#old dog yells at cloud Tumblr posts
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Kill. Murder. Rape. Suicide. Pedophile. Nazi. Hitler. Covid. Dead. Death.
When's the last time you watched a YouTube video or a TikTok video where some or even all of these words were censored, either by being bleeped out like what used to be reserved solely for swear words, or having sound-alike stand-ins (sewer slide, PDF File) or euphemisms (unalive)?
I'm not sure exactly where "unalive" came from, but I want to say it was in a similar batch of Roblox screencaps of children trying to creatively get past wordfilters by telling people to "go commit die." And I guess Fortnite played a role as well. Apparently "game-end" is attributed to a short film covered by Pyrocynical which was made to be family friendly, but I swear I have this memory of official Epic Games promo material using the term and I don't know if this real or not. I don't play Fortnite and I never will, so this was not considered important enough to really properly commit it to memory.
EDIT: It came from a Spider-man cartoon where Deadpool used it in an incredibly in-character way. Thanks, Guy I'm Going to Reference Later in this Post.
It's an incredibly childish word. It seems like it was one that used to be used ironically until TikTok, being owned by a Chinese company where censorship laws are much stricter than here in the U.S., decided that words like "dead" and "death" and even "hole" were too dangerous of something, causing users to start getting creative and adapting these absurd euphemisms and they became so popular that people started using it who weren't even using it as a cheeky way to get around these word filters, on other sites that didn't have these same restrictions.
YouTubers can say the word "death" and "die" and (usually) don't have to worry about demonitization. The self-censoring that I remember starting on this very website, done as a way to either prevent posts being found through search or possibly offending the most sensitive of followers, is now being used by users to get around the restrictions set by giant faceless corporations to protect The Children, whose parents are giving them unrestricted access to the internet at younger and younger ages. I watched a video from an adult YouTuber crying about Newgrounds-style animations that were on YouTube about My Little Pony and about how traumatized he was by these, while also insisting he had good parents.
Good parents would not have let you have unrestricted access to 2012 YouTube unsupervised at age seven. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I gotta be the one to tell you this. I'm sure your parents are very nice people, but they could have easily used the internet to find out what kind of stuff was available on the internet. That was an oversight.
I was an adult on the internet in 2012. If I saw a parent just sit their toddler in front of YouTube, I would have asked them what the hell was wrong with them. Now, I see my cousin's children with their iPads watching videos of a faceless person playing with Paw Patrol figures, and I feel uneasy, but a little more hesitant to say something since my cousin seems well aware of the kind of place the internet is, and is always nearby when his kids are watching things. The internet was a constant presence for me in middle and high school, in the late 90's to early 2000's, and I saw some shit I should not have seen. But the trade-off was that I had a space where I could express myself openly, a place my mom didn't care about and wouldn't see. I clicked things I know I shouldn't have because I was a dumb, curious kid, and my mom was happy to not have to deal with me and have me be quiet, I guess. And my cousin is only a year older than I am, so I imagine our experiences on the early internet weren't that much different, considering he's also a bit of a nerd.
So this YouTuber aims his ire at the animators, who were making animations for other adult fans of the show (which he acknowledges), for daring to make edgy content of something made for children, holding up this children's media as a sort of sacred cow. For comparison, in middle and high school I was watching crude animations of frogs in blenders, stick figures bashing each other's heads into walls, and torture simulators featuring anyone from Pikachu and Elmo to Osama bin Laden. But because kids like him, kids brought up in the age of web 2.0, found these videos and watched them before their age had hit double-digits, those videos got lots of views from other children. And from that, we got Elsagate and Finger Family, videos that are still around but have mutated from featuring Elsa and Spider-man to now featuring Huggy Wuggy from Poppy's Playtime, or Pomni from The Amazing Digital Circus or Bluey from, uh, Bluey. These aren't edgy animations made for and by teenagers and young adults for a laugh, they're videos presumably made by teams of adults to mass produce and fill with as much shocking, click-baity content that doesn't even require being able to understand English to understand the plot, all to get watch-time to make money. There's no artistic merit to it. It's neither satire, nor is it an earnest expression of love for the source material, the latter of which, whether you like it or not, is where most rule 34 falls. No, these videos have only ever been content slop since this started around 2016. And this shit is still happening.
That same YouTuber has made a video about how we need to stop saying "unalive," which is part of what inspired me to post this at all, and I can't help but feel like this dude takes himself way too goddamn seriously, frowning upon "commit toaster bath" and "late term fetus deletus," which my edgelord, former 4channer millennial brain finds funny (it is too late for me, lads). This dude is in his early 20's and it's really interesting seeing someone discover pretty much things I've known since I was his age, but acting like they're these huge revelations. Like yeah, I've known about media influence on culture since I was in middle school, because of the internet, which was new and unrestricted by the Standards and Practices that shackled old media like radio and television. That used to be something that pretty much everybody on the internet was aware of; it's the reason why we came here in the first place. And you are right that giant corporations are censoring people, but also, the internet being corralled into a small handful of websites makes internet culture more homogenized and disposable. People can still meet life-long friends through the internet, but the sites where I first met some of my best friends are digital ghost towns, if they still exist at all, or they've become overrun with users infected by political brainworms that make them have incredibly strong opinions on a one-off promotional video done by Budweiser with a transgender TikTok influencer. You've got better luck making life-long friends through playing in the same Minecraft server together than you do being mutuals on Instagram or Twitter. And while Discord is the closest thing I've been able to find that replicates the feeling of both forum culture and chatrooms of the past, it's got its own set of problems unique to it. I can just say "Discord kitten" and most people who use Discord will know exactly what I mean.
Whoever decided to stop teaching kids about how to be safe online should probably be shot. Facebook made putting your whole-ass name and face and location on the internet not just normal, but people will find you suspicious if you choose not to do that. God, I fucking hate Facebook so much.
He's right, though, about the social contagion effect of language. This was a concern for me on this website a decade ago, but that was all social pressure. There was no corporate mandate cracking down on people, making them type "st*pid" to get around restrictions. That was all moral peacocking, baby. People did that shit to themselves.
Tumblr nowadays feels more sane, just because those of us left after the porn ban got a couple of years to grow up and chill out. But because of the porn ban, we can only really talk about the effects of it and complain, rather than be able to post our smut openly. Human sexuality expresses itself in some genuinely weird ways; I should know, and you should probably donate to Archive of Our Own to make sure there's a space where these things can be expressed without fear of censorship to protect The Children. But "unalive" is a symptom of a much larger problem, which is to sand off all the edges of the internet to make it marketable; the free market is more than happy to cater to the whims of the CCCP if they think it can make them more money. There's a lot of people in China, after all. The internet has more people on it but they're confined to much smaller spaces. Children don't have their own spaces online, and when they do, they're not as carefully moderated, instead opting for either overworked humans overseas, or dumb robots that just filter certain words and just become an obstacle to maneuver around to tell something to kill themselves with the creativity of someone who's at a sixth-grade reading level. People in their 20's are uncomfortable with nudity and sex scenes in films, perhaps under the assumption that it's always exploitation, that these scenes can't have artistic merit and are solely there to titillate, and given the sort of dumbing down of art thanks to Marvel and Disney, this seems like the only natural result when combined with the trauma of finding things online that you shouldn't have at way too young of an age. I do not like where this is going, and it's really saying something that those brought up in a sex-negative, American puritanical mindset only start paying attention when the censorship is affecting how we talk about death, something we have absolutely no problem with glorifying in our culture.
