#with a person she really liked clouded her mind to the reality of her situation until it was too late 😭

[socialbunny]

love how right after having beau, brandi and skip got pregnant got AGAIN and he straight up died right after 🙄 hes so fake for that

#chat #brandi i could treat u betterrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr #IK SIMS TIME IS FASTER BUT ITS SO. #THEY NEED TO STOP FUCKIN OR WRAP IT UP FR. #well i mean. not now. bc hes not around BUT. #i think brandi loves her children sooo much but if she could go back she wouldnt have kids so early. #i think shes one of those girls whos always wanted to have a family/baby since she was young and getting pregnant at such a young age + #with a person she really liked clouded her mind to the reality of her situation until it was too late 😭 #i also think her being an only child really added to wanting to have a baby bc even tho i feel she was popular in school and had a lot of #friends at one point i think shes one of those ppl that really wanted to have a sister lmao #skippy #brandi boo

[dutchdread]

Ouch, that's gotta hurt.

Watching Cleriths celebrate NPTK these past weeks, knowing they'll, as always, be proven incorrect has been an exercise in patience. Sometimes it's just clear that you won't be able to convince people of a complex truth when so often discourse is limited to 280 characters. The reason Clerith exists is that people are unable to see the big picture, it survives by people squinting and not seeing the "but" that's located right after every piece of evidence they put forward. This means that you'll often be perceived to be arguing against what is to them the blatantly obvious. It's futile, nuanced argument never wins from emotion, so often you just have to take solace in the idea that "well, it will be fun to see their surprise 4 years from now". So when you get an interview like this, mere weeks after the game releases, which confirms everything that Clotis had been saying about, and had been mocked for, NPTK, you can't help feel a sense of schadenfreude.

Man that's gotta hurt. This is the difference between Clotis and Cleriths. Cleriths don't really like Aerith, because they want to assassinate her character. Rather than a sad tragic tale of a lifetime of love and loss they want to reduce her character to a shallow cliche rom-com about a capricious girl whose fickle affections change by the hour. The fact that the first person Aerith starts developing feelings for after 5 years of pining after Zack is a man who is almost literally channeling Zack becomes a meaningless coincidence in the story. The fact that she knows Cloud for 2 weeks, most of which is also spent pining over Zack is viewed as confirmation of how special their love is. It doesn't matter that Aerith doesn't even know who Cloud is. It doesn't matter that Cloud is shown to very obviously be in love with another woman. It doesn't matter that Cloud is clearly losing his mind. It doesn't matter that Cloud is constantly show as being apathetic towards her advancements. Even them fighting is recontextualized as "good chemistry" just to avoid facing reality. Usually nonsensical romances are seen as bad-writing, but here the cope makes people excuse all the nonsense as "how brilliantly written is this story? They love each other despite it making no sense, now THAT is romance". Zack is called irrelevant, CC is a "ret-con" and can be ignored, ACC is about how romantic it is to want to die to be with someone. The reason Zack is so predominant in Rebirth is in no way connected to Aerith yearning for exactly the bond he's constantly showing to have with her. The contrast with Clouds apathy means nothing, he definitely isn't there to have some sort of pay-off with Aerith in part 3. Nah, he's just there to give Cloud and Aerith his blessing and to F-off. The reason Tifa is silent and heartbroken at the end has nothing to do with her best friend dying and the man she loves losing his mind. The distance between her and Cloud at that moment is totally not used to illustrate the severity of the situation, or to set-up Tifas importance in the events for part 3. Nah, she doesn't get lines because she's just a side character duh!. That is how they think, every single character and story is assassinated, everything happens only to service Cloud and Aeriths romance, even Cloud and Aerith themselves are pushed through the mud. Screw the death of Ifalna, screw the death of Zack, screw the complexity surrounding Clouds Zack shaped psychology, screw Aeriths childhood and desire for real bonds of friendship, screw even the story of Aerith dying and how maybe, JUST MAYBE, the scenes surrounding Aeriths death have SOMETHING to do with the strong emotions surrounding death rather than just being "a cute romance scene uwu". Never have I seen any story interpretation reveal such rampant hatred for a character as Cleriths reveal for Aerith. To them, Aerith is totally the kind of person who would bond with Tifa, hear the very personal and intimate story about the promise shared between her and Cloud, hear that Cloud thinks that Zack is dead, and not 5 minutes later write a story about how "she loves Cloud and they wouldn't need no promises like that other girl". But sure, I'm the one who hates Aerith, not the people who think this is who she is, but me, the person who assumed she'd be less vile than that and that any song she'd write would encompass more than that. I stand up for her character and get mocked, called an Aerith hater, and called "toxic"....and then you get an interview like this. God it feels good to always have all your positions validated by future content. One has to wonder if the people still arguing for Clerith ever sit back and think "wait, the last 100 times I dismissed these peoples arguments I was proven wrong almost immediately, I am constantly having to shift my goalposts while they're just happily sitting there laughing as they consume media about Cloud kissing Tifa, or proclaiming to become her special existence....maybe I am the delusional one...." God I can't wait for part 3, it will be hilarious.

#cloti #ffvii #ffvii rebirth #ffvii remake #cloud strife #tifa lockhart #aerith gainsborough #ff7 #shipping

[justmeinadaze]

Ghost in the Machine Part 3 (Eddie X You)

Warnings: Rockstar Dom Daddy Eddie X Sub Stripper Fem reader, SMUT, dirty talk, slight choking, edging, and everything in-between, FLUFF (he genuinely likes her), ANGST, reader sees something in the tabloids that makes her jealous, someone does break into her house and she gets hurt (aftermath mentioned), Eddie talks about his childhood with his abusive dad, Y/N talks about her abuse (mentions of stepdad harassing her and previous domestic abuse).

Eddie texts reader; dialogue in red

Word Count: 6120

When you woke up the next morning, Eddie was already gone. You found a note on your nightstand, however, with some $100 bills wrapped inside. 

Hey sweetheart, 

I swear this won’t be a common thing of you waking up without me next to you after a night together. My agent called and said he needed us so I had to go. I wanted to wake you up to kiss you goodbye but you looked so beautiful I couldn’t do it.

I left you some cash. If it’s not enough just let me know and I can give you more. It occurred to me I actually don’t know how much you make in a night and Gareth ordered the service so…

I’ll call you later to check in. Be careful tonight at work!

Eddie

You grinned as you read his words and grabbed the money he left behind. There was a tugging in the pit of your stomach as you got up and tucked it away in your private safe place. Eddie so far didn’t seem like the other men from the club or houses you had been to. You didn’t mind taking their money because usually they were dirty jerks who only wanted one thing. Eddie seemed to genuinely care about you and it somehow felt wrong taking this from him. 

Sighing, you shoved down that feeling. Like he said, this wasn’t intimate and you weren’t dating him. 

“Think about it like instead of fucking other people, you are just fucking me.”

***

The first month of your arrangement with him was a bit odd. He still hadn’t fucked you nor did he try. For a man that wasn’t keen on being touched, he ran his hands over your naked body constantly.

“You’re really fucking beautiful, you know that?”

“Thank you.”, you smiled as you ran your hands through his hair while he kissed along your tummy.

“You taste amazing to. I’ve never tasted a girl as sweet as you.”

When he finally allowed you to taste him, it was heaven and you promptly floated to cloud 9 as he thrust himself down your throat. 

“Look at you, pretty girl. Drunk off Daddy’s cock. Fuck… that’s it, baby. Just keep your mouth open and let Daddy use you.”

After you two were intimate, he was extremely gentle and kind. Eddie would lay beside you, his hand absently running through your hair as he told you stories about the band and crazy things that had happened on tours. He told you about some of his friends back in Indiana which led you to talking about your friends and some of the girls you had gotten close with in the business. 

Sometimes he would bring over dinner or order something in and you two would curl up together and watch a movie or whatever was on the tv. You absolutely adored the funny side of his personality that always had you laughing. 

The reality of your situation, however, came crashing down while you were scrolling through your phone one evening and an article caught your eye. 

“Guitarist of Corroded Coffin seen out on the town with model! Get all the details here!”

“Is that why he hasn’t fucked me? Is it because he’s seeing someone? He never mentioned having a girlfriend. Who cares?! No, Y/N, no! You can’t be jealous!”

In the picture they posted he seemed annoyed as he tried to block their pictures with his hand. Around her shoulders was a jacket you recognized as his and your heart fell. 

Your phone dinged and his text filled your screen. 

“Hey princess! I’ve been thinking about you all day. When are you free again so we can hang out?”

Your finger hovered over the message as you debated on whether to reply or not. 

“No. I need to shake this feeling first and then I’ll message him. I can’t be jealous. He’s not mine.”

##############

“Hey baby. Haven’t heard from you. I hope you’re alright.”

“Y/N, I’m really worried now. It’s been two days and I know you’re reading my messages. At least let me know if you’re ok.”

“We had an arrangement. You’re supposed to be open with me, Y/N.”

“Don’t play this game with me, little girl. You won’t win.”

That last message came through at two in the morning as you lied in bed wide awake still trying to shake the anger you felt when it came to him and this girl. Eddie had called and texted you so many times and honestly it was killing you to not answer. You missed him. 

“Come on, honey. Shake it off. You’re heading into the snake pit.”

You mentally pump yourself up as you step up to the curtain, preparing to go out on to the stage and dance. 

“Hey baby. Just so you know we changed your song so this next one is a bit slower…sensual. I don’t fucking know.”

“Tommy! You can’t just change my music like that!”

“HEY! This man paid a lot of money asking to see you dance to this specific song so you’ll fucking do it if you want to get paid.”

You grumble at your boss, closing your eyes as you exhale and try to get back into your dancer headspace. As the music begins to play, you feel yourself momentarily knocked out once more as the band you showed Eddie that first night he came over began to play.

“I feel myself go insane I've got a lot I cannot say For too long, I bide my time I'll say I'm fine.”

As you stepped out, the regulars hoot and holler but only one person grabs your attention as he sits at the end of the stage with his arms folded, eyes burning into yours.

“I watch you float on, float on For too long, I've been too fake Pretend to be, all that you need

So tell me the truth, my baby, baby Is it me, is it you?”

Eddie cockily smirks, feeling victory at rattling you after you disappeared on him for a few days. You can’t let him win, sauntering around the stage like you had done a million times but making sure to add extra sways of your hips when your body faces his. You decide to play with him, showing him how strong and confident you really are as you place your back against the pole and sink down slowly onto your heels as you open your legs to him.

His eyelids flutter slightly as your panties barely cover your sex but he quickly regains his composure as he sits up straighter. 

“The image stuck inside my mind Your body trapped in space and time For too long, I dream of you All that you do.”

Smirking, you crawl forward on your hands and knees till you’re right in front of him. God, you missed his smell. You close your eyes as you flip onto to your back and your head hangs over the end, your hair just barely touching his legs as you inhale the mixture of cigarettes and strong cologne. 

“I watch you float on, float on For too long, I contemplate I try to be all that you need.

So tell me the truth, my baby, baby Is it me, is it you?”

Pulling a pack of a cigarettes out of his pocket, you roll on to your stomach as he puts the stick between his teeth. His hands nonchalantly try to search for his lighter but right as your eyes meet, you lift your hand and light the one you saw on the table in front of him. Eddie grins as you bite you bottom lip and he leans towards the flame to light his vice.

As the song comes to an end, you walk off stage as your money is collected and handed to you a few moments later.

“I’m going home, Tommy.”

“Excuse me, you still have one more show to put on.”

“Doc my pay then. I don’t fucking care.” You quickly gather your earnings from the evening and slide on your jeans before heading out the back door where the dancers park. 

“Hey princess.” You jump as Eddie startles you, already reaching for your pepper spray as he chuckles and brings the cigarette in his hands to his lips. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Quite frankly, I thought you were dead. I haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“Yeah, I, um, I’ve been kind of busy.”

Eddie laughs again as he takes a few steps closer to you. 

“Didn’t I tell you I hate liars, little girl?”

Obviously, you were lying but for some reason him calling you out on it made you angry. 

“I’m not lying.”

“Oh? What were you busy doing, if I may ask?”

“You may not. I’m not your fucking girlfriend, Mr. Munson. I don’t have to report to you.”

“You’re right you’re not but you are my friend and when you disappeared…I got worried.”

He was being so sincere and to know someone out in the world actually cared if something happened to you made your heart beat faster for him. Taking a few steps closer, his chocolate eyes continued to scan you over as he tried to figure out what you were thinking.

“Aw, poor rockstar is so desperate for companionship he thinks a girl he pays money to fuck is his friend? Oh wait, we do everything but…my fault.”

As he takes his last steps, he tosses his cigarette to the side as his face hovers over yours.

“Is that what this is about? Whore is so needy for my fucking dick she ignores me? We had a deal, little girl. You spend time with me and open up to me; I fucking pay you. I could have any woman I want, Y/N, but I chose you.”

“Well, don’t I feel fucking special. Do you say poetry like that to you girlfriend?”

Eddie’s head tilts to the side as genuine confusion flashes through his eyes. 

“Girlfriend? What girlfriend? Y/N between recording, photoshoots, interviews, and tours I don’t have time for a girlfriend.”

“You manage to make time for that model. What’s her name? Ashley Morris?”

You watch as understanding fully comes crashing down on his face as he exhales heavily through his nose and places his hands on his hips. 

“You said you wouldn’t get jealous.”

“I’m not.”

“STOP…stop lying to me, Y/N.”

“Maybe…maybe it should have just been sex. Spending time with you and talking to you…it’s confusing things… I mean seeing me just then showing my body to everyone…did that not bother you?”

Crossing his arms, he turned his head to glare in any other direction.

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Now who’s fucking lying.”, you growl as you wave him off with your hand and get in your car to go home alone.

############

“Yeah, hello?”, Eddie grumbles as he answers the phone call that just woke him up from a peaceful drunk induced sleep.

“E-Eddie?”

The metalhead sat up in bed when he heard the panic in your voice. 

“Y/N? What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Someone broke into my house and tried to steal my stuff. I managed t-to fight them off and the cops are coming but I-I’m scared. Eddie I didn’t know who else to call.”

While you were talking, he scrounged around his room for his sneakers and a shirt. 

“Baby, it’s okay. Everything’s ok. I’ll be there in 10.”

***

When Eddie parked his van, a cop car was already there and your front door was wide open. He sprinted into the house to find you sitting at your dining room table. As soon as you saw him, you got up and wrapped your arms around his waist as he pressed your face to his chest. 

“Ok, Miss Y/L/N, I think we have everything we need here. I would recommend heading to the hospital so they can look you over—”

“No, that won’t be… I have some medical stuff here.”

The officer nods before pausing as his eyes glance over the metalhead. “Holy shit. You’re Eddie Munson from Corroded Coffin! Dude, I am a huge fan. Would you mind signing my notepad here?”

“I would mind. Are you fucking serious? This girl just went through something traumatic and you have the nerve to ask me for my autograph in her kitchen?! Get out of here, man!”, he shouts as he points towards your door. Following behind them, he quickly closes and locks it tight. “Let me look at you, Y/N.”

