#this part killlllled me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thechroniclesofahotgirl · 2 years ago

Text

New Moon New Me

New Moon New ME.

Welcome back to the third installment of The Chronicles of a Hot Girl.

I started the week as I always did. I woke up. I had some existential dread. I went to bed.

After firing pretty much everyone involved with my show I took a little time off to center and refocus.

I took only Monday and Tuesday to blow off a little steam and catch up on sleep. By Wednesday we were back at it again (no white vans though.)

With an appointment with my Psychiatrist on the books (which did me no good at all as Adderall is on backorder basically everywhere) I made my way to the bank to deposit some cash.

While I was there I figured now is as good a time as any to set up the bank account for my LLC. I even changed my car insurance to a way cheaper brand so I could save a little money.

With my finances in order I headed back home to prepare for my Telehealth appointment.

Now this wouldn’t be a hot girl chronicle if there were not some hot girl shenanigans. SO OFC the new psychiatrist was someone on Bumble maybe I would have passed on. However, here at the telehealth appointment, I felt myself get nervous as I talked about my self pleasuring habits. (yes even hot girls masturbate)

Normally this part of the conversation didn’t bother me, but I couldn’t help but wonder if my comments got him a little curious too.

He didn’t matter much though because doctors can’t sleep with their patients. Wa wha.

In my state of motivation, I did get online to begin my search for a new band.

An overall uneventful start to the week.

With Thursday bringing us into a new moon, something in the air must have shifted.

On Thursday at a book store by the university with my boss, I got a phone call that ushered in a new phase for a former employer of mine.

A potential class action for sexual harassment.

I guess I had all the right experiences for the EEOC to take action not only on behalf of the girl who made the original complaint but for a whole class of people who worked for the same people.

More on that later.

Later that night I joined up with the same friend as the week before to hit the country bar on the outskirts of town for a little line dancing.

We really did have a great time. The dancing and the music were great, but there wasn’t much here in the way of Hot Girls getting their Hot Girl on.

It was hard to believe that environments like that were where I used to find mates of sorts.

Friday the 19th was the new moon in Taurus. A time to let the universe know that I was ready to take on all it had to offer me.

You want to know what this mother fucker sent me?

Well, I had gathered a couple friends of mine to come to help me get content for a 7th Ave bar. The theme was Pirates. Here in this Shmity TM* (a city that behaves like a small town) we fucking love pirates.

It was at the Pirate Bar on 7th Ave that I had the strangest experience.

In a skin-tight black halter dress and black babydoll strap peep toes, I made a full strut to the stage to sing a little diddly called “Hell on Heels” which I not only thought was fitting, but also that I killlllled.

From the stage, I scanned the crowd for the most eligible bachelors and bachelorettes.

Mostly unimpressed, I sang my song, gave my thanks, and made my way back to the table. We had chosen a high-top table in the back that we shared with a few other unrelated groups of people.

Sitting at the end of the table, I became all too aware of a very drunk man staring at me.

He was about 6 feet away at the table in front of ours. He stood at no more than five foot five maybe. A round man in Jesus sandals and a floral button-up. The lights weren’t really on behind his glossy bloodshot eyes.

How did I know what his eyes look like you ask?

Well, that is because that strange and drunk little man stepped out of his sandals and stumbled over to my table. He took a seat as if my acknowledgment of his staring was an invitation.

In an attempt to alert his friend group to their missing passenger, I unwittingly invited a second man to our table.

The second man also grabbed a chair and took a seat between me and 7th Ave Jesus.

“What made you want to call me over?” He asked

His breath probably could have started a small fire in the right conditions.

He was tall and had to be at least six foot five inches, he had a ridiculous mustache, floral shirt, sneakers, and blue eyes.

His eyes though less bloodshot and glossy, were still inebriated.

“Well, I called you over to remove your friend. His shoes by the way are over at your table.” I retorted as I pointed out not only his barefoot friend but also where he had stepped out of his well-worn sandals.

The taller bachelor reached over to grab the nasty sandals and handed them to his significantly more intoxicated friend.

I ignored the little one as he continued his drunken staring.

I really couldn’t blame him. Hot Girl is as Hot Girl does.

The taller man whose name was something perfectly normal, continued on with his conversation overlooking my comment which I thought would be the end of our exchange.

“I see, like your friend, you have taken my call for aid as an invitation.”

Blah blah blah

We talk a bit about what books we are reading and make a few recommendations. I warm up to him and realize he is objectively attractive. His floral Hawaiian shirt had the top few buttons undone and I could see a bit of his chest.

He asked where we were headed next.

After some light coordination, my friend and I took him and his friend on an adventure leaving the rest of the bachelor party they were with behind.

They were here from Canada for a bachelor party, so I wanted to give them a night they could take with them forever.

We started at the new wine and cheese bar where we were almost denied entry due to the friend in his Crocs.

(Why men go out without considering dressing well is beyond me)

Luckily the owner of the bar was a friend who owned another establishment a few door fronts down who happened to be walking in at the same time. He gave us the go-ahead against the dress code of the new establishment.

It was cool but loud.

The Canadian and I chatted. He told me about how he worked in medical sales back in Toronto and played hockey in his free time. He asked me questions about what made me who I was. It was all very polite.

Over a couple glasses of champagne and some very loud music we got to know each other. He had his arm around my waist and my free hand rested on his muscular shoulder.

Attempting to find an environment more conducive to talking, I lead the foursome down to the bar I worked at.

Here is where it gets interesting.

Some many shots and a few drinks later we the Canadian and I had started making out. It was 1 am at this point and I was feeling great.

Maybe a little too good because somehow, mid make out sesh, we completely lost our footing and fell over taking a few chairs down with us as we went.

A quick jump up from the ground though was not enough to cover up what we had done. Or the little bit of blood coming from a small gash on the bridge of his nose.

My favorite part was in the security camera footage, which I had coxed out of my manager the following morning, which was my coworker shaking his head at the whole scene.

Deciding that I had enough embarrassment for one establishment, we made our way on to the next place.

A nightclub, one of the oldest on the 7th, also had a dress code. (Those fucking Crocs again)

I looked one of the security guards dead in the face and said “Help a girl get laid.”

Maybe it was my heartfelt plea or maybe it was because I used to work there, but either way, they let us in. With my credit card whose balance I’m still scared to look at as I type this, I bought another round of shots as we waited for the elevator.

My efforts were for not though as we eventually trekked the 5 flights of stairs up to the rooftop. The only level out of 5 that I was willing to tolerate.

Already plenty lit we had even more shots and made out in the front corner looking at the strip of bars and clubs.

I was thankful for the fresh air and the breeze. Things got a little steamy on that rooftop.

The Canadian was stroking my side from my breast to my hip which was only made sexier by my lack of bra.

His big hands made my whole body feel petite and tingly as he grabbed me to pull me in closer while we locked lips and teased each other’s tongues.

Ready for more alcohol though I lead us back to the bar where I briefly checked my phone.

There were 3 unread messages from B. 1:11 am.

I slipped my phone back into my small pink vintage coach purse. (Vintage because I had it since 6th grade.) I opted for the man who spent the better part of the night buying me flowers from the strange man who pedals them and asked me everything there was to know about how my mind worked.

He was trying to get laid, but I sensed a level of severity in his interest that eased my guard just enough to tell him little things about myself that I doubt he remembers now. Mostly about therapy and why we were in it.

The bars and nightclubs around the strip had started to close up so we made our way out the street with no plan of where to go next.

Popping into one last establishment for an after-hours shot before reconnecting with our respective friends.

I found mine a few paces ahead of us. When I met up with her she had given me the impression she was ready for the night to be over.

So together we made a break for my boss’ condo a few blocks over leaving the boys in the dust.

I woke up Saturday morning on my boss’ couch with the kind of hangover that you know hasn’t fully set in yet.

Upon my return to my dwelling, I immediately showered, got back in bed, and reviewed the footage from the night before.

I finally opened B’s messages and replied at first with a simple “sry I was out, just got home.”

I wish I would have left it there, but as I do, I did not.

I went on to address something passive-aggressive he had said about a playlist I had made for him a while back.

He was upset I changed the name of the playlist and accused me of trying to guilt trip him.

I wasn’t. I just changed it from “playlist 50” made by me to the name of the first song I showed him that he got excited for.

Music was one of those things B and I shared that felt special to me. After consideration, it probably wasn’t ever special to him, but I didn’t let that affect me.

I didn’t have time to dwell on his emotional triggers though as I was now down to two hours until I had to leave my house and brave an entire brunch shift fighting the urge to regurgitate every shot and sip of champagne I had the night before.

I did exactly that too. I made it through the whole shift curating a telling of the events of the night before to each table or group that sat at the bar.

The Canadian really had his heart set on seeing me for a second night and even called me a couple times throughout the night. I, however, was already fast asleep in bed still wearing my falsies from the brunch shift I had just worked.

The Canadian tried Sunday morning, and then Sunday night, even into the wee hours of Monday morning to see me one more time.

I think you all know me just enough by now to know that I am a full send no-more than once a week kinda gal. If I even have the energy for that much.

Another victim of the Hot Girl comes and goes as a does a week.

Maybe soon I’ll take it another step forward with someone. Maybe I’ll even go on a proper date. Honestly, though, I am not looking for it. I’d rather have a date with the videographer to set up my show’s next steps.

Until the next cosmic shift, this has been an update in The Chronicles of a Hot Girl.