And if you're wondering why I wrote yet another long-ass essay bemoaning the slow death of internet culture and the Weenie Hut Jr's-fication of younger generations, well, it's because of this screenshot from 4chan.
Now if only they could bully out the tradcaths.
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i swear, i can't even find things on youtube anymore. used to be you heard a song in a trailer, looked up the trailer, and someone in the comments already knew the song. now i look up the trailer and YT only gives me three "what we know" and "easter eggs you missed!" videos and then cuts the results with "people also watched" i don't care what other people watch? i want what i searched for?
#youtube gone to the dogs#anyway if anyone can tell me which cover of “happy together” by the turtles was used in “the fbi” trailer i saw i'd appreciate it#old man yells at cloud#ooooh and on top of that#the most viewed video it brings you will have every word you could possibly search for in the title#but it's just a badly edited “fan” video aimed at luring in views
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Best boy
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The human love for pets is so crazy!! This cat from 1938 was loved so much it was memorialised in a photograph, and that love was so honest and relatable that the photograph was kept, and found, and scanned, and shared over decades and decades so that I could see it while scrolling on tumblr. The impact of such a love. Did the cat know it was loved so deeply? Did the owner know their love had such a profound impact? Our Michael ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
#I once tweeted that if had the chance to say one thing to my dog and have her fully understand me it would just be#I love you so much you’re my best friend#I just wanted her to KNOW#old man yells at cloud
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new apartment suddenly felt more like a home. I'd like to feel like I belong to the place I inhabit and I think I am getting there...
#i have a very small room but i like it#it feels cozy. i just need to find some cheap or free basic shelves and then ill have it all nice and tidy :)#i also really like having all my things condensed into one place#having a big apartment on my own was not for me. im like a sheperd dog i want it all within sight#man. i am free of the old place. it is done. it hasnt settled in yet but i am free. i can be happier here. my own place now. wow.#love this so much#basil yells at cloud#im gonna make collages and print things i like to plaster the walls with. place of joy
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I made a new lil banner set for my pinned post.
#*( matches my url ~#*( idk if it should have a dog warning tho#*( but idk why someone would follow me if they're scared of dogs anyway considering the url but idk#*( ive seen it rules before but idr if its anyone tht follows me tho#*( i'll add it just in case ig#&. ( out. ) */ old man yells at cloud /
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Decided to take a bath with my aphrodisiac bubble bath and then read the label and saw “pheromone infused” and I’m really hoping I do not. Regret this at work tomorrow.
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I think I've said this before but it always hilarious to me how people will make lists of "dog whistles and neo-nazi symbols" and it's all just things that they've been using since the 40's. Like I'll go through it and it's stuff like "iron cross", "skull", "lighting bolts" etc. Mate they literally wore it on their chests and hats while marching through cities, you cannot tell me that those symbols are something they made up now, you just didn't pay attention in history class.
#dog whistles#tw nazism#rambles#punch nazis#leftist#leftism#old man yells at cloud#history#history nerd
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I'm sick and tired of the your turn stickers with the "bad luck if you don't blah blah blah"
Are you 13 years old? Are we magically back to 2005?
NO, FUCKING STOP IT
If you want to post your selfie, or dog, or plant have the fucking balls to post it without the excuse of ~it's bad luuuck~
And if you want people to use your dumb chain sticker try actually being creative or funny instead of scaring everyone into making you feel special
#instagram#your turn#bad luck#chain mail#vent#old man yells at cloud#anxiety#i automatically unfollow anyone who shares one#like go be dumb somewhere else#selfie#dog
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Anything. - Max Verstappen x Reader
summary: Max and Y/n can't live without each other.
ANGST IF U SQUIT!
warnings: hospital,scar, kinda cried doing this, parents arguing..
A relationship with Max Verstappen is like sacrificing your own health for happiness. Y/n and Max can't leave each other's side. The couple never remembers what it was like as whiny 12 year olds when they first got together.
The evenings spent doing laundry in the garden of Y/n's grandma's house. Two big curly haired dogs always running around, ruining the clean clothes. Mango vodkas in colored glass cups, a white plastic table and chairs next to the grill.
The streets of the Hungarian countryside as they bicycled to the closest shop, the clouds threatening rain. The grocery list is stained by rain drops when they get to the shop. Hair messy and wet, loud laughing coming from the two.
Dog's teeth as they sliced into her palm, a whine coming out of her mouth. Her grandma driving them to the ER, the stitches itching his hands when he held her's.
Summers with her.
__
The snow falling outside blurred the windows. The netherlands reminded Y/n of stroopewafel and love. Soft humming from Max as they leaned into each other in the car. The house coming into view, the familiar warmth of family wrapped around Max. The two show each other videos on Youtube, Jos in the driver's seat complained about the cold.
The bad attempts at making each other breakfast while trying to stay quiet. Christmas music blasting in their shared earphones, the two switching music. Marshmallow in her mouth as she tried muffling her singing.
Jos screaming at Sophie, white wine stinging their tongues. Their hands worked fast to decorate the tree, hearing the screams and yells of anger from the man soothes the two. The sound is familiar, causing a bubble around them. Max held her hand tracing the scar on her palm.
Ginger spice bit their noses, sneezes coming from the blonde boy. Kisses shared in secret, love shared in secret. Max left wet kisses on her eyelids as she murmured about them.
Christmas with him.
__
Breeze separating the hairs on her head, a sigh coming from her. The car window opened all the way, his head leaned onto her shoulder as she kissed him. Empty pepsi bottles on the car floor. The smell of cheap, fake pine circled the car.
Her hands are on his chest, listening to the soft thud of his heart. One, two, three. She counts, her eyes never opening. The small circle of sleep reaches her and Max chuckles, the rich sound coming out so softly, you almost can't hear it.
He drums on the steering wheel as they drive home. She leaned against the car door, soft, oh, so gentle hums coming from her lips as the city of monaco bustles with night life. His eyes are heavy as he parks down, taking a moment to examine the situation.
The love of his life is sleeping next to him in his car, the monaco night life is around him. He's free.
Springs with them.
