#lee!tommy event

[8ightisfate]

[250318]

© TinyzooOO | do not edit and/or crop logo

[skz-haven]

© Stray Turtle | Do not edit.

[ybklix]

𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲

dear lord, when i get to heaven, please let me bring my man (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ fr omg

★ pairing: idol!lee felix x fem!reader

✦summary: You got your dream job on one of the most important day for fashion industry, everything seems like a fairy tale, until you meet one of the people you are working for, which complicates your thoughts, a guy with an angelic face, however he is for you the devil wearing custom couture Tommy Hilfiger.

✭ content - tags - warnings: smut / one night stand / use of “y/n”/ handjob / oral sex / soft degrading / dom felix / semi public sex / unprotected sex / etc lol

word count: 5.1k

(masterlist)

♡ notes: 2024 felix at the met gala ♡

a/n: had to write smth ab my man looking this good on a big day, oopsies / all fiction, don't really know how's behind scenes lol / i'm watching the series so i'm romanticizing the carrie type of writing, enjoy!

There’s an old saying… “what happens in Vegas, stay in Vegas”, and for the New Yorkers with enough amount of luck, the equivalent of that would be: “what happens in the Met Gala, stays in the Met gala.”

You either had to be a celebrity with high status, or a very wealthy person… or sometimes, just part of the staff; yes you were in last link, but you were still happy.

There you were, on the first Monday of May, standing outside of the iconic decorated stairs of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, on the also iconic, 5th avenue of East side of Manhattan. Living your dream, because this year, you were inside, and not anymore as a viewer.

Life was going great for you, you’ll graduate from college exactly in nine days, and you were booked as a tour guide in the Met Gala a month ago. It was your dream job, even though you majored in journalism, working for Vogue was always your dream to be, you’ve been applying for the Met ever since you turned eighteen, and finally there you were wearing a vintage YSL black dress, from a vintage store in Soho, whose rent costs more than you apartment’s, with some Manolo shoes, living your little Carrie Bradshaw fantasy. But that didn’t matter, yeah, she was a woman with a steady job and you only a freshly graduated who expected to get hired as soon as you get your diploma.

They prepared you the whole past month, and you picked up your ID last week; this was going to look wonderful in your resume. You loved fashion, arts, writing, you didn’t care there was another 500 people doing exactly the same as you, you were there, living inside your bubble of the gossip girl and devil wears Prada vibes.

A lot of people hated New York; but you never could, you had a nice apartment on west side of Manhattan and an incredible fashion taste. You had to work as a staff for one the most emerging kpop groups, Stray Kids, or at least that’s what you read about online, you did your research: eight male members, only two of them fluent in English and the rest of them just shy to speak it out loud… you weren’t that unfamiliar at all, you recognized kpop is one of the greatest genres these days, but you were twenty one and going through your finals as the provided you that information, so you followed their social medias, caught up a little in their updates, learned their names and faces —which was very important—, but couldn’t fully concentrate in how handsome they were or at least get yourself a little of fangirlism. Once again, you were sinking in the lasts and very important moments of college.

So the thing was simple, they usually bring their own people around but for this event was the exception, once they stepped on the radar of these popular stairs, they were under the Met Gala staff, that’s when you get in.

You were waiting for them standing among the group of people who would be working the same as you, all with their dress code in black-only etiquette, to go unnoticed. It was your first Met Gala, although you didn't want to flatter yourself either in such a big way, but you had chosen a sexy dress with your back uncovered, you wanted simplicity, but not too much. The heels were starting to bother you a bit until, as fate would have it, a stout black man in charge of monitoring, with headphones on his bald head and clipboard in his hand shouted in a strong New York accent to the group of people you were in.

“The following celebrities are Stray Kids, I repeat so you can listen in the back, Stray Kids is coming! Their team step up to lead them in.”

Nerves got the better of you, it was your turn; you had seen your other ‘colleagues’ guide their respective assigned celebrities, so now it was your time. You hurried to the entrance, along with another girl and two other men. The large black van pulled up to sidewalk and finally, just as you had researched, eight pretty East Asian looking men exited one by one.

You tried to identify the one you had previously studied as their leader and one of the English speakers, until he finally emerged just to one side of you.

“It's this way, boys” your coworker, who was a little ahead of you, led the way.

The eight of them walked a bit and met their designer, the legitimate Tommy Hilfiger, while among the chaos of noise and nerves you tried to identify each one you were working for; they were all wearing long coats but you could distinguish that it was just to hide their real attire.

But apparently you were not the only one nervous, it was also their first Met Gala, an incredibly big event, a bit out of what they knew, in one of the countries where the music market was of utmost importance to consider and succeed, each one of them recognized that this was an important day and simply one more step in their artistic career. They were all nervous and excited; but even so you noticed a somewhat monotonous expression on each of them, you thought it was just nerves. You got a good look at them all as they talked to their designer in charge and noticed how each one had their own charm, they were attractive and smelled quite nice. You thought about how much fun this job is for you, being around celebrities.

“And y/n, right?” he came up to you, the man who had previously been giving directions to your boys.

You nodded, confused, he went on to say:

“I’m informed that you will be going into the museum with them, you can take the lead” he said in a strangely kind tone.

You smiled at him, you had forgotten the last time you met a nice New Yorker. It was when you realized it was time, you took a breath with your cheeks and released them, once you saw they finished their little talk, you took a step so everyone could see you and introduced yourself; it was part of your job and you had been trained for it. You started with a “hi, guys”, told them your name and added that you would accompany them to the exhibit. You looked forward to going in there.

You got the attention of all eight of them, after all they were still men, foreign men excited for a new experience. Once you turned around as you led the way you questioned if wearing that open back dress was the best choice, you hadn't really intended it that way; you also didn't expect them all to be 100 times more attractive in person, the pictures you saw on the internet didn't do them justice.

All the members of Stray Kids were with their respective emotions on edge, but especially one of them didn't know how to control himself. Felix, who at all times kept a serious countenance was more than excited and his body was reacting to it, betraying him, he was aroused. He wasn't exactly in the mood for sex, but somehow he felt uncomfortably hard. He was simply an excited little Asian boy with a not-so-little problem. An erection in his pants.

Felix had the experience at these kinds of fashion events, but simply something about this city drove him incredibly crazy. Somehow he was thirsty for sex… but he didn't feel like he was at this very moment. He had to put on his best show and control his body, he slyly checked his pants and it was a relief that the design was perfectly loose so it couldn't be noticed. But it all got worse when he saw his pretty young guide and staff for tonight, with her pretty makeup and perfect hair done, with her back uncovered.

Felix read her name on her ID hanging on her body and checked slyly if anyone else of his friends and colleagues thought the same as him… he could notice it in the look of his friend Bang Chan, however Felix noticed the little importance that Chan himself gave her and continued treating her with kindness and courtesy, who from time to time gave her a certain look was his other friend Seungmin, who was the master of disguise, but not for Felix, not after knowing him so long and living with him.

But that was just the thrill of the moment, as Felix took full control of his body as he approached his final stretch, an interview and then the longed-for Met Gala stairs. Like a pro idol, he knew how to handle it, and everyone had a spectacular and memorable entrance.

You saw them from afar, Bang Chan had introduced you to each one of them and thanked you for accompanying them even though you hadn’t start yet, you thought he was an unreal man, in fact all eight of them were, their perfectly manicured faces and the subtlety of their make-up were to you so…. You were speechless; but if you had to choose one, putting yourself in the shoes of millions of girls around the world even of your age discovering an attractive boy band, maybe among them all… it would be the only blond guy with long hair. You thought between sighs how cute he was, you were down bad when it came to cute boys, also the long-haired ones.

You remembered his name, Felix; a little strange, it sounded like an old name but somehow it fit him so well, you thought; now you were not only fulfilling your dream job, you would be together with eight handsome men, you almost wanted to let out a little giggle, but it was time to monitor how well they took the pictures of your “bosses” as they posed on the carpet.

You waited a moment more before finally entering, it seemed like hours, until finally the doors opened for you and there suddenly you felt your heart burst, not even Felix's pretty face could have impacted you so much, the exhibition of unique pieces in the haute couture of fashion history.

“You can start to separate and see freely” you mentioned to them.

You saw them, they looked totally lost.

“Mm, I don't think so, we like to stay together” Chan answered with a nervous smile.

“Well, if you like, we can start here…” you spoke.

You didn't want to keep them tied up nor did you want to feel like a big deal, you were only going to accompany them and follow their instructions, however they seemed to follow yours; you gave yourself the task of showing them every corner and giving them a little summary of what each exhibit meant, however you couldn't help hiding your excitement, your eyes shone with care and all eight noticed your adorable expression, even those who couldn't fully understand you because of the language barrier, your expressions spoke for themselves. And Felix couldn't take his eyes off you the whole tour.

Felix didn't understand what was wrong with him, whether it was the excitement of the foreigner, the significant change of time zone, his pretty part of the assigned staff, or the incredible urge to have sex. He wasn't normally like that… well, at least not in places like these. He left the dirty thoughts for later when he was in the quiet of solitude. But just now he had those thoughts of how hot it must be to be fucking someone while wearing that perfectly tailored suit, making a mess among all the tidiness that went with it all.

He wasn't like that… but the more he thought about it, the more he was tempted, he thought it would be the only time he would see you, that you had to be professional and not at all indiscreet, that it would only be one night. He was becoming more and more convinced, what was wrong with him? He was handsome, young, successful and very well endowed, he only needed to show his gifts to someone. Felix thought if that someone could be you; this was not Felix who thinks dating and love were important, suddenly something came over him, like a haughty alter ego blinded by his dazzling fame, ready to just have sex.

The main event started, the dinner and the show, you had gotten a table, only confirmed by the exclusively selected staff in perhaps, one of the worst areas, still you were in, from going to see the Met outside on the street, to being seated next to a bunch of celebrities in the same room; you were so happy you could die the next day thinking you made it.

But once the show was over, little by little so was your spark, it was time to go back to your reality and take a cab home; the folks at that table were mentioning something about an after party, among them and a bunch more… but you didn't want the smell of celebrities and fame to leave your pores and get lost in some stranger's apartment.

You were about to check out when a short woman rushes up to you asking if there was any Stray Kids staff at the table.

“Here, me!” you showed her your ID quizzically. “What's going on?”

“What are you doing here? They're escorting you to the after party.”

Puzzled, you mumbled a “what?” and followed her hurried pace as she was leaving.

“After party, with who?”

The woman stopped in her tracks and turned to look at you.

“Well, who are you working for.”

Impossible, you thought. You were supposed to check out and you weren't allowed to go outside the museum, they couldn't just invite you like that, could they? Why would they? Besides you were working for the museum, not for them. Sadly, you had to make it clear to them.

You walked towards them who were already at the main exit leaving with other celebrities, you got up the courage and approached them.

“Nice to meet you guys, but I think it was a misunderstanding, I can't accompany you, I work for the museum… they didn't give me directions to follow you.”

“And what time do you leave?” Chan asked you with a hoarse voice and eyes fixed on you.

“Just now…” you added awkwardly, not knowing what to say as the eight men stared at you.

“Perfect” Chan said in a thick accent with a smile.

“Now you work for us, let's go to the after party” spoke in a cold, distant and arrogant tone the pretty blond boy who had caught your attention.

You had not heard him speak, not until now. You were too surprised by the contrast of his angelic face and his incredibly thick voice.

You were able to register your exit and hurriedly kept up with the boys.

“We liked the way you explained the exhibition, we will have you as translator now” Chan told you as he quickened his pace leaving you behind.

