#and even just his crush on tommy delivered so much on that maybe for the first time since s1 to this degree

[epiphainie]

i think one of the reasons why i'm so giddy about how buck's infatuation with tommy has been played by the show is because i want buck to be stupid in love with someone again. like i'm not gonna pretend buck being bi and with a man now is not an allure in and of itself, this fandom has always been dominated by mlm shipping so idk why that's thrown people's way like an accusation, but personally i, the number one fan of how buck looks when he affectionately kisses someone and how he watches them when they're talking and how he strokes their hair just casually and how he goes out of his way to just adore them, want to see him be insanely in love again. it's been soooo long since abby and like i didn't even care about that relationship that much but i literally tear up thinking about how much he loved abby sometimes, man, like just the way he loves, you know? and i wanna see that again, fuck, because while it's controversially if bucktaylor doesn't have any fans i'm dead yadda yadda here on my part, we haven't seen buck be sooo infatuated and adoring with her like he was with abby and he couldn't have that with ali, natalia, or lucy either and goddamn i just want to see buck be in love again

[ghcstao3]

(part 1 part 2)

-

It takes Simon well over a week to first make use of John's phone number.

And not even because he's too busy—he’s just nervous. Like a goddamned teenager fawning over a crush and being overly conscious of everything he does; Simon is surprised his thumbs don't fall off the amount of times he types and deletes messages he thinks to send.

Eventually, though, he’s offered no choice when he holds out his phone to his brother to ask if his simple Hey, it’s Simon :) is a good starting message, and Tommy just reaches out and presses send before Simon can stop him.

Simon scowls at Tommy. “Bastard,” he musters through gritted teeth. He looks look back down to his phone and feels his heart stop as the delivered indictor pops up.

“No more than you,” Tommy replies impassively. He already has his back turned, more concerned with anything other than Simon and his issues. He waves a dismissive hand. “I’m getting sick of your whinging.”

“I never—“

Simon’s phone buzzes in his hand, and the rest is history.

Weeks later and Simon finds himself regularly anticipating messages from John, between gigs and practices and everything else. It’s how he starts, continues, and ends his days—and it’s honestly concerning how much Simon misses this almost-stranger after such little time.

Though, he supposes, John is much less a stranger these days with the sheer amount they text—not that Simon would ever like to admit to that number.

Unfortunately not much can come from it, however. Simon gets further away every time they travel and he never knows when they’d be close again, if ever. And once weeks turn to months, Simon is certain he wouldn’t be seeing John again.

Or so he thinks. Because apparently John is full of surprises.

Because of course he is—though maybe Simon should have been a bit more observant of his brother and Beth’s odd behaviours as of late, instead of being so wrapped up in John.

Then, he might’ve seen this coming. Though, that being said, he wouldn’t complain either way.

It’s the day after another show, and Simon is still squirrelled away in his hotel room despite the late morning hour. His muscles still ache satisfyingly from the evening prior, and he expects to spend the rest of his day doing little else other than relaxing and messaging with John.

As is the new typical.

But John, uncharacteristically, hasn’t responded since directly before the band’s performance. Simon frowns when he rolls over to see an empty screen when there’s a knock on his door.

Simon pauses. He knows Tommy has the spare key, and that his brother would waste no time barging in—and neither would Beth, for that matter. He hadn’t called for room service, nor did anyone mention housecleaning, so his existing frown only deepens as he slowly gets up to check.

His hesitance dissipates entirely when he glances through the peephole and sees John on the other side. Simon swings the door open with haste.

Simon’s brows knit together even as John’s grinning.

“How did—why are you here, Johnny?”

The nickname is entirely accidental.

Neither of them seem to particularly hate it.

John’s grin only falters as he scuffs the cheap hotel carpet with his shoe. “Your, ah—your brother, he, um—“

“‘Course he did,” Simon sighs. Without thinking he seizes John’s wrist and pulls him inside the room. He peers out the door and down the hall before shutting them both inside from potential prying eyes and ears.

See: his brother and sister-in-law.

John shifts his weight, pointedly avoiding looking at Simon. “If you don’t want me here…”

“I do,” Simon blurts. “I’m just… surprised, is all.”

John blinks. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Simon breathes.

They stare at each other for eons, like they’re both trying to come to terms with being present together. Again.

Only for the third time. Yet Simon already feels all out of sorts in the best way possible.

“So.” John puffs out his cheeks, turning on his heel to better take in the room. “What’s there to do around here?”

“You’re asking the wrong person.” Simon feels the twitch of a wry smile tug at his lips. John is facing him again, looking every bit as teasing. “Why don’t we find out together?”

[lavendertales]

Can I request Joel miller x plus!size reader. I was thinking the reader could be Ellie’s older sister and the reader is immune like Ellie and she is very protective of her sister so when they hand them over to Joel and Tess she doesn’t trust them the reader is mean to them at first let’s just say Joel develops a crush on the reader while they are heading to find Joel’s brother Tommy maybe Joel confesses his feelings when they settled in the little town Tommy was living in and the reader feels the same.

can't help falling in love—Joel Miller x Williams!plus size!f!reader

summary: after everything you've been through together, Joel comes to realize just how much you mean to him.

word count: 2.1k

You’ve warned Ellie from day one of Marlene and the other Fireflies finding the two of you that this plan is a disaster waiting to happen. You’ve made your opinion well-known. But in the end, it was her choice. You weren’t about to deprive her of making her own decisions.

You knew she’d agree to travel across country with two random smugglers.

The thought alone gave you anxiety, so you simply told Marlene that you’d be joining Ellie. Harsh words were exchanged, insults were casually shouted, until Marlene surrendered and agreed to have you go with Ellie.

How could you not? This was your baby sister. And the secret that united the two of you ran deeper than anyone could ever imagine.

Marlene was the only one who knew about your shared immunity. It was beyond peculiar—and now life-threatening as well—which meant it had to remain a secret. During these uncertain times, people would kill for a speck of food, maybe even less. Who knows what they’d do if they’d hear that there are people immune to the deadly infection that destroyed the world walking around.

Then you met the two smugglers, Tess and Joel. They were a pretty rugged couple, harsh and just as against the idea as you were, but since the three of you adults were on the same page, you agreed to the plan.

“We’re a package deal, Ellie and I,” you said upon first meeting them. “Wherever she goes, I go.”

“And just so we’re clear, you’re okay with delivering your little sister to a swarm of Fireflies somewhere upstate?” Tess asked.

You hesitated, accidentally meeting Joel’s eyes. “No,” you replied, to which he made a gesture to reveal his I-told-you thoughts to Tess. “But it’s something Ellie chose, so we’re gonna do it.”

“Lettin’ a kid make his own choices in a goddamn apocalypse isn’t gonna get you very far,” Joel commented.

Your eyes narrowed at him. It was instant distrust, but not in his intentions. Oddly enough, you felt like he’d be the type of person to get the job no matter what. No, you simply didn’t trust his judgement when it came to fourteen year old girls. What could he know about that?

“Good thing I didn’t ask for your opinion,” you retorted, grabbing Ellie’s hand. “Let’s go.”

“Do I get a say in this?” she asked. “I thought you were gonna let me make my own choices.”

“You had your say. Now let’s go.”

You weren’t concerned about being unlikable or not befriending them. Your baby sister’s life was far more important than two strangers who also wanted something in exchange for Ellie’s delivery. Surprise, surprise.

But it’s how the world functioned. Always has been, not just post-outbreak. You never worried about the petty little things that might’ve bothered you once. Once upon a time, maybe you would’ve felt awkward standing next to Tess, who was tall and feisty and slender, and you were far curvier. Now, you didn’t give a shit. Surviving was a priority, not worrying about how your shirt fits. And over time, you grew more than comfortable with your own body. You were just as great as Tess. Comparison had no place there.

Ironically or not, you and Ellie befriended Tess along the way. It was easier to talk to her, perhaps on the account of being three ladies traveling together. Joel always remained in the back, quiet and grumpy, and honestly, you were thankful for that. There was something inherently curious about him that made you—let’s say not his biggest fan. At the very least he gave the three of you space.

But then Tess got infected, remaining behind to kill those who could come after you and Ellie. And Joel got promoted to the sole protector of the Williams sisters. He disliked it, and you could easily tell from the creases between his eyebrows and on his forehead, the look in his eyes whenever he helped Ellie climb or crawl and pulled back his hand like she had rabies.

You saw how Tess’ demise affected him. He clearly cared about her, regardless of the dynamic that was between them. You wanted to ask him whenever the two of you were awake still by the fire somewhere, but instead, you let silence take the reins and walk you through the night.

As the days went by and sort of blended together in a mixture of exhaustion, hunger and fear, you began to untangle the mystery revolving around Joel. He wore this tough mask, impenetrable and cruel, to a high degree—and you couldn’t blame him for that. You slowly started to realize that he too might have suffered loss that changed him forever and naturally, he’d grown skeptical and repulsed by the prospect of strangers walking into his life.

Like you and Ellie.

But he kept your secret. Ever since that night when he and Tess accidentally discovered about your immunity, while shocked, neither took back their promise to deliver Ellie to the Fireflies. Maybe their reward was far more important than her life, you didn’t know.

“You could’ve backed out of the deal,” you told Joel one evening as Ellie slept peacefully by the fire. “After Tess was gone. You could’ve turned around, walked home. Why didn’t you?”

You and Joel hadn’t made much eye contact in the weeks since you’ve been traveling together, but now you did, and it made you shudder. An odd sentiment creeped up on you, crawling up your spine in slow, shocking waves.

“We made a deal,” Joel said. “We’re finishing this.”

Simple, to the point, and yet—still wrapped in a cloud of mystery.

As the road toughened and you suffered more loss—discovering Tess and Joel’s friends Bill and Frank dead, watching two brothers, Henry and Sam, perish in pain, nearly losing Ellie to a manic and cruel cult leader—Joel began to fear that he might actually be endangering you and Ellie further. He was supposed to protect you, but he felt like a fraud. All the way to Salt Lake City, he felt like he was failing you.

But then, something else unbelievable happened. Gradually, he began to gravitate around you more; he began to hear your crystal laughter at Ellie’s bad puns, to see the way your eyes sparkled in the sun, how affectionate and overly-protective you were with your little sister, and warmth bubbled in his chest. It took him some time to recognize its value and its meaning, but it finally hit him.

It finally hit him when he massacred a hospital alongside you in order to save Ellie. There was no denying it.

He would’ve died for you two. He killed for you two. He loved you.

The road back to Jackson had been silent, though you could feel the relief radiating from Joel as you rode in the passenger’s seat next to him.

“We did what we had to,” you reassured him.

Ellie was sleeping in the back, still filled with medications to help her do so, which meant freedom of speech.

If only words would’ve came easier to Joel.

“She’s gonna want to know,” he grumbled.

“We tell her they stopped making a cure.”

“Think she’ll believe it?”

You paused, knowing damn well your feisty sister won’t. But you desperately needed her to believe everything you and Joel said.

“I think she’ll want to,” you replied.

Ellie did ask questions for days after that, even when you settled in Jackson, the town Joel’s brother Tommy managed to put together. You and Joel did your best in answering her questions, stretching the truth to a somewhat believable degree, and you could see on her face that she cared far too much for you both to doubt your words.

She wanted to believe you. So she chose to.

Now that you were living a somewhat normal life in Jackson, Joel suddenly had all the time in the world to look at you, to wonder, to feed his delusions that you might feel the same. And it terrified him.

He didn’t know how it happened, feeling all this care for you, the overwhelming urge to keep you safe at any cost and to hold you close, but it did, and now he felt helpless. You were a wonder to observe, and an honor to be had—if you’d have him too.

Having dinner with Tommy and his wife Maria every Sunday night became a regular occurrence, and tonight, when everyone’s bellies were filled with warm food and the sting of an alcoholic beverage, Joel felt intoxicated by your presence. You were sitting right next to him, smelling of lavender soap and a little bit of whiskey, and his head was spinning. He wouldn’t say anything in front of the others, of course. He doubted he could even say something to you in private, but he had to try, right?

Yeah, he had to try. Otherwise he’d never be able to sleep again.

“Hey, uh—I wanted to talk for a bit,” he began, already feeling flustered and clumsy with words. “If that’s okay.”

Frowning, you stopped on his porch, staring at him attentively. “What is it?”

Your voice had definitely softened towards him since you first met. Last year you had been cold and distant, even downright cruel sometimes, but you were only protecting Ellie at the time. You didn’t know what his intentions were, but now, after everything you’ve been through, after everything you did together to keep that little girl safe, there was much more bonding the two of you.

“I think you know by now… I’d do anything to keep Ellie safe,” Joel gulped. “And you.”

You smiled, and Joel’s shabby knees nearly gave out on the spot. “I know.”

“I thought you looked lovely tonight.”

Your face instantly softened, your whole body craving and aching. You wouldn’t allow yourself to believe some silly fantasies that may or may not be true because… why would you? How could you believe that this man has feelings for you?

God, how badly you wanted that to be true.

“Oh. Uh—thank you,” you replied with a knot in your throat, already sweating.

“Not just tonight. In—general.”

You could tell he was struggling to find the right words to compliment you, and that alone meant more to you than an actual confession. Making the effort to let you know he appreciated you was, to you, of a greater significance.

“Joel,” you cooed, shyly approaching him. “You don’t have to say anything that you… might not feel comfortable saying.”

“It’s not that. ‘m not good with words—“

“In general?”

You both chuckled, feeling like a couple of awkward teenagers trying to ask each other out on their first date.

“Look, I know you cared about Tess,” you said, carefully measuring your words. “I saw the toll it took on you after she was gone. I don’t expect you to—I don’t even know. I just… I want you to know that whatever you do, whatever we are… it’s okay.”

The look in his eyes disarmed you completely. It’s a good thing you couldn’t get in his head to see the many thoughts running wildly in there because he’d be mighty embarrassed if you did. Shameless thoughts of kissing you, of making your curvy body tremble in ecstasy, his large hands kneading your plump flesh till it reddened under his touch, burying himself into you—

“Joel?”

He shook his head, returning with his feet back to earth.

“I care about you,” he nearly whispered, the confession taking you aback. “A lot. I’d—I’d kill for you. I’d kill just to—hold you.”

You found yourself breathless, unable to utter any words back.

“I know I’m not much, but—“

You instantly grabbed his hand, gesture meant to reassure him and bring some peace to his chaotic mind.

“How long have you felt this way?” you asked.

“A while. I just—“

“Joel. It’s okay. For the record, I’d—kill for you too. Because you are a whole lot more than you realize.”

Echoing his own words back at him made a big impact on Joel. He found himself holding your hand in return, his skin burning with your presence, and his body trembling once he held you in his arms, downright aching when you pressed your lips on his.

He never dreamt of having this kind of life again. It almost makes him glad for having gone through hell and back for you and Ellie.

[a-libra-writes]

How the Peaky Blinders React To You Being a Jazz Singer

In This Preference, You’ll Be Singing To: Tommy Shelby, Arthur Shelby, John Shelby, Ada Shelby, Polly Grey, Michael Grey, Esme Shelby, Alfie Solomons, Lizzie Stark, Isaiah Jesus, Luca Changretta, Aberama Gold

THOMAS SHELBY

True to his reputation, he’d be interested in you right away, and that would inevitably grow to infatuation. Tommy would come to see you towards the end of your shift, when most of the customers are passed out and you’re sweetly crooning in a room of smoke and spilled drinks. He’s ready to drive you home, ignoring any questions about why he’s awake in the wee hours of the morning. Don’t be surprised if your club is suddenly bought by the Shelby company, especially if your boss wasn't treating you well. Tommy claims it was just a good business decision, since you’re popular and the club is close to their territory, but you know him well by this point. You’ll be well protected by guards and he often visits during your rehearsals, always looking tired and a bit lonely. Tommy's clearly relaxed by your singing, though maybe encouraging his advances isn't for the best.

ARTHUR SHELBY

No surprise, he takes a liking to you right away when you’re hired at his club. When you’re performing, he gets distracted, especially when you’re croning a love song in the wee hours to a bunch of drunk, passed-out patrons. In the corner of your eye, you’d notice Arthur looking at you like you’re hanging the moon. He’d die if you smiled at him during that. He’s incredibly protective of any weirdos trying to catcall you or grab you while you’re singing; he’ll grab them by the collar and throw them to the street or just bash their faces outright. The thing is, Arthur quickly learns your everyday personality is much different than your stage persona … and it makes him nervous to talk to you when you’re not working. You being so close and personal, not distant from the stage, makes him far more bashful.

JOHN SHELBY

The club you ended up at was always a favorite of his, and it was made even better by your singing. Eventually he stopped bringing his rowdy men around because their hollering and whistling began to piss him off - though he laughed his ass off when you threw a drink at one and continued your song. When it’s much later in the evening he’ll visit, since it brings John some peace, especially after a hard night of following Tommy’s orders. He’s too embarrassed to approach you at first, though it’d be easier if you worked for a Shelby club. He’d have an excuse to talk to you, for one. His crush would be painfully obvious, though he’s far more comfortable when he meets you outside the club. Conversation and jokes come more naturally.

ADA SHELBY

You two met by chance outside of work, and tonight she was finally coming to see you sing. That's when her little attraction turned into a full-blown crush. While Ada isn't big into jazz clubs, she's into you, so she'll visit several nights a week. Once you both are close, she insists you stop by her place after work, when the sun is just coming up. She gets up to let you in and brews you some hot tea to soothe your throat before you both fall asleep in bed. When you finally agreed to work at a Shelby club, Ada wanted it extra protected. She's ready to raise hell with her brothers if they think about starting something stupid at the club you work at.

POLLY GRAY

While Polly enjoys visiting the club you perform at, she warns you about the job in general. There are plenty of entitled men that could harass you, not to mention all the idiot drunks and brawls. Before long, you’ll be employed at a Shelby club to get some “proper” protection… though Polly will still ask you to carry a knife or a gun. Her protectiveness aside, she likes to tease about what you're wearing for the night, especially if you've a habit of getting ready at her place. When you're performing she likes to give you winks and knowing looks in the hopes you'll get flustered. If she’s had several drinks, she’ll whistle.

MICHAEL GRAY

He’s not the type who likes to be smitten with people right away, so he’ll swing between trying to impress you and trying to distance and be aloof. Michael finds your performances relaxing, even if the other club guests ruin it with their noise and loud drinking. Because he wants to avoid that crowd, he shows up early during rehearsals or very late in the evening, when you’re about to quit for the night. Even before you both are an item, Michael is protective and might hire an extra bodyguard for you. He waves off your concern by insisting all Shelby club employees are kept this safe (they aren’t, and he gets jealous of the guard anyway). Michael’s feelings are so obvious to you, but he’s too proud to admit it, even when he’s driving you home and buying you flowers and leaving nice gifts in your dressing room.

ESME

She doesn’t understand why you put up with that noisy, smokey club, with all those men that stare and try to make a move the second you step off stage. She prefers when you both sing together, outside in the sunshine or under the stars. When you come home after a long night of singing, she wakes up early and gets you in a nice bath or snuggled in bed. She’ll keep the house dark through the day so you can sleep. Esme understands you need to sing to eat, but you shouldn’t work your pretty voice until it’s hoarse!

ALFIE SOLOMONS

He doesn’t visit these kinds of jazz clubs that often; it’s not Alfie’s scene, but he closed a deal in one of them. You were singing that night, and it was the only pleasant part of the evening. So he sent flowers. The next time you received flowers, it was because his men and Sabini's tore up half the club in a brawl. The third time he figured he should deliver them personally, and that's when he walked you home, too. Afterward you suddenly had a job offer in Alfie's part of town, and sometimes you'd spot him while you rehearsed. Alfie only flirts and chats when you approach him first. He doesn't want you to feel indebted or intimidated, especially since your singing really does relax him.

LIZZIE STARK

As much as Lizize loves to hear you sing, she worries about the weird men you might encounter in the club. She urges you to carry a weapon when you’re going home, or she just walks you home herself. She enjoys helping you with make-up and dressing before a show, it feels sweet and personal, and keeps her mind off any unpleasant men that might bother you in a few hours. It’s not just that they annoy her and make her worry for your safety; she gets pangs of antsy jealousy when they’re all staring and drooling after you. She’d never tell you that, though. When you come home in the wee hours of the morning, Lizzie wakes up just to give you a hug and an exhausted good morning before falling back asleep.

