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Steddie Amnesia Ficlet: 2/3
-> Part 1 | Part 3 | AO3
cw: more head trauma/concussed!Steve discussions.
Steve hears Eddie call after him, but he doesn’t stop—he can’t face it. Not right now, anyway. Not when his eyes are stinging and his heart is pounding in his ears, each pulse more painful than the last. His legs take him to the building he’s supposed to go into, fueled purely by muscle memory. Not brain memory, of course, because nothing up there works properly anymore, apparently.
The Brain Injury Recovery Center.
It’s where Eddie expects him to go. He’ll catch Steve if he goes in, or he’ll wait for Steve by the doors until he comes back out—both options involve facing Eddie after Steve had made a total idiot of himself. Both feel utterly mortifying.
So he ducks into the alleyway beside the familiar brick building instead, just to catch his breath. It takes Steve longer than the average bear to sort out his feelings now, after all. Jesus, who’s he kidding? Everything seems to take him longer.
Steve feels hot tears streak down his cheeks before he angrily scrubs a sleeve over them. Of course Eddie isn’t his boyfriend. Eddie’s funny and cool and he’s in a band and he lights up every damn room he walks into—and Steve… well, maybe Steve was something a few years ago when he was in high school, and maybe he was even something before his accident, but now…
There’s a sharp clapping noise that sounds like thunder. A door slamming, Steve’s brain sluggishly supplies. It’s followed by shouting.
“Steve? Steve!” Eddie calls from somewhere on the street.
Steve’s heart feels like it’s going to fall out of his ass. His face is probably still blotchy and wet, his breathing hasn’t evened out yet and his eyes are still leaking like a goddamn faucet. He’s pathetic.
Can’t let Eddie see him like this…
He ducks behind a metal garbage bin, careful not to let anything but the bottom of his sneakers touch the sticky looking surfaces around him. It stinks, like rot.
“Steve?” Eddie’s voice echoes off of the alleyway walls. Steve claps a hand around his mouth to muffle out any of the pathetic sounds that seem determined to escape from him. So much of his body just does whatever the hell it feels like now. Out of Steve’s control, like everything else.
For a few, tense seconds, there’s silence. Eddie’s listening for him, maybe. Steve shuts his eyes and waits him out.
It feels like an eternity before he hears Eddie’s hurried, retreating footsteps, continuing his shouting for Steve. He sounds almost as panicked as Steve feels. Almost.
Steve gives a noisy, wet sniff and does one final scrub of his face before getting to his feet. He starts walking.
As he goes deeper into the alleyway, he thinks back on all the things he’s been wrong about. The fact that Eddie had some of his band t-shirts mixed in with Steve’s clothes… well, that was because they were both guys who wore about the same size, and Eddie left his shit everywhere. It’s no wonder some of his stuff got mixed into their laundry. And the times Eddie’s driven him places? That’s just… what friends do, Steve supposes. And all those times Eddie made Steve laugh? Made him feel like the center of the universe? Well, that’s just… Eddie. He must make everyone feel that way. It’s like his super power. But it isn’t romantic… It doesn’t mean anything more than Eddie being a magnetic person.
Steve is just so stupid. Painfully so.
He blinks as the sun hits him. He must’ve reached the other side of the alleyway.
Steve cups a hand over his eyes and grimaces. His migraine wasn’t backing down. He sighs. Time to head back.
Steve turns back into the alleyway he’d emerged from, only he’s about halfway through when he realizes the color of the buildings on either side of him are wrong. They’re brown on one side, painted green on the other. That isn’t right…
His heart jackrabbits in his chest, but he keeps walking forward. Maybe he’ll recognize the street once he’s back on the other side.
But when he gets there, it’s as unfamiliar to him as the alleyway. Steve turns, looking up and down the road to see if he could spot Eddie, or his van, or the Center. But there’s nothing.
And when someone shoulder checks him, Steve supposes he was sort of asking for it, standing in the middle of the sidewalk like that. He apologizes, but it’s too late. The person’s already out of range to hear him.
It’s as if everyone else is on fast forward while Steve’s stuck on pause. The world keeps moving along while all he seems to be able to do is watch it go by.
Why would he ever think someone as dynamic and spirited as Eddie would hitch his horse onto Steve’s busted up, barely mobile cart?
Stupid, stupid, stupid…
He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes and wills himself not to start blubbering again like a goddamn baby. His life is already one big, painful lesson in humility as it is, he doesn’t need to wallow in it.
Steve keeps walking. Figures he’ll spot something, or someone familiar to him eventually. The pounding in his head’s eased off to a dull ache, at least. Maybe there was something to this exercise and fresh air thing the doctors were always going on about, after all…
The thing is though, Steve doesn’t spot anything familiar. Not even vaguely so, and it’s not until the streetlights turn on that he realizes he’d spent the majority of the day wandering around the streets like some lost dog that managed to slip his leash.
It’s cold too, and all he’s got on is jeans and a polo. It’s October, isn’t it? No wonder he’s got goosebumps all up and down his arms.
Then, he finally spots something familiar; a phone booth. Steve breathes a sigh of relief. He’d just call his parents. They’d come pick him up.
He gets the booth and lifts the receiver before he blanks. A quarter. He’d need that. Duh, Harrington. So he hangs up the phone and pats his pockets until he finds a wallet, but all that’s inside of it are a couple of crisp bills. He’d need to break one.
Steve turns, scans the street until he spots a well lit, invitingly warm looking diner. The joint looks so damn cozy that he forgets to make sure the street is clear before he steps out into the middle of it.
Tires screech, harmonizing with the horn that’s blasting at him—Steve flinches, reaching up to cover his head and braces for impact.
To his great relief, the hit never comes. Which, thank fuck. He can’t afford anymore accidents. As it is Robin’s threatened to make him wear a helmet full-time.
Steve doesn’t listen to whatever the person yells at him, he just hurries to get the hell out of his way of the other moving vehicles.
“Smooth, Harrington. Real smooth.” He mutters to himself as he catches his breath.
He pushes the door to the diner open with shaking hands, but it’s blissfully peaceful inside, and he can actually feel his insides unclench as he stands inside of it.
“Sit anywhere, hun, I’ll be right with you.” A woman’s voice tells him. Steve nods and slips into the nearest booth overlooking the street. Watches the cars go by. There’s even a couple of cop cars, sirens blaring, lights flashing. Steve wonders briefly what sort of emergency they’re rushing off to when the waitress comes to his table.
“What can I get you, handsome?” She asks, cheery and warm like the rest of the diner.
“Uh…” Steve frowns, taking a few seconds to process the question, “nothing. I’m just waiting for my parents to come pick me up.”
The waitress taps the side of the notepad. “Well you gotta order something, hun, or you can’t stay here.”
Steve wants to stay here. It’s warm and smells fucking amazing, like “pancakes?”
She waitress smirks. “Yeah, we got those. You want a stack?”
“Yeah, please.” Steve smiles back, laughing along with the waitress like he’s in whatever joke that’s currently so amusing to her. “I’m starving.”
“You want some coffee too, to help you sober up, maybe?”
“Oh, I’m not drunk.” He huffs out a little self deprecating laugh, “I wish. No, I—uh, my meds, they’re the kind that you can’t mix with alcohol. Coffee too. Bummer, right? Yeah… But, uh, it is what it is, I guess—so…”
He can feel it. The way his mind so often wanders. He’s lost his train. His track. He frowns, eyes drifting towards the street again, watching the headlights zip by.
“…so just the pancakes then?” The waitress asks, jolting his train back onto its rails. His attention snaps back onto her.
“Yeah, pancakes. Sure.” Steve flashes her what he hopes is a charming smile.
She returns his smile and leaves him be, and he lets himself relax. Props his head up on a fist and watches life go on for everyone else but him.
He gets his pancakes, and some juice too that he doesn’t remember ordering, but hey, that’s nothing new. And damn, the pancakes taste even better than they smell. He needs to remember the name of this place so he can come back with everyone. What did the doctors say? Repeat something in your head over and over until it sticks. Repetition. Repetition, repetition, repetition…
It’s around the time his fork hits an empty plate that one of the police cars stops in front of the diner window, lights on, but the sirens are off now.
Hopper steps out.
Huh. That’s weird. Steve wonders what sort of emergency he’s here for.
When Hopper enters through the glass doors, the bell hung over the entry way rings out pleasantly. An angel getting their wings.
His eyes land on Steve and the older man sighs, shoulders falling. Relief, Steve recognizes. Hopper pulls the radio from his belt and says something into it before stomping over.
Then it clicks.
Oh. Steve’s the emergency.
He feels his face heat up. The handful of other patrons scattered across the diner are all looking at him.
“There you are.” Hopper sighs, gruff and exasperated.
Steve sinks into his seat, just a little. “Shit. I fucked up, didn’t I?”
“Just a little.” Hopper chuckles dryly. He takes off his hat and slips into the booth across from Steve, apparently not in any sort of hurry now that he’s found the runaway dog.
Steve runs a hand through his hair, a nervous tic he’s developed. “Sorry.”
“Nah, don’t be sorry. Just strangle Munson for me when you see him next, will ya?” Hopper drops his hat onto the table and waves the waitress down. He orders a coke.
Munson. Eddie.
The memory of how he made a total and utter fool of himself comes rushing back, slamming down onto him like one of those cartoon anvils. Jesus, how did he forget that..?
Suddenly the pancakes aren’t sitting so good in his gut. Feels like he’s gonna ralph.
“Was he freaked out? Eddie, I mean.” Steve asks, cautiously approaching the question. Did Eddie say anything about why…?
“Yeah, him and Robin both. Then the kids found out too—don’t ask me how. I suspect the curly-haired one has an illegal transmitter.” Hopper leans back in the booth as the waitress drops off his coke. He takes the straw out and drinks it right from the glass. Steve waits for him to finish, doesn’t say a word.
When Hopper puts the glass down, Steve just sits and watches the way the drops of condensation run down the cup, distorting around the fingerprints Hopper’s left. “Anyway, they’re all out on their bikes looking for you too.”
Hopper smiles fondly, like it’s something charming and not… pathetic. “You got a lot of people that care about you, kid.
Steve swallows around the lump in his throat, and nods. Tries for a grin, but it’s weak. Probably wouldn’t fool anyone, much less a cop. “Yeah, I’m a real lucky guy.”
Hopper looks like he wants to say something else, but he just takes a breath and nods. Steve’s grateful he doesn’t argue. Doesn’t think he has the energy in him right now to fend off the ‘but look how far you’ve come!’ ‘Your speaking’s gotten so much better!’ ‘It could be a whole heck of a lot worse!’ comments.
“What do you say we get you home? Unless you want dessert? My treat.” Hopper offers with a grin.
“No, I just want to go to sleep,” he says, before remembering his manners, “thanks, though.”
“Alright then.” Hopper glances down at the cleared plate of pancakes and the half finished coke before sliding out of the booth, followed by Steve. He takes out wallet, but Steve beats him to it. He tosses down a few bills, hoping it’s enough. Hopper doesn’t comment, so it must be.
The drive back to his and Robin’s apartment is a solemn one, but it’s strangely peaceful. Hopper’s got the heat on full blast due to Steve’s lack of coat, and the motion of the vehicle along with the darkened sky leaves Steve feeling wrung out in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time.
In fact, when they finally arrive, Hopper’s gotta shake his shoulder to wake him up.
“We’re here.” He rumbles out in his gruff baritone.
Steve lifts his head from his folded arm and looks up at the modest building. He wonders how far they live from the pancake diner. If they could walk there, sometime, him and Robin and Eddie.
But then Steve realizes he never got the name of it. He feels his insides sink. Another thing lost to him.
“Thanks, Hop,” Steve gives Hopper a nod and what he’s sure is a tired smile. “I’ll, uh—I’ll try not to run off again.”
“Ah, don’t worry about it.” Hopper says, diplomatically. “Let me walk you in.”
