#but I had a LOT of Polly pocket too so I wonder how I missed out on those?? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tommyspeakycap · 3 years

Note

Hi :) I was wondering if you’d be open to writing something about Tommy and baby Shelby going to see Alfie. With season 5 Alfie trying to hide his scars because he thinks she’d be scared but she just cuddles into him. I get if this is weird or too specific😅

Protected

“Remember what we talked about eh?” Tommy says to his youngest sibling as he tugs open the door on her side of the car. (y/n) Shelby takes her brothers outstretched hand to help her jump down out of the car that was a little too high up for her to manage to climb out by herself. “Yes Tommy.” She responds, skipping off in front of him to the big heavy front door of the building they were going into. The little girl leans against the door to very little avail as it barely even budges until Tommy reaches the door too and pushes it open with one strong arm.

He steps very firmly in front of (y/n) in the lobby of the building to prevent her running off again, and crouches down to her height with both hands placed firmly on her small upper arms to hold her still. “You stay right next to me okay?” He repeats, “And stay quiet yeah? I’ll try and be as quick as i can.” (y/n) smiles in response, “And then we can go to the sweet shop?”

Tommy nods and gives his little sister a soft smile before he stands up straight and takes her hand tightly in his. His littlest sister is so fearless and unaware of the dangers of the life she was dropped into that it always gives Tommy a sense of relief in some ways. It was almost like a form of escapism. Bouncing between Polly, John, Arthur, Charlie, and Tommy had made her life very different from most, even from Tommy’s young son. It would be incredibly safe to say that it was a shock when Polly Gray had entered into the betting shop in Watery Lane holding a baby wrapped in a pink blanket. They were all incredibly confused and very soon learned that Arthur Shelby Senior had shown up on the doorstep with another child he wasn’t interested in raising. She was an accidental one who’s mother died in childbirth and the deadbeat father had been gifted with yet another little life to let down.

Of course it became very important for Tommy that the baby girl did not experience the same kind of sheer let down that their father had given to all of them. He named sweet little (y/n) on that evening 6 and a half years ago. He felt like he was completely aimless and useless at that time. He had decided not to go after Grace and that lost love was weird for him after finally having it. Then that beautiful, quiet, warm and sweet little girl was placed into his arms and held tightly onto his finger and suddenly, his world and his love seemed to hold new meaning.

She was his muse, his greatest love and his favourite little sidekick.

“Tommy fuckin’ Shelby.” Alfie rumbles out, his back to the door as he faces out his balcony. “That’s a bad word, Tommy.” (y/n) chides in a whisper as she looks up cautiously at her elder brother. Tommy offers her small hand a gentle squeeze and nods his head, but promptly turns his head back to the man holding a gun at the window. “And you’ve brought your mini protégé, i see.”

Alfie turns half of his face, only his good half, to see the sweet little wave from the youngest Shelby sibling. “Alfie, this is my sister; (y/n).” Tommy introduces, hoping his willingness to divulge his sisters name would move Alfie away from the subject as quickly as possible so that they could talk about what he was really there to talk about and then he could take his sister and go quickly. He didn’t like her having to be involved in these things, he always feared it would bring her into the line of fire. “Mhm,” Alfie grumbles, “Last time i saw you, you was only about this big-” He gestures with his hand only a few feet off the floor, “Couldn’t speak much, either.” The Londoner adds, eyes slightly narrowed. The 6 year old tilts her head to the side.

“I can speak a lot now, Mister Solomons.” She says, somewhat proudly. The burly man laughs, not his usual sinister or mocking way. “I can see that.” He hums in response, eyes moving from the little girl to Tommy when he clears his throat heavily to draw attention back to him. “If we could, Alfie, I’d like to talk business.” Alfie nods his head in response, gesturing with his hand to the couch across the room. Tommy let’s go of his sisters hand to sit down on the couch, the little girl doing her best to climb up beside him with only a little help from her brother. Alfie sits on the chair across from them. Tommy knows there had to be significant damage to the side of the man’s face after the injury he sustained from the bullet fired out of Thomas’s gun. There was almost no way he escaped that unscathed.

“I’m going to kill a facist, Alfie. And i need some men.”

The words from Tommy prompt Alfie to rather abruptly turn his head, somewhat shocked by the words, but more shocked by the fact the 6 year old little girl was completely unbothered by the words her brother had spoken. The pre-school aged girl simply continues fiddling with the pocket watch Tommy gave to her. She looks to be dismantling it with a very distinctive focus that reminds Alfie she is a Shelby, and she might fully be aware of how to kill him already.

“A facist ey?” Alfie repeats, his eyebrows raised. “Politics got to you, Thomas?” Tommy rolls his eyes and lights a cigarette. “I need some men.” Tommy adds, making Alfie scoff. “Oh you do, do you? And you want mine?”

Tommy merely nods his head.

In his discussion with the head of the Peaky Blinders, Alfie had not forgotten the presence of the 6 year old on the couch, but it had fallen away from the forefront focus of his mind as he debated the thought of lending men to a Shelby’s cause. In doing so, he turned his head in thought and a little noise of awe left the youngest Shelby. Tommy and Alfie both direct their attention straight to her.

The little girl scoots herself off the couch and Tommy reaches for her arm, but just misses. She trods right up to the huge London gangster and tilts her head. “What happened?” She asks softly. Alfie shifts uncomfortably on the couch he sits on, running his finger absentmindedly over the scarring of his face. “Got shot.” Alfie responds, Tommy clears his throat heavily and almost awkwardly in knowing he was the one who had given Alfie Solomons his facial scarring. (y/n) tilts her little head in awe as she clambers up onto the couch next to him.

“Looks cool.” She mutters in awe.

Most look at him in some kind of shock or horror even. Some with sympathy thinking it had come from the war and some with fear knowing where it had really come from. But few with the kindness and curiosity of the 6 year old standing on his good couch.

“Does it hurt?” She asks quietly. Alfie shrugs.

“Depends.”

That’s when her little hand reaches forward to trace over the scarring with an almost feather light child’s touch as she stands there on the couch, her hands are cold and gentle over the markings that no one has touched since his last hospital appointment.

“Her mother’s daughter.”

Alfie flicks his eyes back over to a now standing Thomas as he reaches forward to lift his sister up into his arms where she sits on his hip with little furrowed eyebrows and a purse on her lips. Alfie’s residual aching cheekbone pain has faded to nearly non-existent for the first time he can soberly remember. He knows that Tommy knows this by the look in his eyes and the way in which he notes his prior statement before he gathered his sister.

“She’s sweet.” Alfie nods, standing to his feet. As softened as both men may be by the child in the room, Alfie does not like sitting as Tommy Shelby towers over him whether the man is an ally or not. “Polly says i get it from Tommy.” (y/n) chimes. Alfie raises his eyebrows with a grin that makes Tommy roll his eyes at the retired gangster. “Oh do you now?” Alfie hums, opening his mouth to speak again when Tommy cuts him off. “You go ahead to the car (y/n), eh? I’ll meet you down there in just a minute okay?”

The six year old nods and runs off the moment her feet hit the ground. Tommy turns to Alfie immediately.

“If you ever-“

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Mister Mom.” Alfie rumbles, crossing his arms over his chest with a beaming grin. “Little miss Shelby has you whipped, mate. Tell me, what’s your favourite apron you wear at home eh Thomas?” He chuckles heartily, making Tommy glower in rage at his teasing. “I’m fucking serious, Alfie.” He growls. Alfie straightens up and stops laughing immediately.

His eyes narrow for a split second and he tilts his head, his eyes searching the depth of Tommy’s cerulean blues and immediately noticing the sheer panic and worry that lies deep within them, attempting to hide under brotherly protective instinct and rage at the prospect of harm falling on his little sister. Alfie inhales deeply. He would truly never dream of harming a child. It’s not in his nature, nor does it sit well with him. And though he had been quick to give the head of the Peaky Blinders a reality check in the past regarding the safety of his son, in the end he had no idea Charlie Shelby had been taken and he never would have arranged for that to happen.

Alfie nods his head and leans forward. “She’s special to you, yeah?” Tommy doesn’t know why Alfie asks. He’s sure it’s clearer than he wants it to be, but alas the Londoner asks anyway and Tommy doesn’t know exactly how to answer, so he simply makes a motion something akin to a nod though looks more like a twitch of his chin. “Mhm, I can tell. You can have the men. I’m sure you know the price.” Alfie turns away. Tommy doesn’t know what it was in Alfie’s eyes that reassured him more than words ever could that he wouldn’t lay harm on the 6 year old little girl who treated him with more respect and kindness in the ten minutes she spoke to him that anyone had in years. There was an element of brotherly protectiveness that Alfie felt only after knowing her a short time.

“And Tommy?”

“Yes, Alfie?” The Birmingham MP turns back as he leaves the doorway of Alfie’s sitting room.

“Anything ever happens to the kid, you fuckin’ let me know yeah?”

Tommy nods his head, the ghost of a smile somewhat on his face. His little sister is just about as protected as they come, and there was a distinct feeling of certainty that Alfie Solomons was there, lurking in the shadows of existence with a familial fondness of the little Shelby girl who carries the glow of an angel above her head that would ensure no men, from Birmingham or further afield would have to go through every Solomons and Shelby loyal man up and down the country before a hair on (y/n) Shelby’s head was messed. Tommy holds hope somewhere deep in his heart that his little sister will never have to see violence aimed at her, and that for as long as she lives she knows that she is instantaneously loved, dearly held in every heart and ferociously protected by some of Britain’s most dangerous men.

#tommy shelby x sister!reader #tommy shelby x sister reader #shelby sister reader #shelby!reader #baby!shelby #baby shelby #alfie solomons x baby!shelby #alfie solomons platonic #peaky blinders #peaky blinders blurb

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rubysunnday · 4 years

Text

Cousin Mine

Y/N had only meant to go outside for a bit of fresh air and a cigarette.

There were so many people inside the house and it was beginning to get overwhelming - not to mention the fact people get coming up to her and offering her their sympathies.

She’d never particularly liked Grace. But, somehow, the woman had become a maternal figure in her life despite only really being in it a few years.

Her death had rocked Y/N and she still didn’t quite know what was happening.

Opening the Grace Shelby institute - the actual title was a lot longer and more tedious but Y/N couldn’t be bothered to remember it in its entirety - was meant to help with that loss and to cope with it and to move on.

Y/N sighed, exhaling a large cloud of smoke as she dropped her cigarette onto the gravel and squished it out with her heel. She turned to step back inside when someone shoved past her, evidently in a hurry.

“Oi!” Y/N yelled, turning to watch them run towards a car. “Watch where you’re fucking going.”

The person slowed down and Y/N could now see they were holding a squirming child in their arms.

The child turned their head and Y/N felt her stomach drop as Charlie looked back at her, his eyes watering with tears.

“What the fuck are you doing with my nephew?” Y/N demanded, marching forwards towards the person, hand reaching for the gun she had in her coat pocket.

Two men suddenly grabbed her arms from behind, pulling her backwards harshly. Y/N stumbled, her shoes slipping on the gravel of the driveway and she tried to fight them off. She went to scream but one of them put a piece of cloth over her mouth and nose.

Y/N tried not to breathe in whatever was on it but her lungs burnt for air and eventually she did, her knees buckling underneath her as whatever drug was on the cloth took hold and knocked her out.

Tommy sighed as the women finally left him, moving off to go interrogate someone else. He looked around and frowned slightly as he saw no sign of his son in the room.

He looked around again, glancing over at where John’s children were playing.

Still no Charlie.

“Where’s Charles, Ada?” Tommy asked, approaching his sister.

Ada frowned, looking up at him from the man she’d been talking to. “I gave him to you.”

Tommy shook his head slightly, staring at his sister. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know.”

Tommy tried not to let panic overwhelm just yet. He walked over to John and Arthur, trying to ignore his heartbeat increasing. “Boys. Have you seen Charlie?”

“I don’t know, he’s playing isn’t he?” John asked, his eyes narrowing slightly at his brothers panicked state.

Tommy turned around and walked up to Polly. “Pol, where’s Charles?” He asked, pulling her away from whatever conversation she was having with Esme and the mayor.

Polly looked at him blankly, her eyes widening a fraction in concern. Tommy turned and moved on to Lizzie.

“Lizzie. Where is Charlie?” Tommy demanded, looking at her and Linda.

“I don’t know,” Lizzie replied, shaking her head, frowning.

Tommy was beginning to panic.

His son was missing.

He turned around and walked back to his brothers, pointing at them and listing off locations to go and search as he himself began to panic even more.

“Tommy,” Ada called, running up to them. “Somebody said they saw a nurse take him through the back door.”

“What nurse?” Arthur asked, grabbing Ada’s arm.

“I don’t know,” Ada replied, pushing him towards the door. “Go.”

Arthur ran out the door and began searching the staircase by the backdoor, running up it and then back down it.

“Arthur,” Ada called, running up to him and grabbing the banister.

“What?” Arthur asked, running past her, back down the stairs.

“Somebody said they saw a woman and a kid getting into a car,” Ada, said, following him. “They also said there looked like a girl was with them.”

Arthur paused, halfway down the stairs, and looked back up at Ada, frowning. “What girl?”

“I don't...” Ada trailed off, her eyes widening as she realised.

“Y/N,” Arthur muttered, his own panic growing even more. “Fuck.”

Tommy looked around as John emerged outside the house. “John?”

Arthur then appeared, looking very flustered and even more panicked than before. “John, call Moss. Tell him to block the junctions. Go!”

John nodded at Arthur and turned around, running back into the house.

“Arthur, where is he?” Tommy asked, looking up at his brother as he walked up to him. Arthur put a hand on the back of Tommy’s neck, the other on his cheek. “Arthur, tell me.”

“Someone took him,” Arthur said as gently as he could. Tommy shoved him off but Arthur grabbed him, forcing him to look at him. “Listen to me,” he said, putting a hand on Tommy’s head as his brother buried his head against him, “they put him in a car and drove south. Tom, listen...”

Tommy looked up at him, wondering what else Arthur could possibly say to make his day worse. “What?”

“They took Y/N too,” Arthur said slowly, eyeing his brother carefully incase he needed to catch him. “She was outside when they took Charlie and tried to stop them but got caught in it, apparently.”

Tommy was panicking even more. He couldn’t breathe. “What?”

He fell against his brother and Arthur held him against his chest, keeping him upright as he put a hand on the back of his head, cradling him.

“We’ll find her, Tommy,” Arthur said, trying to reassure himself too. “We’ll find them both.”

Y/N had no idea how long she’d been out for.

Nor did she have any idea as to where she even was.

It looked like the back room of a church. It smelt like a church.

The cross hanging on the wall opposite her confirmed the fact it was, indeed, a church.

Charlie had gurgled happily upon seeing his aunt awake and had made grabby hands at her. Y/N, swallowing down her own fear, had smiled at her nephew and picked him up, holding him against her.

He was now fast asleep in her lap, and she was gently stroking her nephews hair. Her right hand was tied to the radiator behind her, the rope tight enough around her wrist that it was beginning to hurt.

When she’d woken up, the Reverend had walked in and she’d given the him what for and had ended up being slapped.

Her face was still burning and she knew that there was a significant bruise forming on her right cheek and that her lip was cut - she’d been tasting the metallic tang of blood ever since.

Charlie was confused as to what was happening, but seeing his aunt had made him content enough.

Y/N sighed, leaning her head back against the radiator. She bite her lip, hard, as she tried not to cry in front of her nephew.

She hated this.

She hated Tommy.

She hated everyone.

But she was so, so desperate for someone to come rescue her.

Y/N knew that, if Charlie hadn’t been here, she would be raising hell, right now, and breaking down windows and doors and fighting to escape. But she couldn’t risk anything happening to Charlie as a result of her actions.

So, she sat.

And waited.

The sun appeared and then disappeared and then appeared. Y/N watched it through the window, mentally counting the minutes, the hours.

She fell asleep at one point and woke up with a start when Charlie had poked her face to wake her up.

The sun was disappearing once again when the door to the back room was unlocked and pulled open.

Y/N sat up, unconsciously tightening her grip on Charlie as the Reverend walked in holding a tray.

“Good evening,” he said, smiling.

Y/N tried not to show how afraid she was as he walked up to her and crouched down, putting the tray on the floor in front of her.

“Hi, little one,” he said as Charlie raised his head and looked at him. He held out a sliver spoon to him. “Want a shiny spoon?”

“Leave him the fuck alone,” Y/N warned, holding Charlie close to her as she glared up at the man.

The Reverend tutted as he turned to look at Y/N. “Such language from a young woman is inappropriate,” he said, shaking his head. “I wish I could’ve taught you better.”

“You’re a fucking creep,” Y/N snapped, still glaring.

The sound of the slap he delivered bounced off the white-washed walls. Y/N gasped as her head was forcibly turned to the side. The Reverend leant forward and grabbed her chin, holding it tightly.

“Listen here you bitch,” he hissed. “I won’t harm the child, but if you don’t start to learn to respect me, I will hurt you.”

He let go of her and turned back to Charlie who was gurgling happy, completely oblivious, at the spoon his hand.

Y/N’s head turned to look at the open door as she heard footsteps approach it. The Reverend frowned slightly as he, too, heard them and stood up, walking to the door and standing just outside it.

“What do you think you’re doing, boy?” The Reverend asked who ever was out there.

Y/N couldn’t see what was going and could only, really, hear the Reverend.

“Please don't,” he said, sounding panicked. “Please don’t shoot. Please don’t shoot. Please don’t.”

Y/N heard someone grunt and the sound of fighting. Hoping it was rescue and not someone else who’d come to kidnap her, she reached forward for the bowl in front of her.

She smashed it on the wall behind her, soup and shards of ceramic going everywhere.

Charlie began to whimper as Y/N swore loudly, a shard of the bowl cutting her left hand as she picked it up.

“I know, Charlie, I know,” she muttered as she began cutting the rope. The blood was dripping down her arm and onto her dress which had long since been ruined, but she kept going.

“Do you know who you’re fucking messing with?” The Reverend yelled and Y/N could hear another man grunting.

Y/N’s efforts increased as she heard the sound of someone choking. She growled, pulling on the rope as she tried to pull it free from the radiator.

“No!”

Y/N froze as the rope finally snapped and her hand fell limply to the floor in to a pool of blood.

Michael was out there.

“Go call Finn,” Michael said to whoever else was out there with him.

Y/N didn’t hear anything else as she forced herself to stand up, almost falling over as her legs protested.

She could hear the Reverend choking for air and recognised the sound of a dying man as he gurgled on, what she presumed was his own blood. She grasped the wall behind her and pushed herself up, stumbling over to the open door.

Charlie had crawled over to the door and was throwing random pencils around, cooing happily at Michael.

Y/N could see the outline of the Reverend, dead on the floor, and spotted the edge of her cousin as he sat against the wall next to the door.

She quietly walked up to the door and slid down the wall, facing Charlie. She could hear Michael’s shaking breath and reached out her right hand around the door frame.

Michael looked to his left and saw his cousin’s hand reaching out for his. He lowered his blood soaked one and clenched hers tightly, ignoring the way they both shook.

Y/N leant her head against the wall and sighed softly, holding Michael’s hand tightly as she watched Charlie, oblivious to what had happened, playing happily on the floor.

After a minute, Y/N crawled around to the other side of the wall and sat next to Michael, stretching her legs out in front of her.

She didn’t say anything about the blood dripping down his face, or the fact the Reverend had been killed by his own rosary.

Michael hadn’t said anything about what had happened to him at the hands of the now dead man, but Y/N didn’t have to have a vivid imagination to picture it.

She hoped the man was rotting in hell.

Y/N looked up at Michael, who was staring straight ahead, eyes wide, and dropped her head on to his shoulder.

Michael glanced down at her. He hesitated for a moment but then lowered his head to rest on top of hers.

There were still lights on inside the office as they walked inside. Y/N followed behind Michael, forcing herself to keep walking even though she was aching with every step.

Her cousin was holding Charlie in his arms and almost as soon as he stepped through the front door, Polly and Ada ran out and took him from him, both crying in relief at Charlie being safe and in one piece.

Y/N came to a stop next to her cousin and took his hand in hers, trying not to lean on him too much as she swayed slightly.

She had blood on her dress, the red staining the fabric that had once been light blue.

Polly turned and looked at her son and niece, her eyes catching the dried blood on Michael’s face, the ruined skin on Y/N’s right hand, the dried blood on her dress and the bruise on her cheeks.

Y/N tried not to flinch as Polly put a hand to her cheek, her thumb gently tracing over the bruises and her cut lip. She looked at her aunt, unable to form a sentence as she dropped her hand and turned to look at her son.

Michael stared straight ahead as his mother embraced him gingerly.

Polly stepped back, watching as Michael turned around, Y/N following him silently as they both left. She watched them both with a sad face, seeing how defeated and broken they both looked.

Michael stopped outside the office front door and let go of Y/N’s hand, putting his hands on her shoulders and turning her to face him. He silently tilted her chin up, eyes scanning her bruised and bloodied face as she looked up at him.

Y/N reached up and wiped away a speck of blood from her cousins eyebrow and blinked against the tears forming in her eyes. One escaped and trickled down her face, dripping off her chin.

Without a word, Michael brought Y/N against him and held her tightly, hand coming to rest on the back of her head.

Y/N relaxed into her cousins grip and closed her eyes. She put her hands under his jacket and around his waist, burying her hands in the bunched up fabric of his shirt and breathing in the smell of his cologne.

Neither one of them would ever say what they did that night.

#Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders fanfic #shelby sis #shelby sister #tommy shelby x sister!reader #michael grey x reader #michael grey imagine

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moral-turpitudes · 4 years

Text

Trust Issues:

Trigger Warnings: Lil bit of /implied/ Smut, Fluff, Angst, Fighting, Swearing, Blood, basically everything that makes the Peaky Blinders the Peaky Blinders.

Word Count: A lot...5,447 (I’ll be adding it to the masterlist under requested fics because it’s long as hell lmao)

Characters: Finn Shelby x Female!Reader

Request: “Hey can you make one with Finn where they dating for some time but the Shelby family doesn't know much about her/her family so they don't trust her but them she receves a black hand and Luca goes after her trying to get her to betray the family and she pretends to agree just to tell them a Luca is up to and just how her relashionship becomes better with then and how Finn just love her more and more. angst/fluff maybe smut idk”

Requested by: Anon

Summary: Y/N worries Finn’s family won’t trust her, but she gains it in an unexpected way.

“I’ve told you a hundred times Finn, your family doesn’t like me! It’s no secret.” Y/N stated, pacing around her room that Finn ventured to almost every night.

