#i got a lovely bunch of coconuts | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eilishsmuse · 6 months ago

Text

comfortable silence is so overrated

— billie eilish x fem!reader

context. it’s been four months after the whole incident between billie and you. after many mental breakdowns the past months you’ve finally got over it. billie on the other hand could say otherwise. when you see her at a party she pulls you for a chat. but why?

cw. swearing, drinking, confessions, toxicity, billie realizing she fucked up, billie is also a total mess, dumping feelings, lowkey sexual tension

soundtrack. from the dinning table – harry styles

original. i hate that i can’t love you

It’s been a while since the argument with Billie. You two haven’t spoken since. No texts. No calls. Nothing.

For a while, you were completely wrecked ever since the whole situation happened. For a good month you had to do no-contact with everyone you knew. You felt embarrassed and ashamed for what you felt toward Billie. You both agreed on the contract. At least that’s what you kept on telling yourself.

Now 4 months later you were completely over it.

You were sat on a couch at one of your friends backyard house party here in LA. He worked within the music industry and was the main reason you met Billie.

You had a red solo cup in hand. With whatever concoctions your friend mixed for the party.

As your friend group started talking about some gossip within the celebrity slash influencer industry your eyes started drifting around.

People watching.

As your eyes scanned the room they took a quick double take at a certain somebody. Billie.

She’s laughing with a bunch of her friends and they’re all standing around her like she’s the leader of their ‘posse��. You immediately look away and immediately feel uneasy as her face is now engraved in your mind.

You excuse yourself from your friends to go get a drink, swiftly getting off the couch and walking over towards the bar area.

Billie takes a quick inventory of the house party her friend had invited her to. Tons of people she recognizes from the music industry, but also not a lot of people she likes either. Her gaze falls from group to group, finally landing back on her friends.

A few influencers from social media, a couple of producers from her record label...and a familiar face.

Billie’s heart does a backflip as her eyes land on you, noticing how beautiful you looked in that leather skirt with that tight red laced top.

Shit.

Immediately, she has an almost visceral reaction to the sight of you.

Everything about you looks so good, from your hair to your outfit.

Billie wants to go up to you, grab you and lock you in a room, kiss you until you can’t even remember your own name.

But she can’t.

She bites the inside of her cheek, eyes glued on you from across the room.

You order a coconut margarita from the bartender and let out a sigh, closing your eyes for a brief second.

The music was loud in your ears and hard in your chest. And on top of that your heart was already beating out your chest thanks to Billie being here.

You opened your eyes again to your drink being set in front of you. You mutter a small thanks to the bartender and immediately take a sip from the margarita glass.

Billie’s eyes follow you as you order the drink, the sight of you talking to the bartender making her heart jump into her throat.

Jesus, you’re even more beautiful in person than in her memory.

Billie grips the solo cup in her hand tighter, watching as you take a sip from the glass. She tries to swallow, dry throat making it hard.

For a few seconds, Billie considers going over to you.

What would she even say? She can’t tell you that she’s missed you. The contract was clear. No feelings.

Billie has been completely unable to get you out of her mind since the fight. Her heart aches every time she thinks about the way your face looked, so upset and pleading...

Billie bites her lip as you move to walk away from the bar.

Hell, she has to talk to you. At least let you know something.

Before she can talk herself out of it, Billie starts towards you. Her heart is throbbing against her ribcage, nearly threatening to burst through every time she takes a step forward.

Deep breath. Just talk to her. You’re just talking to her.

Billie arrives next to you, standing a few inches away and trying to look relaxed.

“Hey.”

You turn your head to the side to the familiar voice and you’re immediately met with those stupidly, beautiful blue eyes.

You don’t react physically.

But your heart and head are sure as hell pounding inside.

“Hi.”

Billie’s not used to you not having a big reaction to her presence.

When you turn towards her, she’s again hit with how attractive you are, her eyes involuntarily flicking down your body.

Billie quickly brings her eyes back up, meeting yours. She’s a little speechless.

“You look,” she coughs. “You look good.”

What is she even saying?? Billie, get it together for crying out loud.

Your eyebrows raise for a split second but then furrow in part confusion and surprise.

You open your mouth to say ‘you too’ but you don’t wanna give Billie the satisfaction of feeling like she has you wrapped around her finger all over again.

Even though she does look good in her backwards cap and those fucking glasses—

Stop it, Y/N.

Instead you stop the words from leaving your mouth and give her a small smile, “Thanks.”

God, your smile could kill her.

Billie’s heart does a little backflip when you do, the familiarity of it making her chest ache.

She’s missed you. She’s missed you so damn much, but she can’t tell you that.

It’s not just your smile that’s attractive either. That leather skirt you’re wearing drives her absolutely insane, making her want to grab ahold of you and press you up against the nearest wall...

A blush creeps into her cheeks at the thought.

Billie’s heart skips a beat at the small smile, and once again she’s thrown off.

You seem...unbothered to her presence. Usually you’re happy, or at least visibly excited to see her.

Which is exactly what Billie doesn’t want.

She swallows, adjusting her hat. “Yeah, uh, no problem.”

Billie can’t help scanning you over again, her eyes tracing the lines of your body.

Get a hold of yourself, Billie.

You on the other hand, can tell how nervous Billie seemed to be talking to you. From the hat adjustments, the fidgeting of her rings, and the way her eyes would wonder to other parts of you.

The parts she even started talking to you in the first place for.

That’s right.

Billie only really wanted you for one thing. The sex.

A straight face was what you held when you reminded yourself of her not forgotten actions.

There’s a pause in the conversation, and it’s starting to make Billie a little nervous.

You’re not reacting the way she thought you would. Why aren’t you blushing, or staring, or smiling back?

She bites the inside of her cheek, trying to think of something to say. Her eyes flick down to the solo cup in your hands, then back up.

“What, uh, what are you drinking?”

Really, Billie? What are you drinking? Nice one.

“A marg.”

The words leaving your lips dryly and uninterested.

Billie swallows again as she eyes the red cup in your hand. She’s starting to feel like even more of a tool.

Her eyes flick up to yours, and she’s stuck by how composed you seem to be. Like the last few months never even happened.

“Marg?” she asks, repeating you. “Like...margarita?”

You blink at Billie once, a straight face staring at right back at hers.

“What are you doing?” You began, eyebrows furrowed at her poor attempts to make conversation.

“I mean,” You begin to look around the yard and then back at her, “Why are you talking to me?”

Billie blinks at the question, eyes widening. She opens her mouth to answer, but words fail her.

Why was she talking to you?

You’re right. Why is she?

For a few seconds, she’s at a loss. She can’t exactly say “because I miss you” or “because everything reminds me of you”.

She shoves her hands into her pockets, shoulders lifting in a shrug.

“I dunno.”

There’s another brief pause, and Billie’s heart is hammering in her chest as she desperately tries to think of something, anything else to say.

She’s starting to have the feeling that she shouldn’t have even come over, but the pull to you is stronger than her brain right now, and it seems like you’re not going to give her an easy out.

“Look, I...”

Billie pauses again, licking her lips.

“I wanted to talk to you, okay?” She finally says, and her voice comes out a little more gruff than she intended.

Billie’s not used to having to struggle to talk like this. She’s used to having people pay attention to her, listen to her, and do what she says.

But with you it’s different.

You aren’t giving her the usual response, and it’s making her feel even more vulnerable.

A small, sarcastic smile plays on your lips, “And you thought I’d want to as well?”

At this point your margarita left your hand and sat on the bar top, you crossed your arms and looked at Billie with a slight tilt of your head.

Billie’s eyes follow the movement of your margarita being set down, and she can’t really blame you for not wanting to talk to her.

She’d expected you to not want to talk, so why hadn’t she just stayed away?

“I...I just...” Billie’s eyes dart around, her voice getting a little more hushed.

“I just wanted to...I don’t know,” she pauses again, her hand fiddling with the ring on her finger. It’s antsy, anxious, something she hates feeling.

“What?”

Your eyebrows are furrowed and your face has confusion written all over it, “Wanted me to sign another NDA?”

Your voice now low and hushed so only Billie could hear.

Ouch.

Billie winces at your words, even though she more than deserves them.

Her shoulders drop, her eyes going down to the floor for a few seconds. Her stomach clenches, and she swallows.

“No...that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Billie looks up to you, her eyes pleading.

You nod at her slowly and raise your hands in a ‘why’ motion, “So why are we talking?”

You study her body language.

She’s uncomfortable and worried. Clearly.

She’s stuttering over her words, her hands are more clearly messing with the hem of her shirt, her chest is falling and rising with more speed.

Shit.

She looks exactly like you that one day. And now you’re starting to feel like shit.

But you don’t let it show. You shake it off and keep your exterior, a small minuscule change in the way your eyes looked at her.

Billie’s shoulders straighten as she tries to look more confident, but your cool response is really making her crumble inside.

In the last four months, she’s been unable to think of anything except your face, your body, your voice, everything. She’d tortured herself over what she was going to say if she saw you again.

And now here you were in front of her, aloof and impassive.

And it was killing her.

“I...I wanted to talk to you about us.”

You took a steady breath in at her words and looked elsewhere in the party, letting the breath out and looking back over to Billie.

You swallowed and kept eye contact with her for a few seconds, finally opening your mouth.

“There’s no more us Billie.”

Your tone was gentle and quiet. Your face was now replaced with a much softer look and a somewhat saddened expression.

The words hit like a punch to the gut.

Even though Billie knew that was coming, it still hurts to hear you say it out loud.

She swallows again, trying to control the way she’s feeling.

“I...I know that, but I…I just...”

There’s a pause as she wracks her brain for the right thing to say. No, not the right thing to say. The truth.

“I miss you,” she says, her words barely a whisper.

I miss you.

What the fuck?

