#I swear if they try to do something with Solomon working in America

[mlmxreader]

As Long As I’m With You | Alfie Solomons x m!reader

Anonymous asked: Can I request Alfie with the prompt "I didn't mean to get so jealous"? Thank you!

summary: you don’t care where you are or where you’re going, as long as you’re with Alfie

tws: brief mentions of war, swearing, jealousy and possessiveness, threats of gun-related violence

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You and Alfie had been at each other’s sides for more years than you could care to count, and although many thought that you would be closer after serving in the war together, nothing much changed; you were still the only one who ever caught his eye, and he was still the only one who ever made you laugh until you were unable to make any noise.

You weren’t his right-hand man, even if Tommy Shelby had insisted on calling you such, you were Alfie’s partner, and his equal in every sense; Alfie answered to no one when it came to business, except you. You didn’t answer to anyone outside him, either, that was just the way that things were; any business dealings or decisions that needed to be made, you and Alfie would talk it through.

You were his partner as much as he was yours, and almost everybody understood that. Everybody with any decency understood, at least. 

A single shot so many years ago had completely changed the world, but it had left your relationship with Alfie completely untouched, and for that, you would always be thankful; even if everything wasn’t perfect all the time, given his temper and given how prone he was to things like jealousy, you never would have changed it for the world.

They were things that made up your Alfie, things that made you glad that you had chosen to be at his side for so long; even if you didn’t like them they were still parts of him, and you had promised to love every piece.

You weren’t about to go back on that, as if you were an honest man, you would be able to admit that you would have followed him into the trenches all over again; you would have followed Alfie anywhere, so long as it meant that you could be there when he read the morning paper and handed you the crossword sections.

As long as you could do that, you would have followed him anywhere, and you would have gladly taken up your role as a shock troop all over again if you had to; as long as you could do the crosswords, you would happily go back to doing what you did in the war. Right by his side, as always. 

But for now, there was no war, and although tensions were unstable when it came to politics, you and Alfie were happy enough; living in Camden and working together, you were happy. Even Tommy Shelby with his union busting thugs couldn’t get between you. 

You swiped a hand down your face, looking over at Alfie from your place on the windowsill as he shouted at some Italian from America who was trying to fix something or other; the language Alfie used was always coarse and blunt, no matter who he was talking to, but he really did not like the man trying to get in on the business whatsoever.

You couldn’t really be sure why, if you were honest, as he seemed nice enough; when he first walked in, he kissed your cheeks and told you how handsome you were and how you must have been smart for being able to stay in business for so long - Alfie fucking despised him, though. 

“Your, uh, your husband,” the businessman gestured to you. “He’s quite a looker, ain’t he?”

Alfie clenched his jaw, and tensed up as he placed his gun on the table, glaring up at the Italian. “You so much as look at him again, and I will shoot you right between the fuckin’ eyes.”

“I’m just sayin’,” the Italian purred. “He’s a looker, Mister Solomons.”

“And I’m just fuckin’ sayin’, if you look at him again, I will shoot you,” Alfie replied. “He’s my fuckin’ husband, not yours, mate. So get. The. Fuck. Away. Yeah?”

You rolled your eyes, sighing as you decided to keep your mouth shut, turning back to your crossword as you cleared your throat and wiped your nose on the back of your sleeve; Alfie had always been prone to jealousy, you were used to it, and although you didn’t like it so much, you learned a long time ago to make the most of it.

“Alfie, it’s three o’clock.”

He glanced at the clock, then glared at the Italian again. “You’re out of time, mate. Get out.”

“I’ll come back tomorrow,” the Italian chuckled, grinning at you and waving before he finally took his leave.

Alfie locked the office door, and loomed over you as he folded his arms across his chest. “That cunt’s too friendly with you.”

You looked up at him, and you grinned as you licked your lips, trying not to laugh. “Oh, Alf… do you really think I’d let anyone take me away from you?”

“No,” Alfie admitted, pushing your legs off of the windowsill so that he could sit beside you, a harsh sigh coming from the back of his throat as he shook his head. “But he shouldn’t be lookin’ at you like that anyway - you’re my fuckin’ husband, and you’re my fuckin’ business partner - you’d be his boss if he were gonna work with us.”

“He’s just being polite,” you shrugged. “He don’t mean anything by it, y’know.”

He didn’t trust the other man to have thought that way, but he trusted you enough that, after giving it a little thought, he nodded and he sighed. “I didn’t mean to get so jealous, I just… y’know.”

“Yeah, I know, Alf,” you hummed, gently patting his thigh. “But, you wanna know something?”

“What?”

“No matter what happens, no matter who walks in and says shit like that to me or to you,” you started, “at the end of the day, I’d follow you anywhere.”

“Anywhere?”

“Anywhere,” you nodded. “As long as you can get a morning paper so I can do the crosswords while you look at the headlines. I’d follow you anywhere.”

Alfie smiled, putting his arm around your shoulders as he sniffled and cleared his throat. “Well, you might wanna pack your bags.”

“Why?”

“Y’know my little cousin?” He asked. 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “What about him?”

“He’s got his bar mitzvah comin’ up,” Alfie told you with a hum. “And I’m fuckin’ takin’ you with me, because you know what’d happen if I showed up to a family event without you.”

You couldn’t help but to laugh as you shook your head. “So, we’re going on a trip?”

“For a week,” he nodded. “Just you an’ me, for the most part… that sound alright with you, sunshine?”

“Always,” you agreed. “As long as I’m with you, Alf, I don’t care where we go, or for how long.”

[thetriggeredhappy]

day 1 let’s fuckin’ go. everyone listen to butterflies by samsa

Day 1: Pursuit

“You seriously don’t have any better games than this?” Scout complained, looking back down at the board, doubtful. “Not even, like, a deck of cards? To play poker or somethin’?”

“Rather not play two-person poker, and I don’t like gambling anyways,” was Sniper’s reply, not glancing up from shuffling the cards.

“I mean, maybe Go Fish then, or Old Maid, or—or somethin’, not fuckin’… Trivial Pursuit.”

Sniper seemed to mull that over for a moment. “If you don’t want to play,” he started to say, hesitant, and Scout sputtered to cut him off before he could finish that thought.

“I, I mean, I didn’t say that,” he managed, still half-glaring down at the board. “Just, y’know.”

Sniper probably didn’t know, actually. Truthfully, Scout wasn’t much for… book smarts type games. Games that needed quick reflexes, talking quickly, theatrics, those he was a champion at besides his eternally bad luck, but facts and numbers and geography? Those he tended to sort of… fuck up beyond recognition. And he really, really didn’t want to look like a complete idiot in front of Sniper.

Kind of the worst case scenario, actually. But the worse worst case scenario was driving the guy away before even getting to hang out with him, here, the first time he’d ever agreed to one of Scout’s dozens of proposed hangouts.

Hell, he’d honestly gotten used to Sniper always saying no. ‘Nah’ and ‘Not this time’ and ‘Afraid not, sorry mate’ were three phrases Scout had heard at least three and four times a week for months, now. He’d started brushing right through it, stopped letting it hurt his feelings even, although he couldn’t help but get his hopes up, still. Invitations to team drinking nights and poker parties and carpooling with the guys to the movies or a bar or a casino, or more overt invitations to listen to new albums or go out to get fast food or to fairs or to concerts, he’d long since gotten used to those standard, polite rejections.

So he was surprised, then, when he’d delivered his offhanded invitation—“Hey, Snipes, all the other guys bailed on the rec room game night tonight, you wanna be there anyways?”—he hadn’t expected Sniper to hesitate for a few seconds before shrugging and saying sure.

Hell, he was halfway through his ‘yeah no problem no worries man’ before he even realized Sniper said yes, then it was fumbling the whole rest of the way.

Better to be an idiot friend than a distant acquaintance, maybe. That’s what he told himself.

A brief mumbled rundown of the rules went in one ear and out the other as he got preoccupied with looking over one of the cards, mind boggled by what the hell the letters and colors were supposed to mean. A short summary was nodded at vaguely, and apparently his poker face had been terrible all along, because Sniper shrugged and said that they could just play first to six questions right and tally up wins from there. Then they rolled a dice and Sniper, apparently, would go first.

“Alright, uh,” Scout said, squinting down at the little card. “What does a… he-leo-logist, study?”

Sniper thought about it for a second. “Er… the sun,” he replied.

“Yep,” Scout nodded, nudged a piece towards him. Sniper took it. “So, uh, you go again?”

“Yeah. Er… geography, this time,” Sniper mumbled, shuffling some pieces around in a way that probably made sense to people who actually knew how this board game worked.

“Sure. What’s… the country that has South America’s highest and lowest points?”

Another pause. “Bloody… Argentina, isn’t it?” he asked.

“Damn. Okay, next one,” Scout said, less concerned about the fact that Sniper was doing well and more worried at the fact that he was gonna do awful.

“Geography again,” Sniper determined.

“What natural… breakwater, is off the north… eastern, part of Australia?” he read, a little stilted, squinting at the letters, like that would help, for once. Silence, for a pause, then for longer. Scout breathed an internal sigh of relief, smiling a little. “C’mon, it’s your own fuckin’, uh… country, continent, thing, isn’t it?”

“It’s both,” Sniper said, and paused. “It… it’s not talking about the bloody, er… Solomon Islands, is it?”

“Great Barrier Reef,” Scout replied.

Sniper muttered a swear. “Overthought it,” he sighed, nudging the dice over to Scout, who rolled it. Sniper glanced at the number, moved the pieces, looked at a card. “Right. What craft uses a… kiln, and a kick wheel?”

Scout could’ve cried. “That’s, uh, pottery, sculpting,” he said, relieved.

A nod from Sniper, a piece scooped onto his side of the table, the dice rolled a few seconds later when he realized he was supposed to do that. “How many colors are in the rainbow?” he asked next.

Scout had to count off on his fingers for a second. “Uh, seven,” he said, and fist-pumped when Sniper nodded, scooping up another piece. “Even though it’s, uh, kinda bullishit. There should be six.”

Sniper’s eyebrows ticking up in confusion probably was a sign he should drop it, but instead he found himself spouting off.

“Because, uh, like, y’know, there’s—there’s the kinds of colors, right?” he said, backpedaling at his response of furrowed eyebrows. “Like, the basic ones, the, uh, primary colors, that’s red and yellow and blue, y’know? And then the other three, that you get from mixing those, like, uh, red and yellow is, uh… is orange, and then like, green, and purple, you combine ‘em, right?”

Sniper nodded slowly after a moment.

“But then you got, uh, fuckin’… indigo. In the, uh, in the list of colors, fuckin’, Roy G. Biv? Red orange yellow, green, blue indigo violet? And I know it’s, like, blue and dark blue, but I think that still sucks. If we’ve got indigo we’ve gotta have like, the other in- between guys. Know what I mean?”

“Don’t have much of an opinion on it, but, sounds like you’re making points,” Sniper said, and Scout shrugged, glanced down at the table, tapped his fingertips against his knees out of sight to try and let out some nervous energy. “Bloody, er… your turn, or mine?”

“Uh, mine,” Scout said, scrambling to roll the dice.

“Right. Sorry. Er…” Sniper read over the card. “Patron saint of Scotland?”

Scout swore under his breath, deflating a little, coming up blank. “Uh… hey, Demo!” he called, and heard a vague ‘aye’ from the kitchen. “Who’s the patron saint of Scotland?”

“My mum,” Demo called back, and Sniper snickered, at least, which softened the blow to Scout’s confidence considerably.

“Ah, fuck off,” Scout called back, and looked back at Sniper, smiling. “Saint Scrumpy, fuck, I dunno.”

“Saint Andrew, apparently,” Sniper shrugged, rolling the dice. “Sports question. The orange one.”

Scout tried to read the question before starting to say anything out loud, and found himself completely lost anyways. “Who was the first… Ch—Check-uh-slavarian… to win, the… Wimbleton…”

“No idea,” Sniper said outright, shaking his head at himself. “Don’t follow, er… what, the Olympics?”

“Tennis, I guess,” Scout shrugged, rolling the dice.

“Sports for you too. What did… bloody hell. What did second baseman Bill… Wambsganss, do all by himself in the, er… 1920 World Series game?”

“Oh, shit,” Scout laughed, “guy did, like, a triple play, and then hit into a double later that same game. That was the year some guy got hit in the head with a ball and fuckin’ died.”

Sniper was staring at him, clearly shocked.

“What?” Scout asked, rolling the dice. “I know baseball. And it was a whole thing.”

Sniper seemed to shrug it off, shaking his head. “What’s the Taj Mahal made of?”

“Fuckin’, I dunno, chocolate? What, that some kinda dessert? What’s that?” Scout scoffed, trying to play it off.

“It’s… it’s a place. Looks a bit like a castle? Like, er, like the Eiffel Tower, or Big Ben, tourist sort of thing?” Sniper tried, and Scout shrugged, and he shrugged back, rolling the dice. “Fair enough. One of the, er, Science ones. Green one.”

Scout looked at the card for a few seconds. “I… dunno how to say this word. Glue… glay… what’s that?”

Sniper leaned over, and Scout turned it towards him. “Glaucoma. Hits your eyes,” he said, and Scout nodded, and he took a piece, rolled again. “Brown one.”

“What are… catalogued, under the Dewey decimal system?” Scout asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“Books, library books,” Sniper mumbled.

“Jesus, are you—where’s the mirrors, seriously? How are you doing that?” Scout asked, and Sniper huffed something like a laugh, taking the piece, rolling again. “No, no, seriously. How the hell do you know half of these?”

“Geography, blue,” he prompted.

“Alright, I swear to god.” Scout held the card close as he read it, first to himself, then out loud. “What national capital is heated by underground hot springs?”

Sniper, to his credit, paused for a moment before answering. “Iceland’s. Reykjavik, it’s called.”

“I swear to god.” Scout flipped over the card, read the answer. “Oh, what the fuck!”

“I’ve bloody been there!” Sniper defended.

“Nah, fuck off, hold on—“ Scout picked up another card, reading another question. “Where in a tree does photosynthesis happen?”

“Leaves.”

“How do you know that so fast!” Scout demanded.

“That’s just science class in school!”

“Fuckin’—who, fuckin’, rode on the raft with Huck Finn?” Scout asked next.

“The, er… runaway, Jim.”

“Oh, what!” Scout all but shouted.

“Scout, I read.”

“Nah, nah, you’re way too good at this game, either you’re like, cheating, or you on purpose picked this game because you’re, like, weirdly crazy good at it or something!”

Sniper’s expression went from amusement to that blankness again, and it only made Scout even more infuriated.

“I mean, seriously, did you pick this game on purpose because you just know all the cards? Did you just wanna do the game where you’d for sure win?” he demanded.

Sniper was fidgeting with his glasses, now, and to be honest, Scout wasn’t even particularly mad, just confused.

“I mean, shit, you’d think you just wanted too play this one so you could look smart and cool and shit like that,” he said. and saw the way Sniper shrank a little, and the lightbulb went off way too late.

A pause.

“Dude,” Scout said, fighting down a laugh.

Sniper mumbled something he didn’t quite hear, sinking in his chair.

“Alright, seriously, if you wanna look smarter than me, you really don’t gotta pull out the trivia questions. Pretty much any game works, you know that, right? I’ll make an idiot of myself playing, like… Uno,” Scout said. Sniper shrugged, still not looking him in the eye. “Okay. Here’s an idea. How about we play, uh… I dunno, Crazy Eights. And while we play I’m gonna keep grilling you on this random trivia shit because seriously, that’s totally nuts, man.”

Sniper hesitated for a few seconds before he finally nodded and straightened up, and in a way, they both won. Scout because he now at least knew he wasn’t the only one who was a total mess and way too worried about what other people thought, and Sniper because he could keep being impressive about random trivia knowledge. Apparently, he knew a bunch about geography and books and nature, and not a single thing about sports.

Scout accused him of trying to memorize the cards. Sniper laughed, properly, for the first time all night.

[imaginesbymk]

PINK + WHITE.

—chapter eight ; the flapper girl.

summary: teresa’s permanent resignation from the peaky blinders leads her to a whole new chapter of working in an art museum. but little did she know her best life would be butchered some time later when her former lover tommy shelby gives her no choice but to return to the peaky blinders after they make new enemies, with the leader, of all people, being the man teresa fell in love with one night after a wedding reception back in post world war; luca changretta.

pairing: luca changretta x OC x tommy shelby

tags in this chapter: swearing, drinking

[ chapter index / meet my oc / wattpad link ]

“TERESA, would it kill ya to quit staring at me? I'm tryna do my work here." He fumbles for the ballpoint pen that fell out of his shaky hand. Even when his eyes were down, he still felt hers following his every move when he picked up certain sheets, watching his lips curl when he read a sentence on a report from his father, or just overthinking if Teresa was judging his appearance. There's nothing on my chin, is there? Food in my teeth?

"Am I making the Italian mafioso Luca Changretta nervous?" Teresa leaned over the desk to trail her finger down Luca's chest where she could tease him by gripping the line of his blazer and rip the buttons off. "The same Italian mafioso that got some amateur in Los Angeles to beg on his knees?"

Luca didn't look up from his work. "He was trying to be sneaky and spent nearly a hundred dollars worth of gin for his mistress."

"Is that something you would do? Spend every dime to make his mistress happy?"

"I spend money on myself, to make myself look and feel good, some for business and for special occasions. But I also save," Luca glanced at her, mostly at her cleavage. "And you're not my mistress. I'm not even married. My mother wonders when I'm ever gonna tie the knot with a woman back home." Luca sighs and takes a break, resting his head for a moment. He grunts, rubbing his temple.

"Want me to take over?"

"No," Luca pulls her closer, using his other hand to set his folders to the side so carelessly. "Come here."

She obeys, allowing him to lift her up and carry her on top of his desk.

Luca kisses her. "Ciao, bella," he whispers to her. He kept going, making his way into the sensitive spot of Teresa's neck, his lips pressing against it so gently.

Teresa chuckles, feeling his hand run up her dress. "Who are you? Dracula?"

"Hm?"

"I mean you sort of look like him. You're about to drain the blood out of my neck, so you need me to be in the right position."

"Dracula draining the blood from a flapper girl, eh?"

The sounds of knocking on the heavy wooden doors made Teresa hop off the desk, thinking it was one of his men, or even his mother. She wouldn't contain the embarrassment of being affectionate and intimate with someone's son. It could possibly be the maids, but not the same ones from the hotel Luca stayed at. He fancied staying at a manor his father bought somewhere up north, his family members occupying the other rooms just a few ways down, but just spacious enough for everyone, even for a Welsh named Teresa.

Luca clears his throat and turns the knob. The servers come in with the trolley cart of a decanter and two glasses. "You ordered whiskey, Sir?"

The Italian watched the servers roll in the bar cart and nodded at him before shutting the door on their way out. "You like whiskey, amore?"

"Love all kinds of poison." Teresa walked over to the cart, picking up the vessel. She lifts the glass lid and brings it to her nose to let in a good smell. "Rich, like you."

Luca scoffs. "Yeah, if you drink out of that decanter, you'll become a part of us."

Teresa scoffs back.

"What? Teresa, becoming a soldier was like striking gold."

"I'd rather stay here and sit in the gardens, or walk around this palace wearing only my stockings."

Luca shrugged, imagining the erotic sight. It's happened before and he experienced it first-hand. "I bought you those stockings," he comments, staring down at her legs.

"I'll become a part of your family when the cows come home."

"Oh, come on! Don't gimme that. My family likes you."

"Seriously?" Teresa makes a face at him, and he responds by rolling his eyes.

"Okay, maybe it'll take some time."

"Your mother called me a brazen hussy the other day. Like what you said, she wants you to marry a woman in New York. She's mentioned a name, the woman is close with your family and she often visits at dinner parties? She came to the wedding." Teresa smirks. "She's Italian."

Luca grunts, knowing exactly who she was talking about. "Viviana."

"Signora Viviana must be the whole package."

"We consider her family, but I can't imagine marrying her," Luca shook his head, pouring himself a glass of the whiskey. "Matteo would be crushed."

Teresa was already ahead of him, nearly downing the whiskey, ready for a refill. She brings the glass to her lips, about to take in the last sip. "Do you want to get married?"

"Someday."

Teresa nodded.

"When we were at my cousin's wedding, as best man, I watched two people who were so in love exchange vows. I really felt the love my cousin had for his wife that day. And I know one day that'll happen to me. I'll marry the most beautiful bride who is my whole world. I'll be able to wake up next to her and remember how she likes her coffee in the morning."

"She'll be the luckiest wife."

"I'll treat her like a diamond."

"She'll come around. I'm sure she's somewhere out there, searching for you. Hell, she could be right on your bloody nose," Teresa jokes.

Well to be fair, the woman named Viviana was right on Luca's nose for quite some time. She shared her beautiful smile with the family, and Luca did admire her, respected her when she paid her contribution to the family. She could be waiting for him to return home as of right now, and throw her arms around the Italian so they could spend a night drinking champagne on a balcony.

Yet, Luca didn't set his lust and attention on Viviana. Not even at his cousin's wedding. Luca was picky when it came to his preferences with people, that's part of being a Changretta. But there was someone he wished his mother showed at least some respect to, a woman whose eyes light up like stars whenever Luca says her name...

Yeah, he answered to himself, watching Teresa refill her glass from the whiskey decanter. Maybe I already found her.

TERESA ran her fingers through her head, thinking about what she told Finn the other day that made the young boy rush back to Small Heath before she could settle down for her lunch break, taking her words with him. The blinds that gaped in between to let in the last bit of afternoon sun into the dark room of her office gave out the blonde locks she styled for yet another casual day. Simply walking down each corridor and back to the departments was a way to wastefully tear down the strands to her cheeks as she kept her head down so carelessly.

See what happens when you open your mouth, 'Resa? She sighs, knowing that revealing her past love to be the man that's after the Peaky Blinders would either cause high tides between her and them, or maybe even her and Luca himself, or maybe more pestering phone calls from Tommy.

Luca. He's a malicious man, she couldn't deny that. He would get his way without an issue, and if someone had to object about that, if someone were to challenge a man with such high power, would they live to tell about it? She would hate having the idea of handing the one thing she has all to herself to a man who would gladly have paintings hung in his gigantic home. The Changretta family distributes gin in and out of America with the exception of handling Alfie Solomons' rum, anyways, so why would he want to claim an art gallery all the way in Wales?

The thought of Luca threatening to put a bullet through hers or any one of her loved ones' heads sent a chill in her body. Would Luca ever do that to her? Would the Italian ever have the thought of harming someone he had a past relationship with? Would he regret it?

What was even left of Teresa's loved ones, anyhow? She wasn't as close to her team to consider them family. Perhaps one time she scolded the manager for not realizing one of their employees smoked a cigar when the gallery has a strict no smoking indoors rule, but she couldn't live with the thought of having them indirectly killed by the New York mafia. Come to think of it, she didn't have anyone, which is just as disheartening as having someone to protect. Maybe if she never got her brother killed that day—

She walks out after setting her teacup in the tiny space left open on her desk. Normally she would hear distant chatters from the tour guides speaking to the guests, or just guests speaking among each other, talking about whatever piece they lay their gaze on. But she frowned when she noticed how empty the gallery was, except for maybe five guests. Given that it's still hours in the early afternoon. Why wasn't it busy?

Teresa approaches two guides, asking the question that swirled her head. "Where is everyone?"

"I believe the gallery is in need of an upgrade." One of the tour guides spoke out, a bit of nervousness in their voice to speak up on feedback to the owner.

"Was deco not enough?"

"Most of it has already been seen, Miss."

The Welsh shook her head. "What does that even mean? The people wanted to see deco, we gave them deco. I provided rum to the guests on the grand re-opening, I made sure this place is clean and shiny from every inch of every corner. How could this place already be dead? At this hour?"

The tour guides slightly shook their heads, shrugging.

Teresa sighs. "Fine. Have any of you seen Mason?"

Mason Miller was hired on the spot when his well pressed suit and love for Rococo struck admiration for Teresa. She saw her younger self in him, almost like she was looking in the mirror of the past. Someone at a young age so passionate, she needed him as extra help.

"With all due respect, Miss Griffith, there hasn't been enough—I would say razzle-dazzle, to the place. We have a lot to catch up on, or guests will yawn and find themselves out the exit."

"Mason, this is a gallery, not a circus." Teresa scratches her neck. "It's been days since the opening. Our blood, sweat and tears shouldn't be a one time thing and dropped down to rubbish."

Her assistant shrugs. "Well, these days people don't wake up and think about visiting a gallery, y'know? You can find art deco everywhere you go; fancy dinner parties, manors. It inspires what we wear on occasions."

Teresa stares at her desk. "If Luca Changretta were to ever own this gallery, would he fix this problem? Make the place go fucking bankrupt?"

"I'm sorry, w-who? Luca Ch..." Mason asks, skimming through his clipboard of names he might have missed pinpointing and scheduling a meeting with.

Teresa looked at her assistant, realizing she spoke out her thoughts. "It's nothing. You're dismissed."

"Thank you." He smiles to himself as he bid an exit out of her office for Teresa to be back with her thoughts. Her jaw clenched. I will not let my team down, and I will not give my gallery to a mafioso.

"Actually, Mason?" the young lad stepped foot inside again, peering in with his full attention on one odd request. "Luca Changretta, that's his name. I'd like for you to find where he is at the moment and set up an invitation via letter. Let me know when he responds at your earliest convenience."

"Miss...?"

She didn't stop rationalizing it. She even settled for it faster than deciding not to ally with the Peaky Blinders. Mason Miller stared awkwardly at his boss as she set her focus back on her notepad laid on her desk. "I'd like to meet up with Luca Changretta."

+ enjoy my scene edit above! my peaky blinders editing account is @/fcknshelbys via ig.

[mystical-flute]

Uncharted Waters (chapt. 2)

Also on AO3 || Ko-Fi

Something was poking her.

She groaned heavily against her pillow, the reality of what had transpired the previous night beginning to flood back to her.

Right. She was no longer in Alabasta. She was in Domino and the creator of Duel Monsters had sucked her grandfather’s soul out of his body. Because that was apparently now a thing that happened in Domino.

She wanted to fall back asleep and pretend this wasn’t happening, but something continued to poke her arm.

Reika didn’t bother lifting her head from her pillow as she spoke. “Yugi, I swear to God the shop better be on fire.”

“I just wanted to say hi before I went to school,” came her cousin’s soft voice.

Slowly, she raised her head, tired brown eyes meeting the wide violet of the figure hovering over her bed.

“Hi.” Her face dropped back into the comforting darkness.

“How was your flight? What time did you get in? Did you bring any souvenirs from California?” Yugi asked, and Reika realized she would not be getting any more sleep.

He only babbled like this when he was nervous.

So Reika took a deep breath and hauled herself into a sitting position, gesturing for Yugi to sit next to her before yawning and shaking out her hair.

“Three-thirty. It was fine. Mostly empty. Tried to sleep, didn’t get much of it,” she rattled off. “And no, I left too quickly to grab anything. Sorry. But what’s on your mind?”

“Pegasus and his tournament,” Yugi admitted. “I’m leaving tomorrow, but none of my friends can come with me.”

“Friends? You’ve made more friends other than Téa?”

“Yeah! A few of them, actually. My wish on the puzzle came true!”

“Yugi, that’s great!” she said, hugging him. “You worked on that thing for years, I would hope it would hold up its end of the bargain with how long it took.”

Yugi looked down at it, a nervous look crossing his features. “I think it has something to do with why Pegasus took grandpa’s soul.”

“I think that sounds plausible. I guess those stories Grandpa told us weren’t just bedtime stories after all,” she said with a sigh, looking at her bracelet. “It’s pretty insane to think about though, isn’t it? Ancient Egyptian magic being real, and all.”

