#I need to draw her with her violin more | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name · 7 months ago

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okay so TENATIVE predictions for season 4: it looks like they're going to be playing into the mandela effect. half the universe remembers the umbrella timeline, half the universe remembers the sparrow timeline, and the ONLY thing both groups remember is Ben.

I've been praying since day one that Ben will have memories of both lives in his head, and judging by the fact he appears to be Going Through It in the trailer I assume that'll be the case.

since Ben is at the center of the conspiracy, I almost want to say he's who they're supposed to be rescuing? like, maybe instead of One Ben Two Lives, it's Two Bens One Cup. I don't think they'll do that, though. They're probably trying to rescue Jennifer. HOWEVER I do think it would be really sexy if Nick Offerman and Megahn Mullally weren't playing a couple but were instead playing the same person from different universes (hence being named Gene and Jean), and they somehow found each other and that's why they're leading this conspiracy.

Mystery Jennifer is stressing me out. obviously by the glowing she's got something going on. I'm thinking there's a possibility she was erased from the family's memories after Ben's death- the trailer makes it seem like Reginald made Allison rumor them after the fact. there's probably a decent chance they all knew her, she lost control of her powers, Ben died, Reginald locked her away and erased all traces of her. maybe in the sparrow timeline she died instead, or maybe she was always locked up there and Ben was drawing her from memories that were already starting to leak through from the og timeline, but either way probably in trying to uncover how Ben died they figure out they have to save her. idk!

also, six is like. a random number of years I'm sorry. why wouldn't they just say five years later? maybe another thing to do with Ben bc umbrella Ben was number six? I'm probably reading too much into that one.

I'm truly SO scared they're gonna reveal none of them have spoken during the time skip. Five doesn't deserve that 😭😭. in my perfect world him and Viktor have an apartment but the show writers 100% forgot they said those two were best friends when they were kids judging by the rest of the series rip. when the Gene and Jean characters were first announced I thought maybe Five got stuck in the foster system and they took him in, and that could still be the case (maybe that's how they noticed the universe is a lie in the first place, the boy loves to Yap) but I think it's less likely now idk

if Diego and Lila's daughter isn't named Gracie....what was this all for. what was this all building towards. what's the point. LMFAO I know the popular fanon one is Anita (personally in my head I've been calling her Poppy and I Don't Know Why) but like Gracie is the only name that makes sense, Diego is Too Much of a mama's boy to accept anything else.

this one isn't a prediction it's just a demand- I DEMAND a white violin icon moment set to extraordinary girl by green day. they can 100% get away with just doing an instrumental version since Viktor's not a girl lmfao, but it literally Haunts Me that they didn't do that at the end of season 1 (or at LEAST play the opening of letterbomb when Viktor was in the basement hallucinating) so they NEED to make up for that. it's the last season. play the fucking song oh my God.

there might be too much going on to bring the sparrows back in any meaningful way, but like! I liked them! I especially wanted more Marcus last season, he and Viktor had good chemistry. and Fei was an icon. Why Are We Hiding Sloane Tho. I considered maybe they were rescuing Sloane, but like, Luther just seems a little too happy for that to be the case? that's why I also think Diego and Lila's kid isn't the one being rescued like I saw some theories suggest- Diego is so excited and Lila's grinning in the car scene. can't imagine their 5 year old is missing.

Five is absolutely gonna die. like I'm sorry since episode 1 there's never been a believable outcome where everything's okay and he lives. HOWEVER I think there's a very strong chance the series could end with the timeline is finally saved and set right, and grandpa Five died- but then right at the end 2002 baby Five shows up and gets stuck in the safe timeline. Five has been a walking paradox the whole series. it'd be bittersweet to lose the Five we love, but know that he's still technically getting a happy ending because he doesn't have to live through the apocalypse and become an assassin. I think that's like the best outcome we can hope for.

I think it'd be EXTREMELY funny if Reginald is just super nice now that Abigail is back. like the entire excuse for 30 years of insane behavior was that he missed his wife. bestie there are better ways to cope than abusing superpowered kids </3 but lmao I'm intrigued by him and Viktor being together in both trailers! I've always gotten the feeling that Viktor is one of his 'favorites' (to the best of his ability anyway), and from the brief childhood flashbacks we see that he had baby V acting as an assistant for him, so I'd like to see their relationship expanded a little bit. honestly I just want a lot about Reginald cleared up- he does give off the distinct impression that he actually cares about his kids, even though he's abusive. I'm assuming the explanation will be something along the lines of 'well I always planned to bring you back and safe in the New Universe', that he was approaching it as a 'they have to suffer now to save the universe, and then they can be happy' mindset. that would be interesting. but I'm also a little worried they'll wave his behavior off with 'oh he's an alien he just can't understand how he affected them', which, would suck writing-wise.

I'm worried about Allison- I'm sure they're gonna want her to have a full redemption by the end of the series, but what she did to Viktor and Luther last season...like I just don't know that they'll pull off a meaningful redemption, to where it's believable that they forgive her (other than the fact they're both softies and push overs). not with the shorter season, anyway! I *think* the person Viktor was punching in the trailer was Allison. but I'm worried that instead of actually fixing the issue the writers will just have her do a sacrifice play. especially since, bless her, she's the least sacrificial person in the family, so I could see the argument that it'll be a meaningful character growth moment, but like...if they don't actually have her believably fix her mistakes it'll just feel like a lazy writing move. also, I love her and I don't want any of them to die. as I said, the only death I'm willing to accept is Five's WITH the promise of baby Five getting a happy ending.

I want the Handler to come back, even if it's only for one scene. sorry, I think her absence was one of the low points of season 3.

I think if Grace appears in this season at all it won't be the robot version we're used to, but an older version of her human self that Diego met in the 60s. could be very bittersweet. I just don't think the robot exists in this universe bc honestly if my husband revived me from the dead but then I found out he's been living without me just fine, but made a robot copy of a pretty young fling he had after my death and seemingly can't live without her. I'd be a little pissed! sorry! lmao that said I also have personally been headcannoning that Grace is actually a cyborg and not a robot this whole time, the kids just don't know because of all the insane protocols Reginald set up, so if they do something with that instead I'll be really excited.

Diego and Lila's daughter deserves powers<3

alright I think that's all I got for now. but I wanna hear more theories!!

#tua #umbrella academy #the umbrella academy #tua season 4 #molly mumbles

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kkongdakz · 2 years ago

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“ KISS ME. ” ft. zb1's hyung line

synopsis : what it’s like to make out with hyung line?

hyung line x gn!reader, genre : fluff & suggestive, warning : suggestive for some of them, wc : 1,445

after a long week of hard work, a movie night with your boyfriend jiwoong was all you deserved. and not the least of all : the first one he had chosen was none other than the famous titanic movie. the popcorn dish on his lap, one of your arms was hanging on his, the other picking a handful of popcorns before stuffing them in your mouth under the amused look of jiwoong. without paying more attention to his reactions, the film arrived at this famous scene, where rose asks jack to draw a portrait of her. being attentive to the least of their words, you do not notice the eyes of your boyfriend fixed and tenderly placed on your concentrated face. after a few seconds, you finally turn your face towards his, telling him in the most serious way : « draw me like one of your french girl. » — thanks to the weak light, you could not see the tip of his ears reddened, but in less time than it takes to say it, jiwoong's arms pushed you back, lovingly pressing his lips against yours. it was feverish and warm, his hands roaming your body in the most exquisite way, while your stomach was caught in a whirlwind of crazy butterflies. his fingers touching your boiling skin almost made you dizzy, not to mention his sweet way of kissing you. it was a mixture of feverishness and loving delicacy, it was addictive.

