#he clearly finds it funny when arthur’s drunk and indulges him

[littlestarofthewest]

Title: Matthew’s Monster Mystery | Words: 2759 | Rating: Mature

Pairing: Gen | (past John x Abigail) | Tags: monster AU, modern AU, WIP

Credit: inspired by @veradia‘s art | with input from @fangirl-ramblings and @sad-sweet-cowboah

Summary: When John insists on going to a Halloween party, Abigail worries that people might catch on that she and her friends aren't just dressed up as monsters. If only she knew that the night would take a turn for the worse.

Arthur hears voices the second he opens the apartment door, meaning that his three roomies are home, and judging from the sound of it, they're arguing.

"Come on, Abby. It's a party, not a matter of life and death."

"John, you're literally dead," Abigail counters, making Arthur huff a laugh.

He checks the mail on the counter while the argument continues in the other room.

"So? Doesn't mean I have to act like it," John says. "Back me up here, Sadie."

"He has a point," Sadie says, and Arthur enters the room right as Abigail scuffs at her in disbelief.

"What's going on here?" Arthur asks, and when both John and Abigail attempt to answer, he points at Sadie. "I'd rather hear it from her."

John leans back against the couch like a sulking child while Abigail crosses her arms and glares at Arthur.

"John brought home this flyer for a Halloween party he wants to go to," Sadie says, nodding to a piece of paper on the table. "Guess what Abigail has to say about that."

"I can imagine," Arthur says, and Abigail huffs.

"And you know I'm right."

It's one of those times Arthur wonders why exactly he lives with these quarrelers, but as a werewolf, he can't exactly be picky. After all, he's lucky that they want to live with him. If only they left him out of these disputes.

To stall, Arthur picks up the flyer and reads through it, feeling everybody's eyes on himself.

"I understand your concerns, Abigail," Arthur begins, only to be interrupted by John, who jumps up from the sofa.

"Oh, come on. Not you, too!"

"But," Arthur continues, emphasizing the word as he looks at John, "I don't see the harm."

John slaps his hands together, throwing a triumphant "Ha!" at Abigail. She only rolls her eyes at him before turning to Arthur.

"You can't be serious," she says. "Us? At a party? I thought we agreed to fly under the radar. After all, we're not exactly the fitting in kind."

"In this case, we are," Arthur says, holding up the flyer. "Everybody's going to be in costume. I wouldn't have to worry about any teeth or fur showing, and John could go out without having to hide the fact that he's nothing but a rotting corpse for once."

"Appreciate the support, brother," John throws in with a sarcastic tone.

Arthur grins at him before Sadie snatches the flyer from his hand to read through it as well. "Look, Abigail, it's not even a Halloween party. It's tonight, not tomorrow. And it takes place in an abandoned factory. The area is huge, and nobody's going to look at us twice. And if they do, we'll just claw their eyes out and eat their hearts."

"Not. Funny," Abigail says, looking like she's about to claw Sadie's eyes out. She might have done so if it wasn't for the fact that Sadie could just pop them back in without harm.

"You could use a day off yourself," Arthur says, trying to set Abigail at ease. "You might not have the physical problems we have, but we know you're struggling with hiding all the time."

"Yeah," John throws in before Abigail can disagree once more. "Imagine a night out. Putting on a nice dress, dusting off the pointy hat. And if you throw some sparks, people will think it's a cool party trick."

"I don't know," Abigail says, the fight leaving her.

"Come on," John says. He walks over to Abigail and takes her hands. "Let me see those sparkling eyes."

Abigail tries her best to hide it, but a smile creeps onto her face. It's moments like these that make Arthur wonder why the two of them are not a couple anymore. They'd be great if they could just stop with the constant fighting.

"Show us, Abby," Sadie says, and when Abigail shakes her head, Arthur chimes in as well.

"You know you want to."

"Fine." Abigail takes a deep breath, closing her eyes. When she opens them, they're glowing with golden spots. "Let's go to the party."

--------

Arthur shoulders his way through the crowd to get back to their table. The gang turned him into their personal waiter since he has the best assets to get through the dancing people. 

"Coming through," he growls, and a steampunk Sherlock jumps to the side, dragging a person in a full-body fox costume with them to make room.

Climbing the stairs to the upper level, Arthur has the same effect on a few more people. Although they must think that it's a costume, they still seem mighty impressed. To celebrate the occasion, Arthur didn't bother to even put on a shirt, his fur and general body heat enough to keep him warm. The only thing he's holding back at the moment is the claws. It's kind of hard to carry drinks with them.

At the table, Arthur hands Sadie a beer before putting down two bottles of whiskey. Abigail's still nipping on her first cocktail, her eyes growing big at the sight.

"What are you doing? I thought we were at least trying to be inconspicuous."

"We are," John says before grabbing one of the bottles. "Nobody's even looking at us."

He takes a drag from his joint, and Abigail rolls her eyes. "Why would you risk getting in trouble with that? You can't get high anyway."

"I just like the taste," John says before opening the whiskey bottle and drinking from it as if it was water.

He's clearly baiting Abigail, but she doesn't lay into him for once, looking at Arthur instead. "Why do you always indulge him?"

"Maybe I just want to see how much his body can take before it falls apart."

Sadie laughs when John makes a face, and even Abigail fights a smile. Arthur pulls up his glass and pours himself a drink before pushing it over to Abigail.

"Think you can give it a little kick?"

Just like John, Arthur can't get drunk from alcohol alone, but being roommates with a witch has its perks. It didn't take them long to figure out that Abigail's magic can spice things up a little.

Abigail looks around as if to make sure that nobody's watching. Arthur's convinced that even if somebody does, they wouldn't care. Most people here are drunk, high, or otherwise engaged. Abigail shrugs before holding out her fist over Arthur's glass. She opens it up and then moves her finger in a circle. The liquid in the glass glows and moves with her finger, then a small puff of smoke goes up in the air.

"Thank you kindly," Arthur says, and Abigail smiles.

"I guess it's really pretty safe."

"Told you," John chimes in before pushing his bottle over to Abigail. "Now do mine."

Abigail frowns at him, venom in her voice when she speaks. "John Marston, when the hell will you finally learn some manners?"

"What? You did it for Arthur."

"He asked," Abigail spits, but before she can say more, Sadie jumps up.

"That's it, you two are killing my vibe. I need something to do. You coming, Arthur?"

The chances of John and Abigail getting into another fight is pretty high, so Arthur gets to his feet. "Right behind you."

They make their way downstairs, and Sadie keeps looking around as if she's searching for something in particular.

"You got a plan?" Arthur asks, and Sadie smiles.

"I think I do."

A few minutes later, they're standing beside a table that's filled with cups. Sadie found a few "easy boys" as she called them, and challenged them to a game of beer pong. While she's playing, Arthur stands to the side and enjoys the show.

Since Sadie doesn't even have a bloodstream the alcohol could get into, it's no trouble for her to have a drink or two. Not that it really comes to that. All of her balls hit their targets, and the "easy boys" don't stand a chance.

A few people come closer to the table, watching as Sadie's opponents do their best to beat her, one of them swaying dangerously from one side to the other. They didn't stand a chance from the start, but the drunker they get, the funnier it is to watch them try. After a while, even Arthur begins to feel his pumped up drink and cheers for Sadie. At least until a small figure appears next to him.

"Hey, big boy," the woman says, smiling at him.

She's wearing a tight black dress, her hair falling in waves over her shoulder. Arthur's eyes are drawn to her blood-red lips and then to her nails when she trails them along his arm.

"That is such a great costume. The fur looks so real."

