Tumgik
#edit: from the tags i have realized that a lot of women love to fuck shit up (in the most girlboss way)
justanotherspeck · 8 months
Text
well god forbid a woman does anything 🙄 (she is damaging the fabric of space and time)
8K notes · View notes
fideidefenswhore · 3 months
Note
Hi! I understand if you don't feel like sharing it ,but i really would like to read your meta about that Henry/Anne scene in BSR ''Isn't that enough?''. I hope you have a nice day.
"is it enough for you?" , but yes, i actually elaborated on this a little more elsewhere in other tags because i used that shot of that scene again for another edit.
so, expanding where i left off:
the images chosen are more the vibe for the quotes but the one from BSR is very specific
it's a great scene and it's so well-acted bcus she feels BAD for him here.
she pities him. she feels bad for him because he's losing her bcs she's not going to settle for these terms
because she knows she's amazing
and she's so self-posessed in the scene
and he cannot handle this and so it manifests in the reaction(you're making a big mistake; except that is his own big projection)
she's willful and knows her worth and won't diminish herself for anyone
...and i chose the reaction from the scene bcus it's not necessarily at odds with these descriptions (of her 'prudence')
bcs it takes a lot of dignity and self-worth and inward grace to stand one's ground enough (to withstand the 'tide of their prince')
...to give that rejection that by all social and cultural norms and graces she was simply not supposed to give. or was at least supposed to couch in more self-effacing terms.
but yeah anyway i know people thought BSR was 'trashy' but i actually thought the acting and chemistry between them was really great and maybe even lifted the writing from its weaker points.
because just the way he reels back at the line 'is it enough for you?' in all its pity-wrought glory...firstly, because it seems like it's a question no one has ever thought to ask him before, and secondly, so it gives way into that transformation from the shock into anger (how a 'lesser' person is daring to pity him, how he doesn't want her pity, he wants her love) which is just...chef's kiss. she absolutely obliterates his dignity here, not only in her rejection but in this eloquent explanation as to why this is her answer, and in the finality of her conviction. it is delicious. they could have this scene anywhere, in this darkened staircase for its the tudors copycat setting in this lithuanian palace, or on a fucking greenscreen, and it would still be just as powerful if these were its actors.
(im realizing that if anyone who is reading this hasn't watched they're going to think i'm an insane person based on this description... so hopefully the actual beats of the scene below will reveal what i mean, lol:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
there's also a compelling subversion of (modern) expectation here, because...the only different thing in this equation is the status of the man asking to love her, asking why love is 'not enough'. for most 16c women of anne's status, no, 'love' wasn't enough. security was preferred. and, actually, it's very anachronistic how much this opinion is villianized (see, tobg:
Tumblr media
...when it's like...yeah, a man's love was considered worthless. if it wasn't, they wouldn't have considered betrothal contracts to be a necessary evil!). it's very easy for him to say that she would 'want for nothing' (households, jewels, etc, one assumes), and she isn't allowing his ease: she's contradicting him, and pointing out that there is little security in the position of royal mistress.
herein lies the constant counterfactual moralistic tutting: anne 'should've just become a mistress,' always paired with 'this would, in the end, have made her 'safer.'' and it would have, as we know (not anne), but it would also, as she points out here, likely lead into her being a nonentity (a voice on the pillow, a woman hiding underneath the sheets and behind the bed curtains, an ornament for dancing), and she didn't want to be one: she wanted to be partner and collaborator of her future husband, not the diversion and darling of someone else's.
tl;dr the scene is powerful because she feels bad for him (she feels bad for herself, too, but she only allows him to see the former:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
7 notes · View notes
courtesanofdeath · 5 months
Note
As the person who got you into Black Lagoon.. Now you know my situation. One of the most interesting underrated franchise that exists, barely has content at all. Barely any stories, art, gifs and other content.
This is a problem.
omg hiiii yes i totally feel your pain! it is crazy that there's very little content here on tumblr when it's really fucking good! the characters (the women especially omg omg), the soundtrack (including the banger opening), the little plots/arcs and most especially the action scenes! i am a sucker for great action scenes !! i was super hyped whenever there's a fight scene going on!
it really is underrated! i haven't heard many people talk about it! not to start comparing, but it reminds me of cowboy bebop (but it's also very different from it), and that one is reaaally popular, so i thought more people would check out black lagoon because of their similar vibes
is it because it was a 2000s anime? i realize a lot of series (that's not naruto bleach and black buter lmao) from that time tend to be overlooked. some don't like the animation from back then, but i think black lagoon's animation is really good!
also maybe it's because of the controversial stuff? like you mentioned to me last time, it does include some crazy things that some people may not be comfortable watching, so that's understandable!
it's definitely it's a hidden gem though and maybe it's just that not many people have talked about it, so it doesn't get that much attention. but maaaaan it's sooo goood, i wish more people would check it out!
and yeah i was excited to look through the black lagoon tag for stuff to reblog and i was surprised to find that there's not that many fan works for it - and a lot of the ones are just art (mostly of naked revy lol) that's been reposted without permission, which really sucks. if only i could draw 😭 the most i can contribute are gifsets and edits lol
hopefully more people will watch it and there could be more content for it! because it deserves more love!
0 notes
bonny-kookoo · 3 years
Text
Jungkook: Honesty 🔞
Tumblr media
,In which Jungkook is one of the most watched streamers and content creators on the web, and really bad at picking his women. Until he realizes he's been comparing them all to you.
Tags/warnings: Smut (duh but its really tame in this), protected sex, mentions of a Handjob, Blowjob, a lot of employment involving his pp if you get what I mean, bad puns and dirty jokes, reader is an emotional wreck but wbk, friends to lovers, playboy kook basically realizes what love is, angst
Want more of this? Feel free to comment (I love feedback like I love free food), request drabbles, or send in character asks! All content belonging to this AU will be tagged under Honesty!AU.
This is pretty choppy in terms of writing, meaning the parts jump a lot around when it comes to connectins. Its not as smooth as my usual works flow, and I don't really know if I was drunk writing this or not haha. It's been sitting in my drafts for so long now however, that I simply decided to post it. Who knows? Maybe you'll like it?
Sometimes you're unsure when exactly, or why you agreed on living with the redhead in the first place.
But then you look at your bank account and remember that oh right, that cherry haired demon actually pays you good money for cutting and editing his videos and streaming highlights- so you guessed that it kind of made up for the constant mental torture that he would put you under. For example, the amount of times you had to witness his obscene sex noises from his room- there was no way he was genuinely making girls exhibit those noises without involving something illegal in the process. To be fair, you were ready to call the cops twice before, but then again, you really didn't want to involve yourself into whatever he did inside that room of his. Girls seemed to be pretty worn out after emerging from that hellhole- and they were also always good for a laugh or two, whenever they would have to meet you in the mornings, eating your cereal like it was no one's business.
Which it wasn't.
You remember one moment in particular when it came to that; a girl who had probably hoped for more out of him had spotted you sitting on the kitchen counter in nothing but a sweater and underwear, eating cold pizza that had been left over from the night before- and the way she had yelled at the still barely conscious Jungkook before running out the door had been oscar-worthy of a performance. Truth be told though, it had made you feel a bit bad for her.
"You're never getting that out again." You comment from your position on the kitchen table, hot chocolate in hand as Jungkook walks into the kitchen, while the front door closes- a familiar sound to you. "Well fuck. I actually liked that shirt." You mumble, before you take a sip of your hot beverage.
"What-" He mumbles sleepily, before he notices a stain on the hem of his shirt. "Ah fuck." He curses, before slipping the shirt over his head to throw it into the laundry basket in the hallway.
"Ew no, Jungkook I don't want your cum-stains on my clothes!" You whine, running to the basket to pick up his shirt. "Jesus.." You mumble under your breath before you throw the shirt into the washing mashine, starting a quick cycle to at least get the stain out. "By the way, while you were busy getting down and dirty I sent you three videos. You know, so you can check them and post whenever." You say, walking past him back into the kitchen.
Jungkook doesn't say anything- and while you personally would guess that he doesn't because he's still barely alive at this point, he actually has a different reason not to talk. How come that you never really seem to be fazed by his antics at all? He's unsure why exactly he actually keeps you close like this anyways. You can pay your rent on your own, he can pay his own- its not like he needs to share the apartment with you anymore. But then again, he would probably need to hire a help for his own laundry and whatnot, and he hated strangers going through his shit. "Thanks." He mumbles out, retreating back into his room.
You don't think much about it.
---
She looks a bit like you, he realizes with a glimmer of horror as he watches the girl run her tongue over his length.
She's pretty, don't get him wrong- but he realizes with a choke of his own breath that she doesn't look like you enough. His mind corrects the facial features in his head, fabricates the image of your face looking up at him, and not hers- and he's a sudden goner, arousal shuddering through his body like it hadn't in a long long while. Jungkook really wanted to find love, everyone wanted- but he was also too lazy to put in too much effort. And then again, you weren't interested in him like this either way, so there was no use in letting himself crush on you.
He also felt like he was misusing his position of power over you.
Not in the way he does with the girl on his bed, although he'd love to move you around on his bed like this as well. Your wrists would be just as delicate in his palms, your body just as bewitching to watch as you'd writhe around underneath him in sensual ways. But that's not what his thought had been about. He basically paid you, gave you work, gave you a place to live- if he started to tell you that he had been slowly crushing on you, wouldn't you be swayed by that? Maybe you would fear loosing all of this if you would tell him no. The thought of that felt disgusting to him.
He feels an odd sense of guilt as he straps the condom over his length, lube not needed as he can see the glistening slick between her legs just fine. It feels odd this time, no matter how hard he chases his pleasure and enjoyment. It edges on it, teases him, but his thoughts can't be cleared this time. They're still muddy and unclear even after the girl had already left, leaving him in the shower where he scrubs himself clean, as if to forget the events that had just happened. It didn't matter, did it? Or maybe it mattered too much. His thoughts were all over the place, as he sits down at his desk, opening his twitter account to cancel tonight's stream.
---
You stare at him in distrust as he brings in the takeout bags, slipping off his shoes before he puts the white plastic bags on the kitchen table. "What?" He asks, taking off his coat before he walks back in, washing his hands at the sink while you take a look at the food he had chosen.
"Nothing." You say, as you open one of the white Styrofoam boxes, before his hand playfully slaps yours away. "And that's the issue." You say.
"What, me slapping your hand?" He asks, as you roll your eyes. "No honestly, what's the problem." He wonders, before taking all the boxes out the bags to finally eat.
"Well- nothing. You didn't have visitors for WEEKS kook, and you've been cancelling streams more often." You say. "Look, if something's up, you can always talk to me, you know that right?" You say, and he's about to thank you, until you say your next words, while stealing a spring roll from him. "I won't suck your dick though."
He almost chokes on his food at that, pressing his legs together while trying to force images of cute babydogs and kittens into his head instead of you on your knees in front of him, his length in your mouth.
"I mean, I do give a killer handjob though, so if you're THAT depressed, I could certainly you know, lend a hand." You say, casually taking another bite before cringing. "Oh wow that one was bad, please forget that one." You mumble, as Jungkook throws his back against the chair, letting his arms and head hang in defeat. "Hey whoa.." You say, now growing serious. "If it's that bad, I can move out or somethng-" You start, and he can't help himself any longer.
"I like you." He bursts out, and you stop chewing. "Like, fuck.. not like you, I'm not a schoolboy jesus fuck." He mumbles. "But like, I'm crushing on you, hard, and I don't know how to handle that. There, I said it." He finishes, looking at his food in front of him- now not so appetizing anymore.
"Okay." You simply say, as you continue eating.
"Okay?" He asks, almost offendedly so. "That's all?"
"I mean, its a crush right?" You say. "People get those all the time. It'll get better with time." You advice, before you put down your cutlery. "Or.. do you want me to move out? I can do that, you know?"
"Ah, I get it now." He says, chuckling to himself before he closes the box of food in front of him again, putting it in the microwave to maybe eat the next day before he goes into his room.
Suddenly he's not hungry anymore.
---
People sometimes do stupid shit to protect themselves.
While Jungkook had decided to go on a small hiatus to clear his thoughts, you had taken some time off as well, visiting your grandma further away for once. You truly enjoy your time there, full on so, but there's too much on your mind to really let yourself be immersed fully. "Boy troubles are always a nuisance, aren't they?" Your grandma says, as she places your cup of tea in front of you. "I can see that. Your mom looked like that too, years ago when she met your dad." She explains.
You rest your head on the table. "Yeah well, mom didn't fall in love with the guy that's also her boss." You mumble, as your grandma laughs, her hand gently on your head as if to help. But all it did was make you cry, as you start to feel the weight of everything crashing down. You could've had your picture-book and love-novel romantic start right then and there at the dinner table with him- but instead, you shot him down like it had been nothing, as if you didn't care about it at all. Your chances were now gone, and for good reason. "I need to pack." You simply say after a moment, getting up from the table with a lumb in your throat and guilt in your chest from being so cold to everyone around you.
You couldn't help it. All you've experienced until now had been hurt and lies. Your mom and dad had divorced even though they always said they loved each other, your first relationship ended up being a double edged sword when you found out your ex had been sleeping around like it was nothing, and your latest endeavors with men weren't much better. Loving was hard, it meant getting hurt, and you were absolutely tired of getting your heart broken over and over again.
Maybe that was why you had been so quick to shut him down.
But was that really any excuse? Couldn't you at least try? Apparently not, because at the end of it all, you've both started to drift away from each other anyways. There was no way he'd continue letting you work for him after you've returned back home. You've basically lost your job, and your best friend, both at the same time.
Double kill, you laughed inside your head.
---
Funny enough, you still worked even after his hiatus had ended.
He oddly enough seemed more determined than ever, trying to help around the apartment, hopelessly trying to start as much conversation with you as he possibly could. However, you saw right through him, blocking every chance at him trying to go any further than playful flirting. You knew this was irritating him a lot- but there was nothing you could do about it. It was pretty much an automatic response at this point.
And it was starting to really piss him off.
Because he knows you like him back- he knows you're just as deep in as he was mentally and emotionally, and it was starting to irritate him. Why couldn't you just give into his advances? Had he somehow never gained your trust enough to make you feel comfortable around him to the point of maybe involving yourself with him on a more intimate level? It wasn't even about sex anymore- it wasn't that at all, he'd happily only jerk off for the rest of his life if it meant that he could sleep next to you in his bed throughout the night.
He really was in deep, wasn't he?
But how could he not be? You were absolutely adorable in his sweaters, or whenever you were sleepy, or when you randomly started stress-baking at 2 am. You were so confident sometimes, while other times he could see you basically hiding away from the world- while he wanted to be able to tell you you're pretty, until you believed him you were.
He wanted to be the only opinion you genuinely cherished.