“They do too! They’re just...horrible at trusting people really. That’s all.” He said, stopping her from frantically pacing by placing his arms around her when she got close to him.

“Let me go!” She yelled, giggling as he picked her up and placed her on the bed.

He hovered over her like so many nights before, kissing her neck as she whimpered quietly in her barren apartment. His hands trailing down to her hips as she pulled him closer, their movements slowly breaking her out of her worries.

“When you-“ Y/N began, but was interrupted by Finn kissing her passionately.

“Stop worrying. We’re seeing them tomorrow whether you want to or not. They know how important you are to me, they just haven’t gotten to know you that well yet.” He said, continuing his actions as she moaned into his lips as his hands traveled further down.

Later that night, they lied there tangled in each other’s arms. Breathing ragged as they came down from their high.

“Can you believe we’ve been dating for a year, love?” He asked, looking up at the aging ceiling.

“Dating in secret for 6 months, dating in public for the other 6, it doesn’t feel like a year.” She said tersely.

Finn sighed as she spoke, preparing himself for another mini-lecture.

“My family can be a bit much Y/N, I’m sorry I kept you a secret from them for so long. There’s just...a lot of things about them that are-“ He started before Y/N interrupted him.

“Dangerous. I know.” She said sighing as she cuddled into his chest.

“Yeah. You’re not on their bad side, but it’s easy to get there, so I just wanted to keep you safe. Those 6 months were some of the scariest of my life so far. I just didn’t want you to get hurt.” He said, kissing the top of your head.

She turned to him, not saying a word as she looked into his eyes. They were so bright and full of hope despite the things he’s seen, making her wonder how long it would be until they turned cold and sinister like his brothers.

“I love you, Finn. I really do.” She said, pecking him on the lips before lying back down to sleep.

“I know.” He said, settling down beside her, hoping tomorrow would go well.

The next morning, the mail man came by dropping off various letters, waking them from their slumber as he banged on the door.

Finn shot up, looking to see Y/N still asleep as he went to see who it was.

He grabbed his hand gun after he put on his pants, and quietly walked to the door.

“Hello sir! Good morning. Here’s the mail for Miss Y/L/N.” He said cheerfully.

“Thank you.” He said, his nerves calming as he tucked the gun in his pocket, out of sight of the man.

As he waved the man off and closed the door, he heard his girlfriend’s footsteps lightly coming down the stairs.

“Finn? Who was that? Is everything okay?” She asked, pulling her robe around her nude body tightly.

“Yeah, just the mail.” He said, running his hands through the mass of hair on his head. He hadn’t told her the terrible news yet, but he figured bringing her to the family meeting would suffice.

He watched as she rummaged through various letters from her loved ones in London, knowing she’d probably spend hours writing back as she missed them terribly. Her job at a children’s charity office had forced her to move out to Small Heath after all.

As he watched, he saw her pick up a small letter that had intricate writing on it.

Y/N’s brow furrowed as she didn’t recognize the persons handwriting.

And when she opened it, she only grew more confused as she stared at the black handprint stamped on the white paper.

“What’s this?” She asked, raising it up to him. He crossed the room in a flash and tugged the letter from her hand.

“We have to go.” He said quickly, angrily.

“Finn, wait! We have to get dressed are you mad?!” She yelled, panicking internally.

Finn stopped near the front door and pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance, realizing he almost went to a family meeting half dressed, and leaving his girlfriend to meet them in a robe.

“Right. Ok, we have to be quick. C’mon.” He said leading her back upstairs so they could change.

Once done, they ran down the stairs, Y/N grabbing the letter and shoving it in her pocket as they went out the door.

Meanwhile at the shop, Tommy paced and checked his pocket watch as the family waited for Finn, knowing he’d probably bring his girlfriend in with him.

“So you’re telling me this fucking black hand is from the Changretta’s, Tom?” John asked, his face flushing with anger as he slammed the letter on his desk.

“Yes. They’re here and they’re taunting us. But I can’t talk about that until everyone’s here alright?”

“Oi he’s probably just fucking his, girlfriend they’ll be here soon. She has no ties to us besides Finn. They wouldn’t go after him or her, he’s not as involved.” Arthur said.

“Not yet. I know how he works. He’s going to try to run this family into the ground if we let him.” Tommy said, lighting a cigarette as the shop doors flew open, Finn practically dragging Y/N through the lobby and into the room.

“What the fuck is this Tommy! Why’s he coming for her eh?” He said grabbing the letter from her hand roughly and tossing it on his desk.

“Finn, Y/N...nice of you to join us. Everyone sit down.” He said walking in front of his desk and leaning against it.

“Why is he coming for her? Can we trust her?” Linda asked, earning a cold look from Finn.

“Shut it Linda. Yes you can trust her for gods sake, leave the poor girl alone.” Ada said.

“Since I got this letter personally may I speak? Or do I have to be pregnant or married to one of you to do so?” Y/N remarked snidely, annoyed at Linda’s assumptions. Polly smirked as she sipped her tea nervously. Tommy raised an eyebrow and nodded for her to continue, not expecting her to join in on things so quickly.

The room fell silent as she clutched Finns hand nervously.

“I know I’m not liked around here. You have no reason to like me and I’m not going to beg for anyone’s approval, but I want you to know you can trust me. I love Finn, and I’d never put him and your family in harms way, and to my knowledge he wouldn’t do so either. I can’t even begin to tell you how I got that letter, but before you call me out again, Linda. I’d like to ease some of your all’s suspicions.” She said, shifting in her seat.

“I’ve met you all a fair amount of times in the last 6 months. During that time I’ve had to readjust to a new job and move away from my family who are in London, and they have no ties to whatever the hell’s going on, therefore they don’t have ties to me either. I swear you can trust me.” She said, feeling her heart rate sky rocketing.

“Do you know about Luca Changretta?” Tommy asked, rubbing a cigarette along his lip before lighting it and taking a drag.

“No. I’ve never heard that name in my life.” She stated.

“Well, I’ve called you all here today because that is one of the men who sent us all black hands. Everyone got one, and that means he knows where we live, he most likely knows where we are at all times.” Tommy said.

“I’m going to have eyes on you until this is over, but I need you all to promise me something.” He said, putting out his cigarette in the tray on his desk.

“Promise what Thomas?” Polly asked, putting her tea down and crossing her arms.

“If you see anything suspicious, you tell me. I don’t care if it’s a false alarm, you tell me and don’t mutter any of this to a single soul.” He said, glaring at everyone as they sat before him.

“John, Arthur, Finn, Isiah. Get ready, grab your guns and your caps. Ladies you stay here, only go out for break. Polly, keep the legal business running, we can’t have someone slipping under our noses.” He said checking his bullets and putting on his coat.

“Will you be setting men up at our houses?” Esme asked.

“Yes. Mine too, don’t worry they’ve been briefed already.” He said, walking out the door.

Finn stood up reluctantly and pulled Y/N in for a hug and she placed a quick peck on his lips before he left, putting his cap on his head and grabbing a gun.

“Now, we have to work ladies. Y/N you’re staying here. You’ll have to call in today.” Polly said, grabbing papers off Tommy’s desk.

“Okay. I can help if needed, I’ve done secretary work before.” She said.

Polly looked at her for a moment and studied her before answering.

“Alright, there’s a desk near mine that’s been empty, I think the poor girl quit but hasn’t handed in her letter of resignation. You’ll take her desk for today, I’ll give you papers to sign with the company name.” She ordered.

“Okay, thank you Polly.” Y/N said quietly, sitting down at the rather large desk. The girl must’ve quit because the desk was empty and she found no personal items there, not even a photograph.

Polly came strolling over with a handful of documents pointing at the various places to sign and explaining some of the forms to her.

“Thank you, Polly.” She said giving her a small smile.

Y/N began signing, using it as a way to take her mind off of Finn and his brothers whereabouts.

Polly and Ada discussed some other work, and Linda filed some papers while Esme typed documents up, they all worked together nicely but there was a visible underlying tension between them and Linda. And if Y/N had a bad list, she knew she was first on it.

She sighed as she blew through the papers, yearning for a break and deciding to call in for the day at her regular job.

“Hello this is Y/N Y/L/N. I’m calling in today, I have some personal matters to attend to.....alright....thank you Mrs. Johnson. I’ll be in tomorrow....goodbye.” She said, hearing the disappointment in her bosses voice as she spoke.

“Did you call in?” Polly asked, overhearing your phone call.

“Yes. My boss wasn’t too happy but it’s not something I can control really.” She said.

“Next time I wouldn’t deal in absolutes my dear.” Polly said, combing through papers.

“What do you mean?” Y/N asked, finishing the forms on her desk.

“I know we haven’t known you for long but one thing you should know about the Shelby’s my dear is that we try not to make promises or make definite plans with others.” She said.

“So you’re saying I probably won’t be coming into work tomorrow either?” Y/N asked, anxiety filling her mind as she thought of Finn being hurt.

“Yes. You never know with this fucking family.” She said lighting a cigarette.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She said, excusing herself as she went towards the front door.

“Where are you going?” Polly asked.

“I just need some space. I’ll be right outside.” She said, she was about to promise that too but she heeded Polly’s words. They made sense but she couldn’t shake the sense of dread out of her bones.

As she leant against the cold brick building, she heard the door open as Ada walked out and stood near her.

“Did you come out here to see if I was lying?” Y/N asked.

“That and I wanted to apologize for Linda. She’s...difficult.” She said, lighting a cigarette for herself.

Y/N scoffed and lit one of her own, looking around nervously, scanning the streets for anything suspicious.

“They wouldn’t hang out right near the shop unless they want to be shot on sight.” Ada said.

“Can’t risk anything though eh?” Y/N said, taking another drag from her cigarette.

Ava smirked and nodded as she looked out at the dark, black-tinged buildings in front of them.

“We do like you, you know...we just can’t trust people very often in this business.” She said, looking at Y/N.

Y/N smiled as she stared at the brunette Shelby, her eyes less scarred by everything, kind of like Finn’s.

“Finn said that too. I’m relieved to hear that, I know it’s not easy welcoming in new people.” She said.

Ada nodded and patted Y/N’s shoulder before going back inside, leaving her out in the open.

Suddenly, a man walked near her looking just slightly out of place against the tattered clothes of the townspeople. He was tall, lean, and had a black hat on, making her tense up as he drew closer.

“Hello miss. Ya know where I can find a bar ‘round here?” He asked, looking around him quickly as he spoke, a toothpick sticking out of his mouth on the verge of falling with each word.

“No, sorry sir. Have a good day.” She said glancing at the tattoo on his neck.

“You work here?” He asked, walking closer to her.

She backed up until her back hit the wall, leaving her nowhere to go.

“No. May I ask your name? Not many men stop me on the streets and I’d like to know.” She asked, her heart racing as she tried to remain calm.

“You don’t belong on the streets sweetheart. You could join me though, I have some business I’m taking care of here, but when I’m done I can help you ya know.” He said leaning his palm against the wall, he was so close she could smell his cologne.

“That sounds suspicious you know. I’m not stupid.” She said, trying to walk towards the door of a nearby unmarked building, trying to get him away from the entrance to the shop.

He grabbed her wrist tightly as she went to yell, clasping his hand hard over her mouth and nose with a wet cloth. One whiff of the stuff and she was out, blackness overtaking her vision.

When she woke up she was in an alley, her clothes were ripped and her hands were tied to a pipe along a brick wall.

“What did you do to me?” She asked, scared of the answer.

“Nothing sweetheart, just wanted to take you somewhere more quiet, you seemed like a rowdy one.” He said, closing in around her and cutting her hands loose.

“Now, I’m going to ask you a question again. You have to answer honestly or I’ll take you right here in this alley.” He said.

“Okay.” She said sternly, trying to calm her nerves.

“What’s your name?” He asked.

“I asked you that earlier but you never told me.” She spat as he gripped her wrists tightly.

“My name is Y/N Y/L/N.” She said.

“I thought so. Mr. Shelby really needs to beef up his security around there don’t ya think?” He asked.

“Yes.” She said as he chuckled.

“You didn’t answer my question you know.” She stated, looking at his gun in its holster.

“Oh my bad sunshine. The names Luca. Luca Changretta. Wish we coulda met under better circumstances. I didn’t know Finn had such a fine woman.” He said.

“How do you know me?” She asked.

“I know all my enemies names. Ya gotta keep em’ closer than ya friends, you know the saying.” He said.

“I know you’re scared, but I just have one proposition for ya.” He continued, his eyes boring a hole into hers.

“What is it? To join your shitty hat club?” She asked, annoyed she got into this situation.

“Now that wasn’t nice miss Y/L/N. I’ll have to get ya for that one. Such a shame.” He said, flicking his switchblade out with one hand and gripping both your wrists with the other.

“If ya scream I’ll end ya.” He said. She blinked back tears as she forced her mouth shut, bracing for the pain of the blades edge coming for her face.

“You tend to run that pretty mouth of yours so let me help you with that.” He said inching the blade closer to her lips. She breathed heavily through her nose as she thought of anything to get her out of this situation.

She quickly brought her knee up, hitting him in the groin and making him groan in pain as he moved away from her, allowing her to run a couple of feet ahead of him.

“You can’t out-run a gun sweetheart.” He said, standing there with a pained look on his face as he clicked the gun, the bullets ready to fire in a split second.

“Walk back here and listen to my plan princess. I’ll let you go home after we talk.” He said.

Shaking, she reluctantly walked back to him, the alley feeling as if it was closing in on her every second.

“What?” She said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You’re going to help me. I’m gonna send my men to Tommy’s warehouse and you’re gonna tell Tommy to meet them there with his brothers in tow...and you’re gonna blow it up. We’ve planted the bombs but you’ll push the button.” He said, a evil smirk hinting at his lips.

“You’re mad.” She said, attempting to walk away from him before he slammed her to the wall, cutting her cheek with the switchblade in the process.

“If you stand me up or tell them about the bombs, I’ll kill ya, and then I’ll kill your little boyfriend. I’m already after the rest of them. You can’t beat me sweetheart, I’ve been tracking you and Finn for days.” He said.

She touched her cheek silently as she cried, nodding along with his words as he brought her in for a hug.

“Good girl. Now, go home or back to whatever you were doing. Don’t forget ya job later, be at the wear house at 7.” He said before walking off.

Y/N smirked as the blood ran down her cheek. He wasn’t that smart, and it was the perfect way to earn the Shelby’s trust, now that their lives depended on it.

She glanced at her watch and realized she’d been out for longer than she should’ve. Knowing Tommy and the family would probably kill her themselves once she got back.

As she walked through the alley she realized she was right down the street.

“Stupid bastard, couldn’t even take me to a discreet location.” She scoffed, walking quickly to the doors and going in, walking straight to Tommy’s office. She could hear Finn yelling and Polly arguing with Ada, and the rest of the family quarreling back and forth as she walked in, not bothering to knock.

Everyone stopped to look at her as she walked straight to Finn, tears welling up in her eyes as he pulled her into his arms.

“Where the hell did you go love? You know he told you to stay here...” he said as she cried into his shirt.

“I know. I only went outside the shop. I’m sorry.” She said wiping the blood off her face with her hand and wincing at the cut.

“Where’d you get cut then aye? You weren’t at the shop when we got back. Fucking explain that Y/N.” Tommy said walking over to her as she sat down.

“That’s why I came back here. I was just getting some air outside, Polly and Ada both know that. Then a man came up to me, asking me if I worked there and if I knew where the bar was. I said no of course. Then as I tried to head the opposite way, just to lead him away from the shop, he fucking grabbed me...” She said, struggling to catch her breath as tears streamed down her face. Finn knelt beside her, holding her hand.

“That’s not all. Who was it?” Tommy demanded, the others stood around, tension in their features as they waited for her to speak.

“Luca Changretta.” She said, Finn’s eyes went dark, a look of anger settling over his features.

Tommy and Finn got up quickly, Tommy checking the guns and Finn pulling on his cap. Meanwhile John and Arthur gathered their machine guns.

“Wait! Please...” Y/N yelled, making them all stop and turn to her.

“Don’t go. Please don’t go. He-he told me he’d kill me if I told you about his plans but I don’t fucking care. If there’s a time to trust me then it’s right now because if you go after him you’ll all die.” She said, sitting back in the chair as she felt faint.

“What are you talking about Y/N?” Finn said, checking his gun as he stood near her.

“He said that he wanted me to meet him at the wear house at 7, that’s where you all were going, correct?” She asked, looking at Tommy.

“Yes.” He said.

“Don’t fucking go. He wanted me to be the one to push the button. Tommy he’s laced the warehouse with bombs. He wanted me to betray Finn. He wanted me to betray your family, but I couldn’t do it. I-“ she said, tears streaming down her face once again as Finn knelt down and pulled her into him, resting his head atop hers.

“What do we do then aye Tom?” John asked. His trigger finger growing impatient as he clutched the gun in his hands.

“We wait him out. When he sees we’re not there he’ll go after her, but he’ll come here. If he was confident enough to come here in broad daylight he’ll come here at night in a heartbeat. We’re waiting him out.” He said.

“Polly, Ada, Y/N, Linda, Esme. You go to the room in there, close the blinds.” He said, pointing to the door in his office that led to a smaller area where Lizzie usually worked. Luckily she was at home with the children, so she wouldn’t have to deal with the chaos.

The women went into the office and sat in various seats, closing the door behind them and waited quietly, all except Y/N.

“Did you hear what I said?” Tommy asked, his voice thick with anger.

“Yes. But I have a feeling he wants to see me, maybe I can-“ She started to say before Finn took her hand and led her to the office.

“You’re not staying out here. The Changretta’s take their plans seriously and he’ll be pissed when he finds out you betrayed him. Stay in there until it’s clear.” He said giving her a long hug and brushing his hand lightly over her cut.

“We’ll get them, I-“ He started to say before she cut him off with a kiss.

“Don’t promise anything. Just go.” She said, going into the office and shutting the door behind her.

Polly quietly gave her a hand gun as she came in, putting a finger to her lips as she did so.

“I’ve never shot one what are you doing?” Y/N asked.

“You may need it. Just point and shoot.” She said.

“Why me?” She asked, her hands shaking as she held the foreign object.

“You just helped the family. We trust you, and consider this your first day.” Polly said.

“Wait I still work-“ she started, Polly cutting her off.

“I’ve made arrangements for you. You’re safer with us. Besides...” she said lighting a cigarette.

“We pay better than those blokes at the charity office.” She said.

“You called my boss? When I left?” Y/N asked.

“Yes. Now do you accept or not?” She asked, finally looking at Y/N with a look more so of approval than suspicion.

“I will if we make it out of this alive.” Y/N said. Checking her watch to see the clock ticking down to 7pm.

“Finn.” Tommy said, pulling his little brother close to him.

“You’ll be answering the door. Don’t say a word, just lead them here in my office.” He said.

John, Arthur, and Isiah stood at varying points around the room, guns ready to ambush them if needed.

Tommy checked his machine gun as he saw Polly closing the blinds and shutting the lights of.

“Isiah turn the rest of the lights off in the shop, I only want mine on.” He said and Isiah stepped out to do as told, coming back a few minutes later and deciding to help protect Polly and then from inside the small office.

Finn looked anxiously at the clock as he stood near the front door. It was 15 past 7, and knowing the Changretta’s, they rented the fastest cars they could manage to get there.

A loud knock sounded on the door not long after, causing Tommy to look up from his pocket watch, a feeling washing over him similar to the moment right before The Battle of the Somme.

“Hello Finn. Show me and my men where Tommy is and this whole thing can be over. I promise you that.” He said. Finn just looked at him and led him to his office acting as if only Tommy was there.

He knocked twice waiting for his answer.

“Tommy, Mr. Changretta is here.” He said, waiting for his response.

“Send him in.” Tommy said. Finn came in and quickly stood in front of the door where the women were, reaching for the gun in his coat.

Luca and 3 men walked in, looking Arthur and John up and down as they sized everyone up with their eyes. His lips curling into a sinister smile as the toothpick stuck out of his mouth.

“I have a bone to pick with Finn’s girlfriend. She stood me up...broke my heart really. I could’ve made her night if she woulda let me.” He said, watching as Finn’s face turned into a mask of anger. He’d never been one to keep his facial expressions in check.

“I’m sorry that happened, we were none the wiser, we were going to the warehouse just now.” Tommy said, staring blankly.

“If you didn’t know about her then you would’ve been at the warehouse like we planned.” Luca said.

“Correct. But she didn’t return. We don’t know where she’s gone so that pushed us back.” He lied.

“She’s as smart as she is beautiful, and I told her to go home but I know she came here. I’ll kill her, you’ll see.” He said, walking towards the door to go look around.

“Why else are you here Changretta? You could be out finding Y/N yourself but instead you’re here. My brothers and I were just about to go deal with this business before heading home.” He said, John yawned as if on cue as he rocked back on his heels impatiently.

“If you’re not going to tell me then I’ll have to find her myself.” He said stepping towards Finn.

“Aren’t you here because you wanted to kill the family? Not just Y/N? You served us all a black hand after all.” Finn questioned, pointing his gun at Luca’s chest.

He smirked and turned towards Tommy as he nodded at his men, clearly not afraid of Finn’s gun. The three men lunged for Arthur as John cocked his gun, aiming at one of the men and shooting him in the head.

Tommy went towards one of the others who almost tackled John as Luca taunted Finn against the door.

Arthur tackled the first man down, wrestling the gun out of his hand as a bullet grazed his shoulder, Linda silently cringed in the other room at the sound of her husband in pain.

“You really thought you could take us down?” Finn yelled over the noise, shoving Luca back with the gun.

“I can, and you’ll be glad you’re dead if I tell you what I’d do to her-“ He started to say before Finn landed a punch to his face, sending him back a couple feet.

“You talk too much.” He said, going towards Luca again.

Luca smirked as Finn looked to the side briefly to see Tommy pulling a gun at the man he’d tackled. With one shot the second man was down, leaving John wrestling down the last one.

Tommy quickly ran to where Finn was and hit Luca in the back of the head with the butt of his gun, causing him to fall back against his desk, blood dotting various papers as he fell.

“Finn, go help John.” He said, before punching Luca in the face once again.

Finn shakily held the gun as he aimed at the man who was now landing punch’s to his brothers face, and shot, the sound of his body hitting the ground still causing a shiver down his spine despite him killing before.

As he stood there he heard a muffled cry coming from inside the room as he knew Y/N was watching through the cracks of the blinds, but was soon snapped back to reality as Tommy yelled out in pain.