which is more cool than having a private music teacher, is to have the most talented boy in town as a teacher. and by that, i mean the one and only zhang hao. the irony was, you could play the violin almost perfectly, but your mother thinks you still need practice — so she did everything to make you the best and most complete teacher to the prodigy. but hao noticed very quickly that you didn't need help, but he feigns innocence so that he can continue to come to you at any time. and today was one of those days, you were studying together for your next recital, but your mind was occupied elsewhere, which prevented you from concentrating. « you're okay? » he said suddenly, as you let go of the firm grip you had on your ropes. « i don't know, i feel like my fingers are weak. » — hao suddenly moved into the room, slipping behind you to gently place his fingers above yours, guiding your movements. you could feel his breath tickling your neck from the close proximity, and when he whispered in your ear, you felt like fireworks in your heart. « let yourself be guided. » his voice was like a siren song : bewitching and delicious. activating your fingers on your instrument, you finished the latter without a hitch, almost perfectly. but that didn't make him pull away from you, instead hao leaned in to place a warm kiss against your shoulder, moving dangerously up to your neck and then your jaw. then his delicate fingers slipped over your chin, turning your face to place his lips against yours, kissing you with a rhythmic cadence worthy of the greatest opera authors. kissing hao was like writing your own ballet, with all the passion and dedication of creating a masterpiece. his deft fingers got rid of your violin, grabbing your hips to tape you to him, leaving no space between your two bodies eager for contact.

one thing to know about hanbin is that he is an excellent dance teacher. one thing to know about you is that you are a really bad student. easily distracted, and somewhat lazy at times, you'd much rather watch his fluid movements than follow the rhythm. which you were actually doing. sitting against the dance hall mirror, staring at hanbin's bustling figure, you wondered how a human being could be this hot when covered in sweat. you were so deep in thought that you didn't even notice that the music was over, and that hanbin was now facing you with a smile on his face. « did you remember? » he asked you almost out of breath, which made you come back to your senses. grabbing the water bottle next to you as well as the towel, coming to sponge his forehead, you slid on your knees to approach him under his attentive glance. « of course, i remember your every move. » your voice was warmer than expected, which caused hanbin to smirk. without waiting a second more, your lips were against his, exchanging a passionate kiss that followed a frenzied rhythm. kissing hanbin was like a tango sequence, it was hot, passionate, burning like a summer sun. his arms slipped over your hips to bring your body closer to his, his body heat mingling with yours, while your hands went up to his cheeks, keeping his boiling face close to yours. kissing hanbin was like a hot summer — passionate, energetic and the one you never want to get to the end of.

having been best friends with matthew all your life, led you to see him get hit by puberty like a truck. and lately, something in your feelings towards him seemed to have changed — you became jealous of other people who come close to him, on the verge of possessiveness. and matthew had noticed this, but never told you. so today, as he was finishing his shift in the cafe where he worked, and you were waiting patiently for him to come back home together, you noticed this girl who was too insistent on him. she put her hands on him in an almost inappropriate way, while he didn't seem to pay attention — far too concerned with having perfectly satisfied a customer again. as she finally exited the cafeteria, he hastened to lock the door and close the blinds behind her, as you approached the counter to help him with the chores. but suddenly his hands were on either side of your body, trapping you between the counter and his muscular torso. pivoting towards him, your dark look made him laugh slightly, « why are you so mad? » shrugging your shoulders, not determined to give him an answer, you didn't expect matthew to lift you up and put you on the counter, sliding between your legs. his fingers tickled the delicate skin of your bare thighs, while his gaze juggled between your lips and eyes, your hands resting on his shoulders. « if you don't kiss me right now, i swear i'll scream. » — a scoff left his lips a second before they end up touching yours. and there he kissed you exactly as you expected : in a hurried but envious and passionate way, making your whole body quiver. it was delicate but feverish, like a black coffee decorated with a hint of hot milk — it was perfect.

if you had to say something about taerae, it would probably be that he was the hottest smart nerd that you knew. studying with him was probably the most complicated thing to do, especially when his knee kept brushing your leg under the library table. it was probably no secret that you had the biggest crush on your classmate, especially since he had kissed you during a game of truth or dare — this scene remained engraved in your memory and kept on replaying in a loop. maybe you should try asking him to do it again? nervously biting the end of your pencil as his hand kept brushing yours for over an hour, you finally swiveled towards him, to see that he was already looking at you. « penny for a thought? » taking your courage in both hands, you looked him straight in the eyes, more determined than ever, « kiss me like the other night. » — a scoff left his lips, when he thought you were kidding, but when he realized that you didn't, he stuck his tongue against the corner of his mouth, before grabbing your hand, guiding you down an empty aisle of the library. your back was caught between the many books and his body, while he did not hesitate a second more to furiously press his lips against yours. as taerae kissed you divinely well, his fingers slipping innocently under the shirt of your uniform, he moved away for a few seconds to get rid of his glasses, and oh boy — you swore you had never seen anything this hot in your life, which made you feverish. it was like something unexpected but extremely attractive, that made you incredibly hot.

·˚ ༘ taglist (fill out this form to be added to the taglist) : @invuwrld @iram5shaikh_ @annoyingbitch83 @kpoprhia @ilovechanhee @wtfhyuck

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mischievouslittlecreature · 1 month ago

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Part 26: Do You Love Me

Summary: Tommy and Lucy begin to suspect Michael of a far worse betrayal than what happened on the stock market.

Word Count: 6,076

Warnings: Violence and insecurity.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 4: The Seeds You Have Sown

Lucy rubbed at her eyes with the heel of one hand as she descended the stairs sluggishly. The house was always disconcertingly quiet in the mornings. Even more so with Lizzie and Ruby gone. Normally she got up with Tommy, which helped to cloak over some of the eeriness that the huge house exuded in the early hours. Especially in her dark, isolated wing of the mansion.

But this morning she had woken up alone. Well, the second time she woke up, she was alone. The first time she had stirred at movement beside her, rolling over with an arm seeking out Tommy’s space beside her in the bed only to find it empty.

“Go back to sleep, love,” he had said, large hand passing over the top of her head. Rather than laying beside her, he was sitting on the edge of the mattress, already mostly dressed.

“Mm. Why aren’t you here?” she complained, patting the spot next to her, even as she nuzzled back down into his pillow.

“There’s something I need to go check. Won’t be long.”

“Want me to come?”

“No, sweetheart, just go back to sleep,” he kissed the top of her head.

She drifted in and out for awhile after that, but it was hard to find true sleep without him there. Finally, she’d risen out of bed with a sigh, yawning and stretching and slouching her way over to the wardrobe to pull on her clothes for the day.

Dressed and at least half awake, she was just making her way to the dining room in the hopes of finding a warm breakfast waiting for her when Charlie came exploding in through the front door. His shoes clattered loudly on the floor as he raced towards her.

“Lucy! Dad wants you,” he skidded to a halt, nearly colliding with her. “He’s outside in the garden.”

“Charlie, what–”

“Miss. Winters, there was a phone call for Mr. Shelby’s office phone that he just missed,” Frances appeared to her left. “And Mrs. Milligan is here for Charles’s violin practice.”

Who the fuck has violin practice this early in the morning?

“Alright, um, Charlie, you go with Frances to your lesson–”

“He said I’m to play extra loudly today,” Charlie giggled. “Because there might be some bangs outside. Do you know why, Lucy?”

Her blood went cold, eyes snapping to the windows. Suddenly wide awake. She looked back at Charlie, forcing what she hoped was a reassuring smile to pull at her lips. “Yes, Charlie. I think I do. You said that he’s in the garden, did you?”

Charlie nodded.

“Right,” she turned to Frances, who had gone a little pale. “Where’s the teacher?”

“In the drawing room.”

“Charlie, go with Frances to see Mrs. Milligan. Frances, keep everyone inside until we get back.”

“Yes, Miss. Winters.” Frances took Charlie by the hand, quickly leading him away. Lucy waited until they’d gone before running to the cupboard in which they kept a small artillery. She snatched up a tommy gun, some extra ammo, and raced outside.

She found Tommy seated on the grass by the barren fields, smoking and rubbing at his face with hands smeared with dirt.

“What’s happened?” she asked, hooking the strap of the submachine gun over her shoulder. Her eyes darted around wildly, searching for any signs of danger but finding none. Until her gaze landed on the middle of the field, where a scarecrow was erected on a wooden cross. Lucy stared at it, breath catching in her throat.

They didn’t have a scarecrow in the field. Not at this time of year, anyway. There was no point when there wasn’t anything planted in it anyway.

If she squinted she could make out that it was dressed in clothes eerily similar to Tommy’s daily attire: a dark coat, trousers, waistcoat, and white button down shirt, with a pocket watch dangling from its neck that glinted in the sun, and a peaky cap a top its burlap head.

