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popquizhot-shot · 4 months

Text

Magic

Moon Boys x reader<3

summary: you were married to Jake and after the events of moonknight, the boys get to know of jake and of you. Steven adores you but Marc just sees you as a friend. Right?

A/N: okay the timeline is a bit wonky but here's what i thought while writing the fic. Jake dated you for a year and a half before putting a ring on it. And you've been married for three years. You met Steven and Marc a year ago and have been dating Steven for eight months. Marc became friends with you a month after meeting you. please comment and reblog if you liked it!

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort

@jake-g-lockley

Marc was a lot of things. Pig-headed, stubborn, horrible at communication, a fighter. But he wasn't arrogant He could admit it when he didn't know something.

But right now he knew one thing and one thing only, that Jake was a prime idiot.

Marc stayed in the background when Jake was fronting around you, most of the time. Not always, of course. He wasn't a perv and one to to intrude between a husband and a wife. But he knew you. So did Steven, and you knew them.

He'd considered you his friend. Maybe one of his best, just months after meeting you. You and him shared many a night after Jake's missions talking and watching movies, when your husband was knocked out. You made him fall in love with chai, something that knocked Steven's socks off and he'd taught you the basics of baseball so you weren't clueless when you watched baseball with him.

It wasn't always so nice.

"You're married?!"

"Yeah, what's your problem with that?" Jake had become defensive, he wouldn't let Marc or Steven breathe a single ill word towards you.

"No, it's no problem at all, pal." Marc seethed, outraged, "except for the fact that I was married to Layla! God what if she almost say you when we were married? No wonder it ended!"

"Fuck off, man. You know full well why your marriage didn't work out with Layla. And unlike her, I told my lady fucking everything. She knows everything, from the cave to the sarcophagus. So she knew what to do and what to be careful of, including you. So don't blame my marriage for the reason yours didn't work out."

This was when Steven had interjected, he was unsurprisingly on Jake's side.

"He's right, Marc. If his wife knows everything then you can't blame him, and it's honestly rather mean and unfair of you to be angry at someone you haven't even met."

It took a few hours for Marc to calm down, and actually, apologise to Jake.

Hesitantly, Jake offered, "Y'know, if you want you can meet her. She practically knows everything about you and uh, Steven's most probably seen her around. She goes to the museum every week."

"Wait a minute! That lady with the Van Gogh tote bag?"

"Yup."

"Oh wow! She's really sweet, and beautiful! Hell, mate. You scored."

Jake had to smile at that, he knew he scored with you. For the longest time he felt like you were too good for him and that someone as kind, clever, intelligent and beautiful as you shouldn't have had to settle for someone like him. But you'd kiss away every ill thought he had about himself and reassure him. Communication was a very, very vital and important part of the relationship and you had helped him learn that it wasn't selfish to voice his thoughts. Especially because he put everyone's needs before his for so long.

"I know, man."

Steven had readily agreed to front and meet you, and Marc was okay with being co-conscious during the interaction as well. So on one fine day, Jake had brought them to the house he considered his home. He worked to contribute to it's rent, and buy things for it and for you. It was home, after all. You were his home.

Marc didn't know what to expect but when Jake had stepped in and hung his jacket on the stand and taken his shoes off, footsteps could be heard running from the main bedroom and he saw you running straight into Jake's arms. Jake laughed wildly, picking you up and twirling you around, much to your delight as you kissed the life out of him.

When he put you down, he could get a clear glimpse of you. Your hair was messy and your t-shirt was rumpled. And when he saw you smile he knew why Jake had fallen in love with you. Why Steven thought you were beautiful and sweet. Verything about you screamed, home.

Your greeting to Jake threw both the boys off, "Who the fuck are you?"

Jake smirked, "The fuck you mean, ma?"

"I mean, who." you poked him once, "are." twice, "you?" thrice and Jake started giggling. Fucking giggling like some little schoolgirl. You laughed too, and hugged him tight.

"Hey, baby." he kissed your forehead and you smiled.

"Hi." you kissed his nose.

"I have two guys who'd like to meet you."he raised his eyebrows.

Your jaw dropped a little, "For real? Wait, you're being serious, you're not screwing with me?"

"Why would I screw with you, when I could just screw you?"

The men in his head and you all let out a simultaneous groan.

Steven met you first, and it went swell, you'd both bonded over history and literature. And a love for Taylor Swift. But that was a secret. You liked him a lot and he positively adored you.

Marc, on the other hand, was much more closed off, he'd be polite, but he'd be curt as well. A combination you didn't know was possible.

After a few weeks of trying to bond with him, resulting in almost a small meltdown. It had taken Jake being knocked out after a mission and being too tired to eat to actually get him to talk to you over a meal.

It was one of the best things he'd eaten in his goddamn life and the groan he'd let out after the first bite brought a laugh out of you.

So yes, Marc would consider you one of his best friends. Steven and you had started going out with each other a few months ago and it was going so well.

But not Marc.

Because he didn't like you like that.

Of course not, you were his friend.

You were his friend who made him laugh because you had the same dark sense of humour. You hugged him when he needed one but was too uptight to ask you. You, who googled the Cubs and learnt everything you could about them just so you could talk to him as well, the way you talked to Steven about Jane Austen and the Indus Valley.

He didn't know when it became something more to him.

And he didn't see how you'd look him at him when he laughed, or when he was focused on the TV, or when he made you tea the way you liked it, Jake had taught him how to do that.

No, to him, you were just his best friend.

And you were currently crying your eyes out because Jake and you had gotten into a huge fight. He'd missed your anniversary because of a mission and he was working with Hathor's avatar. He failed to mention the part where he was forced to pretend they were a thing to prevent being caught and you'd caught him smelling of her perfume and gotten rightfully furious.

Not because of her, but because he didn't tell you that it had been happening for a few days. That the week he'd spent away from you, he'd had to pretend he was someone else's and he was too scared to tell you. That's why you were mad, because you thought he didn't trust you.

You'd raised your voice as he turned his back on you and he turned around, face contorted in rage. Steven tried calming him down as he stalked over to you. You stood your ground, Jake would never lay a hand on you. You knew that. But it was what he said, that broke you.

"You're being a fucking nuisance. Instead of trying to understand, you're being more of a burden by finding shit to get mad at. Grow the fuck up."

That prime ass had the audacity to call you a burden. A nuisance.

And then he had the fucking nerve to leave and complete his mission and give control to Marc. Steven had chewed the fuck out of him and Marc would have loved to as well, but he needed to see you. See if you were okay.

As soon as he stepped in, he saw you on the sofa, rapidly wiping your tears away. You sagged again when you knew it was him. Somehow you always knew.

He furrowed his eyebrows at your disheveled state. Your eyes were swollen and wet with tears and you were breathing very heavily and in quick spurts.

"What do you need?" Marc asked you, sitting down beside you.

"C-can I have" you coughed, "a hug, Marc?" you said in a small voice, looking away.

Marc immediately moved to hug you close. Shushing you when you began to cry again.

What hurt was that he knew, and Jake knew, and Steven knew that you hated being a burden or an inconvenience to anyone. And today, the one man you trusted the most in this world had made you feel like that. And he couldn't even apologize.

'Jake you fucking idiot.' he rocked you a little, 'you better come out and fix this. she may be our friend but this is because of you, fix this.'

Jake remained silent in the reflection of the mirror next to the door. He looked wrecked at seeing you sob, and tears were falling down his own eyes.

'Mate.' Steven spoke up, he sounded mad, 'You made our girl cry. Stop being a fucking coward and fix this!'

When he was met with silence, Steven seethed, 'Marc, gimme the body.'

You knew exactly when it was Steven hugging you, and you kissed his cheek and breathed him in.

"Oh, love." he tried to comfort you, "I'm sorry. You're not a burden, I promise you." he kissed your forehead.

"I know that, Steven. I know I'm not a burden to you. I'm scared I'm becoming one to him. He doesn't even want to look at me!" you sniffed.

Steven glared at Jake in the mirror, who was wiping away his own tears.

Steven and Marc knew why Jake was so worked up. They knew that whoever Jake and Hathor's avatar was after called their bluff. They knew that those people had found the woman's partner and Jake was terrified for you and he couldn't even tell you because he never, ever wanted to be the reason for any feeling you had that wasn't bliss, happiness, content, or pleasure. And because he was sure he could find those assholes and beat the living shit out of them for even thinking of harming you.

But it wasn't their place to tell you, that much was apparent. Jake dug his grave, and then jumped into it. He had to crawl out of it on his own now.

"I just want to be someone he's happy to be with." you whisper and that's when Jake straightened up, heartbroken.

"Give me the body, hermano."

"All yours."

Only Jake scrunched the back of your shirts when he hugged you and you moved to hug him tightly as he whispered apologies in your ear.

"Baby, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry I made you feel like you were a burden and that I was anything but fucking delighted to be with you." he kissed your nose and then told you everything. Looking away because he was scared.

"I didn't tell you at first because I didn't want to just say that I had to pretend I was dating someone else and then fuck off for a week. I made a mistake in assuming that'd you get mad and it's because if I was in your place, I would be. But you're stronger than me, tesoro, and I failed to see that and I'm so sorry."

"Baby, I forgive you." you replied and he breathed out a sigh of relief, "But please, don't keep stuff like this in, okay? You can trust me, you know that."

He nodded fiercely and then he kissed you. Noses nudging and lips parting as he breathed you in like you were his lifeline, and he yours. He cupped your face and held you tight against him and when he pulled away you smiled at him, your eyes shining.

Steven fronted again with a little smile and you kissed him lovingly with a whispered 'i love you'. He just winked at you and kissed the back of your hand and then your forehead again before Jake took back control and carried you to the bed, kissing you deeply all the way.

----

Marc was fine, no he just needed a glass of water. He'd carefully rolled off the bed, thankful that he was at least wearing sweatpants and padded to the kitchen.

He should have known that you were a light sleeper.

"Marc." you began, your voice raspy.

He hummed in reply and held out his glass to you. You accepted it and drank your fill, giving it back to him.

After a few more moments of silence, you spoke up, "I thanked Steven for comforting me. But I didn't thank you." you cleared your throat, "Thank you, Marc." you said, sincerely, "You're one of my best friends."