"It is," Arthur says, regretting it a second later.

The red lady doesn't seem to care, though. She keeps touching him and looks up to him through her fake lashes. "I wish I would have dressed as Red Riding Hood. You could have been my big bad wolf."

A shiver runs down Arthur's spine, something he rarely gets to feel. "I- uhm," he starts while drawing a complete blank for what to say next.

"Told you, I'll win, honey," a familiar voice says, and Sadie grabs Arthur's arm before dragging him down to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Let's head back."

She doesn't give the red lady a second glance and pulls Arthur along. When they're out of earshot, Arthur sighs. "Thank you."

"You looked like you were about to pass out."

"I'm not even sure what she wanted."

Sadie laughs. "Climb you like a tree would be my guess."

"But why?"

"One of these days, we'll get you a nice box of self-esteem, and then you'll see." Sadie leans in, putting her lips right by Arthur's ear. "Big bad wolf."

"Just keep walking," Arthur grunts and maneuvers Sadie up the stairs.

Surprisingly enough, they find John and Abigail sitting on the same side of the table. Judging by Abigail's rosy cheeks, they buried the hatchet and gave John's bottle a little kick after all.

"You seem chipper," Sadie says, and Abigail shrugs.

"When you can't fight them, join them. Right?" Abigail says, looking back and forth between Arthur and Sadie. "What have you been up to."

"Sadie dragged some guys," Arthur says, and John and Abigail both laugh.

"They had it coming," Sadie says, waving her hand dismissively. "Way more important - Arthur got hit on."

"By who?" Abigail asks.

"Sexy vampire lady," Sadie says with a grin.

John leans back in his chair with an expression on his face like Christmas came early. "Bet you loved that."

"Just shut up," Arthur grunts before emptying his glass and reaching for his bottle to fill it right up again.

Abigail pats his arm. "She probably wasn't the one. Doesn't mean we can't keep looking."

"How about her?" John asks, nodding to a small group next to them. "The fairy. What do you think, Arthur?"

The woman in question is about Sadie's height, with long silvery hair. She's wearing a dress that looks like the wind blew up some leaves, and she walked away with the ones that got stuck.

"That I'd snap her like a twig."

"No, don't say that," Abigail says, and Sadie leans over the table to get a better look. 

"You think she's the real deal? That doesn't look like a wig, and she sure has the physique for a fairy."

They all stare at the woman now, but it's hard to tell if someone is a monster or not. After all, they might be pretty good at hiding, just like the four of them are.

"Bet you 5 bucks she's real," John says, and Arthur takes another look at her.

It's been a while that he ran into someone like them. To him, the fairy looks as real as the vampire lady.

"Fine, you're on."

"I say fake, too," Abigail says. "From what I can tell, there's no magic on her."

"You might be right, but I still bet on her being real," Sadie says, leaning around Arthur for a better view. "I wouldn't mind a little magic from her."

"Let's find out then," John says, and before Abigail can hold him back, he already stumbles over to the poor woman.

They don't understand what John's saying, but while the woman smiles at first, her expression quickly changes, and she slaps John before storming off. 

Despite the harsh treatment, John comes over with a smile. "Guess I was wrong. She's no fairy."

He throws money on the table, and Arthur pockets it while Abigail studies John's face.

"You just got slapped, and you lost the bet. What are you smiling about?" she asks.

"Fake fairy was very excited when I asked about her number for the pretty blonde at my table," John says, winking at Sadie. "She only slapped me when I asked if I could watch."

"You're an idiot," Abigail says, but Sadie jumps to her feet.

"You're a genius," she says, clapping John's shoulder before disappearing into the crowd.

John sits down and takes a swig from his bottle. "One down, one to go. So, vampire lady, huh?"

Arthur only shakes his head. The last time John tried to set him up didn't end well, and Arthur has no desire to try again. 

"Why one to go?" Abigail asks. "What about me?"

"Oh, I know who you're going home with," John says, and by the way he looks at her, she and Arthur can tell what he means.

"No way," Abigail laughs, but Arthur has seen those signs before.

"I'll get another drink," he says, getting up from his chair.

Abigail shakes her head at John, who's still giving her what he might think are bedroom eyes before turning to Arthur. "Your bottle is practically full."

"You two take that one," Arthur says. 

He doesn't want to stick around. Either John and Abigail are going to fight again or they'll get along way better than Arthur cares to see. Although he's not that interested in going on the prowl, he'll rather take his chances in the crowd. Maybe he can find somebody nice after all. Everything, as long as it's not a vampire.

-------

When they leave two hours later, Arthur's just tired, Sadie has fake fairy's phone number in her pocket, and John and Abigail whisper and laugh with each other about things only they find funny.

Therefore, Arthur's happy when his phone lights up with an incoming video call.

"Hey guys, look," he says, waving the other's over before answering the call. "Hey, Hosea."

Their friend and somewhat father figure waves back at them. "Hello, Arthur. How are you doing?"

"We're just walking home from a party."

"Party, huh? That's smart. Blending in with the Halloween crowd."

Both John and Abigail break into fits of laughter, and Sadie huffs. It's funny to hear Hosea call John smart of all people.

"What are you up to this late?" Arthur says, trying his best to focus on Hosea.

"I'm meeting a friend, we're-"

Hosea trails off, and Arthur can see him look around.

"You're alright, Hosea?"

"Yeah, I just thought I-" Hosea starts, but then he looks away from his phone again, his eyes growing big. "Hey, what are you-"

The picture shakes, Hosea disappearing out of the frame. "Let me go," he grunts, then the image goes dark.

"Hosea," Arthur shouts, but his phone switches the screen, showing him that the call has ended.

"What the hell was that?" Sadie says, and John and Abigail both stare at Arthur, all happiness drained from their faces.

"I think someone attacked him," Arthur says, his whole body tingling at the words.

He looks down at his phone and finally has the sense to call Hosea back. It rings again and again, but nobody answers.

"What now?" John asks. "We should do something, right?"

"Find him, of course," Abigail says.

"Was he in the park?" Sadie asks. "I think I saw that ugly fountain in the background."

The picture of what they just saw comes up in Arthur's mind. "You're right, we should go. Maybe whoever he was about to meet wasn't a friend after all."

They quickly make their way along the street towards the nearby park. Another shiver runs down Arthur's spine, giving him a bad feeling. He'd never admit it out loud, but he doesn't believe that they'll find Hosea so easily. 

Something is very, very wrong.

#rdr2 fanfiction #cara's halloween au #my writing

[ofstagdreams]

flicker of the heart. [2/?]

a/n wow so everyone loved part one and I just ?? so i’ve decided to make a series of events that span over several years of their relationship with lots of feels and angst. For anyone interested, part one can be found here. Repost because its not showing up in tags again?? 

warnings character deaths, lots of angst, sad Arthur.

Silence had never bothered you, sometimes you preferred it. It allowed you to be alone with your thoughts, to work through them and allow your mind to be at peace. You liked the silence to listen to the sound of nature, the quiet trample of deer hooves and the sound of birds chirping their songs to one another.

But this, this type of silence was deafening.

You remember it all so clearly. It was unclear when he first met her, some months after the fall out with Mary you suppose, that Arthur had fallen into bed with a pretty young waitress and gotten her pregnant.

You had been jealous, you definitely remember that much. That you always thought Arthur thought of you like some little kid but then he goes and sleeps with someone who was the same age as you. It had hurt and you had to hold back your tears at his mix of utter joy and fear when he found out she was expecting a child, his child.