---
Jungkook can't seem to let things go, you thought as he asks you out yet again in the kitchen of your shared apartment- and it makes you snap for some reason, as you just do the next best thing you can think of.
And chasing each other in the rain was so goddamn cliche, you thought, as you practically escaped, fled out the apartment, instant regret filling your chest as the rain hit your head way more violently than you thought it would. But the only other alternative was staying back inside the apartment and continue to fight with Jungkook. Oh, but then again, his voice coming from behind you told you that there was no alternative anymore. Jungkook was out for blood, and he had bitten down on your flesh with no intention to let you go this time, it seemed.
"Why the fuck are you so goddamn stubborn?!" He shouts, partially due to the rain, but also because of how agitated he felt. "I'm trying, can't you see that?!" He barks out, by now absolutely spent.
"Well I didn't ask you to!" You shout back at him, before you finally start crying. "I never told you to!"
Its funny how he can spot the tears despite the rain- how he knows you're crying simply from the way your nose turns red and your eyes start to shimmer a lot more underneath the streetlight close to you. Walking towards you, he sighs out in relief as you finally meet him halfway, hugging him tightly while he holds you just as much.
As if a wall had broken down, as if you had finally given in.
"I know." He says, quieter, since he's much closer now. "You never ask for help." He continues, while you let yourself be swept away by emotions for the first time ever, violently shaking in his arms and unsure if it was the cold of simply your whole body being crumbled like an empty candy wrapper. "You never voice out your worries, or say when you've had enough. You always push your boundaries for everyone else except yourself, trust me I know that." He says. "And that's just you. That's who I want to be with." He explains. "I know you love me, and because of that I won't take a no for an answer, or any other weird explanation you may have on why this is a bad idea." He tells you. "We're not our parents, I'm not your ex. We're us, and there's no better example for that than you and me." He says, and you take another minute to take it all in, before you finally talk.
"Kook?" You mumble against his chest.
"Hm?" He answers.
"I'm cold." You say. "And wet."
And he just laughs, before he picks you up and carries you inside.
This night, finally sleeping soundly next to you.
578 notes · View notes
onedivinemisfit · 2 years
Text
2021 Creator Self-Love Extravaganza!
Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 favorite works (fics, art, edits, etc.) you’ve created this year and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you’ve brought into the world in 2021. If you don’t have five published works, that’s fine! Include ideas/drafts/whatever you like that you’ve worked on/thought about, and talk a little about them instead! Remember, this is all about self-love and positive enthusiasm, so fuck the rules if you need to. Have fun, and tag as many fellow creators as you like so they can share the love! <3
Tagged by @bubblesthemonsterartist
Weirdly enough I am less reflected over this year than I was the one previous. In 2020, I had goals. In 2021, I just DRUMMED ON as long as my inspiration would let me! I indulged, I think, for the most part. 😂 However, looking back, I daresay I am proud. I have experimented more than I realized, and my pieces look rather good for it~
Year total: 184 artworks, 1 gif
1. Obiyuki Almost Kiss This would be one of many artworks I would scream into Joanna’s dms about; one of those THIS HAS TO BE GOOD OKAY-type artwork. The Concubine!AU means a lot to me, and the fic she and Jen wrote even moreso. This artwork was the first time where I applied 3D models during the sketching stage, and a perspective grid for… well, that’s rather self-explanatory yes?
Tumblr media
2. “When doth mine husband return to me?” The first in what would be a series of “Annie says she’s gonna sketch, then 30 hours later has to admit she lied”. LOL. One of many redraws this year, I tested new ways of both coloring and shading with this one - not to mention the lineless background that I was mighty proud of, for being entirely made up on the spot. I feel like this artwork marked the spot where I got more into harmonizing colors, while also playing with stronger contrasts.
Tumblr media
3. Miss me when the ships sail West Omigosh this one. I made a couple comics this year and this is my fave. Again, lots of focus on vibrant colors - I find my style benefits from sacrificing some realism in favor of impressionistic, striking scenery. Comics are also challenging, bc you know that in order to tell the story well, you have to choose the right panels, and I have never been good at minimalism. This was also my first venture into chromatic aberration! Which has quickly become a favorite!
Tumblr media
4. Now and then, forever the same While this artwork isn’t really impressive in its own right - it was a quick sketch, where color setting and atmosphere was the most important, to instantly tell a story. But. BUT. I made a gif! For the first time in ten whole years, I went back to try and animate something. It was a lot of work, ngl, but it really paid off in the end, wow.
Tumblr media
5. Wheel of Fortune Ngl, that whole week went by in a flurry. I made seven pieces from scratch in exactly 7x24 days. THAT is a record in its own right. This one was perhaps my favorite of the lot, for it came to me so naturally. And it felt like I applied all the news tricks I’d learned this year into a single piece, and best of all, I got to try one of my favorite palettes!
Tumblr media
BONUS: Ladies of the Witcher AU Just because I can, and because I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t! These aren’t even about quality or detailwork, but the fact that I still remain so proud of these designs. Eleven actually badass-looking girls and women, none who can be mistaken for one another, and whose energy is entirely her own.
If I can preserve even half of the subconscious energy I’ve channeled towards art this year, for next year, I will be overjoyed! Here’s to hoping~
Tagging: hmmmm, my darling @jaqdaw-art, @nokaru, @qob-vrisk and @ccprovolomies if any of you feel ever so inclined 😘
50 notes · View notes
ravenadottir · 3 years
Note
what do you think the characters would be doing after the show/how would they be using their platform? for example, i think lottie would be using hers to give people astrology readings and stuff and i think the season 3 mc would be sooo problematic online
ok but you know what? definitely! s3 mc would be causing the stir she wanted to in the villa and couldn't. i'm almost certain she would be raging and saying absurd things to get attention, something like gabby hana you know? BIG YIKES.
one thing is certain... all of them (purposely or not) would be making thirst traps... and definitely supporting masks and registering to vote. so that's a certainty for almost all of them.
lottie. witchtok constantly. not necessarily giving readings but she would be an apologist and majority on that tag. her instagram would be split into two accounts: one for her personal endeavours like thirst traps and *looks of the day*, and a second for her brand as a makeup artist/personal stylist. cause i think that would be so fucking cool! lottie knows how to perpetuate her personal brand and would use social media for that as well. here's some edits i did in the past to explain it better. i headcanon a collab with elisa for wigs that they would both wear on social media, so that's something i really like! plus, advocating for women's rights, especially when a male politician says something dumb, so you know, EVERY SINGLE DAY.
bobby. in the middle of the pandemic? can't help thinking he would be doing some humorous videos, but in my head they're not the funny type. just some cringey ones... don't get me wrong, but bobby is only funny when he's not trying to, and in social media he strikes me as the type that not only makes videos but also puts the towel over his head to play a girl, so that's probably the majority of his content. some food of course, and DEFINITELY some *cute* selfies that he knows it works as thirst traps. i think he talks about registering to vote and blm, but doesn't give his opinion on anything else, politics wise. here's bobby's feed for the rest.
gary. i'm not thrilled to inform that gary would be thirst trapping all the time. now that he's relatively famous there's no reason why not posting those pics and videos. between tik tok trends to show off his muscles, and instagram to... well, do that exact same thing, he might take some time to show nan and the soup kitchen, but overall... thirst traps. possibly being blunt about masks and registering but his content is very closed off. also, he will get a dog and encourage people to adopt. there's a lot of pranks on dicky and vice versa, so that's something i thought for his social media, just couldn't find a good faceclaim that has a variety of pics.
lucas. mostly bringing awareness about covid and the use of masks, probably pointing it out a couple of political disputes, and definitely advising people to be careful about their votes all around the world. i like to think he's a huge advocate for legalization of a certain practice that women have to beg to have (you know the one), and i think he knows exactly how to make a thirst trap without making one. stop asian hate and blm carrds present, and often giving his followers the incentive to donate. DEFINITELY 'look of the day' for at least the weekend, and lots and lots of landscape from the places he's been visiting or wishing to.
henrik. he's everywhere and he takes his phone to talk about it. no doubt henrik is having the time of his life by travelling alone, or with his wife, and doing lives at all times. i think you would see him doing lives in the middle of the night, or watching the sunset/sunrise with his followers, besides making his *questionable* forest foraging and recipes. survival videos? MOST LIKELY THAN YOU THINK. here's his social media, where i covered mostly of what his relationship would like on instagram. (heavily based off "beyond the hill").
carl. the amount of rpg on his stories? immaculate. chess? you bet! lots and lots of carl's launchings for his company, which does have a separate account but he can't quite separate himself from it and it shows on his feed. his relationship would be discreetly displayed with cryptic captions since he's not so sentimental. here's his feed with some personal things he would be encouraged to post and boost that confidence of his.
anon that asked for more hannah stuff, this is for you:
hannah. i have one for her because i do like her aesthetic. don't mind the faceclaim, it was the only one i could find in so many situations. horses, books, some *cute* selfies, travelling pics and more. on tiktok definitely booktok, no doubt about it. she might do a lot of the "telling the story of my book as a story time" trend to promote it and say "technically it's real life."
elisa. it's all about branding and she knows how to do it well! some influencers might not get political because of how they can be perceived but i think elisa doesn't give a flying fuck about that. she talks often about blm and vaccines on her stories. i get a jackie aina vibe from her when talking about brands that support/encourage dark skin models and influencers, so that's a plus. she will give shit to a makeup brand that doesn't care for shade range and won't hide her feelings about it. here's her usual feed, with looks and tours (that i'm certain she would do a lot). i also think she'll eventually cave and have a brand of wigs, clothes and makeup, AS SHE SHOULD.
hope. there's no question about her activism on social media and i like to imagine she would be speaking up against anti-vaxxers and racism, mostly. just like yewande, she would probably talk about every time she felt the show might've favoured people that don't look like her. we would be getting the hot tea on everything since she's so honest. there's also lots of looks and promoting her friends' products because she supports them so much. priya's clothing line, elisa x lottie collab, etc. here's the feed i made for her a while ago.
chelsea. she might not be that deep into politics but she'll talk about covid and how people should be more careful about it, "wearing all these cute masks my babes lozza made for us!". LOTS of *look of the day* and tours on the spaces she decorates, besides the behind the scenes of parties and weddings (of ex-islanders) that i know she would throw. her feed also includes her closet, supporting her friends' endeavours and promoting them, besides some random mug collection shots and FOR SURE a pug selfie with mc.
priya. there's not much to say except for the occasional thirst trap (with those amazing thigh, ffs she should), lots of vaccine warnings, definitely political anecdotes and her clothing brand. i love to think she would have an actual boutique once things get settled after covid, and she would use social media to promote every line. her feed consists mostly of her travelling, designs, supporting the girls and her photoshoots.
kassam. lots and lots of backstage photos and that *prickly* way of demanding people to use their brains and wear a mask, besides getting the vaccine. in studio or just before the stage, selfies with a clothing line with his logo and definitely pics with islanders he didn't get to meet but is now friends with. during covid he would be using his lives to play for his followers, like lots of dj's and musicians i've seen doing on reddit and tiktok, probably called "late night music" or something like that. encouraging followers to donate for causes as well.
noah. not so huge on social media, might be the most discrete of them all. there would be lots and lots of pictures of the mornings before he opens the library, because i sincerely think he would keep his job. not the most outspoken about certain matters but carrds like the blm's and 'stop asian hate''s are on all of his bio's. i do like to imagine him taking selfies with the boys from the show, like ibrahim. he would be so present in noah's feed it's not even funny. the casual "cute unintentional" thirst trap too. family photos from ages ago and lots of his siblings as well. he does love to write long captions for whenever he posts his girlfriend. one thing though, during the first few months on the outside, he wouldn't be so present, afraid of facing the bashing on him if he got with mc in the show. that could be a reason for him to stay away until people "forget" about it.
marisol. SO - MANY - SUITS - SELFIES it makes me cry happy tears. between advocating for women's rights in a more technical way, she would definitely be using her platform to also talk about lgbtq+, especially after the realization she had during her journey. lots and lots of activism about those things, and i think she would be doing a fine job. definitely promoting the girls' products/services and an occasional thirst trap with a braless suit look.
rocco. covidiot. (i just wanted to use this nickname one more time). he might get a hard time from followers and villa buddies because of his stance on vaccines. i just hope he reads some articles instead of sharing bibity-bobity-bullshit on facebook and instagram. there's lots of vaccine memes on his comment sections no matter what he posts though. it's gonna take a while for the public to move on.
59 notes · View notes
malebodysuittf · 3 years
Text
The Wrapping
In my last story, I wanted to write a dark thriller-ish story with a villainous protagonist, but I wanted this story to be a whole lot more wholesome (though still devious) for the holidays! It’s kind of silly and not as hot tbh, but hopefully it’s kind of fun for someone. It’s been one hell of a year, so here’s to a better 2021. Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays y’all! Stay safe, and make sure no one you’re close to is plotting to suitify you! ;)
edit: Oh crap, I totally forgot to post this yesterday! Here it is though, my message stays the same! 
-----------------------------------------------------
I sighed as I listened to the mundane tapping of fingers on keyboards, nails hitting the desk, pens clicking. Over and over, my head rang with the same sounds throughout the morning. No one who was here wanted to be here. Except perhaps my boss. That piece of shit put us all to work instead of giving us the holidays off. Only reason he might be happy to be here is probably because, if his wife has been hearing any of the rumors regarding his interactions with the female employees of our company, I’m assuming their marriage is disastrous.
I thought I’d be able to relax at home, spend Christmas with my boyfriend, Craig. We’ve been together for a couple of years now, and this was our first year living together. Our first Christmas spent together. The last one, we had both flown home to see our parents, splitting up. 
But of course, my piece of shit boss had called me up. Told me to come in and work...subtly threatened unemployment if I objected. I wanted to quit right  then and there, but money was tight and I knew how much Craig and I could use the cash. I had to break the news to Craig, but he was understanding. He promised that we’d open up presents tonight, or we’d open them up tomorrow if I was too tired. It was heartwarming to hear the support loved one, but made the act of going to work the next day no less grueling. 
“Hey Lance, you get that call from boss too?” I jumped at the sound of my name being called and turned to see my coworker and one of the few friends I’ve made in the office, Trevor. He was a good lookin’ guy, though he only had a frustrated face at the moment. 
Tumblr media
“Yeah. Fucking ridiculous.”
“Right? Sick of this fucking job. Frankly, I’m not even sure what I fucking do at this point,” he joked. A hint of a smile popped up on his face. He slapped me on the arm and got up, heading towards the bathroom. I closed my eyes and imagined what I’ll do with Craig. It was the only thing that could motivate me to keep up with my work. 