Marc smiled at you. Actually smiled. And you smiled back and kept going, "And Jake and Steven know this and are okay with it so I-"

"You don't have to thank me, honey." he patted your shoulder, trying to conceal his tears as he looked away because god he was dumb. Dumb enough to realize now, that he loved you, "I'm glad I'm your friend."

To him, you were everything. You were sunrays and moonbeams and everything that he believed was magical as a boy. Everything he stopped believing in as he grew up. The first time you made him laugh and joined him he felt sure that magic existed after all, because what else could you be?

He tried walking past you but you held his hand and he froze, tears streaming down his cheeks.

You walked over to him and held his face in your hands. His eyes shut as you wipe away his tears. And he whimpered as you kissed his forehead.

"Marc. Open your eyes and look at me." you said softly.

He was terrified. That you'd seen past his mask and were going to let him down gently. Because to you, what could he be? Certainly nothing more than a friend.

"Sweetheart. Please."

When his eyes finally opened, they met yours.

"Marc. I fucking love you." you confessed and he let out a sob. Pulling you into a tight hug.

"I love you. God I love you so much, Sweetheart." he says into your hair, kissing all over your face, but not your lips.

"Can I kiss you?" you asked him, looking at him with those beautiful eyes of yours.

He nods and your hands travel to his locks and pull them lightly as you bring your lips to his own. Humming sweetly as he wraps his arm around you and licks into you.

Yes, he reasons yet again as you hold his face in your hands and smile at him, magic does exist. And it's in his arms. He loves it and so do the men in his head who cheer for him, albeit sleepily, looking at you lovingly.

And they'd never let you go.

#jake lockley x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #moon knight x reader #jake lockley angst #marc spector angst #moon knight angst #moon knight #marvel cinematic universe #oscar isaac x reader

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writers-hes · 9 months

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All Things End

You always knew Tommy as the cheerful boy who took care of you. He always knew you as the smart girl that he visited by the docks. The daughter of a prostitute, the son of a deadbeat father; a soldier who protected his country; a whore who protected him; a gangster who controlled Brimingham; and now, a wife. War changes people, you just didn’t realize that war could change you both. (angst, depictions of abuse, poverty, prostitution, canon-typical themes, death, war, time jumps, depictions of mental illness, and a toxic marriage)

A/N: This whole fic was inspired by Hozier’s latest releases; Nth/Unknown, All Things End, Francesca, and Eat Your Young. I recommend listening to the album before or after you read this. This dedicated to everyone who reblogged the last chapter. Thank you for the love; it means the world.

PROTECTION SERIES TAGLIST | PROTECTION MASTERLIST navigation | main master lists |

PART ONE: Toy Horses Outside the Brothel

BIRMINGHAM, 1914

You’ve been inconsolable since the Shelby brothers left. Everyone can see how different you were ever since they left. The Shelby’s reached out to you—but you didn’t like going to Watery Lane. You begged Polly to remove the Blinders that were supposed to watch you and she agreed after a while. It wasn’t the same without Tommy protecting you. You didn’t have the strength to face them, to go to their house and pretend like it was all okay.

“Angel, I’ve missed you,” he sighed into your hair. “Did you miss me?”

“Of course, I do, Simon,” you told him. “How are you? It’s been a while since you last saw me. You don’t like me anymore?”

“You know that I could never forget about you, darling,” he said. “I have a gift for you,”

“Really?” you asked, eyes hopeful. “What is it?”

Simon smiled, fishing a velvet jewellery box out of his pocket. He opens it and you gasp. A pair of sapphire earrings.

“I have to start dressing you up when I take you to London,” he says. “You’ll wear it for me?”

“I’ll wear it,” you confirm. You fixed your hair up in a faux bun. “Will you put it on me, Simon?”

“Of course,” he says, doing what you asked. “I’m fixing everything for us,”

“For us?” you asked, brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I told you that I’ll show you the world, didn’t I?” he asked, grasping your jaw softly to make you look up at him. “I’m taking you away from this shit hole.”

“We’ll stay in Birmingham?” you asked, voice wavering. Fuck. What do you do now?

“No, we won’t,” he shook his head. “I have a mansion in London waiting for us. Why would I want to live here?”

“But…”

“But what? Are you not thankful that I’m showing the whole world? I thought I was your hero?” he asked, his hand over yours.

“You are!” you said, inching closer. “You are. But I have friends here,”

“We can visit them,” he says dismissively. “Anytime you want. Or they can visit us, you know? Once you’re mine, you’ll have everything you want on your fingertips,”

“Why are you so nice to me?” you asked.

“Because you’re my Angel. The most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. You make me want to take care of you,” he says. “I love you. You love me too, right?”

“Of course,” you lied. “Of course, I do.”

Polly and Ada liked to visit your house every now and then. They said that it makes them forget all about Watery Lane. Over the times you’ve spent here, the house was fully in bloom. You’d buy plants and some fresh flowers to keep in a vase. There was always a pot of water ready to be heated for tea. You hated your job but this freedom, your own house…it sometimes made everything worth it.

“Shit, love. Your rich bastard must be buttering you up,” Polly says, helping herself on some tea. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you wore those sapphire earrings. You like him?”

“No,” you shook your head. “He has some of his men guard me…I’m afraid that he’ll stop showing if I stop wearing these heavy earrings.”

“Waiting for…”

“It’s hard,” you said. “I don’t go to the brothel anymore. Simon forbade me to work there after he gave me this. He said he’s fixing up things in London.”

“Do you want to leave?” Ada asked, looking at you.

“No,” you swallowed. “I’m thankful for…for being here. Not having to work anymore and just living comfortably but the price that I’m paying for it…”

You wanted to be there when Tommy comes back. You wanted to be the one to kiss him the first time you see him out of that train. But if you left…if you didn’t wait like you promised, what good would that be on the end of things? You wanted to see how life with Tommy plays out but what would you in the meantime? Where would you go?

“You have to choose what you’re willing to sell, then. You can’t live like this if you won’t string that rich bastard along. You won’t have to leave if you still work at the brothel.” Polly said. “Did you at least…think about it?”

“He said I could visit…or you could visit,” you replied, looking at anywhere but them. “But…but…I want to be here,”

“What if he doesn’t come back? This war…war changes people. Would you really toss your entire life away for a man in the war? I’m supposed to be on Tommy’s side, but I don’t want you missing out on life just because you're waiting for him,” Polly said. She’s always been practical, and she was…right. But you desperately wanted to see him before anything else. Still, Tommy and his brothers might never come back. If you turned down Simon’s proposal, you’ll be the town pariah. You could be wasting a good life away for Tommy Shelby.

“Pol,” Ada hissed but her aunt only smoked her cigarettes.

“All things end, darling. Maybe whatever you have with Tommy has run its course,” she exhaled, clouds of smoke entering your lungs, closing in on you. All things end. All things end.

LONDON, 1915

“I can’t believe I’m going to be married today,” you whispered. Your voice betrayed you, wavering slightly. “Fuck,”

“Hey, you can still stop the wedding,” Ada replied, stopping the work that she was doing on your veil. It was an expensive one, it cost more than your home in Birmingham. You never let that go, asking Ada to take care of it while you were gone. “We can run away,”

“I’m already here,” you nodded. “I want to…I want to see Tommy.” Your face was crestfallen, heart drumming in your chest because you never imagined your wedding to be like this. You were picking on your nailbeds again, nevermind the lacquer that coloured your nails. You were getting married in the most expensive place in London. Flowers hung from the ceiling; pearls lined your wedding dress. The sapphire earrings hung from your ears like albatrosses. The diamond ring on your finger demanded attention, a big rock on a silver band embedded with smaller diamonds. You never imagined being married like this. You always thought that you’d marry in the countryside, a nice flowy gown that you borrowed, wildflowers, and dancing. Not like this…surrounded by other businessmen, rich families who never gave a shit about you until you married Simon.

“You’re getting married but you’re unhappy. This should be your day,” Ada said, ensuring that nothing was out of place. “You’re the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen in my life.��

You smiled tightly. You should be thankful—ecstatic. You should be happy. So many girls dreamed of this. A fairytale wedding. The war was getting worse but not for you, not for Simon. In any case, Simon relished in the war, it brought him more money. You hated yourself for marrying him today when Tommy was most probably out there, fighting for his life.

Were you to blame for marrying Simon, though? It’s been a year and Tommy has never sent you a letter. All the letters you’ve sent were never replied to. It saddened you at first because his family would have something to look for, but you were left in the dust. You never brought that matter to light, maybe Tommy didn’t want to talk to you.

It hurts to be forgotten by the person you loved most. The only person who ever truly knew you. It hurt you to realise that for him, you were forgettable, replaceable. It’s like all the years you spent together were nothing. Maybe it was spite mixed with sadness and desperation that made you accept Simon’s proposal last year. Polly was right,—all things end.

Walking to the altar with Johnny to give you away was something else. Simon was kind enough to let the Shelby’s come to the wedding. He provided them with rooms to stay at a hotel. You should have been happy but the dryness in your mouth says otherwise. His family were there, judging you for being a prostitute; judging him for marrying someone so penniless.

Simon’s smile was genuine, at least. He was waiting for you, a bundle of nerves. When you reach him, he thanks Polly. Taking your hand, he brings you to the ordainer and the wedding starts.

The reception of the wedding was in your new mansion in London. A real estate treasure with a little bit of plush green land. Your husband had a professional come in to decorate the garden—you never knew that a job like that existed.

“This house is so big!” Finn said, after he ran to you. He was playing with the other kids. “You’d let me visit you?”

“Of course, Finn.” you said, a smile on your face. “But you have to be with Ada or Polly,”

“Okay,” he says, a toothy grin. “Maybe I can bring Tommy too when he comes back.”

“Yeah,” you nod. “Maybe…” Tommy. Tommy. Tommy. Would he appear if you called him in front of a mirror thrice? You just wanted to see him.

Simon comes to you and Finn.

“Hi, Finn,” he greets. “How are you?”

“Hi,” he says sheepishly, hiding behind your gown. “I’m good. Thanks for letting me come,”

“My wife really wanted you guys here and I really needed to see who’s the famous Finn Shelby,” he said.

