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hewhofightsbythesword · 3 years

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precious cargo: part two - thomas shelby x Hispanic reader

“Family meeting. Now.” Thomas Shelby called out as he entered the Garrison’s snug.

At the sound of this voice, Aunt Polly could tell her nephew was once again up to no good. But then again when was he not? “Thomas Shelby has had an idea once again. Watch out.”

“Tommy, I’m not doing that again. I will not be made a fool for you. I said the last time was the last time and I meant it,” Finn stood his ground prematurely.

Ada scrunched her eyebrows in confusion. “Jesus Christ, Thomas. What the hell are you doing to our poor Finn?”

“What? No, not that,” Tommy waves off the youngest Shelby brother. “I’ve received a call all the way from America.”

“What the fuck do the Americans want from us, brother? What did you do?” Arthur accuses.

Tommy stands up and rubs his eyes in frustration. “Everyone fucking listen to me. No more interruptions. The sooner we get started, the sooner we can end this family meeting.” Silence filled in the room for a few seconds. “Now, as I was saying: I got a call from America, but it wasn’t the Americans. The Mexican mafia called, and they’re calling in a favor.” A big fucking favor, Thomas thinks to himself.

“You are just the gift that keeps on giving. First the Russians and now the Mexicans.” Polly shakes her head.

“What do we know about them? Can we even trust them?” Arthur asks.

Thomas ignores his aunt. “The Mexican mafia is ruled by the y/l/n family. They go by la familia. Recently, they started several expansions into America. The Don’s people called me some nights ago about his daughter, y/n.”

“y/n y/l/n. I know her,” Michael says.

Tommy doesn’t bother to look at his cousin, slightly annoyed he knew more than he did. “And what is it that our Michael knows that we don’t, eh?” Thomas keeps a stoic stare at the wall in front of him.

“We met during one of my business trips to New York. She recognized our name, said her family owned some businesses near the ones we do. We never kept in touch, but I’ve heard stories about her.”

“What kind of stories?” Ada asked, half afraid for the answer. Just like everyone else in the room, she knew how much her big brother could never resist a challenge that guaranteed some danger. Add in a pretty face and Thomas was lost.

“I hear she’s taking over after Don, not the eldest brother, Santiago.” Arthur feeling this Santiago’s pain from an ocean away stood to pour himself a drink in hopes to mask his suffering.

“And you know what, Tommy?” Michael continued to press him, “She reminded me of you.”

“That’s enough.” Polly places a hand on her son’s shoulder. “Go on, Thomas.”

“She had a run in with some Italians in New York, more specifically Enzo Changretta.” The atmosphere in the room stiffens. “She alone has received the black hand and needs protection.”

“Why have these meetings if you already very clearly have made up your mind?” Polly spits.

“So I can say to all of you that y/n y/l/n is on her way as we speak.” Sounds of disapproval rang out through the snug.

“Fuck, Tommy. This isn’t some backstreet gang. It's the Changretta's. Look around you. John is not here. Michael almost died. You almost died. What can the Mexicans do for us that we can’t already do for ourselves?” The voice of reason called out.

“I have me reasons.” He takes a heavy drag from his cigarette.

“And of course you won’t share what any of them are with any of us.” Ada crosses her arms against her chest.

“La familia are not the kind of people we want to owe favors to, Polly,” he points to her, “It’s better if they owe us. If they owe us, we control the narrative and we have ourselves a new ally. As we all know, allies come in short supply these days.”

“And?” Polly eggs on.

“And they’re fucking rich.” Michael reveals before Tommy can.

“And they’re fucking rich,” Tommy echos, “The y/l/n’s own the majority of their country’s petroleum businesses. They help supply America, except the Italians are now threatened.”

“Who the hell made it your job to play the middleman?”

“It is not my job. It is our investment.” Thomas, having enough of his family’s obvious disapproval, stands up to leave for the night. “y/n y/l/n is coming and we will all protect our investment.”

Over the next few days, all Tommy could think about was you and about your family. He wondered how you would look, how you would talk. Were you any different from the few Americans he has met? Thomas does not recall a time he has met someone from Mexico. You were obviously smart; smart enough to move large amounts of petroleum from your home country to America. His sources told him it was all your doing, all your strategy. He couldn’t help but to think if perhaps Michael was right. Was there some truth to his teasing? She reminded me of you, he remembers.

And of course Thomas Shelby wouldn’t be Thomas Shelby if he didn’t entertain the idea of the y/l/n’s making up a story to take his ever-growing empire. The chances were low, sure, but not zero.

Thankfully Tommy no longer had to torture his mind with any more questions and hypothetical situations about his soon-to-be visitor. Today was the day y/n arrived in Birmingham. His men would be there for your arrival so that they could escort you to Arrow House. Tommy figured only the best for his best investment.

Upon your arrival, the first thing Tommy Shelby noticed about you was your demeanor. You walked in his home with your head high and squared back shoulders. There was not a single trace of worry or fear coming from your face, at least none Tommy could clock. Anyone who could see you would not know there was a mafia hit on your head. But then again, they would also not know you were soon to head your own mafia. When he first heard of you, he didn’t know you were rich. When he did know, he didn’t know exactly by how much. Standing before him, all Tommy knew was y/n y/l/n was rich by a fuck ton. That was just the immediate aura you gave off.

Maids automatically surrounded you, taking your luggage and coat. Even through the crowd surrounding you, your eyes could be found fixating one thing only. Blue. So much fucking blue, you think to yourself. Your eyes never left who you could only assume was Thomas Shelby. And you knew you would not get far in this unfamiliar country with only assumptions. As soon as the crowd cleared up, you decided to take initiative.

“Hello, you must be Thomas Shelby. I’m y/n y/l/n.” He shakes your outreached hand.

“Please, call me Tommy.” His deep voice rings out, demanding to be heard as always.

“Tommy,” you say, trying out the name on your tongue. Tommy kept his eyes on you and no other words were exchanged, a comfortable silence falling upon the two strangers. “Tommy?”

“Yes?” He manages to croak out.

“Do you think I could have my hand back?” Tommy still enveloped his rather large hand in your small one.

Quickly, he drops your hand in embarrassment as if he had just been burned. Tommy couldn’t help but notice the warmth of your palm leaving him rather fast. He has met many rich people. Too many, his Aunt polly would say. But none like him. None like you.

“Why don’t we go to my office and have a drink. We can talk there.”

Tommy wasn’t one to show any facial expressions, you soon realize, but it was all in his words. It was in that moment you knew Tommy Shelby didn’t like to ask for things, even as simple as a drink. He demanded. In your world full of coke, guns, and sicarios, you were used to being the one to make the demands. Given almost any other circumstance, you would have taken action against it, but not now. Not to Tommy. All your feet could do was follow him.

“Tell me everything leading to the black hand.” He demands again as he hands you a glass of whiskey. “What do the Italians want with you other than have you dead?”

“They want what’s mine,” you simply say as you hand him the black hand letter.

“The petroleum businesses?” He asks. His eyes skim over Enzo’s signature.

“That’s not all. We also deal guns in large quantities to our allies. For the past year or so we’ve moved both the legal and illegal side of our businesses to America. We cross state lines where the Italians reside. At first, we were warned. Didn’t listen. They tried to rough up a few of my men. Didn’t work. None of it will work,” you say that last part a little more to yourself than Tommy.

There was something eerie about receiving the black hand. To you, it was all bad vibes. It was the malo ojo. It carried evil energy and a haunting presence. This was something Tommy knew too. Although he would have different opinions on what it carried, it was all the same feeling in the end: eery.

“Are you armed?” He goes to reach for one of his cabinets behind his desk.

“No, I have men for that. The sicarios do the killing.” He slides the gun across the desk. All you could do was stare at the weapon and so could Tommy. His eyes would switch to the gun, then to you, then back to the untouched gun. “We’re living in modern times, Tommy.”

“You are free to conduct the appropriate business here as long as you have that gun and my men too.”

“I just said I have my own men. I don’t need your Peaky boys following me too. Thomas, it was never about your protection.”

Tommy’s eyebrow slightly rises, starting to feel irritated. The motive was now clear to Tommy. It was never about the Peaky Blinders protection but about the land. The y/l/n’s had the potential of being a superpower to the world because of their oil. If they really wanted to, they could knock a few Italian heads on the way. They just couldn’t do it in America. The American government was so different and so were its people.

The Yankees still believed in their government and what was right and what was wrong. And killing was wrong. The Mexicans were too gruesome, too brutal. All you and your family wanted to do was eliminate the threat, and its name was Enzo Changretta. Mexico would want the whole family, women and children alike. In Birmingham, the cops were dirty; all paid by and loyalty to Thomas Shelby. You knew the value of loyalty, thus you knew the value of Birmingham. It wasn’t a city. It was fucking empire, and in his empire killng was allowed.

“You want to draw them out and kill them on my land.”

You down your drink in one large sip, letting out a soft sigh. “Sometimes, Tommy,” so we’re back to Tommy, “killing is a kindness.”

Michael was wrong. y/n was not like Tommy Shelby. Right then and there, he decided you were an extension to himself. You were Tommy Shelby.

“You are still in clear danger.” He yells out to you as you leave his office and the gun behind.

“And I still prefer my bullets over your razor blades.”

It was never about your protection.

Tag List: @apollonshootafar

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #thomas shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby imagine

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sellyoursoulforagoodfic · 4 years

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Shelbys at Somme: Chapter 2

Thomas X Reader

4584

Summary: Reunions aren’t easy with dead people. Old feelings begin to stir in the privacy of The Garrison Pub but it’s hard to rebuild what time broke.

By: @adventuresintooblivion

Thomas groaned to himself. He’d been nursing a headache for the past three days since he’d asked Grace out to dance. He was pretty sure it was stress related, and the fact that he was witnessing Arthur get up in arms again only solidified the notion.

He was going on about retaliating against the police and being tired of all the harassment. Normally Thomas would agree, but something about this copper set him on edge and quite frankly this needed to be dealt with carefully. As he was leaning forward to voice his opinions, a loud banging startled the entirety of the Shlebys onto their feet.

“What in the blood blazes is that?” Arthur growled, his hand resting on a small pistol.

Danny’s muffled shouts filtered through the door, “Thomas she’s real this time! Get out here and see for yourself. She’s not a ghost.”

Aunt Pol’s eyes narrowed, “Isn’t that?”

Thomas waved her question aside , “I’ll handle this. John, brass knuckles on.”

A small flurry of activity happened over his shoulder as Thomas reached for the doorknob. Not much got Danny this worked up these days and even his affinity for chaos couldn’t handle everything Danny threw at him.

He swung the door open just as Danny’s hand was coming down to deliver another thunderous knock. It paused in the air mere inches from Thomas’ nose.

“Alright, what is it this time Danny.” Thomas’ voice was a bit gruffer than normal. While he hardly slept, it only seemed to be getting worse lately. Which probably also contributed to his throbbing headache. However even Thomas couldn’t deny that relief flooded him once he saw Danny’s ear splitting grin.

Danny practically shouted, “She’s back Thomas. Y/N was never dead, I...I found her on the street.”

Thomas felt his face fall, “Danny…”

That when he saw it. A mop of curls swiveling back and forth as the girl tucked under Danny’s arm tried to absorb her surroundings. Bullocks!

“Danny put her down for God’s sake.” Thomas reached out, prying the girl From Danny’s grip. “I’m so sorry miss. He was in the war, and he’s having a rough time of it.”

He had said the words a hundred times and a small part of him suspected he would say them a thousand more before his day came. But the thought went silent, along with a dozen others, as the girl righted herself and shoved her mass of curls out of her face. There before him stared back the wide eyes that haunted his dreams.

Thomas, no matter what happens, I want you to live. To go home to your Aunt Pol you’re always talking about. And raise those horses you love so much.

Only if you marry me.

“I… I know Thomas I was there.”

He barely heard the words. The whole world seemed to expand infinitely and then collapse all at once. Question after question assaulted him in a vain attempt to make some sense out of the impossibility before him.

Y/N was there, alive. She stood before him, not drained of color like it was in his dreams, with cheeks wind burned [is that what it’s called?] bright red. Small hands clutched an uncased violin. Eyes that sparkled even in the dimmest of light, searching for something in him he wasn’t sure he’d be able to give.

Thomas reached out, his fingertips barely brushing Y/N’s cheek. He didn’t know what he expected, but she didn’t pull away. When he came in contact with warm skin something inside him shattered. His world began to tilt and a small voice in the back of his head warned him he might faint. But he was Thomas Shelby, and Shelbys didn’t faint.

It wasn’t until Danny spoke that he realized he was shaking, “She’s real right? I...I didn’t grab some random girl off the street did I?”

“No, Danny.” Thomas’ voice was barely a whisper. “I see her too.”

A hand on his shoulder managed to drag Thomas back to earth, even if just a little.

Aunt Pol stood beside him, her eyes picking apart an untold story even as she spoke, “Thomas, I think you owe us an introduction to your friend here.”

Y/N glanced between the two. She had heard stories of Aunt Pol several times throughout her deployment and knew two things for certain. Aunt Pol respected a strong personality with conviction. However, there would be no disrespect shown towards her or her family and quite frankly Y/N had no idea what counted as disrespect here.

So she simply saluted, “Corporal Y/L/N. Reporting for duty.”

Aunt Pol raised her eyebrow, “You? A Corporal?”

“She served in the same company with Danny, Freddie, and I.” The words didn’t sound like they belonged to himself but Thomas didn’t see anyone else speak.

“How on earth did you convince anyone to let you join?” Aunt Pol stood a little straighter.

Y/N chuckled, “Oh, I absolutely fucked the physician.”

Arthur barking laughter suddenly filled the room, “Well I’ll be damned. Most people didn’t want to be there. I sure as hell know I didn’t. Why would you go and sneak in like that?”

“Well, we’ve all got idiot brothers to look after, so there’s that.” Y/N shrugged. Danny snickered over he should as Arthur’s face fell. Aunt Pol on the other hand was smiling.

Thomas glanced around, the situation having gotten quite out of control at this point, “Alright, either you two get in here or we need to go out there and quite frankly I’d rather have this conversation in here.”

Over the next several minutes Y/N told her story, or at least an abridged version of it. Of how she joined. Her job amongst Thomas’ company and her subsequent court martial when she was shot.

“And how is it you stand before us now instead of rotting away in some prison?” Aunt Pol had taken over the conversation. Or more accurately, interrogation.

Thomas was silently grateful that he wasn’t in charge for once. He was too shell-shocked to gather a single coherent thought let alone a line of questions that actually meant anything. Though there were those questions Aunt Pol didn’t ask. The more personal ones that burned his tongue even as he held it. But he would have for this what he forced himself to have in all things, patients.

“It was the price for my silence. It’s hard to convince the public they should support a war that irrevocably changes their lives on a good day. But how are you going to convince them you’re routing out German spies when they can’t even spot a woman right under their nose? It’d be a blow to their reputation they couldn’t afford to take.”

Aunt Pol’s eyes suddenly narrowed as she finally asked a question that had been eating at Thomas’ soul this whole time, “And you didn’t send a correspondence of any kind to inform your company that you were alive?”

Y/N looked down, “I sent several. Though after I didn’t hear back from anyone I suspected they weren’t getting through. I had to wait until everyone was out of an army camp at the very least, which meant the war had to end. And finding everyone afterwards? I’ve been traveling for almost a year now, and Danny is the first person I’ve bumped into.”

Thomas couldn’t look at her. All he could focus on were the grains on wood on the table. A part of him couldn’t quite wrap his head around that this was real.

A knock on the door suddenly broke the spell of hushed voices. Everyone glanced around before Danny reached behind him and cracked open the door. Grace stood there, two bottles on a tray full of glasses.

“H..Hello, I figured everyone could use some refreshments?”

Thomas’ eyes locked with hers. Something in his expression made Grace’s fragile smile fall. She knew something was wrong, but she had no idea just how sideways things had gone.

〜

Later that night, the Shelby family left the Garrison Pub, their new guest wrestling her luggage from Danny’s grasp.

Thomas glanced at Y/N. He’d barely said a word to her. He didn’t know what to say. But her easy smiles that she cast towards himself and Danny lifted a weight in his heart.

Finally he asked, “What are you doing tonight?”

She spun around, “Oh, well. I’ve got a job in a couple days at this fancy place. I was probably gonna go swindle a dress out of some high society idiot.”

A deep rumbling laughter escaped Thomas, “Grab a fancy cigar for me?”

“Always.” She waved as she disappeared into the night.

After she was gone Thomas glanced towards Aunt Pol, “So, what do you think?”

“I like her.”

〜

Later that night Grace slunk down the streets. She wore one of her better outfits but she still felt underdressed compared to the other patrons. This opera house meetup was Inspector Cambell’s idea. Grace wasn’t much of a fan. It was too open and while Thomas wasn’t inherently wealthy they didn’t know enough about him to guarantee he wouldn’t be here.

She let the concierge lead her to the booth. The whole conversation passed in a blur of nerves and paranoia.

Grace was so stressed had almost forgotten the entire reason she’d agreed to this, “I almost forgot. A new face has made an appearance. Danny Owen burst through the door carrying her under his arm and interrupted a family meeting. They were in there for a couple hours talking. I’m not sure what her name is but I’ll get that to you as soon as I can. Here's a sketch”

As she handed Inspector Campbell the small note the hairs stood up on the back of Grace’s neck as she spoke. She couldn’t stop herself from glancing around searching for a Peaky Blinder amongst the crowd. She didn’t see anyone. But that didn’t mean no one saw her.

Y/N leaned forward, her brow furrowed. Wasn’t that the barmaid from Thomas’s bar? And who was she talking to?

“Is everything ok?” the young man beside Y/N asked. His hand slid to her lower back, his fingertips brushing over the line her underwear created under the cloth.

Instead of slapping him Y/N flashed him her most charming smile, “It's nothing. You might want to keep your hands to yourself. The anticipation is part of the experience.”

He flashed her a wicked smile. Y/N silently debated on whether or not she should take all his money or simply steal his clothes while he was tied to a pole.

Y/N strolled home in the darkness of night. For such an industrious city, Birmingham was proving to be quite peaceful in the early hours of the morning. Nothing dared break the spell that had blanketed the region some time after midnight. Only the stars and mist were witness to her every step.

She silently congratulated herself on her new dress even as Y/N pulled her threadbare shawl closer around herself. She was in desperate need of several pieces of clothing. And housing. And food. As if on cue her stomach growled loud enough to nearly echo down the nearby alleyway.

Y/N glared down in the general direction, "Hush you."

Her words meant nothing in the face of hunger. It only gained power after she acknowledged its existence gnawing at her insistently. When Aunt Pol had been asking her questions earlier she'd answered them easily but they definitely danced around one of the most important ones. How long had she been in town?

The all too real answer was not long enough. Not long enough to find a job nor a place to stay. Currently her small pack of things were stashed in a hidey hole she'd carved out for herself the first night. Now all she had to do was make it all the way down there without ruining her dress.

Easy right?

She picked her way back carefully through the muddy streets. The air itself became cooler as she approached the river. The Cut, Thomas had called it back in the trenches. As the squat building that housed the Garrison Pub came into view she gave a soft sigh of relief.

While it was inconvenient to make it all the way back here from across town, she'd chosen to leave her stuff here because she was fairly certain she'd get it back even if it was stolen. Thomas just had that kind of way with people.

Unbidden, Y/N's mind slowly wandered back to their reunion this morning. She didn't know what she'd expected but that wasn't exactly it. She scowled at her own girlish inclinations.

She "died" in a man's arms and expected him to be completely fine with her showing up out of this air? Y/N's heart began to ache as she recalled the look Thomas had given her when he finally realized who it was. The pain that had etched itself deep into his features. The quiet resignation that came after dealing with heavy burdens day after day. Had her death done that to him? Or the war?

Again she kicked herself, the hubris she'd gained in the last three years sometimes even astounded her. Bending down to uncover her few possessions from behind a small mound of bricks.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't hear the footsteps coming up behind her.

"Out a bit late, aren't you?"

She yelped, spinning around to confront her attacker. The light cast a shadow over the slim figure of a man, the only illumination coming from his lit cigarette. Despite the years she could still recognize that silhouette anywhere.

"Thomas? What the hell are you doing up this time of night? Scaring the shit out of me no less?" She huffed indignantly.

He stepped forward in the pale moonlight raising an eyebrow as he closed the distance between them. His eyes lingered on her, moving up and down slowly.

While Y/N didn't like the scrutiny, she knew he needed this so she waited. After a few moments he held out his hand.

"Come on Y/L/N. You haven't eaten all day and Harry usually leaves a little something in the back for us. Just in case."

Y/N smiled, "Been following me Shelby?"

He nodded unashamed as he gripped her luggage, "Saw that pretty boy you snagged. Good mark. Good dress."

Y/N prayed to whatever god still existed that he couldn't see her cheeks flush. She took a deep breath to steady her voice, "Think I can catch a few more in it?"

Thomas chuckled as he unlocked the Garrison Pub, "Aunt Pol always assumed that it was the war that honed my conman skills. Should I tell her it was you instead?"

"Only if it gets me on her good side. Though I don't think that I've done anything that's so bad." Y/N let out a sigh of relief as they entered the shelter of the pub.

Her nose and cheeks had long ago turned numb in the chill of the night. Her shawl barely held enough body heat to keep her from shivering but stepping inside was like returning to a warm bed with a sleepy lover. A welcome distraction from the future.

Thomas continued, “Not so bad? You convinced a whole regiment that if they drank vinegar with their food it would turn them blond.”

Y/N leaned against the wall, “Commander Hopper said he needed to get rid of it.”

Thomas turned towards her with the smallest smile on his face. Something about him had changed between this afternoon and now. His posture was less rigid, his features less guarded. Then the light hit his eyes. His pupils were blown out so far there was almost no color left between them and the bloodshot whites of his eyes.

“You smuggled in a whole crate of wine, right under Hopper’s nose.”

Y/N stiffened as he approached, “It was Christmas.”

“You stole the Acquisition Officer’s boots, wore them around yourself until he replaced Jerimiah’s.”

“Now, he was just being a prick.” Y/N’s voice was barely a whisper as Thomas stopped barely an inch away.

His eyes were glazed over as they wandered over her features. Over and over they passed across the same area, an addled mind trying to remember every significant detail. The spell only came undone when he leaned forward to press his forehead against hers.

When he spoke again his voice was gravely, “If I kiss you will you taste like blood and dirt?”

“Thomas?”

“If I open my eyes again will your face be burned by the funeral pyre?” his voice cracked as he shuddered.

His hands were on either side of Y/N’s head, trapping her against his body. The heat that passed between them almost seemed to burn compared to the early autumn air outside. His body was a wall against hers, a bit softer than she remembered but that was probably due to the fact that he wasn’t being malnourished anymore.

Y/N knew she shouldn’t move right now. That she should let him overcome this on his own. It didn’t stop her from reaching up, letting her arms circle around him. “Thomas, it’s me. I’m here.”

His eyes slowly opened, traveling up her face, his jaw set in determination. Thomas shifted his weight, detaching one hand from the wall to cradle the back of her neck. Y/N froze at the gentle touch. Her skin was still cold beneath his fingers. His hot breath mingled with hers as the whole world came down to a single point.

“Say my name.”

“Wha… Tommy?"

His lips brushed against hers. So gentle it was as if Eurus himself had come down for a taste. Y/N gasped softly as she leaned just ever so slightly closer. That was all the hinting Thomas needed, his lips were suddenly crushed against hers. His hand tilting her head up just enough so he could taste her. His tongue brushed against her lips, asking for entry. Y/N answered by pressing her body against his, parting her lips.

Seconds later Thomas had her lifted into the air, his hands digging into her thighs as he pinned her against the wall. While he held her aloft, he wasn’t the one in control of the kiss. At some point Y/N returned the kiss. It was something wild born out of the fear and pain that had built up over the years.

It was a kiss that rent open the walls they’d built around themselves letting the shattered pieces of their souls lie bare for each other to see. It was need. It was desperation. It was a blossoming love stomped out by the heel of war.

After a long moment Y/N pulled away, gasping softly as he pressed his head into the curve of her shoulder. They stood there in the barest of light, catching their breath. Letting what had just happened sink in.

It was Thomas who broke the silence, “I...I guess you are real. FUCK.”

Fuck indeed.

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut fighting back the tears. The want for Thomas was still there demanding attention. Close proximity made it all the harder to stop. However, a familiar taste lingered on her lips now. Opium. She could not in good conscience keep on going.

She almost didn’t recognize her own voice as she spoke, “Thomas, can you put me down please?” She hated herself for sounding weak, but the day had been a long one and quite frankly she wasn’t sure how much more she could give it.

He nodded, setting her down gently and taking a step back. Allowing her the space she needed to collect her thoughts. Y/N pressed her lips together in an attempt to figure out what to say, but caught herself wincing. Somewhere in their heated exchange they’d become bruised and sensitive. Thomas instinctively reached out to brush his thumb across her lower lip. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her the entire time. “I..I’m sorry.” He took a deep breath before yanking back his hand like it was on fire, “I’m so sorry.” He spun on his heel suddenly stalking toward the bar, “I promised you food.”

