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#did want to go see oppenheimer actually...

10zitten10 · 9 months

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Do you like to use the Mushroom Cloud as a fun Barbieheimer meme? If you do, it's fine so long as you know what the cloud caused and what it symbolizes. If you don't know the circumstances of the mushroom cloud, please search ''Hiroshima Nagasaki atomic bomb people (with your safe search off)' on Google Images. *The images are very disturbing. Please DO NOT try it if you are sensitive to extremely disturbing images.

I'm Japanese. In Japan, unfortunately, many people have never seen the old pictures of the real effects of the mushroom cloud. We learn about the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki (both are cities in Japan) in primary school or junior high, when we are about 10-14 years old. Many adults think it's too risky to show children the pictures because it shows human bodies, which look like human charcoal. Living people got severe burns on their faces, their backs, and their whole bodies looked like melting wax (additionally, most of the people in the pictures are citizens, not soldiers. There are many kids, babies, and old people, of course.) Even though it happened in our land, many people (including me, I'm ashamed to say though) don't feel it was an actual event because it seems very unreal and it happened almost 80 years ago. Fortunately, I had a chance to learn about the atomic bombing and see several pictures of it. Now I know what happened in 1945. I think some people here/outside of Japan realize it as well.

I don't blame people born outside of Japan who have never known/learned about the effects of the atomic bombing. I want to ask you to learn and understand what happened under that iconic mushroom cloud before you make a meme with it. If you think 'So what?' after that, I will have nothing more to say to you.

I've not seen Barbie or Oppenheimer because they are not released here yet. But I feel they are both very interesting. I'm looking forward to watching them. I wish I could have fun watching them without any distractions before going to the theatres.

Don't get me wrong. I know that during World War II the Japanese government did tons of terrible things to people outside and inside of Japan. I just want people to know that atomic bombing is a very serious issue, and using the images of the mushroom cloud as a meme/design is like using a symbol of the Nazi/KKK as a fun meme. It's not fun. Atomic bombing should never happen anywhere in the world.

#I'm NOT saying it to make Japanese people 'victims' of the memes #I'm afraid that people get used to making jokes about it #or forget how horrible nuclear weapons are #the atomic bomb in 1945 killed 129000-226000 people in total #at least 88% of those were civilians #the total number is uncertain #because in many cases there were no remains to be found

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moon-rivr · 6 months

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Miguel being a nerd by blabbering all about smart stuff and reader just adoring him blabbering. Miguel gets a bit shy with the way the reader looks at him but the reader just tells him to continue ;]

barbenheimer

pairing: nerd miguel x fem reader

warnings: fluff mostly, smut, riding (yeehaw), and cum eating 🫡

author’s note: a bit of a short one, hope you don’t mind <3 (ik the movies came out in july but this is the first thing that popped up when i read the request 😭) anyways, nerd miguel 🔛🔝 (he’s really a bottom but you get the point)

word count: 1.8K

** for more nerd miguel fics, highly recommend @nymphomatique (they’re so good 👩🏻‍🍳🤌🏼)

To be fair, you probably should've expected this. You'd asked Miguel if he wanted to join you for the Barbenheimer event, the Oppenheimer part mostly just being the purpose of seeing Cillian Murphy on the big screen again. Unlike most of the movies you asked him to watch with you, his eyes lit up as soon as you suggested the idea.

The two of you headed back home from watching Barbie, still having about an hour before the next showing of Oppenheimer started. "Baby, why're you so excited? It's just about a bomb," you asked him as the two of you walked home, clad in the pink attire that you'd chosen to wear for the Barbie movie. "It's more than just a bomb, mi amor. It's about the first atomic bomb and how it affected warfare after that," he responded, letting out a small chuckle as you two walked inside your shared apartment. You noticed his eyes drift over at the clock on the wall, clearly anticipating the 'Oppenheimer' part of the marathon. "Hopefully it'll hold up to Barbie, I mean that movie is just so raw and emotional. The peak of cinema, really," you decided to tease him a bit and the way he turned to look at you proved that it'd worked.

"Hold up to Barbie? Don't get me wrong, that movie was great, mi amor. But Oppenheimer is on a completely different level, it shows the complexity of J. Robert Oppenheimer’s repercussions after creating the atomic bomb. It's so much more than just a bomb going boom," he spoke and you couldn't help but let out a little laugh at how easy it was to rile him up about the subject. His cheeks flushed red after he realized that you were just teasing, sitting down next to you. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound like a smartass," he mumbled, rubbing the side of his neck.

"Don't worry, I like hearing you talk about something you're passionate about," you respond, placing your hand on top of his knee. He held your hand in his, slowly rubbing circles on your palm. "Do you want me to tell you some more about it? Just so you have some information before we head inside the movie," he offered and you nodded, mostly because you liked the way that Miguel sounded when he explained things. He was always eager to teach you new things and he did it in a way that didn't make you feel dumb, which you greatly appreciated.

"So basically, Oppenheimer’s career was in the gutter before the creation of the bomb since the government was convinced that he was working with communists and he'd actually been opposed to the creation of a hydrogen bomb," he started off and you looked over to see him already staring at you as he talked. He continued to tell you about the history of the bomb and why it was developed, and you tried to pay attention to what he was saying, you really did, but you found yourself getting lost in how beautiful he looked at the moment. His eyes were sparkling behind those glasses he wore as he spoke, clearly passionate about what he was sharing with you and his hands were frantically moving with his words, struggling to keep up. You were snapped out your thoughts when you realized that Miguel had stopped speaking and was now facing you with a frown on his face.

"Am I boring you?" He asked softly, his hand still resting on top of yours. You hadn't meant to make him feel that way, you had just gotten lost in the way that he spoke and the way that he had the look of a kid in a candy store when he shared something he found interesting. "No, please continue. You just look so pretty when you talk about things you like," you responded, pressing a small kiss on his cheek afterwards. "You're sure I’m not boring you?" He asked, a little worried since he'd divulged that most of his ex flings didn't like him when he got all nerdy. "Nothing you do is boring, Miguel. Keep talking," you responded, rubbing small circles on his hand with your thumb.

He looked at you a little warily before he started to speak once more, going back on the points that you'd missed. You settled on his lap, clinging to him tightly as he spoke as you left small kisses on the side of his neck. He stuttered a bit as he spoke, looking down at you as you started moving your hips against his. "Did my sweet girl get turned on by this?" He whispered, his hand slowly tracing circles on your inner thigh. "I didn't tell you that you could stop with your explanation," you responded, your lashes fluttering as you looked up at him. He continued speaking as you moved against him, his cock tightening up in his pants as you did. He abruptly stopped speaking when he looked to the side, seeing that the sun was already starting to set.

"Hey, how much time do we have until the movie starts?" He asked you, letting out a small whimper when he felt your lips on his collarbone once more. "It started an hour ago, actually," you replied, and he could've sworn that you were joking with how calm you said it but quickly realized that you were right when he turned to look at the clock on the wall. "Why didn't you say anything, mi amor?" he asked you, not mad but just a little upset that he would have to wait longer. "Well, like I said, you just looked too excited to interrupt you. And I mean, you have quite the nuclear weapon in your pants, Miguel. Is the movie really necessary?" You asked him, deciding to tease him a little bit but his face told you he wasn't having it. "Okay, okay, we can catch the next showing in a hour. Now what do you suggest we do with this free time?" You responded and he got up from the couch, your legs clinging around his waist as you held onto him. "I have a couple ideas on what we could do."

"You know, this isn't exactly what i had in mind when you said you had ideas," you mumbled as miguel turned on the tv, putting on an Oppenheimer documentary. "Oh? And what did you have in mind, bonita?" He asked you with such faux innocence you couldn't help but let out a little giggle as you rolled onto his lap. "Was thinking of something more like this," you responded as you started kissing his neck, leaving small bites in your wake. He grabbed the tv remote, turning off the documentary as you continued to grind your hips against his. You grabbed the glasses from his face, putting them on before quickly putting them on the nightstand. "Jeez, Miguel, you're really blind," you mumbled, taking off his pants. "Ah, yes. nothing turns a man on more than being told how blind he is."

You took his cock out of his jeans, slowly stroking it with your hand as it hardened with your touch. You slide down the pink pants you had on and rub his cock against your folds, getting it lubricated with your juices. He let out a soft moan as you did so, his hands instinctively coming to rest on your thighs. You slowly started to sink onto his cock, holding his shoulders for some semblance of balance. It was moments like these that you were glad no one really approached your boyfriend, since despite him being a nerd, he could have you screaming and gripping the bedsheets as he pounded into you.

The two of you let out a hiss as you sank onto his cock completely, your walls engulfing him. "Always filling me up so good, Miguel," you whispered as you leaned in, pressing small kisses onto his neck before you planted your hands and feet on the bed. You slowly started to move up his cock, always having a bit of trouble adjusting given how big and thick he was. You sank onto his cock once more, eliciting a whimper from him as you did, his fingers digging into your thighs. You set a slow pace while you were still adjusting, your hips swiveling with every move you took.

You sped up after the pain in between your legs dissipated into pleasure, your cunt clenching up to engulf Miguel’s cock as much as possible. He let out a soft groan as you did and leaned in, peppering your chest with kisses before he attached his mouth to one of your nipples. He kept his eyes on yours as he played with your nub, his teeth gently pulling at it while his other hand followed the same ministrations. "Am I making you feel good, mistress?" He asked with a small whine escaping his lips when you pulled at his hair. "So good, Miguel," you responded, a small moan escaping from your lips as you felt his tongue swirl around your nipples.

You felt a soreness in your thighs a while after you'd been riding his cock, your movements slowing down. Miguel quickly came to that realization and planted his feet on the bed, thrusting into you at a rapid pace. Your back arched as his cock brushed up against your g-spot, loud moans escaping from your mouth. He put his fingers to good use and started rubbing small circles that went in tandem with the rhythm of his thrusts. You felt a coil tightening up inside you with every thrust that he took, almost at the point of snapping.

You came with a moan of Miguel’s name, your nails digging into his shoulder blades as you did. If he felt any sort of pain, he didn't show it as he continued to chase his own orgasm. You let out soft whimpers as he continued with his thrusts, starting to feel a little too stimulated before he came, painting your walls white in the process. You reached down and scooped some of the cum on your finger, sucking it dry as you tasted a combination of him and you. He pulled his softening cock out of you before he leaned in, kissing you deeply as his tongue tasted the remnants of you two combined.

You two did end up watching a little bit of the documentary that he'd picked out beforehand before you two got re-dressed to go to the movies. He was quick on getting ready this time, not sparing a second since he was aware that this would be the last showing for today. "C'mon, let's go," he pleaded, shifting from foot to foot as you put your shoes back on. "We still have twenty minutes before the movie starts," you responded, letting out a small laugh as you wiped away the sweat from your forehead. The two of you did actually end up making it to the movie on time, and you couldn't help but feel a warmth spread throughout your chest as you saw the smile on Miguel’s face when the movie started.

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idksmtms · 3 months

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Golden Globes - Cillian Murphy x reader

Summary: Written from the perspective of press and viewers of the golden globes; how cute are Cillian Murphy and his girlfriend Y/n L/n?! From the red carpet to his acceptance speech, look at what a mesmerising couple these two make!

Word count: 2,250

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, very slight profanity, mostly just fluff (please let me know if I missed any)

Disclaimer: This is written purely for fictional purposes and for the sake of writing. No disrespect is intended to the real people portrayed/concerned in this scenario.

AN: Inspired by Yvonne and Cillian actually being the cutest couple ever at the Golden Globes. Also, if you catch the sneaky Succession reference: mwah! Edit: Just watched an interview clip where he says everyone calls him Cill as his nickname and I will be gratuitously using that from now on.

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

Part 1: Red Carpet

“And next to arrive onto the red carpet is Cillian Murphy! He’s a favourite to win the Golden Globe for Best Actor in a Drama Motion Picture, and I mean, rightly so, he killed it in Oppenheimer!”

“Right?! And I have to say, whoever styled him tonight knew what they were doing, because mmm chef’s kiss right there.”

“For real, but knowing him he probably grabbed an old suit out of his closet and put it on, hahahah.”

“I bet he wishes, but Y/n would never let him, and there she is! Oh look how stunning she looks! For all our viewers who are unaware, that’s Y/n L/n, Cillian Murphy’s girlfriend and the other half of our favourite couple!”

“Is that a vintage Schiaparelli?! Um, someone did not come to play. Aw, look how cute they are, he refuses to let go of her hand. I want a man like that.”

“The way he smiles at her?! You can really tell they love each other, and awwww she’s blushing!!! You guyssssss, I can’t handle this.”

“Hahahah, she’s forcing him to go out and strut his stuff, how sweet. That’s the definition of a supportive partner right there, always wanting you to have your moment to shine.”

“Honestly, and like, I know we’re supposed to be watching Cillian but guys look how SHE watches him. That’s true love right there, and no one can convince me otherwise.”

“D’you remember that interview where he talked about the little gifts she gets him at the end of each of his movies?”

“Oh my god yeah, that was adorable, she makes him something small to remember each of his movies, like she knits or crochets or crafts something for him right?”

“Yeah, exactly, well apparently, since this was his sixth movie with Nolan, she made the little tokens for all the producers and like the lead team. I was in TEARS when I heard, because who is that sweet? Like who is THAT sweet to their partner’s whole team?”

“I didn’t know that, oh my god, I love her even more. No wonder Cillian loves her, I get it, I fully support it.”

“Ok, seems like Cillian’s done getting his pictures taken and- aw! He’s looking for her! Cillian, bestie, she’s right there, ok ok ok, they found each other. Look at that hug!”

“A man who adjusts the train of your dress like that to help you walk easier??? That is a man worth having, and Cillian Murphy is clearly the best man. Gosh look at the way she leans into him when they walk, and he’s just rubbing her back all soft and sweet, aaaaa I think I’m gonna melt.”

“Oo! Ok, they’re going for interviews and the next person to come up is…”

Part 1.2: Interview

“Hi Cillian! How are you feeling tonight?”

“I’m doing well thank you, a little nervous I guess, how are you?”

“I’m great! Having a lot of fun here at the Golden Globes! How did you enjoy the red carpet? Any chance to meet others yet?”

“Yeah, it’s grand, very… opulent, heh, and no! Unfortunately I haven’t had a chance to properly greet anyone yet, but I’m sure when we get inside I’ll have plenty of time for that.”

“Alright, let’s talk about your movie for a bit, how does it feel to see all the recognition it’s getting?”

“It feels deserved, you know? Everyone worked so hard on that film and put in a hundred and ten percent and it feels like people have really noticed it and seen not only the talent but the effort the team put in.”

“Were you expecting such resounding fame for the movie?”

“I mean, I definitely knew at least some people would watch it because Chris made it, hahaha, and people have recognised how amazing he is, but I guess you never really know how popular a movie is going to be until it comes out. But it’s truly amazing to see how it resonated with audiences.”

“You’ve spoken in past interviews about the importance of a strong and accepting support system for people in this line of work, how did such an intense movie fit into your life?”

“I mean, I treated it like I treat all my roles - it is a job at the end of the day - but it’s always great to have my family willing to put up with odd schedules and having to be away from home for long periods of time. My girlfriend, heh, she’s actually really great with this stuff. She always makes sure to call me while I’m away, she comes to visit as often as she can, and she just has this way of making anywhere feel like home, you know? Regardless of where I am, or what I’m doing, I can count on her, and that’s probably the best part of my life. It’s a really bad habit of hers but she stays up late with me if I have an oddly timed call or interview or whatever, just to be there with me.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet! It’s amazing the way you talk about her, she sounds like a great person!”

“She really really is. I mean, there’s some people out there who are just blessed with the biggest hearts and even just their presence can make life better, you know? And that’s her. I don’t know where I would be without her in my life to be honest with you.”

“Oh how cute! Well, we’ll let you go, tell your girlfriend how much we love her, and good luck with your award tonight!”

“Thank you.”

Part 2: The Main Event

“And the Golden Globe goes to… Cillian Murphy!” You let out a rather unholy shriek that you were sure would be caught on camera and posted all over, but you were too excited to care. You jumped up, grabbing Cillian by his shoulders and pressing your lips to his mouth and face, over and over until there were lipstick smudges across his nose.

“You did it Cill! You did it,” you whispered, rubbing at his face to try and wipe away the lipstick. He had the lightest red splotches across his nose and cheek but they mixed into the flush on his skin so you let him be after a moment. Your face hurt from smiling, your whole body buzzing because finally, finally, he had gotten the recognition he had long deserved.

“Oh boy, my first question, do I have lipstick all over my nose? Ah, I’m just gonna leave it. Um, I-I knew the first time that I walked on Chris Nolan’s set that it was different. I could tell by the level of rigour, the level of focus, the level of dedication, the complete lack of any seating options for actors, heheh, that it was-that I was in the hands of a visionary director and master. I wanna thank Chris, and Emma, for having the faith in me for-for twenty years, and six feckin pictures! So, thanks so much. Um, one of the most beautiful and vulnerable things about being an actor is that you can’t do it on your own, really, and we had the most incredible ensemble cast in this movie, it was magic, and some of them are here today. Emily Blunt, Robert Downey Jr, Matt Damon, Gary Oldman, thank you for carrying me and holding me through this movie. Um, thank you to- thank you! Uh, thank you to Dara Langley, and everyone at Universal for believing in this movie from the very beginning. Uh, oh! To all my fellow nominees - if you’re Irish or not - you’re all legends, stunning work guys, I salute you. Um, to all my reps, all my team, uh thank you so much you’re the best. To my girlfriend, you are the light of my life, the love I couldn’t live without, thank you for always being there. To my family, I’m the luckiest man, I love you, thanks so much guys!”

Part 3: Top Ten

“Hello everyone and welcome back to the ATN News youtube channel! Today we are looking at our top ten favourite Cillian Murphy moments from the Golden Globes and spoiler alert: they all have something to do with his girlfriend because, let’s face it guys, they’re our favourite unproblematic power couple! Just a reminder that we did similar videos for some other celebrities so you can check them out on our channel but let’s get started!

Number 1: When they were walking into the hall and he held her purse for her! This is a personal favourite because I love someone who notices the little things, and the fact that he just kinda slipped it from her hands?? Cuteness overload.

Number 2: This one is my personal favourite. During the break, the camera was just kinda moseying around and it caught them whispering to each other and just laughing. Look at how lovey dovey they are, leaning against each other, just whispering in each other’s ears. I really wanna know what they’re saying because I’m sure they are the most hilarious people on earth, but it’s also so intimate that I don’t wanna disturb them, you know? And she’s holding his hand in her lap aaaa! I have to move on otherwise I’m just gonna sit here and watch this all day.

Number 3: Ok, at number three we have the couple’s red carpet glam moment! After getting some solo pictures taken, Cillian had Y/n walk the carpet with him and they slayed. I mean they slayyyyyed. Their outfits were amazing, their chemistry was amazing, their poses were amazing just- amazing. The fact that she did the little heel kick in one of the pictures?? Iconic. Cillian, Y/n, if you guys are looking for recommendations I would frame the picture where Y/n’s kissing the air just before Cillian’s cheek, it’s funny and it’s cute.

Number 4: This is a moment from an interview he gave where they asked him about life with Y/n, take a listen.

“You know she’s just the best. We both have our own strengths at home and I think they fit together so well and it just works perfectly. Like, I’m terrible at D.I.Y. Just absolutely hopeless, and good or not, she’s tenacious. If she starts a project for the house, no matter how hard, she will learn what to do and she will finish it. It’s inspiring honestly. Just every little thing she does inspires me.”

Number 5: Halfway through and this might also be my personal favourite (agh I can’t choose!). When Y/n fed Cillian something from her plate?? Guys, when I saw that, I kid you not I almost melted. She just gently taps his shoulder, lifts her fork to his mouth, and feeds him. Was he too nervous to eat?? Did she notice and make sure he ate something?? Or is that just something they do? Like if you walked into their house at a random dinner time she might just randomly feed him something?? Either way, it was cute and I bet they make everyone sick with their love and I’m here for it.

Number 6: Another simple one, but when he sat back with his arm over her chair? He just kinda leaned to the side and put his arm on the back of her chair and she just kinda shifted closer into his side- and they didn’t even stop their conversations with other people! They just did it! Being that intune with someone is just nghdhm. I have no words.

Number 7: Alright, so some fan pics came out after the event of the couple leaving the venue, and look at this, he’s carrying her shoes for her!!! The pictures are a little grainy, but you can clearly see him holding the heels that she was wearing during the event while they walk to the car. She’s even carrying his award for him, what a bunch of cutiepies!

Number 8: Another one from the fan pics - and another personal favourite (leave me alone) - is those cuties dancing on the street! I think it’s near their house and the pictures capture him twirling her, and they’re both laughing so much and then they’re hugging and Cillian’s just swaying her (all while holding that Golden Globe mind you) and they just look so happy and in love. Brb, I need something to tackle this overdose of cute.

Number 9: Our second last moment is when Y/n kissed Cillian right before he went up to accept his award! Just, the scream, the kiss, the lipstick on his face, all of it is so perfect. And the fact that he left it on his face while giving his speech? Our king, have no shame, proudly show her love!