His rough, calloused hands cup your face as he looks at the small cut along your cheek before his thumbs come down to caress the bruises starting to form on your forearms. 

“He tried to hold me down after I hit him with my bat. They got in a swing before I kicked him in his balls and he ran off.” Your watery eyes met his as you continued. “I’m sorry. Like I said, I didn’t know who to call.”

“Hey. I’m glad you called me. You have no reason to be sorry, honey. Here, go sit in your bed and I’m going to grab some things here.”

Nodding, you do what he says and after a few minutes he reappears with some supplies.

“I’ll call someone for you tomorrow to come by first thing and fix your front window. Turn your head for me, Y/N.” After exposing your cheek, you wince as he cleans your wound. “I know, baby. It fucking sucks.” He becomes silent for a moment as he dutifully continues his task. “When I was a kid, sometimes I would do this for my mom. I would hear her crying in her room after my dad left and I would run in trying to make her feel better.”

Your head swiveled slowly to scan his face as he put down the rag and place the frozen bag of vegetables on your arm, holding it still with his palm. 

“Ashley Morris is a friend, Y/N. She’s not my girlfriend or anything like that. She just broke up with her actual boyfriend and needed someone to vent to. I guess one of the waiters called the tabloids and told them we were there. Ashley may be a model but she’s extremely shy and since she was feeling so vulnerable I gave her my jacket and walked her to her car so she’d feel safe.”

Alternating the bag, he switched it to your other arm and finally lifted his gaze to meet your eyes. 

“I meant what I said. I’m so fucking busy, I don’t have time for a girlfriend but Y/N…I make time for you because I like you. I like spending time with you and talking to you. Did it make me jealous seeing all those creeps eye fucking you? Yeah, a little but when I watched you dance…I realized…you only had eyes for me.” You can’t help but blush at his comment and he smiles at your response. 

“Y/N, if you want to keep our thing here I’m all for it but you can’t disappear like you did. I need you to be open and honest with me. I need you to trust me…and maybe I need to be a bit clearer. I’m not fucking anyone else nor do I want to. You’re MY baby girl and I’m YOUR Daddy, honey.”

Abruptly, you leaned forward to kiss his lips. 

“I’m sorry. I promise I’ll try to be more open.” Eddie nods as he tosses the bag on your end table and starts cleaning up the small mess he made in front of you. “Why haven’t you fucked me yet?”

The metalhead chuckles as he reaches out to brush some of your hair away from your face. 

“I like to take my time especially when it comes to you. You have the most beautiful fucking body I have ever seen, sweetheart, and…”, he pauses for a moment to collect his thoughts. “In the past, I’ve had women fuck me and I never hear from them again. I imagine you’ve experienced the same thing. I want to know you’re all in before I give you what you’re craving.”

“What I’m craving?”, you giggle. “What about you? You’re not craving me just as bad?”

Eddie licks his lips as his grin grows. “Baby, I dream about how amazing it must feel to be inside of you. I jerk off thinking about it. But see the thing is, little one, you seem to need it more than me and the idea of watching you desperately beg for it…just…oh my god.”, he exhales as his eyes playfully roll back. 

You light heartedly push his chest and he tilts towards you to kiss you again. 

“Would you mind staying with me tonight, Daddy?”

##########

You woke up the next morning to the strong smell of bacon coming from your kitchen. 

“Hey, sweetheart! How are you feeling?”

You grin at the sight in front of you as Eddie plates the eggs in the pan and slides it towards you as you take a seat at your table.

“I’m ok…a little sore.”

Gently, he lifts your arms to look at the bruising before leaning down to kiss your lips. 

“We’ll put more ice on these after you eat. I did get your window fixed so you don’t have to worry about that.”, he gestured towards the glass that had previously been broken. 

 “Thank you.”

Eddie hums gently as he nods, taking a seat in front of you to eat breakfast as well. Your eyes watch him as he eats, smiling to yourself as he shovels eggs into his mouth. Right now, he didn’t radiate any kind of energy signaling he made millions of dollars or was famous for anything in any forum. In his black sweats and bare chest, he also didn’t appear to be the kind of man that would get off on being called Daddy. He always seemed to have this confidence surrounding him but in moments like this one he seemed…vulnerable. Maybe you could do the same…

“My dad died when I was a kid.” Eddie’s brown eyes lifted to meet yours when he hears your voice. “It was sudden and threw everyone off especially my mom. She ended up getting remarried to this asshole who wasn’t very fond of me.”

“What makes you say that?”, he asks with a gentle tone.

“Because he kept trying to fuck me and I kept turning him down.” Your tone was much more forceful than you meant it to be but he understood as he nodded to your answer. “I, uh, left as soon as I turned 18. Ran all the way across the country but I still don’t feel like I’m far enough.”

“I can understand that. I come from a small town of people who always saw me as some kind of troublemaker just because my dad was. Even though I’m here and I travel all over the world, I still feel like people see me as the dickhead’s son.”

“I’m sorry.”, you mumble as you throw him a soft smile. 

“Hey.” His beautiful, ring covered hand slides across the wood to cover your own. “Thank you for being open just now.”

The rest of the morning was one of the best that you had had in a long time. You curled back up in bed and watched a movie with him on your laptop. Afterwards, you continued to lay together listening to music taking about trivial things but to him it was everything. Everything that came out of your mouth Eddie absorbed and noted as he continued to mentally study what made you who you were. 

His phone went off a thousand times and every time he ignored it before finally just shutting it down entirely. 

“You can go if you need to.”

“Do you want me to go?”

“No! I mean…no. I just don’t want you to get in trouble.”

Eddie chuckles as he turns onto his side to look down at you as the pads of his fingers trace along the skin of your stomach under your shirt. 

“Naw, I won’t get in trouble. I’m Eddie Munson, remember? They kind of expect this behavior by now.”

“For you to be a bad boy?”, you tease. 

“You like it. Speaking of bad, I still need to punish you for disappearing on me.”

“Oh?”

“Are you feeling up to it?”

Beaming up at him, you tilt your head to quickly kiss his lips. “I can handle anything you got, Daddy.”

Flashing a mischievous tooth filled grin, his fingers glide to the waistband of your panties and gently tugs them down your legs. 

“I want you to keep your hands at your sides, princess. Okay? Don’t move them no matter what.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

His smile grows as he lifts your leg closest to him and places it over his hip eliciting a low mewl as his palm runs down your thigh. 

“Gorgeous girl. I know a lot of people prefer tasting pussy to touching and, don’t get me wrong, babe, I could keep my face between your legs forever but there’s something about being able to feel how wet you are…”

Eddie’s digits effortlessly slip through your folds and your breath hitches when he grazes your clit. Hovering his lips just above your own, two of his large fingers breach you entrance.

“…and how tight you are. Having your little cunt just clench around me as I stretch it open.”

You moan as he begins to move, pumping them inside of you as he watches your face scrunch in pleasure. 

“God, just to be this close to your beautiful face…do my fingers feel good, sweetheart?”

“S-so good, Daddy. Please.”

Eddie’s nose grazes yours before tilting down to kiss your cheek and trailing over to the shell of your ear. 

“Fuck. It just makes me so hard being this close to hear those pretty moans and…” The sound of your arousal filled that room as his rhythm picked up. “…then that whine when I take it all away.” As you felt yourself about to tumble over the edge, he completely stopped moving causing you to loudly whimper in despair. 

“No! No, please.” When he lifted his head again to meet your eyes, they were shimmering with amusement. “Please… I’m sorry.”

“Uh huh. I bet you are.” He began moving his fingers again, slowly building you back up. “Only good girls get to cum. You disappeared on me, Y/N. I was so worried about you.” Your eyes rolled back as your hands desperately clawed at the sheets underneath you. 

Once again, just as the coil was about to snap, he stopped moving, and pulled his fingers out of you to lightly slap between your legs. 

You growled in annoyance, practically throwing a tantrum as you kicked your legs like a child and pushed at his chest with your palms. He grinned down at you for a moment, long enough for you to feel like you had the upper hand before abruptly grabbing your cheeks, forcing you to face him.

“I said keep your arms at your sides no matter what. You keep disobeying and things are only going to get worse.”

You felt the anger rise in your chest. How dare he build you up like that and take away your pleasure!

“Fuck you!”

“Oh. Little girl is angry now, huh?!” He chuckled as your tantrum continued and you huffed. “We can play this game all night if you want, brat. I have no where I would rather be.”

Roughly, he lifted your leg over his hip again and you moaned as he thrust his fingers inside of you. The sudden quick action caused you to try and shift your body away from him but he was faster as grabbed your wrists, holding them above your head as he yanked you back to his side.

“What did I say before about respect, little girl? You will show me the respect I deserve. You can pout all you want but you’re just making things harder on yourself.”

Eddie brought you to the edge once more and yanked you back. He expected you to keep whining but to his slight fascination, your entire body stilled as you turned your head into his chest and began to cry. 

“Y/N, what color are we at, sweetheart?”, he whispered as he lightly kissed your cheek.

“Gr-gr-green, Daddy. I’m sorry. I’m s-s-sorry I disappeared. I just…we said we wouldn’t…get jealous. I didn’t want to reply…until that feeling…was gone.”, you hiccupped. 

Your hips twitched as Eddie softly began rubbing circles into your clit.

“Thank you for being honest with me, honey.” His gentle eyes scanned over your face as you continued to quietly sob in his arms. After what you told him at the table and looking at you now, he had a sudden realization that his normal punishment tactics may not work with you. Technically, it had worked. Him denying you during this punishment got you to tell him what he wanted to hear but he wasn’t sure if you understood why HE had been so upset. 

As he leaned down to kiss your lips, his digits slid back into you as you moaned. Eddie released his grip on your wrists to hold your head as his kisses grew more passionate and he pumped into you faster. Breaking away from him, you panted heavily against his mouth as you felt yourself about to cum. This time, he didn’t stop or pull away. His chocolate-colored eyes locked with your own as you were finally able to tumble off that ledge, your back arching as the coil snapped.

He patiently waited for you to come back down to earth before he spoke again. 

“Sometimes when my father was angry with me, he would ignore me. I always knew the shoe was going to drop hard when he was silent, I just never knew when or how bad. When I didn’t hear from you, my instinct was that you were upset about something but last time I saw you everything was fine. Then I thought because of your line of work…something bad happened to you… I’m not trying to be a clingy asshole or anything like that. I just really care about you, Y/N but you have to remember I’ve also been through some bullshit to.”

Eddie’s thumbs ran under your eyes as he dried your tears and that safe feeling washed over you again as he continued to be gentle. 

“I’m sorry I said I wasn’t your friend. I care about you to. I’ve never met anyone like you before and it scares me a little bit.”

“That fight or flight kicked in?”

“Yeah.”, you beam up at him. “Eddie, I really am sorry.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him against you, smiling wider when he rolls on top of you and leans back obnoxiously kiss your neck to your cheeks. 

“Can I make it up to you, Daddy?”

When he nods, you begin to push against his shoulder to turn him on to his back but you’re startled slightly when he stops you. 

“Can I fuck you?”, he whispers as he grinds his hips between your legs.

“Yeah…yes…of course.” Eddie can’t help but chuckle as you stumble over your words. It’s your turn to stop him as he reaches for his wallet to grab a condom. “I’m on the pill. I started when I started doing the service. I’m also clean. The manager at the club pays for us to get that done every other week.” You don’t know why but telling him that embarrasses you making you cover your face with your hands. 

“Hey. Come on. Look at me, sweetheart.”, he coos, smiling when you drop your arms back down.

“Goddamn it. I feel like I’m about to lose my virginity again.”, you giggle. “I just…I’m nervous. I don’t want you to think I’m…dirty.”

“Y/N, you aren’t dirty because of what you do or have had to do to survive. I think you’re beautiful and confident. Fucking amazing. You are a bit of a dork but—ow!” The metalhead laughs through his teeth when you lightly hit his shoulder. “I’m just saying…there’s more to you than your occupation. Just like me. I’m, um, I’m clean to. Honestly, I haven’t had sex in a…couple of months?”

Your eyes playfully widen in surprise and he covers your face with your shirt as he lifts it over your head. 

“Like I told you, people come and go from my life so quickly. Things like this matter to me and…” Eddie pauses as he shuffles out of sweats and boxers. “I don’t let just anyone call me Daddy.”

“So you’re saying I should feel special?”

He grins as he reaches between your bodies, taking hold of his cock, and slides the tip of himself along the inside of your folds, watching your face as it contorts with need. 

“I think you already know how special you are, baby girl. Not a lot of women like you on this planet.”

“Fuck. Please…stop teasing me…”

“What did I say you had to do to get what your craving?”

An exasperated laugh escapes your lips making his smile grow as he grazes his nose against yours. 

“Please, Daddy. I need you to fuck me. I’ve been waiting for so long to feel you inside of me. Please, let me feel you.”

After a quick peck on your lips, he pushes up on his knees, and takes hold of one of your thighs as he gradually begins guiding himself into your entrance.

“Oh, fuck.” Your breath caught in your throat as your mouth fell open. He was genuinely trying to go slow as he pushed in inch by inch but he was so big you still felt full.

“You’re doing so good, baby. We’re almost there. Just keep breathing. Fuck, you feel amazing.” His thumb rubbed gentle circles into your clit causing your eyes to flutter closed as your pussy clenched tighter around him. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

Eddie began doing little thrusts, allowing you to get used to the feel and size of him but your senses were already so overwhelmed with him. All you could see, taste, feel, smell, and hear was Eddie Munson. When he was finally fully sheathed inside of you, you couldn’t help but tear up again. As he leaned forward, your hands gripped his biceps and your legs wrapped around him to keep him as close to you as possible. 

“Color, honey?”

“Green, Daddy. M-Move. Mmm…I need you to…move.”

“I am moving, princess.”

Aggressively, you shook your head preparing to throw another tantrum but Eddie caught on before you could do anything and he placed his fingers around your throat. 

“Don’t be a brat, little girl. You take what I give you. Do you understand?”

“Y-Yes, Daddy.”

Licking his lips, he released you from his hold and softly kissed your cheek down to your ear. You moaned as you felt his cock drag along your tight walls till once again it was just his tip before thrusting himself all the way back inside of you. 

“Is this what you needed, sweetheart?” Your eyes close as your nails trail down his back and he grunts at the sensation as he pumps into you at a steady pace. “Fuck me. Your little pussy is just clinging to me. Tell me how good it feels, baby.”

You heard him, you really did, but the English language seemed like a completely foreign concept to you as his cock kept hitting that spot inside of you that no other man had ever reached before. 

Eddie lifted his head to look at your face, chuckling at the sight.

“Aw. Poor baby can’t handle how good she feels? Come on, baby girl. Open your eyes and talk to Daddy.”

It took what felt like eons for you to command your brain to tell your eyes to open but you were glad when they did when they meet his lust filled yet soft brown ones. 

“My pretty girl.” His tongue danced with yours as he kissed your lips and you mewled loudly against them as he began thrusting his hips faster. 