Luca lowered his gun as he saw Tommy fall back, clutching his arm tightly.

He raised it at Finn, the blood dripping down his face and clouding his eyes as he aimed for the young blinder.

But suddenly the door opened, and Y/N came out pointing her hand gun at Luca, a tear rolling down her cheek as she did so.

“Get back Y/N. Go.” Finn said as he tried to shield her as Luca raised the gun up more, on the verge of shooting.

A shot rang out from behind Finn as Luca’s head rocked back at the impact, his body going limp as the bullet passed through his skull.

It was eerily silent after that. Finn’s ears rang as did hers as he realized he would’ve been dead if she had listened to him when he told her to go back.

Finn quickly took the gun from her and Tommy crawled over Luca’s body to check the pulse, smirking as he looked up at Y/N.

“Nice shot. How’d you get the gun?” He asked, walking towards her.

“Polly gave it to me. Told me to point and shoot.” She said, wiping a tear from her eye.

“Alright.” He said, walking over to the door and telling the others they could come out.

John and Arthur got to dragging the bodies out back, while Polly and the other women tiptoed over the blood and back to the lobby.

Finn followed them out and left Y/N standing there for a bit, staring at the blood coating Tommy’s floor.

“It feels weird the first time killing someone, you’ll get used to it.” He said, tying a tourniquet on his arm before going to clean some of the blood off his desk.

“Um...Polly said something about this being my first day. Am I to work for you now? I-I don’t know what I’d do.” She said pulling her tattered coat around herself.

“Yes. You can start tomorrow actually. Take the empty desk out there.” He said, referring to the one she worked at earlier in the day.

She nodded and walked towards the door, her hands shaking from the days events.

“Oh and Y/N?” Tommy said, grabbing a cloth from a drawer.

“If it makes things any better, I trust you just as much as Finn does. You’ll fit in here, just go easy on him eh?” He said, a small smirk playing at his usually stoic lips.

“I’ll try.” She said smirking and closing the door behind her.

“Y/N you ready to go home?” Finn called out over everyone talking. She looked around at what would be her new work, and ultimately her new family. Linda was cleaning Arthur’s arm, and John and Esme were making out on her desk. Meanwhile Polly and Ada were tidying up the place.

“Yeah.” She sighed, walking to him and putting her arm around his waist as he led her out into the cool night air.

“Does that cut hurt?” He asked, once in the car.

“Yeah, but I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.” She said, giving him a kiss before they drove off to her apartment. It was only mere hours ago that she was struggling to earn his family’s trust, and now she had it, and she knew she had to keep it no matter what.

Finn Shelby Tag List:

(If you’d like to be added/removed, just shoot me an ask/message!) :)

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songtoyou · 3 years

Text

Tempting Fate - Part Five

Paring: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Nothing major, but there is lots of smoking, particularly marijuana.

Word Count: 2,098

Story Summary: Tommy is not a believer in fate or destiny. However, a new resident in Small Heath will question his beliefs and push his boundaries outside his comfort zone.

A/N: Remember, this story takes place during season two of the show. May Carleton makes an appearance in this chapter. Once again, I included Romani phrases in this chapter. I found the phrase online and hope it is correct. If it isn’t, then I am profoundly sorry and do not wish to offend anyone. That is never my intent. Remember, there is no Grace or Greta in this fic. They do not exist in the realm of this alternate universe.

Please do not post any of my fics to other sites without my permission.

Tag list: @owenniasstars

You did not know what you and Tommy were to each other. The terms “boyfriend” and “girlfriend” didn’t seem right as it was too mundane and basic. However, you and Tommy had grown a little be closer after you both apologized for miscommunicating with one another. Tommy would often walk you home at night after work and stay the night. It became routine for you to wake up next to him in the morning, which was nice and comforting.

For Tommy, being with you was nothing he had ever experienced before. Before the war, he would go on dates every once in a while, but nothing ever lasted longer than a week or two. After the war, it was all one-night stands or nights spent at whore houses. However, with you, it was all new for him. There was something about being with you that Tommy could not quite describe the feeling until Polly coaxed it out of him.

“Safe. Thomas, you feel safe for the first in a long time. Being with this girl will change your life for the better. She is good for you. The two of you will balance one another, her lightness with your darkness. However, there is a darkness in her as well, just as I can see the light in you, my dear nephew. But make no mistake, it is still in you to do some good in this world. Let her help,” Polly explained one day while Tommy was in his office.

Leaning back in his chair, Tommy could nothing but agree with his aunt, “I know that Pol. Part of me is terrified.” He went on to tell Aunt Polly that he didn’t want to “ruin” you or get you hurt, but Polly waved him off.

“Tommy, she can take care of herself. As a gypsy, she has seen things in her life, just like you. Remember, you said it yourself. She is you. And you are her. You are each other’s match.”

One thing about being connected to Tommy was that people around Small Heath treated you differently. The women smiled at you more, while the men tipped their hats to you and greeted you with “mam” or “miss.” It was all new to you.

Even the male patrons at the bar treated you differently. No longer did they affectionately give you a hard time or joke around with you. They maintained their distance but were respectful. You particularly noticed how the men made sure to act accordingly around you whenever Tommy stopped by The Garrison. It was the same when John and Arthur were around.

You were in the back room of the bar when Esme stopped by one afternoon. She greeted you with a hug and kiss on the cheek. “Let’s go for a walk down by the Cut, yeah,” Esme suggested. “It is slow out there. I am sure Harry could give you a break.”

“Okay. Let me finish up these last few glasses, then we can head out,” You replied to the woman who was quickly becoming your best friend. You were thankful to have Esme around. She was another person you could confide in. Esme reminded you of your sisters back home and how much you missed them. You pushed the homesick feeling aside and finished cleaning the last bar glass. Wiping your hands on your apron, Esme followed you to the front of the bar.

You told Harry that you were taking your break. “Harry, I won’t be gone too long, okay.”

“Take your time, dear. I don’t think I’ll be expecting a rush anytime soon,” said Harry wiping down the tables.

While the two you walked arm-in-arm, Esme asked how you were holding up now that you were considered Tommy’s “girl” and all. “I’m not his girl, Esme,” you laughed off your friend’s accusation.

Esme rolled her eyes. “Don’t act naïve now, my dear friend. You are Tommy’s girl. Everyone knows it. He better be treating you right. If he doesn’t, I’ll cut his balls right off.”

“So, far so good. He has been very…I don’t know…” you began but stopped to try to collect your thoughts.

“What?” Esme asked.

“It is like there are two sides to Tommy, you know: public Tommy and private Tommy,” you began to explain. “In public, Tommy is always guarded, which I get. He has to be with what he does. However, when it is the two of us alone, he is something else. He is so sweet and gentle. He smiles more too. And laughs. Tommy has the cutest laugh I have ever heard. So delightful to the ears.”

Esme smiled at her friend and said, “I have never once heard Tommy laugh. Didn’t even know he could do such a thing.”

“So, when are you and John any closer to expanding your family? Lord knows you both like the activity that goes with procreation.”

“Not yet. But hopefully soon. The kids are looking forward to having another brother or sister in the mix. I’m lucky, you know. I was worried that John’s children wouldn’t accept when we got married. I was worried that I would never be able to live up to Martha as a wife or mother,” Esme revealed to you as the two of you finally reached the Cut.

Sitting on a box crate, Esme sat down beside you. She pulled out a rolled cannabis cigarette and began to light it. Coughing out a puff, she passed the joint over to you. “John loves you very much, Esme. The kids adore you. Why wouldn’t they? You are so much fun, so sweet, caring, and they will always have your back. Kids have pure hearts. They can sense when someone is a good person, and you fit the bill. You’re special, my dear. Everyone is lucky to grace your presence sees what a wonderful woman you are.”

Blushing, Esme looked down at her feet. “You could give John a run for his money with the way you can talk a woman up.”

You chuckled and took in a puff. The effects of the rolled cannabis were setting in and making you feel relax and calm. It was a nice feeling. The two of you sat in comfortable silence while passing the joint back and forth.

You and Esme turned heads when commotion came from Charlie’s Yard. “I wonder what is going on over there?” you wondered aloud and handed Esme the joint. “I’m going to go check it out. You want to come along?”

“Nah, I better get back to the house,” said Esme and stubbed out the joint and put it in her pocket. “See you later.”

You waved goodbye and walked over to Charlie’s. You saw him and Curly with Pyramus. Instantly, you saw the horse was agitated. You picked up your speed to reach the horse.

“Hey, what is going on? Is he okay?” you asked, concerned for Pyramus’s well-being.

Charlie told you that they were getting Pyramus ready for transport, but the horse was not up for it.

“I told you it wasn’t a good idea,” Curly mumbled. “He doesn’t want to leave, Charlie.”

Charlie merely sighed, “Curly, the horse will be fine. He is stubborn as usual, like his owner.”

“May I?” you asked Charlie. When he gave you an okay, you reached out to Pyramus and began rubbing his muzzle. “It’s okay, boy. You’re going to okay. Rum tum bi Salama (Go in peace),” you said to Pyramus softly. “Si tut bocklo? (Are you hungry?)”

You turned to Curly and asked he had any treats for Pyramus. “It might help him calm down. He loves apples or carrots,” you told him.

“I might have some around. I’ll be back,” said Curly and left to retrieve the treats.

You continued to pet Pyramus, which seemed to help calm him for the time being. It only got better when Curly returned with an apple, which you began to cut up for Pyramus to eat. “He seems to be more relaxed.”

All of a sudden, an extra pair of footsteps could be heard approaching. You could make out Tommy’s voice not too far, but there was another voice with him. A feminine voice. One you had not heard before. You quickly turned around to see Tommy walking with a beautiful woman. From the looks of her clothes, you could tell she was wealthy.

When Tommy saw you with Pyramus, he smiled at you and introduced you to the woman, May Carleton. She would be the one to train Pyramus. You shook her hand and offered a ‘hello.’ She went up the horse and began petting him along with you.

You told her that Pyramus tended to respond well with treats when stressed. May smiled at you. “He is a beautiful horse. Overly sweet, but he will make a good racehorse,” May remarked and turned back to Tommy. “The timeline you want the horse ready for Epsom is not much, but I can get him ready.”

You didn’t care for how May only referred to Pyramus as “the horse.” It was like she only viewed him as a job and not one of God’s best creatures. You looked over at Pyramus, and he was happily chomping away at his apple. He was too innocent for a life as a racehorse. The last thing you wanted was for Pyramus to be broken. You could feel the panic start to rise in your chest and your breath start to quicken. You didn’t know if it was anxiety or the joint you just smoked making you feel that way.

“Tommy,” you spoke up and got his attention. You motioned with your hand for him to follow, which he obliged. When the two of you were away from the others, you spoke your concerns. “How much do you know about this May Carleton? Is she trustworthy? What are her methods for training a horse?” you went on, but Tommy silenced you by placing a kiss on your lips.

When Tommy retreated, he cupped your face and looked at you with adoring eyes. “Pyramus will be taken care of, I promise. I would not send him away if I didn’t know that he would be treated well. May’s family has a long history of training racehorses. She knows what she is doing.”

You breathed a sigh of relief at Tommy’s reassurance. Now you felt silly. “I’m sorry for worrying. You probably think I’m childish,” you expressed quietly, looking down at the ground.

Tommy touched your chin to make you look at him directly. His blue eyes always left you breathless. You could drown in them if you stared too long. No amount of alcohol, cannabis, opium, or other drugs could compare to Tommy Shelby’s effects on you. He was addicting. He was handsome. He was dangerous. He was cruel. He was scary. He could also be kind and sweet-tempered. Tommy Shelby was an enigma. He would become a stain on your existence one way or another, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

“Sijoukar,” you said suddenly.

When Tommy asked who, you scoffed. “May. She is pretty. Don’t you think?”

“Hadn’t noticed.”

“Liar,” you teased. “Even I can admit she is gorgeous. It’s okay. I don’t mind if you think other women are attractive. It is part of human nature.”

With a smirk, Tommy wrapped his arms around you and gave you one last deep kiss. “You better get back to work. I’ll see you late tonight, and I’ll walk you home, yeah.”

He walked you towards the exit with his hand in yours. You waved goodbye to Curly and Charlie and gave a polite nod to May. You didn’t miss the brief look of disappointment on May’s face when she saw you and Tommy walk past her hand-in-hand. You smirked when you passed the woman.

“I’ll tell you what, how about after a couple of weeks, we go visit Pyramus? See how he is doing and all. You and me, together,” suggested Tommy as you both neared the Yard’s exit.

“Really?” you asked, bewildered at Tommy’s idea.

“Why not? It would be our first adventure together. What do you say?”

“I like that idea. Oh, think of a fun and trouble we could get into. I don’t think the world is ready for us, Mr. Shelby,” you laughed and wrapped your arms around Tommy’s shoulders.

Again, kissing you on the lips, Tommy leaned into your ear to whisper, “We are going to set the world on fire, love. You and me, love.”

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fic

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zodiyack · 4 years

Text

Changes Nothing

Requested by anon: I saw you write posts with male readers, so I was hoping you’d write this idea: Tommy Shelby’s son being gay??? I’d love to see what you come up with, i fucking love your writing!!!! 😘😘😘

Pairing: Thomas Shelby + Son!Shelby!Reader, Shelby + Gray Family + Nephew!Shelby!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, ADA BEING THE BEST AS USUAL, mention of homophobia, indications of smut, slight angst, I think that’s it

Words: 1699

Key: 'Cause I’m too lazy to think of a name, B/n = boy’s name or boyfriend’s name

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace, @simonsbluee, @peakysputain, @fandom-puff

Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

Y/n Shelby, the son of Thomas Shelby, was a person who kept to himself. It intrigued many residents of Small Heath, but few were lucky to learn why. His family didn’t even know, but they were to find out soon enough, one way or another.

He was handsome, smart, kind, practically had all of the young women wrapped around his finger. Only eighteen but brave enough to take on the world himself. It was a wonder to almost everyone how the Y/n Shelby had yet to find himself a woman.

The truth was, Y/n had an attraction to people the same sex as himself. And male on male relationships weren’t something a lot of people accepted, so Y/n kept his secret with his social life; if he didn’t talk to a whole lot of people, he didn’t have many people to tell.

Of course, it couldn’t have been that easy. He knew that. His whole family taught him that. When something seems to easy, there’s bound to be a price for it’s doing.

Steal a car with no distraction or extra people required? Someone’ll find out soon. That or, you’ll crash or something. Why? Because there is always, always, a price.

No price had shown up so far, and it was making Y/n nervous, anxious even. Y/n had a lover now, for months, and they were doing alright. No one found out, no one hurt them, it was completely fine. But they’d both be lying if they said neither of them was worried.

They hadn’t even came out to their families! Y/n was the one with the most to lost in this situation, the most to be scared about. What if-

“Y/n?” Tommy snapped his son out of his trance-like-state. “I’ll be going somewhere with your uncles. Here’s some money,” he dropped said money into his hand, “ask Pol if you need anything. I’ll call you when I get to where I need to be, alright?”

“Yes sir, I understand.” Y/n smiled at his father, gripping the money tightly. He walked over and gave him a hug, “Bye, dad.”

“Goodbye, son. I’ll call you, so be ready!” Tom was running out the door, yelling to his oldest child as he approached the car. The two waved to each other until the car took off.

Right after the vehicle was out of sight, Y/n raced to the phone, dialing the one number he’d been waiting all week to call. “Y/n?” The voice of his beloved came through.

“B/n! Is he gone?”

“Yes, he’ll be gone for a while. Can you come over?” They talked for a few minutes, speeding through their conversation with excitement. He was eager to have his lover over after not being able to for so long. It was almost a full two months since they’d been together, the lack of intimacy being no exception.

So there they were, together after a small, quick, phone-call. In bed, lying with limbs tangled together, sweat slick on their bodies, a vulnerable moment for the two. A vulnerable sight to walk in on. And unfortunately, that’s just what happened.

Polly was just checking on Y/n, as he didn’t answer the phone like he’d promised. Tommy called her with worry, begging her to make sure his boy was okay. She argued, “he’s an adult now,” but he continued begging and begging, just needing to know his son was okay.

Opening the door to Y/n’s room, Polly released a gasp, widening her eyes upon the sight she had been greeted with. The two were covered, thankfully, but still found in the same bed, very obviously naked.

“P-Pol it’s not what it- um... it’s not what it looks-”

“I think it is what it looks like, Y/n. And I think your guest should leave so you can explain to your father that this is why you missed his call when he returns.” Her eyes were still wider than Y/n had ever seen them and her breathing was off due to the unintentional scare.

Y/n clasped his hands over his face. “Fuck...” He’d forgotten about the call.

“S-sorry.” B/n kept his head down as he slid his trousers on, grabbing the rest of his clothes when he got off the bed, and ran past Polly to get to the front door.

“Pol-”

“No. Don’t ‘Pol’ me right now. This is... you have no idea how.. how... how frightened your father was when you didn’t pick up! He demanded I come to check on you and this is what I see!”

“Are you ashamed?”

Polly blinked. “What?”

“Are you ashamed of me? Your great-nephew being a homosexual?”

“I-” She inhaled sharply, “I’m more disappointed in the fact that you didn’t trust us enough to let us know. Aside from that, I can’t think right now. Meet us in the family room when Tom arrives.” Polly closed the door behind herself, walking down to the same room she spoke of.

Y/n sighed, his head hitting the bed behind him with a soft ‘thud’. How was he going to explain this to his father?

“So, Pol says you have something to tell us.” Tommy sat down, confused due to his lack of information on the matter.

“I um...”

Polly, from the seat next to Y/n, rested her hand over Y/n’s. “You don’t have to tell them about that quite yet. Do that on your own time. For now, just explain the reason why you missed the call however you please, alright?” She whispered into his ear, expressing her change of heart since the last few hours.

“No...I have to.” He smiled at his great-aunt. “The secret’s out anyways.”

“What secret are you talking about, Y/n?” Thomas furrowed his eyebrows, laced with uncertainty.

“Well...I missed your call because I had someone over-”

“Your boy’s finally done it!” Arthur cheered, raising his drink with John, the two chaotically drunk as always. “See, Tom, told you it couldn’t’ve been bad!”

Thomas studied his son, the hesitation still present on his expression. “No. Let him finish.”

“But- he just-”

“Arthur. Tommy’s right, there’s something else, I can see it too.” Ada rested her hand on her nephew’s shoulder. The look in her eyes was heartbreaking, causing Y/n’s heart to speed up faster than it already was. He couldn’t cope if he’d hurt his family, let alone his sweet aunt, the most supportive of the bunch.

“I...It wasn’t with a girl.” He waited, allowing the sentence to be processed by each person. “It was with a-”

“Another male.” Tommy looked at the ground.

“Shit...” Arthur and John stopped celebrating, sobering almost immediately if it were possible.

The three remained quiet. Silence created the worst tension Y/n had ever felt, and he had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last. Until Ada interrupted, cutting it with words like scissors.

“Could you three just get over yourselves already! Y/n has just told us something that he obviously has had a lot of trouble telling another person! Something he trusts us with, and all you do is be quiet?” She scoffed at her brothers, standing up and walking to her nephew. “Come, love.”

Sitting on his bed, Y/n told his aunt about his boyfriend. The stuff he loved about him, what he was like, how much he loved him. Ada felt special, for the first time, over joyed with how close she’d gotten to her nephew in just a few minutes.

“Ada?”

“Yes, Y/n?”

He kept his head down, similar to his father’s in the family room. “Do you think my dad hates me?”

“No... I think it’s just taking him time to process... you know? A bit hard for him to process in a couple minutes. You’re his son, someone he loves more than anything in the world, and to learn something that big... he loves you, okay?” Y/n looked at Ada, the tears starting to stream down her cheeks creating an ache in his heart.

He didn’t respond. Instead, he pulled his aunt in for a hug. When they pulled away, he thought for a second, “Do you, support me, aunt Ada? Even if my dad doesn’t?”

“Do I support you? I had a gay roommate, Y/n! ...Of course I... Your father and that man, they worked together at one point. He didn’t care that he liked men. So that’s why I have complete faith that Tom will come around. I promise, we all love you, so so much.”

“She’s not wrong.” Y/n and Ada’s heads turned towards the door. Tommy walked in, hand in his pockets and a small smile on his lips.

“How long have you been-”

“Long enough. Ada, can I please I have a moment with my son?”

She nodded, hugging Y/n one more time before standing to leave. As she walked past Thomas, she leaned next to him to whisper before she left the room completely. “If you hurt him in any way, I will not hesitate to invite him to live with me, nor will I think twice about ruining your fucking life, Tom.”

“Y/n... I admit, it’s hard to process, but your aunt is right. Yes, you’re attracted to males, sexually and romantically, and yes, it’s is a hard thing for me to think about-”

Y/n rolled his eyes, thinking it was going to be the same old “subtly-homophobic” talk parents these days gave their gay children, but Tommy caught on quickly, “but that changes nothing. Nothing in this world could make me hate you or stop loving you. You are my son. You like men? So be it. Invite him to a family dinner next week if you’d like-”

“Wait really?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?”

Y/n studied his father, smiling and hugging him tightly. Tommy’s smile returned, his arms mirroring his son’s movements and pulling his son into him.

The door creaked open, the two drunken uncles ready to say the same when they, and Polly, saw the father-son moment. The hug bringing a smile to Pol’s face as it did to Tommy and Y/n’s. She hushed her nephews as she shooed them from the room and closed the door, listening as the words left Tommy’s mouth again and again.

“This changes nothing.”

Supportive Ada comes back to defend the gays again! I love her so fucking much oh my god- anyways! How do you guys feel about a series? I know it may sound funny at first, but think about it; Ada being the cool aunt she is with her gay nephew?

Feel free to send ideas! And speaking of sending ideas- feel free to send some requests for Elizabeth!

Also like- listen- if Ada isn’t a lesbian, bi or pan, curious, or any part of the LGBTQ+ community, she’s an ally. Like, it’s the truth- and it’s cannon

✘ Bowie

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spiralhigh · 3 years

Text

ranking the sdr2 cast by how much their formal wear hits

this is just my opinion, but my opinions are great and i know what i’m talking about! this will be long so it’s under a cut

S TIER:

s tier is reserved for only the best of them all, the cream of the crop, the fit that i would gladly lay down my life for. s tier is the crown jewel. s tier is what everyone else should strive to be... but only one can take the prize.