It didn't make the slightest sense what he just said. You don't even speak Korean.

You sighed and could not deny the excitement of living another adventure, it was not like they were forcing you, you were now going to go to the legendary Met Gala after party.

You got into a dark van along with more of their staff and in the minutes of traffic you were finally there. You couldn't believe it, for a moment you stopped thinking that things made sense.

Luckily you were not alone, but accompanied by another girl in the staff, all looked great but it was evident that no one wanted to socialize with you and it was difficult for you to do so; so you felt uncomfortable and out of place, questioning if you should really be there.

After a few minutes you noticed that Felix stood up from his seat, taking the button of his suit and slyly approached you.

“Can you come with me?” he whispered in your ear with his deep voice.

You froze, and followed him without thinking too much, something wasn't right when it came to him…. besides, you thought you had to follow his instructions.

Felix went to a private bathroom, you wanted to think that maybe he wanted you to take care of his coat… if not, why else would he ask you to accompany him; he entered quickly, in a suspicious way and then came out quickly looking around frantically, until he pulled you by the arm and took you with him to that small elegant bathroom, locking the door. You couldn't process the speed of the actions and suddenly, you saw his piercing gaze in front of yours.

What was going on?

Felix had enough, watching you flirtatiously talking to Chan, sweet talking all his friends, there was nothing else to explain but that he was horny and wanted to have you right now. You weren't stupid, you noticed his looks but wanted to ignore them, but it turns out that wasn't what he wanted.

So there you were, inwardly struggling whether to play along with whatever he intended to do or put your ethics above… you analyzed him, he looked so good with his long hair and white suit, you'd probably never see him again, you wanted to bite your lip just thinking about how dangerous and fast-paced some kind of sex like that would be, on the sly. But you couldn't make up your mind, this was about Conde Nast, your dream, not easy access to fuck.

Felix noticed too the early darkness in your gaze, reflecting lust, he was already hard from just thinking about your ass slapping his pelvis as he thrust his cock in and out your pussy mercilessly. You so wet, making a mess, the two of you indulging in passion while a bunch of people decide to party outside.

“I don't normally do this but… I may only see you once in my life…”

Felix said in a voice thicker than what you had heard and came dangerously close to you, who were glued to the door, perplexed.

“Felix…” you wanted to think clearly but his full lips in a perfect heart shape were distracting you.

“If you want to fuck me… you have to promise me to never tell anyone.”

Felix whispered plaintiff in your left ear, losing himself in the scent of you hair. You couldn't take it anymore, if he kept talking, you might cum at any moment.

You understood the situation of things and the importance of his comment, after all he was still a global superstar. But not telling would not only be a beautiful secret to take to your grave and something fun to remember, but it would also be beneficial for you, because under no circumstances should a female employee have sex with her assigned celebrity. You would be banned from all of Manhattan or the city if possible, public enemy number one.

He moved closer to your ear, thinly brushing his lips on it and making you lose control little by little by his approach. You closed your eyes, completely lost, fuck it, you would fuck him and never see him again, at least not this intimacy.

“Why would I fuck and tell...?” you whispered completely lost in desire.

He chuckled, and finally grabbed you by the waist. Felix sought your lips and you kissed slowly, deeply and passionately, the kiss was so strong that you felt the pressure of his upturned nose on your face. You knew it was so wrong at any angle analyzed… but it felt so right, his lips were soft and he moved them with agility, your hands were still glued to the wall in surprise, but gradually you relaxed and managed to hold on to the ends of his jacket.

Felix also relaxed and his right hand moved down to your naked back and slowly and nimbly he moved his hand in until he squeezed and caressed your ass, his actions surprised you that you almost moaned at the touch, separating you a little from the kiss.

He pulled a few inches away from your lips and, as he ran his hand all around your ass, he looked you over with a look of superiority.

“You're such a slut, only wearing a fucking thong, almost like you were ready for me” he said with a husky voice.

This time you felt his noticeable bulge brush against your belly and his soft touch made you wetter and wetter.

“Get on your knees, beautiful.”

He ordered and you obeyed. Felix was sick of feeling horny, he wanted a quick fix, to strip the tight garments off his cock and be attended to urgently, once he had enough of his own, he was going to take over pleasuring you fully.

Your breath was getting shorter and shorter and you felt his member on the fabric, you thought about how good he looked from below and in all possible angles, then you pulled down his pants, ready to give him the best blowjob ever —or at least you hoped so—, you couldn't resist, you simply pulled down his underwear too, finding his throbbing and delicious cock so needy, its tip was bright pink and poor Felix was already showing signs of small droplets of pre-seminal fluid, and to think he had a fine and angelic face…. You had never felt so hungry and desirous, you were totally possessed; you wanted it in your hands, in your mouth, pounding your face, pounding your cervix… so you felt it, that firm hard manly hunk, at the mercy of your hands, feeling every texture of his skin.

Felix gasped, lifting his buttoned shirt a little, revealing a bit of his smooth but working abdomen. You took some of his fluid and spread it all over his length, lubricating it, it felt so good, but you were also so needy and desperate, and the thin fabric covering your intimate area didn't help at all, you felt the garment getting smaller and smaller, you felt your wet pussy growing and throbbing causing a delicious friction; but you thought you had to be more careful, your whole outfit was black, one stain of semen or fluids and you had to pay for the dress.

You moved a little away from him, hoping that no droplets of him fell on your attire, still you held his erection tightly with your left hand, making frantic movements, back and forth.

He was ecstatic, it was all he needed, to be sexually attended to; the New York air suited Felix Lee wonderfully, and the New York girl… he thought… she was out of this world, her hands felt fantastic on his hard manhood. He wanted to cum roughly, but he wanted to do it dirty in his employee's mouth and pretty face… he would never act like the beastly thing he was doing in Seoul, but new place, try new things.

So between sighs and gasps, he lowered his gaze and tried to communicate with her.

“Use your pretty mouth.”

You never thought he was going to ask, you didn't hesitate for a second, and the grotesque sound of your saliva dripping on his cock were heavenly; his sex was hot and smooth, the texture felt so good inside your cheeks but once again, you are desperate for him to take you and start moving your guts.

Within minutes, Felix cum in your mouth amid moans and groans, and the softest but most effective hair pulls, to make you go exquisitely deeper. You never thought he was so vocal, with a voice like that, you were in heaven; and it took you only a few seconds to drink his cum, as a reward.

“I think we need to get rid of that dress” he said trying to catch his breath. “I'll buy you 3 more, no worries.”

He took you by the chin, inviting you to stand up and helped you take off the dress, you were so excited that your vision was blurred and you couldn't think clearly… what was his next move….

You were amazed at how incredibly hard and standing still he was even after he had just cum, you thought, after all kpop idols did have it all, great stage presence, big penis, music talent, and for sex too.

He sat you on the small counter, him facing the mirror, the stone was cold and you were finally, almost, completely naked in front of him, wearing only your thin thong. Felix wasted no time and positioned himself between your legs, kissing you deeply and desperately as you carefully felt the tip of his penis brush your wet center each time they came closer, he moved his kisses down, to your neck, massaged your breasts and kissed and sucked them mercilessly, you wanted to scream with excitement but you were acutely aware that there were people outside, never mind the noise of the party. Once on your chest, he turned his angelic face up, with a dark mischievous look and that's when you felt his thumb caress your clit.

You moaned in relief, finally your exhausted pussy was going to be given attention. His movements were slow until each time he increased the acceleration, you couldn't help but writhe in pleasure and when your body contracted ready to climax, Felix introduced his fingers inside you, he felt the softness of your insides so lubricated and ready to feel his erection beating you frantically.

“Look at me” he asked once he saw that your attention was focused for a few seconds on his right hand playing with your pussy.

“Uh-mm” you murmured, nodding softly, almost in moans.

You weren't thinking clearly but decided to hold back the urge to cum just to feel his fingers inside you for a few more moments. You looked into his big dark eyes; you felt that he looked more calm and serious with that gaze locked on you and his innocent freckled look, unlike you that your eyes was totally submissive and you were almost about to cry with pleasure, oh and Felix loved that, all that mess because of him.

“I'm going to cum, Fe…” you moaned.

But you couldn't even speak, he accelerated his movements and your belly contracted so pleasantly bringing you to your first orgasm.

“I'm not done yet; let me clean up that mess you made.”

And without warning, Felix leaned down, gripping your thighs tightly, two of his fingers still freshly wet from my fluids, marked on your thigh; Felix ran his hot tongue across your cunt, licking all your cum.

He began to eat your pussy carefully, almost accomplishing step by step and you loved the delicacy of what he was doing, you were seeing stars, you didn't want this to ever end, you wanted him on you all the time. You took advantage and also took hold of his tightly tied hair. He did it so well that you had to cum a second time.

And finally, the act you both had been waiting for since he locked the door; Felix had saved the urge and was once again swollen and throbbing, screaming for attention and action. He cleaned the edges of his mouth in a attractive manner.

“Shit, I don't have a condom” he said in annoyance.

“It's okay, I'd never have your baby anyway.”

Felix smiled and you watched his erection in front of your pussy, until he gently pushed it in, until you closed your eyes once again in pleasure.

“I'm going to cum inside you and make sure your pussy misses every part of me.”

Felix whispered hotly in your right ear as you pressed your bodies closer and closer together, until you ended up with your legs wrapped around his waist, crushing bit of his outfit, and your hands on his shoulders. And then, he rammed you fast and as delicious as no one else had ever done, you moaned softly to avoid any strange noises from outside. It was incredible, you thought, his rhythm was strong and constant and when you began to lubricate his penis more indicating your soon orgasm, Felix separated from you and in quick movements he changed your position, lowered you from the counter, turned your body and introduced his penis making you stand still and making you both see yourselves in the mirror.

You couldn't be happier, you loved the fiction of his shirts stuck to your body of the clothes he still had on, and he began to pound more frantically and wildly, giving way to the sound of your skins colliding and your fluids combining. Felix held you tightly by the waist as he pulled your body away and closer, controlling it in his own way, you wanted to help him, moving your ass a little but his grip was too strong. You were with your back arched, holding tightly to the sink, giving choked moans as you felt his strong thrusts. Watching him fuck you in the mirror was fucking hot, he looked so attractive with his half-open mouth letting out soft moans and his concentrated countenance, frowning and his eyes locked on your ass, then on you.

Felix grabbed your hair in his fist and pulled it to pull you closer to him and glued you to his body, just when you thought it couldn't get any better, his thrusts were deeper that way and you were touching the edge.

“Do you like the way I fuck you, little slut, huh?”

You tried to nod between gripping your hair.

“Say it.”

“Yes-yes, Felix, ahh it feels good.”

“You feel good too, sweetheart, you're doing a great job.”

His dirty talk close to your ear were just more elements to make you cum faster and faster and each time you were more and more surprised, as his pace increased, finally making you climax, for the third time.

Felix smiled in victory as he felt your pussy muscles first tighten and then relax releasing more of your luscious fluids, wetting and hugging his hard cock, Felix continued another small moment, until he cum gloriously inside you and a little more above your ass.

You were perplexed. The sexual connection had been real. You both tried to catch your breath, he helped you put your dress back on and as you changed, Felix felt a little bad about just using you for his carnal desires, for you honestly it had been just a good fuck and you had your feet on the ground being aware that someone like him and you could never be together.

“So… Are you officially working on something related for Vogue?”

You smiled, as you tried to touch up your makeup, it was a bit badly retouched.

“No, it's my dream, they just hired me as a one-off for this year.”