“Yeah,” Yugi frowned, looking between the bracelet on her wrist and the puzzle around his neck. “Do you think they’re dangerous?”

“I think if they are, it’s nothing we can’t handle,” she said with a small smile. “But if it makes you feel any better, I’ll try to research what I can about the items while you’re at school.”

“You will?”

She nodded. “Of course. It’s important to know why someone would want to harm us. And if we figure out the secrets of these objects… maybe we can beat Pegasus at his own twisted game.”

“I hope so. If I don’t make it to the finals and win - ”

“Hey, no, don’t think like that. You have something Pegasus doesn’t.”

“What’s that?”

She poked his chest with a grin. “Heart. And a support network that’s going to be watching your duels and cheering you on, even if we’re miles apart.”

“Yugi! Are you ready for school?” Téa suddenly called.

“You’d better hurry. Don’t want to be late.”

He nodded, and she followed him downstairs.

“Oh! I’m surprised to see you up already, sweetheart,” Aunt Kumi said. “I would have thought you’d want to get more rest.”

“It’s okay, Aunt Kumi. My internal clock is still out of alignment from the time change,” she replied, giving her a hug before looking over at Téa. “It’s good to see you again, Téa.”

She grinned. “Hi Reika! I have so many questions for you about America!”

“I’d be happy to answer whatever you want to know when you get back from school.”

Yugi looked up at the clock and blanched, grabbing Téa’s hand and pulling her out the door with a shouted goodbye.

Kumi shook her head in amusement as the duo headed back into the apartment. “He’s really blossomed over the past few months. I’m proud of him. And to be invited to a tournament hosted by Maximillion Pegasus himself! It’s quite exciting.”

Reika smiled a little, wondering just how much her aunt was aware of everything that had happened. “It’s good to see him out of his shell like this. I think I’m going to take a shower and then head to the hospital, Aunt Kumi.”

“Don’t forget to get something to eat before you go,” Kumi said, frowning a little.

She paused as she pulled a towel out of the closet. “Right. I think I’ll just grab a breakfast bar and a thermos of coffee.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to make you something else? I made omurice for Yugi and I today…”

Reika smiled weakly. “I’m sure, Aunt Kumi. I’m not all that hungry right now anyway. Maybe tomorrow morning?”

Kumi still didn’t seem all that convinced, but sighed in defeat. “I just hope you haven’t gotten too accustomed to quick breakfasts like the Americans are known to have.”

She chuckled a little. “The grab and go breakfasts would never be able to hold a candle to yours. I promise.”

If anything, going from a restaurant chef cooking all her meals, to her aunt, who had no restaurant experience, was going to be a bit of a downgrade.

Before long, Reika was back in her car, a backpack full of her grandfather’s Egypt history textbooks and a notebook on the seat beside her.

“I’m glad we finally have some privacy, Reika,” a voice suddenly said.

Reika nearly swerved into the other lane.

“Azila, you have got to stop surprising me like this,” she said, glancing in the mirror to find the spirit in the back seat.

“I apologize.”

“What’s up?”

“I am concerned about the Millennium Puzzle.”

Reika frowned. “What? Why?”

“The Shadow Games, Reika. They are not meant for this world. They never have been. If your cousin was in one… this could mean the world is in grave danger. Both of them.”

“You think Eturn could be affected by this too?”

Azila nodded. “Well, you must remember, Eturn and Earth were connected when I was alive and the shadow magic ran rampant. I fear what that man - Kenji - was speaking about last night when we returned here could be due to the Shadow Games.”

“Are you sure? Kenji implied it’d been happening for a while, and that headache I had makes me think they only started with whatever happened with Pegasus and my cousin,” she said, pulling into the hospital parking lot.

“Perhaps, but are we certain they only started last night? Or have they been going on longer, and we only realized it because Yugi got involved?”

Reika didn’t have a response to that except a sigh. “I guess I’ll have to look into it when I talk to someone from the I.D.R.A. But I should get inside and… see gramps.”

Azila nodded. “Very well.”

Her phone beeped, distracting her briefly.

I’m sorry. I can’t meet with you just yet. There’s something I need to take care of before I can be seen in public.

Are you still upset about my cousin beating you in a duel?

It’s not me. It’s the investors. But I have a way to get KaibaCorp back on top.

Just be safe.

I will.

Letting out a soft sigh, Reika grabbed her bag, heading inside.

Seeing Solomon Muto laying prone in a hospital bed with too many wires attached to him shattered her heart. She dropped her backpack on the ground next to the chair and sat down shakily.

“Grandpa… I don’t know what Pegasus did to you, but I promise, Yugi’s going to rescue you,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here. If I had been - ”

If she had been here when it happened, what? Would that have even mattered? Pegasus was inside a TV - she couldn’t very well have grabbed him and pinned him down to stop him.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, taking his hand. “I promised Yugi I’d look into the Millennium Items to see if we can figure anything out. I thought you’d like that, since I wasn’t really interested in them when I was a kid. I borrowed some of your books… I hope you don’t mind.”

He wouldn’t, even when he woke up. She knew that, but talking to herself was helping to distract her from the sounds of the medical equipment.

“You always said reading out loud helped you when you were studying, so I’m going to try that too,” she said, taking a deep breath and pulling one of the books out of her bag. “The Nameless Pharaoh, one of Egypt’s greatest mysteries…”

-----

Alden Leichter didn’t ask many questions when it came to the partnership with Pegasus. The partnership between them seemed to be going smoothly enough, and soon they would each be getting what they wanted. That damned Seto Kaiba would no longer be an issue, and KaibaCorp could go back to the way it used to be. The way they needed it to be.

He wasn’t sure what Yugi Muto’s place was in all of this, but he had heard through his connections that the boy’s grandfather, Solomon, had ended up comatose, which, in his mind, led to only one conclusion:

The return of young Miss Reika.

He hadn’t expected to care about her after Miaka’s disappearance, but there had been something about the girl that told him to keep her in the Young Five program, so he did.

It was that same feeling that told him to stop at Kame Game when it came into view on his way back to KaibaCorp after an early meeting on the outskirts of town.

The bell chimed above his head, and he heard quick footsteps rushing to greet him.

“Oh! Alden, what a surprise this is!” Kumi Muto said with a wide smile. “What brings you here?”

“Ms. Kumi,” he replied, bowing his head in respect. “I heard about your father-in-law’s health decline and thought I should stop by and see if you were okay.”

Kumi’s eyes turned sad. “Oh - well, I suppose we’re okay as any of us can be. Solomon’s been in such good health, it’s surprising that he fell so ill so quickly.”

He nodded. “Yes, he seemed to be the picture of health the last I saw him. It’s unfortunate that age can catch up to us in the blink of an eye. Have you heard from Miss Reika at all?”

“Reika got in early this morning. She’s with Solomon at the hospital. Although I admit, I’m worried for her, too.”

He frowned. “Oh? What seems to be the issue?”

“She really didn’t eat all that much for breakfast, and before she left, I noticed she had a backpack full of books with her. I’m concerned she’s fallen back into that pattern of hers where she studies too hard and forgets to eat. If it isn’t too much trouble, I was wondering if you would - ”

Alden smiled in understanding. “I don’t have anything else I can’t miss until late this afternoon. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you, Alden. I swear, sometimes you have better luck with her than I do.”

He had a hunch as to why, but kept his thoughts to himself as he took his leave.

As he looked into Solomon’s room, he found Reika curled up in one of the chairs. A history book lay on the floor in front of her, upside down. It was obvious it had fallen off her lap at some point.

“Miss Reika?” he asked gently, setting the bag he’d brought with him on the tray.

A tired grunt was the only response he got.

It wasn’t the first time he’d caught her asleep like this, so he went to his old stand by.

“Miss Reika, can you tell me the year the California Gold Rush began?”

“ -teen forty eight,” came the half-mumbled response.

He couldn’t help but smirk. “Can you repeat that, Miss Reika? I didn’t quite hear you.”

“Eighteen forty eight Mr... Leichter!” her head snapped up in realization, eyes wide. “Mr. Leichter, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you’d be coming.”

He took a seat next to her. “It’s quite alright Miss Reika. I didn’t mean to disturb you, but your aunt seemed concerned…”

Reika shifted in the chair so she was sitting properly. “About what?”

Alden pulled out the soup and sandwich he’d gotten for her. “About you eating. I thought I would drop off lunch for you.”

He saw a moment of confusion in her gaze before her eyes softened. “Oh. Right. That. She didn’t seem too pleased this morning.”

A soft laugh escaped him before he turned his attention to the textbook she put on the tray. “She mentioned you were studying. I thought your exams were done for the summer?”

Reika hesitated. “They are. I don’t know, I guess I just… was hoping that if I started studying these items like my grandpa did he’d… wake up or something.”

“It’s a sweet thought, Miss Reika. Your mother would tell me stories of how much your grandfather loves Egypt.”

Reika’s face flickered at the mention of Miaka. She reached for the soup, opening the lid and stirring it carefully. “Dad always said grandpa wanted him or Uncle Takeo to go into archaeology. Continue the family tradition, you know?” her voice was watery, though Alden could tell she was trying to be strong.

“I think you continuing it is a wonderful thing. Your grandfather was so excited when we spoke about you getting accepted to the University of Santa Cruz,” Alden said, squeezing her shoulder. It was then that he noticed the bracelet on her wrist, with the same design as the eye Master Pegasus wore.

That was interesting.

“I hope you weren’t taken away from any important business, Mr. Leichter. I’m sure KaibaCorp is buzzing with the Duelist Kingdom tournament about to start,” Reika said.

Alden shook his head. “It’s nothing I can’t catch up on. Besides, Mr. Kaiba told us to take it easy this weekend given Ma - Mr. Pegasus’ tournament. Even he’s listening to himself and took Mokuba on a small getaway this weekend.”

Her gaze went unreadable for a moment, before she spoke. “I’m glad to hear that. I know his loss to Yugi wasn’t easy for him to handle.”

He cleared his throat. “Yes - right. He’s been working himself to the bone ever since that loss.”

The shareholders had gotten nervous though. That duel being one of the reasons some of them had dropped Kaiba Corp was completely illogical and stupid in Alden’s mind, and a sign that Seto Kaiba was not meant to be leading the company.

“Do you think Mom and Dad would be proud of me, Mr. Leichter?” Reika suddenly asked quietly.

He blinked, looking at her. She was staring down at the sandwich in her lap, a faraway look in her eyes.

Alden gave her a sad smile. The poor thing had so much weight on her shoulders. “Of course I do. You’ve worked incredibly hard to learn English, traveled across the ocean to attend school. You’re following in your grandfather’s footsteps to study archaeology. Why on Earth wouldn’t they be?”

Reika pressed her lips together. “It’s been ten years since they went missing… it’s just getting harder to remember anything about them,” she admitted, looking over at him. “I miss them.”

Alden nodded in understanding, reaching to take her chin gently. “I know. I can’t imagine how difficult these ten years have been.”

Her dark eyes, wet with tears, met his gaze. “I’m going to find out what happened to them one day.”

There it was. That look of determination so fierce that even the gods themselves would be swayed to her whims.

“I don’t doubt you will, Miss Reika,” Alden said with a grin before glancing over at the clock. “However, I am due back at KaibaCorp for a meeting. I will speak with you soon.”

She nodded. “I understand. Thank you for lunch, Mr. Leichter.”

“It’s no trouble, but just make sure you don’t go forgetting to eat properly again,” he chastised gently. “Your aunt would have my head.”

Reika laughed, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I won’t, I promise.”

Alden reached to squeeze her shoulder gently before exiting the hospital.

“Where the hell have you been, Alden?” Gansley grumbled as Alden took his seat at the table. “The meeting starts in five minutes!”

“Reika has returned to Domino. I was at the hospital paying her a visit,” he replied with a shrug.

Nezbitt frowned slightly. “The hospital? Oh yes, that’s right. Her grandfather was admitted there, wasn’t he?”

“How’s the kid doin’?” Crump asked.

“Suffering from a bit of shock, but otherwise she seems to be doing well. Contemplative for her parents, but I suppose that would be common. It’s been ten years since they disappeared after all.”

“O-ho, are we gossiping before the meeting?” crackled Pegasus’ voice from the phone. “I do love a good story.”

“We were discussing Reika Muto, sir. She’s Leichter’s protege,” Johnson explained in his monotone voice. “She’s the cousin of the boy who defeated Mr. Kaiba.”

“How interesting…” Pegasus mused. “Is she a duelist as well?”

“As far as I’m aware, she does know how to, but not like Mr. Kaiba or Yugi,” Alden explained. “But I did notice she had a bracelet on today with the same marking as your eye.”

There was an uncomfortably long pause on Pegasus’ end, and for a moment Alden wondered if the line had disconnected.

“Well then, hopefully Duelist Kingdom will make her more interested in my little card game,” Pegasus said instead. “Now, onto our meeting, gentlemen…”

Alden felt a sliver of worry slowly melt away as he relaxed in his seat.

----------

“Did you find anything out about the items?” Yugi asked.

She shook her head, biting into a slice of pizza. “Nothing that grandpa didn’t already tell us when he gave these to us. It’s so strange. But while I was in America I found out that my bracelet has a ghost attached to it.”

“Sometimes when I duel… I feel another presence,” Yugi admitted. “Do you think the puzzle has a ghost in it too?”

“At this point, nothing would surprise me. But look, just because we haven’t been able to find any more information out about the items doesn’t mean you’re going to fail at this,” she said. “Remember what I said earlier. You have heart. Pegasus doesn’t. I’ve learned over the past year that people with heart, with something to fight for, are sometimes the most dangerous.”

Yugi gave her a weak smile just as her phone began to buzz.

She frowned as she glanced at it, not recognizing the number as she put it to her ear. “Hello?”

“Hello Reika, my name is Maximillion Pegasus.”

Reika sat up straight in her seat, prompting a questioning look from Yugi. “Mr. Pegasus, how did you get this number?”

Yugi’s eyes went wide, and he opened his mouth to speak as Reika pressed her finger to her lips to hush him.

“When you run a multi-billion dollar company, it isn’t that difficult to get what you want.”

“And what could you possibly want from me?”

“I want to invite you to observe the Duelist Kingdom tournament with me.”

She raised a brow. “The tournament?”

“Yes, I’m inviting you to stay in my palace. Think of it as a VIP experience!”

She could see the red flags immediately, but on the other hand, this was the man who was holding her grandfather’s soul hostage. One wrong move and… well, she didn’t want to think about it.

“I would be honored, Mr. Pegasus,” she said. “But how would I get there? Am I boarding the ship with Yugi?”

“Oh goodness, no! That’s only for my competitors. I’ll be sending my personal helicopter for you. Like I said, VIP experience! What do you say?”

Reika’s fingers twitched against the phone, but still, she managed the enthusiasm. “I think that sounds… amazing, Mr. Pegasus. I’ll be there at six. Yes, goodbye.”

Yugi jumped up the moment her phone hit the couch next to her. “You accepted an invitation from Pegasus? Reika, what if - ”

“It’s a trap? It probably is.”

“Then why would you agree to put yourself in danger like that?”

She almost laughed, as if she hadn’t helped liberate a country from a dictator over a week ago. “He’s got our grandfather, Yugi. If I turned him down, who knows what he would have done?”

“I still don’t like this.”

“I don’t either, but I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Despite her confidence, neither of them ate much more of the pizza.

[justcallmefox89]

Dancin’ On My Own

Jax and Beelzebub rescue Mammon from a bad night out on the town.  Back at the House of Lamentation the two finally find out what really happened between Arianthi and Mammon.  Jax goes above and beyond to help their new friends heal.  

Written from the perspective of my non-binary OC Jax.  Also includes other original characters from my Obey Me - Truth or Dare series.

TWs - angst, discussion of pregnancy, infant loss, dealing with emotions surrounding death, emotional manipulation.

I do my best to keep up with Beel as he pulls me through the winding streets of the Devildom towards The Fall; one of his long strides easily matching two or three of my own.  By the time we meet up with Asmo and Solomon outside the club’s doors I’m breathing hard.

“Hey guys,” I say, sucking in a deep breath.  “How’s it going?”

Asmo manages to stop looking worried long enough to smirk at me.  “Hello Jax.  Beel didn’t say you were coming too.”

I feel heat rising in my cheeks and move to let go of Beel’s hand, but he just grips my hand tighter.

“What’s going on Asmo?”  Beel asks, voice tense.

Asmo’s face falls and Solomon puts a comforting arm around him.

“Mammon showed up about 45 minutes ago,” Solomon says.   “He was already drunk.  We tried to get him to sit with us but -” he pauses as if he’s trying to find the right way to phrase his next statement.

Asmo throws a dirty look towards the inside of the club.  “Some of the witches Mammon has pacts with showed up.  They pulled him away.  A few lower level demons have been circling like vultures, try to start fights.”

Beel growls, a low aggressive sound I’ve never heard him make before.  He shoves through the front doors of the club, the rest of us racing behind him to catch up.

The four of us push through the throng of people on the dance floor, searching desperately for Mammon.

“There!”  Solomon yells to be heard over the music, pointing at a booth tucked towards the back of the club.

Beel starts to charge over to him, but I pull on his sleeve to catch his attention.  He bends down so he can hear me and I bring my mouth close to his ear.

“Let me go first.  He probably won’t be threatened by me trying to talk to him.  If he starts getting out of control I’ll wave for you.”

Beel nods and gives me a quick kiss, then I start wandering over to Mammon’s booth, attempting to look casual.

Oh hell.  

My heart drops down into my stomach.  Mammon’s knuckles are scraped and bloodied, he has an open gash on his forehead, and blood trickles from an open cut in his lip.  

Looks like those other demons found the fight they were looking for.

Even more worryingly, a group of five women surround him, drinking and laughing, hands roaming through his hair and over his body.  Mammon sits like a statue, hands on the table, eyes unfocused and staring at some distant point only he can see.  

I move towards the table with a little more purpose.  “Mammon!”  I yell, trying to get his attention.  

He doesn’t acknowledge me, but I’ve definitely gotten the attention of his companions.  

“Hello,” a dark haired witch purrs, sidling up to me.  “Did Mammon get a new human pet?”

Really?  I hate her already.

A hand runs over my shoulders, and I turn my head to see a blonde has come up behind me, standing entirely too close.  “How do you know our Mammon?”

“Pretty sure he’s not your anything lady,” I mutter, moving sideways to slip away from the blonde.

“Did you need something with Mammon?”  The brunette studies me carefully, trailing one finger down my cheek and towards my throat.

I slap her hand away in irritation.  “Back off Sabrina.”

She snatches her hand back and hisses at me in displeasure.  

I reach forward and grab Mammon’s shoulder.  “Mammon!  Mammon!  Come on dude.  We gotta leave.  Now!”  

I shake him a few times, getting progressively rougher each time, trying to snap him out of his haze.

He eventually looks up and gives me a weak smile.  “Hey Jax.  Is Arianthi here?”

The raw need in his eyes and hope in his voice make my chest constrict.  

Goddamn it.  I’m fixing this.  Tonight. 

I latch on to his arm and tug.  “Come on buddy.  We’re getting out of here.”

He shakes his head and slouches further down in his seat.  The witches converge on us.  

“Looks like he doesn’t want to go with you,” the brunette snickers.

I jerk on his arm again, desperate to get him to stand up.  “Mammon, we’re leaving.  Right now.  Arianthi is at home.  She’s waiting for you and she wants to see you.”

“Yeah?”  He gives me a sad smile, tears in his eyes.

“Yeah my man.  Come on.  We gotta go.”  I pull on his arm again, and he scrambles unsteadily to the edge of the booth.  I help him stand, and he leans on me heavily, swaying on his feet.

The brunette witch grabs for Mammon.  “He’s staying.”

“Yeah, no.  He isn’t.”  I throw my hand up in the air and wave frantically for Beel.  He’s by our side in an instant, Asmo and Solomon close behind.

Asmo viciously shoulders his way through the witches, clearing a path long enough for Beel to snatch Mammon up into a fireman’s carry.  Solomon and I fan out to block the witches’ hands grabbing for them.  We push our way through the club goers and out onto the street.  Once we’re outside Beel doesn’t even break stride, making his way directly back to the House of Lamentation.

“Hey Asmo, did you and Arianthi go to the spa today?”  I manage to ask as we scurry to keep up with Beel.

He shakes his head in confusion.  “I’ve been with Solomon all day.”

Jesus H. Christ.  

“She said she was going to see if you wanted to spend time together today since Mammon dipped out on their date.”

“Again?”  Asmo scowls at Mammon’s limp body thrown over Beel’s shoulders.  He shakes his head and sighs.  “I haven’t even talked to her today.”

“Shit,” I mutter.  “I don’t think she’s at home.  And she’s not answering her D.D.D.”

“Not again.”  He sighs and briefly squeezes his eyes shut.

Solomon reaches out and takes Asmo’s hand in his, lifting it to his mouth and pressing a quick kiss to his palm.  “Let’s get Mammon home and make sure he’s safe, then we can work on finding Arianthi.”

Asmo and I nod in agreement.  “Ok,” we say in unison. 

We creep into the House of Lamentation and silently make our way up to Mammon and Arianthi’s bedroom.  Beel gently lowers Mammon on to the mattress and we step back, not sure what to do next.

Mammon stretches out an arm, his hand running restlessly over the sheets, searching for something.  

“Arianthi?”  He whines softly.  “I need you.”

The four of us exchange a worried look, then Asmo sits down next to him and gently takes his hand.  “She’s not here right now Mammon,” he says softly.

Mammon glares at me in betrayal, tears slipping down his cheeks.  “You said she’d be here.  That she wanted to see me.”

“She does!”  I promise, praying I’m not making a huge mistake.  “I know she does.  And we’ll find her, I swear.  Ok?”

Mammon just cries harder, curling in on himself.  “I want my baby back,” he mumbles. 

Beel sits down on the other side of the mattress and soothingly rubs his older brother’s back.  “We’ll find Arianthi, Mammon.  I promise.” 

Mammon violently shakes his head.  “No Beel.  I want my baby back.”

Beel looks like his heart is breaking.  “I’ll get Arianthi here as soon as I can.”

Mammon sit up suddenly, throwing off Beel’s and Asmo’s hands.  “NO!”  He shouts.  “I want my baby back.”  

He cradles his arms in front of his chest, mimicking rocking an infant to sleep.  We all stare at him as he swallows hard and shudders, before more tears fall.  

Asmo throws his arms around Mammon, rubbing his shoulders and murmuring soft words of comfort, while Beel, Solomon, and I huddle by the doorway.

“Do you think that’s what’s been going on?” Solomon finally whispers.  

“What?  That Arianthi was pregnant?”  I hiss, motioning for Beel and Solomon to follow me out of the room.

“It makes sense, doesn’t it?”  Solomon asks once we’re out in the hallway.

I shrug, worried and anxious to find my friend.  “He’s been with Arianthi as long as I’ve known him.  Any chance he could be talking about someone else?”

Beel and Solomon shake their head at the same time.  “No.”

“I would have known,” Beel says.  “Maybe not right away, but if this happened years ago, yeah.  I would know by now.”

Solomon and I look at each other, sharing a moment of grief for our fellow human.

“So.  Arianthi was pregnant.”  Solomon’s statement hangs heavy between the three of us.

“Why didn’t she say anything?”  Beel asks mournfully.

Solomon looks at me, silently asking how I want to handle this.

I inhale deeply and take Beel’s hand.  “I don’t know how demon pregnancies work, but human pregnancies can be really fragile.  Something like a quarter of them end in a miscarriage.  A lot of women don’t make any announcements until they’re further along, just in case.”  I stop, choking up a little.  “People all handle loss differently.  It can lead to problems in a relationship.”

Solomon and Beel look at me strangely.  

“What?”  I give them both a slightly dirty look.  “My dad is a nurse.  He made sure I was well informed in all areas of sex ed.”

Solomon takes over.  “She probably wasn’t that far along Beel.  I bet they were just waiting for the perfect time to tell all of you.”

“And then......”  Beel tears up, unable to finish.  “Do you think that’s why they’ve quit talking?”

“Working off of what we’ve pieced together, I’d say that’s likely,” Solomon answers him.

The three of us jump slightly as Asmo slips out into the hallway with us.  He immediately moves into Solomon’s embrace.

“We need to find Arianthi.  Right now,” Asmo whispers.  “Mammon said,”  Asmo breaks off and clenches his jaw, fighting for composure.  “He said she was pregnant.  But the week that he went to the human realm with Lucifer....”

Solomon pushes Asmo’s head into his chest before Asmo can finish the sentence.  “We figured it out.  You don’t have to say it baby,” he murmurs, stoking Asmo’s hair.

Beel clenches his fists and mutters a string of curses.  I grab onto his hand, running my thumb over his knuckles.

Time for a plan.  Pull it together Captain America.  Save the day, kiss the boy.  

Semi-hysterical laughter bubbles up, worry for our friends starting to take over.  I throttle my laughter and take a deep breath to clear my head.

Get a fucking grip Jax.  Find your friend, make sure she’s ok.   

“I’m going to go find Arianthi,” I quietly tell the others.  “Beel, stay with Mammon.  Make sure he doesn’t leave.  Solomon, take care of Asmo.  Thanks for calling us and not Lucifer.”

Solomon and Asmo nod silently before moving down the hall to Asmo’s bedroom while Beel looks at me worriedly.  

“Hey, hey.”  I run the backs of my fingers over his jaw.  “I’ve got this.  You take care of your brother.  I’ll find Arianthi.  It’s going to be ok.”

Beel shakes his head stubbornly.  “I can go get Levi and Satan to help.  You don’t have to do this.”

I roll my eyes.  “Yeah I do.  Arianthi has helped me, so now I’m helping her.  Plus, I’m hoping if I help you with this I’ll get a thank you kiss later.”  I smirk at him and boop his nose.

Beel chuckles and catches the tip of my finger between his teeth, biting gently.  “I think we can work something out.”

I rise on my tiptoes and kiss his cheek softly.  “I’m holding you to that.  I’ll be back soon.”

I wait until Beel has shut Mammon’s bedroom door behind him, then whip out my D.D.D. and dial Arianthi.  When she doesn’t pick up the first time I call again.  And again.  And again.  On my fifth time calling someone picks up.

“Hello?”

The voice is male and very familiar.  

“Is this Arianthi’s D.D.D.?”  I ask,  momentarily wondering if I’ve called the wrong person.

“It is.”

I know this voice.  It’s not any of the brothers.  Definitely not Solomon.  Who is this guy?

“Then can I talk to her?”  I can feel myself getting snappy, anxiety and irritation warring for the spot of top emotion.

“She’s unavailable at the moment.  Would you like me to take a message?”

Irritation winds by a landslide.

“No, I want you to give my friend her phone so I can talk to her.  There’s an emergency and her fiance needs her.”

“I wasn’t aware she was still engaged.”

Holy.  Fuck.

“Diavolo?”  I ask in shock.  “Is she with you?  Where is she?”

“She’s asleep.  I’ll tell her you called once she wakes up.”

“Like hell!  Give her the phone!”  

The line goes dead.  

I throw my D.D.D. against the wall and it explodes in a shower of plastic.  “What a dick!”

Belphie’s head pops out of the next bedroom over.  “Wanna keep it down human?”  He asks, good and pissed off.

I scowl at him.  “Dude, I’ve seen you sleep through worse.”  

I turn and start marching down the hall, intent on getting my friend and bringing her home.

“Whoa!  What’s got your panties in a bunch?”  Belphie snickers and leans again the doorjamb.

“Arianthi is with Diavolo and he wouldn’t let me talk to her when I called.  Mammon needs her.”  

“What a dick.”  Belphie’s face transforms into a mask of anger.

“Seriously,” I mutter in agreement.

Belphie pushes off of the wall and shuffles down the hall to stand by me.  “Let’s go then.”

