#and finn was some kind of mother's boy so he was an exception

[graveyard-stray]

Since you returned || Thomas Shelby x F!Reader

Includes: Angst, PTSD, mentions of war, violence, and death, mentions of NSFW topics (briefly), swearing and yelling, rejection if you squint, fluff at the end <3

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: I literally JUST started Peaky Blinders and had to write this so if any details are wrong please forgive me!!

NOT PROOFREAD

You and Thomas Shelby had some- history to say the least.

You were practically apart of the Shelby family. Ever since you could walk you were best friends with Arthur, John, Finn, Ada, and of course- Tommy. You were the same age as Ada and grew up next door to the family so you spent lots of time with her, and in turn also her brothers.

You could almost always be found running around the street with the Shelby children, playing stupid games or causing a bit of trouble. The brothers never seemed to really care that you and Ada were girls. I mean sure they would be protective over you with danger or boys, but they didn’t exclude you or limit the activities just cause of your gender- and for this time period, that meant a lot.

Tommy in particular, you had always taken an interest in. He was quieter than the other brothers, and a bit smarter too. He was calm and calculated but also fun and sweet. You knew you could always go to him if you needed something and he had no problem getting into fights to protect you and Ada.

It was a very prominent memory in your mind, the day you realized your crush on Tommy. It was your 13th birthday and he was the first Shelby to arrive at your home to wish you a happy birthday. Even before Ada, who you could only assume was running around with her little boyfriend. Of course you didn’t mind though.

But it was your birthday and you were home alone as your mother was away at work and your father had been dead for years, and you heard a knock on your door. You got up from the table where you sat eating some breakfast and strode towards the door, upon opening it you see a 16 year old Tommy standing infront of you. He smiled down at you. “I believe I owe you, a Happy Birthday” He said rather smug and sarcastically but in a fun and playful manner.

You couldn’t help the smile that emerged from your face as he pulled you into a quick hug, once he drew away from you, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a small box wrapped with some ribbon, “And a little gift for you, of course.” he held the box out towards you. Your face tinted a bit pink as you looked down “oh Tommy you really didn’t have to get me anything.” You insisted. “Oh but of course I did, your 13 years old today, practically an old woman now!” He joked, causing you to giggle sweetly.

You grabbed the box from his hands and unwrapped the ribbon carefully. Your smile grew wide as you opened the box to see a silver bracelet inside. You weren’t sure if it was real but you’d didn’t care of course. What meant a lot to you was the fact it was silver. Everyone usually gave you things colored gold, but you really didn’t like gold. You were just too nice to say anything. Except once- mentioning it offhandedly. You didn’t think any one heard but…he did. He always heard you when you spoke.

“It’s silver, since I know you don’t like gold all that much.” Tommy mentioned as he observed your reaction to the gift. You smiled widely up at him and quickly wrapped your arms around him in another hug. He smiled and hugged you back.

After he left you realized his kindness. He was always kind to you, he listened when you spoke and sometimes you felt like he knew more about you than Ada. And then you can’t forget he is quite handsome.

From that day on your ever waking thought was consumed by Tommy Shelby.

13 YEARS LATER; 1919

Ever since he had returned from the war, Tommy wasn’t the same. He wasn’t Tommy anymore. Tommy Shelby was long gone. This was Mr. Shelby. The leader of the Peaky Blinders and the toughest man in Birmingham.

The day he came back from France you ran to him, you went to give him a hug and to welcome him home but he stepped away, avoiding your embrace. You were confused and a bit concerned at this reaction, taking note of his glare and the almost blank expression that painted his face. The light behind his eyes you knew so well was gone.

His refusal of your hug was exceptionally odd because- before he left you were quite close more so then usually. You were both in your 20s and it was unspoken but there was definitely a bit of tension there. You weren’t sure if he felt the same about you, but you were undeniably in love with him, more than just a grade school crush.

Now though, he was a completely different man. If you were told he was a different person entirely- not even named Thomas Shelby, just with the same face…you might actually believe it.

The fun gaze he possessed before was replaced by a hard glare. The smile you were so familiar with replaced by a constant blank expression or scowl. You could’ve swore you saw him smoking a cigarette 24/7 (although that wasn’t TOO strange for him) His face was thinner, his eyes baggier, and all around you could see that this was a broken man.

You walked into the Shelby family meeting and took a seat next to Aunt Polly. Arthur looked at you and furrowed his brows, “Uh no, this is a family meeting, You are not a Shelby. Your a (l/n).” He scolded you. But you didn’t move or even seem to acknowledge his words.

“(y/n)!” He snapped, attempting to get you to reply. You turned to him slowly, staying in your seat and taking a long drag from your cigarette. “As far as your concerned I am a Shelby. I helped your sister and aunt run this place while you were off in France, and now here I am getting disrespected and have no say? What happened?” You defended yourself, your tone quite unbothered.

Before Arthur could speak Tommy chimed in, “we came back.” He said, answering your question. Your eyes moved to him, “did you though?” You asked rhetorically. He was going to reply but Polly cut him off and began the meeting.

After the meeting ended you were the last to leave, or at least you thought you were. There you sat, in your chair looking out the window, cigarette between your fingers as you got lost in thought.

You were pulled out of your mind by a rough voice behind you, “What the hell do you think your doing?” Tommy asked angrily. “Smoking.” You replied matter a factly.

He scoffed, “you know damn well that ain’t what I mean. Showing up to family meetings and acting like you are one of us, like your a peaky blinder.” He scolded you.

You got up angrily and faced him. “I am a peaky blinder Thomas. While you were away fighting in that damn war I was here! I was here with Polly and Ada, and we ran this place. We did a bloody good job at it too! I am just as capable as you are!” You defended.

He looked down at you, “it isn’t safe, the people out there are bloody viscous. Your gonna get ripped to shreds!” He said, the scowl on his face never faltering.

“You don’t get to tell me what is and isn’t safe for me, who do you think you are? My keeper? Not in a million years Thomas!” She spat at him, the words seeping into him like venom. He hadn’t heard you call him by his full first name, ever- not that he really thought about it.

He got angry now, although deep down it wasn’t anger, it was sadness. Of course it didn’t come out that way… “ACTUALLY, I CAN TELL YOU WHAT IS AND ISN’T SAFE BECAUSE I AM IN CHARGE AROUND HERE. IF YOU WANT TO BE A PEAKY BLINDER YOUR GONNA LEARN TO FOLLOW ORDERS LIKE A DAMN OBEDIENT WOMAN.” He yelled in your face. You didn’t flinch, just frowned angrily and shook your head.

“Where is Tommy. I want him back.” You said softly? Mostly to yourself. “The hell do you mean? I’m standing right fuckin’ infront of you!” He said, still angry and now a bit confused.

You looked him in the eyes. Those piercing blue eyes that used to hold the world and now, were empty and cold. “The boy who used to care for me, for others. The boy who was kind…who knew my favorite color and cared to say goodmorning and goodnight and wish me a happy birthday every year. The boy who laughed and joked and had fun and had a life! The man who would NEVER speak to me, or any other woman for that matter, like I was some common whore!” You retorted.

He scoffed, “What? You expected me to come back and be the EXACT same man? You have no idea what happened over there! you could think about it realistically- But no! your just a little girl who doesn’t understand how the god damn world works. I mean seriously, PEOPLE DIED. I WATCHED PEOPLE DIE. That changes man! And besides, what’s it matter to you anyway?!” He yelled.

You took his face in your hands roughly, putting on hand on each cheek and forcing him to look you in your eyes as you said this, said the thing you always had wanted to tell him but were always to scared to say. “IT MATTERS BECAUSE I LOVED TOMMY SHELBY. I LOVED HIM MORE THAN ANYTHING AND NOW ALL I GET IS A MAN WHO IS ANGRY AND COLD AND JUST BLOODY MEAN!” You screamed, trying to suppress the tears that threatened your eyes. Not wanting to seem weak.

He pulled away from your grasp on his face and rolled his eyes “oh, so your upset because I didn’t take you home and sleep with you as soon as I got back? FUCK, you really are a cheap fucking whore!” He yelled, slamming a drawer closed.

“THAT ISN'T THE POINT AT ALL!” You yelled and looked up to blink, so the tears wouldn’t fall. “THE POINT IS THAT I LOVED YOU….” Your tone began to soften and the tears finally fell. “I loved you and, god- Thomas I know your struggling and I know that everything over there was horrible. But you won’t even let me help you. You won’t let anyone! All you do is get angry and mean and bitter and…I know my worth and I don’t deserve this.” You responded finally. Before turning and leaving the room.

As you left Tommy watched you go, the anger in his face now melting away and revealing the sadness. He realized he had made a mistake.

3 days later; 1919

You hadn’t spoken to Tommy in days. You had been entirely avoiding him. Mostly out of anger at how he spoke to you, and partially out of embarrassment and guilt. You knew he was struggling and ended up just screaming at him instead of trying to talk to him- but in your defense he was being rude first. And then you told him you were in love with him which you never even considering doing. It was not the greatest memory right now.

Tommy seemed quite alright, some rough business with other gangs but nothing too out of the ordinary, you knew how business was.

It was around midnight you assumed, you had just gotten out of bed to make some tea since you were unable to sleep. As you waited for the water to heat you heard a knock at the door. You looked suspiciously at it.

You grabbed your gun off the table near the door and held it tight as you looked through the peephole.

A soft sigh left your lips as you saw who it was, Thomas Shelby. You rolled your eyes before putting your gun down and opening the door to see what he could possibly want.

You hadn’t noticed through the peephole but he looked pretty messy. In just his pajamas and a jacket, his hair a mess and his face covered in sweat. You looked concerned, and any annoyance you had at his arrival soon washed away.

“I uh. I had a nightmare.” Tommy started, as he stood nervously in your doorway. “I’ve been having them every night really.” He continued softly. Your gaze softened. “Oh Tommy. Come in.” You moved out the way and let him walk in, he took a seat on your sofa as you closed the door and took the water off the stove- then moved to join him on the couch.

“I’m sorry (y/n). For the other day and showing up here now. All those things I said I- I didnt mean it. Your not a whore. Or a stupid little girl, you’re smart and beautiful and you’ve always been a deal too good for me…and tonight I woke up from my nightmare and I just. I don’t know…You said you wanted to help me, and I was scared of letting anyone help me. But I..love you.” He confessed, the look in his eyes tired and sad, but also that warm familiar look you knew well.

You put your hands on his cheeks softly, a striking 180 from how you held his face the other day, and placed your forhead against his. You could feel his shaky breaths on your face as you just sat there for a moment. “I will help you get through this, all of it. Because I love you too, Tommy.” You said as you sat there, once again getting to feel and smell him there with you, you missed this proximity to him.

Tommy smiled a soft smile as you called him his nickname. He put his hands atop yours, which were still on his face, and leaned in to connect his lips with yours in a quick kiss. It was quick but it was also soft and loving. You both had clearly waited for this for so long and it was worth it. “I missed hearing you call me that.” Tommy admitted. “I always thought my name sounded best coming out of your mouth” he said a bit suggestively. You chucked.

