#But I like to think this is the divide between him and Thomas | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

zomb-rabbit · 7 months ago

Note

Rabbit

Rabbit I'm begging you to do stalker headcanons with Mh or EMH guys (you don't gotta ofc! But w o ah)

🐟

AAAA IM SO HAPPY U LIKED THEM !!!! I WAS RLLY HAPPY W HOW THE TOBY ONES CAME OUT :)))) also,,,, watch me hit u w ALL the guys !!!!!!!!!!!!!! (nsfw can come later if u wish fishy, i skipped it cus this is alr a super long post BFJSJFNJS) (also i got to use my rainbow dividers i have saved up cus there's so many ppl YAYYYYYYY)

[📹⛓️‍💥🚬👁️☠️🐇]

Stalker!Brian Thomas / Hoodie / Tim Wright / Masky / Evan Myers / HABIT x gn!reader headcanons :)

Brian ;

ok we know Brian likes to record

so expect there to be at least one camera on you a majority of the time

sometimes he'll leave it in a tree or placed just right behind a fence post, zoomed in on your bedroom window so he can document you and your routine even when he's busy

he's so thoughtful 😸😸😸

definitely the type to perfectly curate a "meet-cute" for the both of you, writing down the coffee place you stop off at on mondays for a pick-me-up, the stores you go to that have your favorite brand of something, he calculates his every action with you long before it's happened.

he knows what he's doing is wrong, but unlike Toby, he's not exactly ashamed of it. if anything he likes the added excitement that you could still find him out

this is one of the times him and Hoodie kind of blur together a little bit, both in morals and actions

Brian is fully willing to do whatever it takes to keep eyes on you and to keep you under his thumb and his alone; it doesn't matter who gets in his way

Hoodie ;

also a big fan of recording, but tends to get much more risky with it

likes the feeling that you might catch a little camera that's nestled in between some trinkets and books or a pile of blankets you keep on your couch

he is a creepy creeper . he wants to watch EVERYTHING

gets his feelings hurt when you close your curtains cus you feel eyes on you (you're right, but still :(()

it takes a lot to deter him from doing everything in his power to keep watch over you

he's not even sure of his own motives, really. sure, he wants to keep you safe and make sure no one else is watching you, but most of the time he's just there to watch.

you're like a doll to him, something to entertain him.

Masky ;

this isn't even part of this i just wanna say the vibe for stalker Masky (and just him in general tbh) for me feels a lot like the intro to My Meds Aren't Working by Dystopia . very slow, calculating, stuck in your own head but still zeroed in on one thing

and it's you ofc !!!!

i think Masky is one of the more scarier guys to have stalking you on this lineup honestly. hot? yes absolutely. terrifying to see constantly out of the corner of your eye, sitting at the bus stop outside your job, standing in the parking lot of the gas station by your apartment complex and staring up into your window? YES VERY

he's haunting. he doesn't go up to you, will go completely brick wall at you if you try to come up to him, and you can never tell what emotion is going on behind his eyes. the few times you've walked closer to him, likely on the street in the earlier stages, he looked hungry. like he was waiting and watching for your guard to be down to do something.

if he knows you'll be out, he'll get into your house to steal some of your clothes- likely your underwear (creepy crawler) and a sleep shirt

you will never see him without the mask on. point blank. not to smoke, eat, anything. he is not human or himself when he's around you; he needs to absorb everything about you.

i don't think of him to be the type to film you, would rather be there in person 24/7. it feels more personal to him.

Tim ;

one of the few guys that feels guilt about what he's doing- he knows how scary it is to feel watched all the time. how awful it is to find out you were right.

he’s embarrassed of himself; he’s prided himself on being stoic and independent for so long that this sudden urge to love you and watch you and know you gives him waves of shame

watches from afar, would definitely try and avoid letting himself get too close to you in person. he’s ashamed of it, but he can’t help himself- he needs you, even if at a distance.

steals clothes you’ve slept in so he can try and satiate his yearning to be close to you without actually needing to be so vulnerable, with you or anyone

his near dependency on you reminds me of It Will Come Back by Hozier, his obsession is fed by breadcrumbs from the few in-person up close encounters he’s had with you. smiles when he comes into where you work, nervous little waves when you catch him looking at you at the store, soft 'excuse me!'s when you pass by him

you drive him up a wall (lovingly)

Evan ;

Evan feels guilty, but for the ‘wrong’ reasons

i say ‘wrong’ because he’s more concerned with you inevitable introduction to the whole Habit mess, not with the morals of stalking and obsessing over you

despite his guilt, he can’t get enough of you. his persistence rivals Brian's; it’s almost immediate that he tries to get you with him

latches onto you for fear of you leaving- honestly less of a stalker and more on the obsessive side. not good at keeping his hands to himself.

you might be one of the only cases where he tries to bargain and/or work with Habit, in an attempt to keep you safe or keep you near him out of desperation if you're not listening to him when he tries to convince you to stay with him essentially 25/8

touchy obsessive little critter . give him what he wants before he goes sicko mode (being 10 feet away from you at all times)

Habit ;

does not hide himself AT ALL

will actively be letting you know he's watching

seeing him behind you in mirrors, rabbit motifs everywhere, a random blood splatter in plain sight that no one else seems to see.

he watches, he knows, and he learns

what things make you the most paranoid, all the ways he can slowly introduce himself in a more. friendly light to get you to trust him. to love him.

he's what's best for you, whether you like it or not. it just might take some time for you to get there

ironically for him, think 'The Best Is Yet To Come' by Frank Sinatra. it's just a matter of time before things get so much better. for the both of you, of course!

#guys can you tell i love me some creepy crawler masky #🐟#brian thomas x reader #hoodie x reader #tim wright x reader #masky x reader #evan myers x reader #habit emh x reader #emh habit x reader #marble hornets x reader #everymanhybrid x reader #rabbit writings

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cerisemerald · 3 months ago

Text

One and only — Thomas Shelby x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: She has been loving Thomas for a while now, and it is heaving on her the fact she thinks he still is in love with Grace — she needs a confession, a affirmation that she is not just filling in a gap. It comes in a unexpected night, followed by an unusual morning, but everything with Thomas was like that.

MUSIC: One and only by Adele

A/N: this is the second fic I am reposting from my old account (I accidentally deleted it) and it was from one of my celebrations (200 followers I think) that consisted of fanfics inspired by Adele’s songs from the album 21, this one was requested by a dear friend and it is very dear to me!! It happens between s1-s2, Thomas meets (Y/N) after grace leaves. Feedback is always welcomed!

WARNINGS: English is not my first language.

WORD COUNT: 5,477

[MASTERLIST] [MOODBOARD]

(divider credit is for @cafekitsune)

“Thomas,” she calls, staring at his back, but he doesn't answer, he continues to look at the field in front of them instead. “Thomas?”

“Hm?” He still doesn't look at her.

(Y/N) decides to finally walk to him, she does not stop in front of him though, sensing something was wrong and not wanting to disturb or annoy him somehow. She stops right behind Thomas, a step of distance between them, from this close she can see the tension in his shoulders better, and as much as she wishes to touch him and try to tranquillise him, she waits. He doesn't do anything, however, not even looks at her, and she sighs.

She looks at the field, too, trying to understand what is possibly happening in his head. But she has a strong guess, one she does not like at all. (Y/N) hates when Thomas lives more in his past than in his present life, for her, it was his biggest flaw; the way he was constantly living for memories and not for life itself. And she feels that now he is probably thinking about what happened two years ago, Grace.

(Y/N) does not care he is thinking of her, that she can understand, after all he did fall in love with her, it would not be easy, especially for Thomas who protected himself with so many walls, to forget the woman. She doesn't expect him to just stop thinking about Grace overnight, but it did hurt, sometimes, how it felt, as if she was living in the shadows of someone bigger than her. It had been Grace's mistake, but she was the one paying for it, paying for the mistakes of a woman she hadn't even met.

She also knew, of course, that it would take Thomas time to trust again, to open himself like he had before. She knew everything that revolved around a broken heart, she did, but knowing did not make anything easier to deal with. It was still hard to face Tommy and see how, even in his most present moments, a piece of him was lost. Sometimes, she would ask herself why she even stayed, when it seemed like Thomas would never love her the same way. But she did, returned to him every single time, hope, maybe, tying her to him.

“Tom, why’d you bring me here?”

Thomas had showed up in her house last night, surprising (Y/N) in the middle of the week. It was not how their encounters usually went, Thomas would see her mostly on weekends. Sometimes he would spend the night, sleep with her to leave only on Sunday morning, sometimes stay up until four pm, these nights they would dance in her kitchen while drinking whiskey. It was all simple, but what mattered was that they talked, that they would sit down to talk and would sooth each other. Everything between them was simple, even love, when it came to their realisations that they were in love. There hadn't been a confession, not from her nor from him, they had just looked at each other differently, held each other for longer, kissed with more passion than ever, and that was enough to understand.

But yesterday was very different. She could not understand what was happening, neither read it on his face. As soon as she opened the door, he was tense, eyes haunted — not like tiredness from work or exhaustion because of all his problems, but as if he had just heard terrible news and saw his world crumbling. When she greeted him with a kiss, he had not held her waist or face, and had returned the kiss distantly. Still, she breathed and let him in, hoping that she might help somehow. He didn't talk much, short answers only, but it was like he needed the attention, needed her to listen to him, so she did. After sometime, she had run out of ideas to console him and offered for them to share a meal together, and for the first time since they had known each other, he ate something. Almost unnerving, but she was so relieved that she chose to see that as a good sign. After that, Thomas just sat in silence while she cleaned the plates.

When (Y/N) finished, she turned around to see he was sitting still at the table, eyes closed, breathing like he was trying to control himself. She couldn’t tell if he was trying to hold back tears or a scream, whatever it was, it was consuming him, drowning him in anguish. (Y/N) moved slowly, getting closer to him and delicately grabbing his hand. Then she whispered his name like a secret, like she was afraid of being caught saying that, because, in truth, she wasn’t sure if she wanted Tommy to hear it or not.

But Thomas did, and he squeezed her hand like his life depended on it, returning the touch with such a force it took her aback. It was not like he never touched her, or that he didn’t show any sign of affection such as holding her hand, but that touch was different. It was acid, burning (Y/N)'s skin in seconds and leaving a million scars behind. Thomas touched her like she was the only one capable of saving him.

It was scary. It was exhilarating. It was a breath of heaven’s pure oxygen. It was suffocating as the smoke on a fire. And it was only a touch of hand.

But it said so many things, it said that he wanted her there, that he actually needed her there. And she was happy with being wanted, but being needed was something she could not even describe, it was overwhelming. It took (Y/N)’s breath away. It made her forget everything else she needed to do, because Thomas was there, all of him, in her kitchen, holding her hand and asking her to be there for him.

With care, she walked until she was behind him, her arms adjusting perfectly in his neck, allowing his head to find a rest in her belly, it was not often Thomas would let her be the one embracing him. Usually, he would be more vulnerable after they would have an entire night together, and he would lay down between her legs and relax on her chest while she caressed him. (Y/N) started to caress his hair, gently as she could, and she noticed that with time, Thomas was melting to her touch, a small smile grew on her lips, but she kept quiet. It was the first time she felt like she could have every single piece of him with her. He sighed as she took some strands of his face, inclining his head even more.

Thomas opened his eyes suddenly, and because of his moving, they were now staring right at each other. Her heart sank with what she could see, his eyes were dark and tired, hurt. Still, she didn't say anything, knowing it had to be him the one to initiate any type of conversation about what was happening, she only kept caressing his hair. After some seconds, he reached for her left hand and kissed it, making her smile again, he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb, and she understood that it was his way of saying thank you. And, in a way, showing that he liked being near her like that. Although he seemed more calm, it didn't look like he would talk, and it was obvious how tired he was, so instead of asking anything, (Y/N) offered for them to sleep. He nodded, and they were quick to go to bed, a simple, but genuine kiss as a good night.

In the morning, he had all of a sudden woken her up with kisses on her neck — like last night hadn’t been so different, saying he wanted to take her somewhere. And yet, even though it was his idea to bring her, he hadn’t spoken since they got in here.

“I haven't come here in a long time.” He finally says something, making (Y/N) stare at him again. “My father…” Thomas takes a time to complete his sentence, “my father used to bring us here, sometimes, I hunted with him one day.”

“Hunted what?”

“A deer,” Thomas smirks, finally directing his look at her.

“You still didn’t answer me.” Thomas smirks only grows bigger at her words. “Why did you bring me here, Thomas?”

He keeps staring at her, she can’t tell everything he is thinking, but that he wants to say something and the words are hard to say, she is sure.

“I don’t know.” He confesses, and (Y/N) could have believed it if it wasn't for the hint of doubt in his tone, as if he didn't want to tell all the truth, but at the same time, didn't know all of it too.

She breathes deeply, she is trying really hard to understand him, she has been for quite some time, but he never truly gives her the chance. “It's that so?”

Thomas and her stare at each other for long seconds, it's not a battle this time, it's not her trying to reach him and him running away, (Y/N) feels as if she is already inside, but can't see what it is, and how could she? When he showed nothing before. She is not sure how to navigate this, what to search, what to ask, not this time, and that scares and frustrates her in equal amounts.

Thomas has these eyes that always make her feel naked, confused and alive. He sometimes looks at her like she is precious, like he cannot go a second without touching her, and she believes it, because his eyes are true, raw even. And then, he could look at her the way he is doing now, like she has just stabbed him, as if she has his heart in her hands to do whatever she wanted, and she decided to make him suffer. It wasn’t true, and it wasn’t fair, she didn’t have him like that, so why would he stare at her with all that devotion and agony?

She chuckles, lowly and dryly, and starts to walk, leaving him behind. (Y/N) doesn't know exactly what she is feeling at the moment, but everything is a little too much. She doesn't want to have to guess, it would be nice, for once, if he could finally say it out loud.

Stopping a few steps away from him, she finally takes a better look at everything in front of her, how beautiful that field is, how breathtaking the view of the sky is with no pollution from the city. The sun hadn’t completely risen yet, some shades of purple, pink, and orange decorated the sky. It looks just like a painting, she thinks, and it hurts a bit to realise that it would be a pretty day to feel good, for her and Tommy to be doing something enjoyable.

What bothers most is that it feels like there is just one last wall between them, and she had thought she would finally have him — but it's not simple, it never is. Thomas has to be the one to take that last step, he has to be the one to, at last, face what he is feeling. If she is the one to do it, to once again try to put pieces together to understand him, it will never change, he will only come home broken and expects mending. She wants more than that, she wants genuine words being said, wants to feel more than… a fragment.