She’s bullshitting you Y/N.

You blink slowly at her and her words, letting out a shaky breath. A look of anger, betrayal, and sadness all flashing on your face.

All silently.

It was the exact same look you held when you had your argument.

You looked at your drink on the bar-top and took it in your hand, not sharing eye contact with Billie.

Not saying a single word.

The tension was high.

The music was still loud.

The beat in your chest pounded harder.

It was all too much.

So you walked away. You went straight toward the more secluded part of the party where no one was. It was a balcony that overlooked all of Los Angeles.

The bright city lights never looked more interesting. You were really only trying to get rid of Billie’s words out your mind.

Billie watches as you walk away, the emotions clearly written on your face.

Her heart sinks as you reject her words and leave.

She can’t help it.

She follows, weaving quickly through the crowd and around the corners of the house until she finally gets to that balcony.

She takes a few steps forward, closing the space between the two of you. When she can safely assume she’s not going to startle you, Billie speaks up.

“Please don’t run away.”

You look up at the sky with closed eyes and mentally ask the world to give you mercy for this conversation.

Argument really.

You turn around and look Billie straight in the eye.

“I mean what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Your voice confused, angry, and sad. Your face contorted into some sort of mixed emotions.

Billie’s heart flutters in her chest at the sound of your voice again.

This was the reaction she wanted.

No, the reaction she wanted was you kissing her and pulling her flush against your warm body.

But right now this anger was the only thing she could get. Anything was better than indifference.

“What’s wrong with me?”

Billie’s voice is laced with disbelief, coming to stand next to you on the edge of the balcony.

“Yes!”

Helplessness laced in your tone.

“What kind of fucked up shit are you up to? ‘I miss you.’ I mean what the fuck!”

Billie’s chest is rising and falling with her heavy breathing as she stands there, trying to find the words to say that will help you understand, that will get you to listen.

“I’m not up to anything!” She insists. “I just...”

Billie reaches out and lays her hand on your arm, trying to ignore the way her skin tingles when she touches you.

“Please, let me explain.”

You retract your arm from Billie’s grip almost immediately, the contrast of the feeling of her cold rings and warm hand leaving goosebumps on your skin.

“Don’t touch me.”

And at this point your eyes are starting to burn, your teeth are biting at your lips to stop yourself from saying anything wrong.

Her heart drops in her chest as you shove away from her. Billie can tell that you’re getting overwhelmed, and it’s breaking her heart to watch it happen.

She pulls her hand away, clenching her fingers into a fist.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” she says quietly, her voice as gentle as she can make it.

Billie’s eyes dart around your face, a mixture of guilt, hurt, and panic written all over her features. Seeing you this upset does something to her— it’s like she can’t breathe.

“Please just listen to me,” she says again, her voice coming out more desperate. Whiny. “Please...”

She takes a step forward, trying to get closer to you again, aching to soothe the agitation in your body.

Billie can’t handle you being this upset. The air is thick, and her chest feels heavy with the need to touch you, to make you feel better.

But she knows if she tries, you’re going to push her away again.

You don’t say anything. You’re silent.

You know if you speak up you’ll regret saying the things that’ll come out your mouth. So you don’t speak.

You let Billie say what she wants to say.

Billie lets out a shaky sigh, and a few hairs that had fallen loose from her cap blow in the cool night air.

“I...”

She bites her bottom lip, trying to keep her hands still and not reach out for you again.

“When I said I missed you...I meant it.”

There’s a hint of frustration in her words.

“Please, look at me.”

So you do.

You look up from the railing of the balcony and to Billie. Your eyes are red and teary-eyed. You’re tired. And it’s written all over your face.

Billie’s eyes widen slightly at the tears now gathering in your eyes.

No.

She didn’t mean to make you cry. That wasn’t what she was trying to accomplish.

Billie’s heart clenches, aching to pull you into her arms and take away any and all pain you’d felt in the four months apart.

“Hey...”

She steps closer to you, gently placing a hand on your cheek to brush away the few tears that have fallen.

And at this point, you’ve completely given up on trying to get away from Billie.

You lean into her touch and let out a sob.

Your heart breaks and your body practically aches with pain and heat. You missed her and you were tired of pretending you didn’t.

“Billie.”

Your voice came out as a whiny cry, like a little kid who mourned the loss of their first pet.

The sound that comes out of you twists at something deep inside Billie’s chest, a wave of helplessness washing over her.

She doesn’t want to make you cry. She wants you to be happy. She wants to make sure you’re as happy as possible, to see you smile that gorgeous smile again—not cry like this.

“Shhh...don’t cry,” Billie murmurs, her other hand coming up to cradle your face.

She’s impossibly gentle, as if you’re something precious to be handled with care.

And you are. That’s exactly what Billie thinks of you. She knows you need to be handled with care.

You are precious...

Billie brushes her thumbs across your cheeks, wiping away the fallen tears. Her brain is running a mile a minute, desperately trying to think of something, anything that will help you feel better.

She hates you hurting like this. Hating the fact that she is the reason you’re hurting.

“Please...just stop crying...you’re breaking my heart...”

“I still—“

Your voice is cracking and whiny. Your burning eyes look up into Billie’s blue ones.

“I still love you.”

Billie’s heart stops in her chest.

She stares down at you, shocked to hear those three words come out of your mouth.

I still love you.

Billie’s eyes rake across your face, looking for any sign of a lie in your words, but all she sees is an exhausted pain and vulnerability.

“Baby...” she whispers.

Billie’s hands still haven’t left their place on your cheeks, her fingers shaking against you as she processes what you just said.

“You...you still love me?”

Her words are quiet and hesitant, like she’s half afraid of what the answer will be.

Billie’s eyes flicker around your face, noting all of the emotions written on your features—a mirror to the ones she’s feeling right now.

Love. Anger. Sadness. Confusion. Despair. Excitement. Exhaustion. Desire.

It’s all there, plain as day on both of your faces.

Just then your hearing was hushed. Your body grew slack and your heartbeat slowed.

You surged forward without any thought whatsoever.

Your lips ended up on Billie’s.

Yes.

This is all you’ve ever wanted these past four months no matter how much you denied it. You missed her. You missed her so much. And all you wanted right now was for her to hold you.

Billie is completely caught off guard when you kiss her, letting out a soft gasp against your mouth before finally giving in.

Finally. Finally.

She’s needed this. No, she’s craved this. These past few months have been long, and lonely, and exhausting. But now you’re here and finally, finally she can touch you again.

One of her hands slide from your cheek to the back of your neck, keeping you close as she kisses you back.

Billie’s lips move against yours frantically, pressing hard and desperate. She’s trying to pour everything she’s feeling into this kiss. And she wants to hear, to feel you do the same.

Her chest is burning, her heart is racing, and when she finally pulls back for a breath, her breathing is ragged. Billie looks at you with heavy-lidded eyes, the blue of her irises almost lost in the darkness of her wide pupils.

“I’m sorry,” You breathed out, lip quivering with adrenaline, “I didn’t mean all the fucked up shit I said.”

You gripped at Billie’s shoulder and forearm so tight that there’d probably bruises after you let go.

But Billie doesn’t care if you leave bruises.

In fact, she’d relish in it.

A physical reminder of what this night and this moment meant to both of you.

She lets out a shaky breath, her eyes never leaving your face. “I don’t care, baby. It’s alright. I forgive you. I forgive you. Just...please...let me...”

Billie pauses, biting her lip. She knows what she wants. But she can’t come out and say it. Not right now. Her throat feels like it’s closing up.

She swallows roughly and tries again. “Please...let me make it up to you...and...and prove to you I still...that I still...”

Billie’s words get caught in her throat, and her fingers tighten even more around your body, trying to get her thoughts in order.

“Please just...” her voice drops to a low whisper, “please just...let me...love you...love me back...”

There’s a pleading in her voice, a desperate undertone to her words.

Your grip becomes tighter at her words as you look in her eyes. Your heart was practically beating in your ears and throughout your whole body.

Your head felt dizzy and your breathing picked up again.

The whiny tone Billie voice picked up made your skin tingle. You’ve wanted this for so long.

The yearning.

The begging.

And now you finally had it.

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted from you.”

When you say yes, it’s like a weight has been lifted from her shoulders. And a deep-seated, burning feeling settles in the pit of her stomach.

“Then you’ll have it.”

It’s the only response that comes out of Billie’s mouth before she’s kissing you again, her hands pulling you even closer to her body.

Her arms wrap around you and she’s practically clinging to you, like this is the last time she’s ever going to get to touch you.

Billie didn’t take you back to the party after the balcony.

Instead, she took you back to her home.

And you spent the rest of the night wrapped in her sheets and in her arms, whispers of love and forgiveness exchanged between you both as the hours passed.

And in the morning, when you woke up, Billie was already awake holding you in her arms, watching you sleep as she stroked your hair with the gentlest of touches.

And after those long 4 months. She no longer hated the fact that she couldn’t love you the way you were meant to be loved.

‧₊˚✩彡

fer speaks!!!

yay happy ending! i beg of y’all to throw some requests at me 🙏🏼

#eilishsmuse #billie eilish #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish x reader

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brummiereader · 20 days ago

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Sweet Dreams, Darling (Part One)

Summary: August 1907. The beginning of a whirlwind romance that would see you and Tommy separated then reunited again for years to come. But when you unexpectedly reappear one rainy morning back into his life, Tommy's distracted eyes have your reunion starting off on the wrong foot. In a desperate attempt to refresh your memory of the summer you spent together, Tommy patiently waits for the penny to finally drop.

Warnings: Language, angst, mutual pining, sexual assault.

Word count: 3.5K

Authors Note: The song John sings to irritate Arthur with is an old cockney song called "I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts" by Merv Griffin. This first chapter is loosely based off the song "The Tunnel Of Love" by the Dire Straits, and how my grandparents met each other in the 1950's.