“Why don’t we head upstairs to my room? You can stay here, incase you have another nightmare.” You suggested, smiling softly at him as you pulled away from the closeness to look at him fully. He nodded softly before getting up.

As you got back to your room and crawled into bed and layed on your side facing the wall. He climbed in a moment after you, you could feel the dip in the mattress as he got in and under the covers. After he adjusted for a moment you felt his arm wrap around your waist and his body press against yours, his face burying in your hair. “I hope this is alright, love.” He asks softly.

You smile and grab hold of his hand which is resting on your stomach. “Definitely.” You reply as you both snuggle close and drift off to sleep.

Tommy Shelby didn’t have another nightmare that entire night he spent cuddled up with you in your bed, and sure he had a long way to go but he knew with your help it would be okay.

#peaky blinders #cillian murphy #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #cillian murphy x reader #x reader #angst #hurt comfort #fluff

[v4nces]

my avatar ocs part 1 — kieran adler-solace

this is a continuation from my last post about avatar 3 in a way, except that its explaining/describing one of my oc’s

backstory

kieran isaac adler-solace was born may 28th, 2151 to his mom finn adler and his father asher solace. he was the second oldest of four, all being boys.

growing up, he grew to resent earth, with its overpopulation and dirt. after his first history class, he grew envious of how earth used to be and there was this constant hole in his chest of that want. he wanted to be away from this planet.

eventually, he heard of pandora. whenever he heard of pandora, it felt like the constant hole in his chest was beginning to stitch itself together. he couldn’t believe that there was a planet so beautiful in this galaxy. he knew that he needed to go there one day, but he wasnt sure how, considering that jake sully banned all humans from pandora except for a select few, from what he had been told. he knew that his kind of cousin norm (theyre not really related, considering that the only way that they would be is through his mom’s stepmom’s family, his moms stepmom was norm’s oldest sister) stayed there.

he never really knew norm but he did know that the spellmans and the adler-solace’s were pretty close.

right after he graduated, he heard that they were taking young graduates who wanted to help with the RDA to pandora. very happy and excited, he signed up.

that entire week, he was a ball of anticipation, happiness, and nervousness. this was finally happening. he was finally getting away from this planet.

on the ride over to pandora, he felt the hole that had been eating away in his chest fully heal. he never thought that the feeling would go away, but, it was like being away from earth was his true key to happiness.

then, things took a turn. a short while after they got in the pandoran skies, the plane started malfunctioning. panicking, he grabbed his bag, full of his exopacks, food, and a map of and to bridgehead. that were the only things he had managed to grab before the plane crashed.

he put on one of his exopacks, and wondering why he decided to put it on. he was fully expecting to turn into a pancake in five seconds. instead, he felt something soft. it was a bush. he was shocked.

after a few minutes of laying there, processing what just happened, he began looking for people. that is, until he ran into a light blue-almost grey na’vi teen, with calloused hands and feet with red coverings and a spear straight in hand. compared to her, he was an ant, which was entertaining to him, considering he was the tallest in his family at 6’3.

the girl immediately almost kills him, and yet somehow, he isn’t scared. he’s curious and fascinated. for some reason, the girl decided against it and tells him that they must meet, what he assumes, is their leader. she whistles to the mountains, which continues to interest him, and theres a whistle back, he assumes this is a way they communicate. this must be how the na’vi work. he had heard of the na’vi, yes, of course, but all he knew was that they were ‘10 feet tall blue alien people’ and that was all he knew.

he was taken to their clan leader, he figured out name was her name was varang, and somehow, to reasons unknown to him, was practically accepted into the clan. even the girls father, peylak, and mother, miruí, accepted him.

after almost a year or a year, i cant decide with this one, he began noticing he needed more ajr. so, he got salyrru to bring him to the edge of bridgehead, from what he knew. it took them a while but it was manageable.

he told her to come back in two days and while very reluctant (she didn’t know where bridgehead was, she was on the edge of the forest, quite far from bridgehead because thats as far as the directions on the map went, and he took the map), left him there for two days. three days come by, and he’s dead, somewhere near yet far from the spot he was last seen at.

i know how he died, he was killed but by who, i know who but it’ll be like a guessing game for u, but he was captured by the rda so it’s not that hard to figure out. his death happened around the beginning of atwow, and i bring that up because he and spider, during the short time he was captured, grew a little close. they related to eachother heavily and he gave him two bracelets that he had managed to make because he found some embroidery floss or thread so he made two. the first one was for spider himself and the other was for salyrru. he told him to give it to her if he ever finds her when he dies because he knew he would, people made that very clear. he also had a necklace but didn’t take that off.

they dumped his body in the forest kinda, which is where salyrru found him. she took his bracelet and if i continue on, it’ll get too much into salyrru’s character which i have saved for a different post.

personality

he’s always been kind, yet stubborn, especially in his beliefs. if he believed something, he believed it with his whole chest and there was no possible way you could change his mind. for example, his parents tried to talk him out of going to pandora, saying it would do more bad than good, but kieran strongly believed that it’d do more good than bad, and he was going to pandora whether they liked it or not.

he’s always felt like he doesnt belong, like jake in a sense, but didn’t really know why that was until he was accepted into the ash clan, which i’ll call the mangkwan clan (based off a snipped of something in the comics but we dont know if that is the actual clan name but until then, i’ll just refer to them as the mangkwan clan) and he truly felt like he belonged, even without an avatar.

a reason why he’s accepted into the clan is because the one who interprets the will of eywa (or their version of eywa, if that makes sense. i believe that they believe in eywa, but it’s very different from the rest of the tribes on pandora.) can see him in a way. i always struggle with the one who does this being salyrru or an elder, maybe peylak, varang, or miruí, but for now, we’ll say the elder but salyrru’s opinion is always valued too. they see that he is fierce, strong, and a great potential warrior.

looks

he’s 6’3, as previously stated before. this is where it gets complicated for me, because i really suck at explaining, wording, and describing things, but i’ll try my best (if i post someone different with this exact same description let it be known that the person who plays him is an oc actor of mine called silas naftali that i’m not getting into)

he has brown eyes and really tan. he has a hooked nose and brown hair. he can’t grow his hair out to something other than a buzzcut type haircut, which is something that he’s been sporting since childhood. it’s nothing bad just a genetic thing. he and his family are also jewish.

family

he’s the second oldest of four. it goes like

caleb — 5 years older

kieran

isaiah — 1 year younger

malachi — 5 years younger

his family are pretty close

and that’s the end of kieran’s stuff this sucks so bad and im sorry for that, salyrru is next. sorry for this being so long 😭

#avatar #avatar 3 #ash people #ash na'vi #avatar the way of water #original character #character stuff #my ocs #spider socorro #jake sully #recoms #norm spellman

[worldismyne]

Enchanted

Approximate Date of Origin: 10/12/12

Author: Unknown; I do not take credit for this fic

Rated: G

Summary: Cinderella fairytale parody. But with Finn and Harv

Once upon a time, in a land, far, far, far, far, far away, there lay a kingdom, a kingdom that was ruled by a beautiful and curvaceous Queen with short, spiky, silky golden white hair, a clear, unblemished face, and gentle pink eyes. She was the fairest of them all, and the kindest by far... Well, actually, she thinks that she's the fairest of them all since she killed that girl and the dwarves-Why the dwarves you ask? Well, they creeped her son out, and whatever creeped her son out, and whatever creeped her son out would be terminated-... And she's actually a total bitch through and through. Everyone that was in the castle knew this. Except the one person closest to her. Her son, the Prince. The Prince, Finn, was a young boy with lilac eyes, golden white hair, and an almost always happy atmosphere around him. He came in second to the most kind person in the land, the first being Dorothy, though, technically, she was back in Kansas so... But, anywho, Finn trusted his mother, or Mommy, unconditionally. He always thought she was sweet and pure and righteous as any Mommy could be. Of course, that might be due to the fact he didn't understand the concept that evil could come from his Mommy, or anyone in the kingdom except for that evil unicorn that ran him through and stalks him, not to mention haunts him in his dreams...of evil... But, that's not the point. Prince Finn was a little... naive, I suppose you could say. He believed anything his Mommy told him, and listened with apt attention. It was from her how he learned to make his hair perfect. How to walk with grace and poise. And, most importantly, how to laugh in a royal manner, which, for some reason, usually involved someone frowning and doing something while holding a fan over your mouth. But, he never questioned it. After all, his Mommy had taught him it. It must be logical. Enough explaining on that matter, now let's move onto what this whole thing really circles around! In a month or so, Prince Finn will have his thirteenth year on the blue and green sphere we call earth. In celebration of this, there was to be a ball held in his honor, after all, thirteen was the year adolescence ended. Of course, Prince Finn was excited, thinking of all the presents he would receive, hopefully more that what he had gotten last year. One million presents?! That the was the lowest number yet! Unbeknown to him however, was the fact that in this said ball, his Mommy would be scouting out for a girl to be the Princess to his Prince. If Prince Finn had known of this, he would have cried out in fear and plead with his Mommy to cancel the ball. It wasn’t that he didn’t like girls. They were fun! In fact, he was brought up as a girl for a while by the maids before his Mommy ordered them to stop filling his head with womanly things. It was that they usually… swarmed him. It was overwhelming and scary. They always called out the oddest things that got garbled until it was almost impossibleto understand. Truly, the evil unicorn and the girls were almost on the same level. ..:*:.. One morning in the castle, Prince Finn was slumbering quietly, his breaths soft against his goose feather pillows, moving minutely every now and then. However, his sleep was disturbed when a hand gently carded through his hair. “Finny~ Come darling, it's time to get up.” “Mnngh...” he mumbled tiredly, turning away from his Mommy and snuggling deeper into the large mass of pink that was his bed. “I have an early birthday present for you~” the woman chuckled as, in an instant, her son was staring up at her with eager eyes. “Really?!?!?!” Finn squealed. “Of course. Would I ever lie to you, Finny?” she cooed, before he turned away from the excited youth and barked orders. Of course, Finn took no notice of his Mommy's harsh tones, too wrapped up in the idea of getting an early present... Crap that was a pun, wasn't it? Wow... awkward... At the sound of squeaking from the doorway, Finn snapped his head towards said entrance, his eyes growing wide at the size of the box that was wheeled in. He watched as the