----------------------------
Hours later, the sun was setting and an orange hue painted the sky. It was a surprisingly beautiful sunset, considering it was Christmas. I finally finished my work. I watched the tired people around me cleaning up their desks, disgruntled and ready to go home. I glanced over at Trevor’s desk and noted he was still missing...weird. I hadn’t seen him the entire day ever since he left to go to the restroom. I guessed he had wisened up and just left. I sure as hell wish I could afford to...I know Trevor came from a pretty wealthy background. But at least I could finally find some respite with the end of the day approaching. 
Until I saw the secretary walking to my desk. 
She placed her hands on my desk and looked me in the eye, almost remorsefully. 
“Mr. Campbell would like to speak to you.”
My heart sunk as I realized I’ll be spending more time in this shithole instead of celebrating the holidays with my boyfriend. I slumped in my chair and nodded to the secretary. She left me and I cleaned my act up. Surely it must be something quick, right? I couldn’t imagine him calling me in at the end like this for any reason. 
Walking over to Mr. Campbell’s office, I opened the door and saw my dapper boss staring at me intimidatingly. 
Tumblr media
“Hello, Lance. I’m sure this little meeting may come as a surprise. Take a seat, won’t you?” He motioned towards a chair opposite from his desk, while seating himself in a larger one. 
“I know you might be a little confused as to why I called you in. But let me assure it’s nothing bad.” He smiled at me, something I had never seen before on his face. He always looked menacing and unwelcoming. But right in this moment, something seemed different. 
“I just wanted to give you this for being an outstanding part of this office. You’ve always been productive and loyal to this business. You deserve proper compensation. Especially for coming in on Christmas.”
From behind his desk, he pulled out a fairly large box, wrapped in a snowman-covered paper, perhaps the size of my torso, and slid it across the desk. I cautiously took the box, wondering what the catch was. There was no way he decided to just randomly give me this out of kindness or gratefulness. Not Mr. Campbell. This is the abusive boss who makes people work on Christmas, threaten their jobs and their records, and, allegedly, numerous women have quit and spoken up on him firing them if they did not oblige to sexual favors. On top of that, why the hell is he only giving this to me? Still, he was my boss for now, and I had to appeal to him.
“...Er, thanks, Mr. Campbell. I appreciate the gift. I’ll make sure-”
“Why don’t you open it?”
“Right here? Right now?”
“Yes. Open it. I want you to see it.”
Confused, I still obeyed and started to rip the wrapping paper off. I glanced up to give the boss an acknowledging smile as I lifted the lid up. I found a folded up suit and tie, along with pants.
“Clothing, Mr. Campbell?” I tried to feign gratitude with a hesitant smile.
“Keep going.” 
I lifted the clothing and saw an ID on top of a peach colored object. On the ID, I saw a picture of...Trevor. A chill ran across my spine as I felt the peace colored object...it felt like skin. I pulled it out and lo and behold...it was Trevor in the form of a flimsy suit. 
“Is this some kind of...costume?” The thing gave me the creeps, but I couldn’t defy my curiosity. 
“You could say that.”
“Was that...you earlier then?”
A grim glare shot across Mr. Campbell’s face. “No.”
“Then...what did you do to Trevor?” My voice quivered as a ton of horrific scenes ran through my head. 
“It was just an injection. Don’t worry, he’ll be fine.” He pulled out what looked like pink stickers. “All you do is slap these magic tags on, and he’ll be restored within an hour. Sorry to alarm you.” 
A sigh of relief escaped my mouth, until Mr. Campbell said, “Why don’t you put him on right now?” 
“What? Right here? I don’t even know-”
“Take your clothes off. Stretch open the mouth. You can figure out the rest.” 
Something told me I didn’t have a choice. I laid the suit on the floor and started to pull out of my clothing, tossing it over the chair. I grabbed the Trevor suit and dipped my toes into the mouth. Surprisingly, it was soft and comfortable. I slipped into the legs and did a few test jumps. Mr. Campbell observed closely as the suit matched my form. I squeezed my way into the rest of the suit before pulling the face over my own, before a painful ache rushed through my body. Suddenly, a lifetime of memories flooded my mind. I recalled feeling a prick in the neck before everything went black...I wasn’t exactly sure what to say to Mr. Campbell.
“Is there something you would like me to do with this?” Trevor’s voice escaped my throat! It was like I was him entirely. But why did Mr. Campbell want me in this suit? I was confused on what to do now. I stood there awkwardly, naked with an admittedly sexier body. Mr. Campbell walked around his desk and came up to me.
“Why don’t you unwrap your second present?” He grabbed my crotch, though I immediately relented and backed up.
“I’m sorry Mr. Campbell, but I’ve got a boyfriend, and frankly, this is a little weird...”
“Don’t you want to provide for him?” I gulped, knowing my job was on the line. Craig would understand, he always does.
I started to unbutton Mr. Campbell’s jacket and slid it off of him. The white button-up was already partially open, displaying the man’s hairy chest. Despite how awful my boss was, I confessed I considered him an attractive man. I pulled off the shirt and was down to his pants. I looked at him, unsure if he wanted me to go all the way. He nodded, urging me to take it all off. I unbuckled his belt and slid it out, the pants visibly loosened and slipped down with ease. I looked up for another nod of approval before removing his shoes and socks, smelling the subtle rankness of his feet. Finally, i slipped his underwear down, and a lengthy member dropped in front of me. I examined the man in front of me, up and down. Were these the kind of sexual favors my boss wanted? Was he interested in men? 
“Why don’t you keep going?” 
I raised an eyebrow at him, dumbfounded. “What?” 
“Keep going.” He walked closer to me, sensually looking me in the eye. 
I couldn’t quite grasp what he meant, until he tugged at his cheek, revealing something else inside. I rubbed Mr. Campbell’s face and he closed his eyes, groaning in pleasure. Slowly tracing down his face, I hooked my fingers under his lips and started to stretch the mouth open. I could feel the scruffy facial hair move under my fingers as I tugged at his face, the face distorting as a familiar face was revealed under Mr. Campbell’s face.
“Craig?” I was absolutely speechless as I slipped off the entire face of my boss. The upper half of the face landed in a heap behind him, while the chin lay across his chest. I backed up in shock at the spectacle before me! 
Craig gave me a devious smile and started to rip the skin off of himself. Still using Mr. Campbell’s hands, he grabbed at the mouth around his neck and started to pull. As he did, the skin started to give, and he started to rip it off, like wrapping. Truly like a Christmas gift! The face split in half and he tugged towards his left arm. With a forceful motion, the arm sleeve ripped right off and he tossed it towards onto the desk, the fingers hanging over the side as they flopped around. He continued to rip the other side off as the suit seemingly got shredded. With the torso hanging over his hip, the torn up skinsuit hung onto the cock in pieces, the face hanging by the side while the right hand of the suit laying flatly on the ground. Craig heaved as he pulled the rest of it off violently, further shredding the skin until it lay as a mess on the floor. He picked up it and slung the mangled skinsuit onto the desk.
“Merry Christmas, babe!” He held me by my hips and kissed me.
“Craig, what the hell is this?” 
“I bought us some of these serums, and figured they would make a nice gift. I didn’t originally plan to use it on these guys in specific, but when you got that call and told me about your shitty boss...I figured we could get a bit of revenge. Plus, you’ve told me about Trevor being hot. So I figured, why the hell not?” 
“But what about Mr. Campbell? You ripped him up!”
“Don’t worry, trust me, some tape and those little sticker things he showed...he’ll be back. And he’ll be humbled.”
He went back behind the desk and pulled out a paper and slid it over to me. I skimmed through it...this was a document giving the company to me!
“Oh my God! What the fuck? This is...”
“Yep. I always said you’d make a great leader. And whenever your coworkers come by to hang out with us, you have no clue what they say about you. They’re gonna love you. And Mr. Campbell over here, signed the document. Hopefully, he takes the time off to reimagine himself as a better man. All you gotta do is sign it yourself.” He rolled a pen over and I held it within my hand. I scoured through Trevor’s thoughts, and he had said some of the sweetest things about me, and his conversations with our colleagues suggested that maybe I could be the one  to make this shithole better. I brought the pen to the paper and voila, my signature was on it.
“You get to be the boss now, Lance.” Craig got up and came to embrace me. I was too stunned at everything happening to give him much of a response. “You can make this place so much better next year. But for now, why don’t we enjoy that sexy suit you’re in?” He started to kiss me, and I returned the favor. I pulled back for a second and looked Craig in the eyes.
“This is the best Christmas ever...Why don’t I give you my present now?” I gave him a suggestive look, rubbing up against against him. I pushed him down across the desk and whispered into his ear, “I love you, babe. Merry Christmas.” 
340 notes · View notes
amysteryspot · 4 years
Text
Better With You - Thomas Shelby x Female Reader
Request: If you can could you please do one about Tommy having a sort of possessive claim over you (not in an abusive way of course) even though you’ve never looked at him in that way, and when Michael comes into the family again you two get close, which makes Tommy extremely jealous.
Requested by: Anonymous
Fandom: Peaky Blinders
Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Female Reader
Summary: Thomas has known (Y/N) for all of her life and loved her for most part of his, always disguising his claim on her as friendly protectiveness. What happens when Michael makes his way back into the family and starts to get a little too close to her for Tommy’s liking?
Warnings: swearing, mentions of war, mild smut (?).
Word Count: 3526
A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this. Hope you all have fun reading it too. An especial thank to @the-friendly-editor​ for helping me edit this, it meant a lot to me. Tags are at the end of the post, if you want to be add send me a message. I would love to hear what you think of it, your feedback is always appreciated.
 Things you should consider before reading this:
1. I named the Shelby’s mother Anastasia because I felt like I needed to do that. Also, I know that there is a lot of discussion about Finn and the rest of the Shelbys having the same mother or not. I just assumed that they all have the same mother and she died a little after giving birth to Finn. It is not something groundbreaking for the fic but I wanted to clarify just in case.
2. The boys went to war right at the beginning of it; I just ignored the information given to us by “The Ballad of Tommy Shelby”.
3. I probably forgot to warn you about something, I’m sorry.
 (Y/N) = Your Name | (Y/N/N) = Your Nickname | (Y/L/N) = Your Last Name | (Y/E/C) = Your Eye Color
Tumblr media
If you asked Tommy how long he had known (Y/N) (Y/L/N), he wouldn’t know how to answer—fuck, it seemed like the woman had been in his life forever.
He remembered the day his mother had brought him to the (Y/L/N)’s house for them to meet the new baby. Four-year-old Tommy had complained all the way to their neighbor’s house, much to his older brother’s amusement, until their mother had given him a scolding. (Y/N)’s birth had been the talk of Watery Lane. They finally had a sweet little girl for the neighborhood to dote on.
With two sons, Anastasia was more than happy to welcome the little girl into their lives, not so secretly longing to have a daughter, and that was the reason for Tommy to be fussing over going to see the newborn—jealousy.
However, nothing could have prepared little Tommy for what was about to happen when his mother sat him down on the couch and Mrs. (Y/L/N) put the bundle of covers in his arms—his icy blue eyes stared down at baby (Y/N), who stopped crying instantly when she looked up at him with bright (Y/E/C) eyes of her own. From that moment on, Tommy knew that he would always love her.
And love her he did, since that day and throughout all of their lives. He would raise hell at home for his mother to bring him to the (Y/L/N)’s home so he could see (Y/N), and the three adults would all be astonished at how easily the baby would stop crying when she was in his arms. It wasn’t really a surprise that the first word she babbled was “Tom” or that when she started walking, on wobbly feet, it was Tommy she was seeking.
As they grew up, they grew closer, until it became almost impossible to have one without the other. When Ada was born, Tommy was worried about the possibility that (Y/N) would forget about him, that she would be too enchanted by having another girl around. Instead, as the time passed, he discovered that his little sister was one more reason for (Y/N) to spend more time at the Shelby home.
Even when he started messing around with the boys on the street, and she befriended other girls at school, they would still seek each other out whenever they could. They stuck together when their teenage years came, when Tommy started fooling around with girls from school and secretly scaring down most of the boys that showed any interest in (Y/N).
At least, he did until the day she came crying to him about not being good enough or pretty enough for anybody, not like the girls he would go out with, and breaking his heart; that certainly wasn’t what he had in mind when chasing down the boys. All he had wanted was to protect her, to make sure that she wouldn’t exchange him for some other boy. He wanted to ensure that she was his and his only.
That was actually the reason that led to their first kiss—her first kiss—(Y/N/N) had asked him, pleaded with him, through all the tears to just kiss her and get it done. Fifteen-year-old (Y/N) was sure that nobody would ever want her, and she wanted to experience it at least once. She told Tommy he was the only one she trusted with the task.
“It will mean nothing to you, Tom. You have kissed a million other girls already—I will just be another one for you—but it’s important to me. Please, Tom? Please, please.”
Her pleas had won him over, but (Y/N)’s words couldn’t have been further from the truth—the kiss had meant something for him. It had meant more than he predicted when he gave in to her begging, because the moment their lips touched, Tommy realized he was in love with his best friend and the worst part was that she didn’t had a fucking clue about it.
Then Tommy did what he did best; he pretended that it never happened, pushing it away and never talking to anyone about the kiss or his feelings. He stopped chasing down the boys who would show interest in (Y/N) and watched as she eventually started going out with some of them, laughing with him about how stupid she was to think that no one would ever like her.
When her first boyfriend got too handsy and she broke up with him—not before giving him a good left hook that left him with a very black eye, just like Tommy had taught her—(Y/N) had gone straight to the Shelby home, looking for comfort in his arms. Tommy pretended that the gnawing feeling in his chest was nothing but brotherly protectiveness instead of anger, jealousy and possessiveness—a destructive combination, especially on a Shelby boy.
(Y/N) had stayed with him that night, and the both of them slept together like they used to when they were kids. First thing in the morning the next day, right after he left her at her own house, he found her now ex-boyfriend and beat him up. Arthur and Freddie had to get him off of the guy, afraid of what he would end up doing if they didn’t stop him.
After that, Tommy had focused on channeling his frustrations into going out with every girl in town that wasn’t her. It wasn’t difficult, he was good looking and charming and he was very aware of it; that’s how he met Greta, and thought that he could get over his feelings for his best friend with her.
Greta’s parents were against their involvement at first, but he charmed them, so they started dating. His heart broke down when (Y/N) found out and showed genuine happiness for him having finally found somebody to settle down with.
Tommy’s plan was to end things between them. However, Greta fell ill and he didn’t have the heart to break up with her, so he stayed by her side until she passed. (Y/N) gave him support in the only way she knew how: by loving him.
Just not in the way he wanted her to.
When they thought that things would go back to normal, the War exploded and Tommy did the only thing he considered right in his eyes: he enlisted alongside his brothers. Their first fight had taken place on the night he told her he was leaving for France in two weeks. (Y/N) had hit and screamed at him until he was able to take a hold on her and then, then she cried in his arms the whole night, afraid that she would lose him forever.
