#and nowhere is it more clear than with Thomas

[leonsliga]

thomas jumping into manu's arms 🥺😭

It’s like a scene out of a romance movie 🥰

I love how soft they are with each other. Thomas has nothing but sweet words to say whenever he’s asked about his decade partner, and it’s clear there’s no one else Manu would rather hold close. He can’t help but lift him up (literally and figuratively) at every opportunity.

[mypoisonedvine]

Your Tommy’s little pet and he takes you to the races with him and gets pissed when you try to run away from him and fucks you in a somewhat public place. And it makes you regret even thinking about trying to run away from him because he’s Thomas mf Shelby

OH you filthy little genius. i love this

warnings: DARK NONCON SMUT 18+ only, public sex, implied kidnapping/captivity, breeding kink, possessiveness

"Did you really think you could get away from me?" he growled in your ear. "Did you really think I'd ever let you leave me?"

"Tommy, please, n-not here," you whimpered, reaching back to try to push his hips away to stop him from fucking you so hard, "people are looking at us..."

He grabbed your hand and roughly forced it back in front of you, holding it down against the railing that looked out over the track. "Let them look, darling," he purred, "doesn't change a fuckin' thing... you're mine. If Tommy Shelby wants to use his woman, doesn't matter where we are or who's watching... m'gonna use you how I like."

You tried to hide your burning face in your arms, whimpering as Tommy drove into you hard and fast; he straightened himself, no longer draping his body over yours, and you felt even more exposed by that somehow. It would be obvious to anyone who looked what he was doing to you, and anyone who heard the loud clapping of skin on skin was going to look...

The more you avoided the thought of how many people must be watching you now, seeing Tommy take you so brutally, the more you were forced to think about how he felt inside you-- how his cock stretched you open and drove deep within you until your legs began to shake. If it weren't for his tight grip on your hips holding you up, you probably would've collapsed onto the dirty floor of the betting parlor.

One of his hands began to run up your back, fingers petting your spine through your thin dress-- over the roar of the race, you could still hear his low hum of satisfaction. Against all logic, your body responded to his touch so well, goosebumps breaking out across your skin wherever his fingers roamed. He leaned down over you again, wanting you to hear clearly whatever he had to say.

"When everyone knows you're mine, there's nowhere for you to go," he explained lowly. "There's nowhere you can run from me, love-- they all know you're my woman. And they know how far I'll go to keep you."

You shuddered, hating the moan that suddenly left your mouth-- and hating more that he heard it loud and clear, as he made obvious with his proud little chuckle.

"How about I breed you right here, hm?" he purred as he pet your hair out of your face, groaning beside your ear. "In front of all these people... how about I fill you up nice and deep you can have a little Shelby of your own?"

You figured he really must have no shame at all: it was bad enough that he was fucking you here, but to conceive a child at the race track? Would he stoop that low just to degrade you? But, then again, he'd been promising to get you pregnant since the start-- for all you knew, you already were.

You had plenty of shame, though; it ran through you and made your stomach turn, yet it made a pang of heavy pleasure hit between your legs. It took you this long to realize that the humiliation of being fucked in public like this was spurring on your orgasm, rather than hindering it. Apparently, Tommy had awoken something rather twisted within you...

"C'mon then, love," he groaned roughly, "let me feel you come for me-- say my name."

You whined, knowing from experience that you were better off doing as he said now before he forced you to. "Tommy," you moaned, but he

"Nice and loud, darling-- let them all hear you," he encouraged. "Say it!"

"Tommy!" you cried, tossing your head back as your walls pulsed around him-- you kept your eyes shut tight, terrified to see how many eyes were lingering on you. He moaned proudly through a smile as he came inside you, wrapping one of his arms around your neck to keep you still as he buried himself as far inside you as he could reach.

"Good girl," he praised as he caught his breath, kissing the side of your face sweetly. "I bet every man here wishes you were his, wishes he could make you scream like that. But every man knows exactly who you belong to... so they'll just having to keep dreaming, won't they?"

[thatscarletflycatcher]

The @hotjaneaustenmenpoll tournament has inspired me to finally write this post, this more than a post, this bit of FUNDAMENTAL Austen adaptation research.

It is well known that there was a Mansfield Park adaptation in 2007, for which the reception went from "eh?" to "huh?", but what most people around here probably don't know, is that this was the cover for the DVD release in Spain:

And you'll naturally ask, who is that handsome blonde man on the right? He definitely isn't Michelle Ryan, we know what she looks like.

He's Baddeley. The butler. The butler at Mansfield Park. Emma's 2020 class commentary this, and Emma 1996 (ITV) social commentary that, but has any of them put a servant on the cover? Thought so. And people have the gall of calling this a bad, unfaithful adaptation :P

So, in honor of Baddeley and his being the only servant I can think of in the Austen canon of whom we have some pov writing, and what is better, that pov is inner snarky thoughts about Mrs Norris, let's have every time Baddeley shows up in MP 2007, witnesses iconic events, and wins his spot on the DVD cover.

Here we have Baddeley serving some refreshments during Henry and Mary's first visit to Mansfield:

Here we have him also serving some wine to sir Thomas during the very awkward dinner that followed his return from Antigua:

Here we have Baddeley making sure Fanny's special picnic goes perfect:

That includes making sure nobody is dying of thirst (dancing is a very taxing activity!):

Here we have him at the zenith moment of his telling Mrs Norris that she's not wanted:

Evil never rests, and neither does Baddeley's commitment to keeping people hydrated, in this case, during a mouth-drying reading of Shakespeare by Henry:

Sometimes Baddeley's work involves improvising, and taking on jobs others would have considered beneath their title, such as carrying Edmund's bags:

Or helping sir Thomas get out of his traveling coat:

But this also has its rewards, as door watch duty allows him to witness the moment sir Thomas yeets Mrs Norris out of Mansfield:

Alas, in a clear commentary on the class issues of the regency era, despite his relevance to the plot and constant presence at life turning moments of the family, he was not invited and nowhere to be seen at Edmund and Fanny's wedding, while absolute strangers got to witness the momentous occasion instead.

Baddeley, friend, don't be sad. You were there, in our hearts.

[yestrday]

is there ever a soft side to your yandere ayato? are there moments when he treats his darling as more of an actual lover compared to a pet? and is he ever vulnerable with them? :o

did i make him that horrible? i thought the whole 'treat you as a pet' thing was kinda hot. maybe my audience isn't really into that... well, i do understand lol yanderes are meant to love you

hybrid sawshark! ayato isn't one to bow to humans, but he acknowledges the changes you've had on his life. while he does get a kick out of bullying whenever he teaches you, he makes it clear that he likes to pamper you. his competitors are fluffy-tailed dogs and soft-eared mammals. his denticles might not be very pleasing to pet, but he still puts a bit of an effort to make you like him. the others think it's to irk them, especially with the sly smile he sends their way after he successfully woos you over, but thoma knows that it's probably because he's a bit insecure about his lack of... fluffiness.

academy! ayato doesn't put much effort at all. there's a clear power imbalance between the two of you, and he treats you more like a trophy rather than a lover. he showers you with lots and lots of gifts, but as a way to shackle you to him. he does get his soft moments though— laced fingers as you walk through the entertainment district, fond gazes as you focus on your homework, and delicate fingers tucking your hair behind your ear as you fall asleep on said homework. he does get soft, but he never makes it shown to you because he's afraid he might lose the control in this imbalance.

househusband! ayato is a lot more comfortable with you. your marriage isn't arranged or forced; you willingly took him as your husband. so he has a bit more solace and is more willing to open up around you. when none of his yandere tendencies are trigered, you two have a disgustingly normal and domestic life. think: giggling while he twirls you to the music on the tv, hugging you from behind as you cook breakfast, taking you on romantic candlelight dinners because he can, casually flirting with you out of nowhere just so he can see you flustered.

[zeroducks-2]

This is quite random sorry but has Dick ever acknowledge (or as close to it) that a lot of things that Bruce did to him are abusive? (this is for a fic I’m trying to write)

Yes and no!

Dick knows Bruce is an assholes and WILL yell at him to stop being an asshole, or at least he used to. Dick would call him out on his BS and wouldn't let him get away with a lot of things, but this was once upon a time, before they rebooted everything and erased decades of character development. The closest he gets to that post reboot is after Forever Evil - everyone thinks Dick is dead, and Bruce wants people to keep thinking that, hence he forces Dick to join Spiral and become Agent 37.

Dick is, as you can imagine, not thrilled. He yells and fights and Bruce beats the everloving shit out of him in a very upsetting sequence, where Dick is half naked and Bruce is wearing most of his gear while he keeps hitting him to the point of leaving him bleeding on the floor of the Batcave.

Dick begs and tries to appeal to everything he can including the "things can never be the same between us after this", to which Bruce essentially replies that it's a sacrifice he's willing to make. Ha. I say that this is especially upsetting because Dick went through a horribly traumatic experience during the events of Forever Evil, in which among other things he was tortured by Thomas Wayne Jr AKA Owlman, who wanted to turn Dick into his own sidekick after losing his Talon. The way Bruce beats and humiliates Dick is drawn in a way which creates a clear parallel between Thomas and Bruce's actions towards Dick, in a way that suggests they're "not that different after all", but this narratively goes nowhere and I don't get why they fuck they even came up with that. But anyway.

All of this gets forgotten soon enough. Despite his own warnings Dick forgives Bruce after a very short time, pines for home and tries to communicate with Bruce in any way he can because he "misses his dad", which to be honest made my guts churn and my bile rise after Bruce nearly beat him comatose. Essentially the story forgets Bruce did all of that and so does Dick, but for the brief time Dick was allowed to be aware of it and angry about it, he was indeed aware that he was being abused even if he never used the word abuse.

This is the case for lots of stories in which similar instances happen, as I mentioned before especially pre-reboot. Dick does call Bruce out on his bullshit - especially if Bruce is being an abusive asshole to someone else, since Dick is way more prone to defend other people than he is to defend himself, like here

or here

But despite being obviously aware that there are issues in the way Bruce does things, to put it mildly, he never uses the word "abuse" (which is sort of a prohibited word for DC standards, kind of like "rape". They're way more likely to say non consensual than rape because it's a less upsetting word apparently).

There is an instance of this post reboot, and it's during a conversation Dick has with Tim. I believe it happens in the Pride comics of 2022, but I don't have the panels on hand at the moment. Basically Tim asks for advice on how to please Bruce, being the man demanding and prone to bad moods, and Dick flat out replies "I spent a very big part of my life trying to please him, and I left when I realized it was impossible" which to me is so interesting since it's the textbook reaction of a former Golden Child who fell from grace and became a Scapegoat (please note that tumblr's definition of Golden Child is completely arbitrary; golden child doesn't mean "good kid", it means a child who the parent holds to the highest standards, on which there are the biggest expectations and the strongest pressure regarding everything the child does. Sometimes a parent lives vicariously through them and perceives them as an extension of themselves, but not necessarily. If you watched Encanto, Isabella is the Golden Child of the family).