ISAIAH JESUS

Isaiah stumbled into the club you sing at by accident, and he wouldn’t call it love at first sight… But he does swing by nearly every other night to watch you perform. You’d start to recognize his grin and starry eyes, and even during slow nights, Isaiah would be there. He’s had some trouble with your boss because he’s quick to cause trouble with the drunks that try to harass you, but eventually you two got to talking. Isaiah was the one to talk you into joining a Shelby club because it’s safer and you’d be paid better… and he’d get to see you more. He’s pretty embarrassed by his friends teasing about his crush, but he’s undoubtedly smitten by you.

LUCA CHANGRETTA

He was a huge flirt from the start. You didn’t even work at one of his clubs, he was invited there as an exclusive guest by some New York politician, but his attention was taken right away. After a second visit, he sends a fancy bouquet. After the fifth, it’s a gold bracelet with some diamonds. Luca likes the ego boost of you looking his way and recognizing him in the crowd, and eventually he’d invite you to work for one of his clubs - especially once the one you’re at gets involved in a gang brawl. Word spreads quick that anyone making a ruckus while you sing is getting thrown out… and any idiot that tries to approach you after the show is getting a hand or nose broken. He will melt if you sing in Italian or Spanish.

ABERAMA GOLD

He’s not a regular visitor to these fancy, noisy clubs, but Aberama will make an exception for you. He loves your voice, though he much prefers hearing you hum to yourself as you get ready for the evening’s set. It’s probably for the best he doesn’t watch you sing too much, because the moment a drunk catcalls you or tries to get on the stage, he’s got them in a chokehold and politely suggesting they leave. But no matter what, if Aberama isn’t working, he walks or drives you home, no matter the hour you’re finished with work. If you work at a Shelby club and there’s some drunk or brawl that causes you trouble, he’ll absolutely give Tommy grief about it.

[inkyblinders]

Dancing with the Devil: Part II

Part 1

Pairing: Luca Changretta x Reader

Author’s note: This was so embarrassing to write not because of smut...but because I’m crushing hard on Adrien Brody right now. And I can’t even share this obsession with anyone because… he’s kinda niche? Someone please reassure me that I’m just going through a phase because dear God why can’t I stop watching Darjeeling Limited just to see him ahhh.

The story picks up right after the end of Part 1, so I recommend reading that first. Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated, let me know what you think!

Summary: Following your meeting with Luca Changretta, you face the Shelby family and Tommy's reaction. (2.6k words)

Warnings: Smut, angst, swearing

Tag: Let me know if you would like to be added or removed

@anythingwriter, @rrtxcmt, @shut-chan

_____________________________________________________________

You barely make it into your bedroom before he is all over you. The buttons of his crisp, tailored shirt fall like marbles. He moans when you nip the skin of his neck, right over his tattoo of the black cross, legs tangled together like a depraved waltz.

When he grinds into you, you shudder deliciously at the hardness that meets between your bare thighs.

How easy would it be for him to kill you after he fucks you, leaving your corpse twisted in the bedsheets. You know Tommy would find it when he eventually remembers that he has not seen you for days.

“Signorita, you know I come to you with the most honorable of intentions.” He murmurs, as if sensing your thoughts.

“You're not a very honorable man then.” A laugh that turns into a gasp as he trails his hand lower and strokes between your legs. No, not very honorable at all. And pretty soon all thoughts of honor are forgotten as he coaxes a moan from your throat.

His fingers are magic. The cold outline of his onyx rings scald your skin each time he crooks a finger inside you. Knowing exactly what you need, seeking your depths, swirling, rising to rub the clit, all the while exploring the flushed expanse of your body with his other hand.

Shoulder to breasts to hips and back again.

Without meaning to, you’ve let this stranger take control of your entire being. But God, do you crave this pure ecstasy.

It’s as if he wants to know precisely how much you can take before you're undone. So when you clench around his hand and feel the familiar ache he is right there, helping you ride the wave of pleasure, never breaking the rhythm of his thrusting fingers even as you curse, rake your nails down his back.

You almost cry out his name when you come. But you bite into his shoulder instead.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna have to hear you next time.” He growls.

His words barely register as you come down from the high. Aftershocks spark like tiny flames. Now you are wearing his scent as much as he is wearing yours.

“Be inside me,” You whimper, tugging at his soft hair, urging him for more.

He rasps an empty warning, “What's my name, sweetheart?”

Of course. All this time you've never acknowledged you know of his identity. There was no use in trying to hide it now.

“Luca,” you breathe. And his eyes gleam with approval.

With a snap of his hips, he plunges into silky warmth. The fullness stretches you to your limit, head thrown back. It’s good, so good. Every withdrawal of his thrust is a blessing because you know what follows next. It’s him inside you again, wrapping you with his touch and the scent of tobacco and roses.

“Does your Tommy fuck you like this? Like the way I do?”

“He’s not mine.” You choke out, punishing Luca with a bite on the neck that elicits a chuckle rather than a yelp of pain.

He kisses you, your foreheads pressed together. “A damn shame for him.” Soon he starts to quicken his pace, going faster, more erratic, his breathing heavy upon your ears.

Yes, you urge him, come on, now.

And this is your chance. In a flash you roll on top of him, pinning down his shoulders with your hands. He tries to arch up but you stop him with a knee.

“How many men did you bring, Changretta?” You ask, making your voice rough to mask the lust, pressing your hands around his jugular.

It's a pleasure to see him like this. Shocked at your actions, maybe even scared. Naked with want but unable to do anything to relieve it. Unless he tells the truth.

“Fifteen. Why baby, am I not enough for you?” He laughs breathlessly, hands trailing goosebumps along your hips, tracing the contour of your breasts. The jib doesn't hurt you. After all, men have said worse. He tries to surge into you again, and his hot member pulses on your thighs.

“Do you swear on your honor? That you’re telling the truth?” You insist, squeezing him harder. The touch brands his skin as much as it brands yours.

In a voice full of self-mockery he says, “Yes I swear on my honor. Now let me in, clever Isabel.”

You take him in you, the sensations amplify a thousandfold. You try teasing him, going slowly in and out, but soon you are caught up in the sensation of him completely at your mercy and you ride him, faster, until you keen his name, until he too is undone.

****

Through the haze of dawn, he stumbles out of bed and gets dressed. Before he dons his hat once more, Luca leans down to whisper in your ear, as soft as sin.

“You tell Tommy Shelby he may expect a visitor in the night. I'm coming for him as the angel of death. The vendetta has begun…” He kisses your hair.

“I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

The door clicks shut. You rise from your pillow, and a small, hard lump rolls next to your hand.

It is a signet ring of onyx and gold.

****

“So we all get a death letter from the mafia, but Izzy gets jewelry?” Ada huffs as the family filters into the betting shop. As usual, Tommy holds court at the front of the table, brooding over a glass of whiskey. You roll your eyes as Arthur and John try to cover their snort of laughter with a cough.

“If you want it, you can have it, Ada. He’s probably planning on killing me too.”

“Doubt it. You’re not a Shelby, and we’re the ones who killed his father. Well, someone did, to be precise.” She shoots a bitter look at Tommy, who doesn’t even have the decency to look ashamed.

Despite Ada’s matter-of-fact tone, the words cut to your heart. Not a Shelby.

It’s not her fault. No one knows you’ve been sleeping with Tommy, not even your dearest friend. It’s a lonely secret to keep, but at least you can look at the family square in the eye and not have to worry about the things they say behind your back. Or worse, pity you.

You can handle the violence and moral ambiguity of Tommy’s business. But to lose the love and respect of the Shelbys would break your heart.

“What was the mafia man like, Izzy?” Finn asks eagerly. It’s obvious the boy is thinking of the dashing, gun-wielding gangsters he’s seen in the pictures.

“He was a wrinkly old brute. Kind of like your arsehole brother Tommy.” A smile to take the edge off the insult. But Tommy only looks off into space. As if he hasn't paid attention to this entire conversation.

Arthur clears his throat. “Now, let’s get one thing straight. It was me who pulled the trigger on his dad, so the blame falls on me.” He pats Linda’s hand even as his voice is heavy with guilt.

“No one’s blaming you Arthur, you weren’t the brains behind the operation, no offense.” Ada says. He is about to say something when Polly cuts in.

“Stop squabbling like children. We’ve all voted for truce, despite everything Tommy’s done to us—” The words nearly having us hanged hover pointedly in the air. “—So let’s focus on the matter at hand." She fixes Tommy with a sharp look.

“What’s the news from Camden Town? Will Solomons help us?”

“No.” He says tiredly. And all of a sudden you feel sorry for teasing him. He look gaunt. There are shadows under his eyes, even more so than usual. Without you to remind him to eat, you can imagine his diet for the past few days consisted more of alcohol and cigarettes than anything substantial.

“Spent three hours on a fucking tour of his bakery and another pretending to drink his piss-poor rum. I think he was trying to get me sloshed so I’d forget what I came for.” Tommy rubs his head.

“He’s refusing to send his men to help. Said he’s not going to go after another oppressed people.”

“Did you tell him the Italians are rounding up Jews in their country as we speak?” Polly asks incredulously.

“Wouldn’t make a difference to Alfie. Besides, that’s just an excuse. He’s really just a fucking coward.”

Polly looks troubled at this, as does the rest of the family. Everyone had been counting on Alfie’s friendship with Tommy, however peculiar, to help them with the vendetta. What they hadn’t expected was his extreme sense of self-perseverance. How are they going to protect themselves now?

“Before everyone panics, I’d like to say something.” Tommy clears his throat, setting down the whisky.

“As you may all know, two nights ago our Izzy encountered Mr. Changretta in the Garrison. He bought her a drink and asked her to deliver an official beginning of the vendetta.” He chooses this time to finally look at you. You hold his gaze until he looks shiftily away.

“We can also assume that he has been scoping out Small Heath, looking for any weaknesses on our turf. Now, Izzy has something to share with you all.”

You stand up uncertainly. The last time a woman other than Polly tried to speak her mind at the table it had been Esme, who still refuses to come to the betting shop unless Tommy is not here.

“While Mr. Changretta was, er, indisposed at the Garrison, I found some items in his coat that I think could be useful.” You fish out a passport and a stack of papers from your skirt pockets.

“Good job, Izzy! Oh, I knew we could count on you more than my idiot brother.” Ada beams.

“Becoming a right little spy, eh?” John ruffles your hair good-naturedly. As everyone gathers around, Polly gives a low whistle.

“Goodness, if this is your definition of an ugly brute, I wonder who’ll really catch your fancy, darling.”

You flush. The documents were obtained shortly after Luca had fallen asleep. It was an exercise in agility, trying to extricate yourself from his tangle of limbs, especially when you wanted nothing more than to stay in bed, encased in his warmth.

To your own credit, the papers were highly useful indeed. Some were maps of Birmingham, circles drawn in places where the Shelbys are known to frequent. The Garrison. Charlie’s Yard. The Arrow House. There was also stationary from The Stanton, a hotel just outside of the city.

There had been another piece of paper in the stack, a letter. But you kept that for yourself.

“We all have Izzy to thank for bringing us this valuable information.” Tommy’s voice rises above the chatter. “I will be personally examining all the documents and think of a plan. In the meantime, everyone stay alert, stay armed, and stay together.”

“Now if no one has any further questions, I need to have a private word with her. Alone.”

*****

You twirl the onyx ring around your finger as everyone filters out. It’s much too big but you still wear it anyways. The thick band of gold is comforting in its own way. And despite what you told Ada earlier, you don’t want to give it to anyone else.

Tommy’s curt voice snaps you from your reverie.

“Was it good, then?”

A small muscle tics on the underside of his jaw. His previously blank expression is now cold. The coward in you compels you to feign ignorance.

“What do you mean, Tommy?” You ask lightly.

“Did it feel good to have that fucking wop inside you?”

You burst out laughing. “Christ, Tommy. Did you pick up that word from Alfie? You sound bloody ridiculous when you’re trying to be crass, you know.”

“Don’t fucking change the subject, Isabel.” Tommy snaps.

“Oh, so I’m Isabel, now? You only call me that when you’re trying to get me in bed. Is that what you want? A bit early in the evening if you ask me.”

“What I want for you is to tell me how it felt having that man inside you, inside---”

You blaze with anger. “My sex life is none of your business, even if you are an occasional participant. I did what you would have wanted, and now I’ve got intel on the Changrettas that could save your arse!”

“Do you know how dangerous it could have been? Fraternizing with the enemy is exactly what got us into trouble with the Changrettas!”

“And fraternizing with them again has given us an advantage. We know how many associates he’s brought with him, and where they are staying. Good God,” Your eyes widen as you see the mutinous look on Tommy’s face. “Are you jealous?”

The silence of the room presses in until it's almost palpable. Finally he rubs a hand over his eyes, looking utterly defeated.

“I have no right to.” He says, pained. “But I am, just the same.”

The admission of his feelings would have made your heart soar a few days ago, before you met a man who enchanted you in the Garrison. You only laugh bitterly.

“What makes this different from all those other times you made me seduce the men you wanted to spy on?”

He says nothing. But what else is there to say? The past is in the past, and so many hurts have been caused by the both of you, it would be impossible to untangle it all.

You soften your voice, laying a hand on Tommy's arm.

“Let me continue seeing him. He wants me, and we can use that. You know it will be help, you know it might save us all.”

A breath flutters in your chest as you wait for his decision. If Tommy allows it, you’ll do it in a heartbeat. The Shelbys are your family, whether you're one in name or not.

But if he refuses, then perhaps… Perhaps he might actually care for you, deeper than jealousy, deeper than he admits.

“Very well.” Tommy says finally, and something in your heart shatters. The corners of your mouth curve up in a wobbly smile.

“Thank you for trusting me, Tommy. I won’t let you down.”

“You would never let me down, no matter what you do. Just…Be careful, Izzy.”

He closes the distance between you and enfolds you in a hug. You enjoy this quiet warmth, as fragile as spider's silk. With a small laugh, you pull away, patting his arm before turning to the door.

You don't look back to see if he follows.

[void-adjacent-particles]

Content warnings: Death, gore, fire mentions, scars, murder, violence.

Totems of Undying are strange things. They’re warm, and will pulse in time to the heartbeat of whatever is holding them, emerald eyes glimmering even in the pure dark of the void’s absence of light. While Totems are made of gold, there is no malleability, they are as solid as bedrock. The emeralds and gold and magic have solidified into one unchangeable object until its use, and then it is gone.

They leave their mark on whatever uses them. For some this could be a prize, another thing to be proud of, because they survived the unsurvivable only through their own wits and forethought. To others it is a mark of shame, for ever having been in such a position to lose their life, even if it is only one of three.

On a specific server, there are those who have need for Totems in their long pasts, who have used them right before our eyes, and those who will surely use them in the future.

Technoblade was one such person to use one before our eyes. We saw him dragged from his home to a farce of a trial, facing justice on rigged scales for grievous cries nonetheless as he was pushed into a cage. The fall of the anvil, the crushing, crunching of a body that never seemed fragile until now when everyone witnessed its end. Then the sparkling cloud of green and yellow, bones clicking back in jigsaw puzzle pieces, the knitting of muscle and tendon and skin, and there is only a moment of paralyzing death before his heart skips a beat and he lives again. This is the prestige of his trick, no turn to raise suspense, and a pledge everyone who knew his name already was aware of, a promise and threat all in one that he always delivered on. Technoblade never dies, and he lives right now to kill again. Later he will be in his quaint cottage in the merciless tundra, and his own reflection will glitter strangely back at him, forcing him to examine himself instead of resting and trying to forget the lingering aches. He will stare as the night sky leaves the window more a mirror, lantern lights low, but the flashes catch his eyes anyway. His tusks, once white and bone, now seem to be fully made of gold. He taps one with his hoof, and feels the pressure reverberating subtly down into his jaws, as real as before. With a shrug, he moves his hoof away, only to watch as pink fur and skin split against the now razor sharp point of his tusks. Those tusks will remain as gilded as any enchanted apple, and as sharp as any netherite sword, until one day he will fail his audience, his pledge a battle cry he brings to one or more of his graves.

Quackity would covet a Totem in all of his paranoia, his fear of death and pain and losing even more than he already has. If he died, be it by pickaxe or nuke or strangling, desperate hands, the Totem would bring him back all the same. And all of his scars would ache in their newfound golden hue, shining and standing out even more as a testament to his inability to protect himself or what he loves. The scars would hurt, old and new, in warning of dangers to come. It only partly calms his paranoia, the fear ever present and simmering in the background of his mind, waiting to boil over and burn him.

When Tubbo or Tommy use their Totems of Undying they will appear unharmed. It is not until they bruise that it becomes obvious. A small bump against the corner of furniture, a tumble while out exploring the wild, a sharp elbow to the face, the blunt side of a weapon, they bruise the skin, blossoming into purples and dark indigos. They fade far too quickly, as if someone splashed healing potions on them. Yet then they stay at that disquieting green and yellow stage, where the next day it could appear as if they were never there, but they stay, shimmering slightly in the wrong lighting, still hurting as much as if they were fresh even weeks later. Only fading when forgotten about, and they have wonder if the bruise was ever there. If only they had Totems when they died before. Tubbo’s face would be a mess of bruised gold that would seep into the skin until only pink scar tissue remained, a starburst remnant of a festival’s fireworks, but he would still be alive, gasping for air and hunched over in that box, on that stage, but alive. Tommy would have handprint bruises around his neck, across the break in his nose, the imprint of a fist against his cheek that had whipped his head back too far, his neck slamming at the worst angle against the harsh obsidian walls. But he would have been alive, clawing his way back into life, latching his own hands around his killer’s throat, finishing the job, doing what should have been done instead of daring to imprison a dream.

George passes out if he uses a Totem. Instead of the rush of adrenaline, of life that floods the system of whatever uses one, it overwhelms to the point of just unconsciousness as his body repairs itself, fueled only by magic until his heart begins pumping and his lungs begin breathing again. Later when he wakes, maybe with cracked sunglasses, anyone who’s looking properly will see the dark bags under his eyes, a sheen of gold overlaying the dark purple of sleeplessness. When he sleeps it will be deeper, without dreams. Alarms and shaking won’t wake him. Nights will be sleepless as he examines the bags under his eyes, fretting over the burnt orange of the gold deepening, digging into his skin, around his eyes. He will continue to sleep, but days will pass, and when he wakes he wonders if next time he will simply be unlucky and sleep forever.

If Dream uses a Totem of Undying it will shatter him. He will feel every bone shake themselves into dust and back again, a glimpse of what everyone eventually returns to. His spine will burn with pain, arcing upwards to the base of his skull, spreading outwards like a deep set rot that always goes unnoticed until it is far too late and the structure crumbles. His mask shatters, likely from the final strike that killed him, but maybe just from his fall to the ground, a person one moment and a corpse the next, until the Totem brings him back. Gold lines every crack in the porcelain of his mask, across the monochrome of the glaze burned into it, bisecting an eye, a smile, a face. The green of him becomes so much more vibrant, deadly, similar to prey animals that evolve into their bright colors to indicate they are poisonous, saying if you kill me, I take you down with me.

If Niki ever uses a Totem, it would burn. She would feel it burning, more than the all encompassing pain of whatever killed her. Bright, sparking pain would race down her body, through every nerve, every blood vessel, until it was all she knew for that brief suspended moment on the precipice between life and death. She would grit her teeth through the pain, eyes narrowed as she reeled back from the magical force, only to march onward in doing whatever was necessary to achieve her goal. Later she would be looking at her hands, washing off blood real or metaphorical, and see that instead of chipping nail polish in whatever color of her choice, instead her nails would be intact, a brilliant gold. Nails that would make her appear vain, still absorbed with one final thing, or simply clinging to it. Nails that would sharpen into what some might call claws, digging into the fine wooden handles of her weapons, scoring lines that would never go away, even if the nails would upon her death.

