#I have one who I sometimes just. Do not like. Like the oc feels too cliche and tropey and everything

[cherrynpink]

freak like me

pairing: nerdy!dino x f!reader

genre: project partners, mutual pining, lots of daydreaming, smut (with a bit of plot) MDNI!

warnings: shy cutesy dino who has my heart (he is a secret freak!), idk how american uni works so just go w it pls, dino and chan are both used interchangeably, oc has nerd kink (ahem), forward oc, cursing, a bit of manipulation?, too many thirsty thoughts, kissing, choking, spit kink, unprotected sex (do not do this!), oral sex (m. receiving), fingering, clit stimulation, brat!oc, brattamer!dino, mean dino, he calls oc slut/whore, dirty talk!!!, riding, missionary position, creampie, size kink?, crying, hair grabbing, ass slapping, orgasm denial, cum eating, it is honestly filthy, lmk if i missed anything!

w.c.: 5.4k

playlist: freak like me

note: thank you so much for liking the last fic so much :( didn't expect such a positive reception so i was super motivated to write this one! plus these pictures of him did something to me like y'all don't get it like i do bcs i went crazy and HAD to write.

also u can message me here or comment if u want to be part of my taglist! my requests are open if u have something u wanna read, or just talk. feedback is highly appreciated hope u like this one hehe :3

“Right, so the semester end project will be a group project.” Your professor says as the whole class sighs in disappointment and annoyance.

“I know you all don’t like these group projects, but it’s compulsory guys, it’s worth 30% of your final grade. If it’s any consolation, I requested the dean to let it be done in pairs, so be a little grateful, I don’t want anyone coming up to me after class asking to change partners.”

Great. The only thing you hated more than group projects were the ones done in pairs. In spite of all the arguments in groups, atleast you didn’t have to do any work if you didn’t feel like it. But now not only will there be conflicts with your partner, but you’ll have to do half the work too. Just great.

“Y/n? miss y/n?” your professor calls pulling you out of your zoned out state as you raise your hand in confusion.

“You’ll be partnered with Mr. Chan.”

Oh. This was going to be fun. Not only was Chan really REALLY good at studies, but also so cute. You first met him just on the second day of class, when you asked him for a pencil because being klutz you are, you had forgotten you had that class that day and had practically rolled off your bed as your roommate woke you up minutes before it started, reaching a bit late and resulting in your professor scolding you. Chan had coyly given you the pencil, later passing you a note in the middle of the class written “you can ask me later if you have any doubts about what was taught before you arrived as you were a bit late :)”. Oh, he was so cute.

That was how your friendship started, though you never talked much outside of class- other than the occasional times he replied to your story or liked it, you and him were mostly formal with each other, never crossing the boundary of “classmates.”

Sometimes you would ask him for his notes, and being the nice guy he is, he would send the snapshots in a second. You would later leave an iced americano on his usual seat, as a gesture of thankfulness; and a note along with it. Sometimes when the professor’s voice cracked in the middle of the lecture, your eyes would find his- giving each other a slight smile.

It was always quick glances, polite words, and soft smiles, because you both never seemed to take it further. But you were tired now, tired of pretending you didn’t picture his face squished under your thighs, glasses all fogged up and your slick dripping down his chin. Tired of acting like you didn’t violate your poor pillow every other night imagining how he would sound with him in your throat.

Was he a head pusher? Or someone that just begged you to let him come? Would he let you tie him up? Or would he want to tie YOU up? you were sick of acting like he didn’t get you so so wet when he answered a question in class and fixed his glasses, and you had a plan to change that.

As the class ends, you see him coming up to you.

“Should we work at the library at 6 today? I’ll get us some coffee and snacks to eat while we work!” he says with a small smile on his face.

You could agree to the library at 6, after all he has pitched it so sweetly, but there is a devil on your shoulder that is actually so evil, because you hear a voice in your head saying no way you’re meeting him in a public place for the things you want to do with him.

“I’m a bit busy at 6 Chan, I-”

“Dino! You can call me dino too. All my friends usually call me that.” He says shyly.

You smile sweetly. “I’m a bit busy at 6 dino, I have my shift at the café.” You say pouting at him. They are blatant lies. You do not have your shift at the café today because it is closed, something about the owner being at a wedding, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“You can come over to my place at 10 if it’s okay with you? I doubt the library will the open till the time I get off work.” You feel a bit bad, but you’re just inviting him over because it’s more comfortable at home, right? Yeah! Nothing needs to happen just because you’ll be alone with him. (You are lying to yourself at this point because there is no way you don’t lose your mind at the thought of being alone with him.)

“Oh, okay sure! text me the address, I’ll be there.” He says with a sweet smile and you might crush him because of how much you want to squish his cheeks right now.

Dino might go crazy. He’s not even sure if you could see he wasn’t paying attention to a thing you said, because he was too busy staring at your lips the entire time, and then your collarbones, until his eyes travelled to your tits trapped in your blouse which was just a little too tight. Tight enough to accentuate the curve of your breasts; but not letting them spill out- just tight enough.

On top of that, if he’s left alone with you, he has no idea how he’s going to prevent a tent from forming in his pants, so he opts for a oversized hoodie long enough to cover him and a pair of grey sweatpants because it is your house after all, he can dress casual, and he doesn’t want you to know he took 20 minutes to decide what he wore so that his outfit says-“hey, I’m casual and comfortable” and “I’m put together” at the same time.

He is sharp on time, you say to yourself as the bell rings. You’re a bit nervous approaching the door in your small plaid skirt and sweater, knowing how he always stares at you whenever you wear a skirt to class. Plus, you’re wearing a something a little special underneath it, just it case. You push the self-doubting thoughts to the back of your head as you open your door and he is a sight to see. He looks so delicious in those animal print framed glasses and messy hair, there is a glow on his face and oh, those stupid goddamn grey sweatpants. It is OVER for you.

“You’re very punctual, it’s exactly 10.” You giggle. “Your hair looks a bit of a mess dino, coming from another girl’s place?” you say as you smirk, leaning against the door.

“No! No, I just came from the gym, my hair is still a bit wet from the shower.” He says as he ruffles his hair and comes in, setting his bag on the table in your living room. Oh? Pretty boy goes to the gym as well, is there anything he doesn’t do. He usually only wore oversized hoodies and t-shirts to class, never really revealing his true figure; nor did you ever see him much in parties despite his friends being a part of the frat, so this was a new side of him you were seeing right now.

“My roommate is gonna be home in a bit, so we can work in my room, mhm?” you ask, acting intentionally doe eyed and innocent. Lies. They are all lies. Your roommate isn’t going to be home in a bit, she’s at her girlfriend’s dorm. And she is not going to be home until tomorrow after class. And maybe if Chan was thinking clearly, he would’ve asked why your roommate would mind you working in the living room with him. But he’s not thinking clearly, too busy staring at your legs and imagining his face between your thighs; so, forgive him if he isn’t at his highest functioning brain activity right now.

He murmurs a quiet okay as he follows you to your room as you lead him. And your room is so you. He doesn’t know how to explain it, because he doesn’t know you so well yet, but as soon as he enters through the door, he sees plushies laid out neatly on your bed, and your scent all around him. He can see posters of bands and movies dressing up your walls and random Sanrio figurines all around the room. He lays his bag on your bed, taking out his laptop as you sit next to him on your chair, and your skirt rides up, revealing your soft thighs further. And maybe his eyes are playing tricks on him, but he can almost see pink lace fabric peaking from underneath your skirt. And maybe you’re just a bit cold, but he swears he can see your nipples peeking through your sweater.

Every passing minute, he is making it so hard for you to keep your composure. He keeps sharing his ideas about the project and telling you what you should work on. Why is hearing him talk about physics so sexy? You don’t know what it is, but you can’t help but think how hot he looks when he talks so passionately. Your panties are literally getting soaked as the time goes on. It’s been an hour, and he hasn’t even taken a second to look at you yet! You’re quite literally whoring yourself out for him and all he cares about is inductive motor or whatever the hell the project is about.

“Channie, can we move to the bed? I’m feeling a bit tired from my shift.” You say, fake yawning.

“Mmm? Oh sure.” It is over for him, he thinks to himself.

As you sit up on your bed, your skirt FULLY rides up, revealing your baby pink lace panties. You push it down gently, saying “oops” as you giggle. And something inside him snaps. All control he had, he’s lost it now and he physically cannot hold back anymore. His gaze darkens, as he pushes you down, his grip on your throat as he gets on top of you. You gasp as he takes you by surprise, but the shock lasts barely 5 seconds before you smirk.

You reach up as your lips find his, pulling him deeper into your mouth as you grab his hair. From the get go, it is passionate, and rough and messy, because both of you are left gasping for your breath- your cheeks rosy and your chest heaving. Deciding to tease him further, you bite his lip. He moans into your mouth, mumbling “brat.” Taking the opportunity, you slip your tongue into his mouth deepening the kiss, and it is so sloppy; neither of you willing to give up control. The heat between your legs grows because of the way his tongue fights with yours to take over, which has your head spinning.

