#anyways weird tag tangent

[suburbanbonfire]

I love your evil little update! Every behind the scenes photo of your work is so so cool to peek at

Thank you, Anon!!

I love seeing the art go from nondescript square to something actually recognizable. I've also always loved seeing the process of how my favorite artists make their own work, and being able to learn from that, so it makes me happy to do that in return as well!

and also to be evil

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

[pespillo]

they did say the easiest way thru a guy´s heart is thru the stomach

[mazken]

a trusted brother

[anachronistic-falsehood]

SHIP BINGO FOR THE GUYS U WANNA TALK ABOUT. CELLTW I THINK . gimme the cannibalism rundown king

MAC. looking u dead in the eyes. getting into celltw has almost convinced me to start watching hannibal i guess i just really like gay cannibalism and i need more of it. ANYWAY listen listen listennnn. ok. qcellbit and qpac are my little fucking guys alright. my favourite boys. i'm gonna give you their whole fucking backstory here ok. ok. infodump time. i apologize in advance

so cellbit was a child soldier who didn't even have a NAME. resorted to cannibalism to survive. badboyhalo was there. both stuck in a war. killed thousands of people. AWFUL TIMES!!! goes from child soldier to domestic terrorist somehow. he gets arrested and thrown in FUCKING ALCATRAZ. HE'S STILL A CANNIBAL. somehow manages to sneak a cell phone in and uses it to threaten prisoners and people start calling him cell because he literally didn't have a name before. right. ENTER PAC E MIKE. they're robbers for a living. the sillies <3 they robbed a top security museum and got caught and thrown in alcatraz. cell has gone bonkers and fucking yonkers. weird habit of licking his lips. i'm in love with him. protects pac e mike from other prisoners. they are wary of him (understandable). pac e mike make a friend named jv who tries to help them escape. cell kills him right in front of them and tries to escape himself. gets thrown in solitary. pac e mike go to the solitary cells just to mock him. lots of lowkey gay tension in that scene???? eventually pac e mike escape with the help of another friend but cell tags along because he threatens them with a gun he got from a security guard he killed. THIS MAN IS UNHINGED!!!

they end up on a deserted island. the boat they used to sail there needs repairs and four people can't fit on it at all anymore. cell decides one of them needs to die and tells the others they can decide which one has to be killed. cell is the only one who manages to find food on the island, which happens to be apples. he hoards it from the others and I SHIT YOU NOT THERE IS SOME WEIRD FUCKING RELIGIOUS IMAGERY GOING ON HERE. OK. pac seeks out cell, and CELL, WHO IS SITTING IN A TREE, OFFERS PAC AN APPLE IF HE KILLS ONE OF THE OTHERS. PAC SAYS HE'LL THINK ABOUT IT AND CELL GIVES HIM AN APPLE. I'M GOING TO EAT DRYWALL. I DON'T KNOW IF THEY DID THAT ON PURPOSE BUT THEY SURE FUCKIN DID IT ALRIGHT. at some point cell eats pac's leg but we have no idea when that canonically happens bc it was only canonized in qsmp and wasn't shown in Fuga Impossível where he and mike met cell, but IT'S STILL FUCKING CANON AND I LIKE TO THINK IT HAPPENED SOMEWHERE ON THAT FUCKING ISLAND. ALRIGHT. IT COULD HAVE HAPPENED IN PRISON BUT IT HAPPENING ON THE ISLAND JUST MAKES SO MUCH MORE SENSE 2 ME.

they trick cell and trap him, telling him to use the last bullet in his gun for himself. the three of them leave the island and hear a single gunshot. they think he's dead. SIKE!!! somehow years and years later, pac, mike, and cell, plus two others are all on the same ship together and end up on a new island. cell now goes by cellbit??? and really likes mysteries and is a pretty chill person in comparison to how he used to be??? he went through copious amounts of therapy and is actually somewhat well adjusted. he's a pretty cool guy.

he's changed. mike has changed. pac has changed. they're all so different. he and cellbit get stuck in a cave and they kiss. it's weird. they don't do it again after that. cellbit starts talking to another guy, roier. they get married. pac is disappointed but he doesn't talk about it too much. why is he disappointed? he doesn't really know. pac has changed but every time he looks at cellbit he's back in that prison. one day, everyone's furniture goes missing, including cellbit's. pac's first instinct is to grab his son by the shoulders and tell him to pack his things because when cellbit sees that someone has robbed him he will go on a rampage the likes of which no one has ever seen. that doesn't happen. cellbit snaps and demands public execution of the culprit so they can drink his blood. he's holding a knife. he's easily placated and puts the knife away. cell is clearly somewhere in there. this is the first glimpse pac has gotten of him in the five months they've been here. pac licks his lips the same way cell used to. it's a habit.

their son goes missing. the president is put on drugs by the federation. pac has lost everything. he takes the fed's medication so he can try finding a cure. he sits in cellbit's castle panicking for a solid five minutes, debating with himself over whether he should leave some of the medication for cellbit to find in hopes he can help them. he tries to find a cure on his own while still hopped up on pills. there's blood on the floor. he leaves notes for his loved ones. he knows cellbit well enough to know he will come looking and find this. the thought is as terrifying as it is relieving. cellbit develops a cure with pac's notes. cellbit yells at the president, the fellow father of their son. pac only hears cell. he takes the antidote he helped develop. cellbit guides him home and tells him he's not alone anymore and never will be again. they hug. it's terrifying. it's comforting. it's weird.

cellbit clearly left that prison behind. pac never has. he probably never will.

[theboost]

All of the rocky movies are on Netflix so I’ve been skim watching them and I truly think the greatest flaw of the character rocky balboa is not taking his brother in law out back with a baseball bat and beating him with it until something turned into pulp

[a-wins-a-win]

"I'm not asking for a heart / or the brains to be savant / or courage, though I need that too..." - Peter Chaily, 'Just A Girl'

i am losing it actually the writing in this show - it's such a brilliant way to incorporate the Wizard Of Oz reference to subtly (or i mean. unsubtly. as the case may be) make a joke* about Peter being a 'friend of dorothy' "i'm not asking for a heart" (tin man) "or the brains [...]" (scarecrow) "or courage..." (cowardly lion)

and like - yeah it's kind of obvious, but it's still a really fun, clever way of incorporating the themes that surround Peter as a character and create a more solid sense of the taboo of him admitting that he's capital-G-Gay (and i didn't pick up on it until literally this afternoon despite semi-regularly listening to the demo tracks, so make of that what you will) (and i mean. arguably it's him literally asking to not be a friend of Dorothy/Gay, to avoid asking for anything that Those characters in particular would want)

*i wanna say that obviously the euphemism/flagging itself is not the joke, like it's a real and legitimate thing, but i'm sure you get me

[stardustdiiving]

My friend today was like you know fern I think your genshin favs are really funny because to me they’re all very tame green flags that have good vibes and then there’s zhongxiao which everyone hates. And I was like. WELL…..YES….SNUCHFJFJCNC

[yourpostisonpinterest]

@mag200

i found your post on pinterest!

[kagaintheskywithdiamonds]

I was about to say "that wouldn't happen because of patient confidentiality" but I've visited a friend in a mental institution before, and sadly patient confidentiality is often breached, and far too casually. I could tell you quite a bit about one poor autistic kid who ended up there after a particularly bad meltdown. The staff were talking about his case where I could very plainly hear them (like, just in a bitching-about-their-jobs kind of way). Apparently the kid refused to take the pills they gave him, so the staff crushed them up and snuck them into his food

I remember sitting in that visitor waiting room and they had this sign on the wall that was called the "patient bill of rights" or something like that, and it listed things like, patients have the right to confidentiality. Patients have the right to refuse medications. Etc

I saw most if not all of those rights being blatantly violated in the brief time that I was there

and this was in like 2017. Imagine how bad it must've been in the 80s

Here's an idea: Ford shoots Stanley with the crossbow. Ford frantically calls 911, babbling incoherently between choked-out sobs, but he gets just enough information across to send responders to his location.

When the paramedics arrive, there's nothing they can do. Stan is dead.

Then the police arrive. Ford might have the right to remain silent but certainly not the ability as he breaks down in front of them. "I killed him, I killed him, oh God, I killed him..."

Ford is arrested. He makes no attempt to resist as he's cuffed and placed in the back of the patrol car. Besides, he deserves this, he thinks. I'm a killer. I'm a monster. After ten years Stan still came to help me and I killed him. Lock me away before I can hurt anyone else.

At the police station, Ford is allowed one phone call. But, who on earth would he even call? He can think of only two people in the world that he's even remotely on speaking terms with, Caryn and Shermie, the latter of whom he hasn't spoken to in years either—not because of some grudge, just because he's been busy and the two were never that close. He can't possibly call Sherman out of the blue to say "I'm in jail for killing our brother."

So all that leaves is Caryn. Ford almost dials the number for his childhood home, but he realizes that Filbrick might answer, so he dials the number for his mother's psychic business instead.

"Ma, it's me." he chokes out, cutting off her introductory spiel.

"Ford? Honey, are you okay?"

"I..." he hesitates. God, how on earth is he supposed to explain what happened? "Something, something terrible happened, and I'm in jail, and..." He can barely get the words out between sobs. "It's Stanley. I, he... Stanley's dead."

"...What?" her response is a heartbroken whisper.

"It's my fault, I—oh God, I didn't mean it! I was, I thought he, I wasn't expecting, oh God, I killed him! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry..."

After his phone call, Ford is processed and fingerprinted. There aren't enough spaces for all six of his digits, so his littlest finger on each hand goes undocumented. Ford isn't surprised by the comments that follow. He's been hearing them his whole life.

"What the hell?! This guy's got six fingers. Count 'em, six!" "Maybe his mom fucked her own brother or something. How else do ya get a freak a' nature like that?"

The comments aren't directed at him, but Ford's not deaf, and these pigs seem to be making no effort to keep their voices down. He would probably find their words to be quite upsetting if he wasn't already so emotionally drained and numb.

Ford decides to plead guilty. He has no defense, he murdered his brother in cold blood. Might as well save everyone the trouble of taking this to trial. In a way, Ford realizes, it might actually be advantageous for him to be in prison—or at least, advantageous to the rest of the world. Once he's locked up, Ford won't be able to open the portal even if he wants to. Of course, Bill won't be happy about that, and Ford fully expects the demon to throw a tantrum about it first chance he gets. But, so what? All of a sudden Ford is a lot less afraid of Bill's threats, less afraid to sleep. What can Bill do to him at this point? Bash his skull open on the prison bars? Good, he thinks. Let me rot in hell like I deserve.