burly men deposited it, before he excitedly, but daintily, slipped from his bed, his hair ruffled by tossing in the night, his body adorned with a long purple night shirt similar to his usual dressings. He hurried up to the box that was, he noticed, an inch or so taller than himself, and stared as the delightful carvings on the wood. Harpsichords. Oh, his mother did know him so well... He reached out a hand and caressed the carvings, humming his approval, before he jumped back when a sound came from inside, sounding like something banging on the wood. After a moment, it happened again. And again. Two times. Then in rapid succession. Finn blinked, before he smiled brightly, having an idea of what it might be. He took the ribbon swaying tantalizingly in front of him, and gave it a gentle tug. A chain reaction was set off with this action. The first: The silky blue ribbon undid itself, the pretty bow disappearing in a flourish. Two: The walls fell down, causing Finn to jump out of the way. Three: The sound stopped and was replaced with gasping and a wooden thump as whatever was in the box fell. Four: The gasps increased with small pieces of 'Oh my God! I can breathe' mixing into the needy breaths of air. Prince Finn stared down at the inhabitant of the box for a moment, completely surprised at the unexpected creature. A boy, perhaps his age, was sitting on his knees before him, hands planted firmly on one of the wooden box's walls, brown dreadlocks framing a soft brown and slightly scuffed face, as well as resting against the other's shoulders, most of it being held back with a green neckerchief. Prince Finn examined the other's face for a moment, before his eyes slid down to what the other was wearing, his eyes lighting up in recognition at the forest green and lime green tones, patches included. “Mommy!” Finn exclaimed, whirling around, smiling happily, before he tackled his Mommy with a large hug. “Thanks you! My very own servant! I though it was a horse or a dog or a cat- but this is even better!!!” he exclaimed, nuzzling his nose into the Queen's stomach happily. With a gentle chuckle, she opened her mouth to reply, only to be cut off. “What?!” both items of royalty looked over to where the word had come from, eyes landing on the now glaring boy. “Who do you think you're talking about? I'm no one's servant.” the boy growled, standing up carefully as not to fall over. “A warrior in training does not a servant make!” he spat, crossing his arms defiantly. After a moment of silence, Prince Finn lifted a hand and pointed at the other, his face bright. “Then, why are you wearing those? Usually, servants wear those!” he chirped, making a confused look appear on the boy's face. “What are you-” he began, moving his eyes as to look down at himself, only for him to choke off his words as his eyes, wide and afraid, laid upon his attire. “A-ah?” he choked out, his throat dry, before he looked over his shoulder at himself. “Ah?” he then grabbed on the dress and tugged, as if the whole thing would fall apart and his usual attire would appear. “A-ahhhhhhhhhhh!” he whined/shrieked, falling to his knees and trying fruitlessly to pull off the dress. This couldn't be happening! It couldn't be! He wasn't wearing a dress! He wasn't! “He looks really good in it, doesn't he, Mommy?” Prince Finn questioned his mother, looking up to her and giggling. “Oh yes, truly.” she agreed, giggling along with her son. “Perfect length.” He snapped his eyes up at the two royal blonds, his periwinkle blue eyes aflame in anger. “What did you do?! Why am I here?!” he growled, his hands clutching into the skirt tightly. The last thing he remembered, was that he was cutting firewood so he and his family could cook that night, when he was suddenly apprehended by two burly men, and a cloyingly sweet scented handkerchief was pressed against his nose. “And why am I in a dress?!?!?!” he exclaimed. “Because you're my early birthday present!” Prince Finn put in helpfully, making the other boy freeze. “...Present?” “Yep!” “... You can't have a person as a

present!” the boy burst, making Prince Finn frown. “But Mommy said...” “And why would I be in a dress?! Huh?! Answer me that!” Almost instantly, Finn brightened. “Oh! That's easy! You're my new servant! And all the servant girls here wear clothes like that!” “But I'm a boy! Boys don't wear this kind of stuff!!!” the blond seemed momentarily puzzled by this, nibbling on his bottom lip, before he replied snootily. “Well they should.” the blue eyed boy stared at the other, his jaw having dropped. He watched as the other looked up at his mother, smiling. “In fact, I'll call you...?” he he trailed off, looking up to his mother. "What's his name, Mommy?" “Harv, dear.” she replied, smiling down at her son, "How about... Harvarella?" they shared a smile, before they proceeded to giggle. The brown skinned boy stared at the two giggling blonds, his right eye twitching slightly. He had been captured by a insane institution. He wasn't an idiot, he knew that these two were the Prince and the Queen, but that didn't change his contempt and wariness towards the two. The royalty could not be trusted after all... “I don't know what's going on in your heads.” the boy muttered, catching their attention. “But I'm not becoming a servant. And I am CERTAINLY not being called Harvarella.” “Huh?! B-but-” stuttered Prince Finn, eyes suddenly wide. Without a glance back, the boy turned and headed towards the open doors, only for two burly men to block his way, making him freeze. Eying them up and down, he deducted that it would be difficult to defeat just one of them, unless he used his agility and dashed out of this hell hole... “I don't think you'll be going anywhere, Harvarella.” the boy gritted his teeth. “It's Harv. And why would that be m'lady.” he questioned sarcastically, not bothering to look at her. “I'm fast enough to slip past these thugs, easy.” “Hmm... No reason...” she hummed, before she let out a little gasp. “Oh my! Look at these!” Harv's brow furrowed at the woman's words. “Oooh! What?!” questioned the Prince excitedly, most likely trying to see what the Queen was talking about. “However did I get these pictures?” the brown skinned boy felt his heart stop. Pictures? Pictures were never good in this kind of situation. Harv, unsure, looked over his shoulder to see the Prince trying to get the pictures and the Queen tutting him gently. “What-” he cleared his throat, his tongue suddenly dry. “Wh-what pictures?” he questioned, his voice disgustingly timid to his own ears. The Queen looked to him with an innocent expression. “Oh, nothing.” she said, walking forward, her son following, still trying to see the pictures. “Just pictures of you...” she held up the pictures in front of his face, making his eyes widen. “While you were sleeping in the crate. What a pretty thing you make. Like Sleeping Beauty.” the woman cackled as Harv whipped around and made a grab for the pictures, the Queen moving just out of reach, his cheeks dark with embarrassment. The woman then looked to the burly men. “Which, reminds me, invite her as well.” Those pictures were so misleading. One had him curled up, the skirt hitched slightly up to his thigh. Another had him on his back, one hand in his hair and the other on his stomach. There was also one with him in a bra and ladies undergarments... Wait, did that mean he was wearing one right NOW?!?!??! Oh GOD he hoped not! Obviously not the bra since he didn't feel any straps on his shoulders. Another picture had him in a corset. That was one of the worst! “I think you should stay, Harvarella.” the Queen mused, looking down upon the scarred warrior in training. "It's HARV!" "Hmmm... Perhaps I should submit them to the news paper..." “You... you soulless witch...” mumbled Harv, his pupils contracted in shock and fear. “...Fine.” “Yay!” suddenly, Harv found himself in a tight grasp. “I have a servant! Weee!” Prince Finn looked up at Harv with eager, almost hungry eyes. Harv's right eye twitched in annoyance and disgust. This boy was sickeningly sweet. And not the kind that makes you want to

never eat candy again. The kind that makes you want to throw up, and go on a sweet strike. Which was unthinkable. With a grumble, he disentangled himself from the young one and brushed his-shudder-dress off, relieving it of non-existent dust particles. "Yeah yeah..." he muttered, before he crossed his arms and looked to the Queen. "What am I supposed to do, your Highness?" he questioned, earning narrowed eyes from said woman. "I think that's up to Prince Finn, don't you think, Harvarella?" this earned a growl, only for it to be cut off by Prince Finn's squeal. "I'm so excited!" Harv watched as, quite suddenly, Prince Finn adopted a more... sophisticated demeanor, pulling out a lilac hue fan from out of nowhere and looking down on him-how he could do this when he was shorter was a mystery-, a sinister aura about him. "This," he purred, making chills of fear run up and down Harv's spine. "Shall be fun." ..:*:..:*:.. "Hmhmhmmm..." hummed Prince Finn to himself as he made his usual ritual of brushing his hair one-hundred times. "Such golden locks lie upon thine fair head, wonderfully tussled when risen from mine..." he trailed off, pursing his lips in confusion, before he called, "Harvarella? What rhymes with head?" his response was an irritable growl. Currently, Harv was sweeping the Prince's floor angrily. After two weeks, he had grown accustomed to the name, but that didn't mean it didn't bug the hell out of him. He had learned, over the span of two weeks, that Prince Finn was obsessed with singing little tunes like a traveling Bard, and would make rhymes all DAY, usually the simple endings being filled in by Harvarell- Er, Harv. "Bed." he gave the other, making the Prince smile. "Such golden locks lie upon thine fair head, wonderfully tussled when risen from mine bed- Hey! It worked!" he exclaimed, making Harv groan. The Prince was a complete ditz at times... "Done!" Prince Finn chirruped, setting his royal brush in his night stand drawer. He then turned and looked to Harv, who was still sweeping. "Harvarella, why were you so angry about sweeping before?" Finn questioned, making Harv grit his teeth. "Because, sweeping is for GIRLS." he stated, recalling how, after seeing the latest pictures of himself sleeping a week ago, he was forced into accepting he needed to sweep, Mother and Son laughing behind their fans as he did so. "Plus, I suck at it." he muttered to himself, hoping the other hadn't caught that. Of course, he had all the bad luck. "Nu-uh!" Prince Finn disagreed. "You sweep well! And don't say that! That's rude! I like sweeping sometimes, and I'm not a girl!" Finn said proudly, laying a hand on his chest. "Why, my Mommy's servants taught me!" "Hn..." Harv mumbled, not really caring about the other's history. "Whatever." After a moment of silence, Harv heard Prince Finn sigh, the gentle sound of him flopping on his bed reaching his ears. "Harvarella, what's it like to be in Poverty?" Prince Finn questioned, making Harv's sigh. "It's better than this." he muttered, making the Prince look at him. "Really?" "Yeah." "How?" "Well..." Harv let his arms rest, his periwinkle blue eyes looking out the large window. "For one, I have my family, like my little brothers and my goat and my mom and my dad..." his lids lowered minutely. "And at the Academy, I got to get into fights and joke around with my friends... Chores sucked though." "...Hm." mumbled Finn, looking up at the purple ceiling. "Sounds... boring." Harv gripped tight onto the stick of his broom and gritted his teeth. "Whatever! I wouldn't expect a Prince to understand!" he harshly smacked the broom bristles against the hard wood part of the floor. "What do you mean?" Prince Finn questioned, his brows furrowing. "You get everything you want!" Harv spat. "You don't even know what family means, I bet!" "Hey! That's not true!" Finn exclaimed. "I have my Mommy! She's family!" "Feh! You just like her because she gives you stuff!" Harv returned, snapping his head to glare at the Prince, meeting him gaze for gaze. "Nu-uh! I love her because