[Masterlist] [Trailer]

Birmingham, 1967

" We'll leave in an hour, Nan" your granddaughter softly smiled at you, chestnut brown locks falling in front of her rosy cheeks as she placed the small porcelain cup of freshly brewed tea on the doily covered table beside you.

" Thank you, dear" your eyes drifted solemnly from the black and white photo of you and Tommy next to the steaming cup of English brew. The captured moment, and its weathered edges, tucked safely behind the glass of it's silver-plated frame.

" Time doesn't half catch up on you when you're not looking" your eyes drifted down to your aged hands, to the wrinkles and patches of wisdom dotted across your skin as you reached out with shaky fingers to brush the pad of your thumb over your husband's youthful face staring back at you.

" Nan?" your granddaughter shifted towards you, hand resting gently on your back as her eyes darted to the bouquet of wrapped carnations, lonesome on her grandfather's leather upholstered chair of choice. "Nan, are you ok?"

" Hm?" you turned to see the concern in her eyes, to the feeling of her hand clutched tightly around yours in a pang of worry.

" Oh, don't fret lovey. All is well" your fingers brushed the ringlet of hair from her face to see the crystal blues of her eyes she and every member of your and Tommy's brood had inherited.

"Ok" she quietly caved in to your smile of reassurance as she watched your attentions drift back to her suited grandfather, sat stoic beside you in the portrait taken many moons ago.

" How did you and Grandad meet?" she was eager to lighten the mood. To one of happy memories. To the many stories she had been told by her grandfather when Sunday dinner had been eaten. When the dishes had been cleared, and she sat patiently by his chair, waiting for him to tell her about the tales of his youth while they both indulged in the stash of black liquorice sat in a ceramic pot by his favourite seat, neither one of them had a liking for. All but one story that was. A story he'd left for you to tell. One she was eager to learn before it was time to leave.

" Which time, my dear?" you turned with the milky cup of black tea perched between your lips, welcoming the warmth of England's remedy to all of life's hardships settle in your chest as the drizzly weather dusted the tips of your freshly cut grass with beaded droplets of rain.

" Nan, you must be confused. Surely you could have only met once?" your granddaughter's head lowered with a blushing smile at your usually sharp memory succumbing to your old age.

" Oh, but we didn't, dear. Even though your Grandfather's stubbornness on the matter often insisted otherwise" a youthful giggle erupted from your chest as a flurry of memories about both encounters swarmed back to you in a warm hug.

"The first time I met your Grandfather, he wasn't that far off from your own age" you adjusted yourself in your floral recliner for the long tale ready to be told as you placed your cup of tea down on its silver coaster.

" And the second time...well, I didn't recognise him at all" you watched your granddaughter eagerly nestle in, pulling one of your hand-knitted cushions into her lap.

" Tell me about it, please?" her eyes beamed with curiosity. Her buoyant energy and keenness to learn about how you had met, awakening the sounds of spinning carousels, the melodies of your youth being played from the intricately placed chimes of a wooden music box.

" It was the summer of 1907, the hottest day on record. And the fair had come to town..."

August, 1907

" I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts" John, burdened with the title of middle child sang with the intention of irritating his older brother as giggling children ran by with fluffy clouds of sugared treats, whilst the sounds of a wooden music box being turned by a tattooed armed man, played through the buzz and excitement of the fair.

"Shut it, John" Arthur grumbled, eyes narrowing in on the stack of tropical fruits as he rolled the metal ball in the palm of his hand.

" There they all just standing in a row" the cockney classic continued as he plonked himself down on top of the table.

"Would ya bleeding shut it!" Arthur growled, squeezing the iron ball he was seconds from launching at his brothers head.

"Big ones, small ones" John cupped his shirted bosom with pouting lips as he slid into Arthurs line of sight.

" Idiot wants me to kill him" Arthur quietly smirked as his aim shifted to his brother's cackling face.

"Got too many brothers anyway" the eldest Shelby mumbled under his breath, squinting eyes curling at the obnoxious noise accompanied by Johns flamboyant dancing as his arm stretched out beside him, weapon firmly grasped between his fingers.

" One less mouth for Aunt Poll to feed, ay Tommy? Tom?" Arthur's murderous intentions went unheard as Tommy's remained elsewhere to a young girl with rebellious whispers of hair blowing in the summer breeze. A perched basket of freshly picked apples resting on her hip, ready to be dipped into their delightful syrupy mixture.

"Shit..." Tommy mumbled under his breath, eyes darting to find you disappearing among the swarming crowd as he wiped the beads of sweat from his brow before taking off in search of you.

"You won!" John jumped off the table, head snapping back to the tumbling sound of fuzzy coated coconuts falling to the ground.

"What d'you mean?..." the eldest brother sniffed, prize in hand as he turned to see the confusion knitted between John's brows.

"...I missed" Arthur's Cheshire smile grew at the slouching one of John's as his stuffed win landed with a hard thud across the back of his head before his darting eyes searched for his now, favourite brother.

"Where's Tom at?"

Swerving through the teeming crowd of people patiently waiting for a spin on the galloping horsed carousel, Tommy's searching eyes finally landed on you.

" You in line, Mister?" a young boy, cheeks full of candy floss tugged at the cuffs of his shirt as the line of fairgoers moved forward, pushing Tommy to the front.

" Ay?" Tommys eyes darted to and from the small child to you disappearing behind the wooden stalls of prizes yet to be won as he held up the huffing crowd.

" You getting on or what, son?" the stout operator grumbled with a flick of his head for Tommy to step onto the rickety ride, its wooden frame decorated with weathered looping twirls from the many summers it had seen.

" 'ere" Tommy reached into his pocket, handing the last of his tickets to the sticky cheeked boy before setting off in search of you for a second time.

" Thanks mister!" a squeaky call of gratitude saw Tommy off to the back of the brightly covered stalls, to you stood with a young man hovering over you.

" Go on, give us a quick kiss then" the towering lad, dressed down in only a vest and tweed trousers kept you in place as the scorching heat of the sun beamed down on your backs.

" Fuck off, O'Connor " your attempts to push past his strong build were rendered useless when his quick footing had him slip in front of you, thieving fingers delving into the basket of apples sat on your hip.

"Little tease" he bit down onto the freshly picked fruit with a smirk. Fingers lifting the ends of your dress for a peak under the frilly fabric, you hastily slapped away.

" Gonna ask your daddy for your hand in marriage. Won't be able to say no then" the teasing tone in his voice was suddenly replaced by his reaching hand, grabbing hold of your arm as he threw the half-eaten fruit behind him to the feet of Tommy, stood watching behind the wooden frame of the stall.

" He'll put a bullet through your chest before you get the chance if you don't let me go" you battled with his grasp with a stiffened bottom lip. Eyes watering at the stinging hold of his leathery hands searing your skin.

A good foot taller than him. Muscles as big as fucking boulders. Shit, Tommy thought to himself as he watched with rolling shoulders, pumping himself up for the scrap undoubtedly about to take place.

" Your pretty little head forgotten who owns this fucking fair?" his fingers cupped your cheek, forcing the back of your head against the wooden barrier separating you from aide.

"My old man was kind enough to give your family work when you lot came knocking. Can take it away just as quickly" he played with the fragile state of your family's finances, knowing how much you depended on your jobs at the fair to make ends meet.

" Come on, darling. Loosen up a bit, yeh?" his hand glided over your clothed breast in a hushed voice. Nestled head in the curve of your neck, leaving a trail of desire down your skin with moans of want as you squeezed your welling eyes shut, waiting for it to be over.

" Ay! Get the fuck off her!" Tommy raced forward, lean body ducking past O'Connor's turning shadow with a fist full of taught vengeance ready to be delivered in one mighty blow to his cheek.

And a mighty blow was dealt, one Tommy was sure had broken his hand when his stifled cries of pain had him swiftly turning his back to you in an agonising attempt to save face.

" You knocked the bastard out!" your back stiffened against the wooden stall as your widening eyes snapped down to the body of Sean O'Connor, slumped unconscious on the cracking earth of summers drought.

" Fuck!" Tommy's voice shrilled with a strangle bellow, succumbing to the stabbing pain shooting through his hand.

"Wha...what's his head made of? Fucking metal?!" he turned with a reddened face contorting in pain as his shivering hand, bloody and bruised, wiped his sweaty brow.

" Well, he is as thick as a brick" you stepped over the slumped body, heel of your shoe conveniently finding its way onto Sean's limp hand.

" Let me see" you slowly approached, gently cradling his hand in yours with an urgent need to inspect the damage that had been done.

" One of many battle wounds, I'm sure. But not broken" you quietly noted with a brush of your thumb over his battered hand, eyes locking with the besotted blue gaze staring down at you and the smile your own curling lips couldn't help but match as a blissfulll silence settled between you both.

"Thank you..." your gratitude came in a faint murmur against the sound of fairground melodies as you waited for him to introduce himself.

" Tommy Shelby" his freckled cheeks dimpled with a smile, bruised hand still cradled between yours in a hold so gentle, he'd all but forgotten about the throbbing pain he felt only moments before.

"I'm Y/N, Y/N Y/M/N" your cheeks blushed with a subtle sway of your hips as you melted under his crystal stare.

" Y/N" he echoed back in a whisper, eyes taking in every delicate feature that had captivated him from afar on the hottest day of August that was set to be the most cherished summer of his life.

" It's a pleasure to meet you, Y/N"

For two months the fair had come to Birmingham. And for two months Tommy had visited you almost every day, spending a small fortune on tickets to go over looked by the watchful eyes of your family and those of Sean's who was laid up inside by the window of his family's wagon in search of the peaked cap boy who had bruised his ego.