They did the best they could with those two weeks. Once more, nothing could have prepared Tommy for (Y/N)’s appeal the night before he was shipping to France. She had come to him right after dinner. Her father was preparing himself to leave, too, and both of the (Y/L/N) women were enjoying whatever time they had left with him before he was gone.
As they both laid there in his bed, resting in each other’s arms and staring at the ceiling, (Y/N) made the decision that would seal his fate if he could survive the war.
“Make love to me.”
It wasn’t a question, nor a request—she was simply telling him to make love to her like this was the most logical thing in the world. His breath caught in his throat, preventing him from answering at first, and (Y/N/N) took that as a cue to reassure him.
“It will be like my first kiss, Tommy, just something I have to get over with. I want it to be you. I trust you. Let me give you at least one last good memory of me before you go.”
Again, he caved in, not needing much more convincing than the certainty in her eyes as she looked down at him, propped up on one elbow. Her hand rested unintentionally above his heart. Granting her wishes, he let himself dive into his own desires, touching her the way he had wanted since they had kissed for the first time.
He worked her body like a delicate instrument and pulled at her strings smoothly, engraving every beautiful sound that he coaxed out of her and the feel of her under his fingertips in his memory. When morning came, they were still a mess of limbs intertwined together, trying to hold on to a last thread of hope and imprint the last few hours on their memories.
In a way, (Y/N) was right. The boy that entered that train in 1914 wasn’t the same that got out of it in 1918. Yet, his love for her never faltered; it just became a tad more… dangerous.
Thomas lost count of how many letters they had exchanged during the past four years. He lost count of how many times he dreamt of her, of coming back home and telling her how he felt. However, any courage he had gathered vanished the moment he saw her waiting for him at the train station. He couldn’t condemn her to a life by his side, he had already taken enough from her.
Polly had told him in her letters how (Y/N/N) had helped her with the business, with the house, with Finn, and with any other thing she could. Especially after her mother, who had given up on life after Mr. (Y/L/N) was killed in combat, passed. A part of him felt guilty for not being there for her as much as she was for him when his mother passed and his father left.
“She’s a Shelby now.”
That’s what Polly had said when he asked her if (Y/N) had any remaining family.
Not much changed when they returned. (Y/N/N) still worked with them. She spent more time at the Shelby home and the gambling den than at her own place. The two of them still sought each other out, not talking much, but enjoying each other’s company. It was in those quiet moments with her that Tommy had a little peace.
Thomas drowned himself in work to forget it all, wanting to expand the business, unleashing his ambitions so long smothered by the war. They found the guns, in a strike of luck, he thought. Both Polly and (Y/N) advised him to let it go, but he just couldn’t. It was too good of an opportunity.
Campbell had come because of it, and with him, Grace. At the time, he didn’t know who she really was. He thought that the beautiful, blonde barmaid was just that: beautiful and innocent, everything he and his family were not. So he fooled himself, fell for her, and then she betrayed him and left for America.
Again, (Y/N) was there for him, and again, he found himself sinking into his love for her. The only good thing that came from all this mess was that the business was never better. He thought that it was time to start planning for an expansion, and with that came another thing that he hadn’t quite predicted—Michael.
He had planned to find Polly’s children for her. She had been suffering quite a lot lately. Even if people thought that his heart was as good as gone, he wanted his family to be okay. He wanted them to be happy.
Thomas found the boy and he came to Polly, making his way into the family and the business quickly. That included starting to get close to (Y/N) – too fucking close for his liking.
It was supposed to be natural, he knew that. (Y/N) kept the books at the shop. She was better with numbers than most of them, so it was natural that she would be the one to help Michael when he assumed the position of accounts clerk.
After they came back, he learned that (Y/N) had become very good at sneaking around without getting caught. It was rare to see her with any men whose last name wasn’t Shelby, or wasn’t closely related to the Peaky Blinders. That didn’t mean she didn’t have men swooning over her all the time, or that he was finally okay with that—much like when they were teenagers, he wanted to chase them all down—the only difference was now he was more deadly.
“I couldn’t have done it without you.”
It was Michael’s voice that brought him back to reality, and his gaze fell immediately on the boy. They were all gathered on the snug in the Garrison. (Y/N) was sitting between him and Michael, Tommy’s arm casually rested on her shoulders.
(Y/N) said, “Oh, no, you would totally get it... after a few more weeks.”
Everyone burst out laughing at her remark, but the only thing he could think about was the hand Michael rested on (Y/N)’s thigh. His own hand clenched around his glass before he downed the rest of its contents.
He didn’t notice Polly’s gaze on him. Despite what most people believed, Tommy had never been a good liar. He could get away with omitting information to people and redirecting the conversation, most of the time, but a direct confrontation was a completely different thing. Polly was always able to read him first, to know the things he wasn’t willing to share.
“Maybe we should just hire you instead of Michael, then.” He ignored the look (Y/N) gave him, taking another drag of his cigarette and looking away.
However, he couldn’t miss the lingering touches, or how (Y/N/N) leaned into Michael when he talked to her, and how she was just so comfortable with him. It made his blood boil.
When (Y/N/N) said she wanted to get home he offered to walk her, and was fairly surprised at how she didn’t say a word to him until they reached her front door.
Then she turned to face him, features painted with anger, and asked, “What the hell was that, Tom?”
He actually rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
(Y/N) huffed, turning around to unlock the door before entering the house, leaving it open for him to follow. She went straight to the dressing room, shedding her coat and throwing it at the table with her purse as he followed her closely.
“Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”
She was taking her shoes off, and Tommy took advantage of the moment to let his eyes follow her movements. God, was he in love with that woman.
“I’m talking about your attitude with Michael at the Garrison. That was completely unnecessary,” She said.
“Someone had to put that boy in his place,” Tommy said.
(Y/N) turned to him then, and he would be worried with that look if he hadn’t been at the receiving end of her anger for so many years.
“Oh, please enlighten me, Thomas. What is his place?” (Y/N) asked.
“For fucks sake, (Y/N/N), he was all over you!”
She rolled her eyes. “He is a boy, Thomas, a boy. He’s family…”
Tommy never thought that what would make him snap would be hearing her say that Michael was family, but apparently it was.
“He’s family, huh?” Thomas said. “He is fucking family! Then he should know better and stay away from you.”
She stared at him for a moment, brow furrowed, as she seemed to put the puzzle together in her head. “Why would he stay away from me, Tom?”
He turned around to face away from her for a moment, rubbing a hand over his face. “No, no. You won’t make me feel guilty for that.”
“Make you feel guilty for what, Tommy?”
He recognized the hint of annoyance on her tone and couldn’t ignore it anymore, the alcohol giving him the courage that he had lost that day on the train station, as he turned around and shouted, “For loving you!”
She held her breath, eyes widening as she stared back at him.
Tommy continued, “Michael should stay away from you because you’re fucking mine and I love you.”
“Tommy, I’m not your property, and you know that I love you…”
“No, you don’t,” he interrupted her, making her look at him with confusion, “You don’t love me the way I love you. The way I’ve loved you since the fucking day you asked me to kiss you when you were fifteen!”
He saw her flinch before murmuring his name, trying to gain his attention but he couldn’t stop now. The truth was finally out there and he just had to go on with it, let it all out before he lost his mind.
“You said to me that it would mean nothing, that it would be just another kiss for me, but you were wrong,” Tommy said, his breaths short.
She looked bewildered, and Tommy held onto a strand of hope he didn’t even know still existed.
“That kiss meant fucking everything. From that day on, I’ve never seen you in the same way as before, because I realized I was in love with you and you didn’t feel the same. So I ignored these feelings while I saw you going out with boys, and I’ve thrown myself into fucking every girl that wasn’t you because I knew I couldn’t have you, not the way I wanted.”
Tommy didn’t notice that he was walking to her until they were just a breath apart.
“Then I found Greta, and I thought that I could forget you, but it only reminded me that you are the only one I want. I was going to break up with her, but she fell ill. You stayed by my side, and just when I thought that I would have a chance to tell you everything, the war happened and I just couldn’t. I couldn’t, because there was no way in hell that I was going to risk going to fight in France and die. I couldn’t leave you here to suffer because of me, either because you felt the same or not.”
“Tommy…” (Y/N)’s voice was all but a whisper.
He couldn’t resist anymore, his hands brought her to him, his eyes observing hers from up close, not giving her time to talk or he would lose his courage.
“I was ready to go there and die, and never let you know how I felt. But you had to give me hope that night before I was shipped off to that fucking hell. You had to…”He took a deep breath, his eyes closing for a brief second, a flood of memories making his heart race faster. “You had to give yourself to me. You had to give me a taste of what I thought I could never have, to make me want to survive the fucking war, to come back to you, and to let you know about all of these stupid feelings.”
Tommy couldn’t wait anymore. He did the one thing he had wanted to since he had returned from France—he kissed her. It wasn’t gentle or patient; no, it was urgent and filled with passion and he didn’t know how to stop, not when she wasn’t pushing him away. He devoured her as a man starved, teeth clashing and hands grabbing at anything they could touch. They were both out of breath when they finally parted.
“You said that you wanted to give me one last good memory and it was that memory that kept me alive during most of the nights when I was stuck in the fucking mud,” Thomas said.
(Y/N)’s fingers were clinging to him like her life depended on it, like she was afraid to lose him to the War again.
Tommy took the moment to let the words spill out. “The memory of you and the feeling of you under my fingers, and all around me, and the way you tasted.”
His lips brushed against hers, fingers clawing at the flesh of her hips like they had done the night before he left for France.
He backed her up against the wall, hands trailing down to the back of her thighs, picking her up and trapping her with his body.
Tommy looked straight to her eyes as he spoke again, “How you writhed under me, all the beautiful sounds you made, and I just wanted to come back to you and make some new memories.”
(Y/N) shivered at his words. She gave him just a brief second to observe the rise and fall of her chest and her expanded pupils before he felt her fingers at the back of his head, forcing him to really look at her as she said, “Then let’s work on those new memories.”
Their lips clashed again, and every doubt that he ever felt vanished for a moment. That night their bodies moved together like old acquaintances, skin sliding against skin, hands gripping at each other, lips kissing every patch of skin while chanting a sinful choir of moans and curses alongside their names.
When Tommy woke up the next day, (Y/N/N) in his arms, he realized that he was finally home.
Taglist: @captivatedbycillianmurphy, @internalmess3
934 notes · View notes
olivieblake · 3 years
Note
KSIGJICNRJCNEHCBD HELLO HELLO WELCOME TO THE HELL THAT IS KNOWING ZUTARA IS EVERYTHING AND SHOULD HAVE BEEN WRITTEN AS SUCH !!!! wow i love that you are as angry as i was (and am every rewatch? yikes) this is amazing i knew you're my favorite but yeah wow man this really. confirms it whew high five
yeah it’s pretty wild how I knew this was what happened and was already bracing for it and yet STILL got completely misled by the narrative??? MEN I tell you MEN. I’m also going to use this ask as a method to reply to some of the other commentary if you don’t mind since this seems like a good place for communal frustration (here is my original post for anyone scrolling around lost)
@meg-hemmings: I agree with all of ur thoughts and I would TOTALLY read anything you wrote for Zutara … your writing is among my absolute favorite ever and I think you would write the Zutara dynamic so beautifully!
@one-man-propaganda-machine: I am - begging - you to write it yourself.
I... am not going to make promises, but I may have to. I want something very specific and that never bodes well for me. I doubt it would be more than a one-shot, but there are multiple scenes that could have occurred between episodes that would flesh out what was there (and of course I’d cut the final 15 seconds of the show, much like another epilogue I loathe and ignore)
@deifiliaa: omg atla discourse in 2021; olivie, i’d love to see what your character tier list looks like now that you’ve finished the series 👀
I’m going to put azula at the top. not because she’s a good person obviously but she’s FULL. OF. HITS. every time she’s on the screen the narrative gets immediately more interesting. she’s savvy and self-assured and I love it. her ending depressed me although I like that it was kind of about the loss of her two best friends? if that had been more of a focus I think I would have enjoyed it more but yeah, losing mai and ty lee could have been rightfully devastating. who among us is not totally obliterated by friend breakups. I also really loved uncle iroh; if anything that’s why I wasn’t invested in zuko’s storyline until close to the end, because watching him disappoint his uncle was very difficult (I get it, he’s a teenager, he’s growing and evolving and whatnot, but also I am closer to being his uncle than to being him so like, yeah). I also hope the peter pan revenge guy (JET that’s his name, sorry pregnancy kills my brain cells) did hook up with both katara and zuko. I love that journey for all three of them. I wanted more time with mai than we got, so there wasn’t quite enough there to love... but I was very down with ty lee interfering on her behalf. what a pivotal moment
of the core characters I think I was quickest to love sokka; the episode where he apologizes to suki and asks her to train him cemented it for me. I think it’s a big deal to show boys apologizing on-screen and owning their misconceptions. I like katara a lot—she’s what a lot of people do with fanon hermione. toph is also great, and part of me feels there is a strong basis for a ship with aang that balances their opposing energy, though I also like the idea of them being platonic besties. aang is... twelve. pretty much every time he was on the screen mr blake (a teacher) was like “man, aang is such a seventh grader,” so it was nice how convincing that was for his emotional journey, but at the same time it was hard to forget he was in seventh grade. appa and momo are STARS. I am sure I have mentioned this before but mr blake really loves animals and he was devastated by appa’s kidnapping; he hugged our dog for about ten minutes after aang found appa. after he decided I was zuko, he speculated that he is closest to aang but he’s not happy about it lol. “ugh, aang and I are such boring pacifists” was I believe his take on the subject
@libbynico, who for some reason I can’t tag: so true! katara was literally something like a mother/older sister figure to aang the entire time, but whatever
yeah, I think it really sucks that katara, as the emotionally nurturing character, felt shoved into the role of love interest. it’s everything wrong with the distribution of emotional labor in male-female relationships but sure, WHATEVER, apparently nobody thought to ask me in 2008
@touslesnoms: I liked “such selfish prayers” by andromeda3116 if you ever decide to read zutara after the series; the worst prisoner by emletish is super funny too
thanks for the recs! I will take them. I do want something very specific so I will be accepting recs until I find it lol. or until I lose composure and write it (yeah this is me WITH my composure, no wonder mr blake thinks I’m zuko, “I’m never happy” indeed)
@gaeleria: THANK YOU!!! Ugh omg that “I’m confused” kiss scene made me actively hate the ending. I knew ahead of time they were endgame, so I tried to make myself accept it early on. Like, I really didn’t like the pairing, but I wasn’t going to be emotionally invested in the romance and it was just going to be like, whatevs. AND THEN THEY WROTE THAT SCENE??! 1000% no. What was even the point of that scene? If they had written it to make Aang have some introspection and realize it’s not all about him, Katara’s feelings matter too, or even apologize, or anything… but no, there was literally no point to that scene. No character growth, it was never mentioned again. Ugh.