Something similar happens during Nightwing's run from the 90s.

Dick lives in Bludhaven and at this point he's gone essentially no-contact with Bruce. Tim, being the new Golden Child, is trying to reel Dick back into the toxic dynamic because he genuinely thinks it's going to be good for both Dick and Bruce.

I'm pointing this out not to fault Tim in any way, he's just a kid what does he know, but to show you that indeed yes, Dick is aware that he's been abused otherwise he wouldn't have left, he wouldn't be on a no talking basis with his parental figure, and he wouldn't reply to Tim that he spent so much time of his life deluding himself into thinking that Batman actually needed him. Of course this also goes nowhere and their relationship isn't allowed to grow or heal (things are just conveniently forgotten after a while), but as I mentioned, Dick knows what's up.

That being said, I believe it's also worth noting that many many times Bruce abuses the fuck out of Dick and Dick doesn't really acknowledge it, just takes it. Sometimes he doesn't have the spoons to fight back, sometimes he thinks he deserves it, sometimes he just doesn't know how to react because Bruce strikes like an unprovoked viper (this happens especially when Dick was still a kid but already a Titan). A very good example of this is what happens after Jason's death.

Bruce doesn't tell Dick that Jason died. When Alfred offers to let him know, Bruce says "I will handle it", and he doesn't. Then there's Jason's funeral and Bruce doesn't tell Dick about it, again Alfred offers to inform him, Bruce says he will handle it. He doesn't.

Eventually Dick finds out for collateral reasons and has an emotional breakdown in front of the other Titans, which are powerless to help him. For reference, this is how he reacts when he has definitive proof that the boy is undoubtedly gone, if there was any doubt that Dick did care about Jason.

So Dick goes to the grave with Kory but then decided to confront Bruce alone, and Bruce, in the abusive feat of the century, blames Dick for not having showed up to Jason's funeral, despite having refused to 1: tell him about Jason's death AT ALL, and 2: refused TWICE when Alfred very gently suggested to inform Dick.

Dick of course argues that he didn't know anything, and so Bruce reacts by gaslighting him, telling him they he never cared about Jason and in fact he was angry that Bruce adopted Jason and not him. Which is not true, Dick just wanted to know WHY Bruce adopted Jason and hot him. Oh and also punches him in the face when Dick tries to argue that Jason was an untrained kid. Please note that when all of this happens, Dick is hurt and can barely stand on his feet, having one of his legs in a cast.

Cherry on top, Bruce explicitly saying that he never should have had a partner and never will again, essentially "our partnership up to this point meant nothing".

In this instance Dick is too neck-deep in his own self guilt to see that he's been through a sequence of extremely abusive behavior, and never really faults Bruce for that, using the easy-coming rationalization that Bruce was in pain, suffering for Jason's death, couldn't see reason etc etc (quick PSA: someone suffering isn't entitled to abuse and gaslight anyone. And even if we really want to enable Bruce cut Bruce some slack because he was grieving, it doesn't make his behavior any less abusive. Regardless of the reasons why, the way he acts here is very damaging towards Dick who in turn did nothing to deserve it, and is grieving Jason too).

See, the problem with Dick and Bruce is the sysyphean nature of comicbooks. Dick is doomed to be the original Golden Child who falls from grace, becomes the Scapegoat, but ultimately can never be completely free of the clutches of the relationship he has and had with Bruce, for better or worse. And since he can't ever truly get out and can't ever completely be independent, the abuse end up getting downplayed. If Dick never truly gets away from Bruce it's because it's not that bad, isn't it? Nay, it's because Dick cant. He is quite literally not allowed to, same as Bruce is not allowed to truly grow from his mistakes and learn to treat his former partner, sort-of-child and dear friend with the respect and love he actually feels for him, because despite all of this and because this is fiction, Bruce does love Dick more than it can be put into words and would set the world on fire for him. But, alas, he also is doomed to keep treating Dick like shit and never really learn from his mistakes.

So again, the answer to your question is yes and no. Dick is aware of how much of a difficult person Bruce is. He's aware of the domineering aspects of his personality. But he will ultimately brush it off in the name of the good that there is and there was between them, and he will keep answering Batman's call every time, because he's not allowed to ever truly grow apart from him. It doesn't matter how much he gets angry and how much Bruce hurts him, they're indissolubly tied in this dynamic and unless there is a huge shift in the way DC execs handle things, I don't see how this dynamic can change in the foreseeable future. Sadly enough, because I'd really like to see something new.

[cosmic-crybaby]

Break My Heart Again - Tommy Shelby x Reader

Part 5

Summary: After being childhood friends, you and Thomas made a promise one day to get married, but when he returned from France, he came back a completely different man.

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending.

1934, soon after Tommy's' battle had ended. Three more Shelby's' dead, and one less evil he had to worry about right now. His second wife, Lizzy Stark, was nowhere to be seen and was never found. Neither was his son, Charles. After the alleged affair with Diana Mosley, she left Tommy behind. As he did with the rest of his family.

So, where was he now?

Ireland. Finding himself knocking at the door of the home he knew she resided in. The sun was barely breaking through the forever gloom of the grey clouds, he shoved his hands in his pockets as he turns around, looking at the green grassy hill, cattle grazing the lawns minding their own.

"Who are you?" The voice came from behind him. Tommy moved his body, eyes snapping down in front of him to see a young girl. Around the age of four or five, standing in the threshold of the doorway. Her head was slightly tilted, as she peered up at him with her big eyes. Tommy tried to find the words, as he was speechless. She looked almost identical to Charles.

"I...I am um..." He began to speak, but footsteps cut him off and made him look up again. The front door was pulled open.

And then she appeared. His last breath got caught in his throat when his eyes fell on her. She looked even more beautiful than the day he saw her. The day she left and the day he found her, all those months later. Seeing her up close again, made him feel like he was frozen. His mind was buzzing with a myriad of questions, apologies, excuses. She wore a house dress, her hair was pulled into a bun, pieces of hair framing her slim face.

"[Name]," Tommy said. His voice made her eyes quickly snap up from the young girl to him. She froze for a moment as she saw who was waiting for her. She never thought she would see THE Thomas Shelby...ever again. Everything else seemed to disappear when she locked eyes with him.

"Mummy...who is this?" The girl pulled on her mothers dress, breaking the silence.

[Name] managed to break her eyes away first to see her daughter, Maeve, looking between the two adults in confusion.

"Darling...this is an old friend...Tommy Shelby,"

Old Friend was an odd way to put it. Knowing they were nowhere near that title, it made Tommy chuckle a bit. But the label would do for now. The young girl nods once and smiled up at the tall man.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Shelby," Maeve spoke before turning to her mother.

"You as well, darling," Tommy managed a small smile. [Name] cleared her throat and kneeled down a bit to talk to Maeve.

"Maeve, can you be a big girl and go check on Cian for me? make sure he's still asleep," She suggested, knowing that she didn't want the children to be around while she talked with Tommy. The girl nods with determination, exiting the area and down the hall. [Name] takes a deep breath and moves away from the door.

"Come in,"

The inside of the Byrne estate was large, clean, and full of light. Nothing compared to what Tommy had at Arrow house, but it somehow had the same comfort. The two sat across from each other at the dining table. Tommy would tell it was well crafted and made from the hands of the Tall brunette man he saw before. Neither Tommy nor [name] knew what to say to each other. It felt like hours had passed as they were locked in each others gaze.

"You found me..." She stated.

"I did...I came looking for you, everywhere...Turing to every connection I had...I had to find you [name], " He answered her, not bothered how desperate he sounded.

Because deep down he knew he was.

"Why now?" She questioned. "After all these years,"

"I wanted to apologize, for everything I had done and put you through...I'm sorry for lying, for the things that I left out, for leaving you...everything. You deserved to know, more than anyone," Thomas answered, his words rang in your ears, holding as much sincerity as they can.

The woman across from him nods, her face didn't change as she stared at him. Her glaze bouncing from his eyes to his lips to the worn hands he placed on the table.

"I had wished you well and vouched to never lay my eyes on you again, yet here you are apologizing to me again...You sure made a name for yourself Tommy," She commented, a small smile forming on her face. She couldn't lie, she was proud of him. "It wasn't uncommon around here, my late husband would speak of it every now and then, I would have to pretend like I didn't know who you were,"

"Late husband?...my condolences,"

[Name] nods once and held her hand up for a moment to stop him from going on further.

"He passed just last year, consumption...Maeve was only four and Cian was barely a year," She informed him, a lump caught in her throat and a gloss in her eyes. A knowing look formed on Tommy's features, he would know all about loss.

Greta, Grace, John, Polly, and Ruby.

"Do you have anyone for yourself now?" She asked, changing her subject.

"I did...remember Lizzie Stark?"

[Name] nods, and refrained from rolling her eyes. After she had exposed Tommy for who he really was, she found out about his secret relationship with his assistant. Leaving her spiraling under the realization that again, he chose another woman that wasn't her.

"We got married and had a daughter, Ruby...she's gone now, also consumption, after everything had happened, Lizzie took Charles and left,"

Silence had fallen between them, but it wasn't daunting...it was comfortable. She didn't know what else to say...what else could she really say? She looked at the dining table, her nail slightly digging into its' surface while Thomas held his gaze on her for a moment, admiring her beauty and how, even now, she still looked as youthful as ever. He ultimately made the decision to break the silence between them.

"I don't want to waste any more of your time...Just know what I am still sorry," He said to her, shifting as he felt the heartbreak hit him and standing from the dining table. She said nothing as she heard his chair scrape against the floor, and his footsteps leading him to the foyer. An inch away from grabbing the door handle before he caught her voice calling for him.

"Tommy wait!"

He quickly turned around. Their hearts pounding as she stood in front of him. She looked like she wanted to spill something to him. Tell him everything that she had held away. Her eyes searched his until he asked a simple: 'what is it?' in a breathy tone. Her lips quivered as she tried to find the words. For once, she was speechless in front of him.

"Maeve...she's not..." [name] started. She took a deep breath and Thomas found himself holding her shaking hands in his. She swallows and nods once as he looks into her eyes. 'Breathe'.