But like most traveling folk, the time had come to move on. News the love-struck teen battled to swallow as he watched you clear the stall of trinkets and stuffed bears through the setting sun of the fair's last day.

" Can't you stay? Just one more day?" Tommy asked the impossible as he sat perched on the table next to you, picking at the splintering wood with eyes downcast at your shuffling feet.

" You know how it is, we never settle for too long" you caught his sorrowful gaze darting up at you as you placed the arms worth of prizes into its crate for his hand.

" Was just trying my luck, eh?" a faint smile and pull of your body had you settling yourself between his legs when a rowdy voice saw you both squinting through the fading sun.

" Come on, wrap it up, ay Tom! We've got a train to bloody catch!" Arthur called for his brother to hurry his goodbyes as a disgruntled Tommy mumbled his displeasure upon seeing him and John stood impatiently waiting for him.

" Here" you turned back with a blushing smile, fingers reaching into the wooden crate of treasures for a small box as Tommy's hands dropped to your waist. Eyes committing to memory every inch of your glowing face illuminated by the orange hues of the dying sun.

" Remember me by this" you pulled his hand in front of you, placing a small gold buckled ring on his thumb when your impending farewell got the better of you and a steady stream of tears began to roll down your cheeks.

With nothing left to say that would reassure your broken hearts you'd see each other again, your intended promises fell silent to the feeling of your lips meeting in a first kiss. A final goodbye to your summer romance.

" Don't forget me" you pulled away, cheeks dotted with tears when your shaky body was suddenly pulled back into a passionate embrace encouraged by the whistles and cheers of Tommy's hollering brothers before he left you stood where he'd first met you.

" Now how could I ever forget that, eh!" he called back with a boyish grin, adjusting his peak cap as Arthur landed a slap of approval to his shoulder before they ran to catch the last train of the day back to Small Heath.

High on the world, Tommy had already begun the count-down to when the fair would visit next year. But youth's wishfulness would be met with disappointment when life's hardships changed fate's trajectory and Tommy found himself hopelessly searching for you every summer as your face began to fade from his memory with each passing season. That was until an unexpected rainy day in 1914, when you'd meet again, for a second time.

Small Heath, 1914

"Easy on the breaks there, Tom. Easy now" Arthur held onto the dash of the chugging truck with a grunt. Regretting handing over the reins of designated driver to his younger brother

" It's a piece of shit!" Tommy protested about the dubiously sourced vehicle Arthur had scavenged.

" Yeh well, this piece of shit will see that this delivery finds its way to Charlie's yard" the two brothers shared a mischievous smirk as the sound of a truck's worth of nicked train tracks rattled behind them the Shelby boys would use to line their pockets for their growing family business ran out of their Watery Lane home.

" Turn 'ere" Arthur's eyes narrowed in on the end of the cobbled road, to the officer stood inspecting the goods of each passing vehicle after having learnt of the missing tracks that saw every train out of Small Health stranded that morning. " Tom, bloody turn!"

" It's...stuck!" Tommy battled with the wheel as the rattling truck rumbled towards the policeman eyeing up the chaotic scene of Arthur manhandling every leverage, every button in attempts to save themselves from driving head first into the baton-handed officer.

" Bloody thing!" the eldest brother leaned over, straining with Tommy to turn the stiffened wheel when the metal discs finally loosened and they swerved around the corner, narrowly missing the discovery of the tonnes worth of metal concealed in the back of the car.

" Fuck, that was a close one!" Arthur fell back into his chair with a chuckle as Tommy shot him an irritated glare at his useless ability to source the equipment needed to commit their petty crimes.

" Next time, I'm in charge" Tommy huffed as he turned his grinding jaw back to the road when something, or rather someone, suddenly caught his eye.

" Yeh, yeh" Arthur waved off his brother with a sniff, stretching his gangly legs along the foot of the car as Tommy found his eyes slipping to the cobbled path and the approaching sight of someone he never thought he'd lay eyes on again. You.

" Tommy. Ay, Tommy" Arthurs' heavy hand alerted his brother with a pat across his chest at the drifting wheels heading for the large puddle ahead.

Oblivious to the foolish cockup he was about to make. Tommy couldn't seem to drag his longing eyes from you after the seven years he'd gone without seeing you.

But a joyful reunion was off the cards for Tommy, whose frazzled thoughts had him forgetting that he was in fact, in control of the hurtling vehicle speeding your way. So frazzled that he had no time to react when the swerving wheels saw him drive into the large puddle, dosing you in a wave of muddied rain water.

" Shit! Shit!" Tommy's eyes darted to the rear-view mirror to you stood drenched from head to toe with waving arms as he slouched into his seat with reddening cheeks. His embarrassment only made worse by Arthur's perfectly sought choice of words.

" Well done you bloody idiot"

With a change of dry clothes and a frown permanently settled between your brows for the day that had started in a puddle of disaster, you began to tidy the countertop of the corner shop you now worked at. Unbeknownst that the very cause of said disastrous day, had inquired around the soot-covered town about your whereabouts, and was about to stroll through the door to the sound of the ringing bell hovered overhead.

You, you glared at the three men, eyes quickly hunting out the careless driver you remained oblivious to his connection to your youth.

With the sudden realisation that you didn't recognise him, Tommy casually drifted from shelf to shelf, to each boxed product and canned good while watching you in the corner of his eye as he swallowed back his disappointment.

Almost a decade later and you looked almost the same as you did on that sweltering summer day he had met you. A true beauty, one that had managed to turn him into a pathetic puppy-eyed boy like it had all those years ago. His enamorment with you, something he desperately tried to conceal from your glaring eyes, watching him over the newspaper in your hands.

With a roll of his shoulders, Tommy placed the can of beans back onto its dusty shelf, gold ring you had offered him all those years ago catching his eye. The same gold ring that had made its way across each growing finger, until it sat comfortably on his pinky.

" Packet of Sweet Aftons" he cleared his throat as you pulled your head up from the newspaper, forcefully folding its flimsy pages in half Tommy was sure would see the side of his face if he didn't say anything, if he didn't apologise for his small detour into you that morning.

" Of course...sir" your forced smile came with a hefty amount of exaggerated politeness that didn't go amiss by his sniggering brothers stood behind him.

" I erh, I didn't see you there...this morning, that is" he cleared his throat as you stepped onto the small wooden stool to the shelf of neatly arranged boxed cigarettes. The hung mirror reflecting off the wall, capturing Tommy elbowing his giggling brothers who were intent on making your reunion as painful as they possibly could for him.

" I would've stopped, but we were in a hurry" Tommy refrained from reminding you of who he was on a whim that you'd save him from further embarrassment when you finally recognised him. Or so he hoped.

" Five pence" you slammed the cardboard packet of rolled tobacco onto the counter, unimpressed with the strangers' attempts at a half-assed apology.

"Right" another wave of disappointment quietened his voice as he jostled in his suit trousers for the brassy coins.

" It's usually on the house, love" Johns ill timed remark left Tommy internally crippling at the smirk growing on your lips.

" That so?" your brows raised at the youngest's nodding head as you tossed each coin into the silver dipped till.

" Have a nice day, gentlemen" you shot a pursed smile at Tommy's lingering stare as you shut the metal draw with a loud clang.

With a knitted brow you watched each sharply dressed man leave the small corner shop, when the clouds parted, capturing the illuminated face of the sole culprit to your bad day. The blues of his eyes and freckled face causing a forgotten memory to emerge in the forefront of your searching mind. One you had no time to puzzle together when the hollering voice of your boss suddenly boomed in your ear.

" Oh bloody Christ! Jesus bloody Christ, Y/N!" your boss waddled towards you, your and Tommy's mutual gaze broken as he strolled past the shop window out of sight.

" What have you gone and done, you silly girl?" your employer paced back and forth, eyes nervously darting to and from the bustling street outside.

" Made you five pence is what I've done" you protested, hands coming down onto your hips with a knitted brow of confusion at his unexpected reaction at you doing your job.

" You're gonna have to go give them their money back. And...and apologise!" your mumbling boss brushed the film of sweat from his brow, fumbling fingers pulling the knobbly ended leaver to open the till.

" And why would I do that?" you watched him turn your hand in a panic, placing more than double the amount of the sale in your palm.

" You may be new here, but you'd be wise to learn about the people who run this shit hole we call home before you lose your eyes" your boss spoke of the emerging razor gang that had begun to slowly gain notoriety in the Birmingham district.

" And who might those people be?" your rolling eyes at his exaggerated worry about a group of petty chancers had you huffing as you pulled your coat over your shoulders, when he grabbed hold of your arm, whispering the name of the cutthroat gang you had encountered.

" The Peaky Blinders, that's who"

With stomping feet and locks of blowing hair trailing behind you in the bitter wind, you marched through the sludge of Small Heath to the pub the locals called the Garrison on the orders of your boss.

" Come on..." you grunted, straining to open the heavy doors of the tavern that's hinges had frozen in the frosty weather when you unceremoniously flew into the smoke-clouded pub with a tumble.

" Great" you mumbled under your breath at the murmur of low chuckles, the crowd of eyes glaring over their shoulders at your dramatic entrance.

Head held high above each following stare, you sought out the man you had been begrudgingly forced to apologise to. The very same man you found smirking at you over his pint of ale in a dimly lit corner of the pub.

" I hope you don't think I'm gonna pull out the red carpet for you" your apology fell short as you tossed the pennies onto the wooden table, fearless of him and his family's growing status in the town, having already lived a hardened childhood among petty criminals such as himself.

"Keep it. Buy a toffee apple" a boyish smile peaked at the corner of his mouth as he pushed the money back across the table to you. His attempts to refresh your memory only leaving you with a tilting head of confusion at his peculiar suggestion.