#thechroniclesofahotgirl #trauma #childhood trauma tw #dating #dating in 2023 #dating in your 20s #mercury retrograde #spiritual #spiritual growth #story time #tumblr stories #hot girl shit #sa recovery #new moon

3 notes · View notes

flowersforbucky · 7 months ago

Text

oooohhhh this got me in my feels and i would killllll for there to be a part 2 of him coming back to her 😩 this was so SO good!!!!

dancing on the edge of danger

pairing: winter soldier!bucky barnes x reader

summary: you witness a man with a metal arm murder someone in the middle of the night, and when you lock eyes with him, your faint soulmate mark deepens and completes itself. you realize, with no small amount of horror, that you've found your soulmate.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, soulmates, very vague violence/murder, protective/possessive bucky barnes

word count: 2.4k

a/n: day 10 of my 30 day writing trope challenge was soulmate au and i'll be honest, i've never written or read a soulmate au fanfic so i had to do some research 🤓 (the closest i'd gotten was watching the 2009 movie TiMER). anyway, i'm pretty happy with how it turned out, hope y'all enjoy!

The man moved with brutal efficiency, his large body managing a stunning grace even as he committed the most violent of acts. You watched in horror from the balcony of your room as he murdered an older couple in the courtyard of the hotel you were staying at. If you hadn’t been awake because you’d had trouble sleeping, and if the couple hadn’t caught your eye with their private laughter, you’d have completely missed the silent crime. If you’d been looking up at the stars above, you never would’ve witnessed the horror that occurred below.

But you did witness the man murdering the couple, and you were still watching him when he looked up, searching to determine if anyone had seen him commit his brutal act of violence. His eyes landed on yours and you felt a shock, like an electric current, pass through your body. It was so powerful, your knees wobbled, threatening to give out.

A tingling in your wrist drew your attention to your soulmate mark. The half-heart shaped mark had always been fainter than anyone you’d ever known. Your mother had taken you to half a dozen experts when it first appeared, wanting to know what was wrong with it, but the best guess they could offer was that it seemed to indicate you were unlikely to meet your soulmate.

So when the other half of the heart appeared after locking eyes with the murderous man, and the mark deepened in color, you were nothing short of astonished. It had happened, you’d finally found your soulmate!

Happiness flooded through you, but when you looked back down to the courtyard, the man—your soulmate—was gone. A moment later, he climbed over the railing of your hotel room’s balcony, his heavy combat boots hitting the concrete with a soft thud. You let out a tiny, surprised squeak.

For a moment, you just stared at each other.

Long, slightly greasy brown hair fell on either side of the man’s face, and his blue eyes were bright in the soft light filtering from your room. You suspected he was handsome, though he wore a black mask covering his face from his nose down to his chin. His left arm was a silver prosthetic with a red star, the shiny metal standing out against the rest of his all-black getup. In your first cursory look at the man, you spotted at least three visible weapons, and realized there were no doubt more you couldn’t see. The elation over finding your soulmate slowly bled into horror as you realized exactly what kind of man you were destined for.

Without even deciding to do so, you took a step back from him, wondering if you could make it inside your room before he caught you. His blue eyes darted down to your feet and when he looked back up, his expression was haunted.

With careful slowness, the man reached up and removed the mask covering half his face.

Your first thought was that you were right, he was handsome. Your eyes focused on his mouth, his soft pink lips set amidst the scruff that covered his jaw. He looked like he was trying to speak, his mouth working but no words coming out at first. Finally, he managed one.

“Mine.”

It was a statement and a question, and that note of uncertainty halted your retreat. The man’s blue eyes swirled with too many emotions for you to pick out any in particular, and it gave you the sense that he felt overwhelmed. Your heart gave a sympathetic thump and your instincts pushed you to help him.

Holding up your hand, with your wrist turned toward the man, you showed him your completed mark. “Soulmates,” you said, then gestured between the two of you with your other hand. “We are soulmates.”

The man pulled back the sleeve of his jacket over his right wrist and, even from across the balcony, you could see a mark that was identical to yours. “Soulmates,” he murmured, like he’d never heard or said the word before and was testing out how it felt on his tongue. He looked back up at you, his piercing blue eyes pinning you to the spot. “My… soulmate.”

You nodded, smiling softly at him. “Yes, I’m your soulmate,” you confirmed.

In just a few steps forward, the man crossed the balcony and gathered you into his arms. With a little surprised gasp, you realized you never would’ve made it into your room without him catching you, he was too fast, inhumanly so. But despite the brutality you’d seen the man display in the short time you’d known him, his hands were impossibly gentle on your body. They wandered across your back and shoulders, down to your butt and thighs, like he was trying to learn the shape of you by touch alone.

Smoothly, he drew you closer, until you were pressed against his large body. You felt a bulge in his pants where it was pressed against your stomach, and your body reacted instantly, heat flooding to your core and your muscles melting against him. Your arms wrapped around the man’s shoulders and you pressed yourself tighter to him, almost clinging to him as a whine built up in your throat.

The man seemed to instinctively know you were growing needy and he peeled off your thin pajamas, baring you to the cool night air. With his hands on your hips he moved you back so he could take in your naked body, the blue of his eyes deepening to match the midnight sky as he gazed at your breasts, the curve of your waist, the slope of your shoulders and the juncture of your thighs. “Mine,” he rasped, breaking the silent moment with his husky voice.

“Yours,” you agreed, pushing against his hold until he allowed you to step back into the circle of his arms. You nuzzled into the man’s scruffy cheek, dragging your lips along the rough stubble until they met his. Your first kiss with your soulmate was messy and clumsy, the man fumbling at first until he found a rhythm that had you moaning softly into his mouth.

He growled in response, the sound low and dirty, sending pulses of need directly to your slit. You were starting to grow impatient, so you reached down and gripped his cock through his pants, squeezing him and drawing another low growl from deep in his chest.

The man batted your hand away and quickly freed himself from his pants, taking his cock in his warm hand and pumping slowly. When you glanced down, you inhaled sharply. The man was big everywhere. His cock was so large you weren’t sure how it would fit inside you, but that thought only made you wetter. It was too dim on the balcony to see much, but he was thick and long and you could see a bead of precum glistening from the tip.

Before you could decide whether to bend down and lick it up, the man grabbed you around the back of your thighs and lifted you up. With a surprised shriek, you clung to his shoulders and a moment later he settled you on the railing of the balcony. Glancing over your shoulder, you noted it was a three story drop to the courtyard below and your head whipped back around as you clung harder to the man’s leather-clad shoulders.

Then the man was sliding his thick cock between your parted thighs, coating himself in your arousal. You let loose a throaty moan, tossing your head back at the delicious feel of him. The way your body arched thrust your chest into his face, and the man wasted no time in covering one nipple with his mouth. He sucked and licked and nipped at your sensitive bud until it was hardened into a little peak, then moved to the other to give it the same treatment. By the time he was done, you were panting and whining for him.

The man stood up straight, a slight smirk on his mouth as his hands gripped your hips tightly. You stared up at him through heavy-lidded eyes, moaning when he thrust his cock through your folds, the sound turning desperate as he bullied your clit but failed to fill you up the way you needed. Reaching between your bodies, you notched his cockhead against your entrance, but he paused. It wasn’t until you looked up into his face and met his bright, burning stare that he started to push inside you.

The man took it slow, giving you time to adjust to the way he stretched your pussy so thoroughly as he buried inch after inch in your tight little hole. You panted and gasped, clinging to the man’s neck and shoulders as he filled you up.

His chest heaved with the effort to restrain his base instincts and shove all of himself inside you at once. But when he felt his cock hit the end of you, he let loose a stifled roar of satisfaction, growling out one word, “Mine.”

“Yours,” you confirmed on a gasp, wrapping your thighs around his waist and rocking your hips in an effort to get him to move. And move he did.

The man pulled out until he was almost entirely free and then shoved his cock back inside your pussy with the brutality he’d restrained on his first time plunging inside. A sharp cry fell from your lips before he covered your mouth with his own, drinking down every little scream and whimper he wrung from you with his body.

It was all you could do to hold on, your fingers twisted in his brown hair, your lips and tongue sliding against his, as he held you balanced precariously on the railing of your balcony and fucked you so hard, it felt like he was imprinting himself on your soul. You pulled him closer with your hands and your thighs, clinging to him like you planned on never letting him go. There was something inside you—your heart, your soul, you didn’t know—that called out to him, needing him, wanting to become one with this man whose name you still didn’t even know.

You’d heard the stories about soulmates finding each other, the beauty and romance of their first times. You’d thought it was meant to be gentle and soft and sweet. Though the man had handled you gently at first, he had quickly devolved into an animalistic brutality with the way he fucked you—but you wouldn’t have traded it for anything. It felt right, it felt like he recognized something within you and was more than happy and capable of giving you what you needed.

You wanted him to fuck you forever, to never be anywhere but inside you. But it couldn’t last forever. His powerful strokes and the position he held you in meant he ground against your clit with every thrust were pushing you toward the edge of your release fast. You tried to warn him, but the man wouldn’t release your lips long enough for you to get the words out, which is how you wound up screaming into his mouth. Your body shook and trembled through your orgasm, your pussy clenching down hard on the man’s cock.

With a surprised shout, the man followed you over the edge, your release triggering his own. He groaned low and dirty against your lips, his hips shoving his cock deep inside your pussy and letting himself go. Your cunt milked him dry, wringing every drop of cum from his thick length.

