#my point is this world is fucked up and people are wired to see things one way but that way is not necessary the right way

[despazito]

could u elaborate on "parrots make bad pets"? not disagreeing (far from it) just interested to see your take! looking to learn more about this

(i've gotten this ask before so please don't mind i'm just gonna paste a writeup i did a while ago)

There’s a blog run by an animal behaviourist who specializes in parrots that i really enjoy reading, she has a very good writeup on the state of companion parrots as an industry: The Inconvenient Truth About Cockatoos

so basically the average person usually cannot meet the needs of a parrot, especially medium and ESPECIALLY large species. they are long lived, extremely social and intelligent animals who are very demanding if you are their only companion. in my mind the most 'ethical' pet parrot setup is having some pairs of budgies in a dedicated bird room filled with foraging enrichment and doing some basic command training as a bird-human bonding activity instead of cuddles.

most pet parrots are hand reared or even hatched in incubators by breeders and are never given a chance to be raised by their parents, and virtually none stay with their parents until a natural weaning age before getting sold. which is wild considering it is fucking ILLEGAL to do that to puppies or kittens.

A parrot isn't really born wired for human companionship in the same way that a dog or cat is. they imprint on their parents which sets the blueprint of their kin, and they generally want to only form extremely close bonds with others of their kin. To get a very people-oriented parrot, it has to think it’s people.

This is different from the socializing practiced in raising cats and dogs or acclimating ferals to people. socializing means exposure to things so that the animal doesn't grow up to see the target as a threat, and ultimately that the target is something that can be very rewarding to spend time around. A dog raised with its mother and socialized to people still understands that it's a dog, it can get along with other dogs, but can also form strong bonds to people. They actually read both dog and human body language and legitimately have an awareness that we are different species.

The companion parrot is raised to think it’s people, and as a result many lose the ability to form bonds with their own kind. in fact the reason many breeders remove eggs or chicks from the nest is arguing that the parent birds don’t really know how to raise their chicks- because they themselves were hand reared and never learned how to parent from their parents! it seems that, like us, parenting isn't perfectly hardwired in parrots and they need to learn the skill from their families, oftentimes even staying to help their parents raise younger siblings!

That's why it's not at all uncommon for pair bonded breeding birds to be sold as a completely separate product from companion birds in many aviary operations. there's so many ads for people selling breeding parrots that fucking hate humans or are semi tame specifically listed for sale as breeders not as pets:

then their babies are bred for the pet market so they are taken either before or right after hatching to get hand reared and imprinted onto humans, because a parrot-bonded parrot just won't be as interested in forming those close human companionships you see in viral videos. this isn't the case for all aviaries, i want to acknowledge there are smaller scale breeders who have tamer breeding birds, but big producers can have borderline feral pairs and the point i'm trying to make is when you socialize a parrot to either the human world or parrot world, it's often at the expense of the other.

most trouble starts once the parrot begins reaching the age of sexual maturity. they stop being openly cuddly to most people, and will try to pair bond with their primary caretaker. It's not uncommon for this to lead to aggression towards other family members because parrots don't share partners, they can even do this to babies they are jealous of!

But a human can't become a suitable mate substitute for a parrot, and some of their mating behaviours such as regurgitating on you can seem straight up gross so the human then shuns the parrot and shuts down their advances. this can make your bird become very sexually frustrated that can lead to more unwanted behaviours and even health emergencies such as prolapse. we lead them on by stroking their chest and backs (only something bonded pairs do, you are essentially jerking off your parrot when you do this..) then reject them with no other outlet for their natural urges, and spaying/neutering isn't an option either! so they're stuck in a psychological purgatory of being unable to fulfill their instincts. and if they're in an understimulating environment and left alone for most of the day in addition to all that, frankly i think that's just an awful life to give to an animal we allegedly love!

we essentially alienate them, and when they don’t have people around to meet their extremely high social needs because you work a 9-5, even if there are other birds around, the lonely or frustrated human-bonded parrot can become depressed and self mutilate.

parrots that were left with their parents, are raised as parrots, and weaned at their own natural pace overwhelmingly do not exhibit these destructive behaviours.

 a productive relationship with a pet parrot is one that fosters independence, not dependence, on the human companion. the most responsible parrot owners should strive to act more as a zookeeper to their parrot instead of cuddling it and creating a ‘velcro’ bird glued to the hip, and socialize with them via training sessions instead of letting their birds indulge in pair bonding behaviours like petting and preening which leads to sexual frustration and aggression or self mutilation.

Ultimately I believe any parrot hand reared and imprinted onto humans is some degree of psychologically damaged and suffers from the parrot equivalent of a developmental trauma, they have been robbed of a normal parrot life and it cannot be undone.

SO many parrot rescues are completely flooded with unwanted pets, many with tough behavioural challenges (for example it's not uncommon for parrots to be reactive to an entire gender, so that cuts the adopter pool immediately in half). and these patterns can be difficult to break especially without the aid of a behaviourist. and the thing still has another 40 years of life left in it but nobody wants to adopt because it's another "crazy bitey bird that hates everyone", has reached sexual maturity so it's no longer as friendly, and it's much easier to start from scratch so folks choose to just buy another baby and keep the cycle going.

And none of that even touches on the rampant poaching that keeps supplying the trade in many parts of the world. and that's why everyone should have domestic chickens or pigeons.

#i added a bit oop #its a child that cannot move out and may live up to 70

[abductedlawnchair]

*ranting and raving and stomping on rooftops and flailing my arms about* HUMANS ARE AMIMALS!!! WE ARE ANIMALS!!! QUIT ACTING LIKE WE'RE NOT!!!

I am so goddamn tired of society acting like we're not!!! I am so goddamn tired of us as a society acting like we are above all the other animals!!! I do not care that we are the apex!!! We are fucking ANIMALS!!! Like, just take a step back and observe us like we have our own nature documentary on Nat Geo or something. Maybe with David Attenborough or whatever, idc. Just imagine it.

We are a species of apes that just so happened to gain the ability of extremely complex and abstract thought, capability of language, an almost absurd level of self-awareness, and the type of intelligence that allowed us to discover, invent, and develop tools. A species of apes that just so happen to have such a crazy level of curiosity that we have the capability to learn about the world around us, and beyond.

The way we learn and develop is fascinating. If you observe a toddler from that standpoint, watching them interact with the world around them, you'd see how natural curiosity is to us, in our human nature. Neil deGrasse Tyson has literally said that children are beings of chaos because they're curious and learning about the world around them.

We all have children in us, just like we have our ancestors in us!!! Our brains are wired like theirs. Relatively, we have been in this state of society for an extremely short amount of time!! Our brains and nervous systems are still wired to survive and keep us safe from predators and other dangers!!

We are social creatures!! We need love and connection to survive!! We can't do things on our own. The only reason we ever got to where we are is because we work together and communicate and share knowledge. The way society is right now is too isolating!! Humans aren't meant to be fighting for a place in society!! Haven't you seen zookeepers?? Or anyone who cares for nature in any capacity?? We have an incredible capacity for compassion and caretaking, because we have the capability to know and understand the inner workings of ourselves and countless other species!! Caretaking and compassion is literally an innate human trait!! We're supposed to take care of each other and the world around us!! We literally are capable of pack bonding with ROOMBAS, for fucks sake!! Little robots that our ape brains see moving around on its own, being part of our homes, and thinks "little guy is alive... I love him"!!! Isn't that beautiful???

We were an evolution of Mother Earth, Herself, to grow Her and expand Her and care for Her!!! Whether you believe in intelligent design or just the absurdity of it all, it still happened like that. We have the capacity to care for Her in an evolved level, yet we're fucking it up so badly right now.

Indigenous cultures have always been on the right track. They've always been right about this. They have always known that we are all pieces of the same organism, just like the atoms and cells and organs and electricity in your body are all part of one body!!

And btw, culture is another HUGE part of us being social creatures!! Being expressive and creative and connected!! That's part of our nature!! We're meant to sing and dance and laugh together!! That connectivity of us being a collective is So Important!!! Making fun of people for being "sheep", or having "herd mentality" every single time is so stupid because yes!!! Yes that's EXACTLY how we are supposed to be!!! We are social creatures, remember?? The whole point is that we do things together!!!

I know how society is rn isn't the end all, be all, but it just breaks my heart that this Capitalism shit goes against some of the most beautiful parts of humanity!! We are animals!!! We are cute and curious and compassionate and social and we need warmth and sunlight and sustenance from the earth and water and sleep and shelter from the elements!! We have instincts just like everything else!! We came from the dust and we will return to the dust because we will always be part of the Earth, just like all the other animals!! And somehow, despite all odds, despite how robotic Capitalism wants us to be, our human nature seeps into everything.

Take care of yourself! You are an animal, after all! <3

*climbs off rooftop... for now*

#humanity #humans as animals #human spirit #and the true nature of humanity #anthropology #nature #human nature #whimsy #childlike wonder #wholesome #ponderings #galaxy brain #ramblings #connectedness #shouting into the tumblr void #soap box

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #76

You know. After a day or so to process this version of events, I think I can finally put into words why so many people cry out for your blood, but not Rufus's or his father's, even though they've done things that are arguably far worse than anything you've ever done. Goodness, but isn't it the same age-old story of people villainizing abuse victims for striking back while excusing the abuser that broke the survivor to that point? And we see it all the time in my world; nobody does anything about bullying at school until the bullied person finally punches their bully in the face, and then the bully gets off scot-free while the victim gets suspended. I think of spouses who, backed into a corner and trying to defend themselves, strike back at the spouse who has been abusing them, and the spouse defending themselves gets charges pressed while the other one who had been abusing them gets pitied. I think about trafficked humans (many of them are snatched up as CHILDREN) who, in an effort to get free or to defend themselves, strike back at the person trafficking them and escape, only to then face a world who hates them for having been trafficked. And all of these things have one thing in common: the price for escaping from being "owned" is often another form of punishment or imprisonment.

Of course, I am not saying that people should call for Rufus's or his father's blood, either. Or even for Hojo's. They are not different from you - either they have congenital defects in the parts of their brain that are responsible for empathy (and pretending like this is a moral issue instead of a brain wiring issue is ableism), or they've lived lives that have beaten their psyches into a shape that makes them think that hurting other people and treating them like objects is the only way to survive. This is ALSO a brain wiring issue - though this kind of brain wiring issue is better classified as a psychological injury (due to attachment disruption or childhood trauma) than as an illness or congenital defect.

Yeah, you read all of that right. I said what I said and I meant it, and I know that people aren't gonna like it, but today I am tired and bitter from all the shit I'm seeing, and out of fucks to give as a result. I don't demonize Rufus or his father. I don't demonize Hojo, either. They have done horrific and inexcusable things and I feel very angry in response to that, but they need HELP. They, too, are capable of making a different choice and turning around. Imagine that. It's almost as though calling for mercy for you (or in other words, "being a Sephiroth fan" or a "Sephiroth apologist", as people like to call folks like me for the purpose of degrading us) has absolutely nothing to do with your looks or with trying to "fix" you so I can date you (I'm sorry, but the idea of "fixing" a person to get with them is absolutely fucking barftastic🤢🤮), or whatever other bullshit nonsense that people who have never been through severe and ongoing grooming or abuse without any kind of support (support can be from a teacher, friend, other family member, etc.) like to accuse us of. Hoodathunkit?