“Please, I’m gonna…”

You watched as he pushed over on one elbow and spit against the tips of his fingers before reaching down to rapidly massage your bundle of nerves.

Eddie’s intense gaze never left your face as he watched you fall apart. 

“That’s it, honey. Fucking scream so everyone can hear how good Daddy’s making you feel!”

Your nails dig into his hips as the coil snapped. He winced slightly at the pain but it was nothing compared to the pleasurable feeling of your cunt squeezing him as you came. 

“God fucking damn it, Y/N.” He growled he fell back on top of you and chased his high. 

His hips pounded roughly into yours and you clung to him as tightly as you could till you heard him grunt in your ear and felt him release his seed deep inside you.

You were still in your fog as you closed your eyes, listening to the sounds of him roll off the bed and move about your room. You didn’t open them again until you suddenly felt the warmth of water and realized he had made you a bath.

“Are you going to sit in here with me?” Your voice was small so he knew you were still lingering in that headspace as a kindly smiled down at you and bent down on his heels. 

“If that’s what you want.”

“Please?”

Eddie kissed your cheek making you grin as he climbed in behind you and laid against his chest. 

“I just didn’t want to over crowd you or make you uncomfortable.”

“No… I like when you hold me.” 

He continued kissing parts of your body as he helped you get clean. Eddie learned over these past few weeks he loved the way that you hummed when her played with your hair. While you sat together, he ran his fingers through it while massaging your scalp, and sighed pleasantly at the sound. 

“Eddie? I really am sorry for disappearing and making you worry. I told you before I’m not good at this but I swear I am trying.”

“Thank you and I forgive you. Y/N, we’re both still learning each other but I get it. I do. I’m not great at this stuff either believe it or not. I meant what I said back there. I don’t let anyone into my world like this.”

“May I ask how many?”

“One.”

You couldn’t help but giggle but as you turned to look at his face you realized he was being serious. 

“You’ve only had this arrangement with one other girl?”

“Since I became famous, I’ve only had one girlfriend I was serious with.”

“How long were you together?”

“4 years. We were dating for a year before we tried this dynamic. After we broke up, I didn’t feel comfortable showing that side of myself to strangers so any time I was intimate with someone I waited for them to say it first.”

When you nod, he encases you in his arms and kisses your temple.

“What about you?”

“You know I’ve never called anyone Daddy before.”

“No.”, he chuckles. “How many relationships have you had in your adult life?”

“I’ve…had a few here and there but…none I felt comfortable in. I think the longest relationship I’ve had is four months. He was an asshole.”

“How so?” Eddie noticed you fold into yourself slightly and his protective mode immediately kicked in. "Y/N, he never put his hands on you or anything right?”

“He was never physically aggressive but verbally he could cut me in half. He was always so obsessive and possessive. After I left him, he kept showing up at my door begging me to take him back. When I told him no, he tried to come in anyway. Part of the reason I have that bat.”

“Well, if that fucker comes around again you tell me. I’ll take care of him.”

You smile as you kiss his lips before he helps you out of the tub and puts you in some comfy clothes. 

“Are you hungry? I can order us something.”

“Can we…is it ok if we lay down for a little bit.”

After kissing your forehead, he climbs in beside you and you curl up into his side resting your head on his chest. 

“There’s no rush here, Y/N. When you’re with me we can move as slow as you need to.”

############

@mynameismothra @hideoutside @micheledawn1975

#dom eddie munson #daddy eddie munson #eddie munson #joseph quinn #stranger things #eddie fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie stranger things #joseph quinn smut #fan fiction #eddie x reader #joseph quinn fluff #spotify #eddie x y/n #eddie x you #eddie x fem!reader #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #Spotify #sub reader #brat reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #rockstar!eddie munson

[stylesispunk]

TIME CASTS A SPELL ON YOU, BUT YOU WON'T FORGET ME | CHAPTER 1

Joel Miller x f!oc

chapter 1: 'Til the sound of my voice can haunt you

series masterlist | next | masterlist

summary: Fifteen years ago, amidst the filling of divorce papers and the broken promises of a happily ever after, the world collapsed. Amidst the ruins of cities and the remnants of dreams, Joel's search for his ex-wife began. No matter where he turned, the woman who had once loved him held him captive, a presence he couldn't escape.

Word count: 1,6k

Warnings: tlou spoilers, guns, angst.

the story's main idea is based on the lyrics from "Silver Springs" by Fleetwood Mac,

a/n: Hello, this is the new fic I'm working on now. Just for reference, the story develops from the events in ep 2 of the show because I'm rewatching it and I had to start from somewhere. I really hope you like it, if you do, please comment, reblog, and share your thoughts with me, my asks are always open (please be kind). I love hearing from you guys and I'm really excited to see how this story goes and share it with you. If you want to be added to my taglist, you can tell me. Happy reading 💌

Since the world had ended and transformed into a desolate scenery full of horror, blood, grief, and loss. Joel had witnessed the changes in people, and what they were capable of doing to survive. He, himself, did horrible things to be where he was now, and he often asked himself if she did the same. What could have been if they had been together that fatal night? Would they still be together? Would Sarah still be alive? Those were the things persisting in his mind.

But there had been Tess, his partner in crime and the only person he had allowed himself to care about. She had been there. Yes, in the past, because grief hung over Joel once again. 

Joel found himself in a state of disbelief, taking a moment to remember Tess, losing his partner in crime and confident made him feel cold and gray like a storm cloud passing inside his body. It felt like karma, as if those words that escaped from Emily’s lips years ago were becoming a reality.

She would never let him escape, and he would never be able to escape from her constant torture. 

After a few minutes, he decided to go back to Ellie to their campsite. Ellie was in the same position as when he left. He didn’t utter a word to her, opting just to take his backpack, throwing it over his shoulder, and walking forward. He was avoiding Ellie and Ellie was avoiding Joel. The air felt heavy and full of tension. There was nothing left to do, and Joel had to learn how to live with another scar.

Joel blamed Ellie, but he also blamed Emily and her curse. 

“How much longer?” Ellie asked, breaking the suffocating air.

“Five-hour hike,” he simply answered.

“We can do that ” the teen said as a matter of fact.

Once they were out of the woods, back on the route. Their situation didn’t change. Joel was leading the way in silence and expecting the same gesture in return from Ellie, but he knew damn well Ellie was going to break the silence at any moment.

“You know what?” she said.

Damn, this kid and her questions, Joel thought.

“What?” He asked, exasperated. 

“Back in the woods, when you were there doing, I don’t know what,” she started. “I dug into your backpack.”

“Why would you do that?” Joel’s tone contained a lace-on anger.

“Food,” she confessed. “But that’s not the important.”

Pushing aside his exasperation, Joel forced himself to look at Ellie.

“I found this picture” she continued, digging into her jacket pocket to grab the picture and holding it for him to see. “Who is this woman?” 

Joel's heart skipped a beat once he saw that picture. He had placed that photograph inside his bag a long time ago when he realized he would never find Emily. But he couldn’t find himself to throw it away.

And what a time for her to return to his life, he thought, looking up to the sky as if she was there.

Joel cleared his throat, his voice rough from emotion. "Wife. She was my wife.”

Ellie's gaze remained fixed on him.

“What happened to her?” she asked, cautiously.

“We got divorced a week before this.” He answered, avoiding Ellie’s gaze.

Ellie just nodded, not pushing him anymore. She knew that some stories were painful to tell, and Joel's history was undoubtedly filled with such moments.

As Joel and Ellie kept walking, silence came back. She knew Joel was a man of few words, and Ellie often struggled to find the right words to say.

Ellie's voice, soft and filled with empathy, broke the silence that had settled between them.

"Joel," she said, her eyes searching his face for any sign of emotion, "I'm sorry for bringing up the past for you”

Joel turned his gaze back to Ellie, her concern touching him in a way he hadn't expected. He smiled, trying to give her some kind of reassurance.

"It's alright, kid," he replied, his voice soft. “The past is part of our story; We can’t pretend it didn’t exist.” 

Ellie's eyes brightened with understanding, and for the first time since their paths had crossed, a sense of mutual comprehension blossomed between them. In that fleeting moment, they shared a silent agreement. 

But once again, Ellie broke the silence.

“You should have your picture back,” she said, giving the photograph back to him.

Joel contemplated the photograph in his hand, its edges frayed from years of handling. It was a distant dream now. His gaze lingered on the faded smiles captured in the picture, and he put it back to where it belonged. 

"Thanks," he said softly, with a faint smile.

Joel didn’t want to admit it, but Ellie’s presence didn’t feel like a total burden to him. It was actually bringing him a sense of peace and purpose in life as if he was healing from the wounds the past life placed in his heart years ago. From the day he lost Sarah, and from the day he made Emily run from him. He had carried her as a ghost in his thoughts and in his heart.

His thoughts lingered back to those days for a few moments, the lingering touches and sloppy kisses, the sound of Emily and Sarah's laughter echoing through their house, the one he had once called home.

Joel's thoughts were interrupted as he realized Ellie was still there, walking beside him. Her presence was a reminder that he wasn't alone in this world, that he had someone to protect and care for once, even when it was just a “mission” for him.

"Did she die?" Ellie asked, glancing at him.

He hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. " I looked out for her, but I failed.” 

“Sometimes we do things that haunt us later." She said, carrying an undertone.

Joel's gaze drifted back to the horizon. "Yeah, kid. They sure do."

Night had fallen, and the dark had enveloped Joel and Ellie. It was eerily silent, broken only by the rustling of leaves in the breeze.

“Okay”, Ellie broke the silence “I know I said we could manage the five-hour hike, but I'm tired.” 

"Alright, Ellie," he replied, his voice low and weary, "Let's find a safe place to rest for the night."

They continued walking, searching for a suitable spot to set up camp. The world around them was a haunting canvas of shadows and shapes, capturing the eerie silence, keeping them alert and on edge in case of an unexpected sound.

And then, in the middle of this foreboding night, that haunting voice made a comeback, 

“Stop there.” 

That voice.

Recognition cut through the darkness like a knife. It was her voice, the one that had haunted him for years. Joel's heart began to race, and disbelief washed over him.

Joel's heart ached with longing. He couldn’t believe it. 

He turned and what his eyes saw opened a door he had locked protectively.

When the hopes of finding the love of his life were long gone, the world put her in front of him again. 

"Em," he said, his voice laced with a hint of vulnerability, he took a cautious step forward.

Her once-warm eyes now held a cold gaze as they fell upon Joel. Recognition flashed in her eyes, but her posture didn't waver. The gun in her hands, still remaining there, pointing at Joel. 

"I looked for you everywhere that night " he whispered, raising his hands in surrender. 

Emily's grip on the gun tightened, and she took a step back, putting distance between them, reflecting the same years of detachment between them. 

“Did I allow you to talk?” she said, her voice filled with anger.

“Holy shit,” Ellie said, astonished. “Your wife”

Emily swiftly turned her head toward the teenager, her gaze piercing. 

“Ellie” Joel muttered, attempting to be cautious.   

“Shut up!” she gritted at Joel; her voice devoid of any softness.

At that moment, the woman standing in front of him was not his Emily, but a ghost of hers. At that moment, he didn’t feel the need to hold her. At that moment, the memory he had held of her for the last fifteen years dissipated.

Joel took advantage of Emily’s little distraction and swiftly placed a knife through her throat. He smirked, making up a barrier to hide his true emotions. 

"Just try to hurt my cargo," he warned, "and I'll end you." 

Joel's jaw clenched, and his grip on the knife tightened, as he stood there holding her by her back with the knife against her throat, their prior grievances about their story hanging heavily between them.

Emily smirked back; her defiance undeterred. "Don’t act so rude” she spitted, “I wasn’t looking for you” Emily added, her voice filled with resignation at the end.

Joel's grip on the knife slowly lessened, and he stepped back, releasing her. His emotions were a tumultuous storm inside him. 

“I told you that you would never forget me, Joel Miller” she affirmed, after all those years.

At those words, Joel’s gaze didn't waver, but the mask he had worn for so long was cracking. He couldn't deny the truth in Emily's words, he had never truly moved on from her.

With a heavy sigh, Joel turned away from Emily, his thoughts a turbulent whirlwind. The encounter had reopened old wounds

Joel sighed and looked away from Emily once more, his thoughts a whirlwind. The encounter had rekindled old wounds. He had never forgotten her, even when he tried to bury her memory, and this unexpected reunion was tainted with tension.

As they stood face to face in the same place after a lifetime of separation, both of them knew that the future ahead was uncertain. 

Had fate really brought them back together?

tag: @joeldjarin

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel miller series #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller angst #tlou fanfiction #joel the last of us #joel x reader #Joel Miller #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascar character imagine #pedro pascal

[trentonsimblr]

Previous-beginning-Next

Post 2 of 2 for today!

AN: The dialogue and the poses for this post were a HUGE labor of love by @ardeney-sims . All I can say to her is thank you and you knocked it out of the park!!!

P.S The transcript is below the cut!

B: Um, hey.

V: …

B: Your cousin… she, um… she said you’d be out here. 

V: …

B: Is it okay if I sit beside you?

V: Sure.

V: If you were trying to hurt me or get back at me for ghosting you for a week by ghosting me for a little over a month, you were very successful.

B: I… I wasn't trying to get back at you.

V: Could have fooled me.

B: You could have always messaged me, you know.

V: I had no courage left in me after how we left things. It was all used up when I was trying to explain myself to you.

B: Why would you need to build up the courage to message me?

V: Because you seemed upset with me when you left the call and it made me nervous and scared to reach out.

B: I wasn't upset with you. I just needed some time.

V: When I didn’t hear back from you after you said you’d message me later, it felt like our friendship was just… over.

B: It was never over. Not even for a second.

V: It really felt like it though.

B: Why won't you look at me?

V: I’m overwhelmed and not sure that I'm ready to face the reality of the situation. If I don't see your face and I just listen to your voice, I hear my friend from the forums and that’s comforting to me. But if I see your face and still hear that same voice… I don’t know.

B: I'm still the same person though.

V: I know that, but I just… need a minute.

B: Of course. I’m sorry.

V: Don’t apologize. You haven’t done anything wrong.

B: Haven’t I? I keep doing things that seem to upset you or hurt you or make you sad and I don't like making you sad. There is nothing worse than seeing someone you love in pain while also knowing that you're the reason behind it. 

V: Blaze. Look at me. None of this is on you. You didn't do anything wrong. I'm the one at fault because it's MY emotional baggage that got us here in the first place. I don't want you to feel bad for things that were entirely out of your control. I was wrong about you and I am so incredibly sorry for how I've treated you both on and offline. I can definitely understand why you were so adamant about not video chatting with me.

B: I’m sorry about that… I know it upset you.

V: It did, I won’t lie. And while I'm sure at first it was in the interest of basic internet safety considering who you are, after my whole tirade about you… I get why you never wanted me finding out. I… I didn't make you feel safe anymore. I can only blame myself for that.

B: I just… I couldn’t risk losing our friendship and then having you hate me even more. I didn’t want to lie to you but I also didn’t know how I could tell you the truth? Because hearing that story and everything you said about me… it hurt a lot. 