“That’s really not-”

“If you tell me not to again I’ll just have to go buy you enough groceries for a whole month. Now go sit down; I’ll have it out in a moment.” He disappeared into a back room Y/N hadn’t noticed earlier.

Y/N didn’t trust herself to stand especially after all the physical activity for the day. She stretched slightly, testing out her muscles while keeping most of her weight against the wall. After a distinct lack of pain, she stood and slowly made her way to a nearby table. After sitting down she arranged herself in the way she knew created the least amount of stress on her limbs. She’d be damned if she kissed Thomas and collapsed on him in the same five minutes.

A soft hum wafted towards her accompanied by the smell of food heating in an oven. The tune was one she recognized from her time in the trenches. It was one she’d made up for her company to bolster their spirits on a particularly gruesome day. She was surprised that Thomas still sang it at all.

A few minutes later Thomas returned with a bowl of soup and a fresh chunk of bread. Y/N could practically feel her jaw drop.

She grasped the hot bowl that was thrusted at her hoping to warm her hands, “What the hell is all this?”

Thomas shrugged sitting opposite of her, “I can’t feed my friends?”

“Fresh loaves of bread that feel like they came out of the oven five minutes ago? You know how much I love bread; this isn’t just feeding your friends. It’s handing me tasty gold.”

A chuckle rumbled from deep within his chest. “It’s a secret from my mum’s side of the family. Besides Aunt Pol would have a fit if I handed you anything less.”

Y/N was about to dig in when she registered the fact that there was only one bowl. “Aren’t you having any?”

He shook his head. “I ate. Plus your stomach has been growling non stop since I brought that in here. I’m starting to get concerned that you haven’t eaten in days.”

Rather than confirm his suspicions Y/N shrugged and dug in. Though she still split the bread in half and handed it to him.

He gave her a reluctant smile and ate with her, occasionally dipping the bread in the soup.

When Y/N was done eating Thomas whisked away her bowl before she could even think to stand and take care of it herself. Upon returning he found her grabbing her luggage.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Y/N shrugged, “Dunno, but this is a pub not a hotel. I can’t stay here”

“Don’t you have a place to stay?”

Y/N paused. She didn’t know the area well enough to make something up so she just opted for the truth, “I haven’t been in town long enough to find anything. I had enough time to get my first job set up but Danny dragged me away from getting enough money for a hotel tonight.”

Thomas’s brow furrowed. “You don’t have money for a place yet.”

Y/N shook her head despite the fact that it wasn’t a question.

“Well I’m not letting you go out there in the cold if that’s what you’re thinking.” He crossed the space between them in a fraction of a second, pilfering Y/N luggage directly from her grasp.

Y/N lunged for her case, “Hey! What exactly do you plan on doing then? Taking me back to your room? Because I can tell you right now that’s not a good idea.”

He hefted the case into the air with little effort. “You’ll be staying here. There’s rooms upstairs.”

“I won’t be some charity case, Thomas Shelby.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it, Y/F/N.” He walked back towards the door he’d disappeared in earlier, but instead of going in he began jogging up a flight of stairs.

Y/N stared after him in mild horror. She really didn’t think she could handle stairs tonight, but what choice did she have? If she didn’t follow him he’d be back wondering what on earth was keeping her so long. So she walked over to the stairs, her back stiff but not protesting. She thanked the gods for small miracles and began to climb.

After a minute or two she crested the last flight, letting out a slow breath to ease the tension that had gathered along her spine on the way up. Thomas was down a skinny hallway fumbling with a set of keys.

He spoke at the door refusing to look at her more than he had to, “This whole floor is typically meant for employees, but Harry’s got a family and Grace has her own place. So you’ll more often than not have the whole floor to yourself. I do sleep here sometimes, but that’s few and far between.”

Y/N thought back to earlier that night, “Does Grace live with her parents?”

Thomas shrugged, not really paying attention, “I don’t think she has parents anymore.”

Y/N slowly closed the distance between them, Thomas’s antics becoming down right jittery as she got closer. Finally the door opened.

Inside was a small room with a full bed taking up most of the space. There were no blankets or sheets to be seen but the layer of dust on everything signaled that no one had lived here in a long while. Two small doors were the only things that interrupted the dull wooden walls.

“It’s perfect.” Y/N grinned.

He looked at her like she was crazy but instead of answering he set her luggage beside the bed along with her violin. He disappeared as she wandered in. The air was musty and everything needed cleaning but it was more than she’d hoped for when she had gotten onto the train headed for Birmingham.

Thomas reappeared a couple minutes later and threw a pillow and sheets onto the bed. With a flourish he wrapped the duvet around Y/N’s shoulders, getting a startled yell in return. He smiled fondly as she struggled with the mass of cloth, his features returning to normal as she emerged.

“This is all too much, Thomas. I..How much is the rent?”

He answered.

Her cheeks flushed, “That’s way too low, even for living on this side of town.”

Thomas shrugged, “I expect you to play on Saturdays. Grace requested we allow singing and I think using your violin to draw in the customers will more than make up for the discount.”

Y/N raised her eyebrow, “You didn’t allow singing? In a pub?”

He shrugged before handing her the key and turning to leave. He was almost to the top of the stairs when he stopped.

“Again, I’m sorry about tonight.”

Y/N barely heard him and honestly she wasn’t sure she was supposed to. She didn’t reply and instead went about making her new bed.

#thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinder imagine #shelbys at somme #adventuresintooblivion #tommy

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psycheswritings · 4 years

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Nothing’s Fair in Love and War - Four

Title: Nothing’s Fair in Love and War Fandom: Peaky Blinders Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Daphne Scott (OFC) Warnings: Swearing, I guess. Word Count: 4533 Author's Note: Hello again, hope you are all well. Here's the update, hope you all like it. Thanks for everybody reading and liking it, I really appreciate it. Honorary mentions to @livingmybestfakelife, @stressedandbandobessed7771 and @livvtheangel for commenting. Tags are at the bottom. As always, this haven’t been proofread, so feel free to report any mistakes back to me; warnings are expecific for each chapter. Also, your feedback is also highly appreciated. I relly hope you like this one. Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Daphne and Tommy share a moment alone at her birthday party and that leads him to get better acquaintance with some of her closest friends. The gangster has some unexpected meetings and receives a rather interesting invitation. Michael wants to take part in the family business, despite his mother’s disapproval. May Carleton goes to Birmingham to get Thomas’s horse and take a look at the betting shop. Aunt Polly has a little talk with her nephew about wanting things he shouldn’t want.

Four

They had sang Happy Birthday to her much to Daphne’s dismay, but it was worth it in the end because Karl had happily “helped” her blown out the candles, giggling all the time. She stayed and socialized with the guests for a bit until she made a very sneaky exit to the balcony on the side of the pub. Usually she would be the one waltzing around, making small talk with people and entertaining the guests, but today she wasn’t really feeling like it. Of course she appreciated Alfie’s gesture - he always tried to cheer her up on her birthday and she loved him for that, truthfully, but one can ignore the day you dread the most just for a certain amount of time.

The cold wind outside made her instantly regret not having grabbed her coat before leaving, but the perspective of going inside again didn’t appeal to her, so she just ignored the goosebumps. She let her eyes wonder to the street, observing a few people stumbling on the sidewalk before her already cold fingers searched for the locket hanging from her neck and nesting against her sternum. Daphne stroked the piece of metal with her thumb a few times, the material was warm against her skin, them she pulled it out of her neck and opened it.

There were two small black and white photographs inside – a young girl and a boy, their features were similar, yet different. You couldn’t tell by the image but they had the same hair color, his face was a little more angular than hers and his eyes from a darker shade of brown instead of the bright hazel of hers. Despite the fact that the photographs were in different sides of the locket, you could tell that they had been cut from the same image because they two seemed to be looking and smiling at each other. Daphne pressed her thumb in the boy’s picture, so absorbed in looking at it that she didn’t noticed she wasn’t alone anymore.

“You seem awfully unhappy for someone who has a whole party in her honor going on just inside.” A warm coat rested against her shoulders, she distinguished the smell of tobacco and whisky, mixed with a musky cologne that she did not quite recognized. Thomas noticed that she closed the locket before turning to face him, adjusting his jacket on her shoulders. The seemingly innocent and simple gesture of her adjusting a piece of clothing that belonged to him on her own body made something stir inside of him – some raw possessiveness that wanted to show the whole world that she belonged to him, even when he knew that it was far from the truth. Daphne seemed like the kind of woman who would never belong to nobody but herself.

“Let’s just say I’m not very prone to celebrate my birthday.” Her fingers rested on the collar of the jacket, the locket securely held between the fabric and her fingers. Thomas noticed that every time he had seen her she was wearing the jewelry. He took a step closer, taking the piece from her, the metal was still warm and weighted very little on his fingers while he twisted it. She did not protest, just observed him with the piece – in the dim light he noticed that the chocolate brown of her irises was almost drowning in a sea of deep forest-green. He didn’t opened it because he felt that whatever was inside it was something she wasn’t willing to share.

“You’re one of those girls who is all worried about getting older?” He asked while parting the chain and passing it through her head, the locket still between his fingers.

“Not exactly.” She smiled but he noticed that it was a forced one because it didn’t reached her eyes. Daphne raised her hand, placing it on top of his, her fingers curling themselves around his own to slip the locket from out of his grasp. He let her take it from him and watched as she adjusted it inside the neckline of her dress. “We better get inside.” Before someone notices, she thought but restrained herself from saying, even when the look in his eyes said that he had guessed it. She should not feel guilty, they weren’t doing nothing wrong, just talking. However, Daphne still felt like this stolen moment was some kind of secret that she had to keep to herself.

He followed her closely, when they stepped out the door she took off his jacket, handing it back to him, their fingers lingering together for a moment before she thanked him and excused herself, going to the opposite direction of the balcony. Thomas stood there, watching her leave, holding the jacket in one of his hands and wondering how this woman could have such a strong effect on him in such a short time. He opened and closed his hand – the one she had just touched - his fingers seeming to tingle from the contact even now.

Nobody in the pub seemed to have noticed the little interaction between the two – nobody except William and Polly, who were observing the couple on opposite sides of the mezzanine, unaware of one another.

William had seen Thomas follow Daphne to the balcony moments before, distracting their friends and preventing them to look that way, trying his best to hide the frown on his face. He had managed to break free from the small group, who continued in deep conversation, and walked to the railing. There was a hint of sadness in his blue eyes as he observed Daphne stepping into the room wrapped in Thomas’s jacket. He clenched his fists, recognizing the all too familiar burn of anger and jealousy that he hated so much.

Polly, on the other hand, was sipping her drink when she saw Tommy and Daphne getting out the door. The older woman smiled to herself – she was right them, there was more than just attraction between his nephew and the girl. She looked around, checking if anybody had noticed the two and saw one of Daphne’s friends - the handsome bachelor who turned many girls heads all night - observing the couple with closed fists. He looked in her direction, a frown on his face, and saw that she had seen the same thing as him, making quick work to ignore it and come back to the group of people he had just left.

Thomas was walking towards his family, intending to leave and go to his hotel room when he heard his name being called.

“It can’t be Sargent Major Thomas M. Shelby!” He turned on his heels and took just a moment to recognize the man talking to him.

“Charles Johnson, I thought I would never see you again.” There was a hint of a smile on the gangster’s face when the man approached him and the two hugged, patting each other on the back.

“Me neither. I was pretty sure that none of us would get out of that hell alive.” Thomas couldn’t stop himself of thinking that a part of him never really came back from the war, but that wasn’t a conversation that he wanted to have.

“And yet, here we are.”

“Here we are, indeed. You should meet my fiancé.” Charles turned to look at the beautiful blonde that had almost knocked Daphne to the ground at the beginning of the night. He made a motion with his head and she approached them. “This is Jane, my fiancé. Jane this is Thomas Shelby, we’ve met in France.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Shelby.” They shook hands briefly. She looked like a delicate flower – young and beautiful and full of energy. They were a match made in heaven, because from what Tommy remembered, Charles had that optimistic nature that sometimes got to your nerves, despite some moments of weakness.

“Likewise. Let me ask you how you ended up with this moron?” She laughed and Charles scoffed at him.

“I thought you were better, Shelby.”

“It was actually my brother’s fault. Charles and William have been friends since they were kids.” Jane answered sweetly, looking around to find her brother. “Oh there he is. William, come here.”

“Where’s the fire?”

“There’s no fire, you daft.” Jane smacked her brother on the arm, the action made Tommy remember Ada. “Mr. Shelby was just asking how I and Charles have met. I said that it was all your fault.” Thomas recognized him immediately – it was the man who had hugged Daphne for a little too long earlier. He extended his hand towards him.

“Thomas Shelby.”

“William Weston.” They shook hands, analyzing each other while doing so. “You know Charles?”

“Yes, we’ve met in France.” Charles answered quickly, apparently unaware of the animosity between the two men.

“You certainly have been there too, haven’t you Mr. Weston?” The sarcasm was evident in Tommy’s voice, but only William noticed it.

“Yeah, served there as a doctor. It’s where I’ve met Daph.” If he wasn’t paying close attention, William would certainly have missed the brief twitch of Tommy’s lip and the hint of jealously in his eyes.

“Yeah, only good thing that happened there.” Charles observed. “You’re here because of her birthday too, right, Tommy?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me, Mr. Shelby, how do you know our Daphne?” This time Jane noticed that something was going on by the tone her bother used, so she paid close attention to the conversation.

“I’m working with Mr. Solomons.”

“That he is. A pain in my ass, if you ask me, mate.” They all turned to see Alfie arriving with Daphne on his arm, both of them smiling.

“Business partners.” William seemed a little impressed.

“Yeah. Would you believe it?” Alfie joked, making Jane and Charles laugh, William just smiled without humor to avoid suspicion but Daphne noticed it, so did Tommy.

“You should come to the weeding, Mr. Shelby.” Suggested Jane and Charles immediately agreed.

“Yeah, it’s a great idea. You can bring your wife, you certainly are married by now. You were always a heartbreaker.”

“No. No wife” He looked at Daphne for a moment and she tried to ignore the intensity of his gaze.

“That’s a shame, but you can bring anyone you want, really. Alfie will be there too, so you will at least have a familiar face around.”

“Wouldn’t lose William’s speech for nothing.” The Jew smiled, making the others laugh at William rolling his eyes.

“Again with that?”

“Couldn’t let it pass, mate.”

“Daphne will be there too. She will be my maid of honor.” Explained Jane as enthusiastically as is the day she actually made the invitation. All of a sudden, the idea of going to the weeding seemed quite interesting to Tommy.

“Well, why not.”

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Thomas sat in his office looking through the file that Campbell had given him earlier when he saw the blood smearing his fingers. He stared at the red staining his skin for a couple of seconds before putting the file in one of the drawers and getting up to take a drink. He cleaned his hand in a napkin while taking the bottle of whisky at the same time a knock could be heard on the door.

“Yes?” Lizzie opened the door, standing there to announce.

“Somebody to see you, Mr Shelby. He says he has come about the position of accounts clerk.”

“Send him in.” Tommy simply said before turning back to pour himself a drink.

“Just through here, sir.”

“Thank you.”

“Michael.” There was a hint of surprise in Tommy’s unreadable face, the boy smiled at him but the head of the Peaky Blinders just turned around to go back to his desk while talking. “Vacancy's been filled.”

“Not according to this morning's paper.” Michael had followed him, throwing said newspaper on his desk, right beside the glass of whiskey he had just placed there. The boy sat down on one of the chairs on the opposite side of the piece of furniture while Tommy stared down at him. “At school, I was top of the class in mathematics and I did a night-school course in accountancy at Worcester College.” Tommy takes the glass from the desk and walks around to lean against the shelf behind his chair, observing his cousin talk. “Mum says you've had six different accountant clerks in the last six months. When respectable men see the other things you do, they leave. But I, like Lizzie out there, already know what you do. Mum says you want to be eighty percent legal within two years.”

“Three.”

“I can help. I know both sides and you know you can trust me. I want to help you, Tommy, become legal. Do the right thing. I want to be proud of this family.” The gangster says nothing as he eyes the boy, glass of whisky still untouched in his hand.

“Does Polly know you're here, Michael?”

“I'm eighteen on Friday, I go where I please.” Tommy step forward to the desk, places the glass on it to take the telephone and put it right in front of Michael.

“You phone your mother.” He takes the glass and starts to leave the room but not before saying. “Good luck.” Michael just observes the telephone for a few moments before making the call.

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Esme is at the shop, organizing things to open when a loud knock is heard from the front door.

“We're not open for winnings yet.”

“I'm here to see Thomas Shelby.” A woman says from outside and she rushes to the door to see a beautiful rich woman waiting there. “I have an appointment.”

“Come in.” Esme rushes her inside, taking notice of the car waiting parked on the street. Closing the door behind her and locking it, she hurries up to stop in front of the strange woman that is looking around the shop. After a while, the stranger extends a hand to her, which she does not take.

“May Carleton.”

“Mr. Shelby has his proper meetings in his other office.”

“This was the address that he gave me.”

“He gave you this address?” Esme asked surprised.

“He said it was a gambling den. I told him that I've wanted to see one since I'm always reading about them in the papers. Quite the big scandal in the Telegraph lately.” Rich people, Esme thought, always wanting to see how the peasants live. May noticed that the woman was still analyzing her and became quite uncomfortable. “Anyway, he said that I could come and have a look. And now I feel like a bit of an idiot because I'm early and he's late and I have no idea how to behave.”

“In a gambling den?” There was a hint of mock on her tone, so May decided that the best thing to do was to leave and wait in another place.

“I'll wait in the car.”

“If I open the door again, they'll all want to come in.” Esme made quick work of putting the keys back in her front pocket. “Like flies.” She starts doing her work again before asking to a very uncomfortable May. “So what are you?”

“W-what am I?” May asks, looking around.

“To Thomas?”

“I'm going to train his racehorse for Epsom.” This seemed to take Esme’s attention.

“You know horses?”

“Yes.” May turned to look at the other woman. “You?”

“Born riding. I slept in a manger when I was a baby.”

“I was born riding, too.” May seems almost daydreaming when the door open only for John to come in and slam it shut.

“There's a fucking great Riley parked out there and nobody's watching it.” He seems unaware of the woman’s presence until he stops right in front of her.

“John, this woman says she's training Thomas' horse.” He places the moneybags on the table and take a look at the woman in front of him.

“He's told us a lot about you.”

“Don't know where he is, do you?” May asks, hopeful. There’s a noise coming from the other door and soon Tommy walks in.

“Sorry, I'm late. There was a family matter. Esme, keep it locked up for a minute.”

“Yes, Thomas.”

“I'll show you around.” He says approaching May and nodding for John to leave. “So be my guest.” He leaned into one of the columns, lightening a cigarette while May starts walking around again. “That's my brother Arthur's office. Down there is my brother John's office - that's where we slate the runners and riders.”

“It's so out in the open. What about the police?” She approaches him, curiously.

“What about them?” Tommy answers and May walks to the nearby table, leaning on it and looking directly at him.

“When I drove into Small Heath, I thought I was going to get murdered then I mentioned your name. It was like being escorted to see a king.” The gangster barely acknowledges the comment, changing the subject.

“You came here to get my girl, right?”

“Right.” He walks to the front door and she follows him after taking a last look around.

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“She looks in very good condition, considering she's not been out on the gallops.” Acknowledges May as Curly walks to them with the mare.

“Curly's the best horseman in England.” Charlie says, smiling.

“I have a man called Mickey who'd argue the point.” She walks around Curly to inspect the animal.

“Ah, but Curly here is half horse himself.” Tommy says with a hint of a smile on his face as he pets the horse.

“She's blessed. Very blessed.” It’s visible that Curly is agitated when he makes the observation.

“Well, she's from the best stock.” The woman says coming to stop on his side.

“But I'd rather have a colored pony. Mixed blood is stronger.”

“Not to win the Derby, Curly.” Tommy says to the gentle man.

“Don't like them racing, Tommy, not the way they beat them.” Curly gives the reins to May. “She's all yours.”

“Thank you.” Then he leaves, clearly disturbed.

“He gets sad when one leaves.” Explains Charlie.

“What time is your box van coming?” Tommy asks.

“Midday.” She answers more focused on petting the horse.

“Maybe you've got time to take the lady to the Garrison, show her the spa and the tearooms.” Thomas looks at his uncle and see the clear suggestion in his smirk and tone of voice, but just plays along and so does she.

“I'd like that, why not?” May says, looking at Tommy before they head to the pub.

“I just had it done up. There was a fire.” He walks ahead of her, going behind the counter while she looks around.

“It's…”

“Yep.” He throws the keys in the counter and asks her. “What do you drink?”

“So early, but gin.” May takes off her gloves and sits on one of the chairs close to the bar. Tommy walks around, taking the bottle of gin and a glass, which he places in front of the woman and fills with the drink. “Goodness. With something?”

“Like what?” He asks a little annoyed as if she is saying something that doesn’t make sense.

“Tonic water or…” He starts looking around.

“Hum, we have cordial.” As he opens the bottle to pour it for her, Tommy points to the glass and says. “There's not much room in there but…” He turns around, helping himself a glass of whiskey. “You want to fuck me, Mrs. Carleton?” She swallows the alcohol she had just taken, looking at him surprised by his bluntness. “Perhaps because I… Perhaps because I represent something to you? We should have this conversation before the booze starts talking for us.” He says while lightening another cigarette. She may deny it, but the way he treats it like a business transaction brings something in her that May haven’t felt in a long while.

“You have a horse.”

“Yes, I have a horse.”

“The horse is why I'm here, purely that. And because you're paying me a lot of money to train your horse, that's why I'm here, purely that.” May takes another sip of her drink while he observes her frown swallowing the drink.

“Good. Good. Well, a toast, then.” He raises his glass but she hesitates. “To the horse, to the Derby.”

“Cheers.”

“So is that what you say to women?” She asks placing her glass on the counter and looking at him.

“Only if I don't know what they want.”

“And what if they don't want to fuck?”

“Then life is simpler.”

“You want a simple life?” He scoffs, placing his hands on the counter before answering her, recognizing the real question hidden in her words.

“Do I look like a man who wants a simple life, eh?”

“So what do you want?” May takes the drink and takes a sip. Tommy leans closer to her, resting his elbows into the counter.

“For what I'm paying you, Mrs. Carleton, I want a horse that'll pay out at Epsom on an each-way bet.” She takes the pack of cigars and the matches that he placed on the counter.

“Before I took your account, I did some credit checks on you.” She lights the cigarettes and takes a drag. “Apparently, you don't exist.” Tommy scratches the side of his head with the hand that holds the cigarette.

“My existence is questionable.”

“Gypsies don't like registers.”

“You see, I'm not a Gypsy like you mean.”

“But you did register for France. I also sent your name to the War Office. I have friends there. You won two medals for gallantry.” So he was right, she could be useful to them. Tommy puts his cigarette out on the ashtray before looking at her, seemingly unimpressed.

“Does that really impress you, Mrs. Carleton?”

“Call me May.” The door to the pub opens and Finn comes in, eyeing the woman curiously.

“Charlie says the box van is here.”

“Thank you, Finn.” Tommy says and the boy leaves again.

“You know, I still don't know what you're going to call your horse.” The gangster stops to think for a moment, remembering the little stolen time he had with Daphne a few nights ago - the way she quickly closed the locket when he arrived; the way her hazel eyes analyzed him with the piece between his fingers, never complaining about how he was closer to her than what was considered appropriate; how he still could feel the light pressure of her fingers on his.

“The horse will be called The Secret Locket.”

“The Secret Locket.” May ponders sipping the gin again.

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“I told him he definitely can't take the job. He said: "All right, I'll move to London, then.”. I said, I won't give in to blackmail. No is no." Polly is looking at Tommy from the mirror hanging in the wall while she puts her earrings – he was finishing putting his tie.

“Well that settles it, then. I'll give the job to the other candidate. He's much better qualified anyway.” He says as he puts in his shoulder holster.

“Michael did City And Guilds - six months.” The way she talks says clearly that even when she refuses to accept him doing the job, Polly wants Michael’s achievements recognized.

“Yeah, but he doesn't know racing, Poll.” Thomas takes a bottle from the table and serves his aunt a drink. “He knows horses, but he doesn't know racing. This other boy, he knows racing. He's good. He's a fast learner.” She looks at him distressed, when he hands her the glass.

“What if Michael really leaves?” Polly sits down on one of the armchairs, placing the ashtray and her drink on the coffee table.

“You just got to let him go, Poll. He'll get a job in an office in London. I'm sure he'll write to you.” Tommy gets his jacket in the clothes rack, putting it on.

“He made a big speech about wanting to help you build up a respectable business. Oh, he's like his dad, he could make me cry.”

“There are trains to London.”

“So I just let him leave?” Her tone is incredulous.

“Every month or so he'd be back.” Thomas takes the cigarette from the ashtray to take a drag. “Unless of course he meets a girl. Then, who knows?”

“Oh, my God. You want him to do this job.” The older woman looks at him quizzically.

“Polly, I want what you want.” Polly knows him well enough to recognize what he is doing, the tone of his voice, the way he looks at her. It’s not very common for Thomas Shelby don’t get what he wants. She gets up, drink and cigarette in hand.