I think, too, that lots of people see that potentially destructive side of you in themselves, and I think they would rather see people who lapse in reining it in die than acknowledge that it's within them, too. Or perhaps living a life that is painful enough to break them into such a horrific shape is unfathomable to them. Either way, one fact remains: people don't want to own up to the fact that literally every single one of us has the capacity to do something similar to what you did, if their life circumstances break them in the way that leads to that kind of terrible, tragic, infuriating, and wholly inexcusable outcome. You're not some especially monstrous thing. You're not a lone goddamn wolf or a rare exception to some general rule or an isolated fucking edge case. And I know it because people in my world make choices similar to yours EVERY SINGLE DAY, even if their means of enacting those choices differ from yours.

The capacity to inflict horror upon other living things is part of the human condition. It is in ALL OF US, whether we want to fucking acknowledge it or not. And all it takes to bring it out is a long enough string of psychologically damaging events in the absence of appropriate support. Cases like yours are NOT random events caused by "inherently bad people"; there's no such fucking thing as "inherently bad people". There are conditions and events that lead to people doing horrific things, and these conditions and events can be found and prevented before they get to that point, if only everyone keeps their eyes open and pays attention! I spend as much time as I can trying to reach those that conventional wisdom says are "unreachable" PRECISELY in service to trying to keep my eyes open and pay attention!

Because horrific events and bad choices are like bacteria - they DO NOT spontaneously generate ("spontaneous generation theory" used to be a thing that people believed about microorganisms a long time ago)! Conditions LEAD TO THEIR GROWTH. And the solution to a person afflicted with bacteria is NOT to kill or demonize them (though this is how they used to be treated; check out most of human history!)! You're supposed to give them antibiotics to REMOVE THE CONDITIONS THAT ALLOW FOR BACTERIAL GROWTH. And the same rules apply to people who make violent choices - you remove the conditions that produce the choices, NOT the person who made them. But goddammit, I am only one person, and… fuck, there are just SO. MANY. STARFISH… stranded on the beach sand…

Also, you know… even as far back as the original game, anyone with half a brain understood that you must have been crying, weeping, sobbing openly during your time at the library. In this version of events, we saw you do that for just a moment before it was choked back and replaced with… something else (I know what this is like; I still have the capacity to cease crying immediately via dissociation; this skill was literally beaten into me, and I imagine it's the same for you). And in my world, it's popular to believe that men should never cry or be vulnerable in any way, shape, or form (this bit of socio-cultural bullshit is actually generational trauma, and it's literally fucking killing people, in the form of internalized or externalized violence), so lots of people here are going to have less empathy for you at least in part because you defied the "cultural norms" of what it means to be a man and a leader (again, this is generational trauma mistaken for culture, and it needs to fucking stop because people are dying over it). And it's so… it's so…

Ugh… Sephiroth, all of the things I know, all the suffering in the world, all the causes of it… it's all swirling around in my head today, and it's heavy. It's so fucking heavy. Watching all the people, every single one of them beautiful and good, doing what they do to themselves and each another, hurting themselves and each other, psychologically or physically maiming themselves and each other, even torturing and killing themselves or each other, all because somehow doing these things feels easier than trying to repair and restore everything… they don't know what they're doing. And there's not… there's not a damn thing I can do about it. I look at the state of things on a large scale. Our dying planet. The endless wars. The marginalized groups of people. The violence and the hate crimes. The genocides. I want to cry and to scream and to throw up all at once.

…But I suppose much of that is neither here nor there. Suppose anyone with "conventional wisdom" would tell me I'm "reading too goddamn much" into a "silly video game", but… given that the media in our world LITERALLY PERPETUATES STEREOTYPES THAT KILL PEOPLE, I gotta say I'm more than a little fucking bitter about that today.

In any case… you - an abused, exploited, and bullied person most of your life - escaped being owned by Shinra (in the clumsiest and most ridiculous and horrible fucking way possible, but still), only to find yet another goddamn chain around your neck. If it's not Jenova controlling you, then it's your trauma and conditioning pulling the strings. Either way you're acting like a goddamn puppet. There, I said it. And as much as I love you, if you don't like that I said it, then too fucking bad; maybe try actually DOING something about it.

Sephiroth. As much as I love you, I am always going to be more than a little pissed about the fact that you squandered your voice so recklessly back then. I'm always going to be more than a little pissed about the fact that you fucking! abused! yourself! for a week! until you broke! WHAT THE FUCK.

If you had simply! Told people! What you had been put through! If you had told them what Shinra was doing! If you had simply opened your freaking mouth to talk about your experiences to a bunch of people who practically worshipped you, you would have eventually had millions of people rallied with you to put an end to Shinra! Sephiroth, for fuck's sake, YOU WERE A GODDAMN GENERAL!! You know how to lead people! And you know how to protect them! Get a goddamn grip!

And I know that the mayor guy acted all entitled to your time while you were exhausted and still grieving for your friends, and it was shitty of him to pass judgment on you when he had no idea what you were going through. But ultimately, it is up to YOU to communicate your needs and feelings, not up to the people around you to anticipate what they are! And I know that the guy took your picture without your permission, and I know they didn't heed when you said "not today". But there is a difference between "having no respect for your word" and "being so excited and happy about your presence that they are unable to contain themselves". It is still up to YOU to maintain your boundaries even if other people don't like it!

Sephiroth! I know that you were struggling! And I know that you spent your whole life being bullied and abused to the point that you felt as though your voice had no power. I know that. I understand that. I am still dragging myself up out of that hole. I know that you were trying to punish evil, and that you saw these people as being complicit in the system that hurt you, your friends, your mother Lucrecia, and your planet. I get that you were trying to punch your bullies back in their faces, but you punched the WRONG PEOPLE. And even then: why punch people when you can instead wield your voice!

Sephiroth, despite the harshness of your upbringing and all the other things that make you stand out, you still have privilege! You have status! You have fame! You have power! You have a remarkably able male body! YOU ARE THE KIND OF PERSON THAT PEOPLE LISTEN TO! You have a face that people are willing to see! You have a voice that people are willing to hear! And there is a difference between holding people accountable for being complicit in a system that benefits them, and punishing people for existing in a system (even if that system benefits them) that they did not consent to being born into!

You can't even begin to imagine what I would be willing to give up in order to have a voice like yours, so that I could call for compassion and mercy in ways that would get people to open their eyes and take action in service to putting a stop to all the suffering that exists in this place that I live in.

But no. Instead of being brave and coming out of your shell to use your voice and social power in response to injustice and exploitation, you simply defaulted to your instinctual behaviors. You did the thing you've been trained to do. Like Pavlov's dog, the bell was rung and you drooled everyfuckingwhere. You used your power to cut everything down, instead of using your voice to rally people together for a cause that they ABSOLUTELY would have followed because YOUR face and YOUR voice would have been the one leading it.

Sephiroth. This fucking sucks. What you did to yourself in that library - starving, dehydrating, and sleep depriving yourself and pushing yourself past your limits while you were already strained - fucking sucks. And what you did in the throes of your agony also sucks. Punishing the people around you because your brain was addled and you didn't fucking fact-check what you were reading fucking sucks! And I do understand very well why you did all this; I was abused similarly to you, albeit in a far less extreme way, and thus a long time ago I used to think similarly to the way you did after your fall (I don't think that way anymore because I had help, thank freaking goodness). But IT STILL FUCKING SUCKS. And it was STILL unacceptable. You can't change what you did. But you can make a different choice, moving forward!

Conventional wisdom says that there is no coming back from having fallen, but I am living proof that in this case, "conventional wisdom" is GARBAGE. I would not be sitting here, imploring you to turn your eyes towards a kinder, more compassionate worldview - one that exists in stark defiance of everything I used to believe because of what I was taught as a child - if "conventional wisdom" were true. In addition, I have met other people in the course of my derping around on this broken fucken planet who also serve as proof that anyone, no matter what has happened to them or what they've done in the past, can rise up into making a different choice. And these cases, too, are not "edge" cases. They are not exceptions to a rule. The capacity to heal and grow and change - just like the capacity to hurt and regress and stagnate - is part of the human condition. And this means that anyone can turn around! No! Matter! How! Far! They've! Walked! In! The! Wrong! Direction!!

Goddammit, Sephiroth! Turn yourself around!! Because although I understand what you're trying to do, what you're doing is NOT the way to get it done! What you're doing is BULLSHIT! Maybe you think you're demonstrating your "phenomenal power" or whatever by breaking everything around you, but what you're REALLY doing is yielding to your conditioning like it's got a chain around your neck and a cattle prod in its hand! It's weaksauce! You ALREADY KNOW HOW TO BREAK THINGS. You've spent your whole life being forced to do that even when you didn't want to!

So you gonna, you gonna what? Sit here and claim that you're "the chosen one" or some fucking horseshit, as though you've taken your power back? When really you just took the easy route of doing the same old shit you've always done - bending over and making yourself a slave to someone else's fucked-up agenda, and becoming the very thing you reviled against SO HARD that you burned down an entire fucking village in disgust, despair, and rage? I ain't buyin' it, and neither should you! All you've done is exchanged one codependent relationship for another! And it's getting fucking old! You can do better than blind, subservient obedience to some random fucking space parasite that don't give even two shits about you as much as it cares about your capacity to allow it to resume its life cycle! You've gotta know that even if you really did manage to break everything (you won't, because I fucking promise you that you'll be stopped), as soon as you've served its purpose, it's gonna toss ya like yesterday's trash, if not outright consume you like a female mantis after it's done using its mate like a fucktoy!

The developers said that we've only seen 1% of your power or some shit, but you fucking know what? You could wipe the whole goddamn universe clean. You could extinguish every last star. And STILL some random fucking autistic chick from some random fucking planet in a random fucking solar system in a random fucking galaxy has your ass beat in ALL the ways that count! And that's NOT ACCEPTABLE. I am nothing! I am NO ONE. Sephiroth!! COME ON ALREADY!!

You want strength? Do the work to defy your conditioning. Do the work to love the broken things. Do the work to become someone who does no harm yet takes no shit. Do the work to become someone who can remain soft even in this sharp and unforgiving world. Do the work to get out of your own damn way. Do the work to become someone who can treat yourself like you actually fucking matter. Do the work to get up off your knees and live. DO! THE! WORK! Don't just do the same thing you've always done and claim you've won! Don't act like a pigeon playing chess - shitting all over the board and then struttin' and swaggerin' around like you're some kind of grandmaster! That's NOT how this shit works! You haven't broken free of the pattern! All you've done is changed the hand holding your leash!

