#they upset him. now its not like he's the only character this happens to be jesus fucking christ

[krawlernyannyan]

IT'S ALL ABOUT ENA (ft. SUNDAY WAS THE BAD GUY ALL ALONG)

After the v2.2 trailer I'm really starting to think the events going on in Penacony are somehow deeply tied to Ena the Order. At first I thought all the Order motifs (i.e. the eye symbol of Order being all over) around Penacony were just cool worldbuilding details about how the Harmony must've adopted the Order's symbology on top of THEIR Path, but now...

Like the thing that's really tipping me off here is all the goddamn puppets. The final boss of which is religiously-themed.

This is an insane idea but what if everything that's been going on in Penacony has been the result of somebody trying to re-establish contact with Ena and/or the Path of Order? One of the major discoveries we made in v2.1 was that something's wrong with the Harmony, so what if the Harmony on Penacony is being corrupted in such a way that it aligns more with the Order? It's not even hard to see how.

The Harmony should be about cooperation, resolving differences, mutual understanding, but on Penacony that's not remotely the case. The Family's main tactic to keep the peace has been robbing people of their memories and emotions - keeping them in control not necessarily so people can heal, but to keep them in line and serve their designated functions. The Family on Penacony has already been debasing its population into obedient puppets, doing everything possible to maintain the facade they've created.

There's also the fact that Penacony used to be a prison, a setting that embodies the kind of control and forcible penance that Order represents. Xipe's attention was drawn to it because its prisoners began uniting together in the dreamscape but what happens if Penacony reverts back to a prison?

There's a lot of things that click neatly into place with one extra assumption, that the person ultimately behind this distortion is the most Order-adjacent character in the Penacony cast: Sunday.

He's the most outwardly religious person on Penacony in terms of his faith and he's straight-up covered in the Order's eye symbol, even having them on his halo, plus his major character trait is being a control freak. Circumstantially, he fits.

At this point it's been hammered in that there's a traitor in The Family - as the person in charge of the Family (only answering to the unseen Dreammaster) he's literally pulling the strings on Penacony and in the best position to manipulate its environment, so him being the literal puppetmaster behind everything would be a neat turn of phrase.

While he's outwardly devout to Xipe it could be the case that his appeals are specifically to those aspects of Xipe that THEY absorbed from Ena.

Sunday's ultimate goal is to create a truly perfect paradise in Penacony, but his idea of that could be reliant on the complete control of its population to stop all conflict, hence why he's going to such lengths to get Ena's influence.

It's been stated that a lot of the Dreamscape exists thanks to blessings from Xipe the Harmony, leading to its relative safety, but if the Harmony starts getting corrupted and weakened, then that would weaken those effects and that could be why the deeper dreamscape is starting to flood into Penacony. (This would be an unintentional side-effect of trying to bring about Order, or at least one Sunday thinks the influence of the Order could resolve in its own way.)

Sunday's been putting more resources into finding the serial killer than he is into the Charmony Festival, upsetting other Family members. If he's the one behind everything, he should already have a plan in mind for the Charmony Festival and so it's not a concern to him but the serial murders act as a chaotic element upsetting his attempted Order so stopping them and restoring Order is his higher priority.

On the subject of the serial murders: one detail we got in v2.1 is that the victims seem to be entirely random with no correlations or similarities between them. It could be that we just don't know the underlying reason but what if it is random? Intentionally random because doing it like that means there's no order to them. Something chaotic to disrupt the mastermind's plans to re-align Penacony into the Order. If they're Enigmata-themed like Gallagher, the random killings serve the double-purpose of obfuscating their true intent by making people try to find reason where there isn't any.

(I want to emphasize here that Sunday wasn't behind Robin's murder. This idea only works if he and the killer are on opposing sides, plus when he confronts Gallagher about her death I believe he's genuinely upset about it. Her investigation into the Harmony on Penacony is probably why she was targeted but I still believe Sunday would've tried other ways of getting her onto his side if she found out.)

Now, Robin did presume he was innocent, but we can excuse that on the basis that it's unlikely she would assume her own brother had ulterior motives, and his "death" at the end of v2.1 could simply be a narrative red herring to make us think he's only a victim in all this.

The last point I want to make here: the main event of the Charmony Festival is supposed to be Xipe's incarnation descending (in this case Dominicus, who was referenced in v2.1). If someone is actively trying to tilt Penacony away from Harmony and towards Order, then by the time the Charmony Festival actually arrives it might be not be Xipe's incarnation we see descend, but instead an incarnation of Ena. Hell, we might have actually seen that exact situation happening in one of The Great Septimus' attacks:

#EZ: HSR #HSR #Honkai Star Rail #HSR Ena #HSR Sunday #HSR Specposting #fun fact: did you know septimus' third phase renames itself to “Embryo of Philosophy”? #just translate the name on it in the livestream #smth smth trying to rebirth Ena

[razberrypuck]

rotating henry emily in my mind

#clarifying now that this is abt the games #the fandom at large is missing out on henrys character i think and its such a shame #bc he + his dynamic with william are sososo interesting #like this isnt abt anyone specific but it seems like most people portray him as just another parent that lost a kid (but Plot Relevant) #but the thing is. he was completely complicit in the missing childrens incident. he wasnt actively helping william or anything #but he KNEW it was him From The Beginning. he KNEW william was a threat. but the only time he ever said anything was To William Directly. #we dont talk enough abt the candy cadet story about the boy and the snake. or the “bear of vengeance” cutscenes. #that is will and henry. that is Very Directly What Happened in 1985. #in a lot of theories (coughgametheorycough) its stated that henry kicked william out. except william left on his own. #henry was upset with him yes he tried to confront him yes but he could NEVER kick him out. #the boy could not bear to get rid of the snake #and all of that is. so much more compelling than henry being demoted to the sidelines. #rrghfgrgrrh anyway. ask me about. fnaf. #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #henry emily

[mieczyhale]

i typed these tags on somebody’s post, due to it and then a ficlet someone had added on, but i decided it would be rude to reblog with my tags. BUT i still wanna share my stance on this Totally Important Topic so thank u, copy / paste

#i'm ngl #if you're playing in a campaign and your dm s/o is not the dm you're playing with - and your s/o has an ongoing campaign that they are not #only willing to add you to but wants to add you to but 1. you refuse 2. you wont say why - that's pretty shitty #especially if your dm s/o is someone who has been playing as long as eddie and is as passionate about it #i mean i guess at the very least he should've been honest. that part alone is its own kind of shit #but he should be in eddie's campaign #or both #you can be in more than one campaign at a time believe it or not #josh used to do that #it's not uncommon if you have more than one friend that's a dm #idk man #this kind of plot in st fics just bothers the shit out of me #the only real funny thing here is the ending but otherwise im just like 'mmm. gross.'

#this is about erica being steve's dm #and ynow what?? #only semi-related side bitch: #fics where steve does play in eddie's campaign and somehow ruins it - either one night or the whole thing - and then is smug about it #like those arent a lot of work to put together. like his boyfriend didnt put his whole heart soul and dick into it only for him to guess #something or spoil something or just be more obnoxious than any of the other teens combined. and the ones where eddie gets #genuinely upset about (any of the above) and the author doesnt allow him to be. like he immediately forgives steve or steve uses #sex as a way to stop eddie from being mad about it. like a thing i see in fics and absolutely hate is not letting eddie have feelings #especially negative ones when it comes to other people. unless its like.. annoyance. or if he IS allowed to feel something if he tries #to express it within a paragraph or two they have him all chill now or understanding or admitting that the other people was right in however #they upset him. now its not like he's the only character this happens to be jesus fucking christ #i may or may not have been holding onto a lot of negative feelings about fanfics for the last... while #doesnt help that im in an Easily Annoyed time myself #and ynow what else?? i've seen a lot of bitchass reactors lately - especially for that show that's also a book. book fans for that bitch are #some of the most obnoxious people on the goddamn planet i want to hammer their kneecaps and bust through the drywall in their houses #maison speaks

[cow-smells]

Perv! Sanji hc's

Word count: 710

Warnings: sanji being a major creep, dubcon, drunk reader, im not great at warnings so just know this has dark themes and if that's not your jive, its best to skip this one

A/n: honestly and seriously, im embarrassed to have written this. the character of sanji and actor taz live rent free in my head. it is an issue. i will be seeking council

He doesn’t become obsessed with you immediately after you join the crew. He’s after you the same way he is after any other woman, but the more he gets to know you, the less interested he is in other women until eventually, you’re the only one he sees.

And when I say obsessed, I mean the man is OBSESSED.

You could do no wrong in Sanji’s eyes. Every little thing you’d do, he’d fawn over and praise you for

It certainly didn’t hurt that you were receptive to his wandering hands when he would praise you

He took it upon himself to teach you to cook. Whenever you’d manage to improve your skills or make something tasty, Sanji would pick you up in an excited hug, he was so happy you were learning from him

And when he’d put you down from said hug, his hands always somehow found themselves on your bottom, squeezing, pushing you against him

The kitchen was his favourite place to be with you

There was a lot less space to move around than there was in the kitchen at the baratie, but Sanji didn’t mind; it just gave him a reason to have his hands on your waist anytime he needed to move you around – he loved how easy it was for him to control you like that

And whenever he needed something from a shelf above the counter where you stood, it was an excuse to cage you in, grinding his groin over your bum

Sometimes he’d use the fact he knew you were busy in the kitchen or someplace else on ship to allow himself in to your room

He’d smell your sheets, imagining waking up in them with you

Ruining them with you

He’d never leave your room without a souvenir

His favourite? Your used panties

He’d settle for a washed pair if you didn’t have any used ones but he just loves them used

It’s the closest to your cunt he could get right now

Sanji would spend those nights jerking off with your panties in hand, cumming in to them, thinking about you wearing them after

He once heard you whisper to Nami that you kept losing your underwear. Nami threw a glance at Sanji’s direction, but didn’t voice her suspicions

So Sanji learned to wash them and put them back, and it was actually nicer than keeping them. He liked thinking that you indirectly had his cum on your cunt

Any time Sanji would see you having any type of positive interaction with Zoro, the jealousy would send him up the wall

His frustrations would manifest themselves in extra-intense fighting with Zoro and being a lot less subtle with his perving on you

After he’d have a fight with zoro, he’d go to you for comfort

He liked to hug you from behind, acting upset and in need of your care, but really he just liked how you’d let his hands wander to your breasts

If he felt really bold, he’d let his hands snake under your shirt or your skirt

If you’d try to push him away he’d play up how distressed he was about whatever happened, he knew you have a soft spot for him, that’s why he loves you

He knew what your favourite dessert is and he loves making it for you. He may or may not have cum in the frosting.

He makes you cocktails all the time. He tries to get you inebriated because then you’re much more receptive of him sneaking his way in to your bed.

He knew you wanted him when you were sober, too, you were just shy and needed to be pushed in the right direction

He loves it when you’re drunk – he can kiss you all over, touch you all over, mark you up as his (which was partly for himself, and partly so zoro would finally take the hint)

And being drunk made you so cuddly. Sure, he was hot for you, but he really did love you and just loved having you wrapped around him

#sanji x reader #opla!sanji x reader #opla!sanji smut #opla!sanji fanfic #sanji smut #sanji fanfic #one piece sanji fanfic #one piece sanji smut #vinsmoke sanji smut #vinsmoke sanji fanfic #vinsmoke sanji x reader

[lucrativesoul]

Welcome Home

summary: you finally graduated college and are home free for the summer, planning to spend as much time as possible with your best friend. what you weren't planning for, however, was the incredible sight of her older brother, Leon, who had drastically changed after all those years. you had never thought you would fall for your best friend's brother.

pairing: leon kennedy (re2) x fem! reader

word count: 9.3k

warnings: smut, bathroom sex, public sex, fingering, dom(ish) leon

a/n: guys, thank you endlessly for 300+ followers, 250+ reblogs and all those likes! i'd like you all to take a moment to read this, apologies... i absolutely love writing. I've been writing for ten years! crazy. i do it for fun, and because i want to put out the content that i want to consume and i want to be that outlet for people who don't write but want to consume, that is just as fair! a while ago, while writing this, my laptop gave me a scare. i'm realizing now that its a 5 year old macbook, which, in apple timeline, means it might be on the way out at the blink of an eye. if you are feeling generous at all, i have created a ko-fi. it is absolutely not necessary, because i'm not doing this blog for money, but if you really love my work and want other ways to support me, it's there. i will never be upset at no donations, but i made it in hopes that i'm on this blog for a long time. so sorry for the rambling, i really hope you guys enjoy this one, and i will be back soon for a fifth fic. love u!

No matter how many young adult fiction books you read, how many love story tropes you think you have seen, there was just one that seemed so unreasonable, it was almost laughable. Because, after all, you spent way too much time with this person to ever even see him as attractive, it had never even crossed your mind. Come on, your best friend’s brother? The boy who was so ungracious, messy, impolite, and had a crude, childish sense of humor? It was just unrealistic.

Until… It was realistic.

For all your life, you looked at Leon Kennedy as the young, bumbling boy who tripped over his own two feet at any given opportunity, ready to make jokes at inappropriate times and constantly worked overtime to barge in when you and your best friend were hanging out. He was only two years older than you, but his personality read the same age, if not, younger. Boys will be boys…

You always knew that college would change a person, and you can’t deny that about yourself, but it was so hard to look at the people you were closest to and imagine that they, too, changed with college. Your best friend was still the same person you knew since middle school, and all those years that you knew Leon, he had never changed, until he left for college himself. You were confident in knowing that when he came back, he would be the same exact person, just… older.

You could not have been more wrong.

“These days could not go by any faster.” Your best friend whined to you over the phone, a daily routine between the two of you. “I need you home ASAP, Leon is driving me crazy. He’s being so loud.”

Yep, that sounded pretty in character for him. “I know, just five more days, and I’m home free, forever. I wish commencement wasn’t even happening at this rate, I’m wasting away here.”

You were finishing up your last days as a college senior at a school that was a thousand miles away from home. The scholarship opportunity was incredible, and you could not say no to this offer. Your best friend chose to stay local, which you inwardly criticized, but would never say to her. You knew her parents could have afforded to send her here, who needs that big of a house for a family of four anyway?!

Commencement was set to happen on Thursday, and it was currently Sunday. Your own parents had flown in to watch you walk the stage, and while you knew your best friend would have dropped everything to come as well, her school chose to hold theirs on the same exact day. Figures.

“I miss you guys. The summers I came home just weren't enough. I have to say, I’m so glad this internship bullshit is over. It feels like I haven’t ever even lived with you.”

You heard her groan on the other line. “I know! It’s so stupid. Why would a program even make it so you could only intern in the summer? Don't they know you are only in your twenties once?!”

You laughed at her remark, gazing off as you continued the conversation. Classes were over and exams were concluded, at least you had a healthy pile of books to go through to pass the time. You decided to worry about the logistics of taking them home at a later date.

There’s something so innocent about getting lost in the world of young adult romance. Some would say it makes their own lives dreary, coming to the conclusion that they could never live out these fantasies in the real world, but to you, it felt real anyways. It only made you happier. It puts some optimism in your life.

The comfy plane read you chose was about a high school girl, absolutely smitten over the five-years-older brother of her best friend. This type of thing, you thought, just seemed too… fairytale, to be real. In no world where you knew someone as a child could you grow up and think they were an object of fantasy. You tried picturing you and Leon in this situation. Never!

Admittedly, you haven’t seen Leon in like 4 years. The last time you saw him, it was right before you left for college, and your major requires summer internships which leave a very small window for home visits. You never crossed paths during those times. From what your friend tells you, he’s rarely home now, he must have migrated to a new group of friends in college and found other passions. Good for him, you thought, you wish you could say the same, but you needed the income from whatever job you landed from your internship.

He was never really a tiny boy in high school, he was of a pretty average build and rivaled some of the football players, but he was not an athletic kid. You can’t imagine him changing that much more, your best friend never talked about him like that, obviously, so, you only had to imagine after the last time you saw him.

From your own personal standpoint, it was just impossible to believe in this best friend’s brother trope. You shut the book and closed your eyes, willing the plane to start moving faster.

As soon as your plane touched down, you whipped your phone out to send a text: As soon as all this shit is put away, I’m coming straight over.

Predictably, less than three minutes later: YES!! All nighter, we’re 14 again. I have drinks in the fridge.

Willing yourself through all the pleasantries of coming home, promising other relatives you would be by in a few days when you are settled, you merely threw your suitcase down into your room before dashing out to your car, knowing the route to your best friend’s house even with your eyes closed. 

A tight, running start hug was the intro you both needed as a fresh start to the summer.

“Please tell me you are home for good now, they aren't making you do any more summer internships?”

You laughed as you followed her into the house. It felt like it’s been forever since you’ve been in this large house’s lived-in walls. “No, thank god. I’m officially done. Except for job hunting, but I’m putting that off for as long as I can get away with it.”

“Agreed.”

As you followed her up the steps to her room, snacks and drinks spilling over your arms, a loud cacophony rang out through the house, coming from the garage. “What the hell is that?” You stopped short, listening to it through the closed door.

“Wow, that’s how I really know it’s been forever since you’ve been here. I’m so used to it now. It’s a band that Leon is a part of. The ‘rents loaned out a car space in the garage.”

Wow, you thought, multiple things to dissect here. One: this has been going on for some time now, and you never knew. You didn’t blame your friend for not bringing it up, it wasn’t weird to not mention a new hobby of her brother’s. Two: Leon apparently knew how to play an instrument. You couldn’t recall anytime seeing him play anything, and he had never expressed an interest in singing, so that was difficult to digest. Three: their parents would give up a car space just for them to do this. They still had two car spaces left in there.

“God, it’s really been that long, huh? I’ll have to get him to spill all about this whenever he comes out.”

You heard a groan from in front of you on the stairs, and you hopped up to be beside her, headed to her bedroom. “If you can even catch him. He’s like a slippery snake. Plus, he’s so private, I don't know what happened to him. Anyway, you should come over tomorrow night and pregame with me and the girls, cause…” 

She droned on, and while you still had half of your brain paying attention to her, you couldn’t help but think about that sentence she just said. Leon’s different now? The slippery snake part didn’t make many waves, you weren’t surprised that a man in his mid twenties didn’t want to be bothered, but you didn’t expect a whole new personality to come out of him. What happened while he was gone? Or, what kind of epiphany did he have?

“Oh, my god, look at this, too. I totally forgot to send you this. I’m so mad you missed it!”

Your best friend shoved a phone in your face, and you took it, grateful for the mental topic switch. It was a group of four girls and five boys, your old friends, standing along a cliffside in bathing suits. You assumed this was the cliff jumping extravaganza you heard about over the phone a couple weeks ago. And, yes, you were also mad you missed it.

“This looked like so much fun, I haven't seen all of them in forever. Maybe we can convince everyone to do it again soon.” You looked up and smiled as your friend laughed. You looked back down to the photo. “Who is this?”

She leaned over you as you zoomed in on a man in the top right, his lower half covered by a girl bending forward for a photo, but you could tell he was incredibly toned. His hair was pushed back with water from the lake below, and a broad smile graced his features. You sensed familiarity, but you had never met this person before.

Your friend scoffs. “Girl, what? That’s Leon.”

“What?!” Has it really been that long since you’ve seen Leon in person? Now that you look at it again, yep, that’s definitely him, but why does he look so different? Thinking back, it wasn’t often you spent time with him around after he graduated high school and went to college. You saw him probably even less than you visited home during your college career, and honestly, it has probably been years since you’ve seen him at all. “He looks so… different.”

“Like I said, I don’t know what happened. Maybe he won’t recognize you either.” You handed her phone back to her. Maybe, you wondered, but you doubted it. Nothing about you changed at all. You woke up every day waiting for a magical overnight nose job and five month glute progress from the gym that you didn’t go to, but it never happened. 

The night carried on, the strange questions about Leon’s college whereabouts pushed to the back of your mind. It felt so good to be back home. The summer was only just getting started, and with the buzz running through your system, you couldn't feel anything except excitement.

“I’m out of water, fuckkk,” You moaned. Your friend giggled at you. 

“Go get some. And don’t fall.” If you were any more sober you would have glared at her for this, reminding you of the time you drunkenly took a tumble down her stairs, but right now, it was only a funny memory as you totally didn’t have an iron grip on the railing as you walked down.

The rest of the house was dark and quiet now. You remembered her saying her parents were somewhere else, so you hadn’t seen them at all tonight, and there was no longer heavy music coming from the garage. You instinctively turned your head that way, like it would magically start up again.

You stumbled over to the refrigerator, yanking it open and hearing all the bottles clink around on the door. It took you a second to collect your bearings, but after a few more seconds, water was located, and you let your eyes readjust to the darkness as you shut the door. A figure in the darkness made you yelp.

“Goddamnit, you scared me!” You placed a hand over your beating heart.

A deep laugh floated through the air at this, but you were still partially blinded. “Hey, you. I’m sorry, I thought you were my sister.”

Leon. 

You blinked hard a few times, willing the night vision to return, and a little bit of your drunkenness away. You took a hard look at the man in front of you, as good of a look as you could. You only saw a silhouette, a dark shirt, hair over his forehead, and he was taller than you, wider, stronger. This was not the Leon you remember from high school.

“Leon. It’s so nice to see you.” You tried your hardest to sound normal, but surely he already knew what the two of you were up to.

“Yeah, it’s been a while.” Slowly, your vision was returning, and his facial features were becoming prominent. Eyes. Mouth. Smile. “Congratulations on graduating, back home for good now?” 

“Yeah, yes. Thank god. Thank you.” You could now tell you were fumbling over your words, and suddenly wanting nothing more than to go back upstairs. “I’ll be here a lot more often now, so get used to me.” You walked around him back to the stairs, listening to that low chuckle that you got out of him. God, you really needed another drink.

The night and next day bore on with nothing too important left to remember about it, as long as you were in the confort of your home town again getting fucked up with nowhere to be, it was a great time as far as you were concerned. 

