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incorrect-the-foxhole-court · 4 years

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Northern Road Trip

This is my piece for the AFTG Gift exchange! I went for Andriel coz im a complete Andriel junkie, but i couldnt resist a little Renison on the side XD

This is for @andthenthefirenationattacked - I hope you like it! I’m sorry it’s not very good but I tried! (And if you wanna talk or fangirl about aftg at any point, i’m definitely around for that!)

Neil couldn’t remember a time he had felt this safe. Which, he had to admit, made no sense considering his current situation. Despite having family in England, an uncle who had once saved his life, the UK had never been a place that had screamed safety. And yet, here he was, standing in the middle of an endless stretch of rolling green hills that looked like they had been taken from one of Matt’s fantasy novels, and he felt…safe. It was as much a disquieting feeling as hope had once been.

The sky was a bright, forget-me-not blue that, after only five days in the country, he already knew was a rare blessing. Fluffy white clouds scudded across the sky, and the relief that they weren’t even a little grey had been unexpectedly strong when they had woken up this morning. Two cars idled behind him, the engines rumbling softly, and those inside were already betting on the upcoming games outcome and snacking on junk food that Kevin had already tried to throw out four times over.

Neil sucked in a deep breath, feeling the cold air settle in his lungs like shards of ice. Beautiful, this country, but cold. And wet. This was the first day they had been there that it hadn’t rained.

He could hear his old team behind him, laughing and joking, teasing Andrew for their stopping. It hadn’t been Andrew that had wanted to stop, but the goalie knew Neil too well now – had feigned car sickness to cover Neil’s need to see something. To see something other than exy courts and press rooms from the place his mother had come from. The woman had been cold and cruel and protective and beautiful, and standing there now, in the place she had always talked about, in Rivington, he could understand. The people he had met from around here felt like they had been born from the place itself. He could almost feel his mother in the wind’s cold fingers as it raked through his hair and cut straight through his winter coat to chill the blood in his veins.

“Neil! Come on! Andrew says he’s okay to keep going now,” Matt shouted, a grin on his face that was far too smug and pleased to merely be teasing.

Dan smacked him in the ribs as she disappeared around the other side of their hire car and slid into the driver’s seat. And then smacked the wheel in frustration, got out and went round to the passenger side door, grumbling about stupid English cars. Neil tuned out Matt and Allison’s teasing, both of them needling Dan about still not being used to which side of the car to get in, and turned to the other car. Renee smiled at Andrew before going to join the others.

Neil slid into the backseat next to Andrew, Aaron on the goalie’s other side, Kevin up front and Nicky driving. Within thirty minutes of driving, Andrew was asleep, head tipped back against the back of the seat – Neil wasn’t surprised, Andrew had barely slept since the flight, as though he was more scared than Neil that some relative would show up at their hotel. It wasn’t a secret they were in the UK; the whole world had known this is where they would be. The press had been covering the US exy team’s trip to the UK in excruciating detail for weeks. They had already had their games in Glasgow and London, and tomorrow, the last game of Us vs. UK, would take place in Manchester. London had been an easy win for the US Court, Andrew had barely bothered to try. Glasgow had been significantly more difficult. It had taken bribing Andrew to lock down the goal for them to come close to winning – even then it hadn’t been enough; they’d lost by two points.

Tomorrow’s game would decide who would face the Chinese team. And the old team from Palmetto State had come out to show their support as Kevin, Andrew and Neil, played their last UK game of the season, fighting to advance closer to the title of ‘Exy International Champions’. Kevin had been training and planning nonstop. It had taken Andrew’s knives to convince him to have this day off.

“Erm…Neil…?” Nicky asked, voice tight. Neil dragged his eyes away from staring out the window as the North sped by, and met Nicky’s worried eyes in the rear-view mirror. “Satnav is freaking out.”

“Get Andrew to fix it,” Aaron grunted, “he’s the tech wonder boy.”

“Waking Andrew up in a car has never been a good idea,” Nicky warned, no doubt thinking of that time all those years ago.

Neil could feel Aaron’s smirk as the man reached over and tapped his twin on the shoulder closest to Neil. From habit, Neil’s hand was out waiting as Andrew jolted from sleep, one hand instinctively reaching out. Their fingers twined together and held on tight. No elbow in the stomach, no fists flying, not anymore – they had been sleeping in the same bed now for nearly two years; Andrew was too used to being woken by Neil’s nightmares to react violently. Now it was a grasping hand and white knuckled grip, each proving to the other that they are here – that they are safe. On Andrew’s other side, Aaron huffed in frustration and turned his attention back to the steady stream of messages between him and Katelyn.

“Satnav isn’t working properly,” Neil explained quietly, and Andrew shook off his grip, leaning forward to take it from Kevin.

“Going old school,” Nicky muttered to himself. “Gonna have to use these damn stupid road signs.”

Neil didn’t bother to watch what Andrew was doing to fix the machine – he had learnt a long time ago that when Andrew couldn’t sleep, he and one of the cats curled up on the sofa with an instruction manual of some sort. Andrew couldn’t sleep most nights. By this point, Andrew’s eidetic memory had given him the ability to fix almost anything technological.

It took them another hour and a half to reach the Lake District. They were aiming for a shop that the Northern players on the UK team hadn’t stopped raving about since the team meets had started. By the time they finally arrived, it was raining again.

They parked in a garden centre opposite a tiny little place called ‘The Grasmere Gingerbread Shop’ and stared out through rain-streaked windows. Nicky’s phone started ringing. He took the sat nav out of its holder, tossed it onto Kevin’s lap before balancing his phone in the slot instead. Allison’s face appeared on the screen, and then the rest of the others.

“So, how do we decide who goes out into the rain to get the damn gingerbread we drove for two hours to come and try?” Allison asked and Renee, in the driver’s seat beside her, tucked a few stray blonde curls behind her ear, dragging a smile from the otherwise annoyed face.

“Flip for it?” Nicky suggested.

Matt lost to Renee. Dan lost to Matt. Allison rolled her eyes and picked at a perfectly manicured nail, but called heads when she went up against Dan, only to lose. Storm clouds gathered on her face as she waited for the other car to decide who would flip against her.

Aaron called heads, Allison, tails. Aaron won.

Neil hadn’t heard swearing like that for a long time. He couldn’t help but smile. He had missed them all. He loved being on Court and he loved his team and exy, and playing with Andrew and Kevin, but he had missed being a fox.

Renee went with Allison, smiling as the blonde tried and failed to hide under the trees from the rain. Neil could hear through the cracked window Andrew was smoking through as Allison cursed everyone and everything for her having forgotten an umbrella. Renee just laughed and tugged her in for a kiss. Neil smiled again; it had taken them a long time to realise just how meant for each other they were – but now? Together? They were a sight for sore eyes.

Andrew blew another cloud of smoke past Neil’s face. He couldn’t help the deep inhale as the smoke curled past his nose. Andrew watched, utterly unimpressed – but Neil could read the affection in the stare. Smoke was no longer the reminder of his mother, of the fire, of how it had smelled when her body had burned. Now it was Andrew, it was nights on the roof, the bite of his key in his palm, the feel of a thundering heartbeat beneath his fingertips. Andrew’s knee nudged his, and Neil smiled again.

Allison and Renee got back in the car behind and they drove to Windemere, where they had booked out all the rooms in a little bed and breakfast. The man at the desk was the most English person Neil had ever met. He was the embodiment of every single English stereotype, and Neil couldn’t get away fast enough.

Their rooms were all on the second floor, Dan and Matt disappeared into one room, Allison and Renee into another, Aaron claimed his own room, as did Kevin and Nicky. Nicky was already face timing with Eric before his bedroom door closed. And despite Allison’s usual warning of ‘keep it down’, there were delighted giggles and moans coming from her and Renee’s room.

Neil shook his head, smiling, and followed after Andrew into their room. Andrew was already lighting up next to the window, so Neil dropped the bag by the bottom of the bed and slumped onto the mattress, stripping off his black armbands and dumping them over the edge. He heard Andrew shut the window and the bed dip as he settled nearby. Neil reached a hand up, and Andrew’s fingertips trailed over his bare arms, dipping over every scar and mark.

Neil closed his eyes, even now, years later, most touches on those scars brought back the car lighter, the knife, his father’s axe…

But then Andrew’s lips began tracing every raised bump, slowly washing away the memories one by one, until there was nothing left but the two of them, Andrew’s hands under Neil’s shirt, Andrew’s lips pressed hard to Neil’s, and Neil’s fingers tight in Andrew’s hair.

He didn’t realise how much he needed it until Andrew tugged his t-shirt over his head and slowly but steadily began taking him apart. Neil couldn’t stop the moan that Andrew dragged from deep in his throat as Andrew pushed him harder and faster until Neil’s breathing became ragged and Andrew leaned up to press their lips together as though he could swallow Neil’s hard groans when he fell over the edge. He lay limp and sweating, breathing hard, with Andrew beside him, the man’s expression open and soft in a way he had only seen four times so far.

Neil reached out, “Yes or no?”

Andrew didn’t reply, just pressed his cheek into Neil’s palm and closed his eyes as Neil’s fingers played with the tiny hairs at the nape of Andrew’s neck. He wanted to say something, anything to remind Andrew just how amazing he was – how he always knew what Neil needed, usually before Neil knew himself, how even though Neil had long since learned to stand alone, it felt safe knowing that Andrew was there for him if he needed to lean on someone. But he didn’t have the words.

And he didn’t find them fast enough before Nicky pounded on the bedroom door.

“Come on, lovebirds, Allison ruined her hair to get this gingerbread, and Aaron and I went out for alcohol, come and have a drink and a snack like the old days. But put clothes on first!”

Andrew growled under his breath, but Neil smiled.

“When will he leave me alone?” Andrew said, shaking out his hand and pushing up to sit on the edge of the bed.

“He’s been in Germany with Eric for ten months. He can’t leave you any more alone.”

Andrew just stood and stared down at him a moment. “Come on junkie. Let’s go.”

Neil stood and went to the bathroom, cleaning himself up, before he joined Andrew at the now open door to the bedroom, stood in front of a very irate Kevin.

“We have a game tomorrow. Tomorrow. And they want us to drink and eat and party. Why did they come at all, they’re not playing,” Kevin said, face set; cold and hard.

“Tomorrow will be fine. We’ll win or we’ll lose, but it’ll be fine. Let’s go, it could be fun,” Neil said, shrugging. He’d never felt as safe as he was in that moment and he’d never seen Andrew as relaxed – that was all he needed. All he wanted.

