#modern!Tommy

[moral-terpitude]

Manic Monday

Did I need to start something new? No. Did I? Yes. Will there be more? Surely. At some point. (I get super annoyed by the manic Monday song when it comes on the radio, but it was the only good follow up I could think of to Quiet Sunday.) (Cause I liked this modern Shelby family bunches, but I feel like their life wouldn’t be without chaos after such a good day.)

[Masterlist]

Word Count: 1282

“Tom.” Your whisper was the only noise in the darkness, but a few minutes ago you’d been pulled from sleep by a commotion down stairs.

How Tommy hadn’t been woken up by the noise coming from somewhere off in the house was a mystery. You were usually the heavy sleeper, but Charlie was still off galavanting with Finn.

Hadn’t answered the phone. Hadn’t messaged.

Which meant you had spent most of the night staring at the ceiling before sleep finally took over.

You sighed, shaking him again, words coming out in a quick hiss, “Tommy, wake up.”

He took a deep breath as he turned to face you, blue eyes reading the worried expression on your face quickly, even in the lack of light.

“What’s going on, love?”

“Just something loud downstairs.”

He was out of bed in an instant, gun drawn from the bedside table and out the door before you could say much else.

You lay there for a few minutes before you heard a scuffle. Peeking out the bedroom door you saw quite the sight.

Charlie and Finn seemed equally pissed, wobbling as Tommy tried to support Charlie with help (or lack of) from his brother.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Finn!”

You pulled the robe around you tighter, a light jog over to take his place, bare feet padding across the wooden floor, to actually assist your husband.

Finn looked away, leaning against the bannister as the three of you made your way down the hall to Charlie’s room.

His blonde hair fell in his face as he tried to avoid Tommy’s gaze, sitting on the bed with his head in his hands.

“Feel like shit already, eh?”

“Dad,” Charlie groaned, that being the last you heard out of him before you made your way back to the landing.

“Downstairs.” You passed by him, not bothering to wait to make sure he listened, he knew better than to not follow, “Now.”

He grumbled, but followed behind you, knowing he was in for a good reaming.

“I can’t believe you,” he took the stairs two at a time to keep up with you as you stood in the entryway, fishing the pack of Marlboro lights out of your coat pocket, “it would be different if it was the first time, Finn—“

“C’mon, Y/N, he’s not a kid anymore—“

“Yes, Finn, he is!” You lit the cigarette, glancing up at the full moon and taking a long drag before toeing open the front door, “I know that your life, and the things you’ve all seen, was a lot different growing up, but he is fifteen!”

He looked away, slumping against the wall with a huff, arms crossed.

“Charlie is a good kid!”

“Finn!” Tommy’s voice bellowed down the stairs, preceding his presence (now dressed in more than just his underwear), and interrupted your tirade before you could continue.

You stayed in the door frame, blowing the smoke outside as Tommy rounded the corner. Anger taking the form of heat rising in your neck as you tried to take a deep breath and calm yourself.

“Was he into the fucking coke?”

Finn started to shake his head, glancing sideways at you before looking back at Tommy. “I don’t know,” he shrugged, words still a bit slurred, “I went off for a little bit. I think he’s just tanked.”

Tommy locked eyes with you, and unfortunately you mimicked Finn’s shrug as he huffed his way back up the stairs.

“He is a good kid,” you continued, discarding the cigarette but out into the gravel drive and lighting another before glancing up at the clock, hands pointed at 3:45, and running a hand through your hair, “and he has set himself up on a good path in school, his extracurriculars are all in order, and not that we need it but he is looking at one hell of a scholarship if he can keep his grades where they are. I know it’s summer,” you sighed, “but I can’t keep having you bring my boy—“

He scoffed, “That’s part of the fucking problem, Y/N! He’s a Shelby! He’s not your boy!”

His voice came out in a roar that immediately had you taken aback, heart trembling and sinking into your stomach before you caught his gaze.

Blinking twice, you took a deep, shuddering, breath, “Go the fuck upstairs and go to bed, Finn.”

“Y/N—“

“No. Don’t you dare try to fucking apologize to me now.”

Tears stung in the corner of your eyes as you brushed past him, smoke rolling along with you as you made your way through the hall and down into the kitchen.

The coffee maker hissed to life as you leaned on your elbows in front of it, swiping tears from under your eyes every 30 seconds or so.

He’s not your boy.

The words rang in your ears painfully as you heard approaching footsteps.

“Staying up?”

You sighed, turning and leaning against the counter, eyes roaming the white tiles all up the walls as you continued viscously chewing the inside of your lip and Tommy assed your state.

You had thought about finding the bag of crisps when you went down there, but by the time the words actually sank in, you realized nothing sounded good anymore.

“Yeah, I figured,” you sniffled, turning away to pull two cups out of the cupboards, “I have a lot to catch up on, I need to find vendors and source donations for that benefit, the women’s shelter—“

“Love, what happened?”

Your shoulders relaxed as he wrapped his arms around your waist, featherlight kisses pressed into the crook of your neck.

Sometimes you hated that he knew what made you tick.

A long sigh passed between your lips, weighing your words before you spoke.

“Hm?” He prodded, rocking you both back and forth as you shrugged.

“Just another reminder of—“ that I’m not able to hold a candle to your dead wife? No, there was no good that was going to come from the rest of that sentence. Instead, you shook your head, stopping the sentence, pouring coffee in both of the cups, “I know I’m not Charlie’s mother—“

“Who said?”

“Tommy,” you shrugged him off of you, turning to face him, safe and close in the space between him and the counter, “I just, for once, wish what goes on in our household could stay in our little bubble.”

He tried to search your face for the answer to his question as you relinquished one of the mugs to him. You knew you probably weren’t making sense.

“Finn, reminded me, when I was giving him hell, that Charlie isn’t my boy.” You nodded.

“He’s just pissed out of his mind, hurling his guts into the bowl in the hall bathroom right now.”

“Like that’s an excuse.” You shot back, heading to leave the kitchen as he reached for you again.

“No,” you shook your head, picking the still burning cigarette off the tea saucer you’d grabbed from the sink, “you’re not going to manage to fuck your way out of that one. I know I’m not a Shelby by blood, but god damn Tommy, you always manage to explain away their shit and I’m getting sick of it.”

You shook your head, letting the cigarette hang from your mouth like he would usually do while he worked.

“We even had a good day today, too.”

You heard the whispered “fuck” as you meandered your way through the house, slamming the heavy wooden door to your office behind you.

The only person you felt bad that it might have woken woken up was Frances. Bless her.

She needed a raise for putting up with all of you.

[notyour-valentine]

Hello Val! I’d love to send you a request for your 1000 celebration (congrats again! 🥂)

I’d like to go with a blurb for modern!Tommy and the following prompt: “It is a common phenomenon that just the prettiest girls find it so difficult to get a man.”

Thanks ❤️

The Prettiest Girls ~ modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader (Fluff)

[Celebration] [Celebration Masterlist] [Masterlist]

Warning: Mention of sexism in society, patriarchy, some swearing (18/21+). I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Words: 1480 words

“Oi!”, she snapped as Tommy reached for the packet of still warm falafels and pulled them towards him without even sparing her a glance. 

“Those are mine!”, she hissed, snatching them right back.  For that, she had to get up and lean all over the polished black chrome table.

His head shot up and he glared at her with nothing but annoyance and impatience - as if she had insulted him.

“Seriously?”, he hissed, “You drink and eat here for free, the least you can do is give some of me own fucking food!”

“It’s not your food!”, Ada reminded him. “Its from that new vegan place around the corner.”

“We’ve got vegan food!”, Arthur argued, always quick to defend his establishment. “Chips and sweet potato chips and salad, I think?”

“If I eat nothing but chips all the time, I will break out worse than a freshers flu!”, she argued, dipping another one of her deliciously crispy fried falafels into the hummus. 

This was becoming a weekly thing, actually it was becoming almost normalcy. Ever since the Shelbys had moved into London too, it was more than convenient for her and Ada to spend their evenings here. Groceries was expensive and here they could practically drink them dry and even if they ordered food more to their taste, they could put it on Arthur’s tab. 

He didn’t mind in the slightest, not when it came to his sister and their childhood friend. 

Usually it was actually quite fun, with John in town too and Tommy actually having time to join them for a change, or so they had thought. 

But instead of a few rounds and some fun stories for old times sake, he was sitting in the corner of the private room, hacking away at his phone with such ferocity, she could have sworn he must’ve drilled holes into it by now. 

Always busy. Always occupied. 

As if that wasn’t enough, he cleared his throat and swiped. 

“Yes?”, he demanded to know, bringing his phone to his ear. “Is he for real now?”, Ada demanded to know as Tommy began to have a full on conversation with no regard to them and their talk. 

“Oi, at least put it on speaker!”, she offered with a chuckle. 

He threw daggers at her and got up, but on his way out, he swiped the bag with the remaining four falafels from the table. 

“Hey!”, she argued, but the door only fell shut, separating her from the rest of her dinner.

“Arrogant git.”, she hissed. 

“Don’t be harsh on him, love!”, Arthur insisted. “He’s busy with the business.”

She only shrugged. 

It was bothering her more than it should. She had left Birmingham to go to college, and had moved in with Ada so that they could share the costs. Then, before long, Tommy had bought them not only a house but a car, not that they needed it in central London, but it was nice to have.

She had thought him buying a house would mean he was around a bit more, but no. 

Only once had she passed him in the hall when he had been on his way out, and he had greeted her with a small smile and a meaningless “All good?”, but he was already on the run.

She missed Birmingham, she missed them all, but with Tommy it felt like the only place she yet held in his life was on a list of expenses - and that stung. 

But what was there to be done?

Tommy was his own man and she was her own woman. Besides, she was his little sister’s friend, hardly anyone of much importance in the busy life of Mr. Thomas Shelby. 

She still had Ada, and Arthur and John, so she needn’t mourn too much. 

Ada of course, had decided to enrol in the same university as she had, taking on Sociology, Politics and Gender Studies all in one go.

She was well suited for it and burned to share her knowledge with her, and now her brothers too. 

While (Y/N) could only contribute anecdotal evidence, they were certainly in agreement of many things. Especially in regards to the differences between men and women in society. 

And before long they were on a roll, with John blushing and Arthur paling with every word. The door behind her clicked open again, as Tommy returned - without her falafels. 

Jackass. 

But that didn’t stop her from making her point.

“Women constantly get underestimated and reduced to their looks.”, she insisted, throwing her hands in the air. “It is just so exhausting!”

Ada nodded ceremoniously, impatient to get her own point in. 

 “Did you know Marilyn Monroe was actually really smart?”, she asked.

“If she was so smart why did she stand over that subway vent and have them take pictures up her skirt?”, John asked. 

“That was for a movie!”, Ada hissed, glaring at her brother. 

“Speaking of movie stars - everytime you turn on music in your car, that’s due to Hedy Lamar - the one with the stars.”, she insisted, waving around the back of her head. “She invented Bluetooth, or rather the technology behind it.”

“So far more than looks- but history remembers them as pretty!”