she's nice! And kind! And my Mom!" "Shows what you know! Your mom is a terrible person!" Harv threw at the other. "She is NOT!" "Yes. She is!" "She's the prettiest woman in the land!" "Says her." "And her mirror!" "Oooh, well then, she MUST be the prettiest woman in the land if a mirror says it." Harv said sarcastically. Prince Finn smiled. "Glad we see eye to eye." he quipped, before he hopped from his bed and approached the fuming Harv. "You know Harvarella," he started, a calculating look in his eye. "I was wondering... If you've ever been to a ball before?" 'Huh?' Harv thought, blinking, before his anger was placed with annoyance. "What's with the sudden change of subject?!" "Awww, just answer, Harvarella!" "...No." Harv muttered. He cringed at the smile the other gained. He was probably going to say that he couldn't go and then- "Well! Then you can come to my birthday!" Prince Finn burst out. Harv's jaw dropped, his hand letting the broom go, which landed with a clatter. "...Y-you mean-" "Mmmhm!" "M-me at a- a-" "Yeppers!" "B-but I can't-" "No need to thank me, Harvarella!" Prince Finn giggled, admiring the boy's astonished, almost elated expression. "After all, in a way, you're my best friend!" Harv stared at the boy a moment, completely taken with shock at this news. First he was invited to a royal ball. And then, he was dubbed the Prince's best friend. This was insane. "Wh-why-" Prince Finn shrugged. "Well, you ARE the only boy near my age I like to be around." Finn said matter of fact, smiling up at Harv. Suddenly, it fell into a frown. "We'll have to get you some proper attire though..." Harv listened as Finn made vocal mental notes, brushing a hand here and there every once in a while, his own mind drifting gently. 'I'm... going to a ball?' he thought, his heart skipping a beat. It was a secret of his, one that his own family had not been let in on. He, a warrior in training, destined to kill monsters and battle foes... Wanted to go to at least one ball. The thought of dancing, letting his feet lead him instead of his mind, was a dream. But the fact that he couldn't dance, and also the humiliation it would bring if he let others know, kept him from it. It was then, with a loud bang, that the Queen stomped in, raising an eyebrow at the sight of a dazed Harava- Harv and a surprised Finn standing right in front of the former. "Mommy! Hi!" Finn chirped, making her smile. "Hello, dear. Are you having fun with Harvarella?" "Oh, yes! Just trying to figure out what he can wear to the ball!" Finn giggled, not noticing the surprised look that came across his mother's face. "I was thinking a green suit? Perhaps-" "My dear!" the woman cut him off, chortling. "What a cute little joke!" "Huh?" both boys questioned, Harv being broken of his thoughts by the laugh. The Queen smiled. "Peasants, much less servants, are not allowed at the ball.” Harv’s eyes widened, his eyes darting towards the boy next to him, only to see he was shocked as he. But he quickly adopted a smile. “Oh… oh yes.” He agreed, his tone unsure as he moved over beside his mother, not meeting Harv’s eyes. “A-a joke…” Harv stared at the other for a moment, shocked to the core, before he remembered himself. This was the Prince. The moron he’d been forced to be with for a week. A WEEK. He was selfish. He was rich. Of course he had lied. He sent the blond a glare, making him flinch and look guiltily at the ground. With a ‘hmph’, Harv turned his back to them and continued to sweep, his cheeks burning in annoyance as the Queen laughed. “He’s moronic for thinking you were serious! Hee he!” she giggled, the snap of a fan opening letting him know she was covering her mouth. “Ah… Y-yes! Hoo ho…” Finn giggled weakly. ..:*:..:*:..:*:.. “Well… How do I look?” Harv looked up from his seat next to the Prince’s bed, his eyes landing on the-now-thirteen year old. He wore a formal, blue petticoat and a baise neckerchief tied around his neck. Under this, he wore an earth brown shirt-Harv wasn’t sure what kind it was, but he knew it was

expensive-and baise tights. His hair was coifed to have more flair and flips in it. He looked as mature as the moron could possibly be. “…Fine.” Harv grunted, before looking back to the ground. It was the night of Prince Finn’s birthday, where everyone invited in the kingdom would come and give him presents and dance and mingle. And Harv wished he was dead. He was going to spend the night in the Prince’s room, staring at nothing and cleaning anything that needed to be. “Good!” Finn chirped, before he looked into the full length mirror he stood in front of. He pulled at the edge of his petticoat gently. “I can’t wait, Harvarella!” he gushed, glancing over his shoulder. “Thirteen. Wow… I’m growing up so fast…” he murmured in glee, earning a grumble. “Oh, come on! It’s my birthday! Everyone should be happy on my birthday!” “Well, I’m not.” Harv snapped. Finn frowned at the other. “Is this about the whole ‘You can’t come,’ thing?” “No! I didn’t even want to go!” Harv growled. “Just- hurry up and go, Prince! Before I make you!” he threatened, making Finn squeak and rush out of his room. Harv sighed, walking over to the door and closing it, before he turned to face the horribly pink room. Gritting his teeth, he lifted his hands and slipped off the neckerchief he wore, scratching his head afterwards. What was he supposed to do now? He glanced out the window at the sound of a shriek and a whinny, smirking. That had to be the Prince, screaming at the sight of a horse. He snorted. ‘Moron’ Walking forward, he peered out the window and watched as Finn’s mother helped him into the carriage, the boy shivering terribly in fear. He watched as they rode off. The smirk fell from his face as the carriage drove out of sight, the boredom setting in quickly. He lifted his gaze to the sky, heaving out a sigh. He could almost imagine his friends in the stars, smiling and waving at him, laughing, thrusting teasingly with their swords. He missed them. He missed his family, as annoying as they were. It was then an idea struck him. He could sneak out! He could escape this hell hole! He could- It was then he realized that, one, there were at least one-hundred guards surrounding the area and he had no idea where his house was from here. With a growl, he pushed himself away from the window, furiously wiping at his eyes. What was wrong with him? Warriors didn’t cry. It had to be the dress, it was messing with him somehow… He soon found himself sitting on Prince Finn’s bed-screw the rules!-and pounding into his pillow. “Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!!” he cried out, his eyes watering. He hated his life! He wanted to get out of here! He wanted to get back home! When he finally stopped, his chest was heaving, his hair hanging in his face, gritting his teeth wildly. He buried his face in his hands. God, he was turning into a girl. He only raised his gaze from his hands as he noticed something shining brightly, making him squint his eyes. “…What the heck?” ..:*:..:*:..:*:.. “M-mommy…” Prince Finn whimpered, his eyes darting around at all the girls on the side lines, giggling at him as he clutched to the Queen. “Wh-why are there so many girls here?!” he exclaimed quietly. “Mommy just wants you to mingle, darling.” The woman cooed down at the boy. “And make sure to kiss them on the hand as they arrive.” He shook his head and hid behind her, his heart pounding in absolute fear, only to be pushed towards the stairs by his mother as a girl walked down the stairs, a burly man in tow. “Hi.” The girl in a pretty orange dress said shyly, smiling cheekily. Finn stared at her fearfully, before he looked over his shoulder to see his Mommy staring at him expectantly. He looked back at the girl and swallowed, taking a deep breath and smiling back. “W-welcome. I’m glad you could come.” He said, before he took the girl’s hand and kissed it gently. Once she went into the party, looking very flushed, Finn gagged and coughed, wiping his lips. Perfume. Tons of it that had a bad flavor had coated the girl’s gloves. It was disgusting… As the rest arrived, Finn

kissed their hands, making sure they were gone, before he gagged and wiped the cloying perfume from his lips, wincing in distaste. ‘I don’t know any of these girls! And they’re girls! I don’t like girls!’ he ranted as he kissed the tenth hand of the evening. He couldn’t wait until they got to the presents… When he finally- finally thought that was all the girls, a hush fell over the crowd. He looked around, before he looked up, wondering what they were staring at. At the sight of who stood at the top of the stairs, his brows furrowed and his heart skipped a beat. It was a girl, it seemed. She had dark, chocolate tresses that fell just underneath her shoulders; a pretty, silver tiara laid upon her head; a pink-squee! The same color as his bed!-dress with slightly puffy sleeves, delicate traces of white lace on the cuffs, ending at the elbows, and on the edge of the dress as well; a taffy underskirt laid under the delicious pink, and swayed with her as she walked down the stairs. Her skin was a caramel brown, and her eyes a nervous periwinkle blue. She was familiar, and yet not. ‘I would have remembered her…’ he thought, his lavender eyes following her as she approached him, looking nervous and trying to hide her face a bit with her bare hands. All the other girls had worn gloves. He himself walked up a few steps as the girl started to reach the bottom. His heart pounded quicker as the girl looked at him, never mind the ultimate look of fear she bore. He’d never felt so compelled to talk to a girl before, and it was terrifying, truth be told, especially since he could swear he had seen her before. “Hi.” He said, stepping up to the slightly taller girl. He watched as her eyes darted around. “Uh… hey?” her tone was questioning. Finn felt elation light up inside him when she didn’t giggle or freak out at seeing him. “I’m… glad you could come.” He said, before he took the girl’s hand and leaned in, pausing at the natural scent of earth come from her, staring into her uncomfortable gaze. After a moment, before leaned forward and kissed her cheek, inhaling the gentle earthy scent, his cheeks tinting slightly as he did so. ..:*:..:*:..:*:.. Harv cringed and closed his eyes as his cheek was kissed, his hand held in the Prince’s own, annoyance and embarrassment filling him, his cheeks darkening considerably. How did this happen? One second, he was talking to a woman who had appeared out of nowhere, and the next, he was here in a dress, getting kissed by the Prince. Thank god he hadn’t recognized him- but still. When the other pulled away, he looked shocked, before he shook his head and smiled nervously. “Would… would you like to dance, princess?” he questioned, making Harv’s heart flutter, before he shook his head, the annoying curls brushing his cheek. “No, I don’t know how to-“ “Nonsense! I’ll teach you!” Prince Finn chirped, before he pulled Harv out onto the dance floor, where people had resumed dancing. He stopped and stared at Harv a moment, before he moved his free hand and took Harv’s, setting it on his shoulder. “Put your hand like this…” he murmured, then slid his hand down to rest on Harv’s hip, making his eyes widen. “And now, we’ll start by swaying…” he instructed, moving gently with the boy, who was trying to decipher properly what was happening. He was with the Prince. Being touched, and led gently into a ballroom dance. Soon, they were swirling across the dance floor, Finn smiling up at him. “That’s it! You’ve got it! You know, you really took onto this quickly.” He complimented, making Harv shrug. “Er, thanks…” “I mean, it took me weeks before I caught on. At the time, I was three and I had a sparkle in my eye. The day before, I had been at the circus with my Mommy, and I had wandered off. It was then that they brought out a rabid horse! Well, let me tell you, I didn’t have a sparkle in my eye after that!” he ranted, making Harv’s brows furrow in annoyance and confusion. “What? Wait, what does that have to do with dance-” “And another time, when I discovered music, oh it was marvelous!” he

continued, making Harv stare at him, kind of freaked out by the conversation hopping. “Blah Blah.” ‘What am I doing here?’ Harv though to himself, glaring at the ranting Prince. “Blah Blah.” He raised an eyebrow. ‘He just goes on and on…’ “Blah Blah.” ‘I don’t even like him! He makes me feel sick! Uggh… I miss my home! Please tell me it’s almost midnight!’ he thought, looking at the clock, only to be brought back to attention at the Prince’s words, his periwinkle eyes widening as he snapped them back to the blond. “You’re a listener.” He leaned up close, his lids lowering. “I LIKE that.” Shivers ran up and down Harv’s spine, before he ripped his hands from the other’s. “I-” he thanked god as the clock chimed twelve. “I have to go.” He said, backing up from the other, who looked surprised. “But-” “No buts! Just-” he turned from the Prince and was about to rush off, only for his hand to be grabbed. “Wait! Please! Stay! I- I really like you!” Finn exclaimed, burying his face into the back of Harv’s neck, puffing warm air and making his hair stand on end. “At least tell me your name…” “…It’s… Erm… H-harvarella.” He stuttered out, making the Prince let go. “I named a servant of mine by that name… *gasp* You-” Harv cringed, before he ran off, not wanting his outfit to deteriorate and show everyone who he was. ..:*:..:*:..:*:...:*:.. Harv sighed pleasantly as he stood straight, wiping his forehead and smiling into the sky. God, it was good to be home. He had been returned by that woman a week ago, and had received hugs and kisses galore. His friends the next day had punched his arm and commented on the few curls left in his hair. Stretching, he laughed as he fell back into the dirt. The firewood was cut and his brothers were being taken care of by his mother today. That meant he could relax. Absently, he lifted a hand and fingered a curl. It was something to remember that bratty Prince by… ..:*:..:*:..:*:...:*:.. A blond stared, googly eyed, at some pictures he snatched from his Mommy, laid on the bed, and a new one taken a week prior of a pretty girl in a pink dress. ..:*:..:*:..:*:...:*:.. Harv wondered… if he’d ever see him again… ‘No. That’s not possible…’ he thought, smirking. He was a free man. And he wouldn’t ever see the moron again. ..:*:..:*:..:*:...:*:.. Prince Finn sighed and gazed lovingly at the picture. “Harvarella…” he murmured, letting his fingers run against the most recent photo. “*sigh*…” it was then he sat up. “I’ll meet you again…” he murmured, “But first! I need to become a bard! I can’t wait to go in a month!