You also remember his glee when he had returned to camp a few weeks after little Isaac was born. “It’s a boy,” he yelled, jumping off his horse and into Hosea’s arms with glee. There had been a celebration that night and you don’t think you can ever recall Arthur being so happy as he told drunken stories about his son around the campfire. You couldn’t help but share in his joy, sitting shoulder to shoulder with John as you both listen to stories about his son’s shit with endless laughter. It had been one of the best nights you’d ever spent in the camp and your jealousy abated a little as you saw how much his new family had lit him up.

You remember the first time you met her. Arthur and you had been out hunting, trying to scrounge up more food for your suddenly vastly expanding camp. Gone were the days when it was just Dutch, Hosea, John, Arthur and you. Not that you minded too much really, you liked talking with Bessie and Annabelle, Ms. Grimshaw could also be really good to talk to when she wasn’t nagging about chores.

“I haven’t seen the boy in a few weeks and Eliza lives near here – if you wouldn’t mind taking a little detour?” He’d tried to hide it, but you could easily spot the excitement in his eyes as the thought of seeing them again and had agreed to go, despite your own nervousness on the matter.

She had been beautiful, you had known that much from the moment you had clapped eyes on her, a small boy sitting on the ground beside her as she hung out sheets to dry. She had smiled at you, Isaac reaching out his arms to be picked up by his Pa who gladly obliged him.

You had sat with her on the steps of her porch as Arthur held his son up to his horse, encouraging him to pat the gentle beast. As you spoke to her, your jealousy disappeared entirely. They were not two people in love, they were two people who were lonely and had indulged themselves for a single night, a young boy being the product of their indulgence.

You had liked her, she was fiery and funny. You had seen Arthur in a new light that day, different somehow, lighter, as he helped her with the cooking and the three of you had laughed around the dinner table as you regaled stories of Arthur when the two of you were younger.

Later, as you watched Arthur rock his son until he fell asleep, she had approached you and nudged your shoulder before nodding towards Arthur. “You should tell him how you feel, he’s rather clueless about that kind of stuff.”

It had caught you off guard and you hadn’t been able to formulate a response, but the look on your face must have said something because she let out a quiet laugh and shook her head at you.

You may have been the same age, but Eliza seemed wise beyond her years.

Arthur lays beneath the stars with you later the same night, watching as they twinkle above you. You steal a glance at him, you had known he had wanted to stay longer but you had to get the meat back to camp before it went bad. You remember how he was with his beautiful boy, how his soft expression had been entirely focused on his son and impossibly, you fell more in love with him.

“You’re a good father, Arthur.” You tell him, because Arthur is never told that he is good enough and sometimes you like to remind him that he is more than enough. You watch as the blush rises to his cheeks, the soft whistle that leaves him as he processes your words and he turns to look at you.

You expect the normal denial that he gives, that he ain’t a good man and all the rest of it. But there’s something alight in his eyes as he looks at you. “You think so?” There’s a rare tone of hopefulness in his voice and you can tell just how important this is to him.

In the dark, you reach out for his hand and squeeze it gently, “I saw you with your boy today, I know so.”

You’ll never forget the beaming smile you get from him in response, or how he never let go of your hand until you both fell asleep staring at the stars.

You had seen them perhaps a handful more times, sometimes Hosea and Bessie would tag along with reams of gifts for Isaac. You wondered if they saw him as a grandson of sorts and were happy that they could spoil a child at some point because you knew how badly that they wanted one of their own.

Dutch and John had also tagged along once or twice, with John looking at Isaac as if he had no clue what a baby was. You had grown to like Eliza a lot, liked her wit and how well she always seemed to handle when Arthur showed up with unexpected guests.

You also grew to have some amount of love for the small boy, you liked making him laugh and helping him stack together the wooden blocks he got from Hosea. You had liked them, had adopted them into your strange circle of family and people you trust.

Now they lay cold in the ground, Isaac barely past his second birthday, for the sake of ten dollars.

No one had seen Arthur for weeks, so a worried Hosea had gone looking for him and had checked Eliza’s place, finding only two markers in their place.

He had found Arthur in a bar, drunk and half dead from the looks of it. Dragging him back to camp with a heavy heart as he took in the state of his son, of the boy who he loved so much that had lost what he loved most in the world.

You find Arthur in a similar position to where you found him a few years back when he’d been heartbroken over Mary. You hadn’t thought you could see a sadder man when you had saw him then and you hated to be proved wrong by the sight in front of you. Tears stream slightly down his face, an empty bottle of whiskey has been tossed to the side as he stares at the endless forest in the clearing beneath you.

You have no idea what to say, the grief you feel at the loss must be nothing compared to what Arthur feels. The sorry sits on the tip of your tongue, but it feels hollow and insincere. You sit beside him instead, hoping action will help where words have entirely failed you and place a hand on his shoulder, just like you had before.

And just like before, he grabs it, except his grip is strong and he holds you as if you’re the anchor stopping him from drowning in the vast ocean. You have no idea if he’ll be alright, if he’ll be the same when he comes out from the other side of this. But you’re here and you love him with every fibre of your being and, for right now, that will have to be enough.

In the vast darkness of the sky above, the stars shine on.

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #arthur morgan imagine #rdr2 #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #my writing #flickeroftheheartfic

[sympathyfortheblinderdevil]

Here Comes Pride Up the Backstretch

Sequel to “Sometimes, My Horses Stand a Chance Of Winning” and ”My Horse Won” (Go to my profile, they’re on my masterlist)

Tommy Shelby x Reader

You have pushed Tommy away in an attempt to have a normal life. When Tommy becomes interested in the Garrison’s new barmaid, and Arthur seems a little too protective of you, jealousy pushes you back together.

Pride is a foolish thing; it can steal you away from your heart’s desire and convince you that it’s for the best. A year ago you let your pride come between you and Tommy, and you’ve regretted it ever since.

 It seems like you’ve been almost a pair for as long as you can remember. Every year or so, your eyes meet across a crowded room, sparks fly, and you burn through each other like summer lightning. It usually lasts a night—although, one time it lasted several weeks—and then you fall out. Why do you find so many ways to resist what the universe has clearly ordained? It all boils down to pride.

 The last time you slept with him you honestly just slept. You were drinking at the Marquis when Tommy appeared out of nowhere. You were in no mood for the Tommy Shelby charm, and let him know it. You were nursing a horrible chest cold, and despite your best efforts at resisting, he took you back to Watery Lane to take care of you. You gave him quite a hard time, even in your weakened state, but he just kept snuggling up to your back and saying all the right things. He was murmuring sweet words, soft and low, when you dozed off. You could almost swear that through your codeine induced fog you heard him say, “I love you,” but you have no way of knowing for sure.

 Is he even capable of loving anything other than money, power, and maybe horses? You doubt if you’ll ever find out because you left in the early light of dawn. When he came round to your place later that morning, you and your pride turned him down flat. You can still see him standing in your kitchen, wearing that gray tweed suit, his cap throwing flashes of light from a razor peeking out of the brim, his dangerous lips asking you why you left.

 “Tommy, I left because I know how this story ends. Rather than stick around long enough for you to kill my dreams again, I thought I’d just skip to the ending and leave.”

 He winced for a split second as he started to say something, “y/n…” then he stopped himself. �� He slowly shook his head and sniffed, pulled a cigarette from his omnipresent silver case, and struck a match. He watched the match burn for a moment, held tightly between his thumb and forefinger before lighting his cigarette. By the time this ritual was over, he had transformed back into ice-cold Tommy Shelby.

 Wisps of white smoke curled around his lips as he spoke, “So that’s how you want it?”