" You don't remember me, do you Y/N?" your brow scrunched upon hearing your name, when your attentions darted to the sound of a spinning coin coming to a stop, to the pinky-ringed finger tapping against its bronze printed front that suddenly caused a wave of memories to hurtle back to you about the boy you had shared a fleeting teen romance with.

Tommy Shelby. Your summer love.

*I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter in the comments below 💚*

[Next part]

Tag list: @mischievouslittlecreature @peakyswritings @jbrownta @youngbananamilkshake @meadowshelby

@dragonsneversharetheirtreasure @novashelby

#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby series #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby angst #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders series #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader insert #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x fem!reader #tommy shelby x female reader #cillian murphy

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crassstitchbeetch · 5 months ago

Text

bee’s summer of stitching

ahoy! thank you for bearing with while i’ve been quiet here! i’ve been pretty busy. i’ve been using my stitching to unwind and calm down, and i’ve got through a bunch of work in the summer. here’s a rundown for your reading pleasure:

the only way to begin is by beginning | stitched by me on 18 ct | i LOVE gamechanger and i loved stitching this one!

ceasefire now! | stitched by me on 14 or 16 ct | good to spend time doing at the encampment. this pattern, as well as the other free palestine patterns, are freely available with an option to donate but honestly just donate to a gofundme

i've had ENOUGH aroace pattern | stitched by me on 18 ct | this took about a month to stitch and was really simple once the outline was done! this will look really cute on the wall near my aroace flag !

devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes | stitched by me on 18 ct | the pinks looked brighter than the pattern but i loved it! i’ve spend this summer working on my thesis so i’ve been drawn to simple designs and this was perfect. i also backstitched the font and border to make the project last longer (so i didn’t get hyperfixated on a new pattern)

the children yearn for the mines | stitched be me on 14(?) ct | i started this one earlier this year, but finished it this summer. got super close to the edge there but i’ve stolen @jennystudy’s technique of putting masking tape on the edges to prevent fraying, so it was all good!

take me back to the coconut tree | stitched by Pax on 18 ct | Pax is my flatmate and i got it into cross stitch over the summer. when i asked them for a review of the stitch, it said, “um… it was pretty fun. except for the bit where i didn’t have one colour because we went all the way to the craft store and i didn’t write it down so i didn’t get it. it was a good stitch.”

we all got a little barbie in us | stitched by me on 18 ct | like minecraft, i started this one a while ago (edit: a whole year! holy shit!) and came back to it later in the summer. this one is Lorge holy shit i did not expect it to be so big!

last, but not least:

under all conditions, i will persevere | stitched by me on 14 ct (grey) | i literally started this three days ago when the draft was already in my folder but i got through it q u i c k l y so i added it! this one is so cute, i’ve been wanting to stitch it since i designed it but never *quite* got round to it. this pattern is very special to me because of the damned stubbornness of dandelions and because they signal the end of winter, which is my least favourite season. i just love them

thus concludes the season of stitching i hope u enjoyed my silly little recap !!

#i am excited to put these all on my wall when i get round to it #i have done nothing summery this summer i have only done thesis and stitching so i have a lot to show for it #bee’s season of stitching #bee’s patterns #cross stitch pattern #cross stitch #bee’s patterns out of the hive

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superblysubpar · 1 year ago

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hi !! could i get prompt 70 ("you're being shy now? really?") with eddie !

Anyone else's home plagued with the game star field currently? Just mine? Anyways, I hope you enjoy the fic that came from my own frustrations of being ignored by a video game. I actually truly don't know what came over me with this. Thank you for requesting 💛

You’re not sure what possessed you to do something about it tonight, and really, you were being extremely unfair. He’d given you ample warning about this commitment, and it was rare he devoted so much time to this sort of thing. Never this intense, never this distracted by something other than you.

His dark gray sweats cover muscular thighs, spread wide over the couch cushions he’s sunk into. Ankles exposed where his tube socks bunched, you fight a smile when you see his heels bouncing up and down in an anxious movement. His dark curls cascade over his shoulders, shiny and looking too soft from the shower he took when he got home - suspiciously smelling like coconut and the ocean - smelling like your hair. The white tee he wears tonight is yours too, a thrift find you’d held up to him proudly a few weeks ago. The red and yellow logo of Jurassic Park faded and pulled tight over his chest.

His fingers curl, moving swiftly, wrists and forearms flexing. The muscles in his shoulders and back move under the white fabric in a taunting way. He hums along to your Fleetwood Mac playing over the speakers, despite claiming to not enjoy their music. Plump pink lips purse, the lyrics of Gypsy trailing off as he leans forward, elbows on his knees. His bright, brown eyes blink, widening at the screen.

The controller shifts in his hands, fingers precise and big, making it look like a child’s toy in his grip. Your foot almost stomps, he hasn’t even glanced at you since you’ve entered the room.

This means war.

Your hands fall to the top of his shoulders, thumbs rubbing into his neck gently and he hums appreciatively, rolling his head to the side.

Kissing the apple of his cheek that he tilts up for you, you lean over the back of the couch. Your lips travel down, skimming over his jaw in another tender kiss. The soft scrape of stubble beneath your mouth has you sighing, eucalyptus and the woods and spice linger on his skin, making your thighs press together.

Your hands slip down hard pecs, kisses traveling lower over his neck.

“Hey baby,” Eddie hums, eyes unwavering from the screen still, “What’s up?”

Lips pausing their assault, you let your nose drag across his skin, inhaling as your palms press flat against his stomach. You pout into his collar, “Why does anything have to be up? Can’t a girl just say hi to her guy?”

Eddie’s breath sucks in with a small chuckle as your fingers scrape at the side of his ribs. He kisses at your temple briefly. “Hi.”

Your fingers slip lower, brushing over the soft skin exposed between the rolled band of his sweats and the white shirt. Pads of your fingers moving slowly back and forth, you smile into his neck when he shivers.

“How’s starfleet?” You nip at his ear, fingers toying with the band of his sweats.

“Starfield baby. Starfleet is Star Trek.”

You roll your eyes. Despite the thing stealing him away from you, you do love how excited he gets explaining something to you.

“Sorry. How’s starfield, did you win yet?” Your apology pressed into his cheek with another kiss as your fingers scrape at the dark trail of hair disappearing into his sweats.

“Well, you don’t really win, sweetheart. Wanna watch for a bit? I just got to this part and…” his excitement trails off as your palm rubs against the half-hard bulge beneath the gray fabric, growing quickly under your slow and teasing movements.

“And?” Your single word question drips with faux innocence.

“Shit, uh, and, I…” His fingers slip on the controller.

Point one - you.

Your own fingers go back to teasing at the band of sweats, and as they finally dip lower, you have to suppress the moan that’s desperate to sneak past your lips when they feel no other fabric between your skin and his.

Eddie Munson you no underwear wearing slut.

Mouth pressing kisses up and down his neck and behind his ear, fingers wrapping around his hard length. “Come on, handsome. Don’t you wanna tell me all about this game that’s stolen me from you?”

“Aw, you jeal - baby,” the term of endearment a broken moan as his head finally turns to see you.

Point two - you.

The victory is short lived though when the familiar pew-pew-pews echo from the TV and he curses under his breath. At least his eyes on the screen seem strained now, ignoring you a somewhat tough choice to make.

You move from your spot behind the couch, his adams apple bobbing as you take a step closer.

Eddie shakes his head, narrowing his eyes at the screen, determined to stay focused. “You’re mean.” His tongue licks over his lip as he swallows harshly again.

“Me?” You question with a dramatic pout, crawling over the far cushion towards him slowly.

His old Hellfire shirt adorns the top half of your body, red lace cutting high on your ass, disappearing under the hem of his ratty high school shirt.

Eddie laughs, a desperate sound as he shakes his head again. “I’m not doing this, this isn’t fair.”

“Oh? You’re not doing this, huh?” Your eyebrows raise, hand trailing up the inside of his thigh and making him squirm, soliciting a groan. One that rumbles deep in his chest but he cuts it off before the satisfied smirk fully forms on your lips.

“Nope.” He pops the ‘p’, but his eyes quickly dart to the side, taking in the small glimpse of your backside he can find before returning to the screen.

Point three - Starfleet or whatever the shit it’s called.

Dammit. This calls for drastic measures.

Your bare leg hitches over his thigh, careful to keep your body and head tilted so he can still see his stupid video game.

Palms press to his chest as your hips roll against his thigh, you smooth a kiss to his shoulder. “You don’t mind if I sit here, do you?”

Pulling away, you put on a show, blinking your eyes innocently, rolling your hips and exaggerating your gasp of pleasure from the friction (because really it does feel good, but when it comes to Eddie, the more into the theatrics you are, the better).

He clicks his tongue, pushing it into his cheek as he keeps his eyes on the screen, “Go ahead princess.”

You scoot higher up his thigh, pressing yourself down harder with the next roll as your eyes flutter. Your lips nip at his jaw as you breathe heavily, “Princesses get whatever they want right? Just ask their knight in shining armor to jump and he says how high?”

“I-” he swallows, eyes blinking rapidly. You smirk at the way you can see his dick twitch under his sweats again. Of course the princess shit gets him.

Your lips press hot kisses over his neck, moving up until you’re at his ear, “Need you to fuck me, Teddy.”

He groans, the nickname on your lips too sweet and too pleading for him to ignore anymore. The controller falls from his fingers as he grabs at your thighs greedily. He pulls you fully over his lap, fingernails digging into the dough he loves and scratching up, higher and higher till he’s at your waist. He snaps the red lace on your hip before his fingers trace the curve of it back down. He presses three fingers over the wet patch of fabric and you swallow his moan with your lips.

Eddie barely kisses you, pulling away and shoving two fingers to your lips with a gasped, “Open.”