You have to stop blindly giving away your power to anyone who claims to love you! You have to stop using your power in service to the conditioning that tried to snatch away who you really are on the inside! They tried to steal away your gentleness! They tried to steal away your emotions! They tried to steal away your ability to cry, your ability to be vulnerable, your ability to be compassionate and loving! Are you just gonna sit here and let them? Are you going to keep pretending like you're cruel and hard-hearted just because a bunch of people who cared nothing for you told you that's how a proper warrior is supposed to be? Are you going to keep on like this, doing the same thing you've always done, just because taking the time to grieve and to make choices that are actually in alignment with your nature are things that feel too difficult for you to do?

…Fucking hell, but some days, clamoring for you to get your shit together feels A LOT like Atreyu trying to pull Artax up out of the swamp:

Come on!!! Turn around!!! You have to, NOW! You have to try!! You have to care!! You can't let the darkness overtake you! You gotta move or you'll die!! Please!! There's still life on the other side of mistakes. There's still life on the other side of despair. There's still life on the other side of rage, of loss, of shattering. It doesn't have to be permanent!

…I won't give up. Even if you leave those of us who care for you sitting and weeping in the middle of the swamp, staring forlornly, or in shock and in disbelief at the place where you sank, I'm not going to quit. I will keep calling out your name in hopes that you'll follow the sound back to the light. Because you're worth the effort. You're worth the pain. You're worth the grief.

I'll leave you with these:

Take the hands outstretched to you and get your ass out of the goddamn swamp. Having a swamp ass is not a good time for ANYONE involved. So please. I…

…I'll write to you tomorrow. Because I love you. In the same way that any person loves their friends. Do everything in your power to keep yourself and your planet and your friends safe. I'm begging you. Please.

Your friend, Lumine

#sephiroth #ThankYouFFVIIDevs #ThankYouFF7Devs #ThankYouSephiroth #final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 #ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy vii crisis core #final fantasy 7 crisis core #final fantasy crisis core #ffvii crisis core #ff7 crisis core #crisis core #ff7r #final fantasy vii remake #final fantasy 7 remake #ffvii remake #ff7 remake #final fantasy vii rebirth #final fantasy 7 rebirth #ffvii rebirth #ff7 rebirth #final fantasy 7 ever crisis #ffvii ever crisis #ff7 ever crisis #ffvii first soldier #out of fucks #get out of your own way #wholesome

[f1crecs]

Fic Rec List - Fernando/Lance

you might enjoy: Canadian Fest, eh - for more Lance content.

If your fic is on this list and you don’t want it to be, please let me know and I will remove it immediately, no questions asked. I have contacted most of the authors on this list, but sometimes people fall through the gaps - just pop me a message🤍

have a pairing you want me to do next? please read the faqs and then head to my inbox.

don’t forget to give the authors featured on this list some love in the form of kudos, bookmarks, and comments!

i won't lie to you, anon... I thought we'd agreed on Strollonso as the pairing name. 🤭 my vote still goes to Lando.

i hope you enjoy these ❗️🤍

nsfw: El Dick Plan by @waddlingpenguin | E | 800 Lawrence and Fernando have a misunderstanding at the dinner table. This fic is hilarious - unashamedly unhinged, just as Strollonso should be, and so unbelievably funny. This was one of the first Lance/Fernando fics I read. I think it rearranged my brain a little bit.

'In fact, Lance literally has his foot so far up Fernando’s pant leg that Stoffel is surprised he’s not choking on Canadian toes each time he opens his mouth to talk to the engineers.'

shatter my life apart (see me for somebody else) by @vicsy | M | 1.4k An exploration of Lance and Fernando's relationship. This is a stunning fic. This author has just the most beautiful writing style - it's like poetry, and flows in the most stunning way. This is as much a love letter to Lance as it is to Strollonso - I really, really loved this one.

'Fernando Alonso is a perpetual wildcard and Lance builds his attitude around this little image, prepared for some sort of psychological warfare but it never happens.'

nsfw: victor's spoil by venerat | E | 1.9k Following Fernando's first pole for Aston Martin, Lance is invited to his room - a Winner's Room AU. The vibes here are suitably unhinged/rancid/possessive. If I were to recommend a fic to help someone get Strollonso, to understand the essence of who they are together, I would recommend this one. I love everything this author writes.

'Imagining Fernando with them makes Lance want to chew through wire. Again: fucked up, truly and extensively. He’s just really fucked up about Fernando.'

nsfw: I make two grand an hour by @kritischetheologie | E | 3.1k Lance meets Fernando for the first time at a sponsor event. I adored this fic. It is so funny and well-characterised and hot. One thing that I really love about this author is their ability to weave in detail - you could read their fics over and over again, and still pick up something new each and every time. It just makes for the richest, most delicious stories that draw you in every last time.

'(Lance had almost just said fuck it and gone into banking when he graduated two years ago, like he’d always known he probably would eventually, ever since the day he showed up at St. Andrews and realized that the entire world economy ran on fake numbers on a half-dozen computer screens, but the whole point of trust funds was supposed to be not having to be boring. Who the fuck else was going to make art? Humanity needed him to be living dramatically, falling in love with a thousand beautiful men whose lips he could immortalize in poetry.)'

nsfw: green light, red wine (and i don't feel fine) by @vicsy | E | 9k (wip) Fernando is a crime boss caught in a long-standing feud with Lawrence Stroll - things get complicated when he meets Lance. This fic is fantastic. The vibes are unmatched. This author has such a beautiful, almost melodic writing style, which I love. Also. This is fucking hot. 10/10.

'There aren’t many opportunities Fernando deliberately missed in his life. He wouldn’t be on top if he did. Right next to him, clad in a tight white t-shirt, sits an opportunity for a power move, the one Fernando would take all the way.'

nsfw: silver platter by @wewentcarracing | E | 9.7k Lance and Fernando grow closer, much to Esteban's dismay. This is delicious. Full of unhinged and intense moments. Every word of this is perfection; something I particularly appreciate about this author is their ability to build tension - you won't be able to put this story down once you've started it. Perfection.

'Lance laughs, off-guard and delighted. Fernando has this way of deciding what's true in his own mind and then forcing it into reality with brute strength alone. He's decided that Lance will make it to the podium this year, and so he will. It feels so, so good to hear coming from another driver—any driver, really, but the fact that it’s Fernando. Two-time WDC. Veteran. It doesn't feel like he's being toyed with; it feels real.'

nsfw: Not Even Jail by @baldrmoon | E | 9.9k (wip) Lance is a rookie detective with a new partner - they've met before. This is such a fantastic start to what I know is going to be an incredible story. The world-building here is fantastic. A world away from F1, but with so many of the dynamics and relationships mirrored in a totally new setting that feels very organic and true-to-life. It's just very well done, and I am excited to see what the author does next!

'Lance was charmed almost despite himself. The guy – Fernando, Lance made a mental correction, – smiled, a bit sideways, narrowing his eyes. Lance immediately felt flustered under his intense stare.'

#strollonso #alonstroll #1814 #fals #f1 rpf #pairing:fernando/lance #driver:fernando #driver:lance

[azurevi]

a surprise visit

characters: adeuce (platonic/romantic)+ grim x gn!reader

summary: life has been keeping you away from your friends back in twisted wonderland, and after weeks of radio silence, they decide to give you a little surprise. 950

note: very fun to imagine that they can just travel between worlds with a mirror. wrote this because school has been beating my ass lately and is not stopping anytime soon💔

When you decided to return to your world, there were two things your friends asked of you: that you stayed in touch, and that you would visit sometimes with the mirror Crowley enchanted so that you could go over there during (and only during) holidays.

For the past few months, you’d held to your words, texting them regularly about the big and small happenings of your life. It wasn’t anywhere near enough to fill that distance between you guys, but you managed nonetheless, eagerly awaiting the next break.

But then work came rolling in. Every day it was project after project, chasing deadlines after deadlines, with seemingly no end in sight. It wasn’t your intention to go radio silence on them, but you barely had enough hours to juggle everything on your plate, let alone check the mountain of messages.

They knew work had been keeping you busy and out of reach, and they did try to endure it, but it’s not easy. It’s torture not knowing how you were doing, not having you check up on them at random times of the day, not hearing your fuzzy voice on the other side of the call.

So all things considered, they really couldn’t be blamed for breaking Crowley’s rules now, could they?

Some people couldn’t stand the suspense of silence, the uncertainty it brought, the unfamiliar vacancy. But for someone living alone, hearing noises in other parts of the apartment was the last thing you could hope for.

What was that saying again, anything that can go wrong will go wrong? It was the only thought running through your tense mind as you tip-toed into your bedroom. The tall, lean wardrobe door shook, and a few shushes and hisses could be heard from within.

It started five minutes ago with a really loud thump, which you’d naively dismissed as a random falling object at the time, but the second came not a few seconds later, and a chill shot down your spine immediately. The very human voices only confirmed your nightmare—

There were definitely burglars in your wardrobe.

The worst part was that you’d been home for four straight days already, powered by nothing but delivered junk food and the absolute spite you held towards your work at hand. So either they’d snuck in at some point, or they’d been in your house the whole time.

Aside from the table lamp by the bed, there was nothing you could wield as a weapon. With held breaths, you plugged out the wire and let it fall to the floor with a soft sound. It was enough to startle the intruders into an abrupt pause in their low whispers.

Deep breaths, in and out. You adjusted your grip on the lamp and dragged yourself towards the ominous door.

Three-

Two-

One-

With a war cry, you swung open the door and raised the lamp high up in the air, ready to strike.

“AHHHHHHHH”

“AHHHHHHHH”

“FGNAAA!”

Three people- no, two people and a cat screamed bloody murder in your face, arms thrown around each other as if that could keep your lamp of judgement away.

It took a moment for you to recognize the trio, but once you did, your arms dropped to your sides defeatedly.

“What the fuck?!”

Deuce averted his gaze while Ace waved awkwardly. Grim, as usual, failed to read the room and strode out of the wardrobe, “Hello, henchman! We are here to pay you a visit!”

“Um, yeah,” Deuce added. “…Long time no see?”

“No!” You snapped. “Can someone explain to me how you’re here? And- oh my god. Ace. Your leg.”

Four pairs of eyes shot towards the redhead, whose leg was somehow stuck in the mirror. With a quiet ‘whoops’, he pulled it out like it was the most normal thing.

“You got here through my wardrobe mirror,” you deduced quickly, then pointed your thumb at the gilded full length mirror reclined against the wall, one that was made specifically for mirror-traveling purposes. “What happened to ‘using a specific mirror for transportation’?”

“Well, here’s the thing,” Ace said, both of them stood up from your now crumpled piles of clothes. “It’s not holiday yet, so technically we can’t use the mirror. Crowley made sure of that by binding it with a spell. But we, smart as we are, broke it with no complication… except the part where we messed up the destination.”

“You don’t look overjoyed to see us at all! We only came because you went missing on us, ya know!” Grim butted in, folding his fluffy arms.

