#he's w/ the irish mob

[pengold]

Does everyone work in the mafia in your TNMN au???? (If so, sick.)

Angus works for the Italian mafia, but everyone is unaware of his position in it.

Roman works as the accountant who cleans the money for the Italian mafia, however, he only ever interacts with them through Angus.

Mclooy Rudboys is the Head of the Irish mafia and his son Steven is training to take over.

Izaack is a reporter trying to get a scoop on the mafia, thus why he lives in the building.

Nacha's husband was the right hand to Mclooy so she is under his protection now.

Dr. W Afton is an underground doctor who "helps" out anyone who comes to him. If you can't pay him, he experiments with your body, unless you bargain your way out.

Alf Cappuccino is a lawyer on the Italian mob's pay list.

Anastacha M. is building a mini mafia at her school, similar to the Sukeban of Japan.

Gloria works for the Irish mob, she is their accountant, and she does it to support her husband's writing career.

Milkman is just a serial killer and everyone in the apartment thinks he is just a normal nice guy.

The Sverchzt sisters are Russian spies. They were brought to America young and taught how to be spies from a young age.

Peachman brothers and Margarette Bubbles are not in this AU.

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| Star-Crossed ||

Pairing: Frank Castle x Female reader

W/c 13.3k

Tags/warnings: Romeo & Juliet style gangster forbidden love Punisher/Daredevil AU, super-protective Matt, Jack Murdock is alive and well, some pretty old fashioned chauvinistic values, violence and injury, (protected and unprotected) p in v sex, oral (f rec), *spoiler* (kids in the future).

Author's note: Aaaaah it's finally done! I started this in December 2022 and I've had to leave and come back to it several times trying to work out how I wanted it to go. Huge big massive thanks to @mindidjarin , @the-fox-den and @theradioactivespidergwen for all the beta help! 

If you enjoyed it, let me know!

Epilogue

The Italians and the Irish. The Castigliones and the Murdocks. Two mob families that have been feuding for generations. One mired in dealing arms and the other in throwing deadly punches with them - running illicit underground fight clubs and loan sharking. 

Matthew Murdock was one of the best fighters in the entire city; after all he was the boxer Battlin' Jack Murdock's son. 'The Devil O' Hell's Kitchen' they called him. 

And he was your big brother.

He would certainly have some choice words for you if he knew where and who you were with right now.

"Princess, fuck, you're somethin' else y'know that?" 

Your body felt flushed with heat and bliss as you collapsed in Frank Castiglione's lap in the back seat of his car, laughing as his stubbled jaw tickles you when he kisses up and down your neck, like he's still hungry for you. 

"You say that every time Frank," you smile as you push yourself up off him, tutting as he ties up the condom and throws it out the fogged window before cleaning himself up.

Sometimes you have to pinch yourself to remind yourself that you aren’t dreaming. When the man that was so terrifying they gave him the nickname of 'The Punisher' was between your thighs, or you were between his, life felt like a fever dream. 

"I'll buy us a villa in the Lakes. You'd fuckin' love it there sweetheart, I just know it. You'll wake up and enjoy your morning coffee on the bedroom balcony overlooking the water. I'll treat you so goddamn right…"

The scene he painted with his words was so clear in your mind and yet- "Frank we can't -"

"Baby, you deserve more than what I can give you in a half hour in the back of my car."

You pretend not to hear, adjusting your dress to look a little more decent.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me this is enough for you.”

You sigh softly. You didn't need to see that puppy dog look of his to know life wasn’t fair.

"No Frankie, you know it's not, but I can't be with you like that… my father and Matty would kill you if I ran away to Italy with you!"

He tucks some of your disheveled hair behind your ear. "So you're just gonna keep leading me along like this, huh? I wanna be with you baby. I want you."

"Frankie I want you too, but they'll get suspicious if I spend any more time out and about. My da and brother think I'm taking a dance class right now."

He half snorts with laughter. "Yeah well when we 'dance' you do got some smokin' hot moves sweetheart; but I don't want you showin' them ones to anyone else."

"As if I would." You say with mock indignation. "Anyway, it's a good enough cover for why I'm always so worn out when I get home!"

Frank just smirks. "Let me at least take you dancing for real. Tell the old man you're going out with your girlfriends one night."

You roll your eyes. "Aye and if one of my da's men sees me out with you? You’ll be dead and I'll at least be locked up with a flippin' chastity belt forevermore after that!"

"Baby," He pleads and his words hit you in the heart and gut, "I've gotta be with you. We gotta find a way to make this work."

You push up off of him, frowning slightly. "The only way it could work is if you go straight. Get out of the family business and be respectable. Then maybe my da would at least listen to us instead of reaching for his gun."

He just laughs. "Me? Respectable? Well I wouldn't be able to give you trinkets like this if I was makin' a 'respectable' living now, could I?"

He produces a gold necklace from his waistcoat pocket and places it in your open palm, smiling at your surprise. It's a fine dainty sparkling chain with a little heart hanging from it. You turn the heart over and your breath catches in your throat as you read the small engraved letters 'FC' in flowing script.

You feel giddy. "Oh Frankie…" 

"Now you have my heart, sugar."

You want to scream out. Why did you have to go and fall in love with a boy from a crime family? Why did it have to be a Castiglione? It went against everything your two families stood for. Why did everything have to be so damn complicated?!

You lean forward to kiss him, fingers smoothing down his lapels. "Frank, I… I love it, but you know I can't wear it…" 

He nods, resigned. "Yeah, sure." It feels like you've just kicked a puppy. You lift up your heel and slip it into your shoe for safekeeping.

"But I'll keep it with me, always."

He at least manages a smile and you kiss him again, chiding him as he sneaks his hands in places that'd make a priest blush.

"I've gotta go…"

"Ten more minutes, five even! Please babygirl, I'll make it worth your while." He pleads so prettily for the son of one of the cities' biggest mobsters and you very nearly crumble.

You extricate yourself from his grasp, trying to stay focused. If you got home late there would be questions. Your family was very protective of you. "You always make it worth my while Frankie."

"Dancing. This Friday. Wear one of your pretty dresses… mm, and don't bother with the panties."

"Frank!" 

He hands you your coat, his lips pressed into a smile that you want to kiss off his face. "Can't blame me for tryin'. Fuck, I'm missin' you already." 

"I'll seeya. Be careful." You say opening the car door and looking around to check the coast is clear before scooching out. 

"Friday, yeah?" He calls after you hopefully.

You turn and flash him a grin as your heels clack away down the alleyway. "Friday."

~

"How was yer dancin'?"

You just about manage to stop yourself from jumping six feet up in the air as Matthew appeared seemingly out of nowhere as you closed the front door behind you.

"Oh excitin' and tirin', as usual." You reply, hanging up your coat and placing your keys on the sideboard.

"Where's da?" You ask, noting that his coat was missing from its usual place.

"Out. He's meetin' some new guy. One of' the big fight brokers from the other side o' town. He can fix us up with some top names, reckons we can make some real good money."

"Why aren't you with him, Matty? You bein' the best one an all…"

"Yeah I'm goin'. Wanted to make sure you got home okay first. You've been getting back later 'n later each time yer out. Da was worried. An I was too."

You laugh. "Oh Matty, you're so damn sweet,  but I'm fine as you can well see. Us girls just love to gab on after, you know that."

He didn't look convinced but he nods all the same and that's when you see the blood drip down from behind his ear.

"Matthew yer bleedin'! I didn't know you had a fight tonight?" Your hands reach for his shoulders to keep him still as you have a closer look and then guide him towards the bathroom.

He shrugs. "Wasn't somethin' I planned exactly, one of the fuckin' Castiglione lads showed up at the gym. 

"What? Who was it?" 

It couldn't have been Frank, there was no way, but that didn't stop your heart creeping up your throat.

"One o' the younguns, just shit talkin' and tryin' to stir up trouble. Managed to clip me before I booted his arse down the street. Christ, I'd love a real excuse to fuckin' kill the lot of em…"

You stay silent, focusing your attention on gently cleaning the small cut and sticking a plaster over it.

"There. It's only a wee one, thankfully."

"Sis, yer a doll. Always lookin' out fer me." He pecks you on the cheek before grabbing his own coat and heading out. "We'll be back afore eleven. Stay inside okay?"

"Alright Matty, see you later."

~

It felt like you had been waiting months by the time Friday finally rolled around. You met the girls, Karen, Marci and Dinah at the dancehall, trying your best to pay attention and stay engaged in conversation but you found yourself constantly scanning the bar for him.

You freeze as you feel a hand on your waist and you whip around with your fist raised, ready to clock the slimeball who had dared to touch you. 

"Woah, sweetheart!" Frank raises his hands in submission and chuckles as your expression changes from pissed to adoring in a fraction of a second.

"Frankie." You purr as he slides his arm further around your waist and takes your softening fist in his hand.

"If you're done with the fightin', may I have this dance?" He asks, leading you onto the crowded dance floor. 

You nod and flash him a smile, trying to calm your excitement and allow yourself to melt into the solid mass of him, as you drift further away from your group of friends. "Missed you Frankie…" 

He pulls you even closer and you can feel the heat of him through the thin fabric of your dress.

"Missed you more. You look so gorgeous darlin'," he says. He dances with you for a while, and oh, he's got all the moves - spinning you around and dipping you for several songs before he's guiding you towards a quiet corner away from prying eyes. You giggle as he noses your ear and kisses your neck, and when you meet his hungry mouth his fingertips dance up the outside of your bare thigh making you shiver.

"Someone might see!" You warn. You should break away, but you're eager for his touch and he knows it.

"Don't care. I need a taste baby. Been thinkin' bout you all week. Can you feel that?" He asks, and it's a dumb question because he's rock hard against you and it's driving you insane. Your mouth goes dry as he takes your hand and holds it over the front of his pants. "That's what you do to me princess, fuck… that's what you do."

You glance around, your nerves on fire with the excitement of getting caught but no-one is paying the two of you any mind. 

"What about the bathrooms?" you pant into his mouth as he kisses you breathless again.

He grins, trying to hold in his groan as you squeeze his clothed cock in your hand. "What about 'em sweet girl?" He teases, knowing full well what you're implying.

As soon as the stall door's locked you pounce and it throws him for a loop. He's usually the one to take control but he'll be damned if he won't let you get what you want. You place both of his hands underneath your skirt right on your bare ass and you swear you could get addicted to seeing the expression that appears on his face as he realises you've honoured his request and you're not wearing a shred of underwear. 

He squeezes your warm flesh as you unbuckle his belt and open his pants, taking his thick cock in your hand and giving him a few firm strokes. You slip your hand into his pocket and find what you're looking for, tearing open the packet hurriedly and rolling the condom onto him before you hike up your leg and urge him to pull you up. 

It's a struggle for you both not to moan at the sensation as he sinks inside you. He turns you both so your back's against the stall, wrapping your legs around him and bracing his own legs wider so he can fuck you the way you crave. 

You hear people coming into the toilets, laughing and chatting but it's no big deal, it's the kind of place that young lovers meet to spend some 'quality time' together, and you two were no different. You'd asked your friends to let you know, unlikely as it was, if any of your family appeared, so you felt as if this was the closest to having a relaxed intimate time with Frank as you could get.

You're at eye level with him as he thrusts into you against the stall, you love being able to see his face when he's inside you and watch him try to hold it together when he comes apart. 

"Frankie," you moan, "oh fuck… feels so good!" 

He kisses you again and it's so possessive you almost lose it, his hand reaches up to grip the top of the stall to give him more leverage to drive into you deeper and harder. 

"Princess, you're a fuckin' dream. Touch yourself baby, make it feel good, that's right baby, let me feel it too."

You do as he says, unable to curb your impassioned cries as it takes almost no time at all to near the peak of your pleasure. 

"F-fuck Frank- ohh god-!"

He curls in against you, his breath hot and heavy, letting go as he feels you spasm around him with the last few desperate thrusts. 

"Marry me." He pants, still holding you tightly up against the stall door.

It takes a few seconds for the post orgasmic fog to clear from your brain so that you can process the words you think you just heard coming out of Frank's mouth.

"W-what?"

"Marry me darlin'.  I'm askin' you to make me an honest man. Will you?" 

"In the toilets? While you're still inside me?!" 

He chuckles. "Hell, I know it ain't Paris, I just… I love you."

You beam from ear to ear, laughing too. Suddenly it doesn't matter where you are, you're just overflowing with unfiltered glee at his words.

"Oh Frank, I love you too!" his lips meet yours over and over, raining kisses all over your face until you're both laughing so hard you have to slip out of his embrace.

"You uh, haven't given me an answer, sweetheart..."

You can't help your sigh as you press your palm to the side of his face. "I told you before baby, a miracle would have to happen for us to be married. I want to, Frankie, I really do more than anything but I just don't see how." 

He kisses you on the forehead before he cleans up and helps you fix your hair and dress. "Yeah, I know." He sighs.

~

You practically hop, skip and jump up the stairs when you get home, so elated with Frank's admission of love for you that the prospect of never being able to actually marry him couldn't even drag your mood down. Matt comes around the bottom of the staircase to see what all the noise was about.

"A good night then, love?" 

"Oh Matty, it was just perfect!"

He smiles wide. "Glad to hear it pet, love seein' you so happy."

You were dancing around so much that you failed to notice the necklace Frank had given you fall out of your shoe and land on one of the stairs.

But Matt noticed it. You'd disappeared into your room by the time he'd picked it up intending to give it back to you. But then he ran his thumb over the charm again and again, gritting his teeth harder each time he read the engraving. He couldn't believe it. 

He tried to stop the rage he felt rising from his gut, but this wouldn't stand, that was for sure. His little sister would not and could not ever be associated with that Castiglione scum. Matt's hands instinctively curled into fists. He was going to hunt down that son of a bitch and after he was done with him he knew he would never be going near you again.

~

When you come out of the shower and dress, the house is deadly quiet. You knew your dad was likely down at the gym training with the boys, but you called out for Matt, eager to hear about his next fixture. You loved your brother like no one else. After your mum was gone you were brought even closer together, most days you were never apart and even when he started fighting he'd always have the time to teach you some technique and even let you cut loose on him at the gym after school. He was so very protective of you when you started seeing boys, none of them were ever good enough for you and if he had his way you'd probably die a spinster. 

"Matty?" His jacket was still on the peg. Then a glint on the sideboard caught your eye. The necklace.

Oh no. 

Fuck, it must have fallen out earlier and he'd found it. You picked it up, brushing your thumb over Frank's initials. Your heart dropped like a stone as you knew what Matt was likely to do.

When you reach the warehouses down at the waterfront, you could already hear the commotion. A large circle of people stood near one of the huge open loading doors, mostly Castiglione men and some women, shouting and gesturing towards the center. You run up, forcing your way through the crowd to find the cause. 

Your eyes find Frank first. He'd look so fine if this was any other situation. The muscles on his chest and arms rippled as he stripped down to his vest. He was wrapping his hands with cloth as a few of his clan around him amped him up with whoops and hollers.

Opposite him stood your brother, still in his regular clothes with his shirt sleeves rolled up.

Your stomach lurched with a rioting combination of butterflies and bile. 

They were going to fight.

"No!" You shout, pushing your way past the crowd and running between them. You're not sure which one of them you were yelling at, your heart tearing itself in two with the prospect of what was about to happen.

"Go home wee girl," Matt barks, and Frank catches your eye. 

"He's right for once baby, get out of here. You don't need to watch me beat his ass."

"Frankie, no! Just let me talk to him, you don't have to do this, you don't need to fight!" You wheel around to face your brother. Your blood. 

"Please Matty, you don't understand! Stop," your eyes burn with the tears that threaten to flow. "Please don't, you can't… I love him!" 

You try pushing him back but it has little effect. He keeps on staring past you in the direction of Frank, his head tilting minutely as he listens to him tie off the last of the wrap and clap his hands together, testing them.