Steve cringes at the idea. He’s grateful for Hop and all he’s done—especially the part about not making him feel like a complete dummy—but he just wants this all to be over and for things to revert back to how they were. And at this point he’s so close he can taste it.
Steve busies his hands by undoing his seat belt. “No, it’s okay, really—“
Hopper looks like he’s about to argue but Robin damn near crashes out through the building’s illuminated front doors. She makes a b-line for Steve, who’s just barely gotten out of the cruiser.
She wraps her arms around him and doesn’t let go. “Steve! Holy shit, you scared me so bad. I’ve been out of my mind!”
Steve’s arms are trapped at an awkward angle, but he reaches around her as best he can, arms like flippers. “I’m okay. Seriously. Look, not even a scratch.”
She doesn’t laugh. Just squeezes him harder. Truthfully, Steve doesn’t know if he’s okay, but it’s what everyone always seems to want to hear from him, so he says it often.
“I’ve already killed Eddie like three times.” Robin murmurs into Steve’s chest, before finally pulling away. Her eyes are bloodshot, her nose stuffy, like she’s been crying.
“It’s not his fault, Rob.” Steve’s brows pinch together as he frowns, “is he…”
But when Steve looks up towards their building, he can see Eddie standing in the doorframe, his dark silhouette illuminated by the entry way lights. He’s still as a statue, holding open the door for them, arm extended out into the cold autumn night. Steve’s insides squirm.
“You got him from here, Buckley?” Hopper calls from his cruiser and Robin ducks to meet his eye before giving him a thumbs up. She loops her arm around his waist and they start towards their place—towards Eddie.
Before they reach him, Steve keeps his voice down as he asks, “Can I just go to bed? I don’t—I can’t talk about it right now.”
“Okay.” She nods, “I get it.”
But she doesn’t, not really.
Steve avoids eye contact with Eddie when they finally reach the building, and before he can say anything, Robin interrupts. “He’s going straight to bed. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
“Yeah, okay.” Eddie says in a small voice. He doesn’t argue. Doesn’t even follow them back up to their apartment. Maybe Eddie’s even relieved he doesn’t need to confront it tonight. Maybe they won’t ever confront it… maybe he’s hoping Steve’s brain will take care of everything and make him forget. Make it like it never happened. Part of Steve wishes—
No. He doesn’t wish that. His brain’s already functioning at half capacity, he doesn’t want to thank it for fucking up, even if it might make Steve’s life easier.
Whatever Eddie’s expression is, Steve doesn’t look back to find out. He keeps his eyes on his feet, focusing on putting one step ahead of the other.
When they finally arrive at Steve’s matchbox sized bedroom, he doesn’t even bother changing into pajamas, or even out of his jeans for that matter. He just falls into his bed, pulls a pillow over his head and wills himself to let go of the day and surrender to the sweet pull of blissful unconsciousness.
🫣 Oops, I made it worse. But I promise the Eddie and Steve confrontation is in the next part! 🙏 This is tagged angst with a happy ending for a reason.
Tag List: (message me to add or remove yourself.)
@morallyundefined @estrellami-1 @ollieolive @mugloversonly @wheneverfeasible @steddiefication @what-if-a-dragon @wrenisfangirling @yesdangerpls @flustratedcas @scarletyeager @snowstar2368 @starxlark @sofadofax @lawrencebshoggoth @stevesworldxx @jizzing-bastard-600and69 @bambibiest @queenie-ofthe-void @lilpomelito @bananahoneycomb @kaspurrcat @deadwhiterosesstuff @dame-zoom-a-lot @3vilpurpl3d0t @loudmariachibands @steddieislife
#Steddie#I swear I’ll fix it#🔨🪛🪚 look I have my tools right here#let me know if you want to be added to the tag list for part 3!#angst with a happy ending#Steddie amnesia fic#concussed Steve Harrington#tw head trauma#Steve Harrington centric#whew boy we’re in for a bit of a roller coaster#Eddie Munson#Steve Harrington#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#steddie fanfic#Eddie Munson is a sweetheart#he’s just a little guy#Eddie x Steve#Steve x Eddie#pre-Steddie#but they’re heading there I swear#I WILL make the boys smooch I swear#but anyway here it is!#I’ve literally never had a fic blow up the way this one did#thank you everyone#my writing#write Rae write
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#joseph quinn#joe quinn#jq#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things 4#everyone was doing so good in the jq tag#you people are why we cant have nice things#is it an unpopular opinion of mine to think that people TAGGING their stupid asks are just as toxic as those who start rumors?#stop adding to my blocked list its getting stupid
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Thank you for the tag @thebohemianbelle 💚
Rules: pick a song for each letter of your URL and tag that many people.
Love is a Cowboy - Kelsea Ballerini
As Long as You Love Me - BSB
Dreams - Fleetwood Mac
You Give Love a Bad Name - Bon Jovi
Only You - Yaz
Favorite Kind of High - Kelly Clarkson
My Church - Maren Morris
Into The Mystic - Van Morrison
Stairway to Heaven - Led Zeppelin
Crazy Little Thing Called Love - Queen
Heaven, Iowa - Fall Out Boy
I Wanna Dance with Somebody - Whitney Houston
Ends Of The Earth - Lord Huron
Foolish Games - Jewel
I think this playlist perfectly sums up what the inside of my head sounds like 😅
Tag List: @queenofnevermore @ecle-c-tic @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen @loverlyundecidedmusicalmuggle @thislookinyoureyes @whatmarisays @trinikins @freddie-moments @whyfalloutwhenyoucanpanic @ursogreat @arwione @queenies-of-the-universe @borealis-strange @theforceiswithyoualways @theinvulnerabletide
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girls wake up there's a new worm bike playlist in progress
alana said the new one is way more funky, I've noticed a lot of punk bands are piggy dippin in a funk/punk sound more than a pop/punk sound and honestly? I'm so obsessed.
#its only like half done but ive already had it on repeat for 2 months#truly a I love this song! oh yeah i added it ass playlist#ever since going public with the worm bikes i am more conscious of how incohesive these playlists are#i can have songs bordering on e boy trap music noise alongside what is basically a pop song alongside screamo#but the point was never to have a cohesive sound or vibe. it was to collect new music in one place#and it does that effectively for me even if not everyone who seeks them out has the same taste#also a seperate thought to make these tags extra long: some of them ARE more cohesive and that's the funny part#you can tell my moods of the time or what i was seeking in song. one of them is full of songs about cutting off abusive parents and#simultaneously songs about being happy having a good time healing and starting over#like in a convoluted way that is cohesive and poetic#idk just weird to look back and be able to identify periods of my life with the music i collected now that theres so much of it#wish i could hard copy it but some of these songs are so obscure i feel like it's unrealistic#but i do want to have copies of my VIP list#okay sorry for the long ass rambling tags byyyyeeee
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ok. ok . WAIT . whatg if i said. misty quigley and hannah washington and-[is taken down immediately]
#mine#text#my thoughts#my YJ tag#my UD tag#YJ#UD#and i dont mean in a shipping way . i mean in like a. swap type AU way#id just lvoe to see what hannah wouldve been like if she got more time#do i think she wouldve been 'as bad' as misty? no#but the potential is still there#esp if hannah WAS on the outside of her friend group (which i assume she was. she and sam tbh)#ive talked abt it before but i think sam and hannah were like The Two Besties and then bc of josh they knew / were 'friends' w/ everyone el#but besides that. they weren't rly insanely a part of the group#BUT ANYWAY#would anyone believe me that this wasnt even the reason why i began thinking of an AU....#it was originally between emily/jess/mike and jackie/shauna/jeff 😭#but the similarities are only VERY specific w/ them#situation wise. more so#i think misty/hannah have more going for them#GRRR ADDING ANOTHER AU TO THE LIST I GUESS!
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hi guys. at the time of writing this i have forty (40) mutuals, and yet, each time im added to a tag game, i tag the same five people. 3 of which do not want to be tagged most likely. guys pls lmk if i can add u to tag games PLS 😭🫶
#IM STRUGGLING#just spent ~20 minutes going through my followers to see what mutuals didnt have themed blogs so i could tag them for the tag game…#i ended up at a dead end.#also MUTUALS PLS TTM I LOVE YOU GUYS TALK TO ME IM SCARED TO INITIATE CONVERSATION#BUT ID LOVE TO BE FRIENDS WITH YALL#reminding everyone that my asks are always open (WIDE OPEN !! SEND ME ASKS) and i LOVE getting DMs#if u dont mind me tagging u just like like this post 👍#i have like three people who i know dont wanna be added so to those ppl dw !! i remember u !!#but yeah#PLEASE help#this is a predicament#and to bugzzx(i forgot how many zs there are) I WILL ADD TO THE TAG GAME! TRUST ME#YOU JUST KINDA TAGGED HALF MY LIST SOOO#FINDING NEW PPL#SOON THO#hoping this reaches my mutuals thx#there should be a button that lets me notify my mutuals of a specific post i make#like not all of them but this one fs#+ i sincerely apologize to my mutuals who have notifs on for my posts. may ur inbox rest in peace 🙏🕊️
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Alright here's both of my lists.
Left one is; canon (even when unintentional) but there's (widespread) stupid discourse about it so I'll die on these hills defending them
Right one is; basis is either in minor hints/events or conjured up by my beautiful mind
anyways. GIRLIES. GET BEHIND ME!!1!
<v.2.0 is out now!>
#trans#trans headcanons#tedtalks#tedpost#tedit#if any of you wanna hear abt the specifics for some of these I'd LOVE to elaborate#also i use she/her for hanami exclusively so my friends do it too because of me. i am the ceo of girl hanami#and yes. tachibana is on both lists. if you know you know.#also i am NOT tagging everyone. too many.#i should make a list of canon women i think are trans. i have lots of those too#anyways shoutout to zach for finding me the post that inspired this#EDIT; I added Garry. forgot abt her for a sec#EDIT; added Sylvia <3 also Akoya was already in the list i just. completely buried her under the others. oops. and Kazui is here now too ig#EDIT; HOW COULD I FORGET OUR NEWEST QUEEN... OTOME KUN IM SORRY. i scoured twitter to find a good pic of her. its fixed now.
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Toggle to turn off image resizing
Autoplay toggle outside of the app (THIS INCLUDES GIFS)
Ads respect your autoplay settings
Ads with flashing colours don't get approved
Removal of the number of filtered post content limit
Being able to expand/collapse filtered tags and post content lists on mobile
Toggle that removes filtered tags/post content from your dash
Ability to opt-out of ads data collection/targeting on the app
The ability to search drafts/likes
Being able to turn off the update app banner prompt
Unloading large media elements when they're off-screen on desktop to deal with the lag problem
Fixing the app accumulating a massive cache by storing every icon that's ever been loaded (personal record of "largest tumblr cache" was over 4GB)
simple things that would dramatically improve this website
content label specifically for flashing
ability to see the image you’re describing when writing alt text
permanent “keep tumblr live off my dash” button
ability to add closed captions on videos
blocking someone filters their posts from ur dash
mutuals only posts
filtered tags filtering blazed posts
switching a blog from sideblog to main blog
sending asks/replies/etc from sideblogs
while blocking someone’s main blog you have the option to also block their sideblogs
not slapping mature labels on sfw queer posts
keep “following” the default tab
get rid of the spambots (not simple but by god would it improve the website)
get rid of the t.rfs/nazis/other bigots (not simple but they could start by actually acting on the reports they get)
#these ones personally bug me a lot#the image resizing is the sole reason why i still have an app version from january; smaller images are way too hard to see#AND sometimes difficult to click with my joint issues PLUS the full size takes forever to load with aussie internet speeds#ads autoplaying bugged me so much that i switched to PWA tumblr with firefox. but autoplay doesnt respect my browser settings there#which is a pain since its counted as desktop and staffs response was ''just change the browser autoplay settings lol'' IT DOESNT WORK#not sure if other people are encountering the filter limit though#i can add new ones just fine on desktop; but the app just fails to create it unless i delete an older one??? works just fine with tags#despite the fact that there are MORE tags#and it basically locks up for a minute or so when adding anything or loading the list so?????#i am Not A Fan of the tumblr app being able to see what ive searched on firefox and showing me ads based on that#EVEN with ghostery and adblock AND opting out of data sharing between partners on the ADVERTISERS end#like HOW are you getting a hold of that???#searching drafts/likes would be a lifesaver; i have way too many of both. when DA added it it was awesome#the banner is annoying!!! im not gonna update!!!#last one is the main reason why everyone says to turn infinite scroll off#^second last one i added another#the cache has been a problem for YEARS#i first found out about the problem in like 2018ish
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watching this makes us swant to watch starship troopers
youtube
triggers: Does the Dog Die?