Author's Radio; Sometimes, i make beautiful things :)
#max verstappen x reader#formula 1#formula one#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#formula 1 imagine#formula one fanfiction#max verstappen
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doggy design :3
#what's this? An art post?#my art#dog#dog design#old lady yells at cloud#she's a big ol guard dog#who barks at everything djksadsad
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Yandere Smiling Critters x male child reader
Request from Wattpad-! Here you go Dracunyan1987☆
An employee escorted you to Playcare, after the train ride and Elliot’s long speech of course. You were a new kid added to the bunch. You’ve been hanging around in Playtime co for a while, so the employees told the upper staff, then they told Elliot.
Elliot instructed them for you to stay at Playcare, so you’re here now. This place was huge. There’s… 1, 2, 3, 4, 5... 5 buildings, you counted. You looked up at the ‘sky’, and saw ‘clouds’. Further up, you could see glass, is that the real sky?
The same employee escorted you over to home sweet home, and you were pretty shy, due to you being new to the huge place. The tons of people, toys, big buildings, it's all so new. And kind of scary, due to the big toys. But you do like one.
Kissy… Missy? You think that's her name. She's really sweet.
You entered Home Sweet Home and saw a bunch of kids running around. And… Are those animals..? A dog, a bunny, a bear, a chick—
“Oh, hello!” Somebody greeted you, being out of your vision so you had to turn around.
“You’re new here right?” You nodded your head, being a little surprised by the sudden interaction.
“Ok! I’m PickyPiggy! What’s your name?” You said yours, and she brightened up by that. Even if you were shy, you could at least introduce yourself. Hm. You’re an interesting one.
“Here, follow me! I’ll introduce you to the other critters!” You raised your eyebrows at that, there’s more? How many? You hope there isn’t too much.
Picky took you somewhere, hopefully actually taking you to the critters. She did, no worries.
“Guys! There’s a new kid and—” The other critters were dealing with the kids, not having time for introducing themselves. “Oh.. Uhm..”
Dogday was dealing with telling kids not to be rude. Kickin was trying to get his soccer ball back from the kids. Craftycorn was trying to get her art supplies back from little 5 year olds. Bobby was being crowded by random 7 year olds. Bubba was looking for his math papers, that were stolen by kids. And Hoppy was being dragged around by younger children.
You, as a 6 year old, not knowing what’s going on, couldn’t even take a bit of charge. So you were standing there, waiting for something(other than this) to happen. Picky was getting impatient, so she raised her voice, just a little ^_^!
“GUYS! THERE IS A NEW KID HERE!! YOU NEED TO INTRODUCE YOURSELVES!!!!” It went quiet. Nobody expected for a critter to raise their voice! Picky had no problem though.
“... Oh uhm! E- Everybody gather at your tables and PLEASE resume your activities!” Dogday spoke up, if he could sweat, he would, he’s never seen or heard Picky yell before…
You hid behind Picky, somewhat trusting her more than anybody else at this place. Also you were shy. And new. I’ve said that already, right?
Dogday saw your shyness and reassured you, “It’s okay little one! This place is safe! Even with the chaotic kids… Anyways, we are the smiling critters! I’m Dogday! … Guys, introduce yourselves—”
“I’m KickinChicken! I like sports—”
“ANYWAYSS!! I’m Hoppy Hopscotch! I’m the better version of Kickin!” “HEY!”
“I’m Bobby Bearhug, I do love.. Stuff..”
“I’m Craftycorn! I do art, and accentuate creativity!”
“I’m Bubba Bubbaphant! The ‘smart one’, that’s what the kids call me…”
“I’m sure Picky Piggy already introduced herself to you, right?”
You nodded your head, still being behind her. You were such a cutie!
“Alright! There’s one more, but he’s.. Somewhere… I’m not sure where he is…” You looked around, trying to see if that ‘he’ is in the room.
“D- Do you mean that one..?” You asked, pointing to a high area. It looked like nothing was there, but you could see his white beady eyes in the shadows.
“Oh! Yeah! That’s Catnap!” Dogday said.
You stayed staring at him. Slightly wondering why he was up there and not down here. He seemed mysterious, especially with that purple color.
“Oh and— What’s your name buddy?” You tensed up, you have to say your name… Again?
Picky saw that you didn’t really like speaking that much, so she did it for you. “Okay kiddo! Would you like to do the activities, or take a tour of the place?” Well, you were hungry, but he didn’t state it as an option.
Your stomach spoke for you, saying you were hungry with a loud rumble. Some of the critters giggled from it, “Guys… Anyways, you’re hungry right? Do you want some food?”
You nodded your head. No duh you’d want some food.
After eating, you wanted a tour of the place. There were a ton of rooms, but since you came out of nowhere, there wasn’t really a room ready for you. The critters had a room, so you could stay there when it was time to sleep.
The critters now having an introduction, and a bright smile, you could trust them. For now.
You did the activity with Picky by your side, because you trusted her the most. You quickly did the activity, proving your smarts to somebody. Bubba Bubbaphant. He found you quite the smart kid, and it’s your first day here!
Good job.
For the next few weeks of being at Playcare, you had a lot of reasons for the critters to like you, you were also clingy to them, so they can’t ever be lonely.
They wanted to keep you here, particularly getting a little bit more mad than usual if somebody was rude to you. One time a kid stole your art supplies, Craftycorn got more mad than usual, she was kind of holding back on fully outlashing at the kid.
… You were doing something to them.
They didn’t want you to have your own room. They wanted to keep you in theirs.
Hm. You wanted to meet Catnap, but couldn’t, he didn’t come out at day, he came out at night. And at night, you were asleep. What if you secretly stayed up one day?
“Good night everybody!” Dogday said, everybody said it back, but you didn’t. (Almost) All of the critters noticed this, wondering why you didn’t respond back like you usually do.
“What if I stayed up..? I wanna see uh, Catnap. That’s his name, I think.” The critters looked at each other, communicating whether it was a bad idea. “Well, the workers never come in here. So we won’t really get in trouble..” Kickin spoke up.
They all agreed to stay up, for some time, not pull an all-nighter or something. They’re all talking, while you were silent. Finally, the sound of a door creaked open. There he was! Catnap!
It went quiet again, you got out of ‘your’ bed(Which is Catnap’s) and went up to the cat. You two stared at each other. You didn’t know what to say, Catnap didn’t want to talk. It wasn’t awkward, for you two at least. The other critters didn’t know what to do in this situation.
You let out your arms, signifying you wanted a hug. The other critters were wary about that, Catnap wasn’t really into that stuff, especially when it came to children.
But, he actually hugged you! Everybody in the room was bewildered by this! You really are the chosen one! Yeah you’re staying here.
Forever. Hopefully.