Number 10: And of course, the final favourite has to be Cillian’s speech. He was funny, he was gracious, and honestly? It was perfect. If my boyfriend called me the light of his life in a room full of famous people, on a live broadcast that like millions of people are watching, I would probably just start proposing to him at that moment. Like he really said “the love I couldn’t live without” can you imagine that kind of devotion?! I want that.

Anyway! Thanks for watching our top ten Cillian Murphy moments. Don’t forget to like and subscribe!”

AN: Yes, I did transcribe his whole acceptance speech. No further questions.

#cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian x reader #cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x y/n #cillianmurphy #cillian #cillian fic #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x reader #oppenheimer #christopher nolan

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punksocks · 1 year

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Astrology Observations No. 8

*based on my personal experiences, take them with a grain of salt

-I wanted this to be my 18+ edition bc 8th house but I don’t have enough spicy observations yet lol

-Virgo placements & Scorpio placements having 100 invisible tests some has to pass before you let them get close to you

-Why yes my Jupiter is in my 3rd house. Why yes I did start recommending documentaries to documentary students because I watch that much educational content for fun.

-Cancer suns can beat out Leo suns for being the most charismatic one in the room and that’s coming from someone that loves Leo suns.

-Someone said to be a full time artist you either need the external structure of a rich sponsor/family with money/sugar daddy or the internal structure of being an earth sign and I love that lol (Idek how to explain how I got to the mad men zodiac roast where I saw that line lmao)

-Geminis lie but get so boldfaced they often contradict themselves a lot. And Cancers manipulate but often go so hard on it that it starts to become pretty obvious. Pisces can actually be the best at both, especially if they don’t have any earth placements, no energy to ground those illusions.

-Ok I’ve been googling birth charts to practice reading them (thank you for your dms I’ll reply soooon!) and I was surprised Robert j Oppenheimer (the guy that spearheaded making the atomic bomb) was a cancer moon because of all the destruction the bomb caused (and from the beginning they knew that was going to be a destructive endeavor) BUT Cancer’s are very nationalistic so I could see this being his rationale. Until all the violent consequences, of course. (Very specific but he may have been apart of the scientists that advocated for peace after the bomb dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki but I don’t know fs)

-Also a LOT of actors have aries moon and/or Leo mars (including aries moon for Cillian Murphy who’s playing Oppenheimer in that new movie, full circle connection)

-Virgo mars people can embody a certain gender fluidity. The women can dress in masculine clothing and carry a certain tinge of a masculine vibe and vice versa for feminine energy and virgo mars men. (Not sure if this applies to all mutable mars or not).

-Scorpio rising/pluto in the first house and wearing sunglasses on the streets just to avoid weird eye contact with strangers

-Saturn conjunction moon/Capricorn, Aquarius moon/Aquarius and/or Uranus 4th house - what was it like not having a childhood? (Gang, gang)

-*reads that Capricorn Mercury is straight forward*

Me with Capricorn Mercury rx:

#astro observations #astro notes #astroblr #aries moon #capricorn #capricorn mercury #uranus astrology #virgo mars #saturn #leo mars #Leo #cancer #scorpio #scorpio rising #pisces #gemini #Aquarius

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belphegorskiss · 9 months

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𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐄 𝐖 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𓆩♡𓆪

he’s excited. he heard about it months before and he’s been preparing himself for the release. he insisted that you accompany him to the mall to shop for all pink outfits together (forces you to match with him as well). when it’s finally release day, he all but explodes once you get to your seats. whispers in your ear the whole time at every single scene. bought the barbie cup too (it was sixty dollars).

venti, kaveh, lyney.

scoffed when he saw all the cutesy posters and flashy promotion. looked disgruntled at everyone’s enthusiasm. dragged his feet to the theater and begrudgingly went along since he knew you wanted to see it. he expects nothing when he’s there, but finds himself pleasantly surprised by the true depth of the movie. deeply enjoys it, but is too ashamed to admit how much he did.

xiao, wanderer, diluc.

thinks little to nothing of the movie when you tell him about it. assumes it’s supposed to be targeted towards little kids so he feels surprised when you’re so enthusiastic about going. when you both actually see the movie together, he feels surprised by all the adult jokes and themes in it. you even hear him giggle a bit. overall, he thought the movie was funny. he mostly enjoyed that it made you happy.

kaeya, ayato, childe, baizhu, heizou.

doesn’t know what a barbie is. the feminist themes fly over his head a bit. but he watches it with you and he likes the colors and the way it’s shot. he thinks some parts are funny. you’re happy, so he’s happy too.

razor, bennett, chongyun.

“i’d rather watch oppenheimer,” he says. his statement is quickly rescinded when he sees how furious you look. stares at his phone for most of the movie, looking bored. until the second half of the movie plays. he watches the monologue attentively, and decides to give it a chance. he actually enjoys it and thinks the feminist themes are very relevant. cried a little bit at the end when barbie spoke with barbara.

alhaitham, dainsleif.

goes in with an open mind, choosing not to make any assumptions and not even viewing the promotional material. he goes into the cinema with absolutely zero expectations and actually has a fun time with you. he mostly watches you during the movie, paying attention to your reactions, your laughter, and how your expression shifts during the more morose scenes. when it’s over, he asks you about every scene, discussing the whole thing with you. he just loves the way your eyes light up with excitement.

kazuha, thoma, albedo, xingqiu, pantalone, zhongli.

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queenshelby · 9 months

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Chemical Reactions (P. 8)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy as J Robert Oppenheimer x Student Reader

Warning: Lots of Dialogue, Age-Gap, Infidelity

Words: 1,670

Note: The fic is spoiler free and my own fantasy and imagination. It is not historically and scientifically accurate.

Previous Parts: 1; 2; 3; 4; 5; 6; 7

THIS PART IS DIALOGUE HEAVY AND PART EIGHT WILL BE SIMILAR, BOTH PARTS ARE NECESSARY THOUGH TO EXPAND THE STORY.

Two weeks later...

Two weeks had passed and, still, there had been no word from Robert. He had not contacted you and no one at the science faculty knew where he was. Haakon, too, had not heard from him and you certainly did not want to ask his wife Kitty about his whereabouts, no matter how worried you were when it came to his safety.

Over the past week, however, governmental security at Berkley had been ramped up and, in particular, Robert’s office as well as the two physics labs across the hallway from it, were guarded by army personnel.

No one was allowed to enter and, even though this impacted the research for your thesis, you did not dare to argue with these intimidating men, carrying guns and grimacing looks on their faces.

One man, in particular, stood out to you. He was tall, arrogant, and even more intimidating than the other. He was only there occasionally to check on how matters were progressing and it was this very same man who pulled you aside on a Friday afternoon and asked you to join him in Robert’s office.

“My name is General Lesley Groves” he introduced himself before gesturing for you to sit down on the chair across from Robert’s desk while he took a seat on Robert’s chair.

“Y/N Y/LN, pleasure to meet you” you said, attempting to shake his hand, but he would not allow it and gave you a stern look instead.

“I know who you are” he then said before placing a file with your name written atop of it on the desk, close enough for you to read the sentence “Security File” but far enough away from you for you not to reach it.

“Okay, so why am I here, in this room, with you, General Groves?” you asked nervously but politely, seeing how intimidating this man was for you.

“You are here because Dr J Robert Oppenheimer thinks very highly of you and I need to determine why” he told you sternly and hearing those words from the General came as a relief to you as, at least now, you knew that Robert was thinking of you.

“It’s about his project then, isn’t it?” you asked, wanting get some more information from this intimidating man who, unbeknownst to you at this point, was not going to give anything away.

“The project?” he thus asked, furrowing his eyebrows. “Now tell me, Miss Y/LN, what did Dr Oppenheimer tell you about the project?” he then wanted to know why giving you another intimidating look over.

“Nothing much. He just said that he would like me to join his team and that it would be a good career opportunity” you lied, causing the General to furrow his eyebrows again, this time more evidently than before.

“Well, he actually asked for two of his students to join this highly secretive government operation and, in both instances, security clearance was denied” the General pointed out, causing your heart to sink. You expected this to be the case since, after all, your parents were well known communists and, yet, you had been somewhat hopeful for a miracle.

“Now, with respect to the other student, my staff’s decision to deny him clearance was accepted by Dr Oppenheimer. There was no issue whatsoever. With you, however, Dr Oppenheimer held firm to his belief that your involvement in the project is vital. With your status as an undergrad student however, I cannot, for the life of me, understand why your involvement is so important to a man of Dr Oppenheimer’s intelligence. So, perhaps, you can shed some light into his reasons me?” the General then asked you in the most intimidating manner and you really did not know what to say and how to answer him.

“Did you ask him about his reasons?” you thus asked without receiving any sort of reaction from General Groves. “Because, if not, I suggest that you do that rather than interrogate me. Now would you excuse me” you then told him while standing up. You were ready to leave and, since the General did nothing but stare at you for the past two minutes, you were frustrated by the situation. You knew that there was nothing you could do about the army’s decision to deny your security clearance and, thus, simply wanted to put this matter to rest.

The General, however, would not allow you to go just yet and ordered you to sit down, which was a request with which you reluctantly complied.

“I asked Dr Oppenheimer about his reasons and he seems to think that your approach to quantum physics is innovative and new. You are an A grade student and your work at Harvard was exceptional and so is your work at Berkley, which is why I am considering his request to review your security clearance rejection which, was actioned by one of my senior staff members last week” Lesley Groves explained and you thought that, perhaps, there was still a chance for you to get on to the project.

“What do you want to know?” you thus asked while leaning forward and pressing your hands together nervously, fidgeting and sweating all at the same time.

“I want to know about your communist associations” General Groves then requested and you chuckled.

“I am not a communist and I have cut ties with everyone who is a party member so, really, there are is no association” you told him with quite some confidence in your voice and, the truth was, that you had nothing to hide.

“Your father was recently arrested for suspected treason. What do you have to say about that?” the General then went on to ask while taking some notes and, again, you managed to answer him confidently.

“Suspected, yes, but I doubt that he actually committed an offence. He is not that stupid. In any event, I have not spoken to him in over a year so I my thoughts on this matter are neutral” you explained as you had no intel on your father’s party involvement these days.

“Are you a communist party member?” Lesley Groves then asked which, again, earned him a chuckle.

“You already know that I am not and never was, myself, a party member. I am sure that information is in your file” you informed him and, for a moment, he chuckled himself. He knew that you were right. This information was, indeed, in his file and, yet, he asked you about it nonetheless.

“What is your relationship to J Robert Oppenheimer?” was the next question he asked and this question caused you to lie.

“He is my professor and thesis supervisor” you told him which, of course, was the truth.

“Is that all he is to you?” the General then wanted to know and you nodded.

“Yes” you lied, which is when the General retrieved two letters from your security file.

“Would you like to reconsider your answer?” he then asked as he handed you the letters which, clearly, he had already opened and read.

“What is this?” you asked before puling them apart and commencing to read them slowly while General Groves remained silent, giving you some time to digest the content of them which, to your surprise, was largely romantic in nature.

Both letters were from Robert and included poems as well as accounts of your sexual encounter. The letters were explicit in nature but also highly passionate which was something that surprised you. He clearly missed you and he most certainly had already developed strong feelings for you, using phrases like “my love” and talking of your future together which, in your mind, did not even exist.

“Oh my god, did you read these?” you eventually asked with blushing cheeks, seeing how personal these letters were.

“Yes, I did” the General answered you bluntly and you broke out in anger.

“These letters are personal. You had no right” you began to say angrily which is when General Groves interrupted you.

“This is a national emergency Miss Y/LN. We are at war with Germany and I am here to ensure that a project like the one being implemented right now isn’t subject to treason. The last thing this country needs is information being leaked to the enemy” he told you with a voice stern and authoritive.

“You mean the allies” you chuckled, causing the General to give you a look of confusion.

“What?” he asked and you ought to clarify.

“Your concern is that someone like myself would leak information to the soviet-union. This is why you are doing all this, is it not?” you asked while rolling your eye in disbelieve.

“Perhaps. So, let me ask you again, what is your relationship with J Robert Oppenheimer?” the General then repeated and you answered him again, this time more truthfully than before.

“I am his student. He is my professor and thesis supervisor. We had sexual relations once” you admitted while crossing your arms. “Now are you satisfied?” you asked and, indeed, he was.

“Yes, I am. I am satisfied that my colleague has made the right decision to deny your security clearance” General Groves announced and your heart dropped. “You can keep the letters, noting that I have asked Dr Oppenheimer to refrain from contacting you again. No doubt you will be attending his lecture at Berkley next week, which will be his last, following his resignation as professor at this facility. But other than that, I expect there to be no further contact moving forward. Do you understand?” Lesley Groves then asked and, whilst you tried hard to hold back your tears, you could not and stood abruptly before barging towards the door, thereby ignoring his question.

“Miss Y/LN, I would suggest that you choose your intimate partners more wisely moving forward. The rejection of your security clearance will be noted on record, thus impacting future employment opportunities” the General then said as you had already turned your back to him and this, itself, hurt even more, knowing that you would now struggle finding employment in the field you were so passionate about.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy imagine #Oppenheimer #oppenheimer x reader #j robert oppenheimer x reader #j robert oppenheimer #oppenheimer x y/n #oppenheimer x you #j robert oppenheimer x you #lesley graves #manhatten project #robert oppenheimer #lesley groves

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astromechs · 9 months

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ok, i did barbenheimer, so here are some assorted thoughts about both films (i am discussing potential "spoilers" for both, so look away if you don't want these):

on paper, and in experience, this is the wildest double feature to do. barbie and oppenheimer could not be two more different films, in terms of tone, aesthetic, and themes; on the one hand, you have a treatise on feminism in the guise of one of the most widely known decades-old ip, and on the other, you have a complicated biopic about the complicated figure who developed the atomic bomb.

and yet, there is a heart and soul linking these two films, and i actually think seeing them in the double feature makes them work: it's care and craftsmanship. these are two films made by people who actually care about cinema as an artform, and it's such a breath of fresh air compared to a lot of the dreck we've been getting out of major studios and wide releases, especially over the past decade.

barbie is not an independent film; you guys are silly, and you need to get that out of your heads. mattell's name is literally on it lol BUT. what this story turns out to be is something pretty unique in terms of today's cinematic landscape. it's a thoughtful treatise on feminism and gender roles on all sides of the equation — the unrealistic expectations put on women, the emptiness that drives men into upholding patriarchy, the absolute absurdity it is on all counts to let ourselves be consumed by this instead of getting to be ourselves and figure out who we actually are. loved every second of it.

also: "i lost interest in patriarchy when i learned it wasn't about horses", like, line of the year.

oppenheimer manages to distinguish itself from the sludge of oscar bait biopics, because, well, because of the craftsmanship of christopher nolan, but also because, in particular, it has such strong thematic focus. it is both a story about oppenheimer, the complicated figure who unleashed something terrible on the world, and the story of the plight of the scientist; just because you can do something, does it mean you should? when you put a dangerous tool into someone else's hands, is it their hands who have the responsibility for how it's used, or is it you, for creating it in the first place?

these are questions that i think the film wrestles with very adeptly, and it doesn't provide easy answers — because there are none. oppenheimer himself spent the remainder of his life wrestling with his own complicated legacy, and the film really captures the spirit of that. the final shot really makes that stick.

both of these films had clear vision for what they wanted to say, clear care and craftsmanship involved, and as someone who genuinely loves cinema and has felt so disheartened seeing shit upon shit being flung into theaters in wide release, i deeply appreciate both of these films, and i don't regret the experience of doing the double feature, because it was really something special — even if, whew, i'm going to need about five business days to process all of this.

#barbenheimer #barbie #oppenheimer #anyway i loved both of them

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eu-nicola · 9 months

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Cillian Murphy as J Robert Oppenheimer x Student Reader

summary: you had met the man your friend was with but you certainly liked him too

warnings: Age-Gap / Infidelity

sorry english isn’t my first language

You met him through one of your best friends, that day you were both in a meeting where he was also present, at first he didn’t call your attention and you didn’t even call his attention since at the end of that night your friend Jean was already sleeping with him. You weren’t interested in him at all and when she told you that she would keep you left the place and headed home.

Although you were a few years younger, in the same way, your intelligence and the curiosity that you felt for things that had not yet been discovered was what made you stand out, you loved to know and investigate, you had always been a curious person and there was nothing better than being the first and that made you work twice as hard, perhaps triple, to always discover new things. After that night you met Oppenheimer you began to spend more time with him sharing your theories and his.

It was interesting for him to see how you worried about things and how you saw what others didn’t, but apart from that nothing happened, sometimes you saw him go to Jean’s house to bring her flowers which she rejected asking him not to look for her more but actually she called him hoping he wouldn’t answer but as always he did. She was your friend but you knew the dependency she was creating for that man was as if she couldn’t breathe and needed him anyway but she wanted him to be there.

When Oppenheimer found out that he was going to be a father with another woman he was the first to tell Jean so that she would not find out from anyone else, at that moment they decided that despite this they would not separate but now she was so broken inside knowing that now he would get married that she didn’t know how to deal with it and was only left with the fact that at least she had him in some way.

During all that time you continued sharing your time with him and they even came to the conclusion of some things after testing the theories they shared, their minds worked as one and from there things came out that no one in this world could understand, only God.

Sometimes the line of professionalism seemed to disappear between both when you shared fleeting caresses or when he was so close to you that you could feel his breath on your skin, although there was a certain voice in your head that used to advise you, you didn’t listen to it and you liked this closeness that you had with him, feeling him close felt good and you wanted to experience more of this.

A month before his wife’s delivery you found out that he had told Jean that they were not coming back and that made you spend days with your friend until she recovered a bit, those days you had not seen Robert nor had you warned why you didn’t go, a week later when you came back you found out that all this time he had been calling you but since you weren’t at home you hadn’t been able to answer at any time. You’re glad to know that he cares about you even if he was strictly professional.

Now that Jean was not with him he seemed closer to you and it didn’t bother you, but that doesn’t mean that you felt good about what you were doing, you knew that you loved this man because of the way you connected but didn’t you knew if you should move on and get more from him or just stay where you were and accept the fact that you only worked together.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #oppenheimer #j robert oppenheimer #j robert oppenheimer x reader #oppenheimer x reader #oneshot #fanfic #fanfiction

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w1ldthoughts · 7 months

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There’s No Crying In Football

A/n: My first 5+1 fic!

Synopsis: Five times you cried out of immense love and the one time someone else did.

One

“It’s really not that bad. It’s just—”

“I swear if you quote Monty Python again, you’ll be down two fingernails. Let me see it.” You gestured for him to come closer so you could inspect the damage, like you’d suddenly gotten your medical license in the last few hours.

“See? It looked so much worse than it actually is, I’m fine.” Justin tries to reassure you but you were too focused on the tears swimming in your eyes to notice.

Of course in the years you’d been together he had taken hits much worse than this, but for some reason today felt like a gut punch and the tears just continued to flow.

“Come here,” he whispered, running his non-injured hand along your back as you sobbed pitifully into his chest.

“I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I’m crying,” you huff out with a sniffle. He lets out a soft chuckle, telling you not to apologize.

“Would it make you feel better if we just ordered dinner and watch Love is Blind to start off bye-week?”

You nod and tilt your head up to give him a quick peck on the lips.

Two

Two weeks later you were on the couch watching Netflix with Nova at your feet. She’d rarely left your side the last few days which was both sweet and concerning, given the fact that she was usually glued to Justin. You were simply minding your business one minute and the next minute you were crying watching the women argue on Selling Sunset.

“What is wrong with me?” You wondered out loud, trying to get ahold of yourself. Maybe your period was on its way, it usually did make you a little bit more emotional, but usually not emotional enough to cry over petty drama at the Oppenheim Group.

The Clue app on your phone was sure to have the answers you were looking for but when you pulled up the calendar, your heart was beating in your ass.

Your period was six days late.

As fast as you possibly could, you placed an order to be delivered to the house. The last thing you needed right now was to go online and find see headlines saying that Justin Herbert’s wife was spotted at CVS with pregnancy tests in hand. Probably not the best look.

Justin came home an hour later and immediately headed upstairs to look for you.

“Babe?” He knocked. “Since when do you lock the door?” His voice was even but you could tell he was a little perturbed by it.

You wiped your eyes and stood up to let him in.

“What’s going on? Why are you crying? What’s—oh. Are these…” You nodded shakily, your legs suddenly feeling heavy.

“Have you taken them already?”

“No. I was going to but it felt wrong doing this without you. I know you said you wanted to try for a baby but we had a plan and it’s too soon. I mean it’s literally the beginning of the season so that would mean they’d be born around—”

Justin places a warm hand on your shoulder. “Breathe. We’ll figure it out. There’s no one else in the world I want to do this with and yes we had plans but those can change. And if those tests are positive, I’m ready to do this…so long as you are too.”

He let you do your thing and came back in with the timer set on his phone.

Pregnant. All five tests had the same result.

