#I’m not watching this series for alfie i’m not

[myrxellabaratheon]

WHY DIDN’T ANYONE TELL ME ALFIE SPEAKS ITALIAN IN SAS? (I know it’s like two words “Si, inglese” but godddddd fuck!!)

[heavencanbeaprisontoo]

Hi I hope you’re well 😊 I’m here to request your thoughts on Tommy Shelby as a father. Like how many kids you’d think he would have had if he only had one love interest (no falling in love with Grace or marrying Lizzie). Or if you think he’d be a girl or boy dad (personally i’d like to think he’d be a girl dad and have a big family haha). You can make this headcanon or just simply respond to this ask however you’d like! Thank you for taking the time to read and answer 🥰

Thomas Shelby as a Father

Tommy x Fem!Reader

Trope: Wait till your father gets home Warnings: Angst, spoilers for most of the series, period-typical sexism, references to past ab-se.

What we see of Tommy as a father is that he's distant and seemingly detached. This, I feel, is because of his trauma in losing Grace and his growing obsession with obtaining power.

We do see that Tommy is aware of his children's emotional state but seems unable to comfort his son. He goes as far as to have Arthur be the one to talk to his son about why he had to shoot his horse.

Tommy clearly cares about his children. He runs through a field of landmines to save his son, when he had almost stepped on one to purposely end his own life. Tommy goes nearly mad when he finds out Alfie Solomons was involved with the enemy that kidnapped his son. He shot Alfie for that betrayal with the intent to kill.

When Ruby became ill and he thought was all due to a curse, Tommy hunted the woman down. He went on a bloody rampage because he thought it would save her. With all of this, we know he is a loving father. But without Grace, he doesn't seem to know how to show that love.

Let's say that there is no Grace, only you, and that no sapphire is ever put around your neck.

That Thomas might be different than the one we saw parenting Charles and Ruby. I think he would want more than two children. I think he would be the sort of man who would say "one is enough," but really he wants four.

He would never raise his voice in his home without good reason. Tommy knows what its like to have a father that rules through fear and honey. He won't be kind only when he wants something. He won't make his children afraid of him.

Personally, I do see him as prime girl-dad material. Like he would have one son and three girls. Regardless of the birthing order, he calls the boy his "heir," but spoils the girls. They each have their own horse, a wardrobe of beautiful clothing, and freedom to do literally whatever they want. He has opened his briefcase to find dollies and teacups from your youngest girl's tea set before. She thought he would be lonely at work.

His girls would be the sort to follow around staff and ask them intrusive questions. Tommy would not be immune. His daughters would probably ask him questions like: "Do you not grow hair on the back of your hand daddy? Is that why it's only on top?" At least one of his daughters would have a "I'm totally a witch," phase where she's flinging curses just like he used to. Only with her, it's cute because she's only nine.

The only son of Thomas Shelby would be safely tucked under his wing. At your imploring, he would take your boy on long car rides or out into town without his sisters to bond. The boy has a lot of pressure on him to succeed, Tommy doesn't always sympathize with that.

All four of his children would be little hellions. He would be dragged to see their school's headmaster on a near weekly basis. To the point where he isn't always sure which of his kids is in trouble sometimes. He just drops a donation to the school and the problem goes away. That's not to say your children are bratty or terribly spoiled. Well, they are, but not unbearably so...

Tommy makes sure his children understand where he came from. He brings them all to the Cut to watch the ships come through. Loves to leave them at Charlie's yard for an afternoon of mischief and bonding time with "Grandpa Charlie." They also get dropped off at Aunt Polly's home for weekends every now and again. The girls always come back with a new swear word.

They are new money, not old money. There are those who will look down upon them based on this alone. He makes sure his children are educated and well-rounded individuals. Tommy often worries about the state of the Shelby Empire after he dies. You remind him that he "isn't allowed to die," before you say so.

Tommy is still more distant than you would like him to be. He's so focused on his goals, it's like he forgets all about Arrow House and the family that lives there. The oldest two girls have said as much to his face once before. He took the family on holiday after that. You knew he would go right back to long nights in the office, but it was still sweet.

Life with him is hardly perfect, but it's closer to it than you could have with anybody else. And that's enough.

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Saccharine Recoveries.

my masterlist || ask me anything <3

series masterlist.

authors note - a part two was highly requested, so here you all go! not going to lie to you all, i’m not the happiest with how this turned out, but writers block is a total bitch. i’m sorry if it doesn’t live up to your standards. 🫶

word count - 7.9k

in which, after being in a medically induced coma for the past four days, your eyes are finally open, just when your husband thinks that everything is rosie, trials and tribulations occur once again making the processes of your recovery ten times harder, but he’s optimistic and always looks on the bright side , even when that all comes crashing down.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Recovery Day One. — 15th August, 2022.

19:03pm.

“(Y/N)?” Harry spoke in a hushed whisper as you tried to smile at him.

The sensation of the tube in your throat was uncomfortable, a reminder of the ordeal you had endured. You instinctively reached for your voice, your lips parting to form words, but the effects of the coma lingered, rendering your efforts into silence.

A group of doctors entered the room, and your heart skipped a beat as they approached your bed. Dr. Parker, his eyes kind and understanding, stepped forward.

"Hello, Mrs. Styles," he greeted you with a gentle smile. "I'm glad to see you awake."

Your gaze shifted to Harry and Alfie, their expressions a mix of hope and concern. Your fingers trembled slightly as you lifted your hand, pointing toward them. A stray tear slid down the side of your face, its path traced by a mixture of emotions – relief, gratitude, and the unspoken words that your voice couldn't yet express.

Dr. Parker followed your gesture, his gaze softening as he understood. "Harry and Alfie are right here with you. They've been waiting for you to wake up."

Your lips curved into a faint smile, your eyes locking onto Harry's and then Alfie's. Your heart seemed to speak for you, conveying the depth of your emotions and the overwhelming love that surged within you. Your hand trembled slightly as it remained pointed toward them, the tear on your cheek a testament to the profound connection that held your family together.

Dr. Parker's voice carried a note of reassurance. "It's okay, Mrs. Styles. Take your time. Your body is still recovering from the coma, and your voice will return when it's ready."

As Dr. Parker finished his conversation with you, his gaze turned gentle and concerned. "Are you experiencing any pain, Mrs. Styles?"

You managed to summon the energy to nod your head slightly, a subtle indication that discomfort still lingered. The faintest flicker of concern crossed Harry's features as he watched your response.

"Where are you feeling the pain?" Dr. Parker's voice was soothing, his attention focused solely on your well-being.

Harry's grip on your hand tightened, his gaze fixated on you. "M’love, where does it ‘urt?"

You shifted slightly, your gaze fixed on Dr. Parker. Weakly, you managed to lift your hand and gesture toward your chest and ribs, the source of your discomfort.

Dr. Parker's expression turned thoughtful, and he nodded. "Thank you for letting me know. I'll make sure you receive the appropriate pain relief."

With a gentle smile, he turned to leave the room, leaving you and your two boys alone once again. Harry's eyes never left your face, his concern palpable.

"Darlin’, are y’okay?" Harry's voice was laced with worry, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand.

You managed a weak smile, your gaze never leaving his. The silent exchange between you carried a wealth of emotions, unspoken words of comfort and reassurance.

Dr. Parker returned with a nurse who began administering the prescribed pain relief. As the nurse worked, Dr. Parker approached your bedside once again.

"We'll make sure you're as comfortable as possible," Dr. Parker assured you. "Your body has been through a lot, and it's important that you're not in pain."

Harry's voice was a mixture of gratitude and concern. "Thank you, Doc."

Dr. Parker nodded, his attention shifting to you. "Rest is crucial for your recovery. If you need anything, don't hesitate to let us know."

As the nurse finished administering the pain relief, you felt a sense of relief wash over you. The tension in your body began to ease, and you gave Harry a small smile – a silent acknowledgment of his unwavering presence by your side.

"We'll be here with you, love," Harry's voice was filled with determination. "Every step of the way."

And as Dr. Parker and the nurse left the room, you found comfort in the knowledge that your journey to healing was not one you had to travel alone.

The doctors then turned their attention to the monitors, checking your vitals and heart rate. Their movements were methodical and practised, their focus on ensuring your well-being.

Satisfied with their assessments, Dr. Parker looked at you with a reassuring smile. "Your vitals are looking stable, (Y/N). Your body is responding well."

You managed a weak smile, your voice still struggling to find its strength.

"We're going to give you a moment with your family now," Dr. Parker continued, his tone considerate. "Harry and Alfie are here with you."

As the doctors began to step away, Harry's presence came into view. His eyes were fixed on you, a mixture of relief and emotion evident in his gaze. Alfie stood beside him, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern.

" ‘ey, m’sun," Harry's voice was a soft, soothing balm. "How are’y’feeling?"

You managed a faint smile, your fingers reaching out to Harry's hand. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes – a silent reassurance of your connection.

Alfie shuffled closer, his eyes wide with wonder. "Mummy?"

You offered Alfie a tender smile, your hand extending toward him. Your fingers lightly brushed against his, a gentle touch that conveyed your love and presence.

Harry's voice was a mixture of encouragement and understanding. "Y’safe now, (Y/N). We're all here with ya’.”

As the doctors left the room, the atmosphere settled into a quieter, more intimate calm. The warmth of Harry's hand in yours was a constant reassurance, a lifeline that tethered you to the present.

Harry's eyes, filled with a mixture of love and concern, never left your face. His voice, gentle and soothing, filled the silence. "Y’been asleep f’a lil’while, m’love. There's some catching up t’do."

Your gaze locked onto his, a flicker of anticipation in your eyes.

"M’postponed the American leg ‘f the tour," Harry began, his voice carrying the weight of the decision. "It jus’didn't feel right being on t’road without ya’."

The news hit you like a shockwave, and your eyes widened in disbelief. A tremor ran through your body, and you started to shake your head, your voice struggling to find its strength.

Harry reached for your hand, his touch grounding you. "M’know it's a lot, m’sun, but it was necessary. Our family comes first."

You searched his eyes, finding reassurance in the depth of his gaze. The unspoken promise of unity and support between you was unwavering.

Harry continued, his voice soft and filled with emotion. "M’mum flew over as soon as she heard. She wanted t’be here f’us, for Alfie. And Gem, she's flying out soon too. We're all in this together."

A sense of gratitude swelled within you, knowing that your family was rallying around you during this challenging time. The bond you shared with Harry and the love you held for your son were at the heart of it all.

As the conversation with Harry continued, Alfie, who had been sitting patiently by his father's side, leaned in and whispered something into Harry's ear. The words were hushed and filled with earnestness.

"Can I go and sit next to mummy?"

Harry's eyes softened with understanding as he glanced at his son. He nodded, a tender smile playing at the corners of his lips. " ‘f course, buddy."

With gentle hands, Harry lifted Alfie from his spot by his side and carefully placed him on the bed beside you. Alfie's little frame nestled against your side, and he instinctively shifted closer, seeking the comfort of your presence.

Your heart swelled with emotion as you felt Alfie's warmth against your body. The tenderness in his touch and the trust in his eyes were a testament to the special bond you shared. It was a moment of quiet connection, and even though you lacked the energy to cuddle him back, the love that flowed between you was palpable.

Harry watched the two of you with a soft smile, his heart undoubtedly touched by the sight of his son seeking solace in the arms of his recovering mother. It was a moment of unity, a reaffirmation of the strength of your family's bond.

19:30pm.

In the quiet stillness of the hospital room, Harry leaned in, his lips poised to share a deeply personal revelation. The weight of the secret he held had been on his shoulders for too long, and he was determined to share it with you. His eyes, full of anticipation and love, met yours.

Just as the words were about to leave his lips, the door to the room opened, and the nurse, entered with gentle steps, entered at precisely seven-thirty. Her presence was unobtrusive, and her warm smile radiated compassion as she approached your bedside.

You greeted her with a subtle nod, your curiosity piqued by her arrival. Harry, ever the vigilant protector, looked up from his tender embrace of Alfie, his concern mirrored in his eyes.

"Good evening, Mrs. Styles," the nurse greeted you softly, her voice a soothing balm to the quiet room. "It's usually dinner time now, but given your recent awakening from the coma, we need to proceed cautiously with your diet for the time being."

Your gaze remained focused on her, a silent invitation for her to continue. Harry, still cradling Alfie with the care of a seasoned parent, nodded in acknowledgment, his concern for your well-being unwavering.

The nurse, her eyes kind and reassuring, continued to explain, "Your digestive system may need some time to regain its strength after the period of inactivity. Therefore, we've decided to provide you with a special formula through your IV. This way, we can ensure that you're receiving the right nutrients and proper hydration."

Harry's response was immediate, his voice laced with gratitude and trust. "Whatevers best f’her, Nurse. We want t’make sure she's getting ‘hat she needs."

You managed a faint but appreciative smile, your eyes conveying the depth of your gratitude for their unwavering support and care. Despite your current inability to speak, the silent bond between you and your family spoke volumes.

The nurse proceeded with her preparations, her skilled hands deftly checking the IV line to ensure its proper function. Throughout the process, Alfie remained fast asleep in Harry's embrace, his peaceful slumber a testament to the exhausting day he had experienced.

With her preparations complete, the nurse offered one final reassurance. "We will be closely monitoring your progress, (Y/N). This is just a temporary measure to aid in your recovery."

The nurse had just left the room, her instructions regarding the specialised IV and dietary changes echoing in the air. Harry, sensing the moment was right, leaned in closer, his eyes filled with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Alfie was securely cradled in his arms as he gently took your hands, his gaze never leaving yours.

With a soft, reassuring smile, Harry spoke the words you had both longed to hear. "Y’pregnant, m’sun."

You reacted with a swift, adamant shake of your head, your eyes wide with disbelief. The shock and confusion etched across your face were undeniable.

But Harry, determined to share this moment with you, leaned forward, ensuring that Alfie remained comfortably nestled in his embrace. He spoke with a tender reassurance, his voice a soothing balm amidst the swirling emotions.

"Yes, y’are," Harry affirmed, his voice steady and filled with unwavering love. "T’doctors said y’thirteen weeks along, ‘n’everything's fine, m’love. T’baby is fine."

Overwhelmed by the weight of this revelation, tears welled up in your eyes. Emotions surged within you, a mixture of astonishment, vulnerability, and joy. The reality of the situation began to set in, and you couldn't contain the flood of tears that followed.

With Alfie nestled between you both, Harry's comforting presence and the assurance that your family was growing filled the room with an overwhelming sense of love and unity.

Harry continued to hold you close, his soothing words offering comfort amidst your tears. "We're in this together, (Y/N). You, me, Alfie, ‘n’our little one on t’way. We’ll face everything together, just like we always do."

20:07pm.

As the evening hours continued to pass, the time for Harry and Alfie to leave the hospital room drew near. Harry turned to you, his eyes filled with both longing and a sense of duty.

"Alf’s goin’ school in the morning," he explained gently, his voice soft and reassuring. "But I'll be back straight after I've dropped him off, alright?"

You nodded your head in understanding, your silent agreement filled with trust and love. Leaning in closer, you pressed a gentle kiss to Alfie's head, your lips conveying all the warmth and affection you felt for your precious son.

Harry's heart swelled with love as he watched you share that tender moment with Alfie, a silent promise of your presence and love even in his absence.

Turning his attention back to you, Harry then leaned in to press a loving kiss to your lips, a feeling that both of you had missed dearly during this challenging time. The warmth of your kiss was a poignant reminder of the deep connection you shared, a source of strength that would carry you through the days ahead.

With one last loving glance, Harry and Alfie left the room, the door closing softly behind them.

As the door gently closed behind Harry and Alfie, you found yourself alone in the dimly lit hospital room. The silence of the space enveloped you, broken only by the soft hum of medical equipment. It was in this solitary moment that you finally allowed yourself to embrace the vulnerability that had been suppressed for too long.

With one hand instinctively resting on your stomach, you pulled the hospital blanket closer to your body with the other. Its warmth and softness provided a semblance of comfort in the stark, clinical environment.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and, without hesitation, they began to flow. They traced a path down your cheeks, unburdening the emotions that had been building within you. These tears were not borne of despair but were simply a release, an acknowledgment of the pain and uncertainty you had endured.

Your ribs ached with each breath, serving as a constant reminder of the accident, and your throat still bore the discomfort of the breathing tube that had sustained you during your coma. The physical pain mirrored the emotional turmoil that had gripped you since that fateful day.

As you allowed yourself to cry, the hospital room witnessed the rawness of your feelings. The tears, like a cleansing rain, carried away the weight of your journey, drop by drop. In their silent descent, you found a sense of relief, a moment to acknowledge your strength in facing adversity and to grieve for the challenges you had encountered.

Recovery Day Two. — 16th August, 2022.

08:31am.

The new morning painted the world with a sense of hope and renewal. Harry and Alfie, hand in hand, approached the grand entrance of Alfie's primary school. The sun's gentle rays played through the leaves of towering trees, casting intricate patterns on the path they trod.

Alfie's backpack, on his petite frame, appeared comically oversized, an emblem of his premature birth three months prior. It slung over his shoulders, almost grazing the ground with its weight. Yet, it was a symbol of his resilience, a testament to his eagerness to embrace this new day.

Harry, looking down at his son and offered a warm, reassuring smile.

"Y’going t’do great today, Alf," he encouraged, his voice infused with love and unwavering support. He couldn't help but marvel at the little boy who had already faced so much in his young life.

Alfie, his tiny hand holding on to his father's with a mixture of trust and nervousness, clung to the familiarity of his touch. The weight of his backpack seemed nothing compared to the emotional burden he carried on his first day back at school since you had been hospitalised.

"I'm scared, Daddy," Alfie finally admitted, his voice barely more than a whisper. The uncertainty of returning to school after an extended absence weighed heavily on his young heart.

Harry knelt down, coming to eye level with his son, his eyes mirroring Alfie's with a gentle understanding.

"S’okay t’feel scared, buddy," he assured, his words carrying the reassurance of a father's love. "But remember, y’not alone. Y’friends ‘n’teachers are here f’you, ‘n’Mommy will be so proud ‘f y’when she hears ‘bout y’first day back."

Alfie nodded, a glimmer of determination shining through his eyes. With a deep, steadying breath, he took that brave step through the school gates.

As they approached the classroom door, Mrs. Lucas stood outside, offering warm greetings to the arriving students and parents. Alfie's steps grew slower, and his grip on Harry's hand became hesitant. Mrs. Lucas, with a kind smile, extended her welcome to them.

"Good morning, Alfie," she greeted with genuine warmth. "It's so good to have you back."

But when those words reached Alfie's ears, his steps came to an abrupt halt. He turned to his father, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. The plea in his gaze was clear – he needed to be picked up.

Harry tilted his head in concern as he knelt down to Alfie's level. Without hesitation, he gently lifted his son into his arms, Alfie clutching him tightly. Tears began to flow down Alfie's cheeks as he buried his face in Harry's shoulder.

With genuine worry, Harry asked,

"S’wrong, buddy?" His voice was soft, a comforting presence in this moment of turmoil.

Alfie, his voice quivering with emotion, didn't immediately respond. He simply continued to cry, his tiny frame trembling in his father's embrace.

With Alfie still nestled in his arms, Harry tried once more to coax words from his son.

Amidst the sympathetic gazes of the other parents, Alfie's tears continued to stream down his cheeks, his sobs growing more intense with each passing moment. Harry's heart ached as he held his son close, longing to soothe the pain that had gripped the young boy's heart.

"S’wrong, Alfie?" Harry asked once more, his voice tender and filled with empathy. He knew that Alfie needed to express his feelings, to release the emotions that had built up during the time when his mother was in the hospital.

Alfie hiccupped, struggling to find his words through his tears. Finally, in a soft, quivering voice, he managed to convey his deep longing, "I don't want to go to school... I want Mommy."

Harry's heart felt like it had shattered into a million pieces as he held his son tighter. He understood Alfie's pain all too well, and he wished he could make it all better. In that moment, he felt the weight of your absence more than ever.

Harry held Alfie close, his arms wrapped around his trembling son as they stood outside the classroom door. Alfie's tears still glistened in his eyes, and his grip on his father remained firm.

In a soft, soothing voice, Harry began to speak. "Y’know, Alfie, t’second I pick y’up after school, we can go’n’see Mommy. But right now, it's important f’y’t’go t’school’n’learn all sorts of new things."

Alfie's response was a shaky, tearful shake of his head. He reached up to play with the soft peach fuzz at the back of his father's neck, a comforting gesture that harkened back to his baby days.

Harry, understanding the depth of his son's reluctance, tried a different approach. "Y’remember y’best friend Casey, right? Well, he's in y’class already’n’his daddy texted me last night sayin’ that Casey really missed ya’ Do y’think y’could go in’n’see him today?"

Alfie considered this for a moment, his watery eyes reflecting the uncertainty he felt. Eventually, he nodded his head, a small but significant step toward the classroom.

Harry gently wiped away the tears under Alfie's eyes, his heart full of love and pride for his brave little boy. He leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to Alfie's forehead, their foreheads touching briefly.

"I love you, Alfie," Harry whispered.

"I love you too, Daddy," Alfie replied, his voice filled with trust and affection. With that final exchange of words, Harry lowered his son down to the floor.

Watching Alfie take those uncertain steps toward the classroom, Harry couldn't help but feel a swell of pride for his brave boy.

After Alfie had taken those hesitant steps into the classroom, Harry turned his attention to Mrs. Lucas, his expression a mixture of concern and determination. He approached her with a polite smile, trying to maintain a sense of normalcy.

"Mrs. Lucas," he began, his voice soft and earnest, "I just wanted t’let y’know that if, at any point during the day, Alfie starts getting upset or, well, anything happens, please don't hesitate t’give me a call."