this is in answer to both you and beloved @zabbini: yeah this was a fuck-up for sure lol. I think it may come down to editing for time; the series is very irregularly paced, what with the majority of the action taking place in the final three episodes of a 16 episode season. or maybe it’s just because MEN CAN’T BE TRUSTED TO WRITE ROMANCE but either way yeah this was a real misstep and just truly, truly reeked of a particular (white) male attitude about how women think and what they owe. had a bad day, dudes? buy a gun, kiss your forever girl, do whatever you want and it’s fine! (I’m exaggerating but barely)
in terms of what’s so angering for me: a character like katara who previously had tons of agency was robbed of it when it came to her romantic arc, which is just really upsetting. and to be fair, I was equally upset when zuko instantly agreed to the agni kai with azula because it was like okay well katara’s extremely valuable, as you know, but now you want her to just sit on the sidelines...? (more of a story flaw than a relationship flaw, but my chest sunk a little at the idea that katara was going to sit by and watch as an accessory to zuko’s story when she’s a crucial weapon in their collective fight. what a waste, right?) 
it’s also especially hard to buy into the aang thing when zuko’s method of problem-solving on katara’s behalf is there for comparison. he asks her what she needs in order to find closure and then from there, does everything necessary to get it without having to be asked twice. versus aang, who is a twelve-year-old pair of rogue lips who never wins any of his fights without the aid of phenomenal cosmic powers...? ugh I’m getting off track but in the end there’s just a complete lack of understanding what female audiences want, though again, I don’t think they were really considering that at all. which I guess is... fair, it’s not the point of the show, but then why make the ending romantic at all? to show that their brand of hero gets everything he wants, I guess
in conclusion in 2008 I’m not sure the industry was capable of doing better, which sucks but isn’t surprising. still, it does fit the components of “stuff I write fics for,” which is I enjoyed most of it but find myself enraged by slivers I compulsively need to fix—WHICH IS STILL NOT A PROMISE but ugh I can already feel myself giving in 
26 notes · View notes
Text
The Whore || John Shelby x reader
Tumblr media
⤠ MASTERLIST⤟
Anon requested: “11&19 with John boy? cause I miss him “ (I miss him too, my poor heart aches)
Summary:  n.11 & 19 from prompt list: “Please, please, please” + “I’ll burn this fucking place down” Warnings: swearing, a lot of angst, prostitution, nudity, violence, mentions of abuse, mentions of rape, misogynistic talk, graphic description of signs of physical abuse
Author’s notes:
Behind each one of these works there are sleepless nights and something really close to multiple mental breakdowns, so, please, take a minute to send me a message about it, I need actual feedbacks to understand how to improve my skills and grow ♡
So, this request’s been in my mind for ages, and even though I’m not happy with its final part ‘cause it sucks, I’m literally obsessed with this idea, I love it so much that I’ll probably write a long fic about it, right after Contagio, but it will depend on you babes, because, first and froemost, I need to know what you think about this piece. ⤟ IMPORTANT
Please, if you’re a victim of any kind of abuse, talk to someone who can help you, nobody should go through something like that alone.⤟ IMPORTANT 
I edited the gif and added the text, it’s not an actual scene from the show, but I thought it could be a good idea, a small detail that could be added to my works. What do you think about it? Pls, let me hear your opinions babeees ⤟ 
I’m sorry for being this late, but I’ve been really busy in the past days and writing is never just easy, it demands concentration and effort, plus I don’t want you to be disappointed, so I’m always extra accurate while working. I hope this is worth the wait!
If you want to be added to my tag list, please, directly message me
I’m Italian, English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for every possible mistake I made. Also, please, help me improve my writing by telling me if there’s something wrong
ENJOY!
Birmingham was somehow silent that night, John noticed the unusually empty streets around him, as his feisty pace easily led him towards a well-known destination, his confident steps resounding in between the damp walls of those sordid blocks made of innumerable overcrowded flats. The unmistakable stench of stagnant urine viciously permeated his nostrils, soon causing a disgusted expression to taint his angelic face, while he avidly took the umpteenth drag of smoke from his Cuban cigar and finally stopped his unceasing walk in front of the most renowned brothel in the entire city. For about three years by then, day after day, his life had been perilously circling the drain: things had got totally out of hand, fate had pitilessly thrown him into profound despair, giving life to an apparently endless spiral of darkness and desolation, which was gradually corroding his fragile self, brutally strangling him, rapaciously plundering each of his already strained vital breaths. And, nevertheless, it was beyond hard to blame him for such catastrophic outcomes, after all, he’d scarcely survived the battlefield, only to find himself with a handful of nothing, left alone to deal with a dead wife and four children to raise on his own, while his guts crawled with excruciating grief and ravenous acrimony for the whole world, having him develop a tendency to self-destruction that was just as concerning as it was well concealed.  As a matter of fact, in spite of his private hell, he still remained a Shelby, and a Shelby wasn’t meant to be soft, nor weak, none of them could afford to succumb to their affliction, never, not for a moment. They had to be invulnerable. 
Or, at least, they had to look invulnerable, for truth was that John was scared, utterly frightened by all those unmerciful changes.  Deep inside he felt like a hopeless, undefended child, forsaken by God and discarded to wander that grim world without any destination other than death and misery, thus his blood boiled with virulence and venom, having his heart clench with blind wrath and his devastated young soul desperately long for sort of any distorted kind of unattached affection. That was basically the main reason why his bed was incessantly warm, or more accurately, warmer than it had always been before, because, needless to say, John Shelby had actually been an authentic ladies’ man since his first cry. His stunning beauty constantly teemed on everyone’s lips in Birmingham, there was not a single woman in the whole town who hadn’t dreamt of sleeping with him at least once in her life. Therefore, John was more than happy to please them all, literally, welcoming them with wide open arms, even during his past marriage; and, on those rare times when no girl went to knock on his door, he had now grown accustomed to seek relief into whorehouses, rather than sleep alone and become an easy prey for his ferocious demons.
So he eventually ended up dropping his smouldering cigar on the uneven asphalt of the most rundown place in Small Heath, “Le Belle Donne”, an Italian house of tolerance, quite dilapidated and about to fall to pieces, but which often happened to have his favourite prostitutes. Indeed, ever since the Peaky Blinders had defeated and subjugated Sabini’s clan, they’d occupied a prominent position among the country, to the point that several other Italian gangs on their territory, including the Changrettas who owned that brothel in particular, had finally given in to the Shelbys. As a direct consequence, to put it simply, John and all his brothers had, in a very real sense, earned the full right to abuse of whatever business the wops held.
“Hey, man!”  Johnny resonantly barked as he entered the hall, maintaining a pretty intimidating attitude and a menacing look on purpose, in order to strike even greater fear in his newest flunky. “C’mon, show me what you got” That rough order cunningly glided onto his lower lip, immediately followed by his hot tongue, while his famished gaze travelled around the room, examining the face of each harlot standing there with meticulous attention, without however finding something that could come anywhere close to seriously rapture him. Robert Turrini, the whoremaster, was a bizarre bloke, for his physical appearance could be probably described as both disturbing and amusing: his revortingly corpulent stomach wobbled and his short legs dangerously stumbled, when he made haste to stand up and accommodate his toughest client. “Mr. Shelby, what an honour and a pleasure to have you back!” Those sycophant words fled his moist and malodorous mouth, and nonetheless, his stubby fingers inexorably betrayed his true thoughts, since they were either nervously torturing each other or, as only alternative, convulsively running through his greasy, mangy bangs. “Please, sir, follow me, these are for yokels and boozers, nothing to do with gentlemen like yourself” Once again, Turrini’s shrill fawning tone relentlessly grated his ears, making clear reference to the bunch of second-rate whores who could be found at the entrance; thus the lame pimp quickly moved, his hand anxiously beckoning John to tread upon his heels, then headed towards an eerily narrow corridor, so scanty that it was almost impossible to cross, if not walking on the bias. The secret lounge was illuminated only in part by a squalid red light creating a gruesome atmosphere, a dull silence tyrannically reigned into that small space, although you were not alone, but practically glued to another girl; both sitting on a minuscle sofa, your elbows touching, still none of you dared emit a single sound. Everything felt like lead upon your papier-mâché ribcage, that horrible sensation forcing your traumatized brain to involuntarily keep counting the seconds until that heinous burden would’ve potentially staved in your sternum, definitively annihilating your splintered heart. As a result, when the ramshackle door opened and a high-pitched squeak scraped your skin, you really thought to be about to die. Your torturer made his entrance, and right after him, another man came in, yet you couldn’t spot his face, since the peak of his cap designedly casted a mysterious shadow on it. “These two right here, they're real young, real fresh” Robert flaunted his goods along with a nefarious grin, rubbing his soiled paws with evident greed. “Behold the finest offering of flesh and bone on the market” A sadistic snicker repugnantly accompanied his speech, instantly causing John to frown, visibly disgruntled with the way that man deliberately talked about human beings. Luckily, it was a known fact that the middle Shelby was used to treating his women with all due respect: whether he paid them or not, he always made sure they were comfortable with him and never shrank from giving them some good time as well; therefore, a vexed glare was shot in the direction of his gross interlocutor, before his crystalline eyes briefly fluttered around the place, then bumping into your elegant figure almost at once.
Your bloodstream seemed to benumb on the spot as the stranger’s confident stare entangled yours, his rawboned features being now fully displayed, for he had lifted his chin a little in order to properly look at you, and you only, despite Clarissa’s desperate and petulant attempts to get his attention with malicious smiles and ridiculous pet names. Even though your dazed mind had just been ruthlessly brutalized by the sudden, ablaze assault of his glacial irises, a few moments were enough for you to realize how profoundly different he was from all the low-down rats who usually came through that horrible place.
Each sharp, still somehow delicate, trait of his face was brimming with delicious youthfulness, a less keen eye might have even confounded his freshness with actual naivety, but not yours; you were far too clever to make such a coarse mistake. Furthermore, the midnight-blue posh fabric of the classy suit, remarkably folding his majestic body, left gaunt doubt that he was, in all likelihood, a considerably rich man, which was beyond disorientating you, since the price to pay for some tawdry delight in that brothel was outrageously derisory, to say the least. And ultimately, as much as it killed you to conceive it, he was without question one of the most enchanting men you had ever seen, to the point that you found yourself subconsciously wondering the possible reason why a heavenly creature of his kind would’ve needed to buy a miserable hour of dissembled love. 
“There she is” That malleable murmur, filled with longing and gratification, furtively sidled past John’s roseate mouth, as its corners seductively bent upwards and his gaze persevered in its praiseworthy commitment to scrupulously linger your finest shape in sheer adoration. Lace and organdy sublimely merged on the light crimson negligee you were wearing, your immaculate form appeared as a beguiling paradox into his dilated pupils, being your long legs lecherously left exposed, while every inch of your porcelain skin, from your lean neck to your groin, was painstakingly disguised by that unholy material, dark and inscrutable, albeit thin enough to allow him to glimpse the inviting turgidity of your nipples. His breath shuddered in awe when he went back to contemplate your aphrodisiac facial features, flushed cheeks and plump lips having him ache with desire, and then your doe eyes flooded by melancholy, strangling his soul with no mercy, entrenching into his brains the treacherous conviction that, at the end of the day, he would’ve gladly dilapidated his fortune, if only to venerate you from afar. “Oi, sweetheart!” His low voice finally rumbled within the walls of that small space, overwhelmingly vibrating into your abdomen, while you forced yourself to swallow the painful lump obstructing your throat and stand up, promptly responding to his command, aware as you had become that rebelling against your pitiable destiny would’ve served no purpose at all. Holding your client’s hand behind your back, but keeping your head down during the whole route, you silently guided him up the spiral staircase to the best room in the house, like you had previously been instructed by your pimp. His jacket and hat were quickly hung on the apposite coat-rack, leaving his muscular top covered with just his white shirt and blue vest, an alluring grin was flashed in your direction and you detected a libidinous sparkle in his irises, as he healed the rift between you at a slow pace. “What should I call you, sweetheart?” He knowingly used the same flattering pet name once more, whispering that barely audible question into your ear, for he was now behind you: his large hands laid around your waist, gently making your back and his vigorous chest fit together, while his skilled mouth brushed forthwith against your nape, drawing an ardent contrail of ephemeral pecks up until your jaw. “Just y/n” You gasped in response, the marked contrast between his warmth and your bitter cold body, along with crippling dread eating you alive, caused your scrambled stomach to squirm and your eyelids to distressingly shut into a frown. “Well, that’s a pretty good one, I’m John, by the way” A lovely, yet hinted giggle fleetingly filled your ears together with that little compliment; there was no record of mockery in his tone, though, it simply sounded like he wanted to be nice to you, without any aspiration of personal gain, and you almost blushed, caught off guard and no longer used to any form of kindness. Nevertheless, it was a matter of instants before another wet, long kiss was pressed on your jawline, making you startle with evident apprehension and, at a later time, definitively back away from him, as soon as you sensed his touch abandoning your hips only to climb your sides, till he reached for your nightgown’s collar and his fingers began to fiddle with its round buttons. “No, I’ll do it!” You curtly gave notice, as you temporarily lost control of both your speech and actions, placing your hands above his in order to shrug them off, then turning to face him with short breath, your open palms shielding you. “I got it” A noticeably softer voice supplanted your preceding rudeness once you gradually metabolised how much damage your incautious reaction could’ve done.
“Aye, aye, darling, as you wish” But John just chuckled, tenderly humouring you, while his forearms jokingly lift in surrender to your commands, although, truth be told, your strange behaviour had left him a bit bewildered, well-nigh confused. Carefully moving backwards, he cockily made himself comfortable on the edge of the double bed, sitting right in front of you with splayed legs, his yearning stare never deflecting from you, and started to unbutton his waistcoat along with his shirt and undershirt, until his statuesque torso was completely nude, in all its glory, as the moon transpired through the curtains and shed its faint rays on his every contour, superbly enhancing all of his muscles.
Without reprieve, he ogled up at you in pure adoration, devastatingly astonished afresh by your dazzling beauty, eager to feel your afire flesh around his, literally hanging on your every word or move, while a provocative smirk steadily rippled his lips. Still, he kept questioning why a seraphic vision like you was slowly withering away in that authentic hell on heart, adamantly squandering your blush of youth amidst that rabble of unrestrained putridity. It made absolutely no sense, and he couldn’t get rid of that pernicious thought haunting his mind ever since he had first seen you: you looked nervous, extremely defensive, almost paralyzed with fear; you seemed so different from all the whores he’d had before, hence his instincts, however obfuscated with cupidity, were screaming that something was wrong.  And when he watched you turn your back on him again, so to avoid his penetrating gaze as you reluctantly got undressed, it was enough for him to understand that his execrable hunch was right. Nevertheless, by the time his head managed to eventually reconnect to his mouth, it was already too late, the soft textile of your nightdress ineluctably fell to your feet, leaving you naked under his starving leer.