“Well, I guess that explains the crying.” You joked as he kissed you on the side of the head.

“We’re gonna be parents.”

Three

Hosting Thanksgiving at your house while your husband was in the middle of the season had to be top five most stressful things you’ve ever done. Besides the fact that no one but Justin and the two of you had gone through great lengths to keep it that way. You’d secretly ordered all virgin cocktails at the WAGs brunch last week and had been living in Justin’s T-shirts that were the perfect oversized look.

“Can you see anything? Do I look…you know?”

“Pregnant?” He utters with a laugh, “no, you look great. Nothing’s gonna ruin the surprise.”

Your family and the Herberts arrived about an hour later and dinner was served. The thought of having a baby of your own at the table this time next year was both a daunting task and an exciting one.

It was a family tradition to take a group picture at the end of the night so everyone got in front of the camera in their respective poses. You and Justin shared a look just before the flash went off and yelled “everyone say y/n’s pregnant” which silenced the room.

“Wait…are you two being serious? You’re really pregnant?” Holly asks, looking like she’s going to burst with excitement at any moment. She glances back and forth between you and her son, anxiously waiting for a sign of confirmation. Justin simply nodded and both of your moms pulled you in for a hug and immediately let you know that they couldn’t wait to babysit.

After two slices of pumpkin pie, you were ready to call it a night, until you walked into the den and heard Mark talking to Justin.

“I’m so happy for you son. Haven’t seen you this excited since you met her. And I know I don’t even have to tell you this but being a father is going to be one of the biggest and best adventures of your life. You’re going to be great at it. I love you, kiddo. So proud of the man you’ve become.”

“I love you too, dad.”

The crack in his voice may or may not have brought you to tears.

Four

“I have a surprise for you.” Justin beams at you as soon as he spots you walking down the stairs after your nap.

He led you down to sit on the couch and told you to close your eyes.

You ran a hand up and down your bump, a new source of comfort. “Hurry up J, the anticipation is killing me.”

His laugh sent butterflies to your stomach even after all this time. “Okay, you can open your eyes.”

“Are those…baby Air Force Ones? This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” You cried. “They’re so tiny in your big ass hands I can’t take it!”

“I’m glad you like them, I thought they were adorable so I ordered them as soon as I could. And judging by your reaction I’m glad to know you like them too.” He chuckles. “Very surprised you’re not dehydrated at this point. How are you feeling today? Did you have a good nap?”

You could tell the busy schedule of the season was making him feel bad about leaving you on your own the farther along you got in your pregnancy. “Physically I’m fine but emotionally? I feel like I’m in a glass case of emotion.”

You knew he’d like that one. He threw his head back with a small laugh and gave you a celebratory fist bump. “God you are the love of my life. Perfect quote usage.”

You took a bow, stating “thank you, thank you very much.”

“You’re a dork.” He deadpanned, although you both knew he very much loved it.

Five

The final countdown had officially been on since you hit 36 weeks. But with your due date a week away, things were getting very real, very quickly. Luckily for you, Justin was the most prepared person in the world and had been gearing up for this moment since the very beginning it seemed.

“Let’s just go over the list one more time.”

Car seat installed and ready to go? Check.

Clothes for you and him? Check.

Extra phone chargers? Check.

Snacks? Check.

Pillows, birth-plan, toiletries? Check.

Postpartum care products? Check.

He looked so perfect just going over everything again and again, making sure that all of the newborn clothes were washed and there was an ample amount of diapers and wipes and that everything was in order.

“I think you’ve covered all your bases, don’t you think?” You wrapped your arms around his waist and hugged him from the back, feeling his body start to relax into your touch.

“Just wanna make sure we have everything you need. That you have everything you need. I know I can’t control what happens in there and when she’s born but I sure as hell can control this part.” He turned around in your arms and placed a kiss on your forehead and then your lips.

There was truly no better feeling than this, being loved by your best friend. “I was going to wait until she was born to give this to you but, I’m thinking now is the perfect time.” Justin raised his eyebrows when you reached over the back of the bookshelf and pulled out a wrapped book. It was a book telling their baby the story of how he become the beloved king of Bolt Nation. A bright eyed kid from Oregon who grew up cheering for the team that he would eventually lead into battle every week. The same man who’s heart now belonged to a little girl he had yet to meet.

His eyes welled up with tears when he finished the last page. “How did you—when did you even have time to do this?”

“I have my ways. You deserve something special too and now our daughter will know just how special her daddy is, to so many people. But especially to the people in this home. We’re so lucky to have you, Justin. So unbelievably lucky.”

“Although I appreciate you saying that, I’m the lucky one. I love you so much.”

Now it was your turn to wipe your tears. “I love you more. You know I’d do anything for you, like not get on Twitter and tell Emmanuel Acho what I really think of him.”

Exhaustion was all the two of you knew. It was like everyday was a constant cycle of changing diapers, dealing with spit up, or feeding your baby. But you couldn’t be happier. Your husband had of course adjusted seamlessly to fatherhood, celebrating the fact that it was the off-season and he could spend as much time at home as he wanted to. Which was lucky because neither of you had been getting much sleep and he couldn’t imagine playing football while running on fumes.

A high-pitched cry jolted you out of your REM cycle and your feet lead you to your baby’s room without your conscious effort. Reaching in to pick her up immediately had her suckling on your shirt, letting you know exactly what she wanted. She really was the perfect mix between the two of you but her almond-like light green eyes were all Justin.

Once she was done nursing and her diaper was checked, you headed back out of the room, meeting Justin in the hallway.

“What are you doing out of bed?”

He tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes but was pretty sure he’d be tired for the next full calendar year. “I heard you get up and I wanted to make sure you guys were okay. My precious girl is in there.”

“You know I used to be your ‘precious girl’,” you reminded him with an eye roll.

“Yes and you’re still up there, champ. Standing firmly at the number two spot.”

God if that wasn’t the cutest thing you’d ever heard, you would’ve smacked the smirk off his face. “This is the thanks I get for birthing your gigantic baby? You sure know how to make a girl feel special.”

“You are the most special babe. Thanks for giving me a baby.” He grabbed your hand and walked with you back to the room, cuddling you back to sleep.

Two hours later, that familiar sound woke you up again. But this time you weren’t moving.

“You better go Justin, your baby’s crying.”

“Haha very funny,” he mused, standing up to stretch. “I’ll grab her and bring her in here, can’t have my girls fighting over me. And hey, at least you’re not the one crying anymore.”

#Justin Herbert #justin herbert imagine #justin herbert x reader #nfl imagine #justin herbert fanfic

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infinitegalahad · 9 months

Text

AMERICAN PROMETHEUS AND HIS ATHENA - CHAPTER 4

Pairing: J. Robert Oppenheimer x Female Indentifying! Reader

Summary: The implication was subtle, yet the weight was felt. Your shoulder tensed as you pursed your lips, dropping your plate into the sink. You knew, and so did Robert. It was blatant.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Sorta poorly written smut (i'm a virgin guys it's very obvious my expiernece is well..smut) and praise kink and a slight virginity/purity kink.

Notes: Hardest part of posting this? The writing, naw. Finding the perfect hot gif of the father of the atomic bomb? Yah! Oh boy...folks, it's here! Baby's first actual smut. I know I sound like a broken record, but seriously y;all, your support is absolutely amazing thank you so much for it! You keep me not just writing, but happy and afloat. Today has been nuts, so I was glad I could get this out. It's my first smut, so sorry if it's not good. This is the last part of the first part of the series, Ch.5 will move more into Los Almos, the bomb, and Kitty and Jean. Trouble will start brewing in paradise, the drama is en route! As you can tell, cliffhangers are my kind of thing #imunwell

Taglist: @forgottenpeakywriter @queenshelby @kodzuvk

Taglist | Masterlist

Dinner is a mostly silent affair.

Minus the clattering of cutlery and soft puffs of cigarette smoke, you and Robert are silent. You notice the furtive gazes from Robert that scan your body. Crossing your legs and crumpling your napkin in your lap, you hope not to be noticed yet, at the same time, be noticed since the attention makes you feel aroused.

You take up your plate, and as you are about to wash it, you feel that Robert is going to speak, which he does.

“Your gift is upstairs in the bedroom if you wish to want it.”

The implication was subtle, yet the weight was felt. Your shoulder tensed as you pursed your lips, dropping your plate into the sink.

You knew, and so did he. It was blatant.

Once you finish washing your hands, you walk by Robert, refusing to look down at him. You want to look, but the heavy sensation in your lower area skips whenever you see him. You can feel his intense stare on your back as you walk by.

“I’ll be in the living room,” He says as if it’s a reminder.

You stop by the kitchen door and turn to look back, but you resist the burning desire.

The house is small enough to navigate, and you find yourself in Robert’s bedroom. It’s mundane and straightforward; a bed, a nightstand with books, and an ashtray, a dresser with cigarette boxes. Minus these menial things, there’s the pink satin bag from earlier on the edge of his bed. You walk over and sit down, grabbing the bag and taking out the paper.

It revealed a box, in which, in your arousal, you nearly tore up. Once you placed the box and bag down on the ground, you gently removed the surprise; lingerie.

It wasn’t really a surprise, but you pretended it to be such for the anticipation of it. The material is silk, and you make sure to be extremely careful with the material. The Lingerie is a satin navy two piece; a a sheer bralettle that would define your nipples and lacey knickers that could looked like they would barley cover your bum. Your thumb plays with the soft satin as your face goes red, knowing what will come between you and Robert.

Sliding into the soft material, you check yourself out in the material. It’s the most skin you have ever shown to a man. The shorts cling to your thighs, and the bralette accentuates your nipples. A close look and your privates were revealed, covered by a sheer sheet of satin. You loosen your hair and fluff in, anxiously rubbing your hands together; you didn’t want to keep for long, knowing that Robert was just as aroused as you were.

You slowly ascend down the stairs to the living room, illuminated by a fire that Robert lit while you were changing. A mesmerizing dance of flickering flames unfolds within the fireplace, casting a warm, comforting glow that envelops the room. You spot Robert on the couch, and he is reading the preface to one of the Greek myths you picked out in Sausalito.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, you step into the living room, the captivating ambiance of the dancing flames drawing you in like a moth to a gentle fire. The soft light casts an enchanting aura, accentuating the delicate features of the room and adding a touch of mystique to the moment. Your gaze finds Robert seated on the couch, engrossed on the preface of the Greek myth you had chosen in Sausalito. The flicker of firelight dances across his features, casting intriguing shadows that play upon his countenance.

As you take a cautious step forward, the sound of a closing book reaches your ears, causing a shiver to traverse your spine. The air feels charged with palpable energy as you wrap your arms around yourself, an instinctual gesture that adds to the allure of the scene you're entering.

Your steps are slow, deliberate, every movement conveying a mix of vulnerability and intent. Each footfall on the soft carpet is a rhythm that mirrors the steady beat of your heart, a drumroll leading up to the moment of connection. The distance between you and Robert seems to dissolve, leaving only the sensation of his magnetic pull.

As you draw nearer, the firelight and shadows play upon your form, casting alluring patterns upon your skin. His gaze roams your body, a smoldering intensity that ignites a spark of longing within you. The anticipation becomes a tangible force, binding you both in a shared unspoken understanding. The room seems to hold its breath, the air thick with a mixture of desire and the timeless allure of the moment.

Robert's attention is drawn away from the pages as he puts out his cigarette, acknowledging your presence with a glance that sends a ripple of warmth through your veins. His gaze meets yours, and the intensity within his eyes is like a current that pulls you closer, your heart pounding in response. The weight of his gaze is electrifying, and for a brief moment, he seems to hold his breath in awe, sharing the same desire that lingers in the air.

"My beauty," Robert breathed, his gaze tracing the contours of your form with an intensity that sends a flutter through your chest. His voice, a velvety timbre that seems to wrap around the very atmosphere, spills forth in a cascade of words that hold the power to mesmerize.

With a tender touch that speaks volumes, he gently removes your arms and puts them by your side, presenting your nearly nude body to him. His fingers envelop your skin in a caress that ignites a spark of warmth. As he holds your arms, his touch is both a physical reassurance and a silent proclamation of his admiration.

"Your presence is just as I imagined," he continues, his voice a whispered promise that hangs in the air, "it's like a beacon that draws me in. Raw beauty in his most natural form."

His grasp tightens, in which you bite your lip too. Your hand rest on his chest, unable to form coherent thoughts, lost within a hazy gaze of arousal.

“Oppie,” is all you manage with a soft breath equivalent to a moan, feeling like you could sink into his hold.

Robert holds you and guides you to the couch. Your hand remains in his as he picks up one of the myths to examine it.

“I began to read the preface of Hades and Persephone. I understand this one you were highly fond of,” Robert pronounced as he looked at you. For a brief second, his eyes once again captured your body, and he looked at you like you were an angel.

“Would you like to read this one?”

Gently smacking your lips together, you nod your head, “Yes. Quite frankly, I think it would best suit the current mood.”

Subtle communication is a form of love between you. Only you two can understand it. Despite its actual meaning not being viral, it echoes within the room between you two.

Something flickers in Robert’s eyes as he sits down on the couch, bringing you to sit on his lap. Curling up on his side as you rest on his thigh, you grab the book as he snakes his hands around your stomach. He takes a long breath and throws back his head, savoring your smooth skin. The side of your thigh feels something move within his pelvic part. You were not experienced, but you knew that was an erection. The sheer thought of his made you both nervous and excited. It had hit you that this was no longer a fantasy; it was very much indeed a reality.

You clear your throat and open the book, trying to distract from Robert’s not-so-private erection bumping into the outer part of your thigh. Robert lets out a long sigh and leans forward, his chin resting on your shoulder with his nose in your hair. As he sniffs your perfume, his hands draw those mindless patterns into your stomach, making you slightly shift your feet in excitement.

“Read to me,” He purred into your hair.

Biting your lip to contain a noise you were embarrassed to make, you open the book and begin reading with a slight stutter.

“It was a beautiful day like all the others in this land, the sun shone brightly in the sky, the hills were lush and green, and flowers blossomed from the earth. The lovely young maiden, Persephone, frolicked with her friends upon the hillside, as her mother Demeter sat near by, and her father Zeus peered down from the sky above. Laughter could be heard in between the young girls' whispered secrets, as they gathered handfuls of purple crocuses, royal blue irises and sweet-smelling hyacinths. Persephone thought to bring some to her mother, but was soon distracted by a vision of the most enchanting flower she had ever seen. It was a narcissus, the exact flower her father hoped that she would find. As she reached down to pluck it from its resting place, her feet began to tremble and the earth was split in two. Life for Persephone would never be the same again.”

Robert’s breath hitches against your ear. With one hand you hold the book and the other resting onto of Roberts, stroking his palm.

“From this gaping crevice in the ground emerged the awe-inspiring God of the Underworld, Hades, and before Persephone could even think to utter a word, she was whisked off her feet onto the God's golden chariot. As the crack of the whip upon his majestic horses brought her to her senses, she realized she was about to taken into the black depths from which he'd come. The thought of this brought terror to her heart, yet any screams of protest were soon lost within the darkness, as they descended quickly into the Underworld below.

“While Persephone's cries could not be heard above the ground, the pain in Demeter's heart quickly alerted her to the fact that something was terribly wrong. She searched high and low for her dear daughter, who had vanished from both the heavens and the earth. Consumed by depression over the loss of her child, she soon ceased to remember her worldly duties as Goddess of Grain and Growth. As she watched the plants wither and die all around her, she felt her own hopes begin to fade as well. At the same time, deep down in the realm of the dead, Hades hoped to explain his actions to the sweet Persephone. Professing his love, he told her of the plan her father helped deploy and begged her to stay and be his wife. Yet, Persephone longed for something more, the comforts of her mother's home and a view of the lush green grass and blue sky up above.”

Reading these words, a realization hits you. Something about this myth resonates not just with you, but with Robert. Hades and Persephone are death and regenration embodided. Is that what you and Robert are; death and life drawn together in your ever chaning world. The gifts, the flowers, the poemnegrates, the sweet nicknames, it was all to drag you in. At first you couldn’t bare accept. But now? You didn’t know if you agreed with your past self.

“Yet it didn't take long for Demeter's happiness to be replaced with rage, as she recalled the disappearance of her daughter. She flew to the home of Zeus and demanded that Persephone be found at once. She also questioned every immortal she could find and eventually uncovered Zeus' plot. In an attempt to appease Demeter's growing anger, he dispatched a messenger to retrieve their daughter from the depths.”

“Upon his entry to the Underworld, the messenger Hermes was amazed at what he found. Instead of finding a frail and fearful Persephone, he found a radiant and striking Queen of the Dead. She had adjusted well to her new position, saying she had even found her calling. The Goddess was now in charge of greeting the new arrivals and helping them adapt to their new life. While she wished to see her mother up above, she was torn by her desire to remain Hades' wife.”

Your past thoughts and sudden releevations were proven by the text. Your breath shudders as you feel one of Robert’s hand inch up your chest, similar to last time. Instead of siquriming, you sink within his hold. Your hand topples his as you guide him to your breast, letting his hand protrude on your linergie to gently caress and grasp your breast.

A moan escpaesd your lips as you lean back, feeling Robert squeeze your nipples. He calms his touch as he resorts to stroking the edge of your breast, letting you continue to the climax of the myth.

“Hoping to comfort Persephone in her confusion, Hades came to his Queen's side. He gently kissed her forehead and urged her, "Do not fret, eat instead from this fruit I know you will like." As she pressed the red pomegranate seeds to her lips, she listened to his words. He told her he would miss her very much, but her duties as a daughter mattered too. So, she climbed into the chariot and bid her husband farewell, as Hermes sped them off to the middle realm of mother earth, the home of her devoted mother.

You saw the last two paragraphs of the myth, also seeing Robert’s hand make it’s way down your stomach to your short. Your hand guides him slowly and gently to your womanhood.

“The flowers sang joyfully of her return, while her mother beamed with pride. Yet, the child that she had born and raised had changed while she was gone. She had grown into a goddess, one both beautiful and wise and the more that Demeter inquired about her experiences below, the more she came to worry that the life they knew was gone. She recalled a declaration Zeus had made from the heavens up above: in order for Persephone to return to the home and life she had known, the young goddess must be as pure as the day she left her mother's side. However, the ruby stain upon her lips spoke of the beauty's fate. Persephone had tasted of the fruit of life. It could not be erased.”

Robert buries his nose into your shoulder with his hand stopping at the edge of your pants. He hesitates, afraid to hurt you. But you know, and feel, that Robert would never do such a thing. You push his hand towards the waistband on your knickers, sliding Robert’s hand down your knickers and towards a place that no man was ever touched until now.

“Even so, Zeus loved his daughter too much to send her back to Hades without the hope of returning to her mother's abode above. So, each spring Persephone comes back with the flowers that pave her way, to tell the story of rebirth, hope and harmony. And each fall when she leaves again for the Underworld below, her mother mourns and winter comes, while she waits for her return. Yet, for Persephone there is no remorse. She looks forward to the time she spends as Hades' Queen and wife, and to guiding those who have lost their way to the next phase of their life.”

You let out a sigh and threw the book down. It blocked your view of Robert’s hand down your navy knickers. You hold his arm and go red, goosebumps hovering over your skin with his electric touch.

“Y/n, sweetling,” Robert coles into your ear. His fingers are like a ghost, hovering over the curls of your rapidly moistening vulva, waiting for your approval, “Speak to me. Tell me.”

“Robert,” You arch your head back to plant a peck on his forehead, “Please.”

“It will hurt since it’s your first. If it does, please tell me,” Robert, in his most vulnerable state, begs you.

You hum and bring your foreheads together, giving him the green light. “If it hurts, I rather it is with you, Robert. I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else.”

Your words made Robert choke on his breath as his hand traveled his way through your curls, finding your vulva. He circles the area around your finger, seeing you stretch back, digging a hand into the side of his salt and pepper hair. Placing a kiss on your cheek, his finger enters your clitoris.

Letting out a curse, you arch your back like a cat as you let out a noise you wouldn’t want anyone to hear but Robert.

“You’re so tight,” Robert says into your hair. His finger moves around, causing the nerves from your vaginal wall to give goosebumps of joy. He smirks as his hand on your stomach brings you back closer to him. “You kept it all for me to unwrap. How sweet of you.

“More,” You breath as you softly grind his thigh.

He hums and asks, “More?”

“More, please. Pretty please.”

Your beg makes him chuckle as you feel another finger circling around your clitoris.

“Another? Are you sure?”

Another shockwave rides up your body, making you rapidly nod your head. The second finger circles your hole, but Robert doesn’t insert it yet.

“Words, sweetling.”

“Yes, yes, please. Pleas-”

As the second finger enters your clitoris, you gasp and scrunch your toes and fingers, the ecstasy running through your veins.

“Oppie,” You moan his name, which makes his erection move below you. He fingered you for the next few minutes, a gentle rhythm dancing inside you. It hurts initially, but the pain subsides as Robert’s fingers mold to your insides. A creamy substance leaks from your vagina, covering Roberts’ and. He eventually removes his pale hand covered by a pale substance. You take his hand and bring it to your face, admiring what is your reaction for your desire and love for Robert.