Guilt crept up on you as you recalled how long it’d been since you’d last talked to them. It was a pleasant surprise to have them around, but after days of fatigue, the fright they’d given you was not the addition you needed. Still, you picked Grim up like a kitten, earning disgruntled protests from him.

“You mean you guys missed me?”

“Yea, they did. Not me though, I got by just~ fine without you.” Ace had that shit-eating grin on his face. It all felt very familiar.

“You were making a pie last night at 3am because you missed them too much.” Deuce exposed him with no hesitation, pointedly ignoring him as he stuttered. “Anyways, here we are. How have you been? You look… drained.”

“Life has been kicking me in the ass recently. I haven’t had a good rest in a while.” A rueful sigh left you as you buried your face in Grim’s fur. Deuce exchanged a knowing look with Ace, one that usually meant they were up to no good.

After wordlessly reaching an agreement, they slung their arms around your shoulders, turned you around and started leading you out of the room like bodyguards. “What’re you doing?”

“We’re going out to have fun!” Ace exclaimed, walking down the hallway.

“Wrong direction,” You stated. He silently turned back around. “And I still have tons to do. I can’t just leave.”

“So you’re saying, you worried us for weeks to a point where we broke our headmaster’s rule to check up on you, and now that we’re here, you’re not even gonna show us around your world? That sounds a bit hurtful, don’t you think, Deuce?”

“Oh, definitely,” Deuce hummed innocently. “I really wanted to learn more about this world… I guess we will just have to go back with disappointment and heartbreak.”

You rolled your eyes skyward. Most of the time they got along was to gaslight you into doing what they want.

They shot you a look of anticipation.

…Though, they did have a point. They’d come all the way here, it would be rude to just choose work over them. Plus, you knew them enough to know that it was just another way for them to show that they cared.

The truth was, you could really use a break.

“Alright, fine. Let’s go sightseeing today, but on one condition— you have to help me finish my stuff later. Now, what kind of place do you want to go?”

As they began to shout out their wishlist, you reckoned that this was going to be another busy day. But for once, you were looking forward to it.

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #ace trappola #deuce spade #sie writes #ace trapolla x reader #deuce spade x reader

[prazinos]

Cold. Pt 2

Warnings ! ~ This part talks about self harm (non-specified), Chrissy ain't nice, sex mentioned very briefly.

Read Part One ! {} Request Something ! {} Masterlist ! {}

You awoke to the familiar warmth of Eddie, you were clinging to him like a koala, and when you looked up at him you noticed he was already looking down at you with glassy eyes.

'What's wrong?' you asked quietly

'Just feel bad' he whispered hoarsely

'No offence but you kinda should' you smiled at him

Eddie let out a quiet, sad laugh before wrapping his arms around you tightly. Although you felt like you could barely breath, you enjoyed the pressure.

'let's do something, anything you want' Eddie said into your hair

'I just wanna watch a bunch of movies with you Eds’

‘Alright sweetheart, but what are we gonna do about Steve? Are-are you not wanting to see him anymore?-have me see him anymore?’

‘I think…I think that I can forgive him but he just really needs to make it up. Like he needs to understand my point of view and seriously apologise about Chrissy being a better fuck than me’

‘Nobody’s a better fuck than you honey’ Eddie said while kissing your face. You pushed him away giggling

‘But I think he just felt like he had to defend himself ya’know? I mean, he’s had to deal with his dad calling him a world of names-especially calling him a man whore-when he found out about us. So I think that Stevie just thought you were attacking him like his dad does, and I think when he calms down he’ll understand your point if view’

‘Yeah I guess but I just don’t know why he’s hanging out with Chrissy so much’ you whispered, feeling tears welling up again.

‘Honey, Chrissy is um, manipulative. Whenever Steve or I would tell her we would hang out with you that day she would get like really upset, or tell us she isn’t feeling well. And then when we both got sick of it and called her out on it she told us that she was going to um…harm herself’ Eddie said, clearly annoyed.

‘I think it affected Steve more than me, first time she said it he was really shaken up about it’

‘oh’

‘that doesn’t excuse his behaviour at all though’

You nodded, your eyes feeling tired again. You yawned, shutting your eyes, shoving your face back into Eddie’s chest, inhaling the smell of cigarettes and his cologne, he smelt more like cigarettes than usual though.

‘Chrissy just leave me alone okay?’ Steve nearly yelled

‘but it’s not fair! You broke up with her!’ Chrissy practically wailed

‘No I didn’t, it’s a fight not a breakup. Jesus Chrissy just get it through your head that i don’t want to be friends with you anymore’

‘Because you can’t! Eddie already dumped me-‘

‘Hold on, dumped you? He was never your boyfriend Chrissy’

She giggled at his words, ‘of course he was! We had sex!’

Steve’s eyes widened at the words that came out of Chrissy’s mouth. Eddie wouldn’t do that, right? I mean surely not. He knew Chrissy was a bitch but Jesus Christ.

‘What?’ Steve glowered

‘Oh yeah, a couple times actually. He felt so good’ she smiled.

‘You fucked my boyfriend?’ Steve yelled, getting closer

‘Y-your boyfriend?’ Chrissy asked, suddenly terrified

‘Yes my boyfriend. How dumb are you that you didn’t even know we were together? He calls me Stevie, he calls me honey!’

‘You guys never k-kissed! And he calls everybody nicknames it’s his thing!’

‘He calls people he loves nicknames. Me, Robin, Dustin, our girlfriend! Did you ever pick up on how he only ever called you Chrissy?’

‘W-well no but-‘

‘But nothing! Tell me, what’s the tattoo he has on his v-line?’

Chrissy’s eyes lowered to the floor looking for an answer.

‘It’s a um, it’s, it’s barbed wire’

‘No Chrissy it isn’t. you clearly didn’t fuck him. You wanna know what it actually is? Eddie has a tattoo on his v-line that says Ahoy. it was a stupid fucking dare Robin gave him. You didn’t fuck Eddie. You never will’

‘Okay! Maybe I didn’t fuck Eddie but you look like you need to blow off some steam and maybe I can help?’ Chrissy says, inching closer, placing her hand on Steve’s chest.

Steve quickly shoved her away, maybe a bit too hard as Chrissy fell backwards and landed on her ass.

‘No, don’t fucking touch me. God I just-I can’t believe you. Or me for that matter. I feel disgusting for what I said. I said you were a better fuck for God's sake!' Steve yelled, the emotions building up and making it harder and harder to contain the tears.

'I could be a better fuck Stevie' Chrissy says looking up at Steve.

'Don't-don't call me that. Just fucking, don't talk to me anymore. Please'

He then stormed out of the apartment, beating himself up on the inside. He seriously cannot believe himself. He felt disgusting, he felt like his father. His face now blooming with a bruise that will remind him of his mistake for weeks.

He now didn't know where to go, he knew when he got back to his apartment that Chrissy will have left but likely left a large mess on her way out.

Steve didn't know how he was going to make it up to you and Eddie. He couldn't make it up with sex, that feels like a cop out. But he also knows that flowers and chocolate won't do much. Maybe a necklace and new ring for you two? Or is that too much like his father, always making mistakes towards Steve or his mother; then buying Steve a new baseball bat or buy his mother a new bracelet.

He's getting too into his own head, you know what? He is going to buy you two jewellery.

He walked out of the high class jewellery store, bag in hand containing a new ruby necklace for you, before going to a more indie store he knew Eddie frequents.

When Steve walked in the store he asked the woman at the counter if she knew Eddie, and when she told him that she indeed does, he asks if Eddie has been eyeing a specific ring.

Turns out Eddie has expensive taste, not that Steve can't afford it.

He arrives at Nancy and Robin's apartment, knowing that Eddie was there with you, judging from when Nancy had told him on the phone after he left yesterday.

Yes, he had tried to call Nancy and apologise to you and Eddie over the phone since he assumed the two of you would definitely not want to see him.

Sighing, he knocked lightly on the door, waiting for a handful of names to be thrown at him.

Nancy opened the door, her eyes hardening when she saw Steve.

'You know you can't buy their forgiveness' she spits

'I-I know, I just, can I see them?' Steve asks

She looks at him, trying to decide if he has good intentions.

She rolled her eyes at his kicked puppy look, before stepping aside, allowing Steve inside.

He hightailed it to the room that you were in, knocking lightly. He smiled softly when he heard Eddie laughing at something before saying 'come in!'

When Steve opened the door, he was met with the two of you cuddled up on the bed.

Eddie's eyes immediately glared daggers into Steve, only softening for a split second when he saw the nasty bruise on Steve's face.

'Please, I don't want to fight' Steve mumbled.

'Are you just here to tell us what a good fuck Chrissy is?' you asked, venom lacing your words.

Steve looked like he had been punched in the gut.

'God no, she disgusts me. I'd never fuck her' Steve mumbles.

'Oh yeah right' you spat.

Steve got closer to the bed, sitting on it, 'I don't even know where to begin, I-I'm so sorry'

'Uh huh' you muttered.

You appreciated Eddie not inserting himself in, while yes he had a right to be mad at Steve, he wasn't hurt nearly as much as you.

'I just didn't want you accusing me of something I would never do, you two have my whole heart and, and Chrissy? God she's a horrible person but I refused to see it because I just thought that she was the same girl she was in high school' Steve mumbled, 'And I don't know how to make it up to you guys, but I promise I will, even if you don't want to be with me anymore, I will move to Australia if you asked me to, just so you never see me again' he continued.

you giggled at his words, something that made his heart flutter.

'Chrissy has changed and she changed me as well, that doesn't excuse my behaviour but to put it in perspective, Chrissy told me that she fucked Eddie. Which, she didn't she didn't even know about his tattoo on his v-line-'

'Second best tattoo on me' Eddie smirked, pulling the cover away, showing off his Ahoy tattoo.

you slapped Eddie lightly on his chest, a silent way of telling him to shut up so Steve can continue.

'She didn't even know about the tattoo on his v-line, so clearly they didn't fuck, and she didn't even know that me and Eddie were dating. it's unbelievable. And I didn't want to make it up to you guys with sex because I felt like that would just be a douchebag move. I did get gifts, and yeah, that's also a bit douchey I know, but I would have felt even worse if I didn't give you something. I'll make it up to you two everyday for the rest of our lives I swear'

You and Eddie looked at each other, a silent conversation.

You squinted at Steve.

'I forgive you, but not fully, obviously i'm still pissed about what you said, and did. As I am with Eddie. But I forgive you'

Steve's shoulders relax, obviously relieved.

'I wanna see these gifts' Eddie says, clapping his hands together.

You rolled your eyes and laughed lightly at Eddie.

Steve reached down, grabbing the bags off the ground and handing them to the two of you.

Your eyes widened at the expensive brand logo on the bag, reaching in and pulling out the box. You looked up at Steve, and he knew what you were gonna say.

'No, you two deserve something. I don't care how expensive it is' he said simply.

you clicked open the box, Eddie watching next to you. And your eyes opened comically wide at the sparkling red gem.

'Jesus H Christ' Eddie whispered.

'Steve this is gorgeous' you said softly.