“I was telling Y/N about how my brother, Tommy and I can visit sometime,” he said. You visibly tense at the mention of Tommy, Simon notices. You’ve talked about Tommy before. Tommy Shelby…

That night, after consummating your marriage, Simon asked.

“Who’s Tommy? I know who he is but what did he do?” Caressing your naked back, he pressed again. “Finn was telling me about his brother, and it made you uncomfortable.”

“He’s no one,” you lied, looking up at him through your lashes. “You shouldn’t worry about him,”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable…if he’s making you uncomfortable, I’ll have him dealt with.”

“No!” you cleared your throat. “You don’t have to, Simon. Thank you for caring,” you smiled, kissing his lips softly to forget about Tommy Shelby—the man who broke your heart.

NEW YORK, 1915

You were staying in one of your husband’s properties in America, a penthouse in New York when he came barging in, throwing you an envelope. He was angry, you could tell that clearly. He never got angry except now.

“Simon,” you said, smiling up at him.

“Who’s Tommy Shelby?” he asked, demanding you to answer. He knew who Tommy Shelby was. He knew of the Shelbys in Birmingham. But who was he to you? “Don’t even fucking lie to me,”

“What’s wrong…?”

“Who is he?” he asked, his tone more forceful now. “Don’t tell me that he’s no one! Who is he?”

“He’s a friend. A childhood friend. What is this about?” you asked. “Simon…”

“You told me during our wedding night that he was no one but I had him investigated,” he said. You furrowed your brows. “Guess what? I found out that you grew up together. You were seeing him while I was seeing you. You told me you love me!”

“I do love you,” you lied, trying to soothe his worries. “You don’t have to worry about him, you know? We didn’t see each other like that, Simon,”

“Fuck…I gave you my everything and you hang onto this Tommy Shelby cunt. Like, like…I had to buy your love and you gave it to him,” he said, stalking towards you. “I gave you everything! What could he give? He’s poor and he’s in the war. I’m here. I am!” he roared.

“Simon—“

“You are to cut off any ties and communications that you have with the Shelbys, understood?” he spat, pointing a finger at you.

“Simon, they’re my friends! They took care of me,” you pleaded, putting your hands on his waist to appease him but she just shrugs you off.

“I said ‘Understood’?” he seethed. “I gave the Shelby’s and Johnny a hefty sum of money so you won’t have to think of them ever again but you have to promise to never fucking think of them—of him—of-of your life in Birmingham. Do you understand me?”

“Simon, you—“

“I know where Tommy Shelby is in France. Tunnelling. You’ll know better than to defy me. Trust me, I have my ways of getting him and his brothers killed. I know people. Do you understand me?” he spits.

You couldn’t cry in front of him, so you just gulped, nodding.

“I understand,” you whispered, a frown set upon your face. Relief washes over your husband and he pulls you closer.

“You know that I only want what’s best for you. What’s best for us,” he whispered. “You’re my little bird. My beautiful flower, I won’t let anyone else have you. Okay? I’m sorry for making you sad but this is for the best. For us and for the family that we’re going to build,”

“I know, Simon,”

“I love you,” he says but it felt like a threat.

“I love you too,”

BIRMINGHAM, 1915

Tommy,

I hope you’re well. We all pray for your safe return home. Have I told you that Y/N got married this year in London? His name is Simon Coventry, I’m sure you know him as ‘Rich Bastard.’

He truly loves her and has taken care of her so well. We’ve been to their mansion in London multiple times. Finn loves to visit because he gets him everything he wants. Did you know that he gifted Finn his own horse for Christmas? Please, don’t worry about her anymore. She’s in safe hands, in a loving marriage, with a husband that could give her the world.

Pol

(This letter was never sent.)

BIRMINGHAM, 1911

“What do you think will happen to us?” you asked Tommy once. Twenty-one, and you allowed yourself to make bad decisions when it came to him. You were sitting close together in the balcony of your home; it was the morning, and you had the day off because it was your birthday. No serving customers today; Tommy didn’t go to work because you were free.

“We’ll stay together,” he says, like it was a no-brainer. He had stolen a bottle of whiskey in the place where he worked out and you both decided to drink today. Twenty-one and you’d make all bad decisions for Tommy. There was a crinkle in his eyes when he looked at you. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you,” you replied, taking a sip of the whiskey.

“I got you something,” he says, tossing his cigarette butt away. “It’s not as…expensive as what that rich bastard got you, but I was thinking that…well, here,” he says, showing you something wrapped in a handkerchief. “Don’t know how to wrap gifts.”

You took it from him and undid the knot of the handkerchief.

“Tommy…”

“I asked Polly and Ada,” he says. “So, that’s not all me.”

A picture frame of pressed flowers. It was more than that for him. For Tommy, it was a declaration of his love; a life-long commitment to you.

“I’ve been picking flowers that remind me of you for the past year,” he tells you. “Do you like it?”

“I love it, Tom.” you told him, tackling him in a hug. “This is the best thing anyone has ever given me. Thank you so much,”

LONDON, 1916

Simon hardly allowed you to go anywhere without him or at least the presence of a bodyguard since last year. It was understandable, since he was a wealthy man—the world was too dangerous for him. But you couldn’t grasp why you needed his permission to go to the shops, why you needed to ask him if you could do something. Your wardrobe was chosen by him and you hardly had any control over that. The jewellery he bought were things he thought would look the best on you too.

You had to ask him for approval to meet your friends—if you had any. None of them really stayed longer than a year. It was fine, they were never him anyways. They all had ulterior motives when it came to seeking a friendship with you. They were all parties and dinners and events. One time, there was a party in his house. Some charity gathering that you couldn't care less about. You were outside in the garden when one of your employees walked by. You called him to where you were sitting.

“Can you please get me some water?” you asked. “I don’t really want to go back there right now,” you said. You spent the whole night portraying the happy wife; the younger wife and you were sick of it. To them, you were Simon Coventry’s wife. To him, you were somebody he owned. To yourself, you were a prostitute. He basically bought you from that brothel anyway. You sat there silently, allowing yourself to shed the tears that you’ve been keeping.

You were sobbing, trying to comfort your body from the loss of personhood that you’ve experienced. You were a glorified doll for Simon to look at—a pet to protect. He’s never treated you like an equal and you will never be.

Your hands were shaky, makeup staining your face. If only Simon could see you now. He’d lose it. You clutched the locket that Tommy gave you. You told Simon that you needed it, that it was a picture of your mother and that you didn’t want to forget what she looked like. It was shabby; he asked if you wanted a better one, but you declined. When Tommy gave you that locket, he helped you put a picture of your mother right beside his. You still needed to give it back to him.

In the quietness of the garden, you remembered Polly’s advice before your wedding. She was helping you fit into the gown when she started to talk quietly.

“Remember, this,” she started, zipping up your dress. “Take advantage of the world you’re in now. Even if you do not love him, take advantage of what he’s willing to give. Take advantage of everything.”

The employee comes back to you with a glass of water.

“Thanks,” you whispered. “You may go now,”

Simon loved your newfound interest in participating in his business. He always sought you in the brothel for advice. It didn’t matter if you never studied, what mattered was that you were correct. They were small matters in his company. Like, you told him that maybe he wanted to increase the bond to a partnership. Or that he had to host charity events to make his company more appealing; ensure that it was widely publicised.

You were perched on his lap, looking through the documents, while he played with your hair. He was kissing your shoulder as you flipped through the pages.

“Some of my investments have been transferred to your account,” he says and you look at him, surprised.

“Simon—?”

“You deserve it,” he says, continuing his kisses on your shoulder. “You’re my wife. You should have your own money,”

“But that’s…that’s too much,”

“Just enough for you to go on those shopping sprees, if you ever wanted anything,” he says.

“Why—“

“You’ve proven to me that I could trust you after our…disagreement about Tommy Shelby,” he declared. “I’m sorry for cutting you off from your friends in Birmingham, darling but I promise, that they’re being taken care of. Especially Johnny. He doesn’t work in the brothel anymore after I bought him his house in Watery Lane,”

“It’s okay,” relishing in the newfound power that you had over your husband. You turned to him, your knees on either side of his thighs. You straddled him and grasped his chin with your hands. “I know that you only want what’s best for me, right?” you preened, dropping your lips to nibble on his ear. “Tell me,”

He sighs, clutching your body closer to his as you trailed your lips down his neck.

“You’re so good to me, baby,” he moans. “So, so good. I’ll give you everything.”

FRANCE, 1917

Tommy had been injured and was sent to the wards immediately. There was a gaping wound on his chest when one of the tunnel rats shot him. His comrades were quick enough to retaliate; to put him above ground and call for help. He was on the hard bed, wondering if it would be easier to just give up and let the world take him.

“Y/N…” he mumbles, reaching for you. He could see you, see your arms beckoning him to come closer.”Y/N…where…Y/N…”

He mumbles your name over and over for what seemed like an eternity. He couldn’t say anything else, pleading with anyone.

“Just fucking kill me!” he shouts. “Fucking kill me, please…” he sobs, body shaking from the emotions that dwell inside. “Y/N! Y/N! Fucking kill me!” In…in-in the bleak midwinter…Y/N. Y/N.

AMERICA, 1917

“How is it being married to Simon?” one of the guests in some event asked. She was supposed to be the wife of a big oil conglomerate. Simon’s father invested in their business awhile back and had been business partners since.

“He’s kind,” you said. He is…you just can’t love him like that. “It’s amazing being married to him,”

“I see,” she replied. “May I ask where you met again?”

“We met in Birmingham,” was your meek answer, looking for your husband. You hated events like these. The heir and his younger wife. You hated everything about it. Where is he?

“What family are you from?” she asked, oblivious to the fact. Everyone was oblivious to that fact. Simon made sure to never let anyone know that you were a prostitute. ‘For your safety’ he said and you understood. She said that she’ll never forgive you for tainting her wonderful son but Simon said that it was okay. You both didn’t need anyone else.

“Sorry—do you happen to know where Simon is?” you asked, trying to change the topic.

