 
He came back moments later, with a single loaf of bread he placed in front of you. He then took a seat across from you, took out a cigarette and did what the English do best, smoke. 
You were a bit taken aback, and it definitely showed, since his little sassy face got more sassier. 
"Well?" he bellowed, motioning to the food.
"Honestly," you started, not wanting to offend cause he did scare you (in a hot way), "I don't know what more I was expecting. I know Panera bread when I see it."
You began to eat, he just watched you. You would be annoyed had this been anyone else, but man was too fine. 
Some minutes went by, and he just smoked while you ate. He was definitely a man of few words. 
"You're so mysterious," you said. "Is that your character?"
He took in a big puff and put his feet up on the table like he owned the place, cause he literally did. "You don't belong here."
"Yeah, no fucking shit. I'm supposed to be in Scotland."
"What's in Scotland?" he asked, tapping his cigarette into an empty whiskey glass. 
"Bagpipes, I've heard."
He then leaned to the side, grabbing his cigarette case out and offering you one. You declined. 
"It's okay, I don't like cigarettes. They're gross," you went inside your bag and pulled out your crusty geriatric Elf Bar that was on life support, "here, try this! She's my sidekick!"
He stared at it, not a thought behind those eyes. He then rose up. 
"What about a whiskey, eh?" He went to a table against the wall and poured two glasses. You shrugged at his decline of your Elf Bar, and took some shitty hits cause girl it's dead give it up. 
As he had his back to you pouring the glasses, you really thought about how manly he was, in a way all those Ryan Gosling Drive stans love. He reminded you of those mafia boss fanfics you used to read. The way he spoke was so low and serious, but it made your feet rock like crazy!
He turned back around and placed your glass in front of you. Before he sat, he took a swing of his and literally drank it all in one shot like an animal. Wanting to impress him, you did the same, but soon regretted it right after. You'd tried whiskey before, but that was just not good. It was so strong it burned your esophagus, causing you to feel like you had strep throat all over again. You nearly gagged and threw it up but you couldn't let Tommy see you that way. He was staring. 
"Jesus Christ," you said in a raspy, chain smoker voice, trying to smile through the pain, "that's some real shit right there. I'd much prefer a BuzzBall."
"What brings you to the UK?" he asked again, a little more interrogating. 
"Fine. I'm avoiding parole."
"Parole?"
"Have you ever been on parole?" you asked. 
He took a moment, your question hit hard. "Ever since men like me got back from France, we've always felt we were on parole under the king." He had a sadness to it, which then made you kinda sad. 
"Aww, you're a parole baby <3."
He rose his brows in a "yeah this girl off it" way. 
"Does France give you bad memories?" you asked, wanting to know both out of being a nosy bitch and seeing if you could break him. 
"Most nights," he said. 
"Don't worry, me too."
"You served?"
"I might has well have," you replied, thinking of that past life living with your old boyfriend. 
"I wasn't aware women served."
"We always do," you assured. You kept looking into his eyes like it was a staring contest. 
"What's it you're looking at?"
"You have a very, no-nonsense cunty face. Like BBL," you first smiled telling him that, but it then reminded you of when you told your old boyfriend Kendall the same thing. The thought of him made you sad, you wondered where your number one boy was now...
You didn't realize but Tommy noticed your change in demeanor, initially believing you were thinking about your time during the war in France. He rose and grabbed another drink, placing one in front of you as he killed his in less than a second. 
You snapped out of your sadness. "Oh, no thanks. I don't think I can have anymore. This trip will definitely be very detoxing for me."
You two then sat in comfortable silence for some time, as if you two were both mourning after the innocence lost before France. You were something different for him, a new comfort he couldn't find much else in that polluted ass city. And you found comfort in him, he really did seem like he needed fixing. But that's not what you do, no no, he's a grown ass man and can fix himself. You'll just watch from the sidelines <3. 
Eventually, you stayed in Birmingham. Once you were aware that your money had no value in the UK, you realized you needed to be employed again to save up for Scotland. Dollars, turns out, did not equal shillings and pounds or whatever. Tommy hooked you up after finding out your situation and generously gave you a job at the Garrison as a barmaid, along with Harry, who in time, became your BFF. It wasn't that hard of a job, these men never mixed any drinks and would instead have their alcohol straight like a bunch of monsters, so you kinda ate at this job. Another perk was that these 1920s bitches loved thin eyebrows, so your Y2K overplucked eyebrows fit right in! Full circle shit!
But perhaps the best perk was when Tommy would come in every so often and give you a little LOOK. Oh that shit made you rabid yes it did! It made you all hot down there and you couldn't handle it! You two barely spoke, as he would go into the side room for meetings and whatever mumbo jumbo he got up to with his brothers, but when you did you did your best to bring out that old femme fatale. You knew damn well he'd fuck that shit up. And let's be real so did you. 
You knew that you had Tommy in your CLUTCH when he was once lecturing you - basically there was talk about some Billy Kimber dude amongst him and his brothers and the members of the gang, but you couldn't get past how fun it was to say the man's name, especially in their wild ass accent. You kept incessantly shouting it, to what you thought was a joke, "BILLY FACKIN KIMBA" in every possible moment you could, but it would send all the men into a paranoid shock thinking Billy boy was just around the corner. Obviously, he wasn't, in fact you couldn't point out who Billy Kimber was in a crowd of English, but let's just say - it sent them for a sheer panic. They would constantly tell Tommy to get you to stop, since it was bringing back war trauma basically and never felt fear like that since the war. You personally thought they were being a bunch of pussies but whatevs. 
Anyway Tommy found you at the bar after closing and wanted to have a serious talk with you - no more random BILLY FACKIN KIMBA. As he was lecturing you on the dangers of it, you actually started to disassociate in those eyes of his. You then started to think, 
"What if I just grabbed his hat?"
Those intrusive thoughts grew stronger and stronger as the moments flew by and the more his voice became a bunch of muffled nothing. And they won. 
"GOTCHA HAT!" you spat before taking his flat cap off and running with it, jumping over the bar on some parkour shit and pushing those doors open onto the grimy streets of Birmingham, in an excited manic.  You ran for nothing, since you didn't notice in the adrenaline of it all he didn't move an inch and instead just stood at the bar, stumped. From that point on, he knew you weren't like other girls. Cause let's be real who in their right fucking mind would do that to Tommy Shelby? You did girl xoxo <3
But when your image with Tommy REALLY hit home for the guy, it was one night. One very special night...
You were working the night shift at the Garrison, again. It was another rainy day in London Town, and you were all alone cleaning up. You started to think about Gabbie Hanna, and how low key right she was. You continued to rap to yourself, 
"♪ Overwhelmed, overworked, overpaid. I'm on top of the world sitting pretty ♪ -" 
The doors flew open, causing you to jump pretty high up. You looked to the entrance, it was Tommy. And man was drenched and tired looking, your fave combo. 
He walked over, behind the bar and poured himself a glass of whiskey. He was always a little emo and to himself, but something about him now was really depressing, like man's definitely going through it.