A/N|| I almost broke my back putting in the different colors on my computer🤣🤣
#poppy playtime#poppy playtime x reader#smiling critters#dogday#catnap#dogday x reader#catnap x reader#picky piggy#picky piggy x reader#hoppy hopscotch x reader#hoppy hopscotch#kickinchicken#bobby bearhug#bobby bearhug x reader#bubba bubbaphant#bubba bubbaphant x reader#craftycorn#craftycorn x reader#male reader#male child reader#smiling critters x reader#smiling critters x male child reader#smiling critters x male reader#smilign critters x child reader
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DISJOINTED - han taesan x reader
there are far worse things to be addicted to
PAIRING: taesan x reader GENRE: established relationship, fluff | WORDCOUNT: 1.7 k WARNINGS: weed/marijuana use, smooching, minimally suggestive
The high hits you slowly, then all at once. Each time you double over to echo Jaehyun’s laughter at Riwoo’s jokes, your consciousness moves first and your body follows, slow and stilted.
There’s a fuzziness behind your eyes, like the static of Taesan’s old records that has you reeling, head tilting back against the seat of the scratchy sofa.
You stay like that for a bit, letting your thoughts drown out the faint hum of noises bouncing around the walls of Leehan’s basement. Thinking of nothing and everything. Losing yourself in the haze.
There's a drag of cold fingertips against your cheeks, wandering to tuck your stray hairs behind your ear, that brings you back. The same touch tugs at the lobe gently to coax your eyes open.
You’re rewarded with a glimpse of Taesan’s soft eyes as he takes you in. The lazy smile that pulls a bit wider at your lips, and the breathless laugh that escapes them as you reach out for him instinctively.
Taesan obliges, like he always does, scooping you up from your spot on the floor to flop unceremoniously half on the sofa, half on his lap.
“You’re finally here. I missed you, you took fucking forever,” you complain with a stifled yawn. A swift kiss is pressed to your cheek, the silent apology accepted with a roll of your eyes.
“You can't possibly have missed me that much. Looks like you were having tons of fun on your own, getting started without me,” Taesan teases. His hands slide under the hem of your shirt to rub at the small of your back, snorting as you jolt at the icy temperature.
You try to wiggle away from his frosty touch but Taesan only snakes his arms around you tighter, trailing goosebumps across your skin. “I didn't have much choice,” you grumble, “It was either smoke or have Jaehyun hog and finish it all before I can even get a whiff.”
There's a faint yell of indignation from across the room that you ignore, instead busying yourself with untangling Taesan’s chains. You follow and separate the twists in the links up towards his neck. Your boyfriend stills his motions, busying himself instead with admiring the way your brows knit as you pull them apart.
(It was a mystery to you how Taesan’s necklaces always managed to get so tangled. You could never recall him having such problems before you started dating. Luckily for him, you were more than happy to indulge his whims and untangle them at the beginning of every meeting.)
When you’re nearly done, and you've reached the nape of his neck, the pads of your fingers brush against the long strands of Taesan’s overgrown hair. They come back cold, and you freeze looking up to blink at him owlishly, “your hair’s wet,” you say, voice tinged with bewilderment.
Taesan leans back in a laugh, hands too occupied holding your waist to shield his smile like they normally would. “You’ve only just realized?” He shakes his head like a dog, spraying you with the remnants of the droplets that cling to his bangs.
The splatter of cold beads makes you shriek and once again you try to cringe away from him but Taesan keeps you firmly in his grasp, smirking as you resign yourself to your captivity. “I showered before I rushed over here,” his voice teasing as he raises an eyebrow at you, “how far gone are you that you didn't even notice?”
It's futile to deny it when your eyes are so clearly rimmed red and your head so far in the clouds but you do it anyway. “I'm not that high,” you wink, “I was just too distracted by your pretty face to pay attention to anything else.”
Taesan simply snorts, unconvinced but amused enough to not contest your obvious lies. He settles into the couch, resting his head atop yours and a comfortable silence descends upon you. Drowsiness tugs at you and you melt with your head lolled in the crook of his neck while the pair of you watch the antics of the others.
Normally, you'd be thrown in the mix, bickering with Jaehyun and playing tricks on Sungho, but the high has you choosing to refrain from participating. Instead, you’re buried in Taesan’s arms, refusing to shift from his lap even when he jokingly whines about being suffocated and crushed.
Past all the exaggerated groans, Taesan loves nights like this when you’re pliant, putty in his hands and clinging to him like a second skin. Taesan is free to monopolize you without any teasing remarks. Relishing instead the way you shake with laughter at the jokes he whispers into the shell of your ear, and the giggles he draws from you when he noses at your neck playfully.
“Alright lovebirds, if you’re done being gross, I rolled the last of it. We’re headed out to grab some pizza if you two want to come,” Leehan approaches with a joint held out in his grasp. You immediately perk up, reaching for it eagerly when a much longer arm intercepts, grabbing it before you can blink.
“You guys can go, we’ll stay here. Y/N is more out of it than usual,” Taesan interjects, ignoring the way your jaw drops and the subsequent protests that follow. The whole time he holds the joint firmly out of your reach as you wrestle the limb down to try and take it.
The commotion is enough to attract Jaehyun's attention, and he descends upon you like a hyena. “Awww little baby Y/N can't hang?” His laughter rings mockingly through your ears as he pinches your cheek.
You splutter at the accusation, staring at Taesan to see if he was really going to let your dignity be slandered like this. “Taesan you're not serious?” you whine, trying to shake reason into him as the rest of the boys file out of the basement with calls of goodbyes and laughs.
“I am serious, I’m not gonna let you smoke yourself sick baby,” Taesan shakes his head, easily slipping in the pet name now that it was only the two of you. You give up on arguing any further, making your displeasure apparent with the way you cross your arms tightly, refusing to face him.
Taesan only chuckles in amusement at your petty display, digging into the pocket of jeans for his lighter. He dangles it in front of you, the familiar scuffs marring the engraved silver. “Wanna do me the honors?” his eyebrows wiggle goadingly.
There's a brief silence as your narrowed eyes ping pong between the smirk on his face and the lighter, your initials that Taesan had etched into it staring back at you mockingly. With a tortured sigh you snatch it from him, “I can’t believe you’re making me light you a joint that you won't even let me smoke,” you grumble.
“But if I light it myself you’d end up sulking because I didn't ask,” he snorts, knocking his head softly into yours. You don't bother responding (mostly because he’s right), busying yourself by popping the cap off and flicking the lighter on.
Taesan ducks closer to let the tip of the roll between his teeth meet the flame, the fire casting a warm light across the contours of his face. His eyes flicker up to meet yours and you're trapped in the warm amber of his gaze, remembering just why this was one of your favorite things to do.
The soothing chill of his fingers wraps around yours to hold the lighter steady until a tendril of smoke rises between you two and he’s leaning back with a content hum.
It's a captivating sight, the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he inhales. The smoke billowing from Taesan’s plump lips to curl and swirl upwards, charting the lines of his features. You can see the moment he takes to assess you, mulling over an idea while you patiently wait for him to share what's occupying his mind.
His answer comes in the form of hands tracing your jaw to pull you in closer, fingers tilting your chin upwards. There’s a gentle tap on your lower lip prompting you to part them, you comply and Taesan grants you a pleased smile at your uncharacteristic obedience.