“Go where?”  I ask in surprise.

“You’re gonna go get her right?”  Belphie looks at me like I’m slow.  “I’m going with you.  And on the way there you’re going to explain exactly what’s going on.”

15 minutes later I’ve brought Belphie up to date and we’re standing outside the Demon Lord’s castle.  

“Fuck,” Belphie mutters, banging on the door.  “I don’t like this.  At all.”

Belphegor, Avatar of Sloth, Seventh Lord of the Devildom, Master of the Understatement.

Barbatos answers the door, gazing at us quizzically.  “It’s a little late for a visit.”

Belphie muscles his way past Barbatos, dragging me behind him.  “We’re here to get Arianthi.  We’ll be out of your way in a minute.”  

“Where are we going?”  I ask, hustling to keep up and tune out Barbatos’s objections

“Diavolo’s study.  If they’ve been working that’s where they’ll be,” Belphie answers, not even bothering to look back at me.

“What if they aren’t there?”

“Then we keep looking until we find them,” he answers, pushing open a door and walking though, giving me no choice but to follow.

Diavolo looks up from behind his desk, annoyance and surprise flitting across his face.

“Can I help you two?”  He asks, fighting to keep his tone level.  

“Just looking for Arianthi,” Belphie replies flippantly.  “We got a little worried when you wouldn’t let Jax talk to her.”

Diavolo rolls his eyes and waves his hand towards a couch next to the fireplace.  “She’s asleep.  I didn’t want to wake her.  I know she hasn’t been getting much rest lately.”

I looks towards the couch.  Arianthi is curled up on her side, a file under her head and another gripped in her hand, Diavolo’s coat spread out over her like a blanket.

“She hasn’t been resting much because she’s been busy working with you,” Belphie hisses.

Diavolo shrugs.  “If she would rather spend her time working with me than at the House of Lamentation, then who am I to stop her?”

“Did you know what happened?”  Belphie’s voice has gone low with rage.

I keep one ear on their conversation and slink over to the couch.  I kneel down next to it and start shaking Arianthi’s arm. 

“Jax?”  She blinks at me sleepily.

“Who do you think took her to the hospital Belphegor?  Your brother?”  Diavolo chuckles darkly.  “No, because he weaseled his way onto the trip with Lucifer so he could gamble.”

“Shut up,” Belphie snarls.

“She tried to call him.  Multiple times.  But he had his phone shut off, because focusing at the casino was more important that making sure his pregnant fiancee could reach him.”  Diavolo is taunting Belphie now.

“Piss off Diavolo.”  Belphie’s voice is thunderous.

Diavolo studies him nonchalantly.  “Your brother should have been there; be angry with him, not with me.”

Belphie stares back at him, aghast.  “Have you been filling her head with that shit?  Is that why she hasn’t been at home?”

“She already thinks it.  I haven’t had to do a thing except take care of her.”  Diavolo smirks.  “Just like I always have.”

I don’t know what that noise Belphie just made was but I don’t think it’s going to lead to anything good.  Time to go.  

“Arianthi, you need to wake up,” I rub her shoulder, urging her to sit upright.  “We need to go hun.” 

“Why is Belphie here?”  She mumbles, pushing her hair out of her face.

“He came with me.  We need to get home ok?  Right now.”  I’m speaking urgently, hoping it’s penetrating through the haze of sleep.

“Ok,” she nods, letting me help her stand up.

Belphie looks over his shoulder at us.  “Ready to go?”

“Yeah.”  Arianthi yawns.  “You guys could have just called.  You didn’t have to come get me.”  She gives us a soft smile.

“Jax did call,” Belphie says, narrowing his eyes at Diavolo.

“Diavolo answered.  He wouldn’t wake you up so I could talk to you,” I volunteer helpfully, while he gives me a dirty look.

“Dia.”  Arianthi sounds hurt.

“You were finally sleeping well.  I just wanted you to get some rest princess.”  He sounds remorseful.

Belphie snorts in disgust.  “Sure, Jan.”

For a moment I beam with pride at his correct usage of the phrase, then I turn my focus back to Arianthi.  “We need to go.  Mammon’s home.”

For a second her face lights up, then she frowns, nibbling her lower lip and looking hesitant.

I take her hand in mine.  “Arianthi, he’s hurt and he needs you.”  I pause.  “He told us what happened.”

She blinks a few times, gritting her teeth and inhaling deeply.  “Let’s go home guys.”  

Diavolo makes a sound of protest as she walks towards the door of the study.  

She turns and fixes him with an impassive look.  “Mammon needs me,” she says simply, before she stalks out, leaving Belphie and I rushing to keep up.  

We start the walk back to the House of Lamentation quietly.  Arianthi finally breaks the silence.

“Now’s your chance to ask whatever questions you have.” 

I go first.  “Are you ok?”

She laughs mirthlessly.  “Physically, yes.  Everything else is currently up in the air.  Mammon and I aren’t handling it well, as you can obviously see.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”  Belphie’s voice is so soft I barely hear the question.

Arianthi looks over at him, her stoic mask slipping a little.  “We were going to tell you.  We were going to have a party after he got back from the human realm so we could make the announcement.”  Her voice breaks.  

“Do you still love Mammon?”  Belphie looks at her intently.

“More than anything.”

He nods once, resolute.  “Then you’ll get through this.  He’s a fucking idiot but he loves you too.”

She huffs out a little laugh, sniffling.  “Thanks Belphie.  And thanks for coming to get me Jax.”

I nudge her gently with my shoulder.  “Anytime.” 

“What happened to Mammon?”  She asks, leaning against me a little.

“Just a little scrape at the club.  But he needs you.”  I raise my eyebrows and look a her meaningfully.

“I need him too,” she says, so softly I barely hear her.

We sneak back into the House of Lamentation and creep quietly towards the bedrooms.  Belphie gives us a backwards wave as he goes into his bedroom and shuts the door firmly behind him.

I open the door for Arianthi and we slide into her bedroom, careful not to make too much noise in case Mammon has fallen asleep.  

Mammon is sitting on the edge of their bed, Beel next to him.  They lean against each other for support, their murmured conversation too low for me to hear.

They look up in tandem as we approach, Beel smiling with relief and Mammon looking uncertainly at Arianthi.  She doesn’t hesitate, moving onto the bed and pulling him into her arms.

“Hey baby,” she whispers, pressing kisses into his hair.  Mammon’s arms wrap around her and he shakes with silent sobs.

Beel touches my shoulder and nods towards the door.  I follow him into the hallway and we leave Arianthi and Mammon in peace.

“How is he?”  I ask once we’re alone.  

Beel looks at me sadly.  “He misses her.  He feels guilty.  He’s angry.”

Impulsively I give Beel a tight hug.  “They’re going to be ok.”

Beel’s deep sigh rumbles in his chest. 

“They will be,” I promise.  “I have a good feeling about them.”   

He kisses my forehead gently.  “I do too.”

I tip my head back, looking into his eyes.  He leans down towards me, moving in for a kiss.

MMRRRGGHHH.

Beel flushes pink and pulls back.

“Was that your stomach?”  I ask in shock.

“Sorry,” he mutters shyly.

I pull him closer.  “Let’s go get you something to eat big guy,” I murmur against his lips, before kissing him softly.  

“Really?”  He looks at me in delight.

I tug on his hand and start walking towards the kitchen.  “Come on.  I’ll cook something for you.”

I’m pulled to a stop as Beel wraps his arms around me and hugs me tightly from behind.  “Thanks for everything you did tonight baby.”

I melt a little inside at his use of the pet name.  “You’re welcome Beel.”  

I feel the vibrations of his stomach rumbling against my back.  We break apart, giggling softly.  He takes my hand, lacing his fingers with mine, and leads me to the kitchen. 

“So, what are you going to make?” Beel asks, violet eyes shining with excitement.  

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Playing With Fire ~ Part 6

Pairing: Michael Gray x Pregnant!Reader

Warnings: Typical Peaky Blinders violence, mention of rape

A/N: So this chapter is mostly canon events from Season 3 Episode 6. I don’t own any of the actual dialogue from the series, just what I wrote myself. I just put it in to show Michael’s side of everything since this is set in season 3. Also, Michael was still kinda soft in season 3 so don’t come at me for him having problems killing people. ANYWAYS, I’m sorry about this literally being mostly what y’all have already watched in the episode but it be like that sometimes and the action is gonna start kicking up more in the future (hopefully)! Thank you all! 

____________________________________________________

“Armored cars, Tommy? Who’s going to buy a bunch of stolen armored cars?” Arthur asked, the rain pouring around the group of men. 

“A foolish man who’s willing to pay a lot of money. 150 thousand pounds in cash, sapphires, and diamonds. Charlie, you get twenty and Isaiah gets five. The rest is being invested in America until we can get the money clean.” Tommy explained. 

Michael listened intently, to his plan, careful to catch every detail. 

“And I suppose that after all this the business will be hangin’ like that stag o’er there.” Arthur stated, not wanting to be involved in this. 

“I know you made a promise to Linda, Arthur. I know you want out. This job is to set you all up for when you want to leave. Arthur, I know you have Linda and Michael, you’ve got Y/N. You’ve both got kids on the way. This way you’ll both have some money to support your families.” Tommy nodded towards Michael who stood with eyes wide at what he’d just heard. 

Michael swore he’d protect and support you and this way he’d have at least a safety net for your family, especially if shit hit the fan with the business. 

“Now,” Tommy took the cigarette from his lips and crushed it on the ground, “Let’s get back to business.” 

Michael came back to the shop to you sitting there running over the books and double checking for errors. It was late and it was just you two. “Y/N, can I talk to you for a second?” He asked, hanging his coat on the hook in his office. 

You looked up from his chair that you sat in behind his desk while he was away, “Yeah, Michael. What’s wrong?” You set the pen down as Michael sat across from you and lit a cigarette. 

“Do you want to leave?” He asked, taking a deep drag. 

“What?” His question took you off guard. 

Michael slowed his words, “Do you want to leave? Leave Small Heath, Birmingham, the business? I don’t know just... do you like our life?” It was clear to see that he was stressed. He had dark circles under his blue eyes and his sandy hair was messy. 

“I don’t like worrying about you all the time,” You answered honestly but choosing your words wisely, “I don’t like the business that we’re in but I know that you stick with the legal side of things so I’m okay with it. But I also understand that this is your family is here. My family is here too. Small Heath isn’t my dream but I don’t mind staying for now.” Even after you finished speaking, he only stared at the wooden desk, lost in thought. 

You reached your hand across the table and gently grasped his, “Michael, love, what’s wrong?” 

He sighed before crushing his cigarette in the ashtray, “Tommy’s given me a way out. There’s a job coming up that can set us up enough to get to wherever we want to run away to. It’ll take a little while, at least a few months for the money to get clean but we when it is, we can leave. Hell, we could go to America if you wanted to.” 

Michael had given you many sleepless nights, especially lately. You were well aware of the dealings with the Russians and you’d had an inclination Michael was beginning to become involved in the more illegal side of things, even if he hadn’t told you outright. Every night that he was home late, you couldn’t stop that voice in your head that whispered all the horrible things that may have happened to him. 

And yet, you weren’t sure why you didn’t jump at the chance to get him out. Perhaps it was a strange feeling that his work wasn’t done in Small Heath and that, even if you left, trouble would follow you, even across the ocean. 

“Has something happened?” You inquired, squeezing his hand, “Michael, I know something’s been up.” 

Michael shook his head, not in disagreement but from not wanting to tell you and you knew it. “There’s something going on. I want to tell you, I swear I do but I’m scared it’ll put you in danger.”

He was scared. It wasn’t often that Michael admitted that he was hesitant about being involved with the Peaky Blinders but it was written all over his face and it broke your heart. You stood up from the desk and walked around to hug him. He wrapped his arms around your midsection and buried his face in your chest. You raked your fingers through his hair and he inhaled your comforting scent, trying to calm his racing heart. 

Beneath his chest, he could feel a squirming below the skin of your stomach and he leaned back, placing his hands on your belly to feel your son move. Feeling you and your baby, Michael felt grounded and clear headed. He knew that this job was something he had to do and that he had a responsibility to keep your child out of harm’s way. 

You ran your hands gently from his hair down to the side of his face, pulling him in for a deep kiss, “Michael, I trust you with my life. I trust you to make the right decision for our family. But I need you to also make the right decision for yourself. Don’t put yourself in danger for money because we can make it without you killing yourself over a few pounds.” 

If only it were simply a few pounds, Michael groaned to himself. 

He took a deep breath and then looked up at you, “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.” His large hands slid from your stomach down to reach for your coat as he stood up. “But for now, let’s get home.” 

“Where are we going Tommy?” Michael asked from the passenger seat of Thomas’s car. He’d just been told to get in and was handed a gun once he sat down. 

Without looking away from the road, Tommy answered, “We’re meeting Alfie Solomons. He came to appraise the jewels the Russians promised and he’s agreed to give me the list of men who’d be interested in buying a faberge egg we acquired from the Russians. I need you to stand guard. Stay hidden unless things go south, in which case, use that.” He nodded to the gun in Michael’s hands without taking his eyes off the road. 

The metal object weighed heavy in his hands, heavier than one ever had before. Arthur and John had shown him how to shoot a gun but that was just at glass bottles in the field. The thought that now he might have to actually shoot someone - kill someone -  made him feel nauseous. 

Michael had never been under any impression that being a Blinder was safe work but the fact that he was actually doing a more dangerous job where there was a large chance he could be killed or injured or inflict either of those on another person was weighing on him. He couldn’t let Tommy know though. 

Michael matched Tommy’s stoic expression and looked out the window at the passing scenery. Jaw clenching, he did everything possible to calm his nerves. He had to do what was necessary to protect him and Tommy. Images of you flashed in his mind, six and a half months pregnant, a warm smile on your face as you dropped off lunch for him at the office. He knew he had to come back to you. He couldn’t leave you alone, especially now that you were a member of the family, which definitely had its dangers. 

He would do whatever it took to come back home to you. 

Tommy stood inside the warehouse talking to Alfie while Michael stood hidden behind a wall. Alfie had already broken the deal having shown up with another man and it had Michael on edge. He watched the men exchange the paper with the names and the money and then saw as Tommy turned and looked over the paper. 

Without a word, Thomas turned and drew his gun at the Jewish man who in turn had his guard pull a gun on Tommy. Michael’s heart leapt into his throat as he argued with himself, trying to determine if this was the time to jump out guns blazing but despite the firearms being pointed, he noticed the situation was still relatively calm so he stayed still. 

“You left a name off the list, Alfie.” Tommy was calm and steady. 

Alfie matched his stare, “Did I now?”

Tommy nodded, “I’ve already spoken to my people in the jewelry quarter, experienced dealers. They told me there’s only three men in Britain whose wives are obsessed with faberge, makes ‘em good customers. You left the richest one off the list.” 

“Yeah, well, if you knew already ‘ow come you dragged me all the way out into the fucking oggin, mate?” Alfie did have a point. Michael was curious to know too. He cocked his gun as quietly as he could and held it ready next to his face, ready to step out at any moment. 

“Two reasons,” Tommy began, “Reason one, by withholding a name that you most certainly know, you’ve proven to me that you’ve done a deal with the Odd Fellows. It was you who told them about the tunnel. You who told them about the fucking deal with the Soviets. Reason two, the name of the man you’ve been withholding must be my enemy otherwise you wouldn’t be protecting him. He is now a man I can use.” 

“Listen, sweetie,” Michael cringed at Alfie’s words, knowing that he was playing a dangerous game here, “You can’t take a man-”

Tommy interrupted, “You gave him information in exchange for a share.”

“There were things in that treasury that God spoke to me! He said ‘Alfie, you’re meant to have these things!’” 

“You crossed the line, Alfie.” Tommy pointed his gun harshly at him. 

Oh shit, things were going to go down. 

“The fucking what?” 

“The line!” 

“What?” 

“THEY’RE USING MY BOY!” Tommy had tears in his eyes and Michael couldn’t imagine being on the other end of that gun. “Did you know?” 

Alfie shrugged, “Yeah, I knew but damned as I am it made no fucking difference to me, mate!” 

Micheal knew he was dead then and there. 

To nobody’s surprise, Tommy jumped forward onto Alfie, knocking him to the floor and kneeling on his body as he choked him. The guard leaned down and grabbed him but the neck, yanking him up. Michael saw him reach for the gun as he held Tommy there and, before he could think, rushed out from behind the wall and pulled the trigger. 

The time it took him to pull the trigger felt like an eternity and a millisecond, the decision made the second his finger tightened but the bang ringing in his ears long after he fired. Blood splattered everywhere as the man fell, covering Michael and Tommy. His body crashed on top of his boss, who pulled his gun out as well. 

“What the fuck is going on?” Alfie sounded betrayed as he stood up. Michael kept his head lowered behind the brim of his hat, trying his best to hide the fact that he was going to be sick and doing a pretty damn good job of it.

Tommy shoved the corpse off of him and stood, immediately drawing his weapon at Alfie again. The men began yelling at each other and Michael saw another death happening if he didn’t step in and this was a death that had many more consequences. He stepped between the two men, pushing Tommy back by the collar. “Tommy, I know this bastard deserves it!” 

One of Tommy’s hands found Michael’s face as he tried to shove him away but he moved around, “I know he fucking deserves it! But if you kill him now, the truce with the London outfits will be blown to pieces!” 

“Don’t worry about that fucking treaty boy. It’s blown to fuckin’ peices.” Alfie waved his hand. 

“Who’s side are you on?!” Michael was furious and confused. He was risking his life for this bullshit, Tommy’s kid was on the line, there was so fucking much on the line and nothing was making sense. 

Alfie stepped towards Tommy, “So they’ve got your boy! What fucking line am I supposed to have crossed? Hm? What fucking line?! Besides, how many fathers, how many sons have you cut, killed, murdered, fucking butchered, innocent and guilty, to straight to fucking hell, ain’t ya? If you pull that trigger there, you pull it for a fucking honorable reason. You pull it like an honorable man, not like a fucking civilian that does not understand the ways of out wicked world.” 

Michael watched this exchange go down, the most straight, intimidating face he could muster, but millions of thoughts ran through his mind. He stood beside Tommy who had the blood of a man Micheal had killed across his face but treated it as if it were nothing new to him. Because it wasn’t. 

“Look Tommy,” Michael pleaded, “The killing of Alfie Solomons isn’t going to help. It’ll be very bad for business.” 

Later that night, you were cooking dinner and staring at the clock wondering where on earth your husband could be. It had to be almost ten o’clock. Despite how much you told yourself that everything was fine, that this wasn’t the first time he came home late, it always worried you. 

You couldn’t help the thoughts of all the bad things that could have happened to him. The images of him bleeding out from stab wounds in the street or tied to a chair in some dark basement by a rival gang always had you terrified. Maybe he got arrested? Oh gosh, who knew what he did to get arrested or what Tommy did near him that got them both arrested. Maybe they were in the gallows? 

Thankfully, the sound of keys jingling in the door made that knot of worry in your chest dissipate. The door swung open and then shut with a crash. “Hey, love, you’re home late!” You commented with a teasing note. 

Without a word, Michael hung his hat onto a rack and walked into the kitchen. He didn’t say anything, he just stood there and his silence made you uneasy. Usually there was a ‘smells good!’ or at least an ‘I love you!’ but tonight there was nothing. 

You turned from the pots on the stove, “Michael what’s wrong?” He was pale and his eyes looked sunken in. Something was very wrong. You walked up close to him but when you got close, you noticed the crimson specks on his shirt, the ones he thought were covered by his jacket. Once you saw them though, you grabbed his jacket and unbuttoned it, inspecting his stained shirt, “Is this blood?” You asked, worry in your eyes. 

Michael didn’t say anything. He just stared zoned out. “Just tell me it isn’t yours.” All you needed to know was that he wasn’t hurt. 

“I killed someone.” It was almost so quiet that you didn’t hear it but the tears that began to silently spill over his cheeks told you that you that you heard right. 

“What?” It was all you could manage. 

He sniffled and held your shoulders, “I killed someone.” He admitted it louder this time, “I stood there and I held the gun to his head and I shot him and - and he’s fucking dead now.” 

You had no idea how to respond. He collapsed into your embrace and began to shake. “Did something happen at the shop?” 

Michael shook his head against your shoulder before standing and composing himself, “Tommy just told me to get in the car. Said we had business and threw me a gun. He said to shoot if things went wrong and well… things went wrong.” 

“I thought you were just supposed to be dealing with the finances!” You couldn’t help the tears that had begun to stream down your face as well. You were so scared for him. 

He shook his head, “I do. I swear. But-” he felt like he had to tell you, “There’s business right now that I need to do more than just finances in-” 

“Michael-” You tried interrupting even though you didn’t even know what to say. This was so much more than just a job change. He killed somebody. 

“I didn’t want to be apart of this side of everything but there’s a man that’s working against Tommy right now.” Michael couldn’t believe he was about to confess this to you. He’d never confessed it to anyone but Tommy. “When I was in the orphanage after they took me and my sister from me mum, he used to do stuff to me. He did it to all of us. He’s hurt so many kids but he will never hurt anyone again. Not when I’m through with him.” 

This was unlike anything you’d ever seen from your husband. He was vulnerable and terrified and angry and as much as you wanted to help him, you couldn’t deny that this implication that he was going to kill a man was scaring you. 

He began to shake again as he stared off, leaning back, “I can’t get the image out of my head. He was covered in blood but it didn’t even bother him.” 

“What are you talking about?” You were confused now. 

“Tommy,” He sighed, “The man had attacked him and I shot him in the head and his blood… it went fucking everywhere. The body fell on him and he had shards of his fucking brain on his face and it was nothing! And then Alfie just talked about how he just kills and tortures people, innocent or guilty and I just… I don’t want to be like him.” 

The image that Michael was painting in your mind had you feeling queasy. The Michael you knew didn’t kill people. You knew the boy who grew up on a farm and was wickedly intelligent and who loved you and wanted to protect you. But this was the Michael you knew. This Michael was still terrified of what he did. He hated it. 

“You don’t have to be.” You whispered, resting your hand gently on his face. 

Michael swallowed hard, looking down, “They’re going to have the priest killed anyways. I’m going to be the one who pulls the trigger. But I will not become Tommy.” 

As much as you wanted to hate him for his decision, you understood. How couldn’t you? This priest was a horrible man. A man who molested and raped vulnerable children in an orphanage who’d already lost so much. On top of that, he was working with people in the likes of your new family which didn’t say much for his reputation in other circles. How could you look your husband in the eye, a victim of this disgusting monster, and feel your child within you, a possible victim if anything happened that landed them in an orphanage, and not understand why Michael felt the need to do what he was going to do. 

    You couldn't believe that you were agreeing this, but you leaned forward and tightly grasped both of his hands and met his gaze, "If you need to, do it."

Taglist: 

@bat-shark-repellant

@awwhhsnapple

@gracethegeek9902​

(I’m really sorry if I forgot anyone. I feel like I lost a username somewhere so let me know if I did!) 

[psycheswritings]

Nothing’s Fair in Love and War - Two

Title: Nothing’s Fair in Love and War

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Original Female Character (Daphne Scott)

Warnings: Swearing and mentions of violence (not too much, tough)

Word Count: 4245

Author's Note: Happy New Year, everyone. Here's another part of Daphne and Thomas story. Hope you all like it. I want to thank everyone who liked/commented on the previous part, it makes me very happy to know that you are enjoying it. I will try to uptade it every tuesday/wednesday.

A special thanks to @livvtheangel​ for the lovely feedback, it made me really happy.

As always, this haven’t been proofread, so feel free to report any mistakes back to me; warnings are expecific for each chapter. Also, your feedback is also highly appreciated.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Tommy tries to discover more about Daphne while making the necessary arrangements for his deal with Solomons. In the meanwhile, Daphne meets some old friends that try to ease her worries about Alfie hiding things from her and starts to question her feelings towards the Brummie ganster.

Two

“What did you discovered?” Tommy asked to John when he entered the private room of the Garrison.

“Not much.” Arthur was right behind him, closing the door. They both took his sits before John started talking. “Her name is Daphne Jane Scott, she was born in London, same year as me, appeared in Camden Town with Solomons after the war. She lives with him since them, always worked at the bakery, they are usually together in social events but despite the rumors about them people in Camden Town seem to believe that they have a brother-sister relationship.” Tommy exhaled a puff of air and smoke seemed uninterested, even when he was the one who requested his brothers to do some research in Daphne’s past.

“Some people believe that she serve in France.” Arthur said catching Thomas attention.

“Can we try to locate her file?” John and Arthur shared a look, before the first spoke.

“We can try, but if Solomons is really that invested in her I believe that it won’t be easy.”

“Do it, anyways. It doesn’t matter if it takes some time.”

“Tommy, why are you so interested in this girl?” Arthur asked, toking a sip of his whisky. “I mean, she is beautiful and all but you could have any other woman.” Thomas didn’t answer right away because even he was not sure why he was interested in the woman. After the whole ordeal with Grace, he should want to avoid mysterious woman but Daphne had something that he couldn’t explain.

“There’s something about her...” He got up, putting his jacket before speaking. “Find the file and bring it to me.” After he left, Arthur and John looked at each other, intrigued by his behavior.

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“You are worried.” His voice startled Daphne out of her thoughts and she raised her eyes to look at the man in question. From her spot at the door, she could observe him working – William was still with his scrub, organizing a few things in his office on a secluded area of the hospital, it was more modest than what you would expect of the eldest son of one of the most influential families in London.

He was a beautiful man – tall, lean but strong, a beard well-kept adorning his face, brown curly hair a little unruly and a pair of deep blue eyes that made all the women gasp at the sight of him – but what really got Daphne every time was his kindness. For a man born in one of the richest families in London, William was more down to earth than anybody could expect. Despite their bickering when they first met each other, the pair developed a strong friendship along the years. He was one of the few people that really knew her and her history.

“It’s nothing.” William laughed at that while closing the cabinet of medications right behind his desk.

“Nothing? That’s why you didn’t paid attention to anything I’ve said since you arrived here? I just said to you that Jane is going to marry and you said that it was a shame!” He looked at her with a half-smile and she couldn’t hold her own smile back, shaking her head in the process.

“I’m sorry. It’s just business, it will be over soon.” At least that was what she hoped, even when deep down Daphne had a feeling that things wouldn’t be so simple anymore. “Jane finally decided to end Charles misery, huh?” William sighed at that, stopping to take off his scrubs and replace it with his coat.

“In my opinion they are rushing into things but Charles received a proposal to go to America. I think that forced her to make her decision. Couldn’t think about all the American women swooning all over her fiancé.” Daphne smiled at her friend’s attitude because she knew that his constant bickering about the engagement of his sister and his best friend was just his way of showing older brother protectiveness. It always made her feel bittersweet, even more when she got to see the both Weston siblings together.

“Rush into things? They have been together for what, four years?”

“Yeah, more or less.”

“You’re just worried that you’ll lose you little sister.” He held one hand to his heart faking a gasp.

“Now you wound me, Daphne Scott.” The young doctor walked to her, stopping right in front of the woman. “And you’re trying to redirect. Don’t go thinking that I forgot your stupid little excuse for why you’re so worried.” Daphne sighed. She should know better than to try hiding things from him.

“Come on. Let’s eat something and I will tell you what I can.” He smiled, seeming satisfied with her answer, closing the door behind them and offering his arm to her and the pair left the hospital towards one of the cafes near the area. They talked a little on the way there, little things about Jane and his family, and Daphne had some hope that he would forget about his inquiry at the office. She should have known better.

“Ok, now you tell me what’s bothering you so much. Alfie didn’t listened to you again, huh?” He looked at her from behind his cup of tea while taking a sip.

“When does he?” She answered, rolling her eyes much to William’s delight.

