#gotta love this show for balancing both so damn well

[whatsagirltoblogabout]

Went to rewatch 6.06 for the last big heist and forgot that there were all these goodbyes leading up to it. Came for the fun, got hit with the feels

[flwrkid14]

Duke Thomas: The “Normal One”? Think Again.

People love to slap the “normal” label on Duke Thomas, like he’s the most well-adjusted member of the Batfamily just because he handles the day patrol. Like, just because he’s not always hanging upside down from rooftops at 3 a.m., he’s automatically got a 9-to-5 schedule, goes home, and has a nice, balanced life.

But here’s the thing—Duke? He’s far from normal. The guy barely sleeps. Sure, he’s on day patrol, but guess what? When the rest of the family’s catching a few hours of sleep after their night shifts, Duke’s awake too. He’s hunched over cold cases or training, trying to outwork himself because, in his mind, he’s always gotta prove that he belongs.

He’s different, right? The Batfam was practically born in the night, and here comes Duke, shining in the daylight, but that doesn’t mean it’s easier for him. He feels like he’s gotta keep pushing, keep showing that he can hang with the best of them. He doesn’t have a tragic circus background or billionaire trauma, but he’s got this constant pressure to stay sharp, stay useful, stay valuable. So while everyone thinks he’s got this great sleep schedule, he’s actually running on fumes most of the time, barely catching a few hours here and there.

And somehow, despite having one of the worst sleep schedules in the family, Duke keeps showing up. He’s out there every day, fighting Gotham’s crime, feeling the weight of proving himself in a family where everyone’s a damn legend.

So yeah, keep calling Duke “the normal one.” He’ll just keep being quietly extraordinary, while burning the candle at both ends to make sure he’s always right where he needs to be.

[thetxtdevil]

Oh, to wake up and be called twin 😙😙😙

Anyway, here it is!

We all know, yeonjun has this whiny attitude right? However, he is the oldest and he tends to act maturely than others if he wanted to. Can you make someting about school student president yeonjun? Where he is the most strict school president the campus ever had. Then here's his vice pres, who balances it. Like, when yeonjun is too strict, she'd be like "that's too much, how about..." in the most gentle way. And theennn, before they can even leave the campus after being caught up on some works on the council office, yeonjun would be whining about these, like, "y/n, you shouldn't have changed the rules, they need to be punished because of what they have done" or something like that. But still, at the end of the day, yeonjun, he may be the president, but he is under the vice's power. 😋 like, she loves to play with and tease yeonjun whenever they are in the office, (i know you'll be adding the edging part 😳😋❤) and yeonjun is whiny whenever reader does this, but he still obeys. Hmmmm, but they do love each other. Being all time bestfriends with no boundaries 😭😆

- 👭🏻

Ooo twin this got my gears turning

---

"You did what to whom?" Yeonjun goes red out of anger.

"We might have toilet papered the head of the department's office thats why he's been strict about our publishing."

You giggle at the prank but look over worried at Yeonjun rubbing his face having a hard time not to lash out, "Why?" you ask

"We thought he's being too harsh" the younger students say.

It was true the head of the English department has been unnecessarily harsh on grading and simply on the students' lives. He was disapproving the fact that 'we have our own lives' and not truly focusing on work.

"Maybe we should not only being strict on publishing but no more access to the library" Yeonjun blurts out making the younger ones and even your gasp.

"Yeonjun, you can't do that they're in college the library has valuable resources" you plea, Yeonjun sighs trying not to look at your sweet face knowing too damn well that he'll melt.

Yeonjun rolls his eyes and waves his hand to let you approach the situation, "You're allowed access to the library but I want you to apologize and give your outmost respect to the HoD."

The students' tense posture relaxed showing their gratification towards you. You smile and walk away with Yeonjun.

Holding his arm you whisper, "You gotta stop acting tough or else no one is going to like you."

Yeonjun scuffs, "I need to show my dominance."

Both of you arrive at the empty council office, it was after hours, you both should go home too but at the same time both of you wanted to be together longer. Yeonjun starts his work on the computer immediately getting in the zone.

You walk over to the stack of papers needing filing, "do you?" Yeonjun looks over the desktop already forgetting what he said. "Where's all that dominance when I'm fucking you?"

Yeonjun's defined cheeks turn pink, thoughts of you runs through his mind. Thinking of you two having to reprint papers because they had both of you all over them, the time the janitor walking in see him tied up with his tie and you riding him on the desk, so on and so forth. He shifts in his chair looking back at the screen gulping down the drool forming in his mouth. You chuckle at his reaction, looking back at the papers which were starting to get less and less interesting.

You twirl around walking up behind Yeonjun's seated position, your hands on the arm rests as you hover over him. Acting like you were reading his words on the screen.

"You need a comma right there and change that to a period" you say leaning down so your breathe tickles his neck.

Yeonjun's nervousness was clear when his hands were shaking the mouse having a hard time pointing the arrow to the spot that needed to be fixed. He then feels your hand over his guiding the mouse to the right spot. You grin at his chest heaving, letting go of his hand you turn his chair around facing you. The man looks up through his eye lashes seeing your menacing grin. You straddle his hips determined to fit on the small desk chair. Your skirt flowed on top of each others groins, Yeonjun's hands instinctively guide up your thighs finding out you were wearing thin panties underneath. You kiss the man while slowly grinding on his growing hard on.

"Now show me that dominance you have."

A nuisance,

TxT's Devil

taglist: @inkigayocamman, @naoristerling

[dragon-watcher03]

Genji x Male!Angel! Reader

Headcanons

Note: you are Mercy's older brother (so around 40) and are part omni on your torso, left arm, and head. You started working with Ramattra after he saved and revived you when your parents abandoned you in a burning building. You now work with Overwatch. You look like Angel from Diablo except your wings are black. You can change the armour as well but you gotta keep the hood. Reader is implied to be part omnic

Genji:

When he first saw you he kinda was scared shitless. I mean, can you blame him? But he was also kinda intrigued by you, mostly by your wings.

He loves the way you look tho. You have that perfect balance of mystery and grace that makes you so pretty. He knows you have a handsome face even without seeing it.

When he saw you fight for the first time, he was in awe. Your moves were so fast yet graceful and after you would just walk around like nothing happened.

He loves messing with you sometimes, like poking the blackness of your face. Although if it actually does annoy you he'll stop.

He strives to break down that silent and serious facade you put up. But he only wants you to show that side to him, no one else. Ngl he's kinda possessive of you-

When you do finally feel comfortable enough to show your face to him, he decides he should do the same thing as well. So you both take off your hood/visor for the first time since you started dating.

Safe to say he was not disappointed. You were even more beautiful than he imagined, and he kinda just stared up at you in awe for a long time. When you poked his face, he finally snapped out of it and was kind of embarrassed. That entire time he was contemplating whether he should kiss you.

You guys are actually able to cuddle and it isn't uncomfortable bc your human side matches his, plus he likes the coldness of the metal on his cheek.

When y'all are alone, he can be quite clingy. He's very touch deprived, but so are you so it's a win-win. He's always holding your right hand with his left so that you guys can feel each other's skin and for once feel like you're humans again.

Soba loves you (kinda like a dog tbh-), which in the Shimada clan is an omen that you've found your soulmate. So now you're stuck with him. Not that you're complaining. She will often leave Genji and wrap around your neck loosely while smooshing her snoot into your cheek or shoulder, asking for attention (which you noticed Genji also does when he wants attention).

Hanzo is a bit iffy about you and how you're 3 years older than his little brother, but after finding out you were related to Mercy, he relaxed a bit. He thinks you're chill and likes hanging around you. But he tends not to bc he knows Genji can get jealous easily.

Kiriko really likes you. Y'all are like this🤞 It honestly makes Genji jealous with how close you guys are. You guys often rant to each other about some random topic, and by both, I mean Kiriko is the only one who rants while you just listen.

Mercy is happy for you both. She knows what your parents did and just wants you to be happy. She does keep her eye on Genji tho, she wants to make sure he doesn't break your robotic heart.

Damn this was long-

[theitgirlnetwork]

Better

Chapter 10: I Want Her

Charlotte's Club Outfit:

Charlotte's Baseball Outfit (Except Pretend it's a Cubs Jersey:

A Pic of People Being Subjected to Charlotte and Lip PDA:

Note: Hiii! This took longer than I thought, apologies, but here it is! It's a little shorter but when I'm less busy we'll be back to our regularly scheduled programming. Thank you so much for all of the love I've been receiving on this, it means the world. I hope you all continue to enjoy reading :) <3 Also hopefully I got this damn tag list right this time. Let me know if you wanna be added!

Taglist: @comeonatmebruh @heavenly1927 @th3h0nkz @yezzyyae

“So, you don’t think he’d like a flask with a drunk Mickey Mouse on it?”

Lip chuckles as he balances his phone between his shoulder and his ear. His hands are busy jotting down a string algorithm for one of his bosses that he’d figured out and memorized earlier that morning. “I think Mickey would like us to buy him some shots while we’re out tonight. And I think Mickey deserves nothing but us showing the fuck up.”

“Aww,” Charlotte whines on the other line, Lip can basically hear the pout he knows is on her face. “I wanna give him something to open. Knowing you Gallaghers Ian’s probably just giving him dick for his birthday. He can’t unwrap that. Unless I pick up a bow for him to put on it.”

“Uh, really don’t want to think about you helpin’ my brother put a bow on his dick for his boyfriend, babe.” Lip sniffs, curling his lip up in distaste.

“Such a prude.” she chirps. 

Lip ignores her, finishing up what he’s doing and ripping it from the notepad, going back to his computer to check his work. Suddenly, there’s a knock at his office door. It’s so weird for him to say, his office. Well, it's his and the other paid intern’s office to share. All of the poor fucks working for free share cubicles downstairs and the real employees get their own offices on Lip’s floor. But it’s mostly his, the other guy’s uncle is one of the big bosses and he rarely actually comes to work and normally when he does, it’s to play foosball with the other trust fund babies before going to happy hour. “Yeah?”

The door swings open and Eric comes strolling in, tossing a foam stress ball back and forth between his hands, the same douchebag look he always has is painted on his face. “Hey, Gallagher, you got time for a quick favor?”

“Uh, yeah. One sec,” Lip brings one hand to the phone, holding it sturdily against his ear. “Charlotte, I gotta go.” He tries to ignore the immediate irritation at the way Eric straightens when he hears Charlotte’s name.

“Ooh, Charlotte, huh? Someone important must be in the room.” she jokes.

“Oh, shit, the girlfriend. Put her on speaker.”

“I’m,” the blond tries and achieves, albeit poorly, to contain his temper. “I’m not putting her on speaker, man.” 

“No, bubba, it’s okay, I’ll say hi.” her sweet voice intercedes. Lip curses under his breath before putting the phone on speaker. “Hi, I’m Phillip’s girlfriend, Charlotte.”

Eric pulls up one of the extra seats of the room, leaning into the phone rested on Lip’s desk. “Nice to meet you, I’m Eric, Gallagher’s boss.”

Lip scoffs disbelievingly, shaking his head, looking away. He could tolerate shitheads like Eric all day, but with his girlfriend watching? It was a whole new ball game. “Aye-”

“For now,” Charlotte hums on the other side of the line. “But my baby is a genius, he’ll be running that place soon.”

Both Eric and Lip go silent for a moment, the latter trying to work away the smug smile that starts to spread on his face. Eric blinks before schooling an easy look on his own face and offering a laugh that’s a little too loud. “Yeah, I believe it.”

There’s an awkward silence where Lip just watches Eric rock between his two feet, staring at the phone on the desk, waiting for Charlotte to take back what she said, compliment him to even things out, or just politely hang up. He smirks, ducking his head at the fact that this dickhead just doesn’t know his girl. Charlotte would ride an awkward silence until the wheels fell off. Simply because she doesn’t think to fill it. That’s just who she is, she doesn’t fill silence, she doesn’t laugh at jokes she doesn’t think are funny and her fake smile looks more like an awkward grimace. 

After a minute passes Lip decides to take mercy on the poor guy and hang up. “Uh, bunny, I gotta get back to work, alright? I’ll meet you at the house when I get off.”

“‘Kay!” she chirps. “Love you.”

“Yeah, love you too.” Lip leans on the small wooden desk and waits for Eric to recover from the uncomfortable moment. “You, uh, needed something?”

“Right! Right, I did. Do. I need you to run some diagnostics on a program my dad sent over, I’d do it, but there’s so much on my desk right now, and you’re the only one who's as fast as me.” 

“Sure,” Lip shrugs. “Send it over.” 

Eric claps his hands together, a wider smile on his face as he turns to leave. The man stops mid-step, turning to face the blond again. “Hey, Gallagher, what’re you doing this weekend?”

“It’s my brother’s boyfriend’s birthday tonight so I’m gonna go to that. After that, I'll probably just find something to do with my girl, why?”

“You like baseball?” Eric asks. “Cubs are playing, me and some of the guys are going. You should come.”

Lip tries to look disinterested. He knows however much the tickets are he couldn’t pay it unless he dipped into the money he and Charlotte had been saving, and even then, it wouldn’t be enough to sit where these rich pricks sit unless he emptied the damn jar. “I dunno.”

“C’mon man, my dad already bought the tickets. It’s team bonding and shit.” Eric continues, leaning against the door frame. “It’s on Sunday, there’ll be beer and baseball, what more do you need to know? You can even bring your girl, everyone else does when we go. Except the ugly fuckers who don’t have one.”

“Alright, I’ll uh, talk to Charlotte.” Lip says noncommittally, eyeing the other man as he nods, turning away and exiting the office. “‘Fuckin’ weirdo.”

Ian used to worry about his brother a lot. Really. See, Lip is the oldest brother, and he’s never stepped out of that role. Despite coming off as a pretentious, narcissistic asshole, his big brother was actually a decent person. He cares about his family. When they were younger and Monica and Frank were in and out, Fiona and Lip had to grow up quickly. Everyone always talks about how Fiona stepped up. How she became their mom, but no one talks about how even though he was only a couple years older than Ian, Lip became their dad. For the younger kids, Lip is the only steady father figure they know. 

