#amber x alfie

[non-cannon]

I had what I thought was a great idea, Sibuna as a polycule. They're all friends with each other, and Nina is dating Fabian, Amber, and Patricia, Amber is also dating Alfie, and Patricia is also dating Eddie.

Then I realized a flaw with this idea: Nina doesn't have enough hands. Fabian can hold hands with just Nina, no problem. Amber can hold hands with both Nina and Alfie. Patricia can hold hands with both Nina and Eddie. But Nina cannot hold hands with all three of them at the same time!

I don't know how to fix this!

[flamingfalcon3]

Some art for the House of Anubis AU I’m making. The gist of it is that Nina gets her body stolen by an evil entity while she was staying at school over the summer after s2 to make up for all the classes she missed. The possession was supposed to destroy her soul, but the Eye of Horus manages to save her soul and gives her a body in the form of a falcon. Unfortunately, no one saw what happened, so when they discover her, they assume that something must have happened to Nina and somehow a random bird got ahold of her locket.

[flowerbinniee]

writing help: project london

so... it's been a while, yeah?

heh, sorry about that. but i will definitely try to be more active from now on as i try to get back into a writing routine and post more content.

with the topic of writing being mentioned, i would like to ask my lovely followers and moots on here to help me with something.

i have officially started on a big girl project that i am nicknaming Project London. and what project london is categorically a dark YA romantic suspense.

what project london is to me is a love letter to my favorite series of my childhood. realistically, project london is a darker, more mature retelling of the series House of Anubis.

all of that to say that i'm having some trouble with outlining this behemoth of a project. if anyone that comes across this post--moots, followers, or otherwise--that have ideas of scenes that they think should be included in this, please feel free to share.

love you all! until next time.

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

Stormy Weather

Alfie Solomons x F!Reader; angst/comfort/fluff

Trigger Warnings: major domestic issues, trauma response, things are resolved but hard, language

A/N: Hey my loves! So this one is… pretty hard core for me? I rarely write angst but this one has been on my mind for a bit. This does get pretty aggressive but I needed to process my own experiences with DV and relationship issues. This story isn’t meant to glorify or make light of DV, but rather it’s a way for me to process my fears about my future relationships after my bad one. I hope this made sense, and maybe someone could find some catharsis in this like I did. Love you all to bits and pieces, I’m trying to get to my inbox!! As always, feel free to send me prompts or requests. Love you all 💕- Mo

It had been tense recently in the Solomons house. The new men in the bakery were just above incompetent despite Shelby assurance. American prohibition put another twist in the binds. And the recent weather had done nothing to aid Alfie’s sciatica. Through no fault of your own, and despite your best efforts, Alfie was knee deep in angry old man territory.

Though that wasn’t something that put you off. Women are not so easily turned by nasty weather, for better or worse.

You weren’t naive to the tempest of your husband. The beauty of his heart and his mind had to paid for by torrential rains once a season. His roar never came to your quiet garden, though you were acquainted with his rumbles and thunder. But you knew how to temper it. You knew what brought him through it into the clear.

You hummed to the radio in the corner, settling your finishing touches to a soothing evening with your beast of a husband. Brisket was just pulled out, with carrots and potatoes buttery and tender. You had washed the sheets and blankets, pressed them with dried lavender and eucalyptus oil. Lamps were turned low, and the fire was a soothing crackle, the entire parlor a syrup sweet orange glow. Water was hot for a bath for two, and everything was set for a soft warm evening.

As you pour out your first glass of wine, you hear the front oak door swing open, and slam shut shaking the walls. Light on your feet you flew to the front, opening your arms as a harbor. “Alfie darling, get your coat off, I have dinner and wine all set for your already! Let’s get you warm!”

His eyes don’t even meet yours as he evades your soft arms.

You feel as though your body wilts. Completely crumbling under the weight of the dejection.

But maybe he didn’t see you! Maybe he just didn’t realize!! He works hard he probably just has to attend to something quickly.

Your bare feet flex against the frigid wood stairs, creaking under the weight of your trek. Your ears perked up to the rustling of the papers and slamming of drawers and rumble of his voice. Like a dragon arranging his lair.

You crack the heavy door, requiring all of your weight. Paper and ink were thrown around, drawers yanked crooked, and you see him take long swigs of the amber liquid in the crystal decanter. “Alfie? Darling you alright? Did something happen”

He does not even toss a glance, “nothing that concerns you. Close the door one your way out.”

The rolling thunder edges closer to the home, “Aren’t you going to come down and eat? I’ve made your favorite tonight.”

“Does it look like I care about dinner? I’m preoccupied at the moment and don’t need your yowling right now.”

A bright flash illuminates the room.

“Alfie I don’t know what’s wrong but you will not speak to me like this.”

“I’ll fucking speak to you how I fucking feel like! Now get the fuck out!”

The sky explodes. Shaking the paintings and photos on the walls. The mirror above the fireplace behind you shifts precariously. Your eyes shut but the sounds wash over you.

You don’t let the anger out of your chest very often. You pride yourself on keeping an even temper and offering a gentle hand in place of the rage. Especially when being with Alfie, your honeyed lips and temperament is what makes you the queen of Camden. There’s been so few people who have seen your rage, much less deserved to receive it.

“Get the fuck out you said?”

A slight chill runs down Alfie’s spine. “Yeah. Yeah I said get the fuck out. You deaf now?”

Another flash.

“Ok.”

Alfie hardly blinks before he suddenly sees glass hurdling towards his face. He just barely ducks before it shatters against the wall behind him.

“What the fuck!” He roars and thrashes.

To his shock, you pick up the glasses on his bar cart, throwing them with all your might at his head, one by one, with deadly aim.

“Get the fuck out eh Alfie! Get the fuck out!! I’ll get the fuck out! Maybe I’ll take you fucking with me!”

You make your way to the Faberge eggs on the shelf.

“Don’t you fucking dare sweetheart! There will be hell to pay if you touch those fucking eggs!”

“Oh we are well past that Alfie. You tell me to get the fuck out? I’m taking your fucking stuff!”

Three perfectly beautiful eggs are slammed against the fire with your husband roaring and punching the wall, “Enough damnit! Get the fuck out of my office! Get to the fucking room you fucking lunatic! I’ll lock you in the bedroom if you keep this up!”

“Oh I’d like to see you try! You call yourself a man! King of Camden! King of Camden so upset he curses out his woman! So mighty yet he can’t take care of his own home! You’re a fucking CHILD! A fraud!”

You grab at a cabinet and pull it down, slamming against the ground. The glass shattered. The tin type of your wedding surely shattered in the frame. In the moment of silence after the shatter, you don’t realize Alfie coming up behind you and lifting you in the air.

You scream and kick, trying to get away and out of his grasp. But he was immovable. A wall. All you hear was his grunts as you howled and cried. He wrenches the bedroom door open, throwing you onto your marriage bed. You scramble up the bed, reaching for the knife under your pillow.

Heaving breaths, Alfie puts his hands in surrender, “Treacle treacle please. Enough ok. No need to stick me. Let’s.. let’s talk.”

“You’ve already said anything you need to. I don’t want to hear anything you have to say you fucking-“

“Darling I was wrong. Ok. I shouldn’t have swore at you. Come on. Just… put it down. Let’s… let’s talk about this ok? Truce?”

You push the hair out of your eyes, wipe the tears off your face and put the knife on the night stand, far enough from either of you.

Alfie has never raised a hand towards you ever. He’d rather put the gun on himself than touch you. But old habits die hard.

You pull your feet under your night gown. Watching Alfie pull off his coat and shoes before sitting on the bed. The ancient frame creaking under his weight.

He reaches for your hand, but retracts when he sees your dark stare toward it. With a sigh he relents and decides to begin. It’s never good to be the starter of negotiations. “Darling. I am sorry for shouting at you. It wasn’t fair to you. The business doll… it does my head in. But. It doesn’t excuse shouting at you. Can you forgive me?”

You feel the heaviness slowly slipping away from your neck. You nod meekly, allowing your fingers to drift to his, weaving around his warm fingers.

Brushing the inside of your wrist, he continues, “Now darling. While I was in the wrong, you don’t normally start throwing shit around. Very unlike you it is. You want to explain what caused that? What’s going on in that pretty head?”

You shake your head no. It’s sitting on your tongue though it’s so bitter. You can’t bring yourself to spit out the poison.

“Oh come on darling. It’s just me. Nothing can put me off. You and me forever right?”

You nod, and reveal your feelings, even if it’s a slow trickle.