#((ic post))#we dont remember if weve s33n it already or if were mixing it up with somethwing else#if we do watch it we might try and add two the does the dog die list. theres alot missing!#((#nazi ment-#war;;#there's a bit of gore in there. and speciesism? I'm gonna ad a DTDD link IC actually. Petea is really big on not upsetting people#it makes so much more sense now. I did watch it a few times when I was younger. it was like my dad's fave film.#but I obv didn't get bits and it made me uncomfortable and I didn't get why lol. I didn't get that it was satirical back then#but now I guess I can watch it from a different POV#I do appreciate the shower scene. as a kid seeing that I guess it just cemented my understanding that people are just people and shouldn't#-be segregated by sex/gender. as a kid I genuinely thought everyone just fell in love/were attracted to people based on their personalities#basically that everyone was pansexual/panromantic#and that that was the norm.#I didn't realise it wasn't until I was like 8. then I learned about sexualities and that being straight was assumed “the norm” :c#also yeah I'm saying that I was exposed to gore before I probably should've been. youngest I remember watching gory films was 5...#long post;;#now bc of tags.#))#Youtube#watch list
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He listens while you yap
pairings: boyfriend! enhypen x reader | listener x yapper trope
caution: be prepared for their randomness (•‿•)
author's note: This is my first time trying something like this, and I thought, why not switch things up? If you enjoyed it and want more like this, just let me know! Happy reading!
permanent tag list: @sol3chu @chlorinecake @13tter @jung1w0n
HEESEUNG
You explained an article you found earlier and made an especially interesting point. “So, apparently, there’s this theory about how—wait, are you even listening?” you paused mid-sentence then glancing up at Heeseung.
He was just staring at you the entire time.
“Am I talking too much?” you asked, feeling embarrassed. Was he bored? You might have been talking for hours...well, you were.
“I’m sorry,” you added. Feeling guilty.
Heeseung tilted his head slightly. His lips formed a gentle smile that quickly made you feel comfortable. “No, not at all. I’m just listening,” he said gently. “You always have the most interesting things to say.”
You blinked. For a moment, you were caught off guard by his words.. “Really? Because I’m pretty sure I’m just rambling about random stuff half the time.”
He chuckled softly while shaking his head. “Not to me. You make even the most ordinary things sound extraordinary. Like you’re breathing life into them.”
“Come on, that’s a bit much,” you teased though you were shy with his words.
He shook his head slowly. “It’s not. You could talk about the lifespan of jellyfish, and I’d still want to hear every word.”
You laughed. “Seriously? Jellyfish?”
“Yup,” he said with a grin. Heeseung’s eyes crinkling at the corners. “I don’t think you realize how much I enjoy hearing you talk.”
You looked at him for a moment. Your laughter turned into a warmer feeling. “You always know how to make me feel special, right?”
Heeseung smiled more. “I’m just telling the truth. You’re the one who makes everything feel special.”
Your heart swelled at his words, and you couldn’t help but grin. “You’re too good at this, you know. No wonder everyone’s always talking about how sweet you are.”
He lightly shrugged. “Only for you.”
JAY
You plopped down next to Jay on the couch, “Last night, I dreamed I was a bottle of ketchup,” you said, not even glancing at him.
Jay didn’t even look up from what he was doing, though you knew he was listening. “Oh?”
“Yeah. And you were mustard. Which is weird because you’re usually mayonnaise in my dreams.” You said it matter-of-factly.
Jay glanced over at you and gave a small smile. Your boyfriend didn’t even question it anymore.
“Mhm. We were sitting on a picnic table, minding our own business,” you continued, staring blankly ahead. “Then this kid comes over, grabs you, and squeezes you all over a hot dog.”
“Of course,” Jay muttered, his smile still there.
“And then they grabbed me and put me on french fries,” you said, your voice now lighter. “But even though we were on different foods, we ended up on the same plate.”
Jay gave you a soft look. “Of course you did.”
“Yup. It’s like… no matter what, we always end up together,” you said nonchalantly. “Even if we’re on different things, we’ll always end up on the same plate.”
Jay didn’t react much, just looking at you with that same fond smile. “Ketchup and mustard, huh? That’s one way to put it.”
“Yep.” You nodded as if you were completely confident in the analogy. “It’s like fate, you know?”
Jay leaned back. “Fate. Of course. You’re the ketchup, and I’m the mustard.”
“Exactly,” you said, kicking your legs a little. “I mean, I’m obviously the star of the show, but you do make a good sidekick.”
Jay laughed quietly to himself, shaking his head. “You’re the star, hm?”
“Of course,” you said, completely unfazed, “but you still belong next to me.”
“Right,” Jay replied with a small, affectionate smile. “Next to you, always.”
And just like that, he continues to look at you with the same smile as you continue to talk, absolutely in love with you.
JAKE
You were pacing around the room, hands gesturing wildly as you went off about the movie you’d just watched. “And don’t even get me started on the plot twist—like, I saw it coming from a mile away! But, still, how could they—ugh, I can’t wrap my head around it!”
Jake sat on the couch with one arm stretched across the backrest. “Go on, tell me more,” he said, his voice smooth and teasing.
“Okay, but can we talk about that scene? The main character falls—of course—and she’s like, ‘Save yourself!’” You rolled your eyes dramatically. “Like, girl, what? Just get up! Run with your friend! Why are you making it so dramatic?”
“Mhm,” he hummed, clearly holding back a laugh.
You kept going, utterly oblivious to his gaze. “I mean, realistically, if I fall, I’m grabbing your arm and dragging you down with me. We’re both going down. There’s no ‘save yourself’ moment. You’re coming with me.”
Jake chuckled, shaking his head. “Good to know.”
“And the friend?” you continued, throwing your hands up. “She’s just standing there, like, ‘Noooo!’ for too long. Like, hello? Help her up and run!”
Jake leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You’d definitely survive in a movie.”
“Oh, absolutely,” you said, pointing at him. “I’m not wasting time with emotional goodbyes. We’re both making it out, or no one is.”
Jake grinned, his voice dropping just slightly. “So, you’d save me?”
You froze for a second before narrowing your eyes. “Obviously. I’d even ensure you didn’t trip in the first place.”
He laughed softly. “And here I was, thinking you’d be the one tripping on purpose just to get me to catch you.”
Your jaw dropped. “I would NOT!”
Jake smirked. “You totally would.”
“I’d be saving both of us!”
“You’re hot,”
You froze. “What?”
“You heard me,” he said.
Of course, he had to flirt.
You crossed your arms tighter, fighting back a smile. “Okay… what? That’s random. You’re distracting me.”
“That’s kind of my thing, isn’t it?” Jake grinned wider, tilting his head. “Admit it, baby.”
You shook your head with a sigh. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” But the way your heart fluttered at his words? You couldn’t deny it.
SUNGHOON
You paced around the room as you got lost in recounting the day. “And I visited my parents today! I missed them so much…it was the best.”
Finally, you stopped mid-stride and turned to face him, hands on your hips. “Okay, are you even listening? Or are you zoning out again?”
You have seen your boyfriend zoning out often, especially in the mornings. You wouldn’t be surprised if today were one of those days.
But he chuckled softly, wanting to assure you. “I’m listening. I always do.”
You tilted your head. “Even when I’m rambling about stuff that’s probably unimportant?”
“Especially then,” he said, his dimples appearing as his smile grew wider. “I like hearing you talk. It makes me happy.”
Your arms crossed, though you couldn’t fight the grin pulling at your lips. “You like when I yap on and on?”
“Not the yapping part,” Sunghoon teased. “It’s the way you’re so happy when you talk. You’re glowing, and I can’t look away.”
That made your cheeks heat up. “I’m just telling you about my day.”
“I know,” he said softly. “But you light up when you talk about the things you love. I could listen to you all day. It’s comforting.”
“Comforting?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow. Oh?
He nodded as his eyes began to soften. “Yeah. It’s like you’re letting me see a part of you no one else does.”
Your lips curved into a smile. “I never thought I’d be comforting while going on about my life.”
Sunghoon’s smile grew. “You’d be surprised.”
SUNOO
“…and I don’t even know why they didn’t just say that in the first place! Would it have been so hard? Honestly…” you trailed off, glancing at Sunoo, watching you with the softest smile.
You blinked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?” he asked, his smile widening.
“Like you’re completely entertained by my nonsense.”
“Because I am,” Sunoo admitted without hesitation. “I love it when you yap.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Yap?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “You go off about the most random things, and I love it. It’s my favorite background noise.”
You playfully gasped. “Background noise? You’re saying I’m noise?” How dare he?!
“Sweet noise,” he corrected, grinning cheekily. “The kind I never want to tune out.”
You rolled your eyes, but there was no hiding the blush on your cheeks. “So you want me to keep going?”
Sunoo nodded eagerly. “Of course! Why do you think I never interrupt you?”
Tilting your head, suspicious. “What if I talk about like….I don’t know... talk about socks?”
He laughed softly. “You don’t realize how cute you are when you get all caught up in your little stories.”
You tried to fight the smile tugging at your lips but gave up quickly. “Fine. But you’re stuck with me talking forever.”
Sunoo’s eyes sparkled. “Lucky me.”
JUNGWON
You were sprawled on the carpet while Jungwon sat next to you, quietly listening with that ever-patient expression.
“…and I don’t get it! Why would you even bring a cat to a grocery store? What’s the cat gonna do? Pick out your produce?” You threw your hands up, exasperated. “Next thing you know, they’ll be pushing their pets in carts like it’s totally normal.”
Jungwon blinked at you. You can see his lips twitching.
You squinted. “You’re holding back a laugh, aren’t you?”
“No,” he said, lips pressed together tightly.
“Yes, you are!” You pointed at him accusingly. “You’re trying so hard not to laugh right now.”
He cracked. His shoulders shook as he let out a small giggle. But then it escalated. His hand flew to his stomach, and he was laughing so hard that he tipped backward.
“HAHAHAHAHA OH MY—AHHHH HA HA HA HA!”
You sat there, wide-eyed. “Is it that funny?”
He nodded, tears forming at the corners of his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. “It’s not even the story! It’s you! You’re so serious about the ridiculous things—AHHH HA HA AHH HAHA—I can’t!”
You crossed your arms, pouting. “I was making a valid point.”
“I know, I know!” Jungwon wheezed, wiping his eyes. “But you looked so offended! Like, personally attacked by the cat in the store.”
“Well, someone had to say it!”
Jungwon shook his head. “You’re too much.”
You huffed. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”
“Because you love me,” he teased, his laughter finally calming down.
You rolled your eyes but smiled despite yourself. “Maybe.”
“Definitely,” he said, still grinning. “Now, please. Keep going. I need another good laugh.”
NI-KI
You were going on about how your day went, and Ni-ki, leaning against the doorframe, watched you as he kept grinning. He wasn’t saying much but teasing you with every detail you mentioned. “Wow, you don’t stop talking, huh?” Ni-ki said with a smirk.
You raised an eyebrow. You do not want to back down. Especially to him. “I’m just sharing my day, okay? You don’t have to listen if it’s too much.”
“Oh, I’m listening,” Ni-ki said as he stepped forward. “I just didn’t know you had this much to say. You’ve been talking for hours, baby.”