“Maybe you should learn Korean and move there, Vogue Korea is still Vogue, isn't it?” he mentioned flirtatiously.

You chuckled again, that implied many things and at the same time none for you.

“Go out first, y/n, then I'll go out. I'll transfer you for the dresses outside, I don't even have my phone here” he said, finally in his deep voice calmer, almost looking tender, in his thick accent.

You smiled and looked at him one last time, before finally leaving for the party. Leaving you wanting more, but also with nothing more than just sex in the city.

[fearlessreid]

concept of the day

lowkey wanna make this a fic

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

eddie and reader were high school sweethearts, attached at the hip and grossly in love.

when they are 19, corroded coffin gets noticed and eddie leaves reader for a life of partying, drugs and girls.

to cope with the heartbreak reader starts songwriting and becomes like a taylor swift level famous singer (readers songs will most likely be taylor songs)

so we have reader who’s a pop princess and eddie who’s essentially a tommy lee. they eventually run into each other at some event and both their pr managers can sense the tension and chemistry.

their managers arrange them to pr date for their careers despite eddie being a now known playboy and reader hating eddies guts.

through the fake dating, old feelings arise and eddie may realize what he could have had.

exes to lovers, enemies to lovers, fake dating, forced proximity the whole shebang.

[penmansparadise]

Tommy Shelby ~ Dust in the Wind

*I DON'T OWN THIS GIF* *CREDIT TO GIF OWNER*

*I do not give anyone permission to repost my work in any way (translations included)*

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: Discusses infant loss/stillborn, ANGST, mild language, possibly ooc Tommy

a/n: Alright, well, it has been quite some time since I've posted on this site. First, let me get a few things out. 1) This is the most self-indulgent piece I have ever written, so if you don't want to read it, please just keep on scrolling. 2) This does not mean that I am ready to start taking requests again or that I will be regularly writing again. As stated before, this is a very self-indulgent piece because I just experienced the loss of my daughter, who was born prematurely. It has completely wrecked me, and I have just finally decided to start writing again. I am trying to navigate my loss and thought maybe writing would help. It did, and although this piece is a little darker than I usually write, it was therapeutic, and I wanted to share it because I am proud of my work. I did write it as a reader insert, but if you all read it and think it would be better as an OC story, I'll change it. Anyway, this is the first time I've ever written for Tommy, so please forgive the potential out-of-character actions he has in this story. Also, it has been a bit since I watched season 3 so forgive any mistakes. I took some liberties with the story by adding different children for Tommy and Y/N and some of the things that happened in the show. Well, I hope you enjoy this story, and would really like to know what you all think.

§

Y/N was no stranger to death.  It was Small Heath, for goodness’ sake.  Death practically ran in the water.  Being deeply entrenched in the Shelby family since she was a young girl only made her acquaintance with death’s steely grip all that much closer.  She had been to more than enough funerals in her 29 years of living.  She was present at the cemetery when her father finally drank himself into his grave, she was there to mourn when consumption took her mother, and she showed up to support Ada when they buried Freddie.  Y/N was always there when any of the Peaky boys were killed in the line of action, and she even showed up for her elderly childhood neighbor’s funeral.  But this time, it was different.  She wasn’t gathered in the woods on the outskirts of Small Heath to mourn for someone else.  There wasn’t a stranger tucked away in the wagon standing in front of her.  The Shelbys weren’t gathered to bid farewell to a distant relative or friend.  The Lees weren’t generously providing this funeral for a price.  No, the whole Shelby and Lee families were there for her and Tommy this time.

            The heat from the flames washed over Y/N’s face, making her sweat a little, but she didn’t move.  She wanted to be as close as she could possibly be.  If she had it her way, she would have jumped into the wagon and let the flames swallow her whole, but Tommy’s hand tightly gripping hers anchored her to the ground.  It had only been a few days.  It couldn’t have been more than four, but with how time was moving, it felt like a lifetime had passed.  The flames roared on, and Tommy squeezed her hand a little tighter, causing Y/N’s throat to tighten.  She swallowed down the sadness trying to claw its way out of her.  Y/N wasn’t going to break down in front of all these people.  She didn’t want to cry at all, for that matter.  It felt like it had been an endless stream of tears, and Y/N was done.  If only her aching heart would catch the memo.  Y/N’s eyes traveled the length of the flames until they landed on the little plaque one of the Lee boys carved for the wagon.  “Lily Eleanora Shelby,” it read, and suddenly, the sadness returned with a vengeance.  Y/N shut her eyes, and the events that led to this day played in her head.  She was supposed to be happy.  She was supposed to be full of unadulterated joy.  She was supposed to be cradling her newborn baby girl.  But she wasn’t.  Instead, she held onto her husband’s hand like a lifeline as she watched her daughter’s wagon burn.  One day.  That’s all it took to completely destroy her.

            Even as she stood there, watching the flames devour her daughter’s wagon, she still recounted everything she did four days ago, trying to figure out what could have possibly led to this result.  Four days ago, she was a cheery 29-week pregnant woman.  A stay-at-home mom who, with the help of their maid Frances, cared for her and Tommy’s three-year-old son, Benjamin.  That day had started like any other.  Tommy was already out, and she could hear Frances chasing Ben around his room.  The little boy’s giggles echoed through the house, and she remembers smiling as she slid a hand over her round tummy.  Y/N couldn’t wait for Ben to be a big brother.  She got ready like any other day and eventually made her way to her son, who welcomed her presence with a hug and a kiss.  The little boy rubbed her tummy, planted a chaste kiss to her navel, and smiled at her. 

            “I just wanted to let my little brother or sister know that I love them too, Mommy,” he had said, causing Y/N’s heart to clench.  Even at three, he was a charmer, just like his father.  She knelt to be at eye level with her son and lifted her hand to cradle his face.

            “You’re going to be a wonderful big brother; do you know that?”

            “Of course I will be, Mommy.  I’ve been practicing sharing my toys with Frances and making sure I listen real good to you and daddy.”  He said, standing up straighter to exhibit his full height.  “Frances says I need to be a good example for the new baby, or else Santa won’t bring me any presents this year for Christmas.  How outrageous is that, Mommy!?”

            Y/N stifled a laugh before brushing Ben’s hair back and looking up to see Frances smirking from her spot by Ben’s block tower. 

“I’m sure Santa won’t forget about you this year, honey.”  She told her son.  The boy gave her a toothy grin before trotting off to continue playing with his blocks. 

Y/N returned to her feet and watched Ben for another minute before retreating to the new nursery.  It was already put together, and she often found herself hiding away in that room.  She glided her hand over the bassinet and let the soft fabric tickle her palm.  The walls were already decorated with paintings of horses, some of which came from Ben, who insisted that his younger sibling have them.  She sat on the rocking chair and gently rubbed her hands over her stomach, earning a little kick from her unborn child.  A soft laugh fell from her lips as she looked down at her growing bump.

“Sorry to disturb you, love.”  She whispered, her hands still rubbing slow circles.  “Mommy just wanted to let you know she loves you very much.  And so does your big brother, who is very excited to meet you.”

Another kick came.

“You’re excited to meet him, too?  I’ll have to let him know.”

“Daddy loves you too, just in case Mommy forgot to mention that.”  Tommy’s voice came from the doorway, causing Y/N to look up.  He gave her a full smile, the one he reserved only for her and their son, and it fell over her like a warm blanket.

“Mommy was just about to get there.  Had daddy not interrupted her,” she said.  Tommy hummed in response as he floated across the room to kneel before her.  He looked up at Y/N through his lashes and said, “Sure you were,” before removing her hands and planting a soft kiss where they had just lay.

“Daddy can’t wait to meet you,” he whispered against her stomach, his warm breath radiating throughout her body.  Tommy looked up at Y/N before standing and pressing his lips to hers.  When he pulled away, a smile matching his spread across her face.  She was beaming.  She had dreamt of being in this position for many years as a teenager, and now it was real.  Thomas Shelby was hovering over her very pregnant figure in their unborn second child’s nursery.  Their lively three-year-old son’s muffled laughter ricocheted off the hallway walls.  It was everything she ever wanted, and she was so happy.

“What’s that look for?”  Tommy asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Nothing,” she hummed, gaining a skeptical eyebrow raise from her husband.  “I just love you.  That’s all.”

Tommy nestled his face into the crook of her neck, peppering kisses along the exposed skin.  Then he pulled back, looked into her eye, and said, “I love you more than you know, Y/N.”

He gave her one more swift kiss before standing and sauntering out of the room with a smirk.  The rest of the day went by like any day usually went.  She sat around and read, played with Ben, ate lunch at 1100, put Ben down for a nap at 1230, and then went back to reading.  Tommy was in and out, balancing work from home and the office.  She could tell that day was extra tiring from how he sighed every time he left the house.  It was after Tommy left for the last time of the day that Y/N got the idea to wander down to the kitchen.  When she entered, the cooks were hard at work peeling and slicing vegetables.

“Good evening, Mrs. Shelby,” the head chef began, “is there anything we can do for you, ma’am?”

Y/N clasped her hands behind her back as she rocked back and forth on her heels like a guilty toddler.  “Um,” she said, “actually, yes, there is.”  She stepped into the kitchen and moved her hands to rest on her stomach.  “I was thinking that maybe tonight you and the rest of the staff could take the evening off and allow me to cook dinner.”

The head chef’s eyes widened at her statement.  Everyone else stilled for a brief moment, waiting for him to speak.  “Oh,” he stammered, “b-but, Mrs. Shelby, and please forgive me if I am overstepping, but shouldn’t you be resting instead of cooking?”  His eyes dipped down to her protruding abdomen before landing back on her face. 

“Resting?  I rest all day.  Really,” Y/N said, waving the chef’s comment off, “it would be nothing.  I actually miss being in the kitchen.  It’ll be nice.  Therapeutic.”  She couldn’t miss the wide-eyed stares from everyone in the room, but she chose to ignore them.  When they didn’t move to leave, she stepped forward, placed a gentle hand on the head chef’s back, and began leading him out of the kitchen. 

“Trust me,” she said, “I’ll be fine.  Thank you for your concern, though.”

Once she ushered the staff out, she began working on dinner.  It had been a long time since she cooked, but it came back to her like riding a bicycle.  She couldn’t escape the excitement that bubbled inside of her as she fell into a groove preparing dinner for her family again.  She boiled the potatoes the staff had peeled, sauteed the peppers and onions, and braised the beef that was in the refrigerator.  About an hour into cooking, a dull pain emanated from her lower back and into her hips.  The dull pain slowly morphed into a pressure that she just assumed was normal 29-week pregnancy symptoms.  It’s just the baby getting comfortable.  The baby is just moving around and pressing a little harder than usual on my cervix.  She ignored the feelings and finished cooking before asking the kitchen staff for help to bring the meal into the dining room.  Once the table was set, Frances went and fetched her boys, alerting them that not only had Y/N cooked dinner, but she had also served it.  She greeted the boys in the doorway of the dining room and gave each a kiss before they all sat to eat.  That pain returned in her lower back and hips, making it hard to get comfortable in her seat.  She let out a low groan of discomfort, and Tommy placed his hand over hers to gain her attention.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his eyebrows knitted together.  She swallowed another groan that threatened to come out and nodded with a strained smile.  Y/N could tell that her weak answer did nothing to reassure Tommy, but he didn’t press her. 

“How do you like the meal?”  She asked, doing her best to not sound strained against the constant pressure she felt pulsing between her legs.