“Channie” you moan, as you feel the hard press of his body against yours, the sound of your lips smacking together and your heavy gasping filling the room.

His hand reaches to lift your sweater slightly, fingers making contact with your bare skin as they keep moving upwards until they your lacy bra, delicately toying with the material.

“You wore this for me baby? Knew this was going to happen?”

All you do is giggle as you continue to kiss down his jaw, alternating between sucking and biting. But that doesn’t sit right with him, as his other hand wraps around your neck, squeezing just the right amount so that his grip is tight enough, but still allowing you to breathe, and suddenly you’re flooding your panties.

“This okay?” he asks, his eyes filled with concern and genuine worry, looking for any discomfort in your eyes, desperate for your approval to continue.

You nod, because it’s actually all you can do. He loosens the grip on your throat and begins to pull his hand away as he says “Fuck, if you want me to go on, you’re gonna have to answer me baby.”

You’re quick to bring his hand back on your neck, your head turning left and right in panic, “No! No, please I want it!” you say as he smirks at your desperate state.

“Yeah? Then answer me when I ask you a question baby. You wore this set for me pretty?”

“Just wanted you to notice me, pay attention to me.” You say between kisses.

“And you thought whoring yourself out would be the way to get my attention” he chuckles. “Thought it was a mistake when you flashed me, turns out baby’s just an attention whore.”

He gets off of you and the bed and a whine leaves your throat as he pulls you down by your ankles as your hips reach the foot of your bed in an instant as he begins taking off his glasses.

“No!” you protest. “don’t- don’t take them off, I like them.” You say timidly. He picks you up, flipping your previous position as he seats you on his lap, taking off his hoodie, and you cannot help but stare. You did not know he was SO built and buff, your eyes are practically eating him up as you feel drool building up in your mouth. Oh, you NEED to suck him off right now. And that’s pretty much all it takes for you as you get on your knees for him.

When you look up to him, there is hunger in his eyes, something you’ve never seen before, his gaze full of lust. He can’t remember how many times he’s pictured you like this, on your knees, so innocent, a pathetic expression on your face, waiting for him to give you your next instruction.

Those stupid man whore grey sweatpants, you need them off now.

You fumble with it’s band as you impatiently pull it down, revealing his Calvin Klein boxers, and you clearly have no time for this nonsense, rushing to pull his boxers down as well, all while he looks down on you, leaning back on the bed- hands on either side of him with a big cocky smirk on his face, because he cannot wait to see the next look on your face.

Your face: it’s so transparent, so revealing. It’s literally like you wear your heart on your sleeve. Everything you feel, you think, you want, it’s clear- plain as day on your face. And as soon as you pull his boxers off, there it is- pure amusement and shock, as his dick twitches at the sight of your wide doe eyes. You knew he was big, atleast that’s what you pictured in your nightly scenarios. But you did not know he was this big both in length and in girth as well, his angry tip staring at you, begging for your attention.

“Take your sweater off.” He demands. No pleas, no hesitance. An order. And who would you be to defy him? you teasingly take it off, all while a small smile adorns your lips as you throw the sweater somewhere on the floor alongside his hoodie.

You take his length in your hand, rubbing your thumb over his tip- spreading his pre-cum around it as your eyes go from doe like to those of a siren as they stare straight into his, spitting right on it seductively and oh, he thinks he’s in love. You pump it up and down and fuck- you can’t even completely wrap your hand around it, giving it a little squeeze as you go along, building the tension. But he doesn’t seem too happy about it as he sighs in annoyance. He’s sick of your teasing, because even after his multiple attempts to discipline you, you’ve decided to continue being a brat.

In the blink of an eye, he takes your hand off of him, grabs you by your jaw and squeezes your cheeks between his thumb and fore finger- the rest of the them lying on your jaw, forcing to you part your lips slightly.

“Do you trust me y/n?” he says softly, yet his voice dripping with dominance as you nod.

“Open your mouth, tongue out baby.”

And what he does next takes you by surprise, as he leans down, collecting a glob of spit in his mouth as it drips down from his mouth to yours, making you moan as you close your eyes, feeling the warm liquid on your tongue.

“Swallow.” he says as he caresses your jaw. And his wish is your command; you let out a loud moan as you feel it travel down your throat.

“Good girl. You’ll listen to me now, yeah? No more teasing. I’ve been holding back until now but if you don’t behave, I’ll have to fuck you like the whore you are. Better yet, I’ll eat you out, and get you so so close. I’ll be at it for hours baby, I have no place to be, but I won’t let you cum. So, tell me, you’re gonna be a good girl for me now?”

And all you can do is nod as he smirks, because now, he holds the power over you, and you want him to take over you. Don’t want to think about anything, just do whatever he says. And he can see that, see you fully slipping into subspace.

He holds his dick in his hand, and as your mouth chases his tip, he slaps it against your cheek. All he does is laugh, because you just look so pathetic under him. Tits spilling out of your see through pink lace bra, eyes on the brink of tears, fists balled up in your lap because he won’t let you touch him.

He grabs your hair in a makeshift ponytail and slaps his dick against your other cheek as he says “tap my thigh twice in you wanna stop, okay?” and finally rubs his tip against your lips, parting them immediately as you engulf it in your mouth, sucking on it as if it’s a popsicle, swirling your tongue all around it, making him groan.

Slowly, he pushes his dick in inch by inch until it hits the back of your throat, and its laughable, because half of it still can’t be wrapped around your tiny mouth even though your jaw is doing gymnastics to accommodate half of him and he lets out a loud moan due to the insane pleasure it gives him. Since he won’t let you move yet, enjoying the feeling of cockwarming your mouth too much, you drag your tongue up and down, making him hiss.

Finally, he decides to fuck your throat, sliding your mouth up and down his dick as if your mouth is just a fleshlight for him to use, making your eyes roll back. He starts slow, as to ease you in; but is quick to fasten his pace to meet his needs. But you want to do more, so your hands reach up to play with his balls, and oh does it take him by surprise. All he can do while fucking your mouth is mumble sweet nothings, praising you, telling you how good you’re being letting him use you like this. And his words are working, because at this point your slick is running down your thighs and your cunt is in a desperate need of attention, as you grind it against the heel of your foot and when you look up to him, you don’t think you’ve ever seen anything more beautiful. His glasses lay low on his nose as his head is thrown back in pleasure and his hair is messy, sticking to his forehead due to the sweat; yet his hand is precise is controlling your mouth by your hair. His buff chest heaving desperate for air as his ears and cheek are a pretty shade of pink for you.

Suddenly he looks down to meet your eyes staring at him in lust, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything hotter as he sees you grind against your foot pathetically all whilst he fucks your warm mouth. He can feel the vibration of your mouth as you moan around him, and he thinks he’s in heaven. You look so dirty, spit dribbling down your chin, pupils dilated and red with desire, tears streaming down your cheeks because of how deep he’s hitting it right now. He is just so close, but no way he doesn’t cum in your pussy today, so he pulls you off his dick as you welp, a string of spit connecting your lips to his tip.

“I’ll come in your mouth some other day baby, need to be in you right now.” He says responding to your cute pout as he pulls you up to sit on his lap, your legs on either side of his thigh once again.

His hands travel to your back to undo your bra in an instant as it’s thrown somewhere on the bed behind him. Immediately his mouth is attached to your hardened nipple as you let out a loud moaning, feeling his warm tongue on your cold skin.

“I’m so fucking sick of you parading around in this stupid excuse of a skirt that barely covers your ass y/n.” He says as his hands travel down and under your skirt, making contact with your dripping lace, running his fingers up and down. He can feel your slick on his own thighs.

“Oh? You’re already soaked, baby. But I haven’t even touched you yet, wanna tell me what got you so wet?” he says as he mocks you, still not taking his attention off your breasts, sucking them and marking them up with hickeys all around and all you can do is moan as you dig your nails into his back overwhelmed by the pleasure.

“You’re so sensitive, so responsive. I love it baby, so easy for me. Need you to answer me- what’s got you dripping?” he says as he finds your clothed clit, pressing hard against it over the lace.

He’s being so mean right you. The remnants of tears on your cheeks have barely dried up before you can feel yourself getting teary eyed already.

“You! Want you so bad channie! Been wet for you since you walked in the door.” You cry out desperately.

Finally, he stops teasing your covered pussy and pulls it to the side, inserting two of fingers with no warning making you scream out loud. He’s quick to press his thumb to your clit, flicking it as he pumps his fingers into you, all whilst he’s sucking on your tits. His pace is monstrous from the start, and he shows no signs of stopping as he continues to drive them in you, opening you up preparing you to take his big dick. All you can do is drop your head on his shoulder helplessly, taking what he gives you.

“Ah! So good Chan, so- so- fuck! Right there! Need you!” you say as he repeatedly hits your g-spot all while rubbing your clit.

You’ve lost all track of time. You’ve been so close to cumming ever since you saw him walk through your front door that even the slightest touch could get you to your high, and here Chan was, touching you right where you needed, enlightening all your senses.

“I’m about- gonna- gonna cum dino! Please, let me, oh- please let me cum!” you cry out loud, begging him as he pulls out his fingers in an instant and just like that you’re crying again, dropping your head in the crook of his neck.