It makes your cheeks burn with an odd satisfaction, but you have little time to think further as Taesan takes a deep drag of the joint, your chin still firmly in his grasp. He leans in, pausing to wordlessly ask your permission and when you lean closer, he meets you halfway.
There’s a quick brush of his lips against yours, lingering for just a second till he’s exhaling. And Instinctively you inhale, the whisper’s distance between you bridged by a stream of smoke.
You hold it in the back of your throat for a moment before letting go, and in the same breath you rush to tease him airily, “I thought I was banned from smoking for tonight, your highness.”
Taesan slides his hand from your chin down towards your nape, his touch sweeping against your jaw. “Well… you looked so pitiful I decided to have mercy on you,” he drawls, eyes glinting mischievously in the dim light.
“Yeah right,” you scoff, “More like you just wanted an excuse to kiss me.”
Taesan shrugs, looking far from bashful as he admits smugly, “Not that I need an excuse to kiss you but sure, that might have been a motivator.”
And now you’re breathless for a different reason as Taesan takes full advantage of the complaints that threaten to spill from your lips, silencing them instead with a firm press of his mouth on yours.
The minutes pass by like that, the two of you caught in languid kisses, only separating for much needed air or for a heatless glare when Taesan bites at you teasingly.
The joint’s long abandoned, lost somewhere in the crevices of the couch to be found weeks later. For there's no high quite as intoxicating or as addicting as the one you get from Taesan’s lips.
a/n: this started as a 2 am brain rot that I ended up spending way too much time on. hope u enjoyed :)
stream HOW? n EWF!!! n tell me ur fav song off the album (mine's amnesia)
#boynextdoor scenarios#boynextdoor imagines#kflixnet#k labels#taesan x reader#taesan imagines#Taesan scenarios#boynextdoor x reader#Taesan X you#boynextdoor fic#taesan fluff
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I love this picture of me. I said 🥺. I’ve never done anything wrong in my life.
#this is a school picture and I always wonder if they told me to do that with my hands#yo this baby has the biggest saddest little dog eyes I’ve ever seen. let’s make her pose like a sad orphan child#old man yells at cloud
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If the primarchs had social media
Lion: There is nothing on his accounts. Not even a profile-picture. Someone is still logging into them every so often. Fulgrim: On all the plattforms. Primarely family-blogger: look at my perfect kids, my perfect spaceship, my perfect partner, my perfect healthy breakfest, my perfect make-up. OnlyFans-account on the side. Get‘s into controversies all the time. Perty: Angry rants. Has spent to much time on Twitter. Old man yells at cloud type of stuff. Jagh: And this is how we‘ll break the speed-limit today! Talks about bikes, how to mod them, drives them around very fast, ect. Occasional horse-pictures. Leman: Puppies! Just cute dog-pictures and -videos, of every canine he encounters in the galaxy Rogal: He isn‘t very good at social media. Sometimes posts bad selfies or pictures of his building projects. Completly ignores all of Pertys hate-comments Konrad: He writes fanfic. Edgy, dark, not very good fanfic. The protag is a clear self-insert and Mary Sue and brings justice to all the settings he puts them in. A ton of spelling errors. The plot barely holds together. He is very proud of it. Sang: He has official accounts with pretty pictures of him everywhere, but he has some private accounts that are just like his art and sometimes cute family pictures. Also why can I see Sang having a Vtuber-persona he livestreams with so people don‘t recognize him? Ferrus: Appears on Fulgrims accounts fairly often. Maybe does some gaming-content on the side Angron: Everything is very sporadic and when it‘s there it‘s pretty angry. Surprisingly talks a lot about issues with his disabilities and that he needs way more help than he get‘s and also all his trauma. Struggles a lot with typing and forming sentences, so it can be hard to understand at times. Roboute: A channel with tutorials for stuff like running a planet or putting on armour. If people ask him to explain something he can just send them a link. Morty: Not very active, sometimes pictures of some funky plants and little texts about them. Magnus: Video-essays. He dissappers for months and then returns with a four-hour-video (minimum) about the most random topic. Hugely popular. Horus: Look at my sexy abs! Look at my huge bicep! Soft-porn-pictures of him and his sons. Probally also had OnlyFans. Lorgar: Social media is great for preaching! So he does that! Deletes all his accounts after monarchia. Vulkan: Food! He loves trying out new recipes from diffrentc cultures! At the start of every recipe is a pagelong story, which people actually read Corvus: Also writes Fanfic. Very, very good fanfic if a bit edgy at times. Kind of has a rivalery with Konrad. Also runs a very active blog, about both writing and justice, with occasional bits about guerilla-warfare Alpharius Omegon: Just the worst trolls. Dozens if not hundreds of sockpuppet accounts. They are having a good time.
#warhammer 40k#primarch#silly headcanons#lion el'jonson#fulgrim#perturabo#jaghatai khan#leman russ#rogal dorn#konrad curze#sanguinius#ferrus manus#angron#roboute guilliman#mortarion#magnus the red#horus lupercal#lorgar aurelian#vulkan#corvus corax#alpharius#omegon
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❝𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙣𝙤 𝙂𝙤𝙙, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝❞
Pairing:
Ghost!Thomas Shelby x Reader
Summary:
“There’s no such thing as ghosts.” Those were the last words before her lack of knowledge of them ceased. You. Just one simple word for what the shadow of a man in her childhood’s home, Arrow House wanted.
Warning(s): SMUT. Dub-con. Implied age gap (obviously, but everyone’s grown). Mentions of death. Exophilia. P in V. Obsession. Depraved??? Possessive!Thomas. Major death at the end (gore-ish). Minors, dni! Note: They didn’t directly interacted when she was a child until she moved back in the house. I’m trying to go for Don’t Blame Me vibes.
Word Count: 5k
Act I
She could hear the wheels rumbling as the gravel hit the bottom of the vehicle they were driving away in. The sky was grey with dense clouds rolling through
“Y/N?” Her mother’s voice grabbed her attention as the vehicle drove around the fountain, causing her to turn her head away from the window to her mother in the front passenger seat.
Her mother gently clasped her hand with her nimble fingers, “it’s for the best, honey.” She said gently, looking at her with kind eyes that her heart clenched at the idea of leaving everything she had known behind to move to Northern Ireland for her father’s work.
O’ Children was playing on the radio, and her lips curled up in delight since it was one of her favorite songs she would force her father to play.
Hey, little train, wait for me!
I once was blind, but now I see.
She turned her head to look back to the house they were leaving behind, one of the hired staffs were moving their furnitures into the moving company vehicles, and she observed the state of the manor. Her eyes kept straying to the entrance door that was left wide open, and the stale light was spread throughout the hallway.
Her breathing was ribbed when she noted a translucent figure filling in the gap of the doorway. The figure resembled a man, towering over the domain of the threshold.