He then took a seat at a table, and looked at you with dead eyes. 
"What's with the frown?" you asked, trying to lighten up the mood but was severely unsuccessful. (Unbeknownst to you he literally just had to put down a horse he thought was cursed :/ it's a canon event!)
He didn't reply. Surprise surprise instead he just drank his whiskey done. You chewed your gum, clueless. 
You just continued to clean, continuing Gabbie's rhyme in your head. 
"♪ Overwhelmed, overwork, underpaid ♪ -"
"Can you sing?"
You turned around again. He fr sounded sad asf. It shocked you, cause did he like, read your mind or sum? 
"Uh, yeah. You want me to sing?"
"Every barmaid knows how to sing."
"Okay, sure. Like acapella?"
He just stared at you, lost again with your mumbo jumbo. 
"Well, I know Lana, I know Nicki, my ex had a song L to the OG-"
"Lana. She sounds nice."
You nodded. "She really is, I love her. Okay, I think I know a song."
"Stand up there," he pointed to a table. You were a bit hesitant, the last time you did that you ate shit like that one girl on YouTube who was also singing on a table and ate shit. But it was for Tommy so you did so anyway. 
You climbed up, took out your gum, flicked it in a bucket, cleared your throat, moved your hair out of your face, and fixed your posture - this was your Pose moment tonight, and Tommy's Billy Porter. 
You then started to sing White Mustang by Lana, but the moment you got to the chorus, which was, well, White Mustang, he told you to stop. 
"Something else, please," he asked demanding yet softly.
"What? Too close to home? Don't worry, Lana does that," you assured, "here, I'll sing a song that hits close to me, it's called How to disappear, it's what do when I'm trying to run from the IRS."
You cleared your throat again and started to sing and girl you ATE THAT SHIT!!!!!
You hit those fucking notes, you were lost in your little own world envisioning yourself in a music video. You understood why America's Got Talent contestants were nervous, cause the pressure? Yeah it's real. And not only is Tommy Billy Porter, he's also Simon Cowell - a yes from that Brit would secure your spot.
Speaking OF Tommy, because momentarily you forgot he was there with you - the man was enthralled, ENCHANTED. He sat silently, the rainwater dripping down his face, as he was taking in every small gesture you made, taking in every musical note that came out of your BBL mouth, (even the voice cracks), and just taking, well, you in. At that very moment, he was in love. YOU were the femme fatale he needed in his life, the one that would complete him, make him feel whole, and would give him purpose. 
Once you were finished, you snapped back into reality and realized you actually weren't in a music video. You looked to Tommy, whose face barely made any other emote other than the one where he looked like he was annoyed, staring up at you. A wave of anxiety flooded over you - you were the center of his world right now, and that pressure was too hot!
You quickly climbed down, and flashed him a big smile. 
"So?" you asked, now LITERALLY feeling more grounded on the ground. 
He didn't respond at first. Moments later, he did. 
"Do you have something nice to wear?"
"Like what?"
"A dress?"
"Um," you thought, trying to remember the contents of your Hello Kitty-themed suitcase, "maybe. Why?"
He rose up, getting ready to leave from the fear and insecurity of the emotions he just experienced. "I want to take you to the races."
"We're gonna race?"
"Horses. Horse races," he corrected you, making his way to the exit. "Be ready by tomorrow, I'll collect you before noon."
"Oh my god, like a date?" you were too slow to come to the conclusion because by that time he'd already left. The excitement quickly mixed in with the anxiety, which wasn't the best feeling in the world. You knew in anticipation for tomorrow you were gonna need SOMETHING to take the edge off, so before closing up you snatched some bottles of alcohol to take to your flat. You weren't really sure what exactly they were, but what you did know was that it was gonna taste like fucking ass. But when mama needs her go go juice, she TAKES her go go juice.
The following morning you woke up at the crack ass of dawn to get ready - you knew you needed TIME. Not that it takes a while for you to get all pretty, girl you're already naturally stunning! but time and place - you needed to stunt today. Also, you already weren't a morning person so you didn't trust yourself to snooze. Actually, you barely slept at all last night since you were too caught up about what makeup you were gonna do, how you were gonna style your hair, what dress to wear and most of all, your ass was just asked out by Tommy. You wondered if this is how nervy the soldiers felt when they encountered bin Laden's bunker. 
You had already finished your makeup and hair, looking pretty snatched. Too bad your phone's been dead for the past couple of weeks and you couldn't take pictures. But anyway you did the usual 1920's makeup tutorial you remember watching on some Buzzfeed video a while ago, pretending you were doing a Vogue makeup tutorial in your mirror and talking step by step your process. You curled your hair into the 1920's bob they were obsessed with back then, packing on an obscene amount of gel just to keep that wave stiff. You struggled but nonetheless you got it girl. 
You were now staring at the remaining contents of your Hello Kitty-themed suitcase - let's just say, you had nothing. That's a lie you did have SOMETHING but was it appropriate for the time? No. Like if you're going to the Renaissance Fair, your ass isn't gonna wear some Skims ass dress. But guess what? That's actually all you had. 
It was a black, tight, spaghetti-strap slip-on dress that was above the knee - definitely NOT the vibe for the era, maybe a bit too revealing? But what other choice do you have? You're I <3 Surfer Boys tee? Exaaaaactly. 
You slipped it on and was taken aback - you know how you forget how good you look when it's been a while since you've dressed up and you actually surprise yourself? Yeah that was you right now. Kim would be proud to see you in that dress, in fact, she'd probably cheer you on to wear it proudly at the races. Even though she wasn't your favorite sister, you imagining her company right now really did help.  
You kept feeling yourself in the mirror - girl you looked GOOD. You put on some black heels, some perfume and that was it - you were simply that bitch now. 
"Oh my god," you thought to yourself, "Tommy's gonna flip. Shit, I'd get with me."
And just like that, you heard the honks of a car coming from outside your flat. You peered through the window, and there you saw some vintage, rinky dink ass car. 
"Oh, fuck!" you shouted, mainly to yourself, but they heard. "Coming!" you called out the window. 
It was actually happening - oh fuck he's here oh yes he is. Quickly, you grabbed one of the bottles you confiscated and took the fattest swig. It was the most horrendous, grotesque warm vodka you've ever consumed. But it would have to do.
You quickly made it downstairs, taking a moment before appearing outside to calm yourself down and make it seem as if you effortlessly just went down some stairs without a care or worry in the world. You made sure to grab a fur coat, faux of course, and your keys. 
Down by the car was Tommy in the driver's seat, with his two brothers, Arthur and John, seated in the back. They all looked at you in awe - they had never seen so much of a woman's legs in their entire life. 
"Bloody foockin' hell, Tommy! What do we have here?!" Arthur exclaimed. 
"Jesus, Tommy," said John, "I didn't think it was bloody possible for you!"
Tommy stared at you for a few seconds longer, a bit taken aback himself. 