"I think I understand enough. An' I'll be talkin' to ya later, that's for fuckin' sure, now get on home!" Matt growls.

You shiver, feeling sick with anger and the sheer frustration that the two men you love with all your heart were going to fight because of you. It wasn't heroic, it wasn't romantic, it was raw and ugly and you wished you could do something to stop them.

"You wanna set rules?" Frank asks.

Matt almost snorts with laughter. "Rules? Rules?! Don't think ya know the meanin' o' the word seein' as you've had yer greasy mitts on my fuckin' sister!"

Frank wasn't going to publicly shame you by telling him that it was you who had come to him. No, if there was ever a hope for the two of you he'd play this clean and right by your family like you wanted.

"Fine." He nods, smacking his fists together and starting to circle his opponent. "C'mon then Murdock, if you wanna do it this way, ding-ding. Let's go."

They drew up fast to each other and it was Frank who threw the first punch. Matt easily ducked it, dodging to the side and countering with his own punch that you couldn't see land through your tears; but it hit its mark as you hear that sick sound that you would usually relish when you watched the betting fights. But not today. 

You run back home in a daze, unable to think of anything other than what if Matt kills him, and what will your father do to the two of you if he doesn't? 

Tears continue to blind you and your heart is a dull, burning weight in your chest as you reach the front door. You can hear the TV on in the living room so you run upstairs avoiding the inevitable questions. You throw yourself on your bed and cry into your pillow until you finally hear the front door slam. 

The voices of your father and Matthew are muffled at first and then your da is shouting. You cower as you expect him to come crashing through your door but it doesn't happen. A little while later there's a soft knocking at your door and Matt's voice floats through. "Little dove…  c'mon lass, it's over."

You let out a loud sob, the horror of what he might have done washing over you, he'd never killed anyone before but… 

"I hate you!" You push yourself up for long enough to scream through the door before burying your face in your bed covers again; pained heaving breaths wracking through your body as you cry your heart out.

He comes in and sits down on the edge of your bed as you turn away towards the wall. "You'll love me again soon enough. I've saved you a life o' heartbreak angel. He knows he won't be comin' near you again."

He sounds stuffed up, like his nose might be broken. Good. The words do little to stem the flood of anger you feel but now you know Frank is alive at least. "You can't stop me from seeing him, and you sure as hell can't control who I love!" 

Matt smooths his hand over your arm but you jerk away from his touch.

"Here, shush now, you want Da rippin ya a new one? I've only just managed to calm 'im down cause he's none too happy about the situation. You're a smart girl, you know this can't be. A Murdock and a Castiglione?" Matt spat the name like the taste of it in his mouth disgusted him. "It's bloody ridiculous! There's never been a time we've not been dead set against each other. And ya better not have been tellin' him any of our business… Da will go properly spare then."

"I’ve never told him anything! I don’t care about the stupid business because I'm in love with him Matty! I love Frank and none of you can change that."

Matt sighs deeply, his voice hardens. "That's enough now! You'll get over him eventually. There are plenty of better men out there that deserve ya anyways. I won't hear any more about it, an neither will Da. It's finished."

He makes you feel like a child and you can't stop your tears. You cry softly, your blanket damp and crumpled from gripping it so hard. 

Matt gets up. "We'll see ya downstairs for tea."

The door closes, and you feel more alone than ever before.

When you finally drag yourself downstairs to eat something your mouth drops open as you see Matt's face. Your earlier suspicions were correct, Frank had managed to break his nose, he had more than a couple of cuts on his brows too that Da had stitched for him, and from the way he moved around the table you could tell he was decently bruised. The fact that Frankie had gone down swinging was little comfort when it was your own kin hurt.

You ate in silence. Neither you nor your father were ready to look each other in the eye, nevermind speak. On the way to your room you looked for the necklace but it was gone. 

You cried yourself to sleep.

~

You spent most of the day alone in your room. Your father came in to check on you, but as soon as you opened your mouth to talk about Frank, he shook his head, slammed the door and left you angry and resentful all over again.

At night you found your bedroom window locked but that wasn’t going to put a stop to your plans. Using a hair grip and a lot of determination, you jimmied it open and climbed out and down the fire escape. Nelson's was where you were headed, they owned almost the entire meatpacking district and their main shop wasn't far from the house. Everyone went there so you knew you might be able to find out about Frank. 

The bell tinkled as you entered and Foggy was just closing up. But as soon as he saw it was you, he pulled off his apron and leapt over the counter to wrap his arms around you.

"Oh honey!"

"You heard?"

"You're surprised?" He asks as he leads you to the back of the shop so you're not seen. "It's pretty much all anyone's talking about. Actually thought your old man would have you locked in."

"Yeah well, so did he…"

Foggy laughs at that. He's Matt's best friend and practically family to you, and out of all of them he's the one that doesn't treat you like you're still a kid. You could trust him not to grass you up for sneaking out.

"Foggy, please tell me, have you heard anything about Frank, is he okay?"

"Well your bro didn't pull his punches…  He's pretty banged up from what I've heard, and uh, he’s in the infirmary. That much I do know."

Your heart feels like it's banging against your ribs and your stomach twists into a tight knot. "Oh my god, Foggy it's that bad? Wh- I need to- I need to see him!"

Foggy places his hands gently on your shoulders trying his best to calm you down. "Hey, it's okay. As far as I know it was just a precaution for concussion. Um, and for stitches, cracked ribs, and stuff. I know it's not what you wanna hear, but it coulda been a hell of a lot worse."

You swallow past the huge lump that's formed in your throat thinking about some of your brother's unluckier past opponents. "Yeah…"

He sits you down, gesturing at the makeshift bar beside him. "Tea, or…?"

"Something stronger, Fog." 

Foggy sighs and uncaps a half full bottle of scotch. He pours two glasses, and you quickly down the scotch, not caring about how rough it is or how much it burns. 

"You know I don't judge but geez, what have you gotten yourself into?"

You grip the glass tightly and wait for Foggy to give you another finger of scotch before answering. "He's so good to me, Foggy.. Nobody sees it and no one understands. They're just blinded by this fucking age old rivalry between our families. it's insane! I love him, he loves me and I don’t know why everyone can't just mind their goddamn business? Why can't we just be together?!"

He sighs again, deeper and more fraught this time. "The thing is, this is much bigger than love hon. This… it could trigger another war. You think your pop is pissed at you? I don't even wanna imagine what Don Castiglione is gonna do to his son even after what Matt's done to him over this. Your families don't cross, and when they do blood is always spilled!" 

Your brows knit together, face falling at the thought of how Frank might be punished, how he'd be kept from seeing you too. "Foggy, I need to see him. I know you must have contacts, you can help us meet without anyone knowing… please? Please can you do this for me?"

Foggy paces nervously. He loves you so much, would do near anything for you but…

He runs his hand slowly down his face. "Look, you just can't be seen near Frank at all, okay? You can't risk that and neither can I. But I do know someone; a nurse actually. She's a good friend and I might be able to get a note to him for you through her. But that's it, okay?" 

He wheezes at the surprising force as you fling your arms around him and he gives you a small smile as you hug him tightly in gratitude. 

"Thank you, Foggy!"

~

"There's our big cock-for-brains! How're the ribs, Francesco?"

Frank winces as he shifts on the couch to sit up as Billy swaggers in and throws himself down beside him.

"Better, asshole." he grumbles back.

Billy smirks. "Oh! Last time I checked I wasn't secretly fucking a Murdock but I'm the asshole? Heh, yeah that's a good one."

Frank doesn't even dignify his comment with a response but Billy keeps going.

"So, is she nasty? I'll bet she is. Does she fuck as well as that brother of hers fights? Actually, thinkin' about it she does seem to spend a lot of time with him-".

Billy gags as Frank suddenly grabs him around the throat, ignoring the dull pain in his body as he pushes him hard into the seat, choking.

"C-christ Frankie relax, I take it back! Fuck, I don't mean it, I just needed to know how serious you are about this girl!"

Frank lets him go with a growl. "You're fuckin' lucky you got such a pretty face Bill. If you were anyone else I woulda messed it up. 'Course I'm serious."

"Yeah, yeah I can see that," he half laughs, coughing and rubbing at his throat. "Well, you better have this then." He hands Frank a folded up piece of paper.

Frank's eyes light up as they flit over your words, but then he scrubs his hand over his face shaking his head, his worries sinking in.

"What is it?"

"Shit, she thinks it's her fault that we were found out. Shouldn't have given her that damn necklace… should have been more careful… fuck!" He pushes himself up with a groan and starts pacing the room, the muscle in his jaw twitching and ticking as he thinks.

"I've fucked this up. I need to see her."

Billy's expression turns to concern. "Frankie, you love this girl, right?"

The intensity of Frank's look gives him the only answer he needs.

"Maybe you should just lay low for a while. The last thing you wanna do is potentially stir more shit up and get both of you in an even worse way. Just keep your head down, focus on the work, and then… who knows? Hell might freeze over."

Frank hates the idea of you thinking he's abandoned you, it guts him, but he knows Billy's right. He has to keep his distance for now. 

Fuck, he misses you.

~

A week goes by after you gave Foggy the note. And then another… and another. He can't possibly have given up on you, surely? But hope of ever seeing him again in the way that you did before starts fading quickly along with your anger at your brother. You had blamed him for everything, for perpetuating the rivalry, for telling your father, for putting Frank off you. You cried until you felt as though you had no tears left to cry.  

Matt tries his utmost to distract you from your moroseness, dragging you along to his fight fixtures that you used to love watching. But every one of his opponents that he beats just makes you think of Frank. 

There had been word of a huge arms shipment arriving at the docks later that week. Your father, uncles, and cousins spent most of their time planning on how they would get their hands on it before the Castiglione's could. It was a major job and a big risk, but if they could pull it off, it'd mean they could start selling weapons on the side and make even more money. You tried to talk your da out of it, piling up all the reasons he shouldn't get involved. But if there was anyone he was gonna take family business advice from, it was not going to be you.

"Matty I don't like this. We’ve got enough fingers in pies surely? We're doing alright, why is he so keen on going ahead with this job?"

Matt bounced gently against the ropes of the ring. "He wants to get one up on the Castiglione's, angel.  He won' let your little dalliance hold shame over us, he wants everyone to know who's boss."

Shame. The word made you grit your teeth till your jaw hurt, you were sick of this. Your father was a proud man, too proud sometimes. Nothing about it felt right but neither Matt nor your da would give your concerns the time of day. 

When the big night arrived you were ordered to stay behind, meet up with your girlfriends and go dancing or see a movie or something. Stay out of trouble.

Like hell. 

You carried on as if you were happy to stay home, but as soon as Matt and your da left to meet the others at the warehouse you followed a little way behind. You couldn't shake off the bad feeling that was slithering up your spine.

~

Frank smacked the cartridge back into the handgun he had just finished cleaning and laid it down on the massive table along with a gleaming array of other weapons. 

"Ragazzo, you ready?" Billy's voice drew him out of his silent brooding.

"Yeah, yeah. Gear up and we'll head to the docks. M'just itchin' for somebody to step out of line." Frank growls, slipping his gun in the back of his pants.

Billy throws him a grin and secretes his own arsenal of firearms and knives about his body. "Y'know, I kinda hope they do, I just love to watch you work, Frankie."

~

It was late when the boat docked. The Murdocks had intercepted it on its way in further down the river, overturned the guards and crew and steamed in ready for when the Castiglione's would inevitably be waiting for their delivery. You knew a couple of your cousins were stationed around the yard, lurking in the shadows of the huge containers just like you were. You knew how to stay hidden and move like a shadow when you needed to. Once a Murdock…

You see the Don's men arrive right on time, none the wiser as to what has happened until the gangplank is lowered and it's your da that steps out, flanked by two of his heavily armed henchmen. You couldn't see your brother.

"What the fuck is this?" Don Castiglione spits. He is every inch the gangster, tall, broad and extremely intimidating. You'd never seen him this close before but you could now see a bit of him in Frank.

"You Irish mutts think you can just take what's mine, huh? I'm insulted!  You should stay in your own little game Murdock. Take my advice, the guns do not suit you.

His men move forward and your da holds up a hand. "Now fellas, we don't wan any bloodshed tonight. If ye take a look around you'll find yer outnumbered n' outgunned. So, if ye will jist step aside we'll be loadin' these up in our trucks and'll get out of yer way and we'll hear no more about it, right?"

You see the rest of the Castigliones gradually appearing from out of the woodwork, and then you see him. Your heart sighs with relief that he's okay as far as you could make out. The glint of his piece shines in the moonlight as he moves to stand near the Don, who whispers something to him.

"Francesco, you are going to make good on your… mistake, and bring me my guns, capiche?"

They stand stock still for a long moment as Frank stares him down before they both suddenly spin on their heels as a deep voice like burnt gravel cuts the silence; effectively  interrupting the confrontation.

"Gentlemen. I believe I can resolve this rather… delicate situation that we have here…" 

It's Wilson Fisk. The fucking Kingpin. 

The metallic clack of weapons all around being raised and aimed at the newcomer echoes around the yard. However, the huge figure and his men remain unperturbed. 

"Mr Murdock," he continued calmly, "if you would please step aside, I will take what is mine."

Your blood runs cold. You knew your da would never back down. He was stubborn and tenacious and had definitely passed that trait on to you and Matt. Damn his fucking pride, you wanted to run out between them. Where the hell was Matty?

Just as you predicted your da stood his ground, finger hovering near the trigger.

"Y'think yer the fatcat around here don't ya, son? Well, I'm 'fraid to say that yer jist plain fat. Now run along an' let us men finish our business eh?"

Time slowed to a crawl. It was like everything was running through a sea of molasses. A shadow leaps over the railing of the boat onto the dock, it's running towards Fisk's men, Frank runs too as you see too late as Fisk's right-hand man raising his gun at your father. The shadow plows right into the second man who had also brought out his weapon, tackling him down to the asphalt. Several shots ring out like cracks of thunder and you scream as all you can see is your father dropping to the ground, there are more gunshots and then it's all over as quickly as it had begun. Your eyes frantically search the scene trying to understand what had just happened. 

Fisk is gone; disappeared into thin air along with one of his men. The other of Fisk’s henchmen was lying in a pool of blood at Matt's feet, one or both of the families had shot and killed him. You run out as you see your father being helped to his feet by Matt. They are alive and unhurt and you thank whatever gods would listen. 

It's then you see another body lying limp in front of them.

"No….no no no!" You hurtle across the yard towards it, Billy Russo and the Don are heading exactly the same direction. 

Towards Frank.

"Jesus Christ girl, what are you doing here?!" Matt rages at you. You fall to your knees as Billy turns Frank over onto his back, feeling for a pulse and listening for a breath; any sign that he is still alive.

Your father's voice is muddied in the background as the two families crowd around the scene. "H-He… that boy saved my life… he saved ma fuckin' life!" 

Blood seeps from Frank's stomach onto the ground.

"Frankie no, no don't die! Don't you fucking die! You hear me?!" Tears flood down your face as you grab his hand and squeeze. Billy puts pressure on the wound, slapping his face a couple of times trying to get him conscious. "C'mon bro, c'mon wake up for me! Wake up!" 

A van screeches up nearby and the Don orders his men to lift Frank and put him into the back. You climb in beside him, ignoring their protestations and grateful for Billy who snaps at them in finality. "She's coming with us.."

Matt runs up to the van after making sure your da is taken care of. "No… c'mon we need to get gone. You shouldn't even be here!"

"He saved our da, is that not worth anything?" You sob at him as Billy climbs in with you.

"Leave her be." Billy says. He slides the door shut and Matt's left standing as the van speeds off into the night.

~

Frank suddenly draws a wheezing breath as you hold onto his hand in the back of the van.