Though, despite continuing to drink that night and waking up a little unsteady the next morning, you couldn’t shake that brief encounter you had with Leon. You could barely see him in the dark, but you could already tell he looked different. His build was wider than the last time you saw it, he even looked a little taller. He had only ever been maybe an inch above you, but since he disappeared to college, it looked like he went up at least five. Or maybe you were shrinking. 

You were mad it was so dark and you were on the edge of tipsy and drunk to be able to clearly see him. You saw him in the photo of the outing at the cliffside, but you really didn't want to believe that was him. He was almost… sexy.

Which was crazy. You had never thought of Leon like that. Yes, there was some sort of novelty to having a crush on the only consistent older man in your life whom you weren’t related to, but whenever you came face to face with him, it was just normal. You felt nothing, he was just there. 

But this… this could change everything. Was he actually attractive now? God knows you weren’t the best at being normal around people who you thought were attractive, and that could make things infinitely awkward with being around your best friend so often. And your best friend, what would she even think? You can’t confide in her to tell her you might think her older brother is hot. This was all messed up. This is not how you wanted summer to start.

–

A few days had passed with no rift, and your momentary crisis left with no memory. You discovered, though, as much as you couldn’t wait for summer to roll around so you could be free of your duties, your days were much more boring than you had anticipated. With your past summer internships, you were always busy, and had one or two days a week to rest at most. But now, with the summer sun high in the sky and no requirements of you anymore, you were at a loss of anything to do other than sit by your best friend’s pool, baking in the heat.

“They’re having some start-of-summer party going on in one of the campus houses tonight, are we down?”

You didn’t move your head nor open your eyes as your friend spoke to you. “Yeah, sure. It will be more of a time than drinking with just us.”

She sighed. “You can say that again.”

You pushed yourself up off the chair. “I’ll be back, don’t drown.”

You listened to her sarcastic response as you went inside the house, needing a moment to cool down, and to refill your drink. As you slid the glass door shut, you were greeted with the sound of loud instruments, reminding you of the first night you came here once returning from school. Leon must have had his bandmates come over some time while the both of you were outside, as you don’t remember hearing this, or seeing anyone else. You ignored it, and stalked past the door, headed upstairs to the kitchen.

The music stopped, a door opened, and chatter became clearer without the barrier. You didn’t know who else Leon could have here, you didn’t know his friends, and you were suddenly too aware of the bikini you had on. Whatever, you soothed your anxiety, I look good.

“Oh, hey.” You turned around at the strange voice, not recognizing the person standing at the stairway, headed towards the kitchen. “Now it’s a party.”

“Dude, gross.” A more familiar voice followed quickly behind the quip, and Leon’s head became visible as he climbed the stairs. “Sorry.” He spoke now to you, visibly doing his best to keep eye contact with you. Now you could really feel your half-nakedness. 

“Doesn’t sound like you guys are making much progress out there.” You joked, turning your head back to where you were filling your water bottle. You heard Leon’s friend laugh, making a remark along the lines of blaming other people in the band, but you unintentionally tuned him out.

“We’re trying.” Leon was closer to you now, and when you turned, his friend had disappeared, probably into the bathroom. Leon was grabbing drinks from the fridge, and the two of you were separated by the kitchen island, sunlight illuminating both of you.

His hair was a shade darker than you remembered it being, still blonde, but almost brown. It came down to touch his ears, and the pieces of bangs on his forehead were clumped together with sweat. He had on a gray tank, the ones with the arm holes that go down to your ribcage. His arms, god, those arms–

“Doing anything fun out there?” He walked around the island, even closer to you now, getting cups from the cabinets. 

You shook your head. “Just trying to become a leather couch while I’m still young.” You fixed the top of your water bottle back on, but didn’t move from your spot, taking the chance to talk to Leon.

“That’s the spirit.” He placed the cups down on the counter and leaned on it, clearly standing around to talk to you, too. You noticed a bandage wrapped around his right hand as he crossed his arms.

“What happened there? Start scrapping with the wrong people?” 

He lifted it and looked at it, like he just realized it was there. He laughed softly. “This might sound gross, but it's just a callus that burst open the other day. Right when I was used to holding drumsticks all the time.”

You sighed a gentle laugh. “Doesn’t that hurt, still using it?”

He shook his head. “Nah, I just didn’t want to start touching shit and get it all gross again.” He set his hand back down. You took the silence to ask another question. 

“When did the drums start? That was never a thing as far as I can remember.” He looked down, slowly nodding his head, as if trying to piece together memories of what his life was like the last time he saw you.

He sighed. “I kind of picked it up during college. I thought it was a lot of fun. I knew a lot of guys at the time who were in a bunch of different bands, so they had access to all these instruments, and I tried a bunch, but the only one that stuck was drums. I guess it’s easy and I like it only because I still can’t read sheet music for the life of me.”

You smiled softly at his explanation. Looking at him in the daylight, now, you can see the old him in his features. He grew into his face, his cheekbones slightly more pronounced, and his dimpled chin fitting perfectly into his jawline. His eyes were soft, yet tired. Still the bright blue you remember them being.

“Are you any good?”

He smiled fully at this, looking back up to you. “Of course. I know it sounds like ass right now, but we’re trying out some new stuff. But, and maybe I’m just biased, I think we have some really solid potential.”

You shrugged, a grin still present on your face. “I’ll have to see it to believe it.”

Leon stood up now, grabbing the cups and the still tied together 6-pack. “I agree. We’re doing a local show next Wednesday night. I’m always inviting my sister, but she doesn’t like going alone, and the rest of your friends don’t like that bar.” You smiled at this. Sounds typical of your friends. “Maybe she will come if you will. And, uh, if you’re still with that guy, he can come, too.”

Your brow furrowed at this. “Guy?”

Leon shrugged. “Oh, well, she told me in passing that you were with some guy last summer. From around here.”

You paused to think about this, nearly forgetting your whole past trying to rake your brain for a memory. It then hit you. “Oh, shit, yeah, that was definitely just a summer thing. He was…” A douche, conceited, horrible at sex. “Not the best. I’m not seeing anybody. And definitely not while school was in. I was way too busy for that.” 

He nodded, standing up a little straighter. “Well, that’s good. And fuck that guy.” You giggled at his support. “I think you should come. I’d be happy to see you there.”

And, oddly, for the first time ever speaking with Leon, your stomach did a flip that only ever happened when you were talking to someone whom you liked. It caught you off guard, and your words caught on your throat.

You nodded quickly, using the opportunity to take a deep breath in. “Yeah, I’ll be there. I’ve got the time to, now.”

“Cool. I won’t disappoint, I promise.” With that, Leon bounded back across the room and down the stairs, opening and shutting the door to the garage. You sighed deeply. You didn’t like the feeling that was creeping up inside of you.

Putting your newfound conundrum aside for the night, you resolved to let loose and get back to enjoying the summer the way you had intended to. You were almost tempted to stick around and listen once his band got started with the music again as you were on your way outside, but decided against it, as your friend would surely be asking what took so long. 

Part of you wished Leon had gone to this little party tonight, considering he knew all of your mutual friends, but he was never the party type before this, and it seemed that college did not change that much either. It would make sense if he had a gig coming up, they must be preparing, but you didn’t picture him to be much of a perfectionist. Maybe that changed as well.

–

“Why are we going to this again?” Your friend asked as she followed you out of her house, locking the door behind her. She seemed awfully quick to keep up with you for complaining about doing something she doesn't want to.

“I don’t know, it gives us something to do. Leon asked me to come. Now you’re coming with me.”

“What? Why did Leon ask you to come? He doesn't ask me.” The two of you slid into her sleek black coupe. 

You shrugged as you fastened the belt. “I saw him the other day when I was here, I came in while we were out by the pool. We were just talking. And he said he does invite you, by the way, but you never go.”

She was the one to shrug this time. “Maybe he does. You think there will be hot men here?”

“We’re both hoping.” You half-assed the response, but you already knew the answer was yes. You could never tell her you think Leon is attractive now. You had been mulling it over the past few days, ever since you spoke to him, and you had no choice but to confirm it. He really, really grew into his body. You could even push the curiosity aside to wonder what it was about college that changed him like that, you were just thankful it happened.

Your local bar looked just as you remembered, dark and looming from the outside, people filing in and out simultaneously. It was much busier than you had ever seen it, but the show was most likely the reason for the sudden influx in customers.

The crowd was a thick mass, and you had trouble even spotting the stage when you walked in, but once you and your friend had found a nice little corner, vacant of bodies, and conveniently found a third mutual friend to stand by, the room seemed a little less stuffy.

You absentmindedly scanned the crowd, people hoarding in front of the stage, waiting to be the first to break open the mosh pit, presumably, people in the back drinking idly and chatting, almost like they don't even know a show is happening this night. You found yourself looking for Leon. He was in the building somewhere. You wished you could have told him you were there, but what good would that have done? He wouldn’t have come out to say hello, there were preparations to be had back there.

God, shut up already, you willed at yourself, annoyed at the mere fact that you couldn’t stop thinking of Leon.

Admittedly, you thought of that first scene more often than not recently. The muscle shirt, ribcage exposed, thick arms, sweet smile and bouncy cheeks with a strong jawline, the vision came to you during the day, at breakfast, while you were scrolling your phone, late at night, when the moon was your only company. 

You wondered what he would look like tonight. You were so anxious for him to step out on stage. Would he see you?

Your friend stumbled sideways into you, knocking you out of your monetary stupor. People were now starting to crowd in, hence the bump, and you were assuming the start of the set was about to happen.

On cue, the lights went darker, the roar of the crowd exploded, and people rushed on stage and took their places. Your eyes were instantly drawn to Leon, who, from what you could only see from the backlight so far, had on another muscle shirt. It made your legs feel like jelly.

The lights went on, and after a brief introduction from the front man who was holding a guitar, they started. Leon was right, they were pretty good when they weren’t rehearsing new material. You knew this wasn’t the type of music your best friend was into, but to your surprise, she was bopping away with your other mutual friend, both of them holding drinks. That’s probably why.

Turning back, you could see Leon clearly under the lights now, which were strobing in and out, flashing different colors and patterns. His hair was pushed back this time, exposing his forehead, and looking brand new. You liked the way it looked on him, it made him almost look older. Everytime a strong beam of light would shine down on him, you could see the glistening sweat on his skin, his face. He was so focused on hitting the beats, and succeeded everytime, and you were so enticed by it.

This was a side of Leon you never thought you would see. It was so clear, standing in the crowd watching, how much he belonged up there. He looked so confident, every move was made with ease, no hesitation, and you could feel yourself melting.

It was like a headrush, you didn’t think you would enjoy it this much, but clearly, every moment took your breath away. Yes, you were looking at Leon the whole time, but who could really tell?

Soon enough, the show ended, and the crowd was applauding for what felt like ten minutes as the individual members left the stage, thanked everyone, hopped down to talk to others. You were interrupted with your people-watching when your friend grabbed you by the elbow to let you know she was headed back to the bar for more drinks, and you absentmindedly nodded while you turned back.

You caught the back of Leon, dipping behind the stage into the back of the bar. The tips of your fingers tingled with… something, some emotion you couldn’t read… and you let your body take over as you weaved through the crowd, headed to the back.

People bumped you and yelled in your ears as you squeezed in between them, paying them no mind, on a mission of your own.

After a few seconds, you reached a hallway, a few people lingering by the bathrooms, and you spotted someone, you recognized him as the frontman, dipping behind another doorway, chattering loudly to people behind the wall. Times like this, you wished you had decided to down some liquid courage.

You stalked slowly over to the doorway, seeing flashes of shadow as people walked by, unsure if you should hang out or go in. Most likely, you weren’t welcome, it was probably for performers only, but you couldn’t help it, you continued inching closer, drawn in by an unseen force.

As you took another step inward, a figure rushed out and crashed right into you. 

“Oh shit, I’m sorry, bathrooms are that way if you’re looking for them, this is restricted access.” You looked up at the man you walked into, you didn’t know who it was. 

“Oh, um…” You backed up a step, and though he was making moves to walk around you, he was waiting for a response. “I was actually waiting for Leon… the drummer.” You added in the title, just in case this was a man who worked at the bar with no affiliation to the band. But, to your relief, he nodded.

“I’ll get him, just chill over there, ‘kay?”

You dumbly nodded and backed up again. The hallway was lit with fluorescents, the bright white kind, but it was still dark, with the walls and floors looking slick with condensation. You opted not to lean up against them.

“Hey, you’re still here?” A voice snapped your head back over to your left, and you saw Leon walking towards you. “You didn’t leave with the rest of them?” He must have seen your other friend there as well.

You shook your head. “They’re still here, I think. Just getting drinks.” He nodded. “I told you I would come.” You held your arms out in a here I am gesture. He laughed.

“I’m so glad. I didn’t see you while I was up there, but… I do tend to just tune everything else out when I play.”

“You did great. You were really good.” You spoke, almost breathless for no apparent reason. 

He smiled softly, his eyes holding contact with yours. “Thank you.” His hair was now starting to fall back into place on his forehead, his face was still red with exerted energy. Your eyes wandered, without your permission, his arms were shining under the hallway lights, still sweaty. You looked away, but he saw. “You look great tonight.” His voice was low, and a twist went straight down your abdomen.

You smiled back. You briefly looked down at your outfit, simply a short skirt and loose band tee. “Thank you. It’s nothing.” 

“I like it.” He looked back into your eyes, and you found yourself lost for words. He broke eye contact for a second, turned around and looked into the back room where, presumably, the rest of his bandmates were. He turned back to you. “You know,” He looked down, and took a step forward towards you, slowly, as if to test the waters. You stayed put. “It’s been so long since I saw you last. I almost didn’t recognize you the first night you were at the house.” You grinned at the memory. You were also equally stunned to not know Leon had changed so much. “Not that you weren’t before but… You’re beautiful, now.” 

Your stomach sank at his words, and with his new proximity to you, it caused you to have to look up at him. You felt a strong shiver course up your body.

“I really… I didn’t recognize you. You look so different, too.” You whispered, knowing he was close enough to hear you. “I didn’t even think it was you at first.”

He simply stared at you for a few more moments, taking in your words, and the way you looked in front of him right now. You were suddenly self conscious, but his gaze seemed to tell you that he liked whatever he saw.

“I… don’t want to back you into any corners here…” He looked down, still not meeting your eyes. “But you’re giving me a… vibe. And I’d rather fuck around and find out than never know if I don’t try.”

You stood up straighter, coming closer to meet his face, his eyes finally touching back onto yours. “What kind of vibe?” You had to say something, anything, because you could barely comprehend this situation right now. Leon was catching a vibe from you? Could he tell that you were looking at his body? Could he tell that you thought he became very sexy?

He tilted his head a little further, and his brow bone cast a shadow over his eyes, darkening them. Another shiver down your body. He shrugged. “I think I just… think you are incredibly attractive, now.” His eyes darted down your body for a quick second before resuming their previous place. “And I want to know if you want to just try it out. Just once.”

You took a quick, silent breath in. He must have been picking up your messages, even though you said nothing and only spoke to him once. Was that one conversation that powerful? Was it the hint you dropped about not being with that guy anymore? Was this something he just knew he was going to attempt as soon as he saw you? You didn’t know, and you really didn’t have the time to think it over.

You reached up and placed a hand on his chest, slowly taking the shirt on his body in your hands, pulling him closer, but with no force. His eyes darted up behind you, and he turned his head quickly one more time. He saved you the trouble, and dipped his head down and kissed you hard.

You sighed instantly, fully gripping his shirt and dragging him in closer to you, pushing your body against his as you could feel him move towards you at the same time. You were exploding, you didn’t know what to do with the rest of your body, and could only bring your other hand up to his bicep, where he then palmed your waist. He pulled back after a few seconds.

“Follow me,” His face was flushed, and when he turned around, you were very quick to follow. He maneuvered the two of you through the back room, where people still were congregating, but none of them paid much attention to the two of you. You passed by his other bandmates, and when he turned the corner, he pushed open a door, and ushered you inside. It was a bathroom. “This is the best I can do right now.”

Instead of replying, you simply grabbed his face in both hands and pulled him in. The room was dark, you could tell from under your eyelids as you felt the heat of his face on yours again, and you were at least happy for that, you weren’t too sure you wanted to see the state of the bar’s bathroom at this moment.

His hands found solace again on your waist, thumbs rubbing circles, and fingers teasing along the waistband of your skirt. Leon pressed himself further into you, sandwiching you in between him and the wall, and the stark difference in temperature between the two caused another series of shivers to run up your body.

Leon’s mouth left your lips, now wet and slick with his saliva and yours, and traced them down the length of your jaw, along your neck, nipping at the tender skin, making you sigh and arch your back, increasing the contact of your bodies. Your hands dragged along his sturdy shoulders, reaching around and locking your arms behind his neck, holding him in as he worked your neck, and as his hands started to move. You kept breathily gasping as he bit underneath your jawline, fingertips caressing your jutting hip bone, dipping lower, causing ripples to erupt in your core.

He had positioned his hands now to take purchase on the hem of your skirt, full intentions of pulling it up, when he released his lips from your neck and his face was back in front of yours. 

“Sorry that this is all we have.” His voice was low, and you almost didn't hear it over the static of the bar music softly coming in through the speakers. “We can wait if you want.”

His hand was still positioned on your clothing, and you didn’t let go of him even a little bit. You could only look up, your head already touching the wall behind you. “Where’s the thrill in that?”

Under his shadow, you saw his lips quirk up slightly, he breathed a laugh, and dove back in to kiss you. You threaded your fingers through his hair, slightly tugging, hearing him groan at the sensation. The hand that was ready to hike your skirt up did just that, and his other was gripping your thigh, lifting it higher so he could slide himself right in between. 

He made himself comfortable pressed against you, and you could feel his erection growing through his jeans, giving himself some sort of friction, and you pushed back, earning another groan through your still connected lips. You dropped one of your hands from his hair and traced down his bicep, and into the large hole of his shirt, relishing in every ridge that his ribcage and abdomen had to offer. His skin was so smooth, you knew you would never be able to get enough.

He backed away from the kiss briefly for another moment. “If I never saw you that day you came inside, half naked… in my house looking like that…” He continued to grind himself into you as he spoke, earning noises from the both of you. “Who knows how long I would have to wait?” The hand on your thigh crept upward, leaving a wake of shivers in its path. His palm was flush to your bare skin, reaching the joint of your thigh and hip, and he squeezed the flesh of your hip, digging his thumb into the sweet spot, making you squirm. You clawed at his back, you didn’t even care if it hurt him. You were sure it didn’t.

Leon hovered his mouth over yours, not connecting, but enticing you, and you could only look up at him through a foggy gaze. His hair had now fallen back over his forehead, streaked with sweat, but you hardly minded the way it was touching yours, you wanted him closer. It was impossible how, through the shadow he cast from the light behind him, you could see his blue eyes so clearly, pupils blown, the way he was looking at you made you want to drop dead.

You couldn’t wait any longer, you didn’t even have words to say back to him, you just needed to show him what you thought, how you felt, you just needed him. Your hands came around the front of his body again, not losing contact the entire way, and grasped desperately at his belt, needing to pull out his girth, needing to have his cock in your hands, mouth, in you.

You gasped, trying to form words, but his presence was so dominating, you almost couldn’t. “Leon…” You breathed, and your fingers couldn’t work the clasp fast enough. “Let me…” Finally, it slid open, you pulled the two ends of the belt apart, and made quick work to free his dick from its constraints. Your knees buckled, and you started sliding down the wall.

As you were about to hit the ground, his hands hoisted you back up from under your arms, and you could have whined, the frustration growing, the time only growing in between you getting to have him in your mouth.

“No, I’m sorry,” He grunted as he pulled you up. He put both hands under your thighs, and you gasped as he suddenly picked you up, you wrapped your arms around his neck for balance. “You’re not getting on this floor for me, we’ll save that for another time.”

Another time. Fuck, just those words alone had you melting in his grasp, his strong hands and arms holding you up, walking you around the corner of the bathroom and shutting the two of you in a stall.

“But, you already started this for me, so,” He had you pressed in between himself and the wall once again, one of his arms was still holding you up in the air, legs wrapped around his torso. He tried to separate himself as much as he could to pull his cock out, you reached down in between the two of you to help him, pulling the waistband forward so he could pull them down.

Your breath caught as he pulled it out, a solid, thick length, rock hard, and you were suddenly so mad he wouldn’t let you suck it, because, fuck you would have sucked the life out of him at just the sight of his dick. 

Once he was free, he stroked himself a couple of times, causing himself to moan, and shit, you almost did, too, and he went back to the hem of your skirt, pushing it up over your hips, exposing your small underwear. He eyed them for a moment, humming in acceptance, before sliding them sideways and exposing your aching pussy to the cool air. You, in contrast, were overheating in this bathroom, but now that you were free, it felt so nice, and it felt even better when he ran his fingers along the length, in between your folds, pressing into your clit to watch you squirm again under him.

You sighed loudly, moans slipping out with your breathing as his contact with your heat felt like heaven, your head leaned back and hit the wall, but you didn’t care, you couldn’t feel it, you felt nothing but Leon’s fingers right now.

“Fuck, you’re so wet already,” He was breathing heavily, and you choked out a whimper when he slid one of his fingers in, and it wasn’t stopped with any friction. You also couldn’t believe how wet you were, but then again, you would jump hurdles to be able to suck his dick right here and now, so it must have gotten you worked up. “You feel so good around me.” He mumbled, practically groaned out, sliding in a second finger with ease, the slick sounds becoming louder as he worked you open, and while it felt so good, you just needed him to fuck you already.

“Leon…” You kept whining, unable to say anything else, mind fading, only wrapped around the feeling of him pleasuring you, fingering you, loosening you up for him. “Please, Leon…” You moved your hips, trying to signal to him to pull his fingers out, but he resisted, his hand following the movements of your hips, only going deeper, causing you to squeal when he went as far in as he could.