#1: AKANE OWARI

the undisputed champion. this look is everything to me. EVERYTHING. the red-trim cape with the fur. the contrast of the airy, gathered blouse with those skin-tight shiny (leather? vinyl??) pants. the pumps. the belt that screams disco style. the necklace accentuating the tasteful titty window. the red white and gold color scheme are you FUCKING WITH ME miss owari this look could bring ARMIES to their KNEES in an INSTANT. whoever drew this deserves full creative control of the danganronpa franchise and i’m not kidding

A TIER:

a tier is for the fits that frankly own bones. they’re not as jaw-dropping and legendary as owari, but they’re still razor as hell and deserve to be met with riotous applause.

#2: KAZUICHI SOUDA

kazuichi, i didn’t know you had it in you, but this FUCKS. the character of the pins on the lapels, the sneakers, and the mispinned tie. the absolute CLASS of the suspenders, watch, and tiny round glasses. the handsome slick in the hair now that the greasy beanie is gone. the tasteful highwater. he looks like the host of the larry king show if the larry king show was exclusively about ska bands and he has never looked better

#3: HIYOKO SAIONJI

tell me this isn’t the cutest shit. the colors here are EXQUISITE. the bright notes from the blue on top, the way the soft pink is a perfect middle ground of the pink + white flowers on her sleeves, the subtle way the green in her bow matches the green in her collar, the white petals breaking up the sky blue that might otherwise look out of place? remarkable. stunning.

#4: PEKO PEKOYAMA

the ELEGANCE is EVERYTHING here. the monochrome is offset by just a splash of red that ties everything together with her eyes and the flower in her hair, the checkerboard pattern is visually interesting but not distracting, and her hair in that loose ponytail with the little white ribbon? ugh. ADORABLE! but most of all, look at those BOOTS. those CUTE LITTLE HEELS on those SICK LACE-UP BOOTS..... QUEEN shit!!!

#5: CHIAKI NANAMI

rounding out our a tier is chiaki in this adorable little dress just LOOK at her!!! she looks like a little rose, a perfect flouncy skirt with a glittery mesh overlay, a fun and fresh over-the-shoulder collar, a fucking big old bow tied in the back?? i can literally feel the way this dress would feel in my hands. it’s simple and perfect and frankly a GORGEOUS color on her this is flawless

B TIER:

b tier is a perfectly respectable place to be. these fits lack the lustre and flavor of the a tier entries, but they’re still dressed to impress and they still look fine as hell.

#6: TERUTERU HANAMURA

say what you will about teruteru (and i do) but this suit is ADORABLE and it fits in with his theme + talent better than any other mfer on this list. the tasteful white/brown/red palette gives it a flashy chocolate cookie look, which is amplified in the fun pattern on the jacket. the chef’s hat switching out for a little top hat and the way the cumberbund looks a lil bit like a chocolate bar is also VERY cute

#7: THE IMPOSTOR

now on its own, the suit is just alright. a vibrant pinstripe blue three-piece with the classic red tie wouldn’t land the impostor in b tier on its own... but that FUR COAT, LUXURIOUSLY DRAPED OVER THE SHOULDERS does WONDERS to pull this look together. not only is it worn with “yeah, it’s real mink, no, you can’t touch it” confidence, but it also ties the otherwise arbitrary white loafers into the structure of the look. it’s subtle and class as hell.

C TIER

c tier is full of looks that are... fine, but ultimately either are boring, lack cohesion, or have a confusing design choice or two that make it hard to get all that amped about. c tier is a passing grade, but nothing more.

#8: NAGITO KOMAEDA

there’s a lot that’s good about this outfit, but there’s also a lot that doesn’t really work. let’s start with the good: the slutty loose bowtie and collar, the tight-fitting vest that ends before the hipbones so you can see the belt, the cute little ponytail? (chefs kiss) exquisite, all of it. but the suit itself is boring as sing, and who the hell decided to put the t-shirt symbol on the sleeves??? was it to add visual flavor to an otherwise bland suit? this does NOT have the black/white/red elegance that peko had.

#9: FUYUHIKO KUZURYUU

the silver and gold mob-boss look, complete with matching shoes vest and fedora, are a nice nod to fuyuhiko’s talent! the plaid is teetering on the edge between fun and garish to me, but the fact that it’s consistent and the only pattern means it isn’t too offensive. quick question though: why are his pant legs rolled up like that?? this isn’t a cute “cuffed at the ankle” look, dude looks like he had to wade across a pond to get to the venue. what gives

#10: GUNDAM TANAKA

out of everyone here, gundam’s suit might be the most boring of all. the scarf is just his normal scarf. the red tie and trim don’t do anything to tie the look together. the only mild point of interest is the asymmetrical vest, and i can’t even tell if that’s intentional. simply put, this “““fancy”““ outfit isn’t even in the same ZIP CODE as the level of ostentatious chuuni that gundam serves us every single day in his casual wear. maybe even worse than being ugly... it’s disappointing.

#11: IBUKI MIODA

now, look. is this dress buckwild and ugly as hell? yes. but you know what else it is? it is IBUKI MIODA’S DRESS. there might not be a single cohesive thing about this dress aside from its color scheme. the huge poofy ruffles of the skirt and arm things with the spiked bow and corset are baffling. the artist somehow managed to draw the awkward, clumping shape of the skirt to make it look exactly like an emergency cosplay sewn four hours before a convention. frankly, i can’t justify ranking it as a c! but i’m doing it anyway, because the sheer level of craftsmanship demands it, and in this house we respect diy queens that are totally off the shits.

D TIER:

d tier is for outfits that aren’t offensive, exactly... but like, they sure don’t look good! d tier is not a respectable place to be. those in d tier won’t be laughed out of the ceremony in shame, but they should really run their outfit by someone else first next time.

#12: NEKOMARU NIDAI

now don’t get me wrong: i have nothing but respect for the titties-out look. keeping the shirt unbuttoned all the way down to where the lapels of the jacket end? that’s sexy as hell. however, this flawless idea has a confusing execution. why emerald green and orange? what’s with the... long-sleeved printed (hawaiian?) shirt? why the red pocket square? and the jacket itself, while fitted perfectly along the chest and midsection, has a weird, unflattering scallop shape flaring out at the bottom. i want to like this fit, but there are just too many bad choices.

#13: HAJIME HINATA

oh, hajime... literally nothing about this ensemble is it. the creamy manila suit might have had potential if there were literally any color variation in the vest (or potentially shoes) to give it a little more shape, or even if you just went with a white shirt underneath it! i could get behind a light, off-monochrome look! but that leprechaun-green shirt is downright perplexing to me. it looks like a mistake! did you get dressed in the dark? did you spill something on your other shirt? this is a mess.

F TIER:

f tier is inexcusable. f tier should never have happened. how does it get this bad. who did this? who’s responsible for this?

#14: SONIA NEVERMIND

y’know, the colors are pretty! i dig the white and teal! but... girl... what the fuck is this construction. the ruffles are all over the place. the bodice looks like it has less fabric than space it needs to cover. the bottom half of the skirt looks like it was sewn on as an afterthought because the top half was too short for dress code. what’s with the weird choker collar detached from everything else. why is the hairband a slightly different shade of green. so many decisions were made here and none of them are flattering

#15: MAHIRU KOIZUMI

yknow, i like the idea behind this. i can see what you were going for! the dress on its own might have worked, even! but everything else about it is just... so ugly. what the fuck is happening with those shoes??? the sheer black tights aren’t the sexy OL look you think they are. the collar of the dress looks like it’s... braided for some reason??? those earrings are so huge for no payoff, statement jewelry with nothing to say, and worst of all... that headband. GIRL. that headband and that belt...... there’s nothing here. also i love orange but it’s not her color.

and finally... the worst.

#16: MIKAN TSUMIKI

what the fuck. what the fuck is this. this is straight up cheap rubber fetish gear. why is the HAT rubber? that skirt ruffle makes this look like fucking polly pocket clothes. why the fuck is she wearing that. the clothes are so bad that it makes her hair look like rubber too. was she dared to wear this? is this some cruel punishment? i don’t even know what to say. this is the worst possible outfit. there is not even one redeeming quality about it.

#danganronpa #sdr2 #new tab

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pennylanefics · 4 years

Text

Different - Michael Gray | pt. 2

a/n: not super happy with how this turned out, but oh well :/

•••

You’ve been at your parents’ for a few days now, with no letter or call from Michael. After that night that you finally stood up to him, you thought everything would blow over. Unfortunately, he didn’t understand that you still needed a break.

With how things went, you weren’t sure if you were still together. The following morning, when you were making breakfast for yourself, Michael didn’t say a word, nor did he even spare you a glance. It was heartbreaking, knowing that things had lightened up just a bit before he suddenly turned.

“Honey?” Your mother calls from the kitchen. You were lounging on the couch, reading, while she made dinner for the two of you. Your father was out of town, sadly, but you still enjoyed spending time with just your mom.

“Yeah?”

“How’s Michael? Why didn’t he come with you?” You freeze, your book falling into your lap. You hadn’t exactly told your mom that Michael is the reason you’re here. You didn’t want her stressing out and worrying over your relationship.

“Um, he just had some things for work that he couldn’t get out of. And he’s been good. Stressed, but good.”

“I can’t imagine running that business with Tommy. He has to be overworked and surrounded by negative influences.”

“Mum, don’t.”

“No. I hate that he’s a Blinder and involved with those awful men.”

“Those awful men are his family. He’s been lied to his entire life, so the fact that he can finally be who he really is and be with his real family is more important than who they are. And why does it matter if he’s involved?”

“Because it means he’s dangerous.”

“He’s never shown any reason to lead me to believe he is.”

“Really? He’s never come home with a bloody hand, bruised face, busted lip?”

“I mean, yeah, but-”

“That’s it. You need to get out of this relationship.” You were taken aback. You weren’t expecting this conversation to go this way, and you sure as hell didn’t expect your own mother to tell you to break things off in your own relationship.

“What?”

“I don’t want you around him anymore. He’s corrupted, he’s getting to be like a second Tommy, and I don’t want you becoming like them.”

“You know I would never be like them! What are you even saying, mum!”

“Come back home. It’s been so nice having you here again and I can tell you’re so much more relaxed than when you arrived.”

“As much as I love living in the prairie, my life is with Michael now. Though I’m not sure if he feels the same way.” This catches your mother’s attention quickly as you curse to yourself for slipping up.

“What did he do?”

“It’s nothing, really. Please just leave it.”

“Tell me.” You stand, ignoring her, and walk right outside to the front yard. You hear her calling for you, but you run to your favorite hideout spot, a place you often visited with Michael.

You relax there for a while, though your brain was running faster than ever. You were going back and forth, between city life and prairie life, living with Michael and living with your parents. Finally, you came to the decision that you wanted.

“I’m going to head back into the city,” you tell your mother after walking back into your old home. As much as you missed the countryside, you missed Michael more. And even though he possibly doesn’t want you there, you were willing to see him again. You needed to fix things.

“What? Why?”

“Because I’d rather be miserable and surrounded by violence with Michael than to be reminded that my own mother wanted to force me to break up with the only man I’ve ever loved.” With that, you head upstairs and pack your things before walking to your car and driving the long way back to Birmingham.

You arrive back at your place late at night, fully expecting Michael to be away, drinking with his family or doing some sort of business. But no. Surprisingly, Michael was sat in a chair in the sitting room, Polly standing near the fireplace as she talked to him.

“Oh hi, darling,” she says when her eyes land on you. Michael quickly whips his head around, his eyes wide and in shock.

“Hi,” you whisper. Polly smiles and sets her tea cup down, saying that she’ll be in the kitchen. Michael stands and shoves his hands in his pockets.

“You came back,” he says. You nod shyly and fold your hands in front of you.

“Yeah. Um, I guess I missed it here.”

“That’s a surprise considering days ago you were going on about how much you hated it here.”

“I was upset over the fact that I felt neglected in our relationship. I still love you, Michael, I just didn’t feel loved back.”

“That’s bullshit. I told you I still loved you yet you still ran off to your parents.”

“Because I needed a break to see them and just get a breather!”

“Then why didn’t you stay, huh!? I’m sure as hell doing a lot better without you!” Well, that hurt.

“I came back because I realized that I’d rather be with you in a shitty city than to be without you in the countryside!” This shuts him up. He knows how much you love back home and just being among the fields and flowers.

“What?”

“I did a lot of thinking and I realized that I was longing for you every night I was there. I went to sleep imagining you were holding me, and when I went out to our favorite spot, I imagined you were right next to me.”

“You obviously didn’t miss me too much since you were itching to get away from me when we were together.” You groan out in frustration but continue to fight.

“You keep thinking these things based on nothing! I told you it wasn’t personal that I wanted to go back home for a bit, I told you I still loved you, yet you stand here and accuse me of all the opposite things! I don’t get you, Michael! Maybe my mother was right.” He raises his eyebrows and stares in confusion.

“Right about what?”

“She told me I needed to break up with you. And right now, I really think I should listen to her.” Without saying another word to Michael, or letting him reach out for you, you walk out of the sitting room and head to the kitchen to talk to Polly.

“What is it, dear?” She asks as you take a seat across from her at the table.

“What’s up with Michael lately? I don’t understand why he’s not listening to me or getting anything I say.”

“He’s been...quite stressed with work. Tommy’s on his back abou a new client and he’s feeling pressured. He’s been awful to us as well. Won’t listen to a word we say, if we do say something, he twists it into what he thinks he’s hearing.”

“Yes, that’s what he did with me. Everything I said, he said the opposite or something I wasn’t even thinking. It’s frustrating and annoying.”

“Don’t take it personal, love. I know he cares for you and he just needs to step back from work and realize that you care for him as well.”

“That’s what he said he was going to do, but then he blew up about how I still wanted to go back home for a bit.”

“I talked with Tommy and the others and they agreed to give him some time off, at least until he becomes bearable to be around.” You giggle and look down at your hands, nervously twiddling them.

“I really do love him, Polly. I don’t know why he doesn’t see it.” Unbeknownst to you, Michael had followed you and was listening to your conversation with Polly right outside the doorway. His heart breaks at the tone of your voice and the amount of hurt in it.

“He knows it, darling. He was telling me how he’s scared to lose you. He wanted you to come back and wanted you to come to Tommy’s wedding.”

“Well he just told me he was doing better without me and he wished I stayed back home.” Just then, Michael appears, tears in his eyes.

“I said that shit because I came to terms with the fact that you weren’t coming back and I was trying to move on. I was trying to convince myself that I am better off without you, but in reality, I’m not. I’ve been drinking more, I’ve been smoking more, I’ve been sleeping less and thinking of you so much.”

Polly sighs and stands, leaving the room once again. You chuckle quietly at her reaction to it but that smile quickly drops when you’re left alone with Michael again.

“I don’t understand you, Michael. I don’t know what you want from me, I don’t know what you want in this relationship anymore. Tell me.” He kneels in front of you, asking for your hand in his, which you cautiously give him.

“I love you so much, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I want to be with you, I want you with me, and I want us to work. I promise to start making you feel more loved and more appreciated, I promise not to let work get in the way of us, and I promise to never make you feel like you aren’t welcome here.”

“All I ask is you treat me like a girlfriend and not just some roommate you come home to.”

“All I ask is that you marry me.” Your entire body freezes as Michael stares at you, seriousness in his eyes.

“I love you with my entire heart. And I do need to be a better lover. So what better way to prove my love than to ask you to spend the rest of our lives together?”

“Do you really want this?” You wonder. “Because if you’re just doing this to prove that you love me, there’s lesser things, more short term things you can do.” Michael then produces a box from his pants pocket, opening it to reveal a beautiful diamond ring; a ring you noticed a few months back while walking past a jewelry shop.

“I do. I want you to be my wife, I want you here with me, every single day, even when we fight. I want to be able to come home to you, reading a book or writing, and I want you to be the one to mother my children. Our children.” Tears spring to your eyes as he goes on about all the things he’s imagined while you were away.

“So?” He asks after you’ve been silent for a little.

“Yes,” you whimper out as everything hits you. A huge smile appears on Michael’s face as he takes the ring from the box and slides it onto your hand. Within seconds, you are up out of your seat and throwing yourself into his arms, now that he’s standing.

“I love you,” you cry out, pulling back to kiss him deeply.

“Still thinking about what your mum said?” He cheekily asks, though you can tell there’s a hint of seriousness in it.

“No, not one bit.”

“Are you okay with moving away from the city, maybe to a nice house in the countryside, kind of like Tommy owns?”

“Tommy owns a huge manor, we are just two people,” you joke.

“Two people just for now. And I wasn’t thinking that big. My mum and I have been looking and Tommy offered to pay for a nice house that we could stay in forever. We’ve actually found one. It’s quite big as well, but not as big as Tommy’s; we’d be able to make it work.”

“Really? I thought with you being in the business and everything, you are needed in the city?”

“Tommy’s working some things out so I won’t be needed here all the time, he can send documents to me here and there.”

“You’d be willing to leave the city too?” Michael nods and pulls you close to him, his hands wrapping around your waist.

“For you, I’d move anywhere if it means we can be happy together,” he whispers, sending a shiver down your spine.

#michael gray #michael gray imagines #michael gray imagine #michael gray x reader #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

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ongaku-ato-kakikomi · 4 years

Note

okay I've got a better monster prom prompt. The love interests reuniting with their S/O's after being separated for years for one reason or another

(A/N): Thank you so much for requesting this! I’m sorry that it’s so short, but I had a lot of fun writing these! Hope you’ll like them <3

Miranda Vanderbilt:

You feel your eyes watering at the sight of her, a whimper getting stuck in your throat as soon as she approaches.

“Hello, dear.” She gives you a warm smile, her eyes looking at you with a mix of sadness and happiness. “It’s been quite a while, hasn’t it?”

She reaches for something around under her shirt, your eyes widening at the sight of her necklace as you remember. Shakily, your fingers grasp the one that is resting around your neck, pressing the half heart pendant between them. Miranda’s smile sweetens as she approaches hers to it, connecting the two halves at last.

“They still fit. Would you look at that?” She looks into your eyes, her head tilting at the number of tears falling onto your cheeks. “Oh, sweetheart… are you okay?”

She yelps when you throw your arms around for a tight hug, the princess staying shocked for a moment before she relaxes. She gives out a smile, her arms hugging your shaking body back.

“I’ve missed you too, (Y/N).”

Damien LaVey:

The sound of the doorbell leads you to the front door, a tired yawn escaping your mouth as you walk towards it. Who could want to see you in the middle night, you can only wonder, but if it must disrupt your sleep, you’re not going to ignore it. And so you open it, your hand rubbing the tiredness of your eyes before you set them on the person standing in front of you. You tense up from the shock of seeing him, your mind trying to grasp the idea that he’s really here.

How can it be possible? After all those years?

“... Damien?”

A cheeky smile appears on his lips, the demon prince shyly putting his hands into his jacket’s pocket. “Hey, hot stuff. Did you miss me?”

He gets his answer when you suddenly jump into his arms, your own wrapping tightly around his neck as you welcome him home.¸

Scott Howl:

“I can’t believe it… you’re here.” You watch Scott devour his hamburger from across the dinner table, a warm feeling swirling inside your chest. “After all those years, you’re finally here.”

Scott gives you a wide smile from his place, one of his hand engulfing yours as he puts the rest of his burger back onto his place. “I’m glad I finally found you! It’s been hard to do since I’ve lost your phone number…”

You give out a giggle, giving his hand a squeeze. “It’s okay. The important thing is that we’re together.”

“Yeah!” Your lips stretch out at the sight of him being so happy. “But hey, aren’t you hungry? Here, let me ask the waiter for (Your/Favorite/Meal).”

You blink in surprise, your eyes watering. “You still remember that?”

“Of course!” He looks back at you with a happy gleam in his eyes. “I remember everything about you!”

Your heart melts at those words, silently thanking the universe for letting you two meet again.

Liam De Lioncourt:

The last time you saw him, you agreed to meet at the exact same place you parted once in a few years, in the hope that you’ll be able to be together this time. You’ve constantly thought about it, wondered if he does too, your heart being more hopeful and hopeful every day.

But now, as you’re sitting at this bench, in this parc, still waiting for him to come after an hour has passed, you wonder if you shouldn’t have come. He’s not here, you don’t think he’ll arrive soon either, and if you didn’t come you wouldn’t feel your heart slowly shattering with each minute passing by.

You stand, a sigh escaping your lips. Maybe it’s time to go home.

“Leaving so soon?” You give out a gasp, turning around to see him standing a few feet away with a small smile. “Sorry that I’m late. I didn’t make you wait for too long, have I?”

“Yeah. Yeah, you did.” He chuckles at your honesty, his eyes warming as he watches you approach him. “But you’re here now…”

“... and that’s all that matters?” You take his hands in yours, his lips stretching out. “Such a cliché.”

“But you love it.”

“I do.” His thumb caresses your skin, his forehead touching yours in a loving matter. “And I’m never leaving you again.”

Polly Geist:

“Wow.” You blink at her in shock, your eyes going over her appearance. “You’ve changed.”

“Have I?” She looks down at her sophisticated ghost coat, her hand putting a strand of her hair behind her hair. “Ha! I guess I have. It’s been quite a few years since we’ve seen each other.”

“Last time I saw you…” You give out a sad smile. “You were wearing T-shirts and shorts, partying at all times.”

“Oh, that’s right!” She giggles happily. “And you used to wear short skirts, always taking care of me the next day.”

Your lips stretch out. “I may not wear short skirts anymore, but I can still take care of you.”

Her eyes warm-up, a mix of sadness and happiness in them. “I would love that.”

Vera Oberlin:

You run into the hospital room with heavy breathing, your eyes frantically looking for her until they settle on her face. You give out a sigh of relief upon seeing her wide awake, her eyes widening in shock upon seeing you.

“(Y/N)?” She blinks a few times as you sit beside her, your hands taking one of hers and grasping it tightly. “What are you doing here?”

You give out a sad smile. “Apparently, I’m still the emergency caller.”

She gives your smile back, her features softening. “I haven’t seen you in years…”

“And whose fault is that?” She looks away in embarrassment at your response, a small chuckle escaping your throat. “And you had to get badly injured for me to see you again…”

“I didn’t plan this to go this way.” She looks back at you, pain in her eyes. “I wanted to come back with everything you would need.”

“You’re all I need.” You let one of your hands wander towards her head so that one of her snakes can rub its head against it. “So just come home for good… okay?”

She stays silent for a moment, then gives out a genuine smile. “Alright. I’ll stay.”