The only person he can bring himself to feel any concern for at this point is his future cellmate. Hopefully that guy can hold his own in a fight. He can't stand the thought of another person getting hurt—possibly getting killed—because he was stupid enough to get duped by Bill. Maybe Ford should try to convince the prison staff to put him in solitary. Or maybe after witnessing some of Bill's antics they'll put him in a padded cell. Ford can't decide if spending a lifetime in the padded cell would be better or worse than getting his head bashed in.

[koy6na]

conflicted

xavier isn't really your type, so you say. so why does being with him feel so incredibly right? tags: 4.8k words, nsfw, overstimulation, creampie, spit mentioned, mating press, fem reader

a/n: i wanted to write reader as someone who has trouble knowing what she wants and is in denial of her feelings. xavier is very understanding of this. also sorry this got wayyyy too long i went on a weird tangent towards the end oopsie:3

he’s not the type you typically go for. he’s a bit of a basket case and his eyes are unusually assertive. maybe it was the unavoidable fact that he was your co-worker that made him desirable to you that night. maybe it was those annoyingly alluring blue eyes whose gaze you tried your hardest to avoid. either way it wasn’t like the two of you were dating. if you asked him exactly what you were he’d probably categorize you as colleagues.

sure, you had hooked up a handful of times. you’d “mistakenly” stumble upon his doorstep, claiming it was a drunken accident after a clumsy night out. he’d insist on getting you your first sip of water in over four hours and a nice meal to combat the liquor. before bed when you’re washing your face in his bathroom, you tell yourself it that it doesn't quite feel right. he’s too uniform, too clean, and way too normal. you didn’t mean to lead him on. you never thought he'd grow to like you this much. you're not sure how to feel.

your last hookup was with a friend of a friends at a lackluster party, your last relationship ended with a sad last hurrah, and though you don't really want to admit it, you hadn’t really been seeing anyone other than xavier for the past year. it wasn’t like you to be so still, so stagnant with someone who you didn't call a boyfriend. his soap smelled nice and his towels were soft. you swear you’d never seen a cleaner bathroom in your life. today when you show up unannounced at his door he doesn’t question you. he simply stands aside as you saunter into the living room. things were strikingly casual but you liked it that way. it was simpler, easier to digest. no strings or promises to uphold. it was just sex, and anyways there was the matter of workplace etiquette. the two of you could only be considered colleagues after all.

his living room is neat, everything in precise order. his house smells nice, but you can’t quite name the exact scent. when you take a seat on his couch he doesn’t hesitate to take the spot next to you. "did you ever get the lab results from those aether cores we found last week?" you ask as you lean against his side, fidgeting with your phone. you can feel his eyes boring into you. "no not yet. who are you texting?" he asks bluntly. "tara." the conversation lays flat against the two of you. it never goes too low or too high. right in the middle where it's comfortable. you go from laying against his ribcage to having your head in his lap. the movie you'd turned on was beginning to drag, the popcorn he'd made an hour ago was stale. you couldn't help but wonder if maybe the two of you had gotten too casual, but you also don't know why you care so much. you knew what you wanted from him because there was only one thing standing between you.

the first time was a mistake. an honest mistake on a bad night out. you're not sure why he was there or why you even went over to him in the first place. there was a stumble to get into the elevator. you were certain you'd pressed floor 5. or had you even pressed the button at all? a part of you believed that xavier had beaten you to the chase and maybe led you straight to your doom after all. when you both arrived at the sixth floor you couldn't bring yourself to protest xavier's suggestion to come in, just for a bowl of ramen.

upon entering his apartment you can recall the shuffle of feet and the thrashing of tongues. you remember the flush of his face and exactly what his fingers felt like. to your horror you had been able to remember too much of what had occurred the night before.

you were terrified the next morning to discover just how far things had progressed. yet when you saw him, it all became weirdly normal. there was something calm and yet slightly unnerving in the way he looked at you. at first it creeped you out, although discomfort quickly turned to intrigue. it seemed like he actually enjoyed knowing that the two of you had slept together. a strange feeling of lust mixed with something more complex overcomes you with a chill when you remember.

when you sit up slowly, face inches from his, he barely reacts. you see the twinge in the diameter of his pupils but remind yourself that a normal person would've never noticed something so trivial. "what is it?" he asks, his voice is still calm. "i was just thinking that we could be doing something else right now. something fun." you whisper. you're sure he can feel the vibrations in your voice from the forced proximity between you. he swallows thickly, and you feel the motion in your bones. "what are you suggesting?" he asks, the corners of his mouth twinging upwards.

you're both smiling at each other. you waste no time begging or being extra suggestive. you slip your palm over his crotch as your lips meet his. his lips move against yours making you feel the contrast in tempo. xavier's tongue gently melts against your wild, convulsing muscle. it's so like him to be so sensual and particular. it's annoying. a casual hookup isn't supposed to be all lovey-dovey like this. from what you've experienced they're usually clumsy and messy and typically you want them to be over as soon as they start. you always have to push him a little to speed things up.

you can feel how hard he is. the material of his pants is taut against the growing tension. when you start to unbutton him he quickly grabs your wrist. you gasp lightly at how abrupt he is. "someone's feeling bold today." he whispers, the words flutter against your lips. "you don't want to?" you ask, knowingly. he laughs breathlessly. "i didn't say that." he mumbles before dropping your wrist into his lap. your hand instinctively cups his cock. a muffled whimper escapes him. to others he might seem restrictive towards his emotions but his boyish tendencies often showed during moments like these. he was actually quite easy to read. you were sure xavier hoped for something more than a sleazy happening. you were sure from the way that he looked at you that he saw more than a hookup, and much more than a colleague.

the drastic contrast that reverberated in waves between you and xavier was becoming too stark. he was exceedingly successful in his work and he seemed to you like the world’s most reliable guy ever. you were clumsy, disorganized, and hopeless at times. sure you worked harder than ever as part of the hunter's association, but your reasoning dwelled deeper than a good work ethic.

you didn't have time for a relationship, and certainly not a relationship with someone as put together as xavier. although there were times it felt like there was a different side to him, something less proper. something more like you. it flickered in his face like candlelight before blowing away like smoke.

you start to take off your shorts, trying to ignore xavier's searing gaze on you. when he finally lets you unsheathe him, you don't waste any time. his eyes grow in shock when you slide yourself into his lap. your clit bumps against the underside of his shaft as you shamelessly grind against him. you've never done it like this with him. you want to take whatever it is you need from him, unapologetically so he gets the idea. whatever's going on with you two, it was strictly for pleasure. you moan louder than you intend to when you finally slide down on him.

you can't help but be a little embarrassed at how wet you are from just a little bit of kissing but you definitely can feel how much he's twitching inside of you. you grin at the way his hips stutter against the back of your thighs. he's got it worse than you. "i didn't think you liked it this way." xavier's voice is strained as he remarks. "of course i like it this way." you respond unequivocally. you're breathless as you grind up and down onto him. you know he's gonna cum first, you can feel it as you increase the tempo. the stretch is honestly remarkable. he's definitely the biggest you've ever been with but you try not to think about it too much.

for such a docile guy he can be a bit surprising in the bedroom. so when he tightens his grip around you and starts pistoning in and out, you can't stop the hitch in your breath and the pathetic moan that tumbles out of your mouth.

his head is buried in your chest. he's close enough to where you can hear each frenzied pant. you get the sudden urge to tease him, just a little. you can’t help but smile as you loop your hands through his hair, petting the back of his head. he shudders a bit before forcing himself deep into you, your thighs crush against each others with unexpected strength. the angle he's hitting feels nothing short of insane to you. like he's putting every ounce of effort into forcing his cock inside you and pulling an orgasm straight from within.

ugh, he always does this, you think to yourself.

you know he's close and before you know it, he's almost getting you there. the rhythm of his thrusts starts to slow. he loosens his grip against you, snaking a hand between the two of you to thumb against your clit.

he's looking at you now, and you despise how good he looks.

his cheeks are flushed and somehow his eyes look even bluer than usual. his lips are parted and his panting is gradually becoming more like moans. your hips falter as your mouth parts slightly.

his thumb moves in brisk pulses as his hips are shaky and uneven. when he cums, your whole body moves with his. a couple short, hard thrusts into your spasming hole cause your moans to go high pitched and sharp. the staccato of your bodies transposes notes to your voices. you're so close you can practically grab it with your own two hands. he's cumming in you, it's so hot it's nauseating. you can't seem to remember when you starting letting him do it raw.

all that you can recall is that it was definitely his idea.

his thumb hasn't stopped circling that tender spot between your legs. his thrusts have stopped completely and his head rests on the couch now. your hips raise, unintentionally before coming back down. you start to find a pitiful rhythm to fuck yourself on his dick to. he's so overstimulated, one because he just came and you're so tight, and wet, and so so warm,

but also because he almost can't bear to see that unbelievably desperate face you're making.

"fuck, fuck i'm cumming." you whine, tilting your head back as your eyelids shut tightly. when you cum it's like your whole body freezes, you're only able to slide your cunt over his softening cock. you're losing yourself to pleasure and yet you hate that you can't pull yourself together in front of him. you know for a fact that he's got his eyes locked on your expression. so why do you let your mouth fall open? why do you let that desperate, breathy moan slip out for him? when you barely flit your eyes open you catch a glimpse of him.

he looks like he's in pain almost.

he's wincing at the strangulating feeling of you cumming on his flaccid cock. eyebrows scrunched, heaving like he just can't seem to catch his breath.

the aftershock of your orgasm makes your thighs shake like a new born deer. your breathing is uneven as you lift yourself off of him, your own breath hitches when you hear him hiss sharply. you collapse against him on the couch, unable to pry your eyes from the sight of his creamy, softening dick in front of you.

his pants are still halfway on his thighs, yet they're perfectly clean and black. you can feel his cum slipping out of you and you try your best to hold in a moan. when you get the chance to slip away into the bathroom you find yourself in a strange mood. you knew it was time to get cleaned up and head out, but you're fidgeting in the shower, stalling almost.

just a second more to breathe in the misty scent of his shampoo. you hope he doesn't bother to even say goodbye, that he only let you in to have a measly fuck. when you turn the faucet to the right, the sudden absence of the scalding water leaves goosebumps along your skin. you run your hands over your slicked body. you remember his hands around your torso, and his lips against the shell of your ear. you think about the fact that he likes having his hair played with and that face he makes when he puts it in like it's the first time every time. he always lets you cum no matter what and do whatever you want to him. you know exactly how he feels about you, so why are you hesitating?

you know the right thing to do is leave. go back to your apartment and stop playing house with someone who deserves someone other than you. but when you open the door to see him sitting, waiting for you on the other side, you feel sick to your stomach.