“What about this other more qualified candidate?”

“Mmm, well, I lied, there isn't one.”

“How much are you paying?” There is a hint of a smile in his face.

“The advertised rate.”

“Like hell.”

“Three bob.”

“Like hell.”

“Three and six.”

“Four.” He gives in.

“Four it is.” She spits on her hand and extends it to him, to seal the deal. Tommy does the same.

“I love him, Tom.” Polly looks at him, her expression serious.

“I know. That's why I'll keep him away from the old business, put him charge of the new. Agreed?”

“Agreed.” He helps her put her coat on and walks to the door but she stops him. “One more thing before we leave.

“What is it?” He asks with a frown.

“The woman.” Polly intentionally throws the bait to see if he is going to bite - and he does.

“What about Daphne?”

“She hides something.” He was not the only one who noticed how she the young woman seemed to have a habit of playing with the locket hanging from her neck when she was distracted or when somebody mentioned family matters. But it wasn’t just that. Polly had seen the hurt in her eyes, like something had been broken inside of her - she was all smiles and pleasantries with everybody but she held a sadness rooted deep down on her, something that she kept from the outside world, something that the gipsy woman was used to see in her own nephew after the war.

“I know. I’m already working on discovering it.”

“Do you want to discover it because of the business or there are other interests at stake?” He scoffs before answering her.

“Polly…”

“Thomas. You are a smart man. You’ve already been fooled by love once…”

“It’s not like that.” The way he punctuates every word just confirms her suspicious even more – he is, indeed, falling for the girl.

“Yes, it is. I see it in your eyes and I saw it in hers.” He looks at her them, a little surprised by the revelation. “I said that you had to forget the barmaid, that there would be others. You’ve been sleeping around since them but now you have to have in mind that she’s not some common woman, Thomas. She is under Solomons’s protection and you have to have that in mind before you let your cock take your decisions for you.”

Tags: @stressedandbandobessed7771

41 notes · View notes

angelaiswriting · 5 years

Text

Silence | Tommy Shelby x reader

[original picture: pexels]

✏️ Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader + mentions of Tommy x Lizzie

✏️ Summary: Some things are just not bound to last. (Requested by two anons, whose requests I combined)

✏️ A/N: here, suffer with me 💛 As always, to be tagged in what I write, inbox me here.

✏️ Beta-read by @sweetvengeancee (I got her stamp of approval, so this angst should be good)

✏️ Warnings: angst + mentions of death

✏️ Word-count: 2,159

Oftentimes things go according to plan. Tommy’s well-calculated projects and schemes follow all the points they should touch – they start where they should and end where they have to. Setbacks might come up, but the second-oldest Shelby brother knows how to react, how to get rid of each and every obstacle blocking his road to success.

But sometimes, not even all his calculations are enough. The plan breaks, shit happens, and the happy ending he has spent days and weeks and even months hoping for just… vanishes – slips through his fingers like smoke – curls around his skin before disappearing into thin air.

He knows what’s going to happen even before she opens her mouth to speak. He reads it in her eyes, sees it in the slight tremor shaking her hands.

She is leaving.

The cigarette burns between his lips but he has forgotten all about it. It’s there, perched and on the brink of the abyss as ashes twirl down towards the ground – and his expensive shoes.

If there’s one thing Tommy Shelby has never thought of, it’s the possibility that she might say one last farewell to him before exiting his life like she has entered it – a ballerina on a stage. She’s always been a constant. For two long years, she’s been the one constant in his life apart from his family. She was there when he needed her and he was there when she needed him.

He still is there, but he knows she doesn’t care. He knows it doesn’t matter anymore.

He’s been through it, he’s done this to May. He knows the torments of a conflicted heart, knows the constant pangs of pain in-between the ribs when the memories overwhelm you like a wave, slap your face with their force of stone.

“Tommy.”

Fucking Christ, her voice is dripping. Big, fat droplets of feelings of circumstance roll down the curve of her lower lip as she readies herself to tell him she’s out of his life. And for good, this time.

If he could stop time, he would. He’d press a button, freeze the world, go back and understand where he went wrong, what he did wrong so that he can do better – be better. More present, for one. More caring, for two. She’s always been as precious as Grace in his eyes – as valuable – but he’s never showed it, not to her, not to anyone else, probably not even to himself. And he’s still repeated the mistake and he has wronged her tenfold this time.

He wants to choke on the smoke of his cigarette.

“Hi.”

They stand there, awkwardly, right outside the door of his mansion. And while she has a storm inside, he’s calm – this is the word he’d like to use, but the more-fitting one would be empty. He looks at her and he feels nothing inside – the reality of the words he reads on her face has robbed him of all he previously had.

“I don’t know how to approach this.”

And he knows it’s the truth. He knows she doesn’t want to say this, doesn’t want to leave him. The conflict of her heart and of her mind is right there, behind her eyes, and it curves her shoulders down, furrows her eyebrows as a light expression wrinkle cuts her forehead vertically.

“I’ve studied a speech,” and she curtly nods in the direction of the car she has arrived with to let him know where, exactly, she has rehearsed words she cannot remember, not now. “But nothing ever sounds right.”

“Then don’t do it.”

His voice is pleading – not because he wants it to be, but because there’s no stopping it. There’s no stopping the destructing extinction of what he has inside. It’s taken him so long to love her like he should and now that he has finally succeeded, now that he has opened his heart to someone else, it’s too late.

“I have to.”

She looks at him like she is the murderer. Like she has the smoking gun in her hand – like she’s always had it. And he looks at her and he sees what he could have had had he not been so adamant on being made of stone.

“This is not working.”

Four words – four stabs to his stomach. They’re quick, fast, more similar to bullets than to a blade.

“I’ve been thinking about it and I…”

The wind picks up and swallows her courage down its chilly throat.

“I’m not enough. I don’t come from your world, and this is probably why I don’t understand. Why I don’t know how to change.”

He wants to scream. And the voice is there, burning in the pit of his stomach with the blood squirting from his wounds, but his throat is clogged, his lips are sealed.

There’s a voice inside him that tells him he should tell her to stay. That this is not on her – it’s on him. On him and on the horrors of his past he’s so desperately holding on to. It’s self-harm but he can’t help it – he knows nothing else. War came and erased the world he knew and now, this Birmingham he’s ruling is still a blank slate he hasn’t managed to paint with his own colours.

“You don’t have to come from my world.” His voice breaks – it shatters like a crystal glass, and shards fly everywhere. He doesn’t remember the last time he sounded like this, doesn’t know if it were during his childhood or when he had had to leave for war. “You don’t have to change.”

“We knew this wasn’t bound to last,” she continues, undaunted. She squirms under his gaze, and he knows this isn’t fully her will, that this is not exactly what she wants. But she’s doing it anyway, she’s going down that dirt road that will leave both emptier than they were that morning. “We’ve known this from the start.”

She’s like a horse wearing blinders – she doesn’t stop, she sees nothing else but her end goal. And it scares him. It scares him because most of the time, that’s him, too. He fixes a goal for himself and does what he must to reach it.

He doesn’t like this, doesn’t like standing at the other end of the gun barrel, staring right into its black mouth as it readies itself to fire.

“So, it’s over,” he says, voice flat and empty, emotionless. The cigarette bounces between his lips and the ash falls, and that’s the only movement on his part as his body feels like it’s turning to stone.

She swallows and the early April sun glows on her skin like she were part of a painting. Imperfectly perfect, perfectly imperfect. And she’s even more unreachable than she had been the day he met her – the day he saw her at the Garrison, sipping on his gin, chatting with a friend.

“Leave, then.”

It’s only the week later that he realises what has happened. It’s when he wakes up one morning, groggy after a night spent on his books, a cigar between his fingers, a full tumbler of whiskey on his desk, that he realises she’s not there next to him under fluffy blankets.

Just a dream.

He had her in a dream – his lips on her body and her lips on his body. His hands in hers when she knelt between his legs, and then her eyes focused on him when he settled her thighs on his shoulders. He’s still warm – and hard – and it’s difficult to come back to reality – and to come to terms with it.

She’s not there and she never will be. The other side of his bed is empty. And cold. And that tiny corner of his heart that used to belong to her alone is now empty and abandoned – dusty. It feels like a stone in his chest and its weight is heavier the more he carries on with his days.

He knows where she is, and the knowledge doesn’t make his anguish lighter.

Boston first, but rumors have it, she’ll be in San Francisco really soon. October, November at most, and she’ll be celebrating Christmas day somewhere else – with someone else – someone that treats her like she should be treated, someone that loves her like she should be loved. Someone that doesn’t call her like one would a whore.

There is a man, and his name is Charles. He’s tall and broad, and while his wallet is not as big as Tommy’s, while his bank account is not as fat, he’s a good man. A hard-working man, but in a field where he’s not required to kill and cut and cheat. He lives under the sun, while Tommy crawls in the shadows – it doesn’t matter that he’s MP now, because his status didn’t manage to keep the woman he had ended up falling for.

Charles is like Michael, but a thousand times better. Tommy knows he’s been called to California to work as an accountant for the employer he’s worked seven years for in London. He’s been called to California and all he’ll have to deal with, is plain and boring legal business. There’s no need for someone like her to change for someone like him. She’s the whiskey to his cigarette, the bullet to his revolver, and there’s no denying that – there’s no filling his head with lies, not for Tommy.

It seeps into his every cell little by little, and it’s the everyday things that hurt the most.

She’s not calling into his office, telling him she’s waiting for him for dinner in some fancy restaurant he had never dreamed of looking twice at before money came into his pockets.

And he’s not warning the maids to cook for one more person.

His wife’s vanity, that same vanity he never found the courage to touch, will remain untouched once again. It’ll stand there, against the wall, collecting dust and memories as it gets old and the wood gets eaten to the bone by woodworms.

He can’t tell his family he’s missing something he had always given for granted when he hadn’t even made the effort to truly welcome into his life. And there’s also no telling Charlie that she’s not coming back, because it’ll hurt the child even more.

Still, probably not as much as it hurts him.

He sits there, in his office, and he’s staring out of the window. He doesn’t see his lands, though, doesn’t see the car that has just entered his property.

When the news come and tell her sad story, he doesn’t believe it at first. There’s no way he can bring himself to truly buy it that she’s died in a train wreck.

It’s the twentieth century and people don’t die in train accidents.

But she did. And Charles did. And apparently, she had been a couple of months pregnant, too.

The news come in April, a year after she bid him her last farewell, four months after getting married, after becoming Mrs. Jones.

It stings like a slap – and the tears in his eyes prickle even more.

It feels surreal. All the plans of going on with his life – of trying to get her back – suddenly vaporise. They’re there one moment and the next, they’re not anymore.

It’s like waking up – he always has those first few minutes when he opens his eyes where dream and reality just clash and fight like lions in the arena. Nothing ever feels real then, everything’s nebulous and fogged as his mind adjusts to the real world.

And he’s lying next to Lizzie. Dear, sweet Lizzie that never belonged in a brothel, that never deserved the life she had before he became her employer.

He’s lying next to her and he feels like he’s committing the same mistake he’s always – always – made in his life. He opens up, but it’s just a tiny fracture and from there, they can’t look into his soul, into what he carries inside – what eats away at his mind.

For a moment, he thinks he should tell her – tell her about Y/N, about what he had with her, what he would have loved to have with her. And about her death – above all about her death. And how her death makes him feel even a year after she exited his life. Shattered and broken and just… empty. So empty inside he fears he’ll never be able to be filled again.

But Lizzie’s expression as she sleeps is peaceful.

He sees no reason why he should burden her with his grief and the vacuum he has inside.

Even now, even after having witnessed its destructive effects, silence is still better than opening up.

Feedback and PB requests are welcome! ❤️

TAGS (to be added to or to be removed from any list, shoot me an ask)

Everything: @idhrenniel @saibh29 @fuckthatfeeling @aya-fay @pebblesz892 @mblaqgi @becs-bunker

Peaky Blinders: @whimsylavender @thethyri @friendleyneighbourhoodvillain @flowers-in-your-hayr @oddsnendsfanfics @medievalfangirl @inforapound @niamhmaria

People that might be interested: @kellydixon01

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #angelaiswriting

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cilliansaccent · 4 years

Text

The Peaky Designer - Cillian Fanfic, Chapter 12

Hello, welcome back. Below is the next instalment of my fanfiction!

Leave a like or a comment if you liked it, or if I can do anything better! Please, it would mean the world and to understand if anyone is enjoying my writing. Also, sharing/reblogging would be even better.

PLEASE READ:

I will not be including Cillian’s family as it’s kinda weird since he has children lmao. Just a mention of his parents and a previous lover.

I will indicate in a chapter if there is smut in the beginning and before the actual scene!!

I will add trigger warnings if there is any!!

There is a variety of levels of swearing during a chapter, I will not hold back, everyone swears.

The timestamp for the Fic is now 2016 and onwards!!

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Background: Gabrijela Babic is a Croatian girl from Sydney, Australia. She is born in the year 1991 on the 24th of December. She studies a Fashion degree in a University with a major in Game Design as well. Her teacher in the fashion designer class managed to nail an Internship on the set of Peaky Blinders with the shows very own Costume Designer, Allison McCosh. There, she travels to London for under a year to learn how to be one, working alongside the actors as well the man she admires, Cillian Murphy. But, her platonic feelings for the man begins to grow into something more, and she wonders whether she should pursue them or let him go for fear of her strict parents and her three older brothers…

Characters:

Swantje Paulina as Gabrijela Babic (swalina on Instagram)

Cillian Murphy

Word Count: 5,076

!!Warnings!!: SMUTTTTT!!! All at the end!!

Date: December 2016

Chapter Name: An Irish Christmas

Brief Chapter Outline: Gabrijela spends Christmas with Cillian and his family in their childhood home in Cork. She's tired but she’ll have a better reason to be tired when nighttime comes around and sparks fly...

Extra Notes: I’ve made up his parents names as we do not know their real names.

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Gabrijela leaned against Cillian, head on his shoulder as he read a book. She shut her eyes, tired from how early they had to get up. Five in the morning for their eight-thirty flight.

"Such an ungodly hour." She muttered and found the position to be uncomfortable. So she moved on her back, her head in his lap.

He looked at her, "You'll get sleep in the afternoon." He leaned down, lifting her head up to kiss her.

"But I wanna sleep now." She murmured against his lips.

"Hush," He chuckled and resumed his reading. He rested one arm just below her breasts, she held on to it with a hand. She thought to what he had done this morning. She was packing her things when he had come up behind her. His hands roved over her breasts and he kissed her neck, "Cillian," She whispered before she was bent over the bed. Her jeans were yanked down and he knelt behind her until he ruined her with his mouth. He had moaned, "For last night." He said against her before she cried out and came on his fingers once more.

She smiled at the pleasant morning and could feel herself drifting to sleep but it wasn't long when it was time to get up and get moving.

She grabbed her carry-on luggage, she had repacked this morning into his bigger suitcase as he didn't need to bring to much stuff as he had left some things in his family home.

They shuffled on to the plane, he helped her shove her bag into the overhead compartment then she slid into the chair beside the window. She grew nervous. She didn't like small aeroplanes. They justled to much when in the air.

She hastily put on her seat belt, her leg shaking.

"Are you okay?" Cillian slid his hand in hers.

"A little nervous. I'm not a fan of small planes." She laughed softly, "Or planes in general."

"Are you only doing this to get a kiss from me?" He was clearly teasing her, but he was still worried.

"No!" She gasped.

"Uh-huh. Look at me, darling." He tilted her face to his.

"Prick." She huffed and he laughed and leaned in, kissing her deeply.

"No, really. It is very nerve-wracking for me." She looked out the window, it was pouring rain.

"It's okay. I'm right here," he squeezed her hand, holding it in his lap.

"I know." She smiled.

It wasn't long when the plane was ready and backed out with the help of a truck. She tensed when the plane bumped and jiggled on the tarmac, holding his hand tightly.

Then it was ready to take flight.

"Fuck." She whispered as the plane began to move, faster and faster it went.

"I'm here. I got you, Gabrijela." Cillian watched her face, her eyes shut tightly as the plane made various sounds before liftoff. He didn't like it when he saw her so stricken with fear. He wondered how she came here by herself with no one but herself for comfort.

"I hate this so fucking much. Oh god." She murmured, she hadn't opened her eyes. "God I hate it." Her heart was hammering in her chest.

He stroked her knuckles with a thumb, trying to comfort her the best he could.

Only when the plane eased into a horizontal path did she relax a little. She gulped as she opened her eyes and turned to see some very worried ice blue eyes watch her.

"Okay?" He whispered, cupping her face with a hand. He was so worried, his voice wavered a little.

"I'm okay." She placed a hand over his, turned her head to kiss the inside of his palm. "Thanks, Cillian-" She gasped when the plane wiggled.

"I'll get us some tea, hey?" The flight hostess came by and he got her some tea. They were also offered some light snacks which she gratefully munched on. She hadn't really eaten this morning so she was feeling a little sick.

The tea, however, settled her and she appreciated it a lot. But turbulence started and in a smaller plane, it was felt greatly.

She cursed softly as she tried to press herself as much as she could into the seat, and she let out soft whimpers whenever the plane moved to much.

But listening to Cillian's voice was the only thing that prevented her from having a full out panic attack. She felt something wrap around her neck, it was his scarf by the smell of the rich cologne he wore. And then the green bubble jacket he wore over her legs.

Comfy and warm.

The fear and tension left her, and she was feeling much better after fifteen minutes. He had lifted up the armrest between them so she could snuggle into his body.

They had a shared cord that would plug into his phone, and they listened to some music. They stayed like that, holding each other right through to landing.

Off the plane, they collected their bags and headed out to the area to be picked up.

"My brother will take us to the house." He said. Despite the clear skies, it was very, very cold. Only ten degrees Celcius.

Gabrijela was glad she was wearing her washed-out jeans, a hoodie that had a thermal singlet and a shirt underneath it. She still wore his scarf which was tightly wrapped around her.

"He better hurry up, otherwise he'll be taking popsicles home." She grumbled.

"Aha! There he is! Come on darling." He came to the car and beamed.

His brother got out and they embraced, "Big brother! Good to see you! God."

Gabrijela stayed back a little, watching them happily hug each other. It was so cute. She couldn't help but smile.

"Paidi, meet Gabrijela." Cillian turned and waved her closer.

"Hi," Gab smiled and shook hands with the younger brother.

"Hello, darl. You look very cold. Why don't we get in? Ma is waiting." He said.

They all got into the car, Cillian sat at the front and she sat in the back. The brothers chatted and she admired the scenery that unfolded.

Cork was lovely by the looks of it. She hoped they could spend a day looking around.

They headed a little out of the main city, to a small village Cillian was raised in.

Then down a dirt road to a stunning stone, two-story home. It had white wooden borders around the many windows and a bright green front door with a Christmas wreath on it. The garden was impeccable, and despite its winter, it was all green.

"We have a horse and some chickens," Cillian's brother said as they pulled up.

And a wave of nerves slammed into her she could only nod quickly. She hadn't put much thought to this trip. She didn't realise she would actually meet his family. Well, that's stupid, she did but... God, she didn't think it would come true.

His mother, father and his siblings. All there. Oh god, the questions. Did Cillian tell his family who she was exactly? She remembered he had said they would meet a wonderful girl. But did he tell them her age? What were they as a pair? A couple? Friends with benefits? What were they anyway? Would they think of her as some type of gold-digger, or some... young silly girl trying new things with an older man? The questions swirled in her brain she didn't realise Cillian had opened the door and was talking to her.

"Gabbie." He shook her and she looked at him. "Is everything okay?" His brother was nowhere to be seen. Must've gone in.

"I-Cillian." She breathed fast, "Is this a good idea? Oh god, I didn't think this through. Y-Your family, what will they think of me? Shit, I'm so scared."

"Breathe. Come on, breathe." He said, taking her hands with one of his. "Breathe." He instructed and she did. "They will love you, darling. Do not be afraid."

She looked closely into his eyes, he was sincere but also understanding. She reached up with a hand, brushing her fingers along his blushed cheeks. "Okay... Okay, Cillian. Okay." She nodded after some moments.

"That's my girl," He smiled and leaned in, kissing her as he helped her out.

That sentence made her feel things, her heart raced. His girl. She was his. Confidence began to build in her.

Upon entering the house, as lovely outside, it was just as lovely inside. Warm, wooden tones with a very farm like interior. It had a serious Irish charm, and she could envision little Cillian running around and down the stairs.

She spotted a picture, "Oh my, who is this?" She said as she came over.

"Uh. It's me. I was only fifteen." He laughed softly.

"Such a cutie with that smile." She looked up.

"Do I hear my precious handsome boy?" An older woman came through the threshold that had led into the living section of the house.

"Ma! Hello!" He hugged her.

"Ooo, it is wonderful to see you, Cilly." She looked over, "And oh! She is just as beautiful as you had described!"

Gabrijela's eyes widened and she looked at Cillian. He did what now?! She hugged the woman when she embraced her.

"Oh my god, no, Ma!" Cillian was flushing bright red. He was extremely embarrassed.

"Oh hush now. Come on, breakfast is ready. Kids have been whining all morning." She said and left them.

"Cillian I'm going to kill you." She hit his arm hard, pouting at him.

"Sorry! Ma wanted to know so badly. It's not like I have photos of you on my phone." He nudged her with his hip.

"No more kisses for you." She jabbed his arm with a finger and he groaned as he rubbed his arm.

They entered the very lively living room. Five young kids were playing before the fire, his siblings around a table that was covered with delicious-looking food.

Then it was the introductions, hugs and kisses and shaking hands. She learned his mother's name to be Mary and his father Lachlan. Then breakfast was underway, light chatter across the table and the kids giggling.

"How is my food?" His mother asked after a bit.

"It's so good. Thank you." Gabrijela smiled. There was an agreement across the board.

"Good! I am very glad you like it! So, tell me, how do you find our city?" She continued.

"I haven't seen it much but it does look very beautiful. I'm a sucker for old, historical towns." Gabrijela said, wiping her mouth a little as she drank a bit of apple juice.

"Fantastic. Cillian best show you around before you return back to London. There are fantastic little places all over." She said with a warm smile.

"Do you have any siblings?" Orla, Cillian's younger sister, asked.

"I do. I've got three older brothers. All married with kids." Gab nodded.

"Oh, wow. Youngest girl. How old are you?"

"Twenty-five since yesterday," Gab said softly.

"Happy Birthday! Must've been a Christmas surprise?" Mary smiled.

"Kinda. We celebrate my birthday on Christmas as it's easier. I always get a tad more presents." She giggled.

"How about any partners?" Mary continued with the questions. It made her a little overwhelmed.

"Ma, that's a bit much." Cillian cut in before Gab could reply.

"She is an adult woman, she can reply if she wants. Gabrijela?"

All eyes on her. She blinked, she looked at Cillian then back at Mary. It seemed he hadn't told her details about them.

"No. No one at all." She shook her head.

"Really? A girl as beautiful should have men wanting your attention." Mary gasped. "Maybe we should find you a man here." She winked.

Gab giggled and sipped her apple juice as everyone fell into their own conversations.

Cillian's knee brushed against hers and she looked up, "You going okay?" He asked.

"Yeah. Going just well." She nodded.

The doorbell rang and Mary hurried to go answer it. More voices filled the house as more people came. Cillian's other relatives.

More introductions, handshakes and kisses. Then everyone gathered in the large living room/sunroom. The Christmas tree was overflowing with presents.

She sat on the couch, Cillian sitting on the armrest, an arm on the backrest for support. His sisters and his brother handed out the presents to everyone, the kids having an absolute ball with their new toys or outfits. Music filled the air, laughter and joy making it warm as light snow fell outside.

"First white Christmas." Cillian leaned down.

"Dream come true." She smiled up at him.

"This one is for Gabrijela." Mary hobbled over the wrapping and the toys scattered around.

"Oh no, you shouldn't!" Gabrijela took the large box. She had to send some of her stuff back. No way she could bring this all home in her suitcase.

"Of course we should! It's a bit of your birthday and a Christmas present." Mary beamed.

"Oh goodness." Gabrijela laughed before she unwrapped the box. As she popped open the lid she gasped. "Oh!" She pulled out the items. A fantastic scarf, thick and soft and the colour of cream. The next thing inside was a multi-coloured patchwork of a throw. She handed Cillian the box as she pulled it out, it was huge! She could wrap herself up in it. There was a cooking book as well, all about traditional Irish dishes.

"We wanted to give you something of Ireland for you to take home. The scarf and the throw all made here with care and love." Mary explained. "And Cillian mentioned your love for cooking. So the book is for you to whip up something wonderful for your family at home. You'll find some of the dishes I made today in there."

Gabrijela beamed and set the items down, "Thank you so much. I will treasure them forever. I've also gotten some things to." She got up, Cillian had already set the things under the tree.

She handed them out to each sibling and his parents. She bought them their favourite wines or scotch. She remembered Cillian telling her one dinner about it.

Everyone seemed thrilled and she received plenty of hugs. Even the kids had gotten some toys from her.

The morning went on, Gabrijela played with the kids. Their parents were surprised as to how well she was with them, messing around and keeping them occupied as the table was cleaned up.