They should take road trips more often.

“Three hundred and seventy-four percent,” Andrew murmured.

Neil didn’t bother to stop the smirk on his face.

----

That’s it! Again, I hope you liked it and I hope it was a good enough gift for you in the exchange! Have a wonderful day!

#aftg #aftg gift exchange #andrew #neil #andriel #the foxes #little sprinkles of renison #coz they too cute #road trip in the uk #in the north of course #in my two favourite places #hell i hope you liked this #i tried to write them #they were REAL hard to write #heres hoping i did the wonderful foxes justice #damn i wish they were real #and that i was a fox #XD

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iamtheempress · 4 years

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Cold Blooded

A Dragon Ball Horror Fic {Part 10}

☆☆☆

Carlie had soon returned to her bedroom and locked it tight. She pulled her cell phone from her purse and tried to call Bulma.

“PLease.. Please answer…” brrrrrr brrrrrr “Please im fucking begging you please… Please Bulma you always answer me….” Bulmas voice pipes up loud and clear and she almost sighs.. Until she finds out its her voicemail.. Fuck…

‘Vegeta..’

She thinks, starting to text Vegeta. She knew that the time chamber works differently inside then out and minutes are ground down to basically days.. It couldnt hurt to try. Her messages always reached him perfectly, Time Chamber or other regions of space for some reason…

“Babe. I need you to come home right now.”

“Im freaking out and i think you were right”

“Somethings really fucked up with Frieza”

“Well...What else was new.”

“He like. Grabbed me with his tail and told me that hes going to protect me.”

“He knew about what happened the other day.”

“Everything!”

“He started telling me that id be better in his hands and i feel like i need to burn my fucking skin off”

“I know its different in the time chamber but please please come and help me…”

“Babe. I know your getting these there all going through…”

“Please. Vegeta. Get Goku to instant transmission to me or something!”

Message not sent.

She felt a sense of absolute loneliness.

A sinking feeling in her stomach Like shes on deathrow, minutes away from lethal injection.

SHe felt an overwhelming urge to throw herself from the window of capsule corp. Only to escape. She knew something was wrong. She should have listened to Vegeta from the get go, the second she met Frieza amicably. “Im so stupid.. Stupid stupid stupid!” She smacked herself repeatedly in the forehead. “Im sorry Vegeta… Im so..-”

She was cut off by the tell tale sign of the power being shut down. The loud hum of the power turning off. Entrenching her in darkness.

All of Capsule Corps lights and window shutters closed slowly. Sealing her away behind Glass and thick metal. No escape. No sense of safety. Alone. But not entirely.

Carlie got up and cracked open the door to her bedroom. Peering down the hallway vacant and void of life. Only the sound of her panicked heart pounding in her ears. She made haste to the hallway to reach her lab. Theres an emergency exit there. Behind the INcinerator. She can make it.

Her thoughts are halted. A bright red light blinks in the vacant corridor, followed by his voice over the intercoms. Like some cruel and ever present god.

“Oh my dear sweet beautiful Carlie… such a kind and gentle soul... a genius like you is once in a life time and id love to make you mine... You wouldnt happen to be running from me are you?” Her eyes snapped to a camera in that hallway aimed at her. A succulent look of dread dripping from her wide doe eyes. “you cannot run from me you little vixen.. you will be mine one way or another.." she sprinted down the hall eyes glimmering with tears. His malicious laughter playing over the intercoms. Loudly.

Just not even several minutes ago she thought of that laughter as charming. Maybe friendly. Now its nothing but sinister and cold.

She swears shes being followed. Frieza follows behind her slowly, the pads of her feet frantically hitting the floor.

"Caaaarlie.. come now.. your only making this much more harder on yourself.. give in and come with me.. youll enjoy being an empress.. youll also enjoy seeing this your simian mate being crushed by my hand, ill make it quick to not sully those beautiful eyes." He muses as he held his hands firm behind his back, sauntering to the frightened woman. "I also do think youll like this form ive taken.."

She turned her head back while pulling the sliding door open with all her strength to see Frieza approaching her in a slow pace. Step. By step. By step. She realized his form was different he was bulkier and a different color by the light of the red flashing alert lights.. its almost a copperish sheen.. his eyes are more pronounced and staring her down.. she can see his bright red pupils from down the fucking hall and it was just as terrifying as his smile.. his sick, twisted smile.

"Running wont get you anywhere.. you will not be abused so horribly by my hand, you will live in the lap of luxury as my pet. My bride. My empress. Empress of the Universe sounds like it would fit you perfectly… What has your ape given you? Bruises.. broken bones. Heartache.. pain. Saiyans only bring pain and care only to fight someone stronger then themselves, Carlie, i should know... I have put an end to not only the doctor who defiled you but several others in your name.."

He froze in the hallway, eyes unblinking. Alpha predator in the wake of the most decadent prey he set his eyes upon. "Your vegeta cannot save you from me.. you will be MINE OHOHOHOHOOO!!!" He threw his head back cackling loudly, loud enough to where it burned into her eardrums and petrified her to her core.

She slammed the hatch behind her and pressed a button to seal the outside world out. Fuck. She needs to get out. Now.

She quickly rushed down the stairs and into the lab only to hear the hatch creak open as the gilded monster pried it open from its locked state.

Mangling metal loudly.

She needs to think FAST to get anything done. To hopefully keep the emperor at bay. She pulls out her phone and sends Vegeta 2 more texts.

“Please….”

“Vegeta. Babe im so fucking scared….”

Message sent.

Tears dripped on her phones screen and all the messages sent at once. Its only a matter of time.

Carlie doesnt have much of that left to spare.

Meanwhile in the Time Chamber~

5 months is the equivalent to what Vegeta and Goku have endured. The first bunch of messages Carlie sent were about 2 monthd before hand. He hadnt known. He never checked. He didnt think anything of it.

Vegeta exits the shower room, fully dressed again and in base form. He was pried from his thoughts when he hears a ping.

Then another.

"Tsk.." he huffs.. 'Must be Carlie' though it is a day in the outside world. Vegeta had gone months without her. He hated how much he missed her. The comfort of mundane everyday conversations.

He grabbed his phone.

Turned it on, and went ghost white. A cry for help.

"KAKAROT." He shouted, leaving the room to run straight into Goku.

"Vegeta?? Whats the problem??" "No time to ask get me to Carlie NOW" He demands grabbing Gokus shoulder, Gokus hand goes to his forehead and….

"KAKAROT now is not the time to joke around get me to-" Gokus face was blanched.

"I cant get a pulse of energy off her…"

☆☆☆

@dragonblobz @lilfriezatyrant @gallickingun @kamehamethot @gonuclear @memevember @msgreenverse @lizardhipsdontlie @thotful-writing @supremeleadershitlord

#vegeta #frieza #frieza x oc #vegeta x oc #cold blooded fic #final girl tw #stalking tw #hunting tw #Gore tw #dbz #dbs #dragon ball fic

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goingsllightlymad · 4 years

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Blinded By Your Light - Part 8. On Storytelling.

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: Y/N is the definition of ordinary. Studying at a medical school as far as she can get from her rainy hometown of Birmingham, she never expected to be shipped off the Flanders when the war was at it’s peak. Much less to meet a handsome young patient with the most beautiful pair of blue eyes she had seen in her life who as fate would have it would fall into her lap.

Wordcount: 6716.

Warnings: Michael is literally the most difficult character to write I swear to God, he just ends up sounding exactly like Tommy so let’s all pretend I have writing skills, okay? (Sorry this took like a millennia and a half to post, I’ve been procrastinating).

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Stopping outside the pub to breathe in the cool summer air, you let the last of the golden sunlight fall upon your closed eyes as you took a moment and then another to collect your scattered thoughts. The footsteps ringing behind you, stopping at your side, were the only sign that Michael was following, as he kept the silence and did not speak at all for a long time.

"I suppose it's all very different." his voice was different to what you had imagined, although you had yet to see his face in the light. It was slow and thoughtful, and the accent was a little lighter, somewhat sharper than the drawl of all the others in Small Heath. Perhaps he had only moved here too, a stranger to this dark world of blood and gore, although perhaps he didn't mind it after all the horrors of the war gone by.

"Yeah. Quieter. More dangerous too, but I suppose that's a given." you kept your eyes closed, regulating your breathing and trying to guess what you would see when you opened them and saw him there. If he would be handsome, but all you saw when you thought of the word was the blue of those eyes and the sharp cheekbones, the dark hair and the tight smile of the man you were trying so very hard to forget. And besides, taking a break from boys for the time being would probably be best for everyone.

"The Peaky's weren't around when you were here?" he seemed genuinely curious, like he was trying to glean details of your past and put you together in his mind like a puzzle that would solve everything.

"Not really, no. It was always happier then, but I s'pose that might just be my memory playing tricks on me." somehow with your eyes closed it seemed so much easier just to say what you were thinking and what was entirely true, and you couldn't help but smile at the sweetness in your words and all the memories they held. It was more like talking to another part of yourself than talking to him at all. And then he stepped a little closer and you let your eyes open to the world.

The sun was already dipping behind the buildings, the town painted in soft tones of purple and pink, and you could feel the cold creeping in around the edges of your mind. Taking a long look beside you, you took in his smooth, pale skin and the mess of soft blond hair that almost covered the watercolour of purplish bruises along his cheekbone and around his eyes. Sunlight glittering in his hazel eyes, you could not deny that he was certainly beautiful. In a way that the stars are beautiful when seen from afar, and the lion in its cage that you had hung out of your window to watch pass by when you were younger and the circus passed through Small Heath on its way to somewhere bigger and more grand, beautiful and dangerous and half a world beyond your touch, the deity of some other religion that you could never see in your blind devotion to your blue-eyed God. He was beautiful in a way that made you feel nothing at all but the wonder that one feels when faced with such unattainable things, and there was not an inch of you that ached for him quite so much as you ached for Tommy even now, still the way he looked in the sunlight made your breath slow in your throat and your eyes catch on his face. He was beautiful like Ada and Isaiah and John and Arthur, and he was not a patch on your Tommy Shelby.

"Things are always nicer when they're in the past." he was smoking, raising the cigarette to his lips and taking a long drag, the smoke wrapping around him as he breathed out, blurring his features in blue and grey. You took your eyes off him and began to walk off down the street, hearing him behind you with his strange face and no Shelby surname to scare you away.