'Only the best for my girl' Steve smiled.

'See if you get the best for your boy too' Eddie said, reaching into his own bag.

When Eddie pulled out a ring box, Eddie's eyes shot to Steve's

'asking to marry us Harrington?'

'Not yet' Steve laughed.

Eddie popped open the box, smiling brightly at the ring that was inside.

'I've been looking at this for weeks! You know, Octopus's actually-'

'Octopi hon' you corrected softly

'right, Octopi actually-'

Steve smiled as Eddie rambled on, moving to lie down next to you two.

Both Steve and Eddie knew that they would spend forever making it up to you. But that was something they were more than happy to do.

HI BOZOS!!!!!!

IM SORRY THIS IS SO SHORT!

Alr, this isn't like the best but I do hope ya'll enjoyed and please know, love Chrissy, nothing against her character.

Also can we talk about how Eddie would be obsessed with Octopi?? Bro probably thinks it is so cool that they have 8 arms for sure.

BYE BOZOS!!

taglist ! @svtbpbts @letitiasleftfoot @munson-girl @zzz000eee @tiannamortis @eddiesguitarskills @danandphilequalsmemes @bibieddiesgf @alohastitch0626

So sorry if I missed anybody !

#steve harrington #steddie x you #steddie headcanon #steddie x reader #steve x reader #king steve #eddie x you #eddie x steve #eddie munson #angst #steddie angst

[livinlikebailey]

Marauders as things my friend group has said

“Sometimes I forget how many dead people there are.” - Sirius @ Regulus during a family history lesson.

“ I’m gonna bite your toes while you’re sleeping,,, nibble, nibble, nibble” - a drunk Barty @ Evan who is ignoring him.

James: Drops phone on his face. James: claps friends theme song. James: picks phone back up like nothing happened.

“I’m a bi guy, a simple bi guy and I am 99% Lilly Evans and 1% Regulus Black.” - James Potter

“ Why do all the cute ones gotta be Deatheaters?” - Rita @ Bellatrix

“Iron chickens do not have iron testicals” - a very drunk Sirius @ an unfortunately sober Remus.

“I have decided that i am a snack it just no one is hungry” - Peter

Marlene: Climbs on train track bridge Dorcas: “Oh you are so fucking dumb, I look away for 2 seconds”

“No bite, no smile!” - Remus @ James who is trying to take a picture of him too close to the full moon.

“If i was there i’d slap her i don't care if she's 9” - Mary to lily after hearing about the shit her sister was doing to her. “James, I am a pussy.” - Peter to James about the forbidden forest.

“I would be James’ sugar bab- AHH!” - Lily about James to Mary.

“I have to go through all my saves and delete the videos of him because he turned out to be a pedophile… Hey! I had a chance with him” - Remus probably at some point.

“Was that CORPSE? Woop!” - Drunk Remus at a party.

Remus: “ughhhh” Sirius: “what?” Remus: “I hurt and I'm dying.” Sirius: “don't die, that's for kids”

Barty : sits up really quick "guys I just swallowed the nail, it's in my throat." Barty: proceeds to cough up the nail

Pandora: shows Regulus a picture she drew "this is cute" Regulus: "you're cute. wait that didn't go how I wanted it to.”

Barty: “RACCOON WORLDS DOMINATION”

Sirius: “Do I look like a freaking rat?” Regulus: ….. Sirius: “Don't answer that”

Effie: hears a song playing from james’ room “I used to listen to this song in grade school.” James: “Oh so it's really old then.”

Remus: "sips coffee stressfully"

Barty: "seductively eats toes"

Evan: "for your next random gift I'll get you a screwdriver Barty: "thanks I'm gonna kill myself with it"

Marlene: whining "mom James got me addicted to cocaine" wait I mean Crack cookies" - Marlene @ Effie

Nymphadora: tries to lick cat. Andromeda: "don't lick the kitty." Dora: proceeds to lick cat.

Barty: "school sh**tings" gives thumbs up

Sirius: shows Remus their high heels Remus: "okay whore" smacks hand over mouth "wait i- that wasn't supposed to come out" Sirius: laughs their ass off

James: yells across the store to mom “mom!" Random person at the checkout: looks at James "I am not mom."

“Effie’s a Milf” - Marlene

“I don't have nothing, other than a few std's” -Remus

“You can eat half a mermaid before you're a cannibal” - Pandora to Regulus

“Probably shouldn't be doing it but we’re definitely going to continue anyway” - Remus, Sirius, James and Peter in sync.

very confused Peter: “leprechauns don't play quidditch.”

Marlene: “like weewoo but not weewoo” exasperated and high off her ass

Sirius: “I like aids”

phone falls off bed Marlene in an Australian accent: "crikey my phone"

“I’m hooked up to so many wires i could connect to hbo on my heart monitor” - Lily on pain killers to James

"I don't think I can lick that, can I?" -Sirius playing goat simulator

watching cloudy with a chance of meatballs and it's at the part where the mayor destroys the machine and James says " I hope you see the error of your ways, you glutton!”

(talking about Cameron Monaghan) the murder child from my chemical romance - Sirius

"Fuckin’ Sirius"- Remus while asleep

Sirius "I've got middle fingers and i'm not afraid to use them" Regulus: "do it" Sirius "I’m a little afraid to use them"

Peter while asleep: groans and sits up fast James: "you okay?" Peter "not really." James: "What's wrong?" Peter: "I'm gonna have to use the loo to solve the thing."

Sirius: "So were you born in 2006, 2007?" Narcissa: "i was born in 2004" Regulus: "i don't mean this in a mean way but wow you are old"

Sirius: "I WANNA HOLD YOU" Remus "NO, LET ME MAKE COFFEE THEN YOU CAN"

Barty: "I'm gonna do a line off your dresser"

Barty: "i have a headache" pauses "and i have 2 more lines to do"

Mary: "I don't have to do acid I have the that back massager that messes with my balance receptor"

Barty: suddenly sits up Regulus: “are you okay” Barty: “i don't know, i'm just gonna go to sleep and try to see what's going on”

Barty: "Why not use a shotgun, it's easier, this is america." (was not in america)

"stop licking the oreos" - Reg @ Barty

"Do i really have to tell you not to mate with the cat"- McGonagall @ the marauders

Remus: “I can feel the brain damage,, and i've got another line”

“MY TRAUMA CAN'T HANDLE THIS!”- Sirius

“Ball licky licky titty croissant” - James trying to learn french from Regulus

“Ooo yay i love being kidnapped!”- Barty probably at some point

“The 3 c's cook, clean, cocktails”- Remus “The 3 b's bake broil blowjobs”- Sirius

“LET ME UPLOAD MY PORN DAMNIT” - Marlene probably

"Dorcas you should be my sugar mommy" - Pandora

"An air whore" Remus

"My skyrim character is Schizophrenic" - James

"I wanna blow up pumpkins, and People!!!!" -Bellatrix

"I can taste it in my eyeballs" - James

"you can't take terrorists to the airport"-Peter

"I'm really bad at swallowing" - Sirius

“you can't fuck a duck, you'd have to seduce it” - Evan

"Hey your boobs are crooked"- Marlene

"i’m sorry, i accused you of taking my grandpa" -Sirius

"im a gay virgin"-Regulus

"duck now motherfucker" Sirius @ James

"i wanna become a rug or everyone does a line of my ashes when i die" - Remus

"you can't be funny while I'm smoking" -Remus @ First year after he walked out the door

"I'm leaving, i don't care that much about being drug free" - Barty

#barty crouch jr #evan rosier #slytherin skittles #marauders #james potter #regulus black #sirius black #remus lupin #incorrect marauders quotes #peter pettigrew #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #the valkyries #the marauders era #mary macdonald #pandora lovegood #bellatrix lestrange #narcissa black #professor mcgonagall #minnie mcgonagall #nymphadora tonks #andromeda black #andromeda tonks

[samstclair]

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

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"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

#tommy shelby #peaky blinders #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x y/n #cillian murphy #cillian x reader #cillian x fem!reader #fanfiction #imagine #smut #x reader #oppenheimer #oppenheimer x reader

[albatris]

find the word tag!

thank you @illarian-rambling for tagging me in my favourite tag :3

my words are animal, ocean, pick and wall

ANIMAL

"Hey, Nat, where do you get your blood from?" She carried on without waiting for a reply. "I get mine from a slaughterhouse out in the country. Whole place run by vampires. Pretty neat business, super friendly. Do you want me to hook you up?"

Nat’s face scrunched up before he thought to stop it, and he was glad Riley was focused on the TV. "I couldn’t do that. I’m a vegetarian."

"Oh, dude, are you?" Riley said. "That’s fucking unfortunate. Vegetarian vampire. Oof. You squeamish about blood, then?"

Nat hadn’t considered this. "I’m… squeamish about animal blood. As long as I don’t drink animal blood I’m still a vegetarian."

"People don’t count?"

"Nah, I don’t think people count."

"Right on, dude." Riley skewered several aliens on her sword. "You’re so weird."

Nat filled the kettle and put it on.

"Animal blood isn’t as nice as human blood, anyway, hey?" Riley said. "But you’re not, like, killing someone every time you need a meal, right? Right? Nat?"

"No! Of course not!” Nat said. “I have a friend helping me out." A friend whose texts you’re ignoring.

OCEAN

Cypress Heights was one of those suburbs. Filled to bursting point with sprawling botanic gardens and multi-storey houses and boutique stores where everything cost more than Nat’s entire payslip. The streets were gorgeous and the schools were posh, but in the nice way. The way that spat out prim, proper kids born of opportunity, who always made a good impression on everyone and had articles written about them in newspapers. Darwelaide teen’s unconventional new method of cleaning oceans proves most effective world has ever seen!

Not to say all Cypress Heights kids were insanely successful, and not to say all Nats and Lyras were not. But if you scooped up a bucket of Cypress Heights kids and a bucket of Nats and Lyras and compared them as a whole, you could sure see the difference.

PICK

A pulse picked up pace somewhere ahead of him, hammering frantically out of time with his own, as his prey realised the position it was in. Nat started down the hall, footsteps light and springing and utterly soundless. He could hear it all, feel it all, in the vibrations through the building, in the air—the shuffling of a moving body, the swish of clothing in motion, the fearful, rapid press of shoes across tile. His throat ached. His mouth watered. The Garble pushed through his veins, tripped all the right wires in his head, sent pulsating, twitching, radiating warmth through every inch of his body. Rewarding him for the good job he was doing. Urging him to continue.

This was what he was built for. This was the most natural thing in the universe.

Nat broke into a run.

WALL

“Make yourself comfortable!” they said, and headed for the staircase at the far room. “I’ll be back in just a tick—I’m going to put your clothes in the wash.”

“Okay,” Nat said, distracted.