#Warrior U #WU Fanfic Archive #HarvFinn #little finnharv things

[touchedbydestiny]

somehow i think the reason why especially the older siblings never tapped into the potential witch powers was mikael. i think he probably considered it as 'woman-stuff' and valued & paid more attention to the 'viking abilities'

#and finn was some kind of mother's boy so he was an exception #don't know why i even think about this #thoughts #❖ break the fourth wall | ooc

[murswrites]

Crushed ⎯ Bonnie Gold One-Shot

Pairings: Bonnie Gold x AFAB!Reader Fandom: Peaky Blinders MASTERLIST Word Count: ~ 1,500 Warnings: Cursing, blood, drinking/smoking, violence, (kind of) misgendering. SUMMARY: You enact revenge on a fellow Blinder after he disrespects you.

A/N This was written before I used to do GN readers so I had to work around the changes. If it makes you uncomfortable to be referred to as a girl then correcting it, please don’t read this, it’s right at the beginning. Thank you for reading, I know this isn’t really a Bonnie fic but I haven’t the energy to finish it.

You met Bonnie Gold under bad circumstances, in the middle of a war and a vendetta. Well, you didn’t meet him, you merely observed from a distance how he too became a Peaky Blinder. And you couldn’t help the crush that grew with the passing time. Maybe it was not knowing who he was that made Bonnie so appealing… or maybe it was Tommy’s rule… the stupid bloody rule that made you angry to no end.

“The Peaky Boys and you aren’t to ever date, that’s my one rule.”

At the time, you agreed with a smile, not interested in any of the Blinders because you knew all of them and they weren’t your type at all. But Bonnie? He was that perfect mix of shy and cocky with a dash of pretty… and how he truly deserved the name Gold because that boy appeared to have a heart made of the very metal.

But you couldn’t have him… so you worked around it, finding every excuse you could to be around the boxer. May it be while impersonating a male Blinder by covering your face with your cap that’s far too big for you or just observing him while in the Garrison.

Finn Shelby and Isiah Jesus found your crush on Bonnie amusing, so amusing that they wouldn’t shut up about it…

“I can’t believe that Y/N’s got a crush…” Isiah mumbled under his breath and Finn nodded in agreement.

“Took them bloody long enough!”

You smacked Finn up against the head and glared at them, “Oi! Shut the fuck up, just because I don’t get a hard-on for every person I see doesn’t mean anything,” Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Bonnie enter the Garrison. “Do not say a fuckin’ word, you hear?” You threatened.

They nodded and Isiah saluted you dramatically before standing up, “Bonnie! Come over ‘ere, join us eh?!” He shouted across the crowded pub and you sighed into your hands, boys and their stupid need to ignore everything you said…

“Hey, ‘Siah, Finn, Miss.”

You cringed and scooted over in the booth, “Don’t call them miss, makes them feel old,” Finn knew you hated it when people referred to you as such a thing. You weren’t a lady, you were a Peaky fuckin’ Blinder and nearly everyone knew that. The Shelby family was practically your only family despite there being no blood connection.

“And I’m no girl.” You grumbled

With a late mother and father who left before you can remember, there isn’t a place for you except with the blinders. Your adopted family and allies. “Oh, ‘m sorry,”

“Y/N, my name’s Y/N.” Bonnie nodded with a shy smile as you struggled to meet his eyes, when you looked up at Isiah, he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively so you kicked him under the table. “I’m gonna get us some drinks, what do you take?” You knew what the idiots across from you liked, but Bonnie? You only knew his name.

“Uh, a pint is fine.” Bonnie hurried out of the booth to let you out and you were on your way to the bar.

“Harry,” You said with a smile, “Can I get the usual with a pint?” He asked if you wanted ice and you nodded, leaning against the bar with your back pressed to it. The men avoided you, but a stray young man who clearly didn’t know you were a blinder smirked at you.

“What’s a pretty one like you doin’ at the pub alone?”

Your smirk wasn’t flirtatious, it was a warning as your nostrils flared at his audacity to try and flirt with you. “Mindin’ my own fuckin’ business. Get away from me before I cut ya.” His face blanched when he saw you reaching for the clip in your hair, it was shaped like a clamshell but the edge was as sharp as a razor.

The perfect weapon. You thanked Harry for the drinks and enjoyed how–even though drunk–the men parted for you as the red sea did for Moses. “Two specialties and one pint for the Peaky Boys.” You didn't expect much to come of that night, but it seemed you and Bonnie finally became friends through the alcohol and smoke, getting closer than any friends should through the haze. 

—

The rule that Tommy made sure to reiterate still rang clear in your head as you stood among the other Peaky Blinders. Sure, you were the only female but they treated you with respect… and if they didn’t… well, nobody knows what happens to the odd blinder who looks at you wrong.

Some say they stumble home with cuts on their faces… others say they float ashore in the cut. Nobody knows the true fate of those who dare to cross Y/N L/N… but it seemed to steer trouble away from them, most of the time.

But of course, someone had to go and fuck up. You told John nearly a week after the fact, after one of the newer blinders grabbed your bum and called you a Peaky whore… he was rightfully livid, “Who the fuck did it, eh? Who’s going to get cut?”

At the time, you didn’t know what to do, you knew not to harm your fellow Peaky Blinders… but the arsehole groped you, but you were too stunned to do anything. The eldest Shelby’s stood at the front of the group, their menacing faces on. John and Arthur walked back and forth in front of the group while Tommy stood in front with his hands in front of himself.

“Now none of you know why we’re here!” Tommy paused, “Except for our honorary Peaky Blinder, Y/N. And you’re probably wondering why, eh?” A few boys nodded and you spotted Finn toward the front, his head sticking out above nearly everyone else’s.

“That’s because, some fuckin’ prick decided to disrespect our best blinder!” John shouted loudly.

Arthur practically snarled, “Y/N, get up here and identify the fool who did it!” You knew there should have been a sense of guilt washing over you as you made your way toward the Shelby men, but alas, you felt nothing.

You glanced across the many faces that stared straight ahead, but one head was facing the ground and you knew. “Him,” Everyone followed your pointed finger and stepped back to give you a better view. And like an exposed nerve, he looked up with fear in his eyes. “He did it,”

John nodded at you as Arthur began yelling, “Everyone else fuck off!” 

“Y/N, you may go, we can take care of this.”

“No,” You said.

Tommy’s eyebrows shot upward as he gave you a look of surprise, “No?”

You fell silent for a moment, staring into the coldness of the eyes of the man who practically raised you, “I want to do it.” John and Arthur immediately protested, “I said I want to fucking do it! You lot have always taken care of my problems, it’s about time I do it meself, innit?” 

“You sure you can handle it?”

“What the fuck Tom?! You’re not actually considering it, are you?”

“Of course, I am, John. They say they need to become independent, and their right. They’re nearly nineteen. We stopped helpin’ Ada far earlier.” Arthur grumbled about the war and Tom just shook his head, “Go on then, cut ‘im.”

The young man apologized to you repeatedly, “Men never mean what they say,” You grabbed his chin and forced him to meet your eyes, “I’m takin’ your eyes… so you can hear my footfalls on the cobble when I come for you. But the next time you disrespect someone, I won’t just blind you, I’ll kill you.” He struggled against you as you brought the hair clip down against his eyes.

When Arthur and John tried to help, you glared at them and ignored the feeling of blood splashing on your face and clothes. The young man’s cries for mercy and help fell upon deaf ears as you made him pay for his actions. When you were finished with him, you dropped your weapon and the boy on the ground before stepping away from him,

A strange numbness covered you completely, you didn’t understand why an overwhelming amount of guilt hadn’t yet creeped up on you… but you could care less. Tom’s eyes followed your bloody figure and he merely raised an eyebrow at your silent state.

“Take care of him, boys. Y/N here needs to wash up. Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

“I’m alright, I’m going for a drink,”

He sighed but agreed with a nod, “Don’t let anyone fuck with you,”

“Believe me, Tommy, I know the phrase better than anyone. Don’t fuck with the Peaky Blinders.”

@imaginesbymk

@bonniesgoldengirl

@retromafia

@amysteryspot

@ann-writes-things

@myriadimagines

@smallheathgangsters

@sinfulshelbys​

@vostokovasmelina

#murswrites #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #bonnie gold x reader #bonnie gold #bonnie gold imagine #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #finn shelby #arthur shelby #isaiah jesus #isiah jesus #john shelby

[blackstarising]

coming back to this post i made again to elaborate - especially as the ted lasso fandom is discussing sam/rebecca and fandom racism in general. there are takes that are important to make that i had failed to previously, but there's also a growing amount of takes that i have to, As A Black Person™, respectfully disagree with.

tl;dr for the essay below sam being infantilized and the sam/rebecca relationship are not the same issue and discussing the former one doesn't mean excusing the latter. and we've reached the glen of the Dark Forest where we sit down and talk about fandom racism.

i should have elaborated this in my last post about sam/rebecca, but i didn't. i'll say it now - i personally don't support sam and rebecca getting together for real. i believe what people are saying is entirely correct, even though sam is an adult legally, he and rebecca are, at the very least, two wildly different stages of life. for americans, he's at the equivalent of being a junior in college. there are things he hasn't gotten the chance to experience and there are areas he needs to grow in. when i was younger, i didn't understand the significance of these age gaps, i just thought it would be fine if it was legal, but as someone who is now a little older than sam in universe, i understand fully. we can't downplay this. whether or not you think sam works for rebecca or not, even despite the gender inversion of the Older Man Younger Woman trope, whether or not he is a legal adult, i don't think at this point in time, their relationship would work. i think it's an interesting narrative device, but i don't want to see it play out in reality.

that being said!

what's worrying me is that two discussions are being conflated here that shouldn't be. sam having agency and being a little more grown™ than he's perceived to be does not suddenly make his relationship with rebecca justified. i had decided to bring it up because sam was being brought into the spotlight again and i was starting to realizing that his infantilization was more common than i felt comfortable with.