“Well, knowing him I’m pretty sure that he listens to you a lot more than any other person.” Daphne took a deep breath, looking at the people talking and laughing around them. She knew that it was true, Alfie did listened to her most part of the time, but sometimes he frustrated her to no ends with his stubbornness.

“He’s playing something that I’m not sure if he will be able to handle.”

“That bad?” There was a hint of concern in his question. William and Alfie had created some strange type of friendship over the years, most part for her sake, but the both of them always asked about one another.

“That’s the problem: I don’t know. He’s been keeping things from me, he thinks I didn’t notice but I did.” They stayed in silence while the waiter came to the table with their food.

“It will do you no good overthink about it. You will have to wait and see what happens.” She knew that he was right, but her mind never seemed to listen to her.

“I just hope that this doesn’t blow out on our faces.”

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“Next lad.” A man enters the office and stops right in front of Alfie’s desk. “Name?”

“Abbey Heath.”

“Abbey Heath. Profession?”

“Baker.”

“Good lad. Fill it out and fuck off.” The Jew gives the man a folded paper while Ollie throws an apron at him before he leaves. The scene repeats itself without many changes until one of them caught Alfie’s attention.

“Next lad. Name?”

“Billy Kitchen.”

“Billy Kitchen. Occupation?”

“Head baker.” The way he says it makes Alfie take his eyes off of the papers to look at him. The man has an air of defiance, holding his head high.

“Fill it out.” The gangster said with a forced half smile, throwing the paper on the desk for the man to take, Ollie gave him the apron on his way out. They observed the man leave and Ollie took a step towards his boss while Alfie talked to him and moved his glasses. “Ah, Tommy Shelby, mate. Never give power to the big man, what did I tell you? Hmm? Never give power to the big man. Did Daphne came back already?”

“No, she’s not back yet.” Alfie scratched his beard in thinking; maybe it was better if she did not came back in time.

“Hmm. Next lad.”

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“Tommy. Good to see you, mate.” The two man shook hands and Tommy noticed right away the lack of the feminine presence in the distillery.

“Alfie. What do you think?” They observed the men being organized in the bigger room by Billy Kitchen.

“Don’t know yet, man. Let’s give them the instructions, yeah.” They both entered the precinct, Alfie stood closer to the wall, arms crossed in front of him. It was a good place to observe how Tommy worked and it gave him a menacing vibe that could come handy. Tommy started pacing in front of the men while he lit a cigarette and started explaining how things would work.

“All right boys, you've now all been enrolled as bakers in the Aerated Bread Company of Camden Town. If anyone asks, that's what you do. You're bakers. The coppers in Camden Town are on our side but north or south, you show them that piece of paper. Tell them you've come down from north to find work. To break strikes. Tell them you're fascists if you have to. We're finding lodgings for you but for now, you'll sleep here in the bakery. Don't touch any of the bread, it'll most likely explode. Any questions?” One of the man raised his hand. “Yes?”

“I haven't even seen any bread.” He says looking around and laughing with the other men. Tommy looks at Alfie, clearing his throat and continuing to smoke his cigarette. Seconds pass before Alfie approaches the man that made the joke, Buddy. He just stares at him for a couple of seconds before striking the man standing beside with his cane before looking at Buddy again, cane still in hand. Silence filled the room.

“He'll wake up. Well, he won't have any teeth left but he will be a wiser man for it.” Tommy and Ollie were behind him, none of them seemed surprised by the attitude. “And the last thing he will remember is your funny little joke, won't he?” Alfie paused before shouting in the man’s face and start walking. “RIGHT! There are fucking rules here, yeah? Yeah. There are fucking rules, for a fucking reason. Quite simply, they have to be obeyed. All right? Rule number one: the distinction between bread and rum... IT'S NOT DISCUSSED. Rule number two: anything, right, that your superior officer says to you or any of your other fucking superior officers say to you, yeah? NOT DISCUSSED! Rule number three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine... I don't care. For the rest of your fucking miserable, measly lives, yeah? Because I, like you, I am also a complete fucking sodomite.” In that moment, Daphne appeared at the entrance of the room, the men started to look at each other, not having the courage to talk but all intrigued by the woman. Alfie turned to look at her. Damn, the woman always seemed to arrive exactly on the time he needed her to. He recognized the question in her eyes but just ignored it because he knew she would play along. “Jewish women.” He said in a lower tone. “You do not go anywhere near them because Jewish women for you are off the fucking menu. I think that's fair.” He stopped talking and looked at Billy who was right in front of him for a minute. The self-titled ‘head-backer’ held his gaze for a moment before looking away. Alfie then turned to look at the man on the ground before looking at Tommy. “Hm... Oh, that's it then. Forgive me, I interrupted you.” The Jew walked away and stopped right beside Daphne. None of the men, besides Billy Kitchen, dared to look at them.

“Pick him up.” Tommy said motioning the man still unconscious on the ground, walking towards Billy Kitchen, talking to him in a whisper. “Get them out of here and make this fucking work.” They observed the man leave and Tommy took the opportunity to look at Daphne. She was dressed similarly as the day she appeared at the Garrison – a simple blue dress that ended a little bellow her knees, fitted at her waist but loose on the skirt, the neckline was a little open, showing the locket that she always seemed to be with – she caught his eye and smiled at him before Alfie directed them to his office, dismissing Ollie.

“How’s William?” That was the first thing Alfie asked when they entered his office. She raised her brows in question while Thomas closed the door.

“He’s fine. Send you his regards and asked to schedule dinner, said it has been a while.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s been a while.” He looked at Tommy, who stood beside Daphne, seemingly uninterested in the conversation, looking at the ground, and smiled. “Right, let’s talk business.”

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Ada was sitting in the living room when she heard the noise of the front door closing. Immediately she got up and took the gun from her purse, pointing it at the door right in the moment it opened. She was more than surprised to see Tommy entering with his peaky hat in hand. He laughed when he saw the gun in her hands, before closing the door behind him.

“You've got a key!”

“I kept a spare.” He shrugged.

“Give it to me.” Tommy smiled, throwing the key in the air and catching it while he walked towards his sister. Ada took the key from him and put it away at the same time that Tommy looked around before sitting in the spare seat.

“Could do with some paint, eh?”

“Yeah, when I decide.” She observes her brother picking a book from the pile on the ground, taking a look at it and putting it back down, before sitting back in her own chair, arms crossed in front of her, sighing. “What is it that you want, Tommy?”

“Just came by to say hello.”

“Huh. Tommy Shelby never goes anywhere for no reason.” He sighs, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Right. Daphne. Where did you met her?” Ada laughs, rolling her eyes and shaking her head.

“What does it concern you?”

“I need to know more about her.” He simply said. It was true. Maybe not the whole truth, but true, anyways.

“To what? Fuck her and then leave her? She deserves better than that.” She knew she was pressing him but Ada needed to know his intentions towards the woman.

“She works for Solomons.” Tommy noticed that his sisters didn’t seemed surprised. He hoped to use Daphne’s connection to Alfie as an ace to make Ada talk but by her expression, she already knew that.

“I know.”

“Then tell me what you know about her.” The siblings stared at each other for a minute before Tommy pressed again. “I swear it’s for business.”

“I don’t know much, she is pretty reserved. We met in a café downtown. She comes from a wealthy family from the countryside, has medical training as a nurse, is well educated and works with Solomons as his treasurer.”

“Medical training?” The gangster looked at his sister, frowning.

“Yeah. Don’t know much more. She is almost worse than you when it comes to personal information. But she is a good woman.” Tommy wasn’t sure if Ada said that as a way to make him more interested in Daphne or as a warning that she didn’t deserved to be ruined by him. Probably both. “But there’s something more. You didn’t came all the way here just to ask about Daph, you could have learned a lot more about her in other ways. What is it?” It didn’t go unnoticed by him the use of a nickname, that could only mean that Daphne and his sister where more close than he predicted.

“I've got eight hundred pounds left in the Shelby Property fund. And I need somebody down here to look for suitable properties.”

“To rent?”

“Yes.”

“To poor people.” Tommy looks at her. “Ten to a room. No repairs, no water. And if they complain you just send Arthur and the boys around.” He looks around taking a deep breath. “You know, I give advice down at the library. Families, thrown on the street. It's men like you we're fighting.”

“Well, anyway, I was just passing.” He gets up and starts walking to the door. “Thanks for the tea.” Ada calls him before she can contain herself.

“Tommy?” He stops and turns to look at her. “There are always men outside, watching the house.”

“Yeah. Gangsters of the worst kind.” He mocks. “They're there to keep you safe.”

“No, there are others. They looks like coppers.”

“Well, they're on your side as well.”

“I don't have a fucking side.” Ada says annoyed.

“Ada, yes, you do. Anyway, if I thought there was no one watching the house, I couldn't sleep.” She looks at him taken by surprise but he cuts the moment short by leaving. “Cheerio then.” When the door closes behind him, Ada keeps staring at it for a long time. Of course that she knew that Tommy cared for her – for the whole family – but for him to admit it out loud was a rare occurrence nowadays. She couldn’t stop herself of thinking that maybe this had something to do with his sudden interest in Daphne.

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“You’ve been awfully quiet these days.” Daphne was leaning into the window-sill, looking out when he approached her, stopping right at her side.

“You know that I don’t like this time of the year.” Her eyes met his and Alfie recognizes the pain behind them.

“Aye, I know, your birthday. But this isn’t all.” He looked at her again before asking. “You still worried about Tommy?”

“Tommy, huh?” Alfie waved her off and she laughed at his antics. “Yeah, I’m still worried about it.”

“You shouldn’t. Everything’s going accord to the plan.” He looked at the almost empty streets of London trying to hide something from her that Daphne couldn’t put her finger on.

“And what’s the plan, Alfie?” Alfie didn’t answer right away. In fact, he did nothing to acknowledge her question but she waited nevertheless, observing as he changed his weight from one foot to another, the way he twitched his fingers… After some time he turned to look at her.

“Do you trust me?”

“I do. Why are you asking me that?” Her straight answer didn’t surprised him, considering all that they had come through together. Yet, it still felt like some king of punishment for lying to her.

“Because sometimes I wish you didn’t.” At that she turned to him completely.

“Where did that came from?” She knew that he was hiding something but confronting him directly never reached its intended purpose.

“Don’t worry about it, aye. Don’t listen to me, I’m just getting old and cranky.” That made Daphne smile, Alfie took a step closer to her, placing his large hands in both of her arms while looking at her. “I’m just worried about you.” Because of Tommy and his men – he didn’t needed to say it, she knew.

“I know how to fend for myself.”

“I know.” It’s been a while since they hugged each other but it always felt welcoming. Alfie draped his arms around Daphne’s smaller frame, resting his head on top of hers whilst she entwined her arms around his waist, leaning her head on his chest. “There are some days that I wish he was still alive. Keep thinking about what he would thought about it all.” The woman took a deep breath, closing her eyes, a flood of memories passing behind her eyelids.

“Me too, Alfie. Me too.”

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“There'll be another four boat loads tomorrow. What's up, Charlie? Business is good.” Tommy was leaning into a pile of boxes observing the men working with his uncle.

“This isn't business, this is bloody work. Cigarettes and booze is all right but this... this manufactured stuff, it's heavy. I'm not even sure it's stolen.” Charlie looked at his nephew a little unsure and Tommy just shook his head.

“Some of it is legally purchased. One day, all of it will be.”

“It's like having a fucking job.” The older man complained before yeling at one of the boys. “Easy with them fan belts.” Tommy smiled, taking another drag form his cigarette. “Wipe that smile off of your face. I want another pound a boat.”

“Done.” Charles laughed.

“You don't even fight me anymore. It has something to do with that woman from London!” Tommy arched his eyebrows at that. “Yeah, it’s all the men talk about: the beautiful woman from Camden Town that came all the way from London to talk to you.”

“She’s with Solomons.” For some reason his talk with Ada came up in his mind and Tommy felt the need to prevent Daphne’s name being attached to his. He knew that people already talked about her and Alfie being together but most part of the rumors were spread by people that didn’t knew them. If they thought that her relationship with him was anything but profession she could be, indeed, ruined.

“That’s not what I heard.” They just stared at each other for some moments before Charlie changed the subject. “And there's no sport getting through the Black Country with this truce. They just fucking wave at you from the bank.”

“You just wave back, all right?” Tommy patted his uncle’s arm before leaving.

“And all these fucking cars? When did you last ride a horse, Tom?”

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Daphne just smiled to herself when she saw Harriet coming down the stairs with a disheveled Alfie right behind her.

“Daph! It’s so good to see you!” The woman came straight to her, taking her in what could be called a bear hug. “It’s been a while, Alfie has been hogging you.” She gave him a pointed look and he just scratched the back of his head, sighing.

“It’s a little bit of my fault two. The last few weeks haven’t been the best.” Harriet’s deep brown eyes studied the other woman’s reaction and her expression softened.

“I know, I know, darling. Maybe I can stole you for tea?” Daphne had a feeling that Alfie was going to say something, but Harriet had already hooked her arms with Daphne’s directing them towards the door. “See you, Alfred!” The courtesan shouted before the two of them left the house and all that Daphne could recognize was Alfie’s voice saying ‘Damn, woman’.”

When the two of them were sat comfortably in Harriet’s office, the one in her apartment just down the street, each one of them with a cup of tea in their hands, Harriet took a moment to analyze her friend better. For anyone that didn’t knew her, Daphne could have looked normal, but her friend knew her well enough to notice the signs of tiredness and worry in the other woman’s behavior.

“You’re not sleeping well.” Daphne met the statement with a sigh.

“I never do at this time of the year.” Harriet knew that to. They had shared rooms for a long time, sometimes even sleeping on the same bed, it was difficult not to notice the tossing and turning of Daphne’s nightmares.

“You’re planning something for this year?”

“No. But I’m sure that Alfie is.” The courtesan laughed, taking another sip of her tea.

“He wants to show his little sister off.” Daphne rolled her eyes.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not his only intention.” Harriet knew that too – Alfie never took his promise of protecting Daphne lightly and her birthday was the perfect occasion for him to show to everyone that anybody that messed with her would be messing with him.

“I heard that you met with the leader of the Blinders. How is he?” Daphne raised her brows at that.

“Alfie told you that?”

“I coarsed it out of him.” Harriet smiled and the other woman only laughed.

“I’m pretty sure that you did.”

“Don’t redirect, honey. Tell, me.”

“Why are you so interested in this?” More often than not, Daphne ignored the fact that she knew Harriet gave Alfie information about what the two talked. Most part of the time both her friend’s intentions were good and deep down she knew that the woman would never betray her, so she just brushed it off and used it at her advantage too.

“Can a friend be curious about her friend’s life?”

“Alfie told you something. Come on, what is it?” Harriet rolled her eyes, annoyed.

“I swear to God, sometimes I forget you two aren’t related. It’s unbelievable.” She looked at Daphne and saw a little smile forming on her lips. “He said something about being worried for you. Said that he doesn’t like the way the Shelby looks at you.”

“It���s not like that.” The dismissive tone she used caught Harriet’s attention.

“Daph, we both know that men often recognize when other men looks at a woman a certain way.” Daphne took a sip of her tea to prevent answering the unspoken question. “Is this guy interested in you in some way?”

“He’s just curious because he doesn’t know what exactly my relationship with Alfie is, exactly. Thomas has a fame of wanting to have control over everything, this is something out of his reach. That’s it.”

“Ok I think I asked you the wrong question.” There was a pregnant pause before Harriet spoke again. “Are you interested in him?” The question took Daphne by surprise. She haven’t thought about it that way but one thing that you could trust Harriet to do was read her like an open book. Thomas Shelby intrigued her, that was for sure. Her answer was the most sincere thing that Daphne could master.

“I don’t know.”

[glenngaylord]

OUTFEST 2020 FILM REVIEW: BOYS SHORTS 3 1/2 Stars (Average Score)

For many years, most LGBTQ+ festivals reserved their best short films for the Boys and Girls Shorts programs.  Usually deemed the sexiest, funniest, or most cinematic of the bunch, they typically play to sold out audiences.  Fortunately, shorts submissions have diversified and have showcased such incredible talent that festivals like Outfest offer a whole host of solid programs to enjoy.  

Still, there’s nothing like packing into the Directors Guild of America’s main theatre on a Saturday morning to collectively enjoy some carefully vetted films.  Unfortunately, this year, it’s just me and my admittedly cute-as-hell doggy sitting in my living room. No gaggles of gays to ogle. No over-the-top hugs, air kisses, or overhearing the constant refrain of, “What are you working on?” My sliding A/C unit makes a valiant but futile effort to cool us down as this endless Los Angeles heatwave threatens to kill our buzz.  Outfest may feel a little less communal this year, but the quality of the filmmaking remains high. I also applaud the programmers and filmmakers for helping to redefine and expand what has made this particular program so meaningful and enjoyable time and time again. Here are my quick tales on the Boys Shorts program:

QUERY (Dir: Sophie Kargman - USA- 7 mins)  3 Stars

Two straight identifying lifelong best friends, Jay and Alex, played by Justice Smith and Graham Graham Patrick Martin respectively, spend a day challenging heteronormative concepts until Jay makes the suggestion that they kiss.  What starts out as a bromantic, mumblecore trifle turns fascinating in its final moments, helped tremendously by some beautifully wordless acting by our two leads.  I can’t say I loved the tired idea that one of the guys justifies the kissing by saying he’s wasted, but it’s handled in a fairly dignified way missing  from so many gross-out comedies from the past.  Shot and framed with a nice sense of classical style, the film, a mere 7 minutes, doesn’t outstay its welcome and leaves you with a provocative final line.  Extra points for Armie Hammer’s blink-and-you’ll-miss-it jog-on role.  

S.A.M (Dir: Eyre and Ely - United Kingdom - 16 mins) 4 Stars

Two outcast Manchester teens (Sam Retford and George Webster) meet on a swing set and discover they’re both named Sam.  One appears to have a learning disability and the other smokes and seems to have an angry, rebellious streak.  Over the course of several weeks at the playground , their friendship deepens, slyly revealing their attraction to each other.  Both actors do a wonderful job dispelling common misconceptions of their challenges as they drink, swear brazenly at others, and develop a real bond.  Its handling of sexuality couldn’t be more lovely and instructive.  You wish more people would react to coming out the way we’re shown here.  Although shot entirely at the swing set, this film covers a lot of ground as we witness the beginnings of a ride-or-die friendship. I hope the directing team of Eyre and Ely develop this into a feature.  I could watch Sam and Sam all day.  

KIND OF (Dir: Noel Schamus - USA - 9 mins) 3 Stars

With friends imminently arriving for brunch, a trans masculine couple hash out their differences over their recently established open relationship.  Garcia (Tales Of The City) arrives home after a night out with a cis man to find Avi Roque preparing the meal.  Noel Schamus and co-writer Arno Mokros mine the tension between the two expertly, allowing us to see the genial but uncomfortable hugs and the passive-aggressive dialogue.  Things take an astonishing turn when they get brutally honest with each other, revealing a frank discussion many people have not had the opportunity to hear before.  The filmmaking itself may feel functional at best, but its honesty manages to stun.  

SEE YOU SOON (Dir: Tyler Rabinowitz - USA - 16 mins) 4 1/2 Stars

This gorgeously directed and acted film by Tyler Rabinowitz has a simple premise, aligned most closely with Boys Shorts of years past.  Vincent (James Cusati-Moyer) and Anthony (Jonny Beauchamp) live in Los Angeles and Manhattan respectively, yet have met online, FaceTiming in anticipation of Vincent’s upcoming weekend trip east. Both actors have that glow and eagerness between them which gets awkwardly dispelled when they first meet in person.  Still, they slowly gravitate towards each other as they traverse the city.  Anyone who has ever been in a long distance relationship will recognize the hesitation, the fumbling, and the painful moment when they realize they’re rushing into things.  With beautiful cinematography by Oren Soffer and a gentle, believable chemistry between the two leads, I felt immersed  in their struggle to figure out their path.  We may have seen this before with the seminal feature, Weekend, but it doesn’t take away from how well done it is here.  Also, Cusati-Moyer is a star in the making with his expressive face and ability to break your heart.  

LAST SUMMER WITH UNCLE IRA (Dir: Gary Jaffe, Katie Ennis - USA - 13 mins) 3 Stars

As Daniel (Igby Rigney, a potentially closeted teen, packs his bags for summer camp, his beloved gay uncle Ira (Wayne Wilcox), faces his pending death from AIDS complications.  Daniel’s mother (Tony winner Stephanie J. Block) relieves her son of his duties so that he can go outside and have what will likely be one final chat with Ira.  Set in the early 90s, the bulk of the short comprises of their conversation, with Ira trying to gently coax Daniel to come out, but the young man resists.  While heartfelt and well-performed by all three, the production suffers from a somewhat maudlin tone and style.  It harkens back to such films as An Early Frost, yet adds something fresh with the dynamic between the two leads.  Although I can’t say I was wowed by it, the final moments did make me cry with its lovely expression of intimacy.  Any film which can awaken my cold dead heart is worth something!

WHO CAN PREDICT WHAT WILL MOVE YOU? (Dir: Livia Huang - USA - 9 mins) 2 1/2 Stars

On the surface, this very aptly titled short appears to be about nothing as we watch two young Asian American gay men share a final night together on a basketball court and then in an apartment.  With limited dialogue and scenes consisting of dribbling a ball, hugging, and staring into each others’ eyes as their hands intertwine, the film leans more toward the experimental side of things. Despite a nearly non-existent story, what Huang and her actors excel at is creating and sustaining a mood, a feeling.  It’s simple and yet somehow conveys a sense of intimacy.  I won’t remember having seen it tomorrow, but it sure did make me want to lie on the floor with someone.  

THE CYPHER (Dir: Leia Solomon - USA - 15 mins) 4 1/2 Stars

Khalil (Nigel Cox), a closeted young Philadelphia man, may just win an upcoming rap battle, but when word gets out he has a boyfriend (Juan Gil), his plans may go up in smoke.  Think 8 Mile meets Moonlight in this colorful, vibrant, story of a guy who learns what summoning courage and using it to hone his creative talents really means.  With nonstop energy and a wonderful supporting turn by Kerrice Brooks as his sister Kiki, who unintentionally outs him, The Cypher hits all the right notes.  Although still laden with homophobia, out artists such as Lil Nas X and Frank Ocean have made inroads in hip hop and rap culture.  In this spirit, this sexy, thrilling short brings power, strength and fearlessness to queer black voices staking their claim to a previously forbidding genre.  Nigel Cox, a relative newcomer, deserves attention for his loud and proud performance.  

[gothamdetected-a]

an idiot’s guide to the wayne family.

now complete with new diagrams! i wish i wash kidding, ive really made a diagram to help illustrate this.

[ follow the link here for actual visible quality. thanks tumblr.]

some points to make quickly -

• this is not complete. there were probably more siblings and wives and children, but i just focused on the main lineage i could piece together from DC knowledge

• apologies for the lack of knowledge on the women in the family past the last century. this is unfortunately common in real life too, as women were not landowners etc, and without a marriage certificate they basically don’t show up on records. dc happily talk about the male line but not about the wives and daughters so :/

• the dates are fairly made up, and especially at the bottom are just me twisting things to fit my own personal canon

• and finally, i just wanted to say that while this is pieced together from what DC have told us, there are a lot of holes that i have filled with headcanons. not all of this is canon. sometimes i just want to give a person a cool life that dc are too cowardly to do.

so, although this varies by “earth”, i have tried to combine the various histories given for pre- and post-52 waynes into a full comprehensible timeline. i’ve probably failed, but this is what i’m sticking with.   

to start with we’re supposed to believe that there was a norse guy calling himself the Bat-Man, running around in the 10th century killing frost giants. is it plausible? yes. is it exaggerated? most definitely. am i wiping it from existence because it was one issue in a faintly terrible run that has technically been retconned anyway? absolutely. ignoring that makes the earliest recorded ancestor of the wayne family a man called gawayne de weyne, a french crusader in the 14th century. on some earths he’s called lancelot wayne (too on the nose) or harold wayne (thanks i hate it), so im personally going to retcon that and just say gawayne is it. also because i love the etymological aspect of the name beginning as de weyne in old high french and it slowly changing through out the centuries. gawayne, also sometimes written as gevain, was one of the knights sent to retrieve the holy grail, but, as knights tended to do, he died. sorry gawayne. the weirdest part about all of this is that he asked for his heart to be embalmed, and there’s a plot line revolving around this (batman: scottish connection). now i’m not saying that madness runs in the family, but the waynes absolutely do not get a good head start in history. 

gawayne must have had at least one surviving heir who goes on to have babies etc etc, and eventually we get to the 16th century, and the next instance of the waynes. specifically, contarf wayne. which, i have to say, super dumb name. if i ever have a kid, im calling it contarf. so it’s now the 1500s and the waynes have somehow become scottish, probably from getting given land after crusading and that. apparently gawayne was aknight of the scottish court, despite being french, which actually happened a lot back then. literally the only notable thing contarf does with his life is build castle wayne, and i swear these people are all born with both madness and a flair for the dramatic. yes at some point bruce does go to this gloomy scottish castle where it’s always rainy and stormy and fits right on in, so that’s terrifying.

around a hundred years later nathaniel wayne tries to emigrate across to the “new world”. nathaniel likes witchhunting, and has come over to what will one day be the US following a witch fleeing from england - annie. annie who he may have dated. annie who may be pregnant with his child. good on you nathaniel, that’s a healthy relationship you’ve got right there. after the baby is delivered, he finds her and. you know, people were not kind of witches back then, so she dies. and with her dying breath, curses nathaniel and all his descendants. which includes her OWN BABY (super punk move), and one day bruce wayne. this curse manifests in very few of the extant waynes surviving beyond 40, often going mad, and absolutely tuning on each other. nathaniel’s particular grisly end comes when his is the fateful colony that ends up in what-will-one-day-be-gotham (see my idiots guide to gotham for more juicy details), releasing the deacon blackfire from his little cave and ending up missing, presumed dead. (definitely dead). this is the start of the “waynes probably should avoid gotham” saga. spoiler alert - they don’t. 

somewhere in the interluding 100 years, a branch of the waynes do actually successfully make it over into the americas. 2 brothers, caleb and thomas simon wayne, reach the east coast from britain, and go their separate ways. caleb joins a convoy heading out west, leading a wagon train, and, as so many pioneers do, he also dies, while trying to make this trip. but caleb really isnt the interesting brother here (sorry man), because what thomas gets up to is far more exciting. he settles in, lo and behold, the newly formed town of gotham, and for some strange reason (probably because all the waynes are fairly nuts, as we’ve established at this point) decides to give devil-worshipping a go. maybe its fucking curse. maybe its something in the water. maybe its maybelline. but whatever it is, thomas wayne tries to summon and ensnare the demon barbatos by killing some innocents, in a wild, but understandable, attempt to gain immortality. he doesn’t succeed. or does he. it half works - instead of summoning the bat-demon (yes the same bat-demon that the founding fathers later summon and also trap beneath gotham) he gets one of darkseid’s hyper-dimensional bounty hunters, and some how, through some space age magic, the energy of this event corrupts him into agelessness/slowed ageing, we’re not totally sure. later dear old tom pops back up as the villainous dr simon hurt, and literally fights his own descendant. DC give no fucks. 

