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shelby-fangirl00 · 1 year

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Hi I'm new to your blog❤️it's nice to see more peaky blinders fans.

I see you're taking request:

Tommy Shelby has a wife who's very shy. The family is still very mind blown about it

Hi there! thank you so much for the request! I hope this is alright, I'm a little unsure of it but I gave it a go!

Word Count: 1231

Shy

‘They don’t like me Tommy…I just know it.’ You expressed to your new husband as you rode into Small Heath.

You and Tommy were on your way to meet the rest of the Shelby’s at the Garrison tonight. It was Tommy’s birthday and Polly had planned a party at the Pub.

You and Tommy had been married now for just a few short months. You had been arranged to marry Tommy when your family, the Lee’s, and the Shelby’s needed to join forces and end a long feud. You and Tom’s marriage was very much an economic proposition. You had always understood this. You hadn’t planned on marrying someone you actually loved and cared for anyways.

Your mother, Zilpha Lee, had prepped you for this day. Marrying someone you family had chosen for you. When you first met Tommy on the wedding day, you were quite intimidated by his presence.

Now, you and Tommy had been married for a few months, and to your surprise, you both had grown quite fond of each other. You didn’t know if he was someone you could fall in love with, but he was the closest you had ever gotten to that feeling. He took care of you and spent time with you. You felt safe with him. You had shared interests, so it wasn’t hard to be around each other. It meant the world to you, but it also surprised you as well. He seemed like a cold man at first, but he had much more to offer under the hard exterior than what you expected.

‘Love, what would give you the impression that they don’t like you? They barely know you. Just be yourself…like how you are around me, eh? I like you, so why wouldn’t they?’ He asked you as you both stood outside of the Garrison doors.

He made it sound as if it was no big deal that you were going to be spending time with his family. It was a big deal to you! You weren't good at talking to people really. You were quite shy and unsure of yourself sometimes, which was odd since you were now a Shelby. None of them were like you. They knew who they were and weren’t afraid of anything, it seemed like. But you tried to trust your husband, he usually proved you right.

You inhaled deeply and exhaled, straightening out the tight pink dress you had worn, worried if it was too much to for the Pub. Tommy eyed you down, seemingly knowing exactly what you were thinking.

He turned to face you and took your hands to hold in his, forcing you to face him. He was so beautiful that it was almost annoying. His dark brown hair fluttered in the cool breeze. His sharp features softened under your gaze.

‘Let’s go in, have a drink, and if my sister doesn’t snatch you away from me immediately, we will stay together. Relax, love. These people are your family too now.’ He said to you, making you feel a bit more heard. You gave him a reassuring smile.

Suddenly, John drunkenly stumbled through the double doors, giggling.

‘Oi, Brother! Happy Birthday Tommy!’ He huffed out, trying his best not to fall over.

‘Yes, thank you John boy!’ Tommy chuckled, giving him a firm pat and grip to his shoulder. John then turned to you and smiled widely.

‘Well good evening Mrs. Shelby! We’ve been waitin’ for ya’ all night! May I? He asked you loudly as he extended his arm out as a gesture for you to take it and allow him to escort you inside.

You looked at Tommy for some type of approval. He smiled softly and nodded, throwing you into the lions den.

Without thinking, you wrapped your arm around John’s and he grinned with satisfaction.

Tommy followed behind you as John led you into the bar and to the room on the right to you. As you entered, you were greeted by all of Tommy’s siblings and his Aunt Polly. You suddenly felt dread creep up your spine as all of the intimidating faces studied you and Tommy.

Along with family, you were approached by several men you didn’t really know, but they were around Tommy often. The swarm of people had you feeling overwhelmed. You didn’t expect all of these people to be here. You tried to keep your eyes down in order to avoid conversation with any of them.

' love! Come’on, let’s get you a drink, yeh?’ Polly asked you over the loud voices that surrounded the both of you. Before you could respond, she took your wrist and pulled you gently to the table away from the crowd of men. Ada was sitting there too.

You slowly sat down in the booth by Ada.

‘Uhm...thank you, I felt a little out of place over there.’ You chuckled, looking at Polly for the first time tonight. She had very smart eyes. You had met them both just once before at the wedding.

‘You’ll get used to having the load of fucka’s around. They’re not so bad though.’ She smiled out as she poured you a glass of whiskey. You thanked her and threw it back quickly, needing to relax.

You tried to think of something, anything to say, but you couldn’t think of anything. Thankfully, Ada chimed in.

‘You’re quite shy, aren’t you?’ She asked and you shuddered.

Sighing loudly, you took it upon yourself to pour another drink and down it again.

‘Its that obvious then?’ You laughed.

‘Oh no, course not! Well…yes, actually. We just aren’t used to the women in this family to be soft spoken, love. We sure as hell aren’t. But don’t ever feel like ya need to be either, alright?’ Polly said as Ada smiled in your direction, extending a soft squeeze to your hand as a gesture to reassure you.

You immediately started to soften, feeling a bit more at ease now that the elephant in the room had been addressed. Yes, you were quite shy and soft spoken at times, but now you felt a bit more understood, in a way.

‘Thank you both…I’m sure I’ll find my voice soon enough around all of you, yeh?’ You asked them, half-jokingly.

They both smiled at each other and then back at you.

After a little while longer of getting to know Ada and Polly, Tommy came to finally join you at the table. You were having such a good time that you nearly forgot Tommy was in the room with you. He slid into the booth gracefully, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. He looked in your direction and gave a devilish grin, a cigarette hanging from his peachy lips. His two brothers followed behind, sitting in the chairs across from you both.

‘Having fun?’ Tommy looked down at you, tilting his head.

You responded by stealing the cigarette from his lips to plant a soft kiss onto him. This left a surprised look on his face. He wouldn’t have ever expected you to be so affectionate towards him in public, but you felt much more comfortable than before. Maybe it was just the whiskey though.

By the end of the party, you forgot all about the nerves you felt at the beginning of the night. John and Arthur made you laugh harder than you ever had before. You were louder than usual, more talkative than you ever thought you could be. It all started to just feel natural, like they really were your family. You felt a bit more like yourself after that night.

#peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders x reader #thomas shelby fluff

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skaldish · 1 year

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What is Norse Heathenry?

Norse Heathenry is a contemporary pagan spirituality derived from the beliefs, customs, superstitions, and folklore of the pre-Christian Norse people. It is one of a few different kinds of Heathenries, which include Slavic Heathenry and Teutonic (Germanic) Heathenry.

The word "heathen" means "of the heaths." However, it's not a word the Old norse people themselves used. They didn't have a word for their spiritual belief system, as they didn't distinguish this from all other aspects of their lives. Rather, "Heathen" was coined by Christian writers to refer to Scandinavian pagans (this is also why it's sometimes used interchangeably with the word "heretic").

Nowadays, Norse Heathenry is referred to by many names, which reflects different developing iterations of it. Amongst these names are Norse Paganism, Asatru, and Forn Sidr / Forn Sed.

Where does Norse Heathenry come from?

Norse Heathenry comes from the Nordic countries of Europe: Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Iceland, and the Faroe Islands. These places are also known as the homelands of the vikings. But despite their shared origins, Norse Heathenry is not the religion of the vikings. This very large misconception has a very long, complex history behind it, owed to a combination of commercialization and fascist tampering. The Heathenry we see in America is extremely muddied from these influences. Fortunately, we now have the means to disambiguate it, thanks to increasingly accessible cultural exchange.

The following explanation is a product of ongoing anthropological, theological, and cultural research, in combination with what we know about the historical.

Norse Heathen Beliefs

Unlike organized religions, Norse Heathenry is (and has always been) a decentralized belief system. This means it has no universal doctrines, no orthopraxy or orthodoxy, no holy texts, and no religious figurehead governing it. When you hear people say "There's no 'right' way to practice Heathenry," this is generally what they're referring to.

However, Norse Heathenry does have a distinct way of thinking about and viewing the world, and it's very different from what we usually see here in the US. If you're feeling stuck trying to figure out how to "do Heathenry," this would be why.

Animism

A staple of Norse Heathen epistemology is Animism.

Usually, Animism is defined as the belief that all things have a spirit or vital essence to them. But this is only one definition of many, and not the definition that applies here.

The Norse concept of Animism is "the awareness that all things are part of an interdependent ecosystem." This changes how we engage with everything around us. We understand that when we interact with the forces of this world, they will interact back on their own merit. Our relationship with all things is a social one, and we're not spectators in our environment, but active participants at all times.

This stands is stark contrast to the way the USAmericans typically view the world: As a landscape to either test or be tested by, with the forces of the world acting as the means through which this is done.

Additionally, there's no separation between the sacred and the profane.

Immanence

Faiths that focus on spiritual ascension, enlightenment, or attaining a good afterlife are known as transcendent faiths.

While Norse Heathenry has some transcendent elements, it's ultimately an immanent belief system, which means its focus is on living life for the sake of living, as opposed to living life to receive a good afterlife. A good afterlife is already guaranteed.

(Some Heathens may strive for a specific kind of afterlife, however, which do have certain conditions for accessing. But these are elective rather than required, and different as opposed to superior. It's all a matter of preference, at the end of the day.)

The Norse Gods

Many people are already familiar with the Norse gods, such as Thor, Odin, Loki, and Freyja, but not many people are familiar with how they operate as gods.

In Hellenism and Religio Romano, the gods are divine lords who preside over different domains of society. It's a reflection of what the ancient Greeks and Romans highly valued in their civilizations: Law and political/civic involvement.

In Norse Heathenry, however, gods don't operate in a lordship capacity. Instead, they're more like celebrities in that they're celebrated figures everyone knows about.

While they don't rule over one thing or another, the Norse gods often act as allegorical representations of worldly phenomena. Thor is to thunderstorms as Loki is to "random-chance odds." SIf is to wheat-fields as Odin is to the old wandering beggar. Frey and Freyja represent masculine and feminine principles, Skadi the driven snow and foggy winter, and so on. The gods exist as worldly experiences inasmuch as they exist as ideas.