"Maybe not the war, but yeah, in a way." you joked bleakly and he did not laugh. You got the impression that he did not laugh a lot, but you had been here long enough to know that no one laughed here. There was nothing that nice to laugh about, when you thought about it, just the grey and empty days that stretched before you like the sea that had carried your Tommy away and brought this cruel stranger back to you.

"Ada told me you served." he knew Ada. Of course he knew Ada, everyone knew Ada, Ada was the talk of the town and it was not hard to see why. Everyone loved Ada because she at least had nothing to fear, nothing to hide. Ada was the last good thing about this part of town and you thought sometimes that everyone knew it. It wasn't exactly a secret.

"Ada likely told you a lot of things." you couldn't begin to imagine to stories she had told about you, her friend that had got out and had lived another life, the only one who ever left because no one ever left Small Heath and no one ever came back by choice, and you knew that everyone was wondering what had happened to you, and why had you come home at all, "That, though, is true."

"Where d'you go?" he cocked his head, looking over at you.

"Flanders General. A right hell of a place, but I survived what others didn't, so I guess I'm thankful enough." you joked bleakly, and the way he looked at you, the way he looked at you, you knew he knew exactly. It was hard to believe he had been to war when he was so much brighter, so much less tall and grand and intimidating to the soldier you knew in his hospital bed. But he wasn't there anymore, and you were secretly glad that he wasn't a thing like Tommy. The morning's words still rang through your head like a sucker punch, and you could feel yourself frowning as your mind wandered back again and again to him, to Tommy.

"That's where Tommy was, right?" Michael thought aloud, and you wondered if he knew how much it hurt you when he said his name. Of course he didn't know, and all the better that he didn't, still you wanted to tell him not to talk like that, not to bring up things that were better left unsaid.

"Yeah." you muttered shortly, hoping against hope that he would take the hint and leave the sensitive subject alone, but now he had turned away again to gaze up at the swirling sunset sky, and lost entirely in his own distant world.

"You saw him?"

It was a long time before you replied, your words drawn out like they came straight of your troubled mind, and he got the sense he was hearing a lie that was so much truer than any truth you might have told him.

"No. No, I didn't." and maybe that was true. You didn't see him, not Tommy Shelby, not this heartless man who ran the local gang and killed like he had never known how beautiful it was to love at all. Not this man who cursed you and left you and never kept his promises; the Tommy you had known was soft and kind and perfect, the man who should never be a soldier for all the light and life behind his eyes that drew you back to his bedside day after day. If you had known the other Tommy, perhaps you might never have sat with him at all. Perhaps you might not have loved him quite so much. If you had known... You wondered what might have happened if it had been Michael instead that day in the hospital that you had been sent to see. Looking at him for a long moment, it was hard to tell whether you would have loved him too, given the time to find out. There was a part of you that warned you that you would, that you might still, that men were a dangerous game to play for a girl as weak at heart as you sometimes believed you were. And there was that part of you, a little smaller and a whole lot quieter, like even your mind was a secret to you now, that whispered that there would never be another man quite so good as Tommy Shelby once had been. That you had tasted paradise in all its earthly glory and nothing would ever be the same again. That you might like to, you might try to, fall in love again and again, with Ada and with Michael and with Isaiah Jesus as you had once before, but that nothing in this world could take you away from the endless longing in your heart that had never quite gone away since that first and last kiss on the station platform. You wondered how many lonely prophets would give their restless souls to taste their golden angels as they rained down on them from high, and none of them would ever know the way it broke your heart.

"They say he got a medal for bravery in the Somme. Strange - never took 'im for the hero type." he shrugged and you gasped, pushing down all the thorny pain that was stabbing at your heart. The Tommy you knew had heart enough to win a thousand medals, to be a hero undoubtedly, but this man you saw in the Garrison with his harsh words and lovelessness? There was nothing heroic about him. When you played it back, searching desperately for a trace of that tenderness in the beauty of his face, there was only the coldness of a villain.

"And what about you?" you were desperate to change the subject, desperate to get to safer ground before he saw and he knew, and you knew it was pointless because tomorrow he'd know and the whole town would know and all off this would be for nothing. You would run away again, like you had before, and like before you would come back again and again and things would be the same every time. So why were you pretending that you could save this, and make it out like you hadn't fallen in love in the worst possible way. "Are you the hero type?"

"I used to think I was. But then again, doesn't everyone. It's only when you're out there and you're looking at it in the eye that you really see just how scared you are. Makes you a little ashamed of yourself. I thought I could make a difference until just then." he seemed so sad when he said it, and you drifted a little closer to him in the darkening street, glad of the shadows that left the world just you and him, no others, and the conversation which was steadily carrying you away from that most awful of subjects. It was easier when the sun went down on the rights and wrongs of cold humanity and now it was just you, two soldiers in your civies in a street that once was home. You trying to mend a heart when you knew you could not even begin to look down upon your own.

"I think you can make a difference, just not one that matters." you didn't entirely know why you said it, but as he laughed under his breath you knew it was the right thing to say. Something about him left you so unsure, and you had no idea what was the right thing to think or say or do, because you had learned before that nothing you did turned out right. It didn't take a backstory or any explanation to know who you had learned from.

"Thanks." he rolled his eyes at you and you laughed a little, him stopping as he pressed the back of his hand against his forehead in mock-indignation.

"You wanted the truth." you grinned, shrugging innocently and letting him catch up with you again. His features flashed in golden light as you passed the lamplighter with his hands of amber blaze, leaning down from his ladder as you smiled him a goodnight.

"I did, I'm sorry." he grabbed you by the arm and pulled you back to walk beside him and then, as you two fell back into silence and walking side-by-side. A sharp twist of wind came whistling through the street, sending a thrill up your spine as the cold grey colder and the sun had gone away, and Michael shrugged off his jacket in a single deft motion, draping it lightly over your shoulder. It was more or less the right size, thick and warm and filling your senses with the smell of his cologne in a way that made you ache for the chamomile soap in France that you had tasted every day on that other man's skin. Michael smelled of whiskey and smoke, and though it was homely and strangely comforting, you felt more alone than ever when you were wrapped in his clothes. You glanced up at him with a weak smile, all the same, and tried to find the softness in his eyes that was the kindest you had seen today, and nowhere near so quiet nor so beautiful as that sweetness you had once seen in Tommy Shelby. Perhaps it was time to let that sweetness pass you by, for it had been such a long time since you had seen him as he was. Perhaps it had been forever. Whoever could possibly say? "You don't get that a lot around here. The truth."

"You say that like you've seen the whole world." you looked at him for a long moment, trying to figure out where he had been, what he had seen. There was something strange about him, a story, that caught your eye and held it. Sure, he wasn't as exciting as Arthur nor as endearing as Finn, as soft and sweet as Ada or as familiar as Isaiah, and you dared not even begin to compare him to Tommy - nothing compared to Tommy Shelby, and you knew that now more than ever as all your memories rushed through your mind with every passing moment, with every breath you took with aching lungs because what was the point of breathing if it wasn't with him - but he was different and it thrilled you that there might be a world outside of this grim neighbourhood that you had yet to see and he was your way out to it.

"Maybe I have." he tilted his chin up cockily, hazel eyes meeting your gaze and returning it with a cockiness that suited him well. To see the world and come back to Small Heath all the same; you thought he might be a little more insane than the rest of you in town, and that was saying something. So insane you could almost kid yourself that he had not killed at all, but then again death was all the fashion in Small Heath, in the world, right now, and he did seem so stylish.

"And what did you make of it." You'd like to know, if only so that tonight when you closed your eyes and tried to sleep you could pretend you saw it all in front of you, glorious and new as though you really made it. He was the storyteller to your strange addiction, and with each word you knew he had you more and more hooked on his own lifestory.

"It was shit." he said shortly, still holding your gaze, and you knew that that was all that he would say. You wanted to ask more but you knew better than to ask of something that would bring him pain. You hated the thought of him in pain, and you wondered for a moment if his past was just like yours, an epic and a tragedy of love and loss and an afterthought of loneliness in a town halfway to inferno and inching closer.

"You actually like it here?" you could not keep the incredulous thrill out of your voice, and he laughed at you. He laughed a lot, and it never seemed quite happy at all, more like life was some great big joke that you could not comprehend, and there you were all hooked and waiting for him to let you know the punchline. Something you'd waited so long for, you thought it had to be worth it.

"Nah, this is even more shit." he kicked a stone and it skittered across the street, glancing off the curb and falling into the gutter, stained from a summer full of rain and cracked with the ghost of the sun's glare.

"Glad someone else can see it." you muttered, and in those words you cursed them all, those who sent you away and those who pulled you back and those who'd made the other world so beautiful that you could not think of coming back here, although in that there was only one person to blame and you thought you'd better not say his name out loud for fear of falling apart all over again, in the street with pretty Michael.

"I grew up in this dreadful little village and I hated it, you know." his dreamy gaze was fixed on some point in the middle distance, and in his voice there was a thoughtfulness that made you think that as he spoke he was forgetting in every word that you were there at all. You felt like you were hearing some part of him that he hadn't said before, and you wondered how long it had been since he had told the truth. How sad it must be to have a story so interesting and no one ever ask for it, because a story without its audience is a fairytale lost to time, and soon your life would not be real at all. "And now suddenly I'm working for the Peaky fucking Blinders and I'm stuck in this shitty neighbourhood and no one else seems to hate it as much as I do." by the end he was grimacing tightly, his face masked with a deep, dark pain that might have looked like hatred if you were not reading him, plotting him into the map of your mind for later reference when you wanted another reminder of why you were still here. All the sadness turned to anger here, and after that to vengeance, and in the end to death and all that glory.

And there his story ended, and you knew better than to ask more. You tried to pretend that your excitement in him was not slipping away quickly as one by one his walls built up around him again, his jaw setting tight and stern and pushing away that glimpse of humanity you were not so sure had even been there at all anymore. There you had it - he had been away and seen it all and come back here to never speak of it again - and that little stir of hope within you off the picture of another life, far away from grey Small Heath, was fading back into the darkness as you left the lamplighter behind.

"You're a Peaky?" your voice broke a little as you prayed that he would tell you no, that he would say that you were silly, he was wrong, he was no Peaky nor a bad man either, but how could you not be bad in such a world as yours was now? This whole town seemed to be filled with them, the dreadful Peakies and their shiny caps and lifeless laws and loveless lives, and in each face and bloodied fist you saw again and again only him, only Tommy.