You shot him a look, unfazed. “Oh, please. You know I talk plenty, just not to you.”
Ni-ki chuckled, pushing himself off the doorframe and walking over to you. “I think you talk to me more than you realize. You just don’t want to admit it.”
You scoffed, crossing your arms. “I don’t know about that.”
“Uh-huh. You’re giving me the full lecture today. You can’t hide it,” he teased. “And honestly, I’m enjoying it.”
You rolled your eyes, trying to act indifferent. “Of course you are; you love it when I talk.”
Ni-ki shrugged dramatically. “Guilty as charged. Your yapping is one of my favorite things. Keeps me entertained.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at how easily he could get under your skin, even with his teasing. “Well, I hope you’re ready for more because I’m not stopping anytime soon.”
“Bring it on,” Ni-ki said with a wink, clearly looking forward to hearing all of it.
#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen oneshots#enhypen scenarios#enhypen fics#enhypen x reader#heeseung x reader#lee heeseung x reader#heeseung imagines#park jongseong x reader#park jay x reader#jay x reader#jay imagines#sim jake x reader#sim jaeyun x reader#jake sim x reader#jake x reader#jake imagines#park sunghoon x reader#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon imagines#kim sunoo x reader#sunoo x reader#sunoo imagines#yang jungwon x reader#jungwon x reader#jungwon imagines#nishimura riki x reader#ni ki x reader#ni ki imagines
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His Delicate Flower Of Rome
Summary: when Lucius found out you were Marcus Acacius’s daughter he knew he had to have you, and when the opportunity was right he wasn’t holding back
Warnings: explicit content, mature themes, smut, unprotected sex, slightly dom Lucius, submissive reader, smidge of spanking
A/N: hello my lovelies! I was genuinely surprised that there isn’t more fics of Paul or Lucius out there so I wanted to write something for him, and hope everyone likes it and share your thoughts on if I should keep writing for him! If you wish to be added to a tag list please let me know! Or if you have any requests do not hesitate to submit it to my inbox! Don’t forget to reblog and comment! Thank you! XOXO
Hall Of Hunks
Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989
"That's it flower, that's a good woman." Soft praises echoing in your ear as you sank down on Lucius's erect length. His calloused hands caressing your skin so tenderly. "Are you feeling all of me?"
"Mhm." Struggling to find the right words as you concentrated more on adjusting around his cock. Twisting your face in an unusual manner he couldn't resist as he leaned forward to place light kisses on your heated cheeks and temple.
"Do the gods hold your tongue? Can you not speak?" Keeping his voice deep and low as his words teased you.
"Lucius please." Whimpering pathetically as you continued to grind your hips back and forth. Lucius chuckling at how eager and desperate you were for him.
"Do you enjoy fucking gladiators? Does that moisten your thighs? Does your father know what a whore you are?" He taunted you as you bit your bottom lip realizing that his words held more truth than you wanted. Soon as Lucius found out you were Marcus Acacius's daughter he wasted no time in seducing you. "I've been longing to feel this cunt around me for too long."
He loved the feeling of your skin touching his. The way your body had molded into his so perfectly. A fierce bloodthirsty champion of the arena was holding you like a delicate flower. Lucius was enjoying this way more than he intended, and was already planning on never letting you go.
"Gods you are tight." Large hands holding the fat flesh of your thighs his thumb stroking your skin soothingly. Feeling so warm and incredibly deep. "You have not been fucked the way you should be."
Nodding your head in agreement unable to speak as you wrapped your hands around his thick neck. Beginning to tremble as you moved your legs to raise yourself better. Lucious guiding your hips now as he looked down to where you two were connected.
"Take it easy I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself." Noticing how aggressively you were bouncing on his cock. Even as his hands swatted your backside in warning you still continued to ignore him. So lost in the clouds you didn't want to come down.
"I can do it Lucius." Assuring him with such innocent eyes he couldn't help but smirk at how badly you wanted this. "Gods you are so big."
"Fuck." He grunts before pulling your body on top of his as he laid along the bed. He was surprised how soft it was considering he had been sleeping on stone for so long.
Gasping as he lifted his knees and started to pound into your cunt with absolutely no mercy giving you exactly what you wanted. His lips warm and desperate as they peppered kisses along your neck and shoulder. His hands keeping a firm grip on your ass using it as leverage.
"Oh gods." Crying out as he growled in your ear with such animosity it had a shiver running down your spine.
"The gods will never make you feel like this." Hissing into your ear and in just mere seconds tears are glistening in your eyes with such intensity. "Only my cock can bring you to such pleasure."
"Yes, my champion." We're all the words Lucius needed to hear before he suddenly flipped you on your back his cock never slipping from inside you. Grabbing your legs and placing them on his shoulders, as he got right back into the same rhythm.
Drilling into your sweet spot as he leaned forward slightly his face right above yours. Lucius was oozing with confidence in everything that he did. Whether it was in the colosseum or the bedroom. Bit surprised that a man like him would want anything to do with the generals daughter.
"I'm close." Informing him as your body started to shake a fire igniting in the pit of your stomach. Head tossed back in complete ecstasy as you couldn't hold back anymore.
"Let go I am right here." Cooing into your ear like he was revealing his secrets. His deep and seductive tone was sending you right over the edge.
"Oh gods." Crying out as your orgasm was swiftly approaching still sensitive from your previous release by his tongue. Lucius looking down at your remarkable expression unable to look anywhere else. Loving that he was the one in control, and held all this power in your pleasure. It made him feel like a god.
Your senses were extremely heightened, and feeling overwhelmed and vulnerable. Not sure how much longer you could hold on. Lucius could sense this, and he knew what would help relieve you.
"Let me see those beautiful eyes." He instructed to which you immediately followed not seeing that he was reaching a hand down between your bodies to your puffy clit. Rubbing rapid circles making you scream hands scratching along his back surely leaving marks.
Your ribcage rising and falling with each quick breath. Hands falling down to your side feeling loose and numb. Stomach trembling from the resounding orgasm you just experienced. Your battered cunt was so sore from being stretched and abused. Feeling his hands gently caressing your trembling thighs as he stayed still inside of you.
“The gods have surely blessed me on this night.” Speaking trying to catch his breath as he smiled down at you.
“Seems the gods bless you every night.” Moving from underneath him his cock slipping out as he laid next to you. The only sound you could hear was the water fountain outside of your room, and the crackles from the fireplace. Expecting Lucius to gather himself, and never speak to you again.
“Take comfort in my arms, and I will hold you while you sleep.” Pulling your body against his before you could say anything. The unexpected gesture made you feel something that you’ve never felt before. “Sleep my delicate flower.”
#paul mescal imagines#paul mescal smut#Paul mescal#Paul mescal blurb#Paul mescal x reader#lucius verus#Lucius verus smut#Lucius verus x reader#Lucius verus blurb#Lucius verus imagines#Paul mescal fic#Paul mescal fanfiction#Lucius verus fanfiction#gladiator ii smut#gladiator II#gladiator 2#gladiator
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Wait for your love | jjk (teaser)
— pairing: firefighter!jungkook x female reader
— genre: kind of exes to lovers, parents au, angst, fluff, and smut
— rating: 18+
— summary: sixteen years ago, your life was turned upside down when you surrendered to the temptation — none other than jungkook, the star basketball player on your school’s team. today, after all that time, you reunite under tragic circumstances; a car crash where he saves your life.
— words: 577
— author’s note: here you have the teaser of the fic i’m currently working on 🤗 you have a tiny little teaser below & i hope you’ll enjoy it ❤️
— tag list: let me know in any way if you want to be tagged when i post this and if you are part of my permanent taglist, you will automatically be added ✨
Jungkook and his team got called for a car accident involving several cars, and when they arrived, the scene was horrific.
There are probably five cars pressed and smashed one against the other. There are people injured and bleeding walking around the scene. Paramedics are already taking care of them, but Jungkook is walking to the cars to retrieve the people stuck inside. His captain screams orders and tells him which car he should go to.
His eyes look around, his heart breaking when he sees everyone involved and still stuck in their cars. Visions like this are quite common for him, it doesn’t happen all the time but it’s still recurrent. At the end of the day, his job is to save people in this type of situation.
When he reaches the car, he was assigned to, he takes a look at how many people there are inside. There’s just one person, a woman behind the steering wheel. She has her hand on her head, clearly showing that she might have a headache. She doesn’t really move. Instantly, Jungkook tries to open the door, but it’s showing a bit of resistance.
It feels impossible to open the door, but Jungkook sees the woman’s head falling. He’s getting worrier; she’s slumping into sleep which isn’t a good sign as she was holding her head barely seconds ago. He then proceeds to break the window so he can try to open it from inside. There are other possible ways, but it would be harder and more dangerous to get her out of the vehicle.
“Ma’am,” he says with urge.
Eventually, he manages to open the damn door from the inside. A good part of the car’s front is crashing into her. Before even thinking of taking her out, he places a cervical collar to protect her neck and spine.
“Ma’am,” he repeats. “Can you hear me?”
She doesn’t answer at all. Jungkook gets closer, his fingers brushing the hair from her face, but when he finally gets to properly see the woman’s face, his heart skips a beat. This woman is none other than you. His mind can’t start to get lost in the past right now. He needs to focus on taking you out of the car.
You’re in pretty bad shape.
There’s blood on your forehead, you most probably have a wound on top of your head. There’s also blood at the level of your stomach, turning your green shirt into a very dark color. He can distinguish a big fragment of glass shoved into your belly. It doesn’t look good. Your legs are also completely smashed by the front, causing the steering wheel to be very close to your body. Hopefully, your legs aren’t too injured. He doesn’t even want to start thinking about all the bruises on your body.
Slowly, he places one hand behind your back while his other hand slowly pushes your legs. He’s trying to be as careful as possible to avoid causing any other injury. His strong arms hold you once he manages to fully remove you from the car. His eyes look down at your face with evident pain. He notices how you’re trying to open your eyes which makes him think that you’re trying to fight the urge to fall asleep.
“Yn,” he says while walking to an ambulance. “Please, stay with me,” he whispers with despair. “I’ve finally found you, and I can’t lose you right away.”
#bts#bts imagine#bts fanfic#jeon jungkook#jungkook#jungkook imagine#jungkook fanfic#bts angst#jungkook angst#bts fluff#jungkook fluff#bts smut#jungkook smut#wait for your love#teaser#spideyjimin
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They're done! I really want to try and make prints again as it's been years and I've never felt like I was very good at making whole posters. Dipping my toe back in with these silly chibis of each Papa with every Ghoul they've had. Perhaps they can also work as a guide for those wanting to learn all the characters? I added in a fair amount of little references with the Ghoul's poses so it'll be interesting to see what you guys figure out and notice!
The prints are on pre-order and won't ship out until November. I've put up 25 of each to start with but if they get low on stock I'll keep adding more until I have them printed and then it'll be a set amount in stock.
Also a reminder about the stickers of every Ghost Papa and Ghoul that I made earlier this year that are also available as customisable badges! Thank you so much to everyone who already bought them and got Etsy to list them as a 'bestseller' for a while. They're still up and in stock.
EDIT: someone informed me Delta was not in Secondo's era so sorry little water ghoul but he got edited out of that drawing.
Characters featured on the prints and are also available on stickers and badges: Papa Emeritus I / Primo, Papa Emeritus II / Secondo, Papa Emerirus III / Terzo, Papa Emeritus IV / Cardinal Copia, Aether, Air, Alpha / Fire, Aurora, Chain / Water, Cirrus, Cowbell, Cumulus, Delta, Dewdrop / Sodo, Earth, Ifrit, Ivy, Lake, Mist, Mountain, Omega / Quintessence, Pebble, Phantom, Phil / Special Ghoul, Rain, Sunshine, Swiss, Zephy.