Smiling dazedly, you moaned softly at the feel of his warm cum filling you up. Your head tilted back, your face upturned toward the midnight sky filled with stars; you watched them twinkle through slitted eyes. You were happy and satisfied, your body loose and relaxed in the man’s arms, forgetting for a moment that you were dancing on the edge of danger. But the man held you tight, ensuring you were safe.

“Mine,” the man said, gathering you against his chest and hauling you off the railing. “My soulmate,” he murmured, staring deeply into your eyes before ducking his head for a kiss.

While he kissed you, you were barely aware of him moving. You didn’t realize he’d carried you into your room until he was settling you down on your hotel room bed, covering your body with his. His cock was still stuffed deep in your pussy and you rocked up into him. He growled softly into your mouth.

Lazily, the man fucked you again, taking his time with your body and wringing two more orgasms from you before he spilled another load deep in your cunt. You collapsed into the bed and cuddled into your soulmate, feeling safe and happy and satisfied as you fell asleep.

At some point in the early morning hours, you woke as you felt the man retreat from your bed. You reached for him with desperate, clinging fingers, which he took and kissed the tip of each one.

“Stay,” he murmured and you knew instantly that he was leaving.

Your heart dropped. “Don’t go,” you whispered, not too proud to put every ounce of desperation you felt in those two begging words. You’d plead with him not to leave you if you had to.

“Not safe—yet,” he said. That haunted look had returned to his blue eyes and you suddenly remembered the circumstances in which you’d first seen him. If he was capable of such violence, you could believe the world he navigated was just as dangerous, and you wanted no part in it. But that didn’t mean you were willing to give up your soulmate.

“Come back to me,” you murmured, smiling softly to let him know you weren’t angry even as tears pricked at your eyes and your heart cracked open. You clung to both his hands, tugging them toward your mouth so you could drop a kiss first on his metal palm and then against the heart-shaped mark on his right wrist.

The man gazed down at you with a soft sadness in his tortured blue eyes. He pressed a lingering kiss to your lips and uttered three words that were a fierce promise before ducking out of the room onto the balcony and disappearing into the early morning. “Always, my soulmate.”

⫸⫸30 Day Writing Trope Challenge Masterlist⫷⫷

#fic rec #bucky barnes fic rec

971 notes · View notes

trevisos · 6 months ago

Note

6 and 7!

thank youuu 💖

from these dav hype asks!

6. Do you have your Rook(s) planned out to any degree? If so, would you share some details or ideas you have?

oh boy so. yes and no? i have some very vague concepts i plan to refine as i replay the games/reread the books/finally read tevinter nights in the next few months. i know i’m going to play an elf mage and they’re probably going to be some sort of genderweird. i was initially thinking a sort of princely looking tomboy girl but the allure of nice looking long hair may tempt me into making them, like, an effeminate transmasc twink? (says the effeminate transmasc twink. lol) i’m torn between crows, mourn watch, and wardens. i’m going to work so hard to not actually pick wardens bc i want to explore something new but also. well. i really love the grey wardens. so it Is a possibility. top romance contenders right now are neve, lucanis, and emmrich but i think i’m just going to let whatever happens happen and not try to plan it too much.

their nickname is tentatively magpie, but their full name is going to depend on where i decide they’re from, which faction i pick, and just plain vibes lol. i think they’re going to be blonde bc i already have a brunette, a redhead, and a black haired protag in this world state and i think it would be funny to round it out with a blonde lol. pronouns also tbd

7. What character from the previous games or other media are you most hoping will make an appearance in DAV?

the most delusional part of me says anders but i know that is simply not going to happen. i would be happy if he got a mention honestly lmao. my next choice is also kind of a longshot bc i am not sure she’s even still alive but i would killllll to see fiona again! in my heart she will be redesigned and the white fiona of dai infamy can fade into the past like an awful nightmare…. but if i would take anything honestly. i love fiona so much. my more realistic choices would be like, fenris? or dorian? isabela maybe? or zevran?????

#da blogging #漫言 #answered #i love u fiona…. i miss u fiona….

1 note · View note

lennasaurus · 6 months ago

Text

Another entry in the fixin' shit diary: Nintendo Pro Controller

I've been playing a lot of botw & totk and finally ran into the dreaded pro controller drift issues. I am a murder-from-a-distance type, so the drift was killllll meeee.

I followed a combo of these three posts to get the job done:

I Fixed My Pro Controller Drift issue (Reddit Post)

How to Eliminate Joystick Drift from a Nintendo Switch Pro Controller (IFIXIT)

How You Can Fix a Drifting Pro Controller Stick (Youtube)

D-Pad Issue Easy Fix (Youtube)

Overall it is a pretty simple job to get done. I used contact cleaner to clean out the potentiometers, regreased the joy stick with dielectric grease, and did the little d-pad tape hack. Took less than 20 mins and felt great to both me & my partner over the weekend playing. Some tips if you want to do this:

You will need a precision/watch/jeweller phillips #00 Screwdriver - it needs to be long a skinny. We had one in our glasses repair kit from the dollar store.

Don't get too bogged down with name brands for contact/electronic cleaners & dielectric grease. Trying to hunt down what Americans are recommending will drive you wild. I had good luck in the automotive center of Canadian Tire. Also, buy the smallest bottles you can, they will last you years if you are just fixing electronics.

Disconnect the ribbon, it's not scary, it's just a ZIF connector and you're much more likely to damage it trying to keep it connected while you are cleaning stuff. iFixit has a great ribbon/cable id article.

Some of the screws were very very tight on mine, so I had to focus on downward pressure more than twisting to get them out without stripping them. Chillness is your friend here and having the controller firmly held is key.

Overall this controller is very DIY repair-friendly, all parts can only go in one way (I dumped out all buttons onto the floor and they are keyed to only go into their correct spot 👼), all the screws are the same for each assembly step, and there are no hard to get open tabs or clasps

#me #repair #fix your shit #nintendo #botw #totk

0 notes

ackermans-freedom-inc · 4 years ago

Note

is my internet shit, or do you not love me any more mother??? :< -dbb

MY DEAR. I HATE TO BLAME IT ON YOUR INTERNET. BUT IT IS BE IT BC MY LOVE FOR U IS BURNING BRIGHTER THAN IT EVER WAS

#<3 ALL MY LOVE #dbb anon #THE MOTHER PART KILLLLLLED ME #do you mean you don’t see my replies??? AhHHh #tumblr has sometimes eaten my asks so if you sent in an ask and I never responded #it might have gotten eaten #BUT IF ITS A FIC REQUEST IM WORKIN ON EM #XD #anon #asks

6 notes · View notes

brummiereader · 19 days ago

Text

@mischievouslittlecreature so many things happened in this chapter that I need to rant about 😤😭!

These latest parts are killlllling me, Lily! It is so hard to read 😭. You're literally stomping on my heart 😩😂.

She stood with her back resting against the shaded side of the church, the cigarette in her hand poised to soon join the others she’d already dropped to the ground after they became too small to properly grip. As much as I hate seeing Lucy like this, the image of her you created in this first scene was👌🏼. I love how she's in the shadows, done with this bullshit and just wanting it to be over so she can go back home to her pets.

I’ve been looking for you,” Tommy said softly, once he’d come to a stop beside her. 😒, I'm sorry, I can't help it, I'm pissed off at him 😂. I think that feeling has been influenced by a later part in this chapter that almost had me throwing my fucking phone across the the room (you're gonna see my full on rant 😡)!

Tommy nodded, expression that of a man about to make his final walk to the gallows. I'm glad he feels that way, because this is not a happy occasion for Lucy and him. The only one that seems to be blissfully ignorant and joyous is Lizzie 😬.

I am so relieved we didn't have to read the exchanging of vows. I seriously think my heart wouldn't have been able to take it. It was already painful enough to have to read about Lucy sitting in the back of pews listening to him make the same promises to Lizzie that he had to her. Fuck...😭.

Polly nearly flew out of her seat with the force in which she stood, clapping her hands together and beaming. I love Polly, but not this version of her. In fact, I can't stand this version of Polly 😤. I'll tell you why she was like that with you and Grace, Lucy. Because you're not subservient. You're not under her thumb like Lizzie is, and she can't stand the fact that Tommy goes to you for advice and not her anymore!

Gosh, the little scene between them when his eyes are darting around like a lost child for her 😭. I was so ready for him to make a scene, kinda wish he would have 🤭. I hate how she got pushed to the back, but I guess it was expected with Lizzie making all the plans for the day.

Ever since they’d gotten together, she and Tommy had a rule regarding bringing others into their bed: they would not sleep with someone else unless they were both present. It was a rule they’d both followed steadfastly.- It was a rule that was about to be broken. And even though she’d agreed to it, it still hurt. No, no, NO!! They did not seriously agree to this??? Who came up with this idea, please tell me it was Lizzie and not Tommy's or Lucy's suggestion??😩. I really hoped this would have been off the table considering everything that happened and the business like marriage deal they came up with. If I didn't flip at this part, this line made me lose my shit...He only planned to spend limited nights with Lizzie. He can't be fucking serious??? It's not a one off thing?? He's gonna continue to sleep with her?? Why.....I just....I'm a little speechless😳. I don't give a shit about Lizzie's needs or wants, this just seems completely unacceptable considering the rules they've already layed down when it comes to this "marriage". I find this so disrespectful to Lucy on Tommys part, why the fuck did he agree to this?? He's doing a really shit job and making Lucy feel confident. Well done for feeding the woman you loves insecurities by continuing to sleep with Lizzie just to appease her, Tommy 😒.