"Just an accountant, really. Don't think that counts as much. Certainly doesn't to Tommy." he was venomous, bitter, and filled with a dark injustice that made you wonder what he would do if he could do it all and more. And for the first time you thought a silent thank you to God, to Tommy Shelby, as you thought of Michael safe within his counting-house when the others went to war. You wanted to kid yourself that he had never held a gun, never killed a man, but Shelby or not the blood still ran the same here, hot and angry and with the taste of death.

"And all the better for it." you let out a shaky breath, not realising your fists had been clenched tight until you forced them open, rubbing at the deep crescent moons left in your palms by blunt nails. "People die here, would be a shame to lose the only other person who hasn't spent there entire fucking life within the same six streets." you were playing it safe, trying to hide the relief that flooded through you, trying to convince yourself that you were simply protective of the only other person in this entire goddamn town who was not out for more blood on their hands when the war was long since over, instead of the truth that everybody knew; that you knew now that at least you were not stepping back into the centre of the twisted web of Tommy Shelby and all the cold and bloodied hell around him.

"Ah, don't worry about me. Think I'll be just fine." he shoved his hands into his hands, spinning on his heels to walk backwards, facing you and wearing that lazy grin that you could already tell was so utterly false. A self defence, and the eyes behind it were bright and dead and filled with pain and stories.

"I hope so." you smiled back, mainly in solidarity. I know you're lying, but so am I. We two are far from being fine, and don't we both know it so well?

"And if you could get out of here?" his question took you by surprise - no one had asked you that before. They were all so kind to you, their sympathy and their insidious envy so close together that it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began. They all pitied you for coming back eventually as everyone knew you always would, and they all hated you too, blamed you for not giving every last inch of your being just to keep yourself the hell away from this godawful town. But until now, not one of them had ever asked you where you would go from here, and to be honest you were beginning to wonder if you were going anywhere. Standing in the middle of Small Heath half a year since you had first come back, it was not hard to believe that you would be here forever.

"You mean would I drop everything and just get as far away as I could?" you laughed bitterly, knowing that that was the thought that had kept you up at night, that was the thought that was playing on both of your minds. He knew it, you knew it; it was the unattainable dream.

"Yeah."

"I... I don't know. I thought I would, but I- I just don't know." Saying it out loud made it feel a whole lot better. In your head it had taken up so much room, screaming at you all day as you tried to push aside that hatred of yourself and of everything else here in Small Heath. You would leave, you had wanted so much to leave, but now the thought of the rest of the world was quickly fading in your mind. The truth was that you had no idea what was out there, and you almost didn't want to find out. Here was Ada and John and Arthur and Isaiah, and here at last was your love, Tommy, although he may not love you now. If you could leave them all behind, would you really? You just didn't know if you had the strength to let any more people down.

"There's a lot of things to stay for." He seemed to know so well what you were thinking, and you knew that he had been through all of this before, for he too had been pulled back into this grim underworld from somewhere kind and far away. You had the mind of a traveller, an escape artist and a convict all in one, and you could tell that he did too. It was as though he saw right through you, but you knew that he did not see you at all.

"Oh?" looking over at him, you raised an eyebrow questioningly. It was a strange thing for him to say, all the same. What did he know about you that made him so sure that he could persuade you to stay. Here was a man who did not know you and wanted to speak to you all the same, and behind you was that other, darker man who knew you as you did not even know yourself, and would have nothing to say.

"For one thing, you could stay for me." It was a thought. You could definitely stay for him, this strange little man who seemed so much more invested in your answers than anyone else you had met in this town. He was curious, to say the least, and you found it rather flattering. You could definitely cope with having him around.

"Or stay for myself."

"Or stay for both of us." he was so desperate for you to stay with him that you wondered what it was that he wanted from you. You thought the whole of Birmingham must know by now that you would surely never love again and why. And you were not a Shelby, only a friend of a sister. There were rats roaming the streets who had more power than you, and yet you knew that you were not exactly so far from the Blinders as you might like to think.

"I wouldn't mind that." it might be nice to have a friend. In a neighbourhood like this, there was no harm in having allies, especially those who could protect you so well as the Blinders might. And it seemed like Michael was the closest you could get to the Blinders without seeing that dreadful, beautiful face.

"Then don't go anywhere and I won't either." he swung around to take your hand, bring it up to his lips as he made his wild promises. You knew that, given the opportunity, he would break them without a second thought, but you knew that you would too. And somehow the promises seemed more definite that way. "Stick around for each other, eh?" a smile cracked open the hard, coolness of his face, and you returned it weakly. There was something about him that reminded you so much of Tommy, your Tommy, and you wondered if that was the only reason why you were standing here with him now, not telling him to leave. You wondered if all the Blinders were like that - cold and cruel and broken - and suddenly your heart ached for Isaiah. You wished more than anything that he had become a preacher instead.

"This... this is me." You waved your free hand towards the shadow of the church on the corner, resplendent in its inky darkness and the sins that seeped from the stained-glass windows and into the street. Your hand slipped out of his, falling heavily to your side as you took a step back from him.

"Where we say our goodbyes." he murmured, and you nodded.

"I suppose." You turned the corner, made a move to go into the church and then turned to smile at him. As you looked over, you caught him staring at you thoughtfully, a plethora of unreadable emotions dancing over his face and you wondered what on earth he was thinking now. "Thank you. For... getting me home safe."

"I enjoyed it. A lot." he seemed as surprised as you were, when he said it, as though he had not been expecting to feel that way. And the way his face softened as he said it, the small lines by his eyes that made you think that his heart was full of quiet emotions that he would never say, it all reminded you of Tommy.

"Would you mind if-" you began, not sure what you were saying but knowing that it was something to do with Tommy Shelby. You needed to speak to him, to have a message brought to him, that you loved him as you always had before, and that yes, you had forgiven him already for every sin in all his life. You love, love, loved him, you always had. But just as you were saying it,

"Would you like to-" he blurted out, caught himself as both of you spoke at the same time, words blurring over each other in a tangled mass of thoughts out loud.

"You first." you wanted to say it, all that you had been meaning to say, and then disappear immediately into the safe solitude of the church. You didn't want to see him look at you with all that pity and mindless apology in his eyes that you had seen so much today. You didn't want him to think less of you, but you really had to say it now, or else you knew you never would.

"Thank you." He took a deep breath in and out, still standing some way away from you as you waited by the great church doors, but now you felt as though he were close enough to hear each breath from your lips, each beat of your heart, and they were not for him. They were not for anyone other than your sweet and unattainable Tommy. "Would you like to go to the pictures with me. Tonight was nice."

"Michael I-" You were surprised, to say the least. This was the last thing you had expected from him, when all of Small Heath knew by now what had gone on today. You thought the whole world must know about you and Tommy Shelby, and you thought they must love you a little less for it too. You meant nothing but trouble now, for you picked fights with people in very high places and they liked to keep their enemies very, very close.

"Please." He took a small step towards you and you could hear the pleading desperation in his voice, a little emotion coming through, so honest that you could not believe that you had found it here, in Small Heath. It was enough to make anyone give in.

"Okay." you whispered, and you knew he had heard you. You thought that the whole world had heard you, because the words rang through your mind so loud and harsh and important, and they would stay there forever to haunt you because there it was, you had given up on Tommy Shelby. This really was the end of things.

"Thursday? Eight o clock?"

"I'll be here." You would, because now where else could you be. When you told Ada, she would probably tell you that it was just as well, that you should go for it, but the truth was that you didn't know how. For you had loved the greatest of all things, the most beautiful of men, and how could you ever love again?

"Goodnight (Y/N)." he spoke softly, and you could almost hear his heartbeat through his words, quick and strong like he was full of love and life, but no one in Small Heath knew of either. He was so different to this cold, dead town.

"Goodnight Michael." You waved at him weakly as he kept his eyes on you and took a step backwards, taking him in once more as he stood in front of you like you were trying desperately to read him one more time before he disappeared forever and became someone else entirely. The men you knew had a habit of doing that.

"Goodnight." he smiled.

"Goodnight." you smiled back, a little more honestly this time.

"Goodnight." and he was still walking away, still facing you, and you thought he looked rather ridiculous but you liked it all the same, and you were wondering if perhaps it wasn't such a mistake that you and he would meet again and try to be something more.

"I really have to go now, my father will be worried. Goodnight, I'll see you on Thursday." You promised him, already opening the church door and looking through into the impenetrable darkness beyond.

"Thursday can't come soon enough." came ringing through the street as at last you saw him disappear around the corner, into the dark shadows of the night. You let out a long and shaky sigh. You slipped through the gap in the heavy church doors, leaning against the wood on the other side as you heard his footsteps quieten and die away as he walked away.

"Yeah," you murmured into the shadowy silence of the church. For a moment you believed it too, letting the thought of Michael fill your mind for all the time it took to stand and begin that walk down the aisle to the anteroom door. And then the thought of Tommy came in, and flooding back, and everything was blue once more.

________________________________________________________________________________

It was not for you to know that Tommy Shelby had waited in the shadows, standing on the corner by the darkening church as the cold and the night came creeping in around him. Not something you would look for and not something you would see, and perhaps that was why he had done it. He would like to say that someone had told him you were there at the Garrison and he wanted to make sure you were safe, after all even he could not deny that the two of you had history, no matter how that history had ended.

By the curb where the shadows met the dim glow of the streetlamp that flickered and waned as the wind hissed around the corner like the biting breath of apprehending fate, Tommy Shelby lit another cigarette and waited for you to walk by, the way he had waited for you every day in France and every day since. It was not something that he would particularly like the world to know, but to say that he had meant none of his words today was not far from the truth. The truth; as if you needed that.

When you turned around the corner, stepping into the light as it fell upon you, it was all he could do not to step out and go to you the way he knew he should. The way you had probably thought he would, and now that he thought about it, it was getting harder and harder to remember why he hadn't. Somewhere along the way, somewhere in the blond of pretty, cruel Grace and the way Small Heath looked when you came through it for the first time back from France, he had realised then that he was never right for you. He loved you, he loved you, but this was for your own good. It killed him to hurt you, but he could not even imagine the hell that would ensue if someone else hurt you instead. Small Heath was not the place for sweet nurses and kind girls, Small Heath was a place for even the darkest demons of the world to shy away from.

