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ijustwant2write · 4 years

Text

Hold On Tight-Tommy Shelby x Sister!Reader

(GIF credit @hardytcm)

Tags: @captivatedbycillianmurphy @jenepleurepasbaby @amirahiddleston @bloodorangemoonlight

Requested by anonymous: 'Hiya love, could yo do an imagine where the reader is a Shelby sister and is closest to Tommy, like best friends and they go do some business together one day and she dies? But like grace’s death where she’s in his arms and he’s obviously really sad but she’s trying to be positive about it. ❤️'

Characters: Thomas Shelby X Reader (siblings), Arthur Shelby x Reader (siblings), John Shelby x Reader (siblings)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Swearing, guns, violence, injuries/wounds, death

(A/N: This is before John's or Grace's deaths)

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Morning boys." I greeted as my three older brothers walked in.

"Alright (Y/N)." Arthur nodded, hugging me briefly before making his way to the kitchen.

John copied his actions, catching up with him as Tommy entered, hugging me that bit longer.

"You sure you want me coming with you today?" I asked him as we pulled apart.

"I'm sure. You're the one that's been researching this guy for us, you're the best person to come along."

"Flattery doesn't get you anywhere Tommy. It's not like I'm going to object. Are you wanting to leave now?"

"Not just yet. We need to go over the plan again."

"Again? Tommy-"

He raised his hand, pointing at me."We always go over the plan-"

"Three times." we said in unison.

"Right." he nodded and went to the kitchen, me shaking my head behind him.

John and Arthur had already made themselves comfortable at the table, helping themselves to the freshly boiled teapot. As I walked past John, I smacked his legs that were resting on top of my table. He flinched, almost falling off his chair as he protested, rubbing where I hit him.

"Do you forget manners everytime you step into a civilised house?" I scolded playfully.

"Civilised house? Since when have you or anyone in the family been civilised?" he chuckled.

"Well, just don't put your grubby shoes on my clean table. My house, my rules."

"Alright mum."

I only rolled my eyes at him. John and I were only a year apart, I remember all the times we bickered as children, though there was definitely a love hate relationship. I always tried to act my age unless he was around, then it all went out the window. The boys were much older than us, and didn't always want to play; seeing as we were the closest in age, we compromised on our games, but I grew up with three brothers, they were bound to be tough. It built character (as they say), though it was only after the war that I became closer to Tommy.

Arthur had always been the best big brother, always looking after and defending me. As did John and Tommy, though Arthur could sometimes have a more authoritive look about him, more intimidating. I had always looked up to him. But Tommy and I never talked much, or played games with each other. He didn't even hug me much either. I saw my three brothers be sent off to war, and like all the men that left, they came back different. And Tommy coped with it in an extremely unhealthy way.

All those nights he had nightmares, he didn't have to be screaming in his sleep or crying, I just felt that something was wrong. A weird sense of dread would fill me before going to sleep, and it would wake me up, forcing me to go check on Tommy. He would rarely talk about it, but I stayed strong beside him, refusing to leave until he fell asleep again. Of course there were the drugs, and although I tried desperately to make him stop, he never did. However, I was there on the other side. It sort of happened naturally, our relationship. Maybe it came with age, maybe he acknowledged my help. Tommy was closest to me in my opinion, and I supported him with a majority of what he did (unless he used the family, that's where I crossed the line).

"I still don't know how I feel about this Tom." Arthur said.

"If you're talking about me, which you do every time we do something like this, then you need to get over it." I gently replied as I sat beside Tommy.

"You're my little sister, (Y/N), you shouldn't be here."

He wasn't being mean. He was just concerned. I smiled at him.

"Arthur, I've been through this a million times, with and without you guys. I'll be fine, we all will."

"Just get that feeling in me stomach-"

"That's enough Arthur." Tommy interrupted, lighting up a cigarrette. We waited for him to take a drag, exhaling the smoke before he spoke."We go through the backstreets, to their storage house for their booze. That's where we said we would meet. He has his men, we have ours. Now this is strictly business, no fucking threats, no fucking fighting, no fucking shooting. Understood?"

"I still think it's too dangerous for (Y/N) to come along." Arthur added.

"She's the one that's been getting the information for us. For some reason her tactics have worked better than ours."

"Oi!" I protested.

"That wasn't meant to offend."

"I've helped plenty of times before. Believe me Arthur, I've been behind the scenes of a lot of your operations."

"You've been around Tom too long, starting to speak like him too." Arthur smirked as he sipped his tea.

I ignored him."How many of your men will be there? Our dealer usually has ten with him at all times. He's agreed to not have anymore."

"Then we'll bring fifteen, ten with us and five to hide."

"You don't trust him."

"Any man who takes ten men as protection at all times is paranoid, meaning he'll also have some hidden away."

"So much for no shoot outs." John mumbled.

"Better safe than sorry." I snapped.

"Alright." Tommy warned."We're there to make a deal, and we'll leave with one."

We climbed into Tommy's car, silent as he drove to the meeting place. As we parked up our men were already waiting, watching as us Shelby's got out and walked ahead of them.

"So you listened to me then?" I quietly said to Tommy.

"What?"

"Finn's not here, that means you listened to me."

"Yes, I suppose you were right." he smirked.

"Good, he's still too young for all this."

"Now you sound like Polly."

I always felt nervous about these things. It never got any easier for me. Of course I didn't let it show on my face, and it always shocked these men to see a woman turn up. A slight advantage sometimes, they couldn't comprehend that a woman actually had a brain.

"How's Grace?"

"You want to talk about Grace, right now?"

"Yes, why not?"

He scoffed a laugh."Nothing stops you from getting into my private life."

"It's been a while since someone has been interested in you. And you're interested in her."

"I have never said that."

"There's no need to. It's obvious."

"No it's not."

"Yes it is."

"(Y/N), we sound like children."

I laughed it off, sticking my hands in my coat pockets as the warehouse came into sight. There were two men guarding the doors, holding their guns. We didn't falter, approaching them with confidence. I thought they would search us, but instead, one of them disappeared inside, returning a few moments later, and nodding to the other guy.

"You can go in." he said, opening the door wider.

They stayed put as we all entered, following us from behind and closing the door. As expected, our dealsman was stood there with his ten men. I knew our lot were already trying to seek out anyone hidden away, they had been warned.

"Mr Vallier." Tommy started.

"Mr Shelby." He replied."Not like you to have this many men about for a business proposition."

"And you know how many men I have?"

Vallier ignored that question."Ah, I assumed your sister would come along. I've heard some remarkable things about her."

"The sister is present, you may address her." I interrupted.

"My apologies Miss Shelby. I've heard you commit acts that no other lady has ever done before. I must say, I am impressed."

"Thank you. You flatter me Mr Vallier."

He chuckled."So, Mr Shelby, shall we begin?"

It really was a simple trading agreement. Vallier was making some of the best gin in the country, though it hadn't become famous yet. He was a powerful man, built himself up from the ground; he ran his own gang, like us, knew that alcohol was a good selling point. Tommy saw an opportunity. Get him on our side, and we have another piece of territory as well as more money flowing in. It all seemed fairly simple, Vallier was just paranoid as we expected. This was the easiest meeting we had been to, and it made me nervous. However, that feeling started to drain away as we finished. There was more of a sense of feeling left out as I didn't get to say much.

Tommy and Vallier shook hands once we were outside the warehouse, both looking somewhat smug.

"Garrison?" John leaned over to me.

"Garrison." I nodded, smiling as he swung his arm over my shoulder.

Our lot began walking away, another deal was done. It was all calm and relieved until one of Vallier's boys started shouting, blocking our path.

"YOU KILLED MY BROTHER! HE NEVER DID ANYTHING BAD IN HIS LIFE!" He screamed, aiming his gun at Tommy.

"Don't shoot!" Tommy instructed.

John held me behind him."What the fuck is he planning now?"

"Sam, get inside!" Vallier yelled.

"I'm sorry sir, but these devil's had no right killing my brother, he wasn't even involved in any business!" the boy's aim never faltered.

Before anyone could figure out what to do, someone shot their gun, but it wasn't from the boy. We all ducked, running for cover as more bullets were fired. It was an ambush, there were hidden shooters, but they weren't working for Vallier. This boy wanted revenge. I knew this was all too good to be true.

John had pulled me behind a stack of crates, but the bullets were splintering the wood. We took turns peaking out and shooting, but it was impossible to see who we were shooting at.

"GET HER OUT OF HERE!" Tommy instructed John, but we were ultimately stuck.

"If you slip past the warehouse, you can squeeze through a narrow passage, that will get you out." Vallier rushed."Dont worry, these lads will run out of ammunition soon enough!"

John and I glanced at each other, and before I knew it, he was dragging me into the open space, headed where Vallier had mentioned. The warehouse was right night to a brick wall, with a gap just big enough for me to squeeze through. John on the other hand wouldn't even be able to get a foot in.

"John!"

"You keep going (Y/N), keep hidden until you don't hear no shooting no more, yeah?"

I nodded, groaning as I pulled myself through the gap. I had to walk sideways in order to keep moving, the bricks scraping against my skin. It was starting to get claustrophobic, and I was glad to have reached the end of it. Back in the normal streets, I seemed to be in the alleyway between people's back gardens. Slowly opening a back gate, I looked around it, praying there was someplace to hide. There was a shed, but I had a risk of being seen if the owners came along. But I was a Shelby, they should know who I am and not question it if I they did find me. And I had my gun, I was safe. Luckily the door was unlocked, and I hid inside, ducking so i wasn't seen through the window.

The relentless sound of bullets richoted through the air, echoing to me. I hated not being in the fight, but there was no time to argue in a battlefield. My brother's knew what was best for me most of the time... most of the time.

It sounded like there were less bullets flying about. One last shot rang out, I waited a few minutes for anymore sounds. When nothing came, I made my way back to the alley. I still had my guard up, not that my brother's would be dead, because we were the fucking Peaky Blinders, and this wasn't our final fight.

"In the bleak midwinter..." I muttered under my breath, slowly walking.

I wanted to call out to my brother's, though that was a stupid idea, and I kept silent. The sound of a gun clicking knocked my instincts into gear, and I aimed my gun towards the sound.

"What the fuck do your think you're doing?" I snapped. It was the boy that started this all.

"You fuckers killed my brother!"