Talking of Bridezilla...WHAT THR FUCK!!!!! “I wanted to ask you, since we arranged for Ruby’s things to be moved into Arrow House while we’re away, if you would be willing to move rooms,” - “I already told her,” Lizzie cut her off. “And I already picked out another room for you. I told them to move your things today while we were out.” Lucy please...stand up for yourself, girl 😩. It's killing me how she's letting her walk all over her like this! She's muscled her way in and is already calling the shots. And the thing that angers me the most Is, Lizzie is acting like they're a loving couple but it's all a fucking charade! How can she possibly have the balls to act like this when in reality, SHE'S the affair, SHE'S the other woman.

“Have a fun honeymoon,” she finally managed to choke out. When she tried to pull away, his hands landed on her upper arms, holding her firmly in place. Yes and fuck off Tommy. Sorry 🤭, I've taken on the bitter/petty role of Lucy's brain. Can you tell 🤪🤣?

Lucy,” he said, a layer of franticness in his voice, “When I’m with her…I’m not with her.” although his statement was meaningful, i dont think he anticipates how insistent Lizzie will become now. I really do think Lucy's becoming aware of it, and already regretting the whole thing. But Tommy's just...🤦🏼‍♀️. This whole thing has just added fuel to the flame when it comes to Lizzie delusions 😬.

Amazing chapter, hun! I need something strong to drink after this though 😂. I don't think if ever gotten so angry when reading a fic 🤭. I just love them together so much, that I'm having these visceral reactions to the injustice of the situation they're in. It just goes to show you how superbly you're able to stir my emotions with your writing ❤️!

Part 22: This Misery We've Made

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: It's Tommy and Lizzie's wedding day.

Word Count: 4,667

Notes: I cried while writing most of this chapter. Friendly reminder that Lucy is suffering from severe depression and C-PTSD after what happened to her in the previous part, and therefore cannot be considered an entirely reliable narrator. Her self esteem is nonexistent and her thoughts are only a reflection of what her fucked up brain is causing her to think, not actually what Tommy feels. Warnings for depictions of insecurity, jealousy, depression, and references to self harm.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 3: The Bells

The bells were ringing overhead. Echoing in a thunderous clang for all to hear. The sound of them was intended to announce a joyous occasion. Something to be met with celebration.

Lucy was not in a particularly celebratory mood.

She stood with her back resting against the shaded side of the church, the cigarette in her hand poised to soon join the others she’d already dropped to the ground after they became too small to properly grip. Her eyes followed the well dressed guests walking up from their cars towards the big double doors that lead into the chapel. None of them paid her even a parting glance, the angle and shade of the church shielding her from view.

She was hiding. From Tommy. From Lizzie. From everyone. She didn’t want to ruin their happy day with her melancholy. Casting a glance at her watch, she drew in a trembling breath at the realization that she would have to go inside soon.

Dread built within her, creating a pressure that felt moments away from bursting. It had been there since Tommy had proposed to Lizzie, growing steadily by the day like a tumor.

She let her most recent cigarette drop into the grass, grinding it down under her heel to make sure it didn’t spark. Wouldn’t that be something? She could see the headlines now: Lover of MP About to be Married Sets Church on Fire.

The crunch of grass under a set of shoes alerted her to footsteps approaching. She didn’t need to look up to know who it was. She’d know him by gait alone.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Tommy said softly, once he’d come to a stop beside her.

“Sorry,” Lucy mumbled, looking down at her nails, freshly painted their usual shade of bright red for the occasion. Picking at an imaginary speck of lint on her oxford blue dress, she avoided having to look up at him.

Tommy’s hands were sheathed in the pockets of his carefully tailored wedding suit, eyes boring into her. “Are you alright?”

She forced herself to plaster on some semblance of happiness–and if not that, then at least serenity–onto her face before raising it to finally look at him. “Of course.”

Tommy just frowned, moving so that he was standing in front of her, taking care to keep them both still hidden within the shadows of the church. His hands came to rest on her upper arms, smoothing up and down before slipping around her back, pulling himself in closer to her until their foreheads were touching. Lucy closed her eyes, swallowing around the immovable lump in her throat and resting her palms on his waist.

“We can still call it off,” he whispered, warm breath fanning out across her cheeks.

Lucy shook her head, trying to remind herself of the things he’d told her last night. “It’s okay.”

His thumb was rubbing circles into the lower part of her back, attempting to soothe her.

“I will love you forever,” he promised, and she felt her lower lip start to quiver, eyes filling with tears that she furiously blinked away. She nodded jerkily, angling her face up to kiss him.

“I will love you forever too,” she murmured. For a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had fallen away, and it was just them, standing in their own little bubble where nothing and no one could touch them. Not even the sound of the bells ringing overheard.

She made a move to pull away, but his grip on her tightened, holding her in place against him firmly so that he could kiss her again. The last kiss they would share that would not be tainted by his bonds and marriage to another woman.

“It’s time,” Lucy said after they parted. Why did it feel as though she were sending him off to his death? Like she would never see him again; never hold or kiss or even touch him. Like she was about to lose him forever.

Tommy nodded, expression that of a man about to make his final walk to the gallows. He kissed her forehead firmly, and, with blatant reluctance, loosened his grip on her.

It took nearly all her willpower for Lucy to force herself to take that first step away from him. Then another and another, grass rustling under the small heels she was wearing. Tears brimmed at her lash line, but by some miracle she swallowed them down. Her arms wrapped around herself, trying through the makeshift embrace to soothe herself. She did not look back. If she did, she knew she would run to him, throw her arms around his neck, and never let him go.

It would be fine, she just had to keep reminding herself of that. He had promised.

So why did it feel like they’d just broken up?

Keeping her head down, she slipped into the church, quietly finding a spot in the pews close to the doors next to Ada.

She could barely watch the ceremony. In her lap, her hands gripped each other so tightly that the nails dug into and broke the skin. Tommy entered and went to stand at the end of the altar, hands clasped at his front and expression unreadable. Jeremiah was standing behind him, dressed in his robes and prepared to officiate, while Arthur stood to Tommy’s left, once again serving as best man for his younger brother. To the right, one of Lizzie’s sisters had taken the place for the maid of honor. Lucy could sense Tommy’s gaze darting to her every once in a while, but couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Instead her eyes remained downcast, entire body stock still.

Lizzie looked utterly radiant in her white wedding gown, her eyes dancing with uninhibited joy, the biggest smile Lucy had ever seen splitting her face. The dread inside Lucy tripled, twisting sickly inside of her.

Lizzie came to a stop beside Tommy at the altar, fixing him with a look of such deep love that Lucy had to quickly look away.

What have we done?

Ada gave her shoulder a squeeze, and while she did not have the energy to properly acknowledge the gesture, she was thankful for it nonetheless.

It was a quick ceremony, thankfully. Only the necessities. At the sound of Tommy’s deep voice reciting his vows to Lizzie, Lucy’s eyes squeezed shut.

He had made promises to her, that was true. But he was now in the process of making ones to Lizzie as well. And he would not be able to keep some of those promises to one woman without breaking the ones he’d made to the other. He was going to have to choose.

Lucy twisted one of her rings around her finger. It was a position she had never wanted to put him in.

The saying of the vows and the exchanging of the rings ended, and Jeremiah’s voice boomed throughout the church as he announced the new union of Tommy and Lizzie as husband and wife. Cheers erupted from both sides of the rows of spectators. Polly nearly flew out of her seat with the force in which she stood, clapping her hands together and beaming.

So different from when Tommy had married Grace, Lucy couldn’t help but think. She wondered, not for the first time, what exactly it was Lizzie had that she and Grace didn’t, which had so earned her Polly’s undying adoration, love, and approval.

That’s it. It’s done, Lucy thought to herself, somehow managing to remember to bring her hands together in quiet, numb little claps against each other.

It felt like something had just died. Like her whole life up until that point had been one long sentence, and a period had just been placed at the end of it. Something was changed. Ended. Gone. Maybe forever.

What it was, she wasn't entirely sure. Did she really think that all it took was a few vows and a ring to murder Tommy’s love for her? No, not really. But it still felt as though something had shifted in the air. A hollowness had widened inside her, like something had been ripped away. Her face screwed up slightly as she tried to figure out what it was.

The rest of the family started to gather up their things to follow the bride and groom outside and head down the street to the hotel where the reception was being held. She was watching the family shuffle towards the door, chattering, laughing, and smiling amongst each other, not one of them sparing her a parting glance, when it dawned on her entirely what she’d just lost.

Her and Tommy’s life together was gone. This was how all public encounters would be from now on. Tommy and Lizzie, connected with their arms linked or hands entwined, able to touch and talk and laugh with each other as much as they pleased. And the family would orbit around them. They all loved Lizzie. Accepted her. Approved of her as a partner in Tommy’s life. Lucy might as well be left locked outside, able to do little more than peer in through a window while the family gathered together. It would have the same effect. She was not naive enough to believe that she had previously ever been invited into anything they did together for reasons other than her being at Tommy’s side. A space that Lizzie now filled.

The only moments she and Tommy could have together anymore would be in private rooms and dark, shadowy corners. No more touching when others could see them. No more mumbled jokes into ears, or sitting next to each other. No more kisses when there was a risk that someone else might see them. No more dates. Hell, probably never even another vacation spent together.

That was all over. All she would get of him anymore were the crumbs that Lizzie left behind. Rare slivers of moments when he had the time.