John choked on his own breath; for the very first time, he felt like a fledgling kid at his earliest experience, no matter if nothing could be further form the truth, in some turbid, cryptic way, you were able to make him vulnerable. His craw went hellishly dry while he continued to gape at you in awe, the sinuous curves of your flawless glutes, the meandering line of your superlatively arched back covered in part by your soft hair, your tensed shoulders and your refined legs, everything about you caused his mind to go entirely black, words stifling in his throat. Yet, as soon as you moved to face him and his sight was blessed with the full view of your voluptuous figure, something altered the light in his cerulean eyes, suddenly making it dark and gloomy. His jaw slightly dropped under the weight of that violent dismay: in conjunction, an obnoxious sense of nausea cruelly shot him in the gut and blind anger virulently assailed him, for your front bust was completely martyrized.
“What the hell...” That unmeant babble died in the gelid air, his shocked orbs demarcating the strokes of your damaged silhouette: your neck and collarbone were horridly plastered with several violet fingerprints, as if someone had mercilessly strangled you over and over, greenish bruises with the shape of full palms circled both your arms, there were conspicuous signs of ligature around your tiny wrists. Worse still, his eyelids had to squeeze a little in order to bring into focus the multiple oxblood dots stigmatizing your soft breasts, until he noticed in horror how those round specks were effectively cigarettes burns; all of the oxygen bluntly withdrew from his lungs, when he dwelled on the multiple blue and black marks barbarically desecrating the protuberances of your ribs. But what irremediably drove him over the edge were the two ghastly scars digging stretched grooves in your lower stomach, in parallel with your bulging pelvic bones and down almost to your livid groin.
Prey of that deleterious humiliation, you observed raw disgust contaminating his features and, with no apparent reason, the dormant hatred you had for yourself began to ferment inside your belly. “I-I’m sorry” you forced yourself to swallow your imminent tears, unexpectedly, the awareness of not being able to please him somehow inflicted more suffering on your mangled soul “If I’m not to your taste, y-you can...” The young man quickly stood up and, before you had the chance to finish your nonsensical sentence, he readily grabbed his shirt, approaching you with dispatch, his cold irises burning with an implausible mixture of fury and concern. “I don’t fucking care right now” His voice was unsteady, rolling down his tongue in fatigued panting, as his hands hastened to wrap his shirt around your shoulders, his trembling fingers struggling to put the buttons through the eyelets  “Who did this to you?” In truth, he was talking to himself rather than with you, noticeable impatience worsening his mad tone, yet you persistently steered clear of his inquiring look, more than determined to keep your mouth shut, forasmuch as your dizzy head was already helplessly spinning, along with your heart rabidly hammering against your sore ribcage. You were having a hard time figuring out what was going on, everything around you was so confused, you didn’t even know whether to trust him or not, you only wanted to close your eyes and forget about that lucid nightmare. “I’m not asking you, for fuck’s sake! Tell me who it was!”  That searing order tersely brought you back to reality and cleared how easily his rash temper could reemerge; indeed, all of a sudden, no trace was left of that kind, cheerful boy who earlier that night had succeeded in making you genuinely blush, on the contrary, when he cupped your cheeks and vehemently shook you, in a desperate effort to get your attention, his rough, authoritative command unbendingly hit you, and the sweet child within him ended up being thoroughly smothered by the scary, ruthless gangster that he truly was. That unforeseen contact had your feet automatically stagger backwards, your eyes fell to your tiptoes and your teeth started skewering your lower lip, while your exhausted brain resorted to its last ounce of strength, thereby obligating you to spit out a bit of your sorrow. “Three months ago, the man I once called father sold me to settle one of his debts with the Italians” Your thorax seemed to shrink to the point of absurdity once you became aware that it was essentially the first time you allowed yourself to say it all out loud. However, the presence of that compassionate stranger still represented for you a substantial barrier to surmount, leading your unquiet glance to franticly move from the grime on the floor, to the broken window on your left, anywhere, but never daring to meet his. “ I tried to run away, I swear I did, but they always caught me and-” 
A large knot callously plugged the bottom of your palate, causing you to hesitate for a minute, gently rubbing your own arms, in attempt to comfort yourself . “Robert has a short fuse, he g-gets pretty brutal when you don’t cooperate” Those disenchanted considerations carried an involuntary grin, it was nothing more than a spasm, but hid the unmistakable sign of an imminent cry, and John’s attentive irises certainly did not let it go unnoticed, yet he chose to stay quiet, because the last thing he would’ve wanted in that crucial moment was to scare you even more. “He beat me to death, each time harder than the time before, and then he let those men-... He-e kept me tied to that bed for days to teach me a lesson” Copious tears were now unremittingly streaming down your flushed face, your heart aching with raw affliction, preventing you from breathing properly, one of your palms instinctively went to cover the space between your breasts, in a vain whirl to ease that excruciating grief. “Oh, God” John simply sighed, he was precariously theetering on the verge of tears as well, thick veins untamedly pumped in the proximity of his temples, till his solid shape ruinously keeled over the longest side of the bed, his elbows piercing his own thighs, as he hid behind his clenched fists and finally permitted himself to indulge a couple of muffled sobs. Innumerable atrocities had clouded his eyes and soul during his brief life, he himself was capable of unspeakable acts of cruelty, still, that was absolutely intolerable, hearing your story was taking a terrible toll on him. Try as he might, he couldn’t conceive how somebody could have been so hopelessly evil, to abuse in such a heinous way a defenseless creature as pure as you were. That thought was irretrievably disturbing him, rancorously eroding his bowels, almost depriving him of his sanity.
“U-until I stopped fighting them”  Your last, indescribably anguished whisper struck the fatal blow, it unrelentingly plunged into his chest, sending an unbearable jolt of pain through his poisoned veins. For a brief instant, his expression, together with yours, harshly turned into a mask made of neat despair, as if your synapsis had been ravelled and both of you were enduring the exact same ache, at the exact same moment.
“I’ll fucking kill him!” Then, all at once, something apopletic inside him violently detonated, he berserkly stood up, roughly tripping over the beside table and everything placed on it. “Fucking kill that filthy bastard with my own two hands, bloody hell!” His hoarse yells made your bruised skin cringe and his furious steps covered the whole length of the room in the space of a scant minute; he was literally seething with murderous fits of rage, teeth grinding with irrepressible choler. “No!” your desperate voice erupted afresh and you hurried to reach for him, your hands unconsciously enveloping his cheekbones “Please, please, John, please, stop!” For the first time, his name slipped out of your aching throat in between those pathetic pleads, your wrists forced him to look at you, in attempt to dissuade him from his homicidal purposes; the mere thought of the potential disastrous consequences to his calamitous ire totally asphyxiated you, rampant panic assaulted your frail mind and, soon after, you found yourself hyperventilating and simultaneously rambling a bunch of incoherent words, your fingers gradually tightening their grip on him. “He’s gonna get so angry at me, he’s gonna- he-he’s...” “I’m a fucking Shelby, he does not draw a damn breath unless I say so” He firmly grabbed your chin with just two of his fingers, guiding your depleted pupils to entirely focus on his confident stare, and he growled that undisputable fact a span away from your nose. Petrified by that new awareness, you fell utterly silent, only gawking in his direction, while he put his undershirt back on with ease and rapidly grasped his cap. “Just stay here, do you hear me? Don’t move until I come back” An incandescent kiss was impulsively pressed to your forehead, no other words were spent, before he disappeared behind the door of your private hell. When your persecutor saw his special guest unyieldingly storming towards his desk with a truculent expression exuding fervent disappointment, he jumped on his feet, ready to find a solution to whatever problem had possibly arisen; one thing was sure, he never would’ve guessed what was about to happen. “Mr. Shelby, what’s wron-” John’s fist savagely collided with his jaw, nipping his cloying speech in the bud, without giving Turrini a second to process what was going on, another punch pitilessly smote him, and then another one, and then another, until hot, plenteous blood gushed from his multiple wounds. “You son of a bitch”   Animalistic groans left his rabid maws, sheer hate rushing through his brains, as he violently tossed him to the ground, immediately beginning to kick his torso with all of his brute force. “Mercy! I beg of you, sir, have mercy!” His victim’s prayers and harrowing screams barely titillated his ears, everything he could think about was your tragically marred body, hence an unbridled desire to give him a taste of his own medicine completely took over. “Where was your mercy when you were torturing her?”  Expertely holding his hat in the most efficient way, in a fury, John went down on his sacrificial lamb, promptly disfiguring just one side of his face, in order to take a quite theatrical pause from his wicked work.
“When she was imploring you to stop?”  Robert was now crying out loud, overwhelmed by that merciless agony, reduced to just invoke the glacial scynt of death, since nothing in his entire miserable existence had ever caused him more intense pain, than the coarse perception of a finely sharpened razorblade brutishly lacerating his flesh once more, inch by inch.
“Now bend your ear to this” despite his wrenching laments, John rudely lift him up by seizing the blood stained collar of his jacket “if anyone else but me goes near her fucking room again, I’ll burn this fucking place down!” And with that first, deadly threat the pimp’s head was brutally slammed into the wall, an umpteenth whine of contrition escaping his mouth filled with blood, nevertheless, no time was left for redemption.
“You lay a finger on her again” his skull was doggedly crashed into the bricks once again, a crimson spatter smeared the pale plaster covering them “I will break your neck” John’s knuckles clasped, having his red right hand effectively strenghten its hold on his neck, nearly killing him on the spot. However, fortunately for the whoremaster, Johnny would’ve not put an end to his sufferings, nor he could've simply taken you away, deep inside, he knew he needed to discuss it with his family, first and foremost, with Thomas, for the unstable equilibrium reached by the Peaky Blinder was far too fragile to start a new war against the Italians. Thus, with great difficulty, he forced himself to keep his mind clear and put a lid on his beastly instinct. “From now on, no one of you dirty swines is allowed to even look at her”  Throwing him to the floor, the middle Shelby delivered one last kick straight to his fat abdomen, and disrespectfully spit on him, marking with his salt slaver the end of his brutalized prey’s calvary. “By order of the Peaky Blinders”   As soon as the crackling door snapped open, your heart seemed to explode, your eyelids bolted with pure fear, whilst you pulled your knees closer to your clavicles, an ancient prayer lingering your lips together with heavy breaths, as you prepared for the worst. But the worst never came. “Y/n, hey, calm down. It’s all right” John’s husky voice echoed in your ears, and, you could’ve sworn it, that was, without the slightest doubt, the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. Your head abruptly tilted in his direction, an oxymoric mixture of fear and hope twinkling into your watery irises, deep pants still rocking your tiny self. “It’s me, it’s just me” Keeping his arms up to indicate his innocuous purpose, he carefully approached you. Almost immediately, you noticed the several scarlet handprints staining his pale top, eloquent sign that he had tried to wipe his palms on that ivory material as best as he could. Yet, you were so profoundly relieved to see his friendly face, that, to be honest, the sight of fresh blood didn’t upset you at all. It was like you had fallen into a fugue state, every single thing around you was so distant, your numb senses were only able to concentrate on John’s lean silhouette kneeling in front of you. “ No one will hurt you anymore, darling” his hands gently went to caress your thighs, while his worried gaze tirelessly sought yours and he spoke those soft, reassuring words “You need to trust me”. And you did want to put all of your faith in that young man. His delicate flair easily awakened you from that ostensible slumber, building a rousing fire inside your belly; without a thought about your unforeseen actions, you threw your arms around his strong neck, your knees producing a dry sound as they collided with the wooden pavement, still you didn’t care and you held him tight, letting out loud cries and drowning into his muscular chest, finally revelling in the feeling of that warm embrace. Soon, he entangled his callous fingers with your velvety locks, subconsciously narrowing his solid shoulders, as to shield your frangible figure from the outside world. “I'll get you out of here soon, I promise”
tag list: @spidey-pal​, @shadow-of-wonder​, @stassaurus​​, @peachlle​, @livvtheangel​, @myjbphase​, @namelesslosers, @crazyonesarethebest​, @vxxn128​, @keithseabrook27​, @spaghettirogers​​, @writingstudent​​, @hp-hogwartsexpress​​
2K notes · View notes
xxisxxisxxis · 4 years
Text
Deleted Scenes: Gateway Drug
Tag List: @unknownoblivion  @edwardtriggerhandzz  @haileynicoleseavey17  @cierrasixx19  @oskea93  @mgkobsessed  @sharon6713  @itsametaphorbriansblog  @miriampraez  @allie-mcginn @xpoisonousrosesx  @rebeccaphillips14  @nicholeh7 @lilmou5ie  @tamedhearts  @divaanya  @6ixx6ixx  @ratedrkohardychick91  @floregrohlssard  @oldschoolimagineblog  @thanks2pete  @abaldboi  @liith-ium  @caos18blog  @ytwahsog  @scarecrowmax  @random-internet-user-4471  @solohqrry  @sparxx27  @kaitieskidmore1  @cruecifymesixx    @meetthesixxter   @sublimeprincesswasteland  @arianareirg  @girlnight-terror
@fancywasmyname1  @teller258316  @ggorehorror  @blowinmeupwithherlove  @xrosegoldwolfx  @mylifeisjustafeverdream  @redlipscrystalskies14 @str4nge-haze @reigns420 @sixxseconds2love @leatherandheels @dogmom2014 @allyouneedislove-mp3 @n0-self-c0ntro1 @viinceneil
.
.
.
"More Than One Way to Get to Hell" -- 1986
"Tansy, come on, now we don't have all damn day to get this finished." Diane calls from the other side of the door while I'm grasping Tansy's shaking hand while she adds finishing sprays of hairspray to her curls. 
"Tansy," I start. 
"C-Can you hand me my purse?" She asks me softly and I nod, handing the little black purse to her. 
She pulls an unlabeled bottle out, opening the lid and pouring two pills into her palm. 
"Tansy--"
"--I overdid it on coke earlier, Viv, if I don't calm my shit I'm gonna embarrass myself on national television." 
"Tansy!" Her mom barks. 
She takes the pills and swallows them down with her juice, standing up and walking to her dressing room door. 
"Thank fuck, come on." Her mom tugs at her arm to take her to the sound tech and he hooks her up to her mic. 
"Mama, I'm nervous." She takes harbored breaths. 
"No need to be nervous, Tansy. You're just interacting with a man in front of a camera. Let's not pretend you don't do the same thing every night." She mumbles to her and I glare at her mother, horrified. 
"I feel like I'm gonna puke." Tansy says next. 