"So you think that makes it OK to kill all of us?"

"I'll shoot you!"

Before he could do so, I shot him first, hitting him square in the chest. He froze, hands dropping to his sides, gun falling to the floor before his knees buckledonto the cobbles, and his body collapsed. I wasted no time running past him, checking the coast was clear before I rounded the corner.

"(Y/N)!"

Tommy was up ahead, already running towards me. I let out a breath of relief, also running to him. For fucks sake, why couldn't things go smoothly for once? It couldn't just be a done deal. Someone was always out to kill us.

My fingers outstretched towards Tommy's hand, and I almost grabbed them when an excruciating pain rippled through my back, and the another pang, and another. Everything went silent, my eyes widened in shock and the breath was all but gone from my body. The boy had shot me, somehow he wasn't dead and had shot me.

Tommy caught me before I hit the ground, and I wanted to desperately hold onto him, but I couldn't control my limbs.

"Somebody get the fucking car!" he yelled, the sound suddenly flooding back.

"T-Tommy," I shakily said, looking up at him,"h-h-hold me, please, I w-want t-to feel you."

His arms gradually gripped onto me tighter, and I showed no pain, even though it made me feel worse. It was rare to see Tommy Shelby cry, and it felt like an honour to watch them roll down and out of his crystal blue eyes.

I swallowed the taste of blood rising in my throat."Tommy, l-listen. I-I w-want you to marry that....that G-Grace."

"What? (Y/N) don't worry-"

"She challenges you, I-I l-like her. A-and h-have a nice wed... wedding."

"I will."

"C-an I have a portrait? You always s-said I-I could."

He nodded."You'll sit for that portrait yourself. You're not going anywhere."

"(Y/N), Tommy!" I could faintly hear John and Arthur.

I smiled. My older brothers were here, they were going to look after me like they always did.

"John, Arthur."

"We're here (Y/N), alright?" John cried, grabbing one of my hands.

"Fucking hell." Arthur seethed.

"I-I love you all. T-tell Finn and P-Polly...that...I love them too."

"You can't go (Y/N), you just can't." Tommy whispered.

"You'll live on Tommy. Be happy, please, f-for me."

I lavished the feeling of comfort as I felt my skin turn colder, it was harder to breathe, harder to stay awake. The pain I was in didn't matter, I had my three heroes around me, my three brothers. They say us Shelby's couldn't be killed, and I had always lived by that. However, someone had plans for me to die today, and if it meant something bigger and better for my family then so be it. I held onto my smile as much as possible, not wanting my boys to see how I was hurting. As life slowed down around me, I looked up one last time into Tommy's eyes, his beautiful blue eyes that I was envious of; they were a comfort, a piece of my brother I would keep with me forever, even if they were full of tears.

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doomstypewriter · 3 years

Note

abt the last ask: u dont have to include it ofc (if u write it at all) but i thought id let u know that its based on the mental image i suddenly had of j climbing up to pats window, knocking on the shutters, pat pulling him in by his lapels and immediately kissing him (if you can even call it that with how hard theyre smiling) & then sometime later pat hearing like his dads footsteps coming toward his room as theyre making out so pat scrambles off his bf & shoves him in his closet (the irony)

Anon, finally, here you have it, but with a twist. This got completely out of hand, as per usual when I write anything. Since you were so nice (/li) to send me your request in two parts, I will actually break your prompt into two parts, otherwise, it’s never going to end. I hope you’re pleased by the first part, also, I am answering to this first because it matches the content of the first part.

Thank you so much for your lovely prompt! Hope you enjoy!

If anyone wants to be tagged for this let me know in a comment!

AO3

Chapter 2 >>

We call it an affair because it’s a forbidden romance

Summary: An encounter in the dark. The disdain of society. A forbidden romance. Royalty is involved and a title is at stake. Will an aspiring count, Patton Morandi and his rogue lover Janus overcome the barriers laid in front of them?

(We're in it for the drama)

---

“So long away and what I least expect is not you saving my life, but finding myself having missed your nonsense”.

“Is it nonsense when I make you smile like this?”

Word count: 3848

Pairings: Moceit, future Prinxiety.

TW: Homophobia, internalised homophobia, deadnaming a trans person, misogyny, mentions of religion, hopelessness, ideological things you would expect from the period (I'm not sure if there's anything else, but please tell me).

Chapter 1 of 2:

Balcony kiss

How the moonlight shone in its quiet dance with the nightly air. It was a mostly clear summer evening, the second day of the week-long festival. The sounds of music and colourful lights could be heard and seen from the distance, but gradually decreased as a certain thief made its way across the gardens of Villa Morandi. For certain, the head of the family would not be excessively happy about the entire ordeal, but no disgruntlement could come out of those things of which one has no knowledge of, and Janus surely intended to keep his entanglement a secret.

He crossed the bushes and jumped over marble balustrades expertly, careful to avoid the lights of the servant quarters, where their residents were reading themselves for departure.

“Signor Morandi seems to be in good spirits lately, it is fortunate that most of us can leave for the festival”.

Any news about the man was something worth listening to, given his situation, so he decided to stay and see if they mentioned something useful. Also, he, admittedly, enjoyed gossip.

“Loretta! Don’t be such a bragger in front of us!”

“Why? I’d say the only one lamenting not being able to go is you. You should be ashamed for dragging poor Virginia in with you to make yourself sound less self-centred”.

Janus silently nodded.

“That is not true! I am merely trying to make the newcomer feel welcome! And here you are making her feel excluded, who is now in the wrong?”

Weak retort, wannabe-partygoer, he thought.

“Va, va…” the other maid answered dismissively “Quit holding her like that! Don’t you see she’s uncomfortable?! Povera bambina”.

“Come on Virginia, don’t you think it’s a waste for such a wrinkly woman to be let out instead of us?”

“Who are you calling old?!”

“You did, but now that you so kindly brought it up, you are old! Turning wrinklier by the second!”

Alright, at this point, Janus could not help but be rooting for Loretta, going for the old card was the low-hanging fruit.

“I may be your senior, but I promise you that regardless of that nonsense about wrinkles you’re babbling I’m ten times more fair looking!”

“Ah!” she exclaimed with feigned indignation. “Can you believe her? She’s delusional!”

“Well then, the delusional one will not search for a man at the festival, such a pity I will not be introducing anyone to you this week!”

He smiled at the comeback. Way to go, Loretta.

“Loretta! Just because you had the luck to get engaged doesn’t give you the right to rob others of their chances. Don’t be so mean, I’ll apologise if I must”.

“Alright, but never dare call me wrinkly again, for you will owe this old woman when I find you a husband. Virginia, I can help you too if you want it, I know plenty of young lads who would love to…”

“Oh, no, I’m not really interested”.

At this point Janus had quenched his thirst for amusement and begun to lose his interest, having more pressing matters to attend to. But, one new comment made him reconsider the usefulness of his eavesdropping for longer on the ladies’ conversation.

“That’s right, Loretta, don’t you see she’s here on official duty. To suggest for her to slack off with men… ts, ts… “

“Oh, you shut up! Don’t fret, Virginia, dear, I should have remembered you were sent for an urgent matter”.

“True, true! Tell us if you can, is it as they say? Was her ladyship done in by pirates?”

“Elda! Such crude language, you dare call yourself a lady, how can you say something so insensitive?”

“What? You want to know as badly as I do, besides, if it is true, then there is no changing it, and if it’s not then it’s fine, as her ladyship is still alive”.

“I’m so sorry, Virginia, just ignore her”.

“Don’t worry. As far as I’m willing to say, her ladyship still lives but I cannot disclose any further information”.

Oh.

No.

When one spies on others, bad news exists as a possibility, but, usually, in the form of getting caught. This happened to be worse. Being spotted? That he could deal with. Having his heart ripped out after one stellar month? Not so much.

He ran.

Not from his problems. More or less towards them.

The marble balcony seemed as unreachable as ever. A sense of dread loomed over his thoughts, while a mix of feelings, now turned into urgency, settled in his heart.

Raising a hand Janus willed his trustworthy companion to fall from the nightly skies. Meanwhile, he began to climb the walls of the manor. There was an undeserved elegance in his motions, not becoming of such an honourless goal, and, nevertheless, fitting for a thief like him.

The hawk swept inside the room from a window and cast the doors to the balcony open.

Janus promptly grabbed onto the bass of the marble balustrade. One month ago he had received news of something that would simplify his life. He knew he should not care, it was going to end poorly no matter what. But, rereading two months worth of love letters and hoping for an uncertain future, he could not help but feel happy. That made his resolve to return in time for the festival.

From the room came a sound of rushing footsteps.

Three months of yearning to see a face again.

That image made Janus more desperate, and, in his haste, he committed one fatal mistake. His grip on the marble slipped. At a thirty feet height, the ground beckoned him.

But, just when his doom seemed so certain, he was caught by the front of his cape and safely gathered against a pair of lips.

With such smiles stretching their faces, it could barely be called a kiss. But, the intensity of the affections behind it rendered the notion meaningless.

“My love”, Janus muttered as they parted ever so slightly.

“You scared me, silly. I miss you for three months and when you’re returned to me I almost lose you for good”.

“Let’s be happy you were there to catch me”.

“Thank the Lord, and if He wills it, I will always be”.

“I ought to be grateful to you, my dear, not the ones above” he answered while stepping to the safe side of the balcony.

“Well, our poor feathery friend can’t be too happy about that” Patton laughed dismissively, gazing at Janus’ hawk.

“You’re right. I neglect to show my gratitude, perhaps you could give me somewhere to start?”

“Oh, but how can I hand you my room, my sweet, the stones of the house are too heavy!”

“So long away and what I least expect is not you saving my life, but finding myself having missed your nonsense”.

“Is it nonsense when I make you smile like this?”

Janus laughed in delight.

“Let me make you smile in turn, then”, he said, whilst extending his hand.

The touch of Patton’s palm felt like a warm pressure through the barrier of his leather gloves. Perhaps all of his interactions were as imperfect as their naked hands not being able to meet. Janus’ fake gallantry, their hopes, may be short-lived in the face of change. But, for now, he would rather enjoy pretending.

He pulled Patton to the inside of the alcove.

“Are you refined now?” Patton laughed.