"Oh thank fuck. Frank! Frank, can you hear me?" Billy practically yells at him, ripping up his shirt and pressing it to the bullet wound as Frank gasps and groans in pain.

"Y-you holdin' my hand Russo?" He croaks, and you give it a squeeze, leaning over him so he can see you.

Your eyes briefly flick up to meet those of the Don, who has been silent the whole time.

"Frankie, you're okay." You tell your lover.  "They're taking you to a doctor.  You're gonna be okay." 

"Darlin'," he tries to sit up, starting to cough and you hold him down. "What you doin' he-" he coughs again and Billy helps keep him still.

"Shh, yeah I'm here, just don't move, don't move." You try not to think about how much red there is pouring out of him and onto your hands.

"Fuck… fuck it hurts- your dad, he okay?"

You stroke your fingers through his hair and try to smile. "Yes, oh god Frank, yes he's fine, he's fine! Now shh, don't speak, just hold on for me alright? You're gonna be okay, it won't be long.

You share a worried glance with Billy and hope that it's not far now.

Billy barrels through the A&E doors ahead of you and the Don's men who are carrying Frank.

"We need help here! Where's Claire? Get me Claire Temple!" he growls, taking an empty gurney from a nearby orderly and helping get Frank on it as he drifts in and out of consciousness.

A woman in scrubs very quickly appears from the triage area and immediately takes control. 

"Okay… we got a gunshot wound, anything else you wanna tell me? Was he conscious before now?" she asks you. A flash of recognition passes between you both, you had seen her patch Matt up after his fights a few times.

"No, no nothing else, yeah he was talking just a moment ago. He's lost a lot of blood on the way, can you help him, please?!" You plead.

"We'll do our best.  Please wait here."

Billy pulls you along as you both follow after the crash team taking Frank through the double doors, but Claire stops him short after she lets Frank's father go through with them.

"Hey, we're family too!" He protests.

"There's too many of you to let into the room, please, just wait here. Someone will update you as soon as we can. Right now, our main priority is to get him stabilised. Please, let us do our job."

The two of you reluctantly move over to the seating area as the other men go back outside to the van. Billy paces as you sit chewing your nails down to the quick.

"What you said…"

"What?" Billy asked.

"'We're family'." You say, catching his eye.

He stops his pacing, looking at you with sincerity. "If you're important to Frank, you're important to me. It's that simple."

You give him a small nod, returning to biting your nails and waiting with worry. 

Billy sits down beside you. "I'm sure he'll pull through. The fucker is hard to kill." he smiles and you return it, thankful that he's here.

"Yeah, he's gotta be alright."

~

After a few hours, Claire comes through the doors and you and Billy quickly get to your feet.

"He's stable. We were able to take the bullet out. It nicked an artery on the way in, but thankfully it missed his vital organs. We did have to give him a transfusion as he had lost a lot of blood. But, he's been stitched up and resting comfortably.”

"Oh my god," you felt the leaden weight lift off your shoulders slightly. "Claire, I can't thank you enough… Can we see him?" 

She nods. “You can. Just know that’s going to be groggy from the drugs we gave him. But I’m sure he’ll still appreciate the company.” You and Billy thank Claire before going into Frank’s room. 

He was groggy as Claire had warned you, but he returned the soft squeeze of your hand as you knelt down beside the bed. "Frankie, I'm so glad you're alright!"

"See, told you he was hard to kill." Billy said, patting Frank on the leg and smiling at him.

Frank chuckles, wincing slightly. "Yeah, you're not gettin' rid of me that easily. Baby, I'm sorry I got you into trouble. It's all my fault." He's looking into your eyes as he speaks, his hand reaching weakly for your face and you feel the bite of tears returning.

"Hey now, don't you cry over me darlin', I'll be alright. Everything's gonna be just fine, you didn't do nothin' wrong."

You sniff and laugh a little, stroking his hand that's cupping your cheek and wiping away your tears. "I'm the one that's supposed to be saying that! I missed you…"

"I missed you too. Not that I don't appreciate it, but you shouldn't be here. You should be with your family. With Fisk back on the scene it's dangerous baby, for all of us. What were you even doin' down at the docks?"

"I just had a bad feeling…" you interlace your fingers through his. "...but because of you my father is alive and well. I'm right where I need to be."

You're suddenly aware of an imposing presence as the Don entered the room. The man's even bigger than you had thought on seeing him up close. 

"Ah, so finally I get to meet the bella ragazza causing all of the trouble? The little bird that has my Francesco's heart, hm?"

Frank rolls his eyes. "Papa…"

You step forward. "I- I'm sorry Don Castiglione, I really didn't mean to-"

He takes your hand kissing the back of it briefly. "You make my boy happy, and so I am happy. So good to finally meet you, however I wish it were under better circumstances."

You swallow your nervousness down, nodding, actually surprised with how easy going he seems in private. "Thank you sir, it's great to meet you too."

"We are taking Francesco home tomorrow to recuperate, why don't you come and stay at the house with us? We have many rooms and I am certain he will recover faster if his love is nearby, hm?"

You're unsure what to say to such a generous offer, but Frank answers for you. "She'd love to papa."

You nod politely, still a little intimidated by the Don. "I would, but only if you're sure."

"It would be my pleasure, my dear."

Frank kisses the back of your hand. "Alright, I hate to say it but you better scoot, sweet thing. There's some shit we need to sort out…"

You sigh, not even being shot could stop the 'big men' from having their secret meetings. You bid the Don thanks and goodnight and catch Billy at the door. "Please will you make sure that he rests tonight and he doesn't do anything too stupid?"

Billy just chuckles, "you know that's an impossible ask, right?" He pulls you into a quick but surprisingly heartfelt hug as you stand up. "But I'll do my best bella nemica.

Frank can't help laughing softly at the nickname, groaning at the pain as it makes his stitches pull. "Oh that's a good one Bill, I'm stealin' that. You take care darlin', love you so much."

"I love you Frankie, I'll see you tomorrow!"

~

As you walk out into the hospital foyer you find your father waiting for you.

"Da, I…"

He pulls you into his arms, squeezing you so tight and you hug him back, relieved. "You shouldn't have been there tonight…"

You slump against him, the exhaustion from everything that happened suddenly hitting you like a truck. "I know, I'm sorry. I had to come, I was worried about you both. I'm so glad you're alright."

"Is he… okay?" 

You're surprised he cares at all about Frank but you nod. "Yeah, I've just seen him, he'll be fine. Where's Matty?"

"Out with boys patrollin', makin sure the streets are safe. Listen pet, I'm reckonin' we need to meet with the Castigliones to try an' organise some kind of truce. If Fisk is back and makin' a play to control the Kitchen we're gonna need more people an' it makes sense to join our forces."

You stare at him, your eyes wide not daring to believe. "Tell me you're serious. Please tell me you mean that da."

"That boy saved ma life, little dove. An it's war now, this changes things."

"But you've always hated them! Is Fisk really such bad news that you'd forget everything you drilled into me and ally with them?" 

"Darlin, ye have no idea…"

When you get back home you spend most of the night into the early morning talking with your father. He asks so many questions about Frank. He asks about his family and about your relationship, and you answer what you can. In turn you grill him about Fisk, and he paints a dour and terrifying picture. You understand now why he'd go back on his previous vow.

"I need ya to arrange a meetin' with the Don.  D'ya think you can talk to yer lad about it pet?"

"Uhuh, actually he offered me a room there so I could spend some time with Frank while he recovers… but I know what you're going to say so-"

He cuts you off. "Ye knew I was goin' to tell ye that ah think ye should go?" 

Your jaw almost hits the floor in disbelief. "You do?"

"Aye, you'll be safe enough there. Don's got a lotta men, an' that Russo I know is a good shot."

"Matty won't be happy." 

"No, but don't you worry 'bout that, I'll see to 'im."

You look into your father's eyes, and you can see he's asking for your help. You were scared. Kingpin had taken control of the shipment after everyone had scattered and who knew what else he had up his sleeve or when he'd choose to strike next. 

But this… this might just be the way to bring him down. If he knew anything about Hell's Kitchen, he'd never suspect an alliance like this. Fuck, even you would never had imagined it could be possible. 

The next morning you pack a bag, call a cab and go over what you're going to say to the Don when you get there. Matt must have stayed at the gym last night and you don't get a chance to speak with him. In a way you're almost glad as he'd probably chew you a new one for doing this.

The cab pulls up on the huge gravel drive and four well-armed guys in fine fitting suits give you a thorough once over and check your bag when you get out. 

"Hey! Keep your paws to yourselves, you animals. She's good." You are so relieved to hear Billy's voice, and he flashes you his charming smile while guiding you towards the imposing front door. 

"We figured Francesco would be safer here. The doc at the hospital wasn't keen on that idea, but what can they do?" He takes you straight inside. "You are here to help me look after the lil shit, aren't you?"

You follow him down the marble floored hallway, your eyes flitting around taking in the rather opulent but classic decor. "Of course, and who wouldn't rather recuperate at home if it's like this, holy crap!"

Billy smirks as he opens a door and ushers you inside the plush room.

You were so pleased to see Frank's smile. "Am I glad to see you again, sweetness." He tells you.

You bound across the floor to the huge bed that your beau is resting in. You're relieved that he looks so much better. You hold his face in your hands and are happy to see that he's back to a healthy colour. You pepper gentle kisses all over him, letting him know how happy you are that he’s better. Billy leaves you both to it and you're grateful to have some time alone with Frank. And so it seems, is he. 

"Frankie, you look good, how are you feeling today?" you ask, squealing in surprise when he pulls you into the bed to lie beside him. 

"Careful baby!" You exclaim before he's capturing your lips, not caring about the pain in the side of his gut if he gets to taste and feel you again. That wild want is there in his eyes when you break away and it's hard for you to resist giving in to it when his hands begin to roam over you.

"God I've missed you, missed having you…"

You huff at him. "Frank, you know I'd want nothing more… but you've got to rest, you've been shot for Christ's sake!!"

"Yeah, yeah I know," he says, the corner of his mouth pulling up mischievously. "but there's still some things I can do…" 

You feel the heat in your face even as you shake your head at the audacity of him. He never gives up, yet another thing you love about him.

"Just be serious for a minute.  My da’s asked if you can arrange a meeting between your father and him. He thinks our families should work together to stop Fisk."

He stops messing with you as he considers it. "Well shit, ain't the worst idea. And you agree?"

"I do. It makes sense, and it's the last thing Fisk would expect.

Frank mulls it over for a moment and then calls for Billy. "Hey man, can you get my dad in? Think we've got a proposal for him."

You're suddenly nervous for a different reason, hurriedly standing and smoothing down your clothes as the door opens. Frank reaches for your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.

"Hey, don't you worry baby." He reassures you under his breath. "Just tell him what you told me."

When you relate your own father's thoughts to the Don you're surprised when he doesn't interrupt, instead listening intently.

"...and where might the meeting happen?" He asks with interest.

"I think I know a place."

~

Foggy's in good spirits when you drop in to the shop. He’s glad that you’re okay, but his pleasant mood doesn't last when he hears what you've got to ask him.

“You want me to have The Murdocks and Castigliones under the same roof? Are you kidding me?”

"But your place is neutral ground, Foggy! There won't be any trouble I promise you."

He paces around frantically. "No trouble?! You can't promise me that!"

You fiddle with the snack display by the counter. "Look, I know it's a lot to ask, but if we can stop Fisk from becoming a permanent fixture everyone will be better off. Please Foggy, for the sake of the Kitchen." He stops his frantic pacing and pins you with a worried look.

“Fine. But if anyone gets shot, remind yourself I told you this was a bad idea.”

~

A couple of weeks later you found that Foggy wasn't exactly wrong in what he had told you. With the heads of both families and their closest lieutenants gathered in the large space of the Nelson's back room, the air quickly grew thick with tension. Matt arrived first with your father; stopping in his tracks as soon as he sensed you. You hadn't seen each other since that night at the docks.

"Matty-" you start. "alrigh' dove." he replies, only giving you a curt nod as he makes his way to the end of the long table. You sigh. This was going to be a long night.

When Frank comes in Matt stands quickly, his chair shrieking along the floor with his fists bunched at his sides. The Castigliones bristle, fingers itching and ready to reach for weapons. The tension was ramping up fast and it felt as though the meeting was about to fail even before it could begin.

"Ahh there he is. The golden boy. Fuckin’ cunt of the hour." Matt snaps.

"'The hell…?" Frank starts.

You found yourself getting to your feet.

"Christ Matt, will you just behave? Frank saved our da's life, does that mean nothing to you?"

"Aye it goes a way, but does he think he's better than us? That you're safer with him, with them, than us? Was that why you didn't come home, pet? Was this all his fuckin' idea too?!"

You'd never seen Matt this upset and angry before. You had to calm him down before something irreversible kicked off between the families. Frank shot you a concerned look but didn't interfere; knowing that anything he said could make things even worse. You pull Matty aside, whisper-yelling at him.

"Hey, listen to me Matt. Me staying at the Don's was da's idea, and getting everyone together was his too! Did you not know that?" You hiss.

Matt huffs. "No. I just thought that…" he paces before running a hand down your arm. "we're the ones that keep ya safe, love, yer family. Not them. It just feels like-" he stops himself, unable to fully admit his jealousy.

You urge him to continue, you don't want there to be bad blood between the two of you, especially now.

"I worry about ya dove. I know ya say ya love 'im, I just don' wanna see y'get hurt. When you're wit me, you're safe, y'can't get hurt. You know I love you too."

His expression is so honest it makes your heart burn.

"Matty, I love you so much, and I know you're just looking out for me but please, you've got to let me live my life for myself. I'm a grown woman now. You don't need to keep protecting me from everything!"

He sighs with resignation and you squeeze his arm.

"I know you're not sure about Frank but he really does love me, and I don't believe that he'd ever hurt me intentionally. And this? This is the best shot we've got at Fisk, you know that. Please don't throw this away Matt, do it for the Kitchen if not for me!"

He softens as you plead, "I'll do it for both of youse."

You kiss him on the cheek and whisper a sincere thank you before returning to the table where discussion is already underway. You walk over to stand beside Frank and kiss him swiftly. He's a little surprised that you'd make your relationship so public with the current situation as it is.

"S'everythin' okay princess?" He asks nervously as you place your hand in his, and let out a thankful sigh along with a shitload of tension.

"Everything's grand, Frankie." You say with a genuine smile. "Let's get this started."

The heads of the families agreed that they needed to find out what resources Fisk had, how many men and how much firepower he possessed before they made their move. It was proposed that members from each side should scout it out, and ultimately it was decided that Matthew and Frank would go.

As you watched Frank slip his pistol into his holster and give you a wink, you were reminded of the day you had first laid eyes on him. It felt like a lifetime ago even though it had been just over a year since you'd walked to the store with Matty, and Frank and Billy had been in there.

"Well that's my day ruined. Can't breathe in this town without runnin' into a Murdock, or two." Billy had remarked, looking you up and down with dark eyes and a devilish smile.

Matt stiffened, moving in front of you, jaw and fists clenched. "Y'know this is our territory Russo, so get lost or I'll help ya find your way out..."

However, your attention had been on Billy's companion, who you would later find out was the Don's son. His face was set hard, but he had warm brown eyes, and a big boxer's nose that drew your gaze. When they had left the store Frank had looked back over his shoulder, the faintest smile on his lips as he threw a wink your way and you found your face heating up.

Now they were heading into dangerous territory working together. Your heart was in your mouth as they both finished kitting up, arming themselves to the teeth just in case shit happened to go south.

"Please be careful." You say to Matt, your words somewhere between a prayer and a blessing.

"M'always careful, love." He replies before he lets Frank talk to you.

He brings your hand up to his lips and kisses the back of it as he looks into your eyes with a serious expression. "You promise me you'll go straight on home, yeah? Don't want you on these streets tonight baby."

You stroke the side of his face and bring your forehead to touch against his, breathing him in. "I promise. And promise me you'll look after each other."