He supposed this was a living room. It looked more like a museum than a house, with its curling arched ceilings and marble floors. A twisting abstract sculpture stood by a set of double swing doors leading out of the room: shimmering blue and green glass, folded over itself like a ribbon, reaching up towards the roof. Abstract paintings loomed on every wall, confusing splashes of colour and shape, including one Nat thought looked rather like a dog chewing on the leg of a chair. Up a short step and to the right of the living room lay a lush dining room, with a marble table to match the floors. The table runner was strewn with candles and flower petals. Soft. Delicate. Nat already felt out of place here, like a scab that had started to itch.

I'm gonna tag @chauceryfairytales @tracle0 and anyone who can see a CAT right now :3

for the words storm, bite, bring and settle!

#a rental car takes a left down rake street and disappears

[morallyinept]

A full transcribe of JOEL MILLER'S dialogue/lines from the TV show THE LAST OF US.

EPISODE 3 - FOR A LONG, LONG TIME

Includes full dialogue, and dialogue from any deleted/additional scenes available.

I've created this as a point of reference when writing for Pedro's characters, and I hope you find it useful. Even if you just want to read the dialogue. 🖤

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

☝🏻Dialogue has been fully transcribed by myself using reference to original scripts (if available), audio subtitles and using my own two ears. Therefore, mistakes can be made, however I have tried to be as fully accurate as I can. If you spot an obvious mistake, please kindly let me know. Where audio is not clear, I have marked with *inaudible* Scenes are separated for ease of reference.

FULL SCRIPT DIALOGUE:

I don’t want your sorrys-

Five hour hike. 

__________________

Not often, no.

People. 

Frank is. 

I didn’t fall down any stairs. 

Someone shot at me and missed. 

Yeah. 

No, I missed too. It happens more often than you think. 

In general.

No. 

Hang back a minute. I gotta grab some stuff I stashed. 

You ask a lot of Goddamn questions. 

__________________

We hide supplies on routes in case we find ourselves short on gear, which I currently am 'cause-

No. I’m just zeroing in on it. It’s been a couple of years.

Trust me, it’s all been picked over already. 

Just you. 

Fuck. 

__________________

Ellie? Ellie! 

Ellie?

There’s not much ammo out there for this thing. Makes it mostly useless. 

No. 

__________________

A few times, sure. 

Didn’t feel like it at the time. Get shoved into a middle seat, pay 12 bucks for a sandwich. 

Yeah, well. So did they. 

Pretty much. 

It wasn’t a monkey. I thought you went to school. 

No-one knows for sure, but… best guess… Cordyceps mutated. And some of it got into the food supply. Probably a basic ingredient like flour or sugar. There were certain brands of food that were sold everywhere, all across the country, across the world. Bread, cereal… pancake mix. You eat enough of it, it’ll get ya infected. So the tainted food all hits the store shelves around the same time Thursday. People brought it, ate some Thursday night, or Friday mornin'. Day goes on… they started to get sick. Afternoon, evening, they got worse. Then they started bitin’.  Friday night, September 26, 2003. And by Monday, everything was gone. 

Sure. 

We’ll cut across the woods here. 

Yeah, it’s just… There’s stuff up there you shouldn’t see. 

I don’t want you to. 

I’m serious. Ellie.

No. 

About a week after Outbreak Day, soldiers… went through the countryside, evacuated the small towns. Told you you were going to a QZ, and you were… if there was room. If there wasn’t… 

No, probably not. 

Dead people can’t be infected. 

__________________

I’m the same way. 

I understand. If my, uh… if mine… brought strangers into our situation, I wouldn’t be happy either. But of all the people he could’ve found on the radio, we’re actually decent people just tryin’ to get by. 

There’s stuff we have in the QZ that you don’t have here. Book, medicine, machine parts. We can help each other and get that gun outta my face. 

So, what, you were a… prepper or somethin’?

That fence has got a year on it, tops. Galvanised wire already started to corrode. I can get you ten spools of high-tensile aluminium. Last you the rest of your life. Lives. 

FEDRA’s never gonna come up here. And you’re well protected against stray infected. But sooner or later, they’ll be raiders. And they’ll beat that fence and your trip wires. They’ll come at night, quiet and armed. 

__________________

You stay there. 

Bill? Frank?

You stay there. You hear anything, you see anything… yell.

__________________

Ellie?

So they’re dead?

Go ahead. You do it. 

Stay here. 

__________________

Show me your arm. 

I just finished making a truck battery, it's charging right now. 

And I have a brother out in Wyoming. He’s in some kind of trouble and I’m heading out there to find him. He used to be a Firefly. My guess is he knows where some of them are out there. Maybe they can get you to wherever this lab is. 

If I’m takin’ you with me, there’s some rules you gotta follow. Rule one, you don’t bring up Tess. Ever. Matter of fact, we can just keep our histories to ourselves. Rule two, you don’t tell anyone about your… condition. They see that bite mark, they won’t think it through. They’ll just shoot you. Rule three, you do what I say when I say it. We clear?

Repeat it. 

Okay. 

We grab what we can. 

__________________

If he didn’t reset the countdown every few weeks, this playlist would run over the radio. 

Grab some cans from over there. Nothin’ dented or swollen.

No. 

Needs another hour. 

__________________

Shut up.

__________________

It’s your first time in a car? 

No, it’s a piece-of-shit Chevy S-10, but it’ll get us there. I think. Seatbelt. Seatbelt.

Would you leave it? Put it back. Ellie... 

Oh, no, wait. No, leave it. Leave it. Ohm this is good. This is Linda Ronstadt. Do you know who Linda Ronstadt is? 

Oh, man. 

__________________

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller the last of us #pedro pascal characters #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal character dialogue #joel miller dialogue #PPCU

[zv5x]

Yandere Riddler with a Reader who has a strong moral compass just like him? They believe most of the things he does, believing in stopping corrupted people, etc while not having Ed's delusions. So, when Edward actually kidnaps them, they aren't afraid to point out how morally messed up he's being and point out flaws in his plans and how contradictory they are, further breaking Ed's image of his love and of his pre-perceived perception of himself.

Welcome back, ZV5X!

Pairing : The Riddler (The Batman 2022) • Gender Neutral reader Warnings : USE OF THE YANDERE TROPE , kidnappings, toxic mindsets and abusive situations, mentions of yelling and raising of tone, psychological intimidation

"To me, calling this love is almost an insult." You clicked your tongue, letting your morality hold power over your better judgement. With a brain as fragile as this man's, confrontation was a near death wish. However, you poked onwards, picking at his delusions as ifit was cheap, chipping paint. "I'm not going to sit here and justify this behavior-"

"Shut up." His tone was flat, almost as if he was trying his very hardest to hold himself together.

He was warning you, and he would only warn you once.

"If anything, it's a display of power you feel you don't have. Whatever it may be, don't you dare tell me this is love!" At that, the man before you picked up a glass on the table and chucked it at the wall. It shattered above you, glass shards coming down onto your head and causing small bursts of pain to run throughout your scalp. You shut your eyes tightly and looked down, hoping that would shield your sensitive eyes from what would no doubt destroy them if contact was made.

"Shut the fuck UP! You don't know the last thing about love! You're a brainwashed puppet, only existing to fill your place in a society that wouldn't even care if you were gored on the streets! Do you really think anyone cares about you as much as I do? Loves you as much as I do?" He laughed, but not a laugh of entertainment; it was a laugh of pure lunacy. "No, no baby, that's not true and you know that." He walked up to you, kneeling down to your level and letting glass crunch underneath his boot. "You don't know the last thing about love." The man was incredibly gentle now, tilting your head upwards so he could look you in the eye. His glasses were gleaming, the eyes behind them half-lidded with affection. "But that's okay, my love. I can teach you."

"W-what? What do you-?"

"You have so many flawed ideas about this world. Like how it's changeable with non-violent methods, and how people like us live in a world where we don't need to fight back." He held up air quotes to accompany his words, giggling at your perceived foolishness. "I can fix that, my dear. I can fix you. We're both gonna be okay. All it's gonna take is a little focused effort, and I'll have you right where I am right now. You'll be fine, we'll be fine; and nobody will ever be able to hurt us again."

As much as it disgusted you, he leaned inwards and kissed you on the cheek. "It's okay. I understand you're wired differently than I am; that you're less likely to see the world in the way that I do. That's why I have to help you, so you can finally love yourself as much as I love you. You can't love yourself unless you come to despise the people that hurt you, (Y/N). Did you know that? It's a hard pill to swallow, isn't it?"

You didn't respond. How could you? There wasn't anything that could be said to convince this sick man that his ideals were incorrect. If you tried, you'd get another glass thrown at your head. You'd let him speak, while also scowering this room for any kind of useful objects or information.

There was a window right in the middle of many other buildings, which was nice. Perhaps you could come loose from your restraints and scream out of it for some sort of help. You couldn't help but smile to yourself at the thought of leaving, a gesture your captor immediately took to heart.

"I know you're just as happy as I am, love." Once again, he kissed you, and you had to refrain from gagging as his lips pressed against yours. "We'll start with that scummy public defender who lives about 10 minutes away. Teaching him a lesson would be a good lesson for you too, don't you think angel?"

#the batman riddler #batman riddler #riddler fanfic #riddler #paul dano x reader #danonator #paul dano #danoverse #dano riddler #edward nashton x reader #riddler x reader #x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #yandere boy #yandere male #male yandere #yandere #yandere riddler #yandere riddle x reader

[moe-broey]

MEANWHILE. In another realm. I've revisited Alear's FB's

I FEEL LIKE. Alfonse's problem isn't so much that he's emotionally guarded, despite, you know, being extremely emotionally guarded. It's that He Isn't. Like. At the same time.

Consistently, without fail, Alfonse puts himself in situations where he's amicable and helpful. Their C support consists of Alfonse helping Alear see to her own odds and ends, having been brought to Askr with nothing but the clothes on her back. A common situation! He gets her a ring case to put all her rings in. So here, he's helping. And when Alear shows him the rings, and tells him the lore/significance of the rings, he takes an interest -- because of course he would! That sort of thing is right up his alley. And so he's not only amicable enough to be approachable, he's also showing interest in the things she's interested in, and having a spirited conversation about it.

Their B support consists of more of the same, just getting into the details of how Emblems work. HE DOESN'T REALIZE IT YET. But he's bonding with Alear. This goofy ass motherfucker doesn't realize this is literally how friendships are formed. Like I'm convinced he's thinking they're just talking lore and stuff and it's a casual conversation between casual allies and surely nothing emotionally charged will come out of this. He's just being friendly (without NECESSARILY becoming Friends) and there's nothing more to it, there Will be nothing more to it.

A support.

She voices A Problem. TWO things about Alfonse. 1) He was built in a lab to be a fixer (juries still out on his methods/solutions) and 2) He takes things SO personally when he relates to it. PVP enabled he's going to fucking get your ass about it. He is sooooooooo emotionally distant Up Until you fucking provoke him (AND THIS. ISN'T EVEN ENTIRELY TRUE. BC WHAT HE DOESN'T REALIZE IS GENUINELY BONDING OVER SHARED INTERESTS COUNTS TOWARDS BECOMING INVESTED IN THAT PERSON which is HOW he ended up in The Situation in the FIRST PLACE).