He knew that you had seen Grace, because he knew that she had seen you. She had made that very clear already, the sound of her shouting and screaming at him enough to make him think that, somewhere in Small Heath, you must have heard it too. All of their problems that were really only his problems, laid out on a washing line for the whole world to see. Tommy Shelby was a worthless piece of shit, but they already knew that and you already knew that and he already knew that too. What else was new, except that Tommy Shelby had yet another woman and Grace would not stand for it. She would stand for it, she always stood for it, no matter how many times he wished she'd leave she somehow always stayed. He was beginning to think she was not staying for him at all, she just made it look that way. And now, yet again, she was staying right here, the girlfriend of Mr Thomas Shelby, living in his house the way he wished you would instead, taking up his time and his love the way he wished you would. The woman he loved would never love him now, and the woman he didn't would never stop. The world had finally caught up on its debts against Tommy Shelby.

Tommy pressed his cigarette into the bricks of the wall behind, sparks showering down onto his shoes and fizzling out in the gutter where the water fell drip by drip by drip. In the heat the pipes were cracking, water bleeding out from their wounds and painting strange patterns in the dirt and heavy dust. The thought of summer burning in his mind, Tommy brought his coat closer around him, straightening up as the cold rushed in around his collar. With a last deep breath, he went to move towards you and saw you standing not alone this time, but pressed against the church door with another man before you. You smiled at him, and Tommy had to frown at that because he had seen that beautiful smile all those days before, and this was so far from it. To be honest, you looked tired. There were dark purplish bruises under your eyes that reminded Tommy of those weeks where you stole snatches of sleep in the chair beside him, hurrying back and forth all day and all night for days and days on end. But now there was not that giddy, sleepless smile that you had had when you knew it was all worth it. Now you just looked... sad.

It did not take a genius to tell who had made you this way.

He had to grimace at that, his displeasure only bubbling higher in the pit of his stomach as you laughed at something the man said, bowing your head and he hoped you were not blushing. You were not his to lose, but you were no one else's to love either. And then the man was going away, and Tommy was breathing out audibly and realising that there was no way he could go to you now. He wondered if for a moment there you forgot about him entirely (he wondered if you remembered him at all), and he wondered if you knew that you had never left his mind for a moment since the moment you had left the station platform.

And then through the street there came those dreadful words, the promise of Thursday flooding through Tommy's mind as he braced himself against the wall, hiding himself further in the shadows because there was no way you could see him now. He heard you, every word you said, when you agreed to go to the pictures with the man that Tommy couldn't quite see, and when you said goodnight too many times, and Tommy could picture you not wanting the man to leave, and Tommy could see your face when you fell so utterly in love because you had once showed that face to him.

He heard the man turning the corner, leaving at last, and as he broke from the wall and stepped out into the street, he saw the last of you, ducking back into the church and closing the doors behind you. Tommy Shelby could never have you now.

Taglist:

@actorinfluence @captivatedbycillianmurphy @stressedandbandobessed7771 @audioshoes

#Tommy Shelby #tommyshelbyxreader #Thomas Shelby #thomasshelbyxreader #Michael Gray #michaelgrayxreader #Peaky Blinders #peakyblindersxreader #fanfiction #reader insert

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kitanoko · 6 years

Text

`Snow White Au

todomomo week day 1: Kiss (pretend that todoroki got his red hair from someone else other than endeavor pls…and this is totally not like the original snow white im sorry LOL)

LETS BEGIN THIS JOYOUS WEEEEEK~

genre: humour and fluff

-todoroki was a prince of an ancient land where his mother remarried a man so vile and cruel that todo and his siblings wanted nothing to do with him. His name was Endeavor.

-Now Endeavor wasn’t a bad looking dude but he was clearly jealous of todoroki’s good looks so he asked his magic mirror “mirror, mirror in my hand, who’s the fairest in the land” and the mirror replied “Todoroki Shouto”

-For once, the mirror answered with someone other than him?!?!?! this was blasphemous! And so, Endeavor was forced to order an assassination of his own step-son. He was NOT going to lose to some kid!

-At the young age of 18, Todo was fleeing for his life after Fuyumi had warned of him of the dangers that were to come. Fuyumi had suspected something was up when she had accidentally bumped into her stepfather’s meeting with two mysterious beings. Her suspicions were proven correct when she had heard him say ‘kill shouto’ as if it was the most normal thing in the world

-Todo thought his sis was joking at first ‘cas are you serious, a grown ass man feeling threatened because of his appearance? Though when he escaped death by a hair when the two assassins came at him at full speed during his hunting trip, he was 100% sure Fuyumi was speaking the truth. Todoroki held his own and was able to knock one of them out instead of fatally wounding him, the other, seeing Todoroki’s kindness towards his partner decides to spare is life. The assassin handed Endeavor the lungs and heart of a wild boar, claiming it to be his stepson’s organs and fools the King.

-Todoroki galloped with his bags towards the river and found an empty cottage completed with 7 small beds. He found it odd but shrugged, leaving his bag on the floor and horse outside as he fell asleep on the bed labelled ‘grumpy’.

-the 7 dwarfs came home and freaked out! Who the heck was this dude with such weird hair?! And why was there a horse?!

-”What the actual fuck?,” Grumpy yelled and Sleepy yawned while mumbling, “what a banquet of darkness.” Grumpy’s anger woke Todo up and he flinched at the sight of the 7 mini people adorned with cute ruby red triangular hats

-Btw if it isn’t obvious enough, bakugou is grumpy, and tokoyami is sleepy. Then, iida is doc, yaoyorozu is happy, haha just kidding, uraraka is happy, deku is bashful, tsuyu is sneezy, and kaminari is dopey

-”Whoa what the–” Todoroki sat upright and almost kneed Bashful in the face. Bashful noticed the prince’s beautiful eyes and turned away shyly. Grumpy snorted.

“Who the motherfuck are you?! Get off my damn bed you dirty piece of shit!” Grumpy kicked Todo on the shin. Todo almost chuckled ‘cas it felt like a tickle.

“I’m the prince, or …was…”

Everyone gasped.

Doc pushed Grumpy aside. “Your royal highness, why are you in our abode if I may ask.”

“My father tried to kill me, I just need a place to stay for now.”

The dwarfs looked at each other in concern and huddled up.

“This may be dangerous …for us.” Dopey said and Sneezy nodded after a few sneezes. Grumpy gritted his teeth and agreed silently, which was unusual for him. Perhaps he felt bad that he overreacted earlier. Doc gave a sigh.

“I think we should help him, we should be helping those in need.” Doc said and it was Happy and Bashful’s turn to agree.

“Fine,” Doc turned to say and Todoroki smiled back. Happy clicked her tongue playfully and lifted herself right next to him. She directed a bright grin at him and he appreciated it.

-After that todo slowly warmed up to the little dudes and grumpy sorta tried to return the affection. They give awkward glances to each other sometimes when they go fishing (grumpy gives todo advice on how to catch the biggest salmon and that’s the limit to their friendship)

-todo learned that happy enjoys playing catch and she told him that she wants to learn how to fly someday (todo didn’t wanna break it to her but that’s not how the human body works)

-Doc is the smartest of them all and the most reasonable; dopey enjoys daydreaming and cloud watching; bashful is…well…very cute and shy and seems to be the only one who can control grumpy somewhat; sneezy is really good at swimming and can hold her breath underwater for a very long time, so long that todo thought she drowned but she didn’t; sleepy is very poetic and extremely philosophical and todoroki would never know how to have a proper conversation with him….not that he usually could with any of them anyway…and why the heck does sleepy look like a crow and sneezy a frog…strange

-Todo built his own bed with the help of the dwarfs and Grumpy labelled the bed “Weirdo”

-Its been more than 2 weeks and todoroki felt like for once, he could live in peace. He went out to hunt by himself one day, despite the concern of the dwarfs (grumpy was like who the fuck cares if he gets himself killed we’ll all be free, but he didn’t really mean it LOL), and he went further than he had planned (he wasn’t gonna let that deer escape!)

-right before he sent an arrow flying towards the poor deer, he caught sight of… a human nearby? in the middle of these woods? He followed the swift silhouette with a stern gaze and he leapt off his horse (his horse is named Pretty Peach btw, a name given by Fuyumi, ‘cas it has a strawberry blonde mane).

-”Who’s there?” Todoroki called, hands gripped tightly on his bow. If its another assassin, he may not be as kind this time. “Is it a hobby of yours to hide behind trees? Come out or I’ll shoot.”

-The figure emerged and …hell no. It’s of course the most elegant woman he had ever laid his heterochromatic eyes on. How was he gonna kill her now?

-”I’m..I’m just a guard! My name’s Momo!” She replied, hand in front of her defensively, “I mean you no harm!” Seeing that her hands were away from the hilt of her fachion, he relaxed.

-Todoroki patiently waited for her explanation and turns out she was just intrigued by his hunting skills and wanted to learn for herself.

“Not that I could ever hurt these animals,” she confessed and the deer licked her outreached palm. It fled after.

-So anyways, after that mostly-silent encounter, todoroki met her a few more times and brought the dwarfs along with him; she came whenever she had a break from guarding whoever the nobility was from the next kingdom

-She was like those disney princesses that has a bunch of animal friends for no apparent reason but of course she was no damsel-in-distress ‘cas she could slice anything in half without a blink. Todo actually somewhat scared of her. Or he’s fallen in love. He shook his head. Nah, no way. Those goosebumps he gets when he sees her swing her falchion was ‘cas its cold. That must be it.

-Doc raised his concern over other ppl spotting Todo if he goes off too far and yes it actually happens ‘cas todo was too into his new ‘friendship’ with momo and a spy told Endeavor his discoveries.

-one day when todo and momo met up again, this time to string necklaces out of wildflowers because momo wanted to do something different for once (Grumpy knew todoroki was crushing hard on momo at this point but todo was too damn clueless to do anything about it), they get ambushed by a group of mercenaries hired by Endeavor

-momo surprised todo ‘cas she basically told him to sit still and she owns all of their asses single-handed and todo gulped. yes. okay. his heart was racing but not because they were about to get killed but ‘cas he’s fallen hard and fast for this crazy fighter girl with a big ass sword.

-”I can’t believe they RUINED my necklaces, look at these daisies?! They’re trampled! UGH!” Momo complained, fists clenched as they head back to the cottage.

Todo snorted.

“AND your FATHER sent them to kill you? How absurd!”

She went on and on and todoroki’s just chucklng at her flushed face from the battle earlier.

“The next time I see your father, he will feel my wrath!”

Todo stopped dead in his tracks and pulled her to him with one hand and awkwardly said, “You’re really cute Momo.”

And her face gets even more red and she just stopped talking on the rest of the way home.

-Okay so news get back to Endeavor that the mercenaries pretty much all in critical condition. “An insanely skilled lady” was with todo and Endeavor’s like “alright I’ll take matters into my own hands.”