If Hannah ever uses a Totem of Undying it will react strangely to her innate magic. Plants die off, withering away, leaving just the roots, the basis of their whole survival, to lie in wait underground until the rain falls again and the sun shines again. Any of her wounds will bloom with roses, the flowers ragged, shaped like bloodstains, but every leaf and petal will be edged with gold. The greenery of her roses’ vines will brighten and soak up sunshine more than ever, revitalizing her until her heart aches with it, until she finally lets fate claim the life stolen from it.

If Puffy ever uses a Totem of Undying, she wouldn’t notice side effects at first, aside from the usual anguish and pain from having died. The likely conflicts she had thrown herself into out of duty would capture her attention anyway, away from examining herself for any lingering problems. It wouldn’t be a problem anyway, not until she looked in the mirror and saw that all of her greying hairs from stress became gold, her mass of curls even heavier, no lock of hair without its reminder, its own thread of gold to weave into thick hair. Later, in a moment of true rest, when someone runs their hands through her hair, braiding it or simply trying to calm her, they would find that every golden thread burns and tries to tie itself around their hands, keeping them there, keeping them at her side where they could be safe.

If Antfrost or Fundy ever use a Totem, it settles on their skin like a weighted blanket, forcing their muscles to accommodate, forcing them to make room in their lives for the extra chance they stole. Later, when they rest, so much more tired with their aching bodies, they will curl up in the sunshine wherever they feel safest. When the sunlight catches just right, beige or burnt orange fur glimmers like a pelt of gold. Any breeze would be unable to rustle fur, their bodies motionless and unmovable as any statue, their breathing far shallower and subtler than ever before. If one wasn’t watching close enough, they’d assume there was a corpse just curled in the sunlight, begging for a final bit of warmth before letting go. They will start awake from nightmares with a hiss, and stretch out in the dying light to go pretend like they don’t feel that extra life weighing on them.

Phil only has one life to lose, and so he holds Totems close to his heart, always just one movement away from being clutched as the lifelines they are. When he’s killed holding one, wings splayed, feathers falling from the force of his death, mouth open and choking on last breaths, his death will hurt.  It will always hurt, the moment stretching through his lived centuries and snapping back into the present, so much life to flash before his eyes that they are rendered sightless and glassy, death clouding them greedily. Flashes of gold and emerald green dance on the sheen of inky feathers and glossy eyes as dead as a doll’s. When he lives again, his wings will no longer be the cape of shadows, the midnight extensions of self that they once were. His secondary feathers will be golden now, shining in the sun, always growing back that same shade. Those gilded feathers will just be another thing his murder of crows hoards, another shiny object, but to Phil it will be a permanent reminder of how he has always only had one life, and how fleeting it is.

If Wilbur got his hands on a Totem, he would never let it go. To die again and again and again, to suffer through the agony of an eternal listless limbo, to suffer again as he is replaced by a mockery of himself… he could not stand for it. So he never lets go of the Totem in hand, his thumb worrying over the facets of its emerald eyes when he thinks, nails breaking against the rigid golden effigy. There are many reasons he would die, several from his own actions, as it was before. If he did die, he would wake choking on blood and tears, hacking and wheezing and lacking all the grace and charm he once had. It wouldn’t be until he coughed once again into his hands that he would see his blood, no longer a dull red, now glimmering and golden. And he laughs, as he now resembles a god in all but the immortality, his blood turned to ichor in its molten sunlight, its deep dark shades of beauty and riches, and he keeps choking on his blood as the Totem works still to restore a body dead for the fourth time.

When Ranboo uses a Totem of Undying the magic will seep into his skin, counteracting strangely with his biology, trying to strengthen him, trying to mark him however it can. So the short black velvet of fur he received from enderman genetics will spread, the skin and fur stronger, in hopes of protecting him. It seeps like ink, a slow spread that burns as if trails of water settled on his skin. It hurts, and he hides for days, coming out with his green eye just a bit brighter, black crawling up the white side of his jaw like an outstretched hand. His own hand will reach out, and under the white skin on his forearm will be golden veins, burning with life stolen from a Totem. He forgets using Totems every time he does, the experience is so jarring and intense as it changes the fiber of his being, as with every use he appears more enderman than whatever else he is. One day, far in the future when he goes by another name, he will look in the mirror and see two emerald green eyes, his entire body the black void of fur his endermen kin have. 

Foolish is a being whose entire being had always been defined by death. Once, it was the carnage, the lives lost in droves, sent into Her embrace prematurely in their violent ends. Then Foolish changed and became a Totem of Undying himself, a god now more mortal than even he knew by resisting his domain. When he died the denial was almost too much to bear, the Egg trying to worm its way into his mind when it realized this weakness, a grief for what he lost. If he dies again, he will likely have a Totem in hand, maybe even one of his children, held close as he fears an end, selfishly cannibalizing the life force of one of his own in order to extend his last two lives. There will be no markings from the Totem. He is already one of them, eyes of gemstone and skin of metal, created and made of that space between life and death, the lull after a last heartbeat when the next is expected, the resting note in the song of life that he has conducted himself, has cut short himself, destroying all in his path without a single goal in mind in his times as a Totem of Death. There is no scar or blood or feathers or bruise to mark him, because he is a Totem. A Totem given sentience and life, given free will and thought, but at the end of the day a living doll, and the now lifeless, apathetically terrified look in Foolish’s emerald eyes is enough to show just what measures he took in order to survive another death.

[onecanonlife]

In which Tommy travels back in time and tries to prevent a nightmare from happening to everyone he knows. Everyone else, meanwhile, is highly concerned.

(fic masterpost w/ ao3 links)

(first part) (next part)

(word count: 3,098)

--------------------

Part Two: Sapnap

Sapnap has never thought of himself as an outwardly sentimental person, but nights like tonight make him consider changing his mind on that front.

Things have been weird, lately. Weird in a different kind of way from the usual weirdness. Personally, he blames Wilbur Soot and his dumb drug van that has somehow evolved into a dumb country and a dumb revolution, because apparently he thinks it’s fine to be invited onto someone else’s server and promptly declare independence. But whatever, it’s fine, and so what if it’s getting a little more intense than the games they usually play? So what if Dream’s starting to get strangely obsessive about the whole thing? Sapnap thinks he might too, in his position, and there’s no need to get too worried about it anyway. There’s no way this war—if it can be called a war at all—will last much longer.

But it’s been weird.

Nights like this, though, remind him that it’ll all be okay in the end. Because tonight started out as a war meeting, all of them hunched around a table in Dream’s base, talking over plans and hypothetical ways to kick the L’Manbergians straight into next week the next time they fight. But over time, conversation shifted to other things, lighter things, and Dream flicked water at George’s face for some reason, and George retaliated by throwing small objects at Dream’s mask, and somehow that’s resulted in them all piling onto each other in front of the TV, watching really terrible horror movies. Dream tosses popcorn at the screen whenever someone makes a horrendous decision, and they’re all cracking stupid jokes and making silly commentary, and Sapnap feels warm and tired and safe. It feels like old times, when it was just the three of them on this server, or maybe even like just a few months ago, before Wilbur got it into his head to create a drug empire and they were all still friends, and the stealing and the griefing was all in good fun and the disc thing was a joke and not something that Dream is still weirdly preoccupied with.

It’s a nice reminder. Things were good before, and they’ll be good again. Everything will go back to normal soon, and right now, with Dream draped across his lap and George half sprawled over both of them, he can’t think of anywhere he’d rather be.

And then, Tommy stumbles into the room.

He blinks a few times, because what? But no, Tommy’s still there, even though this is about the last thing he expected to happen. Scratch that, it’s like, the negative third thing he expected to happen tonight, because what is Tommy doing here?

There is a split second in which his instinct is to go for a weapon. But even disregarding how fucked up that is, because this is still Tommy, still the kid he joked around with and hung out with in the early days, and he doesn’t want him hurt or dead no matter how annoying he’s been lately—even disregarding all of that, the urge fades quickly.

Because Tommy looks like shit.

He’s unarmed and unarmored, nothing on his back but his usual t-shirt, and that appears rumpled, like he slept in it and didn’t bother to change before coming here. His hair is mussed, even more than normal, and his eyes are red-rimmed. Sapnap would chalk it up to sleep deprivation if there weren’t obvious tear tracks drying on his cheeks.

Which, holy shit. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Tommy cry before. So what the hell could have happened that he would show up in Dream’s base of all places, alone and looking like this?

“Uh,” he says, very eloquently. “We’re having a war meeting? What are you doing?”

Tommy’s gaze drifts from them to the TV and back to them again.

“Oh, good,” Tommy says, and he sounds… off. Like he’s trying too hard to sound casual. Sapnap’s not quite sure how he knows that, except that there’s an odd strain in his voice, and the words don’t seem to come easily, like he has to search for them, and that’s wrong. Tommy delivers insults as easily as breathing, even when they’re not particularly clever ones. “Here I was worried you were having a sleepover. Like middle school girls.”

“We can have a sleepover if we want,” George mutters, sounding slightly offended and also like he’s too tired for this. Which, honestly, Sapnap completely agrees with.

“If this is supposed to be a sneak attack or something, it’s a really bad one,” Dream says, and finally puts in the effort of rolling to his feet in one smooth motion and taking a few steps in Tommy’s direction. “Why are you here, Tommy, and how soon can you leave? Or do we need to make you?”

It’s definitely too late at night to sound threatening. Even Dream can’t manage it very well, too much sleep creeping into his voice.

Except it seems to work. Tommy flinches, and takes a step back. Alarm bells start clamoring in Sapnap’s head, because the one thing Tommy has never been is scared of Dream.

Dream catches it too. His head tilts, and he stops his advance. Sapnap exchanges glances with George, and they both get to their feet as well, the earlier warmth and comfort almost forgotten. The movie continues to play in the background, disregarded.

“I’m not here for a fight,” Tommy says, and Sapnap can’t stop his snort.

“You’re always here for a fight,” he says, and Tommy—

Tommy looks at him. Just looks at him, and it’s only for a second, but he could swear that there is something dark in Tommy’s eyes, something dangerous, something that Sapnap has seen before but never in the face of someone so young, something that speaks of loss and bloodshed and an unshakable determination to do whatever it takes. To accomplish what, he doesn’t know, and he can’t find out, because Tommy blinks, looks away, and the moment is gone.

“Not tonight,” Tommy says, and turns his gaze on Dream. And keeps it there. “I want to propose a deal.”

“You want to propose a deal,” Dream repeats. “You want—you came here at three in the morning to try to make a deal with us? I—okay, why? What do you want, and why do you think we’ll give it to you?” Dream’s voice is increasing in both volume and snappiness, and Sapnap can’t blame him; deals, when coming from Tommy, inevitably end in some sort of scam, in his experience, and if Tommy’s really trekked all the way over to their base to try to pull one over them, he’s got another thing coming to him.

But at the same time, Tommy has actually trekked all the way over to their base, looking like he’s halfway to death via exhaustion. His voice is flat, and he’s watching Dream like he’s some sort of predator, like he’s going to attack at the slightest provocation. Which might just be the case, but the point is that Tommy has never seemed this aware of it. Never been careful, never given Dream the respect and caution that his skills deserve, despite Dream besting him in combat time and time again. So somehow, Sapnap doesn’t think that a simple scam is the end goal here.

“You’re going to give it to me because I know you, Dream,” Tommy says, lifting his chin defiantly, and there, there is some of his usual spark, his usual confidence. Odd, though, that it seems to be just that: confidence, not false bravado, not a child playing in shoes several sizes too big, not Tommy trailing after Wilbur like a puppy trying to learn to be a wolf. Just surety. “I know what you want.”

“Oh?” Dream crosses his arms. “And what do I want?”

“The discs,” Tommy says, and Sapnap feels his jaw hit the floor. “And I’ll give them to you. No scams.”

Dream has gone still. Shocked, Sapnap thinks. “You’ll give me the discs?” he says. “Just like that, you’ll give them to me?” He’s disbelieving—but he’s interested. That much is plain as day. And Sapnap still doesn’t understand why Dream cares about those things so much, because sure, Tommy was being really annoying about them, but at the end of the day, discs are all they are. Music discs like any other music discs.

“I mean, no, not—not just like that,” Tommy says. “This is a deal, man, I want something from you. But that’s what I’m offering. The discs. Both of them.”

Sapnap scans his face, his posture, searching for any sign of a lie. There is none. Tommy’s lips are drawn in a thin line, his expression more serious than any Sapnap has ever seen from him.

“Okay, what is it?” he asks.

“L’Manberg’s independence,” Tommy says. “Independence for the discs.”

And that’s—that’s laughable. This revolution of theirs has barely been going on for a month, and it’s already painfully obvious that they’re going to lose, and badly, that they don’t have the resources or the manpower to defeat Dream. They’re going to crush them; they’re not about to let them form their own country right in the middle of the Greater SMP just because of a couple of music discs. That would be stupid.

Except Dream’s still interested.

“You’d be willing to give up the discs?” he asks, an odd note in his voice, and—he’s considering it. He’s actually considering it.

“Oh, come on, Dream,” George says, apparently thinking along the exact same lines. “You can’t just—”

“Yeah,” Tommy says, and shifts his weight between his feet. He still hasn’t taken his eyes off Dream. His whole body is tense as a bowstring. “I mean, you know. Sometimes you’ve got to think about what’s important.”

“Did Wilbur ask you to do this?” Dream says.

Tommy stays silent. For a moment, Sapnap takes that as a yes, as agreement, and a burst of anger flares, surprising him. But the core of it is this: sure, Tommy’s irritating, but the discs are important to him. That much has been made extremely clear. So for Wilbur to force the kid to give them up for the sake of his grand country would be messed up.

But Dream laughs, soft and low. “He doesn’t even know you’re here, does he?” he says, and Sapnap starts, looking back to Tommy for his reaction.

Tommy winces.

Did the child really waltz into enemy territory without telling anyone where he was going? That’s stupid, even for him.

“What Wilbur doesn’t know can’t hurt him,” Tommy snaps, and then scowls. “Well, usually. I take that back, actually. But I’m not here because he told me to. I’m here because this—this is the best choice. It’s the best outcome. So how about you just take the fucking things, and then you go away and leave us alone forever, eh? How about that?”

Dream hums. “And how do you know I won’t take the discs and then raze your little country to the ground anyway?” he asks. “What would stop me?”

Tommy levels a flat stare, and for a second, it’s like there’s someone else peering out of his face.

“I’d fucking stop you, you bitch,” he says. “I’m not—I’ve got news for you, buddy. You think you’re some kind of god. Well, you’re not. You’re just some guy, just like the rest of us, and so what if you’re all strong and shit? There’s always someone stronger.” He pauses for a moment. “There are worse monsters out there than you, Dream. More powerful things. And if you start trying to play your games with me, I’ll take you the fuck out. Don’t even try me. I don’t—I don’t have time for this.” His voice cracks suddenly, and Sapnap looks on in horrified fascination, trying to make sense of anything he’s saying. “Look, you still want the discs, yeah? You can have them. Just give L’Manberg its independence. I won’t try anything. They’re yours to keep, forever. I won’t fight you. So c’mon, you green bastard, do we have a deal?”

Throughout this speech, Dream has gone very, very still.

“More powerful things than me?” he asks. “Tommy, this is literally my server. I think you’re underestimating me here.”

“No,” Tommy says. “No, I’m really not.”

Dream stays silent for a moment. Sapnap would bet anything that underneath his mask, he’s frowning.

“Alright,” he finally says. “Show me that you have them here, and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

Sapnap would protest. He feels like he should. A couple of discs aren’t worth allowing a whole new country to form in their server. But Dream’s tone brooks no argument, and more than that, there’s definitely something wrong with Tommy, something that grabs his attention and keeps it, even though he can’t put a finger on what it is. So he just watches as Tommy brings his enderchest out of his inventory, and pulls out two music discs, staring at them both for a long second.

And then, he holds them out toward Dream.

“The discs for L’Manberg,” he repeats, and his voice is colorless.

“The discs for L’Manberg,” Dream replies, and takes the discs from Tommy’s hand. Tommy jerks his arm back quickly, face going pale as a sheet as he stumbles a bit.

“Don’t,” he says, and he’s shaking, shaking hard, “don’t you fucking, don’t fucking touch—”

Sapnap’s not sure what the issue is. Dream’s fingers might have brushed Tommy’s when he accepted the discs, maybe, but he doesn’t know why that would cause such a reaction. Dream freezes in place, startled, and it’s impossible to tell where he’s looking, so Sapnap exchanges another glance with George and steps forward, intending to calm Tommy down, perhaps, to guide him out of the base so he can get back home. Maybe he’ll walk him himself; he’s not sure he trusts the kid not to get eaten by a zombie on the way, in the state he’s in.

But Tommy wheels on him, stabbing a shaking finger at him, and he stops in his tracks.

“Don’t,” he says, and he’s near tears, barely getting the words out, and Sapnap feels so lost. “Don’t get near me, just, just fuck off, why don’t you?”

“You’re in our base!” he says incredulously. “Tommy, what is up with you?”

Tommy just shakes his head. His eyes drift back over to Dream, and the discs in his hand. His face contorts, and Sapnap can’t even begin to interpret the expression he’s making, something sad and angry and desperate all at once, but with something else, something… weird. Everything about this is weird, though, and he doesn’t particularly want to admit that he’s slightly worried about TommyInnit, but frankly, he’s not sure he has a choice.

Because he’s slightly worried about TommyInnit.

“It’s for the best,” Tommy says, quietly, as if to himself, but his voice sounds so wrecked that Sapnap’s first instinct is actually to give him a hug. It’s easy enough to refrain, but still. “It’s for the, it’s for the best. For L’Manberg. It’s, um—” He glances up, right at Dream’s mask, and flinches again. “Right. I’d say it was a pleasure doing business with you, but it never is. Bye, Dream.”

And then he’s backing out the entrance, and he’s gone.

“Bye, Tommy,” Dream says, somewhat belatedly, and then they all stand there in silence for a good two minutes. Dream turns the discs over and over in his hands, a repetitive motion. Sapnap recognizes it for what it is—a self-soothing mechanism, something to calm himself with. He’s rattled.

“So, that was really weird, right?” George says, and Sapnap lets out a long breath.

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I’d say that was weird, George.” And then he whirls on Dream. “And you! Are you serious right now? You’re just going to, what, let them make their country, just like that? Over a couple of discs? Seriously?”

Dream takes a moment before replying, and when he does, his voice is low, considering.

“I want to see where this goes,” he says. “I didn’t see this coming. I didn’t think that Tommy would be willing to give up these discs for—well, for anything. And the fact that he did this on his own? Without even telling anyone? You’re right, it’s weird. I want to figure it out.” He shrugs, posture untensing. The discs vanish into his inventory. “Besides, I have the discs now, which means I have power over him. And we can always declare war again later if we want. I promised him L’Manberg’s freedom, not that they would get to keep it.”

He frowns. “I guess.”

Power over Tommy. Normally, he’d agree. Holding the discs over his head in the past has worked wonders. But the way Tommy looked, the way he came to them of his own volition, suggested giving up the discs himself—something about him has changed, and Sapnap’s no longer sure that it will be that simple. Because sure, his face when he gave them up was agonized, but then there was everything else, too, everything he said, the way he was acting, like he thought there was some bigger threat on the horizon, and that it wasn’t Dream.

Weird. Just, so weird.

“Alright, I guess we see how this goes, then,” George says.

“Yeah, we’ll see how it goes,” he echoes, and wonders why the words inspire such dread in him.

They go back to their movie. But though they sit together again, pressed into each other’s sides, none of them relax. The tension in the room does not leave, and he knows that none of them are paying attention to the movie at all, that all of them are lost in their own thoughts, and he resents it, a bit. He wants that easy camaraderie back. Wants his friends, his friends and simpler times, before war, before discs, before Tommy-fucking-Innit and all the rest of them. Just him and Dream and George, messing around, doing what they want, making a server into a home.

Simpler times seem like a long way away. Sapnap thinks about it long into the early morning, long after the credits stop rolling, and can’t come to a conclusion that satisfies him. Can’t find peace. He doesn’t think the other two can, either.

But then, he’s not sure what else he expected. Sometimes, he thinks he’s forgotten what peace means.