Lastly, but importantly, the Norse gods don't distribute rewards or punishments in accordance with on one's actions or deeds, nor do they tell us how we ought to live our lives. The way they interact with us depends on our individual relationships with them, which can be just as diverse as the ones we have with each other.

Myths & Folklore

What people often refer to as the "Norse Myths" are stories found in two old Icelandic texts called the Prose Edda and the Poetic Edda. These texts are special because they're the oldest and largest collection of tales featuring the Norse deities.

However, these texts represent just one region's period-specific interpretation of Norse folklore. They also only represent a fraction of the tales that still circulate within Nordic oral traditions, so not only are they not "canon" in the usual sense of the word, they're also just a sample.

This is all to say that Norse Heathenry doesn't have a hard body of mythology. It certainly has a defined one, but its definition is built from local legends, fairy tale humor, songs, customs, superstitions, and family folklore in addition to what survives on runestones and parchment. The corpus of Heathenry is very much a living, breathing thing.

Spirits

Norse Heathenry recognizes a wide variety of different beings, the likes of which can be found all around us. Some of these beings are like how we typically imagine spirits, in that they're incorporeal or otherwordly, while others are physical but may play tricks on you so you can't see them.

Like many things pertaining to Heathenry, there isn't a universally-shared classification system for Norse beings. But generally-speaking, beings are defined by their natures and the manner in which they relate to the rest of the world, rather than their morphology. For example, Trolls can take the appearance of rocks, trees, and also living people, but they can also be incorporeal spirits. This is all, however, the same kind of Troll, rather than being different types of trolls.

This is also why the lines between "spirit", "god," and "ancestor" can become very blurry at times. In English use, these are all typically labeled under the category "vaetter." Sometimes "wight" is used to refer to spirits of various types, but isn't often used to refer to gods.

Typically, the way people interact with spirits entirely depends on what kind of spirit they're dealing with, as well as their disposition towards human beings. Some spirits may enjoy a personal relationship, while others are best when left unbothered.

Values & Morality

Because Norse Heathenry has no doctrine and is immanent in nature, it has no fixed value system. Just like the stories were decentralized, so were the Norse people's values.

This is a feature as opposed to a flaw, and a fact as opposed to a theory. But it also has a habit of making Americans very uncomfortable.

For this reason, Heathens sometimes choose to construct their own value system to observe as part of their practice. But what those values are is up to each individual, and individual community, if applicable.

Anyone claiming Norse Heathenry has a universal value system is either new to Heathenry, or selling something.

Veneration

Heathen veneration is not just limited to gods, but also includes ancestors and even certain kinds of spirits, such as nisse/tomte.

Like most things in Norse Heathenry, what, who, and how a Heathen chooses to venerate is their choice to make. One popular observance across the globe is to craft altars, shrines, or similar sacred spaces for the entities one venerates. If a Heathen lives in a house that has a nisse (similar to a gnome), they might leave porridge (with butter) by the hearth for him, and he'll in turn bless the house with good luck and fortune.

Oftentimes, relationships with entities are very interpersonal. Heathenry's animistic and immanent nature means entities are rarely cold and distant, including the gods.

Misconceptions!

A list of misconceptions off the top of my head:

The practice known as 'Odinism' is an invention of the Germanic Volkish movement, which was the social precursor to Nazi Germany. This is also, unfortunately, the first kind of "heathenry" to be brought to the US, back in the 1970's. It was spread through the country via one of the fastest-moving networks at the time: The US prison system.

The Black Sun is a Nazi symbol, not a Heathen one.

No, Norse Heathenry is not a closed practice.

No, you don't have to have Scandinavian heritage to practice Norse Heathenry. Blood quantum is not a thing.

The rune alphabets are old, but the method of runecasting is new.

So is the use of magical bindrunes.

Bindrunes are also different from Galdrastafir. The latter is actually a form of Jewish-Christian-Norse syncretism and needs to be taught orally since it's a mystery tradition. You can still slap the Helm of Awe on things and look cool about it though.

Norse Heathenry is not the same as being a viking, and Norse Heathens are not vikings. However, some Heathens partake in viking reenactment as an extension of their practice.

There's no good or bad gods in Norse Heathenry. All the gods are capable of great good and great bad, just like people. They're fallible, and that's what makes them relatable.

Odin and Loki aren't at odds with one another.

You don't need to wait for a god to pick you to start venerating them.

If you're interested in learning more about any of these in-depth, check out the website I've built on Norse Heathenry, located in my pinned post!

#norse heathenry #norse paganism #asatru #heathenism #norse polytheism #heathenry

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lunaekalenda · 8 months

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"Teach me how to kiss."

Both of you are sitting in his couch, sharing a couple sodas and some snacks, when you ask him. Satoru holds his laugh for himself until he feels your serious gaze on him, the smile disappearing little by little from his face as he takes a long sip, suddenly thirsty, before asking.

"For real?" "For real."

It's not that he doesn't want to kiss you - damn, he really wants to since your very first day of Uni, years ago. He has been trying not to mess up your long friendship, trying not to obstaculice your dates with Ryomen, Suguru or any other man that he would easily surpass. He was never able to date anyone, he says that it is because he didn't find anyone to match, but the truth is that somewhere, very deep down on his mind, he still has faith for you both.

He's terribly curious about what your cute mind is thinking to ask him such a favor, so he leaves his grape soda on the table before taking off his glasses, looking directly at you. "Why? You don't even know if I know how to kiss properly, although I obviously do. Why so sudden?"

Your cheeks start to gain heath as you avoid the man's blue eyes, that look at you with curiosity. "I feel like... I'm not good enough at them." Satoru arches one brow while still looking at you, not really convinced by your argument, but still up to help. You thank him silently for that. You've been thinking how you could steal a kiss from your best friend, the man that has been by your side since you were teenagers and the same one that makes your heart beat like crazy. Confessing and telling him your feelings can wait, but the necessity to kiss him is too strong.

He takes your soda away from your hands, before turning your body sweetly to face his, smiling towards you with that cocky smile he always has on.

"Kissing is definitely not easy, but don't worry, I'll help you and show you how to properly kiss. You should thank your handsome, talented and altruist best friend for the class." The truth is that he feels 19 again when he sees your tongue caressing your lips, ready to kiss. He feels like he's again heavy crushed, deep down in love with someone who only sees a friendship. So, if you were asking him to teach how to kiss, how could he say no to his most longing lips?

He gets close to you, so close, you can even smell the grape on his breath, a sweet and fruity smell that you're wishing to try from his mouth. The closeness is already perfect, and the ambience turned more intimate now. Scared of making noise and break it, Satoru whispers against your mouth.

"Should you start to show me what I should teach you first?"

Taking a lot of courage, you get closer to him until your lips meet his. It's just a peck, a ghost touch of your mouths, but Satoru can feel an army of butterflies up and down his body. Godess, why did he wait to kiss you?

"Alright, alright, I can see th-" the sentence is never finished as your lips cover his again on a hungry, desperate kiss. Your hands find his neck as his travel to your cheeks, pressing you closer and taking your kiss deeper. You try to get closer to his body, almost impossible, knees on both sides of his body guided by Satoru. He bites your lower lip before parting, both breathless, still sharing a last peck while catching air. You smile when he caresses one of your legs slowly, smoothly.

"How did I do?" you ask, still whispering against his mouth.

"You need a couple more lessons."

#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #satoru x reader #satoru x you #gojo satoru fluff #satoru fluff #gojo fluff

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little-diable · 1 year

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Pen Pals - Tommy Shelby (smut)

Boy, do I adore working on fics with @zablife – thank you for adding your beautiful touch to this fic and for writing Tommy's letters. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Tommy and the reader have been pen pals as teenagers, though ripped apart by the war. Now, as she is trapped in an abusive marriage, she finds Tommy's old letters again, and she can't help but wonder if he had made it home from war, and if so, could if he could be the helping hand she's desperate for?

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, mentions an abusive husband and a gun, a very happy ending

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (5k words)

header by @deathofpeaceofmind

(Y/n) could still remember the call she had found in the paper as she had been a young teen, asking children and teenagers from the United Kingdom to send in their addresses, to find pen pals they could practise writing with. She had been filled with excitement, and even though her father had told her to not follow the call, undoubtedly worrying about the mail they’d receive, she still had run all the way to her post station to send off a letter, asking them to pair her up with a pen pal.

It had taken weeks for the first letter to arrive, addressed to (y/n) in a slightly wonky handwriting, introducing himself as Tommy Shelby. Back then she hadn’t even dared to guess the kind of friendship that would form between her and Tommy, the young boy from Small Heath, a city she has never been to before.

Ever since Tommy had written that very first letter, (y/n) had started to share her deepest secrets with the boy, confiding in the one she’d eventually fall for, without ever meeting him. But life hadn’t been kind to the two, ripping them apart before they could have even tried to grasp the chance to meet, before she or he could board a train to finally cross the endless hours laying between their homes.

War had been cruel, to both their families, killing innocent lives before they could evolve into the people they were destined to be. (Y/n)’s heart had ached in her chest when Tommy’s very last letter had found its way to her, saying goodbye to the woman that had been by his side for the past years, at least on paper, one with the ink soaking through the expensive paper they’d steal from their family members close by.

She had collected every letter he had written, stored away in a box she hadn’t opened in years, long forgotten like the words she had once known by heart. Within the first few months of the war people would talk about for decades to come, she had found it too painful to think of Tommy, wondering if he was still alive, breathing in the smell of gunpowder, of dirt and blood. The mere thought of said vile mixture had brought tears to her eyes, clutching the fabric of her blankets when she was laying awake late at night.