Tommy looked up at her with bleary eyes, chest heaving up and down.

“There are landmines in the field.”

“What!?”

He nodded, gesturing with his cigarette towards the scarecrow mounted in the center of the barren stretch of mud. “All around the scarecrow. Fucking miracle that I didn’t step on one.”

“You went out there?”

He nodded. “There was a message pinned to it. Look down on earth and see the seeds you have sown,” he shook his head.

“Fuck,” she looked out at the field, watching whisps of white mist float across it.

“In our own fucking garden, Lucy.”

“Yeah.” Already, her mind had begun to work. Who? Who would do such a thing? They were not lacking for enemies, but she struggled to immediately think of any who would be so bold as to do something like this right under their noses.

“Charlie almost stepped on them. He came running onto the field to get me. If I hadn’t grabbed him in time…” Tommy trailed off, shoulders shuddering. Lucy’s lips parted, eyes widening. A sick feeling twisted in her stomach at the thought of what could have happened to their sweet boy. A hand went to his shoulder, clapping onto it both for stability and in an attempt to offer comfort.

Distantly, from within the mansion, she could hear the sounds of a violin starting to play. She closed her eyes against the sound. Normally, she wasn’t particularly taken with Charlie’s violin playing. Often she caught herself wishing he’d chosen a less…shrill instrument to learn. Like the piano or even the harp. But today, she relished in the shriek and squeaks of the bow against the strings.

“He’s okay,” she said, to Tommy and to herself.

“Yeah.” He heaved out a massive sign, head bowing. She rubbed back and forth across his shoulder, feeling the tension in his muscles even through the material of his coat and the shirt he had on underneath.

“What do you want to do about the mines?”

“We need to take care of them,” he heaved himself to his feet, “so no one risks getting their leg blown off if they step out there.”

“Alright,” she unhooked the strap of her gun from where it was secured on her shoulder. “Should I shoot at the ground from over here, or…?” “No. They’re only around the scarecrow. I think.”

“You think?”

“If there were ones anywhere else in the field, I’m pretty sure there would be bits of me scattered all over the garden by now.”

She cringed at the mental image, heart twisting upwards into her throat. “Don’t joke about that.”

He looked over at her, saw the expression on her face, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, kissing the top of her head. “Sorry.” He reached for the machine gun clutched her hands, but she pulled it away.

“What are you doing?”

“Well…I need…” he had enough foresight to look sheepish at what he was implying.

“I’m not letting you walk back out there alone.”

“Luces, please…”

“No! I’m not just going to stand here and watch you get blown up.”

“It’ll be fine–”

“Then you should have no problem with me coming with you.”

He closed his mouth, eyes narrowing down at her. “You’re so bloody stubborn, you know that?” But there was no bite in his words. If anything, he just sounded very, very tired. Lucy touched his chin delicately.

“Look who’s talking.”

A ghost of a smile danced on his lips for a second. “You really would rather risk getting blown up with me than just wait right here?”

“Yes,” she said, without even a moment’s hesitation. His eyes softened, and he didn’t even need to say anything for her to know that she’d won.

“Alright, then,” he sighed, looking back towards the scarecrow. “Just stick close to me, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Through the mist, Lucy could just make out the outline of another tommy gun laying on its side in the mud. He must have dropped it in his haste to get Charlie out of the field.

“Come on.”

She followed him towards the gate that led out into the rows of soft, damp earth. She was careful to stay behind him and follow the path he cut through the mud, since he knew where the landmines were. He scooped up his gun where it lay on the ground, shaking dark tendrils from his fringe that had fallen forward out of his eyes. Immediately, he started firing upon the scarecrow. He emptied an entire magazine into it before coming to a halt, releasing the magazine drum to let it go tumbling to the ground, sliding a second one into its place with a click. Lucy’s finger found the trigger of her own gun, raising it once she came to a stop at his side. Squinting at the dirt around the scarecrow, she squeezed her finger around the trigger.

The ground around the scarecrow erupted, dark soil and boiling flames exploding with a furious blaze into the sky. They were standing close enough for Lucy to feel the heat from the explosions on her face and smell the charred scent of smoke and burst metal.

The explosions came one after the other as they swept the ground with bullets, setting off landmine after landmine, each bursting in its own mini inferno.

And then all was quiet.

Black smoke roiled upwards, rolling over itself, momentarily blotting out the sun above them before being broken apart by the wind.

“You think that was all of them?” Lucy asked, lowering her weapon, glancing over to see Tommy doing the same.

“Yeah. We’ll have to dig them up later.”

“Not now?”

He shook his head. “Charlie said that there was a phone call for me.”

“Yeah. To your office phone. Do you think it has anything to do with this?”

“Maybe.”

Mist danced around their ankles while he started to lead the way back to the house. She eyed him as they walked side by side. His entire face was pinched with stress, shoulders wound ever tighter than usual.

Michael was supposed to be coming back today. She knew that Tommy had been dreading the day; the tension within him seeming to build more and more as the date grew closer.

Not that she could blame him. She felt it too; that sense of deep, approaching dread building in her stomach, hairs on the back of her arms standing on end, alarm bells blaring in her ears that danger was approaching.

Once they were inside, she took a quick detour to lock both of their guns back up in the artillery cupboard before meeting him in his office. He was already on the phone when she slipped in, cocking it slightly when she came over to stand next to him so she could hear static crackling through the receiver, and then the buzz of the line ringing.

Whoever was on the other end picked up, and for just a second, she heard Michael’s voice before it was silenced. And then an Irish lilt filtered through the receiver, the voice introducing herself Captain Swing. Lucy’s brows pinched, stomach twisting into knots as Swing explained that Michael had been caught onboard the ship he’d taken from America, in his cabin making deals with men in Belfast who wanted Tommy dead. In the background, Lucy could hear the faint sounds of Michael’s voice, screaming that Swing was lying.

Swing offered that she could have Michael killed then and there, or she could send him home for them to deal with. Tommy chose the latter.

At Swing’s revelation that Michael was discussing with their enemies how they’d divide up the racetracks after they’d blown away Tommy’s legs, Lucy froze.

That was a very specific way of wording things. And a very specific type of death.

Her eyes shifted to the windows, looking out at the misty field. Despite the mines they’d detonated around it, the scarecrow was still standing on its cross, the wind ruffling its clothes.

How did she know about the mines?

Either what Swing was saying was true, and Michael had been in on the planting of them, or Swing herself had been involved in some way.

“What the fuck,” Lucy said, soon as he’d put the phone down. Tommy looked as if he were seconds away from a stress-induced stroke, turning his back to the room to instead stare out the window while lighting a cigarette. “Do you really think…?” “I don’t know,” he shook his head, voice dropping to a whisper. “I don’t fucking know.”

It wouldn’t be entirely out of the realm of possibility for Michael to betray them. He’d done it before, during the vendetta. But at least then he’d had the excuse of choosing loyalty towards Polly over Tommy.

“Fucking kid…” the shock was beginning to give way to rage. “We should never have taken him back in.” If it weren’t for them, he’d be some boring accountant, probably for a firm in London somewhere. Or maybe still trapped in that little village that he hated so much. How fucking dare he try to move against them? “He’ll be in Liverpool soon. Assuming that Swing actually lets him go and he doesn’t try to run. I could go to the station and assess him. Find out if anything that Swing said was true.”

“No.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but Tommy put a gentle hand on her arm, drawing her in closer to his side.

“I think that if either of us were to see him right now, we might kill him on the spot. I’ll send Polly and Arthur to pick him up.”

“He might not even show.”

“Then we’ll have our answer.” He lifted his cigarette to his lips, movements slow.

“Even if Polly and Arthur clear him, I think we should quarantine him for a while. Just to be safe.”

Tommy nodded. “I’ll have him and the American girl he’s bringing with him put up at the Midland.”

“Good idea.” The Midland belonged to them. All eyes and ears employed within its walls were theirs. Every phone call, every activity, even every fucking thing that Michael ate would be reported to them.

“And have some of our boys see what they can find on this Captain Swing and her people.”

“Will do.”

There was the click of heels against the floor outside, and then a few rapid knocks on the door. Tommy’s chest heaved with his sigh, lifting a hand to scratch at his brow.