“Of course, I have always been. Whatever could lead you to ask such a question? If I were to be a thief, which I am not, I would be the most honourable”.

There was a certain amount of delight to be found in catching his lover in the midst of changing into his night robes, judging by those being laid out onto the bed’s ostentatious covers. Despite such a degree of luxury surrounding Patton, he still refused to task any servant to dress him. What was there not to love about the man?

Patton made a motion as if to hold his hands, only to surprise him by pulling his gloves off. Any other person, and it would have been a display of sensuality, coming from him, it was like movement turned into honey, perhaps a mixture of both. Indeed, there was everything to love about him.

Maybe not all. Janus dreaded to admit how deep in he had allowed himself to be for this man.

A fool for a good man.

His hands felt the light night coldness in their grip on the linen shirt. Janus almost wanted to chastise himself as the thought of kissing away the kiss of the midnight breeze came to mind. He hid in the curve of Patton’s neck, sliding his lips along it, feeling like a coward whispering a lie. Countless lies. Telling himself this was enough, that he could bear the thought of this man taken away from him by a woman, that the thrill in this forbidden form of vice was not his worry taking yet another disguise.

“Oh, you’re a thief alright”.

“Is there something of yours I happen to have taken?” Janus retorted with a vague tone of amusement.

Patton cradled his left cheek in a firm request to see his face. Who was Janus to deny him?

“You know all too well you have”.

Oh.

“Well, that would make two of us”.

Patton’s expression melted into more honey. It always made Janus unsure as to whether he had made a mistake, no matter how unfounded the doubt was.

“Thank you” the words rebounded in proximity against the other’s lips. Janus didn’t know Patton could also be cruel.

“A little sincerity never hurt anyone”.

“You are not anyone” he smiled softly.

“Then make the pain up to me”.

Both their lips made contact like a wax seal on a letter. Janus pushed Patton against a low piece of furniture. From how the other fumbled, he could tell a corner was pressing against him. Despite the sting, Patton still committed himself to their affections. If that wasn’t a metaphor for their relationship Janus didn’t know what it was. Janus knew Patton would disagree, of course.

It seemed that exchanging one piece of furniture for another, the bed, would not be possible. Someone was knocking on the door.

“Janus…” Patton panicked in a hushed voice.

“Not a problem, my dear, this is my speciality” he smiled at him.

Janus’ feet almost flew over the carpet, muffled by the Persian fibres and his expertise on avoiding the parts of the floor that creaked. He turned the key of Patton’s wardrobe without the distinctive noise most people couldn’t avoid. Luckily for them, he wasn’t most people. The door mysteriously closed itself from the inside. Janus could swear to hear Patton draw a breath in wonder as to how he had done it.

“My son, let me in!” a voice came from the corridor.

“On my way, father”.

The mule-like bray of the alcove’s door hinges Janus detested preceded the sound of a set of footsteps he knew and loathed just as well, if not more.

“Were you reading yourself for bed? Ah, do not answer, I can already see your night robes over there. How many times need I tell you, call the servants to dress you, it is unbecoming that you do not. Moreso with the status you are to acquire”.

Janus almost scoffed upon hearing it.

It wasn’t that Janus outright looked down on Signor Morandi. He certainly held an admirable reputation and an even more admirable wealth. He contributed to the church, upheld his honour, was a patron to a few talented artists and did everything expected from someone of his status. By societal definition, he was an outstanding man. But, he could never understand Patton. Yes, Patton’s behaviour in public also stood to scrutiny. He was a young man to be admired, for sure. Yet, it somehow mismatched any other person’s strive for reputability. Patton lacked this performative quality, eagerness, if you will, that he found time and time again in people.

At first, Janus struggled to comprehend it. Everyone had desires outside of the strictly polite, they either pretended they didn’t or tried to hide it, that’s why they paid the church, after all. Janus didn’t believe people made an effort to actively align with the global canon for morality, just to look like it or deceive themselves. This theory on society made it so when he met Patton he simply dismissed him as a try-hard, later to relabel him as self-deceiving. Maybe he was a victim of his own biased cynicism.

As they grew closer, he started to get the whole picture. To his surprise, Patton tried to get his desires to align with what he perceived as morally correct, sometimes failing miserably. Janus’ presence in his room didn’t qualify as a success by society’s criteria... Patton’s effort to be ‘good’ did not come from a place of wishing to be perceived as such. Patton didn’t want to look good, he needed to be good. A good man. The realisation was hard to process but true.

Once he understood that, Janus could not let go. It stands to reason that, if that kind of person were to earn his affection, someone like his father would awaken his spite. Signor Morandi had simply never made an effort to understand his son’s motivations, unlike Janus. If he was a cynic, Patton was a victim to his own good intentions.

“I do not understand”.

“Lady Renata Regio is alive”.

“Oh”.

“Yes, it is most fortunate, you will no longer have to stay inside and miss the festival”.

“Well, father, I am not sure if that is appropriate, her ladyship must be feeling poorly after such a horrid experience. Perhaps it is best if I stay in and promptly send a letter to help soothe her”.

“Patton, it honours you to be willing to put the weak’s suffering before yours, but it is not needed in this case. You do not have to concern yourself with her. I am afraid that she is safe and sound on the account of having planned her own kidnapping. Lady Renata Regio has joined the pirates bringing disgrace upon her family, the wretched woman”.

Yes! Janus thought. Neither the wardrobe nor the entire room could contain his joy at hearing it.

“That is most unfortunate, should I reassure her family that I do not hold any resentment towards them?”

“It would be no good, there is going to be a scandal!” Signor Morandi sounded too happy.

Janus could not help but to smile a little.

“Are we going to pursue any retaliation?” Janus almost saw Patton shudder in the tone he used. “I do not think it necessary, it is a matter of marriage, although important, there are many other options that--”

“Yes, there are many other women to pursue, that is the spirit! In said spirits, I must inform you of the most wonderful news I have just received”.

What?

“Today a trusted servant from the Regio estate arrived at our home”.

“Yes, Virginia Fusco”, of course, Patton knew her name. “I personally received her, she refused to tell me exactly why she was sent here, also insisted to wait to talk to you”.

“Precisely, well, it turns out she is the personal servant of Lady Romina Regio”.

“The eldest of the twin daughters of the Regio?”

“Indeed. Let me be frank with you son, the Regio know they cannot keep the true actions of their lesser daughter hidden forever, a rumour is meant to surface eventually. This is very unfortunate for them, I have heard they were planning to match Lady Romina with a higher member of the nobility. Her sister’s actions have ruined her chances, it is unlikely that whoever was to marry her will accept such a union. My son, you know I always have your best interests in mind, Lady Renata Regio was a fine choice to provide you with connections to nobility. In turn, her family would have got access to our wealth, which, after their losses in the war, they need”.

Oh no.

“This being the circumstances, they have to choose how to align themselves in the future and what would be more advantageous to the family”.

“Shit” Janus said under his breath.

“We are about to reach an agreement for a marriage between Lady Romina Regio and you. I need you to understand that, if you are to accept, you will have to face some troubles, at least initially. The rumours about Lady Renata’s motivations may taint your reputation for a short while and the Regio’s rush to marry off Lady Romina will raise more rumours”.

“What choice would please you the most?”

“Oh, Patton, you idiot”.

“The union could make your child a count, you could potentially obtain a title depending on how we negotiate with the family. It is my wish that you accept this marriage”.

“Will this bring honour to our family?”

“Certainly”.

“Then…” an air of doubt went through Patton’s voice.

Janus was debating whether or not to burst out of the closet, either to tell him to refuse or to scold him for not accepting immediately what was probably the best opportunity of his life.

“Of course I will accept”.

“You make me very happy and proud, my son. I will meet with the servant girl to send her back with a letter requesting to meet with Lord Regio”.

The words were spoken carelessly. Signor Morandi often did that around his son, not knowing how many times he had been overheard by him. He may be a great man by society’s standards, but he could never be a good man.

Janus slumped against the back of the wardrobe, surrounded by pieces of clothing he could never afford. There was a world in which Patton had refused. But Patton hadn’t been left a real choice, so he could find some comfort in knowing this thing between the two had to end due to him being backed into a corner. Better than having Patton’s morals come between them. That, he would never reconcile with.

This was better than before. Being cast away for something as mundane as marriage, no matter the useful connections involved, was one thing, being left for a countess, well, if that’s what it took to refuse him he wouldn’t complain too much.

He would have preferred a marchioness or a duchess.

He would have preferred to be the only thing standing in between Patton and kingship and still win.

He would definitely prefer it if Signor Morandi was to accidentally fall down a flight of stairs on his way to writing his pesky letter.

There was nothing like a fire to persuade someone, even a countess…

But Patton would be upset.

His hawk screeched from the roofs above. Then footsteps rushed to his side, followed by candlelight flooding the inside of the closet.

Patton had no right to look so humble yet so marvellous. Not even the warmth of the flame could rival with that of his gaze. A gaze that was his’, not of any countess. But, still, a gaze that deserved to become a count.

“Janus…”

Honey clogging up his ears, that was the shape of a whisper.

“I suppose”, he shook off the dust of his cape and held his head up with dignity, “this is when we part. I’d love to say it’s a pity, but we saw it coming. Guess it was nice to enjoy it while it lasted. I’m always a letter away, my dear, that countess of yours wouldn’t ever find out”.

This was the bitter taste of selflessness. He never understood how Patton enjoyed it.

Janus turned around, ready to make his merry way out of Villa Morandi or fall off the balcony properly this time. Suddenly, Patton’s armed chained the two of them to their spot in the room. Patton’s chest heaved pitifully in a mockery of a hiccup.

“I’m sorry. What was I supposed to do? There was no other choice. I didn’t wish to upset you. Please--”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

He promptly let him go.

“I…”

Janus turned back to face him.

“You think crying will make this easier? Do you seriously think I enjoy this? I would gladly rob you of everything and have you entirely to myself. It is taking so much self-restraint to not get your father into a tragic accident, my dear. If anything, you’re making it worse by crying. I am doing this for you. Don’t you dare ruin the one honourable thing I will do in my life”.

“How can I pretend to be happy when you’re leaving?”

There were sparks of light encased in his tears. Something about their ironic beauty left him even more heart-broken.