She was afraid sometimes, what if the problem was not his past love, but her? Understanding that old feelings were hard to get rid of was easy, but to which point was Thomas protecting himself from any new feelings? Did it ever become a protection against her? (Y/N) would ask herself, what was he so afraid of? Afraid of having feelings for someone again? Or was he just afraid of… her? It scared her that maybe it wasn’t love and it’s disappointments that kept them apart, maybe it was her. And that she couldn’t fix.

She kicks some rocks by her feet and holds back another frustrated sigh, feeling like maybe she wasn't being fair, that her previous insecurities and frustrations might be influencing her. (Y/N) was trying so hard, to be seen, to be heard, to be loved. Because she loved him, honestly and easily, but had she not done this before? Tried to communicate, to understand? With others that now seem pale in comparison with Thomas, but still, love was a complicated thing. For her, it had always been, since the very beginning, since she had known what love was. It was not just Thomas, no, it would be unfair to say it was only him, perhaps she also needed time to deal with what was inside her. Yet she can't help to think it is different with him, there were others before, but he is the one that matters, he is the one she wants close at all times, the one she still stays close to even with all the hurt and words unsaid, waiting, wishing.

It was Tommy, after all, making her heart feel full and empty at the same time, occupying her thoughts, making her feel like things could get better someday.

If she just had the chance to properly talk to him… to cross all the bridges and understand, maybe then a conclusion would be made, one not based on assumptions she could not fully trust.

Nevertheless, here they are, turbulent thoughts clouding each one's mind. The surroundings are beautiful, the wind making leaves float in the air, both of them with their mouths clasped shut and minds running wild.

She can't see it, Thomas thinks, this time she doesn't seem to see the truth in his eyes. He notices the way she is shrinking inside herself, body almost crumbling, and he walks to her, he is tense when he hugs her from behind, arms keeping her in a tight embrace. Thomas knows she is fighting back tears by the way she lets herself go and relaxes her head against his chest as soon as he pulls her in. He can feel the way her body is fighting, half of her not willing to rest completely.

He never truly knows what to say, he did when he was with Grace, or almost always did, a clarity coming to him when he was about to do something stupid. With (Y/N) it is different, he knows how he feels, and she says the right thing, and he lets her read him, and they go on. Sometimes he has to say it, because she is tired, because she needs him to, or simply because he feels the urge to. But now it feels like they have reached a point that if Thomas keeps being silent, things will end.

Still, for a while they just stay in silence. Thomas keeps his touch steady, not entirely conscious that he is drawing patterns on her waist until she lets out a sigh that he recognises quickly by now, contentment, he can feel her relaxing a bit more. His hands wander a bit further, tracing her belly and up her chest, and as he remembers the night they met, his touch becomes heavier. For what felt like an eternity, he had wished to touch her. It was quick, she'd always say, how they met and how they ended up in a private room. She was not aware that for him, it had felt like a long waiting.

A party that he meant to go for business only, not even much interested in said business, at least not enough to try to do it in person, he had sent John to do it, but he got sick. Never before had Thomas been so happy with his brother being ill. Had he never gone to that party, he would not have met her. And it was a truth, even though he did not say it much, but a truth nonetheless, that since they met, she was constantly taking him out of his stupor. Since he had laid his eyes on her, he felt it, hands pulling him up, making him finally blink and wake up.

It was simple between them, it had been since the beginning, he had wanted her and there was no room for questioning if he would follow her, she had corresponded in the same intensity. Slowly their lives came in between, the days apart, the reality of each one, but even then, she only told Thomas she would be waiting, and there was no room for questioning if he would come back.

On the weeks with fewer visits from him, nothing changed, on the weeks he could see her more frequently, everything did.

Although his ghosts still haunted him, it was not the same as before, he could breathe now, push them away easier. But he had never been good with words when it came to this. To confess, he used words to get what he wanted, to conquer, long gone was the time words served as a way to connect and open himself. Grace had started to change that, easily as if she was a childhood love, she had picked up his heart on her hands. Thomas had not expected it, and when it hit him, he realised how truly in love he had been. For once his intuition had left him, after such a long time creating walls upon walls, they crumbled only to have to be raised again. He had also not expected it to change, to meet someone else, and yet, he did.

“What are you thinking?” She asks, head still resting against him.

“You.”

“You are thinking about me?” He can hear the small smile on her lips.

“Yes.”

“What about me?”

“The night we met.”

“Oh.” She chuckles, as if something suddenly made sense to her. “You were so pretty that night.”

Thomas holds back a smile, like he usually does when she says something like this. “I’d say you were more.”

(Y/N) laughs and turns to look at him, distancing herself enough so they could stare, he is relieved to see there are no tears in her eyes. “I was, but it didn’t last long after I met you.”

Her arms find a place on his shoulders as she hugs him, hiding her face on the crock of his neck. She radiates warmth, and Thomas welcomes it eagerly.

“It wasn’t all my fault.” Thomas says, dead serious, because sometimes she seems to forget they burn together, and she laughs again.

He feels when her body changes after a few moments, her breathing getting erratic, he prepares himself.

“Tom?” It's nothing more than a whisper.

“Yes.”

“I’ve been thinking, and…” something in him is begging for him to interrupt her, he knows what is coming, he can feel it. “I think we should, you know, stop seeing each other.”

He stays quiet, his arms never leave her body.

“Why?”

She takes a long time to answer, and Thomas starts to look for words he can say, things he can do to fix whatever needs to be fixed. He knows what it is, but as her silence stretches so much, he wonders if there is something more, if there is more he did and was unaware of it, that isn't hard to imagine. He feels, somehow, the moment she shivers, her arms seem to lose strength, her embrace weakening.

(Y/N) takes a deep breath before speaking,“because… because I feel like I’m Grace’s shadow. I feel like you met me when you were desperately needing someone to replace the emptiness that she left at your heart. It’s not that I’m the same as her, no…” she hides her face even more in his body, “it’s just you wanted someone to make you forget all the pain. And it happened that I was there to be your distraction. And at the beginning, I didn't care. But now, I do.”

She stops, Thomas knows she is fighting back tears, knows that she hates having to say all of this. Then she whispers, “I care because I’m in love with you, and being someone’s shadow for the man I love isn’t my biggest wish.”

What a treacherous path Thomas had walked them into. He could not deny it what he felt in the past was real, what he and Grace had shared was still haunting him, as his deceptions and frustrations always did. He never admitted, but for him, things like that never left his mind, he just pushed them away, kept them hidden. And still, things did not need to be like this, he did not have to act like that. He did… he liked (Y/N), not just that, he loved her even. A small and fragile thing at first, threatening to hurt him, not because it hurt, but because it made him finally move on. But now, a year later, it was not that small any more, he knew what he felt, knew that he searched for her when they were apart. And Thomas had no necessity in comparing what he felt before with what he felt now, he knew it would take time for something like that to happen again — to be true, he had not even thought it would happen again, but it did, it is happening.

Thomas blinks, watching as flowers and leaves were stirred by the wind, a hollow sound surrounding them. There is so much more he probably doesn't know, more things she thinks and has kept to herself.

“You’re not Grace’s shadow.” He says in a whisper, his voice betraying him. It sounds weak, and he wanted to convey how strong his affection is. Nonetheless, he hears her sighing in relief, distancing herself from him a bit, but still not looking at his eyes.

“You love her Tom,” (Y/N) states, “you’re still deeply in love with her and all you lived by her side. If I’m not her shadow, then I’m a mere ghost of what she was.” She raises her eyes to his face, he is already staring, always staring at her.

She looks at him with so much resignation that Thomas is almost convinced he cannot change her mind.

“I’m not angry or mad or upset about this. I’m just sad.” She says it then, voice low, Thomas knows it is because she is holding tears back. “And it doesn’t matter how much I love you, I don’t want to be sad, to feel miserable every time I don’t act like someone I don't even know. I just don’t want that life for me, even if that means losing you.”

He looks away, not being able to stare at her eyes at the moment, not when he doesn't have the right words to say. It was not his intention for it to reach this point, for her to think he wants a copy of Grace. He knows he has to say it, explain himself, but it is like being paralysed. It's the kiss on his cheek that makes him finally blink, it is the way her lips are so delicate against his skin, a goodbye. She leaves his arms, turning around to go back to the car, but he holds her wrist immediately, (Y/N) stops, looking at him with knitted eyebrows.

Thomas takes in all of her at that moment, the determination clear in her eyes, eyes he has grown so accustomed to, that do not search him unless he opens himself, eyes that love him, tender him. Eyes that he cannot forget even when she is not with him. He looks at her lips, lips that have said the words he needed to hear, the ones he did not want to hear, lips that have kissed him with so much passion that he was able to forget the world for some hours. She has, slowly, found a place inside of him, roots with her name overtaking his chest. Her hair flutters around her face, she seems tired, (Y/N) offers no more resistance on her face, only resignation, but she does not pull away either. He engraves every single detail of her in his mind.

The words are not helping him, he cannot think of anything good enough to say, it is like she wiped his mind, leaving nothing but thousands of pictures of her behind. Of every moment she has used her words not to pry him open, but to convince him to do so, every moment she has held him in place instead of insisting on dragging him somewhere else.

It was at the moment, the sun shining brightly, orange light taking over the sky, making her skin seem warm to the touch, that he finally realised. It had always been simple between them, he did not need to complicate it right now, there was no need for elaborate words, only the truth. She wanted something straight-forward, (Y/N) was just asking for it to be real.

“I don’t want her,” Thomas says, words finally appearing. “I don’t want her like I want you. Not any more.”

And it was true, he had loved Grace, had felt something he thought himself incapable of after the war, and yet, it passed. She had betrayed him, and he still felt it then, sometimes still feels it now, but it passed.

She gives a step forward, “but you still love her, right?”

He allows himself to remember Grace's face, her tender touch, it was involuntary, the care that comes with it. But there is also the pang of heartbreak, the understanding and the sense of finality, there is nothing he can do to go back in time, and now, he does not want it any more. He has (Y/N), she mended what was broken. He takes a step towards her as well, hand tightening even more around her wrist, he wants her now more than he ever did.

“Yes.” he admits, because it is also true that (Y/N) can wring secrets from him. “But she’s past.”

“Is she, Tom?” She gives in a deep breath, “if that’s so, you’re a man living your days in the past. You’re always with her, even when you try to be here with me.”

“No.” he denies, low and firm, “It’s not me living in the past, (Y/N).”

“What is it then?”

He wants to say it at that moment, to confess she haunts him, that his past always does — who he was before war, who he became during it. It is a part of him now. But that is not his nature any more, to confess this easily, it takes time, and he has said more today than he ever did before. Instead, he looks at her, knowing that when nothing comes out of his mouth, that it's what denounces him, his eyes.

She reads him again. Thomas knows, he always knows when she understands. Maybe it is the look on her face, he has never been able to identify what it was, but something changed when she could get him.

“I know it ain't easy,” (Y/N) says, getting closer to him, she puts a hand on his face, “it seems to haunt you, Thomas.”

She is close now, enough that he can feel the warmth of her body again. Thomas lets himself relax against her, his hand still on her wrist, he can feel her pulse now, slightly accelerated.

“I feel left out sometimes,” she whispers, “as if she is right behind me, and I am echoing her words, or at least the words you wanted her to say.”

Thomas nods, “you are not like her.”

(Y/N) seems surprised at that, “what was she like?”

But that is too much. “You are different,” he establishes, firm enough for her to understand he does not want to talk about Grace like that. It's easier to just forget, sharing this feels strange, describing how he loved her — because it would not be just an impartial view of how she was. “And your words too, you do not echo her in my mind.”

You fixed it. Erased what hurt was left on the surface.

(Y/N) squint her eyes at him, he lets her stare into his eyes, lets her understand.

“If we…” she cleans her throat, “if you try, could this work?”

He bites his tongue to say that is already working, because yes, for him, it is, but she is opening herself to him and saying she is hurting.

“What do you want?” He asks, instead.

“You.” (Y/N) shrugs, “I know we can't be each other one and only. But it would be good if you opened yourself more, I cannot always read your mind.”

He must've frowned at that, because she immediately completes, “I know it's different for you, how you open up. I sometimes wish for words, it's true, but it is not what you can give me and I know that.” And although she understood it wrong — he was just surprised when she said she could not always read him —, he was happy to hear that.

Thomas puts a hand on her waist, pulling her and closing the distance that was left, he can feel her now, that smell that calms him every time they sleep together, he tightens his grip. There is not a world where he would refuse this, it is surprising, sometimes even slightly scary and annoying, how she managed to awaken him when he fought so much to numb himself. But he always comes back to her, always knocks on her door, because it is stupidity to refuse her, push her away, only a mad man would do that. He consumes her instead, goes to her house, drinks from her lips with such thirst it is as if he is famished, and it is never enough. Whatever she wants, he thinks, whatever she wants to stay.

She is looking at him with an indecipherable expression, but he cares not at the moment, he will have plenty of time to reflect on everything she said today, to understand her even more. Now, he searches for her lips, brushing his own against her, wanting to feel her before making the real move. He is not one for teasing, every time he does this, it is because the waiting feel as good as the actual kiss, the way he can feel her skin shivering, the way she whimpers slightly — because they are the same when it comes to this, she also has an insatiable hunger. They finally kiss, then, desperate to feel each other, it always feels like they are one at this moment, and nothing else matters.

She is the one to break the kiss, only to look at him and whisper, “I love you.”

Before Thomas can think of answering, her lips are crashing against his again, demanding, taking, and he answers it. He almost chuckles when one of her hands find her way to get under his shirt, but his own body leans into it in such a fast manner he knows he would be laughing at himself too.

Since the first time she touched him like this, he knew he had cursed himself. He knew he would be damned, growing hunger for that, fonder for her. She had scared him, and yet, proved herself to be exactly what he needed.

He broke the kiss this time, not being able to contain the smirk when he saw her drunk eyes, even though he was for sure laughing at himself too.

“I love you.”

She melts against him, smiles brightly. He does not know why he waited so long to say it, but he is usually like this, takes too long to say something important.

“You’re not her.” He finds himself saying, surprising the both of them, “you’re not her shadow.”

She nods, Thomas sees her blooming right in front of him. He feels something settling in his chest, his mind getting quieter, a miracle for its own, but even more special when he feels it because of her.