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mutenized · 4 years

Text

The Choice Bit of Calico (Chapter One)

Ship: Thomas Shelby x Reader

Characters: Thomas Shelby, Billy Kimber, Ada Shelby, Polly Shelby, Finn Shelby, Arthur Shelby, John Shelby, mentions of Freddie Thorne

Warning(s): mentions of blood, war, and violence (obviously), maybe a slow burn?, forbidden romance, inner conflict, heartache, rebellion. Intended smut. In this chapter there is a bit of time skipping; only 3 times I believe.

A/N: Choice Bit of Calico was slang in the 1920s for a desirable woman. The prologue to this series can be found HERE. HAHA two chapters in one sitting AND posting it before the original post dates? WOAAHHH. Also this one’s a long one so buckle up.

Synopsis: You are the sibling of Billy Kimber. Living with him in London, you heard of nursing classes offered at a church in Birmingham near where you and your older brother were born. It was during World War I and you wanted to do something to help the soldiers from your country as well as the allied countries. Living in your childhood home until you were sent back to London to work at the Veteran’s Hospital, you never forgot about the firey brunette who wanted to do the same as you. Keeping in touch, you both wrote letters back and forth until one fateful day you find yourself back in Birmingham, bags in hand, to take care of an ailing family member. Who knew the moment you got off the train your whole life would change?

Words: 2594

MASTERLIST

A month had passed since you arrived in Birmingham, three weeks since you started the nursing classes at the church, and two weeks since you bonded with the witty yet quick thinking brunette in the class whom you found out was named Ada. You had been partnered to evaluate one another’s quick first aid techniques when it all sparked. Taking suggestions from one another at a pub on the side of town your brother warned you to stay away from turned into meeting her younger brother Finn and Aunt Polly who lived on Watery Lane which evolved into having dinners with the three of them every Wednesday, drinks every Saturday, and breakfast every Sunday.

Ada’s family soon became your own, learning of her three brothers who were over in Europe; the oldest in the Ottoman Empire, the second oldest in France, and the last stationed in a location that was to be kept top secret. When no letters arrived in the post, you were there for the distressed duo. Whether it was help around the house as they try to find out from people in their inner circles if there were any reports of the three men to infirmaries or morgues or even keep the news away from little Finn who was only seven years of age. You found that he enjoyed helping you around in the gardens on nice days and telling you about his favorite types of horses. Though you knew nothing of the animal other than the fact they can be used in racing and that they were being overworked in London for carriage rides though cars were becoming more readily available, you listened to him jammer on and on until he became too hungry or tired to continue.

You hoped for the three of them that the three men over at war would come home safely. For the first time in ages, you prayed.

Two more months passed, and you were three months into the nursing class. Nearing the ending of the courses, it had been decided by the instructor, a nurse at one of the largest hospitals in the south, that you and Ada were both not fit for in field work but, due to both of your wonderful communication skills, that working with veterans that were in rehabilitation or facing treatments for their injuries was the best choice. Seeing that the closest veteran’s hospital was back in London, you faced conflict. Continue living in Birmingham and risk Billy finding out you aren’t finding any work in the medical field but rather conversing and being social with those you grew close to, which would result in him dragging you back to London under his supervision, or take the job that was offered to you at Imperial Order Of the Daughters Of The Empire Hospital and live on your own until the war was over and see what the future held.

Choosing to go back to London on your own accord was heartbreaking to you, it was like the last day of primary school before you were homeschooled by the tutor your brother hired. You felt as if you would never see Ada or her family again as well as the other friends you had made. On the last night before your departure, Polly had invited you over for drinks with her and Ada. Finn was at a friend’s house for the night which left the lot of you free to drink without worrying about being too loud or filtering your stories in case Finn decided to play spy in the middle of the night. With your trunk sitting by the front entrance as well as the suitcase you had brought with you, you sat around the round table with the two other women you had become so close to. They had already given you a present for good luck. A pristine nurse uniform that Polly had seen a usual at the pub’s wife wear one day as they crossed paths on the street laid unfolded on the table as the three of them admired the soon-to-be-fleeting cleanliness of it. Ada, on the other hand, had gifted you a golden locket with a photo of the two of you that a man had taken while testing out the newest camera to come out. That day you and Ada, drunk off your asses, tried to sit as still as you could as the camera process as slow as a snail. “I remember we went from The Garrison into that damned parlor. It was a fuckin’ shame we went there first. Imagine all of the drunken shopping we would’ve done.” Ada jabbed, causing you to laugh so hard you spilt your drink all over you robe.

That night, words of advice, stories of family and friends, and songs were sung until your eyes couldn’t stay open anymore. The next thing you could remember was Polly waking you up, Finn on her side with tears in his eyes. “This one was picked up this morning and wants to go with ya’ to London.” Polly smiled sullenly, your eyes softening from the groggy, hungover state they were into something more awake and less irritated. Your heart broke as you saw tears on the boy’s cheeks.

“Oh Finn, you know I’d love to take you and Pol and Ada to London with me,” You began, thumb brushing off the tears that rested on his cheeks, “But I can’t take you three, which breaks my heart. But, with you here with them, I know you’re going to protect them, right?” With a sad nod, Finn fell into your chest as he cuddles up into you one last time. It was hard saying goodbye to them, but Finn’s sadness really made the decision settle in. Pressing a kiss to the boy who you considered your little brother’s forehead, you pick him up and begin to say goodbye to Polly and Ada, sad smiles all around as you grab your trunk and suitcase. A honk sounded which signaled your exit, a final wave as you loaded your items into the car’s backseat before joining the driver in the front. “To the trains please.” You spoke, settling into the seat though it was a short ride.

4 years passed, many patients that you had helped were back finding their ways through their daily life once again. Within those four years you had always kept in touch with Ada and Polly, writing letters back and forth about what has gone on in each other’s lives. One day, a letter came for you, Ada’s flourish on the envelope. The note read:

“(Y/N),

Obviously, you’ve heard that the war’s over, thank fucking God (I don’t think I would have lasted if it went on for any longer). With that, all three brothers are home and the chaos has picked up right where it was left off. Arthur is being a dumbass, Thomas is being a hard-ass, and John is being a jackass.

I miss having you here, you’re my last hope of sanity in all honesty. I think you were Polly’s as well, having seen that I’ve been sneaking out to visit Freddie Thorne. Oh, (Y/N), I have so much I need to tell you but so little I can write without having Thomas go through my shit. Let’s hope this gets to you soon, I don’t think I’ll last in this god forsaken house one last minute with the way the ass trio continues to act.

Will you come visit soon? Did they offer you a job?

Please write back soon, it’s the only thing I look forward to now,

Ada”

Laughing at the thought of stubborn Ada dealing with her brothers, you looked around your London apartment and sighed. You had notified your brother that you were moving back to Birmingham to help with the veterans down in Small Heath. Under the guise of the hospital having a volunteer program being funded, Billy handed you over the keys before sending you out of his office. “Anything else? The races are starting soon, and this damn horse keeps fucking winning.” He had grumbled causing you to roll your eyes and head back to your own apartment to pack. Now, with the letter in your hand and the key in your jacket pocket as well as a train ticket, you grinned widely. Ada always found joy in surprises, though they were always small ones like when you sent her imported cigarettes for her birthday.

In the matter of twenty-four hours you went from living in London with a well-paying job and new experiences to living in Small Heath, Birmingham with no job, a house, and one family who cared for you. Gazing out the window of the cab you caught, you pay him the pounds before stepping out. “How much for you to help me bring the trunks inside?” You inquire, the man letting out a solid laugh, much to your misery. “Oi, I drive a cab, not own a fuckin’ moving company. Should have thought of getting one.” He spat, helping you take out the trunks you packed before speeding off. Cursing him under your breath, you used all the strength you could muster to drag the heavy trunks into the foyer and leaving them there. No way were you getting those things upstairs. Not tonight, at least. You had more important things to tend to, anyways. Like visiting Polly and Ada, hopefully. You prayed that they were at the house in Watery Lane and not out dealing with some ‘family matters’ as Ada would explain.

Finding the trunk that you had packed with clothes and shoes, you pulled out the outfit you had planned for surprising the duo. Pulling out the cornflower blue silk chiffon dress, you paired them with the white button up shoes that a soldier’s wife had gifted you for saving his life when he randomly fell ill. Tucking the locket Ada had gifted you all those years ago into the top of your dress, you quickly fixed the pattern curls of your hair before grabbing the golden compact you had carried always and key to your house. Setting down the roads as the sun was beginning to set, you noticed the abundance of men who bore flat caps that had tip’s that, when the light caught it correctly, gleamed in the light whose appearances multiplied in number the closer you drew to the house of Polly. Worry settled in but you didn’t let it phase your emotions physically.

The nerves in your stomach seemed to spread as you felt eyes on you when you walked up the steps to the house you frequented not so long ago. Either way, you knocked at the door hard enough it was heard and took a step back. Rolling on the balls of your feet, you waited for the door to open and when it did? You were met with a man who was slightly taller than you with a freckled face and striking blue eyes. Before either of you could even speak, you heard the sound of running feet across the wooden floors before seeing a taller, spritelier, Finn.

“(Y/N)! You’re back! When did you come back!?” The now eleven-year-old inquired, a grin on your face. The man in front of you seemed confused, but still never took his calculating gaze off of you. “I came in this afternoon! I’m movin’ back down to my house, remember when you and Ada came over and had a picnic in the parlor?” You grinned, the boy nodding furiously before turning to the group that had formed at the door.

“Arthur, Tommy, John! This is (Y/N), Ada’s friend! They met at those nursing classes Ada took four years ago!” Finn informed the brothers, realization coming across their face.

“(Y/N), nice to meet ya’. ‘m John, that tall, lanky one is Arthur, and the statue here is Thomas, call ‘im Tommy though. Thomas is too formal for ‘im.” The youngest out of the three, John, spoke with a smirk on his face. Moving aside, the men let you in before the eldest, Arthur, spoke up.

“So what brings ya’ back to Small Heath? Can’t be better from where you’re comin’ from.” A chuckle left his lips as you sat down at the kitchen table comfortably, too comfortable for the middle brother, Tommy’s, liking. “You know you should wait for Polly before you sit. It’s a bit rude.” His gravelly voice rang in your head and his piercing blue eyes stared into yours. You could tell he was waiting for you to submit. That wasn’t going to happen, that’s for sure.

“Oh, I’m moving back from London. Worked at Imperial Order Of the Daughters Of The Empire Hospital until about three days ago. Decided to move back here since I feel more at home here. Like seeing the horses on the street being taken care of rather than being beat down for not being fast enough at the carriage rides, you know?” You start out, focusing your gaze on Arthur who settled in his seat across from you before turning to Tommy.

“Would you like to see my correspondence with Pol, as well, Tommy? I don’t carry her notes on me but I do have them back at my house here in Small Heath. If you’d want to take a stroll with a lowly Londoner, then let it happen. Just know the days the two of them hadn’t heard anything from you lot I was here, helping around the house and with Finn,” pausing, you look between the three who seem taken aback that you didn’t crush under the gaze of Tommy who was now glaring daggers at you, “Not to say your lack or correspondence is directly your fault, but they worried. They were scared you had died and didn’t want Finn to hear the discussions of phoning local morgues that received army men’s bodies.”

Before Tommy could retort, a gasp from the front door was heard. Polly. Grinning wide, you instantly shot up from the chair you relaxed in and made your way to engulf the woman in a tight hug. With tears in your eyes, you pulled back to look over the woman with a smile. “(Y/N), what are you doing here!? I…I’m fuckin’ speechless. Does Ada know you’re here? Are you just visiting?” Her questions continued on just as Finn’s did in which you answered them all with the brightest, happiest tone in your voice. It wasn’t until her eyes locked with an annoyed Thomas that she realized she wasn’t there to greet her and neither was Ada.

“Hope they didn’t give you a hard time,” she whispered before steeling up and turning to the three men, “This is Miss (Y/N). She’s a family friend, if I hear anything about any of you thinking with your cocks and not your brains, I’ll fuckin’ beat ‘ya. She doesn’t deserve the crock of shit you three stew. Now, (Y/N), come with me. I have a lot to catch you up on.”

With that, you were guided into the parlor, unknowing to the booming business behind the curtain in the kitchen. You were also unaware of the burning blue eyes that scanned you from head to toe as you left. Another thing you were unaware of? The fact you just walked into the den of the Peaky Blinders and that you, Billy Kimber’s kid sister, were an unknown enemy by fault. This was going to become the beginning of the most trivial times.

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reidrco · 4 years

Text

wannabe

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: tommy shelby x reader

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: none except a few swear words.

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿‘𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: this was requested some weeks ago and i had so much fun writing it, but i still don’t really like it lmao!! BUT i hope y’all like and enjoy reading it! i kinda tried to make it similar to the family meeting in the last episode of season five, but it’s still different :) sorry for any mistakes i made!

You pushed the door to the Garrison open and stepped inside the warm building, taking off your soaking wet coat immediately. It was raining like crazy outside, the cold wind leaving goosebumps all over your body. Your plan for today had been to stay at home the entire day, read a novel and drink tea, but Tommy had called for an important family meeting in the famous pub.

You knew he wouldn‘t have been mad if you hadn‘t showed up, but the relationship with his family wasn‘t the best at the moment which was why you wanted to be by his side and support him.

“I‘m never going outside again. This weather is disgusting,” you complained and walked towards your husband who stood by the fireplace, his back facing you. He turned around straightaway, relieved to see you had decided to join the family meeting. Even though he didn‘t want to show it, you could see his tensed muscles relaxing as he saw your beautiful face.

Nobody else had arrived yet, giving the two of you some alone time for a few minutes. Tommy pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead before he wrapped his arms around you, pulling your body closer to his.

“You didn‘t have to come,” he reminded you and closed his eyes for a brief moment.

“But I wanted to,” you answered with a loving smile and placed your hands on his strong shoulders, looking into his blue eyes. Tommy leaned his forehead against yours, the two of you stayed silent for a few minutes, enjoying each other‘s presence in silence.

You hadn‘t spent a lot of times with Tommy the past weeks, you had been busy traying horses every day while he had stayed in his office until sunrise. Business was stressful these days and claimed all your free time which was why you treasured little moments like this the most.

“I love you,” you whispered, a huge smile, one you rarely got to see, appearing on your husband‘s face as these three words left your mouth. Even after all the years the two of you had been together, hearing you say these three magical words made his heart skip a beat.

“I‘m glad you‘re here,” Tommy confessed and left a quick kiss on your soft lips before the door opened and the rest of the Shelby family entered the pub. Sighingly you pulled away from Tommy, already missing his warm embrace, and waved at Polly who greeted you with her beautiful smile.

“Hello, lovebirds,” she grinned at the two of you and took a seat at the table, lightning a cigarette between her red lips. Tommy ignored her teasing nickname and drew his attention back to you, reaching out to interwine his fingers with yours.

You squeezed his hand slightly as you suddenly noticed the blonde American goddess, Gina, stepping inside the pub with her husband. You couldn‘t help but roll your eyes, already annoyed by her unnecessary presence.

Gina and you haven‘t had the best start. Michael had introtuced you to her at the latest family dinner, but you had been a tiny bit tipsy already and unable to control the words leaving your mouth. You had apologised for calling her Michael‘s exclusive whore a hundred times, but Gina was stubborn like crazy. She had let you feel her anger every time your paths crossed and you were sure she would do so today again.

You watched the rest of the family sitting down at the table as well, greeting everyone with a kind smile. Well except Gina and Michael, but they didn‘t seem to care anyway.

“Ignore them,” Tommy whispered in your ear, bringing you back to reality with a kiss on your cheek. You simply notted and sat down on the chair next to Polly, focusing on your husband.

“First of all, thank you for coming,” Tommy said truthfully and forced himself to put a weak smile on his lips which caused Polly to raise an eyebrow and chuckle clearly amused by his action. You nudged her softly with your elbow, but couldn‘t hide your grin either.

Your husband cleared his throat, fishing for his cigarettes in his pocket impatiently while looking through the little growd of people at the table in front of him.

“Also, Congratulation to Michael and Gina,” he continued speaking, “They‘re expecting their first child.”

Everyone started clapping and cheering, yelling their congratulations at the married couple excitedly. Tommy had told you about Gina‘s pregnancy already which was why you weren‘t really surprised, a part of you feeling bad for the unborn child who would be raised by these two egoists.

“Well, thank you very much, Thomas,” the American woman put her most beautiful fake smile on, placing her hand on top of Michael‘s on the wooden table, “It‘s not like you‘ll ever get to see my baby anyway, but we really appreciate your… uncommon kindness.”

You couldn‘t help but roll your eyes at her provocating answer, but your husband didn‘t seem to be bothered by it, but Polly definitely was.

“What do you mean?” she asked confused, her eyes fixed on her son who exhaled the air in his lungs sharply, feeling very uncomfortable.

“Michael and I are taking the baby to America,” Gina explained before her husband had the chance to say a single word, “And the family business too.“

Everyone in the room stared at the young woman speechlessly, unable to believe anything she had just said. You nearly choked on your own saliva as you realised what Gina was trying to say in that moment.

This had to be a bad joke. A very bad one.

You didn‘t dare to look at Tommy, because you knew he wouldn‘t say anything right away even though his anger was probably exploding inside him. Gina looked at all the confused faces around the table, still wearing the lovely fake smile on her red lips.

“Oh, you didn‘t tell them yet, honey?” she acted surprised, looking back at her husband and pretending to be disappointed. Michael‘s eyes met her‘s, silently begging her to stop. He was clearly uncomfortable.

“I mean... you can tell them now, right? Since everyone is here today,” she suggested and leaned back in her chair, waiting for her husband to say something. You drew your attention to Tommy who hadn‘t said a word and still managed to stay calm, his blue eyes fixed on Michael.

Polly‘s once innocent son cleared his throat and got up from his chair, taking a deep breathe.

“Tommy,” he started nervously, “I came up with a plan to expand the family business in America. It‘s clear that this company needs to be restructured and I‘d like to take it in my own hands. With the help of my wife and her family obviously.”

You couldn‘t hold back a sarcastic laugh and rolled your eyes clearly annoyed by Michael‘s proposal, gaining everyone‘s attention in seconds, but they all stayed silent.

“I didn‘t know you and your lovely wife were in a position to suggest business plans after losing thousands of dollars in the States, but of course, Michael, go on. We have a lot of trust in you after all, don‘t we?” unlike your husband, you couldn‘t stay very calm when someone got on your nerves. Especially not when that someone was Michael. Or Gina.

Polly‘s son looked at you slightly taken aback, not knowing what to say for a brief second before he collected himself and continued talking.

“I already talked to men from Detroit and New York who would be interested in the Opium we‘re going to ship to America from now on and they would love to make a deal with me. This could be our main source of money every month,” he said with a lot of confidence he had surprisingly gained in the past seconds.

“Nearly twenty million dollar. Every month,” his wife added proudly, “More money your dirty hands have ever touched and all you have to do is sit back and let us do the work.“

Impatiently you looked at your husband who didn‘t seem very impressed, waiting for him to finally say something and stop their talking about their absurd wish. But he stayed silent, his eyes traveling around the room. It was clear that he wasn‘t very interested in this topic.

“Since Michael has finished his wonderful speech now, I‘d like to explain our next steps regarding-...,” Tommy finally spoke but didn‘t get to finish his sentence because of Michael who interrupted him unpolitely.

“This is your opportunity to take a break, buy a house by the sea and horses you can train,” he tried his very best to convince Thomas and everyone else in the room from his terrible plan.

“Everyone with a working brain wouldn‘t say no to such an offer, but it‘s hard to think logically when you come from a family with no education, isn‘t it?” Gina smiled at your husband innocently, knowning exactly how provocating her words were, but you wouldn‘t listen to her voice another second.

You rose from your seat and walked over to where Michael‘s wife was sitting, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you looked down into her eyes, but Tommy started talking again before you could say anything.

“You had your chance, Michael, and you fucked up. Nobody asked for your opinion, nobody wanted to hear anything about your plan, because nobody cares about the shit that comes out of your mouth. I‘m the fucking boss and if you think you‘re the fucking king of the castle here, please, do all of us a favour and fuck off to America,” his voice was calm, but you could see the anger burning in his eyes.

“Same goes for you, Blondie, and if you haven‘t left this fucking pub in the next two minutes I will drag you outside by your cheap pearl earings,” your attention was back on Gina now. “Oh and maybe someone in America will teach you in which situations you better keep your mouth shut.”

In this moment you wished you could kill her with your bare hands or at least slap her in the face, but you didn‘t, turning around and walking towards your husband instead. Not a single family member dared to say anything while waiting for the disliked couple to leave.

Tommy wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to him, pressing a loving kiss on your forehead. He didn’t know why but he loved it when you put other people in their place, making him feel proud. A part of him thought it was extremely sexy and he wished he could take you right there on the table, but for now he had to stop getting distracted by his unholy thoughts.

His cousin and Gina still didn‘t move and hoped for support from Polly or maybe even Finn, but they only gained disappointed and annoyed glances. They slowly started to realise that nobody wanted to have them at this meeting.

Tommy cleared his throat and looked down on the expensive watch which he had taken out of his pocket, raising an eyebrow. One minute had almost past.

“Go, Michael. We‘ll talk later,” you could hear the anger Polly felt in her voice as she spoke, wanting this embarassing situation to end. And even after all Michael wouldn‘t disobey his mother, nodding slightly and taking his wife‘s hand in his. He ignored her protests completely as he dragged her in the direction of the door. Somehow he would change his family‘s minds, but obviously not today.

“For fuck‘s sake, Gina, was that really necessary?” he hissed angrily before slamming the door shut after they had stepped outside. A relieved sigh left your mouth when they had finally left.

“Would anyone else like to tell me what to do or may I talk now?” your husband asked clearly annoyed, but nobody was brave enough to answer him. Tommy continued talking after a short moment of silence, explaining his family the reason for this meeting.

You were glad Michael and Gina were gone now, not missing their presence at all, but you knew Michael‘s plan wasn‘t off the table for him yet and he would continue being a pain in the ass along with the blonde goddess by his side.

𝘁𝗮𝗴 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁: @captivatedbycillianmurphy @sweetgoodangel

#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinder imagine

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whump-me-all-night-long · 4 years

Text

The Scoop of a Lifetime - 22

Whumptober Day 22 - DO THESE TACOS TASTE FUNNY TO YOU?

Tagging @mnmlover2002 @cupcakes-and-pain @appy-polly-loggies @lave-e @lovely-little-whump, let me know if you want to be added/removed!

CW: referenced injuries, medical whump, noncon drugging, fade to black/heavily implied torture, let me know if I missed anything!

Masterlist // Previous

---

About two days after Devin woke up, the last of the infection seemed to be gone.