his head immediately perks up at the sight of you, wet hair and still dewy from the water. "that was a long shower." he says liltingly. you're speechless for a second before fickly reminding yourself to not let the lines blur too much. "sorry. i think i'm gonna head out soon. got some work to do." your voice is colder than you intended to make it. his eyes lower, as he turns his gaze to the side. you're not sure what to say for the millionth time in this apartment.

you hate how uncomfortable this whole routine is and you can't help but feel sorry for him. for the past few months he's been giving you the same response when you leave. like a child being left with an unwanted babysitter.

like he thinks he'll be fine after you leave and yet for some reason he doesn't want you to go.

he always looks angry at first but you watch in silent regret as it turns to disappointment. you press your lips together in awkward reform. you expect him to give you a lofty goodbye. to walk you out with a chaste kiss. instead he's pulling you in. "we both know you don't need to be doing any more "work" than you've already done." he says sweeping you into his arms. you're frozen as he leans in. "you're always so quick to leave." he whispers as his lids grow heavy. your hand rests on his tricep, you smile at him nervously.

you can't tell if you want to melt into his touch or to run far away. the lovesick look on his face is adding fuel to the fire burning a hole straight through your sternum. "i've just been slacking on paperwork. i guess there's more to being a hunter than just killing wanderers." you reply. you're desperately trying to combat this strange occurrence, but you can feel your voice getting sweeter as you sink into him.

you're think you're actually sinking into the ambience of the room and the idea of how domestic this whole thing is. "but i've got dinner going on the stove, so you can't leave yet." xavier's rocking you back and forth in his lap slightly and you can't help but flush with embarrassment.

since when did you become so sappy?

you don't push him away when he kisses you, once on the cheek and twice on the lips. there's the familiar feeling of being doted on far too much for your sanity. you feel smothered by the sudden desire to lay in his lap and kiss and never be apart. "stay. you should stay the night." he whispers lowly. before you can stop yourself you're nodding at him.

dinner tastes like affliction when you're scarfing it down to avoid saying too much at the table. he won't stop looking at you. even after your useless tirade about different aether cores and whether or not your evol could resonate with people you don't like. he always answers as honestly and as thoroughly as he can.

when he reaches his hand across the table to grab yours, you're tormented by the way his thumb caresses the back of your hand. you smile that same feeble smile you seem to be producing whenever you're shown affection and try to play off the way you awkwardly snatched your hand back. with a nervous laugh and a pang of anxiety rushing through you, you can't really seem to think straight. when you slip under the table, between xavier's knees the look on his face makes the guilty, sunken feeling in your stomach a thousand times worse.

you've done this before, so why is he making that face? like he feels sorry for you. like maybe he thinks this should be the last time you see each other. you're not sure what to do or say to him when he's like this. because this was complicated. this was the exact reason you didn't want to get involved with him in the first place. there was no shame in having sex, however the shame that overcame your senses under xavier's gaze was becoming too much to bear.

the signals in your brain are getting all mixed up, your nerves are reacting in the worst way possible. why is this so diffucult for you to navigate? you want to go home and bury your head into the blankets. instead you're sliding your hand up and down xavier's hardening cock."what's this about?" he asks, dully. you're unable to stop yourself from glancing down in quiet humiliation.

"i thought you wanted this." you mumble, barely above your breath. you let go of him and sink back on your knees, your hands resting in your lap. xavier makes a noise, telling you he knows what you're referring to. when he zips his pants, he's looking down at you with an unreadable, yet dormant expression. he scoots his chair back and gently moves the hair from your face. "come here." his voice is still calm, but you can't ignore the sweet, nurturing tone.

when you stand between his legs, still gazing at the floor he laughs lightly. "what's wrong? did something happen to make you act all weird today?" he teases. a million complex questions run rampant in the front of your mind, the simpler ones start forming as solid thoughts. what are we? why didn't you turn me away that night? why do you keep looking at me like that?

instead, "can we go to sleep now?" is the only thing you can manage to say. you can see the confusion behind xavier's eyes but you don't retract the question. "sure. are you tired?" he says while standing up. "no, not really." you respond, turning your back to him.

you're jumping his bones as soon as you enter his room. the way your teeth clash against his hurts, but it doesn't deter you or even slow you down.

you know he won't push you away so you persevere. this is what feels right. no guilt or shame in fucking each others brains out. at least not as much as holding hands at the dinner table(or something). once you're on your back you can sense that alter ego of xavier's lingering on his fingertips as he lifts the hem of your shirt up. he immediately attaches his mouth around your sensitive nipple. you quiver in time with the movements of his tongue, making you whimper.

he's kissing down your stomach, head dipping low. you grab his face with both your hands before he goes lower. the two of you look at each other for a moment, breathing heavy and staring with deep intent. "just put it in, please." you manage to spit out, more sweetly than you intended. he obliges, shedding his shirt onto the floor. you inhale sharply at the sight of his pale skin in the light of the moon. he kisses you, hard and messy. it makes you moan and grasp at the ends of his hair. the sound of his zipper gets you excited. the look in his eyes makes you anxious. "you always want it to go as quick as possible." you're looking straight into his eyes but you know his cock is probably so hard and weepy in his palm.

"you never let me savor it." when he spreads your legs apart you know he's got it out for you.

he slides his dick, clad against your clit. the tip sends shivers through you, and you can feel yourself clench harshly. you're biting your lip as you stare in anticipation at the sight in front of you. back and forth and back and forth. your legs are shaking already and he's not even inside yet. it's like he knows exactly how to get you going. every time he glides over your clit it brings you a step closer to an orgasm. you can see precum pooling on his tip as he grinds against you.

you’re embarrassed that you’re already so close. you feel pathetic when you cum as he replaces his dick with his nimble fingers. when they rub at your clit with precision, you feel a gush of arousal coat his fingers. your eyes are closed shut as a throaty moan exits your opened mouth. your head drops back into the bed as you fail to compose yourself. when you try to close your shaky legs, he slides a hand against the back of your thigh, cupping the underside of your knee.

he gently keeps you from shutting him out. "see, i know you like it better this way. why do you always deny it?" he says, matter-of-factly. you're at a loss for words, mind still overblown with leaky pleasure. when you can't muster a response to him he smiles, lovingly. "ok, i'm sorry.” his hand rubs circles over your outer thigh as his free hand palms his cock. “i'm putting it in now."

you can feel the heaviness of his cock resting against you when he says that.

the initial push is slow and brutal. the tip spreads you open so nicely. as he gets deeper and deeper your face contorts in pleasure. when his hips finally bottom out you can see the way his self restraint starts to diminish as you clench around him.

"you act like you want to run away from this, but your body never wants to let go of me."

when you open your eyes slightly you notice that his are laser focused on where your sex meets. he moves at first in shallow thrusts. this way you can really feel it when he hits that one overly sensitive place. he notices it right away from the way your body tenses up. you hate how observant he is because now he's guiding his cock with his hand to really grind into your g-spot.

you swallow thickly at the feeling. when he starts rubbing your clit you curse yourself for letting him unravel you this easily. when he sees how much of a mess you are underneath him xavier dips his head into the crook of your neck.

"i know you're indifferent, but you always let me do whatever i want to you without complaints. i like that about you, among everything else."

he whispers lasciviously into your ear, igniting a spark in deep in your shivering core. you make a poignant face at him when he lifts his head before kissing him. it's sweet and needy. it's exactly the kind of kiss you hate to initiate. it makes you look weak, but you suppose that xavier's not the only one with a secret, contrasting side to them.

he pulls back to cup your face, still thrusting in and out of you with precise vigor. you lean to the side to kiss the palm of his hand, earning a soft groan from xavier's swollen lips. he pulls his hand away, cautiously as if nearing the jaws of a carnal predator.

you follow his movements and your eyes light up when he places two fingers on your tongue. you quickly envelope them with your wanting mouth. bobbing your head and sucking at them as if they were his cock. you watch in delight as his lips curve into a circle as he drinks it all in. "you're not playing fair." he says breathlessly. he quickly yanks his hand back, sticking his own fingers in his mouth. you watch entranced as his cheeks hollow out as he sucks your spit from his fingers. "you're sick." you say, a genuine smile creeping onto your lips.

xavier scowls in obvious embarrassment. he firmly plants his hands under your knees, spreading you wider as he leans in close. "it's your fault." he says lowly. at this new angle you can really feel the fullness of his cock plunging in and out of you. the wet,clicky sound of xavier fucking you fills your ears along with his frequent, airy moans. "does it feel good?" he asks, his voice is shaky and lighter than usual. it makes your face hot and tingly. it makes your head hazy and unnavigable.

your lack of a quick response only annoys xavier. he wants to hear it from you just how worked up he's got you. you gasp sharply when he mounts you fully. the girth of his cock stretches you out and though it burns you find yourself moaning louder. it's music to his ears. each moan includes a frantic babble of his name and a broken sound which he can tell is signaling your release.

the soft sound of skin on skin is somehow egging you on. you can't help but want to be fuller, more cognizant of his dick. to feel him everywhere across your skin in burning hotspots, forming mountains, geysers, earthquakes all like across your trembling body. you think about the food still on the dinner table and your wet footprints on his bathroom floor. there's probably strands of your hair entwined together on the walls of the shower and your fingerprints cover every surface of the apartment. was that the totality you craved? you weren't sure.

the only thing you were really sure about was that xavier was hitting all the right spots at all the right angles and you were falling apart in his hands. the worst part was that he knew it too. the way you felt around him. you didn't need to say anything. not a word. without even really thinking about it xavier finds his fingers on your clit again, coaxing you through it. "-m, i'm cu-" you start to babble, "i know. go ahead. for me." he can barely get out that last part. you're gushing around him keeping your eyes barely open just enough to gaze at him. he can't help but smile at you.

he can't look away from you. he just knows that this is how it's supposed to be. you, in his bed, cumming your brains out all over his cock. that's normal to him. or at least he's working on feeling normal about you.

"fuck, xavier. you feel so good." you whimper as you come down from your orgasm thoughts are pooling in your head. you start to put it together just how good he is. you're intimidated by the fact that he's amazing in every aspect of his life. you're drawn by how magnificent he appears to be compared to the masses. you're watching his expression as he cums. you memorize his eyes, his flushed cheeks, and the ever-changing shape of his mouth as he releases more cum inside you.

you can feel his cock flutter and twitch. you're shocked and enamored at how hard he's cumming. he can't speak or even form a coherent thought. he can only muster out a symphony of pathetic moans before he practically collapses on top of you. his head falls next to yours. the weight of him is soothing you as you keen in on his breaths, matching your own pattern to his.

"can i stay the night?" you whisper breathlessly, the growing smile on your face translating to your words. xavier says nothing, his face still adjacent to the satin sheets. he simply buries his head into your neck, slithering his arms underneath you. he holds you tightly, paralyzing you in his grasp, before he puts the blanket of the two of you.