Both men nod and then head for the door and you and your father head for home.

~

Matt stops Frank with his arm as he listens to check that the way is clear for them.

"Alrigh', we're good." He confirms after a couple of beats.

"Reckon we can get a read on em from up on that roof there, it covers most of their exits." Frank suggests, and Matt nods and follows. When they're situated, hunkered down side by side behind a low wall, Frank feels the oppression of something waiting to be said. The muscle in his jaw ticks as he clenches it and he can't stand it anymore.

"C'mon man, can we just get this over with? Say what you gotta say, I know you wanna. I can take it."

Matt swallows his pride and turns to his former foe after taking a pensive breath.

"Yeah, you're right, I have got somethin' t'say to ya. M'sorry. I was wrong about ya an I've been a right shitebag to you an ma sister all this time. But, there's a right thing to be done an' I'm hopin' tha we can move on?"

That wasn't what Frank had expected at all, a swift one-two knocking his brain around in his skull, but it felt like a dark cloud was lifting and he actually started to smile.

"I know you're just lookin' out for her Murdock, I get it, and I really appreciate you sayin' that. Might not have seemed like it but I've got a lot of respect for your family after meetin' that girl."

Matt nods. "Feelin's mutual. I shoulda just trusted her in the first place but y'know what's she's like, always gettin' hersel' into trouble."

Frank chuckles quietly. "Don't I know it."

They keep watch for a few more hours, noting the comings and goings of Fisk's men. After clocking where the weapons are stored, they manage to sneak in and get a good idea of what kind of firepower they have before reporting back.

The two long feuding families of Hell's Kitchen drive the Kingpin out of their territory in a spectacular blaze of fire and fists. He certainly didn't expect the Murdocks and Castigliones to team up and take back what was theirs; which was a huge advantage for the families. When Frank and your brother returned triumphant you leapt into Frank's arms, kissing him over and over and until he was almost begging for air.

When word spread of the victory everyone headed to Josie's to celebrate, but Frank knew his fight wasn't quite over. There was something else he had to do.

He's feeling like he knows real fear for the first time in a long while as he approaches Jack Murdock in the bar. He's got just one aim. One question.

Jack nods at him as he comes over, signaling the bartender to pour them a couple of whiskeys.

"Alright lad? We did good, eh?"

"Yeah, that we did. You, uh, know why I'm here?"

"Aye son, I know. C'mon then, out with it." Jack says to him.

Frank's mouth nervously forces a smile and he takes a deep breath before he begins.

"Sir, I'm sure by now you know just how much I care for your daughter, and if you don't, well… thing is I love her. Love her with all my soul and with your blessin', I want to ask her to spend the rest of our lives together.."

Your da raises an eyebrow. "Oh aye, is that so? An' would ya do right by her? 'Cos ya know if y'don't you'll have the whole clan comin down on ye like hellfire?"

"I know that and I will. She's my life now sir, couldn't love no one else more."

"Alright boy, but y'know we'll be watchin' ya."

He grins and raises his glass to Frank's own. "Well y'have my blessin', and I've no doubt she'll be happy wit ye."

Frank breathes out a solid sigh of relief and can't wait to tell you, to ask you to be his forever.

When he does it's a little bit more romantic than a toilet stall in the dancehall. He picks you up in his car the next evening. He's got the top down and is waiting next to the open passenger door as you step out of your house. You take his breath away every single time he sees you but tonight it's different, you no longer have to hide your love for each other. He takes your hand, takes all of you in, your dress, your hair, your beautiful smile. He knows he's a lucky man.

"Where are we going to baby?" You ask, but he only smiles and tells you to hold tight. You're curled around his arm the whole way as he drives you both to the hills outside of the city.

When he pulls up at a quiet parking spot you get out and can see the twinkle of the city lights below mirroring that of the starry sky. When you turn around to show your excitement he's pulling a hamper and blankets out of the trunk.

"Oh Frankie, this is so gorgeous! Thank you so much!" You squeal as you help lay out a blanket and he digs out some delicious treats, glasses, and a bottle of wine.

"Gorgeous spot for my gorgeous girl."

He opens the bottle then fills your glass and his own, and you raise them to clink and take a sip. He watches you looking out at the view, a mild breeze weaving through your hair. You're just sitting there and he almost can't believe how head over heels he is for you. Things could have turned out so differently but he's eternally grateful that they didn't.

When you turn to him you can't help but giggle at the insanely adoring way he's looking at you.

"What is it?" You smile, taking a bite from a plump red cherry.

Frank brings his hand up to the side of your face, his thumb passing lightly over your lips as you look up at him with your big eyes.

"God, I just…"

You tilt your head in curiosity as he reaches into the hamper for something, producing a small black box which he opens in front of you on bended knee. It's his mother's ring, a delicate and twisting precious metal band set with a small sparkling diamond glinting up at you.

"Oh Frank…" you gasp, any other words are lost in your surprise but he carries on.

"I love you baby, so goddamn much. And I know I asked you before but I'm askin' you now, proper. Your da gave me his blessing and I'm hopin' that you will too… please say yes darlin' and marry me? I've wanted to be yours since the first damn time I saw you. What do you say? Talk to me baby, don't leave me hangin' like this!"

Your hands come up to frame his face and you kiss him over and over and over as you answer an excited 'yes!' between every one. He's laughing with a smile so big as you hold out your hand for him to gently take the ring and slip it on your finger where it fits perfectly.

You kiss him again, this time it's slow and lingering on the lips and he wraps you up in his embrace as he deepens it, laying you down on the blanket underneath him. Your fingers slide into his hair and his hands squeeze the roundness of your ass eager to feel each other as your kisses become more heated and desperate.

Your eyes meet. "I'm yours forever now, Frank, make me feel like it."

He wastes no time answering your request, running his hands over your body, nipping and kissing at your earlobe and just below as he caresses your breast, and you push your hips up against his moaning with pleasure. You slip a hand down to feel his hardening cock through his pants, frantically scrabbling to loosen his belt and free him as he curls his fingers around the waistband of your panties pulling them down, his lips almost never leaving your skin.

"Baby, baby… mm, goddamn you're so perfect for me." He murmurs and you let the night sky hear just how good he makes you feel as he slides his fingers through your slick folds, teasing at your clit with light strokes.

"Yeah, you like that, huh? That what you need?"

"Frank please, I can't wait! Just- I need you…" you plead, pressing your body up against him and stroking your soft hands up and down his erection to make sure he gets the message.

"Oh shiiiit… alright sweetheart, shh-shh. I got you, I got you…" he whispers against your skin as he pushes his pants down and your silky dress up, quickly rolling on a condom. He moans along with you as he finally sheaths his thick length inside where you need him the most. both of you gasp at the feeling. You claw at his shirt, pull him as close as you can when he starts to rock into you. Every thrust of his hips has you desperate for the next, you want him so deep so that you can feel him for days after this and you tell him so, driving him crazy and making him fuck you even harder.

"Anythin' you want, I'll give you anythin' love, just wanna see your pretty face when you come for me."

He wraps a strong hand under your thigh, pulling it up making you moan out again at the new delicious angle, arching underneath him as he draws back almost all the way out and then fills you back up again, taking you so easily to the edge of an earth shattering climax. His hand comes up to cradle your face, watching you, seeing the love he feels for you reflected in your beautiful eyes.

"Frankie, you're gonna make me-" As you approach the precipice, the only thing in your mind is that he's yours and you are his.

He seals his mouth over yours, tongue teasing against your own, your whimpers muted as he does all he can to make you fall apart, to pulse and clench around him, your vision whiting out with only this blissful sensation spreading through your body and the sound of his voice in your ears while he talks you through it.

"Yeah baby, that's it my sweet girl… god I love you so fucking much-"

You cry out to the stars as you share in this intimate moment, showering each other in endless, breathless declarations of love.

.

.

Epilogue

[drrutherford]

❖ Timeline ❖

April 16th 1984 — Born to Natan & Mikaela Weiss, of Israeli and Irish origin, respectively. Both parents are doctors, living in Yeovil (Somerset) UK, and raise their son with warmth and stability in a happy home.

1990 — Parents die in a car crash when he’s 6 years old. Grief-stricken and unable to cope, his aunt abandons him in a London orphanage where he meets wee lil Damon (@damon-rutherford​), who’s only 4. Takes him under his wing, and a few months later they get adopted by Andrew and Cerys Rutherford. 

 1994 — Cerys falls ill and dies, the boys ( aged 10 & 8) are broken-hearted. Lara (@lararutherford​), who’d been adopted before that, is still too baby to remember much of it. Andrew uproots the family (+ Adriana @amaroadriana who’s basically a foster sister at this point + her mother, who continues on as the family’s nanny) to Porto Velho in America. Connie (@constance-rutherford) enters the picture shortly (contentiously so) thereafter, and Yvonne (@yvonne-rutherford) is born. 

 1997/8 — Aged 13/14, discovers the truth about Andrew’s line of work. Fractures his relationship with his father and Johnathan (@johnathan-parsons​), who was something of an uncle figure to him. Partially motivated by this event, partially by his dislike of PV, he sets his sights on Med School in Oxford, to get as far away from his father, and follow in the footsteps of his biological parents before him. 

2002 — Graduates highschool at 18, accepted into Oxford University’s School of Medicine, moves back to England. 

2002-2008 — Med school days, these years give rise to Team Posh, giving rise to his long-standing friendships with people like Spencer @spencerberkeley​, Harrison (☠️), and Cassandra @cassandra-acton​​, among others. Also meets his first steady girlfriend, before moving on to Diana (@diana-sehgal), and then Mila (@milaxkorshunova) during these years no more dates bc fuck that i’m confused.

2009 — Some time after graduating med school, he (aged 25) heads to the US to start his long-ass surgical residency. This is followed by an amicable, mutual decision to split with then-girlfriend, Mila, due to the pressures of being long-distance, and some meddling by her v. Russian father.

2011 — On one of many sporadic visits back to the UK, Damon introduces him to publicly adored British actress Katherine Mayfair, and a whirlwind romance ensues, devotedly followed by the press.

2014 — Marries Katherine (aged 30), partway through residency, prompting a transfer back to England to complete his surgical training in London. Despite indulging a hidden drug habit, Katherine promises to stay clean.

2017 — After three years’ worth of a struggling marriage and multiple lies, the dam finally breaks when he finds out that Katherine’s still using drugs while pregnant with their child. This is the same year as he completes his surgical residency and becomes a fully licensed neurosurgeon/consultant (aged 33).

2018 — As soon as his son is born (June 6), Gideon (aged 34) files for divorce. Katherine punishes him in the worst way possible for this decision, and paints him as a cheating scumbag to the media to cover up her own infidelities and continued drug use. This poisons the public’s opinion against him and a bitter custody battle ensues. Easily the worst year of his life, the results of which have lingered through the ensuing years.

Some time in between idk bear w me ok — Befriends his apartment neighbour, Elene Dadiani. The lines blur between friendship and something more, but before it can flourish she’s gunned down outside the apartment one horrible night. The event scars him and puts him off the prospect of romance for a few more years. Also there are many attacks on his family in between and mob life is pervasive as shit and the Ruthas are constant drama rip, but y’all know this already

2024 (Present day) — Gid is 39 going on 40, and still goin’ thru it. Felix is 5 going on 6, and goin’ thru it somewhat less. He is currently in a bid to launch another appeal against his ex for full custody of their child.

[imposterogers]

As excited as I am for for born again, I’m disappointed and a little curious why they couldn’t just continue from the existing series and make season 4. Like I guess I know why, they wanna incorporate him into the mcu but still I’m like ‘why 😔’

my thing is daredevil always included the mcu in their canon (the chitauri invasion), but the mcu hasn't done a very good job (yet) of respecting netflix daredevil's canon. its clear that the vigilantes lived in a very different world than the avengers, despite residing in the same city. the avengers fought aliens and monsters and killer robots, and ppl like matt murdock got dirty every single night. they went out onto the streets of their city and fought the people that made it worse. the hand, the yakuza, wilson fisk, the Russian mob, Irish mafia, etc. matt fought for his city day and night. these are problems that the avengers don't have to think about, and that's ok. but the distinction is there. it would have worked completely fine to give daredevil a proper continuation and a season 4 that existed adjacent to the main mcu.

tbh i'm still upset that they brought wilson fisk back. and it really showed that the writers don't care about netflix daredevil all that much. bc the entire daredevil series (all three seasons) is about taking him down. about matt FINALLY beating him in every way possible. wilson fisk would spend his entire life in a cage. that was the whole point! and then hawkeye was like "lol.......... he's back <3"

anyways. not to go off lmao bc I AM excited to see matt again, but I probably will not be considering netflix daredevil and mcu daredevil as canon w each other. rip netflx daredevil season 4 fly high

[acidcaught-a]

also let's remember that gilda started the mob war and harvey didn't know it until gordon told him he found the guns in harvey's basement. also i wonder what they're implying with baby bruce getting a two-headed coin from a falcone and harvey then having that coin (or at least another one) but also that harvey and "bat" knew each other to begin with.

are they trying to imply harvey already knew bruce was bats bc of a prior friendship between bruce and harvey w/ the coin? i love the friendship between harvey and grundy but also bruce and grundy?? like our boys were raised right by alfred.

and gilda also filed for divorce after harvey begged and begged to have kids and when she said no each time he finally said okay i understand and that's fine with me and she still filed ((( which i do not take as canon bc in the book harvey loved her more than anything in the world. so in another origin where it's the Irish mob, they kill gilda, so i say falcone did.

[themculibrary]

AU Fics Masterlist 2

Links Last Checked: April 13th, 2024

part one, part three

All I Ever Wanted (ao3) - alby_mangroves, seratonation sam/bucky, steve/tony G, 14k

Summary: Florist/tattooist AU. When Steve and Tony decide to get married Bucky and Natasha volunteer to organise the wedding for them. As it turns out the florist is one Sam Wilson and Bucky really didn’t stand a chance.

A Pirate's Tale (ao3) - Marvel corner (PinkGold) bucky/steve/tony M, 35k

Summary: Pirate AU where Bucky, Steve and Tony have a past, a present and a future together. Not everything is easy, in fact, easy may not have been in their vocabulary to start with.

Catfish (ao3) - L1av steve/bucky E, 28k

Summary: Catfish /ˈkatˌfiSH/ - A catfish is someone who pretends to be someone they're not using Facebook or other social media to create false identities, particularly to pursue deceptive online romances.

Steve Rogers is a famous movie star, known for his role as Captain America. Bucky Barnes is a bored law student who drinks too much wine. Bucky gets on match.com to boost his confidence. What he doesn't expect is a guy using Steve Rogers' pictures on a dating profile. Bucky decides to mess with the guy. After all, what idiot uses Steve Rogers' pictures on a dating site?

Not like it's really him, right? Bucky may need more wine.

Clueless (ao3) - Nemerosa                                                                      scott/hope M, 40k

Summary: A high school AU in the Ant-Man 'verse. I wasn't able to find many and I thought this might be worth a shot... Inspired by Clueless, my general love of Paul Rudd and the Ant Man part of the MCU.

In which Scott is generally still the handsome goof we all know and love, he's just younger. An intelligent slacker who could be something if he only applied himself more.

Hope is the new transfer student who arrives and challenges him, academically and in other ways...

Countdown (ao3) - ShesLikeTexas steve/tony, pepper/happy, bucky/natasha E, 96k

Summary: Mob Boss Steve Rogers kidnaps Tony Stark and gives him 365 days to fall in love with him.

Dishonor On Your Cow (ao3) - mandarou steve/bucky E, 111k

Summary: “Sergeant Barnes?”

“Oh, hell no, don’t call him that, man,” Sam warned.

“Captain Fuck Off!” Barnes shouted over him. “Fight me!”