She would occasionally look up, Cillian had a serious expression as he spoke with his mother and father in the kitchen. Her heart sank, he seemed troubled. He looked over and gave her a small reassuring smile when he noted the look on her face.

Gabrijela sighed softly. She hoped that there was no trouble with her, she didn't want his family to be distrustful towards her.

Lunch came and went, and his other relatives began to leave by evening. Gabrijela spent most of her time with the kids, reading them stories or listening to their complaints of their parents or their school.

The night eased to calm, soft classical music coming from the record. His siblings disappeared upstairs, setting the kids to bed.

His father had gone early to bed.

She came to the couch where Cillian sat, a glass in her hand as well as his.

"Hi," She smiled and sat close, his arm automatically went around her.

"Hey." He smiled, looking at her. "You look exhausted."

"I am. Those kids are crazy!" She giggled as she sipped her wine.

"They are. But really adored you. You have some magic, never seen them so calm." He said, playing with the golden ends of her hair.

"Practice makes perfect." She laid her head back on his arm. It had been snowing all day, a blanket of white outside.

"How did you like it today?" He asked, his finger now traced a shape on her nape.

She shivered, "I loved it. Nervous at first, but... Your family is wonderful Cillian. Makes me miss my own back at home."

"I could imagine. Make sure to call them later yeah?" He set down his finished glass.

"I will." She looked into his eyes. He had moved so he was closer to her, kinda almost on top of her.

"Do I still get to kiss you?" He asked, his other hand taking her jaw gently.

"If you promise me one thing." She leaned closer, their noses touching.

"What?" He now cupped her neck.

"Eat me out every morning like you did this morning." She said and kissed him without hearing his answer.

Eyes shut, he kissed her deeply and passionately, pulling her close. She gripped his side a little, a soft moan escaping her as she felt his tongue sweep in. Her core warmed at the sensation of his tongue dominating hers. She hadn't kissed him all day, and she poured her heart and soul into it.

"Maybe we should go to bed too," She whispered against his lips, his hand had slid down to her hip.

"And do what?" He kissed her jaw, moving to her neck.

"Everything." She murmured, sighing in delight.

"It's a full house, Gab. Walls," he kissed her collar bone, "... Are thin."

"I can be quiet, Cillian. Or you can put a gag in my mouth." She mused when he pulled back.

"A gag?" His smirk was wicked.

"Mhm," She ran a finger down his lips.

"Let's go then." He said and they stood.

As they came to the stairs Mary was coming down them, "Ah! There you two are. Come on, let me show you your room." She said.

The pair gave each other a look and followed her.

"You have the room farthest of them all. Cillian's old room as a boy. But closest to the bathroom. He had a problem when he was much younger." Mary whispered.

Cillian groaned, "God."

Gabrijela giggled as they came into the fairly large room. A huge double bed that faced the wall lined french doors that led to a small balcony. There was a guitar in the corner, a table with neatly stacked books and sheets of what looked like music sheets.

"His room was the biggest as he liked to practice his music and write them to," Mary said.

"He writes music?" Gabrijela raised a brow. "You didn't tell me that."

"Yeah, and you left out the part you are in a band." He poked back at her. She rolled her eyes.

"You're in a band? Interesting. Two music lovers. Could be a perfect couple." Mary let out a soft laugh.

Gabrijela blushed.

"Now under this big bed is a spare mattress. I'd pull it out but my back is aching." She said. "All sheets are made. Towels in the wardrobe. But... Make yourself at home." Mary smiled.

"Much appreciated." She said, taking her hands. "I might take a shower if that's fine. I feel icky." She said.

"Of course! Don't worry about making to much noise. We all sleep like the dead." She laughed. "Cillian, since you are the eldest, help your poor mama with the dishes." She said and headed out.

Gabrijela smirked, "I'm going to take a shower. Join me, hm?" She pressed herself against him, kissing his neck.

"I'll be quick." He groaned softly, his hands cupped her ass and squeezed it.

They parted. She took a moment to unpack her things. They would be here for more than three days it seemed, into the new year. She unpacked his clothing too, hanging it up with the other items he had left.

Then she grabbed her pyjamas and towel and went into the bathroom. She was told the attic was converted into a wonderful room for the kids to all sleep in. One of the girls wanted to show her tomorrow.

Cillian's parents slept downstairs as well as his brother, his sisters upstairs on the other side of the house.

As she began to undress a knock came at the door, "Who is it?"

"It's me." Cillian's voice.

She came over and unlocked it, letting him in. "That was quick." She said.

"Uh, yeah. Only had to put things away." He said, grabbing her by the hips and pulled her flush against his body.

"Cillian-" She was cut off by the hard kiss. She wasn't naked yet but he helped her undress her bra and panties before he was naked as well. He walked her into the shower. It was big enough for two people.

As they got wet, he kissed her. He hadn't broken the kiss even as he had walked in with her. She was surprised at the desperation he had for her, how hard he felt against her.

Tonight was the night, she thought. Despite being in his own family home, he would take her.

He touched her in the shower, one leg cocked up to his hip as he pushed two fingers into her. Her sweet moan filled his ears, he would ready her.

"I don't have a condom," He said against her ear, if she was not okay with him going bareback then he would not take her. He would stick to her boundaries.

"It's fine," She said breathlessly, "I'm on the pill." She held back a cry when his thumb began to do its familiar circle around her clit.

"Sure?" He kissed her, dragging out her bottom lip.

"I'm sure Cillian. I want you. Tonight." She bucked her hips. "I have wanted you for a long time."

"I can say the same." He thrust his fingers fast inside her, kissing her and swallowing up her cries as she came on them. Then they did a speedy clean up, unable to stop kissing each other as they left the bathroom in their towels to their room.

Gabrijela moved into the middle of the bed, getting under the sheets and he joined her. He rolled on top of her, her arms going around his neck as they locked into another passionate kiss.

He had music playing, just to be sure to cancel out any noises. He let out a groan as he felt her slender fingers around his cock, "Gab." He murmured.

"Closer, baby." She whispered. He lowered his hips and let out a soft hiss when he felt her rub the head of his cock along her slit. She moaned softly, teasing herself with him.

He brought a hand down to grip himself, "Hold on to me, darling."

She could feel him trembling, his lips wobbled a little. She placed her hands back on his shoulders.

She held his gaze, his face shadowed but not too much that she could not see.

"My Cillian," She whispered.

And then he lowered himself, sliding into her with slow ease of his hips.

He let out a groan, it had been a long time since he felt the warmth of a woman. He gripped the sheets, his hips now locked with hers. He let out a shaky breath. He watched her face.

Gabrijela let out soft whimpers of pleasure, his cock spreading her and filling her to the brim. Sex was always amazing, the feeling of a cock in her. But Cillian... He was different. There was meaning to this. All of this. He was not taking her just for the sake of sex. She could see there was more.

And she felt the same. But she was hesitant about that 'further' bit. But right now, she would not dwell on it.

"Gabrijela?" His ragged voice brought her back. "Tell me you're okay."

"I am fine, Cillian. Oh, so, so fine." She pulled him down to kiss him. And that was when he started to move.

Slow, deep movements, his hips rolled into hers. In and out. Sliding, stretching her. Each dive of his hips sent electricity through her body.

She arched her back when he did so, his head was tucked into her neck as his arms were around her holding her tight to his body. He still trembled.

She clung to him, she could feel his sinewy muscles in his shoulders shift and tense as his body worked to pleasure her.

She then moved her arms to wrap around his waist a little, gripping him there as her legs spread wider for him.

With the building of the intense pleasure, their bodies became slick with sweat. He was growing more rougher, his grunts a wonderful song to her ears. Curses left both their now swollen lips from how much they kissed and still kissed. But sloppily.

Her hands roamed over his perfect body, touching him, memorising the stiffness, the angles, the dips and curves.

Cillian did the same, loving how her body was mesmerising. She was full and curvy, her body arching as he dove deep within her soul. He sat back a little, one hand beside her head. He held her leg up to his hip, the position making him go deeper than ever.

"Cillian!" She gasped, those pretty pink lips parted from the utter bliss he gave her. He made her feel this.

She dug her nails into his shoulders, looking down. The sheets had fallen back. His body outlined by the moonlight from outside. She could see how they were connected. How perfect their bodies seemed to fill each curve.

Like a missing puzzle piece.

Now Cillian was kneeling back, he held her legs wide and hooked over his arms as he held her thighs. She was lifted off the bed a little.

She let out a loud whine, he was going more deeper than ever. His cock reaching her special spot that his fingers could not.

She threw back her head, gripping the metal bars of the bedhead as she was thrown upwards from how hard he was fucking her.

The air was hot, sizzling and electric. Nothing could stop them, nothing could stop him as he ravaged her body with those delicate yet sinful hands. And his cock, which pumped in and out of her.

Her breasts bounced, the bed shaking a little.

His moans were growing louder despite him being quite quiet. He was getting close, he could feel it. The need to finish. But he wanted to hold out, he wanted her to finish on him. He wanted her to drag out his climax.

Gabrijela could not think of anyone but him. But the pleasure he doused her soul, her heart, her everything. She was close, her body was tensing up as she was ready to crash down.

"Keep going, Cillian. Oh!" She managed to gasp out. She could not form words at all, only moans and unintelligible sounds. Sounds she never knew that could come from her.

"Aw, fuck!" He cursed, voice cracking a little. He went harder, the sound of skin to skin filled the scorching air between them.

"Ah... Ah... Ah! Cillian! CILLIAN! OH GOD CILLIAN!" She drawled out his name in a loud, fantastic cry which he dropped her and claimed her lips in a kiss.

He thrust wildly, his climax ripping through him as he pounded into her and finished inside her. He gripped her undulating body to his, holding his hips to hers as he came and came.

Their moans mixed within their kiss, as he held her. They did not part from each other. Totally locked in. Body to body.

He did not want to part from her just yet, neither did she. His head dropped into the curve of her shoulder.

Their ragged breaths were the only sounds now left with the soft music which had dipped to a soft, gentle melody. As if the sound was easing them from the high they just experience.

Finally, Cillian rolled off her and laid on his back. They were a mess, a sweaty, flushed mess.

Gabrijela looked up at the ceiling, her breathing slowly coming back to normal. She could feel his warmth within her, it would leak out soon. She turned her head slowly, only to meed his eyes.

He reached up and touched her cheek, he looked so hot, his lips parted, cheeks red as sweat beaded on his forehead and his hair sticking to it.

"Gab..." He said breathlessly. "Gab talk to me." He said when she didn't reply.

She smiled, "Cilly," She murmured, groaning as she moved to her side and laid half on top of him. She kissed him softly.

"Tell me how you feel." He tangled his hand in her hair, his other hand on her waist. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" He rubbed his nose against hers.

"No. You didn't." She laid a hand on his chest, playing with his chest hair a little. "You gave me so much pleasure there are no words to describe how I am feeling after it all."

He laughed softly, "You might feel it in the morning." He nipped her lip.

"You that confident you fucked me that good, hm?" She nuzzled his nose.

"Totally." He squeezed her side.

"I can so agree with that. You did a wonderful job Cillian. I... I enjoyed it. All of it. I'd ride you but I'm so exhausted." She laid down on him.

"A satisfied woman gives me the greatest pleasure. Especially if it's you." He pulled up the sheets. Now the air had sizzled away, it grew cold.

"Such a flirt." She hummed.

"I'm grateful I made you feel good, Gabrijela. That's all I want to do. Make you happy. Feel utter bliss. My greatest goal is to make you feel like a queen." His words were soft, shy. But he was serious about it.

"You make me feel more than a queen, Cillian. You make me feel lots of things. They haven't invented the fucking words for it." She repeated a line from him.

He chuckled, "When you plan something well, there's no need to rush." He said it in his Tommy Shelby voice.

She had shivers, "So I was a plan, hm?" She looked up at him.

"Not exactly," He kissed her, "In a way. But you were more a... surprise. A real, good surprised that I am thoroughly pleased with."

She smiled and kissed him back before she laid her head back down and got comfy.

"As are you, Cillian. A surprised I had not expected." She murmured, eyes shutting as her satisfied body succumbed to exhaustion.

#cillian murphy #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #fanfiction

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cottonwren · 5 years

Text

A Well Dressed Woman | Part 8

Summary: Guns, and lots of them. Tommy is a confused sub and a good bro.

Words: 2005

A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH TO ANYONE WHO STILL CARES ABOUT THIS STORY! <3 Feedback and reblogs are the way to keep me writing consistently, and most of my stuff is out the way so I’m going to start on requests!

------

Jamie was a little out of it even after Tommy had dropped her home, and she had managed to get changed coherently before driving into the offices. Nothing felt off, so she parked the car normally and walked into the building, greeted by a smirk and familiar red hair, just where they needed to be.

“Morning, Jamie!” Linn smiled, wrapping her arms around her “Did you have a good night out with Tommy?” She asked with a smirk and an eyebrow wiggle “Or, better to say, good night in?”

“We had a good night, thank you. A very good night. His son is absolutely adorable” Jamie told her, taking her jacket off and hanging it on the hook. “How is business?” She asked, walking towards her office.

“Sales are up” Linn told her with pride in her voice “And nothing happened in your absence. I handled it well. You may go about your business, I am going to go do some math.”

“I’ll see you at lunch then, I’ll take you out to that cafe you like so much” Jamie winked, sitting down at her desk and waving Linn off.

“Tommy really has put you in a good mood, hasn’t he?” Linn teased before walking into her office, secluded down the hallway.

Jamie chuckled, muttering something under her breath and rolling her eyes. She got on with some neglected paperwork, humming a light tune under her breath - not something she’d ever done before.

“Jamie! Jamie, go! Run!” Came Samson’s voice like a panic siren, and then, like a staple through the worst accords, there was a gunshot. Jamie knew, then, that Samson was dead. Her first thought was not to go run for him, his family, his life. Her first thought was a curtain of ginger hair. Dashing through one of the doorways, she grabbed her guns and barrelled into Linn’s office.

She caught Linn getting her guns and barricaded the door. “Linn. Get the fuck out of the window, get home. Don’t stop driving. Go. Now” Jamie urged, the sound of countless gunshots making tears well as they came closer. She could lose everything, everything in the world, but she couldn’t have Linn gone. “Go! Linn, fucking go!”

Linn shook her head, aiming at the door “Jamie. I’m not a fucking child, and you can’t do this alone. We can’t risk what we’ve got”

“I can’t risk you, Linn Pine, now go” Jamie begged, her voice hearse with stress as she looked desperately at her sister.

The gunshot didn’t register until Linn’s accompanied it.

Linn had managed to shoot the man who had opened the door only a few seconds late. Jamie fell to the ground, clutching her hip, then staggered up with the gun, running out into the hallway after Linn.

Her vision was blurry as she clasped the side of her head. It was so loud. So loud. Everything was so loud. She could see Linn running towards the assailants, and she wished she could see anything but.

“Jamie! Jamie, stay awake!” Linn hollered through her haze, not taking her eyes off the people in front of her.

Jamie wished she’d stayed awake.

The room she woke up in was hardly a room, but a ward. Her head was ringing and her hip fucking ached - she peeled back the light covers and winced. Oh, no. She was definitely in hospital, and she definitely didn’t need to be there.

“Let me in there - I am incredibly close to the patient now let me fucking in there!” Ah, Tommy. Definitely Tommy. That coarse Birmingham accent that could cool and light parts of her simultaneously.

Tommy. That fucker. Her offices had been attacked - where was Linn? Where the fuck was Linn? She was distracted by Tommy and left herself open for attack. It was the Peaky Blinders. Tommy had killed her sister.

Tommy was let through, and he walked towards her - no, ran. He sat by her side, taking off his cap “Jamie, how do you feel?”

“I don’t know, how many of your men did my sister manage to kill, Tommy? Did she get the one that got me?” Jamie exploded, glaring at him with an intensity that still burnt even though they’d tied her hair up painfully messily and she was in the ugliest hospital gown going.

“What? Jamie - it was Sabini. Linn killed them all. I would never do that to you! Jamie, fucks sake... “ Tommy sighed, chuckling weakly “I have sorted Sabini, though I assume you’ll pay him a visit soon enough. Had a feeling his life wasn’t mine to take”

“It wasn’t. Thank you, Tommy. Where is Linn? Is she safe? Why isn’t she here?” Jamie was frantic once again. Her baby was gone.

“Linn is at the office, with John and Finn. I asked her which one of my brothers she wanted to shadow her until you were back, just to keep you safe, and she chose Finn - they know eachother. I made John go along for extra safety. She’s okay, alright? It’s all okay. I’ve got you” Tommy told her softly, only letting the gentle part of himself out when he knew it was vital.

Jamie relaxed into the hospital bed slightly, looking over at him “Why are you doing this, Tommy? You could have easily ignored it.” She asked, her hand resting on the end of the bed, there for Tommy to take if he was brave enough.

“And let my only real competition fall because of someone inconsequential?” Tommy chuckled, his fingers brushing hers before he took the jump and actually held her hand “I was also wondering if you wanted to go for dinner again? Maybe you could come and see the horses?”

“I’d love to, Tommy. Has anyone said what actually happened? When can I get back to the offices? I need to up the security in there, it’s vital… fancy getting me out now? If they say no, we can just… go”

“You were shot in the hip, narrowly missing your vital organs. Any further right and you could have been dead, apparently. You’ve only been under for a day. You should stay, it’s going to be alright without you for a while” Tommy told her, running his thumb gently over her knuckles, noticing the flickery scars on her hands.

“Tommy, I’m going to escape this hospital and you’re going to get me out” Jamie told him, overpowering him easily.

“Jamie…” Tommy looked taken aback, something strange flashing behind his eyes and suddenly he was struggling not to comply. He did his best though, bless his heart.

“No. We’re going. Where’s my suit?” Jamie bit back, maintaining the dominance over the situation that she loved having.

“In the cupboard, as are your shoes” Tommy told her honestly, not understanding why he was so quick to submit.

“Right. You’re going to hand me my clothes. Then you’re going to stand out in the hallway, then I’m going to walk out, and I’m going to go under the alias of being your sister. Good? Good” Jamie ordered, letting her hair down and running a hand through it. She needed to get out, she needed a drink, and she needed, most importantly, to see her sister. Linn would be freaking out, and the world will have gone to chaos.

“I’ll see you outside then” Tommy told her, laying her suit on the end of her bed and setting the shoes next to them. He took a fleeting glance at her before walking out and closing the white door behind him.

Jamie nodded, waiting till he was gone before swinging her legs out of the bed carefully, a loud yelp escaping her as she turned on her injured hip. “Fuck” She muttered, biting her lip so hard that she drew blood. Hobbling round to the end of the bed, she took the undershirt in her hands, slowly undoing the gown and hissing slightly at the feel of biting cold air on her bare skin. She pulled it over her shoulders, buttoning it up slowly, regretting sending Tommy out. Getting trousers, socks and shoes on would be hard. He couldn’t see her naked though. That would be bad.

She put on the shirt and buttoned it, pulling on her waistcoat afterwards. So good so far, though if the waistcoat had been anywhere lower, it would have been a massive issue. Picking up the trousers, she realised that it could be more of a challenge than she originally expected.

After a few attempts, she sat on the bed in her underwear and full upper suit. Jamie pulled the blanket over her legs to hide their nudity, and called out.

“Tommy? You still there?” Jamie called, not too loud - she didn’t want to alert anyone but him. A nurse coming in would be the worst possible outcome.

“Yeah.” He replied, obviously only inches from the door.

“I can’t fucking bend.” She told him, exasperated. Jamie was stressed out, and seconds she was wasting here meant seconds that Linn was left alone.

“Your hip does have a hole in it” The brummie remarked sarcastically, leaning against the opposite side door, smirk eminent in his voice.

“Tommy, I can’t get my fucking trousers on” Jamie reminded him, frustrated and getting angry “Unless you can get your trousers on without bending, you should see why”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. What the fuck do I do?” She followed up, knowing there was one thing he was bound to suggest.

“Want me to help?” He asked, the doorknob twitching slightly as if he was turning it.

“Fucks sake” Jamie groaned, the moral dilemma too much for her morphined brain to handle.

“I’ll be seeing your legs either way” He reminded her, already having opened the door a crack to hear her better.

“Fucking fine.” She huffed, rolling her eyes. The only person except from Linn that she would allow to see her in her underwear with no sexual subcontext was Sams- “Wait, Tommy, where’s Samson?”

“Your assistant?” Tommy checked as he closed the door behind him, walking towards her.

“Th- Tommy, is he dead?” Jamie asked as she peeled back the covers from her legs, gratefully taking them from where he had gently slid them up her legs and zipping up the fly.

“He died.” Tommy confirmed, rolling her socks up halfway her calves, doing his very best to pay attention to her mournful emotions whilst just having slid her trousers all the way up her legs. He had just dressed the girl he had been trying to get into bed with since he met her, and his mind was blown.

“Fuck. He had kids - beautiful kids, and his wife… oh, my god. I’ve widowed someone, Tommy” Jamie came to the heart crushing realisation just as he was lacing up her left shoe. “Fuck.” She willed herself not to cry, but everything was so much, and the morphine was making her have less control over herself.

“Sabini killed him, alright? Sabini, and Sabini’s men. Not you. You were shot trying to save your sister, and she lived. She lived, and wasn’t injured.” Tommy told her, tying up her right shoe and standing up “You did well” He grabbed her jacket and draped it over her shoulders, holding the lapels, holding her close.

“Alright. Thank you, Tommy. Now, let’s go to the offices, yes? Did Linn say how much they took?” Jamie asked - now the heart had had it’s way, the head could take over. What brought her heart back was the realisation that they were close. So close. Fuck - how many cigarettes did that man smoke? He practically eminated the smell. His warm breath fanned the bottom of her nose, and she swore her breath hitched.

Then, like the cocky bastard he was, Tommy stood straight, offering out his arm as if nothing had happened “They didn’t take anything. Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah” She muttered, rolling her eyes at his smirk. Jamie would say something if she wasn’t already hiding how flustered she was.

#Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders imagine #AWDW #im back!#peaky blinder headcanon #peaky blinders oneshot #peaky blinder #Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x oc #old writing

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doktorpeace · 5 years

Text

Top 5 Games Of The Year #2

Now this really and truly is a game where there’s not much I can say that isn’t just repeating something someone else has said, so this one’s gonna be short and sweet. Super Metroid is a masterpiece, it is known as one far and wide and has held that title for as many years as I’ve been alive. I never really thought it could match the expectation I, personally, had for what a game called ‘masterpiece’ should be. People have a big tendency it call SNES era games masterpieces just because they, personally, like them or grew up with them. I expected Super to be good since it’s still a first party Nintendo IP in the 90s and a lot of those have aged well but it somehow, someway, completely exceeded my expectations. This game does basically everything you could possibly want from a Metroid/Metroidvania style game. It has a great map with tons of alternate paths and secrets making exploration continuously fun while minimizing the necessary backtracking these games have. It’s got good, tense, boss fights and well placed enemies and threats. The world is DENSE with content, you can’t walk through a room without it having something hidden away, and some secrets are even hidden behind other secrets! There’s just a great, great sense of exploration and discovery throughout the entire game which is a trait I value more than any other in these kinds of games. Oftentimes when a secret path I’d take would link back up to a place I’d already been without me expecting it I’d be happily impressed by how intelligent the world design is and that the game was able to keep me from predicting that outcome based just on looking at the map! Not only is the sense of advancement with regards to exploration supremely good but the game also has a great sense of advancement in terms of Samus’ capabilities. She starts the game only a little agile and with little in the way of abilities other than the ability to aim and shoot. As someone who’d never seen a guide and knows nothing of the game before this, though, I was consistently finding power ups that meaningfully changed how I played like the Spazer Beam, lots of missile tanks, and eventually the Plasma Beam too. Not just with regards to major weapons but in terms of mobility too, learning how to master techniques such as the Shinespark and wall jumping really can change how you see the environment of the game! Wall Jumping isn’t something you have to unlock, you just have to know Samus can do it and that’s such cool and smart game design especially because if you turn her around while jumping near a wall she has a few frames of entering a new animation of bracing against the wall, hinting at this power before the native creatures of Zebes can teach you how later on! Using this I was able to figure out how to wall jump pretty early and used it to get into Kraid’s Lair before obtaining the High Jump Boots and that made me feel pretty smart. By only truly limiting a player’s ability to explore mostly by how much thinking they’re willing to do and how well they understand Samus’ movement options this game really encourages creative play and sequence breaking, which is super cool and something even games in this same genre nowadays don’t often do. The soundtrack is also an absolute classic, full of memorable tone setting pieces which just feel good to listen to. It also has Mother Brain shitting her guts out as a song for the final area so, like, that’s funny. The sound effects for all of Samus’ attacks and receiving damage are all suitably impactful too and even in and of themselves give a good feeling of advancement and progress. That’s really just the name of the game, Progress. This game makes you feel more powerful constantly, it is able to consistently reward players not just for progressing normally but for being willing to truly engage with the game world by exploring and finding new things. Rewarding you with content, more capabilities, and just generally having more fun. One thing I have to point out to is that despite having no dialogue and being minimal in the way of cutscenes after the opening sequence (which is well done and characterizes Samus very well) the game still has a definitive story which I would call more well done than a lot of games that are much more present or in your face. The narrative of Super Metroid, following Samus trying to reclaim the Baby Metroid from the end of Metroid 2 feels poignant and meaningful despite or perhaps because it basically never takes agency away from the player. Despite having no dialogue to explore Samus’ feelings the game manages to perfectly instill in the player motivation to continue and to convey how she feels about each advancement solely through the soundtrack and, eventually, a swell in power alone. I felt genuinely touched by this narrative all said and done and I think games trying to tell a wordless story could learn a lot from its example. The absolute only bad thing about this game is how the exit to Ridley’s Lair is hidden. A bit too obtuse for my liking given it’s just ‘Run through this wall with no environmental or contextual hint that you could possibly do so’ but even that’s completely excusable in the face of just how great the rest of this game is. Also working in a way to teach the players the Crystal Flash would be cool, but also just having one super secret technique like that is fine imo, especially in a game so intrinsically linked to mystery and discovery. Nothing I can say can do Super Metroid justice. If, like me, you’ve never player it before and ESPECIALLY if like me you’re still blind to the majority of the game PLEASE do yourself a favor and play it. Metroid is a gorgeous, fun, and time tested game. It is truly one of the all time greatest games ever developed and it more than deserves your attention and time. The most impressive part probably is that Super Metroid packs such a dense, fun, amazing experience a whole adventure that feels complete and in which so SO much happens into just a few hours. Play this game, it’s so widely available and so good, it’s definitive of an entire genre for a reason and these aren’t nostalgia blinders I have on saying this! I played this game for the first time at the age of 24 in 2018 and I feel so strongly about this game. Honestly I want to say even more but explaining what makes this game great is a disservice compared to just experiencing it. Please, PLEASE play this game.