Before Tommy could answer, Ben nodded with enthusiasm and stuffed a heaping scoop of mashed potatoes into his mouth.  “I love it, Mommy!  This is the best dinner I’ve ever had,” he said through his mouthful of food. 

Y/N smiled, but it must have looked more like a grimace because this time, Tommy stood up and moved to her side.  “Y/N,” he said, placing his hands on her shoulders, “are you sure you’re okay?  Should I have Frances phone the doctor?” 

Y/N grabbed his hand and squeezed it as she looked up to her husband.  “I’m fine, darling.  I promise.  Let’s just finish dinner.”  She pulled his hand to her mouth and pressed a kiss to his knuckles.  Then, using her head, she motioned for Tommy to sit again.  He stared at her for another moment, the line on his forehead deepening, before sighing and retaking his seat.  She kept her discomfort under wraps for the remainder of dinner because Tommy didn’t mention anything until after they had put Ben down for the night and were about to crawl into bed.  The pressure and pain had only grown in that short time, and she was beginning to get nervous.  She was sitting on the edge of their bed, eyes shut, and taking some deep breaths when Tommy’s hands landed on her thighs.  She could feel him kneeling between her legs, but she didn’t open her eyes.  She didn’t want to admit that her anxiety was consuming her or that the pain and pressure had turned into abdominal cramps.  It wasn’t until she suddenly felt the bed beneath her sopping wet that she looked at Tommy.  He looked down and saw the fluid dripping from her nightgown and their duvet before his gaze landed on her.  She could see his mouth moving, but his voice was drowned out by her rapidly beating heart.  Something is wrong.  She thought.  This shouldn’t be happening.  I’m too early.  Tommy pushed away the hair that had begun sticking to her sweaty forehead, and then ran out of the room.  His voice was distant, but she could have sworn he said something about calling Polly and Ada.  She wasn’t sure because all she could focus on was the sharp pain that was puncturing her abdomen and the immense pressure building between her legs.  Before she could comprehend what was happening, Tommy scooped her up and lay her on their bed.  What about the sheets?  I’m going to ruin the bed. 

She must have said those thoughts aloud because Tommy quickly said, “Don’t worry about the bed, love.  We’ll get another one if we have to.”  The pain was only getting worse, and she had to shut her eyes and bite her tongue to prevent a groan from escaping.  She didn’t know how much time had passed before Polly and Ada came rushing into the room, shoving Tommy into the hallway.  When it was just the three of them, Y/N finally let out a guttural moan.  She didn’t remember this much pain when she gave birth to Ben.  Something is wrong.  Something is not right.  Those words chanted in her head like a mantra.  Polly set her up on her bed while Ada used a wet towel to wipe away the sweat beading on her face.

“Just breathe, Y/N,” Polly chirped soothingly in her ear. “Ada and I are here.  We’re going to take care of you.”

Anxiety coursed through her veins and unfurled in her gut when the pressure between her legs began to increase.  She tried to cross her legs and prevent the inevitable from happening, but Polly and Ada wouldn’t let her.  Tears of pain and fear streamed down her cheeks.  She wanted to scream at them to stop and let her try to stop this urge to push.  But the pain and pressure were too much, and the only sound that came out of her mouth was a low groan. 

She could feel Polly’s hand between her legs, and the words “crowning” and “push” floated to her ears.  Ada took her hand, and Y/N tried with every fiber in her body to not push, but her body had other plans.  She held her breath and begged her body to stop forcing her baby out of her, but it was too late.  The pressure was building.  Climbing to a peak that felt like it would rip her in half until suddenly, she felt relief.  Her heavy breathing filled the room, and she waited impatiently for the tell-tale cries of her baby, but they never came.  She opened her eyes and looked at Polly and then at Ada.  They both just stared back at her, and Y/N knew something wasn’t right. 

“Y/N,” was all Polly whispered, and she knew.  The silence was deafening.  She lay there, completely exposed, bleeding, and sweaty, and waited, but her baby gave her nothing.  Her eyes shut and then, without any strength to stop it, let out a crushing wail.  The tears overflowed, and when she opened her eyes again, she watched the door burst open and Tommy storm in.  He moved over to where Polly held their baby and looked down at their motionless child.

“Why isn’t she crying?”  He asked. 

It was a girl.  I had a baby girl.  Even through her tears and sobs, she could see Tommy’s chest rising and falling at a rapid pace.

“Why isn’t she fucking crying, Pol!?”  Tommy’s voice boomed through the room and mixed with her loud cries to create the saddest song.  She could see the distress in the slant of his shoulders and how he ran a hurried hand through his cropped hair.  He didn’t wait for anyone to answer his question before bounding across the room and landing on the floor next to her.  His hands found hers, and she could feel them shaking.  His lips pressed to Y/N’s forehead and cheeks, absorbing only some of the tears that continued to cascade down her face. 

“It’s okay,” he whispered, but the way his voice cracked in her ear told her he didn’t even believe those words.  “I love you, Y/N.”  She could hear that his words dripped with the same despair she felt.  “You know that, ey?  I love you, and it’s going to be okay.”

Tommy’s words echoed in her head as she watched the fire blaze around her daughter’s wagon.  She wanted to be convinced that his words were true, but she couldn’t bring herself to believe them.  When the funeral finished, they all returned to Arrow House, where the wake was being held.  Even being in a crowded room surrounded by family, Y/N felt alone.  Her whole body was like radio static – unfeeling.  Tommy’s hand was on her lower back the entire time, but she still felt like she was floating away.  Nothing could tether her to this reality anymore.

Several people approached her and Tommy, and with every person, a new empty comment emerged. 

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” which loosely translates to, “Boy, that sucks to be you.”

“I can’t even imagine what you’re going through,” which means, “I’m really glad I’m not dealing with that!”

And, “At least you still have Ben,” equates to, “You shouldn’t be upset when you still have one kid alive.”

With every consolation tossed at her feet like the change she used to find on the ground when she was a child, this unknown sensation began to build in her chest.  It was heavy and wild, like an untamed animal.  It was red and bared its teeth, ready to bite.  It was something Y/N had never felt before.  She was usually understanding, calm, and collected.  She wasn’t hot-headed or easily provoked.  But now, she was quickly discovering that what she was feeling was rage.  Hot and stormy, it ravaged her insides, and instead of beating it back into its cage, Y/N leaned into it, letting it hold her battered and broken soul up.

After the wake, Y/N let her sadness swallow her.  She hid in one of the guest rooms daily and even went as far as to avoid Tommy.  She couldn’t bring herself to look at him because every time their eyes met, two things happened.  1) she could see the grief he was carrying like cinder blocks chained to his neck, and 2) she could see the way he looked at her like she was a broken piece of artwork now.  She knew she was a shell of the woman she once was, but it hurt her even more to know that Tommy saw it so plainly in her, too.  He didn’t see her as the strong, independent woman he fell in love with.  No, now she was a ghost of her former self, and she couldn’t take his pity for having lost their daughter and herself. 

Although clearly grieving, Tommy didn’t seem nearly as phased by their loss as Y/N.  He was able to jump back into work, and now, nearly a week since the wake, he was back to being fully invested.  If Y/N were being honest, she envied Tommy for being able to distract himself.  She couldn’t do anything but hide from the memories that haunted their home and do her best to still be a good mother to Ben.  When a week finally passed since laying her daughter to rest, Y/N knew she had to do something.  She would talk to Polly and beg for some sort of work.  She didn’t care that Polly insisted that Y/N take some “time to heal.”  She needed a distraction.  Being in Arrow House felt more like a prison than a home.

Y/N got dressed and began to head for the door after handing Ben over to Frances.  But, as she approached Tommy’s office, she could hear him talking.  She peeked through the tiny crack to discover John and Arthur sitting at Tommy’s desk. 

“Ada’s handling the Communists.  She’s got someone on the inside who’s giving us information,” Tommy stated.  “And,” he shuffled papers around on his desk, “I’m…dealing with Father Hughes.”

“And what about the horny princess?” John asked, leaning forward and adjusting his jacket.  “You gonna figure out where her family keeps the jewels?”

Tommy waved him off.  “I already know.”  That single statement had both his brothers and Y/N leaning forward just slightly.  Tommy lay a large blueprint on his desk, causing the brothers to stand.

“They keep their entire collection in this strong room.  There’s no way to get in from above without a key,” Tommy stated, flattening the paper and looking up at his brothers. 

“So, what’s your plan, brother?”  Arthur asked like a good soldier.  Tommy straightened slightly, and Y/N could tell he was a little uncomfortable.  He pulled a cigarette from his case and slid it across his bottom lip before lighting it and taking a drag. 

“We’ve gotta tunnel in,” Tommy said without hesitation.  Those four words landed on the Shelby men like a grenade, and Y/N could almost feel the atmosphere shift at the statement.  None of them moved.  It was evident that the idea of tunneling hadn’t been a thought in any of their minds since the war.  Tommy cleared his throat. 

“I know,” he began, “but there’s no other way.  I’ve already got Johnny Dogs ready to help.  He’ll set up camp where we’ll start the tunnel.”

The air was thick, and again, neither of the brothers spoke.  She knew they didn’t like the plan, but they would comply because Tommy was giving the orders.  Y/N watched as John and Arthur fiddled with their suit jackets, their anxious energy hitting her like a baseball bat to the face.  It wasn’t until Arthur blew out a puff of air and ran his hand through his messy hair, exposing his apprehension, that Y/N knew what she would do.  Without even a second thought, Y/N opened the door to Tommy’s office, and all three men turned to face her.  She was only adding insult to injury as the silence in the room became even heavier.  Neither of her brothers-in-law had seen her since the wake, and the uneasy energy was almost palpable.  Tommy stepped toward her but didn’t get too close, which Y/N could see his brothers noticed.

“Y/N, is everything alright, love?”

Her eyes flitted between all three of the Shelby men for a moment before finally landing back on Tommy.  She knew she probably looked like a deer in headlights.  Her stare was frazzled, and she knew she looked a bit harried.  But she still squared her shoulders and stated with the most conviction she could muster, “Let me help.”

All three men’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, but only one spoke. 

“Excuse me?”  Tommy asked, incredulity lacing each word.  There was no going back now.  Y/N had to double down on her commitment.  So, she waved her hand toward the blueprints on Tommy’s desk. 

“With the tunnel.”

Tommy’s eyes turned a shade darker, and Y/N could see his jaw tick.  She only glanced at John and Arthur for a second, and they both looked like they might choke on the thickness of the air.  She felt like she might, too, but she held her ground.  She was not a fragile porcelain doll and could help her husband like she used to.  Tommy coughed, then turned to his brothers and, in a calm voice, asked, “Would you mind giving me a moment with my wife, boys?”

Neither of the brothers wasted a second before hustling out into the hallway.  Once the door shut behind them, Tommy’s steely gaze landed back on Y/N.  Before, she would have felt a little nervous under Tommy’s intense glare.  She had never inserted herself into his shoddy business in the past.  But now, she didn’t care.  She needed a distraction and a way to prove that she was still a force to be reckoned with even after her loss.  Y/N could see Tommy trying to contain his anger as his nostrils flared and his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides.  His eyes shut for a brief moment as he took a deep inhale.

“Are you fucking insane, Y/N?”  He finally asked, his voice level.  Y/N’s mouth fell open, and she reared back just slightly.  But before she could say anything, Tommy continued.

“You’ve been avoiding me, your husband, for a week in our own home, and when you decide to finally speak to me, that is what you say?”

Y/N rolled her eyes.  “Tommy.”

“No, Y/N!”  He shouted, causing her to startle.  “You can’t just move past this!”