And being real, the kid has fuckin’ issues with women. Probably Monica’s fault, and all of their mommy issues manifested in different ways, Lip and Carl just have the misfortune of being straight. Between that raging bitch Karen who literally got off on fucking shit up for him, that old bag he was fucking at school, that one rich crazy bitch, and Mandy, Lip had been through the ringer. Not that most of that chaos wasn’t self-made. Ian wasn’t blind, he knows his brother is a slut. 

So, when sweet, prissy, little Charlotte Fisher rolled into town with her big innocent brown eyes, wide smile and soft hands that would tell anyone she’s never worked a day in her life, Ian had been nervous. She’s nice, their little siblings love her, and he thought his brother would absolutely ruin her. Sometimes he still does think that. 

But as time goes on, his mind has started to change. Lip has never called a girl his girlfriend outside of trying to get her into bed before. He’s never walked around with a polaroid picture of a girl in his wallet. He’s never tried this hard. This shit might be for real and Ian is happy about it. 

Now, he and Mickey have an actual couple to hang out with.

“Last one.” Lip takes a deep drag from the blunt between his fingers, turning his head in the direction away from Charlotte as he blows out the smoke. He passes the blunt back to Mickey before walking a couple steps away where his girlfriend stands, wrapping his arms around her to share the warmth as she shivers. “Told you you’d be cold. Gonna catch fuckin’ pneumonia.”

“The cold doesn’t make p-people sick. G-germs do.” she sasses, leaning into him, letting out a small sneeze. “Don’t say anything.”

“Too worried about being cute. Should’ve made you put some fuckin’ clothes on.”

“Nah,” Mickey says, flicking the burnt leftovers of the blunt to the ground, walking over. “Princess here is our ticket to free drinks, she’s dressed the part.” 

“We’re not pimpin’ my fuckin’ girlfriend, Mickey.”

“Isn’t she gonna start strippin’ like, next week? What’s the difference?”

“Oh-kay.” Ian interrupts, throwing his arm around Mickey’s shoulder, pulling him closer to him, “Let’s go in.”

“Wait,” Charlotte pauses, before they can start walking up the street to the bar. “Is, um, is Mandy coming? Because, you’re her brother and I don’t wanna, like,” she gestures between her and Lip, “rub it in, you know?”

“Nah, you’re good. M’seein’ her tomorrow, shithead has to work tonight.” Mickey shrugs. “Now, I’m sick of standin’ here talkin’, it’s my fuckin’ birthday and I’m fuckin’ sober, it’s ridiculous.”

The group makes their way into the busy bar. It was one of the few nights they had a DJ instead of a live band which was likely the reason it was so busy. Mickey and Ian shove their way through the crowd, Charlotte right behind them with Lip’s arm around her waist, hand resting on her stomach, holding her to him. 

Once they find a spot with a little space, Mickey turns around and nudges Charlotte. “C’mon princess, this pussy already said he’s not drinkin’ cause he thinks he needs to watch me or somethin’, go shot for shot with me.”

Before the woman can even answer her boyfriend’s free hand is cupping her jaw, guiding her to look back at him, pulling her into a kiss. The word ‘no’ mumbled against her lips. She pouts, and the pair mumble amongst themselves as Ian and Mickey watch. After a few moments Lip rolls his eyes and nods, kissing her lips again before letting her go. 

Charlotte bounces excitedly, grinning at Mickey. “Kay, you wanna see something cool?” Without letting him answer, she straightens, rolling her shoulders back and putting an arch in her back as she walks a little ways away to the bar where a couple of guys are standing. She leans forward on the bar, poking her butt out a little as she looks around, appearing bored.

It’s not long before one of the guys turns to her and starts talking, leaning down to whisper in her ear as his friends behind him stare at her ass. Ian turns his head to look at Lip, who is looking away from his girlfriend, the muscle in his jaw working overtime. 

A couple moments later, Charlotte was coming shuffling back with three shots and a beer balanced in her hands, a bright smile on her face. “Drinks on me gentlemen.” she says, passing two shots to Ian, one for him, one for Mickey and handing Lip the beer. Lip’s finger slips through her back belt loop, tugging the girl to him again as he locks eyes with the guys who've purchased them over her head, sipping the beer they’d just paid for. 

“Bottoms up, princess.” Mickey says, bring his glass to Charlotte’s before tossing it back. The men chuckle as the girl sputters and gags at the taste, one eye twitching with discomfort.  Lip runs his hand along her side soothingly.

“Yuck, I don’t want any more of those.”

Charlotte had several more. Three and a half. She didn’t get a chance to finish the last shot before Lip wrestled it from her hands, slamming it down on the bar and pulling her away from it. 

She, Mickey and Ian had done their fair share of dancing. It mostly consisted of Ian and Charlotte taking turns grinding on Mickey to irritate him and the two men occasionally stepping away to dance with each other, only pausing to scare off whatever guy that was trying to get Charlotte to give them the time of day. Lip lingered at the bar, offering them supportive nods and nursing his beer. He’d chosen not to drink too much considering he’d already smoked and his girlfriend was currently slurring her words together as she stumbled her way over to him.

“Hi, bubba.” she hums over the loud music, swaying to the side a little as Lip’s arm shoots out to balance her, pulling her to him. He nudges her nose with his before looking at her wide smile and lidded eyes.

“Hi, baby. Havin’ fun?” He smiles.

“Yeah.” she tosses her arms around his neck leaning into him. “Stop laughin’ at me.”

“M’not, c’mon.”

“You haven’t danced with me at all, let’s go over there.” she whines, pulling at him and pouting.

Lip taps her lightly on the back of the thigh, “Stop whining” he murmurs in her ear before turning her so her back is against his front. Lip slides his hands down Charlotte’s sides to her hips, pulling her close to him. “I don’t dance.”

The woman in front of him rolls her eyes, placing one hand over his and the other going to the back of his head, burying in the hair at his nape. She turns her head so she can look at him with a sleepy smile. “You do with me.”

Lip leans back on the bar, wetting his lips as he watches Charlotte roll her ass back against him, grinding on his dick. His blue eyes shift between her ass and trying to get a glimpse of her face, one of his hands moving to the gap in the back of her jeans, grabbing the space there to guide her movements, biting back a groan when she bends in further, arching in front of him. 

“Gettin’ sick of this place, ready to go birthday boy?” Ian asks as Mickey yawns. His mission was accomplished, he’d taken his boyfriend out, showed him a good time for his birthday. Tomorrow they’d do the family vibe, with cake, streamers, and his one sane sibling. He slings his arm around him and goes to guide him over to his brother and his girlfriend. The last he’d seen the pair they’d been basically fucking through their clothes against the bar.

The redhead pauses in his steps, laughing disbelievingly at the sight in front of him.

A couple feet away is his brother, his girlfriend in his arms. The pair are quietly laughing and leaning back and forth to whisper in each other’s ears. His brother’s stance is relaxed, the only thing tense on him is his grip on his swaying drunk girlfriend, an easy smile that Ian hasn’t seen in a long time on Lip’s face. If he didn’t know better he’d say he seemed happy. Charlotte’s hands cup his face as she drunkenly presses kisses all over his face, leaving pink lip stains all over his mouth, cheeks and neck. 

Ian didn’t want to break up the scene but he’d really needed to get Mickey home. Once he’s rounded up the group, he and Lip guide their drunken partners to the car, ushering them in, and shushing Mickey’s slurred curses. After he drives Ian and Mickey to Mickey’s home Lip pulls off with a still very drunk but now a lot less rowdy Charlotte in the passenger seat, promising to return the car the next day. 

Ian watches as his older brother climbs into the driver’s seat of the car, checking the girl’s seatbelt and brushing the hair out of her face tenderly before the drive into the night. As much as he’d felt bad for Mandy he’d known that she and his brother would never work. Ian loves her, but Lip didn’t. Not the way she wanted. He couldn’t convince her of that. But Ian almost wishes that she’d seen Lip tonight. He was a different person when he was with Charlotte, not so bitter. Not acting like he was walking around with the weight of the world on his shoulders. As crazy and fucked up he is, Ian knows Mickey is what’s best for him. He’s starting to think Charlotte is what’s best for Lip.

“Fuckin’ Frank.” Fiona huffs, ripping her covers off at the sound of her front door opening. She’d bet all of the dollars she doesn’t fucking have that it’s him. Either way, him or whatever idiot decided to try to rob them were gonna get a bat to the face. She eases down the stairs, wooden weapon in her hand as she flicks the light on. “Jesus, Lip!”

“Shut the fuck up!” he whisper-yells. Slung over his shoulder is a giggling, very likely drunk Charlotte. 

“Shit, is Lottie drunk? Good going genius she’s not supposed to drink ‘til her birthday.” Fiona hisses, running a hand over her hair and dropping the bat onto the couch.

“Well, Mickey decided they’d share today.” Lip grumbles, adjusting his girlfriend on his shoulder before pushing past his sister and going up the stairs, rolling his eyes as he feels her following closely behind. 

Lip rests Charlotte softly on the bed, looking sighing as she flops backward. “No baby,” he pulls her up by her arms. “Up.”

Fiona leans in the doorway and watches in shock as her little brother cares for the girl on the bed in front of him. She’d never seen him be so gentle with anyone they weren’t related to. He chuckles lightly as he encourages the still giggling girl to lift her arms, tugging her tight t-shirt up and over her head, reaching around and unhooking her bra before digging in his drawer and pulling out one of his bigger shirts to pull over her head. “Pass me one of your wipes if you’re gonna stand there.” 

“Oh-” Fiona had forgotten herself, so shocked by the scene, she quickly walks over to the bathroom, grabbing her pack of makeup wipes and handing them to her brother. 

Lip takes the wipes and crouches in front of the girl, resting his hands on her knees. “Wanna go wash your face or are wipes good for now. Can you get up?” Charlotte’s eyes are clearly heavy, she leans her forehead against his, giggling as she shakes her head no, rubbing their heads together. “No? Okay, eyes closed, bunny, or it’ll burn.” The woman whimpers and struggles drunkenly as he drags the cold wipe across her face. Blue eyes sharp with focus as he tries to get every bit off. When he’s satisfied that he’d gotten all he could he kisses her lips before pushing off of the floor and reaching under his pillow, producing a light pink scarf. “Stay still, you know m’not good at this part.”

“Don’t wan’it.” she whines.

“You’re drunk, and you’re gonna be pissed tomorrow, if I don’t put this shit on you. Sit still.” Lip cups her jaw, giving her a serious look, only to be met with a wide grin. Fiona chuckles behind them, shrugging when her brother cuts his eyes at her.

“She’s gonna need aspirin and water for tomorrow.” Fiona offers.

“Yeah, I fuckin’ know, I’ve had her chugging water since the bar-ow!” 

Both Gallagher siblings look down to a now half asleep Charlotte, clean faced with her scarf tied as neatly as Lip could manage on her head, hanging slightly to one side. Her hand is up, offending fingers suspended in the air after pinching Lip’s arm roughly. “Ow.” she mocks, her eyes closing. “Be nice. She’s helping, trying to help me.” she slurs.

Lip rolls his eyes, offering a gruff, ‘sorry’ to his sister, as he nudges his girlfriend to lie down in the bed, kissing her forehead. “‘M’fuckin’ helpin’ you, brat.”

Another hand reaches out, this time to roughly tap him on the cheek. “Thank you, bubba.”

Fiona snickers again. “Bubba?”

Lip huffs, now starting to get himself ready for bed, flicking his sister off as a cue for her to exit. Fiona quietly closes the door behind her and returns to her room. 

As she climbs into bed, she thinks to herself about all of the times she’d been embarrassed about her brothers’ behavior with women and men alike. They were sluts, the both of them, minus Liam and Carl. And often selfish, rude and disrespectful. But now they’d both found people who made them better. Who taught them how to care for people the right way, outside of the family. She was happy to watch them experience young love, no catches, no conditions, no reason to be hard all the time. They’d found people who looked at them like they were worth something. Worth everything. Fiona resolves to herself that she would find that for herself and hope her remaining siblings would do the same. She hated not being able to chat with V about the extent of Lip and Charlotte’s relationship. But maybe it was worth it. Maybe Charlotte and Mickey were. Even if they are extra mouths to feed. 

Eric takes a sip of his beer and nods along with another dull conversation with his coworkers that he was forced to pretend he was friends with. They’d been here for fifteen minutes and thus far, two of them had disappeared to do coke in the bathroom, several of them had fought with their girlfriends/wives/fiancés and the rest had been droning on and on about the stock exchange, something that he truly knows nothing about. His fucking accountant handles that shit for him. He was bored and annoyed to say the least. The game hadn’t started yet and Rebecca had been a bitch all morning. She was mad because she didn’t feel like coming to sit through a baseball game, despite the fact that they’d not only have a box but an open bar pre-paid for. The only thing that got her dressed was a promise to take her out for sushi after. Eric fucking hates sushi. 

Really, he was waiting on Gallagher. He’d actually been surprised with how much he liked Lip. He figured they’d have nothing to talk about, but the guy was pretty quiet in general. He was a great listener, and when he did say shit, it was actually important. Sure he seemed a little wound-up but he’d heard from his dad that their family friend, Ms. Helene helped him get this job because he’s broke and has got like, a family of 9 or something. Eric found the little snippets of Lip’s life he shared interesting. Like…well…his hot sister who’d stopped by for lunch one day. And his even hotter girlfriend he has a picture of on his desk, next to the picture of the 5,000 kids he lives with. 

Lip shows up with Charlotte fifteen minutes before the game is about to start. The pair walk up, hand in hand, matching pace with his easy strides and her peppy steps. When they approach one of the guys from legal (Eric thinks) says what they’re all thinking under his breath. “Goddamn.”

The woman is wearing a cropped, long sleeved black top with low hanging black pants, her sparkling belly button ring on display. Over top is a button down jersey she’s left open and on her head is a matching Cubs hat, her long, silky black hair hanging down over her shoulders. 

Lip is wearing a similar outfit, but with a black fitted sweater, his larger fingers intertwined with her smaller manicured ones. 

Eric forces himself to stop ogling the girl, clapping his hands together and welcoming them over. “Gallagher! You made it, glad you came.”