"My husband, Andrew, he didn't know...For Christ sake I tried to keep it from him all these years and after he passed, I feel guilty even now...but, Maeve she's not his...she's yours Tommy," Tears pricked her eyes. Tommy stared with wide eyes. He couldn't question her, the time added up, he saw what her late husband looked like and he saw what her daughter looked like. He could recognize those ice-like eyes anywhere. Licking his dry lips, he sighs heavily.

"I know..." He mumbled. "I could see the Shelby resemblance in her when I saw her...I didn't want to believe it at first...but after looking at her again, I saw it,"

She wanted to call an objection to his words but decided to keep her mouth shut, knowing that the Shelby's liked to keep their pride.

Even if it was an exaggeration.

Silence fell between them once again. Tommy steps closer, grabbing one of [names] hands. His hands were ice hold and hers were warm like the flames that roared in the fireplace.

"I'd like to see you again, [Name]" He told her, a ghost of a smile forming on his lips.

"There is a lot of catching up that we need to do...," She looked down at their intertwined hands. Thomas reaches for the woman's other hand. His gaze softened as he drew in closer, her lids closed slowly as his cold, cracked lips connected with her soft and plump lips. Her heart ignited, that small flame that slowly gave out when her husband passed suddenly blew up. Except this time, it was a different type of love. This version of Thomas Shelby was...new.

The woman tried to keep calm as the gangster pulled away from the kiss, afraid he wouldn't be able to stop once he got started.

"Very well then," Giddy on the inside as she kept her smile small.

"I'll see you tomorrow," He told her calmly, one hand rubbing up and down her arm before he took his leave.

The days and weeks to come, Tommy got along well with Maeve. The more the two got along, the more [Name] saw the resemblance. Cian was more attached to his mother by the hip, usually shadowing her until he was familiar enough with Thomas's presence. With the two in bed together one night, [Name] lifts her head as she felt Thomas digging through his nightstand.

"What are you doing?" She asked curiously as she tried to look in the drawer as well. Thomas held the object in his hand, closing his hand into a fist as he laid back down and looked at his beautiful girl.

"I found this, a few months ago...before I came to see you," He started. "Everything else was destroyed, but I kept this because I knew I would find you again one day, and give it to you..."

"Come on, Tommy what is it?" She asked, sitting up on her knees, trying to reach for his hand. He pulled his hand away and gave her a look. 'Wait' It said.

"No matter what happened between us, I knew I would come back to you, even after all these years...all of this pain...it has always been you...I'm so sorry it took me all this time to realize it," He told her. He grabbed her hand with his free hand and slipped the gold ring on her finger. It still fight like a glove, maybe even more-so now. In awe, she watched as he slipped the ring on her finger. It was cold on her warm skin, causing goosebumps to form on her arms.

"Thomas...?" She gasped. Looking at him, then at the ring, then at him again as her eyes were wide, tears forming in her eyes.

"[Name]…will you do me the honor of marrying me?" He asked. It made her think back to their childhood and that promise they made for each other.

"Oh Thomas...yes," She nods happily. Not hesitating to jump into his arms and kiss him like there was no tomorrow.

"I've loved you from the start,"

---

[Tag List]

@mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @milljane @cyphah @diosa-ahre-blog @badlandsbrunette @adaydreamaway08 @namelessghoul0 @deltamoon666 @cherryslyce @calmingmelody96 @bruher @galactict3a @soulmates8 @angelofdarkness2468

[peakyswritings]

Reb!! First i want to thank you for reading the last chapters of my thg! series i read your comments and 🥺❤️. Promise to reply them as soon as I can.

Then if your requests are still open, would you write a Tommy x Nina using this prompt:

"i’m only here for the dog cat"

Maybe it suits them 🤭❤️.

Thanks in advance! And of course there's no pressure at all!!

A/N: thank you so much for sending this, Flor!🤍 and don’t worry about the replies, I’m much behind with them myself! I made a little AU for this one, and I had so much fun writing this! (I also got a bit carried away and became longer than intended lmao)

Nina Ferrante is the OC from my Tommy Shelby x OC series Heart, Body and Soul. This is not set in the series universe, so even if you haven’t read the series, you can read this one.

Summary: the Ferrante family temporarily moves from Sicily to Birmingham to conduct business with Tommy Shelby. However, soon he finds himself stuck with something that doesn’t belong to him.

Warnings: mentions of violence/killing, English is not my first language, no proofreading.

Word count: 1.2k

Send me a prompt and I’ll write something short☀️

Nina regretted not wearing a coat the moment she stepped out the Midland Hotel. The cold hair cut through her clothes, pricking her skin like a thousand tiny needles, setting deep into her bones. It would take more than a week to get used to that kind of weather, or to the stench of coal and iron that permeated the air. Small Heath was unlike the Sicilian village she had grown up in, in many different ways. But as she hurried past the grey buildings, and the crowded houses, and the factories, she found herself unable to pay much attention to it, or to the mud sticking to her shoes. She couldn’t even pay attention to the glances the men around her shot at her. Winston was her only concern.

She had been looking for him in her hotel room for over an hour. Above the closet, under the bed, even in the unlit fireplace, but he was nowhere to be found. She was on the verge of a mental breakdown when the phone rang and a familiar voice on the other side informed her that a certain black cat had sneaked into his office. Nina shouldn’t have been surprised, though. During her family’s business meetings with Mr Thomas Shelby at the hotel, Winston had seemed to manifest a curiosity - maybe even a liking - towards the gangster.

When she walked past the doors of the Shelby Company Limited, a big man with a grim expression stopped in front of her. He cleared his throat, looking down at her. “Who are you?”

“I’m here to see Mr Shelby,” she ignored his question, going straight to the point. She didn’t have the time nor the will for the formalities, and she didn’t like the way the brute was clearly trying to intimidate her.

“What do you want with Mr Shelby?”

“He has something mine.”

The man squinted his eyes in confusion, probably wondering what Tommy Shelby could ever take from a girl like her. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it right away, as if in the middle of some kind of realisation. Nina could almost see his brain cells working to put the pieces together.

“You’re one of those wops,” he noted, and the hint of disgust in his voice was enough to send a wave of irritation through her. Before she had the chance to say something, he reached over to her. “I have to search you, miss.”

“Keep your fucking hands to yourself,” she spat, taking a step back. She glared at him, silently daring him to try and put his hands on her again. Search her. Like Hell.

The man sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s the protocol, miss.”

“You can stick your protocol up yo-”

“The lady’s fine, Scudboat.” A deep voice interrupted her mid-sentence. Thomas Shelby was standing in the middle of the room, his hands in his pockets, and Nina wondered how it was possible that none of them had heard him arrive. “Let her pass.”

“Yes, sir.” With a single nod, Scudboat moved out of the way, finally allowing her to walk further into the room. “Good luck with this one,” he muttered under his breath as he took his place by the doors again.

A heavy silence fell into the room. Shelby’s icy stare was studying her as he had studied her father and brothers during their meetings, and she would’ve lied if he had said that the thing didn’t make her at least a bit uneasy. He carried himself as if he held all the cards, and everyone else was just another pawn in his game. Even when it wasn’t him who had the upper hand. However, in this case, he did have the upper hand. Maybe going into his territory all alone hadn’t been her best idea. But it was too late to panic, and she still had her knife, safely hidden in her pocket.

Behind his placid expression, Tommy was somewhat surprised to see Vincenzo Ferrante’s daughter herself. He had expected her to send her father, or her brothers. Instead, she had walked through the streets of Small Heath on her own, and entered the doors of his company as if she were untouchable. He didn’t know whether to define her stupid or brave for that. Reckless, for sure. Rather impressed, he granted himself a moment to observe her. Dark strands of hair had escaped her long braid, and her nose and cheeks had a tinge of red due to the cold. She hadn’t even bothered wearing a coat. She wasn’t exactly in the position to make threats, and yet she had held her own with one of his scariest men. She was quite something. The young woman wavered for an instant, then she straightened her back and raised her chin.

“I’d like my cat back.”

Tommy’s eyes stared deep into Nina’s, and she held his gaze with fiery determination. Noting she wouldn’t look away first, he simply turned around, motioning for her to follow him. After a moment of hesitation, she did as he said.

It took Nina a few seconds to adjust to the dim light that filtered through the shutters of Shelby’s office. It was fairly big, furnished in dark wooden furniture, and it smelled like cigarettes, whiskey, and masculine cologne. His desk was scattered with papers and photographs, and a lit cigarette was still burning in an ashtray.

“There he is,” Tommy broke the silence, pointing to the dark fur ball curled up on one of the chairs.

Nina exhaled a sigh of relief, her heart finally finding some peace now that she knew for sure that her cat was safe. He was used to the peace of the Sicilian countryside, after all, and she wasn’t sure he’d survive the danger of the city. Winston raised his little head to look at her, but didn’t move from his comfortable spot. Traitor. He even meowed in protest when she went to grab him.

“Shut up,” she hissed.

Tommy Shelby, for his part, was looking at the scene with the shadow of a grin on his face. She was entertaining, that was sure. While she battled with the beast, he poured himself a glass of whiskey. “Want something to drink?”

“I’m only here for the cat.”

“Right,” he nodded, watching as she finally managed to pick up the cat. She snorted, pushing a rebellious strand of her behind her ear.

With Winston tucked under her arm, Nina raised her gaze on Thomas. She couldn’t just go away without saying anything, right? He could’ve thrown the animal in the streets and leave him to his fate, after all. As if sensing she wanted to tell him something, Tommy patiently waited, but that only made the task of searching for something appropriate to say more difficult.

“Thank you.”

That was all. Nice and simple. Then she turned around and made her way towards the exit. But just as she was about to leave, a doubt arose in Nina’s mind, one she couldn’t help but voice. She stopped in her tracks, turning to look at him again. “How did you know what room I’m staying in anyway?”

“Ah,” Tommy scoffed, his lips curving in a smirk. “I own this city, sweetheart.”

“Scudboat,” Tommy called once Nina was out on the streets, catching the man’s attention. “Keep an eye on the girl, make sure she gets to the hotel safe. Can’t trust Birmingham.”

“Yes, sir,” the Blinder nodded, immediately going to obey the order.

“Oi,” Tommy called again, making him turn around. “Keep low and keep your distance, cause if she won’t kill you, her family will,” he warned him. “And you wouldn’t like the Italian way.”