A shadow, her mind whispered. Those words she did not understand, too young for her mind to understand what those words had meant.
She was far away from the house that she could not tell the features of the man, however, she knew he was watching the vehicle slowly driving down the road past the gates as the house began to get smaller and smaller.
Strangely enough she’d swore she felt like she was leaving the shadow of the man behind.
Hey, little train, wait for me.
I was held in chains, but now I’m free.
Thirteen Years Later
Arrow House stood still as if time had never casted a spell on it, the only signs of the place being affected by time was the cascading vines on the side of the house, the stains on the glass panes of the windows, and the color of the bricks was dull as if the soul had left its host.
She supposed it did because no one had lived in Arrow House for years.
Not since she was eleven years old and that was thirteen years ago.
She had no idea that the house was still under her parents’ possession, she had thought they sold it when they left the way they left the place.
Her parents died five years ago prior to Christmas, and Johnny Dogs took her in along with Curly who was his only roommate at that time.
For the life of her, she could not figure out why he had preferred to be called Johnny Dogs. He used to make jokes of how he felt like a reincarnated person, but really his parents would call him that.
She paused after placing her hand on the handle before pushing it sideways to open the door. The hinges squeaked as she pushed inward into the stale hallway, brightly lit by the sun through the windows.
The parlor looked very empty, and lonely that she felt small standing in it. She heard her friends yelling at each other for instructions as they started taking things out of the vehicle.
Her eyes raked the place before her, taking the things that made her remember what she did in the parlor years ago.
As she reminisce, she heard a clang as it hit the floor, her head was drawn to the sound and she spotted an object.
A bronze bullet rolled on the floor as if someone had pushed it down the hallway towards the dining room. She walked towards it after it slowed down to a stop.
She bent over to pick it up, curious
When she felt slight texture on smooth surface, she twisted the bullet until she saw the carving. She ran her thumb over the name that was etched in the metal.
Tommy
She frowned when she noticed the portrait that taken over the dining room, she had forgotten about it.
She used to play with her toys under the enormous portrait as if it was protecting her from any danger lurking in the dark shadows of the room.
She was surprised it was still on the wall, ageless, she knew what year it was painted; 1923. And yet the canvas did not turn yellow or it was lacking a layer of dust from decades of just hanging on the wall.
It was a figure of the man standing next to the white beautiful horse.
It felt like he was alive in the painting, staring down at her with eyes so cold and empty from the canvas. Iron clad control gripping the manor with the coldness in his gaze. She immediately pocketed the carved bullet into her jeans when she heard Curly’s voice, questioning about the portrait considering it was the only wall decoration hanging on the wall, every room and hallways in the manor were barren.
“I think we tried to take it down, but it refused to budge so we left it there.” She shrugged, frowning at Curly’s facial expression.
“It’s creepy,” he shuddered, letting out a light whimper before walking towards the entrance to return his tasks.
She rolled her eyes before turning to look at the portrait again.
She’d swore she saw a mere smirk curling on a stoic man’s face.
Perhaps Curly was right, the portrait was displaying creepy undertones.
Act II
The sun was barely rising above the horizon when she was dragged out of the bed due to the sounds of echoing loading off the weapon.
Her fingers grappled onto the white curtains, and pushed it off to the side until she could see out of the bay window. She frowned when she only saw a heavy thick haze rolling around across the fields. She loved the morning dews, but hated the thick fogs in the morning.
The sun was coming up, but the fields were in a state of stale gray and muddied in a way it would look like it came out of Texas Chainsaw Massacre film. The film gave her nightmares when she was younger until she grew up, and was able to get over her aversion of horror films.
However, she did not think she got over the aversion of paranormal activities that had been occurring in the last several days since they had moved into the manor.
She had sworn she saw a shadow gliding across the field. The shadow raised something in the air, aiming it at something.
She flinched when the sound of gunshots went off, her fingers dig into the material of the curtains as the fog thickened and then the gunshots stopped firing.
The walls were quite thin in a way where she could hear the door swinging open and hefty footsteps were being made on the hardwood floor on the other side of the house.
“Bloody hell was that?” She heard Johnny shouting down the hallway causing her to turn her head towards her bedroom door.
She tittered before returning her gaze back to the fields from afar, only to see it was empty of fog and it was coming alive in a sense as the sun casted its light on the fields.
She frowned. Had she been seeing things?
“Nothing!” She shouted back after she dragged the curtains to block out the morning light through the window.
Johnny dragged out a box onto the coffee table in the library. The box had a stale cream borders on the front of it along with the design of a board and a planchette, and thick letters in the style that resembled to the sixties or the seventies. A Ouija board.
“What is that?” She asked flatly, recognizing the box as she sat down on the soft threaded rug next to the coffee table. However, she waited for her friend to confirm it for her.
She eyed the box with distaste. She had never used one before because the idea of it was ridiculous. Not only that, but her mother had expressively forbidden the board in this house. Something about not wanting to draw spirits into their home. While Johnny lifted the lid of the box to set it up, she spent her time observing the environment around her. The walls were lined with shelves and books especially scholar books.
The books on the shelves had not been touched in years that it was layered with dust and moth bites along with the smell of old parchment between pages. She loved the smell of old books, but she hated the smell of dust. She could tell when she was living in the house they only cleaned the ordinated desk and other furniture they actually used. The books were merely placed as decorations despite it had not moved in years since the previous owner’s -prior to her parents- death.
She heard Curly stepping into the library and she turned her head to see him eyeing the board set up fearfully. “I don’t know about this,” he mumbled, shifting his feet nervously. “I don’t want to disturb the spirits.”
“For the last time, Curly. It is not haunted.” She said sharply, eyeing him with slight annoyance. She loved Curly, but his thoughts would get the best of him. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”
It still did not explain strange occurrences that had been happening around the manor, although she would never admitted to her friends.
The righteous indignant expressions would be sent to her way and she would never hear the end of it at all. She loved her boys, but they can be a little too much when paranoia would get the best of them.
“Oi! Are you trying to drive us out of here when we barely lived in this place?” Johnny complained before instructing Curly, “sit down.”
Curly sat down next to her by the coffee table after setting up the fireplace with a few wooden logs to start off with.
She plucked the planchette from Johnny’s grip, setting it on the board on the 'G' as the thin white paper instructed her. They each placed a hand on the piece as she read the instructions in her other hand.
“Johnny since you want to cause chaos tonight, why won’t you be the first to start us off.” She said flatly, Curly nodded in agreement.
Johnny gave them a glare before grumbling. “Are there any spirits with us tonight?”
For a moment, it was completely silent as they all waited with bated breath to see if the planchette would move. A minute ticked by, and then another.
“Are there any spirits with us in this room?” She asked firmly.
They waited for another minute before a strong smell began to overtake the surrounding.
She inhaled sharply, wrinkling her nose, recognizing the scent of tobacco burning from years prior when she was a child. None of her parents were smokers, and she had concluded it was one of the memories of the room. However her eyes widened when she felt the object beneath her fingers shifting.