The years had passed and with those years the memories of his letters had faded, allowing her heart to make peace with the ghost of old times she had run from. It was almost ironic how she had found the wooden box again, trying to hide the gun she had bought from a man down the street, needing to find something she could use to protect herself against the man she had married, one with the alcohol he’d pour down his throat, with the money he made from gambling, and the anger he’d unleash upon her in moments he’d call ‘moments of weakness’.

Her hands had trembled as she had grasped the first box she could find hidden in the back of her closet, freezing she felt the all too familiar wood beneath her fingertips. Tears had welled up in her eyes, fingers stroking along the outlines of the box before she slowly opened it. The gun had been long forgotten, placed on the ground next to her kneeling frame as she started reading the letters, mind racing, just like her heart.

With her breath hitched in her chest, (y/n) reached for the last letter she had received from him. She could still feel the pain his words had unleashed upon her, forcing the young woman to accept that he may never write to her again, buried with those that left their homes with hopeful hearts and strong minds, set on winning the war.

“Dearest Y/n,

I am writing to thank you for your last letter and the photograph you enclosed. It will surely bring me comfort when I am far from home. I must admit that I have been thinking of you often as I prepare to leave, knowing we will not be corresponding as frequently or perhaps at all. I never realised how much my happiness depended on you and the words we exchanged over the years. I know now that you’re the only girl who has ever mattered.

Take care of yourself whilst I’m away. I will do my best to return if only to see your lovely smile in person one day after this war has ended.

Yours, Tommy”

While her heart screamed at her, cursing (y/n) for forgetting about the man she had once planned to marry, crossing the country to make her way to him, her mind started questioning if there was even just a slight chance of Tommy being still alive. Perhaps it had been her own moment of weakness, and yet she couldn’t stop herself from searching for a piece of paper and some ink, starting scribbling down words she could barely read with the tears blurring her vision.

“Dear Tommy,

God, it’s been years, hasn’t it? And yet I can still remember the endless hours I’ve spent pressed against the window of my parent’s living room, waiting for your letters to arrive. How oblivious I’ve been, too naive to understand that life would rip you from me. For years I’ve tried to make my peace with the thought of you amongst other fallen soldiers, but it seems as if the pain has never quite subsided.

Sometimes I catch myself dreaming of the life we could have shared, the house we would have lived in and the children we could have had. An easy life that now seems more far away than ever before. Perhaps it’s foolish of me to rip open the wound that hasn’t properly healed, but just the slightest chance of you still being alive seems a price worth paying.

The naive child living inside of me is hoping for your reply, anxiously awaiting the darkening truth to be revealed. But if you’re receiving this, know that I’ve never stopped loving you.

Yours, (y/n)”

For a moment she had debated telling him about the situation she found herself trapped in, the loveless marriage she was a hostage of, but she didn’t have the heart to do so, scared that somebody besides Tommy would read the letter. And so she folded the paper, staring at it for a few moments before she rose from the floor of her walk-in closet, praying to whoever was listening, that the old address of his would still be the right one.

…

Weeks have passed since (y/n) had sent off the letter, using the address she still knew by heart, a shot in the dark that would probably never be returned to the light. It had been foolish of her to write the letter, forcing her further down memory lane, a path she couldn’t retreat from, stuck in the emotions her younger self had carried deep inside of herself, loving a man she hadn’t ever touched before, a man she hadn’t ever spoken to before, only knowing his handwriting and the thoughts plaguing him.

And while (y/n) had spent most of her past days trapped in her thoughts, her husband had found his way back home, drunk off his mind, smelling of places women like her wouldn’t be allowed to enter. Fear simmered deep inside of her, mixed with the slightest bit of hope, praying to God that Tommy would reply, or at least somebody who knew of Tommy Shelby.

It was early in the morning by the time her doorbell went off, forcing (y/n) out of bed with trembling limbs, arms slung around her waist to try and shield herself from the cold of the morning. Slowly she moved towards the door, opening it just enough for her to take in the body on the other side of the door, “Morning, (y/n), here I thought this may be of importance to you.”

A letter was pushed into her outstretched hand by the postman, sharing a slight smile before she murmured a “Thank you, Frank”, watching him move away. Her heart picked up its pace, eyes staring down onto the address of hers that had been written by a handwriting she didn't recognise. Slowly but surely the daunting realisation began to settle in, this hadn’t been written by Tommy. Times may have changed, but if there was one thing she was certain of it was Tommy’s handwriting. Was this what she had been fearing? Was he no longer human but bones and rotten flesh?

Tears welled up in her eyes, making it harder for her to see as (y/n) found her way back to her empty bed. She stared at the envelope for a few moments, trembling hand wiping away the falling tears. It felt worse than she had imagined, a pain so biting, she felt bile rise in her throat. A pain that was guided by her anger, anger addressed at those greedy men that have ripped millions of people from their families, greedy men whose decisions have forced Tommy to part from their evolving bond.

A deep breath was exhaled as (y/n) opened the envelope, careful not to destroy the parts that had the address of the sender written on them, an unfamiliar street she hadn’t heard of before. Her trembling fingers unfolded the letter, freezing as she read the first few words.

“Dear Miss Y/L/N,

I apologise for any delay in correspondence as my secretary is unfamiliar with this address.

Of course, I remember you and the years of our acquaintance before the war. As you say, much has changed with time. I’ve a business in Birmingham, Shelby Company Limited, as well as several race horses which occupy my time. I cannot give quite so accurate an account of my time in between as you have done. My memories of the war and the subsequent years are not pleasant ones. However, I confess I keep your photograph by my desk as a reminder of simpler times when the world was a better place.

It is my hope that you have found happiness in your life. I am told it is a choice one must make for themselves though I still seem to be deciding. Perhaps I should flip a coin as I would have done in the old days?

Sincerely, Thomas Shelby”

He was alive. Tommy Shelby was alive. A sob wrecked through her, followed by another. (Y/n) pressed the letter against her chest, holding it tight as if she was hugging Tommy. A man that had changed like the tide rolling in, a man who had left behind his happiness on a warfield, a man who no longer addressed her by her first name. Changes (y/n) didn’t care about, rising to her feet in a frenzy, this was her chance. A way out.

(Y/n) didn’t worry about the chances of Tommy pushing her away, didn’t even think twice about the what if’s, the chances of him not wanting to meet her. She had been desperate to find a place where she could hide away from her husband, and if Small Heath – the city she had been supposed to move to years ago – was her calling, she’d follow it blindly.

Clothes were thrown into her old suitcase, not caring what she was packing, too focused on the racing of her heart, the blood thumping through her veins like alcohol. A blind happiness that drowned out the sound of her bedroom door being pushed open, exposing her stumbling husband.

“What the hell are you doing?” (Y/n) froze, eyes squeezed shut for a moment before she slowly turned towards him. He was drunk off his face, could barely balance himself, God’s timing seemed to be perfect, he’d pass out soon, giving her a chance to blend in with the dark morning. “I asked you a question, woman.”

“I,” (y/n) stumbled over her words, fisting the fabric of her thin dress as she was wrecking her brain for a lie to distract him with. “My mam’s sick, I need to visit her for a few days, you know how she is, I can’t leave her alone.”

He stared at her for a few moments, either too drunk to notice the tremble of her voice, or too distracted by the tiredness clinging to him. With a nod thrown her way, he found his way to their shared bed, no longer paying attention to her movements. Relief flushed through her, guiding her through the next moments, closing her suitcase, and with one last glance thrown at her husband, (y/n) pulled her ring off her finger, placing it down on the small reading table placed next to their door.

The morning was cold, a sensation her busy mind paid no worries to, wrapping her coat tighter around herself. Slowly her doubts began to resurface, doubts that distracted her from the dark path to the train station, hoping that she wouldn’t have to wait long for the next train she could take, leaving this very life behind.

Her eyes found the dark ones of the ticket seller, smiling at the grim looking man, “I need a ticket to Birmingham, please.”

…

As a teen (y/n) had imagined the very first time she’d make it to Birmingham, to Small Heath. Back then she had been filled with excitement, a giddy feeling that had left her insides churning, wondering how it may feel to hug Tommy, wondering about the places he’d show her. Naive dreams that had evaporated into a cloud of anxiety, a cloud she was now trapped in.

It had taken her hours to find her way to the streets of Small Heath, but even though the day had turned into evening, (y/n) felt no tiredness clinging to her fleshcage, no exhaustion she was slowed down by. No, by now her confidence had passed, turning into worries that ate her from inside out. Would he even want to speak to her? Would he accept her, or force her to turn away?

With every further step (y/n) took, clinging to the address she had found on the back of his letter, the worries began to grow. A part of her screamed at (y/n) to turn around and leave, to forget about this trip and to tell her husband that her mother didn’t need her help. But her curiosity forced her to keep on moving, till she came to halt in front of the house the address had guided her to.

Trembling fingers were balled into fists, knocking on the heavy door with a deep breath exhaled. There was no turning back, no way out of this mess. She counted the seconds fading by, wondering who’d open the door. (Y/n) knocked again after a few moments, taking a step back as the sinking realisation began to broaden in her system. Only as she turned away from the door, shoulders slumped, legs suddenly feeling heavier than before, the door was ripped open.

“What do you want?” A man had opened the door, presumably younger than she was, and yet his eyes carried something that made (y/n) wonder what cruelties he had been forced to see.

“I’m looking for Tommy Shelby.” (Y/n)’s words were quiet, nothing more than a whisper, and yet he seemed to pick up on them perfectly fine.

“Why? What do you want from him?” Her eyes flickered down to the letter she was holding, wondering how to explain to the man that Tommy Shelby was the lifeline she was clinging to, needing to be pulled from the soaring waves before she’d drown.

“I’m an old friend of his.” While (y/n) was looking for more words to speak, trying to find a way to beg the man to guide her to him, he kept studying her, gaze focusing on the letter she was holding. It took him a few moments to reply, taking in her tired features before he stepped out into the evening, taking her suitcase from (y/n) before she could speak up.

“He’s down at the Garrison, I’ll bring you to him, ‘m John.”