Please. He thinks as he gives a peck on her lips. Don’t ever say you’re a mere ghost, when I love you this much.

The wind was still stirring the flowers and leaves of the field, and the field was still the same, same as the sun shining in the sky. But somehow, everything seemed more right.

#ely writes peaky blinders #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x fem!reader #peaky blinders x reader

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look-at-the-soul · 20 days ago

Text

More than that

Tommy Shelby x reader (Modern)

Master list

Summary: Tommy inherited something unexpected, but that will lead him to meet someone who’s looking a match for her own inheritance.

A/N: I think sometimes I write things that are out of a fairytale and there are times where I just need to write something like this, in an attempt to pour my heart and soul. This little story has been for a while in my mind but finally I was able to put it out there for you to read so bear with me if you notice a bit of nostalgia until Miss Sunshine shows up.

Word count: 2.5 K

To my niece, Ada… I want you to have my personal belongings like jewelry, clothes, keep what you like and donate the rest.

Everyone but him have been mentioned already in Polly’s will.

Shifting uncomfortably, he folded his arms as a way to protect himself.

And to my nephew, Thomas you can keep my china cabinet.

The lawyer’s voice drifted away. A chuckle escaped his lips thinking it was a joke.

“That would be all, if you agree I just need your signature and we can start the process to change the name in the properties.” The man added taking off his glasses.

A china cabinet. It had to be a fucking joke.

She was still mocking him, even after passing away.

Looking at his siblings, Ada gave him a sympathetic glance, Arthur walked towards him.

“Maybe she liked that cabinet so much.”

Tommy scoffed. It was like getting a hard slap.

But he couldn’t blame his aunt after all, she gave away her belongings the best way she thought. And he didn’t need any money.

“I’ll send someone to get it tomorrow.” He stated waving them goodbye. “Mr. Slate, can I speak to you for a few minutes?”

Tommy rolled his neck to stretch it as the lawyer asked him if he needed something.

“I need to change my will. Add my son Duke instead of Ruby. Half and half of everything.”

“Alright Mr. Shelby I’ll prepare the draft and send you the papers.”

Thanking him, Tommy walked away.

Lizzie had already asked for divorce and this time around he signed the papers without a second thought. In a very short period of time, he found out about Duke, lost Polly and Ruby, divorced Lizzie and Charlie moved out of Arrow House with her.

He was done.

Going home didn’t sound so appealing, he was by himself so instead he marched towards the Garrison for a drink.

****

Y/N arrived home, it was a bit strange to be back this early but she had asked to get the day off work to be able to do all of the things she had written down. It had been a busy morning, she finally took the bag full of clothes to the donation center, allowed herself to visit the dentist office and crossed the entire city to pick up the only thing her uncles let her inherit from her grandmother.

Carrying the box with extra care and love, she placed it on the kitchen table. She had every piece carefully wrapped in bubble and of course it was heavy, her arms were aching but she didn’t want to give them the chance to take it away from her.

Somehow they decided after not taking care of their own mother that they’d sell the house where Y/N lived all her life with her grandmother and divide the money between the three of them, leaving her no choice but to move out immediately. They barely visited her in the last ten years and if they did, it was for no longer than twenty minutes. When papers turned around and it was her turn to take care of her grandmother, Y/N didn’t even hesitate, didn’t ask them for any money for medicines or food, she took full responsibility and now she didn’t just lost her grandma, but her home as well.

Her uncles didn’t even thank her for all the years she devoted herself to look after her grandma, didn’t ask what or how she’d do now so she rushed to get a flat as soon as possible and tried to go on with her life.

Life isn’t fair sometimes, but she felt at peace with the fact that she was always there for the woman who gave her everything.

And now every time she sees her china set on display, she’ll think about her dearly grandma.

“Just let me find somewhere to put it first.” Y/N whispered out loud, her eyes laying on the photograph of the two of them.

“I miss you every day.” Y/N admitted. She had been learning to sort the grieving, it came and went as waves. “Would you mind giving me a sign to know that you’re still around?”

She asked finally, dealing with the lump in her throat.

****

As days went on, Tommy had forgotten all about the cabinet, until one day the hallway towards his office was packed with his siblings and secretaries trying to hang a garland to decorate for the holidays.

He tried to squeeze through the people but his coat got stuck in something.

“For fucks sake!” He muttered, earning a look from everyone around. “Someone take this fucking thing of here or I will.” He warned slamming the door to his office.

A few seconds later his sister walked in without even knocking.

“What’s the matter Tom?” Ada leaned against the window. “You can talk to me.”

But Tommy remained quiet covering his mouth with his knuckles and shaking his head.

It was getting harder and harder to see how little by little a family member passed away. He missed them all so much, more than he would actually express out loud.

He wondered what they’d say or do under certain circumstances. He missed their voices.

“I’d keep the cabinet but I can help you sell it online at least.” Ada offered, realizing her brother wouldn’t let her in.

“Do whatever you want, but get it outta here by the end of the week.” He advised in a serious tone grabbing a lighter and a cigarette.

“Can I use your phone?”

Without a second thought, Tommy placed it on her palm, not even bothering to ask about what she’d do.

A couple of minutes later, she walked in again handing his phone back.

“There you go, you’re welcome.” She added playfully. “Perhaps you should try one of those dating apps?”

Tommy shot her a death stare, his eyes saying more than his mouth could.

“Jesus, really get a girlfriend, a one night stand, anything.” Ada rolled her eyes and her heels clicked against the floor when she started to walk away. Her brother really needed something good in his life and he needed it right away.

Rolling his eyes, he let out a low scoff.

“Ada, please… mi life is a fucking chaos, a relationship, a woman it’s very demanding I don’t have time for that.”

With a smirk, his sister gave him a look. “The thing with love, Tom it’s that it happens when you less expect it.”

And with that, she left him alone with her words hanging around.

Tommy decided to get busy with some emails, as the holidays were around the corner, vendors would start to delay delivering and he wanted to keep busy for his own sake, the upcoming holidays were also a reminder of those who weren’t alive anymore, and he had a long list of beloved people missing.

It was dark when he decided to head back home, everyone had already left the office and once again, his loyal maid Frances was the only one there to welcome him.

“Your tea, and the bills Mr. Shelby.” She announced keeping a worryingly look.

“Thank you Frances.” He gave her a solemn nod.

Frances pondered whenever to ask her boss or not, but gathering the courage, she took a step closer.

“Mr. Shelby just wanted to ask you if we’re decorating the house?”

Tommy pondered for a few seconds he hadn’t think about it, it wasn’t like previous years, he felt like doing nothing. “Yeah, why not?”

Frances nodded and excused herself. Perhaps the decorations would help him cheer up a bit, he had been looking so sad lately, losing people had been taking a toll on him. So she decided to have everything ready as quickly as possible.

Tommy in the mean time decided to go into his own home gym to relieve some of the stress.

***

Finally he heard noise outside his office, the laughs would start any minute now, he already knew the routine by heart, people passing by with coffee, chatting about their plans for the upcoming days…

Staring at his phone he was reading the news focusing entirely on the business section, his free hand moved around his desk not realizing he was about to spill his drink.

“Shit.” Tommy hissed catching the glass right before it made a mess all over his papers. A few drops made it to his suit, but his laptop and documents were safe. Downing the rest of his drink, Tommy strolled to get a couple of napkins.

He was distracted to the point of almost bumping into someone.

“Oops.”

“Shit, sorry are you alright?”

“Yeah, you? I didn’t see you coming.”

Giving her a second look, Tommy felt paralyzed. “Should hang a sign to warn people I usually storm off like that.” He joked nervously, the woman before his eyes was more than eye-catching, but when she smiled shyly by his words, he felt like imagining a million ideas to see her smile again.

“God this is a total beauty. I can’t believe this, it-it’s perfect! Are you sure it’s free?”

Tommy arched one of his eyebrows, feeling confused. He could see she was excited beyond words about it.

“The woman who posted it, said it was free,” then giving him another look she gasped. “Ohmygooood! Is there some dispute over this piece or something?”

Still trying to understand, Tommy rubbed his chin absently. “Why don’t we start from the beginning so we can both understand what’s going on? I’m Thomas. Tommy.” He extended his hand at her.

“Y/N.”

Showing her the way to his office, Tommy thought how her personality was one of kind, she seemed so joyful and happy.

Closing the door, Tommy cleared his throat. “So you talked to my sister, Ada.”

“Yes she announced it on market place, replied me immediately it was available.”

For a few seconds, Tommy pondered about it in silence. Placing together the pieces of the puzzle in his mind, still trying to understand how did this happened because everything happened so fast but then he had a flashback to the day when Ada asked for his phone he had warned her to get rid of it within a week but she insisted on at least two weeks. In the end he gave in.

“Can-“

“Do you-“ she started to say at the same time, waving her hand to give him the chance to speak.

“Can I ask you why do you want this so bad?”

It was a simple question, but to Y/N it was harder to explain.

“I need somewhere to place the China set I got from my grandma.”

“She gave it to you?” Tommy asked with curiosity.

“She passed away, my uncles decided it was my inheritance.”

“Sorry didn’t want to be noisy. Well you can have it.”

“May I ask how you got it as well?”

“As a matter of fact, it’s my inheritance as well. From my aunt, I think she got it from her mother.”

Tommy explained with the hint of a smile appearing on his lips.

She could already see the cabinet filled with her delicate set, the paper in the background was gorgeous, the handles…

“It’s quite vintage… are you sure you wanna give it to me?”

“I don’t see myself placing a fancy China set, so yes.” Tommy stared at her confusion. “She did that to mock me, she actually had bunch of money, divided it between her son and my sister.”

“She sounds like a remarkable character.”

Tommy nodded, she was.

“Well, like my grandma used to say always bless anyone who makes something good for you, and even those who make you bad… I hope you get a million blessings back Mr. Shelby.”

Tommy pondered on Y/N’s words and how much it spoke of her. She was assuming he was a good man because he gave her something.

“I doubt I’ll get any, but thank you.” He chuckled.

Y/N shook her head but look in a different direction, the was something about him that made her feel nervous, safe but nervous.

“Would you give me a couple of days to hire someone to move it to my place?” Y/N asked.

Before she could even finish, Tommy was already shaking his head and pressing a few buttons on his phone. “It’s all settle, my men will do the delivery tonight.”

“I can’t accept that, you’ve already done enough.” She felt mortified, he could see it.

Unlike him, Y/N’s eyes were shining, she owned some kind of internal light that was illuminating everything she touched.

She was lighting the darkest parts of his soul.

“How could I ever repay you?” She wanted to desperately give him something in return for all the happiness he was giving her.

And in an instant, his eyes shone. And it was the most beautiful thing to watch.

“There are two ways I can think of.” Tommy walked towards the bar and took his time to light a cigarette. “Once you’ve it placed and decorated, invite me over to see how it looks.”

Y/N stared at him, her mind in blank he was taking off the jacket of his suit and she was able to admire how attractive he was, his hair was a mix of dark with pepper and salt, he had an impressive figure and she didn’t even want to start with his face so she had to shake her head a little bit to compose.

But there was a sadness in his eyes that made her heart ache.

“Consider it done. And the second one?”

Tommy took his time, trying to put into the right words what was crossing his mind.

“You know, Y/N… at my age after a wife that passed away and a divorce you’d think I’m a picky man… but I’m not, we’ll I am,” he chuckled, “but at certain level and one thing I’ve learned with time is how I no longer want to waste it in the wrong things, the wrong people.”

Y/N was captivated by his velvety voice, she felt like she was under some kind of spell, like she could only nod to everything he’d say.

“So after that long speech, let me tell you I’ve learned to recognize an opportunity when I see one, and I know those only let you get on the train once in a lifetime. So my second request is to ask you if you want to have dinner with me.”

Y/N mumbled something incoherent, she felt nervous but moved by his words. She had only came to collect the china cabinet and somehow ended up with an unexpected date with a man that wasn’t just handsome but generous.

“I think that’s a bargain I can’t miss.”

Tommy fixed his eyes on her then, and for the first time he felt like he had a reason to smile.

Something told him meeting Y/N wasn’t just by chance, there had to be something more than than.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little piece. I’m trying to clean my drafts as quickly as possible 🤶🏻🎄✨ remember your feedback is the most precious gift I could get xx

Tag list

@lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney

@gretelshelby @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan

@stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts

@moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @narlytude @winchestergirl22

@zablife @elk96 @blondie-22 @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144

@peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @lau219

@adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @lauren-raines-x

@everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @red-riding-wood @lovemissyhoneybee @theendlessvoidofdarkest

@wannabeperfectionists-blog (can’t tag) @yeppaweshallsee (can’t tag) @skydisneylover (can’t tag) @holacia3 @galactict3a @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts

@justrainandcoffee @mythicalcowboyatheart @jbrownta @cljordan-imperium

If you want to be added/removed from the tag list let me know

#that’s what Cill said #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #modern tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders fan fiction #modern peaky blinders #tommy shelby x fem!reader #thomas shelby imagine #modern thomas shelby

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the-fandom-is-now-my-life · 4 months ago

Note

🎏 — in love with the ghouls as cats 🥹 i am curious tho, how do you think they'll get along with MC also as a cat?

This is kind of a mix between how they react at first and after some time

Neuter him 🚫

These cats seem to notice that the newest cat is single and don't like that. Depending on who it's from this list this might reflect as fighting other suitors or licking the mc clean and demanding attention.

Jin

Kaito

Sho

Towa

Haku

Rui

Your his baby 🥺

These cats have a strong drive to protect whatever they perceive as weaker or smaller than than them or the mc hangs around the kitten they take care of enough for them to be part of the pack.

Thoma

Luca

Alan

Haru

Return them to the street 🛑

These little ones don't feel at ease with the new presence in their home out of nowhere. For some it might be territorial behavior, shyness or just having to divide their owners attention even more. Divided in those who hate the new cat or those who are skittish.

Leo

Ren

Romeo

Lyca

Subaru

Yuri

Unique reactions ✨

Taiga: his first reaction is to strike at them and sniff them for a while before letting them go, he does this the first few times they enter his field of vision.

Ritsu: no reaction but will follow them for a while and hiss and meow at them when they break a rule or do something wrong.

Zenji: he LOVES his new housemate!! Will chase after them regardless of where they go and they are now forced to hear his lengthy songs.