Ada said the word as if it was a slur, or at least a taint. 

“Anyway, back to the original problem. Women get reduced due to their looks so much that it impacts every aspects of their lives!”

“But isn’t that also a good thing?”, John asked. “I mean, there is pretty privilege, right?”

That made her stomach coil. 

“Wanting to sleep with someone isn’t the same as listening or valuing them!”, she snarled, considering if she should try to aim for his shin under the table. 

“Besides,”, Ada added, “most men are intimidated by both attractive and intellectual women. Combine the two and 99% of men run to the hills.”

She leaned back and sighed in dramatic fashion, giving her a lamenting look. “It is a common phenomenon that just the prettiest girls find it so difficult to get a man, one who is not intimidated or even fells insulted.”

“My words exactly!”, she added with a nod. 

Across the table, Tommy scoffed. 

“You got something to say?”, Ada hissed, as always ready for a fight, especially with her favourite sparring partner. 

She loved to argue, but arguing with Tommy was the rarest and most favoured pastimes for her. 

And he didn’t care to back down from a fight and so met his sister’s gaze with that barely-there knowing smirk of his, as if the universe had laid bare all the secrets it contained in front of him and him alone. 

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”, Ada asked, “Go on then.”

He shrugged in dismissal once more.

“I think you’re making things too complicated.”

“We? We are making things too complicated?”

Ada’s cheeks began to flush and she could practically see the speech beginning to form. 

“Yes. I’m not exactly saying that society’s perfect but it’s not the cause of everyone’s problems.”

“It kind of is, though!”, Arthur argued.

Tommy shot him a dark glare, all playfulness he had in his eyes when he had faced Ada gone at the sight of his brother’s betrayal. 

“If (Y/N) can’t find a man, it’s hardly the patriarchy’s fault. Perhaps she’s just looking in the wrong places.”

She choked on her drink, feeling the liquid climb up to her nose as she coughed, barely managing to cover her mouth with a napkin as Arthur hit her back. 

“Wait what?”, Ada asked, staring at her brother in utter disbelief.

“When did this discussion become about me?”, (Y/N) managed to croak out, her eyes burning. 

“Yeah, what are you on about, Tommy?”, John demanded to know, before his face split into a wide grin. “Hang on-”

“Shut up!”, Tommy hissed, as his ears began to turn red. “I must’ve misheard, alright. Nothing to get stuck up on.”

He fidgeted with his cufflinks. 

John threw his head back in laughter and even Ada giggled.

“Did he just call me pretty?”, (Y/N) asked, bracing her elbows on the table as she leaned forward, having recovered from her drink mishap. 

“Pretty and intellectual!”, Arthur added for formalities sake, earning more throaty chuckles and giggles, as Tommy’s ears turned the shade of ripe tomatoes. One could even see the colour sneak up his neck. 

“What do you want me to say?”, Tommy hissed, “You’re not ugly, are you?”

His anger only made her giggle more as she leaned back. “I should put that on a t-shirt.”, she suggested with a smirk. 

“We could start a clothing line, make it Shelby Company Limited official and Tommy can write off a bit of tax, that would be nice, wouldn’t it, Tom?”, Ada teased, giving her brother a playful shove. He was hacking away at his phone again, pretending he didn’t hear, while his ears seemed to glow so brightly they couldn’t have lit the entire room on their own.

End.

Thank you so much @flyingjosephine-blog for requesting and participating in my celebration and for requesting modern!Tommy - I had such fun with this and I hope you like it!

Thank you everyone for reading and as always, I hope you enjoyed and would love to hear your thoughts!

If you want to participate in my celebration, click here!

Taglist

Overall

@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @chlorrox @watercolorskyy @books-livre @quarterpastmidnight  @lilyevanswhore  @polishcrazyone  @zablife  @just-a-harmless-patato  @stevie75 @flyingjosephine-blog @runnning-outof-time @babayaga67 @butterfly-skinnylegend @cillmequick

Tommy

@knowledgefulbutterfly  @signorellisantichrist @lespendy @geeksareunique @look-at-the-soul

[zablife]

Misadventures

Modern!Tommy moodboard inspired by the incredible series Misadventures by the talented @moral-terpitude.

“She loved waking up in the morning with him when the world was still black and white."

[aunmenosheteroenespanol]

2.12 Chimney Begins - 2.09 Hen Begins - 2.16 Bobby Begins Again - 7.04 Buck, Bothered and Bewildered

Tommy's family arc

[temeyes]

brotherly embrace

[sp0o0kylights]

I saw a video today that said, “It’s very uncomfortable as an adult when your friend starts to date somebody who sucks, and you’re all looking at each other going ‘Guys, if this is the person who makes them happy…I think collectively as a unit we can agree that we would rather see them sad. So what's the plan?’” 

And immediately went: modern Steddie AU were Steve dates his high school friend Tommy and everyone is tearing their hair out over how awful he’s being treated. 

Ft. the Party, led by Dustin, hounding Eddie “I could get a man in a SECOND, I just CHOOSE not to date” Munson for help

However:

Eddie is mostly thinking the entire thing is a joke (King Steve and Tommy Hagan? Gay? Together?? Nice try Henderson.) until he runs into Robin. She laments that yeah, they’re bi, but more importantly, Tommy is fucking awful and Steve refuses to see it. 

2. Eddie, maybe, kind of, still has a crush on Steve ("Stop laughing Gareth, everyone has--had! Had a crush on him!") and the guy was never THAT bad in high school---but Tommy Hagan definitely was and a little revenge would be fun.

and finally;

3. Instead of going with the kids' well intentioned but very misguided “Let’s get Eddie to Steal Steve” plan, Eddie meets up with the Robin/Nancy/Jonathan/Argyle/Chrissy dream team to figure out how to prove to Steve that Tommy is horrible. 

Bonus: Robin and Nancy come up with a full proof multi step plan that involves Eddie pissing off Tommy in ways that look completely innocent. The hope is that Steve will see how controlling and unreasonable Tommy is, and break it off.

This hurts no one and just highlights to Steve Tommy's behavior.

Of course, Eddie goes off the rails immediately upon meeting Steve.

Instead of following The Plan, he, with the kids permission and help, gets Tommy to get blow up about THEM.

This is far more successful.

Bonus x2: A large amount of shenanigan's with the kids vs Tommy are involved. As is a scene were Steve breaks down and admits he knows Tommy is terrible, but Tommy puts up with him and Steve "knows how he is."

Eddie goes home, prints out a picture of Tommy and throws cheap ren fair daggers at it for at least three solid hours while he tries to think up ways to prove to Steve Harrington that his parents are wrong, hes very lovable actually.

In fact Eddie would very much like a shot at trying it out, thanks!

(It is also, inevitably, successful.)

[soleilceirinen]

Scaredy Cat | modern!Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader

Summary: your boyfriend and your cat don't get along, they hate each other. When you have to travel for work and there is no one else to take care of your cat except for Tommy, you can't help but worry. What will you find when you return?

Warning: mentions of past animal abuse (not anymore), the cat gets sick, Tommy swears as usual, etc. If some of this might trigger you, don't read. There are mentions of smut but no real smut.

A/N: English isn't my first language, sorry if there are mistakes!

Peaky Blinders Masterlist - Cillian Murphy Masterlist

Tommy was very good with horses. Sometimes, just to tease him, you liked to call him 'Horse Whisperer Tommy'. He didn't find it funny at all. The truth is that he didn't get along so well with cats. 

At least, this man was incapable of getting along with yours. And it was funny because most of the time he reminded you of an angry cat himself, the rest of the time too, being honest. Sometimes, when you were on the couch watching a movie with Tommy lying on your chest and you scratched the back of his head right where his hair was shorter, you would swear you could hear him purring, melting under your touch. 

Your cat liked to make things difficult. The first time Tommy stayed over at your house, the cat took the space on the bed between the two of you, making it clear which was her territory and that you were hers. Every time he tried to get closer to you he was met with an outstretched paw that pushed him to the opposite side of the bed. You thought it was funny, he not so much. When you woke up you found Tommy's suit jacket full of orange hairs, crumpled on the floor. To this day the jacket still had traces of cat hair.

Moreover, how could you forget the day when Tommy was working on his laptop from your house and the cat bit the corner of the screen? Needless to say, Tommy couldn't continue working on whatever he was doing, which pissed him off so much, because the device stopped working. Your cat spent the rest of the day with a satisfied expression on her round face.

The rest of the time, the poor creature just hissed at Tommy every time she saw him. Eventually, she ended up accepting that neither of them were going to disappear from your life. At least you hoped it wouldn't happen in a long time. 

From the bedroom you heard your boyfriend talking, his deep voice too low to understand his words. You assumed that he would be talking on the phone, always busy with work, even in his sleep he kept mumbling meaningless phrases. 

You headed to the kitchen, after a long day at work you couldn't wait any longer to have dinner. Your cat appeared out of nowhere and began to walk between your legs, creating infinity shapes and wrapping her long tail around your calf. You bent down to scratch her belly when she leaned on the floor in the middle of the kitchen.

"You're so cute," you said in a childish voice, earning a sideways glance from Thomas, full of resentment.

"Cute my balls," he spat.

The cat looked at you with her eyes wide open, as if she were asking you ‘did you hear what he said?’ You jumped to your feet and put your hands on your hips, looking at Tommy with a raised eyebrow. "May I know what's the matter with you?" 

“Your cat, Y/N,” he muttered, turning to you with his hand in front of his face. On the back of it was a deep cut, no, it was a scratch. "Look what the evil’s spawn has done to me."

You glanced at the cat one last time, she looked back at you and licked her paw innocently. Letting out a sigh, you took Tommy's hand in yours to inspect the wound.

"What have you done to make her do this?" you asked cautiously.

He responded with a huff. "Nothing. She came out of nowhere and jumped at me with her claws out."

You nodded in silence and began to disinfect his hand. Your cat was like that, she didn't like men. Actually, she only liked you. Sometimes you wondered if her bad attitude was due to her previous owners, who didn't treat her very well. The thought of someone mistreating your cat filled you with sadness as well as anger. Fucking bastards.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, to him and to her, a tinge of sadness in your voice which didn't go unnoticed to Tommy.

When you finished covering his scratch with a bandaid, Tommy grabbed you hand in his and gave it a loving squeeze before continuing placing the food on the dinner table. 

-

You had always liked animals, when you were little you weren’t allowed to have pets because your brother was allergic to them. So, the moment you got a job in the city and moved out on your own, the first thing you did was go to the nearest shelter to adopt a kitten.

That was the initial idea, to bring a small cat home and raise it. However, when you saw the sad eyes of the orange cat watching you from inside her cubicle, you had the feeling that you were predestined to end up together. She was already an adult cat at that time but that didn't matter to you.

At the shelter they briefly told you that her former owners, whoever they were, had mistreated her and left her abandoned, half dead in a garbage can. A homeless man searching through the trash found her and took her there, where she was taken care of until she luckily recovered. You couldn't be more grateful to that stranger who cared enough to rescue her. Unfortunately, two years had passed since then and no one had wanted to adopt her. 