Steve didn’t know whether to laugh or just slink away. He managed to combine the two by pacing two steps and snorting instead. Like a bull.

“I’m gonna need you to calm your ass, Barnes,” Sam said as he went limp again, obstructing Barnes’s struggling under him. “This is so undignified. That is Captain goddamn America.”

“Captain goddamn America!” Barnes repeated, louder. And angrier.

Steve cleared his throat again. “I’ve been looking for you,” he told Barnes.

“I hope you brought lube this time!” Barnes shouted.

Gonna Marry That Boy (ao3) - haveufoundwhaturlookingfor clint/tony G, 6k

Summary: Clint runs a coffee shop with his best friend Natasha, and he has a crush on one of the customer's, but he's never actually talked to this boy. He's awkward enough as it is, and things get even more difficult once he learns who the customer is.

Heart of Fools (ao3) - Claudia_flies steve/bucky E, 55k

Summary: Bucky spots the leaflet under some old magazines as he eats. It’s crumpled and worn. He’s looked at it several times in the past seven months since he found it in the Omega center. It has pictures of smiling couples holding hands, sitting on picnic blankets under willow trees. They’re outlined by slogans like “Serve Your Country” and “Your Contribution is Needed”.

Into the Open Air (ao3) - SilverSlashes bucky/steve/tony E, 30k

Summary: Steve is a werewolf missing his mate. Tony is a retired hunter desperate for a cause to take up. They’re both looking for something out in the idyllic, Victorian Irish country-side. They both find it. But the entanglements of love and honor, the bonds of pack and family, and the capricious nature of fate and forgiveness could force three hearts together or tear them all apart.

Lakeside Retreat (ao3) - spacebuck steve/bucky M, 16k

Summary: When Bucky Barnes (writer, sometimes) is sent to Lake Placid to relax and work on his next novel, he's not expecting his trip to get off to such a bad start. Anything that could go wrong, has - until he's rescued from his own misery by his handsome neighbour, who looks mighty familiar.

Last Stop Before Malibu (ao3) - justanotherrollingstony (adoctoraday) steve/tony E, 31k

Summary: Steve stands under the hot sun, hoping that the next trucker to roll in will bring him enough money to eat tonight, enough to save a little, to get out of this place and go somewhere new.

What he doesn't expect, is to meet a man who changes everything.

When Tony leaves, Steve follows and finds a place in his home, his bed, and maybe, his heart.

Pythagorean Expectation (ao3) - trickdaggers steve/tony E, 182k

Summary: Steve turns, feeling his heart fall out of his chest at the figure walking towards them. This has to be a dream. A nightmare— one that Steve has definitely had before.

Tony Stark walking towards them does not compute. Even with his eyes shrouded by orange-tinted spectacles, there is no mistaking that lopsided grin and casual strut onto the field even from a distance. Steve's head is swimming with questions. Tony holds so much notoriety right now that it would be near impossible to keep him transferring teams a secret, especially considering the team he would be leaving is owned by his own family.

(Aka, the fic in which Steve and Tony are rivals both off and on the baseball field— until they aren’t. And it’s also in the 90s, because why the hell not.)

Straight on till Morning (ao3) - Sineala steve/tony E, 109k

Summary: Tony Stark resigned his commission in Starfleet five years ago, after a disastrous away mission, and he swore he’d never go back. He just wants to be left alone to build warp engines in peace. But the universe has more in store for him than that, as he discovers when Admiral Fury comes to him with an offer he could never have expected and cannot possibly refuse: first officer and chief engineer aboard the all-new USS Avenger, a starship of Tony’s own design. What’s more, the Avenger’s captain is Steve Rogers, hero of the Earth-Romulan War. Believed dead for over a century, Steve is miraculously alive… and very, very attractive.

But nothing is ever easy for Tony. As he wrestles with his secret desire for his new captain and his not-so-dormant fears, another mission starts to go wrong, and Tony becomes aware that Steve has secrets of his own – and the truth could change everything.

The Ballad of The Three Legged Werewolf (ao3) - The Notorious Trollop Vo the Terrible (Voishen) steve/bucky E, 84k

Summary: Funny how the perfect time to begin again is right after you realize everything you had is gone. After being a test subject and a weapon in the hands of the humans for fifteen years, Bucky is finally free. His first order of business is finding his own kind and maybe some answers about the holes in his memory. When he meets the pack's First Alpha, he quickly realizes there is something irresistible about him that has nothing to do with his pack standing. With mating season on the horizon, it's time to pick a partner and he knows exactly which alpha he'd like to keep his den warm. Now if only he could remember how seduction works.

the bruises that we share (ao3) - haveufoundwhaturlookingfor steve/bucky T, 3k

Summary: Soulmate AU. Sharing the same injuries/bruises. Pre-War. Skinny!Steve doesn’t like bullies, and often finds himself getting beat up, leaving bruises littered all over his body. Steve doesn’t really think about his soulmate when he gets himself in these situations, figuring someone like him won’t end up with his soulmate. Then, Bucky enters the picture.

The Mating Habits of the Modern Falcon: A Field Guide (ao3) - chicklette bucky/sam E, 48k

Summary: Samuel Wilson has his shit together.

Not in this fic though. In this fic, Sam has a roommate (Steve), a fuck-buddy (Bucky), a full class load (and some student loans), an internship at the VA, a tense relationship with his sister, and no idea what he's doing.

But he's working on it.

To Forgive a Murder (ao3) - SpacePunkStevie steve/bucky M, 24k

Summary: The issue of the Winter Soldier is, truth be told, a dire and intractable problem for Steve Rogers (and, indeed, for at least one powerful government and at least one frustrating millionaire). But this was a dire and intractable problem that had been handed to Steve by fate - or something like it - when he was given Bucky Barnes as a soulmate.

There were a lot of complaints that Steve would like to lodge with fate.

(You’re) The One That I Want (ao3) - eriot, tisfan bucky/tony T, 24k

Summary: Billionaire genius Tony Stark meets and falls in love with tough guy and heart-throb Bucky Barnes during a summer’s fling at a beachside resort. Thought to have been parted forever, they discover they’re both attending Avenger’s Academy, a prep-school for superpowered people. With a different social circle, different goals and different dreams, will Tony and Bucky decide that the other is “the one that they want.”

An Avenger’s Academy/Grease mash up fic.

[castle-dominion]

castle 5x18 the wild rover

plot heavy episode, at least backstory heavy for ryan. I was SO excited during my family watch when I realized this was the episode. I'd seen gifs & read fics & I was stoked. I'll only be able to watch part of it today since I need to leave for work.

Me, a baker: Nice! The crime scene: Me: Not nice!

HOW did he say the name? Jordan can be a man... KB: Castle, I know nothing. Nothing is a dear friend of mine and this is not nothing.

He is SO defensive lol sleep interrogations XD KB: Who says I haven’t already?

Lots & lots of fabric EW CASTLE CRIME SCENE NOT EVEN DEAD MAN'S CUPCAKE BUT BLOOD SPATTER even tho there was likely none there

11.30 or 23.30? Good for him knowing his cars Haha dough. I thought esposito made that pun intentionally Quick maths? (why did I pluralize it?)

Only twice a week? Oh yeah lol this guy has access to all sorts of products & chemicals & machines as a baker.

Hey we get to see ryan's apartment! Jenny (O'Malley) Ryan: Which means you should probably … Me: *confused* Me: *FIGURES IT OUT AFTER I REMEMBER WHAT SORT OF DOCTOR THEY ARE GOING TO* It wouldn't be your fault hun, even if it is your problem. These two are so so cute. Ok I'm clipping that.

RC: I'm going to ignore that Maybe he was planning a new location

Ooh irish mob, remember finn rourke & detective slaughter & the previous episodes where anything was mentioned Ok so the way we count syllables is weird. Irish gaelic (gaelge) has two letters because it gives buffer room between consonants. S is often sh usually when followed by an e or an i or smth, & mh or bh are just like th or ch, it changes the way it is pronounced, usually to a v, sometimes to a w depending on where u are. It is pheonetic! Just a different language! This is the part of the episode I realized what we were watching!

She only knows his as jimmy the baker. She looks so anxious here.

Ryan is back good for him. RC: How did the thing go … with the uh, you know. Do the thing with the thing and give the thing to the doctor. I could clip that lmao ESPOSITO SHUT UP Clip this now His eyes He is not even really kissing her *slaps him twice* THIS WAS .. FUN Edit: someone has it already

lots of clips now heheheh

*asks esposito bc obv he would know*

Love the b plot "this is normal" Man looks mad Only sees bobby s now instead of earlier when he looked at the murder board FRIENDS BACK IN THE DAY? WHAT KIND OF CREW?

UNDERCOVER!?!?!?!?!?!?!? RC: I love complicated!

Why wouldn't you want to leave tho? for her? or for more? Clipping that too "cop"

"just the wife" bro? gay.

Of course he's heard of kevin ryan, even tho it has been 7 years, this is his case! They're impressed & esposito is mad that he didn't tell him

Why would you write down all your illegal stuff like that? I've met ppl who /want/ to make spreadsheets but don't, & ppl who write their stuff but in code Ryan acting like he still knows her, acting like he's still in the mob like "she wouldn't snitch"-- in fact it was weird how she kissed him like girl it has been seven years of COURSE he has moved on You left & she fell on hard times!? Oh no now he feels guilty/ Another jimmy who is a rat? She can... You only found her bc of phone records YOU walked away ryan He is protecting her Wow that's messed up a bit Like with the Ben kid, doesn't want to send someone in unprotected

SOD: Look at you, telling the truth. >:(

You? You are not on the crew bro Yeah BACK THEN not NOW Ryan ryan my dude careful, you don't know if your oconnell cover is still good

Clipping this quote: How long has law enforcement been after that bible? Fifteen? Twenty years? Huh? These guys are drug dealing parasites. When are you going to get another shot to wipe them all out? Look, you want the bible. We want Bobby S for murder. Siobhan wants to keep breathing. Everybody wins. I can do this.

not this one tho SOD: What are you doing? Are you out of your mind? KR: I was Fenton. I can be him again. SOD: Don’t get yourself killed on my account. KR: All right, yeah, you hate me. I get that and I deserve it. But do you want to be put in Witness Relocation or not? Yes or no? SOD: nods. Agent Walker: Detective? Were you serious about that offer? KR turns to him. He thinks for a second & then nods.

Yeah 7 years is a long time bro, he's right course there's a new heirarchy thats how things work they change over time like seven years Martha acting lessons Sad, his wife won't kiss him goodbye Castle & esposito & beckett too watching him in there getting an ID card Nooo they are cutting his hair Wow ugly hair but hey nice outfit, even if it doesn't look like smth he usually wears But I legit cut my own hair a few days after this episode & we actually have similar hair again XD The "I am fenton o'connell" lines throughout that was hhhh I am clipping this right now right now lsdjfskdfj but I have to get ready for work in 15 minutes edit:

I clipped it but I didn't have to

Love how esposito is the taxi driver lol also question: what if he was walking down the street one day & saw someone from the old crew? What then? I mean it's new york nobody looks at anybody but still Of COURSE you don't like it

JE: (sighs) I don’t like this, bro. You don’t have a wire. No locator. ((but u have a cell phone that they can track right?)) KR: If I did, Bobby S would find it. This is the way it’s gotta be, man. ((I haven’t mentioned yet but I like how they call him bobby s, maybe there is a bobby r or a bobby m somewhere)) JE: What’s the name of Agent Walker’s informants who’ll vouch for you? KR: The Mason brothers. Matt and Tony. JE: Where did you do your last stretch? ((interrogating him lol, but r u allowed to know this?)) KR: Elmira, for man 1. Can even tell you my cell number. I know what I’m doing, okay? JE: isn’t convinced. JE: What about Siobhan? KR: Our plan is solid. (he nods like he’s convincing himself, too) I got this. KR: hands him so cash to keep his cover. KR: See you on the other side, partner. JE: Mm-hmm.

Called Kelly's but Siobhan owns it lol also, nice place, must actually run nicely, owning a bar or restaurant takes a lot of work

Tbh it looks like nobody recognizes him. Like he expects to be recognized (after seven years) & ppl are like "what are you standing there for?" not "do I know you?" Oh & NOW people are recognizing him

Siobhan meeting again but pretending it is the first time in years lol. Clipping the punch As long as she keeps her hands off of me

Pushes him back a bit & trying to touch her Maggie got married since u knew her (so siobhan maybe "fenton" got married since you knew him, why would you assume that you can still kiss him after all this time?) How much of that was acting? bc they've already met each other again so they can't just "be" themselves they need to meet each other & then they can be who they are. also funny how she is literally an fbi informant & she was mad that he was a cop

Finally back & able to finish this after like a week ugh & it's already 11.30 bc I couldn't wake up

JE: I’m telling you, man. He’s not the Ryan I know. And I’m not just talking about the haircut and the clothes. It’s like he’s a different dude. ((That's the point)) RC: That’s what he’s supposed to be. He’s in character. He’s Fenton. That’s good. JE: Yeah, but what if he’s not good enough? After seven years he’s gotta be rusty. And these Staten Island boys are no joke. ((That is a good argument...)) Don't want to clip this, but I COULD

Define Yonkers what if it was NOT bobby s tho?

So valid bestie (not clipping it but yeah I NEVER take my phone in when I go to confession. But why was it on when he handed it to liam?) "What'll the missus think?" you know what? I WILL clip this. he's such a Different Person

Bobby is SO pissed at fenton He knows... btw what is up with the accent? I can't tell but it's def there Who's Ben Gideon? Ah & there is where the mason brothers come into play

Wild Rover from the song he was always a rat lmao btw my man has some weird glass sculptures that are shaped like guns & it is,,, something alright Prodigal son? Irish catholics my beloved this is going to be clipped right here Liam SO wants to lol HOLY CRAP trust, brotherhood, fuck-ed-up-ed-ness, this is great. He looks so "hhhh" once he hugs him & liam is just there & omg sdjfah

That wink he gives to siobhan, I could clip that if I wasn't low on time

Clippin this tho If I wasn't watching this with my family I would have literally pulled out my bible from my jeanjacket pocket to find this verse but I knew what it was going to be. But seriously who has them memorized? I only have, like, three verses memorized IF that. this is the day that the lord has made let us rejoice and be glad in it psalm 118:4 & the lord said "let there be light" & light was made genesis 1:3 Only the wicked run when there is no-one chasing them; the righteous are as bold as a lion proverbs 28:1 except I didn't know the corresponding verse for that last one. & ofc everyone knows the corinthians one about love, 1:13, & that one from John (I had to look it up bc I didn;t know the quote nor the verse but thankfully it is famous enough that I got it) 3:16

Check it out, as you should.

What's between these two? Oh wait yeah it is the problem with Jordan. RC:Ah. Perhaps Bobby S had an accomplice. A cold-blooded, murderous sheep. 14 grand? wowie. Yeah THAT was too much fiber, it was DEF planted.

How do you communicate?

Also it has been a night already at least, where is fenton staying? where was he staying before he waltzed into the bar? transcript is incorrect, it is "you know" not "yo" but w/e. Also ryan my man why take off your hood now? Man could use a hat, probs one of those hats that all my irish canadian shetland canadian french canadian ukranian canadian metis fiddle friends wear, it would fit in fine

Esposito hkhjdfkghfjh reminder to myself: talk about the clip when u post it bc there is too much to talk about jshskdjfhskjdhfsjkfhs

He loves her, honestly. But don't kiss her He got her a toy at a ring toss uwu "unlike you" but don't kiss her oh thank goodness

lmao he says waceway not raceway ALL OF THE METRO CARDS!?