“Uh, thanks for having us.” he pulls the girl closer by her waist, obviously noticing the eyes on her. “This is my girlfriend, Charlotte.”

“Hi, nice to meet you.” The girl says sweetly, offering him a smile as she leans into her boyfriend. 

Eric urges his eyes to stay on her face, and off of their body language. But the way Lip’s thumb is rubbing along the skin on the girl’s waist, the way she’s staring up at him so adoringly, Eric felt like he was being excluded from something, despite fully being part of this conversation. 

He doesn’t realize he hadn’t spoken until Lip takes it upon himself to introduce him. “Bunny, this is Eric.”

“Oh, uh yeah, I’m Eric, I uh-” he remembers her negative reaction to him referring to himself as Lip’s boss and flounders for an alternative. “I work with Lip.” 

“Yeah, he told me.” she chirps, rocking on her feet a little. “Thanks for inviting us. I’ve never gone to a baseball game. I’m gonna try my best to keep up, Phillip tried his best to explain to me on the way here.” 

“Aw really? Well, my girlfriend Becca is an old pro, I drag her here all the time, she’ll teach you the ropes of how to keep occupied while we watch the game. Go join the ladies, she’s the one looking like she didn’t know she was coming here in slacks.” Eric smiles. His smile drops slightly as he watches the couple exchange a look. 

Lip tilts his head downward, lowering his voice to a murmur Eric strains his ears to hear. “Do you wanna go?”

Charlotte mulls it over for a second before shrugging and patting his chest. “Yeah, it’s fine, hang with the guys, I’ll come back over if you miss me too much.”

“Yeah, whatever, brat, go make nice.” The blond banters back, patting his girlfriend’s ass as he kisses her before playfully shoving her in the direction of the women gathered around the drinks. Lip sidesteps a little, blocking the crowd of men staring at the woman’s ass as she makes her way over to the other girls. “You, uh, guys make bets already?”

Trevor, some guy from…marketing (Eric swears he’s seen him on that floor) sighs, “No, thank God you brought it up-”

Suddenly, they’re a very lively bunch, placing bets that Lip is apparently calling, pulling off his own hat and placing the money in it. Eric tries to focus on the fun and Lip’s apparent godlike memory that allows him to remember who said what, but his eyes keep drifting. He watches as every couple of minutes, Charlotte and Lip look at each other, checking in without saying a word before returning to their respective groups. Once, Charlotte had come over to bring Lip a beer once she’d noticed all the other guys had one. The only time Rebecca had come over was when she wanted money for a fresh pretzel and even then, Charlotte had been in tow. Apparently, the two women had been getting along well. Becca had demanded enough money to get Charlotte a pretzel too, to which Gallagher immediately reached in his wallet and produced money Eric knew he didn’t have to spare, and gave it to the woman. When they’d come back, Eric’s girlfriend had a pretzel she was already eating and Lip’s had chicken tenders and fries for them to share. 

As the game got more interesting and the men started shouting and getting excited, the women grew antsy, Charlotte included. Seth’s girlfriend was really intrigued by the game, but that may have also been because she’s into baseball players. Becca was posted up in the corner, on the phone with the restaurant she wanted to go to and Charlotte was standing behind Lip’s chair, hands on his shoulders. 

“Come sit, baby.” he says, patting his lap. Charlotte huffs as she makes her way around the front, plopping down in his lap and resting her cheek against his. “Lemme hear it.”

“I’m bored.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah and this game is long and you didn’t mention that.”

“You done?”

“No, and it’s cold.” Charlotte sighs. “Now, I’m done.”

“Now you’re done. Cool, I can go back to watchin’ now or what?”

Oof. Eric thinks, waiting for her to start yelling, throwing a fit until Lip offers her something to calm down. That’s what they all want, he thinks. Instead, her brows furrow and she glances at Eric before grabbing the color of Lip’s shirt, tugging his ear to her lips to whisper into it.

Blue eyes go wide for a moment before a ‘uh, fuck yeah, I wanna do that.’ is murmured and she’s hopping off of his lap. “Uh, hey man, we’ll be right back, do we need a code to get back in or…”

“Oh, no, man you’re good. You guys okay? If you need something they’ll bring it in here if we call down-”

“I left something I need in the car.” Charlotte intercepts, pulling at Lip again, leading him out of the suite. Moments later Rebecca sits down in Lip’s seat next to Eric, letting out a sigh.

“So, Phillip’s girlfriend gets to leave and I don’t?”

30 minutes later and the pair comes back, looking relatively the same, despite being slightly disheveled and what appears to be a fresh hickey blooming on Charlotte’s neck. The game is almost over and immediately Lip gets back into wheeling and dealing. He starts settling up on bets while Charlotte collects the numbers of the other girls.

“No seriously, we need to keep in touch.” Rebecca smiles, hugging the girl tightly.

“Yeah, girl, I’d love that, we should hang out soon.” Charlotte hugs back. “Maybe we’ll even let Phillip and Eric come on our date.”

“Maybe, but we’re gonna have to hang out without prying ears too. I’ve been watching you two, you’ve got to tell me what type of shit you’re pulling in the bedroom, you’ve got blondie wrapped around your finger. Eric told me you’ve only known each other a couple of months and at this rate you’ll end up with a ring before me.”

“I…I’m sure that’s not true.” Charlotte says quietly, letting her eyes travel over to her man, unsurprised that he looks over to her as soon as she reaches him, eyes locking. They’ve been in sync like that a lot lately. “How long have you two been together?”

“Since high school,” The girl huffs. “He’s dragging his feet as all men do. I mean, I’ve played my part, even got mommy and daddy’s approval. On both sides. We’re all fucking waiting on him. You’re smart, getting in on the ground up, not picking one that was born with a golden spoon shoved down his throat. But my parents wouldn’t settle for less. Guess yours are trusting the process.”

“Um, exc-” Before Charlotte can finish, Eric gestures Rebecca over and the girl pats her arm one more time before going to her boyfriend. Charlotte makes her way over to Lip, thoughts heavy. They are getting more serious. Despite being together for a short amount of time, she can’t imagine her life without him now. She’d been dodging the concept of introducing him to her parents for a while because she knew how’d they’d act. She’d seen a live demo of it with Kev. They’d treat him like white trash, the last thing Charlotte thought of him as. They’d be condescending, and mean. But it’d happen eventually, because…well she doesn’t plan on going anywhere, and she hopes he doesn’t plan to either. 

After everyone gets separated in the crowd of people leaving the game, Eric waits on the sidewalk for the car he’d called for him and Rebecca. She was babbling about something or another he didn’t care about when he saw Charlotte and Lip. The woman is giggling loudly as the man tickles her, the two of them damn near bumping people every few seconds as if no one else was here. 

“I’m never going to a game with you again” the girl breathes, gasping in air as he stops tickling and starts holding her hand. 

Eric watches as Lip rolls his eyes, pulling her into him as he walks her to the passenger side of some old, beat up truck. “Yeah, okay,” he laughs, opening the door for her, “I can hear you now when I try to go without you, ‘bubba, please, take me with you, I’ll be bored without you,’” he mocks.

“I don’t sound like that.”

“No?” he snorts, closing her door and going around to the driver’s side. 

As he watches them interact Eric can’t help but think, he wants what they have. There’s a small pang of jealousy that rings in his chest. But it isn’t until he watches Charlotte lean over to manually unlock the door on the driver’s side so Lip can get in that an even more intrusive thought enters his mind.

I want her.

[onestormeynight]

Halloween

The Harpers and the Canales, save for Billie who wouldn't join them until later, met up in Willow Creek for a harvest festival on Halloween. Ellie even showed up; her snotty nature was starting to soften when it came to Rosie. Ellie loved her nephew Mateo. There was a small part of her that mourned the relationship she could have had with the twins if she hadn't been poisoned by her mother as a child.

Well, with Ida at least. That Nellie girl was weird with an emphasized duh.

Ellie had come to the conclusion that it didn't matter if Rosie was or was not her older sister; she was permanently in her life. Sam adored her and Billie was her best friend. Rosie had never been mean to her without provocation. Aunt Penny had insisted her entire life that Rosie was Ricky's child. The only person whispering conspiracy was Lily, and the wicked bitch was dead.

"It's good to see you, Rosie," Ellie said.

Rosie raised an eyebrow. "Is it?"

"It could be."

Rosie gave her that frozen analytical look that made Sam fidget nervously. "It will be, I think."

"Why are you being weird?" Sam asked Ellie as Rosie played with Mateo.

"I'm not, I'm being civil."

"That's what I said. What is it, El? What are you doing?"

"Turning over a new leaf, why don't you try leaving it alone? Mind your business. Go check on your weird niece or something."

"She's also your weird niece."

"No, I'm only claiming the normal one."

Nellie, the weird niece in question, was entering a new piece into her journal. She found that if she was going to be forced out of the safety of her house, writing for the first few minutes made it easier on her. It gave her a chance to fully observe the area and people.

As usual, Robin was fishing. Festivals were a little loud for his tastes.

Ida was not great at skating. Every thump from her falling down elicited a giggle from her. Sure, her butt was starting to get sore, but she'd never had so much fun falling down. Nellie and Rosie eventually joined her, both of them only slightly better at staying upright than her.

"You're going to break something, Pushy," Nellie laughed, helping her up for the umpteenth time.

"I'll be fine, Grumpy," Ida said, holding onto her sister's forearms to regain balance. "It's good to see you laugh."

Nellie gave her a reluctant smile and eyeroll. "I laugh."

"It's good to see you laugh outside. Away from the house. Away from the valley."

"Shush. We've gotta head to Henford, let's go."

Sam took Mateo home, the toddler having been tuckered out from the festival. Billie was able to meet up with the rest of them once she was off work at The Gnome's Arms for the Finchwick Fair and costume party.

"You look so different without your glasses," Rosie said to Ida. "I love this costume, though."

"I think I look different because I'm blue, Ma."

"Aunt B call back?" Rosie asked, seeing Billie wear the iconic costume her Aunt B had worn to Billie's wedding.

"I mean, it was always one of my favorites. Plus she wore ridiculous eye thing every day afterwards."

"Mom nearly died laughing at my baby shower."

"Damn, we've been in this Simblr a long time," Billie sighed.

"Don't break the fourth wall, it's weird. No one will notice."

"...and then, SHHHK! You got 'em. Slippery dudes," Robin was saying to Ellie at the bar. Ellie was looking away.

"You're kinda weird," she sighed.

Robin finished his drink and stood up. "I'm not the one wearing the same outfit as her sister in law. Weirdo."

((prev)) ((next))

[beemers-hell]

what's shindas, ikutes and fumeis' relationship dynamic like? i love the polyam rep I wanna know more Abt em!!

RUBS MY HANDS EVILY

lol get ready for an essay and a half

Ok so the first thing you gotta know about the mob poly is that they have been best friends since they were in kindergarten. They have been ride or dies for each other since they were literally in elementary school. They have been through every high and low of each others lives together, so already they have a really tight bong just through that.

Fumei was the first to make any moves, which was with Shinda, they're high school sweethearts that were just meant to be. Both Fumei and Shinda would confide in Ikute about their feelings for each other, and when they did start dating they'd still chat with Ikute about their feelings and how much they loved the other and how how hot the other one is and date plans and all that junk. And Ikute was chill with it cause those were his besties, however he did start to get a little tortured by Those Feelings after a while cause he realized he liked Fumei, but didn't act on it cause Duh he's already dating Shinda. But Shinda is really fucking good at reading people so she eventually kinda pushed him until he told her what was up, and she didn't even have a problem with it she was like "bitch shoot your shot anyway were already super close to each other i trust you to not take him from me" and like, it didn't happen immediately cause Ikute is just reserved like that. But eventually thr two had a particularly Gay ass moment with each other and he folded and spilled about his feelings for Fumei, and Fumei's an absolute sweetheart with too much love for his poor little heart anyway so he was like "I like you alot too the way I like Shinda alot I can make this work cause I want it alot" so then the poly was formed like, near the end of high school.

And now they're in their 30s and still together so obviously they got their shit figured out!

Firstly, Fumei, since he's the connecting point: Like I said, he's a massive sweetheart! When he loves someone he LOVES them; it can be a little overbearing sometimes but he knows Shinda and Ikute's boundaries and limits with everything like he knows the back of his hand so he rarely ever has problems with overdoing it with them specifically. He's very much a heart on the sleeve kind of dude and does everything in his power to make sure his partners know how much he loves and cares for them. He's out voluntarily getting up before everyone else to make full course meals for breakfast, he's hiding little sticky notes with disgustingly cutesy love letters written on them in their belongings, he's taking care of their aches and pains when they complain, he's very much a very selfless guy that gives his all to his partners. He does have to Show His Love differently between them because they aren't the same person of course, but the point is he gives his all.

Hes also being kinda fruity with one of the Mob Poly's friends, Lucius, a side character guy I haven't mentioned like, Ever Lol, but they're more of a fwb kinda deal rn. Shinda and Ikute are cool with it cause they think he's tight anyway lol

Shinda's more relaxed about it, she shows her love more through small gestures, she's not as showy about it as Fumei is. Like she will make sure you know you're loved by her, but she's content with just chilling and not worrying about it 24/7. She' s a really good counter balance to Fumei, cause she loves the fact that he dotes on her (and Ikute, obvs) all the time and treats her like royalty, and he loves the fact that she's so casual and chill about it. They're like, almost opposites, but yanno the saying!

Ikute, like I said, is very reserved, so he rarely engages in outwardly obvious acts of love and all that gay shit, but Fumei (and Shinda, by extension) knows damn well how much that dude loves him. Cause Ikute doesn't open up about his feelings and struggles as easily as he does with them, or talk for hours on end about whatever subject he's fixated on with anyone thr way he does them, or accept any physical touch as normal the same way he does them. Ikute doesn't regularly do very big showy grandiose acts of love like Fumei, nor does he engage in smaller acts like Shinda does...it's kind of random whether or not he'll surprise them with something big or do something smaller, its mainly dependent on his mood. The point is, Ikute doesn't act the same way with the whole rest of the world the way he acts with Fumei (and Shinda), there's like a flip thats switched when he knows he's alone with them and feels far more comfortable. That's how they know!