“What, don’t cry baby.” He says, voice dripping with fake sympathy, because inside him he knows your tears turn him on even more. His hand reaches the small of your back as he caresses it, attempting to calm you down. “Want you to cum on my cock princess. Think you can do that, yeah? You promised you’d be a good girl for me.”

“I was- I was just so close.” You say timidly between your sniffles.

“It’s okay princess, I’ll make you cum real good on my cock.” He whispers, kissing you tenderly for the first time in the evening, and it makes your heart full, reminding you that in spite of everything, this is the same dino that you see in class every day, polite and sweet and beautiful; but you’re brought back to the present as he pulls away from you, shattering your illusion.

“You wanted my attention so bad y/n, you started it. So, you’re gonna take what you wanted- gonna have to ride me.” He says with a shit eating grin that just makes you so mad right now, but eager to give him what he asks for you get off your lap and begin to take off your skirt.

“Did I ask you to take it off? Still not behaving baby. Keep the skirt on; after all you made such a show of wearing them, wanna fuck you in it. Take off your panties.”

Once the pink garment is off, you sit on his lap again, as he slaps his dick against your poor swollen cunt, running his tip against your entrance.

“You know what to do right? It isn’t your first rodeo after all.” He says as he smiles.

God, he is so cocky. If you didn’t desperately need him in you, you would not put up with it for a second. (you would probably put up with it anyway)

You take his dick in your hand as you hover over it, your pussy clenching over nothing, begging to be filled by him as you insert the tip in him; and that alone is such a stretch for you, your legs might give up then and there. But you are anything but determined. Stubborn. Firm on proving yourself. So, you accept the stretch, stabilising yourself by placing one hand on his wide shoulder while you bottom out completely, burying himself into you in one go making him throw his head back and groan in pleasure as his hands reach out to hold your waist, not letting you escape his grasp.

Slowly but surely, you begin by grinding your hips against them, building up the tension as you try to maintain a steady pace; but dino doesn’t look amused, so you begin to move up and down on him, burying your freshly done nails into his shoulders. His hand moves down as you bounce on him, giving your ass a quick slap before finding it going under your skirt and rubbing your clit, making you gasp out.

“Fuck, lift up your skirt baby.” He says, and you comply- lifting up your skirt with one hand, whilst he continues to toy with your clit and you bounce up and down his dick, showing him the mess you both are making; and he loves it.

You’re so eager to please him, prove yourself to him as you continue to alternate between grinding and moving up and down; but the pleasure is SO overwhelming with his hand on your nub and you don’t think you can last. On top of that, you’ve been working so hard to maintain a steady pace for him, that your thighs are about to give out. And he sees that- sees your movement becoming sloppy and messy, your thighs shaking and your grip tightening on his shoulder.

“Tired, baby?”

Why is he such a tease. And why is he being so mean to you when he knows you’re totally spent. You think you’re going to cry for the third time in the night.

“You know, all you have to do is admit it. And I’ll take over. You know you want me to. I can make you feel so good baby, hit all the right spots and you don’t have to lift a finger.” He whispers in your ear before slapping your ass again as he lifts his hips to meet yours in a sharp thrust, showing you how much better he can make you feel.

“I- I- tired. I’m tired channie! Thighs hurt. P- please!” you say between hiccups as he keeps thrusting into you from beneath.

That’s all he needs to hear, before he’s flipping you on your back without taking himself out of you, pressing a kiss to your lips as he begins to actually fuck you. His hands roam all over you as if he’s trying to memorise every curve and dip. He’s thrusting into you with such a force your tits bounce back and forth with every drive of his hips into you while he mumbles pretty words in your ears.

“Pussy so good baby, absolutely squeezing me. Can’t believe you were letting those stupid guys have this while I was right there. Could’ve made you feel this good all this time. Fuck! Always wanted to bend you over the desk whenever you wore those stupid skirts to class. You know, everyone could see you baby. See how much needy you were. You’re probably just too much a slut to care, no?”

His mouth reaches down to bite your nipple, where you’re already so sensitive that you can’t help but cry out. You look so dumb for his cock right now, your nails are absolutely obliterating his back as your legs wrap around him not letting him go, a chant of his name leaving your lips with each of his movement. All you can hear is the sound of his balls slapping against you and your screams. You’re pretty sure you’ll get complaints from your neighbour tomorrow but who cares; he’s just too good. His thrusts get deeper yet sloppier as you feel him reach between your sweaty bodies and rub your clit in an attempt to get you closer.

“Fuck! Gonna cum baby. Are you close?”

“Yes! Channie fuck, love- love your dick so much! So big, need- I’m almost there!”

And that’s all the motivation he needs before he picks up his pace again, angling himself to hit you exactly at the spot that makes you scream, and before you know it, you feel tears streaming down your face again because of the overstimulation.

“Chan! Gonna cum! Please, please- fuck right there, please wanna cum!”

“Where do you want me princess?”

“In! In me, wanna feel you in me, fill me up! Please, need it in me!” you babble.

And that is all it takes for you to let go. Your eyes roll to the back of your head with a loud whine as your nails dig into him deeper, your back arching- the pleasure taking over you as you see stars in front of your eyes, screaming his name over and over again. It’s like you’re floating- because your body feels numb and completely spent. He feels you clenching so much around his cock as you cum, it’s like you’re milking him, before he’s filling you up full of him too, reaching his high, and he cannot stop. Even after you’re done, you’re still rhythmically squeezing him as he doesn’t stop coming in you. You feel him warm in you, and you honestly never want him to pull out, but unfortunately, he does- leaving you empty as his essence begins to spill out of you.

He gets between your legs, watching a mixture of your cum dripping out of you, admiring his work before he’s collecting it in his fingers, tracing your swollen sensitive centre as he comes up to you, and inserting his fingers in your mouth, while he kisses your tears. You can taste him and yourself on your tongue as you close your eyes, swirling your tongue around his fingers. The sight is so hot to him, his dick twitches against you once again before he’s pulling his fingers out and gently kissing you, as he leaves your bed to bring you a towel.

He lies besides you after he cleans you up as you turn you face each other.

“Sorry if I was too rough, got carried away a bit.” He says as you lay your head on his arm and run your hand through his hair.

“You were so good, I think I need to be a little bitchy again for you to put me in my place.” You say as you kiss him, smiling against his lips.

[milkmily]

Invitation [Zayne]

Zayne x non mc! reader

Sum. You and Zayne got an invitation to a wedding, but it was to attend the wedding of the people you two love, both heartbroken. (Angst(?), a bit of Sylus x reader, nothing romantic happens in this chapters yet, There is comfort in a way ig idk guys I suck at this lol enjoy)

Layla is MC (my oc) to clear things up :) Also sorry if there are typos I did re read but at times I sometimes miss some even if I do re read it lol. Also me posting this after we got a new 5 star card released!? Craazzyyy lol I am definitely getting Zayne and Caleb on everyone's soul.

Zayne is in love with Layla, his soulmate. The one who he is distant To be, the one who he loves and cherishes. She was his destiny. But when he had gotten the letter to her wedding, he was just devastated. This wasn't supposed to go like this. This was one of the universes that he'd get to change the fate of it all, to finally be with her.

And here he stands at the wedding, both Sylus and Layla dancing together slowly. She married a man named Sylus. He's heard of him from times that Layla would go to his office to spend time with him. He didn't think much of it really. He thought that they were just friends. She always meets someone new with how kind she is. But never did he think that this would happen. He was happy, well, not truly happy.

He looks down at the glass of champagne he had at his hand. He sighs and sits down, no longer standing the sight of seeing the love of his life dance with someone else. He should be happy for God's sake! If he loves her he should. But…he just simply couldn't. The soft slow music still played as there was a small crowd watching them dance. “You came here for the bride Or the groom?” He heard someone say. He turned to his right and saw you. He's seen you before. You are one of Layla's friends. He just never knew your name or talked to you. “The bride…” he said as he fixed his glasses. You hummed and sat next to him. “You don't seem to enjoy the celebration.” Was it that obvious?

“No, I am. I've been told I just look cold.” He says back to you as his eyes move to look at Layla and Sylus. Your eyes moved too to look at the two newlyweds. “I'm here for the groom.” You say. “He's my boss.” You chuckled. “Layla has told me about you. She says you're her doctor.” So she does talk about him. He looked at you and nodded. But Your eyes were still glued to the happy couple that danced. Your eyes, they showed pain and hurt, maybe even betrayal? The same exact feelings he himself feels. They also were a bit puffy, had you cried for them because you were happy for them? “You also look like you aren't enjoying the celebration.” He says. You snapped and looked at him. “It's that obvious? Jeez…” you sighed. “Not really a big fan of crowds.” He wasn't sure but it seemed like a lie to him.

“I am Zayne.” He says. You smiled at him and said your name. Ah, that's your name. It suits you.

It was 4 am when you woke up. You took a shower, got ready, made breakfast and got ready for work. You sat down on your desk and saw A small white envelope. You smiled, already knowing who it was.