“Can’t stay away from him too long, huh? You must really love him,” she gushed. “I hope I’m the same with my husband but our union was basically something that was already agreed upon,”

“Yeah, I do,” you half-lied. You loved Simon as a friend, as a companion. He tries his best to understand. He’s loving and as far as you were aware, hadn’t kept any mistresses. That came with a price, though. Simon never liked it when a man looks at you too long. He doesn’t like seeing you with the opposite sex. He didn’t like you exchanging pleasantries with them. “He’s the best. He allows me to help him out in the business, you know?”

“You’re involved in his business?” she asked.

“Small things,” you replied. “Arranging charity balls and the like,”

“Your governess must have been a good one,” she replied.

“I suppose so.” You lied, knowing that you could never have been able to afford one. You were living day to day when you were a kid.

The girl only smiled tightly before walking away. You watched her talk to other girls. How beautiful it is to be included in a group! You’ve always felt like an outsider. This room was filled with billionaires and millionaires. This room made up most of the world’s economy and you were a prostitute. You were in the nicest clothes that money could afford but it still felt like the same, cheap lace that you used to wear. You turned to look for your husband but he was already wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Simon,” you greeted, kissing his cheek. You were relieved to see him, somehow.

“Hello, darling. Do you wish to meet my friends?” he asked, kissing the side of your head affectionately.

“Of course,” you nodded, seeing the girl you were talking to with her own husband now. Simon took you to them, never letting your waist go.

“Simon!” the husband greeted, regarding you with a swift look before shaking your husband’s hand. “Is she the wife or a mistress?” he asked, and you frowned.

“The wife,” Simon replied honestly. “Don’t have a mistress,”

“What about that bird you were seeing in…Small Heath? Is it Small Heath?” he asked.

“Haven’t been there since I got married,” he replied. It was true. “By the way, Eric, I do hope your wife watches what she talks about with her other…friends,” he said, and you tilted your head in confusion. The girl looks down in shame.

“What do you mean?” Eric asked. “Surely, Natalia only wished to make an acquaintance. Is that right, Nat?”

“Yes, of course. Whatever Y/N was saying must be untrue,” she said, feigning innocence.

“I see. I must have been delirious when I heard your wife call Y/N boring,” he shrugged. “Anyways, if I see or hear you disrespect my wife one more time, there will be repercussions. Seeing as you’re financially unwell, I would hate to take out my shares in your company. Isn’t that right?”

“Of course, Simon,” Eric coughed, glaring at Natalia. “I apologise, Mrs. Coventry,”

You could only nod before Simon whisked you away.

“Let’s go home. No one’s worth talking to in this shit hole anyway,”

When you got in the car, Simon was already all over you. He was tugging on your sleeves, kissing your neck. You were used to this; the driver was used to this.

“Did I ever tell you that you looked absolutely ravishing in this dress?” he growled, fisting the silk fabric. “The things you do to me, pet,”

“I dressed up just for you,” you whimper. “Do you like it?” You may not love him but he was good. Maybe it’s because you’ve known each other for years…or maybe, you’re more comfortable but Simon was good at what he does. He puts your needs first. In any case, that’s how he likes it. This is what you’ve been doing for about two years. Giving everything that Simon ever wanted from you and taking double back from him. You were wealthy on your own now. If you divorced Simon, you’d never have to worry about life anymore. He had put trusts, investments, and properties in your name that he promised he’d never take away. It was sealed in a document. You were his closest kin. You own everything.

Except your freedom.

“Of course I do,” he confirms, rutting his hips on your exposed thigh. He groans at the contact. “Fuck, are we close?” he asked the driver.

“Twenty minutes, sir,” he replied.

“I’ll triple your salary for the month if you could take us there in ten,” he proposes and the driver speeds up, never minding the laws of the road.

LONDON, 1918

The war has ended and you were close to collapsing. There could only be two things—the brothers made it or they did not. You didn’t have any form of communication with them and you were nervous. What if they didn’t make it?

BIRMINGHAM, 1918

The boys were deployed in Birmingham. Cramped in vehicles, Tommy held the strap of his satchel tightly. He was anxious to see his family. He was so anxious to see you. He never received letters from you even though he wrote every week. He was too afraid that he'd turn his back on his country to come to you but he didn’t care. What kind of man would that make of him?

There were a million things that he wanted to tell you—how he left without ever telling you that he loved you. How your face was the only thing that kept him alive in those tunnels. Would you still love him now that he’s not the same? Would you still soothe him until he falls asleep?

His brothers could see his nervousness. So, Arthur offered him a tight smile. John was looking forward to seeing his kids again.

“She’ll be there, Tom,” Arthur offered. “If anyone’s going to be there, it’s her,”

“Yeah, of course,” Tommy replied. They were nearing Birmingham. They were nearing the place you both grew up in and he felt bad because he should have been thinking about his family but instead, he was thinking about you. The vehicle stops and he takes a deep breath. Will he see you? Will you run to him and finally kiss him like he’s been thinking of for four years? He braced himself as soldiers spilled out into the road. He could see Polly and Charlie with Finn on his shoulders. He smiled, telling his brothers that he saw everyone.

“You boys are back!” Polly gushed, taking the three of them in an embrace. She blinks away the tears. Tommy was searching the crowd for you and Polly could see that. “She couldn’t make it, Tom. She’s in London,”

His heart drops. Why would you miss this reunion? Why were you in London? He nodded wordlessly, keeping to himself while John answered all of the questions. The day after that, he went to your house but saw that nobody was there. He went to the brothel but there were new girls who didn't know who you were. Johnny wasn’t there either.

He went there every day for less than two weeks until one day, he saw a scrap of newspaper sitting in the kitchen.

SIMON AND Y/N COVENTRY PURCHASE NEW HOME IN PARIS AFTER THE WAR.

He furrowed his brows, turning the pages until sure enough, there you were. It was a portrait of you and Simon. He barged into Polly’s room, opening the drawer where she kept memorabilia. There were multiple pictures of you and your wedding with Simon. There was a picture of you and the whole Shelby clan along with Johnny. There was an envelope with a cheque worth a few thousand pounds from Simon. He shook, his heart beating loudly as he let go of everything. You were married. You married Simon Coventry. You didn't wait for him.

“Tommy,” Ada whispers from the door, seeing her older brother crouch in defeat.

“When were you planning to tell me?” he spat. “When?”

“Tommy, we didn’t know how to tell you—“

“Tell me when the fuck were you planning to tell me, Ada or I swear, I will blow this fucking house down,” he threatened, running his fingers through his hair. It’s not the same when you do it. Ada walked towards her brother, seeing her brother so defeated was something new.

“I…” his voice breaks into a sob. “I was under the tunnels and all I could ever think—all I could—I’m smoking fucking opium because I’m so fucking worried and she’s—she’s,” Tommy couldn’t breathe, hyperventilating. “She’s gone, she’s gone…”

There was a ringing in his ears, and he couldn’t hear Ada call for help. He was panicking, tears flowing freely from his eyes. He waited for you. He counted the days until he saw you again, but you were not here. He felt like he was underground again. It was Arthur who calmed him down, slapping Tommy across the face to wake him up. It works, it always works.

“Leave us,” Polly ordered everyone. “Drink some water, Tommy, we have to talk,”

“Pol—“

“Leave us,”

“Polly, it’s not right!” Ada said. “I should’ve listened to her when she told me she didn’t want it,”

“He has to know, Ada. I’ll tell him now,”

“It’s alright, Ada,” he croaked. “Leave us,” His brother dragged his furious sister away. He was embarrassed to have been seen like that—weak. But what else could he do? He crossed the vastness of a sea of fire just to go home to you. Polly sighed.

“It’s my fault,” she said once everyone was out. He exhales, a staggered breath as if he’s been carrying all the weight of love that he has for you.

“It’s all I ever wanted, Pol,” he said, looking down on his lap. A life with you in your home. There’d be a big garden for you to run on. You’ll have so many horses and you'll teach your kids how to ride them. “You know that it’s all I ever wanted,”

“I know, Tom but you can’t blame her,” she said. “She didn’t want to leave and I saw that but what else could she be if she didn’t leave Birmingham? I prayed for your safety everyday, I did. But…but what if you didn’t come back? Would she work at that brothel until she fades? There was an opportunity for her to have a better life outside of Birmingham. I told her to take advantage of it,” she explained, trying to reach Tommy but he flinched away. Polly puts down her hand, clearing her throat.

“She’s all I ever wanted, Polly and you took that from me. You took her-you took her away from me!” he sobbed, cradling his head in his hands. “You took her away. You took her away…”

“She sent you letters while you were away,” Polly said, placing a stack of envelopes beside Tommy. “I’m sorry, Tom but I wanted her to have a good life. Birmingham isn't good for her. You were only going to keep her from making a name for herself,”

Polly nodded to herself before leaving Tommy and a stack of letters that he never received.

He opens the one on top just to check—just today.

Dear Tommy,

Every day passes by without you and I still can’t bear it. I hope you’re well, I hope my letters become a sense of comfort for you.

It’s getting harder for me to spend time with your family. All I could think about was how the two of us would run freely in Polly’s house because you were chasing after me. I couldn’t spend time at home either because my bed reminds me of how much I liked sleeping beside you. It’s so peaceful. I sleep in your clothes sometimes and Ada gave me some of the shirts that you left. I’ll return them to you when you’re back but right now, it’s the only way for me to feel like I could breathe…that someday, you’ll come back to me. I’ll wait. I’ll always wait for you, like I promised.

I haven’t told you everything yet, but I hope I can tell you soon.

Tommy opens another one. What’s another stab to the heart anyway?

Dear Tommy,

It’s been years and you haven't written back. Are you mad at me? I’ll stop writing to you for the meantime but just know that I’ll wait for you.

LONDON, 1919

Dearest,

I’m so sorry to tell you but Johnny has died. Please come to Birmingham soon.

The letter from Johnny’s wife shook in your hands. Big Johnny was dead, and you had to go to Birmingham to the funeral. You ran to your husband’s office. Upon seeing your tear-stained face, his face falls in concern.

“What the matter, love? Did someone hurt you?” he asked, patting his lap, telling you to sit on it. You complied, hiccuping. You were heartbroken but you knew that if you wanted to go, you had to play smart. You had to play the broken doll that he loved to take care of.