"No, no, look at me." Diane looks her in the eyes. "You are not going to screw this up. You are going to go out there and get more exposure to get more people talking about you, to get more offers, to get more money. We do what has to be done to get what we want, and what we have to do isn't always what we want to do, but--" 
"--But it has to be done." Tansy finishes for her, defeated. 
"Exactly." She says to Tansy, fixing her smudged lipstick. "You already embarrass me on a daily basis, Tansalyn, and you will not embarrass me today. Not over this." She demands.
"Our first guest is a well-known model to men, and some women, here in America. In a span of just four years she has appeared in 56 issues of Playboy and counting, declared the magazine's most consistent model, was very recently announced as 'Playmate of the Year: Miss 1985,' and was the muse for the 1983 Def Leppard hit, 'Photograph.' With no sign of slowing down anytime soon--not that any of us want her to--please, give a very warm welcome to the very beautiful, Tansy Lyn." 
Tansy takes a heavy breath inward, and I give her a smile. 
"You got this, go." I assure her and she nods, holding back tears, seemingly programming her mind into autopilot, a scarily convincing, beaming smile on her face as she steps out, waving at the audience. 
I watch her on the monitor, and my heart breaks. 
She deserves an Oscar. 
Diane watches, too, evaluating her in her mind. 
"How are you?" David asks Tansy, kissing her cheek before the two sit down. 
"I'm good." Tansy replies, crossing one leg over the other. "Hi, everyone." She waves again to the crowd and they whistle and cheer. 
"Now, when they told me you'd be on, um, I did some fact checking, as one does for an interview," he starts. 
"Okay." She replies. 
"And I want to get the record straight on your name, because I've heard Tansy Lyn, and I've heard Tansalyn, which the second option is just a mouthful so…"
"Well, my nickname is Tansy and originally my name was supposed to be Tansy and my middle name was supposed to be Lyn."
"Don't you dare." Her mother sneers quietly to the monitor. 
"But my dad had been drinking a little bit when my mom's water broke and so when it came to naming me, they had decided on Tansy Lyn Reilen, but my mom was in recovery, resting, and my dad couldn't write very well because he was drunk and so he asked a nurse for help and she asked him what my name was going to be so she could write it in herself, and he said 'Tansy Lyn,' little did he realizing he was slurring. So my legal name is Tansalyn." 
"Oh, my God." Diane squeezes her eyes shut. 
"And you reworked it to Tansy Lyn." 
"Yes." 
He tries not to laugh, but the audience doesn't hold back, not that she minds at all. 
"Wow, well, Tansalyn, I know you're busy and so the fact you were able to be here really means a lot, so thank you, again, for being here. Although I'm not so sure it was too far out of the way for you." 
"No, no, not at all." She assures him. 
"Because you live here, don't you?" He asks. "Or are you back in L.A.?" 
"I mainly live here, and then I go back home often to visit and stuff if I don't have work." She explains. 
"And you work a lot." He states. 
"Not that much but--" 
She quits talking when he raises his brows, making the audience laugh. 
"You don't work that much? Are you kidding me?" He leans down and grabs a magazine, holding it up on the desk for the camera and crowd to see. "This is you in your first issue of Playboy." He tells her, flipping through it to find her picture.
"Oh, Lord." She groans before he shows the audience. "Can you do that?!" She asks next, as her naked body is on display, but the monitor shows her bare chest blurred out. 
"Now, this was October of '83, and how old were you when this was taken?" 
"Just turned 18." She explains, her face turning slightly red under her makeup. 
"18, and since then," he starts piling on more and more magazines and men throughout the crowd yell and clap and whistle, Tansy tightly closing her eyes and chuckling nervously, "you've gotten Miss July of '85." He puts that issue aside, before grabbing a final one from the top of the tower of Playboys. "And this is the more recent one, your shoot for 'Miss 1985'." He says next, grabbing several magazines at once and putting them back behind his desk before sitting down and holding it up to show her on the cover. "Absolutely beautiful." He comments. 
"They edit and airbrush and everything but thank you anyways." She exhales, rubbing her lips together. 
"Well, we don't have editing and airbrush and everything in person and I'm telling you, you are a very pretty woman." He assures her and she smiles. 
"Thank you." She replies. 
"So, you started only four and half-ish years ago, and you've been in every issue since then?" He asks and she nods. 
"Yes. Some form or fashion I've been in every one." 
"But you don't work a lot." He reminds her what she said earlier, sarcastically.
"I meant no model works a regular 9 to 5." She clarifies. 
"Got it, got it." He puts the magazine down. "It couldn't be like a 9 to 5 because when else would you all  find the time to go out and party with rockstars?"
"Not all of us party with rockstars." I assure him. 
"So this isn't you?" He holds up a picture with Tansy, Robin Crosby, Nikki, and Jon Bon Jovi. 
"I didn't say I didn't party with them, I said not all models do." She explains while he and the audience chuckles. 
"Now, I know, I think, this fella is Jovi." David points to Jon and she nods. "The rest my mind blanks on." 
"Jon, who's obviously sings for Bon Jovi, and then Robbin Crosby, he plays guitar for Ratt, and then Nikki Sixx, who plays bass for--"
"--The Church of Satan's worship team." David cuts her short and she laughs, along with the audience. 
"No, no. No." She states. "Mötley Crüe." 
"Ah, tomato, tomoto." He shrugs and she shakes her head a little. 
"What was happening here?" He asks, referring to the photo and the camera zooms in on it. 
"I think, honestly, Nikki paid rent on time for once and just invited a bunch of people over to celebrate it." She explains. 
"So, there doesn't need to be a reason to drink and party and 'what not' when you're a rockstar." 
"Not really, no."
"When do these guys have time to write songs, then?" 
"I've seen them buckle down and get to work when they need to."
"Really?" 
"Yeah." 
"And you buckle down, too, obviously."
"Well, I--"
"--I want to know what your boyfriend thinks of all of this." He says next and she raises her brows. 
"Oh, he loves it." She tells him. 
"I bet he does." 
"No, really, he does, he's very proud." She continues.
"He isn't jealous or anything like that?" 
"To an extent but he understands that this is my job and I've always wanted to do it since I was a little girl and so he supports me completely." She nervously scratches at the back of her neck with her freshly done nails. 
"You've always wanted to model nude since you were little?" Letterman asks for clarification and she looks slightly stumped by the question, opening her mouth to speak, but nothing coming out. 
"Speak, Tansy, damnit." Her mom whispers to herself. 
Tansy starts laughing off her shock. 
"Modeling in general." She tells him. 
"Oh, oh, good." He grins. "So, your mother is here with you, Diane."
"Yes." 
"She's so lovely." He says and she smiles. 
"Thank you, she is. I love her to death." 
"She seems very...um…focused." He adds. 
"Very much. She keeps me in check, she always has."
"Oh, I bet. Were you ever in sports or anything like that?" 
"I cheered in high school, and did competitive cheer-nastics, and competed in beauty pageants--not that that's a sport but just to give you an idea of where she learned to keep her thumb on me to keep me in line." 
"That's where I was getting at because she very much seems like the type to keep your eyes on the prize." 
"Oh, yes." 
"What does she think of your career as of now?" 
"She's my manager so I don't think she has any qualms with what I do because if she did she wouldn't be as involved." She shifts her legs. 
That was an understatement. 
I realized over years of witnessing her mother contribute to the toxic shitshow starring Tansy as the lead, that I didn't quite know Tansy's mom as well as I had thought. 
I'd later find out things such as this…
"Competition is in two weeks and you call that a front tuck? Tansy, I've seen drag queens do better than that." 
...And this…
"You being first runner up in a pageant full of sand lizards and beached whales is the reason your father drowned in his own vomit."
"I was five when he died, mom." 
"And eleven years later you're still proving you aren't worth the money I spend to make you a winner." 
…Also…
"He knocked that slut Tami up, didn't he?" 
"I don't want to talk about it, Mama." 
"Just say 'yes' or 'no' so I can know whether I won my bet on it or not." 
...And...
"I slept with your ex-boyfriend, Tansy, big deal." 
"He was the love of my life, Mama, what the hell were you thinking?!" 
"Oh, Jesus, he was with you for two years, Tansy, get over yourself. It's not like it would have lasted to begin with."
"Seriously?!"
"You would've eventually found out I was giving him blowjobs when he'd come over to see you, anyway, because if I didn't do it, it wouldn't have gotten done right. Now wipe those damn crocodile tears." 
…Last but not least…
"I wouldn't stay with a man who let his friends abuse me, you know. I don't know why you're too weak to just leave him."
"Because he said it's not gonna happen again, mom. Just drop i--ow! What the hell?!" 
"I told you last time I slapped the piss out of you it wouldn't happen again. Just because he says it doesn't mean a thing…ugh, and quit wearing so much goddamn makeup. I'm tired of my palm being covered in gunk every time. And quit crying. You can pose with your pussy out but God forbid you handle a little corporal punishment." 
Tansy's rehab therapist had her work cut out for her...for sure. 
"And your dad?" David questions next.
"He passed when I was five, so…"
"...I'm sorry to hear that." 
"No, don't be. I'm sure he's proud of me. I know that might be hard to believe for some dads, like, your daughter being in Playboy, but he'd always told me I could always do whatever it was I wanted to do with my dreams and even if he's not proud of what I'm doing, he's definitely proud of me going after and achieving what it was that I wanted." 
22 notes · View notes
tvfanatic · 3 years
Text
Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 favorite works (fics, art, edits, etc.) you’ve created this year and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you’ve brought into the world in 2020. If you don’t have five published works, that’s fine! Include ideas/drafts/whatever you like that you’ve worked on/thought about, and talk a little about them instead! Remember, this is all about self-love and positive enthusiasm, so fuck the rules if you need to. Have fun, and tag as many fellow creators as you like so they can share the love! <3
Thanks for tagging me @aahaanaa!!
1. Rivers and Roads - might just be my most favorite thing I’ve ever written        Summary: When Veronica gets the call from the hospital that her husband is awake, she fully expects him to greet her with a teasing remark about her choice in timing to go home and shower. What she doesn't expect is to be greeted by the 17-year-old boy who used to push her buttons in all the wrong ways. Roughly based on the Chuck series finale, Veronica has to try and get Logan to fall in love with her again.
2. When Logan Met Veronica - I wrote this fic faster than I’ve written anything in my life (thank you trope-a-palooza) but it’s also the most fun I’ve ever had writing something.                                                                                  Summary: "Can two friends sleep together and still love each other in the morning?" AU based off of the movie When Harry Met Sally. When Mac introduces her two friends who are moving to New York at the same time, they immediately butt heads. Logan poses the theory that men and women can't be friends because sex always gets in the way and Veronica sets out to prove him wrong. As the years pass and Logan and Veronica can't seem to escape each other in the city, they manage to form an actual friendship. But will it stay just a friendship for long?
3. Have Yourself a Tinder Little Christmas - love a good Christmas fic and this one was also a lot of fun to write.                                                          Summary: Veronica is stuck in New York working over the holidays and in a moment of loneliness, matches with Logan on Tinder. They realize neither of them have plans on Christmas and decide to meet up for the first time and spend it together so neither of them have to be alone. AU where they're strangers prior to this. Part of LoVecember 2020.
4. Dust in the Wind - still ongoing, but it was started in 2020. If you hadn’t heard, I lost my dad in March so writing this has been a bit cathartic for me. Thankfully our circumstances weren’t as dramatic as Veronica’s and Keith’s, but still it’s helped in its own weird little way.                                                Summary: "Sometimes the person you need most, is the one you'd least expect." Set as an AU during the movie timeframe, Keith dies unexpectedly and Logan comes back into Veronica's life after nine years of radio silence to help her get through.
5. You Again - my first VM multi-chapter awww. I have such fond memories of writing it and still would really love to write a sequel for this universe.   Summary: "It’s the scent that throws her off her axis first. The unmistakable smell of that cologne, the one she used to wrap herself up in and curl into. The one she used to hate as soon as it invaded her air space. The one she later sought after for comfort and release. Logan’s cologne. "During her final year of law school at Columbia, Veronica runs into Logan during Fleet Week. She finds herself faced with the choice to continue on with her life without him, or to let him back in to try and make things work again.
If you see this on your dash and want to do it, consider yourself tagged!!
6 notes · View notes
jjsjuiceboxx · 4 years
Text
REOCCURRING WOMAN
REQUESTED FOR: @tweedlydumbtweedlydoo
SUMMARY- reader is on the obx cast dating Drew/Rudy and a certain extra on the show is getting to close for comfort and posting photos on their insta with the boys as if they’re dating.
A/N: I’ve learned how to do tumblr right if that’s even a thing so I’m just making it better by decoration and all that jazz ( the stories are all the same just badazzled. ) happy reading :) also these other women I made them up they don’t exist except the last girl was an extra in the show ( no hate to her ) it just fit very well lmao.
Tumblr media
☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎
DREW:
You and the gang are back in Charleston, South Carolina the corona virus pushed back Filming for a few months which was a blessing in disguise for Jonas to work in a script and to make sure locations where set to film and to have anything else needed to be there, with a new season means new extras you and the cast always invite them out to hang so they feel welcomed and to make new friends.
You’re into your second month of Filming season two everyone knows you and Drew are together the fans are so loving and excited you guys are together everyone thinks you guys are soo cute over the past two months back one extra who plays a kook Kelce is currently dating likes to flirt with Drew often Drew doesn’t flirt back but he is nice and doesn’t push her away. It doesn’t really bother you that much because all it really is is some slight arm touching and laughing at everything he says even if it isn’t a joke like an annoying school girl, but other then that you really like her.
You were currently with the girls madelyn and Madison talking about clothes and planning for a girls week when all of a sudden Madison shouts out “Oh my god I can’t believe that bitch”
“What what happened?” Madelyn asked worried Madison just gave you guys her phone where you saw two people strolling on the beach but the person tagged made your heart stop
@Coleenjonesz
Tumblr media
Liked by: @drewstarkey @jonasjpate @thedeionsmith @austinnorth and 22,566 others
@Coleenjonesz: our weekly beach strolls are my favorite😊🖤.
@drewstarkey: always having fun with you🤩
@jonasjpate: love when cast mates hang out.
@thekook: wait but isn’t drew with @Y/N ??
View all 15,300 comments
You weren’t following her so this was all news to you, you took the phone from madelyn’s hands and went through her other photos most of her recent ones was of her and Drew and she always had some cute little flirty caption to go with it he had liked everyone single one and almost commented on all of them.
You looked up with tears in your eyes at your two friends who looked mad and also sad because you were hurt. You handed Madison her phone back and she quickly unfollowed Coleen but I’m doing so a story popped up that she had posted.
Madison quickly gave the phone back to you so you could view the story when you clicked on it you saw a beautiful beach that the sun was setting on and then the camera moved over and there stood your boyfriend with coleen on his back and they were both laughing the camera stopped as they both fell.