 “Yeah. It may not be as much fun for you, but it seems safer for me.”

 He looked through you, past you, beyond your very being and nodded. “Take care of yourself.” He turned and walked out the door, taking a piece of your heart with him as he went. Better a piece than the whole thing, you reasoned.

 There were nights in the following months when you couldn’t sleep. Nights that would see you toss fitfully, tangled in your bedsheets and crying for peace that wouldn’t come. On some of those nights, you would go to your window to look out on the street below, and occasionally, you would see him there. He had no reason to be in your neighborhood. Still, there he’d be. Hands shoved into the pockets of his long black coat, cigarette glowing on his lips, his face turned up to your window. Sometimes the light from your room would fall just right across his icy blue eyes and you knew he could see you. Your stomach would knot, and your heart would melt, but your pride would override your emotions and keep you from calling his name.

 The two of you played this game a dozen times. You even sent word through John that he needed to stop coming to your street. You took it in turns to be infuriated and to wish he’d come again. Then one night was the last night. Funny, at the time you didn’t know that it would be the last— I guess you never do. You indulged your aching heart and watched him, half hidden behind your curtains, not caring if he saw you. When he crushed out his cigarette for the last time under your window, he did a strange thing. He looked up at you like he always did, but this time he said something. What he said, you’ll never know. But, the look in his eyes was pleading. You nearly threw up the window sash and called out to him, but once again, your pride kept you still. You just shook your head and walked away.

 You told yourself all kinds of things to justify walking away from Tommy: He can’t love anyone but himself. He will never care about anything but his business. He is only capable of a physical relationship, so why bother? Boy were you wrong.

 ***

 Grace was her name.

 She had fair skin and hair, eyes the color of the sea, and a voice that could make the devils in Small Heath weep. Tommy was smitten. Everyone you knew was talking about the new Irish barmaid who had Tommy eating out of the palm of her hand. You saw him mooning after her in the Garrison one night when you had worked up the nerve to meet some friends there for a drink. His eyes followed her everywhere she went, and she moved with the practiced poise of a girl who knew she was being watched.

 You sat with your back to the room and stewed in your mixed emotions. You sank shot after shot, trying to kill the unjustified jealousy that was shredding your nerves. You had pushed him away. You didn’t want or need someone as fickle and capricious as Thomas Shelby in your life. You could never trust him, never rest easy when he left home. The few weeks that you spent living with the King of Small Heath proved that point. But still, you wanted to cry. Your heart was okay as long as he was only seeking the company of whores and wishing they were you. You were fine as long as he was standing on your street late at night, watching your windows for a sign that you were safe and alone. But now, he didn’t come to your street and look up at your window mouthing words that you couldn’t understand. You looked over your shoulder towards the bar and wished that you hadn’t.

 When he spoke to her she radiated the warmth of a woman in love, and he basked in her glow. She looked up at him through her pale lashes and giggled at something he said, and you felt a knife twist in your heart. There you sat, openly staring at them like a twat, your eyes filled with tears. You felt a warm hand squeeze your shoulder and break the spell that you were under.

 “Ay, sister, I haven’t seen you around here for a while,” a gravelly voice spoke. Arthur put a pint into your hand and sat down beside you. His sympathetic eyes dragged you back to reality and stopped you making an ass of yourself.

 “Ta, Arthur.” You held the pint up in a little toasting gesture and smiled sadly. “I guess I look a fool, pining after him in front of God and everybody.” You sat the glass of lager down on the table and put your head in your hands. You were good and drunk. Too drunk to care if people saw you hiding your face as bitter tears dripped off your chin.

 Arthur put a handkerchief in your lap and leaned close enough that only you could hear him. “This Grace gal, she’s only a diversion, love. It ain’t gonna last. She’s not right for him… not like you are. All the birds he’s seen are just substitutes for you.”

 “Oh, Arthur,” you sighed, “I’ve really fucked up. I’ve seen the way he looks at her. The way he used to look at me…” Your voice cracked and you buried your head in Arthur’s shoulder.

 You remember him patting your back and telling you that you’d better just go home for the night. You knew that he was right. You were too drunk and too obviously heartsick to stay at the Garrison. Your friends had all peeled off into dark corners with guys that they’d met. You were lucky that you had a friend like Arthur pulling you toward the door instead of some random chap. As you passed the bar, Tommy’s eyes met yours and for the briefest moment, you saw something like worry there. His gaze shifted to Arthur, and they nodded in understanding. He wanted Arthur to see you home safe.

 You resented the fact that Tommy felt like you were his business and started pulling away from Arthur, reeling toward the bar. “Don’t you worry about me, Tommy Shelby,” you slurred, “Worry about your barmaid.” Grace’s head snapped up, and she stared in your direction. You raised your eyebrows and bobbed your head at her, “Do you have something to say, darlin’?” You mocked her Irish accent. Tommy held his hand up, “Y/n, it’s time to go home.” You smiled and turned on your heel, allowing Arthur to take your arm again. You held your other arm aloft with your middle finger extended in Tommy’s direction.

 As you walked out into the lane the night air sobered you up a bit. Arthur shook his head and spoke tenderly to you, “Y/n, you can’t let him get to you. He’ll be back.”

 You leaned closer into his side and the tears started again, “I’ve made such a fool of myself tonight. God! Why did I turn around? Why did you let me speak to them?”

 Arthur turned to face you and lightly chuckled, “Do you really think I could have stopped you?” He wiped your tears with his thumbs and kissed your forehead. “You deserve someone better than Tommy.” Arthur wrapped his arms around you and you let yourself find refuge in his warmth. He was always kind to you, which stood in stark contrast with his actions toward most others. He was mad, bad, and dangerous to know, but to you, he was always warm and good. Arthur and you stood there in the street embracing until you heard footsteps coming from the direction of the Garrison. As you pulled apart Arthur rolled his eyes and whispered, “Aw, fook. It’s Tommy.”

 Arthur kept an arm around you and you braced yourself for whatever was about to happen. Tommy was rolling a cigarette against his bottom lip as he approached. He stopped and lit a match, the flame lighting his features and revealing the contempt he felt for the scene he had interrupted. Arthur spoke first. “Just walking her home, Tom.”

 “It doesn’t look like you were walking. Quite the opposite, actually.” Tommy’s voice was tense.

 You interjected, “He was just cleaning up another one of your messes. Arthur, let’s go.” You pulled on his arm, attempting to drag him in the direction of your flat. He stood still, facing Tommy down.

 “Are we square, brother?” Arthur’s eyes never left Tommy’s and his nostrils flared as he spoke. He was holding back a righteous anger.

 “Yeah,” Tommy softly answered, “we’re square. I’ll see her the rest of the way home.”

Arthur squeezed your hand and began to walk away. “No, Arthur, wait!” you protested. How could he abandon you to his brother after the way Tommy had hurt you tonight? Your heart jumped into your throat, and you raced in front of him to block his way. “Please, I can’t bear to be alone with him now.” You dropped your gaze to the dirty street.

 “Y/n, let Tommy walk you home,” he said with strained determination.

 As Arthur’s footsteps faded down the street, Tommy came to stand beside you. “What was that display in there?” he demanded, jerking a thumb toward the Garrison.

 “I could ask you the same bloody thing. Making goo goo eyes at your barmaid for all the world to see,” you huffed. You began to walk away from Tommy and he grabbed your arm.

 “You made it plain that you didn’t want me around, so I found company elsewhere.”