Mrs. Lucas regarded him with a curious yet understanding gaze, her concern evident. She knew that something had been amiss, but she also respected Harry's discretion.

“Of course, Harry," she replied kindly. "I'll keep an eye on him and be sure to reach out if he needs you."

Harry nodded, a sense of relief washing over him. He appreciated Mrs. Lucas's willingness to support Alfie during this challenging time. However, when she inquired further, her voice gentle, about what had happened, Harry hesitated.

"I'd rather not discuss it," he said quietly, his gaze momentarily distant. "Just, please, call me if Alfie gets upset. That's all I ask."

Mrs. Lucas nodded in understanding, recognizing the importance of respecting their privacy. She gave Harry an understanding smile, appreciating the depth of his concern for Alfie's well-being.

"Of course, Mr. Styles," she reassured him once more. "We'll take good care of Alfie here."

With that, Harry offered his gratitude with a nod and turned to leave the school, knowing that, despite the challenges ahead, Alfie was in capable and caring hands.

09:00am.

The room was bathed in the gentle morning light as the clock on the wall struck nine. It marked the beginning of another day in the hospital, a new chapter in your journey towards recovery.

A soft knock at the door signalled the arrival of a specialist, a man named James. His presence was a breath of fresh air, a beacon of hope in the sterile environment of the hospital room. With a warm smile, he approached your bedside, his eyes filled with empathy and reassurance.

"Good morning," he greeted, his voice carrying the calm confidence of someone experienced in helping patients on their path to recovery. "I'm James, and I'm a speech therapist. How are you feeling today?"

You nodded in response, your eyes locked onto James, eager to hear his guidance and reassured by his professional demeanour.

James continued, his words measured and encouraging. "I want you to know that since your coma was relatively short, only three days, your speech should recover quite well. It might take some time and effort, but we'll work together to help you regain your full communication abilities."

James gently pulled his briefcase onto the bed, a sense of purpose in his movements. From it, he carefully extracted a pack of flashcards, each adorned with colorful images. He placed them on a small table beside the bed, arranging them neatly.

With a kind and encouraging tone, James explained the exercise ahead.

"We're going to start with something simple," he said, his voice soothing. "I'll show you some pictures, and I'd like you to try and name what's on each of them."

As he revealed the first flashcard, you looked at the image, your eyes focused. A glimmer of determination flickered in your gaze as you attempted to find the words within you. You opened your mouth, trying to conjure the sounds, but it was a formidable challenge.

The effort required to speak felt overwhelming, and a wave of frustration washed over you. Your body seemed to slump into the bed behind you, the weight of the task pulling you down.

James observed your struggle with empathy, recognizing the immense effort you were putting into this seemingly simple task.

Seeing your struggle and the evident frustration it brought, James reached for a glass and a jug of water from the bedside table. With careful movements, he filled the glass, and then he placed a straw inside it.

"Let's take a little break," he suggested kindly, offering you the glass. "Having some water will help keep your vocal cords hydrated, which can make speaking a bit easier."

He held the glass to your lips, allowing you to sip the cool water through the straw at your own pace. It was a small but essential gesture, a reminder that the journey towards recovery was a series of steps, each one significant in its own way.

James sat on the edge of the bed, his presence calm and reassuring. He held up the flashcards once more, looking at you with encouragement in his eyes.

"Would you like to try again?" he asked gently.

You hesitated for a moment, the memory of your previous attempt still fresh. But deep down, the determination burned, and you nodded your head, a sign that you were willing to give it another shot.

Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself for the task at hand. As you looked at the first flashcard, your lips parted, and you began to speak. However, the words that emerged were not the smooth, effortless ones you once knew. Instead, they came out in stutters and hesitations, like a rusty engine struggling to turn over.

"Th-th-that's... a b-b...bird," you managed, your voice breaking into a series of stutters.

James listened attentively, his expression unwavering.

James, ever patient and understanding, held up another flashcard, maintaining his reassuring presence. He had seen your determination and knew that progress was often marked by small, steady steps.

You looked at the new image on the flashcard, gathering your resolve once again. The previous stuttering attempt had not deterred you. With a deep breath and a sense of focus, you tried again.

"That's a... c-c-cat," you stammered, your voice still marked by hesitations and stutters.

James nodded approvingly, acknowledging your effort with a warm smile. Each word, no matter how challenging, was a testament to your resilience and determination.

James lifted another flashcard, his calm demeanor providing a reassuring backdrop for your efforts. He understood the significance of these small steps on your path to recovery and was there to support you every step of the way.

You focused on the new image before you, taking a moment to gather your thoughts. With a deep breath, you began to speak once more, your voice still marked by stutters and hesitations.

"That's a... d-d...dog," you managed, your determination shining through despite the challenges.

James nodded encouragingly, his smile warm and appreciative.

James, the dedicated speech therapist, held up a total of ten flashcards, one after the other. Each image presented a new challenge, a test of your ability to express yourself despite the obstacles in your path.

With unwavering patience, you faced each card, taking a deep breath before speaking. Your words, though marked by stutters and hesitations, emerged with determination and clarity. Ten times, you summoned the strength to name each object before you, each success a hard-earned victory in your journey to reclaim your voice.

James observed your progress with a sense of satisfaction, recognizing the strides you had made. He wore a gentle smile as he leaned in slightly, his voice filled with encouragement.

"Now, I'd like to take it a step further," he began, his tone still reassuring. "I'd like you to try speaking a few sentences. I believe you can do it."

You nodded your head, your confidence bolstered by the progress you had made with the flashcards. This felt like a significant step forward.

James handed you a piece of paper with several phrases on it. The sentences gradually grew longer, each one challenging you a bit more. It was a carefully crafted exercise to help you regain your ability to construct sentences and express yourself more fully.

He looked at you, offering his support.

"Whenever you're ready," he said, ready to listen and guide you through this next phase of your recovery.

The phrases on the page seemed like stepping stones on your path to recovery.

You looked at the first sentence, its simplicity contrasting with the complexity of your journey.

With a deep breath, you began to read it aloud, your voice still carrying the echoes of your previous stuttering attempts.

"I... like... to... pick... flowers," you managed, your voice steadier than before.

James nodded approvingly, his eyes filled with encouragement. The progress you had made in the short time you had been working together was remarkable.

He pointed to the next sentence, which was longer and more challenging.

"Take your time," he encouraged, ready to offer guidance if needed.

James, encouraged by your progress, nodded and presented another sentence. This time, the sentence was a bit longer, intended to further challenge your speaking abilities.

"Let's try this one," he said with a supportive smile, handing you the piece of paper. "Take your time, and whenever you're ready, go ahead and read it aloud."

You accepted the paper, your determination shining in your eyes. With a deep breath, you focused on the sentence before you, prepared to tackle this new challenge head-on.

“Exploring... new... horizons... broadens... our... perspectives.” you said, your words coming out with more fluency than before.

James nodded, his smile growing wider with pride.

"That was wonderful," he praised. "Your progress is truly remarkable."

He pointed to the next sentence on the page, which was even longer, yet he had full confidence that you were up to the challenge.

"Whenever you're ready," he encouraged, providing you with the space and support you needed to continue improving your speech.

James, the dedicated speech therapist, observed your readiness for the next challenge. With a supportive smile, he handed you the paper with the new sentence.

"Let's work on this one," he suggested kindly. "Remember to take your time and speak at your own pace."

You accepted the paper, your determination unwavering. You focused on the sentence, recognizing that it was longer than the previous ones but confident in your ability to meet the challenge.

With a deep breath, you began to speak, your voice gaining strength and fluency with each word. James watched, filled with pride at your progress, ready to offer guidance and support whenever you needed it.

As you finished reading the longer sentence, James couldn't contain his excitement. He clapped his hands together, the sound echoing with a sense of accomplishment. You looked up at him, tilting your head inquisitively.

With a beaming smile, James leaned in closer to you and spoke with genuine enthusiasm. "Your stutter has gone, and you're saying the sentences in full!"

Your eyes widened with joy and realisation. It was a moment of triumph, a sign that your journey to reclaim your voice was progressing even better than you had hoped. Your excitement bubbled over, and James, equally thrilled, wrapped you in a quick but heartfelt hug. It was a gesture of celebration and encouragement, a recognition of the significant strides you had made in your speech therapy.

With a warm smile, James expressed his delight at your progress. "I'm going to go inform the nurses at the station about your incredible improvement," he said. "And I'll be back in a few days to check up on you."

He then couldn't resist adding a lighthearted touch to the conversation. "You know," he chuckled, "when your husband comes into the room, you can surprise him with your newfound voice. I'm sure he'll be amazed."

James's positive energy and humor added a sense of camaraderie to your sessions, and you nodded with gratitude for his support. His dedication to your recovery was evident, and you looked forward to the day you could indeed surprise your husband with your progress.

12:07pm.

Around lunchtime, the door to your hospital room gently swung open, and in walked Harry, carrying a bag of Raising Cane's, the scent of delicious fried chicken filling the air. He had a warm smile on his face, relief and affection evident in his eyes as he saw you awake and alert.

He carefully placed the bag of food on the tray table, positioned at the edge of the bed, ensuring it was within your reach. Then, his eyes fixed on you, he leaned forward, closing the distance between you and placed a tender kiss on your lips. It was a kiss filled with love and longing, a silent expression of how much he had missed you during your recovery.

As he pulled away, he gazed into your eyes, his voice soft and filled with emotion.

"I brought y’favourite," he said, a hint of excitement in his tone, eager to share this moment with you. The sight of you awake and engaged was a testament to your resilience and strength, something he admired deeply.

Harry turned to refill your glass of water, his heart lighter with the knowledge that you were awake and speaking. As he poured the water, his mind was already occupied with thoughts of the delicious meal he had brought for you.

However, when he heard your voice, a voice he hadn't heard in days, his movements froze. The glass hovered over the pitcher, and his hands trembled ever so slightly. His eyes widened in astonishment as he slowly turned to look at you, a mixture of shock and joy dancing in his gaze.

"I didn't think I was allowed to eat," you said, your voice a little raspy but undeniably yours.

Harry's heart soared at the sound of your voice, and his lips curved into a wide, elated smile. He took a few steps closer to your bedside, setting the glass down with a gentle clink. Overwhelmed with emotion, he reached for your hand, his fingers intertwined with yours.

"Y’speakin’," he whispered, his voice filled with awe and relief, as if he had been granted a miracle.

Harry's heart raced as he rushed over to your bedside, his eyes fixed on you in disbelief. Carefully, he sat down on the edge of the bed, his hands trembling slightly as he reached out to pick up your hands. Gently, he brought them close to his face, pressing tender kisses to your wrists as if to confirm that this moment was real.

Tears glistened in his eyes as he looked at you, his voice quivering with emotion.

"Can’t believe it," he murmured, his breath hitching. "V’been ‘ere f’days, prayin’ t’hear y’voice again."

Even though you had been awake for a day, one thing he was craving was the sound of your voice, it was the one thing that made him feel same.

Before the accident, when he would get home from a heavy day full of meetings and executive decisions revolving the tour, he would come home exhausted and collapse onto either the sofa or the bed you shared, wherever you were that night and would lay his head on your lap, your hands running through his hair and your voice lulling him to a slumber with tales of what you did throughout the day, it was as if he was the same age as Alf.

His eyes never left yours, and he continued to place sweet kisses on your skin, each one a testament to the overwhelming relief and love he felt in that moment.

"Y’ave n’idea how much I missed you," he admitted, his voice barely more than a whisper, filled with a mix of gratitude and love.

Harry's fingers gently traced patterns on your palms as he leaned closer, his forehead resting against yours.

"Was so scared," he confessed, his voice cracking with vulnerability. "I couldn't bear the thought of losing you."

He pressed his lips to your forehead, a gentle and reassuring gesture.

"But y’here," he said, his voice steadier now, filled with determination. "And y’speaking, and m’so, so grateful."

Harry couldn't stop himself from leaning in and capturing your lips in a sweet, loving kiss. It was a kiss filled with months of worry, days of longing, and the promise of a future together. In that moment, he held you close, cherishing every second as if it were a precious gift.

As you pulled away from the sweet, lingering kiss, your fingers tenderly brushed under Harry's eyes, wiping away the glistening tear tracks that had formed there. You couldn't help but chuckle softly as you gazed at him, a playful glint in your eyes.

"Why did you bring food?" you asked, your voice filled with light-hearted amusement. "I thought I wasn't allowed to eat. The nurse explained about the IV and all."

Harry held onto your hands, his eyes never leaving yours. He chuckled, a warm, melodious sound that filled the room.

"Well," he began, his voice playful, "Was walking through t’ward, Nurse Lauren came up to me." He paused for dramatic effect, his lips curving into a mischievous grin. "S’told me they reviewed y’vitals’n’explained that y’could eat solid foods again."

You blinked in surprise, a smile spreading across your face. "They did?"

Harry nodded eagerly, his eyes filled with excitement.

"Ye’, they did. S’practically sprinted t’the Cane's next door, knowing s’y’absolute favorite."

You couldn't help but laugh, feeling a warm, fuzzy feeling spreading throughout your heart. "You really know how to make a girl feel special, don't you?"

Harry's smile grew wider, and he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"Only the very special ones," he whispered, his voice filled with love and adoration, "like you."

Recovery Day Three. — 17th August, 2023.

14:54pm.

The next day painted a stark contrast to the peacefulness of the previous day. As late afternoon sunlight filtered through the window, it did little to alleviate the tension in the room. Your face, contorted in anguish, told a different story.

You had decided to try and have a little nap whilst Harry departed your side to go and get your little love bug, you were tired, you would wake up during the night confused about where you were and just decided to close your eyes, even if it was for five minutes.

Lying in the hospital bed, you were locked in the grip of a restless nightmare. Your brow was furrowed, and a faint sheen of sweat clung to your forehead. The morning sun, instead of casting a gentle glow, seemed to intensify the torment of your dream.

Outside, the world buzzed with life, oblivious to the turmoil within. Your slumber was anything but serene, as you wrestled with unseen demons in the depths of your subconscious. The room, too, held its breath, but not in quietude; rather, it was a silent witness to the tumultuous nightmare that held you captive.

Despite the sunlight's attempt to illuminate the room, a pall of unease lingered, a stark reminder of the night's torment. In that moment, the hospital room became a battleground between your deepest fears and the fragile flicker of hope that sought to break through the darkness.

In the depths of this haunting nightmare, you found yourself ensnared in a nightmarish tableau. Behind the wheel, your hands clenched the steering wheel with an iron grip. Alfie was in the backseat, his voice a haunting crescendo of terror as he called out to you.

"Mommy! Mommy!" His tiny voice trembled with fear, echoing through the confines of the car.

Beside him, a baby girl, a chilling glimpse of the child growing within your belly, wailed inconsolably. Her cries were a haunting lament, a stark reminder of the fragile life depending on your protection.

The world outside the car window blurred into a nightmarish frenzy, colors blending into an incomprehensible whirl. Tires screeched, a discordant symphony of desperation. The vehicle careened out of control, spinning and swerving as if propelled by malevolent forces.

Then came the deafening crash, a cataclysmic collision that reverberated through your very core. The world exploded into chaos, metal screeching against metal, an eruption of sound and fury.

In this nightmare, you teetered on the edge of consciousness, imprisoned within the nightmarish wreckage of the car. Through half-shut eyes, you beheld the unimaginable horror unfurling in the backseat. Flames danced, fierce and relentless, licking at the edges of the car seats. Orange tendrils of death reached hungrily toward Alfie and the tiny, wailing baby girl.

"Mommy, help me!" Alfie's desperate pleas were a chilling refrain, his voice tinged with terror and helplessness.

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you strained against the invisible chains that bound you to the twisted metal. You could feel the unbearable heat, the scorching breath of the flames inching closer with every passing second.

The baby's cries grew louder, a heart-rending symphony of fear and agony. In this agonizing nightmare, you reached out a trembling hand, your fingers desperate to soothe the infant, to cradle her in safety. But the inferno was relentless, its searing fingers inching ever closer.

"Please, Mommy," Alfie's voice cracked with fear, his eyes wide with terror.

"I'm trying, Alfie," you whispered through trembling lips, your voice barely more than a quiver.

In this nightmarish realm, the scent of smoke filled your nostrils, the acrid taste of fear clinging to your tongue. Your heart pounded in your chest like a relentless drumbeat, and the weight of powerlessness bore down on you like an unyielding stone.

Flames engulfed the backseat, painting a hellish tableau of despair. It was a nightmare you couldn't escape, an agonizing loop of terror that clawed at your very soul. Your mind screamed for action, for salvation, but your body remained pinned, an immovable captive.

The cries of the baby grew louder, her tiny voice a heartbreaking plea for rescue. You stretched out your trembling hand, fingers straining toward her, a silent promise of protection. Yet, the flames danced ever nearer, their scalding touch tormenting your outstretched arm.

"Please, baby," you whispered, your voice choked with desperation.

In the midst of this living nightmare, you were rendered powerless, a witness to a tragedy unfolding before your eyes. The world dissolved into a surreal nightmare, where time seemed to stand still, and the relentless flames threatened to consume all you held dear.

The shrill, frantic beeping of the heart monitor filled the room, a discordant symphony of alarm that pierced the air. It was as though the nightmare from your dream had spilled into reality, an unrelenting cacophony of distress.

In an instant, the tranquility of the hospital room shattered. The door flew open, and a team of doctors and nurses rushed in, their faces etched with urgency and concern.

"What's happening?!" one of the doctors exclaimed, his voice taut with anxiety as he approached the bedside, his eyes darting between the monitor and your face.

Another nurse swiftly checked the vitals monitor, her fingers dancing over the buttons. "Her heart rate is skyrocketing! We need to stabilize her!"

A palpable tension filled the room as medical personnel worked in unison, their practiced movements a testament to their training. They adjusted IV lines, administered medications, and conferred in hurried, hushed tones.

Amidst the frantic activity, you felt a profound sense of helplessness, trapped within the confines of your own body. Your heart raced uncontrollably, its furious pounding echoing in your ears.

The lead doctor, a seasoned figure with a commanding presence, addressed the team. "We need to get this under control now. Administer sedatives if necessary, and prepare for an EKG. We can't afford to lose her."

With a sense of urgency, they acted swiftly, the room becoming a whirlwind of activity. Amid the commotion, your fear and desperation were evident in your wide, frightened eyes.

Just when the doctors and nurses thought your condition had stabilized, a sudden jolt coursed through your body. Your limbs convulsed uncontrollably, your fingers clawing at the sheets, and your eyes rolled back as a seizure gripped you with merciless force.

Panic filled the room once more as medical professionals scrambled into action. They lowered the bed's side rails to prevent you from falling, their faces tense with worry.

15:10pm.

Harry leaned against the school gates, patiently waiting for the school day to end. His eyes scanned the children as they poured out of the building, searching for Alfie among the crowd.

As he stood there, a woman with a confident stride approached him. She flashed a flirtatious smile and initiated a conversation, "Well, hello there. You must be Alfie's dad, right?"

Harry nodded, offering a polite smile. "Ye’, S’me. M’here t’pick ‘im up."

The woman, her tone flirtatious and forward, continued, "I've seen you here a few times before. You're a handsome dad, you know. What's your name?"

Harry chuckled nervously, feeling a bit taken aback by her directness. "M’Harry. Nice t’meet ya’."

She leaned in closer, her gaze fixed on his left hand. "Harry, huh? And are you married, Harry?"

Harry held up his left hand, showing his wedding ring. "Ye’, M’happily married,been married almost five years in fact."

Undeterred, the woman's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Happily, you say? Well, you know, sometimes a little excitement outside of marriage can be... refreshing."

Harry raised an eyebrow, a clear signal that her advances were unwelcome. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm quite committed t’m’wife."

The woman seemed slightly disappointed but didn't give up easily. "Well, if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me."

The bell rang, and the main doors of the school swung open, releasing a flood of excited children, all eager to reunite with their parents. Among the crowd, Alfie emerged, his face lighting up as soon as he spotted his father.

With a joyful shout of "Daddy!" Alfie dashed toward Harry, his small feet carrying him as fast as they could. Harry crouched down, ready to catch his son, and as Alfie reached him, he scooped him up in a warm embrace.

"Daddy's ‘ere, buddy," Harry said with a grin, feeling the energy of Alfie's hug and seeing the paint stains on his school uniform. "Did y’have a good day at school?"

Alfie nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah, we painted today! Look at this, Daddy!" He proudly displayed his hands, covered in a rainbow of paint colors.

Harry chuckled, looking at his son's colorful hands. "Wow, y’quite the artist, Alf! Let's get y’cleaned up before we go see mummy."

15:27pm.

Harry and Alfie had just entered the bustling ward when a sudden commotion erupted from your room. Doctors and nurses hurried in and out, their faces filled with urgency, and the chaotic energy in the corridor was palpable. Harry's heart clenched with worry as he instinctively tightened his grip on Alfie's hand.

Harry and Alfie quickened their pace, the corridor seeming to stretch endlessly as they rushed toward your room. The knot of dread in Harry's stomach tightened with every step. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.

As they reached the doorway, Harry's heart plummeted in his chest. There, on the hospital bed, you were having a seizure, your body convulsing uncontrollably. The sight was both horrifying and heart-wrenching. Harry's legs felt like lead, but he forced himself to move closer, his grip on Alfie's hand never wavering.

The sight of you having a seizure was too much for Harry to bear. In that harrowing moment, he couldn't maintain his composure any longer. He released Alfie's hand, and his legs gave way beneath him. Harry fell to his knees outside your hospital room, his hands trembling as he watched you convulsing, unable to do anything but feel the sheer helplessness wash over him.