You flipped it and it had his name on it. Sylus. You hummed, wondering what it might have been and opened it. You take out the letter and read it. Your eyes went wide as you saw the two names next to each other and the big words that said, You're invited to our wedding.

You see the names again and your stomach starts to hurt. Married? Sylus and Layla?

You re Read it to be right and even check the date to see if it was some stupid prank that Layla had pulled. But no, it wasn't April 1 and it definitely was real as it had below Sylus signature you knew so well.

This hurt, seeing the letter at hand. “So, will you be coming, dear?” You looked up to see Sylus leaning on the desk. You looked down at the letter. Seeing him hurt even more now. “Yes, of course. How could I miss it?” You say yet, your tone cracked a bit. you Were trying so hard to hold in your tears. You start to cough In hopes that Sylus thought you'd simply gotten a cold. “That's good to know.” He Smiled. “You don't need to worry about the dress or anything, I'll have it ready. They just need to measure you and that's all.” You looked up at him, his red eyes Looking right back at you. Of course he'd do that, he always does. And that's what you loved about him, one of the many things you loved about him.

“Okay…thank you.” You smiled. “Um, I'll be right back.” You say and excuse yourself. You go into the restroom, lock the door and sit down on the floor as you hold on to the letter. You just start to sob uncontrollably as you hold the letter and reread it every single time. It waa true. It was real. And it hurt so much.

You have loved Sylus for so long. His gestures, the way he talked, walks, the way he is is what made you fall in love. His touch is so soft that you'd Wish for more from just his single shoulder squeeze Or the hold he had on you as you two had danced together that one night having to pretend to be a couple on a mission. The night you two stared into each other's eyes, your heart beating quick and fast as he had that smile On his face that made you melt. Or the times he'd invite you out to eat dinner, showed you his vinyl collections and heard his horrible singing That made you laugh and made him chuckle. Everything of him you loved and had wished it would have been your name on the card.

The dress was beautiful, it truly was. Sylus knew what would look good on you, always. The wedding was beautiful and welcoming. Everything was beautiful. Even Layla. Her gorgeous wedding dress and the huge Smile in her face as she walked down the aisle. The tears she shed as she heard Sylus vows was even beautiful. And how Sylus looked at her with such loving eyes as she read her vows. But it hurt. You don't know how many times you had to excuse yourself just to cry alone in the bathroom.

You had just gotten done crying, walking back to the party to see the groom and bride dancing together To a slow and soft song. You watched them and just smiled at them. No matter how much you wished and vision it was you, the reality never changes and it will stay like this. You saw someone sitting alone and approached them. Might as well make new friends, no? As you got closer you noticed, this was Dr. Zayne. The Doctor that Layla talked About a lot, her childhood friend and primary doctor. You sat down next to him and ask, “You came here for the bride Or the groom?” You already knew the answer but it's the best way to start a conversation no? You saw he wasn't enjoying the celebration much but maybe that's just how he Looks? So you ask and he explains that it's just how he looks. But to you, it felt like a lie.

You looked back at the dancing married couple, but more at Sylus. His arm wrapped around her waist, exactly how he had held you that night as you two danced, his other Hand holding her hand, fingers intertwined, exactly How you gwo held hands as well and-

“You also look like you aren't enjoying the celebration.” You snapped out of your thoughts and looked at him, smiling nervously. You were caught so off guard. “It's that obvious? Jeez…” you sighed. You Just came up with some stupid excuse. “Not really a big fan of crowds.

“I am Zayne.” He says. You smiled at him and said your name back to him. Zayne nods. And You two just talk, as if the crowd was never there, as if you two were never at a wedding. As if you were never heart broken.

You two ended up talking the whole wedding party. You'd laugh at his stupid and horrible jokes because come on, they were actually funny. And he'd Laugh at your horrible jokes as well. You told him about Sylus and how he was as a boss and he told you about Layla and how it was growing up with her.

“You two are here to talk or for the celebration?” You two looked at who talked and it was Layla. She was smiling at you two and you awkwardly looked away. “Both…?” You say and she laughed. “Come on! You two have to dance or something! You two are boring.”

“Now Kitten, you already know how [Name] is, she doesn't like dancing.” He says as he had two glasses of champagne at hand. You embarrassingly looked away as he said that. Well, now Zayne knows too. “Zayne here is the same.” Layla says and now Zayne looks away as well. You two looked at each other and chuckled. Layla holds her hand out towards Zayne and he takes it. Suddenly he's pulled away and you laugh at how wide His eyes got. Suddenly a big hand is Held at front of you. “Care for a dance?” He asks and you look up at him. Your heart beats fast And place your hand on top of his.

The song was slow like last Time. Some guests were dancing as well. Sylus wrapped his arms around your waist and you placed your hands on his shoulders to keep a distance. You two slowly dance and you just stare at his chest. “You're hiding something from me.” He says. You say nothing because It's true. You're hiding so much from him right now. “You Can tell me.” He says. You close your eyes as you hold back the tears. “Look up at me.” He says and you do, you open your eyes and they slowly adjust Themselves. You saw Sylus Smiling down at you as he slowly moves along with you.

“Tell me.” He whispers. He truly does care about you.

“I can't right now.” You say. It would be horrible To confess your feelings on his wedding day. What type of person does that? “When will you?” he asks. “When it's the right Time.” You say and continue to dance with him. He brought you closer, your head in his chest now, hearing the soft heart beats and you closed your eyes. You simply let the moment happen.

Zayne looked over at you and Sylus and as Sylus Slowly turns, he saw a tear slide down your cheek as your ear was pressed against his ches. He looked away and looks down at Layla as she danced along with him.

She was gorgeous, really. She looked so beautiful with the white dress she had on, how she had her hair up in a big bun with some curls out and her bands To the side. She is So gorgeous. Is this how she Would of looked if They got married? Would she hold him exactly how she held Sylus when they danced? Kissed him the same way? This was wrong, truly wrong. But he cannot stop how he feels, he's human after all. Layla looked up at him and smiled, “You're thinking right now Zayne, what is it?”

“Nothing.” He says as he smiles softly down at her. “Hmmm, it better not be work related. At my wedding, work is not welcomed.” She said and giggled. Zayne Chuckles and shakes his head. “No, it's not work. Don't worry.” He says. “I'll try to visit you as much as I can, Dr. Zayne. And I won't miss any appointments either.” She says, reassuring him. He nods and says, “Good to hear.”

“Thank you for coming.” She says as she looks at him. “Really, it means a lot that you're here.” But if only she knew that he felt like a damn storm right now. He nodded at her and they continued to dance. That's when Sylus Tapped his shoulder and said, “I'll have to steal her from you now.” Layla let's go of Zayne and he watched her leave with Sylus so they'd dance together. That's when he saw you standing as well. You looked hurt too. The same pain as his. And right then and there, he knew you were Also in love.

He walks up To you and asks, “you really don't like to dance?” You looked at him and shrugged. “It really depends..” He held his hand out and asked, “do you want to dance?” you looked at his hand and held it. He slowly brings you closer to him and holds you. You closed your eyes as you Pressed your ear against his chest and danced with him. He looked down at you and saw you shaking. “It's okay.” He whispers. And it breaks you. You let out soft and quiet Sobs as you danced with him. He holds you a bit more tighter, reassuring you. You held on to him as you two danced and felt him let out a shaky sigh.

Well, now he knows it wasn't because you didn't like big crowds. And you now knew that it wasn't because of his expression.

You two were truly broken.

There will be a part two :)

[elodieunderglass]

Hi, hello, I'm sending you a weird not quite ask that you can feel free to tuck deep into the recesses of your inbox and never look at if it's too weird.

But I've been thinking about Killie. Again. Which is odd, because I'm not the blorbo rotating type. I'm happy enough to watch other people play in their sandboxes, but I just...don't. Fandom. The way people normally do on this site. So, I was wondering why your horrible horseboy is so beloved and such an infohazard to anyone who comes across him, and I think I hit on it. At least for me.

You don't shy away from two things in your telling of him: that he's kinda awful in some ways, and that he's deeply loved. He's a horrible little gremlin with bad lungs and worse social skills who bites, and he's LOVED.

As kind of an awful person myself (*this isn't self deprecating, gimme a sec), who's not at all okay with the idea of dying alone and unloved, Killie and your depiction of him is soothing.

*I'm not awful because I choose to be, and I know I have a lot of good qualities even if it takes my therapist bullying me into recognizing that I do, but due to both disability and just life in general, I'm sometimes not a pleasant person to be around. I'm irritable quite often, and I'm flaky even when I'm doing my absolute best not to be, and I'm overly sensitive sometimes, and don't know how to talk to people without talking about myself and trying to relate it back to them, and I'm messy...it's hard to imagine anyone loving me.

But even though Killie is a fictional character, there's enough 'loved in spite of and also for his flaws as much as his virtues' that helps me reroute the worst of those thoughts into something a little healthier.

So thank you? I think? Yeah. Thank you for your horrible horseboy and his long-suffering but steadfast partner.