after the whole corrupting not-magic thing, but before he disappears, thomas/simon impregnates one of his cult’s disciples. a lot. (is this why the waynes can look 30 at 50? more on this at 10) and between 1747 and 1771 (because immortal people also have immortal sperm apparently), she bears him 3 sons. probably some daughters too but again, who cares about that. not DC, that’s for damn sure. these sons are all absolutely fucking insane, just like daddy dearest. the eldest, who is LITERALLY known as “mad” anthony wayne, is said to be the spitting image of bruce, which is confirmed through some time travelling bs that we’re not going to think about. anthony and horatio wayne, the middle brother, both sign up to fight in the revolutionary war. unfortunately THE CURSE STRIKES AGAIN and horatio perishes while burning british ships. anthony goes on to becomes a brigadier general, serving directly under george washington and pulls some crazy good strategies that help to kick the british out of new jersey, earning his nickname of “mad” anthony, because only someone fucking nuts could come up with these plans, and pull them off. the youngest brother darius wayne is only 4 when the war breaks out, and is therefore too Babey to fight, but does later become notable for being the man to start construction on wayne manor. in 1795, using the money inherited from his brother horatio on his death, he hires an architect nathan van derm, to begin planning and building. sadly darius will never see it completed, with funds dwindling and his older brother’s death, eventually darius takes his own life. 

not to worry, he leaves behind 2 sons - herkimer and charles wayne. literally herkimer’s only notable feature is that he fights in the war of 1812. sorry my guy, DC hate you. charles, on the other hand, is a businessman, who manages the failing company his father had left behind and starts to grow the wayne fortune. charles buys more land surrounding the manor, as well as a lot of general gotham real estate, and is the man accrediting for starting wayne enterprises as a series of several small business, ranging from merchant trading to land ownership to mining, in 1845. however charlie contracts tuberculosis at the ripe old age of 62 and shuffles off the mortal coil. 

the oldest of his sons, charles lincoln wayne, also known as charles junior, does 2 things - begins construction on the wayne manor again in 1855 after purchasing it back from jerome k. van derm, the destitute son of the original architect, who had been living in the bones of the construcion, and uses a considerable portion of his inheritance to build the gotham botanical gardens in 1870. the next son, winslow wayne, is another enigma - the only thing mentioned about him in the comics is that he fought alongside teddy roosevelt, which i’m guessing is in the spanish-american war. but the youngest two brothers, joshua thomas and solomon zebadiah wayne are the real spicy pair. not only do they tackle the bat infestation on the manor grounds, but the pair work to change the federal system of america - joshua, when he’s not managing the wayne companies, is an abolitionist who engages in secret missions to free slaves by getting them across the border into canada, and solomon, the vaguely more sensible of the two, becomes a judge, attempting to be as fair and incorruptible as possible. sadly joshua is killed due to his slave smuggling antics (THE CURRSSEE), and this sends solomon slightly nuts, and causes him to contract the architect cyrus pinkney, who is even more nuts, to basically. build gotham. these two men are the reason 97% of buildings have gargoyles on them. 

solomon has only 1 child before he dies, who fortunately, grows up to be a very shrewd businessman capable of growing wayne ent even through with the advent of shipping and rail sectors. this man, alan wayne, constructs the original wayne tower in 1888, and it completely swamps the gotham skyline. he also marries catherine van derm, the great granddaughter of the original architect of wayne manor, and finally manage to complete and move in to the building in 1895, exactly 100 years after the project was started. for a while they are very happy, and catherine falls pregnant. but this darn curse just won’t leave these wayne boys alone, and in 1897, catherine dies giving birth to their son, kenneth wayne. a year later, lost and traumatised and going insane thinking about his wife’s death alan wayne mysteriously disappears (read as: fell down a well and was maybe or maybe not tortured and killed by the court of owls). 

kenneth wayne, raised as virtually an orphan, turns out to have his papa’s business management skills, and, foreseeing america's impending industrialisation in the 20s and 30s, makes some risky moves that pay off, including the advent of wayne chemicals, and wayne ent expands yet again. kenneth, like the recurring pattern that you can see here, dies fairly early due to WW2 however, leaving his wife laura to care for their 4 sons AND the company, which she does like a boss ass bitch. seriously, women barely had the vote and she was already a titan of industry and raising 4 teenage boys like. massive props to you babe. these boys are

ishmael wayne, a whaler who is an incredible parody of captain ahab and also dies trying to catch a white whale, elwood wayne, who goes and reclaims what is now called waynemoor castle in scotland, living there until his death, silas wayne, who may or may not be a thief posing as a wayne because the real silas died, AND at long last, patrick wayne - bruce’s granpappy, who founded the wayne tech arm of the company at 20 years old, aiding the war effort, and where this stupidly long post ends, because there is 0 point in me recounting the lives of thomas, bruce, or any of his children. everyone knows them. could i write more about thomas’ siblings and the kanes and how they tie in? yes. but this post is like 2100 words long and i want to sleep at some point today so this will have to do askjdbjsdhgf

[disregardcanon]

end of year writing meme

Total Stories Written: 27

Total Words Written: 147413 Average Words Per Story: if you do the mean, then it’s 5,459 Shortest Story: the aftermath of rebirth at 338 words Longest: Paint a New Horizon at 23,673 words

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d predicted?

I wrote fewer stories than I expected, but they were far longer than I expected. I wrote a lot of 11k fics. 

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write most?

pairing: Sansa/Margaery (throwback to 2015 omg) 

genre: I don’t feel like I had a certain genre I wrote a lot of tbh. 

fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January?

THE POKEMON GAMES! Like, oh my god. I wrote fanfiction about soul silver. I wrote fanfiction about POKEMON WHITE. what. the fuck. Like, technically the first fic i ever wrote was about pokemon but i never expected to do it again. 

Did you take any writing risks this year?

I wrote 2 very long asoiaf fics about difficult subject matter. Combined, they add up to more than 40 thousand words of fic. 

Do you have any fanfic or general writing goals for the new year?

Fanfiction wise, I would like to finish up some of my wips and try to improve. 

In general, I would like to figure out more what I want my writing to look like moving forward and how to go about that. I’m experiencing some growing pains, so I need to reassess my style and strategy and see what I need to readjust moving forward. 

From the past year of writing, what was your…

Best story of this year: Paint a New Horizon

This feels like a bit of a cop out since it’s the longest, but I am very firmly the most proud of this fic out of anything I wrote this year. I feel like the emotional bits were satisfying, the romance worked nicely, and the action kept me interested in a way that almost never does. I was able to commit to TWENTY THREE THOUSAND WORDS and put my ALL INTO IT! that is. monumental for me. I’ve written long fics in the past, but those were chaptered and frankly, not as good as this one was or as much work. 

I love this verse so well that I might actually go back and write more in it later when I have time. I have the beginnings of a sequel ruminating around in my drats. 

Most popular story of this year: normally I split this up into multiple categories, but by hits, kudos, OR comment threads The Times They Are a Changin’ comes out on top. The mcu fandom really went nuts over Carol and Maria, didn’t they? 

Personal favorite:

Washing Machine Heart is a fic that I hold close to my heart. 1. I wrote this one when I was on a study abroad in Latin America, which is the coolest thing that I have ever done 2. it’s just. really well done. I’ve never written something quite so messy and unpleasant in a realistic way before. It’s ugly in the way that Steven Universe: Future is ugly right now. In exactly the way that “Washing Machine Heart” should imply 3. oh god was it cathartic 

Most under-appreciated:

Maternal, Paternal at 71 kudos, I know I shouldn’t call this one “under-appreciated”, but it’s in a few VERY happening tags, in a very happening fandom with a VERY popular set of characters. I’d think that people would be more interested in reading “Endeavor is an asshole and eventually Dabi kills him” but like. it’s whateves I guess XD

Most fun to write:

We Could Be Heroes both semesters that I had during 2019 were. super fucking stressful. the only times that I’ve had that were productive for fic was January break, summer vacation, and December break. 

Last April on my birthday, though, I rewarded myself and after I got home from hanging with some friends I just sat down at my laptop and didn’t think about literally anything. I just wrote. I took a format that I knew I liked and didn’t have to think about (talk show format with an OC I already made for a different story) and then 3 characters I was very interested in then (Melissa Shield, Monica Rambeau, and Tahani Al-Jamil) and then I just. ran with it. I wrote and wrote and wrote and it was amazing. I didn’t think about it being good or about my homework or literally anything other than this talk show lady talking to these three cool characters. 

It was wonderful. 10/10 would do it again. 

Story with the single sexiest moment: 

Familiarity. It is literally the only thing I wrote this year with ANY sex in it, so it’s automatically the sexiest. Way to go Margaery you did it. 

Most “holy crap, that’s wrong, even for you” story:

Um. Just Souring Grapes in general. 

Most challenging to write:

Biggest disappointment:

Shouto Todoroki Joins the Supervillain Dads Club I hoped to finish this fic last year in January. It’s currently December and I haven’t been able to look at the thing since. 

I think it’s mainly because I just lost the drive, but it’s also kind of because wips stress me the fuck out. And also I had 2 stressful semesters so that doesn’t help.  Favorite character to write: my favorite characters to write this year were both Todorokis! Dabi and Fuyumi are both a joy to write, I swear

Favorite opening lines: 

Serena falls down at the kitchen table feeling as cold and distant as the room does. The harsh lines and open floor plan were supposed to show a minimalism only possible with wealth, but to Serena it's always felt empty.

A Woman’s Place

Surprisingly, Theon’s life does not change much either way after Maron is taken to the Greenlands. Balon does not magically start paying attention to him, even though he’d prayed every night to the Drowned God that he would. 

Pretty Little Thrall 

The Twins are a grand fortress spanning the width of the Green Fork. A great stone tower stands on each side of the river, with a greater bridge running in between. The Frey stable boys have taken their horses, and Jeyne walks as close to the river as she dares as they make their way to the tower. She watches the river rush beside her in awe. She’s never seen a river run so wild before. It seems like the very waters rushing beside her want to rise up and drown her themselves.

Good Family

Favorite closing lines:

That's what she gave up fighting the Kree for, and Carol will do everything that she can to bring them back. She's stopped fighting for some things, but she'll never stop fighting for this. If the times don't change on this one, she'll make them. She'll rip that gaudy fucking glove off of that bastard's grape crush colored hand and shove it up his ass if that's what it takes to get her family back.

The Times They Are a Changin’

"Alright, then. Let’s do this together,” you say, “as a team.” You think that you really like this "being friends" thing. Maybe after you beat Red, you and Silver can go to Hoenn- or Sinnoh. Unova even. Somewhere new and exciting with new people to beat. It’s nice to have a partner who’s not a Pokemon, for once. You think that, together, you could be the best trainers that ever lived.

Maybe the best friends too.

no silver medals (when you get the gold together) 

The stars spread out above you- the universe expanding outwards onwards and upwards, excelsior.

Excelsior

Other favorite lines:

What does a grape do under pressure? Grapes tend to shrivel in the sunlight. Turn to raisins, actually. She doesn’t remember what poem that was from, but she remembers reading something like that in English class once. Some poem that she didn’t understand really, and might not have gotten even if it were in Japanese. She doesn’t think that’s what she’s doing.

Does it ferment, like wine? Her father always joked about her mother aging like a fine wine, growing more beautiful every year, growing stronger. But Miné isn't gaining strength, not really. Not right now. Maybe she’s just souring, getting more and more bitter about things that she can't have. Maybe she's just souring grapes.

Souring Grapes

“The authorities confirmed that Endeavor was not even in the state during the accident, and Shouto’s doctors confirmed that the burns were consistent with boiling liquid, not an open flame.” Superman looks visibly relieved to hear that.

“But that does not mean that I trust him,” Batman says, “I would prefer to keep an eye on him.”

“Why would you want to keep an eye on him, he’s a superhero ,” Captain Marvel says, with none of The Wisdom of Solomon but all of The Innocence of a Ten Year Old, “that means that he’s a good guy, right?”

Shouto Todoroki Joins the Supervillain Dads Club

The thought stabs into his brain like a needle, like the scent of pine, like the memories he’s never wanted back. Robb was the one person who ever cared about him, and Theon betrayed him to parade around as a prince and become Ramsay Bolton’s broken little toy. He swore himself to the little boy who took him by the hand when he came to Winterfell as a scared little boy and never let go. And then Theon betrayed him.

“Theon,” the trees whisper,” Theon.” The crows in the branches take flight, cawing his name, and he feels something else take flight too. His heart, beating somewhere deep inside his chest.

“Theon,” it throbs, “Theon, Theon.”

He wants to do something, something reckless, something brave. Something that makes him redeemable.

He can’t save Robb, but he can save someone . He can save Robb’s fake sister. Theon can save Jeyne from some of her pain.

If You Believe in Me (I’ll Still Believe)

She dared a glance forward and met Margaery’s eyes- a deep, chocolate brown. They were warm and inviting and Margaery’s little curly bangs framed her face like a heart. Margaery’s head went over the back of the booth and it seemed to almost be floating against the flowery wallpaper. It looked like Margaery was lying out in a field of flowers- the Maiden gazing up at the clouds and trying to make shapes of them.

She could imagine Margaery telling her that this one is a flower, like Tyrell, and this one’s a deer, like Baratheon, and this one’s a dick, like Joffrey. She giggled nervously again and felt her cheeks flush. She’d never felt this giddy and unsteady in her whole life.

“Are you alright, Sansa?” Margaery asked cautiously. She reached across the table and laid a hand over Sansa’s own. The touch was warm and tender, and Sansa felt the blush from her toes to the tip of her head.

“I’m perfect!” Sansa nearly screeched. Margaery laughed at that, but her look was kind.

“Yes, darling,” she said with a smile that was wide and fond, “I think that you are.”

Lesbian. The word wasn’t supposed to fill her with such a warm, hopeful feeling, was it? She wiggled awkwardly in her chair, trying to get situated and stop feeling so silly and excited and vulnerable, but it didn’t fix anything. She felt Margaery’s leg brush against hers under the table. It sent a jolt through her.

Lesbian.

Sansa took a shaky breath. She thought to herself that there might be something to that.

Paint a New Horizon 

[kiss-my-freckle]

A truth. I want the whole truth.

Characters that have learned Raymond Reddington’s real identity. 

The Director. 

A truth: Raymond Reddington and the Fulcrum.  The whole truth: Katarina Rostova and the Fulcrum.

An affair between two people on opposite sides of the Cold War. 

At first, believed Red is her father. 

Solomon: What is the deal with you two anyways? It’s what everybody wants to know. Some say it’s a daddy-daughter thing. Others swear it’s May-September. I prefer to believe it’s a little of both.

Liz: He’ll come for you. The Director: Reddington? Yes, I expect he will, now that his prima ballerina is trapped in a jewelry box. Did you ever find out? Liz: Find out what? The Director: His connection to you. It’s always been curious to me. Follows you around like a faithful bloodhound. But you still don’t know. Well, that’s too bad. It’s - it’s a very unsatisfying way to go out, don’t you think?

Never believed Red had the Fuclrum. 

-- Do we have confirmation on what it is they’re looking for? The Director: Yes, we do. The Fulcrum. -- So Reddington does not have it. The Director: I never believed he did, actually, and his efforts to stop Braxton only confirmed my suspicions. 

-- What’s our collateral exposure? The Director: Honestly? None. We are mirroring Braxton’s search algorithms, and if the Fulcrum comes into play, we will find it. -- So, Mr. Braxton is a liability? The Director: Oh, yes, and Mr. Reddington may no longer be a threat. We haven’t touched him for fear that he’d use the Fulcrum as a– Well, to expose us, but he’s bluffing. -- You can’t be sure of that. Alan Fitch did not think so. The Director: Whether he is or not, it’s a moot point. He needs to be eliminated.

The Director: Where is it? Braxton: I’ll have it to you by 9:00. The Director: I thought you said you had it already. Braxton: And I do. I wanted that Fulcrum in my hands before I negotiated with you.  

Red: I don’t think you have any real comprehension of the depth and breadth of your vulnerability. But only the one who possesses the Fulcrum could possibly fathom that. The Director: I think you’re bluffing. I don’t think you have it. I don’t think you ever did. Red: Try me. Call my bluff. Please. Call my bluff.

The Director: I admire your nerve, Agent Keen, barging in here like this. But I’m afraid it’s too late. Liz: Well, then you’re gonna have to read about this in tomorrow’s New York Times. The Fulcrum. You didn’t think Reddington had it. Well, here it is, and it tells quite a story. Political assassinations, terrorism. We know who you are, what you’ve done. You called Reddington’s bluff, and you lost. 

The Director: Matias, I didn’t expect to see you here. Solomon: Peter. You said Mr. Reddington did not have the Fulcrum in his possession. You said it was a bluff. A ploy. You were wrong. And now our plans have been sorely compromised.

Realized who Red is during Laurel Hitchin’s press conference. 

Interrogator: You were born in Moscow. Your mother was a KGB agent named Katarina Rostova. 

The Director: I never saw it before. Liz: Saw what? The Director: How much you look like your mother.

The Director: The daughter of a notorious KGB spy, Keen is a wanted terrorist.

Liz: Everyone talks as if she was a terrible person. Was she?

Liz: He’s been turned. The Cabal framed me. Who better than the daughter of a KGB agent? Raskovich: Hmm. Katarina Rostova.

The Director: I know who you really are, Raymond. Who you are to her. And I know why you did this. Does she? Red: I can’t think of even one set of circumstances in which that would be any of your business.

He did the gender-jump, stressing gender pronouns.  

Hitchin: The United States Government has confirmed that the alleged criminal conspiracy known as The Cabal is real. This conspiracy has as its goal one key objective - to inflame tensions with Russia and return the world to a Cold War posture. In an effort to accomplish this, members of the conspiracy framed FBI Agent Elizabeth Keen, making it appear as if she were a Russian sleeper agent. These crimes were actually committed by an assassin known only by his code name, Karakurt. And I am proud to announce that due to outstanding work by some of this country’s best and brightest, led by Special Agent Donald Ressler - Karakurt is now in federal custody. Journalist: What about the Attorney General? Hitchin: It saddens me greatly to say this, but the evidence overwhelmingly shows that Tom Connolly, the Former Attorney General, was a key member of this Cabal. And while Ms. Keen did fire the shot that killed him, earlier today a judge accepted her plea to the charge of involuntary manslaughter, approved by us, along with mandatory probation. And Tom Connolly wasn’t alone. We have to now face the hard truth there are enemies of America within our own ranks. In fact, just a short time ago, I learned that the Director of the Clandestine Services of the CIA, Mr. Peter Kotsiopulos, is also part of this conspiracy and has apparently fled the country.

Tom Keen.

A truth: Constantin Rostov, Liz’s stepfather. The whole truth: Raymond Reddington, Liz’s biological father. 

A mother stuck between two men, a husband and a lover.  

*My theories are based on dialogue and body language* 

Tom didn’t know Reddington was Liz’s father. 

Red: Tell me about your husband. Does he know you as well as you know him? Does he know about you as a child? Does he know about the fire?

As Red questioned her, he pointed to the scar on her palm. It only makes sense for him to question this because the mark is engraved in his go-box.  

Tom: What is his obsession with you? You guys got like a uh - daddy-daughter thing going on?

This was pure snark. 

Tom: Your father's alive.

Tom had no reason to tell Liz her father is alive unless she told him her father died in the fire. The only reason he’d tell her that her father is alive, is in the hope she’d seek out her father. He knew she was seeking answers about her past. 

Tom: That mean Reddington’s your dad? Liz: No. My father died when I was 4, in a fire. Reddington was there. I think she may have been too.

The first time they had Liz inform Tom that her father died in the fire. 

Tom: I have some news. Liz: You’ve got news? I’ve got news. It’s about Reddington. Tom: What about him? Liz: He’s my father. Tom: He’s your father? Tom was shocked to hear this. 

Nik: Reddington’s her father? I can’t say I’m surprised. I’m sad for her. That sucks, but what does this have to do with me? Tom: Nothing. That mystery has been solved. 

Tom considered her father a mystery. Solved when Liz told him. 

Tom believed Rostov was her father. 

Tom: He’ll come for her, for Agnes. Red: Yes.

Enough to know Alexander Kirk would come for Agnes. 

Liz: I don’t think he’ll hurt her. Tom: Of course he will. She’s his last chance of survival. Liz: If he hurts her, he loses me. Tom: Yeah, and lives. 

Enough to believe Agnes could save his life through genetic donation. 

Liz: It doesn’t make any sense. I saw the DNA test. Tom: From 30 years ago. Clearly, it was flawed. Liz: And the things he knows about me, he wasn’t pretending. He believed he was my father. So did I. Tom: I didn’t want you to do it in the first place. But I admire you for wanting to. Liz: This whole time, Reddington was right. Tom: Yeah, but he was wrong about one thing. Kirk is never getting out of here alive.

And a DNA report that wouldn’t have been in Kirk’s SVR file because he wasn’t Kirk, but Rostov 30 years ago. For Tom, “clearly” it was flawed, despite knowing documention can be fabricated. Surely, since he passed himself off as a teacher while married to Liz. 

Liz: I got your SVR file. Your DNA profile was in it. I know you’re my father.

Body language from Kirk and Red. 

The coincidence of dialogues. 

Kirk: For a time, I thought maybe he was the father, but I have proof that he’s not.

Tom: This, um - SVR report, when I talked to you earlier, I hadn’t finished reading it. Liz: Did you find something about Agnes? Tom: No. Liz: Then what difference does it make? Tom: It’s about you. And your father. Liz: What’s this? Tom: It’s a DNA report.

--

Kirk: He’s just a spiteful, evil man.

Tom: Reddington’s a bad man, Liz.

--

Kirk: Reddington, he was in love with your mother and he’s obsessed with you.

Tom: What is his obsession with you? You guys got like a uh - daddy-daughter thing going on?

--

Kirk: You’ll see in time that the normal life you want, I’m the only one who can give that to you.

Tom: That? Having to hide, that’s gonna end. You’re gonna have a normal life, Liz. A family, kids, everything you always wanted.

Tom: You have nothing to apologize for. You tried to help us find a normal life. I’d take that risk again.

--

Kirk: Reddington lied to you, Masha. He told you your father was dead, but thanks to you - what you did on the water - I’m very much alive.

Tom: Your father's alive.

--

Kirk: All the stories Reddington’s told you about who he is and his connection to you - he knew you were looking for answers and he took advantage of that to re-enter your life.

Tom: Reddington. He’s not who you think.

Liz: But he has a moral code. I don’t like it, but at least I know what it is, and it does not include lying to me. Tom: Whatever you say.

--

Kirk: But the answers you’ve been looking for are here.

Liz: I had the photo enhanced. It’s a rough extrapolation of features since the face was almost entirely blown out. I ran it through every FBI database from facial recognition, mug shots, surveillance feeds. Tom: Or I could just buy this boat, and we could disappear. Liz: Do you know how many images are in the NGI database? Tom: If we go away, none of that matters.

--

Kirk: Then you know Reddington lied to you from the beginning.

Tom: You are using her. You have been using her from the very beginning.

Tom: A secret you’ve been keeping from Liz, like you always do. Like you have from the very beginning.

--

The difference between knowing “Kirk” and knowing "Rostov”

Tom: Did the same thing last month. It’s probably why you don’t recognize me. Constantin. Berlin, man, he’s tough. I had to get away for a while, go to Germany, figure a few things out.

--

Reddington and Rostov in Red’s 5x8 dialogue. He answered Tom's question. 

Red: I’ll say this for you - you’ve always believed that you were acting in her best interest. Selling me out to Berlin, faking her death - you always thought you were helping her.

Tom knew him as Rostov rather than Kirk. That’s why Tom said he didn’t know him when Red first dished out his identity. The DNA report wasn’t under his Kirk identity. I believe he hired Tom to find his daughter, Masha Rostova, while giving Tom reason to turn against Raymond. Handing that DNA report to Tom would’ve hidden his current identity, only revealed his dead identity, and Tom would’ve believed in the report just as Kirk did. I believe this is where Gina Zanetakos ties into the story, acting as Tom’s handler for Kirk. Basically pulling from his mission for Kirk when he told Gina he wanted out. This then gave Kirk reason to hire Scottie, who then hired Solomon. I don’t know how anyone can buy a DNA report being kept in Kirk’s SVR file for either Elizabeth Keen or Masha Rostova.  

Red’s bones in a bag in the back seat, pumping Kirk’s gas in the car. 

Ian Garvey.

A truth: Jennifer is the daughter of Raymond and Carla. The whole truth: Liz is the daughter of Raymond and Katarina.

Two half-sisters, having different mothers.

Garvey relied on the DNA search through CODIS.

Garvey: The last thing he’d want is for you to ID these bones. But you couldn’t resist, could you, Tom? So you and your friends ran a DNA search through CODIS. Thank you for that, by the way.  

He also knows the identity of the bones were that of the real Reddington.

Garvey: I’ll make this simple. I have the suitcase. And because I have the suitcase, I need to speak with Raymond Reddington.

Garvey: Whatever you imagine the answer might be, it’s better than that. Reddington’s power is legendary. With this, I control that power.

Garvey: Everything you believed for the last 30 years has been a lie. You’ve spent a lifetime hiding for no reason.

Garvey knew about Jennifer.

Jennifer: What I know about Ian is he’s a good man. He’s looked after me since I was a kid. Been like a father to me. Jennifer: Look, Ian isn’t my father. He protected me from my father. Got me into Witness Protection to keep my father away from me. Liz: Wait I’m - you were in WITSEC? Jennifer: For most of my life, yeah. And now I know why. It’s because the FBI spends more time looking for good people like my surrogate father rather than bad people like my real one. Jennifer: Ian is my surrogate father. He taught me to drive. He showed up to my graduation. He was there after my real father abandoned me. And you want me to help you arrest him. Garvey: Everything you believed for the last 30 years has been a lie. You’ve spent a lifetime hiding for no reason. Jennifer: I don’t know what he’s done to you or what’s in the duffel bag, and I don’t care. All I know is that my entire life, he’s protected me from you, and it’s about time that I started protecting him.

Red didn't know about Jennifer. It leveled the Red-Garvey war. 

Garvey: I could take the bones public. Red: You could, but you haven’t. And you won’t. I’m not sure why. There’s something I’m missing. Something holding you back. I won’t kill you until I have the bones, and for some inexplicable reason, you won’t go public until you know this whole truth.

Garvey: You have no idea who I am or why I want the truth. Aren’t you curious? Don’t you have any questions? Red: Oh, I have plenty of questions, but none I’d pose to you. The answers will have to wait for me to find out on my own. Garvey: Good luck with that.

Jennifer: I don’t know what he’s done to you or what’s in the duffel bag, and I don’t care. All I know is that my entire life, he’s protected me from you, and it’s about time that I started protecting him. Look at me. Anything? I’m your daughter. The one you abandoned 28 years ago on Christmas Eve. Red: Jennifer.

Ross: Garvey didn’t reach out to me because I hate Reddington. He did it because he wanted me to help him get the truth to the person he cares about most. Liz: You. Of course it’s you. Ross: Garvey gave me the bag in Costa Rica so I could get it to your sister.

Red: We came all this way to find the duffel has been handed from one enemy of mine to another. Dembe: And yet, neither chose to make its contents public. Smokey: If what you’re looking for is as valuable as you say, why- why- why- why didn’t they put it up for auction? Red: I have no idea.

Garvey didn't know about Liz. Again, this leveled the Red-Garvey war.

Tom: I’m not lying. I got a wife and a kid. I’m not dying here. Not from you, not for him, and certainly not for whatever the hell’s in that case.

Wife and kid.

Garvey: You must be the wife. What’s your name, darling?

Navarro: Found it! In the kid’s room. It’s all here.

Garvey: Let’s start with the truth. Red: You have the bones. You already know the truth. Garvey: A truth. I want the whole truth.

Garvey: What about Keen? She’s a witness. You gonna put her outta my reach, too? Red: I don’t have to because, where she is concerned, you have no leverage. Secret or no secret, if you reach out to her, I’ll cut off your hands. If you look in her direction, I’ll cut out your eyes. And if you ever utter her name again in my presence, I’ll cut out your tongue.