“Johnny’s dead,” you whispered, burying your face in his chest. You allowed him the privilege to soothe you. His hand inching their way underneath your shirt for unbridled contact. “Johnny’s dead, Simon,” you cried. “I—I got this…letter,” you said, showing him the crumpled piece of paper on your hand. He had to fire whoever gave you this letter—it was a strict rule that he was supposed to read all the letters sent to you. It was a rule that no letter from Birmingham must arrive in your hands.

“Oh, darling,” he said, kissing your temple.

“I know…I know that I can’t go,” you said. “But…can I please go, Simon?” you asked. “He was like my father,” you whispered. It was true and Simon knew that. Johnny took care of you to the best of his abilities. You told Simon of the stories when you were younger. Him teaching you arithmetic, teaching you how to throw a punch to defend yourself…he helped you move into the house you bought. You’ve never been there for years, and you wondered if Ada continued to take care of it after abandoning them. “I understand if you won’t allow me,” you nodded, removing yourself away from him but he held you closer.

“You can go,” he whispered. He’d have you guarded so that no one could even come to you. No Tommy Shelby. “Do you want me to come?”

“No,” you shook your head, regaining your composure. “I know that the partnership with Alfie Solomons will require your full attention. Do you promise to be home once I arrive? I need you,” You stilled on his chest.

You didn’t know what a lie was anymore.

“Of course, I’ll be here,” he said.

“I can take some of the guards with me for my safety,” you compromised. You weren’t lying, though. The business he had with Alfie Solomons kind of scared you. What if he sent men to take you as ransom?

“Of course,” he said. “Where will you stay? Are there hotels there?”

“I can stay at my old home.” you said. “We can send in some cleaners before I arrive to make it nice,”

“Alright, darling. Are you leaving tomorrow? I’ll send some people now. Will that be okay with you?” he asked. You looked up to him, doe-eyed.

“Yes,” you replied. “Thank you, Simon. I love you,” you said, kissing his cheek. “Thank you.”

BIRMINGHAM, 1919

The Blinders mentioned to Arthur that the old house that Ada takes care of had the lights on. There were multiple servants coming in and out of the run-down house and they asked who was coming. It was the owner of the house. That could only mean…

“Tommy!” Arthur called, nodding at Harry before barging in the special room at the Garrison. “Stop fucking the barmaid and listen to me, mate,”

Grace looks at him sheepishly before excusing herself.

“Fuck, what is it Arthur?” Tommy asked, lighting a cigarette.

“Y/N’s coming back,” he said. Tommy halts, looking at Arthur.

“Arthur—“

“The Blinders saw the lights at her old house open with a fuck ton of servants cleaning up. They asked…told her that the owner of the house is coming back to go to a fucking funeral,” Arthur explained. “She’s coming back, mate. Your Y/N’s coming back.”

Tommy leans on the couch, running a hand through his face. He wordlessly leaves Arthur, not sparing a glance to Grace, before leaving the Garrison entirely. It was midnight, you could be home soon. In the shadows, Tommy waited, his peaky cap making him incognito.

He waited the whole night, smoking his cigarette and looking at the spot where your house could be seen clearly. At around six in the morning, he sees a convoy of high end cars line up. A black Bentley stopped right in front of the house and there you were. Tommy’s breath is knocked out of his lungs. You were dressed in something simple and comfortable for your travel but you’ve never looked so ethereal. The driver gives you his hand to help you and you smile at him. Looking around the place, peace settles in your features.

He doesn’t realise it but his face relaxes too. It’s like he hasn’t breathed in all the years he spent without you. He gulps, not allowing himself to cry. He’s stronger now and he couldn’t let his emotions get the better of him.

He looked on, noticing that Simon Coventry was not with you. It was then he realised that guards dressed formally surrounded your house. It didn’t matter to him. Fuck your husband’s security system. He’ll make a way. Just because there was a change of plans doesn’t mean that you can begin again. He doesn’t care.

You were here. You were finally home, and he wonders if the frame he gave you on your 21st birthday was still there.

PART 3

A/N: Grace will not be romantically involved with Tommy in the story for obvious reasons. There will be mentions of her but they will be minimal. Thank you so much for reading and for giving my story love and support. I hope to see you in the next one!

BTW, we need a face for Simon. Who do you think will be a perfect Simon?

Don’t forget to reblog / leave a comment if you liked it! TAGLIST: @shelbydelrey @runnning-outof-time @duckybird101 @thenattitude @swordofawriter @litteltourtius @trixie23 @everythingelseisextra @majesticcmey @liveat1am @dumb-wh @denabp16 @yvonna-chan @goldensunflowe-r @therosabel @hunnibearrr @dazecrea @daddyslittleattentionwhore @the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf @dang-shawty-okay

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby angst #tommy shelby #peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby fanfic #peaky blinders #fafic #fanfiction #angst #fluff #tommy shelby fluff #protection!tommy #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader

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dykefaggotry · 4 months

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saw this post on my dash (the person who put it there reblogged a version dunking on op for being a t//erf don't worry) and I was gonna say all this in the tags but it got long so I'm gonna say it here

the thing that drives me insane about this argument is that even if it were true.... so what? like the main impact of top surgery & hysterectomies are going to be hormonal imbalances which can be dealt with by that person and their doctor, but even IF it had some dastardly evil harmful horrible awful impact on that person's health... that is just. being an adult human being. hell, just being a human in general bc kids and teenagers also make choices that physically or mentally harm them all the time and that's just part of life and growing up

but like. part of being a person with autonomy is being ALLOWED to do things that might negatively impact your health or life. even if getting top surgery was a one way ticket to excruciating horrible pain (it's not) that would still be someone's personal decision to make

you can easily see this all the time in other decisions people make. people decide to drink themselves sick every day and it's not illegal. people decide to smoke multiple packs of cigarettes every day and it's not illegal. people decide to go out in the sun without sunscreen every day and it's not illegal. and of course a million other decisions that lead to physical or mental harm, but I'm focusing on physical health here bc that's the context.

but if you think that "women" are allowed to make any decision in the world with their health and bodies even if it's negative (drinking, smoking, drugs, lack of sunscreen, abortions (although this is not negative it has to do w health), eating "poorly" or rarely eating or dieting, hell even staying up all night or forgetting to take their meds or letting their chronic illnesses go untreated or literally a million little health decisions we all make every day).... and yet you draw the line at us deciding to get rid of our breasts or uteruses? I don't think you really care all that much about "women's" health and autonomy in any way that's productive.

like idk yall claim to see "women" as full people but god for fucking bid the vagina havers make their own decisions about our own bodies. we are full people too allowed to make whatever the hell decisions we want even if it's not a ticket to 100% health. who gives a shit.

#like can we talk about the influences of these things and if doctors are practicing informed consent? sure #but what we aren't going to do is pretend that dealing w hormonal imbalances is the worst possible thing ever #and that even if it were it should barr someone from making that decision #like babe I promise the daily diet coke I consume is worse for my body than top surgery was

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sugoi-and-spice · 1 year

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So, out of curiosity and need...mostly need with a hint of curiosity...What ARE your hcs(at least the ones that have been revealed but I am big dumb/ones you wish to share) for Tomura in play nice? I know you have a Dust Daddy Bible with this information in it. Sharing is caring. We need our daily juice.

Ooooooh, this is a really interesting question - essentially headcanoning my own character! Lol! I'm trying to think of what Play Nice Shigaraki headcanons I can reveal without spoiling anything/that hasn't already been revealed. Most of my Dust Daddy Bible (LOVE this btw, lol), is backstory that I can't totally reveal yet.

Alright, maybe I'll expand on/clarify some points that have shown up in the series.

Shigaraki didn't go straight from his birth family to AFO's care. He spent about three years in the foster system between then. He had a rough time in it (like many kids do), got in a lot of fights in school and at "home", faced a lot of bullying and abuse, and spent a lot of time on the streets. More details to come in story.

AFO is very aware of Shigaraki's initial extortion of MC - it was, in fact, AFO's intention for MC to be a little hookup for him. He didn't really care how it happened, if she'd be wow'd by money and status or would need to blackmailed, etc - and to be honest, he didn't really care. He could tell that Shigaraki needed an outlet and had tried to hire him hookers/take him to soaplands before, which Shigaraki vehemently rejected. So he figured an arrangement like this would work better.

His insomnia, night terrors, and memory loss are driven by PTSD and to be revealed mental illness. He's cycled a lot of different medications, but very little therapy. The reason for this is, also, to be revealed.

He and Spinner are the same year in college, but Spinner is actually two years older. Dabi is also older, but has a few overlapping GE's with Shigaraki. Shigaraki did know them both before college however, through circumstances that are still to be revealed. (¬‿¬)

Aaaaaand, I guess here are a couple of little fun ones too xD

He hates Hollywood blockbusters almost on principal, especially superhero movies (of course lol). He thinks they paint an unrealistically optimistic view of the world that makes people stupid. The same applies to rom-coms. He's a horror guy, through and through. And while he'll never admit it, MC definitely gets him into reality tv.

He's primarily a PC gamer. His Switch was actually probably his least-touched console pre-story. But since it was MC's main console, he got a lot more into it.

Writing is his worst subject. He has particular trouble with argumentative and creative essays. His best subject is, predictably, math.

While he has a lot of distaste for "popular kids"... he's super into cheerleading uniforms. That whole corruption kink thing. He wanted to go to MC's Sports Festival this year (about a month after they met) until he found out that she was not going to be part of the cheerleading demonstration (she was participating in main events with her club), and got kind of pissy about it.

This was fun! Might add onto this through reblogs if I think of anything else - but if you have any specific questions (or HC's of your own), I'm also happy to give my take on those too! ^_^

Like my work? Please consider contributing to my Ko-Fi!