“I just… got so angry at you Alfie. I’ve been so lonely these past few months. You’ve been gone. Any time you say you’ll be home you’re not. I’m without you all the time. And when you are here, you’re not really. Your mind is still gone and I don’t have my husband. Just his body. And his words hurt me so much. And I thought, I thought tonight I could finally get you. I thought if I tried hard enough you would be happy and with me. Like we were. And then when I tried to help you and be your wife, you screamed at me. And it hurt me. So I wanted to hurt you and break things to make myself feel better. But it didn’t. It made me more angry and sad and…”

Your words were reduced to tears as your husband pulled you into his lap. Your tears soaked his neck and shirt, “Oh God Alfie I’m so sorry! That was wrong and I’m sorry! Alfie was please forgive me! I’ll never disturb you again! I’ll never throw anything ever again! Oh God Alfie can you forgive me!”

A gentle kiss to your forehead settles your fears, “Now my darling you know in your heart of hearts that we are bound for eternity. Nothing is taking us apart. Not even when we fight like demons. I’m yours and you’re mine. You and me… well we just need a little medicine yeah? Just need some help right now. You and me need to do a better job talking to each other and listening yeah?”

You can barely get words out as you nod. Cheeks hot and sticky. But it doesn’t stop Alfie from kissing your cheeks so tenderly. “My dove. My sweet dove. The business has been out of control but it’s finally settling down. I came home angry because of all the messes I’ve had to clean up. But I shouldn’t have taken it out on the one person I like. The one person I love. But it’s finally settled my pet.”

His thick hands tenderly touch your chin to bring your eyes to his, which are also wet with tears, “I promise to always tell you when I’m not doing ok. And if I can’t tell you then, I’ll make sure to tell you when I need a moment. You think you can promise your old man the same?”

“Yes… I promise.” You whisper

There is a slight twinkle that flies across his eyes, “Think you can seal it with a kiss?”

You throw yourself against him, and he catches you with a grunt. You hated to fight. You’d sooner walk into the ocean than be at odds with the love of your life. When you finally come up for air, Alfie whispers against your lips, “I’m staying home for the rest of the week. I’ll tell Ollie what he needs to do in the morning.”

Without moving a millimeter you say, “No you can’t darling. It’s your life I don’t want you to have to stay home if you can’t.”

“You’re my life treacle. Forever and all eternity you’re what matters. I’ve decided. I’m staying home. And come Saturday we go up to Margate.”

“Are you sure?”

“As sure as I am that you’re the only woman for me.”

He kisses you sweetly, and you whimper as you let yourself be further embraced by him. Barely moving from your lips he whispers, “Why don’t you start a bath darling? I’ll grab tea from downstairs and join you soon.”

“I made dinner… it’s on the stove for you.”

“I’ll bring a plate for us. You just… get comfortable for me treacle. I think we need some time.”

For the rest of the night… and the rest of the week. You spent time talking and embracing, coming back together and healing what had been fraying at the edge. Though mistakes were made, and there were deep wrongs, you both wanted to fix it, to heal.

Neither of you were perfect. You never would be. But there was love there, and determination to get through the wounds that lead to these kinds of mistakes. These moments were not ok, and they stemmed from deep seated traumas that were undealt with. But you both wanted this marriage. You both wanted each other. And you both would work everyday to make it work.

With every word.

With every caress.

With every kiss.

Things would heal.

[the-fiction-witch]

Alone

Media - House of Anubis Character - Jerome Clarke Couple - Jerome X Reader Reader - Y/n Y/L/N Rating - Flirty Af (Maybe mild smut only a lil bit) Word Count - 1250

Jerome stood in his room dressed in his best grey jeans, his blue button down and his grey waistcoat. He was humming to himself 'I'm So Excited' as he made his bed, tucking in a black sheet over his mattress protector, then tossing on his grey duvet cover flattering it out nicely, and finally putting his two grey pillows against the headboard first one on top of the other but then he smiled wickedly and put the pillows one beside the other on his single bed. He then sat on his bed and happily tapped his fingertips together. 

Across the bedroom, Alife packs his suitcase ready for his trip home. "Are you really THIS excited Jerome?" 

"Alfie, I don't think you understand." he began, "Seven days. Alone. In Anubis house. With Y/n." He explained, "I am Ecstatic!" 

"If y/ns here you're not really alone, are you?"

"Shut up Alife,"

Alfie sighed and zipped up his suitcase, "Seriously though. I beg of you. Whatever you two are... going to do this week... please don't do it anywhere... non-sanitizable." 

"We'll try," 

"Have fun man," Alfie told him grabbing his suitcase,

"Ohh I will," Jerome smirked, "Have a good break Alife, See you in a week,"

"See ya," 

Alife then quickly leaves waving his roommate goodbye, Jerome excitedly sits in his bed counting the goodbyes that Trudy makes at the door to each and every Anubis house member as they leave for the week off. Alife going to his parent's vacation home in France, Nina is back off to America, Fabain going to his uncles, Mara off to see her parents, Amber going to some fancy vacation spot, Mick is off on a sports trip, Patrica is away with family too. All the pieces line so perfectly together. Until he heard the words that made him jump with excitement. 

"Mr Clarke! Miss Y/l/n!" Victor yelled from the entryway, 

Jerome bolted up and out of his room leaning on the wall of the boy's downstairs corridor with a smile, seeing Trudy by the door with her bag, Victor by the door with his suitcase and Y/n, standing on the stairs having come down from the girls rooms, in her small white sneakers, black leggings, little purple skirt, white t-shirt, her hair in a side braid and her almost trade mark at this point purple lipgloss. He bites his lip a little as he sees her the idea of everything they can do this week running through his mind. 

Jerome and Y/n had been friends as long as either really remember both getting dropped off at boarding school at the age of five and had always been around each other ever since, The two had been dating secretly for the last two years but rarely get time alone given Anubis house always being full of people, the only people who knew where Alife given he's jeromes roommate and Fabian and Nina but that's only because they are also a couple and thus the four work together to ensure no one gets caught. 

He can barely contain himself as Trudy says goodbye as she heads off on a trip. 

"Be good the both of you," She warns, 

"We will," Y/n smiled,

Trudy then leaves, leaving only Victor by the door. 

Victor glared both of them down before speaking as he paces the entry way, "Now, a refresher of the rules. No parties. No people over. No leaving the house unless it's an emergency. No Mr Clarke pizza is not an emergency."

Jerome almost chuckled but bit his tongue,

"Any non-emergency household issues such as blown bulbs and broken furniture noted down on the pad on my office door. For emergency house issues such as broken ovens or clogged showers call the Zeus house groundskeeper his number is on the fridge. My office is locked as it shall remain until I return, no attic, no basement, no fires in the fireplace, and I don't care if it's your term break lights out and be in bed at 10 o'clock precisely and I will still want it to be quiet enough to hear a pin drop as usual. And absolutely. Positively no room sharing. "

Jerome and Y/n make sneaky side eye at each other a few times during these rules almost as a silent understanding that most if not all those rules are going to be ignored, 

"Do we understand?" Victor asked,

"Got it." He nodded putting his hands in his pockets,

"It's all going to be fine, We are very capable," Y/n smiled, 

"You I trust Miss Y/L/n." Victor nodded going to the door, he then made a point to glare at Jerome which was enough of an answer of how much he trusts him, 

"We'll be just fine, Victor. Don't worry about a thing. We'll take good care of Anubis house and each other while you're gone." Jerome smiled,

"Alright, Emergency key and numbers are on the fridge. I expect good behaviour." He glared, before picking up his case and heading out the door he locked the first and then went out the second locking that one too. 

For a moment Jerome and Y/n stand in the silence letting it sink in that they are... really alone. 

"We... are... alone," Y/n said, 

"We're finally alone! No rules, no supervision, just you and me for a whole week." He gasped trying to hold back his excitement, 

She steps down the stairs for a moment checking as if she doesn't trust that everyone isn't just going to jump out on them, "All alone, after so long of boarding school houses and summer camps we..."

"No Victor, No Trudy, No Alife, no anyone. Just us." He offers his hand and she happily takes it so he spins her around in the entryway under the grand chandelier, "We're finally all alone,"

"Finally all alone," They press their foreheads together and can't hold back the smiles their arms around one another lovingly, 

"So, what do you want to do first? We can do anything we want! No limits, no rules, no restrictions."

"I have an idea," she smirked grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him into a kiss,

He kisses her back the two quickly letting their tounges explore one and another as they heavily make out, He pulls her waist a little till he pushes her up against the wall already egarly getting his hands up her skirt, 

When the outside door opens making them pull apart, Y/n moves around the corner leaning her back on the wall, Jerome leaning his elbow on the wall to his side, and both smile awkwardly as Victor comes back in. 