“Come,” he called, voice gruff, not turning from where he was still staring out the windows. His voice sounded very far away, and Lucy knew that he was currently locked within his own head, turning each and every possibility over and over in his mind. She inched a little closer to him, and when his arm draped around her shoulders, she looped her own around his waist, hoping that the warm press of her body against his side would help to soothe him.

Frances came in, bringing with her inquiries from the violin teacher about the bangs she’d heard. Tommy waved away her concerns with an explanation of testing fireworks. One glance at the housekeeper’s face, and Lucy could tell that she didn’t believe him for even a second, but knew better than to pry.

“Also, will Mrs. Shelby and Ruby be home for dinner tonight?” she asked instead.

“I don’t know.”

Lucy looked down, feeling the all too familiar pang of guilt wash through her. They’d had next to no contact with Lizzie since she’d left. Both of them too afraid of making things worse if they did not allow Lizzie her space.

But God, it was eating her up not being able to see Ruby. The little girl was like a bright beam of sunlight in the otherwise dreary, melancholic house. The whole place seemed a shade darker in her absence.

Surely Lizzie couldn’t keep her from Tommy forever. Despite everything, she was still his daughter. She would have to let him see her sometime.

Him, maybe. But not you. You have no claim to her. No matter how much you love her.

She squeezed her eyes shut. The idea of never seeing Ruby again made her want to curl in on herself and weep.

Approaching footsteps had the three of them starting and turning to see Charlie standing in the doorway, violin clutched in his hands. Excited to show Tommy the new tune he’d learned that morning.

“And what have you learned, my boy?” Tommy asked, and Lucy detected that he was making great effort to lighten his tone so Charlie would not notice the deep tension practically radiating from him. He slipped down into the chair behind his desk, a hand on Lucy’s waist urging her into his lap. She settled there, arm around his shoulders and head leaning against his.

Together, they sat, listening to the shrill squeaks and squeals of Charlie’s violin. All the while trepidation sank deeper and deeper into their bones. Regarding Michael. Regarding whoever had planted those land mines in their garden, like deadly flowers waiting to bloom in a fiery inferno. And regarding the danger that seemed to be coming at them from each and every direction.

∗ ∗ ∗

They stepped into the Garrison to find it utterly trashed. Broken glass crunched under their shoes, half filled and empty glasses littered the tables, and spilled booze seeped into the floorboards. There were only two people occupying the pub: a girl, who roused at Tommy scrapping a barstool against the floor to perch on, and Finn, who remained fast asleep spread out in a booth despite their less than silent entrance. The girl rushed to gather up her clothes and hurry out the door at Tommy’s command.

While he and Arthur set to work dealing with Finn, Lucy grabbed up a broom from the supply closet and started sweeping up some of the broken glass littered all over the place. They seemed to get through to him alright, though Lucy couldn’t entirely shake the wariness that had settled within her when it came to Finn. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it was something not unlike how she always felt around Polly. That instinctual knowledge that, no matter what she did or how many times she proved her loyalty, Finn would never truly accept her as a part of the family.

At his mention to Tommy that he’d found a girl he wanted to marry, she started. Jesus, she kept forgetting that Finn wasn’t a kid anymore. In her mind, he was still that little boy running throughout the streets of Small Heath with dirt smeared across his face, grinning as he weaved between the adults’ legs at the betting shop.

That might explain some of his recent behavior, however, what with the running head-on into danger half-cocked. Whoever this girl was, he was trying to impress her.

“Tell me about her,” Tommy requested.

“She likes the life.”

“She likes the life, ey? Well, find one that hates it. Look at him,” Tommy gestured to Arthur. “That’s what he did, and now he’s chairman of the board.”

She frowned, grip tightening on the broom that she was holding, catching her lip between her teeth to worry at it while she shifted uncomfortably. Finn was dismissed, though Lucy barely noticed.

Was that what he really thought? That all of them were better off with women who hated the lives that they’d chosen to live?

She did not fit into that category. But Lizzie did.

Of course he missed his daughter and wanted her to come home. Lucy missed her too. But it had not even really occurred to her that he may be missing Lizzie as well.

Her fear that Lizzie would someday replace her was a constant, forever presence in the back of her mind. Sometimes it was quiet, hardly even a whisper to be heard. Other times it was a scream, a blaring siren warning her to brace herself for heartbreak that surely would be coming at any moment. The volume of it ebbed and flowed like the tide.

His words ran on a loop in her head, doubts growing. Maybe the type of person that she was no longer appealed to him. Maybe Lizzie was what he really wanted. A nice, normal woman. Not some basket case who woke up most nights screaming from nightmares, or who flinched at unfamiliar touches or loud noises. Who didn’t find even the smallest enjoyment out of the sport or kind of work that they did. Who rode a horse sidesaddle rather than with a leg on either side.

Did she like the life anymore? She honestly couldn’t say. The life had caused her an awful lot of pain, as the aches in her shoulders or the twinges in her heart so often liked to remind her. But it had given her Tommy. And if the life of a gangster was what she had to lead to be with him, she’d do it all again in a heartbeat. Without even the smallest hesitation.

She swallowed hard, shifting uncomfortably. A combination of excitement and dread opened up inside her at Arthur’s report that Lizzie and Ruby would be home later that day. She couldn’t wait to see Ruby. But the idea of having to face Lizzie, especially after the fight they’d had and Tommy’s latest comments, left her feeling nothing but anxiousness.

Tommy started to give Arthur orders for how to handle Michael once he arrived from Liverpool, but she barely heard him.

She knew that Tommy cared for Lizzie. That had never bothered her. She cared for her too. But the idea that he might someday fall in love with her terrified her. Because if he loved her the way that Lizzie so desperately wanted him to, there would be no room for Lucy in his life anymore. No love left for her.

A part of her had always figured it was an inevitability. How could he not fall in love with Lizzie? She was sweet, beautiful, the mother of his child, and he had known her for years. Even longer than he’d known Lucy. It was impossible that he could spend so much time in such close proximity to her–both emotionally and physically–without certain feelings beginning to bloom.

Once that happened, she would be done for. Because when Tommy loved someone, really loved them, like he did her and Grace, he would do anything for them. And the first thing that Lizzie would ask of him would be to toss Lucy out onto the street like an unwanted dog.

Everything she had, she had because of Tommy. She was not naive enough to think otherwise. Without him, she would lose everything. Hell, he was everything to her. Some days, she doubted she would even be alive if it weren’t for him. What would she even have to live for? Without Tommy she was completely and utterly alone.

“Lucy?” Tommy called, and she started, realizing that he had stood and gone to the Garrison’s doors, waiting for her to follow him.

“Sorry.” Setting aside the broom she was holding, she wiped her hands down on her overcoat and moved to trail him outside, giving a sharp shake of her head to try to dislodge the thoughts banging around uncomfortably inside her mind.

“You alright?” he asked, once they had made their way to the station and seated themselves in a compartment on the next train headed for London. The floor vibrated under her shiny black boots as they started to pull out of the station, beginning the journey south. She looked away from where she was gazing out the window with her knuckles resting against her lips to find Tommy eyeing her, mild concern shining in his eyes.

She thought about asking him what he meant by what he’d said in the Garrison. But she didn’t have the courage to open her mouth and let the words come out. Too scared by what his answer might be.

“Yeah,” she said, instead, shifting so that her temple leaned against the cool glass of the window. “I’m fine.”

∗ ∗ ∗

“Excuse me?”

Lucy looked up from her desk into the face of a bald man with a pointed nose and a dark mustache. He had his hat clutched in his hands, running his fingers along the fine material.

“Yes?”

“This is the office of Thomas Shelby, correct?”

“It is.” She put down her pen. From his desk across from hers, Adam shot her a nervous look. “How can I help you?”

“My name is Stacker. I need to ask Mr. Shelby some questions. Is he in?”

“What sort of questions?”

The man shifted from foot to foot. “There was a shooting two days ago of a journalist who was in here to meet with Mr. Shelby the night before his death. I’d like to speak with him about it.”

“You’re police?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Police aren’t allowed in here.”

“I’m here in a very…unofficial context.”

“Mm,” she cocked her head, both of them aware that wasn’t truly the case. But flat out sending him away might do more harm than good. “Adam, go find Mr. Shelby and tell him that there’s a policeman here to see him.”