“What am I going to do, then? I can be selfish to an extent, but I cannot take the rest of your life too. You’re being offered a title and a wife, all the things someone at your level could wish for. Don’t be more of an imbecile, keep it. It is already inappropriate for you to be seen with the likes of me, and it’s even worse with me being a man”.

“You’ve never cared about that”.

“But you do! Let resume, dear”, he tried to say in his most condescending voice. It didn’t sound even remotely like it. “You go to church each Sunday, you have five bibles just in this room and the most sincere good-samaritan complex I have ever seen. I know you can’t bear to live in sin”.

“I can’t bear to live without you either!”

Oh, Patton, you fool, silly, ridiculous man…

“What…” he felt as if he was going crazy.

A chuckle escaped through the spaces in between his teeth. Janus looked downwards and whispered.

“What are you saying?”

This self-consciousness, he had never felt anything like it before. Was he blushing?

“I love you… I know it’s wrong, so why doesn’t it feel like it?”

More honey. What a way for his plan to backfire.

“This is ridiculous, you should be concerning yourself with more important--”

Patton placed the back of his hand under his jaw to raise his head with such gentleness... stupid.

“Is it ridiculous when it’s making you cry like this?”

A compassionate man’s tears were not worth his. He had never been as sure as now that this was a mistake. Yet he longed for him more than ever.

“Of course not” he wiped away his tears feigning some kind of dignity.

As quickly as ever, he also pretended to regain his composure.

“Do you have any sort of plan for what you’re going to do next? Under pressure, you’re a terrible improviser, my love”.

“Well...I can’t let you go. I know as much. I should, for my family, father, my honour. But I will not. You’ve shown me that acting selfishly doesn’t make someone evil. I will find a way to fulfil my duty without giving you up, you have my word”.

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dyketubbo · 3 years

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intro post (cleaned up a bit.. again!)

basic summary: my name is dyke/eyez/circus/mask/whatever you wanna call me, im a minor, im nd and a qpoc, i use any pronouns but he/him (and dont like masc terms, including bro, dude, guy, lad, stuff like that), and im apart of a system.

dni if youre against any kind of minority (includes racists, terfs, truscum, queer exclus of any kind [yes, even mspec lesbian exlus], etc etc), support ccs like schlatt uncritcally/actively like him, are nsfw, ship irl ppl (even ones that are okay with it), do x reader stuff with ccs, truth ccs at all, believe fiction doesnt effect reality/are a pro shipper/anti anti, or dont tag triggering things like zoophilia n stuff. dont be romantic or sexual towards me at all, and dont talk about touching me w/o asking. also dont interact if youre fine with those kind of ppl and actively interact w them (only exception to that last one is if you interact w ppl who like cc!schlatt, idc about that as much as long as theyre critical of him)

i like benchtrio the most but keep up w/ everyone best i can and like analyzing and drawing. im really sensitive and kind of an asshole so. bare w/ me if i lash out or am too much or something.

currently we have small intros of us per member on a page (/systemstuff) but dyke n grass will talk the most (mostly dyke). ty for reading, i hope you have a nice day and if its late for you, feel free to go get some rest. if its daytime, go eat!! or hydrate if you havent.

follows/likes and stuff will come from @/cottonskittles, reblog/like spam is ok, i dont care how people interact w me or my posts as long as they dont breach my boundaries, i think thats it but feel free to ask questions if u need clarification. more stuff under da cut

hi howdy just some more in depth stuff

im bad w tone so like. if you make fun of tone indicators or think theyre unnecessary/annoying (unless talking about excessive use/people using them as an excuse to be mean n stuff) probably dont interact w me because while i can interpret messages w/o them my own tone is often unreadable so i use them for the sake of others

story wise wise i usually look for benchtrio stuff, but i also try to keep up with everyones lore! theyre all important to the story in some way :]. however due to the themes surrounding them c!dream and c!schlatt make me uncomfy, and i only receive secondhand info abt the torture stuff bc its uncomfy too. also im personally critical of c!techno and i know that esp bothers a lot of ppl so yknow. warning to stay away this blog might piss you off

dni wise dont be a bigot. if youre against minorities of any kind fuck off, dont follow if youre nsfw or make nsfw content of childrens media, uhmm for personal sake regarding themes on the dsmp remember to like. tag cult stuff, drug use (esp underage), zoophilia, pda, and cannibalism if ur gonna follow me. tyyy. also dont follow if ur uncritical of some of the things various ccs involved have done (this is vague bc i know theres misinformation on dream and techno specifically but theres still shit thats actually been done and of course uh. the whole schlatt situations), and generally dont follow if you outright like cc!schlatt (c!schlatt likers r fine). like im not gonna make a big deal out of it but i will at the very least softblock because he makes me. really uncomfortable. you can interact n stuff just dont follow. dont interact if you use the new pan flag its gross and ugly and i dont agree with why it was made. and dni if youre a pro shipper (even if its to cope- find better coping mechanism thanks im a survivor and it makes me relapse to even think about pro shipping, actively romanticizing pedophilia, incest, age gaps, etc in media and then pretending like its just shipping discourse is Fucking Disgusting and i hate it), and dni if you like genderbend stuff it makes me uncomfy

also this is specific but if youre nonblack and weird about aave i will fucking murder you. n if you make suicide jokes please at least tag them. if you tell people to seriously kill themselves or joke abt "do a flip" or w/e or find that funny then dont interact w me at all

non dni wise w/ boundaries dont use masc terms for me, dont like.. talk about kissing me or flirting with me or anything, dont call me smart or a good person (just a personal thing. you can use synonyms if you really want), ask before talking about touching me, i have mirror touch so when people describe physical touch in any way i can feel it and thats uncomfortable. dont call me a liar, anddd dont make too many sexual references w/ me. keep it to the level thats like, present in beeduo streams but dont talk to me about kinks or anything even as a joke. finally make sure to tag things w /p if you mean it platonically around me, its for comforts sake. feel free to talk or message or ask for other socials or whatever idc about any of that

thatsss all for now. i do analyses ig, also art. have a doodle of my sona to tide u over under this paragraph. sorry for rambling, im not good at summarizing my thoughts and i have a lot to say. ok thats all thank you if you got this far and read it all i rlly appreciate you /gen. i was milfsmp but i didnt want to take the chance that someone would call me milf as a nickname

#intro #mask mews #okay. thats all. again ty and sorry for talkin sm im really nervous but i wanna like #put myself out there. not be such a secret ig #it felt wrong #dyke doodlez #generally just. if you really like edgy humor we rnt gonna get along lol #i can deal w it sometimes from streamers but peers? no. i hear enough in the fuckin highschool hallways

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boy-above · 3 years

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I get your thing about your passion for art dying out because of insufficient feedback, if I had a nickel for every time I’ve lost my love for painting I’d have four nickels, which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened four times. Seriously though, I feel like in my experience it has been an idea that I’ve gotten only from publicising my art. At some point when you put yourself out there, you begin to expect something in return for your hard work and vulnerability, but a lot of the time you get nothing, which makes you believe your artwork is not worth anything. This is obviously not true because any creation is worthy of praise and support because it was MADE, but the thoughts are still swimming around. When you set those social expectations on yourself to succeed, you lose the point of why you ever started in the first place. You are literally 23 years old. Very few artists ever get recognition in their early twenties, and if they do it’s because of luck. Even if this art thing doesn’t work out for you, you’ll be okay. You have so much time to learn and grow and understand new things, and there are so many different ways to make yourself better as you go along. I think you need to keep drawing, even if you don’t want to. You need to find why it was you loved it in the first place and go back to doing THAT, even if it means making art that you can’t post or show to others - it needs to be for you. And if you can’t get back into it, take a step back and try again. Or try something new. Or eat something and try again. It’s clear through your art that you love doing it, and I’m sorry that love has seemed to dwindle, but I promise you’ll be okay, and you aren’t going to disappoint anyone if you decide to quit. You aren’t worthless without your art.

i mean that's the thing though, i don't really know if i even like art. i haven't enjoyed doing it since i was like, 14. it's not something that happened recently, i've been disillusioned with it for a long time. i Have been doing art even when i don't want to, for a Very long time actually. almost a decade. i know my art isn't worthless, that's not really the problem. my problem is how the landscape surrounding creators has changed over the years. i was around on tumblr back when the like to reblog ratio was actually even and people reblogged art, commented on it, and yknow, appreciated it?? art takes hours, days, weeks to create and only seconds to consume. and because social media makes it so easy to consume constantly, i feel like people just don't think about the work that's put into it anymore, a lot of non-creators kind of just take fanart of their favorite characters for granted, and artists are always looked down upon for pointing it out but people don't feel the need to support us anymore and its ruining a lot of us. reblogging our commission posts takes seconds but a lot of people just don't do it.

i feel like you're kind of misunderstanding my situation a little, because i've Had support on my art before, i used to be a popular fanartist and my art could get as much as 5000 notes. people reblogged it, commented on it, said nice things in the tags, were even intimidated by me. the wildest thing that would happen actually semi frequently was that people would actually be excited when i followed them and would screenshot it and stuff. like i Had support on my art, i know what it feels like to have it, i just lost it because people forget about you once you're not pumping out artwork that caters to their specific interests anymore.

i'm very aware that the quality of your work doesn't impact how popular you are bc back when i was popular, my art was obviously worse than it is now, and even Farther back, when i was a wee lad, i was a popular total drama island fanartist as well (dont @ little me for being cringe) and obviously at 12 years old my art was TERRIBLE but i was popular back then too, because i got lucky. that's something i always want to tell new artists, working hard and improving your art isn't necessarily going to make people like it and support you, it's about luck, and even if you Do get lucky, you can lose it just as quickly, just like i did.

i know you're trying to be nice and supportive and for the most part i appreciate it but the "you're literally 23 years old" part did kind of hit a nerve with me lol, cause it feels like i'm being talked down to. i know that's not what you intended but i figured i'd be honest about it. i also wanna make sure you're understanding my situation on the matter of my commissions as well, i'm not like trying to do art for a living or anything, ive never intended to because that sounds like a nightmare. so i'm not like waiting to be discovered or something. it's just right now it's my only source of income because my life is a nightmare, and for the last couple years most of what i've been doing is commissions, people have still been buying from me even while i've been doing hardly any fanart or personal work anymore. i was just venting bc doing commissions actually Gave me a reason to keep drawing, and of course having money to buy goods and services™️ is a pretty big deal to me too. i'm just very frustrated because i have to beg people to do the bare minimum to try to help me and almost nobody does. ive lost all those fans who actually cared about me yknow. i'm just sad about it. it's easy to feel really small and like nobody in the world cares about me. i know a lot of people feel that way in the world but it shouldn't be a normal feeling. it's not something people deserve to feel. it's just like, even if people don't reblog my art anymore, buy it anymore, whatever. i don't care anymore. it's just hard to see people ignoring the only important post i reblog. call me entitled, i don't mind. but i'm gonna be honest. it makes me upset. it makes me feel mad sometimes even.