Tommy ignored his brothers and exited his side, helping you into the passenger's. You got a whiff of his cologne that brought out an animalistic, innate horndogness of you that you remembered to keep in check. Now was not the time but it was admittedly hard cause the man just looked so good. 
He climbed back into his side, then started driving off, the cobblestone road causing you to feel even more nauseous than you already did. You didn't realize it, but you were mute for the first ten minutes from how disassociated you were. That vodka was hitting deep and swimming in circles in your empty tummy - you hadn't had breakfast, essentially raw dogging and running on nothing, because you knew if you munched on some Panera bread, you would've thrown it up from the nervousness. You were now really accepting the fact that it was a grave mistake. 
"Well, what's wrong with her?" Arthur bellowed, "is her bloody tongue cut off?"
Tommy gave you a quick little side eye, then fully turned to you after realizing you were, indeed, gone. 
"Are you alright?" he asked, concerned with a TOUCH of attitude. Or maybe they were both the same you couldn't differentiate it when it came to Tommy. 
"Uh, yeah," you cleared your throat and sat up straight, "just really taking in the moment, you know? It's my first race."
Tommy turned back to the road. 
"You guys look great!" you complimented, wanting to move on. 
"Why thank you, Miss Y/N. I shall wear your kind words like a medal from tha war," said Arthur. "You look like one of them silent film stars!"
You blushed. "So, wanna listen to some music?" you suggested, hating sitting in quiet cars.
Tommy scrunched his brows. "What do you mean?"
You looked down to where the touchscreen on the car WOULD be, forgetting this car was quite literally just a box on wheels with an engine attached. AUX and Bluetooth are not in the vocabulary of these people's brains for another couple more decades. 
"Like, carpool karaoke," you suggested. 
"What?" John asked. 
"Bloody hell is that?" Arthur also asked. You also forgot, these English men wouldn't face the atrocity that is James Corden in ALSO a couple more decades. 
Tommy scoffed, a small little smile on his face but nonetheless a smile. He gets it. "Singing. She likes to sing."
"Is that right?" smiled Arthur, "wow, you've really done a number on Tommy boy over here! He's now a fan of the musical arts!"
The two brothers began laughing and smacking Tommy on the shoulders and head in a playful, men-in-a-gang, manner. He smirked. 
"I'll start, I have the perfect song - this one's called Off To The Races," you turned to Tommy, "also by Lana."
You two smiled at the little inside joke y'all had going on now. You then started singing, really into it like the night before. You were hitting those "scarlet, starlet" notes a little too good. Once you wrapped up, you left the three men in a silence that lasted for a couple minutes. Except Tommy, he was always silent. But his brothers were a little confused, but decided to just roll with it since you made Tommy happy. You thought they were just floored by your abilities. 
"Lovely," John finally said, hesitant and low to break the silence.  
"You've got yourself a bloody mental one here, Tommy," said Arthur. Tommy smiled, you were indeed a little unwell but it was okay to him. So was he <3
It had been about an hour after your arrival, you had been helping yourself to a shit ton of food by a table, stocking up like a bear ready for hibernation. You were literally the only one there, and you assumed so because the cigarettes and alcohol these Brits were fucking up were acting as appetite suppressants. Your fat ass wasn't complaining. 
Besides being the only one actually eating something of nutritional value, you were getting HEAVY looks and side eyes for your outfit. You didn't care, your ass looked good from all the walking around the pub you've been doing. Upon entering, Tommy noticed the looks to. You whispered in his ear, "it's cause none of these interbred Habsburg jaws know what a real woman a real BITCH looks like 💅." 
He didn't get exactly what you meant, but got the vibe and he liked it. He, actually, loved that you were the center of attention here, as you SHOULD be. Afterwards, he told you he had some business to attend to and knowing you were hungry, led you to the food table. He said he'd get you after he was done, and man was taking his time. But again you didn't care you were just munching away. 
"Try the scone, darling, it's absolutely dashing!" a rich, socialite said to you. Her costume was just as amazing as everyone else. 
"You know, I've been avoiding it but, maybe I will. Why not?" you smiled, grabbing one and taking a chomp. It tasted like actual ass but you have a great poker face. You moaned like Mark Weins, even hitting his crazy facial expressions. "It's great!" you mumbled. She smiled and talked on about something you didn't really pay attention to. 
Eventually, Tommy came up behind you and grabbed your arm gently. Had this been any other man, you would've pistol whipped them in the face with the rock of a scone in your hand, but it was Tommy so you just got all the butterflies inside. You turned and smiled, chewing your food and swallowing it almost hole to say something and not just stand there. 
"Fhey Tomyif," you mumbled through the dry scone. 
"Feeling better, eh?" he said in a low tone. He seem a little more cheery, which made you cheery. He was enjoying himself, as he should. And so were you, as you should. Let's just say, the vibes were good. 
"Omg, def," you said, finally swallowing the last bit of food, "you know, you should try eating something. I know you don't do it much, but, I feel like it can be a great experience for you."
He looked into your eyes. He loved that you cared. A soft smile came on his lips. 
"Not hungry."
You thought for a minute. "But like, I'm pretty sure you haven't eaten since France."
"Maybe later. Do you dance?"
"Do I dance? With a little spicy marg in me, Tommy, it's over." But alas, the bartender would have no clue what a spicy marg was, so you kinda had to retract your statement, "But no yeah I can dance sober too no biggy."
"Good," he said, grabbing your hand gently and leading you to the crowded dance floor. You turned back to wave at the socialite lady, who gave you a little wink. My girl knew you scored. 
All you knew was that the Brits LOVED their Charleston dancing, something that you definitely needed Just Dance to teach you. But she wasn't here. You were frightened at the thought, but when Tommy pulled you in, and you two just started going at it, it was as natural as your BBL ass. That one Pride and Prejudice dancing sequence had you mastered in the art. 
With his hand at your waist and the other in your hand, and your other hand around his neck feeling his buzzcut, there was no force on this earth that could stop you. You honestly just moved your legs around and were great. 
Up close to him, you were again in touch with his cologne. You needed to control yourself, but it didn't help that he was like three inches from your face. In this sea of people, it just felt like you two and no one else. 
As you two were fucking up that dance floor to that 1920s jazz music, you looked around at the other faces of people dancing around you. Some you caught staring, others pretended not to. You smiled at the fact your hot ass was intimidating. 
"Man, if I were to do the Woah here, they'd all lose their fucking minds," you thought. "What if I like, just started twerking? No, I can't. I can't let them win."  You knew those intrusive thoughts cannot get another W against you again. The last time that happened, you were expelled from theater school. You couldn't, you couldn't embarrass Tommy - but the urge was too strong. 
Almost as if Tommy read your mind, he pulled you aside the dance floor. 
"I want to introduce you to someone," he said. He then took you to a table where a man with the craziest middle part and mustache sat, beside another who looked like an owl with glasses and other carbon copies of English dudes. At the table was a fuck ton of coins and money, along with drinks and clouds of cigarette smoke from ashtrays. 