Adam nodded, standing and slipping past Stacker to rush out the door.

“You can wait in his office,” Lucy said, standing and walking around Stacker to open the double doors, leading him inside. “Who’s your Chief Constable, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Chief Constable Wyatt, Miss.”

She nodded. Good. They knew Wyatt. “Mr. Shelby will be here in a moment. Can I get you something to drink, while you wait?”

“No thank you. I’m alright.”

She went out into the front office, plucking up a folder from her desk and flipping through it to appear busy while waiting for Tommy and keeping one eye on Stacker. The policeman prowled around the office, examining the papers and trinkets spread out on the big desk, then moving to inspect a painting of a white horse surrounded by a golden frame and hung on the wall behind Tommy’s chair. He didn’t touch anything, though Lucy was sure he was making mental notes about all that he was seeing.

Heavy footfalls announced Tommy’s presence, entering the office with his briefcase in hand and Adam trailing in behind him.

“His Chief Constable is Wyatt,” she murmured into his ear. He nodded.

“Five minutes, then come tell me I’ve got an appointment or something that I need to get ready for so he’ll leave.”

She nodded, going to lounge behind her desk while he went in to deal with the officer.

Just another day in Parliament, she thought to herself as she lit a cigarette, puffing smoke up towards the ceiling, keeping an eye on the clock for when she would need to rise and rescue Tommy from the clutches of the lawman.

The police investigating Levitt’s death wasn’t a particularly unexpected occurrence. Nor was them coming here to talk to Tommy about it, considering that Levitt had died not long after seeing him. Their boys had done good work on the hit, giving it enough flourish to send a message to any other journalists looking to try something, all while ensuring that the police wouldn’t be able to link it to them easily. If at all.

Didn’t mean that their poking and prodding around wasn’t annoying, though. She had hoped that the police would simply assume that Levitt’s death was a result of conflict caused in his personal life, and they could avoid being pulled into the investigation all together. But apparently not.

The clock chimed, and she rose from her seat, grabbing up some documents that she needed Tommy to look over anyway, going back into his office just as the last chime sounded.

“Mr. Shelby, you have a meeting with an MP from Essex in a few minutes.” She reported, placing the documents she’d brought in on his desk. Tommy turned his gaze onto the policeman.

“Your time’s up, Mr. Stacker.”

Stacker said nothing, throat working. Whatever Tommy had said to him before she came in, it had either given him pause, or made him very angry. Perhaps a bit of both. His eyes flickered between them, and then he rose from his seat.

“Thank you,” Tommy called to his back as he retreated from the room.

“Did it not go well?” Lucy asked, once she heard the door close shut behind Stacker, watching Tommy’s face while he moved around his desk to his chair.

“He’s suspicious. But I don’t think it’ll stick. If it does, I’ll have a word with Wyatt about him.”

“Alright.”

Tommy’s eyes shifted to the clock. She glanced over her shoulder at it.

“Arthur was supposed to call me at three,” he huffed, as they watched the minute hand tick over to the right.

“It’s only two minutes past, love.” She moved around to his side of the desk, touching his shoulder. “Arthur isn’t always the most punctual.”

He just grunted, and she smiled fondly at his grumpiness, rubbing his shoulder a few times to try to massage away some of the tension she felt in his muscles. When she moved to retract her hand, he caught it in his, dipping his face to peck a kiss to the back of it. His eyes squinted at her, assessing.

“Something’s bothering you.”

She looked down and away. His thumb rubbed back and forth across her hand where it was still clasping it. She glanced anxiously towards the door.

“There’s no one who might see us except for Adam. And he already knows about us,” Tommy said, reading her mind. “Talk to me. You’ve been quiet since we left the Garrison this morning.”

“It’s…it’s nothing, really.”

“Then why don’t you want to tell me?”

She finally looked up at him. The hard wood of his desk was digging into her back where she was leaning against it. She opened her mouth to tell him, then closed it again. It all felt a little ridiculous when she actually tried to put it into words. “Because I’m just being stupid.”

His brows pinched, fingers squeezing a little against hers. “Well, now you have to tell me.”

Her lips pricked upwards. His hand smoothed up her arm, nearly to her shoulder, rubbing a few times before finding its way back to her hand, raising it back to his lips. “Hm?” His head cocked, tempting. “Come on, now, talk to me,” he said, in a voice like a honey. Lucy huffed, trying to stifle a shiver at the warm rumble of his words, struggling to gather her thoughts into coherent sentences.

“I’m happy that Ruby and Lizzie are coming home. Really. I just…” she sighed, glancing away again. Tommy’s thumb massaged across her knuckles encouragingly, his piercing gaze fixed on her patiently while he waited for her to finish her thought. But she found that she couldn’t. She wasn’t strong enough to actually speak the words that rested on the tip of her tongue.

Am I not what you want anymore?

Are you falling in love with her?

Do you still love me?

And yet she didn’t need to. Both of Tommy’s hands landed on her hips. “Come here,” he drew her in closer, head tipping back to peer up at her through his dark fringe, gaze so softened with affection that it nearly stole the breath from her lungs. And she was left suddenly feeling very foolish that she could ever possibly have doubted his feelings for her.

“I love you.” He laid a quick kiss on her lips. “I love you, not her. That’s never going to change.”

Her hands came to rest on the nape of his neck, skin warm under her fingers. Relief, that he understood what she was trying to say without her actually having to utter it, had tension that she hadn’t even realized had built up in her muscles melting away. A relieved breath released from her lungs.

She lowered her head to press her lips to his hair, closing her eyes, voice dropping to nearly a whisper. “I know.” And she did. Deep down, she always did. It was just that sometimes the voices in her head screamed so loud that they drowned out everything else. “Sorry. Sometimes…sometimes I just get scared.”

His eyes grew sad. “Don’t be sorry,” his thumb circled against her hip. “Brains can be stupid, ey?”

A quiet laugh left her. “Yeah. They can, can’t they?”

“Mm,” humming in agreement, he dropped his head to kiss her shoulder.

The phone on his desk started ringing, popping the little bubble of contentment that had formed around them. Tommy let out a soft groan, lifting his head and reaching around her to grab at the receiver. He tilted it just so against his ear so that she could lean in and hear what was being said on the other end.

“Arthur?”

“Yeah,” the older Shelby’s gravely voice rumbled through the receiver. “Polly says Michael’s telling the truth.”

“Did you see him?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“He was angry with us.”

Lucy snorted. As if Michael had any reason to be mad after he’d just lost all their fucking money.

“Got some American girl with him, too,” Arthur continued. “They got married on the ship on the way here. Name’s Gina Gray. Formally Nelson.”

“What’s she like?”

There was a snort. “She’s got an attitude on her, that’s for bloody sure. Got rooms for them at the Midland. Michael’s mad as a swarm of hornets about it, but he agreed to stay there.”

“Good. What did you think of Michael?”

There was a long pause. “Honestly, Tom…I thought he was awfully fucking defensive for someone who supposedly doesn’t have anything to fucking hide.”

Tommy nodded, looking out the window, lips pursing together.

“I have my revolver with me,” Arthur said, after a moment. “I could probably catch up to them before they even get to the hotel…”

“No. I want to speak with him first. Before we make any permanent decisions. Just have our people at the Midland watch him, for now.”

“All right.”

Tommy hung up the phone, and then let out a groan, face falling forward to rest on her chest, arms looping loosely around her waist. Lucy laid her palms on the back of his head, hugging it to her while her chin rested on his soft dark hair.

“Well, at least we can keep an eye on him here,” she murmured. With a sigh, Tommy raised his head.

“Yeah.”

“If you change your mind and want him taken care of, just say the word.”

“We have to be absolutely sure.”

She examined his face, understanding. It wasn’t about Michael. Not really. Not anymore. Maybe at some point it would have been, but most of the good will that Tommy had towards his cousin had dried up long ago.

This was about Polly.

If he ordered Michael’s death without provable provocation, he would lose Polly forever. Hell, even if they were able to prove that Michael was trying to have Tommy killed, that may not be enough to sway Polly to their side. At the end of the day, Lucy believed that she always would side with him. Even over the other Shelbys, if she had to. And understandably so. Michael was her son.