…

“I can’t do this.” (Y/n) froze as they arrived at the Garrison, eyes set ahead on the entrance. Should she really do this? Was this the right decision? She didn’t even know what Tommy looked like, hadn’t ever received a picture of the man she had once planned to marry.

“What’s wrong? Thought you’re an old friend of Tommy’s?” John alighted another cigarette, curious eyes not wandering from her features. On the way to the Garrison they had exchanged a few words, getting to know one another, even though he hadn’t asked any questions about her relationship with Tommy, not one question had been wasted on the man’s name.

“It’s a bit more complicated than that.” (Y/n)’s eyes found John’s, sending him a sad smile that was frozen on her lips as his hand found the back of her shoulder, giving her a slight push forward.

“Don’t you worry, ‘m sure he’ll be happy to see a pretty face like yours.” Before she could even try to inhale another breath, (y/n) was pushed into the pub, taking in the smell of alcohol and cigarettes that lingered in the air. Her heart was pounding, not able to pay attention to the greetings thrown John’s way, wondering if Tommy was any of these men. Would her heart recognise him before her mind would?

“Look at that, John, did you finally find a woman interested in you?” A man with a prominent moustache spoke up, arm finding its way around John’s shoulder, pulling the man against his chest. Too many curious eyes were focused on (y/n)’s frame, making her feel rather uncomfortable. But while she tried to find comfort in her coat, hiding away from their gazes, John shook his head, murmuring something about Tommy to them.

“A friend of Tommy’s, eh? Alright, come, let’s bring you to him.” The older man took her by her wrist, a gentle touch (y/n) couldn’t focus on, realising that she was truly about to meet the man she had once known better than her friends and family members. No words threatened to leave her, lips pressed together as the man guided her through the pub, coming to halt in front of two smoking men.

Piercing blue eyes found hers, and something inside of her clicked. She tensed, unable to inhale any air her aching lungs were desperate for. Time seemed to stand still, earth had stopped rotating, no longer guiding her through the passing by seconds.

“You’ve got a visitor, Tommy, says she’s an old friend of yours.” It truly was him. The man with piercing blue eyes that reflected no emotions, a stoic glance that could freeze hell. The other man sitting in front of Tommy rose from his seat, nodding at him before he blended in with the other men, making room for (y/n).

Silence engulfed the three of them, seconds Tommy used to take in her frame. Did he recognise her? She had changed over the years, looked nothing like the girl in the picture Tommy had apparently kept close, but if he felt the same pull she was currently feeling, he must know it’s her, guided by the heart that had been broken one too many times.

“Leave us alone, Arthur.” The man squeezed her wrist before he parted from them, sending Tommy one last curious glance. Tommy reached for a cigarette, alighting it before he pointed his hand towards the empty chair. Her trembling limbs forced her to sit down, unable to speak up with her dry mouth. “Flipped a coin, you know, wasn’t sure what it was trying to tell me, but I guess I finally have my answer.”

“I’m sorry.” The apology bled from her lips, eyes not daring to move from Tommy, taking in the handsome face she’d never be able to forget again. “I’m sorry for just turning up like that, but I needed to take my chance, even though I’m a few years too late.”

“Does your husband know you’re here, (y/n)?” She froze, wondering how he knew of the man she had left behind, even though she wasn’t even wearing her ring.

“He’s no longer my husband, at least I no longer want to call him that. You know, I thought you were dead, no further letters have found their way to me, my mother told me to move on, to marry before I get too old. But ever since your last letter I’ve felt everything but happiness.” Tears welled up in her eyes, she fumbled with her fingers, feeling pathetic and yet overly relieved to finally be in Tommy’s presence.

“Small Heath is no place of happiness, and it’s certainly not safe for a woman like you.” (Y/n)’s throat began to tighten up, unable to bite down the anger simmering inside of her, not understanding what he meant by his words.

“I’m safer here than I’ll ever be around my husband.” It took Tommy a few moments to reply, finally realising why she was fleeing from her home. He stubbed out his cigarette, rose from his seat and stretched his hand out for (y/n) to take. Shudders ran down her spine, feeling his skin pressing against hers for the first time, an unfamiliar sensation Tommy also seemed to be distracted by for just a fraction of a moment.

“Let’s get you home then.”

…

“Drink?” (Y/n) could only nod her head, taking in Tommy’s office, the books her fingers ached to touch, the paintings her eyes couldn’t stop admiring. She felt awfully at peace, finally calm enough to exhale the built up pressure.

“I have to admit, I didn’t imagine that being at your place for the first time would play out like this.” Her chuckles left him smiling, staring down into his drink before Tommy took a sip, leaning against his desk.

“How did you imagine it?” Her eyes found his, hand tightening its grip on her glass as she took a step closer towards him, just close enough that she could easily touch him, if the alcohol would give her the confidence to do so.

“I don’t know, I guess young (y/n) didn’t worry about anything but finally being with you. God, I was ready to leave everything behind for you, and if I’m honest, I think this is one of the few things that has never changed over the past years.” His hand found her side, pulling (y/n) against his chest before she could begin to understand what Tommy was doing. He was holding her close, chin placed on top of her head, arms slung around her middle. Both deeply exhaled as if all weight had finally been lifted off their shoulders, no longer carrying the pain the past years had unleashed upon them.

(Y/n) lifted her head off his chest, eyes finding Tommy’s, wordlessly communicating the love that has never subsided, forever etched into her racing heart. His eyes flickered down to her lips, making her awfully aware of their closeness, a thought drowned out by the feeling of his lips meeting hers for the first time. For a moment both froze, minds unable to realise that they were finally kissing.

He tasted of alcohol and cigarettes, a taste she’d forever remember, a taste she’d take to grave, cherishing every part of Tommy, even on her deathbed. He was the darkness she’d walk through, rising with the shadows he had once sent to hell, calling him home once his time was running out.

Her gasps urged Tommy on to add more pressure to his touch, hand finding her chin to keep (y/n) in place. The kiss was unexpectedly sweet and soft, not rushed by the endless years they’ve spent wondering about this very moment. (Y/n)’s hands found the hairs at the nape of his neck, tugging on his roots in a desperate need to deepen the kiss.

“You have to be sure about this.” Tommy murmured the words against her lips, eyes even more piercing than before, finally giving away the whirlwind of emotions he was stuck in. His fingertips danced along her sides, gently caressing her skin through the thin fabric of the dress she was wearing, sticking to her limbs since this very morning.

“I’m more sure about this than about anything else, are you?” Her whispers left him chuckling, forehead pressed against hers to release a deep breath.

“I’ve waited for this moment for years, of course I’m sure about this, about you.” Another kiss was shared between them before Tommy interlaced their fingers, pulling (y/n) towards his bedroom. The giddy feeling she hadn’t felt for years began to fill her, an emotion so familiar and yet so new, making her blood grow warmer, filling every inch of her body.

They came to halt in front of his bed, eyes not daring to break contact as he pushed the straps of her dress down her arms, falling to the ground to expose her naked chest. He took his time admiring her, eyes wandering up and down her frame, not able to break down the small smile widening on his lips. Impatient as one can be, (y/n) pulled him closer, hands working on the buttons of his vest, finding its way to the ground with his shirt soon following.

“I want to take my time with you, love you properly like I should have done years ago.” His raspy words left her trembling, only able to nod her head. Slowly she sat down on the mattress, crawling up the bed with Tommy following her every move, lips finding back together as he towered over her. He kissed his way down her throat, sucking on her skin, leaving marks he’d renew with every rising of the sun. Cold hands explored her chest, tugging on her hardening nipples, wanting to coax every sinful sound from her swollen lips.

“Don’t ever stop touching me, Tommy, promise me.” Her whispers filled the room, words caught in her throat as his mouth replaced his fingers. (Y/n) arched her chest further against him, high on the feeling, not once had she been touched like this before, not used to being treated like a woman that deserved to feel pleasure.

“I promise, even if it may be the only promise I’ll ever keep.” Tommy’s mouth moved further down her body, hands tugging on her panties, exposing every inch of her body to his wandering eyes. He cupped her heat, felt her arousal dripping from her tightness, body begging for his touch, needing to feel his hands on every part of her. Her moans rumbled through her, guided by her pleasure, the unfamiliar desire she had to adjust to.

His mouth found her bundle of nerves, a touch that left her gasping in surprise. Not once had her husband wasted his time on pleasuring her, not once had he used his mouth on her, a sensation so intimate, (y/n) was grateful that she got to share her first time experiencing it with Tommy. His eyes found hers every now and then, as if he was checking in to see how she was feeling, if she was enjoying the way he was touching her. And great heavens, she was.

“Feels so good, fuck, never been touched like this.” Her confession left Tommy smirking in pride, grateful that he was the one to push her into the soaring waves of her orgasm. Two of his fingers teased her entrance, giving her a moment to stop him should she feel uncomfortable, but (y/n) didn’t dare speak up, too caught in the web of pleasure he had spun. He fucked her slow at first, fingers moving in a steady pace, before he began to build up the pressure, curling them against her swollen spot.

Her moans grew louder, walls clenching around him, not able to stop herself from giving in, calling out his name as her first orgasm of the night flushed through her system. Tommy gave her a few moments to cling to the feeling before he pulled away from her, watching her panting frame while he undressed, exposing his naked body to hers. He was gorgeous, a perfect man made for her only, a man she’d never willingly part from again.

Tommy interlaced his fingers with (y/n)’s, staring down on her as he pushed into her, a movement that coaxed a heavy moan out of the both lovers, needing to adjust before he could start fucking her. It felt like their bodies were made for one another, one with the love they’ve shared for a decade, the love so intense it had never managed to fully let go of them.

(Y/n) searched his lips, drowning out the sounds that left her, swallowed by the kiss that left both panting. Her eyes fluttered close and for a moment (y/n) felt like her teen self, remembering all those nights she had spent wondering how being with Tommy would feel like, how he’d touch and love her, but nothing would ever manage to describe what she was truly feeling in this very moment.