"Y/N, this is Billy Kimber. He owns the tracks here," Tommy said. Oh my god it's him, its Billy fackin Kimba...
You weren't sure why Tommy would introduce you, but you took it as a compliment. Maybe he just wanted to stunt on this guy? Who knows. 
The man with the goofy ass fucking name had a wry grin on his face that you did not like at all. The vibe was not good no more around this guy. He stuck out his hand to you, and you obliged very hesitantly. He grabbed your hand and kissed it. With that a wave of disgust flew over you, feeling as though you've been stained. Ew gross. 
"Lovely ta meet ya," the man said. He rose, "Mista Shelby, might I ask your lady for a dance?" 
"Oh, no thanks! <3" you said, a welcoming smile on your face. Tommy and Billy both looked at you as if you just said the most out of pocket shit. The owl man and English robots also gave you daring looks.
"Wot?" Kimber spat. 
You almost laughed. 
"Uh, yeah like, I don't wanna dance." you said, mimicking Tana Mongeau's "a bleach and tone".
Billy saw absolute red. He was livid. He turned to Tommy, who, too, was speechless. 
"The fuck are you on about?" Billy spat again. You really weren't sure what he didn't understand.  
You then realized - there was no getting out of this. You didn't want to cause a scene, cause you kinda already did. So you again invited those intrusive thoughts. 
"Fine," you said, clearing your throat and standing straight. "I'll dance."
You then pretended to throw something in the air, looking up in an anticipatory, worried way. They all looked up too, confused. 
"Oh my god, do you see it? Mr. Kimber, where is it?!" you said as if a bomb were to fall. 
He looked up and then to you, growing increasingly worried. He was too in shock to speak. 
"Where is it?! Where is it?! Do you see it?!" you kept looking up at basically nothing, but you knew it was something. You kept them on their toes, scared at this point. Your feet dancing softly, they were ready for impact. It was time to come down. "There! There it is and -"
With that, you pulled it down and committed the hardest, most nastiest Woah you've ever done. The last time it was that riveting was during middle school lunches. 
When you brought that down, the pose you ended on had your head down and body limp, as if you were Aang in the Avatar state during the episode where he was fighting Zuko's papa and had to unlock and harness such force.
You left them taken aback, disoriented. They didn't know what to do or how to react. You looked fucking insane. 
You took a deep breath and stood back up straight, satisfied. Once you realized that the room had fallen completely silent, even the musicians, you felt you needed to excuse yourself. 
"Um, so," you struggled to find the words. You felt the anxiety creeping up again, the lightheadedness arising. And most of all, it was time for you to empty yourself. "I've, uh," you thought harder and harder - "I'VE GOT AN ITCHY BUM!"
You split, running and running as fast as your pumps could take you. You ran and ran, it was always the most liberating activity honestly. All that dancing with Tommy, the nerves piled up along with the hors d'oeuvres - they lead to this very moment. 
You searched round and round, desperately for a bathroom. No where in this bitch was there a sign or indication, and time was running slim. This was some real Mission Impossible, Tom Cruise is on a time crunch, shit. You pushed through crowds of drunk, belligerent and yelling people, feeling your body slowly succumb to the intense body heat. 
Eventually, you spotted a familiar face. You ran. 
"Arthur!" you yelled. He spun and looked back to you. 
"Y/N! What is it?" he asked, worried. You looked a bit wild. "Are you alright? Where's Tommy?"
"He's fine, he's," you thought, "somewhere. Look, it doesn't fucking matter."
"The mouth on you -"
"Where the fuck is the bathroom in this bitch? Huh? The loo? The toilet? The washroom whatever the fuck y'all call it?"
"Well, I was on me way. It's just over there -" he pointed and you bolted. 
As you were entering, you literally ran full force into the socialite from earlier. She wasn't angry, just like Arthur, worried. 
"You look absolutely GHASTLY darling!"
"Girl move -"
You went into one of the stalls and laid your worst. Thankfully since it was a Skims dress, all you had to do was pull your Victoria Secret thong off and go. You felt bad for the ladies in their dresses and stockings and shit here - convenience was definitely not a factor yet. 
After you cleared your business, (and subsequently the whole bathroom), you stepped out of your stall, refreshed and effortless. You washed your hands, fixed your hair and makeup just a bit in the mirror, and felt yourself again. You took mental selfies, since it was all you had. 
As you left the bathroom, you heard the grunts and yells of men. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence, but it sounded like some shit was fr going down. You crept to the source of the noise, coming from the men's bathroom. At first, you thought someone was probably constipated, but instead it was Arthur, John and a few others absolutely rocking this guy's shit. They were beating him, cutting him with the razors sewn into their goofy caps, and curb stomping his head into the sink. So sink stomping? 
You made a gross face and walked back out. "Yeesh."
After all, it wasn't the first time you were so close to the mob.
 You remember your number one golden rule you learned from earlier during your time with Pablo: Hear nothing, see nothing!
After walking past the dance floor again, you were relieved to see that everyone and everything had gone back to normal - people were back to dancing, drinking and chatting - back to the script. You actually forgot this was supposed to be a horse race. 
But, there was no Tommy anywhere. You searched and searched, yet you couldn't find that 75% shaved head anywhere. 
You then walked back outside by the entrance, where you saw a woman smoking. You went up to her. 
"May I bum a smoke?" you asked in your best English accent, trying to speak their language. She turned to you and pulled one out, lighting it for you. "Thank you so much, you look lovely, darling."
The woman smiled. You loved hyping the girls up!
"You too. I must admit, I find your choice in wardrobe absolutely admirable and daring!"
You smiled, "Aww, really?" you quickly corrected your accent, "Oh dear, many thanks, many thanks yes."
You took a hit of that cigarette. Shit was gross. But when in Rome...
You and the woman spoke for some time, deep in conversation. It was refreshing to meet another girl here, safe to just talk shit and have a break from all the drunken men and oh no there's Tommy. 
You saw him approaching you and he looked again, upset and emo. It didn't exactly burst your bubble, you really liked Tommy, but were afraid that you possibly embarrassed him in front of the Bilbo Timberland from earlier. 
You bided the woman goodbye and walked towards Tommy. He then took you two back to his car and started off onto the road. By now, it was nearing evening. The car ride was pretty silent, you were looking out admiring the brief countryside. Shit was beautiful like a Microsoft Home Screen. 
"So, what's wrong?" you asked. "You're like, down in the dumps again. And where are your brothers?"
"They'll find their own way home," Tommy said, low and serious, the usual. 
"So is that it? Y'all got into a fight or something?"
He let out a deep breath. "I told Billy Kimber he could have a dance with you."
"Ew, why?"
"Well," he didn't want to say 'business', cause like okayyyyy shout out to 1920's gender roles!, "because you look...nice. You look pretty."
You blushed hard, trying to control your smile. Seeing this side of Tommy was like a sneak peak, it was so exclusive!
"Oh my god, Tommy, are you flirting with me? I didn't even know you had that setting available!"