Ed: he is an old soul cat who only wants to nap and eat, as long as they don't bother him too much he will put them in the ‘kitten’ group even if they are an adult cat

Jiro: baby literally doesn't care, he is happy with having his doctor ordered food and a home to sunbathe in.

#tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker x reader #tokyo debunker alan #alan mido #tdb haku

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chiriwritesstuff · 1 year ago

Text

Meet Me at the Farmers Market! - 1. Jealousy, Jealousy

Farmers Market! Joel Miller x Confident! Plus Sized F! Florist Reader

Series Masterlist

Series Summary: What does a Contractor do in his spare time? Sell his wood carvings at the Saturday Farmers Market, of course! A Grumpy x Sunshine Joel Miller series collective of one shots, Updates every Saturday!

Rating: M

Word Count: 1063

Warnings: Jealous! Joel Miller, Tommy is a meddling little shit, Reader likes to ogle her too-hot market neighbor (I mean, who wouldn't?!) no outbreak! Verse Joel Miller, everyone has asses that just. Don't. QUIT!!!!

Summary: Tommy thinks y'all should stop dancing around your feelings for each other and just date already.

A/N: Hello there!

This is completely a self-indulgent fic! I was completely blown away by all of the interest in this series, and I want to thank every single one of you who has liked and reblogged my series masterlist so far!

This isn't going to be in a linear format or have continuous chapters, but will be more of a short-story format between the lives of Joel and his Sunflower. Hope you all enjoy!

Divider by the lovely @saradika

"You know, I think you guys should date."

As Tommy helps you unload a basket of baby's breath from your van, you look at him and ask, "Is that right? Pray tell, Thomas Miller, Why do you think that?"

"Well, for starters, you're crazy about him," he replies, waggling his eyebrows. "I can see how you stare at him like he's the finest cut of meat at Whole Foods. I should get you a drip cloth for all that drooling you be doing," he chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest.

You roll your eyes and shove a bucket of single-stemmed roses into his chest. "Oh please. I think it's more concerning that you just compared your brother to a piece of meat," you say as you place a checkered tablecloth on your foldable table, preparing for the morning market.

"His head is definitely full of it," he laughs. "Besides, I think he's crazy for you too."

You laugh and reply, "All he does is complain that my tent is encroaching on his 'walk space' and how my bouquets attract all the bees. I don't think he's said one nice thing to me since I started vending at the market."

"Don't you know that the more you hate, the more you love?" he teases. "I know my brother," Tommy says, motioning towards your grumpy, yet attractive, next-door vendor. Joel, in his green flannel and almost too-tight jeans, it's criminal, really, how nice his ass looks in them - finally acknowledges the two of you with a roll of his eyes.

"Tommy," Joel yells across the way, "I could use some help, once you're done flirting with little miss Sunflower over there," he says, placing his crate on his table with a little more force, mumbling to himself as he calls for Sarah.

"See? He's jealous. Thinks I have the hots for you," Tommy appraises your form, whistling. "I might have mentioned how you looked really nice last week, you know, in your denim cut-offs. And he might have mentioned that you had an - and I quote - ass that just doesn't quit."

"He did not!" you reply as you playfully whack his arm with a towel. "Come on, help me with this sign so you can go back to Mr. Grumpy Butt over there. Wouldn't want him grumbling about how I stole his brother…"

"He's a big boy, he can manage. He only has those little critters that he carves, and you have buckets of flowers. I'd like to think that my services are better utilized here, don't you think? I mean, look at him!" Tommy motions to Joel, who has stopped setting up his stand and is openly glaring at the both of you, his hands clenched and knuckles turning white. "I'm doing you a favor, honey bee. He's just shy under all of that grumpy ass attitude. Just ask him out, see where it goes." Tommy crinkles his eyes at you as he pats you on your head.

You swear you see Joel looking at the both of you as Tommy winks at you and heads back to his 'Reclaiming Miller' stand.

"What kind of a business name is that?" you think to yourself, chuckling as you close the doors of your van.

Later, as the market comes to a close and you place the final empty bucket into your van, you walk over to Joel's 'Reclaiming Miller' stand as he folds a tablecloth.

"Do you need a hand?" you ask sweetly.

"I got it," he replies with a grunt, dismantling his fold-up table and propping it against his truck. "It's funny," he adds, glaring at you, "that Tommy is nowhere to be found when I need help but magically appears once your van rolls in," he shakes his head. "Why don't you put him out of his misery and just ask him out?"

"… sounds like you're jealous, Mr. 'Reclaiming Miller'."

"Trust me, I'm not," he replies, rolling up the sleeves of his flannel as he tries to accommodate the Texas heat. You try very hard not to ogle the veins that run down his arms, swallowing as you try to remain indifferent to the very hot, grumpy man in front of you. You had a crush on Joel ever since you started the Saturday markets, approaching your new neighbor with a small bonsai tree as you introduced yourself. He took it from your hands carefully, inspecting it with a bit of wonder in his eyes. "Your tent is three inches off from your marker, by the way," he replies as he places the bonsai off to the side of his display table. "You might want to get that checked out, don't want to get a fine or anything like that." You decide then that he's one of those vendors, the ones who are sticklers for the rules and complete nightmares to those around them, but yet…

He is rather nice to look at, you think.

"… why would I ask someone I'm not interested in out on a date, Joel?" you reply, approaching him. "I mean, he did tell me that you thought I had an 'ass that just doesn't quit'," you say in his ear, tiptoeing up to his broad form, "is that what you really think, Miller?" you tease, his Adam's apple bobbing. "What if I want to ask you out? What would you say? Would you say yes? Because I think I would like that if you did."

But then, to your surprise, he smiles.

"… I thought we already got past dating, Sunflower," he replies as he kisses you, soft and sweet. His hands grab your hips as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. His hands travel to your ass, squeezing them as he groans into your kiss.

"Besides," he adds, "You know damn well how much I appreciate this ass." He winks, slapping it for good measure.

“Yeah, yeah, Miller. I'll see you at my place later?” you say as you head over to your van. “It's your turn to choose the movie tonight, if it's a good one you might just get laid” you tease.

“Oh baby girl, I'll get mine regardless, don't you worry,” he replies hungrily, waving as he enters his truck. “You just wear that thing I like, and I'll make it worth your while, promise.”

“You better!”

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x plus size reader #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller imagine #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #tlou fic #joel miller x oc #joel miller x y/n #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction

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don1t1red · 5 months ago

Text

Honestly, one thing about DotO which always bothered me is how Billie seems to be so lonely in her journey. And not in a way of "she is a lone-wolf" but in a literal sense of loneliness and not-belonging. It almost feels like it is her first day in Karnaca, a city where she doesn't know a single thing or person. Which isn't true. I know that a lot of people have already talked about this, and so I won't jump into the depth of criticism. Treat this post as a bunch of thoughts which occurred to me in my first playthrough.

Firstly, there is no recognition from different people. Stilton, for example. In DH2 she was ready to battle her way to his house and help him, she payed with her blood, her eye and her arm. And yet in DotO we don't see any valuable mentions of this man. Yes, we have a photo in her cabin but that's it! Nothing more nothing less, just a photo which exists in the cabin only to show us, the player, the Void rifts. Almost like it was never meant to actually represent their relationship, just a funny mechanic of the game.

Maybe I don't understand her character to that extent but when I firstly played and heard Billie's monologue about the state of the Dreadful Whale, I had a thought. Was there no one who could help her with that? And my first thought was Stilton, especially after I saw their photo together. But alas she didn't mention anything like that which was completely fine… till the The Stolen Archive mission. With a plot progression things became absurdly stupid. Billie learns that the cult uses Shindaerey as their hideout. And what is Shindaerey? It's a literal mining quarry.

And so you want to tell me that Billie who I know, cunning Billie, who was, by Daud's words, extremely good at unsolving mysteries, won't at least ask Stilton about this quarry? She won't ask a mining baron of Karnaca? Really? Give her skills some credit! I'm not asking for a 5 minute long cutscene but at least a small panel in the pre-mission briefing where Billie talks to him about that, and where we can see how worried he is for her. She is not alone and, no matter what, there is still at least one person who remembers her, sees her and wants the best for her. But again, for whatever reason Billie has no valuable connections in this game, it seems. So it didn't happen.

Two other people about which I keep thinking about are Thomas and that person who borrowed Billie's skiff and returned it during the Follow the Ink mission.

If that note from a certain T. was actually from Thomas I can't think of good enough reasons not to include some of the letter which might happen in between them during the events of the game. Thomas knew that both Billie and Daud were in Karnaca but he didn't know that Daud had died. And honestly an unfinished letter from Billie to him where she tries her best to write about their master's death but just can't - would be absolutely gut-wrenching and insightful. Also it could be interesting to see the difference in how Billie is talking about this event and how she is living through it in reality. Because - obviously - people's internal and external dialogues would be different and seeing that difference in Billie would help us, the player, to understand some shapes of her character.

Or maybe Thomas would learn about Daud's death himself somehow, maybe he could recognize Billie's work as she goes though the city to uncover its secrets. And, finally, it would be simply fun to find a small lootstach from Thomas on one of the missions, accompanied with a letter from him. How is he now? What are his thoughts about Billie? How do her actions are seen by the common folk? Or by the gangs? After all, a good character is not only divided by how the story sees that character but also how this character sees themselves and what other people in the story are thinking about this character. And, as I already said, this small letter exchange between Billie and Thomas could cover up those aspects.

And so we are left with only one character whose presence and absence in Billie's story bothers me. That person who borrowed the skiff. Because the skiff was Billie's main link between the shore and the Dreadful Whale. We learnt from DH2 that in any port there would be a “fee” for leaving the ship there, later, in DotO she complains that hiding her ship wasn't an easy task. So whoever borrowed it must be a good friend of Billie, as absence of the skiff puts her in a bad and potentially dangerous situation. Besides there is a note by a certain M., which talks about meeting with Billie later. I was kinda excited to see who this person might be. Someone whom I already know? Character from the first game? Maybe from the second one? Would it be a howler or black market dealer? Would they give me some special mission akin to one that Emily can get in the Royal Conservatory mission? Well, should I say that I was left wondering as there was not a single special NPC which met the criteria.

What? I forgot about someone? Deirdre? Oh, right. Deirdre. The best person in Billie's life and the worst death in Billie's memory. Right. It's almost too easy to forget that she exists, as Billie talks about her approximately two times in the game? More or less so. Should she talk more about her? Maybe, I don't know. But I remember thinking about using the rat charm in the Void or in the quarry. I thought that in the Void I could hear the real Deirdre speaking, this idea gave me chills back then. To adjust to the voice of your loved one's from rats, only to hear her cursing you for all you have done or to call you from beyond. I thought that she would appear somewhere in the Void, just in the corner of my vision. But again it didn't happen. And I don't know for better or for worse. As in the current state if you want to completely strip her out from the game - you won't lose a single thing. After all, a rat charm is just a rat charm, and so is a voice in it, as it never changes and never really speaks to Billie, it was never a personal matter.

Overall, I don't want to be another person who throws rocks at DotO as, honestly, I like Billie and I'm just… sad, I guess. I'm sad that the game about such a character fails to make me think more of her. I'm sad that the plot of this game was kinda ruined with a terrible script. And, at the end of the day, I'm just sad that Billies didn't get her chance to shine in her own game.

But nonetheless I still like Billie and, at least, her sarcastic comments on the surrounding was always a delight to hear, so I'm gonna replay this game one more time in vain hopes to find what I see in it.

#dishonored #death of the outsider #billie lurk #aramis stilton #thomas the whaler #i mean they are in this post so yeah why not #yes this post lacks bri but im gonna be honest with u guys #i completely forgot about her when i fistly played and this post is about my firts exp with this game so yeah #no bri slender i love her i just have bad memory #and i doubt i can bring anything new to her chara at this point of fandom meta talking #so yeah sorry :[#dt (stands for doni talks)

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sad-girl-hours23 · 1 month ago

Text

Thinking about Buck,

Still not over Tommy, deeply unsatisfied being under anyone else (he's tried and lost count how many times). His best friend has moved away; he's happy Eddie's working things out with Chris, but he misses them both terribly.

Amongst every one else, he feels...not so much a divide, but maybe less enmeshed than they used to be.

Nothing's wrong with his job, but well, it's starting to feel a lot less like his whole life and purpose and more like just that: a job. He's stagnant. Stuck.

He feels an itch under his skin that he can't scratch in any of his usual ways.

He's over pouring out his love into a Kitchen aid mixer. He's done trying to bury his need for connection into hook-ups.

Realizes maybe he's not as settled as he thought he was. Maybe he's still searching; but for what, he doesn't know. Himself. His purpose. Love.

Realizes he misses not being stuck in one place.

So he takes a vacation. Spends two weeks in Japan. Tells himself he won't create a full itinerary for his time there (he spends most of his flight doing so anyway, but he compromises with himself and leaves his second week open).

He reads about the Wind Phone. How people travel from all over to talk to their late loved ones through a rotary phone.

He doesn't go his first week there, but the thought of it is never far from his mind. (He's held hands with Death, he isn't sure what he's so afraid of).

He gets to the garden of Bell Gardia.

He thinks about Red Delacroix, who warned him against making firefighting his whole life. “You can be the hero and save lives, but don’t neglect having your own. Last thing you want is to be at the end holding nothing but regrets.” So he talks to Red; tells him he hasn't quite figured it out, is scared he never will.

He comes back the next day, Thomas on his mind. Buck tells him how he found his scrapbook the other day (he had forgotten that he'd even taken it). He tells him about Tommy, the love he thought he finally found (then lost). He smiles. "I know, I know. You don't find it, you make it." He can't help the crack in his voice "I really thought we were."

Buck wonders what it says about him that he's spending his vacation talking to the dead. Knows he's not done yet

He comes back the next day, and the day after that, and the one after that. He talks to Daniel each time. He isn't quite sure how to picture him; the age he was in the last photos taken of him, the age when he died, the older Daniel that his coma dream imagined up? He talks to them all.

He gives him the abridged version of his life. Wonders if he should leave out the parts he knows would break his brother's heart, leaves them in anyway. It's cathartic; to confess of the survivor's guilt he's carried since learning of Daniel, how it all came flooding back when woke up from his coma, how it felt like he was letting him down again in the interest of his own survival.

He's certain he's out of tears, and he may not have a voice left by the end of his trip.

But he's got one more phone call to make. And he can't make it here, in this haunted phone booth. And he doesn't want to wait until it's too late.

He hasn't figured it all out. He doesn't know where him and Tommy went wrong. He knows they're both haunted by their own ghosts.