Finishing rebandaging their arm, Dr. Lenus sat back. “Yeah, you’re clean now. Once this finishes healing, all you’ll have left to remember this is a small scar.”

Devin watched him carefully. After their last encounter, they didn’t exactly trust the man who was so indebted to Wildre; and neither, it seemed, did Wildre himself.

He watched the doctor’s every move closely from the wall, a small scowl on his face. Once he was done, Wildre pushed off and walked over. “Thank you,” he said coldly. “You’re dismissed.”

Lenus opened his mouth to say something before thinking better of it and silently nodding, grabbing his bag and leaving.

Wildre sat down in the recently vacated chair next to Devin. “How does it feel to be infection free, love?” he asked, a glimmer of his usual snark showing.

Devin shrugged with a sigh. “Good, I guess.” In truth, the past couple days had been awful for them. They’d spent most of their time feeling horribly nauseous and the rest of it extremely lethargic. So they were definitely feeling better now. A small part of them couldn’t help being sad that things would be returning to normal what even is normal anymore and they didn’t foresee that including lots of bedrest. On the bright side, Lenus had checked out their ankles and saw that they were healing okay; a bit slowly, but that was to be expected, since Wildre kept them on their feet so often.

“Wonderful! I expect to see you at dinner, then, in an hour.” Wildre stood to leave but before he did, he commented, “I have sorely missed your company, love.”

Devin shivered slightly at the foreboding feel of the words. They laid there for a few moments longer, alone at last, before dragging themself out of bed, cringing at the pain from their ankles, but grateful that it seemed to be less than before.

They forced themself to take a quick shower, savoring the heavenly feel of the it burns it burns in a good way not like my arm this soothes hot water cascading down their achy body, before getting out. They quickly dried their hair before walking out to grab some clothes, a towel wrapped loosely around them.

With a start, they realized that there were already clothes laid out on the bed. No doubt in their mind that Wildre was behind it, even if he hadn’t put them there himself. Thinking for a moment, they realized they weren’t nearly as freaked out as they logically should be. But they knew Wildre had next to no boundaries, and even those he seemed only to hesitate for a moment before crossing.

Picking up the clothes, they raised their eyebrows slightly at the soft, expensive feeling material. Pulling the dark purple dress shirt and black, close cut pants without a second thought, they sat down on the bed to lace up the supportive pair of white tennis shoes that fit easily over the ankle braces.

Satisfied with their appearance, they pulled open the door to their room, giving Duncan a small smile, not at all surprised by his presence. The entirety they’d been confined to bed, he’d stood guard, under Wildre’s orders, but still, it was impossible to not grow used to someone when you spent nearly all day with them.

He gave them a small nod, setting off down the hall, Devin trailing. They stopped a ways away at a door that opened into the room they remembered getting hurt me hurt me so bad he ruined me eating breakfast in.

They froze slightly at the entrance before hardening their expression, their mouth becoming a harsh, thin line. Wildre was already sitting at the table set for two, glancing up as the two from where he typed furiously away at his phone as they came in. He was dressed in his usual attire of button-up shirt with a nice jacket thrown over it and slacks, not a hair out of place. Ever since that first night, Devin hadn’t seen him anything but perfectly put together. He dragged his gaze over them as they walked forward and sat down across from him.

“I see you got my gift, love,” he drawled, smirking lazily and slipping his phone into his pocket.

They raised an eyebrow at him. “I didn’t know I had a choice,” they shot back.

He laughed at that. “You always have a choice. In this case, you chose right.” I chose what you wanted me to do, they thought darkly before turning their attention to the food in front of the two, still hot.

“Soup?” they asked, surprised. “I was expecting something…”

“Fancier? More refined? You’re still healing, love. I wanted to do something nice.” With that, he picked up his spoon and brought it to his mouth, Devin following suit.

They ate quietly, the only sounds the clinking of the utensils against the bowls and the slight slurp whenever they were brought to their mouths. About halfway through eating, Devin paused, a wave of nausea sweeping over them. The soup turned bitter in their mouth.

“Does.. does this taste a bit funny to you?” As soon as they had spoken, Wildre had looked up at them, a knowing grin on his face. The blood drained out of Devin’s as they dropped their spoon with a clatter. “No.” But it was too late. Darkness was already creeping into the edges of their vision and nearly immediately, they felt themself falling.

They woke with a start at a sharp stinging pain on their cheek. Cracking open their eyes, they found themself staring up at a dark stone ceiling. They tried to sit up, only to be stopped nearly immediately by restraints on their arms and legs. Pulling against them slightly, they felt oh god i’m trapped i’m about to die aren’t i he’s finally decided to get rid of me themself beginning to panic.

“Ah, good, you’re up, love.” Wildre slowly stepped into view on their side, holding something they couldn’t see. “I wouldn’t want you to miss the show, now, would I? It is, after all for your benefit.”

Devin decided that they were becoming more familiar than they’d like at the sensation of their tongue laying thick and heavy on the bottom of their mouth. “Why, why are you doing this, Wildre?” they slowly asked, pleading slipping into their voice.

He grabbed their jaw, a bit too tight to be comfortable. “Because you are mine, and you are here to be my toy, my stress reliever, and I haven’t been able to play with you the past few days, all because you decided to go get yourself broken.” He let go of them with a small push as they finally saw what he was holding.

It was the same knife as a few days weeks months lifetimes ago, their mouth aching in response. He stepped even closer and, in one fluid motion, opened their shirt, the cold air hitting their bare chest with a shiver.

He placed the it’s too cold it’s too sharp get it off me i don’t want it touching me tip of the knife on their skin, trailing it light enough to not break the skin.

“Now, love, where should I begin?” he asked, his eyes lighting up. Devin could only turn their head away, squeezing their eyes shut with a muffled sob as the first drops of blood welled up.

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rubysunnday · 4 years

Note

maybe just like a little timeline fic with john and shelby!sis and how they were there for each other and john being there when she gets married (or you can write whatever you like). thank youu! x

A/N: this is long because I got far too into it

When Y/N Shelby was born, John had been the first one to hold her. Mainly because Polly was struggling to manage a new born baby and their mother who’d suffered a long and tedious birth. She was shoved into his arms and then he was kicked out the room.

John stood on the landing, holding his newborn baby sister in his arms, rocking her awkwardly as she just laid there. He didn’t know what to do with a baby - yes he had several kids of his own, but they were his, and weren’t his little sister - and just held her until Arthur came and took her off him.

Growing up, neither John or Y/N were very close - both yelling at each other more than they actually talked. Y/N was closer with Tommy and Ada and spent most of her younger years around them. John watched silently as Tommy taught Y/N to ride, read and write. He could see the adoration in her eyes whenever Tommy was talking and it hurt.

John grew close with Finn when he arrived eight years later and for some reason wished he had that relationship with his youngest sister. Instead, they constantly screamed and fought with one another.

Until the Great War.

Y/N had clung to all three of her brothers, not wanting them to leave. She’d let John go first and he felt his chest ache with jealously as she sobbed into Tommy’s chest.

But two years into the endless war, John received a letter from his sister. She was sixteen, now, and he’d been surprised when the letter, with her elegant scrawl on the envelope, arrived. He’d opened it, smiling sadly at the photo she’d put inside the letter of her, wearing a new dress.

She’d grown up a lot in the two years he’d been gone. She was no longer a a little girl but, instead, a young woman who took after her mother.

“She looks like you, mate,” one of his fellow soldiers said, catching John tracing the photo with his finger.

John frowned. “Really?”

HIs friend nodded. “Yeah, she’s got your eyes.”

John looked at the photo again and realised what his friend meant. He smiled, tucking the photo inside his coat, next to his heart.

He unfolded the letter and began reading it, his heart aching as he caught a whiff of the perfume Tommy had bought her before they left.

‘Dearest John,

Hi. I’m sorry I haven’t written before now. I didn’t quite know what to write to you. Unlike Tommy and Arthur, writing to you didn’t come naturally.

I think it’s because we weren’t ever that close. Not like I was with Arthur and Tommy. But, the truth is, John, I miss you the most. I miss you teasing me, annoying me, helping me get ready in the mornings. I just miss you.

It’s been weird turning sixteen and not having you around. I wonder how much we’ll have to catch up on when you return. Because you will, John, I know you will.

Ada and Polly bought me a new dress - the one I’m wearing in the photo - for my birthday. Truth be told, however, I’ve been wearing your old clothes more than I have my own. Your trousers fit me when I roll them up, as does your shirt. I hope you don’t mind, it’s just helping me get through this.

Whatever this is.

Anyway, Finn’s being a pain, as usual. He wanted to write this letter with me but I didn’t want him to. I just wanted it to be from me, to you.

Not even Tommy and Arthur’s letters are this long. Maybe because I don’t miss them as much as I do you. I know nothing will be the same once this is all over - but at least you’ll be back.

When you get back we should go down to London and see a show, or something. Just us two.

I could go on for pages, John, but I don’t think you’ll have a chance to read everything I want to tell you. I miss you, truly.

Lovingly yours,

Y/N/N x’

John felt his eyes burning as he finished the letter. He blinked furiously as he tucked the letter with the photo, making sure not the rip the paper it was so delicately written on.

Over the next two years, John received a letter from his sister every month. He treasured them all, but none so much as the one he got from her on her eighteenth birthday.

It was bitterly cold that day. The 15th February had always been a cold day, no matter when or where. That’s why he found it funny that his sweet, warm sister had been born on that day.

He’d been handed a giant parcel and frowned when he looked at the label.

‘Didn’t feel right not to share - Y/N/N’

John untied the string and unwrapped the numerous layers of paper wrapped around the tin. He lifted the lid and laughed - properly laughed for the first time in months - at the entire cake his sister had fitted inside it. He was certain Polly had made it for her for her birthday. Only two slices had been removed and he smiled, shaking his head as he pulled out the letter that came with it.

‘Hey, John,

So, I thought you deserved a cake. The other two slices are for Tommy and Arthur but I thought you and your regiment could have the rest of it. It doesn’t feel right not sharing it with you all.

Eighteen is meant to be a big celebration but with everything going on, I’d rather wait a while until we’re all together again.

Miss you,

Y/N/N’

Y/N had included another photo with her letter and John couldn’t help but be shocked at how much she’d grown up in two years. She was still his little sister, she still looked like him, ironically, but she looked grown - up.

John suddenly realised just how much of her life he’d missed. He set the photo and the letter in his pocket, adding it to the bundle he had, and began splitting up the cake for his regiment.

Nine months later and the war was over. John got on the train home a week later. He found Tommy and Arthur at a random train station in Kent when they had to switch trains and the three of them traveled up to Birmingham together.

When they arrived at Birmingham train station, the platform was packed with people, all waiting for their loved ones.

Somehow, Y/N managed to find them first.

John caught sight of her running through the crowd and fully expected her to hug Tommy or Arthur first.

He was caught completely off guard when she all but launched herself at him.

John caught her, stumbling back from the force of her hug. She clung to him, sobbing and laughing as he hugged her back just as tightly.

“Hi, sweetheart,” John said as Finn and Ada ran to Arthur and Tommy.

“I missed you,” Y/N whispered, still crying, as she buried her face into his neck. Once she’d greeted Tommy and Arthur, she didn’t let go of John. She held his hand, refusing to let go even as they got into the car to drive back to Watery Lane.

The first night back home was bizarre. John couldn’t sleep - everything was too quiet, warm and comfortable.

His door creaked open and he sat up as Y/N walked in, hair a tangled mess of curls.

“Hey,” she whispered, walking over to him and laying down next to him.

John, surprised because Y/N never came into his room, relaxed as she curled up against him, her legs tangling with his.

“Why you up?”

“Needed a pee. You?”

“Can’t sleep.”

Y/N hummed, snuggling closer to John. He gently swept her hair out of her face as he pulled the blankets over them both.

“Don’t wake me up,” Y/N muttered as she began to doze off against her brother.

John laughed quietly, shifting so he was laying down next to her, an arm around her shoulders. “I won’t.”

Having his sister asleep next to him, and feeling her heart beating, John slowly fell asleep.

“I feel stupid.”

“Don’t, you look lovely.”

Y/N glanced at her brother as he sat down next to her, sliding a glass of whiskey over to her. “Where’s your wife?”

“Dancing like a madwoman.”

Y/N smiled. “Feels weird knowing you’re married again.”

“Yeah, thanks for fucking telling me.”

Y/N raised a hand up in surrender. “I didn’t know until Polly told me ten minutes before you, hun.”

“Ahuh.”

Y/N sighed quietly, drinking her drink. “John...”

“Mmm?”

“I know I’m old enough to live by myself...but would you and Esme mind if I stay with you for a bit?”

John raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

Y/N shrugged. “Just...I feel safer with you two.”

John nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. “Of course, sweetheart.”

Y/N smiled again, this time it seemed more genuine, and John nudged her shoulder with a smile as she giggled, drinking more of her drink.

It all happened far too quickly.

There was a yell.

A gunshot.

More yelling.

Y/N could only stare as Grace fell back into Tommy, the shooter being tackled to the ground by Arthur.

The room faded away - as did the screams of panic - as Y/N stared at Grace dying in her husband’s arms.

She fell onto the ground, dress spilling out around her, as she just stared, the entire thing playing over in her mind again, and again, and again, and again, and again -

“Y/N?”

She couldn’t look away, even as Tommy lowered his head, shoulder’s shaking.

John knelt down in front of his sister, ignoring the blood on his shirt and hands. He gently turned her face to look at him as her breathing picked up.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” he said, putting both hands either side of her face and forcing him to look at her.

Y/N didn’t care that John was getting blood on her face and her dress. She stared at him, her gaze locking onto his as he became her focus.

“Just breathe, alright?” He said calmly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Just breathe, you’re alright.” Y/N’s hand shakily grabbed John’s, gripping it tightly as she leant forward and hugged him tightly, clinging onto him.

John caught her and hugged her back. He glanced behind and knew Grace was gone when he saw Polly hugging her nephew tightly. John turned back to his sister, pressing a kiss to her head, as she shook in his arms.

“I’ve got you, you’re alright, my love,” he whispered, stroking her hair.

Y/N hadn't slept. She’d tossed and turned, walked about, read a few chapters, watched the night sky and nothing had helped.

She sighed, untangling herself from the blankets and standing up, grabbing John’s old coat. She wrapped it around herself and quietly crept down the stairs of her cottage.

Her husband - to - be was out with Finn, both of them promising to not get stoned or drunk before the wedding.

Y/N opened the gate and quietly walked her way down the path and across the field, towards John’s house.

She knew he’d be awake. He always woke up at ridiculous hours now - apparently it gave him time to tend to the sheep and horses before the children woke, but she knew he secretly enjoyed the quiet time he got with his two dogs.

Y/N found him halfway down the field, walking along the wall, his two dogs running around excitedly.

Upon seeing her, the dogs charged towards her, tails wagging excitedly as she bent down and greeted them.

“Hello,” John said, smiling as she was ambushed by the dogs.

“Admit it, you like being up early,” she said, standing up.

John shrugged. “It’s quiet. Nice. Good for thinking.”

“Now I’m concerned,” Y/N teased, smiling at him. “Why are you awake?” He asked, eyes narrowing in concern.

Y/N shrugged, unconsciously playing with her ring. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Having second thoughts?” John asked, perching himself on the wall.

“No, no...I just...” Y/N trailed off, sitting down next to him. “I realised I don’t have anyone to walk me down the aisle, yet. And I’m getting married in about ten hours.”

“Who you thinking of asking?” John asked, leaning on the walking stick he’d brought with him.

“One of you three,” she replied quietly. “I mean, Arthur, as the oldest, should technically be the one to do it.”

“But?”

“Well, I haven't spoken to him in weeks. I haven’t actually since him for weeks.” She shuddered. “Fucking Linda.”

John laughed. “Fucking Linda. What about Tommy?”

Y/N scoffed. “I’m sorry, did you miss our spectacular argument three weeks ago? The relationship I had with Tommy before the war is long gone, John. I tried, I did. But when it’s just you trying to make it work, it gets tiring quickly.”

John nodded. “Alright, so, Arthur is a no and Tommy is a no. What about Michael?”

“Michael wasn’t on my list, John.”

“Finn?”

“Still wasn’t on the list.”

“Isaiah?”

“Bit difficult considering he’s the one I’m marrying.”

John paused, thinking. “I can’t think of who’s left.”

Y/N stared at him. “Have you lost brain cells? How fucking stupid can you get!”

“Excuse me? What the fuck?” John asked, gaping at her.

“John, I want you to talk me down the aisle, you twat!” Y/N exclaimed loudly.

John stared at her. “What, why me?”

Y/N shrugged. “Well, you’re the only brother who hasn’t managed to piss me off these past few months.” She sighed quietly. “John, I don’t want anyone else walking me down the aisle and giving me away. Maybe, years ago, I would’ve wanted Tommy or Arthur but, truth is, I haven't been close with them for a while. Ever since Grace died, we’ve drifted apart. But you have always stuck by me.

“When I first dated Isaiah, you stuck up for me when everyone else was telling me to dump him. You were the first person I let him meet as my boyfriend. He asked your permission to marry me. John, I don’t see who else it could be.”

John stared at Y/N, mouth slightly agape. “I...”

“Is that a yes?” She asked, looking at him hopefully.

John nodded, bringing her in for a hug. “Fucking hell, of course, Y/N.”

Y/N giggled. “Good, because it’s in forty minutes.”

“What?”

Y/N chuckled at John’s shocked expression. “Well, since everyone was basically organising our wedding for us, Isaiah and I decided we’d do a small ceremony before hand, just me, him, Ada and you.”

“Yes, I remember that particular meltdown,” John muttered.

“Can you blame me?” Y/N exclaimed. “Everyone wanted it their own way, Isaiah and I got lost in the chaos, I refused to let anyone except Ada come with me to choose my dress because I knew what was going to happening.”

“Linda wanted it to be religious.”

“Fucking Linda,” Y/N muttered. She turned to face her brother. “So, will you walk me down the aisle in forty minutes?”

John nodded, standing up and hugging Y/N, lifting her off the ground as he did so. “And I’ll do it again this afternoon.”

The sun had barely risen by the time Y/N, John, Ada and Isaiah were at the church. Jeremiah had agreed to officiate, knowing how much his son was beginning to regret not eloping.

Ada had done Y/N’s hair in elegant curls, pinning a flower crown of violets, myrtle and roses upon her curls.

Y/N hadn’t gone for a huge, expensive, fancy dress. It was an old one she’d found in a shop and fixed up by herself - using scraps of her mother’s old wedding dress.

The bouquet of flowers she held were from her cottage garden and were tied with a piece of ribbon from a birthday present John had given her years ago.

John smiled as Y/N slipped her arm through his. “You look stunning.”

Y/N smiled softly, pulling her veil over her shoulder. “Thank you.” She sighed nervously, gripping John’s suit jacket tightly.

“You alright?” He asked, grasping her hand with his.

She nodded. “I’m glad that this afternoon won’t be the actual one,” she said quietly. “All those people. Most of whom, I don’t know!”

John laughed. “I say we runaway after the reception. I’ll drive you and Isaiah up to York and take the hit, how’s that?”

Y/N nodded. “Perfect. York’s lovely.”

John chuckled, shaking his head as his sister giggled. He reached behind her and carefully pulled the veil up and over her face.

“Didn’t think we were doing tradition,” Y/N said as John straightened it out, straightening her flower crown.

“I want to do it properly,” he replied, kissing her cheek through the veil.

The organ inside the church started up and Y/N sighed, nodding to herself as John let go of her arm for a moment, straighten her dress and veil.

“You’re worse than me,” she muttered as she took his arm again, resting her arm in the crook of his.

“I just want my sister to look perfect.”

Y/N blushed, smiling up at him. “Look at us,” she muttered as her cue approached. “We’ve gone from hating one another to you walking me down the aisle at 8 o’clock in the morning on the eve of bloody Halloween.”

“Can’t believe they voted down your Halloween date,” John muttered.

“Fucking Linda,” Y/N said, winking at him.

John chuckled. “Fucking Linda.”

The cue for them both to walk down the aisle arrived and sister and brother began walking through the archway.

“Thank you,” Y/N whispered as Isaiah and Ada approached.

“It’s my genuine pleasure,” John replied, smiling broadly.

They stopped in front of Jeremiah and Isaiah and Y/N handed her bouquet of flowers to Ada. John turned to face his little sister and gently lifted the veil off her face, careful not to upset her crown of flowers. He kissed her cheek and held her hand out to Isaiah.

“Look after her,” he warned as Isaiah took it, smiling.

“Always,” Isaiah replied, winking at Y/N as she giggled quietly.

As John turned to go, Y/N reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly.

John smiled at her as he squeezed back, letting go and standing next to Ada.

He couldn’t help the swell of pride as he watched his little sister marry her childhood sweetheart, wearing the bracelet he’d bought her for her twentieth. John couldn’t hide the tears of joy as she kissed her husband, Isaiah tilting her backwards and causing her to giggle.

Even as they stood at the back of the chapel, both trying not to murder the many people standing around them, fussing with Y/N’s veil and hair.

“If I did commit murder,” Y/N muttered as Polly reached up and adjusted her hair for the fifth time that minute, “would you bail me out?”

“Y/N, I’d fucking murder them with you,” John replied, glaring at Arthur as he went to snort some cocaine. “Arthur, don’t you fucking dare.”

“And, if I happened to get the death sentence for the mass murder of my entire family bar three people?”

“I’d die for you. Or, I’d die alongside you because I murdered half of them,” John replied.

“Oh my fucking god!” Y/N yelled as Linda went on another ranting at Lizzie as Arthur began taking the piss out of Finn. “All of you, fuck off!”

“You heard her,” John replied, glaring at them all as they went to speak. “Fuck off.”

Begrudgingly, the people who’d been surrounding them left and headed towards their seats, leaving John and Y/N alone once again.

“Finally,” Y/N muttered, moving her hair, crown, veil and dress back to where she’d put them. “So, if I died, you’d die with me?”

“If I couldn’t stop it, yeah.”

“Huh.”

“Why?” John asked, frowning at the morbid topic.

“I just wondered,” Y/N replied quietly. “We should share a funeral wagon.”

John raised an eyebrow. “Alright, why are we talking about this?”

“I’m a morbid person, Johnny,” Y/N replied, shrugging. “Just, answer the question.”

John rolled his eyes fondly. “Fine. We could share one. Get them to put us next to one another in our best clothes.”

“And then buried together on the hill.”

“You’ve really got it all planned out, haven’t you?”