He smirked, his frown OFFICIALLY being turned upside down. He chucked in disbelief of himself. He was falling. 
Once you made it back to the neighborhood, the sun had gone down and the streets were once again pretty dark. Smoky depressing England like what the Smiths wrote about you get the vibe. 
Anyway he took you to his flat, saying that he wanted to "show you something". You weren't sure what that something was, it could've honestly been like a dead body but actually it wasn't! It was dinner <3
"I've uh," he started, not crazy about the fact that he was falling for you, "I've prepared dinner."
You gasped and made a very soy ass face. How absolutely gentlemanly of him!
"Oh my god, no you didn't Tommy!" you said, "You're so sweet, that's like, so sweet! You shouldn't have!"
He smiled softly, in a "yeah I did that" sort of way. And he did just that. You were 90% sure whatever was inside he didn't cook, but it's the THOUGHT that counts!
He escorted you inside like the gentlemen he was, shutting the front door behind you two. The lights inside the flat were dim, and by the table were two plates. Upon closer inspection, you were absolutely FLOORED!!!!
"No way - tikka fucking masala?!" you exclaimed. He chuckled and it was hot. 
You walked closer and saw two very familiar, VERY FAMILIAR, colorful orbs. You turned them to the side. All this time since you'd last seen one, you forgot what they were or looked like. 
"AND FUCKING BUZZBALLS?!?!?!" you said. "Tommy, how the fuck did you even get these?"
He pulled the chair out for you, and you scooted your big fat butt in. 
"I know people. It's my job."
You couldn't help but smirk.
"It's so hot when a man has connections," your dirty Jezebel mind thought. 
He cracked the BuzzBalls opened and poured them for each of you, like it was some high end expensive ass champagne. You watched him, relishing in the moment - you had your GRIP on this man. Chivalry was in fact, despite popular belief, not dead. But it was also the 1920s so you forgot about that bit. 
You looked down at your plate - you were going to fuck. this. up. He'd never seen this side of you - the side that would tear your meal like a fucking ape cracking open a coconut with a rock for water. You thought if you should warn him, but told yourself - he needs to know ME for ME. 
You gripped that naan, grabbed a fat ass chunk of that chicken - and the moment it hit your lips, you had started giggling like Mark Weins again but subtract the poker face. You had forgotten the long lost love of spice other than pepper and salt. You could've cried if it hadn't been for the fact your makeup looked too good. 
You two dined and wined (there's no wine) for the next hour, talking and talking and chewing and chewing. Seeing him eat was hard for your mind to process, you just never thought he was capable of it. Anyway as he was talking you felt bad because you were zoning out looking at him as if he was another dish of tikka masala. He had such a sigma vibe to him, maybe alpha? (I don't know I'm not familiar with gym bro brain rot TikTok lingo but you get the vibe.) He was just so manly and yet so gentle and calculating, it kinda scared you because like he could literally have everything set up to kill you right now and you wouldn't know cause you were too charmed. But then you realized, he wouldn't have done all this shit for someone he wanted dead. No girl, he just wanted YOU! Your toes tickled at the thought, and those butterflies? They were fluttering. 
For the first time, you had anxiety but hadn't felt the need to shit yet. You weren't sure if it was the alcohol calming your nerves, or the chill vintage ambience going on, or Tommy's comfortable/intimidating presence. In other words, this felt natural and you were fucking with it. 
There were several times you needed to burp, but forgetting you weren't with your girls, you had to swallow that shit deep. After all, girls don't burp. You tried to keep your femme fatale composure. 
You were the light he needed in his very dark emo life. It had been a very long time since he had a genuine laugh, despite the fact he might have had no idea what the fuck you were talking about or saying half the time, but seeing you all bubbly and happy made him feel content. He was finally being vulnerable, letting go a little and just, well, living life. Being free. #livelaughlove
"What will you do? When you've saved enough for Scotland?" he asked. 
The idea brought you down a bit. You forgot about that shit. "Oh, well, I don't know. I kinda like the barmaid stuff, so maybe I'll try to find something similar there?"
You were eating his leftovers. He didn't eat much but liked watching you eat like it was a mukbang. He loved a girl who eats. 
"Why don't you stay?" he asked, avoiding eye contact with you as he poured himself another BuzzBall. You could tell he wasn't a fan but drank it anyway for you because you liked it. 
You again couldn't help but smirk. You loved seeing a guy CRACK!!!
"Do you want me to?" you asked, biting your tongue like the white mom. You hadn't done that in a while either, this English life didn't permit it. 
He took a sip from his drink. "Perhaps you'd be interested in working for me."
"Aren't I already, low-key though?"
"Garrison's not mine," he said. "Do you know anything about bookkeeping?"
He lit a cigarette and offered you one. You took it, not wanting to offend. 
"Well, I gotta tell you," you said, "math is NOT my forte. But oh my god yes babe thanks!"
You ran over and jumped to hug him, he hugged tightly back, he then threw you on the hard table, pushing everything to the floor and you felt his member pressed against your leg. He began kissing you, his tongue licking your lips for entrance. You let him in. Your tongues fought for dominance but you let him win. He eventually started going down on you, taking your Skims dress clean off, and started kissing your labia.
"This...this is a bloody fucking labia," he says. 
You lifted your legs as he began to eat you out, his wet breath on your cooter. He held your foot up and raised himself, ready to press his member into your entrance. Your eyes were closed, ready to take the boy from Birmingham in. This is it. No missed flights, no drunk men to call you Jezebels, no lung cancer from cigarettes and factory smoke, no IRS or IRA, nothing - just you and Tommy.
You and Tommy laid on his bed, in each other's arms. Since his bed was high-key smaller than a twin, it was pretty cramped, but neither of you minded. You two were smoking (him a cigarette and you your Elf bar), reminding you of that one band Cigarettes after Sex and how Tommy would've liked them, but they wouldn't drop music for another couple years in this time zone. 
You two talked softly as the rain patterned on the window's glass, some of the street lights peering through the curtain. If there was some incense on, it'd be a vibe. You originally thought his opium pipe was an incense holder but you were very mistaken. 
" - so yeah, that's why people picked team Jolie. But in all honesty, I feel bad for Jennifer, you know? Like, he literally cheated on her. Over what? A fucky boof ass movie? It was ass," you hit your Elf bar, refusing to accept it was dead. "I guess it doesn't matter now, cause NONE of them are together anymore. So what do you think? Aniston or Jolie?"
He took a drag of cigarette as he stared at the ceiling. He made an unsure face. 
"I'm not familiar with them."
"True. Fine, let me think of something you'd know. Like something English drama," you thought. "Okay, team Blur or team Oasis? I hear there was a lot of blood shed during the battle of Britpop."
He again took another drag of his cigarette. Anyone would be looking at this and thinking he found you hella annoying, but he didn't. He just genuinely thought you had a great imagination. 
"Neither, I guess. I don't have time to listen to music."
He was right, which was why he loved when you sang at the pub and most of all, to him during your private Lana concerts. 