 “Don’t you fuckin’ touch me!” you jerked your arm out of his grip. “I can’t be your consolation prize! You want that Irish cunt? Go and have her. I swear to God, Tommy, you have no idea what you put me through. I love…loved you, but you couldn’t settle down with me. You just want me when the mood strikes you. Well, I can’t live that way.”

 He reached for you again, “It’s not like that. You are drunk. Let me walk you home.”

 You wriggled out of his grasp and the tears started again. Damn, you hated to cry in front of him. “It’s not like that? Well, tell me where I’m mistaken, then.”

 Tommy grasped both of your shoulders and backed you into the wall, “No, y/n, you pushed me away! I told you how I felt. I told you everything! You pushed me away! You refused to see me!”

 “When did you ever tell me anything? What, when you were skulking around my street chanting Romani shite at my windows?” But then you remembered…you had a vague recollection of him saying that he loved you as you lay in his bed in a codeine fog. That night when you were sick…is that what he meant?

 His face was inches away from yours and his breath, whiskey and smoke, was hot on your face. You hated how you wanted him at that moment. You pushed against his chest, the scratchy wool of his suit refusing to budge. He had a tortured look on his face; he was fighting a battle within himself. His plush lips were hovering over yours, and slowly they came closer until they parted, drawing you into a kiss. Your knees felt weak as you leaned deeper into him. His tongue slipped into your mouth and you moaned.

In your periphery, you caught a glimpse of golden hair shining under a street lamp. Apparently, Grace had come out to see where Tommy had gone. Knowing that Grace had spotted you, your pride decided to give her a show. With the hand facing away from Grace’s view, you began to stroke the spot just under Tommy’s ear—the spot that drove him wild. He started running his hands up and down your body and buried his face in your neck, lost in the passion of the moment. Grace stood, transfixed, as Tommy started pulling your skirt up your thighs. You made a weak attempt to stop him (for the benefit of the one who was watching) and eventually stilled his hands with your own. Part of you felt shady for carrying on in front of her, but all is fair in love and war, and this was both.

 “Y/n,” Tommy groaned, “let’s go home.”

 “Home?” You caressed his face, “I want you, baby, but isn’t there someone else you need to consider?”

 He tangled his hands in your hair and pulled you back into a kiss. “I’ll end it. It’s over. She means nothing to me.”

 And there it was. Grace had seen and heard all she needed. She turned and crept away.

 You pulled back from him and tried to stop your mind from spinning. “Tommy, what about tomorrow? And the next day? We’ve tried this before.”

 “I want you in my life. We will make it work, yeah?”

 In that moment on the dirty street outside of the Garrison, you wanted to believe him. So you put your pride aside, and you did.

I totally couldn’t leave this alone, so I wrote the multi chapter fic Pride to go along with it. It’s on the masterlist on my profile .

#Peaky Blinders #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders fiction #here comes pride up the backstretch #peaky blinders imagine

[twistedrunes]

Finn’s Firsts

Hello friends,

Here is the next work in the current prompt event, requests are closed but you can access the original list here. This is a hybrid headcanon/short fic. It’s the first in a series of three I’m working on for Finn for another request, which I will get back to. 

38: “I can tell you’re lying.” 49: “You’re a terrible liar.” 50: “Everything is fine.”

Warnings: mentions sex but nothing explicit 

This fic does include a mention of late teens having sex - where I live 16 is the legal age of consent but I recognise this make not be the case everywhere. 

You’d met at school. For at least a year you were the only reason Finn even attended. You were put in the same class when he’d been held back a year. 

The other kids had been a bit cruel to him. Kids were braver during the war when his big brothers were away. Finn didn’t even make it inside the school building on the first day of the new school year before he’d got into a fight when one of the kids called him stupid. So he was in trouble with the teacher. You’d given him a little smile when he’d got his cuts. Which made Finn smile. He’d got another cut.

Polly had prepared herself on the first day of school for Finn to come home in a foul mood. She’d brought him some of his favourite sweets and had planned a special dinner. 

When Finn got in from school she’d expected him to go straight upstairs avoiding everyone. But he kind of, floated, through the door with a dreamy expression on his face. When she asked him how his day was, making sure to bring him into her office away from the crowd, he had just said, well sighed really, “Great.”

This went on for a week. Finn floating around with a funny little look on his face. One day over breakfast Polly out of pure curiosity asked him what was going on.

“I’ve met the girl I’m going to marry Aunt Pol.” He said resolutely. “Finn you’re ten don’t be ridiculous.” She had scoffed “No Aunt Pol, I’m going to marry her.” He had said clearly and with absolute conviction.

Pol had smiled indulgently and nodded, as you do when a ten-year-old tells you he’s in love and he’s found the girl he’s going to marry.

When Finn left school, not spending most of the day with you was his only regret.

Because no one really paid any attention to Finn, no one noticed that he disappeared nearly every weekday at the same time of the afternoon. He would pick you up from school whenever he could. Carrying your books for you and listening to you tell him about your day. As long as it wasn’t too cold or raining too heavily you’d take the long way home, pretty much circumnavigating Small Heath.

As you got older you’d spend time together on the weekends too. Normally with a group. The pictures, larking about, going to the Garrison, getting thrown out of the Garrison. Running amuck.

You don’t remember when he’d given you the pet name “Romni” but he had told you it was a Romani word meaning ‘one who is precious to me.’ It was only later that you found out what it really meant. He only used it when it was just the two of you. But sometimes, when he wanted to leave a social gathering to be alone with you, he’d whisper it in your ear.

You had more freedom than most girls your age, your parents splitting their time between North America and Egypt. Your father was an Egyptologist. You and your sisters stayed in your mother’s family home on the outskirts of Birmingham for school while your parents travelled. 

When your Grandparents passed your sisters were old enough to care for you. Your sisters had a great deal of freedom as teens being raised by their elderly grandparents and were happy for you to have the same. They loved Finn. They’d known him since he was ten after all.

Slowly, the two of you started spending more time on your own. Each of you turning down invitations to hang out with your friends in preference to spending time together, alone. Not that you were doing anything. There was no clear point when you went from friends to boyfriend and girlfriend. Neither of you really even having the idea in your head until a girl at the Garrison had asked Finn to dance. Isaiah had jumped up saying that Finn already had a girlfriend but he’d dance with her. You and Finn and just looked at each other and shrugged. From then on you were ‘official’ within your group of friends.

Finn didn’t even try to hold your hand until you were fifteen. You were nearly sixteen before you got sick of waiting for him to make the first move and had kissed him under a bridge on your way home one night from the pub. Standing on a convenient log to reach his lips. Neither of you was drunk, but the little bit of liquid courage had helped. 

He’d be so surprised he just stood there, not moving in any way. You’d been a bit disappointed. He had continued to just stand there for a moment, as slowly a smile formed on his face, his lips and eyes both revealing the joy in his heart.

Then he’d wrapped his arms around you and dipped you to kiss him again. This was the feeling your sisters had told you about. Your heart had soared and your knees turned to jelly as you wrapped your arms around him, your hands seemed to know where to go of their own accord. Fingers sliding up the back of his neck, over the shorn velvet at the back of his head, under his cap and into the longer hair on the top of his head. This time you’d both parted looking slightly mussed and flushed.

He’d avoided you for a few days after the prostitute incident. He was so ashamed. What he didn’t tell Tommy or anyone else was he didn’t actually have sex with her. He paid her extra to say something had happened if anyone asked and just let her sleep. 

He wanted to tell you, but didn’t think you’d believe that he hadn’t had sex with her. But he also knew what big mouths everyone in the betting shop had and he didn’t want you to hear about it from someone else. Confused he had withdrawn, avoiding you. 