She remained in her seat in the church, hands hanging limply over the wooden banister, eyes staring into space while the final few guests filtered out the doors, leaving her alone.

The bells had taken up their ringing once more. Lucy wondered if they rang them for funerals as well as weddings. Fitting, either way, considering that both had just taken place.

Still sitting there, she finally allowed her tears to overspill and run down her cheeks. Leaning forward with her head on her arms, she sobbed alone, the sounds of her mournful cries drowned out by the cacophony of the wedding bells.

∗ ∗ ∗

They all love her so much.

Lucy couldn’t entirely keep the bitterness out of the thought as she watched the Shelbys encircle Lizzie, practically oozing adoration and excitement at being able to finally welcome her officially to the family.

Lucy quickly turned away, cutting through the crowd to get to the bar and order what she suspected to be the first of many glasses of whiskey she would consume over the evening.

After ensuring there was no evidence of the tears she shed at the church, she’d finally made her way to the room that the reception was being held in. The place was jam packed with guests. Not only were all the Shelbys there for the occasion, but so were the small handful of Lizzie’s friends and family, as well as a good share of Tommy’s colleagues from Westminster, and various business partners and associates.

It was her primary goal this evening to avoid everyone. Including Tommy. She would probably just stick around for dinner and then sneak away. They had paid for rooms at the hotel for all the guests that wanted to spend the night, but Lucy frankly just wanted to go home. At the very least her dogs and cat were there to keep her company. She would tell someone–probably Ada–when she was off so that they would know where she went. Assuming that they even noticed her missing at all, of course.

“Lucy, can I speak with you for a moment?”

She started, hand tightening reflexively around her glass of whiskey. Lizzie had snuck up behind her without her even noticing, too lost in musing over her plans of escaping the event early. Lucy stared up at her like a deer in headlights, eyes wide. She suddenly felt even shorter than usual. On a normal day, Lizzie towered over her, but in heels and her wedding dress, she seemed even taller and more regal than usual.

She truly did look every bit the part of the new Queen of Birmingham.

“Sure,” Lucy said, having to clear her throat in order to get the word out. Lizzie took her firmly by the arm and began to steer her away into a side room that was unoccupied.

“I wanted to ask you, since we arranged for Ruby’s things to be moved into Arrow House while we’re away, if you would be willing to move rooms,” Lizzie wasted no time on small talk, immediately stating her request the moment that the door was closed. Her fingers traced over the wedding bands on her left ring finger. Lucy wondered if it was an unconscious movement, or if she was trying to remind her of her place. “I want her room to be closer to mine, you see. In case she needs anything in the middle of the night.”

Lizzie had been by the house earlier to get more familiar with it, and to choose her room. The main master bedroom they once shared with Grace was off limits, but she had her pick of any of the others. She had chosen a large room next door to the one Tommy and Lucy normally occupied.

She hadn’t been bothered when they informed her that her choice of room was next to theirs. Had she been planning to ask Lucy to move even then?

She gave a slight shake of her head. You’re being paranoid, she scolded herself. Lizzie’s thought process made sense. Ruby ought to be close to her mother’s room.

“Yes, of course, that’s fine. I’ll tell Francis when I get back–”

“I already told her,” Lizzie cut her off. “And I already picked out another room for you. I told them to move your things today while we were out.”

Then why did you bother asking? Lucy mused internally, but bit her tongue.

“I hope that’s alright,” Lizzie added, and Lucy immediately felt bad for thinking the worst of her. Especially when she was probably just trying to ensure that Ruby was able to get settled as quickly as possible.

“Oh, it’s…fine.”

Lizzie smiled, reaching out to squeeze her arm. “Thank you.” From outside, there was the sound of someone announcing that dinner was to be served soon, asking everyone to find their seats. “We ought to go.”

Lucy nodded, and followed her out the door, lingering back a little while Lizzie dashed off to go to the table reserved at the far end of the room for her and Tommy. Circular tables were scattered all throughout the room, and Lucy began to weave carefully around them. Notecards sat atop each place setting, inscribed with each guest's name written in delicate calligraphy to indicate their assigned seat.

All of the Shelbys were seated near the front, right by Tommy and Lizzie’s table. All except for her, notably. She found her notecard at a table near the back, placed about as far away from Tommy and Lizzie’s table as it was possible for her to be. She stared down at it, rubbing her thumb across the golden loops of her name as if that would somehow encourage it to change.

Sighing, she sank down into her chair, sharing an awkward smile with the other guests at the table, none of which she knew. Sneaking a glance to the other side of the room, she eyed the Shelbys all sitting at their table together, chuckling at something Arthur was saying. The ache of feeling left out pinched at her heart.

I’m not a Shelby. I’m not family, she reminded herself, though it did nothing to soothe the sting.

There was a tug in her mind so strong that it was impossible to ignore. She’d been feeling them all day. Little nudges and pulls that were trying to get her attention. Begging her to please, just look at me. And yet also not wanting to push, trying to respect her space and leave her be to process what was happening.

But this was much more of a considerable yank, as if the person on the other end of the bond was a little panicked.

He didn’t know where she was, she realized. He was looking for her in the crowd and couldn’t find her, and was panicking that she’d left.

Guilt welled up inside her, because had that not been exactly what she was planning on doing once dinner was over? Disappearing without even a goodbye, and wholly believing that Tommy would not notice if she was gone.

What’s wrong with me? It was not the first time she had asked herself that. Why, no matter how many times he reassured her, could she not bring herself to fully believe him? She did in the moment, when his sweet words washed over her and he curled his body around hers in a protective, loving embrace that left her feeling warm and cherished. But the doubt always came back.

He said he loved her. He said he would never leave her. He had given her no reason not to believe him. So why couldn’t she?

Her fingers curled into a small fist, nails biting into the flesh of her palm; an attempt to punish herself for her ridiculous thoughts and even worse behavior.

She forced her eyes to raise from her plate, focusing across the room at Tommy. He was sitting up in his chair next to Lizzie, gaze scanning across the room, not really listening as his bride chatted giddily into his ear. His brow was knit, lips pulling down into a worried frown.

I’m here, she pulled gently on the indescribable bond between them, giving a small tug to the little red string tying them together. She had never spent much effort in trying to puzzle out what exactly the bond between them was. It had just always been there, even before she actually knew him.

His blue gaze snapped to her almost instantly, but his frown only deepened as he noticed where she was sitting.

The fuck are you doing all the way over there?

She held up the little note card to him in answer to his silent question. His gaze narrowed, lips parting, and she realized with horror that he was about to kick up a fuss to try to have her moved.

No! Don’t!

His mouth closed. Why not?

Think of how it will look!

So? You’re family. You ought to be seated as such. I want you close to me.

I don’t want to upset her. It’s supposed to be her day, Tommy. It’s fine, don’t worry about me.

The look on his face said that he very much did worry, but he thankfully kept his mouth shut, leaning back in his chair and casting her a regretful, apologetic look before his attention was pulled away by Lizzie.

Dinner was awkward, given that no one at her table seemed all that interested in talking with her. Lucy instead busied herself with pushing her fish around on her plate, her appetite evaporated. Once it was over, the band started up playing, and Tommy and Lizzie made their way onto the dancefloor for their first dance as husband and wife. People stood from their tables to gather around to watch, and Lucy took the chance to slip away, ducking back into the side room Lizzie had taken her to before dinner.

Rooting around in the little black clutch she’d brought with her, she snuck her fingers past the small gun tucked away inside to fish out her cigarettes and lighter. Upon cracking open the window to let the smoke out she was met with a rush of chilly evening air from outside. Goosebumps rose up on the skin or her arms despite the long sleeves of her dress, but she ignored them, perching herself on the windowsill to gaze down at the dark street below.

She would need to get a driver to take her home. It would be late by the time that she finally got back to the house, but she doubted that she would be sleeping much tonight anyway.

Her fingers squeezed a little around her cigarette. She had been trying not to think about the wedding night. Ever since they’d gotten together, she and Tommy had a rule regarding bringing others into their bed: they would not sleep with someone else unless they were both present. It was a rule they’d both followed steadfastly. Except with Grace, after they moved to Arrow House with her. But that had been different.

Grace would never have tried to rip her and Tommy apart.

It was a rule that was about to be broken. And even though she’d agreed to it, it still hurt. Whether it was simply the idea of Tommy sleeping with Lizzie without her, or Lizzie’s rejection of her being permitted to still be involved–they’d had plenty of threesomes with Lizzie in the past, after all–she could not entirely say. She had never handled feeling left out well, and try as she might, she could not bring herself to wholly trust Lizzie.

Despite his promises, would Tommy really be able to prevent Lizzie from driving a wedge between them? She was his wife. And Ruby’s mother. And Charlie’s step-mother. He needed to keep her happy. Lucy was his…what? His mistress, she supposed. The other woman. His dirty little secret.

She had once mused to herself how miserable it must be to be the mistress of a married man. So much of their lives doomed to be spent alone, only able to enjoy brief, fleeting moments with the person that they loved.

She understood a little better now. You take what you can get of them, because even a few seconds together was better than nothing at all.

She was going to have to get used to it. While Tommy said things would go mostly back to normal once they got back from Paris, she wasn’t so sure. He only planned to spend limited nights with Lizzie, and the door was still open for all three of them to fuck if they all wanted, but Lucy doubted Lizzie would be that amiable to the idea.

And what if either of them changed their minds?