As time went on, you were in DEEP. Scotland? Yeah never heard of her. Not only were you working for Tommy doing whatever bookkeeping is, but he had even introduced you to his family, which you KNOW damn well is a sign that shit is serious. 
You loved the Shelby's, even though they were a bit off their shit sometimes. But it wasn't anything new, you'd been well familiar with crazy families before. You loved talking shit with Polly, going to the 'cinema' with Ada, fucking with Arthur until he got mad, supplying John with his toothpicks and making little Finn believe in the fake number 'derf'. You got along with them well, they saw you as a perfect fit for the family - something different, vibrant and bright! You loved them and they loved you! Polly would even tell you in confidence that you made Tommy a happier person, something he lost after the war. Getting Polly's stamp of approval was literally it, that's all you needed. 
And you and Tommy? Yeah y'all were a thing. An item. During work hours he'd give you little looks here and there, and so did you, as if it was some secret office romance. But it wasn't secret literally everyone knew you were his girl. And that's power. 
You learned the ropes pretty fast, again it wasn't your first rodeo in the mob. It was like Colombia all over again, but we don't talk about that. Tommy fucked with you having a secretive criminal past, he thought it was pretty hot. 
Besides bookkeeping, you still worked in the bar. All the patrons loved when you sang Lana, it just went on to prove that she's indeed a poet. They eventually memorized them and sang along, which annoyed you sometimes cause you just wanted to hear yourself and they sounded like ass when they were drunk. But you just go along with it! 
Some of the songs you in the pub (and Tommy's room) sang included:
Bartender (cause hello? You're LITERALLY at a bar)
Shades of Cool (for Tommy's big blue ass eyes (you wished they could hear that guitar solo cause the acapella didn't do it justice :( ))
Cola (singing this for the fist time made you realize you had to censor a couple things, they weren't a fan of that intro)
Stargirl's Interlude (Lana's part obvi, but it's again for Tommy cause he's your starboy <3 he loved when you hit those high notes)
Brooklyn Baby (you avoided it cause it reminded you of your ex)
Video Games (hello it's for Tommy)
Love Song (this makes them all cry)
Money Power Glory (again hello it's Tommy, but this wouldn't hit until he's a member in Parliament)
National Anthem (being in England for so long made you forget the United States anthem)
Fucked My Way Up To The Top (literally you rn)
Speaking OF a bunch of drunk men, the gang loved you. You thought you were like the comedic relief of the little theater thing they had going on here. You had to admit, you admired the method acting everyone had done so far. It only, to you, proved that it worked, since you were GENUINELY left in deep in a psychosis where you're just a 1920's flapper girl. 
There was some rules and etiquettes you needed to remember, however. One, was of course, the "BILLY FACKIN KIMBA", and another was you finding out Tommy did NOT fuck with brujeria or anything dark magic related. You thought it was kinda funny, he reminded you of those Reddit r/atheist accounts but at the same time, he was low-key scared of zodiacs. Not that he didn't like it, he was paranoid at them. You literally asked his zodiac sign and he responded very sternly and seriously, 
"Y/N, don't."
You then said. "That's a very Capricorn thing to say."
Besides that, everything was great and chill.
It wasn't long before this annoying ass Irish inspector dude pulled up to the pub. Once he saw you, he locked eyes with you and approached the bar. You didn't like his vibe in the slightest. In fact, no one in the pub liked his vibe either. They all fell silent when he entered. 
"Excuse, me, ma'am," he said. You turned, not really wanting to talk. 
"Yeah, what?"
"Do you know about a Thomas Shelby?" 
"Yeah, what about him?" you didn't fuck with anyone who referred to Tommy as Thomas. Like?
"Do you know where I can find him?"
You were really starting to not fuck with his vibe even more. Something was def fishy. 
"You should really go back to being with the dinosaurs," you said. He didn't like that. 
He leaned in. "Do you know who I am? Who do ya think you arrrrrre?" the R's went very crazy. 
And just in time, as if he was your guardian angel, Tommy opened the doors to the little room beside the bar. Babes was hearing everything and he was NOT gonna let this dude talk shit to his girl like that. 
"You need to speak to me? Inspector Campbell, is it?" he said. "I've read about you in the papers."
Tommy then took Campbell soup outside to speak. Before leaving, he (Tommy) gave you a wink and you winked back. You knew that was code for 'let's hit my flat later'. Little did you know, this would be the last time.....
P.S. - when you asked one of the men at the pub who he was and someone replied IRA, you originally interpreted that as the Irish IRS and shat yourself. You didn't know how to tell Tommy your time was ticking, they'd located you - but you were not going down without a fight. 
You were both in his bedroom as usual, he was lying in bed smoking, you were hitting the Elf bar, rain pattering, English people yelling outside yeah you get the vibe. Anyway, he asked you to sing - a request you took quite seriously. You knew this was his only time of relaxation and you had to make the best of it before you break the news you needed to escape again.
You rose, sitting up and looking down at his BBL face. 
"Lana or Nicki?"
"Lana."
"Can I do Nicki? You never ask for her."
He took a drag and nodded. "Go ahead."
This, now this would be where you fucked up. Let's just say, you wish you could wipe out this night from your memory. Alas, all things need to come to an end, even the good ones, unfortunately. You'd never thought it would be like this though tbh. 
You stood up on the bed, as usual, cleared your throat all that bullshit. You thought and thought, "what's a good Nicki song? What's fitting?"
And then it hit you - it was definitely a deep cut. 
He had a soft smile on his lips, watching you as you were thinking. Little did he know, you were going to harness a part of yourself you hadn't seen in a while. This was a mode you unlocked that was such a release after, and you knew you had to go all or nothing. 
You cleared your throat. 
"Okay, so this one's kinda not AS well known, but it has British themes I think work well," you prefaced. "Okay, here I go."
The moment you opened your mouth, you let the spirit of Nicki come in. And once she's in, there's no going back. And Tommy was not prepared for that. You then started Nicki's verse in Sean Kingston's "Born To Be Wild".  
"♪ If you will die, then why would you try and if you reply, a suit and a tie is what I will buy then you will be mine because you and I were born to be wild, I am Martha you King Arthur who knew you would land me, I’ve been known to eat these rappers, cook em like chef Ramsey - ♪"
You were too deep to notice Tommy's rapid increasing worry and fear as you spat out those lyrics. It was too overstimulating for him to handle. You ate, but that was just want concerned him - he didn't know you were rapping. In fact, no one at this current time did. 
" ♪ - Mission accomplished, your my accomplice cover of vogue yeah ima go topless ima go bonkers ima go crazy ima get reckless then have a baby then hang the baby off the balcony teach him to moon walk tell em he's Japanese - ♪ "
No, he thought you were putting a curse on him. No, he was CONVINCED. 
"Stop! STOP!" Tommy rose from his bed, pushing the sheets off of him. 
You were shaken out of your trance, confused. You became worried, what happened? Did you miss something? Were y'all in danger?
"Wait, Tommy -"
"Enough! Stop!" you had never seen panic in that man's eyes. Never. And you didn't like it. He was looking straight at you, talking to YOU. 