(in reference to killie the horrible horseboy OC)

thank you so much for this. far from not looking at it, I have looked at it a lot. It made me think very hard and (hopefully very well) about what I'd like Throw Your Heart Over to be about, and what I'd like it to achieve for people. You remind me that, while it's all fun, what's most important is to be brave and true.

You are so very brave and true. I admire you very much for being so brave and true. I am humbled by it. It is a big, big thing and I don't quite know what to say. I think it is reductive and unhelpful to say things like there's someone for everyone! everyone deserves to be loved! when we live in a world where that doesn't happen, nor does everyone want to be partnered, nor does everyone want to be given to someone else as a partner. it's an automatic reflex when someone says "I don't feel lovable for these reasons," for other people to be dismissive of the reasons - as if that's helpful - or to instantly say "someone will love you!", as if there has simply been a administrative mistake in the assignation of one's soulmate. But that reflex doesn't do much good. Firstly, it's true that there are reasons that make love less easy for people, and pretending that love isn't work just makes people who don't get enough love feel rubbish. Secondly, there is no mechanism in the universe by which people are assigned their very own partner (and believing that there is can make people crunched-up and hurtful, if they're having trouble finding one.) So yeah! It probably IS hard to imagine finding someone! And that's okay! It means making your imagination stronger! Beefing up your imagination! getting your imagination buff and built! (insert montage of Killie attempting to lift weights with his mind.)

so I made this with you in mind, though I'm not sure it's all that I wanted to say. it was something about your fears might be true, but your hopes might be too; and in the event of someone loving you, you'll know that you will have something tremendously special, because you'll both have to be VERY brave and true with each other. and because of this, you will have a lot of evidence to show yourself how loved you are. You might be hard work, but to someone who loves you, it will be good work. and no weird ghosty worries, with or without antlers, or even your own self-doubts, will be able to take away how real that work will be.

I think you sound tremendously lovable. I think you make a great difference to the world. Thank you for making me more brave and true.

[kitts-mechanix]

This!

I really love your point on Star being a victim and an abuser. Because it's a cycle. I don't like it when people just make him an asshole, but I also don't like it when they make him a helpless sheep either, because he is very much capable of fighting or even killing someone. What I want is to see more media where we see Star have a reflection of guilt, being forced to examine his faults even if he won't ever admit them. Actually seeing firsthand what his actions do to others who aren't heartless psychopaths.

Because that internalized abuse is a defensive response, as well as those toxic rationalizations.

This! It's like a trauma response. It's how he copes with abuse. He dishes it out on Optimus here because that's all he knows. Like a kneejerk reaction. But when he realises he's hurting Optimus, and Optimus isn't reacting like Megatron, it forces Starscream to look at himself and realise he IS becoming like the one he hates the most--Megatron.

And even with Arcane, who treats him far better than anyone else has--Starscream kind of manipulates and takes advantage of that. He doesn't need to coerce her into treating him well, so he's more controlling in that relationship and feels safe being himself. He pushes those boundaries because he knows Arcane won't hurt him. But the minute she sets boundaries, he sees it as a threat and falls back into his old habits. He's resorting to the only response he knows--mirroring his abuser and "punching back".

I know my own anger and those moments of outbursts, and degrading words, can give this odd sense of hard release, in the moment. Until that loud silence that results can feel harsher than merely making your fist bleed punching a brick wall.

I get this 100%. "Reckless but honest words." That feeling of wanting to hurt someone back. Because when we do that, it's a temporary release, a rush where we can let out that anger the way it was dished to us, giving them a taste of their own medicine. But once the storm calms, everyone is hurt. I know how the weight of regret like that feels and it's never worth the temporary relief an outburst can give. I know I've had multiple episodes like that in my own family and even recently when my IRL nemesis. I have trauma from when she verbally abused me and cursed me out. And the last time I saw her, she tried to talk to me in that very fake nice way, like she was trying to be nice to me despite me not being nice to her (in her mind). And like Starscream, I mirrored her behaviour and cursed her off back. It was NOT the right thing to do. But it was a knee-jerk reaction from trauma.

It's rather interesting how so many of my OCs--including my self-inserts--almost always end up having kids and families when it's something I don't think I could ever do irl, largely because I don't want to subject them to what I had to deal with growing up. Because I know no matter how hard I try, I would have those moments where I act like my own family did. That's something I try to explore with Starcane and their sparklings, because Starscream kinda sees them as his little warriors and wants to mould them like himself which Arcane knows is both damaging and dangerous. Yet deep down Star doesn't actually want the sparklings to be subject to what he dealt with. But he also wants them to respect him. Something he never got from his fellow Decepticons. And kids are easier to manipulate.

And everything you said about the doge, is what I've experience with my cat. I project too much of my own experience with dogs on him and get frustrated sometimes when he's out of line and won't listen to my commands. Like when he tries to scratch or bite. He doesn't do it out of malice and he's only a year old so basically still a kitten who has to learn boundaries, but I've had nights where I've been frustrated and project the "you know better you just won't listen" mentality onto him. I forget cats aren't dogs. Like how Starscream sometimes forgets Arcane and OP aren't heartless dictators like Megatron. Or, on a sadder note, he tries to take advantage of their softer, kinder hearts because he deems it "weak"--even though he actually loves it when Arcane dotes on him.

i need to see more starop where starscream is having trouble breaking the cycle, so he falls back into his old habits.

one of the most difficult parts about breaking the cycle of abuse is trying your hardest to not repeat the behaviors your abuser imprinted on to you. speaking from experience, it can be very hard when you enter a healthy relationship and find yourself thinking like your abuser.

so imagine, starscream finally joins the autobots. by some unfortunate circumstance, they lose an important battle. optimus encourages his team, but privately, he retreats to somewhere isolated to think. starscream finds him and asks what he's doing.

when optimus admits that he's disappointed in himself for not doing the best he could on the battlefield, starscream finds himself scoffing. "well, maybe we wouldn't be in the position if you'd done a better job to begin with," he grumbles, his voice slowly escalating. "i thought you were supposed to be some great leader. or is your reputation all a myth? because of you, now the decepticons have the advantage, and we're one step closer to losing this war!" outraged that optimus hasn't said anything, he shouts, "are you even listening to me, prime?!"

when optimus turns his helm to look up, starscream is spooked by what he sees. he doesn't see the face of someone about to drop to his knees and beg for mercy. instead, the look in his normally lively blue optics can best be described as haunted, almost dead, but clinging onto the last shreds of life.

the realization hits starscream like enemy fire. his voice box shorts out as he trips over his own words, trying to take them back. one thought comes to mind, and he knows optimus is thinking it, too.

i sound like megatron.

[lowrezbonuslevel]

HELLO HI!! politely asking about 4 and 12 (for just tillda) and 9 (for tillda and zed!!) heehee

Let's start with 9 ("Does your OC have a mirror counterpart? If so, what is their mirror counterpart like?"):

At the moment, neither has one. But I did start wondering how Tillda, in particular, might react to someone else who DOES have a mirror counterpart... 🤔

(continued under the cut)

You ever get the vibe that the "old" Sectonia was fully gone once she was okay with hurting Taranza? I think for him, that person is his sister.

4 (Has your OC met Kirby? If they have, what is their relationship with him like?):

Nope! Tarantillda has never met him. She has been to Dream Land a time or two (long before the events of Triple Deluxe), but while she may have heard Kirby's name in passing, they've never actually happened upon one another.

12 (Is your OC open with their emotions, or do they tend to keep their feelings bottled up inside?):

I would say that, yes, Tillda does bottle up her feelings, but she rarely does it with intention. She just sees her negative and unresolved emotions as additional responsibilities to bear, and while she tries to make the best of things, she sometimes misdirects her anger/insecurity after keeping it to herself for too long.

[barmaidatthegarrison]

Green Eyes and Gunpowder (5/?)

Thomas Shelby x OC (Emily Hughes)

Summary - Sharp-tongued, steady-handed, and raised beside the Shelbys like blood, Dr. Emily Hughes weaves through their war for Birmingham with a surgeon’s precision—offering comfort, challenge, and quiet resistance, especially to the man who’s forgetting how to be anything but a weapon.

Word Count - 4,121

Warnings - Nothing that wasn't there before

A/N - Polly is Conniving and I support her.

Thanks for the support <3 Would love to know what you think!

Chapter 4

The anger carried Tommy into his confrontation with Ada and then his subsequent conversation at home with Polly. It even lasted until the betting shop had closed. He’d regretted what he said as soon as it came out of his mouth, but he was angry enough to ignore the guilt.

They weren’t supposed to have fucking secrets. Emily and him were supposed to share everything but she’d been keeping this secret for fucking months. A big fucking secret that he should have known about from the bloody beginning.

“Arthur, where’s Emily?”

It was Finn’s question that caught his attention. It was late, dinner long over and she still wasn’t home. The anger was still burning in his chest, but a tendril of worry had made its way in.

For his part, Arthur looked to Polly who shook her head.

“I don’t know, Finn. Ada, you hear from Emily?”

She shook her head, “Not since this morning.” She was giving Tommy quite a wide berth, but it may have only been because she was, for some reason, just as pissed at him as he was at her.