Alfie stood there, wide-eyed and frightened, looking at his father on the floor and then back at you. His small world was unravelling before his eyes, and he had no idea how to make sense of it. Harry wanted to be strong for his son, but the overwhelming fear and concern for you had shattered his resolve, leaving him vulnerable and devastated.

A doctor yelled above all the commotion that was taking place, directing his speech to one of the nurses. His voice sounded desperate, he needed to help you as quickly as possible.

"Seizure activity!" one of the nurses called out, her voice strained as she rushed to retrieve necessary medications and equipment.

The lead doctor called for additional assistance, his voice urgent and commanding. "We need a crash cart, now!"

tag-list: @itsgigikay @kuntxrgraudunkelbunt @emgoldenharry @cat-loves-music @be-with-me-so-happily @cherrycolas-things @white-wolf-buckaroo @gem1712 @sleutherclaw @viktorialah @woody32271 @alienorknight @psicoatyles

[kquil]

🍪 : cookie with Remus and giving their baby a bath. Like sitting in the tub together and bathing the baby 😭💕

A/N : here's the final installment of this mini series! i hope you darlings enjoy!

“What the?” Remus exclaims as you suddenly enter with nothing but a towel wrapped around you and your naked son held up against your hip. 

“Da!” little Alfie squeals in delight at the sight of his father and immediately reaches his arms out to him. At the sight of your son’s tiny hands making grabbing motions at Remus, you promptly comply and hand him over to your husband. As Alfie immediately takes to the water and splashes about, disturbing your husband’s peace and stretching an amused grin across his lips, you rummage around to get out a few of Alfie’s bath toys. You settle with a classic yellow rubber duck, a blue spurting whale and a little floating plastic boat. 

Remus watches as you place the toys in the bath before unwrapping the towel around you and hanging it up. As your husband helps your son sink (for the little bubbles) and unsink his little boat (to do it over again - for the bubbles), you slip into the water on the other side of the tub with another plastic boat in your hands. 

“Alfie look~” you steal his attention in the midst of him hitting the plastic boat against the surface of the water over and over again. Once you have his full attention, you let your little boat sail peacefully across your side of the tub with a gentle push. Observing your actions, your son mimics what you do before clapping and looking up at you for approval, “well done Alfie~” you praise gently, watching fondly as your son smiles with a giggle before turning to your husband with the same look. 

“Good job, Al,” Remus muses in his deep, soothing voice. In his father’s hold, Alfie attempts to climb up Remus’s chest and does so with the help of your husband’s supporting hands against his sides, “what are you up to buddy?”

“Da! Da!” Alfie calls.

“That’s me,” you smile at their adorable interaction and sigh in relief. This was the right choice. Remus had been quite exhausted after the full moon a few days ago, even when the boys came over to transform with him as animagi, you can tell that the recent transformation took a lot out of him. He’s been so exhausted and lethargic recently that he couldn't bear you and Alfie catching sight of him outside your usual check ups and meal deliveries. But you and Alfie missed him dearly, he had been so fussy without his father, so this was your attempt at finally confronting Remus of his horrible avoidance habit without actually confronting him. It was then when Alfie placed a small hand over the uneven texture of a scar across Remus’s cheek. Of course your son is smart, even from a young age — he is Remus’s afterall. 

“What a smartie pants,” you coo, inching forward to kneel in between Remus’s legs as you bring up a hand to lovingly stroke back his hair, “just like his father,”

Tears surface in Remus’s eyes as he sees pure, unadulterated love filling your eyes and the guilt of it all makes his chest tighten. It’s almost too much to bear and he makes the mistake of looking at his son again, who coos happily in his arms, gently patting at his scar with a smile, “I’m ashamed…” I should trust you more by now…

“Don’t be Rem,” you kiss his temple sweetly, “Alfie and I just missed you so much, didn’t we, hon?” you ask softly, giggling at the look Alfie gives you after seeing how you kissed your husband. It’s the look he usually gives you when he wants a kiss too so you lean down and comply with your son’s silent plea. With a kiss on his tiny button nose, he instantly became a giggling mess. 

“I missed you too…” Remus smiles and kisses Alfie’s forehead before leaning forward to capture your lips in a kiss as well. It would have been a long, love-filled kiss if it weren’t for your son attacking you with a spray of water using his Whale toy. 

“I guess he just missed being a nuisance huh?” Remus says in amusement and raises his giggling son out of the water to blow raspberries against his plush belly.   

“He gets that from you~” you tease and Remus smirks, all too proud of his origins as a Marauder, causing havoc throughout Hogwarts. 

“He’ll be sure to get a pretty lady in the future then,” Remus hums thoughtfully as Alfie takes his whale toy and sinks it into the water, watching in awe at the bubbles that surface above it. 

“Why’s that?” 

“Because causing trouble got me you and you’re the prettiest lady around,”

1K MILESTONE EVENT | NAVI.

[st-eve-barnes]

You know that I'm no good (chapter 6)

(Modern Aegon x fem Reader, Modern Sihtric x fem Reader)

Summary: You want Sihtric. Aegon wants Skade. There's only one small problem: Sihtric and Skade are dating each other.

This chapter: things get messy with Aegon and Sihtric, alcohol isn't always a good idea, sometimes Helaena is a bad adviser and drunken confessions don't really count, do they?

Warning for the entire series: 18+ for explicit language and smut. Angst/comfort/fluff. Fake dating and so much mutual pining. Mentions of depression/drinking/self harm.

This is an Aegon x Reader fic with a bit of Sihtric x Reader on the side. I've wanted to write a modern AU that combines The Last Kingdom and House of the dragon for a while now so here it is!

Word count: +2900

Masterlist

***

All my fics are also on AO3

***

You didn’t find Aegon again that night. You weren’t sure whether he was avoiding you or just letting you enjoy your time with Sihtric but both options bothered you. And the fact that it bothered you so much bothered you even more.

You shouldn’t even care, Aegon wasn’t your boyfriend and it wasn’t like you were in love with him so why should you care?

You weren’t in love with him. Absolutely not. You couldn’t be, it was Aegon for god’s sake. It was just a stupid crush, nothing more. It would pass, soon. Hopefully.

It was Friday night and for the fifth time in ten minutes you stared at your phone. No messages and no missed calls.

You had the entire night to watch Netflix in peace, Stranger Things was staring back at you from the screen, all you had to do was click Next Episode. 

But you couldn’t care less. All you wanted was for Aegon to call or text you and mess up your plans.

You sighed and let yourself fall down onto the couch, annoyed with everything but mostly yourself.

“Fuck it,” you grabbed your phone and decided to text Helaena.

“What are you doing tonight?”

She answered in less than a minute,“Chilling at home, why? Wanna do something?”

“Yes, please, anything, I just need to get out of the house.”

“Wanna grab a drink at Alfies?” she suggested.

“Yes!”

“I’ll meet you there in an hour!”

Alfies was a small, quiet bar near the town’s square where you and Helaena spent a lot of nights out during your years at university. It had been a while since you were last here but walking into the place was like stepping back in time, it still looked exactly the same and you felt at ease right away. 

Helaena already found you a spot at a table near the bar and you quickly made your way over to her. Before you sat down you gave her a quick hug.

“Thank you,” you whispered,”I really needed this tonight, Hel, you have no idea.”

“No worries,” she smiled up at you,”You know I’m here for you if you need anything. And every excuse to go out is fine by me.”

You both ordered more drinks, the combination of the alcohol, the Friday night atmosphere in the bar and Helaena’s funny work stories had you feeling better in no time and soon you were laughing with her and forgetting all about her stupid brother.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Helaena said after a while, noticing you seemed a lot more relaxed than when you’d first sat down,”Want to tell me why you were feeling down?”

“Not really,” you tried to duck the question and took another sip from your drink.”Just work I guess,” you added.

“You love your work, quit lying.”

You sighed, both impressed and a little annoyed that she could always read you so well.

“Okay, fine, you want the truth?” 

You should have stopped yourself right there, but the beers had loosened up your tongue and there was this ever growing need to just vent and pour your heart out to your best friend.

“It’s Aegon,” you confessed with a heavy sigh,”I might…have developed a little crush on your brother.”

That was the understatement of the year.

Helaena didn’t react at first, she just took you in and then nodded her head calmly, almost too calmly which scared you a little.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” you asked.

“What can I say? You’re clearly not listening to anything I tell you about Aegon.”

“I’m sorry,” you hid your face into your hands,”I’m sorry, I’m being such a bad friend, I know, I just…can’t help it.”

“Yes, you can but you don’t want to,” Helaena pointed out.

You hated to admit she wasn’t entirely wrong.“Okay, fine, I don’t want to,” you admitted.

Helaena nodded and leaned back,”I won’t nag you about Aegon anymore if you promise to do one little thing for me. We’re friends so I can ask you, right?”

“What is it?” you asked hesitantly.

“We’re in a bar right now and looking around I can see quite a few good-looking, nice guys.”

“Hel,” you tried to stop her but she raised her hand to stop you.

“I want you to get drunk and go home with one of these guys, you get to pick, it just can’t be my brother.”

You shook your head.

“Unless it’s Aemond,” she added,”You can fuck Aemond if you want.”

You both turned to look at Aemond who was sitting in a corner booth, enjoying his drink while ignoring everyone else.

“I don’t want to fuck Aemond,” you quickly shut down that idea.

“Okay, anyone except my brothers then, I just…you need it, babe. Getting some will clear your head, like…a factory reset, turn you on and off so you can function properly again. Because the girl I’m seeing right now is not acting like my friend. My best friend would not be dumb enough to fall in love with Aegon of all people!”

Helaena never raised her voice, and she still didn't, but there was a hard determination to her tone right now you had never heard from her before.

Her words upset you but you couldn’t really blame her. Just last month you probably would have fully agreed with her.

“Can you do that for me?” she then asked, softer.

“I feel like you’re not the best influence right now,” you pointed out.

“Maybe so but neither are you.”

You nodded,”Okay…fine, but if I do this and it does nothing for me you have to stop bitching about Aegon.”

“I promise.” 

“Fine,” you caved,”Then I’ll do it, but only because you’re my best friend. And I need more alcohol first.”

Four more beers were enough to get you just tipsy enough to come out of your shell, and your seat, and mingle at the bar. You remembered guys often tried to pick you up here during your university years, it never resulted in anything though because you weren’t the type for one nigh stands back then. You still weren’t, but these past weeks you’d done a lot of things you hadn’t done before. What was one more, right?

The first guys you’d talked to bored you within minutes and you realized this was going to be harder than you initially thought, but you didn’t intend on giving up so soon. Maybe more alcohol would make them more fun. 

After two more beers you had finally found a guy who wasn’t too bad looking and actually pleasant to talk to. He’d lived in Winchester all his life and you both talked about your favorite spots in the city, the conversation flowed pretty easily and you ignored the fact that he was probably even more drunk than you were at this point. 

And the fact that you weren’t even sure you really wanted to do this, but if it would get Helaena off your back for a while then it might be worth it.

And she was right about one thing, it wouldn’t hurt to finally get some dick again. You had been unusually horny lately.

But just as you were about to ask the guy to get out of there another girl came up to him accusing him of cheating on her best friend. Needless to say that was the end of that conversation.

“Ugh, men suck,” you sighed to yourself and took another sip from your beer.

“I apologize, my lady.”

The familiar voice made you look up and you stared right into his beautiful eyes, one blue and one brown, and that sweet, flirty smile he seemed to reserve for you.

“Sihtric,” you sighed, relieved at seeing a familiar, not to mention gorgeous, face.

“Lady Y/N,” he moved closer to you and pointed towards your empty glass,”Can I buy you another one of those?”

“I think I’ve probably had enough,” you confessed, breaking eye contact for a moment”But thank you. That comment wasn’t meant for you, by the way.”

”Good to know,” he nodded,”So, um…Aegon not with you tonight?” 

You smiled bitterly,”No, Aegon is…I don’t know where Aegon is.”

“You guys break up?” he asked, a little too hopeful.

“No, I…actually I don’t know.”

He kept his eyes on you,”Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you no longer tried to avoid looking at him but instead gave into his flirty stare and allowed yourself to drown into his  gaze. ”Actually, no,” you confessed,”I’m not.”

“Anything I can do?” he asked softly and then he leaned closer, placing his hand on your waist,”Do you need a lift home? Or someone to talk to? I'm a good listener."

You gave him a thankful smile."You're really sweet."

He blushed a little with your compliment and gently rubbed your back before meeting your eyes again,"Tell me what you need."

Your mouth opened to speak but the words remained stuck in your throat.

"Wanna get out of here?," he then asked,"Get some air?”

You nodded.

Sihtric kept his hand protectively on your lower back, allowing you to lean into him to stay steady on your feet, while he guided you out of the bar.

As soon as you reached the front door and were out into the fresh air you both let go of each other, but not for long.

It was the alcohol, combined with the lingering promise you had made to Helaena. And the fact that you’d been horny as hell for weeks now and that maybe she was right and you did just need to get dicked down. Preferably by a hot, sweet guy like Sihtric.

You grabbed his hand again and pulled him with you, trapping yourself between his body and the wall behind you, your eyes meeting his in a silent plea. He placed one hand on your waist and rested the other against the wall, right next to your face, as he leaned in.

“Want me to take your mind off him?” he whispered while gently nuzzling your cheek. You grabbed his shirt to pull him closer and nodded your head.

His lips met yours in a soft, needy kiss and you moaned into it right away. It was all the encouragement he needed, hand sliding down your hip while the other moved into your hair. He deepened the kiss while placing himself in between your legs, pressing into you and letting you feel his hardness. You rocked back against him, just as impatient, and you both moaned at the friction.

Sihtric’s mouth moved down to your neck, licking and sucking your skin and your eyes closed in a blissful sigh. His kisses were sloppy and needy and it made you throb in all the right places.

“Fuck,” you whined.

He smiled against your skin.“You want this, right?” he checked.

You nodded eagerly,”Yes, I want this.”

He pulled your leg up around his waist and started grinding against your center, letting you feel all of him this time and there was a lot of him.

“Sihtric,” you moaned quietly when he placed little love bites on your neck.

Your hips were moving along with his, his cock giving you that perfect friction and if he kept doing this any longer you were going to fall apart just from this. Your eyes closed and you bit your lip to keep yourself from moaning too loud. 

And then you made the mistake of opening them up again and looking over Sihtric’s shoulder.

Blond messy hair and gorgeous, very familiar, angry blue eyes were staring right back at you. With a surprised yelp you pushed Sihtric off of you.

“What the hell?” Sihtric’s shock was short-lived when he saw Aegon.”Oh shit…hey, I’m sorry, man, I didn’t mean to…I thought…she…”

Aegon wasn’t showing any emotion apart from the undeniable fire in his eyes, aimed right at Sihtric,”Can I please talk to my girlfriend?”

“Yeah, of course, I’m sorry,” Sihtric looked at you one last time, mouthing “sorry” again before he quickly fled the scene, leaving you alone with Aegon.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, calmly.

“Me?! What the hell do you think you’re doing??” you threw back, a lot less calm than him,”Are you stalking me or something?"

"I was just on my way home."

"Well, be on your way then! I was having a good time before you showed up.”

“Against the wall of the fucking bar? For the whole of Winchester to see?”

You looked around and only now noticed there were more people around than you had initially noticed and too many of them had their eyes on you. You wanted the ground to open up and swallow you. 

There is no way you would have done what you just did with Sihtric in a public place like this if you’d been sober.

“I didn’t…notice that,” you admitted quietly.

“No, I didn’t think so," Aegon answered, too smug for your liking," Whose stupid idea was this, huh, did he talk you into this?”

“Actually it was Helaena.”

Aegon’s eyes widened.”Why on earth would Hel tell you to fuck…”

“It doesn’t matter now,” you interrupted him, wanting desperately to get out of this conversation. You suddenly felt exposed in every way and you wrapped your arms around yourself and sighed deeply.

Aegon's irritation fell immediately upon seeing your obvious discomfort.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, shaking off his frustration,”It's just…you looked pretty drunk and I didn't know if he was...I just wanted to make sure you didn’t do something you’ll regret later.”

You scoffed.“For your information I’m not that drunk, but thank you, oh my knight in shining armor for saving me from the insanely hot guy before he could make me cum. How will I ever repay you?”

Aegon’s gaze turned hard again and he avoided your eyes. You tried to walk past him, showing him just how annoyed you were with him, but your legs were wobbly and your head was light. You were struggling to keep your balance and you bumped into him, hard.

Aegon’s hands came to rest on your hips, keeping you steady and then his eyes were on yours, his gaze unexpectedly soft.“Not that drunk, huh?” he teased with a little smirk.

You wished so hard you could stay mad at him but when he looked at you like that all your anger faded. You hated how much you couldn't even hate him.

Maybe Aegon was right, maybe you would have regretted sleeping with Sihtric once all the alcohol had left your body and you were able to think straight again. Maybe it would have been the worst mistake of your life. 

Or maybe it wouldn’t have been. Maybe it would have been amazing and exactly what you needed to push Aegon out of your mind. You would never know now.

But one thing was undoubtedly true: deep down in your heart you knew Sihtric wasn’t your first choice. Not anymore.

Your first choice was staring at you with genuine concern in his big, beautiful eyes and your heart was breaking with how much you felt for him.

“Aegs,” your voice was nothing but a pleading whisper, hands grabbing at his shirt.

His hands were still resting on your hips and he pulled you a little closer to him, his voice nothing but softness now,”Want me to take you home, sweetheart?”

You nodded.

The walk wasn’t far but without Aegon to lean on you weren’t sure you would have made it there in one piece. He helped you up the stairs to your apartment and onto your couch, where you sank down with a dramatic sigh and let your head fall back into the cushions.

“God, I am never drinking again,” you stated, making him laugh.

“That’ll pass.”

He let himself sink down next to you on the couch,”Can I get you anything? Food? Water? A bucket?”

You laughed but firmly shook your head.”I’m good...can you stay for a while though?”

You turned your head to look at him, meeting his soft eyes again and Aegon nodded.

“Sure,” he whispered,”As long as you want.”

“Thank you."

“You’re welcome. And I’m sorry if I ruined your night,” he spoke softly, looking into your eyes, your faces right next to each other now,”I shouldn’t have interfered.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” you reassured him,”The truth is…you were right, I was pretty drunk, still am, and I probably would have regretted that in the morning. So...it's fine, don't worry about it.”

Aegon smiled and then neither of you spoke for a while. The room felt too quiet and you bit your tongue, realizing you should swallow your next words and not make things more complicated. But the alcohol in your blood disagreed and thought this would be the perfect time for total honesty.

“Aegs...I didn’t really want to fuck Sihtric, you know,” you confessed,”I only did it because…”

You sighed deeply and Aegon leaned in to look into your eyes,“What is it, baby?”

“I only did it so I could forget about you,” you whispered, regretting the words as soon as they left your lips.

Aegon was staring at you, unable to speak or process your words for a moment. The room was suddenly spinning even though he hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol and the way you were looking up at him through your lashes, your gaze so sincere and innocent, it was too much for him to handle. It took everything in him not to pull you into his lap and kiss you right there but he didn’t.

Instead he just took your hand and squeezed it softly.

“It’s okay,” you smiled weakly,”I know you don’t feel that way about me and it’s fine. It'll pass.”

“Look at me,” he pleaded.

You did as he asked, immediately drowning into those pools of blue.

“You know that’s not true, right?” he then whispered.

“’What? No, it’s...its fine,” you were slurring over your words now,”You don’t need to say anything, I just…wanted you to know…you would have been my first choice.”

He bit his lip and then swallowed hard, shaking his head,“You’re drunk, baby, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do, I do know what I’m saying,” you insisted but your words came out all wrong again.

Aegon just shook his head with a smile and then his eyes were on yours again,“I’m the last person you want to fall in love with, sweetheart, trust me on that.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m no good,” he simply answered, looking away while giving you the saddest smile you’d ever seen on him, which of course only made you want him more.

”But you are,” you disagreed, keeping your eyes on him even as he tried so hard to avoid yours,”You are good, Aegon, I know you are, I can see it in you.”

“You don’t know me at all, love,” he whispered and moved away from you on the couch”You should just go to bed now, sleep it off. You'll feel better in the morning.”

“Will you stay?” you asked him.

He shook his head,”I really shouldn’t.”

“Please, I don’t want to be alone, you have to watch over me as I sleep, I could get a concussion.”

Aegon couldn’t help it, his lips curled up into an amused smile,”That’s only when you bump your head not when you’re drunk.”

“Oh,” you smiled and then ended up in a laughing fit, making Aegon shake his head.

“God, you’re so stupid,” he smiled fondly, no longer able to not look at you,"And so drunk."

“You’re stupid,” you teased him.

“Fine, I’ll stay with you,” he caved,”Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself in your sleep.”

You smiled satisfied,”You can sleep in my bed with me.”

“Absolutely not, I’m taking the couch.”

You pouted at him, giving him your best sad puppy eyes.

“Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Look at me like that, it…makes it really hard for me to say no to you.”

“That’s the point,” you grinned and you reached for him again but Aegon just grabbed your arms to stop you.

“Go to bed, please, I’ll stay here in case you need anything but I am not sleeping with you.”

You pouted again and pulled away from him,”Pfff, you’re no fun, I thought you were the fun Targaryen but you're worse than Aemond.”

Aegon just smiled and shook his head at your attempt at insulting him,"Go to bed."

"Fine," you turned your back on him,"But it's your loss."

Aegon just watched you go and waited until you were in your bedroom before he let himself fall down onto your couch with a quiet grunt.”Yeah, I know.”