“Stay still, take it…” Now he pushed himself back against you, finding your lips again and kissing passionately, trapping his fingers inside you, and when you felt them move inside of you, you couldn’t help but squirm against him. His tongue caressed your lips, the inside of your mouth, and your tongue as he was so entwined in kissing you and in fingering you to the edge, his other hand gripping relentlessly at your ass.

After what felt like forever, he backed away, strings of saliva connecting your mouths, his eyes darker than ever, and you, breathing heavily, working to regain composure. He slid his fingers out, a small hiss escaping your lips with the emptiness.

“Fuck,” He sighed, and he looked back down in between you two. He adjusted his grip on your thigh and ass as he used his now free hand to line the tip of his cock up with your entrance, you felt a throb hit the core of your pussy at the mere sight, and you instinctively tightened when he teasingly dragged the tip along your lips, not giving you what he knew you wanted.

You sighed frustratingly, and couldn’t help it but to reach down and wrap your own hand around his dick. The sudden contact made him gasp, but he caught your hand and prevented you from piloting the moment.

“Just relax…” You didn’t need to look up to hear the smile painting his face, and as much as you wanted to protest, you knew he had the upper hand. This time. “You’ll get it, just be patient.” He drew a couple more lines into you, with your hand still trapped under his on his cock, which you could feel it throb every few seconds, and he finally pushed the tip into you.

You whimpered, whole body going slack, and you drew your hand back from his dick to find closure on his shoulder, steadying yourself as he slowly pushed himself all the way in. He had to stop every other second to collect himself as well, jaw tightened, hands gripping bruises into your hips and legs, a long, deep sigh once he was bottomed out.

He brought himself closer to you, relishing in the feeling of you being wrapped around him, unmoving, and he had his face in the crook of your neck, as if to ground himself from the feeling. Your body was shaking slightly, and you could barely breathe with his weight on top of you, but it all felt so good. His skin was slick, sweat coating anywhere that wasn’t exposed to the air, and your hands drawing deep scratches into his shoulder blades.

“Fuck, fuck…” You felt Leon’s lips moving against your throat, and his breath was hot, you could tell he was desperate to move inside of you, but he was still. “You’re so tight, god…” His lips moved up to place gentle kisses along your jawline, and your head rolled to the side to give him more access. He stayed there for a second, teeth grazing your skin, and after a while you were ready for him to start moving.

You picked your head up and turned sideways, forcing him to look directly at you, wasting no time in reconnecting your lips, and, while continuing to kiss you, he slowly slid out, and pushed himself back in.

The both of you were glued to each other as he continued to thrust in and out, your hands gripping impossibly hard on his shoulders, thighs shaking, breaths choppy. His eyes never left your face, he was watching your expressions so closely, you had no control over whatever was happening to you, you could barely breathe, you were so focused on the feeling that Leon was delivering, you simply ceased to acknowledge the setting you both were in.

“God, Leon…” You choked out in between gasps, head hitting the wall over and over, trying to helplessly grind your hips into his when he thrust up, but you had no energy to move against him. He took the initiative, and every time he would plunge into you, he would stay there for a beat longer, and make sure your previously ignored clit was getting the friction it needed, which made you whine even louder.

His breaths were so heavy, spitting out ‘Fuck’, and ‘Oh, shit’, and ‘So good’ every few seconds, letting his train of thought loose as he let himself go, and lost control of the pace.

One of his hands let go of your thigh, and it landed along your chin, forcing your head down to look into his eyes. “How does that feel, hm? So hard to move in you, so tight.” His voice was a broken mess, just breaths, essentially, but it was all you needed to spur you on. 

You simply nodded, knowing the words were nowhere close to coming out right now. Even if you tried, it would be a mess of moans and gasps. You could feel him so deep inside of you, hitting that point to split you open, your pussy was endlessly wet, enough to fuel a whole round or two, and he let you know.

On another thrust, he pushed himself in and sat there for a moment, your moans spilling out without reserve, you both tensed as the unmistakable sound of the creaking door was heard.

Leon took his right hand, free from holding you up, and laced it over your mouth, silencing any sounds of pleasure that you had left in you. 

You were both stiff, eyes wide, and he had his head swung in the direction of the noise. The footsteps approached the counter and turned the sink on. If they were to walk around the corner, they would see Leon’s legs under the door, and could have easily walked in, considering he didn’t shut it all the way, it was just stopped by his body behind it.

He slowly turned his head back to face you, you couldn’t move due to the weight of his hand, and you wanted to writhe under him so bad, feeling his cock throb still deep inside of you while you both were still. Tears were practically forming in your eyes.

He locked eyes with you, and without a sound, mouthed the words Be quiet.

He kept his hand clamped over your mouth, but he slowly adjusted your position so he could slide out of you at a snail’s pace. Your eyes widened in surprise, not expecting him to move, and you used all of your remaining energy to hold yourself together, being overcome by the pleasure while also staying conscious of the person who was still at the bathroom sink. You were glad there was still music playing outside in the bar, and the sink was still running, because if it were dead silent, they definitely would have been able to hear the wet sound of Leon pulling out, and fucking back in. 

He held eye contact with you while he continued to do this, holding you so tightly to make sure nothing made any noise,and a devilish grin broke out onto his face. He was enjoying every second of this. 

He was basically getting off on the idea of pushing you to your limit, forcing you to obey what he asked you to, even if it would benefit the both of you rather than just one. If Leon were shameless enough, he could have told them to fuck off, but instead, he held you here, silenced you, yet drove you to the fucking brink just to watch you fall apart. It made you want to cum right then and there.

After what felt like ten, twenty, thirty minutes (fifteen seconds), the sink shut off, a moment of silence, and the door creaked open again. Leon took his hand off your mouth and you both sighed deeply. While holding you still, Leon leaned back to look through the door to confirm you were alone once again.

“You were barely holding it together, I thought we were going to get caught.” He said on another thrust into you, bringing your faces closer once again. You swallowed hard, instinctively choking back moans now.

“Y-you… you were making it hard…” Gasps, again, as Leon was determined to make everything he asked of you difficult.

He brought himself closer into you, and spoke lowly. “Good,” With swift moves, his free hand was around your throat, holding your head back, and he was relentlessly bouncing you up and down on his cock.

The pressure around your throat and the pressure building in your core at his movements was all overwhelming, your hands were cutting crescents into his bicep from your nails, but he hardly took notice, he was so busy moving the both of you as well as keeping an eye on your face to watch how you were responding to his movements, he was too preoccupied.

The slick sounds coming from your pussy were evidence that the situation was much more of a stimulant than you ever expected, and the sound alone brought you so close to the edge.

“I bet you loved almost getting caught.” He groaned out, his movements stuttering, and you knew he must be close as well. “I bet it was driving you crazy, having to shut up while I gave it to you. You took it so well.” Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head, mouth open, you wouldn’t even be surprised if you were drooling at this point, Leon had all the power now.

“Leon,” You whispered, no energy for your full voice anymore. He understood.

“Take it, baby.” He thrust harder and harder, pressing you flat against the wall, the tip of his cock hitting all the deepest points. “I’m almost there, you feel so good.”

“Fuck, Leon,” If you could grasp any harder against his arms, you just did. “Fuck, I’m so close.”

“You got it, come on, cum for me.” He pressed his forehead into yours, grinding into you on the inward thrusts, making you fall apart in his arms. A few more thrusts, grinding a few more times, and a squeeze to your throat had you gasping in a silent scream around him, panting wildly letting your orgasm loose. 

He fucked you all the way through it. “Shit, that felt so good, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” You watched him as he chased his own, sweat beads dripping down his face, his hair coated in it. His hips stuttered one more time, and as he released his seed into you, he buried his face into your neck, whimpering and biting again. 

He pulled out of you, and it wasn’t missed by either of you the way his cum dripped out of you and onto the floor. You cracked a small smile when you heard him breathe a laugh.

“I’m sure that’s not the first time this bathroom has seen that.” He looked back up at you, breathing heavily, arms shaking from holding you up. You tapped his arms, hoping your legs were strong enough to stand on your own. He lowered you slowly, making sure you were stable before letting you go.

“I hope that’s what you wanted. I might have gotten ahead of myself.” He was still standing in front of you, neither of you made moves to leave the stall. You leaned against the wall for support.

“I would have stopped you a long time ago if it wasn’t, Leon.” He smiled down at you, breaths steadying out. He nodded his head.

“Coming to the house any time soon?”

You laughed out loud this time. “I’m sleeping over this weekend.” 

He smiled wider at the sound of your laugh. He leaned in and kissed you again. “Can’t wait.”

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy fanfiction #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #fanfiction #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil 4 #leon s kennedy #resident evil 2 #leon kennedy x reader smut #female reader

[impishjesters]

Im so obsessed with the nonsexual intimacy headcannon between reader and Jax. They are SO good! You're wonderful at writing Jax as well, it feels v in character!! (Even if we only have one ep. :P)

If you like, I would love to see your take on Jax with a reader who makes stuff to show affection. Clothes, art, ect. ect.

If not, that's fine! I love reading through your blog enough on its own, haha!

Jax with a gift-giving affection s/o

warning(s): none A/N: You can't tell me Jax wouldn't get irritable during craft time, patience isn't his strong suit in this situation and he'd definitely overreact if something wasn't going as planned. It's craft time baby, not nuclear codes, you can breathe baby.

Jax isn’t the biggest fan of physical affection, he can but there’s a limit to how much he’ll tolerate.

Being shown your affection by handmade gifts? Well, he’s not used to receiving stuff like this but it’s an absolute breath of fresh air to the idea of being touched all the time.

If you’re his s/o then he’s a lot nicer about the stuff you make him, even if he doesn’t know what it is or have a use for it. (you could gift this bitch a rock with googly eyes and pipe cleaners and he’d still thank you and display it in his room, but in the back of his head he’s questioning what the hell this is and why you’re giving it to him)

If you aren’t dating yet then he’ll still accept the gifts but he’s more forward in asking what something is if he’s unsure. Which could sound like a genuine question or a flat-out rude statement, really depends.

Clothing and accessories are his favorite gifts because not only does he get to look snazzy, but he gets to show them off and rub it in other people’s faces that not only does he look bitchin’ but it’s you who made it for him.

He’s not typically vain but your clothing and accessories make his pride skyrocket.

Jax has zero creative crafting skills but he’ll often toss out an idea for something matching, usually something simple like an accessory but he’ll avoid matching rings. It feels too intimate, similar to certain other matching-themed items.

Now if you manage to rope him into making something with you, IE you supplying it and just sitting there making something together but separately.

The most this boy can make is a bead bracelet, the knot is awful so you’ll have to fix it later when he’s not looking. But hey, you get a one-of-a-kind Jax bracelet that looks like a child teenager made it. (he doesn’t have the patience for anything fancier)

Aside from clothing, Jax also favours any art stuff, especially if it’s of him. Since they won’t get as seen in his room he’s taken to displaying some of them around the tent with a not-so-vague threat that if anything happened to them he’d make sure the punishment followed the crime. (no Caine, you don't get to have an opinion, the picture is staying)

His favourite works stay safely in his room though, you don’t know it but he likes to look at them when he’s missing you. ew emotions

It doesn’t compare skill-wise, but Jax does occasionally try and gift you something in return.

Gangle somehow managed to rope Jax into joining her when crafting one time, saying it would be a nice little surprise to make something for you. (she was just lonely, she feels bad using you as an excuse like that but it worked!)

Once in a blue moon he’ll join Gangle to make you something, it’s a miracle Gangle puts up with him because his frustrations get a little wild for no reason. (he’s like a grumpy toddler in need of a nap time when he gets upset over crafting, man has no patience for the glue to dry)

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital circus x reader #jax #jax x reader #tadc jax

[musings-ofthe-unamused]

Obey Me Headcanons

Topic: Fights

Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Beel, Satan, Levi, Asmo, Belphie

Warnings: Angst, Lucifer being a little BITCH

Lucifer:

Getting into a fight with him hurts

He will point out every single way you need to improve yourself

And call you an imbecile while doing it

He’s just so pissed that he’s scolding you worse than Mammon

Call him a little bitch to throw him off

Start crying to make him feel bad >:D

Stonks!

Mammon:

He’s not the type to stay mad for long

Unless you’re like,,,legit making out with someone in front of him, he’s quick to apologize

But if you two happen to be in a really heated fight, he won’t necessarily be mad

Mammon acts more of a sad puppy dog

“Do you really think that?”

He gets very dejected its kinda heartbreaking

Pls apologize rn!!!

Levi:

Tsundere type of angry

“It’s not like I cared!”

He will deflect. 

It’s one of the worst types of defense mechanisms 

If you just leave him alone for a while

Eventually he will be so consumed with playing back the fight

That he will apologize

Feel free to flick him

Satan:

I dont wanna fight Satan

I feel like he’d slap me not that I would mind

Similar fighting style to Lucifer

He’s a little more cold and doesn’t really point out your faults

He just insults you

“Are you choosing to be this childish right now? Do you really want to fight over this?”

He’s stubborn and will totally drag out a fight

It can either end in you two awkwardly apologizing

Or not talking for weeks

Asmo:

I feel like getting in a fight with him wouldn’t be an actual fight

He’d just be super condescending

“Oh? So that’s how you feel. Cute.”

Will scoff at you (it doesn’t sound like a big deal but it is)

Gaslights

“Darling, I just don’t understand why you’re upset. I did nothing wrong.”

It will end in you storming off in tears telling Asmo that he’s a self centered ass

Only then will he slightly feel bad 

(i love him it makes it sound like I don’t)

Beel:

Beel has trouble comprehending other’s feelings

He truly tries, but sometimes it’s frustrating

And when he’s frustrated, he shuts others out

“Beel, you can’t just sit there and eat. Talk to me.”

“I don’t want to.” 

It’s very aggravating when the you can’t get through to you

It’s the fact that he won’t even try to understand

Either sit down and talk it through, or have one of the brothers explain it 

Belphie:

Two things can happen

The first is he completely ignores you

Every time you say something he just yawns, nods his head 

Or he says “I’m sorry” without even meaning it

Eventually, he’ll get so tired he’ll just go to sleep

The second thing that happens is the worst

Full on screaming match

Belphie is so fucking pissed he will start throwing insults

And maybe actual physial objects (not at you though)

If you slap him out of it, he’ll start profusely apologizing

If one of the brothers (Lucifer) intervenes, he’ll storm out of the house and disappear for days before coming back to apologize

#x reader #fanfic #headcanons #obey me #obey me x reader #Lucifer #Lucifer X reader #obey me lucifer X reader #obey me headcanons #mammon #mammon X reader #obey me mammon #obey me mammon X reader #obey me leviathan #obey me leviathan X reader #leviathan #leviathan X reader #satan x reader #Satan #obey me Satan #obey me Satan X reader #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmodeus X reader #asmodeus #obey me belphegor #obey me blephegor X reader #belphegor x reader #belphie X reader #obey me beel #obey me beel X reader

[easy-there-leftovers]

I See You, Darling (4)

[Astarion x reader] A little longer than usual, I hope that’s fine for all of you :,DDD I didn't want to cram too much into the post though, so the segment at the end might be continued in full detail, or maybe not! Let's see.|Word count: 2.9k.|

Content Warnings: Mentions of cooking, handling knives, blood, allusions to sex, a few ooc characters, reader being a dumbass and wahtnot.

Part 3 here!!

Masterlist here!!

A party is being held at the camp in the heroes’ honor, which greets you with a lively crowd that you’ll hopefully meet again soon. And with a gathering this large, you’re bound to garner attention. But with a constitution as poor as yours from the night before, a round of drinks is the last thing you want. 

Alternatively: A bloodless human tries to balance respectfully participating in a drinking party, while also not drinking at all. 

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

The sun rises, the warmth of its rays gently waking you in the absence of the campfire’s flames. The soft chirping of the birds greet you a good morning as your eyes slowly open, ready to greet the day as a new opportunity arises.

Is what would have happened in a more idyllic scenario. Instead, you bolt awake with a pounding headache, worse than any hangover could possibly feel like, and quickly rush to get up. By the sheer brightness of the light that burns your newly opened corneas, it is far later than when you usually wake. And breakfast still hasn’t been made. 

“Well, good morning sleepy head.” One of your companions, Gale, says as he fixes his belongings. Readying himself for the skirmish that was about to take hold later on in the day.

“I’m very  sorry for waking up late. It won’t happen again.” You bow your head low for a moment before he waves you off.

“Oh come now, we all have our off days. Besides, I think the rest would agree with me when I say what you made for us last night was more than enough to last us ‘til morning.” His statement is punctuated by the lively sounds of the others training. Ready and well rested for whatever may come.

You look around. None have seemed to mind your temporary absence, so you endeavor to double check with everyone leaving and ensure that they had a sound strategy with the necessary materials and weapons should there be a need for failsafes. You remind them of certain notes that some of them have informed you about but failed to share with the rest of the group. 

‘While goblins typically go down faster than other opponents, they have no sense of honor nor pride which gives way for them the opportunity to use more underhanded tactics. But they also aren’t very bright, so you can convince the others to let them infiltrate the camp and eradicate them from the inside out.’

As the rest disperse, finalize their plans and check their supplies, your favorite character approaches you much like he usually does every morning. Only this time, you see that he looks very pleased. A more vibrant spark in his eyes as he opens his mouth to speak.

“Thank goodness you’ve finally woken up.” He looks at you, in the same way an old friend of yours would when they’re seconds away from telling a joke. 

The look fades soon enough though as he breathes out. You wonder if it’s because the joke isn't funny anymore, or if he never had a punchline to begin with.

“You looked a little ill last night, but you’ve certainly recovered.” Recovered isn’t the word you would use to describe your current state of feeling almost half dead, but you don’t bother correcting the details.

“And you look particularly vibrant today, Astarion.” The itch of your neck intensifies as you return a pointed look at him as he frowns.

“Oh, of course! Now, don’t be so upset. I will admit that I got a little carried away, I apologize.” He pauses. The frown remains on his face for a while before it is erased with his usual expression of confidence. 

“But let’s not fall out over this.” He moves to stand closer to you, taking your hand to his as he nears it to his lips as he continues. 

“We need each other.” 

And whether its done purposefully or not, you see his fangs peek out from his mouth and a shiver courses through your body.

You slip your hand out of his own in a panic and interject. 

“I know that much already, and I trust you not to let what happened last night happen again. I also apologize for not noticing sooner and dealing with the situation better.” You hold your head down a bit to apologize but quickly meet his gaze gain. “But I do need to know what we’ll have to feed you from now on.”

The look of confusion, and perhaps even shock that was once swimming in his eyes dissipates before you can notice them when he swears upon his resolve. “No innocents, you have my word. After all, you know what I am now. I can fight with all my weapons–” He grins, allowing you a clearer view than what you had earlier. “Teeth included.”

“And if I happen to drain the occasional bandit during a fight, what's the harm? They’re just as dead.” He makes a very compelling argument, at least to your standards.

You sigh, satisfied for now. You’re confident that none of your party members would end up at the mercy of his fangs, and you’re more than sure they would be able to overpower him more than your attempts did. But the same sentiment cannot be shared for possibly important, plot driving, characters that you might meet later on.

So you propose something to strengthen your trust that the unlikely will stay the unlikely.

“Look, I’m–” You breathe in, almost as if you're trying to suck back whatever courage washed over you back in as you steeled yourself for what you were about to say next.

“I’m not against you feeding from me, but!” You punctuate the last syllable as you see his grin growing wider. “We need to discuss things beforehand. No prowling over me while waiting for me to wake up or to sink your teeth into.”

The proposal greatly delights him, as is evident in his response. “Of course! That sounds eminently reasonable. I shall wait patiently until you suggest we… dine together. But until then: no more late-night surprises. You have my word on that.” 

After that, he makes a joke about feeling ‘peckish already,’ and quickly gathers the rest of the party to leave on their adventure.

You promise them a feast when they came back as the victors that they are. What you forgot, after what felt like weeks in the real world, was the crowd that would come filtering in to celebrate their heroes’ achievements as well.

————————————

When you saw the tieflings from the grove traveling alongside your companions, you knew they had come to celebrate. And you blanched at the thought of the provisions they’d be seeking to pair with their drinking. It’s been so long since you went through this event, and you no longer recall if they even ate anything during the party.

You look at your bubbling cauldron–– a bigger one as you had anticipated a few acquaintances accompanying them–– but you wager that at least a little extra things to nibble on won’t hurt to have. You still have quite the amount of camp supplies in the trunk, but you keep it reserved for the camp’s use only. So you smile at your returning comrades and alert the others that stayed behind for your reason to leave and that they can begin eating dinner. 

While others told you it wasn’t necessary, the rest just nodded with a smile and yelled that they’d wait for you to return. You return quite too quickly though, all the while informing them why you’re keeping the communal chest in your tent as you spy the child that tried to steal and swindle the group a few days prior approaching with the rest.

They have a laugh and you quickly proceed with your plan to find at least a few consumable berries and nuts or seeds to accompany the drinks later on. 

But foraging for said consumables near dark is a choice not for the faint-hearted. You came to realize this when you heard the low grumble of a large animal, thankfully far from your form. You turn to look behind you, taking great care to do so as slowly as possible so as to not alert the mysterious creature.

In the clearing, you spot a rather dark looking bear and you feel a cold sweat begin to form on your temple. Hands, growing wet in the dangerous situation you’ve placed yourself in. This wasn’t the same as being drained to death by a vampire, that, you could at least reason with. But a wild animal? With your lack of magical prowess and lesser knowledge of connecting with nature and the wild, you would be finished if it were to follow you.

The small pouch of nuts and wild berries stayed holstered on your waist, but the bear’s eyes that were previously low on the ground are now trained on you. Almost as if it were caught doing something it wasn’t supposed to be. 

You freeze. You forgot what the basic policy was around brown or black bears and therefore couldn’t do much about your current predicament. There shouldn’t be a bear around this area, not unless they had traveled from far away, or that this bear was one of your future companions.