“Tommy?”

“No.” He said simply, pulling out yet another cigarette and lighting it.

“She’s probably at John’s.” Ada offered with a shrug. “You know she stays there to help with the kids sometimes. John’s useless at bedtime.”

John was useless at all times since Martha had died.

Arthur didn’t look pleased with Ada’s suggestion, Tommy didn’t feel pleased with it either, but he seemed to accept it. Maybe she’d just forgotten to let anyone know she’d not be home. Or maybe it was another fucking secret.

“She said she’d read with me tonight.” Finn showed his book to Arthur with a sad pout. Black Beauty, Emily had bought that for him just yesterday.

“It’s a story about a real horse.” The book wasn’t too long, but it had a green cover and a drawing of a horse on the front. “In the book, the horse is the one who tells his own story.”

“The horse tells the story?” He asked, disbelieving. She nodded, reaching around his body on her lap to take her teacup off the table. “Horses can’t tell stories, Emmy! That’s silly!”

He tried not to laugh at the disgust in his littlest brother’s tone, Emily hiding her own smirk in the hair at the back of Finn’s head.

“That’s true, sweetie.” She said, infinitely patient. Always so fucking patient with the Shelby boys. “I think I explained bad. Remember we were talking about fiction and non-fiction? This is fiction. The horse was real, but his owner tells the story and pretends it’s the horse doing it.”

Finn’s face scrunched up, taking the book from Emily’s hands and running his fingers over the design on the front. He loved horses, like Tommy did, like Emily did, or more like they had before. Before, when all they wanted to do was ride them and care for them. When this life would never have occurred to them.

“Okay. Can we read it now?”

“Not now, Finn. Tonight. Right now, you need to finish your breakfast and then I’ll take you to school.”

And there went that acceptance. Emily was strict about not breaking her word to Finn if she could help it. He’d been clingier since they all came back, almost afraid they would leave again, and Emily had been working hard to make sure he felt better.

He thought of that bullet with his name on it, could practically feel it digging through his pocket and into his thigh. But that was just for him, right? There’s no way the Lees would–

“I’ll read with you, Finn.” Ada offered, gesturing their little brother over but he crossed his arms and shook his head.

“No. Emily reads with me.” There was that touchiness. “We’re going to learn the horse’s story together!”

“Call John.” Tommy directed that command to Polly. “Make sure she’s there.”

She wasn’t. When Polly shook her head at him, Tommy immediately looked over at Arthur who was already poised to go searching.

It took a good couple of hours, but eventually the bartender at the Marquis told them he’d seen her. She had a few drinks earlier in the evening and then left with a man he didn’t know. Tommy ground his teeth when he said the man’d been chatting her up for a while before they left.

“Blimey, couldn’t she had said something if she went looking for a fuck.” Arthur groused, tossing his jacket back on the hook, ignorant to how the source of Tommy’s anger had partially shifted. “Could have saved us so much bloody time. I’m going to bed.”

Tommy didn’t follow and he didn’t intend to rest.

She was back decently early the next morning. John hadn’t made it in, and Ada was still asleep, but everyone else was around. Breakfast hadn’t been made yet. Tommy had lost track of his cigarettes at this point, exhausted and somehow angrier.

Polly, Arthur, and his eyes immediately shot to her when she came onto the betting shop floor. She was wearing the same clothes from yesterday, making a beeline for the stairs.

“Good morning.” That’s all she had to say?

“Where the fuck have you been, eh?”

Emily stopped in her tracks and regarded him flatly, noticing at last the way all three of them were staring at her. Tommy didn’t yell but he was aware of how harsh he sounded.

“Out.” Contrastingly, her voice was even. Controlled. Removed.

“You didn’t come home last night and that’s all you have to fucking say?”

Her eyebrows raised at him, something about the lack of warmth in her gaze made him uncomfortable. It pushed into the guilt that had made a home in his chest. He leaned into his anger enough to ignore it.

“What of it?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He was toeing the line of yelling now, but he couldn’t stop himself.

She sighed and turned away from him back towards the stairs.

“I am not your family, Tommy. You made that fact effusively clear yesterday. You are not entitled to my whereabouts just because you want them.”

The guilt reared its ugly head and suddenly even his anger wasn’t strong enough to keep it at bay, draining away to near nothing. He’d regretted it as soon as he’d said it, and even more so now. He hadn’t fucking meant that. He’d just been so angry, because he was so frightened.

Halfway through her ascent, she added over her shoulder: “I’m going to change and then I’ll telephone Patrick – I haven’t forgotten, if that’s your concern.”

It took about a minute for him to move, finally remembering that they hadn’t been alone during that argument when he saw Arthur and Pol staring at him, the former surprised and the latter disappointed. He didn’t bother to say anything to them, didn’t even bother to take the time to hear what they were going to say – it couldn’t be any worse than what he was thinking.

“Fuck me.” He growled, extinguishing the butt of his cigarette in an ashtray and quickly making his way upstairs.

“People normally knock.” Emily said, placidly. Even her sarcasm felt flat.

He shut the door behind him and let out a huff of air. She wasn’t looking at him, hadn’t even turned around when he barged in, still staring into the darkness of her closet.

“If you’re going to ask where I was again, can we skip ahead in that conversation and begin directly from the part where I ask you to leave? It remains none of your concern.”

Her tone was clipped, controlled. This was how she spoke to other people, people she didn’t trust. One night, after they’d drank a bottle of whiskey between just them, she admitted that talking posh when she was at school was her way of protecting herself. Slipping in larger words, changing the structure of her sentences, even softening her accent. She said it distanced her from the conversation, made her feel more secure. That the person she was talking to didn’t respect her and it was her own version of a shield when she knew someone was looking down on her.

She said she wished she’d had the knowledge to be able to pull it off when her mother was still in her life. That she thought it might have been helpful against someone that hurt her, that maybe it would have made little her feel a bit less worthless.

She was doing it to him right now.

Drunkenly slurring, “I mean I can control my emotions, yeah? That’s all bloody good and all, keeps me from losing it when I know I shouldn’t, but the posh bit’s good at making me feel bigger. Can’t hurt me if I’m bigger, yeah?”

“It’s odd.”

He was leaned back against the pile of hay just outside Charlie's yard. They had laid there staring at the moon together. Tomorrow she would have to head back to school for another few months.

He’d heard her talking posh when someone had phoned the house looking for her, someone she obviously didn’t want to talk to.

“Hearing you talk like that. I don’t like it.”

She giggled at that, “Good thing I don’t need to do it around you then, eh?”

The way she’d beamed at him made his chest feel full. He was going to miss her constantly till she was back home.

“I’m sorry.” He was. He really was. “Okay? I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“No need to apologise.” She offered, still so fucking flat. He hated this fucking tone, hated having this version of Emily talking to him. “You were just speaking your mind. Though perhaps less loudly in the future should you feel yourself getting angry in the stables; you nearly spooked the horse.”

She pulled a new blouse out of the closet, a blue one, and laid it down on her bed. Moving away, she found a new focus of attention in her dresser. The floor creaking as she shifted. Emily still didn’t even glance at him once. And she was still talking like that.

“Em.” He heard the pleading in his own voice. The sadness.

She hummed in acknowledgement, her eyes finally flicking over to look at him before returning to the skirt she grabbed.

“Can you please leave me? I need to get dressed.” She placed the skirt on her bed, and finally turned vaguely in his direction, but she stillwasn’t looking at him and she was still talking like that. “I’ll let you know when I call Patrick so you can listen in, that way you can be assured I’m doing as I promised.”

She really thought he didn’t trust her. She wasn’t forgiving him. She always forgave him. Why wasn’t she forgiving him?

He took a step closer to her and saw the way she tensed, afraid, and it felt like someone had just punched him in the stomach. His step stuttered. Did she think he would hurt her? That he could ever hurt her?

Steeling himself, he got close enough to reach out and take her hands. They were cold – she was always cold, always had been since they were kids. That’s why there were two blankets on her bed and why she carried a pair of gloves with her no matter what season it was. She tried to pull away, but he held firm.

“What do you want from me?” It was the first time her voice wasn’t flat, but she sounded so exhausted that it ached just as fiercely.

“I want you to forgive me.”

She sighed. “You just told me what you thought, and you were right. I’m not a Shelby, this is your family, not mine. I don’t have one.” The bitter twist in her words felt like someone had physically stabbed him. “I had no right to be making deals on your behalf. However, I will not apologize for keeping Ada’s confidence, because even if I’m not her family, I am her friend. I do not owe you her secrets.”

“You are family. Of course you’re fucking family.” He could hear the anger building in his tone again, the sharpness, but this time it was solely directed at himself. “I didn’t mean what I said. I was an ass, love. We’re your family and you’re the heart of us.”

She was the only heart he had left.

She tried to turn from him, move her gaze away so he wouldn’t see the heartbreak in her eyes. The doubt and fear, the loneliness of being excluded from the only people she had in the world. This was what she had been trying to hide behind her tough front, beneath her education and false confidence.