[runnning-outof-time]

The Brother That Always Wins | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by @kpopgirlbtssvt

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader, with hints of John Shelby and Arthur Shelby trying their hand at flirting with the reader

Summary: (Y/N) is oblivious to the fact that three of the most powerful men in Birmingham are interested in her. When it's all said and done though, the brother that always wins, wins.

Warnings: language, drinking, terribly written flirting

Word Count: 4350

A/N: this story turned into an absolute ride, one that I enjoyed much more than I thought I would. It’s a bit of controlled chaos…I hope you’re ready for it. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message Me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

"The fuck are you grinnin' for?" John Shelby asked as soon as his brother, Arthur entered the snug. He couldn't help himself, his older sibling's grin was able to be seen from a mile away.

"I just helped the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen in me life," Arthur proudly answered, his chest jutting out slightly as he spoke.

"Helped in what way, eh?" Tommy questioned, his one eyebrow raised. He'd been reading the newspaper and keeping to himself, only half-listening as John talked away about whatever, but he couldn't deny that he was interested in what Arthur had to say.

"I bet you he just stood there and gawked at her!" John chimed in before Arthur could respond, a smug grin on his face.

"I did not!" Arthur snapped back at his younger sibling, sending a glare his way, "I had a bloody conversation with her and all!"

"What happened?" Tommy asked another question, slowly losing his patience as he waited.

"So she was walkin' with a box, right? A big ass box...one that's too big for a lady like her to be carryin’. But she was walkin' with it. And so I was watchin' her from across the road, because she was goin' the same way I was. We must've walked for some time, how long I don't remember. Anyways, she gets to this one stretch and she trips...loses her fuckin' balance or something. All of the things in the box go flyin'. So I did what any man does and ran 'cross the street to help her. We put all the shit back into the box and then when she looked up at me, I thought I was gonna die on the spot. She was so fuckin' beautiful, lads. Shy, and sweet, and just fuckin'...gorgeous. I swear to you that if she would've..."

"Get on with the story, Arthur," Tommy interjected into Arthur's tangent, making him snap out of the attraction-riddled daze that he was quickly slipping into.

"Yeah, right," Arthur nodded, shaking his head slightly as he tried to recall where he was. "She was actin' so shy and thankin' me for helpin' her clean the stuff up that I couldn't but just be, fuckin'..."

"Arthur," Tommy said in a warning tone.

"I'm gettin' on with it," he brushed his brother off before continuing, "I couldn't help but not want to leave her. So I asked her where she was goin' and she said to the school. That was out of my way, but I didn't fuckin' care. I carried her things to the school she went on with thankin' me again. She was so fuckin' gorgeous and...shit, boys, I think I might be in love," he finished up his story, continuing on with it despite the scoffs or stiffled laughter coming from his brothers.

"You said she was going to the school?" John asked a question once it was clear that Arthur was finished with his story.

"Yeah...she's a fuckin' teacher, mate. Even better," Arthur grinned.

"Did you get her name?" John asked another question.

"Course I did!" Arthur responded like it was obvious.

Silence fell in the snug then, the three men looking between each other. John waited on bated breath for a few moments before it became obvious that Arthur wasn't going to say it without being prompted. "What was it?"

"(Y/N), I think it was," Arthur recalled, his answer making John choke out a weird sound, one that seemed to be a mixture of a scoff and a laugh. "What?"

"She's Katie's fuckin' teacher, mate!" John exclaimed, his declaration making Arthur's eyes widen. "She is fuckin' gorgeous, I'll tell you that," he then agreed with Arthur, a wide grin now plastered across his face.

John and Arthur then went about talking about her after Arthur prompted his younger sibling to tell him all that he knew about her. Tommy sat in his chair, half reading the paper and half listening to their conversation. He couldn't deny that he was intrigued by his brothers' stories, and everything they said about her made him want to go and meet her for himself even more.

"Can I help you?" (Y/N) (Y/L/N) asked the man that she swore appeared in her doorway out of nowhere. He was dressed in an expensive looking three-piece suit with an equally as expensive looking overcoat over top of it, as well as a peaked cap atop his head.

"I'm looking for (Y/N)," the man answered.

"You found her," (Y/N) smiled, setting her book down on the desk to give the man her full attention. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"I was directed to you by the front office. They said you're in charge of the donations?"

"That depends...if you're looking to donate to the building, you'll need to speak with our headmaster, but if you're looking to donate directly to the children, you can speak to me," she explained with a smile. She was proud to have been named the head of the board that made sure the children in the school had the tools they needed in order to thrive in the learning environment.

"I'm looking to donate to the children."

"Then you're in the right place," she chirped, "you can come over here and we'll get into the details of it," she said then, waving him over to her desk.

He finally entered the room, and as he walked over, (Y/N) felt the commanding aura that swirled around him. It wasn't one that made her scared, but rather one that filled her with intrigue.

"Can I have the name for the donation?" she asked once she had a piece of paper and a pencil ready.

"It's Thomas Shelby," he answered her, watching as realization sparked in her eyes. He couldn't help but think that Arthur was absolutely right - for once in his life...she was absolutely gorgeous.

"Shelby? I have a student whose last name is Shelby."

"Katie?" Tommy questioned, even though he already knew who she was talking about.

"Yes!" (Y/N) happily answered, "Katie's such a lovely girl. Who is she to you?" she couldn't help but ask.

"She's my niece," he shared, his words making her nod in understanding.

"What sort of donation would you like to make, Mr. Shelby?" she asked then, the pencil ready in her hand.

"I'd like to make it so that all of the children in the year you teach have whatever they need to excel in their classes," he answered, speaking in a nonchalant tone.

"Oh...my goodness," she gasped, stopping what she was writing as the weight of his statement finally clicked in her mind.

"Is there a problem?"

"No, it's just that..." she trailed off, unable to put her thoughts properly into words, "no one has made such a generous donation before."

"I like to make sure that others benefit from the wealth I've gained," he told her in an assured tone. Well that was one of the reasons why he'd made such a donation.

"I...uh, goodness, I don't even know where to start," she confessed, still genuinely baffled by his generosity. "Usually I'd go through with the person donating and we'd make a list of where the funds can be allocated, but with your overwhelming donation, I'm not sure I know what to do first," she added, a sheepish smile present on her face when she looked up at him again.

"It's nothing you'd need to have done in a hurry," he told her, showing that he wasn't upset by her unsuredness.

"I'd hate to waste your time now and make you wait..." she trailed off, biting on the end of the pencil as she tried to think of some ways his funds could be used.

Spending time with you would not be time wasted, Tommy thought to himself just as an idea came to mind: "what if we go for dinner at the end of the week? You can have time to think of ideas and you'll share them with me then," he proposed, his eyebrows raising slightly as he awaited her response.

(Y/N) took a moment to think about his proposition. It'd certainly be a good idea for her to have more time to think about it, and she couldn't say that she'd be opposed to having dinner with this man. "Dinner sounds nice," she gave her answer after a few moments had passed, "I'll come prepared with good ideas," she assured him with a smile.

"I'm sure whatever ideas you'll bring will interest me," Tommy told her, nodding once before he took a step back towards the door.

"Thank you, Mr. Shelby. It's a great pleasure to have you working with us," (Y/N) smiled, still truly overwhelmed by his generosity.

"The pleasure's mine, (Y/N)," he couldn't help but let a smile break onto his lips as he looked over her one last time. They said their goodbyes then, and Tommy exited the school. He was genuinely pleased with the fact that she'd agreed to have dinner with him. It was certainly a step in the right direction with her.

John Shelby entered the school that his children attended two days after his brother did. He was unsuccessful in finding someone who could help direct him to the room he wanted to visit, but thankfully found the woman he was looking for as she walked towards the main doors from down a hallway.

"Miss (Y/L/N)!" he called to her, hoping to get her attention.

To his luck, she heard him. "Can I help you?" she asked with a smile, one that made John feel like he was going to go weak at the knees.

"Yes. You're my daughter's teacher. Her name's Katie Shelby. I wanted to ask how she's been doing in class," he told her the reason behind him being there. Truthfully he couldn't care less about Katie's performance. School wasn't something he was ever interested in, but if it meant he'd be able to talk to an utterly gorgeous woman, he'd give the performance of the century.

"Oh Katie!" (Y/N) answered, her smile growing wider as she recalled one of her students, "she's amazing...such a pleasure to have in class. She's always working hard and staying on top of her assignments," she then gave him a run down on his daughter's performance.

John nodded as she spoke. He had no shame in the fact that he was only half listening to her answer; being too preoccupied with drinking in her appearance. Silence fell between them then as that topic of conversation passed quickly. John didn't want her to leave just yet, so he scrambled for another talking point. "I heard that you met my brother, Arthur, the other day," he said then. It wasn't his best choice of topic, but he hoped it would keep her around. His hopes fell when a look of confusion formed on her pretty face. Shit, John...save yourself here! "He, uh...he told me that he helped you with one of your boxes...?" he ended his statement like it was a question, hoping that she'd show some sort of recollection.

Realization did appear on her face, but the sentence that accompanied it was one that left John confused: "oh...it seems I've met two of your brothers," she informed him, effectively making him wear the same expression she had moments ago. She took the time to explain then: "Thomas came in a few days ago to arrange a generous donation to aid the children who come here."

Fucks sake. John couldn't help but sigh internally. Tommy had already sunk his paws into the territory John thought he'd have a leg up in. "Oh he did?" he decided to play it cool, hoping that his aggravation didn't bubble up to the surface.

"He did. The other teachers and I are all so thankful for the contribution," (Y/N) answered, her smile telling John that he was doing well at masking how he was really feeling.

"Well I'm happy to hear that," John stated, running a hand over his face as he tried to think of a way to divert the conversation away from Tommy. "I can't say enough how happy I am that my daughter has a wonderful, smart, caring teacher like yourself," he said then, deciding to go the compliment route. There were many other things he wanted to include while referring to her, but he didn't want to overdo it.

"Awe thank you, Mr. Shelby. As I've said before, Katie is such a pleasure to have in class," (Y/N) accepted the compliment with grace, a bashful smile forming on her face.

Silence fell around them for a few beats before John spoke again: "you're probably wantin' to get home, so I should probably go," he stated, nodding his head back towards the main doors of the school.

"Oh yes, it's certainly been a long day," she answered with a nod.

"I'll see you around sometime then," John began to say his goodbyes.

"You certainly will," (Y/N) sent him one last smile before John turned and exited the school.

John was thankful to see the majority of his family sitting around the main table of the betting shop when he entered it that evening.

"Where've you been, John Boy?" Arthur asked, everyone's eyes following John as he made his way to an open chair.