That was all it would take to eradicate Lucy’s involvement with Tommy entirely. She could imagine it already: them, returning from their honeymoon, Tommy taking her by the hands and gently leading her away, telling her he was sorry. He wouldn’t be unkind about it, but that would not hinder him from speaking the words that would shatter her heart.

It was not out of the realm of possibility that he would realize during the honeymoon that he favored Lizzie over her. Honestly, she was still shocked that it hadn’t happened yet. Because when push came to shove she knew she wasn’t anywhere close to as pretty as Lizzie. No one in their right mind would choose Lucy over her. And that wasn’t even factoring in the children. Or that his family adored her. Or that they just looked right when standing next to each other. He always kept going back to Lizzie, even after she ceased her work as a prostitute. Sure, Lucy had always been agreeable to sleeping with her, because she liked Lizzie. But perhaps there was a reason why Tommy kept returning to her. One that not even he was entirely aware of.

Her head turned at the sound of the door opening. Tommy slipped in, quickly closing the door behind him and flicking the lock into place. He stood there, just looking at her, the dim light from the ornate lamps on the tables bouncing off of his sharp features.

“Love,” he said, softly. Stubbing her cigarette out on the windowsill and reaching over to pull the window closed, Lucy didn’t even hear as he moved closer. Not until his hand brushed tentatively against her shoulder.

“I think that I’m going to go home,” she said after a moment, not looking at him, instead keeping her gaze fixed firmly out the window.

“Okay.” She both was and wasn’t relieved that he didn’t fight her on it. “I’ll get someone to drive you.”

“Thank you.” Awkwardness settled between them. Lucy could not remember the last time that the silence they shared was anything but comfortable. Turning, she stood from the windowsill and finally forced herself to look at him. He was gazing down at her with a look of such deep regret and heartache, that just the sight of it almost made her start to cry.

“You’re still planning to leave early tomorrow morning?”

“Yes.”

She wouldn’t see him before they were off, then. Nodding, she glanced down, unable to meet the sad look in his eyes any longer. “You don’t need to worry about work or Ruby getting settled or anything. I’ll take care of it.”

He leaned forward, hand finding her chin and gently nudging her face up to look at him. His eyes searched her features. She parted her lips to speak, but it took her a few tries until her voice wasn’t too tear-laced for her to trust it.

“Have a fun honeymoon,” she finally managed to choke out. When she tried to pull away, his hands landed on her upper arms, holding her firmly in place.

“Lucy,” he said, a layer of franticness in his voice, “When I’m with her…I’m not with her.”

She stared at the center of his chest, examining the pattern on the tie tucked into his waistcoat, then tilted her head back up to him. His eyes were desperate, scared, grip tight like he was afraid if he let her go, he’d never get to touch her again.

“I know,” her voice was shaking, about two seconds away from starting to cry. And she was afraid that when she started, she would never be able to stop.

Tommy tugged her fully into his arms, folding her against his chest. He kissed her forehead softly, then laid his cheek against it as he held her tight.

“We’re not saying goodbye,” he said. “I’m coming back to you.”

Lucy squeezed her eyes shut, arms circling his middle and squeezing him to her. He squeezed her back, spreading kisses all across the crown of her head. For a moment the warmth of his body muffled the storm of doubt within her. The surety of his words, and the firmness with which he held her, were both nearly impossible to argue with. Surely he would not be holding her like this if he no longer loved her, would he?

Her breaths trembled in her chest as she tried her hardest to believe him. And yet a part of her still stubbornly insisted that she needed to commit every detail of his embrace to memory. The way that his chest rose and fell with his breaths. The scent of his natural musk and cologne. The slight flexing in his muscles when he adjusted his hold on her. His heartbeat was a steady thump against her cheek, and his chest was solid and pleasantly warm. She needed to remember all of these things. Store them away in a safe spot in her mind so that she could call back on them when she was alone and cold in the dark.

Because this may very well be the last time that he ever held her.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

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

#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby series #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders series #peaky blinders imagine #cillian murphy

44 notes · View notes

beckmessering · 3 years ago

Note

This may be unoriginal, but pls rank Wagner operas? <3

rankings killllll me bc i'm an indecisive btch but let the fun begin! in order of least to most loved :)

- der fliegende holländer. i do not vibe with it. the story is fine but every time i heard it, the music felt too loud (ironic considering some of the later choices on this list). there are two (2) parts i like and that'll be it for me, sir.

- lohengrin. this is NOT a statement about the quality of lohengrin and rather a statement about my lack of exposure. what i remember was beautiful, i just don't feel i know it enough or listen to it enough to justify giving it a higher rating. but there's a HUGE gap between holländer and lohengrin, so lohengrin is appreciated <3

- tristan und isolde. same as with lohengrin. i only recently reintroduced myself to it after a slightly disastrous first exposure where i didn't understand anything at all, and now i'd love to see more of it but don't feel i've grasped everything about it yet. i want to, though.

- götterdämmerung. i find it gets progressively more fun - the first act is longggggg and drags just *slightly* but things get spicy in the second and third act, where all my favourite musical bits are. also v fun to watch chaos unfold.

- tannhäuser. aka sex, sin, and singing in medieval germany. it was my first wagner opera and not the one i listen to the absolute most right now but i'm very fond of it, especially in productions that go a bit wild (looking at u, bayreuth)

[ entering the territory of Stuff I Have Most Hot Takes About ]

- siegfried. pretty much on par with tannhäuser. the title character annoys me very much and i'm not one for one-act-long love duets (also ironic considering upcoming choices). BUT musically it's very fun and the side characters are smashing (hi, mime) and a well-acted siegfried makes it very enjoyable for me. and the hot takes begin, ofc.

- die meistersinger von nürnberg. this one is a part-time tenant in my head that drops by rather often. i'm very picky about productions here and it's not a good opera for switching off your brain to (stay awake while richard tries to indoctrinate you about GeRmAn ArT, guys) but when i fall in love with a production, i fall HARD. i named my blog after beckmesser, the antagonist of meistersinger, and i shall carry this mantle for ages to come. honestly, come for the baritones.

- das rheingold. is this a comedy? not really. but considering that meistersinger isn't funny once you account for the antisemitism, rheingold is a proper comedy. the decisions made are HILARIOUS when you come to think of it and it's such a weird breakneck adventure. once again, smashing side characters (hellooo, loge), and i personally think it's the most finger-snapping wagner opera. sure, it sets up serious things, but in the right mood it's just unabashedly fun.

- die walküre. walküre kicked lots of other operas in the shins and got this spot. i'll spare you the story of how i started to like it, but i am very in love with it. the irony is that it a) can get very loud in parts and b) consists of at least 30% love duets (and a love story you shouldn't mention in public), which i adore. it's the perfect mix of excellent characters and fucked up decisions and it now lives rent-free in my head 24/7. bonus points for being the second opera that makes me cry on the regular.

- parsifal. the first opera to make me cry on the regular. i'm not that choosy at which part. i genuinely like some themes it explores, unusual as they are, and characters go without saying. it feels like comfort - parsifal in the darkness of my room is tells me everything is okay right now. at the same time, it feels a bit other to me, likely because i've never found anything like it, and it's like briefly seeing the world through a veil. it's like my feet haven't touched the ground after parsifal ends, and i don't want them to.

#thanks for the ask!#ranking things WAS fun #gtg for now because my flight is boarding #but i will be back #revedebeatrice

19 notes · View notes

brummiereader · 20 days ago

Text

@zablife Ahh Lee 🥰, your wonderful comments are more than enough ❤️!

Although Elsie didn't play a role in their discovery, I guess you could say, she gave her mum a heads-up when the nosy neighbour mentioned the postcard 😬.

Honestly, it's killlllling me to have her still stuck in that Stockholm syndrome mentality. But I really wanted to show the depths her dependency on Tommy goes.

The ring around her neck might as well be a noose the way she's wishing to be found. Excuse me a sec, just gonna jot this down for the last chapter 🤭😂. I love how you described her wedding ring as a noose, because being tied to dark!Tommy is a death sentence!

I definitely had creepy Campbell in mind when writing him! I wish I would have delved further into his growing feelings for her. But he's icky, and would have eventually deserved that gory death!

Eeek! I'm so happy you liked that scene, because it was the one scene I've been looking forward to writing since starting this series! I love anything supernatural, and even though I don't know much about tarot cards, I really enjoyed delving into it.

Exactly! Tommy always goes back to his roots when he runs out of solutions. 😂! So true! If it turns Arthur's stomach then you really know Tommy's taken it a step too far.

Of course he wouldn't 🤭! And you're absolutely right to feel that, Johnny is just as bad as him in this series. They're like a menacing duo 😬.

So happy to read you enjoyed that last image of Tommy observing the cottage from a distance. I actually envisioned the cottage from Love Actually for that part. So there you go, another beautiful image, ruined by yours truly 🤭😈.

It really is, and it wasn't even supposed to go to 7 chapters originally 😩! (Would you believe me if I told you I've thought of another dark!Tommy mini series 🤦🏼‍♀️😂?) But yep, we're close to the end with this one!

Thank you so much Lee, and for your wonderful reblogs as always ❤️! You never fail to mention my most fave parts 🥰.

Binding Love (Part Six/ Dark!Tommy)

Summary: Your new life, far away from the soot and fog, from your husband's raging paranoia and murders committed in the name of love, has feelings of guilt surface as your daughter continues to demand the whereabouts of her father. But even the false hope of a bright future faces jeopardy when you run into a familiar face in your small hamlet as Tommy spirals into madness back home in Birmingham.