I can’t link to my Etsy without risking Tumblr hiding the post from tag search results, but the link is in my pinned post, my carrd, I’m emptymasks on Etsy. Reblogs help support artists more than likes ❤️
[ID: Four landscape drawings, one for each of Ghost's Papas and the Ghouls that were in the band with them while they were the lead singer. Each Papa is in the center with each of their ghouls standings to their sides. Every character has their name written above or below them, on brightly coloured backgrounds for each Papa's robe colour. Also, individual pixel art chibi drawings of 69 characters from various European musicals (listed above) that are available as stickers. These drawings are also available as badges where they are placed inside circles to show what they will look like as physical button badges, some of them with plain colour backgrounds and some with 1-3 different pride flags as examples of how you can customise the backgrounds.]
For those who want to know what the little references in the prints are and don't want to guess, they're under the cut:
Omega can be a stompy boy when he's playing guitar, Alpha likes to throw up peace signs, Air is very found of the rock horns hand symbol, there's one close-up photo of Lake out there where you can clearly see his black sclera contacts and he's doing double 'horns' hand symbol, Mountain infamously takes his shoes off when playing the drums and leaves them on the stage at the site of his drumkit, Dewdrop likes to like.. most things including his guitar and his picks and sometimes his own hand, Pebble liked to hand out his drumsticks at the end of shows by dropkicking them into the crowd, Omega wore a flower tucked into his guitar strap during one show and Terzo constantly flirts with him more than other ghouls, Delta is suspected to be the ghoul that attempted to kick an audience member off stage when they climbed onstage and attempted to kiss Terzo, Zephyr was the only band member and only keyboardist who sat down while playing, the special ghoul played by Tobias wore a nametag 'Phil' in an interview, Swiss constantly is showing all his teethies with his smiles and always wiggling and moving around, Aether and Dewdrop often interact with Dew teasing/bothering Aether, Dew and Rain also often interact with Dew constantly reaching to grab his neck and attempt to kiss him, aaaand I think that's everything I intentionally included other than just generally tried to get the poses and expressions to match the personality we've seen from each ghoul.
#the band ghost#fanart#ghost bc#terzo#secondo#primo#copia#papa emeritus#omega ghoul#dewdrop ghoul#swiss ghoul#cirrus ghoul#cumulus ghoul#terzomega#rain ghoul#dewaether#dewdrop x rain#zephyr ghoul#myart#mine#phantom ghoul#aurora ghoul#lake ghoul#river ghoul#chain ghoul#alpha ghoul#air ghoul#ivy ghoul#pebble ghoul#special ghoul
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Vampire Boy || Teaser
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𓆩♱𓆪 pairing: vampire!Jungkook x human!Reader (afab, she/her)
𓆩♱𓆪 content: 18+ explicit content, established relationship au, vampire au
𓆩♱𓆪 series warning/tags: golden retriever boyfriend jk, “27” jk 26 reader, oh they are so in love, modern day, vampire activities, blood drinking, fluff, silly, some angst, smut, some gore and blood, blood kink?? (Squint), Jungkook really likes your blood, my own vampire rules?? But similar to traditional vampire rules??, Jungkook is so whipped, past trauma, comedy, y/n is so sweet but also is a little bit of a brat, they are soooo down bad for each other, vampire!Jimin, vampire!Jin, vampire!Hoseok, vampire!Yoongi, other vampire characters (the girlies), these two are little freaks, unprotected sex (Jungkook literally cannot get y/n pregnant), cream pie, fingering, dick riding, oral f and m receiving, discussion of feeding on animals and people, vampire turning trauma, Jungkook is severely afraid of garlic (lmao), vampire traditions and rituals, family trauma, family death
𓆩♱𓆪 description: So your boyfriend is a vampire…It’s actually not too different than having a human boyfriend. He is kind and caring and genuinely loves you. He’s just a touch afraid of garlic and he’s kind of cold. Other than that everything is the same and you couldn’t ask for anyone better. You cannot imagine spending your life with anyone else, except… it would be only your life going on.
which wasn’t a problem… right?
𓆩♱𓆪 teaser word count: 1.4k
Comment on this post if you want to be added to the tag list!!
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
Jungkook was extremely nervous.
This was a conversation he had meant to have for a long time. A year, maybe longer. He always found reasons to delay it, to avoid it. It wasn’t going to be a problem telling you; he had gotten the go-ahead from everyone. Actually, he’d had it for over a year now, but their approval didn’t matter. What mattered was what came after he told you.
Were you going to freak out? Would you believe him? Would you be mad?
A million different scenarios had run through his head all week about how this could go. The possibilities gnawed at him so deeply that he had unintentionally been avoiding you. Not responding to texts or calls as quickly. Avoiding hanging out or dates. It was entirely out of character. The longest the two of you had ever gone without seeing each other was five days, and that was only because of a vacation. Now, over a week had passed, and his silence was suffocating you.
You didn’t think anything was wrong but this sudden distraction and silence from Jungkook was freaking you out. Had you done something or said something to make Jungkook mad? Did you do something that was upsetting? Was he just not feeling it anymore? You had broached the topic of moving in together recently and you wondered if that had made Jungkook uneasy. Everything seemed fine up until now. Almost perfect even, then suddenly Jungkook had completely distanced himself.
You were jumping to the worst conclusions, the biggest one, a break up. Which is what you had been emotionally preparing for. Jungkook was going to dump you and you would just have to deal with that. Easily, you could already feel this would be the biggest break up of your life. The both of you had already shared and done so much together, you couldn’t imagine giving yourself to someone else the same way.
That’s when Jungkook said he wanted to come over tonight to talk about something, you were doing everything in your power to keep yourself composed. You had been shaking and anxious since you got the text.
Even worse when you get the knock on the door.
With your hands still shaking and your heart pounding in your ears. You twist the knob and pull the door open, Jungkook standing with a soft smile on his face standing in front of you. The smile disarming you slightly.
“Hi,” you said, forcing a smile back as you tried to hide the storm brewing inside you.
“Hi baby.” Jungkook hesitates a step forward, but can sense some unease coming from you. “Can I come in?”
You hadn’t realized that you hadn’t opened the door enough that he could enter. You clear your throat, “Yes… obviously.” You open the door and step to the side so he can come in. The pet name was a good sign but you are still on edge.
As he walked in, the silence in your studio apartment felt deafening. Every creak of the floorboards, every breath you took, seemed to echo. You closed the door, the sound reverberating through the small space, amplifying the tension. Jungkook paused in the middle of the room, uncharacteristically quiet, his steps heavy with unspoken words.
You moved around him, trying to read his face. He looked tired and conflicted, his teeth tugging at his bottom lip. He avoided your gaze. With your anxiety spiking, you retreated to the bed, the only real place to sit in your tiny space. Perched on the edge, you gripped the blanket beneath you like a lifeline.
“You wanted to talk?” Your voice was a little hoarse. Feeling like your entire body was about to start shaking.
Jungkook nodded, his fingers fidgeting as if searching for something to anchor him. “I… I don’t really know how to say this,” he began, pacing back and forth. “I’ve been thinking about this for so long, and now that I’m here, I… I don’t know how.”
The growing sense of dread in your chest felt unbearable. You couldn’t take it anymore. “If…” You paused, swallowing the lump in your throat. “If you’re just going to dump me, please don’t drag it out. Just say it.”
Jungkook's eyes widened for a moment, “What?”
You look at him, seeing the visible confusion on his face. “That’s what this is right? You wanted to talk… and that typically means you want to end things.”
“Y/N.” Jungkook starts but with a wave of your hand you cut him off.
“No, it’s okay. If that’s what this is, it's fine, just please don’t make me wait to hear it.” You hadn’t realized but you were digging your fingers into your mattress now. So hard your knuckles had gone white.
Jungkook paused for a second before he laughed, tilting his head. Eyes sympathetic. “Oh baby.” He comes over and kneels on the ground in front of you.
“Don’t laugh at me.” You whine, his smile felt almost mocking now.
“I’m not laughing at you. I’m not breaking up with you.” Jungkook sighs, he reaches and takes your hands in yours. Lacing your fingers together, “I love you, I don’t want to break up.”
You stay silent, his face has returned to its familiar soft nature versus the stressed one a moment ago. He wasn’t lying. “What?”
“We aren’t breaking up.” Jungkook kisses both of your hands, soothingly. Holding them close. Watching your face morph from concern to relaxation as his words settle in. “Why would you think that?”
You let out a heavy sigh you didn’t realize you were holding in, “Oh… We had talked about moving in. I thought I had freaked you out or something and you were going to bolt.”
Jungkook laughed some more, just a quiet laugh under his breath. “You really think asking me to move in together freaked me out? We basically live together already.”
Your mouth falls into a pout, “I don’t know! You were all quiet and weird! I didn’t see you this week and you were barely talking to me!” You lay back on your bed, covering your face with your hands. Maybe you did jump to too many conclusions, but all the behavior this week was weird.
Jungkook gets to his feet but lays down next to you on your bed. “I do have something to tell you and it is serious. I just didn’t know how I wanted to tell you yet so I didn’t want to talk to you until I figured out how I wanted to do it.” He rested his hand on your stomach, wanting to pull you closer but letting you stay where you were.
You peak between your fingers to look at him. Jungkook's eyes are full of love only for you and no malicious intent behind them. “Is it going to give me a heart attack? Like the one you almost just gave me?”
Jungkook shakes his head. “Might be confusing but hopefully no heart attack.”
“Well tell me. I can handle basically any news you have for me now.” You both sit back up on your bed. You pull your legs under you so your legs are crossed together.
Jungkook paused. Now he really had to face the music. You could tell whatever it was really was serious and probably wasn’t going to be easy. He just needed to do it. He just needed to rip the band aid off and say it. Get it off his chest. There was no easy way to say it, and he would spend a lifetime explaining if he needed to.
“Okay.” He stayed quiet for a moment, “I-... shit this is hard.”
You watched as he figured this out in his mind. You could tell he was really jumping through hoops. “You’re not pregnant right? I’m not ready to be a dad.”
You laugh at your own joke but Jungkook just rolls his eyes with a smile. Knowing you aren’t serious and just trying to break the tension. “This is serious!”
“Sorry. Take your time. You know you can say anything to me.” You say with sincerity, reaching a hand to rub his arm.
“I know.” He nodded, “It just changes a lot.”
“Okay now you are really making me nervous.” You shift uncomfortably on the bed, you really hoped something wasn’t seriously wrong. Like he was sick or something.
He looks between your eyes for a moment, the whole nature of the relationship you two had built will change. Everything that you knew would suddenly be different. That terrified him. He couldn’t predict what would happen next. He can say everything perfect and could be just right and still not know what you would do next.
He just needed to say it.
“I’m… I’m a vampire.” Jungkook whispers.
Your eyebrows knit together, “What?”
Jungkook takes in a long long deep breath, meeting your eyes. “I’m a vampire.”
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
A/N: Happy New Year Everyone!!! This was one of the surprises I had for the new year! This is going to be a four part mini series that I have wanted to do for a couple of months!! I hope you all will enjoy it!! I'm not sure when the first part will be posted but I wanted to get the teaser out in the new year so you all could get a little sneak peak (I adore these two and I know you all will love them too, they are so silly).
I was really wanting to do an established relationship but didn't want to do a full story so this will fulfill that for me hehehe. Oh also every chapter is going to be very long so the updates may take some time but will be full of so much content.
#bts#jungkook#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfic#vampire boy#smartkookiee#jungkook x reader#vampire jungkook#supernatural jungkook#bts fic rec#jungkook fic rec#jungkook x oc#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x you#jungkook fanfiction#bts fanfiction#jungkook scenarios#jungkook imagine#bts scenarios#bts imagine#boyfriend jungkook#bts supernatural au#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#jeon jungkook fic#jeon jungkook fanfic#jeongguk x reader#jeon jungkook#jeongguk fic#jeongguk fanfic
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Gone with the Leaves
Pairing: Tommy Shelby / Wife Reader
Summary: Despite your happy marriage to Tommy, you feel an undeniable jealousy towards Lizzie. Perhaps a day in the forest will do you some good.
ao3 link
A/N: I'm starting a tag list, comment if you want to be added :)
-
“You write like you’re running out of time,” mused Lizzie Stark, former prostitute, now Tommy’s secretary. “They have typewriters for those types of things, y’know?”