#TOMURA SHIRAGAKI #TOMURA SHIGARAKI X READER #tomura shigaraki x oc #SHIGARAKI #TOMURA SHIGARAKI #BNHA SHIGARAKI #MHA SHIGARKI #SHIGARAKI FANFIC #READER INSERT #TW DUBCON #QUIRKLESS AU #SPICE WRITES #mha #bnha #play nice fic #headcanons #mha headcanons #shigaraki hcs #hcs

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i4sgwr · 2 years

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NOT SO FAST NOW

ꕤ characters: Eren, Armin, Connie

ꕤ summary: Speed limits are just suggestions, right? (aka: the boys get pulled over for speeding)

ꕤ warnings: gn!reader bc nothing implies anything else, police officer!reader, modern/street racer au, bullet point format + tiny blurbs, idk the specifics of getting pulled over so bear with me

. . . requested by anon! i hope this isn't like, bad (?). i didn't want it to be super long, and it's probably a little ooc but i suppose that's my specialty

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

EREN JAEGER

you knew exactly what was happening as soon as you saw his car zoom by, followed by another. you had been hanging out in your car waiting for him, actually. it’s been said that this area got a lot of racers and of course, you’d be put in charge of catching them.

you flip your lights on and make the trip in the direction of the car you were after, surprisingly catching it just as the race presumably ended.

you see everyone scrambling to leave the area as you approach, but you got to the main culprit just in the nick of time.

“There a problem, officer?”

The brunette in the driver seat gives you a knowing smirk, one you’ve seen one too many times and didn’t have the patience to deal with. Still, you go through the necessary motions.

“Do you know how fast you were going?”

He rolls his eyes with a chuckle, “I do. It was intentional.”

You huff, irritated. What a smartass.

“I’m inclined to give you a ticket, sir,” you state, flatly.

“Awe don’t be like that,” he teases, “We were just having some fun. Can’t you let me off the hook just this once?”

You knew you shouldn’t, and quite frankly you weren’t supposed to. But he said this was the first time he ever got caught — to be fair, you didn’t really believe him, but it was late and you were getting nowhere with him anyway. So you let him off with a warning, to which he responded,

“Make sure you’re the one to pull me over next time.”

As much as you didn't want to be the one to do the job next time, you couldn't seem to get the scenario out of your head. Perhaps he left you with something to think about — unintentionally charming you without even trying.

ARMIN ARLERT

Armin only recently got into racing, after enough convincing from the other guys. he actually enjoyed it though, and genuinely looked forward to his first proper race

it was thrilling — speeding down the empty street with the anticipation of reaching the end first. it was thrilling up until you showed up though.

Armin was immediately taken aback, slightly disappointed in himself as well, knowing this was a more than likely outcome.

“I’m sorry,” the blonde blurts out, before you’re given the chance to speak, "I guess I got a little carried away."

"A little?" you scoff, though you chuckle lightheartedly after, "You shouldn't be racing out here, y'know."

"I know," he sighs.

He had a kind look in his eyes, as if he had no ill intent. You knew he didn't, still, that didn't justify his actions. You should've given him a ticket, yet you were feeling kind tonight.

"How about I let you off with a warning?" you suggest, leaning down to be eye level with him, "I just can't promise you'll get away with it next time, if I'm not the one to catch you."

His eyes widen a bit, like he wasn't expecting you to spare him. He's quick to turn his shock into gratitude.

"O-okay, thank you," he says with a nod.

"Pass the message on to your friends too, alright? Have a good night."

You give him a polite smile, one he returns before you part ways. Armin was admittedly shaken up after his interaction with you — not like you could blame him, he was convinced he'd be leaving with a ticket. And yet he didn't. He was grateful, honestly. God forbid he gets in trouble again, he wouldn't mind too much if it were you to catch him.

CONNIE SPRINGER

Connie knew all too well that he'd probably get pulled over but he didn't really care. he enjoyed racing, it was fun. it wouldn't be an ideal way to end the night to leave with a ticket though, so he still hoped he could get away with it.

he ends up winning the race, shockingly. his adrenaline was through the roof, but his excitement quickly became anxiety when he saw the lights of your car coming.

Connie remains in his car, waiting for you to scold him just like he had anticipated.

You say all you need to, asking him about his speed even though you knew he was aware of it. He simply gives you a run down of the situation, explaining the reason he was driving so fast even though you already knew why. But then, he started to blabber on about why you shouldn't give him a ticket.

"Sir, what kind of person do you take me for?" you cock an eyebrow, amused.

"You seem nice enough," he starts, "You're pretty cute too. You really gonna stress over a speeding ticket when you could be doing something better?"

"This is my job," you state flatly, "You're lucky I'm even making conversation with you."

"I wouldn't mind rescheduling this conversation," he smirks, as if he were implying something.

You roll your eyes, already getting ready to write his ticket. He quickly apologizes, hoping to get out of this despite the situation not looking good. Instead of a ticket, though, you hand him a note with your number on it.

"Don't let me catch you again. You owe me for letting you get off easy."

taglist! [ @bleubrri @discordkittenjoestar @erwnsmith @bunnyyamor @ofallthingswhythis @arlertwitch @thatonerandomsimpinthecorner @prblmtic ]

#[📩] requests #[ hcs ]#attack on titan #aot #eren jaeger #armin arlert #connie springer #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #eren x reader #armin x reader #connie x reader

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meatriarch · 2 months

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GET TO KNOW THE MUN !

what made you pick up the muse you have ? : stares at the roster: ...uhhh...well, maria i chose in a toss up at first between testing out between her and ana, but went with maria because i have a habit of picking up muses that are usually challenging to write from the start -- in this case being, how do you develop for a muse who haunts the narrative rather than is directly part of it. i also just enjoy taking and really going wild with the personal interpretation routes on characters, picking specific points and running with them which i did with maria, and which i did with danny and then nancy. just enjoy scruffing characters with just enough or barely anything to them and going wild. its like having a template at first lmao. and then my remake tcsm muses were picked up because im a 03-06 remakes truther, i just enjoy it more than i do the concept for the original timeline. i enjoyed the dynamics of the hewitts, i loved them as characters and im happy that although they arent part of the of timeline or the games', that theres people open to writing with them and indulging in my ( & lambs ) connecting of the families into one c: birdie's been a remake oc for years on & off, and then pepper i know is a recent add & havent gone over her yet but im re-crafting them both to make them a little more intertwined into the game canon (: but maria's my main muse because she'd just been so easy to write? which i havent had a muse take up so much headspace in some time now but i truly do adore her so much.

is there anything you really enjoy writing ? : unfortunately angst and darker themes to a point are my go-to's. im big on looking at complicated thought processes, on traumas, on grief and rage and how both manifest differently. im out of practice on alot due to writers block but i do remember a time when i was big on writing g.ore more viscerally than i currently do, but that was mostly one-on-one with a writing partner offsite. but i enjoy and typically am more interested in darker plots or connections; but im also a sucker for icky-sweet and endearing themes too c; i just often find myself feeling off about it at the start because i feel i come across cringy at times and i typically second-guess alot of the softer prompts i try writing for lmao but once certain dynamics get formed and im more familiar with who im writing with then it becomes easier c: its partly why im slower to ship with.

is there anything you don't like to write ? : i wont write Certain Brands of darker themes and i prefer not having them on the dash so i usually just wont follow if i see them being written by current or potential mutuals. but otherwise, theres not a whole lot that im exactly against writing. i wont really write usfw content unless ive been writing with someone long enough to feel comfortable with them ooc & if theres at least some chemistry between muses. everything else is just dependent i guess.

how do you come up with your headcanons ? : alot of it just comes in swinging, others are influenced and thought up following someone on the dash bringing up something or there being a random post that got reblogged / spotted that inspires it. some of it comes from just brainrotting backstory info, some of its from tt audio edits lmao or just tt in general sometimes. but ive written a whole mess of different types of characters, and sometimes certain aspects of past ones i feel can fit into current and so bits and pieces of those older characters sometimes get adopted into my portrayals here c:

do you write in silence or listen to music ? : depends!! alot of music DOES inspire alot of the writing! but oftentimes actively listening to music as i write distracts me too much. so ill often instead put on specifc songs in a queue to get myself in that vibe headspace for what im planning to write and and turn it off and dive in -- when, of course, the writers block fuckin' lets me write- lmao

do you plan your replies or wing them ? : i sometimes toss in little notes to myself in the drafts as i set them up, but otherwise? not really. im an A-thru-Z writer -- meaning alot of the time, when i start a draft i either write it out start to finish in one go, or thats the only one ill focus on to try and finish. if i bounce around between drafts like most people do i usually burn myself out for whatever reason. usually if i cant finish it in one session though i have a hard time revisiting it another day, because i lost that initial fuel for writing it through all the way. which is also part of why im fairly slow with replies, im sowwy- ;w;

do you enjoy shipping ? : yes!! i love it but im also big on building chemistry between them first and then going into that route if i feel they click. i dont autoship, even if the muses are in a relationship in canon. because sometimes its simply a matter of interpretation of canons that just dont mesh too well between how muns write them -- and thats okay! but once i feel that theres that connection between them, and doubly so if myself & the mun click ooc too? its so over. like for here especially, the dynamics between maria & lamb's johnny is my most ridiculous ship dynamic ive ever worked with and i love every second of it. the amount of different ways we've developed them for their different routes ( and that we're STILL adding to ) has been so much fun and i adore them so much for all the complicated ways their ship goes. c: but yes, i like exploring ships with people whether in fluff or dire or complicated or same stardust, it just very much depends on the chemistry aspect <3

what's your alias / name? : renee! my middle name c: but if you also call me by fog or creature im gucci. im the cryptid standing awkwardly in the middle of some dark dense trees that scurries away out of sight into the fog when im Perceived lmao

zodiac sign ? : im a capricorn moon, sun, and aquarius rising. (: im a multi-placement capricorn though.

Birthday? : january tenth!

favorite color ? : darker greens so -- viridian, platho, forest (:

favorite song? : uhh... its hard to narrow down so ill just say deftones' passenger / digital bath / entombed / s.extape / cherry waves / rosemary c:

last movie you watched ? : oh. uh. tv / movies i havent watched often at all in so long but hmm... honestly probably the remakes i think? to get clips from.

last show you watched?: haunting of hill house c;

last song you listened to? : rosemary -- deftones

favorite food ?: either carne asada fries / carnitas or salt & pepper wings (:

favorite season ? : autumn!

do you have a tumblr best friend ?: i think just from how we've clicked, i'd say lamb <3 just with how much especially we've crafted not just between maria & johnny but also with johnny & the hewitts c; however i'd also say rae & kels too! i love them all dearly and i send them kisses to the sky for being so much fun to have been writing with & getting to know for these past six months <3

TAGGED BY : yoinked from kels c:

TAGGING : anyone go ahead and swipe this <3

#[ 𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘦. ] ── * the yappening.