And, the important thing to note is, Shinda and Ikute don't love each other the same way they love Fumei. Cause like, yanno, Ikute is a gay man, and Shinda obvs respects that, he's not attracted to her like he is Fumei. However, they still are so very close to each other, and trust each other like no other, hell they are physically affectionate with one another, its just different from how they trust and love Fumei. I guess it's kinda complicated to explain? Not in like a negative way, they just have a more complex relationship than friendship, but isn't romance either? They're like "You feel like an extension of me you understand me like nobody else does I would do everything in thr world for you" but not in like a soulmates-who-complete-each-other kinda way. They're not just the type of romance web that's like "were dating the same guy and not each other but were cool" its a little deeper than that. I'd like to say they're on some 70s queer "fuck it we ball" kinda shit but I'm not sure how to explain it. I think a queer platonic relationship is how you'd describe them? Like I said its complicated lmao

Point is: These bitches can fit SOOO much gay shit into them

[allbeendonebefore]

I have to ask nutmeg, I have to

Good to see when one is aware of one's branding ;)

nutmeg ⇢ how’s your room/home decorated? do you have a specific theme or style going on?

my bedroom is kind of a mess and will be for the foreseeable future because it's just kind of being used as storage at the moment rather than decorated. I spent the whole holiday monday moving those damn blackout curtains and my mum is still like "wouldn't drapes be better?" like ma i am working with what i already have and can afford and they do not make drapes short enough for those windows and i am no longer in possession of the sewing machine because you all took it back out of province with you aaaaaaaaaaa

but apart from the ugly but lifesaving curtains and half the bookshelves in the house being crammed into my room I try to have a few personal touches (fairy lights, a nice framed star wars poster). Most of the conscious thought goes into my office.

I'd say it's an eclectic mix of sci fi posters and local art (both mine and others) and a bunch of knicknacks both recent and from childhood. It's not so much themed as just a reflection of my life (and i also keep getting edmonton swag).

i SUPPOSE i can show pictures but be warned its mostly just me like "gotta get stuff off the floor" and not much in the way of serious thoughtful design (which requires some money and some talent). There is some feng shui though to try to balance out the "idk what i am doing" chaos.

Office

ft. ted harrison, art by a person who didnt appreciate it so i keep it out of her reach so she cant destroy it, edmonton skyline print

beluga i have had since birth, star trek / wars figurines and some other guys as well as the tops of two out of many degrees

i have been digging all my pins out of storage to put on here plus necklaces and there's all the giant roadside attractions in alberta prints made by nancy nickolson who's art i love

i had books on this shelf for my zoom background to make me look like an intellectual and then the shelves fell on my head once so i decided to move them elsewhere hahahaha so now i just look like a weirdo obsessed with edmonton transit and star trek which is true.

(ignore the stupid hat it was a gift for my dad that he absolutely doesnt want but i dont know what to do with it)

postcards from places i've lived that aren't edmonton featuring art by @en-theos hehehe

some posters including a print from fort edmonton, local art propaganda, and a very kind yelp review printed out and given to me by a frequent houseguest :)

everyone is just jealous of my edmonton swag (and my piles of roasted peanuts for the magpies)

Living Room

moved my nice zoom shelf books (contributed by @randomoranges over here (and you must understand i liked voltron Before the reboot)

there's some dinosaurs my sister painted for me, several matryoshka dolls, some montreal art, kitty cats, and very tiny elgin marbles.

this is like the gay trek/who shelf i guess?? (ignore the calgary flag that's not real)

the star wars shelf (c3po is filled with orange pekoe so that's c3pekoe) and the eclectic plant collection (some of which belongs to @quatschmachen). They're hanging out here because i blacked out my office windows during the heatwave.

i keep getting these model valley line lrts and they have to live SOMEWHERE okay

tbh now that i have many of these i am thinking of rearranging them in rainbow order but i love them sooo much.

I do have piles of art that needs to be framed languishing in drawers and stuff but that's for Later. enjoy :)

[spidersins]

Leonaaaa, where do I begin? Your blog is gorgeous! I love the colors and the ambiance of your aesthetic. It really encapsulates the showmanship aspect of Angel's personality while still containing a bit of softness through the desaturated pink hues. I really love all the little details you give Angel via your headcanons. It' the mundane little th8ngs that mske him feel so relatable. And I am always wowed by the depth of your intrinsic analysis of his psyche, emotions and relationships with others. All those aspects paint a very well-rounded & human character beneath the glamorous & sassy exterior. I also adore the way you give use insight into Angel's more vulnerable side, when the narrative allows. Seeing him occasionally open up to other muses either warms my heart or breaks it. I love perusing your plots & I'm always happy to see you on the dash. ♡

*makes strangled noises* wait no i thought it would be something dumb or meme-like, why you gotta come into my inbox so damn sweet??? i'm quite sure i've repeated myself a million times but i can't not compliment you - so once again to bore everyone on the dash, your portrayal of vlentino is just breathtaking! the depth and style you've put into crafting their character is phenomenal, and the care you've taken to flesh out their personality and backstory shows such dedication. the world-building surrounding him feels so intricate and immersive—i’m constantly blown away by the layers you've added to their character and how meticulously they tie into the larger universe ( tbh the concept as a whole intrgues me far more than him being a sinner overlord and i am forever greedily eating up the headcanons you post ). your attention to both their suave exterior and the darker undercurrents in his personality give such a dynamic presence in your writing.

not to mention the fact your aesthetic is to die for! every visual and design choice you make on your blog feels like it captures valentino’s essence perfectly, balancing elegance with just the right amount of edge. it seems so uniquely yours and so right for val. i’m always looking forward to seeing what you create next, and it’s an honour to share the dash with someone who brings this level of dedication to their character. you are just simply fantastic!

[melvisik]

If there's one thing we've seen from the OFMD teaser (among other things) it’s that Stede's going to be learning quite the skill set this season - sword fighting, gun slinging, doing a punch. Ultimately pirating himself up:

So, I hear people are beginning to suspect THAT is what Samba meant when he said: "[He said] season one was Stede going from a puppet to a real boy. And season two is Stede becomes a man."

(The link is not letting me post after multiple attempts, but it can be found online) And sure, I'm hoping for some hot hints at intimacy as much as the next person (akin to those we've had so far like satiated smirks rising from the floor, the shrieks of a damn good ravishing, naked figures lounging in bed), but I don't think anyone isn't on board with this idea either. Frankly, it's great that Stede's learning how to defend himself in a rough world, and it'll be interesting to see how the show balances that with the tender-hearted, fabulous fop we fell in love with. More to the point, will he still be the darling Ed fell in love with? I suppose that's why it was so important for Stede and Ed to have their first kiss while both stripped down to the bare (neutral) essentials:

No Gentleman Pirate or Dreaded Blackbeard to be found here.

So maybe Ed letting that handkerchief go will turn out to be a good thing? Possibly a representation of that part of Ed still holding onto the idea of glamour, of being in what's considered a 'superior class'?

He doesn't really need it. (Okay, okay, yes also he was loudly throwing his heart and hopes away, but you can't hinge your whole source of existence and goodness on one person. Ed gotta be happy being Ed with or without Stede.) And obviously Stede is doing the right thing here 100%. It's what he should have done in the first place if he really wanted to understand the harsh realities of piracy - cast off his riches and property (and give his family a frickin proper explanation) before heading off with only the shirt on his back.

But goddamn it, he LIKES those fancy rags and that's just a part of him, isn't it? So, so happy to see that adorable twirl in that sweet red coat and trousers number:

Get it, love. He might be going badass, but not so much as to go sailing down the straits of Kraken (or well, you know what I mean). He's still fabulous.

[fancymuffinparty]

SnK modern au writing prompts/fic ideas...

...that I may or may never get to but if someone else wants to use these for inspo please do and then let me read it :')

Eren and Porco Pizza Shop AU 🍕 They're coworkers who absolutely hate each other's guts and constantly clap back at one another and talk shit throughout the duration of their shifts lmao. But eventually, over time, they develop camaraderie because their personalities are actually pretty similar, they like the same music, and they both hate their boss (can be Levi or Zeke). Slow burn enemies to friends with all sorts of shenanigans. (Bonus: they fight over Pieck, who's a regular at the shop)

Zeke x Frieda, hookup/fake dating au. They initially start hooking up to piss off their dads, Grisha and Rod, who hate each other. But then oops, they catch feels. "We're only doing this to piss off my dad." "Wait... I thought we were doing this to piss off my dad??"

ANY SURFING AU OF ANY KIND!!! 🏄‍♂️🏄‍♀️ I feel like Ymir would best fit this au tho. Ymir's a pro surfer and kicks ass. Or; the Warriors take surfing lessons. Annie and Pieck get it right the first try. Porco and Marcel need more practice. Bertolt struggles but gets it eventually. Reiner is too beefy to balance all that muscle lmao.

Eren and Historia ballroom competition. (I have this planned for Silhouettes!)

Dance competition. Can be any pairs, shippy or non-ship. But I like ere/hisu for this one. Along with Porco paired with Pieck. Bertolt and Ymir partner up because they both got rhythm 🎶 Reiner is one of the best dancers (such grace) and he opts for Annie. Mikasa and Armin pair up. Levi and Zeke hate each other but they dance so well together lol. Go wild with this one!

World War II AU. You know that one VJ Day Kiss in Times Square photo that's famous? Yeah that. Imagine your otp.

Gym drama AU: Porco and Pieck work out at the same gym as Eren and Mikasa. (Couples gotta stay fit together ayyy) One fateful day, Eren takes a break between sets and heads to the water fountain, where he thinks Mikasa is taking a sip. All he sees is her black hair pulled back from behind and he's like 'damn is she shorter somehow?' but thinks nothing of it (he's a little loopy from his intense workout) and smacks her on the ass. BUT it's Pieck! Mistaken identity oops! Pieck jolts up and turns around, utterly shocked and Porco hurries over there like 'WTF! Hands off my girl!' Then Mikasa emerges and is like 'Eren, what are you doing???' But Eren, cornered, doubles down despite being in the wrong and is like 'so what? who's gonna stop me?? Fight me!' ^^^this au also works if you replace Eren with Jean, but I feel like Jean would apologize profusely, whereas Eren and Porco would immediately start brawling lmao

Any Zeke x Lara or Zeke x Frieda AU tbh. These ships need more love and are so aesthetically pleasing.

Top Gun AU! Or Air Force, Navy Pilots AU! I prefer the warriors for this one. Reiner as a squad leader. Porco is Pieck's wingman. Etc...

Spy/Assassin AU. Pieck is tasked with taking Eren out but falls in love with him instead. They embark on an epic romantic adventure.

'80s AU!

'90s AU! Anyway, here's Wonderwall!🎶

Kingsman AU: I like Porco and/or Eren for this one.

Bachelorette party AU! Ooohh I have too many ideas for this one!

Birthing class AU. Eren and Historia take a class, accompanied by Zeke and Frieda (the jaeger bros and the reiss sisters ayyyy). I like the idea of porco/pieck taking this class too, and Pieck is just a major goofball throughout the whole thing.

Annie teaches a martial arts class. That's a versatile one. But I was flirting with mik/annie for this one ~~~~

Summer vacation AU: Pieck/Porco plan a couple's getaway, but then Marcel invites himself along, and that means Reiner is going, and then Bert and Annie crash the vacay too.

Dating game show AU: Pieck is a contestant, and her suitors are Porco, Bertolt, Eren, Zeke, and let's throw Levi in there for the lols. Okay, that's a lot. If I think of anything else, I may expand on it. Obviously, I've plugged my own ships in here but feel free to mix it up however you like! Maybe I'll do a holiday edition lol 'tis the season!⛄

[radiantlyrey]

Thoughts on Uprising eps9&10 Scars

Part One

- cold open: well this is all about Dyson from the start, huh? that dude has the pointiest possible chin, I’ve gotta say. also the scan results on his ship “highest security clearance; by sovereign order of Clu” like DAYUM somebody’s top dog, huh???? and why am I not surprised that Tron has a bug on the port scanners specifically for this guy??

- speaking of the port scanners: where the fuck even is Argon? what is the local geography? like there’s a big ocean like thing? and a mountainous snowy area??? the hell??? things I want/need: a map of the whole ass Grid!!!!!! damn!!

- for once our heroes and villains agree: Dyson fuckin sucks. can’t say that I disagree with that assessment; he is a smarmy bastard at the LEAST. love his VA, though; the voice has just the right balance of danger on the one hand, and whine on the other. and meanwhile Tron is……… not handling this well. Obviously. What with the torture and all. That said, Beck’s plan to get Dyson’s disc and spare his life is a good one, which… good for Beck, sometimes his plans kind of suck. Wish Tron was in a mood to actually listen to him, tho….

- flashback 1: okay even here Dyson feels like a bit of a tryhard/sycophant. I do love seeing a bit more of the tensions between Isos and programs. it seems like a really fundamental part of the whole story of the Grid; here are these programs without Users, without makers, without base functions beyond their own existence, and…. they just want to be a part of things. the Grid is their home, too. and programs don’t seem to like that, for the same reason anyone anywhere can be xenophobic. it sucks, but damn does it make for good storytelling. the riot is a mess, as riots usually are, but it’s damn good for story reasons.

- meanwhile at Tron’s place: nicely done on the simulation, Beck, you’re improving all the time!!! sucks that, uh, Tron is……….. not doing well… or trusting you………. and stuff………..

- flashback 2: so Dyson has gone from eager puppy to hardened bigot pretty damn quick, huh?? also nice to see that I have been hitting the mark on anti-Iso sentiments in some of my fics. Clu’s grandstanding on his lightcycle is painfully him, especially with all those Isos around… and then Flynn!!!! good to see you! wish you were a little more understanding about……… everything to do with the Iso-program tensions, tho!! like. for real…….

- then Beck tries to show Tron that he can get Dyson’s disc without having to capture him, and he does a damn good job!! I love that he is sticking to his principles here, good for him. it’s just a shame that Tron is…. not very receptive right now. UGH. PLEASE STOP TRON. I LOVE YOU. PLEASE STOP.