Garvey: He owns her. She’s an FBI agent in the pocket of the FBI’s most-wanted criminal. Jennifer: He doesn’t own her. He is her. And she is him. She’s acting like a criminal because she is the daughter of one. Garvey: Reddington’s her father. Jennifer: Yeah, and I’m her sister - who I wish I could’ve gotten to know.

Garvey: Now I get it. Reddington and your husband - how they knew each other. Reddington didn’t know you through him. He knew him through you. But the duffel bag - how did your husband come by it? And why didn’t he tell you what was in it? Red: Because you killed him before he could. And if you try and tell it now, I’ll do the same to you. Utter one word. One article “A” - “An” - “The” - and I’ll shoot you.

Jennifer’s dialogue in parallel with Liz’s, further proof of their connection. 

Red: What if I were to tell you that all the things you've come to believe about yourself are a lie? 

Garvey: Everything you believed for the last 30 years has been a lie. You’ve spent a lifetime hiding for no reason.

Continued through Jennifer’s dialogue to Red before Garvey was shot.

Constantin Rostov.

A truth: Raymond Reddington's sins. The whole truth: Katarina Rostova's sins.

Death and rebirth. The double identity.

Liz: Two years wasted. Two years we spent. On what? Do you care at all what you’ve done to me. What you’ve done to my life?

Kirk: I don’t really know how we got here, Raymond. I remember being an honest businessman in a happy marriage until you came along. Seduced my wife. To her credit, Katarina broke it off, but you couldn’t let go. I came home one night and they were gone - my wife, my child.

--

Tom: I was doing my job. Liz: Your job? That was our life! We were going to have a baby to - You begged me to have a baby!

Kirk: My girl who’s not even my girl.

Kirk: I had proof that she was my daughter. A DNA test.

Kirk: All that matters is that we had a family, and you destroyed it. We had a daughter, and you took her from us. Why?

--

Tom: I was doing my job. Liz: Stop talking about your job!

Red: KGB trained her to seduce ... foreign diplomats, intel ... intelligence personnel ... into ... believ ... revealing secrets. You always thought I was the interloper. The truth is that I was an assignment. I’m ... I’m sure you were too. Kirk: That’s a lie. Red: A cover then. You were wealthy and powerful. Gave her access.

Red: The Major runs a finishing school of sorts. The most reputable of its kind. He recruits wayward children, orphans, delinquents, outcasts, but only boys and girls of superior intelligence who exhibit very specific sociopathic tendencies. He then cultivates them into charming, well-educated, cultured, attractive adults who are capable of dangerous and horrible things.

--

Liz: You, this. Everything was a lie! My life was a lie! Every feeling, every memory. Say something to your wife, who’s dying in front of you. Say something.

Red: You saw what Katarina wanted you to see. She lied to you about everything.

--

Liz: Who do you work for? Tom: I have nothing to say. Liz: Who do you work for? [Liz breaks his thumb]

Kirk: Are you her father? [Kirk injects Red in the neck] Kirk: Are you her father? Answer me.

--

Tom: It was the shoes. Liz: What does that mean?

Ilya: It is a mystery, right? So, we give them the answer. Katarina: What does that mean?

Dom: Purposely stepping into the shoes of a man destined to be condemned as a traitor.

--

Liz: What has it done to you? Who could do such a thing? Finding you, stopping you. You’d think I’d be happy you’re gonna spend the rest of your life in prison. You’d think I’d get some satisfaction out of that, but I don’t because nothing. No sentence, no punishment, no revenge, could ever come close to making up for what you’ve done.

Red: You don’t have to do this. Kirk: Raymond, there’s nothing in this world you can tell me to change my mind.

--

Tom: He is not who you think he is. Goodbye, Liz.

♪ ‘Cause these are words we use To say goodbye ♪

--

Liz: He’s gone. My husband is gone. Red: Your husband never existed.

Liz: Kirk? Red: Gone. Liz: Dead? Red: Gone.

I decided to list these parallels between 4x8 and 1x19. Liz runs parallel with Kirk. Tom runs parallel with Katarina. Cover spouses. Red removed his mask for Kirk, whispering his real identity, and that identity is endgame. 

Quick summary with my lengthy prediction on Wicked Wolf.

All characters learned Raymond Reddington's true identity. That identity is Katarina Rostova. Their learning of this truth fits within the half-whole concept.

1. The Director. An affair between two people on opposite sides of the Cold War. 2. Tom Keen. A mother stuck between two men, a husband and a lover.   3. Ian Garvey. Two half-sisters, having different mothers. 4. Alexander Kirk. Red living a double life. Who’s your daddy arc. 

My prediction.

“He told you not to trust him.”

A truth: Elizabeth Keen’s sins. The whole truth: Tom Keen’s sins.

“Will you be able to forgive yourself?” Liz in opposite timeline to her mother. Stuck between two men (Ressler and Tom), this is hidden within her second memory manipulation. Liz in opposite timeline to her father. Framed by the Cabal with the assistance of her spy husband. Add in Agnes’ death and rebirth. 

I’ve stood by my belief that S7′s tagline is for Tom Keen’s character. They have a choice among several characters they coud lead with, but I’ve eliminated several due to their likeliness. I unchecked Howard because he’s in prison. I unchecked Scottie because that alignment would be too powerful. Kirk is possible, but I feel him less likely, and he wouldn’t offer much intel for Tom Keen. Matias Solomon is too close to Scottie. This leaves Gina.

Reasons why Gina would be perfect:

1. She fits the half truth - whole truth concept that runs through the series. Add in the double go-box. If the mark is tied to the Townsend Directive, which I’ve been considering, definitely. 

2. The triple parallel. Wicked Wolf having lost her husband, Liz having lost her husband, Gina having lost the man she fell in love with. She may have moved on from Tom by now, but she’d still be a great source for intel. 

3. Dialogue parallel, 6x22 back to 3x17.

Agnes: Mommy, who’s that funny-looking man? Liz: It’s a long story. But we finally have time to tell it. 

Liz: You killed him? Tom: Uh, no. Actually, Gina did, but that’s a long story. 

4. The Tom - Wicked Wolf opposite parallel. 

Tom: I want out. Gina, I never thought I would, but I do. We don’t save people, Gina. We watch them drown. And I’m tired of hurting people. I want to start pulling people up instead of holding them down. And I can’t think of a better place to start than right here with you. So, I could end this right now. I could go find the Major, and I could end him too. Or we can just agree to just walk away. I don’t come after you, and you don’t come after me or my family. Gina: I should have said yes that night in Budapest. Tom: No, Gina. Listen to me. I’m asking you to help me walk away. Please. Someday, maybe someone will do the same thing for you. 

Tom: Look, what I want you to know is that it happened because I made it clear that I’m out. I’m done with those people and that life. But there are things that I did, and - and - and I might be done with those things, but I can’t promise you that those things are done with me. And I can’t promise you that it’s not gonna happen tomorrow or next week or - or five years from now. And I would understand, frankly, if you didn’t want to deal with any of -

Woman: Early in the morning. Still dark. You’d called me. It was a simple assignment. I was to drive a couple of miles into the city. I was to meet Dominic at Vukov Station. Give him a package. I was to sneak out.

Woman: I had to bring him in. Pyotr was so suspicious. He knew what my old life had cost me. But I couldn’t let you down. By the time Pyotr woke up, I planned to be back in bed as if nothing happened. But I was wrong. He knew if I was slipping out at 4:00 a.m. that I was back in the game. He kept screaming, “You were done! You were out!” I insisted it was my last job. An old friend had asked me for a favor. A desperate friend, someone who I trusted - someone I could never turn down. But you weren’t really my friend. Were you?

5. The frame parallel, back to Minister D’s episode. My Tom-domino for Liz's Cabal frame parallels Katarina framing the real Red. I believe Ilya and Wicked Wolf parallel Gina and Tom - two spies that were in a romantic relationship. Gina willing to take the fall for Fokin’s murder. Wicked Wolf willing to do one last job for Ilya. I believe Tom and Liz parallel Ilya and the real Rostova - our Red. Not true love, true friendship. Ilya putting them in danger with Dom’s Belgrade plan. Tom putting them in danger, and often. I could add plenty more parallels, but it would take a while for me to find them. Perhaps another time. 

6. The letter, deposit box, and photograph parallel. 

Ted King: Near the end, Virginia wrote her a letter. Uh, I don’t know if she wrote any other letters. But by that time, she was in hospice, so she asked me to mail it. It was her way of clearing the air, I guess. Get some closure before she - 

Liz: We have looked through all of Zanetakos’ phone messages, all her records. There wasn’t a single message from Tom. Red: Perhaps they exchanged letters. Liz: There’s nothing between them. My husband is innocent. 

--

Ted King: Well, anyway. She gave me the address, and I mailed it. Ressler: Mailed it where? Ted King: Post Office box. Upstate New York. Ressler: Do you remember the address? 

Tom: The key in the lamp I know you found it. Take it to Radford Bank. Box number 3929. 

--

Agent: Guys, you might want to check this out. Found this by her bed.  [Photo of Tom Keen] Ressler: Give us a minute ... This is evidence. Listen. Keen, whatever you think this may mean, I admire what you’re doing, standing up for your husband. But I think we both know it’s time for you to protect yourself. 

Tom: He had a lot of family photos in his office, but only one placed where he could always see it. And I didn’t think there was anything special about it until I realized that it was taken by someone very special to him. Lena: It’s not what you think. I can’t help you.

Ted King: I found a photograph between the pages of a book in the bedroom. She said it was the only photo she had of her daughter, and that they’d had a falling-out and that she hoped that they would reconnect at some point. 

7. The Keen glasses. Back to the glasses in the suitcase Tom stole in 5x8, and Garvey’s glasses in 5x19. Gina reintroduced the Keen glasses in S3 when they pulled their diamond heist. 

8. Her lead-in to their final big bad, which I’ve been predicting for quite a while now. Furthered by Kat dropping Agnes off in the S6 finale. Gina could easily pull Scottie in as the next big bad just as she pulled her in for Liz’s 3x17 wedding. 

Add in Matias Solomon. 

9. My Tom domino theory. Gina could (quite literally) reveal all of them:

Understand, these are my theories. 

Gina and Tom were lovers. I believe their affair could’ve continued after Tom and Liz married in 2011. Tom worked for “Constantin Rostov.” I believe Gina acted as his handler or intermediary. Rostov issued Tom’s three passports through Red’s trusted forger when he claimed they were issued by Red. Tom murdered Victor Fokin, a kill commissioned by Rostov. He framed Red and Gina for this murder in an effort to protect Rostov as well as himself. As a result, Red framed Tom for the murder of Diane Fowler by planting his record brush. Gina revealing the truth about Fokin’s murder would lead to the Fowler frame. 

Tom was hired by Rostov to locate and safely return the woman he believed was his long-lost child, Masha Rostova. Tom believed Rostov was Liz’s father. His 1x22 “Your father’s alive” whisper was in reference to Rostov. Tom had Rostov’s fabricated DNA report all along, while claiming to have found it in Kirk’s SVR file. He trusted in this report as Rostov had, which gave him reason to turn against Red. Tom’s attempt to rescue Agnes in Gaia’s episode pushed Rostov to take stem cells from her. Tom gave Liz the DNA report to exchange her as a donor. An effort to save Agnes from the dangers of a stem cell donation. Incompatibility caused Rostov to collapse in the orange box. 

The Cabal targeted Tom when he turned himself in for killing the Harbormaster, Eugene Ames. They preyed on his desire to protect Liz, which led him to reveal her born identity. This reveal caused The Director to advance the timeline for his plan to return the world to a Cold War posture. They continued their con, having Tom take part in Red’s assassination attempt. I believe they told him about the Fulcrum, led him to believe Red was using Liz to get it, so he pulled her into his warehouse to inform her of this. I then believe he signalled for Gina to follow Liz from his warehouse to her meeting with Red, and it was she who took the shot, putting a bullet in Red’s chest rather than his head.

I believe Tom took Liz to Dr. Krilov to hide his involvement in Red’s shooting, and Liz pulled his gun on Connolly while under the influence of Krilov-administered drugs. I believe Ressler is the father of Agnes, and her conception is hidden within this second memory manipulation. I basically believe Tom played the fool, helping The Director frame Liz, which set her on the run for her life - when all he wanted to do was protect her. I believe he tried to confess this to Ressler, twice. Upon his initial return in S3, and again at the cabin before Solomon and his men lit it up. 

10. All these dominoes in mind, I end with Constantin Rostov/Alexander Kirk. The biggest piece of intel that would be of use to Wicked Wolf. She could either return with this little bit of information, or reach out to Kirk for more. Reaching out to Kirk for more would get her killed. Even moreso because I believe Kirk would inform Red of this. Returning if she learns anything of the Red-Rostov war. Kirk let him go because he’s Katarina Rostova. 

Tom’s whisper back to Red’s whisper. Keenler baby to Rederina. 

[cherry-slushie-cosplay-blog]

Freshman Year Quotes

Ok so I did a list of all the stupid shit I heard in my Freshman year of high school. Enjoy.

(T) - Teacher (AP) - Freshman Assistant Principal

FRESHMAN YEAR ----

"Any weeb brethren, see me after class I want to be friends." *class is totally silent* "*loudly* I have a seven inch penis." "I'm a farmer bitch I will throw my crops at you." "You can teach tiny cil- chilr- chilud- chiluden, wait what?" "I'm telling Jesus!" "Jesus already knows." "(T) Use your 5 sols! Haha, get it? Like soul?" "Bold of you to assume I have any at all." "HE CALLED ME THE N-WORD, HE CALLED- oh shit you're a girl my bad I'm just messing around trying to get someone in trouble. Have a nice weekend!" "Eins, zwei, drei, vier, fünf, sechs, sieben, acht...FUCK!" "How do you make an equilateral square?" "I think my back has scoliosis." "I've got a bag of chicken." "Why do you have a bag of chicken?" "Because. Why do you have a bottle with mangos on it?" "This- this is mango-flavored tea!" "AND THIS IS CHICKEN-FLAVORED BAG" "...and some condoms have spermicide which kills off the sperm. Don't ask me how I know all that, Mrs. ********." "Are you from Russian?" "Sit your ADHD-filled ass down." "If we were in hell, do you really think I would be here?" "(T) Yes." (T) "Is stupid written on your forehead?" "I don't know, is it written on yours?" "His forehead's big enough for it." "That looks like an orgy pile over there." "Why do you guys always sit behind me?" "If we want to kill you, you won't see it coming." "Is this what Julius Caesar felt like?" "You're so tiny! You look like a doll!" "And you look like a cock-riding motherfucker." " Technically, time is a construct." "Technically, none of this matters and we're all gonna die soon." "Will you two shut up please?" (T) "My 2019 has been completed, I made a student cry." (This was January 10th btw) (T) "As long as you do your best and turn that in, you'll be fine." "What if my best sucks and I get a bad grade?" "Ok that was good I'm gonna give you that." "I'm gonna put on black lipstick and go to sleep." *Aggressively singing Dream Daddy For Me* "What's that?" "A grapefruit." "Bitch that ain't a grape." "No, grapeFRUIT." "It looks like you put Kool Aid in an orange." "Dude it's called a grapefruit." "No, fuck you and your Kool Aid orange." "I ate a mouse dongle." "Why the fuck would you do that?" "I don't know, I just did." "Racism is my bitch. I bend racism over and take it from behind." "A function is an input and a function...oh wait hold on I messed up- stop laughing at me I got this." "James Charles did one of Bob Ross's tutorials on his forehead." "So he has a big forehead-" "Shut the hell up ***** no one cares." "The answer was D! D as in 'Dinosaur chicken nuggets'!" (T) "What are the first ten amendments?" "I know the ten COMMANDments." "No one cares, we're not in Christian school." "YES WE ARE HAIL MARY" (T) "Do your work or the Lord may strike you." *this was at the religious girl from the previous quote* "What time is it?" "It's fuckin uhhhhh noon o 5." "Noon o 5?" "I forgot the word twelve." "I SEE HEADLIGHTS" "Hm?" "Headlights is nipples." "If this is a test I'm gonna throw myself out the window. I was about to go to the hospital this weekend and I'm still gonna make it happen." "I won't T-Pose for dominance but I will screech and make your eardrums bleed." "Does anyone remember Llamas With Hats?" 4 people: "caAAARRLLLLL" "Pagans terrify me." "Why?" "Every pagan I know of is a furry." "sKeDaDdLe SkAdOoDlE yOuR dIcK iS nOw A nOoDlE" "NO NOT IN MATH CLASS" "Doodlebops." "shUT THE FUCK UP" "I watched that yesterday, I have it on DVD." "WHY THE FUCK DO YOU HAVE DOODLEBOPS ON DVD" (T) *random Chewbacca noise* "My brain is smaller than my dick." "If you feel stupid, you should." "What about King Solomon?" (T) "What has Solomon ever done for America?" "What have YOU ever done for America?" "Nothing should be in your mouth unless it's a banana." "What type of banana?" "A yellow one, duh." *laughter* "Or a green one, whichever you like more." (T) "For the people who I'm signing these for: are you going to the farm-" "YES WE FINNA BE COWBOYS" (T) "What y'all playing over there?" "Chess." (T) "I hope you lose." (T) "If you're stupid, it's your fault." (T) "Let's go guys!" "hoLD ON I'M SAVING MY POKEMON GAME" "There's people taking pictures down there - should I pour Monster on them?" "When you gave me my pencil I was like 'I like Zoe, she's nice' in my brain and then my brain somehow connected that to 'You tryna smash?' and another part of my brain said 'No, stop, she'd cut your dick off'." "That's the strangest intrusive thought I've ever heard from a friend." "How many of y'all think I'm gay?" *about 6 people raise their hands* "Ok then." "May I please go to the bathroom?" (T) "You just have to get out of here at any chance you get, don't you?" "I'm serious, I'm really hungry, does anyone have any food?" "I have lotion." "Fuck you." (T) "OH MY GOD SHE HAS TAP SHOES CAN YOU DANCE???" "...no" (T) "YOU STILL LOOK GOOD" *watching Sorcerer's Stone* "Who's at the window?" *ta-da it's Malfoy* "Oh it's a blonde-headed lesbian." "Shit fuck goddammit bitch pussy fucking Jesus Christ." "I have ibuprofen, you know." "Nah, I'm good." "I'm a lil loli short and flat~ My head is for pat- wait fuck what was it" "Hello~ my fuCKING HIP OW" "Are you ok?" "I popped my hip...Hello, my name is Elder Price~" (T) "Here, it's legal to marry your 2nd cousin twice removed." "I'm doing it." (T) "******** no-" "Fuck (insert name of school district), man. On my mom." "I wanna fucking die I hate this class." "No. I look like Jesus, I'm telling you no. Therefore, Jesus says no and you're not allowed to die." (T) "How else could we have solved this?" "With a calculator." "Did Diego steal his money from Dora?" (T) "I don't know, moving on." "All y'all talking about how your souls are dark black, mine is baby blue. It's brighter than your hair." "uwu my stomach hurts" "I'm serious I'm not on my phone." (T) "Oh really?" "I swear to GOD she wasn't!" (T) "Oooooohhh" "Holy shit Zoe you're gonna send **** to hell." "You were staring at me for like 20 seconds before calling on me!" (T) "No, my glass eye was staring at you. My real eye was over there seeing that stuff, and over here I didn't see sHIT." "I heard there's G-Spots in your ass, why don't you shove it up there and have some fun." "How about no?" "Suit yourself." "I don't like raw fish — it makes me sad." "100 senators!! Come ON, Sen - a - tors!" "Shut up go stick your head in a dick." "I want that Mormon Milk." "I'm begging you to stop talking." "I'm salivating for that salvation." "Shut the fuck up."

BONUS: SCHOOL'S POWER OUT

"My god that sun is brighter than Kirishima's smile." "Zoe is turning into Trina." "I'm breaking down~" "Come over here anyone who wants to take 'Golden-Hour Mental Breakdown' selfies and/or get Pocky." "Anyone who refuses to let their anxious child come home will be personally smacked by me with Zoe's copy of 'Half-Blood Prince'."

NORMAL SCHOOL

"Stab me in the ovary or whatever you said." "CORRODED ARTERY YOU ARE MALE" "Same difference." "Perfect boy lookin-ass- no homo." "What the fuck" "People think that Sherlock Holmes isn't real because he was written in a book. God was too but you don't see people denying HE exists, do you?" "Ok do a burpee." *burps loudly* "No a- you're a fucking idiot." "Heyyyyy Zoe, can we- holy shit is that Pornhub?" "How do you make a baby crawl in a circle?" "I don't fucking know." "Ok...do you know how to make one stop?" "When did you get here!?" "Couple minutes ago." "???" "I'm quiet and people generally don't notice I'm here." "...do you need a hug?" (T) "What'd you do this weekend?" "Some sewing." (T) "What'd you sew?" "Robes…" (T) "For what?" "*increasingly embarrassed* A costume." "From what?" "*very red by now* Harry Potter…" "Which character?" "*wanting to crawl into a hole* Draco Malfoy…" "*polite clapping from entire class*" (T) "He's on the road to alcoholism." "I'm doing a 21-Day challenge of not talking, if I do - punch me." (T) "Oooohhh this is gonna be fun." *knock at door* (T) "*presses face against door window* What's the password?" "bitCH GIVE ME BACK MY CAPRI-SUN" "It's not Capri-S-" "IT'S BOOTLEG CAPRI-SUN GIVE IT BACK" "Holy shit you turned the Jesus-freak gay." "What happens if you don't deletus the fetus?" "Then the abortion isn't completus." (T) Can you see where I'm going?" "To hell." "Oh look, a wasp." "KILL THAT SHIT" "Oh man I can't hear my eardrums." "How the fuck would you hear your eardrums?" "That's the POINT." "I like a p p l e s ~I like 'em big and juicy-" (T) "NO." "Everyone raise your hand if you want Mr. **** out of the room." *80% raises their hands* (T) "Even you?" "What do you mean 'even me'!?!?" "******? ******!!" "What?" "If I ask you a question will you be a douche?" "Probably." "Understandable." "What the hell am I reading?" "Words." "Mr. **** do you like donkey ducks?" (T) "I'm not even going to answer you." "I'm scared of homophobes." "Homophobophobia." "If gay is a slur does that mean that African American is a slur?" "Who has my mcfreaking phone? WHOMST HAS MY PHONE" (T) "Ooh free charger! *wraps cord around neck like a scarf*" "Whee whee mone me jam apple laff-yeti" "If someone is being homophobic, give them dyslexia." "Troom Troom life hack: if someone is harassing you — eat them." "Troom Troom banana hack: if someone is harassing you — shove a banana up their ass." (T) "Take that hat off." "I'm a gangsta." "I'm never gonna use this shit. Do you think I'm gonna go to McDonald's and say something like, I don't know, 'Oh riddle me dubious'? NO." "I'm gonna meticulate you until you get dyslexia." "What the fuck does that even mean?" "I'm gonna meticulate your rectum." "Please stop." (T) "See that girl? She likes bad boys." (T) "Ask her, she has tape." "What the hell has made you think I have tape?!?" "I don't care if you have 106% in this class, you can kiss my fat ass!" "No, PICasso." "I like Costco-" "No." "Holy shit *points at red train in movie watched in class* it's the Hogwarts Express." "Stop it." "Choo choo bitch we goin' to magic school." (T) "Guys Mr. ***** is in here, quick make it look like you're doing math." "3 + 7 = 9!!!" "Are you serious?" "MOVE IT, MUNCHKINS!" *shoves us apart and runs off* "Excuse-moi, I'm gonna beat her ass." "Oh my god someone's weave is on the floor." "Only at (insert school name here)." "THERE'S MORE THEY THREW IT OUT THE FUCKING WINDOW" "*handing out books* Take this dick, *throws book on student's desk next to me* and here you go. *places book gently on my desk*" "waIT TAKE THAT BACK I WANT A 'HERE YOU GO' WTF" (T) "-and so the corn salsa would be 20...thaaaat's not one of the answers oh no." "You fucking whore, happy birthday." (T) "How do you know you are college and career ready?" "Because Jesus loves me." "Last time I shit my pants was in middle school." "rePEAT THAT?" "I'm gonna show up tomorrow with AIDS." "Did you just say you'd show up with AIDS?" "Yeah." "Why??" "Cause HE put his spit on me." "I'm borrowing your chair. To sleep." "I'm straight as a line." "Oh? *makes loop-de-loops in the air* You mean THIS line?" (T) "I will decimate you. I will wipe your name from the earth." "Is the government making us take this test?" (T) "No, the district is making us take it." "Well the district can suck my ass." *calling every white person in a certain scene of Ernest Green a toothpick* "Is it just me or does ******** seem like he'd end up having a job at Chuck and Dale's?" "GIVE ME BACK MY PHONE I WANNA WATCH MERLIN" (T) "You boys don't know how to chop down a tree, do you? You wouldn't be able to do that." "Yes I would, I do it in Minecraft all the time!" (T) "Ok, remember to put your name on your paper." "No. I have no name. She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Voldemordita." "Stop it." "Shut up, both y'all gay, always smackin' each other's asses in class." (T) "Easy, Luigi, we're not watching a movie." (This was a sub for Civics class and he had just walked in 2 minutes prior. The student's name was not Luigi) "Hold on I'm gonna be Oprah: YOU GET A CALCULATOR, YOU GET A CALCULATOR!" "Y'know ***** still needs one." "F R I C K" *girl walks into a desk* "There's a desk there ****." "I KNOW fuck OFF" "I feel like we need to warn her about everything when she walks." "Watch out for life, ****." "Can we do it on paper?" (T) "No, this is not Burger King." *leaving the room* "Remember, cocaine is not your friend. I'll kick your ass." (T) "Wow! It's Good Friday, and you're talking about your baptism and stuff like that, and you said 'oh my fricking god'? For shame." (T) "I'm on a lot of drugs and alcohol right now and I can't feel anything." "Oh my GOD USE A YARDSTICK" "No." "MR. ******** I'M GONNA HURT HER" "Gonna stab her with the yardstick?" "I need bail money." "I need money PERIOD." "DRAW. A STRAIGHT.  L I N E." "NO, FUCK YOU" "You know you're gay when it takes you 3 tries to draw a straight line." "DON'T TAKE MY JOKE" "You definitely know you're gay if it still isn't straight after 3 tries." (T) "What would you do if someone came into your neighborhood?" "Who's neighborhood? Mr. Rodger's?" "I have 15 pets." "I have 13 siblings, does that count?" "No but it does mean that your parents need to learn how to use a fucking condom." "Hi my name is J. Michael Tater Tot welcome to the Dairy Dome." "Dyslexia? I thought you said...cannibalistic tendencies." "What?" "I couldn't think of anything that rhymed." "You need to flex seal your anus closed." "If you don't fucking shut up I will shave off your eyebrows using my toenail as a razor you cunt." "Sippy Cup looks depressed." "Sippy Cup, you going through some shit?" "Hit or Miss, I guess they never miss, huh? You got a boyfriend-" "Yep." "I bet he doesn't kiss ya!" "Haha nope." "Ew I look like Casper." (T) "...and we're going to write a paragraph." "Oh you're FUNNY." "I think I'm switch. Like, I'm good with being sub, but I'd like to dominate my bitch too. Like F.B.I get on the ground open your legs." "Ms. ******* that's really bright-" (T) "YOU'RE bright." Video: *talking about how important this song is to them* (T) "I don't care stop talking." "I peed on the desk again." "Key word: AGAIN???" "You should send ****** and I to get them." "That is a HORRIBLE idea." "What do you mean it's a horrible idea? You don't know me!" "What do you mean 'I don't know you?' We have gone to school together for almost 4 years." (T) "Look, I know you're obsessed with me, GET TO WORK." "He's harassing me." "You harassed me first. It's not harassment if you do it in self-defense." "You can have the benefit of my middle finger." "It's the progression of the climb of the rocket." (T) "Oh my GOOODDDD JUST SAY IT LIKE A NORMAL HUMAN BEING" "Fine. The speed." (T) "ExACTLY." "Oh look a firetruck's outside." "Whee whoo whee whoo- oh my god you're serious. Oh god it's (crappy fire department) jesus christ." "I think we need to potty train our classmates again." "AGAIN???" "Well, yeah. They're supposed to be." "'Supposed to' and 'are' are two different things." "Mr. **** can I put mascara on you?" (T) "No." "Whyyyyy?" (T) "Do I look like a Barbie doll?" (T) "Mascara girl is the one who's talking." "You act like I don't have a name!!!" "Do you?" "What the hell are you doing?" "It makes your eyelashes look nicer." "Yeah; easy, breezy, beautiful: Covergirl. Get with the program." "James Charles is QUAKING." "Sister shook." "Give me my paper." "Bitch I'm gluing my fingers together, I didn't fucking take it." "Do you have a charger?" "No, but I have a notebook full of English notes." "I don't have any round characters, all of mine are gay and sad."