Not needing to be told twice, your lips part, taking his fingers inside, tongue swirling around them as your cheeks hollow. He watches with hooded eyes, pulling the digits from you with a pop and shoving the elastic of his sweats down. Wet fingers over his cock, your saliva mixing with precum that leaks from him already. Eddie yanks you down with one hand, his other pulling the stretch of damp lace to the side, his tip nudging at your entrance making you whimper.

Your head falls into the crook of his neck as he pushes in, the filthy slide of him against your tight walls and the lewd sound of your slick as he draws out and thrusts back in sharply making your theatrics and confident facade crumble immediately.

“Fuck, so spoiled baby,” he hisses, palms making a satisfying smack against your ass before squeezing at each cheek, moving you up and down on him forcefully.

It feels like he’s puncturing a lung with each thrust getting deeper, worried he’s actually mad at you until he whispers into your jaw, “Princesses get spoiled though, yeah?”

Only able to whimper and nod as the smack of your thighs meeting his gets louder and louder.

“You’re being shy now? Really? After that show you just put on?”

Heat radiates throughout your entire body, fingers curling into the cotton of his sides as your breath quickens, the familiar coil tightening in your stomach snaps as he pulls out of you suddenly.

He smirks at your whine and taps your thigh, nodding towards the screen. “Turn around, sweetheart.”

You blink, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth and stand, legs shaking despite not reaching an orgasm. You turn and he pulls you back to him causing a surprised squeak to escape you.

He slides back into you with a grunt, his forehead pressing to your spine until you’re fully seated. He kisses your cheek, voice full of the kind of rasp he usually gets after singing that he knows gets you all hot and bothered as he says, “Princesses also need to learn their lessons. So you’re going to sit here and not move and wait your turn for attention from Teddy.”

Your cheeks heat at his condescending tone and the use of his nickname, like you should be embarrassed - even though the name turns him on. Your fingers curl into fists on your thighs as his dick twitches inside you.

Eddie grabs the controller, hooking his chin over your shoulder, and hits unpause.

All the points - Eddie.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fic #stranger things fanfic #superbly subpar eddie spice

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chasingstardustandmoonbeams · 8 months ago

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I was wondering if you could write headcanons for the Bone Boys as dads. ( you can pick one or multiple) (ie. Seeley, Jack, Lance, Zack, or any of the squinterns) I loved your hodgins fic sm <3 take your time!!! Thank you!!!

Oh, I love you for asking this 💕Any opportunity to write for my Jeffersonian family. And my squinterns? You didn't have to ask twice. If anyone want a part 2 let me know. I didn’t include a bunch of squints or my boy Aubrey

Seeley - over protective, caring, goofy, stern, willing to do whatever he needs to to make his kid happy. I mean, just look at Parker - that kid turned out so well adjusted and happy. Booth just loves him to pieces - and Christine? Apple of his eye. Any kid this man has will want for nothing and know nothing but pure unrelenting love. Sunday afternoons of throwing a baseball around - I don't care what gender, any child of Booth will know how to throw a curve ball. And the hockey games? Oh, the kid(s) will be wearing Flyers jerseys before they can walk.

Lance - we were robbed. Robbed of seeing this beautiful man raising a child. Sweets would be such a good dad too. Caring, affectionate, understanding, patient, hilarious, and with one disappointed look have his kids in line apologizing.

Oh, I could just imagine the first few weeks of sleepless nights. Lance, being so excited, but also so terrified of messing up. He knows what its like to have shitty people looking after you, and he'd never want to be that way. But he also knows what it's like to have two loving (amazing) people take care of him and love him with unconditional love.

This of course, would cause him to take the brunt of the middle of the night feedings/check-ins. Lance, sitting in a rocking chair, softly singing Coconut by Harry Nilsson. It's no surprise when the kid knows all the words before they know the alphabet fully.

Just, ugh, nothing but love and laughter.

Any child of Jack's will be showered with affection, over the top gifts (what do you mean a thousand dollar playhouse is too much? It has a fully functional kitchen and a mini lab!), and a love and appreciation for all the beautiful things around them (bugs and all).

"Whose my little prince/princess of the lab?"

Jack would realize his mistake during the preteen phase. "Honestly, I don't know where the sarcasm is coming from. They're too quick for their own good." This of course, would be met with eye rolls, and really? No DNA test needed here. King of the Lab? More like King of Sass.

Jack would love to take the kid(s) to the lab. "This is a Carabidae, they belong to the Adephaga." He'd love to see their little faces light up with wonder. He'd never feel more elated then hearing the little giggles when he puts the beetle into his kids tiny waiting hand.

Wendell would be the sweetest most down to Earth dad. No child of Wendell's would ever know what it means to struggle - not if he had anything to say about it. That doesn't mean his kids wouldn't know the meaning of hard work - that's the one thing Wendell prides himself in. Working hard and knowing you deserved to be there.

Considering his own mother induced labor on a roller coaster, I'm sure Wendell would be there for unconventional methods. His kids would also know how to defend themselves - verbal and physically (No one would ever talk down to his kids and get away with it. And boxers fracture? His kids would know how to throw a punch and mean it - "only if they deserve it, you can't just go around just starting fights with anybody."

His favorite memory would be the first time he took his kid(s) onto the rink. Seeing them persevere and keep going until they got the hang of it - "That's right, you got it!"

Wendell would raise his kids to be prepared for absolutely anything. Car broke down? They would know how to fix the engine. Someone broke their heart? Cry, feel it all, then take a deep breath and keep going. Because no matter what - he'll always be there to back them up.

Vincent would be a dotting dad. A little over the top, but that's why his kids would love him. Any child of Vincent's would know more random facts than any other five year old. The calls from the kindergarten teacher would always be...interesting. "Yes, yes, I can see why talking about the amount of insect legs found in chocolate would be upsetting to the other children."

That of course would not and could not stop him from prattling out more facts every night. Facts were his love language - his bonding time. Every night, without fail, he'd tuck his little one into bed, rambling about any random thought that popped into his head until his child fell asleep.

Colin, sweet morbid hopeless Colin. Would have no idea what to do with a child until one evening when he hasn't sleep for four days straight - he can barely see, his mind and body more fuzzy than normal.

He's looking hopelessly at his baby in his arms, "What? what do you need from me?" His voice growing more weary and desperate. Until he see's it, a smile - then a small gurgle that could be mistaken for laughter. "Oh, you like that, huh, my misery?" He's welcomed by another gurgle and big beautiful eyes blinking slowly back at him. He feels it then - the warmth- the happiness creeping up in his bones. He's got a shot now - at something he never thought about before.

Oh, his kid wants to paint his nails? Sure, he's always got the time, and maybe some tips, a little sloppy on the corner there. It's okay- you're only six we'll get you there, kid.

Colin would be the type of dad to always complain about being dragged to something, but he would secretly love it. Sappy teen movie playing in the background? No, he's not interested. He's just going to stand here for 30 minutes eyes glued to the screen. No, he doesn't want to sit down. Wait- rewind - what are they arguing about? He missed it.

Colin would have a little mini me - both the complete opposite of him and so similar it was scary. His little partner in crime.

Zack would like to think he knows exactly what he's doing but he has no idea. He buys every parenting book known to man. Spends hours of research looking up different child development theories.

No, the baby did not in fact laugh. It's only been a month, a baby can't laugh until at least 5 months. He states that firmly until the next few days when Zack swears up and down he made the baby laugh doing an impression of Hodgins. I know I said that, but perhaps the baby just has my intelligence and early development.

Zack will be there front row and center for every recital, game, or event. Doesn't matter if he has no idea what the rules are or what is going on. He'll be there cheering from the side lines.

His favorite afternoon snack to make? Macaroni and cheese.

Zack is just happy to have made his family a little bit bigger. He never thought he'd be proud of anything outside of the Jeffersonian, but he was happily proven wrong everyday.

#did i go overboard? maybe but I have no regrets #bonestv #bones tv show imagine #bonestv imagine #seeley booth #zack addy #lance sweets #jack hodgins #colin fisher #wendell bray #vincent nigel murray

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piratecaptainscaptainpirates · 6 months ago

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Primer on writing Ed's hair care!

I love writing about Ed's hair! He has lots of beautiful hair, and it's obviously very well taken-care-of. I love reading fics that include Ed's hair care routines, too, but I know that a lot of white authors might not be confident about writing a man of color caring for his hair.

So, I wanted to put out a quick cheat sheet to help! This isn't an in-depth guide, but I hope it's a good primer so you can confidently include scenes touching on Ed's hair care. I really recommend checking out some natural hair subreddits if you want to go more in-depth so you can get ideas for the everyday frustrations and styles Ed might have.

Common misconceptions:

Ed will not need to wash his hair as often as you might assume he should. Natural hair textures tend to get very dry and brittle when washed too frequently because over-washing removes protective oils from our scalp and hair and dries it out. Ed probably only needs to wash his hair a couple times a week at most (he'll have figured out what works for him and his hair). This doesn't mean he's dirty or unclean, and it doesn't mean he won't shower or clean himself - he'll just probably put his hair up in a shower cap to keep it dry when he showers on days that aren't wash days.

Ed's hair care will look different than Stede's, and if he wants to let Stede help him care for his hair, he'll probably need to teach him how. Ed might have different brushes for detangling and styling his hair, and they'll definitely look different from Stede's. He also won't be able to use the same products as Stede does, or he might damage or over-dry his hair because many hair products meant for white/straight hair will over-strip the oils from natural hair.

A few things to avoid: Ed's hair is always depicted in the show as clean, well-styled, and perfectly presentable. It is not wild, untamed, or unmanageable just because it's got some texture.

Everyday care!

On the daily, Ed will probably rely on a few products to help him keep his hair looking beautiful. Coconut/castor oil is a go-to for locking in moisture (he can also use moisturizing creams or sprays in a modern AU), twisting creams and butters will help him style his hair into twists and braids, detangling sprays and/or creams help with bad hair days, and a curl-defining spray will help him get his hair looking great in the mornings.