Warnings: Dark!Tommy, language, violence, psychological mind games, controlling behaviour, toxic relationship, manipulative behaviour, psychological abuse, mutual pining, angst, murder, suicidal thoughts, use of one racial slur.

Word Count: 3K

[Masterlist] [Previous Part] [Trailer]

"Back again so soon" the raven-haired woman with a stack of jangling gold bangles and bulky stoned rings adorning her skin squinted with a smirk as she looked up through the midday sun to your husband hovering over the fire she had lit, its ashes swirling into the chilly winter skies.

" 10 shillings. One reading" Tommy blew a cloud of smoke down to her rising feet. The length of her dress trailed in mud from her hardened life on the road her free spirit called to, flowing behind her as she walked to her wagon.

" 20" she replied, knobbly fingers curling around the framed door to her home with an ushering nod of her head for your husband to follow her into the rickety wooden trailer, to the smell of sandalwood and frankincense burning as she placed the small gas lantern clutched in her hand onto its stand.

"15. And this time, you'll tell me where she is" Tommy's eyes darkened, grabbing her chin between his fingers as she hissed into her cushioned seat to the small table clothed in red and the stack of cards sat in the center.

Three times in one week Tommy had made the journey to the old woman's lonely wagon atop of the rocky field in the green pastures of the Black Country by horseback. Each time seeking answers to the burning question of your whereabouts that had sent him into a spiraling madness in the short time he had spent imprisoned. A time short lived thanks to his trusted friend Johnny Dogs knack and acquired skill at the removal and disposal of dead bodies.

But in the time that was spent pacing back and forth in his iron-clad cell, Tommy had entered a state of mind far darker than he'd entered with. With only whispered gossip leading to empty ends, your husband had resorted to the only thing his maddening mind sought. Other worldly guidance. His last and only chance to find you and his daughter.

"The child's toy" the wild haired woman's hand snapped out, crimson talons grabbing Elsie's cherished pony from your husband's fingers as her piercing eyes roamed over the shuffled cards, head gesturing with a snap for Tommy to pick the response he yearned to dull the torture he felt inside.

" Speak, old woman" Tommy demanded her toying response from her as he forced the card in her hand over onto the table.

" Thrashing waves, she stands on the cliff's edge. Your bern in her arms" her giggling voice watched the widening stare of your husband with satisfaction, his jaw clenching at the same card that had been dealt over and over again to his waiting eyes as she pushed it across the table with a cackle. "The Fool"

" LIAR!" Tommy's voice roared, toppling the array of cards onto the carpeted wagon as he lunged forward, straining hands grasping the throat of the woman whose many predictions had seeped into his unstable mind.

" New beginnings, freedom!" she gasped through your husband's tightening fingers as he cocked his head to her changing words.

" Go on" his brow raised as her life balanced precariously on the edge of Tommy's crazed moral compass and the response from her he would deem satisfactory or not.

" A new journey awaits her. But! But...one step off the cliff's edge, and she'll fall into danger. She needs your guidance to...to keep her safe" the jolting words had his fingers releasing from around her neck as she clawed at her drying throat.

Tossing but a single shilling at her feet, Tommy placed a fresh cigarette between his lips, fingers striking the aspen match against its box as he walked out of her disheveled home.

"But a fool you are, Thomas Shelby. And too late" she quietly seethed with a menacing giggle, throwing the measly bronze coin from her as your husband snapped back at her vapid words and manic laugh with fury, flicking the lit match into the pile of tarot cards with a heavy slam to the door that saw the precariously seated gaslight fall to the carpeted floors.

Locked within the flames, screams of pain, of death rolled over the fields of England as Tommy drew his gun from his holster, pushing the metal barrel to his temple.

" I'm coming, darling" he closed his eyes with a whisper at the image of you and Elsie flickering behind his lids, yearning to be reunited with you in the watery death he believed you had succumbed to.

With the click of the trigger, Tommy fell to the ground, only for his eyes to snap open to the earthy bed of grass surrounding him and a pair of laced boots approaching him through his fluttering lashes.

" Heaven doesn't want you, Tom. And hell's too afraid you'll take over" Arthur's voice and reaching arm pulled him up from the ground, hand full of unspent bullets clutched within the calloused pads of his fingers.

" 'ere" he pulled a silver flask of whiskey from within his tailored waistcoat, eyes turning from the blackening wagon as his stomach churned in disgust at the smell of burning flesh.

" You're right, brother" Tommy swigged back the sharp notes of spice and oak, believing the other worldly forces he had sought had intervened and not that of his brothers' hindsight to remove the beckoning call of death Tommy had answered to.

Unable to stand the gruesome trail of dead bodies that had accompanied Tommy to the four corners of England in search of you, Arthur waited by the car as your husband watched the collapsing walls of the old woman's wagon fall apart into charred blackness.

Rising from the muddied ground, your husband squinted through the fumes until he reached the remains of the dead woman and your daughter's pony still intact in her hands. Clear proof to your husband and every sign he clung to, you were both still alive.

" Fuck sake" Tommy's brows knitted together as the disintegrating mane of Elsie's horse disappeared between his fingers, the small toy holding more importance than the body at his feet he stepped over without an ounce of remorse as he walked down the grassy hill to the waving hand of Johnny Dogs stood with Arthur by his car.

" Tom...Tom, she's been spotted" Johnny's arm looped around Tommy's back with a nodding grin, patting the slouching chest of your husband with a small picturesque postcard of a seaside town in his hand as your husband hunched over with welling eyes of relief darting to the greying skies.

"Seems heavens still on my side, eh boys?"

"Elsie shut the door" you pulled your chin from the palm of your hand as you sat against the bay window watching your daughter, muddy boots and unkempt hair traipsing through the kitchen.

"Elsie!" your patience snapped as she continued to ignore you, kicking her shoes off before running out of sight upstairs with a string of demands to see her father following her stomping feet before the slam of her bedroom door closed shut.

"Fuck..." you pinched the thumping headache between your brows as you stood up, swinging the creaking door shut as your eyes darted down to the lock.

Did you want him to get out and find you? Haul you back to Arrow House? Was that what you wanted now? you thought to yourself as the tips of your fingers brushed over the brassy handle.

Anything would be better than this, you snatched your hand away as your welling eyes and slow steps plodded you back to your spot by the window you had set up camp for the past week.

Your new home. Your new life. A small bricked cottage by the white cliffs of Dover, a large garden for Elsie to play in, a crackling fire for you and your daughter to curl up to on long winter nights. Far from Birmingham, far from the fog and soot, far from your husband and his raging paranoia. It was everything you had hoped it would be. And yet, you still longed for him. Still dreamed of him. Was he dreaming of you?

"I'm sorry" you clutched your wedding band looped through the chain around your neck. The binding gold ring you had once expelled to the small dish on your vanity, now permanently settled against your heart as you spent your days dwelling in regret.

For guilt had become your closest companion in the past weeks, a companion that would join you in the evenings when your daughter lay sound in her bed, and you knocked back the rapidly dwindling bottle of whiskey stuffed behind the frilly pillow on the bay window as you gazed out at the waves, mind drifting to Tommy.

Was it the empty void of Tommy's paranoia no longer filling your days that had you regretting your choice? Or was it Elsie's constant questions about the whereabouts of her father that had you wishing you could turn back the clocks of time, to forgive and forget? your mind plagued you as the sacrifices you were willing to make as a mother if it meant making your daughter happy seeped into your thoughts. After all, he was only trying to keep you safe, wasn't he?

"Y/N?" a voice and the creak of your front door opening drifted to you as the detective that had arranged your witness protection strode through.

"You should be keeping this shut" he shoved his raised gun back into its holster with a disappointed huff, thumbling with the rickety lock as your frowning face approached him.

Why did he have his gun raised? Tommy was in jail. You was safe, wasn't you? you stepped forward with a head full of concerning questions when Elsie came running down the stairs.

" Daddy!" your six-year-old screeched, mistaking the gravelly voice for her fathers as she came to a stumbling stop at the bottom of the stairs.

" Hello Elsie, look what I found for you" he bent down to her small frame, handing her a newly purchased pony, locks wrapped in a red ribbon.

" Elsie" you nodded to her with a stern face to thank the gentlemen as her sulking lips and swaying legs quietly accepted the horse.

" Thank you" she sniffed, turning the poor replacement for the one Tommy had first brought her in her hand as her pleading eyes looked up at you to let her leave.

" Go on" you let her go, hands threading through the ends of her locks as she hurried back upstairs with another slam to her door.

" She'll adjust" the officer guided you to the kitchen clearing his throat, deciding not to put another dousing of stress into your already difficult day with the news of Tommy's release.

" Tea?" he asked, watching you fall into your spot by the window with a passing nod of your head.

With a fresh brew of Earl Grey cupped within your palms, you scooted your feet back as the detective settled himself opposite you on the wooden bench.

" How are you?" his questions tore your from the bottom of the garden and the swinging gate, toing and froing.

Tommy, your heart jumped with muddled emotions of both fear and relief that he'd found you as a gust of wind battered against the window, and you slouched back into your seat with disappointment.

" Fine" you absently responded, gaze drifting over the unkempt grass outside, looping your necklace tightly around your finger as the muffling chatter from the officer continued.

You could be as cold as him, as callous as him, you tried to convince yourself that you possessed the same darkness as your husband, that you could ignore his misgivings if it meant hushing the sounds of codependency you still shared with him.