Heart, Body and Soul taglist

@zablife @queenofshinigamis @raincoffeeandfandoms / @justrainandcoffee @call-sign-shark

@kmc1989 @babayaga67 @kmhappybunny240 @diorrfairy @mariaelizabeth21-blog1

@gaslysainz @brummiereader @loverhymeswith @fairypitou @prettywhenicry4

@mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @woofgocows @girlwith-thepearlearring @goblinjnr @outlanderuniverse

@citylights31 @neonpurplestars89-blog @red-riding-wood @evita-shelby

General tag list:

@iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella @caelys

@lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24 @kmc1989

@call-sign-shark @jomarch-wannabe @ce1iat

@red-riding-wood @optimisticsandwichgladiator

Tommy Shelby taglist:

@50svibes

[anonymooseforever007]

Romantic Capture? (Pt 2. Romantic Escape)

(Tommy Shelby X female reader)

Summery: Y/N's successfully managed to con her way to her husband's car keys. Now she's free to have the fun she's been missing for the past week. But with an unexpected call from Polly, will her plans actually go to plan? Part two of Romantic Escape!

A/N: Hi y'all! No TW's for this (Tommy does get accidentally scuffed up tho) but I do think Tommy may be a bit OOC because this part has him talking about his feelings to the reader and I'm honestly not too sure how to write that, so idk if I did it well, but I tried! I kinda see him as someone who doesn't like admitting his fears and mistakes so when he actually does he's unsure of what to say as opposed to his usual suave self and tried writing it like that. So it's definitely got a bit of a different tone than the last one but it's still got good fun bits! I hope y'all enjoy!❤️

WC- 2.9k

Main Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The phone in Tommy's office rang.

"Polly? That you? I just started those papers you wanted, was there something else?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You giggled to yourself as you internally relived about your grand success, checking your mirrors one last time before getting ready to drive off. Silently, you thanked your husband for filling up the gas tank on his way back today.

It took months for most people to even try coming up with a plan to win one over THE Thomas Shelby. Keyword try. But you'd managed a successful caper in under an hour. And to top it off, if everything went as planned you'd have some fun with your "poor victim" when you returned. Maybe you should try this thing more often. You had been trying to convince him to let you redo the washroom for a while now. You thought the space would look just lovely with a new coat of paint and padded benches for you and the maids to sit on while talking and folding clothes. Or the garage. There was an empty space there you would have loved to turn into a workshop for the gardener and handyman. It was perfect for tools and lunch. OOH! Or maybe you could finally get the rolling ladder you'd wanted in the library, since you'd first moved in! You always wanted one as a kid! Yes, you would definitely have to try this thing again, especially if it went so smoothly the first time!

But that was for another day. If you left right now you'd make it in time to find good seats. Had this been a film, it would be the part where the captive finally gets out of their cell and starts joyously yelling "I'm free! I'm free I'm fr..."

A hand shot through the window and grabbed the steering wheel. Screaming, you did the first thing that came to your mind. Reaching out the window to grab the collar of your attacker, you yanked them forwards as hard as you could, while simultaneously stepping on the gas. You heard a head hit the car's roof as it made contact with the shiny metal.

"FUCK!"

Wait.

 You knew that voice. And the tie wrapped between you fingers....

Oh no.

"Tommy? What the hell are you doing?" You questioned, quickly letting go of him and looking down at you husband who was cradling an injured nose and making sure his toes weren't broken from you almost running them over.

"What the hell am I doing, eh!? What the bloody fuck are you doing," he exclaimed as he got to his feet, using the side of the car to stabilise himself so he wouldn't stumble. He didn't know if he should be frustrated or proud of what you'd just done. On one hand he was happy to know you wouldn't freeze up when surprised if someone came out of nowhere. But on the other hand....that fucking hurt. He could already feel the headache forming and it took a solid minute for his vision to clear. The car was still running and once again your husband reached through the window, trying to grab the keys from the ignition. 

"No," you smacked his hand away from the keys, gently but firmly. Tommy gave you a confused look and tried again.

"No. Tommy, no. Leave it. No. Thomas no." accompanied by another few gentle smacks until he pulled his hand back. You used one hand to guard the keys while the other remained slightly lofted, ready to bat again if needed. Tommy looked at you perplexed. In a manner only you could accomplish, he was left with absolutely no idea what was going on. 

"What do you mean 'no'? What are you doing, I thought you were going upstairs eh? And Polly called said there were never any papers she needed," he'd questioned. If it was anyone else aside from you he'd probably be very angry by now. Because you'd lied to him, and Thomas Shelby didn't like being lied to. You also nearly ran him over, but it wasn't a first for that and he was honestly more annoyed at being lied to. That wasn't something he took lightly.

Especially when the lies involved stealing his car. But this wasn't anyone else. This was you. You looked at him for a moment before sighing and turning off the car, but remained in the drivers seat. Well, if you couldn't get out through trickery maybe the truth would work. And a little guilt tripping possibly?

"I'm taking the car out," you replied. "I wanted to go to the movies with Lizzie and maybe have a few drinks after. I haven't been out all week and my head feels fine. It's felt fine since the third day, but even then no one let me do anything. None of my friends or anyone else was able to come over either so I've been stuck all week and I'm bored and it's been getting lonely too." You looked at you husband whose face had softened and continued, "So I called up Lizzie and I've got to meet her in half an hour if we want to get good seats. And Thomas I love you, but I am doing this. I know you're on edge because of what happened a few months ago, but I promise I'm all good now. You aren't able to control every little thing that happens to me. I'll get hurt sometimes and so will you, and that's just life. You can't make me live in a bubble after every little bump and bruise." 

Reaching one hand out the car window you gently grabbed your husband's chin and ran a finger over his cheek, where an increasingly red mark had begun to form. Thank Heavens, for once he hadn't had a cigarette in his mouth when you'd yanked him. He's probably have a burn on his face too. You really didn't intend to hurt him, thinking it was someone else trying to grab you. 

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I thought you'd make another fuss if I told you and I really didn't want to argue again. I know you care about me but you have to understand Thomas, I'm a grown woman and can make my own choices about then I feel better. It's the same thing you do when you decide to go back to work after being shot or beat up. When we got married we promised to go though life together. And together means side by side, equal steps. It doesn't mean one gets to drag the other along choosing each path alright," Caressing his cheek one last time, you sighed and moved to exit the car. You were still going out of course, but you wanted to take a quick look at Tommy's face in the house where the light was brighter before you left. You knew you'd be distracted and feel slightly guilty all night, not knowing how much damage your unintentional attack truly caused. 

But before your hand made it to the car door, it was Tommy who gently knocked your hand away this time. He placed you hand gently on the steering wheel, holding it there, while he closed his eyes for a moment and thought. Then he released you hand, before making his way around the front of the car and moving into the passenger seat. For a few moments the car was silent before Tommy grabbed you hand again and turned slightly so he could face you better. 

"Love... Don't feel sorry for what you did, it's not your fault. You weren't... wrong," Tommy started, slightly unsure what to say. He knew the words you had said were right, but he didn't know what to say next. Tommy never was to good at expressing his emotions, especially the strongest ones like love and pride and fear; and he was feeling all of those right now. But since meeting you he'd gotten a little better. At least it got easier to try. And that's what he did now, sitting besides you in the car while the last rays of the sun's light left the horizon for the day. "I don't want you to feel like I'm trying to control your or our life together. I'm not. I just want you to be safe. I don't know what I'd do without you," he continued, trying to remember what you'd told him one day about how he didn't have to be charming or precise when telling you his feelings. You told him they could be as messy and unorganized as he could manage if it meant he was telling you the truth. As long as he trusted you enough to try and let it out you'd be more than happy to listen. He knew you'd never fault him for telling the truth even if you'd still scold him for hiding it. 

"The truth is... the truth is that the day you got hurt something else happened. I got a call from a man telling demanding I sign over half the company or else he'd make you pay for me," Tommy paused for a moment trying to press down his anger at the man, "I wasn't worried at first, figured he was just making empty threats. Didn't think anyone was stupid enough to touch you. Then Francis called about your fall and even then I didn't think much about him, I was only worried you were alright. But then, later that night after I saw you, I was looking at the mail. This fucker also sent a letter to the house with the same fucking demand and I didn't see it until then. There was a photo in it too. It was you and your friends sitting in that restaurant you're so fond of. The one where we always get Finn's birthday cake? I don't know how he got that photo," Tommy stressed running a hand through his hair. He knew the man was dead, but it still made his skin crawl thinking of what he could have done. "I don't know what it was, but that photo and you being hurt... it scared me. I don't want to lose you. So since you were already hurt, I used that as an excuse to keep you at the house yeah? The maids really were to make sure you rested your head, but the cars were so I could try and keep you at the house where it was safer. I even had more men posted around the premises during the day." Tommy took a breath gently rubbing his thumb over your hand. He wasn't use to talking this much, even with you. But seeing as you didn't pull back, maybe he hadn't said the wrong thing yet. "But he's gone now, I got word he was taken care of today and he won't hurt you... No one will hurt you. So we don't have to worry about him. I was going to tell you today, I promise I was. But I'm ...I'm sorry Love. I didn't tell you the truth earlier and you got lonely... I should have found a way for your friends to come here or asked you to drive around with one of me men but I didn't yeah? And that.... that may not have been the best plan but it was the only one I could think of to keep you safe. Because you are the most important thing in the world to me Love and I don't know what I'd do if you got hurt because of me."

Tommy had finished now. He wasn't sure what else to say. He'd lied to you and he knew you hated that. But in his mind it was for a good cause. He didn't want to burden or stress you with problems created because of him. So he'd hid the truth until he couldn't anymore and after admitting his secrets he was left without a script. Most men would promise it wouldn't happen again, but Tommy couldn't do that. He knew that if you were ever threatened like that again he wouldn't hesitated to hide you away where he knew it was safe, even if you were mad at him for it. And you knew it too. So he wouldn't by make a promise he wouldn't hesitate to break. Not today anyway. 

The car was silent for a few moments and Tommy wasn't looking at you anymore. He did that sometimes after admitting something to you. Like he was scared to look into your eyes, and see that you didn't like what he said. And honestly, sometimes you didn't. Sometimes you wished your husband never told you the things he'd done that day or whose blood you were washing off his hands in the middle of the night. But most times like tonight, when he'd finally look up he'd see the same love he saw the day he married you and many days before that. You gently took his face in you hands and guided him to look at you again.

"Tommy, I can't say I'm not mad you didn't tell me the truth sooner, but I'm glad you did now," you started, "I'm alright and so are you and no one is going to hurt us. I get why you wanted to hide it from me, I don't always want to tell you what's scaring me either." Tommy averted his eyes and scoffed briefly at the implication of being scared. Yes, it was true but he still didn't like admitting it. "But I'm glad you told me now, yeah? It's better to get it out eventually than hold it in forever. So I wish you'd told me sooner but for now I'm glad you did. And thank you for apologizing, I forgive you... but I just ask next time someone's threatening ME, that I be the first one you tell yeah? Who knows maybe I can think of a better plan to get rid of him than you huh?"