And while the latter isn’t impossible, you most certainly did not want to gamble your life on a possibility. So you tried to compose yourself, returned the gaze of the bear with a shaky and careful nod, and turned back to return to camp. Figuring that the amount of tidbits you gathered would have to suffice.

 When you return, the company you shared seems to be in high spirits. Some more than others. But conversation was plentiful and you smiled as the tieflings cheered for your comrades. You quickly got to work and began to chop the nuts into thinner pieces. Something you learned to make the appearance of something look more abundant than it really is.

While you were chopping away unfortunately, you nick your finger along the way and silently curse. Unfortunate, but not an unforeseeable outcome given the booming drums of the bard that plays oh so nicely with your bloodless state. You quickly, but neatly, arrange the provisions on two small platters, and position them near the larger gatherings. 

“Flitting around like a hummingbird as always, I see.” A familiar, but not immediately recognizable voice greets you as you pass them. You turn and you see an unexpected acquaintance with a bottle in their hand and an incredibly charming grin.

“Dammon! How lucky of me to run into you.” You genuinely were elated to see him. You didn’t see much of him later on in the game, and being able to interact with him beyond the opportunities given to you was certainly nice.

“I could say the same. Though you’re as lively as you usually are.” There’s no malice in his tone, only an innocent observation, yet you feel embarrassed to have been seen scuttling about like a bug.

“I– promise I’m more organized. I just didn’t expect us to be having any guests.” He takes notice of how you push your fingers into your palms repetitively, a small action that soothes you.

“I think you’ve done more than a fine job already. The celebration is for you all, and it was us who planned to come and might’ve put your friends on the spot.” He later takes notice of the cut on your finger as well.

“Speaking of,” He gingerly grasps your hand, looking to you for permission, but you’re too confused to respond with anything he can understand. “Shouldn’t you be taking it easy for the night? You’ve done enough. And if what happened at the grove tells me anything about you, I’m sure they’ll survive even if you settle. Just for a bit.” 

He leads you nearer to the water and produces a small washcloth to clean a bit of your finger as you respond. “The grove? They did that on their own. I just um, take notes.” You sit on a fallen tree, your head still fuzzy, as you observe his crouched form. Inspecting the cut as he cleans it. 

A curious interaction. Not one that you’d expect from an non-romanceable NPC, but an interesting one nonetheless. And it would seem that someone had found it equally as interesting, if the way he scrutinizes you had anything to do about it.

He chuckles in turn. “If modesty is how you like to live, then I won’t impose.” He smiles and gets up as you continue your conversation. You don’t recall if the tiefling has ever had this much screen time, but his voice is rather lovely so you don’t complain about it.

You end up discussing quite a bit, but you focus on what can be done about your party. Specifically Karlach as you worry for the future and you’d like to have answers for her when he isn’t around during your journey. He doesn’t have much idea of what else can be done, but he does mention that he should have something by the time you meet him again in Baldur’s Gate.

You do remember that you might meet him a lot sooner, but you don’t mention it explicitly. You do, however, advise him to be extra careful around the oxen as they can be rather unpredictable this time of year.

As you continue, you notice his eyes flit up every now and then. Like something was catching his attention ever so often. You ask him about it and he actually laughs at your genuine inquiry. “It looks like I was wrong. Your friend there looks like he’d like his turn for your company.”

You turn around and you don’t immediately eye anyone looking in your direction. You were never the subtle type, so you looked around, blatantly searching for someone. It was a bit odd to see.

Your eyes do eventually train on his, but he doesn’t necessarily look like he wants to talk to you. Sure, he’s scowling away, though that’s not out of the ordinary at all. Besides, he has a bottle of something that you hope is helping him relax.

Still, perhaps Dammon saw something you didn’t so you politely thank him for his company and excuse yourself.

You greet the others that regard you as you walk past them. Declining the offers to drink and excusing yourself politely when you were asked to stay a bit. 

As you approach him, a tiefling tries to strike up a conversation with him. With a bored look, he dismisses them and turns to look at you. He takes a sip, sneers, and begins his rant now that you’re situated in front of him.

“I hate it. This is awful.” 

“The…wine?” He looks at you as if he should be mad, but a hint of amusement surfaces past the expression anyway. 

“There’s that, but I’m talking about the tieflings. We killed some goblins to save the others. The tally of lives didn’t change much. But what do I get for my hard work? A pat on the head, and vinegar for wine.” He looks down the neck of the bottle, swirling its contents before handing it out for you to take.

You look at the bottle, then him, warily. Modern alcohol is already a wonder to you, and this medieval mead could only do so much worse. Still, you take the bottle, and take a very small sip.

It’s a heavy, rich, red. Dry and sharp. You make a small sound of shock as you keep the liquid in your mouth. Offering him an awkward smile and a nod as you do.

“Ugh, see what I mean? Awful.” 

“All I want is a little fun. Is that so much to ask?” You would think that after an entire day of fighting whatever was out there he’d be tired. Apparently not. 

You sigh, ready to reprimand him and that he should just enjoy the night, but you stop when you feel his unburdened hand reach out to you. Eyes, boring into your own as he propositions you.

You’re here. Face in the grasp of a character you’ve longed to romance with what little time you’ve had away from your scholarly pursuits. Yet meeting him in strange, yet not all too unfamiliar, territory stirs uncertainty within you. Because while he doesn't have a knife at your throat like he did when your character first met him, it certainly does evoke the same sentiment.

‘To, “make me his”, is that right?’ While the idea is tempting, that statement alone can have various interpretations. And you didn’t want to hedge your bets on the one that made your heart race for all the wrong reasons.

Thankfully, he releases his hold on your visage. Only the gods know how much his touch alone can influence you, and you struggle to stand upright.

“I’m– very,-- truly, sorry, but don’t you think you have the wrong person? I mean,” You gesture to yourself with both hands, a cut visible from the labor in the few hours prior to the large festivities going on.. “Uh…in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly in a position to make any um, lucrative offers.” 

 He looks at you, a familiar expression graces his face. He leans his weight on one leg, and you struggle to recognize what his body language is conveying. This is one of those instances you wished you had the dice roll mechanic of the game at your disposal. 

“Why, that hardly matters, darling. What matters is that you’re here.” He takes a sip from his bottle, the very same that he allowed you to partake from moments prior. Only this time, without the sneer at the aftertaste as he continues.

“But then again, what’s a sinner to do when faced with the very embodiment of chastity?” A smile graces his face, but it’s one that is all too perfect. As if he’s rehearsed the same song and dance enough to save him lifetimes.

“Let’s wait until things quieten down. Once the others are asleep we’ll find each other.” 

You have no idea what to expect. Well, you do, but you’re not very sure if this is necessary. You’ll just have to find a way to continue the story without having to go through with this. For now, at least. 

“We’ll see about that, Astarion.” 

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

Thank you to @rey26, @shyminnie07, @lynnloveshobi, @iggee-rose, @automnepoet, @tiannamortis, @aoirohi, @sarkara211, @jane-3043, @h3110-dar1in9, @h3ll0k1ttyl0ver333, @mimziethealien, @squichymochi, @sharabay, @furblrwurblr, @dork-of-the-universe, @thedevilssinner, @fuckalrighty, @queenofthespacesquids, @perseny, @goldenplutus, @h4nluv, @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer, @auszimbo, @maruichio, @iamsexytrash, @craig-mywifeisdead-boone, @grimissleepy, @fandomsfanman, @bitchyzombienacho, @r1kk, @ancuninstar, @izuoyarmin, @gracemisconduct, @kiinokochii, @marina-and-the-memes, and @life-is-hard-m8 for asking to be tagged!!

#astarion ancunin x reader #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin #astarion x mc #aware!astarion #baldur's gate 3 x reader #astarion x you #bg3 x reader #bg3 x reader isekai(?) #possibly also a Dammon x reader? #slight!! #Slight Dammon x reader

[spirantization]

I'm surprised at the hate that Sokka's character arc from NATLA is receiving. To me, Sokka's development and characterization was one of the strongest adaptations the series made.

In the original ATLA, Sokka's character arc revolves around him unlearning his own misogyny. He makes pointedly sexist comments throughout the early episodes like "Leave it to a girl to screw things up!", "There's no way a bunch of girls took us down!", etc.

Sokka's comments have a strong narrative purpose: they give a platform for women in the show (Katara & Suki mostly) to refute his attitude. Katara emphasizes traditional "women's work" (cleaning, cooking, sewing, etc), which forces Sokka to confront its inherent value. Suki is able to prove to him that women can fight too and he learns to respect female warriors. It's a great character arc and it's well-executed.

It's also characterization that is in direct response to the culture and feminism of the 90s and early 00s. The representation of women in the media at that time was...oof. It was not great. One-dimensional love interests whose only purpose is being saved by the male protagonist, mostly. Female protagonists were not as common, and certainly not ones who were depicted as being able to fight, and certainly not in cartoons. Female protagonists in animation were almost exclusively princesses.

ATLA was progressive in this regard. Katara was a complex female character in a time when there were not a lot of them, in media in general but especially in animation and kid's shows. (I grew up in the 90s; there were no characters like Katara in animation on screen for me.) ATLA incorporated the zeitgeist directly into the story, which is why we have Sokka learning to overcome his sexism in his interactions with Strong Female Characters.

If you go back and watch the original cartoon now, Sokka's sexism feels a bit dated. It's a very 90s, Girl Power, "girls can fight too" style of social commentary. It doesn't match with the media landscape of today. We've got 20 years of media with female superheroes behind us. If your message is "girls can fight too!" the response for the most part is going to be "yes, we know that. And?"

So imagine you're adapting the original ATLA for a live-action remake. You want to keep Sokka's character arc intact, but you want to update it for the 2020s. So what do you do? You look at the conversations that are happening today.

The 90s were about "girls can do everything boys can do", but the 20s are over that. The conversation is more about gender: gender expression, gender roles, gender dynamics. What does is mean to be a woman? What does it mean to be a man?

Sokka's character arc in NATLA is focused on this question: What does it mean to be a man? At the beginning of the series, it's his identity as a warrior that defines him. He needs to be the warrior, the protector, the leader. He's constantly trying to reaffirm this part of his identity, and it's completely tied up in his perception of his value as a man. Instead of his interactions with Suki being about "how could girls possibly be warriors", it shifts to Sokka saying "I'm ALSO a warrior" and trying to justify that to Suki (and mostly himself).

His arc over the series is about him accepting other aspects of himself and relearning how to define his masculinity. He can still have value as man without being the greatest warrior. He can still have value as a man by using his skills as an engineer. He can still have value as a man by offering compassion and kindness to others, like the little girl with the doll & Yue in her final moments. Instead of rigidly defining himself by a specific set of gender roles & expectations, he learns how to define himself through his own strengths and qualities.

I know there are a lot of people who are upset at this change to Sokka's characterization, and the most common thing I see is that it results in changes to Katara's character and her anger in response to Sokka's comments. I think there are valid criticisms to be made about how the show handled the adaptation of Katara's character, but I won't go there with this. In terms of Sokka and his characterization, it was well-done and thematically consistent with the original. It's not an exact port, and it never needed to be. It's still a feminist arc that centres on unlearning harmful misogynistic worldviews, but the focus has shifted from external (roles of women) to internal (his role as a man). And his journey is one that people would benefit from seeing represented.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #natla #netflix avatar #atla meta #there are many criticisms to make about the adaptation but this just isn't one of them

[redr0sewrites]

omg lowkey having a shitass day and i’m too tired to write for my comfort character and your my fav so 😭😭 literally just any fluffy vox headcanons. literally any! could be only one paragraph IDC i just think it’s so cute how you write him 🙏🙏

OFCCCC!!!!! heres some hcs ab vox comforting u after a long day ♥️

🥀 Cw: none, just fluff!

vox is no stranger to long, tiring days. he's had his fair share of shitty work days and when he comes home to see you exhausted, he immediately notices what's wrong.

vox is very goofy, he's good at reading people and can immediately know if someone's upset, but it's how he reacts that throws him off. like he'll notice something is wrong but won't know how to respond.

he's so used to manipulating people (such as valentino) or just shoving down his own emotions to put on a persona that he isn't great at verbally comforting someone, but his actions make up for it.

he pulls you onto his lap and will run his hand up and down your back to soothe you. while his claws are sharp, he would never hurt you with them, and its much more of a ticklish sensation then anything

speaking of, vox loves it when you laugh. if you're pissed at someone in particular, he will definitely make fun of them to help cheer you up. don't be surprised if they "disappear".... he is an overlord after all. he'd only do this if you want him too tho

vox claims he isn't insecure, but in reality he knows exactly how it feels to feel shitty about everything around you. he's surprisingly empathetic, if you're in a relationship with him he definitely cares about you a lot and i genuinely see him being upset in the situation that you're upset

if you cry, vox may be a little awkward but will go to get you a glass of water. he'll also dim the light of his screen to make sure he doesn't give you a headache and, if you're really upset or tired, he may even take the day off of work to comfort you

vox is the type to turn on soft music when you're sad and pull you into a slow dance right in the middle of your apartment. he doesn't care that you're bleary eyed and that you keep stepping on his feet, he doesn't care that its sappy or that it makes him seem vulnerable to care about you so much. as long as he gets to see you smile and giggle as you both clumsily swirl around eachother, he's content in staying in this moment forever.

if you're ever angry/frustrated and take it out on him, he may be a little pissy but he can take it, especially if you feel really bad afterwards. he doesn't take it to heart if you have a bad day and snap at him, hell, he does it all the time. he may be a little pouty if you don't apologize but don't worry he'll get over it in a few minutes once he sees how tired you are

while vox is a little chaotic, he's a genuinely good person to vent too because he will literally always agree with you no matter what. you murder someone? its their fault for walking into your knife. he absolutely supports your rights (and wrongs) no matter what

he's also a pretty good listener in general because he just. listens. he doesn't give unnecessary input, he doesn't try to play devils advocate, he just listens and shows interest in what you have to say and comforts you when necessary. he doesn't see why thats such a big deal, but he genuinely is a pretty decent listener.

vox is also a yapper though, if you need to get your mind off of your day just tell him and he'll start explaining the most random things to you. oh, you had something really embarrassing happen today and you want to forget about it? well now you're going to listen to 500 shark facts while also hearing the entire princess bride lore. sorry not sorry.

vox would find the shittiest movie with the worst cgi imaginable for you both to watch after a long day, he loves curling up with you on the couch and making fun of horribly animated graphics together

i also think he's (secretly) a fan of corny romance films and/or romcoms, and would want to recreate cute scenes with you (but would literally never tell you that) so you both may end up watching cutesy romance movies too

(this is the song i had in mind bc its soo vox, so u can listen to this for the "full experience")

"aw c'mon bub, don't tell me your too mopey to dance?" vox extended his hand to you, yet his smile was a little more forced than usual. his eyes were wide on his screen, almost concerned about the teats staining your cheeks.

"m' fine voxy.." you mutter, turning away. "it was just a bad day." vox pouts, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him.

"trust me, this will make you feel better," he assured, pulling you to your feet. vox snapped his fingers and a bright, upbeat tune began to play in the background. pulling you in close, vox twirled you around before stepping back, switching to a simple slow dance.

you can't help a soft smile from creeping onto your face as vox continues to exaggeratedly spin and pull you around. hell, if anyone could see you both now, they'd be shocked.

"who knew that the overlord of technology was such a sap?" you giggle, pulling vox down by his tie to give him a kiss, and he chuckles in response. vox pouts, yet his eyes crinkle a bit as a genuine smile graces his features. "only for you!!".

i saw this and immediately opened my drafts 🫡 it is a CRIME that i haven't written any vox fluff when he's literally one of my fav pookies. i have literally only written smut for him 😭 anyways, i hope this made ur day at least a bit better!!!! sending lots of love ur way ♥️♥️♥️♥️

also i am SO honored to be called ur favorite bc hello??? ur my favorite too?????

#vox x reader #vox x you #vox x oc #vox x y/n #vox headcanons #vox fluff #vox x reader fluff #vox imagine #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x oc #hazbin hotel fluff #the vees #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox

[hattersarts]

gomens s2 thoughts, all spoilers!

I spent 10 hours talking to my housemate about the season after we binged the whole thing in the morning but here are the highlights and the biggest takeaways from the season.

okay i did love the ending, i love that we get the conformation of love AND going into the divorce arc next season (if they're not properly together by the end of season 3 however, i am rioting) they're slow burn and a whole season of them getting to the final 10mins was tasty.

HOWEVER. it was an extremely clunky season when it comes to writing, lots of either set ups missed OR set ups repeated 4 times that they're drilled into out heads. there was also lots of dialogue that really needed to be tightened up. the lesbians were so poorly written i thought they might have needed to be cut BUT they just needed to have more bearing on the rest of the plot AND say things like real people would say things and LITERALLY SHOW ONE SINGLE REASON WHY THEY WOULD LIKE EACH OTHER WITHIN THE FIRST EPISODE.

gabe/bulz romance was the one that should have been cut, have them do more of a oh-my-god-my-boss-sucks kind of thing, lean into them complaining about having to avert a civil war after armageddon stopped and touch on the "structural problems" the angels mention later. Have gabe/bulz be super punished for working together which puts huge fear into az and crowley about what happens if you try to team up as an angel/demon pair (but an extra reason why az takes the job at the end so he and crowley can be the same)

imo it works more if the only mirror of their romance is the HUMANS which should lean into themes to season 3 of how they need to team up with humans (re:"us vs them" line at the end of season 1) to actually achieve their happy ending.

Nina and maggies best scene was their last one telling crowley he needed to talk to az but i think that was one that needed to be cut, it would have been far more satisfying to have crowely work out it out himself that he loves az and wants to tell him (still via maggie and nina but more subtle rather than them telling him to his face AND via spending more time with az in the season)

flashbacks were all pretty good, loved the jobe one and that final "lonely" scene. the nazi one needed some trimming the most (why did all three come back to earth, it made scenes too crowed, have them fight to be a zombie)

shax was disappointing, she was kind of just incompetent the whole way through which didnt make the stakes very exciting, (that whole scene of her talking to the legion was unfunny and pointless) i wanted crowley to mentor her more like when he gave her advice in the first few meetings we saw (kind of in a very non-demonic way, not expecting anything in return) and her to then meet him on equal footing in the finale. would have been a little accidental taste for Crowley to have his good deeds come back to haunt him while showing he's different to demons.

speaking of the finale fight, that halo had NO set up, it was sick as hell but ??? the fuck did that come from. the fight should have been won by az and crowley performing another HUGE miracle together, discorporating the demons (which then would alert heaven and hell something was up in the bookshop and the final scene can happen)

az taking the job from metatron was very good, its consistent with his character where he still hasn't let go of his faith in good/god, he's only been upset by the angels running heaven and still has faith in the system while crowley has realised none of it works and it's only them together that matters. it was nice to show he still hasn't truly accepted crowley for who he is now (tho imo he knows he loves him, he just hasn't quite unrepressed himself) and him not turning down the job after crowley confesses to him shows he still thinks he can fix it. Crowley on the other hand thinks he's now lost him, az has broken he the trust he had in him, he's going to be in big depression mode

few thoughts of good directions for S3:

finally delivering on what crowley said at the end of S1 I think is the most satisfying. the final showdown should be humans Vs heaven/hell with Crowley and az on the human side, helping them win the conflict. there would be suggestions that this is actually god's ineffable plan, this is a conflict she wants to happen and the things that Crowley and az went through are what make them perfect ambassadors to help the humans.

the set up for az in S3 to finally work out he and Crowley can't work out within the unfair rules of the system and for him to abandon heaven (tho not I think, becoming a demon) is good. a sucky ending imo for season 3 is if az somehow "fixes" heaven and via bureaucracy and not via blowing it all up.

growth moments for Crowley in S3 might be having more contact with humans since he's already abandoned hell and it would put az & crowley on similar footing (as az very much loves humans already) when they decided to side with humans for a humans Vs heaven/hell conflict.

anyway, gay people

#this is all the surface stuff really #im having fun re-plotting the episodes for thr same end but tweaked to be more satisfying

[mewintheflesh-2]

Without You

Rating: Teen and Up audiences

Archive warnings: None

Characters: Francis Mosses, Original Characters

Tags: Unrequited Love, heartbreak, Song: Without You (Strawberry Guy), Crushes, Unrequited Crushes, Francis Mosses has sensory issues (briefly mentioned), minor blood and injury, Francis deals with the qualms of being a retail worker (kinda), men crying, emotional hurt, hurt/no comfort, not beta read, Reader is gender neutral.

Word count: 1,800 (rounded down)

Summary: Francis wasnt having a good time.

And you're not about to make it any better

Also posted on Ao3

Francis sighed solomly as he gripped the now empty milk carrier. Hard enough to leave imprints on his hand and whiten his knuckles.

His black leather shoes clicked and clacked against the cold, concrete sidewalk. The sunset painting everything around him in a golden light. It'd be nighttime soon.

He lifted his free hand to his head and clutched his sweaty hair from underneath his hat. He was so tired. He just wanted to get home and sleep.

But he mostly just wanted to talk to you.

Even if you only really talked through that thick, protective window, youd been making more and more conversation with eachother each time you spoke, getting to know eachother more and more each day.

It wasnt long before Francis' lovesick brain fell head over heels.

It was everything about you. The way you looked, with a smile rivaling the warmth of the sun, and just as dangerous to his heart and mind. You always seemed to know exactly what to say to him to pull at his heart like a puppet on a string.

If he didnt know any better, hed say you were doing it on purpose.

He wouldnt mind either way.

Francis slugged up to the reception window, a weight lifted off of him at the sight of you at your desk.

He pushed his ID and Entry Request inside the letterbox for you to receive, planting his hands on the metal shelf jutting out of the wall just below the window; watching you expectantly with a simultaneous aching and soothing feeling in his heart.

After a minute of shuffling papers and opening folders, you look up at him.

"Hello, Francie." You smiled warmly at him.

There it was.

That nickname.

God how it made his heart swell. 