V: And I am so incredibly sorry for it all. You didn’t deserve it. I was such a huge bitch who called you all kinds of horrible things and put you in a place where you couldn’t properly defend yourself. I know I can’t take it back but, if I could, I swear I’d do it in a heartbeat. 

B: Do you still see me in that light?

V: Not at all. Remember that conversation we had a few days later where I told you that you were right about my anger clouding my judgment? 

B: Yeah, I remember. 

V: That’s what got me to change my mind. You were the first person who challenged my version of events. Sure, I was a little annoyed at first, but because you’re someone I care about and I care about the things you say, I felt like I should at least try to see it from your point of view. 

B: And when you did? 

V: When I did, I realized that I was 100% keeping this grudge because I could. I’ve been really shitty to you Blaze and I really am sorry for everything. I hope you can forgive me.

B: Of course I do. Honestly, Vanessa, you could punch me in the face and kick me in the chest and I'd still forgive you.

V: Rest assured I won't be trying either. Friends don't give friends black eyes. Or a pneumothorax, for that matter.

B: But drugging and assault is fine?

V: Don’t start with that! Are you ever going to let me live that down?!

B:  Never. 

V: I’ve missed talking to you so much.

B: Likewise.

V: I swear, my therapist is going to have a field day once I tell her about this trip...

B: Therapist? Have you always been seeing a therapist?

V: No, that’s new. And how I got there and how it’s going is a long ass story in and of itself.

B: I mean… we’ve still got time before the party if you want to talk about it. V: And completely deplete my mental and social battery before I have to interact with people????? Hell no.

#ts4 #ts4 simblr #sims 4 #simblr #ts4 legacy #ts4 story #ts4 screenshots #ts4 storytelling #ts4 royal simblr #ts4 royal story #ts4 royalty #ts4 royal family #ts4 screenies #between a rock and a hard place #sim: vanessa saintifort #sim: blaze wellington

[sunny-desk]

4,252 Days Chapter 1: Day 1, Pt 1

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Fic Summary: FTWD re-written to include an OC named Gemma who has a platonic relationship/friends with benefits situation with Nick Clark and then goes on to be with Troy Otto. Chapter Summary: Gemma sees a guy run into the road and get hit by a car Word Count: 1177 Author’s Note: This is a big commitment, hopefully I stick with it. I'm excited. Gif from here.

“Please say you’re calling with good news.” Gemma can feel the pre-emptive disappointment radiating through the phone, almost hotter than the 8AM summer sunshine beating down on her as she walks along the street.

“Hello, Olivia. It’s so good to hear your voice. I’m doing well, thank you. How about you?” Sarcasm and semi-fake niceness hung on every word.

“Stop stalling, we saw each other an hour ago, you know how I am. How did it go? Did they suspect the undercut? Because I told you, Gem, it’s silly but it’s true, they’ll judge you for it.”

“It went great, Liv.” Gemma replied simply, not wanting to keep this going and make her friend more annoyed at her than she knows she already is. “No undercut suspected, zero tattoos spotted. I have to go in for a bit of training tomorrow but after that it’s a long weekend before I start properly on Monday.”

Olivia lets out a sigh of genuine relief through the phone, Gemma can tell she’s smiling as she talks. “That’s great, Gem! Really, that’s so great. I have to get back to work but I'll see you back home later, okay? We can talk about it more then. Maybe plan a way to celebrate a little? Alcohol free, of course.”

“Yeah, sounds good. Talk later.”

Gemma hangs up the phone, puts it in her navy blazer pocket and pulls her hair out of its low ponytail, replacing it with a high one, showing off the undercut Olivia spent 10 minutes stressing about helping her hide this morning. Working in a posh office where she has to hide even the most basic parts of herself isn’t exactly the dream but beggars can’t be choosers. She needs this job. She needs to get back on track.

She can already picture her life a few months from now, a little bit of money in her pocket, new clothes she’s been in need of for weeks, finally able to pay Liv the rent she’s owed. An apartment of her own is the real dream but that might be thinking too big right now and living with Liv definitely isn’t a problem. She can picture it though. Flat screen TV, dark green sofa, huge fluffy rug that feels like you’re walking on a cloud. A bit of saving and hard work at a job she’s pretty sure is going to be mind-numbing and it'll be real before she knows it. There’s a smile on Gemma’s face as she walks down the street thinking of the future. Things might finally be looking up.

-

The loud screech of tyres and the distant thud as something hits the hard road takes Gemma out of her daydream and back to reality. It’s like time freezes for a few seconds as she stops in her tracks, taking in the scene before her.

Black marks on the ground lead up to a small silver car stopped in the middle of the road. Its windshield is smashed and Gemma is pretty sure there’s a small dent on the bumper too. The driver is sitting there, shock on his face, probably not sure if what just happened is his own fault or the fault of the person who just bounced off his windshield and is now laying almost unconscious on the concrete. The other people in the area have stopped too. Some look annoyed that their morning has been disturbed, others look horrified.

There’s a quick rush as time starts again and Gemma runs towards the car and the fallen boy. On closer inspection, he looks rough. No shoes or socks, a half-torn, baggy, white shirt, ill-fitting jeans, hair that seems to not have been brushed in a few days. Gemma peers over her shoulder at a building across the road. She’s been living in the area long enough to know where that boy came running from. It likely wasn't the driver's fault. But it probably wasn’t the boy’s either.

He’s laying on his back, staring up at the sky. Gemma leans over him.

“Hey. Can you hear me? It’s okay. You’re okay,” She says, though she’s not sure that’s true. He looks quickly around him, as much as he can while still laying flat on the floor, and then looks Gemma in the eyes for a second, like he’s checking for something. “Just stay still.”

Looking up, Gemma realises that other than the driver, who took a few seconds to build up the courage to get out of his car and check the damage, she is the only person who has rushed over to help.

“What the hell are they all doing? See a lad get hit by a car and just stand there, seems reasonable, ugh,” she mutters angrily to no one in particular. Looking around quickly, scanning the small crowd, she spots a woman with her phone in her hand and points, “Oi, you, phone someone! Now!”

“No, I’m fine,” the guy mumbles as the woman lifts her phone to call and begins walking over. She hesitates slightly at his comment.

“Ignore him. He’s been hit on the head. Call them.”

He starts trying to sit up, probably faster than he should. Gemma crouches down and reaches out, preparing to attempt to catch him if he starts falling backwards. She makes a mental note to buy some work trousers that she can properly bend in with her first pay cheque. Liv can have these one’s back, if they survive the day.

“I’m fine. I’ll just.. I’ll walk it off, you know. Thanks.” He’s distracted when he says it, not fully in the moment and not looking at Gemma but instead surveying the area once again, searching.

Gemma pretends not to notice. “Walk it off? In whose shoes?” She says it playfully, trying to distract him from whatever this is. He doesn’t seem right. And he can’t just get up and walk this off.

He pauses and takes a look at his grimy, bare feet. “Have you never heard of shoeless hikes? You should try it sometime. It’s great, really.”

Gemma smiles slightly. “Sure it is. Listen, just lay back down, okay? Or at least just stay sitting. You don’t know what could be wrong. The ambulance will be here soon.”

“Nothing is wrong. Uh, I’m Nick, you’re British, it’s.. Tuesday..?” He counts on his fingers. “Well, it’s definitely a weekday. See? Everything..” He starts looking around mid sentence, “...is,” distracted again, more searching, “… fine.”

Gemma follows Nick’s gaze and realises he’s looking at the old abandoned church longer than he’s looking in any other direction. So her assumption was right, that is where he came from.

“I’m Gemma. It’s Wednesday. Stay put.”

Nick turns his head back in her direction. He slumps like he’s lost his fight, exhausted, or has decided whatever he’s worried about doesn’t need worrying about right now. He doesn’t say anything as he lays back down on the floor, giving up his attempts to leave. The shrill sound of an ambulance siren can be heard in the distance.

-

As the ambulance pulls up, accompanied by a police car a dozen feet behind it, the driver of the car finally finds his voice. He’s been standing there for a few minutes, nervously smoothing out his work suit, trying to think of what to say. He speaks fast, trying to get everything out before anyone official gets within hearing distance.

“Listen. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you, okay? You seem fine.” He turns to Gemma. “He’ll be fine, right? Nothing needs to come of this. I’ll just... be on my way.”

“Spineless.” Gemma mumbles under her breath before looking back at him. She may not think the incident was necessarily his fault but there’s a way to handle it and it’s not this. Looking directly at him, eyes cold, she continues, “I don’t think you’re going anywhere mate, the police are right there. They’ll want a word, I’m sure. And look at him. Does he look fine?”

Nick is still laying on the floor, not moving much. It's like the adrenaline and shock have finally worn off, leaving him aching all over, able to feel what just happened to him.

Gemma continues. “And unless you fancy running some more people over, I don’t think driving off in that thing is a good idea, do you? You won’t be able to see anything out of that window.”

The man turns back to his car, noting the huge area of smashed windshield, and runs his hand through his already slicked back hair, uncomfortable. Nick ignores what Gemma has just said and looks at the slightly dishevelled man, mumbling a response, “It’s whatever, man. I have bigger things to worry about.”

Gemma looks to Nick, wondering what those bigger things are. You’d assume it was potential head injury or internal damage from being thrown onto the concrete by a hunk of speeding metal but Gemma doesn’t think so. Nick was concerned about something, being hit by a car wasn’t anywhere close to the forefront of his mind.

Before the man can decide what to do the police and paramedics have closed the distance. The police go straight to him, the medics to Nick.

“Okay then, what do we have here?” Says the commanding voice of a tall blonde woman striding over. She’s carrying a large bag of any potential medical supplies Nick may need immediately and is being followed by a man and a stretcher.

“His name is Nick. He ran out into the road and got hit by a car.” Gemma quickly responds.

“Nick, can you tell me how you’re feeling? Let me take a look at you.” The paramedic bends down to Nick. She checks his eyes and makes a ‘hm’ sound.

“I feel fine.” Nick says while she continues looking him over. He doesn’t sound fine. His voice has gotten weaker the longer he’s been laying there.

“Right, okay,” unsurprisingly, the paramedic isn’t convinced. “We should check you out properly anyway. Getting hit by a car can cause a lot of damage you can’t necessarily see. Let’s get you on this stretcher and then we’ll be right on our way to the hospital, okay?” She says it firmly, it’s not really a question. But Nick doesn’t seem to be in a position to argue anyway.

Gemma stands back while the paramedics get Nick up onto the stretcher and as they walk him the short distance to the ambulance she instinctively starts to follow. No one questions her getting into the ambulance with them and taking a seat, not even Nick, who looks over to her but seems to mostly be in his own world now, thinking about who knows what. Maybe he’s thinking about nothing, in too much of a daze. Or maybe, like Gemma, he’s thinking about the church.

#fear the walking dead #nick clark #nick clark x reader #nick clark x oc #nick clark imagine #troy otto x oc #Troy Otto #Troy Otto x reader #- not going to tag troy again until i get to him actually being in the fic just wanted it to be known that he'll be in it at some point #mine

[jawritter]

If It’s Meant to Be

Part 11

Summary: Bad things happen to good people, that’s just the rule of thumb. But sometimes, things happen for a reason, and that reason is so you can find the person you’re meant to be with…

Pairing: Alpha!Beau Arlen x Omega!Reader

Warnings: 18 + ONLY!!! ANGST!!! SO MUCH FUCKING AGNST!!! Possible suicidal ideations. REALLY BAD CLIF HANGER ENDING, (I’m already ducking from the @’s in my mentions over this one).

Word Count: 2644

A/N: This fic is completely unbeta’d, so all mistakes are mine! Please do not copy my work! Enjoy!

My Masterlist          Series Masterlist

The weight that sat heavily on Y/N’s chest was almost suffocating as they made their way up the driveway towards Beau’s little trailer. Whether or not she wanted to admit it, even to herself, this place still had the same, homey feel to it that it had the night she pulled up to it when Beau was first in rut. 

But even the quaint little homey feel of the atmosphere of the place couldn’t take away from the reality that existed between the Alpha and the Omega that sat in the car as she put it in park. 

Beau, aside from asking to go home when they’d gotten in the car had not said a word, he’d just held his phone in his hand, maybe sending a text message or two to who was most likely Emily, and then just sat there staring out of the window next to him. 

“You don’t have to stay here and watch this,” Beau said suddenly as she killed the engine, and turned slightly to face him. “I’ll make sure I’ll leave a note, so when they find me, they will know it was my call to come back here, and they won't be able to pin anything like neglecting your Alpha on you.”

Y/N sat there with her throat damn near closing in on itself, the crushing weight she’d felt earlier became all that more heavy with the reality of JUST what he’d planned to do. One way or another, whether it be going Feral and the fever killing him, or by his own hand, he didn't plan to live through this. 

“I’m sorry you got pulled into all of this in the first place,” Beau continued. “It was never my intention to hurt you. It was never my intention to ruin your life. It was never what I wanted to do. I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to drag you into this shit with me, and you shouldn’t have to be subjected to sit and watch me die.”

“Beau, no—”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to pretend,” Beau interrupted her as he placed a shaking hand on the door of the car, but this time when she placed her hand on his thigh, he didn’t jerk away. “I didn’t give you a whole lot of reasons to like me. True Mates or not. I can’t ask you to jump in here and fix this. I made this mess. I have to lie down and die in it. It’s only fair.”

“Fuck fair Beau,” she yelled at him, and he flinched back slightly as if she’d burned him. “I don’t give a damn what you deserve, I”m not just gonna let you go into that trailer and die!”

Beau opened his mouth to argue, but grimaced as he instead, bringing his hand up to his head as if to block out some sort of blinding pain, and she instinctively reached to support him as he swayed in his seat. His skin was boiling to the touch, she was pretty sure as the night went, it would only get worse, which did NOT leave them a lot of time to sit there in the driveway to work out their multitude of issues. 

“Come on, let’s get you inside,” she said, jerking the driver’s side door open, and jumping out of the car to hurry up and open the passenger side door. Beau just looked up at her, completely drained and defeated. 

“I mean it Omega go home, you don’t have to stay and watch this,” he pressed, but she just sank down to his level, not missing the harsh smell of rut that suddenly clouded the air between them, making a tense, hard situation that much worse. 

“Listen to me Alpha,” she stated, doing her best to hide all the fear and hurt that was welling up in her voice. She could not show weakness, or else this would never work. Beau bared his teeth slightly at the title, and it did cross her mind that he could snap at any moment, but for some reason, she wasn’t afraid of him, more of the repercussions that might come from them mating again if he rejected her. “You might be a few years older than me and stubborn and bullheaded as hell, but I can assure you, I”m just as stubborn and bullheaded, and I don’t run just because an Alpha wants me too. So get the fuck out of the car and into the trailer, or I will call Jenny, and she can help me drag you out.”

Beau’s nostrils flared, but he said nothing, just clumsily clambered to his feet before making his way up to the deck to the mall, metal framed door. 