But Tommy loved Polly enough that he would not have Michael killed. Not until he either had no other choice, or he was confident that Polly would support him on it.

Delicately, she brushed a few tendrils of hair out of his face. “It’ll be okay.”

He looked up at her with eyes worn ragged, stress pinching at the edges of his mouth and in his brow. She stroked his face, smoothing away the lines, drawing his head in close to rest on her chest again. He nuzzled into her with a sigh, eyes sliding closed and cheek resting comfortably atop her breasts.

She wished terribly that there was more that she could do for him. All she wanted was to be able to help him. To help lessen the burdens that he carried. But there wasn’t much more that she could do. Not now, at least.

So instead, she just held him.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

#tommy shelby #peaky blinders #lucy winters #lucy winters x tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #my ocs #my fanfiction #lily writes #love me where i'm most ruined #tommy shelby fanfic #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders oc

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erik-carriere · 3 months ago

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POTO Halloween 2024

I hope y’all enjoy this short story based on A Flock Of Seagulls’ song Nightmares.

I need to write more things exploring Erik’s relationship with his mother.

Happy Halloween!

Erik awoke with a gasp, his throat already raw from screaming. The quiet bedroom was exactly as he’d left it, with the candles still burning high and bright, but the way he felt he couldn’t tell if he’d been asleep for ten minutes or ten years. He closed his eyes; everything around was painted abstract by the flickering shadows and it left an aching in his head.

As if on cue, slender, cool fingers combed through his hair. Never deeply or tenderly, but present all the same. He exhaled.

“Mama, I had another nightmare.”

He got no reply, and had not expected one. She had heard enough of his screams to know what had happened. Comfort from his mother was a rare thing. Touch itself was rarer, and he would not chance losing it.

As the hand faintly stroked, he grounded himself in memory, trying to remember how ordinary his day had been. He’d played Corelli, Rachmaninov, Mozart. He’d sketched for a while. And as he thought, he felt for the fabric of her dress, and curled his fingers around soft, smooth material.

He’d had a good day, he surmised in fact; nothing at all had happened to trigger the bad dreams that haunted him. His music had been pleasant; first piano, before migrating to the violin then back again. And the drawings had been a little amusing. Sketches made to pass the time, waiting in Box Five��

His eyes shot open again, and he sat up straight, gripping the thin bedsheet bunched at the side of his coffin. His neck hurt with how rapidly he’d looked behind him. No one was there, and atop his head he felt those delicate fingers slowly slide away.

#phantom of the opera #erik #poto #poto fandom #phantom #erik the phantom #the phantom of the opera #susan kay phantom

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alukaforyou · 13 days ago

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god i wish that were me,, full pic under da cut lol

아 ㅈㄴ 부끄러워 오빠 얼굴 치워>_<;; 끙-,,

i was listening to arari by lucia its my faveee song by her, her whole niche is period drama ost-sounding music which is right up my alley, i have a whole sageuk vibe playlist for when im drawing madara & sukuna u kno i need to get in THAT ZONE more on that next time maybe ANYWAYS

this vid popped up in the recommendations and it caught my eye cuz 1. i love da moon, obsessed with 🌙 2. what is that thumbnail haa, i clicked on it and well i kno this song!! its part of the chuno ost oooh this drama is sooooo good, not much pretty ~aesthetic~ here cuz its not palace stuff but man this is a classic

but ooh lucia's cover of it is sooo good i love the traditional instruments in the bg, i think the original song was with piano and violin? BUT THE THUMBNAIL LOOOOLL its a webtoon called 'moonrise during the day'

i should try reading webtoons / manhwa some of these kr artists r putting out rly beautiful art idec about the plot tbh im gonna look based on the artstyle only LOL for research & study purposes akjdfnskdfhuvrgf

this looks rly cute tho i love how its drawn stylistically, i could NOT bring myself to do the pointy upturned nose tho, and the big eyes like i rly dont know how to draw big anime eyes anymore💀

i feel like he would have a little bump right at the top of the nosebridge idk it just feels right to me 🤷🏻‍♀️ i love nose bumps so thats how im gonna draw him lol also im physically pounding dirt with my bare hands rn cuz i want to be in that girls place soooo bad fawkkkkk tbh i wouldnt even mind swapping places w sukuna lmfao i want a pretty pink haired gf///////// so to summarize. 아이고 머리아프군.

#i wonder what hes saying~ maybe.. some shit like. 'pee is stored in the balls' JSSJJJSJSSJAKKQSJJS 🤣#also hes a monolid king...#nose bump sukuna i love u #PPL WHO DONT DRAW MAJIMAS NOSE BUMP IN ARE GOING TO HELL SORRY #anyways the song.... the moon has passed.... so fucking good. sooo good.#i always ramble under my drawings lately lol #my sageuk playlist is so. 💖#alulu art #이 지랄같은 인생 #man i missed drawing hanbok ☹️#theres sm artifacts in the bg cuz i played with brillance LOL idc tho

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kindred-spirit-93 · 1 month ago

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ulysses dies at dawn

good god this was quite the ride. thoughts!!

i walked in knowing nothing except its cyberpunk setting and gfdsdfgfdasdfsdf mind successfully blown

i love the narration so much. idk its refreshing to me at least in music. very creative and effective way to present info. big fan :D

i am very musically illiterate lol so apologies in advance, but the genre at first listen to me instantly made me think of bluegrass.

listen theres a violin and a banjo esque intrument (sounds like a shamisen to me lol) its close enough

anyway absolutely brilliant music, i like the juxtaposition of a futuristic premise & a somewhat older more grounded music style (i want to say country but i also dont want to be hunted down lol)

favourite songs are broken hahse horse and sunrise lol

my jaw dropped when the horse was scanned for everyhting including hidden soldiers (i wont spoil too much pls go listen) but there was a thing and it made everyone do things and *combusts*

interesting choice of characters! heracles orpheus ariadne and oedipus. i need art of them in 3 piece pinstripe suits nowwwww

took me a minute to get the mf joke lmao. nearly choked

orpheus my poor boi omg all he wants is his girl back :')

fuck u theseus. i feel bad for ariadne honestly. i wonder if in another reality she and dio also had something?

hades! being the villain isnt my favourite thing bc im biased as hell, but i do love the idea of him orchestrating shit for his amusement

the worldbuilding itself is amazing btw, the concept of acheron is quite fascinating and very sinister.

zeus is the worst omg eugh. the olympians are a mafia family lol

i love calypso having a bar idk why its such a funny concept to me. in my mind she and antinous own the place lol (epic crackship crossover no one can stop meeeee)

penelope my beloved. the end hit me like a truck. it was pretty fast like i barely had time to register the events as the story progressed (also i was studying so half my brain was elsewhere lol)

sunrise is the best song ever my ears have been blessed. the melody is ethereal i can literally hear the leaves rustling and feel the faint sunlight

according to the wiki the tree is an oak and ngl idve preferred olive but ig u cant have everything in life lol

the imagery is on another level. i never wished i could draw & animate so much in my life. i want to draw ulysses' last moments, crawling to the roots of the tree under which her remains rest

united once more in death as they were in life :')))))))

trying really hard to stay sane u guys and its getting harder augh

#ulysses dies at dawn #greek mythology #ulysses #greek mythology based musicals are going to be the end of me #goodnight!#not proofread btw dont look too close #reblogging with an art the post got too long lol #---------------------------------------------------#edit: also is it me having a galaxy brain moment or were the sirens a metaphor for drugs and was it intended in any way?#i cant get it out of my head that they sound the way what i imagine a hallucinogenic agent to look like #yk the swirls and bright colours? thats kinda what the song looked liketo me lol.#also it makes some sense hed dampen the pain with alcohol and some drug. just a thought tho

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fiuworks · 4 months ago

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OF ARCHIVES PAST

so to summarise me and my good insane fellow @ceaselesswatchersspecialboy posed the question ‘what was going on with every archivist before Gertrude’ and thus Of Archives Past spawned.. and everything…IM CRAZY ABT THIS I need to draw it more .

1. Thomas Millbrook, the second Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute. He started out as a budding avatar of the Eye before being corrupted by the Slaughter.