In the end, you’d waited outside the betting shop for him. Determined to find out why you hadn’t seen him. You’d convinced him to take a walk to get away from prying eyes and ears.

“What’s wrong Finn?” “It’s nothing.” “I can tell you’re lying.” “Everything is fine.” “You’re a terrible liar, Finn.”

You’d found a quiet spot and Finn finally told you what happened. He was literally on his knees begging for your forgiveness and assuring you he hadn’t slept with her and that he hadn’t even wanted to. You’d been angry with everyone involved except Finn and the girl.

However it had kind of set off ideas in the heads of both of you. Before you hadn’t gone much further than some groping through your clothes. Things had definitely progressed further afterwards. Conveniently, Arthur gave Finn the flat in Artillery Square. Things progressed fairly quickly from there on. But not too quickly.

Finn was so insistent that you go slowly, not wanting to hurry you in any way. He figured he had the rest of his life to sleep with you so what did it matter. He just hadn’t told you that. He would have even waited until he married you, but you were keen to go further and well, he was seventeen and not a saint.

You worked your way up to ‘it’. Hands and mouths were used first. You’d be shy at first about Finn going down on you, embarrassed that it was ‘dirty’, but it had felt so good you were quickly converted. Finn had been concerned about you going down on him not wanting you to feel degraded or ‘like a whore’ as Tommy would have so delicately put it. But you had assured him you wanted to. You’d both enjoyed it.

The two of you set a date. You told your sisters. Finn went all out, he brought flowers, set up candles all around the flat, washed the sheets, borrowed the gramophone from Charlie’s yard. Brought prophylactics. He took you out for dinner and the pictures. Although if anyone had asked either of you afterwards what it was you ate or saw, neither of you would have been able to answer. You’d hardly spoken during dinner and at the movies, you both sat stiffly holding hands.

Back in the flat, you’d danced stiffly for one song before Finn suggested you just leave it. That had broken the ice between you and you were back to your usual selves, best friends who loved each other and wanted to make each other feel good.

You’d danced for ages, staying together and moving in unison long after the record finished, kissing and caressing each other. You had undone Finn’s tie and then his collar and then the two of you had undressed each other slowly. Respectfully exploring each other’s bodies. Once you both down to your underwear Finn had taken your hand and led you to the bedroom.

Afterwards you had rested with your head on Finn’s chest his arm wrapped around you, his fingers caressing your shoulder. He’d lifted your chin with his fingers, kissing you gently.

“I’m glad it was you. I only ever wanted it to be you.” He had said. “I’m glad it was you too.” you’d replied with a shy smile. 

You’d woken entangled, and with the nerves of the night before gone, quickly found yourselves in heated embrace again. 

Finn had brought you tea and toast in bed after. The two of you tucked up in bed together, chatting, joking, eating and enjoying your time together. Finn had decided that this was the most perfect morning he had ever had telling himself yet again that one day, soon, he would make you his wife.

Want to see what happens next for Finn and his girl?  Finn’s Family > > > 

Want to see the other fics from this prompt list? Angst and Fluff Prompts> > >

Did you like this? Hate this? Have an idea you want me to do? Send me an ask! Interested in my other work? Find them on my MASTERLIST

Want to be tagged? GO HERE

#peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinder fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #finn shelby imagine #finn shelby fanfic #prompt #request #ask #twistedrunes imagine

[hopeyoulietome]

\ let me love the lonely /

PAIRING: Michael/Y/N

RATING: PG

WORD COUNT:  2.4k

A/N: this imagine is based on the song ‘let me love the lonely’ by james arthur so give it a listen :) although this little imagine is a bit happier than the song but yeah feel free to give me some feedback if you’d like to, i’m really excited to get into the 5sos writing world 

When Luke and Ashton dragged Michael out of his apartment to come to some party with them, he was expecting to seriously hate his night. What he wasn’t expecting was to see a beautiful girl across the room the moment he stepped into the crowded house. Throughout the night he kept an eye on her, catching a few things about her that he’s almost positive no one else notices.

Luke makes some shit joke, you laugh because everyone else is - although you’ve heard the joke before at the last party you ran into Luke and Ashton at. But unlike that last party, their friend and fellow band mate Michael hadn’t tagged along. You noticed him the moment he stepped into the house. Seeming as though he was enjoying this party just as much as you were. You catch Michael’s eye as he too laughs at Luke’s shitty joke, his lips pressing into a tight smile as he realizes you’re looking at him.

An entire hour goes by and neither Luke or Ashton get the hint that Michael wants one of them to introduce him to the beautiful girl he feels he can already connect with, only after a few stolen glances. Now he notices you sitting by yourself on the couch that’s pushed into the corner so people can stand around the living room. Michael takes a deep breath, another big sip of his beer for liquid courage and then walks up to you.

“Hey, is someone sitting here?” He asks. You look up at him and find yourself staring, he was just really cute up close.

“No,” you answer after a few terrifying seconds that make Michael want to run and hide. But once you do say no, Michael smiles and takes the open seat beside you.

“I noticed you’ve been holding that same drink for a while,” Michael says but instantly regrets from how creepy he must sound to you.

You lift up the bottle half full of some shitty kiwi flavoured cooler, “yeah, it kinda sucks,” you tell him.

“Oh, did you want something else? I’m sure there’s another option somewhere for you,” Michael says, looking around the house but only finding the crowd doubled in size since he last looked around.

“No, it’s fine, I don’t really drink anyways,” you admit.

“Me neither,” Michael sighs, picking at the label on the beer bottle he’s hanging into.

“Why come to the party then?” You ask. It’s stupid to question him, seeing as you had just said you don’t drink either. But as you glance at the cute unnamed boy sitting beside you with his face all screwed up and him pushing his glasses up his nose you end up smiling.

“My friends dragged me here,” he states. “What about you?”

“Same, this place is my friends. She never let me miss a party if she’s hosting it,” you explain.

“Quite hostile of her,” Michael says, earning a chuckle from you. “I’m Mike by the way,”

“Mike?” You repeat, making sure you heard him right as the song had gotten more upbeat and louder almost.

“I meant Michael, no one really calls me Mike except my dad when he’s trying to sound cool,” he rambles out, talking with his hands. It’s cute, you think while giving him a smile.

“Michael,” you try his name again. This causes him to blush, his pale cheeks turning a faint shade of red as he hears his name fall off your tongue. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Y/N,” you say.

“I’m sorry if I like came over here and bugged you, I just noticed you were alone and thought you might be lonely or something,” Michael catches himself rambling to you again. But again, it earns a soft chuckle from you followed by a sweet smile he’d probably dream about tonight.

“It’s fine, you’re right,” you shrug, “parties can get kinda lonely,”

“I totally feel that too,”

“Yeah?” You question, brows pulled together. “Usually I say that to people and they think I’m crazy,”

“Well I don’t,” Michael says, “I kinda feel like that one string of a guitar that’s out of tune when I come to these things,”

You somehow manage to furrow your brows together even more, utterly confused by his choice of words. But it makes you laugh again. This guy was both cute and endearing. You nod your head, causing a piece of your hair to fall into your face so you’re quick to push it back behind your ear before meeting Michael’s gaze again.

“Funny way to put it, but I get it,” you say. Michael smiles, that adorable blush still on his cheeks. You can tell the conversation is sorta near it’s end, and you don’t want it to be like at all. “So you play guitar?” You ask, aware his answer is mostly going to be yes. But it sparks up an entire conversation with the cute boy that’s making you feel a little less lonely.