Threading fingers into dark curls, he pulled her into his arms. Still tense, he held on until she relaxed, until her arms came around him too, until she let her head rest on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean it.”

“I forgive you.” And his shoulders relaxed.

The plan she had made, the deal she had struck with O’Hare, was a good one. It was more than he was ever going to get, and he told her as much. Told her not to call it off. She told him to stop fucking apologizing when she’d already forgiven him. He chuckled.

“Tired, Emmy?” Her weight leaned more heavily into him, but he wasn’t ready to let go just yet. It soothed him to have her close. If he couldn’t have her the way he wanted, he could at least have these moments.

She hummed. “Katie and Leo kept me up half the night. I love John’s kids, but God they need more structure than he gives them.”

But now he had to pull back, just enough to look at her face, brow creasing. “Pol called John last night, said you weren’t there.”

And he ignored the anger that flared at the idea of her sharing another man’s bed. The possessive fury.

It was her turn to look at him funny. “I was though. Got in close to ten. I told Pol I’d be spending the night at his; asked her to break the news to Finn that I couldn’t read with him last night and tell him I’d make it up to him today.”

Wait what? Pol told them she wasn’t at John’s.

“What about that bloke at the Marquis? Barman said he was chatting you up.”

She blinked at him, lost. He knew when she was lying… and she wasn’t lying. Why would Pol keep this from them?

“Yeah. I went for a drink, met up with Dr. Haddington by chance, and…” Taking a step back, he didn’t let her get too far, grabbing her hand again and threading their fingers together. Comfort. “I got my old job back. I’m starting at the hospital next week.”

She continued on about how she’d let him walk her to John’s since it was so late, and then he’d gone home to his wife, but Tommy was too focused on his own disappointment.

“I thought…” He trailed off. He thought she was going to help him run the business, lead the family side-by-side. They were supposed to do this together.

It was like she read his mind, knew what the unhappiness in his eyes meant.

“I’m still going to help, Tommy. With anything and everything you want. I will always be what you need me to be.” It sounded like a vow because it was a vow. She’d made this vow before, and she’d always lived up to it. “But you were right yesterday, this is your family, your family business. And I’m a doctor, I should be doing that work or what was the point of that degree you worked so hard to pay for, eh?”

What he’d said yesterday. Yesterday she had been happy to work full time for the company. Yesterday this wouldn’t have been more than a passing thought that she dismissed. Yesterday he said a stupid thing and even if she’d forgiven him, she still took in what he said, still changed because of it.

This was going to take more than an apology.

People were happy again. Monaghan Boy had lost his race, but the people of Birmingham got their money back. It was a smart strategy, especially after the raids had pissed so many off, since the Inspector had pinned his reasoning on the Peaky Blinders.

But good will was something that came easily to them from the people of the city and, for the life of her, Grace could not understood why.

Watching the Shelbys, as she tended to do when they were at the Garrison, she could tell something was just slightly off that night despite the more jovial atmosphere. Tommy seemed tense, and he was sticking very close to Emily. At one point, she watched him glare John out of his seat, the one closest to the doctor, so that he could take it himself.

“Is everything alright?” Grace asked casually, grabbing another bottle of gin for Arthur. The oldest looked surprised and then confused.

“I don’t know – you all look tense.” She offered when he didn’t say anything. She wasn’t going to name Tommy specifically, but she didn’t need to.

Arthur chuckled, “You noticed that, eh?” He took a drag of his cigarette. “Tommy put his foot in it with Emily. They fought; they made up. He always gets touchy after. Should have seen them as kids, he’d apologise to her then trail after her for days like a bleeding dog.” His teasing tone turned more serious as he watched the pair for a moment, saw Emily lean up and whisper something into Tommy’s ear that made him smile. How was she able to get him to smile so easily? “He needs her though, always has. Don’t know where we’d be without her.”

He took the bottle with a nod and headed back into the snug, door shutting loudly behind him.

Harry really hadn’t been kidding when he’d told her how important Dr. Hughes was to the family. The inspector had already tried to get through to her, tried to get her to give something up, but even Grace knew she was a tough woman. Still, if even a fraction of what she knew about her relationship with the Shelbys was true, there wasn’t a doubt that she knew where those guns were.

“He’s going to show up.” They didn’t often talk at night when one of them had found their way into the other’s bed. But tonight… sleep was elusive. Tommy’s head was still tucked under her chin and her fingers were running soothingly through his hair, but she knew he was awake.

His grip around her waist tightened briefly. “I know how to deal with Billy Kimber.”

“I know you do, Tommy. You aren’t as hard to read as you think you are. You’re going to get him to want to meet you at Cheltenham, play on his ego, and leverage the Lee’s feud. I know.” She pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “I just worry.”

“There’s nothing to worry about, love. Not with you helping.” His voice was softer, quieter. The whispering made everything feel less dangerous. “Besides, you’ll come to the races with me. Get to watch out for yourself.”

“If we get tossed out again, you have to buy me dinner, you hear me, Thomas?”

She could feel his smile, lighting up at the memory of how they’d snuck into the VIP area as teens and only got half a dance before they were escorted out. It’d started raining, but Tommy insisted on finishing the dance. No restaurant would let them in soaking as they were.

“I promise.”

“Freddie’s been our friend for years.” Emily said simply.

Tommy watched as she flipped the page in her book, not looking up at him. How was her version of an easy day sitting in his office with him? The letter Polly had given him still sat between them on the desk. If Emily hadn’t been in the room when he’d gotten it, he probably would have tossed it in the fire immediately.

He hummed, pulling out a cigarette.

“The three of us used to be thick as thieves, Tommy. He took a bullet for you in France.” Her hand tightened on the book, and he said nothing. “I remember digging it out of him. I remember the story about what happened.”

His jaw worked. He remembered when Freddie made it back to the front, telling him that Emily’d been the one to patch him up. Told him she looked worn, tired, but so fucking relieved to hear that he and Freddie were doing as well as they could. Hearing about her, getting the letter that she sent with Freddie, made the last few months more bearable.

“Do you really trust him so little now?” Now she looked up, but quickly her eyes went back down.

“All this communism shit’s gone to his head.” He bit out. This was uncomfortable at best. “He’s not the man he was.”

She closed the book then, squinting at him.

“Who is?”

Leaning forward, he took a deep drag of his cigarette. At least she was looking at him properly now, no longer hiding herself away. Still afraid, but he was working to keep himself in check, hoping she wouldn’t retreat again.

He’d made her scared of pushing too far. Made her feel like she didn’t belong. And now he had to deal with the consequences. A part of him was still relieved that she was still willing to give her opinion without being prompted. That was a good sign.

“I can’t trust him anymore.” The words came out sounding like a confession more than the cold statement Tommy intended.

“Do you trust me?”

His eyes shot back up, words coming out automatically. “More than anyone.”

“Okay.” She nodded, as if that wasn’t already a given. As if there was any way she wasn’t the most loyal person he knew. “Can you trust that I trust him? He loves her. He’s still the same smarmy troublemaker he was when we were racing horses and climbing buildings… and so are you. Even if both of you show it differently now.”

She was the same too. Sitting here with her, he still felt like he had before the War: at home. He knew he was colder, more reserved, less gentle. And he wasn’t going to deny that she was quieter, sadder, and the harshest parts of her personality came out more often than they had before. But being around her made him feel like him again, like the him before, like the him he didn’t know how to be around anyone else if she wasn’t there too.

“Tommy.” Her voice was soft, soft in a way it was whenever she was trying to extinguish a quarrel within the family.

“Tommy, come on. Arthur, stop!” Her eyes had flicked between the two brothers. Grabbing the older Shelby by the wrist, she had stopped him from rushing out the door in a rage.

For his own part Tommy had been shaking, filled with fury. He couldn’t remember now what the fight had been about – they were many back in the day, but they were the things brothers had been supposed to fight about, they hadn’t been as bad as now. Hadn’t been about money or gang feuds or killing.

He didn’t want to fight with his brothers now. He hadn’t then either. But he just couldn’t stop sometimes.

“Please. For me?” Her voice had cracked, tears in her eyes.

Her mother had just disappeared with her little brother, Polly and their mother had just taken her in. This had been the first fight since she’d moved in properly. Overwhelmed at the yelling, at the anger, shaking in fear and terrified that this would be the thing to pull them apart and send yet another family the way of the first.

Arthur’s shoulders had fallen when he had realised that she had started crying. Anger tempered with concern, frustration at Tommy still obvious but less volatile. Even then, Emily hadn’t been a crier, had always been so strong, so seeing it was enough to stop him in his tracks.

Just as he had then, Tommy sighed and let go of the anger growing in his chest. Leaning back in his chair, he took a sip of his drink.

“What are you reading?”

In the corner of his eye, he saw her smirk. She knew she had won.

---

Tagged: @weaponizedvirtue, @taorislover94 @maaxxxaam

[wigglesdtuff]

I feel like I definitely think about Olive more than I should. I'm not really into ocs that often but at this point she is just real to me. Like yes, Robin and Franky have a baby girl her name is Olive what do you mean she isn't canon. She's a cutie, I love the idea of her having permanently messy unruly blue hair, and I believe Robin actually really likes that she looks so much like franky. I love the idea of Robin having someone that belongs to her, makes my heart ache in the best way. The fic is genuinely so delightful and takes up a lot of space in my head lol thank you for writing it!