But Tommy's still here. And unlike Buck's ghosts on the other end of the phone, he can talk back.

So Buck does what he should have done months ago. He calls Tommy. He nearly sobs in relief when he hears a breath on the other end and a quiet, "Evan?"

#why is this so long lol oops #evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy #sad girl hours musings

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invis-o-william · 8 months ago

Text

Day 2: Wish

All Amity Parkers knew that “wish” was practically a forbidden word. Years of interactions with Desiree had all but guaranteed that. Younger children weren’t even taught the word anymore out of an abundance of caution, after all nobody wanted a repeat of the “Toddler Wish-mageddon” that had occurred just a year prior. The firemen had been cleaning chocolate syrup out of the streets for weeks afterwards. This left the naive and unassuming newcomers as targets for Desire’s power, many of whom didn’t quite believe the city moniker of “The Most Haunted Place on Earth” yet. One of those newcomers was Thomas Kincade, and one way or another he too would learn the consequences of the word “wish”.

. . .

Thomas had barely lived in Amity Park a week before his coworkers started messing with him. He had just been sitting down in the breakroom for lunch when Craig from accounting had sidled up in the next chair.

“Oh hey Tom,you’re new to town, right?” he asked while grabbing a bowl from his bag.

Thomas hummed an affirmative while digging through the box chock full of leftover lo mein that his wife had left him that morning. “Yeah, just moved from Springfield like a week and a half ago, why? Also, it's Thomas.”

Craig pointed a fork his way, “Well you should probably invest in a lunch bag or something. That box is a prime target for the Box Ghost you know. He’s usually pretty harmless, but he’ll definitely steal that thing in a heartbeat if he sees you with it man.” He accentuated his point by tapping on said box with his fork.

Thomas sighed. Although he’d only lived in the city for under two weeks, he’d already seen more than enough of the “ghost tourist trap” schtick. “You can give the “ghost” thing a rest Craig, I think I’ll be fine.” he said with a roll of his eyes.

Craig shrugged, “Alright Tommy, don’t say I didn’t warn you. You transplants never quite believe it at first anyway.”

“It’s Thomas.” Thomas said pointedly. Craig made a noncommittal noise before digging into his meal.

. . .

The next day it happened again. Thomas was working at his computer when his deskmate Maria leaned over the divider.

“Hey Tim, did you see the news this morning?” she asked excitedly.

Slightly irritated, Thomas looked up. “No, I didn’t. And it’s Thomas.”

Maria didn’t seem to hear him as she waved her hands around, “They got some footage of the fight between Phantom and that big metal ghost last night on the corner of Park Place and Amity Row! It looked so intense, and the big ghost is so cool looking!” She practically squealed the last words.

Thomas groaned and let his head fall back. “Look, I get it, you guys are pulling my leg, ‘ha-ha lets haze the newbie’ kind of stuff, but its getting old.”

Huffing, Maria crossed her arms. “How long have you been here now? Two weeks? You can’t tell me that you haven’t seen one of the ghosts yet! Hell, blob ghosts are so common I’m surprised one hasn’t popped into your yard yet” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Just hope you don’t encounter any big ones, you definitely don’t want to run into the Fenton’s with their tank-on-wheels.”

With a sigh and a shake of his head Thomas turned back to his work as Maria shrugged and did the same.

. . .

Thomas was getting fed up. Everyone kept talking about ghosts. “Phantom’s been seen here” and “The whisps have been really active lately” and all that crap. How long was everyone going to pull this? Not to mention that nobody wanted to call him anything but nicknames. Why was calling him Thomas so hard for them???

The last straw was his boss stopping by his desk an hour before quitting time.

“Hey Timbo, everyone on the floor is going to head over to the Mitty Boulevard Bistro after work for dinner, company’s treat. Want to join?” he said, leaning an arm on the desk divider.

Thomas’ eye twitched. “Yeah, sure that’s fine. And please. It’s Thomas.”

His boss smiled, “Great! Originally we were going to head over to the Mexican place on Park Place, but they’re closed for cleanup from that ghost fight last night.”

“Yeah! You can thank Phantom for that, honestly the Bistro is sooo good. I like Mexican food and all, but you gotta try the Bistro’s fries Tim!” Maria said, perking up from her seat.

Thomas had had it. “Ghosts this, ghosts that! I’m so sick of this! Just give it a rest already! And my name. Is. THOMAS. Not Tim, not Tommy, just Thomas!” he cried as he picked up his coat and lunch box. “If this is how all of you are going to treat me, then count me out of the dinner. Honestly I wish you guys would just cut it out already!”

Everyone in the office went deadly silent and stared at Thomas with wide eyes.

“Thomas,” began Maria, “you shouldn’t say that word. I’m sorry that we were teasing you so much about your name, but you really shouldn’t say that word.”

Thomas scoffed, “What word?”

Everyone looked around nervously, “The “w” word,” his boss said, “there’s a ghost who grants them, usually in the worst ways possible.”

Thomas threw his hands up in the air. “What, wish? Now you’re telling me that there’s a wish-granting ghost? If there was, I'd wish she’d make you all see sense right now because ghosts aren’t real!”

The office was deadly still and many held their breath. There was always a chance Desiree wasn’t around, but some still expected her to appear and grant the wish.

Instead the Box Ghost popped in out of nowhere, grabbed Thomas’ lunch box, shouted “BEWARE!”, and vanished.

Thomas could say he knew better now to pack his lunch in a bag.

#dannymay2024 #dannymay #danny phantom #amity park #box ghost #desiree #oc characters #wish is a forbidden word for a reason

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metalhoops · 2 years ago

Text

Steddie Week Day 3:

Discover/ First Kiss/ Kiss on My List by Hall and Oates

Steve’s first kiss was with Tommy Hagen. He was eleven and neither of them had spoken about it since.

Steve’s first official kiss was with a girl named Melissa. He’d been fourteen, and she’d been a whole year older than him. At the time the twelve-month age gap felt like it spanned the length and breadth of the Indiana state lines. She’d smelled like Farrah Fawcett's hair spray and tasted like coconut lip balm. By the time he turned fifteen, he’d kissed half a dozen girls, and he’d felt the same Indiana-length distance between himself at fourteen and himself at fifteen. As the years went on, Steve lost count of the number of girls he’d kissed. Some mattered more than others.

At twenty, Steve was looking for quality over quantity, so he could count the number of girls he’d kissed in the last two years on one hand. Still, it surprised Steve to hear Robin and Eddie commiserating over their lack of any first kisses one afternoon at the family video store.

“Wait, so you’re telling me you two haven’t kissed anyone, ever?” Steve echoed, looking up from stacking the latest returned rentals, making sure he’d heard them right.

“You ever tried being a lesbian in a small town, Dingus?” Robin asked, leaning against the front counter. Eddie made a sound of agreement from his spot in the horror section.

Steve was sure Eddie liked men. He was doubly sure Robin knew, but neither had said anything to him about it, so he hadn’t pushed. It hurt, knowing Eddie had likely asked Robin not to tell him, but he got it. He’d been a dick in high school. He’d hoped Robin would be able to reassure Eddie he was cool with it, but he knew how people thought. Being okay with Robin being a lesbian and Eddie being gay were two different things. He’d wanted to assure Eddie he wasn’t like that, but he never knew how to broach the topic.

“I see your point but, it’s not... impossible. I mean- Eddie, you’re left-handed, right?” Steve asked out of nowhere.

Eddie stood on his toes to peer over the shelf of videos dividing them, taking a piece of his hair and toying with it between his thumb and forefinger.

“Yeah. Thanks for noticing?” Eddie breathed, sounding perplexed.

“I mean, everyone knows someone who’s left-handed, right? There were three people in our senior year who had those weird left-handed desks in Mrs Click’s class. So, ten percent of the population is left-handed, right? And ten percent of the population is gay. That’s gotta mean there’s at least one age-appropriate and available person to kiss in Hawkins. You’ve just gotta find ‘em and take the initiative,” Steve reasoned with a shrug of his shoulders. Eddie was giving him a disbelieving smirk.

“Did you just try to use math to tell Robin she’s got no game because she can’t find a girl to kiss? And here I was thinking you were an ally,” Eddie mused, resting his chin on the top shelf.

Steve shrugged and returned to stacking. The word ‘ally’ sat strangely with him.

“How old were you when you had your first kiss, Stevie?” Eddie asked curiously. Normally he’d say fourteen, but today he decided to tell the truth.

“Eleven.” Eddie let out a low whistle.

“That’s young. The Harrington charm actually worked back then, huh?”

Steve rolled his eyes and grumbled, ‘shut up,’ under his breath.

“Well, you can’t stop there, Casanova. What’s her name? I haven’t heard this story,” Robin chipped in, sounding intrigued.

Steve took a deep breath. He felt sheltered from the other’s eyes from where he kneeled behind the shelves. He decided it was time to tell the truth.

“Thomas,” Steve whispered, feeling a sudden tremble in his fingers.

The silence was deafening inside the video store. He could hear the distant call of birds and the screech of tires on asphalt drifting in from the outside world, but neither Eddie nor Robin made a sound.

Steve felt like a dying star, moments from collapse. His shoulders were hunched and his breaths were uneven. It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision. Only after the words left his mouth had he thought how badly the confession could go.

Steve felt the weight of a body pressed against his back and Robin’s thin arms wrapped tightly around his middle, holding his shaky frame together.

“Thomas, as in Tommy H? Total dud, dude,” Robin breathed, her face tucked into the crook of his neck. Steve tried not to fall face-first into the ‘Action’ section as her weight bore down on him. It was comforting. He chuckled and nudged his face against her.

“Yeah, total dud,” He agreed.

“Is there room for one more in there?”

Steve looked up to find Eddie crouching in front of the two, awkwardly pretzeled together, half on the floor of the video store. Steve gave a little nod and felt another pair of arms around him.

He wasn’t sure how long the three stayed like that. When they broke apart, it was almost closing time.

“I’m going to head out, guys,” Eddie uttered, looking as though he wanted to say more.

“Steve’ll walk you to the van, won’t you, Steve?” Robin prompted, looking between the two thoughtfully.

“I... yeah?” Steve mumbled. Robin shot him a thumbs up over his shoulder as he trailed after Eddie to his van.

Eddie’s eyes were fixed on the ground as he kicked dirt off his faded white Reeboks and buried his hands deep within the pockets of his jeans.

“Hey, Steve?” Eddie said, looking up for a moment to survey the empty parking lot, as though checking for the prying eyes of the cultist-hunting-jocks of years past.

“Yeah?”

“Tommy Hagan really is a shit first kiss,” He chuckled, taking a step closer. Steve snorted and raised a brow.

“Yeah, well, thanks for your input, dude.”

“You know who I’d choose for a first kiss?” Eddie asked, the air between them electric. The distant birds were silent, as though the sky were too thick to fly through.

Steve thought he knew where this was going, but he wanted Eddie to take his hand and lead him there.

Eddie’s ringed fingers brushed across his neck and pulled him closer.

“Go on then,” Steve pushed with a wicked grin.

“Take the initiative, Munson.”

That was all the prompting Eddie needed to push Steve roughly against the side of his van and crash their lips together. It was a proper first kiss, with the clumsy colliding of teeth, bumping of noses and awkward trade-off of tongues. It wasn’t the perfect kiss, but it was the perfect moment.

Steve wanted to teach Eddie the art of hands in hair and skin on skin. He wanted to find out what made Eddie tick, map out the parts of his body that made his toes curl and his breath grow shallow.

It was their first kiss, but Steve sure as hell wouldn’t let it be their last.

#steddieweek2023 #steddieweekprompts #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #first kiss #platonic stobin #robin buckley #stranger things #ficlet #drabble #writing #little bit shorter today #I'm trying to do this #work a masters degree and a crap ton of assignments #Metalhoops writes

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beauty-and-passion · 1 year ago

Note

sooooo, latest video

Well... it seems like there is a video XD

Jokes aside, thanks anon for letting me know Mr. Sanders posted a video that was Sanders Sides related. Kudos for that <3

Then... I have some thoughts about this video. Thoughts I will divide into pros and cons, to make everything easier to explain.

If you don’t like long posts or reading criticism of any kind, please save yourself (and myself) some time and ignore this post. I won’t get offended, I promise.

__________________________________

PROS

A real Aside

It looks like Thomas finally learned the difference between Asides and main episodes. It took him three years, but he finally realized that the Asides should be simple, no plot-related stuff. Good to see he finally got it.

(Still don’t understand why ATHD is a main episode, tho. It’s not plot-related and it’s very clearly more low-effort than FWSA and DWIT. Maybe Thomas didn’t want to leave it all by itself?)

-------------------

Some hopes for the characters

I was very relieved to see that the characters’ personalities are not completely butchered. There are a few things I will talk about in the cons section, but the overall vibe has stayed more or less the same. I’m especially relieved Virgil isn’t the fratboy he was in Thomas’ latest Instagram post, in which he talked all fratboy-esque and I almost expected him to bully me and steal my lunch.

The most in characters are Janus and Remus, which is nice to see too. Remus in particular, is still a chaotic rat man and I love him so much.

-------------------

Remus is my chaotic child

I personally think the best part of the whole video is Remus saying the others told him he could kill Bing Bong. I laughed so hard, I had to stop the video. That wonderful, chaotic rat man deserves to kill everything, as a treat <3

But actually, everything Remus says is great and that proves he’s the best, in this essay I will-

__________________________________

CONS

A weird start

Let me recap my experience while watching the video for the first time.

So, the video starts and I’m welcomed by this guy with an orange shirt and blue hat, all happy and excited. For a split second, I think he’s Patton… but then, a Patton-esque guy with a sweater appears.

Okay, now I’m confused because I have no idea what’s happening here and don’t know who these guys are - I mean, if sweater guy is Patton, who is the orange guy? The orange side was introduced and I missed it? What’s happening here? Who are they? Are those the Inside Out characters as seen by Thomas? Will these guys meet their Sanders Sides “counterparts”?

But then another guy appears and he looks like Janus, so now I’m really lost because, seriously, who are these people? They call each other by name so they should be the Sides, but they also call the orange guy “Joy”, so who is this guy? Who are they? Are they the Inside Out characters cosplaying the Sides? Or vice-versa? What’s happening here?

I got my answer, only when Virgil appeared and clarified this was all a weird roleplay.

I have several questions:

Was it really necessary?

Why?