A moment filled with love and adoration, a moment so perfect no human mind would ever fully grasp it.

His fingers found their way back to her pulsing bundle, pushing her further into the darkness he had her trapped in, wanting to see the pleasure tugging on her features once again. (Y/n) choked on his name, eyes squeezed shut as her second orgasm rocked through her, robbing her of any strength lingering in her system.

Tommy kept moving, chasing his own high as his eyes watched his cock disappear inside her tightness, coated in her arousal. The sight left his cock twitching, about to release himself on her walls. He managed to pull out just before his orgasm would rock through him, jerking himself for a few moments before he painted her thighs white, letting go with a deep moan.

Both were panting, bodies searching one another, not fully realising that the past moments have truly just happened. They still had their fingers interlaced, not daring to let go just yet, not even as Tommy reached for a tissue to clean her skin, not even as he alighted a cigarette to fill the quiet bedroom with blue smoke.

“There were times where I thought I may have found love again, and yet it had never been the same love you’ve managed to make me feel with your letters. I’m not a good man, (y/n), I’ve done things worse than you’ll ever be able to imagine, but I’m selfish, I won’t let you leave again, not when I finally have you to myself.” She rose from her position, body fully turned towards Tommy, and with her lips kissing his once again, (y/n) murmured a soft “I won’t leave you, not now, not ever”.

#Tommy Shelby smut #Tommy Shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine

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artiststarme · 1 year

Text

Ex-fucking-cuse you

Thank you to @carlyv for the title idea! I don’t know if I really like whatever this is but other people seem to so I’ll leave it be. Let me know what you guys are thinking in the comments!

~*~*~*~

Whenever he had shared his feelings in the past, he’d had them stomped on. From crushes to life goals, anyone he’d ever confided in had laughed in his face. The first memorable time had been when he told Tommy about his crush on Heath Sellers at recess in fourth grade. Tommy H. told him that he wouldn’t be friends with a fag and if he ever mentioned liking a dude again, he’d kick his ass. That circumstance really showed Steve that he couldn’t trust anyone. If he couldn’t share what he was thinking with his best friend, who else could he tell?

The second time was with Nancy Wheeler. Steve told her he loved her even though he knew it was too early into their relationship and he knew she was still grieving Barb. But he still told her and all she did for the first few times was call him an idiot afterwards. Steve loved too much and too hard. Sure, after a few weeks she said it back but Steve could tell it wasn’t genuine and was most likely said out of pity.

The fact that she called him bullshit just two weeks later kind of cemented that fact in his mind.

It made him feel sort of hypocritical. He told the kids to be open and honest, prided them on their communication. And then he neglected to do the same. He hid his nightmares and semi-suicidal thoughts behind an impenetrable wall that no one in the Party could breach.

Until Eddie.

For months, Steve hated Eddie because it felt like he was stealing the kids away from him. He was jealous that they shared a common interest that he couldn’t understand and was gearing up for the kids to leave him behind. But then, Eddie told him that the kids worshiped him and he’d been jealous too. Jealous of the cool babysitter that influenced their actions in DnD and could do no wrong.

Steve felt like Eddie could truly see him, could understand Steve, and liked what he saw. He could tell that Eddie was going to be a great friend of his, or more. He liked more.

But when he ran back to the trailer park after flambéing Vecna, he saw a blood soaked Eddie being cradled by Dustin. His slow paced jog turned into a full blown sprint. Steve yanked Eddie out of Dustin’s arms and made a mad dash towards the portal in his trailer. He wasn’t going to lose the one guy that made him feel more understood than anyone else had ever made him feel.

The girls and Dustin tearfully followed them but Steve couldn’t spare them any attention. He was solely focused on the sluggish bleeding of Eddie’s wounds.

“Ow, Harrington. Calm the fuck down.”

“Eddie?!” The metalhead’s eyes were blurry but somewhat focused on Steve’s face. “Hey man, you have to stay awake. When we get out of here, you can teach me all about your shitty yelling music and nerd game, okay?”

The blurriness lifted slightly as pure offense filled his face, “ex-fucking-cuse you. That “shitty yelling” is true music unlike your Tears for Fears garbage or whatever the hell else you listen to. I have taste. And yeah, Harrington. I will be teaching you Dungeons & Dragons when we get out of here. Lugging my body out of here when I was trying to make a noble sacrifice is disgraceful.”

“You’re not allowed to die, Eddie.” Steve said, panting with exertion and stress.

“That’s not up to you,” and then he passed out.

“Fuck!” Steve screamed. That fucking dramatic shit, if those were his last words, Steve would bring him back just to kill him again.

Steve’s feelings were threatening to overcome him as his hands shook while he put Eddie into the car. Nancy held one of them and gave him a look of meaning. “I’ll drive.”

“Um, yeah, yeah. Okay, thanks. Henderson! Keep pressure on his wounds. We need to stop the bleeding.” He desperately put pressure on the worst of the wounds on his torso and prayed to a god he no longer believed in.

And then they sped towards the hospital.

Steve was there when Eddie woke up, just as he had been in the four days he’d been unconscious while recovering from shock. He was trying to read the dancing letters in The Hobbit but when he looked up and met Eddie’s eyes, the book dropped from his hands.

“Didn’t take you for a fantasy nerd, Harrington.” Eddie mumbled, his voice hoarse but unwavering.

“We need to talk about your theatrics, man. You almost gave me a heart attack, Eddie.”

“Oh, we’re on a first-name basis now? If I’d known all I had to do was risk my life to be in King Steve’s court, I would’ve done it a long time ago.” Eddie smirked at him.

“I’m not a king anymore.” Steve said and shook his head. It’d been a long time since anyone had called him that and he didn’t like the way it sounded on Eddie’s lips either.

“My apologies, Steve. You’re not a king, you’re a paladin. And that’s better than any noble.” Eddie said wisely.

Steve had no idea what the fuck any of that meant or what a pal-man was but he could listen to Eddie rant at him for hours as long as he kept looking at him like that. His face was fond and his lips, though scarred with a vicious bite marring their softness, smiled softly at Steve.

He coughed a bit to clear his throat and tore his eyes from Eddie’s lips to his amused eyes. “Um, do you said you were going to explain your screamy metal shit?”

That got Steve his desired reaction and Eddie squawked. “You motherfucker-”

As Steve listened to his enraged ranting, he made himself a promise. He was going to be more like Eddie. He was going to be more free with his feelings and he would find a way to talk to his friends about them. But for now, he’d listen to Eddie’s virtriolic soliloquy about the merits of metal artists and the importance on nonconformist music in “this sweaty armpit of a state”. And Steve couldn’t be happier.

@doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog @newtstabber @carlyv

#not as angsty as I anticipated #no tissues needed for once!#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fanfic

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generalkenobee · 7 months

Text

Ted Theodore Logan Headcannons

This story contains NSFW headcannons and SFW headcannons

• The first time he sees you literal heart eyes-

•I mean you guys don't even have to be dating for him to not talk to other girls

•he thinks that it's disrespectful to even look at other girls now that you've officially introduced yourself to him

•talks about you all the time, to Bill, his dad, even Deacon

• literally looks at you like you're a fallen angel

• attached at. The. Hip. He never leaves you alone

•he'll walk you to every single one of your classes

•shares everything with you! He brought some gum to school? he brought 3 pieces (you, him, and Bill)

•he let's you pick his outfits when you ask

•compliments!!!

•you guys share clothes. Not in the way where he gives you his coats. I mean he'll take your socks 😭

•genuinely loves listening to you talk, he'll sit there for hours just staring while you talk about how practice is going or rehearsal, or just your day? He's all for it and ready to hear about it

•matching outfits...

•so many photos of you in his room...all over his bookshelf, his desk, even in his drawers

•he truly thinks you're the most beautiful woman he's ever seen

•I think he's low-key self conscious about not being very smart or good at sports, he thinks you can do better

•kisses no matter what, you haven't brushed your teeth yet? No problem, chapped lips? Ted literally could not care less, you could spit in his mouth and he'd be happy

•takes any kind of affection he can get

•I just know he gives the best hugs ever

•Tells Bill ALL about you

•doesn't pay attention in any classes except for health because he wants to learn about menstruation because you're always complaining about your 'period' so he wanted to know what it was (he got a c+ in heath and you were insanely proud of him)

•your parents don't like him because he's 'stupid' and you could 'do better', so he sneaks into your room almost every night

•has cried to you about his dad and how pressured he feels before

-NSFW-

•ok so I know not a lot of people will argue but like, hasn't even thought about actually having sex till you guys get together

•so so so thankful when you give him any sort of pleasure

•honestly submissive

•will finger you for hours on end

•doesn't like public sex, he doesn't want to do anything that could result in you being uncomfortable or exposed because he wants to be the only person to see you like that

•loves when you pull his hair

•giving you pleasure gives him pleasure

•came in his pants one time while eating you out

•the first sexual experience you had together was in his bed with you jerking him off and he finished in under a minute

•eye contact!!!!

•the first time you ever came around his cock he went absolutely fucking farel

If you have any ideas about Ted please share because I have lots more to say!!💕

#x reader #ted logan x reader #ted logan x y/n #ted theodore logan #bill and teds excellent adventure #bill and teds bogus journey #ted logan #ted theodore logan smut #ted theodore logan x reader #keanu my beloved #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves smut #keanu reeves #i love keanu #generalkenobee

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nightmare-dreamt · 11 months

Note

Hello!! May I request a monster high x Fem!reader, who's a new student. She ran into some students, and she looks like a human, so everyone thought she was a normie, but she turns out to be a monster with powers. She can turn into a human form or a monster form, so shes still the same person, but she can change her looks, she can change her looks to a human or her monster form.