She followed along close behind him, determined to make sure he couldn’t hurry through the door and shut it in her face, cause she thought he might actually try that, but he didn’t, he didn’t even bother trying to close the door. He just stumbled into the trailer, and left the door open for her to follow him in, which made her hope that maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t totally given up yet. 

When she got into the trailer, closing and locking the door behind her, she found Beau, sitting on the edge of his bed, with a picture of Emily in his hand, and the family he’d lost. 

She didn’t understand it really, why he still clung to the Omega that didn’t want him, that had clearly rejected him. She didn’t know if it was the child that held him to it, but she wanted badly to pull him out of it. Show him that he still had a good bit of life ahead of him. If he’d just open the fuck up and quiet pushing her away, maybe even with her. 

Even though he’d rejected her, even though he’d hurt her beyond words, she still didn’t have it in her to think that he was a bad guy. For some reason, whether it was an unintentional bond or what, but she had a feeling he was hiding behind a lot of hurt, but she still really had not seen the REAL Beau Arlen, and she just couldn’t give up on him. Something deep inside of herself just wouldn’t let her. No matter how much she wanted to preserve her sanity. She couldn’t leave him here alone to die. 

So she forced her feet to move, and to sit down on the bed next to him. He didn’t even look up at the dip of the mattress, just sighed heavily as he looked down at the photo in his hands. His thick fingers reaching down to trace the photo in his hand as he did so, a drop of dark, red blood fell onto his hand in almost a cruel, poetic gesture. 

“Beau, you need to lay down,” she voiced as she stood to find a tissue or something to clean the blood up that was slowly dripping from his nose, but he just shrugged and whipped it away on his sleeve as if it didn’t matter. 

“Laying down, sitting up, it won't matter either way in a few hours,” he voiced, almost as if their thoughts were connected in some way, and maybe they were, and neither of them realized it. 

“Beau you can’t just give up,” she tried, but he just shook his head and sat the picture back down on his bedside table. 

“DOn’t really have much of a choice do I?” he questioned, looking down at the blood stain that was now on his sleeve. 

“Yes you do,” she argued, and he lifted his gaze to stare at her, his expression and eyes completely unreadable. 

“That what you really want? For me to do what instinct is telling me too? Tie you to me? Hmm? A recovering alcoholic and an Alpha that’s WAY past his prime? Someone with a teenage daughter and an ex-wife, who, as long as Emily is alive, will always be in the picture?” 

He waited, stared her down, but she didn’t budge, the tension in the air almost palpable between them. She knew he was trying to scare her, but for some reason, she wasn’t afraid. Even though maybe she should have been. 

“What about the fact that every day I get up and go into work,” he continued, indicating to his injured shoulder, “that there is a good chance I won't come home alive. Is that something you really, REALLY want to be stuck with? Have you ever seen what happens to an Omega when the Alpha dies, when the bond is broken? It’s not pretty. So no darlin, the way I see it, to keep me from hurting anyone else, dying is the only option I really got.”

“You’re so fucking stubborn,” she said, shaking her head with annoyance. 

“Stubborn, selfish, worthless, drunk… I had someone tell me once that at least I was pretty, so I guess there’s that.”

Y/N blinked at him as if she’d been slapped in the face at his little confession, and even though she was gawking, she couldn’t find it in her to care, because she didn’t know how to slap Beau, or whoever told him something like that.

“Who the fuck told you that?” She finally forced herself to ask, and Beau snorted. 

“Carla,” he admitted, and the anger rose up in her faster than she thought possible. If she had time, she’d probably drive over to her house and beat her face in, but she didn’t think Beau would live that long, so time wasn’t an option, but when this was over, she and Carla were going to have one hell of a come to Jesus meeting. 

“That is such a fucking lie,” she said, and he looked at her as if he was getting tired of this conversation, or maybe he was just deteriorating, and it was getting harder for him to focus. 

“You don’t even know me.”

“Only because you won't let me get to know you Beau! You’ve got these walls up that you think is helping everyone else around you, but all you’re doing is killing yourself! I was more than willing to take ALL of that you said when I drove up here a few days ago! YOU were the one that backed out and brought a fucking plan B pill! I don’t care that you're older than me, I don’t care that you’ve had a pup with another woman. So what, you’ve had drinking problems in the past, who doesn’t have their share of issues. So what, your job is dangerous. Beau, I would have been more than glad that you decided to claim me. But you decided you didn’t want me. Not the other way around. I would have been glad to get to know you. Even the ugly parts you didn’t want me to see.”

Beau said nothing, he just sat there, looking at the floor. She wanted to scream at him more, slap him, kick him, do anything to make him move. Make him save himself. She didn’t know how much clearer she had to be to get him to understand that she was in this for the long hall, because, for some reason she didn’t even understand herself, she just couldn’t walk away from him. 

“If we do this,” Beau said after a moment, “It’s permanent. There’s no going back. There’s no taking it back. There’s no fixing it.”

Y/N said nothing, she just slipped her sweater off of her shoulders, and pulled her hair up into a tighter messy bun. Beau watched, his eyes taking in every movement she made. 

“If I was going to run Beau,” she said as she dropped the sweater on the floor. “Don’t you think I’d have done it by now? I’m not afraid of your job, I’m not afraid of your ex-wife. I’m not afraid of your daughter. The only one that I’m afraid of is you.”

“You have no reason to be afraid of me,” Beau stated, but she couldn’t tell if it was because he was starting to lose it completely, or if it was because he was in pain. “I’d blow my brains out right here before I let myself snap and hurt you.”

“That’s not what I’m afraid of Alpha,” she clarified, and he cocked his head in confusion. “I’m afraid of what your rejection, when you wake up from this rut, and from whatever this fever really is, and figure out again that it’s not what you want, that I’M not what you want, and you pack another pill in here for me to take and send me on my way. I won't live through it this time. It will kill me. That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Beau’s eyes shifted around the room as he shook his head furiously, and she thought that just for a second he was going to tell her to get out. 

“I wasn’t trying to reject you Omega, I just wanted to give you an out if you wanted it. I didn’t want you to be tied to me if you didn’t want to be, and if you didn’t want me, I’d have let you go, but I also did want to deal with another pup I’d never get to see, so I just had it there as an alternative IF and only IF you wanted it. I would have never made you take that pill. It wasn’t a rejection. I was just trying to give you a choice.”

Y/N’s eyes locked with his, desperate to try and read him. Desperate to try and figure out if he was lying to her to save himself. But she could detect no lies in his green eyes that seemed to be getting dimmer and dimmer by the moment. Just pain. A lot of pain. 

“Then why didn’t you claim me?” She questioned directly, and he winced as he tried to sit back against the headboard. 

“Because I didn’t think you wanted me too.”

It was such a simple answer, such a simple little thing, one she never would have thought of in a million years, because what Alpha ever cared about what the Omega wanted in the deal. They just took and took until they got what they needed, and nothing more was ever said about it. That’s why she thought he’d rejected her when he hadn’t claimed her. It was a misunderstanding. One that almost killed them both. One that still might kill him. All because he wouldn't communicate when he needed to the most. 

Y/N was suddenly desperate to save him. Suddenly determined to fix it. Fix what they’d both stupidly broken, when she stood up and moved closer to him, grabbing his hand that was resting on the side of him in her own. His eyes were closed now, and his mouth opened slightly as his chest heaved with every breath he took. His scent was almost suffocating in the confined space. They were running out of time. 

“Then take it Alpha, take what you need, claim me. I’m literally giving you my verbal permission. We can figure out the rest when you live through it. Please.”

Beau forced his head up to look at her that had lulled strangely to his injured shoulder. His face was red. The fever was dangerously high. There was more blood pooling just at the end of his nose, ready to fall at any moment. But he nodded, and tried to sit up, then immediately, as if in some cruel joke by the universe, or maybe both of their own stupidity, his eyes rolled, and his body fell backward onto the bed, limp, and barely breathing. 

To Be Continued…..

Tumblr wouldn’t let me tag it guys, I’m sorry. I’ll try rebloging with the tags later tonight, but honestly I’m not hopeful it will let me. I apologize for any inconvenience this has caused. 

#beau arlen series #buea alren x reader #beau alren x you #beau alren x y/n #beau alren fanfiction #beau arlen fanfic #alpha beau arlen x omega reader #alpha beau arlen x omega you #alpha beau arlen x omega y/n #x reader inserts #big sky fanfiction #big sky fanfic #big sky series #abo dynamics #jawritter #jensen ackles

[padfootdaredmetoo]

can you make one where the reader is a ambitious and smart woman, she knows it would be hard for her as a woman in her situation to get rich without marrying a rich man and she always knew that tommy would achieve great things and become a business man so she promise she will marry him one day and that's exactly what she does. she's younger then him but grew up around the shelby family. from the moment she turns 18 she does her best to make tommy fall in love with her and propose (w/happy ending

Dear Anon,

Thank you for writing. I really struggled with this one (mostly due to current personal issues taking up space in my mind) I can't tell how good it is but I hope that it's what you are looking for! Thank you again for waiting <3

Warnings: Peaky-related violence, hurt feelings, description of not-so-great upbringing

The streets were just like everything else in your life, damp and dirty. You grew up close to the Shelby family, being the same age as Tommy you both fell in despite usually hanging out with different groups of kids. 

His parents were very strange, and not very well accepted among the poor working class. Something you didn't understand at the time. They spoke a different langue, and being desperate for any type of affection you would always sit with his Aunt and try to learn just for something to do. Polly wasn't that much older than them, but to you the whole world revolved around her. 

His mother died, while your mother left. His father left, and yours never put down the bottle. Essentially you all relied on each other and Polly more than anyone else. The only person accepted into the cloud of anger that surrounded you was Tommy. He was hungry and ambitious, even though no one believed him when he said he would bring the family off these streets, you did. More than anything you wanted a spot next to him, away from the suffering. 

There was something about it that made your heart thud in your chest, your eyes go wide as you listened to all of the things he would be willing to do for his family. Things like this did stuff to a young girl's heart and you were no exception. You started to feel comfortable, your time spent riding horses and playing down at the yard, helping with his brothers and sister. 

Childhood never lasted very long, it was unavoidable that these times would come to an end. If not by your father shipping you off to boarding school, it was only a handful of years later that the war took the best boys off the streets of Birmingham to throw them into the trenches. 

Before the train took you away from your found family that late August, Tommy placed a promise on your finger. He said that by the time you’d come home he’d have built a name for the two of you to share. If you were single he’d marry you. Simple as that, you missed how black and white things were at 15. 

Through the war you sent money back to Polly to take care of John's kids, knowing it was just her and Ada handling the responsibilities of a family that size alone, made you long to come home. 

You got letters from Tommy, and you tried your best to make it sound like you were doing fine. In reality, you weren’t seeing the war as he was. Only the broken bloody aftermath. Bleeding flesh and screams. 

____________________________________________________________

Eventually, the war came to pass. With the men home, there were women needing midwives everywhere. This gave you an easy opportunity to transfer anywhere you wanted to for training. You didn't need to give it any thought though. 

You returned by train, just like he had three months prior. Even if you had not directly touched the charred flesh of war, you could tell by his letters that he wasn't the same boy you left behind. 

You weren't the same either. But that didn't mean you didn't want the same thing. Tommy was a warhorse, and you knew that being tied to him would mean a comfortable life, freedom, and it would essentially be like living with your best friend. You just prayed there was some of that friendship left in him. 

Polly was the one to collect you bringing you right to the betting shop. You took the space in with the eyes of an adult for the first time. Listening to her prattle on about where you would sleep and the arrangements she’d made.

“You should keep renting your father’s house out. Too many ghosts there for a young lady. Better all around for you to stick close to us.” She gave you a warm smile and pulled you into a tight hug again. 

“Who’s this then?” Arthur boomed. 

“Burlesque den’s down the street there - love.” John quipped. 

“John!” Polly snapped at him but you only laughed as he pulled you into a tight hug. You punched him in the arm and Arthur pulled you into a tight embrace. 

Tommy entered the room and you felt your center of gravity shift. He came over and gave you a wordless hug. 

“Family meeting needs to start.” He looked around the room and then walked into the back. You responded to Polly’s sour look with wide eyes and a smile. 

Some things didn't change. 

Tommy had more going on that he was willing to share. A detail that was glaring you in the face throughout the meeting making it challenging to pay attention. You’d never watched him lead the family before, but while everyone was ready to fall into place you could feel that Polly was also stuck on the secrets he was keeping. 

“And how can I help?” You finally piped up preventing a fight from starting up. 

“Just get settled in” He dismissed. You breathed a sigh in response as Polly lost her patience. 

The rest of the evening you watched him observing you in his own way. You were crushed by how strange and twisted his presence felt. It was like looking at a painting of someone. His likeness was captured but not his essence.  He wasn't that boy anymore, there was nothing you could do to get his lips to turn up. A heavy sense of dread hung around him only visible in the bags under his eyes. 

You assumed he just needed time to adjust. Until the sharp edges of his newly found claws sunk into your plans. Everyone had magically gotten tired at the same time and left to go wash up for bed.

“I want you home. Esme can't be left unattended, and Polly’s been difficult lately.” He said coldly staring into the fire. The weight of his words hit you like lightning. 

“I didn't come here to work in a betting shop and babysit.” You said coldly. 

“What did you come here for?” His eyes finally met yours, slowly focusing on your face. “To be a part of this family and I -.” He finished before you could speak.

“This isn't a good look for you,” you whispered leaning into his face. 

“Look -” 

You didn't care what he had to say. You knew him well enough to know that he needed time to think about how he had spoken to you. 

Your fists were balled tightly, nasty thoughts started to bite into your bones as you collapsed onto your bed. It distracted you from the pain in your chest. You knew that falling in line was your best shot and winning him over. You thought of the reward that was hanging in the balance, working as a nurse would not provide the life you wanted. 

But being bossed around wasn't what you wanted. You and him were always a team, always equal. Eventually, you fell into a painful sleep, filled with the usual unescapable scenes playing over and over in your mind. 

You had a choice to make and instead of putting on your best outfit as you had planned, you got dressed in your everyday clothes and headed downstairs to help with breakfast. 

“Do you need something to wear? Thought you were going out job hunting?” Polly said putting her cigarette out on an ashtray you had carved for her ages ago. Tommy’s face appeared from behind the newspaper he was reading. 

“Figured I’d settle in with you lot for a couple of days first.” Polly gave you a warm smile, while Tommy gave you a subtle nod. You resisted the urge to slap him, and started in on a piece of toast. 

_______

Two days sitting next to Esme you knew exactly why Tommy didn't trust her. She was flighty and stubborn, her own eyes extremely distrusting. But she liked to laugh and drink, and you were very good at both of those things. 

Tommy seemed to take little notice of your outfits or the jokes you made. You were invisible to him no matter how hard you tried. You showed off how you had reorganized the place, balanced the books, you even fixed the broken lock on the safe. An impossible task, but you did it. To him, it was as if you were telling him it was supposed to rain all week. Nothing. 