No, seriously, why? The Sides are the first to admit they aren’t an exact match to the Inside Out characters, so why doing this? Why flatten their multifaceted roles and personalities to do this? Because Mr. Sanders isn’t able to handle them?

Okay, fine, I know why Mr. Sanders wanted to do this weird roleplay and it could’ve been fun to see the Sides acting as the Inside Out characters… if only the Sides’ personalities stayed the same. But since their personalities are not the same anymore, all the viewers feel are confusion and a weird sense of “something’s wrong here”, which they can’t exactly pinpoint.

-------------------

Wrong aesthetics and confused personalities

In order to explain this point, I will bring two examples: Janus and Roman.

First of all, Janus. I know, he’s our beloved sassy queen and we all love him… but his aesthetic in this episode was completely wrong.

Janus is a character who wears layers upon layers of clothing. That’s the first thing you get, the first thing that characterizes him. But in this episode, he wears nothing but a gilet and a scarf. He shows with bare arms, bare shoulders, a deep V-neck and doesn't wear his gloves: for his standard, he’s basically naked.

You can tell me: “It was to match Disgust’s dress”. But since Remus put his own color on the costume, why couldn’t Janus put his own twist too? He’s not doing a perfect cosplay after all. So why not wear a sheer shirt underneath the gilet, to mimic the “nakedness” without showing his skin? Or a greenish/yellow shirt to match both his and Disgust’s aesthetic? I know Mr. Sanders loves to show his skin, but since he created a character whose aesthetic is to not show skin, why “strip” him just to show some more skin? Did Mr. Sanders forgot this aspect of Janus’ character?

But if Janus had at least his face and personality to remind us who he is, Roman had nothing. Seriously, look me in the eye and tell me that, when you saw that guy in orange, you immediately thought: “Ah yes, here is Roman”. There was no way to recognize him, because he had nothing of Roman.

First of all, not a single drop of red anywhere. And I know, roleplay and whatever… but Mr. Sanders is a theater man. He knows the importance of colors. He created seven characters by associating a color to each of them. And yet, Roman appeared without a drop of red, while Remus had no problem turning Fear’s sweater into green.

That doesn't mean Roman had to turn full red, but he could wear a red accessory at least: a bracelet, a necklace, a pin on his hat, whatever. Logan’s tie was blue after all. Or wasn’t Roman allowed to put a twist on his cosplay? This weird roleplay session gives me more questions than answers :/

Second (and most important), Roman’s personality was nowhere to be found. This guy is a more obnoxious, forced version of Roman. When he talked, I didn’t see a person talking: I saw Mr. Sanders reading a script. Or better, screaming a script. Seriously, why was he so loud? Why was he screaming this much, during the roleplay session? I almost got a headache and I don’t get headaches so easily. Seriously, if I needed to hear him louder, I could’ve turned up the volume of my computer, no need to scream this much.

-------------------

The makeup and the importance of details

The dark sides’ makeup has been butchered.

Remus’ eyeshadow used to be of a deep dark black/blue/purple. So why is it so light? Because of the roleplay? But it’s still light after the roleplay. What happened, did Thomas finish the eyeshadow? It’s not too expensive, can’t he buy some more?

Same goes for Virgil: his eyeshadow is basically non-existent. And that’s even weirder, considering that in the Christmas episode, he said he wanted darker makeup to match the darkness of his soul. Does that mean his soul isn’t dark anymore?

And then, Janus. My poor, beloved Janus. His makeup used to be impressive, with scales of a deep green/yellow/brown hue: now they look more like a weird, yellow-y rash, with a thin black line crossing them (probably made with an eye pencil?).

I know Thomas doesn’t have the same makeup artist, but experts exist. And if the one he has isn’t doing their job well, then I’m sorry, but he should hire another one. That’s not being mean, that’s being real.

And before any of you says: “That’s just a detail, you’re being nitpicky”... sure, you can see it like that. But let’s say someone gives you a cake and when you see it, there are missing decorations, the fondant doesn’t fully cover the cake and the phrase “Happy birthday” is wonky. And when you eat it, it has a weird aftertaste too. Sure, it was a gift, but would you think “That was the best ever!” or would you think “Thanks, but you could’ve spent a little more time making it better”?

Heck, you can apply the same concept with this post too! If I posted something with incorrect grammar and misspelled words, would you be happy? Or would you think “man, you could’ve spent a couple more minutes to correct it”?

Skipping details doesn’t make me think you care about your work: it makes me think that either you’re lazy or don’t really care. And if you’re okay with something with missing details, good for you. But from someone with a certain degree of expertise/professionalism like Mr. Sanders, I expect something professional too.

-------------------

Subtle vs thrown in your face

I enjoy the “Janus being a wine mom” thing: it’s funny, it makes me smile, poor boy dealing with the little shits he has around, please give him wine.

But you know what’s really funny about this? That it’s subtle. It happens once in a while. It’s not thrown in the face. And it’s not thrown in the face like that, with Sides luring Janus with wine, almost as if he’s an alcoholic and you can use wine to make him do anything.

Also because the whole “Janus loves wine” thing doesn’t work too well with the functions he embodies. I mean, this guy is responsible for lies. Do you really think lies and alcohol work well together? You need to be extremely lucid and focused to be a good liar. And I don’t think I have to explain to you why alcohol and self-preservation don’t work well together either.

So seeing him with a glass once in a while is funny, but seeing him being all like “you promised me wine” as if wine is his drug… that’s not funny.

Speaking of things that are funny when not thrown in the face, let’s talk about “falsehood” too.

Just like the wine, falsehood was funny when it came once in a while. It wasn’t a switch you could press and bam, Logan says “Falsehood!”. It was a momentarily outburst because Logan’s main reaction isn’t to yell: Logan’s main reaction is to explain things by using cold logic. Because that’s who he is: logic.

So, when I see him dropping a “falsehood” like this, I don’t enjoy it. I feel it old and stale. And it saddens me too, because it looks like Thomas is using the easiest bait to get his fans’ attention. A bit like a bunch of dangling keys: see? Your favorite character says his catchphrase! Now laugh!

-------------------

Apollo gave me the gift of prophecy (or maybe it was just too obvious this would happen)

Right after Roman stops screaming, Virgil starts screaming. And he does it in the most out-of-character way, for the most out-of-character reason.

Since the Q&A episode from season one, Virgil was the first one to tell Thomas that Anxiety looks different for anyone and that he specifically chose the dark persona to keep “everyone’s guard up”.

So why is he complaining so much about a movie representation of Anxiety now? And why should everyone remind him that hey, Anxiety looks different for everyone? He should already know that. He was the first to tell that.

Do you know what this is? No, not a pathetic excuse to talk about a trending topic (i.e. Inside Out). It’s proof I was fucking right and of course I was, because I experienced it too.

What did I say in my old post about the problem with this series? That SaSi doesn’t have an outline. And what happens when you don’t have an outline and, instead of focusing on that project/writing an outline, you do 20 other different things instead? That more time will pass. And the more time will pass, the more you will forget things you already talked about.

Like, you know, a topic from season 1 that was clarified, over and done by the same character who now forgot it.

-------------------

The golden goose will never die

Call me a conspiracy theorist or just an old hag with a heart of stone. But I really would like to know the real reason why, deep down, Thomas made this video.

I doubt it was because he missed the Sides and wanted to do something with them. He doesn’t miss them the slightest, it’s quite clear. He doesn’t even care enough to remember what their personalities are supposed to be, how can he "miss" them?

But oh look, there was new merch to advertise. And Inside Out is a trending topic and the fandom knows about the association between SaSi and the movie. So if Mr. Sanders makes the right video at the right time, he can get a lot of views with minimal effort.

But he should advertise a shirt with all Sides in, so he can’t just make a video about Virgil reacting to a trailer: he needs all of the Sides to be there. So, let’s rush a video with the first idea that popped into his mind: that Virgil doesn’t like the Inside Out take on Anxiety.

Maybe that’s not what truly happened in his mind and behind the scenes. Maybe Mr. Sanders really just wanted to make a video with the Sides and I’m a cynical, heartless person. Personally, I would be way happier to know I was wrong and there weren’t ulterior motives behind this video.

But without any actual proof, I won’t believe this video was made just for passion. Passion doesn’t make you skip details. Passion doesn’t make you put on a sloppy video, without taking two more minutes to check if your characters are IC or the topic you want to talk about makes sense.

Believe me, I’m very sad to say this. I don’t want to think all of this. I always try to be optimistic and think good of people. But if this is what I get, how can I believe this video was made with good intentions and no ulterior motives? Especially since it’s coming from a guy who can be accurate, detail-oriented, and very subtle while acting? He did all of this in the past: now it looks like he forgot everything.

If you want to still watch this Aside, do it. If you enjoy it, even better. For me, that was just a tiny waste of time and it left me nothing except a momentary smile. At the end of the day, I don’t even care enough to watch it twice. And for me, that's a failure, coming from a series I used to watch on repeat.

#sanders sides #ask #ts criticism #I guess #thomas sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #logan sanders #at this point I'm just sad

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loganscroftersstash · 1 year ago

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hi guys mitzy here. back with a fucking BANGER post

with all the discussion about the finale and the video that released (that made me like cry) i figured now is as good a time as any to share my theories on the finale!!!!! keep in mind i am stupid and some of this may not make sense so, my bad in advance. also, spoilers for the newest life update video (if that needs spoilers, but just in case!!!)

1. i think the main driving event (based off the last asides and general details we know about c!thomas) is maybe c!thomas diving too far into the relationship too fast (i.e. telling nico he loves him, if i had to guess). roman is very obviously over excited, we know patton has little self control, and with c!thomas’ mental state it’s not irrational for him to cling on to any good thing that comes his way like a vice.

2. orange time. i know there’s A Great Divide™ between the orange side is anger/orange side isn’t anger debate but i honestly have to agree that i don’t think he’s anger. it feels too on the nose. i mean, so many thought roman’s anti was going to be pride and look where we ended up with that. it feels too easy to assume he’s anger. i’ve been doing a lot of discussing with my pals in the sanders fanders discord server and some other ideas could be insecurity, regret, someone even said addiction (bc logan is. totally normal guys), like there are SO many options that would make sense that aren’t anger.

3. i think orange’s name is going to be argos. this is mainly because of all the eye symbolism we’ve had with him and argos is heavily associated with being “all-seeing”. we also know the team absolutely LOVES their greek names. i have the least support for this but i also like it because its cool as fuck. also i did the least research for this like. ages ago so take it with a grain of salt. also, (apparently) in the greek testament of the bible (which we know thomas and the team love) argos is used to refer to leisure/being free from labour sooooo…. that’s cool…….

bye love you all!!

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #logan sanders #logic sanders #virgil sanders #anxiety sanders #remus sanders #dark creativity sanders #roman sanders #creativity sanders #morality sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #deceit sanders #mitzy analyzes #ts spoilers #ts orange side #ts orange

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edwinspaynes · 1 year ago

Note

give us those Thomas hcs please! he is high school era me fr

YEAHHHH OKAY Alexa cue Hey Stephen

Some of these are just Funny and Cute things that I want to have happened while others have canon basis

Thomas followed Alastair all over the school. A LOT. To the point that Matthew was calling him a little marble that rolls wherever Alastair is. He's standing in the corner of the room talking at Alastair after Clive dies, and they're the only two people there. It seems to me that Alastair did notice Thomas, and per Cassie, Thomas was one of the four people Alastair liked pre-ChoG (along with Cordelia, Sona, and the redhead). But "I didn't see you" and "you were just some boy" make me think that Alastair was like "okay this runt is following me around again but he's kinda sweet and a little earnest and is nice to me so. I like him" and just rolled with that. But Thomas was gone. Totally smitten with Cupid's arrow. And cue all sorts of opportunities for funny interactions.

Thomas keeping his journal about his daily activities and referring to Alastair only as "A". You know, to protect his privacy in case the metaphorical pink glittery lock is broken.

The journal also includes some bad early childhood poems about Alastair.

Thomas's internal monologue was basically the same now and then, though back then it was more innocent and just lacked the horniness. It was just the wholesome bits (that are still copious).

Thomas constantly tries to converse with Alastair and sometimes succeeds. When they talk, it's the highlight of both of their day even if they're not friends.

Thomas has dreams about kissing Alastair regularly. If you want more of this you can check out @vwritesaus fic what's in a kiss. Literally my comfort fic i read it like every week.

Thomas doodles "Mr. Thomas Lightwood" in his journal while thinking about Alastair. Alastair finds it and is largely confused why he's doodling his own name, but hey, alright.

He's also definitely doodled their wedding invitation.

Thomas does things like trip over his own feet and fall up the stairs when Alastair appears. Alastair doesn't get why but finds it endearing.

Not really a headcanon, but Thomas liked Alastair's teasing because he thought it was bold and daring. Matthew notes this in CLS, but I think it's why Thomas loves him so much. He respects it.

After a while, Alastair picking on Thomas becomes something of a joke between them. "Pipsqueak" is a good natured nickname.

Thomas and Alastair get paired up for a project once. They divide the questions in half and copy each other's answers because Alastair "isnt going to talk to the likes of him." But they sit together in a companionable silence the entire time and it's very comfortable, 0% awkward, and neither of them understand why they're so at peace. (I might write this fic sooner rather than later.)

Alastair primarily targets Thomas because he's friends with James, but he also does so to protect him from worse bullying/abuse at the hands of his vile friends of yesteryear. This may or may not be subconscious.

#thomas lightwood #alastair carstairs #thomastair #fave

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the-chosen-fanfiction · 2 years ago

Text

Philip | You, Always You | Romantic

Requested: Yes

Whilst reminiscing on the past, you realise the love of your life has always been right in front of you.

Forcing the yawn that threatens to escape back into your system, you rub your eyes tiredly as the light of the flames hurts your eyes. Seated against a log that digs into your spine, you pull one leg a little closer to your chest, hoping to get more comfortable.

The day has been long and tiring, with crowds of people constantly gathering around Jesus and requiring His attention. Although there is no better place than at the Messiah’s side, you are aware that all of you need rest from time to time, including Jesus Himself. Constantly staying alert whilst ushering people into fair queues whilst Jesus did His work was worth it yet physically draining.

Ever since returning to camp, all you’ve been yearning for is to crawl into your bedroll, drape over an extra pelt to keep warm and close your burning eyes. With a rich stew warming your belly, you feel your exhaustion creeping up on you as all of camp slowly starts calling it a day, most Disciples already having withdrawn themselves to their tents, and you are about to do the same when a familiar voice says your name.