No but like genuinely same.

I know fankids aren't everyone's cup of tea and that's totally understandable and respectable. I just personally love the idea of Robin getting to give the love she clearly has for others to someone so wholly. Someone she could make sure never felt the loneliness and isolation she experienced growing up. I think there's plenty of avenues to explore this, but something about having a kid on the ship like Roger and Whitebeard did makes me run in circles. It can be done - it has been done. She's so strong and kind, I just think that she would genuinely love to love another person the way she wanted to be loved. The way, as an adult, she knows she was loved, the world was and is just too complicated and cruel it didn't work out. I love the complexities of motherhood in stories having a complicated relationship with my own mother and far off dreams of being one myself, so it's almost for sure projection, but I find it a very fun way to do that in a way that I get to share some character analysis of my favoritest character at the same time. Anyways, I'm happy to know someone else thinks about her all the time because I truly feel insane sometimes lol. I'm glad I've been able to connect with a lot of folks! Thank you for reading :> She is so real and canon to me too. I also think Robin loves that she has Franky's hair, because who on earth wouldn't love genetic bright blue hair without having to dye it??? Also I think Franky knows how to fix the messiness, because he's experienced with it, so sometimes she lets him do her hair while she does his... Ugh I just love them. The family. The abandoned building something new and whole together. Weird, but all love!!!

[flovoid]

I emerged from the shadows only to make oc questions jeje 😌

6,14,7 for Rain-17,8,3 for Theo- 19,36 for Chief- 24 taiga

I have more, I'll be back 😈

I LOVE YOU FRIEND THIS GOING TO BE FUN!

‘RAIN’

[6] How direct are they in conversations, do they speak in hints and riddles or bluntly say what they think?

This one funny ‘cause Rain literally would tell anyone that today he almost lost his vision of how much fighting he did— bro laughs about it! This guy… he even gets into arguments with his Mom because of this…

[7] Are they a good liar, and what would they probably lie about?

When it comes to Rain I feel he can get good at lying sometimes; especially if his family saw him missing for hours and ask him where the heck was he. If he was at underground fighting clubs he would lie…

Since he joined Mobwives, it’s seems only Chief who can caught him lying, busted!

[14] What does it take to make them laugh, and what does their laugh sound like?

Rain is a free-spirit guy! Anything can make him laugh, even if the situation gets serious, dude would be excited just to be present. HIS LAUGH DEFINITELY SOUNDS LIKE GIGGLES (its adorable omg) if only I have an audio for that AAAAA

THEO

[3] What emotion is the hardest for them to deal with?

I feel when it’s about Theo, like yes sometimes he can get grumpy or even being known as a stubborn guy. But this is the most emotion he actually struggle with. He would get angry at himself only because he feels angry— Whata situation.

[8] How open they are about their true feelings, both positive and negative?

Theo is very closed off for now, especially after leaching out at his father, him witnessing wonders in his four years at the military training camp, being alone for too long…

He can be open expressing his feelings at anything but himself.

[17] What is their biggest struggle that no one around them is able to understand or believe?

Theo struggles at understanding strangers who are just simply… kind. In exchange, whoever treats him kindly does struggle to understand Theo’s stubbornness behavior around them. (wink wink at fiona & a future character… fox)

‘CHIEF’

[19] If they could change one thing about their past, what would they change?

To refuse her current adoptive mother to take her in. lore RWAGEAHAGAG

[36] Do they own items that have sentimental value?

Chief worked with so many people in her adulthood life, if any of those people gave her something to keep, she would.

It can be random stuff really, a paper with no use of, a bottle of empty wine, a well made knife for carving seafood, pretty much is.

TAIGA

[24] How hard it is for them to not allow their emotions to cloud their judgement?

Even though Tatsuo doesn’t see it yet, but Taiga grew up pretty maturely really with his judgements! He used to make lots of bad decisions back in his yakuza days where he placed his emotions over whats right. But now, his lifestyle seems less intense and his mindset in the clear so, if Taiga would take Mingyue to a new place— Tatsuo shouldn’t be worried honestly, Trust in him!

[modelxis]

Do you have any mmzx oc?

I do, actually! you can check the mmzx oc in my search tag (i should make a separate tags for OCs and my arts on this blog)

tbh, i can't really say much💦

Not that i want to keep them as secret, more like my head is a messy place, even i forgot details from times to times Also like, i tend to re-use NPCs and give them roles...so...saying they are my OCs are... not correct😅

well, i can give you a quick run down about them here if you're interested in reading my messy writing

🛵Giro Express transporter

these two are the one so far that i'm fine with the designs (they are adopts from @/noeggets (go check them out, really cool artist) these aren't their real names, rather code-names that they used to hide their true identities, or precisely their old past 🛵Blue-hair girl is Mint, she focus on communicating with customers and all the paper works jobs, she good at hacking, has trouble with addiction which confuse a lot of people cuz' why a Reploid has that sort of problem, she actually exists since mmz era, and know Rouge, the operator of the Resistance. She was one of few people that works inside NA and help the Resistance by giving coordination to Rouge so Zero can have a safe transportation into certain areas. 🛵Purple hair girl is Campanula (the flower, Canterbury bells), a human (she is in mid 20s, just very short) , mainly works in storage, she is a skilled mechanic so she tend to helps with fixing the vehicles, mainly Aile because Aile tend to go into far more restricted-dangerous zones, sometimes the Guardian base would require her helps, despite her cheerfulness and outgoing attitude at first glance, she has troubles express her true thoughts and critics unless she feel comfortable around you.

(not final design) 🛵His name is Tomi, Yes, he count as an employees, he "disguise" himself as a motorcycle for delivering, mainly Aile use him. a mavericks gone "rouge" cuz' he got effected by the virus which was made by Campanula, it's not that he became more docile or kind, altho Campanula made sure he is incapable of attacking specifically her, he just...become more self-aware of his existence and decided that he prefer using his skill for st else other than be treated as a secondary mini-boss. He does genuinely like Campanula due to her carefulness when its come to machines, even to Mavericks like him. Other than her, Aile is another one that he also like because she impressed him with her riding skills (think of all the stunt from GTA video games) which lead to him admiring human tendency to seek danger as some sort of fun challenges. (he is one of the few OCs that i considered to be the oldest cuz' i had this concept for a long time ever since i played mmz)

(not final design, also thank you @/tyrantchimera for the sketch! Check their blog out, they are both cool artist and writer) 🛵Her name is Lake, she named it herself (or you can say OP is very uncreative when it comes to naming, lol) Another Mavericks gone "rouge", she became docile when failed to fully control Model L. she is one of few test subjects for Serpent to check how he can manipulate Ciel's biometals for his troops, Leviathan's subconscious "convinced" Lake to turn good which she success and Lake managed to escaped Serpent's controls but failed to take model L with her. She encountered Aile post-Ouroboros downfall, helping to pinpoint the leftover pieces of model Ws to ensure they stayed dead. (Aile didn't reveal Vent who was helping them finding the pieces, why tho? no idea currently, lol...) Then later on, she was saved by Aile and worked as some sort of submarine to transport packages and all sort of heavy stuffs across sea.

❌Others

(not the final design) This old Reploid guy is Leo (funny enough, he is "younger" than Mint) He was made around the same time as Prometheus and Pandora (he doesn't know them but aware of their reputation) but instead of staying youthful, he remain as old (simply for aesthetic choice, "old-looking people are cool") He is a skilled mechanic, also a trader for rare parts and "illegal" equipments for people who don't want Legion's eyes on them (especially with the news about Master Albert gone Mavericks, lots more people been looking into this type of service)

Well, these are the one that has designs I have a loooot more, but they are all from a long time ago, and i do wish i can find those old papers again but not like i will reuse the designs.

well, i hope some of these make sense if you managed to read it all.

[javierduffy]

went back to comfort zone and ... got stuck there

[kirisclangen]

Larchpaw

She/her, 8 moons, cis molly

[kasper7489]

I kinda hopped into the dc fandom by reading fics (I know I know lmao)

But as I've read more comics and looked into different characterization and analysis I now have a more developed idea as to how I view a lot of the characters and have preferences to how their written. I'm def the type to click out a fic if I find myself thinking 'he would not fucking say that'

Anyway this is just to say it's very funny to me when I go thru some of the fics I bookmarked at the begining of my interest and find myself going Uh Oh! I don't think I can read this anymore!

[loderlied]

sharing some thoughts about deactivating here because it’s been difficult pondering idk.

[creation-help]

Do you have an oc that you kinda wanna kill off but can't bring yourself to, for whatever reason?

[teh-nos]

the number of notes on x reader fics here vs on the 'normal' fic posts i see is... kind of demotivating? but then i am the kind of person who has to hide stats on ao3 to stop myself spiralling into (further) madness.

[marshbarks]

this is smth thats not gonna make sense to most ppl who follow me but 'm Thinking again so tag rambly