[instasiswetrust]

It feels good, to be complimented and recognized for his efforts. It feels good to know that the slaving away over books, skipping holidays, and surviving all of Jonathan’s pop quizzes and questioning has finally paid off. Sure, he’s still a student, an intern, just starting but he's already managed to make an important breakthrough in the case.

"You did a really good job back there; I can see great things in your future." Professor Brenner offers him a smirk, and there's an edge to it, something slightly threatening that makes Steve feel uncomfortable. The man is leaning in closer but he feels confused, but maybe he just can't hear him, right?

"That means a lot coming from you, Professor.” Steve’s smile is warm, but Jonathan had said he would wait for him back at the dorms and he’s itching to go see him. His outfit from today, and the way he basically killed the courtroom with his interrogation? Steve feels so proud of him and he needs to let his friend know.

It's a bad idea to be distracted because the next thing he knows, there's a rough hand pulling him closer by his jaw, and planting a messy, champagne-tasting kiss on his lips. The shock lasts for too long and by the time he registers what's happening, he can almost feel the champagne he just drank coming back up his esophagus. Everything about this made him feel sick, needing desperately to get away.

In the next second Steve’s punched him, desperately scrambling backward as he tries his best not to just throw up over the expensive designer wooden desk. Briefly, he thinks maybe he should just to spite Brenner but no, he just needs to get as far away from this place as he possibly can.

Brenner clicks his tongue, looking condescendingly down at him, as he makes a show of fixing his cufflinks. "I thought you were smarter than this, Steve."

"W-Was this.... the only reason you gave me a spot in your internship?" His eyes are wide, hurt, and tears are starting to gather at the edge of his vision. Brenner rolls his eyes at him, like he was a particularly annoying pest, and turns around to leave not before talking one last time, putting the last nail in the coffin that holds Steve’s worries and fears.

"Kindly see yourself out of my office. Your services will no longer be needed in the courtroom either so don't bother coming back again tomorrow."

A contemptuous laugh makes him stop in his tracks just a little way from the door. Teary doe eyes look up to find the two people he wished would never see him in this state, and from the smug curve of Nancy’s lips Steve can already imagine what bullshit his ex was about to spout. Can't even look at Barbara either, too afraid that he will finally break once he sees the disgust and judgment in her eyes.

"Well, hello there, Marilyn" Nancy mocks, and god, that hurts so much. That even now after proving everyone that he could be serious, that he was capable and intelligent, Nancy still thinks he's just a pretty face with nothing between his ears. "Looks like you'll make partner now. I mean, you really earned it.”

It makes him want to scream and punch her too, because how can she dare say something like that? But before he can say anything, Barbara beats him to it, throwing Nancy a muted glare.

"Nancy, shut up."

And she does, surprised by the tone of her best friend’s voice before scoffing and leaving to deliver the coffee to Brenner. Steve risks a look at Barbara and the pity in her eyes is crushing, only serving to make him feel even worse. It seems like she wants to say something but the words aren't coming, and she too leaves.

And that's it. He's full-on crying, muffled sobs as he tries to get back to the dorms where he can cradle the last dregs of his dignity that are still left, while he starts clearing off the room. Because he can't stay there anymore, lying to himself and thinking he could be somebody among these talented people.

Steve has to leave, maybe chalk it all up to experience. Pack his bags, drop off the key, call his parents and tell them he's coming back home. Back to the sun and the people he knows, to the place where he could dream within reach and people already know who he is. And when he gets home he could go out with his friends, Tommy could drive, drop the hood of his car, and Carol will hold him as he laughs and tells her how absurdly it was to think he could be someone out here in Harvard Law.

Jonathan is right there by the door as he promised, still clad in that outfit Steve had picked out for him. He's got his earbuds in but once Steve’s close enough that Jonathan can see him approaching, his whole face lights up.

[sparkleofpizza]

The archer - Tim Drake x reader 3/?

The archer - Tim Drake x reader 3/?

Requested: no

Warnings: swearing, flashback in italic

Taglist: @isthataladybag

Summary: Y/n Queen will be living in the Wayne Manor for a while, and Dick Grayson decided to be the Cupid between her and his little brother Tim Drake.

Word count: 2.918

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

Tim trusted Bruce. He trusted Bruce a lot, he was Batman after all, he took care of the city very well and would never let a known threat just live there normally. But Tim was a detective as well, he felt a bit bad for it, but he had to dig a bit on you. 

After finding out you are Oliver's sister and not Roy’s, and that you had been trained by Talia al Ghul, he realized he knows nothing about you or your past. If it was anyone else staying at his house, he would've already found out all of their secrets and everything they had ever done in their life. He couldn't let a silly crush get in the way, or your pretty conquer smile. He felt very bad for snooping around, but he had to do it. It was who he was. 

You were out for the day, you had to take care of a few papers at Gotham University since you would be studying there in a few days. You had invited Tim to accompany you, and he really wanted to, specially since you knew nothing about Gotham and could easily end up going somewhere dangerous (everywhere was a bit dangerous, but still). He told you he had to work on a few papers for Wayne Enterprises and suggested you invited Jason to join you. 

So now, there was Tim. Sitting alone in his room, laptop open, a mug of warm coffee by his side, and he was ready to look you up. He started typing, doing the thing he always does when he needs to dig dirty on people he is tracking for a case - he still felt terrible about doing this behind your back, but he pushed it to the back of his mind, it was just the crush he had on you talking louder than common sense. 

Y/n M/n Queen. Birthday: xx/xx/xxxx. Birth place: Star City.

Moira Queen - mother (deceased) 

Robert Queen - father (deceased)

Oliver Queen - brother

Emiko Queen - half sister

Tim started reading everything he could find about you. Good student with great grades, former cheerleader, socialite knowing for mingling with important people from Star City. Has been saved by the Green Arrow a few times when kidnaped for being a Queen, and then Deathstroke's victim. Footage of you out there being Silver, in the years where you were activated the most, now a days you're hardly ever seen as vigilant. Associated with Thomas Merlyn - mercenary, Malcom Merlyn - mercenary and assassin. Joined the League of Assassins for five months after being held as a prize on a fight between Malcom Merlyn and Oliver Queen, resulting in the loss of Oliver and you being sent to the League. Trained by the whole al Ghul family. Often associated with Roy Harper and Connor Hawke. Teamed up with Red Arrow and Kid Flash before. 

Tim was pleased he didn't find anything bad about you. All of this was ok, even the League of Assassins stuff. He was relived, but now was feeling ever guiltier than before. Should he tell you what he did? Would you be mad?

He closed his laptop, rubbing his eyes. Maybe he was just tired, that's why he did all of this. There was no need for you to know any of this.

"Drake." Damian said, barging into his room, hands behind his back and chin held up high "I think we need to discuss the fact that Queen is a former member of the League of Assassins."

Tim sighted "I already looked it up, she is fine, Damian."

"Then look it up again and harder. You are letting your feelings cloud your judgment."

And with that the little boy left. 

You were sitting at a cafe with Jason in Gotham Downtown. You had already delivered the missing papers at Gotham University, and now were enjoining an iced coffee with him. He had a hat and sunglasses on, trying to hide his identity, he was supposed to be dead and hasn't made his big debute just yet. 

"So... Dick seems to be trying to be the cupid between you and Tim." he commented, taking a sip of his Frappuccino "What do you think about that?"

You chuckled "I am certainly not opposed to that."

Jason's eyebrows shot up "Really? So you are crushing on my replacement?"

"Stop calling him that, you know he didn't want to replace you." you rolled your eyes, no you didn't know that, but from what you learned about Tim, you could tell that wasn't his intention when he took the mantle of Robin "And yes, I am crushing your brother. Although I have no idea what he wants from me."

The man in front of you rolled his eyes back at you, not like you could see trough the dark lenses covering his eyes. Of course you were crushing on him, if you were already willingly to defend Tim without even knowing everything.

"Dick wouldn't have came up with this idea if he didn't think Tim was interested in you as well. But, I can try and talk to him if you want to. Please, don't."

"Geez, why did you volunteer if you don't want to?"

"Because I am trying to be nice to you."

You shook your head, sipping on your iced caramel macchiato. You only hope that Jason don't rat you out to Roy, you don't want your brother to find out about you having a crush on Bruce's son thought Roy. God knows he didn't know how to keep the gossip to himself. 

"What's the deal with you being trained by the demon's mother?"

Ah there it was, the question you knew would come eventually. You regretted telling them the truth in the first place, but you also knew that if they found out later and on their own it would have been worse. They would probably think you were trying to hide it from them because of bad motives. It wasn't, you just didn't really like to look someone in the eyes and say hey, did you know I was trained by assassins? 

"I already said it isn't..."

"Yes, it is." he cut you off, not buying any of your bullshit "I know you are not the bad guy, if that is why you are afraid of telling me the truth. I just want to know what happened. I know how the league can be... brute."

You bit on your lower lip, staring off into distance.

The air was warmer than you remembered it from a few years ago, maybe it was because you were younger and was only trying to see the best into the situation - it was like a trip, right? 

You looked out of the window, watching the trees' leafs waving with the wind, people walking in a group outside, looking for any inconvenience. You wondered how long it would take for you to be killed if you decided to escape. 

"It is time for your training." Nissa al Ghul informed you, standing at the door of the room you were currently calling yours 

"Again?" you asked, not turning around to face her, you didn't want her to see your blank face "I just finished training with your sister."

Nissa sighted, pushing back the brown hair that was around her shoulders. Her hand left the handle of the sword tucked into her belt. She had promised Oliver that she would do her best to keep his sister out of harm ways, but there was only much she could do. Going against both her father and sister was not a smart idea, and although it wasn't often that she saw eye to eye with them, they were still her family, and Oliver and you were simple... friends? Maybe, that was a complex term. 

"Yes, again. My father is waiting for you and he doesn't like when people keep him waiting."

You nodded your head. There was no point in fighting like you did the first couple of weeks. You knew you were outnumbered, and God knows when your family is coming to rescue you, if they can succeed in doing so.

As you walked around, silent footsteps, no sign of your approach, you saw Ra's al Ghul. Before you could even blink, he had his sword down to your neck, you on your knees as you helplessly stared into his eyes. His angry eyes.

"Never keep your opponent waiting. It gives him the time to explore his surrounds and learn the best path to ambush you the moment you arrive."

You pushed his sword back, not caring that the blade cut into the palm of your hand. You allowed the blood to drip on the floor, pushing yourself off the floor and grabbing your bow and an arrow from the quiver on your back.

Fighting with Ra's made you think that maybe this was going to be your life from now on. Sparring everyday until you had to kill for the first time, then sparring harder until you got sent on a mission, for your first kill. You wondered if maybe you would be stopped by your brother and friends, if you would allow them, or if not, if they'd succeed in stopping you. 

"It was just Malcom's Merlyn fault." you stated, turning your gaze to Jason who was still staring at you "He provoked my brother into a fight, I was the prize. Malcom won and the league finally got a Queen so they could mold into the perfect assassin. Thankfully, Tommy joined Oliver and they both got me out of there."

Jason nodded, it wasn't a full story like he was expecting, but hey! He doesn't like to talk about his time at the league too. Hell, he thinks not even one of his brothers know fully everything that happened there with him. Somethings are better left unsaid, and apparently, for you, this was the case. He was ok with that, that was your story to be told, and if you didn't want to share it, then you didn't have to. 

"Yeah, Roy mentioned a couple of times how much of an asshole Merlyn can be." He said, earning a laugh from you

“He knows how to be a pain in the ass.” You nodded your head in agreement “I thought Bruce had said something about it to you guys.”

Jason shook his head, it was typical Bruce to not share informations with the rest of them. Jason learned from him how to be closed off and not share his feelings, even when Dick would bother him about it.

“No, he didn’t say anything.”

You persued your lips “Oliver asked him for help at the time, you know, because of Bruce’s connections to Talia. He wanted to know the best way to outsmart her. I thought at least one of you knew...”

“Bruce probably thought it was for the best to keep this kind of information away from Damian. He doesn’t like to talk about his time at the league, I don’t like to talk about my time at the league. Dick would’ve found a way to ask us how we feel about it, and Tim... he would’ve found a way to ask us how was our time there, trying to learn more.”

You nodded your head. You couldn’t blame Bruce for not talking, you were actually relieved he didn’t, that way the boys got to know you because they wanted to, and not to prove you weren’t an assassin living in their house. You’ve never even killed anyone before, so... maybe you should’ve started the conversation with Jason by stating that fact, it would’ve been better.

“I never killed anyone.” You addded, voice just above a whisper “I thought you should know that.”

“Well, then I am glad the league didn’t break you enough to start killing.” He smiled at you

Dick was sitting at the kitchen with his brothers. Damian was going on a rant about you, exclaiming everyone should keep an eye on you, just in case.

Dick grabbed a cookie from the plate, they were still warm, freshed baked. He could understand why his little brother was worried, but Tim looking you up?

“I already talked about it with her today.” Jason sighted, presssing his hand trough his face “She isn’t an assassin, Damian! Let this go!”

“I can’t believe you were digging dirty on her.” Dick said, shaking his head in disappointment “I thought you were crushing on her! Damian said he saw you guys almost kissing yesterday!”

Tim blushed “I just had to make sure she was who I thought she was. We knew nothing about her, now we do. Her parents are both dead, she doesn’t have a criminal record, and she’s never killed anyone before.”

You stopped dead in your tracks, frowning. Did you hear them correctly? Did they look you up just to make sure you weren’t a bad person? Ok, you understand them being wary of you after they found this whole league of assassins thing out, but Tim...? You just couldn’t believe he had the nerve to do this instead of asking you, you would’ve told him anything he wanted to know.

Maybe you were being a fool, trusting him blindly when you shouldn’t. You were being a fool for just starting to fall for this boy who clearly doesn’t trust you enough like you trust him, and clearly his crush on you means nothing.

Frustrated, you went back to your room, closing the door behind you. Right now, you were regretting having agreed to wait for Oliver to come back from his missions to look for an apartment to live in Gotham.

You grabbed your cellphone from the bedside table, clicking on the screen and then holding it up to your ear.

“Hi, I need to talk to you about something.” You said as soon as he picked up

“Hello to you, too.” Connor Hawke said on the other end of the line “Who ate your ice cream?”

You rolled your eyes. Once when you were younger, Roy ate all of the ice cream there was on the fridge and you were pissed for the rest of the day. Now, every time you are on a bad mood, they would ask who ate your ice cream. Very funny.

“Hi, Connor. How are you?” You asked after taking a deep breath, taking your anger out on your best friend wasn’t going to solve your problems

“I’m fine, but you apperently aren’t. So tell me, what did Gotham do to you? Or perhaps what did the Wayne boys did to you?”

You sighted, taking a sit on the bed, Connor knew you too well. He also knew the troubles you went trough growing up as a Queen and as the Green Arrow’s sister. He was always there for you, so he knew a lot how you coped with things and how certain small things had a big impact in your life.

You started by telling him about the sparring session you had with Jason and how it ended up with everyone finding out about you being trained by the league of assassins. And then proceeded to tell him about what you overheard at the kitchen.

“I know that me being part of Team Arrow should make me understand why Tim was researching about me. We have been betrayed by people close to us before, and I really want to be resenoble about this whole situation, but...”

“But you are upset about it. You wish he had came to you to ask you all this questions.” Connor finished up your train of thoughts

“Yes, God yes! I wish he would’ve just came to me, I would’ve told him anything he wanted to know, and damn, I know this makes me sound like a fool.”

“Just a little bit.” Your best friend laughed “I am happy to see you are developing feelings for him, even if I am a bit mad he was suspicious of you. But in our line of work, we should always be too careful.”

You pushed your hair away from your face, staring at the cream walls in front of your. Connor was right, you were overreacting because you were developing feelings Tim and you wanted him to trust you because trust is fundamental in a relationship. You couldn’t help but think that if it was the other way around, you would’ve done the same thing.

“You’re right. Thank you, Conny.”

“I am always right, and please, don’t call me Conny.”

You chuckled, flopping down on bed so you could rest your back on the soft mattress.

“Should I talk to him about it?” You asked quietly

“If it is going to make you feel better than you should approach him with the subject, if not, let him come to you, it will be a proof if it is worth nurtrishing feelings for him.”

After you ended the call, you kept thinking about what Connor had said. He did know how to give good advise, and waiting for Tim to tell you was indeed a good test to know if it was actually worth it to have a crush on him. Maybe you shouldn’t let him know you knew. Let’s see what he’s gonna do.

After all, he wasn’t the only one who came from a family that knew how to keep emotions on check.

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Field of Poppies Part 8

Summary: After being apart for six years, childhood friends Tommy and Amelia reunite under odd circumstances. Tommy is an outspoken young man and Amelia is pregnant and out on the streets. The bond of family can be unbreakable but it is tested often. Especially when Europe descends into war.

Part 8: Maxwell Thomas Shelby, the newest member of the Shelby family. 

            It happened one unseasonably warm fall day. September 16th, to be exact. Amelia was getting a glass of water from the kitchen, just minding her own business. It wasn’t until she stepped to the side when she noticed a bit of liquid trickling down her leg. At first, she was embarrassed, not sure what was happening. Then it dawned on her that it was most likely the start of what she’d been afraid of for almost nine months.

             “Uh…Pol?”

            Polly was writing carefully in a ledger in her office in the betting shop. “Have a question, love?” She asked, a bit distracted by numbers. It was early in the afternoon and the shop was abuzz with activity. Odds being shouted back and forth, money passing hands, and the sound of chalk on the blackboard. But Amelia had quietly flitted her way to Polly so she wouldn’t call attention to herself.

            “How would I know if my water’s broke?”

            That immediately grabbed Polly’s attention. The woman’s head shot up and she dropped her pen. “Your water broke?”

            “I er, I think so. I don’t know for sure though.” Amelia pulled up the hem of her skirt a bit.

            “Alright, let’s get you upstairs then, just in case.” Polly jumped up and rushed over to the young woman.

            “I-fuck!” Amelia suddenly shouted and doubled over when she felt her first contraction.

            The men in the shop all turned to look at her in confusion.

            Polly knew if anyone had the most sense in the home, it was her. “All of you clear out.” She ordered. “Now.”

            “Pol…” Danny looked a little lost. There was no way Tommy and Arthur would appreciate all of them leaving in the middle of taking bets.

            “I said get the fuck out!” Polly snapped; a bit louder. That was enough to convince them, as they all scattered. But she stopped Danny at the door. “Get Tommy, bring him back here, tell him she’s gone into labor and he needs to get here now.”

            “Yes, ma’am!”

            Polly got Amelia to sit down. “Take some deep breaths.” She soothed in a calmer voice.

            “Pol, I don’t think I’m ready.” Amelia was suddenly terrified. It was easy enough to say she wasn’t scared when she was just pregnant. But as she was getting ready to give birth, the reality was hard to ignore.