2. Thomas and Harold Wells, an archival assistant (who may or may not have some vague romantic tension with Thomas…)

3. George Gilman, archival assistant, and Angus Stacey- the man hired in his place after George’s mysterious murder.

4. Thomas being Thomas…

5. Angus ❤️ he is my oobie goobie and he deserved nothing of what came from him (I made those things happen in the first place)

6. Angus really looks up to Thomas and Thomas taught him everything he knows and created a lot of the sorting systems for the archives standing the test of time even to present day, but Thomas is lowkey tweaking out slaughter style ❤️

7. George ❤️ not here for a long time or a good time I fear

8. I have this vague concept of a hunt avatar that can mimic a person that targets Thomas in his early days as Archivist

9. Fiona!!! Her and Angus were very close and she was his second assistant (the first being Harold, inherited from Thomas’s tenure)

10. fresh hire Gertrude…

11-12. The Head of the Institute (and Magnus’s host) for the time Thomas was in power is a man called Augustus Milton, and Augustus really comes onto Thomas and they are romantically involved behind closed doors despite Thomas’s reservations about being in love with a man. Augustus does nothing as Thomas spirals into madness, but was very fond of him and his wit and found him sweet and attractive.

13. Augustus, after Thomas’s murder, takes his statement posthumously, steals his violin playing fingers and then has one final dance with his body before leaving.

14-15. Angus is the one to murder Thomas after following him and seeing him repeatedly luring innocents to their brutal death with the sweet, violent music of a violin.

16. no time for dat Thomas Millbrook

soooo erm ya....a peek into our sick and twisted emo minds......if u want to know more im gonna make a tag for it and then like . my inbox and ody's inbox (i think) are open if u want more of our stupid chungus thoughts on this........god knows we have more in the mental bank

#of archives past au #tma au #the magnus archives #tma #magpod #tma podcast #gertrude robinson #angus stacey

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cierraonline · 3 months ago

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That’s So Beautiful

chapter three: that’s so beautiful

Masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA

THE O’CONNELL HOUSEHOLD

"Said out loud," Billie sings, rehearsing the line. Over the past three years, so much has changed for the trio. They went from being ordinary, talented people with individual goals to a signed group under Darkroom Records, unified by a shared mission: to complete their debut album. For Storm, it's even more ambitious, as the label head wants her to create an orchestral version of the album as a standalone project. On top of it all, they're filming a documentary for Apple TV.

"Nice," Finneas compliments, working on digitalizing the orchestral demo Storm created to align it with the pop culture standards of a regular album.

"Said out loud."

"That sounds good."

"Come here," her friend's voice drifts in, almost like a distant echo.

It might be something that shouldn't be...

Said out loud.

"Honestly, I thought that I would be dead by now," Billie sings, as Finneas makes technical sound adjustments. Storm watches closely, trying to absorb his production techniques, unfamiliar yet intrigued. The violins duel with pounding drums, taunting like fighters, until the music transforms into a pulsing bass beat.

"That's dope," Billie nods in approval, clearly pleased with the evolving sound.

What do you want from me?

Why don't you run from me?

What are you wondering?

What do you know?

"Ouuu!"

Why aren't you scared of me?

"I'm so proud of that one," Billie grins, pulling Storm close as they dance, sitting together on the bed.

Why do you care for me?

When we all fall asleep,

Where do we go?

"That's cool, right?" Finneas turns his spinning chair to gauge his bandmates’ reactions.

"I'm a genius!" Storm does a little hop, still in Billie’s hold.

"Yes, you are, kitten," Finneas smiles, nodding approvingly.

"This is what I want the album to be called." Billie opens her journal, revealing her title: "When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go?" She shows the camera. "I actually drew this song and had Storm turn it into actual words."

"So far, the process for this album is Billie visualizes the concept, I translate her drawings and emotional descriptions into lyrics," Storm explains, pulling out her own journal, filled with polaroids of Billie’s drawings and next to them are her handwritten lyrics. "Then, during composition, Billie and I choose instruments based on the mood. For ‘Bury a Friend’, we wanted it dark and tense, so we leaned heavily on strings to make it feel like an ancient Roman, dark duel." She reveals her iPad, where she’s recorded each instrumental layer on BandLab. "Once the orchestral part and my layered vocals are done, I hand it off to Finneas to digitalize, replicating it with his setup. Finally, Billie adds her vocals, and we adjust as needed."

"This is the drawing of this song—it's all about monsters under the bed. I want to incorporate wings and do a scene where I drink black liquid, my eyes turn black, and then I bleed black tears."

"That's quite morbid, don't you think?" Storm raises an eyebrow at her friend. "I'm only fourteen. What kind of song do you think I can create that matches that?"

"If I have to, I’ll tape you to the couch and make you watch ‘Nightmare on Elm Street’," Billie smirks.

"That's evil," Storm pouts.

"Anyway," Billie flips the page, smiling as she shares her journal. "Here’s a self-portrait. This is some weird doll, some random guy, a foot. There are drips, and you can decide what they are. There's some bitch. There's a hairy vagina. There, a-- a dick.," she says, giving the camera a tour of her eclectic drawings.

"That's cool."

I can't say no

Boom, step on the glass,

Staple your tongue.

"Can we bring it back to the bad dream theme?" Finneas asks, looking for direction.

"The concept is realizing that what you’re experiencing isn’t just a nightmare; it’s actually sleep paralysis," Storm explains. "In songwriting, there’s a rule to hint at the truth without naming it outright. Based on YouTube videos, people with sleep paralysis feel like their eyes are glued open, trapped, only able to see a figure lurking in the corner."

Then my limbs all froze,

And my eyes won't close.

And I can't say no, I can't say no.

"Step on the glass, staple your tongue," Billie jumps up, thrilled as she belts out her favorite line.

XXX

“So, this isn’t the first shot,” Billie says to the camera as she films her mother, Maggie Baird, who’s sitting in a chair with Storm sitting on the table positioned in front of her mom. “But this is the angle I want once it zooms out—not fully to the side.”

“What are you doing right now?” Patrick O’Connell questions his daughter as he watches the scene from a distance.

“Shut up!” she quickly remarks, turning her attention back to directing. “And not to the front, just, like… so that…”

“Pepper, uh-uh,” Maggie scolds Pepper, the family dog, as the dog goes to chase after something that catches her eye.

“The chair leg, that’s, like, in the middle. So I want it to start…” Billie tunes out the background noise and continues directing for her upcoming music video.

“Where’s that cat?”

“…with nothing in the background—”

“Give her a gold star.”

“With nothing in the background except… except the white cyc and the white table.”

“Can I ask a question?” Storm raises her hand.

“What?” Billie looks up from the camera view.

“Why am I sitting criss-cross on a table in front of your mom, Mags?”

“Because that’s what you’re going to be doing in the video.”

“Who said I want to be in the video?” The white-haired girl raises her left eyebrow in confusion.

“I did. Now shut up, look possessed, and pass the cup over to my mom,” Billie curtly demands.

“Yes, Mommy,” Storm’s eyes widen in mock shock as she follows the demand.

“Once it gets to this point, I’ll take a drink. Start drinking it. I’m not sure if I want it to stay here while I drink, or if it should come up to me while I’m drinking it—” Maggie sets down the cup, thinking the action was finished, causing Billie to pause mid-thought and redirect her. “Wait, keep drinking. I’m still deciding if I want it. 'Cause I don’t know if I… or—want it to stay diagonal. 'Cause I’m not sure if I want it to…” She stops abruptly, realizing she’s rambling. “What am I even saying?” she exclaims, frustrated.

“That’s what we’re all trying to figure out,” Storm comments, struggling to follow Billie’s verbal brain dump.

“Did I tell you to talk?” Billie turns her head toward her best friend.

“No.” Storm drops her head. “I’m sorry, Mommy Billie.”

“Stop calling me that!” Billie exclaims, a laugh escaping after. “I don’t know if I want to see… Okay, wait. I’ve decided. It’s gonna be here. Once I start drinking, and I’ve been drinking for a second, it’ll come and stay even with this leg in the middle, and exactly parallel to the other leg.” She steps closer to her mother and zooms in on the camera. “Come in so that my face is centered. I think I’ll grab the glass with my left hand so that the shot makes more sense.” Maggie follows her daughter’s vision and adjusts her hand. “Thanks, Mom,” Billie chuckles. “Then you’ll see the black goo disappear as I drink it all. And then Storm will reach over and slowly take the cup away.” Storm, obediently following directions, places the cup back in the center of the table and pauses as a thought strikes her.