"Hi!" Jerome yelps, 

"Forgot my hat," Victor said grabbing his hat, even if he lusciously glared between the two of them, 

Y/n did her best not to blush and Jerome did his best not to smile too much but as Y/n glanced between them she glared at Jerome seeing his lips now purple from her lipgloss so she made eye contact with him and rubbed the corner of her mouth which Jerome picks up on any quickly wipes the lipgloss from his mouth and innocently smiles,

"Behave," Victor demanded before he left locking both doors again, 

Jerome and Y/n wait this time to hear his car actually leave, before both let out a quick breath of relief. 

"Wanna go sit and make out on the sofa?" He asked,

"And order Pizza?" She asked,

He quickly pulls her into another kiss, "I love you."

"I love you too," she smiled grabbing his hand and dragging him into the living room, 

[lovable-chica]

🎀My Official Ships🎀

💙Sweetstar x Murdoch🧡

❤️Harvey X Yip💛

🤎Yap X Derek💚

🩷Suzi X Bill💛

🧡Ben x Rosie🩷❤️

🩵Amber X Thomas💙

💚Lime X Percy💚

🖤Douglas X Chantal💚

🖤Donald X Darla🤎

💚Oliver X Harmony Bear💜

🎀RosePuff X Alfie💚

❤️Jack X Hope💜

💙Kelly X Myra✏️

🖤Barry X Wish Bear🩵

💜Abby x Duck💚

[ofsapphicambers]

Jingle Bells, Victor Smells...

SIBUNA SECRET SANTA for @mask-of-anubis.

Merry late Christmas Jenna!

I was your Secret Santa this year, and I'm so sorry this is late, but it's finally here. This was really fun to write, and it's kind of a little Christmas blurb including everything you said you were interested in reading about. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope this was worth the wait!

(Also I can't find you on AO3, so if you want this gifted to you please let me know so I can do that properly x).

For extra credit, the students at Anubis house get the opportunity to sing at the school’s Christmas Talent Show. Feat Alfie/Jerome nonsense, Amber understanding the assignment, and Nina finding out her girlfriend can actually sing? https://archiveofourown.org/works/52938340

HUGE thank you to Tess (@incorrectsibunaquotes) for hosting this year, and to both Jenna & Tess for being patient with me. I can't wait to participate again in December. It's one of the best parts of my year to keep my favorite fandom alive.

[buttercupsandboys]

Sunshine & Rainbows

Alfie Solomons x Livy (OFC) — Chapter 13

18+ NSFW - minors don’t interact 🙅🏻‍♀️

MASTERLIST | READ ON AO3

CHAPTER 13: too close to the sun

Summary: Livy and Esme down a bottle of whiskey before Alfie returns to Birmingham—along with a surprise visitor who threatens to ruin everything.

TW: language typical of Peaky Blinders, references to past sexual abuse

Word count: 6322

A/N: This update is way overdue, but it’s much longer than normal—hope that makes up for it! x

"Do you miss it?"

"Miss what?" Livy tilts her head and shoots down the last of her drink, giggling as she wipes her cherry red lips. "London?"

"No, you daft cow," snorts Esme, sipping her own drink with far less theatrics. "Travelling, the life, you know. What we had before"—she waves her hand vaguely around the room—"this."

Livy pauses at the unexpected question, surprise written on her face as she sets her glass on the table. 

With the boys at Epsom, the two women have commandeered the snug, along with a bottle of the Garrison's finest whiskey. It sits half-empty between them, the amber liquid glistening in the afternoon light. 

"Travelling?" Livy repeats, her eyes drawn to the window as if she could see the rolling hills beyond the filthy streets and the stained glass. It's been a long time since she's allowed herself to think about it. "Do you miss it?" she asks, buying herself time.

"Of course. I love John and the kids, but…." Now it's Esme's turn to stare off into the distance, her voice dropping to just above a whisper. "Sometimes it's like being a hen in a coup. You know?"

She does. 

Livy never talks about it, but the feelings are there; a restlessness she can't explain, an urge to run before the past gets too close. Walls that suffocate, seeking her out in those quiet moments when she's alone, with nothing but her thoughts for company. 

It doesn't happen often, especially since coming to stay with Alfie—the man keeps her very distracted—but it's enough that she understands. 

She just tries not to think about it. 

"Oh, Esme," Livy finally replies after a moment to collect her thoughts. "I miss it too. It was my home after … after everything that happened. And you know, it's probably the only place I've ever felt truly free."

Esme nods knowingly, leaning forward and placing her elbows on the table.

"But a lot has changed since then. And anyway, I'm not like you. It's not in my blood—"

"Oh, fuck off," groans Esme, falling back in her seat as she throws her arms in the air. "You said it yourself—you don't know, do you? 'Bout your real kin. But I can sense it. Polly too, she told me herself."

"Sense what? Oh lord, Esme. What have you tarts been talking about behind my back?"

"Your gypsy blood, Livy. Mark my words. You’re one of us."

Livy can't help it; she bursts into laughter, earning a disapproving look from Esme and a curious stare from Cyril. The loyal pup hasn't left her side all week, but he's starting to look a little worse for wear, the late-night adventures finally catching up with him.

"Right, well, I think that's a bit of wishful thinking. Or have you been on the snow again?" Livy winks at her oldest friend. "Either way, it doesn't matter. It's not my place anymore."

"Oh, no?" Esme's kohl-lined eyes light up with mischief. "And where is 'your place' these days, hmm? Camden Town?"

Livy bites her lip to hide her grin, but there's nothing she can do about the flush creeping up her neck and across her cheeks. While the whiskey certainly isn't helping, it's thoughts of him—broad shoulders, taunt muscles, and big, strong hands—that have her turning a lovely shade of pink. 

"Esme," she starts, denial on the tip of her tongue, but before she can protest, the door swings open, revealing an impeccably dressed Polly Gray. The older woman surveys the scene, taking note of their glassy eyes and the half-empty bottle before taking a seat. 

"Well, well," she mutters, lighting one of her thin cigarettes. "What trouble are the two of you up to? Besides getting piss drunk in the middle of the day."

Esme smirks, ignoring the bait. "Excellent timing, Pol. Livy's about to spill the beans on her big Jewish lover."

"Esme," groans Livy. "I'm sure Pol has more important things to—"

"Oh no," Polly interrupts. "With the boys at the races, I'm looking for a distraction. So come on then, spit it out."

"Spit it out? Surely not," snorts Esme. 

Polly has the decency to look away as a small chuckle escapes her lips, but Livy's face contorts, clearly mortified by the suggestion. 

"What kind of woman do you take me for, Esme?" Livy accuses as she reaches forward, pouring Polly a drink before topping up her own. "I swallow, of course. Like a lady."

"Christ," mutters Polly, but she can't hide her grin and raises her drink in a half salute. The other women respond in kind, and the gentle clink of glass rings out alongside peals of laughter. 

The whiskey is clearly catching up with them. 

"Right, so now we know what you're like on your knees."—Esme wiggles her brows, and Livy wishes she had something to throw at her—"Now tell us about him," she demands. 

"What do you want to know?"

Livy sips her drink, smiling as she prepares herself for questions about Alfie's gruff demeanour or, more likely, their sex life. 

"The only thing that matters," Polly answers, looking every inch the gypsy queen, perfectly poised with wisps of smoke dancing between her dark curls. "Do you love him?"

Livy chokes. 

"Pol …," she begins, but then trails off when she doesn't have a fucking clue what else to say.

"C'mon, Livy," coaxes Esme. "It's a simple yes or no—do you love the man or not?"

"Simple?" She scoffs, dragging a hand down her face. "When has anything in my life ever been simple?" 

Her head is spinning now, and Livy leans back, closing her eyes and taking a few much-needed breaths before opening them again. 

"Alright, fine," she announces suddenly, steepling her fingers on the table. "Let's say that I love him, for argument's sake. Then what? A man like Alfie will need a wife someday, a proper wife," Livy points out. 

The other women exchange looks, and it's obvious now that Esme has told Polly all about her past. But she doesn't mind; the gypsies, her mother's people, have never judged her. 

"Have you asked him what he wants?" Polly asks gently. 

Livy shakes her head before finishing her drink in one practised motion. She looks older, dark circles appearing out of nowhere, a mask slipping and revealing the full extent of her exhaustion.

"Look, Pol." 