She instantly won your heart. You took her home and named her Cat, like Holly Golightly's cat in Breakfast at Tiffany's. Plus, both of them looked alike. Of course, Tommy complained that it was a ridiculous name for a cat, similar as if he called one of his horses Horse.

-

A couple of weeks after the scratching incident with Tommy, you were notified that you had to travel to another city for a week on behalf of the company you worked for, which was great because it gave you the opportunity to explore new places. The disadvantage was that your cat was old and had to take a pill every day, for life. You didn't trust anyone to leave them in charge of such a task, but not going on the company trip would mean losing the opportunity to receive a promotion in the coming months. You didn't know what to do but you had an idea.

That night Tommy was going to visit you, so you would make him a suggestion.

After having dinner, Tommy and you started kissing passionately. Everything with him was very intense. His warm, calloused hands ran along your sides under your shirt, leaving a trail of goosebumps over your soft skin. Your fingertips scratched the shaved sides of his hair and he let out a moan, pressing his lips harder against yours, never breaking the contact. 

You were starting to feel his bulge growing against your crotch, so you moved your hips against him, enjoying the friction. Now you were the one who let out a moan of pleasure.

“Fuck,” he murmured, burying his face in your neck as he panted. "Can't you make her leave, or at least make her stop staring at me like that?"

You looked at him slightly confused, following his gaze to the cardboard box where Cat was lying with her head resting on the edge of it, watching you without blinking. It didn't matter how many beds you bought her, none could beat the cardboard box. Rolling your eyes, you placed a hand on your boyfriend's face and caressed his sharp cheekbone, trying to get him to focus on you again.

"Just ignore her. Look at me," you said softly, kissing his jaw.

Tommy pulled away from you and sat on the sofa, running a hand over his face. "I can't, love. She's looking at me, killing my mood." He shrugged, looking sick.

You sighed, mentally saying goodbye to any possibility of Tommy fucking the hell out of you. "How bold she is, daring to look down on the great Thomas Michael Shelby."

He gave you a wide eyed look before frowning. "Are you making fun of me? Hey, where do you think you're going? Taking the beast to another room?"

"I'm going to get some water."

Once in the kitchen you took a couple of deep breaths, gathering the courage to talk to him. It was your opportunity to convince him to stay with Cat. You returned to the living room and sat next to him, crossing your legs on the sofa.

"Tommy, do you remember my work trip?"

He looked at you with a blank face for a few seconds until a spark of knowledge shone at the back of his eyes. "Yes, you're going away for a week. Is that right?"

You nodded, biting your lip. "Can I ask you a favor?"

His expression changed to one of suspicion. Usually you didn't ask for things, you didn't hesitate, so he knew you were about to ask him to do something he wouldn't like.

"It depends".

"You have to come in the morning to feed Cat, but not too much because she eats it all and gets sick," Tommy opened his mouth to complain but you were faster, placing the palm of your hand over his lips before continuing. "At night you come back and give her the pill with a bit of soft food, you have to pay attention and make sure she has swallowed it, okay? Also,  change her water, because when she has it for more than a day she won’t drink it."

He gave you a small kiss on the palm of your hand. You removed it and looked at him through your lashes, expectantly.

"Anything else?" he asked, feigning boredom. You smiled. It had been very easy, you hadn't even had to convince him.

"Yes! You have to clean up her cat litter."

-

The day of your trip, you left everything ready so that when he arrived at night, Tommy would find things easily. 

He opened your apartment door and stuck his head in doubtfully, there was no sign of the furry little beast. He was having flashbacks to the last time he stayed over, when Cat started running around the house making weird noises as if she was possessed by Satan himself. Tommy still felt chills remembering how the cat jumped into the bedroom moving sideways with her tail twisted while she howled. You couldn’t stop laughing, used to see your cat doing that almost every day, but Tommy kept saying that he witnessed a demonic possession that night.

But at that moment there were no howls or strange noises. In fact, everything was quiet. One of those silences that he had experienced so many times in his life before. The kind of silence that does not bode well. Tommy squared his shoulders, he wasn't going to get carried away by his superstitious ideas. It was just a cat. He would come in, give her the pill and some water, and then he would leave. Fast and clean. 

As he approached the corner where the hallway turned to the left at a ninety-degree angle he stopped. Your cat liked to hide there before jumping like a lion hunting for its prey on Tommy's legs. He still had the scar from the last bite, he didn't want to take another one.

This time he was prepared. With a quick movement he stood on the next section of the hallway. But there was nothing. Frowning and feeling a bit ridiculous, Tommy walked through the house looking for the little beast until he found her lying on the sofa.

The cat was curled up in a ball, her head resting on the armrest. Only her green eyes moved following Tommy's movements as he approached her. She seemed kind of off and Tommy couldn't help but feel a tinge of empathy.

“Do you miss Y/N too?” he asked out loud. The cat blinked weakly. "This place feels weird without her around, huh?" 

Tommy didn't know what to expect, some kind of reaction or something. The cat remained still, staring at the wall. He gave her one last glance, shrugging and heading to the kitchen. You had placed a note on the refrigerator door with more instructions, attached with a magnet in a miniature version of the Eiffel Tower that Tommy brought you from Paris. 

He ran his fingertips over your handwriting, thinking. He was going to take you to France the next time you had holidays. The rest of the refrigerator was covered with polaroids of you smiling at the camera, the two of you together, you with your friends and family... and the cat.

'Ah yes, the cat.' Tommy remembered, turning around.

The food and water bowls were full, as if she hadn't touched them all day. That was strange, the feeling of something not going right increased. Grabbing a clean bowl, Tommy put some soft food in it and inserted the pill, completely camouflaged, before placing it on the floor in front of the sofa. 

"Eat," he indicated authoritatively. 

He was a man used to being obeyed in everything, everyone did except you. You were the only one who could handle him like a rag doll and he wouldn’t complain. There was no doubt that this cat was yours, she didn't even look at the food.

Tommy grunted, losing his patience. He grabbed the bowl with one hand and the cat with the other, pushing them together as much as he could. The animal did not resist, after a few minutes a third of the food was gone, including the pill, but she refused to swallow more. "As you wish," he murmured, leaving the remains of food next to the other bowls.

When he looked into the small laundry room where you had the cat's litter box, his heart skipped a beat. Everything was a mess, the floor was full of poop and vomit.

"Fucking hell," he muttered under his breath. Then he returned to the living room, ready to give the cat the reprimand of her life but stopped short. He hadn't noticed before but there were also traces of vomit on the living room floor. "Shit."

Just then his phone started ringing. Your name appeared on the screen. He cleared his throat and answered.

"Hello Tommy" your voice sounded happy although somewhat tired. "How are you doing, honey?"

"Good. I gave the pill to the beast, don't worry. Are you okay?" He spoke as fast as he could, trying to move the conversation away from the cat. 

"Yeah, it's a little boring you know, all day in meetings and now they want to go to have dinner but I don't feel like going. I haven't been able to call you all day, as you can see  I haven't stopped.” You let out a small laugh. ”Hey Tommy, thanks for taking care of Cat. It means a lot to me. I have to go, they came to pick me up. I love you!"

You hung up the call before he could say anything back. Leaving the phone on the coffee table, he walked into the balcony, feeling the cold wind against his skin.

Tommy leaned on the balustrade as he lit a cigarette, smoking slowly. You didn’t like him smoking inside the house, or smoking in general, but that was his problem and you couldn’t change it. This way the balcony became his territory. Once he finished, he went back inside, closing the door behind him. The last thing he needed was the cat jumping out the window. 

He started cleaning everything the best he could while debating whether to call you again and tell you everything, that something was wrong with your cat, or try to fix it on his own. Yes, he would do that better. Tommy was a man of resources, he wasn't going to ruin your trip and worry you if he could take care of it.

After making sure everything was clean and the cat had food and water, he left your house, relieved that he wouldn't have to spend another second alone with that animal. 

-

When he returned the next day and found both the food and water intact, he headed to the living room, where Cat was still lying in the same position as the day before. He felt his soul leaving his body. 

Tommy swallowed and sat on the couch next to the cat. He approached his hand slowly to touch her soft fur, expecting the cat to hiss like she always did when he got too close to her. That would mean everything was fine. But that didn’t happen, the feline's only reaction was shuddering and letting out a pitiful whimper so soft that if he hadn't been sitting next to her, Tommy wouldn't have heard it.

Shit, shit, shit. He covered his mouth with his hand, his brain working at maximum power. He had to do something. Being aware of how important that cat was to you, if something bad happened to her... he didn't even want to imagine your reaction. 

Without wasting another second, he dialed May Carleton’s number, the veterinarian who sometimes treated his horses. After explaining the situation, she told him to bring Cat into the clinic to take a look at her. Tommy picked up the cat in his arms, wrapped in a blanket, and held her to his chest like one does when cradling a baby. The poor thing let him do it, too weak to complain.

The drive from your house to the clinic was frantic, Tommy drove like a madman and once there he skipped the line in the waiting room, entering directly and leaving the bundle on the metal table. "Thomas, you can't sneak in like this," said May while putting on a pair of clean latex gloves.

"It's an emergency," he said, pointing to the metal table.

The vet's expression changed from annoyance to concern the moment she laid her eyes on the poor creature. "Okay, Thomas. I'll take over from here, why don't you wait outside?"

It turned out that she had eaten some plant that's poisonous to cats. This had caused her intestine and some other organs to inflame, or something like that. At least they had discovered it in time to help her.

The first thing Tommy did when he got back to your apartment was throwing away all the plants. The second thing was not taking his blue eyes off from Cat for a minute during the next three days.

-

At the end of the week you couldn’t wait any longer to go back home. You called Tommy several times but he didn't pick up the phone. Every time you had talked to him in the past few days he always told you that everything was going great. You had a hard time believing it. In about twenty minutes you’ll be home and you could finally hug your baby Cat and take a shower, in that order.

You stopped at the entrance of your home, leaving the suitcase and your shoes next to Tommy’s. He's here after all, you thought. The lights were off, all of them except for the one in the living room. You walked towards there and what you saw made your heart fill with love. 

Tommy was on the sofa, fast asleep. Curled against his side was Cat, sleeping too. She was holding Tommy’s hand between her paws. You covered your mouth with your hand, hiding your smile. They were too adorable. Never had you thought the day in which the two of them could get along would come. Seeing them sleeping together seemed like a dream. 

You took your phone and started taking pictures of them. The next week you would print one to put it on your fridge door, a new moment to remember.

[transmascsimonriley]

Au where Simon died instead of Tommy

(this is from november last year I just forgot to post this here)

[peakyscillian]

I wish you would write a Modern!Tommy being all cosy at home with his wife!!

Pizza & Champagne.

Part of this post that I reblogged - send in a prompt & i’ll add it to my list! This is just a very tiny gift to make up for the late posting of 'Family Ties' I'm aiming for a midweek update this week!

-

It's in moments like this when Y/N see’s the real Tommy, her Tommy. A day spent inside, no work, no phones just each other. 