- then as Pavel and Paige are giving Dyson the tour, Dyson twigs on Beck’s trap and is…. a smarmy bastard as usual about it. Beck barely manages to get out unseen. (also I see Dyson using that tracking thing Rinzler uses in Legacy!!! What is up with that!!!!!!!!) love that Pavel is trying to get in Dyson’s good graces while Paige is protecting Tesler’s reputation—very in character for both of them!!

- flashback 3: WELP. love how we see a new perspective on what wasn’t shown in Legacy. also love how Clu has leveraged Dyson’s anger and turned him into an ally. there is that line about perfection, which is unsurprising, it’s Clu. and Clu is following his directive as he sees it, and there is no room for disfigured programs in a perfect system.

- and then Beck goes back to Tron and JESUS FUCK TRON!!!!! FUCK. SHIT. WHAT WAS THAT. HOLY SHIT. WHAT. WHAT. STOPPPPPPP

- (tho Bruce Boxleitner’s delivery of “I don’t need your permission” was fucking BONE-CHILLING. DAMN.)

Part Two

- cold open: Beck sweetie, you’re doing amazing, but the mere fact that Tron isn’t even talking to you is…. a Bad Fuckin Sign. the lightcycle chase here is really well done, though, love action sequences like this. (and they were probably trying to get more action sequences in this episode because the fights are few and far between this episode.)

- love that Tesler et al are (badly) trying to pretend that the Renegade is No Big Deal, though Dyson has cottoned on pretty quickly that the Renegade is a perennial thorn in Tesler’s side. Still, watching them all kind of flail around the facts is mildly hilarious, and I’ll take whatever levity I can get in this episode….

- flashback 4: getting in some psychological torture before the actual torture starts, I see! the programs in tubes thing while they’re repurposed is Creepy as FUCK and I do not like it. and they just put Tron in there to make him watch and it’s awful and I hate it and uGH

- Tron + Beck fight: fdsj;dajk;adgj;dfjk;dgj;kadjk; HELPPPPPPPPPPP THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTINGGGGGGG (AGAIN) (HELP) and poor Beck, he’s trying really hard to make Tron see sense and it’s not working and ugh, poor bb. also this feels like one of those plots that would be solved if everyone sat down and TALKED IT OUT, tho I completely understand why Tron does not want to. like. completely. still tho.

- Paige and Pavel scene: again, grateful for whatever levity I can get here. Paige’s loyalty to Tesler is kind of admirable, whereas Pavel is grasping for whatever straw of power he can find, even if it means deliberate sabotage. thank god Paige isn’t falling for his bullshit. (also Pavel’s “Maybe?” to Paige’s question fuckiin SENT ME, lol)

- flashback 5: buckle up kiddos, it’s time for TORTURE!!!!!! IN A KID’S SHOW!!! THAT THEY RATED FOR FLIPPING SEVEN YEAR OLDS!!!!!! I couldn’t believe it 10 years ago and I can’t believe it now. well….. um. what I want to know is HOW they got THIS past BS&P (aka the Board of Standards and Practices, aka the people who basically say what is and is not appropriate for a given audience). it’s torture. it’s not even disguised or called something else. it isn’t CALLED torture, but it’s torture. Dyson is hurting Tron in an attempt to get him to give in and change sides. it’s torture. the frickin guards outside the door even talk about how “why doesn’t he scream? everyone else does.” like seriously. WHAT THE FUCK. and Dyson destroying Tron’s face is just…….. eeeh. yikes, my guy. maybe stop. maybe you have a complex? about your supposedly perfect fixed face and the injury you got?? maybe STOP????

- Tron + Dyson fight: this was good fucking shit. just well made action, good cuts away to Beck’s dilemma (one edit where it cuts from Beck’s disc to Tron blocking Dyson was SO GOOD I EXCLAIMED ABOUT IT). and then Tron is totally bout to kill a dude, but Beck is there in the background and idk if Tron spots him or not, but fdsajk;dfasj that moment when he drops Dyson was just UGH. GOOD SHIT GOOD SHIT

- flashback 6: HO SHIT CYRUS!!!!!! I DID NOT REALIZE!!!!!!!!!!!! (seriously I only watched up to The Stranger 10 years ago and I don’t think Cyrus was named in that ep??? I can’t remember!!!) saying the same thing as Beck about not letting the revolution die before it gets started!! WHAT!!!!!!!

- the ending: Tesler’s glad Dyson’s gone, so yay for him, I guess? and then Tron FINALLY apologizes to Beck (doesn’t tell him shit, as usual, but I’ll take an apology) which made me feel good, and then—

- the coda: Dyson returns to Clu with a message: TRON LIVES. and just casually derezzes a guard so no one else knows. and UGHHHH WHAT MIGHT HAVE COME OF THIS!!!!!! I haven’t even finished the show and I am upset there was never a second season!!!! UGHHHHH

in conclusion:

THIS WAS GOOD SHIT. EASILY THE BEST EPS SO FAR. MY GOD. 1000000/10 WOULD WATCH AND FEEL ALL THE EMOTIONS AGAIN.

[ikjun]

you said hoshi's top 2 dancers in his gen i'm curious who you think is n1? also who you think are the best industry overall (im nosy)

the only person in their particular gen that i'd put before hoshi is ten, solely because ten has a wider technical background that includes contemporary and even in parts ballet. overall ten and hoshi are the pinnacle of their generation of male dancers, to me anyway. i once talked to a friend about it and with them both it's like when they dance it is so technically precise that it looks exactly how a choreographer or teacher wants the moves to look, but you can still immediately tell it's them performing. that is the perfect balance you need to strike to be at the top and stay there.

can't deny that rain basically started the whole trend of making dancing such a big part of kpop and making it look good. then came u-know yunho, taemin, kai, lay, gikwang, and j-hope in one fell swoop back to back. shownu is also up there though people constantly forget about him, but there's a reason he's been a judge on a dance competition show. not too many came after them that are still on that level. rarely anyone is, it's usually just inflated posing during centre moments whereas the dancing falls off in technique and stage presence right after. that is performing, not dancing.

people like to say 4th gen has some outstanding dancers, but the last bg member who was a really good, and i mean advanced technical know-how and stage prowess, was probably yugyeom, then maybe hyunjin as well. you got to give it to jyp, they've got a bunch of solid performers. lots of nothingness afterwards overall. even good 4th gen dancers are not on the level of their predecessors. if you see polls that rank any nct member that isn't ten above hoshi or showhu or anyone of the 2nd gen, just assume that poll is fan-biased lmao. taeyong may have been up on this list if you'd ask me two years ago, but he stagnated much more than ten bc of his injuries. such is life as a professional dancer - he won't be the first nor the last. most sm dancers (kai and taeyong especially, taemin had his issues too) will decline further with age due to sm's blatant blind-eye to dance-related injuries and chronic pain, which is a damn shame and pisses me off.

when you look at ggs and female soloists, the unanimous opinion has lisa, chungha, momo, boa, seulgi, minzy, yooa, and of course hyoyeon. gotta say i would agree with that assessment, especially for hyoyeon and chungha, who remain really on top of their craft. i also have been keeping an eye on yeji from itzy and you can really see how much she shines on stage when she dances. many people also mention mamamoo as a group but i'm not into them so i can't give my opinion on that! honestly, with female dancers they usually are the ones that also manage a solo career after or while being in a group and are quite popular, and for once i can't fault the public of kpop fans for it. if a woman dances well, little beats it for me either. i absolutely love watching dancers like seulgi or hyoyeon or lisa when they have choreos they can sink their teeth into. just too good.

[dream-meister-translations]

DREAM MEISTER & THE RECOLLECTED BLACK FAIRY

OUTSIDE HOLIDAY - PART 6  

━

ELMA : Emma-chan! Next up, the Violet Fizz, please!

EMMA : Coming right up!

YAMANE : ...!! Ah, the Violet Fizz cocktail, I've heard of that before. It's said that after giving this cocktail to a lover, the man disappears never to be heard from again. Being by Elma's side brings forth so many tragic emotions! 

ELMA : Yama-chan, are you writing something again?

EMMA : As always, he refuses to show us what he's writing, though.

EMMA : Another Violet Fizz, please. 

ELMA : I'll be right back with that drink! 

EMMA : (Elma. Searle, and I spent the afternoon working at the amusement park, and now we are spending our evening bartending at the restaurant nearby.)

EMMA : (It's insanely busy, but the hourly wage is good. And the tips are nice.)

SEARLE : The fresh tomato salad is ready! 

EMMA : Thank you, Searle! When Elma gets back with the drink, I'll have him bring it over. 

STELLA : Next prepare the pasta with chopped vegetables, Searle. Remember to serve it with the salad next time. Serving each dish separately isn't optimal for the restaurant.

SEARLE : Got it, got it!

As Searle cheerfully responded, I noticed a group of new customers entering the restaurant. 

ELMA : Welcome! Oh hey, it's you, Daste! 

DASTE : The hell!? You guys are everywhere!

SCAR : It's our friends! We run into them a lot! 

ELMA : Well, that's probably 'cause it's not a very big island. Anyway, let me guide you to the bar! 

DASTE : Just give me some random drink, I don't care.

EMMA : How about some Lager? It's something you can only get at this restaurant. 

DASTE : Yeah, whatever.

While I prepared the chilled beer, Daste stood awkwardly. Glancing around the restaurant.

FEMALE CUSTOMER : Hey, bartender! Any recommended cocktails?

ELMA : We've got a limited time cocktail that's only served here! It looks suuuper cute! 

MALE CUSTOMER : Bro, bring me something good! 

ELMA : Alrighty~! I'll be right back! 

EMMA : (As expected of Elma, he's popular with both the men and women.) 

DASTE : He really stands out, huh?

EMMA : Elma? Yeah, he has a vibrant personality that makes him the center of attention. His smile is so bright it makes everyone else━

MALE VOICE : Hey, don't fuckin' touch me!

FEMALE VOICE : Hey, stop it!!

EMMA & ELMA : !!

Startled by the noise, we all glanced in the direction of the loud voices. It appeared to be a couple arguing nearby. A rugged-looking man was forcefully pushing away a small woman who was clinging to his arm. 

EMMA : (That tattoo on the man's right arm...)

YAMANE : The scent of tragic love!!

SCAR : Is this what they call a lovers' spat~?

EMMA : I'll go check it out.

DASTE : Seriously? Just leave 'em to it.

Leaving the indifferent Daste behind, I headed towards the arguing couple. 

FEMALE VOICE : I told you I won't put up with this anymore!! How could you do this again!?

MALE VOICE : Shut the fuck up! It's none of your business! Get your filthy hands off of me!

FEMALE VOICE : Ahhhh!!

EMMA : This isn't good!!

Just as the woman was about to fall into the nearby pool, I instinctively grabbed for her arm, but the momentum caused me to lose my balance too and-

ELMA : Careful now! 

Elma had rushed across the restaurant and caught me before I fell into the pool. 

EMMA : Thanks, Elma. 

ELMA : No prob!

MALE VOICE : Hey! Who the hell are you!?

ELMA : Sir, I think you need to cool off a bit.

MALE VOICE : Don't stick your nose into this or I'll knock you the fuck out!

ELMA : !!

The enraged man pulled back his arm and swung his fist toward Elma's face━

MALE VOICE : What!? You bastard!!!

DASTE : Oops~ My foot slipped.

ELMA : Daste!!

DASTE : You should watch out when I kick a guy next time! You almost got kicked too, damn it!

EMMA : We need medical assistance!!

ELMA : Uh, Daste... You went a little overboard, don'tcha think?

DASTE : What do ya mean?

FEMALE VOICE : Thank you so much for stopping him! He was about to do something really bad, I just know it!

DASTE : Hah. Don't gotta thank me for putting that asshole in his place. Instead of crying like a bitch, you should learn how to throw a punch.

FEMALE VOICE : ...I...Understand...

ELMA : I wonder~ Is Daste the type of guy who looks all tough on the outside, but is secretly a big softie inside~? In that case, you're my friend Daste! Let's toast to tonight! 

DASTE : The hell're you talkin' about? Ugh. I guess a drink wouldn't hurt...

As the medical staff promptly arrived to assess the man's injuries, I breathed a sigh of relief.

[ardinwriter]

A week ago I was in Ashland, Oregon, US for the Oregon Shakespeare Festival (osfashland.org) and saw their productions for Macbeth and Much Ado About Nothing.

Their Much Ado was a bit on the camp side of things, but they were consistent with it and the actors were very good, so it worked out.

Their Macbeth wasn't, for me, as good a production as I've seen from them in the past or, in fact, from other companies either. Their Lady Macbeth was spectacular, but their Macbeth was a little flat at times and his descent into madness too abrupt/lacking nuance, which drew me out of the production. I also struggled with the costuming choices, but that's a whole different thing.

But it got me thinking about what was necessary for a really good production of a very complicated show to do well.

I've probably seen about 20 different versions of the show (including 4 that I've been stage manager or set crew for) and I think for me it comes down to 4 major elements. Everything is important, of course, but these are the things that really make or break a production for me.

Actor playing Macbeth: This is a hard role. You genuinely have to believe that this is a man who dreams of nothing more than serving his king until he hears the prophecy and then is driven to unbelievable lengths of action and paranoia by the witches words and his wife's ambitions. That's a fine line to walk. As is the decent into madness.

Actor playing Lady Macbeth: Another fine line for an actor to walk because it has to balance the ambition of the character against her obvious love for several of the characters around her, particularly Macbeth himself. Too many productions play her as unfeeling towards him, using him only for what he can get her, but I think that painting her a pure villain makes it too difficult for us to care as she descends into madness herself.

The pacing: I've seen productions make this weird in a bunch of different ways: rushing the witches, overdrawing the 'out damn spot' bit, prolonging the fight sequences, etc. I'm not sure that I could put into words exactly how I'd want the pacing to go, but I know it can screw with a show if done badly.