I like how they are all old-style phones EXCEPT for his who's fast eddie? Also Liam just standing there (man looks good tho, I like his shirt) & btw when DID ryan learn to play such good pool? (I feel bad for the audio director battling with the visual director over the pool balls) These two REALLY ARE friends who's keane? Also why is liam allowed his phone? & keane just said there WAS a rat, he might have said "u got a rat but you were wrong abt who it was" bobby's eyes what went ALL the way around, was that on purpose? bc that's heck of math there hit the head? Is that another version of hit the hay?

walking right in, I thought For Sure someone would be there NO WHAT IF IT IS THE WRONG SAFE OH NO THE MONEY IS WRONG HE'S GOING TO NOTICE oh thank goodness he didn't look over to see if the bible was there, but he KNOWS smth is up

*o'connell leaves from that same room* who calls someone sport except for dads? Take a ride? Jesus carrying his own cross Ok THAT was sus af, but I mean, if I was a drug supplier then I would also be scared, even if I was not an undercover pig.

(I thought that was the time he did the thing, you know, got the thing off of liam & made the connection, but in the next scene esposito is calling him, calling ryan's phone ofc but still)

Why did Jenny come here? Did they call her here? Love, my dude. Ah yes, not one single reason, many of them Ah HERE is esposito on the phone

I realized this the other day & didn't have access to tumblr & I wasn't even watching but Ryan/fenton Asks Liam Out Loud

fenton/ryan is so short compared to liam also I was SO excited seeing this scene bc I had seen it before in gifs & stuff

Ok so she got nabbed by the cops two days ago so fenton has only been back for two days? they totally could have made this a two part episode. Anyway my point was two days ago & suddenly fenton oconnell shows up mysteriously again & is talking with siobhan, of COURSE they know he's in on it

Oh to PROVE he knew nothing heck man this is a heck of a story (also if he pulled it out of his waistband u know he had no bullet in the chamber & safety on, so you SHOULD check the gun.)

My man would shoot bobby s? a man fenton considered to be a friend even if ryan was trying to take him down? Is that... legal?

Siobhan saying that is not helping his case (& he cocks the gun but he really should not, JUST IN CASE it was already cocked & had a bullet in the chamber, you could have just clogged the gun.) & the music is so good

So... so shoot him yeah lol ofc it was empty

Why r u just giving away your full name lol b'y idk if u can place em under arrest when it is liam, keane, bobby s, & some other ppl too & then also reverse pick pockets? voice so deep when he yells, love it, & calls him javi, I've seen a clip of this so I know it exists & I don't need to clip it myself but I'm tempted to. Maybe later if I don't have to give back these CDs as soon as I thought. Edit: found a clip

that moment of fear,,,, hoo

esposito's gun lol He just knows she's on the other side? Castle just there lmao

ngl I half expected ryan to kiss bobby s. Judas betrayed jesus with a kiss. (& for the last time, judas did not want jesus to die, he just wanted to get jesus away from this town bc there were problems brewing, judas was the finance guy of the disciples, he got mad about mary maggie using perfume on jesus's feet instead of selling it & giving the money to the poor, judas was not the evil double crosser ppl make him out to be) ryan looks almost sad sending bobby away & seeing siobhan. edit:

Also is it freaking dawn? Lucky ryan, changing back into a suit, not only that but a matching three piece suit. He is going overboard in that direction to feel more like himself instead of going no vest just tie or no tie just vest, or jeans no dress pants, or dress pants with a random jacket, this man wanted it to be on the far end of his style spectrum.

Castle & the football reminds me of that time castle Did Not catch the baseball & it crashed into smth & nobody acknowledged it

No like it-- what was it? What (from the diner) are you specifically apologizing for? The tone? not listening? What specifically was the apology in reference to?

Lady macbeth lol & that's why liam was so loyal even after this

No what is jordan ABOUT? Bro I thought james bonde & your dad's book inspired you to be a writer. Markiplier moments. Holding her <3 He remembers his name bc you told him bro

SOD: I was hoping you’d come. KR: I wanted to say goodbye this time. SOD: Goodbye makes me feel like I’ll never see you again. KR: You won’t. ((OOF)) *her face falls, but she knows it has to happen* KR: Tomorrow you’ll be in a new city. Have a new name. You’ll get to start over again. SOD: Why did you do this? Risk your life for me? KR: You know why. SOD, nodding sadly: This Kevin Ryan guy? I wish I would have met him sooner. KR: laughs She leans in to kiss his cheek. He knows he has to leave, and he doesn’t look back when he does. She sighs heavily before she gets back to packing

Also his coat with the collar like that? nice

Finally back home! lmao the music sdjfhsjdfskldfklsdjf clipping this now this is great & fun She's pregnant I'm so happy for them! I am afraid of the passage of time but I am so happy for them! hsdjakhsdkjhfjdh & they are so adorable

What a great great episode! It totally could have been a two-part-er imo, but the alexis kidnapping one took precedent & tbh that's valid. I just really enjoyed this one. As did most of the fandom.

[priioritys]

if crazy equals genius, then I'm a fucking arsonist - i'm a rocket scientist. you can set yourself on fire, but you're never gonna burn, burn, burn. you can set yourself on fire, but you're never gonna learn, learn, learn.

closed starter for @50shadesofkola // crazy=genius by panic! at the disco

it’s quite the sight, iona imagines, but thus is the life of a criminal like her. she’s dressed like she’s working in an office, blonde hair laying flat against a nice blouse that’s tucked into a pencil skirt above some modest heels, but everything else in the scene is like a nightmare. there’s a smoking gun in her hand - complete with a silencer - and a bloody body in front of her, slowly seeping into the concrete. the sound of footsteps has her spin on her heel, pointing her gun at the intruder. “if you even think about snitching, you’re next.”

[flying-elliska]

Just binge read the Bone Season series by Samantha Shannon and !!!!!! amazing. Now I want to yell about it for a bit, bear with me (essay incoming sorry)

- the concept already, urban fantasy dystopia, just feels both so fresh and so obvious it's surprising it's not more of a Thing, and the world building is next level. the modern technology + Victorian aesthetics is not just cool (although it is) it evokes the fact that Victorian England was a brutal, very unequal and fucked up society, so it really fits a dystopia. Plus Scion is also an evil empire that invades other countries, which is also thematically relevant, as is the fact that the MC is Irish.

- I'm obsessed with the concept of a magical mob and Underworld (unsurprisingly) and people who are pushed to the margins of society because their very existence has been outlawed and bond together to find freedom but are also forced to exist in a state of constant brutality and the damage it all does

- the first book throws a lot of plot and world building at you in ways that can be a bit overwhelming and confusing, and doesn't give you a lot of time to connect emotionally to the characters, so that took me a while, but it's really worth pushing through for, i love them all now.

- I love the main character, Paige, so much. she's a survivor ; clever, witty, action oriented and very down to earth ; she's also very competent in ways that feel earned, and interestingly flawed, not some gratuitous emotionless Strong Female Character with plot armor or a 'not like other girls' complex. She's proud and she has a mean, ruthless streak. She's brave, too loyal for her own good, and impulsive to the point of recklessness, and sometimes her gambles pay off and sometimes she has to pay a very heavy price for them (it made me yell at the page several times). It's really cool to see a female MC that is so invested in the politics of her world. I hate that so many female mains in fantasy or dystopia are these isolated loners who hate politics, only really care about a handful of people and want to retire to their husband/2.5 kids happy ending as fast as possible, with a plot-line that focuses over personal development rather than political goals, because it sends this weird message that women are not meant to be in the public space. (Not making this into a rant about the Shadow and Bone books but lol I could)

Paige has to shoulder massive burdens that nobody in their right mind should want and that's understandable, but you do get the sense that she enjoys being a criminal, running free and scheming and climbing over roofs and outwitting her enemies and sticking it to the government. She doubts herself sometimes, worries about people only valuing her for her powers, but she doesn't have a lot of time to waste on self-consciousness, angsting or moping about her feelings. It's very empowering to read. And she's fiercely compassionate in moments where it's actually very dangerous for her to be. She has this constant struggle between the part of her that finds injustice intolerable and the part of her that is grimly pragmatic. This is exactly what women in fiction have been excluded from for too long, complex dilemmas about action and morality taken seriously, not just love triangle shit. It's great. Although wow does she deserve a break. Ouch. Baby </3

- the world is incredibly fucked up but there seems to be no sexism/homophobia/racism, which is refreshing to read. the main romance is m/f but there's a lot of ambient queerness, just because and not to 'make a point' ; the author has confirmed that the MC is demisexual, her bff is gay, the love interest is pan, there's a badass trans commander/mob boss, you get randomly informed that this henchwoman has a wife or that this mobster is trying to save his boyfriend, it's great (and it's not a word-of-god after the fact thing like jkr it's actually shown on the page, they just don't use any labels)

- the main romance is a slow build that is very low-key at first, enemies to reluctant allies to friends to lovers, but becomes really powerful over time. the fact that the MC is demi means it can't rely on 'omg so hot i can't stop thinking about him!' clichés - nothing wrong with attraction at first sight but it often leads to lazy storytelling and irritating instalove, tell over show romances. the characters are drawn to each other but it's more of a meeting of minds and souls at first, admiration and common goals, and their actions are still first and foremost guided by strategy, not sentiment. (sidenote I've often wondered if i wasn't at least a little demi myself. that would explain why i have such high standards for credible romance lmao.) also there's a significant power imbalance at the start but it gets very much deconstructed before anything can happen and it's an interesting negotiation. Warden could easily have fit in the 'brooding immortal douchebags' category but there's an alienness and gentleness to him that lifts him above that, along with the respect and space he gives to Paige and their shared experience of trauma and hopes for a better world. Her hot-headedness and his calm, deadpan sort-of-humor play off each other really well. Also I love the idea that develops over the series that their connection isn't a distraction from their fight but that it makes them stronger and allows them to resist and find solace from the deluge of constant horror that is their world. their whole dynamic in s4...no words. also the second time i read a scene where one character is bandaging the other's wounds and there's touch aversion involved and like, I LOVE that.

- lots of complex different bad guys. some are just brutes, some are sadistic masterminds with superiority complexes, some are deceptive and manipulative and morally ambiguous. love that the Big Bad Guy is a woman - female characters being fully realized means that sometimes, they're just incredibly evil (as long as it's not tied to their gender, i love that). Paige and Jaxon's relationship is fascinating - he's a terrible, manipulative person but i do feel in his own way, he cares about her and wants to see her thrive ; but that's not necessarily a good thing as he sees it as a justification to make her go through awful things. She knows he's awful but she can't get over the fact that he took her in, taught her, believed in her and gave her a sense of belonging and freedom when nobody else did ; she was super proud of being his mollisher and it makes sense it would take time for her to rebuild her sense of self without that, on her own. I like that the ambiguity isn't resolved (it's also a very good illustration of how emotionally abusive parental dynamics can get their hooks in you). The fact that he's aroace really works there too, could have been a lot creepier otherwise and i feel that's really not the point.

- also it's really cool how each book really feels like its own thing, it never feels repetitive, there are huge twists and a shift of focus each time - the penal colony in Oxford in the first, the London Underworld in the second, traveling through England in the third, Paris in the fourth, etc. The pace is pretty breakneck and i wasn't bored for one moment - actually at times i would have liked more quiet moments w the characters. There are two novellas that focus more on that and the second one is an exploration of trauma and recovery that's particularly hard hitting and beautiful. The first book does feel like a beginner novel, it's a bit clunky in terms of exposition, pacing and character development etc ; and there are moments where all the violence and brutality feel a bit repetitive ; but overall the story builds up so beautifully and in so many complex ways it's just really worth it and it's not for nothing i read the four books and two novellas in five days. just have to wait for the next one now though argh

- anyway more people should read it

[wouldpollyapprove]

I’m Not Like Her

Summary: Y/n never thought she’d take a job as a barmaid, but she had to do what she had to do. Fleeing from a mob in Aberdeen, she was willing to do anything to live a peaceful life. And if that meant working for the Shelby’s then so be it. Life was normal until the mob decided to make an appearance in Birmingham, leading Tommy start to believe Y/n wasn’t exactly who she said she was.

Request: 17 from humor and 4 from misc? With tommy please 🥺❤️

Requested by @jenepleurepasbaby

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Language, alcohol, violence, angst 

A/N: This is barely edited b/c I have no paitence for that, but I really like how this turned out. Oh, and the cocktail I mentioned is from the 1920s but I’m not sure if it was popular in the UK or not. Anyway, I hope you guys like it and sorry for the angst, I couldn’t help myself.

Part Two

Masterlist

The noise filled the air, keeping people focused on what they were doing. It was too loud for anyone to notice much more than what was in front of them due to the alcohol in their system. It was always like that in the Garrison on a Friday night. Men clocked out of work, grabbed a girl, and headed for the pub. That’s how it always went.

Y/n had no time to think about anything but cocktail recipes as she filled orders. The men of Small Heath ordered everything straight out of the bottle. Whether it be whiskey, gin, or rum, it was always served either plain or on the rocks with a splash of water. It all came down to how much they wanted to stumble when they walked out of the door. The woman that tagged along were the ones that wanted to drink something fancy. They wanted to be more than some dirt poor girl from the wrong side of town. A lady in a countryside manor or a duchess in a French Château is what they wanted to be.

And that is what Y/n tried her best to do, give them a piece of a reality that would never be theirs.

She was too busy filling orders to notice the men that had entered the bar. Their appearance was almost identical to that of the Peaky Blinders that frequented the streets. They all wore neatly pressed suits, bulky overcoats covering their suit. No suspicion would have been drawn if it weren’t for the hats that sat upon their heads. 

Handing over the fifth Sidecar she’d made in the last fifteen minutes, Y/n wiped her hands off on her apron. “Good Lord, is it ever gonna slow down?” 

Edith shook her head from beside her. “I fuckin’ wish. I’m sick of this Irish beer Arthur ordered. Everyones to pissed to realize it’s shit.”

Y/n chuckled, “That they are.” Her eyes wandered around the packed bar, landing in bursts on the drunks that stumbled around. Just as she was about to turn back to her work, her eyes landed on three well-dressed men at the door. All the blood drained from her face, turning it ash white. The tammies they wore picking them out of the crowd

“Are you alright?” Edith asked, turning from pouring another glass of whiskey on the rocks. 

Her coworker nodded, before glancing at the clock on the wall above them. “Yeah, yeah, I’m alright. I’m off in five-” Mary passed behind her, on time for her shift for once. “-and Mary’s here so I think I’m going to head home.”

She wasn’t given a second glance as she stripped her apron off and fetched her coat from the back room. Eyes followed her like a hawk until she reached the door. Y/n didn’t bother to look at the three men that stood in front of the door, she shoved past them, knowing they wouldn’t make a scene. 

With the door to the Shelby’s private room open, Tommy kept his eye trained on the men while he kept up with the conversation he was having with Michael. The grip on his glass tightened when Y/n appeared and shoved passed two of them. He would have thought that by the time Y/n got off the men would have ordered a drink and found a table, but the stood near the door like statues. Only moved, turning on their heels, when Y/n shoved them out of her way and followed a few feet behind her. 

It was odd. Everything about it was odd. The men that had entered the bar ten minutes before were odd. Tommy could have sworn he’d seen the men once before. London came to mind when he thought of them and how they’d dressed. But no one in London would be caught dead dressing like that. And the man found it odd how Y/n shoved passed them, something he knew she would never do.

Tommy and Y/n had an interesting relationship.

Tommy was in love with her, there was no way he could deny it. He could ignore it, though. After what happened with Grace two years before, he wasn’t sure he was ready to wear his heart on his sleeve. Every once and a while, a sharp pain would overtake his heart and make him remember why he was afraid to love so openly again. He tried though. He tried to do as much as he could for her with what he had. Tommy did his best to protect and behind closed doors, he showed her his heart.

But that could never be aired out in the open.

Thomas Shelby couldn’t have people seeing him weak over a woman. He couldn’t be seen once more being destroyed by the touched of a woman who’d betrayed him.