That statement made Y/N see red.  In the week since Lily’s passing, Tommy did precisely that.  Y/N’s spine straightened, and her whole body became rigid.

“Why not!?” she shouted back, stomping toward Tommy.  “Is that not what you did?  Pretend like we didn’t lose our daughter?  You threw yourself into your work.  Why can’t I do the same thing?”  Her chest was heaving, and as badly as she didn’t want them to, she could feel tears pricking at her eyes.  She hated that she was a frustrated crier.  Her fists were in tight balls at her sides, and every muscle in her body was flexed.  She was ready for a fight.  She was prepared for Tommy to yell back at her.  In fact, she wanted him to yell at her.  She wanted Tommy to tell her how stupid her idea was and that she was out of her mind.  She mentally begged Tommy to scream at her for barging in on his meeting with his brothers and even thinking about tunneling.  Y/N wanted to feel the passion he usually had toward her before they lost their baby.  She needed him to reassure her that she was not a lost cause he was housing but his fierce wife.  But he didn’t yell.  The fire in his eyes dimmed, and his features softened.  The pity eyes were back, and she was struck by the sadness she was trying to escape.  She shut her eyes in a lame attempt to avoid looking at her husband and keep her tears at bay, but it was futile.  The tiny droplets fell down her cheeks, and when she opened her eyes again, Tommy was right in front of her.  He lifted his hands to cradle her face, and she hated how she melted into his touch.  It had been a week since she even looked at Tommy, let alone touched him.  She couldn’t lie, she missed him.  But it was easier to hide from the pain and suffering they both shared than deal with it head-on. 

Y/N let out a shaky breath and looked into her husband’s eyes. 

“Why can’t I, Tommy?” She asked, barely above a whisper.  “Let me help you.  Please.”

Tommy’s thumb stroked her cheeks, wiping away a stray tear.  He cataloged her features, and for the first time in a very long time, she wished she could see into Tommy’s thoughts.  She stared at him and hoped that everything she wanted to say was conveyed in her eyes.  I’m no longer the same woman I was a week ago.  I’m a failure as a woman and a mother.  I’m alone, letting my thoughts eat me alive.  I’m scared you won’t love this broken woman I have become.  Her eyes pleaded for Tommy to let her prove that she could still be the same person as before.  She needed to prove to him and herself that she wasn’t hopeless.  But when Tommy shut his eyes and let out a sigh, she knew his answer before he even said it. 

He looked at Y/N and said sotto voce, “You know I can’t, love.”

Y/N’s body went rigid, and that new familiar sensation began to bubble in her gut.  She could feel it rumbling and swirling, mixing with her fear and sadness, creating an uncontrollable fury.  It burned like venom, but she found herself welcoming the sting.  Her once soft features hardened, and Tommy noticed the change immediately.  Her stare was blank, and the joy that used to fill it had vanished.  Before losing her daughter, she never understood why the war had changed Tommy.  She supported him while his experiences ravaged him, but she never knew why he returned with a harder exterior than when he left.  But now, after suffering such a devastating loss, she understood.  There is no coming back from witnessing a tragedy. 

Tommy’s rough thumbs brushed against Y/N’s tear-stained cheeks and bent until his forehead rested on hers.  “Where did the woman I married three years ago disappear to?”  He said, his breath fanning over her face.  He pulled back, his distressed stare locking Y/N in place, and whispered, “I know she’s in there.”

The words stung like a slap to her already bruised ego.  She could feel the weight of that question in every bone of her body.  All her fears began raging a war inside her head, and she could feel her armor cracking.  She could feel the tears clogging her throat, burning as she swallowed them down.  Her lungs felt like they weren’t getting nearly enough oxygen, and she was only seconds away from either crying or breaking something.  With a swift step backward, Y/N separated herself from her husband.  She hated to admit that her body yearned for Tommy’s hands back on her, but she batted that thought away as quickly as it appeared.  Tommy slowly lowered his hands back to his sides, and she leveled him with a callous stare.

“That woman is gone, Tommy,” she spat.  “She burned to ash with her daughter a week ago.”  She could see the way her words landed on Tommy like bullets striking his chest.  Some of her felt bad, but the angry beast slowly becoming her new persona convinced her she did nothing wrong. 

Y/N waited for Tommy to say something, anything, back to her, and when he didn’t, she turned and reached for the door.  Confidence that felt different from what she was used to coursed through her body like electricity.  She was a little scared of who she was becoming, but those wild and fiery feelings of rage were the only things that brought her peace.  Before pulling the door open, she turned back toward Tommy and said, “If you won’t let me help you, Tommy, I’ll find someone else who will.  You forget, my roots run deep in this business, too.”

Tommy let out a dry laugh.  “You’re really threatening me, now, ey?”

Y/N’s grip tightened around the cold door handle, and, through gritted teeth, she growled, “It’s not a threat, Thomas.  It’s a promise.”  Without a second look, she flung the door open and stepped out. 

John and Arthur straightened at her abrupt appearance, and she just brushed past them, letting her feet carry her toward the front of their home.  She knew they heard her and Tommy’s conversation, but she didn’t care anymore.  This newfound boldness that her bereavement had granted her washed away any and all anxiety.   

“Hope you enjoyed the show, boys,” Y/N tossed over her shoulder toward John and Arthur.  “Next time, I’ll sell tickets and make talking to my husband more worthwhile rather than a waste of my time.”

She didn’t turn back around to see their reaction to her words.  Instead, she showed herself out and hopped into one of Tommy’s many vehicles.  She would find another way if he wouldn’t allow her to help.  The image of a tall Jewish man whom she briefly met a while back when Tommy first started expanding into London entered her mind.  She knew exactly who would be more than willing to give her a hand in her effort to help the Shelby family – Alfie Solomons.

[librarycards]

hello everyone, and welcome to my Q3 book recs of 2024! this has been a *huge* book summer for me, not least because i've gotten to visit and chat with so many independent booksellers. after all, my debut novel, Failure to Comply (GR) (Storygraph), is now available for order, and I've been running around doing events and other publicity things to celebrate! While I'm obviously not going to recommend my own book in my top 9, if you enjoy experimental speculative fiction, Mad/trans cyborgs, and evil dykes + body horror, consider checking it out.

anyway! here are my favorites from this summer. it was, as always, a tough choice, but i hope you find something you like!

Gayl Jones, White Rat

Lee Mandelo, The Woods All Black

Michael Faber, Under the Skin

Randa Jarrar, A Map of Home

Jeanne Thornton, Summer Fun

Evan Dahm, The Last Delivery

Tommy Pico, IRL

Bhanu Kapil, The Vertical Integration of Strangers

Camila Sosa Vilada, tr. Kit Maude, Bad Girls

thanks, as always, for reading + enjoying these! i enjoy sharing them with you. if you want to see more regular recs from me for a variety of media, consider subscribing to my newsletter – I share short poetry/prose; audio; books; and more every month.

tagging people below, but no pressure to do it if you're tagged, and those not tagged are enthusiastically encouraged to do this + tag me in it (whether we're mutuals or not!!)

@campgender @capricornpropaganda @fluoresensitive @closet-keys @fatehbaz @lunarianbeams

@felgueirosa @materialisnt @osmanthusoolong @punkkwix @yesthattoo

@snoopyisbisexual @stephen-deadalus @metapianycist @podcastlesbian @metamatar

@lesbianlizzybennet @flameswallower @slowtides @sawasawako @growtiredofpublicvulnerability

@abstractlesbian @grimesapologist @aldieb @bioethicists @heavenlyyshecomes @trans-axolotl & anyone else who wants to!!

[dadbodbuck]

fuck it chat i'm swinging the bat at the hornet's nest

911 characters and their political leanings*

* these are personal headcanons don't bite me unless it's sexy

bobby has been a registered democrat since the 90s. he believes in voting in every election, and since 2020 has made sure everyone in the station is registered to vote and votes not just for presidentials but also state, local, and school district elections (before 2020 he was too in his "i can't get attached this isn't a family this is a means to an end" feelings). he is very careful about not pressuring his subordinates into voting one way or the other, and believes in the power of impartiality and subjectivity.

athena is THE establishment democrat to me. she's pro-gay, pro-cop, law and order but ETHICALLY, please! she loooooves nancy pelosi.

may grant is a member of her college's YDSA. this is going to be the thing that makes athena go gray.

maddie is a white suburban democrat. this is entirely based on her vibes

i'm so sorry. buck is apolitical. he never feels like he knows enough on a topic to form an opinion. he asks bobby who to vote for in elections. he is an ally who thinks putting a rainbow emoji on his instagram is effective allyship.

i'm even more sorry. eddie diaz is socially liberal fiscally conservative. he thought he was a raging liberal when he was living in texas because he didn't hate gay people. he hasn't quite unpacked us imperialism yet.

chris (disabled, latino, at least two dads) is cooking a WICKED leftist philosophy tho and when he does eddie and buck will be forever changed. insert whitney chewston mama let's learn meme

hen and karen are both progressive democrats, karen being a little further left than hen. they're especially interested in lgbt+ rights, racial equality, and healthcare access. they frequently go to community events!

chim is full socdem. his bio dad was conservative (fuck him), and the lees were probably some flavor of center left. chim took after the lees until he read the socialist manifesto while he was trying to get his business degree (he dropped out but kept the book) and then he reread it every time gerrard pissed him off. hen and karen do have to drag him to events because he's an introvert however. (yes this one is wishful thinking. this is howard chimney han to ME)

tommy kinard: not enough data. likely some flavor of "reformed right of center" liberal, maybe even leftist?

gerrard: most normal trump voter

ravi: libertarian :/

[enam3l]

rockstar eddie munson fuckin hates tommy lee

read all rockstar eddie munson stories at lore at #enam3ls rockstar eddie

Before Dave Grohl, Eddie Munson was known as the nicest guy in rock n roll. He approached his career the same way as Alice Cooper did, he was a fairly normal dude who just happens to be a metal god although unlike Alice, Eddie didn't wear a costume - he just looked like that always.

Do you know what Eddie thought was fuckin metal? Having a wife he loved more than anything, a supportive group of friends and things he enjoyed doing that weren't snorting lines off groupies tits like the industry expected him to.

He'd ran into Motley Crue a few times. Corroded Coffin were often seated near them at award shows and various events. The first time they crossed paths was at Corroded Coffin's first ever awards show, their debut album had been nominated. Tommy Lee had sauntered past you and Eddie, looking your fiancé up and down like he was dirt and then proceeding to hit on you with a sleazy comment. That night you both agreed 'Man, Tommy Lee fuckin sucks.'

By the mid-nighties, you, Eddie and rest of Corroded Coffin and their significant others avoided crossing paths with Motley Crue. Finding their behaviour tedious and their antics pretty gross. When you'd seen on a magazine that Tommy Lee had now swept Pamela Anderson off her feet, Eddie noticed your concern. You'd both met her before and thought she was sweet. You knew Eddie had a crush on her from Baywatch and through a mutual friend you'd managed to get her to sign a poster for Eddie. He was mortified but definitely didn't mind you wearing the swimsuit to make up for teasing him.

When the sex tape came out you were both horrified for her. Disgusted by the way she was treated and scared that the same could easily happen to you and Eddie. Whilst minding his business on a day out with your young daughter, Eddie was approached by a paparazzi asking if he'd watch Pamela and Tommy's tape. Eddie's reply was asking the photographer if he was ashamed of himself, swiftly followed by a punch in the jaw. Later that day as you bailed him out, Eddie apologised profusely for losing his cool but he was repulsed at how people were treating a woman for just being with her husband, repulsed at the idea that maybe they could speak about you like that and mostly, repulsed they'd mention it in front of your little girl. You didn't care he'd done it, you'd never been prouder.