[look-at-the-soul]

The Photoshoot -Peaky Blinders edition

Modern Tommy Shelby x reader (+Alfie)

Summary: Y/N is hired to do a Photoshoot at a pub, but she’ll find much more than just an object to capture.

Word count: 4,500

A/N: I’m practically drooling with the Photoshoot series (for Cillian), so I thought why not give it some kind of twist and create the same magic for the peaky world… my dear @raincoffeeandfandoms this is for you! For your 3K followers celebration 🎉 thank you for being a lovely mutual, for your kindness, for your stories, I’m so grateful that I’ve met you here ✨ps: there are two moodboards as part of this story 🤭

Ps2: if you’re ever to Texas let me know! The bar that’s mentioned in the story is real! And it gave me all the peaky blinders Garrison’s vibe 😍 and brisket is OMG!

“Look at the numbers brother.” Arthur walked in without knocking first into his brother’s office.

Deep blue orbs hardly looking away from his laptop as Arthur placed the papers with numbers and graphics next to his glass of whiskey.

“Hmm.”

“The place is packed again.” Arthur’s mustache moved up and down as he smiled pleased.

Tommy took the almost consumed cigarette from the ashtray and took a long puff as he ran his eyes across the papers.

“That’s great brother.”

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation, two pairs of eyes looked back.

“Arthur, the photographer is downstairs.” Lizzie announced.

“Are you a model now Art?” Tommy cocked an eyebrow.

Arthur giggled nervously, but shook his head. “Finn hired her to get photos of the place for our social media.”

“Fucking social media.” Tommy mumbled to himself, it was all everyone was talking about lately, are you posting that? That’s so asthetic, why didn’t you like my post?… he was so done with that shit.

“But works like a charm, look.” Arthur showed him the screen of his phone, a video of someone making a cocktail and then the door to The Tavern. “We’re getting lots of likes and comments.”

Tommy hummed, he had been listening a lot about this photographer lately and all the fantastic work she was doing with the pub. And now he had to admit curiosity was winning over.

Secretly he had been watching her photography media, the videos she created to give tips and tricks to achieve certain images or effects, she was a natural and had a very sharp eye to find little gems everywhere. It was such a surprise and a treat to see flirty sneak peek she shared about the pub. He was particularly curious about the profile photo of her Instagram account, because her face was hidden behind the camera, he could only see a blurry reflection in a mirror

An incoming call kept him busy for a while as he was trying to solve a problem with one of the tobacco vendors, a new law affected the price and now he was in the middle of an endless negotiation.

It was until a few hours later when he finally called for the night at the pub and decided to head somewhere else, one look at his phone and he practically had a catalog to choose from, these women weren’t exactly discreet or lady-like…

Placing the peaky cap on his head and he stopped on his tracks as his eyes fixed on the woman holding the camera in front of the bar, her hair in a messy bun at the top of her head with a few loose locks here and there, she adjusted something and a bright light focused on a couple of empty glasses.

He observed her checking the camera angle and she walked again towards the bar to adjust one of the glasses she previously placed.

After blinking for the flash, she focused on the screen placed at the end of the bar.

Tommy saw her smile forming from the side and felt as if time stopped suddenly.

The petite form moved to the side with the light and tripod close to her and without saying anything, she captured the captain of The Tavern placing an order.

“Sorry, I wanted to capture your natural essence, without posing.” She announced in a soft tone that had a lot of effects on Tommy. “Look! You’ve a nice profile.”

As she showed Pablo her camera, Tommy saw him smile shyly.

“You make me look good.”

“Can I squeeze in behind the bar? I’d like to get a few shoots of the barrels.”

“Of course.” He winked. “All yours.”

As Pablo moved back, she squeezed uncomfortably between him and the bar, holding her camera above her head.

She removed a piece of cloth to the side and then Tommy saw her do something equally weird and funny, as she closed one eye from different heights, he was fascinated by the way she moved and arched her body to capture the image she wanted. After a few clicks, she kept staring at the small screen in the camera.

“Can I have a pint please?” A deep voice startled her.

Looking from side to side she blinked nervously.

Struggling to find her voice at the bluest eyes of them all staring back at her with a smile. “Sorry, errm I’m just a photographer.”

“Oh! Apologies then, I didn’t see the camera.” Tommy lied leaning closer to the bar and extending his hand to her. “Thomas Shelby.”

“Y/N Y/LN. I better get going and leave you to a real bartender.” She chuckled and the dim light didn’t hide her blush.

“‘S okay… how’s The Photoshoot going?”

“Great! I’m in love with this place.”

“Are you drinking something?” He asked as she walked around the bar to stand in front of him now.

“Just water, I’m in working hours.”

“I’m sure the owner won’t mind a glass.” Tommy winked at her.

“Thank you, but I don’t think it’d be appropriate.”

“A snack then? Have you tried something from the menu yet?” Tommy tried again, raising his hand he called for the closest waiter. “Make sure to provide Y/N with anything she needs please, on the house she’s our guest tonight.”

Y/N gave him a confused look before realizing how he matched the atmosphere of the place in total sync. He belonged there, he owned such an interesting presence, elegant, business-like, a troublemaker. As he nodded, she went back to focus on her task, the one thing that was consistent in her life; her love for photography, to capture an instant, not noticing that Tommy instead of going home to an unknown blonde, stayed close to the bar to see her work.

The following days, Tommy took a moment to step out of his office upstairs once he heard she had arrived, he would casually walk past her and sit in a corner where he could see her working, not wanting to interrupt her in the middle of shooting something at the pub.

Even if it was for a brief moment, they’d engage in a interesting conversation.

Arthur even teased him for leaving his cave for once, oblivious to the real reason behind his actions, he’d just brush it off saying he wanted to see people’s reaction over the drinks and he even made a few adjustments in the music choices that were being played.

But deep down, he was really enjoying seeing Y/N in her element as she kept pressing the shutter.

As she finished another day of photos, she placed the camera strap around her neck, ready to pick up her equipment. Secretly she was looking forward to see certain Shelby brother around.

“Ready to go Miss Y/LN?” A deep voice called.

Y/N turned around to find Tommy in one of the booths.

He stood up slowly, giving her this predator vibe and walked towards the bar, leaving her speechless for an instant.

“Sorry to ask you this, but… would you mind if I take your portrait?”

He never posed for pictures, but there was something about her that made him say yes to anything she asked. So he listened to her guidance and leaning against the bar, he looked at something in the opposite wall.

“Hold it for me…”

Click.

She didn’t even use the extra light on him, his cheekbones caught it effortlessly, and his eyes… she wanted to make a whole photoshoot for them.

“Yeah, I gotta start editing tonight to put together the work and hand you guys the final version.”

“So you’ll be done with the project?” He asked without hiding the disappointment in his voice, but soon he cleared his throat.

The hostess walked past him, trying to get his attention, but his eyes were fixed on Y/N’s.

“Is there anything you might need to carry on?”

She bit her lip.

“Actually yes, I’d like to get a few shoots of the place without customers, if that’s possible.”

She saw him produce a smile and a nod. “Stop by tomorrow at eleven o’clock before the doors are open to the public.”

“I really appreciate it.” She sighed and threw a quick glance at the place. “The design and vibe makes me go back in time to one of those pubs from back in the day.”

“That’s exactly what I wanted to achieve.” Tommy smiled proudly dragging his eyes around the room.

“Well you have good luck, I’m here to capture the beauty of this place and immortalize so more people can know about it.”

“A woman with a strong drive and passion I reckon?” He guessed giving her a nod in approval.

“Photography is one of the rare tools that help us remember someone or something forever.”

She made him remember an ancient photograph he kept of his mother as the most precious treasure he possessed. It was a bit damaged on the edges and the paper was so old and fragile but it still held such sentimental value.

That was all he got left of her.

Sensing she touched a sensitive matter she excused herself to continue photographing the place while he was watching her every move intensely. Canceling the original plans he had for some booty call.

***

Y/N cursed herself for not hiring an assistant for the day to help with the lights, computer and camera, but these days it was a luxury she couldn’t afford. Luckily she wouldn’t be photographing people as they were harder to deal with, barely paid attention to the clothing suggestions she’d made or taking any instructions in general.

“Need a hand with that?” A husky voice called from behind her back, she had been so focused on planning to how get everything in just one round to avoid the stairs twice that she never noticed Tommy had been watching her.

“Hmm…” a blush covered her completely, it was impossible to not being smitten by his presence. “I don’t wanna bother you.”

“None of that, gimme.” He mumbled with the cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth.

“Thank you.” She smiled but soon it was replaced by a gasp when he took the laptop case and lights from her, his hands covered in leather gloves holding the equipment as it weighed nothing.

Climbing the stairs, Tommy couldn’t stop himself from looking at her bum swaying from side to side as she took the steps, that sweet little thing had a huge impact on him.

“You can leave it here, I’ll set up the lights, thanks again.”

“My pleasure, if you need anything just shout.”

She saw him disappear upstairs and decided to shake her head a little because his cologne was too masculine that it was even intoxicating and her heart was beating so fast.

The place offered her a million different perspectives to shoot, she loved catching the lights of the vintage chandeliers, the details on the booths were absolutely gorgeous, the bar, she was in love with every touch she discovered through her camera lenses.

Adjusting the height of the tripod, she got a fabulous shoot of the private area with comfortable couches, the oil lamp was a lovely detail that captivated her.

Time flew, she got carried away with the endless images she was capturing.

With a content sigh, she pressed the shutter one more time, to immortalize part of the table with a Reserved sign, the oil lamp blurred, but the final shoot looked fantastic.

Two things happened simultaneously; her stomach protested for the cup of coffee and the granola bar she eat for breakfast and Tommy emerged from the kitchen.

“Not to hurry you or anything, but are you done there?” Tommy’s voice startled her, she noticed he wasn’t wearing the suit jacket, he had the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, showing his forearms.

“Yeah, got everything I wanted.” She answered adding a lovely smile.

“Good, now.. this way.” He motioned her to follow him and held the door open. “Pictures here are forbidden just a little FYI, specially because you’re about to taste a piece of heaven.”

That’s when she realized he had been working in the kitchen all this time.

“Oh! That sounds promising.”

“It is.” He reassured her. “But I need your honest opinion though.”

Tommy turned around to face the grill again, pressing the sandwich.

“Finn told me he saw you taking photos of a building and asked you to do a shooting for us.”

Y/N studied his back, broad shoulders, the sides and back of his head was shaved sharply, intimidating posture. Yet somehow it was a huge contrast while he was enjoying preparing the food.

“Yes, it was a new condo and I had already done the interior photos, so he photobombed one of my shoots.”

“That’s such a Finn thing to do.” Tommy chuckled. “But I’m glad he did, so now you’re taking care of our media.”

Placing a plate in front of her, he added a separate bowl full of French fries. Her mouth was watering so bad.

“You’re not going to complain about the calories, are you?”

Closing her eyes at the taste, she ran her tongue over her lower lip to remove the crumbs. To Tommy it was a simple gesture that had a different -sexual- effect on him.

“You were right, this is heaven.”

Y/N took a bite of the brisket sandwich and a small satisfied groan escaped her mouth.

“I didn’t see this on the menu last time I was here. It’s so good!”

Tommy cleared his throat while resting his palms on the industrial island.

“That’s because it’s not… yet.” He admitted cutting a piece of the sandwich to eat it. “Been trying to decide if it’s a good addition or not.”

“You definitely have to, it’s amazing!”

There was something about her that pushed him to do this. He thought she could see something else in everything judging by the way she took photographs, to her it wasn’t just a vintage oil lamp, it was the main focus of the shooting.

“Why are you doubting?” She called, making Tommy pull out from his daydream.

“I don’t know if people will like it.”

She noticed the doubt in his eyes and his eyes flashing for a second.

“This is Michelin worth it, trust me.” She admitted taking the rest of the brisket with a fork. “It’s perfect.”

“If it fails you’re the one to blame eh?” He smiled, aching for a cigarette, but it was forbidden in the kitchen.

“I’m sure it will be a success!”

Tommy felt grateful for the encouragement, cooking had been once of his hidden passions and he realized showing it to her could only be because she was special.

“I could bet you anything it’ll get a high demand… if I could I’d have this everyday.”

He wondered if she was always trying to please and compliment people with her comments or if it was out of pity, but after seeing her interacting with the staff, he knew this was a natural and genuine thing for her.

“Well you could if you wanted, love.” He arched one of his eyebrows seductively that made her blush immediately.

Reaching the desire effect, he added a wink.

She felt both excited and scared, because of the meaning behind his words, what he was implying it wasn’t something to take slightly and the alarm started ringing inside her head.

“Guess you say that to every woman that sits in front of you.” She knew how men like him acted all the time.

Tommy was about to answer that no, as a matter of fact he had never cooked for another women. This was a first time for him and he wasn’t even completely aware of what made him do that, he just felt the urge to be close to her.

But he wasn’t able to because Arthur stormed in, interrupting the moment.

Tilting his head, he stared at the crumbs on the plate, to the girl and then to his brother. Confusion written all over his face, he wanted to ask why the hell he ordered the pub to be open later, but judging by Tommy’s eyes, he decided to not do it.

“Oh, sorry about the interruption, brotha.” he made a small reverence and pointed at the door to disappear, but it was enough to break the moment.

“Actually I’ve to go and do some editing, thank you for lunch.” Y/N stammered, giving Tommy a small look back, taking that as her opportunity to leave. A heavy ache pressing her chest.

Arthur looked at his brother from the corner of his eyes. “Wha-?”

“What the hell are you doing here? Thought you had to be out of the city.” Tommy barked, far too annoyed now. “You better keep this to yourself if you want to be on one piece for the holidays.” Tommy warned with an accusing finger before leaving the kitchen.

If someone knew him, it was Arthur. And deep down, Tommy knew all of his effort it wouldn’t go unnoticed by his brother and the huge meaning this had.

“I was just going to say that she’s a fine gurl.” Arthur whispered, hands up in surrender. “And that I think you found the one.”

***

“Tommy,” Lizzie poked her head inside his office after knocking the door, he had been starting absently at his screen, “the photographer is here.”

Tommy felt his stomach making a sharp turn at the announcement. He felt torn between wanting to see her one more time and feeling rejected that one time he decided to cook for her.

“Ask Finn to handle that matter.”

Lizzie gave him a deep frown, these past days he was very adamant to be informed once she arrived. “He’s busy with something else.”

“Then ask Arthur. Or take care of it yourself.” Turning off his laptop, Tommy took his wallet and keys to walk out of his office, taking the stairs quickly he rushed past the hall and then the bar, eyeing Y/N siting close to the door.

She went there with two objectives that day, first present her final work to the Shelby brothers and last but not least, find a moment to talk to Tommy about what happened in the kitchen the other day, she had been terrified by the intimate moment they shared over him cooking that delicious sandwich for her, she wanted to explain that she had been hurt in the past and over therapy she had been able to slowly work things around, but the constant fear was in the back of her mind.

He wasn’t going to admit out loud to anyone that the photographer had been on his mind ever since he met her. There was something about her that caught his attention, the way she smiled or the way she saw things through the lenses of her camera.

But she also hurt his fragile ego by rejecting him. So when he was close for her to listen, he pretended to get a phone call. “Yeah Mandy, I’m on my way sweetheart.”

He never noticed the long look she gave him, because if he had, he’d have noticed the way her heart broke into million pieces by listening to his words. So she decided to let him go that day.

And somehow that’s exactly how life is, it’s messy, it goes badly and you meet the right person at the wrong time.

****

Y/N nerves started growing with every minute passing at the auction. She decided to donate one of her photographs to raise funds for women in need at a local charity, but she couldn’t help but wonder if it would sell or not.

“You never told me what happened with that Shelly boy.” Flor asked casually as she started eyeing the entrees.

She wanted to get one of each, but her stomach was completely closed and the butterflies in her tummy were out of control.

“It’s Shelby… and nothing happened.” Y/N remembered the photographs she took of The Tavern a couple of months ago now.

“You can’t keep sabotaging yourself!” Flor hissed. “What happened?”

“Look, he had trouble written all over his face, maybe it was for the best.” Y/N brushed it off, or she tried to at least.

“And you let him go why exactly?” Her friend pressed, waving at someone.

“I got scared because he was too much, he was… never mind.” Her voice trailed off. “The auction is about to start, we should move.”

But Flor had a different idea, so she stopped her friend by the arm. “You actually like him! And don’t even try to lie to me.”

“It doesn’t matter how, he’s probably busy with Mindy, Randy… whatever.”

“Maybe it’s not too late… but you gotta stop doing this to yourself, you deserve to be happy.”

“I was still healing and I literally stormed out, he probably doesn’t even remember my name. He just flirted to busy himself.”

Flor shook her head in disbelief. Y/N got the chance to be happy and she decided to hide in the dark too afraid for it to be a reality.

But they were both oblivious that across the gallery, there he was, the man himself staring at Y/N with his eyes fixed on her every move. Realizing that his memory hadn’t made a mistake of remembering her soft features, or the dimples on her cheeks, neither the sparkle of her eyes. As much as he tried, it was impossible to forget about her.

“Tom, it turns out Y/N listed a photograph for the auction.” Arthur informed him in a low voice, he had just his brother to investigate as soon as he found her among the people gathered for the event. She looked more beautiful than he remembered and there it was again, the same force that had been pulling him towards her from the moment they met.

“Buy it.” He stretched his neck to find her walking around, the sequins of her black dress catching the light.

It didn’t matter how much time had passed, there hadn’t been a day or night where he didn’t end up thinking about her, she was stuck in his mind.

“But it’s-”

“Arthur,” Tommy pointed at his brother in a warning tone. “Buy the photograph, I don’t want anyone else getting it.”

“Man you should try this…” John shoved something into his mouth and as a waiter passed by with a tray of drinks, he got a glass of champagne.

“John, I need you to-”

“What the hell are you doin ‘ere?” Alfie’s voice interrupted them.

Arthur found him midway with a huge grin on his face.

“They started whining about the price it might reach, so I doubled the amount.”

“Good.”

And in that very moment he saw someone approaching Y/N’s piece to place a card that could be read as SOLD and a woman walked towards Y/N to let her know her photograph had been bought by someone anonymously. And he’d pay an absurd amount of money anytime to see her reaction again. The shock of her face, her hand flying to her mouth, the small jumps she was making… she looked at the woman next to her and asked her to pinch her arm.

“I thought you’d only send the donation over, mate.” Alfie joined them, giving the Shelby brothers a long look, one of his hands rubbing absently his beard.

“What’s the fun in that Alfie?” Tommy answered, giving Y/N one more look. “Actually I just bought a photograph.”

“You can’t do that, there’s an auction!”

Arthur showed him the cheque he just signed off, enjoying the annoyance in his face, but Alfie’s eyes were fixed somewhere else, Tommy realized that he was looking at the woman standing next to Y/N.

His smile grew even bigger in that moment.

“Tell me this is real!” Y/N squealed squeezing her friends arm.

Turning her head around, and her eyes crossed with Tommy’s, who raised his glass at her. Embarrassment flashed through her eyes, so she took a small step towards him, holding his gaze at all times.

An apology would be a first step.

“You’ve to introduce me to that bearded man.” Flor whispered behind her back, making Y/N chuckle.

As the small group reunited, Y/N felt a blush covering her face.

“Just heard your photography sold, congratulations.” Tommy announced.

“It’s a night full of surprises,” she admitted and then looked at Alfie. “Mr. Solomons, I want to thank you for the opportunity to join the auction.”

“It’s my pleasure dove, now I don’t think we’ve been introduced… Alfie Solomons.” He extended his hand at Flor, whose smile couldn’t be bigger.

And before anyone could react, the pair moved away from the group.

“Y/N and her friend should be present at the next business meeting with Alfie.” Arthur pointed out, then noticing that his brother and Y/N were staring at each other, he waved at John. “Let’s go get a drink.”

“If he makes more brisket let us know!” John shouted over his shoulder.

Tommy rolled his eyes at the comment, but a chuckle escaped his lips.

“I hope you won’t run off this time around.” He raised his eyebrows, half joking, half serious.

A veil of embarrassment and shame covered her. “I’m sorry about that…” she began to explain Tommy how after realizing how attracted she felt towards him, she didn’t knew how to handle her feelings and how much she regretted it, that’s why she came back to try to explain him that, but well, things took another turn.

“It doesn’t matter now.” Tommy assured her as they moved towards the balcony.

“So… shall we start again?” She asked with hope sparkling in her eyes, just like the stars in the background. He nodded.

“On one condition.”

“Anything.” She agreed looking from his eyes to his lips.

“Over a brisket sandwich?”

Y/N nodded, the smile reaching her eyes.

He could take her to any restaurant in the city, the best place out there, but to her seeing him cooking, it mean a lot more than words could explain. And his brisket was to die for.

Finally leaving her fears behind, she wrapped her arms around his neck and his hands sneaked around her waist, lips connecting in a kiss they both had been longing since the first time they met.

Mouths molding perfectly against each other, it felt much better than they imagined.

After a moment, they pulled apart, but remained close with a satisfied look in their eyes.

“Good because I was going to call you anyways, I need a photographer for my son’s birthday party.” Tommy explained and captured her lips once more, but now, it was the right moment to start over… and everything thanks to a Photoshoot session.

****

Thank you for reading! If you liked this, your feedback means the world to me ✨🥰xx

Photo credits to The Tavern@ig

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @gypsy-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @elk96 @heidimoreton @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @lau219

Master list

[incorrectsibunaquotes]

guys i know ppl have probs pointed this out before but the only Mark of Anubis dreams we see are Nina’s and Fabian’s (not counting the failed attempts for Amber and Eddie), and in both of those dreams, Senkhara impersonated the other’s love interest bc she knew from watching the house dynamics that they were the best options to get close enough to touch them.