"I just left the school," John answered, his face straight as he spoke.

"The school?" Arthur questioned.

"Something happen with one of the children?" Polly asked, her brows furrowed.

"No, everything's fine with them," John quelled her concern.

"Why were you at the school then?" Polly asked another question.

"Ah I know...you were tryin' to see the hot teacher, huh?" Arthur chimed in before John could answer, a grin now present on his face.

John shot a glare in his brother's direction, slightly annoyed by the fact that he was a little too anxious to know. But with all of the eyes in the room on him, he figured he may as well give up. "Yeah, I went to see her."

"Did ya talk to her?" Arthur eagerly asked.

John didn't miss Polly's eyeroll before he answered his brother: "yeah, I did...and I was told that Tommy already went and talked to her." He couldn't help but glance at Tommy from the corner of his eye, seeing if his statement roused any type of reaction from him.

"Why would you have gone to talk to the childrens' teacher, Thomas?" Polly was the one to ask, her eyes now zeroed in on him.

"She told me that he wanted to make a donation to the school," John offered more information, a sour tone still present in his voice.

"Tommy," Polly sighed, bringing her hand up to her forehead.

"We've arranged to have dinner one of these upcoming evenings to discuss it further," Tommy nonchalantly shared more details of his meeting with (Y/N).

"Bloody hell, Tommy," Arthur grumbled, a frown on his face as he shook his head. He'd have no chance in hell with her now.

"Why was this not brought up in a family meeting?" Polly asked a sensible question, seemingly unaware of the brothers' reason behind their responses.

"Because I have decided that we need to start putting back into the city," Tommy answered, an authoritative tone laced into his voice.

"And you thought that the school would be the most logical place to start?" she quirked an eyebrow.

"Why not?"

"You're putting yourself into places you shouldn't be...if this blows up in your face, I won't be here for it," Polly spoke in a firm tone, showing her distaste for his decision.

Tommy held his gaze on her, an uninterested look present in his eyes. He didn't quite care what his aunt had to say about this, he was going to continue on how he saw fit.

Polly held his gaze, waiting for him to say something. When he didn't, she rolled her eyes and let out a scoff before turning and stalking over to the door. She stopped before she could grab the handle, abruptly turning to look at the three men sitting at the table. "If any of you make her cry or so much as hurt a single strand of hair on her head..." she paused, pursing her lips as she shook her head slightly, "you will have hell to pay." Her voice was flat, but her tone was serious, and she let no one respond before she opened the door and exited the betting shop.

"Ms. Gray, it's so nice to see you again," (Y/N) said with a smile as she found the older woman standing in the doorway of her classroom. "Is everything ok with Katie? We missed her in class today."

"Katie's fine," Polly quelled the teacher's worry, "she was feeling ill so she stayed home."

"Oh, ok. I hope she gets better soon," (Y/N) offered her regards with a smile, one that Polly reciprocated. "Is there something that you need?"

"Yes," Polly didn't beat around the bush, "my nephew, Tommy, came to speak with you the other day..." she began, trailing off in hopes that (Y/N) would continue.

"Yes, he did!" she took the bait without question, "he made a very generous donation, and then suggested we have dinner to work the smaller points of it out."

"And how did that go?" Polly asked with raised eyebrows.

"Very well," (Y/N) smiled in response, "the children are already benefiting from the money he's given. It was very kind of him to do this."

Nothing Tommy Shelby has done was done just for the sake of 'being kind', Polly thought to herself as she mentally scoffed at the younger woman's statement. "I'm happy to hear that the children are benefitting from it," Polly said in response, keeping her thoughts on her nephew's intentions to herself.

(Y/N) smiled in response, completely overjoyed by the kindness of the Shelby family that she was oblivious to even the mere thought of Tommy having other intentions behind his decision to donate. Nothing else was said then as the women exchanged parting words.

(Y/N) smoothed out her dress as she reached the doors of the establishment. She hoped that the outfit she chose didn't make her over, or under, dressed for the occasion. With a deep breath, she grabbed the handle and opened the door, the sounds of chatter and music smacking her in the face. She entered the pub with a smile, hoping to quickly find a familiar face.

Of course one of the Shelbys quickly found her at the door. It was their re-opening party after all, and a beautiful woman like (Y/N) was most certainly not going to go unnoticed.

"Oi, you came!" Arthur was the first of the brothers to spot her, and a big grin was plastered across his face as he moved over to greet her.

"Yes! This place looks lovely!" she answered, smiling as she looked around the room.

"We made sure to get the best of the best," he boasted, his grin still present. "And speakin' of the best...can I offer one of the best women I've seen a drink?" he smoothly transitioned, his one eyebrow raised as he looked at her.

"I'd love one, thank you," she answered, smiling at his kindness.

"Come on then," he stated, offering her his arm so that he could lead her to the bar.

She accepted it, walking over to an open seat so that he could go around the bar and get her a drink. She thanked him again when he set it down in front of her, and just as he leaned up against the bar, ready to chat with her, Isiah came to him with a matter of business. He left her with a slight frown and an 'excuse me, love,' before going off with the younger man. (Y/N) sat by herself, sipping her drink and enjoying the revelry around her. She wasn't alone for long though.

"(Y/N) (Y/L/N)...I didn't think I'd see you here," shock was present in John Shelby's voice as he came up beside her.

"I decided to stop in and see what all of the talk was about," she smiled at him.

"Well we're certainly happy to have you here," he grinned at her, trying so hard not to give her a once over. "Say why don't you come and share a dance with me?" he suggested.

"Oh, I couldn't," she turned down his offer, her shyness creeping in.

"Come on...a quick dance wouldn't hurt," he didn't quite give up hope.

"I'm rather terrible at dancing."

"You've not seen me dance then."

(Y/N) bit her lip to conceal her giggles, surprised with how forward he was.

"Come on..." John coaxed her, hand outstretched in her direction. She was hesitant, but accepted it, allowing him to lead her to the floor. "Just follow my lead and you'll be fine," he said, assuming the position before he began to lead her in a similar dance to what the other partygoers were doing.

(Y/N) couldn't help but smile as she danced around the floor with John. She certainly was having fun, not really thinking about what she looked like or what others thought. John couldn't believe that he was dancing with one of the most beautiful women in the room.

They danced for about two songs before (Y/N) excused herself, wanting to go have a seat. John allowed her to go, deciding that he'd go into the snug and check on Finn - who he knew was sneaking stronger drinks than what his brothers originally told him he could have.

(Y/N) found a newly opened seat at the bar as soon as she came to it. She was bummed that her drink had been lost, but she didn't need to worry about that for too long.

"You made it," Tommy Shelby's voice came from her left, making her turn slightly to see him approaching her from behind the bar.

"I did, thanks for inviting me," (Y/N) smiled at him, "this party's amazing!" she commented, glancing around the room.

"It is," Tommy agreed once she focused on him again, "can I get you something to drink?"

"Please," she smiled kindly at the offer, watching as he went about grabbing a bottle from the shelf. "I wanted to also thank you, again, for the dinner and the donation. The children have already gotten some of the supplies that we've received, and they're loving them," she shared some information once he came back with a glass for her.

"That's good news," he nodded, taking a drink from his glass then. "You know I was thinking maybe...maybe you and I could have dinner again, without the need to talk about the donations this time," he proposed, watching her intently as he waited for a response.

(Y/N) couldn't stop her eyes from lighting up at his suggestion. She had a lovely time with him at their first dinner. "I'd like that," she answered with a smile.

"Figured we could get to know each other better."

"That would be lovely," she agreed, giggling slightly at the fact that he was practically reading her mind.

The two then went about planning the dinner, agreeing on a time and place. (Y/N) couldn't help but feel giddy when he suggested a restaurant that was far more classy than the first place they'd met. If she wasn't excited before...she certainly was now.

As they spoke more, Polly Gray kept a close eye on them from across the room. She'd been watching the brothers all evening as they tried their hand at her. It became clear to her, though, that Tommy had ended out on top as she watched them converse at the bar. She could easily tell from how (Y/N) was invested in their conversation, giggling and leaning closer to him when he'd speak, that what he was doing was being received well. John and Arthur wouldn't have much of a chance now.

-One Year Later-

Slowly, Tommy lifted the veil up to reveal (Y/N)'s smiling face. He draped it over her head and let his eyes dance across her features, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he felt the joy radiating from her.

"We are gathered here today to witness the marriage of (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) and Thomas Michael Shelby," the officiant began, commanding the attention of everyone in the church.

Ever since the evening of the party at the Garrison, (Y/N) and Tommy found themselves wrapped up in a whirlwind of a romance. Tommy proposed after five months of them being together, knowing that he wasn't going to find another woman like her. They spent five months being engaged and doing a great amount of traveling - it was the summer holiday for (Y/N), so she was able to follow Tommy wherever he went. Now they were standing at the altar in front of a great number of guests who were anxiously waiting to see them pronounce their love for each other.

Well...two of the guests weren’t exactly anxious. John and Arthur sat on Tommy's side of the church, watching as the ceremony commenced. Both were happy for their brother, but they'd be lying if they said that they weren't bummed that it wasn't them up with (Y/N).

Everyone stood up and celebrated as the officiant pronounced Tommy and (Y/N) 'man and wife', and they shared their first kiss as a married couple.

"As always..." John started, elbowing Arthur in the ribcage as they both clapped for their brother, "Tommy gets the girl, and we've gotta sit back and watch."

Arthur couldn't help but snort as he heard what John had to say. "You're right, John boy," he agreed, shaking his head but nonetheless continuing clapping.