Now once Tommy Lee had assaulted Pamela that was it, he was dead to Eddie. You'd also been expecting your second baby together when it happened. The thought that a man could even think about physically harming his wife (pregnant or not), never mind actually doing it and risking his baby's life, knocked Eddie sick. The next concert Corroded Coffin had, Eddie came on stage in a tee reading 'TOMMY LEE FUCKIN SUCKS.' A bouquet of flowers was sent to Pamela along with a gift for her new baby.

By the time Corroded Coffin's third studio album came out in 1999, Eddie had made no secret about his views on toxic behaviour in the rock scene, never afraid to use Tommy as reference. The new album's cover art was a black and white photograph of you, dressed like a pin up vampire stood over an open coffin. Now, no one ever confirmed anything but fans couldn't help but notice how the body in the coffin remarkably resembled one Mr Tommy Lee.

rockstar eddie munson is my ride or die! feel free to request anything (it doesn't have to be rockstar ed)

[runnning-outof-time]

There’s Something About These Grounds… | Tommy Shelby x Mrs Shelby & Reader

Request: no - written for @zablife ‘s 2k celebration and @little-diable ‘s 15k celebration

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Mrs Shelby & Reader

Summary: Mrs Shelby takes a walk and stumbles upon a dark secret that is hidden on the grounds of Arrow House. She's given a warning about the future of her family, a warning that makes her new husband wonder if she should even leave the house at all.

Warnings: language, drinking, smoking, paranormal themes, implications of past and future miscarriages (nothing in detail), implications of suicide (nothing in detail)

Word Count: 3317

A/N: I…I’m not 100% sure what this is, but hey, I finished it - I think we’ll call it my best attempt at writing something that’s the complete opposite of fluff haha. I’ve given Mrs Shelby a name…she’s an OC but reader is also present here. Enjoy! :)

A/N 2: Lee and Chi - congratulations on your amazing milestones!! I’m so thankful that you’re both part of this amazing community…I can’t imagine it without you! Thanks also to Chi for allowing me to play around with the prompt - it’s bolded/italcized in the story…I hope I still got the gist of it!

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message Me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

The landscape got darker and more overgrown with each step Mrs Shelby took. She wondered why she'd decided to take a walk away from the manor that she resided in. At one point, she even considered abandoning her original idea and turning back to the house. But then she reasoned that anything would be better than being cooped up inside those dark walls for yet another day.

Her marriage to the man who owned the very estate she was walking on, Thomas Shelby, can only be described as a whirlwind. No one in either of their families knew of it happening until after the license was signed and they had taken a trip to Paris. What had bright promises at first now felt like the beginning of a prison sentence for the young woman.

It was Tommy's family that insisted they have the party that was taking place today. The bride was weary about it - she was never one to jump into the spotlight during social events, but Tommy's methods of convincing made it hard to say 'no'. He assured her that she'd be in control; that when she'd say that she'd reached her limit, the party would be over. It eased her worries when she agreed to it, but now that the day of the party was here, she was feeling uneasy once again.

So, in hopes to quell her building nerves, Mrs Shelby decided that she would escape the house and take a walk on its expansive grounds.

The landscape seemed to turn a darker shade of green the further she walked away from the manor, but she reasoned that the worry of being amongst some overgrown trees was affecting her much less than the worry of what would be happening later this evening.

She continued walking until she came upon a pond. The small body of water was surrounded by trees and shrubbery, and the fog that hung low over it added an eerie vibe to the atmosphere. As Mrs Shelby got closer to the pond, she noticed a woman standing in the middle of it.

"Hello?!" she called out, confusing quickly filling her as she walked closer to the water’s edge with caution. "Excuse me," she spoke again when the woman didn't respond or even turn to face her.

From her short distance away, she could see that this lady looked almost white, as if she'd been submerged in the cold water for too long and had lost all color. Her hair was wet and flat on her head, sticking to the skin of her shoulders that could be seen above the water.

Mrs Shelby felt a chill run through her body as she stayed focused on the mysterious woman, who still hadn't moved despite the other making her presence very known. "This is private property, you know," Mrs Shelby tried another direction, hoping that her voice held the authority that was needed to finally make the lady face her. But her words did nothing.

Frustration seeped into her bones as she willed herself to move even closer to the pond's edge. Maybe she didn't hear me, she reasoned as she prepared to call out again. But just as she opened her mouth, the woman completely submerged herself under the water, leaving not a trace of her behind. This made Mrs Shelby frantic. She looked everywhere - even kneeling down on the muddy ground and straining her eyes to see if she could spot her underwater - wondering how the lady could disappear from sight just like that.

The sudden voice that came from behind her made her jump.

"These woods are no one's property, darling." It had to be the woman who was in the water. Mrs Shelby was hesitant to turn and face the person, but when she did, she found the woman, who had disappeared just moments ago, standing beside her. She noticed that she was no longer wet, and was wearing a worn, white slip, something that was too cold to be wearing on a dark, autumn day. "They belong to nature."

"My husband would say differently," Mrs Shelby tried to stay calm, standing up and jutting her chin upwards slightly in hopes it would add to her act of confidence. She didn't want this woman to know that she was actually shaking in her shoes.

"Your husband does not know what he stands for," the woman was quick to say.

"Who-who are you and why are you here?" Mrs Shelby decided to ask, her voice faltering only slightly.

"My name is (Y/N)," the woman responded, "this is my home."

The second part of her statement made Mrs Shelby scoff slightly. "Impossible. My husband and I own these grounds. They've been in his hands for four years now," she spoke in a refuting tone.

"Don't be silly, Eloise. These grounds have changed hands many times," the strange woman countered, uttering a laugh of her own at the face that Mrs Shelby pulled when her name was said.

"How do you know my name?"

"I know things," (Y/N) spoke frankly. "I know things about you, about your husband. I know why your marriage occurred in the manner it did...it's not for the reason you keep telling yourself."

"I don't know what you mean..." Mrs Shelby wasn't sure if she actually wanted clarification.

"Tommy was lonely. He couldn't cope with himself, with his business and its demands. The whores weren't doing it for him anymore, and even though I told him that he could keep coming to see me, it wasn't enough for him. He needed someone who would be by his side constantly. Someone who could appease him physically. It's unclear to me why he chose you...since it seems you'd rather be away from him then by his side." (Y/N) ended her explanation by looking the other woman over, an unimpressed look present on her face.

"He and I love each other," Mrs Shelby tried to be indignant, but she didn't quite believe the declaration herself.

"That's what you try so hard to believe," (Y/N) snorted at the thought.

Mrs Shelby felt slighted by these words. She hastily tried to muster up the ability to take back the conversation, since it was clearly falling into (Y/N)'s hands. "We do. We've spoken of starting a family, of completing our home...a little brother or sister for Charlie." (Y/N) only laughed at what was said. Mrs Shelby scoffed at her reaction. "How dare you react in that way! This is not a laughable matter," she insisted, glaring at the grinning woman.

"You are so naïve to believe that it'll be that simple; that your wishes will be granted," (Y/N) stated, shaking her head. Silly woman, she thought.

"I don't see why they wouldn't be," Mrs Shelby furrowed her eyebrows at the other woman's cryptic statement.

"You've not lived here long enough to know what'll happen...to know what fate befalls every woman that sets foot on this property."

"What are you saying?"

"It's the land, Eloise. It's cursed. It took my babies, and it'll take yours too," (Y/N) words had an ominous tone to them, making Mrs Shelby shiver as she heard them. Nothing could have prepared her for what would come out of the other woman's mouth next: "it kept me here to make sure of it."

A mortified look formed on Mrs Shelby's face while a smirk formed on (Y/N)'s. The former of the two stayed frozen in her spot as the latter slowly retreated back into the trees that surrounded the eerie pond.

Even if Mrs Shelby wanted to, she couldn't ask the strange woman what her ominous message meant because (Y/N) had slipped completely out of sight. She'd practically vanished into thin air.

The conversation left Mrs Shelby reeling; questioning if any of it was even real. She tried blinking her eyes several times, wondering if doing so would do the trick of waking her up. Yes...maybe this is all just a twisted dream. But it wasn't. She was still standing out in the middle of the forest, the fog-covered pond still in front of her; the bottom of her dress still covered in the mud of the bank she kneeled on. So many questions were swirling through her mind as she grappled with what was real and what could possibly be made up.

She knew two things for certain: one, she couldn't stay out here a second longer, and two: she needed to speak to Tommy about this immediately.

Mrs Shelby was completely out of breath when she reached the doors to Arrow House. She rushed inside, squeezing herself through the people who were working hasilty to make sure finishing touches were in place before the party started. She gave them no thought as she frantically looked for her husband, moving so quickly through the crowd that she hadn't noticed he was in front of her until his hands were grabbing hold of her shoulders.

"Where're you running to, love?" Tommy asked, his brows furrowed as he took in the sight of his distraught wife. He watched closely as she took several breaths to calm herself down, and he placed pressure on her collarbones with his thumbs, hoping that it would aid the process.

"Tommy, I...I went out t-to walk and followed the, the path down to the trees, and then I walked further in and I just kept walking until I reached a p-pond, and I, I, I uh I didn't...I didn't..."

"Hey, slow down, Eloise," Tommy cut off his wife's frantic rambles with a steady voice, "catch your breath first before you talk again," he suggested, seeing her nod before he brought his hands from her shoulders up to her cheeks. He caressed them softly as he let his eyes drift over her body. "What's happened, eh? Why is your dress muddy?" he asked, his brows furrowing together again.

"I was telling you, I...I found a pond. And there was a woman in it."

"A woman?" Tommy was taken back by the information.

"Yes. She, she was in the water when I first saw her, but then she came to me and she, she...Tommy, we need to leave. We need to leave here, now," her voice might have been shaky, but she still said the final word with the dire emotion it needed.

"Why would we do that, darling?" he needed to ask, now full of confusion.

"We have to leave here if we want to have the family we talk about. We can't have a baby here, Tommy," the fear filling her body was present in her words.

"You're confusing me, Eloise," he bluntly said, hoping she'd get to the point of her worries and stop dancing around the problem.

"To keep them alive, Tommy," she spoke with a sense of urgency, "there's something in the woods...a woman...she said that she's going to take our babies."

Tommy took a few moments to let what was just said sink in. The cogs in his mind were now turning at the second mention of this woman. He knew now that it was no mistake made by his frantic wife. She must've encountered (Y/N). Just the thought of that happening made his blood run cold. He needed to think of a way to deflect this; to make her believe that this was nothing to be worried about. "I think you might have been outside for too long, love. Why don't you go upstairs and change for the party, eh?" he suggested, his eyebrows raised, showing that even though he'd asked a question, his suggestion wasn't actually up for debate.

"But I didn't...I know it wasn't..."

"Go on, love," he cut her off as she fumbled for the words, nodding his head towards the stairs. "Everyone's almost here."

Mrs Shelby bit on her lip as she fought to keep everything inside. It felt like she was on the brink of a breakdown, and Tommy surely had to see that. Why was he trying to diminish the situation? Didn't he care to know more of why she was reacting the way she was? Did he even want the family they had talked about? All of these questions were bouncing around Mrs Shelby's mind as her husband looked expectantly at her. There was no way that she could bring the conversation back now. It was over.