I truly have no theories about what Amber and Alfie were dreaming about bc of the placement of their Marks, and I’m not sure if Senkhara even bothered with subterfuge at all with the other three Sibunas, BUT HEAR ME OUT (here comes very on-brand peddie brain rot)

Patricia’s mark is on her wrist. It’s a pretty innocuous placement, and it probably would have been pretty easy for Senkhara to appear in a puff of smoke, grab her by the wrist and that’s that. However— and maybe I’m simply reading too far into this— who has been the only person in the entire series up to this point that has gone out of their way to touch Patricia’s hand? Eddie.

In fact, only a few episodes prior, there’s an entire scene dedicated to him giving her palm and wrist a little massage because he accidentally hurt her. And tbh, while I loved this little scene of theirs, it always struck me as odd and kind of out of place. It’s not so bizarre, but it’s definitely a bit out of nowhere.

But, Tess, I hear you say, this scene is simply showing the audience that Patricia is starting to allow herself to be physically vulnerable with another person in a Nickelodeon-friendly way! And also Patricia wasn’t even involved in the search for the Mask yet! Well, you would be correct, of course. But two episodes later she is. Senkhara was lurking at the masked ball the whole night, she saw those losers flirting!!! And what better way to mark Patricia than by impersonating Eddie in her dream to lure her into a false sense of security, and MARK HER WRIST THAT HE WAS RANDOMLY FEELING UP ONLY DAYS BEFORE?!?!?!?

Perhaps I’m giving the writers too much credit, or perhaps I need to get a life, but it’s quite possible this peddie scene, while very iconic, was put there for the implications

[huntingingoodwill]

wild women don't get the blues (t.s.)

masterlist

pairing: tommy shelby x reader

request: i also wanted to see if you could possibly write up some something I’ve been thinking about since I've been rewatching the series and I’m currently on S2 when an idea suddenly struck me for a juicy angsty piece. it’s during the scene in which Tommy and Grace reunite and in which she asks him “Tommy, do you have someone?” in my mind i pictured possibly the reader x tommy x grace with inevitable infidelity, anger, hurt and some guilt? you can decide the ending and everyone’s fate.

a/n: anon i love you for giving me the opportunity to write a juicy argument secondly i worry you may not see this because i am bad at requests and you sent this two months ago i'm sorry!! but thank you for the sweet ask you sent :) i'd love it if you could drop me an ask if you do end up seeing this. either way i hope you enjoy <3 (p.s. thank you @sunsetmourners for helping me pick a title. i still hate you. ily.)

“You need better locks.” Smoke spilled from your lips as you spoke, obscuring your face in a silvery cloud. You were barely illuminated by the moonlight streaming in through the windows. 

Tommy looked down at the door to his office. The broken lock swung on its hinge pathetically.

You sat in his desk chair, eyeing him as he walked into the room. He flipped on the light. Instantly, the room was bathed in the lamps’ golden warmth. 

“Why’re you here, then?” He asked off-handedly, as if you hadn’t just shown up to his office, unannounced, in the middle of the night. 

“I was thirsty.” You said drily. “Be a darling and get me a drink, won’t you?”  

A few moments in his office, and you were already treating him like your secretary. 

He smirked, moving to pour you a glass of whiskey. 

He held the glass out before quickly moving it out of your reach. Your eyebrows furrowed, and he couldn’t help but smile at the pout that formed on your lips. "Not until you tell me why you’ve really come.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes playfully as you stood to lean against his desk. “We have business to discuss.”

Still, he withheld. “How’d you know I’d be here?” 

You chuckled as he stepped toward you, the amber liquor sloshing temptingly in the glass. “I got lucky.” You shrugged. "I have to leave tonight, so I thought there’d be no harm trying. Anyway, when are you not here? I’ve been in Birmingham long enough to tell you’re a slave to your work. Like I am. That’s why we’ll work together perfectly.” You grinned, snatching the drink out of his hand. You tilted it toward him in a toast, watching him over the rim of the glass as you took a sip.

You had sauntered into Small Heath a week ago, demanding a meeting with the Shelbys. They weren’t at all what you had imagined when Alfie recommended them as “the men who’ll help you get the job done”. You were disappointed in how idle they looked in the snug of the Garrison, smoking, drinking and reading the paper. You’d give them something to do. 

Their ears perked up when they found out who you were. Your family had a thriving business back in London. Someone less modest would’ve called it an empire.

But there was always more money to be made. 

You were working with the richest men and women in London, convincing them to invest in your family’s company, all while secretly draining their funds right under their noses. The Shelbys would help you move the money, exporting goods and making the cash seem legitimate. It was risky. But if it went to plan, you’d all be in the green.

Ever since you and Tommy had met each other, you’d piqued each other’s interests. He felt a draw to you, an unexplainable twinge triggering in his heart whenever you walked into the room.

He felt it now as he stood before you.

“I was waiting here a while, Tommy.” You mumbled, lazily dragging a finger down his arm. “You should be thankful.” You joked, smile playing at your lips. “I’m not used to being kept waiting.” 

Tommy moved even closer, cornering you between him and the table. 

“Poor thing. D’you miss me?” 

“Don’t make me laugh.” You grinned. “I’m just awfully impatient, is all.” 

He took the glass from you, draining it before putting it on the table. He took your cigarette from between your fingers, tossing it in his ashtray, before wrapping his arms around your waist, closing the distance between you two. 

You plucked the cap off his head, turning it over in your hand curiously. 

“Stop it. You’ll cut someone.” He spoke.

You smiled sweetly, holding the cap beneath his chin, razor glinting as you aimed it at his throat.

“What, don’t you trust me?” You giggled. 

You tossed the hat away, putting a hand on his shoulder. He was quick to reach up, folding his hand around yours as you ran a thumb across his cheekbone. 

“‘Course I trust you.” He mumbled as he leaned in, kissing you.

Your hand travelled to the nape of his neck, sliding up to his shock of dark hair, fingers entangling in the locks as he kissed you fervently, and you responded in kind.

Then, all too soon, you dug your manicured fingers into his hair, pulling his head back.

Your hand slid down his chest, stopping at his watch fob. You checked the time.

“I must be going now, Tommy.” 

He held you close, adamant.

“I expect to see you in London.” You ran your hands up and down his arms affectionately before reaching behind your back, grabbing them and pushing them back to his sides.

“You expect?” He raised an eyebrow as he leaned back. 

“I expect.” You spoke resolutely as you moved away from him, fixing your hair as you picked up your purse. You hoped, more than anything. You wanted to see him again. “I’ll be meeting Clive Macmillan.” You didn’t even notice how Tommy flinched at the name. “He’s a banker. He’ll be helping with the books. It’d help if you met him.”

“If you want me to meet him, he can come to Birmingham.” Headstrong as ever. 

You clicked your tongue. “Don’t be stubborn, Tommy. He won’t come all the way to your office just to see you.”

“Did you?” 

You turned to face him, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Did I what?” 

“Come all the way to my office, just to see me. You could’ve called, left a message with Lizzie… but you came here, hoping I’d show up before you had to leave.”

You felt your face heat up, praying he wouldn’t notice the tinge of red colouring your cheeks. You scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

He gave you a knowing smile.  

It was completely true.

“Don’t be cocky, Shelby. It’s not a good look on you.” You glanced back at him. “Goodnight.”

Just like that, you were gone. 

Tommy looked back down in his ashtray. Amongst the pile of his cigarette butts and dark ash laid one half-smoken cigarette, the end stained red with your lipstick. 

-

“Tommy.” 

Receiver held to his ear, Tommy sat completely still in an opulent suite in your family’s London hotel.  The only indicator that time hadn’t completely frozen was the ash that fell gently from the end of his smoldering cigarette, paused on its journey to his lips.

“Tommy? Are you there?” The tinny voice filtered through the phone. 

He cleared his throat. 

“Yes, Grace?” 

He hadn’t expected to hear from her again. He had welcomed their reunion a month prior, but he saw the awful look of guilt written on her face as she got dressed after. She was thinking of her husband, of course. Clive Macmillan had seemed so inconsequential to the both of them moments before. Tommy had thought the look in her eyes said it all. He thought she’d never want to see him again. He thought it was over. 

“I heard you’re in London. I want to see you. Tonight.” Grace said.

Instantly, he thought of you.

He had arrived earlier that afternoon.  

Even in the cavernous lobby, surrounded by crowds of tourists and the luxurious interior, you had caught his eye immediately.

Of course, he had noticed the subtle smile playing on your lips from across the room as your gaze met his, and your surreptitious nod toward a quiet corridor.

“I knew you’d come, stubborn as you are.” You had chuckled as you joined him. The both of you had leaned against the wall opposite to one another, watching each other. It was not in both your natures to admit it, and it had only been a couple of days, but you had missed each other. 

“Thanks for coming, Tommy. Your men won’t have to hold up your end of the bargain for a good while yet but…”  You were happy to see him. Sunlight flooded through the windows, falling across your face, soft in a look of genuine happiness. The rare look behind your cold exterior was a thing of beauty to him. 

“‘Course I’d come.” He said. Hesitantly, he reached out his hand to hold yours. Slowly, your hand lifted to meet his. “Let me take you out after we meet that banker of yours. I’m only here a night. We’ll make the most of it.” 

“Promise?” You laughed. 

“Promise.” He responded. 

You nodded, smiling softly. Your unassuming, sweet expression had made his lips quirk up at the corners. 

Both your hands had shot quickly back to your sides as one of your staff members came looking for you. He watched as you took on your air of professionalism. He missed your smile. 

Your wrist had brushed his as you walked away from him, and you shot him a look over your shoulder as you were being led away. 

Now, sitting in his hotel room, that look was burned into his memory. 

He watched time tick away on the clock on the wall. Closer and closer to when you and Grace were expecting him. 

He had to make a choice. 

-

The shrill doorbell rang. Tommy steeled himself as he reached for the doorknob. He swung the door open. 

Grace stood on the other side, fidgeting in a fine dress. Clive took care of her. Her eyes flashed up and down the street, nervously.

Even when looking at her, the thought of you haunted him, a feeling of overwhelming guilt surging through him. He remembered your smile. 

He turned, so he wouldn’t have to see her. It just made him wish he’d chosen differently. He busied himself with fixing her a drink, ignoring the feeling of Grace’s eyes burning into his back. 

“You had to talk to me, Grace?” He said, mind wandering to the thought of you, alone, wondering where he went. “I’ve a meeting, so we’ve not much time-“ He was lying. He was already late to the meeting with Clive, but maybe if he’d hurried, he could still make it in time to meet you. To make things right. 

“Tommy.” She interrupted him, the excuses dissipating in his throat.

He turned to look at her, and she pushed away the drink he offered, beads of condensation already forming on the cool glass. She shook her head. 

She reached for his hands, gripping them as the light from the fireplace cast orange hues across their faces. 

“I’m pregnant.” She whispered. 

Tommy’s heart quickened as she led his tremoring hand toward her stomach.

“I want the child to be with its father.”

He remained silent.

“But I need to know if you’re in this with me, Tommy. I want us to do this, together. But I won’t leave the child without a father if you say no.” 

He turned to look at the flame, crackling and dancing in the fireplace. He thought of how the light shone on your face that morning, and thinking of you made a twinge of both affection and of deep remorse surface in his heart. 

“I need to know.” Grace implored, knuckles tightening around his hands. “Do you have someone, Tommy?” 

He closed his eyes, and thought of you. 

He had to make a choice. 

Then, he kissed her. 

That night, as Grace and Tommy lay next to each other, he made a promise he wouldn’t break. He’d need a week to make the arrangements. Then, they’d be off to New York. Together. 

You drifted in and out of his dreams, that night. Sometimes he even thought it was you lying next to him. 

-

He opened the door to be met with a slap to the face.

He stared you down, more shocked by your presence than by the burn of his cheek from the impact.

“Is the lady of the house in?” Your jaw was tight as you asked the question, but your tone was so off-handed it was as if you hadn’t just shown up outside his and Grace’s New York hotel room after not having any contact with him since he left London almost two weeks ago.

He shook his head. 

“Good.” You punctuated the word with another slap, this time whacking him across the face with your purse. “Move aside. I need a drink.” 

You pushed past him, busying yourself at the bar cart, back turned to him. 

“(Y/N), if this is about the meeting-“ He began, guilt and regret shooting through him as he watched you. 

You froze, as if his voice repulsed you. 

“No, Thomas. It’s not about the meeting.” Your voice was dangerously calm, almost saccharine.

Slowly, you picked up an exquisite crystal glass, holding it to the light. There was a trace of Grace’s lipstick on the rim, neglected by the cleaning staff. “I think it was good you didn’t come.”

Casually, as if it were nothing at all, you tossed the glass over your shoulder. It shattered on impact, glass spraying across the floor. “You would have been dead weight, anyway.” 

You picked up another glass, turning it in your hands. Too much dust. “You see, where my problem lies is that you’ve fucked with my business. You’ve fucked with my family.” His stomach turned.

One more thrown over your shoulder, and the glass crashed against the floor, the shards glinting in the light. 

“But you were probably too involved in your attempts to get the clap to think about something as silly as that, weren’t you?” 

Your fingers ran over the rest of the glasses, none of them satisfactory.  With one sweep of your hand, you sent them clattering to the floor, the noise of shattering glass exploding all around the two of you. 

“Congratulations on the engagement, by the way.” You spoke, picking up a bottle of liquor by its neck. “A beautiful woman from Poughkeepsie… and oh! With a baby, already on the way! How utterly quaint!” You brought the bottle down upon the cart, the liquid splashing onto the floor as the bottle burst. The neck of the bottle still in your hand, you gestured with it, the sharp, jagged edge shimmering in the sunlight. 

“Does her husband know?” Your voice dropped, the sarcastic words dripping of venom. “Did you kill him?” 

“What?” Tommy recoiled. 

You tossed the neck of the bottle aside, crushing glass beneath your feet as you walked toward him. 

“Don’t play dumb with me. When they found him in his suite in my hotel, the coroner said it looked like suicide. But I wouldn’t be so quick to trust their word for it, knowing the types of traitorous bastards his wife associated with. Did you kill him, Thomas? Was it easy? A matter of convenience, to get him out of the way so you could keep his wife’s bed warm?” Your incessant questioning made the room suffocating with tension. 

“Oh.” You paused. “But you wouldn’t, would you? You’re too much of a coward.” You hissed. “Perhaps you got one of your little men to do it-“

“Oh, come on, (Y/N)-“ 

“Do you realise what you’ve done?" You snapped. "Not only did his death give me another mess to clean, more dirty laundry to cover up, but if the coppers come sniffing around the circumstances of Clive’s suicide and uncover the stolen funds linked to me, who's ass do you think is going to be on the line?!" Your voice crested, ripe with pure rage. "My entire family’s business could crumble, and you sacrificed it all for…for…”  

For her. Tommy thought. He felt a sickening guilt shoot through him, the shame weighing heavy on his shoulders. 

“All you had to do was listen to me.” You scoffed, shaking your head. “What do I have to do to make people fucking listen to me?” You grumbled under your breath as you marched toward the door. 

“Where you going?” He called out. 

“To fix your mess-“ 

“Leave it. I’ll fix it. I’ll make it right, for us-“ 

“Us!” You laughed incredulously. “What ‘us’? There is no us.” You spat. 

You made it to the door, swinging around to look at him once more. “Don’t bother trying to make it right, because you can’t. Don’t fight for my honour. There was a time I would’ve fought for yours, but now I’m not so sure you have any.” 

You left him alone, standing amongst a pile of glittering, shattered glass. Ashamed.

[whentommymetalfie]

I’m not sure if its the kinda thing you write but I quite enjoy mpreg fics and I had some ideas for Tommy & Alfie

When Tommy goes to Margate to tell Alfie of his plan to shoot Mosley, he also tells Alfie that he is pregnant with his child as it’s getting rather difficult to hide his growing bump

Tommy goes into labour in the middle and of the night while Alfie is still away and in London and isn’t due home for another few days so Polly delivers Tommy and Alfie’s daughter and calls Alfie to get him to come home immediately

Tommy is even more hurt by Alfie’s betrayal when he, thanks to Polly, discovers that he is pregnant

Alfie is stunned when Tommy turns up to their meeting heavily pregnant and working out the dates Alfie realises that its his baby and Tommy never told him

You are in luck because I'm right there with you, this is definitely my thing, and you've come to the right person with these mpreg thoughts! ❤️ I've even written an mpreg work and I keep meaning to add more to that series, but I've obviously got about a million things I want to write, and only so much time. But, it's in the cards for sure.

These are all such great scenarios -loving all the opportunities for angst. The betrayal one, God imagine the possibilities for heartbreak (and then reconciliation and comfort because I mean, it's me, writing it).

And I can imagine, if Tommy had come to Margate with these news, only to two seconds later tell Alfie about this assassination plan, Alfie would've straight up just not let him leave. If Tommy thinks he's waltzing off to assassinate Mosely while carrying Alfie's baby, he's got another thing coming.

There could also a bit of humor possibly, with Tommy showing up at the bakery with this kind of surprise for Alfie. Poor Alfie nearly has a heart attack. Also loving the imagery of him sitting there in stunned silence, quickly trying to count backwards to see if this could be his doing. And Tommy watching this unfold with mild amusement.

Oh and I actually have a super old draft for a story where Tommy goes into labour when Alfie is away (I vaguely remember someone rushing to get him on horseback...) so I'll take this as a sign that I need to write something along these lines. I don't know why but the idea of Alfie dropping everything and rushing to Tommy's side is just something I really enjoy

In the meantime, there are many great omega!verse stories for this ship, and when reading your ideas, I realised there's one in particular that you might really enjoy. It's a series centered around Tommy being pregnant with Alfie's child, and it's written by @itshoneywhatever. You can find it here on AO3,. It's one that I really enjoy, with so many wonderful moments, and I go back to re-read it all the time. I highly recommend checking it out!

Finally, thank you for sharing these very inspiring ideas with me ❤️ I hope to make something with them in the future!

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Closing Walls & Ticking Clocks is one of my favourite current series from you and I'd love a chapter where both sides of the family 'attempt' to have a peaceful dinner as a truce that eventually turns into the chaos one would expect when the Solomons + the Shelbys come together 🤭🙈 lots of love from Cass, proud of you always my friend.

Lovely Cass!

This is a whole bunch of things and it does include a dinner but most of the chaos will be in the next chapter! Hope you like where this is going. Love you ❤️

Rated: nothing explicit. The reader has an anxiety attack - not described in too much detail, but there are flashbacks to abuse, and she is comforted immediately. Mentions of losing a baby in the past, usual Shelby drama / peaky related themes

Previous parts: click here

You watched closely as Lizzie and Tommy navigated their relationship. He’d become much more protective of her, trying to be by her side more. 

 You’d sneakily traded bits and pieces of information about you and Noah to Polly till she was tipsy enough to give you more details about what had happened to Ruby. Once finished her eyes glazed over as she looked into the fire. You knew that she put on a sunny exterior for you and the kids, but deep down she looked an awful lot like Tommy in these moments. 

Tired. 

There were little wrinkles on her face that you’d not previously noticed and suddenly you felt the familiar pain of knowing that nothing lasts forever. Your eyes watered slightly at the thought of losing everyone one day.  

“Time is all you have in the end.” She said darkly as if reading your thoughts. “Lizzie’s tough, she’ll be fine, love.” She followed in her usual tone. 

The next few days you felt weighed down by Lizzie’s story. Unfortunately, there was nothing for you to do other than hope and pray that things would be different. Doctors were in and out frequently, and you’d walk in step with them asking questions till Tommy would tell you off. 

The only thing that took your mind off of her, was the ever-growing threat against the family. Faceless, nameless, and motivated by revenge. No one would answer your questions or concerns.

Not knowing what else to do you called Noah. Mostly because you missed him, but also because you hoped that if Alfie had heard anything Noah would pass it along to you. The sound of his deep voice was enough to make your shoulders drop and you slid down the kitchen wall, taking a stolen cigarette out of your pocket. You started off with the code immediately, assuming anyone could be listening to your calls. 

“I got a new coat ordered, it's Red. Going to match my Red shoes.” You said in a girly tone. 

Red - things are sketchy, don't say too much. 

“I liked the green one personally. Should I come around later? ” There was a faint tone of worry in his voice that made your knees weak. 

“No, dad’s very busy. Lots of things happening with the business, you know how it can get.” You brushed him off taking a long drag of your cigarette. Wishing more than anything you could rest in his arms for a bit. 

“I miss you.” He said softly and you heard an eruption of abuse calling after him from the men in the warehouse. 

“I miss you too. Tell your dad I say hi? Might need to bring some apples around to make a pie one of these days.” 

Apples - help. 

“I’m sure he’d like that. When are you available to come around?” 

“Anytime over the next few weeks should be fine. Nothing urgent is happening with me at the moment.” Things felt very urgent. But you didn't want to worry him. 

“Just missing you both. Your dad always has so much to say.” You laughed a little remembering the brief meeting you’d had with him. 

“We miss you too, love.” 

“I’ll call you tonight.” 

“Bye.” The line went dead and you hoped he understood what you were asking for. 

You took a few breaths before getting back on your feet. You quickly opened a window and aired out the space before going up to find Lizzie. You spent the day by her side trying to make her laugh. When she’d get quiet you’d tuck in next to her and read. You found a great deal of comfort in being beside her and with the way she’d press a kiss to the top of your head or run her hand down your arm you felt she must feel the same. 