            “Well, that little boy is ready, so you’ll need to be too.”

~~~~~~~~            

            For a moment, Tommy thought Danny was playing a joke on him. But it became clear that Amelia was going into labor. So he ran the entire way back home.

            “Pol? Mel?” He called.

            “In the shop!” Polly yelled back. She was kneeling down next to Amelia, holding her hand and coaching her through her breathing. “Help me bring her upstairs.”

            Tommy froze a bit. Amelia looked panicked as she clutched Polly’s hand and gave little, shallow breaths.

            “Thomas, get your head outta your arse and help me!” His aunt stood up.

            Running on nothing but instinct, he scooped Amelia up into his arms and did his best to carefully bring her upstairs. Mid-way, Amelia let out a groan of pain.

            Tommy didn’t even have the words to comfort her. He had no clue what to say, all he could do was listen to Polly.

            “Go downstairs and get a heap of towels,” Polly instructed as he lay Amelia down on the bed. As Tommy dashed back downstairs, she helped Amelia sit up against the pillows. “As long as you keep breathing, you’ll be okay.” She promised as she helped the expectant mother strip down to her slip to make the delivery easier.

            Amelia had no time to be embarrassed, and she didn’t have a reason to either. Polly was like a mother to her and there wasn’t anyone else she trusted to deliver her child.

            Tommy came back upstairs in the blink of an eye, running purely off of adrenaline.

            “Set them down here.” His aunt instructed. She sat down by Amelia’s feel so she could check the progress of the labor.

            Tommy set the towels on the bed and stood frozen. He could remember the awful screams from the room when his mother was giving birth to Ada and Finn. It was terrifying and even though he was an adult when Finn was born, he was afraid his mother was going to die. It wasn’t the most outlandish thing. He’d heard of mothers who died during childbirth. What would that do to him if Amelia met with the same fate? He felt like his heart was in his throat and he had to push the thought away.

            “Tom…” Amelia reached out to him. Her hand was trembling slightly.

            “You want me to stay?” He asked, moving to take her hand.

            She didn’t even have to answer. Aside from Polly, there wasn’t anyone else there for her. Her parents didn’t care where she was or even if she was okay. The biological father was just as careless.

            “I’ll stay.”

     ~~~~~~~~~~      

            And he did. He didn’t move from his spot the entire time. Even when Polly when to wash a couple of towels or get a drink, he stayed.

            “Remember when Maisie was in foal?” Amelia asked, bringing up the conversation to take her mind off the contractions.

            It had been some time since Tommy had thought about the mare that they both loved so much. She was a paint pony, barely over fourteen hands with a long shaggy mane and a mark on her face that was the shape of a crescent moon. She was the first pony almost all of the Shelbys rode. When Amelia and he were about ten, Maisie gave birth to a beautiful filly they named Maybel.

            It was almost midnight as they crouched in the hay with a lantern in hand. They watched from afar, too curious to look away from the active birth. Charlie stood near, ready to intervene if needed. Amelia would always remember how Maisie tenderly cared for Maybel. Keeping her tiny foal close, and licking her damp coat. She and Tommy nearly stayed up all night so they could see Maybel stand on her wobbly legs for the first time. It seemed so effortless and beautiful. Now that Amelia was in the midst of it, she didn’t think it was as easy as Maisie made it look.

            “Yeah, she was a good horse. We gave her to a farmer out in the country when she got older. He needed a pony to keep his mule company.

            Amelia smiled. “That’s sweet. What about Maybel?”

            “Think we sold her to one of Charlie’s kin. One of their little girls took a liking to her if I can recall correctly.”

            That please Amelia. “Good, they deserved good lives. They were so kind.”

            “All horses do.” Tommy agreed.

            “Even that mean gelding who bit you and threw you off constantly?”

            “Major?” He chuckled. “That bastard made me a better rider.” He recalled when they were a bit older, maybe twelve, around the time he started to fancy his best friend. He took Amelia to the Yard to show off the new horse his uncle got. Tommy was allowed to ride him mainly because Charlie believed that a green horse was a good test for any Traveller boy.

            Major was the tallest horse he’d ridden at that time. He was a stunning creature, muscular and strong with a shiny, chestnut coat. But he was as mean as could be. Charlie said horses weren’t born mean, they were taught. No one knew exactly where Major had learned how to be so mean. They just knew that Charlie had rescued him from slaughter.

            And when Tommy took Amelia to see the gelding for the first time, he made the rookie mistake of turning his back to the beast.

            Amelia didn’t have enough time to warn him. Major stretched out his neck over the stall door and bit Tommy’s arm.

            It was humiliating to be bitten in front of the girl he had a crush on. But he loved the horse no matter how many times Major dumped him, bucked him off, tried to bite him, or pinned his ears back at him. Tommy knew he never would’ve become the rider he was without him.

            “I was scared of him,” Amelia remembered. “Everyone was except for you.”

            “He was just misunderstood.” Tommy shrugged. “He rode beautifully when he behaved.”

            Amelia watched him, her mind drifting away from the contractions she was trying to count. “You should see your eyes when you talk about horses.” She murmured. “You just light up, Tom.”

            His face burned up a little bit. “Well, I dunno.”

            “Maybe you take what you earned from the betting shop and put it into working with horses.” She suggested hopefully. Amelia figured that if she could draw Tommy away from the life of a bookie to someone who worked with horses, she would be doing him a favor. He’d be so much safer.

            “I plan to have horses.” He said. “Once we have it in the budget. We’ll have stables at our house in the countryside. That’s where Max can learn to ride.”

            It sounded so promising, even if it was a stretch to imagine it ever coming true. But Amelia knew that he was deflecting. Getting that house in the countryside would only be the result of getting money from God knows what. She didn’t completely know or understand Tommy’s plan of action, how he anticipated earning so much money. But she knew that no one earned the amount of money he was looking towards through honest means.

            But Amelia couldn’t give it any more thought. Another contraction hit her and she squeezed onto Tommy’s hand. “Getting closer.” She wheezed. “I’m so tired already.”

            “Try to relax best you can, like Pol said.” He soothed gently. “I’m right here.”

~~~~~~~~~~~           

            All in all, it only took about five hours from the time Amelia’s water broke in the betting shop. The sun was just starting to set as Polly helped guide the baby boy into the world.

            The first Tommy heard his son cry was heartbreaking. As the second oldest, he’d almost become deaf to babies crying. It was just a part of life. But when Max cried, it struck him right in the heart. This little bundle was now his responsibility until the day he died. It was something he didn’t take lightly.

            Amelia was exhausted but she let go of Tommy’s hand so she could reach for her baby.

            Polly wrapped up the wailing newborn in a blanket and placed him on Amelia’s breast. “He sounds healthy.”

            “I told you, she’s always right.” Tommy couldn’t help the smile on his face.

            Amelia was in too much awe to acknowledge Polly’s premonition. “Look at him, Tom.”

            Max’s face was all scrunched up as he cried, his little fist pressed up against his mother’s collarbone. He only had wisps of light brown hair but it was too early to tell his eye color.

            “Wow…” Tommy was stunned. He didn’t know what he’d feel when he first saw the child he promised to help raise. He figured it would be some sort of affection, who could look at a baby with malice? But he was taken aback by the devotion he felt immediately upon seeing Max.

            Amelia was completely overwhelmed as she cradled her son close to her chest. When she discovered she was pregnant, she was terrified. Everything about it scared her, her parents’ reactions, the father’s reaction, the reaction of friends. She was worried about how people would perceive her having a child out of wedlock. When she was disowned, she was angry at herself, angry at the man who assaulted her, angry at her parents for taking his side. She didn’t want to be pregnant. She didn’t want to be a mother. There was no way she would be able to care for a newborn. She felt lost and hopeless.

            But there, in Birmingham, holding her son, all of those fears and worries felt foolish. All of a sudden, she was willing to jump through hoops for her son, fight an army single-handedly to keep him safe. She would starve, be penniless, even die if it meant keeping him safe. This tiny little being was suddenly all that mattered to her in the world. And it brought tears to her eyes knowing that he depended on her. That he would look up to her and expect her to be her best. She needed to be her best for him.

            For nearly ten minutes, Amelia silently sobbed as she held Max. She softly whispered her promises to him. Whispered how much she loved him. Whispered how he would never know the struggles she had known.

 ~~~~~~~~~

            A couple of hours after Max was delivered, Amelia was wiped out. She fell asleep as Tommy went downstairs to introduce his son to the rest of the family.

            “Everyone, I’d like to introduce Maxwell Thomas Shelby, the newest addition to the family.” Tommy propped Max up a bit in his arms so everyone could see him.

            His siblings drew close to see their nephew.

            “Healthy looking lad, aye?” Arthur smiled, proud of his brother for stepping up for Amelia’s sake.

            “Now we’ve got two babies in the house?” John grimaced. “We’ll never get any sleep.” The teenager protested. 

            “I think he’s cute,” Ada said. “Is he and Mel gonna stay with us forever?” She asked hopefully.

            “Yeah, Ada, I think they are.” Tommy looked down at Max fondly.

 ~~~~~~~~~          

            Tommy couldn’t sleep and it wasn’t because Max was keeping him up. In fact, the baby was sleeping quite soundly in his cot. He’d cried about an hour earlier and Amelia had nursed him back to sleep. Now both mother and child were fast asleep in the same room. Tommy was sitting next to the cot, his back to the wall. He watched Max through the bars of the crib, watching every breath he took. Tommy wasn’t sure if he was scared by how fragile the newborn seemed to be, or if he was still in a bit of shock. He wondered what this little boy would grow up to be. Would he like horses as much as Tommy did? Would he look up to him?

            It was a bit frightening to look so far into the future and realize all that could potentially happen to any of them. The uncertainty drove Tommy mad. He wanted to give Amelia and Max everything they deserved, he just wished he knew the future so he could know he was going down the right path. He wanted to know that he would uphold his promise.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @giftofdreams @biba3434 @kimmietea @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997 @tarafaithe

Tag list: @shelbyblinded

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[movienotesbyzawmer]

October 23: Friday The 13th - A New Beginning

(previous notes: Friday the 13th - The Final Chapter)

In case you're just joining us, I have committed myself to the task of watching each of the eight Friday the 13th movies that came out in the 80s, taking notes as I watch them, then posting those notes. I'm about to watch the fifth movie.

And hey, is it time to just recap the "story" so far? I mean… sure, I guess. It all started in 1958, when a little boy named Jason drowned at Camp Crystal Lake. Supposedly the camp counselors responsible for keeping an eye on him were distracted with their recreational boinking. That's how the story goes… however, what we see in 1958 is two camp counselors boinking and then getting murdered by someone with ostensibly no related drowning event. Anyway, Twenty years later Jason's mom stalks some camp counselors that are at that camp and kills them very violently. She gets beheaded before she can kill the last counselor, but then that counselor gets pulled into the water by ghoulboy Jason; she survives this only to be murdered by him in her house at a later date.

Meanwhile another facility down the shore from Camp Crystal Lake (and I might add that the actual eponymous lake doesn't appear to be any bigger than the apparel section of a Target) has some new counselor trainees on a retreat of some kind. Jason has quickly matured from a swampy child-monster to a hooded, but otherwise sharply-dressed psychopath who doesn't say anything. He kills everyone at this retreat except for one girl who seems to kind of get him. Also maybe her boyfriend survives, we never really get an answer on that, but she is familiarly hauled away by an ambulance and forgotten about. Jason keeps his killing spree going quite indiscriminately, but focusing on another group of young people that are hanging out at a nearby ranch. He kills everyone there, plus some other people he found, except for one girl who survives long enough to get pulled into the water by a ghoul that is probably a Jason's Mom Thing. We don't know what happens to her, but she definitely did not stay dry.

The hospital where that last batch of victims ended up got a little bit murdered up. Jason was in there because he was thought of as one of the victims somehow, maybe a deliberate playing-dead trick because he does like to do stuff like that. He heads back to the woodsy area around Crystal Lake and decides to pick on the residents of two area houses. He does lots of killings but a brother and sister from one of those houses stab him so many times that he just can't get up an murder them. But in the process of that, the brother might have caught some evil. Is this the final chapter. Will there be a new beginning. Soon the contents of Disc 5 will reveal all.

(I have not seen this movie btw)

It opens very differently from the others… someone on a raincoat is walking urgently through the woods during a nighttime storm. It's Corey Feldman! He approaches Jason's grave in the woods! Like totally a grave with a headstone that says Jason Voorhees. But also two hooligans were on their way to that grave; they want to dig Jason up! CF is hiding and watching that; the hooligans don't know about him. They want to see Jason's body, and when they succeed with that, it stabs them to death because Jason was buried with a bunch of his favorite weapons. Plus also wearing the hockey mask. He's about to kill CF when whoever was dreaming this dream wakes up in a van that appears to be for crazy people of some kind. I don't recognize anyone, but maybe the dreaming person is grown-up CF? Probably that. Not played by CF, though.

His name is Tommy. I think that was CF's character's name so yeah it's him. I wonder if he's still into video games. He's being delivered to an institute of mental health. A nice couple is in charge, a Nice Woman and a Nice Man who make it sound like it will be Nice there.

Tommy looks wistfully at a picture of his mom and sister. The sister survived the last movie ostensibly so what is the deal with her.

Reggie the Reckless is a character that introduces himself to Tommy quite confrontationally. He is only about 11 and he likes to scare people; he clearly thinks he's going to totally pwn Tommy with pranks, but Tommy is apparently still into monster masks so he responds in a horror-mask way that earns some cred with Reggie the Reckless.

We get a glimpse at the motley cast of teens and young adults that populates this youth mental facility slash work farm place… and then two old killjoys show up to scold everyone for being crazy. These two killjoy characters are the most broadly performed caricatures we've seen since the "you're all doomed" old guy. Their acting is the kind of acting you see at the Renaissance festival, except without the half-assed English accents.

One of the kids at the institute is just a well-meaning dork with chocolate smears on his face that everyone hates… one guy hates him so much that he murders him! With an axe! Chocolate Smear was trying to strike up a conversation with a man who was angrily chopping wood, and bothered him so much that he axes him right there in front of others and in broad daylight! This story I tell you, it is a veritable New Beginning.

New characters. Leather Jacket Assholes, are talking about the murder at the nuthouse. They are in the woods nearby and one of them goes to take a leak while the other tries to fix something wrong with the car. They both get some kind of killed! The first one, the killer shoves a lit flare in his mouth, and the other one gets his throat slashed while he's acting very cocky and charismatic in the front seat of the car. Lit flare death is better even though it looks very fake.

But now we're back at the workhouse institute place and they're all mournful because of that odd and traumatic axe murder. Someone tries to be playfully scary with a monster mask and Tommy flips out and beats him up! This is a drama about the dysfunctional relationships between the involuntary residents of a workhouse.

Ugh, now we're back on the Killjoy characters. They are extremely unpleasant to behold. I hope Jason really is still killing people and that he takes care of those two irritants.

New characters, a waitress at a café and a hot doggin' yuppie in a muscle car trying to impress her, It seems like it's always important in these movies to have loud asshole characters, but there are really a lot of them in this one. If it's because they think we want to see assholes get killed… they have a point.

Hot Dog was doing some coke lines in his car waiting for the waitress when he very abruptly, but not unpredictably got axed right in his bald spot! Then the waitress comes out to find him and gets axed in the sternum. Those two, and the leather jacket dudes, don't have any ostensible relationship to the workhouse kids, although the leather dudes mentioned hearing about the murder there. Are we supposed to suspect that Jason is following Tommy and killing randos in the area surrounding where he is?

So there's this couple, a frisky, playful couple that are, I think, residents at the mental health facility, but they smolder with the carefree lust of what can only be described as camp counselors. They sneak off into the woods to get naked and fool around! An old man is watching them! The old man gets knifed in the gut! Then the girl of the couple gets sheared to death while the guy is taking a break somewhere. But he returns to find what happened to her - we see that he sheared her right in the eyes, it's gross! Then he gets a very good death; the killer secures him to a tree with a leather strap, which he tightens and tightens and tightens with his makeshift branch-crank until his skull is crushed! This consistent ingenuity of homicide methodology can only come from the one, the only, the master, Jason Voorhees.

New character alert… I kind of like this part! So Reggie the Reckless is given a ride to visit his big brother at the trailer park where he lives. Reggie and Big Brother are really happy to see each other! They get along very, very well! Big Brother even offers Reggie an enchilada! We don't see the enchilada! They're in a van, not even a trailer, and the dialogue plainly tells us that Big Brother has an enchilada next to him that he makes available to Reggie! Reggie does not accept the proffered enchilada! It is funny that we do not see what the enchilada looks like! What does an enchilada in a van look like!

Meanwhile Tommy gets into big trouble because someone nearby with this movie's requisite asshole level notices him waiting around near the trailer park, and correctly surmises that he is from the nearby mental health facility. This asshole starts a fight and Tommy has incredible martial arts skills so he beats up the asshole. Why does he have those skills.

Big Brother had to go to the outhouse immediately for enchilada-related reasons after Reggie left. He and his girlfriend have a cute exchange while he's in there, and just when I think that I like it when this movie's assholes die and plus I also like Big Brother, he and the girlfriend get killed. Big Brother gets perforated with metal spikes that are shoved at him through the walls of the outhouse. I am disappoint. This is probably this series' version of the first ten minutes of Up.

Oh, so the Killjoy characters… one of them was the guy that Tommy beat up, and the other one is his mom. Yeah, they hate the mental health facility, so it make some sense that he would pick a fight with Tommy so rashly. He returns home on his motorcycle but he's so mad about getting beat up that he just rides around outside his house, raging loudly about getting thumped and demanding that his mom do something about it! But he gets beheaded by a knife that takes advantage of his perpetual motorcycle operation. Then a butcher knife comes through the window at his mom and she's dead, face down in some soup cauldron she'd been obsessing over.

A word about the character with the speech impediment. One of the workhouse kids stutters. Inclusion! He just had some awkward interactions with the couple of ladies in the house and then turned around and saw a raised butcher knife. No more stuttering guy.

I should mention, the glimpses we've gotten of the killer are very, very unrevealing. The movie is making sure we don't have enough information to conclude for sure that it is Jason, although sometimes Tommy has visions of Jason standing somewhere and looking at him.

Another character died that's in that house. A girl gets naked and goes to bed, sees the body of the stuttering guy that has been placed there to frighten her, and then gets macheted through the mattress.

Then another killing. This character who has been vividly characterized throughout as "girl who is only always ever listening to music that she is clearly super into so much that no one is able to talk to her", she's being like that in her room and the killer just goes in and stabs her in the gut.

Reggie and the Nice Woman find those last three bodies stacked on a bed, and they run away, but on their way out of the house, Jason, total actual Jason, bursts through a door at them! He has great posture and wears a clean jumpsuit. They run away into the nearby woods and see an old-fashioned station-wagon ambulance. They open a door of it and a body is in it! I don't recognize the victim but there have been a lot lately. But also look.. Jason! Nearby! They run away.

The two get separated and Nice Woman comes upon Nice Man spiked through the head into a tree, so very dead! I don't remember what we last saw of him.

She runs back to the main house, and the cook, who is Reggie's grandfather, is thrown through the window at her! He has been murdered! Murdered I tell you! She runs away.

Jason is slowly chasing her with his machete as she stumbles through the mud. He is about to kill her but then he is distracted by a tractor coming at him, operated by Reggie! Reggie actually runs him down with the tractor! It's actually a bulldozer. He bulldozed Jason!

He looks dead but then he grabs her leg. And then they run away.

A very exciting confrontation ensues in the nearby barn where they run. Jason slowly pursues them in there, and the woman comes at him with a chainsaw. They sort of swordfight but with chainsaw and machete.

Tommy, who has been we-don't-know-where, arrives and the dynamic changes because of the strange connection Jason and Tommy have. Or at least Tommy thinks they have a connection… Jason just walks up to him and slashes him with the machete.

Everyone moves up to the loft of the barn. Tommy looks very badly laid out, so between Reggie and the woman a big struggle happens. But it ends with Jason getting his hand chopped off by Tommy, and Jason falling onto the ground which has this odd grid of metal spikes that kill him just fine.

But! The mask comes off, and it isn't Jason! Isn't Jason at all! It's one of the men we've seen around, I forget who.

Oh, the next scene explains it all. It was "Roy". Roy was one of the cops, or paramedics (?), who responded to the weird axe murder of the Chocolate Smear kid. It turns out that he is the father of Chocolate Smear, and he did all the murders as a very unstable response to that. And The news clippings he was carrying out explain that he decided to make it look like a Jason murder spree.

The movie ends with Tommy having a dream about murdering the woman, waking up in a hospital room and having a Jason phantom vision, then looking at a hockey mask that is in a drawer of his hospital room's dresser! Then there is a quick final couple of shots that suggest that he has insanely put the hockey mask on and is gonna knife the woman when she enters the room to visit him. The credits roll as he's about to probably stab her.

So this was kind of hard to get through. I mean, they are all bad movies, and objectively it seems like number 4 was worse than this one. But I was less inclined than normal to fight through the disinterest. It's worth noting that they were clearly trying for some semblance of a "new beginning", and they even managed to make it that while also explaining how this is a continuation of the Jason story. And there was all the grisly death you could want, which is what we're here for in the first place. But none of the scares were good or memorable, and they're making no effort to one-up the earlier movies in terms of gore effects. And I really lost track of the characters. Except for the ones I hated.