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talesfromthegasstationexchange · 6 months

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okay this is the whole rules tm for the exchange

To participate in the Exchange:

1) Fill out the application.

3) Confirm gift pairing within 48 hours of receipt.

4) Notify mod of all tumblr URL changes.

5) Complete a gift by December 22nd.

We recommend that you follow the exchange blog (here) for updates, however, this is not required :))))

Gift Requests*

No OCs or crossovers Alternate Universes are allowed

In the event that an applicant asks for gifts that are too difficult to fill or violate one of the above rules, mods will contact recipients for amendment.*

Gifts

Fanart: Must be a finished drawing, coloured, or rendered black and white - not a sketch. Fanfic: Must have 1000 words minimum, with no obvious spelling or grammar errors.

NSFW: out right im not allowing nsfw related stuff unless someone else wants to mod it. i will be allowing gore related junk since im okay to moderate that gore: although i am allowing it based off of what the source media is i am going to put a 16+ barrier on this one. you can also opt out of making content for these types of gifts if they come up.

Not allowed:

Hateful or abusive content like ship bashing, racism, transphobia, bullying, etc. spam applications will be blocked

Posting.

Put content warnings if applicable. Tag applicable characters and ships. Post between December 23th and 31st. DM or @ mention your gift recipient when you post! Mention @talesfromthegasstationexchange and use #tftgs23 in the first five tags! (Just in case.)

Gifts that do not meet requirements or break rules will not be reblogged.

some may be missed through time zones and tumblr being tumblr but feel free to reach out on here or through my personal in DM,

What is the tftgs Exchange?

A Secret Santa-type event where like minded fans create content for tftgs.

What kind of content is allowed?

Either a finished drawing (as determined by the artist) or a fanfic with a minimum of 1000 words. Can I ask for my designs from tftgs to be used ? Yes you may do so. though you will have to have easily accessible references publicly available for your gifter to use can I ask for another set of designs that are not my own ? again yes, of course but they do still have to be openly available online and you need to mention the artist/ blog that has them in the application

Can we ask for gifts with tftgs ships?

You can ask for any ships, as long as it is with canon characters

Is N.S.F.W. Allowed?

hard lines no. i allow gore based on the source media but nothing beyond that. as well if the gift you create does contain gore it should be tagged and cropped accordingly, and the full piece put under a read more or linked off to another page

If you post something in violation of these rules, we will ask you to fix it prior to reblogging it :)

Can I ask for a gift featuring my tftgs OC?

No. ocs are super valid and i love them. but i do feel though it is very unfair to the gift maker to try and visualise a character they may not know well enough to depict. Can I ask for a gift featuring book related spoilers?

yes! applicants will be separated out into 2 main categories, the audio series and the books. So that no one ends up getting asked to draw or write from part the either haven't read or heard.

How are pairings made?

Applicants will be paired with other tftgs Gift Exchange recipients. it will take preference into consideration; further, i will not force people into making content for their NOTPs and hated characters. Outside of that, please be open to exploring new people and pairings to spread the happiness this holiday season.

i dont want the same person to make for or to be given from last year

thats completely fine, ill try my best to work around it an make sure you get someone diffrent.

I’m not sure if my recipient will like the gift I want to make them. What should I do?

Easy! Anon ask your giftee if you need clarification about what they would want.

If their anon is off, contact me explicitly explaining this, plus any questions you may have. We will reach out for you :>

What if I have to dropout?

it’s sad to see you go!

In the event that you cannot finish your gift, OR something comes up that will delay your gift (even writer’s block!), please DM either ASAP so that we can find a substitute.

Okay. You’ve convinced me. Where do I sign up?

Applications open November 14th! aka today

I posted my gift hours ago, but it hasn’t been reblogged. What gives?

feel free to dm it to my main. ive probs just missed it because my brain is fried @theredheaddevil

Disclaimer:

i cannot be responsible for any applicant that falsley claims to be a legal adult, if you are found out to be lying about your age you will be removed and banned from any following years that i continue to run this. and your pairing from the exchange will be remade

#tftgs #tales from the gas station #tftgs23

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garfable · 1 year

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Art only blog-@garf-art

Names Garf I go by she/he/they/it p much any pronouns and this my humble blog

I love toy and doll collecting some of my main intrests rn being mlp, monster high, and of course garfield

Other things I like include sonic, fallout, steely dan, borderlands, lupin the third and one piece

If your here for art but find my constant random reblogs too much follow garf-art

Also i love and support trans women terfs are not welcome here

If u send me a pic of ur fav plushes ill doodle em

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cephiwyrm · 1 year

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please please please share all of your ocs!!

HELLO YES I WILL??? there was one i was specifically vague posting about in the one reblog which i will NOT but i will share something funny abt him

my ex made a cardboard cut out of him, hated him so much they STABBED HIM and then mailed me the arm, and of course i still own it. ANYWAYS! pulling these from my main toyhouse (i have an ugly watermark i am so sorry) let the rambling begin (extremely long i am so sorry LMAO)

(cutely pulls up a piece of art) alright this is my cherry pop story! they are 3 cryptid / unnatural monster type hunters in a universe that is pretty much exactly like earth 1:1 except it was cats and dogs that became the main dominant species. the main character (aka just the one we see through her POV theyre all main characters to me.sniff) is Annie! she is a quiet and get it done type of character, besides working the 9 to 5 monster hunting job, she really likes games (this takes place in the 2000s btw) and is interested in how mechanical stuff works! also she is a trans icon :)

next is Peyton! shes she nerdy, figure it out type. probably the one in the group the most interested in what they're actually being paid to do; also one of the first ones to notice what is actually going on. she mainly enjoys going out and fucking around with her skateboard and shes a little sillay gal

last but not least in cherry pop is Micah! hes the brawns and usually helps with doing physical objectives, and also just catching the monsters in general if need be. first one to come to conclusions, even if they are SEVERELY wrong. he is captain of the swim team and wishes to go to a bigger college one day (they are in a small town)

OK NEXT !! AFTER PARTY they are some of my oldest ocs (not OLDEST oldest but def. there) and their story is a little all over the place since its with me and my friends and we havent gotten into it recently (its basically a masquerade type kill scenario) all their art is a little old but this is Okano! at a very young age, her father died and she was able to take over a very well off company. Well she doesn't make huge decisions by herself at the moment, she shows great opportunity in the future. she is very distrusting because of it though, and takes a while to warm up to people.

next is kaga! (one next to peyton) shes a little silly gal, shes very reckless and kind of doesn't care about danger shes in it for the thrill. absolutelu kills it being a roller blader, but also just likes walking around with no shoes on. also ! she works in a tattoo shop :)))

now realizing i have a lot of. trio characters huh. anyways! heres kiki. no ur not getting a genuine image bebcause she iisss so baby...... anyways; she is a french vlogger! she loves exploring the world and showing it to her growing number of people. also has a small AU inside of stardew valley :) shes obsessed with seagulls as well

ok realizing i have too many ocs and i dont want this to be like two million word post (30+ on my main and more not even on TH) so ill end off with my TTRPG charas :) this is Milo my druid aarakocra for DnD! on like the second session he got struck by lightining and got a god that way. When he was just a litol baby he wandered off from his home and into a forest where his brother, an elf named Leo, went up to his soon to be mentor/father figure Crechir like CAN WE PLEASE KEEP HIM PELASEEEEEE and may or may not have lied about his entire home burning to the ground later on he found a little gold dragon which when touching different objects changed colour; and was named skittle. little funny thing about skittle was everytime a gold coin was fed, he would grow just a little bit. even more later on, he was sent an ominous message about his birth home about how his mother had died and he was the next chieftan and so he had to go do some special trials in order to become one! he also went to the hell casino and since crechir gave him chips he was able to get an amulet that lets him shift between his two forms, treefolk and birdfolk

and finally, this is Ash for MOTW! she is a twin in a small town in canamerica (canada and america fused because our irl party is in both) due to being a twin, she was born with some spooky (haha her class) powers, and will send her twin Ali memes via telapathy. unfortunately being a teen with powers, she is also kind of very angsty and prone to some bursts of outrage. besides that, she has a very strong interest in wood carving, while her twin loves to hunt crytids, due to the strangeness of their town they have to deal with it every once in a while! they have a pet snake belovingly named banana (or boenana. shes a boa constrictor) and is honestly a teen that is addicated to her phone

ty for reading if you did!! i fucking LOVE MY OCS. SO MUCH. I WILL GO ON AND ON ABOUT THEM UNTIL I RUN OUT OF THEIR ACTUAL STORY

#i will eventually make a post about my splatoon ones #but theyre a mystery... for now #maybe i will also talk about different onces later #long post #worm chat #ty for the ask!

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breezey-with-an-e-art · 3 months

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links, about me, & more!

hi everyone!! my names Breezey, i use he/they/it pronouns and i'm not new to tumblr just only more "recently" posting my works

I draw mainly character art which consists of:

humanoid monsters

humans

creatures/beasts

women

and the occasional man

but i am trying to branch out a bit more i can be off and on with posting so maybe check my other accounts to see what i'm up to, chance is i might've forgotten to post on all of my accounts ^^' also feel free to ask any questions about what i've drawn because 9/10 chances these characters are pretty old and have lots of stories. I absolutely adore seeing ppls thoughts on my art so even if its just keyboard smash don't be afraid to comment!

links & commission info down bellow

my main personal blog where i mostly reblog stuff and occasionally make my own posts

my semi-active DeviantArt that im kinda debating keeping or getting rid of, if i remove this part then it probably means ive abandoned it my twitter with lots more art i probably should post here too ^^'

and last but not least, my kofi! for commissions/tips! depending on how things go i might set up a goal for something, but we'll see how that goes speaking of commissions, im currently in the process of redoing all my commission info, but ill be sure to update once its ready. Ive also set up an Artistree account, which is a site focused on commissions and to help the buyer and artist feel safer about the transaction! i actually think its a nice concept, but of course my commissions aren't currently open.

Once i'm ready i will make sure to set up a post and make an announcement that my comms are open !!

ty for stopping by! have a nice day!