Y/n was much different than her lover. She was as loyal as they came and would never betray him, not when he owned her heart. Not one to love as few had ever shown her such a thing, she had no problem giving Tommy the love he deserved. She didn’t care about the blood on his hands or the damage caused by the war. She saw past his outward appearance and his tough exterior, loving who he was before and after damage had been done to his heart and soul.

Though he was concerned, there was business to be done and it couldn’t wait. No longer a believer, Tommy prayed to God that he wasn’t making a mistake for not following after her.

Stepping out onto the dirt-covered cobblestones, the cold air bit at her exposed skin as Y/n waited for the men to exit behind her. She turned when the door creaked open, more light pouring out onto the street.

The tallest of the three linked his arm with her’s, dragging her down the street, her protests drowned out by the sound of the other men lighting their cigars. Once he believed them to be far enough from prying eyes, in front of a factory that was closed for the night, he stopped and swung the girl in front of him. “Didn’t think I’d fin ya, did ya?”

“You fuckin’ bastard,” Y/n spat, pulling her arm out of his grasp. “What the fuck are you doing here, Roger?”

It had been ages since the two had last seen each other, parting onto a hill that overlooked Aberdeen, blood and tears on both their faces. They’d shared some good times, getting into all the trouble they could. They ran from the law in Edinburgh, jumping a train with a bottle of whiskey in their bag. Y/n stayed by his side when his father put him in charge of his family’s company and she watched him turn into a hungry monster, out for money and blood.

A laugh vibrated his chest, he leaned forward, moving a piece of curly hair out of her face. How he’d missed those curls of her’s. “I’ve come to ask for your help, love.”

Swatting his hand away from her face, she pushed him away, wishing to create distance between them. The men beside him, supposed to be his body guards, did nothing, believing she held no power. She rolled her eyes at their dismissals, Ed and Jim had never been very good at keeping their boss out of danger. “No fucking way will I ever help you.”

“Ya used to help with everything. There was nothin’ ya wouldn’t do fer me.”

“That was before you killed Charlie-” Y/n folded her arms across her chest, wrapping her coat around her tighter. “He was my friend, Roger.”

The man rolled his eyes. He never cared about what he had to do to keep his business running. “He was taking you from me.”

“Your brutish behavior was taking me away from you. Don’t confuse the two.” Y/n reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She waltzed around the men as she dug around for a lighter, knowing the men in front of her weren’t gentlemen and would never offer over their lighters. 

Before she could get her cigarette lite, a crash from the alley across from them caught everyone’s attention. Roger, Ed, and Jim reached under their coats for their weapons. Y/n turned to see a couple of Peaky boys walk out of the alley. She’d seen them before, they normally helped in the betting shop and had accompanied their boss to London a time or two. “Roger, don’t shoot them,” she demanded, trying to step in his way. 

The Peaky Blinders drew their own weapons, ready to fire if they had to. 

Y/n rolled her eyes. Why were men the way they were? Instead of staying and watching blood spill, she turned her back to the group of men. “Don’t do anything too stupid, Roger. No one here will save you arse,” she warned him, walking into the darkness of Small Heath.

*~~*~~*

The two Peaky Blinders that escaped unscathed from their encounter with Roger Flint, which was a relief. One of the men knew exactly who Roger was as he came from Scotland. He also knew how rare it was for Roger to let someone live in a firefight. 

With ragged breaths, the two men rushed into the Garrison and wasted no time to find Tommy. Their boss was still where he was when Y/n had left, leaning in his chair, cigarette between his lips and glass of whiskey in his hand. 

The Shelby’s all turned when Ricky entered the private room panting like a dog. “What the fuck happened to you?” John asked, a little laugh ending his sentence. 

“W-we were out… out by the factory,” he started, clutching his side. “And Roger Flint was out there with some of his men.”

“Y/n was there with ‘em,” the man beside him added.

The mention of her name forced Tommy to his feet, his glass shattered to the floor. “Was she hurt?”

Ricky shook his head. “No, no-” He took a deep breath, trying to expand his lungs. “She seemed to know him. Personally.”

Was that worse than being caught with a copper? The mobster hadn’t the faintest clue, but he didn’t like the sound of it. “Where is she now?”

The two men exchanged glances, surprised that they hadn’t been chewed out for leaving her. “Don know. She left, I think she went home.”

Dragging his hand over his face, Tommy sat back down. How did Y/n know Roger Flint? That wasn’t a man anyone knew casually. A sigh escaped his lips as he took Arthur’s drink. The alcohol burned his throat as he emptied the glass. He thought Y/n was nothing but honest with him, but that was clearly a lie. 

So there Tommy sat, his family exchanging worried glances from around the room, while all his fears washed over him like a raging river.

*~~*~~*

Y/n slept like a baby, Roger easily faded from her memory as she slept. He was never much to remember. The man was nothing but an overgrown baby trying to make a name for himself as a mobster. It was pathetic. All that went through her mind as she dressed for work was the amount of glasses she’d have to clean off of tables and the shattered glass that would need to be swept off the floor. 

As she did every morning, Y/n stopped by the small cafe around the corner from her house. She was never one for cooking and her kitchen didn’t permit more than a sandwich to be made. It always seemed to bring her joy, stopping in to get a scone, and chatting with the owner. It was the start she needed for what she knew would be a long day.

Once she was feed, Y/n wasted no time walking to work. Dodging children, who ran through the street like monkeys, and women gossiping as they headed to the market, she finally arrived at the doors of the Garrison. Fetching the key out of her purse, she dropped it back in when she found the door unlocked.

The Shelbys had obviously arrived before her.

A smile tugged at her lips upon entering the pub, memories from the night before playing in her mind. Though the place was a mess, she was happy to be at work then to be helping Roger. Anything was better than being in the same room as him. Her smile faltered when she caught a glimpse of Tommy behind the bar. His muscles were tight and there was fire in his eyes. He looked up at her and all Y/n could see was boiling anger. 

She did her best to send him a smile as she tugged off her coat, placing it on the bar. “Good morning, love.”

His knuckles turned white against the bottle of whiskey he’d grabbed off the shelf. “Don’t bother, Y/n,” he growled. 

The smile dropped to the floor along with her eyes. Roger clearly hadn’t killed the Blinders, damn. It would have been much easier to pretend that her time with the Scottish mobster never happened then to ever have to explain it to the man she loved. “What’s wrong, Tommy?” she asked, deciding it would be easier to play dumb. 

It was a long shot, but there was a chance she could get the man to believe her word over that of his men.

Tommy shot her a dangerous look. A warning that stated he wouldn’t believe a thing she said. “Who were you with after work last night?”

“No one.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not,” she snapped. 

There was a pause, making Y/n nervous, as Tommy opened the bottle of whiskey and poured it into the glass in front of him. The pub was silent while he sipped at it before he placed it back on the bar. “Let’s not play this game. I know a liar when I see one, Y/n, because I’m a liar.”

Y/n rolled her eyes at his words. “What do you want me to say? That I was with someone that wasn’t you?”

“Don’t play dumb, Y/n. Flint is the fucking enemy! And there you were waltzing’ around with him! How fuckin’ loyal!” he yelled and in a fit of rage grabbed his glass and threw it at the wall beside him. “I thought you were better than her, turns out you’re the same type of snake.”

His words burned against Y/n’s ear, causing her heart to shrivel up in pain. “Bite me,” she seethed. Before any more damage could be done, she reached for her coat and ran out the door., shouting, “I quiet,” on her way out.

How fucking stupid could she be, thinking she outrun away from Roger? He would always come back to haunt her. 

The door slammed behind her and once her feet hit cobblestone, she ran like a freight train, dropping her coat as she gained speed. She needed to create as much distance between her and Thomas Shelby as she could. God, she hoped to never see his face again.

Running along the streets of Small Heath, people shot her confused looks and moved out of her way as they saw nothing would stop her. Y/n ran, one foot in front of the other until her legs gave way and she tumbled to the ground. She pushed herself off the ground, sobs racked her body as she wandered into an alley, sliding down the wall of the brick building beside her.

“I’m not like her,” she muttered to herself between sobs. “I’m not like her.”

What Tommy didn’t know, was Roger was a no one to her. He had been nothing for a long time and she never planned on allowing him back in her life, not after all the pain he caused. But it was too late to explain that now. She had been labeled a traitor and there was no way to scrub that off.

The words tattooed across her forehead and the pain in her heart were nothing compared to the pain she felt for hurting Tommy as she did. He trusted her and, slowly, he was starting to recover from what Grace had done to him only for it to happen once more.

It killed her to think that she had done then one thing she swore to never do.

*~~*~~*

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[black-paraphernalia]

THIS IS A PIVOTING POINT IN HISTORY

OF ONCE WAS 45 CITY SQUARE BLOCK OF BLACK EXCELLANCE

IT SHOW WHAT A BLACK COMMUNITY CAN DO GIVEN THE CHANCE

AND WHAT A WHITE COMMUNITY CAN DO GIVEN A CHANCE

WE MUST LEARN FROM HISTORY AND ACT ON THE KNOWLEGE TO IMPROVE OR CONTINUE TO LIVE WITH THE DAMAGES IN THE WORST WAY.

PART 3 OF 3

The significant thing about Greenwood is it was not just a Black thing. It was quintessential America,” says James O. Goodwin, owner of weekly newspaper The Oklahoma Eagle, which traces its roots to Greenwood’s Tulsa Star, where his grandfather worked. 

Goodwin was born in Tulsa in 1939, the son of a Black Wall Street resident. “It was like any other developing neighborhood, whether that’s Irish, or Greek, or Jewish,” he explains. “These people embraced faith, they believed in education and hard work. They believed in capitalism and freedom.

“Greenwood shows that when we are left to our own devices and don’t have a knee to our neck, we can achieve extraordinary things,” says John W. Rogers Jr., the chairman of Ariel Investments and great-grandson of J.B. Stradford, ‘Tulsa proves that African American can build great businesses and be extraordinary successful.”

“On the other hand,” Rogers adds, “It shows you that unfortunately so many times in our history, when Black folks get a few steps ahead, we get pulled back down... It’s why the wealth gap in this country is so dramatically worse than it was 25 or 40 years ago.”  

What was loss and honorable mentions of wealth builders

A.J. Smitherman, whose family moved to Indian Territory in the 1890s, founded the Tulsa Star, a Black newspaper based in Greenwood. As the publisher, Smitherman was outspoken about discrimination and regularly informed African Americans about their legal rights and called for Black men, many in Tulsa who served in World War I, to take up arms, in response to white mob violence.

Education also drew Black families to Greenwood. In 1913, Booker T. Washington High School opened, hiring Ellis Walker Woods as its principal, a beloved educator who would serve in that role for 35 years. Woods, who was college-educated, walked from Memphis to Oklahoma after seeing a flyer advertising for Black teachers in Oklahoma.

John and Loula Williams became some of the wealthiest Black people in Tulsa. They owned the Dreamland Theatre on Greenwood Avenue, along with a rooming house, a confectionary, commercial rental property and a garage. Loula Williams was very much a partner in all the couple’s businesses.

Mabel Little, from Boley, Oklahoma, arrived in Tulsa in 1913 with $1.25 in her pocket. Little, who lived to be 104 and survived the massacre, opened a successful hair salon and worked in the beauty business for decades.

 Simon Berry built a private transportation network of Model T. Fords and buses, which transported residents through Greenwood and all the way to downtown Tulsa. Berry soon began chartering planes for Tulsa’s increasingly wealthy oilmen.  (Except from history.com)

Black Paraphernalia Disclaimer - images from Google images

Along with this massive prosperity, the community invested in houses of worship and schools. By 1920, Greenwood had a handful of churches, most notable by the impressive Mt. Zion Baptist Church built in 1909. 

The district had its own elite high school, named after Booker T. Washington, which boasted a curriculum that would prepare students to eventually study at colleges like Columbia in New York, Oberlin in Ohio, and historically Black colleges such as Hampton, Tuskegee, and Spelman.

So important was education in upwardly mobile Greenwood that teachers were among the highest paid workers. Many had their own Steinway pianos in their apartments, while the school’s principal, E.W. Woods, lived in a six-room townhouse.

Others built pool halls, auto repair shops, beauty parlors, grocers, barber shops, and funeral homes. There was a Y.M.C.A and a roller skating rink, a hospital, and a U.S. post office substation. With all this activity, Greenwood’s economy was gushing like one of Getty’s wells. It was calculated that every dollar spent in Greenwood circulated the Black economy nearly thirty times as business thrived. (excerpts from forbes.com)

[nerteragranadensis]

assorted thoughts on my first Leverage rewatch since I binged the whole series in 2016 (spoilers for everything through s3e4 The Scheherazade Job):

it’s really cool to see just how much character relationship stuff is set up in the early seasons, before it gets stated more explicitly in s4/s5.

Hardison/Parker is a perfect example- Hardison flirts with Parker in "The Nigerian Job”, and there’s explicit romantic tension btwn them in “The Wedding Job”. That’s episode seven in the broadcast order, but if you watch in the DVD/intended order, that’s episode three. it’s amazing to see how early that relationship is set up and how slow the burn is, especially considering it’s an interracial ship- and it’s great to have the writers follow through with it by the end of the show.

another example is Parker becoming the mastermind- there’s a handful of episodes in s2 where she’s clearly shadowing Nate and observing his plans (The Order 23 Job, The Top Hat Job, The Lost Heir Job, and The Runway Job come to mind), and in The Inside Job Nate and Hardison straight-up say that Parker’s plans for breaking into the steranko building were as solid as anything Nate ever came up with. In season 3.

y’all were right, Parker grifting in The Iceman Job is incredibly hot

every episode is good, I love all of them, but the two-parter of The Three Strikes Job/The Maltese Falcon back-to-back blew my fucking socks off this time around

it’s so good. it’s so good. there are so many small things that I love. Eliot having to play baseball and actually getting really into it. (”They named a sandwich after me!”) The mob stuff, which is especially funny when every other episode of s2 involves some kind of mob activity (you’ve got the Armenian mob, the Russian mob, the Irish mob, the Chinese triads... seriously). Sophie coming back at the end, a twist that I completely forgot about, which made it that much better--seriously, I probably made the same face Nate did when she showed up.

Nate and Hardison pretending to be mob guys to interrogate the mayor... ngl, I thought it was a little bit hot

I love any kind of grift/subterfuge where the characters pretend to be People They Definitely Aren’t, so it was fun on that level too

and the ending of The Maltese Falcon Job... wow. I remember being impressed even the first time I saw it, because it’s an ending that ties seasons 1 & 2 together into one big arc not only for Nate but for the team. It’s incredibly dramatic (the double cross! the self sacrifice! the kiss! Nate gets shot!) but it’s not a cliffhanger, it gives us a real ending for these characters... they truly could’ve ended the show after season 2 and it would’ve been a complete, compelling story. Obviously I’m glad they didn’t! but just the fact that they could have... the writing on this show, I swear

If I didn’t already know that Sophie’s arc in s2 was written that way to shoot around Gina Bellman’s pregnancy, I would’ve never figured it out. Sophie’s arc in s2 is so good! It actually makes sense why she would want time off to explore and maybe find herself! and the rest of the team ends up growing from it, too! so many fun episodes of s2 hinge on Sophie, even if she’s not physically there. And again, the fact that she’s gone for most of the second half of s2 makes her return in the finale that much better.