(next: Friday the 13th Part VI - Jason Lives)

[hellimagines]

Pop Tart -- Billy Hargrove

Masterlist

Request: “I had this idea that the reader is new to Hawkins. This catches Billy’s attention like everyone else’s because there hadn’t been a new kid since him. So he, somewhat, takes her under his wing because she’s the new kid this the beginning of their friendship. And it goes from there. Since she’s Billy’s new friend/crush, she has to hang out with Tommy and Carol since he does (and they’re attached at the hip by now). So when Billy walks away with Tommy for a minute (maybe they’re at a party?), Carol starts to talk to her about Billy. Like telling her to stay away from him because she’s been trying to get with Billy since he moved there. This ends in the reader and Carol getting into a fight and Billy and Tommy pulling it apart ❤️” & “If you don’t mind, i’d like a Billy Hargrove x reader imagine request where the reader is pretty much a female version of Billy (smokes, likes rock music, leather jackets, emo pretty much) and she’s the new girl in Hawkins and Billy like bumps into her or something one day at school in the hall or whatever and then Billy begins to have feelings for her and she kinda teases him about it and flirts with him until he breaks and admits he likes her?” - @kaitlinlexiexx

Summary: You and Billy grow close after moving to Hawkins, and after you get into a fight, feelings are revealed. 

Warnings: a fight…? Is that a warning?

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,541

A/N: Okay, this is probably not gonna be too hot because these requests are pretty damn identical to Caught in Your Eyes aka, my baby. So uhhhhhh, yeah, RIP. I changed it up too because of that, I’m sorry, and it’s kinda short. Don’t kill me pls and thx ily guys (and idk where the name pop tart came from)

You didn’t know what to expect from your first day at Hawkins High. But a beefy arm being a slung around your shoulder in a near-headlock was sure as hell not one of them. You had been at your locker, exchanging the books you would need for your next class, when a sudden shout had caught your attention.

“New girl! Just the person I’ve been looking for!” The claim caused you to scowl instantly, your eyes narrowed as you slammed your locker. You had no idea where the voice had come from, so when a boy had come up from behind you and wrapped his arm around you, you were shocked.

“Hey, buddy! Get your hands off’a me, would ya?” you growled, trying to shoulder his arm off of you.

“Now, now, listen here, pop tart-”

“The hell did you just call me?”

“Listen, I was the new kid once too-”

“Isn’t that sentimental, now let me the fuck go.”

“-and I know how hard it can be. New school, new students, new town. Sucks, yeah? So why don’t you ride with me, and we can be new kids together.”

“This sounds like some kind of cheap-ass sales pitch to get me out of town,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes.

“But, did it work?” the blond questioned hopefully, a grin spread across his face.

“Of course not. I don’t even know you,” you snapped, finally managing to get yourself free from his arm. You checked the shoulders of your leather jacket to make sure it was alright, before looking back at him. “And you, don’t even know me.”

“Alright, fair enough. Let’s get to know each other then,” he offered, leaning against your locker with his legs crossed.

“This whole encounter has given me whiplash. Why would I want to know you?”

“Because I’m Billy Hargrove, King of Hawkins, and I’ve just made your whole day.” You laughed loudly at that, tilting your head back at the thought.

“You? You think you made my day? My day hasn’t even begun! And why anyone would pass a crown on to you, is beyond me.”

“I stole it. Monarchies work both ways, Tart,” he snickered, flashing you a wink.

“Well, hasn’t somebody read up on their history,” you said, rolling your eyes once more. “I’ve got to get class, your highness. So if you don’t mind, I will not be catching you around.” You spun on your heel, and marched away from the speechless blond, shaking your head with a fond smile as you went.

As the weeks went by, Billy’s pestering turned into idle, friendly chit-chat. You slowly found yourself intermingling with his two other friends, Tommy and Carol, without even realizing it. You and Billy were seen together quite a bit, usually with him bugging you, or you asking him for help on your history assignments. But either way, a reputation began to build.

“You know,” Tommy suddenly spoke one day at lunch, “I haven’t thrown a party in a while.”

“That’s because the last one you threw ended with an eighth of the party being arrested,” Carol grumbled, popping the gum in her mouth.

“Woah, Car’, I’m surprised you were able to do the math with that,” Billy spoke sarcastically, earning a harsh punch to the shoulder from her. Billy winced and grabbed his shoulder, glaring at the dirty blonde. You scowled as well, absentmindedly reaching up to rub his shoulder as you ate an apple beside him. You weren’t entirely aware of Billy’s home life, but you did have some inkling suspicions, so you found yourself being slightly protective of the injuries he received at school.

“Anyways, I think I’m gonna throw one this weekend. But I need help setting up,” Tommy declared, looking at each of you individually. That was when you realized that you had indeed, begun riding with Billy Hargrove, King of Hawkins High. “Carol will get the alcohol and drugs, and whatever the fuck else you want, Billy and (Y/N), you guys get the food and drinks. And I’ll clean up and barricade the place. We have two days!”

“What makes you think anyone is gonna show up with such little notice?” you questioned, resting your chin on your folded arms, that resided on the table.

“Because I’m Tommy. They love my parties!”

“You guys are so egotistical.”

“Which is why you fit in great, Tart,” Billy snickered, flashing you a wink.

When the two of you got to Tommy’s house that weekend, the party was already in full swing. You had stopped by earlier to deliver the snacks and drinks you and Billy had gone to pick up, and it had been quiet and isolated then. But now, there were teenagers everywhere.

“Aha! My favorite new kids!” Tommy shouted over the crowd, gaining your attention. You gave him a raised, leather-clad wave, before following Billy over to him.

“Looks good, per usual,” Billy passed, scanning the crowd briefly, before settling his eyes back onto you. Carol walked over to you guys not a moment later, her hair perfectly curled and wearing a perfect outfit.

“Hmm, didn’t think you’d actually show, (Y/N),” she said thoughtfully, eyeing you momentarily before smiling brightly at Billy and Tommy. “Boys. Pleasure to see you both,” she grinned, reaching up to ruffle both of their locks. Billy was quick to dodge the attack, but Tommy leaned into the touch, practically preening. You rolled your eyes and allowed Billy to shuffle closer to you.

“Come help me get drinks, Tommy,” Billy groaned, tugging on the other boy’s sleeve and practically pulling him away from Carol. Carol watched them disappear into the kitchen before her attention was hyper-focused on you.

“What is your plan?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

“I’m sorry?”

“Your plan. With Billy, what is it?”

“I don’t have a plan with him. He’s a great friend, and I love him for it,” you shrugged, eyeing her carefully.

“That’s good. Because I’m planning on making a move. I’ve had my eye on him since November, and Tommy just isn’t cutting it right now. I want Billy and his muscles,” she sighed, and you gaped at her.

“That’s despicable, Carol. Tommy loves you, so much. Billy doesn’t. Don’t ruin their friendship and break Tommy’s heart, just because you ‘want Billy’s muscles’. I won’t let you do that,” you said, fully turning on her.

“You can’t tell me what to do. If I want Billy, then I’ll get Billy. If I hurt Tommy, then I’ll hurt Tommy,” she scolded, shoving at your chest twice, sending you stumbling back. Before you could register what was happening, your fist was swinging towards her, and slamming into her cheekbone. You couldn’t tell who was hurt more by the blow; your hand or her cheek, but both of you shouted at impact. Carol lunged at you after she recovered, and both of you were soon tumbling on the floor of Tommy’s living room, echoes of ‘Fight! Fight!’ surrounding you. You were on top of her, one hand over her throat, and the other slamming into her face while she clawed at your own face, pulling on your hair, and kicking at you to get you off.

Suddenly, however, you were pulled off of Carol. Strong arms were wrapped around your middle, squeezing the air out of your lungs as you were whipped through the crowd, shouting and yelling. “Put me down! Put me the fuck down!” you screamed, trying to escape their hold. Your carrier eventually transported you to the vacant front yard, setting you down outside of a blue Camaro.

“What the hell was that, (Y/N)?” Billy questioned, and you were startled to see that it was him.

“She deserved it, Billy. You don’t understand, she was being a… a bitch,” you tumbled out, tugging on your hair in frustration.

“What did she say to you?” he asked, gently prying your hands out of your hair, and holding onto them.

“She… she said she wanted you, and she was willing to hurt Tommy in the process. All because you have muscles. You’re more than that, so much more than that. And she can’t do that to Tommy, the only person who actually loves her. It’s so wrong, Billy, and I couldn’t let her do that!” you repeated, voice raised a pitch.

Billy hushed you, moving you so that you were against his chest. “Hey, it’s alright. I wouldn’t have said yes anyway,” he hummed, shocking you.

“You wouldn’t have?”

“No, of course not. Pop tart, I’ve had my eye on you since the day I saw you. And getting to know you became the best decision of my life, and I’m so happy we’re as close as we are,” he confessed, his palm placed against the side of your face. You gazed up at him, a smile slowly forming.

“Well, Billy Hargrove, isn’t that wonderful,” you giggled, quickly leaning up to silence whatever he was about to say. You kissed him gently, relishing in the feeling of his lips against yours. “You’re so much more than your muscles, and Carol will never get to find that out,” you whispered against his lips before kissing him once more.

All Writing Taglist (OPEN): @teageowen @mads---world

[a-libra-writes]

How the Peaky Blinders React To You Being Shy

ok so the original request was “could you do how they would react when their girlfriend is very quiet but talks a lot when she's excited but kind of cuts herself off in fear of talking too much?” but then i uh ,, ,went overboard like i do so here yall go lmao. bad title is bad

In this imagine, you’ll be with: Tommy Shelby, Arthur Shelby, John Shelby, Ada Shelby, Polly Grey, Michael Grey, Alfie Solomons, Isaiah Jesus, Luca Changretta, Aberama Gold

TOMMY SHELBY

Even if you had worked for the Shelbys for more than a year, he hardly talked to you directly. You were so quiet, and while you were very pretty, the shy sort of girls just didn’t catch Tommy’s attention. This changed on a day when he stopped by Charlie and Curly’s, and saw you excitedly talking to them about a horse Tommy had just bought. When he made himself known, you went red in the face, clammed up and shied away while Charlie talked to him. 

First of all, it was strikingly cute, and Tommy didn’t often think that about anything. Secondly, he hated the idea that you might be anxious around him. Tommy said you could come see and ride the horse anytime, and still after that, kept trying to talk to you and see your eyes light up again. 

Once you two are in a relationship, whenever you start excitedly talking about something, he’s quiet and pays complete attention to you. You’re still as quiet and shy as the day he  met you, but not to him - which he privately likes. He enjoys being one of the few people you open up to.

ARTHUR SHELBY

From the day you first started working for the Shelbys, Arthur thought you were gorgeous. He completely lost his train of thought when he walked in and saw you, and John had to snap his attention away. He tried talking to you best as he could, but you were so quiet, and often had trouble looking at him. Arthur was convinced that you didn’t like him, so he tried to give up on his crush, as much as it hurt. (Okay, well, he couldn’t stop thinking about you that easily, so he just admired you from a distance).

One day he saw you outside the shop for the first time, and couldn’t keep himself from seeing what you were doing. You were bundling up a cat you found on the street. If that wasn’t precious enough, you were happy to see him and chattered about the cat, how you’d been feeding it and earning it’s trust, and you wanted to take it back home to treat its wounded leg. He walked you back home and once there, you blushed and clammed up, and apologized for taking up so much of his time. Arthur blurted you could have as much of his time as you wanted.

He visited you every day, using the cat as a lame excuse, and before long you two were dating. He was so relieved you weren’t afraid of him, he couldn’t help but confess as soon as possible. Whenever he gets you talking about something you like, he can’t help but grin and look at you like you hang the moon. He does tend to be protective of you, especially in big crowds, and he gets an adorably jealous expression whenever you chat animatedly with his brothers. 

JOHN SHELBY

He was drawn to you right away, so he wasted no time in trying to chat you up and get to know you, even when Polly scolded him many times to let you focus on your work. You shied away so much and made excuses that he worried you were scared of him. John tried to brush that off, but it ended up bothering him more than he wanted it to. It was Ada who told him he was coming on way too strong, you were a shy and sweet sort of girl who didn’t need him messing with her heart (that last part may have ended with a not so subtle threat).

John wasn’t deterred, though. He just had to get to know you better, and when he he caught you outside of work, he noticed you were admiring several cars. This was his chance, and he was grinning like a dork once you began chattering away at different models of automobiles and engines. He absolutely showed you the Shelby car and even drove you home several times after work. 

John is still much louder and more outgoing than you. During parties he'll take a minute to ask if you're comfortable and won't hesitate to take you home, he also makes a point to have everyone shut up if you want to say something during a family meeting. He loves it when you explain things to him because of how you word it and your voice - he could listen to you rattle off a weather report. 

ADA SHELBY

Ada was drawn to your sweetness right away. She didn’t have many friends herself when you met, and while you were bashful, you were also honest. Ada always encouraged you to speak up for yourself and to not be afraid of other people’s opinions, especially after she stopped seeing her family for a while. 

She adores how you light up when you talk about something you love, and she’ll always shush someone if you’re talking like this. It makes her SO angry when someone tries to speak over you. If you ever feel insecure about being shy or introverted, Ada will quickly tell you it’s one of your most endearing traits … though you’re certain she thinks anything you do is “endearing”. 

POLLY GRAY

She wasn’t so sure about hiring someone outside the family for some bookkeeping and secretariat work, but Polly was impressed with your punctuality, thoroughness, and most importantly … You kept your mouth shut. Polly was the most hesitant to hire you at first, but once you proved your loyalty, she was quick to get to know you personally. She really felt you ought to speak up more, and not be so shy; especially in their line of business. 

Pol has no regard for anyone who tries to talk over you or intimidate you, and anytime the Shelby boys (or anyone else) tries to flirt, they tend to get a glare from her. To say Pol is protective of you is a bit of an understatement; sometimes you worry she sees you more like a little girl than a woman.

Still, she means well, and it’s Polly who invites you to tea at her house and gets you to laugh and chat about all sorts of things. She’s very relaxed around you, and has confided in you many times, confident you’ll keep her secrets, as you keep the secrets of the Shelby company.

MICHAEL GRAY

At first, Michael got a little frustrated with you. He was fond of you, but he didn’t understand why you were seemingly afraid of him - okay, maybe he didn’t have the friendliest expression sometimes, and maybe you overheard him arguing business, but sometimes you’d just spend almost an hour in the same room together, saying nothing. Finally Polly had to give him advice, she thought you were a nice girl and not the type to be impressed by jewels and extravagance.

So, Michael started to do soft small talk and would bring you something nice, like a small vase of flowers for your desk or a cute box of sweets. You didn’t care for the grand parties that he’d partake in, so after work he’d linger behind and ask about your evening plans - probably slip and ask about a boyfriend, too. One of these evenings he got you chattering, and it was such a change, seeing your eyes light up and your cute smile as you talked. You both ended up staying way later than intended, and Michael was even later to the party because he wanted to drive you home. 

Even after you’ve been dating for a while, Michael wants to spoil you with beautiful things and have you on his arm at parties and important business meetings. When he notices you start to shy away, he’ll ask if you’re alright and if you want to leave early. He always has a driver on hand to take you home if that’s what you wish, though he obviously prefers to do this himself. He has zero patience for anyone trying to egg you into talking more or asking pointed questions; he’ll shut them down harshly. 

ALFIE SOLOMONS

You were one of the secretaries for their “legitimate” store fronts, one that Alfie had to visit often, and holy shit if you weren’t the cutest thing he’d ever seen. He always liked to tease the new secretaries once or twice, but you were the only one who lit up like a fire engine and stammered. He told your boss to make sure you were working the days he came in, and he’d spend several minutes teasing you and getting you to blush before starting business. 

He did feel a little bad for always flustering you, and he wasn’t totally sure if you even appreciated the attention, so he figured he’d buy some flowers as an apology and (maybe) let up on teasing you. The thing is, you gave him the sunniest smile when he delivered them, and you started to chatter about the flowers with total confidence. You didn’t even shy away from his gaze or stumble over your words, you were so excited about whatever rare lily he bought - is that what it was? - and when your boss walked in to greet him, you clammed up. Alfie immediately told the man to fuck off and go back into his office.

After you’re together, Alfie still likes to good-naturedly tease you, but he’s great at getting you to chatter away at this or that. He encourages you to be more confident, but he knows it isn’t that easy. If anyone attempts to talk over you or interrupt, they get a terrifying glare from your boyfriend. 

ISAIAH JESUS

Isaiah was SO sure you were just being aloof on purpose, that you were making him go through some kind of test. He heard about girls doing things like that, so he’d talk big game around you to impress you … Only to glance over and noticed you had walked away at some point. His father thought the crush was amusing, and it was him who said you were a shy girl who needed a gentler touch. Isaiah worried he’d mess it up somehow, but it ended up coming to him easily. His favorite thing was to stop by when you were leaving your workplace, so he could take you for a quick bite to eat, or he’d show up on your break to give you flowers or some sweets he just “happened” to have. 

Once he found out how far your house was from your home, Isaiah liked to walk with you in the evenings. First the conversation was short and a little awkward, but then he started asking questions and got you talking, which he was very proud of. He’d quickly ignore anyone calling out to him in favor of walking and chatting with you. His friends would tease him once he finally showed up at the Garrison, but he’d just talk about how pretty and sweet you were, zero shame in his voice as he went on about his crush. It wasn’t too long before he asked you out.

Isaiah prefers to keep you separate from his gang life. Admittedly, he used to treat you like you were too fragile to handle the truth, but you quickly proved him wrong when you treated his wounds and scolded him for worrying you. Whatever you’re interested in, he likes to find out more about it so he can surprise you. 

LUCA CHANGRETTA

Luca often flirts with the new girls who work for his family, and he found you especially charming. Once he realized how shy you were, he became gentler with his words, speaking to you in a more flattering way, loving how red your cheeks would get. He started to become very fond of you, and even a little protective - if his men tried to flirt as well, he’d irritably tell them to keep to themselves. He wished he could talk to you and learn more about you, but he also didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. 

His wish was swiftly granted during the huge Christmas celebration his family always threw. They invited everyone from closest family to minor acquaintances, so of course you were there. Not only were you radiant in your dress, you were talking animatedly to some friends, and Luca couldn’t stop staring. He wanted to step in, to have you talk to him and look at him that way, but he didn’t want to interrupt the story you were telling, so he just listened. 

The next he saw you, he made a point to casually bring up whatever you were talking about, and he tried to contain his happiness at how you began happily chatting away like you did with your friends. When you blushed and apologized for it, he was quick to ask you questions to keep you talking. 

ABERAMA GOLD

Pretty girls often caught his eye, and not only were you that, you seemed to be the only quiet, reasonable person amongst the Shelbys. He liked to observe you, watching in amusement how you’d take careful notes, making little expressions as you wrote: rolling your eyes, biting your lip and so on. He casually asked after you when Arthur was drunk and got plenty of information. Whenever he’d see the Shelbys for business, Aberama made a point to say hello to you and exchange some words.

It was just fun flirting at first, but then he sent you into chatterboxing and when your hands hastily flew to your mouth to shut it, Aberama grabbed your wrists without thinking and asked you to please continue. Now he was too far gone. He’d bring you flowers, a bottle of wine, and you’d blush to your ears whenever Lizzie teased about where it came from. Tommy bluntly told him to stop flirting with his secretary whenever you were working.

It didn’t take long at all for him to ask you on proper dates. He’d want to take you wherever he goes, but he understands if you’d rather keep to yourself, especially at the rowdy boxing matches or big parties at the Garrison. His favorite thing is when you tug on his sleeve and make him lean down so you can whisper something to him.

LIZZIE STARK

Lizzie noticed you were a shy sort right away, and how easily you tended to blend into the hectic workplace of their company. She thought you were pretty, and had little opinion beyond that ... Until she noticed how clever and adept you were with the work, and how easily you handled the more interesting sides of the Shelbys. She made a point to talk to you, because in a way, she felt a bit of comradeship with you. 