#Super Metroid #Dok's GotY 2018

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dazedandinked · 5 years

Text

Bad man, sad man - (Chapter 2/2)

Chapter 1: https://dazedandinked.tumblr.com/post/183189058536/bad-man-sad-man-chapter-12

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17984987/chapters/42482834

Fandoms: Peaky Blinders (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett

Additional tags: Crossover, Alternate Universe, Season 3 Spoilers, Mentioned Character Death, Strangers to Friends, Friendship, Humor, Light Angst, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending.

Chapter summary:

Many other nights followed that first drink at the Garrison. Crowley had the chance to meet the Shelby family and to share small little secrets with Tommy.

But all the good things in life come to an end.

A/N: So here it is! I know this work is quite short but maybe there'll be more of this odd crossover in the future.

You can find it on

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17984987/chapters/42762287

Chapter 2: But my dreams they aren't this empty

Many other nights followed that first drink at the Garrison. Sometimes they met in Birmingham, sometimes in London where Tommy had business with Mr. Solomons (another odd man Crowley had the not-pleasure to meet.) Sometimes he visited Tommy at his house or in Watery Lane, therefore he had the chance to meet the Shelby family.

They were friends, somehow, and this was something new to both of them. Crowley have always had nothing but Aziraphale and their weird, century-old friendship (because it wasn't just an alliance anymore); Tommy had his noisy extended family, but he couldn't really say he had a friend since Freddie Thorne, and things got complicated after the war.

During their evenings they drank, smoked and talked, a lot. Sometimes alone, sometimes with Ada or Polly and, after a while, Crowley found himself quite enjoying their company as well. He liked discussing communist principles with Ada (something the world thought coming straight from hell) and talking about religion and occultism with Polly. They were sharp and clever, obviously the force holding the family and the business together. He couldn't understand why men were so convinced of their gender supremacy. Really.

And then, there were his brothers.

In Crowley’s eyes, the Shelby siblings were basically a heap of angst, rage and cheekbones. Nevertheless, he could understand why ordinary people were so respectful towards them. Arthur a crazy horse, wrecked to the core but still trying to pull his shit together; John didn’t seem to know what to do half of the time (but fortunately he had Esme, helping him the other half); Finn was just a kid trying to act like his elder brothers.

Last but not least Michael, their cousin: secure and restrained on the outside, scared and full of doubts on the inside. A bit like Tommy, Crowley thought after talking to him for a while.

With the right amount of alcool in their blood, they shared many bits of their private lives: Tommy talked about Grace and Charlie, about the war and his nightmares, and Crowley rambled too many things about himself and, sometimes, about Aziraphale. He vaguely remembers mentioning the fact that he had met Byron in person, and that he was a pompous haughty arse.

But they had some kind of agreement on not talking about work and business.

"It's not a matter of trust,” Tommy explained once, "it's just tha-- I prefer leaving all that stuff at the office, whenever I can.”

And they never discussed about Crowley always wearing sunglasses and the yellow eyes Tommy was sure they were covering. A trick of lights, the man said to himself, or some kind of disease. Or maybe he just preferred ignorance for once in his life.

***

Months passed, with more meetings and dinners, but Crowley and Aziraphale never talked about this Tommy-thing properly. After all the time they’ve known each other, it was nice to still have a secret just for himself. And besides, although Crowley would never admit it, he was a bit nervous about the angel’s opinion on the matter.

He mentioned Tommy once or twice during their conversations, elegantly avoiding every subtle question and curious glance, until Aziraphale decided to bring all this secrecy to an end.

The topic casually popped out during one of their long strolls in St. James, while they were planning one of their usual dinners.

“Oh, not Friday, sorry. Going to Birmingham.”

“Again? Really?” Aziraphale asked, his voice high pitched.

“What, are you jealous?” Crowley sniped back with a smirk on his face.

“Of course not!” Liar, the demon thought. The angel frowned, recollecting his thoughts while feeding the ducks.

“It’s just— I’m a bit surprised. I know you enjoy some human things but, you’ve never shown affection to humankind.”

“I’m a demon, I think it’s normal,” he shrugged, trying to hide himself behind his glasses.

Aziraphale chuckled, the sound of small bells coming from his mouth. “Please, dear, we both know you are not… conventional. And don’t get me wrong, it’s a good thing. This Thomas, he must be something if you’re so fond of him.” He threw the last piece of bread into the pond and they started walking again, side by side.

“I don’t think fondness is the right word. He needed help, I did my black magic thing. End of the story.”

“Because you’re a very diligent demon, of course,” the angel said wryly and Crowley rolled his eyes.

“Fine. I helped him because — I don’t even know. But his voice was so clear, his pain so real that I couldn’t help following it,” he finally admitted.

Then Aziraphale did something Crowley didn’t expect, at all. He put his hand on the demon’s arm, squeezing slightly. Physical contact was a line they crossed only for special occasion. Crowley looked at him with wide eyes and the angel withdrew his hand immediately, blushing under all the tiny freckles on his cheeks.

Aziraphale sighed. “You did something nice, it must have felt good. I can’t even remember the last time I interacted with a human being like this. Just small things to help them, our duty is to keep balance, they said.

He looked really sad and Crowley hated it with all of his heart. Melancholy didn’t look good on that pretty face. Maybe this could sound like a stereotype, but Aziraphale have always been the one good at comforting. Crowley didn’t know what to do in this kind of situation, but he would definitely make an attempt to swipe that gloomy expression away.

Stupid Archangels who give stupid orders.

“We’ve got plenty of time to fix that. What I’ve done, it was anything special. Just answer a call or two, there are so many humans that need a guardian angel”, and he gave him what was supposed to be a warm and reassuring smile (like Aziraphale would do), but that probably looked more like a crooked grin. But the angel deeply appreciated it anyway.

“Unless you are so scrupulous you want to stick to Heaven’s rules,” Crowley said amused, finally managing to get a small smile out of Aziraphale.

“Oh and, by the way, I’m not sure you’d define helping Tommy as the right choice,” he added. “He’s kind of a gangster, who knows what kind of dangerous shady business he—,”

“What?!” Aziraphale looked at him in disbelief, “You mean, the first time you take an interest in mankind ever, it is because of a dejected gangster?!” and his voice high pitched again.

Aw, Crowley thought, that’s my finicky boy.

“Are you surprised? Really? I’m not a saint and I don’t do charity. I like humans with a moral sense as twisted as mine,” he sneered.

Crowley walked away, leaving Aziraphale behind. He didn’t need to see his face to know it was red with disapproval and indignation.

“Oh, Crowley, I can’t believe it! Yo— you’re—”

“Fabulous? I know, Angel. And please don’t judge him from his job. Now, you have centuries of helping old ladies with their bags to catch up with. Chop chop!”

***

But all the good things in life come to an end, like a bottle of fine whiskey. This thought strikes Crowley’s mind every time, even though he should have learnt the lesson by now.

The day Tommy died, he got a call from Ada. He could hear the light tremble in her voice.

“I thought you might like to know,” she just said. He got all the details about the funeral and hung up the phone.

He knew that day would come since the beginning. Tommy was just a man, after all. No matter how long his life would last, it wouldn’t have been enough.

Crowley kept himself busy for the couple of days before the funeral. He had to make calls, meet people and ask for favors. He also asked Aziraphale for help, hushing him before he could start rambling about feelings and grief, forcing a cup of tea in his cold hands.

The price was high but, in the end, he had what he wanted.

It’s a nice place for a funeral, Crowley thought stepping out his car. He gazed at the thin line where the green fields met the sky. A small group of people, all dressed in black, was gathering slowly around a wooden cart. He stayed away from them, watching Tommy’s family crying and giving their farewell. Only Ada spotted him; she waved at him sheepishly, grabbing Karl’s shoulder with the other hand.

Tommy was watching them too, sitting on a fallen trunk beside the cart. His face was calm as usual, not even blinking when he noticed Crowley staring right at him.

“You dont’ look surprised to see me,” the demon said mildly amused, and sat next to him.

“I suppose not,” Tommy answered like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Always the most unpredictable, and for the first time he didn’t avoid thinking about how much he’d have missed him.

Tommy asked for a last cigarette together and Crowley made them appear. They just stayed there, smoking in silence. At some point, Crowley took his sunglasses off, finally giving his friend a full sight of his yellow snaky eyes. Tommy huffed a smile.

“They look… appropriate on you,” and the demon couldn’t help laughing.

But then the man sighed heavily. “Do I need to leave immediately? And will— will you take me there?”

“I will, but there’s no hurry. We can go whenever you’re ready”

Tommy nodded in acknowledgment.

They sat there for a while longer, watching the cart burning slowly. He inhaled the last breath of his cigarette and stood up, giving a last glance at his family.

“Keep an eye on them, on Charlie, would you?”

Of course he wasn’t the right creature for something like that, but he decided to indulge his friend’s last wish.

“I’ll try,” and he put his pale hand on Tommy’s shoulder.

They looked at each other, a tiny smile on their faces, and then they vanished into thin air.

***

Many years later, Crowley was hurrying across the streets of London when he stumbled across a small handmade hat shop. Between sharp top hats and bowlers, he noticed a grey flat cap in the right corner of the shop window. The demon crossed the door wearing his most amiable smile, bought the hat and left in a few minutes.

He kept it in a small box at the top of his closet and, sometimes, he wore it just to remember.

(And Aziraphale never stopped joking tenderly about it.)

#good omens #Peaky Blinders #Fanart #fanfiction #CrossOver #crowley #Tommy Shelby #aziraphale #good omens fic #peaky blinders fic #my artwork

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cynthiadshaw · 4 years

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Perspective & Advice for Those Facing Insurmountable Odds

Throughout our journey with Voyage, the one thing we have learned over and over is that hidden within every challenge is a blessing or opportunity. It’s up to us to determine whether a challenge we face will be a step back or the catalyst for a step forward.

We had the honor of connecting with some of the city’s brightest leaders and role models and we asked them our question of the month: What is the best advice you have for someone who feels like they are facing insurmountable odds.

Below, you’ll find their advice and links and other info so you can learn more about them, their work and how to connect with them. We’ll be interviewing many of these amazing individuals in the coming weeks, stay tuned.

Liliana Garcia | Dallas Blogger

My advice is to never give up. There will be times that you are faced with challenges and obstacles, but you should do your best to keep moving forward! Every successful person has dealt with similar situations. There will be good phases and bad phases. You just have to keep fighting for your dreams and passion! It’s ok to take a break and reevaluate your approach sometimes-but don’t give up!

Website: https://www.coffeewithlilly.com Instagram: @lillynillyy Facebook: https://m.facebook.com/lillynillyy

Victoria Raines | Media Influencer & Photographer

Stop. Look. Listen Stop. Take a deep breath. Look. If you think what is in front of you is impossible, look behind you at all of what you have already overcome. Listen. What is your heart saying to do? Some situations can only be overcome by being true to yourself.

Instagram: @v.daniellephotos, @itsyourgirlvic Youtube: @itsyourgirlvic Email: [email protected]

Ashley Allen-Founder of The Grand Ivory

Hard work, time, and believing in yourself are essential in achieving success. Facing obstacles are a given, but it’s how you react to them that will define your path. Every experience you go through will make you stronger and more knowledgeable.

Website: www.thegrandivory.com Instagram: @thegrandivory

Ken Chalk | Fitness Professional & Content Creator

As silly as it sounds the best advice I can give when facing insurmountable odds is to just trust the process. I do believe that everything happens in due time and when it is meant to happen it’ll come to fruition.

Stay true to yourself and know that if the odds are always against you it just means that you are meant to learn something from your experience.

Website: www.kensfitnesscorner.com Instagram: @kens.fitness.corner

Kati Long | Lake Highlands Social

My best advice for someone who feels like they are facing insurmountable odds is to assess your situation and prioritize what you have left to accomplish. This will allow you to focus more on the larger tasks and have less things bogging you down. Chipping away at your tasks a little every day will help you have a sense of accomplishment and provide you some confidence to carry on. Allow yourself some grace and accept that not everything is going to be perfect and seamless. You can accomplish what you set your mind to! Instagram: @lakehighlandssocial

Joanna Latham | Owner of Jo Latham Fine Jewelry

We first have to open our hearts and minds and accept what we cannot change and focus on the things that we can. Never underestimate creativity, hard work, a positive attitude and asking for help when you need it. We are not alone in this world. Approach your challenge by taking small bites out of the problem, never try to tackle something big when you are tired…a good night’s sleep is the best remedy. Believe in yourself, believe in silver linings when things don’t go your way, and be willing to go the extra mile!

Website: www.jolatham.com Instagram: @jolatham Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jolathamjewelry/

Joshua Espinosa | Fitness, Health & Wealth Enthusiast

I’ve had so many different kinds of struggles in life, from money problems to relationship issues. You can’t ever give up on who you believe you are. Regardless of how you may sometimes look to others. You gotta stay true to yourself, keep your head up & always take the advice of your closest friends with a grain of salt. But make sure you take it. Always push forward and don’t EVER give up. I’m here for anyone who is doubting themselves. I’ve been there many times. I feel like I’ve gotten past hurdles that would stop most In their tracks. I’m here to share those experiences.

Instagram: @j_aint_eezy

David Oun | H.M.C.I.C. (Head Mother Clucker In Charge)

I would say the best advice to give someone facing insurmountable odds would be to keep at whatever they are doing till the very end with good and positive attitude. I’m actually facing the issue myself with my location being extremely hidden in a part of town no one frequents, and plagued by bad construction. I’m going at it everyday giving it 100% being as positive as I can. For me it’s extremely important especially while talking to customers and letting them know my story and my passion for food. For me if I make it through this I will know that by hard work and grit paid off. If it does unfortunately fails though I can move on my life knowing I tried my best and hopefully be successful in my future endeavours.

Website: https://mothercluckertx.com Instagram: @mothercluckertx

Utsav Singh | Personal trainer, Competitive Fitness athlete and Model

In life, there is no success without failure. Life is full of obstacles, and when you’re going through the bad times eventually it will end. The key is to take a step back, rethink, focus, make a strategy to follow and stick to it. Eventually, you will overcome any odds and it will be more gratifying that you didn’t let the bad times keep you down. Believe in yourself and keep up the “I got this!” mentality. Instagram: @saltysingh__ Youtube Link: https://youtu.be/4kh1LbTzLlc

Cindy Kerr | Managing Partner/Owner of Get Cozy of Dallas, LLC

My advice is to focus on opposites, for anything that appears as insurmountable there is an opposite, something that is attainable. I dissect the challenge down to its core to understand how to conquer it piece by piece. Applying the knowledge, skills, talent and determination you have used to achieve in the past will help you achieve again. It may take longer than you hoped, or happen in a different order, but in the end, your discipline and innate qualities that have made you successful in the past will make you successful again. It’s hard not to feel overwhelmed, or fearful, we’ve all be there, chase away the fear, seek perspective and conquer it. Then when you do, take time to celebrate the victory large or small, remember the feeling of accomplishment, and have the confidence to take on anything in your path!

Website: www.bubblesandbrewbar.com Instagram: @bubblesandbrewsdallas Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/bubblesandbrewsdallas Email: [email protected]

Miriam hernandez | Local Baker

My advice to anyone that is facing insurmountable odds is to understand that you must keep an open mind to all possibilities. Start off by visualizing and writing down your goals. You are capable of achieving anything you set your mind to. Things don’t happen from one day to another you must be patient. Accepting failure is something important , as you may fall , but it’s solely up to you to get back up and continue to push for your dreams. Remember that it’s okay to start back from zero, learn from previous mistakes, to achieve greater outcomes. As I once read “Done be afraid to take the WHISK!”.

Instagram: @choco_sweets1 Facebook: https://m.facebook.com/Chocosweets19/?ref=bookmarks

Bailey Shelton | Hairstylist & Make up Artist

My best advice for someone who is facing insurmountable odds is..this could be a blessing in disguise, the push you needed or the door opening that changes your future. I had my dream job, I loved being a full time make up artist, I couldn’t imagine doing anything different. I loved the relationships I had with my coworkers and on air talent. Then I got laid off, it was crushing and I didn’t know what to do next, but realized that this was my chance to go back to school and get my cosmetology license. The timing ended up being perfect. I went back graduated school, received my license and now work at salon. I still have amazing relationships with my coworkers and now my clients. I am still a make up artist at heart and continue to do make up but I’ve learned new skills that have broadened my career. Now I love and couldn’t imagine doing anything different. So you never know, some of your hardest days may turn to be the most rewarding and may lead you to something that will forever change your future! Instagram: @Beauty_bybailey

Adela Chavez | Calligrapher and Invitation Designer

I think it best when trying to accomplish something that feels insurmountable, to put blinders on and stay on your own path. This is your own unique adventure to travel through and if you start to pay too close attention to others in your field, you may start to make decisions or pivot based on where they are in their adventure. I heard once “Don’t ever compare your start to someone else’s middle”. I think that statement rings so true. Starting a business carries with it all the emotions, fear, anxiety, excitement, disappointment, accomplishment, and more. Listen closely to your intuition, it has already gotten you this far, keep your head down and as much as you can enjoy the adventure. It’s worth it, every step of the way.

Website: http://www.adelachavez.com/ Instagram: @adelachvz

Fort Worth Music Academy | music lessons for kids and adults

Break down the insurmountable into manageable chunks. schedule out each smaller task. for example, in music practice, instead of thinking “it’s going to take me years to get good!,” ask, “what small tasks need to be accomplished today to move me forward?” chords- 5 min, rhythm- 5 min improv- 10 min songs- 10 min. Now you have a 30 min daily plan that is very doable and prevents overwhelm

Website: https://www.fortworthmusicacademy.com/

Bessy Martinez-Founder | Photographer & Social Media Strategist

Don’t give up on sharing with others what you have to offer. You have a story and you’d be doing a disservice to yourself and the community if you let your fear of failure take the best of you. Remember it’s not about the destination but about the journey that got us there. So do it scared, do it unprepared, but do it because it’s what lights up your soul. The next challenge in your life your face, you’ll walk in better prepared and more confident to fight again. Instagram: @bgmmediagroup Facebook: @bgmmediagroup

Maria Leal | Believer, wife, Mom & hairstylist

It can’t rain forever! Focus on the positive and believe that this shall pass too. Don’t get discouraged and settle, the best part of your life is still up ahead. I’m feeling exactly like this at this moment and this verse keeps me going… God reminds me that it doesn’t matter what I go through , He will always be with me. Life it’s hard, circumstances change your life, people’s decisions change your life or even your own bad choices make a huge impact in your life.

You just gotta keep pushing, keep believing that everything we go through shapes our character and will determine who you will be. Get the best out it, learn from it!

Instagram: @hairstylistmarialeal Email: [email protected]

Scott White | Deep Red/Duell

I would say to keep in mind your goal and accept that you won’t reach it easily in most cases. The hardest obstacles never seem as difficult when you break them out on paper. Writing a song is just making the decision to sit in a room with your guitar or your pen and making noise until you notice the right thing and it carries you off. Every song I’ve written feels like the last one until the next one surprises me. The world surrounding your goal, problem, or solution isn’t the problem nearly as often as you may be to yourself. So breathe, fuck up, and accept that things may not work. But you’ll learn and do it again just a little better the next time.

Website: https://deepredtx.bandcamp.com/releases Instagram: @deepredband

Osmin Sariles Founder | General Manager

Our best advice to someone facing insurmountable odds is Believe in yourself! Pray & Believe! Prayer changes things, be Thankful for everyone and everything. Find the support and the help in your family and friends. Never give up on yourself, stay focus and confident of your talents and skills. Put positive energy towards your goals, work hard and remain passionate. We all have the power instilled in us to be successful and achieve our goals, we just have to believe in ourselves.

Website: https://www.casamialatincuisine.com Instagram: @CasaMiaLatinCuisine Facebook: @CasaMiaLatinCuisine

BCT Plans It | Your party planning sisters

YOU WILL GET THROUGH THIS. You’re not the first to go through whatever it is that you’re facing and you won’t be the last. Keep your head held high and hold on to even the smallest ounce of faith. Dig deep into a book, a podcast, or a friend that covers the topic of your struggle or has went through something similar. That sense of community can take away that feeling of isolation we so often feel when faced with insurmountable odds. Instagram: @bctplansit

Ashlea Sapp | Marketing & Sales Strategist

Never give up. Whatever you are going through right now will pass. No one ever succeeded or got where they wanted without failing along the way. It’s about the journey and learning how to overcome the obstacles. One day you will look back and see how far you’ve come. Instagram: @ashleasapp

472Nero | Fort Worth Artist

Now matter what your struggles are that your goin through, no matter how big the obstacles may seem that you have to endure, keep your faith and believe in yourself. God will never put to much on you that you can’t handle.

https://music.apple.com/us/album/from-the-trenches-single/1493370752

Cathleen | food blogger and photographer

If someone was going through insurmountable odds, my advice to them is to hang on and give it time. We have bad times in life so that we learn to appreciate the good times.

Website: Catchows.wordpress.com Instagram: @Catchows

Jose Argenis Rodriguez | Licensed professional Barber and Co-owner of Beard & Bristle men’s grooming Located in Allen Tx

Sometimes all you need to do is take a step back and look at how far you’ve come. We can get so distracted by our daily tasks that we forget about the challenges we’ve already overcome. Take a deep breath and focus on what you can control in the moment. Take things one step at a time and remember it’s ok if you don’t have it all figured out. Instagram: @argenis @_barbero @beardandbristle

Chris Shoemaker | Home Loan Advisor, TREC CE Instructor, and Wedding Officiant

At times, insurmountable odds will be found on our path to where we want to be. Anyone with a goal or dream is going to face resistance, and we should anticipate this. I grew up very rural, had to have bi-lateral knee surgery when I was 12 years old in order to straighten my legs and ensure I’d still be able to walk later in life, was the first person in my family to achieve a college degree, became an officer in the US Army, and now run a successful home lending team and real estate network that I’ve developed from the ground up since moving to Dallas with no personal support network. Combined with being the type of individual that often places unrealistic expectations of myself, battles negative self talk daily, and deeply internalizes grief and struggle – I am no stranger to feeling like there’s always a mountain of insurmountable odds between myself and achieving my aspirations. I’ve ultimately come to expect these challenges. I believe we all must. We could likely choose easier paths in life and possibly avoid these challenges, but where would be the fun in that? Decades from now, when I’m looking back on my life, the decisions I made, the odds and obstacles I had overcome – I will have no regrets.

Website: rdhloans.com/chris, mortgagelendersouthlake.com, rdhloans.com Instagram: @thechrisshoemaker

Laura Lester | Artist / Mom

“They call me Mommy” When I am asked how it is being a mama to three, my answer is something to the effect of “ It’s incredibly rewarding and self-fulfilling!” Honestly, I don’t feel that way… at least not all the time. For me, this reality is a lonely place to be. Don’t get me wrong- it’s not a quiet loneliness! Let me just say I’ve grown accustomed to drinking coffee cold; My three daughters, ages 5, 3, and 1, are very energetic and have imp-like curiosities. There are painting nights and rock collections and nature hikes and trips to the library. There are hugs and kisses and nose “boops” and giggles… you know, the good stuff! There’s also the reality of the minute to minute- complaining about (fill in the blank,) sisters pulling each other’s hair, mood swings, hustling the eldest one out of the door every morning for school, sleepless nights…. and the list goes on. There are days where a shower and real clothes feel like something other worldly and times I feel like a complete failure- that I’m raising wild animals!