'Francie.'

Such a cute nickname

and it was just for him, gifted from you.

"How's your day been?" You tilted your head slightly at him, setting down and organizing his identification and sliding his profile back into the appropriate folder.

Francis looked at you for a second before frowning. "Not great." He sighed as he shook his head softly, looking down at his shoes.

Your eyebrows knit together in concern, a frown adorning your lips.

"I'm sorry, Francie. What happened, if you dont mind me asking?" Your voice was so warm and soft as you leaned in closer to the window.

It made Francis' heart flutter for a second before he had to think back to all that had happened earlier.

"It's just a lot of little things building up. I'm probably more upset about it than I should be." Francis looked down at his hands, and then up to you.

The expression on his face was just killing your heart. 

"Im all ears." You speak softly as you push your chair in closer to your desk, and by extension, the window.

"If theres anything you need to say, then say it. Its always nice to get things off your chest, dont you think?" You smile softly at him, pushing your chair closer to your desk, and closer to the window by extension.

"Are you sure?" Francis looked around, almost worried. Surely he'd be taking up your time on your job if he did that, right?

"I have all the time in the world-- and I'd rather be talking to you than anything else right now." You assured, that deadly warm smile on your lips again.

The words made Francis feel warm and soft.

A small smile appeared on his face for a brief, fleeting moment. 

 Francis stared at you for a moment, as if asking for approval to speak.

You nod.

He sighed, looking down at the metal shelf infront of him as his ungloves hands tapped at it, wondering where to begin.

"Its just- work has been just awful today.  Someone had left their dog outside, as soon as it saw me it wouldn't stop chasing me, i tried to run away, but it eventually caught up to me and bit my leg.

It wouldnt let go until I had to pry it off of me. And even then it didn't leave me alone for awhile. Not until it's owners came back to take it off of me." 

You frowned, trying to open your mouth to speak, but Francis kept talking.

"And because of that dog, i dropped and broke multiple milk bottles on the sidewalk. So after the dog got taken off of me, i tried picking up the glass since I didn't want anybody accidentally stepping on it because of me, but the shards cut me. Badly. Even through my gloves."

He held his hand up to the window for you to see. There were bloodied bandages wrapped around his hand, and several smaller cuts on his bare fingers. 

You cringe at the sight.

"I had to take them off to clean the wounds, and everything has just been sensory hell ever since." Francis' face draws to a grimace.

"And to make things worse, I had to deal with people yelling at me for being incompetent for losing their deliveries."

He clenched his jaw, his expression doesn't look anything but sad.

"Even though it wasn't even my fault. I'm not the one who left their dog outside. And just to top it off, I've had a horrible migrane all day, and It's just-" He inhales and groans,  collapsing onto the metal shelf infront of him.

"I just want to take a break. I just want to rest."

He mumbles as he tucks his face into his folded arms.

Silence, for a moment.

"Francie........... That's awful-- I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?" You frown sympathetically as you push you chair forward even more, squishing yourself against your desk and placing a hand on the window infront of you.

Francis lifted his head to look up at your hand, and then at you.

"I think talking to you and going to sleep is  enough for me to feel better." Francis smiled briefly before registering what he'd said, casting his gaze anywhere but you after he realized what he'd spoken.

You laugh softly. "If you say so."

Silence for a bit, as Francis regains his composure.

He lifts himself up, slowly propping himself on his elbows on the shelf, leaning his head on his knuckles, huffing out a breath of air.

"...How was your day?" He asks after a beat, head tilted curiously.

You smile, retracting your hand from the window. "My days been pretty slow, but im meeting someone later, so im pretty excited for that."

Meeting someone?

...

Francis blinked for a second. His expression faltering to a look of sadness for just a moment.

No. Surely you didnt mean it like that.

"Meeting someone...?" He echoed.

"Mhm." You smiled softly at the thought. "We met just a few days ago. He seems pretty nice, I'm excited to get to know him more." You lean your head on your hand, mirroring the man behind the glass.

"A-ah.......... Congratulations." Francis did his best to refrain from letting any indication of his emotions fall upon his face as he straightened himself out; but he couldn't help but frown. 

"Francie? Are you alright?" You tilted your head the slightest bit, voice a catalyst of concern for the man standing on the other side of the thick, protective glass. 

"Mhm. I just remembered something. Apologies." He held the brim of his cap between his pointer and thumb, pulling it down over his eyes the slightest bit to avoid looking at you. But he really couldn't help himself.

"Oh, alright. Is there, uh, anything I can help you with?" Your voice was calm and careful in a way that just broke poor Francies heart even more. "About what you remembered- I mean." 

"No, no. It's fine. Thanks for the offer." He shook his head softly, forcing a small smile as he looked down at the shelf infront of him.

"Of course, Francie." Your eyebrows knit together in concern. "Just let me know if there's anything I can do for you. You can tell me anything." 

"Mhm. Thank you." Francis took a quick glance at the door, before looking back in your direction-- though nowhere near directly at you. You put together he was probably signaling to you that he wanted to leave now.

"I'll see you tommorow?" Your voice was soft, sweet, a delicacy and a curse to Francis' ears.

There was a light buzzing noise as you pressed the button to unlock the main entrance. 

"Mhm. Goodbye." He waved at you softly, only actually looking into your eyes for a brief, fleeting moment before walking away. 

"Goodbye........." You spoke quietly, a soft pit in your stomach as you watched Francis dissappear through the doors.

You were so caught off guard by his sudden change in behavior you nearly forgot to lock the door again.

He usually liked to stay for as long as he could.

Was it something you said?

You frowned, leaning back in your chair and fidgeting with some papers.

You'd have to ask him about it tomorrow.

Again began the waiting for your neighbors to return to their apartments.

Francis opened his apartment door with shaking hands, keys jingling as they were set on his kitchen counter.

With a heavy sigh, he flicked on his lamp, enveloping the room in a warm yellow glow, trying to keep his composure.

Slowly but surely he kicked off his shoes, grabbing and throwing his hat onto his dresser.

Just as he was about to unbutton his uniform he was hit with a sudden disgusting, sickening feeling in his chest as tears welled up in his eyes.

He shook his head, eyes squinting involuntary as he let himself fall onto his bed.

He lied there, staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore anything he was feeling.

But no matter how many times he tried, something still peeked through.

He inhaled sharply through his nose as he flipped himself over onto his stomach, nestling his face into his soft pillows.

The feeling in his chest was too intense to bear, he could feel his breath become sporadic, unsure if it was because his face was buried in his pillows or otherwise.

He inhaled sharply once more, this time followed followed by a small Hic as his throat began to close up.

No, no, he wasn't going to cry. It's not that big of a deal. He's fine. He should be happy for you if anything.

But. With everything that happened up until that point. He really couldn't help himself from letting his emotions get the best of him.

Hot tears soaked into his pillow as his hands clutched at his hair violently, hissing in pain as his wounds flexed open.

He grits his teeth, another hic escaping his lips as he opened his eyes into the pillow.

Nothing but a warm, yellowish void.

 He pushed himself up and flipped onto his side, curling into himself, yanking a blanket over his shoulders before clutching his head, throbbing in a burning pain once again as he cried quietly.

He didn't even turn off the lamp before he'd passed out.

Silent, steady breathing, wet cheeks illuminated by the soft yellow light of his lamp. 

Tired eyes, finally getting their well deserved rest. 

An aching heart, beating slowly, deep inside his chest.

#Francis Mosses #Tnmn #Tnmn milkman #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #francis mosses tnmn #That's not my neighbor #Milkman #thats not my neighbour milkman #thats not my neighbor #Tnmn fanfic

[brailsthesmolgurl]

Salvation

In another parallel universe, the legend was retold. The God of Sea and his bride has A heart so great that it holds the power to bring Lemuria back to its olden days glory. The bride however, is untouchable. If so, who is going to be salvaged?

Here comes the parallel universe ending! I know it was long awaited, but thank you for waiting patiently as all of my written stories are planned meticulously hence it takes up a LOT of time.

Read the start of this series: Damnation

Read the sequel of the Damnation: Retribution

Warnings: Angst, Spoilers for Rafayel Lore, Character Deaths, Gore and Blood (tbh its a common theme for this series already). A little bitty suggestive heh cause my hormones are raging for this man. Smol surprise at the end :)

"Tomorrow marks the day." Rafayel's slender fingers ran through y/n's curls, a smile slowly stretched across her lips, her cheeks evidently turning rubescent under the moonlight's sheen. "Tomorrow is the day I shall bring you to visit Lemuria." The purple haired god laid next to his soon-to-be bride, on her bed, in her chambers. The thing he could do to her right here and right now were endless. And none of them involved any items of clothing. That was how much the young god was holding himself back.

The smile on her face never faded, as her small hands reached up to cup both sides of his cheeks, his face warm and soft to her touch. "I can't wait. Hearing all of those stories from you, no pictures nor drawings could possibly compare to the reality of seeing your kingdom with my own eyes." She said, eyeing Rafayel glistening under the moonlight, the shadow on his face does not cover up his ethereal looks. Rafayel leaned in closer to her, his breath mingled against her cheeks. "You know we should not kiss until tomorrow, right?"

Her reminder of the pre-wedding taboo made him grunted, his lips formed an immediate pout and he threw his head back, clearly frustrated. "I should be the one to ban such traditions next time." He grumbled, but calmed down to look at her when her hands cupped his cheeks again, thumbs smoothing over his chiselled jawline. "How could one possibly live with not kissing their bride the day before their wedding?"

His childlike remark made her giggled. "Your people had done it for ages, and I figured it would only be right if we were to go along with such customs. As I shall be the first mortal bride afterall. I do not wish to upset any of your merfolks." She raised her hand up, surrendering herself and Rafayel leaned forward to hug her tight within his arms. Laughters erupted from the both of them.

When they looked into each other's eyes, their laughters slowed down, mesmerised by one another's gaze. Y/n could barely believe that this very moment is happening to her. It felt like yesterday when she had rescued Rafayel from the sandy shores and released him back into the ocean after he had promised to return to her some day. Now, here they are, awaiting for a grand wedding tomorrow, an official bond to be tied between the God of the Sea and his mortal bride.

The once cherubic looking Rafayel had grown into the dashing young god he is today. With misty purple locks that are naturally wavy---although he constantly claimed that it was the sea water that turned it wavy. Eye colour a mixture of lilac purple and lapis blue, that could change colour depending on the lighting and his mood. A personality that not many can and would want to handle given his nonchalant-ness. Mixing in good looks and his non-chalant attitude, he is like walking trouble amongst mortals.

But she knew Rafayel better than anyone. She knows the way he talks, although condescending to some, she knows that he is not just a talker, but also a doer. He nags her over the smallest of things, be it her dress colour not matching her lip colour for the day or whatnot; she knows that he cares for everything, even for the smallest of details. He yaps like he knows what he wants and gives off the vibe of an independent individual, but deep down, he is just a needy young man, seeking for her constant comfort, validation, love and affection.

These are just some of the small characteristics of Rafayel that made her fall for him even more. She watched as Rafayel inched in, his lips aligned with hers. But before she got to utter a word, he quickly moved his lip upwards and pressed a big kiss onto her forehead. "If I could not kiss your lips, I would just have to settle for kisses on your forehead and cheeks then." He teased her and continued barraging her face with kisses. Their laughters for the night were endless.

Rafayel sat at the edge of her window sill, turning around to watch her as she was fast asleep, her brunette hair messily tousled all over the bed, but she looked picturesque, with the silvery moonlight painted across parts of her face and the steady breathing of her chest made her a living art in Rafayel's eyes. "I shall see you later, my beloved bride." Not wanting to wake her in her slumber, he dived into the water below.

...

"Your highness! Stop running so quickly!" The maid, Natasha cried out, struggling to keep up with the bride's quick feet. "Your dress might get dirty and unkempt! And I did not receive any other gowns from them!" Sadly, the maid was the only one who gave her blessing to y/n's marriage. The king and queen could care less as long as Rafayel kept their pockets loaded with gold.

"Come on Natasha, lessen the apprehension, would you?" The bride slowed down her footsteps and turned to flash her maid a wide smile. "Today is a big day after all and I know, everything is going to be alright." Seeing the bride's grin, Natasha sighed in defeat and trotted behind the bride, exhausted but still anticipating to watch the union ceremony.

When they arrived near the sea stacks, Natasha handed her a red velvet box. Upon opening the latch, the box opened to reveal a veil, one woven from silk that could only be harvested from sea anemones that grow in the far West, the ones that only glow during the winter times. The veil was translucent, with an iridescence of silver glow whenever the light refracted off of its material. The crown that goes around her head is made out of pearls that were harvested from oysters that could only be found in the southern region of the seas. Collected and crushed by the merfolks and infused with a rare blue gem that only Lemurians possessed to create the crown for the veil.

The veil shorts of nothing extravagant, as expected of the God of Sea's taste. Rafayel ensured that this veil was done 6 months prior to the wedding as he does not appreciate any mishaps especially when it is related to his bride. Y/n took the veil out of the box and she carefully placed it on top of her head, Natasha going behind her to dust off the excess sand off of the back of the wedding gown. She also took the time to adjust the veil behind y/n's head, wanting to make sure everything is in place before the ceremony begins.

"It has to be perfect. Perfect." She remembered the way Rafayel nodded his head towards her, spelling the word PERFECT to her just so she could understand him. But Natasha caught him the moment he said the first sentence. Although she just waved him off that time, she knew that on the day of the wedding, Rafayel is the last person she would want to upset. Who knows what would happen to her if she made him upset. The thought itself sent a shudder down her spine.

"How do I look?" Y/n turned to face Natasha and the maid's heartwarming gaze gave her just the answer she needed to hear indirectly. "I can't wait for this Natasha." She held onto the maid's hands tightly. Horns started blaring loudly and the two women looked towards the sea stacks together. The sun rise made the sea blended in with the sands on the shore, the saturated warm glow casted upon the surface of the waters a sight to behold indeed.

Trumpets and choirs joined in with the blaring of the horns and y/n knew it was time for her to present herself walking towards the sea stacks. "Your Highness, your bouquet. Don't forget it." The maid shoved a bouquet of flame lilies and the bride muttered a thanks, hastily holding onto the bouquet before she stepped out from the backs of the huge rock.

The appearance of the bride made the merfolks gasped in awe, the off-shoulder wedding dress was made out of fine silk, and it did a great job in outlining her bodyline and curves perfectly. Her dress cut off at the mid of her thighs, but a big ribbon was attached to her right hip, aiding in the aesthetic and transitional fabric from fine silk to a chiffon tail. The tail of the dress was completely see through, with droplets of diamonds sewn on it. The bride glowed under the ray of the sun and nobody could have dreamed of a better start to a wedding.

Rafayel emerged from the waters, in his mundane form of course, riding on top of two orcas and he was delivered right onto the top of the sea stacks. His clumsy stumble made her giggled, hands going up to cover her mouth. Rafayel donned a full white suit, with a swallow tail at the back of his tuxedo, his hair neatly styled, probably with the help of his people. And the left side of his pocket peeked a corsage with flame lilies, same as the ones she has as a bouquet in her hands.

Upon seeing his bride, Rafayel was enthralled at her beauty, his jaw dropping slightly ajar before one of the merman spit water at him thus he only managed to snap himself back to reality, glaring at the merman who spat at him as he reached up to wipe the stain off of his sleeves. Not like the water did anything to his outfit either, but he had to be sure of it. It is their big day after all.

"Ain't this my bride." Rafayel said confidently when he walked to the edge of the sea stacks, reaching out his hand to her, for her to take so he could guide her onto the sea stacks. "Careful, I do not wish for my bride to be unable to walk before the grand night tonight, yeah?" His wink made her face flushed instantly and she smacked his arm playfully.

Standing next to him, she felt like everything was set in stone for her finally. She got to marry the one that she had always been in love with and she will be one of the very first mortals to visit this forbidden land under the waters. "Here, we rejoice in each other's company. One of merfolk and the other of mortal." Amund, Rafayel's trusty friend took the opportunity to solemnize the wedding.

"This moment shall mark the first of its kind in mortal and merfolk's history. A reunion to be witnessed between the God of the Sea, Rafayel, and his bride, a mortal. y/n. Shall there be any objections towards this blessed reunion..." Amund trailed off, eyes scanning the crowd, both in the waters and the only human on land before he continued. "You shall not be entertained." His sentence took everyone by surprise and everyone shared an understanding laughter. "Hence, Rafayel, would you take y/n to be your beloved wife? Through all suffrage, illness and happiness?"

Rafayel nodded, facing her and confidently saying. "I will always say yes to that. For I will love you for ages to come."

"How about you y/n, would you accept the God of the Sea, Rafayel's intentions of having to love you through all?" You immediately nodded and Amund shouted. "This reunion is blessed, you may kiss the bride!" Rafayel's lip immediately pressed against his bride's, the kiss shared between the two erupted a huge reaction from the crowd. Claps and whistlings and shoutings could be heard from all directions. The choir then resumed its melody when Rafayel pulled back from her lips. "Y/N?" His smile faltered as he watched his bride's irises had turned into a shade of blood red, matching the same colour of the liquid that was oozing out of his chest, staining his white suit into crimson red.

...

Y/N jolted awake in her own bed, beads of sweat littered all across her face. Running her palms across her face, surprised that her face is cold to her touch despite the current season is far from winter. Reaching over to her bedside drawer, she fetched her goblet and drank the contents of it.

A couple of knocks could be heard from her oak door. "Come in." The door slowly opened to reveal one of the maids, Clarrice. The red head walked in, silver tray in her hand, ready to be served to the princess. She bowed partially as a sign of respect, then placed the tray by the highness' study table before she walked over to pull open the heavy drapes of the curtains to reveal the warm sun rays shining in from the windows.

"It seems like your highness has chosen to sleep in today, hence I had drawn your curtains whilst you were in deep slumber." Clarrice smiled, her pink thin lips a contrast to her pale complexion, brown freckles strewn like constellations on her face. Y/N sat on the bed, eyebrows knitted together, not being able to figure out why Natasha is not greeting her as per usual. Given Natasha was the maid that was specifically assigned to care for the princess.

"Have you seen Natasha anywhere?" The princess questioned, taking another sip out of the goblet in her hand. Milk cold to the inside of her mouth, when the princess had always been accustomed to warm milk in the morning.

"Your highness, Natasha was nowhere to be found within her chambers at dawn." When the maid replied, she watched the princess' eyes narrowed and nervously added on. "It seems like Natasha had left the palace in a hurry. All of her items remained within her chambers, including her uniform. All that was missing was her common outfit. She could have left for the farmers market?" The hesitation in the maid's tone does not sit right with y/n.

"You may head on with your day now. Thank you." The princess spoke promptly and the maid hurried out of the chambers. Placing the goblet back onto the bedside drawer, y/n started retracing the dream she had earlier on. All she remembered from her memory was her being at a beach...the beach near the sea stacks!

The princess catapulted herself off of the bed, still in her outfit. Her outfit. She did not noticed the outfit she had on while she was in bed. She is wearing a gown. Specifically a fancy one, one would wear for a wedding. Wedding ceremony. Natasha. Rafayel. When the pieces started to piece together, so did her heart rate quickened. Raising her hands to her vision, she caught sight of splatters of crusted liquid on her palms, a brownish shade with specks of what seems to be blue fairy dust.

Realisation hit her with a truck and she grabbed the rope and tossed it out of her window, sliding down it as fast her hands would allow her to, the pain of the rope burn unregistered into her senses. Guards at this hour were most likely deployed to their stations within the towers hence allowing her escape all the more easier. Once her feet touched the ground, she ran with her bare feet and went out through the gardens behind the palace that leads her straight towards the seas.

Her bare feet carried her past the sandy shores, the strong currents of the sea breeze accompanying her speed. Coming across the huge rock that leads towards the sea stacks, she slowed down her footsteps, seeing bloody imprints on the sand, foot prints that belong to a human.

When she came to the sea stacks, the scene in front of her made her heart stopped beating for a good while. There laid Natasha, on the shore, with a pool of red replacing her shadow. Some parts of her blood on the shore were darkened, a natural occurrence of oxidation of the bodily fluids. The princess screamed for her maid, her friend, and ran towards her, tears uncontrollably rushed down her cheeks. She turned the maid over, only to find the young maiden was covered in stab wounds all across her torso. "Who did this to you?!" She shouted in agony, pulling the deceased into her arms as she cried, while cradling her friend.

"Y/N...." A voice cut through her cries and the nightmare does not end. "Y/N..." Just when she thought she had to suffer losing Natasha, she was met with the image of the God of the Sea, her beloved husband, her forever lover, laid on the sea stacks, blood emitting from the side of his mouth, his eyes losing their usual glow as he tried to call out to her. "RAFAYEL!" The princess cried, laying her friend down carefully onto the sand before she rushed over to Rafayel's side, stumbling her way up the sea stacks and having barnacles cutting into her skin. Yet again, her physical pain were not registered to her senses as of this moment. "RAFAYEL!" Her cries were unstoppable now, eyes turning bloodshot as she pulled her lover into her arms. "What happened?! I will go and get help..."

As she wanted to stand up to leave, Rafayel grabbed ahold of her hand and she regained the memory of the actual cause behind the happening.

...

The vision was murky but she could clearly hear a conversation taken place between two individuals. It seemed to take place within a cave, a female figure, with a singular eel-like tail and a merman, were having a talk. "If she remains untouchable, your kind shall perish." The feminine voice spoke, long, crooked fingers holding onto a round, translucent ball with spikes on it. She seemed to be studying the ball as she spoke. "Eradicating either one might be beneficial for you, as long as the heart is willing to be given."

"Does this mean I have to kill off the God? With my own hands?" The merman spoke, hesitation laced in his voice.

"Do not fret." The woman chanted a spell and a blue pearl appeared within her fingertips. "The mighty gem of Lemurians right? Infuse this with the crown that you would be making for her and the spell shall happen upon their kiss of rejoice, as husband and wife." She handed the blue pearl to the merman and added. "At least now, you won't get your hands dirty."