The witches: The casting here of course matters, but the main thing I've seen go wrong with the witches is when the director doesn't choose a set narrative for them. Are they malevolent, deliberately sowing chaos and turmoil? Are they manipulative, controlling things for a deliberate outcome? Are they simple prophets, speaking what they know without stake in the outcome? Their lines in the play can be interpreted a LOT of ways, but a director needs to choose and stick with it. They can't be both prophetic bystanders and malevolent, you gotta choose. (Side bar: the best version of the witches I've ever seen went full manipulative, to the point of having them on a higher level than the main cast during the death sequences with marionette control bars and strings and then with back lighting onto a scrim, so the audience just sees the shadow play for it. Absolutely brilliant)

I don't know why I'm writing all this out or who would care, but it's been going through my mind since I saw the show and I'd love to know what other people think.

[copinghex]

I'm a bit nervous, there's a while I don't do this

The first paragraphs were so gripping!! Heaven's pain and how Arthur's support is almost not enough to soothe her. I can't wait to see how John's death will affect the relationship bc it clearly hits a nerve on both of them!!

“Hey Pol’!" You cheered, a wicker basket filled with pastries dangling at your wrist, "I've brought some croissants and éclairs. Thought it could help put up with today's meeting."

Her greeting is so cute, I was yearning for more of my mystic girls and got hit by Tommy, I had forgotten how much I despised him here 🙄

Shark, the Tommy x Heaven scene struck a cord towards an aspect of him I never talked about: his selfishness

There's something in the way (non Nirvana pun intended) he shares an unbreakable bound with Arthur and how (at least in canon, I'm not sure how things will play along in HYE, especially if Arthur finds out about Tommy's attraction to his wife) they seem unable to live without the other, but at the same time that's not enough to make T fully respect A and I suppose it makes sense if I use the You're the oldest brother and wasn't able to fulfill the role so I had to take the reins motivation

However, trying to woo Heaven speaks much louder. T """"respected"""" Linda because she kept A """on the line""" and he is a logical creature (sometimes lol) it'd make more sense to keep peace with her and find a balance. Him choosing not to makes me think the same I did when he married Grace despite all the pain she caused to Ada and Danny, when it comes to matters of the heart, Tommy will do whatever he thinks is better for him, it doesn't matter how many people he'll hurt

Anyways... I had this whole thought process and in this next scene I was like-

All you wished was to protect your man and show the world that they better fear Arthur Shelby's wife as much as him if it isn't more.

Slaay!! 💅💅

And the smut, it was so sexy then they started to have a full conversation in the middle lol, it speaks volumes about the intimacy they share, I gotta love them 🤭

Now, songs!! At this point I can't remember what I recommend so I apologize if I already said one of those

Oh my dear lord by The unlikely candidates for Heaven not catching a damn break, like pleeease, she just wants to be left alone and live in peace with her man 🙏🏽

My gun Tove Lo has seductive vibes I think fit her well

Pacifier by Catfish and the Bottleman for Tommy x Heaven because I still can't believe what fcking idiot he is

Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC

Summary:  Running from your past doesn’t work anymore now that you’ve been directly involved in the Vendetta. Between violence, threats and schemes, you understand that you will only retrieve your peaceful haven with Arthur if you get out of this war with blood under your nails. featuring Tommy Shelby x Reader

Words: 7.5k

TW: alteration of canon events, canonical violence, graphic depiction of murder, SMUT +18, hint at gunplay, cockwarming, piv, non-protected , obsessive love, extreme co-dependent relationship. They are sincerely deranged, sorry about that. No proofreading, we die like men.

Notes:

✞ This is the last quiet chapter of Act II, shit will start to get real in the next part. Also, the smut is just a part of the chapter, not the entire thing.

✞ This is chapter 14 of the Arthur Shelby x You series Heaven in Your Eyes. Each chapter can be read as stand-alone but reading the whole series will make the experience far more intense.

PREVIOUS || Masterlist || NEXT PART

The crackling symphony of burning wood whispered to the stillness, each pop and hiss forming the melody of a sorrowful farewell to John Shelby. Amidst the flickering glow you emerged, your white hair cascading like a waterfall of moonlight around your shoulders to the small of your back. The firelight waltzed upon your features, bringing up the mesmerizing interplay of diamond dust and frost that composed you.

How many more?

The question flashed in your thoughts, leaving a trail of caustic soda that scorched your skull from the inside. How many more of your loved ones should you see burn, their flesh eaten by a voracious fire, until God decided He had enough fun tormenting you? Two faint dimples appeared on your cheeks as you gritted your teeth, the cold winter wind blowing at the black veils of your long and seductive black dress that floated elegantly behind you like the sinister drapes of the Reaper's cloak. In utter silence, Arthur lowkey shifted his focus from the vardo to you with concern and, taking notice of the destructive sparkle in your eyes, pulled you closer. The sensation might have been comforting but your body didn’t answer to his affection, remaining limp and disconnected. To be completely honest, you were feeling so physically and emotionally cold that you would have believed you were made of frost if his coat, which was resting over your shoulders, and his comforting hand, that was on your lower back, weren't there to offer you a bit of warmth.

As the scent of Arthur's reassuring cologne kept you anchored to reality, you finally woke up from your gluey negativity and instinctively nestled against your husband, who placed a discreet and tender kiss on the corner of your lips. The familiar ticking of his facial hairs on your skin sent a wave of comfort through your soul and reminded you that, despite everything that had been going on between the two of you lately, he had been, still was, and will always be your only saving grace. You wondered if, maybe, it was time for you to go back home. Not that his betrayal had been forgotten or forgiven, but you needed him more than ever. For a shit ton of reasons.

“You’re frozen, angel. You sure you wanna stay hm?” He whispered, the tender gravel in his voice clearing your morbid contemplation of the burning vardo, which brought to your mind the sickening memories of your mother and little sister burning at the stake. A long exhale escaped from your fleshy lips as you tried to keep the demons of your past on a leash — and ignore a sudden wave of nausea.

“I’m not going anywhere. If John is burning I might as well freeze.” Your reply was a bit blunter than intended, but Arthur got it. The way you watched the flames climb higher and higher left no doubt about the devastating anger raging inside. They will pay, you silently swore to John, convinced he could hear you from where he was. If bringing him back was out of your abilities, at least you could avenge him by bringing upon every single man who plotted his death a demise worse than death. Just like Thomas Shelby, they would soon know how much pain you could inflict with your tiny and delicate hands, the holiness of your appearance being nothing more than a facade to mask the methodical killer you were. To hell with the promise of not killing again, having blood on your hands seemed to be the price to pay for Arthur and his love. While you lost yourself in the meanders of your thoughts, the cacophonic detonations of gunshots roared in the quiet meadow.

You had barely heard them when, with movements nimble and quick, you pushed Arthur to the ground and stood still to protect him in a reflex you couldn’t fight. The booming sounds might have been loud, they didn’t made you flinch. Quite the contrary, your aquamarine eyes stared at the horizon in search of the slightest threat, just in case the shots fired hadn’t come from the Gold. For a very short while you had been the only one standing, all the Shelby clan on the ground with hands covering their head. Even Tommy, who had schemed the attack, played the safety card and remained covered just the time to make sure the shootings came from their side.

"For fuck's sake, Heaven." Arthur barked at you as he stood up on his long legs, ignoring Tommy in the background who was keeping everyone under his control by yelling. The lanky gangster's hand grabbed your fragile wrist firmly and pulled you closer to him again, steel blue eyes glowing with disapproval at your reckless behavior.

"That was Thomas’ plan right?” You simply replied, your reliable source of information being Aberama and Bonnie themselves -- it was a part of the many perks of living with them in the nearby woods.

“Come on, Angel! A plan ain't going to be always working ay. It could have been the Ital—“ The oldest Shelby brother, with his thick brows furrowed, could not finish his sentence for you hushed him by cupping his face with your freezing little hands. Falling silent, the wolf turned into a lamb as you gently pressed his cheeks, forcing him to look at you.

"Chéri." You started, the pink tip of your tongue moistening your enchanting lips. Each of your movements seemed to bewitch him, to the extent that he almost forgot why he had been that irked, the inferno of his rage instantly cooling down, "I am fine see?” Despite the softness of your voice, he could sense a bit of impatience in your steady tone. Without leaving any time for questions or protests, you laid a small kiss on his cold lips, "We are fine." The melody of your voice was merely a whisper that vanished in the howling wind when your winter lips met his a second time for a deeper kiss. Soft and glossy flesh against rough one. A wild storm of happiness coursed through Arthur at the sensation of this long-awaited mark of affection tingling on his skin, and electrifying his heart. A rapture so strong that the world blurred around him for a moment — he would have probably slipped his tongue in your mouth if the moment wasn't inappropriate. When you pulled back from him, your lips curled in a faint but sincere smile before you squished his scruffy cheeks and released his face from your cold grip. After three years together, it was only at this very moment that Arthur understood that he wasn’t the true guardian and fellow protector of the couple. You were.

Fiercer. Crazier. And certainly far more dangerous.

"Put us out there on purpose... To use John's funeral fire as a fucking beacon!" Aunt Polly's outraged and trembling voice erupted from behind, her words stabbing Tommy like red-hot daggers. If they hurt, he didn’t let it show though. Forced to part from you before his brother and aunt went for each other’s throat, Arthur intervened.

"We were never in any danger, Polly."

"You set a trap. You set a trap with us as fucking bait." She blurted out, standing from her chair and walking to Tommy with steps so furious you were pretty sure she was going to plow into him. Indignation was radiating off her, her dark eyes wishing they had the power to kill. If it had been the case little King Shelby would have been already lying in a pool of his own blood, "Who's dead?!"

After his younger brother had tried to explain to the old harpy that the victims were two Italians, Arthur went on, "We got word to them about the funeral, the where, the when… Told them where to stand for the best shot."

"And Aberama Gold will do the rest." Tommy completed his brother's sentence as if he was an extension of himself — which was the case, you reckoned, when he wasn't busy criticizing you for breathing. From then, the voices only escalated, trying to overcome one another and win the argument by screaming louder than the other until someone eventually gave up. Which was a miracle that would never happen since we were talking about Tommy and Polly. Both of them were two equally stubborn mutts fighting for the same bone and how this argument ended had been predictable: The fierce aunt left, Hell shaking under her heels.

Now was the perfect opportunity to talk.

"Arthur," Your divine voice hailing him, resounding in the meadow like a haunting siren’s song, its unsettling melody sending shivers down Ada's spine. She glanced at you and, for a quick second, the memory of you covered with blood flashed in her mind. Years had passed since you murdered Father’s Hughes accomplice with a pair of scissors but she still couldn't forget what happened back then. She wouldn’t admit it but her trust in you had never been the same from this moment.

Snatched from his thoughts, Arthur turned around, frowning. The family argument had soured his mood.

"Hm?"

"Now I wanna leave." You stated, your seraphic tone as sharp as the razor blades in your man’s cap. This hostility wasn’t aimed at him though, but at Tommy for you had pronounced these four words while glaring at him, indescribable hatred burning in your frozen iris. You might have been aware of the plan, it didn’t mean you agreed with it: the idea of using John’s funeral still infuriated you but your mourning soul hadn’t the strength to fight it. "I'm going home.” Arthur's heart missed a beat, afraid of seeing you disappear again in the depths of the woods. It had been one hell of a harsh week without you and while he — hardly — understood that you needed space, his patience was growing thin, worn out by jealousy and overwhelming dependence. After all, if Aberama was a thief, why wouldn’t he steal his most precious treasure? Or worse, he’s son. Younger, healthier and so much more handsome than him, he thought with gritted teeth and hateful eyes.

"Oh yeah? " Coming closer, Arthur tried his best not to let his murderous jealousy talk and, instead, took a long black key from the pocket of his dark duffle coat "Home ain't with the Gold. Home's—"

"57 Watery Lane. I go there, lock the door and wait for my husband. S'that what you wanted to say?" You suggested, one eyebrow raised and your pale eyes staring at him like two fathomless and cursed jewels. Arthur swallowed nervously, the intense eye contact feeling like an eternity. Besides immediate regrets, the reason for his silence was that he was convinced he messed up again, judging by your sudden cold demeanor. So, afraid you’d lash out at him for his sudden jealousy, all he did was nod and try to keep his composure in front of everyone to pretend he was the one in charge. But you knew him too well not to recognize the sadness in his beautiful but vacant steel-blue eyes. You knew exactly what was going on in his head: he was expecting you to reject him in front of everyone, just like Linda used to do. “Alright” You articulated, and yet your reaction was the strict opposite of what he thought you’d do. Bringing your hand to his, you gave it a gentle squeeze before taking the key, "That’s the home I was talking about, love." You added, your glossy lips curling in a faint but oh-so-reassuring smile that made him swoon with indescribable fascination. Punctuating your sentence with a little wink, you finally turned your heels and left the meadow, your walk as elegant and confident as a fearsome lioness coming back from the hunt.

A predatory and frightful confidence that disappeared as soon as you reached your house. You had barely heard the sound of the door closing when, sick in the stomach, you rushed to the toilets and dropped on your knees to throw up.

"Fuck..." The curse escaped from your trembling lips as you quickly wiped them with a towel, tears beading at the corner of your aquamarine eyes. Polly was right: you did know when to pick your moment. As strong as you were, you had trouble coping with the news of your unexpected pregnancy. So much trouble that you couldn’t rejoice and that lack of enthusiasm only added a layer of guilt to your restless mind. “Fuck!” You snarled, teeth bared. Fuck you, them, all, and everything.

The sound of your platform boots' sharp heels echoed in the sanitized corridors of the hospital as you headed towards Michael's bedroom, your hips elegantly swinging to the rhythm of the silent savage drums of your heart. Tommy had called another lengthy and boring meeting to discuss both the Shelby Company Limited's new installments and the Vendetta, and as well as you dreaded his presence you had to be a part of it now that you were a Shelby. Moreover, the whole mess got even more problematic since Luca Changretta had managed to find a way to break into the Shelby factory and directly talk to his turquoise-eyed opponent for the sole pleasure of seeing a sparkle of panic in his eyes when he threatened to kill the rest of his family.

Surprising as it may sound considering your deep resentment for Tommy's long speeches and the man himself, you arrived pretty early. Not for him, but for Polly Gray. By coming earlier, you knew you'd have a bit of time to talk privately with her about the baby, for she had been the one discovering your secret pregnancy. “Hey Pol’!" You cheered, a wicker basket filled with pastries dangling at your wrist, "I've brought some croissants and éclairs. Thought it could help put up with today's meeting." The bright smile you bore soon vanished from your plumped lips when your winter eyes met with the dark silhouette of your brother-in-law, standing in front of you with his calloused hands in his pockets and his cold gaze staring at your angelic complexions with an unfathomable look. Turning into ice again, your small hand immediately reached for the door handle.