You blink in surprise at Philip’s sudden appearance behind you and you turn to face him, your heart fluttering pleasantly at the sight of his smile. “Are you headed somewhere?”

“Well, yes,” you breathe, “I was about to go to bed, actually. Is anything the matter?”

Something sad flashes behind Philip’s eyes, but it is soon replaced by something hopeful. “Well, I was supposed to keep the first watch with Nathanael, but he fell asleep and I can’t get him to wake up.”

You chuckle at the image you can vividly imagine. “That’s typically Nath.” you laugh lightly, “Nothing new with him, hm?”

Philip grins and shakes his head. “He never changes in that regard.”

You hum and are silent for a second, staring at the flames whilst your heart is torn between two things – to call it a day or suggest to stay with Philip for a little while to keep him company – but his request decides for you: “Say, (Y/n), would you like to stay with me for a while? Otherwise, I’ll be so lonely during the first watch. It will only be about two hours until Thomas and Zee will be taking over.”

“Sure,” you tell him, your heart pleasantly skipping a beat. Spending some extra time with Philip is always a dream, but it also makes you worry that you’ll slip up one day, or that you would say something embarrassing that causes him to not like you anymore. For as long as you can remember, you’ve had the biggest crush on him, and the last thing you want is to ruin your friendship by running your mouth. “Where shall we sit?”

“I was thinking, maybe on the other side than where you are sitting right now? That way, we’ll have a better view of the plains.”

You agree to that and shift your position to the other side of the fire, where he takes a seat next to you.

A brief silence befalls you two and Philip is the first to break it. “I can boil us some water.” he suggests, “If you can pick a few herbs, we can soak them into it.”

“Of course,” you tell him, rising to your feet to gather some fresh mint leaves that grow in the shade of a rock formation, whilst Philip rummages around for a bit. You quickly pop a mint leaf into your mouth in the hopes of making your breath a little fresher, for if you’re talking in a low volume, he’s bound to get closer to you. The idea makes your cheeks flame.

After collecting enough sprigs, you return to his side, for Philip has already put on the kettle and has found two clean cups that he brushes clean from dust with the end of his tunic. “Here you go,” you say, handing him the mint leaves, which he divides evenly. You watch him work whilst getting comfortable. “I remember that we used to make this on days that we didn’t feel like going into town to buy food. When we were still with John, I mean.”

“I miss these days sometimes.” Philip muses, “The wild honey we’d add was so sweet, too. I remember your small obsession with the stuff.”

Blushing, you swat his arm. “Hey, I was not addicted to honey. Okay, maybe a little, but it was over as soon as I got stung in my mouth that one day.”

Philip laughs at the memory, swirling the water around the kettle carefully to distribute the heat. “Oh, yes, I remember that. You couldn’t eat properly for two days. Your extraordinarily chubby cheeks looked very cute on you though.”

Your eyebrows shoot up at the way he had considered you then, but Philip avoids eye-contact by pouring scalding water into the two cups, handing one to you carefully. His hand brushes yours in the process and you have to prevent yourself from startling too much lest you spill anything, your heart skipping a beat regardless.

“Luckily, it was only temporary. After all, such an experience is not recommended.”

Philip hums and blows some air into his cup. “I can only imagine, and I did feel really bad for you then.”

“You were basically panicking when it happened and my face started to swell up.”

He smiles. “Well, I couldn’t exactly help you in the same way you had helped me when we were children. Remember the incident with the tree branch?”

It takes you a moment to realise what he means, but when a memory about Philip being stung in his thumb after poking a beehive he had expected to be empty, you cannot fight the laugh. “I’ve never heard you scream that hard ever in my life, nor have you screamed like that after.”

Philip smirks and takes a careful sip of his drink whilst the two of you look at the fire. His upper arm snugly pressed against yours makes you soar, his proximity welcome, familiar.

“I do remember that you gave me a kiss on my thumb after removing the sting, and it was as if the pain was gone instantly.”

Your cheeks turn red; You had totally forgotten about that detail, and the fact that Philip still remembered made your gut swarm with butterflies.

“Well, I am glad to have been of service.” you try to hide your sudden abashedness. Philip lets out a pleasant sound, his knee hitting yours playfully.

“You know,” he starts, “I’ve often thought back on that moment.”

Flustered, you blink in puzzlement. “Oh? Why?”

Philip finally dares to look at you, his gaze containing something that you cannot quite place.

“Because it was the first time I ever had such contact with a girl.” Your heart drops, then tightens at the implication that he has been kissed by another girl later on in life. “Of course there have been moments during our teens that girls showed their interest by kissing my cheek, but none of them had evoked such a reaction as to when you had healed my thumb that day.”

With reddened cheeks, you avert your gaze. “Oh, well, I’m glad to hear that I’ve had such an impact on you.”

He smiles wryly. “You must think I’m weird now.”

You frown. “How so?”

“Because that was… How long ago? Twenty… Twenty-five years? And I still think about it from time to time, truth be told.”

You nearly drop your drink and carefully put it down on the ground beside you.

“Thank you for reminding me of that,” you muse, “I had completely forgotten about it.”

The glimmer in his eyes dies down. “Do you mean to say that it meant not as much for you as it meant for me?”

Regret immediately shatters your heart, you firmly shake your head, and you lean towards him. “No– No, of course not! I-I mean… Of course it meant something to me, but… Perhaps I was afraid of how much it would mean to me, so I pushed away the memory.”

Philip lets out a sound of confusion. “Afraid? Of what?”

You fall silent, embarrassment clawing at your throat. For a second, you scold yourself mentally – you should have gone to bed, now you’ve said something dumb that will potentially ruin your friendship, just what you had warned yourself about – before you open your mouth to respond.

“I don’t know.” you shakily say, eyelids fluttering as you force back your blush. “Why did you… Why did you never mention it again?”

Philip lets out a sad scoff and lowers his gaze, shrugging. “Well, I always thought you were going to get married to Boaz.”

“Boaz?” you let out a laugh, “Really? Where did you get that idea from?”

With genuine surprise on his features, Philip meets your gaze. “What…? Do you mean that you weren’t going to marry him?”

“No!” you chuckle, “Never even thought about it. I thought he was way too childish for someone who was nineteen and… Well, I wanted to reserve myself for someone else.”

Philip’s eyes widen. “Oh… What happened?”

For a second, you hesitate. “He never asked.” you say at last, which is the truth. “And I fear that he never will.”

The flow of your blood is so loud in your ears that you hope you’ll be able to hear Philip speak as he visibly mulls over the words. “Well, I think that man would be very lucky to have you as his wife, and if I ever run into him I’ll tell him he’s pretty stupid for letting you wait for so long. If it had been me, I would have asked you ages ago.”

You nearly choke on your own saliva. Is this a confession?

Suddenly short of breath, you bring your fingers to your lips to touch them, completely in shock. With your free hand, you reach for your tea, that has cooled down enough to be consumed.

“Are you okay? You’re a bit pale.” Philip worriedly queries when you remain silent. For a moment, you’re worried you’ll spit the drink back into the cup. You take a moment to gather yourself and try to come up with an answer.

Yes, this is a confession, you decide then and there. And you’d be dumb to let it pass.

“Then why haven’t you?” you break your silence.

Now it is Philip’s turn to grow flustered, momentarily confused with your words until he thinks it over. When everything seems to fall into place, his eyes shimmer with hope.

“Are you… What are you implying, (Y/n)?” He tilts his head slightly in question, as if he is still unsure.

You take a deep breath. “What I am trying to say is… The man who I was waiting on to ask for my hand in marriage was… Well, you.”

The silence between you two is heavy with unspoken emotion as you stare at one another, neither of you looking away.

“Really?” Philip croaks, “Am I… Am I dreaming?”

Laughing in relief, you shake your head. “No, Philip, I’m very serious and this is very real.”

His gaze flickers back to the flames and he runs a hand down his brow, grunting in frustration. “Oh, I am such an idiot. Have I been that blind?!”

You giggle and put a hand on his arm. “To be fair, I haven’t been very assertive myself, either.”

Philip hides his face in his hands and lets out another sound, still processing what he has just heard.

“Forgive me, (Y/n), I am just… Oh, forgive me for making you think I wasn’t interested, because I am. I have always been.”

“As have I,” you admit, “Since we were teenagers.”

“I’ve loved you since long before that.” His words are so soft that you nearly melt and his gaze meets yours, gently, patiently. “Please, forgive me–”

You cut him off lest he feel bad for any longer: “I have already forgiven you,” you breathe, “There is nothing to forgive, anyways. It turns out that both of us were too afraid to come forward with our feelings and misunderstood the other.”

Philip smiles and takes your hand in his. “Then please don’t misunderstand this, (Y/n).” he mutters, and your breath hitches in your throat as he moves forward slightly.

“Misunderstand what?”

“Marry me.”

Blinking rapidly, you try to comprehend what he has just asked you. When it takes you a few seconds to reply, Philip’s face falls into embarrassment. “I-I’m sorry if I am going too fast, I didn’t mean to pressure you–”

“Yes.” you interrupt, “Yes, I will!”

He exhales in alleviation before grinning from ear to ear, putting a hand over his mouth in disbelief. “Oh!” he murmurs, “Oh, that is… Yes! You’re serious! This is the best day of my life!”

You can’t help but laugh and scoot a little closer to him. “The best is yet to come, Phil.” you muse, and he softens, looking you in the eye.

“Feel free to say no, because it’s not really part of our customs, but… I’ve been wanting to properly kiss you for so long, and at this moment…” He sighs and cups your jaw, thumbing gently at your cheekbone. “I would love to just…”

His voice trails off, and you don’t reply verbally. Instead, you lean upwards to connect your mouth to his, for he has not been the only one to have mustered that desire for the last fifteen years.

Softly pulling you closer, Philip returns the sentiment, wondering why he has ever waited this long, and imagining a beautiful future with you at his side, promising you silently in this moment to always be there for you, like he always had been.

#the chosen #reader insert #the chosen x reader #x reader #chosen x reader #angel studios #the chosen philip #philip x reader #philip x you

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creativepawsworld · 2 years ago

Text

Silence - Chapter 33

Pairing = Thomas Shelby x Reader

Summary = Tommy and Ana have a rollercoaster of emotion to get through... yikes.

Warnings = Language, Gang Activity, Killing mentioned, Violence, Grammar, blood, injury. Hospitals. Racial slur (I am sorry I do try and avoid it as much as I can) Extreme Sexual Tension at the end...

Word Count =2946

Note -Oomph the sexual tension at the end of this chapter will have you all coming at me for another sexy chapter I can just see it now lol. Oh and the picture is how I imagine Tommy’s face at Ana standing up to him... Enjoy.

Tommy stood by the door, waiting for it to close tightly behind his brothers before hanging up his coat, the peaked cap securely in his pocket. I could tell he was tense, the hunch in his shoulders was a clear give away.

Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out his case of cigarettes, pulling one from its confinement before turning to face me. I watched as he rolled the white stick along his lips, his free hand coming up to strike the match against the box, lighten it, allowing the smoke to puff around his face.

“I had to go." He stated clearly, crossing the room so that he was standing opposite me on the other side of the table.

"You had to go." I repeated, my tongue pushing against my upper lip, trying my best not to let my emotions get the better of me.

“I was a dead man in there Ana. Sabini could have sent in a man at any moment. You didn’t want to come in and have to find me dead did you?” He asked, pulling the cigarette from his lips with a long inhale, holding the smoke between his lips.

"If I wanted to see you dead I wouldn’t have stood between you and the gun Thomas." I remind him through clenched teeth.

"Then what's the problem eh? Why are you so upset?" He asked, the cigarette returning to his mouth as he looked at me, eyebrow raised.

I felt my head tilt to the side as I took in his words. Was he seriously asking me that? Letting out a unamused laugh, I looked down at the table dividing us, shaking my head.

"Are you kidding me? You are seriously asking why am upset?" I asked looking back up at him. “I know you are many things Thomas Shelby but stupid is not one of them.”

Tommy simply looked at me, his tongue poked out from the corner of the mouth as he nodded his head, silently telling me to continue speaking.

"You are unbelievable. Actually unbelievable." I growled, throwing my hands up into the air. My fingers clenching at the air like I was trying to choke the life out of it.

"I did exactly what I needed to do. You know I had business in London. It had to be completed, otherwise the deal was off." He barked back, his hands now resting on the back of the chair, his back hunched over so he was staring down at the seat below him.

"Is that all you think about business?"

"Without the business, what would we have? Nothing. You wouldn’t even be here." He continued, using his right hand to wave at me. The cigarette was now balancing delicately between his lips. “You wouldn’t even look twice at Thomas Shelby the gyspy scum from Watery Lane.”

"You actually think that? You honestly believe I am with you because of your status? Because of your money?" I gasped at his backhanded insult towards me.

The anger was fighting to get out, I felt it coursing through my veins but instead of coming out in the form of words, or action. It came out in tears, the only way I truly knew how to release it.

"I do not care for your money or your status Thomas. I don't even care about the Peaky fucking Blinders. I care about you and your family. The people that they are, not their reputation. Definitely not their money and most certainly not their bloody social status!"

"I didn't..."

"I am not finished." I held up my hand, stopping him mid-sentence. I could have sworn I saw a slight smirk pull on his lips as I continued to speak, but chose to ignore it.

"You can work as a low class factory man, doing the bare minimum and not bring home any money and I'd still be here. By your side, every damn day."

"Stace.."

"Not bloody finished, Thomas," I snapped, glaring at him to shut him up.

Tommy stood taller now. Pressing his shoulders back so they were squared. His eyebrows were raised once again at my defiance towards him.

“I’d do it because I love you. I fucking love you Thomas Shelby. I love you so much that it hurts and I don’t think love is supposed to hurt, not this much.” I trailed off. My own words breaking my heart. “But you’ve hurt me, again and again. Time after time and you continue to hurt me, when I show you nothing but love. Why?”

“I don’t want to hurt you Stace.” His voice soft as he spoke. He made a move to walk around the table towards me but I just held up a hand, stopping him in his place. “Stace…”

“No Tommy, its constant.” I shake my head, eyebrows furrowing together as my brain listed out everything he has down recently. “The letters from Grace, going off to London against medical advice, without telling me, without telling your family. You could have died on that fucking boat Tommy and I wouldn’t have known. Nobody would have known."