“Can I?” You turn to Robert, looking at his cum over his fingers.

Robert’s breath hitches and he nods and leans back. He watches you suck on his finger, licking and inhaling the cum. He strokes your hair and leans back, soaking in the experience. Once you finish, he grabs your chin to admire you. Your faces and bodies are illuminated by the fire, which shows both of your burning desires for one another.

“You are a beautiful creature, y/n,” He confesses, wiping a bit of cum from your lip, dragging your lip down.

“You’re handsome,” You reply to his compliment by giving one to him. Your hand goes to the collar of his shirt, signaling for him to undress so you can truly get down to business.

The two of you help undress each other. As carefully as you put on the bralette and shorts, Robert slides them off and throws them onto the loveseat. You, too, help him undress; helping unbutton his shirt and unbuckle his belt. He slides down his pants and underwear, revealing his throbbing erection. It was a suprie to you, for such a slender spectre-looking man, his cock was large; fluids running down the tip. He’s got a faint trail of hair that goes up to his stomach, which makes your womanhood feel like a lush paradise.

Robert moves you in front of the far, far enough not to get burned but close enough to be warmed. He handles you with the delicacy of a china doll, resting your body on the carpet. Your arms fall behind you as his hand grabs one of yours, with the other resting on the indent of your waist. Robert climbs onto of you, sitting ontop of your area as he admires your body, a soft and genuine smile on his lips.

“Look at you,” He said in awe, “You are more beautiful than in my dreams. I knew you would be. Your simply perfect.”

“There is no true perfect person, Robert.” You blush and softly giggle.

“I’m afraid that is a lie, y/n. You are.”

His erect cock rest on the inner part of your thigh, edging towards your vagina.

“Are you sure you want this?” Robert asks, his tone still loving but also serious. For the first time this night, he looks hesitant. Scared, even, “Are you sure you want this to be with someone such as me?”

To soothe Robert’s nerves, you bring a hand to cup the side of his cheek. It’s a small physical touch that you known drives Robert mad. He sighs and leans into your touch, closing his eyes as he basks in your sweet touch.

“Of course, Robert. I want it to be you. I’ve wondered for so long of who it would be to do this. And Robert, well, it’s you. It’s always been you. I knew it when I first saw you. And now I want it more then ever. So Robert please, be the one to take me.” You gently confess.

He opens his eyes and covers your hand on his cheek.

“I’ll feed you my seed, Persephone,” Robert purred, a tint of possession to his voice, “And then? You’ll be mine.”

His member neared your wet vagina. He heistated, awaiitng for your nod.

You never had nodded faster in your life; it felt like you were dependent on the touch of his cock. Robert made sure to give you the thing you were most craved and wanted; which was him.

He fucks you infront of the fire. At first, it hurts. He’s very gentle, whispering kind words as you cry in both pleasure and pain. He slowly grinds against you as as you bury your hands into his hair, digging your nails deep through his hair. Robert cooes into your ear, calling you his deity and his Persephone. As he hungirly humps against you all while holding your hand and saying sweet words of pet names and reassurance, it leaves you to think.

Through the humping, moans, and grunts, the myth you could barely read earlier comes to mind. In your story, your Persephone, and he’s Hades. Like how Hades took Persephone from her world, Robert snatched you from your crowd at Berkeley. Not that you felt satisfied within it, but he took you every Friday and weekend into his home and world, keeping you among him and spoiling and adoring you as a way for you to fall in love with him. You did fall for him, but a part of you hesitated. Robert was thirty five and you were freshly eighteen. The age dfiference and power imbalance was more then evident.

But now, you were able to look past that.

Like Hades had done to Persephone, he gave her the seed to keep her to him.

Robert had done the same to you, his warm cum feeling inside of your aching stomach.

With a heavy exhale, Robert fell beside your, gathering you in his arms. He holds you close, and like it’s routine, return the favor and curl into him.

Hatomi was right; the theory of social change perfectly applies to you.

Time passes, and within that tie, you and Robert lay together nude in front of the fire. After cleaning you, he fetches one of your Greek Myths and a cigarette. The two of you share puffs from the cigarette as he reads the tale of Prometheus to you. Robert holds himself up with one arm, the other wrapped around your waist, his hand resting on your stomach. You stare into the fire, stroking his hand that rubs your stomach, listening to his velvety voice read the myth.

“After the Olympian gods emerged victorious, Zeus tasked Prometheus and Epimetheus with creating humans and giving them unique qualities. Epimetheus, meaning "afterthought," began distributing various attributes among the animals, giving each species-specific traits to survive in the world. However, when it came to humans, he had given away all the positive qualities to animals, leaving humans vulnerable and defenseless,” Robert read the paper as he stroked your hair, “Prometheus to intervene. He stole fire from the gods and gave it to humanity, along with other gifts such as knowledge, craftsmanship, and agriculture. Fire symbolized not only warmth and light but also technological advancement and the ability to cook food, which was crucial for human development. Prometheus shaped humanity out of clay or mud–”

A piece of wood falls in the fire, and you curl your knees into your stomach.

“–and Athena breathed life into his clay figures.”

#carrie writes #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy fanfiction #j robert oppenheimer #oppenheimer x reader #j robert oppenheimer x reader #oppenheimer

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the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf · 9 months

Text

You're waiting for a train...(9)

Mr Charles and Miss Nobody

Robert Fischer x reader

description - Ariadne pries deeper. The dreamers drop down another level. Mr Charles introduces himself.

warnings - allusions to abuse with a knife, drinking (character is of age according to the British drinking age of 18), fake kidnapping, Robert being a soft boi whilst flirting

word count - 3.5k

a/n - had a spurt of inspiration because I went to see Oppenheimer for the 2nd time today! Finally got to see it in Imax! What an experience! I took my mum and I had to persuade her to come and she was kind of just coming for me but by the end she LOVED it and we couldn't stop talking about it on the way home. It was just such a lovely memory that I got to make with my mum ❤

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*your pov*

I stood still in front of the workbench, trying to put as much space in between me and my dad as possible. Arthur hovered close to me but couldn’t bring himself to actually come over to converse with me. Ariadne approached me from behind. I jumped as she startled me. She lowered her voice and spoke her question, that she was afraid to ask.

“Do you remember your mom, after –”

“You mean after her and my dad woke up?” I nodded my head feeling the end of her question. Looking over to my father’s hunched frame where she had just come from.

“Yeah.” She softly uttered.

I braced my body against the table and threw my mind back.

“I was the first face she saw once she awoke. But the look in her eyes was so weird. There wasn’t love there. There was confusion.” I rolled into my answer with ease, as if the words had been on the tip of my tongue. “I distinctly remember I went to hug her, but she flinched. I was so hurt and I looked to my dad but he couldn’t even look me in the eye.” I punctuated the end with a repressed sob remembering that fateful day.

I was 15 years old. Dad had wanted me to watch over their bodies as they slept and as the count went down I had begun to wait so I could be there, too excited for them to wake up. Mum’s eyes blinked open first. She rolled over to gaze to the ceiling and I had crept over into her line of sight. I saw the breath hold as she met my eyes, almost afraid at the thought of my very existence. I clasped my hands to stop myself jumping onto her body in the tightest hug possible. Every time they went under without me, I felt tremendous loss. But they always came back. Always.

“As the days got longer, so did the arguments. Hours upon hours of screaming and yelling. Philippa and James would come into my bed, and I’d build forts, read stories. Anything to make them forget.”

“So, she didn’t believe in you either?” Ariadne broke through my speech.

I giggled in disbelief at my own memories. “No. She thought me to be a projection, and there’s only one thing you do with projections who you see to be a threat.” My eyes fell down to my forearm and the raised pink flesh which sliced down my arm. Ariadne followed my gaze. I bristled under her stare. My immediate response pulled down my rolled up sleeve for extra protection.

“So she thought she was still in limbo –” I ripped my jacket from the chair to my side.

“It’s not polite to pry.” I threw my jacket on with fearsome motion. “You know you don’t have to know every little detail about us. You just have to trust what we can do.” I flicked my hair out of the colour. “After this, we become nothing to you. Don’t dig the shallow grave any deeper.” I stormed off.

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“Alright bag ��em.”

“You’re going for a ride.” Arthur and Cobb, masked, threw bags over Robert and ‘Browning’s’ heads. Before the sack could cover him Robert rushed out.

“What about the girl? From before? What will happen to her?”

“We’re leaving her, she’s no longer any use.” Fearing this meant what he thought it meant, Robert’s eyes stung.

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The two men were dragged out, the ratty sacks making them more alike to scarecrows than humans. They were thrown into the minibus but Robert continued to plead.

“We’re worth more to you alive! Do you hear me?” Cobb dribbled the sedative onto the sack, knocking him out cold.

Eames ripped off his own sack as he got out of the car, no longer disguised. Remembering, I also removed my own, no longer posing any risk to the mission.

“What’d you get?” Dad asked.

Eames struggled to catch his breath, his fearful acting becoming hard to shake off. “That boys relationship with his father is even worse than we imagined.” My shoulders slumped.

“This helps us how?” Arthur questioned whilst circling the van.

“The stronger the issues, the more powerful the catharsis.” Cobb answered on Eames’ behalf.

“How are we gonna reconcile them if they’re so estranged?” Arthur refused to let any concern be lost.

“Well, I’m working on that, aren’t I?” Eames fought back. He baffled at Arthur’s persistence.

“Work faster.” Arthur spat. I punched his shoulder from behind. He looked down towards me and mumbled out. “Sorry, Eames.”

“What was that?” Eames exaggeratedly offered his ear.

“Sorry. It’s great work.” Arthur forced out of his unwilling mouth. Eames winked at me before getting in his seat. I slowly passed Arthur by to squeeze his arm in a silent thank you. But I felt him leave my grip as quick as I had initiated it.

“The projections are closing in quick.” Arthur hurried to an open door, armed. “We gotta break out of here before we’re totally blocked in.” He threw open the door wider, offering a clear view. He raised a machine gun, aiming it high, but his shots at the projections kept falling short. And he was met with a response of bullets.

“We mustn’t be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling.” Eames approached brandishing an even bigger gun, belittling Arthur, and his choices. The projection was vanquished in one clean trigger pull. I rolled my eyes at their pettiness and gestured for them to hurry back to the van where I’d already taken my place. I’d deliberately sat by Robert to hold his hand. Whether this comfort was for him or me. My thumb still stroked up and down his palm.

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We pulled out of the warehouse, our survival in the hands of Yusuf. Speed was imperative to our survival. We didn’t need to kill the projections, just outrun them. Yet my pistol never left my hand.

“Now we need to shift his animosity from his father to his godfather.” Cobb stated.

“You’re gonna destroy his one positive relationship?” Ariadne rightly protested. I went to agree but the necessity was too severe.

“No, we repair his relationship with his father,” Eames jumped in. “Whilst exposing his godfather’s true nature. We should charge Fischer a lot more than Saito for this job.”

“Hoping that his godfather was actually a bad man or we just lost him someone dear to him.” I solemnly said. My thumb continuing to find solace in the hand in mine.

“Maybe we’ll just have to find him someone else.” Eames whispered for my ears only with a comforting wink my way.

“What about his security?” Arthur dragged me back to the obstacle at hand. “It’s gonna get worse as we get deeper?”

“I think we run with Mr Charles.” My dad’s tone held finality despite it’s questioning words.

“No.”

“Who’s Mr Charles?” Eames inquired, feeling out of the loop.

“Bad idea.”

“The second we get into that hotel and approach Fischer, his security is gonna be all over us.” Dad explained. “We run with Mr Charles just like we did with the Stein job.”

“And we all saw how that went.” I mumbled under my breath but I was caught by Dad who fixed me a glare which I took to mean questioning him will get me nowhere. I sunk back into my seat.

“So you’ve done it before?” Eames hopefully spoke up to assure himself.

“Yeah, and it didn’t work.” Arthur corrected. “The subject realised he was dreaming, and his subconscious tore us to pieces.” I briefly inhaled to prevent the shudder that ran down my spine.

“Excellent! But you learned a lot, right?” Eames continued to be hopeful. I could no longer sense where the sarcasm ended.

“I’m gonna need some kind of distraction.”

“No problem. How about a lovely lady I’ve used before.”

“Is it vain if I assumed you were talking about me?” I teased Eames. He laughed and I enjoyed relishing in the small moment.

“Listen to me.” Dad leant forward to warn Yusuf. “You drive carefully alright?”

“Yeah.”

“Everything down there is gonna be unstable as hell”

“Don’t jump too soon!” Arthur cautioned. “We only got one shot at the kick. We gotta make it.”

“I’ll play the music to let you know it’s coming. The rest is on you.”

The IV’s were pulled out and we each relaxed back. I inserted Robert’s making sure to take my time and to be careful. I’d hate to cause any more injury. The disjointed movement of the car made it hard but I calmed myself by the time the liquid began to enter. Each muscle untethered from it’s neighbour and each joint appeared to sink into a deeper pool, spreading at the advanced area. The feeling had nearly reached the brink of my mind so I squeezed his hand tight one last time before we both slipped under.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

LAYER TWO: THE HOTEL

My eyes blinked open with the sting of tiny needles. I braced myself on the couch I had been staged on. I felt down my body feeling the harsh material of the formal business dress. Not unlike the one I wore on top. I flexed my feet in their restrictive black heels. Shit. Me falling flat on my ass was definitely not going to draw attention.

The expansive space closed in on me as the drastic structure felt so familiar yet so unknown. The hotel taunted me. It’s wide-open lobby seemed intent on swallowing me whole. For the first time I could feel my subconscious in my brain. It throbbed from it’s discovered location.

The strings in my chest loosened upon seeing Arthur walking towards me with a cheerful disposition. I sighed at his presence with relief. I raised to join him halfway but he breezed past my frame. He joined Ariadne who had seemed to appear behind me. They conversed before striding off to the vast staircase, they walked purposefully without looking back. I struggled to decide how I felt and landed on awkwardly placing one foot one direction and then turning the other way to repeat. I startled as a hand roughly landed on my shoulder and I jumped away to meet the face of Eames.

“You saw that?” I stuttered out through an awkward smile. Self-consciously closing my arms in on myself.

“I’ve said it before, but it never stops being true.” Eames huffed out. “He’s an idiot.” With a soft smile he gently gripped my chin. I blushed at the gesture and responded by knocking into him without any true force.

“Come on, I’ve got something better.” Eames sang out, intriguing me even more. I followed him laughing at the faux spring in his step.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

I struggled to contain my laughter as Eames seduced Robert in his favourite disguise. A blonde curvy gal with two big…personalities. Eames always claimed he’d designed her based on this supermodel he once dated but his story was full of plot holes. I sipped on my martini which I stewed in in the corner of the bar, just a few feet from the two. Eames had offered me a front seat to ‘his greatest performance yet’ and it had truly lifted my spirits.

I bit my lip at Robert’s responses. They were dripping in adorable awkwardness. He couldn’t meet her eye and only managed out stutters. The sight tugged on my heart and I stopped myself from gathering him up in my arms so I could never let him go.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

“There goes Mr Charles.” Arthur jutted his head to the stride of my father who was entering the bar as well. Ariadne subtly followed his gesture, in a misled attempt to be inconspicuous.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*your pov*

“I guess my story wasn’t to your liking.” She rose from the chair and strutted away. I could no longer contain my laugh at the shake of the hips, and a giggle burst through. Robert took notice of the noise and turned to face me as I tried to stifle my laughs. I didn’t feel the need to hide myself under his gaze so I left my smile where it was.

“I’m sorry was something amusing?” He questioned but a smile crept up his lips.

“Forgive me, I am often amused by men’s follies.” I picked up my glass to sit down at the stool next to him, which he had hurriedly pulled out at my movement.

He spun his body so he could fully face me interested in the discussion I had started. “Is it so unbelievable that a woman like that would be flirting with me?” He took my bait.

“I think it’s unbelievable that you think she was doing it for free.” I finished with a victorious sip to my martini once I heard a giggle. A genuine giggle. Free of biased or agenda.

“She’s not my type anyways.” I loudly laughed at this. A woman like that was any red blooded man’s type, and I told him so.

“I prefer women who enjoy martinis.” He nodded towards my drink and I blushed at the insinuation. But I couldn’t resist the tease.

“Who say’s I’m enjoying it.” I picked up the martini-soaked olives and slid them off the stick with my teeth. Our eyes never leaving the others.

“Well I don’t know.” He rung his hands feeling uncomfortable in this flirting territory.

“I’ll give you a hint. I’m enjoying this martini as much as I am enjoying talking to you.” I leaned in close as if we were about to exchange a secret. “And that’s a lot.” I whispered and relished in the red hue which spread across his cheeks. I didn’t want to pull back. Enjoying being able to study every inch of his face. Our mouths held the skeleton of a smile but our eyes delved deeper.

“I wondered when I was going to see you again.” The words left before his mind could keep up. I panicked upon hearing. In his eyes I saw a fight within his mind before he uttered out. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know where that came from.”

“It’s fine.” I chuckled as I was out of the woods. “The mind is a vast place. Something’s bound to slip through the gaps.” I eyed him from the side as he returned to his position.

“What’s your name?” He turned to face me once again.

“I’m…” I stripped my mind searching for an answer. “I’m nobody. Nobody anyone’s usually pleased to see anyway.” I smiled to soften my words.

“Well, Miss Nobody,” He happily played along. “I’m pleased to see you.” The full sincerity of his words floored my very being. He’d once again stolen my speech.

“Mr Fischer, pleased to see you again.” My dad hurriedly interrupted the sliver of space between us. “Rod Green from marketing.” He held out his hand and Robert refused it, angered at our conversations abrupt end. “I see you’ve met my daughter.” He gestured over to me. I shot him up a glare, in disbelief at what he’d just said. Robert suddenly sat up straighter. Leaning away from me as if to prove his innocence. I opened my mouth, but no words were formed. I simply decided to huff like a child at my Dad’s embarrassing actions.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

“Who or what is Mr Charles?” Ariadne interrogated Arthur due to his apparent dislike of the task.

“It’s a gambit designed to turn Fischer against his own subconscious.”

“And why don’t you approve?”

“Because it involves telling the mark that he’s dreaming, which involves attracting attention to us.” He explained.

“Thought Cobb said never to do that?” Ariadne became confused.

Arthur hummed in agreement. “So now you’ve realised how much time Cobb spends doing things he says never to do.” They both chuckle.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*your pov*

I shudder as the water in Fischer’s glass tilts, ignoring it’s own gravity.

Robert silently apologised before turning to address the unusual man who had just claimed to know him and to be my dad. “I’m sorry who did you say you were?”

“Rod Green from marketing.” Cobb sat down, sandwiching Robert in between us. “But that’s not true at all, is it?”

Robert glanced at me seeking my reassurance. I was saddened it could only be an assured smile rather than a gentle touch.

“My name is Mr Charles. You remember me don’t you?” Cobb pressed as the sensitivity of time was apparent. “I’m the head of your security down here. We both are.”

Robert looked towards my young form incredulously. “Security huh? You work for the hotel?” I now felt uncomfortable in the line of questioning. I wasn’t meant to be in this position and dad had knowingly put me here.

“No, I specialise in a very specific type of security.” Dad lowered his voice. “Subconscious security.”

“you’re talking about dreams?” Robert scoffed. “Are you talking about…extraction?”

“I am here to protect you, you –” A waiter dropped his tray on the bar next to me, the liquid spilling onto my arm. I reacted to the cold liquid. Robert grabbed a napkin to dab me dry. I gave him a smile in gratefulness. I noticed my dads eyes numb and focus on a distant spot. I spun around near breaking my neck. I just managed to catch the frames of Thomas and Philippa exiting the vision. My breath quickened feeling my dads problems leak into my own. I spun back before Fischer could follow my eyes. I fixed myself onto my dads troubled expression as if willing him to pull it together. If he didn’t have time for my emotional immaturity then I certainly had no time for his. The conversations around us halted sensing my father’s unusual presence.

“Mr Fischer I’m here to protect you in the event that someone tries to access your minds through your dreams.” Cobbs continuation meant the projections relaxed themselves. “You’re not safe here.” He leaned in to pour his next words directly into his mind. “They’re coming for you.”

My unconscious body’s cheek was flushed with raindrops in the van and this meant a cascade of water shuttered on to the window in front of the three of us, startling both Robert and I.

“Strange weather isn’t it?” Dad pointed out. “You feel that?” As Robert took in his surroundings I could feel his anxiety rise so my hand found itself on his thigh to calm him.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

“What’s happening?” Ariadne panicked at the shift of the earth.

“Cobb is drawing Fischer’s attention to strangeness of the dream.” Arthur explained. “Which is making his subconscious look for the dreamer.” Arthur stilled his panic. “For me.”

“Quick, give me a kiss.” Arthur asked once many eyes were on them. Ariadne followed and they met in a soft kiss. Arthur closed his eyes and he thought of y/n. The kiss felt wrong. I mean, it felt nice, he’s a man, but it didn’t feel right.