"Stay. We have to talk." He stated, his tone cool and composed. As much as he wanted his sentence not to sound like an order, he ultimately failed. As he talked, all the muscles in your body tense and you felt already irked by his presence.

"Don't." You snarled, your crystalline eyes squinting when they shot him a lethal glare, "Don't fucking come any closer." The sour and threatening expression on your face had been enough to stop Tommy. He was now clenching his perfectly carved jaw. Admittedly, he had never particularly cared about your personal space, invading it on every occasion he could just to push you to your limits and make you feel cornered, but since he had a taste of the ghastly and inhumane gift you had he'd rather be cautious.

"Alright," He said, pinching the bridge of his nose before rolling his eyes and moistening his lips in a surprisingly effusive pout. "No need to be that aggressive eh. Please have a sit." He instructed then, indicating a chair with a brief gesture of the hand.

"I ain't gonna sit. Polly tricked me.” You gritted through your teeth, spiteful at the thought of her betrayal. Your voice echoed through the room like sharp shards of frost falling from a winter sky. "You both knew that I didn't want to be left alone in a room with you anymore and still you schemed this twisted little plan." The cadence of your speech, though measured, carried an Arctic chill that made Tommy shiver. Even with the short distance that separated you, he could almost feel the ice you were made of burning his skin through the many layers of his expensive three-piece suit. In fact, you might be calm but Tommy could still feel the rumble of the storm hidden in that soft and enchanting lilt of yours.

"No one tricked you, and yes, indeed, I knew it. That's why Polly will be here with us. She's coming in any minute. Feel better now? Can you fucking sit?" Your only reply was a mocking snort that was quick to stir anger in Tommy's heart despite the placid expression etched on his face. But no matter how fine and cold the marble he was carved from was, you could see the tumultuous current beneath it. Maybe that was one of the main reasons why he hated you: no matter how hard he tried, you always managed to get under his skin and make him falter.

Silent fell in the hospital room, the two of you staring stonily at each other as you both attempted to decipher the opponent's intentions. "Seriously," Tommy was the first to move, coming nearer despite your warning — part of him did it only to prove to himself that he wasn't afraid of you. As he approached, your sharp sense heard the faint sound of his heart beating slightly quicker than usual and his breath struggling to keep quiet. Closer he came, until he stood only inches away from you, the warmth of his body brushing your skin without even touching it, and the musky scents of his cologne ticking your nostrils. " I meant it you know ay. I meant it when I said we have to end this war between us," You remained motionless, eyes staring at him, "Shut the door on it". In the hushed ambiance of the bedroom, he started to move around you with a gait that mirrored the stealthy elegance of a beast navigating its territory. His steps were a silent predatory waltz, a calculated and deliberate one that could have been dizzying if he wasn't walking around you this slowly, "At least temporarily." The air seemed to ripple with a subtle tension as he circled you like a panther, hiding his fear of you behind an aura of primal confidence, "I'm sure we could both benefit from it, ain't that the truth." You slowly exhaled as he talked, realizing you've been holding your breath for a while.

"What about backing off me and shutting your mouth until Polly comes?" You whispered, your aquamarine eyes carefully following every step he took. Admittedly, there was an undeniable magnetism in the way he moved, almost too smoothly and captivating to be human. In a primal reflex, your lips curled and you showed your pearly teeth. Beneath the shared expanse of your untamed wilderness, a silent battle waged within, as his large and strong hand delicately found rest upon your arm. The skin-to-skin contact sent an unpleasant thrill through your body. Tommy was like a big cat facing another one, testing the waters and carefully studying the line he shouldn't cross for you to snap. All in all, it was a contest whose goal was not to be the first to shy away. His fingers ghosted over your arms, trailing down your skin with an unsettling tenderness. Unwilling to cause another scandal or murder him, you gathered all your willpower not to react even when he leaned above you, looking down at your seraphic traits with curiosity gleaming in his turquoise eyes, "How did it feel when we kissed?" His words, like tempestuous whispers, stirred a sudden symphony of panic and indignation within. "Because you've... Felt."

"I did." You finally admitted, tearing through the silence you've been walling yourself in. All the ice melted in a few seconds, and your face relaxed a little bit. Two hopeful details that ignited both Tommy's gaze and ego -- of course you did, he thought.

"Look at me." His voice turned a bit softer as you slowly raised your gaze to his face.

"Do you really need me to say it out loud, Tom?" As you inched dangerously closer to him, he heard the ambient sounds of the crowded hospital fade into a distant murmur

"I do." The drumming of his heart fastened as a faint smile toyed on your lips. The proximity of your mouth, bewitchingly close yet not quite touching, was killing him. Let alone the brush of your skin under his fingertips and the shared warmth of your breaths mingling in the same intimate airspace. How beautiful you would be together. How fierce. How... Unstoppable. That was all he could think of.

"Disgust." It fell from your mouth with the softness of a chainsaw blade cutting through his guts. Tommy's eyes widened, his ego crashing on the ground and shattering like a broken mirror. He didn't react at first, confused by your harsh words, which contrasted with your angelic smile, "I felt disgusted." You tilted your head to the side, your face turning into winter again, "Now you better move from the way if you don’t want me to crush your lungs."

Tommy was about to back off in terror when he saw you moving your fingers in that peculiar way he was too familiar with.

"Sorry for being late." Polly's voice erupted in the room, saving you from spending another minute alone with Tommy. God blessed her.

"Let me help you with that." He finally said, trying his best to keep his composure at the realization that he would never be able to predict you. Never be able to control nor to own you. His fingers closed on the basket’s handle, right above your reddened wrist, and they lifted it to relieve your frail arm from the pain before he quickly stepped away from you.

"Alright, glad to see the two of you didn't butcher each other in my absence. What a wonderful improvement."

"An improvement that is." Tommy replied, pressing his palms against the table now that he had put the basket on its wooden surface.

" I was talking with the doctor about Michael's health. We have a very short time left: he's almost done with him, and both Ada and Lizzie are coming. Heaven, dear, what about Arthur?" Polly inquired, her black eyes meeting yours.

"He's still in his office at the Shelby factory. But I must admit I thought that it would be only you and me." You stated resentfully.

"I know, love and I'm sorry about it but you wouldn't have come if I told you that Tommy was here." Her cold and sly hand gently squeezed your arm in a gentle gesture, so soft and full of motherly love that you couldn't really blame her anymore. Taking a quick look at the clock on the wall, you sighed and took place on a chair just like Polly did.

"Hurry up. Tell me what's about."

"Ain't going to keep you waiting,” Tom started and went straight to the point, motivated by the desire to see you leave this room as soon as possible, “ I want you to meet Luca Changretta."

"Thomas!" You exclaimed.

"No. You listen to me now," The gangster replied, pointing at you with his index finger, "As you know I've encountered him in the meeting room of the Shelby Company factory. We came to an agreement that stipulates that women and children shouldn't be included in the Vendetta. With that, we can guarantee a certain safety for you, Polly, Ada, Finn, and the kids."

"How... Quaint." You stated, pursing your lips in a bratty pout, "And what's the link between your deal and me potentially meeting the man who wants to see my husband dead?"

"Considering this, one of the women of this family can approach him. The idea was that Polly could meet with him and ask him to spare the family, especially Michael. In return, she would lure me into a specific place and at a specific time so that this bastard can set an ambush and kill me." As Tommy explained the original plan, you side-eyed Polly who nodded at each sentence in an attempt to reassure you.

"The problem is Luca knows the strong bond I have with my nephews. Even if I use the role of the mother ready to do everything to save her son, I fear it won't be enough to convince him. But you..." She left her sentence hanging, Tommy's raspy voice completing it. Shelbys, you swore. Sometimes you wondered if they had some telepathic shit going on between them.

"You despise me as much as Luca does but still bore the name Shelby. You'd be perfect." His gaze almost burnt you.

"Makes sense." You replied, fingers playing nervously with your dress' fabric under the table as you swallowed all the information just heard. Against all odds, his idea was impressively clever — Tommy might have a plethora of flaws but stupidity wasn’t one of them.

"Polly will help you arrange a meeting with him in a club. You talk with him, explain how you do this to save your husband, and if he asks more questions proceed with talking about our relationship." Now that they had finished revealing their plan, Tommy and his aunt were both staring at you, impatiently waiting for your answer.

"Well, I've heard enough." You simply said, getting up from your chair and making your way to the bedroom's door under the two pairs of confused eyes. Once you reached it, you grabbed the handle and watched them from above your shoulder, an amused but sharp grin dancing on your lips. "When Apocalypse comes, it seems like even Thomas Shelby wants the Devil on his team." You teased, entertained by the situation. No matter his neutral demeanor, he needed you. And that was a satisfying feeling. "That's fine with me." Your quick agreement was certainly not something Tommy and Polly expected, judging by the way they looked at you, and then at each other to make sure they heard well. But as illogical as it seemed, the reasons behind your will to get involved in the Vendetta were a matter of course: You were sick of playing the nice and fragile wife who nervously waited for her husband. You didn't come all the way back to Birmingham to be a quiet and patient little thing. You came to make them all shatter and shake at your fingertips. All you wished was to protect your man and show the world that they better fear Arthur Shelby's wife as much as him if it isn't more.

Polly followed on your heels when you opened the door, grabbing your arm and leading you outside.

"The hell you're doing?" You inquired, surprised by her sudden strength.

"One last thing. I need you to keep Arthur busy and to make him come too late for the meeting." The fierce aunt's grip closed a bit firmer around your wrist, making you wince.

"Why that ay? He has every right to attend it. He's the vice president deputy of that company as well as the oldest brother." If there was one thing Polly expected, it was you defending your husband tooth and nail. And yet she had many tricks in her sleeve.

"We don't want him to pull the trigger anymore. It's time for him to delegate and stay out of the battlefield. We didn't climb the social ladder this high to keep dirtying our hands."

Polly's speech made you blink, astonished one could scheme behind a family member's back. "Hey, that's freaking unfair for Art. You have to discuss the matter with him, it's his job we're talking. Ouch!" You whimpered when she squeezed you harder, her eyes begging you to listen.

"Think about the baby! It will need its father! We don't want him in danger any longer so please, please keep him busy just like we, women, know how to do. It's the modern approach, White Devil."

"Modern approach. Of course.”

"Oh, Angel." Arthur said, his gravel voice underlined with a light surprise when he saw you entering his office. He was putting on his long black coat, ready to leave for the family meeting. As soon as his piercing blue eyes landed on your delicate frame he walked towards you, "Why you here? You alright? " He immediately inquired, his protective nature had grown far bigger since you'd joined him in this cursed city. The soft glow of affection shone in your eyes as you looked at him, your glossy and plump lips greeting him with a bestowed smile so sweet and radiant with love that the hurricane of worries in Arthur's skull hushed down.

"Everything's alright!" You hung your coat on a hook.

"Ain't it good news, ay." He cheered despite being in a hurry, before putting his large and rough hands on your forearms with an adorable bluntness so specific to him and rubbing them to warm your skin up, "Well look, lovely to see you but I'm late for a meeting."

"Just five minutes." You asked, coming closer until your breasts flattened against his chest, "Five teeny-tiny minutes, please?" The way your eyebrows raised and your mouth pouted enlightened your angelic face with an irresistible bratty look that never failed to get him on his knees. Arthur quickly moistened his lips while weighing the pros and cons, but it didn't take long for him to make up his mind. Especially when gazing upon that woman-child face of yours.

"Alright, alright." His raspy voice blurted out. Arthur brought his fingers in your hair to slip one of your long white locks behind your ear with an indescribable tenderness. "Needy little thing already missed her husband eh?" He cooed with amusement, his strict facial traits melting as he talked to you, tamed by your presence.

"I did.” You purred with a quick but oh-so-sincere smile, “But I also need to talk to you. Sit, please?” You suggested, the amusement of your tone brightening up his dull day. Joining motion to speech, you gently pushed him back with your two index fingers pressed on his chest. Arthur followed your movements, a bewitched smirk etched on his mouth. Just like your own reflection, each time you took a step forth he took one back until the back of his knees bumped against the desk chair. Enthralled and with lust-dilated pupils, his eyes spoke a love that transcended words. Arthur’s body finally dropped on the chair, and if he was already focused on nothing else but you, the whole universe faded into utter insignificance when you sat on his lap, straddling him. The contact between your two hips ignited a vivid desire within, which spread through his bones like wildfire and got a satisfied “hum” from him.

“What it is ye want to say?” Arthur asked, the hoarseness of his voice carrying a softness no one suspected him to hide. Despite everything you’ve been through lately, including the indescribable disappointment due to his drug relapse, you had allowed your relationship to slowly heal. You had been crystal clear, now the ball was in his court. Arthur was obviously still on trial, well aware that he needed to outperform himself to gain your precious trust back but at least you came home right after John’s funeral, and that was all that mattered.

A very short but comfortable silence floated over the room at his question, your reply taking the form of your fingers losing themselves in his slicked-back hair, massaging his head.

“Are you really in a rush?” Your voice, a delicate dance of enchantment and teasing, wove through the air and left Arthur even more captivated than he already was while you relished on every little adorable of his face — his myriad freckles were surely one of your favorite features of him. Finally, a long exhale escaped from your nostrils. How much you would have loved to stay locked up here with him forever, just you, him, and the baby, far away from this cruel world… “Peu importe ce qui se passe tu sais que je serai toujours à tes côtés, n'est-ce pas?” (translation: No matter what happens you know I'll always stand by your side, don't you?)

"I know." He replied in English. The sensation of your fingertips applying the perfect pressure on his head combined with your haunting French got him definitely wrapped around your finger. The lanky gangster was at the very edge of purring, his eyes half-closed and his piercing and intoxicated iris looking at you through his dark lashes.