Livy speaks slowly, but her voice is stronger now, clear and confident. 

"I'm not naive. I know there will come a time when my past is not compatible with his future. It's inevitable. Even gangsters don't marry women like me—and no, don't give me that look. Esme told me what you said when John tried to marry Lizzie. You know I'm right."

"You're not a whore," Polly insists, and Livy smiles, almost wistfully, like she wants to believe her.

"Ahh, Pol. We both know that's not how the world works. I was once, and that's all that matters now."

"It wasn't your choice—"

Livy laughs. "Right, and how many working girls do you know who 'chose' the life?"

Polly frowns, but Livy keeps going, pulling herself back from the invisible line of self-pity and regret that she refuses to cross. 

"Listen, Pol. You, of all people, should know that there's no use dwelling on the past, on what could have been, on what should have been. It will only drive you mad." Her voice softens. "All we can do is accept it, and move on the best we can."

There's a flash of understanding between them, and Livy knows Polly is thinking about the children taken from her all those years ago. In many ways, they're alike; two women bearing the weight of unspeakable tragedy, refusing to be drowned by it.

"We accept it," Polly repeats, closing her eyes to hold back the tears. But when they open a moment later, her grief has been replaced with steely determination. "We shake hands with devils, and we walk past them."

"Exactly." Livy reaches out and gives her a quick squeeze. "And this is why we're done talking about love, alright ladies? I'm happy, he's happy, and it's enough for now. It has to be, and if it's not—no, when it's not, I'll just keep walking." 

And just like that, she claps and smiles, her mask slipping easily back into place. 

"So, who else is ready for a top up?"

But before anyone can respond, the door flies open for the second time today. 

"Hello, ladies!" announces Arthur, his rich baritone ringing across the small room. He removes his peaked hat and drops into the seat next to Livy. "How are you, sweetheart?"

His arm is nearly around her shoulder when Cyril pops up, growling and baring his razor sharp teeth. Arthur quickly scoots back, and Livy giggles as the remaining Shelby brothers make their entrance. 

"For fucks sake, Esme," complains John as he picks up the near-empty whiskey bottle, frowning at the contents. 

"What? It wasn't me—blame this one," says Esme, pointing across the table. 

"Oh, is that so?" huffs Livy, but she smiles, grateful for the change in atmosphere. She points to Esme's empty glass before mouthing back, "You twat."

John howls with laughter, throwing an arm around his wife as Arthur bangs on the window, signalling for another bottle and more glasses. Polly keeps her mouth shut but smiles around her cigarette, and Finn quietly takes a seat by the door. 

"Alright, that's enough," Thomas commands as he lights his cigarette and inhales deeply. He scans the room, not missing Cyril, who is eyeing his shoes with considerable interest. He shakes his head. "You know there is a general lack of discipline in this fucking room."

"Oh Tommy, we're just having a laugh," says Polly. She pours him a whiskey from the new bottle and pushes it across the table. "Now tell us. Did you make progress with the Italians?"

"Yes."

"Thomas," warns Polly. 

He sighs. "The Italians are done, Pol. Their licenses up in smoke."

"And Sabini?"

Livy's ears perk at the name, and she turns to face Thomas, hoping for news about Alfie. 

"Dead. Solomons put a bullet in him." He waves a hand at Livy, a curtain of smoke drifting between them. "He'll be here for you soon."

Livy smiles into her glass, mildly disappointed she wasn't there to pull the trigger herself but pleased with the outcome nonetheless. 

"Will you stay, Livy?" asks Esme. "I'm sure this lot will be celebrating late into the night."

Thomas and Arthur exchange pained looks, none too thrilled by the idea of Alfie staying in Birmingham any longer than necessary, but Livy chooses to ignore them.

"Of course! I'm sure Alfie would love to stay. And if not … Well, I can be very convincing."

"Yeah, I bet you can," snickers John until Esme pokes him in the ribs. Hard. "Fucking hell, woman. That hurts."

"Yeah, well, you should watch your fucking mouth—"

Esme is interrupted as Cyril leaps from under the table, barking furiously at the window. 

"Looks like we'll find out soon enough," announces Polly as Livy jumps up, nearly knocking Thomas off his chair in her hurry to get out the door. 

"Splendid," he mumbles under his breath before taking another drag of his cigarette. 

The sun is low in the sky, parting the clouds and painting the streets with soft golden light. 

It's a rare sight in a city more accustomed to smoke and smog, but Livy pays it no mind as she comes barrelling out of the Garrison. In her rush to find Alfie, she's completely oblivious to everything but him.

Unfortunately, this includes the front steps… 

Livy squeals as she goes flying, arse over tit in the most unladylike manner. Her eyes close, ready to accept her fate as the ground rushes up to meet her—when strong arms appear out of nowhere, saving her from a tumble in the mud and horseshit.

"Easy, love," chuckles a familiar voice as the world slowly rights around her. 

Alfie, of course. 

There's no need to look because she'd recognise him anywhere, by scent and sound alone, but she does anyway because who wouldn't? Alfie is a feast for the senses, as broad and beautiful as ever, although she wishes he wouldn't wear that ridiculously large hat. It hides his handsome features, and if that's not a crime, well, it should be. But still, his crooked smile peeks from beneath his beard, and her heart thunders like Tommy's favourite racehorse. 

It takes every ounce of self-control not to throw herself into his arms—which she would do if he wasn't looking her over and shaking his head in amusement. 

"Alfie?"

"I'm guessing, right, that you've been sampling the bread, haven't you, pet?"

Livy giggles, trying to look contrite but failing miserably. In truth, she's struggling to focus; between the booze and his sinfully plump lips, it's hard to form coherent sentences.

"Whiskey, actually," she finally manages before giving in and wrapping her arms around his. "I've missed you."

"Is that so?" Alfie smirks as he leans down to whisper in her ear. "Right, well, believe it or not—'cause you know you're a fucking pain the in the arse sometimes, love—I've missed you too."

Livy tuts and attempts a half-hearted scowl, but his mouth finds hers and wipes it away. 

It's wildly inappropriate; they're directly in front of the Garrison, blocking the entrance and forcing the punters to squeeze awkwardly around them. A few throw disapproving looks at the amorous couple, but stories travel, and Alfie's reputation precedes him. No one is foolish enough to interrupt the Mad Baker, even in the heart of Blinder territory. 

No one, that is, but for one very cheeky pup. 

Cyril appears suddenly, leaping up and sticking his cold, wet snout between them. 

"For fucks sake," Alfie growls as he wrestles with his beast of a dog, cursing and grumbling under his breath. But the warmth in his eyes gives him away. "Cyril," he warns before giving in and scratching the pup in his favourite spot, just behind the ears. "Alright, mate. I missed you too. Yeah, you're a good boy, ain't ya? Now, get the fuck off me." 

Cyril reluctantly obeys, tongue lolling and tail wagging as he looks up expectantly. Alfie shakes his head, but Livy can't help herself. 

"Come on, darling," she urges, pulling gently on his arm. "Let's take Cyril for a walk, and you can tell me all about Epsom."

"A fucking what?" Alfie moans, somewhat theatrically, as he straightens to his full height. "Nope, not gonna happen, love."

"Alfie—"

"Listen, pet. I was in the war, you know that, right?"

Livy raises a perfectly arched brow, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. "Yes, Alfie. I'm well aware of your service to the Crown." 

"Good, good. Then you know I didn't spend four fucking years in the trenches just to die in the streets of Small Heath. The air is filthy, love. I'm surprised you're still breathing." He steps closer, fingers tightening possessively on her hips. "But you're young, and I'm an old man, alright? So let's go before it's too late for me. I want you home and out of this fucking dress."

He reaches for another kiss, and Livy nearly gives in—those lips of his are so fucking hard to resist—but then she catches the smug look in his eye and pulls away. 

"Uh-uh, Alfie. If you're such an old man, I don't want to risk getting you too excited. It can't be good for your heart, darling."

Alfie stares in disbelief. 

"For fucks sake," he grumbles, pushing her away and pointing a thick finger accusingly in her direction. "You're fucking evil. You know that, right? You and my fucking dog conspiring against me. That's lovely, that is, worse than the fucking Germans."

"Alife!" Livy admonishes, smacking his shoulder with a bit more force than necessary. She adores him, but he can be so bloody difficult sometimes. "Behave yourself. Your dog has been inside all day and needs to stretch his legs." 

As if on cue, Cyril nudges Alfie with his snout and starts to whine. 

"See? And besides … I think I need to walk off this whiskey…."