That night, faceless men started following you in your sleep leaving you with the feeling that you were being watched. The phone rang sending you out of your bed and flying down the hallway. The ringing had stopped before you reached the phone at the bottom of the stairs. Moving into Tommy’s study you assumed he’d be giving Noah a hard time like he usually did. But it was silent. Your dad’s face was emotionless and cold as he looked up from his desk. He listened to whoever was on the other end of the phone. 

“That won’t be necessary.” Swiftly he ended the call while putting out the cigarette dangling from his other hand. 

“They are going to start closing in on us. No phone calls, no one in, and no one out of the house. You hear me?” His eyes were dark and for once you understood why people were so afraid of him. You froze on the spot your brain understanding what he was trying to say, but the rest of you only registered his tone. A wave of irrational panic started to shoot through you. He never talked to you that way ever. 

“Do you hear me?” His words cut into you. “Don’t go calling Noah, just fucking forget him eh? For now. For both your sakes just fucking leave this alone.”

I fucked up. He blames me. 

Memories of your late father's hand across your cheek became harder and harder to push down. Memories of the Priest at the orphanage with his hands around your neck flooded your mind.

Suddenly he got up from his seat and instead of running you decided to drop to the floor finally breaking eye contact. You tried to push him away as he picked you up and without a word he carried your shaking body upstairs. Your mind was racing in a hundred different directions accepting your fate, you squeezed your eyes shut. You heard a door open and then you were placed on a bed, but the sheets were wrong. 

“What’s wrong with her.” Lizzie hissed and you felt her hands cradle your face. 

“I may have shouted at her,” Tommy responded in an exasperated tone. He picked you up and placed you properly next to Lizzie. 

“You shout at each other all the time?” She whispered, her cool fingers brushing the worry lines from your forehead. “Thomas,” She said in a tone that would wilt flowers. 

“I’m fine.” You whisper. You felt the two of them get you under a blanket. 

“Look, look at me.” He said softly. You shook your head, afraid to see that awful look in his eyes again. He said your name and Lizzie put her arm around you. You could tell by her sharp intake of breath that whatever she was about to say would be fatal. You opened your eyes and saw the version of him you were used to. 

“Alfie and I don't have the best track record. He’s sold us out a few times, Eh? He works for the highest bidder. The last thing I want to see is you or the boy caught up in this. I don’t want either of you hurt. I know you will blame yourself for the rest of your life if something happens to him.” 

Grace. 

His words started to make sense, well, they always made sense. It was the way he said it that set you off. You nodded to show that you understood.  He kissed your forehead and you made an unsuccessful effort to not jump away. The hurt in his eyes and the way Lizzie tensed up caused you to tell the truth. 

“It’s not you. My dad- the priest - I - “ You took a deep breath. “I figured I was in for a beating. Just caught me off guard. You're fine. Thank you for caring about Noah.” 

“Care is a bit much-” 

“Thomas,” Lizzie warned. He let out a sigh, something flashed in his face and you assumed it was wonder about how he ended up here. 

“What? Look, no one is putting their hands on you, certainly not me. And if anyone does I’ll kill them myself.”  

You nodded and were grateful that those words ended the evening. You held his hand until you felt like you could doze off. Lizzie had fallen asleep again and you moved her arm off of you gently before kissing Tommy good night. 

You fell asleep the moment your head touched the pillow. 

Waking up your heart sank at the thought of not seeing or speaking to Noah for an undermined about of time. Sadness quickly turned into rage at the thought of some of the girls in your class moving in on him in your absence. With a huff of defeat, you got up and stuffed your feet into your slippers. Opening the curtain you were met with a positively gorgeous sight. The forest was coated in a heavy blanket of white snow. 

Everything was pushed from your head momentarily as you ran through the house to find your parents. Loud voices were drifting up from the stairs and suddenly you were met with the whole family stuffed into the entryway. Swearing and shouting at the kids and where people's things were, the chaos only added to your high spirits. 

“What's going on?” 

“Movin' in!” Arthur boomed pulling you into a hug. The maids floated passed you to help bring everyone's things in. You naturally moved to Tommy’s side. 

“Dad! Did you see the snow!” 

“It’s hard to miss.” 

“Can we go for a walk today?” You wanted to spend time with him just to ensure everything was good between the two of you. John came close and pressed his shoulder against Tommy’s before he could answer.

“Whole pack of cars just pulled up to the gate,” John said in a hushed voice. “M’ assuming it's for her.” He nodded towards you with a small smile. 

“Why would it be for her-” Tommy stopped suddenly. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” 

Knowing that look could only mean it was Noah, you moved passed everyone to set out onto the front steps. 

It looked like the King was coming though. A whole parade of black cars rolled up and started pouring in from the gate. Without better judgment, you kicked off your slippers and tore down the steps in nothing but your nightgown and wool jumper. 

“No! -” Tommy shouted but you saw the third black car slow down and Noah got out and started towards you. Everything was pushed from your mind as you ran through the snow-covered drive. 

___

She jumped up and he caught her in a large embrace, twirling her around, her laugh echoing. They said nothing as he picked her up and started to carry her the rest of the way back to the house. 

“So romantic isn't it?” Esme said and Tommy resisted the urge to put a hole in the wall. 

“Young love. Can’t be stopped can it?” Lizzie said appearing out of nowhere. 

“She must have mentioned what's going on. Brought the whole fucking organization by the looks of it.” Esme responded. Lizzie looked over to Tommy, his posture made her quickly grab his arm to lean against him. 

“Not sure how they’re going to get back to London in this weather,” Polly stated the obvious with a devious smile on her face.

Noah carried her all the way up the stairs placing her on the entryway carpet. 

“What are you doing here!” She said breathlessly, her face pink. 

“Bringing Apples.” He answered easily. Her face lit up as everyone watched in confusion. Whatever it was it meant a lot to her. 

Apples? - better not be some kinky shit or ill skin him alive. Tommy thought bitterly as Alfie came into view. 

“Morning,” Alfie said looking pleased with himself.  “Word on the street says the Shelbys are back under one roof.” 

“Office,” Tommy said pulling Lizzie alongside him. Arthur and John watched Alfie closely as they all descended into the office. 

__________

The office door closed and you looked back up at Noah still unbelieving that he was there. After carrying you all that way your flushed body was most certain of his close presence, but your mind was more stubborn. You thought maybe his dad would call if he heard anything. You didn't think he’d come all this way in a snowstorm. He kept you close and you were desperate to talk to him alone. A look that must have been obvious as Esme suddenly started herding you all into the Kitchens. 

“Long journey like that requires a hot cuppa tea!”

The three of you sat at the table while the kids ran wildly through the house. She poured glasses of whiskey and hot tea before starting her interrogation. 

“So all the way from London, that’s a long way for some tea.” 

He chuckled and took a  sip of the whiskey before answering. 

“It's excellent tea.” He smiled at you and your face turned hot. “I heard that things were getting a bit dangerous in these parts. Thought the least I could do is ask around and come to help out.” His stare was intense as you realized the full extent of what he meant. He brought everyone here to protect you. 

“Interesting and what did you hear exactly?” 

“The Changretta family was taking a special interest in the whereabouts of the family. They came to us, the day before some Irish lads told us that you were all moving back to watery lane. You called later on saying things were dangerous.” 

“And all the lads?” 

“Wasn’t sure what type of folks you had protecting the place. Figured more wouldn't be a problem.” 

“And your Da’ what’s in it for him?” 

“Ah, that I’m not quite sure of. I’d like to think that they did it because I asked. But he and Thomas always seem to have something going on between them.” 

Esme nodded satisfied with her answers. 

“So you brought men - “ 

“And guns.” 

“Men and guns, but how are the two of you going to get back to London.” 

“Figured we join in on the fun.” He shrugged. Esme let out a laugh. 

________________________________

“I told you this wasn't necessary,” Tommy said in a tense voice. 

“Eh, the boy wouldn't shut up. He’s miserable when he starts. Just like his mum was.” Alfie said looking around. 

“Why help us?” Arthur asked with clenched fists.  

“Well, things are a bit different these days, no?” 

“Not different to us. Kids in love or not, we still have history, and this isn't a time to be doing business.” John said responding before Arthur could get them into trouble. 

“Irish boys are out on the street saying that the Shelby clan are moving back to Watery lane. Changretta are chasing every lead they get for information about you lot. Gave me an offer to help finish you off.” 

“And?” Tommy said cooly. 

“And I told them I’d see it done. The real question is how are we going to get back at them if we are holed up in the house?” 

“The snow -” John started. 

“-Will give us time to plan, but we’ll need to be ready once the roads clear.” 

“Again why help us?” Tommy asked. 

“I have a business offer.” Tommy knew he wouldn't give more information with everyone in the room. 

“You lot out.” He waved for everyone but Lizzie and Alfie to leave. Once the door was shut he waited for him to go on. 

“Well, this gives me a couple opportunities. To spend time with your girl and also to ask about the passages you used to transport certain goods. I’ll assume you still know some people.” 

“I’ll have it done,” Tommy said after a long moment. 

“Thomas, I’m not sure I like where this is going. He’s a fucking mess without her.” Alfie said in a low tone. 

“That makes two of us,” Tommy answered sternly. 

“If I find out this is some big play to get back at me I’ll be sure you all pay a hefty price.” 

“Trust me, this is the last thing I want her involved in."

The two men stared at each other for a long while.

“Look, we love our daughter, you love your son. For their sake let’s try to keep things as normal as possible. No business when they are around. Whether things work out or not let's just try to get along like parents would?” Lizzie was starting to feel another bout of morning sickness come on and was desperate to be back upstairs. 

“Deal.” Alfie put his hand out and they shook on it. 

______________________ 

Soon enough the Sitting room was packed. You were very amused at Alfie and Noah being thrown into the mix. You sat next to him and you both kept a close eye on Tommy and Alfie leaving to speak in private with the boys every time information came in. 

“Do you want to go for a walk with me?” You asked desperate for some fresh air and space to talk freely about what he’d said to Esme. 

“Not sure that’s the best idea. Don’t want you to catch a cold.” He looked around the room giving away his actual motive. 

“Sit outside on the steps for a bit?” You bargained. Somehow you both managed to slip out unnoticed and went to sit on the steps at the back door. Lots of camps were set up with big fires and people making jokes and laughing.

“So you know about these Changretta folks?” You watched his face closely as he thought about his response. 

“Not really my place, love.” He lit a cigarette and avoided your eyes. 

“Please? No one will tell me anything.” He let out a sigh and you leaned against his side, he wrapped his arm around you. 

“They are an Italian family. Apparently, John killed off a guy for dating Lizzie a while back. Things went back and forth before they had their hands full with other things. Now Luca has come back to avenge his family by taking yours out.” 

“And you are involved because of me?” You said weakly. 

“Dad’s been trying to expand business in New York for a while now, plus he wants something from Tommy.” His eyes told you it was something else. “Even without that stuff, we’d be here. Not going to leave you alone when I know I can help.” You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips. Enjoying the smell of cigarette smoke and the warmth of his hand on your cheek. 

“Wait - John killed someone for dating Lizzie? What - wait what do you know about my family?” 

“Erm- A fair bit, I suppose.” A dark feeling made itself present in the pit of your stomach. You mentally slapped yourself for not asking these types of questions sooner.  You looked at him sprawled on the top stair smoking his cigarette. Revisiting Tommy’s words from the night before about how Alfie had sold them out. 

What if you’d just brought the enemy into the house? What if that’s why he’s with you. 

“Our families are more friends than they are enemies. I’m not interested in business, your dad worked hard to get his life cleaned up. I respect him for not wanting you to fall into all this.” 

“Does that mean you’d leave it behind?” He leaned in closer to you and you suddenly wanted more than anything to kiss him again. 

“In a heartbeat.” He kissed your forehead before helping you up. 

___________________________________

Tommy sat at the table, a task that was already challenging with his family. Alfie and Noah were an interesting addition. He would never admit it but having them here wasn't as horrible as he thought it would be. Alfie was well-behaved, and for the first time, Tommy got the feeling that perhaps the two of them were getting old. 

Most of the dinner was spent harassing the two teens. Noah took on the worst of it. 

“Your dad is a right savage. He ever tell you about the time with the Russians? Savage.” 

“Alfie,” Tommy warned. 

“You should have seen them the whole lot of them acting like animals. We stole -” 

“Alfie.” He said more sternly. 

“Fine, but what about the time with the bear in the pub - that’s a right classic.” 

“Bear in the pub?” Lizzie asked as Tommy finished the last of his drink. 

“Nother time I suppose.” He scratched his beard. “Well, what about you love, what are you planning to do after school.” 

“I erm - well I was thinking of pursuing accounting. Always jobs for that and I’m good with numbers. I haven't thought about it much.” 

“Numbers, I like that. Smart girl, people like us always need clever accountants. Very sharp.”  Alfie said cheerfully and Tommy hated how she was eating up his approval. 

“If you were to be married -” 

“Alfie” Tommy growled earning a laugh from Esme. Arthur looked positively distraught over the concept, reaching for the whisky bottle. 

“We can save that for later I suppose. Hmmm well, there was how we first met - do you remember darling?” He looked over at Tommy and it wasn't unnoticed how annoyed he was. 

“What if we don't tell stories tonight, eh?” Tommy suggested tensely. Alfie thought about it for a moment before turning to Polly. 

“Are you really a gypsy queen? Does that make you sort of famous amongst your people?” He started again and Tommy was suddenly worried that they would run out of whiskey if the snow was actually going to stick for a full week. Esme seemed to find the whole thing hilarious often indulging him with stories and jokes. Tommy was grateful for her ability to keep things civil. Eventually, Arthur was looking slightly pickled and it was well past eleven. 

He locked eyes with Polly and she asked a silent question. 

Should we keep drinking, or go to bed? 

Everyone hated the dining room, this was probably the most time they’d managed to spend in it,  but moving to the kitchen was more a family-only type thing. Looking over to Lizzie answered the question well enough. She looked beautiful but exhausted. 

“Bout time for bed eh?” Polly announced. 

“Guess so. Help me with the stables?” Arthur asked you and you nodded looking slightly surprised. Which meant something was most certainly going on. There was no reason to help with the stables. 

“Francis, can you show everyone to their rooms?” Tommy asked easily. 

“Of course.” She answered. 

Tommy watched as you gave Noah a hug, he whispered something in your ear that made you smile. Then you moved into the entryway to pull your boots on. 

“Night.” Tommy nodded at Alfie. 

“Night” He nodded back. 

After helping Lizzie up to the room he went out the stables to see what the commotion was about. He followed the dark path to the stables. 

“No way. No absolutely no. How? I just - you and Lizzie. Does Esme know?!” Your voice called out as he approached the door. 

“Well, I’m sure it's been mentioned but let's not bring up the past eh?” John responded looking slightly pale. Tommy leaned against the doorway watching his two brothers attempt to lecture you. John sitting on a bucket as Arthur paced in front of you. You saw him standing there but decided to keep quiet. 

“Anyway the point is. Lots of stuff between us and the Solomons eh.” Arthur started 

“Can’t trust em” John added 

“And trust me. I know exactly what you're thinking. Oooh he’s so handsome and he smokes cigarettes and his hair's all swoopy and he’s got nice muscles. He’s all mysterious and dangerous. Swoon, maybe I could change him.” 

“You can't,” John said nodding. 

“Absolutely can’t change him.” Arthur continued. “Now he’s here because he’s done business with Tommy. Once he’s gotten what he wants and this mess is cleaned up. He’s going to be on to the next lass.” 

“You’ll be devastated.” 

“So don't even think about sleeping with him. He’s probably fuck-” Tommy watched your face pinch up similar to the way it had before you fell to the floor the night before. 

“That’s enough Arthur.” Tommy interrupted sharply. “I think she understands.” 

You nodded hiding away the hurt in your eyes. 

“How many random people have you guys killed?” You asked. 

“I don’t know about random…” John mumbled 

“Are we including the war?” Arthur asked. Tommy thought about the past and wondered if what you’d seen in your life would make you understanding of the choices he’d made. 

“Okay so let me get this straight. Lizzie was a wh-prostitute, sleeping with Tommy then John wanted to marry her - but you ruined it - Gace - the Grace was gone, then back, then passed, and then you started sleeping with Lizzie again as her boss - and then you married her when she got pregnant - then got me when Ruby passed?” 

“More or less” Tommy shrugged, seemed a bit over the top when it's all laid out like that.

“Wait till she hears about Gretta,” Arthur said quietly. 

“And all the others in between-” John added before stopping himself. 

“Do you love her?” Your voice was steady, and he knew you well enough to know you were gearing up for a fight. 

“Yes.” He answered seriously. 

“Promise?” 

“Got you so she’d stay.” He wasn't sure if it was the right thing to say. “Ruby brought us together, but I think it was meant to be from the start.”

You nodded thinking for a moment. 

“Do you think Alfie is here to kill us in our sleep?” 

“No, I think Alfie’s here because he wants a piece of  New York and wants Changretta out of the way.” 

“Do you think Noah’s with me to ruin the family?” 

“No. Alfie wouldn't send his son to his dirty work. I’m not sure of his intentions, but I don’t think they are related to the business.”

“So you think he likes me for me?” 

“I think teenage boys are awful and cruel. For his sake, he better like you for you. Or we’ll handle it.” 

“Either way you won't leave me?” Your eyes narrowed and he could tell it was difficult for you to get the words out. 

“Never.” 

“No matter how bad I fuck up?” 

“Never.” He repeated. “That being said you can sleep in with Lizzie tonight.” 

“Was going to sleep with Pol.” 

“No.” He answered easily.

“Alright.” You said without fuss surprising him. 

“Now is there anything else you both left out?” He looked and John and Arthur.

“Well, we could be out here all night-” 

“Let’s not and say we did, eh?

They all piled back into the house and you followed Tommy up the stairs before going back to your room to change. 

_________________

After getting ready in your bathroom you noticed that your bedding had already been moved. You slowly made your way to your parent's room down the hall. Getting close to the door you heard them talking. 

“Well, how would you know what she thinks of me now?” Lizzie snapped. You decided to make your way in there to break up whatever they were arguing about. 

“Probably no different than she’s always thought of you.” He mumbled as you came into the room. 

Lizzie gave you a strange look and suddenly you thought back to how Arthur had spoken about her past. You stepped over your cot at the foot of the bed to climb up in between them. 

You placed yourself against her side and enjoyed the way she embraced you. 

“Are you frightened again?” She whispered, running her hands through your hair.

“No - well I’m not sure. I want to think Noah’s here for the right reasons.” 

“I think he is darling. Try not to stress over it.”She placed a kiss on your head and you felt better knowing what she thought. 

You considered going back to the floor but to put Tommy at ease you stayed between them dozing off. 

[whatiswhump]

Christmas 1957, Alfred Finch

A continuation of this series

Hi I’m back :) and this one’s LONG and I’m proud of it. Yay happy holidays

***

“Merry Christmas, Alfie,”

His head had just been shaved again, lice were making their way through the wards. It made his cheeks look so hollow despite the paper crown that had been clumsily placed on his head by a nurse.

Words didn’t come right away to Fie so he nodded back to Sean. He was aware today though, Sean could tell.

Turkey and mashed potatoes were unceremoniously still strewn across his tin tray. So much for a holiday meal. Sean wished he would eat it though.

“Th- that’s why I’m wearing this?” A wry smile snuck in as Fie nodded to his flimsy holiday accessory.

Sean felt an instant warmth that made his heart swell and he laughed a bit too loudly, “Yes it's what they call it holiday cheer, although I think Eddie took the square of chocolate you got with it.”

The wry twist of Fie’s mouth remained a bit longer signifying what would be a strong response these days.

Sean had read the charts this morning, Harris’s crony, Capshaw, hadn’t given up on the hydrotherapy yet. He had been scheduled in for it nearly every day this week.

He was surprised Fie was okay enough to even be in the cafeteria considering his typical response to the treatment.

“Hey how about you eat a few more bites of the Christmas feast for me, eh?”

Fie’s eyes trailed down at the sloppily served bits of meat in tepid gravy and potato. But despite his hesitation, he didn’t disobey, he lifted his fork and got to work. It twisted something in Sean to see how easily he followed requests... when everyone else in the institution ignored this and acted like he was feral, immediately going for force before bothering to request.

“Also Sophie says hello by the way,”

His patient paused mid attempt to skewer some meat with a confused expression.

“My wife, I think I’ve mentioned her, she and I got married a few months ago, yeah?” That had been during the no contact stage.

This did seem to jog his memory, he nodded but still seemed surprised. Sean spoke about him outside of work?

As if he read his mind, Sean continued, “Yeah, I tell her about you, especially your paintings. She’s an art history professor you know… Anyway, she asked me to wish you a merry Christmas.”

Alfie paused completely, clearly half here-half somewhere else, lost in thought, “...What year is it?”

“It’s 1957 'bout to be 1958, buddy.” Sean didn’t like thinking what that entailed for his friend, nearly four years in here now. Where had the time gone?

He was four years older than Delano now.

“Merry Christmas, Alfred.” 

Both young men jumped slightly at the arrival of Dr. Harris, how long had he been close by?

Alfie just stared back at him frozen, some of that old fear was returning as well.

Harris smiled, “I am glad the nurses are spreading some cheer,” and gestured to Alfie’s ridiculous hat, “And I am glad to hear that you’ve been trying harder to tolerate the hydrotherapy Alfred. That is brave of you as we all know how much it has frightened you in the past.”

Fie looked down at his plate ashamed. He remembered that. Over and over. A room full of people- him bare and being forced into water by so many hands. Harris watching…

“Dr. Harris, I hope that you’ve had a pleasant holiday?” Sean politely responded after a few beats of silence and an awkward cough.

“Thank you, Sean, yes. In fact I will be off soon, the wife and children are expecting me for Christmas dinner. Just like to stop in today every year. The holiday can set many of our patients off, I like to be assured that everything is under control.”