“They’re still looking at us.” Ariadne continued to observe around her.

“Worth a shot.” Arthur teased. Ariadne sensed his intent and couldn’t help the smirk she adorned. A silence hung between the two.

“So are we gonna talk about it?”

“About what?”

“The elephant in the room. The elephant named y/n who you refuse to talk to.” Ariadne pushed Arthur’s cold shoulder. “You saw her there when we first woke but you brushed right past. And you can’t tell me it’s cause you were desperate to work with me. There’s only one reason a man treats a woman like that. I’ve seen how close you two are. So what happened?”

“Nothing happened.” Arthur tried to subdue but his lie seeped right through. Ariadne was unsatisfied and wouldn’t let it rest. Arthur relented to her persistence.

“From the first moment we met, I never agreed with her being in the field with us. Of course I couldn’t understand how Cobb, as her father, could allow her but I seemed to always be more upset with y/n. She willingly goes along with it, putting herself in danger.” Arthur hung his head and focused on his fidgeting hands. He whispered out as if afraid to believe it himself. “I sometimes worry that she does it to feel something. Feel the pain.”

“Or she’s just a girl trying to keep her family together.” Ariadne finished. She sensed the information he was leaving out. But she couldn’t let him continue with a vision of y/n clouded in red of his own making. “You know, you’re gonna need a bit more makeup to cover up your bruised ego.” She poked his cheek through her tease. Arthur relented himself to giggle at her mockery. Feeling the humour in his situation. They laughed together before rising to continue with their mission.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*your pov*

“You feel that.” Robert’s mind woke up as world around him swirled. “You’ve actually been trained for this Mr Fischer.” The room shook and began to shake off it’s various decorations. “Pay attention to the strangeness of the weather, the shift in gravity.” I could feel Robert awaken to the reality we had created. The gravity changed around us and I wished to comfort Robert more but now anything I did remained under my dads watchful eye.

I leant into his side, placing my lips by his ear.

“You’re in a dream, honey.”

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

taglist: @jonsncws @h-l-vlovesvintage @theethy @fashionki11a @felicity1994 @bearchermer @idkyoutellmesmh @mimimarvelingmarvel @butterfly-lies-chase-them-away @neotanpopper @deliriouslybi @folklorde24 @thefandomdiaries07 @viarosemcmissile @noirrose21-blog @thepoeticfirefly @xoxo-gothic-girl @skeletonwrite @jellyzelek

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callsigncrash · 9 months

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Various Characters and if they’d take you to see Barbie or Oppenheimer

Note: No spoilers below!

________________________________________________

Homelander

“They offered me the role of Ken but I turned it down.”

Will take you to see both, but it’ll be a private showing if it’s not a premier.

If you want to meet any of the cast or want something from one of the movies, he’ll get it for you.

Get him the “I’m Kenough” sweatshirt.

“Hi, Barbie!” him or make the “My first product was released in Japan” joke.

It hurts his eyes a bit but he’ll entertain you and sit in the front row at Oppenheimer.

He actually has a good time.

Your happy energy and the carefree vibe that goes with the hype of the movies keeps him calm even when getting annoyed and it lets him relax.

Black Noir

Did you really think he wouldn’t want to see Barbie?

He wanted to see it before you even said anything!

He can also help you get things from the movie or meet the cast.

He can get a private showing, take you to the premier, whatever plan you have is cool with him.

His “friends” are also very excited!

He may or may not have a “driving to the movie” playlist ready.

Holds your hand during the whole movie.

Naki

He’ll try and be “macho” and say Oppenheimer but he just wants to see Barbie.

He’ll dress up if you want him to.

Will do those little magazine tests to see which Barbie character he is.

Is another one who will wear a “I’m Kenough” hoodie.

Is utterly confused about the corvette bucket and ends up getting the tin bucket with Margot on it.

Leans on you during the movie and maybe holds your hand.

Hums the Ken solo for days afterwards.

Ben

He is a full on himbo Ken who is very excited to see Barbie!

He wears a pink polo and Barbie crocs to the movie.

Please wear something Barbie themed to match with him. It would mean the world to him.

Will ask you if you want to get the Barbie corvette popcorn bucket because he also wants one.

He’s smiley already but he’s even more so when you sit down to watch the movie.

Will want to talk about the movie afterwards.

Might go see it again just because.

Abed

You’d discussed this over a year ago and had a plan ready to see both movies on the same day.

Dressing up is mandatory but there might be a tiff about who gets to be which character.

He absolutely commits to whichever character he chooses.

“This Ken is a movie buff”.

Troy definitely joins y’all.

Be prepared for back and forth inside jokes and references to the movie with the both of them for weeks.

Another one who may go see both movies again.

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robinofgothamcity · 7 months

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♡ character: jonathan crane x reader

♡ pronouns used: she / her

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / can we talk about the chokehold cillian murphy has on us bc of oppenheimer? legit busting out this fanfic of scarecrow bc cillian played him. might be ooc but who cares? cillian murphy scarecrow will always be superior

"i think gotham university is actually the worst but it's cheap and gives me the degree without having too many student loans," you said as you stirred your iced coffee. being a senior in college, all the consumed your life was finishing off your last year strong and trying to pay off your debts as soon as you could, "so does that mean you won't be coming to the party?"

you gave your friend an eyeroll, "my love, what kind of 24 year old rolls up to a frat party? no less on a Tuesday night? some of the boys there will probably try to get laid just so they can say they had a night with a cougar," you and your friend instantly started laughing, "but i am willing to go to that bar this weekend!"

just as you started getting up get to refill your coffee, you noticed a man standing in front of you. you knew he was a professor here but you didn't know for which department. you gave him a small smile as a hello and deciding just to pour your coffee without saying much.

you were pouring your ice into your cup and minding your business when you noticed that Dr.Crane dropped his own coffee on the bar. you quickly took out a stack of napkins, instantly helping him clean up. the coffee was searing hot which made you realize that you were burning your hand in the process.

"fuck, that hurts!" you whispered. Dr.Crane immediately pulled your hand back, "here, let me see," he said as he analyzed your now red hand. it was burning and your hand started to bubble up from the heat, "we're going to have ointment on that as soon as possible. you're going to need to come with me."

you were a bit thrown off by how blunt he was being however you knew Dr.Crane was known for being a bit stand offish. he wasn't the kind of professor that everyone got along with or even went to his office to talk too.

he dragged you off to his office, immediately pulling out his emergency aid kit and started the healing process. you sat back, texting your friend to pack your things off and leaving it in front of his office. you didn't say a word as he was murmuring to himself, "this might sting so brace yourself," he whispered.

you instantly shot up in pain, trying not to yell but the pain of the ointment made you grab his arm and squeeze it. he chuckled as you were trying to show that you weren't in pain however it was very evident that your pain tolerance was not that high.

"you did well for someone that just had rubbing alcohol rubbed into an open wound," you gave him a weary smile before he started placing a bandage wrap on your hand, "so, what's your major?" he asked jumping into a completely different conversation.

"early education! I want to be a preschool teacher!" he hummed in interest, "love children?" you shook your head in agreement, "i love teaching them however to have some of my own is not really my gist," he nodded, "that should do it. keep the bandage on until Saturday and after that, you should place some more healing ointment on it but let the wound breathe. you don't need it to get infected."

"thank you so much Dr.Crane," he brushed you off, "it's not your fault. I was the one who dropped coffee on the bar." he helped you up from the chair and opened the door, "what is your name?"

you gave him your name as you shook his hand with your bandaged one, "you're welcomed into my office at any time." that was all he said before walking away into the next hallway. you didn't know what he meant by that but you didn't think too much into it. you grabbed your things and rubbed your bandages as you started to walk away from his office.

Saturday night came around as you were getting dressed for the night. you were meeting your friends at a bar not too far from your apartment. you were wearing a tennis skirt and a tank top to battle the heat that was still lingering in Gotham. you knew that you were bound to regret it since the bar all of you wanted to go to was a bit more on the expensive side and probably had the air conditioning cranked all the way up.

you pulled on your shoes and went to meet your friends in front of the bar. as you were waiting for them to arrive, you noticed a couple of men entering. you could have sworn one of them looked like Dr.Drane but you figured that couldn't be Dr.Crane. he didn't seem like the bar attending type.

"hey, isn't that Dr.Crane from the psychology department?" one of you friends said later into the night. you turned around and true to her word, Dr.Crane and two other men were sitting down at the bar, sipping on what looked like whiskey. you could have sworn that he was staring at you but you shook that feeling away, "I think it is. I could've sworn I saw him earlier but didn't think that was actually him."

you wanted to get another drink but suddenly, you felt a bit nervous approaching the bar. you could sense Dr.Cranes very blue eyes now starting to look at you but the urge to get another beer was calling your name.

one of your friends noticed how you were drinking a bit more but as soon as she saw the professor staring at you, it all connected.

"oh, you're scoring high, aren't you?" she asked laughing. you shook your head no, "that's a professor at the university I attend. I might a bit desperate but not that desperate."

"what are the chances that Crane has the hots for you,-" "very likely as he is coming over here with two glasses of wine in his hand."

your eyes widened, not knowing what to do. you admittedly tried to fix your hair as he approached your table, "I figured it'd be polite to bring you a glass of wine before I whisked you away from your friends," he said handing it over to you, "I just wanted to ask how your hand healed."

your friends instantly moved away from the table, "if I remember telling you correctly, you could have removed the bandage today," he stated. you chuckled awkwardly, "uh, I got scared and figured I'd have a friend help me in case I needed it rebandaged. he's a pre-med student so I knew I could trust him."

"scared? of a little burn? come on, let me help you."

you didn't say a thing and let him take the lead. he grabbed your hand and unwrapped it, sensing that your hand was shaking a bit. he examined the now healed wound. a burn mark that he was sure was going to scar but other than that, nothing to be concerned of.

"ah, as I suspected. not much besides scarring. once you get home, apply more healing ointment," you nodded in agreement, "thank you Dr.Crane," he chuckled lowly, "i'm not at work, please call me Jonathan."

"thank you a lot Jonathan-," "come sit with my friends and I."

you wanted to protest but you didn't see your friends in the same spot anymore. they had all wandered off with men they saw to hang out with for the night. you swore to yourself that you'd end up punching them for leaving you alone with Jonathan for the night.

"oh, of course. I hope I'm not intruding," you whispered. Jonathan shook his head, "not at all." you walked up to his friends who seemed to be whispering to each other until you walked up.

"this is my lovely companion ( your name). ( your name ), these are my partners who work alongside me at Arkham. Jervis Tetch and Edward Nashton."

you gave them a smile and shook their hands, "it's a pleasure," you said. Jervis placed a kiss on the back of your hand, "no, pleasure is all mine," he said.

Jonathan raised an eyebrow as his friend indicating to back off. you sat next to Jonathan as the three talked about various different things. you didn't care to speak up as the wine you were drinking was enough enjoyment.

"so, you attend Gotham University? what is your degree in?" Edward suddenly asked you. you perked up a bit, "oh! early childhood education. intending to be a preschool teacher!"

"interesting, developing the minds of young children, how sweet," he replied. you nodded as you didn't catch the wink that Edward sent Jonathan's way, "yeah! it's fun being around all of them and being able to teach them the fundamentals of life!"

you got up, excusing yourself to get another glass of wine as the three men all watched you leave.

"I understand why she became of interest. pretty little thing, isn't she?" Jervis asked. Jonathan agreed, "with a little help from Jervis, I'm sure she'll be a great help with all of our plans."

Jonathan needed a partner. not so much of romance, although he didn't mind if that's how it worked out with you, but with someone who could help him get Gotham under his ruling. there were certain characteristics that intrigued him about you and after doing extensive research on you, he knew you'd be the perfect one.

you were dancing to the music that was playing in the bar as you awaited your wine. he went up to you as the lights dimmed down and the music got louder.

"no one is here to watch us dance with the lights now being lowered. mind?" now with the buzz of the alcohol in your system, you agreed and followed him to the floor. you were dancing against him as he remained as stiff as a board.

you didn't seem to care as he knew that him acting out a bit ridiculously was only temporary. through his research, he knew you were a party girl in your early 20s. your social medias didn't hide it and the photos you were tagged in seemed like you had a bit of a promiscuous side to you as well.

"you're a gorgeous girl, how come your out here without a partner," you shrugged in response, "romance never seemed to find me." he chuckled as bent down to your ear, "even though it is against policy that professors have any kind relationship with a pupil, I did see that you are in your last year."

you nodded in agreement as he noticed that your eyes had gotten lowered due to the alcohol, "so does that mean you want to see me after this?" he hummed in agreement, "way more than you realize." you giggled cutely as you turned around and faced him.

his glasses were fogged due to how warm the bar was.

"well I can't say that I'm opposed to that idea," you whispered. he smirked as he realized Jervis' power must've been working, "I love that you're on board with the idea." his hands found your thighs as he rubbed them.

you giggled once again as you smashed your lips against his. you didn't care if this landed back in your car or your place but the higher his hands went, the warmer your face got. your tongue was fighting against his as your breath quickened up.

"how about we take this back to my house?" you nodded excitedly as Jervis and Edward noticed that Jonathan's plan went onto succeed, "I guess we're no longer needed?" Jervis asked Edward. he nodded as he chuckled, "ever the ladies man, isn't he?" Edward responded.

the two friends shook their heads in disbelief as they noticed you hanging off of Jonathan's side, placing kisses on his next as his hand remained rubbing against your thigh.

#dc imagine #dc x reader #dc comics #comics #jonathan crane #jonathan crane imagine #jonathan crane x reader #scarecrow #scarecrow imagine #scarecrow x reader

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kit-walk3r · 9 months

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Are the Evans team Barbie or team Oppenheimer?

It seems appropriate 😂

Barbie

Kit- Originally went to see Barbie because Julia wanted to but ended up loving it. Definitely cried. Loved seeing Barbie’s onscreen that looked like Julia, he could tell it made her happy. 100% had a crush on Margot Robbie after this.

Rory- Is actually one of the background Ken’s and won’t stop telling people. Drags all his friends and family to see it so he can point out himself in the background of a dance number for 10 seconds. Laughs out loud at every joke. Actively uses the phrase ‘Kenergy’.

Gallant- Barbie’s were his first subjects for styling hair so is super excited for the movie. Thinks he could have styled Margot Robbie’s hair better than the actual movie stylist. Everyone thinks he’s crushing on Ryan Gosling as Ken but he’s actually crushing on Michael Cera as Allan.

Peter- Knows all the words to I’m Just Ken. Has the Ken rollerblades and has attempted to run with them on but failed miserably. Is not ashamed to admit that he finds all of the Barbie’s attractive.

Oppenheimer

James- Actually remembers when the atomic bomb happened so is intrigued to see how they’ve translated it to film. Is disappointed that they don’t show the dead. Doesn’t understand why Oppenheimer feels guilty. Barbie is too bright, colourful and happy for him.

Kai- Barbie: a film about empowering women? Fuck that, Kai wants the movie with explosions. Pre-cult Kai would have cried seeing Florence Pugh naked. Considered changing his name from ‘Divine Ruler’ to ‘Death, Destroyer of Worlds’.

Barbenheimer

Tate- Really sees himself in Allen. Can relate to Oppenheimer’s guilt. Leaves both movies crying. Wants Ken’s hoodie that says “I’m Kenough”. Has an existential crisis leaving Barbie questioning who he is. Fears nuclear war after Oppenheimer.

Kyle- Did the Barbenheimer double bill. Secretly preferred Barbie to Oppenheimer but loved them both. Wore pink to Barbie. Gets excited every time he recognises an actor in Oppenheimer. Won’t shut up about both movies after he’s seen them and will fight people on the internet who insult them.

Jimmy- Team Barbie because he thinks every person in that movie is attractive. Team Oppenheimer because he actually loves a good biopic. Afterwards says he would definitely go to a Tupperware Party hosted by the Barbie’s.

Austin- Won’t stop talking about the Barbie soundtrack and costume design. Won’t stop talking about the theatrics of Oppenheimer. Won’t stop talking about Cillian Murphy’s eyes.

Colin- Empowering women!! Emily Blunt!! Colin definitely crushes on Emily Blunt and also loves a movie that empowers women so Barbie and Oppenheimer are his two perfect movies. Clapped at the end of both films.

•—————————————————————————•

Since I’ve seen both of the movies I thought this would be fun 🤭

Taglist: @jellyluvr @howtobesasha @dewberryobssesed @rwottvn @kaismanwich @violetharmonstwin @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @mariefics @spill-the-t @hyperharlz

Want to join my taglist? Just reply here!

#american horror story #ahs #evan peters #tate langdon #kit walker #kyle spencer #jimmy darling #james patrick march #kai anderson #rory monahan #mr gallant #Colin zabel #Peter maximoff #barbenheimer

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samstclair · 7 months

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Tommy Shelby's Barmaid

Tommy Shelby X Reader

Anonymous Request -

Good morning/afternoon/evening/night Sammy Sammy yes I am! So check this out - I just saw Oppenheimer and came to the conclusion that I really miss seeing Cillian Murphy's face. So that night I began rewatching Peaky Blinders and am just in awe. So you know the point. I want to be his barmaid. No hate to Grace, love her, but let a girl just imagine. And that's where you come in. So yeah I wanna be his barmaid and sing to him. Maybe we're off to the races? Do your thing or else I'll might do a thing and report your account! :)

Word Count: pretty long

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"And where are we off to, Miss?"

"One ticket to London, please!" you told the airport cashier, (or whatever they're called I'm not sure tbh), with your gleeful, bimbo smile. "The UK, one, thought. Not the Ohio one! Can't have that happening again!"

The lady didn't respond, she instead gave you a soft customer service fake ass laugh pretending she knew full well what you were talking about and kept her eyes down on the computer, securing that flight. You no longer trusted yourself to use computers or laptops, thanks to those Benadryl pills you used to be addicted to. But now that you were evicted from your New York apartment, you lost those pills in the process, and honestly all of your personal shit, so you've been forced to quit cold turkey and was actually experiencing withdrawals at the very moment. But, you couldn't let anyone know this! You needed to leave America fast.

"Okay, to confirm your name, Y/L/N, Y/F/N, correct?"

"Yes, ma'am!" You passed her your credit card and she did her magic, charging you a fuck ton of money!

The printer pooped out your ticket and she passed both that and your card back to you.

"Enjoy your flight. Safe travels," the lady wished you.

"Oh my god, girl, you too!" you wished back. You turned around and found your terminal, buying an expensive Starbucks drink of your choice and plopping your big butt down on a chair. You sat and looked around, sipping your coffee like a mother, taking in your surroundings of this little JFK airport they got going on.

"I'm really a world traveler right now...like, I'm on some Lewis and Clark shit right now," you thought to yourself.

You looked down at your luggages, or perhaps, just luggage. All that remained after your eviction just filled one Hello Kitty-themed suitcase you bought from TJ Maxx. You also had your rare vintage Juicy Couture purse you bought from Depop, thats faux leather was literally peeling off like dead skin, filled with all your essentials - lip gloss, nearly dead Elf Bar, crumpled up two-year-Goodwill old receipts, wired headphones because that's what cool people use walking down the street, crystals, loose hair ties, a baby Calico Critter, wire-exposed phone charger, and more that aren't too important to mention. You did miss all your other knick knacks and items that were lost, but since you were traveling light you 1. saved more money since it was just carry-on and 2. looked mysterious, just a girl on the road on her own adventure.

"After all, items are just like - items. Things." you thought, trying to convince yourself that all material items are just not real and people don't really need those things. This is what you repeated to yourself over and over but in all honesty it wasn't helping. You were fucking pissed you lost all your shit.

With all your items was your go-to airport fit - a Juicy baby blue tracksuit. So now you resorted to old PJ's you had shoved to the bottom depths of your drawer, wrinkled to the house boots down and forgotten of existence. They were a pair of Nike shorts and a baby tee that read "I <3 Surfer Boys". You then looked down to your white Crocs with the knock-off Jibblitz - the ootd would just have to do.

As you sat in your terminal, waiting, you thought about what adventures UK would bring to you. You wondered what people you'd encounter, what new storylines you'd get wrapped into, what NPCs would say to you - it really did feel like you were fast-traveling into another country in a video game.

Safe to say, you were ready for liftoff! Whenever that liftoff! would be because your flight was delayed like three times cause that's just airport things! This was the start of a new adventure! New and humble beginnings! No more America and their never-ending obsession with you committing financial fraud or whatever the IRS loved to say! But never mind that don't ask don't PUSH!!!!!!

Some hours later, you were finally able to board your flight. By this time, let's just say - people were fucking pissed about their flight being delayed, but you didn't really mind it. Yes, you were in a big time rush to leave America as soon as possible, but all that time waiting allowed you to finish the only downloaded show on your phone: LPS Popular. Shit was finally getting heated, Savannah Reed was def the no nonsense type of girl you envisioned yourself to be.

Anyway whatever you boarded on, took your window seat and went through the usual bullshit of waiting for everyone to board on and take off and turbulence and random ass baby crying and shitty food and whatever.

About a half hour in the sky, you looked through the catalogue of movies available - none which caught your interest.