Sophie cons her own team at the end of season one and Nate cons his own team at the end of season two. it’s parallelism

Moving on to season 3- The Reunion Job is so extra. I’m not even sure if it’s a good episode, but it sure as hell is fun

The last episode I saw was The Scheherazade Job, which I remember disliking the first time I saw it. I thought the hypnosis twist was dumb, came out of nowhere, and took agency away from Hardison. On review... I think I’ve softened to it. The episode points out that the hypnosis was kind of an asshole move; Nate outright tells Hardison that being the mastermind sometimes means manipulating your own team (and that’s something Hardison won’t do, because he’s a sweetheart <3). And the episode also notes that Hardison always had the skill to play that violin solo, just not the confidence. I still think the hypnosis thing is a little out there, but what holds the episode together for me is that final heist sequence. Organizing a heist set to a musical performance? Amazing. Brilliant. Showstopping. The opera scene from mission impossible: rogue nation wants what this episode has

and then Hardison gets up to play his solo and he plays it and it’s so beautiful that literally everyone stops to listen. Everyone is moved, including me. Parker starts crying. the team almost blows the entire con, just to hear Hardison play, and it’s worth it. It’s just... a breathtaking scene.

I... really like Nate. I love the whole team, obviously, and if you asked me to pick a favorite character I’d have a really hard time, but I do like Nate. I think he’s interesting and even relatable (in a few specific ways. Nate is also an asshole and I do not want to be like him). This is kind of unfortunate in light of the recent allegations against Timothy Hutton (tw for sexual assault if you follow that link). I’m still working through my feelings w/r/t Leverage since this news broke. obviously it hasn’t stopped me from rewatching the show, but... I don’t know. I still struggle w/ how to engage with media that I love when one or more of the people who created that media (and those characters) was a sexual predator. At the very least, I am glad that Hutton won’t be returning for the Leverage reboot.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

I have a couple of questions: •Does Chris’s late father have any family still living? And/Or remaining members of his Mob? If so, how intimately aware of his family were they? •Does Aunt Jo have a husband, or an immediate family member she lives with? A boyfriend/Girlfriend maybe? •Has Karen already kicked the bucket at this point? If so, what has become of her boys by this time?

Also:  One more I meant to add to the other list and forgot to (which I don’t know how because it was the BIGGEST ONE I HAD TO ASK) Where is Kauri right now (the day Branch died)? Where is Chris’s bigger Romantic brother? I need to k n o w

CW: DRUNKEN STUFF ON THE LAST ONE

See, @raigash, now you can see why I didn’t answer any of these questions since I knew I was going to write Oliver’s death within the next couple of days!

But I want to go ahead and answer now, just because some of the questions are still interesting to talk about.

1. Paul Higgs does have some living distant family, though no immediate family. His parents are dead. His cousins are mostly still living, many of them involved in the same organization he was - in fact, that’s how he got involved in the first place. It’s not exactly a family-owned business, but his family was heavily involved in it. Well, I guess it’s a family business NOW...

2. Clearly still members of the mob, haha. Paul’s cousin currently heads up the local branch of that particular organization, although he only recently took control after a long time spent slowly building influence within the organization while the boss didn’t notice in time.

3. Aunt Jo doesn’t have a relationship right now, although she does have a couple ex-husbands under her belt. Paul’s cousin is very aware of her. When Paul and Veronica died, he actually felt good about Tristan being sent to live with Ronnie’s little sister, and they felt like Tristan would be safe with family. They didn’t know Joanne. They regret that choice now and think Tristan might have been safer in the goddamn Irish mob.

4. No, Karen’s death is not involved in any of this and Karen testifies at the trial

5. On the night Oliver Branch died, Kauri was in a bar making several very fun mistakes, then calling @the-host-and-colton's Dustin drunk and leaving a long rambling voicemail in which he wishes that things were different and they could understand each other better and maybe one day and, you know, he’s going to figure himself out he totally will and then Kauri kind of just fell asleep on a park bench halfway through his ramble and the voicemail is just Kauri breathing and a couple bird noises until it times out and cuts off. 

[hussein-allam]

Things Don’t Entirely Fall Apart

“Turning and turning in the widening gyre   The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere   The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst   Are full of passionate intensity. Surely some revelation is at hand; Surely the Second Coming is at hand.   The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out   When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert A shape with lion body and the head of a man,   A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,   Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it   Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.   The darkness drops again; but now I know   That twenty centuries of stony sleep Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,   And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,   Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?”

- W.B. Yeats, “The Second Coming”.

As I read these lines, images from 9 years ago flash into my mind. Camels are charging through Tahrir Square with riders cracking their whips at the scattering masses, “mere anarchy is loosed upon the world”. What a few minutes earlier was a jubilant carnival, “a ceremony of innocence”, celebrating the birth pangs of freedom is transformed into a horrific medieval scene of epic barbarism. Violence erupts and “the blood dimmed tide is loosed everywhere”. With effort, I will myself back into the present and focus. With each word and line, Yeats’s poem resonates in my consciousness. Something is off however. Although I recognize the key and it seems to fit the lock of 2011’s door, it does not turn. It’s the wrong door. I look up the date in which the poem was written: 1919. Suddenly everything falls into place with surprising precision! The lock turns and that other older door is flung wide open.

It is a hundred and one years ago, Egypt is rising against British rule. “Turning and turning in the widening gyre the falcon cannot hear the falconer”. Sa’ad Zaghloul, “the falconer”, the sudden champion of Egyptian nationalism, has been exiled to Malta. Losing contact with their falconer the people, “the falcon”, are enraged and turn violent. Months of peaceful demonstrations, the “ceremony of innocence”, devolves into chaos as tens of British soldiers and hundreds of Egyptians are killed. Eventually the falconer is released from exile and, with his companions, allowed to attend the post-war Paris Peace Conference demanding Egypt’s independence. Britain’s obstinate refusal however causes doubt to creep into the group’s hearts and a chasm opens up amongst them. Should they take the crumbs offered to them? The “best lack all conviction” but back home “the worst are full of passionate intensity”.

Unprecedented images are pouring out of Cairo. Women are leaving their homes to lead demonstrations! Green revolutionary flags depicting crescent and cross united flutter in defiance! Egyptian muslims and christians are facing off the British together. “Surely some revelation is at hand; Surely the second coming is at hand.” Are centuries of religious unease coming to an end? Are we about to see the rebirth of Christ bringing peace to the world? But the tenacious British resist, cynicism wins the day, and America’s Woodrow Wilson ignores Egypt’s pleas abandoning his promise of universal self determination (Manela, “Woodrow Wilson and the Ugliest of Treacheries”). Yet the beast has stirred: “Hardly are those words out when a vast image of Spiritus Mundi troubles my sight. Lion body and head of man a gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, is moving its slow thighs.” The Sphinx, symbol of Egyptian nationalism comes to life. After “twenty centuries of stony sleep” under Greek, Roman, Arab, Turkish and now British rule; Egyptians have found their voice at last and nothing will be the same.

This is gold! A leading poet living in London sympathizing with our cause! How did everyone miss this for a hundred years? Am I deluding myself though? Did I fall into an interpretive rabbit hole of my own creation or did Yeats purposefully craft a mirror in which everyone can see their reflection? I must find proof.

Research unveils some confusing evidence. In a tome analyzing and explaining all of Yeats’s work, Daniel Tompsett puts forward an interpretation steeped in Ancient Egyptian mythology: “In the entirely Egyptian setting of the poem… the falcon is Horus, and the falconer his father, Osiris” (167). In this vein Tompsett interprets the poem as depicting the struggle between Horus and Set (the god of chaos). I can’t help but feel that I’ve stumbled onto another rabbit hole further removed from reality than mine.

More digging reveals an introduction by Marjorie Howes in the Cambridge Companion to W. B. Yeats setting the poem squarely in the context of the Irish revolution and European turbulences happening at the time (12) with Yeats depicted as a concerned citizen rather than an anti-colonial revolutionary sympathizer.

This is maddening. Every turn reveals a completely different meaning to Yeats’s words. I decide to go for the original source; “Michael Robartes and the Dancer”, Yeats’s collection of poems in which “The Second Coming” is Included. Perhaps footnotes written by Yeats himself will reveal his true intended meaning.

I find no footnotes or explanations but something much more interesting. Yeats’s handwritten drafts of the poem. Nineteen pages of them showing how he hesitated, crossed out, rewrote and refined every word and line (poetry is hard!). My heart sinks.

Yeats had the French, German and Russian revolutions on his mind. Marie Antoinette, along with the mob and Burke are there while Cairo’s crisis is nowhere in sight. The Sphinx is ours though and even the word “Egyptian” makes an entrance in one of the drafts before getting crossed out. Dejected, I eat my dinner.

But something nags at my mind. Pieces of the puzzle are subconsciously coming together. A few cancelled words and jumbled passages pull me back:

weary of the [?Egyptian] sleep at last all things Sleep stony Jelous at last, it has thrown off that sleep Jelous at last, & [?waked of its] sleep That                           of the stony For twenty centuries its stony sleep Were vexed and all but broken by the Second Were vexed Was Was vex to night mare by a rocking craddle [?shadow] And now at last, by jelousy stung awake (Yeats 159)

          Egyptians having seen the French, Russian, and German revolutions are “now at last, by jelousy stung awake”. While the poem does not actively engage with the headlines coming out of Egypt as I had first imagined, it does give us at least a passing nod.

          But Yeats had achieved something more important. By deliberately removing and obfuscating all references to individual nations, by abstracting his poem, he allowed it to grow and encompass wider meanings while retaining the underlying feelings of strife and anxiety. Universal feelings that all cultures can and did indeed connect with. I stand back to admire Yeats’s smooth mirror. My reflection stares back at me.

Word count: 1037

———————————————————————

Works Cited

Howes, Marjorie, and John Kelly, editors. The Cambridge Companion to W. B.                                   Yeats. Cambridge University Press, 2006.

Manela, Erez. “Opinion | Woodrow Wilson and ‘the Ugliest of Treacheries.’” The New York Times, 9 Mar. 2019, https://www.nytimes.com/2019/03/09/opinion/egypt-revolution-wilson.html.

Tompsett, Daniel. Unlocking the Poetry of W. B. Yeats.

Yeats, W.B. A Vision. London, Papermac, 1987. New York, Routledge, 2018.

Yeats, W.B. Michael Robartes and the Dancer. New York, Cornell University Press, 1994.

[afloweroutofstone]

Wendell Phillips was a rich kid who went to Harvard and then Harvard Law School, opening his law practice in Boston in 1834. The next year he saw an abolitionist speaker getting dragged down the street with a rope, and “[w]hen [he] ran to the street and inquired why the Boston regiment was not called out to protect the victim, a bystander pointed out that most of the regiment was in the [mob]” (Hofstadter)

He got so pissed off about what he saw as a violent violation of free speech that he started hanging out with abolitionists. He soon quit his law firm, and became one of the most famous abolitionist speakers in the country by charging tons of money for normal speaking engagements but offering to speak about slavery for free all over the country. He made a pretty sizable amount of money speaking and donated over 40% of it, including donations to the poor, refugees, and anti-slavery insurrectionist John Brown.

After the Civil War, he went on to advocate for redistributing slaveowners’ land to freed slaves, universal sufferage (including for women, black people, and Native Americans), respecting Natives’ land claims, Irish independnence, the emerging labor union movement, and eventually, democratic socialism. At the 1871 Labor-Reform Convention, he submitted a unanimously-accepted resolution which read in part:

“Resolved, -- That we declare war with the wages system, which demoralizes alike the hirer and the hired, cheats both, and enslaves the working-man; war with the present system of finance, which robs labor, and gorges capital, makes the rich richer, and the poor poorer, and turns a republic into an aristocracy of capital; war with these lavish grants of the public lands to speculating companies, and whenever in power, we pledge ourselves to cue every just and legal means to resume all such grants heretofore made; war with the system of enriching capitalists by the creation and increase of public interest-bearing debts. We demand that every facility, and all encouragement, shall be given by law to co-operation in all branches of industry and trade, and that the same aid be given to co-operative efforts that has heretofore been given to railroads and other enterprises. We demand a ten-hour day for factory-work, as a first step, and that eight hours be the working-day of all persons thus employed hereafter. We demand that, whenever women are employed at public expense to do the same kind and amount of work as men perform, they shall receive the same wages. We demand that all public debts be paid at once in accordance with the terms of the contract, and that no more debts be created. Viewing the contract importation of coolies as only another form of the slave-trade, we demand that all contracts made relative thereto be void in this country; and that no public ship, and no steamship which receives public subsidy, shall aid in such importation...

...there is one great movement. It is for the people peaceably to take possession of their own. No more riots in the streets; no more disorder and revolution; no more arming of different bands; no cannon loaded to the lips. To-day the people have chosen a wiser method, -- they have got the ballot in their light hands, and they say, "We come to take possession of the governments of the earth." In the interests of peace, I welcome this movement, -- the peaceable marshalling of all voters toward remodelling the industrial and political civilization of the day. I have not a word to utter, -- far be it from me! -- against the grandest declaration of popular indignation which Paris wrote on the pages of history in fire and blood. I honor Paris as the vanguard of the Internationals of the world. When kings wake at night, startled and aghast, they do not dream of Germany and its orderly array or forces. Aristocracy wakes up aghast at the memory of France; and when I want to find the vanguard of the people, I look to the uneasy dreams of an aristocracy, and find what they dread most. And today the conspiracy of emperors is to put down - what? Not the Czar, not the Emperor William, not the armies of United Germany; but, when the emperors come together in the centre of Europe, what plot do they lay To annihilate the Internationals, and France is the soul of the Internationals. I, for one, honor Paris; but in the name of Heaven, and with the ballot in our right hands, we shall not need to write our record in fire and blood; we write it in the orderly majorities at the ballot-box.”

After the Civil War ended and he shifted from abolitionism to these other causes, he went from a controversial national celebrity to someone generally shunned from respectable American political life. Despite this, he was invited to give a speech at his alma mater of Harvard in 1881. A gadfly even at 69, he used the speech to argue that scholars have a social responsibility “to help those less favored in life,” 86 years before Noam Chomsky argued the same during the Vietnam War. He called on them to “Sit not, like the figure on our silver coin, ever looking backward.” He was sure to provoke them further by defending the Russian nihilist movement, the same year they committed the assassination of Emperor Alexander II.

From his 1852 “Public Opinion” speech:

“Republics exist only on the tenure of being constantly agitated... The republic which sinks to sleep, trusting to constitutions and machinery, to politicians and to statesmen, for the safety of its liberties, will never have any.”

Thanks to Richard Hofstadter’s “The American Political Tradition and the Men Who Wrote It” for most of this.

[teddylowe]

&&. word has it ( olyvar peters ) was just spotted around the city. ( he/him ) is a ( 27 ) year old affiliated with ( no affiliation ). it’s been said that ( he ) resembles ( douglas booth ). ( he ) has been said to be ( convincing & sincere ) but also quite ( aloof & deceitful ). ( he ) is currently serving as a ( bar owner ). 

death tw (only mentions no details)

y’all im rlly working on a nice long bio but im so fucking tired and wanna get sOMETHING OUT 

olyvar’s dealt with a lot of death... like everyone he’s ever loved has died so the kid is w/o family 

there’s random death like his grandparents and childhood bff and teachers and stuff, and then there’s intense ones like his parents that i’ll talk about later

he’s like... he just believes he brings the kiss of death. so there’s self pity, sure, but it’s masked with a solid MEAN streak he’s got happening 

he built his walls so thick that not even he can penetrate them. don’t get me wrong he’s a very nice and honest guy but not about himself. SUCHHHHH A CLOSED BOOK 

so back to the parents ! they were involved with really innocent people that got stuck in a bad situation and were gunned down by cops :”((( so oly fucking hatesssss the police 

he’s at a crossroads with life, he’s like nearly 30 and has no ambitions but he wants to avenge his parents still so he’s been slowly getting friendly with the irish mob leader aka alex n so that’s happening slowly 

yeah htat’s him until i rlly play him 

to recap: he’s not the nicest, he’s witty and annoying about it. he won’t talk about himself so don’t even bother asking lol 

plot ideas: exes (any gender/non-gender), “friends” (u know not super close), maybe a close friend it depends, NYPD HATERS arrest him for being too sexy, anything else idk hmu 

omfg my name is mar i would love to be friends