It wasn't until his attention was occupied by a blonde barmaid that you realized this was about a lot more than just money. You felt like you had fallen off the side of a building. You made your way down the street to the darkness of your room before falling apart. All the boys you had turned down, all the dances and drinks. All of it because they were fine but they weren't Tommy. 

But why you were caught up on Tommy suddenly had a lot more to do with the time you had shared than the money. You would trade all the wealth in the world to have your best friend back. Older, smarter, always looking out for you, keeping you safe, taking the consequences when plans failed. That’s what you wanted. Money provided comfort in the world, but he had provided you safety. Enough safety to feel at home in a broken family, in a nasty world. 

You finally realized what you had actually been striving for, and felt your ambition turn into desperation and grief. 

You hated your options, you hated the messy feelings attached to everything you did. Staying in the family was still the best option for physical safety and money. Watching him watch the rest of the world would have to be your place moving forward. 

________

Cold hands pulled you from the darkness. Tommy was above you and you placed a hard slap across his face before processing what was happening. 

“The fuck do you want” You hissed, heart hammering. 

“What do you need?” You answered immediately. 

“Need your help.” His eyes were wide and his face was flushed, despite everything the look on his face was enough to push all of it away. He was scared.

“We’ve been betrayed. Someone let slip - Kimber boys are on the way here” 

“Eh, but Esme’s family will help with the beating?” You responded groggily as you tried to string together the limited information you had.

“Nah, Lee boys are still out at Worcester - fucking outnumbered. I don’t know who-” 

“Barmaid.” You whispered. “She’s always there when business is on?” You thought over the last few days, she was never far when they were talking about important things. 

“I kept a close eye on her - but fuck she could have overheard.” His hands slammed down on your dresser in frustration. Hope blossomed in the pit of your stomach, maybe that was the only reason he was interested in her…

“Look what are you hiding? Tell me and we can sort this.” 

“Guns - lots of guns and then-” 

“Wait the ones from the paper? You took them- Fucking hell” You realized the weight of what he’d done. You should have pushed him for answers the second you got there. 

“Who’s Kimber?- Wait to hell with it rally up some street boys and use the guns?” 

“Guns are gone” 

“Fuck” You sighed. “Well, rally the boys up anyway - Small Health Rifles haven't lost a fight yet?” You said weakly. He looked at you for a long moment, and you felt panic wash over you. He was always steady, even more so now than before. But right now you could feel the weight of this mess crushing the both of you. 

You got out of bed and helped get everyone together, digging up guns from every corner of the house. Ensuring that Ada and the baby were far away from what was going to happen. This time when he gave orders you stood next to him.

You sat with Polly in the kitchen, holding her hand and praying. Two shots and the whole thing was over. 

There was only so much day drinking your stomach could handle and you felt yourself relax back at the empty house. Lighting a cigarette and looking out the kitchen window you took a deep breath. 

You still had a decision to make. Tommy wouldn't stop here, and this would be a life of complicated and dangerous affairs. You knew that you should go - you heard footsteps and turned around to see him standing in the doorway. 

“Thought I’d scared you off.” He breathed, relief washing over him. 

“Not yet.” You said quietly.

“I- I’m sorry ‘bout everything. I thought you’d be coming home after all this had cleared up.” He rocked back on his heels looking like a ghost of the boy you once knew. You quickly did the mental math on how many glasses of whiskey he’d knocked back. 

“It’s what I expected.” You shrugged at a loss of what to do or say. “You really don't want me to work then?” 

He let out a long sigh. “Look if you can give me a year I’ll have it sorted.” He pleaded with you. 

“What needs to be sorted? The money is alright and I’m good at what I do.” 

“I know what you want and I’d don’t have it yet. But I’m working on it - work for a bit and then things will – ” 

“Tommy” You cut him off. 

“Just let me fucking explain.” He snapped and you grabbed his hand catching him off guard. 

“You're what I wanted.” You whispered looking up into his blue eyes. He let out a breath unsure of what to do. “The whole time. I just wanted to be next to you.” You searched his eyes full of hope. Hope that he saw you as more than an easy arrangement, or a convenient friend. You knew that if this was just platonic - 

Your mind stopped as his hand cupped the back of your neck. 

“Just me?” He whispered and the hair on your arms stood up as a shiver ran through you. It was too much honesty, too much vulnerability. You gave a nod unable to speak. 

“Not much of me left.” He kept up appearances but you felt the pain in his words. 

“I could say the same about myself.” His eyes narrowed slightly at you as if trying to see what was out of place. “Guess we’ll have to get to know each other -”  But he already knew you, pulling you into a tight grip. Placing his lips on yours. It was feverish and messy, you could feel the life inside him rise to the surface. His hands gripped more than your flesh desperate to grab hold of your heart. 

You felt him pull away grabbing your jaw to keep you quiet. The answer to your question was answered by the sounds of Polly cursing and fumbling in the entryway. He nodded towards the stairs and patted you on the bottom. You quickly made your exit realizing he trying to let you handle this on your own terms, that and Polly would probably beat him for advancing on you drunk in the kitchen. 

“Where did she sneak off to?” Polly said.

“She’s alright, just tired” He responded easily. 

The family all piled in and you spent the night laughing and drinking. Tommy kept you close enough to drive you crazy, but not so much that it was obvious. You watched the victory of the day bring a smile to his face and you were determined to find a way to make everything work. 

That night you got into bed and listened waiting for his bedroom door to close. Once he was in bed you would work up the courage to go and talk to him about everything. 

The day took its toll on you and you drifted off. 

His hand brushed your shoulder and you reached out to grab his neck. 

“Just me, love.” He said softly. You relaxed and felt his fingers run through your messy hair. 

“Someone hurt you?” 

“Lots of things have hurt me.” You breathed relaxing against his touch. 

“They have names?” his fingers slid along your cheek. 

“All of them had names…. faces, minds, families -” You let your voice trail off. He started to realize what you were talking about. “None of them were you though or the boys.” You shifted onto your side and wrapped your body around him. 

“This an invitation?” He mumbled and you wordlessly moved to create space for him to lay down on the small bed. You remembered nights laying next to him trading the fighting at home for the fighting at his house. Your house had the potential of direct conflict with your father, here there were three boys between you and the door.

Now your body was fighting a war between desperation and sleep. 

“You don’t sleep well.” He stated. 

“No, but neither do you.” You moved to cuddle his arm, placing your head on his shoulder.

“You didn't mention much in your letters?” 

“Not a lot of good stuff to mention.” You mumbled trying to avoid the topic right before bed. In time maybe you would talk about it, but you weren't ready yet. 

“Hmm. Any men?” 

“Thomas Shelby” You mock scolded. 

“What! Just want to know if I’ll be beating men off the doorstep every morning.” You knew this light mood was a product of copious amounts of alcohol, but it gave you hope that it was still tucked away in there somewhere. 

“Hardly.” You laughed, then sobered up as you realized what he probably meant. “Not a virgin if that’s what you're asking.” 

“I’m heartbroken. This whole time I’d saved myself. That silly copper ring didn’t mean much did it.” You lifted your head to look at him in disbelief. You were almost certain that he wasn't even a virgin when you were shipped off to school. “I’m joking, love.” 

“Absolute man-whore. I never took the bloody thing off” You pulled the necklace with his ring out from under your nightgown. He fiddled with it watching the street light bounce off of it.

 “If you're serious about this and you even have thoughts about sleeping around” You took a deep breath and pinched his jaw bringing his face to yours. “I’ll kill you myself. Your brothers won’t even avenge you.” 

“Don’t I know it. Probably have to fight them for the shot.” 

You tried to keep a straight face but couldn't hold it together seeing him so carefree. 

“That’s it then” you sighed. 

“Suppose so.” 

“Anything else you want to know?” You questioned. 

“Marry me?” He asked in a more serious tone. 

“You can’t be serious?” There were a million things about you he would need to figure out. Nightmares, anxiety attacks - the list felt endless. 

“Grand proposal and ring will have to wait if that’s what you want.” he interrupted your thoughts. 

“It’s not that. Don’t really care about that stuff.” You were trying to figure out how to explain everything without ruining the mood. 

“Hmm well, we could go to the Church on the weekend.” 

“Tommy there is a lot to know about each other still -” 

“I know you're the same girl, same principles, same crazy morals. The rest is irrelevant, have the rest of my life to uncover it.” 

“I -” 

“Look I’ll wait till you're ready. Just promise me we can give this a shot, eh?” 

“Promise.” You leaned into him and pressed a kiss to his lips. He stopped your advances after a few moments.

“You're drunk.” He said trapping your arms to your chest with his embrace. 

“Am not!” You said while realizing that he was drunk and that you’d best be stopped.

“Fine, I’m a little drunk. I’d like to remember this.” He placed another heated kiss to your lips before kissing your forehead. 

“Love you.” You whispered. 

“Love you too.” He responded easily. 

Sleeping in his embrace was simple. You woke up twice only to feel his heavy arms pull you back down. Something you would enjoy getting used to. 

___________________________________________________________________

Polly notices that she’s always watching Tommy, slightly differently than she used to. So she starts conveniently sending them out together for random things. Soon the whole family is on it trying to get them to spend more time together, hoping that they would get together. They are just happy to be alone so they don't notice at once. Arthur finally starts chewing into him about how he’s leading her on and how he should handle things.

She tells Polly later that night. She came in to bring Polly a mug of herbal tea, sitting on the edge of her bed she tells her. 

Everyone was happy, and a wedding was planned. 

You gave Polly your makeshift ring before the small ceremony. But when the time came you were surprised to find a new set of gold bands. He put a ring on your finger, Romani words you would have to ask about later pressing into your skin, diamond on top4f of your finger. 

Hard times came and went, but even he would admit that the whole lot of it was much easier with you by his side.

#Tommy shelby #thomas shelby #Tommy shelby x reader #Thomas shelby x reader #Peaky blinders #Peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders requests #Shelby family x reader #Shelby family imagine

[the-pale-goddess]

Take Me Home Tonight - Ethan Ramsey x MC

Tiffany doesn’t go on a bender often. But when she does, it’s always a wild ride—especially for a certain grumpy doctor.

Warnings: language, mentions of mature themes (excessive alcohol consumption and its consequences, adult situations)

Rating/category: Teen+ / fluff

A/N: ​Ethan’s reaction to Tiffany saying ‘I have a boyfriend’ when he tries to hug/kiss her because she’s wayyy too hammered @mvalentine ‘s genius ask inspired me to respond with this little thing—thank you, sis, ILY ❤️

My girl is an unpredictable drunk when she goes overboard, so that scenario is right up her alley ksbksbksb I had so much fun while plotting this, and it was really fulfilling to actually write something after a very long drought 🫶 

___

Midnight cloak enshrouds Boston, its thick, smoky darkness is pierced by vibrant lights playing hide-and-seek in the shadows. 

The blurred mass of colors gleaming outside the window steals Ethan’s focus for one split second, then loses miserably against the enchanting figure sleeping on his shoulder in the backseat of a spacious sedan.

A small, loving smile illuminates his face when he peeks at Tiffany curled up to his side. Her make-up remains impeccable, slightly parted lips tease him with his favorite rosy shade, a few strands of shiny onyx locks tickle her cheek as though by design—moderately messy for aesthetic purposes, naturally. 

The only detail betraying her current state is the unmistakable whiff of vodka she must’ve spilled on her black bodycon dress back in the fancy watering hole Lahela has deemed worthy of his approval tonight. 

Still, to him she’s always the most dazzling rose in a vast garden of peculiarity. The river of alcohol coursing through her veins, clouding her perfectly sound judgement and (quite possibly) inspiring madness, could never change that. 

His heart tightens distinctly, clearly pleased that its owner is back where she belongs—in his arms. 

He was helping his dad with a minor house renovation for only three days, certain that the short separation wouldn’t affect him. Those three unbearably exhausting days have proven how wrong he was. How terribly a convert like him can miss another person. 

In a sudden surge of affection, his arm wraps around Tiffany’s sylphlike silhouette, pulling her closer. The gentle brush of his fingers running down her spine makes the bubble of silent adoration burst with no warning.

„Fuck…” Tiffany mutters, her eyes scan the car as she blinks muzzily. „Where are we going?”

„Home.” His warm, steady voice a messenger of a smile, guiding her through the fog of her blurry reality. „Just close your eyes and breathe.”

Tiffany nods, seemingly relieved, her heavy lids follow the directions as if Ethan’s baritone were a spell-casting device. She snuggles closer, purring quietly. 

Unfamiliar with the intricacies of her inebriated mind, he continues the caress, hoping to transfer the comfort she needs through his touch. 

Much to his utter bewilderment, the result is entirely opposite: Tiffany jolts away with a horrified grimace, throwing arms in the air in what seems to be an act of defence. 

„Whoa, whoa…Keep your hands off me!” She fumes, unfiltered rage flashing in her emerald eyes too baffling for a quick assessment. 

At that, the cab driver clears his throat, shooting Ethan with a lethal glare through the rear-view mirror. 

Can this absurd situation get any worse? The answer is always: yes. 

Ethan’s first attempt at damage control is blocked before he manages to even utter her name.

„Tiff—”

„I have a boyfriend!” She interjects harshly, stretching out each word, the offence in her tone as dominant as her determination to keep her drowsy eyes open. „He’s going to freak the fuck out when he finds out some hunk is taking me home.”

Manifesting her panic-induced disgust, Tiffany immediately sweeps away from him. Slack-jawed, Ethan observes her delightfully clumsy moves with barely concealed fascination, unsure whether to laugh or interrupt this drunken performance.

„Some hunk?” Having no time to waste, he chooses the latter, though his question is wholly ignored much like his presence at the moment. 

„I’ll fucking kill Bryce.” She mumbles to herself while rummaging through her sparkly, shell-shaped handbag. 

A wave of relief washes over Ethan; his decision to come back to Boston earlier than planned proves to be one of the best he’s ever made. Her drunken stupor and the effort to act conscious may appear cute, but hammered Tiffany is a disaster waiting to happen and needs to be tackled and protected at all costs. 

Luckily, he knows just the way to escort her to safety. Not without self-sacrifice, of course—the task requires unlimited patience, and that is a virtue Ethan has failed to possess, making years of diligent practice look like an amateur attempt. 

But he’s always willing to be patient for her. Even if her liquor-fogged mind plays a nasty trick on him. 

„What are you doing?” He frowns in puzzlement just when she takes out her phone and waves it in front of his face, dangerously close to breaking his nose in the process. 

„Calling my man.” 

The nonchalant announcement is followed by furious tapping and swiping, lip-biting and a string of muffled curses. Then, eventually, Ethan’s pocket lights up and a loud ringtone conquers the comically threatening silence hanging between them. 

The sound confuses Tiffany even further, twisting her angelic features yet again. 

„Uhh, why is your phone ringing?” Her furrowed brow and narrowed eyes almost push Ethan over the edge, but he manages to suppress a grin and maintains his infamous poker face.

As collected as a world-beating diagnostician delivering the final diagnosis to his patient, he sighs heavily before revealing the truth to his plastered girlfriend. „You’re calling me. I am your man.” 