But she's also

🥀DROP

💋DEAD

❤️‍🔥GORGEOUS

When everyone though she was a normie some actually though she was the best looking normie they've seen before, but obviously chosenot to say and wouldn't admit it. But when they found out she was a monster, (half monster half normie) when she turns into her monster form she's even more beautiful🥹💕

Everyone's jaw would probably drop🤭

Monster high x beautiful half normie and half monster Fem!reader.

Can it be a oneshot please?🥺 If you want it to be a headcannon or something, that's also fine, but can you also include the characters such as the Frankie and the ghouls, and the guys too, like heath, Holt and etc in the oneshot/headcanon.

Sorry this looks long, it's probably cause of how much I wrote-

Anyways thanks and have a good day/night!!

Monster High Request:

Frankie:

Human Form: When the two of you first met, it was when you and your human friends were trying to save their monster friend Holt. The two of you got along really well and shared similar ideas when it came to saving their friend.

When her eyes landed on your form, her heart stopped unlike the way it usually does and now butterflies were in her stomach making her feet heavier than before. You were like a god/goddess in her eyes and she didn't know what to do. When you felt eyes on your back, you turned meeting her gaze which led to her blushing profusely and popping her hand off to cover her face.

Monster Form: You tried your hardest to hide your monster form, afraid of what everyone might have thought but it was bound to be revealed sooner or later. You slipped up one day when transforming late at night and assuming everyone was sleeping, but a photo was taken and soon spreaded around about your true identity.

When she saw the picture a clear confusion was on their face, but then admiration and adoration took over and their heart began beating faster. Frankle thinks both of your forms are super cool and they're fine with you being in either one. They make sure to help figure out who took your picture and spreaded it, refusing to stand this hatred against you and your monster identity.

Draculaura:

Human Form: You met the vampire from Frankie who introduced you to their friends wanting all of you to get along and become great friends as well. At first, you were afraid, never having met a vampire before, but when you got to know the pink vampire your fear faded away. You got along with her well and always had sleepovers together, laughing and enjoying your time with each other.

It was hard for her since she thought her feelings were for Clawd, but when the two of you began hanging out more and more new found feelings began to form. She's gone through the pros and cons of dating both of you, but everything seemed evened out besides the fact that you're a human…

Monster form: She saw the photo and didn't believe it, unsure if the photo was even real, totally believing that you were full human without a single scent of monster in you. Her skin grew darker with a blush when seeing your gorgeous looks on your monster form as well making her choice now even more difficult.

Clawdeen:

Human Form: When the two of you met, it was strange. The two of you didn't talk much besides when one of the others were around and helped start the conversations. The two of you were basically mutals that had the same friends.

You weren't that close with her until the group went to Paris and she had you model one of her outfits. In the moment, when she saw your form in one of her outsides shining in the moonlight, her mind went blank with only you in her thoughts. She couldn't help but think how good you looked with the moon shining onto your skin and the outfit that fit your body perfectly, hitting everything correctly just like how she had planned.

Monster Form: When her eyes landed on the picture, the same thing from Paris occurred with your mind going blank and only you in her thoughts. She then felt anger knowing someone took your picture without your permission and revealed your secret that was clearly hidden for a reason. She was quick to come and comfort you making sure that everything was alright. (She won't admit it, but she also went to see your monster form in person and you looked even more exquisite in person)

Clawd:

Human Form: You met the werewolf from his sister and his crush, which wasn't a great idea because now he was facing one of the greatest choices of his life. For the past month, he's been seeing Draculaura, but when you showed up his heart and mind haven't been the same and he liked it. His feelings for the vampire were still there but he now also had feelings for you as well.

Monster Form: You had shown him and when you did his eyes widened instantly seeing your glowing complexion and soon the air felt like it was taken out of him. You made him nervous and he didn't know what to do, making things even worse for his relationship as you also started getting closer with the vampire. He knew deep down that he had to do the right thing, but something else held him down.

Holt:

Human Form: You met him when trying to save his counterpart from the other humans who thought all monsters were bad, which wasn't true at all. You were shocked when seeing him going through the same thing you were. When attending monster high, the first thing you did was look for him and show him your form wanting to show him that having two sides wasn't always bad.

Monster Form: When he saw that you were just like him, his heart fluttered knowing he wasn't alone in this world of being human and monster. You became great friends with him spending most of your time at monster high with him talking about the strange things the two of you have done with your abilities. When news about your transromation became known, he stood up for you making sure no one treated you the way they treated him for being human and monster.

A/n - Sorry I couldn't do all of the characters. this was already over two pages and would have been more. If you want I can do a part 2 with more characters :)

#x reader #headcanon #request #monster high x reader #monster high characters #MH X reader #frankie stein #mh g1 #cleo de nile #clawdeen wolf #draculaura

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thunderstomm · 5 months

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▪︎ AT THE MONSTER BALL ♡ MONSTER HIGH FANART

WHOO!! I'm so excited for the s1 Finale of Nickelodeon's Monster High !! So to celebrate, I decided to draw my FAVOURITE Monster High couple, Heath & Abbey at the Monster Ball. I'm so glad they're going together!! I'm so incredibly excited for this, and cannot wait to see how these episodes unfold. I LOVE Monster High so much, and all of G3's show has just been so wonderful, thanks to Shea Fontana and the amazing Monster High team. Here's to an awesome season finale, and an exciting future with s2 !! ♡

What's your favourite episode ?? ♡♡

Bonus version with text under the cut ♡♡

CHARACTER/S: Heath Burns & Abbey Bominable (Nickelodeon's Monster High - G3)

Time Taken: 1 Day

Program: Autodesk Sketchbook

Likes, Comments and Shares are appreciated!

DO NOT TRACE OR REPOST MY ART!!

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calummss · 3 months

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masterlist

requested by the lovely @zablife . thank you for being so patient i feel awful but i hope you enjoy

prompt this was always how it was going to end

‘What is wrong with you?’

‘What’s wrong with me? What the bloody hell is wrong with you?’

‘With me?’ You stopped strutting, stepping towards his face. ‘Me? Are you fucking insane?’

John reached out for your arm, his tight grip making it impossible to walk off, leaving you in his embrace that no longer gave you the same warmth it used to. It was cold and wet, cold and dark. All you wanted was to go home, eat the food your nan had made you and sip a cup of tea by the fireplace as she talked about her golden age. John had apprehended you as you sat inside of the Garrison, patiently waiting for Pete to show up but as the clicking of the clock continued to burn into your head, you had given up and pitifully ordered four shots, all burning the back of your throat and you wiped your lips with saddened eyes.

‘Don’t touch me,’ you tried to pull back, your heels almost making you trip every time you tried to get away from him but he was also the one that saved you from the dirty streets of Small Heath. John had loosened his grip, enough to get rid of the burning sensation on the skin of your arm. His eyes were dark, no joy, no tears, no pain; just soulless.

‘You are mine.’ He growled at you not caring for the people that eyes the scene in front of them.

‘You don’t own me!’

‘You’re mine. Stop going on these stupid dates. Do they know you’re married? That they’re committing adulterous acts against me?’

‘We divorced, John!’

‘There’s no such thing as a divorce, sweetheart,’ he inched his face closer to yours, his hot breath clashing against the cold air. ‘Til death do us part.’

Your eyebrows softened with the released tension of your forehead. Who was he? What happened to John?

‘Pete won’t come.’

‘Why?’ You asked. Each second letting his words settle, his grip on your arm slowly fading as you tilted your head to look at him. Legs barely supporting your weight. ‘What the fuck did you do John? What did you do? Where is he?’

‘Receiving the punishment any man should.’

‘What the fuck did you do?’

‘I shot him in the head and watched all of his blood spill next to him as I watched life leave his eyes, his breathing stop, as he looked at me and realised that the last thing he would see was me.’

You stared at John processing what he said. Going over every word he had just uttered, not realising that your shaking hand had made its way to your lips, anxiously pulling the skin. And then it dawned on you… ‘Freddie, Roy, Kennedy, Albert…they never showed up, they…never returned any of my calls…John, what did you do?…Oh no no no,’ your tears silently fell.

‘Do you think I share what is mine?’

Sobs

‘If you think it was ever going to end any other way you are a stupid girl. This is how it was always going to end. You can run as far away as you want. Date who you want. Kiss who you want. But I will always find you. And I will take back what is mine. Always’

#john shelby #john shelby imagines #john shelby imagine #john shelby blurbs #john shelby blurb #john shelby headcanons #john shelby headcanon #john shelby fluff #john shelby smut #john shelby angst #john shelby x y/n #john shelby x you #john shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #john shelby fanfic

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thehardy-boys · 7 months

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The Platform Part 6 (Tommy Shelby x Reader)

Hey there! Thank you all again for your incredible kindness and encouragement! I'm so glad you are enjoying following this little story! I've tried to tag everyone who asked but if I've missed somebody please just let me know! Thank you all again for taking the time to read this!

Warnings: Finally some smut but literally not heavy...like hot kissing basically, vague talk of mental health problems

Part 6

Accompanied by Thomas’s pronouncement came Evelyn’s constant nagging. It got to the point where (y/n) finally snapped, “I don’t know! Please Evelyn, leave me alone so I can work.”

She huffed and sullenly returned to her desk and now (y/n) had to deal with the sour stares Evelyn gave her anytime they crossed paths.

It was true that (y/n) had no idea where she stood with the holiday party. She hated the idea of being surrounded by strangers, even worse upper class London strangers. This wasn’t really her area; never mind the fact she had nothing to wear to such an event. So, (y/n) never decided. She told herself she would think about it but when Saturday night came, and she found herself without realizing it hunting through her small closet and carefully placing her makeup it looked as if she had made her mind up a long time ago.

She took the evening train alone, her shawl wrapped around her shoulders for warmth. (y/n) had brought a small book to read on the train, one that fit into her handbag. But she found herself much preferring to watch the window. The frantic blurring of the darkening landscapes. (y/n) had moved from London to Small Heath a few years ago now. She had always wanted to go back but never found the excuse. She was somewhat worried that if she ever visited, she might never come back.