Tommy in his most relaxed state, she wasn’t sure if anyone had ever seen him dressed in a sweatshirt and a pair of grey joggers, but she was so glad she was privileged enough to experience it. 

He was almost softer on days like these, as if the weekend spent away from his busy life had worn down the edges of him. 

She looks up as he enters the lounge, a bottle of champagne and the takeaway pizzas in hand, a smile on his face as she got up to help him “Pizza and Champagne like our first date” she hums, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“I know how to treat a lady” he jokes, placing the boxes on the coffee table, she passes him the champagne “Tom, we’d had a late night in the office even though we were meant to be going for a nice dinner” she giggles, as he skillfully popped the bottle open. 

“Like I said I know how to treat the ladies” he winked, handing her a glass, she took a sip letting the bubbles pop on her tongue “Well you got me so it must have worked” she smiled, curling her legs underneath herself on the sofa, settling back as Tommy dished up slices of pizza. 

-

@cillmequick @runnning-outof-time @look-at-the-soul @gypsy-girl-08 @heidimoreton @thomasshelbee @forgottenpeakywriter @shelbydelrey @allie131313 @cillixn @midnightmagpiemama @zablife @queenshelby @missymurphy1985 @janelongxox @cloudofdisney @being-worthy @vhscillian @radioheadgirl @elenavampire21 @datewithgianni @magicalpieex @camilleholland89 @cilliansangel @uchihacumdump @inkandpen22 @ysmmsy @lyarr24 @anotherhitandrun @alreadybroken-ts @flyingjosephine-blog @moral-turpitudes @duckybird101 @lostgirl219 @blyanyan @flippittygibbitts @stevie75 @winchestergirl22 @stars-of-scorpio @moral-terpitude @lespendy @lovemissyhoneybee @pocket-of-possibilities @otterly-fey @gotohellandbackforyou @tinyminxie

-

[moral-terpitude]

Misadventures - Part 16 (Merry Fucking Christmas)

and it won't be long 'till we drop this match • when I burn to your fingertips, you can throw what's left

A/N: so, this will be the last part until 2024! I didn’t forget about part 15 (it’s still in the works and a bit rocky!) but, this is just where Christmas falls in the story sequentially, so, we’ll have to just do some jumping around here a bit!

[Masterlist] [Series Masterlist]

Misadvetures taglist: @cillmequick @emotionalcadaver @zablife @raincoffeeandfandoms

Summary: Quinn has an unexpected guest.

Word Count: 4,072

Warnings: discussion of childhood trauma, discussion of intergenerational trauma, discussion of childhood sexual assault, missing persons, discussion of character death. This is NOT warm and fuzzy.

Quinn realized, as she sat looking into the yet unlit fireplace, she had never spent a Christmas alone. 

She had decided that maybe coming home and being somewhere familiar, while not with family, would be a good break. 

She hadn’t told Tommy she would be by herself. He had seemed surprised when she said she was going home for Christmas, and she was yet to talk to anyone but her dad, and as far as he knew she was still in New York. 

A good ol’ switcheroo to give her some time to herself.

The drive in the rental car wasn’t terrible, and the weather had just started to pick up once she got settled in, taking the time to stop off and pick up ingredients for dinner even though she definitely didn’t feel like cooking. 

The carrots were steaming in the pan as she pulled the bottle of non-alcoholic wine Tommy had given her from the bag, an actually quite kind gesture the more she looked at it, because it wasn’t just the fake Welch’s champagne her mom would give them on new years as kids, it was really made in a winery somewhere, and she wondered if he had had to order a whole batch of it just to get one bottle, because if he had, it would last her a lifetime. 

She felt somewhat choked up at the thought, because until then, she realized she hadn’t been looking to the future too far with Tommy, trying to not overthink things, but she really liked the idea of him being it for her. 

She didn’t want to go back to dating, and before he sort of fell into her lap she wasn’t looking for someone, so maybe that’s all there was to it, that she’d find the right person when it was time. 

She dug through the junk drawer in search of the wine key, flipping over the salmon in the buttered pan as the potatoes browned in the oven. 

Snowflakes fell outside the window, and as the breeze flung them all through the air, she caught the sight of headlights against the trees. 

Her brow furrowed, pulling the curtain, to see, of all people, her mother getting out of the White Jeep Wagoneer that was parked behind the rental, and trudging towards the door, sputtering as she did so about what Quinn could only guess she was saying was the “fucking stupid weather.”

“Mom?” Quinn cracked the door, peeking her head out, as another gust of wind came through, sending her shivering. 

“Oh, let me through, it’s freezing out here, Quinn.”

Quinn nodded, returning to the stove to shut off the burners. 

The sound of her mom kicking the snow off of her boots sent her back to snow days as a child, all 7 of them busting back into the house for grilled cheese and soup before turning on a movie with mugs of hot chocolate. 

Quinn didn’t turn around as she put the food on the plate, hesitating for a moment before realizing there was enough for both of them, that her eyes had been bigger than her stomach. 

“Have you ate?”

“I left around dinner, stopped off for a coffee.”

“How’d you know I was here?” Quinn asked, pulling another plate out of the cupboard and divvying up the salmon onto the second plate, fresh carrots and potatoes piled on as well. 

She sat them on the table, doubling back for utensils, before sitting herself in the chair, the bottle of wine still unopened. 

“Your dad was showing Amanda how to set up Life360 on their new phones, I haven’t had the notifications on I guess, but it showed you heading through Cadillac.”

“I took everyone but dad off of mine.” Quinn took a bite, biding her time before speaking in an effort to calm herself. “Why are you here?”

Her mother sighed, giving a shake of her head, “To talk. I’m surprised I got this far, I honestly didn’t think you’d let me in,” her brows furrowed as she stilled, the way Quinn would listen as well to see if anyone was around, “Isn’t Tommy with you?”

Quinn pushed the carrots around on her plate before stabbing through one, “No. He has the kids. I told him I was coming home, but, I didn’t tell him I’d be by myself. It just felt…too soon to spend a holiday with his kids. I’ve met them, and it’s not that I don’t want to be around them, I just—“

“I get it,” she nodded, as Quinn took a bite, falling back into silence until their plates were empty and in the sink soaking in hot sudsy water. 

“So, I know you didn’t drive for almost three hours to talk about the weather.” Quinn stood at the counter, popping the cork out of the bottle, before pouring herself a glass. “I’d offer you some, but it isn’t going to do anything for you.”

She saw her mother still out of the corner of her eye, before she stood slowly, crossing to pick up the bottle and examine it. 

“Are you—“

“No,” she drummed her nails on the side of the glass, wishing she would have kept her mouth shut, “it just turns out alcohol and I don’t mix, so, it’s better this way.”

Patti sat the bottle down, leaning against the stove, before huffing out a sigh, “My dad…was an alcoholic.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Quinn bit back, deciding it was best to be a bit on the defensive still until she managed to feel out her mother’s true purpose for the visit, “you’ve never told us anything about him.”

“I know. Because he wasn’t nice. He wasn’t a good man, and he sure as hell wasn’t a good father.”

Quinn thought about watching Tommy and the way he interacted with the kids. By someone’s standards, she was sure, he wouldn’t be considered a good man, but, she thought he was. And a good father, too. 

Quinn chewed the inside of her lip, “I have a feeling this is going to be a long story, so can we sit, please?”

Her mother nodded, and Quinn wandered to the dimly lit living room, grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch, and tucked herself into the corner, watching her mother take the other end. 

Quinn waited. It wasn’t often that the two of them had much time alone together, and maybe that was part of the problem. She wasn’t particularly in the mood for mending old wounds, not bothering anymore to shed tears over whether life was fair and that their relationship wasn’t good, but at the same time, she was tired of feeling constantly at odds with her family, too.

“I know, there’s things I don’t talk about, but I’ve never wanted to burden anyone with them.” Quinn felt her brow furrow, unsure of how to prepare for the incoming information, “When I was young my uncle, for a very long time, lived with us. He was paid disability from Vietnam. Aunt Amelia and I shared a room. Sometimes, since our parents both worked, he would watch us instead of the neighbor lady, and then he eventually volunteered to watch us all the time. Always home.”

Quinn’s stomach sank, the realization of the unwell feeling the words gave her, the prickle of hair raising on the back of her neck, made her dread what was coming next.

“He never…” she watched her mother sigh, averting her eyes, staring at anything but Quinn as she spoke, “it wasn’t sex, but he did things to me. To her. He never looked twice at Pat, probably because he was older, but Spencer was younger and he took advantage of him, too.”

Quinn fiddled with the gold post in her lip awkwardly; was this how Tommy felt when she unloaded everything on him? What was there really to say? 

It felt different, her divulging everything to him, contextually. It was an explanation. An apology. A warning. All tied up neatly with a bow. This was, well, something else entirely.

The reasoning she had been looking for, maybe.

“When your father and I first got married, Spencer was nowhere to be found. Hadn’t heard from him in years. Then he just showed up one day. Rebecca was 5, so I would have been pregnant with Erica.”

Quinn found it funny the way her mother measured time, sometimes. Rebecca being the oldest, must have only known her to be pregnant for most of her growing up years. 

“He said he needed somewhere to go. That it was temporary. He stayed with us for maybe a year, I think, Erica was small when he left. I came home one day from the doctor to your dad and Opa in the yard, with him blathering on, high on something, saying he didn’t know what he was doing and that he was sorry. He was crying because Opa had the shotgun pointed at him and–”

She shook her head, wiping at a stray tear.

“I never thought anything of it, your dad was at work and I couldn’t cart all of the girls to the appointment, so he said he’d watch them. Your dad came home to…”

Her mothers mouth pressed into a firm line, not wanting to admit the words. 

“Lydia didn’t realize until way later on. She was four. Too little to really know what was happening. The first time she ever did anything with a boy she ended up punching him in the face because it came back to her.”

“That’s why she left.” 

It wasn't a question. It all made sense now. At 14-years-old she hadn’t understood the tension all those years, Lydia acting out, never being home, moving out the minute she turned eighteen and, of course, changing her phone number and never looking back.

For a while, Quinn would call, hoping to at least be sent to voicemail. It didn’t take long for the number to be reassigned to someone else.

“I’m sorry, Quinn. I know, your sister will never talk to me, ever again. That’s something I have to live with and something I regret every day.” She chewed her lip, “Neither of you deserved what happened, and, as parents, we didn’t advocate hard enough for you. I was young with everything that happened to Lydia, and I should’ve pushed harder when they tried to say Spencer wasn’t competent to stand trial.”

Her mother sighed, pulling her eyes away from watching the snowfall outside of the window.

“With Gerard, we should have known better and we should have gotten ahold of Tim sooner.”

Quinn nodded, slowly, looking away.

Her whole life could be summed up by “coulda, shoulda, woulda,” if she tried hard enough.

She wanted to yell, be angry, scream, fight, punch, hit, but she was tired of giving energy to the things that didn’t, really, concern her anymore.

It was done. It was over. It was something that happened, and yes, it affected her, but she was never going to change it.

“Gerard has been missing.” 