sam's infantilization (and i will continue to call it that), is a microaggression. it's is in the range of microaggressions that i would categorize as 'fandom overcompensation'. we have a prominent character of color that exhibits traits that aren't stereotypical, and we don't want to appear racist or stereotypical, so we lean hard in the other direction. they're not aggressive, they're a Sweet Baby, they're not world weary, they're now a little naive. they're not cold and distant, they're so nice and sweet that there's no one that wouldn't want approach them, and yeah, on their face, these new traits are a departure and, on their face, they seem they look really good.

but at a certain point, it reaches an inflection point, and, like the aftertaste of a diet coke, that alleged sweetness veers into something a lot less sweet. it veers into a lack of agency for the character. it veers into an innocence that appears to indicate that the person can't even take care of themselves. it veers into a one-dimensional characterization that doesn't allow for any depth or negative emotion.

it's not kind anymore. it's not a nice departure from negative stereotypes. it's not compensating for anything.

it's patronizing.

it is important that we emphasize that characters of color are more than the toxic stereotypes we lay on them, yes, but we make a mistake in thinking that the solution is overcorrection. for one thing, people of color can usually tell. don't get it twisted, it's actually pretty obvious. for another, it just shifts from one dimension to another. people of color are still supposed to be Only One Character Trait while white people can contain multitudes. ted, who is pretty much as pollyanna as they come, can be at once innocent and naive and deep and troubled and funny and scared. jamie can be a prick and sexy and also lonely and also a victim of abuse. sam, however, even though he was bullied (by jamie, no less), is thousands of miles away from home, and has led a protest on his team, is usually just characterized as human sunshine with much less acknowledgement of any other traits beyond that.

and that's why i cringe when fandom calls sam a Sweet Baby Boy without any sense of irony. is that all we're taking away? after all this time? even for a comedy, sam has received a substantive of screen time over two whole seasons, and we've seen a range of emotions from him. so as a black person it's hurtful that it's boiled down to Sweet Baby Boy.

that's the problem. we need to subvert stereotypes, but more importantly, we need to understand that people of color are not props, or pieces of cardboard for their white counterparts. they are full and actualized and have agency in their own right and they can have other emotions than Angry and Mean or Sweet and Bubbly without any nuance between the two. i think the show actually does a relatively good job of giving sam depth (relatively, always room for improvement, mind you), especially holding it in tension with his youth, but the fandom, i worry, does not.

it's the same reason why finn from star wars started out as the next male protagonist in the sequel trilogy but by the third movie was just running around yelling for REY!! it's the same reason why when people make Phase 4 Is the Phase For Therapy gifsets for the mcu and show wanda maximoff, loki, and bucky barnes crying and being sad but purposefully exclude sam wilson who had an entire show to tell us how difficult his life is, because people find out if pee oh sees are also complex, they'll tell the church.

and the reason why i picked up on this very early on is because i am an organic, certified fresh, 100% homegrown, non-gmo, a little ashy, indigenous sub saharan African black person. the ghanaian tribes i'm descended from have told me so, my black ass parents have told me so, and the nurses at the hospital in [insert asian country here] that started freaking out about how curly my hair was as my mother was mid pushing me out told me so!

and this stuff has real life implications. listen: being patronized as a black person sucks. do you know how many times i was patted on the back for doing quite honestly, the bare minimum in school? do you know how many times i was told how 'well spoken' or 'eloquent' i was because i just happen to have a white accent or use three syllable words? do you know how many times i've been cooed over by white women who couldn't get over how sweet i was just because i wasn't confrontational or rude like they wrongly expected me to be?

that's why they're called microaggressions. it's not a cross on your lawn or having the n-word spat in your face, but it cuts you down little by little until you're completely drained.

so that's the nuance. that's the subversion. the overcompensation is not a good thing. and people of color (and i suspect, even white people) have picked up on, in general, the different ways fandom treats sam and dani and even nate. what all of these discussions are converging on is fandom racism, which is not the diet form of racism, but another place for racism to reveal itself. and yeah, it's uncomfortable. it can seem out of left field. you may want to defend yourself. you may want to explain it away. but let me tap the sign on the proverbial bus:

if you are a white person, or a person of color who is not part of that racial group, even, you do not get to decide what is not racist for someone. full stop. there are no exceptions. there is no exit clause for you. there is no 'but, actually-'. that right wasn't even yours to cede or waive.

(it's also important to note that people of color also have the right to disagree on whether something is racist, but that doesn't necessarily negate the racism - it just means there's more to discuss and they can still leave with different interpretations)

people don't just whip out accusations of racism like a blue eyes white dragon in a yu-gi-oh duel. it's not fun for us. it's not something we like to do to muzzle people we don't want to engage with. and we're not concerned with making someone feel bad or ashamed. we're exposing something painful that we have to live with and, even worse, process literally everything we experience through. we can't turn it off. we can't be 'less sensitive' or 'less nitpicky'. we are literally the primary resources, we are the proverbial wikipedia articles with 3,000 sources when it comes to racism. who else would know more than us?

what 2020 has shown us very clearly is that racism is systemic. it's not always a bunch of Evil White Men rubbing their hands together in a dark room wondering how they're going to use the 'n-word' today. it's systemic. it's the way you call that one neighborhood 'sketchy'. it's how you use 'ratchet' and 'ghetto' when describing something bad. it's how you implicitly the assume the intelligence of your friend of color. it's the way you turned up your nose and your friend's food and bullied them for it in middle school but go to restaurants run by white people who have 'uplifted' it with inauthentic ingredients. it's telling someone how Well Spoken and Eloquent they are even though you've both gone to the same schools and work at the same workplace. it's the way you look down at some people of color for having a different body type than you because they've been redlined to neighborhoods where certain foods and resources are inaccessible, and yet mock up the racial features that appeal to you either through makeup or plastic surgery.

it's how when a person of color behaves badly, they're irredeemable, but a white person performing the same act or something similar is 'having a bad day' or 'isn't normally like this' or 'has room to grow' and we can't 'wait for their redemption arc', and yes, i'm not going to cover it in detail in this post but yes this is very much about nate. other people have also brought up the nuances in his arc and compared them to other white characters so i won't do it here.

these behaviors and reactions aren't planned. they aren't orchestrated. they're quite literally unconscious because they've been lovingly baked into western society for centuries. you can't wake up and be rid of it. whether you intended it or not, it can still be racist.

and it's actually quite hurtful and unfair to imply that concerns about racism in the TL fandom are unfounded or lacking any depth or simply meant to be sensational because you simply don't agree with it. i wish it was different, but it doesn't work that way. i'm not raising this up to 'call out' or shame people, but i'm adding to this discussion because, through how we talk about sam, and even dani and nate, i'm yet again seeing a pattern that has shortchanged people of color and made them feel unwelcome in fandom for far too long.

coach beard said it best: we need to do better.

#ted lasso #sam obisanya #ted lasso spoilers #fandom racism

[deceitful-darlings]

For the narnia AU: Mc got pregnant, escaped to her world and locked the closet in the room it’s in. Then she gives birth to a pair of twins, the boy looks like her in everything but the sharp teeth and two colored eyes with a very vibrant personality like his uncle and the girl is a practical clone of her father, in appearance and in personality. But they both adore their mom and are generally good kids, so MC doesn’t worry much, except when they talk about a lake monster who they call uncle floyd teaching them swimming tricks, but that’s probably just them making things up

one day when the twins are like ten, they find the closet room, pick the lock and go inside the room and enter narnia and oops, looks like they both have woken up their cryo magic and start a huge snowball fight with ice forts, because that’s what kids do. Then a certain ice witch eel shows up and sees them and realize that he owes someone child support and he thinks he knows who, he just has to meet his kids first and did one of them just call him floyd....

It was hard enough finding out she was pregnant, but to realise it was twins? Escaping was a task in itself, but she can tell everyone is looking at her differently after she returned which although expected wasn’t particularly welcome. But despite the judgement of some of them, a large majority rally around to help you probably believing the father had simply abandoned you. You can’t bring yourself to consider getting rid of them, it’s not their fault, you have the means and the support to raise them properly, you’re going to be a mother and you’re not changing your mind.

The pregnancy isn’t an easy one, carrying twins definitely takes its toll on your energy levels and mobility, it’s not pleasant time as the month’s tick by. But it comes to its end, your waters eventually break and you’re rushed down to the local hospital by your kind neighbor, and after 11 pain filled hours Kaia and Finn are welcomed into the world. You try not to think about their father, but it’s hard not to when you’re nursing them with their sharp teeth, their mismatched eyes, even though they’re so young they still resemble him...

But it doesn’t matter, you resolve to raise them as you would any child, with love, care, affection, comfort, and discipline. Luckily for you, the village is there to help every step of the way. With such a close knit community they become an extended family to the three of you, taking them out for the day when you need to get things done, babysitting when you need a moment to yourself, letting you off work to go and pick them up from school and then letting them play in the back of the store until your shift ended if people were busy, there was really no way you could thank everyone enough for their help.

As they grow, the questions don’t stop, not mean or accusatory, just curiosity, about the twins’ features, their origins, and they start asking too, they wanted to know why they were so different to their peers. Whenever they ask about their father you always tell them that he isn’t around anymore, which isn’t technically a lie considering the fact he was in a different world that you had locked away behind both the wardrobe doors and the room itself and hadn’t opened since. They sometimes try to push it but you never go any further.

Kaia from a young age had been a mature girl, in a rather unnerving way she was exactly like her father. When you lied to her it felt as if she was able to see right through you and you couldn’t deny is brought a cold sweat to your brow, whereas Finn was more.....energetic. He didn’t seem to mean harm, but he was fairly strong in comparison to kids his age, probably to do with his mixed blood, but you’d been called to the school a number of times because he’d accidentally broken things, and he even hurt another student once. He was extremely upset about it and very apologetic, but at that point you decided to put him in sports clubs to try and help burn off some of his energy.

Both he and Kaia gravitated towards the swimming club, it soon seemed to become the best part of their day for them. At age 9 you begin to trust them to walk the 10 minute journey home from the school and let themselves into the house since they weren’t fond on hanging out at the shops anymore, but with the very strict rule that they had to phone the moment they got indoors and that you expected them to be home by 3:20pm latest,

They do as you say for a little while, but they get bored easily even at home. So one day, they decide to phone you as agreed but on the way home as opposed to on arrival. They know you won’t be home for another hour to an hour and a half, and they decide to visit the lake that they’ve visited with friends before instead to get in some swimming practice but to be home in time to wash up and look like they’ve been there the whole time, they don’t want to make you worry after all.

It doesn’t take long for the lake to become their favourite place, you aren’t sure how they came across it but you aren’t going to question it and let them go as long as they keep in touch. They both always seem so animated and happy when they come back from their trips that you can’t bring yourself to question them...even when you hear parts of their conversations talking about ‘Uncle Floyd’ who lives in the lake who looks just like them and teaches them how to swim better...maybe they’re going through their imaginary friend phase a little late? Maybe you should’ve.

Uncle Floyd always had interesting and fun stories to tell, and he listened when they had things to complain or talk about even if his suggestions were a bit...violent. And one day they get on to talking out the mysterious locked room in their house that you wouldn’t even talk about and remained locked, that it had been for their whole lives. Floyd’s face stretches into a grin and he says something that they never really considered.