The fancy hotel that the party was being held in wasn’t that far a walk from the train station. The streets were crowded with the London night life. (y/n) fit right in with her shimmering dress. With each step closer her pulse thrummed louder in her ears. Her palms started to sweat. She would stay an hour, just an hour. The butler graciously took her shawl when she entered the decorative building and she steeled herself before she walked past him into the lion’s den.

(y/n) had never seen anything like it before. The entire room was made out to be a winter wonder land. Hanging baubles, mistletoe, pine trees lining the room, fake snow resting on surfaces, and twinkling fairy lights hanging on the walls. It was overwhelming. This was how the other half lived. She wasn’t standing alone for long before Evelyn swooped out from a mass of people to grab her arm and drag her into the swarming herds.

(y/n) found herself joining a group of chattering people and then Evelyn was nudging her pointedly. (y/n) looked around and found Thomas, already watching her, whiskey glass in hand, and cigarette already fuming. He licked his lips slowly, they glistened and (y/n)’s eyes were drawn to them like moth to flame. One could describe Thomas’s look as hungry bordering on ravenous. It tickled something inside of her, knowing that it was her that was teasing this out of him.

“Mr. Shelby,” She started, and his eyes raked over her face, body, “Ms. Lowe wanted to pick your brains about horses. She’s very interested in the races.” And with the conversation starter done she slipped away, over to the bar. She wasn’t exactly playing hard to get but something similar. The moment they shared in the field was prominent in her mind. The heat of his body. There was something unspoken between them, a tether, a rope, some kind of connection.

She ordered herself a whisky and rested against the bar. It wasn’t long before a gentleman made himself known to her. This dress was doing her wonders. He was kind and respectful. He worked for a paper importer. He was rich. His hair was brown but not the same brown as another man she knew. His eyes were brown, as well. And when she looked up into them occasionally during their chat she was always hit with a wave of disappointment. They weren’t the ocean she had grown use to. She wouldn’t have been able to find them on the platform. But she brushed it off. He was kind she reminded herself. That was already asking too much these days.

She felt his hand first, on her lower back before she caught the familiar scent of oak and smoke. Then his voice, “Do you mind if a borrow, Ms. (l/n)?”

The man in front of her, like a deer in the headlights shook his head and gave his best effort at a nonchalant smile. But he was afraid. If the devil of Small Heath asks something of you, you give him it and thank him for not taking your soul.

Thomas guided her through the crowds, the room heavy with people’s laughter and words. He opened the back door, leading them onto the balcony. (y/n) took a deep inhale of the fresh air. She hadn’t realized how starved she was indoors.

She went over to lean her forearms against the cold stone banister that overlooked lavish botanical gardens. Thomas came up to stand next to her and when she looked over, he already had a cigarette hanging between his lips. Carelessly.

“Did you need something, Mr. Shelby?”

He shook his head, “I though’ you looked bored.”

Now she shook her head, “I wasn’t. He was a nice man.” And she could see in her peripheral how he turned to look at her head on. She returned his stance, one hip leaning on the stone now.

He ran a hand roughly through his hair, disturbing the carefully styled sweep of it. He inhaled, exhaled the tar, and then threw the rest over the balcony to land in the swirling darkness below them.

“A nice man, eh?”

She nodded. He took a step forwards.

“What does that make me?”

She swallowed, eyes flickering over his form, “What does it matter what I think of you? You can be any kind of man you want.”

He clenched his jaw. And then he was suddenly all over her. Crowding her in, crowding her out. His chest meeting her own. The rough exterior of his jacket rubbing up against her. His legs on either side of her own, caging her in. His arms swallowing her torso, pulling her into him. His face inches away. He was the only thing she knew. The only thing she could feel. She gasped at his movements. Her arms coming up to his shoulders without anything else better to do. She saw his pupils blown wide, like two voids. They sucked her in. No hope of escaping. No hope.

“What kind of man do you want?” He asked her, his Birmingham accent heavy over his words. She could feel his breath ghosting over her lips.

“You want a nice man?” And he complimented his words by a gentle stroke up and down her back. The goosebumps breaking out over her skin at his movements.

“Or do you want a man who will make you feel something?” And with this he pulled her flush against him. So close she could feel his excitement for her. The heat of it. And she responded in kind, she pulsed for him. Eyes fluttering. Desire pooling heavily in her belly. It made her want to roll over and open for him. He watched her reaction, her eyes, then down to her partially opened mouth, and then down her neck to her chest. She knew her nipples were hard, and he licked his lips seeing their inviting shape through the softness of her dress.

Then he kissed her. It was different than the platform. The platform was about comfort, reassurance, something secret and unspoken. There was nothing unspoken about this. His lips enveloped her bottom one, sucking, tugging a little. Before she knew it, she had opened for him with a whimper, her hands tightening around his shoulders. His tongue swept in, warm and hot. He pushed himself further against her if that was possible. She responded by trying, in vain to move her hips a little, get some kind of friction but she was trapped between the stone and his own weight. She had to take whatever he was willing to give. And tonight, him seemed generous.

His mouth moved to her neck. Breathy kisses, biting that caused her to let out small moans before he soothed her with his tongue. He nibbled behind her ear and found a spot that drove her out of her mind.

“Mr. Shelby...” She whispered. Her hands trailing up the shaved sides of his head to anchor in his dark, dark hair.

He went further, followed her collarbone, and gently pushed the small straps of her dress down each shoulder and all at once she was exposed to both him and the cold night air. But she wasn’t cold for long. His mouth latching on to her right nipple. Licking and tasting. He molded his hand over the other. Then switched. He tweaked her other nipple, stroked it. She was out of her mind. Her body was pulsing with desire. It was raw and he was real.

“Please…” She clutched his hair, tugging.

“Please what?” He moved back up, chest, collarbone, neck, cheek, and lips. He stole her breath again with another kiss. Slotting their lips together, licking in, tasting her, savoring her.

Thomas drew back to take her in. She must look like a wreck. Lipstick smudged, cheeks flushed, and hair loosened. Not to mention her dress half way down her body. (y/n) watched him in turn. His lips were swollen and carried the hint of her own lipstick. His hair was a mess due to her pulling. But he was beautiful, still.

“Please what?” He asked again, his voice rough. His hands caressing her waist. He then carefully took each of her dress straps and dragged them back up to her shoulders, shielding her once again from the night air.

She opened her mouth to respond but the door behind them opened, “Mr. Shelby? Mrs. Chestisen would like to see you.”

Thomas made sure to adjust his body to hide her from the newcomer. He just turned his head to respond, “Alright. I’ll be there in a minute.”

He stepped back from her as the balcony door closed and the butler returned to deliver the message. Her lower back protested as she pushed away from the hard stone. (y/n) brushed down her dress and fixed her straps. She wasn’t entirely sure where she stood with Thomas. She wasn’t sure how she let it happen but what she did know is that she wanted more. More of that mouth. The hands and the warmth.

He offered her his hand, “Come with me.”

Mrs. Chestisen was the rich wife of a politician. She was curious about expanding her investments into the Shelby Limited or that’s what (y/n) gathered while sipping her drink and listening to Thomas and the lady chat. They had met in a back room, still decorated with the winter theme and still incredibly ornate with a personal bar. (y/n) wasn’t entirely sure why Thomas had bothered to invite her to the meeting. Thomas had led her through and offered her a drink. Mrs. Chestisen didn’t even bat an eyelash at her presence, in fact she hadn’t even acknowledged her before jumping into her business. She was an uptight lady, crisp white dress, shiny, pointed shoes, a dramatic Christmas brooch. Her hair looked like it had been glued in place. (y/n) didn’t like her.

“Ms. (l/n), wasn’t it?” (y/n) looked over from her position in front of a large panting on the other side of the room. Mrs. Chestisen had spoken to her. (y/n) walked over to the two of them. Thomas was leaning against the bar and the lady was sitting on one of the bar stools. Her back ram rod straight.

“Yes?” (y/n) stopped in front of her.

“Your brother, Matthew (l/n)?”

(y/n)’s blood ran cold. Matthew.

Thomas’s head looked over at her, taking in her sudden change of character.

“Yes?” Her voice soft.

Mrs. Chestisen smirked, “He served with my son. I heard what happened. I wanted to express my condolences.”

“Thank – ”

“Not that you need them.”

(y/n) blinked, “I’m sorry?”

“Yes, you should be.” Mrs. Chestisen snapped back.

Thomas looked between the two of them, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“What are you talking about?” (y/n) responded hoarsely. She was caught off guard. Who was this woman?

The lady slipped off her chair and walked towards her, “I’m talking about what you did to him, Matthew.”

“What I did to him?”

“That you killed him.” She hissed out, “When my son found out he was beside himself. I had to send him to a sanatorium for months, months. It tore my family apart!”

(y/n) stood stock still. Her blood turning to stone. Her heart thumping in her ears. A fire burning deep within her suddenly alighted.

Matthew. Poor Matthew. He came back from the war, but he was…different. Absent. Twisted. Gaunt. Haunted. He moved back to Small Heath to be with their mother. He needed family. He needed warmth but he was unraveling. Unraveling and when (y/n) moved back to take care of him he overwhelmed her. He fell apart in her hands as she desperately tried to put him back together again.

“Killed him!? I looked after him. I took care of him. I tried to help him but he, he couldn’t be saved. He couldn’t – I couldn’t help him. I didn’t know how.” Her breath came short, her fists clenched in anger.

Mrs. Chestisen scoffed, “It’s clear you couldn’t help him.”

(y/n) stood there in utter shock, in complete anger, “I don’t have to stand her and take this. I don’t have to stay here and listen to you judge me, re-write the past. I don’t know you. I don’t owe you an explanation.” (y/n) left and she didn’t spare a glance at Thomas because she had a feeling. A terrible, terrible feeling.