The merman kept the pearl in his pouch then placed a huge woven basket in front of the woman, a compensation of sorts for her 'service'. The merman turned to exit the caves and y/n gasped when she realised that the merman was Amund.

Her vision then flashed forward towards the moment when she wore the veil. Upon kissing Rafayel, she immediately got possesed by an unknown force, but an entity of evil origins. A dagger was summoned into her hands out of thin air and she stabbed Rafayel right in the heart with it. Y/n screamed out, but her voice was muted, playing the role of a bystander as the vision continued unfolding itself. The God of the Sea was taken aback as he had never thought he would be killed by his very own sworn lover.

His eyes looked into hers. Pupils blown out of the usual proportion before he spat out blood, splatters of it hitting her wedding gown and her face, but the possessed bride was unfazed. Merfolks were horrified as they hurriedly scattered into the seas. For an entity so evil that dares to challenge the God of the Sea, the merfolks know that they are powerless against this possessed individual, be it a mundane. So they chose to flee, hoping that the warrior amongst them, the longest friend of Rafayel's, would come to the rescue.

But Amund just stood by the shore, now in his human form, as he watched the blatant massacre happening right in front of him. A small smirk creeped up onto his face when he knew right then and there, the future of his people are secured. The foregone of a God shall mean one or two of the foretold endings. The princess willingly sacrifices herself to save Lemuria as she knew how much Lemurians mean to Rafayel. Or Amund shall dig the heart out of her if she chooses to be selfish. All with the end goal of him being viewed as the hero, salvaging Lemuria from its end days.

...

The vision ended, with y/n in shock, eyes staring blankly at Rafayel's body in her arms. The God of Sea finally letting his tears run astray, flowing down his cold and blanched face when his bride slowly came to her own realisation. The young god had once told his bride about the specialty of her heart, for he had given half of his heart to her when they made a promise during their first meet.

That moment, Rafayel summmoned a small blue fish within his palms, stating that blue fishes are emissaries of the sea, but he lied partially, knowing the moment she wanted to release him back into the ocean, he had fell in love with her and was sure that she will be the one. Hence, a bonding vow was made without her knowledge, and part of his heart was given to her as a contribution of his love.

The princess turned out to be the bait, the bait to kill Rafayel when he least expected it, just so Amund could gain the heart of either the God or the bride and to return glory to Lemuria. But Rafayel, although wanted to marry a mundane, had never once thought of abandoning his kind. His plan was to bring her to live with him within Lemuria, and with both of their hearts within the vicinity of one another, it could restore glory to Lemuria and no bloodshed would take place. And obviously, this plan was only known to the God of Sea himself. As a God only does what is best for his people and his actions shall reap what he sows.

"Im sorry!" Y/N's lips are only wired to speak these two words, body shaking and voice hoarse, mentally and physically pained, watching the dying God in front of her eyes. "I can't do this without you, Rafayel." Her hands cupped his cheeks, his blood painting her palms in red. "Please don't leave me..." She continued begging. "I could never forgive myself...Please don't go...."

"I am here...I will always be here..." The bride's cries would not stop, eyes avoiding his as she knew that he was stating the opposite of what he actually meant. Until her eyes landed on the dagger that was laid beside Rafayel. The same dagger that she had used to stab Rafayel in his heart, and the same dagger that Amund had used to kill Natasha as to eliminate any witnesses. Rafayel's eyes caught on eventually, but with him on the verge of death, he was physically unable to stop her.

He watched his bride, with eyes widened in terror while choking onto his own blood, trying to form words. "I love you." Were her last words before she stabbed herself with the dagger, right into her chest as well, where his and her heart lies. What comes afterwards was her choking and simultaneously spitting blood right out of her mouth, a sign of her haemorrhaging.

If nobody could take his heart, she shall not give up hers as well. A smile of relieve dawned on her face, the rosiness of her cheeks gradually fading as crimson tears replaced the redness of her cheeks. For she is a mundane, she could not hold on any longer like how Rafayel did, as it takes a while for a God to be fully bled dry.

Her whole body fell limply, like a puppet torn from its strings, and her face landed right in front of Rafayel, forehead touching his. The last breath the God of Sea took, was surrounded by the sounds of the clashing waves, basked within the warmth of the sunrise, his lifeless eyes stayed open, tear streaks are the only colours apparent on his pale face, just like his bride's.

...

Hundreds of years had passed. Linkon city's renowned museum held a grand exhibition, displaying all there is for one to know about the hidden city Lemuria, and its people, Lemurians. The exhibition featured paintings, artworks, artifacts and even 'theoretically-accurate' skeletal structures of the Lemurians. As this exhibition, does run on nothing factual but relying heavily on theories and legends arising from sea explorers.

Y/n held an information pamphlet in her hand, browsing the exhibition before she stopped at one of the large paintings with the title 'God of the Sea'. The painting featured a merman, a tail with two fins for the bottom half of his torso, while the upper is made of a man. Her eyes glanced over at the God of the Sea's face, a fish head that looked all too similar to a sardine fish.

"Don't you think this artwork is suspicious?" A voice travelled from beside her, the tone of the sentence laced with disgust. "In fact, I think this whole exhibition is a total scam." Y/n turned her head to face the source of the voice. A towering young man stood next to her, wearing a white V-neckline shirt and paired with a pair of black slacks and black dress shoes, his midriff secured with a wide belt. "What do you say?" He turned his head to face her, his dusky purple hair matching the shade of his purplish-pinkish-bluish eyes. A smile evidently plastered on his handsome features.

"Who are you to say that?" Y/n crossed her arms across her chest, raising her eyebrows.

"The name's Rafayel." He confidently spoke, eyes glinting with amusement. "Anyways, mind grabbing a cup of coffee with me?"

... DUN DUN DUN!

And this shall officially mark the end for the pain! The story although still had mentions of angst and still caused some evident damage to your hearts, but I made sure I shall give you guys a good ending okay! Do not confuse this timeline with Damnation and Retribution as those are coexisting with this current timeline. SO yes! If you paid enough attention the details, the sea stacks... the sea witch blah blah..... IT IS ALL INDIRECTLY CONNECTED (depending on how you piece it based on your understanding). But yes, my story is written in this specific manner because I purposely wanted the worlds to be connected!

I really really hope you guys had enjoyed this series as I shall be writing more series as such in the future, either with Zayne or Xavier so please stay tuned for that!

If you could, drop me comments on what you think about this story as well! Even if it hurts you, makes you wanna smack yourself (pls dont do that), or whether it leaves you unfazed, I am nosy and I wanna know how this series has affected you mentally! Check out my other works as well on my page!

Wardrobe Malfunction ft LNDS boys

You forgetting a date with the boys *gasps in horror*!

Thank you for reading this series of mine. LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCHIES, MUACKS <3

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #rafayel love and deepspace #lnds #rafayel sfw #rafayel x reader #zayne love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #rafayel angst

[realisticfanfictions]

Being Sanji's Girlfriend & Baratie's Head Waitress - Part 4.

Sanji x Waitress!Reader: Part One, Part Two, Part Three.

Working at Baratie wasn't without its challenges, and the fights that sprung up because of them weren't rare either. You and your boyfriend never sweated the small stuff, after all working in a high stress environment made you, well, stressed. But maybe some things can't be resolved that easily.

Tags: Sanji x Reader, Waitress!Reader, constant bickering, mostly fluff with some angst, (heavy) swearing.

A/N: Initially going into this, I was planning to have the fishmen come in and have the Mihawk fight, but it was a bit more important to set up some more character dynamics before I moved onto 5k words of action scenes. So here's a nice bit of LORE(tm) and a bit more about how Y/N thinks. Next part I promise is 100% action, and I can't wait to show ya'll what I've come up with for Y/N's weapon! It's so cool.

Word Count is 3,421. Hope you enjoy!

Tag list (comment to join!): @siriuslyblackonback @jvhoons

"So, you're really going to fight him?"

Zoro, not looking up from cleaning his swords, nodded. "It's my dream." He explained, observing the blades for any damage. After he challenged the swordsman, the next few things happened rather quickly. The scramble to get Luffy as if that'll somehow convince him to stand down, the captain instead supporting his first mate's goal, and Nami storming off upset. It all passed by in a blur, and now you were alone with Zoro in their ship.

You nodded and turned to look out of the porthole, observing the calm seas that rocked the boat. "I guess dreams are worth dying for." You sighed and leaned back in your chair. "Sucks you met Mihawk too early."

His jaw tightened, and set down his sword. "If I run now, I'll never become the world's greatest swordsman."

You hummed and watched him through the reflection on the glass. "Honour, huh?" You mused and nibbled on the tip of your thumb. "How ridiculous. You're just like Sanji, uncompromising."

"Don't compare me to that shitbag." He snapped and sheathed his sword, clicking it shut in its scabbard. "Speaking of, why are you with him?"

Confused by his words, you looked over at him. "What do you mean?"

"He cheats on you, doesn't he?" He questioned and turned to face you, leaning against the cabinet. "He seemed pretty friendly with Nami a couple hours ago."

You chuckled. "That's just Sanji. He's obsessed with women. It's more," You thought of the words. "It's like having a dog that you love and care for, and though you go up and pet other dogs, you don't abandon your own dog for some random one on the street."

Zoro's eyebrows raised. "You do realise you just called yourself a bitch, right?"

You rolled your eyes and flipped him off. "Shut up. He's just chivalrous, that's all."

"Well, I'd be watching him if I were you." He walked over, his long strides making it seem effortless to reach you. "Guys like that don't tend to keep only one dog."

You opened your mouth to retort, but shut it and stood chest to chest with him. "Just focus on not dying, alright?" His eyes squinted ever so slightly, and he leaned down close to you, gazing directly into your eyes. "What are you doing?"

He stares for a moment, and then straightens himself back up. "Nothing."

You quirked an eyebrow. "Alright, I'm going home to my boyfriend."

"Wasn't trying to make a move." He retorted and stepped aside, letting you walk past him. "(Y/N)?" You placed a hand on the door frame and turned. "Be careful."

You looked him up and down. "Try not to die."

Mihawk's eyes haunted you like a ghostly presence that you couldn't shake off. It was like you could feel those piercing eyes all over your body, every inch of skin was tainted and you hated it. You always have.

The door to you and Sanji's shared room creaked open, and you popped your head inside. You didn't know what to expect, but Sanji jolting himself upright on the chair that sat in the corner of your room wasn't exactly one of them. The door softly clicked closed behind you, and you slowly walked up to him, his eyes on you the entire time as you sat on his lap. You positioned yourself sideways and leaned your head against his chest, reveling in his warmth when he wrapped his arms around you and placed a kiss against your scalp. Sanji's thumb rubbed circles in your thigh, more of an anxious gesture than anything, as he pressed many more kisses against your skin. You sighed and relaxed into him. "I may have overreacted." You started, ripping the band-aid off. "And I apologise."

He nodded. "Thank you for that. Sorry for not finding you sooner."

You shook your head against his chest. "I was drinking, you would've killed my buzz." You paused. "But I guess it was ruined anyway."

"Oh, I'm sorry-"

He stopped when you held up a hand. "I didn't mean you, Sanji." You opened your mouth, but couldn't find the words. Or rather, you found them, you just didn't want to share them. "A man came asking after our new chore boy."

You felt Sanji tense under you. "Are you okay?"

Mihawk's eyes restraining came to mind. "I'll be fine," You picked at a loose thread. "But Zoro won't."

Your boyfriend's hand stopped and pulled back to look you in the eye. "Zoro?"

"Luffy's friend, the guy with the swords. The idiot challenged him to a duel."

Sanji's head tilted. "Why?"

You let out a small sigh and untangled yourself from him, walking a couple feet to your dresser and pulling out a change of clothes. "Because they're idiots with a death wish." You said as you peeled off your top with a groan. "Fuck. Thank God I don't have work tomorrow."

He watched you for a moment as you shimmied out of your clothes and slipped into some pajamas. "Sweetheart, I'm not really comfortable with you drinking with pirates. I mean, it's a bit dangerous-"

You scoffed, pulling an oversized shirt over your head. "They're not pirates," You said as you tugged the shirt down, barely bothering to notice it was a gag shirt with an octopus on a bowl of rice. "Hell, they barely qualify as sailors." But when Sanji didn't respond, you paused. "Oh, you mean was I drinking with Zoro." You turned around to face him. He was leaning forwards in his chair, leg bouncing. You sighed and walked over to him. "He was just my drinking partner, and he's most likely going to die tomorrow." You run your hand through his blond locks. "It'll be fine. You don't have to worry."

"I'll have to trust you then." He said with a smile, then laughed when your gentle pat turned into a frantic scratch. "Hey! Not the hair!"

A smirk split across your face. "I don't know, Sanji. You might just have to trust me!"

He chuckled and grabbed your hands, pulling you forward onto him and wrapping you in his arms. "You know what I mean."

"I guess I'll just trust you-"

"Yep!"

"And trust that you're doing a good job! And- Sanji!" You squeaked when your boyfriend ambushed you with a barrage of soft kisses pressed across any bit of skin he could reach. "You tasteless toad! You're two tablespoons of terrible!"

"Two tablespoons of terrible." He repeated in a strange voice and you giggled when he tried to tickle you. "Oh no! The tickling toad has come to torment you!"

You push his hands away and trap his face in your hands. "You twat." You smiled and gave him a lingering kiss.

When you parted, he gave a soft smile. "And you even ended it with a 't', brilliant."

You quirked an eyebrow. "You weirdo."

He mirrored you. "And I somehow love you."

"But weirdly, you love me very weirdly."

He nodded. "Birds of a feather."

"If we're birds, you're a flamingo."

"Why?"

"Because if I wasn't dating you, I'd think you were a bit of a flamingo."

He gasped. "Then you'd be a penguin, because you bring me rocks."

You leaned back and gave him a look. "Because I bring you rocks?"

He nodded. "Yeah, you even put them on me. And you help me get my rocks off."

He laughed as you hit him. "Sanji! That's so bad!"

Your hands were caught and you were pulled into his chest, both of you giggling and stealing kisses from each other while occasionally snuggling impossibly closer. Sure, you might be a bad person - but you liked who you were with Sanji. And that's all you really cared about.

You lied. That night you couldn't sleep with hundreds of thousands of millions of thoughts racing through your mind. You felt like you were a greyhound chasing down a slightly too-fast rabbit, every time you got close, sleep just slipped through your fingers. Your gaze drifted from the ceiling where you were counting the nails in the boards, and over to your boyfriend. His sleeping face made a million butterflies emerge from their cocoons in your stomach, your heart beating against your rib cage like an angry gorilla. But something about this wasn't right, and you couldn't go to sleep without doing something about it.

Careful to not wake your peaceful boyfriend, you slowly lifted his arm from around your waist and placed it on his pillow, heart aching at the sight of him trying to seek your warmth. Even in sleep he wanted to be close to you. Grabbing your pillow, you gently tucked it under his searching hand and he brought it to his chest with a soft groan, the smell of you satiating him.

You rolled out of bed and tip-toed over the squeaky floorboards, wincing every time the floor made a sound. After looking back each time and taking moments between each footstep, you made it through the door and quickly shut it behind you. The early morning's chilly air struck you, but you ignored the goosebumps rising under your skin and continued on. It felt strange walking without your heels clicking against the floorboards, but you weren't looking to make noise, or look fashionable in this instance.

The Overnights were rooms for guests who've either had too much to drink, or who pay extra to stay overnight to hookup, or just to stay, again, overnight. You passed by the many in-use rooms filled with snoring and other unseemly sounds, rolling your eyes at the disgusting slobs behind the doors. A room stood out amongst the others, however, and you knew it held what you were seeking. The aura that emanated from it was unmistakable.

You reached into your hair and pulled out a bobby pin, sticking it in between your teeth to open it and then jammed it into the lock. All the locks were the same on the Baratie, and you only had to jimmy the locks, moving the pins frantically within, to open it without much effort. The door clicked open and you gently pushed it open.

When you stepped inside, you felt it. The blade at your neck. Without a second thought, you pushed it from your jugular and grabbed the silver candlestick on the hallway table, holding it firmly as the blade was struck against it. It sliced through with ease and a sharp burning went through your cheek, knowing that if you hadn't moved your head, it would've went through your eye. "You're slow." Came the hauntingly beautiful, yet unsettling voice from your nightmares.

You hissed and shoved his sword away from your face. "You haven't seen me in seven years, and the first thing that comes from your mouth is criticism? How shocking."

"Six." He corrected, and the room was suddenly bathed in a low yellow hue. Dracule Mihawk was a terrifying man. His golden, ringed eyes glowed in the dim light and when they looked you over, it felt like he was observing your soul and picking it apart with the grace one would picking the petals off of a flower. Those eyes locked onto yours. "It's been six years."

You rolled your eyes and pushed past him. The room was a similar layout to your own, with the only difference being the minimalist design and abhorrent amount of red wine. You knew the latter didn't come from the room. Rather, they came from his personal stash that would deem any other man an alcoholic. But Mihawk was simply old-fashioned, born in the wrong non-vampiric century if you will.

He sheathed his famed black blade Yoru in one smooth motion and danced past you, sitting gracefully in his armchair and crossing one leg over the other. Your eyes drifted over to his hat hung on a hook and reached out to run your fingers against the silky feather. "Don't touch it." The old swordsman warned behind you, picking up his book and flipping over the next page. "I despise disorganisation. It needs to be acceptable for my duel tomorrow. Or rather, in the upcoming moments since you have woken me up at such an ungodly hour."

Despite your reluctance, your arm retracted almost on its own. "You were already awake, asshat." You turned around and crossed your arms. "And it'll be creased anyway, so it doesn't matter if-"

"Not necessarily." His words were as sharp as his gaze. "If we go by that barbaric logic, it doesn't matter if a man is murdered since we all die in one way or another."

You scoffed and returned his look with your own glare. "I'm not too sure, you're more experienced when it comes to murdering men."

Mihawk picked up his expensive crystal wine glass, and took a long, silent sip of his Tarapaca. It was placed back down onto the table with a clink. He leaned back in his chair which squeaked as he did so, and interlocked his fingers. "Why are you here, (Y/N)?"

"I was going to ask you the same question."

His head tilted for a moment, before righting itself. "I'm here for Monkey D. Luffy."

You hadn't realised your shoulders were tensed until they drooped down. "That's it?"

He nodded. "I am only here as an obligation to Garp to collect his grandson."

To your annoyance, your throat tightened. "I thought that was an excuse."

"It wasn't." The man you hated sat in his chair completely unbothered. His eyes lingered on you for a moment, before drifting back to his book. He flipped the page. "'But tell me, at the time of those sweet sighs, by what and in what manner Love conceded that you should know your dubious desires?'"

Pathetically, you felt stinging at the corners of your eyes. "'And she said to me: “There is no greater sorrow then to recall our times of joy in wretchedness.”'" You breathed in through your nose. "Inferno, by Dante Alighieri."

"From?"

You cleared your throat. "Divine Comedy."

"What year?"

You took in a breath and shook your head. "1321?"

He said nothing and turned the page. You stood silently, wanting to run but having no strength to do so. His gaze finally lifted to meet yours. "Is that all?"

A chill ran over your skin, and you were once again reminded of the kind of man he was. There was a lot you wanted to say to Dracule Mihawk. So much hatred and anguish that you had to endure, all the suffering handed to you by the well-manicured hands of the greatest swordsman in the world. You hated him. "Unless you want to say anything?"

His eyes held yours for a moment. "Goodnight."

"Go fuck yourself." You practically grew fangs and spat venom at him. Spinning on your heel, you kicked the wall where his hat hung and stormed out of the room.

A scream bubbled in your throat. Your nails dug into your palms, and your lips were bloodied from ripping them open. He had no- you couldn't- he was such a-

As you turned a corner, you felt something pinch the base of your skull and you whipped around. Pulling your gun and aiming it, you locked eyes with the other swordsman in your life. Zoro, bathed in moonlight, turned his attention from his swords to you. The rag he was cleaning his blade with stopped and he was focused solely on you. "I think I know who you are."

You scoffed and shoved your gun back in its holster. "Well, apparently most people don't, so I'll take anything at this point." He was quiet, and your lips tightened into a smile. "Want a drink?"

The door opened with a click and Zoro whistled. "Nice trick."

You put the bobby pin back in your hair with a smile. "Thanks." The Baratie after-hours was a sight to behold, but the bar was even better. You smiled at Zoro and guided him around the front of the bar where the shutters were closed.

"Thought you said it's open all night."

You looked behind you as you bent down to the latch holding the fish's mouth closed. "I said you couldn't get anything on tap around three in the morning," You unhooked the chain and pulled it free from the floor. "Didn't say that the bar was open. Come help me." You shuffled to the side to make room for him, and grabbed onto the shudders. He appeared by your side and hooked his fingers under the shudders next to yours, you both nodded to each other and grunted as you lifted the shudders. You expected it to be heavier, but with Zoro it lifted with surprising ease. The moonlight poured in and illuminated the bar, shining through the empty bottles of booze and creating a kaleidoscope of colours.

The green-haired swordsman chuckled and looked around. "I've never been in a bar after hours." He sat down on a nearby couch normally reserved for V.I.Ps. "It feels naughty."

You shrugged, walking over to the bar and reaching over. "Yeah well, if we're caught I'll probably get fired, so don't fuck around." Your fingers wrapped around the neck of a bottle and you hoisted it to eye-level. "You a rum guy?"

He smiled and gave a half-shrug. "I'm a booze guy."

"Good answer." You said and carried over two shot glasses for the both of you. Sitting down, you tugged off the cork with your teeth and poured yourselves shots. You raised your glasses. "To you dying tomorrow."

His eyebrows raised. "To me surviving tomorrow." He corrected and clinked his glass against yours, keeping his eyes on you as you took a shot together. He sighed, flicking his head and nodding. "That's good."