"But what’s worse is I watched you get beaten down, almost killed. You were completely unrecognisable, there was blood everywhere. Everywhere” I emphasised. “You stopped breathing, did you know that? I haven’t told anyone, kept that to myself. I carried that burden myself because I didn’t want anyone to think you were weak. When we reached the hospital, you just gave up.”

“Stace…”

“No Tommy, no” I told him with a breathy joyless laugh. “I can’t go through that again. I can’t go through the Grace thing again. I won’t. I am worth more than that. More than what you give me.”

Reaching up to wipe away the stray tears that had fallen down my cheeks, I watched Tommy take the burnt out cigarette from his mouth, disposing of it in the ashtray in the centre of the table, his head hanging low, chin resting on his chest.

“So go Tommy. Go, go be with Grace. Go be with her and ride off into the sunset together because I am done here.” I whisper with a nod at his sorrowful body language.

I nibbled at the corner of my mouth before making a move around the table, walking past him towards the bedroom not wanting to see him walk out that door, only for his hand to come up, resting on my upper arm, stopping me from going anywhere.

“No” He shook his head, pulling on my arm so I would look into his eyes. There was tears in them, actual tears. The only other time I saw that was when I was buried under rubble a few months ago.

“It wasn’t a suggestion Tommy. You don’t want me.” I tell him pulling my arm free of his grasp, taking a step back to create a bit of space between us. “You never have, you just felt like I was the safer choice.”

“How the fuck are you the safer choice? Eh?” He asked growing frustrated.

“I didn’t betray you to Billy Kimber, she did. She betrayed you, she betrayed your family. She got you shot. You couldn’t bring a traitor home to the family, so you settled.” I shrugged, allowing the tears to fall, a small smile grew on my face to finally getting that out.

“That seriously what you think?” He asked, his head dipping down to my smaller 5ft 1 frame to look me dead in the eye.

“What else am I suppose to think? I find out from your hospital bed that you have been writing to that woman for the past two years. Even when you said you chose me, that you wanted me.” I retort, reaching up to push my hair back out of my face. “I asked you to prove to me you wanted me, but all you’ve proved is that I don’t belong with you. I don’t belong in your life.”

“You do belong with me. You belong right here by my fucking side.” Tommy spoke, reaching forward his two hands wrapping around my upper arms, pulling me into him. I was so close I could smell his woody aftershave, mixed with the cigarettes and whiskey. “You belong in my arms Stace.”

Turning my head to look away from him, I inhaled deeply trying to stop the tears as his breath fanned against my face.

“You want me to prove it? You want me to get down on one knee, make you my wife right here right now because I will.”

“No” I whine trying to pull myself out of his grasp and away from him but he had a tight grip on my arms. “No I don’t…”

“No you don’t want to marry me?” He asked, hurt flashing across his face at the rejection.

“No I do, but Jesus Tommy I can’t do this anymore.” I exhaled, taking a moment of weakness on his part, pulling my arms free stumbling back against the wall behind us. “I can’t, I can’t act like everything is okay when it’s not.”

“Stace listen to me” He spoke, stepping towards me. “I need you, I need you, more than you will ever understand.”

Closing the distance between us, his right hand came up to brush against my cheek, his left resting on my hip. He knew exactly what he was doing and I could slowly feel myself wanting to give into him.

He had got me right where he wanted me.

“I love you Stace. I love you more than the business. You are my world, the sun, the stars, the moon. Everything.” He whispered running his thumb across my bottom lip. “The future Mrs Shelby, the mother of my children. I want to give you the world, everything you deserve and more.”

“I don’t want the world Tommy, I just want you.”

“You have me, all of me.” He breathed bending down, placing a small peck on the very corner of my lips. “But if you want me to walk out that door and give you more space I will. But know, I will not be going after Grace. I will at Polly’s waiting for you to get it through your head that I love you and that it is you I want.”

“It’s all just words Tommy.” I whisper, turning my head away from him creating a distance once more.

“What do you want me to do Stace? Because I will do it.” He sighed, his voice almost wavering as he spoke before he suddenly dropped to his knees, head burying into my stomach, arms wrapping around my back tightly pulling me into him and away from the wall.

The once confident, self-assured gangster, Thomas Shelby was brought to his knees before me.

“Just please, please don’t ask me to walk out that door and leave you.”

Sniffling back tears, I fought with myself. My hands wanted to reach down, stroke his longer black hair at the top of his head and assure him that everything was going to be fine but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

“Why did you not tell me about Grace’s letters?” I asked reaching up, rubbing my face along the sleeve of my dress.

I felt his head move, chin moving so it rested on my stomach as he looked up at me. His eyes the cleanest crystal blue due to the tears threatening to fall.

“I didn’t want to hurt you. But when I told you I didn’t return, I meant it. Most of her letters remained unopened when they turned to ash in the fire. I read the last one just before returning to the office that night. I don’t know why.”

“How did Campbell know about the letters?”

“He has had me followed for months since returning and has obviously been tracking my post. Stace…” He started to say, hands wrapping around my hips pulling himself to his feet so he was now looking down on my once more. “It’s business, dirty business you don’t want to be apart of.”

“But I do. I want to know more about the business Tommy.” I tell him, standing tall, eyes not leaving his as his tongue clicked in his mouth.

“Absolutely not.” Tommy shook his head a dark flash passing through the blue irises at my suggestion.

“It’s not a request. You said you would do anything, this is anything.”

“No, not that. I do not care if it’s a demand, a request or a plea. It is not happening Anastasia”

Stepping away from me completely, the power slowly returned to him. The fearless Thomas Shelby of the business world coming back.

“Then get out!” I demanded, cocking an eyebrow of my own at him.

Tommy stood back, shock taking over his features before he smirked. His tongue ran along his bottom lip as he study me, eyes raking over my body.

“Get out? You’re kicking me out of our home because I won’t tell you about my business.”

“Our business. You want me by your side, to be your wife, to bear you children. You will tell me about the business, the family business Tommy.” I challenged stepping up to him and into his space.

“It’s not happening Anastasia.” He spoke, voice dangerously low as he loomed over me.

“Right but it was okay…”

“I swear to God if you say anything about Grace I will fuck you so hard. We can call it the reason for your stupidity.”

“Are you calling me stupid Thomas really?”

“No, don’t do that. Don’t twist my words Stace” He pointed his index finger at me.

Walking away from me he made his way back over to his coat, pulling out another cigarette and lightening it. Closing his eyes as he inhaled, wishing the stress and this argument away.

“Involving you in my business is stupid, reckless.” He opened his eyes with a shake of his head. Moving towards the kitchen he went to his cupboard, pulling out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

“Arthur talks to me about the business, so does Polly.” I tell him, stopping him mid pour with his drink. He seemed to think about my words briefly, looking at me through his eyelashes as he spoke.

“If they are stupid enough to put a target on your back, then go sleep with them. I am doing this to protect you Stace.”

“You can’t protect me from this life anymore Tommy. Look at what has happened over the last two years. I’ve had a gun to my head, almost lost my life in an explosion and watch Sabini’s men kick the living shit out of you before standing in front of you, willing giving myself to protect you, to save you. I am involved in this life Thomas whether you like it or not.”

“In fact you are fucking stupid if you can’t see that.” I finished crossing my arms over my chest, the words just falling from my lips without much thought.

“What did you call me?” He asked, eyebrows raised so high I was sure they were touching his hairline, only the longer hair on the top had fallen down covering them.

Swallowing back, my breathing picked up as Tommy’s head tilted to the side, a strange look in his eye. Taking a step towards the kitchen table, he stubbed out his half smoked cigarette.

“Eh?” His voice dangerously low as he slowly moved around the table. “I ask you a question.”

Inhaling softly I looked towards the front door, planning my escape as Tommy slowly stalked towards me. Feeling brave within myself, I bite my lip weighing up my chances before taking another shot.

“I asked if you were stupid because you can’t see I am already involved in your business.” I tell him, side stepping away from his movements. It was like a lion eyeing up his next meal the way Tommy was moving.

"Like you said earlier love, I'm many things but stupid isn’t one of them” He spoke, suddenly pouncing at the last minute catching me off guard.

Squealing I tried to run, to avoid his long arms but he had caught me, causing the both of us to tumble onto the sofa, the blanket and pillow I had given Arthur last night falling to the floor once he pinned my arms above my head.

Our breathing heavy, mixing as we stared at one another. Tommy’s hand wrapped around my wrists holding me in place while the other started to unbutton my dress.

"You are not getting me until you let me in Tommy fully. No more secrets.” I tell him swallowing back my arousal as best I could but the ache between my legs was huge. It had been too long, my body was craving him.

“No? You sure you want to try and hold out on me princess?” He laughed noticing how my body was reacting to him. His hand slipped under my dress, gently massaging my breast through the silk bra I was wearing.

Moaning, my body took it upon itself to buck up against his hips. Tommy’s arousal making itself known as he ground his hips down against mine.

Not wanting to lost the fight yet, I hooked my leg around his hip bucking up only slightly and turned so that he rolled off me and onto the floor. In surprise Tommy had let go of my wrists, his back hitting the ground with a thud, a groan leaving his lips as he stared up at me with surprise.

“Don’t underestimate me Tommy.”

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#tommy shelby #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby #thomasshelby #thomas shelby fanfic #peaky fucking blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders

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circusgoth-dotcom · 3 days ago

Text

Yearning

Ship: Harry x Luci Thomas

Word Count: 958

Summary: Luci ends up in a holding cell and asks Harry to bust him out. CWs for mild injury mentions, mentions of violence, alcohol mentions, ideations of cheating, brief suggestive humour.

Harry had been enjoying a quiet night in, cosy in his living room, when his landline unexpectedly began to ring. Despite the odd hour, he assumed it must be his wife and went to answer it. Instead, he heard the sheepish voice of his favourite employee.

“Hi, Mr. Norton?” Luci prompted, a thin veil of static surrounding his words. Harry’s head whipped toward the clock on the wall before he answered.

“Mr. Thomas, it’s ten o’clock on a Sunday, what could you possibly need that can’t wait until tomorrow morning??” He asked hurriedly, more concerned than annoyed.

“I… er… listen, I’m down at the South West police station, you don’t think you could get me out of the slammer for the night, could you?”

“What on Earth are you doing at the police station??” He moved as far as he could to the window, curly phone cable stretching into straightness as he leaned to twitch aside his curtains. It was raining heavily, persuading him to hesitate.

“I’ll explain everything when you get here. Will you please come, Harry, I’m so sorry to bother you, I know I’m making a complete ass of myself… my time’s almost up.”

Harry yielded a sigh, closing his curtains and returning to the wall. “I’ll be down in a few.”

“Thank you—” And Luci was promptly cut off, likely by the bobby in the room with him. He placed the phone back in its cradle and went to get his coat and boots before leaving for the station. He was glad his wife and children weren’t home, off visiting extended family until Tuesday. His relationship with them had become increasingly convoluted since Luci came into his life… someday he would come to regret his spinelessness, but today was not that day.

He next saw Lucille Thomas in a holding cell and folded his arms as they were let out. They had bruises forming on their cheek and temple, their knuckles raw and red, dried blood in the cracks of their lower lip. With no bail to pay, there were only questions on Harry’s mind as they walked to his car.

“Thanks again, Mr. Norton…” Luci rubbed his hands together as he sat in Harry’s passenger seat. “... Aren’t you going to ask me what happened?”

“Well, I can see what happened. You got yourself into quite a scrap. I will ask why and what could you possibly have been thinking??” Harry pulled out of his parking spot, focus divided between driving and paying keen attention to Luci’s answer as they rubbed the back of their neck awkwardly.

“Wrong place, wrong time. I-I was down at the pub, about two drinks in, when a fight broke out behind me. I tried to break it up, then it escalated. Most people scattered when the bobbies showed up… lil ol’ me wasn’t fast enough, of course.”

Harry nodded as he listened. “You’re lucky this isn’t a usual thing for you. What were you doing at the pub, anyway?”

Luci sniffed, looking out at the rain pounding the passenger side window. “What do you mean—”

“I mean, that isn’t the usual place I’d picture you. I know you don’t like crowds, or noise, or much of anything social, really.”

Luci laughed lightly and his breath fogged up the glass. “My stash is dry and my usual liquor store closed early tonight… plus, it was happy hour at The Fat Lamb, and I may’ve followed a decent-looking guy in…”

Harry bit his cheek, though he knew better than to be jealous. “Right.” He pulled up to his house and Luci perked up.

“Oh, don’t let me intrude, I’ve already been enough of a nuisance tonight…”

Harry sighed lightly. “I’d be remiss if I let you spend the night alone in this weather, especially after you’ve gotten the shit kicked out of you. I won’t take no for an answer, either.”

Quickly, they dashed under lightning and into Harry’s warm home. Harry led Luci into the kitchen, fetching him a towel and a tumbler of whiskey as he sat at the table. “Since your night of half-price drinking was cut short. And it should keep you warm.”

Luci nodded in appreciation, ruffling his hair with the towel before draping it over his shoulders, hand clasping the glass. He hummed after a thoughtful sip. “So, this is your place?”

Harry placed his palms on the table, looking around the room. “Yes. Cosy, isn’t it?”

Luci smiled. “It suits you.”

Harry slowly exhaled and turned his gaze upon them. “How’s your head?”

A small smirk couldn’t help but form on Luci’s lips as they took another sip of the whiskey. “No complaints yet, Mr. Norton.”

Harry flushed and straightened up. “Please, you can call me Harry. It isn’t just reserved for when you’re begging me to bail you out of holding cells.”

Luci snickered behind his hand and finished off his drink. “I could do with some aspirin, actually… Harry.” He flexed his hands, watching his boss with half-lidded eyes.

“Right. Why don’t you go make yourself comfortable in the sitting room, I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Luci stood and followed Harry’s direction, soon rejoined by him and a couple of painkillers. He took them and the two sat together on the couch, though with an appropriate sense of space between them. Still, Luci couldn’t deny the allure of Harry’s fireplace and the softness of his sweater, soon curling into Harry’s side. Harry moved his arm, wrapping around Luci’s shoulders.

“Luci…”

“Yes, Harry?”

Their faces were inches apart. Still, in this intimate moment, Harry couldn’t make his move. “Nevermind…” He let them cuddle closer to him, appreciation for silence clear in their demeanour. He rested his temple atop their head.

#self shipping #self shipping community #safeshipping #gay self ship #trans self ship #self insert #self insert x canon #self x canon #self insert oc #oc x canon #circus scripts #👓Designed For You🖥️#🖱️🫦.s/i

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