"Stop what -"
"You're a bloody fucking witch!" he yelled, rubbing his hand through his hair while the other TIGHT on his hip. This was his evaluating stance. "That's what this is - that's what it's been."
"Uh, Tommy," you said, more annoyed that he interrupted your moment, "I'm no witch. I'm just, well, Y/N."
He took a deep breath, now facing away from you. He couldn't believe it. All this time, all that mumbo jumbo that came out of your mouth, all this time - they were just that. Curses. No wonder he didn't understand them, you were literally speaking in tongues this whole time. 
You walked towards him, slowly. This man needed that opium right now. 
"Tommy -"
"Leave. LEAVE!" he yelled, grabbing your messy bun, and doing what you didn't think would happen again for a very long time - he beybladed you. 
Spin. Spin. Spin.
"LET IT BLOODY RIP!"
And there it was. 
And there you went. 
He twisted you in the air round and round, ready for a different kind of liftoff. He flung you out the window, you crashed through and onto the cobblestone streets of Birmingham. 
That was it. All these months, all this rehearsing - it all came to an end. On a random Tuesday evening? The Tommy you once thought you knew was no more - after all this time, he never trusted you? Didn't he know who you were? Like dude he watched you be vulnerable at fuck up a tikka masala. TWO of them at that. 
Anyway, you realized maybe the entirety of UK just wasn't your vibe, anyway. With this 'IRA' now in town, your ass needed to be grass. Before leaving, you broke into his horse racing betting place whatever it's called and committed a little fun heist, taking all the money. What? A girl needed to sustain herself in this economy. Dog eat dog world shit. And plus, all your stuff was back at his apartment and you were DEF not gonna go back. Who knows? Was HE working for the Men In Black? Wining and dining you to gain his trust and he turned you in? Maybe he did you a favor in the end. 
And maybe you could upgrade to the latest iPhone when you got to London with all this horse money? With a shilling and a pound, the possibilities seemed endless. 
You walked down the streets, sad, but again more confused and a little relieved, onto your next destination, wherever that maybe. Anywhere Y/N went, it was all just a big adventure of a girl having fun being, well, just a girl having fun in this world. And THAT'S all that matters. 
Hope you enjoyed!
xoxo, 
~Sam St. Clair
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hollowwrites · 8 months
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What Do You Propose? - Omi
Sebastian and Garreth here
Summary - I’m feeling some kind of way lately so expect a lot of these…How the bois would propose!!
This is basically me justifying the stupid ship name I made for own character. Sue me.
Sorry for using my MCs all the time I’m just so in love with them. Replace with Y/N or MC if you want.
Warnings - None, Just Cutesy Proposal stuff if you dont like that sort of thing
Word Count - 1006
Ominis
Sebastian had gotten engaged!
What a wonderful day to celebrate with friends.
…unless you’re Evelyn.
Evelyn and Ominis had been together much longer than Sebastian and his partner and yet here he was…getting married before them.
She was happy for him, truly but…there was that niggling feeling at the back of her head that made her bitter and resentful.
Ominis and Evelyn said their goodbyes at the end of the night and walked back home in uncomfortable silence.
“Evelyn…is everything okay? Ominis broke the silence first, not standing for another second of this cold, dark and now silent existence he found himself in.
“Yes, everything is fine” she smiles weakly despite his inability to see it. The act itself almost convincing herself that everything was okay. He offers her his hand and she sighs when she looks at his ring finger, and sees it’s bare. Her stride slowed to a stop. “Actually, no, everything is not alright. Ominis, do you still love me?” She already knew the answer, and perhaps she was being a tad dramatic…but it’s how she felt.
Ominis pauses. A look of confusion flashes across his face.
"I… is this a trick question? Of course I love you."
“Then why aren’t we engaged?” She felt as though she was about to cry and she steadied her breathing so he wouldn’t know. It’s not the first time she’d tricked Ominis this way.
"You know the answer." He said flatly turning to her with his own expression of sadness. "If we were to get married, your life would be completely different. Gaunt is not a name that you want...believe me"
“I know…” she murmured. She’d witnessed this first hand. People talking about the Gaunts’ on the streets of Hogsmeade, the looks of fear she had to endure whenever he introduced himself. It pained her that people thought of him that way.
But she loved him.
And she wanted to be his.
“Couldn’t we…” she took a step closer to him and ran her hands across his chest pleadingly “…keep it secret? Or you could take my name? Or we could make our own. I don’t want to marry you for your name or…or for a wedding I just…” her voice faded as she realised this was the fifth time they’d had this conversation…and she didn’t expect it to end any differently. She sighed and took her hands away from him. “…let’s just go home” she muttered.
Before she could walk away, he took her wrists in his hands, bringing them back to his chest.
“…I’d never thought about changing my name…” he admitted "
Ominis smiled slightly. An idea seemingly crossing his mind.
“I like the idea of starting a new family with you…it would keep me safe and more importantly, it would keep you safe” he said softly as the grip on her wrists grew a little tighter.
“What if…” she smiled and traced little patterns onto his chest with her finger. “…we combine our names, to make something better. Like Gallow or-“
“-Haunt” Ominis smirked a small laugh escaping his lips. “Ominis and Evelyn Haunt”
“I like it” Evelyn grinned, her nose crinkling as she grew more and more giddy. “We could easily be mistaken for Hogwarts ghosts with names like that”
Ominis chuckled and leaned down to kiss her on her forehead.
"I think that would work” he smirked “…but only one problem remains."
“What’s that?”
"The problem is..." He took both of her hands in his pressing the palm of one to his chest and the other to his lips. She could feel the steady thump of his heart. The man was discussing completely changing his future and name and yet was as calm as the most docile of mooncalves. "I don't have a ring." He smiled and laughed softly. “…and I doubt you have one tucked away in that bag of yours”
“No but…” She pulled her hands away, patting her pockets and searching through her bag. “Oh…you can use this…” she ripped the metal band off a loose potion bottle and handed it to him.
Ominis took the ring with one hand feeling the metal between his fingers over and over before taking her hand…
…and lowering to one knee.
"Evelyn, Would you do me the honour of starting a new family with me? Would you continue to make me a better man? Would spend the rest of eternity with me? Will you marry me?”
“Yes!” Her eyes were glossy with unshed tears and she grinned uncontrollably. With the utmost of care, Ominis slid the metal ring onto Evelyn's ring finger, her hands shaking like a leaf. It was huge and would definitely fall off as soon as she moved, but she would take this ring over a diamond any day.
He stood back up towering over her until he picked her up and twirled her around. His chest vibrated against hers as they laughed
"I love you, Evelyn” He set her down though his hands never left her waist “I’m sorry this took so long…I-“
“I love you too!!” She stared at her hand in disbelief, still shaking “I can’t quite believe it…I was starting to think this would never happen”
He gazed down at her, his unseeing eyes sympathetic.