#artists on tumblr #pinned intro

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slothbaby9 · 1 year

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In an attempt to organize this blog as I come back to it... I figured it was about time for about post! Disclaimer that I've never made a post like this before, so bare with me as I try to organize my thoughts.

So! My name is Sam, though I'm okay with answering to pretty much anything. I'm currently 19, and use they/them pronouns. I live up north in the snowy lands of Canada, in the pst/gmt-8 timezone. I do have a full time job, a handful of mental health issues, and chronic illness/pain; this is to say that I do want to be here and be active, but there will probably be times where I'm unable to be on as much as I'd like. I'm also typically mobile bound, so hopefully my posts don't look too ugly.

This blog will be a mix of things, in all honesty, because I don't feel like splitting up accounts to be for different things. The main posts on this blog should be writing related; I enjoy writing fanfiction (mostly marvel based) and creating original written works as well. I'll also be posting some roleplay things on this account as well; interest checks, promos, and searches. Then, of course, there will be the random posts that I reblog.

Now, onto what I write. For fanfiction, I tend to most often write romantic Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes. However, I'll also write fics centering around any of the original 6 Avengers, Peter Parker (though I admittedly lean TASM than MCU), Yelena Belova, Kate Bishop and a maybe a handful of other characters. Though if you'd like to request something with other characters and ships, feel free to shoot me a message and I'll let you know if it's something I think I can do justice! I'll write platonic, familial and romantic relationships between characters, as well as introspective fics. I'll write canon divergent, canon compliant and aus. My inbox is always open to prompts/requests, though I don't promise a timeframe of me writing it.

And then things I won't write... I don't write smut, I'm asexual and bad at writing it out, and I don't feel like it's something that needs to be included in my fics. I will imply and fade to black, but don't expect any of that to be written out. I won't write taboo themes, either. I don't mind if you send me a message to check if it's something I'll write, but if I say no, please respect that. I also won't write Yelena in any romantic/sexual pairing, as she is aroace in the comics.

Requests? Open / Closed

Upcoming Projects

My AO3

#pinned #about

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fortbailey · 1 year

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that person that rb’d from me a bunch even like my clearly delusional posting shit where i talk abt ginger and it made me uncomfortable so of course i blocked but they still followed me on my main nd they were in my notes so i went to their blog and they posted abt how i blocked them on here .. like something somethin ‘people think too much of themselves’ or whatever thinking i did it cuz they were mass liking/rbing from me ? i get spammed loads i dont mind it its that u were reblogging my posts that were the equivalent of me being a little heap on the floor crying over fictional ginger fitzgerald who is real to me because i have issues.like if you relate to that ok i guess keep it to yourself though its my mental illness and im not sharing. my sister will eat you upon my request.

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just-dreaming-marvel · 3 years

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My Superhero

MAIN MASTERLIST

Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 1,500ish

Summary: You and Steve’s relationship is fairly new, so you haven’t told him everything yet.

Notes: I did a Tony Stark one about chronic illness called Invisible Pain. I wanted to do a Steve Rogers one as well.

Feeling completely well on any given day was a luxury. It never really mattered what medicine, diet, or amount of essential oil you put on, your joints hurt. End of story. Of course, it wasn’t completely random. You had Rheumatoid Arthritis, so there was a reason for it. You just sometimes wished that your arthritis was located in specific joints instead of all of them.

You were currently in your apartment getting ready for your fifth date with none other than Captain America’s, Steve Rogers. He was suppose to pick you up in a little more than an hour and, yet, you still couldn’t get out of your pj’s to shower. Your shoulders were causing you excruciating pain. Trying to take your shirt off was bringing you to tears, each try more unsuccessful than the next.

You were at a loss of what to do. You had yet to inform Steve about your chronic illness due to past experiences. Every other man you had dated, or tried to, quickly left you in the dust after finding out that you would forever be sick and that it would slowly get worse with age. So you had told yourself that you would tell Steve once you were official, even though there was still a chance of heartbreak even then. You just wanted to enjoy this while it lasted.

Steve was so sweet, kind, and gentle towards you. You two had met after he accidentally walked into you about two months ago on the side walk. This was only your five date in that span of time due to the missions he was constantly being called on. Though, the two of you texted or talked on the phone whenever you could.

You were currently sitting on the edge of your bed, staring at the typed up message just waiting to be sent. At this point, canceling the date was your only option. You couldn’t change and you had already maxed out on drugs for the night. You sighed, a tear strolling down your cheek, as you pressed sent.

You: Hey, Steve :) I’m so sorry to do this to you at such late of notice, but something’s come up and I won’t be able to make it today. Sorry :( Can we reschedule?

It didn’t take long for Steve to respond.

Steve: hey doll :) is everything okay?

You: Yeah, I’m just not feeling the greatest. But I’ll be fine after some much needed rest. How does next Friday sound?

Steve: Next Friday sounds wonderful. But are you sure you’re okay? Do you need anything? I could come over and we could stay in for the night. Order food and watch one of the movies I’ve yet to catch up on.

This man was too good to you. Almost too perfect. But you were too scared. You didn’t want to lose him just yet. You were enjoying it too much to be hurt already.

You: I’ll be fine, Steve. I just need some rest. You should probably get some too. I’ll talk to you later.

He didn’t respond. You sighed, laying back on your bed, tensing at the pain in your joints. You closed your eyes, trying to will your pain away, to no avail. Apparently, you had slightly fallen asleep because when a few knocks sounded at your door, you jumped up. Immediately regretting it because of the pain that shot through your joints.

Confused, dazed, and in pain, you shuffled over to the door. You didn’t even bother checking the peep hole before opening the door. Your jaw practically dropped to the floor at the sight in front of you. There was Steve, standing there in sweatpants and sweat shirt, your favorite flowers in one hand and two boxes of pizza in the other.

“Steve?” You questioned quietly, willingly yourself to stay put instead of run away embarrassed. You knew you didn’t look your best. “What—what are you doing here?”

“I came to check on you,” he responded with a gentle smile. “Can’t have my best girl feeling unwell now, can I?”

“Steve,” you shook your head, “you really didn’t—“

“Of course I did. Now, are you going to let me in or do I have to let myself in?”

Biting your lip, you opened the door wider, letting him walk in. Steve went straight to the kitchen, setting the pizzas down on the counter.

“Do you have a vase?” He asked, looking around. “For the flowers?”

“Under the sink,” you responded. “Um… I’m going to change.” You pointed over your shoulder, immediately regretting it and grimacing.

“Y/N, is something wrong?” His concerned eyes raked over you.

“No, nothings wrong. I just need to change. I-I haven’t gotten out of these all day.”

The look in his blue eyes told you all you needed to know, he didn’t believe you. You turned around as quickly as you could. You could feel his eyes following you as you disappeared into your room. You slowly pulled down your pj pants, holding in a cry as you did. Pulling up clean sweats was easier, thankfully. It was the new shirt, you knew would be the killer.

Taking a deep breath, you grabbed the hem of your shirt and tried to pull it over your head. Failing to conceal the whimpered cry that left your lips, you heard Steve’s quick footsteps stop at your door.

“Y/N?” He called outside the door. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you responded, clearly your throat. “I’m fi-fine.”

“Are you sure? Do… do you, uh, need help?”

“No! I’ll be right out.”

Steve didn’t move from his spot outside your bedroom door. In fact, he leaned in, pressing his ear to the door. He could hear you breathing deeply, like you were trying to calm down. Which concerned him. You had told him that you hadn’t been feeling well, but you looked like you were fine. So what was going on? He waited, keeping quiet at your door.

Inside, you were still trying to get your shirt off. You were riding it up, but you couldn’t get it past your breasts. You let out a louder cry, finally breaking. Steve couldn’t wait any longer, he came in to see you in tears on your bed.

“Oh, doll,” he cooed, heart breaking at the sight of you. He rushed over and sat beside you on the bed. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m… I’m so sorry, St-steve,” you cried. “I didn’t want you to find out like this… honestly, I hoped you would never find out.”

“Find out about what?”

He went to put an arm around you, to pull you into him. But when he put his hand on your shoulder, you winced and let out a small whine. His hand quickly was off your shoulder and the furrow between his brows increased.

“Y/N? What’s going on?”

“I… I… I’m sick.”

“Like, with the flu? Or… or worse?”

“I guess, you could say, something in between.” You looked at Steve to see him intently listening. “I… I have arthritis. Rheumatoid Arthritis. It’s where, well… my body is attacking its own tissue and joints. Even… even my internal organs. As I age, it will slowly get worse. Possible bone erosion and joint deformity… It’s painful, but I’ve been able to manage it. I still have good days and bad. Today… today’s—“

“A bad day. Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Because all the other guys I’ve dated have left me after finding out. I… I like what we have. And I don’t want to lose it. But… but I’ll understand if this is too much for you.” You looked down at the hands resting in your lap. “It is for everyone else.”

“Y/N… can you look at me, doll?” He carefully guided your head back up. “I am so extremely sorry that others have been so stupid. They obviously don’t know what they’re missing out on. And I guess that makes me lucky, cause now I get to know you and get to fall in love with you.”

“You’re… you’re falling in love with me?”

Steve nodded. “Yes. And I would like the opportunity to keep doing so, if you’ll have me?”

“Of course. Will you… will— you still want to date me?”

“The fact that you go through life every day, trying your hardest and pushing yourself, even though you don’t have to. That only makes me fall more in love with you.” He gently cupped your cheek. “You’re a real superhero.”

You giggled. “No, I’m just—“

“My superhero. You’re my superhero.” He pressed a short kiss to your lips. “Thank you,” he whispered, “for telling me. Please know that you don’t have to hide from me. I really don’t want you to. I want to help you in any way I can.”

“Thank you, Steve.”

He gave you another kiss. “Now, how about we eat the probably cold pizza and watch anything you want?”

“I’d like that.”

I have Rheumatoid Arthritis, but I would like to remind people that everyone who has it suffers from it differently. This story is based off of my own personal pain and struggles. I go through most days pushing through the pain that is constantly there without most people realizing. And I know that I’m not the only one.

Remember, everyone is going through unseen challenges. Please be kind to everyone you interact with/come across.

Comments, likes, reblogs, and asks are always welcome!

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