No matter what happened, or how hard John and Arthur tried to get ahead, Tommy would forever be the brother that always wins.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

[torawro]

royal knight!caleb & princess!reader.

cw ━━ ! minors, ageless, and blank blogs DO NOT INTERACT. reader is written / portrayed as a curvy, thick black woman but you do not have to imagine it that way ! anyone and everyone is welcome to read <3. historical / medieval au so there will be use of language & rhetoric relative to that era ( i.e., aye = yes or indeed . . . . i did my best doing research ). caleb is a high ranking knight in the kingdom they live in and is referred to as 'sir' because of his status. reader is a princess of royal status. mentions / descriptions of blood and injuries, and contains violence sprinkled with a little bit of gore (???). depictions of murder / character death. a liiittleeee bit of religious imagery & references, not sure but adding it just in case. hints at caleb having psychological issues and / or mental instability. kind of yandere(ish) behavior if you squint; caleb is obsessed with & in love with the reader. he is also a wee bit condescending ( not to reader ). instances of caressing ( groping? ) and slow, sweet kisses. veryyy subtle manipulation (?) via intentional omission of the truth. sorry if im exaggerating with these tags lol. directly based off this post i saw a few weeks ago. i tried my best to proofread at 1am pls excuse any errors. let me know if i missed anything!

word count ━━ ! 3.9k

notes ━━ ! man…..🚬🚬🚬 i can’t believe i wrote this lmaaaoooooooooo like what. where did this come from even.....anyway hi everyone i’m back with another (short-ish) fic <3 my apologies it's been another two months since my last published work, you know what it is: it takes longer for me to put things out and i wanna make sure i put my best foot forward every time >< but whoop whoop here's to my second fic of the year! as u can see i have gotten into lads during this past month and some change....... and i swear, i really had no intention of writing for any of the guys any time soon, let alone the newest one..... i took a pause from working on my longer projects to write this LMFAOOOO. i honestly thought that if i really did have a burning desire to write about them, my first lads fic would have been about sylus cause he.....anyway i won't go on a tangent about him, but i sincerely hope u guys enjoy this one!!!!!! obviously this is my first time writing for any lads character so pls be kind to me. i also want to apologize if this characterization of caleb is weird or ooc, i haven't unlocked him yet but i have seen a lot of content of his story in relation to the mc, his lore, his voicelines, etc so i hope i did him justice!! reblogs + commentary are HEAVILY appreciated ♡♡♡.

THE SKY REMAINED DARK, BUT a deep navy hue began to seep into the heavens, soon giving way to the dawn; the early hours of the morning was nigh. The castle was silent— obviously, but still eerily so despite the hour. There was a draft that seeped through the miscellaneous cracks of the stone, the shutters, and the windows of the castle that had not been properly shut, and the brisk breeze that flowed inside caressed the walls with a whisper— quiet but forceful enough to sway the small flames of the candles. The unsteady flickering of the flames grazed and dimly illuminated the walls behind them. Upon its surface were fresh stains, which would permanently seep into the stone if not cleaned in time. The stains were red.

It was blood.

In the many corridors of the castle was a figure, trudging through the halls like a corpse that had risen from its resting place, exhaustion weighing down his every step down to the marrow of his bones. He was injured— not gravely enough to make him lose consciousness but enough to reopen the wounds he so haphazardly patched himself before returning to the kingdom.

His chambers in the keep, along with all the other higher-ranked Knights, was on the other side of the castle grounds. He should have made a left the moment the portcullis closed behind his heels so he could at least get patched up again, get some water, and something else for the pain. Instead, the soldier walked straight ahead, onward to the main structure of the castle, down the stretches of its veins, up the stairs– a path he had memorized after spending many a moon traversing it, sometimes without your knowledge.

But he needed to see you, and he was unsure if he would be able to wait until the sun’s ascension in just a few hours time to do so.

The knight was tired, and that slowed him down, but eventually he made it to your private quarters. He made sure to quiet his labored breathing and footsteps as much as he could; the king would have his head before he even made it to your chambers if he were to be discovered.

You laid underneath a thick blanket, the warmth of the fur against your clothed skin protecting you against the brisk cold. As comfortable as you were, however, tonight you had trouble staying asleep. It would greet you kindly, only to slip away from your embrace if you held it too tightly. Your eyelids were half-open, finally on the verge of drifting close again, when an abrupt but muffled thumping noise resounded on the wood of your door.

The sound caused your eyes to snap open with alertness, any waves of sleep that were about to wash over you retreated at the sound. You laid still, absently wondering if you were hearing things, but the noise reverberated in the air again, then three times— it was soft, as if the source of the sound was being careful not to be too loud.

As the sleepiness of the late hours continued to melt away, you began to remember what day it was, and your pulse quickened as a result.

He should have returned today, you thought. But could it be? It cannot possibly…

And yet, that possibility is what tugged your body forward to sit up and straight, and slide your legs out from underneath the layers of blankets. That possibility is what led you to slide your bare feet into your slippers, and move to swing the long, woolen robe on top of your nightgown. That possibility is what pulled you to the thick door of your chambers, and opened it by an inch to peek through the cracks.

The relief and subdued elation you felt when you saw the familiar features of Sir Caleb’s visage on the other side washed over you.

But that feeling faded as quickly as it came when you noticed the state Sir Caleb was in. While it wasn’t abnormal for him to have a deep scratch or a bruise somewhere, he looked . . . worse, somehow. And whatever it was seemed to reach deeper than just his physical injuries.

Without exchanging any words or outwardly questioning him, you carefully— for he winced at nearly every graze of your fingers on certain areas— led him into your room, allowing him to use your body as a crutch. Caleb let out strained puffs of air, both in relief that he didn’t have to carry the weight of his own body alone anymore, and with increasingly dwindling self-restraint. 

He had hardly stepped foot in your bedchambers before; only about four steps past the threshold of the doorway at most, out of fear that his mere presence when he visited in your absence would become a noticeable, tangible thing. Like you’d be able to sense if he ventured too far in for too long, too many times.

Everything smelled like you. Your unique flowery scent was almost palpable with how it clung to every surface of your living space, even the air itself. The contrast between the fleshy softness of your body pressed against the cold, angular ridges of his armor was enough to make his breath catch in his throat and his pulse to miss a beat. 

“M…milady.” Caleb croaked, his throat significantly lacking moisture to the point it almost ached to speak. At this point, the remaining strength in the knight’s body had become completely nonexistent; the sword he didn’t even have the strength to place back in its scabbard tumbled from his loosening grip onto the ground, the sound sharp and uncomfortably punctating. 

“Sir Caleb”, you gasped, your grip tightening on whatever area of his stocky, towering figure you could reach. Both the suddenness of the sound of metal colliding with stone and your delayed realization of how serious his injuries were pulled your nerves all the more taut, the worried furrow in your brow growing more prominent.

Caleb’s legs gave out next, all while his heavier form still partially hung from your sleep laden frame. His arm slipped from around your shoulder as he descended to his knees, the movement clumsy enough to slightly throw you off your balance. The room was still dark enough that you did not readily see nor notice the blood that now permeated the folds of your nightdress. 

The honorable knight— who did not quite look so on his knees like this— absentmindedly grasped at your calves, pulling another surprised noise from the back of your throat. It was as if making physical contact with you would steady his mind that swirled endlessly with fragmented thoughts, stained with the dark horrors that crawled from the depths of his subconscious, and keep him tethered to the plane of consciousness. The blood loss would soon catch up to him.

Silence descended upon your room, save for Caleb’s ragged breathing and your quiet, frayed inhales. He still held onto your lower legs like it was his lifeline, the mesh underside of his metal gauntlets sending a subtle shiver with each miniscule movement he made, but you did your best to silence any hitch in your breath or twitch in your muscles. Worry still festered underneath your skin, so much so that you were afraid if you moved, or even spoke, that Caleb might fall apart at your feet, considering his current state. 

“Milady…” Caleb tried again, his voice still rough but a muted veneration was present underneath his words, as if your title was the beginning of a prayer. It was a thought that spurred another shudder to crawl across your flesh. “Milady, I have returned. The war with the kingdom to the east—Havencroft—  is over now.”

The knight turned his head slightly so that his cheek was resting on the fat of your thigh, your nightdress being the only barrier between his skin and yours. Another stain of crimson leapt from the side of his face that rested on your leg to your clothes, but you could not see it from this angle. Caleb almost resembled a wounded animal, marking the territory that was once his after enduring an attack– not much for your sake, but purely for his own, as a reminder of sorts.

Even through the linen, you could feel the uneven puffs of warm air from his mouth fan across that small area on your thigh. Like a magnet attracted to a metal of the opposite affinity— a force yet to be explained or explored— your palm gravitated towards the knight’s armored shoulder. Whether it was an action of acknowledgement and commendation, to silently urge him off his knees, or as a means to steel yourself was unclear even to you.

“The enemies… have been defeated.” Each syllable felt delayed, each word tumbled from Caleb’s lips like a wispy trail of smoke from burning incense, and the casual hold you had on his steel shoulder imperceptibly tightened when you felt his gloved hands trail up the back of your legs. His movements were slow—almost reluctant and experimental— but deeply rooted in reverence, as if this was the first and last time he would be able to touch you so boldly.

The knight below knew better. He was well aware that his actions more than just bordered on bold, they fully reveled in it– embraced it, even. But he was having a significant amount of  trouble caring enough to stop himself. It was always a difficult task reasoning with the thing that resided in the folds of his unconscious— especially and specifically when it came to you. 

Caleb awaited you to halt the soft caress of his palms, either verbally or by action, but neither came. You were rendered silent, breath slightly restrained as you stared down at him from on high, your palm still resting upon his armor. A part of you was swayed by the currents of curiosity to see what he’d do next, just to see what might happen you allowed this moment to persist a bit longer. 

And the other part…might have enjoyed this. It might have enjoyed the sight, the sound, the sensation of his iron skin, the subtle yet unknown metallic aroma that washed over your senses, mixed with his signature musk.

So he resumed, both his movements and his speech, which were languid and slowed. “Those that wished… to do harm to the kingdom, to you…They have been slain.”

The way his head shifted against your leg was like a cat nuzzling itself against its human companion. The weight of his body pressed upon you like this was even a bit endearing, and it began to melt your heart. Caleb’s hands glided from the backs of your knees down to the base of your ankles, only to carefully ascend back up the valleys and shores of your legs. In his ascent the hem of your dress got caught in between the gaps of his fingers, causing it to steadily rise like a curtain and expose the bare, supple brown skin hiding beneath it. 

His touch was so gentle, like dragging the sharpened edge of a knife against one’s skin in fear of accidentally cutting it. As someone who has done so much damage and has scarcely been shown this kind of gentleness, it was a bit jarring to see himself embody it so naturally.  “...The lot of them. I made sure of it.”, he continued, the knight’s noble heart raced so frantically about his chest, he thought it might reverberate and echo against his chest plate if it were to beat any more intensely.

Even with the sizable gauntlets weighing down his hands, Caleb was still able to tell just how delicate and cushiony your flesh was, and he released a barely-there, shaky exhale of his own when his fingers lightly clenched around it. If he didn’t know any better, he might have thought he was on the brink of death and was kneeling before the gates of heaven.

It was nearly impossible for you to distinguish the sensation of the carmine substance being smeared against your bare skin with each inch Caleb caressed, because your nerves had put all its effort into focusing on his breath fanning across your legs and the cold surface of his armor. At some point, the hand laying on his shoulder levitated to rest atop his head instead, the area unadorned without his helmet; a shiver rolled down the knight’s spine at the gesture. Sweat dampened the rich, umber strands of his hair, and the heat radiating from the crown of his head rivaled the one building underneath your face and chest.