You nodded and sniffed. "It's very good." You filled your glasses again. "Only the best shit for the only guy that knows me." You gulped it down, and didn't wait for him to finish before filling yours back up.

He chuckled. "I'm the one dying tomorrow, and here you are drinking like it's the end of the world."

"Yeah, well," You sniffed and swirled around the liquid in your glass. "My life kind of fucking sucks at the moment. So, I think I deserve to get shit-faced."

Zoro tilted his head and licked his teeth. "I bet you had a miserable childhood."

You laughed and leaned back, tears pricking at yours eyes as you nodded. "Understatement of the century." You said under your breath and looked up at him, forcing a smile. "I grew up on some private land owned by nobles."

He nodded. "You said that."

"Yeah, but what I didn't tell you was I wasn't born there. My Dad, being father of the fucking year, didn't want to care for a baby so he dumped me with some workers. Then, when I truly got attached to my family and finally was accepted as a member of the community, he just came back and picked me up. Like I was some type of broken watch he left to be repaired." You shook your head and reveled in the burn of the rum as it slid down your throat and warmed your stomach. "And ever since then, he's just tormented me. Even when I got away from him, it's like he's always there just watching me - waiting for me to mess up. And you know, all the shit that I did to make him proud of me? Every late night reading libraries' worth of books just in case he quizzed me on it in the morning. Every lesson in combat styles, or how to sense others, whatever the hell that means. Most of the scars I have are from trying myself to him. But never once was I told 'Good job (Y/N)', or that he was proud of me. He never even smiled at me." You finished the shot and placed it down onto the table. "And you know what fucking sucks? After all this time, all the anguish he's put me through? All I want him to look at me and tell me that he loves me."

Zoro looked at his glass and his mouth tightened into a fine line. "I know the feeling." His eyes drifted back to yours. "To shitty parents?" He offered, raising his glass.

You chuckled and shook your head, but poured yourself a glass and raised it. "The shittiest."

A/N: Um, okay this was pretty heavy and it took me a while to write because I wanted to make it actually matter. I think there'll be a few more parts and then we'll be finished with the Baratie saga! Then, I might take a break and do maybe another series/one-shot while I properly plan the next part. We'll also be naming this series! The poll has concluded and within the next couple of days, we'll be figuring out the name! Comment down if you have any suggestions, or want to join the tag list! <3

P.S: When the Baratie saga is done, I'll release it all as one part so that it'll be easier to re-read. It'll be a bit of its own thing, so stay tuned haha.

#sanji x reader #opla sanji x reader #opla sanji x y/n #opla x reader #one piece live action #opla sanji #opla zoro #opla

[babybluebex]

rememories | tommy shelby x fem!reader

summary: the lee family trashed your betting room, including your most prized possessions, and tommy does everything in his power to soothe you and right the wrongs that the rival gang caused. pairing: tommy shelby (peaky blinders) x fem!reader tags: s1!tommy, tommy being a sweetheart, your daughter's name is thomasine (thanks @lost-in-sokovia for that one), no real warnings for this other than like angst? brief emotional distress? idk author's note: it's come to this lol. i'll be fixing my cillian masterlist later and reblogging it, so y'all can read all of my old tommy fics (and a few other cillian characters lmao) but i hope you enjoy this one!

The backroom was in total disrepair. Chairs were tipped over, things were thrown from tables, coins scattered everywhere and marks of bludgeonings on the walls. The poor little room was merely a shell of itself, its personality and life battered away. You could still hear your husband’s jaded laughter as he made fun of John for wanting to marry Lizzie Stark, but mere minutes ago now seemed like a lifetime away.

Scudboat sat as Arthur poured him whisky, and he explained how the Lees, “the whole lot of ‘em”, came in and destroyed the betting backroom. He was ambushed, he said, or he would have done a better job defending it. You held Tommy’s hands as fear made your own shake, and your husband sighed. “Find what can be salvaged,” he said, narrowly missing John’s angry fit as he kicked a box over. “Anything is better than nothing.”

“This is terrible,” you sniffled, and Tommy extracted his handkerchief for you. It was one that you had bought for him right after you had gotten married and just before he went to war, and you were always amazed that the silky cloth made it as far as it did. You dabbed at your eyes, scowling at your dark makeup that came off, and your heart beat fiercely against your ribcage for a moment. “The children. Was Finn here for this, Scudboat? Or Thomasine?”

“Nah,” he said. “Finn was off in town; Thomasine ain’t come home from school yet.”

“Oh, Tommy, they can’t see the house like this!” you whimpered and clutched your husband’s arm. “It’ll upset Thomasine too much. I’ll fetch her from school and keep her away from the house for a while until this is mostly fixed.”

Tommy nodded wordlessly in agreement, and he began to take off his cap, but he quickly stopped. He was fixated on something on the floor at his feet, and you looked down to match his gaze, only to be greeted with the big leather book that held your most prized possessions: your photographs. You kept the album in the betting room because it was always filled with people, witnesses in case something happened, and, really, who would want to ruin Tommy Shelby’s wife’s photographs?

Your knees crunched on glass as you lowered yourself to the album, and you took it in your shaking hands. The dark green leather was stained black with spilled ink and oil, obscuring your gold-foiled name on the spine, and you opened the book with a creak of the old pages. You didn’t want to have to assess the damage, but the first page already had you weeping pathetically again. The first photograph, the first one ever taken of you and Tommy, sitting and laughing together as Ada tried out her new camera, years and years ago at fifteen and thirteen. It was gone. The page was yellowed all around where the photograph should be, but the picture itself was gone. You wanted to throw the book across the room and scream; you weren’t concerned with material things, many girls from Small Heath were the same way, but those photographs were your pride and joy. The next page was a formal picture taken of Tommy wearing his Army uniform, his lanky seventeen-year-old build a little too small for the uniform that he would grow into. The corner of the photograph was torn but, thankfully, mostly intact.

The third page made you press the book to your chest. Your wedding photographs. You and Tommy had gotten married quickly, two days before he had to go to France, and, in your haste, you hadn’t been able to afford much. You could only afford a single copy of each photograph: one of you in your Sunday best that was your wedding dress, one of Tommy in his uniform, and one of you together. All three photographs were torn to shreds, settled in the spine of the book, waiting for you to find them. Those wedding photographs were the most important thing in the world to you, and now they were gone. Not even pasting glue could fix it. “Tom!” you sobbed, pressing the back of your wrist to your mouth. “O-Our wedding photographs! Th-They’re all ripped up!”

Your husband’s attention went from Scudboat to you, and he walked over to you and knelt down next to you. He took the small bits of photographs in his fingers, examining them intently, and he sighed heavily. “Fuck, love,” he whispered, and your sobs grew heavy. If Tommy was resigned to fate, then there was no chance of them being fixed. “I’m sorry.”

“We-We don’t have any extras, do we?” you stuttered. Your mouth felt dry as your fingers tried to match the ripped edges of photographs up, but they were too far gone. “Tom, d-do we have any others? Th-These aren’t the only ones we have, right?”

Tommy sat down next to you and put an arm around you, and he watched you frantically sob for just a second more before he used his strength to pull you into his chest. The photo album fell out of your hands, and you clutched your husband as you wailed in sorrow. Your wedding photos were gone.

“Mummy?” you heard a little voice call from the doorway, and you turned to see your wee daughter, Miss Thomasine Sophia Shelby, standing at the door. She was holding her school books in her arms, the pink ribbon in her hair coming loose. Thomasine was born just after Tommy come home from France, five years ago, and she looked like a Shelby, dark hair and bright eyes, but she had her father’s smile. “Mummy, why’re you crying?”

You sniffled and wiped at your eyes, not caring that you streaked your makeup to hell and back, and you mumbled, “People came into the house, did us over. I-I’m just sad, that’s all.” You didn’t want to worry your daughter with the real reason why you were so upset, because, truly, you felt silly for being so distraught at fucking photographs. It felt ridiculous for you, as a grown woman, a mother, to be crying over photographs.

Thomasine ran to you and sat her small body in your lap, and she wrapped her small arms around you. “Don’t be sad,” Thomasine told you, and you laughed humorlessly. “It’s okay, Mummy.”

You sniffled and soothed your hand down Thomasine’s hair— the ends of her long hair were turning a little ginger, just the same as her father’s tended to do in the sun— and you kissed her forehead. “Thank you, love,” you whispered. “Hug your father, he’s sad too.”

Thomasine crawled out of your lap and into Tommy’s, and Thomasine started to suck her thumb as Tommy stood up and settled his daughter firmly on his hip. He offered you a hand to stand up, and you sniffled as you gathered the soiled photo album up in your grip and stood up on your own. “If you find any of ‘em,” Tommy called to the room, and he gestured to the album in your arms. “Bring ‘em to her, don’t waste time. Yeah?”

You hardly slept that night. After securing the house and making sure that there wasn’t any other part of it that the Lees had touched, you had tried to go about your life normally, but it was difficult to pretend like you didn’t know that, at any time, rivals could enter your home and slaughter every last one of you. You put Thomasine to bed after dinner, and your girl fell asleep quickly, but you yourself were awake for hours. Tommy had taken your photo album and put it away in his wardrobe; “If you keep it, you’ll fret over it forever.” He was right, of course, because, when the sun came up, you had tugged it out and was trying to sort through the scraps of photographs on your bedroom floor. The room was cold and part of you wished that you could be in bed, holding your husband close, but you needed to do it for yourself. You had managed to salvage a single photograph by the time Tommy was blinking himself awake, and you sniffled as you beckoned him over. “Tommy, look!” you exclaimed. “I-It’s Thomasine!”

“Jesus, woman,” Tommy sighed groggily. “Have you been at this all night?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed. “Her baby picture, look!”

Tommy reached down for you and he took your hand, and he helped you stand up, his hands going to hold your cheeks. “I know you’re having a hard time with this,” he whispered. “But obsessing over it is only going to make it worse. They’re as good as gone, darling.”

“B-But—” you sniffled, and Tommy shook his head.

“You have to let it go,” He told you firmly. “Come back to bed, you don’t have to be awake for hours.”

“Oh, Tommy,” you sighed, shuffling back up to bed. Your joints hurt from sitting on the floor practically all night, and your vision watered up as you watched Tommy gather up the album and photograph scraps and set them back in his wardrobe. “What am I going to do? All of my favorite memories are lost.”

“You still have the memories in your head, love,” Tommy told you, sitting next to you. You leaned into him and pressed your cheek to his warm chest, and you sniffled as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“I just…” you mumbled. “Our wedding pictures is the thing I’m most upset about. We were so young, and that was before everything went to shit, and we were so happy…”

“We’re still happy,” Tommy assured you. “We’re happier now, because we have Thomasine. We’re a complete family now.”

“You know what I mean,” you said. “We were poor kids, and-and looking at those pictures gave me hope that you’d come home when you were in France. They were my lifeline for a long time, and to have them ruined like this…”

Tommy’s lips formed into a thin line, and he rubbed your back comfortingly as you finally laid down and tried to settle into sleep. Your sleep was thin, hardly even deep enough to call proper sleep, but you finally woke up and got out of bed when you heard shouting down in the bottom of the house. You were used to that, but you still felt like you ought to make sure everything was alright, so you pulled yourself from bed and went about groggily getting ready for the day, slipping on a dress and spraying on perfume before descending the stairs.

The noise seemed to be coming from the back room, the ruined betting room, and you carefully pushed back the plush curtains and opened the doors to see a sight. Your eyes first landed on your husband, dressed in his old uniform. It certainly looked too small for him, tugging a little at his chest, but you clenched your teeth together at the sight. How long has it been since you saw him in the pea-soup-green uniform? Five years, at least. “Tommy,” you said softly. You couldn’t help yourself from stepping closer to him as his head snapped to look at you, and his hard gaze softened in the way it always did when he saw you. He never subjected you to his steely gaze, and, whenever you saw it, it always reminded you of what a feared man he was.

“Fuck, love, what’re you doing down here?” Tommy asked. “You’re supposed to be asleep still.”

“Heard shouting,” you said softly. The other men were bustling around the room as you smoothed your hands up Tommy’s chest, and your eyes went all watery again. “This isn’t happening, please, no.”

“What’s wrong?” Tommy asked. “Talk to me, darling, what’s the matter?”

“How long have you known?” you asked, sniffling. “Leaving us like this, how could you?”

“What?”

“The uniform, Tommy!” you cried. “You’re being called to the war again, why else would you have this shit on?”

Tommy grabbed your cheeks and kissed your forehead, and he angled your head to the side. Arthur stood there, behind a massive camera, angled at a blank space on the wall, and your breath caught in your throat. “What is this?” you asked.

“I’m not being called back,” Tommy explained. “I got to thinking about our wedding pictures, and I went to see the photographer who made them. He said the film was too old and that they couldn’t make you new copies, so the next best thing was to retake them.”

“Oh?” you asked. You sniffled and wiped your nose, and you gently reached out to touch the camera. “We… We’re retaking our wedding pictures?”

“With a few adjustments,” Tommy said. “Back then, I couldn’t afford to even get you so much as a bouquet, but now… Well, I took your measurements to a dress shop, and even though the dress was pre-made and only adjusted to you…”

“Tommy?” you whimpered.

“I got you a wedding dress, love,” Tommy told you. “Better than the flour-bag Sunday best that you had on.”

You gasped, covering your mouth with your hands, and you sobbed once before flying to your husband and crushing him in a hug. “Oh, Tommy!” you cried. “Thank you! Can I see it?”

“Pol’s got it in the kitchen,” Tommy told you. “Go put it on, why don’t you let me see it?”

The dress was beautiful. Eggshell-colored silk that fell below your knees with long sleeves and deep neckline, very fashionable and pretty, and it fit you like a glove as Polly helped you into it. She primped you a little, fixing your hair and patting red rouge onto your lips, and she upturned a vase next to the stove and handed you the bouquet of wildflowers that Thomasine had picked a few days earlier. You felt timid and almost nervous as Polly escorted you back to the betting room, and you cleared your throat once you passed the threshold, afraid that, if you spoke, your voice would give up on you.

Tommy looked to you in an instant, and he gave you a small smile as he stepped towards you. “Aren’t you a sight?” he said in his rumbling timbre, putting his hands on your hips, and he kissed your lips for a moment before he added, “Thomasine might get a brother before the day’s over, if you keep looking that beautiful.”

“Oh, shut up,” you giggled, and he steered you in front of the camera as you smoothed down your dress. You were suddenly nervous, and you clutched Tommy’s hand as Arthur cranked the camera, preparing it to go off. “Tom?”

“M’right here, pet,” Tommy said, squeezing your hand. “Just smile; everything will be fine.”

By the time night fell, you had a whole slew of new film, new pictures to replace the ruined ones. Recreations of your wedding pictures, an updated picture of a smiling Thomasine, even one of Tommy kissing you when the camera went off on accident. Thomasine was tangled in your skirts then, gazing up at her daddy, and you looked at the film as you sat by the fire that night, smiling and admiring it. That was your favorite memory; you, your husband, and your daughter, smiling, laughing, loving. It was perfect.

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #peaky blinders fanfic #cillian murphy x reader #cillain murphy x you

[pacifymebby]

Mmm those pb cuddle thots were so good!! If you aren’t too busy with requests would you be able to fit in a dark!peaky blinders x reader who’s been spending time with a childhood friend and the men get a bit territorial? Maybe the reader tries to explain the situation but is just completely shut down? Thanks a lot xoxo

Disclaimer: characters are dark! On purpose etc, the hc's might be upsetting/disturbing. Definitely abusive relationships.

Tommy

🌿 Naively, and in your rush of excitement at having discovered your childhood friend survived the war, you tell Tommy about your old friend.

🌿There is also a little part of you that wants to test the waters, to perhaps force the sometimes cold Tommy Shelby into showing you more affection by showing him that you have potential other options...

🌿This is of course a big mistake, huge. If you weren't aware quite how obsessive and possessive your Tommy is over you then it's only because he's been trying very hard to keep his darkness hidden. He didn't want to scare you off, not too soon.

🌿 But now you've spent almost every evening this week "catching up" with your old childhood friend and Tommy's head is spinning with paranoid thoughts he just can't ignore or swallow down any longer.

🌿 But he's far too smart to lash out, too smart to take his paranoia out on you... he knows why you're doing it. He knows you're trying to make him jealous and to him that's a very good thing indeed because if you're trying to make him jealous that means you want him. It means you'd still choose him over your old friend in a heartbeat...

🌿 Still, best to make sure you never have to make that choice.

🌿 He definitely spies on you. Ever since you met Tommy you've felt as though you're never quite completely alone. Even at night when you're asleep in your bed. You always feel as though someone's watching you. You've always convinced yourself it's Tommy "watching over you" like your guardian angel. Now however the feeling has intensified. Ever since you mentioned your friend you've felt almost claustrophobic whenever you've been out with your childhood friend.

🌿 and that's because you've never once been alone with your childhood friend. Tommy's always been somewhere near by, keeping tabs on you. He would tell you it was for your own protection, would tell you it was because he couldn't live with himself if something happened to you because he wasn't there for you...

🌿 But if that's true its only half the story. The main reason he's been following your childhood friend is to try and deduce this mans motive. Tommy is deeply suspicious, no man would ever spend this much time with a woman he didn't have intentions on... Tommy is absolutely convinced that your childhood friend wants to be more than friends.

🌿 He gets so quietly angry about this, he feels deeply wounded inside that the world would deal him this potential betrayal, but if the devil works hard, Tommy Shelby works harder...

🌿 He considers killing your friend in cold blood. Decides this would be too messy, too risky... It would break your heart and you'd certainly hate and fear Tommy more than he could stand... Then he considers the many different "tragic accidents" that could wipe your childhood friend off the face of this earth... A sudden and untimely death however could potentially seal this old friend inside your heart forever, perhaps not all of your heart, but a part of it could end up devoted to the memory of what could have been. It could leave you questioning your whole life, could mean you drift away from Tommy in your heartbreak instead of closer to him... And even if you didn't drift away, even if you came back to him twice as devoted and adoring as before, he could never be quite sure that you weren't still thinking fondly of your untainted childhood friend who came back for a moment from the war.

🌿 No, the only thing that will settle Tommy's crazed mind is to hear you say you hate your friend, to see the betrayal in your eyes, to see you realise that the only person you can trust is Tommy. The only person in the world it's safe to put your heart into is Tommy.

🌿 So rather than kill your friend himself or see him taken care of another way, Tommy sets about devising an intricate plot, which plays out like his own personally constructed soap opera.

🌿 First he plants the seeds of doubt, rumours which spread through the market and around the pubs, about the long lost soldier who has recently returned from the dead, about the atrocities he committed during the war... The people he killed - not just the enemy but women, children... The violent and sadistic things he did to the women unfortunate enough to cross his cursed path.

🌿 Then he starts leaving you alone with your friend, that claustrophobic feeling disappears but you don't feel relieved. You feel scared. You feel increasingly nervous in the presence of your friend who's every intimate move - a hand on your hand perhaps - feels like a warning, like a threat...

🌿 Then Tommy escalates things, the rumours get more detailed, he goes, worried, to one of your friends, tells her he's heard all these terrible things about your friend, that you've spent so much time with this dark stranger and he's worried about your safety... He'd tell her that he's scared to talk to you about it himself because he doesn't want to come off the way some men do... Paranoid and possessive. He respects your freedom...

🌿 So it's your friend who begs you not to spend anymore time with your old friend, and when she retells of all Tommy's fears your heart is not only touched that your man cares so much, but so so relieved because for days now you've been nothing but desperate for someone to save you from your friend, because the rumours have finally gotten to your head and you're convinced that your friend is going to do something terrible one of these days.

🌿 Your running back to Tommy however isn't quite enough to reassure him. He also goads your friend into attacking him, somewhere in public so that everyone sees the insane act of paranoid violence against him. Your childhood friend is dragged practically foaming at the mouth away from Tommy, shouting about how Tommy wants to hurt you, how Tommy is insane, evil in fact.

🌿 Tommy has to fight to keep the smirk off his face as he watches your friend dragged out of the Garrison and thrown in all him shame out into the street.

🌿 All the while youre clinging onto Tommy, your arms thrown around him, tears in your eyes because you could have lost him.

Alfie

🐻 Before Alfie ever actually spoke to you himself he researched you thoroughly. It took him a couple of weeks to trace your family tree, know your life story, even the intricate details and the secrets you believed yourself to be taking to the grave.

🐻 And so he knows about your childhood best friend. Actually he knows everything about the man who used to walk you to and from school every morning like a nauseating little lap dog...

🐻 Only one person's ever doted on you more than that lad and it's Alfie... so when he hears you mention the name of this old friend he feels sick.

🐻 This man is younger than Alfie, he's softer, better looking than Alfie, healthier than Alfie, he's been in your life so much longer than Alfie...

🐻 And because Alfie feels threatened as he does by this old friend, that darkness he's always trying to hide from you, takes over, like storm clouds passing over slowly. His paranoia and his need to possess you completely spreads it's roots even deeper inside him until he can't ignore the feverous certainty that you are in grave danger...

🐻 In Alfie's mind he is the only man who can protect you from the evils of the world, he genuinely believes that if you leave his side you will die, that something terrible and tragic will happen to you, a grave curse only he can save you from.

🐻 And this old friend could end up being the reason you leave him, therefore this old friend, as far as Alfie is concerned, is going to kill you.

🐻And Alfie only has one way of dealing with people who threaten his little ziskeit...

🐻 However Alfie knows that if he kills him in front of you you'll be devastated, maybe even sympathetic to this undeserving intruder, so he devises a plot to get the three of you together...

🐻 Alfie uses his men from the bakery to spread word around Camden that he's looking for a wanted man, your childhood friend because this lowlife outsider has designs on Alfie's girl... Let's the whole town know exactly what he wants to do to this cunt when he gets his hands on him...

🐻 He's trying to lure your friend out, trying to scare your friend in exactly the right way - because he knows your old friend better than you do and he knows exactly how to goad him into a fight... A fight he just won't win.