Then I remember that I’m only one person. That I’m not designed to handle it all myself. To think I could do so is a total lie! I believe that life gets hectic to physically remind us of our need for our tribe. My family, friends, and my Faith are all a part of this child rearing journey. In those moments where it all seems like too much, I meditate. I make a list. I carve out a few minutes to create. I GIVE MYSELF GRACE. Then slowly I do a basic needs check- have I had a shower today? Brushed my teeth? Had a glass of water? A nourishing meal? Made a personal affirmation? Many times at least one of these basic needs has been sacrificed to meet the needs of others. As my girls get older, I’m working on making my daily needs a priority. Seeing myself as a part of THEIR team helps me to take care of myself so I can show up for them. I won’t lie- it’s hard! But with the right mindset and small steps towards my goal it’s ok for it to be hard- but it’s not impossible.

“The Artist” As a freelancer, much like being a mother, has its highs and lows. It can be a lonely place, especially when starting out and navigating how you want to create a thriving business. But when asked how it is freelancing, guess what my “go to“ answer is?

I leave out the gritty reality it can be. How lost and isolated you can feel in the beginning. For me, there were so many ideas I wanted to explore but fear held me back. What if no one buys what I make? What if it’s not well received? Believe me, I sure had my moments of that! But with time, and a willingness to shift when something didn’t work, it got better. There are highlights! Making connections, your first sale. Designing something that both makes you happy and generates income! (Oh happy day!) I’ve learned to give myself grace in those moments where I had a great idea that doesn’t make any sales, or get a negative/ awkward experience with a client. I now choose to view those moments as a way to learn how it can work better in the future instead of letting them consume my day. Again, it’s a lot of highs and lows… sometimes all at once!

When I feel low I cannot be in that space longterm. It’s important to feel all feelings, but I can’t wallow. Creating a bit of manageable structure helps me to see my potential and helps create a positive mindset. A business planner/ workbook has really helped me to focus my limited time and energy. I feed a positive mindset through listening to podcasts and maintaining relationships with my dear friends, many of whom are artists and/ or moms themselves. These tools and strategies are working for me, and helping me switch the “go to” narratives I’ve become accustomed to using as answers to the questions about what “I do.”

If you have ever felt similarly, know that you are not alone. Raising children and growing a creative business are a lot to take on. Both are raw, unfiltered, and (at times) rewarding in ways you couldn’t have imagined. Like anything worthwhile, it takes time to see the fruits of your labor.

There’s not one thing that magically fixes stressors or problems in life. It takes grace (heap fulls of it!) for you and others. It takes a little structure to manage the chaos. It takes honesty when you need a little support. And the biggest thing it takes? Showing up for yourself and your tribe- no matter what!

Website: https://www.etsy.com/shop/LLesterArt Instagram: @llesterart

Elaina Bryant | Creator of the lifestyle blog Elainafaye

I would say that if you are facing insurmountable odds in a situation and wanting to give up, you need to, one, remind yourself of your “why”. Why are you chasing after your dream? why are you going after that job promotion? Why do you want to change your life? Your “why” is your motivation. Because once you conquer those odds the reward will be worth the pain, the headaches, and the struggles. Two, find an accountability partner. Someone who is going to give sound advice and support you through your journey. Three, prayer. My belief is that I don’t have the power or knowledge to get through things on my own so I need lots of prayers to give me strength and hope.

I understand that struggles of facing insurmountable odds. There have been many times that I’ve faced them. But you have to remember that it’s going to suck, you are going to feel hopeless, frustrated, angry, and defeated. You will be stretched and pushed outside your comfort zone. However, you will come out stronger, wiser, and thankful. I can look back and remember that in those difficult moments I was so confused and frustrated with what I was going through but now I can look back and see the lessons that it taught me and those odds have shaped me into the person that I am today.

Website: www.elainafaye.com Instagram: @Elaina.faye Facebook: @elainafayeoffical

Marlen Alimanov | Photographer and freelance principal ballet artist

Just keep fighting. I like to look back at the famous people in history and remind myself of the trials and struggles that they went through. No matter how hard things get, just keep your mind set on your goals and don’t stop believing in yourself.

Website: https://www.malimanovphotography.net/ Instagram: @m_alimanov_photography

Chris Ayala | Gym Owner / Master Trainer

Sometimes the ones who are the most successful are the ones who face the most difficult struggles. In the end, the person you become from the journey is what’s going to determine how successful you will be in life. Take each challenge as a chance to learn, improve, and master. The more you master along the way the faster and further you will grow in life.

If you feel like your ever facing insurmountable odds, don’t quit, you could be one step away from your next big breakthrough.

All you need to do is stay focused. Instagram: @chrisayalafitness Facebook: @chrisayalafitness

Becki Willis | Blogger, Speaker, & Counselor

To become our most beautiful selves, we must go through the pain of life. Choosing to lean in to the grief and pain that faced me 6 years ago has shaped me into the person I am today. When you face those inevitable insurmountable odds, lean in to the discomfort and allow yourself to go through the metamorphosis that awaits you.

Website: www.jarsofhopeministries.com Facebook: www.facebook.com/jarsofhopeministries

Flavor of the Island |Fernando and Selina Sosa / Chef & Owner | Jeremiah Sosa | Sous Chef

FIGHT

Focus on your dream, don’t allow anything to knock you off track.

Invest in your dream, financially, physically, mentally, and emotionally.

Give 100% while working. No distractions.

Hold strong during tough times.

Take a step back, breathe and think through every decision. Any mountain can be overcome with fight and commitment. One of the hardest experiences we’ve had is slow starts and minimal income. However, staying committed to your dreams and not backing down will reap great benefits in the end. There has not been one person we have met that has not shared a story of their rise to greatness. What I have learned is that they did not quit. Prepare yourself for sleepless nights, early mornings, and some tears. Stay committed, stay on course, do not give up, it will be worth it in the end. FIGHT! Don’t give up on your dreams.

Facebook: @Flavoroftheislands Instagram: @Flavoroftheislandstx Twitter: @Flavorislandtx

John Roberts | AIA

The best advice that I have is to have faith. Your faith that everything will work out will lead you down a path that will work itself out.

Website: www.fortwortharchitecture.com Facebook: www.facebook.com/FortWorthArchitecture Instagram: @FortWorthArchitecture Twitter: www.twitter.com/FortWorthForum

Swapnil Sharma | Team Lead at The Sharma Group

When you are up against insurmountable odds you have to keep pushing through and fighting. Be the person that takes all the punches and gets up and keeps going.

Website: https://www.swapnilsharma.com/

Gladys Alvizo | Local Fort Worth Photographer

My Best advice I can give someone that is facing insurmountable. Will be don’t give up! You got this. Take a deep breath, brainstorm your difficulties, set your Goal. Don’t be afraid to make the jump to change your life. Instagram: @ghiplady_photos

Stage Works | Design and Fabrication for Luxury Events

Take a step back and try to see the situation from a different perspective. Often times simply adjusting your angle of approach will enable you to figure out a solution, defy the odds, and create a small miracle in the process.

Website: stageworksusa.com Instagram: @stage_works Facebook: stageworksusa

Jordan Petty | Lagree Pilates Instructor & Wellness Advocate

Photo by: Ashton Steele

I’m a firm believer in my faith. I truly believe that God works on our behalf, even when we don’t see or understand it. Trust the journey. I’ve been through many trials where I’ve had to step back and refocus my perspective. My husband and I just recently went through the hardest trial of our married life- it felt like a complete and insurmountable wilderness that we were walking through, almost like we’d never see a victory again. But now we’re here. Finally on the other side, celebrating this life because of how the alignment and timing of everything truly works out perfectly. Take your eyes off the temporary. I promise you, whatever you are facing, the joy at the end is far greater than the pain you are experiencing right now. Don’t stop believing for your victory and don’t stop having faith. You can’t have real joy unless you have genuine faith and you can’t have genuine faith unless you’ve gone through REAL pain. Maybe this pain is what you’ve prayed for. His ways don’t always make sense to us in the storm, but they are good. God is doing on your behalf what you cannot even see or fathom. You will see victory.

Website: www.jordanpetty.com, www.studio6fitness.com, www.ashtonsteelephotography.net Instagram: @ashtonlsteele, @jordanfieldspetty

Aimee Boss | Environmental Scientist and Traveler Enthusiast

Feeling that there is no way out or no way you can accomplish something is incredibly overwhelming. I can absolutely relate. Simplistically, it’s a problem. Look at all options to solve it and reach out to others if you can’t see a solution. Don’t underestimate the value of somebody else’s advice or resources. Keep an open mind and take it one day at a time.

Instagram: @akeentraveler

Jenn D. Ridgeway | Portrait and Wedding Photographer

I feel like my life has been a series of insurmountable odds. 😉 My journey to photography started because of a devastating circumstance. Honestly, having the odds stacked against me has taught me to fight harder for my dreams and to push when I feel like I cannot stand! I think of it as hiking; the harder the climb, the more sweet the victory. When things come easy we tend to appreciate them less. In the midst of facing what may seem like a hike you cannot make, remember the prize. Think about planting that flag on top of the summit of Mt. Everest. It will be worth it. Never stop pushing! Plus, once you make it, you can look back at those insurmountable odds and say “I DID IT ANYWAY!”

Instagram: @jennmarkphotography Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jennmarkphotography/

The post Perspective & Advice for Those Facing Insurmountable Odds appeared first on Voyage Dallas Magazine | Dallas City Guide.

source http://voyagedallas.com/2020/02/03/perspective-advice-facing-insurmountable-odds/

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normalforglastonbury · 6 years

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Even Glastonbury can seem dull and grey on a cold November morning when the Winter light bleaches all the colour from the Town. On days like these, we need reminders of sunshine. As I pass through the narrow alleyway of the Gauntlet, the rainbow colours of the crockery in Steve and Jan’s shop always catch my eye. I’m reminded of a Winter I spent in Andalusia in Southern Spain, where these jugs, bowls and dishes are made.

Popping into the shop, for a pair of tights or a gift, I’ve always received a friendly welcome and inevitably ended up in a conversation. Steve and Jan display a genuine warmth and interest in their customers and the community. They tell me they started off with one tiny unit in the Gauntlet ‘Steve and Jan’s Mini Emporium’ but have expanded to three shops selling clothes, ceramics, kitchenware, tights, bags and scarves, The new outlets are ‘Socks, Crocks and Frocks’ and ‘Our Other Shop Ltd’. They joke that they are running ‘Glastonbury’s Smallest Department Store’.

They were keen to offer one essential item – pants. Jan tells me “We’re sinking the myth that you can’t buy knickers in Glastonbury!”. They thought about calling the clothes shop ‘Pants on Fire’.

Jan first came to Glastonbury in 1985, as Purchasing Manager for a large printing business. She has also worked in the construction industry, including 7 years at Glastonbury firm Snows Timber. Steve moved to Somerset in 1993. He’d not heard of Glastonbury but found himself drawn to the town. They met in 2001 when Steve was working for a large building materials supplier and fell in love over a conversation about insulation materials. This must have kept the warmth in as they married a year later.

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They started off their business doing markets, selling Steve’s homemade preserves, bread and cakes, then they added ceramics and kitchenware. Steve loves Spanish ceramics (each village has its own style) and olive wood. They were thinking to do more markets, but Jan’s sewing business was taking off and they realised it was cheaper to take on a shop. Facetious as usual, I asked them why they weren’t selling crystals, unlike most of the shops in town. They explained they ‘aren’t really new agers’ but are more interested in the ‘pretty and the practical’.

The clothes they stock are made locally by Jan, Vivienne and Marie, others are ‘pre-loved’, fair trade Indian and Italian and French fashion. They cater for everyone, but the layered style of the Italian designs are flattering for the ‘larger lady’. They also sell moccasin slippers that are made in Glastonbury, men’s clothes and will soon have a range for children.

The Glastonbury Cancer Research Shop 2019 Calendar

Steve appears naked, but for a carefully placed jug, in the Glastonbury Cancer Research shop’s 2019 charity calendar. Jan volunteered Steve, and the shop, to appear, then presented it to him as a fait accompli. The photo shoot was at 7.30am on a Sunday morning, it amused Steve that passing locals “didn’t bat an eyelid” at the 15 naked men and a Stormtrooper gathered in front of the Cancer Research charity shop.

They are selling the calendars for £5 from the shop (or from one of the other outlets featured in the calendar), or you can phone 07936 529044, pay by PayPal (there will be a P&P charge) and they’ll send you one mail order

Why Glastonbury?

Steve and Jan love being part of a town with a High Street full of independent retailers, “Most small towns are bland and soulless in comparison”. They also feel that Glastonbury’s locals and visitors are refreshingly aspirational – “everyone is looking for the solution to their problems, their ‘pot of gold’”. They are proud to live somewhere where over 70 different belief systems are practised, that has visitors from every corner of the world. Jan speaks German, French, Italian and Russian and is studying Spanish, she enjoys chatting with customers in their own language. Not to be outdone, Steve points out he is fluent in Brummie and doesn’t need subtitles for Peaky Blinders.

They are both interested in the spiritual and the unexplained. Steve feels energy and Jan did a course in Parapsychology with Serena Roney-Dougal. Jan is drawn to Dion Fortune, Steve is more drawn to football, cider and Led Zeppelin. With so much to do running the business seven days a week, they don’t get a lot of time to develop their interests.

The Glastonbury Community

Steve has been on the Assembly Rooms Committee for 3 years and is now Treasurer, bringing his business acumen to the aid of this important community building. He tells me they are looking to re-launch in 2020, bringing a more diverse programme of entertainment, including theatre productions and classical music to the town.

I spot a tin for the Glastonbury Community Christmas Lunch on the counter, Steve has recently become involved, last year over 240 people who would have otherwise not had a ‘Christmas Experience’ got together in the Town Hall. Steve is also keen to become actively involved in helping the homeless in the town. We chat about the recent outrage over anti-social behaviour in Glastonbury during Summer and the consequent bad publicity. Steve is forthright on the issue “The BBC presented Glastonbury as an urban wasteland – which is completely and utterly false. I hate the way people are demonized, they may live chaotic lifestyles and be a nuisance, but they are human beings

Jan has volunteered with the Credit Union and the RSPCA but now finds herself too busy with the shops. she’s even had to close the sewing business in order to search for quirky stuff to sell. Like other Glastonbury businesses, they are keen to minimise their environmental impact. I notice there is little plastic packaging in the shop, Steve and Jan tell me they recycle everything they can. The three pairs of knickers I buy (which cost me the grand sum of £4.50 and, I can happily report, are very comfortable) are popped into a paper bag.

Glastonbury resident Nikki pops into the shop:

“Oh My God! You’ve got knickers! Have you anything sensible for children? I nearly left Glastonbury when my 6-year-old refused to wear elf outfits anymore.”

It’s clear that Steve and Jan’s business and their passion for the community are intertwined, “A business is about touching as many people as you can, it doesn’t matter if they are spending £1 or £50. We are serving local people what they want, not just chasing the tourist buck. Our local customers are important to us, we need to be trading successfully in January, not just in Summer”. There’s something reassuringly old-fashioned about Steve and Jan’s attitude toward business, customer service and community.

Before I leave Steve tells me:

“I’ve been normalized to Glastonbury. It happened by degrees. I don’t even notice bizarrely dressed people in the High Street anymore, but I notice people noticing”.

This post was kindly commissioned by Steve and Jan. Would you like to commission me to write an article about what you do, for Normal For Glastonbury? You’d be reaching thousands of readers who love the Town. Please click here for more information. Text and photographs copyright Vicki Steward.

If you’ve enjoyed reading this blog please subscribe by email, ‘like’ the Normal for Glastonbury facebook page and contribute your own stories and comments, and share my blog and facebook posts (this is really important – it’s how I reach more readers!). See my ’Hire Me’ page if you’d like to pay me to help you with your own projects, you can also check out how to support this blog,

Glastonbury’s Smallest Department Store Even Glastonbury can seem dull and grey on a cold November morning when the Winter light bleaches all the colour from the Town.

#Clothes #Commissioned Post #Community #Glastonbury #Glastonbury Town #Shopping #Somerset #Tourism

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zippdementia · 6 years

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Part 56 Alignment May Vary: Interlude and Side Quest Suggestions

There is an uneasy feeling as the players stand next to the Ghost Lord in the Lion’s Maw. Where do we go from here? Tyrion, as usual, is the first to break the ice, and he does so bluntly:

“So, you gonna help us kick some ass on the horde now?”

The Ghost Lord laughs and tells the players that, no, he has no intention of joining their fight long term. “Guys like Nazragul, Acererak, they always want to take over the world,” he says. “And where does that get them? A lot of hassle and constant visits from adventurers and would-be do-gooders. Acererak can’t even stay on this plane of existence he has so many enemies. And Nazragul? He’s in a hole. I set my sights on simpler things. My experiments. Maybe being left alone isn’t a grand goal, but I’ll tell you, long after everyone else has died chasing their damned grand goals, I’ll still be here, laughing as I watch the world turn.”

The Ghost Lord does agree to help Nazragul reshape his soul jar into something more sensible than the giant mass of muscle and tissue and undead organs that is currently growing out of Lady Dagger’s tortured body in the Maaken Temple.

“He never was much of a craftsmen,” The Ghost Lord grouses.

So the party travels with the Ghost Lord back across the Thornwaste. With the Ghost Lord at their side the journey is quick. The land itself opens up before his passage, the myriad thorns and other hazards retreating at his approach. He truly is the master of this land.

At the edge of the Thornwaste the players come across a character they have not met since the early days of the campaign: Joachim, the elderly and mysterious Yellow Robed Elf. While the Ghost Lord and Trellara hang back, so as not to terrify the travelers, the three more normal companions (nevermind Tyrion’s blue skin) join Joachim and his troop of bodyguards at his fire and have a strange conversation with him. Joachim speaks directly to Aldric (when the knight takes a break from flirting with the female mercenary, who brushes him off by saying she’s been married for 367 years) who asks if the elf knows anything about the creature that attacked Adlric’s troop and whom he had tracked into the Thornwaste.

Joachim does, in fact, know about it. It is a Behir, he tells Aldric, a creature that usually detests dragons yet for some reason is claiming to be the mother of the Dragonlord leading the Red Hand. This particular Behir is ancient, having plagued the Elsir Vale for a millenia. Whether Aldric will be the one to bring her down has not yet been seen in the stars.

Joachim also speaks to Nysyries, telling her that soon she will have to make a choice. She will know the moment when she is there and it will represent a cross roads in her life. What happens from that point forward will be up to her. They are cryptic words, and Nazragul shifts inside of her as they are spoken.

Finally, Joachim tells them that they are on the very edge of greatness, that there are three weapons very nearby that can be used to help them secure victory over the hoard. They used to reside in old Rhest and contributed to the land’s downfall in civil strife. He tells them that these weapons now reside with the dwarves in the southern mountains and that these weapons will be instrumental in fighting and defeating the Red Hand. With a flourish, he spreads a special powder into the fire and the flames rear up black and ominous as he looks at Aldric and speaks of the first weapon.

As Joachim speaks, the three grow more and more tired and suddenly realize that Joachim has placed a sleeping powder in the fire. The three pass out then awaken in the morning to find the others gone... except for one male mercenary left tied up like a hog for slaughter--a gift from Joachim to Nysyries, a gift that casts his alignment and goals in an even deeper mystery.

Setting the Side Quest: White Plume Mountain

The three weapons that Joachim tells them of are from White Plume Mountain.

One consistent problem with the original Red Hand of Doom module is its transitions between chapters. The best D&D adventures have either plot hooks that pull its character inexorably towards the next big thing after each chapter or have a hub city or NPC where more quests can be given. Red Hand has the problem of its hub city getting destroyed in the first chapter and, for the most part, of lacking compelling hooks. This problem is tied into the fact that every major adventure in the campaign is essentially a big side quest. Going to Rhest and going to the Ghost Lord’s lair does have an effect on the final battle and does bring players in direct conflict with their foe, the Red Hand, but it also leads to a dead end each time, always returning players to the “let’s get to Brindol” plot line afterwards. Because players know about Brindol from the start and don’t find out about this plan gradually, the plot can get a little stale as the main goal never changes.

I didn’t notice some of these problems until recently. The campaign gets touted so often as one of the best that I went in with some blinders on. Also, it is constantly complained about for being too easy, a complaint that I took to heart in my redesign but one which I’m not sure I actually agree with any more. Or rather, I do think as built it is an easy campaign, but I also think that is part of what makes it work. I think this campaign is supposed to make the players feel like they are stomping through the horde at each turn, bringing down dragons and lieutenants of the horde. You can tell this was the intent because at each step of the way, players are punished for not doing this! If they aren’t aggressive enough, the horde marshals its full strength at the Battle of Brindol and is much harder to defeat. If you take these victories away from the players or make them too challenging, then what you end up with is a campaign where the players are doing things to systemically make the horde weaker, but they are not doing anything to make themselves feel stronger.

Some of the problems I mentioned with the campaign I’ve addressed. Nazragul’s Maakengorge became my stand-in hub to keep the story moving. And I’ve pretty much eschewed the in-book timer to countdown to the horde’s arrival at Brindol. It’s a cool idea, but there just isn’t enough exciting things to do in all the time the module gives you to make this work. Chasing the horde across the land discourages players from going to Rhest and the Thornwaste and isn’t very much fun besides, mostly a series of random encounters with the horde. So get rid of that time system and just go with “the horde travels at plot speed.”

The one problem I didn’t address, and in fact probably contributed to creating, was the feeling of player weakness. Red Hand doesn’t need to be harder. At least pieces of it don’t. The Ghost Lord should be near impossible to fight. And taking on the whole horde at once should be a death sentence. Doing stupid things in Rhest and bringing the whole place down on you should be a bad idea. But the rank and file should feel easy and the lieutenants and dragons should be defeatable. It’s not individual encounters like this that are impressive about the horde: it’s their sheer size. Let the players feel like they are way above these fights but anytime they get close to the main army, its sheer size should turn them away. That’s when you shouldn’t be afraid to throw six chimera and two dozen hobgoblins at them (buff their health and proficiencies here if you need to to make them a bigger threat).

In any case, it’s not like my campaign has been a failure because of this. The players respect the horde and they’ve become good villains for them, too. They are really eager to defeat them at Brindol and I’m very much looking forward to that clash. We’ve also got to have some very tactical battles because of the challenge and some incredible close calls, like Nysyries blowing up the bridge. But because of the difficulty I made the campaign overall, it’s time to give the players something back, to make them feel like more than pawns on this chess board. They should at least be rooks *wink*

To that end, one final side quest before Brindol is in order. And the dwarves make a great catalyst for it. Honestly, I was surprised when the original module didn’t offer up the Dwarves in the Wyvernwatch mountains as a side quest post-Thornwaste. I literally thought I was missing a piece of the book. The mountains are right next to the Thornwaste and the Dwarves have already been given a plot hook back in the Witchwood where the payment for their services as mercenaries to Brindol had been waylaid. I thought that plot hook would be followed up by a short Dwarven adventure later on, maybe something that involved delving deep into the mountain to kill a Dragon and seize its treasure or recover some material to help the dwaves forge a mighty weapon to fight the Horde.

What I’m basically saying is that you should add a dwarven adventure into your own campaign at this point in the campaign. It’s too good of an opportunity to flesh out the world and as a story beat it creates a wonderful mirror of the “ally gathering” that happened in Rhest. That was an elvish adventure, now they get a dwarven adventure. If the players manage to recruit both races to the cause than it feels like a true alliance of good vs. evil, where all races have put aside their differences to face the Red Horde. It really builds up that final confrontation well!

As far as actual adventures go, make up your own if you’d like, or select something appropriate from the plethora of choices in DnD’s back catalog or from third-party creators on DMs Guild. Some suggestions include:

Anything from a suitable adventure’s league. These adventures are always easy to fit into any campaign. Just find one of the appropriate level that interests you and *bam* you have a two to three hour session ready to go. You can easily change major NPCs to dwarves and the location to match the Wyvernatch.

Glitterdoom, from Goodman Games. It’s a nice little Dwarven mine adventure. You’ll probably have to change out some of the encounters to make it level appropriate, though: it’s too easy at level 3.

Forge of Fury, from Tales of the Yawning Portal, especially if your party is a little bit less leveled than mine. You might still have to bump up some encounters to match the challenge you want, but this is a perfectly themed adventure.

A side quest from Rise of Tiamet. That book is basically made up of side adventures, just grab one that feels good and change the setting and NPCs to dwarves. It’s already dragon-themed and is basically the redux of Red Hand of Doom already. They should already be pretty much level appropriate.

For myself, I chose White Plume Mountain from Tales of the Yawning Portal. I think it is the perfect side quest for this campaign and we will get into why, and some of the changes I’ve made to it, next time.

Other suggestions are welcome, for good side adventures! Just post a reply. I’m always looking for good side adventures.

#dnd #dungeons and dragons #5e #White Plume #Red Hand of Doom

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afoolsingenuity · 7 years

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Bite Sized Books // Three Romances I’ve Enjoyed Lately

It’s been a while since I wrote up a collection of reviews and I’ve read a handful of romances lately that I want to talk about. apart from a bit of romance they really have nothing in common but that’s ok. I mean, who doesn’t love a good romance? One was a brilliant historical romance which I sort of wasn’t in the mood for it. One was a sports romance which kept making me think of X-Men. And one was a contemporary romance I went in wary and came out loving.