#ask the marshmallow #anonymous

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notkodanymorebye · 4 years

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bonsoir ! my name is sam, its 5:30 am as im writing this, and im a mess. i use she/her pronouns and im from aus – hence the being up at 5:30am for opening and still being late smh. i have a habit of rambling so sorry for this intro in advance lmao. but thats more than enough about me, let’s talk about the other and more important mess, reed’s token aries: K O D A R E I D

tws: mentions of divorce, drugs, and ya know the murders

STATS.

full name: dakota reid

best known as: koda

age: twenty five

gender + pronouns: non-binary, they/them

occupation: waiter/bartender at salvatore’s steakhouse, aspiring podcaster

hometown: reed, virginia

star sign: aries

traits: jovial, creative, adventurous, confident, detached, cruel, impulsive, lazy

drink / smoke / drugs: yes / yes / yes

MORE INFO.

born and raised in reed, they’ve honestly left the area maybe a handful of times. not for a lack of wanting to, they certainly have wanted to and still want to, just a lack of money and time and motivation to plan anything “””big”””” (leaving ur town is not big but koda is lazy) in their lives

im gonna try not to get too into it bc i will go on forever but two important things to mention as far as their childhood. the first, when koda was sixteen their parents went through a really fuckin rough divorce. and like any sixteen yr old whose parents are getting divorced it pissed koda off. they have a moderately better relationship with them now but at the time, it was messy. at first, koda was very outwardly emotional about it, but as their emotions were just used as a weapon for their parents to use against one another they shut that shit down immediately. only showed their emotions in a way that was more of a nuisance to their parents: graffiti, petty shoplifting, being a dickhead in school, flunking grades (though they werent great to begin with), sneaking out all the time, all that bs

which leads to thing two: koda was a dealer towards the end of high school/the start of young adulthood. nothing big, bc they were a dumbass teenager in a small town just looking to piss their parents off. but because they were a dumbass teenager in a small town i assume theres a good possibility that if ur character is from reed: koda was their dealer. eventually they stopped bc people figured out they were just a sometimes v annoying middle man for the much easier to deal with guy that koda bought from + too much work. like most things to koda, drugs were meant to be just a fun past time, not a full time career.

after barely finishing high school they had absolutely no want to go to college. even at local reed college it was a lot of money to put down and for what???? for koda to do an arts degree they dont really care about and then do nothing with it ????? instead they just worked more. they’ve had the job at salvatore’s since they were fifteen and its really a staple in their lives.

when they are not at salvatore’s, they’re still being a menace tbh that did not end with high school or even the dealing. they’re usually skating around (would also be driving around and sometimes they are but its illegal because they recently had their licence suspended), probably spray painting some fence, maybe takin some photos on their barely working dslr, partying, drinking, stealing shopping carts from the local grocer, being a dickhead, u know the ~usual

despite being the local, so far they’ve not had any close connections to the parkway victims and thats unfortunately made them pretty insensitive about it. they’re far, far more interested in figuring out what the fuck is going on than they care about u know the loss of life and danger to everyone else in the town. in stats i mentioned they were an aspiring podcaster and thats because, u guessed it, koda wants to start a podcast about the murders they’re a piece of shit we already know this

and since this isn’t showing in the tags anyways: here’s a link to their pinterest board

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

housemates – koda is a broke mf, i want this connection to be with other broke mfs that are leasing a shitty house and probably have one too many people in it, but like: it works yk

childhood friends – obv koda has lived in reed their whole life, they’re from a very working class family, can be a connection through family or just through school im down for whatever

actual friends – this is probably gonna be limited to like a couple bc koda is so closed off lmao. while they’re friendly and enthuastic with just about everyone, theres not many koda actually considers genuine friends, these are the exceptions

co-workers – koda is confirmed annoying most of the time but they are at their peak annoying at work so if anyone else works at salvatore’s a. im so sorry b. lmk lets plot

party people – do u do drugs and other reckless impulsive bs at house parties? then this might be the connection for u bih – bonus if they’ve been partying together for fuckin ever

an easy thing – literally just the song easy thing by dom ferra. an easy romance, very much in its early stages, prob not official at this point, kinda learning what being in a relationship should mean together. only open to f/nb sorry lads

then just everything idk i need to start getting ready for work but pls hmu if u would like to plot ✌️

#parkway.intro #( about. )

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oldestinker · 3 years

Text

Tagged by @taardisblue thanks bud normally I don't do these but i crave attention too much to resist.

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favourite authors!

Yh so I don't really have "stories" per se its more like I have a bunch of one sentence poem fragments that are rotting in my phone notes waiting to be used. But again. I love attention so here we go:

1. This ones actually finished! I wrote when i was obsessed with Dead To Me (which i still am its an amazing show go watch it)

"You stand on the edge

And dare yourself to step forward."

2. Poem fragment time! I write my silly little sentences and then i forget they exist :)

"They say look to the past but i don't remember it and then they say look to the future but i don't remember that either all i have is two walls closing in on me and theyre going to squash me like an insect under black boots"

3. This one is also finished! I am so proud of myself. This poem was written mid quarantine and you can tell.

"Poets always write that

when the world ends we will run to each other as the sky burns

but I think (or know, from experience) that when this world dies I will be sitting in my room alone"

4. Wait a moment! This ones an actual story! An unfinished one but we're not nitpicky right lads. Idk how to summarize this one its original characters its gay and it takes place on the prairie.

“Hey Ant?”

“Yes?”

“Which way is east?”

5. Unexplained sentence that i dont remember writing but i write so little that im adding it anyway.

"Panic has eaten my heart raw"

6. This is the most recent one and its not my favorite as a vent poem but it IS my favorite in thats its technically gay fanfic. No i will not be telling yall what its from sorry.

"Yeah my heart is bleached cattle bones on the side of the road left to dry and never recovered but i look at you and i feel like early morning grass with the dew still on"

Ok im stopping here bc I do not have 20 wips bc holy shit who writes that much. Also im not tagging anyone sorry love ❤

As for favorite,,,either 3 or 6 bc i like that style of poetry.

#have fun with these yall i don't write very often so this is all you get

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thousandfourhundreddays · 4 years

Text

Yours For Tonight. Pt 2

Michael Gray x Reader

Part One

A/n: Requested by @namelesslosers , “Part two please! This is amazing, Maybe one where he's already with Gina and the reader comes back to Small Heat? They never stopped loving each other and yeah... Anyway, tag me if you do please?”

The Morning After

“I couldn’t face saying goodbye for the last time, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I have to leave and I’m sorry that we can’t spend the rest of our lives together. I know I promised we would. I’ll never forget you Michael, the love that you showed me was possible, and I’ll forever be thankful for that. I’ll love you always, y/n”

That was the note you left for Michael the morning you left, taking one last look back at his sleeping figure before you gently closed his bedroom door, sneaking down the staircase and onto the cold, harsh cobbles of the street outside, ready to begin your new life in France with your boyfriend. Well... as ready as you would ever be.

Three Years Later

The sharp wind whipped around your as you stepped out of your taxi, taking a long, deep breath whilst you stood taking in your surroundings, the sleek black car vanishing back down the street. A small smile spread across your face as you saw the familiar blackish grey terrace houses that held so many memories. The dull, cold cobbles of the roads which ironically brought you so much warmth and comfort.

You were home... you were in Small Heath.

With no plans of where you’d live, or work, however truthfully, your husbands job left you quite well off so for now you could easily pay for a hotel for however long it took for you to find a house, you found yourself heading to the garrison.

As soon as you made your way through the sparkling golden doors, you caught eyes with Harry, his face lighting up with surprise. You sat and chatted for a good hour or so as he served the men in the pub, this is where you learned that Tommy had bought the pub not long after you left, explaining the glamorous new design. Sparking the topic of the Peaky Blinders, him raving about how well they were all doing which lead to you subtly asking how “Pollys son, that new lad Michael” was doing, which was how you were told he had moved to America on business for a while before moving back a few months later. The topic didn’t last long, you not wanting to seem suspicious so you let Harry briefly fill you in on how your mutual friends were doing.

After a short while, a few familiar faces, mostly friends from school and thier boyfriends and husband made their way into the pub as the day shifted into the evening. The garrison grew busier with time whilst you were bombarded with questions about your life over the past three years, the contry, the food, the people. You almost didn’t notice the door fly open and the faces of Tommy Shelby and Polly Gray appear in the doorway. You breathed a sigh of relief when they turned to make thier way into the back room.

That was until the door creaked opens once again, revealing the face of the man you once, a almost definitely still do love. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at him, placing a cigarette between his lips and raising a match to light it. He lifted his eyes whilst tucking the match box back into his trouser pocket, scanning the room. Your heat skipped a beat as his chestnut brown eyes can’t into line with your y/e/c ones. It felt like the world stopped spinning, his face unreadable as you swallowed the lump in your throat. The buzz of chatter began to ring in your ears, fading into silence. To you, it felt like it was only you and him in the room. A shy, unsure smile flashed across your face, his astonished eyes softening in response.

Suddenly the noise returned to your ears, your heat started to beat and 1000 miles an hour and you watched a woman slip through the crack between the doors, her golden blonde hair glistening in the light. Her painted red lips raising to Michaels ear, whispering something which you couldn’t make out. Her hand making its way upto Michaels neck to get his attention, her burgundy nails gently scratching against his skin. On her finger, a ring.

You forced your eyes away and tears welled in them. Michael snatching his head in the direction of his wife and they also made thier way into the back room.

Your mind was riddled with questions and possibilities. How long had they been married? Did they have children? What was her name? Of corse you knew there was a possibility of seeing him, you weren’t stupid. You for some reason you hadn’t expected this.