You saw the volley of cannonballs that launched and subsequently landed on Tommy’s desk as the words left her mouth. It wasn’t that you expected more of poor old plain Lizzie, but you thought that the time she had spent lying on her back staring past the shoulder of a customer at the ceiling would have taught her to read a room. Nevertheless, she stood there, quite amused with herself, smiling stupidly at your husband.
Tommy, who had been sitting at his desk all afternoon attending to letters, the ledger, and god knows what else, peered up from the paper. “What did you say?”
This time, it was your turn to be amused. He pointed accusingly at Lizzie, who by then had realised her impetuous mistake. Her wide eyes fluttered to you desperately, like a bee that had indulged itself in so much pollen that it became stuck in its own honey. No, that was putting it lightly. She looked to you like a frightened child who knew exactly what kind of trouble they were in.
You made sure you looked the other way.
“It was only a silly joke,” came her spluttering apology.
Tommy squinted, and his mouth curled into a frown. Smoke chased the deep exhale from the cigarette hanging between his lips. Your husband carried this terrifying look to him that many feared. Without the peaky cap to cover his striking blue eyes, you saw his glare cut away the cords in Lizzie’s throat with just one look. How could poor Lizzie defend herself from eyes that had witnessed nightmarish things?
“I’m not clear. Is it funny that I sign my letters by hand, or are you above using ink now that you have graduated from the bed to the desk?”
Lizzie’s mouth wormed into a thin line, yet she still looked to you for help. Of what help she thought you would possibly spare, you weren’t sure. For once, Lizzie used initiative and showed herself out.
Your heels clacked across the wooden threshold of your husband’s office. Now that no one was there to disturb you both, you sat down on Tommy’s lap. By then, he was leaning back on his chair, work abandoned for the time being until he could wash the sour sight of Lizzie Stark from his eyes.
“You know I don’t like her,” you said plainly.
There was no need for fake smiles or lies with Tommy. You knew him, and he knew you.
Tommy exhaled loudly, stubbing out the last of his cigarette on his ashtray and taking a swig of whiskey before his calloused hand found your waist.
He clears his throat. “It’s only business with her.”
“I know, but that doesn’t mean I like her any less.”
Tommy loved you, not Lizzie Stark, yet you couldn’t stomach the undeniable jealousy that arose with her presence. Perhaps it was a natural inclination women had toward their lovers. Lizzie had never done anything outwardly wrong to you. So, what was it then that turned your plain teeth into hissing fangs?
Everyone knew that Tommy was one of her paying customers before you met him, but so were all of Small Heath. You never felt insecure in your relationship with Tommy; there was no need to feel threatened by a prostitute. Yet that wouldn’t stop the catty feline that emerged from its slumber when Lizzie’s wandering eyes battered at your husband.
No. Lizzie Stark would never know what it felt like to be loved by a man like Tommy. What you held in your hands each night was a transcendental, unconditional type of love—one that surpassed the heart and soul, which drew two beings together in the most unconventional yet fitting way. The way that covers kept you warm at night, Tommy watched over your hearth and kept the fire burning, even if he were on the other side of the country.
You closed your eyes, leaning into the valley between Tommy’s neck and shoulder as you listened for the bah-dum-bah-dum of his heart. They sat together in silence, cherishing each other’s presence, while Tommy rested his cheek on your head. Outside, the world waited, barking at their front door and scratching at the delicately carved wood. Even the rain lashed at the windowpanes, playing together like one elemental orchestra.
The hand not resting on your waist rose to gently stroke up and down your arm. You shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold.
“I think you have some work to attend to in the bedroom,” you mumbled into his neck.
Your nose searched for the spot where he applied his aftershave.
“Eh?” Came his gruff response.
Your hand wandered down his suit in answer.
-
The sheets were bundled around Tommy’s naked waist when you sauntered back over to the bed with his case of cigarettes in hand. Gratefully, he took the case from your hand, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you into the warmth of his chest. Then he began the usual routine. He fished out a cigarette to offer, but you shook your head no, so he slid it once, then twice, across his bottom lip. On the bedside table, he grabbed the half-empty matchbox to light the cigarette.
Tommy was the resident chain smoker in your house. With an appetite for tobacco and whiskey, you often wondered just how he sustained himself throughout the day. Of course, there were the home-cooked meals at Arrow House waiting for his return, although that didn’t stop you from worrying any less. It was pathetic, really, sitting all alone in his study, twiddling your fingers, and sitting beneath his portrait like you were praying to him. Tommy was no god, no matter how much he tried to convince everyone else. Yet whenever headlights passed the window and lit up the office momentarily, you would stand up and peer out, hoping to spot your husband exiting the car.
He cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to the present. You loved watching the way the cigarette shifted between his lips when he spoke, even more when his hooded eyes looked over at you. Tommy was a man of few words, simply because he didn’t need language to communicate. His body spoke for him in tongues for all his enemies to understand. And more importantly, in a way your body understood.
Your hand abandoned his tattoo to stroke a thumb across his full bottom lip. Lust swelled there, eager to chase the rest of the night away into a haze of pleasure until the sun rose. As tempting as it was, you sighed at the thought. You would rather spend this time taking in your husband, remembering the fine details across his face and body, from the scar in the hollow of his cheek to the rough texture beneath his shoulder blade where a bullet was once lodged. You wanted to trace the sockets of his eyes the way a blind person would, treasuring each valley, mountain, and cut of skin as if it were to disappear the second you stopped touching him.
“You’re beautiful,” you decided, bathed in candlelight, tangled up between the sheets and Tommy’s arms.
Tommy’s brows furrowed, and the cigarette hung dangerously loose from where his lips curled into a frown. He grunted, clearly dissatisfied with your words. Tommy wasn’t beautiful. He was hard, ambitious, and unmovable force.
Beautiful was a conventional word savored for the finest women. To you? It meant so much more. Crafted in a way that would cause people to stare, sure, but there was also a poetic sense to the word. The type of beauty you would use to describe a well-written novel or heart-wrenching poem. Thomas Shelby stood for something, and that was beautiful.
“Then what are you, eh?”
A lazy smile floated onto your face, so much so that you had to bite your lip to refrain from looking devastatingly pleased at his answer.
A woman, a dreamer, a friend, a reader, an achiever. “A wife.”
He huffed, raising his eyebrows playfully.
Why was it that most women felt like they could only fit the frame of one? With Tommy, you were never limited to the endless possibilities. You treasured being a wife the same way you treasured your other roles. Marriage wasn’t the end all be all. Perhaps that’s another lie men spun—that perfectly capable women stopped existing as soon as a diamond ring slid onto their finger. How sad, you thought, to waste away all that potential when men were still free to pursue stupid ideas like war and dog fights.
Tommy was unbothered by traditional ideas like that. Change powered his ambition; he had no time for parallel lines. You could be his wife, a writer, a singer, or a mother—whatever you wanted—and he wouldn’t think of you any less.
You hummed, chasing that cigarette from his lips and stubbing it out in the ash tray by his bedside table. Tommy didn’t seem too heartbroken about it. In fact, there was some mirth in his gaze. His hands traced up your naked spine, pulling your body further into his until you could smell the smoke in his breath.
“Yes,” he breathed in loudly through his nose, “my wife.”
-
The following day, you were invited to the Basnett's hunting party. You would’ve been more enthusiastic to write about your excitement to attend if the whole ordeal hadn’t been so troublesome. Because a few days prior, when you were visiting your husband’s office, you had caught sight of the letter on Lizzie’s desk, a letter that was supposed to reach you days earlier.
“What’s this?” You asked.
“Oh, nothing interesting,” Lizzie had said, too occupied with filing her nails while on the clock.
You kept your composure for the sake of keeping the peace. You didn’t wish to disturb Tommy if he were to walk by.
“This is a letter addressed to me,” you pressed.
“Oh.” She stopped for a moment, then leaned over to read the letter you had pulled from the messy pile. “No, it’s addressed to Tommy.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Shelby,” you hissed quietly, with emphasis on the missus.
“Hm, I didn’t notice.”
“You are paid to notice.” You fought the urge to comment that she was paid for other things not long ago. “How long has this been sitting here?”
Lizzie tapped her cigarette ash into the tray. “The post boy dropped that lot off yesterday.”
Even if it was only two days late to reach your hand, by society’s standards, that may have well been taken as you snubbing the invitation. Frustratingly, you had to cancel your plans that day and personally deliver your letter to the Basnett’s door, citing some excuse of it having been lost in the post.
“That woman is up to no good.” You said glumly that night into Tommy’s chest.
“I’ll speak to her,” he promised in that stoic tone of his.
Whether he had been true to his words, you weren’t sure because Lizzie made an effort to avoid you when possible.
“Oh! Mrs. Shelby! How wonderful for you to join us! Come in, come in. The men are readying their rifles for the hunt outside. How exciting!” Gushed Lady Basnett, shooing you into the atrium of her lavish mansion.
Your riding boots clacked across the floor before being muffled by an intricately woven rug. You stared up at the chandelier, childishly wondering if it would hit you if it were to fall at that moment.
“Right this way, Mrs. Shelby!” Lady Basnett ushered excitably.
You debated if all her energy was for show—to please her husband and be the good wife he expected of her. After she showed you through to the veranda and down to the circle of wives who had gathered under the trees while their husbands readied for the hunt, you decided that no, she must truly enjoy planning social occasions like this, as evidenced by the way she kissed Sarah’s cheek in greeting with a wide grin.
It pleased you to know that Lady Basnett found joy in something. Ever since her eldest died in the war, she has been known to be a bit of a recluse.
“Oh, what a beautiful ring! May we see it?” Doe-eyed Catherine asked.
She was one of the younger wives, like yourself. Catherine married an older man, twice her senior. Many of the wives here faulted her for it behind her back, but not you. You saw more of yourself in her than you did in any of the other women. Because, despite the age gap, the girl seemed to be utterly head-over-heels in love with a man society deemed old-fashioned for her. And how could you blame her when you swore an oath to a gangster of all people?
You obliged and let the wives twist and turn your hand to better inspect the diamonds on your ring finger.
“It’s perfect!”
“How many carats?”
“My Mary would be so jealous!”
After dutifully showing your wedding ring, you noticed the men beginning to mount their horses.
Catherine hooked her arm around yours. “Come on, we are going to be left behind!”
She jovially pulled you along the stone tiles at a speed that made you grateful for wearing riding boots. The backyard was grand in the sense that the acres they owned stretched vastly into the nearby forest. Although there were impressive features, like the hedge they had grown into a maze and the trees that were shaped into birds.
“Lady Basnett owned an aviary of budgies. Dear little things they were, she was devastated when they all escaped one night after the groundskeeper forgot to close the door,” Catherine commented, having noticed the way your head was turned.
You laughed, because you could precisely picture Lady Basnett as the type to fawn over little budgies.
Catherine led you to the horses, where some of the wives were already perched, waiting for the party to leave. None of them carried rifles, but rather wicker baskets strapped to the saddle for the picnic they planned to have at the top of the hill while they waited for their husbands to finish hunting.
Together, you set off, having mounted the back of Catherine’s mare. Deeper into the forest you went, the black mare trotting over loose dirt and rocks. Both of you remained at the end of the pack, preferring to keep to yourselves in light conversation.
Then it all happened so suddenly. One of the rifles went off up ahead, and a flock of birds rushed at you from the break in the foliage, startling your mare. You gasped in shock and reached for Catherine’s jacket to hold on, but only skimmed her. She went face first into the dirt while you were swept into the air like a leaf and fell with the grace of a rock. The ground thundered as the mare galloped into the distance.
“Fuck!” Catherine spat.