"Ah, there we go!" Alfie barks, a hearty rumble escaping his chest as his eyes crinkle with amusement. "The truth comes out, doesn't it, love?" 

He grins triumphantly, and Livy pauses, ready to protest. But then she remembers she has bigger fish to fry—convincing him to stay for another night—and decides to take a different approach. 

"Thank you, darling," Livy replies, smiling sweetly as he offers her his arm. 

"Yeah, alright, pet. Trot on then before I change my fucking mind." 

Livy isn't sure why they call it the Cut, hopefully for nothing nefarious; she shudders, imagining what lies beneath the dark waters. But regardless, it's surprisingly beautiful, serene almost, as the pair walk hand in hand alongside it.

Cyril races ahead, chasing something (probably rats), and the noise from the factories fades far enough into the distance that one could pretend—with a bit of imagination—that they were somewhere considerably more romantic than Birmingham. 

It's a silly thought that has her smiling, recalling the faraway places she's always dreamt of visiting. America, Australia or perhaps even Timbuktu (as Alfie delightfully suggested); lands so distant she might finally outrun the ghosts of her past. Or, if not, she could at least indulge in the girlish fantasy of boarding a ship and stepping off as someone new entirely.

But when Livy slows her steps, stopping to brush an errant lock of windswept hair from her eyes, she has the quite startling realisation that there's nowhere in the world she'd rather be.

At least not without Alfie by her side, and fuck—what exactly does that mean? 

Livy leans against him, almost instinctively, and it feels so right that she finds herself revisiting her conversation with Esme and Polly. 

She'd been painfully honest with them; loving Alfie is a gamble she's unwilling to take. The odds are not in her favour, and the stakes are too high. No one enjoys getting hurt, but her heart is more fragile than most, only beating thanks to a patchwork of carefully constructed walls she works fucking hard to maintain.

But what she didn't tell the other women, and what she struggles to admit to herself, is just how close she's come to falling. 

The truth is she wants to, badly. Alfie's already proven himself to her, showing up when she least expected it, and if Livy lives to be a hundred, she will never forget that he was there for her. 

Plus, he's beautiful and strong, and he burns so bright that sometimes she can barely breathe when she's around him. 

But that's the problem, isn't it? 

Livy is reminded of the story of Icarus, a man who built wings out of wax and learned to fly. It was miraculous; he soared in the clouds, just like a bird, blissfully happy … until one day, he flew too close to the sun. 

Then his wings melted, he plunged to his death, and Livy can't help but think there's a lesson to be learned here. 

Alfie sets her soul ablaze, but if she isn't careful—if she gets too close—she might just find herself paying a price she can't afford.  

"You alright, pet?"

His voice shakes her from her thoughts, and when she looks up, finding his eyes dark with concern, she wonders how long they've been standing there. Livy moves quickly to reassure him, stretching on her toes and pressing a soft kiss against his rough cheek. 

"Absolutely, darling. I just stopped to … enjoy the view."

"Right…." 

Alfie rubs his beard and narrows his eyes, clearly unimpressed, but Livy pays him no mind as she raises her chin in stubborn defiance. 

She's in no mood to share her thoughts—perhaps ever, but definitely not today. On the walk over, Alfie told her about Epsom, confirming Thomas's report, and now that the Italians are finished, so are the lingering threats that have haunted them for weeks. It's a cause for celebration, and she plans to enjoy their evening, not ruin it with her silly nonsense. 

Fortunately, he seems to agree because he doesn't press any further. 

"The view, eh?" Alfie repeats gruffly. 

She nods, subtly biting the inside of her cheek, at first to hide her grin, but then her growing need as he cups her face in his hands, tipping it gently from side to side. 

"Fucking beautiful," he whispers, and her heart aches in her chest—but Livy casts it away because if she can't have love, then she'll happily take this. 

It's been too long, each going without the comfort only the other can provide. But now Alife's here; his breath warm on her skin, his voice low in her ears, and just look at his eyes, dark with promise. She has everything she needs, Livy tells herself as she melts against him, tongue darting out and licking her lips in a not-so-subtle invitation. 

Alfie's gaze follows every movement, and the air practically crackles between them, electric like a summer storm, until he gives in, pressing his mouth, hot and demanding, fully against hers. 

It's clumsy, almost frantic, but she doesn't care, her pulse fluttering under his fingertips as he grips her tight, tilting her mouth for better access. Their tongues collide, and he walks her back against a stack of crates, where he lifts her hips without breaking the kiss. Livy gasps softly, gripping his shoulders and kneading the thick muscles in approval as he settles heavily between her thighs. 

It's too much, but at the same time, nowhere near enough. A constant contradiction, a constant state of want—and that's just life with Alfie, isn't it? 

Her breath hitches as she arches into his touch, intensely aware of his fingers as they trace her spine, pulling her closer. Desire pools under her skin, and she's almost lightheaded, desperate to feel her fingers tangled in his hair and her nails scratching against his scalp …

And she would, she realises, if it wasn't for that stupid hat. 

An idea pops into her head, and Livy knows she probably shouldn't—but she's not exactly thinking right now, so she does it anyway. 

"Whoops."

Her nimble fingers brush his hat from his head, and she truly has the most innocent intentions, expecting it to land securely by their feet, where it could easily be retrieved later. (Once she's done with him, of course.) But then a sudden breeze comes out of nowhere, scooping up the bloody thing and blowing it directly into the Cut. 

Livy gasps, her hands flying to her mouth in disbelief as it bobs in the current before floating away. 

Alfie senses its disappearance but keeps his face buried in her shoulder, refusing to look.  

"Love, did you just knock my hat into the fucking canal?" he asks in a muffled voice. 

Oh, shit.

"Alfie, I'm SO sorry," Livy whispers, but the shake of her shoulders, which she simply cannot control, betrays her amusement.  

He raises his head and frowns, but this only makes her laugh even harder. 

"I'm sorry," Livy repeats, gasping for air as she tries to collect herself. "But darling, you do look so much better without it."

Alfie drags a hand down his face. "It was my father's hat," he deadpans, and Livy stops laughing. 

"Oh fuck, Alfie. Now I really am sorry—"

She moves as if to shimmy off the crate, but his fingers tighten on her hips, pinning her in place. He shakes his head before dropping a soft kiss on her forehead. 

"Fucking hell, love. Don't let anyone tell you I'm not a benevolent man."

"Alfie—" 

"The things I let you get away with," he continues, almost to himself, before breaking into a grin. 

Livy shoots him a hesitant smile in return. 

"Alfie, I promise. I'm—"

"Going to pay for that?" he interrupts before returning his lips to the curve of her neck. "Oh, trust me, love." Alfie punctuates his words with hot, wet kisses. "You are going to pay. For days. For weeks. For fucking years."

Her spine tingles at the thought. Years. 

"Anything you want," Livy whispers, but then yelps when he bites her earlobe, knowing damn well just how ticklish she finds that particular spot. 

He grins wolfishly. "Anything?" 

Cheeky bastard. 

"We'll see," Livy answers, eyes twinkling as she pulls him close for a searing kiss, and soon the hat—and her punishment—are all but forgotten. 

They pick up where they left off, although it's slower and sweeter than before. For whatever reason, the urgency in their touch has disappeared, and it's almost disconcerting how Alfie takes his time, cupping her face and worshipping every inch of her. He lavishes soft kisses along the column of her throat, traces the edge of her collarbone with his tongue, and gently strokes the ridge of her spine with his strong ringed hands. 

Livy feels almost painfully exposed, which is odd because, for once, all her clothes are still firmly in place. 

"Alfie," she whispers, suddenly overwhelmed by his tenderness. 

He straightens, brushing his thumbs softly across her cheekbones, and Livy wonders if this is how it feels to shatter into pieces. 

"Livy, I need you to listen to me, alright, love?" 

She nods because her heart is in her throat, and she's not capable of anything else. 

"Good, good," Alfie repeats soothingly like he's calming a wild animal. "That's my good girl. Now, listen." He takes a deep breath. "When we get back to Camden Town, things are going to change. I mean it, yeah?"

Livy goes still, confused about where this is heading and not sure if she wants to find out. 

"Alfie—"

"No, shush for once. I'm speaking; just let me finish, alright? I've waited too fucking long already." He tilts her face and stares directly into her golden eyes. "Livy, I need you to know that I—"

"Good evening, Alfie."  

Livy startles, eyes wide and heart pounding at the sudden interruption. 

"It was until you showed up, Thomas. Now fuck off," barks Alfie, not bothering to turn around. 

"We need to talk." 