“Wait, am I the demon in this video?” She turns to Billie, who’s still recording.

“And then I’ll just look into the camera,” Billie decides to ignore the question and continues with her director’s notes.

“Am I?” Storm repeats.

“And then it’ll stay right there. Don’t zoom! Don’t do any of those flashy moves these bozo filmmakers try to add just to keep things interesting.” Billie’s tone grows stern as she emphasizes her creative control.

“You’re working with a great director,” Maggie interrupts her daughter, not wanting her to get too worked up or overly demanding about the video’s details.

“Shut up!”

“He’s a genius.”

“Yeah, sure, but I’m telling you, don’t be an idiot. Don’t move the camera, and as I look into it, the black will drip from my eyes.”

“I just want to know whether or not I’m the demon in this video?” The camera shifts back to Storm.

“Yes, you are. Happy?” Billie finally answers.

“Why a demon? Can’t I be something friendlier?” Storm gives her best puppy-dog eyes, hoping it’ll sway Billie.

“No.”

“Okay,” Storm sighs.

“Billie, be nice to Stormy,” Maggie chides her daughter, giving Storm, who’s like a second daughter to her, a gentle pat.

“I’m always nice to her. Right, Peaches?”

“N-”

“I’ve got a mini-verse ball with your name on it,” Billie offers a playful bribe, knowing it’ll work.

“Billie treats me so well,” Storm offers a big smile. “She treats me so well I wouldn’t know what to do without her.”

“See?” Billie turns to her mother with a triumphant look.

“That was just sad, Stormy,” Maggie playfully shakes her head.

XXX

In a scene that felt like a manifestation of their dreams, the girls found themselves on set for ‘When the Party’s Over’. After an hour in makeup applying prosthetics for the black tears Billie envisioned in her video, they were ready to film. On a wide, white podium, Storm sat perched with her mouth agape and head tilted, mimicking possession. Billie, seated in front of her, held a cup of black ink, a crucial prop. Slowly, Storm extended her hand, taking the cup from Billie in a deliberate, practiced motion.

“Put it down. Slowly.” The cup touched the table with a soft clink. “Reset it. We’ll try it again.” After another cut, they repeated the scene because Billie wasn’t sure what expression she wanted for the next shot.

“Cut. Cut, cut, cut, cut.”

“I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do,” Billie voiced her frustration as they reviewed the playback.

“Keep an eye on the shot when Storm takes the glass, and it’s still in the air before she sets it down. I think you break character when you feel like the camera isn’t on you anymore,” the director began before Billie interjected.

“It’s still capturing me?”

“Yeah, so the idea is for you to stay in character until the camera is solely back on you for your ending expression,” the director explained.

“Got it. But I can’t tell when it’s fully back on me, so if you could call it out, that’d be great.”

“You want me to say, like, ‘Billie camera’?”

“Yeah,” Billie agreed, adding specifics, “or just, ‘Camera’s coming back to you.’ Then I’ll know to get my face ready.”

“Okay. Cool.”

Once again, they went over the scene, and this time they completed it without issues.

“Cut. Yeah.” The crew applauded as the shot concluded, Billie’s face smeared with black ink while Storm remained fixed, staring at her.

“For the next videos, I’m directing them all myself,” Billie declared, walking off set hand-in-hand with Storm as they headed toward her mother.

“What?” Maggie looked at the girls in confusion. “What happened?”

“He just wasn’t it. The video wasn’t it, but I don’t want to make everyone redo everything,” Billie shook her head, running a hand through her hair. “He only took some of the notes I gave him; the rest was his own ‘creative vision’ or whatever.”

“It’s okay, honey,” Storm tried to comfort her friend, hopeful that this was just a minor issue that would fade once the project was finished.

“No, it’s not,” Billie sighed, looking to her mother. “The whole point was for Peaches and me to end forehead-to-forehead, white eyes meeting black eyes. Not with us at a distance, black eyes meeting black eyes. Peaches’ signature look is white eyes—when has anyone ever seen her with black eyes?”

“Did you tell the director you wanted Stormy with white eyes?” Maggie attempted to stay neutral, hoping to salvage the experience.

“Yes!” Billie exclaimed. “He said her white eyes wouldn’t make sense with the black goo. But Storm having black eyes makes even less sense! She looks weird with black eyes—everything about her is practically white except for her skin tone. But no white eyes, yet they’re okay with a red lip?”

“I looked weird?” Storm asked, looking up at Billie.

“No,” Billie sighed, pulling her friend into a hug, resting her head on top of Storm’s. “You looked fine. I’m just aggravated that I took the time to plan this video, and I wasn’t listened to,” she mumbled into Storm’s white hair.

“Call it a lesson learned,” Storm offered optimistically. “Now you know what you like and don’t like, and you’ll know what to do for the next ones.”

XXX

“Record this,” Billie suddenly stood up behind the studio microphone. “Record this. Oh.” She put her hand to her mouth to remove her Invisalign, sucking slightly to keep any drool contained.

“Oh, my God,” Finneas laughed.

“Eww,” Storm grimaced, instinctively touching her own Invisalign.

“The first track of the album should just be that,” Billie laughed, plopping onto her brother’s bed.

“All right, I’ve taken my teeth out. Let’s make an album,” Finneas jokes.

“I’ve taken my teeth out,” the girls laughed.

“My Invisalign has…”

“I have taken out my Invisalign…” the trio chanted together, adding to the joke.

“I have taken out my Invisalign… and this is the album,” Billie grinned. “Peaches, you should take yours out, too.”

“That’d be a spit nightmare,” Storm shook her head, shivering at the thought.

XXX

"Blocking an intersection during rush hour traffic is not permitted unless you entered the intersection on a green light." Billie’s goal for the year is to get her driver’s license, and she’s very determined—even if it means studying after a two-hour session in Finneas's studio. “Under any circumstances, even if your light is green, unless you have the right-of-way or a green light—it's under any circumstances,” she read aloud. “Because if there’s traffic and it’s stopped, you can’t enter the intersection. That blocks everything. That’s illegal. Yeah, so... no.”

“It’s called ‘don’t block the box,’” Storm chimes in from her spot, lying with her head on Billie’s lap.

“Yes, correct.”

“That’s what they say in New York. ‘Don’t block the box,’” Maggie adds to Storm’s comment.

“That about vagina,” Billie shakes her head. “And how do you know that?”

“You literally won’t stop reading the handbook out loud,” Storm sighs. “I’m pretty sure if I wanted to take the test, I’d pass.”

“You could take it and get your learner’s permit,” Patrick suggests.

“No, thank you. I’m meant to be driven, not the person doing the driving,” Storm says, a little sass showing through.

“You gonna be my passenger princess,” Billie babbles in a baby voice, covering her best friend’s face in kisses.

“Get off me!” Storm laughs, trying to push Billie away, though she’s still lying on her lap.

“Never!”

"I’ve always wanted to drive. I just, like, love cars,” Billie says from the passenger seat of her dad’s car, talking to the camera facing the back seats. Today was the day Billie was officially given legal permission to start learning how to drive, having passed her permit test. “Of course, my mom has a van, my dad has a Mazda, and Finneas has a Honda Fit, so I’m just, like, drowning in losers.”

“Oh, my gosh,” Maggie laughs at her daughter’s comments.

“All I want is a matte black Dodge Challenger.” Billie stops mid-sentence as her phone vibrates in her lap. Picking it up, she sees a text notification from Storm. “Peaches just texted me,” she announces to everyone in the car. Opening the text, she finds a picture. “Ahh, my best friend loves me!” she cheers, bouncing in her seat and tapping the roof of her dad’s car. She turns her phone to show everyone the picture Storm sent.

“She bought me gifts, decorated my room with balloons, and I’m pretty sure those are Polaroids of us hanging from the ceiling,” Billie gushes, turning the phone back to herself to admire the picture.

“That’s so beautiful,” Maggie smiles, clearly appreciating the special friendship her daughter shares, something many people long for.

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