So she nodded her head ever-so slightly, silently agreeing with what he wanted her to do. That was all Tommy needed from her. He dropped his hold from her, leaning in to press a quick kiss to her lips before he mumbled 'good' and left her side. Mrs Shelby stood there for a moment, still overwhelmed from everything that had happened. But there was only one thing she could do now: get ready for the party and hope for the best.

"Fuck," Tommy breathed as he paced the floor of his office. He brought the glass of whiskey up to his lips and drank the rest of it, setting the glass down just as the door to the room opened.

"Frances said you needed me," the voice of his sister called out before she walked in from behind the door.

"Yes, come in," Tommy answered, waving his hand to her even though she'd already entered the room, "shut the door," he said then, fishing the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.

"What's going on?" Ada decided to get right to the point. She was never one for beating around the bush, especially when her brother was so clearly being affected by something.

"Eloise just returned from a walk. She managed to find the pond," Tommy started, running his hand along the back of his head as he looked to the ground with a huff. His statement may have been vague, but Ada knew exactly what he was getting at.

"Oh, Tommy," she sighed in dismay. She watched her brother then, now seeing the stress and worry that was so clearly etched into his features.

"She told me she met the woman and that she talked to her," he gave more detail, sitting down on the couch with a sigh. "I don't know what I'm going to do to cover this up," he added, bringing the cigarette to his lips to take a long drag.

Ada stood in her spot, her arms crossed as she observed her brother. It didn't take much to notice that he’d already given this problem all of his attention. He may have seemed composed on the outside, but she knew that his mind was working on overdrive. "Maybe it's time you forgot about her," she offered a suggestion a few moments later.

"Forgot about who?" Tommy asked, not even bothering to raise his head from the couch's back.

"(Y/N)," Ada didn't hesitate in saying the woman's name. Hearing it made Tommy's head snap up so that he could look at his sister. He almost looked surprised at the fact that she'd dare say that name. "You have Eloise now. There's no longer a need to visit her anymore."

"She knows too much," he countered.

"Who?" Ada asked for specifics.

"(Y/N). She knows too much. Of me, of this land, of fucking everything. I don't want Eloise speaking to her anymore."

"What're you going to do then, forbid Eloise from leaving the house?" Her question was meant to be a joke, but it was one that made the lightbulb above her brother's head go off. She noticed it in the way Tommy moved, standing from the couch and stalking out of the room, on a new mission. "Fuck," she breathed with a sigh, knowing that his mind that been set and there'd be no changing it.

Ada wondered why Tommy cared so much about this woman; this person who was no longer living and breathing, yet was still chained to this world. He had told her about (Y/N) in depth: about how she lived a very unhappy life, how she'd gotten to the point where she had nothing left, how she went to that very pond and walked into it knowing that she wouldn't be coming back out.

What Ada didn't realize was that Tommy felt like he was connected to (Y/N); like she was the only person who understood everything he'd been through. Tragedy understood tragedy, and both (Y/N) and Tommy's lives had been filled with it.

So would Tommy really insert more control over his loving wife’s life just because she’d stumbled upon a spirit lurking on the grounds of their estate? That question may not be so easily answered.

Despite the events of the day, the party went smoothly. Tommy, while still having to play host alongside Eloise, managed to speak to his wife about the adventure she'd taken earlier. He convinced her that they wouldn't be moving, and even though she didn't quite understand his reasoning, she agreed to never again walk past the gates of Arrow House's garden; thereby relinquishing her ability to leave the immediate property.

Eloise was able to fall asleep the second her head hit the pillow, exhausted from everything that had happened. Tommy was still wide awake late into the evening. He had one more thing he needed to do.

It didn't take him long to find the pond on the property, and it was no surprise that (Y/N) was waiting for him when he reached the water's edge. She waded towards him, a smile gracing her lips as she stopped in front of him. "I knew you'd come back," she said, speaking in that sweet voice that he'd come to find comfort in. But he couldn't let it calm him this time.

"You shouldn't have spoken to her," his words were abrupt, hoping that she'd get the point and they'd move on.

"I just had to let her know," (Y/N) didn't let it go; instead she explained her side. Her smile dropped into a pout as she tipped her head slightly, feigning innocence.

Her look didn’t faze him. "You'll not speak to her again.”

"I'm not sure I'll be able to help it if the option presents itself," her smile returned, and any trace of innocence was gone.

"It won't...she won't be coming down here anymore," Tommy stayed assertive, still not letting her switch faze him.

"So it'll just be you then?" (Y/N)'s eyebrows raised.

"It'll just be me. Forget you ever saw her," he finished off with one more succinct statement before turning to leave her. Even if he wanted to, he knew he couldn't stay out here tonight.

"She knows what'll happen," (Y/N)'s voice stopped him before he could leave. "She knows about the curse. Knows what'll happen if you try..." she trailed off, not even finishing her sentence because he already knew what she meant.

Silence hung in the air as he stared her down, watching for any subtle movements she could make. "Make it so it doesn't,” he said after a few beats, not waiting to turn and walk away from the pond without allowing her to have a chance to respond.

"I'll see you soon, Tommy," she called after him, smiling as she watched him walk away.

He knew that there was no way she could make things change, even if she wanted to. There was something about these grounds...something that was darker than anything he'd ever known. But he'd be lying if he said he wanted to leave them.

Eloise may not like it, but at the end of the day, she didn't have a choice. She'd stay locked inside of Arrow House so that Tommy could ensure that his two worlds wouldn't collide again.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @dlmlufics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @areyenotfondofmelobster @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

[mrs-stans]

Sebastian Stan’s Crash Course in Becoming Trump

After a long tour of duty in the Marvel universe, the Romanian-born actor is conquering the festival circuit, with starring roles in “The Apprentice” and “A Different Man.”

Illustration by João Fazenda

By Alex Barasch

The actor Sebastian Stan glanced approvingly at the neon signage and old-school menus at the Pearl Diner, in the financial district, the other day. He’s lived in and near New York since he was twelve—around the time Donald Trump swapped his first wife, Ivana, for Marla Maples—and has watched the city evolve. “It’s funny. It’s changed, but it’s also the same buildings,” he said. “And then you’re, like, ‘The buildings are there, but you are not the same.’ ”

Stan took off a white ball cap and ordered coffee with cream; he was jet-lagged, fresh from the Deauville American Film Festival, where he’d received the Hollywood Rising-Star Award. “Rising” is a stretch for the forty-two-year-old, who’s appeared in a dozen Marvel projects, but Stan has lately reached a different echelon. In May, he went to Cannes for “The Apprentice,” in which he plays seventies-era Trump. In Berlin, he’d won the Silver Bear, an award whose previous recipients include Denzel Washington and Paul Newman. “Everyone was, like, ‘Oh, the Silver Bear!’ ” Stan said. “Then you go back and you’re, like, ‘Do we know what the Silver Bear is in America?’ ”

The prize was for his role in “A Different Man,” Aaron Schimberg’s surreal black comedy, which nods to “Cyrano de Bergerac.” Stan stars as a man whose lifelong disfigurement is miraculously reversed; the shoot included a grisly three-and-a-half-hour session spent peeling off chunks of his face.

“The Apprentice” demanded a transformation of a different sort. At the diner, Stan pulled out his phone and swiped through an album labelled “DT physicality”—a hundred and thirty videos of Trump, which capture his tiniest gestures and his over-all mien. Marinating in Trump content was, Stan said cheerfully, “a psychotic experience.” He watched the clips so many times that when the director, Ali Abbasi, asked him to improvise in a scene about marketing Trump Tower, he could rattle off the stats: sixty-eight stories of marble in a peachy hue chosen by Ivana, because, as the real Trump put it in a promo, “people feel they look better in the pink.” (It turned out that he’d also memorized Trump’s lie: the tower is actually fifty-eight floors.)

Growing up in Communist Romania, Stan had just an hour of TV news each night; New Year’s Eve was an event because it meant twelve hours of programming. His instinct for mimicry—he had a habit of imitating family members and neighbors—was the earliest tell that he might be an actor. After he and his mother fled to Vienna, in 1989, Stan got his first credit, in a Michael Haneke film—an experience that nearly put him off show business. “I stood in line with, like, a thousand kids, for I don’t know how many hours—which I hated,” he said. “If I could fucking meet Haneke now, it would be amazing!”

When the family moved again, to America, he experienced pop-culture shock. He binged every movie he’d missed—from “Back to the Future” to “Ace Ventura”—in a pal’s basement. Another friend roped him into the school play. “My high school was really, really small, so I didn’t have a lot of competition,” Stan said. “They were, like, ‘Please be in the play!’ ” Soon he was playing Cyrano himself.

After stints on Broadway, and on “Gossip Girl,” Stan was scooped up by Marvel. “I’ve been lucky to play a character for fifteen years,” he said. The blockbuster paychecks freed him up to explore edgier material. “I, Tonya,” in which he played the ice-skater Tonya Harding’s dirtbag husband, was a turning point. “It allowed me to see that a good director will bring out more in you than you can,” Stan said. It was also his first time portraying a real person—a feat that he repeated in “Pam & Tommy,” as the Mötley Crüe drummer Tommy Lee, and now in “The Apprentice.”

“It’s like learning a piece of music,” Stan said, of nailing an impression. “You’ve got to start out slow—it requires practice. Suddenly, you’re getting it more. You’re still making mistakes—but you’re playing the music. You’re playing the music every day until you can do it in your sleep. That’s when the fun starts.” He sliced the air for emphasis, then caught himself and grinned. “And sometimes it’s months later at a diner, and you’re, like, ‘Why am I doing that with my hands?’ ”

[8ightisfate]

[250318]

© 𝐙𝐎𝐎:𝐌 | do not edit and/or crop logo

[skz-haven]

© TinyzooOO | Do not edit.

[zablife]

Tachipen (Part 6)

Part 5

Tommy x female reader

Summary: John reacts to the news of his betrothal and Y/n finally learns of his true feelings. Seeds of a rivalry are planted between the two brothers. In 1924, the jealous actions of their past come back to haunt them as the vendetta begins.

Author’s Note: Tommy meets y/n in 1919 and the story goes thru present time which is the year of the vendetta, 1925. I'm borrowing some events from canon S3 & S4 with a few changes and condensed storyline.

Warnings: language, violence, arranged marriage, mention of arson, kidnapping

1919

"You've done what?" John asked, blue eyes narrowing in the dim light of the parlor. Tommy only nodded in confirmation and John looked away in disbelief. "Christ, Tommy!" he exclaimed.

"It's the only way forward, John. You can end this war," Tommy stated, eyes darting to John's clenched fists. The anger beneath the surface was threatening to spill over as it always did when he was being told what to do. His younger brother abhorred his sense of authority.

"A war you fucking started when you brought Y/n here!" John shouted, the toothpick in his mouth wobbling precariously. Then he stopped short, staring ahead as he remembered your offer to talk to your aunt. "Is this why she took you to see Zilpha?" he asked, voice now eerily calm.

Tommy swallowed thickly, recognizing a look of hurt wash over his brother's face. It might have been a shift of smoke from the fireplace, but he swore he saw John's eyes turn glossy as he awaited an answer. "Tommy?" John insisted.

Tommy let out a frustrated sigh in response. "You didn’t ask for Y/n to come live with you. What's the difference if it’s another girl now?” he reasoned. 

John clenched his jaw as he turned his gaze toward his brother. "You have no idea what I want because you never ask. Did you ever think I might care for Y/n?"

"So much you were fucking Lizzie last week?" Tommy retorted.

John lunged toward Tommy and Tommy grabbed him by the shirt front, slamming him against the wall. 