As he enjoyed your massage, Arthur made the most of your proximity and let his palms wander on your dainty body, unable to keep them off you. In truth, it was nearly impossible for him not to become all handsy when you were around, no matter the where and the when. His rough hands roamed all over your being, invading every part of you. He was everywhere, softly kneading your small breasts, then trailing down your ribs to finally end his exploration on your hips he seized more firmly, almost bruising them in the process “I must say ya one hell of a cruel witch, love. You come here all hot and bratty.” He cooed, the gravel in his voice rumbling. It was so low, so powerful that it didn’t even sound like a voice but a feeling. His peculiar tone was an inextinguishable fire that enveloped your body, scorched your core, and wrapped your tired mind in a comforting haze. “Makes me feel bad to leave without taking care of ya like a good husband would do, right here on me desk…” You replied with an adorable giggle and Arthur slightly bucked his hips to press himself more against you, just for the sole pleasure of feeling his body colliding with yours. It’s not enough, he thought. It was never enough. There was always too much fabric, too much space, too much of everything between you except when he was buried deep inside of your core, both of you making one as you were meant to be. Another wave of excitement coursed through you, and you had to fight against the irresistible haze he stirred within. Delicate as a feather, you put your two tiny hands on his cheeks and raised his face for your eyes to meet — flaring steel sinking in lethal frost. “But tell me, what's that important hm?”

“First you have to promise me to stay calm. Will you?” You asked, batting your eyelashes like an untamable child about to tell her dad she had just destroyed the expensive family vase. The kind of look that drove Arthur crazy. Sometimes he still found himself astounded by how your face could go from terrifyingly cold to adorably childish. Saying that your words didn’t awaken a bit of worry inside of him would be a lie, but one sole glace at your angelic traits was enough to keep his rage leashed.

“Gonna try me best for ya, hm.” His dark blue irises were enraptured by the movements of your lips each time you spoke — your words were blurring, and his attention was turning into obsession: He missed you. Body, heart, and soul. “Hev…” He sighed in delight as your small hands abandoned his face to strip him from his vest, unbutton his shirt, and then paw at his chest.

“You won’t interrupt?” You mused, nuzzling your nose in the crook of his neck and mouthing against his warm skin. Your thumbs were now tracing circles on his chest, smoothing his hairs. 

“Told ya, angel. Your Arthur will try to be a good boy.”

“Well… I went to the hospital to keep company to Polly. I thought we would discuss trivial things but then she asked me to keep you busy.” You finally admitted, “She and Thomas wanted you to miss today’s meeting.” As painful words melt with the delightful sensations of your caresses, the sky in Arthur’s eyes darkened with black and stormy clouds. His body stiffened under yours.

“What the fuck that’s s’posed to mean?”  He growled, anger already boiling in his veins like a dangerous geyser about to burst. Fortunately enough, your calming presence helped him contain his violent temper — such was your almost supernatural effect on him. Different and yet so similar, Arthur Shelby was made of destructive fire that burnt the people around him as much as him. And yet, his fire never really intended to hurt: quite the contrary, it sought to stay warm and inviting, like a low fire dancing in a hearth. When it blazed out of control, even he couldn't prevent the damage done. You, on the other hand, were made of water. Just like a dangerously cold ocean, you were terrifying, infinite, and relentless, your calm prone to silent but always deadly tempests. “Why the fuck would they do that?!” He cursed louder this time. Feeling your man’s temper wearing thin, you gave a gentle lick on his neck to snatch his attention from his corrosive emotions. Your flat tongue trailed up his sharp jaw to his earlobe — the wet and hot caress on his skin sent thrills of arousal all over him and allowed his mind to focus on something more pleasant than this cruel betrayal.

“Because they want you to stop pulling the trigger.” You explained as quietly as you could, gently rubbing your cheek against his like a cat looking for both affection and attention. It seemed to do the trick: his face was still distorted with latent rage, the thick vein in his temple pumping, but at least he wasn’t turning the office over with his fists nor was he yelling so, overall, it was still a win.  “Modern approach they call it.” You added, using Polly's exact words to the difference that you peppered his lips with small pecs, talking between each pair of smooches to make the pill easier to swallow, “You become a general and Aberama takes care of Changretta… That’s their plan.”  

Breathing loudly through his nose, the gangster pressed his lips together until they formed a very thin line, “Modern approach ay?” Anger coiled like a snake amids the hurricane of his resentment, its hiss echoing through Arthur’s skull.  “They just wanna take me job away.” He stated, more for himself than anyone else, still digesting the news. “And they want to use ya against me? Bloody pricks.” Overpowered by an immense feeling of injustice, Arthur didn’t realize that he was digging his fingers in your thighs a bit more painfully than intended, but his roughness only fanned the flames of your own wickedness. Your skillful fingers explored him, nails brushing his ribs, then palms caressing his slim abs as if seeking to defuse the ticking bomb he was.

“I wanted to tell you everything because nothing in this fucking world will make me stand against you... I may agree with the idea of keeping you safe from harm but not at the expense of your trust.” You confessed,  finally pulling your face from his neck and wrapping him in a relieving hug with your frail arms. If he hadn’t kept his eyes open, he would have sworn that it wasn’t your arms that were surrounding him but two soft and protective feathery wings. His rough hands, which hadn't moved, spread your thighs further to feel your warmth through the thin fabric of your lace thong. Fireworks exploded in you at the hard bulge that was pressing between your legs, making you bite your fleshy lip. Arthur finally let out a long sigh and shook his head, wanting the only thing that could wash away the rage that was eating him up — one of his hands left your flesh only for his fingers to slip between your parted thighs and shift your undergarment to the side.

"C'm'here," He ordered, his breathing increasingly louder and faster.

"Love, you should really go to this meeting." You advised, shivering at the feeling of his long fingers fondling your slit.

"To hell with their meeting, they don't even want me here eh. Need ye right now." With skillful movements, he unzipped his fly and lowered his trousers just enough to free his half-hardened cock and slid it between your sensitive folds, the pleasure and anticipation crashing against you like a rogue wave against the shore. "I feel me bloody mind drift again... And I know I'mma butcher someone if yer lovely lil' cunt doesn't keep me warm." The ghost of a little smirk danced on his lips, mustache lifting on the right side of his mouth when he noticed that his words had the effect he wished for: More of your wetness trickled along his shaft and you had started to grind against him, low key moaning. “I don't fucking know what I'll do without ya..." Without waiting another minute, the gangster lined up with your begging entrance and slowly pushed his swollen tip inside.

"Yes, f-fuck them." You sighed, your nails digging into his back and your legs quivering at the overwhelming feeling of him stretching you. Usually, Arthur wasn't the patient kind and, as it was the case at this very moment, all he wanted to slam his far-too-big cock in you in one forceful thrust to have you whimper and wiggle above him, and yet, he wished to keep it languid for now. It wasn't a rough fuck he wanted, at least for now, but sexual and emotional comfort. The first sweet fantasy that plagued his mind wasn't to cum, but rather to enjoy the blissful and addictive sensation of his thick length opening your throbbing walls inch by inch and filling you entirely.

"There, I know ye can take it all." He gently bumped your cheek with his nose while his smirk turned into a sharp-toothed grin pitching half between the remnant of his anger and satisfaction.

“S’too big…” You stuttered, eyes shut and the telltale of a blush painting across your doll face. With toes curling in your high heels and your arms around his neck, you rolled your eyes in the back of your head as he pushed further. It never seemed to end, and yet it always ended up fitting despite your size difference.

“Bloody Hell, how are ya so tight after years of me ruining ya?" His words were spoken with animal growls — The truth was he had always loved the fact you were too small for him in every sense of the term. Despite the pain, a frail whimper escaped from your mouth, soon accompanied by your legs naturally parting more, instinctively submitting to him and his needs. With a meaner thrust, Arthur had no other choice but to force the way one last time to fill you completely, and when it was finally done, he let out a loud moan at the way your tight walls hugged him. "Shh, shh, that's okay." His strong hands seized your hips stronger to keep you from wiggling and pulling them back in reflex, "A good girl ye are hmm?" You nodded. It was only when his length hit your deepest spot that Arthur stopped, buried inside of you, hard and unmoving, your bodies entirely connected. Another whine escaped from your mouth, a little protesting sound that drove him mad with lust and almost made him forget that his initial desire was just to keep you sitting nice and quiet on his cock. “C’mon love, t’wasnt that hard. Ye should be used to it.” The only reply he got was you rolling your hips to adjust to his size for a comfortable cockwarming session — the most effective thing you had found to tame his wicked tantrums or his adrenaline-fueled passions. The first time had been hell for him, who seemed to be unable not to pound you once he penetrated you — and yet he had learned to love every little thing of it: The intimacy, the constant but manageable pleasure, the cock-drunk and appeased look on your face…

"Missed you, Art'...'" You breathed and hummed, barely rolling your hips but still slightly moving on his cock to enjoy it massaging your velvety walls, "Aren't you angry anymore?" You asked a bit too sheepishly to be true, laying a gentle kiss on his lips.

“Nah, not anymore 'cause yer a nice angel for your husband,” He grabbed your ass firmly, long fingers adorned with cold rings spreading on your cheeks to have a wider grip “Making him find peace between your legs ay?” The stretch had become comfortable by now, and you were both fully enjoying each other, him completely high by your warmth and wetness. “Making him pray God with your holy pussy.” 

“God…” You sighed, throwing your head back, feeling perfectly full — maybe a bit too much even though pain blurred with exquisite ecstasy. “B-But think about it, Arthur. What about letting Aberama do the job? We would stay locked up in the house and do nothing but fuck until the whole Vendetta is over and we go back home?” You suggested, flush burning your porcelain cheeks and giving them a rosy color. The melody of your words — along with how good he felt deep inside of you —snatched a low moan from him. Yet, as much as he yearned for your offer, his conscience needed blood. 

“Got no choice, love.” His two hands left your body shortly to grab each side of your lace dress and take it out, throwing the garment somewhere in his office to have you exposed and vulnerable while he was still fully dressed. Once naked, he cupped your small breasts and started kneading them with blunt caresses that made you squeal: you were already sensitive due to your hidden pregnancy. “John wants me to do it.”

"Fuck!" You cursed when he moved along with you, your hips dancing together and intensifying the burning arousal that was saturating your senses. Soon, splitting you open and having you moaning on his cock wasn't enough anymore. His arms suddenly wrapped you possessively, pulling your two bodies even closer. So close the cold gold of his cross necklace on your skin sent thrills of pleasure down your spine. "He wouldn't want you to risk your life."

“It was me who shot the old man.” Arthur’s mouth, eager to find yours, crashed against your lips in a kiss so passionate that it took your breath away. One of them rough hands stroked your back in an overwhelming cocktail of caresses and scratches, waltzing on every inch of your skin while the other pinched one of your nipples. A second kiss captured your mouth, his tongue making its way into your parted lips to seek yours, not minding the thin trickle of saliva at the corner of them. “John is dead because of me,” He breathed between two savage kisses, “And I’m gonna make it right.” His voice was merely a low whisper combined with ragged breaths and low, gravelly moans.

"S'that was you want?" You managed to ask, losing your fingers in his hair and your mind in a fog of carnal delight. Forehead pressed against forehead, you reopened your frozen eyes and dived into his, words becoming more and more useless as a tornado of raw emotions and sincerity swirled in the blue of his iris: His need to avenge John was visceral and you understood that his mind wouldn't be able to find rest if he couldn't kill Luca Changretta, hence putting an end to the vicious cycle of vengeance. And you definitely hadn't the heart to deny him this unhealthy yet efficient way of exorcising both his guilt and his baby brother's death. “So be it.” You finally granted, endless love shining in your eyes. After all, if there was something you could understand it was vengeance. Torturing and butchering five men didn’t bring your family back, but the pleasure of watching life slipping away from them had nonetheless helped you put up with that excruciating wound, "But when you’ll kill that bastard put two bullets through his head. One for you, and one for me.” You concluded, shifting your body slightly to take the gun that was on his desk before wrapping his neck with your two arms again. And then the mask of the lamb fell, shattering on the ground and revealing the wolf you were. A wolf that was smiling and moaning, its thumb softly caressing the weapon’s metal.

"I'll do that, little one." A smile beamed on his face as you allowed him to carry on his personal vendetta — or as he felt the sensation of the gun resting against his back, his joy finding a delicious echo in his body. The circular movements of his hips turned into deep and full-length thrusts that had you throwing your head back and chanting his name.

“Mr. Shelby! “

“I’m fookin’ busy!” Arthur’s booming voice roared in the office as he slammed the door right at the man’s face. The access to the room might have been forbidden to him, but the cacophony of savage fucking and the noise of the office’s blinds being shaken left no doubt on what was happening. He finally gave up, well aware that nothing would make his boss come. It was only when he told him that two intruders had been spotted in the factory that Arthur stormed out of the room, disheveled, shirt quickly buttoned u,p and with a hammer in one hand. A bloodbath was coming and since nothing could be done to prevent it, Ben went back to work and tried to ignore the upcoming mess. With a bit of luck, they would manage to put down the rabid beast Arthur Shelby was. Soon after his departure, the white-haired girl left, snuggled up in her white fur coat and walking as elegantly as always, even if she was slightly staggering on her heels after what the gangster did to her.

“Poor girl.” Barney — another worker recently hired — stated, glancing at you as you passed by. “She’s nice. Y’know she brings us treats and pastries sometimes… What a shame that young lady had been forced to elope with this bastard.”

“Poor girl?” Ben replied to his colleague, almost choking. “Forced wedding? You’re really new here, mate. Can’t believe the doll blinded you. Something’s off with her. And forced wedding… All you have to do is pay attention to the way they look at each other and then you’ll understand. And it will frighten you.”

“Ya really talking about sweet lamb Heaven?”

Ben scoffed, “A lamb… When your eyes meet Heaven Shelby’s nobody can’t tell if she wanna braid your hair or eat your heart. Lamb she’s not. Don’t get fooled by the dresses and heels, she’s not playing doll. She only makes violence look better.”

Barney became silent at his friend’s sordid statement, the far away sound of Arthur yelling, bones breaking and agonizing screams resounded in the depths of the factory along with the machines’ roars. Amidst the smells of hot metal, sweat, and paint, lingered the spring-like fragrances of your perfume, which confused him even more.

✞ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.

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