On wash days, Ed will want to use a hydrating shampoo and a nourishing conditioner. Between wash days, leave-in conditioners will help him keep his hair moisturized and control frizz (leave-in conditioners don't get rinsed out, and he'll typically apply them after lightly wetting his hair).

Ed will likely want to put his hair into a protective style before bed so it doesn't get tangled and frizzy during the night. Putting his hair up in a sleep bonnet can help protect his hair while he sleeps, but as a fellow guy with longer hair, I can guess he won't like how he'll wake up with a bunch of his hair looking and feeling flat from sleeping on it. Putting his hair up in braids or twists are great ways to protect it while he sleeps so he wakes up with defined, happy hair! Pro-tip: he probably knows that wetting his hair before putting it into protective styles will help define his curls.

Around the water!

In canon settings or in AUs where Ed lives on or visits the beach, hair care is especially important! Salt air and swimming in the ocean can be very hard on natural hair, and Ed will want to be diligent about moisturizing to help control frizz and keep his hair from drying out.

Before swimming, if he can, there are a few things Ed can do to keep his hair happy. Natural hair really absorbs water, so wetting it before a swim can limit the amount of saltwater (or, in a pool, chlorine) his hair is able to soak up. It's also a good idea to put his hair in a protective style like braids before swimming.

After being in the water, again, Ed will want to wet his hair! After a swim in salt water, rinsing his hair with cool fresh water will keep his hair much happier.

If he's going to be swimming a lot, Ed will want to be very intentional with keeping his hair moisturized! Leave-in conditioners will be his best friend.

Why does this matter?

For people of color, our hair really matters. Our hair is an important way we express ourselves and feel connected to our culture. And controlling natural hair is one way that colonized societies continue to oppress and marginalize people of color. We're often policed and exoticized for our hair - like how the rich assholes on the party boat in s1e5 tried to touch Ed's beard without his permission. Taking care with how we depict Ed's hair isn't just fun and interesting, it helps make this fandom a more welcoming, inclusive space for fans of color.

#ofmd #our flag means death #and i'd love to hear any additions from other poc as well if you got em! i'm just one black guy #and i enlisted like all my friends to help me come to a consensus here lol

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the-flaminhos · 5 months ago

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Okay hi wow it’s almost been a full month since I’ve made my blog and god have a I had a good time. To celebrate uh TMR headcanons!!!

Brenda, Frypan, and Gally sit around the fire at the safe haven and watch everyone get fucking gone from Gallys moonshine

Newt has a tattoo on his hip just to have a tattoo on his hip

Gally has the coolest looking spider tattoo on his neck to hide the scar from the griever sting

Minho double knots his shoelaces and thinks that Thomas is an idiot for not

Thomas plays the guitar but left handed

SONYA AND NEWT MAKE EACH OTHER CARDS BECAUSE THEY NEVER WANNA FORGET EACH OTHER AGAIN.

Harriet and Minho find comfort in each other knowing the amount of responsibility each had to carry in their glade

Brenda and Frypan are roommates

Gally and Thomas call each other Eyebrows and Big eyes

Sonya, Harriet, and Aris all flat together because they realised movie night can be every night

Newt and Minho had to teach Thomas how to swim because they were sick of having to chill in the shallow parts with him

THOMAS AND NEWT START DATING BECAUSE NEWTMAS UNTIL I DIE.

Frypan had at least 4 siblings he had to look after before the maze

Aris likes cats more than dogs and all of maze A hates that but newt and MAYBE frypan cause his cat is cute

Christmas in the safe haven is just a bunch of cards, rocks, seashells, and carvings

When Minho gets drunk he gets really really cheesy and it’s absolutely hilarious

When Sonya asks for a glass of water she means a glass of ice

Minho: sweet. Newt: sour. Thomas: anything that isn’t spicy.

Gally will grab a fork, use it to take one bite, put the fork down, and then eat with his hands.

Brenda is a coconut biscuit kinda gal

When Jorge and Vince do timetables for things they just rock paper scissors their way through making it

Minho exclusively does rock as his first move and no one has figured it out yet

For shits and giggle gally will hold the door open behind him for everyone and then shut it on Thomas. He opens it and daps him up with a laugh to say sorry

When newt finally got better the maze boys did everything in their power to make sure he was comfortable

Sonya taught newt how to braid hair and now they do it together and it’s adorable

Once upon a time I stopped fucking yapping.

All my love to you <3 – Nevaya

#tmr newtmas #newtmas #the maze runner #tmr #sometimes I sit and spend hours thinking about these #this has barely scratched the surface #all my love to you

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shadowcatzone · 11 months ago

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highlights from the hcq stream as the hcq but in no particular order and from memory

_____

Blade: i got lost T-T

Jing yuan: blade, don't make me bonk you with the stop sign.

___

Dan heng: i wanna put the mask on

Jingliu: NO DON'T PUT THE MASK ON

Dan heng: :(

___

Dan heng: somebody asked "where's Baiheng" and i said "who's baiheng" and everyone got mad at me

Jing yuan: yeah, you fucked up.

___

Dan heng: but why can't i put the mask on?

Jingliu: you know what? Do it. Put the mask on.

___

Jing yuan: blade do you get easily scared?

Blade: ...

Blade, suddenly very yingxing: depending??

___

Jing yuan: *sneaking in*

Jingliu: *sneaking in*

Jing yuan: START THE FUCKING SHIP!!!

Jingliu: *quiet laughter*

___

Dan heng: somebody- don't be surprised if i suddenly speak in third person, but people blocked me from saying "i" so-

Jing yuan: "help! Dan heng is in trouble!"

Dan heng: "Dan heng is dying!"

___

Jing yuan: alright we're going in experimentation...

Jing yuan: ...

Jing yuan: ...oh it's already orbiting this moon-

___

Dan heng: AAH!! THERE'S A SPIDER!!

Jing yuan: alright, i'm out.

___

Jingliu: i've got a lovely bunch of coconuts~

___

Dan heng: oh there's a spider and- i think- it just killed jingliu.

___

Blade: listen, i did good.

Jing yuan: you did great.

Jing yuan: proud of you buddy!

___

Jing yuan: the ghost girl was following me.

Dan heng: somebody said the ghost is baiheng

___

Jing yuan: hey- i'm gonna stay on the ship, just in case.

All: ok.

___

Jingliu: Don't step on the mine

Blade: oh, you mean this mine? *steps right on it*

Dan heng: No-!

___

Jingliu: Uuhhh Dan heng put the mask on-

Jing yuan: alright let's leave.

_____

Might

Editt

These

#i'm eating gilbird #honkai star rail #hsr shitpost #hsr incorrect quotes #high cloud quintet #hsr blade #hsr jing yuan #hsr jingliu #hsr dan heng

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skylarsblue · 2 years ago

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✦Call of Duty Bio Headcanons✦

(I know they have canon ages and heights and stuff, but listen. It's fiction, and I think I know better(/j). You can disagree, but these are my opinions. Also, obviously, not all of the info has changed.)

✧John Price✧

Age: 42 y.o Height: 6'2" Pronouns: He/Him Sexuality: "Sexy-Is-Sexy" (Or Pansexual) Middle Name: Samuel Likes: Whiskey, vintage radios, old westerns, horses, & mint ice cream. Dislikes: Streaming services, cigarettes(ironic), spicy food, dust, & cottage cheese. Birthday: January 1st Zodiac: Capricorn -Trivia- -Allergic to cats and didn't know until he moved out because his mother had like, four. Grew up around them his entire childhood and was honestly devastated when he realized they make him sick cause he loves'em. -He was definitely a fuck boy in high school/college. Not an asshole one, he made his intentions up front and he was overall sweet, but he didn't wanna be tied down. Ironic given how he ended up wanting the exact opposite later on. -Wishes he took better care of his teeth as a kid. They look great now but he has five fillings in his molars and one (now replaced), silver tooth all the way in the back. Phobia: Amenisphobia; The fear of amnesia Neuro...: Neurotypical

✧Kyle "Gaz" Garrick✧

Age: 26 y.o Height: 6'0" Pronouns: He/Him (I heavily support the trans!Gaz HC) Sexuality: Bisexual w/ a male preference Middle Name: Dylin Likes: Hot chocolate, the smell of lavender, coconut, licorice toffee, & nostalgic music. Dislikes: Milk, politics(irony again), Winter, grocery shopping, & spiders. Birthday: September 5th Zodiac: Virgo -Trivia- -Second oldest of four children, the only boy. He's a family man when it comes to his siblings, but not so much when it comes to his parents. Barely present father and a stressed out mother create for a shaky relationship with them. -Cannot cook to save his life. Man lives off of delivery, MREs, and cup noodles. He knows like...four dishes, and most of them are really simple. -Struggles decorating and making outfits cause he likes tons of different aesthetics. Everything from Scene Kid(for his inner teen) to streetwear. His version of housed decor are a bunch of plants. (Fake so they don't die when he's on deployment) Phobia: Arachnophobia; fear of arachnids/spiders. Neuro...: Neurodivergent (Dyslexia)

✧Johnny "Soap" MacTavish✧

Age: 29 y.o Height: 5'8" Pronouns: He/Him Sexuality: Omnisexual Middle Name: Neil (heh) Likes: Knickknacks, loud music, punk aesthetic, chickens, & football(aka Soccer for us pathetic Americans). Dislikes: Silence, sitting still, vague answers, being told what to do, & big dogs. Birthday: August 12th Zodiac: Leo -Trivia- -Constantly on & off with a caffeine addiction. He'll do really good about just drinking water, then he'll have one energy drink and he's fucked it all up again. -The scar on his chin is from a dog, the scar in his eyebrow is from a fight he got in as a teenager. He got in a lot of trouble as a teen. -Borderline pyromaniac, honestly. Hyperfixated on fire as a kid and now he's really happy to be a bombtech. Bro loves blowing shit up. Phobia: Cynophobia; fear of dogs. Neuro...: Neurodivergent (ADHD, hyperlexia)