The comment itself was out of left field, while not really, for the subject they had been on.

Quinn was somewhat disgusted with the gasp she let out; despite the fact she couldn’t stand his guts it was still shocking news.

“The department put him on leave after you left, and he came up missing a few weeks ago. There was a note, apparently he doesn’t want to be found. It didn’t sound like suicide but they haven’t ruled it out either.”

Quinn’s stomach sank, a few weeks ago was, well, Tommy had been out of town for work. It seemed like they hadn’t been back for very long from her meeting Charlie and Ruby to just have him pack up and leave again, this time, without her.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t asked, but the timeframe was just too tight and she couldn’t keep rescheduling appointments just because she wanted to go with him.

Work. 

She tried not to grimace, but it was something she made a mental note to ask him about when she saw him again. 

There was no subtle way to ask that through a text message. 

Hey, did you happen to threaten and kill my ex, because if you did, well, honestly, thanks. 

Despite going against my previous wishes. 

“So they haven’t seen him since, what, Thanksgiving time?”

“Yeah, just about.”

“Damn,” she sighed, “that’s honestly shitty to have happen around the holidays.”

“Oh,” Patti shook her head, realizing that she had forgotten something, getting up and rummaging through her purse, “this was at the house. Your dad brought it in, but, it had your name on it.”

Quinn puffed out her cheeks, taking the purple wrapped box gently from the shipping box it had been in. 

There was a blue satchel inside, the word Shinola being the largest, with Detroit also pressed in gold below it. 

“Oh, fuck,” she whispered, opening the drawstring and removing the blue box, hands trembling as she unwrapped the piece of paper that fell out. 

Quinn, I’m the luckiest man to have found my perfect match in you. -Tommy

She felt all her limbs turn to gelatin and she hadn’t even opened the box yet. How had he planned this? The note was clearly in his handwriting, but– she tried not to overthink it too much, some things Tommy did he just did, and she was trying not to look too far into the rhyme or reason at that point.

Fuck. Don’t cry, do not cry. 

She opened the magnetized lid, the gold necklace situated on a plush white pillow inside. 

All the charms were 14-karat gold, strung onto a pave gold charm and situated gently in the box. A lightning bolt, a golden match with the word LUCKY engraved on the side (which she knew from the online catalog was exactly how it came) and an upright horseshoe engraved on the golden placard hanging in the midst. 

She handed the box off to her mother, resolve finally breaking, as she got up in search of some tissues. 

“Quinn, that's really pretty. Don’t you like it?” 

“I do,” she mumbled, the words coming through trembling lips as she tried to wipe away all the tears, “no; I do, I really really do.”

She let out a sigh. 

“Then what’s wrong?”

“It’s just been…” she turned on the cold tap, filling a glass with water, “tough. Things have been tough. I mean, we’re both juggling businesses, and, the kids. They’re great. They really are. But I don’t think they like me. Well, Ruby does, but Charlie is just cold. And…” she swallowed hard, the water not helping her fight back the tears, knowing she couldn’t unload everything on her mother, “Lizzie is just not easy to deal with. I feel like she’s after me and I’ve not really even ever spoken to her. Sometimes you know when someone wants to kill you with just a look.”

“Well, that’s,” her mom hugged her, and Quinn was surprised when it felt like a real one this time, “kind of the situation you’ve stepped into, my dear.”

“I know,” Quinn wailed, setting the glass down on the table as she gave in to the hug, her mother rocking her back and forth gently. 

“If I would’ve known you were coming I would’ve put up the tree.” She whispered, “What were you going to do, sit here and stare at an empty room all weekend.”

“I thought about it.”

Quinn slumped. The drain of all of the information and the crying finally catching up with her at once, hitting her like a freight train.

“Why don’t we watch a Christmas movie instead.”

“Okay. Will you help me put that on, I can’t with my nails.”

Her mother nodded, “You better message him and say you got it.”

Quinn checked the time, “Wow, it’s late, but, yeah. He’s gotta put gifts out and I know he’ll feel like the worst dad in the world if he forgets.”

“Go, call him. We’ve got time.”

“Wait,” Quinn checked the clock, 11:50, how had that much time passed, “give me 10 minutes then I can say Happy Birthday, too.”

“His birthday is Christmas?”

“Yeah, go figure. But you were born on Thanksgiving that year, weren’t you?”

“Hello?” Tommy cleared his throat, feeling for the light as he realized he was being ambushed with a FaceTime call at exactly 12-midnight. 

“Hi.” Quinn smiled. 

“Where are you?” She watched as his eyes scanned the surroundings behind her, the bedroom at the cabin looking nothing like the one they had slept in at her parents.

“Oh,” she swallowed, “at the cabin. I had changed my mind once I had got off the plane, and came up north.”

It was a fib, but one that wouldn’t hurt. 

“Love, what are you doing spending the holiday alone?” He rubbed at his eyes, trying to keep his voice as hushed as he could, and leaned against the headboard. 

“I’m not. Mom’s here,”

His brows raised in surprise, “How’s that?”

“Well,” she sighed, as he finally took in her red ringed eyes, “I’ve learned some things. I think we’re gonna be okay.” She shrugged. 

“Were you crying?”

“You made me cry.”

“What did I do, eh?”

“You got me a gift?! I didn’t get you anything!”

He smiled softly, shrugging, “I’ve got everything I need, love.”

“And it’s your Birthday and I'm not there,” she whispered, lip puckering.

“Nothing special about my birthday, I’ll just be a year older next time I see you.”

She chuckled, swiping at her eyes, “Don’t remind me.”

“I think you should get some sleep, Quinn.” 

She hated to agree and have to hang up, but the day, and all the new information she had been give, was definitely wearing on her. 

Pulling into the driveway of the farmhouse, Quinn was surprised to see more than just her Opa’s truck parked in the drive. 

Behind it, was a car she didn’t recognize. A little red Toyota with an Arizona plate and two car seats strapped in the back. 

She parked the black Jeep off to the side, not wanting to be in anyone’s way, and killed the engine. If someone else was here she would probably be outlasting them awhile if Quinn wanted to have any kind of serious conversation. 

“Well, I better get going,” there was a sniffle, the words coming out muddled as Quinn entered the house, not quite recognizing the voice above the baby babbles and the sound of the television playing some kids show. 

“Well,” her Opa’s gruff voice sounded softer as the voices got closer, the sound of the door opening and closing, Quinn’s presence, and another vehicle arriving outside going unnoticed, “you know you’re welcome anytime.”

“Yeah, I know,” Quinn held her breath as she rounded the corner and made her way as quietly as she could into the kitchen, “I just don’t get back this way that often and thought I sound come see you. I wanted the boys to at least know some of their family, ya know?”

She was surprised that Lydia still looked the same. Almost 14-years and there wasn’t much that had changed about her, other than the baby she was holding and the other child clinging to her leg. Two little boys with the same brown hair and brown eyes as their mother. 

Quinn couldn’t hold back the little huff that came out as tears welled in her eyes. Out of all of them Lydia turned out the most looking like their dad. 

Lydia nodded as their eyes met, ruffling the hair of the little boy attached to her leg, “Like I said, we should get going.”

She felt like a ghost as Lydia brushed past her, no acknowledgment of her presence, no introduction to the kids, nothing. 

Quinn swallowed hard as the door closed, tears finally falling down her face as she doubled back, letting the door slam closed behind her. 

“Lydia?”

Her sister didn’t look up, continuing to buckle the boys into their car seats. 

“Lydia!” 

Quinn was surprised when her sister’s face flashed with a bit of anger, closing the now running vehicle up a bit harshly before closing the distance between the two of them. 

“Don’t.” Her sister shook her head, “Don’t call me that. Listen, I made my peace with this place. I got out of here, got far away, changed my name, and I’m happy now. I have a family. I—“ she rubbed the bridge of her nose, before looking Quinn in the eyes again, “If all I have to do is keep my kids far away from all of you to keep them safe, then that’s what I’ll do.”

Quinn felt her lip pucker, no different than the day that Lydia (whether she wanted to be called that or not, Quinn realized that was all she ever knew her as) left the first time. She wondered if it would have been easier to think of her as being dead all these years. 

It seemed like it was what everyone else did. 

“Mom told me—“

“Me being here wouldn’t have changed what happened to you, Quinn.” She glanced over her shoulder at the vehicle, “I have to go.”

She took a shuddering breath, watching the vehicle drive away. 

No ‘I love you’ or ‘what’s your phone number?’ like she had hoped if she ever saw her sister again. 

Quinn swallowed hard, wiping the tears from her cheeks before they started to freeze and hauled herself back into the house, kicking off her shoes, before returning to the kitchen to see a steaming mug of tea waiting for her on the table. 

Quinn didn’t speak until the tea was gone, a plate of food sat in front of her.

Hashbrowns, eggs, wheat toast, and six strips of, surprisingly, store bought bacon. 

She cleared her throat as her Opa filled the mug with another round of hot water, sliding in the chair across from her at the table. 

She popped the egg, dunking her toast and taking a bite, before speaking. 

“You ran out of bacon? Never thought I’d see that happen.”

She tried to not be sour, but maybe the new year would bring better things. 

Taking a sip out of the mug, she fiddled absentmindedly with the necklace from Tommy, thankful that she at least had some positivity to return to. 

“Yeah, well,” she watched her Opa’s eyes flick to the rest of the pack of bacon on the counter, the lid of the rubber made container open that he intended it to be put into, as he dug the pouch of tobacco out of his lip and set it on the edge of his plate, “hogs got sick awhile back. Think they ate something that didn’t agree with them.”

She blinked, taking in what he had said.

Lots of things seemed to be happing awhile back. 

“Around thanksgiving time?” She questioned, trying to remain nonchalant as their gazes met. 

“Well, now that you say that, I guess it was.” 

“Hm,” Quinn huffed, stabbing into the hashbrowns, “interesting.” She cleared her throat, quickly chewing and swallowing the bite, “I should’ve told Tommy to come see the horses while he was here a few weeks ago.”

He nodded, looking back into the plate, “You coulda. Domino is still getting acclimated but someone breaking her in might not be a bad idea. Otherwise, I ain’t never seen hide nor hair of him.”

Quinn stared at him, the wrinkles and valleys in his face, as she took note of his rather purposeful double negative. He always hated when she talked that way as a kid, told her when he was young his mother woulda beat the ‘ain’t’ out of him if he talked like that. 

She knew he never would have been able to help Tommy haul a body into the enclosure with the pigs, but he definitley was the one that held the keys to it, and she knew if Tommy asked him to dump the body there he’d sacrifice his bacon one million times over to do anything that helped Quinn. 

Quinn decided she didn’t enjoy the fact that all the holiday left her with was more questions than answers. 

She needed a fucking cigarette and it wasn’t even noon yet.

Maybe it was the last time she would come home for Christmas ever again. 

This has been up my sleeve for so long I’ve been trying to be patient with myself and not blow it!