Tommy closed his eyes briefly, leaning to rest his head on your shoulder. Talking had allowed a weight to lift from his shoulders. Not just because he knew the man was gone, but because he'd finally told you the truth. And apparently, it wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. Yes, he knew you'd still probably lecture him slightly for lying more later, but for now he was just happy for you to know the truth. 

"Yeah Love, that I can try to do. Fuck, I can try."

Your fingers pulled the back of his hair lightly as you raised an eyebrow at him.

"'Try,' Thomas?"

A small huff of laughter came from his mouth as he pulled back to look at you again. Now that you'd both told the truth there was a lightness there, which hadn't been present all week.

"Promise, I promise you'll be the first to know if any rat bastard ever thinks of threatening you again eh?"

"That sounds more like it, my dear darling."

This time it was your turn to rest your head on his shoulder for a few moments as silence once more overtook the car. When you looked up again, you moved to gently kissed your husband on his still reddened cheek. As you went to do it a second time he turned his head, allowing your lips to connect with his as he returned the kiss gently. It took a few seconds before he tried deepening it again, and his hands had just reached the hem of your skirt when he was once again stopped. Panting slightly you resting your forehead against his, slightly brushing the loose strands on the back of his neck. He let out a soft groan at that. He loved the way your fingers felt playing with his hair like that, especially if it was late at night when you were both in bed after a long day.

"Tommy?"

"Yeah Love?"

"I still am meeting Lizzie tonight. If I stay at this house for one more minute I may actually set something on fire," you finished, readjusting your skirt and turning the car on again. If you left now you'd still just barely make it. "Like I may actually give Alfie Solomons a run for his money with the fight I'm going to put up if I don't get out within the next five minutes. Or I may pay him to do it for me, the lovely man. He use to be a boxer you know. "

Tommy rolled his eyes at the Alfie comment before smirking and leaning back in his seat, putting one arm around the back of yours, "Alright then Love let's get going."

You laughed, pushing his arm back and turned to him, "Oh, no chance in hell you're coming with me. I may forgive you for lying to me, but you're still not out of the dog house yet. Besides, this is a night for ME and Lizzie. Not me, Lizzie, and YOU."

"Come on Love. I'm sure Lizzie wouldn't mind. After all, it still could be dangerous out there. It is getting dark after all."

"Well then it's a pretty good think I can protect myself isn't it? Remember the gun Esme got me for Christmas? And so can Lizzie. You aren't the only one with tricks up your sleeve. So you. Hop out of the car before I'm forced to make you and," You leaned closer, "how about you spend the time I'm gone planning another apology eh?"

Tommy let out a huff of laughter, but complied. He walked around the front of the car again before leaning down to the still open window. 

"Another apology eh? I thought you'd already taken the first one."

"Of course, but you still have to make up for earlier to remember? After all, I won't be out with Lizzie all night and you did say you'd stay in your office until 10:30. That's something else to make up for isn't it? You didn't even give me time to start a bath to hide, cheater," you teased lightly as you played with Tommy's tie and his eyes light up like they had earlier when you'd sent him to the office.

"Oh that's the kinda apology you want isn't it? I can manage that. I can manage that very well Love. How about this time I hide for you to find me? Change up our little game eh?" Tommy kissed your hand teasingly before finally stepping back to let you leave. "Though I did help Curly clean the horses earlier at Charlie's yard, and that was a bit messy" Tommy restated your words earlier, "So when you're done why don't you start by looking in places one can get a little less...dirty eh? Maybe the bath will still be warm...."

[leafydinosaur]

thomas vs teresa

i will never EVER understand why people side with teresa. "but her mom died-" yeah and like everyone else on earth during that time. every single person during the flare lost someone so idk why people feel bad for her (also before people say anything about her before wicked and her true story and stuff, i read all the books including fever code and kill order so i know everything about her story, thanks.) yeah okay her story is sad but that doesn't mean she's necessarily good. i understand that she's trying to do the "right" thing, and i respect that, but she's literally stupid. wicked's operation is stupid. anyone with more than two brain cells can understand that. instead of spending like a billion dollars on trying to find a cure, wicked should focus on protecting the immune kids instead of torturing and killing them. firstly, wicked found a cure like 15 years too late. basically everyone was dead by then. but let's say that wicked found a cure in the few months of the flare. how would it be transmitted? the flare was artificially made, transmitted by bullets. there would not be enough of the cure for all of the infected. the cure cannot be artificially created (this is stated in scorch trials book and movie) thomas is the only person who can make the cure, but his body cannot produce blood fast enough for everyone on the planet. by this time, wicked should've already realized that finding a cure was a lost cause and should try to save as many immune people as possible. instead of building a multi-million dollar death maze, they should've started creating a safe haven (like the one in the end of death cure.) fortunately, ava paige and jansen aren't complete boneheads, but they built the last city in a very very bad location. you could assume that with the modern technology that wicked has (considering the fact that they literally created teleportation) they would be able to start a new civilization on mars or something. but let's say they couldn't. instead of having the location of the last city public, it should've been built on an island, in the middle of absolutely nowhere. (to prevent angry raiders that aren't immune or newly infected to raiding it or something. kinda like in death cure how they infiltrated the city and everything went to crap.) this would be a temporary location. wicked could send out an army to clear out, for example, iceland or another small country and slowly build their way up to bigger countries. they could build more and more bases and soon enough people would reproduce. the stronger wicked gets, the more cranks they'll be able to clear out with bigger armies. within 10 to 15 years, the world would be mostly clean and wicked would be able to slowly rebuild humanity. there you go. i just solved all of wicked's problems (your welcome ava and jansen, you could repay me with newt's number iykwim.) anyways, this is why i think wicked is stupid and why i don't support teresa (because she supports wicked and also she's the reason why a bunch of people died in the right arm and got newt killed so...) people are allowed to support and like whatever character but in MY opinion, teresa is really stupid or really selfish to sacrifice an entire group of people AND betray her friends to create a cure that will do absolutely nothing.

[inthepeakymidwinter]

Losing You (Thomas Shelby x Reader)

Summary: Thomas works together again with a long lost love.

Word Count: 961

TW: Alcohol

———————————————————————

Thomas Shelby invited me to the Garrison for a drink after work. I helped him sort through all of his balances and tax issues with his business. He was very appreciative and wanted to treat me to a drink after the past month we’ve shared since I came back to Small Heath. We were originally good family friends but my dad went into business and his went into an adventurous criminal career. Naturally, our families separated and Tommy and I didn’t reunite until I came back to Small Heath to start a new life away from my parents.

I walked into the Garrison alone in a black peacoat. It was raining and my hair got drenched. I spotted Thomas at the bar and tapped on his shoulder. He turned around, agitated from a random touch. I backed up and eased into talking to him. “It’s okay Thomas it’s just me” I softly smiled. He softened up and gave me a small hug.

“What can I get for you Y/N?” He insisted, pointing to the bars large selection.

“Irish whiskey” I ordered.

He looked at me strange. As if I’m not supposed to drink so heavily.

“Who caused that?” He asked.

“My dad had a large collection. I’d break in sometimes” I confessed.

“We have a lot to catch up on then” He smirked and called for the bartender to bring two glasses and a bottle of his best irish whiskey.

I followed Thomas to the small room in the front of the bar. We shuffled into the booth and sat across from each other. I waited as he poured us both a drink.

“I didn’t want to start off with this but…Y/N I’ve always loved you for a long time. I really thought we lost each other entirely until now” He admitted out of nowhere.

“How much did you drink before I got here Thomas” I blurted out.

There was no way. It was impossible.

“Enough to know. Enough to tell you” He looked at me with hazy eyes.

I took the small glass of whiskey and downed it. I looked back at Thomas and then back down at his glass. I downed that one too. He saw me nearly die after the second glass but I didn’t care. I had to come to the realization that his words were true. He wasn’t playing games with me like he did when he was young. He was looking at me clear as day and somehow I had to match it.

“Thomas…you didn’t want to celebrate business did you?” I asked him.

He scoffed at my question. “How on earth can I celebrate when you have no use for me anymore. I have nothing in my business left to fix. Your contract is up Y/N. You’re gone from Shelby Company LTD” He sighed and poured a drink for himself. Looking more sad than I have ever seen him.

“I moved to Small Heath to start over. Not to leave” I spoke softly to him and reached out for his hands across the table. He accepted my hands and we both held each other. “I’m not leaving you Thomas” I told him with a smile.

“Well then..we better start drinking” He poured a glass for both of us and we clinked our glasses before taking shots.

After being incredibly drunk out of our minds and reminiscing of our childhood we decided it was time to walk home. We held onto each other for support and because of how comfortable it finally felt to be in each others arms. Thomas was my teenage crush. He was my everything. I know the war changed him, but by the time he came back I was already half a world away and I felt like I lost him forever.

He walked me to my small apartment and I crashed my lips onto his. “So…I need you to spend the night” I insisted. His face lit up and he nodded quietly. I unlocked my front door and dragged him in with me. I closed and locked the door behind us and took my jacket off. “Do you want some tea?” I asked him.

“You have more liquor?” He asked instead.

I laughed, “You need more Mr.Shelby?”

“I just never thought I’d be standing alone with you before” He gazed at me like he’s never seen anyone else in his life. Like I was the only woman in the world. I didn’t know how to react, so instead I went into my kitchen and fetched another bottle of whiskey for him.

I took a shot from the bottle and then passed the bottle to him. “I never thought you’ve seen me like that” I sighed.

“I saw you from the first time you walked into my life Y/N” He told me before taking a swig from the bottle himself.

“Come with me” I held out my hand and he grasped it gently. I walked him to my bedroom and sat down on my bed, kicking off my shoes and untying my hair from its tight bun.

“Do you wanna make up for the years I’ve been gone?” I asked him.

He grinned and took of his jacket, dropping it messily to the floor. Thomas moved closer towards me. Pinning me down onto the bed with each arm on either side of my body. “I’m going to make so much up to you every single day you’re with me” He promised.

Thomas leaned lower and pressed his lips against mine. Softly biting my lower lip and then releasing his hold to look back at me. “I wont lose you a second time” He whispered.

“Damn right Thomas Shelby” I smirked and pulled him back down with my right hand to kiss him again.