“Oya? Why not just break in then?”

Most of what Floyd said the two were able to brush off quite easily as just him being their eccentric uncle, but for some reason that stayed with them. I mean...what harm would looking do? A few online tutorials and videos later, and Finn is at the door with makeshift tools in hand. The old lock gives him a little trouble, but it does eventually click open, and to the childrens’ surprise and disappointment the only thing in the dustyroom is giant wardrobe covered in a sheet.

It doesn’t make any sense. Why would you always clam up when they mentioned this room, all that was in here was a stupid wardrobe! Off the sheet is torn and the doors are flung open with the expectation of their being some kind of treasure inside that you were keeping to yourself, only for their eyes to fall on the back of the wardrobe. Or the lack of the back. It’s surreal, but they hadn’t seen huge amounts of snow before, definitely not anything this! It’s white as far as the eye can see! It just feels so nice being here, they’ll just play here for a little while before they go back and put the room back to normal, you won’t even realise they’ve touched it! They don’t notice the ice forming over the snow just surrounding their feet or hands as they play. It’s only interrupted by the sound of crunching footsteps in the snow, and their expressions light up.

“Uncle Floyd!” But he blinks in suprise at their exclamation.

“I’m sorry children, but my name isn’t Floyd. I’m Jade, and you two are?”

“Eh? You’re not Uncle Floyd?! But you look just like him- OW!”

“He asked us a question.” Giving her brother a firm glare, Kaia looks back towards Jade.”I’m sorry about him. My name is Kaia, and this is my brother Finn.”

“Shouldn’t you both be with your parents?”

“Mom is at work right now, she won’t be back for a little bit and we just have to go back there.” Seeing Finn point back towards the lamppost, Jade knows there’s only one more question he needs to ask.

“And what about your father?” At his question, Finn shrugged.

“We dunno.”

“Mom never talks about him.”

And with those two affirmations it all makes sense. The strange power he could feel from these two that was so like his own, the similarities in their looks, their ages that looked to be around the right age to coincide with your pregnancy when you escaped. To think you had taken not just one, but two of his children from him for so long.

“It’s cold out here today, how would you both like to come back to my castle for a little while. Just to warm up before you see your mother again.”

“I’m not sure about that, we should probably head home now.” But just as they turn to head back towards the border, he places a hand on both of their shoulders.

“Leaving already? Wouldn’t you spare you father a few minutes? I promise you both that your mother will be joining us very soon.”

#yandere #yandere male #sfw #narnia au #jade leech #disney twisted wonderland #twst #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #anon ideas

[theshelbyclan]

Not Alone

Summary: You’ve just gone through a very difficult breakup and feel lonelier than ever. But with the help of Ada’s wise words and some family traditions, you start feeling just a little better

A/N: A sweet anon requested: hi luv!! can you maybe do a bit of the brothers or maybe ada helping the shelby sis after a very hard breakup? i'd kinda appreciate the words right now 🥺🤍 Hope this helps you in any way and if it did happen to you, much love from me also! Also, I am in no way an psychologist or an expert on what to in break-ups, because they simply suck, but I tried to do the best I can. I hope you like it

Words: 2328 *** “What’s with Y/N?” John asked out of the blue over dinner. Arthur looked up, mouth filled with potatoes, “What? Why?” “She doesn’t eat,” commented the brother who never ate himself. 

So Aunt Polly fixed him with a glare, “Must be a family thing…” “She never even touched her pie,” John continued, “She always eats pie.” “Finn?” Tommy asked, “Tell us what’s wrong with her, eh?” The youngest brother evaded his family’s looks and mumbled something along the lines of, “Why are you asking me?” “You know everything that goes on with Y/N,” Polly now shifted to the other brother and said in her characteristically low voice, “Spill.” “Remember that boy from down the road?” Finn started carefully. “There are lots of boys down the road…” “You mean the Irish kid, blonde, tall, went to school with Y/N?” Polly caught on quicker. 

Finn hesitated, “Yeah… well, Y/N’s been kind of seeing him?” “Arthur, John, you kill the Irish kid,” Tommy was already standing up, “I’ll deal with Y/N.” “Sit down, Tommy,” Ada sighed, “Finn isn’t finished yet, is he?” “How the bloody hell would you know?” Arthur questioned. “Because seeing an Irish kid won’t make Y/N go off her food,” their sister explained, “But breaking upwith an Irish kid will, right, Finn?” “Right…” Tommy sank back down into his chair and sighed deeply. “Should we still kill the Irish kid, Tommy?” John asked innocently. “Hang on, John boy,” his eldest brother stopped him, “I’m the oldest. I should talk to Y/N first.” “You really shouldn’t…” Polly mumbled. And when Arthur got up, nervous but certain at the same time, Ada quickly pushed him back down in his chair again. With this, a certain sibling rivalry awoke in the Shelby household. With Ada up the stairs, the brothers quickly followed and even Finn was hot on their tails. All except Polly, who knew none of this would actually help. And while you’d locked yourself in your room, planning to spend the evening on your own and feeling particularly sorry for yourself, the bursting in of five siblings didn’t exactly help. “Fucking hell,” Arthur said, as soon as he saw your tear-streaked face, his nostrils flaring in sudden rage. John looked more helpless than ever, mumbling, “Why are you crying over that bastard…” Tommy stayed back and lit a cigarette in de doorway. But Finn looked from you to Tommy and his face was getting redder by the second, until he finally hissed, “Can I do it now, Tommy?” “Go,” his brother gave him permission, “but take Isiah.” Only Ada responded directly to you, as she sat down next to you on the bed and pulled you into a warm embrace, “What’s happened, sweetheart, you can tell us, eh?” “He left me…” you mumbled into her hair. “That’s it, I’m going to bloody shoot his balls off!” “Arthur, calm down, Finn is taking care of it,” Tommy soothed, but it didn’t comfort you at all. Ada looked at her unhelpful brothers full of scorn and almost shouted, “Well, is anyone going to add something that might actually help Y/N? Because if not, kindly get the fuck out!” “What can we do?” John asked gently. But you just shrugged, still locked into Ada’s arms.

“Well, you’re the fucking oldest, right? Go on!” John urged Arthur on.

So Arthur started, with all the best intentions in the world, which was the only thing that could calm him in this very moment, “The thing is, we human beings are made up of different things…”

You send a look of uncertainty across the room towards Tommy, who returned your gesture with one lifted eyebrow that said: yeah, I have no idea either.

“Like, when we lose someone, it’s like your head, it’s out of balance. So you need to balance it out again.”

“Arthur,” John asked bluntly, “What the fuck are you on about?”

“Like when John here lost Martha! He had to learn to live without her and it took him a lot of time, also because he has fifty kids, but mainly because he had to balance his head out again. And that takes time!” Arthur got more enthusiastic in his speech with each sentence, “It’s a chemical thing, like… like with cocaine!”

“Cocaine?” you repeated, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, cocaine,” he looked nervously around the room filled with incredulous faces, “Cocaine brings you up, while whiskey brings you down, right? You need both. You understand? You need to find the balance.”

“Are you suggesting our baby sister does cocaine?” a harsh voice suddenly asked.

“No!” Arthur called out, “Fucking hell… I’m just saying, accept that it takes time, because the chemicals in your body need time to adjust and that takes a while…”

Deep down, you knew Arthur meant well. Hell, he even had a point in a way, but he wasn’t great at getting his point across.

So John tried, “When Martha died, I did grieve. And I had to rethink life without her, you know? And especially with four, that’s four, kids. It was like I had lost a part of me.”

“So how did you do it, John?” you asked, looking up at your brother.

“Honestly, I was drunk all the time.”

Tommy rolled his eyes almost audibly and sucked on his cigarette in the doorway.

So you fixed him with a stare, “What about you, Tommy? Any brilliant advice from you?”

“Nope,” he simply said.

And a sudden anger flared up in you, “None at all. So, you don’t even care, do you?”

Tommy stared at you for a few moments and then he turned to John, “Go out to the fields near the Black Patch, where the vardo is. Get a fire going. I’ll be there in an hour. Go on, John!”

Being emotional in front of your brothers was one thing, but feeling like they were ignoring you made everything even worse. As you felt the tears welling up again, you got so annoyed and mad at yourself that you needed to take the anger out on someone. So you turned to Thomas again, but before you could open your mouth, he’d turned around already and was making his way out the room.

Completely defeated, you slumped on your bed and seriously considered throwing yourself out the window.

“How do you feel,” a softer female voice asked and you realised you weren’t actually on your own.

So you frowned and tried to explain, “You know that feeling when you drop a glass of water and within seconds it splashes and then just…disappears?”

“Yeah,” Ada said gently.

“That’s how I feel.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Tell them?” you scoffed, “Well, you just saw how well they handled it…”

Ada nodded for a second, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know how to,” you shook your head, “I have no idea what to do with myself now.”

So Ada sighed, lit a cigarette and gave it to you, “You’re not going to do anything, except listen to me now, alright?”

And you nodded meekly as your sister spoke.

“Polly is going to tell you this: fuck men. And in a way she’s right, but in others she isn’t. Men are a common nuisance and we would have no need for them if we didn’t like them so much, did we? In fact, I’m guessing you might even love this one?” Full of sisterly concern she stared at you.

As your head fell down and you started crying again, a loud bang sounded and John barged into the room once again.

“Oh shit, sorry Ada… Uhm…” he stood there, cap in hand and having no idea how to hold himself, “I just wanted to quickly give… Y/N, thought you might need this?”

Ada took the bottle of whiskey John had brought from his hands and started opening it up at once. Then she looked at her brother and demanded, “Don’t you have a fire to get to?”

Clumsily, he left the room quickly.

“They try,” your sister waved a disinterested hand.

And finally you spoke words that had burned in your throat for the last couple of hours now, “I did love him.”

“And that’s okay!” Ada urged, while rubbing you back softly, “That’s what happens and it’s fine. Don’t let anyone tell you you’re not allowed to love someone or that you should be strong and independent all the time. You’re allowed to love and you’re even allowed to need someone, just like you’re allowed to grieve right now,” she opened the bottle and traded it with you for the cigarette, “and if you ever tell him I said this I’ll deny every word of it, but Arthur was right: it is a little like grieving over the death of someone. It fucking hurts, but it has to be done.”

“Okay, so what the fuck do I do now?”

“Well… you cry, which you’ve already done, good for you,” your practical sister continued, “Then you plan his funeral, which should be easy because I’m guessing Tommy is arranging that as we speak.”

You had to laugh; you couldn’t help yourself, even through the tears.

And Ada called out, “That’s it! And then you laugh.”

“So that’s today covered,” your smile faded a little, “What about tomorrow and the day after that?”

She took a large swig from the bottle and spoke while choking on it slightly, “Sweetheart, if I had all the answers I wouldn’t be a single mother right now, but it’s about learning to live with yourself. It’s about being alone and suddenly realising you’re no longer lonely.”

“Why though?” you almost whined, “What if I don’t want to be lonely? Maybe I could still get him back? We weren’t that bad…”

“Yes, you were.”

“Yes, we were,” you admitted, taking the bottle from her.