You started taking lunch together and she was delighted by how you’d go off on these tangents or deep discussions of work. Lizzie would sharply stop you anytime you apologized for talking too much, or anything, really - she wanted you to build confidence and insisted it started with stopping all these apologies. Anytime the men would talk over you, she’d give you a look and nudge you forward to say your piece. Polly and Ada teased her about her favoritism, and Lizzie thought it was very cute when you’d blush at their words.

You’re much more open with her in private, which she likes, and with her encouragement you’ve become more confident at work. If you’re still feeling nervous around strangers, especially all the parties you two are dragged to, you two have a system where you nudge her hand or say an innocuous word, and you both slip out and go home. 

[filmfanatic82]

Anything... (Chapt 12)

AO3 link (HERE)

Chapter 12

“Any last words?”

Trini stares up at Tommy’s icy, emerald eyes as she feels his hands wrap even tighter around her throat.

“Yeah.” Trini makes a quick shift of her hips, freeing up one of her legs and then swiftly brings her knee upwards with as much force as she can humanly muster, delivering a semi-deadly blow to Tommy’s groin. “Fuck off.”

Tommy instantly releases his grip on Trini’s neck and rolls over onto his side, curling himself up into a ball as the painful aftershock of the blow washes over him.

Trini seizes the opportunity to scramble back up onto her feet and immediately places a bit of room between herself and Tommy.

“You bitch.” Tommy spats out in venomous angry growl as he slowly rises up, still not 100% recovered from the blow. “You’ll pay for that.”

“I’d like to see ya try, Asswipe,” Trini fires back, flashing one of her signature cocky smirks.

Trini knows she’s playing with fire, but it’s the only way... The only way she knows how to do what she needs to do.

She has to get closer to Tommy without getting herself pinned down in the process. A seemingly impossible task when she lacks not only the ability to tap into her body armor but also has barely any super human strength left.

But it’s the only way she’ll have even the remotest of chance of surviving the blast.

“You know, I’m really going enjoy killing you.”

“And I’m really gonna enjoy kickin’ your ass. Now we gonna fight, or are we just gonna stand here and insult each other? Cause for some big, evil mastermind, you really--”

Bingo.

“Aaaaah!” Tommy screams out as he charges towards Trini at full force.

Trini juts her hand deep into the collar of her shirt and fishes out a small electronic device from a chain around her neck. She flips open the safety latch and activates it. The device instantly comes to life, emitting a glowing blue aura on the surrounding areas of her shirt.

Trini hovers her finger over the trigger button as she watches Tommy race forward.

5...4...3...2...   

BAM.

Tommy plows into Trini a mere millisecond too soon, send both her and the device flying.

Trini hits the ground with a mind-numbing THUD as her head ricochets against a small pile of rocks. A steady stream of blood starts to flow freely from the point of impact on the scalp, making it’s way down the side of her face.

Shit...Shit...Shit...

The device. Where’ the freakin’ device?

Gotta find the device before it’s too--

CRACK.

A sickening, white hot pain suddenly shoots down the length of Trini’s right arm as she feels her humerus bone snap in two under the weight of Tommy’s foot.

“Going somewhere?” Tommy asks with an underlying evilish glee to his voice. He presses down his foot even harder on Trini’s arm, grinding in it in the process.

“You wish,” Trini manages to spit out through gritted teeth as she fights back the tears with every last ounce of strength that she have left within her.

Trini refuses to cry. Even if Tommy grounds her broken bones down into nothing but splintery shards, she won’t cry.

She won’t give him that satisfaction. No. Scratch that. She flat out refuses.

Even if this is truly it. Trini will go down in the same way that she’s spent the majority of her life… fighting.

Trini glances up at Tommy’s towering body looming above her and suddenly she notices--

THE POWER COINS.

Or at least the outline what appears to be the coins. Haphazardly tucked away in Tommy’s inner coat pocket.

Trini looks closer and swears she can see the faint glow of yellow pulsate through the thin lining of the coat pocket. And that’s all the motivation she needs.

With one swift motion, Trini wrenches her free arm upwards, dislocating her other-- already broken-- arm in the process, grabs hold of the edge of Tommy’s inner coat pocket, and rips it open.

Thrown off by the sudden move, Tommy stumbles backwards, releasing his foot from Trini’s arm.

All of the power coins -- including the green one -- spill out from the confines of his coat, randomly scatting amongst the rubble on the floor below.

“What the--”

But before Tommy even has time to finish his sentence, let alone act, Trini scrambles over to the yellow power coin, grabbing it for dear life.

And suddenly--

Strength.

Trini can feel the raw, unfiltered energy flow through her veins and god, does it feel amazing.

The energy works it’s way towards her injured arm and like a bolt of lightning, jump starts the healing process.  

This might not be the end after all.

Trini slowly rises to her feet, locks eyes with Tommy, and without even a hint of a flinch, grabs hold of her injured arm and pops it back into place. “You were sayin’?”

“Little Yellow found her coin again. So now what? You’re going to go run off to your Rangers and your precious Zordon?” Tommy re-gains his footing but there’s a new unsteadiness to his voice.  A slight twinge of unsureness that wasn’t there before.

A small smirk spreads across Trini’s lips as the realization sinks in--

She has the upper hand.

Yes, Trini still doesn’t have a clear way out. Or the--

A flicker of faint blue light catches the corner of Trini’s eye. The same exact light that had sprung to life when she had activated the device.

Trini whips her head in the direction of the light and instantly spots the device. It’s half buried under a pile of rubble, but it’s still pulsating.  

Sweet fuckin’ jesus… yes!

Trini’s eyes dart back to Tommy and is hit with the sudden, gut-churning realization that--

He’s seen the device as well.

Without another moment's hesitation, Trini throws herself in the general direction of the device, falling into a full body slide.

Tommy follows suit, throwing himself at the device as well, only a mere fingertips behind Trini.

Shit… Shit… Shit…

Trini pushes her hand to stretch out as far as humanly possible, as a steady stream of rocks and debris cut into every ounce of her flesh.

C’mon… C’mon… C’mon…

Just a few more inches…

Trini’s fingers connect with the edge of the device and instantaneously wrap themselves around it with a death-like grip. Her thumb moves into position, right over the trigger and then with a hard, swallow of determination--

She pushed the button.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Darkness.

Complete and utter darkness.

But this darkness isn’t death. Not like Trini would know what that’s like… Billy maybe? But no, not her.

No, this darkness is more like a really dark pair of sunglasses. Or like their--

Trini’s hands grope upwards towards her face, only to serendipitously discover that it’s covered by the visor of her suit.

Holy shit… She’s in her suit.

She’s alive and in her suit. It’s nothing short of a fuckin’ mircale.

Alive…

Trini lets out a long sigh of relief as her armor slowly dissipated back into her skin. She pushes herself up off of the ground, getting her first good look at her surroundings.

Random clouds of debris laden smoke. Check. Even more mountainous piles of rubble. Check. Blackened char marks outlining the radius of the blast. Check.

But one thing’s clearly missing…

There’s no body.

“What the fuck?” Trini whispers to herself as she does a quick 360. There’s no traces or signs whatsoever of where Tommy could’ve gone to.

No footprints. No trails of blood. Nothing.

Trini cautiously takes a step forward, with the intend to investigate further, but then comes to a sudden halt.

There in the dead center of the blast radius sits--

THE GREEN POWER COIN.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Master Trini! Master Trini! You’re alive!” Alpha 5 chirps with unabashed excitement as he races across the morphing grid to greet Trini.

Trini slowly makes her way into room, dripping wet from the swim and now sporting a makeshift sling around her injured arm. Even with her powers fully restored, she’s still looks pretty rough around the edges with a wide array of cuts and bruises peppering her body.  

Billy, Jason, and Zack immediately all look up towards the entrance way and matching expressions of relief mixed with utter joy spread across their faces. Each one appears to have aged a decade-- if not more -- over the last 48hrs.

“What? Thought you wouldn’t see me again?” Trini produces a cocky smirk in an attempt to lighten up the situation.

The three boys rush towards Trini at full force, unable to contain themselves.

“Crazy Girl!” Zack scoops Trini up into his arms, slightly oblivious to her injured, and gives her a bone-crushing squeeze.

“Jesus. Good to see you too, dude. But easy,” Trini replies through semi-gritted teeth as she winces in pain. “Still not 100%.”

Zack immediately eases up his death grip on Trini. “Sorry. It’s just…”

“I know.” Trini gives Zack an all knowing look and a warm smile.

“God, it’s so good to see you,” Jason says while taking his turn to hug Trini.

“You too, man.”

“How’d you do it?” Billy eagerly asks unable to hold back his curiosity any longer.

“Well for starters, this helped.” Trini digs into her pocket and pulls out her yellow power coin. “I was able to steal it back from Tommy before setting off the device. My armor saved my ass from the blast.”

“How about the rest of--” Billy starts to ask but before he can even finish his sentence, Trini produces the rest of the power coins.

“Come to Papa,” Zack jokingly exclaims as Trini tosses each one of them their coins.

“And there’s this,” Trini carefully pulls out the green power coin and holds it up for the others to see.

“Dude... There’s another one?”

“Yeah. Tommy had it. But guessing it had something to do with Rita.”

Jason steps forward to take a closer look at the coin as he furrows his brows deep in thought. “We should run some tests on it. Make sure it’s at least safe for us to handle. Billy, can you--”

“On it. I can run a basic diagnostic scan, but the rest will have to wait until after I get Zordon back online.” Billy eagerly snatches up the green coin from Trini’s hand and without another word, heads over to one of the control panels with Alpha 5 hot on his heels.

Jason takes a moment simply just to watch Billy with pure adoration and then turns his attention back to Trini. “So what happened to Tommy?”

“Gone.”

“Whoa. Gone like as in nothin’ but Tommy bits all over gone?”

“No, idiot.” Trini gives Zack a swift playful slap in the shoulder with her good hand. “I mean gone as in nothing. No traces or anything.”

“You think he survived?” Jason quietly pipes up looking slightly lost within his own thoughts.

“Dunno.” Trini gives a light shrug of her shoulders, not really knowing how to explain it. “I set off the device and when I came to, there was no sign of him. Just the coin.”

Jason gives a nod in response, letting this information fully sink in. He takes a sobering breath and then, “Well, let’s talk to Zordon when Billy gets him back on up and go from there. Think it’s safe to say, though, that even if he did survive, he won’t be doing much of anything any time soon. Especially without that coin.”

“Sure,” Trini replies letting a slight awkwardness fall between them. She absentmindedly pulls out the last power coin from her pocket with her good hand and starts to trace it’s neon pink center with her fingers.

The pink power coin... Kimberly’s pink power coin.

Trini’s dying-- No. Scratch that. Is there a word that stronger than dying?  If there is, than that’s what she is at the moment.  

Every inch of her entire being is craving just to even know if Kimberly is okay, let alone to be in her presence once again.

After all that has transpired in the last 48 hours, Trini wants nothing than to just curl up, deep into her girlfriend’s arms and forget about life for a while.

But is she still even her girlfriend anymore?

Hell, is she even okay?  

No, the boys would have told her by now if it wasn’t the case.  If Kimberly hadn’t have made it--

“She’s okay,” Jason softly says, snapping Trini out of her train of thought.

“Huh?”

Jason gives a slight head nod towards the power coin in Trini’s hand. “Kimberly. She’s okay. Well, as okay as she can be. Tommy did a real number on her. We had to sedate her shortly after Zack brought her back. She was hell bent on going after you. Took both me and Zack to hold her down.”

“Can I see her?” Trini asks with a hint of a tremble to her voice.

“Thought you’d never ask,” Jason responds with his signature fatherly smile. He wraps his arm around Trini’s shoulder and then gently steers her in the direction of the med bay.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Trini lingers in the doorway of the med bay, unable to will herself to enter. Her eyes are locked in on one thing and one thing only…

Kimberly.

Kimberly peacefully sleeps in one of the bed, covered head to toe with a fresh set of bandages.

“The drugs should’ve worn off by now,” Jason states as he joins Trini in the doorway. “She took another bad blow to her head, but according to Alpha 5, there’s no permanent damage.”

“Right,” Trini mumbles, shifting a bit from foot to foot.

God, how Trini just wants to race over towards the bed, wrap her arms around Kim, and never let her go… but there’s an overwhelming and powerful fear, growing deep down inside of her, that’s currently overriding her ability to move.

All she can do is stare…

Suddenly, Trini feels the warmth of Jason’s hand against her shoulder, as it give her a light but reassuring squeeze.

“Go get your girl.”

Trini manages to give Jason a small nod in return and then, with a all the courage she can muster, makes her way across the room towards Kimberly. She sidles herself up to the bed, being extra precautious not to bump or jostle anything.

“Hey Beautiful.” Trini reaches out and gently strokes Kimberly’s hair, carding her fingers through her wavy raven locks.

Kimberly’s eyes flutter open at the sound of Trini’s voice. A hazy smile stretches across her pale pink lips as her tootsie roll eyes focus in on the sight before her. “Trini?”

“That’s my name,” Trini responds with a slight hint of loving sarcasm to her voice. She matches Kimberly’s smile, trying her best to hold back the flood of tears brimming in her eyes.

“Oh my god! Trini! You’re… You’re…,” Kimberly can’t seem to spit her words out fast enough. She springs upwards, completely ignoring her wide array of injuries, and throws her arms around Trini, engulfing her in an all-encompassing hug.

“I’m here,” Trini whispers back into the crook of Kimberly’s neck. She deeply inhales, letting Kimberly distinct scent of lavender mixed with a hint of vanilla invade every inch her body with a calm, soothing presence.

“I thought… I thought…” Kimberly chokes out in between sobs as tears fall freely down her cheeks.  

“Shhh. I know. But I’m okay. Promise. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

And with that, Trini can no longer hold back her tears. They rain down her cheeks as well, as wave after wave of emotions crash down upon her her.

After a moment or two, Trini lifts her head up out of the safe confines of Kimberly’s neck and swallows back the ever growing lump in her throat. “I’m so sorry.”

A somewhat stunned expression sweeps across Kimberly’s face as her registers Trini’s words. She holds Trini out at arm’s length, taking a good long look at her. “Trini?”

But Trini can’t bring herself to look Kimberly in the eyes. Instead she focuses in on her beat up converse, as the tear keep on coming. There’s simply no way to stop them now that they’ve started.

“Trini, look at me,” Kimberly states as she reaches out and gently cups Trini’s chin with hand, gliding it upwards until they are once again eye to eye.

Oh god, those eyes.

How those rich, chocolate brown eyes can say and do so much with just one singular glance.

Trini could get lost in those eyes forever…

“I love you.” Kimberly smiles through her tears. “And nothing is going to change that. Okay?”

“Okay.” Trini responds with a similar look of pure, undiluted adoration.

“Good. Now get your ass in here.” Kimberly scoots over on the bed, making room for Trini and holds up the blanket. “Cause I want to cuddle with my girlfriend.”

Trini carefully crawls up into the bed, falling comfortably into Kimberly’s body. She lets her head collapse down onto the pillow as she feels Kimberly’s arms wrap around her waist.

“I love you too, Beautiful.”

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Trini…” Kimberly playfully whines as she moves slightly out of reach of Trini’s lips. “We’re supposed to be studying.”

“I am,” Trini mumbles as she hones back on in on Kimberly’s pulse point, peppering it with an array of kisses. “I’m... studying... the... human... anatomy….”

“God, you’re such a cheeseball.”

“Me? Please. I’m nuthin’ in comparison to you, Princess.” Trini flashes Kimberly a devilish smirk and then with a sudden burst of playful energy, grabs hold of Kimberly’s waist and flips them over on the bed, straddling Kimberly in the process.

“Oh really?” Kimberly looks up at Trini, matching her smirk.

“Really,” Trini replies. She sits back on her legs, allowing herself a moment or two to fully take in the view before her and as she does, a singular thought flashes into her mind...

God, how she worships the goddess of a woman before her.

Sure, Trini has known -- almost from their first encounter in the quarry -- that she loves Kimberly. That’s always been a given.

But through the course of events over the last few days, that sense of love has turned into something much more deeper. Something seemingly unbreakable.

After a few hours of much needed rest and healing, they had gone back to Trini’s house in an attempt to smooth things over with Trini’s mom. And when things went south once again, it had been Kimberly, who swooped in, and pulled Trini out of there.

And it had been Kimberly, who requested. No. Scratch that. Demanded that her parents take Trini in. And of course, they did with open arms… and maybe a few minor ground rules as well.

Yes, Trini knows that there’s still a lot to figure out, but for the first time in a long while, she feels completely and utterly safe.

“Whatcha thinking?” Kimberly asks as Trini snaps out of her thoughts.

“Nuthin’,” Trini playfully replies as she grabs a hair tie from her around her wrist and pulls her hair up into a messy bun, exposing her severely overgrown undercut.

Kimberly takes one good look at Trini’s hair and without another moment’s hesitation, sits up and scoots herself out from underneath Trini.

“Where are you going?”

But Kimberly doesn’t respond. She simply disappears out of her bedroom and then returns a moment later, clippers in hand. She grabs her desk chair and flips it around. “Take a seat.”

“I don’t remember agreeing to this.”

“That’s cause I didn’t ask.” Kimberly playfully pats the desk chair. “Take a seat.”

Trini gets up and plops herself down in the chair with a bit of exaggerated sigh. “Fine.”

“Good,” Kimberly hums in response as she pulls out Trini’s hair tie and begins to card her fingers through her ombre locks.

“Kim?”

“Yeah?”

“I think…” Trini trails off for a brief moment, in attempt to find her words. “I think I’m ready for you to cut it shorter.”

Kimberly instantly stops moving her finger through Trini’s hair. “Really?”

“Yeah. Really.”

“What about your mom?”

“I really don’t care anymore what she thinks. Or anyone else.” Trini slightlys stops herself on those words, realizing that they might be taken the wrong way. “Not anyone as in you. I just meant--”

But before Trini can finish her sentence, Kimberly lips are upon hers, passionately kissing her with an overwhelming abundance of love.

After a few moments, Trini pulls out of the kiss as a cocky smile crawls across her face. “Just don’t fuck it up, Princess.”

“Never.”

With that, Trini shuts her eyes as she feels Kimberly start back to work, ever so gently running her fingers through her hair.

And in the moment, one thing and one thing only is absolutely certain for Trini… There isn’t anything in the world that she wouldn’t do for Kimberly Hart.

Anything.

[the-silverforked-sky]

Sometimes We Both Lose Our Minds (to find the better road)- Olicity Fic

Pairing: Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak

Rating: T Words: 3400 Summary: Returning back to his old life in Starling City, Oliver had anticipated and planned for many things. Carrying out the mission his father had bestowed on him, falling back into his old irresponsible persona, hiding his true self from his family and friends, and protecting them at all costs. The one thing he hadn’t planned on was gaining 2 new family members, his stepfather Walter Steele and Felicity Smoak, his childhood friend, now also his stepsister. Regardless of the changes and surprises, he knows he has to become someone… something else to make those on his father’s List pay for their crimes.

Chapter Summary: Felicity attends Oliver’s Welcome Home party and the two finally have a chance to catch up. A/N: Hiii... So it’s been super long since I posted the first chapter and then left you all hanging. I feel so terrible about it, but the past 2 semesters have been crazy hectic. But hopefully this chapter partially makes up for it. Now that I’m off, I hope to have a more consistent update schedule. I’m so excited about this verse and have so many ideas I want to share, so I hope you’ll stick around.

Thanks a lot to @nvwhovian who's been fielding all my crazy and paranoia as I worked up to posting this chapter. And to her and @beinmyheart for editing this chapter!! As mentioned in the summary, Oliver and Felicity are kinda step-siblings, if that is a thing that you’re not comfortable with, you should back out now. If you’re staying and giving it a try anyway, thank you so much and I hope you enjoy this verse and journey. If anyone would be interested in sending prompts for this verse or being tagged in updates, please drop me a line. 

Title is from The Poison by The All-American Rejects and the chapter title is from Never Let Me Go by Florence & the machine

You can also read the chapter on AO3 or other installments

Reflections still look the same to me (as before I went under)

She’s standing at the bar at Oliver’s Welcome Home Bash waiting for the barkeep to notice and maybe serve her. Tommy needs to hire better bartenders for his parties, what is the point of free-flowing alcohol if you’re not even served? That makes her sound like she’s an alcoholic or something, she’s not for the record. It’s just that being sober around so many drunk people is giving her a headache, and maybe she just needs a drink to take the edge off.