[beauty-and-passion]

it feels like SS become just a parody on itself. At first I was kinda frustrated with some particular moments and decisions that was made, but y’know it’s just make me giggle. I not a part of fandom for more than a year, but every time when I accidentally come across hashtags about it it’s kinda sad. Not the fan content tho

I understand your feelings and I feel the same. There are a lot of decisions Mr. Sanders made (and still makes) that are very weird, if not downright questionable. And I’m strictly talking about the Sanders Sides series itself, because:

a) he’s free to do anything he wants with his life and his other projects

b) I don’t want to talk about how manipulative and childish he acts, every time someone dares mention Sanders Sides to him

I believethe main reason why the series looks so shallow and stupid now is that there is still no outline nowhere to be seen. I know I am a broken record because I said it 200 times already, but it’s not my fault if the outline is the essential piece of a story: you just need an outline, period. It doesn’t matter if we’re talking about a novel, a movie, a comic or whatever: every story needs a project and the project should be planned in advance. So your characters won't become the parody of themselves and you won't lose the story along the way.

If Mr. Sanders planned the entire story in advance, he would know how long season 3 would be, how every character would change and grow, what threads would be closed and how and what the finale would be. But try asking him any of these questions now: he has no clue. And it’s pretty clear he has no clue. Because if he had any clue, he would’ve finished the season 2 finale two years ago.

Now, I know what you might say: writing takes a long time. Sure, but also no. Planning, researching and writing the outline takes a long time. Writing the story itself doesn’t have to take long. If writing the story takes too long, then there’s a problem. Maybe because there’s something wrong in the outline, maybe because the writing style isn’t good, maybe just because the author doesn’t love the story anymore. But there is a reason.

In Thomas’ case, the reason is probably a mix of all these things: he never planned in advance, the story became too difficult for him to handle and he consequently lost his passion for it. That’s absolutely normal and fine: everyone can lose their passion for a story and everyone is free to move on.

What is not fine is not admitting it and pretending everything is okay. Because the recent Aside is proof of how things are not as fine and dandy as Thomas hopes people think.

[part-time-zombie]

Out Of Sight

pairings: none

summary: logan decides some spring cleaning is in order, and he hopes that clearing out his room will be just what he needs to get back on track.

tags/warnings: logan centric, literally he's the only character in this, angst, hurt no comfort, kind of an unhappy ending, logan is not doing as well as he says he is, this is basically a vent fic sorry

word count: 1366

Logan liked to keep things organized. It was good to keep everything in a system so you could always find what you needed quickly without having to sift through a cluttered mess first. Everything had its place, and if there was no space left for something then there was no point in letting it take up room where it could distract you from what was important.

He needed to go through his things and sort out all the stuff that didn’t serve him anymore, the things he no longer needed to hold on to. He had his notebooks and journals, all filled with valuable information and entries regarding Thomas and the sides, and the problems they faced and how they solved them. No, he couldn’t get rid of those. He sorted them and stacked them neatly in a drawer, not letting them take up any space on his bookshelf. The bookshelf in question currently housed a myriad of textbooks and encyclopedias, all of which have proved to be helpful or would undoubtedly be useful later. He kept those, though he significantly downsized on his fiction novels. He had already read most of them and he didn’t need them to further distract from his studies, from his job. He needed to be productive, first and foremost.

That was what this was all about, ultimately. He needed to make his room more organized and efficient so he could better focus on his work. It was clear that his current level of capability wasn’t enough for Thomas and that he wasn’t fulfilling his role as well as he ought to. It was only fair to assume that if he stopped letting himself get preoccupied with foolish hobbies and focused entirely on his commitment to Thomas’ productivity, then maybe he would finally be listened to. He could be respected again if he was better equipped to fulfill his role as logic.

He certainly needed to work on that. Logic was infallible, it was absolute. Logic spared no room for complications like sentiment or emotion. Logic isn’t designed to feel, only to know. The problem came from the unfortunate fact that Logan could still feel. He didn’t want to admit it, not even to himself, but he could still feel all the same. He felt anger, sadness, fear, disappointment, excitement, happiness. All of those feelings were nothing more than distractions. Things to sort out and filter through to make room for efficiency. He had no space for them.

Logan knew he couldn’t just snap his fingers and wish away his feelings in an instant. That would be too easy, and nothing was ever kind enough to be easy for him. He couldn’t just get rid of his feelings out of nowhere, but he could get rid of the reminders of those feelings. It was a good enough start anyway, and he planned on boxing those reminders away.

He grabbed his unicorn onesie, holding it close and relishing its soft comfort. It made him feel warm and held in a way none of the other sides did, and it helped him relax after a particularly rough event. He almost thought about keeping it, at least for the purpose of de-stressing at the end of a long day. Then the memory of when Thomas and Patton caught him wearing it came to mind. The shame he felt as Thomas chastised him for indulging in something so childish and Patton mocked him for being so immature still burned a hole in his chest. No, it was just another juvenile toy he needed to outgrow and get rid of. He folded it neatly and put it in the box.

The screenplay Roman had written for him was next. Four hundred pages of intrigue and excitement, all catering to Logan's tastes in storytelling and characterization. It was one of his favorite things to read, when he had the chance. He had reread it plenty of times, committing the mystery to memory by now. The interest and enthusiasm he felt when Roman first gifted it to him lingered even now, a reminder of the one time Roman cared about him. With that knowledge came memories of the numerous other times Roman had interrupted and disregarded him, and the pain and anger he had felt every time. He didn’t need to feel that anymore; it didn’t matter if he was hurting, anyway. All that mattered was that he was useful. The screenplay followed the onesie.

He looked over at his desk, eyeing the Crofters jar he had emptied and cleaned to hold his stationery. It was the first jar of loganberry jam Thomas had given him, the one that filled him with such exuberant delight that he couldn’t help but burst into song. And maybe a few puns. He was never going to live that down now, how immature he had acted in front of the others. How on earth would anyone possibly take him seriously after that? He was a joke now, to the others and to Thomas. He replaced the jar with a proper pencil case before securing it in the box.

Virgil's newspaper was placed on the other side of the desk, folded under a Rubik's cube. Logan had managed to solve all of the puzzles, though it was far more difficult than he had originally expected. Virgil really had outdone himself with how challenging some of the riddles were. Logan couldn’t help but smile at the memory of him decoding the last secret message well into the night, forgoing sleep in favor of the satisfying rush of discovery. In hindsight, he really shouldn’t have done that. He needed to be well rested and focus on his work instead of a silly puzzle. He had tried to prioritize Thomas’ gift to Nico over the puzzle first, but his mind kept wandering back to those simple circled letters and the surprise they had in store for him. His interests were nothing more than a distraction, one he needed to filter out of his life if he was ever going to be taken seriously.

He grabbed the newspaper from the desk and something fell to the floor with a clatter. He picked it up, examining the trinket he had discovered at the end of the puzzle trail Virgil laid out for him. It was a small charm of an image of the Milky Way, roughly half an inch in diameter. It would have looked nice on a keychain or as jewelry. He was honestly very touched by the gift, and had planned on finding a good use for it so he could make the most of it. No ideas came to mind that were good enough, not even now. He put it in the box next to the newspaper.

It was getting easier to box things away. His Sherlock outfit, the jacket he had used for his Halloween costume, his cogitating cap, his old necktie from the earlier videos, even his favorite book. Each item was a reminder of an interest, passion, or hobby that did nothing other than distract him and make him look foolish. They all robbed him of respect and reception, the two things he needed most to win Thomas’ attention. All of them were now placed in the box, ready to be stored somewhere far away from Logan's room and his work.

He looked around the now much emptier space with a satisfied sigh. Now that there was nothing left to distract him or bring up old memories, he would surely be far more productive and successful. Thomas was bound to listen to him now, and maybe the others would too. He wasn’t hoping for any miracles, but it was a good start in the right direction. He sank down into the Mind Palace, a place forgotten by most of the others, and tucked the now full and sealed box away into a dark and quiet corner, where no one would bother to look for it. It could be forgotten and out of the way here, and Logan could be the best version of himself without sentiment or emotion.

Logan gave the box one last fleeting glance before returning to work, distraction free.

@britt-ish123 @nico-the-overlord @rougeside4 @new-zee-land @lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie @can-i-take-a-stab @keitaisghost

[lace-coffin]

Thomas hewitt with mommy kink 🥺👉👈

Or/and some tiddy sucking 🧏🏼‍♀️☺️

Thomas Hewitt with a mommy kink x afab!Reader (nsfw)

You really should have seen this coming, considering the non existent relationship between Tommy and his birth mother. In your defence you had more important things to be considering when stranded in the middle-of- fucking-nowhere Texas. Thankfully a handsome tree of a man and his uncle found you and towed your car back to the run down family owned gas station down the road. You weren’t sure if now being deeper into the town was a blessing or a curse…no time to dwell on that now. Atleast you were in civilisation…..kinda?

Cut to a few months later and things had evolved from there, car in need of more than a few major fixes. As Hoyt, you’d come to find his name was, put it, “your lucky that shit can didn’t blow up on you 50 miles back” go figure. With no place to stay whilst your car was out of commission you ended up staying in the Hewitt house. A few days turned into a week, a week turning into ‘staying a few extra days to help around the house, to pay your debt back’ your bond with Tommy and his family developed deeper and your now up to scratch car gathered more dust outside. The whole ‘how I found out my emotionally repressed boyfriend kills and eats people’ story happened is for another day.

In the present day you lay spread lazily across the double bed you share, book in hand and eyes beginning to become unfocused from fatigue. Maybe it’s time to put the book away. Just before you can finish that thought, Tommy stomps in, making quick work of his boots and kicking them towards the door. The bed dips from his weight as he slumps down onto it.

“Hard day, big guy?” You question, setting the book aside on pushing yourself into a sitting position by his side. You only receive a grunt for confirmation.

“Hoyt been busting your ass?”

A longer exhausted groan comes from behind his hands. Ah, it’s one of those days. Thankfully you have a way to help with a 90% success rate, even if he doesn’t feel up to it you can offer a warm bath and a cuddle.

Shuffling closer to Tommy you gently slide your hands under his head, raising it to meet your gaze in the process.

“Do you need some pampering time baby? A little time with mama?” You coo, lazily drawing patterns over the leather half mask adorning your partners face.

You can tell by the way the larger man’s eyes seem to almost mist over and get more distant that it’s a yes, already falling into the headspace and wanting to let go. Tapping his cheek to get his attention you speak again.

“I’m going to need clear consent baby, are you sure you want this? If not we can try something else ok? I won’t be angry or disappointed”

Eyes shifting back to focus on you Tommy signs an “I’m sure” and waits for you to take the lead.

“Good job honey”

Pulling the pair of you down onto the bed you position yourself so Tommy is resting his face onto your chest, feeling the way it rises and falls with each breath. For now you just lay there in eachothers comfortable presence, whispering sweet nothings and praises into his long unruly hair. It’s peaceful and sweet while it lasts but you know Tommy never lasts long before getting wound up like this. Sure enough your hand not so subtly finds its way to his crotch, battered work trousers tenting in the front.