However, after scrolling for another half hour - you found the one.

"Oh my god, a movie about two lovers flying in the sky staring Cillian Murphy and Rachel McAdams?!" you thought excitedly. "That's some good shit right there."

You hit that play button, scooted deeper into that seat, propped your patas up, and was subsequently locked IN for the short ass movie Red Eye.

The majority of the plot went over your head because you were to entranced with the Irish actor's cunty little face, sassy little attitude and blue big orbs for eyes, causing you to replay certain scenes over and over. (Specifically that bathroom scene. You didn't miss SHIT there). That hour and a half passed by and the movie had finished. Safe to say, you were NOT expecting any of that shit to go down.

"If that were me, I'd call that fucking hotel before he even told me to. Shit. I get Mark Wahlberg, if I was on that plane, things really would have gone differently," you thought, shaking your head. ]

After your almost seven hour flight, you had finally made it to London Town. It was indeed a stormy day, he was right, but you could go outside and roam around, contrary to popular belief. In order to prep for this trip, you stuck to just watching British films, trying to get an overall vibe of what those little redcoats were like. Pride and Prejudice (2005), Love Actually, Trainspotting, Little Women (Greta's version), Clockwork Orange, Barry Lyndon - let's just say, your Letterboxd was going crazy. You sobbed pretty disgustingly to all of them, except Trainspotting and Clockwork, which made you feel just icky. And Barry Lyndon just made you angry fuck that guy fr.

A/N - I just realized that Little Women, both Greta's version and the older 90s Winona Ryder one take place, in FACT, America. Oops! So yeah disregard move on u horndog <3

You once thought you were well-rounded on what chaos was, after all, you've been 1. in theater school, 2. briefly in the Medellin cartel, 3. worked in corporate America - but all of those experiences looked like fun Sunday pastimes the moment you stepped your fat butt off of the plane into London's Heathrow airport. Nothing could've prepped you for this shit. Too many people all doing different things in different directions was NOT your favorite place to be in! Let's just say - shit was hectic.

You boarded off, left your terminal and gathered your one Hello Kitty-themed suitcase and bolted the fuck out, running at your highest speed possibly, your Crocs locked in their sports mode, you just ran. It's what you did best, your superpower some might say. Maybe since Ezra Miller is canceled for being a kidnapper, you could possibly replace the Flash? Who knows tbh.

You ran so fast, miles and miles, (kilometers here!), you didn't realize you were now standing in front of the Big Ben. It was, admittedly, pretty big. Too bad you couldn't read time like that.

You looked down to your phone to see your receipt - you needed to be back in three hours for your next flight to Glasgow, Scotland - your actual destination. This London shit? Yeah it was only a layover. But you couldn't miss it.

You ended up missing it. You fell asleep on the big red bus, thinking you could sneak a little tour in before having to return for your next flight. By the time you woke up, it was morning, and you were alone, just you and your carry on.

"Ello Miss? Miss?"

Your eyes fluttered, adjusting to the brightness. A big English dude with missing and fucked up teeth was poking you awake.

"Bro what?" you muttered, pushing yourself up.

"Miss, it seems you've drifted off to sleep," the man said.

"Wait," you collected your thoughts, looked around at your surroundings, then down to your phone - your flight was seven hours ago. You felt your heart fall to the acidic pits of your stomach -

"Ain't no fucking way I'm stuck in London", you blurted out. "AIN'T NO FUCKING WAY!"

As if you took ten shots of DayQuil, you jumped up, scrambled for your shit and rocked the bus side to side as your Crocs took you across it, out to the exit and back onto the cobblestone streets of London Town. It was cloudy as always.

"Oh no. Oh fuck. Oh no. NO I CAN'T DO THIS I CAN'T!" you yelled, running back towards the direction of that hell of an airport. You needed to get back. You NEEDED to get back to Scotland, you literally saw Trainspotting just for Scotland!

But alas, it was too late. By the time you made it back to Heathrow, there was no refunding. You would have to pay another fat BUCK to get on another flight.

"Oh fuck that," you told the English lady. You walked back out, no way this little kingdom was gonna make a profit off of your ass. "I'd rather walk!"

And then you began to walk. Not run, you were a little hungry and needed some energy for that amount of dedication.

You stopped by a tea place and thought that you might as well have a crumpet or whatever, which sucked ass. They charged so much for what? A pastry with like three grams of sugar? Girl bye.

You sat on the curb, looking down at your phone and opening a map, you could literally just walk to Scotland. Yeah it'd be a pretty fat walk, but you might get a crazy BBL ass for free from all the walking.

"Babes? Are you alroight?" you heard a strong British voice call. You turned and there it was - a chav. A real fucking chav.

"Oh my god, you guys exist?"

She furrowed her dark over-filled brows as she smacked her nude-lipsticked lips on a piece of gum. There were other chavs behind her, all bleach blonde, overly tan and red ass cheeks. It was like your friend group, but in an alternate universe.

"Wot?" she asked again, more confused than offended.

"Listen girl, I don't know if you can tell - but I'm not from here. I need to get to from the UK to Scotland. How does a girl like me do that?"

"Babes? Yor in the UKay, loike, this is London?"

"Huh?" you asked, like Trisha Paytas in the car.

"Babes," another chimed in, "the UKay is loike, mooltiple places poot into one? Loike, England, Scotland, Ireland, Wales -"

"Oh, so they're all like, the same?"

Their faces dropped with fear.

"Babes, don't say that. I've just met you, but I'd definitely tell you loike, don't say that around other peepol," the main chav warned.

"Especially the Irish, yeah," another said. "They'd be mentool."

"Oh, no worries here. I'm an ally to all," you assured, "so do you know where I can rest for the night?"

"Babes!" the chav said excitedly, "I've got family in Birmingham! It's up norf, already on the way for yor travels! I'll text me nana so you can stay there fo free!"

"Babes," you said, you're cheap frugal ass getting hyped, "you're such a babe! Thanks girlie!"

You ended up dropping some money to take an Underground from London to Birmingham, because you then really realized your Crocs could only momentarily take you so far. Also, tat withdrawal wasn't doing you any favors. Anyway you enjoyed the ride, drinking some complimentary tea with your headphones in and disassociating as you looked out the window into the cement walls. You started to regret not bringing some sort of sweater because who would've thought a baby tee and Nike shorts would be enough. Shit was chilly.

You stepped off into the platform, feeling a strong GUST of wind rush past you. You first kinda enjoyed it like it was some sort of main character moment, but the moment that ghastly smell of smoke hit your nostrils - you went frozen like Mitch McConnell.

"Jeeeeeesus CHRIST!" you bellowed, "who fucking farted?"

You looked around, but soon became even more confused. Everyone was giving you the hardest stares you've ever received in your lifetime. But it wasn't their stares, no, you've been stared at before for worst things, it was cause of their - fits.

Everyone was dressed like some 1900s shit. It reminded you of the show Downton Abbey, the show your old boss Logan Roy used to binge. Little particles of what looked like dandruff floated around you and everything else just seemed gray.

"Wait, are you guys filming?" you asked in your bimbo self, smiling, "did I just walk onto set?"

No one replied. They really thought you were insane. There you were - rough looking, mid-withdrawal, I <3 Surfer Boys, old high school Nike shorts, Crocs, Five Below socks, Dollar Store sunnies, Hello Kitty-themed suitcase and Juicy bag, Elf bar in one hand and your phone with dangling earbuds wrapped around it. They were petrified.

You grew angry. You just stood there as they stood there too - both you and the Downton Abbey cosplayers were in a stand off.

"Okay whatever," you said, rolling your eyes. "Stay hating!"

You whipped around and began walking down the pavement, calling, or as the English say "ringing", that chav's nana. However, it rang and rang, you dialed and dialed, the lady was not picking up.

"Um, what the fuck?" you said looking down at your phone, "can this girl pick up?"

You continued to dial, your other hand to your waist like a Karen. You continued to look around as it rang, really impressed with the set.

It had been very foggy, and the cobblestone roads led down between old brick buildings where people in their 1920's costumes walked along, smoking and dodging the occasional explosion from the coal-burning coming from inside the buildings. Horses were trotting, carrying hay and other shit. People were yelling in their crazy accents and the dandruff kept raining down. Pillars up in the sky let out dark clouds of smoke. That gross exhaust smell still lingered, and no matter how much Nicki Minaj body spray you put on yourself, there was no way to mask it.

"Great. I'm homeless AGAIN!" you thought, giving up on that nana. "Whatever. I didn't even want a roof to sleep under anyway. C'est la vie honestly."

The stares did not cease. In fact, it got worse. You knew you were hot but like what the fuck can't a girl just walk and bitches mind their business?

Things were getting worse. The cobblestone ass road made it hard for you to pull your suitcase, so you were just essentially dragging it, you phone was on ten percent, you were hungry and thirsty because let's be real you did not eat much on that train, and honestly just over it.

You passed all the workers, dodged some random explosions, evaded random running children, spit some of that dandruff out of your mouth. Safe to say, you were angry but needed to persevere!

Eventually it was nighttime. You couldn't really tell if it was night or if it was just the pollution in the air at first, but after asking a random man he assured you it was indeed nighttime.

"I don't know how you guys live with all this dandruff," you told him, shaking your head. "You guys must be getting paid good as extras."

"Dandruff?" the man said, "that's ash, luv!"

"Thank god, that makes more sense. I was thinking I was gonna need to buy some Heads and Shoulders. I hate Heads and Shoulders."

He continued to look at you weird while he smoke his, what you were pretty sure in the span of you two talking, sixth cigarette. "Heads and shoulders? Fuck are they to do with your hair?"

"I know, horrible branding. I feel bad for the people in Pompeii. They probably thought it was like, a dandruff epidemic."

Eventually the man directed you to the Garrison, which was supposed to be this pub or whatever that all the locals hit up. You really just wanted a drink of water and like Taco Bell or something. Maybe a "Macky D's"? By the time you made it to the establishment, it was midnight, since you took forever cause you kept getting lost.

It was situated in a weird spot, where several men would occasionally run out and throw up bad on the dirt floor. It sounded hella noisy and rough in there, which was something you were not looking forward to. But again, you're hungry.

"I'm fucking starving," you thought to yourself as you pushed those heavy doors open, your suitcase getting caught in them. A surge of anger caused you to yank it past the swinging door, causing the it to slam against the wall and crack the glass. You got scared cause you didn't wanna pay for it, so you applied the "hear nothing, see nothing" tactic. It always worked <3

Nothing could've prepared you for when you entered. The energy was just not it. Heathrow vibes for sure. Hoards of drunk ass English men doing, well, things that drunk English men do. They were yelling, cursing, fighting, just being overall very annoying and overwhelming. It took you by surprise, you were just in awe that English were real. It was literally like a Call of Duty lobby but the English colonized it as they always do.

"These motherfuckers are crazy bro," you thought to yourself, getting a seat at the bar. The bartender made his way to you, and after some hesitation on his end, he finally spoke.

"Em, what can I get you, ma'am?" he asked, looking at you confused.

"Y'all got a menu?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Food, bro. I want food." You were not having it.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid there's just drinks here."

"Fine, fucking alcoholics," you said, holding in your hangriness, "what about water?"

"Huh," he thought, "no one ever asks for water. I forgot we served it!"

He turned around and as he began to pour some crusty water into a dusty glass, you felt a tap on your shoulder. But before you could even turn to ask what the fuck whoever wanted what, another big burly English drunk dude was all up in your face.

"ELLO MISS! MIGHT I HAVE A CHANCE AT BUYIN' YA A DRINK?"

You were flabbergasted. Dude REEKED of some ale.

"Uh, you stink," was all you could muster, pressing your fingers on your nose.

His face fell into a very angry one. "YOU FOOCKIN' JEZEBEL!"

You weren't sure what 'jezebel' meant so you just rolled your eyes and turned back to the new glass of water placed in front of you by the bartender, and before he could walk off you downed the entire thing. He, too, like McConnell, was frozen at your abilities.

"Sorry about that man, Miss," the bartender said as he poured you another. "You're very pretty. Must be getting used to it by now around here."

"Yeah, like, about that," you started, taking your time with the water this time because you didn't know how much they had left in this place, "why is everyone cosplaying? Like, people here are DEEP into their character, which, don't get me wrong - I respect. I used to be a theater major myself, so I get it. But this is like, crazy. I know the English love their theater, but god."

The bartender, with a hypothetical gun to his head, could not for the life of him understand what the fuck you meant. You kinda got that vibe when he didn't reply right away. He actually looked worried for your mental wellbeing.

"Um, why did you just like, disassociate?" you asked.

"I'm sorry, Miss," he chuckled nervously, "you've just confused me, is all."

"Yeah, all that alcohol is giving you that early onset dementia. Do you know where I can get food around here?"

"Hmm," he thought, "I don't really know, to be honest with ya. And it's quite late, so I'm not sure what's open."

You could cry. You hated being hungry and tired at the same time, added to literally everything else that was happening around you. You were able to tune out the drunken men yelling behind you, but only to a point - mama was close to blowing.

"Oh my GOD," you started. "WHAT'S A GIRL TO DO TO GET SOME FUCKING FOOD AROUND HERE?!" you caught yourself. The bartender was growing more concerned. "I'm sorry," you cleared your voice, "it's just like, your queen for real sucked."

"Queen?" he asked.

"Wow, you're really dedicated to the craft. Like I said, I respect." You continued to drink your water.

"How'd you end up here in London, anyway?" he asked, leaning against the counter. You later found out his name was Harry, like Styles.

"Oh, buddy," you said, "what a story I have for you."

You then began to blabber on about what brought you to this point, which helped because it made you forget about your current grievances. Soon, the entire pub went dead quiet, tuned in to your story time. You felt like Tana Mongeau, and these were your viewers. You get why the majority of YouTubers were lowkey conceited. (Not Tana though she's funny love you girl <3). It was like a big kindergarten story time.

About half an hour later, you were mid-way through.

"And so, when my boss literally fucking died, I was like, 'oh shit, I've like lost my job by like, proxy'? It was scary."

"How'd he pass?" one of the drunk men asked.

"Dude, get this. He died getting his phone out of the toilet. Like, some Elvis shit," realizing they wouldn't get what you just said, you thought it best to move right on, "anyway, I was like, 'maybe this is a good time to move on, maybe America isn't the place for me.' I was also wanted by the Men in Black, too. They don't fuck around."

"Who's the Men in Black?" Harry asked.

"The IRA were after ya?" another asked, in shock.

"I. R.S. It's not important. So, after he died, one of his kids had to be chosen to take over the company. Imagine like a Game of Thrones sort of thing. My on-and-off boyfriend, Kendall, is the oldest so you'd think it'd be him, right? Like, his name was underlined and everything. Or crossed out, you know, is the dress blue and black or white and gold? The day of, I snuck into the building for the board meeting. I wasn't supposed to be there, cause you know, I'm not a share holder or whatever, but I thought 'if I act like nothing happened, maybe technically I'm NOT fired cause my boss died, maybe nobody will say anything?' Confidence takes you a loooong way let me tell you! So at the board meeting, I voted Kendall, but his stupid home alone ass brother Roman was like 'oh YOU'RE still here?'. Then he told me to fuck off and that I should've died with Logan? Could you believe that?"

They were all in shock, muttering angry English curse words to each other.

"And then I was like, 'no fuck you. What ever happened to democracy? I don't have a vote?'. But whatever, Kendall didn't win and he left the building. No, Horton Hears a Who Tom won, and while everybody was celebrating I was like, 'guys? GUYS! ALL EYES ON WINDOWS! WHERE DID KENDALL GO? All eyes on windows!'. Then I got like, kicked out or whatever. I kept spamming Kendall, texting him and calling him and nothing. Like 'Kenny, wya???'. He was ghosting me. Then I saw right after he put his phone on Do Not Disturb. Targeted, really. I saw his location at Central Park, facing the water, and this had me WORRIED. Kendall and bodies of water? Yeah they don't mix well. I needed to talk to him before he jumped! But when I got there, his new dumbass body guard was like, 'Can you leave? He's not seeing anyone'. I kept calling him, and he wouldn't turn to look at me. He was like, mega dissociating watching that horizon."

"Must've killed him that he's no longer the number one boy," a drunken English man said, somber.

"Def," you said.

"So you and Kendall?" another asked.

"No more. He never picked up, so I thought we were done," the men in the bar were devastated. "Yeah, really sad. I already mourned, though. So, yeah, I was like, 'what do I do now?' Logan gave me some money, so I can really just do anything? I was walking down the streets of New York and saw a random man in a suit I thought was the IRS, and it hit me - I'm lowkey a fugitive? I need to like, leave. Logan isn't there to protect me anymore, you know? And then it hit me - I'll go to Scotland! In Logan's honor! Like, his hometown. Plus, I thought Scotland didn't have extradition, but it was actually Venezuela. But it's okay, same shit. And that's why I'm here."

"But this is Birmingham?" another man said.

"Oh, yeah, don't worry I fully aware. But yeah, that's it."

Again, the pub had been silent. They'd been intrigued, captivated. You waited for someone to speak up and break the silence, but about two minutes later you realized that wasn't gonna happen.

"Okay? Anyway, so nothing to eat here?" you asked Harry.

He shook his head, stunned. You then slowly crept off the chair, gathered your shit and saw your way out. "Weirdos," you thought.

You exited back out, it was now fully dark with few lampposts shining light onto the falling dandruff. It all reminded you of exactly where you were - stuck.

You slumped against the wall, onto the ground where you didn't see any of the mud that splashed all over your shorts. You were too tired and over it to give a fuck. You pulled out your phone, and saw the battery on 2%.

"Man FUCK!" you exclaimed, "I know damn well none of these Lin Manuel Miranda stans built an electric socket."

You went on to scroll mindlessly through your feed, which barely loaded because of the lack of signal. You were in the middle of spamming the refresh button until you received a notification from Snapchat that read, "One Year Ago Today". You clicked it open, forgetting you still had that app downloaded, and its contents nearly pushed you over the edge to start balling.

You clicked play.

"Oh, don't be a pussy, Greggguh!"

"Mumusdsfjks," Greg said, shoving more marshmallows into his mouth, "Chubb Bunif."

"Sorry, buddy, couldn't hear you!" Tom said, giddy, shoving his own marshmallow down Greg's mouth.

"You got it Greg!" you heard yourself say.

You wanted to cry. You wished you could just go back to Waystar in that moment, playing the Chubby Bunny challenge with gay lovers Tom and Greg.

"Man, I miss them," you thought. But alas, that was all gone now...

You quickly closed the video, going to your bank app to see how much money remained. After all, Logan DID leave you with enough, but you couldn't help yourself on those McDonald's breakfast orders through Uber Eats.

Your tears quickly evaporated like they were put through the snap of Thanos when you got a glance of your credit score though. Oh no.

"OH MY GOD?!??! MY CREDIT IS AT 400????!!? I'M LIKE, FUCKED?!???!"

"What's a credit score?"

You nearly shit yourself at the deep, sullen voice. You looked up and let's just say - you were intimidated. It's the terrorist dude from Red Eye. He wore a flat cap and a tweed little suit type of fit.

But it wasn't the tweed that had you transfixed - no, it was those eyes....they were familiar. The last time you felt power of being in a trance like that were those Furbies... it forced you to look at them, you had lost all ability of self-control. They made you question yourself, your purpose and whole life being. They were commanding you with their uncanny valley vibe. Their immense gravity caused all time to slow...

"Dude, put those away!" you yelled, forcing your eyes shut and looking away.

He didn't reply.

"I'm sorry," you giggled, realizing he wasn't gonna reply to you and instead just stood there. "I'm just really hungry. You got anything?"

He thought for a moment. "Actually...we don't eat." He had a little sassy, matter-of-factly tone of speaking you fucked with heavily.

"Yeah, that's why your official dish is tikka masala," a glance of that dish popped into your head. "Man I could fuck that up right now."

"I can take you to my office, I might have something there," he said. You agreed right after, anything would have to do. Little did you know, this would be the man who would save you. Not in a self-fulfilling sense but he'd grab you something to eat.

You two made it to his office, some ways away. It was just a big ass dark room with tables in the middle, which you would later find out the betting on his horse racing took place.

You sat down and he took off his coat and goofy ass hat, then went to the back for a moment. You looked around, you felt like you were in a dungeon. You looked down to your phone - shit was dead.

He came back moments later, with a single loaf of bread he placed in front of you. He then took a seat across from you, took out a cigarette and did what the English do best, smoke.

You were a bit taken aback, and it definitely showed, since his little sassy face got more sassier.

"Well?" he bellowed, motioning to the food.

"Honestly," you started, not wanting to offend cause he did scare you (in a hot way), "I don't know what more I was expecting. I know Panera bread when I see it."

You began to eat, he just watched you. You would be annoyed had this been anyone else, but man was too fine.

Some minutes went by, and he just smoked while you ate. He was definitely a man of few words.

"You're so mysterious," you said. "Is that your character?"

He took in a big puff and put his feet up on the table like he owned the place, cause he literally did. "You don't belong here."