"No, we don't. Leave before I shoot you in the face."

"That will have to wait." Thomas exhales, his sharp features disappearing behind a curtain of smoke. "Bernard and his boys are making a move."

Alfie curses, muttering something incomprehensible as he slams his fist into the crate just inches from her side. But Livy barely notices because she's too busy trying to process what she heard. 

Just minutes ago, Alfie was about to confess something to her, and that should be the focus of her attention, but it's not because her veins are full of ice, and she thinks she might vomit. 

Bernard and his boys.  

She breathes deep and wills herself not to panic. Surely, there are hundreds, if not thousands, of "Bernards" in this country—

"He's on his way from Liverpool," Thomas explains like he's talking about the weather and not driving a knife into her back. "He knows about Sabini and would like to renegotiate." 

Alfie turns, saying something in response, but all Livy can hear is Liverpool, and now she knows two things with absolute fucking certainty. 

First—Alfie, her Alfie, is doing business with Bernard from Liverpool, which can only mean he's working with the High Rip Gang, which can only mean he's fucking partners with the same men who trafficked, abused and sold her like cattle. 

Her hand flies to her mouth as she chokes down the vomit that is no longer theoretical and instead very fucking real, coating her tongue with the bitter tang of betrayal—and what's worse, heartbreak. 

Yes, heartbreak, because her second life-altering realisation is that despite all the time she's wasted bullshitting herself, she is, in fact, very much in love with Alfie Solomons, and Livy knows this because if she wasn't, she wouldn't be drowning in such unbearable pain. 

How long has he been working with Bernard? 

What kind of business are they in together? 

And does Alfie KNOW who the fuck he is? 

Her mind is thick like the mud at the bottom of the canal, where hopes and dreams go to rot—where her hopes and dreams have gone to rot—and all she can do is drift in the current like his fucking hat. 

Everything is a blur. 

She's in love with Alfie, and he's working with the High Rip Gang. 

Everything is a blur. 

His hand is around her waist, and now they're in a car on their way back to Watery Lane. Her mind is racing, and the confusion must be written all over her face; Livy's an excellent actress, but no one is this good. Yet somehow, Alfie is completely oblivious to her distress? 

He's talking with Thomas, and the two pay her no mind, which she doesn't understand.

The only person who seems concerned at all is Cyril, who is curled with his head on her lap, and he keeps looking at her with big brown eyes, making soft whining sounds that, again, no one else seems to hear. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

What does that say about Alfie? 

Because if there's one thing she knows for sure, it's how attuned he is to her moods. Usually, it drives her up a fucking wall; there's no escaping him; he's so perceptive, making it impossible to hide anything. 

But here she is, caught up in a violent storm of emotions—she's never felt so utterly tumultuous—and he doesn't even notice? 

No. That doesn't make any sense. 

The only possible explanation is that he knows but simply does not care. 

And now she's not only heartbroken; she's also terrified because if Alfie knows about Bernard, then what else is he keeping from her? 

Could he be taking her to him? 

Panic washes over her. She needs to get out of this fucking car and fast. Because she can't go, she won't go, and she'll do anything before she lets that filthy fucking man touch her again. 

Instinctively, her hand finds the blade tucked securely between her breasts, and she wants to scream because it's so small—but it was more than enough last time, and she lets that thought soothe her as they pull up to the house on Watery Lane. 

"Esme," she blurts out suddenly, and Livy realises it's the first word to come out of her mouth since Thomas turned her world upside down. 

The men shift to face her, their eyes unreadable as the setting sun casts dark shadows in the small, confined space. 

"Probably putting the kids to bed," offers Thomas, gesturing towards a nearly identical house a few doors from the betting shop. 

Alfie nods, looking distracted. "Why don't you go and say hello—alright, pet? I'll come and find you when we're done here."

Livy stares back, keeping her face blank until she realises they're waiting for her to respond; to do something, say something.  

"Yes, of course, darling," she replies, her voice tinny and false in her ears as she pulls herself together, plastering her brightest smile, one usually reserved for dancing on stage. 

And Livy continues to grin, like a marionette, as she accepts Alfie's help getting out of the car. Cyril follows at her heels, so close she nearly trips. 

"Fucking mutt," he growls, pushing him away, then frowning in surprise when his dog growls back, baring his teeth. For the first time, Alfie seems aware that something isn't right, but it's too little too late. 

Livy briefly wonders if she should confront him, but in the same way that a drowning man thinks of nothing but breathing, she thinks of nothing but getting away from this cutting pain. 

So she leans up and gives him a hollow kiss before running off to find Esme. 

"Livy, what the fuck is wrong?"

Esme tries to console her friend, but it's hard when she can't understand a single word. She finally makes out, "he's coming," but it doesn't explain why Alfie's appearance would suddenly have her so upset. 

“No, Esme. Not Alfie. Him.”

Livy finally manages to calm down enough to explain the situation with the High Rip Gang to Esme—and then Polly, who appears in the doorway after putting John's kids down for the night. 

"I need to leave," she concludes, nails drumming against the small wooden table as her eyes dart nervously around the room. "I can't stay here."

"No," advises Polly, wiping her hands on her apron as she takes a seat across from Livy. "What you need is to talk to him."

"Are you mad?" hisses Esme, eyes wide as she shakes her head.

"What? She could be getting herself worked up over nothing." Polly lights a cigarette, inhaling deeply. "Isn't it better to find out?"

"Absolutely not, Pol! We don't know what they have planned. We can't send her back there!"

"Thomas wouldn't—"

"Thomas wouldn't what?" Esme stalks around the table, stopping in front of Polly, gripping the back of a chair in her hands. "What wouldn't Thomas do to get what he wants, eh?"

The two women lock eyes, each daring the other to back down until Polly suddenly breaks. 

"Fuck, you're right." She pinches the bridge of her nose with her eyes closed. "That fucking man and his fucking ambition," Polly shouts, slamming her palm against the table in frustration. "I can't put anything past him."

"What about Solomons?" Esme asks softly. 

"I don't know," says Livy, running a hand through her hair, the scarlet strands wild in the low light. "I thought I could trust him. I was so fucking sure—but now I'm not, and this is not the time or place to find out. If Bernard comes for me, and Tommy's in on it, we're surrounded by Blinders." 

Cyril whines, breaking the silence as he places his head on her lap, and Livy strokes him absently. 

"Where are the Lees camped, Esme?" she asks suddenly. 

Esme and Polly exchange concerned looks. 

"The Black Patch," answers Polly. "But it's no good running to them. Thomas has an alliance with the Lees now."

Esme rubs her arms, frowning, but Livy shakes her head. 

"No, Pol. It could work." She taps the table, gears turning frantically in her head. "If I get to the Lees, Johnny will help me find Aberama—"

"Aberama Gold? Are you insane?" Polly practically snarls as she stubs out her cigarette. "The Golds are savage, love." 

"Pol—"

"Besides, it won't work. Johnny might be your friend, but he's loyal to Tommy. He'll report back." 

"No, listen," Livy insists. "Aberama was a good friend of my father's. He'll take me in. They made a blood pact before the war."

She stands and starts gathering her things.  

"Esme, can I borrow your coat?" Livy shouts out. 

"Yeah, take it, love." 

"Don't worry about Johnny," Livy continues. "I know what he's like. He'll come running back to Thomas, but it won't matter as long as I make it to Aberama first. No one finds Aberama unless he wants to be found."

Polly looks her over, less than pleased with the plan—there are too many holes—but the clock is ticking, and they're fast running out of options. For all they know, the High Rip boys could already be in Birmingham. 

"Fine. I'll make a call," Polly announces, smacking her hands on the table. 

She leaves for the other room, and Esme moves to help Livy pack. 

"Are you sure about this, Livy?"

"What choice do I have?" 

There's a moment of uncomfortable silence before Livy spins around and grabs Esme by her hands. 

"Fuck off." Esme tries to push her away, but Livy is stronger and pulls her closer.  

"Listen," she insists. "Listen. I have a good feeling about this. It's going to be okay. I know it." Livy somehow manages a slight grin. "And look, I get to go on the road again after all."

Esme rolls her eyes under her thick lashes before giving in to the embrace.

'You're an evil cow, you know that right?" she whispers, her voice muffled before pulling back. "You take care of yourself. I know how you get out there, barefoot and wild. See—and you try to deny your gypsy blood?"

The room lights up with laughter, and for a moment, it's easy to imagine they're just two ordinary young women, friends enjoying each other's company. 

But they're not, and any joy they feel is short-lived. Polly returns, arms crossed, smoke trailing from her shaking hands. 