🐻 Alfie makes sure that when the confrontation happens you're there with him, that when your friend sees Alfie and immediately bites, crazed by his fear of the gangster and the rumours he's heard, you are there to witness everything which goes down.

🐻 And it all plays out exactly as Alfie planned... Alfie ever calm and apparently innocent, your childhood friend practically rabid, violent and threatening in his panic.

🐻 So certain that the situation is kill or be killed your childhood friend will race to draw a weapon first, previously a pacifist your friend had bought a gun to protect himself when he heard what Alfie was planning...

🐻 So he draws his weapon, terrifying you... You scream, grasping for his arm begging him not to shoot Alfie... Alfie remains calm, "Now what on earths possessed you to get that out eh?"

🐻 "You!" Your friend is practically panting, his adrenaline shaking his whole body, there's tears in his eyes... It's the most pathetic sight Alfie's ever seen. You're still petrified that something awful is going to happen, you know Alfie doesn't take threats lightly so you're begging your friend to put the gun away, begging Alfie not to react...

🐻 Your friend starts growling and stuttering out his words, "I know what you want! I know what you're here for! I ain't goin down without a fight... I'm a fuckin man aren't I..."

🐻 "A fight?" Gasps Alfie, "you think I wanna fight you? Sunshine I don't even fuckin know you..."

🐻 "You think I want y/n, you think I'm gonna steal her away..." he carries on but Alfie just shakes his head and tells you to stop crying, that everything's going to be alright, that your friend isn't going to do anything... "Are you mate?"

🐻 Your friends arm is shaking as he continues holding the gun out threatening Alfie... And Alfie wants nothing more than to put a bullet through the stupid cunts face but he knows that in the long run, patience and mercy will be worth the sacrifice of blood thirsty satisfaction.

🐻 "Now listen here mate, I don't know whats possessin you right, some malady or demonic force I imagine yeah, but I promise you right, hand on heart that I don't know you yeah... But clearly right, clearly you are a friend of my dear y/n right, and as you can see your gun yeah, and well you as a matter of fact, are fuckin terrifyin her ain't you... My poor girls sobbing her heart out because of you right and I don't like that, I'm sure you don't like it either do you mate... So, why don't you put the gun down yeah, take a couple deep breaths yeah..."

🐻 But your friends heard about Alfie's double crossing ways and this apparent kindness only spooks him more, now he's more convinced than ever that Alfie is going to kill him... In his desperation he shoves you forward towards Alfie so that you go stumbling into him, if it wasn't for Alfie catching you you'd have fallen to the ground in a heap...

🐻 But Alfie wraps an arm around you protectively, tucks you under his coat and soothes you gently. All the while your friend is denouncing you as his friend, "I don't want her Alfie I promise, whatever you've heard it ain't true she don't mean anything to me, nothin I promise..."

🐻 hearing all this breaks your heart, you're sobbing into Alfie's shirt whilst Alfie reassures you not to listen to your friend, that he's clearly having some kind of episode, that no one in their right mind would say those things about you, especially not to him.

🐻 And then Alfie does what no one would expect him to, he shows the man mercy. "Now like I said yeah, you are clearly very dear to my y/n and I can see yeah that you are clearly experiencing high levels of severe distress so, I'm gonna forgive you yeah, as long as you put that gun away now and stop waving it at me and my y/n, I'm gonna forgive you for threatening me just now, for wanting to kill me right... And I don't know what you've heard about me mate but I reckon you know forgiveness ain't usually my strong point so... Id put that gun away now if I were you and I'd say thank you too..."

🐻 When your friend flees Alfie is left to do exactly what he'd hoped, to pick up the pieces of your broken heart, to soothe and comfort you, he takes you home, holds you in his arms all night and reassures you over and over that he will always care about, always treasure and love you...

🐻 in a few months time your old friend will have been found to have killed himself, and although you'll be heartbroken, Alfie will be there to comfort you and ultimately his plan will succeed because you'll be driven closer to him, more dependent on him than ever.

Arthur

🍂 You know about Arthur's temper and you know he can be a little quick to jump to conclusions so, when your old friend comes back to Birmingham you know to keep your meetings to yourself.

🍂 You don't want to make Arthur jealous because you know he's already jealous of every man who so much as looks at you...

🍂 But it's impossible to keep secrets from Arthur without keeping them from everyone else too and in Small Heath it's impossible for a Blinder's girl to go anywhere without being seen by every man and his bloody dog... the women at the market gossip and every house has eyes always watching you... and absolutely no one in Small Heath would be stupid enough to keep a secret from Arthur.

🍂 So it doesn't take long for him to find out. A young blinder tells him that he's seen you out walking with a stranger, a man around your age that they don't recognise...

🍂 Arthur will be a deadly combination of humiliated (because a young, practically nothing blinder has delivered news of his girls betrayal) confused (because he thought you only had eyes for him, thought you were in love, that you needed him) and angry, with you, with himself and with the stranger..

🍂 He'd grab the young lad by the scruff of his shirt, already beginning to lose his mind "Where, where the fuck did you see her? You're fuckin wrong she wouldn't do that to me!"

🍂 He'd want desperately to deny the fact, want madly for it all to be a misunderstanding but he isn't trusting and he knows deep in his heart that this stranger is trying to steal you away from him. That he has to get rid of him before it's too late...

🍂 He's so hurt too, deeply wounded because he very easily believes that you've betrayed him, that you're plotting to run away from him, that all this time you've been lying to him, that you've made a fool of him, that you think he's a useless idiot...

🍂 And of course none of it is really true. The stranger is just an old friend you wanted to catch up with, he's nothing to you and doesn't compare to your Arthur in the slightest... That's why you hadn't bothered to mention your meeting to Arthur, because you didn't want him to end up wound up over something that means nothing...

🍂 When Arthur finds out where you are there's no stopping him. He storms through town, his head spinning with wild jealous thoughts. By the time he gets to you he's red in the face, veins bulging in his temple, he can barely see for the red he's seeing. He's shaking with rage...

🍂 And he walks into the little cafe on the river bank at the wrong moment, just in time to see your friend reach to take your hand. Now if he'd waited just a moment longer Arthur would have seen you remove their hand from yours, would have seen you smile politely and reject their advances.

🍂 But he didn't wait, instead propelling himself forward at such a pace that the force with which he knocked into your friend was enough to topple the chair he was sitting in and send the two tumbling to the floor in a wild heap, a tangle of arms and legs as Arthur begins to beat the life out of your friend.

🍂 He's like a wild animal, his brain a haze of red, completely out of control. He barely even knows what he's doing himself, only that he can't stop. Only that he doesn't want to stop.

🍂 Your friends long dead when Arthur is dragged off him by his brothers who just didn't get their in time. You're on the floor at your friends side, sobbing your heart out, and when John comes to your side, his hand on your back to try and soothe you he realises you've slipped into a strange state of shock. Only half there as you stand with him and let him take you home.

🍂 When Arthur realises what he's done he's devastate, not exactly for having murdered your friend but for having lost control in front of you the way that he did. You're terrified of him now, his brothers keep telling him to leave you for a little while, to give you time to understand what happened, to grieve, but Arthur can't leave you alone...

🍂 He keeps knocking on your door begging you to let him in and in the end you do, not because you're ready to forgive him but because despite everything you still care about him, he's just a human after all, and you know he means it when he says he's nothing left to live for if you won't see him. That if you don't let him in he'll throw himself in the cut like his mother.

🍂 So you let him in and when you see what a state he's in, how hollowed out he looks, how ghostly and unwell he appears your heart breaks for him. When it comes to Arthur you've always stuck around because you were sure you could fix him, that all he really needs is a gentle woman who he can trust, who can show him forgiveness. You know you'd be letting yourself down, betraying yourself if you refused him now.

🍂 So despite everything you devote yourself to him even more. You won't make the mistake of keeping secrets from him again.

John

🌼 You and John have been friends since you were children and he's always been proud of that. Of being the man who's known you the longest, who knows you best. You grew up together, it was always you and him against the room...

🌼 Except this isn't exactly true, John's edited the truth, warped his memories to suit his delusions and your childhood as you rember it is a little different. You were a popular girl, popular with the boys too and John was not your only friend, you had another. One you thought had died in the war, one who, when you find out is still alive, you're giddy with happiness.

🌼 You tell John, elated as you are, expecting him to be happy too, expecting him to be just as thrilled as you are but when you tell him the smile he offers you doesn't reach his eyes and you're confused.

🌼See there's a reason you believed your friend to be dead and that reason is John. Its just one of many little "white" lies he's told you over the years to keep you from thinking of anyone but him.

🌼 So John's quietly furious you've discovered that your friend is alive, he'd always known this old friend was a threat, he's resented him since childhood because he's always been "in the way" and just when John thought things were finally going along roses with you and him this friend has returned to drive a wedge between the two of you once again.

🌼 John knows what he should do, he should be outwardly happy, he should be happy that you're happy and he should be behaving as though he too is over the moon to find the friend he thought dead is really still living. He should be looking forward to the inevitable reunion.

🌼But he isn't, he's absolutely dreading it, every time he thinks of the prospect of watching you throw your arms around your old friend he starts dry heaving, a deep and crazed panic gripping him. Dark John is deeply insecure and he knows that good girls like you don't stay with evil men like him, men who will ultimately destroy you...

🌼 But he won't let you go and as the day draws nearer and nearer that the two of you will be reunited with your old childhood friend John's thoughts grow darker and darker, ever despairing. The dream world he constructed for the two of you, in which it had only ever been him and you, together until the end, the only two people in the world, this world is falling apart piece by piece. His whole reality, warped as it may have been is being threatened and he feels himself coming apart at the seems.

🌼All those false memories he constructed, the time He rescued you from those bullies in the school playground, the day he taught you how to skim pebbles... he's being forced to remember the true memories, the memories in which that old friend got inbetween you, taking the stone from John's hand to show you how to do it right, pulling John from the fight to play the chivalrous pacifist...

🌼 John can hardly sleep, he feels like half of himself has been ripped from the other and he can't stand the pain...

🌼 So he goes crazy and one day you come home from town to find him waiting for you at the kitchen table, his gun in his hands. When he points it at you, tells you he can't live to lose you, can't let you love anyone else, you don't know what to do...

🌼 You're stunned, you'd never expected him to be this kind of despairing, this kind of heartbroken but you can see in his bloodshot teary eyes that he means it and you're really not sure you're going to live to see another sunrise...

Bonnie

🍀Bonnie's whole world revolves around you, you are the reason he gets up in the morning and the reason he sleeps comfortably every night. He adores you and it's been this way ever since he first laid eyes on you. He's planned his whole life around you and every night he lies in bed imagining your future together. All the children he's going to give you, your wedding day, how he's going to be the most devoted husband...

🍀Nothing else in the world has ever given him more joy or hope... you're even the reason he wants to be a successful boxer, why he's so determined to be the champion of the world one day... not just to impress you but to ensure he's able to dote on you the way you deserve

🍀But, because he's so completely devoted to you, his obsession with you leads to some pretty deep insecurities... he's terrified of losing you, terrified that you won't want him, won't see him as good enough...

🍀So when a new family joins your travelling convoy and Bonnie finds that you and one lad from this new family go back years, longer than you and Bonnie, his heart breaks.

🍀He immediately assumes that this is the end of your relationship, that if you don't already you're going to end up loving this boy more than you love Bonnie...

🍀He doesn't stick around to watch your reunion, he takes himself off on his own, into the woods so that he can cry his eyes out angry, heartbroken tears with no one to hear him. He knows he can't let you or anyone else see how upset he is because he knows it looks pathetic.

🍀It isn't actually in Bonnie's nature to be manipulative in the way someone like Tommy or Alfie is manipulative, he just isn't as clever, doesn't think so complexly about things... So Bonnie is at a total loss for what to do. He feels hopeless...

🍀But he knows he can't lose you, he knows that he won't be able to live with himself if he loses you, won't be able to live without you...

🍀So he returns from the woods once he's calmed down, presents you with a gift, a beautifully carved pendant which Bonnie made whilst he was away, he's stained the back of the charm with blood from the palm of his hand, "so that you'll always have a part of me with you..." You think it's a little intense but that's what your Bonnie is like, when he locks eyes with you you can see how deep his emotions run, how wildly his feelings rage inside him. That's why you love him, because he's vulnerable, because he's honest... Because no one's ever loved you so dramatically before.

🍀He feels better when he sees that you wear your pendant all the time, when you tell him that you even sleep in it... But this doesn't stop his jealousy and insecurity niggling away at his sanity... He can't hide how it upsets him when you choose to spend your day with your old friend and not with Bonnie

🍀He feels like you're slipping away from him, feels like he's being forced to share you and he doesn't like it. He gets teary eyed whenever you tell him you've been out with your friend, he struggles to swallow around the lump in his throat whenever he sees you laughing at one of your friends jokes. This is the most painful experience of Bonnie's life and he'd rather get knocked down in the ring every day for the rest of his life than have to watch you twirling your hair round your finger whilst you talk with this other friend...

🍀This makes him so much more possessive over you, he's constantly glued to you, always showering you in affection, always holding your hand or pulling you into his lap. He makes a show of picking you up and carrying you off when he thinks you've spent enough time talking to your friend. Definitely likes to snog you in front of your friend just to prove to himself that you're still his.

🍀Starts to fixate on getting rid of your old friend, instead of imagining that peaceful and happy future with you he now imagines tragic accidents which your friend could suffer, he imagines your friends family being driven away by some outside force

🍀 Bonnie wants your old friend gone but he doesn't want to do it himself, for now he manages to convince himself that his obsession with you is nothing unusual, that he's still completely sane... He knows that if he starts letting his mind wander towards thoughts of murder he might never come back from the dark, might lose himself to his obsession and lose you in the process.

🍀He will constantly be reminding you that it's "you an me against the world little dove," "can't trust nobody else, you and me against the world now and to the end of our days..."

🍀He has so much pent up anger that he's trying to swallow down, so much hatred and resentment for this intruder, that it's beginning to effect his fights... He can't concentrate anymore once he's in the ring, the hatred takes over and he sees red, he can't throw fights properly anymore because he's lost control. This starts to piss Tommy and Arthur off... Which leads to questions...

🍀Which leads to a strained but emotional confession, when he tries to pass it off as nothing, "some stupid bastards been gettin too close to my lass..." he receives some flippant advice which Bonnie takes a little too literally. "Well y'know what y'need to do then lad... Knock her up, put a ring on her finger so she ain't goin nowhere..."

🍀 Which is what he becomes determined to do... Brace yourself for some deeply passionate breeding because Bonnie isn't going to stop until he's given you more children than you can count on your hand.

🍀Ironically this is what you've wanted the whole time, your old childhood friend is nothing in comparison to Bonnie and you can't even begin to understand why Bonnie feels threatened. You're actually always trying to reassure him of this, always telling him how much you love him, there's just something about Bonnie though, he doesn't seem satisfied until he's buried inside you, you clinging onto him for dear life.

Isaiah

🐀Isaiah hates your friend from the second he's introduced to him. He doesn't like the way your friend looks at him, he doesn't like the way your friend looks at you, or the way he talks to you, or the way he dances with you... Isaiah hates everything about him and he makes no secret of that because he doesn't play the long game. Doesn't think about the consequences of his actions.

🐀He's so rude to this man, only ever gives him short disinterested answers in conversation, ignores him 90% of the time, pretends not to see him and accidentally bumps into him spilling some of his drink on your friends shirt.

🐀He's playing the intimidation game from the get go and is hellbent on making your friend feel as unwelcome and as uncomfortable as possible.

🐀 Whenever you get particularly upset about Isaiah's behaviour and question it he always has an answer for you. "Know you're too sweet to see it mousy but that friend of yours ain't really a friend... I know right cause I know how men think, I know what he really wants from you my pretty girl and it's disgusting..."

🐀 "Why does it matter, I don't want those things from him... I'm not interested like that... Obviously, and he knows that I'm with you, so he won't..." "That don't stop men like him darlin, you've gotta be careful, s'alright I'll make sure you're never left alone with him..."

🐀 And he keeps that promise devotionally. From the day that old friend turns up in town Isaiah is by your side constantly, you're never alone, your friend never really has an opportunity to talk to you or spend real time with you, not without Isaiah lurking like a raincloud near by, warning your friend off silently.

🐀"Fuckin hate that smug cunt bastard..." Is what Isaiah says to Michael the night your old childhood friend walks into the Garrison. Isaiah actually can't believe he's been stupid enough to come round here without you... but he has and Isaiah is more than pleased to finally have an opportunity to show the stupid prick how he really feels about him...

🐀 He's practically electric with excitement as he strolls up to the bar, stopping just behind your old friend, barely saying a word to the unsuspecting prick with the stupid fucking grin on his face before landing a sharp blow to his eye.

🐀 And once he's started it feels so good he doesn't want to stop...

🐀 And he doesn't kill him, he does something some would say is much worse... When his brain finally clears a little, just enough to start thinking about what he's doing he realises that the whole attack could earn your friend a whole lot of sympathy from you so

🐀 He stops, and just when your friends let out a sigh of relief Isaiah takes his peaky cap from his cap, takes the blade out and uses it, not to blind him but to castrate the man and cut his cock off. It's a bloody scene and Isaiah is only glad you aren't here to witness the mess he's made, but he knows that emasculating the bastard was the only way to stop you from ever falling for his charm. Isaiahs happy he's made him ugly enough that to look at him will give you nightmares.

🐀 Now after an experience like that your friend doesn't stick around, he leaves town as soon as he can, and he leaves town too humiliated to explain his departure to you...

🐀and you hear things through the rumour mill about what really happened that night at the Garrison but you can't bring yourself tj believe it. Not when Isaiah has always been so charming and good to you, so sweet...

🐀 And of course after the incident Isaiah made much more of an effort to layer the tenderness and affection on thick with you, he's been ever so sweet, spent so much time with you, hardly ever lets you out of his sight, or reach...

🐀 And you don't really want to ask him if it's true, it would feel cruel, asking someone as loving and sweet as Isaiah if he butchered someone and left them for dead... So you're always left wondering, a tiny doubt in your mind always questioning what really happened to your friend.

🐀But Isaiah knows what happened to him because he had Bonnie trail him for several weeks to find out exactly where he fled to, to threaten him once more so that he'd stay quiet. Isaiah doesn't need the police turning up on your door, and he certainly doesn't need your friend ever returning... Not that he'll last long if he does.

Michael

☘️ Doesnt think twice, he has your friend killed the very day that you first mention him.

☘️Michael isn't going to take risks, not when it comes to you and although he knows he's rich enough, good looking enough to keep you happy, he's always worried that someone else might catch your eye...

☘️ And an old childhood friend, someone who's got all that history with you, someone you knew before you knew Michael, someone who could remind you what life before Michael and all his rules, all his possessive demands and paranoia was like, well... Michael can't risk anyone breaking the harmony you live in because he understands what a fine balance it is...

☘️ So, when you show him a letter from your friend at breakfast Michael begins making plans. He memorises the address on the letter and goes off to work having given you a deeper, more passionate kiss than usual. He also lies to you about how he needs you to stay home today, to keep yourself hidden inside the house where it's safe because there's something dangerous going on with Tommy and his cousins that he's worried you'll get wrapped up in...

☘️ And because he has you wrapped around his little finger you believe him, you do exactly as he says, you close all the curtains and keep yourself hidden away from the world for the day, locked up in your house exactly where he wants you to stay. If anyone knocks the door you pretend not to be home... The only person who sees you and you see all day is Michael. Which is the way he would keep things permanently if he could...

☘️ You're worried about him, worried what could be happening to him at work, whether someone threatening him, whether he's going to make it home to you alive, and you're feeling so lucky that you have him, that he's always there working to protect you and keep you safe, so you spend all day baking a delicious apple pie for him when he gets home...

☘️Michael really didn't need to worry about your friend, if he'd asked you not to see him you probably would have done as he told you because he has the wool thick and firm over your eyes, you're as deluded about Michael as he is about you.

☘️When he returns home he's got blood on his shirt and you rush to check him for injuries, ever the doting little lamb, you help bathe him and you help get rid of the shirt which is stained. Michael notices how you even get a little teary eyed when you tell him how you were so worried all day, when you tell him how much you love him.

☘️"Don't know how I'd live you Michael," "You wouldn't love, you know that..."

☘️ You help dress him, kissing his chest as you button his shirt, kissing his neck as you straighten his collar, you're so blindly in love with you and Michael can't help smirk as your lips on his body remind him of the brutal act he committed only hours before. How he stabbed your friend in the heart, how he slit his throat...

☘️But you're blissfully unaware and that night you can't stop gazing lovingly across the table at your hero and protector as he tucks into the pie you baked especially for him.

☘️ But this whole threat has certainly shaken Michael, warned him that there are threats he needs to anticipate in future, things he needs to make sure he doesn't have to worry about...

☘️ So he turns the adoration up a notch, spoils you with even more fancy gifts, pieces of exquisite jewelry, gorgeous silk dresses, lingerie he dresses you up in and calls you all sorts of adoring names, he makes extra time to spend with you...

☘️ And of course he realises that now is the time to propose to you, a gorgeous diamond ring to slip onto your finger and show everyone that you're his now and forever, so that any potential threats are scared away, know that they could never offer you the wealth and luxury that Michael does.

☘️ But you only have eyes for Michael, and he's got you wrapped so tightly round his finger that he's all you ever think about, when you look up at him it's like your brain turns to cotton wool. You're completely devoted to him.

☘️ So when you read about the brutal attack on your old friend, when you read when it happened, you don't even make the connection, don't even remember that that was the very same day you read your letter to Michael, that that was the day Michael came home covered in blood... You're sad about your friend but never once does it occur to you that your great hero could have had anything to do with it.

Sorry these took so long, they were really fun to write though forgot how fun writing insane people is!!!!

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#peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders imagines #bonnie gold x reader #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby x reader #arthur shelby x reader #john shelby x reader #peaky blinders headcanon #dark! peaky blinders #dark tommy shelby