“Are you all pent up down here baby? You need mommie to take care of it?” You ask in a sickly sweet manor, it’s a rhetorical question, you know how bad he wants this, wants you. Tommy lets out a shudder and a muted groan, bucking into your warm hands.

“How about this, I take care of you and you take care of mommie ok?”

His head raises, looking you in the face as if it will answer what you’re implying, almost looking like a big lap dog with his head sat on your chest like that. His questions are answered as you start to unbutton your shirt, revealing your naked chest to his hungry eyes. Giggling at his reaction you lean to take Tommy out of his trousers, eliciting a gasp from him as it’s exposed to the air.

“Be a good boy and suck on mommies tits will you? I’ll treat you right if you can be a good boy for me and keep your hands to yourself”

Wasting no time at all Tommy dives into your chest, cupping both breasts in his calloused hands. You let a small sigh escape, practically melting into his palms as he begins to lay kisses onto the meat of your tits, teasingly avoiding the nipple, keeping you on edge and waiting.

Tugging his hair you hiss out after a particularly hard suck.

“Stop being a brat and get to it, you do want to be touched, don’t you?”

Groaning at the delicious sting in his scalp he nods fervently, plump lips finally latching onto your sensitive nipples.

“Shit..hah..perfect, just like that baby”

As a reward for his efforts you finally bring your hand back to his cock, slowly working it over in languid strokes, not slow enough to tease but not fast enough to let him cum so soon, you aren’t that kind.

With a last nip to your right breast he finally switches to the other, giving the now lonely one an equal amount of attention with his large hands. The way he moves his tongue should be illegal, it’s sloppy and dirty, laving over your abused nipples like a man starved.

Arching your chest into his mouth you speed up your ministrations, you can tell by the way his breath is beginning to hitch and his hips twitching that he’s close. Paying extra attention to the spot under the head you decide he deserves his reward. Pulling your hand away you pat him on the flank to gain his attention that’s currently focused on your panting chest.

“You’ve done such a good job making mommie feel good baby, how about you come up here and get your reward?” You giggle devilishly, patting your chest and tugging Tommy a little to encourage him to perch himself on your chest. You bite your lip as his thick cock slaps onto your chest, leaving a smear of precum to run into the valley between them.

It doesn’t take long at all after Tommy begins to fuck your tits, If he was barely holding on before then he definitely isn’t now. The noise his cock makes between your slick tits is disgustingly lewd and only spurs him on further. Before he knows it he’s on the edge, a quick “please?” is Clumsily signed out in desperation. He’s so cute still asking permission even like this, such a good boy.

“Are you gonna cum for me baby? Gonna mark me up and get me all dirty? Go ahead, you’ve earned it for being such a sweet little thing” you coo, encouraging him into his orgasm. With one final pathetic whine his cock twitches and paints your tits in warm cum, thick spurts dripping down the sides or pooling into the centre.

With few final weak thrusts, Tommy effectively collapses onto your now sticky chest, it should gross you out to have the quickly cooling cum pressed between the two of you but you’re both too blissed out to really give a fuck. Sitting in quiet again you run your hands through his hair, easing over his scalp that you abused earlier as an apology. As much as you want to stay like this forever you both need to get cleaned up before it becomes annoying.

Patting Tommy’s back you speak up again.

“Ready for that bath handsome?”

You get another tired grunt and a thumbs up from your boyfriends face down fucked out form. Stifling a laugh you continue.

“If you’re quick I might let you return the favour…”

Suddenly he’s up and into the bathroom, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him move that quick.

[mechalily]

fir branches, tied with red cord.

hello everyone! this writing is a secret santa present for precious @lovely-rubeum, who's works are a must-read for Thoma fans.

(🍂) tags: fluff (flashbacks), angst (currently), small age gap (2 years), fem!reader.

(⭐) spoiler tags: abandoment.

„ ♪ Last Christmas I gave you my heart, but you gave it away the very next day..“ New Year songs could've been heard everywhere. Layers of snowy crystals covered roofs and columns, fences and street lamps, making the light fuzzy. It's been six months since you left your homeland and went to university in another city. Yes, unlike your quiet little town with no kind of gaities and very few inhabitants who all knew each other, the city had much more to offer: wild parties every night, tons of cafes and restaurants, huge 20-floor shopping centers and different varieties of professional paths to follow. But your heart belonged to the calm peace of the town, soft sunbeams in the mornings, endless pinkish sky with plum-colored fluffy clouds — such dear memories were engraved in your soul. And, of course, your constant source of warmth whenever loneliness of an outsider hit you too hard was your childhood friendship with Thoma.

Thoma, who's hair reminded you of straws, who's green eyes shined brightly, who's genuine smile painted your cheeks with a prominent blush. Although you never communicated since he moved, reminiscence of your innocent tender bonds was still precious to you. 

"Does he even remember me?" you wondered at times, looking up at the sky, gazing upon stars, so close yet so far, just like Thoma himself.

You were 7, he was 9. He was a "big boy" with responsibilities much bigger than yours. His family wasn't very financially stable: the father went missing two years ago, the mother worked two jobs so she appeared at home just to sleep and to cook something for her son, who also worked hard everyday, mowing lawns and walking dogs in order to get some money.

Your family was totally opposite. Huge inheritance allowed your parents to live as they pleased, going on trips every year and spoiling their beloved daughter — you — with tons of clothes, toys and sweets. At times, when you acted capriciously, your mom scoldingly reminded you of poor Thoma.

"Honey, you shouldn't take everything for granted. You are living a very comfortable life, unlike some people who weren't born that lucky. Think of the neighbor’s boy! Only two years older yet already working. Behave and take an example"

You sobbed yet didn't start crying in rage like you always did. After all, mom was right. Sometimes, on snowy winter evenings, you could see Thoma from your balcony. He cleared snow with a shovel twice his size. You never saw him playing with other kids or doing silly things natural for his age. Actually, he didn't have friends at all due to being constantly busy.

Christmas arrived, and your parents showered you with gifts on this occasion. Wearing new boots, cute hat and a coat, you went out into the yard to build a snowman. You saw a glimpse similar to a dark spot on a pure white snow. It turned out to be Thoma, dressed in some rags — the boy carried heavy packages, which was visibly difficult for him. 

"Lemme help ya," you volunteered out of nowhere, grabbing a package's strap. 

"You sure? It's heavy..." he hesitantly mumbled.

"I'm billion percent sure. Let's be friends!" you blurted out, steam curling out of your mouth. 

Thoma froze in place. It was the first time ever anyone suggested to befriend him. You two were breathing heavily, dragging bundle along the street in quietness. You started feeling worried due to him keeping silent, but suddenly cheery voice interrupted the hush:

"Sure, let's be friends! What's your name?" Thoma smiled widely, exposing teeth. 

You introduced yourself, and that was the day your life has entirely changed.

You were 11, he was 13. Even after enrolling into middle school and making friends with his peers Thoma still valued you the most. He picked you up after classes, treated to home-made meals, played games with you and helped when it came to studying. School wasn't easy for him. Working part-time and taking care of his mother in a hangover took all of his free time. Thoma expected you to dump him: after all, he was unable to go to cafes and amusement parks, buy you gifts and share candies. He couldn't endure your saddened face and pouty cheeks without heart ache whenever he told you he wouldn't have time to go play with you.

But what Thoma did not expect was you acting on the contrary. 

"Oh, you are such a good boy!" your mother giggled, patting his head. You invited him to a sleepover in your house every week, and he finally gained an opportunity to shower in warm water, eat a proper dinner and not some semi-finished products thrown in one plate, sleep for full 8 hours..Your parents were incredibly kind and caring, considerate yet never intrusive. Here, in your place, Thoma felt loved, loved unconditionally. You two enjoyed your cocoa with marshmallow, cooked slightly crooked gingerbread and decorated the Christmas Tree all together. 

“Who do you think you will be in the future, Thoma?” you asked one evening, when two of you were busy with baking a pie. 

“Uh, wait, wait a second! One last thing… Here,” he spread out dough strips, “closing” the pie. “Who will I be in the future, you said? Ha-ha, to be honest.. I don’t really know. I hope I’ll work with kids or manage domestic stuff, cuz I enjoy doing it,” he chuckled, fixing his apron. “Hey, you are all in flour! Give me a second, I’ll wipe it off,” the boy reached out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear and swiped the flour away. His touch sent shivers down your spine, as if you got hit with electricity. 

“And who do you think you’ll be?” Thoma questioned.

“Hm… I want to become a teacher one day. Or a doctor,” «or your significant other», you added mentally. 

“You are so hard-working, I’m sure you’ll succeed!” he smiled encouragely and patted you on the shoulder. 

You were 14, he was 16. From shy and ordinary guy Thoma became popular, quick-witted and got admired for his nice sunny personality. You, on the other hand, had grown up reserved and quiet. That, whatsoever, didn’t break your friendship. 

“Hey, pumpkin, forgetting your lunch box becomes a habit!” 

Of course you recognized this upbeat voice. Who else would’ve called you a pumpkin? 

When you turned your gaze up to your desk, there was a cute box in sight and widely smiling blond. 

“Aww, come on, Thoma, you didn’t have to!” you sighed dramatically, although internally you were screaming, feeling flattered from such solicitude. 

“I have to, because I care about your health, silly,” he gently ruffled your hair, avoiding ruining your hairstyle. “Let’s have a meal before lunch break ends, okay? I’ll stay here with you, no worries, we won’t go to the cafeteria,” he added immediately after noticing barely evident hints of your anxiety.

“...thanks, Thoma. Let’s see what you’ve prepared for me,” with that, you opened the box.. and your heart started pulsing like you have run a marathon.

Absolutely adorable salad with different vegetables, cut in some cute shapes. The dedication and efforts, invested in this dish, were obvious. You nearly teared up. No one has ever did something like that for you. 

“H-hey, is everything alright? You’ve turned pale…” Thoma asked in concerned tone.

“No, no, not at all! It’s just so sweet of you.. Thank you so much. I can’t make myself eat such masterpiece..”

“Hold on, kid! You need to eat, otherwise I might spoon feed you,” once in a while Thoma acted mischievously, and you couldn’t predict this behavior. He was never mean, of course, but teasing certainly had a place in moments like this. 

“And how about feeding me from mouth to mouth, huh?” you teased him back with a sly grin.

Thoma reddened: the color of his face was similar to the color of his jacket.