You spent the next half an hour or so trying your best to act natural, a few wuenstioning looks were directed at you from your friends, which were returned with you most convincing smile.

Not long after, the Blinders left the back room, Tommy heading to the bar, Polly heading home, leaving Michael and his wife stood talking for a second before she ran to catch up with Polly. He stood searching the room for your face in the crowd of drunken men and tipsy women, after finally spotting you he gave a sly nod in the direction of the door, indicating for you to follow. You waited a minute or two to avoid any suspicion, and to prepare yourself for what was about to happen, before excusing yourself to the toilet and slipping out the out the pub undetected.

The cool air hit you, somewhat refreshing however due to your lack of preparation to be stood out in the cold with your ex lover at this time of night, and therefore your lack of coat, the cold soon hit your bones, causing you to warp your arms around yourself with a shiver.

You searched the darkness for Michael, only spotting him when the glow of a match lit up his face in a discreet ally a few meters away from the entrance of the Garrison. Letting out a shakey breath, your feet subconsciously carried you towards him.

You froze a couple of meters in front of him. You took in his appearance as you stared at one another. His eyes sat above light purple circles, he looked exhausted. His skin a little more wrinkled than when you left, obviously from stress. His hair gelled to the side, much smarter and professional than you ever remembered, must be to cover his tiredness.

“Hey” the simple word snapped you out of your thoughts, bringing your eyes back upto his. They were no longer bright and full of life, they were dull and mysterious.

“Hi” you said, your voice wavering slightly as you let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding.

He offered you a cigarette which you gladly took, thanking him with a smile as you made your way forward, now standing opposite him.

A few seconds past before he broke the silence.

“How’ve you been?” He said cautiously.

“Not bad, you?”

“Yeah, good, thank you”

You stood in an awkward silence, neither of you knowing how to begin a conversation, or more like not knowing what kind of conversation to start.

Once again, it was Michael who spoke first. “What are you doing here, y/n?”

“Well, Iv got nothing left for me in France, let’s just say that.”

“What about...” he began, about to ask about your boyfriend before his mind assumed the worst. “Is he... ok?”

“He’s fine. Well...” you took a second to think of how to word your sentence. Do you lie? How much should you tell? You gave in, letting out a sigh, you continued “Prison.”

Michael raised his eyebrows in shock, your boyfriend would be the last person anyone would’ve expected to go to prison. A respectable lawyer from an honourable family.

“Yeah” you said, reading his expression. “Money laundering... got three years inside.” You looked down at th ground, for some reason ashamed of your partners illegal antics which you had absolutely no involvement in.

“And you didn’t want to wait for him?”

“Nah” your lifted you head to have another drag of your cigarette, as did Michael.

“You know how I feel about criminals.” You joked with a small smile, you were fully aware of what Michael and his family did for a living, and he knew that. A faint grin flashed across his face, giving you his good old, soft ‘shut up’ face as he let out a soft laugh.

“Didn’t expect that” he said, deciding to state the obvious.

“Yeah well he wasn’t as lucky as you lot, he got caught” Another giggle left his lips, you always knew how to make him laugh, he loved that about you.

“No, but seriously... I just saw my chance and took it, you know how I felt about him, I never wanted to leave. Anyway, here I am.”

He gave you a sympathetic smile, imagining how it felt to have to sail off to a new country, leaving everything you ever knew behind to live with a boyfriend you you’d fell out of love with.

His trail of though was broken. “So, what’ve you been upto?” You said solemnly, leaning back against the cold brick wall, preparing yourself for the conversation surrounding his wife.

Michael inhaled on his cigarette, needing to calm his nerves, he knew you had realised who she was when he walked into the Garrison, you weren’t stupid, he could see it in your eyes.

“She’s my wife.” He stated, knowing you’d catch on to who he was talking about.

“Congratulations” you tried to put on your best fake smile.

“I didn’t think you’d ever come back, y/n, honestly if I had any ide-”

“Michael... dont. You weren’t to know”

He nodded slightly, clearing his throat. “I still love you, you know” his voice was shy, laced with anticipation and somewhat fear.

“Loving each other was never the problem, mikey” you said softly.

“Yeah but now the problems Gina, and I-”

“Gina” you cut him off, reality hitting you now that you learned his wife’s name. He just looked at you, sadness set deep within his eyes.

“I’d do anything for you y/n, anything to have you back” his voice was barely a whisper as he stepped closer to you. His hand cautiously reaching up to cup your face. You leaned into his palm as you eyes glided shut, a tear escaping. “Look at me, please y/n”

You slowly opened you eyes to see Michaels only inches away, now glistening with tears of his own. Before you knew it, his lips were on yours, the connection which you had longed to feel for so many years hit you. The butterflies in your stomach, the slight dizzy ness that only Michael ever made you feel. It was all still there.

Despite your hunger for him, you abruptly broke the kiss, stroking his cheek, trying to hold yourself back. “I can’t do this Michael... your happily married” once again leaning into his touch.

“I’m not happy” he said bluntly, shaking his head as if to convince you.

“She is”

“I’m so sorry y/n, for everything” his voice filled with regret.

“Don’t be, please don’t be... Iv got to go Mikey”

And with that, you smoothly escaped his grasp and made your way out onto the street, the biting wind surrounded you once again.

You heard the faint calls of Michael shouting your name as you forced you self to keep walking. Leaving you both with tear stained faces.

Michael would have to go home to his wife, his mind submerged in thoughts of you whilst you lay in an estranged hotel room, drowning in thoughts on Michael.

PartThree.

A/n: hehehehe I’m actually SO proud of this :) @namelesslosers I hope this is ok!!

Remember my requests are always open!!

Instagram: @peakyblindersengland

Masterlist

Xox

#michael gray imagine #michael shelby #michael gray #michael gray x reader #michael gray fanfic #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders x reader

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pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc · 4 years

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What Children the Evans Want - headcanon

to tide you guys over until i have more time to write :)

Tate Langdon

wants 1 daughter

he never really had good parents, so he has a lot to learn

he really just wants a mini you

he already knows how to take care of you, so how hard could it be?

correction: he’s very wrong and it’s much harder than he thought it’d be

Kit Walker

he wants 2-4 kids

1 boy and 1 girl or 2 boys and 2 girls

that’s what he hopes for, but he’s just happy to have any

this man is a natural born father

((ngl i have like 4 fics started with dad!kit))

his kids look at him like he hung the stars in the sky and he looks at them like that too 🥺😪🤧

Kyle Spencer

he wants a lil boy

he tells you it’s bc he just really wants to take care of a son, but it’s really bc he wants to start fresh and have a boy with good parents that look after him 🥺🤧

he’s so protective of his boy

if anyone even thinks about bullying him or anything of the sort he’s ready to beat their ass

(he talks a big game but he would never hurt a child, he’d just tell them off for being disrespectful)

Jimmy Darling

he really wants 2 little girls

i can picture him being such a good father omg

if either of them get the lobster hand genes, he’ll defend them always

it’s not that he was disappointed to see they had his hands, it’s just that he knows what a life full of ridicule and discrimination feels like and he would give anything for them not to have to go through that too

((i’m soft 🥺🥺🥺))

he loves them so much, he’s a borderline helicopter parent

he loves you even more for giving him these beautiful amazing girls

James March

he wants 2 boys and a girl

he would look at them as a second chance for himself

tiny little james’ in his eyes

anyone who gets in his children’s way or disrespects them had better watch out

he loves them to the end of the earth and back again

and after the kids are born, he’s even more protective and caring towards you

you love it, and it can get a little stifling at times, but you wouldn’t have it any other way

Rory Monahan

he wants 3 boys

this man is a child himself so i think he’d be less of a parent and more of a best friend to them

which leaves you to inforce all the rules

he’d literally have them all hold onto him while you guys go shopping

your kids are in love with both of you, they think you’re amazing parents

if one of them scrapes their knee or something, he’ll swoop in with a bandaid like

“wow, look at that little battle scar you’ve got there! mind if i patch it up, soldier?”

Kai Anderson

he wants 1 boy to continue the messiah legacy

he may be a little tough on him, but he wants him to learn

he would never involve his boy in the cult, rather the opposite

i think he’d teach him to be a respectful young lad

(except for the respecting women part, that’s up to you to teach him)

he wants him to turn out well, not like how his parents parented him

———————————————————————

mini taglist: @lvngdvns @evandearest @magicaljellydonut @psychobitchtess @cobainlover @leatherduncan

sorry if i didn’t tag you! i dont have my normal taglist bc i’m out right now! hope you enjoy! 😘

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seblore · 4 years

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Okay... Let’s do this.

All my life I used to watch clips of internet best friends meeting for the first time and being all watery eyed.... thinking how!? does that even happen?! But never in my life I thought that i would have the urge of meeting someone i talked to online. But you lot.... changed that. One day guys,, one day we will meet... in a cricket match, at a football match... or even bump in to each other in an old age home when we are old (umm wtf no). I am extremely dumb so please please please forgive me i missed you out.

@hadikathefangirl HADIKAPUUUU..... I.... i cant wait to meet you!!!!!! Never in my wildest dreams had I ever thought I would meet a Bangladeshi in this hellsite... let alone thinking our fandoms would be similar... i still can’t believe i found you over here. You are amazing, beautiful, cute, lovely and extremely supportive!!! I just.... LOVE YOU SO SO MUCH!! Sorry if it sounds cringy or over the top, but I am so happy to have you in my life... Have an AMAZING new year!!!