Just as the conversation was getting good, someone is shouting your name from across the room. You glance away from Michael and see your best friend waving you over.

“I gotta go see what she needs,” you tell Michael.

“It’s fine, I should probably check on dumb and dumber to make sure they’re not making a fool of themselves,”

“Luke and Ash are always making a fool of themselves,” you chuckle.

“Fair point,” Michael says, chuckling along with you. And with one last smile, you’re walking off to where your friend is shouting at you again. Almost instantly Michael’s mind is full of regrets. He should’ve got your number, or gone with you or anything. Maybe he’d get to you again during this stupid party.

You’re grinning at a couple, but Michael finds it like you’re a lighthouse without a light. Something he knows because he feels the same way too. Before you can catch his staring, Michael turns away and walks off into the dining room where he knows both of his idiot friends are playing a game of beer pong. Losing, which is no shock.

It’s stupid to think, but Michael is stupid so... he stares at you across the room again a while later. You’re still smiling without your eyes. It’s clear as day that you’re not enjoying your night, well it’s clear to him but not anyone else it seems. But Michael thinks to himself, maybe he could save himself from this party if he saves you. If he had to stand in this dining room and watch his drunk friends any longer he might lose his mind. For a second he thinks of how much better his night would be with some shit anime show. But then he finds you across the room again, time to make this night better.

“Hey,” Michael says as he approaches you again. 

“Hi again,” you smile. 

“I was, uh, I was wondering if you wanted to get out of here,” he says - really shooting his chance here. “I just noticed that you don’t really want to be here and I don’t really want to be here and I saw this pizza place down the street and-” 

“Michael,” you cut off his rambling, grinning at the blush that creeps to his cheeks again. “I’d love to get out of here and get some pizza with you,” you say.

Michael really can’t believe it. You’re walking beside him down the staircase to the street, your white converse avoiding the puddle while he’s too busy watching you to notice the puddle - his boots now wet as the two of you walk down the sidewalk together. If someone were to tell him he’d met a girl at this stupid party and end up getting some greasy cheese pizza while sitting inside a less than busy pizza and donair shop, well Michael wouldn’t believe them. And yet here he was, scrambling to get his wallet out before you can pay for the pizza. 

“It was my idea,” he insists as you narrow your eyes at him in a joking matter. You smile and lean your hip into the counter, crossing your arms at your chest. There’s no missing Michael’s eyes darting down to your pushed up cleavage as you do so. But it’s fine, cause he blushes after and looks to the floor.

“Okay, but I’ll buy us a milkshake to share,” you state while turning back to look at the menu that hangs above the counter. “Do you like chocolate or vanilla?” 

“Either,” Michael squeaks out, clearing his throat before adding, “whichever you want,” 

You smile, your cheeks were beginning to hurt from all the smiling this guy was getting you to do. “Chocolate milkshake please, just a regular size,” you tell the worker before paying. 

The two of you sit at the booth by the window, indulging into the delicious pizza before getting into some ‘get to know ya’ kind of conversation. You learn each others full names, your favourite colour (which sparks up a fight of wether or not black was a colour or a shade), and your both watching on Netflix at the moment. 

“I’m a photographer, mostly for local based clients that pay me to amp up their Instagram feeds, LA people you know,” you joke while telling Michael about your job. Which you did love a lot. 

“So your good then?” 

“Um, yeah, I guess,” you shrug. Then you get a brilliant idea, opening your camera on your phone. “Pose,” you say, chuckling as Michael’s arms move like a horribly functioning robot - clearly not sure what to do. But then he just smiles, and the way the neon sign beside you two shines on his face does your photo more justice that you could hope for. You take a minute to edit the photo quickly before turning your phone to Michael and showing him. 

“That’s amazing,” he says, picking up your phone, “never would guess you took this on an iPhone,” he adds. 

“Thanks,” you smile. 

“Can I post it? Amp up my Instagram,” he says, smiling. 

“Yeah, of course,” you nod and take your phone back from him. “What’s your number?” 

“And here I thought I’d be the one asking for your number tonight,” Michael says. You chuckle at him and shake your head. 

“Well, for the record, I would’ve gave it to you,” 

Michael smile grows wider as he lists out his phone number to you. You send him the photo and then as he’s posting the Instagram he asks for your tag. Without another thought you give him your username and smile as the notification comes through. 

“You know,” you pause to take a sip of the milkshake (you’ve been drinking most of it), “I thought tonight was going to be another shitty party,” you state. 

“So did I,” Michael nods. 

“Thanks for getting me out of there,” 

“You’re welcome,” 

The night continues on with even more smiles and laughter between you two. Michael has to be one of the sweetest guys you’ve ever met. And if someone was to tell you that you’d find a cute nice guy at one of your bets friend’s shitty parties, you sure as hell wouldn’t believe them. And yet here you were, hoping and praying this night would never end honestly. But it does, the worker coming up to you two after some time to let you know they’re closing. 

“I should probably head back to the party anyways, I’m staying the night there,” you explain while walking out of the shop with Michael holding open the door for you. 

“Yeah, I have to head back with Luke and Ashton soon too,” he states while glancing at his phone. Both the guys had texted him recently, asking where he had gone. 

“I really had a great time tonight, Michael,” you say. Michael notices your smile is much different from the beginning of the night. It’s more real, more genuine and just as heart warming as the last to be honest. Suppose he just really liked you.

“Mikey!!!!” 

You both look away from one another to see Luke running towards Michael, arms wide open to engulf his friend in a hug. Ashton’s close behind, laughing at the sight. You can’t help but chuckle as well. The two of them are talking to Michael a million miles an hour, it’s almost intimidating to stand by and watch the boys. It’s nearly two in the morning, yet they’re shouting as if it’s two in the afternoon. You reach back and scratch the back of your neck. 

“Our Uber’s here!” Ashton shouts, running towards the white car that’s pulling to the curb. 

Luke follows behind him, smacking Michael hard on the back as he glances your way. You give him another smile, it doesn’t meet your eyes this time though. Maybe you’re as sad as he’s feeling that the night’s come to an end... Michael kicks his boots against the pavement, looking down for a quick second before glancing back up and meeting your gaze. 

“Can I take you to dinner tomorrow?” he asks, the overwhelming feeling of courage hitting him in the chest again. 

“I can’t,” you say. Michael’s face drops at your words. “I have plans, but I’m free the next day?” 

Michael mirrors your smile, “I’ll text you,” he says before turning on his heels and jogging to the Uber where his drunk friends are awaiting him. 

“That chick was hot,” Luke says as Michael gets into the back seat. 

“Yeah, good pick,” Ashton agrees from the front seat. 

Michael simply rolls his eyes at his friends. You weren’t just a ‘good pick’, he felt like he already knew you before he got to know you at the pizza shop. And unlike usual, he didn’t hide away and stare from afar, he actually took a chance and it paid off. Michael looks out the window, catching the sight of the neon signs of the pizza shop you two had just sat in for almost two hours. He’d probably text you tomorrow morning, knowing he couldn’t wait that long without hearing from you again.

#5sos imagine #5sos blurbs #5sos #michael clifford #michael clifford imagine #michael clifford blurb #5sos drabble #5sos imagines #idk about the 5sos writing world here on tumblr yet but guess i'll get to know it lol

[zukadiary]

All for One ~ Moon Troupe 2017

This was my first live Tsukigumi since Puck. And really, the only Tsukigumi I’d seen at all since then was Aasa’s A-EN and part of one Arthur stream... so yeah, long time no see, Tsukigumi. I’m not sure anything can beat HOT EYES!! in terms of how far past my expectations it flew... but this is a really close second.