The planchette moved to the word YES.
Her eyes shot at Johnny’s wide eyes before returning her gaze to the object. Curly whimpered next to her.
She hesitated before she asked, “what is your name?”
The planchette moved slowly across the board as it targeted the letters.
It stopped on the letter in the middle on the second row, “T.” Then it barely moved to the first row and landed on the letter next to G, “H.” The next letter ended up on the letter “O” on the second row on the other side of the board, then the planchette landed on the last letter of the first row, “M” then it moved across the first row to the first letter which was “A”. At last it stopped on the letter on the second row next to T, “S.”
THOMAS
Tommy? She asked to herself, remembering the engraved name in the bullet sitting on top of her dresser.
“What do you want, Thomas?” She questioned shakily, remembering the ghosts would have their own unfinished businesses whether they were tethered to something.
YOU
It was a declaration. A warning, a reminder, and an order all in one. To her, it was just downright terrifying. Nevertheless, she snapped herself out of her daze of shock.
“We’re done,” she muttered indignantly, pushing herself off the floor until she stood then she snatched the board. The planchette flew off to the side due to the aggression she inflicted on the board.
“Wait! No-“ she heard Curly attempted to stop her.
“You have to say goodbye before-“
She threw the decorated laminated cardboard into the fireplace, and she ignored the commotion of Curly’s voice as it reached a shaky high pitch.
“I said we are done with it. It’s stupid, and pointless!” She glared at them before turning on her heels to storm out of the library.
She would never tell them that she was terrified.
Act III
With soft echoes of her footsteps as she reached to her bedroom, creaks radiating as to reflect the true age of the house she was currently residing in. She turned the brassy knob opening the door, but she frowned when she felt something different in the air. As if the air particles were stilted, as if it was disturbed.
With her eyes, she scanned the bedroom and something caught her gaze. She zeroed in the direction where there was something on the mattress.
She found a simple sheet on the edge of the bed, recognizing the parts of the poetry to one of her favorite collection of poems.
Now Bonnie and Clyde are the Barrow gang
I'm sure you all have read.
how they rob and steal;
and those who squeal,
are usually found dying or dead.
There's lots of untruths to these write-ups;
they're not as ruthless as that.
their nature is raw;
they hate all the law,
the stool pigeons, spotters and rats.
They call them cold-blooded killers
they say they are heartless and mean.
But I say this with pride
that I once knew Clyde,
when he was honest and upright and clean.
But the law fooled around;
kept taking him down,
and locking him up in a cell.
Till he said to me;
"I'll never be free,
so I'll meet a few of them in hell"
If they try to act like citizens
and rent them a nice little flat.
About the third night;
they're invited to fight,
by a sub-gun's rat-tat-tat.
They don't think they're too smart or desperate
they know that the law always wins.
They've been shot at before;
but they do not ignore,
that death is the wages of sin.
Some day they'll go down together
they'll bury them side by side.
To few it'll be grief,
to the law a relief
but it's death for Bonnie and Clyde.
Her eyes widened when there was something made known of a presence when she felt one hand running firmly up the length of her back to rest on the back of her neck.
The sound of the paper crinkling before it floated into the air as it fell down to the ground.
She was frozen at this point, not budging at all, her breath caught in her throat before her eyes closed and squeezed tightly as if she could make whatever was touching her disappear.
It had to be him. It had got to be. There were absolutely no explanations for what she had gone through in the last few hours. No, scratch that, for the last few days.
The one who turned her world upside down with its presence through what she had thought a simple silly game when it turned out it was not a child’s game to play. Absolutely not a game for children nor for someone like her or her beloved friends, Johnny and Curly.
She felt something lingering in the crook of her shoulder, and her breathing stilled even more when she felt what she recognized as a face nearing her neck, the tip of his nose ghosting on her skin before she felt his lips followed.
Immediately, she stepped away, her eyes wide as she slowly turned around to face the bay window of her bedroom, her chest now heaving to compensate for the painful chilling moment.
She blinked at the reflection of the wide glass panes pathetically, the moon casted its own light on her through the window. She felt completely out of place because there was no one there except the shadows of the night of the moon.
She was so fucking pretty.
He hadn’t been able to appreciate finer, beautiful things after his death.
When he put a bullet in his own brain, ending his own cursed life. He hadn’t anticipated to return to the house that held nothing but stagnant moments with good times that were very few and far between.
He had thought about implanting explosives in the house and let it blow all up, to destroy a extensive piece of his past because he once believed that the past was the past and it wasn’t his to be concerned about anymore.
However, in that last moment before walking out of the godforsaken place, he had changed his mind and changed the orders for his men to remove it from the manor but he knew Lizzie and his son, Charlie would not come back to this place. He did not want them to, regardless.
Looking back prior to his death, he was relieved he did not destroy it.
For the fact the woman standing before his being was the reason he was able to experience her presence.
For the past several days, he didn’t lose sight of her and followed her for a while, still hidden by the shadows of light and time except the trinkets and reminders he would leave around for her to find.
He would be there, chasing her down the corridors at night without her knowing.
When he was alive, he used women as a way to escape his mundane life despite it was filled with danger and enemies and never a moment to rest except in death.
He had experienced displeasure when his remaining siblings, Arthur, Finn and Ada agreed to sell Arrow House a few years after he died because it was too much for them to live in the house that held nothing for them anymore.
He had been pleasantly surprised by the fact he was able to enjoy her presence back when she was a child. He had enjoyed the presence of children when he was alive, but life got in the way of him being able to be the person he had wish to become. As a ghost, he hadn’t been able to surround children for the fact there were not many tenets with children. He had observed her throughout time, noticing how she was mindless to her surroundings, untouched by the cruelty of the world that bestowed since the dawn of time. It had made him feel protective of the child who played with her toys under the portrait in the dining hall. It was easier to keep an eye on her from the things that could potentially hurt her.
He had never thought he would be angry with the thought of her and her family leaving the manor behind, forgotten as they moved onto the next chapter of their lives. No one in his life stayed for him, not in the way he wanted them to. He wanted them to stay for him, not for what he could provide. He felt the same way when the family left the manor despite him being a ghost.
Now time had passed and she got older while he stayed the same, frozen by the law of nature.
And she, she had come back to the manor when she had no reason to. He had felt alive and things had changed the moment he laid his eyes on her again when he saw her presence climbing out of a vehicle along with two men he had recognized in his previous life.
He traced his fingers across his trouser-cladded thigh. He had never thought he would be aching to slide his thick, heavy cock between her thighs that were exposed under her pajama shorts.
He had never thought of her as anything but someone to protect. Until she stepped into the Arrow House again.
However, nothing could destroy the pleasure of the fact she chose his old room as her oasis, her bedroom, a room for her to find peace in her own space.
He leaned forward, easing himself around her figure, brushing his knuckles against her shoulder to stroke her warm skin gently.