Silk is for Seduction (the Dressmakers #1) – Loretta Chase

Published: 17th January 2014 Source: Library Genre: Historical Romance My Rating:

From the Design Book of Marcelline Noirot: The allure of the perfect gown should be twofold: ladies would die to wear it . . .and gentlemen would kill to remove it!

Brilliant and ambitious dressmaker Marcelline Noirot is London's rising star. And who better to benefit from her talent than the worst-dressed lady in the ton, the Duke of Clevedon's intended bride? Winning the future duchess's patronage means prestige and fortune for Marcelline and her sisters. To get to the lady, though, Marcelline must win over Clevedon, whose standards are as high as his morals are . . . not.

The prize seems well worth the risk—but this time Marcelline's met her match. Clevedon can design a seduction as irresistible as her dresses; and what begins as a flicker of desire between two of the most passionately stubborn charmers in London soon ignites into a delicious inferno . . .and a blazing scandal.

And now both their futures hang by an exquisite thread of silk . . .

This book wasn't what I fancied reading when I started it. I had just finished another book which overwhelmed me with its stunning writing and I was lost but I fancied romance, I just don't think it was a romance of the historical variety I fancied. The writing in this book and the spark between Clevedon and Marcelline was amazing. And once they had returned to England and still Clevedon found himself drawn to Marcelline, that was the point I became truly invested. Especially as glimpses of his past came up and the way he was with Lucie, Marcelline's daughter, well my heart just melted.

This was a little different to the other historical romance I've read so far (I am still not well read in this genre) as Marcelline is a working woman. She was a dressmaker and so she gained access to the elite in society as she clothed them but was never a part of their world either. She is the greatest modiste in the world and she has excellent taste. She has not yet been recognised by many in society for her skill (people don't like trying new things) but her quest to woo the Duke of Clevedon, to entice him to bring his future Duchess to shop with her is her first step on being recognised by all. The only problem is she is more interested in Clevedon that she should be and he has fallen in lust with her.

The sparks flying between the two were amazing and as they spent more time together I found my interest picking up in the book. They were obviously meant to be but you could tell there was more to both than they were letting on. The twists and turns of their relationship were great but as I said, it was Clevedon with Lucie which did it for me, he was adorable and she was amazing. She deserves her own book she had me in stitches.

I wasn't totally swept away in the romance. I was not in the right mood for this but it was so very enjoyable and I'm glad I picked up a copy.

Irresistible You (Chicago Rebels #1) – Kate Meader

Published: 14th August 2017

Source: Bought

Genre: Contemporary, Romance, Sports Romance

My Rating:

Hot in Chicago series author Kate Meader returns with her all new, scorching Chicago Rebels hockey series, featuring her signature “steamy sex scenes, colorful characters, and riveting dialogue” (Romantic Times). Three estranged sisters inherit their late father’s failing hockey franchise and are forced to confront a man’s world, their family’s demons, and the battle-hardened ice warriors skating into their hearts. Harper Chase has just become the most powerful woman in the NHL after the death of her father Clifford Chase, maverick owner of the Chicago Rebels. But the team is a hot mess—underfunded, overweight, and close to tapping out of the league. Hell-bent on turning the luckless franchise around, Harper won’t let anything stand in her way. Not her gender, not her sisters, and especially not a veteran player with an attitude problem and a smoldering gaze designed to melt her ice-compacted defenses. Veteran center Remy “Jinx” DuPre is on the downside of a career that’s seen him win big sponsorships, fans’ hearts, and more than a few notches on his stick. Only one goal has eluded him: the Stanley Cup. Sure, he’s been labeled as the unluckiest guy in the league, but with his recent streak of good play, he knows this is his year. So why the hell is he being shunted off to a failing hockey franchise run by a ball-buster in heels? And is she seriously expecting him to lead her band of misfit losers to a coveted spot in the playoffs? He’d have a better chance of leading Harper on a merry skate to his bed…

First of all, Remy DuPre? He gave me full on Remy Lebeau vibes you don't even know. All I could think was X men and I felt bad about that as it did take me out of the story at first. Come on, he's name is Remy and he's a Cajun from New Orleans, who could blame me? About 20% in I was pretty solidly invested, though.

I wasn't Harper's biggest fan when I began reading. It wasn't that she was a driven woman who was focused on a single path, it was the fact she was focused and had blinders on. She was so closed off she was unwilling to rely on anyone else. Meader did an excellent job of explaining the independent streak Meader had going and Harper did grow on me but I still wanted her to reach her final realisations for sooner. It was a good kind of frustration, at least. And I had huge respect for what she did when she had been continually beaten down by a father who did not respect her brilliance and accept his own flaws.

As for Remy, everyone loves a passionate man, especially when he is a sexy hockey player who respects women and isn't afraid to talk about his feelings. And he's a musician as well? Don't mind me, I'm just swooning here.

The chemistry between Harper and Remy? Well, hot damn this book is on fire in that department. I loved them together, they were so good together and you could see sparks before they even had a proper conversation. I loved seeing them getting together and they were brilliant.

I also loved the family feels with the sisters together. I have high hopes for more family time with Harper, Violet and Isobel. Those girls will be hilarious together, I can see it now. Also, the DuPre family feels were good, too. Got to love a big family and Remy was so adorable with his nieces.

East In Paradise (Journey to the Heart #2) – Tif Marcelo

Published: 4th September 2017 Source: Netgalley Genre: Contemporary, Romance My Rating:

When an entrepreneur and an Army reservist end up in their own reality show fauxmance, they have to decide whether their love exists just for the cameras...or if it’s for real in this warmhearted romance, perfect for foodies and wine lovers!

Bryn Aquino, the former manager of a Filipino restaurant, knows the value of hard work. With a shiny new MBA in tow and an investor, she’s ready to start her own business: a culinary retreat where visitors can relax, cook, and enjoy life’s simple pleasures. Dubbed Paraiso Retreats, she leases the childhood home of army reservist Mitchell Dunford—who returned from Afghanistan to revive his family’s vineyard—but finds herself in a bind when her investor pulls out of the business.

When the retreat catches an internet live stream producer’s eye through social media channels, Bryn is offered the opportunity of a lifetime—to document her journey in exchange for a hefty paycheck. Excited, Bryn happily agrees to the arrangement...only to find out that she’s going to have to fake an onscreen romance with her indifferent landlord in order to keep her audience interested.

As Mitchell and Bryn put on a show for the cameras, they find their romance isn’t hard to fake. They’ve got more in common under their bluster, banter, and doubts. As their relationship heats up and the cameras keep rolling, the line between show and reality blurs. And when the pressures of family, business, and the audience stack against them, will their romance survive internet stardom? Or was it just for show?

I had my doubts with this one. I'd seen Nick saying she wasn't Bryn's biggest fan because she was mean so I went in with a couple of reservations. At first, I agreed, Bryn was mean and quick to judge when she didn't know everything. She wasn't willing to let folks close to her and needed control. And then Mitch looked like he was going to grow closer to Bryn with this livestream and not mention his ulterior motives and when he cared for her. I should've known there was no need to be worried. Did North To You teach me nothing? Marcelo knows what she's doing.

Mitch and Bryn were very different and they didn't get off to the best start. He did spill his coffee all down her and then he ended up being her landlord. There were sparks from the start, though. No one is that bothered by someone and doesn't have an interest in them.

Mitch was the easier character to like. He was a war veteran and suffering from insomnia and PTSD. He had things mostly under control and he was working to make his family's vineyard a success once more. He was a genuinely nice guy and he was so easy to fall in love. Bryn was not. She was harsh in North To You but in this, her determined personality shone through. She was focused and independent and that did make me like her but, like Mitch, I had to get past those walls she built to see what she was really like. Once she released a bit and got to know Mitch that was one I really started to like her.

There were several ups and downs in this book. I really enjoyed it, though. I also loved that it was a fake relationship book, except that it wasn't a fake relationship. They were taking a fake relationship and that was a good twist on a common (and far-fetched) trope.

And there you have it, three romances which I enjoyed (even if I wasn’t in the mood for one). Have you read any of these, what did you think? And what’s the best romance you’ve read lately?

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#a fool's ingenuity #books

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maczazind · 7 years

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FILM DIARY 2017: April AKA"The Month with Dwayne Johnson & True Stories"

The summer blockbuster season has officially arrived as April showers make way for May flowers. But in that showery month came a handful of interesting films as well. April surprisingly found myself not only accidentally focusing on stories that were based on real life events but also features starring Dwayne Johnson. I hadn’t planned on the two stacking up but was surprised as the month came to a close how many the two categories had rang true. So before we make it into the tentpole films of the Summer, let’s focus on the last hurrah of the Spring as the following were my movie reactions for April.

As always, the following reflects MY OWN OPINION. If you’d like to see these entries in full as the year progresses, each installment is given the tag “Film Diary 2017” so feel free to follow along!

Each entry includes how every feature was primarily seen and an asterisk which denotes that viewing was the first time I’ve seen that movie in its entirety, despite possibly having seen pieces of the film previously or having a general knowledge of it. Numbering reflects the year’s overall total, not the monthly total.

April 1st: 43) Valkyrie* - DVD (Rental - Library); Originally released in the winter of 2008, I may have just missed an eventual screening of this in one of my high school history classes (where I saw a wave of films that went from the relevant to the random including Catch Me If You Can and Slumdog Millionaire). And while it doesn’t quite buck your expectations as much as the final act of Inglourious Basterds did with its climax, Tom Cruise still leads a fascinating story regardless about a major attempt within Germany itself to turn a military tactic on its head in an attempt to end WWII. Director Bryan Singer covers the material with a visually impressive turn here, in addition to supplying plenty of tense moments throughout. Regardless of how likely you know the ending, it’s the plan and events unfolding that capture your attention while granting a different perspective inside the country in a time of a chaos. It may not have stood out as Cruise’s biggest film in the last decade, but it’s certainly a pleasant surprise if the subject interests you.

April 2nd: 44) Soul Men* - TV (DVR - BET); One of Bernie Mac’s final films, this musically driven comedy was a fun time that I didn’t take too seriously. It was a fine cable watch in the middle of a weekend as the movie focuses on two washed up soul artists who take a cross country road trip to attend a tribute for their group leader who had spun off into a successful solo career. Massive amount of cliches aside, what helps add to the fun is the chemistry between Mac and Samuel L. Jackson. It seems like they’re enjoying themselves throughout and it gets infectious alongside a great soundtrack. Not a contender for a new favorite; yet I’ve seen plenty worse on television.

April 4th: 45) 5 to 7* - Streaming (Netflix); I tend to be a sucker for a few quieter, independent romantic dramedies since my younger days of renting random films from the video store down my street. And 5 to 7 fits that exact mold, blending an offbeat perspective it wears proudly on its sleeve with a cast that really elevates the material in play. It’s a very eccentric mix exploring the world of an open marriage, and yet Anton Yelchin’s charming Brian manages to serve his role well as the viewer’s perspective. It’s not perfect but still mesmerizing and emotional as the character driven romance is tackled in various interesting ways with differing ideals. And God, how I wish there was more of Olivia Thirlby’s Jane in this film. She manages to steal the spotlight in every scene she’s in; finding fantastic chemistry with Yelchin and truly making me crave more of a focus on their star-crossed, budding friendship. It’s certainly not a film for everyone; it’s one you’ll either accept as it lays out its central theme early on or you won’t. Though if you do, you may manage to embrace a handful of the alluring and enamoring traits it has to offer.

April 5th: 46) Rogue One: A Star Wars Story* - Blu-Ray; Despite being a sizeable Star Wars fan, I never saw Rogue One during its release due to family problems arising around that time. So while many kept their blinders on until the release, I attempted to maintain that bubble for an additional three months. Some things clearly got through thanks to social media response, such as the widely beloved Vader scene. Others seemed obvious given existing canon and dialogue. The bottom line is I didn’t love Rogue One as much as The Force Awakens. At the same time, this is new territory; I really wasn’t sure how I would react to the first non-Skywalker Saga film despite being versed in books that do just that. I’ve accepted that this was also somewhat of a testing of the waters to see if audiences would respond to one-off cinematic adventures in this galaxy for potentially larger tales. Regardless, Rogue One is still an interesting focus on the Rebel Alliance beyond the Skywalker clan while it presents a grittier atmosphere that is certainly impressive. The story leads to very expected ending, but not before delivering quite a few memorable characters and dynamics. It fleshes out what we know with little additions that not only intrigues (Vader’s presence and location in between the prequel & original trilogies for instance) but solves some details from A New Hope as well. The biggest praise I can give is that director Gareth Edwards delivers perhaps the most visually stunning Star Wars film, between big beautiful shots, scenes that at times evoke the exactlook of the original classics, and a CGI Tarkin that to be quite honest I did not mind as much as others did. It’s a good, strong film that while it may not reach certain heights personally, may grow on me even more among repeat viewings.

April 8th: 47) Kubo and The Two Strings* - Streaming (Netflix); Laika has managed to rise impressively over the past nine years as its four feature films have presented intriguing stories that certainly gain popular word of mouth. Coraline impressed in a creepy supernatural tale with heart, while similarly Paranorman took a genre adventure tale and flipped it on its head with a very heartbreaking climax. Likewise, Kubo takes elements Laika has presented before and utilizes it in a new way. An adventure with fantastical elements here, but blending in dealings of grief, some great comedy, a feudal Japan backdrop and the legends that come with it. And such as Laika’s peaks, that emotional thread works wonders throughout the film. Perhaps not as far reaching to all demographics as the aforementioned movies, Kubo still showcases exceptional visual imagery and isn’t afraid to tackle some more complex pieces while fully embracing the more magical sides of the story it’s trying to deliver. If you can also accept those more farfetched archetypes as honorable to the landscape it’s tackling, then this may be up your alley.

48) Schindler’s List* - Streaming (Netflix); An award winner with an important legacy, I’d never seen this movie before for a small number of reasons. Among them, the 3 hour & 15 minute runtime always seemed overwhelming and the subject material in this format is something you have to be personally prepared for. Man what a powerful film. Unflinchingly brutal yet accurate to life, heartbreaking, and an extremely notable story to discover in the midst of absolute horror. Liam Neeson, Ben Kingsley and Ralph Fiennes give exceptional performances; to see Neeson’s Schindler break down in the “I could’ve saved more” scene evoked my own tears. And despite the length of the film, it never feels too long; between the shocking imagery and the tension that develops, your attention is demanded through it all. The genre of WWII films have presented no shortage of stories to tell, and it’s clear to see why this one has stood strong for the last 25 years.

April 14th: 49) The Fate of The Furious* - Theater; A fan of the franchise since my preteen years, it’s no secret The Fast and The Furious has gone through a number of transitions in its run. The series first changed four films in, shifting from a focus on racing to include more over the top action while also centering on the characters & the “family” that are now a signature part of the continuing story. In the wake of the loss of Paul Walker and the departure of his character Brian, the franchise finds itself at another crossroads. For myself, the core dynamic that gave the series an interesting focus was the yin & yang that were Brian & Dom; both intelligent in cars but differing with backgrounds in law enforcement and living on the edge. It’s why the second and third films didn’t quite work as well as the original, but excited an audience upon reuniting for a fourth; serving as a solid foundation for more fun adventures to build off of. Now with Brian gone, my main concern was wondering if his absence ultimately affected that core. In Fate, it’s clear there’s no replacing him. But thanks to Mr. Nobody and his new protege, played by Scott Eastwood, there is a feeling of balance once more as our family gains some structure while venturing out into an entry that not only entertains but captivates on multiple levels. Yes, there is still some very farfetched action; yet the one-liners & characters make it enjoyable despite plausibility. The story behind Dom’s betrayal to those closest to him counterbalances that, presenting some surprising connections and shocking twists that rewards fans who have stuck with the series so far. Jason Statham is a scene stealer, especially in the third act; Charlize Theron delivers an intimidating villain through her actions despite the fact she’s less hands on than previous antagonists. Without giving any spoilers away, I’ll say that what transpires blends together impressively to not only honor at least the three films prior but combats hesitance of shifting gears with a thrilling blockbuster that easily put it in the top tier of Fast and Furious installments.

April 15th: 50) Quiz Show* - Streaming (Netflix); My third based-on-a-true story film this month took me out of WWII and into the 1950s with another Best Picture nominee from the mid-90s. Here director Robert Redford tackles the cheating scandal from the early days of television, a controversy I had no clue even existed. What is presented is a solid film that takes many aspects and decides to run with them for an intriguing package, tackling a moral center, event entertainment vs. transparency, and the growing notion as to whether or not the same thing could be happening today in an era where game shows have only expanded. Ralph Fiennes dazzles as the lead torn between right and wrong, while John Turturro does an exceptional job playing an obsessed former champion that serves as a foil you can’t quite root for despite being in a justified camp. Though it doesn’t make it into the top tier of biopics for me, it’s an intriguing focus if you’re an entertainment lover.

April 22nd: 51) The Finest Hours* - Streaming (Netflix); As the title of this feature suggests, I found it to be just fine but not great. This drama from last year recounts a risky Coast Guard rescue in the early 50s out of Chatham, Massachusetts in the middle of a terrible winter storm. And while the story is interesting to learn and the actual rescue itself is harrowing, the film has a handful of problems. The first act, about 40 minutes long, throws so many characters at you and they are primarily pessimistic towards our protagonists that it actually gets a bit annoying. And a good handful of the pessimism on one side comes from an elephant in the room that is vaguely described through expositional dialogue that just feels out of place. An opening five minute scene depicting the event or even the fallout could’ve helped solve at least some of these scenes that simply come off sluggish. Additionally, characters and performances come up short because we jump around to SO many of them. Chris Pine and Casey Affleck lead their respective storylines well; Holliday Grainger is an absolute scene stealer and makes the central relationship believable. Ben Foster finds his groove later on, but disappointed me in the first half because of how good of a role I know he can deliver (if you haven’t seen it, he’s EXCEPTIONAL in The Program). The more interesting aspects of the film are Affleck’s story as we see how a ragtag crew manages to stay afloat in half of a sinking tanker as they await for rescue to hopefully come. Once rescue ventures out, the movie gains some real gravity; it’s just the very hesitant start and the crowded screen time that fails to get the motor going off the bat, rippling through the movie.

April 25th: 52) Moana* - TV (Rental - On Demand); I was worried how I would like this one given the hype built up from social media and award nominations. But as it turns out, it lives up that hype. Moana does an impressive thing by focusing on three key relationships that drive the emotional undercurrent: the title character & herself (torn between family and passion); the title character & her grandmother (doubting your passion, having someone support you and losing a loved one); and the title character and Maui (a comedic chemistry that also showcases independent strength, resilience and determination). All of these blend to deliver a powerful heart against a solid adventure tale that takes advantage of legend and fantasy, much in the way that Kubo had with its atmosphere. The villains are a bit weak, serving mostly as simple hurdles instead of the memorable antagonists from the Renaissance era. But there’s just something Moana does so well among establishing lore and relatable bonds in the first act that elevates the rest of the film. It’s even clear to see why “How Far I’ll Go” is the breakout song, as it perfectly captures and reflects everything being presented in the first half hour. Moana is a movie that wears its heart on its sleeve and is all the better for it, while the comedy and odyssey that follow cement it among the recent string of animated Disney films crafting their own legacies.

April 26th: 53) Central Intelligence* - DVD (Rental - Library); My second movie starring Dwayne Johnson in as many days, let’s say I didn’t love this one as much. It’s enjoyable, sure, but a little too goofy with a handful of problems. Kevin Hart and Johnson play off each other fantastically and are a lot of fun as a duo, but the character dynamics threw me a bit too much. Here, Hart is more or less the witty, taken aback foundation while Johnson is the wackier one as a repressed former high school loser who can’t quite let go of his past. And it’s there that the absurdity kind of grows more and more even if it tries to stay grounded in some respects. It requires plenty of disbelief and my expectations ultimately just were not there. Furthermore, the central story presents evidence to potentially distrust Johnson’s character well until the third act, and he’s such a wild card throughout that I actually bought the notion. The surprise cameos add an additional treat, but I’m also kinda happy I simply rented this one instead of outright buying it.

April 29th: 54) The Lincoln Lawyer* - Blu-Ray; My final film of the month is a legal thriller adaptation that squeaked in just before the “McConaissance” took shape. Matthew McConaughey leads a surprisingly star studded feature that spends the first hour setting up a premise, only to take an incredibly sharp turn halfway through and send the film in an entirely different direction. Though this twist allows for a complex spinning of plates that impressively all ties together in the end, it was a bit too jarring for me to roll with and I still felt a bit off center as the story continued to deliver turn after turn. Regardless, McConaughey and Ryan Phillippe give great performances; Marisa Tomei is just fine but has great chemistry with McConaughey; Michael Pena shines in the very small screen time he’s given; Bryan Cranston is under used with just a few scenes in a rather minor role. Ultimately it doesn’t hit as hard as past entries in its genre despite the impressive talent roster it builds and a break from cliche that should be refreshing. Then again, perhaps it was just my unprepared mindset to the narrative shift that left me with a sour note.

And that concludes part three of my year in movies! What blockbusters will I have seen after Memorial Day? See you in a month to find out!

What movies did you see in April 2017? Are there any movies you’d highly recommend that I should add to my watchlist? Feel free to drop me an ask or a reply!

#film diary 2017 #movies

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cilliansaccent · 4 years

Text

The Peaky Designer - Cillian Fanfic, Chapter 10

Hello, welcome back. Below is the next instalment of my fanfiction!

PLEASE READ:

I will not be including Cillian’s family as it’s kinda weird since he has children lmao. Just a mention of his parents and a previous lover.

I will indicate in a chapter if there is smut in the beginning and before the actual scene!!

I will add trigger warnings if there is any!!

There is a variety of levels of swearing during a chapter, I will not hold back, everyone swears.

The timestamp for the Fic is now 2016 and onwards!! e.

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Characters:

Swantje Paulina as Gabrijela Babic (swalina on Instagram)

Cillian Murphy

Word Count: 4,137

!!Warnings!!: Smut!! Graphic Smut!!! ;) Enjoy you naughty kiddies.

Date: December 2016

Chapter Name: Distract me, Cillian.

Brief Chapter Outline: Gabrijela talks to Cillian what happened to her at the Christmas party before they discuss her hobby as a band member before it ends with one hell of a steamy afternoon...

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When Gabrijela woke up, she felt sick and iffy. She coughed pushing herself up with an arm as she rubbed her eyes. She was alone in the bed, but the door was open and she could hear music coming from downstairs.

She got out of the bed and found some slippers set beside the bed. She slipped them on. She walked over to the window and pushed back the heavy drapes, it was raining lightly outside. She loved the rain, this was perfect weather to be in bed.

She smiled and turned and headed out of the room and down the stairs. The music was Christmas music, the classics that everyone would play. She peaked her head through the threshold to the living room and found Cillian sitting in the armchair before the fire, reading with his glasses on. There was a large flatscreen TV above the fire mantle. Near the bay window, there was a Christmas tree set up. No presents beneath it.

"Good morning." She said, her voice coming out rough. She cleared her throat.

Cillian looked up, "Oh morning." He said as he tucked in a bookmark and took off his glasses as he stood. "How did you sleep?"

"Really good. Cozy and warm. You?" She asked as she came over and sat down in the two-seater couch.

"Same as you. I haven't made breakfast yet as I don't know what you want today." He said as he sat back down.

"Well, I'm craving chicken soup. Mum would always make it for me when I was sick." She said.

"Hm, well I don't have it but I can run down to the store to buy some?" He offered.

"If you don't mind. I'll write down the ingredients." She said and he passed her his phone so she could jot down what she needed.

"That's it?" He looked at the list.

"Yeah. That's all. It's simple but super tasty." She smiled.

"Okay then, I'll be back soon." He said and touched her shoulder as he left.

She pulled the knitted throw around her and watched the fire, getting lost in her thoughts. She could hear the faint ringtone of her phone upstairs but didn't feel like getting it. But it kept ringing and she sighed as she got up to go check it.

Missed calls from Logan and Lucia and from her dad. "Fuck." She grumbled, she had to call her dad back. So she did and apologised to him that she didn't pick up last night and that she was tired and exhausted. But Lucia had told her dad about last night but in a twisted way. Gabrijela was drunk and had attacked Lucia when she was with some guy.

"So you would believe her rather than me?" She snapped at him. "How could you."

"I am getting your side of the story, Gabrijela." He said, his tone hard.

"Well, I didn't attack no one, Dad. She was being... she..." she choked on the words, "You know what she was doing with another man in a bathroom stall." She held back her tears that threatened to come.

"Gab..." His voice softened, "Did you love this man?"

Gabrijela thought about it, she had started to fall for Logan, "No." She shook her head, "But I was falling for him."

Her father had fallen silent but sighed, "Are you okay?"

"I'm dealing. I'll be fine." She shrugged, "Anyway, I gotta go." She said as she heard the door unlock and open. "Goodnight dad." She waved.

"Goodnight my blossom," He smiled and hung up.

She got up and headed down the stairs and went into the kitchen. It was entirely white with light brown beams that framed the window above the double basin sink. Countertops were made of white marble with pale grey cracks in it. It opened up to the dining room that leads out to a small deck and then flowed into the green garden.