-Endeavor dressed up as a witch (he gotta disguise himself ‘cas it’d be weird if people saw a King out by himself and somehow dressing as a witch felt right) and went to the forest and also brought a box of poisoned soba along ‘cas his stepson loves soba. Hopefully this mysterious lady with him also loves soba

-Endeavor found the dwarfs’ cottage and left the box at the doorstep (yes he knew todo lived there ‘cas the spy had tipped him). Endeavor hid behind a bush and saw Dopey bring the box inside the cottage and he smirked

-”Yo these noodles don’t look right.” Grumpy pushed the box away from his face and Dopey looked sad. “I ain’t eating this shit, someone try it first in case I die. I’m too cool to die.”

“Grump-chan please don’t say that,” Bashful said.

Todoroki looked at it and Momo swore his eyes lit up.

“Soba, it’s good,” Todo merely said and he took the chopstick that came in the box and took a bite.

Oh shit.

“Fuck, his face doesn’t look right. And I mean it looks even more messed up than before,” Grumpy said.

Todoroki felt the world spin before him and he just collapsed onto the floor. Momo freaked out but found his pulse and his breathing steady.

“He looks like he’s taking a nap…” Sleepy noted.

“Don’t say it…”

“…Of darkness,” Sleepy finished.

-Momo lifted Todo onto the nearest bed and Doc examined todo and doc’s like “I think he’s in a coma”

-Now a week passed but todo still didn’t wake up. Momo said she’ll find a doctor to come and see what to do. The doctor refused to go to the forest with Momo ‘cas that sounded sketch

-Momo came back defeated and Bashful randomly went, “hey…have you ever read those…children’s books?”

Momo’s like “what?” And Bashful’s like “most stories say curses are broken by a kiss from true love!”

Everyone looked at each other and Grumpy’s like “well no shit you have to be the one to kiss him, I ain’t doing it.”

“But why me?” Momo asked and Grumpy told her how he suspected that there’s something way deeper than friendship going on between them and Momo got all flustered and she felt it too but it was hard admitting it.

“Don’t kiss him on the lips though,” Doc said matter-of-factly, “what if you got poisoned too.”

Happy and Bashful covered their faces, feeling embarassed for Momo

-She leaned closer to todo, and he appeared so peaceful sleeping like that and she was starting to feel her cheeks heat up. This was her first time kissing anyone! Ever! The distance between them close in and Momo gave him a peck on the cheek. Suddenly, Todo’s eyelids fluttered open.

-”Why is everyone –OMPHF”

Momo wrapped herself around him before he could finish the question

-Momo was really angry now, whoever this person was, she’s guessing todo’s douchebag father, gotta pay for what he did. She devised a plan. Todo told her the plan was too dangerous but she reassured him that she had thought of plan B to Z if plan A didn’t work out.

-Momo went to the castle dressed as a man the day after, and acted as if she had an important tip to tell the King in regards to the prince

-Okay Fuyumi’s like wtf right now btw ‘cas her brother just escaped death three times?

-Momo told Endeavor to follow her to the forest because she saw the prince still alive. Endeavor’s knights said they’d go with him but he had had enough of failed plans. Even the soba didn’t work goddammit

-Endeavor was weary but Momo was so good at acting; she led him towards a trap built by the dwarfs and Endeavor’s horse gets caught in a bear trap. The King fell to his knees as his horse crashed onto the ground. And with a broken ankle, he tried to stand back up but Momo held a sword against his neck

Endeavor was named one of the most powerful men for a reason. He knocked her back and sent Momo flying. Todo and the dwarfs saw this from behind the trees and they run to help her.

-”What…Shouto…you became friends with these midgets?!” Endeavor roared.

The dwarfs took offence to that and they kept throwing rocks at him and Grumpy headbutts him and stomped on his broken ankle. The King winced in pain and with the help of Todo, the dwarfs somehow cornered him to the cliffs. With one false step, the King slipped and fell to the depths below

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.”

Todoroki heard his father’s screams echo.

-Though that was a horrid end to his filthy father, Todoroki was happy as now his family was free from his evil reign. Todo returned to the castle but still visited the dwarfs every week.

Momo was invited to the castle from time to time and Todo finally proposed to her with flower necklaces that she taught him to make before; the dwarfs helped them set up a wedding ceremony in the meadows and all of Momo’s animal friends came as well.

The end

#todomomo #todomomoweek #todoroki x yaoyorozu #bnha #my headcanons #snow white au #lol this was so fun to write #day one: kiss

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la-mise-en-abime · 7 years

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my heart yearns for you, i never wanted to be comic, i always thought it would be better to be funny in real life and not have to muster it and waste it on stage, and have people be surprised when you weren't as funny in real life, i always found that dissapointing when it happened to me, like that person was an apparition of themselves an empty shell. And wow I've come to realise how sad this existence is, or maybe its just the pattern of believing in your self, there are certainly dips. my heart yearns for you and i think fuck, was i supposed to have gone with you, was i supposed to have been all these things, what if we’d never met. I hope I can separate myself from you and form my own being, we were growing together and were not growing apart yet but maybe i need a change. This year has been weird, so wonderful, and so weird, and now maybe i am feeling the repercussions of your change, i am really feeling what you are feeling as one amoeba, we obviously share a bladder that has been said before so the urinary tract is suffering, but it hurts to feel your mundainity, it hurts to see you in your ordinary pain, your extraordinary pain in your ordinary life, it hurts me to think maybe you are not special, you are not just a special magical spelll that has reeked havoc on my life and make me question what holes i want it in. You are special, but if the world doesn’t notice so and treats you like shit i wont stand by it, ill stand with you, im sure what else I can do, will do. I dont want them spreading. our message so falsely for their own gain, i dont want coffee drunk over us and laughed over us, at our expense and sexual fetishes and smiles and dimples and rude finger gestures and shrugs and pleas and questions and examinations and cuts and bruises and cuts and no questions and spit in your face. Id rather not that thank you, id really rather not. I dont care what i am, just in relation to you always in relation to you. omg the fucking car alarm wont shut the fuck up, please shut the fuck up screaming like a fucking attention seeking cunt shut up, thank you. I was scared they would rape you, im still scared they will rape you, and i dont wants o be subtle anymore, I m scared they will fist you and put things inside you and pull your trousers down and laugh and bend you over a car and fuck you and fuck you hard, and im scared i want that, no i dont but I can imagine it vividly, has it happened somewhere in my memory before. I remember crying very hard over that film boys dont cry in tigers arms, sobbing and gasping like when i used to have tantrums, once a huge one in a video store andi couldn’t breathe i was crying so hard, and my dad said, T everyone can hear you, look they're all looking at you, take a deep breath and bap bap bap like fish inhale all that air and exhale very slowly, (later he said so your mouth looks like an asshole) but fuck those people that were looking at me he just shouldnt have made me fucking cry and it felt good and distressing to cry that much.

when we first met, the first night i called you she so many times when i was talking about you to other people, i had to keep correcting myself like i had terrets or something (that fucking car alarm) she, he, she, he, she, he. You didn't realise you have subsequently told me, but i rememeder it clearly, i was so drunk I could nt get it right, and you were the first trans person i had met knowingly, when you first told me you joked it about it, that seemed to be your method at the time, haha yeah, im basically just becoming a teenager, im about 13 in T years, i was like who is this creature who is telling me this there was subtle tone of vulnerability in how you explained it as if to say please accept this floating skin of myself that rests just above our heads, any sudden movements will frighten it off and i complied with this thing in front of me, kept it floating warily above our heads, as i fell in love with you. but your smile was golden, you were soft like the butches i had seen before, that negative space you *cant couldn’t touch where femininity and masculinity come close but don’t touch. the softness of fat under you shirt and the way you sweat and knowing there was something vulnerable in your pants, something I knew so much of and also nothing. this was stepping into another realm. I felt almost ashamed as if i was leading you on and you were so shiny and soft I knew you wanted more, but i was scared of you. i think i was terrified. of what you represented.

i was so scared of getting it wrong I did the most research ever before i met you again. how to give a clit orgasm , trans porn, top surgery, bottom surgery, fucking buzz feed all to find you somewhere, but you weren't there, you were new born, fresh into this world, thats why it felt like a lie, its affects creep up on you and for a long time you are lying to the world and proving it and i knew so much yet i would blow on your skin and, nothing. as i see you then you were more of a man than ever so pushed into a box, as so much of it is, to parade something you cant even have the grasp of to explain, to someone, your grounding on this earth in a matter of facial muscles and sounds originating from the mouth and lines and lumps in the right place flattened down that could have restricted your breathing as we slept and i said how lovely your back was because you wouldnt take it off you. Wouldn't let me see you like that it could have killed you in your sleep left me kissing a dead back i cant I cant. So for a while I could have been your fairy. your keeper even your comforter i did not exist because you did not hold me back, give yourself to me and**** i asked you in the dark of night do you like being licked out, do you like getting oral sex, do you use dildos, where do you not want me to touch, i thought you didn't want me to put my mouth there because it was wrong, it was weird, overgrown stump of what a pearl was, oh how i was wrong and you loved it and i too, i thought you might want me to suck on that appendage that innocent bystander that plastic thing that was never asked if it wanted to go in the dark place alone with no light, want me to lick it and suck it and look up at you while i did it like in the films, cause i would have done anything to get you off, and i did, but you let me put the overgrown pearl in my mouth let me pull it and suck it and let it rithe in my mouth furry stubborn pearl rolling on the sea bed, under bed under my tongue it would grow and wither and chip into my head visions of another world where I had never been and we would have to take an underground river to get to.

i remember the night it happened in that small space we called a bed the squeaked and the heating sounded like it was having a hight pitched breakdown, i was going to party that was prom themed and dressed up with lipstick over my top lip and all around my mouth and a wig and a dress and the whole time i was getting ready i was thinking of it happening, i was terrified i was going to get it wrong, id never done it, what if i would never get it right cause it wasn't the right genital substance for me, what if it was embaressing and i would have to go home with my tail between my legs not a true lesbian, straight person, person of lesbian tendencies, individual or something, someone that could not give another person what they both wanted to be given. i dont know I really didn't know, all I knew was that i looked fucking brilliant, and no one else was dressed up as per usual, so fuck them, and it gave me that sense of brilliance that everyone is judging you and you dont care.