(On her fall she had taken a mouthful of soil and leaves.)
“They’ll come back,” you tried to reassure her.
-
Hours later, the two of you still had not been found.
“I was a prostitute before George found me, y’know.”
No, you didn’t know.
“That’s why I’m so young and he so old,” she smiled fondly, laughing as if it were the most normal thing.
You couldn’t find it in your heart to dislike her because of her circumstances. She was your friend, and a true one at that.
What was it that Tommy said? The past is the past.
-
The sun began to set when one of the men from the hunting party found you both huddled together under a tree. Kindly, he let the two of you ride the rest of the way back despite your hesitance to mount another horse.
When you returned to Lady Basnett’s, with Catherine in arm, the sun had been set for at least two hours. You hadn’t realized what trouble you had gotten yourself into until you noticed Tommy’s Bentley parked in the crowded driveway of the mansion. Men stood at the gate, armed and waiting. Catherine opened her mouth to remark how ridiculous it was, but you kept your lips sealed after recognizing the guards to be Peaky Blinders.
Tommy had to be beside himself.
A young boy who was playing between the cars popped his head out when the gates squealed open. His ears perked up, and he ran inside, clutching his peaky cap, to probably inform the adults inside of your arrival. People pooled out onto the front steps, the women covering their hearts and sighing with relief, and the men holding their hats to their chests. But when your husband, Tommy, came storming out, they parted like the red sea.
He stalked across the gravel like a predator, his eyes trained on you with an unblinking stare.
“Are you hurt?” He ignored Catherine, cupping your face and frantically looking between both your eyes as if you would disappear.
Upon further inspection, his eyes were bloodshot, and the white sleeves of his blouse were bundled into the golden garters. Your hands itched to muse his disheveled hair into place, but with all the curious onlookers, you thought better of it.
“No.”
George, Catherine’s husband, was quick to whisk her away inside. You heard Lady Basnett’s voice trailing after them: “Oh my, what a terrible thing. Come now, let me pour you some tea.”
Unfortunately, tea wouldn’t make up for any lost ground with Tommy.
“We’re going.”
You knew better to open your mouth to disagree. This was Tommy being afraid and carrying on. He retreated into himself. It didn’t look pretty or like he cared, but he cared; you knew he cared. It was only that no one else was allowed to know that the great Thomas Shelby felt any emotion.
At Arrow House, he swallowed two glasses of whiskey before saying a word. You were pulling at the hem of the overcoat that Tommy had shook off his shoulders to give you for the ride home. Your fingers just couldn’t stand the anxious silence that rang throughout the room.
“What the fuck happened?”
He stood in front of you, stoic as a soldier but cracking around the exterior thanks to his hand, which itched for the cigarette case inside his pocket. (A nervous tick of his.) You grab his hand between your own before he can fish out the case.
“The horse got spooked. It bucked Catherine and me off, but we’re fine.”
His thumb rubs across your knuckles as he looks past your shoulder out the window.
“Do you know where I was when I got the call? Eh? I was handling some business when Lizzie came in and told me some posh old woman was on the line, saying you were missing.”
He exhaled sharply, dropping his gaze to you, where you noticed his eyes soften.
“I thought…” He broke off.
His chin dropped, and he went to itch his nose with his other hand.
“What did you think happened? Is there something I should know about?” Concern leaked into your voice.
“No,” he huffed, clearing his throat. “It doesn’t matter. You’re home, and you’re safe.”
You bit your lip to stop yourself from saying anything that might push him over the edge. He was fragile in a state like this in the sense that he pushed the stronger, more vivid feelings to the side because you were his wife, not a Peaky Blinder. No, you would never be, even though you married one.
Often, you would wish you could turn into the leaves that swept off the pavement and into the air. Imagine then how much easier life would be for you both—to forget the animosity of life and rise above it all, breathe in that crystal air, and then finally exclaim the truth because up there no one could hear them or cared enough to try anyway.
Cautiously, you let go of his hand and traced your fingertips up to knead away the tension in his jaw.
“Thomas… Do you remember what you asked of me? To help you with the whole fucking thing—”
“From now on—”
“Thomas—”
“From now on, let me know where you are going. I will organize a guard to watch over you.”
‘You write like you’re running out of time,’ Lizzie’s poorly placed joke from the start of the week reverberated in your skull.
Was he?
“I need you,” he breathed, the smell of whiskey fanning over your senses.
You nodded, pressing up on your toes to kiss him. A soft breath escaped him when you pulled away.
“You have me.”
#tommy shelby#thomas shelby#tommy shelby x reader#thomas shelby x reader#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy#peaky blinders#tommy shelby x you#tommy shelby fanfic#tommy shelby imagine#thomas shelby x you#thomas shelby imagine#cillian x reader#cillian murphy fanfiction#cillian x fem!reader#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinder imagine#peaky blinders x reader#fanfiction#fanfic
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Through the Wreckage
SUMMARY: When a devastating tornado tears through town, Tyler Owens faces his worst nightmare: the woman he loves is missing. Tyler is thrust into a desperate search through the wreckage to find her. As the storm's aftermath unfolds, it forces him to confront his fears, regrets, and hopes for the future.
A/N: So got inspired for this after watching Twisters earlier today. Just the anguish that we saw from Tyler when he realized Kate was driving into the tornado made me wonder what would happen if the person he loved was missing or in danger. Hence where we ended up here.
WARNINGS: Destruction (ie: a tornado hit so damaged buildings, smoke, dust, sparks, etc.), Blood, Minor Injuries.
WORD COUNT: 3.6k
TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS
If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.
Glen Powell: Himself (RPF), Characters He's Played
Twisters: Tyler Owens, Boone, Scott, Javi
Top Gun: Maverick: Rooster, Hangman, Bob
Marvel/MCU: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers
WWE/Wrestling: Cody Rhodes, Corey Graves, Damian Priest, Drew McIntyre, Finn Balor, Jimmy Uso, Jey Uso, Kevin Owens, L.A. Knight, Pat McAfee, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins (if there is someone you're thinking of from WWE and they aren't on the list feel free to ask! There are so many guys on the roster that these were the ones that came to mind.)
The tires screeched as Tyler pulled up to the scene, gravel crunching beneath his truck. He barely shifted into park before throwing the door open and jumping out. His boots hit the ground with a thud, and the first thing his eyes locked on was the building—partially collapsed, its front wall completely gone. The inside was exposed like a broken shell, with beams hanging at jagged angles and smoke or dust curling into the air from where drywall and bricks had crumbled. His heart sank like a stone in his chest. This wasn’t good.
Behind him, Boone’s truck came to a stop, followed by Dani, Dexter, and Lily piling out of their vehicles. Tyler barely registered the sound of their voices calling his name as they ran toward him. His world had narrowed to the destruction in front of him, and one thought pounded in his mind: She’s in there.
Pulling his phone from his pocket with shaking hands, Tyler checked the last location pinged from your phone. His stomach twisted. It matched this address. He swallowed hard, the weight of dread pressing down on him as his eyes scanned the crowd of people that had been pulled from the building and huddled together on the other side of the street. His pulse quickened as he searched for you, desperate for even a glimpse of your face. But you weren’t there.
“Tyler, man, slow down,” Boone said, gripping his shoulder as he came up beside him. “Let’s figure out what’s going on—”
“She’s not out here,” Tyler cut him off, his voice tight and raw. “She’s not with them.” He gestured toward the crowd of people being tended to by paramedics.
His chest heaved as the realization hit him like a freight train: You were still inside.
Without another word, he turned and made a beeline toward the first responders standing near the edge of the debris. His strides were long and determined, his jaw set in grim determination as he ignored Boone’s calls to slow down.
The closer he got, the more chaos surrounded him. The air smelled of smoke and damp concrete, and the sound of crackling debris mixed with shouts from firefighters. But none of it mattered.
“Did everyone get out?” Tyler shouted, his voice hoarse as he reached the nearest firefighter. “Did you see a woman—about this tall, light hair?” He motioned frantically, his green eyes darting around.
He already knew the answer from their hesitant expressions, but he refused to accept it.
“Sir,” one of them started, stepping forward, “it’s not safe—we weren’t able to get to everyone.”
“Where. Is. She?” Tyler growled, his frustration boiling over. His voice cracked, raw with fear and desperation. “Her phone’s still pinging from here! I need to know if she made it out!”
Another firefighter shook his head grimly. “We’re still doing sweeps, but the building’s unstable. Most of the front wall came down in the collapse. We can’t risk—”
“Bullshit!” Tyler snapped, cutting him off as he took a step toward the wreckage.
Boone and Dexter were on him in an instant, grabbing his arms to hold him back.
“Tyler, don’t,” Boone urged, his voice low and firm. “You can’t go in there, man. It’s not safe. They’ll handle it.”
“She’s in there!” Tyler shouted, wrenching free from their grip. His voice cracked as he pointed toward the ruined building. “I know she is, Boone! I’m not waiting around while they do their sweeps!” His voice was shaking now, and for a moment, the raw emotion broke through his resolve. His chest heaved, his shoulders trembling as he ran a hand over his face, trying to block out the fear clawing at his mind.
The building groaned, a deep, unsettling sound that warned of further collapse. Tyler’s eyes darted toward it, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. He clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms.
If you were inside, he wasn’t about to stand by and let the clock run out.
“I’m going in,” he muttered under his breath, and before anyone could stop him, he broke into a sprint toward the wreckage.
“Sir! Stop! You can’t go in there!” a firefighter yelled, his voice sharp with authority.
Another called out, “It’s too dangerous! The structure’s not stable!”
But Tyler didn’t stop. He didn’t even slow down. The sound of boots pounding behind him told him Boone or Dexter was probably trying to catch him, but he didn’t care. All he could see was the shattered entrance ahead, the gaping maw of destruction that had swallowed you whole.
As he crossed the threshold, the air inside hit him like a wall—thick with dust and smoke, making it hard to breathe. He pulled his shirt up over his nose and mouth, squinting to see through the haze. The floor was littered with debris—chunks of drywall, splintered wood, and jagged shards of glass. Wires hung loose from the ceiling, some sparking as they dangled.
The creak of shifting metal echoed through the space, and Tyler froze for a moment, his eyes darting upward. A beam groaned overhead, threatening to give way. He clenched his jaw and forced himself to move, stepping carefully over a fallen section of wall.
“Darlin’,” he shouted, his voice hoarse and strained. “Where are you?”
His heart pounded in his chest as he scanned the wreckage, his eyes darting from one pile of debris to the next. The oppressive silence was broken only by the occasional crackle of sparks or the distant shouts of first responders outside.
“Come on, darlin’. Give me something,” he muttered under his breath, his voice trembling. He tried to focus, to ignore the dread clawing at the edges of his mind.
Tyler’s boot crunched on something, and he looked down to see a broken picture frame, the glass shattered across the floor. Around it were scattered papers, children’s drawings, and a few books covered in dust. He swallowed hard, the small remnants of normal life a stark contrast to the chaos surrounding him.
Pushing forward, he weaved through the destruction, stepping over overturned chairs and avoiding the sharp edges of broken furniture. The air grew hotter the deeper he went, the faint smell of something burning making his stomach churn.
And then he saw it.
A shoe.
Tyler’s breath caught in his throat as he recognized it—your shoe, half-buried beneath a pile of rubble. He stumbled forward, dropping to his knees as his shaking hands reached for it.
“Sweetheart?” he called, his voice breaking. He tossed aside chunks of drywall and splintered wood, the sharp edges cutting into his palms. Blood smeared across the debris as he worked, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was getting to you.
Finally, he uncovered your leg, and his heart seized. You were pinned beneath the debris, your body motionless. Dust and grime streaked your face, and your hair was tangled with bits of plaster.
“Sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice trembling as he reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face. His fingers were gentle, but his hands shook uncontrollably.
Leaning closer, he pressed his fingers to the side of your neck, searching desperately for a pulse. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. And then he felt it—a faint, fragile beat beneath his fingertips.