“Please know it was never my lack of love that kept me from you. I just feared that…I'm sorry I made you worry. Please trust me when I say that I love and care about you. I just have a duty... to protect you" he shook his head “…it’s no matter now”
“And I, you” she wrapped her arms around him, smiling into neck “It’s just us now”
It took just three days for Ominis to buy a ring.
A proper one.
It was a simple silver band with a small perfectly round emerald in the centre. The small amount of filigree that crept up the sides of the stone kept it elegant and proper.
Though she still wore the bottle ring on a chain around her neck.
Masterlist
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wickedgamesoyaoya · 1 month
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❧ 6. Stray Cat
❧ Masterlist - Previous - Next
❧  A/N: Sooo what are we feeling so far, ya'll!
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"The weather keeps on getting worse, huh?"
Concern had the black-haired male's mouth twitching into a partial frown. Above him, strokes of light animated the sky in a battle that had even frightened away the stars. The sounds of the aerial conflict was startling too - to say the least. The rumbling was enough to mimic a minor earthquake, which was why Kuroo was considering abandoning his plans for the night. A single kilometre remained on his journey, but the streets were now flooding and his desire to attend a party in soaked clothes was close to 0.
For a moment, he had to wonder, just who angered the Gods above? As this was perhaps the worst storm he had witnessed in his entire lifetime. Okay, 25 years may not seem much to most - but it's two decades and a half!
After exhaling an elongated breath, he managed to convince himself to continue a bit longer. Kenma seemed to desire his presence, and there was also Koutarou who had almost separation anxiety. The thought had him chuckling lowly to himself. And as for his clothes, someone would lend him something, right?
Eh, that was a problem for when he actually arrived.
The pathway to classroom H9 was mostly deserted, although he did pass by a few stragglers rushing to find shelter. The scowls on their faces and the curses uttered under their breath had Kuroo shaking his head with a faint smile.
The rain appeared to be the primary adversary for the students of Sacred Arms Academy today.
Well, except for one.
A lone occupant could be observed on the bench ahead, sitting with her head against the backrest. What stunned Kuroo was that she was simply accepting the disastrous climate. From his current vantage point, he could not make out whether or not her eyes were open. However, he could see clearly that her face was taking most of the brute force of the rain.
The scene resembled a painting; one that would cause viewers to pause and ponder what exactly happened to the subject of the work. Was she heartbroken? Was she lost? Or was she purely insane? Or was it something beyond the average person's comprehension?
Before Kuroo's mind could catch up to his feet, he was already moving towards you. Whether it was sympathy or the pull of curiosity, he did not know. And as he proceeded closer, a strange thought occurred to him - was she hiding her tears in the rain?
The identity of the person only registered when he was stood right beside you. Mikage Y/N. Reo's older sister. The one the younger male was worried about.
Upon closer examination, it was easy to determine that you were outside for at least 15 minutes. Not an inch of your face or body was spared from the wrath of the harsh weather. Mascara was smudged on the corner of your eyes, and yet you still somehow looked breathtaking. Truly a worthy subject for a piece of art.
"I'm pretty sure you're supposed to use an umbrella when it rains." Kuroo shifted the umbrella within his grasp as he leaned in, it was large enough to cover you both to a degree. But he was content with getting a bit of rain on himself now. Perhaps, you inspired him just a bit.
Your heavy eyelids flutter open when you hear the unfamiliar male's voice. If you were in a different mental state, you probably would have been startled to see a handsome man peer down at you. But after enduring your father's latest lesson, you were defeated and desired nothing more than to drown in the rain devastating the city.
"I didn't ask for your kindness." Your attention lazily flickers to the umbrella now sheltering you before returning to the man ahead. He's staring so intently with curiosity twinkling in his irisies. And all you can do is return his interest with an empty glare.
"There are some things you don't have to ask for." Although he was hesitant for a second, a playful smile tugged at the end of his mouth. "And I'd be a pretty big asshole to ignore a stray cat without an umbrella." He had prayed silently that his teasing remark would at least earn him a smile. Or even a crack in your cold facade.
Oh, he was surely mistaken.
"I'm not an animal that needs saving." To catch the male off guard, you lifted yourself from the bench suddenly, causing him to stumble a step back. Surprise morphed instantly into amusement as he took in your unusual stance. "And let me give you a warning, since you clearly need it. Unnecessary kindness can kill. You're going to school with cutthroat assholes, you might as well learn to behave like one too."
Despite the pellets of liquid colliding with your body, you crossed your arms over your chest protectively. Sure, you probably came across as a lunatic. But it was better that way. Nothing in this life came free. Everything came packaged with expensive price tags, and you were exhausted from continuously paying the price.
"Anyway. Please stop looking at me like that. I also didn't ask for your pity, and I don't deserve it either." Pressing your teeth together, tension formed along your jawline.
Just why was this man so interested in you? Why had he not left yet? Why was he still standing there, watching you with those damn eyes?
"I'm not sure what you're talking about and why you're so angry. But accepting help in a shitty moment isn't a bad thing. It doesn't make you weak." Honestly, Kuroo had no standing to attempt to reason with you. Yet he found himself rooted in his spot and overcome with a desire to comfort you. It probably had to do with the moment earlier, when you secured gazes. He had never come across someone with eyes that displayed true and unadulterated sorrow. And while he knew virtually nothing about you, his chest was overcome with heartache.
No one should have to suffer that much.
"I didn't ask to be taught a lesson. I've had quite enough of those. And I understand the world well enough." Why were needless words spilling from your lips easily to a stranger? Even that question puzzled you. Did you not just spend an entire week avoiding conversation with your colleagues?
The only reasonable possibility was that your father's manipulation had commenced its reign over your mind. His desire - no.
His instructions were for you to become a socialite, one that everyone envied but no one was able to touch. A lethal individual truly, one that every man knew to remain clear of. It had appeared your two-minute conversation with the gamer had reached your father's ears, and he was rather displeased. That was why much of his lecture focused on how a lady is to behave around men.
And the person in front of you was certainly a man, and an incredibly attractive one. Not that it mattered.
Right now, you appeared as a damsel in distress. When in reality, this was a form of suffering you had chosen.
"So, I'd suggest that you go on your way and stop looking for people to save. Because clearly your hero radar is broken." This was the final thought you had selected to vocalize. It was enough to repel any ordinary person. Who would want to waste their time on an ungrateful bitch?
Right?
"Wow, my hero radar." A hand was sent to his chest to feign hurt from the strange insult. However, by this point, your back was turned towards him and you were already starting to walk away from the scene. It was peculiar just how confident your strides were despite the fact you were undoubtedly soaked and shivering.
Internally, the voice of rationality suggested that he leave you alone from now on. But it was the other voice that was much more convincing.
For some bizarre reason, he felt compelled to seek you out again. And based on the whispers in the hallways, he knew exactly how to make your paths cross again.
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TAGLIST: @boosyboo9206 @hunnie-lily @valleyofheartz @pearl-blue-musings @moonlit-mizukage @lilith412426 @veecynii @aquariarose
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