"It's done. My man will be here any minute. He'll get you to the Patch, but you'll have to find Johnny yourself." Her brow furrows. Polly is still not happy, but she's done all she can. "Make sure you hurry. Everything will get back to Tommy eventually, and Lord knows how your Jew will respond when he finds you missing."  

"Thank you, Pol." 

"Thank me later."

The three women stare awkwardly, and there's nothing left to do but wait. Fortunately, it's not long before they're interrupted by a knock on the door.

Time is up. 

"Go," commands Polly. 

Livy opens the door and finds a tall man with a peaked cap. She gulps, hoping he can be trusted—and then hopes he won't get shot by Thomas for helping her escape. Or by Alfie, for that matter. 

With one final look over her shoulder, she accepts his help and hops inside the car. 

"What about the dog, Miss?"

Livy spins around and finds Cyril waiting patiently by the door. 

"Go to Alfie, Cyril. Now. Home." 

The pup is stubborn and refuses to budge.

"Cyril," she shouts, but the clock is ticking, and she doesn't have time to argue with a dog. Instead, she pats the seat by her side. 

"C'mon then," Livy whispers as the door closes firmly behind them.

A/N: A few quick things: 

I reused a few lines of the original script out of context. I won’t go through and point it all out, because that’s fanfiction, innit? 😜

From my limited research, I don’t think Irish Traveller life was (is?) as free or accepting as I’m making out in this story. But it’s very romanticised in the show (IMO), so I’m rolling with it. Creative license and all, but just FYI – do your own research. 

If you haven’t seen it, I wrote a one-shot about Alfie x Livy and will probably write a few more (sometimes I need a smutty break from the plot). Check it out if you’re interested, but warning: very NSFW.

Tag List: @noz4a2​ @confessionbrain​ @omgeternal​ @potter-solomons​ @quarterpastmidnight​ @woofgocows​ @shaddixlife​ @redhead7799​

[house-of-secrets]

Alfie Lewis x Amber Millington ~ You are the best thing that has ever been mine ✨

[ryuzakemo128]

Four Horsemen

Chapter Seven: A house to call my own.

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x Red (Female Reader) Genre: Modern, sci-fi, mystery Trigger Warnings: Graphic Scenes Mention of violence and criminal activities Cursing, Swearing Rating: MA15+

Masterlist: Link

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[Red's Point of View]

The circular bathtub, made of exquisite black and gold marble, took pride of place in the center of the spacious bathroom. It was a drop-in style tub, seamlessly integrated into the smooth floor. Its large size provided ample room for indulgence, allowing one to sink into the depths of relaxation.

The surrounding tiles, a rich obsidian black, adorned the walls, reflecting the gleam of the candlelight that danced throughout the space. Their glossy surface added an air of sophistication to the room, while also creating a sense of depth and mystery. It was as if the tiles held secrets within their dark embrace.

A magnificent window, framed with elegant curtains, overlooked the enchanting woods beyond. Its generous proportions allowed streams of sunlight to filter into the room, casting a warm glow upon the luxurious surroundings. Nature's artwork became an ever-changing backdrop, with dappled light and swaying branches, offering a serene connection to the outside world.

Nestled near the window, on a small table, sat the silver incense burner. It took the delicate shape of a lotus flower, its petals gracefully unfurling, symbolizing purity and enlightenment. Fragrant smoke curled upward, carrying scents of sandalwood, lavender, and other calming essences, infusing the air with tranquility.

Adjacent to the bathtub, a shelf held an assortment of bathroom amenities, neatly organized. Shampoo, conditioner, and various oils awaited their turn to pamper and nourish the body. The bottles glistened in the sunlight, their labels a promise of luxurious self-care. Black towels hung on the towel warmer, I had a large de-humidifier inside the bathroom and another one just outside the bathroom to ensure air remains dry.

On the sink in a medium sized glass jewelry casket for my rings like my diamond and fire opal ring, my brass pair of cufflinks with several myriad amber stones, a gold pendant with several myriad diamonds given to her by several exes in the past.

There was an hourglass with white sand which timed how long I was in the bath for, the light red curtain for the large window and the midnight blue walls of the bathroom. I have several small velvet purses filled with coins in case I needed them, along with a small ceramic dish held my favorite blood red lipstick along with my favourite palette of neutral eyeshadow shades and jet black liquid eyeliner.

My pair of crimson silk slippers are always outside the bathroom to put on after having a bath. I kept a hairbrush with an ivory bone handle to brush my hair before I go to bed, usually keeping it in the end table drawer beside my bed. I lived far away from the hustle and bustle of the city, in a large cottage surrounded by a forest behind it.

Steam rose from the scalding hot water from inside the bathtub, the warmth embraced my body as I stepped into the tub sinking further into the water. Letting it envelope me, a sigh escaped my lips as the tension left my body, the pure bliss I felt. My friend was staying over for the night, she wanted to see the place for herself and she planned on taking me to an art auction in town the next day.

Adeline was visiting for two days and planned on staying over for two nights at the very least. She wasn't too sure about me living on my own for a while, stating she was afraid something could happen to me while I lived in a secluded area. I assured her every precaution was put into place long before I moved in.

She walked into the bathroom fifteen minutes after I started bathing to tell me what she was going to do while she was here, interrupting my moment of tranquility. Adeline was a lively and inquisitive woman, always eager to explore new adventures. Her vibrant red hair and mischievous smile were a stark contrast to my own calm demeanor.

"Red, darling, have you decided what you'd like to do tomorrow?" Adeline asked, her voice echoing in the marble bathroom.

I leaned back against the edge of the tub, allowing the warm water to support my body. "I was thinking we could start the day with a visit to the art auction in town. You know how much I adore discovering new artists and their creations." she continued.

"As much as you enjoy baking that's for sure." I replied thinking about it further, "Anything you wanted to do tomorrow? I assume the auction would be held during the night,"

Adeline replied, "Well, during the day, I thought we could take a stroll through the local market. They have a wide variety of fresh produce and unique crafts. It's always a treat to explore and support local businesses. And perhaps we could grab lunch at that charming little café we passed by last time."

A few hours later, we both went to bed, Adeline stayed in the guest room with her fiancé, James. Unlike them, I have dated around since I was 18 and never found someone who captivated my heart. It came close though, timing was never right and it was often due to them falling out of love first.

[thechosenanubis]

The Star Wars x HOA crossover AU [ that nobody asked for]

In honor of being of today being Star Wars day.... here are some of my headcanons for my very real and original Star Wars x HOA crossover AU that will never be written:

In this AU, everyone from the Star wars universe is alive 🥰 ( except for Palpatine... fuck that guy )

Nina and Anakin are besties. Chosen One solidarity for the win! Plus Anakin and Nina would benefit from having someone who would actually understand the pressure of "saving the world/galaxy" on their shoulders!

Eddie would 100% worships the ground Anakin walks on. He would absolutely want Anakin to teach him everything about podracing, and Anakin would actually do it no questions asked. They would be breaking traffic laws on Coruscant every night, but Anakin (since he is an 9 year old prodigy) would never let him and Eddie get caught.

Fabian would absolutely want to be a SpacePilot in this verse! You would find him with Anakin , Luke and Han in the corner talking about ultra-specific piloting moves and being absolute nerds about spaceships. ( nobody understands any of the gargon they spit out.)

Mara would enjoy learning all about the different economies and politics and worlds of the SW universe. She would absolutely spend thousand of hours in the Jedi Library trying to learn more about each planet.

Willow would absolutely be a Jedi in this verse, no questions asked. (and to make it more hilarious... she's Mace Windu padawan. Think about the hilarity of the situation: This no-fun-allowed-ever™ stoic Jedi with Willow who is the epitome of sunshine it's a dynamic I need )

Patricia and Leia would actually hate each other at first sight ( if we are talking about AnH!Leia she and Patricia would be fighting every other day.) But if we are talking about RotJ!Leia, I think she would be a good role model that Patricia would strive to be like.

Amber would be absolutely in love with Naboo's culture and their extravagant and perfect outfits for every event!

The handmaidens would absolutely adore the Anubis girl "Sisterhood" club, and would try to teach them eveything about self-defense! [ just girly things y'know? badass girls helping other badass girls ]

Joy I think wierdly enough, would get along brilliantly with Obi-wan, who would have her for tea every once a while. The two would enjoy some quiet company almost peaceful.

Alfie would be Obi-wan's ( and Mace Windu's) new bane of existence. He would literally make both masters loose their composure atleast twice a day!