" So, how about it?" the detective's voice drifted back into your preoccupied thoughts as his heavy hand cupped your knee.

" Sorry?" you scrambled to understand what you had missed as you pulled your cardigan around your body, shielding yourself from his roaming eyes your absent mind had let go unnoticed.

" Take you out, so you can let your hair down?" he sent you a playful smile, lips curled around the warm mug of tea as your scrunching brow and his misplaced affections had you rising to your feet with a fumbling cascade of apologies.

" I'm sorry, I'm just...I don't think, I don't think I'll be in the mood" you politely refused his offer, suddenly feeling vulnerable, suddenly desperate for your husband's overbearing protectiveness as the officer stalked towards you.

" Maybe when I pop by next time then?" he smiled, brushing a lock of hair from your flinching face as you stepped back, feeling like you had given the wrong impression after the countless times you had welcomed him into your new home, the countless times he had made the long journey from the midlands to check on your safety you accepted feeling indebted to him.

" M-hm" you wordlessly replied as you slipped behind the kitchen table to the front door, hoping he'd get the hint and follow you out.

" Take care Y/N, and lock that door" he squeezed your arm with a wink, fingers waving to Elsie stood at the top of the stairs with her father's infamous Shelby scowl staring him down.

Pulling his coat around him from the icy winds, he came to a stop along the cobbled path, mumbling his appetite for you as he turned to see you stood by your open door, only your cardi shielding you from the bitter cold and the thin nightie underneath.

" Pretty little thing, ain't you just" he turned back to his car with a pleased smile as his partner raced towards him.

" Boss! Boss, there's a road block that's causing chaos down by the turning" he breathlessly informed the seasoned officer as he clutched onto the wooden fencing.

"I've had a Shepard ranting and raving for me to do something for the past thirty minutes, Sir " the young officer looked up at the creasing brow of his superior, watching him walk to his waiting car with a shake of his head. "Sir?"

" Not our district, son" he slipped into his car turning the ignition, tires rolling past your coastal cottage to the bend in the path and said road block with a disgruntled huff at the sight in front of him.

" Fucking gypsies" his fingers tightened around the wheel, eyes honing in on the empty wagon abandoned in the middle of the road and the Shepard's failing attempts to keep control of his herd as his dogs snapping jaw barked at the wooden block in the road, when a tap to his window and a grinning stout man with thumbs hooked under the suspenders of his trousers appeared outside of his car.

" Top of the morning to you, officer"

"The fresh air will do you good. Do us both good" your attempts to convince your child quickly fell short as you marched along the frosty ground in the freezing temperatures that came with living by the sea.

" Can we go home now?" she looked up at you with wind-nipped cheeks and a reddened nose as you battled with the bagful of shopping between your numbing fingers.

" I just need to pop into the corner shop..." you were cut off by your daughter coming to a scowling stop and a stomp of her foot as she pulled her mittened hand from yours.

" Back to daddy, back to Birmingham Mummy!" she shuffled her feet against the icy cement, doe eyes pulling at the withering strings of your heart as she looked up at you.

" Elsie..." you sighed, crouching down to her as you adjusted your poor attempt at a knitted wooly hat over her ears, clueless on what to say, knowing she was too young to understand the complexities of her parents' relationship, and the gruesome things her father had done in the name of love. " Darling, I..."

" Mrs Shelby, I thought it was you. Didn't I tell you Mildred, I wasn't seeing things" the nattering of an elderly lady accompanied by her friend walking arm in arm shuffled towards you along the slippery ground as you bolted up with widening eyes, head snapping over your shoulder to see the last person you wished to see approaching you.

"Just last week, I was certain I saw you down by the bakery" she came to a stop in front of you, gleaming eyes patiently waiting for your response.

" Mrs Cross" you pulled your daughter into your body as the woman who was known as Small Heath's biggest gossiper, just so happened to be in the same hamlet in the same godforsaken freezing ends of England at the same time as you smiled to you and your daughter.

" What are...are you here on holiday?" you swallowed back your mounting panic, desperately trying to shroud your nerves with a pleasant smile of surprise.

" Goodness no, not in this weather" her brow furrowed at the pointy icicles hanging over head as she adjusted her fur coat around her frail body.

"A bereavement in the family" she clarified when questions about your unexpected appearance in Dover spilled from her inquisitive mind.

" And you?" her glistening eyes peaked with curiosity, eager for a new topic of conversation for her and her friend to natter over during their afternoon tea.

" Just a small getaway" you lied, keeping things brief as you clutched the bag of potatoes and parsnips for the soup you envisioned warming your shivering bones in your hand, knowing too well how quickly anything that sounded untoward would travel back to Birmingham at the speed of light if you let your tongue slip.

" Some much needed family time together, hm?" her observing eyes scanned behind you, expecting to see your husband accompanying you on said getaway.

" Yes, just the three of us" you lied for a second time through eager smiles at the blissful image of a happy family spending time in a quaint cottage by the coast you hoped the nosey resident of your hometown envisioned as your daughter's head darted up at you with a frown of confusion.

" How lovely" her attentions drifted to your daughter's eyes cast down in a sorrowful gaze at the slippery pavement and the lone strand of graze stuck beneath the sheath of ice that covered it. " Is that not so, Miss Elsie?"

" I want to go home" your daughter sniffled her response, while your fingers squeezed tightly around the corded bag in your hand as your heart began to rapidly thud against your chest at the gossiping woman's questions that could worm out the real reason why you was currently in the small deserted village if the unfiltered honesty of your child elaborated.

" Oh sweet child, you've not missed out on anything, my dear. Just last week I sent a postcard back with news from my end. And my neighbour Ethel diligently informed me that our little town is the same as it has always been" she informed your child with a gentle pinch on her plump cheek as her words hurtled a thousand worries to you.

Did she tell her gossiping conspirator that she had seen you? Had news gotten back to Tommy about your whereabouts? you began to panic as a ball of unease settled in your stomach, when your taunting mind reminded you of your sentiments that morning with one last question. But isn't that what you wanted, him to come find you?

"It was lovely seeing you Mrs Cross, but we must be off. Goodbye" you sharply turned on your heel, leaving your muddled emotions with the elderly duo curiously watching you scurry away with your child's dragging feet behind you.

" Strange Mildred" the old lady's eyes narrowed in on you slipping behind the cobbled wall of the corner shop before turning back to her friend with a knitted brow.

" What is, dear?" her shivering companion queried as she watched her baring along the slippery ground.

" Where is, Mr Shelby?"

With your daughter tucked safely asleep in her bed, you wrapped the ties of your dressing gown around your body, padding to your bedroom window and the flickering candle sat on top of the windowsill as you waited for the reassuring presence of the cop car that would roll past your home every night.

" Slowly" your husband commanded the detective as he sat behind the driver's seat of the unmarked car with the barrel of his gun pointed to the side of the officer's head.

"We wouldn't want to give her a fright, now would we?" Tommy's smile contorted into a malicious smirk as they slowly approached your house, the frightening scene shielded by the dark confides of the car and cloudy night skies.

" Well would you look at that. There she is. My wife" Tommy's eyes darted to you stood at the window as a sigh of relief left his throat upon seeing you after weeks of waiting. Heart momentarily overcome with satisfaction, with love, before his anger for your daring actions shrouded the moment.

" Go on, flash the lights. You're scaring her you" Tommy demanded, scooting forward in the leather-padded seat upon seeing your head dart up and down the lonesome road in a panic as his gun burrowed into the quivering man's skull.

With the blinking confirmation of the headlights reassuring you of your safety, you sent a short wave of gratitude as your nightie fell open, revealing your thin slip underneath that had the detective snap his head away, nervously clearing his throat.

" You enjoy watching my wife, you fucking perv, eh?" Tommy's anger snapped in the mumbling man's ear as the officer scooted in his seat away from the exposed sight of you.

" Just doing as told" he nervously darted his shifted gaze to the rear-view mirror and the darkened reflection of Tommy sat behind him, eyes shadowed by his peaked cap and the lies his searing stare were reading through. Lies that only confirmed his need to protect you, to keep you safe.

" Go" Tommy ordered him with a nod of his head to the road ahead of them as you blew out the burning candle before returning to the warmth of your lonely bed. Oblivious of who was behind the wheel of your nightly patrol and the man accompanying him.

"Please" the officer pleaded for his life to the sound of the rumbling wheels coming to a steady stop along the gritted path as Tommy's reaching hand pulled the key from the ignition.

" Sorry, threes a crowd" he swiftly pulled his cap from his head, slicing the shining blade across the man's throat. Inflicting a bloody gurgling death on the detective until he succumbed to the liters of blood pooling in his lap and lifelessly fell forward onto the wheel.

Crimson stained gloves pinched around the cigarette in his hand, Tommy's long coated frame stood in front of the rear headlights of the abandoned car as a cloud of smoke parted in front of his eyes to the emerging sight of the picturesque cottage you and your daughter slept peacefully inside of.

" Sweet dreams, my darlings"

Next Part (Final Chapter) coming soon!

Tag list: @peakyswritings @justrainandcoffee @garrison-girl-08 @meadows5 @lavender-haze-01

@strangeobsessed @ttae-yong @lemonwithstupidity @lindsay00000 @mischievouslittlecreature

@jbrownta @lau219 @whereismymindnow @honeymoon8 @bruhidkjustwannaread

@strrvnge @paintedinpinks @edgyficuselastica @strangeions @youngbananamilkshake

#comment rb #lee ❤️#binding love

123 notes · View notes