"Yeah, no fucking shit. I'm supposed to be in Scotland."

"What's in Scotland?" he asked, tapping his cigarette into an empty whiskey glass.

"Bagpipes, I've heard."

He then leaned to the side, grabbing his cigarette case out and offering you one. You declined.

"It's okay, I don't like cigarettes. They're gross," you went inside your bag and pulled out your crusty geriatric Elf Bar that was on life support, "here, try this! She's my sidekick!"

He stared at it, not a thought behind those eyes. He then rose up.

"What about a whiskey, eh?" He went to a table against the wall and poured two glasses. You shrugged at his decline of your Elf Bar, and took some shitty hits cause girl it's dead give it up.

As he had his back to you pouring the glasses, you really thought about how manly he was, in a way all those Ryan Gosling Drive stans love. He reminded you of those mafia boss fanfics you used to read. The way he spoke was so low and serious, but it made your feet rock like crazy!

He turned back around and placed your glass in front of you. Before he sat, he took a swing of his and literally drank it all in one shot like an animal. Wanting to impress him, you did the same, but soon regretted it right after. You'd tried whiskey before, but that was just not good. It was so strong it burned your esophagus, causing you to feel like you had strep throat all over again. You nearly gagged and threw it up but you couldn't let Tommy see you that way. He was staring.

"Jesus Christ," you said in a raspy, chain smoker voice, trying to smile through the pain, "that's some real shit right there. I'd much prefer a BuzzBall."

"What brings you to the UK?" he asked again, a little more interrogating.

"Fine. I'm avoiding parole."

"Parole?"

"Have you ever been on parole?" you asked.

He took a moment, your question hit hard. "Ever since men like me got back from France, we've always felt we were on parole under the king." He had a sadness to it, which then made you kinda sad.

"Aww, you're a parole baby <3."

He rose his brows in a "yeah this girl off it" way.

"Does France give you bad memories?" you asked, wanting to know both out of being a nosy bitch and seeing if you could break him.

"Most nights," he said.

"Don't worry, me too."

"You served?"

"I might has well have," you replied, thinking of that past life living with your old boyfriend.

"I wasn't aware women served."

"We always do," you assured. You kept looking into his eyes like it was a staring contest.

"What's it you're looking at?"

"You have a very, no-nonsense cunty face. Like BBL," you first smiled telling him that, but it then reminded you of when you told your old boyfriend Kendall the same thing. The thought of him made you sad, you wondered where your number one boy was now...

You didn't realize but Tommy noticed your change in demeanor, initially believing you were thinking about your time during the war in France. He rose and grabbed another drink, placing one in front of you as he killed his in less than a second.

You snapped out of your sadness. "Oh, no thanks. I don't think I can have anymore. This trip will definitely be very detoxing for me."

You two then sat in comfortable silence for some time, as if you two were both mourning after the innocence lost before France. You were something different for him, a new comfort he couldn't find much else in that polluted ass city. And you found comfort in him, he really did seem like he needed fixing. But that's not what you do, no no, he's a grown ass man and can fix himself. You'll just watch from the sidelines <3.

Eventually, you stayed in Birmingham. Once you were aware that your money had no value in the UK, you realized you needed to be employed again to save up for Scotland. Dollars, turns out, did not equal shillings and pounds or whatever. Tommy hooked you up after finding out your situation and generously gave you a job at the Garrison as a barmaid, along with Harry, who in time, became your BFF. It wasn't that hard of a job, these men never mixed any drinks and would instead have their alcohol straight like a bunch of monsters, so you kinda ate at this job. Another perk was that these 1920s bitches loved thin eyebrows, so your Y2K overplucked eyebrows fit right in! Full circle shit!

But perhaps the best perk was when Tommy would come in every so often and give you a little LOOK. Oh that shit made you rabid yes it did! It made you all hot down there and you couldn't handle it! You two barely spoke, as he would go into the side room for meetings and whatever mumbo jumbo he got up to with his brothers, but when you did you did your best to bring out that old femme fatale. You knew damn well he'd fuck that shit up. And let's be real so did you.

You knew that you had Tommy in your CLUTCH when he was once lecturing you - basically there was talk about some Billy Kimber dude amongst him and his brothers and the members of the gang, but you couldn't get past how fun it was to say the man's name, especially in their wild ass accent. You kept incessantly shouting it, to what you thought was a joke, "BILLY FACKIN KIMBA" in every possible moment you could, but it would send all the men into a paranoid shock thinking Billy boy was just around the corner. Obviously, he wasn't, in fact you couldn't point out who Billy Kimber was in a crowd of English, but let's just say - it sent them for a sheer panic. They would constantly tell Tommy to get you to stop, since it was bringing back war trauma basically and never felt fear like that since the war. You personally thought they were being a bunch of pussies but whatevs.

Anyway Tommy found you at the bar after closing and wanted to have a serious talk with you - no more random BILLY FACKIN KIMBA. As he was lecturing you on the dangers of it, you actually started to disassociate in those eyes of his. You then started to think,

"What if I just grabbed his hat?"

Those intrusive thoughts grew stronger and stronger as the moments flew by and the more his voice became a bunch of muffled nothing. And they won.

"GOTCHA HAT!" you spat before taking his flat cap off and running with it, jumping over the bar on some parkour shit and pushing those doors open onto the grimy streets of Birmingham, in an excited manic. You ran for nothing, since you didn't notice in the adrenaline of it all he didn't move an inch and instead just stood at the bar, stumped. From that point on, he knew you weren't like other girls. Cause let's be real who in their right fucking mind would do that to Tommy Shelby? You did girl xoxo <3

But when your image with Tommy REALLY hit home for the guy, it was one night. One very special night...

You were working the night shift at the Garrison, again. It was another rainy day in London Town, and you were all alone cleaning up. You started to think about Gabbie Hanna, and how low key right she was. You continued to rap to yourself,

"♪ Overwhelmed, overworked, overpaid. I'm on top of the world sitting pretty ♪ -"

The doors flew open, causing you to jump pretty high up. You looked to the entrance, it was Tommy. And man was drenched and tired looking, your fave combo.

He walked over, behind the bar and poured himself a glass of whiskey. He was always a little emo and to himself, but something about him now was really depressing, like man's definitely going through it.

He then took a seat at a table, and looked at you with dead eyes.

"What's with the frown?" you asked, trying to lighten up the mood but was severely unsuccessful. (Unbeknownst to you he literally just had to put down a horse he thought was cursed :/ it's a canon event!)

He didn't reply. Surprise surprise instead he just drank his whiskey done. You chewed your gum, clueless.

You just continued to clean, continuing Gabbie's rhyme in your head.

"♪ Overwhelmed, overwork, underpaid ♪ -"

"Can you sing?"

You turned around again. He fr sounded sad asf. It shocked you, cause did he like, read your mind or sum?

"Uh, yeah. You want me to sing?"

"Every barmaid knows how to sing."

"Okay, sure. Like acapella?"

He just stared at you, lost again with your mumbo jumbo.

"Well, I know Lana, I know Nicki, my ex had a song L to the OG-"

"Lana. She sounds nice."

You nodded. "She really is, I love her. Okay, I think I know a song."

"Stand up there," he pointed to a table. You were a bit hesitant, the last time you did that you ate shit like that one girl on YouTube who was also singing on a table and ate shit. But it was for Tommy so you did so anyway.

You climbed up, took out your gum, flicked it in a bucket, cleared your throat, moved your hair out of your face, and fixed your posture - this was your Pose moment tonight, and Tommy's Billy Porter.

You then started to sing White Mustang by Lana, but the moment you got to the chorus, which was, well, White Mustang, he told you to stop.

"Something else, please," he asked demanding yet softly.

"What? Too close to home? Don't worry, Lana does that," you assured, "here, I'll sing a song that hits close to me, it's called How to disappear, it's what do when I'm trying to run from the IRS."

You cleared your throat again and started to sing and girl you ATE THAT SHIT!!!!!

You hit those fucking notes, you were lost in your little own world envisioning yourself in a music video. You understood why America's Got Talent contestants were nervous, cause the pressure? Yeah it's real. And not only is Tommy Billy Porter, he's also Simon Cowell - a yes from that Brit would secure your spot.

Speaking OF Tommy, because momentarily you forgot he was there with you - the man was enthralled, ENCHANTED. He sat silently, the rainwater dripping down his face, as he was taking in every small gesture you made, taking in every musical note that came out of your BBL mouth, (even the voice cracks), and just taking, well, you in. At that very moment, he was in love. YOU were the femme fatale he needed in his life, the one that would complete him, make him feel whole, and would give him purpose.

Once you were finished, you snapped back into reality and realized you actually weren't in a music video. You looked to Tommy, whose face barely made any other emote other than the one where he looked like he was annoyed, staring up at you. A wave of anxiety flooded over you - you were the center of his world right now, and that pressure was too hot!

You quickly climbed down, and flashed him a big smile.

"So?" you asked, now LITERALLY feeling more grounded on the ground.

He didn't respond at first. Moments later, he did.

"Do you have something nice to wear?"

"Like what?"

"A dress?"

"Um," you thought, trying to remember the contents of your Hello Kitty-themed suitcase, "maybe. Why?"

He rose up, getting ready to leave from the fear and insecurity of the emotions he just experienced. "I want to take you to the races."

"We're gonna race?"

"Horses. Horse races," he corrected you, making his way to the exit. "Be ready by tomorrow, I'll collect you before noon."

"Oh my god, like a date?" you were too slow to come to the conclusion because by that time he'd already left. The excitement quickly mixed in with the anxiety, which wasn't the best feeling in the world. You knew in anticipation for tomorrow you were gonna need SOMETHING to take the edge off, so before closing up you snatched some bottles of alcohol to take to your flat. You weren't really sure what exactly they were, but what you did know was that it was gonna taste like fucking ass. But when mama needs her go go juice, she TAKES her go go juice.

The following morning you woke up at the crack ass of dawn to get ready - you knew you needed TIME. Not that it takes a while for you to get all pretty, girl you're already naturally stunning! but time and place - you needed to stunt today. Also, you already weren't a morning person so you didn't trust yourself to snooze. Actually, you barely slept at all last night since you were too caught up about what makeup you were gonna do, how you were gonna style your hair, what dress to wear and most of all, your ass was just asked out by Tommy. You wondered if this is how nervy the soldiers felt when they encountered bin Laden's bunker.

You had already finished your makeup and hair, looking pretty snatched. Too bad your phone's been dead for the past couple of weeks and you couldn't take pictures. But anyway you did the usual 1920's makeup tutorial you remember watching on some Buzzfeed video a while ago, pretending you were doing a Vogue makeup tutorial in your mirror and talking step by step your process. You curled your hair into the 1920's bob they were obsessed with back then, packing on an obscene amount of gel just to keep that wave stiff. You struggled but nonetheless you got it girl.

You were now staring at the remaining contents of your Hello Kitty-themed suitcase - let's just say, you had nothing. That's a lie you did have SOMETHING but was it appropriate for the time? No. Like if you're going to the Renaissance Fair, your ass isn't gonna wear some Skims ass dress. But guess what? That's actually all you had.

It was a black, tight, spaghetti-strap slip-on dress that was above the knee - definitely NOT the vibe for the era, maybe a bit too revealing? But what other choice do you have? You're I <3 Surfer Boys tee? Exaaaaactly.

You slipped it on and was taken aback - you know how you forget how good you look when it's been a while since you've dressed up and you actually surprise yourself? Yeah that was you right now. Kim would be proud to see you in that dress, in fact, she'd probably cheer you on to wear it proudly at the races. Even though she wasn't your favorite sister, you imagining her company right now really did help.

You kept feeling yourself in the mirror - girl you looked GOOD. You put on some black heels, some perfume and that was it - you were simply that bitch now.

"Oh my god," you thought to yourself, "Tommy's gonna flip. Shit, I'd get with me."

And just like that, you heard the honks of a car coming from outside your flat. You peered through the window, and there you saw some vintage, rinky dink ass car.

"Oh, fuck!" you shouted, mainly to yourself, but they heard. "Coming!" you called out the window.

It was actually happening - oh fuck he's here oh yes he is. Quickly, you grabbed one of the bottles you confiscated and took the fattest swig. It was the most horrendous, grotesque warm vodka you've ever consumed. But it would have to do.

You quickly made it downstairs, taking a moment before appearing outside to calm yourself down and make it seem as if you effortlessly just went down some stairs without a care or worry in the world. You made sure to grab a fur coat, faux of course, and your keys.

Down by the car was Tommy in the driver's seat, with his two brothers, Arthur and John, seated in the back. They all looked at you in awe - they had never seen so much of a woman's legs in their entire life.

"Bloody foockin' hell, Tommy! What do we have here?!" Arthur exclaimed.

"Jesus, Tommy," said John, "I didn't think it was bloody possible for you!"

Tommy stared at you for a few seconds longer, a bit taken aback himself.

Tommy ignored his brothers and exited his side, helping you into the passenger's. You got a whiff of his cologne that brought out an animalistic, innate horndogness of you that you remembered to keep in check. Now was not the time but it was admittedly hard cause the man just looked so good.

He climbed back into his side, then started driving off, the cobblestone road causing you to feel even more nauseous than you already did. You didn't realize it, but you were mute for the first ten minutes from how disassociated you were. That vodka was hitting deep and swimming in circles in your empty tummy - you hadn't had breakfast, essentially raw dogging and running on nothing, because you knew if you munched on some Panera bread, you would've thrown it up from the nervousness. You were now really accepting the fact that it was a grave mistake.

"Well, what's wrong with her?" Arthur bellowed, "is her bloody tongue cut off?"

Tommy gave you a quick little side eye, then fully turned to you after realizing you were, indeed, gone.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concerned with a TOUCH of attitude. Or maybe they were both the same you couldn't differentiate it when it came to Tommy.

"Uh, yeah," you cleared your throat and sat up straight, "just really taking in the moment, you know? It's my first race."

Tommy turned back to the road.

"You guys look great!" you complimented, wanting to move on.

"Why thank you, Miss Y/N. I shall wear your kind words like a medal from tha war," said Arthur. "You look like one of them silent film stars!"

You blushed. "So, wanna listen to some music?" you suggested, hating sitting in quiet cars.

Tommy scrunched his brows. "What do you mean?"

You looked down to where the touchscreen on the car WOULD be, forgetting this car was quite literally just a box on wheels with an engine attached. AUX and Bluetooth are not in the vocabulary of these people's brains for another couple more decades.

"Like, carpool karaoke," you suggested.

"What?" John asked.

"Bloody hell is that?" Arthur also asked. You also forgot, these English men wouldn't face the atrocity that is James Corden in ALSO a couple more decades.

Tommy scoffed, a small little smile on his face but nonetheless a smile. He gets it. "Singing. She likes to sing."

"Is that right?" smiled Arthur, "wow, you've really done a number on Tommy boy over here! He's now a fan of the musical arts!"

The two brothers began laughing and smacking Tommy on the shoulders and head in a playful, men-in-a-gang, manner. He smirked.

"I'll start, I have the perfect song - this one's called Off To The Races," you turned to Tommy, "also by Lana."

You two smiled at the little inside joke y'all had going on now. You then started singing, really into it like the night before. You were hitting those "scarlet, starlet" notes a little too good. Once you wrapped up, you left the three men in a silence that lasted for a couple minutes. Except Tommy, he was always silent. But his brothers were a little confused, but decided to just roll with it since you made Tommy happy. You thought they were just floored by your abilities.

"Lovely," John finally said, hesitant and low to break the silence.

"You've got yourself a bloody mental one here, Tommy," said Arthur. Tommy smiled, you were indeed a little unwell but it was okay to him. So was he <3

It had been about an hour after your arrival, you had been helping yourself to a shit ton of food by a table, stocking up like a bear ready for hibernation. You were literally the only one there, and you assumed so because the cigarettes and alcohol these Brits were fucking up were acting as appetite suppressants. Your fat ass wasn't complaining.

Besides being the only one actually eating something of nutritional value, you were getting HEAVY looks and side eyes for your outfit. You didn't care, your ass looked good from all the walking around the pub you've been doing. Upon entering, Tommy noticed the looks to. You whispered in his ear, "it's cause none of these interbred Habsburg jaws know what a real woman a real BITCH looks like 💅."

He didn't get exactly what you meant, but got the vibe and he liked it. He, actually, loved that you were the center of attention here, as you SHOULD be. Afterwards, he told you he had some business to attend to and knowing you were hungry, led you to the food table. He said he'd get you after he was done, and man was taking his time. But again you didn't care you were just munching away.

"Try the scone, darling, it's absolutely dashing!" a rich, socialite said to you. Her costume was just as amazing as everyone else.

"You know, I've been avoiding it but, maybe I will. Why not?" you smiled, grabbing one and taking a chomp. It tasted like actual ass but you have a great poker face. You moaned like Mark Weins, even hitting his crazy facial expressions. "It's great!" you mumbled. She smiled and talked on about something you didn't really pay attention to.

Eventually, Tommy came up behind you and grabbed your arm gently. Had this been any other man, you would've pistol whipped them in the face with the rock of a scone in your hand, but it was Tommy so you just got all the butterflies inside. You turned and smiled, chewing your food and swallowing it almost hole to say something and not just stand there.

"Fhey Tomyif," you mumbled through the dry scone.

"Feeling better, eh?" he said in a low tone. He seem a little more cheery, which made you cheery. He was enjoying himself, as he should. And so were you, as you should. Let's just say, the vibes were good.

"Omg, def," you said, finally swallowing the last bit of food, "you know, you should try eating something. I know you don't do it much, but, I feel like it can be a great experience for you."

He looked into your eyes. He loved that you cared. A soft smile came on his lips.

"Not hungry."

You thought for a minute. "But like, I'm pretty sure you haven't eaten since France."

"Maybe later. Do you dance?"

"Do I dance? With a little spicy marg in me, Tommy, it's over." But alas, the bartender would have no clue what a spicy marg was, so you kinda had to retract your statement, "But no yeah I can dance sober too no biggy."

"Good," he said, grabbing your hand gently and leading you to the crowded dance floor. You turned back to wave at the socialite lady, who gave you a little wink. My girl knew you scored.

All you knew was that the Brits LOVED their Charleston dancing, something that you definitely needed Just Dance to teach you. But she wasn't here. You were frightened at the thought, but when Tommy pulled you in, and you two just started going at it, it was as natural as your BBL ass. That one Pride and Prejudice dancing sequence had you mastered in the art.

With his hand at your waist and the other in your hand, and your other hand around his neck feeling his buzzcut, there was no force on this earth that could stop you. You honestly just moved your legs around and were great.

Up close to him, you were again in touch with his cologne. You needed to control yourself, but it didn't help that he was like three inches from your face. In this sea of people, it just felt like you two and no one else.

As you two were fucking up that dance floor to that 1920s jazz music, you looked around at the other faces of people dancing around you. Some you caught staring, others pretended not to. You smiled at the fact your hot ass was intimidating.

"Man, if I were to do the Woah here, they'd all lose their fucking minds," you thought. "What if I like, just started twerking? No, I can't. I can't let them win." You knew those intrusive thoughts cannot get another W against you again. The last time that happened, you were expelled from theater school. You couldn't, you couldn't embarrass Tommy - but the urge was too strong.

Almost as if Tommy read your mind, he pulled you aside the dance floor.

"I want to introduce you to someone," he said. He then took you to a table where a man with the craziest middle part and mustache sat, beside another who looked like an owl with glasses and other carbon copies of English dudes. At the table was a fuck ton of coins and money, along with drinks and clouds of cigarette smoke from ashtrays.

"Y/N, this is Billy Kimber. He owns the tracks here," Tommy said. Oh my god it's him, its Billy fackin Kimba...

You weren't sure why Tommy would introduce you, but you took it as a compliment. Maybe he just wanted to stunt on this guy? Who knows.

The man with the goofy ass fucking name had a wry grin on his face that you did not like at all. The vibe was not good no more around this guy. He stuck out his hand to you, and you obliged very hesitantly. He grabbed your hand and kissed it. With that a wave of disgust flew over you, feeling as though you've been stained. Ew gross.

"Lovely ta meet ya," the man said. He rose, "Mista Shelby, might I ask your lady for a dance?"

"Oh, no thanks! <3" you said, a welcoming smile on your face. Tommy and Billy both looked at you as if you just said the most out of pocket shit. The owl man and English robots also gave you daring looks.

"Wot?" Kimber spat.

You almost laughed.

"Uh, yeah like, I don't wanna dance." you said, mimicking Tana Mongeau's "a bleach and tone".

Billy saw absolute red. He was livid. He turned to Tommy, who, too, was speechless.

"The fuck are you on about?" Billy spat again. You really weren't sure what he didn't understand.

You then realized - there was no getting out of this. You didn't want to cause a scene, cause you kinda already did. So you again invited those intrusive thoughts.

"Fine," you said, clearing your throat and standing straight. "I'll dance."

You then pretended to throw something in the air, looking up in an anticipatory, worried way. They all looked up too, confused.

"Oh my god, do you see it? Mr. Kimber, where is it?!" you said as if a bomb were to fall.