and now they tell me a changeling is an old fairy that takes the place of a human baby an old stubborn baby that clings onto life promising its youth to all those around it that makes more sense when i call you a changeling when i call you a changeling that has been swapped at birth if only you didn't have a belly button or you had two sets of eye lids, or a second skin, but you do have strange belly button piercing from another life well say its an alien marking it i like putting my finger in it so hairy and soft and i get stapled in the mind when i know you were a teenage girl, and it turns me on and it scares me you will see that in my eyes. it makes sense that the old fairy would have seen the land and its folds to have a sense of knowing the cradle is where it should reside for the rest of its days not shuffle along in the mud with fairy toes all wet. you told me to put my toes in the sand, it felt so wrong and like they were being licked that time, in Edinburgh, a large man in an animal state licked my toes and it felt so good i let go of everything, but it comes so natural to you , to look at the sea and see answers, im almost playing to your state so you feel more comfortable in your natural environment if i am repulsed. the way people do that sometimes in order to appease the other, was it unnatural for me not to be amazed, you do annoy me when you are that pure(goldstar). i look as if i have corrupted you from your chosen path, perhaps you will go back there someday, back to the beach and think of me and you'll be at home cause i wont be teasing you, you'll be done with London and its cruel ways to spit you out with all your teeth and dreams, ill sit up in my high castle and be cold because of the drafts, without my human blanket. my cold winter feet.

and i want to have your children as long as they are fizzy and rough and have no part in the world they will become hardened to. i want there to be a way, a way that men with answers will give them to us and let me stop googling humiliating shit like can two eggs make a embryo, this is the age of fake news and i dont want to be a fucking victim. (of it) I want the soft place between us soft shell air socket between us to be full with potential and not lacking in our minds because of what ever we've been told needs to be there to build a life. i want it when i rub on the top of your clit, tiny boner, source, of rivers, slowly when you sit on me to really be you inside me or you transporting something in the air to me you don’t have to be inside me i am clever enough, imaginative enough to receive a wish of will. this way is better is better it is this way is better and better for me to lay my body on the sidewalk and shout for it to be this way ill disgrace myself to hold your hand.

its funny the words we use to communicate to each other i call you bitch and slag and squeal at you in the morning i shout in a mad face that the bombs are coming get down the bombs are coming and i tickle you and hit you when you dont hide your face into the cover, i like the helpless tickling noise, your gasping for air and your fucking smile is so framed in everything i could ever ask for. I think im like my dad like that when he screams little baby bird baby bird and picks you up like a child with the body of a huge 50 year old henry the 8th look a like. i dont want anyones approval but it hurts to know some soft states cant be translated into other states some things cant be grasped or explained.

we like to scream bitch after saying things because its like the cartoon rick and morty character who is the nightmare man, that was what got me through the break up and you lay on my lap as we watched, and i sunk my sad claws into that screen hoping the half an hour episodes would sink into one another and back into the whites of my eyes into my brain i could see us watching but i couldn't feel it, but the feeling was slowly coming back like after you burn your fingers with ice cream.

im sorry if you are hurt I had to do it i needed to be selfish well all die alone theres nothing more to say i couldn’t put it into words, i am scared of what is coming of the eyes of others im scared I will blame you for what i have doubts. you let me take you there i feel like the guy, there is no guy and I am becoming more comfortable in this position against your skin you can tell when people have copy and pasted ideas im self conscious of your knowing of my lust of your knowing of my want to penetrate you im conscious of my eagerness to do this and im conscious of what this could mean and could not. Im conscious of your body next to mine in the dark room im concious of the splinter in my finger im conscious i must be with out you. Im conscious of my memories past and how they build this encounter how i must hold back things from your view and bring others into the light but they are all there waiting to be shown it is for me to divide(decide). i am concious of you in the dark room when I see the man cry at the sound of a lovers voice from years past i feel the weight of his pain and i cry infant(infront) of you in the dark room full of people, they dont know this they dont understand like i have and i come out the cinema see the shadows of people in my way did they see what i saw i could not believe they were they they do not feel the same they are frauds, I make a swift exit to the toilet so as not to be taunted by these shadows, what is this face i see on leaving the huge and empty lonely *discabled toilet we blush at each other we know who the other is and cannot express the name of the other our mouths are forming round the name both struggling to admit this is happening(the other has a name) both blushing both full with what is delirium from all the crying shed in the dark room the evil son dark species feeder comes out the * bathroom to greet us he too is bleeding red blush and eyes and nose do twist and curve into some uncomfortable shape to fu/fill the space where words should be, and none of us can detect any.

you ask me how i did it. and i think of their mouths on each others genitals for a flash second as they stand close enough to kiss and i think better put that to bed my love. you ask me what did i do. She's taller than I thought im a fucking child a well mannered fucking child the fact my face has been near a dick makes you want to slit my throat, but i cut my tongue off and gave it to you for christmas. i say i sucked my fingers and put them places, and all i want to do is feel and to be shown the different avenues of experience. Im sorry i made that gesture people did it at uni those cuts across the arm in the air a razor blade wiped clean every time wrapped up and hidden in a draw like a battle field my love like a war torn landscape. i fucking hate those people i dont know i could strangle them for their inanety for their very wretched existence on this planet.

of the splinter in my finger at close glance microscopic slow motion as a pick it from my finger and its still sore is there still something in there i will never get out i will always copy in my actions to others be a wooden

fuck the egg fuck the egg fuck the egg and they were all so strange and i was so strange in their company as i am in the meetings of strangers it it where i find myself i find myself there it is my true self when i making things up and there is an atmosphere not yet made but worth polluting and his mother was dying and he saw a drag queen make an omelette and i made my excuses from my lack of anything and you were on a chopping board waiting to be chopped and i was in the hill in the suburb of my mind in my fear of the rape of the suburb and my filming of the fish in the shop window in the night of the suburb* and my mothers words were strong and definite this is something that will affect you and you are lost i am lost lost lost i know it was a losing game to say it was what i could handle was funny and I was laughing as i tried

filming things to take back to you of my existence the evidence of my existence and the world that you could not see. parcels of light

so poorly filmed camera angles all blushing with love

Id love to have been there in that moment, frying pan on the go, quite allot of fat, like chicken breast, must be nice to eat feed someone something from your own body. penis

im sorry i was full when you wanted to fuck me. Tomorrow we are going to dinner with your family, i will have to behave like i have to, no hands under the table touching you as we eat, it will be hot, suffocatingly hot and ill have to concentrate on what i am eating not eating you

did i hurt you did i make you bleed? i wish id recorded our conversation, and ill have to read this book again and again as its urgency describes the urgency for us to be described. You said it made you open that those boundaries were closed for so long, you've been alive for a long time, no ones ever been in there no person or thing, you must really like me, for letting you do that, my bodies like what are you doing things dont go in there only come out, whats that we like it, oh i suppose we should give it a try. its not something i can describe yet this feeling of you opening up to me, i knew all along you would like it. it makes me drowsy watching you getting turned on suffocating under my hand, you want it and im going give it to you im gonna take it away and put it back in , im touching you where you've never been touched it might as well not existed you didn't exist before this moment soft in my hand and wriggling in my fist, im holding you there i wont let you go ill give you everything you want to get there ***im deep inside you i can feel your pain that something has expanded and been washed away with the penetration and skin on skin that soft place between your hip and lower thigh that could still be a babies limb(thigh) that night i spoke to a butch about being a bottom and she told me sex is just looking at someone just imagining things are there that aren’t and everyone gets fucked in every hole and space that wants it when you have not spent your life in the corners of others peoples eyes ducking from sight and fucking, would you have put things inside yourself when you were younger did you just bleed and then stop and then bleed and then stop did your blood stain the sheets did you feel like a hole like an opening to be spread across the floor and sucked from someones fingers(in a jar), to be spread across the floor, did your dad smile at you and tell you not to have seconds did he have seconds is he an asshole does he think about your vagina swelling as it does with the months of injecting vials T /of pleasure/ straight to the blood supply supplying an ever growing (cock) clitoris, you said id fucked you into a coma, i want you to sleep in my lap all day, you cried and my hands were wet when i put them on your face, your got my cheeks wet you fucker (asshole) i was saving them for a rainy day, you said you lived on one floor you said 2 women lived in your house that were sisters and never spoke did your blood stain the walls did your blood stain the walls can i eat it can i lick it from your wounds when we fuck with the jock strap on and its covered in blood it makes me think of your blood and if there was a gash between your legs a severing you apart if you will fall apart and break in half and stain the floor as i drag you across the room , can i lick it from your wounds your soft and gutteral wounds so soft like petal flesh someones cut them and theyre bleeding from your plastic appendage theres blood on your clit but im sucking it, still blood there.,wont let me inside cause of the invisible blood there, it will be there for a while trickling down, the war on your body, the thighs of a child, i touched you in a place you hadn't heard of hadn’t translated into the language coudlnt understand the cuts dont like holes skin didn't prick pickle, ulcerus skin would let anything in barriers up it hurt me when i wasn't allowed in felt like heteronormativity without the pain of boredom but a line not to be crossed but things not to be stroked or kissed or licked let me hold you in the night now I've held you and broken you and something floats inside me if only they were to know, could you be pregnant with my wanting ?

have you been spending allot of time with your parents because you know they are going to die soon, i am lonely, i need to spend more time alone, it makes you more lonely when you cant remember the last time you were alone i really would’nt know who i was if i got married now.