“Ah-ha-ha… You are quite naughty, aren’t you?” you could feel the heat emanating from his body. 

“And what if so?” you cheekily raised your eyebrow.

“I assume a kiss will be able to erase this smirk from your face,” the boy tried to get his composure back, but failed miserably, stumbling his words and awkwardly fidgeting.

“Try it, so we could discuss the truthfulness of your statement”

“Um… maybe next time, ha-ha…”

To Thoma’s luck, the bell rang, so he ran out of the classroom, leaving you alone and flustered.

“Don’t forget to eat, pumpkin!”

Since that day you two have never brought up this accident, even though having lunch with Thoma became a daily routine. 

You were 16, he was 18. He was embracing you tightly, despite the uncomfortable proximity under the boiling sun. 

“I’ll miss you, pumpkin,” he mumbled, and you could tell he was being honest — every wrinkle, every muscle of his face depicted the dreary sorrow of parting. Even though his 12 years old Nokia phone still worked, you heavily doubted it would function properly. Yet you still hoped for the best.

“Thoma, dear.. Please, call or text me as soon as possible. It’s dull without you,” tears flowed on their own, and you couldn’t help it.

Suddenly you sensed some soft sensation against your skin. There was no need to look up to understand what was it. You closed your eyes and indulged in bubbly pleasure.

Thoma was your first best friend.

Thoma was your first Valentine, though you both considered it to be a friendly one.

Thoma was the first person apart of your family to cook for you.

Everything important in your life was about him.

And now, he granted you your first kiss.

“I love you,” his green eyes watered just like yours. “When I graduate, I’ll come back for you. Do you agree?”, you grabbed his calloused hands and squeezed them.

“Yes. Yes, of course”

Two years have passed since then. There were no news from Thoma nor texts or calls. He simply disappeared from the world. Both of his parents rested in peace, and they didn’t have any relatives, so wondering about his fate was all you’ve got to do. Your messages never got delivered. 

“Sorry, the number you dialed does not exist,” you heard this voice line so many times it annoyed you to no end. You cried out of frustration, you felt numbness and anger, and finally, you accepted the entire situation. 

Maybe he dumped you.

Maybe something happened to him.

You won’t know until his studying finishes. 

Graduating from high school, passing exams, enrolling into university — you went through everything all by yourself with support from your parents.

Sipping coffee and sinking in your unhappy thoughts, you didn’t pay attention to any of the cafe visitors — after all, it was way too far from yor home, there was no chance to meet your countryman.

With the bell tickle, which announced the emergence of new client, loud fast speech could have been heard:

“Yoimiya, I’m so sorry! I left my place on time, it’s just that traffic accident with a mongrel dog occured, I had to take poor animal to the vet-”

This voice.

You stared upon the guest in disbelief. 

Blond hair. Red coat. Black bandana which looked like horns. Pitiful smile. Green eyes.

“Oh, dear God, Thoma! Is everything okay? Is the doggie alright?! Ugh, how could this be?..” fair-headed young lady came out of the stall and jumped forward the man.

“Wait,” he shook his head as if he was trying to get rid of weird delusions. But that was not a delusion. 

“Is this…” his voice lowered to husky whisper, eyes widened in shock.

“...Thoma?” you stood up on shaking legs.

[nessie-writes]

My Only Wish - Newt x Reader

a/n: This was made for a friend who adores newt way to much.

Warnings: Angst, Death, Suggestive Su!c!de.

You looked over towards the love of you life. You remembered the way his eyes always lit up like the stars once they met yours. Now that was something of the past, his eyes overtaken by pure fear and disappointment in himself.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

He sighed pulling his sleeve back down to his wrist. As much as you wanted to comfort him, you couldn't. He was going to die. And there's nothing you could do. Struggling to keep eye contact, you looked down to your feet. How much you wanted to scream. How much you wanted to swap positions with him. It had been so hard, everything had been hard. From the moment you woke up in the box, to this moment of pain and despair. No matter how much it hurt, he always comforted you. Either rubbing his thumb across your shaken hands or pulling your body into a warm hug. Yet when he needed you most, you froze. Looking away. Feeling so sorry for yourself. You blinked.

Back in your bed. Your breath had quickened, barely being able to catch it back. Trying to ignore all the horrendous images of your dead lover you counted to three as you inhaled followed by another three second exhale. Walking over to your mirror, you stared at the reflection. Was this really you? Did you deserve to be here more than him? As you lent back in annoyance, you felt the light metal tap against your chest. You forgot you were still wearing this. You put your hand over the tiny capsule, holding it as hard as you could. Hoping maybe if you had it secured enough, you'd wake up with Newt smiling by your side. You remembered the multiple times in the Maze when you would spend the night together, but not how you wish you did. Every time you looked over to his peaceful sleeping figure, it would get replaced with his dead one. Every thought and memory, ruined, infected by the scent of death.

As you fell back into your bed, you hear the voices of screaming. Though your tears and screams so much unbearably louder than the others. You closed your eyes to try to prevent your tears from over spilling. The begging and apologies falling from Newts mouth became clear as did your replies.

"Newt. It's okay, it's not your fault. "

You choked on every word, seeing blood spill from his mouth. You looked at Thomas who was getting pinned down by him, hoping he could do something. Maybe he could make Newt come back straight away, in the moment. Snapping back to reality, you opened your eyes. Nowhere was safe for you. All of your senses cursed with guilt. Why didn't you save him?

Your thoughts refused to stop thinking causing another memory to flood your brain. You smiled looking at Newt who was covered in sweat.

"Would you like any help?"

Your laughter blessed his ears as he considered your help before quickly refusing it. Another memory overtook this, you looked down to his arm. A repeated memory.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

This moment changed your life. The moment a sigh fell from his mouth you knew you had to tell him, otherwise he'd never know. He was going to die. You wanted to speak but nothing left your mouth. You couldn't comfort him, let alone tell him your feelings.

A while later the two of you were left alone once again, his face purposely avoiding yours. You hadn't spoken since he told you.

"Newt. I'm sorry. I just...I just can't lose you as well."

Tears threatened to fall down your cheeks. Newt turned to face you, he couldn't handle the sight of your face being destroyed by fear. The boy lifted your head ever so slightly, wiping away your tears. As of right now, he had no words to share. He wanted to tell you how much he loved you. Even he knew that would be harsh, to tell someone you love them, and then leave them. He wasn't stupid. He knew his chance of survival were ridiculous.

"I mean, how do I say goodbye to someone who's been with me through hell. You where there when I needed you most, so I'll be here for you."

You threw your head back, looking up to the sky, hoping it would stop the tears.

"I can't keep living like this. We can't keep living like this. We've lost so much. Why must we lose more? Let alone ourselfs."

Guilt swarmed Newts head, your pain was all his fault. He was unsure whether to comfort you or allow you to spill your thoughts. He pulled you into a hug whispering into your ear.

"It's okay, I love you so much. Don't let what happens to me change you. I want you to be happy. That's My Only Wish."

You were back into the present time. Water filled your eyes before spilling down your cheeks, you wished you could have lived how he wanted you to but you couldn't. You couldn't handle these feelings anymore. Let alone dealing with them alone. The longer you're sat here alone, the more you break Newts only wish. You wanted to see the way his face creased when he smiled, the way his eyes sparkled in front of the fire, and most of all you wanted to hear the sound of his voice telling you he loved you. You knew there was only one way to have even have the slightest chance to stop this suffering. And it was to end it all.

[philcoulsonismyhero]

Anything from the Temeraire or Torchwood sections of the RoL Crossovers?

So the concept behind the Temeraire crossover that I've been playing around with is still a bit loose, but the general idea is that some practitioners serve in the aerial corps because dragons And magic is a very fun concept, although I've yet to decide if Nightingale is the last active wizard or not. (Tbh he probably is, I just haven't figured out what happened to the rest of them yet.) And, as this snippet would suggest, Molly is a dragon:

Just as Temeraire was about to seize the cow of his choice, a small black and white dragon appeared out of nowhere and stole it out from underneath him in a gliding swoop. She sailed off down the valley with her ill-gotten prize, moving as quickly and as silently as she had arrived.  “Oh!” exclaimed Temeraire, outraged. “Oh! Laurence, that dragon stole my cow!” He was bristling, backwinging as if he was about to chase after her. Laurence tried to reassure him.  “There are plenty of other cows, my dear,” he called.  “Yes, but that one was mine.” Despite Laurence's best efforts, he pursued the smaller dragon down the valley. Perhaps knowing she would be outmatched on speed, the little black and white creature tried manoeuvring and looped back to fly over the heads of the onlookers and land in the courtyard. She dropped her now-dead prize on the ground and stood over it, hissing viciously in Temeraire’s direction and lashing out occasionally with an unusually long and barbed tongue.  “There is no reason for you to be hissing at me,” said Temeraire, indignantly, as he came in to land in the courtyard also. “You are the one who is stealing.” The small dragon kept hissing, shifting position to better guard the carcass, clearly determined not to give it up.  “It’s that damned feral again,” exclaimed Barclay. “Someone send for Nightingale, he's the only one who can talk any sense into her.”

And, since I also enjoy the Torchwood stuff, here's a bit with Nightingale and Jack after the episode 'Captain Jack Harkness' that's also my best attempt at imitating the narration style in the short story 'Miroslav's Fabulous Hand':

“You should have seen it, Thomas,” says Jack. “It was beautiful.” It is 2007, and I am sitting in the atrium of the Folly, in one of the overstuffed green leather armchairs. Across from me, also in an armchair, sits a handsome, square-jawed man with spiky brown hair and clear blue eyes. He wears a light blue dress shirt, grey braces and pleated dark grey trousers in a 1940s style. The Second World War RAF great coat that he arrived in is currently hanging on the coat rack by the door, hung there by Molly. His name, or at least the one that he chooses to go by, is Captain Jack Harkness, and he looks to be in his 40s. Like me, he is much older than that. “The 1940s, dancing and singing and living,  and we stepped right into it,” Jack continues. “A dance hall full of soldiers, shining out right in the middle of the Cardiff Blitz.” His gaze is far away, lost in the memory. “It must have been quite something,” I say.  “It was,” he says. “They were.” A long moment’s pause, and then he sighs. “He was.” “Someone you met?” I ask, gently. I know the grief that I can see behind his eyes. Jack nods. “It was him, Thomas. The original Captain Jack Harkness.” I feel my eyebrows rise involuntarily. “The man whose identity you -” I can’t think of a more tactful word before Jack completes the sentence for me. “That I stole, yeah. Way back when I first visited 1941. The man whose name I’ve been using for a hundred and [number] years. Of all the dance halls in all of history, I walk into his.”