There’s been way too many changes and surprises over the last few days. Not that they’ve been bad ones per se, they’re actually good. Happy even. Oliver is alive. That is amazing, and it makes so many people she cares about incredibly happy, including her. But changes need adjustments and that is pretty stressful. She’s just glad she isn’t living in the Queen Mansion. In the past few years she’s started to feel weird and out of place there, being in that house makes her jittery. With Oliver suddenly back, there’s a tension that hangs over the entire household that she would rather avoid. And with her propensity to babble about inappropriate things, she would probably just end up making things even more awkward.

Then there’s also the fact that she and Oliver are now bound by family… or something. For all intents and purposes, Oliver is her step-brother now. Which is incomprehensible to her. She knew this would be the case since her dad married Moira, she’d even readily accepted Thea as her new step-sister. But it was different when thinking about Oliver. All these years, it had been a vague idea, a ‘what if’ hinging on Oliver being alive. But now he is alive and this new relation between them is making things all messy in her head. Since she had met him, he’d always been her friend; she’d never really thought of him as a brotherly figure. For a brief period of time, she’d even had a tiny crush on him- having the attention of two of the most notorious heartbreakers in Starling City will do that to a girl. She’d grown out of it, obviously, but that doesn’t mean it lessens the complication in any way.

A sudden din falls over the crowd and she looks up to see that Oliver’s entrance has commanded their attention. She observes him as Tommy introduces him and he raises a ridiculous toast to tequila (of all things). She watches as he feeds the public what they want, having them eating out of his palm, perfectly playing up the devil-may-care attitude Ollie Queen was known for. She wonders if he’s putting up a front, playing up what he thinks people want to see, even after he’s spent five years isolated. Or if he’s actually not changed a bit. If it’s the former, he’s still not able to completely hide the things he doesn’t want others to see. It’s given away more by what’s missing than what is there. Those expressive blue eyes, that could make anyone he paid attention to feel like the centre of the universe, are vacant now- as though they’ve been purposely kept so. She’s sure the others have noticed too, but they’re so distracted by acting as if no time has passed at all, that they just accept his unbothered act and overall okay-ness. It’s not that she wants him to be damaged or have difficulty coping but it just seems off to her. You don’t spend five years isolated from civilization, without it leaving some mark or changing you in some way. She feels they need to be prepared for it, prepared to help Oliver in whatever way they can, instead of just ignoring it till it goes away. But then again, she’s never quite settled into the elite’s mentality of brushing things under the carpet, she’s not made for hiding from the truth.

That’s not the only thing she has noticed either. Because she’s definitely not missed that delicious looking scruff or the shorter hair which looks so much better than the weird serial killer hair he had before. And don’t even get her started on the way his suit highlights his very wide and muscular shoulders and biceps. He was cute before but now he’s devastatingly handsome and this is why she’s keeping her distance. She’s already practically drooling over him, how is she supposed to conduct a conversation with him where they address their new status as family.

She watches as his eyes scan through the room and the crowd, catching on hers with some surprise. She wonders why. Sure she doesn’t really fit in with this crowd consisting of mainly fangirls, but she’s here to support her close friends. She doesn’t doubt her connection with Tommy, they’ve become closer and built that friendship back up since she returned home. Where Oliver is concerned though, she’s unsure about what kind of reception she would get. They’d definitely drifted apart a bit, for a couple of years before he left on that fateful trip, but it seemed natural given that the boys were venturing out to various colleges while she’d been focused on graduating early from high school and getting into MIT. But they’d kept in touch regularly enough that she hadn’t ever thought it would affect their long-term friendship. Five years, on the other hand, was a whole different can of worms. Especially given that Oliver didn’t seem all too thrilled with welcoming her dad, and probably by extension her, into the family. She breaks their eye contact then, the thought that Oliver may refuse their friendship is painful and she isn’t ready to expose that that vulnerability to anyone.

As she cranes her head looking for someone who can fix her a drink, she hears a voice close to her ear, “Hi Felicity, need me to buy you a drink?” She startles, turning around to come eye to chest level with Oliver himself.

“Oliver,” and her voice comes out sounding breathy, she needs to make it stop sounding like that. It’s just Oliver, and he’s teasing her just like he would years ago when they would talk and banter and be uncomplicated friends. No big deal. She looks up to meet his eyes, seeing a hint of amusement and fondness that gets past the shadows in them. “Haha, I can buy myself a drink now, with my real ID too. Also it’s an open bar.”

His lips lift into a small smile, minuscule really in comparison to the toothy dimpled smiles and laughter she’s seen on him, but there all the same. More than that though, it lightens his eyes and manages to put some of her uncertainties to rest, which makes it all the better. “Guess you don’t need me and Tommy to supply you with fake IDs anymore. Shame, I’d got a new set I was gonna gift you for getting through finals. Really creative names too.” She narrows her eyes at him and he chuckles, his eyes and voice softening even more, “it’s good to see you again Felicity.” He extends his arms a little, it’s such an awkward gesture but very clear in its intention. So she pushes herself into him without hesitation, wrapping her arms around his neck. His arms tighten around her back and she melts into him, nostalgia and an incredible amount of joy rushing into her as she revels in the feeling of him being alive and home.

“It’s so good to have you back Oliver. I’ve missed you a lot,” she mumbles into his neck.

She’s not even sure if he heard her but then he murmurs back, “me too.”

She separates from him then, looking anywhere but at him. She feels self-conscious like they’ve already lingered a little too long for a hug between friends, even long lost ones. His heavy gaze doesn’t help all that much either. Then she remembers the events of this morning and her concern can’t be contained. “Are you okay? My dad told me about the kidnapping.”

“I’m alright, really. Not even a scratch, we were found in time, I guess,” his response sounds so practiced, it immediately draws her curiosity but before she can say or ask anything about it, he continues, “so I guess a ‘welcome to the family’ is in order?” And really? That’s what he wants to break the tension with?

His tone sets her on edge too, it sounds pleasant enough and he’s delivering it with a perfectly charming smile, but there’s something cutting about it. She looks at him sharply, the indignation from last night, at his rude remark to her dad during the family dinner, returning. Realizing his mother was remarried was probably a shock, no one would really want to think about how their family may have moved on in their absence. And obviously Moira’s misguided attempt to ease Oliver into the situation by hiding the truth about her new marriage didn’t help much either. But he was downright rude to her father and she won’t stand for that.

“It would seem so. Though my dad is really the one it should be directed to. And try being a little more genuine that time?”

As soon as she says it she knows she hit the mark but not in a good way, he looks stung by her snarkiness. And really she didn’t mean to be sassy or nasty about it but she’s also not interested in pulling punches on the matter. Her father means the world to her and Oliver can be shocked at the news, find it difficult to digest and adjust but he cannot disrespect her dad. Nonetheless she softens her tone as she says, “You're not being very fair to him.”

“Felicity,” he begins, “it’s my mom and also Thea… they’re too important and I wasn’t prepared. I’m still not. I didn’t expect…” he trails off seeming to not know how to continue.

“Didn’t expect is probably an understatement,” she scoffs, trying to lighten the moment. She gets where he's coming from, they’re both just trying to protect their respective parents.

“Oliver, I understand,” she continues and then modifies, “kind of, some of it, because your experience has been very different and I can’t know everything you’ve been through. But I do understand a certain aspect of it. Seeing your mom with someone new, seeing her move on, that was probably not the easiest pill to swallow. I felt that too,” She tries to hide how she still gets a little choked up thinking about her adoptive mother, “even though it’s been years since Alicia passed away.”

She meets his sharp gaze again to make sure that she’s not completely messing all of this up. He looks a bit more receptive to what she’s saying, so she takes it as a win and continues with as much earnestness as she can, “But something between my dad and Moira just clicked. They helped each other through their pain and they love each other so much. He’s good to her Oliver, to both her and Thea. He loves them so much. And Moira, she makes him happy, happy in a way that I didn’t think I’d see him again. You just need to give him a chance.”

All of it seems to hit him hard, but he doesn’t look away from her. He nods his head with a “I’ll try.” Not exactly what she was hoping for but an immediate resolution does seem unrealistic. She’s made her point though and he heard her out. That’s the best she can do right now. He seems to be studying her as intently as she is studying him, some of it feels awfully calculating even though he’s trying to hide it behind nonchalance.

Suddenly she feels a body bumping into her, causing her to lose her balance and stumble right into Oliver. And woah, she completely forgot where they were. This was so not an appropriate place to have such a serious and private conversation. Oliver is holding onto her elbows and her hands are pressed onto his chest from where she tried to catch herself. A very firm chest that feels ridiculously good under her hands and boy does she need to back out of his personal space. Were they really standing that close throughout their conversation?

She's just starting to back away when Tommy makes his appearance. From the look on his face, he’s apparently got some interesting ideas to get himself and Oliver in trouble running through his mind, and thankfully doesn’t notice the odd tension hanging over her and Oliver. His first sentence just proves that, “There you are! Now by my rough estimate you have not had sex in 1,839 days”

She wrinkles her nose as she looks from Tommy to Oliver and back to Tommy, “I don’t think I needed that information. And did you actually calculate that?”

“Felicity!!” He exclaims, pulling her into a tight hug as if he hadn’t just seen her last night. “Well, no wonder you ran off, I would prefer her company over mine too,” he directs to Oliver as he winks at her. “Of course I calculated it. And I needed to get that number out before I forgot because that is a loooong time. This poor guy had a dry spell of a lifetime, haven’t you buddy? But we’re going to remedy that and as your wingman, I highly recommend Carmen Golden,” with that he turns Oliver by the shoulders to face another large crowd of women.

Oliver looks understandably confused as he asks, “Which one is she?” with a tinge of amusement in his voice like he’s just humoring Tommy.

“The one who looks like the chick from Twilight,” Tommy replies very promptly.

“What's Twilight?”

“You're so better off not knowing.” The grimace on Tommy’s face and the way he winces, immediately makes her laugh. He really would know, considering he’d been forced to watch all four parts multiple times, including braving premieres, long lines and high-pitched tweens. She’d like to say she doesn’t fold as easily as Tommy does when it comes to Thea, but really that would be such a lie.

Speaking of whom, she spots Thea and a couple of her “friends”, her good mood vanishing almost instantly. The guy Thea is speaking to may be a new one, but it doesn’t mean that Felicity isn’t aware exactly who he is, or rather what he’s able to supply. She must’ve shown some kind of reaction because she feels both Oliver and Tommy glance at her and then follow her gaze right to Thea. Where she is now exchanging her money for drugs, in what she seriously hopes Thea doesn’t consider an inconspicuous manner. Because she’s being quite obvious. Oliver’s focus just seems to narrow down onto Thea and he barely excuses himself before he’s off. Felicity meets Tommy’s eyes, and he seems to share her thoughts that this situation is not going to go down well at all. Beneath it though, lurks a deep regret and guilt that mirrors hers. The sense of failure that they couldn’t prevent or pull Thea back from this path. That at all of fifteen she’d felt so alone in the world that she’d gotten hooked onto drugs and partying as an escape. She also sees the question in his eyes, if they should interrupt and try to diffuse the situation before it gets bad. She knows though that if anyone has to insert themselves between the siblings, it’s got to be her. Whatever trapped feeling Thea is experiencing will only get worse if she’s confronted by both Oliver and Tommy. She puts a hand on Tommy’s arm to reassure him, before she makes a beeline towards Oliver and Thea.

She quickens her footsteps as she sees Thea breaking out the attitude, when Thea gets into this kind of mood, she’s usually only one wrong word away from tipping over the edge. As she gets closer, she realizes that Oliver has managed to find that tripwire. The pain in Thea’s voice as she tells Oliver that she spent five years thinking he was dead, that the last five years are permanently within her, strike her so hard. It makes her throat tighten and stomach twist up. And she can tell from the way Oliver looks away, that it hits him much harder. Felicity curses herself for not anticipating and misjudging how Oliver’s return is going to affect Thea, for not seeing that Thea too won’t be able to just brush the last five years away like they didn’t happen.

“I’m sorry if I turned out to be some major disappointment,” she keeps going.

But no, she’s not. And those words slip out of Felicity’s mouth, “Thea, no,” before she even realizes. It draws both the siblings’ attention to her, and to the fact that she obviously overheard most of the conversation. But her focus is on Thea, who looks like she wants to be anywhere but here. The way her mouth curls up, slightly cruelly and looking so out of place on her face, Felicity knows that she’s found her parting escape line and that it’s going to hurt. She’s not sure if it’s going to be aimed at Oliver or her, or both of them, but she braces herself for it anyway.

“Ollie, you can’t come back here and judge me, especially for being just like you. And now that we have the perfect sibling,” she gestures towards Felicity, “there’s no pressure on either of us. We’re free to screw up however we like.”

And wow, yeah that stings. She knows that her dad and Moira were pleased with her interest in the company, and that they’d pinned their hopes on her leading QC once they’d be ready to retire. Though she felt the weight of those expectations, she’s tried her best to thrive under the pressure and make them proud. She can barely admit it to herself, but part of it has been the need for validation and attention from her father, while he’d been busy with his new wife and new job, as a reminder that she won’t be forgotten. If she makes them see her, and realize her value, then maybe she won’t be left behind. She never realized that someone else could’ve picked up on it, or that it would be so effective when used against her. Thea directing her friends to “Let’s bounce,” pulls her out of her thoughts. Looking up, she notes that Thea won’t even look at her or Oliver. That more than anything, sets her in motion. If she doesn’t do something to fix this now, forgive Thea for lashing out, then it’s going to turn into a spiral of guilt and avoidance that’s going to turn into more emotional suppression and anger later. And if she can get to Thea and pull her away before she gets high, then Felicity is going to consider it a win for the night.

Oliver’s soft call of her name, makes her pause. She turns to him, his face is shuttering off but she still catches a glimpse of sorrow and an apology. “I’m going to go talk to her,” she says as she points in the vague direction Thea headed in.

She takes in a breath then, “I know you have questions and things to say, and a lot of those answers you’re going to hate. I’d say give her time, but I don’t even know if that will work to be honest.”

She rises up on her toes, holding onto Oliver’s elbow, as she places a light kiss on his cheek. He stiffens a little, obviously not expecting the contact or closeness. She doesn’t even know why she did it. She’d missed him a lot, it feels like nothing short of a miracle to get one of her closest friends back, and she needs to convey her affection and happiness to him. And really, a little cheek kiss is not so different from their previous hug, it’s what friends or step-siblings do. It just shows that they’re comfortable with each other, and that their relationship is so very platonic. And in line with those thoughts, she completely refuses to acknowledge how her lips still tingle or how her heart skipped a beat for some reason.

Tagging: @nvwhovian @beinmyheart @felicityschattycathy @callistawolf @coal000 @myhauntedblacksoul @tdgal1 @cessink @nina2406

[spotlightsaga]

Kevin Cage of @spotlightsaga reviews... Casual (S03E01) Ashes to Ashes Airdate: May 23, 2017 Ratings: @hulu Streaming Only Score: 8/10 **********SPOILERS BELOW********** I was almost in relax mode... The episode was wrapping up and I was reaching for a soda, my iPad, my phone, and all the things I need to sit down at my homemade office in the corner to create my review... Hell, I'm just glad the show is back... Luckily I had the subtitles on, because it's about 5:30am here on the East Coast of 'The Psuedo-Aiiiight' USA (We've still got Miley Cyrus, so somewhere it's a 'Party in the USA') and I just happen to glance over and read the dialogue that Frances Conroy's Dawn was sweetly delivering in venomous spurts. Charles Cole is not Valerie's father, but took Dawn in while she was pregnant and alone and raised her daughter like she was his own... GASP! It sounds soapy, like really REALLY soapy... But even though the idea is so Daytime Soap, just short of the type of 'Days Of Our Lives' iconic moment where Marlena is possessed by the devil, and the impact of what Dawn is saying is monumental, particularly for Valerie. The delivery Dawn adopts is so hollow and true to the show's name and the cut is so quick to the credits that the only way to react is.... Well... Exactly how Val's daughter ,Laura Meyers (Tara Lynne Barr), reacts... Laughing out loud hysterically into a hushed sip of alcohol that she shouldn't be drinking. Welcome back, Casual! Valerie (Michaela Watkins) & her teenage daughter Laura are no longer living at home with Valerie's brother Alex (Tommy Dewey). The separation is hard on both of the siblings, and where before it was only Alex consistently calling poor Leon and constantly disrupting his life (who BTW had the World's Worst One Night Stand that just won't go away in multiple facets of his life), now we see Valerie doing the same while finding reasons to gain his company to use him as a psychological sponge. Leon (Nyasha Hatendi) seems to be finally ignoring Alex altogether, but now he's over at Valerie's new place attempting to fix her sink that he has no idea how to fix. She rattles off her worries and insecurities about Alex's mental health and the fact that he's seeing Jennifer (Kate Aselton) as his therapist. Leon just kind of grunts, I imagine he has no idea why he's really there. And I guess I'll go ahead and admit my growing crush on Hatendi... Maybe it's the shape of his body, his pouty lips, youthful face, his worldly vibe, even his accent, or the fact that his character Leon needs a slap on the ass and some serious direction... Granted he does have a wild side we saw in S2, so he's most definitely open to new experiences. Unfortunately he's trapped in what was supposed to a 'one and done' new experience, but here he is, still being sucked back in this 'Casual Vortex', still very much a recurring (close to main) character in S3. Broken people love 'people projects' to avoid focusing on themselves, Valerie & Alex adhere to this rule a bit, but they're too self absorbed to actually do anything for Leon... All I'm saying is I can see why both Alex & Valerie keep him around. All of this... Everything going on in Casual plus my secret crush I just revealed... It all just kind of sneaks up on you, doesn't it? S3 starts out on a music-less montage of quick edits of both Valerie & Alex talking to different people fervently about one another's problems and quirks. Ah, siblings. This is an eventuality isn't it? That is until a major event brings them back together... That's very true to real life, I've seen it time and time again. Alex has brought in a roommate to not only fill the void Valerie and his niece left in him and his home emotionally & spatially, but financially he's not in the same place he was either as his business was ravaged in S2 due to insane, self-destructive behavior... The roommate is Hans, who is uncredited, which means he won't be sticking around, hell he doesn't even make it to the final act. Alex is cold to Hans, as he is to everyone, but Hans keeps walking in on creepy moments that are taken out of context. I should say... That anyone would take these things out of context. Hans walks down the stairs as Valerie discuss killing their father, that was really a tough assisted suicide that their mother bounced on... But all he hears is 'We murdered him. We did the dirty work. She can't take that from us.' Just the looks the two exchange with Hans as he slowly and carefully eases down the stairs makes for another top notch black-comedic moment. Valerie's home life isn't that much better. She has a passive aggressive landlord, Tina (An American Queen... Jamie Chung, another legendary and ultra successful 'Real World' alumni like Mike Mizanin AKA The Miz) who won't fix anything. Signing her texts making excuses why her handyman is stuck in another country and can't fix Val's sink ('Crazy Story!') with a ❤️ emoji... Later telling Val she 'didn't want to interrupt him because he is on a 'soul-searching journey'. So here we are... Back in the smoggy land of cold parenting and broken dreams of LA for a 3rd Season of Casual. Alex & Val are not in the best spaces, and now a bomb has literally gone off shaking the very core of Valerie's identity... They both seem to be most comfortable with each other when they are mocking their dead father (Valerie's now revealed pseudo-father) and discusses all the hilarious things they could do with his ashes that would give them some kind of closure. Alex appears to take Jennifer's advice about letting go of his father's ashes, because in her words 'it's not the same as letting go of his father'. He does end up giving her ashes, but Alex is a glorious asshole and since Day 1, it's been he and his sister vs the world... Not sure what kind of ashes he gave his acerbic, pleasantly acrimonious mother (or if he just stole them back during her rancorous speech), but in the final moments he reveals he stuffed the real ashes in Valerie's purse... This should be good!