The kitchen had a farm touch to it, "You have a really nice house, Cillian." She said.

"Thank you. I like the coziness of it. I'll take you upstairs after breakfast, you'll love it." He smiled as he set out the items. "So what should I do first?"

"I'll do it," She shakes her head, "You can admire me from afar." She came over and bumped her hip with his to nudge him out of the way.

"From afar? Why not close?" He cocked a brow perfectly.

"Close then, but I forbid you from helping." She pointed at him. "Where are the pots?"

He showed her and she got into it. The recipe was simple, but it wasn't going to be exactly like how her mum would make it. But it was better than nothing.

Soon enough they sat on the couch before the fire, bowls in their hands and they ate. A throw was covering their legs.

"This is so good. Better than what I made that first time." He said and tipped his head back to drink the soup.

"Nah, I think we are tied." She said doing the same before she set the bowl down on the table.

"You think so?" He looked at her, hooking his arm over the back of the couch, holding his head up with a hand.

"I do think so." She moved closer to him as she got comfy.

"Did you want to watch TV?" He asked as he watched her sigh and lay her head back.

"No. Not really." She shook her head, her expression changing.

He frowned a little before he took her hand, "I'm here for you, okay?"

She looked down at their held hands then met his blue eyes, tears lined her eyes, "I'm hurting, Cillian." She whispered as she moved into his arms, an arm over his stomach.

"Talk to me." His arms went around her, squeezing her gently.

"Last night... Logan threw a Christmas party and I brought along Lucia, my best friend cause she came to see me. You know the one you saw in that video chat all those months ago?"

"Yeah, I remember." He nodded. He had an idea of where this was going.

"So yeah, at the party, everything was going well but I had this weird feeling something wasn't right. And then I went to uh... I went to look for Logan and... In the bathroom... He... He was with Lucia... They-" She choked as tears began to fall again.

"Darling you don't need to say it. Hey, hey shhh." He wiped away her tears, cupping her cheek.

"They've been doing it behind my back for four months, Cillian." She sobbed, the emotions rushing through her, "I-I shouldn't have trusted him so fast. Fuck I made the wrong choice." She whispered burying her face in his neck.

His heart broke for her, it made him so upset to see her like this. How could anyone think to hurt someone as sweet and kind like her?

"Do not let this ruin you, Gabrijela." He murmured into her hair, "You don't deserve these tears. Not on this beautiful face." He pulled back to gaze into her eyes.

"The worst thing is the whole thing is so similar to how my ex ended up. God," she frowned and looked at the fire. "I shouldn't have trusted him. I thought he was better."

"Sometimes people can be cruel despite their pretty demeanour," Cillian muttered.

Gabrijela nodded and turned back to him, "But I know you are true and real." She sniffled as she touched his cheek. "You're a good man, Cillian. Truly."

He smiled, "And you are a wonderful woman, Gabrijela. I've never met someone so natural as you."

"Distract me today, Cillian." She whispered, a hand on his chest.

"I will try." He nodded, "Come, let me show you the third floor."

They got up and headed to the top.

She gasped, the whole floor was transformed into a mini library of some sort. The wall had shelves full of books, memorabilia of awards and all that. A fireplace took a spot between the bookshelves with some seriously comfy-looking couches.

"I've kept the majority of things from when I was younger, things from school or gifts and whatnot." He explained all the knick-knacks he had.

"Awesome." She was in absolute awe.

He had a guitar as well and a ukulele that hung on the wall. "You play the ukelele?" She asked as she came over and plucked it off the wall. She strung her fingers along it.

"Yeah. The main thing I bring when I go away." He watched how she became a whole new person. The pain in her eyes seemed to go away as she began to play a melody.

He was surprised, "You play?"

"I do. I know how to play the guitar and the cello, I'm an expert in both." She smiled.

"Why didn't you tell me this before? Just for fun or...?" He sat down as he listened to her play.

"Been in a band since I was sixteen. I play the electric guitar and also sing with Elijah who plays the bass guitar, Karsyn does the drums and Maya is on the keys and her partner plays the extra guitar. Lucia never really liked it but always tried to be apart of it... We had to kick her out cause she caused too many headaches for all of us." She said, finishing off her melody. "Elijah and I play the cello together, he's probably the next close friend of mine."

"What kind of genre you play?" Cillian asked.

She put the instrument back where she found it, "Anything really, we like to do covers and we have some of our own songs. We play every Thursday, Friday and Saturday night at this club in Sydney, Maya and her husband owns it and its very popular." She walked along the bookshelves, running her fingers along the many novels.

"Wow. And you kept this all from me!" He smiled, "I have to definitely come to Sydney and see you play."

She giggled and picked up a phot of when he was younger, "Not because you want to see me?"

"That too. I was twenty there." He got up and peered over her shoulder.

"Wow. Look at this young man. You haven't aged at all. Are you immortal?" She smirked up at him.

"Some say I'm aging like fine wine." He chuckled and she put the photo back.

"Oh, I can so agree on that." She patted his cheek.

"Can I ask you something?" He asked.

"Go ahead." She turned to him once more.

"Your birthday is coming up, do you have any plans on that day?"

She raised a brow, surprised he remembered it, "Uh, I mean I did but... with what happened... No. I'm free all day."

"Good. I've got something you will love to see." He grinned.

"Can I know?" She crossed her arms.

"Nope. It's a secret." He said.

She whined, "Ugh fine. What are you doing for the next day? It's Christmas."

"Flying back to Cork to spend three days with my family." He said.

"Oh... Really?" She had hoped she could spend the day with him. She couldn't hide her sadness in her tone.

"I got two tickets." He said, eyes trained on her.

"And?" She tilted her head to the side, confused as to why he told her that.

"You're coming with me." He laughed at the shock on her face.

"Cillian! I couldn't! No!" She hit him lightly.

"Yeah, you are coming with me. I want to show you my hometown. It's going to be fun." He took her arms gently, his smile soft.

She pouted, "You sure? I... Your family... wouldn't they think it's weird that you're bringing someone like me to their table...?"

"No. Of course not. They will love you. I only told them I'm bringing someone wonderful." His arms moved around her waist and she stepped closer, her hands on his biceps.

She giggled, "Oh Cillian," She smiled, only he could make her forget about her problems. She felt so at home in his arms, "I see that record player. Put something on and we can dance."

"Yeah? Alright." He pulled away and set the player up and picked out a good record. He placed it down and the needle before he pulled her back close.

They swayed together, body to body. Rain fell harder but everything seemed so magical. Her head was resting on his shoulder and she could feel the tickle of his breath on her neck.

"Cillian?" She murmured.

"Hm?" His hand was splayed on her back, between her shoulder blades.

"Please don't leave me." She said in a soft, shaky voice.

He pulled back to look at her, "I won't. Never."

"Promise me?" She sounded desperate as she gripped his biceps again.

"I promise," He cupped her face, "I'll always be with you."

She searched his face and leaned up to kiss him, but he pulled back, "Gabrijela, don't you think its to quick?" He asked, eyes wide.

"It's just a kiss. Cillian, please. Distract me." She whispered.

"Gab, we shouldn't, we really shouldn't. It's way too early, you're hurting." He frowned.

"Fuck it Cillian. Fuck it all. I need you. I need you. You are all I think about. All I need. Logan was a mistake. That time you touched me, that was what brought me to my knees. I cannot hold back Cillian." She had tears in her eyes.

He was shocked at her words, and yet he felt the same. The moment he touched her, kissed her, she was all in his head nonstop. "My Gabrijela. My lovely Gabrijela." He leaned in and kissed her, pouring his heart into it.

His hands moved from her face to her hips, her arms locking around his neck.

She was the one to deepen it, their tongues clashing and rolling over each other. A moan escaped her, and he began to walk her to the couch.

"No," she stopped him, "The bed." She said.

"Okay." He nodded and they headed down a flight, she held his hand as they entered the bedroom.

She backed up to the bed as he stalked forward, a heated look made him look like a bad boy. She smirked, "Since you touched me last time, it's only fair I return that favour."

He gripped her hips, pulling it flush against his. She moaned at the feeling, "You don't need to. My pleasure is seeing you cum by my fingers." He kissed her hard and she yanked off his shirt.

He took off hers and lifted her up and threw her on the bed, she let out a gasp as he moved on top of her like a cat. He kissed down to her neck, sucking on a spot and leaving a mark.

"Mmm." She shut her eyes as he moved lower, his lips wrapped around her nipple and she whined. Her nipples were always so sensitive when they were touched.

He sucked, tugging on them gently with his teeth which caused another moan to escape her. He then moved to the other, doing it rougher and it made Gabrijela cry out in pleasure.

"I'm going to taste you, Gab." He said roughly, his lips moving down her stomach. The feeling made a skittering feeling run through her, her core heating and throbbing.

"Yes." She sighed, nodding as her pants were thrown aside. She had no panties on.

Cillian came to the apex of her thighs and pulled back a little, her treasure was glistening and a pretty pink. She had waxed, leaving a tuft at the top. With a hand, he brought up he dragged a finger down from the hood to her entrance.

"Oh... God..." She sucked in a breath, looking down at what he was doing. Her cheeks were flushed, he was just... staring at her. "Am I okay? Cillian?"

He brought the finger up, then with his thumb, he parted her folds to reveal the petals of her core. "You are more than okay, Gabrijela. You are... serene." And he brought his mouth on her.

She threw back her head, eyes rolling in the back of her head as he worked on her with that fantastic mouth of his. He sucked on her clit, rolling the bud between his lips and teeth. He felt her hand on the back of his head, the other gripped the sheets.

"Oh fuck, Cillian. Fuck." She breathed fast, her toes curling as the sensations of getting head ran through her nerves. It was a wonderful feeling, the soft moist feeling of his lips peeling her apart and getting deeper. His tongue sweeping up then back down to her entrance where it prodded her.

"Relax, lovely. Relax for me." His hand were on her abdomen, feeling the fast-rising of her stomach. She relaxed as best as she could, and tried to stay relaxed as his tongue pushed into her.

He wiggled it around, tongue fucking her as he brought a thumb to her clit. He wanted her to feel the utmost pleasure he could give her with his mouth and hands.

So he ate her out like his personal feast, not being kind to her either. He held her squirming hips down as he was in full control of the situation, he would make sure all she remembered was his name as she came. He would imprint himself on her body, her soul. But when he was to take her... he would make sure it was a perfect day, all dedicated to her.

She was in utter ecstasy, all she could think of was him, of what he was doing to her. He knew where to get to, what to press as two fingers slipped into her.

He pulled back to watch how he fingered her, to see how she took him. "Fucking hell, Gabrijela." He rasped, she was drenching his fingers, his chin was coated in her wetness. "You going to cum soon?" He could feel how her walls clenched around him. He could only imagine how amazing if he was buried in her.

"Yes, Cillian. Oh god yes. Don't stop." She whined, her breathing ragged and deep. Moans and curses fell from her parted lips, she was close. "Harder, oh fuck!"

Cillian obliged and began to finger her harder, pushing in a third finger. God, she was tight. But he wasn't going to stop, he curled his fingers in a come hither motion and she cried out when he found her sweet spot once more.

"Cillian! Ah! I'm close! Fuck!" She bucked her hips, trying her best not to move too much around.

He went as hard as he could, he would bring her to the edge before he would finish her off with his tongue. And so he would, pulling his fingers out and tongue fucked her. Her cried grew louder as she thrust her hips up and hollered in bliss as she climaxed on his tongue and lips. She thrust a few times before she eased off as her high came down.

He lapped her up, sucking and licking her clean before he kissed up her body then to her lips. She moaned sweetly as she tasted herself on his lips.

"Mmm Cilly," She pulled back, touching his jaw and his lips. "Lay back baby, I want to touch you now." She kissed him.

"You don't-" He groaned when her hand gripped him.

"I do. You are so hard." She pushed him back and he eased on to his back as she now knelt beside him. "Cillian, oh goodness." She tugged on the strings of his sweatpants and eased them off with his help. Boxers and all.

Her eyes fell on his hard length, he was a good size and thickness. She could easily just ride him right there, lube was not needed as she was soaking.

Slowly she looked up, meeting his eyes, "Perfect." She murmured, not taking her eyes off as she wrapped her hand around. A muscle twitched in his cheek as his jaw was clenched hard. "Mmm, you feel good." She moaned as she rubbed him, holding him in a good tight grip.

"Ah... Ah, shit..." He whispered, holding himself up by his arms. "Gab..."

She smiled, happy that she was making him all huffy and blushing. She rubbed him faster, he was rock hard. "I'm gonna take you in my mouth," She moved between his legs, laying down on her stomach. She leaned in and licked his balls, sucking them and he let out a strange groan that was deep then a curse followed.

"Minx." He shook his head, watching her move up his shaft, sucking and kissing to the tip that had a little diamond drop.

She licked it before his cock was guided into her mouth, and he watched with pure amazement as she took him right to the base. "Fuck!" He placed a hand on the back of her head, gripping her hair.

She moaned, muffled by his cock before she began to bob her head. She took her time, savouring his velvet hardness with her tongue and lips, soft gagging sounds came from her every time he touched the back of her throat.

She was a goddess, she worked him so well, her sucking was slow and hard, almost pulling. It felt divine.

Gabrijela began to go faster, her hand moved to cup his balls once more and fondle them. She squeezed them and rolled them a little in her palm, he grunted, "That's it, oh fuck yeah. Gab you damn perfect woman."

She smiled a little as she continued to do her thing, and it wasn't long when he became fidgety as his cock twitched. He was going to cum very soon.

"Mmmm." She moaned around him, squeezing him again.

"I'm gonna cum. Fuck, in your mouth?" She nodded, "God you fucking- Fuck! Ah! Ah!" His brows furrowed and he laid back, his hips bucked and she gagged as he shot his load into her mouth.

She pulled back a little, he filled her mouth and he pulled her head back as the remaining went on her face and his stomach.

She gasped for air and laughed once she swallowed his load, "Cillian! Oh!" She bit her bottom lip as she pumped him once he was finished.

He looked at her, his release on her cheeks and lips, "Shit, sorry. He laughed as he handed her a tissue.

"No need." She wiped his cum off with a finger and cleaned them up with a smack of her lips. "Delicious." She giggled and leaned in, claiming his lips in a deep, passionate kiss.

He wrapped his arms around her as she laid on top of him, they kissed for a bit before she pulled back.

"Thank you," She murmured, her smile soft.

"What for?" He ran his fingers up her spine.

"For sticking with me and making me happy." She traced his jaw then his cheek and lips.

"I will do anything to make you smile again. It broke my heart to see you cry." He kissed her gently. "Don't cry ever again."

She scoffed lightly, "Don't break my heart then."

"I won't. Safe within my heart, tucked in warm." He kissed her nose as she laid her head down on his chest, her fingers running over the smooth skin of his biceps and shoulder.

"Safe." She whispered, her smile never fading.

"Safe." He repeated, his fingers gently running through her hair.

For the rest of the day, Cillian and Gabrijela spent their time indoors. They showered and shared another passionate kiss before they went to the living room downstairs to watch some classic Christmas movies. They ordered take away via UberEats and sat before the fire as they stuffed themselves with pizza and garlic bread and ice cream he had in the fridge.

They laughed from bad jokes and danced again, another movie before night fell. She was going to stay the night again, they got into bed and she had asked him to read her a favourite book of his to her.

He happily obliged, and read till she fell asleep. He set the book side and his glasses, turned off the light and pulled her into his chest. She slept peacefully, their legs tangled and he wasn't ever going to let her go.

Not this time he wasn't.

Whatever was blooming between them, it felt right. And he would work hard to keep her happy and content. He tried not to think about the whole age gap thing or that she was going to leave at the end of the month. He wouldn't.

He would cherish her, and see what the future would hold for them.

#cillian murphy #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #fanfiction

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cottonwren · 5 years

Text

A Well Dressed Woman | T.S. | Part Three

Summary: Don’t anger the gods - heed the warnings you’re presented with

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“Ms. Pine. I thought you were going to send someone to make the deal?” Tommy asked as she walked over to him, taking his cigarette out of his mouth and letting the smoke slip gently from his mouth. He had gotten no sleep, and it was the way his head was plagued by two people, none that he’d met before, that kept him awake and made him turn to the poppy seeds once again. Two adults, one woman and one man. The woman, he could identify as Jamie’s mother. Dark chestnut hair like hers, almost a replica, except this woman did not smile. She did not smirk. She glared and snared and Tommy had almost been scared. The woman told him to betray Jamie to further his own business, she told him it was right. The man, he was nothing like either of them. He had blonde hair and chestnut eyes, and he told him that he’d regret hurting the Pines.

It didn’t take a second more of thought to wonder who he was, but he blocked them both out. It was business, and he was sure that he would be at the business end of Polly’s shotgun if he didn’t go through with it. At least with this option, he had a chance of getting away clean and with more than enough snow to enterprise upon, with a ‘missing’ storage container on his hands.

“And let someone mess it up? Nah. Plus, Tommy, this could be the start of a good partnership” Jamie smiled, folding her arms around her chest and holding out her leather gloved hand “So, you’ve got the documents?” She had remembered to insist on documents for Linn, though she knew that they would be of no purpose.

“I have” Tommy nodded, passing her them from a worker “When does the protection clause end?” He asked, watching her slide the envelope into her coat pocket, looking him dead in the eye with the same eyes that had haunted him all night. God, his dreams were getting really out of hand.

“When you screw me over, Thomas. So hopefully, it won’t end” Jamie told him, a jovial smirk on her lips, the same that had taunted him many times before and he hoped would continue to in the future. “Unless you don’t heed my warning” She reminded him.

“You can trust me, thought you’d have gotten that by now” Tommy told her, leading her to the docks “Come on then, let me show you around. Unless you’re satisfied and ready to piss off and leave me?” He teased, beginning to walk across the dirty path with her, the dirt imprinting on the bottom of her oxfords.

“No, no, I think I can handle a few more minutes away” Jamie told him with a smile, forgetting to be snarky. For a second, Jamie was just happy to be with him, and as soon as she realised that, she put her walls back up. “Can’t have anything going past my nose, can I?”

“Of course not” Tommy shook his head, heart palpitating as he saw her smile - toothy and full of life, Tommy regretted the actions he was about to take before he took them. He had her sold, though, and it was imperative for the plan that she was completely sold.

Tommy gave her a tour of the docks and showed him her large shipment container, branded with Shelby and Pine. Jamie liked the way their names looked together, but made no comment. Tommy did too, and he had toiled over the order of the two names but wouldn’t tell her. No chance.

“If that’s all, Tommy, I shall be on my way.” She told him, standing only a few inches from him, the cold biting into her cheeks, making them pink. Tommy had a strange urge to take her face into his hands, holding her and pressing his lips to hers until the warmth had returned to her skin. Thank god he could resist his urges.

“I look forward to our partnership, Ms. Jamie Leanne Pine” Tommy nodded, shaking her hand. “Give all my best to your sister”

“I will.” She smiled, then turned and walked away from the docks, getting into her car and driving back to her office in Small Heath, doing her best not to speed back. An unfamiliar feeling was settling in her stomach, and if anything had happened to even slightly threaten Linn’s life, she would be driving into Small Heath with the fury of a thousand men to kill all of the Shelby brothers single handedly. What’s worse was, she wouldn’t lose an ounce of sleep over it.

She parked and got out, entering the offices through the back, happy to find Linn sitting at her desk, a smirk on her face as she removed her glasses.

“Did it go well?” Linn asked, setting her glasses on her desk and setting her papers aside for a second “Well?”

“It did. I have a dreadful feeling, Linn, that I’ve made a slip in my judgement. I don’t think he’s going to betray us.” Jamie admitted, closing the office door behind her and sitting down.

“Our man on the inside said he would, and he told us how. He overheard, Jamie, and you know that he wouldn’t dare slip up. Not with your reputation, and your pay. He won’t get a job like this ever again from anyone else. I know you don’t want him to, but he will betray us. We have done the right thing” Linn assured her, putting her glasses back on once Jamie handed over the envelope. “You’ve checked it, I assume?”

Jamie was silent - she’d forgotten to check the fucking papers. There could be pictures of Karl Marx in that envelope and she would have been none the wiser. Fuck.

“Right, you didn’t check it, but it’s obvious that he expected you to” Linn sounded relieved as she opened the envelope carefully and opened up the documents “They’re legit. Jamie, you need to be more careful - the next deal, he’s going to expect you to not read them”

“Which I won’t” Jamie considered “But I know what I’m looking for”

“You do - and, Jamie, you have me reading everything. Nothing goes past me - the council thinks we sell feminine products and medication, and has never been any the wiser. Present yourself as both of us, remember? Take the best bits and turn into Ms. Pine. Not Jamie, not my big sister, not the person who read me bedtime stories up until I was thirteen. Ms Pine, who has sold more drugs than anyone in the world and holds her customers under a razor blade with her brain. Ms Pine, who Tommy Shelby can wank to and lose to”

“Who are you and what have you - Linn Bonnie Pine, is that blood on your palm” Jamie screeched, taking her hand and examining it “It better be someone else’s”

“It is. A peaky blinder watched you leave the office, so I went through the back, as you usually do, and I wrapped myself up in my overcoat, and I asked him where I was. Like a lost little lamb, and he said the exact location. Which meant he wasn’t from around here, obviously. So, I knocked him out and hauled him into the alleyway. He’ll recover soon enough” Linn told her, giving her account of the affair, eyes alight with menace and excitement. Jamie wanted to run for cover. She herself had never enjoyed the dirty work, and she had hoped that Linn never would. A hitman only existed in dirty trades like theirs, but an accountant could go anywhere. If Linn had a taste for fighting, then it would only be so long until she began doing it for fun, and then word would get out, and then there goes her little girl’s future.

“I know you don’t want me fighting, so I’ll only do it when it’s necessary, I promise!” Linn giggled, filing the papers away in her drawer “So, what are you going to do about Tommy?”

“Well, I’m going to go to the races, as planned, to talk to that MP and make a deal, but also to sit near him and see what he does” Jamie told her “The peaky blinder that you decided to bludgeon will no doubt remember your face, meaning that it’d be dangerous to put you in the same place as fifty of them.”

“I’ll hit him again” Linn shrugged, setting her glasses on her head “He went down fairly quickly”

“That’s because you punch like a fourty year old brawler, love. You can’t punch bullets, and the idea of you even close to danger makes me feel sick” Jamie rolled her eyes, then continued “As I was saying - if Tommy hasn’t betrayed us, he will ask about the next shipment…. And, if he doesn’t say anything, he will have stayed silent.”

“Someone’s going to be tight lipped then. The deal with the MP, it’s just a regular trade, right?” Linn asked, pulling out the list “Fifty Grams of coke. Usual rate, plus a hundred to ensure confidentiality”

“Yes. Personally, I don’t know where he thinks that one hundred pounds is going to get him in bribery, but there we go” Jamie shook her head softly “I will be going in my three piece - no man will make deals with anyone wearing ruffles. Sexist and a shame, but there we go. Truth sucks”

Over in Small Heath, Tommy was exhilarated. The shipment container was being opened, standing proud in his warehouse. He stood back with Arthur, who had told Linda that he was doing paperwork. As Isaiah and Finn pulled back the door, they stepped back and let Tommy take over. Inside the container were crates upon crates, but what was more interesting was the note on top of the first crate they pulled out, marked out with a P and a little tree logo. Pine Pharma.

Slipping his nail under the wax seal, he opened it, passing the envelope to Isaiah and unfolding the parchment.

‘Hello there, Thomas’ read the neat handwriting. Ah, fuck. Tommy let out a loud sigh and then carried on reading.

‘I expected you to do this. I knew you wouldn’t heed my warning, and I have tried to memorise your pretty face, for when it gets ruined. For all of your brilliance, how have you not accounted for this? Enjoy the flour, sweetheart.

Lots of love,

J. L. P.’

Tommy threw the paper down onto the floor, running his hands through his hair “Fuck me” He groaned, pacing “Isaiah, get one of the fucking crates open” He barked, his world falling to shit.

His chest burned and he wondered how the hell she had managed to do it. She had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker, hadn’t she? Tommy could forsee most things, but this was something else. She was something else.

“Tommy, this ain’t snow” Isaiah told him with a wince, opening yet another crate of self raising flour “Unless you wanna make a cake, this is useless” He added, having dabbed a bit onto his tongue and been sufficiently disappointed. To be fair, he should have realised that it wasn’t cocaine from the looks of it, but he was still allowed to be hopeful, right?

“Fucking hell” Tommy groaned “Fucking woman. Fuck. How the- fucking hell. Isaiah, Finn, Arthur, get rid of the flour. I’m going for a fucking drink. Fucking hell” He grumbled as he stalked off, lighting a cigarette. How he’d break the news to Polly was another thing. He could hear her now ‘How did you let her do this, Tom?’. He could hear his own reply, defensive and honest. God, he needed a drink.

As he practically stropped through the lane towards The Garrison, it started to rain - not the light rain, either, but the heavy kind that thunders on you and bruises slightly. Tommy really wandered what god he’d pissed off some days, and he laughed to himself when he realised that she was.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby #awdw #old writing

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