“Can't take any chances when you’re a Shelby,” Y/N replied, smiling.

John lifted the veil over Y/N’s face, once more, as she sighed quietly. “Y/N, listen. I will lay down my life, for you.”

Y/N turned her head to look at him. John could see her eyes glistening behind the veil as she smiled sadly. “I know, John. But I would lay down my life for you, too.”

“Guess we better die together, then,” John said, straightening up as the music begun.

“We’d better, otherwise one of us is gonna have to commit suicide,” Y/N replied, gripping his arm.

John shook his head as they begun walking down the aisle. He would never let his sister die before him. He’d said it all her life but he’d die before he let anyone harm her.

The reception after the wedding was complete chaos.

There were several fights, lots of arguments and John had lost Y/N shortly after the meal.

He found her sitting on the edge of the river, quietly dropping flowers from the hall into the water.

“I’m impressed,” he said, sitting down next to her. “You didn’t murder anyone.”

“My husband stopped me,” she replied, chucking a flower into the water. “He also yelled at Tommy and Arthur for me.”

“I heard,” John replied, smirking. “I keep thinking about dying,” Y/N said suddenly. “I don’t know why. Maybe because of all the graves around the church.”

“What you thinking about?” John asked, putting an arm around her shoulders.

“What I'd do if you died.”

John raised an eyebrow. “Y/N, look at me.”

Y/N turned to look at her brother and he could see the tears in her eyes. He wiped a stray one away with his thumb, resting his hand on her cheek.

“When I die - because we’re all gonna die one day - you’ll keep going.”

“And if you die next year? Or next month?” Y/N asked, staring at him sadly. “John, I don't know if I could live with myself.”

“Y/N Shelby - Jesus,” John said, putting his other hand on her face and stroking her cheek gently. “You are going to live a long, happy life and be married for years,” he replied. “And whatever happens will happen.”

“And if we die at the same time, we’re sharing a wagon and a pot.”

“Wagon, yes, pot no. I need my space.”

“John, we’ll be dead. We wouldn’t know.”

John raised an eyebrow. “I’d know.” He shrugged. “Besides, I don’t think we’ll have to worry about that for a while.”

Y/N nodded sadly, nestling against her brother as the sun began to set behind them. “I love you.”

John kissed her head. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

John didn’t know then that his sister’s marriage would last merely two months before she was shot dead on his doorstep.

There was an irony at the fact they’d decided what to do if they died together. It was almost as if they knew.

As Y/N Shelby-Jesus and John Shelby lay dying on the stones, John grabbed her hand and held it tightly.

In the end, John watched his sister die before him.

#peaky blinder fanfic #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #shelby sis #shelby!sister #shelby sister #john shelby x sister!reader

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twistedrunes · 4 years

Text

The Two of Us

Tommy Shelby x Female Reader

(Tommy’s female best friend part II) AO3

Hello friends!

Well wonder of wonders I have actually managed to turn one of my many wips into a finished piece. This one started as a request from @thewallpapergoesorido who asked from a “fluffy” continuation of the “Tommy’s female best friend head-canon's I did a while back. Sadly I didn’t manage to make this fluff but it is a continuation ;) The inspiration to continue came from some nice reader comments and feedback (which Dumblr is now hiding from me!). So thank you all.

The piece follows-on immediately from the head-canon’s so you may want to read those first Tommy’s Female Best Friend HC

Warnings: Language (including Gypsy instead of Romani) as per the show

A giggle bursts the blissful bubble surrounding you and Tommy. Suddenly aware of where you are, you step back, hands fussing with your hair and uniform. You spin around, just in time to catch the two trainee nurses, wide eyed and sniggering into their hands as they hurry inside the quarters. From the corner of your eye, you notice the curtains of Matron’s office move.

Flustered, you turn back to Tommy shaking your head “Not here.”

“I am here,” He murmurs softly, taking your hand and placing it on his chest holding it in place with his own. “I’m here.” He repeats, attention focused entirely on you.

“No,” you say, looking back at the door which had closed behind the trainees, “you shouldn’t be here.”

Tommy’s free hand glides along your jaw, turning you to face him, his thumb brushing your cheek when you finally meet his gaze. The golden light of the autumn afternoon softening his features a little. “I came back.” He says with a husky hum, moving closer to kiss you again.

Regretfully you avoid his kiss and place a hand on his chest to gently push him away. “Please Tommy, men aren’t allowed,” you try to explain.

“Let me take you somewhere,” Tommy offers, finally seeming to understand.

“Where?” You ask, head snapping back to look at the door as you hear the hinges squeak.

“Anywhere, fuck I don’t care.” Tommy falters, realising he’s not got your full attention.

“Fuck,” You mutter as Matron fills the doorway, arms folded over her ample bosom.

“Sister, is this man bothering you?” She asks, her voice clear and firm. Without pausing for your response, she looks over your head and fixes Tommy in her steely gaze. “I will not hesitate to call the police.”

“No, thank you, Matron, there’s no need. He’s just a friend.” You reply hastily.

Matron arches her eyebrow but remains in the doorway.

You turn your attention back to Tommy “I’m sorry,” you begin to apologise.

“Just come talk to me for a bit ‘ey?” Tommy implores, his hand reaching for your face again, but stopping short of making contact.

“I can’t,” you say helplessly.

Tommy takes your shoulders in his hands, “Please,” A look of pain creasing his forehead.

“Sister?” The Matron calls sharply.

“In a moment” You say, too quickly and too sharply. You close your eyes for a moment, Tommy’s hands slip into his pockets, and you fix a smile on your face before turning towards the door again. “I’m sorry Matron, this is my friend, Mr Shelby,”

The Matron’s face remains set and stern, as she cuts you off. “Perhaps your friend would be more comfortable at Sally’s?” You stare at her dumbly. “While you change?” Matron explains.

“Pardon?” you ask, still confused.

“Your friend, perhaps he would be more comfortable at the cafe while you get changed and freshen up.” The Matron repeats slowly, a hint of a smile turning the corners of her mouth. “That is if you wish to speak with him?”

“Yes. I do. I do want to speak to him.” You say quickly, finally realising what she is suggesting.

“Just up this way?” Tommy asks Matron, pointing up the road in the direction of the tea shop.

“Yes, on the corner you can’t miss it.” Matron replies.

Matron regards Tommy for a long moment before she turns her attention back to you, “Come on then Sister, chop, chop.” She directs with a little clap of her hands.

Training, more than anything else causes you to hurry towards the door. “Meet you there in half an hour?” You ask Tommy before you step over the threshold.

Tommy nods, giving you a little smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, before looking up and meeting Matron’s eye. “Thank you.”

It’s on the way to the pub that the thought first comes to you. Why hadn’t Tommy written to you? He’d been alive all that time but hadn’t written. Why hadn’t you received a single letter from him? You push the idea to the back of your mind, telling yourself that you should just be grateful he’s here. Matron was always telling you; you think about things too much.

“So, what brings you to London?” You ask Tommy, taking your place across from him at the small corner table in Sally’s Cafe. Nerves have gotten the better of you and for some reason you can’t think of a single thing to say other than small talk.

“Business,” Tommy replies, leaning back in his chair and lighting a cigarette. There’s a new confidence in him. “We’re legitimate now, John got a licence.” He says a look of pride on his face as he shakes the match to extinguish it.

“That’s wonderful Tommy. How is he?”

“He’s good.”

“And Arthur?”

“Good.”

It’s all you can do not to sigh. You feel like you’re on one of the blind dates the girls at work kept arranging, the conversation just as forced and painful. In your mind the same thought keeps coming back; why hadn’t he written to you? You push the thought away. “Will you be in London long?”

“Not long, some business at the races. We’ll head back tomorrow.”

“Where are you staying?”

Tommy takes a long drag on his cigarette as his eyebrow arches airily “The Regatta.” A hint of a smile playing around the corners of his mouth.

That hint enough to push thoughts of why you hadn’t heard from him aside, letting you just enjoy the fact you were sitting again with your best friend. “Very posh.” You tease gently.

A waitress arrives with the tea, Tommy looks up and thanks her. Neither of you speaks while she sets things on the table. You both reach for the teapot at the same time, Tommy’s hand closing over yours. Your breath catches as you’re reminded that this isn’t just some daydream, but your Tommy, alive and in the flesh, back from the dead. Your heart and mind race, and you feel yourself on the edge of tears. It’s all you can do not to fling yourself across the table at him. “I’ll pour.” You offer instead.

Tommy nods, taking a moment before he removes his hand from yours. He watches you while you pour. “Thank you.” He says as you set the teapot back down. He takes a sip, watching you over the edge of his cup. “It’s good.” He smiles. This time, for a moment, it reaches his eyes.

“Better than the tea I used to make back home.” You quip.

Tommy huffs a laugh “Not hard that, considering what you had to work with ‘ey? Lukewarm water with leaves that’d been reused four times. Tea in the Army was better.”

You nod in agreement, smiling as you remember the two of you playing house at your kitchen table. Things were much simpler then. “Not nearly as bad as the fuckin’ cigarette you made,” you remember with a snort. “It was more lint and hay than tobacco.”

“Top grade hay,” Tommy insists with a laugh.

“You damn near burnt your eyebrows off!” you laugh “And you burnt a hole in your coat when you tried to hide it from Arthur.”

Tommy grins, dimples forming on his cheeks. Warmth fills your chest at the sight. Reaching across the table Tommy takes your hand. “You tried to fix it for me though.”

“Lots of good that did, Pol spotted it from a mile away. I thought she was going to skin you alive!”

“She always had a sweet spot for you. Reckon that’s what saved me.”

Guilt twists your stomach making you feel sick, you set your cup down on your saucer. You’d been so angry with Polly, Ada too, furious that they hadn’t told you about Tommy. Of course, now you know there was nothing to tell, Tommy was alive and they had never thought any different. They probably had no idea you thought him dead. You smooth the tablecloth in front of you and don’t meet his eye, ashamed.

“They’d love to see you,” he says.

The waitress arrives with sandwiches for both of you. Tommy acknowledges her with a slight nod but doesn’t look away from you. To get out of his gaze you do, making eye contact with her as you thank her.

Tommy’s still looking at you, eyes wide as he waits for your response “A lot’s changed. You should come home, take a look for yourself.” He suggests once the waitress has moved away.

Your head drops, to look at the plate. “It’s not home anymore.” You reply glancing up. There’s a frown on Tommy’s face, more around the eyes than his mouth. “Work’s always so busy, it’s hard to get away.” It’s a weak excuse and you aren’t entirely sure why you make it. You take a mouthful of your sandwich so you can’t say anymore.

Tommy sits back, arm hanging over the back of the chair, sandwich untouched. “Must be, it seems there are babies being born all over at the moment.”

“Oh,” you’re hit by how different things are from the hopes and dreams you had when you were young. “No, I’m not a midwife. I work at the repatriation hospital, for those still recovering from the war.” You take another bite of your sandwich.

Tommy sits forward in his chair again, his fingers reaching out for your hand, brushing over your wrist. “There’s a lot of that around too,” he acknowledges, his voice softer.

You swallow hard, forcing the question you want to ask back down and replacing it with another. “How’s Ada?”

Tommy sits back in his chair again, but less relaxed, his body stiff. A sign he’s irritated, you could still read him like a book it seemed. “She’s good, misses you. So does Finn, and everyone else. Like I said they’d love to see you.” There’s irritation in his voice. He flexes his jaw, looking away from you for a moment before he takes the final mouthful of tea from his cup. “Shall I order another pot?” He offers, cooly.

You check your watch and shake your head. “No, I’d better be getting back to quarters. Matron will be wondering where I am. I’m on shift again tonight.”

“So soon? You’ve not finished your sandwich.” For a moment the coolness slips away.

“I’m not that hungry. I’m sorry, I’ve really got to get back.”

A hard look flits over Tommy’s face, but he recovers quickly and stands, crossing to the counter to pay while you gather your things. At the door, he helps you with your coat. He holds the door for you as you step out. Outside the door you both stop, neither able to properly look at the other.

“I’d better be going,” you say to break the long, uncomfortable silence.

“I’ll walk you,” Tommy says, it borders on an order rather than an offer. It makes you wonder who he’d become during the war.

“No, thank you.” You decline, Tommy’s lips purse slightly in irritation. “The others will be watching, it’s best if I’m alone.”

“I’d rather you didn’t walk around alone at night.” Tommy counters smoothly.

“It’s early evening at best.” You counter. There was nothing unusual in this routine, Tommy had always been protective, often maddeningly so. “I walk myself home regularly.”

The muscles stand out on Tommy’s jaw as he kisses his teeth and looks away. He flicks his hand in a way that seems to be dismissing you. “I’m sure.” You can’t miss the sarcastic tone.

It’s like a slap in the face. But your pain quickly turns to anger. How dare he come here like nothing has happened in the past few years? As if you hadn’t been alone since the moment he left for the war. “I can look after myself.” You snap.

Tommy’s jaw twitches again before he looks down on you, his blue eyes hard. “Fuck! Why is this so difficult?”

“I thought you were dead Tommy,” You begin, but Tommy cuts you off.

“Yeah and it seems like you’d prefer it fucking stayed that way!” The ferocity of his words cut through you, crushing your heart, unable to bear it you turn and run. Not looking back as Tommy yells after you. “I thought you might have missed me. But, I’m just a friend, I was obviously fucking delusional to think you might be pleased to see me!”

Gasping for breath, you crash through the front door of the quarters. You lean back against it, trying to compose yourself before anyone sees you. Matron appears a heartbeat later, holding open the door to her office.

“Sister,” it’s both a greeting and an instruction.

Resigned you trudge the few steps to her office. You’re surprised when she directs you to one of the wingback chairs by the fire rather than the straight-backed timber chair in front of her desk. You remain standing however and launch straight into your apology. “I’m sorry Matron, about earlier and now this,” you gesture to your face, before drawing a deep breath and rushing on with your explanation “I didn’t invite him, I didn’t even know,” You trail off, stopped by Matron raising her hand in front of you.

“Tea?” The Matron offers, as you fall quiet.

“Tea?” you repeat dumbly. Matron nods. “I have night shift.” You tell her.

“I’m aware. You have time, take a seat,” she instructs nodding towards the chair again. You follow her direction and move closer to the chair, but still don’t sit.

“He’s the man in the photo, in your room?” She asks as she removes the kettle from the fire. It’s not really a question, the Matron is observant and astute. “You were told he was killed in the war, weren’t you?”

Tears fill your eyes, and your throat tightens, so you nod.

“Praise be,” She says, her eyes casting upwards as she sets the kettle down and crosses herself.

Hot, silent tears roll down your cheeks, and you wrap your arms around yourself. A horrible truth ripping you apart.

“So, these are tears of joy?” She asks dryly, placing a cup of tea in your hands and gently guiding you down into the chair.

You shake your head. “It’s not a miracle Matron. If he had written, I would have known he wasn’t dead.” Your tone is decidedly bitter.

“Tsk,” Matron tuts. “The man survived. You survived. He found you. It’s a miracle.” She settles back in her chair, taking a sip of her tea.

This wasn’t your first time in Matron’s office. You knew from experience, that this was Matron’s way, tea and a patient ear. Not that she wasn’t a stickler for rules and discipline. No quarter was given for an unstarched collar or an unmade bed. But unlike many of her contemporaries, she understood her nurses had lives that weren’t always easy or without complication. Experience had taught her that those issues were better uncovered with quiet calm and solved with compassion.

You take a sip of your tea. “We had a fight.” You admit.

“Hmm?” Matron hums, retrieving a tin of biscuits from the drawer of the small side table and offering you one.

“We’ve never had a fight before,” you realise, taking a biscuit without thinking and placing it on your saucer. You sit holding your cup for a good minute before you feel you can speak. Matron waits calmly. “Not really a fight.” You pause again, “We just couldn’t seem to understand each other. When we were young, we didn’t even need words, we just knew, and today,” you shrug unable to find words to describe the level of disconnection you had felt.

You sit watching the fire for a few moments, trying to gather your thoughts, to understand what had happened. You find yourself floundering. “I can’t tell you how many times I dreamed.” You stop yourself. “They were silly little fantasies really, about him coming home. Seeing each other again,” You pause again, “I’m not a fool, I never thought it would be the same as before. Not just that we were adults now, I know France changed me, I’m sure it changed him too. But I never imagined we’d lose the connection we had. Ever. It was awful today, stilted, like there was this, wall between us.” You pause, thinking that even as children a wall hadn’t stopped your connection, you had found a way. You chew your lip trying to stop a fresh round of tears.

“I ruined it.” You admit sorrowfully. “The whole time all I could think was why did he stop writing to me. He was alive, so why didn’t he write? Just one letter and I would have known he was alright. Why couldn’t I just be grateful?” You wrap your arms around yourself.

Matron puts down her cup and places her warm hand on your knee.

Biting the inside of your lip, you blink rapidly and look again at Matron’s face, it’s kind and warm and open. “I think he was upset that I introduced him to you as just my friend.” You emphasise the just, as Tommy had. “I didn’t mean it like that, I know men aren’t allowed, and I was trying to explain to you that he wasn’t someone who needed to be sent away, that he wasn’t an unwelcome suitor.” You look across at Matron hoping she understands.

She nods, but still offers no council.

The grandfather clock in the hall begins its deep percussion to alert you to the time. A reminder that life must, as always, go on. “I better go get ready for my shift.” You say standing.

Matron stands as you do, moving to the door and placing her hand on the handle but not turning it. “The war changed everyone it touched, yourself included.” This time it’s you that nods but adds nothing. Matron turns the door handle but pauses again still not opening it, bringing her other hand to your shoulder. “Perhaps he had dreamt of a different reunion too.”

Her words stay with you throughout your shift. You oscillate between anger at Tommy and yourself, then spiralling from anger into despair. You keep it all inside while you dress wounds, while you offer comfort and once while you offered prayer. The prayer felt like a fraud, it had for a long time. You could no longer believe in a good and benevolent God after France. Each act of your vocation had seemed to carry extra weight and by the end of your shift, it was all you could do to drag yourself back to quarters.

Tired and drained you climb the stairs to your room, bypassing the dining room and your colleagues eating breakfast. Hoping to just sneak to bed with no-one noticing. As your foot hits the stop stair Matron calls out to you.

“Sister, may I have a moment?”

“Yes Matron.” You reply dull, but compliant. The journey down the stairs is just as exhausting. Matron steps back into her office, rather than watch your descent. You follow her inside. Entering the first thing you notice are the yellow roses in the ornate vase on Matron’s desk. Your favourite flower, another dagger in the heart. Tommy had once promised, when you had seen a similar bouquet in a florist’s window as a child and been awed by their beauty, that when he was a man and had money, he would buy you some. You’d teased him that he would just steal them.

“Mr Shelby came to see you last night.” Matron interrupts your memory, standing and gesturing to the flowers. “He brought these.”

You sigh, “I told him I was working,”

Matron holds up her hand, stopping your apology. Between her fingers a small envelope. “He left this as well.” She says holding it out to you.

You take the envelope, smiling as you note the florists mark on the back of the envelope. The small card reads, simply Not stolen T. The familiar handwriting brings more tears to your eyes. You knew it was an apology, of sorts, even with you Tommy had never been very good at them. You were sure it was because of all the times he’d been forced to apologise to his father, and that those apologies still didn’t appease the monster who would beat him anyway.

“Matron?” you take a deep breath unsure how to continue.

“He and I spoke, briefly, I think you should go see him before he goes back to Birmingham.”

“What did he say?” You ask, stunned.

“Nothing he can’t tell you himself, if you’re quick. Do you know where he’s staying?” Matron enquires.

“Um, yes, the Regatta.” You remember.

“Quickly then, upstairs and change and I’ll call you a cab.” Matron instructs. You don’t move. “Come on, chop, chop.” Matron claps her hands and you turn for the door. “Your flowers,” Matron says.

Quickly you turn back carefully picking up the vase. “Thank you, Matron.”

Your heart is pounding as you make your way down the long hall, counting off room numbers as you pass. At 211 you stop, raise your hand and stop again. Your turn and walk back down the hall, almost to the elevator before you stop again. Squaring your shoulders, you stride back to room 211 and knock on the door.

Nothing.

The manager had told you Tommy hadn’t checked out, so you knock again.

Nothing.

Heart sinking you decide to try one more time. You knock, pressing your ear to the door to see if you can hear any movement inside. “Tommy? Tommy, it’s Lyra.”

Nothing.

You close your eyes, unsure what to do. The ding of the elevator brings you to your senses, Tommy didn’t want to see you. You resign yourself and start to walk back down the hall. You fix your eyes firmly on the ornate carpet, afraid that making eye contact with another soul may just break you.

“Lyra?”

Your head snaps up at the familiar, husky voice. “Tommy?”

“What are you doing here?” Tommy asks, surprised.

“I got your flowers,”

“Did I get you in trouble?” Tommy asks, hand rubbing over the back of his head. For a moment he looks like the boy you remember.

“No. I told you I was working,”

“I thought you were blowing me off,” Tommy admits.

His statement makes you frown, sad again at the distance between you “I wasn’t. I wouldn’t.” You tell him wearily.

Tommy nods. Glancing back to the elevator as it dings again. “You want to come in?” He asks, gesturing towards his room.

You nod, “I think so.”

“I’d like you to,” Tommy says quietly, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back.

Once you’re inside he helps you with your coat, laying it on the bed carefully. Before he can remove his, you pluck a piece of hay from his collar. Up close you can smell the stale liquor and cigarette smoke, along with the sharp and acidic scent of opium. None of which are hidden by the softer smells of horse and hay. You hold up the piece of straw for him to see.

Tommy sighs. “I’ve got a business acquaintance; he’s got a stable, I went to have a look at the horses.”

You feel a tightness in your chest. The stables were always Tommy’s safe place; when things got bad at home, or at school. You always knew you would find him up at Charlie’s Yard, in with the horses. You brush some horsehair from his sleeve, knowing in your heart he’d spent the night in the stables. You move closer, this time to brush some dirt from his cheek.

Tommy turns his cheek as your hand makes contact, taking a step away to remove his coat. “I’d better clean up,” he jerks his head towards the closed door you assume opens to the bathroom.

He leaves the door of the bathroom open as he strips down to his undershirt, pushing up the sleeves to wash his face and hands. You sit, gingerly, on the edge of the bed. Nervous again. Fingers entwined, you close your eyes, offering, for the first time in a long time, a prayer. It was simple, but heartfelt, asking God that, this time you and Tommy would find a way to communicate. To connect like you used to.