BONUS 2: BIRTHDAY

"I'm sorry I don't have anything for you for your birthday all I have is Reese's and duct tape." "Wait it's your birthday??? HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO-" "NO STOP SHE DOESN'T WANT THAT" "Thank you." "You're welcome." (T) "Pay attention my dudes." *collective groaning from entire class* "*asking for tampons*" (T) "*holding a marker* I can throw another red one at you." "I don't get it. *sudden realization*" (T) "***** pick your jaw up off the floor, I was joking." "I'm tired of the word 'domain'." "Oh yeahhhh me too, cause we hear it a lot in physics now." "Domain, domain, domain; I hate it." "I'm in a domain of hating myself." "I'm joking, I love you." "I'm not joking, but I love you too anyways." "**** don't lose your Crocs again." (T) "Get that earbud out of your ear." "No, this is keeping me sane." "Why is my name 'desire'??? I put it as 'pee pee poo poo'!"

NORMAL SCHOOL

"I've finally done a fraction! I flipped it over, turned it around, smacked its ass and had it call me daddy." "PARDON???" "What?" (in Physics talking about electricity) "Ok positive top, negative bottom-" "ME?" "He said you can't learn if you burn but you do learn. You learn fire is hot. Also the sensation of being burned alive as you are consumed by flames." "*shows Thanos smut* Spoilers for Endgame that no one asked for." "Legend has it that if you work at the Dairy Dome, you get free tickets to Domegame." Have a marvelous Monday, a Terrific Tuesday, a Wonderful Wednesday, a...Thesis Thursday. I couldn't think of anything." "You look like a frog." (T) "And you look like a squid." "Someone today said I looked like a drug dealer magician. Would you like *sweeps off hat* MARIJUANA??? Or...*pretends to pull something out of hat* COKE??? Perhaps some *flourishes* *whispers* acid???" "I'm gonna Detroit Smash him to hell." "LGBT, let's get this bread." "My hero academia as in Aizawa can shove my ass up his head- wait hold on" "*talking about Ariel* She's hot but that doesn't excuse the fact that she put her entire species in jeopardy for some dick." (T) "Does anyone not have medicine in their bag that ******* cannot have while I look down at the floor because I dropped my pen?" (T) "*reaches for paper*" "Ah ah **** no swipin'." *in science class* "Nothing's happening but I saw that bitch SPARK and I'm terrified." "I'm basically teacher today, your assignment is to do nothing. YOU get an A." "SHUT UP MOTHERFUCKER I'LL EAT YOUR ANUS THEY DON'T CALL ME RECTUMUS PRIME FOR NOTHING" "EXCUSE ME" "What was the word again?" "David Hasselhoff?" "What, no???" "This is why you shouldn't scratch yourself, here." "*instantly shoves necklace in mouth*" "I wouldn't use that as a chew fidget, I got it off the ground in Louisiana." "*chews even more aggressively*" (T) "Don't mess with me I will throw something at you, I played softball for 14 years." "Really???" (T) "Yeah. I was the captain biatch." "James Charles looks like the dragon from Shrek." "***'s touching my wenis." "Gay fantasies don't really matter." "Yeah, I mean, did you see the way that Tony and Cap looked at each other in Endgame?" "When he was, a young boy, his father, took him to the dark lord, to kill the principalofawizardachool" "He said son when, you grow up, will you b-" "HE SAID WILL YOU, GETSHANKEDINABATHROOM-" "Watch out: I have peanut butter and a knife!" (T) "All you need is at least a 60% to pass the test-" "BOI I GET 40S AND 30S IN YOUR CLASS AND YOU KNOW IT" (T) "So you used to go to (other school name)?" "Yeah. But people growling and barking at me was a little much." (T) "Were they furries?" "Dude, tornadoes in Kansas are no joke." "But you go to Oz." "THERE AIN'T NO YELLOW BRICK ROAD AFTER A TORNADO" "Uh, yeah! Yellow brick road to HEAVEN." "Toto isn't god” "You awakened something you didn't want to awaken." "Is it god??? Is it Totoro? Remember to pay your taxes or Hong Kong will come eat you." "Today's weather is cloudy with a chance of rectal prolapse." (T) "Who's at the door?" "It's ***." (T) "Who's ***?" "***. Your student." (T) "*opens door* Who are you?" "I'm nobody." "Who is commander in chief of the military? My  p e n i s" "Are those grandma shoes??? Can I  e a t  them???" "She sounds like a fetus screaming for extra guac at Chik-Fil-A." "WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN" "*singing the Boku No Pico theme off-key in a loli voice*" "I will hit you." "I'd feel bad for you but you have a 69% and that causes you to get a D and I can't look that over." "Do you ever wonder where babies come from? Cause I don't. All you have to do is pee into a lady's Digornio." "rePEAT THAT??" "Don't forget to degrade your dog." "Imagine a world: where you have 2 fetuses hanging from your eyebrow."

BONUS 3: GIANT, END-OF-THE-YEAR CIVICS TEST

"Why the fuck is Christmas a national holiday???" (T) "Ok, the president during WWII was...Roose-" "-A PARKS" (T) "Are you even paying attention?" (T) "What happened on September 11th, 2001?" "9/11!" (T) "We're gonna need you to be a little more specific, buddy." (T) "What's a state that borders Canada?" "I deadass was about to say Arizona, I need sleep." "WHAT is your name?" "*****." "WHAT is your quest?" "To clap the best pussy out there." "*through laughter* What is your favorite color?" "The color of the next pussy I'm gonna crunch." "I got a Voltage from the ROTC room, and I dropped it and someone said 'OOH', picked it up and yeeted with it." "WHAT THE FUCK I'D SHIT ON THEIR HOUSE" "Can we play a song after our presentation?" (T) "As long as it's not like 20 minutes like an Allman Brothers song." "Huh?" (T) "You know how when you have an acid trip, people tell you to listen to the Allman Brothers?" "..." (T) "I'm old." (T) "If this eye starts drooping, there was something in the brownie." (T) "*teaching us Piccolo Mini*" "You just made me feel dyslexic." "YOU GUYS WANNA KNOW THE TEA??? I'M THE REAL HOE" *applause from class* "BITCH WE BEEN KNEW" "*unintelligible*" (T) "What?" "*still unintelligible*" (T) "I still didn't hear you." "You talk like your handwriting." "I WILL THROW THIS CROC AT YOU" "I will literally pay a dollar for one." "I will literally eat these." "Petunia is not a phone." "Electronic device, then." "She's not an electronic device, I gave birth to her." (T) "**** that's the whitest you've ever sounded." "My dingaling is messed up." "Mine too." (T) "Ok so say you wanted aides-" "I DON'T WANT AIDS WHAT THE HELL" (T) "IN THE CLASSROOM. CLASSROOM AIDES. HELPERS. "Can we talk while doing this?" (T) "No, this isn't Burger King." "What is your obsession with Burger King????" "HE'S SPRAYING IT DOWN. HE'S SPRAYING IT DOWN. HE'S PUTTING THE WHITE NECTAR ON THE RAMEN SINK" "Have you ever seen a 14 year old looking badass?" "Have you ever seen a beaver chomping down on a carrot? Cause I wanna see that." "I don't wanna go to Papa Louie's Arcade, Papa Louie can pop a cap in your ass." "Micheal does a Thanos Snap in season 14." "Cas, I don't feel so good." "NO" "Your Crocs are in sport mode." "My cock is hard." "THAT IS NOT WHAT I SAID" "It's ok lil diglett I'm gonna evolve you." (T) "Stop it." "I'm gonna evolve you it's fine, you're weak but you're gonna get better. *throws stress ball at teacher*" (T) "******* looks like Ted Bundy" (T) "He's falling asleep. Hey, ****, are you sad you can't have an abortion?" "What???" (T) "If you don't like high school relationships, who's that guy you keep making out with in the hallway?" "*pointing at random places on the map in the civics classroom, threatening to deport each other to random places*" "You're jiggling my titties." "*half the class is singing I Write Sins Not Tragedies*" "I love you!" "Shut it, I'm doing a presentation." "I love you!!" "Stop." "I love you!!!" "God damnit, *******, I'm gonna hit you." (T) "If you drop any f-bombs during the presentation, I'm gonna kill you." "Bottom, take the apple." "I'm not black, I'm O.J." "Balls. That was the word." "HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET 'BALLS' FROM 'THE BUCKS ARE WINNING THE FINALS'??" "Who's this? Tom? No I don't wanna streak with you. Stranger danger." "Why is it called Field Day if it's only 2 periods?" (AP) "I- That's actually a good question." "ALRIGHT THIS IS WHAT WE NEED TO DO-" "*gets literally kissing distance from him* *salutes* Yes sir?" "We're playing cornhole." "Stop laughing, how is cornhole inappropriate?" "Mr. **** this is the type of yardstick that could take your kneecaps. Do you want me to take yours?" (T) "I'd like to see you try." "Is that Ratatouille?" "Ratatouille isn't the rat. That's Remy, you insolent fuck." "I'm gonna call you the 'G' word." "What's the 'G' word?" "Jew." "That's…porny." "...send it to me." "Where you going?" "To hell." "WHY" "*shrugs* Seems fun." "You see, this is why I need to work with you. I'm your insurance."

BONUS 4: FIELD DAY

(T) "Are you part 1 or part 2?" "Uh…" (T) "Top line or bottom line?" "Bottom- no, top- uhhhhh…" "He looks like a top." "I still don't understand why we fucking dropped Bohemian Rhapsody for a song from fucking  T W I L I G H T." (T) "*throws a marker at the Assistant Principal*" *various cheers and "OHHHHHH"s from the class* (AP) "Are you actually serious." Not a quote but in the 2nd to last week of school, we spent almost the entirety of 4th period Algebra (including the teacher — he started it) throwing dry-erase markers at each other and didn't even stop when the AP (seen above) came in. (T) "*walks through the middle of the room*" "FIRE" *8 people pelt markers at him* "Wait you guys realize he's gonna throw all of those back, right?" "I have a D I'm hanging on the edge my dudes." "I did a math? I did a math!!!" "You did meth?" "YES!!!" "*gets head shoved out of window* OW! FUCK, ****** MY TIT" "You exude strong Kenny energy." "Why?" "Cause you die a lot? Cause your heart was replaced with a baked potato? Cause your family's poor?" "*laughing so hard we can't breathe*" "*leaves the cafeteria to calm down from laughing too hard*" "I'm having elementary school flashbacks." "Shut your social justice warrior ass up." "You ok?" "I stabbed myself." "Sorry, only girls get it. Also, this is my last customer today." "Hold on, if it's only girls, why does HE get it?" "Hi." "OH SHIT YOU'RE A GIRL MY BAD"

NORMAL SCHOOL

“Did I just witness a drug deal?” "Why do you look like a dad?" "I need some weed in my system again, I'm fucking drained." "There's a fucking big-ass run in my tights — I'm gonna eat my own ass and then some." "Hi I'm ***** and Mr. **** can suck my 13 inch dong. My Long John Silver." "This ignorant pickle of a person can die." "This cashew of a long dong. Cashews look like telephones." "A shirt says Mr. **** can suck my magnum horse, my stallion." "His mom should've fucking swallowed." "Spit his ass in a Dixie cup." "I will tattoo my eyes shut." "I'm talking about this mongoose man that's called Mr. ****." "Can you speak some Spanish?" "Hola, como estas, sugma." "Sugma?" "Suck my fuckin' balls lmao" "It's your sugar daddy. *shows picture of Andrew Jackson*" "It's Mr. **** as a woman." "That's fucking Christopher Columbus." "*howling laughter*" "I was just thinking 'have it stop raining so that I don't have to walk in it', but then I remembered I have work today so it should keep pouring. The more the sky cries, the less I cry. Unless I'm on drive." "Excuse me sir, *raises leg* my penis has fallen off." "I pray you get AIDS." (T) "Please throw away your sheet music, it's illegal to copy sheet music and I don't wanna go to jail." "*loud smack* I am so sorry, I didn't mean it to be that loud! Come here baby boy, let me give you the sweet taste of my mother milk." "It's not mother anymore, it's daddy now." "Dude what if you were born with a set of words that if said, would implode your testicles." "Bomb go boom, Mormons go extinct." "MR. **** YOU TOOK OUR NOODS" "DON'T TAKE THE NOODS" "NOT THE NOODS!!!" "****, I thought you were Catholic." "The pencil's black." "Like my ass-cheeks." "Someone stole it!!!!" "Like ****'s virginity."

BONUS 5: WATCHING INSIDIOUS (FOR SOME FUCKING REASON)

*kid falls off ladder* *various banshee screeches from students* "They're kissing AGAIN. This movie is NOT appropriate." "I'm hearding weeeesssst~ I don't know what to dooooo~ " That's not how you make a superpowered baby. You kill the mother and put her on the ceiling." "Wait, pause. What the hell?" "F.B.I, open up." "IT'S DALTON." "PUT A CHAIR ON THE DAMN DOOR" "HOW WOULD A CHAIR WORK AGAINST THE DEMON" "He's in a deep sleep. Wake him up with true love's kiss." "It's a pedo-demon! Everyone run!" "He's cheating on her." "What if this was linked to Supernatural?" "Ooh she's echoing now." "My legs are shaking bruh." "Is that blood on the window?" "No, it's a tree." "SMACK THE CHILD"

NORMAL SCHOOL

"I figured out why I'm so quiet today." "Oh, really?" "Yeah, *shows trembling hands* I'm on vibrate." "I can't wait to go to church."

BONUS 6: LAST DAY OF SCHOOL

"The first thing I ate when I came to this country, it was in the airport and it was Doritos." (T) "They gave me the shortest teachers' gown they had. I have a baby gown." "That isn't a happy little bush." "IT'S. TREE." "Hello ladies, *winks* *blows kiss*" "I'm GAY." *I Will Survive playing really loudly* "******* you're not in our friend group so get the FUCK OUT." "Now I can swear! FUCK Y'ALL BITCHES I'M GOING TO EAT YOUR KNEECAPS" "Oh shit it's an end of the year fight!" Four kids got into a fight at the same time and one got tazed."

[dinoalexander]

The Semi-Quotable 2017 Part 4

I never had his problem with Livejournal. I’ve had several problems but never this... Part 4.

——

"Note to terrorists: During WWII, London endured this thing called 'The Blitz'. Google it. They will endure your petty stupidity. Note to Trump: During WWII, London endured this thing called 'The Blitz'. Google it. They will endure your petty stupidity. Keep calm and carry on." -Kevin

"When you scroll to find your name, don't see your name for a really long time, and wonder if you could have squeezed just a couple more fucks in there. Missed fucking opportunities!" -Laura

Jay: "Who doesn't love a Brazilian steak?"

Joe: "Who doesn't love a Brazilian ass!"

C: "Who doesn't love a Brazilian?"

"As soon as American Idol came to America, we were all fucked." -Jenna

"This isn't football, it's boy bands!" -Q

"To quote the great philosopher Cornell Haynes Jr., it's getting hot in herre." -C

"I'll always love UNC but Gonzaga destroyed Tokyo." -Austin

"Make chicken salad out of that chicken shit!" -Q

"If one more person adds me to LulaNotLemon group without asking me, I swear I am going to find every pair of leggings on this island and burn them in a huge bonfire at Bayview Park. #YouveBeenWarned" -Shannon

"Stranger at Walmart just coughed in my face. So I have two, maybe three days to live." -Q

"I got some antibiotics for the bug I've had for over a week. I think it's adorable that CVS colored the antibiotics green for St. Patrick's Day and they taste like mint. I think those lazy bastards just gave me a container of Tic Tacs." Klauss

"I used to date somebody with lazy eye, but she was seeing someone on the side." -Rammson

"Is that a thing? Because I just made it a thing." -Jordan

“What is the current bar for "most awkward human on the planet" in the Guinness Book of World Records? Cause I wouldn't mind getting something back for all my suffering.” -Christina

“You’re like a WetJet with a lab degree!” -Q, on cleaning up the ER doc’s messes

“Supporting my husband’s love for this awful team.” -Kyle

“THANKS FOR NOTHING, CRABTREE!” -Robin

"Had homey on some Globetrotter shit." -Jabari

"NBC: Where Every Night at 8 PM is Fuckin' Christmas." -Klauss

“Diane, it’s ‪Tuesday, August 1st‬ and I’ve stumbled upon quite a few mysteries here at Fashion Peaks. Tully the horse has been sent to the glue factory, The Ascension has a very peculiar taste in music, and my partner, Deputy Dango, has been abducted - possibly by extraterrestrials. That leaves me with two questions: One, who kidnapped Fandango? Two, why didn’t I just call you instead of record this?” – Tyler Breeze

“Wait, so that giraffe still hasn't given birth? Have we explored the possibility that the zookeeper just overfed her a few months ago and lied instead of admitting the mistake?” - Nedeff

“Just finished watching ‪Die Hard‬ for the first time (we can discuss later). ‪Die Hard‬ is 100% not a Christmas Movie. Just because it ends with Christmas Music doesn’t make it a Christmas Movie.” – Dan O’Toole with the most wrong hot take of 2017

“We're still gonna get near-daily articles trying to Understand The Le Pen Voter though right” @pattymo

“Of course any portrayal of a real-life figure is about so much more than physical resemblance, but come on guys: how did they NOT cast Christopher Plummer as J. Paul Getty in the first place?” – Richard Roeper

“Danny Ainge the only American who can outsmart a Russian.” – David Dennis Jr.

“The Yankees haven’t been in the playoffs in a while so I forgot how punchable Brett Gardner’s face is” – Brad Rutter

“HELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” – Dougie Jones

“There’s no fucking way he sold 200 Streamdaddy’s” – Prez on IYH

“By far the most bizarre trivia fact about Dean Stockwell to me is that he’s a trained martial artist.” – Allison Pregler

“Don’t Worry, We’ll Let You Know When The Last Surviving World War II Veteran Dies” - ClickHole

“And I thought Ashley Judd’s sleaziest boss was Benjamin Horne.” – Ken Jennings

“Because hey, if you lose $35 Million one time, try try again!” – Scott Keith on Vince McMahon relaunching the XFL

“I don't recommend going to Wal-Mart 2 days before Christmas. And by "2 days before Christmas", I mean ever.” – BFG

“Pepsi: That was the biggest PR blunder of the week, year maybe.

United: Hold My Beer

Sean Spicer: LEEEEEEEEEERROOOOOOOY JEEEENNNNNNKINS!” - @Lance_Bradley

“IF THE TITANIC HAPPENED TODAY: “Sir, we’re heading straight for that iceberg. / That’s a fake iceberg. / Sir, it’s a mountain of ice and it’s right in front of us. / Full speed ahead! / Sir, we just hit the iceberg and now we’re sinking...Sir?...Women & children first, Sir...” – Jeff Daniels

“Hot on the heels of his triumphant rebranding of MySpace, Justin Timberlake brings sexy back to the NFL.” – Kevin M.

“Derek Jeter is so freaking hot. I hate the Yankees!” – Greg’s friend Kat’s mother

"Marty Jannetty couldn't buy a date..." thankfully 24 years later Marty will make sure his dates don't share his DNA...” - Dane

“Next year's State of the Union should have an In Memoriam montage with everyone who's been fired.” - Nedeff

“What can bring an end to an angry dance montage? FUCKING ‘NAM!” – The Cinema Snob

“IT’S NOT ABOUT THE BUNNY! ………… Is it about the Bunny? ………. No, it’s not about the bunny.” – Tommy “Hawk” Hill

“WARREN WHAT DID YOU DO!?!?” -Jimmy Kimmel after the Oscar Best Picture fuckup

“GOODBYE AOL INSTANT MESSENGER GO FUCK YOURSELF” – The Iron Sheik

“A producer pitches a show to an NBC executive.

"Wow me."

"Okay- it's The OJ Simpson Trial... but wacky!"

"Go on..."

"It's a procedural comedy where we don't know whether he did it until the end of the season!"

"But... this is a murder, right? Someone dies?"

"Oh, yes- good 'n' dead."

"I see... and who were you thinking would play the role of the is-he-isn't-he murderer?"

"The Trinity Killer from Dexter, John Lithgow."

"Dick Solomon?! GREENLIGHT THAT ISH" - Fard

“EVERYTHING TRUMP TOUCHES DIES!” – Rick Wilson

“Can’t believe Weinstein didn’t go with the old “locker room talk” defense.” – Matthew Yglesias

“So here's what we're gonna do. Without my knowledge, my husband came to you for a loan of $20,000. You were nice enough to give it to him. But he should never have been gambling like that. I'm gonna pay you back. Now, at my bank, where we make less than one percent interest on what little money we have, people would be turning cartwheels just to get 25 percent interest on any loan, and that is what I'm generously gonna give to you right now, $25,000. That is my first, last, and only offer to you. What kind of world are we living in where people can behave like this? Treat other people this way without any compassion or feeling for their suffering? We are living in a dark, dark age, and you are part of the problem. Now, I suggest you take a good, long look at yourselves because I never want to see either of you again.” – Janey-E Jones

“If professional wrestling isn't real why have I spent the past hour watching Bobby "The Brain" Heenan videos quietly alone in my hotel room?” – Tom Arnold

Gordon Cole: “We’re not anywhere near Mount Rushmore.”

Albert Rosenfield: “I brought a picture for you.”

Gordon Cole: (Looks at picture) “There they are Albert, faces of stone.”

“This is pretty exciting to be apart of this nomination for @VeepHBO especially since my mom watched the entire last season of Madame Secretary and was confused why I was never on it.” – Paul Scheer

“Nice to know that while other industries are turning to tablets and screens, game show hosts are still plugging away with those little cards.” – SC Duncan

“We will remember the unappreciative, ungreatful, evil, awful, Anthem owl men and the man who’s fond of slapping nuts on how they treated us on our exodus from Impact Wrestling YEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!” – Matt Hardy shooting on Double J’s business practices

“Steve Bannon gets tonight’s Last Word – which for him, is the complete silence of utter humiliation” – Lawrence O’Donnell

“SHOVEL YOUR WAY OUT OF THE SHIT!” – Dr. Lawrence Jacoby

“Sorry I took your suit. I mean, you had it coming. Actually, it turns out it was the perfect sort of tough love moment that you needed, to urge you on, right? Don't you think? Let's just say it was. Look, you screwed the pooch hard. Big time. But then you did the right thing: you took the dog to the clinic, you raised the hybrid puppies... alright, not my best analogy. I just wanted to mention that I think with a little more mentoring, you could be a real asset to the team. There's about 50 reporters behind that door, real ones, not bloggers, so when you're ready...” – Tony Stark

“In the Alabama Senate Race, the predicted result among many pundits was a narrow margin of victory. Roy Moore himself, however, was hoping for a shocker in the teens.” – Nedeff

“Sports Illustrated called and said I was probably going to be Sportsman of the Year, but it was going to take a long photo shoot and interview. I’m not proud of my recent perm and have a interpretive dance class at the interview time so I turned it down! No Thanks SI!!” – Noah Syndergaard

“Wow, if I had invested $1,000 in Bitcoin last week, today I would have... still no idea how Bitcoin works.” - @StephenAtHome

“In a confusing twist, Han Solo's name will be revealed to be Luther Campbell.” – Jeff Gerstmann

“Lordy, I hope there are tapes!” – James Comey

“This is the water, and this is the well. Drink full, and descend. The horse is the white of the eyes, and dark within.” – The Woodsman in Episode 8 of Twin Peaks: The Return 

“We need some loving profiles of a small town in northern Alabama that thinks obstruction of justice is fine because Drumpf respects cops.” – Matthew Yglesias

“Why are Greg Gumbel and Seth Davis sitting at a desk for ants?” – Andrew Bucholtz

How many more of these things will Tumblr tolerate? Stay tuned...

[dwestfieldblog]

23 YEARS IN BOHEMIA

Time to exorcise some sober early morning paragraphs as Orpheus descends again...Saved by an angelic intervention perhaps, or more likely, demonic. I messed up a banishing ritual and we will never have that feast...Air gives life toFire. Crash and burn. Hard to switch off the heart unless one is in hospital. An hour long session of Healing, lying on a floor blindfolded last week uncovered deep memories with primal fury, tears and a revelation...now I am back in the cosmic game. It was either that or leave my body to medical science fiction. Insanity chosen on the flip of a golden coin, now gold runs in my veins like electricity. Almost not a metaphor.

The Healing had the strange effect (for me) of leaving my thoughts seemingly capable of holding onto negative thinking for two seconds only and then letting them go. Nice work, see how long it lasts. Next month I will be getting creative with my darkness with Holotropic breathing to unblock the shadow, Sounds like fun eh?  Welcome to another long speed written manic collage....

9 songs into the next treble cd, but now the blessing of the Muse is removed. Some girls should be spanked hard with passion every night before bed. All hail Algolagnia, No afterglow, now only ash. I swear by my heart Not to fall in Love again, it is no good for my mental health. Arf. Fnord. Shameful how much I truly cared, but Free at last, freedom from hope, Lucifer rising in my horoscope and all I have left are empty words. Words for spells...thank the Lord for spellczechers on the computer. Somewhere True, we know our fears are not real.

Putting the arse into catharsis, I have finally put more songs on the net via TUMBLR, (27 of 'em) a fair variety of moods...of course I will not be putting the best stuff online, not until the diagnosis becomes terminal. Don't much trust doctors but will believe my body. The war for peace continues. From the Kingdom to the Crown

I seem to have not really slept much since early February, but some years life just gets too INTERESTING to sleep. Enervated, splitting and colliding like the atom I used to be. Desire to Do and Be simultaneously chasing a thought and a feeling. Home-made psychedelic adrenalin, recurring parallel day dreams or else the synaesthesia kicking in once more....Lying down for thirty minutes and switching off at 2pm helps. In reverie God told me again last night I was a chosen one...well, someone has to do it. Another scarecrow messiah crucified on a hill to keep away the crows of false prophets who seek to feed on the seed of Man. Or something. O, I still miss amphetamines, still tempted. Been way too long. And 'Some weird sin just to relax with'...Did you ever read about the female fan letter about her desiring a man with the mind of Leonard Cohen and the body of Iggy Pop? They replied, sent a double photo from a studio...she didn't answer. Arf.

Giving up smoking Again but 'the filter is the best part, that's where they put the heroin'. Denis Leary said that and he's still alive...or if you prefer,'Women and heroin are both the ultimate escape'. Hugh Cornwall. Five minutes and you're almost dead. Textbook definition of stupidity is not being able to assimilate new information and process it to recall and use. Or repeating mistakes without learning from them. Dumb is as dumb does, welcome to my world. Just too ugly and lost. Where will you spend eternity? (Old evangelical (evil angels) christian slogan).