He could touch her now. A touch-starved man was a dangerous beast.
Whatever it was thirteen years ago prior to her leaving, it was the past. It was glaringly obvious that the past was a different life.
Far from this one.
A sudden predatory arm snaked around her waist causing a gasp from her lips. Out of pure instinct, her hands reached down and gripped tightly onto his forearm attempting to push it away. Snatching her back into his broad warm chest birthed a panic attack in her.
She was exactly where she dreaded being - right where he wanted her to be. She nearly forgot what it was like to be trapped within the dark embrace of any kind.
His muscles held her tightly like a second skin and yet brought an ounce of fear the woman had never felt before until she moved into the damn Arrow House.
Another gasp slipped from her mouth as he brought her head back with a slow but forceful movement of his hand, letting the crown of her head tip back against his shoulder. She trembled, keeping her eyes as straight as she could while her hands gripped onto him for life. The fear of the unknown made her head swirl as the thought of being completely hostage by him.
She tried her best to remind herself that she would not die because he was a goddamn shadow. However, she had seen too many poltergeist movies to know she could die.
She bit down on her lower lip to prevent any other sound from leaving her mouth until she felt it. His other hand crawled its way up to her stomach.
Feeling the weight of his fingers and palm drag slowly up her abdomen, he was unpredictable and that made this all the more worse. His nose now met the tip of her right ear, causing the girl to shiver as her eyes closed tightly. He nuzzled the smooth skin of her ear. All she could hear was his steady deep breathing, lightly rising with each movement of his chest, until a deep intentional breath filled her ears.
He was smelling her hair, releasing a deep exhale as if he could finally settle and she found herself frozen in place especially when she could see him now.
Exactly like the man in the portrait in the dining room.
Thomas.
She tried to move her head, to avoid his lips, but he already had his hands out, chasing her face to close the distance.
He embellished the feeling of her soft skin underneath the pads of his fingertips by gently grabbing the both sides of her pretty face.
A groan slipped out from his lips as it rumbled in his throat when he finally finally felt her lips with his own. Desperation that was brimming the moment he knew she could see him and touch him washed over him, and his hands immediately captured her face as he had found out he could touch her.
“Fuck,” he rasped. “Y/N, love.”
It was as if her fault for making him lose his breath, her fault for keeping them apart like this despite not knowing it was him was what drove her away, his lungs collapsed. He nibbled and bit her lower lip in punishment. Between sudden breaths, he worshipped her with his mouth and hands to the point of terror.
“Thomas,” she let out a protest, her fingers clenching his shoulders to push him away. Only there was no use.
Ignoring her, a growl pulling his lip ever so slightly as he captured her lips again in a searing kiss. Teeth catching onto her upper lip before opening his mouth to devour her bottom lip as well.
He spun her away from him before pushing her against the mattress while she had struggled against him.
Without letting her move, he had began to remove her clothes, and his eventually joined the pile. He didn’t care for anything but to be inside of her.
He pushed her flailing legs apart before nestling between them.
His cock was trailing up and down the folds of her cunt. The head got caught on her opening for just a moment and sent a shock of electrical pleasure throughout his entire body.
He rumbled lowly in his chest as the thick tip of his shaft pushed through the opening, making her inner muscles give out as he started pushing inside with the tilt of his hips. He grunted lowly into her neck as he slid into her the first time.
He moved slowly as he buried himself inside her pussy. The hot sensation enveloped his dick as he made her feel every inch of it, he was wanting to savor the moment since it had been years since he last had a warm cunt and it had never felt like this coming from the woman beneath him, but it all became too much to the point where he shoved in the last few inches instead.
He groaned when her cunt pulsed and clenched down on his shaft in response as she whined into the mattress. She may have not wanted it, but her body wanted more.
He was able to prop his arms beside her head as his thick cock was nestled deeply into her warm cunt before extricating his cock from her tight cunt and slammed back inside, forcing a sharp moan from her throat.
Thomas began thrusting into her with abandon, feral and animalistic. Her hands scrambled to hold onto something which ended up grasping onto his forearms instead. A part of him felt an undeniable need to claim her, to fuck her so hard and rough he would imprint upon her being. He needed to make sure she would never leave him.
He did not know what he was anymore. In this moment, he was nothing but a pure primitive being, redacting every piece of history from this moment to the dawn of time.
Trying to claim his woman.
“God, look at you,” his voice came from above her, low and rough.
His knees were spread, resting on the outsides of both her legs, his feet hooked over her calves to accommodate the position which had spread her legs apart, forcing her to take him as the position gave him the leverage to pound down into her hard, slamming his hips into her ass with rough thrusts that borderline brutal. He would bet she could feel his heavy balls smacking down against her slicked cunt, and hear the loud, crude slapping sound it made. It only made him harder even more somehow as pleasure rolled down his spine due to the lewdness of the position.
He loved how spread open she looked, how it felt to shove his cock into her warm cunt as he fucked her like an animal.
“Mine.” He rumbled, smirking when she didn’t say anything.
She seemed so small beneath him like this. He looked down at where his dick was swallowed by her pussy, he ended up grabbing her ass, his large hands gripped her flesh, and spread her open, groaning as he saw the way her folds were spread open by his cock and her cunt was wrapped tightly around him.
One of his hands trailed up her spine, smirking when a shiver rolled down her back and settling in gripping the back of her neck as he move himself to hover over her writhing body.
With one hand finding the front of her throat, he pulled her closer against his chest as much as he could, pace not faltering once. He could feel her walls fluttered around his cock due to the possessive grasp he had on her throat. She was trembling, he nearly smiled with a feral expression as he had a hard time focusing on anything but her, the way he fucked her, pushing her closer to the edge.
“Such a tight cunt, so perfect for me.” He rasped, his lips grazing her cheek.
Somewhere in the haze of pleasure that rolled through him, Thomas groaned as the grip on the base of her neck tightened; threatening to leave bruises as he thought about spilling his cum into her pussy. He shoved his cock so deeply inside of her that she collapsed with a startled cry where no one could tell the beginning and the end.
His weight was pinning her to the blankets as her cunt was flooded with his cum. She began to squirm beneath him once she realized there were flames licking the bedroom and smoke began to rise, but he kept her pinned where she was, sliding his cock back and forth in her warmth.
“Tommy,” she protested, attempting to crawl away from him, only he held her down firmly.
He swallowed thickly as he laid his head against the curve of her back, “there’s not a damn thing I wouldn’t do when it comes to you, do you understand me?” Despite being a ghost, the warmth of her skin mingled with his as he felt the heat of the flames licking the curtains and the wallpapers as the fire began to spread around them, eventually consuming them.
Then she screamed as fire licked her skin, burning the flesh and he held her down in his arms, bounding her to him forever in death.
#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby#peaky blinders#thomas shelby x you#thomas shelby x y/n#tommy shelby#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy
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