“Oh my god I can’t believe this, what do I do? I can’t call him he is with her right now and he would probably not even answer considering he is occupied” you said as tears fell down your face. Madelyn quickly scooped you into her arms rubbing your back smoothingly Madison jumped onto the bed and joined in on the group hug.
“Wait till before the dinner we have planned she won’t be there and you guys are getting ready together right?”Madison questions you just nod to what she says. “So talk to him then explain that it makes you uncomfortable and stuff, and hear him out.”
“Yeah maybe it isn’t what it looks like at all, she is probably doing it for more followers.” Madelyn rolled her eyes.
“Ok yeah, you’re right I’ll just talk to him” you sighed hugging your two best friends smiling slightly.
Later that night you drove to you and Drew’s shared apartment to get ready for this dinner, you walked into the apartment to see drew on his phone laying on the couch “oh there is my favorite girl” drew said scooping you up in his arms, “Drew look we need to talk” you said awkwardly not looking him in his eyes.
“Ok what’s up?”
“What’s going on with you and that extra Coleen? The weekly beach walks her posting photos like she is dating you? I know what she does isn’t in your control but you can tell her to stop”
Drew stood up from where he was sitting “she is just a friend I don’t see the problem In that she wants to make it as more then just in extra so I gave her some advice, and we realized we have similar interests so we just hangout and the beach walks are not weekly we don’t hang out nearly as much as her instagram shows it, come on you should know this because I’m with you” drew exasperated getting mad. “I don’t care if she is just a friend Drew be here friend that’s great help her with work I don’t care, what bothers me is she take photos of you and with you like she is your girlfriend and then I look like a dumbass to the world for not noticing it” you said raising your hands up
“Baby, who cares what others think I know that I love you and only you and I know you love me so why do you care what people think?” Drew asked “no I’m telling you I feel like a dumbass” you said tears in your eyes “do you think I would cheat on you ?” When you don’t answer he raises his voice “DO you think I would cheat on you?” He asks again just more demanding
“No I don’t think you would I trust you I don’t trust others she clearly gives 0 fucks that you have a girlfriend, she acts like it’s not a thing and just throws herself on you and you catch her and are there because you’re soo oblivious to what is happening” you said pulling your phone up to go to her Instagram only to find out you’re blocked. “She blocked me on Instagram drew, who does that unless you have something to hide?” You cried out.
Drew could tell this was really bothering you and suddenly his anger sub sided, “hey hey look at me, you’re not a dumbass. I didn’t know this stuff bothered you she is just my friend there is nothing going on there and there never will be I love you and only you. I just didn’t see what you were seeing but I’ll speak to her and get the photos taken down and tell her to back off a little ok?” Drew said hugging you and kissing your head
You nodded your head sniffling a little “now I have to text the girls and let them know it’s ok” you said getting up to get your phone that you had thrown across the room.
Drew burst out laughing “you girls are weird, hold on babe let me text the boys and gossip about it I also need them to help me pick out my outfit for tonight I have 3 options” Drew said in a girly voice mocking you, Madelyn, and Madison “ oh ahaha you’re so fucking funny” you smiled throwing a pillow at him.
☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎
RUDY:
You had just gotten back in Charleston, South Carolina to start filming season 2 of obx, the funny thing about filming obx is that you and everyone else forget you’re even working it’s really just a bunch of family goofing around. You and Rudy decided to drive down from LA to Charleston just the two of you, it was lots of fun taking lots of photos of the beautiful views and taking candid photos of Rudy without his knowledge and him doing it as well just enjoying one another’s company.
You’re on your first week of filming and so far so good you love being back at the beach with your friends catching up and making new memories, one of the extras from season 1 came back she played a touron that chugged some alcohol with Rudy as JJ and a small glimpse of a hookup was in season 1 her name was Peyton belcher, she didn’t have any lines not really so her character is kinda unknown she was called back this season to re claim her small touron roll.
Peyton wasn’t close with the cast but everyone is familiar of her so we were all happy to see her back. Rudy and you have been dating for a year now almost 2 now you played his love interest which made you guys closer and you couldn’t help but fall in love with one another, you and Rudy chase and Maddie are the biggest ships on the show your Instagram is always Bum barded with nice comments on you and Rudy’s relationship and also amazing edits of you guys you love them all and it fills you with so much happiness.
You were all on your first day off since filming again JD, Madison, you, chase, Rudy, and Madelyn. Were all on a boat drinking and enjoying the sun you were laying on a towel while Rudy had his arms wrapped around you showing JD and Chase a video he captured on your drive from LA to Charleston. You felt your phone buzz from beside you, you noticed it was a Instagram notification. Yes you have your Instagram notifications on because you forget to turn it off and you like being able to be in contact with your fans, you have made quite a few friendships with fans and talk daily.
You opened your new dm to see a fan account request to send you a message of course you accepted it always happy to talk to new people
Obxlover: hey I don’t want to bother you or scare you but I saw someone post a picture today of her and Rudy looking a little to cozy and I just wanted you to know, it’s probably nothing anyway i love you and the show. I’ll send the pic right now.
Y/N: hey you’re not bothering me at all I’m so glad you love the show and I love you too.
Obxlover: ( sent you a photo from @peyton.belcher )
You clicked the link to the photo.
Peyton.belcher:
Tumblr media
Liked by: @lilah.pate @jonasjpate @coop.pate @obx @rudyshoe and 15,144 others.
Peyton.belcher: back in Charlie with one of my favorites ever @obx😉
View all 10,600 comments
You looked at the photo for a minute then back at your boyfriend “hey babe, when was this taken?” You asked him showing the phone up to him he took it from you looking at it confused “oh my god this was from when we did season one” he said laughing “I don’t know why she posted it tho considering we don’t talk barely but whatever” he said handing the phone back to you brushing it off like it’s nothing you shrugged your shoulders not really caring and continuing on with your fun with your friends.
Throughout the day on the boat you hear your phone pinging with notifications you pick it up wondering what is so important to see tons of people and can accounts sending you the same picture but some with screenshots of someone asking who is in the photo with Peyton and she responded saying the cutest boy she knows with a love heart next to it. You get irritated and mad and just turn your phone off to stop hearing and seeing all the posts and comments and questions of concern for your relationship with Rudy.
You all finally reach your destination being a restaurant on the water where you can pull up and dock your boat and just walk in, you still annoyed pick all your things up quickly and make your way off the boat as quick as possible walking ahead of everyone else “hey uh is she good or?” JD asks no one in particular “she probably saw what peyton said about Rudy being the cutest guy she knows under the post she posted fans are dming me worrying about you guys relationship so I’m sure her phone is blowing up she is probably just frustrated” Madison suggested trying to catch up to you.
“Dude are you with Peyton?” Chase stops walking and asks Rudy who just stares at him shocked, “are you serious right now why would you think that? That photo was from a year ago I would never ever hurt YN ever !!” Rudy yelled looking chase dead in the eyes you and Madison were still making your way to the restaurant but stopped when you heard Rudy yelling which is not like him at all you both look at one another and turn around to see what’s happening.
“If I thought you were cheating imagine how y/n feels right now, I’m sure her phone is blowing up with people saying things about you guys and Peyton I’m sorry you’re mad but it’s the first thing that came to mind I mean it looks like it from Instagram” chase said defensively
You and Madison started walking over slowly to the scene next to madelyn and JD who were watching awkwardly off to the side. “I’m not cheating on her I would never cheat on anyone ever ! I’m In love with y/n man I want to marry her and have so many kids why would I fuck something up with some girl I barely know ?? And why are you getting mad at me for something peyton posted !” Rudy screamed in chases face Rudy was on the brink of tears you could tell cause he was slightly shaking
You dropped your bags and ran to Rudy pushing him away from chase and pulled him in your arms stroking his hair “I know you weren’t cheating that never even crossed my mind babe, yeah I’m annoyed by my phone blowing up and being told you’re with her and not me and so on and so forth and it’s annoying that she is saying all these flirty things but I was never upset with you” you whispered to Rudy but the others could hear because they all smiled and wrapped each other in a hug watching the scene unfold “I’m in love with you to but I’m only ( your age ) give it a few years before you propose yeah ?” You question looking at him
“Yeah ok, I love you” Rudy says grabbing your hands and taking you to the restaurant for some food.
26 notes · View notes
pumpkinpaix · 4 years
Note
9, 13, 14, 20? :O
9. Are you more of a drabble or a longfic kind of writer? Pantser or plotter? Do you wish you were the other?
ALAS I AM APPARENTLY A LONGFIC WRITER,,,, or like, a very short tiny vignette, no in-between.  I used to be incapable of writing anything long (all my shit from like 2007-2012 was under like 5k pretty much), but now it’s like. fuck! every story i want to write ends up spiralling out into like 50k+ projects /o\ I’m definitely a plotter. I wish I could be more spontaneous, but I do much, much better when I have some kind of endgame in mind. I can kinda fudge the middle, but the beginning and end have to be set :/
13. Do you share your writing online? (Drop a link!) Do you have projects you’ve kept just for yourself?
yep! here’s my ao3, which is pretty much just mdzs right now, but I’ve got some Saint Seiya stuff planned 👀 truly getting ready to return to my roots. saint seiya was the first fandom i wrote for! :D if you’re looking for my tumblr ficlets, I believe the tag is #myficlet
however, in terms of original prose and poetry, it mostly all just stays in folders on my hard drive. :’D I’ve entered some poetry and prose into local writing contests and won before, so my work exists out in the ether, but one day I’d like to have published books :’) I have so much poetry that kind of just sits around, and i’m like maybe?? it would be cool to share some of it? but all of it needs more editing and refining, I almost never edit my poetry it just kinda comes out in a mess and then I don’t look at it for years, so none of it is like good. a lot of it has potential, I think, but I have like, maaaaybe one poem that I would say is almost good lol.
I have like five nano novels hanging out as well, so just like. hundreds of k of words stacked up over the last decade and a half :’D
14. At what point in writing do you come up with a title?
depends! sometimes I think of a title and a concept at the same time and try to weave them together. sometimes it comes in the middle, and sometimes I’m scrambling right at the end. sometimes I’m struggling for the whole fucking time (me with lxc fic right now good god this title has been eluding me for MONTHS)
20. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)
okay, since you’re the one asking, I’m going to talk about my painting selections in this little tumblr not-fic i wrote about hyoshun even though I know you don’t really do the classic series, but hey.
I’ve seen both Aivazovsky’s Ninth Wave and Repin’s Sadko in person, but I’ve studied all of the paintings that were included. I’ve never been to the Tretyakov, so I haven’t seen any of those in person, but GOD i want to. All of the paintings that I talked about are some of my favorite 19th century russian works except Sadko, which is nice, but not like, one of my favorites. I just like it.
here is why I chose those works in particular:
1. Aivazovsky’s Ninth Wave is a fucking experience to witness. It’s impossible to convey the presence of it, the size of it, on a computer screen. you feel swallowed up by the ocean and the light and the terror and the beauty of it--even as you face death, you also face the sun. you know, just like. peak sublime. I really think Shun would find the concept of the sublime very moving, given what we see of his character in canon: he cares, deeply and viscerally about the inherent value of life, but sees himself as small within it. And I don’t necessarily think that scares him so much as it awes him sometimes. He knows his own value and strength, respects risk, and respects sacrifice. I think would relate a lot to the Romantic artists who looked out at the vastness of the world and reacted with wonder and terror.
I think Shun very much feels a deep sense of wonder at being alive, of existing, and that he takes that very seriously. idk, there’s that moment at the 12 temples, when he stops to smell the roses at Aphrodite’s temple. it’s like, yeah, we’re in the midst of fighting for our lives, but god. there is such beauty here. facing the sun even as you face death. I think he would like that painting a lot.
2. Knowing Repin’s other work, I find the Sadko really beautiful and charming and surprising! It’s such a fun subject for a painting--instead of painting a religious scene, it’s a scene from a bylina, about a man named Sadko. I believe here is the scene where he’s asked to choose a wife from a line of beautiful sea maidens, but all he wants is to return to the surface and live with his human wife that he loves so much. and it’s okay! he does! the painting is lovely and just really visually stunning. and there’s something really moving about the way that sadko has eyes only for his wife on the surface, dressed in plain clothes, out of reach, even as these dazzling women laden with jewels parade before him. aaaaaaaaaa. anyways, I think Shun would like this painting too, for those reasons!!
3. Now the Tretyakov paintings that I’ve never seen, but GOD they just. they get me right in the heart. first, Conscience, Judas, by Nikolai Ge. it’s hard for me to describe exactly what I’m feeling when I look at it, but that really vicious white on Judas’s robe, the coldness of it, the alienation of a traitor. I want to weep for judas. I am not christian, so my interpretations of the bible are largely moot and uninformed, but I’ve always been intrigued by the thought that like--without judas’ betrayal, christ could not have risen. without the fall, there cannot be a triumph. that doesn’t mean that judas was acting for that reason, i certainly don’t know enough about biblical studies to make any kind of interpretation, but in the sense that like--christ had to fall and judas was the instrument of it. imagine the remorse of knowing. there’s something very human and sad about watching everything you loved and betrayed walk away from you into the darkness while you are left behind. without you, it could never have happened. i don’t know. there’s something about the nature of unforgiveable sins in there. i think about Shun’s speech to Balron Lune and I think he would feel some kind of way looking at this painting.
4. Christ in the Garden of Gethsemane, by Perov--this painting kills me every time i see it. again, not christian, but like. the agony of christ. god. the nature of sacrifice. knowing that you must suffer and die, but oh! you would rather live, please if only you could live. let this cup pass me by. that on its own is already so much to sit with. and I think Shun, as well as the other saints, for very obvious reasons, probably have a lot of complicated emotions surrounding the concept of sacrifice and doubt. and idk, whenever there’s a moment when you feel like you are reaching through time and space to realize that someone out there has felt the way you are feeling, it’s like. that’s a lot. it hurts.
5. The Demon Seated, Vrubel: aaaaaaaaaaa. one of my favorite paintings!!! the demon is beautiful, and the demon is terribly melancholic, and the demon is alone, and the demon is powerful sitting amidst the blooming flowers and the setting sun. the gentle face in contrast with the muscular body. the inherent negative aspect of a demon in contrast with the subject’s heroism. I think that this would remind shun very much of his own brother, who is so angry and violent and dark, but whom he still sees as gentle and loving still. i think shun would look at this painting and see ikki sitting there, alone, watching the sunset on some distant shore. as for hyoga, I think it would be hard for him to see this without seeing shun after the hades arc: a kind and beautiful man, a demon by nature not by choice. someone soft made unwillingly hard. a murderer who would ferry even centipedes out of the house to safety.
ANYWAYS. I LOVE ART and i project all my feelings onto shun thank you for coming to my ted talk
writing asks
13 notes · View notes