Oh Cricfam! What can i even say about you! YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST THING THAT EVER HAPPENED TO ME (that’s.... umm... exaggerated) Yall are my life now (umm)😆 Each and everyone of you are EXTRAORDINARILY AMAZING. (now that’s not at all exaggerated) Nowadays every moment I’m thinking if anyone wrote anything in Cricfam oops 😝 I have my O levels coming up and I really really have to lower the amount of cricket i watch but it really doesn’t seem like i will be able to do that very easily thanks to yall 😆 I am SO LUCKY to be a part of this wonderful group of people! I love you all !! I have so much more to say but I don’t have time cuZ I SLEPT THE ENTIRE FREAKING DAY AGHH. Oh god do i have to tag everyone of you? So thank you @youreamonocoque (YOU! You are the first person i saw posting about cricket and I.... couldn’t believe it!! I love you 💕), @woakesy (WILL YOU ARE AS AMAZING AS ROOTY), @merryfinchmasandafazzynewyear (fazzy new year ❤️ ) @bailandonorris (you pretty pretty gurl) 🤪🤩 , @arymaest 👏, @knockmeforsix 👋 @suspicious-daydreamer 🙌, @queen-of-love-and-beauty 🙌🙌, @silverkasienka 🤩, @battingonjakku (I HAVE NEVER BEEN AS EXCITED FOR ANYTHING AS CRICFAM YEAR REVIEW!!! You are amazing)@freddi11 😍, @albiegeorge 😍🤩, @copperbutcherbird 😍🤩🥰, @solskjaersredarmy (GGMU BRO) , @musingsofadisastergay (I LOVE MY ICON AND I LOVE YOU), @pretendingtobeangry 😍😡 , @storm-alert 👋, @itsmillartime 👋, @jiminyneesham👋😍 , @eats-paint-for-fun 😘😍, @ofoceanandwaves👋🤩 , @what-is-this-random-stuff😍 , @j-ustkeepwalking (WE LOVE MARNUS LASAGNA AND I LOVE YOU) 🤩👏🙌,@lukesflaredpants 👋, @kittiesandhotguys 👋, @pufflehuffling 👋, @booksnotesandwickets👋 , @canoynmoon👋 , @itsevieboo 👋, @qaafiranaa (just remember you are A BABE 🤩😆😍), @pippitypippin 👋 and all others in the cricfam!!! Sorry it’s 11:42 now and i really gotta hurry 😝

All the Manchester United, Tottenham Hotspurs and Bayern Munich blogs out there, HI!! I am that girl who reblogs all of your posts during a match! 😆 All the football opinions i had ever heard was my father’s and now it feels great to know what others have to say as well and i agree with eveRY SINGLE ONE OF YOU!!! There are a lot of you so I’m not even gonna bother to tag any of you... Yall know who you are and if you dont... well you will the next time i reblog fifteen of your posts during a match 😋

You all made the last year of the decade so much more better!!! I love you all very much. Hope you all have an AMAZING 2020 ahead of you. May all of your wishes come true. HAVE A FANTASTIC NEW YEAR LADS!!! ❤️

#love yall #happy new year #year end post 2019

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dyxnamicart · 5 years

Text

my stupid highschool oneshot thing

look im not a writer, (I used to be when I was fourteen, haven’t done it since then so ya know, you dont use it you lose it lmao)

Anyways this has been highly requested that I post it, im a bit mad because its not exactly how I wish their dynamic was, I’m not great at writing banter (or anything i’m an artist now plewse) but ya know Also DISCLAIMER: This is a piece of fiction, it in no way reflects real life Dan and Phil (In fact my au switches up their personalities a fair bit) and do not tag them okAY P E O P L E They dont wanna see it and I dont want them to see it (Even if this isnt a particularly shippy piece lmao people are getting very angsty as of late) I also don’t have an editor so sorry for any mistakes Anyway here ya go heathens

Dan didn’t notice the opposing teams jock barrelling towards him, not until his leg had swept under his own, causing him to fly through the air, ball no longer in his possession.

In fact it all flew by in a matter of seconds. Dan didn’t really have time to process exactly what was happening until he felt the shock of pain that travelled up his wrist and down his arm as he landed heavily onto it, crying out as he rolled once or twice before coming to a stop… He couldn’t really tell. There was a whistle blow, but the bustling around him seemed dull in comparison to the loudness of the pain in his wrist.

He hissed as he was righted, pulled up and put steadily on his feet, being ushered to the benches, it only felt like five minutes before the game was back on course, bar Dan to be left on the sides, a few claps on the back from his teammates as he let his head come down from the spinning it was doing.

The nurse on staff did a pretty shoddy job of bandaging, but to her credit she did ask if he wanted an ambulance. If his dad knew an ambulance was called because he hurt his wrist... he didn’t even want to imagine the searing look of disappointment he would receive.

So he just declined.

The game was one of the final ones of the season, they were playing against the local private school, which had a surprisingly amount of suspiciously beefed up kids, though with private school money Dan wasn’t surprised they probably had some ins with the law and extra ‘help’.

He really wanted to play in the final, in fact his coach had even been considering him for the team, not that Dan was amazing at football, but he wasn’t the worst. He was passable at best, probably why his parents weren’t here right now to witness the semi, something he supposes he should be counting his lucky stars for now he had an injury as mediocre as a sprained wrist, but now there was a nagging pull in his gut of his own disappointment.

He waited out the game on the bench, figuring he should at least be there for his team for the results, even with a sprained wrist he didn’t want to run away without at least talking to a few of his mates afterwards.

Phil didn’t see the tumble.

He was perched up in the bleachers, trying to ignore the way the mild and darkening sky had began to stew whipping winds that tore right through the threads in his sweater, by sketching insurmountable things he could see.

He didn’t usually go to games, not only was it not his scene, but he would either end up insanely bored or find his eyes following Dan Howell’s god damn limber body. But this was the semis, and he totally wasn’t here to occasionally glance at a certain panting number 91, he at least wanted to show his support for the school. It wasn’t his fault this game was boring and his sketchbook looked far more inviting.

He only looked up when there was a big murmur and gasps coming from the crowd around him, and he couldn’t see who it was at first, but there was a boy sprawled on the ground.

It didn’t take long to figure out it was Dan, and his eyebrows furrowed deeply, closing his sketchbook and shoving it into his bag. He ended up walking down a few rows in the bleachers, just trying to see if the daft idiot was okay, and he sat down again much closer. The nurse did an awful job at bandaging his hand, he could see that from here, and he would have to fix it after the game. Well.. he didn’t have to, of course, but he figured Howell was too much of an airhead to fix it properly and as much as the other grated on him he at least wanted him to be comfortable.

When it came to the end of the game, Phil’s school lost, and there was a brief celebration for the other school as they paraded off the field, while Dan’s team just huddled around to talk to the coach and then walk to the locker rooms, obviously trying to act casual even if they had essentially just been eliminated from the finals.

Looking around, a lot of the families and students were milling out, many of them disappointed by the outcome of the game.

This was their star team, and there had been a surprisingly large turnout for the event, to have it all end this anticlimactically felt a bit wrong, if he was being honest, even if sports definitely weren’t his thing.

Phil headed down towards the locker rooms, some of the boys were already heading out, chatting and bumping into each other as they walked. Boys were talking, over half of them shirtless. He tried to avoid looking at them, while Phil had come to terms with his sexuality internally, he wasn’t out to his school, despite the obvious digs lots of the jocks and ‘cool kids’ would make. He wasn’t exactly subtle.

Dan hadn’t noticed him, he was sitting on a bench and chatting to a teammate, but some of the boys closer to the entrance had.

“Ay! It’s Danny’s little bitch, what’s new Lester?” A boy Phil knew as Jason laughed, throwing an arm around his shoulders, leaning heavily on him.

Phil grunted, and shoved him off. “I’m not anyone’s bitch. Especially not Howell’s.”

There was an ‘oo’ that rippled through the boys, and it was safe to say that Dan had noticed him. He furrowed his eyebrows, and stood up.

“A teacher told me to help Dan.. carry his stuff with his hand like that.” He faltered off, because that half baked excuse really did make him sound like someone’s bitch. But by this point people were beginning to lose interest and ended up either packing up to leave or going back to chatting amongst themselves about a hot girl or something Phil honestly couldn’t care less about.

Phil walked towards Dan, throwing on a mastered look of indifference and annoyance.

“What are you doing back here?” The brunette sighed deeply, running his good hand through his hair. “As if I don’t already get clowned on enough from seeing you during actual school hours.” He said dryly.

Phil rolled his eyes. “I saw that sad excuse for a nurse ‘wrap’ your hand. I’ve seen children under the age of 4 wrap toilet paper around themselves better.”

Dan groaned as he fell back to his sitting position on the bench. “Good deed Lester huh? You aren’t a guardian angel you know.”

“Are you going to turn down actual help with that wrist, Howell. Seriously.” He dropped his bag on the ground, and knelt down, ignoring the few whistles he got from the people still in the room.

Dan rolled his eyes as he looked down at Phil, arched eyebrow and holding his injured wrist with his hand, like he didn’t trust him. “Fine.” He sighed, setting his hand down on his leg, looking down at Phil with a suspicious and unless he was imagining it, flushed face.

Phil carefully lifted the brunettes injured hand, frowning at the small pang of guilt he felt when Dan hissed in a sharp breath, quiet, as if being a little louder would shatter his reputation in one fell swoop.

By now the locker room had basically emptied out, Dan’s mates sauntered away, hefting their heavy gym bags over their shoulders as their voices echoed down the hallway and slowly faded into the cool night air.

Dan and Phil sat in silence for a few moments as Phil examined the bandage. Dan seemed to relax a little, and he allowed the feeling of calm to wash over them now there was no eyes examining their every move. The indifference and hostility seemed to drain from the air.

He didn’t know if it was the late night game or the lack of people, but he felt as though he was back before highschool, back before their fall out. Before their life became a series of quips and tension seeping into the fond memories he once had for the boy in front of him.

“Why do you play, when you end up hurting yourself like this?” His question was genuine, none of the concealed fire that was usually behind his voice when he talked to Dan.

Phil used his other hand to unroll the bandage. He had seen the first aid kit it came from, the contents being the single bandage, two band aids and a single cotton swab. Not the most ideal for a sport like this, hands on and physical, but their school wasn’t really known for their state of the art resources.

Dan looked unsure of whether or not he should give a witty response or answer seriously. In the end he seemed too exhausted to spit out a clever one liner. So he opted for the truth.

“I don’t know..” Dan huffed a breath out of his nose, like he was out of practice with talking about his emotions. “The guys are cool.. people like a jock you know?” He pauses for a moment, like he was struggling with whether or not he wanted to continue. “And I kind of want my dad to be proud of me? You know my dad. I want him to think.. I’m one of the lads. One of the boys.. not a royal screw up son.” He snorted, good hand rubbing the back of his neck like he was trying to play off his words as ridiculous.

But Phil didn’t laugh.

“Proud of you?” He repeated, slightly quieter as he slowly started to wind the bandage around Dan’s stiff wrist.