Predictably, his empty assurance is not enough to convince the ever stubborn Miss Addams. 

With a shake of her head, she corrects him, each word separated by unintentionally suspenseful pause as she weighs the meaning behind them. „No, no, Ethan is in Providence.” 

„No, he isn’t—not anymore.” The corners of his mouth quirk up, but she’s too distracted by her unreliable senses to notice the slight change in his demeanor. „You’d have known if you had checked your messages in the middle of wreaking havoc with Scalpel Jockey and Varma.”

At last, her scattered attention shifts to Ethan; curious eyes investigate his face despite the odds far from being in her favor. The conclusion she comes to, however, seems to be in his: she looks him up and down, something akin to recognition softens her expression, the glint of fondness in her eye making his lips twitch.  

Nevertheless, Ethan prepares for another plot twist, half-expecting an inventive panoply of slurred insults. Instead, Tiffany crawls back to him, holding his gaze with tangible intensity, her boozy grin widening his smirk effortlessly.

„Well, you certainly sound like him.” She admits, the tone of her voice still rather unconvinced. Her dense lashes flutter at him for a long, hypnotizing moment, as if searching for something only her brilliant, intoxicated mind can access. Then, merely a second later, she ducks lower to nuzzle his neck. „But you smell different.”

Ethan can’t hold his unassuming amusement any longer; he lets out a laugh, intent to ignore the arousing sensation of her skin against his. „I forgot my cologne, so I chose to use the one aunt Dina gave me last Christmas.”

She giggles in tune, her slender fingers now dragging along his beard with newfound adoration, piercing emeralds half-shut as she pulls his face close to hers. 

„Never wear it again.” Her whisper dives right in his mouth, their noses pressing against one another, lips all but brushing. „It smells like a suburban dad going through a mid-life crisis.”

„Duly noted.” He responds, putting everything at risk by tucking a stray lock behind her ear and letting his hand rest on her neck. „It’s Alan’s signature fragrance now anyway.”

Tiffany doesn’t flinch, which is undeniably a good sign, even if she doesn’t seem to listen to what he says. 

„I’d still let you fuck me, you know.” She blurts out confidently, perhaps a tad too loud, absolutely unashamed by another glare from the concerned driver. 

The ride takes a turn Ethan has definitely seen coming, but it doesn’t make anything easier for him. He draws in a deep breath, his fingers now freely raking through her voluminous hair. „We’ll get back to the matter when you’re sober.”

Her gaze meets his and the air instantly thickens, the overfamiliar fire erupting for just a second before Tiffany rolls her eyes in surprisingly well-received defeat. „Fair enough.”

Regardless of her reaction, the troublemaker minx in her cannot be underestimated, and Ethan is soon to be reminded of that fragile piece of information. 

„Want to know a secret?” Her alcohol-induced seriousness takes charge, unabashedly flirting with him when Tiffany wets her lower lip. He nods, following the sinful flick of her tongue, but remains fully alert. „I’m gone. Far gone.”

The confession elicits a generous scoff leaving his mouth despite his best effort to keep his saint-worthy composure. „That’s hardly a secret, Tiffany.” 

A peal of her melodious laughter fills the confined space, its rich sound—his favorite sound—almost reassuring their third wheel that whatever is happening between the middle-aged grump and his gorgeous, well-oiled companion is fully consensual.

She pats his shoulder, laughing like there’s no splitting headache rushing to behead her promptly. „You really are my boyfriend.”

„A shocking discovery, but I’m glad I managed to pass this rigorous test.”

The mockery is greeted with a sloppy kiss, her starved lips crashing into his with irresistible force, finding the perfect rhythm almost instantly. His strong hand travels to the nape of her neck, keeping her steady as she melts into him, allowing him to taste the night. 

Her small hand wandering down his belt brings the blissful moment to a halt. 

„Give me your hand.” She orders, and he complies as if under duress, watching her guide him under the sleek fabric of her dress, smoothly gliding up her inner thigh. 

He’s convinced that his willpower is stronger than the temptation, though Tiffany makes it unfairly hard to follow his own rules. 

„Here’s another secret: I’m wearing underwear. Like the good girl that I am.” Exulting in the achievement that is rendering Ethan Ramsey speechless, Tiffany bites her lip provocatively, moving his hand between her legs to provide proof. 

He quickly gathers himself, almost choking on his own words. „It’s bold of you to assume that this flimsy lace is going to grant you a place on the nice list.”

„Come on.” She pleads, her excitement inspired by a sudden outlandish idea helps Ethan’s cause; her hands fall on his shoulders just when his own is set free. „Tell me I’m your good girl.”

Ethan scoffs internally. She’s not a girl anymore, and certainly not a good one. But at that precise moment, staring into his soul while battling the urge to pass out on him, she might as well be anything she wishes to be. 

She’s everything to him. 

He strokes her cheek with utmost gentleness, an impish smile exploding on his face. „You’re my good girl.”

Incredibly pleased to hear the praise, Tiffany sighs happily, throwing herself into his embrace. „Did you come back earlier because you missed me too much?”

„Something of the sort.”

She cosies up to Ethan, whispering I missed you like crazy against his shoulder. His arms offer a shelter from the overwhelming sensations attacking her tired body. 

„You should get used to this. I drank so many shots I’ll probably die tonight.”

„No, you won’t.” He assures, brushing her face with the back of his hand. This time, his caress is most welcome. „I’ll take care of you and your colossal hangover in the morning.”

„Can you start now and stop the world from spinning? Your handsome face is…Blurry. As. Fuuuuck. No wonder I didn’t recognize you.”

„Close your eyes and think of the bed. We’re almost there.”

„Almost there.” She parrots, leaning into Ethan’s touch like a spoiled kitten, then lets out a long yawn. 

„Almost home.”

His addition sobers Tiffany for a second. „But…I am home.”

Her watery gaze finds his as she takes his hand and pecks on his wrist. „You’re my home.”

Flooded with sheer affection, Ethan’s chest rises and falls to the beat of her content heart, the irreplaceable feeling spreads like a soothing warmth of a life-affirming summer breeze.

He plants a soft kiss on her temple, his adoring smirk an invisible imprint of his devotion on her skin. „And you are mine.”

The brightest smile beams across her plushy lips in the most sincere reply. Her eyes slam shut again, and this time she doesn’t put up a fight to stay awake. 

Just as Tiffany slowly drifts off again, only two blocks away from their apartment, she begins to hum a well-known melody, slurring the lyrics with only one of the lines coherent enough for Ethan to decode.

To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die.

______

A/N 2: If you made the connection between the fic title, the song Tiff drunkenly hums and E&T—I’m going to name my dog children after you kdhkdhdkb 🥰

Thank you for reading, hope you’ve enjoyed these two! ❤️

#ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #open heart #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart fanfiction #fluff and nonsense #i didn't proofread this #dr ethan ramsey

[mibeau]

[Book Review] Not Here To Stay 🕊

🧮 Score: 4.5/5.0

■ When I first bought the book, it was due to my attraction to its cover design and the synopsis. I was intrigued to find out how the author will play out or interweave the fantasy realms with our Malaysian culture and beliefs. And the deliverance is beyond my expectations. Honestly, I was looking forward to reading fantasy adventure and not melodrama. But, as I read on, I put myself in Amani’s shoes. It started to feel like I was underwater, everything was so dreamy, and Amani kept getting drawn into her thoughts and not fully engaging with reality. So, time, as in plots, almost standing still. I kept going in circles. I remember thinking, was the author purposely doing this to prolong the novel with unnecessary fillers?

Until something nudged her. Triggered her combative personality/attitude. That was when the adventure began. Her quest give me the vibes of “The Divergent Series” collided with “The 13 Charms Trilogy”.

■ The book is divided into three parts. A few pages into the reading, we can sense Amani's moody aura. Like someone who has been scarred and full of rage inside, yet, kept a poker face. Throughout Part One, you can feel the cloudiness and heaviness of her surroundings. And when she’s interacting with other characters or situations, the narration is dreamy. Slowly, although it was still hazy by the middle of part two, the heavy cloud has been lifted. Her mind’s getting sharper, and ultimately in Part 3, the air is clear, and we(Amani) can breathe easily again. It’s like we didn’t realise that we were wheezing this whole time, to stay alive. Moving forward, Amani acquired a freshened thought process with no blockages. I enjoy and appreciate these transitions.

There were too many realistic scenes, to be specific, the locations and the abuses. I thought to myself, this cannot be loosely based on real events, it must be a true story, altered with fantasy realms to make it fiction. To send the message out. And my doubts were answered in the Author’s note at the end of the main plot.

■ When it comes to the fantasy world and its descriptions, the narrative was not as eloquent as the emotions poured. I wasn’t properly immersed and teleported there. It keeps pulling me to bits of many books/films I have read and watched before. The Cloud’s Castle reminded me of bits of “Doraemon: The Kingdom of Clouds”, Kira and her child reminded me of the changeling folklore, the worldsmiths’s systems and bureaucracy reminded me to “Harry Potter” plus “Jumper”. Maybe, slightly, “I am Number 4”. It’s all over the place. But, overall, it worked.

The mystical elements are brilliant metaphors for our states of mind, how they are managed and how they affect our actions and reactions. It is true in most occasions, care alone is not enough. Reminders alone are not enough. It needs the right tools and methods to resolve the entanglements. To convey the validations or clarifications of things we subconsciously know and misunderstand. Bottled feelings are never a good thing. It is a ticking bomb. Its eruption is destructive. (SPOILER ALERT: in this book, the feelings were literally bottled! Haha, amazing!)

Amani’s conversations with Najmi, especially in Part Two, were really therapeutic. In Part Three, the plot twist was a surprise, a good one.

■ The book is written in time jumps. Back and forth is totally fine. I enjoyed it, as much as I enjoyed “The Witch of Portobello” by Paulo Coelho. However, I just don’t think the “plus-minus” of “day counts” at the beginning of every chapter was necessary. It distracted me and caused confusion. So after 10 chapters in, I stopped bothering with it. And start gauging the time period based on contexts. . ■ In gist, it is a journey to recovery and closure. It is melancholic with sparkles and deliciously filling quotes. The metaphors were blended seamlessly. I am 100% impressed. High applause for this book. If you want to see things from the lens of a depressed, grieved person, I recommend you to watch a Kdrama titled: Daily Dose of Sushines. If you want to be in their minds instead, you must read this book. Highly recommended!

■ A playlist to keep you company and immersed in emotions.

---

● Get the book here: BookCafe.com.my . --- *To read other versions of this review, please visit:

IG: reviewbuku_ichamica . FB: Reviu Buku Icha . --- Follow me on Telegram for quick updates!

#not here to stay #NF Afrina #Malaysian author #healing novel #book review #recommended reading

[jacketlady]

I know I'm speaking to the void, but I can't sleep, and I know I will never stop thinking about it. It's a good place to get my thoughts out there, and those who know will know. Forgive me if it's scattershot.

I just really miss my old online friend right now, and it kills me inside to this day that I may never know what happened to them. I've been facing a lot of personal familial losses this year, and thus I keep getting reminded of this one in particular. I've tried "moving on", but I don't know if I ever fully will. I've been quiet about it for a while, but I need to get it off my chest.

It's true what they say in that you never know when the last time you talk to a person is - it just happens. Just like I didn't think that night on Animal Crossing: New Horizons would be the last time we'd play online together.

It was funny - what happened. They had asked me what some of my favorite villagers were, and among my long list, I accidently mistyped Cheri, when I meant Cherry (the goth dog girl with a sisterly personality). They were excited and asked if I wanted them to move Cheri into my town (since they had her), and I was delighted and said yes! I realized as it happened that it wasn't Cherry, and was, in fact, Cheri (she's a red bear cub with a peppy personality - I know, it's confusing). But I didn't correct them, and I didn't say anything to the contrary. I was grateful I got to have one of their villagers in my town. In the end, I was just so happy I had someone to play Animal Crossing with and that I made a new memory with a friend there. And best of all, I had the chance to get to know a new villager that I hadn't had in any of my previous towns before.

After we stopped playing that October night of 2021, (God, has it really been nearly 2 years?), they were getting a new job and said they may not be as active. Which is fine you know, life stuff happens! Messages were sparce, but they were still there for a bit.

Their very last message I received was them being excited about having Takis and a clementine over their lunch break. We were catching up. Nothing strange or unusual, just a fun little thing they wanted to talk about in their free moment.

I didn't know that would be the last I had heard from them.

I thought that they were just busy those last few days when they couldn't talk. I left pebbles for them - funny memes I thought they'd like and pretty pictures of clouds I found so they could see them when they got the chance. Again, it was October, and Halloween was fastly-approaching. I was so excited to show them my Beetlejuice costume I threw together for Halloween, and get them caught up to speed on my D&D session that night! But I didn't hear anything back yet.

Hallows Eve, I find out that all of their Tumblr blogs and online accounts are gone through their mutual friends, and that they vanished without a trace. No word on why they were leaving - just gone. I didn't even know until it was too late. That time that I thought they were just busy, in actuality, they disappeared in that absence. Unfortunately, it takes a while for Discord to show that a user has deleted their account.

I know I naturally want to blame myself and think that maybe I did something wrong to make them leave, but I know that isn't true. All the things I wish I could have said and done, had I'd known they'd leave, plauge my mind at times. I'll always have hunches as to why they left, but I don't know the truth. I realize that I'll never know the reality of the situation unless they come back online. I just hope that they're okay and that their life is going well. I hope that they finished their Animal Crossing town and got it just the way they wanted. I hope that they finished, or are at least continuing, their writings in their spare time. I hope that they are continuing to make their awesome artworks to this day - whatever it may look like. Whether it's the original characters and sculptures they made, or Beetlejuice, or Doc Ock, or maybe even their spidersona since the new Spiderverse came out (they're probably on that Spiderverse kick, let's be real). I hope that they are achieving their goals and doing what they love to do, and I hope that they find peace and happiness - they deserve it.

These days though, I can't help but find myself even more worried for them. After all this heinous anti-LGBTQ+ shit that's going on right now, and knowing about the context of their unfortunate family situation, I hope that they are safe more than anything. God, I hope so.

It's hard to play Animal Crossing now after their absence, but when I do, I go and visit Cheri. I even planted an orange tree in front of her house, since I know how much they liked clementines, and I think of them. As a veteran Animal Crossing player, I understand why the old feature of villagers moving away suddenly was supposed to reflect how people you love and came to know would sometimes just leave. But I'm glad I can be a little selfish with the new game in that - even if I don't play the game as much anymore, Cheri will always be there for me to visit. I'll always have a little reminder of them.

I love you friend, I will never forget you, and I wish you all the best. Thank you for being a part of my life, even though probably it wasn't as long as we'd like. Thank you for all of the laughs, the meme exchanges, the silly sketches and drawings, the youtube viewings, the late nights on animal crossing, the deep talks at 2am, and so on. I will always cherish all of the things we did together and will never forget them. I wish I could hear from you again, but I also understand that I may not. Please know you are dearly loved by many and are very, very missed.