Almost strange to be still writing blogs when disconnected from news of the daily world. There is still some linkage to normal reality but I remain in deep longing for the day when five of the most famous leaders on this planet face Absolute Justice in This lifetime for the chaos and murdering shit they have done...but...it has felt so damn Good to switch off the reportage after all these years. The next step will be to be able to go back and listen, watch, read the news without becoming involved, Just evolved. Trump, Putin, Erdogan, Kim Jong Un, and Asshat in Syria. Remarkable that you are alive. Congratulations. Happy to see Mladic has finally been sentenced to life in prison for his war crimes, it took long enough. And Mgabwe ousted at last. Get him up against the wall. Sic semper tyrannis.And may justice be served on Halliburton, Monsanto, Biderbeck and Zuckerberg next year...Julian Assange appears to be aiding those working against the West, (yes, that includes Duck Fart.) Staying too long in an embassy can make most folk a little weird. Hello Baron Beran.

Going back to the island for Sol Invictus/Christmas, Great Britain with all her Little Englanders. Dreading seeing the faces of Boris Johnson, Jacob Rees Mogg et al gurning and talking puerile bullshit. My country is ruined, Europe as any type of 'spiritual' centre is falling, America is shamefully fecked like a dog by their insane choices. You stupid dumb bastards, now EAT what you have made. Wash it down with your own blood and piss. Other countries are rising, tasting the possibilities of mass control; Ready. This is happening all around us. And as for the individuals left...All we become is all we are.

Be yourself, you will never be someone else..

Meanwhile...those who remain outside, remain outside. With no thoughts of being saved in the usual sense, but emotionally detached and thus spiritually rising, crossing over...Fooling ourselves (perhaps) until it is real. Fake it till you make it. 'Experience is knowledge made conscious of itself'. Aleister Crowley wrote that and knew of what he spoke. Ignorance will never convince knowledge says this middle aged idiot.

(I seem to have passed from a thirty year teenage lifestyle to menopause overnight. Missed out on being an adult with a usual life of mortgages and happy family tensions. Perhaps I should buy a Harley Davidson and flirt with 24 year old girls. Or grow up fast and take to bed the first grandmother who thinks I'm worth her time.) Or teach in a nunnery...

How many times can a heart be broken? As many as it takes To break the cycle of destruction Till creation awakes. AKA/anebo, or 'You want it? You got it You break it –you bought it'         Arf.

Anyway, now all that is out of my lunar system...'time' dilates and...back to the Real stuff...Body and mind as a temple, holy or otherwise...Here we go...

Matter at a low rate of vibration is solid...at a high rate of vibration it is subtle. Good health in all areas means raising your vibrations... meditate on imagination and Will. I will see how wise that is when I get my first winter cold and deny it existence. People allow themselves to become hooked on their weaknesses, chasing the thrill or playing the victim.

'We should not protect the weak and vicious from the results of their own inferiority'...To pity another man is to insult him'. Think Nietzsche wrote that. Sounds like him but now my memory is ablaze and random sparks star the dark early morning sky. Total oblivion into the Absolute. FREEDOM. And I'm gone. More coffee....'God is a fire in the head!', cried Nijinsky, on the cusp of insanity. (Crowley, Nietzsche and Nijinsky, I am on a highly pretentious roll here eh? 4.15 am...Let's see what other brilliant lost souls can resurface in this spontaneous flash flood....)

Capture Points....

Ego... defined as a set of immature traits which start in infancy and are carried into adulthood, including a feeling of being omnipotent and deserving of special privilege; great difficulty tolerating frustration and a very high drive which causes one to jump into activity suddenly and impulsively. The infant within needs to be satisfied. Sounds familiar eh?

'Individual creatures tend to stagnate when they have discovered a comfortable ritual of habit'. Colin Wilson.

Addicts, (of one type or another) secretly despising themselves, are likely to respond to another person who approaches them in a loving manner by wondering what this person wants, assuming that this person is a sucker ripe for manipulation, or deciding that the person is crazy. In this way, they fail to receive the praise, warmth and tenderness they crave, and instead, end up lashing out at those who try to love them.

‘”...hedonic arousal of an organism (pleasure or pain) can, with repetition of a stimulus or class of stimuli, lead to a build up of arousal by the organism which opposes the original stimulus....this can create dynamics typical of addiction.' Richard Solomon. Therefore, a person repeating a pleasurable activity over and over again will create in their nervous system an opposing sense of pain. Or, as the song says; 'If it makes you happy, then why the hell are you so sad'? Don't wanna go to rehab. So don't.

The problem with mind altering drugs, is that they appear to lower the levels of serotonin in the brain, the very chemical needed to focus and evolve. Meditation and magick work because of the extra effort required to concentrate and raise energy. Humans get bored way too easily, this in turn creates a deep sense of unease...which leads to mental landslides of panic. Total (or as much as can be achieved and maintained) focus on the work of Now and total (see brackets above) open free surrender, are the only ways to connect with realities of understanding the individual's place and role in creation. Which is 'technically' our imprinted function.

Asbergers, Autism and ADD are basic human traits, there is always a  laziness to attempt focus because the mind wants to run wild. But many types of 'freedom' become a free fall/floating trap when not used for evolving or Being. Because people get bored, most of us run around trying to be very useful or search for temporary excitement, which never seems to go deep enough. Surprise.

This is a peculiarity of the human imagination that is only now being recognised by psychology; that when it is denied active, creative expression, it seeks out any powerful stimulus, no matter how terrifying or negative. The human mind craves movement, any movement. Boredom or emptiness allows the mind to fill up with unused energy...this produces the usual effect of preventing the instincts from doing their quiet unobtrusive work. The feelings are frozen. The desire for strong feelings -the most basic of psychological needs -becomes a kind of panic; guilt and misery are preferable to boredom. What the mind really craves is the sense of vastness and wide openness, of other times and other places, of meaning.'Long quote but says way better what I would like to. Colin Wilson again, from The Occult, 763 pages of fascination...he also wrote the following...

'Certain people possess natural 'magical' faculties, but unless these are subservient to intellect and imagination, they will tend to be used in the service of negative emotion –malice, envy and so on.' Most people possess magical faculties. Most people are, fortunately unaware of it.'

Man is defined by the ability to love. The soul is refined by the love it's made of.Said a low class poet yesterday trying too hard to live up to his own belief system and almost failing. 'Basically a poor human being', says his end of year report card. Poor little ghost boy. Hmm. Neurosis is caused by sexual stasis...orgasm discharges the sex energies and eliminates the neurosis. Temporarily. Think that was Reich. But anyway...

Heaven, Hell, demons, ghosts, angels, we are our own...mass projection, a spontaneous manifestation of the forces of the subconscious. Like all magick. Parallel realms are imprinted with thought made real focused or random...or so, based on my own experiments, I choose to believe. You are on your own. You are really not on your own. And that perception, like everything else, is your Choice. Practice makes...imperfection less ridiculous. And that is as far as optimism as I will go this morning.

Use your body to create forms, use your spirit to transcend forms. Unify body and spirit to activate the art of peace. It comes. Maintain it as you would a flower.

Written by candle and computer light, listening to full volume live Swans at 3 to 5.30 am on a school day (mostly the sex pulse of The Glowing Man live on repeat, Mother Sky by Can, updated). Window open to share the headphone music with neighbours. My students will suffer a red eyed rant later today, but it's all English eh? (When not babbling fake Enochian.) A word about Swans for anyone new here. If you enjoy disintegrating into ecstacy, buy everything by them. The Total Sound of Nature and the Universe, surrender and rejoice, no regrets. O, I wish I had some whisky here. But I didn't smoke and I didn't drink, I found some new things to think. Found some old books to read, refused to want the one I need. But yearning for union. Deeply and truly.

Saturnalia soon...and on the 17th December, I will have been in Prague for 23 years. A deep thank you to all those who made my alchemy here so infused with their kindnesses, may you live in fine health and learning.

Practice your etheric stretches...it helps with what you wish to achieve.'Energy equals Mass multiplied by the velocity of the square of light'. Use that as long mantra, go into it...Trust me, I'm a (leave the blank empty as the Void). And Happy multicoloured Christmas/Sol Invictus with blood on the snow in red crosses and a snake spiralling up the staff to the victory of the Light.

See you in '2018' perhaps.. Stay well.....

YOU. KNOW.

NOW. BE

LOVE.

[psycheswritings]

Nothing’s Fair in Love and War - Five

Title: Nothing’s Fair in Love and War Fandom: Peaky Blinders Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Daphne Scott (OFC) Warnings: Swearing, drinking, smoking. Word Count: 4071

Author's Note: Hello, again and welcome to the new update. Things start to develop right now and I want to know what you all are thinking of it. Thanks to everybody that commented and liked the fic. Please, let me know what you think. It makes me really happy and helps improve the story. What do you think of the characters, are they too OOC? Something is bothering you? There’s too much scenes of the show in there? What are your thoughts? Share with me. As always, this haven’t been proofread, so feel free to report any mistakes back to me; warnings are expecific for each chapter. Also, your feedback is also highly appreciated. Tags are at the bottom, let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter Summary: Alfie and Daphne have a little conversation that opens their eyes for things that they might have been ignoring. The Shelby Brothers Limited start to put into action their expansion and Daphne has a very interesting encounter.

Masterlist

Five

They were both sitting at the table, breakfast served, newspaper on their hands and silence filling the place. Cyril was sprawled out on Daphne’s feet enjoying the little ray of sunshine entering through the window. Things have been surprisingly good in the Solomons’s household.

“The Blinders took the Eden Club.” She said nonchalantly, taking a sip of her coffee, neither of them taking their eyes out of the paper.

“I heard.”

“Are we ignoring it them?”

“For now.” She sighed, resigned, knowing that he wasn’t going to talk anyway.

“Will you need me next Wednesday?” Alfie lowered his newspaper at that, observing the woman who still had the object hiding her face.

“Not that I remember. Do you have something planned?” She folded the paper, putting it aside on the table and looking up at him.

“Polly Gray invited me for tea.” He blinked once, twice, before folding his own journal and throwing it beside hers.

“Isn’t this Thomas’s aunt?” There was a hint of surprise on his voice. He remembered the woman from Daphne’s party, she seemed skeptical of the young woman the whole night, watching her from aside, trying to make Daphne slip on her words. It did not made any sense that the gypsy woman would invite her for tea without ulterior motives. Unless… Unless that she had seen what Alfie had been trying to ignore since the first time that Thomas Shelby had put his feet at the bakery – or more precisely, since the first time he had laid his eyes on Daphne.

“Yes, it is.”

“Are you considering her offer?”

“Maybe.” He scratched his beard, not taking his eyes of hers. Daphne could almost hear the gears working inside his head.

“Well, it could be good to build up trust, you know. She seemed a little guarded around you.”

“She was analyzing me. Both of us, for that matter.” She took a sip of her coffee.

“Yeah, but she seems to have picked more interest in you than in old, creepy me.” Daphne rolled her eyes at that – he wasn’t that much older than she was.

“We are women, Alfie, sometimes we see things that you men don’t.”

“Like the fact that Will still loves you?” His statement surprised her. Alfie was like a brother to her, they talked about almost everything and he was one of the first that had the courage to point out that William had fallen for her in France. “You can’t tell me that I was the only one who noticed the staring contest between him and our darling Thomas.” She stayed silent, looking at his blue eyes to try to discover where he wanted to go with this conversation. “I’m not stupid, Daph, I’ve been fighting your suitors since we came back from France, I know when a man looks at you as something more than the powerful businesswoman that works with the mad Jew. And that is the way Thomas Shelby looks at you.” He propped his elbows onto the table, hands placed together underneath his chin. “And don’t go telling me that he is curious about us because we’re past this point now.” She smiled, a genuine one, and Alfie had to fight the urge to not do the same.

“He is curious.”

“Well, you know what they say, curiosity killed the cat.” She saw the smirk on his face and the joke in his tone.

“Are you planning to?”

“It depends on where his curiosity is leading him.” Daphne really wanted to believe in him but there was something in the way he talked that told her that he was willing to do what it takes to keep Thomas Shelby from getting too close to her. “You go on and met Polly, aye. See if you can discover something useful to us. Either way, it may be good being on her good sides.” It would come in handy having her out of the bakery if he was going to do what he was planning. Alfie knew her for a fair amount of time to recognize the signs – she was falling for the Brummie gangster.

Since they met, Alfie never saw Daphne show any interest in a romantic relationship. She flirted just alright, could lead men on to think that they had a chance of winning her when the truth was far from that. He even suspected that she and William had some kind of fling at some point. But he also knew that the doctor wanted more – he had talked to Alfie about it in a drunken haze one night. He said that he would rather be in her life as only a friend than not being in her life at all. There is no need to say that they never talked about that ever again.

Yet, he had discussed the topic with Daphne a few times – he was protective of her but it didn’t meant that he didn’t wanted her to be happy, which he truly did. He was a bad man, by society standards, that is, he always had been. Taking what he wanted, manipulating people, lying, deceiving, beating, killing… his whole life. She was completely the opposite – gentle, caring and loving, with a fierce personality and courage that would put any man he knew to shame. Daphne deserved the world – but she did not believed in that. Not after the war. Not after losing everything, after being unmade and having to pick up the pieces. So she ignored everything, everything that could make her feel alive – including the hint of attraction that she felt for William and with that any chance that he had of convincing her that they could be good together.

Considering all of that knowledge, Alfie found a little amusing, at first, the sudden interest that Thomas Shelby had shown towards her the first time they met. It was subtle, the Brummie was not a man that used to show his emotions freely, but the Jew caught his gaze and recognized the curiosity there. And she was right, indeed, because in the beginning all that Tommy wanted was to discover what her connection with Alfie was. But that changed quickly when he learned that she had no romantic involvement with the Jew and he was more than surprised when he saw the hint of interest in Daphne’s eyes the day Tommy brought his man to the bakery.

Alfie didn’t liked the path things were starting to run up to, so he decided to play his cards and deal with things his own way. Thomas Shelby was no good men and that wasn't the first time he crossed somebody to his own benefit so he shouldn't feel guilty for behaving like the gangster he was. Then why he felt like he was doing something wrong?

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Thomas was leaning onto the dresser, reading the newspaper and smoking while he waited for his brothers and aunt.

“Are you alright?” Polly asked when she entered through the front door, taking off her gloves and going to sit by the fire to try and warm up. Tommy clears his throat, throwing the paper in one of the chairs and taking the bottle on the table.

“What is it? Just us?” Arthur asks, curious, standing beside his younger brother.

“Just us.” Thomas uncorks the bottle and starts pouring the liquid into the three glasses displayed on the table.

“Are we celebrating?”

“Just taste this.” Tommy hands the glasses to each of them. Arthur and John sit on the lovesit, the eldest Shelby takes the drink in one gulp.

“What do you think, Arthur?”

“Yeah, it's good. Good stuff, really nice. Too good for the Garrison. I suppose we could shift it to the toffs at the Eden Club. Why? What is it?” He asks, curious like the other two. Tommy starts explaining while Arthur takes the bottle and pours himself another glass.

“That is part of an export drive. We now have a secure warehouse in Camden Town and secure passage to the Poplar Docks. So, on Monday morning, we'll be sending out our first export crate. A crate of Riley car spares bound for Halifax, Nova Scotia.”

“Where there's prohibition.” Polly finishes for him. He gives her a half smirk, pointing at her with the hand that holds the cigarette.

“Where there is prohibition. All over Canada and America, people are making their own booze in bathtubs. But rich people in New York, in Toronto and Boston are still paying a lot of money for the real stuff. So, on Monday, the first Shelby company crate will contain a thousand Riley carburetors. But hidden in the packing will be five hundred bottles of the finest quality single malt Scotch whisky.” Polly is examining the bottle that Arthur had put back on the table. “And we, Shelby's, have a license granted by the Minister Of The Empire himself, which means our crates won't be searched.” Thomas sees the hesitation in his aunts demeanor. “And, Polly, all of the whisky will be packed at the docks, so Michael can do the books without being involved. Like I've been telling you all for a year now motor cars are the future.”

“So, how is your life then, Tom?”

“On the up, Johnny, on the up.” Tommy is supervising the shipment of the crate while smoking a cigarette.

“But, Tom, really, come on, how is it?” The gypsy steps closer to Tommy, hands on his waist. “You know I hate to see you not even married yet. I have a fine looking cousin, she'll make your life hell. You deserve her!” He laughs and the gangster smiles a little. “We haven't had a good old wedding in a long time.” The gangster can do little to stop the image that his brain conjures in his head - Daphne, standing at the altar in a white dress veil upon her face. Damn, woman for making him want things he can’t have. He is quick to go back into business.

“Have you had a look inside these boxes, then, Johnny?” The man is carrying boxes to the boat and tries to run away from the gangster’s question.

“What do I want to look at car parts, Tommy, when I haven't even got a car?”

“Faith in family is a fine thing, eh? And I wouldn't even be counting. If twenty five becomes twenty four, then twenty four it is.” Tommy walks closer to him, stopping by his side.

“Oh, you know I'm no good with numbers, Tom.” The gangster puts his arm around Johnny’s shoulders.

“And if 24 ever became 23 then that'd be tax. We don't pay tax.” The man looks at him clearly frightened.

“No, Tom.”

“Good man.” Tommy pats his back and makes his way to the stairs of the warehouse,, where he mets Billy Kimber.

“I put an iron door on, and we've put iron bars on the windows and across the skylights.”

“Good.” The gangster passes by Billy and the man follows him up.

“So what will you be keeping in here, Tommy?”

“Temptation, Billy. Temptation.”

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“Morning, Arthur. I was just passing.” The eldest Shelby is fucking a woman on one of the couches of the club, pointing a gun at the alleged threat entering the room. Tommy just walks by, going directly to the back room take a look at the books.

“I think I'm in fucking love.” Arthur takes a few minutes to go met his brother, appearance disheveled and still breathing a little heavy. “Drink!” He becomes one of the waiters and sits down in front of Tommy, buttoning his shirt. “She don't know where to look.” The waiter comes with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. “Whisky, Tommy?”

“No, I've got a long drive ahead.” The younger Shelby is deeply concentrated in the number in front of him,

“You off home?” Arthur asks, serving himself a glass of the alcohol.

“Mm-hmmm. Eventually.”

“To Birmingham.” The eldest Shelby raises his glass before taking the shot.

“What's this?” Tommy asks turning a page and tapping his fingers on it. “Olives.”

“Yes, it's miscellaneous. It's, erm, olives. Sticks, you know, with little bits of fucking onion and things. That's what that is.” Arthur gestures while speaking and Tommy just stares at him.

“We've taken six hundred pounds on olives.” The older man seems a little unset

“Yeah, with little bits of onion.” Tommy takes a drag of his cigarette before speaking, very calmly.

“I told you, Arthur, the dealers sell the cocaine, we take a cut. We don't sell direct. The Home Secretary's cracking down and I don't want this to fuck up everything else, you understand?

“I understand.”

“How much of that six hundred came out of your pocket?”

“It's under control.” Arthur says after a while, pouring himself another drink.

“I put you down here because people are scared of you, Arthur. But if you don't straighten up, it'll be John's turn in London.”

“No need. I can handle it.”

“It's under control?”

“It's under control.” Tommy closes the book in front of him, leaning back in the chair and crossing his legs while Arthur downs the whisky.

“Fucking tidy profit, though, eh?” They both smile, while Arthur looks around.

“It's happening, Tom.”

“Good. Good.” Thomas gets up, taps the book on the table and leaves but not before shouting to his brother. “Straighten up, soldier.” Arthur kneads his fingers through his hair, finishing to button up his shirt and taking the money from the table.

“Yes, sir, Sergeant Major.”

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After knocking on his sister’s door and waiting for her to open the door for him, Tommy it’s taken a little by surprise when he is received by a young man.

“I'm looking for Ada.”

“Who are you?” Thomas just pushes him away and marches into the house, the man follows him.

“Ada.” He greets her sister.

“I asked you a question.” Tommy turns to face the man that had just passed through the living room door.

“It's all right, James. This is my brother.” The woman doesn’t bother herself by the presence of her older brother.

“Who's he?” Tommy asks and Ada answers nonchalantly.

“He rents a room.”

“You need to rent out rooms?”

“Actually, she doesn't charge rent.” James answers instead.

“He's a writer, which means he's skint.”

“You get up late these days, Ada.”

“Mm. I go to bed late.”

“Yeah? Where's Karl?”

“What do you want, Tommy?” Ada lowers the paper in her hands and notices that Tommy analysing James and is quick to say. “Oh, God, before you start sizing him up for a wedding suit, he's not interested in me. Or in girls of any kind.”

“Ada!” The writer reprehends her.

“What? Tommy won't judge you.” She goes on reading the paper again. “He sure as hell won't go to the police.”

“Look, I'll go and get dressed.” James makes a move to leave but Tommy stops him.

“James I'm Thomas.” The gangster extends a hand to him. “Pleased to meet you.” The young man seems a little unsure, but reaches for Thomas’s hands, shaking it. “Can I have a minute with my sister, please?”

“Yes, of course.” He leaves the room and Thomas takes a seat on the couch, looking around and then at his sister.

“So, does your lodger know your name?”

“Yeah. Thorne. You think I'd tell anybody anything else? Your Brummie boys are all over the papers. Just one last push, eh? Then you'll go legit? Just one more obstacle to get round then it'll all be straight?”

“Actually, yes.” Tommy seems unamused by her commentaries. Ada scoffs before talking again.

“Personally, I find it quite amusing. Men like you are becoming very fashionable down here. No society party in London is complete without a gangster for the girls to go giddy for. Anyway, what is it that you want?”

“I don't have any children, Ada.” That takes her attention. “So I have set up a trust fund. The beneficiaries will be John's kids and Karl. In order for Karl to benefit, I need your signature.” He takes a paper from the inner pocket of his coat, unfolding it and putting it onto the table for her to take. “I've set up an account. Money will be transferred in the event of my death. It'll set them up for a new life.” Ada folds the newspaper, putting it aside to take the thing he has left on the table.

“Are you sick?”

“I'm just doing what any ordinary man would, putting my affairs in order.” She paused for a minute or two, reading the terms of the trust fund.

“And putting your affairs in order includes admitting that you feel something for Daphne?” Since he had came to her asking about the woman, Ada had been dying to ask him about it. After her conversation with Daphne and seeing the way they both looked at each other at her birthday party, the Shelby sister was more than convinced that there was something in the water. Tommy rolls his eyes, scoffing at his sister but she doesn’t give him a chance to talk. “Wherever it is that you are doing that made you think about putting up a trust fund for your nephews certainly is trouble enough to make you stop moping around because of that damn barmaid and move on to someone that’s worth.”

“And Daphne is.” Ada sighs, irritated by his cold façade.

“You know what, Tommy. Go on and keep on pretending that you don’t care about anybody anymore. Keep on lying to yourself about what you really feel. Maybe that way she can have a chance with somebody that bloody deserves her!”

“I don’t know if that man really exists.”

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Daphne was sitting at the cafe, book in hand and a cup of tea in front of her, appreciating the piece and quiet when she noticed the man coming towards her. She knew that it was just a matter of time, she had already noticed that Finn had been following her all day, it was obvious that it had something to do with his older brother’s doings.

“Mr. Shelby.” She lifted her gaze to met his and saw the little hint of surprise in there.

“Miss Scott, a surprise to find you here.”

“Really. You mean that the fact that Finn is out there in the cold taking guard to see what time I arrived is totally coincidence.” He gave her a sideway smirk at her cleverness. He wasn’t expecting to get caught so easily. “Call the poor boy inside.” Thomas beckoned the younger blinder inside and in a minute he was by her side, looking at his brother a little concerned that he would get reprimanded.

“Hello, Daph.”

“Hello, Finn. Why don’t you go to the counter and ask Mary for a sweet? On my behalf.” He looked at his older brother for permission before thanking her and walking towards the counter. Tommy pointed at the chair in front of her.

“May I?” She closed her book, putting it aside.

“Be my guest.” The waiter came to the table immediately and she asked for more tea and something for them to eat before Tommy had a chance to talk. When the waiter left he was looking at her, smirking. “So what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit outside of the bakery?”

“I was just passing by, thought that would be good to see you.” The warmth that spread through her was something that Daphne wasn’t expecting.They weren’t friends, they were just business partners and all that considered he was still a stranger for her - what little information she had of him, besides one or two things confided to her by Ada, was mostly business related. However, for some reason that she couldn’t quite understand, the simple fact of this man sitting in front of her and saying that he thought that would be good to see her in such a casual manner, like it was something that he had been thinking about for a while, made her heart flutter.

“Everything alright with the first crate of Shelby Brothers Limited?” He smiled as he noticed the faint blush on her cheeks and the fact that she was redirecting the topic. It seemed that Daphne Scott would never cease to find a way to amaze him in some way.

“All going according to the plan.” There was silence again as the waiter came back with the food but they never averting their gaze from each other more than what was strictly necessary. Daphne thanked the waiter and took a sip of her tea. “How’s the preparations for your friend's wedding?” If she thought that his inquiry was strange she didn’t showed it.

“Rushed but going well despite William’s complaints.” At the mention of the doctor’s name Daphne saw Thomas’s flinch but he quickly regained his composure.

“You seem pretty close.” He took a sip of his own tea trying to put the image of the doctor hugging Daphne to the back of his mind.

“Yeah, we know each other for a long time. William is a good friend.” He made a little pout murmuring a “hmm” and then there was silence. Being under his stare was never unsettling, not like it was with other people sometimes, she felt surprisingly comfortable with the silence in a similar way than what she felt around Alfie. But the Jew was right - like Ada and Harriet - there was something in the way he looked at her, something that wasn’t just curiosity. He looked at her like he knew something about her that she hadn’t figured it out yet and she had to admit that she felt compelled to discover what it was.

“Friend.” The word was said as if it contained venon. “I see.”

“He’s a good man.” She said casually and he scoffed at that.

“Yeah, I bet he is every mother’s dream for her daughter. Any particular reason to way he’s not married yet?” She arched and eyebrow at him.

“Any reason to why you are not married yet?”

“I am not a good man.” Thomas leaned back into the chair, analysing her piercing gaze.

“I doubt that this is a hindrance, lost count of how many women I saw daydreaming about marrying Alfie.” She smiled, biting a scone and taking her time chewing it. “There are people that are drawn to danger.”

“Are you?” There was the glint in his eyes again and Daphne paused for a moment before answering him.

“If I feared danger I wouldn’t live with a gangster.” It was a bold affirmation and he noticed that she did nothing to conceal it. He looked around, people seemed too absorbed into their own conversation to eavesdrop, even then, he was surprised by her bluntness. Thomas let the statement sink in with a prickle of satisfaction, a smirk creeping into his features. “You didn’t touched your food.”

“Not hungry.”

“Would you disregard me like that?” He knew what she was doing, trying to guilt trip him, so he decided to entertain her and began to eat. She seemed rather satisfied with herself as she took another bite of her scone, smiling.

“Are you going?” Tommy gave her a confused look, like he had been distracted. “To the wedding.”

“Do you want me too go?” The question caught Daphne by surprise even when she knew that the leader of the Peaky Blinders’s boldness. Yet, there was no surprise to her in figuring out that yes, she did want him there.

“Don’t get me wrong, Mr. Shelby, but you don’t seem like a man that cares about anyone else’s opinion.” He rested his elbows on the table, leaning in closer.

“And if I care about yours?” She felt lost in his gaze, lost into this strange feeling that she had around him. But the moment had come and go just as fast when Josiah approached her, informing that she was needed at the bakery. So she had to excuse herself, getting up to leave. Daphne extended her hand for him to shake, like usual, and was taken by surprise when his rough fingers turned hers around, guiding them to his lips. He kissed her knuckles, a barely there touch, but his azure eyes stared at her conceding everything that he did not say. “See you then.”

Tags: @stressedandbandobessed7771​