Sean agreed with that, many patients preemptively were given extra sedation today. It made him a bit sad but then he remembered the alternative- them suffering unnecessarily- missing family, memories, some even waiting for a visit from Santa Claus that would never come… It was cruel to them. Such a happy happy day turned cruel.

Dr. Harris gave Sean what was probably meant to be a polite smile, “Sean, would you give Alfie and I a minute? I’ll call you back over if you’re needed.”

An alarm bell went off in his head but he could only say, “Sure, Doctor,” And then glance to Alfie, who was still looking at his plate and walk to the perimeter of the room to join a few of the other orderlies.

“Alfred, please be polite and put your fork down and look at me.”

Fie dropped his fork almost robotically and wrapped his hand in the other in his lap.

“What else did I ask?”

He dragged his eyes up to the doctor standing up above him. He was wearing a red and green tie.

“You have children?” It came out before he even realized it, surprising both of them.

Harris smiled in amusement, “Yes, I generally keep my personal life separate, part of the profession I am afraid. Two boys and a girl. The eldest is sixteen.”

Harris could see the cogs turning in his patient’s head, new information about a man he knew surprisingly nothing about. He prided himself in being strictly a doctor to his patients, nothing else, no extraneous details. It was all about the patients after all.

He loved how painfully clear some of Alfie’s thoughts could be. And this was such a nice little Christmas gift dropped into his lap, especially since his initial plan was just to discuss water therapy again.

“I can tell you are surprised, what are you thinking about right now?”

“And stop picking at your hands.” He added with a touch of sterness.

Alfie’s worrying hands stilled instantly. His eyes looked bigger when they clumsily shaved his head like this. It was a shame they didn’t do a better job, he could have been a handsome young man. Even still.

“It’s just that you’re always here- I didn’t think- I didn’t know-” That he had children of his own? That he was someone's father…

It was natural that Alfred would see him as a father figure, it happened with a lot of patients, it was difficult to avoid. 

“I know you see me as a father, Alfred. I’ve helped you and taken care of you, it’s natural.”

Then Fie looked surprised again.

“This is why you still need so much more therapy, you’re a clever boy but you’re not making the most simple connections related to your psyche.”

Fie wilted a bit and after a brief moment nodded back to Harris. Sean had told him to agree when he could, he said it would help.

“Now Dr. Capshaw will restart hydrotherapy again today- only one day off. If you cooperate in our next session when I return tomorrow maybe we can consider reducing those sessions.”

Alfie looked back to him and nodded in understanding. He really would like that. He was getting better at hydrotherapy but afterwards he still cried every time. And really anything to see less of Capshaw.

“That’s a good boy. Now behave the rest of today, the nurses have enough to deal with, and you don't want to be sedated- or worse get a lump of coal, on Christmas do you?” He said with a smile and bent over and ruffled his hat partially crumpling it where it sat on his head.

“Merry Christmas Alfred, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Harris beamed in his good cheer and turned on his heels to leave the hospital for what Alfie imagined was a roasted goose with all of the trimmings and three smiling children. 

Maybe he was a good father? Maybe he played catch in the backyard and read stories alloud by the fire?

A shiver went through him as he was lost in this thought, only to jump again when he felt a hand on his back.

“Just me, bud,” Sean’s voice rumbled kindly.

Alfie deflated a little in his seat, “He said I have to have treatment today.”

Sean’s eyebrows were creased as he came into his vision, rounding the table, “On Christmas? What do they say? No rest for the wicked?”

“Is that me or them that's the Wicked?” Alfie replied dryly but lacking the smirk a joke would require.

Sean elected to ignore the dour comment and move forward, “I was watching you though, you did a good job, I saw you nodding- agreeing- just like we talked about. I know it isn’t easy.”

“You said that before- at one point… I used to fight it?”

It was Sean’s turn to smirk, “Like a tomcat, a force of nature,” He replied with a tone of distinctive pride, “You really stuck it to them.”

“Sometimes I feel like I still want to…”

Sean paused, sensing the dangerous territory, “Fie, listen, that’s not a bad thing but-”

“But then they’d erase me again… I know. So I won’t.”

He sighed, “It’s just not fair, Fie. You should be able to fight and I should help you-”

“But it isn’t fair no matter what and if you’re gone...”

Fie was frankly amazingly lucid today. It was reminding Sean of how painful it could be when he was.... as opposed to the other special kind of torture of when he was out of it- this way he was aware of the injustice, the cruelty.

“You’re right,” Sean breathed out, feeling decidedly un-cheery.

As if reading his mind in turn Alfie responded with a wry smile that didn’t match his eyes, “Merry Christmas to us then.”

Sean then smiled bigger than he should have, “I do have one thing that might tip the balances of today…”

Alfie actually looked mildly curious.

“If you’ll do me the honor of escorting me back to your quarters, there may or may not be a surprise waiting there…”

Fie tried to suppress a small smile and nodded. He almost got up but then looked apprehensively at his tray, reflexively ready to be told to eat more.

“Clean plate club as far as I’m concerned.” Sean shooed him up gently with a smile. 

Fie wobbled a bit and wasn’t fast by any stretch of the imagination but when they made it back to his cell Sean gestured inside like a prize show girl.

Fie raised his eyebrows when with a cursory look nothing was visible. 

“You think I’d let the nurses take it home for themselves? Look a little closer-”

Alfie stepped inside as he had hundreds of times before. The only thing in the white cell was an iron bed with white sheets and a gray scratchy wool blanket. 

He looked back at Sean, now really confused.

“Check the sheets” Sean smiled.

So Alfie did, tucked right within was a small bundle…

Alfie immediately sat on his bed with the green wrapped bundle on his lap and then just stopped, staring at it.

“You can open it anytime,” Sean reminded him in a teasing voice.

Fie looked up at him, almost surprised again that he was there, already so distracted by this new object.

But he nodded minutely and looked back down to the parcel.

It was wrapped with a thin red and white twine bow that he gingerly pulled loose. Before it fell away he rubbed it with his fingers, savoring the touch.

Gingerly, so gingerly he began on the paper. There was no tape so at his little tug it easily came away. First visible was a card.

“Merry Christmas! From the Cyril’s” read in cheery red script around a green snow covered tree with little yellow lights dotting it. Fie’s finger brushed slowly over the pressed inks. After a long moment, he opened up the card and something fluttered out.

Sean jumped over to retrieve it and embarrassedly spluttered as he handed it back, “Sophie wanted to give you a card but each one has our snapshot in it for family and friends out of town- it’s corny, i know...” his cheeks were red.

Fie just silently took the thick glossy cutout back and stared at it. It was Sean, that he recognized, but bizarrely out of uniform, in a knit button-up leisure shirt. And a woman beaming at the camera in his arms below him. She was so happy- beaming wasn’t enough of a word to describe it. Her hair was done stylishly in medium curls that swept off her face and her dress, even in the black and white, was obviously colorful and jubilant.

They were beautiful.

He looked at the writing in the card, “Dear Alfred, Merry Christmas from us. Good tidings and continued wishes for your improving health. With cheers and fond wishes, Soph and Sean.”

The script was decidedly ugly which unexpectedly made Fie laugh, scrawled with sharp points and careless dots and crossed t’s, somehow even that was amusing and warm.

“Oh her writing? I know!! Apparently the nuns used to use a ruler on her hands in grade school for it- she thinks she’s talented for it!” Sean laughed warmly.

Fie closed the card and smiled at Sean, “Thank you, Sean.” He couldn’t believe they would give him this, it was almost too kind.

“Well thats just the card! Look at the rest!” Sean replied giddily.

And sure enough, to his surprise, (as he had forgotten about the lumpiness of the parcel) there was more. First was a little pie, the size of a hand and absolutely delicious looking, then… a tiny notebook, again no larger than a hand with a little pencil fit into the spine. 

Fie picked up the notebook, dumbfounded. Green leather bound with tissue thin pages turned over and over in his hands.

“Mostly for drawing…. If you ever felt like it when i can’t take you to the art room but also I don’t know...” Sean rubbed the back of his neck, “For remembering things you don’t wanna forget- important things-”

Fie shifted the contents of his lap beside him to jump up and hug Sean but clumsily more fell into him than anything.

“Thank you-” He mumbled into the warm winter uniform sweater, “Thank you.”

Sean held him securely, “Merry Christmas bud, you probably deserve a helluva lot more than this.”

---

@cursedscribbles @voidwhump @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @aliceinwhumperland @whump-it @professional-idiocy @ziptiewhump @angrystudentgoopfire @jaxonjekkels @clubbem @simplygrimly @whole-and-apart-and-between @bumpthumpwhump @rosesareviolentlyread @whumpasaurus101 @hurting-fictional-people @burtlederp @thelittlegirlwithcurlyhair @crystalquartzwhump @rotfern @sentientpileofmoss

[corrupte3d-mindz]

About Me:

I’m a 15 year old who loves writing about my favorite characters that live in my head rent free. I’m currently ending my sophomore year and moving to junior year; I found out that I’ll be 17 as a senior which is kinda weird. I speak English as a first language but I have a bit of dyslexia so I tend to add a word that didn’t need to be there or I forgot a word. If you notice it and I haven’t just hit me up and I’ll fix it along with that kind gesture I’ll also ask for you to give me a prompt/idea that you may want me to write, I love hearing other’s ideas and helping them to put it to paper. I tend to be very step by step writer because I like to give a very good visual representation of what’s going down but I tend to do it badly but it’s in the process of becoming more refined and better.

Below is everything that I’ve written for you lovely people:

Warnings:

Some of these series have very sensitive topics like rape, drug abuse, gore, and death. If you do not like those topics then please stay away from them, I don’t want to deal with complaining. Half of my stuff will be dark, depraved, and depressing. Reading this and choosing to go further is all up to you. If you need to step away from one of my posts because you are struggling to make it through then drop it entirely, it will only get worse from there.

Any dark and depraved depictions of certain characters who are not like that normally will most likely happen in my blog , but for the ones that do have it, it’ll be worse. The ones that don’t normally have it I do not see them in that light. I just write them in that light.

For the depraved people like myself, you may continue on and please enjoy my work that I love to do. Thank you and have a wonderful day/night.

Codes:

𑁍 — Fluff

𖥻 — Humor

𖤐 — Angst

☹︎ — Dark

♧ — Smut

♔ — Headcanons

〇 — One-Shots

⧉ — Potential Series

꩜ — Series

Color Codes:

Red: Extreme non-con elements or just extremely dark themes

Orange: Some dark elements mentioned or conveyed.

Blue: Barely any dark themes at all; probably just the mention of alcohol, drugs, or blood. It’s the bare fucking bones.

Green: Nothing bad at all, it’s just fluff and kind things happening around here.

White: Either I haven’t written it yet, in the process or just have no clue what I want to put it under as yet.

Who I write for:

Celebrities

Cillian Murphy

Series:

Red Carpet Rush 〇,♧,𑁍

Cost of Fame ꩜,♧,𖤐,𑁍

One-shots:

My fucking baby! 〇,𑁍

Falling on deaf ears 〇,𑁍

BTS of Peaky Blinders 〇,𑁍

Headcanons:

Tom Hardy

Series:

One-shots:

Headcanons:

Venom

Eddie Brock

Serious:

One-shots:

Headcanons:

Peaky Blinders

Thomas Shelby

Series:

Wild & Free ꩜,♧,𖤐,𑁍

Bloodlines ꩜,♧,𖤐,𑁍

Nocturnal Allies ꩜,♧,𖤐,𑁍

A Deal with the Devil ꩜,☹︎,𖤐,♧,𑁍

One-Shots:

Biting Back 〇,𑁍,♧

Blood Brothers 〇,☹︎,𖤐

Needle & Thread 〇,⧉,𑁍

Uncharted Territory 〇,⧉,𑁍

Headcanons:

John Shelby

Series:

The Crimson Crown ꩜,♧,𖤐,𑁍

One-Shots:

Blood and Whiskey

Headcanons:

Finn Shelby

Series:

One-Shots:

To The Bone 〇

Headcanons:

Micheal Gray

Series:

One-Shots:

The Unseen Enemy 〇

Blood and Business 〇

The Cost of Loyalty 〇

Whiskey and Secrets 〇

Whispers in the Night 〇

Gray Days & Dark Nights 〇

Headcanons:

Luka Changretta

Series:

Sins in the Shadows ꩜,𖤐,♧,𑁍

One-shots:

Silent Threat 〇,𖤐,♧

Headcanons:

Alfie Solomons

Series:

Old Wounds ꩜,𖤐,♧,𑁍

One-Shots:

The Last Toast ⧉,𖤐,♧,𑁍

A King Among Men 〇,𖤐,♧,𑁍

A Pint and a Promise 〇,𖤐,♧,𑁍

Headcanons:

Sir Oswald Mosley

Series:

The Enemy Within ꩜,𖤐,♧,𑁍

One-Shots:

Daddy’s Girl 〇,𖤐,♧,𑁍

Pillow Princess 〇,𖤐,♧,𑁍

Echoes in the Alley ⧉,𖤐,♧,𑁍

Headcanons:

The Dark Knight Trilogy or The Batman Trilogy

Dr. Jonathan Crane

Series:

Nightmare in Gotham ꩜,☹︎,𖤐,♧,𑁍

One-Shots:

Headcanons:

A Quiet Place Part ||

Emmett Abbott

Series:

One-Shots:

Headcanons:

Watching the Detectives

Neil Lewis

Series:

One-Shots:

Headcanons:

Inception

Robert Fischer

Series:

The Siren Files ꩜,𖤐,♧,𑁍

One-Shots:

Hell on Wheels 〇,𖥻,𑁍

Actually Burning 〇,𖥻,𑁍

The Illusion of Control 〇,𖤐,♧,𑁍

Headcanons:

Red Eye

Jackson Rippner

Series:

Unmasked ꩜,☹︎,𖤐,♧,𑁍

One-Shots:

Headcanons:

This master-list will be updated once I have a couple of stories out to the public then this message will disappear.

[wa-royal-tea]

Previous | Beginning | Next

(Transcript under the cut - Click Pics for HQ Version!)

@thebrixtons​​​

Seri Palace, Britania (12:35pm)

Edward: Look at you. My beautiful girl.

Catalina: Thank you, papa. You’re early.

Edward: I’m here to see how my daughter is doing before I send her off to her...husband later.

Catalina: Husband...it feels so weird to hear that.

Edward: I know. But you’ll get used to it.

Edward: I can’t believe how much you’ve grown up, Lina. I still remember doing your hair for school and now, I’m going to walk you down the aisle to your new life.

Catalina: Papa...

Edward: Sorry, I didn’t mean to be sappy but I just can’t stop looking at you as my little girl.

Edward: I wish you could stay as my baby forever. I want to be the person to catch those nasty bugs for you when you get scared. But now, you’ll have someone else who’s going to do that for you.

Catalina: You’re going to make me cry and ruin my makeup.

Edward: *laughs* Don’t cry. Forgive your old man, yeah?

Edward: Alfie’s a good man. At first, it was hard for me to trust him after what he did but I’ve seen how much he loves you. I know he can take good care of you and make you happy.

Catalina: *voice cracking* Why do you have to say that, papa? I’m still going to be your daughter no matter what.

Edward: There there. I know.

Edward: Come on, we need to get you ready. Okay?

Catalina: Okay.

St. Frances Cathedral, Brindleton

Alfie: Mum, the uniform is okay. Don’t worry.

Sofia: I know. I just want to make sure there’s nothing wrong with it. You need to look perfect for today.

Alfie: I already do. You worry too much.

*door opens and closes*

Leon: Sorry to disturb you, your majesty. But Prince Darien is looking for you.

Sofia: Oh, alright. Watch over Alfie, okay Leon? Make sure he doesn’t run away.

Leon: *chuckles* Of course. I’ll tie his feet up if he tries to run.

Alfie: Rude of you to think I’m going to run away.

Leon: You never know.

Sofia: I’ll see you both later. And Leon, I’ve told you before, don’t call me “your majesty” when we’re in private. Call me auntie.

Leon: Yes, auntie.

Leon: You ready?

Alfie: I guess so. I’m a bit nervous though. I can feel my hands trembling right now.

Leon: You’re going to forget about it the moment you see her walk down the aisle. Trust me.

Alfie: *scoffs* Oh, look who’s the expert here. You sound like you’ve experienced this before.

Leon: *laughs* Not really. I was just reminded of your wedding rehearsal the other day.

Leon: It’s weird but at the rehearsal, I don’t know why I feel so nervous being at the end of the altar when you’re the one getting married.

Leon: And then, I saw Nora and my mind just went blank. All I can see at that time was her.

Leon: I think I’m ready to tell her how I feel. I know she feels the same. I can feel it.

Alfie: I can tell. Maybe you can talk to her at the reception dinner tonight?

Leon: Sure. Only if you and Lina are okay with it.

Alfie: I’m cool with it. I’m sure Lina is too. And if you get married to Nora in the future, you better make me your best man or else.

Leon: *laughing* We’ll see.

*crowds screaming outside*

Leon: I think it’s time. We better get down now.

Alfie: *sighs nervously* Alright. Let’s go.

[peakyswritings]

The Danger We Come From

CHAPTER IV

A Peaky Blinders x Hunger Games crossover

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Nina Ferrante

Summary: Nina follows Lucas and Nora’s second day of training. Meanwhile, she’s inevitably reminded of her own struggles.

Warnings: mentions of violence and killing, English is not my first language, no proofreading I’m writing this for fun.

A/N: Rose Coldwell is @justrainandcoffee ’s OC, and Lucy Winters is @emotionalcadaver ’s OC. Lauren, I haven’t read your series yet, but I still wanted to include Lucy in this, so I made some research on her through the asks games you answered to to get to know her a bit better. I really hope I did her justice🤍

Nina Ferrante is the OC from my Tommy Shelby x OC series Heart, Body and Soul (set in canon times)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

AU MASTERLIST

71st Hunger Games - First day of training

Forty-five seconds, Nina took a mental note. Forty-five seconds to climb the wall. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t that good either. Her breath was short, her heart was racing, and her muscles were already sore. And she had just climbed a fucking wall. She carefully climbed down until half of it, before jumping and landing on her feet in a surprisingly graceful way. With a bit more practice, she could become faster.

Suddenly, her head started to spin, her vision to blur, and she had to tightly hold onto a climbing hold for support. Trying to steady herself, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The last thing she needed was to pass out in front of the other tributes.

“Are you alright?” A hand rested on her arm, making her snap her eyes open. Oliver was looking at her with an apprehensive expression on his face.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she nodded, recollecting herself as the dizziness slowly faded.

“If you want to sit-”

“I said I’m fine,” she snapped, detaching herself from the wall. When Oliver let his hand fall by his side with a hurt look in his dark eyes, Nina immediately regretted her harshness. He was just trying to help, after all. But she felt weak, and overwhelmed, and every time she failed at something she was reminded of how small her chances to make it actually were, despite her attempts to convince herself otherwise.

She was agile, a good climber and a quick runner, but she was way too weak. Years of eating the bare minimum to keep herself alive hadn’t helped the development of muscles or resistance, and that couldn’t be changed in a few days.

Oliver, on the other hand, seemed to have decent chances. Years of working in the field with his father and brothers had made him strong, and he was rather skilled with heavy weapons. He wasn’t the scrawny kid who used to sit next to her in class anymore. A faint ‘sorry’ left her lips, but she wasn’t sure he had heard it with all the noise in the Gymnasium.

She’d practice with her archery, next, like Alfie had suggested. Nina had never took a bow in her hands before, but she knew it could be one of the most convenient weapons, in the Arena. She could use it to hunt. Or kill at a distance. A shiver ran down her back at the thought. Would she be able to kill? The simple idea made her hands shake, but she figured things would be different when she’d have no other choice.

However, just like strength training and hand to hand combat, archery turned out to be a total failure. She had a discreet aim, but the weapon was too difficult to handle. Knives were much lighter, and easier to use, but although there was a great variety from which she could choose, she decided to stick with the things she struggled with. If she hid her skills from the other tributes and gave them the idea of not being a threat, hopefully they would leave her alone. If there was one thing she had learned from watching the previous Games, it was that the Careers usually ganged up to hunt the tributes they considered more dangerous. She’d probably lose sponsors by appearing weak, but she had to give something up. And there was only so much that sponsors could do when she was in the Arena with other twenty-three tributes on her heels.

She’d refine her strategy, that night, and analyse all possible leaks. Her brain was the only thing that could get her out of the Games alive, and she couldn’t afford to be wrong.

72nd Hunger Games - Gymnasium

Nora was good at climbing. She was fairly tall, her long legs gave her an advantage. If there were trees in the Arena, she’d have good chances at seeking shelter on the higher branches, where it’d be more difficult to spot her and reach her. That would be a good strategy for her. Stay hidden, kill if you have to, but don’t hunt for tributes - it would be a suicide mission. There had been Victors who had won by staying hidden until the Games ended. Most of them were good at camouflaging - Nina had lost count of all the times a tribute had found themselves close to them without realising - and often the audience even forgot about them. Not enough thrill for their taste.

Lucas didn’t hide his skills, and worked hard hour after hour. He was adamant to show the Careers that they weren’t the only strong ones, that he could win too. Sometimes it even seemed like he wanted to scare them. But it was clear that behind his bravado there was a crippling fear, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. He was only thirteen, after all. Thirteen. Nina’s heart painfully clenched in her chest. He was barely a year older than Vittorio was when he was killed. He reminded her of him, sometimes. Just like Vittorio, Lucas had the same tendency to show a brave face and act older than his age, in a desperate attempt to look more intimidating, to be taken seriously. And just like Vittorio, he was scared to die.