✧Simon "Ghost" Riley✧

Age: 36 y.o Height: 6'4" Pronouns: He/It (Using "it" makes him seem more ominous, which he thinks is fun) Sexuality: Gay or Homoflexible, demisexual/demiromantic probably Middle Name: Achilles Likes: Birds, alternative indie music, dark chocolate, Victorian architecture, & murder mystery books. Dislikes: Snakes, graveyards, the dark(when it's completely pitch black), 99% of physical touch, & fluorescent lights. Birthday: December 30th Zodiac: Capricorn -Trivia- -He'll never admit it but he loves babies. They're super tiny and super cute, and Simon's heart always melts when one's around. Alas, he's also terrified of scaring them or getting attached, so he avoids babies as best he can. Can't have people thinking he's soft. -Makes the best steak in Manchester. Sometimes his seasoning is bland but the meat itself is perfection, you won't find any better. Melts in your mouth every time. It's a steak equivalent of 6 orgasms. It IS an orgasm. He makes great fucking steak. -Isn't fond of pure silence like Soap, but he doesn't often wanna fill it with loud sounds. He has a playlist of softer, more instrumental songs for this. Or he'll listen to nature sounds. He likes quiet, just not silent. Phobia: Taphephobia; the fear of being buried alive. Neuro...: Neurodivergent (Autistic, dyscalculia)

✧Alejandro Vargas✧

Age: 38 y.o Height: 5'11" Pronouns: He/Him Sexuality: Bisexual (Maybe Poly? He's not sure) Middle Name: N/A Likes: Hot drinks, the smell of roses, his nieces/nephews, physical affection, & cowboy hats. Dislikes: Sweaty palms, tourist-y Americans, caramel sauce, white-lies, & the feeling of glue. Birthday: March 25th Zodiac: Aries -Trivia- -Was with Valeria for awhile, but differences, stress, and Valeria discovering she was pretty gay broke them up. They had some tension, but he wasn't bitter towards her. Until she betrayed them, of course. -Was actually the last of his friend group to lose his virginity. He's a passionate, flirty man, but he's not throwing that kind of trust out willy-nilly. He had a few relationships but didn't reach that point until he was like, 19, about to turn 20. He asked a friend to share the moment with him. ...a close friend. -Cannot function in the cold at all. And his definition of cold is 21 degrees Celsius. (70 Fahrenheit for us Americans) He layers and complains all day, he's got a fuckin' heated blanket. A heated blanket owner in fucking MEXICO. Phobia: Coulrophobia; the fear of clowns Neuro...: Neurotypical

✧Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra✧

Age: 38 y.o Height: 5'9" Pronouns: He/Him Sexuality: Bisexual (Also maybe poly but he's very hesitant about it) Middle Name: N/A Likes: Ice baths, windchimes, baked sweets(mostly pie), clean handwriting, & naps on the couch. Dislikes: Cutting onions, heavy blankets, confrontation(with like, loved ones. Not on duty, obviously), slow walkers, & reptiles. Birthday: June 20th Zodiac: Gemini -Trivia- -Super good at singing, but he never does, because he's embarrassed. His mother would often encourage him to sing when he was younger at family gatherings, and now he cringes when someone hears him sing and comments on it. -His house is full of fans. Some rooms have more than one. They're running basically all the time, as well as the AC. Sometimes he has to get a family member to go home and turn them off when he's on a long mission. -He knew Alejandro before Alejandro knew him. When they were kids, Rudy was shy and had some problems with his health(exercise induced asthma mostly), so he didn't go out of his way to befriend other kids much. But he was a people watcher, and Alejandro was the most fun to watch. They actually met because one of Alejandro's friends pointed it out and called him creepy, only for Alejandro to defend him. Then they became super close friends! Phobia: Bufonophobia; the fear of toads Neuro...: Neurodivergent (Autistic, echolalia)

✧Valeria Garza✧

Age: 39 y.o Height: 5'7" Pronouns: She/It Sexuality: Sapphic Demiromantic Middle Name: N/A Likes: Expensive paintings, perfect nail-polish, sandalwood incense, lemon water, & flowers. Dislikes: Shaving, back-talk, tiny text on documents or books, chunky rings, & pineapple. Birthday: January 23rd Zodiac: Aquarius -Trivia- -Has a pull to religious imagery in a darker light because of religious trauma. Roman Catholicism is quite common in Mexico, but her parents were really heavy about it. To the point it makes Valeria bitter over it. She has a rocky relationship with God, but finds Mary comforting. Because when she was brought to church, but wanted to hide, she'd hide beside a Mary statue in a corner. -She has an odd sleep schedule. She often only gets four hours of sleep, but she doesn't seem to be tired at any point. In fact, the more sleep she gets, the more lethargic she is that day. -Her first girlfriend was when she was still in the military. A traveling medic from Italy. Unfortunately, the flame came and went thanks to the medic having to leave. Valeria has moved on, but she does mourn their lost time sometimes and has a little dream of meeting her again one day. Though she knows that's not practical. Phobia: Ecclesiophobia; the fear of church Neuro...: Neurotypical

✧Alex Keller✧

Age: 36 y.o Height: 6'1" Pronouns: He/Him Sexuality: Heteroflexible Middle Name: Sebastian (he's embarrassed about this) Likes: Golden retrievers, bad jokes, most seafood, provolone cheese, & hummus. Dislikes: Thanksgiving, the sound of rubbing styrofoam, being told to "do what he wants"(makes him feel aimless), tobacco smell, & overzealousness. (He likes simplicity...excluding his tattoos) Birthday: December 2nd Zodiac: Sagittarius -Trivia- -He doesn't really talk to his family excluding holidays. BUT, he will always keep in contact with his older sister, and his niece by proxy. They're the only two that made him feel wanted in his family. He wasn't abused in his mind, but he wasn't paid attention to much either. He always seemed overshadowed by something/someone, and as he got older, he got tired of feeling like an outcast in his own family. So he slowly drifted away and he goes on the guidance of orders he receives. -Probably born in a small town in a place like Utah. He's got small-town-mid-south manners. But I like to imagine he spent a lot of his time in California too, he seems like he'd enjoy the sun and the ocean. -Picks up languages really quick, somehow. At least, when he's around people that speak it. If he had to learn purely from books, he'd have choppy speech at best. He's fluent in English, Spanish, and Arabic. Also, knows a bit of ASL, but he's still working on that one. Phobia: Lilapsophobia; the fear of hurricanes/tornadoes Neuro...: Neurodivergent (Hyperlexia, SPD)

✧Farah Ahmed Karim✧

Age: 30 y.o Height: 5'5" Pronouns: She/Her Sexuality: Aliquaromantic Demi-Bisexual Middle Name: N/A Likes: Poppies, motorcycles, pretty much any food with chickpeas, super spicy stuff, and the sky at dusk. Dislikes: Overly salty things, riddles, genuine cockiness, the feeling of rust(that includes on spoons...), & long winded responses. Birthday: July 1st Zodiac: Cancer -Trivia- -Keeps her hair long despite the fact it's annoying to deal with sometimes. Purely for sentimental reasons. To her, it represents the growth she's had as a person. A far cry from the buzz-cut she was forced into when under someone else's control. So she refuses to cut it. -She will never use it, and she despises it, but she's semi-fluent in Russian. Being around it for so long made her pick it up. It works well if she needs to translate, but she'll be caught dead before she speaks Russian. -Honestly can't cook for shit. She doesn't know what the hell she's doing in the kitchen and basically relies on MREs or the skills of others. She's not a picky eater though, and she'll always finish what's put in front of her, even if she's not fond of it. Phobia: Agniophobia; fear of choking Neuro...: Neurotypical

✧Konig✧

Age: 28 y.o Height: 6'10" Pronouns: He/They Sexuality: Bisexual Middle Name: Obercht (Bonus)Last Name: Badubrecht Likes: Making bracelets, boxing(watching or doing), soda, heavy metal, & fresh bread. Dislikes: Certain kinds of wool, small cars, low doorframes, having to go to the medic, & the smell of hay. Birthday: March 9th Zodiac: Pisces -Trivia- -Was bullied all through high school for various things. His demeanor, his size, his hair(which was long), his cleft lip scar, etc. It took until he hit the largest growth spurt he ever had in secondary school when people began to stop poking fun, but instead avoid him. He maybe had 2-3 actual friends in his entire life before the military. And even now he mostly has acquaintances, not friends. -Doesn't talk to his mother, she was overbearing and cruel, mostly because Konig looks a lot like his father. He doesn't really talk to his father much because the man is hard to talk to. He's not completely cut off, but they are estranged. Konig's grandma hears from him almost every day, sometimes twice a day. She's a badass in her 90s who has never done him wrong, and he would blow up the entire world if anything happened to her. -Sometimes Konig gets comments that say he's got multiple personalities. (By uneducated people, clearly) Because he seems to switch dramatically between modes depending on time, place, and circumstance. Sometimes he's childish and giggly, cute even. Sometimes he's silent, unreadable, and withdrawn. And on the battlefield he's...inhuman, terrifying, and nothing short of bloodthirsty. Phobia: Equinophobia; the fear of horses. Neuro...: Neurodivergent (autistic)

#call of duty #call of duty mwii #modern warfare #captain john price #john price #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #konig call of duty #farah karim #alex keller #alejandro vargas #rodolfo rudy parra #valeria el sin nombre garza #kyle gaz garrick #gaz mw2 #soap x gaz #headcanons #call of duty headcanons

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