[notyour-valentine]

Don't forget to smile :-) ~ modern!Tommy Shelby & Reader (platonic fluff/angst)

[Masterlist] [Taglist]

Summary: Tommy can't think of anything more ridiculous than the cheery messages the Barista keeps scribbling down on his to go coffee cups

Note: Written for @mrsalwayswrite auparty - I know I am super late, but life was busy and I was more representative of this Tommy than this reader. Despite the delay, I still hope you still enjoy it. At least, by now, I have the element of surprise on my side!

I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other. This hasn't been beta'd so I apologise for typos or mistakes

Warning: anger? car crash, violence, mention of blood, a tiny bit of politics? Depression, mention of suicide. Also Crypto Bros. Expect canon confirming tone and mention of violence.

Wordcount: 2282 words

Don’t forget to smile :-) 

The letters were mocking him. 

The four words added in sharpie to the to-go cup, in such a haste that the drawing had been smudged slightly. 

Don’t forget to smile :-) 

There was very little to smile about in the life of Thomas Shelby, especially these days and so it felt like a personal attack. 

He turned the cup so that he wouldn’t have to look at them. 

The most annoying thing about it was that stupid smiley. It made him want to punch a hole through the to-go cup with his pen just to be rid of it. 

It was as if she was trying to insult him, not just with that idiotic drawing and those empty words she always scribbled down on his cup, but with her whole demeanour. 

She was always smiling. 

She was always wishing everyone a “fantastic day!”

Tommy always knew some people were born with less than half a brain but very few had decided to be as blatantly obvious about it. 

Always smiling, always cheery, always adding messages like these that sounded like they had been taken straight from the pages of some overpriced self help book - or from one of these idiotic motivational instagram pages that would put cheesy phrases over the backdrop of some UFC fighter who would probably subcome to CTE before he turned fifty but he looked tough so what did it matter when you could turn it into an ‘inspirational image’ with ‘good energy’

That entire generation was nothing but a collection of fools living in an echo chamber and throwing phrases like “vibes” and “energy” about, although if he told them that, they’d probably “call him out” for his “toxic masculinity” and “bad vibes”. 

The fact that he knew all these things made him want to curse Ada even more, who had written her second dissertation about said ‘toxic masculinity’, or maybe third - he didn't remember, and to Finn, who only last week offered to ‘connect’ him with one inspirational speaker he really liked who was doing a podcast and really wanted Tommy to be a guest on it. 

He’d rather eat broken glass. 

But like most awful things in his life, that barista was unrelenting.

Apparently she was always the one doing the graveyard shifts, because it was always her handing out his coffee at the drive through in the earliest morning hours, always smiling, always with those stupid useless sayings.

The whole business would work better if their employees didn’t waste time with meaningless scribbles no one would ever bother to read. 

You’re doing great!

As if Tommy Shelby needed a little barista to tell him that.

He knew he was doing great. He knew how far he had come, straight out of the social estate housing in Birmingham to the penthouses of London and New York, with businesses on every continent and a company on the stock market (and several that would never be connected to his or his family’s name). 

Be proud of yourself!

Especially on a day like this with the Chinese business close to blowing up, it made him want to crumple up the cup in his hand, and preferably her idiotic smile with it. 

It was just so unnecessary - a waste of time and energy, even of ink itself. 

But no matter what, he could always count on those few words of writing to ruin his morning. 

Today again. 

You are loved!

He didn’t feel loved, if that even was a thing, not after Polly had been screaming at him for an hour straight, making his ears ring. 

Then again - 

Today’s a great day to have a great day!

What did that even fucking mean?

And what if some other car crashed into his on the way to work and squashed his skull to mush? That would be a sight for the firefighters that would be called to scrape his brains off of the asphalt. 

The next time he’d have to teach one of his rivals a lesson, he should send them something with that saying on first, before blowing up their car or setting fire to their restaurant.

It was funny in a way. 

You’ve totally got this!

He had stared at the writing for longer than he should have, having been up for nearly twenty hours now, running only on stubbornness, caffeine and desperation. 

You’ve totally got this!

Tommy stared at it and thought of the little barista with her silly apron covered in coloured buttons on the side, filled with meaningless slogans and symbols. 

As if putting some logo on a badge would fix things. 

She was only pretending to care about these causes, about him, about all the other customers she smiled at. 

But at least she’s pretending, a voice in his head reminded it. No one else is fucking doing it.

Least of all himself.

These days, Tommy was too tired to pretend, but it didn’t matter, did it?

Not really. After all, everyone was busy, everyone was desperate. 

Ada was up and about changing the world, writing books and fighting causes, trying to pass laws in at least six different countries at once, while Polly was somehow at the Met Gala, the Biennale and Cannes at the same time, hardly spending half as much time in England as she was spending in Monaco or St. Tropez or the Maldives. 

Arthur was already stretched to his limits, in and out of the clinical rehabs Polly and Ada put him in and the church retreats in Iowa that Linda recommended, and talking to his wife was tricky these days, after it came out that she had donated to some politician Ada hated. 

At first she and his sister had been throwing insults, then food, and in the end even fists had flown. 

There was no talking to any of them now. 

Just him, always him. 

“You’re earlier than usual!”, she remarked when he pulled up to the drive way.

Tommy only huffed. 

“Have a great day!”, she told him as she handed him his coffee and a sandwich he probably wouldn’t eat. 

Some days he even wondered if they would notice if he would disappear. 

They would, of course, at least when the money dried up. 

She was doing it for the same reason. He might not like her but he was a fair tipper.

Still, she’d notice before they would. 

Which was - something? He didn’t know, and he didn’t have the energy to think about it. 

London inner city traffic allowed him to glance at what she had written today

You are blessed!

Rolling his eyes, Tommy took a sip. 

So meaningless. So childish. So useless. 

Every single day, like an endless stream of blind idiocy. 

Don’t forget to smile =)

People look up to you!

You WILL achieve your goals!

Today is EXTRA good!

You matter!

I believe in you!

Don’t forget to do what you love 🤍

You do a great job being you!

Meaningless at the best of times, mockery at the worst. 

Countless times he had thought of changing the coffee place just to be rid of her needless pestering positivity, but it was the most convenient spot, besides, doing that would mean he had to concede a reaction to it and to him it was a sign of defeat to indulge fools. 

Still, it was nagging at him. 

This rainy Thursday she had written something particularly irritating on it. 

Not only had she greeted him with a smile “You’re back!” on the first day he had returned from a work trip to Paris.

“Yeah.”, he muttered as he waited for his coffee impatiently. 

As she handed him the cup, he glanced at it. 

People are grateful to know you 

This was reaching new depth. No one in the history of his life had ever been grateful for that. 

Not a single person. 

Even those people who were cursed to love him weren’t. They were grateful for his work and money, but not knowing him. 

Unless - 

Maybe it was the exhaustion, or simply because he couldn’t be bothered to go back to the bank to exchange his change. 

Fuck it, he thought. In a way, he was only doing himself a favor as it would be useless to send someone. 

So Tommy circled around the drive through and ordered some cinnamon roll from her colleague at the first window.

“You again, did you forget something?”, she asked with her beaming smile. 

No. 

“Ever been to Europe - “

Tommy had to squint to read her nametag. 

The name suited her, in a way, even if he hadn’t suspected it. 

“No, but I’d love to go to Rome!”, she said as she handed him the brown paper bag.

Tommy noticed the black writing from her pen, but didn’t read. 

“Cash this time.”, he said, handing her a pound bill, and then whatever had remained in his wallet from his trip to Paris. 

It wouldn’t change the world, but there was enough green and purple in there to finance a little trip for a barista. 

He shoved them into her hand unceremoniously and drove off before she had the chance to react. 

If she was smart, she’d hide it in her pocket, but if she chose to put it in the tip jar and share it with her colleagues, that was her business. 

People are grateful to know you. 

She was a fool, and Tommy couldn’t change that, but at least today he had made sure her words didn’t make her a liar. 

~

It kept raining all through the day, and into the late afternoon, through phone calls and meetings, through Michael throwing a fit and Polly being unreachable, through everything. 

“Tommy,”, Lizzie said, popping her head in through the tinted glass doors, “there’s a woman at the front desk to see you.”

“What woman?”, he asked, taking off his glasses.

“Some girl. She has something for you, something you lost and she refuses to give it to the security.”

Fucking really? 

Lizzie only shrugged. 

“She says its important. They’ve checked her. No weapons. She says she’s fine waiting downstairs until you come down.”

He had half a mind to test that theory, but then he shook his head. 

“Send her up then.”, he muttered. The only thing less appealing to him than having to deal with some stranger was having to deal with some stranger after a long day’s work. 

Five minutes later Lizzie came in again. 

“I can’t send her in here, Tommy - she’s soaking. It’ll ruin the floors.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his strength before getting up to Lizzie’s office.

It took him a moment to notice her without her hat and apron, but her smile gave her away. 

“Hi, so sorry for disturbing-”, she began. “I’ll be right off, I promise, but ah - you made a little mistake earlier.”

She really was soaking, from head to toe drenched and dripping, her clothes clinging to her skin. Still, she smiled. 

“What?”, he asked in utter disbelief. 

Reaching into her back pocket she took out the folded Euro bills he had passed her hours earlier. 

“You always give my five quid - so maybe you got the colours mixed up cause this one’s green too.”

She bit her lip in embarrassment as she handed out the bills to him. Each and every one, green, yellow and purple. 

“So yeah - this is yours.”

He only stared at her in disbelief. 

“Are you for real?”, he demanded to know.

“Yeah.”, she said immediately. “I mean, I’d like to think I’m good at my job, but I’m not - three thousand six hundred and seventy five Euros good at my job.”

When he didn’t take the money, she put it on Lizzie’s desk who was watching the interaction with wide eyes from the window. 

“Nothing we got is that good, not even the blueberry muffins.”

Tommy only stared at her. 

“Anyway, that’s all.”

She was already halfway out of Lizzie’s office, her worn Converse making squelching sounds on the floor, when Tommy called her back.

“That money was for you.”, he insisted. 

She stared at him with wide eyes.

“Oh but that’s a bit much.”

“So?”

She shook her head. 

“Well, it's too much.”

If he thought her a fool before, he considered her little more than an idiot now. 

When his disbelief kept rendering him speechless she spoke up again.

“Why don’t you put it into your charity? They’ve got a lot of flyers in the lobby and the kids probably really need it. I’ll be alright.”

Lizzie gave him a look which he tried painfully to ignore. 

“I really need to go now.”, she said with an apologetic smile, “sorry for interrupting and sorry about getting the floor all wet.”

“Can I ask you something?”, Tommy asked.

“Sure.”

“Why do you always have to smile?”

She tilted her head and frowned, but then - oh wonder - she smiled. 

“I read somewhere once about a man who wanted to kill himself - wanted to jump off of the Golden Gate bridge or something and was already on the way up but he didn’t do it ‘cause someone walked by him and wished him a good day and smiled at him. Made his day and saved his life.”

She shrugged.

“Don’t know if it’s true, but you never know I guess. Anyway, I really have to go or else you’ll have a proper puddle to remember me by.”

With that, she turned and opened the door.