All for One is an original Koike-sensei fantasy involving the Three Musketeers. It’s 2 acts, and I was concerned that it would be presented in a questionable state of doneness and not interesting enough to hold my inevitably sleep-deprived attention. I was very wrong!! The first thing I did after leaving the theater on Tuesday was hunt down a good seat for today, and now I’m kind of desperate for a third chance. This show presses buttons I didn’t know I had (but apparently denim capes and barrel throwing are real turn ons for me). 

--BRIEF SUMMARY, WILL INCLUDE SPOILERS!--

The story is very silly even for a comedy, and nearly all the punchlines are pretty groan-worthy. Chapi is not actually Louis XIV but his twin sister; she was supposed to be tossed aside when they were born but they gave away the wrong baby, and raised her as a boy while frantically searching for the real Louis to no avail. So she’s assumed the role of king, and meets d’Artagnan (Tamakichi) when he’s brought in to give her fencing lessons. d’Artagnan gets overexcited and knocks her down, she gets upset (mostly from being compelled to fence in the first place) and orders him to leave the Musketeers. Later, sick and tired of pretending to be a man—especially now that her mother is trying to concoct a plot marry her off to the Queen of Spain (Umino Mitsuki) despite this lie—she puts on a dress and wig and goes out to mingle. She sees d’Artagnan in a bar drowning his sorrows with the other Musketeers, and starts engaging him in conversation in hopes of drawing his feelings toward “the king” out of him. They fall madly in love! Meanwhile, everyone else in the bar starts making fun of Cardinal Mazarin (Itsuki Chihiro), whose nephew Bernard (Tsukishiro Kanato) is the captain of the royal guard. Bernard and some guards walk in just in time to see this, and the Musketeers are ordered to disband as punishment. They find the real Louis while visiting Porthos who has taken another job as an actor, and the rest of the show is just kind of a general hullabaloo of Chapi trying to figure out how to avoid marriage and be with d’Artagnan, and the Musketeers trying to get the real Louis into the palace and their band back together, while Bernard continues trying to ruin everything. Act 1 felt more polished; it has some really big impressive musical numbers (and I’m always wowed by Tsukigumi’s overall vocal level when I see them live). Act 2 felt like Koike ran out of steam a little; it was more generic Takarazuka, and the final chaotic series of fights on the rotating stairs reminded me an awful lot of the end of Kenshin. He’s also clearly still really excited about sword noises (not complaining... so am I).

It’s not the story that I fell in love with as much as the incredible balance this troupe has APPARENTLY DEVELOPED WHILE I WASN’T LOOKING, and I think Koike’s biggest success here was putting every little piece in exactly the right place to maximize that balance. We all joke that Chapi is the real top star of Tsukigumi, but in All for One she essentially was. MiyaRuri and Toshi are so obviously more polished than Tamakichi, but they don’t hold back, and instead of showing her up it highlights her purity. Reiko definitely doesn’t mesh yet, but Bernard is a ridiculous character, so she’s free to be awkward for now and still totally succeed... plus she’s a type that I think really adds something to the troupe. Ari has the challenge of being overly masculine and funny, and she’s still finding her feet but it’s a great time to make her try this. The energy of the troupe overall has gotten so much less competitive and more FUN AND HAPPY since the last time I watched them. I did not think making Tamakichi a premature top star would accomplish that, but it seems it did, and I’m so glad I was wrong... this Tsukigumi is truly a delight, and I hate them a little for making me want to continue throwing them my money. 

My highlights...

Manaki Reika as Louis XIV/Louise: Completely the star. Every time I see Chapi I think about that 2012 Christmas TV special where she barely knew how to talk, and every bit of growth makes it harder to believe she’s the same person. It’s so fun to see her dance, order people around, do a boy and a girl and both voices (and SING in both voices) all in the same show. I also love that they don’t make her do the standard musumeyaku only-think-of-your-partner thing, and lower herself to raise Tamakichi up; it was so much fun with them both at the center.

Tamaki Ryou as d’Artagnan: I found Tamakichi SO COMPLETELY CHARMING in this, she has the overgrown puppy appeal dialed up to 1000. I just LOVE that they’re aware of her youth and USING IT instead of trying to hide it, and lord I hope that’s not a one-off thing. Having her play the wide-eyed hopeful pure hero/young man IN LOVE (circumstances be damned) worked so well, especially coupled with her very imposing stature—it was adorable. It’s kind of a weird feeling, because she’s definitely not my type, but I still loved watching her so much, just with like... a completely energizing and not life-ruining happiness. IMAGINE THAT.

Miya Rurika as Aramis:

You know that feeling, when you see that one role, played by someone who you *like* but who isn’t *yours* or anything, and you can’t even say “this was a brilliant portrayal because of xyz,” but you’re like, ok, this is just the trash can where I live now, please forward my mail...

That’s all I’m going to say, lest I risk descending into impurity. 

(RIP the lady she targeted during her solo today, with a last second lunge, several rows back from her usual spot)

((Also, she just seems so much more comfortable with both Kacha and top stardom (?) out of the picture. I guess I don’t know if it’s just 3 years’ growth or if a weight really has left her shoulders, but either way it’s made her lethal x1000))

(((Also, her lips are like a Rococo painting. Who looks like that??)))

Uzuki Hayate as Athos: Not generally being a watcher of Tsukigumi, this is probably the first major thing I’ve ever seen Toshi do (although one time I took an internet quiz and it said she’d be my boyfriend). I do know this was kind of a big deal role for her to land, and I loved her in it very much. Her LOOK is ON POINT, and she really completed the chemistry of the main-4 group as the serious one. I particularly liked the dynamic between her and Ari, when they paired them—”SIGH, don’t drink that,” etc. 

Akatsuki Chisei as Porthos: Ari still has a lot of growing to do, but her youthful exuberance and the fact that she’s a giant person worked really well for big, strong, (perpetually drunk?) Porthos. She also had some of my favorite individual scenes, featuring the hurling of shockingly large objects at her troupe mates. I’m glad she’s getting a role that’s forcing her to stretch herself, and I think more than anyone she’ll get better and better as the show progresses. 

Tsukishiro Kanato as Bernard: Predictably, Reiko is completely Yukigumi... but in her favor, she BROUGHT THAT SHIT TO THE SWORD FIGHTS, dear lord girl. Bernard is a safe stretch for her, if that makes sense... it’s a comedic role, which is not her forte, but he’s ridiculous enough that she can go over the top with it, which I think is easier than finding subtlety. And she looks DAMN GOOD all in black, and consistently flanked by Kizuki Yuuma *swoon* and Chinami Karan, who also look damn good in their dark metallics and wildly colored hair (this show really is looks for days). Reiko has also adopted Chigi’s exact furrowed eyebrow smolder face for finale numbers, which is both heartwarming and heartbreaking, and VERY WELL suited to her particular brand of otherworldly beauty. 

Saou Kurama as the Dutchess of Montpensier: I’m here for Lady Koma. She’s in love with Louis and determined to teach him the joys of indulging in women until she figures out what’s really going on. It’s not a huge role and not strictly necessary, but it definitely adds another layer of charm and silliness to the story, and it is what it is specifically because it’s Koma. 

I also particularly enjoyed Touka Yurino as Chapi’s mother. 

I think I could watch this every day until I leave. I’m not even sure why I love it so much... it’s pretty dumb. But I love it. Tsukigumi, this was not our arrangement, you were supposed to leave me alone. 

#takarazuka #reviews #all for one #Dramatic S(ummer 17)