He looked up and then to you, growing increasingly worried. He was too in shock to speak.

"Where is it?! Where is it?! Do you see it?!" you kept looking up at basically nothing, but you knew it was something. You kept them on their toes, scared at this point. Your feet dancing softly, they were ready for impact. It was time to come down. "There! There it is and -"

With that, you pulled it down and committed the hardest, most nastiest Woah you've ever done. The last time it was that riveting was during middle school lunches.

When you brought that down, the pose you ended on had your head down and body limp, as if you were Aang in the Avatar state during the episode where he was fighting Zuko's papa and had to unlock and harness such force.

You left them taken aback, disoriented. They didn't know what to do or how to react. You looked fucking insane.

You took a deep breath and stood back up straight, satisfied. Once you realized that the room had fallen completely silent, even the musicians, you felt you needed to excuse yourself.

"Um, so," you struggled to find the words. You felt the anxiety creeping up again, the lightheadedness arising. And most of all, it was time for you to empty yourself. "I've, uh," you thought harder and harder - "I'VE GOT AN ITCHY BUM!"

You split, running and running as fast as your pumps could take you. You ran and ran, it was always the most liberating activity honestly. All that dancing with Tommy, the nerves piled up along with the hors d'oeuvres - they lead to this very moment.

You searched round and round, desperately for a bathroom. No where in this bitch was there a sign or indication, and time was running slim. This was some real Mission Impossible, Tom Cruise is on a time crunch, shit. You pushed through crowds of drunk, belligerent and yelling people, feeling your body slowly succumb to the intense body heat.

Eventually, you spotted a familiar face. You ran.

"Arthur!" you yelled. He spun and looked back to you.

"Y/N! What is it?" he asked, worried. You looked a bit wild. "Are you alright? Where's Tommy?"

"He's fine, he's," you thought, "somewhere. Look, it doesn't fucking matter."

"The mouth on you -"

"Where the fuck is the bathroom in this bitch? Huh? The loo? The toilet? The washroom whatever the fuck y'all call it?"

"Well, I was on me way. It's just over there -" he pointed and you bolted.

As you were entering, you literally ran full force into the socialite from earlier. She wasn't angry, just like Arthur, worried.

"You look absolutely GHASTLY darling!"

"Girl move -"

You went into one of the stalls and laid your worst. Thankfully since it was a Skims dress, all you had to do was pull your Victoria Secret thong off and go. You felt bad for the ladies in their dresses and stockings and shit here - convenience was definitely not a factor yet.

After you cleared your business, (and subsequently the whole bathroom), you stepped out of your stall, refreshed and effortless. You washed your hands, fixed your hair and makeup just a bit in the mirror, and felt yourself again. You took mental selfies, since it was all you had.

As you left the bathroom, you heard the grunts and yells of men. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence, but it sounded like some shit was fr going down. You crept to the source of the noise, coming from the men's bathroom. At first, you thought someone was probably constipated, but instead it was Arthur, John and a few others absolutely rocking this guy's shit. They were beating him, cutting him with the razors sewn into their goofy caps, and curb stomping his head into the sink. So sink stomping?

You made a gross face and walked back out. "Yeesh."

After all, it wasn't the first time you were so close to the mob.

You remember your number one golden rule you learned from earlier during your time with Pablo: Hear nothing, see nothing!

After walking past the dance floor again, you were relieved to see that everyone and everything had gone back to normal - people were back to dancing, drinking and chatting - back to the script. You actually forgot this was supposed to be a horse race.

But, there was no Tommy anywhere. You searched and searched, yet you couldn't find that 75% shaved head anywhere.

You then walked back outside by the entrance, where you saw a woman smoking. You went up to her.

"May I bum a smoke?" you asked in your best English accent, trying to speak their language. She turned to you and pulled one out, lighting it for you. "Thank you so much, you look lovely, darling."

The woman smiled. You loved hyping the girls up!

"You too. I must admit, I find your choice in wardrobe absolutely admirable and daring!"

You smiled, "Aww, really?" you quickly corrected your accent, "Oh dear, many thanks, many thanks yes."

You took a hit of that cigarette. Shit was gross. But when in Rome...

You and the woman spoke for some time, deep in conversation. It was refreshing to meet another girl here, safe to just talk shit and have a break from all the drunken men and oh no there's Tommy.

You saw him approaching you and he looked again, upset and emo. It didn't exactly burst your bubble, you really liked Tommy, but were afraid that you possibly embarrassed him in front of the Bilbo Timberland from earlier.

You bided the woman goodbye and walked towards Tommy. He then took you two back to his car and started off onto the road. By now, it was nearing evening. The car ride was pretty silent, you were looking out admiring the brief countryside. Shit was beautiful like a Microsoft Home Screen.

"So, what's wrong?" you asked. "You're like, down in the dumps again. And where are your brothers?"

"They'll find their own way home," Tommy said, low and serious, the usual.

"So is that it? Y'all got into a fight or something?"

He let out a deep breath. "I told Billy Kimber he could have a dance with you."

"Ew, why?"

"Well," he didn't want to say 'business', cause like okayyyyy shout out to 1920's gender roles!, "because you look...nice. You look pretty."

You blushed hard, trying to control your smile. Seeing this side of Tommy was like a sneak peak, it was so exclusive!

"Oh my god, Tommy, are you flirting with me? I didn't even know you had that setting available!"

He smirked, his frown OFFICIALLY being turned upside down. He chucked in disbelief of himself. He was falling.

Once you made it back to the neighborhood, the sun had gone down and the streets were once again pretty dark. Smoky depressing England like what the Smiths wrote about you get the vibe.

Anyway he took you to his flat, saying that he wanted to "show you something". You weren't sure what that something was, it could've honestly been like a dead body but actually it wasn't! It was dinner <3

"I've uh," he started, not crazy about the fact that he was falling for you, "I've prepared dinner."

You gasped and made a very soy ass face. How absolutely gentlemanly of him!

"Oh my god, no you didn't Tommy!" you said, "You're so sweet, that's like, so sweet! You shouldn't have!"

He smiled softly, in a "yeah I did that" sort of way. And he did just that. You were 90% sure whatever was inside he didn't cook, but it's the THOUGHT that counts!

He escorted you inside like the gentlemen he was, shutting the front door behind you two. The lights inside the flat were dim, and by the table were two plates. Upon closer inspection, you were absolutely FLOORED!!!!

"No way - tikka fucking masala?!" you exclaimed. He chuckled and it was hot.

You walked closer and saw two very familiar, VERY FAMILIAR, colorful orbs. You turned them to the side. All this time since you'd last seen one, you forgot what they were or looked like.

"AND FUCKING BUZZBALLS?!?!?!" you said. "Tommy, how the fuck did you even get these?"

He pulled the chair out for you, and you scooted your big fat butt in.

"I know people. It's my job."

You couldn't help but smirk.

"It's so hot when a man has connections," your dirty Jezebel mind thought.

He cracked the BuzzBalls opened and poured them for each of you, like it was some high end expensive ass champagne. You watched him, relishing in the moment - you had your GRIP on this man. Chivalry was in fact, despite popular belief, not dead. But it was also the 1920s so you forgot about that bit.

You looked down at your plate - you were going to fuck. this. up. He'd never seen this side of you - the side that would tear your meal like a fucking ape cracking open a coconut with a rock for water. You thought if you should warn him, but told yourself - he needs to know ME for ME.

You gripped that naan, grabbed a fat ass chunk of that chicken - and the moment it hit your lips, you had started giggling like Mark Weins again but subtract the poker face. You had forgotten the long lost love of spice other than pepper and salt. You could've cried if it hadn't been for the fact your makeup looked too good.

You two dined and wined (there's no wine) for the next hour, talking and talking and chewing and chewing. Seeing him eat was hard for your mind to process, you just never thought he was capable of it. Anyway as he was talking you felt bad because you were zoning out looking at him as if he was another dish of tikka masala. He had such a sigma vibe to him, maybe alpha? (I don't know I'm not familiar with gym bro brain rot TikTok lingo but you get the vibe.) He was just so manly and yet so gentle and calculating, it kinda scared you because like he could literally have everything set up to kill you right now and you wouldn't know cause you were too charmed. But then you realized, he wouldn't have done all this shit for someone he wanted dead. No girl, he just wanted YOU! Your toes tickled at the thought, and those butterflies? They were fluttering.

For the first time, you had anxiety but hadn't felt the need to shit yet. You weren't sure if it was the alcohol calming your nerves, or the chill vintage ambience going on, or Tommy's comfortable/intimidating presence. In other words, this felt natural and you were fucking with it.

There were several times you needed to burp, but forgetting you weren't with your girls, you had to swallow that shit deep. After all, girls don't burp. You tried to keep your femme fatale composure.

You were the light he needed in his very dark emo life. It had been a very long time since he had a genuine laugh, despite the fact he might have had no idea what the fuck you were talking about or saying half the time, but seeing you all bubbly and happy made him feel content. He was finally being vulnerable, letting go a little and just, well, living life. Being free. #livelaughlove

"What will you do? When you've saved enough for Scotland?" he asked.

The idea brought you down a bit. You forgot about that shit. "Oh, well, I don't know. I kinda like the barmaid stuff, so maybe I'll try to find something similar there?"

You were eating his leftovers. He didn't eat much but liked watching you eat like it was a mukbang. He loved a girl who eats.

"Why don't you stay?" he asked, avoiding eye contact with you as he poured himself another BuzzBall. You could tell he wasn't a fan but drank it anyway for you because you liked it.

You again couldn't help but smirk. You loved seeing a guy CRACK!!!

"Do you want me to?" you asked, biting your tongue like the white mom. You hadn't done that in a while either, this English life didn't permit it.

He took a sip from his drink. "Perhaps you'd be interested in working for me."

"Aren't I already, low-key though?"

"Garrison's not mine," he said. "Do you know anything about bookkeeping?"

He lit a cigarette and offered you one. You took it, not wanting to offend.

"Well, I gotta tell you," you said, "math is NOT my forte. But oh my god yes babe thanks!"

You ran over and jumped to hug him, he hugged tightly back, he then threw you on the hard table, pushing everything to the floor and you felt his member pressed against your leg. He began kissing you, his tongue licking your lips for entrance. You let him in. Your tongues fought for dominance but you let him win. He eventually started going down on you, taking your Skims dress clean off, and started kissing your labia.

"This...this is a bloody fucking labia," he says.

You lifted your legs as he began to eat you out, his wet breath on your cooter. He held your foot up and raised himself, ready to press his member into your entrance. Your eyes were closed, ready to take the boy from Birmingham in. This is it. No missed flights, no drunk men to call you Jezebels, no lung cancer from cigarettes and factory smoke, no IRS or IRA, nothing - just you and Tommy.

You and Tommy laid on his bed, in each other's arms. Since his bed was high-key smaller than a twin, it was pretty cramped, but neither of you minded. You two were smoking (him a cigarette and you your Elf bar), reminding you of that one band Cigarettes after Sex and how Tommy would've liked them, but they wouldn't drop music for another couple years in this time zone.

You two talked softly as the rain patterned on the window's glass, some of the street lights peering through the curtain. If there was some incense on, it'd be a vibe. You originally thought his opium pipe was an incense holder but you were very mistaken.

" - so yeah, that's why people picked team Jolie. But in all honesty, I feel bad for Jennifer, you know? Like, he literally cheated on her. Over what? A fucky boof ass movie? It was ass," you hit your Elf bar, refusing to accept it was dead. "I guess it doesn't matter now, cause NONE of them are together anymore. So what do you think? Aniston or Jolie?"

He took a drag of cigarette as he stared at the ceiling. He made an unsure face.

"I'm not familiar with them."

"True. Fine, let me think of something you'd know. Like something English drama," you thought. "Okay, team Blur or team Oasis? I hear there was a lot of blood shed during the battle of Britpop."

He again took another drag of his cigarette. Anyone would be looking at this and thinking he found you hella annoying, but he didn't. He just genuinely thought you had a great imagination.

"Neither, I guess. I don't have time to listen to music."

He was right, which was why he loved when you sang at the pub and most of all, to him during your private Lana concerts.

As time went on, you were in DEEP. Scotland? Yeah never heard of her. Not only were you working for Tommy doing whatever bookkeeping is, but he had even introduced you to his family, which you KNOW damn well is a sign that shit is serious.

You loved the Shelby's, even though they were a bit off their shit sometimes. But it wasn't anything new, you'd been well familiar with crazy families before. You loved talking shit with Polly, going to the 'cinema' with Ada, fucking with Arthur until he got mad, supplying John with his toothpicks and making little Finn believe in the fake number 'derf'. You got along with them well, they saw you as a perfect fit for the family - something different, vibrant and bright! You loved them and they loved you! Polly would even tell you in confidence that you made Tommy a happier person, something he lost after the war. Getting Polly's stamp of approval was literally it, that's all you needed.

And you and Tommy? Yeah y'all were a thing. An item. During work hours he'd give you little looks here and there, and so did you, as if it was some secret office romance. But it wasn't secret literally everyone knew you were his girl. And that's power.

You learned the ropes pretty fast, again it wasn't your first rodeo in the mob. It was like Colombia all over again, but we don't talk about that. Tommy fucked with you having a secretive criminal past, he thought it was pretty hot.

Besides bookkeeping, you still worked in the bar. All the patrons loved when you sang Lana, it just went on to prove that she's indeed a poet. They eventually memorized them and sang along, which annoyed you sometimes cause you just wanted to hear yourself and they sounded like ass when they were drunk. But you just go along with it!

Some of the songs you in the pub (and Tommy's room) sang included:

Bartender (cause hello? You're LITERALLY at a bar)

Shades of Cool (for Tommy's big blue ass eyes (you wished they could hear that guitar solo cause the acapella didn't do it justice :( ))

Cola (singing this for the fist time made you realize you had to censor a couple things, they weren't a fan of that intro)

Stargirl's Interlude (Lana's part obvi, but it's again for Tommy cause he's your starboy <3 he loved when you hit those high notes)

Brooklyn Baby (you avoided it cause it reminded you of your ex)

Video Games (hello it's for Tommy)

Love Song (this makes them all cry)

Money Power Glory (again hello it's Tommy, but this wouldn't hit until he's a member in Parliament)

National Anthem (being in England for so long made you forget the United States anthem)

Fucked My Way Up To The Top (literally you rn)

Speaking OF a bunch of drunk men, the gang loved you. You thought you were like the comedic relief of the little theater thing they had going on here. You had to admit, you admired the method acting everyone had done so far. It only, to you, proved that it worked, since you were GENUINELY left in deep in a psychosis where you're just a 1920's flapper girl.

There was some rules and etiquettes you needed to remember, however. One, was of course, the "BILLY FACKIN KIMBA", and another was you finding out Tommy did NOT fuck with brujeria or anything dark magic related. You thought it was kinda funny, he reminded you of those Reddit r/atheist accounts but at the same time, he was low-key scared of zodiacs. Not that he didn't like it, he was paranoid at them. You literally asked his zodiac sign and he responded very sternly and seriously,

"Y/N, don't."

You then said. "That's a very Capricorn thing to say."

Besides that, everything was great and chill.

It wasn't long before this annoying ass Irish inspector dude pulled up to the pub. Once he saw you, he locked eyes with you and approached the bar. You didn't like his vibe in the slightest. In fact, no one in the pub liked his vibe either. They all fell silent when he entered.

"Excuse, me, ma'am," he said. You turned, not really wanting to talk.

"Yeah, what?"

"Do you know about a Thomas Shelby?"

"Yeah, what about him?" you didn't fuck with anyone who referred to Tommy as Thomas. Like?

"Do you know where I can find him?"

You were really starting to not fuck with his vibe even more. Something was def fishy.

"You should really go back to being with the dinosaurs," you said. He didn't like that.

He leaned in. "Do you know who I am? Who do ya think you arrrrrre?" the R's went very crazy.

And just in time, as if he was your guardian angel, Tommy opened the doors to the little room beside the bar. Babes was hearing everything and he was NOT gonna let this dude talk shit to his girl like that.

"You need to speak to me? Inspector Campbell, is it?" he said. "I've read about you in the papers."

Tommy then took Campbell soup outside to speak. Before leaving, he (Tommy) gave you a wink and you winked back. You knew that was code for 'let's hit my flat later'. Little did you know, this would be the last time.....

P.S. - when you asked one of the men at the pub who he was and someone replied IRA, you originally interpreted that as the Irish IRS and shat yourself. You didn't know how to tell Tommy your time was ticking, they'd located you - but you were not going down without a fight.

You were both in his bedroom as usual, he was lying in bed smoking, you were hitting the Elf bar, rain pattering, English people yelling outside yeah you get the vibe. Anyway, he asked you to sing - a request you took quite seriously. You knew this was his only time of relaxation and you had to make the best of it before you break the news you needed to escape again.

You rose, sitting up and looking down at his BBL face.

"Lana or Nicki?"

"Lana."

"Can I do Nicki? You never ask for her."

He took a drag and nodded. "Go ahead."

This, now this would be where you fucked up. Let's just say, you wish you could wipe out this night from your memory. Alas, all things need to come to an end, even the good ones, unfortunately. You'd never thought it would be like this though tbh.

You stood up on the bed, as usual, cleared your throat all that bullshit. You thought and thought, "what's a good Nicki song? What's fitting?"

And then it hit you - it was definitely a deep cut.

He had a soft smile on his lips, watching you as you were thinking. Little did he know, you were going to harness a part of yourself you hadn't seen in a while. This was a mode you unlocked that was such a release after, and you knew you had to go all or nothing.

You cleared your throat.

"Okay, so this one's kinda not AS well known, but it has British themes I think work well," you prefaced. "Okay, here I go."

The moment you opened your mouth, you let the spirit of Nicki come in. And once she's in, there's no going back. And Tommy was not prepared for that. You then started Nicki's verse in Sean Kingston's "Born To Be Wild".

"♪ If you will die, then why would you try and if you reply, a suit and a tie is what I will buy then you will be mine because you and I were born to be wild, I am Martha you King Arthur who knew you would land me, I’ve been known to eat these rappers, cook em like chef Ramsey - ♪"

You were too deep to notice Tommy's rapid increasing worry and fear as you spat out those lyrics. It was too overstimulating for him to handle. You ate, but that was just want concerned him - he didn't know you were rapping. In fact, no one at this current time did.

" ♪ - Mission accomplished, your my accomplice cover of vogue yeah ima go topless ima go bonkers ima go crazy ima get reckless then have a baby then hang the baby off the balcony teach him to moon walk tell em he's Japanese - ♪ "

No, he thought you were putting a curse on him. No, he was CONVINCED.

"Stop! STOP!" Tommy rose from his bed, pushing the sheets off of him.

You were shaken out of your trance, confused. You became worried, what happened? Did you miss something? Were y'all in danger?

"Wait, Tommy -"

"Enough! Stop!" you had never seen panic in that man's eyes. Never. And you didn't like it. He was looking straight at you, talking to YOU.

"Stop what -"

"You're a bloody fucking witch!" he yelled, rubbing his hand through his hair while the other TIGHT on his hip. This was his evaluating stance. "That's what this is - that's what it's been."

"Uh, Tommy," you said, more annoyed that he interrupted your moment, "I'm no witch. I'm just, well, Y/N."

He took a deep breath, now facing away from you. He couldn't believe it. All this time, all that mumbo jumbo that came out of your mouth, all this time - they were just that. Curses. No wonder he didn't understand them, you were literally speaking in tongues this whole time.

You walked towards him, slowly. This man needed that opium right now.

"Tommy -"

"Leave. LEAVE!" he yelled, grabbing your messy bun, and doing what you didn't think would happen again for a very long time - he beybladed you.

Spin. Spin. Spin.

"LET IT BLOODY RIP!"

And there it was.

And there you went.

He twisted you in the air round and round, ready for a different kind of liftoff. He flung you out the window, you crashed through and onto the cobblestone streets of Birmingham.

That was it. All these months, all this rehearsing - it all came to an end. On a random Tuesday evening? The Tommy you once thought you knew was no more - after all this time, he never trusted you? Didn't he know who you were? Like dude he watched you be vulnerable at fuck up a tikka masala. TWO of them at that.

Anyway, you realized maybe the entirety of UK just wasn't your vibe, anyway. With this 'IRA' now in town, your ass needed to be grass. Before leaving, you broke into his horse racing betting place whatever it's called and committed a little fun heist, taking all the money. What? A girl needed to sustain herself in this economy. Dog eat dog world shit. And plus, all your stuff was back at his apartment and you were DEF not gonna go back. Who knows? Was HE working for the Men In Black? Wining and dining you to gain his trust and he turned you in? Maybe he did you a favor in the end.

And maybe you could upgrade to the latest iPhone when you got to London with all this horse money? With a shilling and a pound, the possibilities seemed endless.

You walked down the streets, sad, but again more confused and a little relieved, onto your next destination, wherever that maybe. Anywhere Y/N went, it was all just a big adventure of a girl having fun being, well, just a girl having fun in this world. And THAT'S all that matters.

Hope you enjoyed!

xoxo,

~Sam St. Clair

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