Which leads to him "helping" (POORLY.) (Because in all of this he IS still wired to help people)

Which just pisses him off even MORE, believing he has the Correct and Inevitable perspective and desperately wants to get Alear to see it the same way, doubling down.

(Bro I am going to hit image limit again before even making my point..... AUGH)

Alear's next lines, "That's true, but won't keeping my distance mean I appreciate them less while I have them?" / "Is that how you see your relationships with Heroes? With me?" / "No matter how much time we spend together, you'll always keep me at arm's length for when I have to go?"

Here, I think Alear is expressing to him she already sees him as her friend. I don't think Alfonse picks up on it though, trying again to get her to see his side of the issue -- as if, in his mind, they're just debating and not having an emotional conversation.

Alfonse's next lines: "Consider it from my perspective. If I am too attached to you, and you leave, I could lose my will to fight." (ALFONSE. ALFONSE. COME ON MAN.) (LIKE. Idk man if you're saying shit like that I think it's too late. It's so over for you.)

THIS ONE THOUGH. I THINK. PLEASE staywith me but it is the root of it all

Euden's (named Milo here lmfao Milo jumpscare) next line: "Do you not feel the same way about us?"

Alfonse's lines: "My apologies, but no. The forming of friendships is a thing I don't take lightly." / "It's true that I rely on the assistance of Heroes summoned from different worlds when fighting, but that is wholly different."

Alfonse lines (continued): "I have a duty, and can't afford such hurt. So if I grow close to someone, I do so accepting the potential consequences."

AAAAUGHHHH WHAT IS MY THESIS. WHAT THE FUCK AM I TALKING ABOUT. I HAVE MORE CONNECTIONS TO MAKE. AND FOR WHAT‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

SOMEHOW. His Book 1 (p sure they're from Book 1) lines to Kiran that go, "I suppose we don't know much about your world. And how rude of us to not ask until now!" / "What? Your world has buildings that scrape the sky? And what do you mean by 'cars'?" / "Like wagons... that run without horses... and are made out of metal? Fascinating." <- THESE LINES. Combined with his smiling sprite. TO ME are a direct parallel to his C and B Alear conversations, HOW, he's taking an interest in Kiran and without realizing he's growing a fondness for them.

Something SOMETHING about his cognitive dissonance about how he can be friendly without "being friends", how he's afraid of caring too much when it's clear he already cares at least a little ESPECIALLY SHOWN. In how, Alfonse doesn't realize he could have hurt Alear's feelings until she directly states it: "I understand. Still... it makes me sad."

ONLY THEN he gets his panicked(?) sprite, replying, "I apologize for upsetting you." It's here I think he finally realizes, OH. THIS IS. An emotional conversation and not like a debate of ideals and I feel bad for hurting you. BECAUSE!!!!!!!! HE'S COME TO CARE ABOUT ALEAR!!!!!!!!! IN ALL OF THIS!!!!!!!!! Whether he's fully aware of it or not, whether he LIKES it or not, he cares about her feelings and wants to make it right. Into, expressing (again that PVP "Well I took that personally" reaction he has): "I suppose it's just that, when you talk about the Emblems, how you worry, I feel as if I'm hearing my own voice."

Which S support, sets up for a resolution and mutual understanding peace and love all is well with the world 👍

ALSO the parallel to Euden, since this is the very start of what would be analogous to support conversations (side story content unlocked by powering up the character), Euden takes Alfonse's response to him in stride -- since, there's no real emotional stakes. Aside from, Euden wishing they could be friends (since he's just built like that), but ultimately giving Alfonse space and respecting his feelings about it. The Point: While they've been working together, Alfonse hasn't Quite developed that fondness yet I don't think (esp from what I remember from the main plot of the crossover event, which is next to nothing LMFAO). It develops later!!!!!!

If I hadn't hit image limit I would insert the What the FUCK are you two talking about meme here like. What the fuck AM I talking about. Can someone else make this post actually I don't think I'm qualified 😭😭😭😭😭😭

MAIN POINT.

I look at Alfonse and I go I think I hauve covid.

#fire emblem #feh #i'm half tempted to pick through dimitri's fbs again and identify where alfonse is in too deep for him too #absolute trainwreck of a post. great job everyoen (me) let's hit the showers. #i also think i can pick apart his level 40 convo but pleadse. i've already suffered so mcuh. #i have scrambled egg brain EVEN WHEN I HAVE AHDHD MEDS #fe alfonse #alear #euden #DRAGALIA LOST JUMPSCARE‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

[devourerofcheesecake]

Preface: I’m really new to whump and I know nothing about this. I’m willing to be proved wrong on all the point that I will make, just please be kind

Ok, now that’s over with, I’d like to say, that I don’t really understand the appeal of the ‘boy boxed universe’.

I talked about it with my bf earlier, and I’ve got several bones to pick:

1.) Logistically in a world building setting it doesn’t make sense. There would have to be a BIG societal leap to having human pets normalized. There’s prob works that show these big changes, but from the stories I’ve seen so far I haven’t seen them.

What happened? Why did keeping a human pet become a societal norm in universe? Is this a recent event, or were people just doing this since we started living in caves?

What the fuck are whumpers doing for work??? How do they have all this extra money to feed a lil guy in their home?? That’s a lot of money, it’s like raising a kid. And that’s on top of torture equipment. I just KNOW the economy is fucked because of this. I don’t know a lot about economy stuff, but Im not sure how half the labor force being kept in cages is helping money problems

“Think of the children!!” No seriously think of the children. They are living in a world where it’s normalized to be kidnapped. Their options are to be kept inside their whole lives or be taken by creeps. Do parents just not love their children in this universe, do they sell them off at a young age?? If they are kept inside their whole lives, doesn’t that emotionally stunt them? Is this what fuels the in-universe normalized whump fire? Children growing up emotionally stunted and not knowing how to regulate their feelings, resulting in adults who torture people?? That makes sense. but seriously, do parents go out to the mall with their family and see a dude on a leash being dragged by another dude?

From the stories I’ve seen so far, possession of a whumpee is free for all. If you steal them from someone, they are yours now. That doesn’t make sense?? If society is gonna run like this and STILL have a system of justice, an ownership system has to be established. You’ve kidnapped your whumpee, now you have to register them and fill out paperwork to the IRS about tax deductibles.

Feel free to skip this part, IK it’s stupid to talk about human rights when talking about Whump. But seriously, WTH is happening with human rights???? Not EVERYONE is going to whip their pet on a daily basis, and it’s gonna freak someone out each time they see someone walking around with burned skin, or barbed wire, ect. Is some of the abuses that occur looked on in disgust? Is there a law system saying you can’t do certain things to your pet? If this thing is a recent event, is there people who are vehemently against it? Is there a group of caretakers that provide safe havens? HOW normalized is this? Does everyone have a pet or is it just an occasional practice? If basic human rights are being ignored, what’s happening to lgbt rights? Women’s rights? Racial rights?

Is there websites to get a whumpee? Is this more like Facebook market place or Tinder? Can you match with your whumpee, and if so does whumpee consent to this or no. Do they list themselves or does someone else do it for them

2.) Idk Im just not a big fan of it. I’m willing to be proved wrong, but normalization of human pets kinda bores me. As my bf said, it removes the horror of the situation. Kidnapping someone should be a deeply terrifying practice, and if it’s widespread it loses the fun. Plus, I like the stories where torture is an intimate thing. It’s no fun if you are being tortured by a regular shmo, it needs to be someone who’s unhealthily obsessed with you and wants to forcefully explore limits

Yea idk, willing to be proved wrong, and please feel free to send me works that explore these world building things!!

#athena screams into the void #and it does not answer back #Whump #normalized whump #pet whump #I have questions and I’d like to have them answered please #bbu

[themoonsbride]

Protective Peter is just something else.. 🥵 Andd because of him I was thinking about requesting one shot with him - where reader is scared, sitting in the chair with the scientists around her, listening their talking about another experiments they want to do on her, and when she's almost crying, Peter enters the room and with just one move of his hand all the scientists are dead 🤭 I just know that he would be the most protective boyfriend ever 🤤

I had fun writing this !! thank you so much for your request beautiful ♡

Give Me Your Heart And Your Hand And We Can Run .

pairing; Protective!boyfriend!Peter Ballard x Fem!Reader

summary; In the request! readers scared whilst listening to the scientists talk about tests to run on her, and when she finds herself on the edge of tears, Peter comes in and takes her away. <3

warnings; mentions of murder, crying, extreme fear

a/n; I'm trying so hard to think of something to write for Anthony Hope oh my god it's not even funny

--×♥︎×--

The sound of printing and machinery filled the room, but the fear was the only thing blanking everything out. Your skin prickled with goosebumps.

Scientists were inside of the testing room, where you'd been forced into. You didn't want to do this, you missed the outside world.

People must've thought you were dead, or just went missing, maybe even moved. You hated to think about it, you weren't dead, you were kidnapped.

You tried to focus on reality, fear was consuming you, bound to swallow you whole at some point.

Suddenly there was a headset being forced onto your head, thankfully they wouldn't be buzzing you to your scalp since you were 28.

At least they allowed you some sort of freedom, but only because you knew the fucked intentions or Hawkins Labrotory.

You'd read the newspapers, the articles, hell you've seen the building for yourself before you became trapped inside if that place like someone trapped a hamster inside a cage.

And the facility making you play along in their tests and mess of genetics to give you physiological powers was like the hamster running on the wheel.

You focused your attention on the white walls, then the tiled flooring, the feeling of the headset thats wrapped around your head, and suddenly reality had pulled you back to itself.

"Is Brenner going to allow us to put her inside of the Nina project?" One of the female scientists asked, your ears were suddenly one of the most active senses you had.

You glanced up at the camera in the corner, the red blinking light was the most color there could've been inside the room.

You looked down at the floor, it had a shine to it from the nauseating white lights in the ceiling slabs. it reminded you of the classroom ceiling from high school.

"Brenner hasn't had any of the others test out the Nina project, it could be dangerous."

"But he needs a test subject, we could use her instead of risking one of the children subjects."

Your breathe caught inside of your throat. Children subjects? what the fuck? this rancid place tested on children?

"No, Brenner strictly informed us to not interfere her with anything else until we've studied her brain enough to estimate what she can and cannot do."

"It's still worth a chance to confrence with him and discuss having use her as a test run for Nina."

Your heart rate felt like it was beginning to speed as your fear began to swallow and digest you.

"Fine, we will conference with Brenner and discuss it then, but as of now we are focusing on seeing if her mind can handle the challenge of the test examples we have in place."

You weren't sure if you'd ever make it out if this building alive, or what it would've mattered even if you did, how would you cover it up to the outside world? where people didn't know the containments of Hawkins Labrotory.

You didn't want to be here, or anywhere else in the building, you weren't sure where you wanted to be, you just wanted to get away.

Your throat began to feel sore, like there was a wire wrapping itself in your nerves of your neck, and your eyes became soggy.