As you open your eyes you see Tommy leaning against the doorway, rubbing his neck with a towel. He smiles a little. “You never used to be shy of seeing me in my underclothes.” He teases, but you can hear the caution in his voice.

You smile nervously in return. “No,” you say slowly, “but it’s been a long time.”

“Feels like forever,” Tommy says quietly.

“The flowers are beautiful. Thank you.”

“I paid for them,” Tommy says quickly. “Just like I promised.” He looks at you intently, the towel balled up in his hand.

“I know. They’re why I came.” Tommy’s eyes soften inviting you to go on. “You promised to buy me those flowers,” you pause “and I promised we’d always be friends.”

“We promised.” Tommy corrects you. “And we promised we would always talk about things.”

You nod solemnly, “Everything. No matter what.” You repeat the vow, the palm of your hand tingling where you had cut it to make your blood oath.

Tommy throws the towel onto the vanity, his thumb rubs over his own palm absently “Everything, no matter what.” He repeats.

Still, you sit for a long moment, looking down at your hands still clasped in your lap. “Why did you stop writing to me, Tommy?”

Silence follows, you look up at Tommy, who looks for a moment like he wants to run but closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and then speaks. “I thought you had found someone.”

Your eyes widen at the explanation as you find yourself even more confused. “But why would that matter? We’ve both dated before, that never stopped us being friends.”

Tommy shakes his head, running his hand through his hair before he pulls a cigarette case from his pocket. “My fuckin’ brothers.”

“What do they have to do with anything?”

Tommy pulls a cigarette from the case, offering one to you and putting the case away when you decline with a shake of your head. He watches you over the flame of the match as he holds it to the tip. Drawing the smoke deep into his lungs his reply comes in a cloud of smoke. “You know they love you like a sister, right?”

“I love them too,” you reply honestly. While you and Tommy were best friends you had always had an easy relationship with Arthur and John. Ada as a little girl had idolised you, desperate for another female to talk to and you had been close. Even little Finn felt like family.

“They’d always ask about you. Read your letters sometimes too.” Tommy takes another deep drag, blowing the smoke towards the ceiling.

You wait for Tommy to keep speaking, but he seems lost in thought. “Tommy?”

“Them and their nonsense got me all mixed up in my head.” Tommy snaps frustratedly, motioning his hand up near his head. Before rubbing it over his face again. His breathing becomes more rapid. You begin to stand and reach out for him, concerned. “Are you alright?”

Tommy turns away banging his hand against the door frame. “Why was it so much easier to talk when we were kids?”

“Things were different. We were different.” You say moving closer. Tommy jolts away from the hand you are reaching out for him. Spinning away and grabbing hold of the sink as his jaw tenses and he glares at himself in the mirror.

“I’m different,” Tommy says flatly, he turns his head to face you, still gripping the sink so hard his knuckles are white. You hesitate outside the doorway unsure of what to do. Suddenly an idea strikes you and you pull the bathroom door closed between you.

“What are you doing?” Tommy asks, his tone unsure, worried, as he jiggles the handle.

“Making it easier,”

“We’re too old for games,” Tommy says with a sigh.

“It’s not a game, Tommy.” You assure him, leaning against the door. “When we were young, we used to talk through the wall, all our deepest secrets passed through that wall. Maybe that’s why it was easier. We couldn’t see each other.” There’s silence and then you feel a weight press against the other side of the door. “Tell me what happened with your brothers.” You encourage.

“We all got leave, in Paris, at the same time. John and Arthur got drunk,” his voice sounds close, warm through the timber.

“Of course,” you say, rolling your eyes, but still smiling fondly at the thought.

“Of course,” Tommy echo’s in a weary tone, before continuing with his story. “We were in some club. There were all-sorts there, Allied forces, not just soldiers but auxiliary staff too, nurses and clerks, lots of women. Lots of dancing, people going off with each other,” Tommy pauses.

“I know the kind of place,”

“Arthur asked how you were. I told him I hadn’t heard from you in a few weeks. John said you’d probably found someone. I said that it didn’t matter if you had that we would still be friends, that you were probably just busy, or the post was slow.” Tommy’s speaking in a monotone, relaying facts. You close your eyes realising how happy you were just to hear his voice and feel his weight on the other side of the door.

“I danced with this girl for a bit and when we were having a drink back at the table she asked if she could write to me.” Tommy stops again, you can hear him breathing as he gathers his thoughts. “John made some smartass comment about how I already had a pen pal. Then Arthur made a big production about how it was okay because you would understand, we were just friends. Poor girl took off like a shot.”

You feel the gentle thud of what you imagine is Tommy’s head pressing against the door. “Did you like her?” you ask kindly.

“She was nice enough I suppose, but no, not really,” Tommy says plainly. “Arthur said that it would be like that for you. If you were seeing someone and they got wind of us writing that they’d run a mile. Said I’d be doing you a kindness if I stopped.”

“No,” you whisper quietly, eyes closing as you try to ignore the pain in your chest. For a long minute, neither of you says anything. You can feel, in your bones, in the air, through the wood that Tommy’s still not telling you everything. Throwing caution to the wind you push again. “You never listened to anything John and Arthur had to say about us before, Tommy. Why did you really stop writing?”

“You stopped writing to me,” Tommy says, sadness heavy in his voice.

“I didn’t! I wrote whenever I could. I had about a months worth returned to me and then,”

“Fuck,” Tommy hisses. “After what Arthur and John said, when the letters stopped it just made sense and,” he stops, the door opens and Tommy steps through, taking your upper arms in his hands. His voice is strained, “Fuck! Let’s just forget what happened during the fuckin’ war, yeah. It’s over. None of it fuckin’ matters.”

“It mattered to me; your letters mattered to me.” You protest.

“Why?” Tommy demands.

“I thought I’d lost you. They were all I had.” You confess, dropping your eyes to the buttons on his undershirt, wishing you still had a door between you. “No one understood.”

It was true, all around you other women lost their family, fathers, sons, brothers, husbands, fiance's and people understood, allowed them to grieve. Without a label, the deep affection you had for Tommy made no sense to others. They couldn’t understand, and you were too heartbroken to explain. To comfort yourself you had clung to the one part of him you had left, his letters, now read so often they threatened to fall to dust at any moment.

“Understand what?” Tommy pushes, a tiny hint of desperation in his voice.

You chew on your lip for a moment trying to make sense of your feelings. Tommy watches you. All this time and what exactly had affected you so deeply when you thought you had lost him still evades you. How could you tell him that you felt as if part of you had been amputated? You’d seen enough to know the pain, the feeling of loss that doesn’t end. The shock of losing a part of you, of losing something you never doubted would always be there. Like a man missing a leg, you felt unbalanced, unsure of how to participate in a world not designed for you. Men felt pain in hands and feet they no longer had, you were the same, a pain in your chest that had never gone away.

You place your hand on his chest convincing yourself again he was really there in front of you. “Us,” You whisper.

Tommy’s eyes close, hands coming to your waist pulling you closer, his forehead resting on yours. He opens his eyes again, capturing you in the blue abyss of them. Before you can lose yourself in them he kisses you, softly, hesitantly. He holds your gaze as he pulls away.

“I never stopped writing Tommy, not even after I thought you were gone.” You confess, hand coming to his cheek. Tommy presses his cheek to your palm and sighs deeply. “I missed you so much. I still wanted, needed, to talk to you.” Tommy takes your face in his hands. “Just one letter and I would have known you were alive Tommy.” You sob.

Pulling you to him Tommy holds you tight. “I’m sorry,” Tommy whispers into your hair and you can feel the truth in his words. “I never wanted to hurt you, I thought you were happy, that you were better off,”

“Why?” you ask moving enough in his embrace to see his face.

“I’m not the same, things happened in France,” Tommy’s face twists in anguish.

You reach out, hand stroking his bristled cheek, relishing the feel of his warm skin against your palm. Tommy sighs and rests his head against yours again. “None of us are the same. None of us.” You tell him. It was true, loud noises made you jump, the smell of sulphur made you nervous and the feel of mud or dirt on your hands made your skin crawl.

A silence draws out between you again, far less awkward this time. Slowly your breathing falls into sync. Your eyes close and you fall into an embrace.

“Lyra,” Tommy’s breath is warm against your ear.

You open your eyes, chewing your lip. “Mm?”

“Come home with me. Just for a few days, a holiday. Give us some more time.” Again, he takes your face in his hands, watching you intently. “I can’t say goodbye again so soon.”

It’s evening by the time you get away. Hasty arrangements were made, John and Arthur going on ahead, you organising leave and packing a case.

At the station Tommy finds an empty carriage and ushers you inside, watching as you sit in the corner. Putting your suitcase up in the racks, Tommy turns, smiling as he looks down on you. He sits on the same bench, but closer to the window. He pats the space next to him invitingly. You shake your head shyly, looking out at the still crowded platform meaningfully. Tommy smirks and rolls his eyes.

You sit in silence, watching the crowds. Tommy’s hand moving closer and closer to yours until the sides of your hands brush against each other. A bolt of electricity passing through you, like a shot or a burn. But you don’t pull away. He hooks his pinkie around yours as the guard blows the whistle and the train begins to slowly pull out of the station. There’s something both silly and sincere in his action and you can’t help but smile.

As the train picks up speed and the buildings of the city start to blur Tommy tugs gently on your hand encouraging you closer. He looks around the empty carriage meaningfully when you hesitate. You relent and slide across. Tommy wraps his arm around your shoulders, and you rest your head against him. He kisses the crown of your head and rests his head against yours.

As the buildings turn to houses, Tommy strokes your hair. “I’d like to read the letters sometime, the ones you wrote me when you thought I was gone.”

You sigh deeply, you shuffle a little so you can see his face. “I burnt them.”

“Oh,” You can see the question on his face before he asks it.

“Do you remember that funeral your mum and Uncle Charlie went to, the old Gypsy woman, the one in the field?”

Tommy nods. “We bunked off school and Charlie caught us.”

You smile remembering. “He answered all the questions I had about Gypsy’s.”

Tommy’s hand comes to your face, his thumb rubbing along your cheekbone “The smoke?” He asks. You nod. Tommy’s face darkens for a moment, but lightens as his eyes search yours “You thought I’d go to heaven?”

“Of course.” You say, hands coming to his face, holding it tenderly. You lean in, kissing him with the lightest of touches.

Tommy’s hand slides into your hair, holding the back of your head as he kisses you back. Your hands begin to roam, revelling in the silkiness of his shorn head, feeling the warmth of his skin and his pulse in his neck. Kisses getting firmer and needier. Tommy nips at your lip and your heart is pounding, nearly leaping out of your chest it feels so light. Tommy kisses your neck, another shock of electricity setting your skin on fire. You both move closer, hands ceaselessly exploring each other, breathing becoming ragged.

“Tickets!” A voice booms outside the door. You freeze for a moment before quickly sitting back in the seat properly. Sitting up straight like you’re on parade.

Good evening,” The conductor greets you as he opens the door of the carriage. “Tickets?” He asks, a smirk as he takes in you and Tommy. Horrified you desperately trying to straighten your clothes and fix your hair, knowing your lipstick is a mess.

Tommy, on the other hand, makes no attempt to fix his appearance simply pulling a few pounds from his pocket, “Two for Birmingham.”

“Heading home?” The conductor asks conversationally as he takes the money and exchanges them for tickets.

“Yes.” Tommy agrees as he takes the tickets and puts them in his pocket.

“Enjoy your trip.” The conductor says to Tommy, opening the door again.

“Thank you.” You say as he closes the door again.

Tommy settles back in the seat again, arm around you and pulling you closer, the frenetic energy of a moment ago gone for now “It will be good to get home.” He reflects quietly.

You snuggle into him, your hand taking his and entwining your fingers. As you listen to the gentle thud of Tommy’s heart you know that your destination doesn’t matter. Birmingham or Bayeux, you were already home.

---

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the--highlanders · 3 years

Text

About Moving (Or Staying Still)

In which Jamie opens a physical door, and finds a metaphorical door already open.

on ao3.

The TARDIS had a habit, it seemed, of getting rid of old rooms almost as soon as their occupants had left. He had seen it himself, not long after that terrible business on Telos. It had been a few days since Ben and Polly had left, sure, what with the Cybermen, and the Daleks – but he had only wanted to nip into their room and grab a book that he had left in there. He knew the way to it like the back of his hand. Around a corner from the console room, five doors down from his own room. There was no way he could have gotten lost. And yet when he went to open the door, there was – nothing. Not even a mark to show where the door should have been.

The book had turned up on his bedside table a few days later, and he was certain it had not been the Doctor who had put it there. So clearly the TARDIS remembered something, in her own way. Maybe returning the book had been a kind of apology.

He had heard Ben and Polly themselves talk about rooms vanishing, too. Someone called Dodo, whose room had been there for a day after they had arrived before simply melting back into the ship. Gone forever, or sent somewhere else, to be stumbled upon on a lazy day when there was nothing to do but explore the endless corridors. And the Doctor would mention other rooms, sometimes, other names that even Ben and Polly could not put to faces. Steven, Vicki, Ian, Barbara. Susan, occasionally. He would cast around for their rooms like he thought they ought to still be there, before remembering that the TARDIS had swallowed them up again, and patting the corridor walls like he was rewarding an animal for doing a trick.

Which was all to say that the door in front of him really should not have been there.

But there it was, plain and unassuming, the same as it had always been. The door to Victoria’s bedroom.

It had been – well, if he was honest, he had no idea how long it had been since she had left. If their usual mad dash from one crisis to another was not enough, there was no way he could tell how long they had spent in that funny sort of nothingness, the place where words in books came to life. It might have been hours; it might have been weeks. Zoe’s room had arrived without incident, as new rooms normally did, so there was nothing wrong with making rooms. Just getting rid of them.

There was always the chance, he supposed, that this was a new door, and it just happened to be in the exact same place. If he opened it, he would find a pile of boxes, or a machine, or a swimming pool, or whatever else the TARDIS had conjured up this time. Aye, that was the most likely explanation.

Still, there was no harm in opening it, was there? Just to make sure?

He opened it just a crack at first, like something might spring out and attack him if he gave it the chance. It was Victoria’s room, alright, apparently just as she had left it. When nothing sharp or solid collided with his face, he eased the door open a little more, only to be met with the soft, muffled sound of sniffling.

Hurriedly, he drew the door closed again, his mind whirling. It could not be a stranger. Nobody could get this far into the TARDIS without the Doctor knowing, surely, and if the Doctor knew, he would know. Probably. Chances were it was a recording, something Victoria had left playing by accident before she had left, and never come back to turn off again. But then the TARDIS would have turned it off herself, he thought. No, another part of him argued back. You’re just being hopeful.

Of course, he knew perfectly well who he really wanted it to be. Victoria, materialised back into her room somehow, safe and sound and solid and full to the brim with regret for ever leaving them. Oh, it was impossible, he knew that just as well. There was no way Victoria could be in that room. She would be happily settled in with her new family, and her new life, thinking of him and the Doctor as a distant dream – a pleasant one, he hoped, but the sort that left you smiling when you woke up and then faded before the morning was over. It was just pure selfishness on his part that was making him wish for her to be back.

And he had thrown away his chance to see her again, too, to check that she really had made the right choice. He could have asked to see her before they had last left Earth. Those military chappies would have been happy to take them, he was sure, after all the Doctor had done for them. But he had been dumped in hospital, injured and useless, and then they had been in such a rush to get back to the TARDIS, and he had simply run out of time. Or lost his nerve. One of the two. What right did he have to wish for her back, after that?

But if it was not Victoria, then – who was it?

He shoved the door open wider this time, ready to startle whoever the intruder was. Or to play it casual, if it turned out to be just a recording. But it was none of those things. It was the Doctor, of all people, perched on the edge of the bed, turning a handkerchief over and over through his fingers. After a moment, Jamie realised it was Victoria’s, her initials just visible in one of the corners, picked out in delicate white thread. The Doctor did not seem to be using it for anything, despite the wetness around his eyes, just wringing it in his hands. He did not look as if he had heard Jamie open the door, either, just staring at the opposite wall.

“Doctor?” Jamie said softly. “Are ye – are ye alright?”

That made him spring up, flicking the handkerchief behind his back. It sailed out of his fingers, catching the air to float down gently onto the bed. Jamie watched it fall, and the Doctor turned to watch it too, his lips slightly parted as if he had only just noticed the thing. “Yes,” he said at last, like he had not really heard what Jamie had said. “Did you need something?”

“No, I just -” How could he explain to the Doctor why he had come in? That he had been so curious to know why the door had been left there? Better to settle for a half-truth. “I thought I heard ye cryin’, that’s all.”

“Good gracious, Jamie.” The Doctor’s smile might have been more convincingly reassuring if the toss of his head had not made the light catch on his damp cheeks, highlighting them for a moment. “I can assure you, I haven’t been crying.”

“Oh, aye?” Padding across the room, he eased himself down beside the Doctor. His fingers hovered over the handkerchief in the Doctor’s hands for a moment, but he pulled them away a moment later. The Doctor was right. It was not something to be used, not now. Instead he plucked out the crumpled square of fabric that sat in the Doctor’s front pocket, shaking it out and rubbing it over the Doctor’s cheeks until they were dry. Like he was drying the cheeks of a tearful child. The Doctor said nothing as he worked, just gazed balefully up at him, his lower lip ever so slightly stuck out. “What’re ye doin’ in here, then?”

“Oh, I was just – just coming to -” Words failed him at last, and the Doctor almost seemed to deflate beneath his touch, shrinking into himself. “Oh, I don’t know, Jamie. I wanted to see h – it. I wanted to see it.”

Occasionally, Jamie had wondered just why the TARDIS got rid of rooms so quickly. In a few moments of fancy, he had imagined that she was a bit like the Doctor. She liked to move on as fast as she could, and not come back. Maybe getting rid of rooms was a way of getting around the grief of leaving someone behind. It was a feeling he knew too well himself to blame her for. And then he would shake himself, and remind himself that he was sounding far too much like the Doctor. The TARDIS probably did it to save space, or something like that. Something practical and logical. Who had ever heard of a ship grieving for someone?

But – suppose she was grieving, in a way. Or at least, the Doctor was, where nobody could see, and the TARDIS would keep the room for as long as he needed. A private shrine, until he had picked himself up and moved on.

And if the Doctor was grieving – well, Jamie did not quite know what to do with that. He had seen him distressed over death, horrified by loss, sure. But all that had been so… fleeting. People they had barely known, planets they had skimmed past. Sad, in the moment, but easy enough for the Doctor to move on from. Or so he had thought, anyway. Who knew what the Doctor did, in those hours when he would vanish into the depths of the TARDIS, where nobody could find him?

“It’s alright,” he said tentatively, putting his arm around the Doctor’s shoulders. The handkerchief was still clutched in his hand, and he scrunched it up into his fist, rubbing his thumb over the corner of it. “It’s alright tae miss her.”

“I know it’s alright,” the Doctor snapped back.

“Alright, alright.” Leaning back, Jamie busied himself with stuffing the handkerchief back into the Doctor’s pocket. The edge of it drooped out, crumpled and unruly, but he supposed the Doctor would not mind. “Why didn’t ye tell me?” he said at last. The Doctor simply leant over to press his forehead against Jamie’s shoulder. “Aye, maybe I shouldnae have made such a fuss. I’m sorry for bein’ cross with ye ‘cause ye didnae stop her going.” Something hummed against his arm, and it took him a moment to realise that the Doctor’s words had been muffled into obscurity against his sleeve. “Eh?”

“You missed her,” the Doctor repeated, only slightly louder. “I know you two were close. I didn’t want to – mm – burden you.”

Guilt blossomed in Jamie’s chest at that, its thorns burying themselves in his lungs and throat until he was almost unable to breathe. “Aye, I do miss her,” he said. “I miss her a lot. An’ I’m not gonnae – that’s not gonnae change. But ye could’ve told me.”

Truth be told, there was a touch of frustration laced through his guilt. It was a shameful thing to feel, with the Doctor so upset, but there it was. He always did this, he thought. Hiding away whatever he was feeling, never saying anything. What if he had been grieving in secret all this time, for a thousand different people and places, and never said a word? Where did that leave Jamie, if the Doctor had never even thought to tell him? Or worse still, if he thought Jamie would not want to know?

But now was not the time. Later, maybe – but not now.

“Why should I have to tell you?” There was a little bitterness in the Doctor’s voice, too. “Of course I miss her.”

And that only made him feel worse. He could not argue with that, not really. “Aye, maybe you’re right,” he said, as gently as he could. “Ye just – it was never like this after Ben an’ Polly left, ye know. I never saw it bein’ so bad, anyway.”

“Oh, I suppose it wasn’t.” So he had been honest about that, at least. That was something. Straightening up, the Doctor nestled his head against Jamie’s shoulder rather than his arm. “I’m getting old, Jamie.”

Jamie snorted softly at that. “Weren’t ye sayin’ the other day how young ye are?”

“Oh, well, practically, yes – relatively speaking I couldn’t claim to be much older than you, but -” There had been a brief note of amusement in the Doctor’s voice, but it faded as quickly as it had come. “They all leave, you know, Jamie. All of them. I can’t seem to make them stay. And there’s been so many of them, now.”

There was nothing for Jamie to do but squeeze the Doctor’s shoulders again. “She wanted tae go,” he said softly. Whether he was saying it for himself or for the Doctor, he could not say. “We couldnae have done anythin’ tae keep her here. An’ she wouldn’t have been happy.”

“Oh, yes, I know, but -” Fresh tears were welling up in the Doctor’s eyes now. Reaching his free hand over, Jamie brushed the first drops away with his thumb, smearing them over his cheeks like paint. “Perhaps I should have done more. Been more understanding.”

“Aye, I wonder that too. But I think she wanted somethin’ else, an’ we couldnae give her that. An’ that’s not our fault. Not hers either.” He sighed, long and deep and heavy, like he was emptying something old and stale out of his lungs. “It’s just – life.”

“But suppose -’

“’Spose nothing. Ye said it yourself, she had tae make up her own mind.”

Turning his head a little, the Doctor smiled against Jamie’s arm, the curve of his lips ticklish through his shirt. “I didn’t think you were paying attention, when I said that. I thought you were too angry with me.”

“I wasnae angry. Well – maybe a wee bit angry.”

“Mm.” The Doctor’s hand crept around his waist, squeezing him back. “You won’t go, will you? Ah – not just yet.”

Tilting his head over, Jamie rested it against the top of the Doctor’s. “Don’t worry,” he said, so quietly he wondered whether the Doctor could hear it. “I’ll stay.”

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