Dan shrugged, looking away and seemingly focusing on a spot far across the room, like he was trying to be anywhere but here, talking to a friend who had been distanced by time and change.

But Phil remembers, he remembers his curly brown hair bouncing around when he was excited, when he was jumping around playing cops and robbers, he remembers his loud and boisterous laugh and the way his cheeks dimpled and filled with colour. He remembers a time when he knew the boy in front of him more then he knew anyone in the world. When he thought Dan was his forever friend and that nothing would ever change that.

Guess something changed.

“You know I’m proud of you,” He continued, not looking up from bandaging. He could feel Dan’s eyes on him now, he could feel the incredulous and doubtful eyes bore into his skin, see into his soul. He didn’t seem to have expected an actual answer in response. “I’m proud of you when I see you play piano. When I see your eyes light up and when you lose yourself in the keys. When you recite dumb Shakespearen poetry and when you are on stage commanding the spotlight, when the only person who matters is you. That’s what I’m proud of. That’s what makes me think, THIS is Dan Howell. THIS is who he is meant to be. Not a shallow jock with a sharp tongue and attitude. I’m proud of the real you.”

He clipped the bandage pin on the end of the roll, now safely locked on Dan’s wrist, and he went to pull his hand away but was stopped by a hand placed over his.

Dan’s eyes were how he remembered, not in way they were for the past two years, glazed over as he tried to cram his way into a puzzle he didn’t fit into, but filled with an unfathomable tenderness and something he couldn’t quite put his finger on

They didn’t need to exchange words, the soft smile Dan gave him spoke a thousand words, making up for time that felt lost before now.

He stood up, finally dropping Phil’s hand and grabbing his jacket off the bench. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

Their silence was welcoming as they walked down the hall towards the exit. The last few years had been full of quips and jabs, fast insults and banter that sometimes toed the line as not quite friendly. This silence, it was new, but it felt right. Dan couldn’t quite understand, but there was a shift that felt comfortable.

Dan had known Phil a long time, longer then anyone in this god forsaken school. He was quiet and reserved and he enjoyed painting and drawing. He was creative, and he didn’t care what people thought of him. He was unapologetically himself, and that was something that he only wished he could be.

For the longest time it was him and Phil. Dan and Phil against the world, playing Mario cart and watching shitty movies, always at each other’s houses like they belonged together.

Then high school happened.

The desire to fit in hit Dan like a ton of bricks. While Phil was content to remain a Mario kart loving geek, Dan couldn’t stand being the butt of the joke. He couldn’t stand his dad being disappointed whenever he brought Phil home to do something nerdy. As the years went by it became a sort of crutch for him and Phil to make snide remarks at each other as they passed in the halls, glaring across the halls and that’s how it stayed.

Don’t get him wrong, he loved to see Phil riled up. He loved to see his eyebrows furrow together and his eyes roll. His arms crossed and his posture unimpressed. If anything that was his favourite part, the way his voice flooded with heat and passion, as he stared at him with the intensity of a bonfire. He loved to tease him and play his surprisingly short temper like a fiddle.

But he wasn’t attracted to him. No way. Phil wasn’t a pretty girl. He did NOT find his eyes pretty and the way his hair sometimes fell into his eyes and his hands didn’t itch to run his hands through it.

He was straight. He had to be.

His heart dropped a little, and he couldn’t explain why, but he looked over at Phil, who was walking beside him.

They were outside now, and it was raining, not too heavily but enough to get you fairly wet. Despite the fact Phil was wearing a sweater and long overalls, he could see him shiver, the fabric of the sweater probably allowed the biting wind to nip tight through it.

He shrugged off his jacket, and gently wrapped it around Phil’s shoulders, forcing them to stop momentarily. The street light cast a soft light over them, and his eyes met the other boys, and for a moment they stared at each other, Dan watching as raindrop followed the contours of Phil’s face, a drop following his cheekbone and the slope of his jaw.

He coughed, rubbing the back of his neck again as he started walking. “Okay okay, lets get you home, Lester.”

“Are you sure you aren’t cold?” Phil enquires inquisitively as he sped walked a bit to catch up with him.

He shrugged. “Still running on adrenaline I guess.” It was a lie, he was slightly cold. But it felt right, and he continued to walk with him in silence.

Phil was holding the jacket around himself as they approached his house, and they stopped just under the porch, the light flickering on to illuminate his face.

Dan stuffed his good hand in his pocket, and he clicked his tongue as Phil went to shrug off the jacket to give back. “Nah, wash it first, don’t want your nerd germs on my clothes.” Despite the insult, he found himself smiling warmly, and Phil too just chuckled.

“Alright, I’ll give it to you on Monday or something, Howell.”

Dan saluted as he turned to walk away, and he could feel Phil staring through his back as he walked back into the rain. They were only a street apart, but he knew that was going to be one long walk.

#mine #stick to drawing Hayley u idiot #ur right i should #but this only spawned at like 2am so im sorry #highschool au

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stonecoldbex · 5 years

Note

So re-taking the topic of student body prez Lexi and trouble maker Becky, do they go to parties? like I dont know why I have this idea of them out partying when some frat boy decides to get to handsy with Lexi and Becky just goes full protective ´take one step closer and I´ll punch you in the face´ mode, dunno I just feel she'd be like super protective of Lexi, but not like going into overprotective you know?

GOOD QUESTION THAT I CAN DEF ANSWER 😇 Firstly, let’s talk about how they each feel about parties.

So Bex goes to parties when she’s bored. She’s not a huge partygoer, but she definitely enjoys it, ya know? There’s a certain aesthetic to it that she can get behind, mayhaps it has to do with the chaos of it all (when it gets to that point lol) or the relaxing nature of it. To her, that’s something she feels she can fit right in just fine. You won’t see her drinking hard (she’s been there and done that, though she slips every now and then) and I’d like to think she’s the one that helps others keep their drinking at a minimum.

Like with her buddy Sheamus… lol he thinks he’s a big drinker but gets a little carried away when it comes to competitions with their other buddy Cesaro. Typical punks lololol.

But in fact, Bex’s the first person to babysit Lexi when she decides to drink hard the first time. We’ll get into that in a bit tho. But yesss, parties bring people together, and being a part of that whole scene… it can be invigorating! Becky loves the atmosphere. It’s a great way to let loose and have fun for her. That’s what life is all about!

For Lexi, parties are… strange? My biggest hot take is that she’s actually introverted in a lot of ways. Whether that has to do with the fact that parties make her anxious in some ways, or if it’s cuz it simply does nothing for her, is debatable. But all she knows is that she’s more likely to man the fruit punch bowl more than anybody—like she typically does whenever there’s a school dance. Seth, second in their class and her vice president, has to laugh when he sees her at this particular party that she and Bex got invited to.

“Whoa! It’s the Prez is the flesh! Nice to see you come out of your shell for once.”

“Shut up, Rollins,” Lexi mutters vehemently amidst drunken cheers in the background. “I’m just here with Bex.”

“Ah. So we have her to thank. Didn’t know you had a thing for outcasts. It’s good! She’s doing God’s work helping you out.”

Lexi rolls her eyes when Seth does that laugh that he does when he knows he’s right. To think he was one of her closest friends.

“Hey, I don’t blame you. She’s pretty cute. But you won’t hear me tell her that. She might kick my ass.”

It’s funny but it’s true. Lexi sighs when she spots her girl from afar, clinking a bottle in her hand with Sheamus and some other unfamiliar people before chugging it down with ease. Lexi had been meaning to change her outlook on things, especially with this being her senior year, but somehow seeing that made her feel like this was a mistake. It didn’t help much that with every person that Bex introduced her to, they almost always gave her the stink eye.

Probably for a variety of reasons.

“You got rid of sodas on campus.”

“You think you’re so better than everyone.”

“You changed the theme for winter formal.”

“Personally? I voted for Seth for student body president.”

That last one did her in.

“This sucks,” she says, pouring herself her sixth shot of fruit punch. There was way too many people here, and not many she would consider her friend. She was about to go outside and wait for Bex when suddenly she bumps into a much taller, older boy in the party.

“Oh hey, where you going?” Typical frat guy says smoothly.

Lexi scoffs and moves aside when he blocks her.

“Come on,” he says, “I won’t bite.”

“I will if you don’t move out of my way.”

“Oh? I like that too…”

Lexi was just about to pull her hand away from him, when Becky comes in between them, eyes lit with a red burning fire.

“Take one step closer and I’ll punch you in the face, lad.”

He laughed. “Alright, alright. You can tag along too—“

THWACK!

Bex stood over the guy, now sprawled and knocked out cold on the floor. Others around them hollered and cheered as she rubbed her knuckles nonchalantly. Lexi stared at her wide-eyed.

“Holy shit, Bex!”

“Let’s get outta here.”

Bex and Lexi had just pulled out of the drive way and onto the road when Lexi noticed Becky gripping the wheel tightly.

“Stop the car, dammit.”

It fell on deaf ears.

“Bex, stop the car!”

The other girl sighed and pulled to the side, avoiding Lexi’s gaze, not interested in meeting them any time soon. But she does anyway when Lexi pulls her chin towards her, forcing her to meet their eyes.

“You okay?“

“I should be asking you,“ Becky sighed. “I’m sorry I left you alone. I should have known Sheamus would invite his dumb frat buddies from college.“

Lexi shrugged. “It’s whatever. Typical that my first outing at a real party would end up like this.”

“It’s not your fault. That guy was just an asshole.“

“Everybody kinda was, to be honest.“

“I’m sorry, love.“

Lexi was quiet. She noticed the way Bex rubbed her knuckles, the one that she used to punch with, and took it in her hands.

“That was a mean right hook you threw.“

“Really? I didn’t think you’d like that.”

“Are you kidding me? That was the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. It was really cool, Bex.”

Becky grinned, wagging her eyebrows. “So you enjoyed that, huh?”

Lexi glared at her, before rolling her eyes.

“Let’s just go home and watch a movie.“

“Can I pick the movie?“

“No, we both pick.“

“Ooh! We can watch wrestling!“

“Becky.“

“Alright, fine. Maybe a Disney movie?“

Lexi smiled, brushing her thumb over Bex’s knuckled. “It sounds like a date.”

#i meAN WHAT #yea this kinda ran away from me again oops #belexa #high school au #lol hope that answered your question

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