This was not what you would've expected your adult-life to have turned into, a lab rat. Your life has been now officially thrown away, and all you could do is live in fear.

Except that's not whats happening. And you knew that everything was now changing for you and your future when you saw the man you'd fallen in love with opened the door those scientists forced you behind.

He seemed normal, except he looked at you, for a split second, but it didn't feel like a normal glance he'd spare you, he was telling you something.

You couldn't piece together what though, what was he telling you?

"Is there something in need for you Mr. Ballard?"

"Yes, actually, I'm in need of Ms. L/n." His voice seemed firm

"Did Brenner ask you to escourt her to him?"

"Not quite."

"We're going to have to ask you to leave-"

"Gladly." And with the quick turn of his head, they all dropped dead.

You gasped quickly, as he walked over to you whilst the alarms throughout entire facility blarred.

"What did.. What did you just do?!" You asked him as he grabbed your hand, the both of you running out of the room.

"I took care of them so we can leave, like they asked us too." He looked over at you whilst the two of you ran, hand in hand and undoubtedly in love, smiling cheekily.

#peter ballard #peter ballard x reader #peter ballard fluff #peter ballard x you #henry creel #henry creel x y/n #henry creel x reader #henry creel fanfiction #001 fluff #001 x reader #001 #jcb roles

[n3on-graveston3s-calling]

A Mask to Hide My Sins

Characters: Killer, Eustass Kidd, Heat

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,135

Warnings: Anxiety, Dissociation, Facial Dysmorphia

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The mask had been a gift.

He’d been nineteen years old, wearing a bandana across the lower half of his face when Kidd had walked over with a sense of purpose. One year since the death of Victoria, one year since the formation of the Kidd Pirates. He’d known Kidd for years before this, though; had considered him his closest friend, despite their own past gangs having clashed on occasion. But that was in the past, really; not something that was worth being brought up. Not when Kidd had done so much for all of them.

For him.

“Here.” Kidd plopped a hunk of metal in his lap, drawing his attention down to stare at it for a moment.

From his point of view, it looked like a bowl. “Is it a bowl for my noodles?” He asked, listening to the way Kidd groaned in frustration as he reached over to flip it around. “Oh!” His eyes widened beneath heavy blonde bangs, taking in the sight of the mask. A mask. “For me?”

“Who the fuck else would it be for?” Kidd huffed, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck, cheeks flushing a shade of red that nearly rivaled the vibrancy of his hair. “So you don’t have to wear that stupid bandana anymore.”

Killer reached up, moving his hair out of the way to grasp the ends of the bandana, tugging the knot free. The blue and white fabric fell; the tone was close to the colors of the metal Kidd had used to create the mask. And he’d drilled holes into it? Holes- holes that would allow him to eat his pasta through. Or any noodles, at that! Anything stick shaped-

With shaking hands, he brought the helmet up and settled it over his head. It was a perfect fit; cushioned inside to aid with protecting his head from any damage sustained in a fight. “Boss,” he murmured, feeling a swell of what could only be described as fondness take over. He reached out, tugging Kidd into a tight embrace that Kidd immediately tried to squirm out of like an angered feline.

“Lemme go, you big oaf!” Kidd huffed, before relenting, arms winding around Killer’s middle. “Looks better than a stupid bandana,” he muttered, even though he felt near bursting with pride.

That had been almost eight years ago. And still, the helmet remained. Killer’s lips pulled into a grin as he polished the metal with careful touches, making sure it gleamed when he held it to the light. Sure, it’d sustained damage over the years, but Kidd always fixed it, or Heat would help heat up the metal enough that it could be readjusted, or Wire would work some magic with his talent for fixing things.

They’d be nearing Dressrosa soon; the New World had already posed more than a few challenges for them, if Big Mom was any indication. Nothing that they couldn’t handle surely. Fingers tapped along the surface of the mask as Killer looked up from it, catching sight of his reflection.

Wire had cut his hair a week ago; it was getting too long, hanging past his knees, and there was simply too much to even wear the helmet with. So, Wire had sat him down one evening when the ocean had been calm and started cutting away. Inch after inch of golden tresses had fallen to the deck of the Victoria until the longest layers no longer fell to his knees, but rather, to mid-back. He even thinned it out a touch, reshaped the layers and his bangs to fall better, settling in a manner that would impede upon his vision within the helmet.

He watched as his lips pulled into a smile before grimacing at the sight; sangria lipstick only highlighted the movement, but he’d be damned if he stopped wearing it. A habit picked up from Kidd, years ago. He couldn’t stand to look at himself. It made his skin crawl to see the features that were reminiscent of people he’d loathe to call family. Turning quickly on his heel, he pulled the helmet down over his head quickly. The sound of his own heartbeat echoed within his ears as his pulse kicked up; his breathing made for a backing track. His own wretched symphony.

“Kill?” Eustass called, poking his head into Killer’s quarters. His head tilted as he studied his partner curiously. “You comin’ up on deck?”

“In a minute.” Killer replied tensley, voice straining.

Ah. Kidd sighed as he crossed the small room with large strides, the distance closing quickly. He reached beyond Killer, tugging the nearly sheer blanket down over the grungy old mirror they’d found on another ship nearly four years ago. “C’mon, you’re gonna wanna see it when we get to Dressrosa, yeah?”

Killer swallowed roughly before bobbing his head in a ‘yes’.

“I’ve got you,” murmuring, Kidd’s arm wrapped around his shoulders, nudging him into movement. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere.” The rough lilt of his words was familiar; a comfort to him. A sigh spilled free as they left the room. The deck was busy above them. Kidd didn’t force him up just yet- pausing at the steps that would lead them up onto the deck of the Victoria Punk. “We’re in this together.”

“We are.” It wasn’t something that was necessary to say out loud; Killer would be by Kidd’s side until their end. Hell, he’d gladly sacrifice his life, his everything, if it meant keeping Kidd alive, keeping him safe. His closest friend, his confidant, his Captain. Swallowing down the feelings that threatened to spill from his lips, he moved past Kidd, stepping up and into the cool air that greeted him. The sea breeze was nice, better than the stuffiness from below deck.

To his left, Heat stood, engrossed in conversation with Bubblegum. To his right, Wire sat on the deck, attempting to tame Dive’s hair for the day. Kidd stepped beside him, his hand clapping over his shoulder, jolting him. Awake, aware. “How long until we drop anchor?” Killer asked, following Kidd by half a step as they moved across the deck. He could just barely see a spot on the horizon. Dressrosa.

“Couple’a hours, yet,” Kidd decided after a moment of contemplation, glancing over his shoulder up to the helmet that covered Killer’s face. “Sound right to you?”

Killer nodded; he could no longer hear his heartbeat within his ears, nor could he focus on the sound of his breathing. He wasn’t back on that island in the South Blue. He wasn’t kneeling with blood on his hands, tears in his eyes. He wasn’t watching Kidd make a decision that would change their lives.

He was here, on the deck of the Victoria Punk.

#one piece #massacre soldier killer #eustass captain kidd #kidd pirates #killerkid #tw: facial dysmorphia #tw: anxiety #writing's of a mad author (fanfiction)

[a-friend-of-mara]

Hey uh

I'm leaving my mask at the door for a minute

If you enjoy the image of myself I put forward, the happy cheery autistic trans girl who doesn't dwell on her issues

Please just ignore this post

If you are uncomfortable with mentions of self harm, talking about non prescription drug addiction, suicide rates of trans kids

Please just go

Look

I say my biggest fear is that I'll be forgotten

It's easier than saying that I'm scared to death of myself

I'm worried I'll give up on life and stop eating... considering I can't gain or maintain weight I'd have a week before I was dead at the most

I'm afraid that I'll give up trying to look like the person I want to be rather than being stuck, trapped in a body that isn't mine but I'm wired up to like some sick torture method

I don't want to fall into drug use or self harm hoping that it'd pull me out of this pit of self hatred and hopelessness

I don't wanna be another tally mark on the trans suicide charts

I don't wanna die

I feel like I'm suffocating

That I can't move my legs... only the ones attached to me

I don't even know if I matter at this point

I just

I wanna be me

Not some false image that I was born with

Nobody understands how it is for me

My dad almost killed me with th fact he understood so little he put me into survival mode where I cared about nothing but staying alive because of how much damage his insistence that my body was in fact his son and not the cage that trapped his daughter

He used to have twins now he just has one kid with her twin sister... my sister

Now I live with my mom who doesn't understand, how could she? She's never wanted to tear her skin off because it wasn't hers... she understands how much I hurt though

She's able to see through my mask that I'm really suffering inside

Without her yall wouldn't have ever known I existed

You would've heard a news article of a trans kid who killed herself by diving off the balcony at her school although the media would misgender me.

I've almost done it

Sitting on the edge of a lethal drop fighting with myself to not do it

Not sure if I was lying when i told myself things would get better

I'm not sure if they are

Everything just keeps getting worse and worse

I can't even cry anymore

I don't care about so many things that I used to

I used to love

Then I was heartbroken

I used to care for my friends

Until I moved away

I used to enjoy helping others

Now I'm so tired I can't

Just

Fuck

It's kinda funny

How part of me thinks it's all my fault

How I'm not sure if it's something I did

But then I have to think

What could I possibly have done that'd make this torment justified?

How can any higher power exist when I've prayed to every God and Goddess I've ever learned of and not once has a goddam thing happened

How would a higher power let the world get this fucked up

Fuckin hell

My trans siblings are getting murdered for being themselves

Innocent people who live in unfortunate places are being killed because of stupid ass reasons

Fucking hell in America most people aren't free enough to take a month off work without becoming homeless

Decades of prejudice make people think women are weak and need defending but don't pay them well because... fuckin I don't know why!

It's pathetic that men get away with rape while women get away with false rape accusations usually destroying every relationship the man ever cared about

People look at others and treat them differently based on the color of their skin

YA KNOW HOW FUCKIN STUPID THAT IS?!

ITS DUMBER THAN PICKING ON SOMEONE WHO WORE A BLUE SHIRT PURELY BECAUSE OF THE SHIRT

What for?!

WHAT THE FUCK IS ALL THIS FOR?!

The privilege to go through 12 to 20 years of school to earn the right to have to work a job I'll probably hate until I'm like 60?!

Right now I'm pretty sure my life is gonna end before I reach 30!

What's the fuckin point?!

America for fucks sake

The land of the free

Yeah free to work or die because the 0.01% run the fucking nation like their playground

People wonder why I've responded to hostility with hostility in the last 3 years

Simple

I've bottled my emotions for so long the bottles are all full

Yelling and ranting always make me feel a little better

If anyone comments on this negatively I hope you die in a vat of boiling vinegar and drown in the yolks of rotten eggs

That goes for all the phobic people too

If you made it through this whole essay sized emotional breakdown and don't think I'm a complaining winey bitch

I can only say I wish the world was made of more people like you

Alright

Time for sleep

#tw: depression #tw depressing stuff #tw self destructive behavior #trans #trans woman #me #depressing shit #trans struggles