“The army of the east kingdom, boasting numbers of over eight-thousand men, have all…. fallen. All of their strongest knights…”

Caleb’s words sounded a bit muffled as his mouth was slightly pressed against your leg, his pillowy lips continued to trail across the expanse of increasingly exposed limbs, “...their battalions, their village militia units…”

By this point, Caleb’s strong sense of rationale, his logical consciousness that usually never steered him wrong had finally caved in on itself. The void that it left in its absence would now be filled and controlled by the iniquitous thoughts that plagued him day in and day out. Such immoral, perhaps unhealthy, thoughts that always had you at the front and center of it all.

“...Even the gentry. Witnessing them …attempting to wield a polearm was almost pathetic. I would have pitied them, but one way or another, they would have attempted to harm you and our kingdom in some way, at some point…” 

There was a brief pause, the surface of his parted lips and that of his artificial armor took turns savoring the feel and smell of you, even being so brash as to place tender almost-kisses across your thigh. You gasped silently at that, and the reflexive clench of your fingers in the tufts of his hair brought forth something of a purr that vibrated in the back of his throat. Embedded within that imperceptible purr in his deep voice lurked something more dangerous you did not notice— sharp, like having a dagger pressed against one’s jugular.

“And I cannot allow that.” 

Caleb continued to murmur about his achievements of war into your chestnut-tinted skin as if he were talking directly into it and not you— as if it were actively listening. And with the way your nerves sparked and crackled with each syllable he pronounced, you could easily become convinced that it was.

Aye, he could not even pretend to spare an ounce of compassion for Havencroft’s  gentrymen, or their local militia, their skilled battalions and armies, nor their most honorable knights. Not after their plans and intentions were discussed amongst the king’s council just months prior, which served as the reason why he and the rest of the kingdom’s army were dispatched there in the first place.

Swine, the lot of them.

The same could be said for his own king’s council members— your father’s most trusted political companions and advisors— that had the gall to speak ill of and scheme against the king and his realm.

The balls to speak ill of you when they believed there were no listening ears around; about how your future ascent to the throne would be this kingdom’s downfall, about how His and Her Majesty should have tried for more children in hopes of a young lad.

He could only thank the gods that he returned from his knightly travels when he did, for the dark-haired soldier knew within seconds of overhearing such idiotic arrogance what his next course of action should be.

Like some kind of cunning animal whose only purpose was to hunt and kill, Sir Caleb watched and waited for the opportune moment to present itself before closing in to strike. And that moment arrived when he realized the two men were making their way to the western-most side of the main castle, where the kitchen and laundry rooms were located. He sneered at how clever they thought they were being, choosing that specific place because they were aware most of the help and servants had retired for the evening.

Without a moment’s hesitation, when he had heard enough drivel, he attacked, administering two swift but fatal slashes to their vital points— one for each man. The pain from moving like that when his injuries had been previously reopened nearly caused his legs to buckle, but he remained steady and quick. This had to be quick, for it would be troublesome if they made noise or if he was too sloppy with his timing and execution. Blood splattered on the nearby walls from the sheer force of his swing, the blade cutting through the councilmen like a cleaver cutting through a slab of tender meat. He made a note to himself to come back and clean any remnants that remained later.

The councilmen fell to their knees, staring and cowering from Sir Caleb in confusion, shock, and unadulterated fear at the realization that their lives might end that very night, and that someone might have heard them.

Surely they blathered on in hushed voices, demanding to know the meaning behind his actions, begging for the knight to spare their lives, frantically questioning him if he had heard them say anything particularly controversial. But Caleb paid no mind and did not bother responding. All he did was stare at them, his eyes as empty as a weathered piece of parchment with no ink on it, his salmon-colored lips resting in a straight line that spoke nothing of his true thoughts. 

Caleb’s gaze alone deeply unsettled them, for they had never seen him look like that before.

On his honor as a knight, Caleb would die before he let any harm— relative or distant, real or perceived, indirect or direct— fall upon you if it was in his power to prevent it. Because not only did he pledge his allegiance to the ruler of this land, but to you as well. And in performing his obligatory duties as a knight— guarding you from near and far, being graced with your kindness, your wit, your smile—it was inevitable that he would fall in love with you at some point along the way. 

And wasn’t it a good thing, a true virtuous thing, a normal thing to do what you can for the one they loved? To keep them safe?

And so, with that resolve embedded in his heart, the knight Sir Caleb would do what he could, and did what he must when the steel of his blade at last collided with the mens’ uvula. The last thing those so-called loyal councilmen saw was his void eyes, and the slightest upturn in the corner of his lip.

But you need not worry or be privy to the gritty details. All you needed to know was that he fulfilled his duty in protecting you, in protecting this kingdom you loved dearly and would govern someday. He would see through this role until the day he could no longer.

Aye, you did not need to know that the blood that had now seeped into the fabric of your pretty lilac nightgown and smudged on his face was fresh; you did not need to know that in some other part of this very castle, two people that had been around since your youth had drawn their last breath, never to be seen again; you did not need to know that the faintest hint of guilt and regret for his actions was snuffed out the moment his eyes met your visage. You did not even need to know of the tender affection that he harbored for you– at least, not yet. A separate time for that should arrive soon, he would pray on it.

And now, all Caleb needed was to hear it from you. That you were proud of him.

“I hope my efforts in battle were satisfactory to you, milady. That my efforts …in keeping your safety and interests of the monarchy at heart pleases you.” 

The knight's lips continued to drag across your skin in a lackadaisical manner, its touch at some point turning into undeniable kisses— pecks so light and fleeting you could have imagined it.

But you weren’t. You knew it to be so because the phantom sensation that was left behind after each one was as real as the ground you stood upon.

You were indeed proud of the knight before you, on his knees revering you with his mouth like you were some kind of holy thing that might disappear into thin air. For all of his years here, you have seen the scrapes, the faded scars on his ungloved hands, a limp in his gait or a straggle in his step, and you felt sympathy for him. You sympathized with him for having to sustain a number of different injuries in the name of your kingdom and its values. But seeing him hurt also inspired a great deal of gratitude within you, and you always made sure to take time at night before you fell asleep to thank the Lord above for uniting your paths– even though the two of you were on slightly different social standings. You secretly hoped that one day, that fact might change.

This is why you had no problem in saying that, “From what you have told me, Sir Caleb, your endeavors in battle are indeed quite….satisfactory to me,” Your words were momentarily interrupted with a sound that sounded suspiciously close to a pleasurable sigh, your fingers absently combing through his hair as you continued to speak, “So I must thank you, for doing your duty so well, and apologize that you were so badly wounded in the name of this kingdom. I truly appreciate all that you do.”

The words of sincere gratitude that spilled from your plush lips only excited the muscle beating wildly in Caleb’s chest, and they were enough to spur his heavy hands to glide higher underneath your gown, moving to the backs of your thighs once again. As his lips persevered in its affectionate assault of your legs, his palms mindlessly cupped the full roundness of your buttocks and gave it a slight squeeze, effectively losing himself in the suppleness of your curved body.

His name, without the proper prefix, was about to fall from your tongue, but you swallowed it down in exchange for something else. “This kingdom is— I am quite fortunate to have someone so capable…so strong and valiant at our disposal. Thank you, Sir Caleb, you have done well.” 

And that was all it took for a quiet groan to be pulled from Caleb’s throat. A part of him hoped you didn’t hear it, he was already behaving so shamelessly.

But another part hoped that you did, so maybe then you’d realize without him having to potentially embarrass himself how much he cared for you, craved you, and impacted him so deeply.

“Thank you, milady. You are too gracious to me. I am unworthy of your praises, but will humbly accept them.” One palm resumed its directionless roaming to map out your lower body while the other remained on buttocks, interrupting his own reply by offering your skin doting, airy kisses in between. His reddish violet eyes were somewhat hooded when his gaze flickered up to look at you once more.

“I will continue to do my utmost…to serve you and your kingdom.... to the best of my ability.”

( # ) @smiley-babe @ramonathinks @dollwrites @valentineluvu @rinsko . my apologies if u did not want to be tagged. let me know if you want to be tagged in my future works!

[vxxxxed]

I'd love to talk about Butcher!Simon. >u<

He's my favorite fucked up special boy. I like to think he has a set of Damascus knives that he keeps perfectly sharp.

Maybe he sees the reader coming in, buying the cheap stuff, barely talking to the cashier, scared when the package bleeds at the edges. He watches for them again, sending the cashier on break so he could talk to them finally.

Maybe they hand him a crumpled wad of bills. He notices the bruises on their arms. So what if the cut of meat he gives them is worth more than they paid? Can't have his shy birdie going hungry.

Maybe they come home one day to him sitting on their couch. Their abusive partner is gone. The tub is a little pink, but that's okay.

Maybe he reassures them through their tears that he's nothing like the meat he cuts up.

[TWs for idek how to tag this, brief implied cannibalism and kinda mentions of how you'd butcher your lover to eat them but it ends there and none of that actually happens and no one's intending for it to you're just talking about it?]

I was gonna say I don't have anything to add to this but if I may go off on a tangent (excerpt from a fic I'm working on), Ghost who is in the 141, left his old life behind (not like he had a choice when it was all taken from him anyway), but he retained all the stuff he learned when he was younger. You see a couple YouTube shorts from hunters explaining how to cut up their kills, and get interested about the process. And maybe that turns into some sort of weird form of intimacy between the two of you. (Alternative working title: Autism be Damned, That Boy Can Meat)

..."Bloody 'ell, watch the pet names there, luv. I might start thinkin' you fancy me or somethin'," he teased, his voice a low rumble that was honestly weirdly satisfying to listen to now that your cheek was pressed to his sternum. "If you wanna learn about cuts a' meat, might as well 'ave a quick lesson. You got a pen and paper there?" He asked dryly, his own form of humour as he rubbed circles against the back of your neck with his thumb.

"Start with the basics, yeah? Prime cuts are gonna be the tenderest, 'cause they come from the least-worked muscles. Ribeye, sirloin, that sorta thing. Gotta keep 'em cold to preserve the fat, though. You let that melt, and you lose flavour."

As he spoke, Simon's hands moved almost unconsciously, mimicking the motions of breaking down a side of beef. His slightly chilly fingers traced invisible lines across your back, mapping out different sections, trying to remember. "Then you got your secondary cuts - brisket, short ribs, that sorta thing. Tougher, but full o' flavour if you cook 'em right. Need time and low heat to break down all that connective tissue."

He hesitated, eyebrows furrowing slightly as he tried to remember more specifics. "Ah, you got your off-cuts too. Offal, bones, all'at. Nothin' goes to waste in a proper butcher shop. Even got some fancy restaurants that'll pay good money for that stuff nowadays." Another pause, "Well, used to, anyway."