“Have a great day!”, she chirped, the way she always did when he drove off, only this time it was her who was leaving. 

The End

~

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed and as always I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Taglist

Overall

@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @chlorrox @watercolorskyy @books-livre @quarterpastmidnight  @lilyevanswhore  @polishcrazyone  @zablife  @just-a-harmless-patato  @stevie75 @flyingjosephine-blog @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick

Tommy

@knowledgefulbutterfly @babayaga67 @signorellisantichrist @lespendy @geeksareunique @look-at-the-soul

[zablife]

Family Ties Moodboard

Created for @peakyscillian and her amazing series Family Ties for her 1.5K celebration. Congrats, darl! 💕

[look-at-the-soul]

Endless love

(Modern) Tommy Shelby x reader

✨ I wrote this for @justrainandcoffee Alfieversary! My dearest Flor who knew fanfiction and Peaky Blinders would cross our paths! Thank you for always being so kind and generous-and talented!-, becoming mutuals here for a short time and somehow it feels as if we knew each other in person. Cheers to many, many more Alfieversaries!

Summary: Y/N is “forced” to leave her husband and baby for the weekend, so join Tommy to sort parenthood by himself for a couple of days. How will he deal with everything? Including a fussy baby.

Word count: 2.5K

A/N: we know I try to make moodboards right? 🤭

“Okay, erm so there’s milk storage enough.” Y/N mumbled, taking one more look around the bedroom. “Emma’s nappies are in the first drawer, keep her bunny close to-“

“Her face, I know.” Tommy produced a small chuckle, trying hard not to roll his eyes as he had already heard his wife’s instructions for almost a week. “Love, just leave that there, take a deep breath and have a margarita for me, we’ll be fine.”

Looking down at his six-month old he found her big beautiful eyes staring at him.

Y/N blinked nervously, this was the first trip away from Emma, it’s was a natural thing to be nervous.

“I can’t drink a margarita, remember?” She pointed at her breasts for a clearer message. Although she really wanted one.

This was actually her first real going out in a long time, somehow her life had been turned upside down full of baby trips to the doctor’s appointments, quick trips to get the groceries, restless nights of feedings. Thats why when Tommy insisted she should make the trip with Rose and the girls, she thought it would be a good idea to have a little time to herself.

But suddenly, her phone started ringing and loads of messages arrived simultaneously.

“Are you su-“

Tommy cut his wife’s words. “Yes, now go before Rose comes up to take you.”

Y/N gave Tommy a worried look, she couldn’t help it.

“Say goodbye to mama,” he waved Emma’s little hand. “Buh-bye mam!” He imitated a childish voice.

Y/N felt her heart clenching inside her chest when she kissed her daughter’s chubby cheeks.

“If you need anything just call and I’ll be back.” She rushed to say before kissing Tommy’s lips. Stepping out of their home, she blew them a kiss.

Tommy finally felt confident enough to release the air he had been holding. He was beyond nervous for not having his wife around whilst taking care of their baby, he was actually panicking to do anything wrong.

As Tommy closed the door he saw Emma’s lip quiver and a second later, she let out a big cry.

“Oh no, no darling don’t cry.” Tommy tried to soothe her. Small legs kicking with such force that made him think of a small tornado. “It’s alright, mama will be back in a couple of days…” he mumbled tried to get his daughter to settle.

His phone started buzzing in his pocket, he tried to rock Emma, but her cries became louder. Pressing the green button so fast that he didn’t look at the name on the screen.

“‘Lo?”

“Is Emma alright? I heard her crying.”

Tommy gasped. “Yes, of course, it’s the television… there’s a baby crying.” He lied.

He noticed Y/N’s hesitation so he rushed to assure her everything was fine and encouraged her to have a great time with her friends. Then, Tommy searched the channel with calm music Y/N used to rock Emma to sleep, in an attempt to settle his baby.

“How can a little thing like you cry so loud?” Tommy sighed defeated. He was one step from giving up. “I don’t know how your mama does it.”

He had tried everything, absolutely everything. And nothing seemed to work.

Was his baby sick? Hurting?

“What is it baby girl?” He wiped away the tears from her eyes, long lashes wet, chubby cheeks red from the intensity of her cries.

A sudden flashback appeared on his mind and with long strides, he walked into their bedroom hoping to find Emma’s bunny in its place. It had been a birth gift by Rose, and his daughter didn’t seem to like anything else.

“Look… here’s your bunny.” He tried tickling her cheeks. “And let’s take Mummy’s blanket alright?”

Tommy felt on the brick of desperation, was he really a useless father? One who couldn’t make his daughter stop crying?

His heart was aching.

Tommy wondered how would they survive for the entire weekend without Y/N. He started seriously doubting his parental skills in that moment.

Wrapping his baby in Y/N’s blanket seemed to bring some comfort for his baby. Groaning he covered his face with one of the thin cloths they used to go outside, it was small piece that only covered his features partially but then he heard a small giggle and a raspberry from Emma.

Startled, he removed the sheet from his face and looked down at what was making her giggle.

“You liked your silly daddy?” He asked mimicking a ridiculous voice.

He tried the trick once more.

And to his surprise, Emma giggled again, there was a bit of droll on her chin, big blue eyes sparkling just for him.

“You like Mr. Napkin?!” He asked in disbelief. “Yes you do!”

Getting up, he got a larger napkin from the kitchen and after covering his face again, but he added his glasses.

“Mr. Napkin needs help to see.” He repeated what it seemed like the best acting performance ever. “Oh! I see a beautiful happy little girl.” He turned to face his baby laying in one of his arms.

Emma laughed uncontrollably and kicked her legs happily.

“You know what? Mr. Napkin needs a smoke.” He announced, producing a cigarette from its case. But once he added it to his performance, he noticed a small pout. “Oh no, no… that’s a bad habit, don’t do it.”

Once he got his little girl to settle again, he sighed relieved when he saw the big yawn she offered.

“Mr. Napkin would like a nap too.”

But before he could close his eyes, his phone started ringing and the sound woke his daughter up.

“Shit. Alfie what do you want?”

“Just making sure you’re in one piece still… heard the Misus are having the time of their lives.” Alfie announced.

“I know you’re miserable when Rose is away, but I’m busy here mate.”

“That’s exactly why I was calling, to offer some child support.”

Tommy snorted. “Alfie the last thing I want is you taking care of my daughter.”

Alfie didn’t took that personally, he knew as a matter of fact that he had the opposite effect in Tommy’s daughter. “When will you finally admit your daughter likes me?”

“She likes pulling at you beard and your dog.”

“Look we both know you’re going to make the girls come back earlier from their trip and the least thing I need is having Rosie mad at me at your fault, so meet me and Cyril at the beach.”

“That sounds like an awful idea.”

“See ya.”

The actual plan worked like wonders, Emma was thrilled to spend time with Cyril, because being honest, he got all protective over Emma, and despite his size he acted like a cotton ball, bringing her sticks. But Tommy wasn’t going to admit that out loud.

Of course Alfie teased him endlessly for acting over protective towards the baby just because he made sure his daughter wouldn’t suffer damage from the sun. Or any kind of damage for that matter.

“What are cha gonna do when your little pumpkin starts messing around with boys and-“

Tommy gave him a death stare.

“Wha? You can’t keep her locked mate…” Alfie pointed out as the girl grabbed some sand in her small fist.

“That’s not going to happen.” Tommy answered with a clenched jaw.

Just the mere thought of it, made his insides twist.

And to Alfie, to have the chance to tease Tommy it was like the cherry on top, it was something he wasn’t going to let it pass.

By the time they went back to their apartment, Emma was sound asleep in the back seat.

After changing his baby girl into a pajama set, Tommy walked around the place to set the alarm and taking the remote, he turned off the lights.

To his surprise, he got a message from his wife.

Missing you both like crazy! xx

We missed you too, Emma was thrilled to take a little trip to the beach xx - he replied.

Almost immediately, his phone started ringing and the photo of his wife holding their baby appeared on the screen.

“I know I said I wasn’t going to disturb you, but…” her sweet voice made him smile.

“‘S alright, I was just getting ready to sleep.”

“But it’s still early.” Y/N pointed out turning around to look the hour.

“I am exhausted.” He dragged the words.

Turning the call into video, Y/N noticed the bags under his eyes. The dim light cascading over his cheekbones.

“Looks like someone’s having the time of her life.” He complimented.

“We had a massage and I ordered a virgin cocktail.”

Tommy shook his head. “No booze? What’s the fun in that?”

“Stop temping me.” Y/N pouted. “I’ll let you’ve some rest, tomorrow it’s going to be a long day.”

Tommy yawned and wished his wife a good night.

****

A babbling sound make him open his eyes asTommy tried to fix his blurred vision.

Groaning, he got up. “Morning, sunshine.” He kissed the top of her head as he pulled her against his chest and went back to bed.

Instinctively, Emma started nibbling his nipple.

“Oh sweetie, you won’t find anything there.” Tommy explained with a chuckle.

But Emma wasn’t in the mood and a round of loud cries started right away.

“I get it, the milk provider is moving right away, give me a sec.” He got up and carried his baby towards the kitchen, to prepare the bottle for her. A few minutes later, Emma was sucking happily.

“Such a drama queen eh?” He stared at her soft features. Wondering what life had in store for her. “What do you wanna do today? We can go to the park, or the pub bet your uncles would love to see you.” He proposed as his baby was focused on her milk. That way he could get some help because everyone in his family adored his daughter.

Despite his wealth, Y/N refused hiring a nanny. She was adamant to be in charge of everything related to their daughter. And being completely honest with himself, he was grateful for being able to spend quality time with his first born, Y/N deserved all the credit for that, she helped him feel comfortable by giving his daughter a warm bath and helping as much as he could, being a present father.

She had already threatened him to include a hairstyle masterclass so he could learn to do braids and pigtails.

After a quick bath for him and another one for his daughter. He felt proud of managing to put an asthetic outfit for Emma, he actually went safe with clear colors God forbid that one time he changed her into a set that didn’t match, Y/N scolded and teased him endlessly. As Tommy was looking in one of the drawers for a clean sheet so he could place his baby on the floor, he found a small box where Y/N kept a bunch of things she said that were useless but you might need some day. The thought made him chuckle, but a sharp movement opened the lid and its content fell to the floor.

That’s when he saw something that caught his attention.

A playful smile spread on his lips and he rushed to the living room to set everything.

It took him a while to carry on with his idea, but once he was finished, he stood there proudly to admire his creation, the smile on his daughter’s face told him he did a good job. Oh, the things he’d do for that little Miss Sunshine. She had him wrapped around her little finger.

Snapping a photo, he pressed a few buttons to send it to his wife.

“What is that?!” Y/N asked raising her voice, excitement was evident.

Tommy’s chest expanded proudly as he looked at his mini-me in awe. “She’s being giggling nonstop.”

“This is the best idea ever!” Y/N sounded surprised, so he was still able to be one step ahead.

“Cheapest trick to keep her busy.” Tommy added, sending the photo to the Shelby’s chat group.