On the other side, you jumped at the sound of the commotion, one hand coming to rest over your heart. The voices of the two warring brothers carried through the thin walls loud enough for you to hear in the kitchen and you stopped to listen despite your better judgment.

"What the fuck are you doing, eh? Do you love Y/n?" Tommy asked, searching his brother’s face for the truth as John pushed against him.

John gulped, fight leaving his body under Tommy's firm grasp. "I've loved her since she arrived, but Pol said to let her alone," he confessed, hanging his head when Tommy’s hand fell away from his throat. 

Tommy stepped back, tugging his shirt sleeves back into place as John staggered along the wall to stay upright. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Tommy sighed with exhaustion, knowing there could be no other outcome once a pact had been made.

He opened his eyes to find John leaning over the sofa, plucking one of your discarded hair ribbons from the cushion and clutching it in his hands so tightly his knuckles began turning white. He stared at Tommy with the desperation of a man who still held out hope, despite already knowing the verdict.

“Doesn’t matter now, it’s done. The Lees will hold us to it or there will be bloodshed,” Tommy warned as he approached his brother cautiously.

"It's what the Lees want or you, Tommy?" John asked, as he caught his brother gazing at your black, velvet ribbon.

"It's what Y/n wants. She made the deal with Zilpha, not me," he confessed in a low voice.

"She did?" John asked with a loud sniff, hand brushing his nose harshly as he tried to keep emotion at bay.

Tommy confirmed with a nod. 

John pitched forward, allowing his head to hang low and breathed deeply, the thought of your rejection stinging far worse than Tommy's betrayal ever could. After a few moments, he stood to his full height and addressing his older brother in the same flat tone he used during the war, he repeated back the orders given to him like a good soldier. "I'll marry Esme Lee."

"Good," Tommy agreed.

You held your breath as you listened to John leave the house, the door crashing against the frame forcefully as he went. A single tear slid down your cheek as you whispered, "I'm sorry, John. I love you too."

——————————————

On the morning of John’s wedding, you helped the children dress and you took special care with Katie, braiding her hair and intertwining wildflowers you’d picked together as an added adornment.

“All finished,” you proclaimed, attempting an encouraging smile as you turned her to face you. There hadn’t been many words exchanged, a tinge of sadness around the edges of the day where happiness ought to have been.

As you held her small shoulders, you felt an almost imperceptible shake, then you noticed her lashes dampen with tears threatening to overspill her deep blue eyes.

“Why do you have to go?”  she questioned, a few tears escaping as she furrowed her brow in a mixture of confusion and anger as if she might force you to stay by her will power alone.

“It’s time,” you answered simply, reaching up to dry her damp cheeks gently with your fingertips.

“Because you and dad have been fighting?” she asked, looking up at you with sorrowful eyes.

"Oh, Katie...," you exclaimed, inhaling sharply, knowing she had probably overheard more than she should have in recent days as you and John sniped at one another under the stress of making new arrangements and the dreadful ache of emotion left unspoken.

“Your father is remarrying so I have to go live with Aunt Polly and help your Uncle Tommy in the betting shop,” you began, but you knew she was a clever girl who would need a bit more than that.  “But you’re right, we haven't been getting on as well as we should. Things will be better with your new mum. You'll be happy, you'll see,” you promised her, reaching out to give her hand a reassuring squeeze. As an afterthought you added quietly, “I hope your dad will too.”

She threw her arms around you, hugging you tightly as though she’d never let go and you patted her back comfortingly. “I’ll be mad at him if you want me to,” she offered between sniffles, voice muffled by the thick material of your dress.

You laughed silently at her act of solidarity before answering, “I’m not mad anymore, just a bit sad like you, but I’ll be alright. Come on, we have to go or we’ll miss the ceremony.”

——————————-

The deafening crack of fireworks exploding overhead woke Henry who had been peacefully sleeping in your arms since the dancing began. Blinking in confusion and rubbing his eyes with chubby fists, the toddler immediately burst into sobs. You tried to quiet him with gentle rocking and his favorite lullaby, but nothing seemed to help.

No one paid much attention as the party was well under way and most everyone was too drunk to care about a crying babe. You scanned the crowd for Polly, hoping she would be ready to leave, but you couldn’t find her as you dodged whirling skirts and men shooting celebratory gunfire up to the sky.

Pressing your hands to Henry's ears, you sought peace and quiet away from everyone just as a soft voice called out to you. “Would you like me to take him?” You turned to find John’s new bride with her arms outstretched toward you and you nodded hesitantly. Feeling as though you couldn’t deny her, you passed the child to his new stepmother and much to your astonishment, he stopped crying long enough to capture her veil between his fingers, rubbing it against his cheek as she giggled. 

“Looks like John, don’t he?” she remarked, stroking Henry’s blonde curls. You nodded again, unsure what you should say to her. Did she know who you were? It seemed foolish to explain now if she didn’t. 

Before you could say anything more, Tommy strode toward you from the dark shadows between vardos, eyes fixed on you determinedly as though he’d been searching you out for some time. “Y/n, may I have a word?” he asked.

Seeing Henry babbling away happily to Esme, you crossed to join Tommy by a large bonfire.

“Enjoying the festivities?” he asked, fishing his cigarettes from his pocket.

“I was thinking of leaving actually,” you said, pulling your arms into your body as you realized how chilly the night air had become.

Noticing your shivering form, Tommy removed his jacket and placed it around your shoulders. As he came close, you breathed in the scent of tobacco and whisky, so like John, but with a tinge of something earthier as though he’d just come from the pasture. It was oddly comforting and you focused on the scent to calm yourself, feeling a rush of emotion return to you as you watched John approach his new bride and place his arm around her with Henry squealing in delight between them.

“I know why you proposed that particular strategy with your aunt,” Tommy said, interrupting your thoughts. He looked down at his cigarette before daring to find your eyes in the glow of the firelight.

You swallowed harshly thinking about where your fit of temper had landed you, watching the man you loved speak his vows to someone else. “Maybe it wasn’t the right thing,” you mused, your whispered regret carried away on the wind to Tommy’s ears like the closely guarded secret it was. 

He shook his head softly, “No, this was meant to be.”

Your turned to look at Tommy with trembling lower lip, but no words would come out. 

He stepped closer to you, rubbing his large palms up and down your arms soothingly. “Hey, look at me,” he instructed and your heart skipped a beat as you found the courage to look into the hypnotizing blue of his eyes, like a tide drawing you inward. “You did what was best for the family. I know you were angry at the time, but what you did took courage and sacrifice. I won’t forget that.”

“And John? Will he forgive me?” you asked, blinking back tears.

“He’s gained a good wife in Esme. I’ve no doubt he’ll thank you for it in time,” Tommy said, reassuringly. It seemed as though he wanted to add something, but stopped himself and you stood together for a moment in awkward silence before he dropped his hands to his sides and shoved them back into his pockets.

You dried your eyes and shifted the coat around your shoulders as Tommy led you to his car, offering a ride home. He said he didn’t want his newest employee wandering the streets of Birmingham alone in the early morning hours, but you had to wonder. His protection over you seemed like more than a formality. 

----------------

1924, The Grace Shelby Institute

"You alright?" you asked as Tommy guided you toward the room where tea and cake were being served after his speech.

"I fucking hate speeches," he muttered as you passed a group of ladies associated with his charity. "Grace was better at this sort of thing," he mused.

You nodded in understanding as he fidgeted with his tie nervously. You pressed a hand to his shoulder, stopping him before he entered the room. "Let me," you offered, shifting Charlie to your opposite hip and reaching up to straighten the silk knot to your satisfaction.

Tommy grasped your hand in his, searching your eyes for a moment before admitting, "I'm sorry about the other night. It won't happen again."

Feeling a heat rise in your cheeks, you bit your lip unsure of how to respond. His advances hadn't been unwelcome, but you wondered if it was merely the grief causing him to act.

"Don't be sorry," you said with a small shake of your head. Just then the door swung open and your eyes locked onto Linda, standing in the corner and surveying everyone with a judgmental stare. "It's just...what would your family say?" you asked, hesitantly.

Grasping your chin and turning you to look at him, Tommy stressed, "We haven't done anything wrong, eh?"

You nodded, wishing you could agree with his sentiment, but you knew no one would ever believe that. "Maybe it's too soon though," you suggested with soft eyes, hoping he would trust you in this.

Tommy studied you for a moment, unsure if you were in need of more reassurance or distance. There had always been a fine line in your relationship, your agreement with one another shifting over the years until he could no longer think of the right word to describe exactly what you were to him.

Rushing toward you with a giant smile on her face, Ada triumphantly proclaimed, "Tommy, there's a woman who wants to discuss a two hundred pound donation with you."

"Go ahead, I'll entertain Charlie," you assured him.

However, the task grew more difficult as the afternoon wore on. The child was growing more restless by the minute as ladies gathered to coo at him and pinch his cheeks adoringly, taking turns to express their condolences or offer praise for Tommy's parenting.

When it was clear that Charlie needed a nap, you excused yourself and weaved through the dense crowd in search of Finn who was supposed to drive you home. Struggling to hold an ill-tempered Charlie, you suffered his kicks and jabs as he refused to be contained within your embrace. Finally, he pushed against you with the strength of ten children, suddenly sliding down your body and hurrying off on chubby little legs before you could grasp him. He toddled away precariously in between people’s legs as you rushed after him, calling his name.

“Charlie, come back!” you cried, but he only squealed excitedly at your game of chase and ran faster. With no other family members in sight, you hurried after him on your own, wishing you'd chosen more sensible shoes.

As you rounded the corner toward the empty offices, you heard his tiny shoes squeaking against the polished floor and heard his giggles as a door opened suddenly. Perhaps he was finding a place to hide to try and continue this little game, you thought, but that particular activity would have to wait. You were determined to get him home.

“Please, Charlie!” you called a bit more softly, hoping he would peek his head out and come running back to you upon hearing your distress.

“Sound so sweet when you beg,” a low voice rumbled behind you. The imposing figure removed his fedora and you gasped when you recognized one of Angel’s men, Enzo, looking down at you in amusement.

Your heel wobbled under you as you tried to back away from him and you stumbled in your hurried attempted to regain balance. “What do you want? Did Angel send you?“ you gulped, trying and failing to conceal your fear.

Your reply only infuriated the man. He captured your arms in a painfully tight grip, pulling you into his large frame, before leaning down to hiss in your ear, “Angel’s dead, you fucking puttana. You ought to know, you started all of this.”

You felt your mouth go dry and your hands began to shake as you thought back to the night John set Angel's restaurant ablaze. There had been no peace with the Italians since, only an escalation of violence. In the wake of Grace's death you should have known the Shelbys would retaliate and now, according to the tradition of the vendetta, they would pay dearly in return. It was in this moment that you remembered Charlie and prayed he was hiding himself well as Enzo slowly dragged you toward the exit.

To your horror the empty hallway soon filled with the sounds of a screaming child and the sight of a second man holding Charlie’s wriggling body in his arms.

You thrashed wildly against Enzo to reach the boy as you pleaded, “Take me and let him go. Please, he’s just a child. Don’t hurt him!”

Unwilling to hear any more, Enzo silenced you by placing his large hand over your mouth and nose. You continued to struggle until you could no longer breathe, the room spinning around you and black spots dancing across your vision before you gave into the darkness.

---------------

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[straykidsclothes]

•Bang Chan, I.N, Han Jisung y Lee Know at Incheon International Airport heading to the U.S for the Tommy Hilfiger Event !

•May 03 2024 [240503]