Relief flooded him, and a choked sob escaped his lips.
“Thank God,” he breathed. “I’ve got you, darlin’. You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay.”
At the sound of his voice, you stirred faintly, your head shifting against the debris that cradled it. The faintest groan escaped your lips, so quiet he almost missed it. Tyler froze, his heart skipping a beat as his eyes shot to your face.
“Darlin’?” He said, his voice trembling with equal parts hope and fear. He cupped your face with one dirt-streaked hand, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “Hey, hey, it’s me. Can you hear me, sweetheart?”
Your brow furrowed slightly, and your lips moved, though no sound came out at first. He leaned closer, his ear inches from your face.
“Ty...” The broken syllable fell from your lips like a lifeline, and his chest ached at the sound of it.
“Yeah, it’s me,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m right here. I’ve got you.”
Your eyes fluttered weakly, just barely cracking open, but it was enough. Enough to send relief crashing over him in a wave so powerful it left him dizzy.
“Oh, thank God,” he murmured, his hand sliding down to grip yours. He squeezed it gently, willing his strength into you. “Stay with me. Keep those eyes on me, okay? You’re gonna be fine. I promise.”
You tried to say something else, your voice a faint whisper he couldn’t quite make out. He shook his head, tears pricking his eyes as he crouched lower to meet your gaze.
“Don’t try to talk,” he urged softly. “Just save your strength, darlin’. I’m getting you out of here. Just stay with me, okay? That’s all I need you to do. Stay with me.”
The faintest flicker of a nod came from you, but it was enough to shatter the fragile composure he’d been clinging to. His free hand pressed to his mouth as he choked back a sob, his chest heaving with the weight of his fear and relief.
The building groaned again, a deep, ominous sound that sent a shiver down his spine. He knew he didn’t have much time. He slid his arms beneath you, cradling you against his chest as he stood.
With you in his arms, Tyler turned toward the exit, his focus unwavering despite the chaos around him. All that mattered was getting you out of here alive.
Tyler adjusted his grip on you, holding you closer as he stepped carefully over the uneven ground. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.
The air inside the building was suffocating. Smoke and dust hung thick like a heavy fog, clawing at his lungs with every breath. His throat burned, and each inhale felt like dragging sandpaper across raw skin. He coughed, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before forcing them open again. He couldn’t lose focus—not now.
Sparks rained down from a severed electrical wire overhead, the sharp sting biting into the exposed skin of his arms. He flinched, gritting his teeth as the acrid smell of singed fabric filled the air.
“Stay with me, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice rough and desperate as he looked down at you. “We’re almost out of here.”
Your body shifted slightly in his arms, and a soft, raspy cough escaped your lips. Tyler’s heart jumped at the sound. Panic surged through him, as he saw how shallow your breathing was.
“You still with me?” He called, his voice cracking. “Hey, can you hear me? Talk to me, sweetheart.”
You coughed again, your eyelids fluttering briefly but not opening. A weak, almost inaudible groan escaped you.
“That’s it,” Tyler said, his tone urgent but soft like he was coaxing you back to him. “You’re doing good. Just keep breathing for me, okay? We’re getting out of here.”
He stumbled slightly as the ground beneath him shifted—a section of flooring sagging under the weight of the debris. Tyler’s knees buckled for a moment, and he tightened his grip on you, his heart racing.
“Dammit,” he muttered, steadying himself before pressing forward.
The building groaned around him, the sound of metal twisting and concrete cracking growing louder. He could feel time running out.
Another section of ceiling collapsed behind him, sending a fresh plume of dust into the air. Tyler ducked instinctively, shielding you as debris rained down. A sharp edge grazed the back of his neck, and he winced, but he didn’t stop moving.
The exit was just ahead—a faint sliver of light visible through the haze. Tyler pushed toward it, his legs trembling with exertion. His vision blurred, black spots dancing at the edges as the lack of clean air began to take its toll.
His steps faltered, and he coughed violently, nearly doubling over. For a moment, he thought his legs might give out, but then he felt a small, trembling hand against his chest. Your hand gripped weakly at his shirt, your head lolling slightly against his shoulder.
“T-Tyler...” you rasped, your voice barely audible.
His breath hitched, and he forced himself to keep moving.
“I’m here,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “I’ve got you, darlin’. Just hang on.”
The exit grew closer, but the smoke thickened, clawing at his throat and lungs. Tyler stumbled again, his knees hitting the floor as his body screamed for oxygen.
“No,” he growled, shaking his head as he clutched you tighter. He gritted his teeth and pushed himself back to his feet, ignoring the way his legs trembled beneath him.
The light from the exit grew brighter, and he could hear the distant shouts of first responders outside. They sounded muffled like he was underwater, but it gave him just enough hope to keep going.
Sparks rained down again, burning his exposed arms and neck, but Tyler turned his body to shield you, hunching over as he pushed through the final stretch. His back felt like it was on fire, the fabric of his shirt sticking to blistering skin, but he didn’t slow down.
Finally, he broke through the haze, stumbling out onto the pavement. The fresh air hit him like a punch to the chest, and he gasped, his knees giving out as he sank to the ground.
“Help! Somebody—” he coughed violently, his voice raw and barely audible. “Somebody help her!”
Paramedics rushed toward him, but Tyler’s focus was on you. Your face was pale, streaked with dust and sweat, but your chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. He reached up to brush a trembling hand against your cheek, his fingers stained with soot and blood.
“Stay with me, sweetheart. You’re safe now.” He whispered, his voice cracking as tears welled in his eyes.
Tyler cradled you in his arms, his knees rooted to the pavement as the chaos of the world around him blurred into background noise. His only focus was you.
Your head lolled weakly against his chest, and your breaths were growing more shallow and uneven by the minute. A fresh wave of panic crashed over him as your eyelids fluttered, threatening to close.
“Hey,” he called softly, his voice trembling. “No, no, darlin’, stay with me. Look at me.”
Your eyes opened slightly, your gaze unfocused as you struggled to lift your head.
“I… can’t,” you murmured, the words barely audible.
“Yes, you can,” he said, his tone firm but full of emotion. “You’re not quittin’ on me now, you hear me?”
You coughed softly, your body trembling in his arms. Tyler adjusted his grip, pulling you closer as if he could shield you from the pain and the fear.
“We have plans, remember?” His voice cracked as he spoke, tears welling in his eyes. “Dinner tonight, just you and me. You told me you wanted to get dressed up, and said I needed to wear that tie you like. I’m not lettin’ you out of that, sweetheart. You still owe me a dance.”
A weak smile tugged at the corners of your lips, but it quickly faded as your eyelids grew heavier.
“And the church,” he continued, desperation lacing his words. “The little church your parents got married in. We’ll get married there, just like you’ve always wanted. You can wear that lace dress you talked about, the one you saw at the boutique last spring.”
You made a small sound, something between a laugh and a sob, and your fingers twitched weakly against his chest.
“And kids,” Tyler added, his voice breaking completely now. “Two–hell, however many you want. We’ll give ‘em the best damn life, I promise you that. Just… just stay with me, darlin’. Please.”
Your eyes fluttered open again, glassy but fixed on him.
“Three or four?” you rasped, a faint hint of amusement in your tone.
Tyler let out a shaky laugh, relief washing over him like a flood. He cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing away a smudge of dirt from your cheek.
“Yeah, three or four is perfect, darlin’,,” he said, his forehead pressing against yours as his tears mingled with the soot on his face. “Whatever you want, sweetheart. Just tell me the names you’ve got picked out, and I’ll make it happen.”
You gave a weak, tired smile, and he could feel the slight rise and fall of your chest against his. But your body still felt too limp, too fragile in his arms.
“Don’t you dare close those eyes again,” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. “Stay with me, sweetheart. Stay with me.”
Your gaze flickered once more, but before he could plead again, the paramedics swarmed around you.
“Sir, we need to take her now,” one of them said urgently, but Tyler’s arms tightened instinctively around you.
“I’m not leavin’ her,” he said fiercely, his eyes wild as he looked up at them.
“We need space to help her,” the paramedic insisted, their tone gentle but firm.
Tyler hesitated, his heart warring with his head as he realized he had no choice. He leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead.
“You hang on, you hear me?” he whispered, his voice shaking.
Reluctantly, he let them take you from his arms, his hands trembling as he watched them load you onto the stretcher. His heart clenched painfully as he saw your pale, dust-streaked face disappear behind the blur of paramedics working to save you.
* * * *
The waiting room of the hospital felt like a void. Time moved differently here, stretching out each second into an eternity. Tyler sat hunched over in a plastic chair, his forearms resting on his knees, his hands clasped tightly together. Boone, Dani, Dexter, and Lily sat nearby, their voices low and subdued as they tried to offer support. But Tyler didn’t hear them. His mind was stuck in the chaos of the collapsed building, the sound of your ragged breaths, the weight of your fragile body in his arms.
He stared at the double doors down the hallway, willing someone to come through them with news. Good news. Any news. His burned skin throbbed beneath the bandages the ER nurses had wrapped around him, but he didn’t care. The only pain that mattered was the fear clawing at his chest. The fear of losing you.
“T,” Boone said quietly, resting a hand on his shoulder. “She’s strong. She’s gonna pull through.”
Tyler nodded absently, his throat too tight to respond. He wanted to believe Boone, but the image of you lying so still, your face pale and streaked with dust, was seared into his mind.
The doors finally swung open, and a doctor stepped into the waiting room. Tyler shot to his feet, his heart pounding in his chest.
“Tyler Owens?” the doctor asked, glancing around the room.
“That’s me,” he said, his voice hoarse.
The doctor smiled softly, and Tyler’s knees nearly buckled with relief.
“She’s stable,” the doctor said. “She inhaled a lot of smoke, and there’s some bruising from the debris, but no major injuries. She’s going to be okay.”
Tyler exhaled a shaky breath, his hands dragging down his face as the weight of the world lifted off his shoulders.
“Can I see her?” Tyler asked, his voice cracking.
“Of course,” the doctor replied. “She’s awake, but she’s still weak. Try to keep it short for now.”
Tyler nodded, barely hearing the last part as he followed the doctor down the hallway. His boots echoed on the tile floor, the sound somehow both grounding and surreal.
When he stepped into your room, his chest tightened at the sight of you. You were propped up in the hospital bed, an oxygen mask resting lightly over your nose and mouth. The faint beeping of the monitors was a comforting reminder that you were still here, still breathing.
Your eyes fluttered open when you heard him, and despite the exhaustion etched into your face, you managed a small smile.
“Hey, cowboy,” you whispered, your voice muffled by the mask.
Tyler’s lips curved into a smile, and he pulled a chair up to your bedside, sitting down with a sigh of relief. He reached for your hand, his fingers curling gently around yours.
“You scared the hell outta me,” he said, his voice low and rough. “Don’t ever do that again, you hear me?”
“I’ll try,” you teased weakly, your fingers giving his hand the faintest squeeze.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. Tyler’s thumb brushed over your knuckles, his eyes drinking in the sight of you as if to convince himself you were really okay.
“I meant what I said out there,” he finally murmured, his gaze locking with yours.
You frowned slightly in confusion. “What part?”
“All of it,” he said. “The church, the kids, everything. I want it all with you, darlin’. I want to marry you, and I’ll wear whatever you tell me to.”
You laughed softly, the sound raspy but real, and Tyler’s heart swelled.
“I’ll hold you to that,” you said, your smile softening as tears welled in your eyes. “I want it all too, Tyler. I always have.”
Tyler leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Then let’s start with dinner,” he said. “Soon as you’re out of here, I’m takin’ you to the nicest place in town. No storms, no distractions, just you and me.”
Your fingers tightened around his as you nodded, tears slipping down your cheeks. “Deal. Can we have Italian?”
For the first time in hours, Tyler let himself relax, a small smile playing on his lips as he whispered, “Sure, sweetheart. Anything you want.”
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