Jerome once tried to scam Han, but Han understood his intentions immediately. But I think Han would be actually kind of impressed by Jerome's cunning mind that he would take him under his wing, teaching him all about the SW underworld ( and even how to be a better friend to Alfie in the process yes i'm still bitter sbout that )

KT and Luke would enjoy talking about their family, and how they had hid something important from them until it was too late. (cough*somethingvader*cough)

Mick would love learning all about Jedi training and battle forms ( but i don't know if he would have the patience for becoming a jedi tho.... 🤔)

[kinkedtailed]

Alfonso

a.k.a. Alfie 🍪

Bday: 01 01 2023

Gender: male

Breed: permese (persian x siamese)

Color: ginger

Eyes: amber

Collar: sky blue

Sterilized: yes

Vaccine: anti-rabies

Medicines

LC vit plus - 1ml every morning

Medical history

Due to playing roughly, his hind leg was once sprained; and, in a separate occasion, got bad breath because his tooth bled

He won't eat if he feels unwell or sick (even if he wanted to - you can easily tell)

Diet

He likes his food with purified water (even if he's already an adult)

He stares and leads you to his bowl when he's hungry

Yes, his own bowl - slightly bigger than the rest because he's grown huge; elevated to protect his neck; and tilted to separate the cat food (top) from the purified water (bottom)

Personality

His dad is a persian while his mom is a siamese

He is very friendly with everyone - never starts a fight nor fights back

He used to get lonely when Kalista is not around; but now Joaquin is his new favorite

He likes to cuddle but doesn't like to be touch; he kneads occasionally

He loves cold places like airconditioned rooms

Name origin

Alfonso is named after an alcoholic beverage

Alfie is simply shortening his name

Pipoy is the male counterpart of Pipay

He also goes by the name Alfiepoy, Popoy, Poypoy, Poypoy da poy, or just Poy

Mayor is what we call him when he is wearing his necktie

[ironicsopsychotic]

mick: this is my girlfriend, mara. she’s kind and talented and wonderful and amazing.

nina: this is my boyfriend, fabian. he’s sweet and adorable and gentle and brilliant.

amber: this is my boyfriend, alfie. he’s not allowed out in public by himself anymore.

[deadinarussianelevator]

For the record, I would LOVE it if a suitor gave me a gift of a baby vulture adoption certificate.

[the-fiction-witch]

Wait... What

Media House of Anubis

Character Jerome Clarke

Couple Jerome X Reader

Rating Adorable AF

I stood swapping my books away in my locker, as Alife came and leant on the locker next to me. 

"Ughh... My brain is seeking..."

"When doesn't it?" I laughed,

"I am really struggling today,"

"With that... breathing and thinking?"

"No, It's Amber she's been worried all day,"

"...about what? her credit card over the limit again? Or did she chip her acrylics?" 

"... well, yeah she did go over her credit card limit but that's not what she's worried about,"

"Oh? enlighten me then?"

"She's worried about Y/n obvi,"

"...Why?" My curiosity perked, 

"because of her and Sam."

"Her and Sam?" I asked very interested in this conversation, "What... is... happening... with... y/n and Sam?"

"Sam cheated on her Jerome."

"he did!" I asked trying to hide my excitement, "He...he did? That sucks for Y/n. What a dick Sam is."

"Jerome... are you excited that Y/n and Sam broke up?"

"wait...what." I gulped, "They broke up!" 

"Yeah of course they did, Ambers' been worried about her all day and said she's locked in their room crying."

"Perfect." 

"...what?"

"This is it. this is the way it begins, the start of the romantic arc! I have to go. I won't be in French." I told him grabbing my bag and heading down the hall, 

"wha- Jerome where are you going!"

"Back to the dorm." I answered, "There is a heartbroken girl in need of my - Comfort."

"what am I meant to say? about why you're not in class?"

"say, I'm ill. I'm kidnapped. I'm dead! say whatever you want Alfie! But I am going, I need to go, and be comforting to the very sad and very beautiful... Future Mrs Clarke," I smiled before bolting off to return to the dorm. 

[piper-williamson]

my hoa ranking of characters — least favorite to favorite

not all characters are on this list but the ones i felt like i could rank as of rn. there’s too many minor characters i don’t care for and it’s not that i particularly care for the others i just remembered them enough to rank.

~~~~~~~~~~

rufus — -70969943853/10

kidnapped patricia. and jerome. and trudy. willing to commit human sacrifice of a kid. threatened them with electric bees or whatever. have had nightmares about him. thrilled that bitch is dead

denby — -10/10

so threatening with her words but she’s all talk. no action. kinda makes me hate her more? but in a different way. storyline is so messy like how did she even find out harriet’s destiny and how did she then decide she wanted to awaken a >hundred year old man and basically a hell demon?? like girl just go work for donald trump or somethin

vera — -6/10

not as annoying as denby but still like what did she even want? to be with rufus? why?!?? creepy af the time she was frozen dead but like not.

mick — 1/10

just,,, there. all he does is be in love triangles and play the sports. half of his storylines are just him leaving. patricia says there’s a man in the house (rufus) and he eats a banana. n who gives their gf and “just a friend” matching bracelets?!? 1 point for not being evil.

victor — 1.5/10

as much as i wanna put him above mick, he yells too much. calm down old man. 1 point for caring for the kids enough to not carry on when he found out about the whole human sacrifice thing. also saving joy in s2. y’know what he gets half a point more than mick.

trudy — 4/10

trudy is heartwarming but holy shit is she oblivious. Is Just Ok with “robert smith” being there even when she has no confirmation of his identity. very loyal to the kids and does protect them from a lot of shit. writers did her dirty a lot of the time.

mara — 5/10

ok listen. i don’t dislike mara. i just tend to favor the sibuna mystery storylines, and all of her stories are more realistic scenarios. that being said i love her helping poppy and i also love the sisterhood thing in s3. but also mara why the FUCK would you fall for mick like he’s mick??!?

kt — 7/10

written into hoa way better than on shows like h2o where there’s just one sentence about emma being gone and that’s that. she wasn’t just nina’s replacement, she was her own person. love her personality and her friendship with eddie. 100% a lesbian. only reason she’s so low is cuz no matter how good she is of a replacement character she still kinda is one and i don’t do well with those. i’m working on it.

nina — 8/10

i love nina so much. fabina is so cute together. i think the only reason i have her so low and don’t wanna put her higher is cuz i always hate main characters, even though i don’t hate nina. my mind is strange.

amber — 8/10

dumb blonde stereotype but who cares i love her. provides much comic relief for me especially in s2. ping pong queen. also love her bday episode. ungrateful for alfie at times. also liked mick but it’s a little more understandable cuz Hot Guy cliche. but was also mean to mara about it. but also a lot of that was mick’s fault #blamemick

alfie — 8/10

class clown who’s loyal af. Actually completes amber’s bf trial list. would go through hell for her. always feeling like he has to prove himself to the group but he’s always been an asset. we love him.

willow — 8/10

was such a comfort character when i was little. for some reason rewatching she was less of one. still absolutely so pure of heart and lovable. somebody get this girl a hedgehog.

eddie — 9/10

cool dude™. top notch bf. peddie is one of my fav ships ever. he kinda gets all heroic in s3 but s3 has a whole set of issues. plot twist reveal of his daddy issues. great development while being a great character the whole time.

fabian — 9/10

such a solid dude. guy-falls-for-girl-first trope to the max. he’s awkward and nerdy but not really cocky or annoying. fabian defense squad for life. point off for kissing joy like dude besides the outfit she looks nothing like nina come on.

jerome — 9/10

terrible person at times, but great character. comfort character of mine. his flaws allowed him to be developed throughout the show. he feels very real and human and i love him.

piper - 10/10

obsessed w her cuz i’m also pretty similar to her. both of us go (went) to music school and love patricia. not that i think she’s a BETTER character than a lot of the characters lower on this list, but this is a ranking of my favs so she has to be above them.

joy — 10/10

also a comfort character. i honestly feel most like joy out of all the characters. similar to jerome in that her character flaws lead to richer development. i live for it. was Literally held hostage by her parents and forced into a cult in s1. most of anubis house seemed to just brush that off. that doesn’t excuse her actions, but i love her growth throughout the series. not higher cuz she was kind of a dick to nina for a long while.

patricia — 10000000000+++/10

again i wish there were an infinity symbol. do i even have to say anything? witty and sarcastic and says what’s on her mind. i wish i were eddie cuz i’m in love w her. i know amber’s the one who went to fashion school, but patricia is a style icon. my gay awakening.