#i miss Grape #animal crossing #beetlejuice #doc ock #spiderverse 2 #grief #loss #friendship

[kuhatoarchive]

this was it — they stood at the precipice of the world's end. meteor swarmed overhead, sephiroth awaited them at the planets core, countless lives have been lost along the way... and yet, where one would expect trepidation and fear? cloud found peace. there was something so freeing about only having two possible outcomes. either they made it, or they didn't. but it was this that mattered, being able to stand face to face with the possible destruction of all and still having it in him to say no, to refuse to accept it, knowing that he would fight no matter what.

it took him too long to see it, to really get it... but cloud? he wanted to live. he wanted to protect those he cared so much for, to one day pay back all the love and sacrifices made for him that got him to where he was now.

he was cloud strife. he wasn't a great mercenary. he was never SOLDIER. he'd never been that great of a person, really, if you asked him. he'd always just been... himself.

and that was enough.

this time? he does not hesitate to hold her hand. long past was the time of his pride and shame holding him back - the eyes that look into tifa's? gratitude incarnate. maybe they never really knew each other before life threw them on these train tracks, strangers to both themselves and each other...

but cloud wouldn't change a thing now.

"thank you. for everything. for never giving up on me."

best read while listening to "together" by nine inch nails /jk

  unprompted.   ♡  * always accepting !  @vctlan.

   premonitions—vague hunches they were—had never denied her, even if she postponed their acknowledgement. but today, sitting here, the air shy from lukewarm and the night sky star-littered, she feels a stab of mortification like a thrill that courses old pathways within her: she can’t imagine the end, whichever outcome that may be, and from it stems a numbness she could have mistaken for peace in any other situation. 

   everything, even herself, feels up in the air, the same way the highwind looms over. placid. waiting.

   tifa wonders how she doesn’t gasp or retch or sob as her body struggles to contain the paradoxical truth. that, as it stands, they are as alive as they are dead. she holds the feeling against herself, keeping it there, beating; this is life. this is proof that she has come this far, that the memories were worth it, that the stars are watching how hard they have fought, and will still. it’s the most fear she has ever felt, and she’s glad she survived to be able to. 

   above all, she’s glad cloud is here. if some don’t return, if none of them do, she thinks she can bear anything having him beside, holding onto the hand that reaches for hers. she feels every bit of herself gather at the touch, half-afraid she is imagining it. no… gone is the time of mirages. his gratitude is true and his own and it holds her in place, thinking, there isn’t a world where he’s worth giving up on.

   his words set her free, somehow. their simplicity and earnestness. the steady hold of his gaze and the sureness of his grasp. it fits into the broad scheme of her consciousness like a tessellate, safekept to invoke before the final battle along the images of her family, nibelheim and its townsfolk, aerith, their crew, all the people she met in her time at sector 7 or her travels. a constellation.

   “...it’s because you never stopped fighting your way back.” to us. to me. it’s not hiding if she knows he gets her meaning by now. it’s tucked, too, in the creasing of her eyes, a smile forming. “after all that has happened… there’s still fight in you. it... makes me give it my all, too. i should thank you for that, leader.” another tifa might have figured her sigh would be a prelude to tears. instead, she chuckles, a small, brief sound to accompany her attempt at lightheartedness. 

   another hand rises to cup the one she holds, placing it atop his. her breathing is different now. quiet. her mind oscillates between reality and dream. hope, perhaps. “...we’ll be okay.” 

   against the beginning and end, in whatever order they may come.

#vctlan #ic: ask. #verse: main. #did anyone try the resilience in the face of the unforseeable i thought the resilience in the face of the unforseeable was lovely

[cursivebloodlines]

"It's just wrong enough to make it feel right" - for logan (once again, a few that could've fit)

Frozen like a statue, even the devious smirk on his face lingered an extra few seconds more than they should have. Reality would set in soon enough. His face mere inches away from hers once again, his fingers dancing across her waist, a playful prelude where he was about to tickle her...he stilled. It was like pressing the pause button on the remote, remaining in the moment for as long as they could in their little fantasy world. Keep the framed picture perfect before hitting resume. Before their little fantasy ended.

Silence. Logan met Danielle’s words with silence. Brows pulled together, faint lines etching themselves between them; he couldn’t meet her eyes just yet. The words swirled around in his head, wondering if he had heard her right. Just wrong enough to make it feel right.

“Wrong?” He repeated the singular word, seeking clarification in her statement, the playful gleam in his eyes clouding over by the horror of her words sinking in as he reluctantly met her eyes. Reality hitting him at full force, their close proximity suddenly unbearable. Their bubble burst.

Logan finally pulled back, so he was looking at her, properly looking at her this time. “…Just wrong enough.” He didn’t know whether to be fuming at her or…hurt. A joke or hurtful truth? Whether it was confusion that made him feel empty or the weight of her words hollowing him out. He felt like a naïve child with an immature crush picking at petals from a delicate flower: she loves me, she loves me not. She loves me, she loves me not. The other day, she loved him. Today? She loved him not? More…focused on it being “wrong enough” to justify their connection.

If she had only been joking, then why did it feel like he’d just been stabbed through the heart again? He couldn’t be surprised if it had been too good to be true. After all, she had let him down time and time again. Now he was technically unavailable – he still had to call things off with Natalie. It wasn’t like he was purposely leading her on, but he was not exactly seeking her out to end it either. It was like he was waiting… waiting for a sign that he’d made a mistake with Danielle. Whether she would change her mind about this, about them.

Maybe he had been right after all. Such simplicity in words could have been perceived as a joke. But it stung. Maybe it was the pang of guilt finally picking at his veins like a woodpecker. The guilt that someone in their situation would end up hurt… maybe it was his own personal karma for indulging in his pre-existing feelings for Danielle whilst his heart was supposed to have belonged to another. Someone who didn’t deserve this. Maybe a culmination of everything. All he knew was that it felt like someone had hit their foot on the accelerate button, and they were careening across the edge of a cliff, dangling on the precipice of ruin and destruction.

“I…” Logan struggled for words, his mind a whirlwind of puzzled, conflicted emotions. Couldn’t wrap his mind around it, the anguish her words caused him making absolutely zero sense to him. “This shouldn’t feel wrong to you, Dan,” he finally uttered after a moment, completely perplexed by it all. About the possibility, of what she could have meant. “Is that why you wanted me? It feels so wrong because you believe you’re like… like a mistress? Is that what arouses you and has you waking up in the middle of the night in a sweat?” Bitterness laced in his words, the taste of pain on his tongue. Logan despised how crude it sounded; he had never spoken to her like that before. It sounded wrong. That’s what felt wrong. But he couldn’t separate his feelings, the shock had eroded his filters. “Is that really how little you think of yourself? How little you think I value you? You think that’s all you are to me? My dirty little secret?” He almost laughed at how stupid that sounded, wanted to laugh at how the thought made him feel sick. He couldn’t even pretend; the way he tried to joke and laugh about the first time he confessed his love for her when he got rejected.

No regrets. That’s how it was meant to be. Was he having regrets now? Was she?Logan wasn't sure he knew anything anymore.

SPEAK NOW PROMPTS | Accepting.

@overnightheartbeats

#overnightheartbeats #i'm upset #logan x danielle #muse ;; logan chadwick #logan chadwick ;; memes #overnightheartbeats ;; danielle

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

I don’t know if you have said you won’t talk about the T & Miss J situation. If you did forget this ask. If not what do you think about both company doing nothing about it? Or are they doing something behind the scenes? Until last night i was still thinking i really don’t give a f about them. But now the talk on the street is someone got into her cloud and that’s how they got the pictures. And now i think it’s frightening for someone anyone really do be on the receiving end of something like that.

I hope they are ok more importantly that she is Ok cause it’s her privacy that has been made public, it’s her cloud. Mr T to an extent cause he is in the pictures but for me i couldn’t bring myself to worry about him. But her i feel for her and it seems like it’s not the first time.

And if in a cruel world all this shenanigans is like a pr stunt or something ���

T & Miss J, that sounds like a drink name, lol. No, I have no policy on not talking about this, I actually answered a few asks last week when the leak rumor started.

As to the companies approach and their current public silence on it, this is how I see it. Concerning the breach of privacy and hacking someone's IG account or iCloud (it's still not sure what is the origin of the photos), YG is the company that could make a statement because this concerns Jennie, the idol under contract there. Her account was hacked. But just because they haven't said anything, it doesn't mean nothing is being done. Fans shouldn't expect instantly to be in the loop in regards to this issue and how it's handled. Since this is no longer just a mere dating rumor, but something much more serious, perhaps the approach is different. Fans trending hashtags on twitter and demanding a public response is certainly out of concern, but it's also for their peace of mind because they the fans feel the need to know that something is being done. But since they're not in they haven't gotten a response yet, it might translate for them as the company doing nothing to protect its artist. At the same time, the leaks started last week with gurumiharibo posting the photos with their own watermark, but now it escalated, so it does make me wonder why that person was still able to do what they want and still wasn't stopped somehow after so many days. It's a sketchy situation and everyone thinks they have their answer, but at this point, the reality is that we simply don't know.

As to the fans reaction, I think it's quite interesting what's happening. They spent days (some of them are still doing it), making threads to debunk the photos, calling themselves photoshop experts to prove the photos of Tae and Jennie are fake. Of course focusing primarily on proving they are not dating, more than on the aspect of this being a harmful breach of privacy that could lead to the leaking of other personal information, which in my view, is the biggest concern. But now that photos of Jennie with Rose in NY and a mirror selca with Jisoo were also posted, there is a shift in conversation because I guess they are finally allowing themselves to realize that this is way more serious than someone editing photos of Tae and Jennie to fuel a dating rumor. I haven't seen anyone trying to prove the Jennie and Rose photo is fake, that someone took photos of them separately and edited them together. Everyone simply acknowledges it's them. So this points to the actual problem fans had up until now, which was simply not wanting to acknowledge that two people are dating. The more they denied that, the more photos kept leaking. As fans that call for the protection of Tae and Jennie, unfortunately their priorities in the beginning were those of typical stans who cannot accept even the possibility of them being in a relationship. So now it lead to this point.

Hybe doesn't need to make any statement, unless they want to publicly acknowledge that the dating rumor is true or not, which then again, it's not something that is mandatory. Not saying anything could mean different things, especially compared to their approach towards dating rumors in general, which were quickly denied. They are not doing it now, especially since it's way bigger than some article on Pann based on imaginary lovestagram. So perhaps they simply don't want to get involved or Tae himself doesn't want for any statement to be made. We can't possibly know. My point is, fans demanding Hybe to speak up about the leaks of Jennie's photos is not realistic because it concerns an artist from another company.

The situation is still unfolding and everyday now, something else may come up, which is a scary thought. I feel sorry for Jennie because someone hacking a phone and reveal private photos is not something that anyone wants, especially in the context of the world to see. I hope something gets done as soon as possible and as much as I wish this could be a learning lesson for those who are first and foremost more concerned about their idol dating and not about how that information got out, but I'm not getting my hopes up.

#bmt asks #kpop dating rumors #tae and jennie

[brainworms-all-night-long]

>Makes my first ever oc that is still lacking a name

> Halfway through coloring realizes I basically made Ashikai into a Genshin character on accident

>Drops it on the internet anyway

>Refuses to elaborate further

Vision story/good old tragic back story:

___ trained with her best friend for as far back as she could remember, with their bond growing ever colser trough growing stronger in combat, until one fatefull day ___ received a Vision making the duo absolutely hyped and proud of how far have they come on their journey together at first. It only had to mean that the gods have knowledged it and deemed them worthy of their attention and praise!

That was, until it started to spark jelaousy from my the friend that felt unjustifiably left out and overlooked despite having put just as much passion and dedication into his training as ___ yep keeping it under wraps and his mouth shut, as not be seen as jealous prick.

But the sudden reality of having almost every person in his life turn their attention towards ___ for her 'by god's noticed ambition' did not help the situation.

Trying her hardest but always either proving her friend's point or not wording herself correctly, it only made the rift between the friends worse as ___ was only met with anger and distain from the other.

___ never percieved her friend as lesser or incompetent because of a lack of a Vision. But the damage overtime seemed to be too big to repair.

Their final confrontation has unwantingly escalated into a fear and hatered filled battle between the once ever close frinds. 'Let's see if you're really worthy of that power more than me!!' Were the last words ___ remebers from the other before falling back purely onto her instinct and muscle memory to survive an unwarranted duel to death. Seeing as they both were admirably skilled fighters the battle was indeed a sight to behold.

All of that before the other's blade falls to the ground, followed by the rest of his body. ___ heard him mutter something, but too horrified at what has happened her mind was clouded while her body moved on its own. Feeling the only possible course of action at the moment was to run away. Run away as far as possible and never return.

Perhaps a Vision is not as much of a blessing as people like to call it.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-•-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

The "___" being a placeholder for the character's future name

#ragefilled duel with the person that was once close to me #genshin impact #here I go making aradom OC #i also have a feeling she has kinda diluc vibes #but I belive i made everything around the different enough in other aspects #to be considered original #i dedass was colloring the (almost) full body drawing when I finally realized why she looked familiar #i accidentaly drew ashikai #i can't with myself anymore #i really wish to work on this more but I fear my brain and motivation will not allow me to #at least not for a long time to come #genshin oc #original character #nameless swordswoman #she will have a name soon I promisse #digital art #mah art

[evcryopeneye]

@meteoraine asked: [ 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐦 ] : sender has killed someone who threatened the receiver. // Yuffie

Her shuriken was embedded in the upper branches of a tree despite the fact it had been thrown with precision and true aim. To the untrained eye it almost looked like it had passed right through the person, but Yuffie knew better. No, whoever that was had good training, and that was enough to make her uneasy. It was easy to fight people who had never seen the inside of Wutais temple. More often than not they didn’t really understand what was happening, it made it hard to mount an effective counter and Yuffie could usually end something before it really got started. 

Not this time. 

A sharp motion behind her pulled a scream from her chest that was cut off the moment she hit the grass. Her training told her to move, still she only got one hand planted on the ground and one knee up before the next knock the ground pushed all the air from her lungs. Honesty, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been winded, maybe as a kid? Who knows. Wasn’t important. What was important was trying to get herself out of this mess but that was easier said than done. 

The weight pinned on her back made it difficult to move, hell, it made it more than difficult to draw breath. Escaping was the only thought on her mind, and even that seemed preempted.  A hand on the back of her neck rendered twisting herself into blindsiding her way out of this impossible for just about the first time ever. Oh. No. That was scary. The reality of the situation was that there was a good chance Yuffie wasn’t in that much danger, time had a tendency to dilate when she was panicking. A second or two felt like minutes or deprived air and adrenaline. 

And then…as sharp as it had started, it stopped. Without thought she scrambled, a panicked survey of her surroundings, smell of blood on the air, splashed across her skin and the ground, and blonde.  Wait. “Cloud?” His name was a question, small, quiet. For once she sounded her age, but it was hard not to when you were terrified. Not of him, why would she ever be scared of Cloud? No. Of the dead guy on the floor.  

#&&char: yuffie #meteoraine #tw: canon typical violence