It wasn’t right. The only games he was supposed to play were tag and football.

After the climbing wall, Nora started to practice with a matching test on a big screen, associating all kinds of plants and trees. Like the previous day, the girl from twelve soon joined her, and they started cooperating.

“They work well together.”

This time, it wasn’t Tommy Shelby who came to stand next to her as she watched her kid. It was Lucy Winters, district twelve’s female mentor. Although Nina knew who she was - district twelve only had two Victors, after all - she didn’t remember her Games. She sent her a glance before focusing on Nora again. “They do,” she nodded.

They were quicker together, they shared their knowledge, and their ways of approaching the training were similar. They didn’t just work well together, they worked better. Maybe in a different world they could’ve been friends.

“How does it feel to be here again, eh?” The redhead asked with a hint of irony in her voice, but no malice.

“Could be better,” she arched an eyebrow, tilting her head. “But it could also be worse.”

She could be panicking, crushed by the memories. She could be in a ball on the floor, crying her eyes out. But she was still standing. That was something.

“You get used to it,” Lucy remarked, and Nina wondered how much truth there actually was in those words and how much of it was a lie meant to comfort her a bit. Or to comfort herself. She appreciated it though. Besides Alfie and Rose, not many people talked to her, and conversation wasn’t something that came easy to her with people she didn’t know. But the woman next to her seemed friendly, and there was something about her she liked. And she was a good friend of Alfie’s - that was a point in her favour, since it wasn’t like her former mentor was the most sociable person in the world.

“I guess you do,” Nina murmured, wincing almost imperceptibly as Nora classified a venomous plant as edible. A mistake like that could cost her her life.

Lucy must’ve noticed, cause she sent her an empathetic look. “Listen,” she started, carefully gathering her words. “Whatever happens in the Arena, it’s not your fault.”

Nina clenched her jaw, trying to keep her face impassive. It was so hard when the mere thought of Lucas and Nora dying made her feel like throwing up.

“We can only do the best we can to train them and provide sponsors for them,” Lucy continued. “But the Arena and the other tributes are out of our control.”

“I know.” Nina’s voice was barely above a whisper. Of course she knew. Telling herself she could help them was nothing but a way to temporarily soothe herself, but she knew.

Lucy’s lips curled up in a sad grimace as she shook her head. “We can’t help them all.”

71st Hunger Games - Apartments

Nina didn’t realise how hungry she was until she sat at the dinner table. The delicious smell of substantial, nutritious food filled her nostrils, making her stomach growl, and she hoped no one else but her could hear it. The table was heaped with bread, vegetables, meat and elaborate dishes she had never seen in her life. That was the quantity of food her family would eat in a week, back in district nine.

“Thank you,” she murmured when the Avox who was serving them placed a plate in front of her. A strange look crossed his eyes, halfway between bewilderment and appreciation, as if he was a stranger to any display of politeness, even basic civility. Her suspicions were only confirmed when Elle and the prep team looked at her like she had said the biggest profanity known to man.

“Nina, love,” Elle moved closer to her to whisper in her ear with her sickening honey-like voice. “You’re not supposed to talk to Avoxes unless it’s to give them orders. It’s forbidden.”

“Well that’s bullshit,” she frowned, not worrying about keeping her voice low. Those poor people, who couldn’t even speak to defend themselves, were bound to be treated as if they were some inhuman beings. That was absurd, and deeply wrong.

Elle sat straight in her chair and forced a smile, feigning amusement, but it was clear Nina’s abrupt reaction had taken her aback.

After a moment of silence, Alfie cleared his throat and rubbed his hands together. “‘Right, let’s just eat, eh?” He causally said, trying to ease the tension. Rosebeth nodded at his words, but Nina got the impression that the shadow of a grin had formed on her face for a few seconds.

The dinner was an occasion to talk about what Nina and Oliver had to prepare for. In two days they’d have to perform in front of the Gamemakers and show them what they were capable of, and they had to start thinking about what skill to show off. The scores would indicate the Capitol citizens and the sponsors who to bet on. Then they’d have to prepare for the interview, the night before the Games. It was their chance to win over the Capitol and the sponsors, so it was fundamental for them to make people like them. Nina had to hold back a scoff at the last part, but she was sure her face was talking for her. She had no idea how she would do that. How could she go up on stage, smile and pretend she didn’t want to knock all of Caesar’s white teeth out? She despised him. She despised all of them. Caesar, the sponsors, the Gamemakers, the fucking citizens. Snow. Snow was at the very top of her list.

Maybe winning would be a way to spite him. He had built the system that favoured certain districts, and left the others in the mud. Even though she didn’t know him personally, she imagined it stung when it was one of the disadvantaged who won, when he had to put the crown on the heads of those who had shaken the weight of his foot off their neck and stood up. Yes, it undoubtedly stung.

And if stinging Snow was all Nina could do to get back at him at least a little bit, then sting she would.

72nd Hunger Games - The Apartments

Later that evening, Nina found herself still mulling over Lucy’s words. The more time passed, the more she realised that it wouldn’t be long before she’d have to say goodbye to Lucas and Nora. After the training period, they wouldn’t be all together in the same room ever again. One or them - or both of them - wouldn’t come back from the Arena. They would never see their family and friends again, they wouldn’t have the chance to grow up, to find a job, to find love, to have a family of their own. That possibility had been ripped from them in the cruelest possible way the day of their Reaping, and there was nothing she could do about it. Sometimes she felt like she could lose her mind.

“How did the kids do today?”

Rose’s words snapped her out of that dark spiral of thoughts. She was sitting at the table, keeping herself busy knitting something, and Nina felt unusually glad for not being alone in that moment.

“They did well. Better than yesterday.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, taking a seat. She paused for a while, her mind going back to their training. They had made considerable progress, Nora with the traps and Lucas with throwing different kinds of weapons, and it had been only two days since they had started. “They’re capable.”

“I can see that.” A faint smile graced Rose’s face as she raised her gaze from her work. “They have smart eyes,” she added, focusing on her creation again.

Nina just hoped that the Gamemakers would think the same the following day at the training scores. The kids needed sponsors, and catching the audience’s attention was a good start. The previous year, her strategy had been the complete opposite, but now the situation was very different. Lucas and Nora were not her, and they didn’t need to take the risk she took by actively choosing to give up on sponsors. If Alfie hadn’t found some for her, she would’ve died from an infection two days before the Games ended.

“What about the clothes for the interviews?” Nina changed the subject, knowing how hard Rose had been working on them. She put her whole heart into her job, and it showed from the extreme care that transpired from every little detail.

The stylist’s smile grew bigger on her face. “They’re ready. I made the last modifications yesterday. I can assure you, the kids are going to shine.”

Of course they would, Rose was the best in her field. With the help of her creations, they could make quite the impression on the Capitol citizens. Brilliant colours and original patterns were enough for those empty-headed fools to go crazy. That, together with good training scores, could ensure them the kind of support that made the difference between life and death.

Maybe there was still hope.

NEXT CHAPTER

@call-sign-shark @justrainandcoffee @evita-shelby @emotionalcadaver

[dreamlandcreations]

Love Sex Magic

mage!Alfie Solomons x mage!Reader

Summary: Your first time with the coven leader is not how you imagined...

Warnings: bad smut, FILTH, reader has a witch name, bang or die, («– dubcon), mention of ritual (orgy), original characters (sort of), oral, WLW, poly relationship, talk of jealousy, PiV, unprotected orgy sex, pregnancy, there’s a bit of heartache and fluff too 🤭 mention of reader’s hair length (not too specific), basically no dialogue

note: this is what happens when I try to add plot to porn, written in a hundred little pieces so idk know about the overall tone but I’m pretty sure this (half-dream / daydream) was inspired by the poly relationship in @darklydeliciousdesires ‘s Not One of Many series 🙃

∼ 2,5K words

You can taste them on his skin. They were his brides, as the community dubbed them, they had a right to have him first, one at a time so the other would be with someone else while one was resting.

Alfie’s gaze was holding yours captive while he was pounding into Ivy from behind. She was moaning loudly as she moved back against him, impaling herself on his cock again and again until her trembling arms gave out and she collapsed ahead, ass still high up in the air while Aflie kept going.

You couldn’t look away from him, not even when Jasmine inserted another finger into your tight heat to prepare you for your Sage. 

That was his name within the circles where your true names couldn’t be said out loud. Because names had power. Most of the coven was re-named after flowers, some after gemstones and others chose their names despite the signs they got from the readings.

One of those people was none other than Marigold, the ‘bride’ who thought Alfie’s affinity for gold would make him more affectionate with her like that. When she finally realised that she could never get all his attention she left the coven with a dramatic scene but not before she summoned a demon’s power and unleashed a forbidden spell on the man she was supposed to be in love with. 

Unfortunately, you were there with them when it happened so you were stuck under the power of the spell. Which, after a while, started to take shape. It was like a bubble of dark energy around you and if you didn’t break through, you would all die here. 

Breaking something this powerful would require a lot of energy. Sex creates energy. So here you are, constantly fucking your coven leader as the coupling of a man and woman could create more than simple orgasms on your own and more than sex between same-gendered couples.

Watching them with Alfie made you discover just how jealous you were all this time. As much as you could think clearly under the current circumstances, you were trying to figure out your feelings, trying to remember all your reasons for refusing similar activities. 

Anticipation replaced any other emotion or thought as you could tell they were close. Not a minute later Alfie came with a loud curse, Ivy’s orgasm triggering his own. He let go of her and laid back to rest a little.

Meanwhile, Jasmine was increasing the pace of her fingers, finding the spot inside you that made you cry out while she sucked on your clit and played with your breasts with her free hand. 

Her fingers moved in and out of you at a rapid pace, her tongue circling then lapping at you before she pinched your nipple and sucked on your clit for a last time, making you tumble over the edge with a surprised little scream. And she worked you through your high while Alfie was watching you fall apart before them. 

Jasmine didn’t waste a second, when the pulsing of your walls started to die down she pulled away, licked her fingers and moved on to have her way with Violet, who was resting after her round, prior to Ivy taking her place.

After catching your breath, you roll over and move towards Alfie without hesitation, crossing the small distance on your hands and knees, knowing it’s your turn with him. 

He didn’t take his eyes off of you for a second since you took off your clothes and you found it hard to distract yourself from his presence too. If the girls noticed, they didn’t show any sign of resentment. They were used to sharing.

You’ve seen their similar rituals before, Alfie even attended more crowded ones too but you never joined despite his invitations. You were afraid it would break your heart, even more, to have him but never really have him to yourself. Your love was similar to Marigold’s, possessive and perhaps selfish but you didn’t want to have just a part of his heart. Anyhow, you are here now.

Sitting beside him as he was still lying on his back, you were hesitant to move. Your insecurities and doubts made you pause for a moment but then you saw him looking up at you with a soft expression, admiring you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world. He reached out, gently pulling you down for a kiss, chasing away your worries.

“My beautiful Daisy,” he murmured against your lips. 

You wanted to take your time with him but you know that’s not possible right now so you kissed him again and again and then moved down his body to help him get ready for you faster. Leaving a trail of magic with your lips along his paint-covered chest and abdomen, pressing your body against his as you slid down over him until your mouth finds his glistening cock.

You can taste them on his skin as you lick the tip. He jerks upwards, still sensitive after the rounds he had with his harem of girls. With one of your hands holding yourself up and the other stroking his already hardening length, you lean in again and lick him from base to tip before slowly taking him into your mouth.

His hands move to caress you, fingers laced with your free hand, now resting on his abdomen. While the other hand, with more rings on it, sneaks further down to brush away your hair, tangling his fingers in your locks, so he could keep looking at you as he gently guides your movements.

Alfie doesn’t let you work on him too long, you only took him deep in your mouth a few times but he was already straining to be inside you. He waited for this for much longer than this session.

He gently pulled you off of him, drawing you up his body and rolling you over. Settling above you as he stole another kiss, just as gentle as the first one. He wanted to taste you too but felt the energy in your spell drop, so he simply didn’t have time but he was hoping this would be his last opportunity.

You pulled back first, smiling at the frown he had on for your interruption. He was holding your face, brushing his thumbs along your cheek, while he was resting most of his weight on his elbows. Alfie gasped when you reached down between your bodies and positioned him at your entrance.

He grabbed your hands, pinning them above your head with one of his own and he smiled at you. That rare, genuine but devious smile you loved so much was all yours now but you were soon too distracted to focus on it.

It was your turn to gasp as he slowly penetrated you. He was trying to be careful but you surprised him again. Circling your legs around his waist, you practically push him in you to the hilt. His half grunt of a hiss at your tightness and your choked up moan of the sudden fullness resonate through the powerfully vibrating air around you.

“Move,” you whine. Helplessly squirming beneath him as your walls flatter around his cock.

He grabs one of your legs around your ankle and moves it higher, slowly sliding his hand down to your thigh, grasping your ass and lifting your hips to a new angle before he pulled out almost all the way, relishing in your shuddering breath and tremendously enjoying the high pitched scream of pleasure as he pushed into you until he was balls deep again.

Alfie leaned down even more, body flush against yours as he cradled your head, seeking your lips in an aggressive claim. He soon had to end the kiss as you both became breathless at his demanding pace. He was fucking you with long, deep strokes, resting his forehead on yours, nose nuzzling yours with each thrust.

You felt so full and he fit perfectly in you, stretching you just right, he made your body sing for him while he was moving in and out of you. 

He lets go of your wrists to cradle your head while his other hand slowly sneaks up from holding your hips to cupping your breast. You can finally touch him as you please, your hands roam his muscular torso, nails digging in teasingly before you find yourself holding him by his nape and with an arm circling his back.

Alfie steals another kiss, that’s too short for your liking so you chase his lips after he starts to part from you. He chuckles and leans back down to deepen the kiss, slowing the pace of his thrust as he makes love to you tenderly and the lazy strokes settle into the same rythm as his tongue seeks yours.

Palming your breast and rolling your nipple has you lightly moaning for him that intesifies when he starts to roll his hips with each push and pull, putting pressure on your clit as he easily slides his lenght in you. Again and again, he puts more strenght to the snaps of his hips until your legs start to tremble and your body goes rigid with the force of your sudden orgasm.

He fucks you through it, not caring for the marks you claw on his back, letting you gasp for air as he bends down to take your neglected nipple between his lips. After a few fast and hard snaps he stops, accidently biting you, making your entire body jerk up and your still fluttering walls clench around him.

Grunting, he halts any movement, trying not to come just yet while he flicks your hardened bud with his tongue, soothing the pain he unintentionally caused.

Alfie rests his head on your chest, slowly caressing your sides while his still hard cock is still pulsing inside you. He tries to focus on his breathing, on your thrumming heart, anything to hold back because he greedily wanted more time with you.

The magic needs to be fed, he can feel it. The flow is like the waves of the ocean, pushing on him, sweaping into him and with the pull back it takes the energy you created and it needs more.

He rolls around with you, for a moment you are still plastered over him, then he encourages you to move your hips, guiding your movements by his hold on your waist.

Fucking up into you, he demands a faster pace and you moan loudly as you ride him. Rolling your hips and digging your nails into his chest as you quickly build up to your high again.

Alfie grunts as you start to clench around him. Sitting up abruptly, he rearranges your legs to hug him closer and in this new position makes it harder for both of you to move but it gives more intimacy to your connection. 

You can no longer ride him properly, he’s still in control of your movements but all he does is make you grind against him. He is determined to make you come again before he is finished.

Giving more momentum to the way he slightly lifts up, he leans back a bit, finding a new angle again that elicits a broken whimpering scream out of you and a few moments later you shatter in his arms, pulling him along the edge this time.

He claims your lips again as he pumps you full of his cum. His seed overflowing and dribbling between you but you are so lost in his embrace that you don’t pay attention to the mess. The kiss is deep and desprate, like he wants to drown you in his affection.

Panting, he pulls away and basically collapses in exhaustion. His tired eyes still on you, hand keep roaming your body while you enjoy the moment.

Something occurred to you just then. He didn’t kiss the others. It was intense and focused rounds of performance. This? This still had that intensity but it was somehow gentle too. So gentle that it made your heart ache with the yearning you had for him.

Suddenly, the dark spell broke and disappeared without a trace. No matter how lost you were in each other, you noticed this, frozen on the spot. It took you all a long moment to figure out what happened. 

The purpose of the hex, that was looming over you, was to kill. There is only one thing that can chase away death like that. Life.

Alfie looks at you with a wide-eyed expression at first, gaze softening and a small smile forming on his lips as his hand was slowly sliding down from your neck, between the valley of your breasts, where he could feel how your heart was still racing. He stopped by your stomach, his palm rested there as you both processed the meaning of all this.

His reaction mirrored yours with the rest of the shock turning into tentative joy. Alfie laughed quietly before he pulled you into a searing kiss.

The girls smiled, happy for you with only a bit of sadness mixed with their joy because they knew something you didn’t. It wasn’t just fascination on his part, Alfie loved you. And he finally had you all to himself so it was time for them to move on too.

He loved them too, each in a different way, but he was never so ridiculously in love before. Not until he met you. 

You were his, he knew it then and time only confirmed his belief but he didn’t want to push you into something you didn’t want. So he was as patient as he could manage to be while remaining persistent, assuring you whenever he could that you would be enough. Only you.

The irony of all this is that it was happening because Marigold was jealous. Of the other three girls, sure. But more and more of this bitter energy was directed at you. 

Alfie never denied his attraction to you. 

However, he reassured her that he was not indifferent towards her either. But the green-eyed monster had its claws deep in her and she inadvertently brought her worst fears to reality.

None of that matters to Alfie anymore. 

In that moment, there is only you and he would cherish this for as long as you’d let him. He would call you his with pride and would only hope that he could make you happy for the rest of your lives.

flowers meaning:  Sage - wisdom, immortality Marigold - grief, jealousy Jasmine (white) - sweet love, amiability Violet - watchfulness, modesty, faithfulness Ivy - affection, friendship, fidelity Daisy - innocence, loyal love, “I’ll never tell”

[brasideios]

10 Characters/10 Fandoms/10 Tags

Thank you for thinking of me my dears @krankittoeleven & @ainulindaelynn

Lemme see. This is long, sorry about that. I’m in a rambling mood. These are just the characters that came wandering into my noodle in no order - at least, that was intended.

1. Dorothea from Middlemarch (by George Eliot). She’s probably my fave character ever. I think in a mostly abstract way, she’s come nearest to mapping out how I perceive the feminine part of myself. She starts out so so idealistic - wanting to do something to change the world, to matter, but society has its own rules that eventually beats her down, but she’s so stoic, enduring, and self-denying, that her happy ending is earned… but then the epilogue is so melancholy so was it happy? and… I don’t know. There’s something in it all that I’ve never found a better version of.

2. My brain is on D names now lol so Daphnae from AC Odyssey. The more I think about her story, as little as we’re given of it, the more I find something tragic and fated in it, and then there’s the possibility of changing that fate, or embracing it. Something, something doomed by the narrative, unless…?

3. Demosthenes from my pdfs lol listen - ancient history RPF is a fandom (apparently) so this is valid. I have been down some serious rabbit holes with this man of late - I won’t even start on why or this will be an essay. I could also have put Thucydides in this position - but I’m on D names.

4. Daria. No seriously. I loved this show when I was a teen, and she’s honestly my spirit animal. It was my nickname because I was unfortunately very much like that. I adore her deadpan, acerbic remarks and many of them will live on in my brain forevermore. I wasn’t as witty btw - but the vibes were the same.

5. Hedwyn from the vg Pyre (woot! My brain releases me from the letter D!). I’ve played it several times now, and he’s my fave. Just a sweet guy - so sweet, you always want to free him first, but then you also very much wanna keep him with you - and sometimes I’ve been selfish enough to send everyone else instead. I also like Volfred a lot but that has everything up do with the VA 🙈

6. Alfie from Peaky Blinders. I have no excuses - the character is an unhinged maniac but Tom Hardy just brought something (a twinkling eye) to the role that makes him a very likeable, back-stabbing psychopath.

7. Caesar from HBO Rome. Ciaran Hinds has been a fave of mine since Persuasion - and I liked how he acted this part / how he was written. That’s all I’ll ever say about Caesar - character or historical figure. There are at least another half a dozen characters in this series I might’ve mentioned too. I must rewatch it one of these days.

8. Gannicus from Starz Spartacus. Dustin Clare is an old time favourite from waaaay back when I was persuaded to watch McLeod’s Daughters - really bingeable but quite trashy Aussie TV - sorry to any fans - but it really is. I so enjoyed his vibes and he brings all of that to Gannicus and it just works so well for the character. Pure cheekiness, and when he does this face 🥺 chefs kiss. Side note - I will pretty regularly say some variation of ‘my cock rages on’ about the most random stuff so - thanks to this character for that gem lol.

9. Johnny Spit from the movie Gettin Square. Yeah this is left field and I seriously doubt there’s a fandom for it - but what a character - quintessentially Australian deadbeat, (played by David Wenham). There’s a courtroom scene that kills me every time. I hope he got square, for good this time.

10. Kenny from Mad Men. I don’t even know how to explain it, I just want to protect him and he doesn’t even deserve it, and he wouldn’t have thanked me for it - maybe it was just the way everyone else was just an asshole about his writing. I want to know more about the short story about the egg. I could’ve picked almost any other character from this show though. They’re all so good/bad for their own reasons.

I made it! Haha! I have no idea who to tag - I think the only people who usually join in have already been tagged - so I’ll just add a few and call it ten. Sorry for any double ups.

No pressure at all - @nemo-of-house-frye @theinkandthesea @liminalspacecowboah @cyrus-the-younger @myriath