She pushed through the crowds, the throngs, she ignored the heavy tones of Christmas carols and the sharp scent of nutmeg and cinnamon. She dodged Evelyn’s outstretched hands, and she broke out into the lobby. The butler placed her shawl around her shoulders and bid her a goodnight, but she couldn’t stop. The freezing winter night slapped her in the face, and she took a deep breath to steady her trembling hands. She was so angry. That lady had no right to speak to her like that. To say his name, to accuse her. (y/n) felt rubbed raw, split open.

She walked further up the street debating the options of catching a late train or just ordering a car but then she heard him call for her.

“(y/n)!” He came down the front steps of the lavish building and walked briskly over to her. His arms reaching out to her, and they just brushed her waist before she walked backwards to maintain their distance.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” (y/n) hissed at him, clutching her shawl tighter around her. Their moment on the balcony seemed miles away now. The desire she had felt for him, that had pulled her forward into his arms was iced over. She felt humiliated.

“Don’t touch me.” She repeated softer and he held up both his hands as a sign of acceptance, but he didn’t look happy about it.

“Just let me explain—”

“No, No, I don’t think I need an explanation. You knew she knew me. You knew that she knew my brother, didn’t you. You used me. All this time, then? All this fucking time? I’m sick of people taking my life apart. I’m tired of people telling me what happened. I know what happened!” Her voice broke and she trembled under the dark gaze of the winter air. Thomas made a move to walk forward but she shook her head. His face was unreadable, indifferent and it angered her.

“You’re a terrible man. To use my brother against me. I didn’t kill him.” She whispered out feebly into the street, “I didn’t kill him.”

Thomas stood there; his mouth slightly parted at her tirade. His breath came out and clouded around him.

“I regret it.” (y/n) broke the building silence between them, “I regret that moment on the platform. I regret tonight.”

She turned and walked back up the dark road to the train station. She caught the last train to Small Heath. She sat and looked out the window, but it was so dark out there that she could only see her own reflection. She had been right all along, silly girl, stupid girl.

Part 5 --- Part 7

Tags: @black-kitten-imagines, @illuminwtesz, @slutforcoffein, @madeinuk, @in0320, @globetrotter28, @txmxav, @christina-who,

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shelby-fangirl00 · 1 year

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I have a request that the reader is pregnant and is trying to hide it from Tommy, but he finds out anyway

(I take no credit for photos above!)

Helloooo:) Thank you for the requests! I hope this is close to something you wanted!!

Warnings : Adult language, pregnancy

Word Count: 1085

By Mistake

You stared at yourself in the long mirror of Tommy’s bathroom at the Arrow House. Standing in your thin nightgown, you turned to your side to look at your fairly new and small protruding stomach. It was something you were able to hide for the past few months, but it was getting harder and harder to hide every week.

You had started working as an assistant to Polly Gray around a year ago when she was looking for help in Small Heath. Working closely with Polly meant being around the Shelby family often too, including Tommy.

Tommy immediately grew fond of you and you of him. To be honest with yourself, you had been falling in love with him. But you were terrified he didn’t love you back, that Tommy thought this was something superficial, more about sex than love for him, maybe, but you couldn’t be sure. You were too scared to ever bring it up to him. But when Polly started to notice signs of pregnancy and your late cycle, you knew what it meant. Eventually, you would have to face these feelings you had grown.

You wanted to tell Tommy so badly, but you were terrified of his reaction. Scared he wouldn’t want to share a child with you. Scared that he wouldn’t want a family with some small town girl that had no family or any money of any kind. You were hiding it as long as you could, but you wouldn’t be able to for much longer.

As you stood in the bathroom, you heard the bedroom door open and quickly threw on your long silk robe to cover yourself before you greeted him.

‘Mornin love,’ he sighed out to you as you entered the room with him. He was standing there, fully dressed in a fitting black suit. He took off his heavy coat, throwing it on a chair and approaching you. You inhaled sharply as he came closer, knowing you weren’t in clothing that would easily hide your new bump.

‘Back so soon?’ you asked him, not expecting him to be home from work so early.

You had spent the night with Tommy last night, which happened often nowadays.

‘I suppose I missed you too much is all. Is that alright with you?’ He said quizzically. Were you being too obvious?

‘Just fine with me, Mr. Shelby.’ You said with a wink as he began to lay small kisses on your neck, sending goosebumps across your body. You wanted him so bad…maybe he wouldn’t notice, you thought as he started to wrap his hands around your waist.

You crossed your arms around his neck and closed your eyes, enjoying he feeling of is full lips on your skin. Just then, his hands went to push the thin robe off of your shoulders, falling down onto the hardwood floor. You gasped lightly as the cold air hit the newly exposed skin. His hands slowly ran down your arms and down your stomach. Just when he did so, he froze, lifting his head from my neck and looking down at my stomach that was obviously protruding through my thin nightgown.

You froze too, allowing him to continue to study this new part of your body. There was definitely no point in hiding it now. His eyes didn’t leave your stomach. They were wide and his mouth hung slightly hung open. He seemed in awe of his new discovery.

‘Tommy…Tommy, look at me please…’

Just then, his eyes snapped back into reality and stared deep into your own.

‘Is this what I think it is?’ He whispered softly while his hands were still frozen over your stomach. He looked completely unguarded and the walls that he always had up collapsed around you both. You could see the extreme surprise and curiosity in his eyes. You also saw his mind racing. You were so scared he would be upset.

‘Polly and I figured it out a couple months ago. Yes Tommy, I’m pregnant.’ I mumbled out, trying to hold back tears in your eyes.

‘Please don’t be upset Thomas, I just…I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t plan for this to happen to us. I…I know I’m not an ideal woman for you to have children with. I don’t have money or any family really. This child will only know your family, Thomas.’

His eyebrows furrowed as his eyes fell back to your stomach. He started to rub it lightly, almost admiring you.

Tears fell down your face, you turned your head away, wiping them off. You were so scared of what the future held. You loved your life alone, but the idea of sharing a family with Tommy…with the person you were in love with seemed like a dream.

Tommy cupped your face with his large hands, dropping his head to yours.

He stared deep into your eyes and smiled softly.

‘You are carryin’ my child in you, love…our child. How could I ever be upset about that? He asked me seriously.

‘Your serious? You’re not angry with me for it?’

He responded by pushing your hair from your face and kissing you so deeply. The kiss was different. It wasn’t hungry, it was soft and loving.

‘I wouldn’t have it any other way. I don’t give a fuck about what money you don’t have. You’re under my care and you will never have to worry about that again. You are the mother of my child, you will always be protected and taken care of, I promise you this.’ He stated so sincerely.

He dropped both of his hands to cup your stomach again and you smiled at the gesture.

‘I love you so much, Tommy.’

Without skipping a beat, Tommy dropped to his knees and kissed your stomach.

‘I love you and I love our child.’ He said, looking up at you and smiling, truly smiling. You knew he was being honest with you. You were able to be a family with the man you loved so deeply.

‘Polly says it’s a boy.’ You said, which brought a chuckle out of Tommy.

‘Another Mr. Shelby, eh? Let’s hope he takes after his mother then.’ You both giggled at that.

You felt silly for being scared of what Tommy would think. You both fell in love with becoming a family together. Your relationship became more to each other than just something casual. He was the father of your child, and you both wouldn’t have it any other way.

#peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby one shot #peaky blinders #tommy shelby smut #thomas shelby

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skaldish · 10 months

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What is Norse Heathenry?

Nowadays, Norse Heathenry is referred to by many names, which reflects different developing iterations of it. Amongst these names are Norse Paganism, Asatru, and Forn Sidr / Forn Sed.

Where does Norse Heathenry come from?

The following explanation is a product of ongoing anthropological, theological, and cultural research, in combination with what we know about the historical.

Norse Heathen Beliefs

Animism

A staple of Norse Heathen epistemology is Animism.

Usually, Animism is defined as the belief that all things have a spirit or vital essence to them. But this is only one definition of many, and not the definition that applies here.

Additionally, there's no separation between the sacred and the profane.

Immanence

Faiths that focus on spiritual ascension, enlightenment, or attaining a good afterlife are known as transcendent faiths.

The Norse Gods

Many people are already familiar with the Norse gods, such as Thor, Odin, Loki, and Freyja, but not many people are familiar with how they operate as gods.

In Norse Heathenry, however, gods don't operate in a lordship capacity. Instead, they're more like celebrities in that they're celebrated figures everyone knows about.

Myths & Folklore

Spirits

Values & Morality

Because Norse Heathenry has no doctrine and is immanent in nature, it has no fixed value system. Just like the stories were decentralized, so were the Norse people's values.

This is a feature as opposed to a flaw, and a fact as opposed to a theory. But it also has a habit of making Americans very uncomfortable.

Anyone claiming Norse Heathenry has a universal value system is either new to Heathenry, or selling something.

Veneration

Heathen veneration is not just limited to gods, but also includes ancestors and even certain kinds of spirits, such as nisse/tomte.

Oftentimes, relationships with entities are very interpersonal. Heathenry's animistic and immanent nature means entities are rarely cold and distant, including the gods.

Misconceptions!

A list of misconceptions off the top of my head:

The Black Sun is a Nazi symbol, not a Heathen one.

No, Norse Heathenry is not a closed practice.

No, you don't have to have Scandinavian heritage to practice Norse Heathenry. Blood quantum is not a thing.

The rune alphabets are old, but the method of runecasting is new.

So is the use of magical bindrunes.

Norse Heathenry is not the same as being a viking, and Norse Heathens are not vikings. However, some Heathens partake in viking reenactment as an extension of their practice.

There's no good or bad gods in Norse Heathenry. All the gods are capable of great good and great bad, just like people. They're fallible, and that's what makes them relatable.

Odin and Loki aren't at odds with one another.

You don't need to wait for a god to pick you to start venerating them.

If you're interested in learning more about any of these in-depth, check out the website I've built on Norse Heathenry, located in my pinned post!

#norse paganism #forn sidr #forn sed #asatru #vanatru #rokkatru #lokean #heathenism

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