i like fucking you in the ass, it really gets me off, really gets me off, really turns me on really makes me want to be inside you inside your whole core cant

i am dancing in slow motion to your voice, i am filming myself dancing in slow motion to your voice, i am cutting something up while listening to your voice, i running round in circles listening to your voice, i am on the floor crying listening to your voice, i am holding myself tightly listening to your voice, I am shouting over the sound of your voice trying to make myself louder, i am hungry for you voice, i am ashamed by the space between us, i am hungry for your voice, I am holding a floor/flower for your voice, i am listening to your voice drunk with my fingers in my ears, i am drinking shots to the sound of music timed listening to your voice,- man be cool i am frying an omelette listening to your voice, i am feeling everything listening to your voice, i am feeding an audience member listening to your voice, i am surprised by myself listening to your voice, i am masc for maSCC listening to your voice, i am hoping you wont leave listening to your voice, i am wanting to throw things away listening to your voice, i haven't decided listening to your voice, i am miming along listening to your voice, i am copying you listening to your voice, i am speaking very slowly listening to your voice, i am oily listening to your voice

a happy accident might be to faint on the tube and on coming round see your face, i find there is a null space between writing of words and the performance it is to panic that one is not right that one is not enough to parallel the other, to say that what comes first what is the purpose of the speaking, how much effort should the speaking be to counteract the writing, did the writing come from an improv, how does one improv on their own, I will just have to talk to myself for the rest of my life, no the improv comes from an exercisee, starting small and fun and exploring it, not know or worrying as to where it might go, the same with writing, do you start with a goal in mind, well sometimes you have an objective but you go on a journey to get there and no decision is wrong just a manifestation from your head, nothing you could ever do if it was honest would be wrong honesty is the best policy but that doesnt mean you cant be honest and also be deceitful, be lying and be honest, be lying honestly, be copying honestly, it is a mixture of lies and truth this is performance, to use ones body as the bericle to which you tell the story or the thoughts from your brain just your very existence not he stage is radical enough, to even say one word or blink would be radical enough…

i am sad i think my father is lonely i cant see him now but can here his soft rummaging and weird noises down stairs he can scream like a mad man and is always performing his mad man routine which might infact be his personality, but like me he is just pushing the boundaries and likes to piss people off and make them feel uncomfortable, so it is sometimes hard to tell the difference, I am sad he is lonely because i cannot see him but i can hear him coughing now, and in the night, i can hear him snoring through the floor boards and i can see the snor s coming up through the air like fluffy grey clouds or waves, i am sad that he is lonely i cannot see him but i can see a dark blue space punctured with lights and that is what downstairs looks like until i go downstairs and i can see its real walls and light fixtures and i know this is the real corners not the dark corners, i think he is lonely as he asked me to go to the corner shop to get him a beer a Stella Artois and I am sad because i did not get it for him and now he is coughing he is in the sarcoughaus of the house he is under my feet i feel i am selfish i only speak to him when i want things i wish adults weren't so useless and they could tell you what was wrong like a plant or a shoal of tuna feels like stabbing in the dark into a shoal of fish trying to understand him

when I woke up i thought about your genitals how they might be wet on my face, i turned over and felt my body on the mattress, I thought had you ever done this, you never touched it when you wanked, you still dont unless you with me and were in the moment. i had a pervading fear you might leave me for another man, I watched men from your eyes, seeing them as unconquered land as something you had not tried never been touched by a man in all your years, apart from that hand job with your guitar teacher, i thought i hate that woman, i woke from a sleep of her me telling you couldn't watch it, it angered me too much, i couldn’t watch it was sickening and her fucking face i could cut it open

Soft wet thing doesnt make sense pear shaped blossom and soot covering the sides urinal polished unforgetting is it to touch another in your future, basin of doubt my mouth alludes me it goes to what has come before

(without sentence structure just using simile and metaphors and free writing compairison to do this )

I had another dream about someone else, i feel dirty im gonna have a shower, im scared your gonna change im scared your gonna leave me for another man, im scared of you have a life without me, i keep having dreams about her, every night, do i want to fuck her or am i taunted by her, im taunted by her by a past life of mine, she came to greet me and she had candy floss hair i looked a mess everyone was there and we went out and left everyone i just left for her pleasure

i get paid to be sensitive in the sensitive spot the wind touches my ankles and there nothing to do in the plain sight the pain sigh the plain sight that moves me i woke up with blurry vision am i going blind, i woke up and what i could see yesterday i can no longer see before i feels good to hold your self down to be fLat and shiny and full of a heart and skin and blood underneath to know a cut would open you up so easily to fail in the dirt failing to use your limbs to fall bewildered to go outside for once in your life have you been outside today have you have been outside today no so dont hurt me again with your stale cavity

you would growl at the man in the shop selling us peaches didn't know he had a tremor terret,s to growl not ideal for a corner shop being the only light in a dark world dark street moon time peach buying and it upset me and i thought of myself as a small child all small and childlikee as a small child when kids took it too far and you shrivelled up into your self, its when your alone with your pain, snowball in the eye water dripping from you eye in alone with myself for hours, all hazy in the background, background noise, sharp aliveness alive sadness with he dirty snow dripping from my eye or glass that i sat on, the worst would be to be maimed she said , to be maimed would be the worst, to be maimed she said would be the worst, it was only a peach pit in my skull, but you wouldn’t want a 12 inch knife in your stomach sternum would you no you wouldn’t, a peach pit stone cutting the sides of your head off, shaving an inch from yours skull, its skill to laugh again after the impact, i felt child child again, plight of the hill and the peach pit in my brain it sunk in made its self known to me, known that it would not venture out, somewhere else a man was being cut open, known to me it would not venture out, it would not venture out and to expect something of the thing before it reaches its thing hood is foolish to expect something fo the thing is foolish, is foolish when a peach pit has embedded itself into its skull sorry to be a senstitve being, sentiive in the cool of the night air, as we cross the road to avoid cars we think might kill us, where everything is the height of the wind as the rain is about to fall, as temperaturee falls, it stayed with us all night, that stone worked its way out (but that stone did not work its way out)

shouting from a place of honesty, to unravel it would take its secrets away, it was a sigh in the mind, it was my sweat on your forehead, it was something happening far away, it was that peach pit of cruelty

why did i keep eating them bending lower and lower to my fait. my knees are the first to go, too weak for what they will

its when your alone with your pain, glass in my upper thigh near the places you choose to be cut open, involuntarily penetrated and loneliness is death and i have a scar there and its when your alone with your pain

, an men described as mediateranine colouring what ever the fuck that means hindered bodies with

i am so angry at you i am gone with anger I am gone i could have made the thing and blasted it into your face i could have made the thing and blasted it into your face watever you fucking cunt go lick the dogs arse i hate you and your fucking cuffling laugh and the way you look at me when you disapprove maybe i need to be more accepting thats my fault but i could hit you right you you fucking sucker go lick the dogs arse shut up ill say goodbye and not kiss you how do you like that if only it didn't fold back on me you /dont know me at all you are fitting things into the past what you used to say what you used to think you dont actually think that anymore dont let the shit they say grind you down thats a cliche go lick the dogs arse I am full with so many voices and none of them are yours you sucker go lick the dogs arse the words you say are empty vaccums i do things for you im self entitled i want to get it wrong i do things for you im self entitled i want to get it wrong i want to be excited instead im scared i want to get it wrong go lick the dogs arse

i couldn't hate you for long, but did you hate me forever, soaking up my life, is this sharing is this toll sharing, does it hurt you too,

it comes from the soul

wind hots the window suds like a bee dying

duality of eggs and blood

Bred into my womb

to find the details and tell your story

a film from my perspective as a stalker to you

hey fossil fuel, dirty ribena, slime mould, sea potato, Ursula le Guin, get in my mouth please peasant testicle tentacle put you to sleep eat you to your heart, peace be with you, bible passage for your grandma, Eccles cake for you pegging, naked with a cap on, dim light of the room a memory not to be forggoten and then i devoured you and then i devoured you and then i devoured you and then i devoured you cherry pip cherry core cherry cherry sticks and cherry more. Lychees at the cinema a hidden satsuma grapefruit lips fruit is expensive

im worried my dad only exists in my kitchen

im proud that you told them there is something else a Zara sales assistant wouldnt get it you were trying to tell her there was a void in the floor that she could fall into this gaping hole sucking the air out the room just a dash from razor on someones face wouldnt tell it to them straight give them enough warning of their ignorance there was a hurricane a whirlwind approaching she better get her fucking brolly - probably sum it up in one sentence.

into a massive void that was shaking all the

in those slow motion moments under the lights as the corners of your body touched mine tacky red paint and screaming

in that surreal slow motion

the less im with you the more I hate you for not sugaring my existence

Iit will all pass so grab it now

it was your gold star!!

my hands smell like celeriac but this morning they smell of your scent from inside your thighs where the humming birds sing, where i laugh at our fathers for not knowing we have that scent on our fingers as we talk to them

Ilike that man who kept getting ups nd putting his hat back on

when your full with cum and adrenalin you cant feel the pain

the metaphors the rising cultures

i am funny and you are funny and in the end i think its all going to be okay

to make a real effort to smile and not put my hands under the table.

the smell of cigarettes Monday morning

do they mix the ashes and dead bodies with the food

seeing that fruit stall and thinking that was where you were mine but i was not yours

i was your baby and i used to suck your chin

Never yours

Theres a man bow legged and he's walking, did his mum know not to wrap him round her chest like that so his legs would grow in the shape of her love and rib cage

the ground is lavender, looks like lichen, bluebells maybe just floating above the grass, a hat, a bonnet of flowers

i pass blisets where the man speaks in burps

throat cancer has made him funny without realizing

we walk along and our our knees in the right place?

we use sticks, we use plastic wheeled things, i am late, we use stealth, accents and alter egos, i channeled into a man selling big issue suddenly i am Liverpudlian so he recognises me as his own and forgives me for no money

she grows it but it looks better short

im late and bins line the pavement

i woke up in shock this morning and apologised in my sleep

Reeds

they will cut it off soon

film haircut march poem pics love

funny watch

even though can is hilarious

i fancy people who look like they've been found under a rock.

i rip my hair our its pieces

i am holding back

from every circle of my life

shame theres no poppies just unruly black hairs vying for attention

my love

not in our forehead or fingers

it is your ex girl friend

in awe of all the others creatures

i saw a bird with a ketchup packet

to call to each other reference each other tell each other things that are subconscious or just things. I call you bitch, the source, trans jelly, lichen, kitten , chicken tikka masala, midlands, it goes on. Im a rabbit in your keeping your your so small, smaller than me.

i hear you are on quest is that true? and you were born this morning, how is the world treating you? Im going to tell you some truths about the world.. have you learnt about hot and cold yet? Christmas trees have very short lives, sometimes the sun shines too much and you go red, you like icecream, you also like the beach and walking with your shoes off, you really like steak, cartoons and you are very kind.

the reason i cant really talk very clearly is because i have cut my tongue out and given it to you as a present.

I cut your tongue off and gave it to you for christmas.

ill cut an old woman face off and lay it in mine and scream like a goddess in battle as we sit on the tube cutting a mans head off with the slight of a blink in my fantasy that could be real if you will it.

if i had a 3d printer

i take you and i raise you to the highest peaks, dont bring us down.

and not spunk.

Middle ages people with their politics and booze that nor really fair i like them allot and they've livedI

as we have discovered a whole new worl

it feels great cause you know they are just particles of nothing and every part of your face is ——-gleaming.

boat to under the river where snails .

and ill nev

left me with a mound of flesh

for moths to come

my truth, my witty ex

Transface

Political nipples

Squirm

Beetle juice

Metamorphic

your such a tease

Tardigrade

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