---

"Trying to figure out how you'd butcher me, Simon?" You'd giggled at the feeling of his fingertips tracing your ribs, but there was nothing but trust and love in your eyes.

Like his own perfect little lamb.

[chromecore]

hello friends! i’ve been tagged in a couple things the past few weeks so i wanted to finally get to them uwu

i was first tagged by by @elmknight and @clockworkvenus a little while ago to share the origins of my username. to be honest it’s not the most exciting story but i started yapping and i definitely did a lot more than answer the question but here we are! and then @glassrunner tagged me to fill out this get to know me tag so that will be under the cut as well!

thank you guys for tagging me i love doing these tag games hehe <3

get to know your mutuals and tag 6!

Favorite color: oh i love them all but pink and blue

Last song: i’m gonna assume this means listened to? plan b by megan the stallion u_u

Currently reading: piñata by leopoldo gout. it’s a great read i just have horrible time management skills and am trying to repair my tiktok attention span so it’s taking a while to finish

Currently watching: ted lasso with my partner and pen15 by my lonesome

Currently craving: “whatever life feels like when I'm not burned out lol” <- prev answer honestly a mood but i could also go for some tofu stew

Coffee or tea: matcha when i can afford it but rn coffee because i can’t afford matcha u_u

Last song I sang out loud: mmmm naked in manhattan by chappel roan???

Favorite chip flavor: …takis but don’t judge me i get the trader joe’s ver with no red dye and a mild amount of spice because i’m at the age where my stomach fucking gives out whenever i eat actual takis

Last book I opened: same as my currently reading

Earbuds vs. headphones vs. nothing: i do enjoy headphones a bit more than earbuds but my curly hair can get flattened weird by them sometimes so i guess i use headphones when i’m home and my earbuds when i’m out lol

Last place I went to other than home: my partner’s house

A color that looks good on me: i’ve been struggling a bit with my body image lately so i’ve only really been wearing black lol but i feel like darker colors in general look best on me regardless

Last trailer I saw: mmm i honestly don’t have a clue i want to say the last trailer i watched that kept my full attention was final destination bloodlines lol i know it’s been out for a week or so but i’m not seeing it until this saturday with my siblings *-* honestly pumped

origins of chromecore

i had played cyberpunk for the first time honestly maybe a year or two ago. it was gifted to me by my sibling on the ps4 (I KNOW…) and then on the ps5 after i bought my partner one. first time i played on my pc was march or april i think. i believe i was about halfway through a playthrough with the v that i would later develop into vivienne <333 and i realized in the back of my mind randomly that in all this time i’ve been playing and falling in love with these characters i’d never once checked ao3 for fic. this was my first mistake /j time getting exposed to other people’s ocs and the community and but i was just instantly reminded of my time on deviantart as a kid making silly ocs for the anime i watched with my friends… it made me so nostalgic! not to be dramatic but like tangent time maybe it’s the abusive relationship i was in a while ago but i got all the life and joy and whimsy sucked out of me by this leach of a manchild and i felt like all my interests were childish and stupid. i didn’t do anything but work and take care of an apt for almost two years. i know now that he’s a narcissistic prick that couldn’t handle that i was better than him at everything but he did a lot of damage to my mental health regardless so. it took me a while to unlearn those things. anyways back to the point i was hit in the nostalgia reminiscing but here were all these people still doing what they loved regardless of where they were in their life and i was just like in awe. like wow… i wanna be apart of this…

so ANYWAYS skip forward a little i keep playing my game, but i spent most of my time dicking around in photomode and debating whether or not i wanted to try and return to fandom life. eventually i came across @luvwich and her wonderful novel of a fic (read. it. even if you don’t know anything about cyberpunk she has such a way with words i genuinely am so in love with this fic that i don’t want it to end and have yet to read the last few chapters. i’m insane) and i also came across mike in game for the first time around the same time and it was a wrap. he was kind of the final piece of the puzzle. the final nail on the coffin of my free time if you will. i don’t know i’d managed to go however many playthroughs without meeting mike but i suppose i never realized how many gigs reggie offers you lol but anyways i was in love with his loser ass

i made an ao3 account just to let luvwich know her fic changed my life and after doing some brainstorming and studying of other people’s cyberpunk usns i managed to snag chrome_hearts on ao3 which i thought was such a cool usn. i tried every variation i could on tumblr but apparently it’s a clothing brand or something lol so i eventually settled for chromecore. i do think it has a better ring to it though. the alliteration rolls off the tongue a bit nicer. i was hesitant to start posting but i’m so glad i did because i’ve met sooo many wonderful people and made so many new friends and here we are! my old tv fandom/kpop blog turned video game/personal blog owo

i’ll tag (no pressure of course) @soju-poppi @me-ns @angelsofcode @sixthmagic @weisshapt to do both or just one if you’ve already been tagged or have a preference!! love to get to know some of my newer moots!! annnd @luvwich @elmknight and @clockworkvenus to do the get to know ur mutuals game since i know you guys already did the other one <3 if you waaaant have fun

[tinseltina]

I just saw the tags you added about Sebek and you know what yeah actually

He was so dead pan about like "you and grim are looking pretty appetizing rn"

Like he don't joke like that. He's very serious and the closest he gets to joking is teasing and challenging people to competitions (though even those can become real competitions for him, even if it is dumb)

I still remember how direct his teasing is, since ace's ghost groom vignette. Thanks to Ortho All the first years find out Ace was truthful after he talked all that crap, anyways Sebek tells him to his face that he will have fun mocking him later. (I think they all agree to meet up at ramshackle to watch the video of him and tease him about it after he talked shit, but my memory gets a tad foggy by that point)

Anyways that guy is very very direct, he probably wouldn't joke about that kinda thing.

Hunger clouded mind Sebek.

(part of me thinks he was just being like, unfiltered from getting hungry not in a "oop lol just jokes" way but like "I'm hungry and saying things i don't normally say" kind of way but also maybe this was the random line where you find out Sebek bites people when he's hungry like how trey is weird about teeth and how rook waxes poetics about leona ripping out his throat- which i think Leona heard from his place in the grass and why he walked off with a frown but idk)

Either way it's hilarious, like what do you mean by this Sebek? What? Why would you say that? Floyd and Sebek are the only real biters on campus i guess 😭😂, Leona a wannabe biter i guess 😔

YOU GET IT.

the way my brain went "did a floyd line accidentally get programmed for sebek?" and NOPE, bro is just HUNGRY.

my gosh. and if you imagine he's either the same size, if not bigger, as his canon build then could you imagine a zombie apocalypse with zombek?! he'd mow everyone down, unhinged jaw, and just devouring people

(and no one come for me, i can ABSOLUTELY see Sebek getting bitten and then pulling a "of course I didn't tell anyone! I am too busy protecting Wakasama~! tis but a scratch and nothing will get in my way of serving my lord!" as his skin becomes pallid, dark circles getting worse by the minute, and he's just salivating like a dog, heavily panting. and you just gotta stand there and debate whether or not putting him down now would be worth the risk of alerting more zombies or not, or waiting for him to collapse and then "taking care" of him quietly.

woah that was a fun tangent but also very scary.

BUT I DIGRESS! i think it's also so funny in comparison to leona's more frequent threats to bite or eat people, like, you really can't take him seriously. but it does make me wanna see him and sebek be stuck in proximity long enough to see what would happen

[lambsonburn]

TAG Analysis Ep 1 part 2

Hey guys it’s me again - I was meant to do another analysis much sooner but got distracted after Xmas.

This relates to the first episode - first part is on the characters and second is on little details I noticed.

Analysis is under the cut :)

A few things I want to point out first is the introduction of the characters. They are introduced one by one, which is such a good way to understand who is who particularly to a newer younger audience. Furthermore, the way in which they are introduced further add to their characterisation. We see John as head of communications and responds to calls which, compared to the original, is a much more defined role with him now appearing in every episode. Brains is busy doing technical stuff, Penelope and Parker still have their air of aristocracy which is enhanced by the music. Alan is shown to be the youngest (even though we know he is) through a mission which is basically baby sitting. And Grandma Tracy being a terrible cook is such a funny little addition to the show which really furthers the characters personalities and interactions compared to the original where it was more of a “we must save them” and end it there.

As a little tangent, I would like to say that Kayo being given her own craft is such a good implementation for her character, since in the original as Tin Tin she has a much wider, less defined role and was basically one of the few women Sylvia had managed to put in (which was quite significant since the original was incredibly male heavy). But since Kayo has her own ship, the possibilities for her characters became so much more and I think definitely a character that really helped the series since her personality is much tougher than the brothers. Moreover, having her be such a change from Tin Tin is generally just a really good touch since it leans away from the casually misogyny of the original and really brings her into her own.

Anyway on to details !! One of THE most astounding things I’ve seen in the shown (which I know also happens in the last ep of s1 but done by the Hood) and it’s when Virgil moves the chair. For those who are missing out on the incredibleness of this lays in the fact that this is CGI flawlessly interacting with a miniature element. And it’s the fact that it stops so abruptly just makes me think that absolutely everything was done purposefully - since, in my mind, having the chair go from A to B like it does allows them to animate the CG to blend better with the environment and any little mistakes you see from the chair are overlooked because you focus back on the movement. This all happens 5:57 mins into the episode btw :3.

The puppetry! The puppetry! The submersible rig is an actual miniature (or “bigature” as Weta puts it). By having it be a miniature you can capture the janky movements as it falls apart and not have it feel uncanny as what we are seeing can be recognised as real and not CG. (This goes for all the little bits of rocks and dust we see kick up too)

Now one of the major drawbacks I can see from the CGI miniature mix is that it doesn’t always fit quite well. I’ve mainly noticed it with TB2 (I have a fav ok babes?) and how the shadows interacts around it. During its launch sequence, the shadow underneath the craft looks a bit weird and the bottom of TB2 doesn’t quite blend with the environment. Other moments I’ve seen of similar things happening is in Breakdown when it lands (has the same weird shadow goings on) but also when it flies by the camera where it looks unbearably CG. Idk if I mentioned in the last post, but the main reason why the show is able to mix the media’s so well is bc of the interaction with one another - the ships are usually around dust, smoke whatnot so looks less like a sticker slapped on to it but is instead integrated.

Another fun little detail is the music that plays when Gordon goes to find the seismic device (10:25) which is near always played when they talk about their father. Someone in the reblogs of the post (linked at end) mentioned that it always cuts halfway through, never fully playing (which changes when they get their Dad back)

Talking about their dad, even though it’s not said he’s missing we know he is from Virgil’s words from the beginning “no one’s losing their dad today.” In one sentence we hear what has happened to their dad but has see a glimpse into the underlying trauma that came with his “death.”

I did want to do this more analytically but I can’t help but ramble TuT