“I can’t wait to go back home.” He knew being away wasn’t easy for her, specially because she was so attached to Emma.

“The day will fly by and you’ll be back before you know it.” He tried to cheer her up. His eyes darting back to his daughter, still amazed by the balloons.

“Look at you, I leave you for a couple of days and you win the award parent of the year.”

“That’s what you get for abandoning us.” He joked.

“Hey!” Tommy heard Rose’s voice in the background. “Only emergencies! Is Tommy missing an arm?” He heard some weird noise and then she spoke clearly. “I hope you’re taking good care of Emma.”

“Of course.” He wasn’t sure if he should be more scared of his wife or Rose.

“Good, then were stealing your wife for another day and we’re already planning the next trip.” She warned, and this time around, it was Y/N turn in the background saying that she didn’t want to be away from her daughter again.

“Have a fabulous day, I gotta change a stinky nappy.”

Ending the call, he decided to order some food, the last thing on his mind at the moment was to prepare something. At least he got a great deal by keeping his daughter busy with the balloons and that granted him a few minutes to stand outside in the balcony to smoke a cigarette while keeping an eye on his baby.

And the rest of his day went just like that between naps, babbling and the little sounds his daughter made. Later he’d pick a book to read to her.

****

Sunday finally arrived and after driving for a couple of hours, the girls left her by the apartment lobby first, so she made the trip to her floor quietly and since she didn’t tell Tommy what time they were coming back, she took the chance to surprise him.

He didn’t know, but she had been watching him in the baby monitor app on her phone. As a matter of fact her heart felt full last night when she realized her baby wouldn’t settle and after a couple of minutes, she saw Tommy getting up from the bed and climbing the crib -big enough to fit him-, to sleep with his baby.

She knew he was the best father their daughter could have.

And another proof was that moment while he was feeding Emma and he started singing a Romani song and ever so gently he explained their baby he came from gypsies and she too, had gypsy blood running in her veins. Y/N wanted to bottle the two of them along with those moments that made her confirm her deep love for that man.

But Y/N was the surprised one when she stepped into her apartment and found Tommy sleeping on the couch with Emma lying on his chest fast asleep, his arm wrapped around her back protectively. Her small hand closed in a tight fist over her bunny’s ear.

The image was instantly tattooed in her heart as a lifetime memory.

And she knew, her heart was full and that this was an endless love.

Master list

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this, remember your feedback is always the way to a writer’s heart ♥️✨

Oh! I almost forgot.. Mr Napkin inspiration 👇🏻👇🏻

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @onlydeadcells @gretelshelby @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @elk96 @blondie-22 @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @kmc1989 @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @lauren-raines-x @everythingelseisextra @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @lau219 @red-riding-wood

[cod-dump]

Brother (teen!ghost au)

———

Teen!Gaz: *minding his busy in class*

Teen!Soap: *pops up from the floor beside him*

Teen!Soap: KYLE

Teen!Gaz: *screams and throws his pencil*

Teacher: Mr. Price! This is study hall, not recess! Keep it down!

Teen!Gaz: Sorry, Miss G… *whispering* What the fuck, Johnny?!

Teen!Soap, sliding into the desk in front of Teen!Gaz: Who was that guy at your house yesterday?! He looked like Simon but had dark hair!

Teen!Gaz: … were you watching us-?

Teen!Soap: Doesn’t matter- Who was that?!

Teen!Gaz: That was Tommy, Si’s bio brother. He comes over sometimes to spend time with Si

Teen!Soap: His bio brother? They’re in contact?

Teen!Gaz: Yea. Si still talks with his mom, too. They come over for holidays

Teen!Soap: Whoa… I didn’t know any of that. I didn’t even know he had a relationship with his bio family

Teen!Gaz: Only with his brother and mom. Everyone else is, uh, not worth his time… Tommy will be here for the weekend… if you wanna meet him

Teen!Soap: Would that be okay?

Teen!Gaz: Eh, bring Kim with you and we’ll have a sleepover. Dad won’t care and Tommy is pretty chill and won’t mind. Gotta have a good relationship with the in-laws

Teen!Soap: K-Kyle-!

Teen!Gaz: *laughs*

Teacher: Boys! Keep it down!

[captain-mj]

Bro you cannot just drop prep/jock soap and goth ghost and dip. We need you to give us your brain worms so we can analyze it like a science project

When you have time of course

I will put my worms in a petri dish for you

Soap was an artist! He liked sketching and painting and the act of making art. But he didn't like art essays. The explaining over and over again each detail. Breaking down everything until it felt like a bunch of paint strokes instead of art.

But part of an art degree is a ton of art essays. So Soap went to the museum to write what he needed. He preferred museums to finding art online. A big part of art for him was texture. His preference would've been to touch the art, to feel the paint underneath his fingers. But the assignment specified art from the Baroque period and therefore they had to be older and no museum was going to allow his grubby hands to touch the art.

Soap glanced down one of halls to see if there was anything interesting there when he faltered.

Oh lord.

The man was big. His shoulders. His height. The thighs he had that looked like tree trunks. It was all covered in tight black fabric and silver chains. A work of bloody art himself.

Soap had to hold himself back from wolf whistling.

Once he was done objectifying admiring the man's body, he looked higher up. There was a mask covering the bottom of his face, the only thing visible being his eyes which had heavy eyeliner on them. He could still see the locs of bleached blond hair that surrounded him like a halo.

Soap wanted to paint him.

"You gonna stare all day?" Someone snarked at him and he jumped, glancing at a slightly smaller blond man. He looked at him like he was gross and for a brief moment, he worried he might be about to be hate crimed. The man looked a lot the other one actually now that he was looking closer. Dressed the same way too.

"Aye, what's your fucking problem with it?"

The man's face scrunched. "Ew." He walked away, leaving Soap rather confused but now a bit determined to talk to mystery man.

Pretending to be looking through the paintings, he got closer to him.

Dark brown eyes quickly glanced over at him before glancing back at the paintings.

"Hey. My name is Soap."

"Ghost."

Ooh, he's from Manchester and sticks with his aesthetic. Nice. He'd prefer a not British person, but as far as British people go, he could do worse than Manchester. He glanced at the painting Simon had been admiring.

The Raising of Lazarus by Rembrandt.

"It's a lovely painting." Soap put on his normal charm, acting suave and polite.

"Aye." Ghost gruffed and went quiet again, staring in simple contemplation. His arms were crossed, making already large arms flex.

Soap started to take notes for his assignment. Although he was definitely hoping to score well in more than one ways, he did need to take notes for his assignment.

Ghost glanced over at what he was writing quizzically and Soap answered the unasked question. "I'm doing a project."

"Fun." He huffed and looked back at the painting.

Soap looked down at his chest and licked his hips. "Yeah, it's a good one." He kept writing stuff. "You a college student?"

"Yeah."

"What do you study?"

"Forensics. I'm assuming you're art?"

"Chemistry with a minor in art!" Right as Soap went to mention how funny it was that they didn't share any classes, Ghost interrupted him.

"Wait. Johnny? Johnny MacTavish? We share several classes."

Soap brightened. "Do you dress like this all the time?" There was zero chance he did or Soap would already know his name, address and dick size.

"We have morning classes together. I don't dress up for morning classes." Ghost said decisively. He stretched and shook his head.

How did he manage to not notice the shoulders though at least? The man was huge. He was also several inches taller than Soap and therefore the majority of the class. Maybe if he sat in the back and left later than everyone?

Soap nodded. "Understandable. You look nice."

"Nice huh?" Ghost smiled at him. He could tell cause his eyes scrunched slightly.

"Yeah. Nice." Soap said softly, his chest doing something weird.

They stared at the painting a while before Ghost pulled away to start exploring the rest of the exhibit.

Soap finished up the notes he needed to write his paper and then started to walk with him. He tried to find his opening during all of this.

Ghost stopped at a very specific painting.

ARTEMESIA GENTILESCHI, JUDITH SLAYING HOLOFERNES, C. 1612–1613

The art was... stunning. The red, faded from time and wear, was still beautiful against the white of the blankets.

The women held him down and there was a movement to it that Soap wanted in his own work. His fingers trembled with the want to touch it. To feel the texture of the paint under his fingers. Ridges and bumps and smooth layers of the different strokes.

Ghost hummed. "I don't really get art. It's pretty but some people look at it and it... gives them something. An epiphany."

Soap hummed. "I find touching it helps."

Ghost looked at him, raking his eyes over him. "I see. Do you want to head out then?"

Soap frowned. "Why?"

"You're a piece of art and I'm looking for an epiphany."

[sp0o0kylights]

I started writing an enemies to lovers Steddie fic that starts off as Tommy/Steve/Carol with this prompt except Im tired and I lost the plot lmao so instead let me float the images of:

Modern college town AU featuring frat president Steve, who's been convinced no one will ever really love him by his parents, his past relationships, and Tommy & Carol. The latter not only "date" him but regularly use him and his money by utilizing his self worth issues against him.

Hes barely scrapping by in class, kind of wants to pick up a side job to get out from under his parents financial thumb, and enjoys talking shit with his sort of new friend Robin at a retro vinyl store, but with Tommy and Carol reporting back to his parents/the frat he's not able to take up Robin's offer to work there with her.

The frat keeps him busy the rest of the time--he's a legacy, and several members are deeply entrenched into a competition against the other fraternities that frequently cause problems on campus due to their pranks, parties and general bullshit. Steve has to run shoulders with the college Dean and such a LOT to peace keep.

Eddie works at the major game shop across the road from the vinyl place, which helps pay for the automotive program he's in part time at the college. He runs all the D&D campaigns, including several for adults and kids. A lot of the events he tries to get going on campus get shut down as the school and police target him and the "scary kids" in a show of misdirected anger at the frats they can't touch without risk of losing out on their parents money.

Eddies particularly pissed at Steve after an infamous incident involving Eddie spearheading a pokemon go event that came into contact with some kind of frat beer run, which led to Eddie being wrongfully arrested.

Their enemies piece began with Eddie storming into Steve's frat, demanding he do something as he's one of the more influential presidents and Steve, goaded on by Tommy and Carol, refusing.

This is further cemented when Eddie finds out one of his favorite high school players, Dustin, is close with Steve and defends him constantly, refusing to elaborate much when pressed other than to tell Eddie that Steve used to watch Dustin a lot as a babysitting gig and he's a "really good guy under all the frat shit Eddie, seriously."

(Dustin does not elaborate that his mother was on the PTA with Steve's mother and that she clocked his parents abuse, and used the babysitting angle to get Steve out of that house as a kid, and Steve sees Ma Henderson more as a proper parental figure than his own parents.)

Throw in some light sub/dom dynamics, Eddie breaking into Steve's room as revenge only to overhear Tommy and Carol being downright vicious to him, and a "who did this to you" crying in the rain scene before the prompt line finally kicks in.

I wanted Tommy and Carol to be fucking gagging crying throwing up furious when Steve finally blows it all up, and for the fallout to be so insane for Steve that he ends up either starting his own frat with Eddie or throwing away his title entirely and having several of the not shit frat boys follow him out.