“Listen,” Ada took your hands in hers and locked eyes with you, “You deserve better. This doesn’t help you at all right now, but maybe it will in a few weeks time. You deserve a man who loves you, adores you and worships the ground you walk on, and at the very least you fucking deserve a man who stays. Now, you may not understand now, but a few weeks from now, you will love yourself again. It will all make sense then. Right now you need to let go and you need some distraction.”

“What if I want to be on my own?”

“To do what? Cry?” Ada could be horribly blunt.

So you frowned full of irritation, “Well, maybe I do.”

“You already did that. You need to be with someone you love. Doesn’t have to be me, but don’t go wallowing on your own too much. It doesn’t help.”

“Right, okay…”

So the two of you sat in silence for a long, drinking the whiskey and smoking. And while you didn’t speak, it was good. You’d always been a child that was drawn more to her brothers than her only sister, but right now, the sister proved invaluable. For the first time, it was like you felt the ground beneath your feet again. That solid feeling of family always there kept you sane and it made you just a little bit less lonely.

And then, just like that, Tommy was back. With a painfully direct way, very similar to Ada’s, he announced, “It’s ready. Come on.”

“What is?”

“Just bring his stuff,” Tommy said quickly, “whatever he gave you, and come with me.” He was already out the door when he called from the hallway, “And bring Ada too!”

So after a lot of complaining and ranting about brothers, the two of you left the stuffy bedroom and followed Thomas out the door. He hoisted the both of you in his car and drove out into the fields, above which the sun had already started to set.

Finally, he brought you to the fire, and explained, “We gypsies are used to a lot of pain, but we’re no good with it. It’s a bit like the darkness; we live in it, but it’s where the trouble is too. So, we light fires.”

“How’s the fire going to help?” you asked sarcastically.

“It’s not,” he said, “But sitting here with us might. You used to sleep outside whenever you felt trapped, thought maybe we could do it again.”

You nodded slowly. This didn’t sound like a bad plan at all, actually.

“What about his stuff?” you questioned, “You told me to bring it.”

“If you want, burn it. If not, keep it. For now.”

So you sat down by the fire and it awoke something old inside of you: something you had missed intensely.

“So is this the gypsy cure?” you asked Tommy, a small smirk playing about your lips.

“You can ask John in a minute. It’s what he did, after Martha.”

And suddenly you remembered, “That’s why he left for five days.”

“Am I expected to sleep here as well, out on the grass, all wet and dirty?” Ada asked sharply.

Tommy pointed at his older sister playfully, “Yes. Y/N gets to choose. You however do not. You’ve forgotten where you’re from, Ada.”

“I fucking haven’t,” she protested, “I remember these fields. We used to come here with mum, after the fairs.”

Your other three brothers joined you one by one and like second nature, they huddled around the fire and you weren’t sure if it was the fire or them that kept you warm. Until well into the night, they brought up stories about traveling, family and horses. You hardly spoke, but it was good to listen.

At one point you did whisper, “Maybe you were right, Tommy. Maybe this is the gypsy cure…”

“There’s no cure sweetheart, just patience. But you won’t be alone.”

“No?’ you asked vaguely.

“We’re here,” Arthur said.

“We’re your family,” John added quickly.

And Ada pulled you close to her once again, saying, “And we’re never leaving you.”

***

Masterlist

#peaky blinder imagine #sister shelby imagine #shelby sister imagine #sister!shelby #shelby!sister #shelby sis #ada shelby #ada thorne #ada shelby x reader #thomas shelby #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fluff #peaky blinders headcanon #thomas shelby x reader #not alone #breakup #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #john shelby #finn shelby #arthur shelby

[lemon-boy-stan]

end scene - finn wolfhard x reader

The reader is filming a deleted scene which sparks trauma. Warnings: SUPER ANGSTY LIKE SERIOUSLY, crying finn, mentions of death, mentions of sex (at the end), abuse, mentions of alcohol and swearing. And also long paragraphs. Lower case.

finn was the only person who knew about your trauma and cared - your mother had a boyfriend and moved on.

the car crash was your burden and catalyst to your inconsistent episodes which was why, every time you rehearsed the scene with him, finn made sure you were okay and that you knew he didn't mean it.

millie was good at being dead. she'd lay there, under the rubble, not moving a limb - she looked so lifeless like that that you were positive a passer-by would rush over to help her.

except there were no passer-bys, just you, your boyfriend, cast and crew and the CGI.

but yet it still looked so real - and it reminded you of her that much - of the car, the crash, the rubble, debris, anger that left your father's mouth afterwards, the deafening silence of your mother who stood and watched in the hospital...

mentally, you forced yourself to shake it off. the memory had obviously tuned the other cast members out.

"it wasn't her fault!" noah screeched - finn appeared to be approaching you, a look of mad and sadness in his eyes (which did not seem to be for you but hurt you anyway) kindling dangerously.

"we can still save her," he turned back from you to her "dead" body, "we can still save her! nancy! nancy. do you know cpr? does anyone know cpr? steve? johnathan? even you, billy?"

"even you?!" sadie shrieked. darce shot her a look and shook his head as if billy was telling her to pick her battles.

"anyone?" finn talked over her. "please. someone help me! she can't die here. she won't die here! i won't let it!" his words and voice were exactly the same as every other time you rehearsed it alone.

you continued to stare at the nothingness that wavered around him as natalia and everyone else remained quiet.

finn darted to you with the corner of his eye before recovering again, "we can still save her!" the rest of the cast waited.

'we can't', mouthed charlie, you'd forgotten your line by a beat. SHIT. finn frowned - something was fishy.

"we can't," you said softly, quickly. finn exhaled invisibly and silently. "f - mike. mike, el said - she told me - she said she was sorry and she said she - "

he cut you off just like every other time, "what good," he began, breathing through his nose, "is an apology," silence, the rest of the cast who were watching liked it, "if she's dead?! please! someone help me!"

no one helped him.

"come on," he begged the world, "come on. el. el. wake up. wake up. wake up!" he shook millie's body as if shaking a dead person would wake them up, kind of like how your father shook your sister in the hospital bed even though the nurse said that shaking her would make things worse.

"el," he choked back, "no. el. el." the fake tears hurt you more than they normally would have.

finn was your boyfriend and you could normally tell the difference between his fake and real emotions and for some reason you couldn't today.

after finn finished crying, he stroked her lifeless hair just like every other time and just like the time your father stroked your sister's before he turned to you.

"YOU were supposed to save HER," he spat the words viciously like every other time, eyes flicking over you with assurance. "but SHE saved YOU! she wasn't supposed to save YOU! you were supposed to die, you were supposed to die! the mindflayer was supposed to get YOU but it got HER! you're not even sorry! none of you are sorry! because if you were sorry, YOU would be DEAD and SHE would be ALIVE!"

you couldn't tell at the time but the words hurt him, too.

"it doesn't work like that!" noah screeched. "she was here first, anyways! she's my sister! eleven understood that so why can't you, mike?!"

"i told you to come up with another plan," he hissed at you, ignoring noah, "but you didn't! you let her die! you let her die, belle! you're a bitch and you let her die!" he yelled over noah.

"i'm sorry," you whispered, to which gaten and the rest of the cast wore a look of amazement - you hated improvising.

finn frowned slightly before going along.

"you're not. fucking. sorry. do you know why?" he waited.

"mike," natalia cut in.

"BECAUSE YOU WOULD BE DEAD! YOU STUPID BITCH, YOU WOULD BE DEAD! BUT YOU KILLED HER!"

"no, she didn't! don't call her that!"

that was the first - and last - time finn had ever called you that or yelled at you. you froze.

"i'm sorry," your lip shook - you didn't have a line just then but the crew liked it. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry,"

"it's your fault she's dead, y/n! you stupid bitch! you killed her! you killed your sister! do you know why you killed her? because you're a mistake! and a murderer! you fucking killed her, you stupid bitch! you can't do anything right, can you, you fucking brat? i saw you yelling at her! 'hurry up, izzy, i'm going to be late!' i told you not to go, didn't i? i told you she can't fucking drive in the fucking rain because she's bipolar and fucking crazy! but you're a brat, y/n, and it's going to be the end of you and everyone around you and even that finn boy, i don't give a fuck how much fucking money he has because you're going to blow him up too like the bomb you are! i don't give a shit how many fucking fans you have, do you hear me? because you. blew. her. UP!"

the nurses stared.

one turned to your mother in her stupid ninties pink dress and pearl necklace as if to say, 'aren't you going to do anything?' but she didn't, she pretended as if everything was fine.

"i'm sorry," you bit back the tears. "i'm sorry,"

"you aren't sorry! because she's dead! you aren't sorry! you're just a bomb!"

you bit your cheek harshly - no one else besides finn noticed.

"i'm sorry," your voice shook, "i'm sorry i killed her i'm sorry i'm sorry please don't - please i'm sorry,"

the crew started giving you looks - knock it off, it was starting to get weird and they didn't want the audience to hate your character.

but you couldn't help it. you didn't want him to hit you and you didn't want the people in the hospital to stare.

but you weren't in the hospital, you were on set, and he wasn't with you, it was finn, but same difference.

because maybe if you said sorry more maybe finn wouldn't unlove you like he did, maybe finn wouldn't hit you like he did.

"i'm sorry it's my fault i'm sorry i'm sorry,"

finn's breath hitched and his adam's apple moved before something washed over him - recognition.

you see, the endless trails of apologies had happened once at his house at night.

"wait!"

gaten threw his arms up at the outburst and the rest of the cast looked dissappointed. this scene was such a good trope for the love triangle between mike el and belle.

"wait - just - just cut. please. she's not acting, i swear this has happened before and i can help her please," he was begging now and the crew sighed and grumbled - everyone was human.

"alright, that's a wrap, we'll film again in a half," they began to leave.

"i'm sorry finn i'm sorry i kill - "

"baby, stop," he put his hands on your shoulders but you just shook your head and kept saying the words anyways, "baby! you don't have to apologise for anything, baby, you didn't kill anyone,"

"but i did kill her, finn!" you sobbed, "i killed her. "i killed my sister because i'm a stupid bitch and a brat who made her sister drive her to her friend's house in the rain," you bit your cheek until there was blood,

"i'm a mistake, finn, i'm sorry i'm a fucking bitch, and i'm sorry i killed them. just please, please don't unlove me, please, everyone who's loved me's unloved me, please i swear i'll do litera - "

"baby, what?" he looked like a puppy who'd just been told off, "why would i unlove you?"

"because i can't do anything right," you shook your head, "and you have to unlove me even though i don't want you to, finn, because i'm a mistake and i'm a fucking bomb, and a bitch. but please, please, i'm sorry, i can't - i can't lose someone else - "

"you're never going to lose me, baby," he whispered. he was shaking, "and you're not a bomb. oh, fuck, the last thing you are is a bomb, y/n. this isn't bullshit. i love you too much to give you bullshit. if he told you that, let me tell you this: you. are. not. a. bomb, baby. you're mine, the farthest thing you are is a bomb, you're a band aid, and a lifeline. you're never going to lose me, i promise i promise."

"but finn," you said, "don't you get it? i'm not a band aid or a lifeline, i'm a bomb. i will blow you up if you don't leave me before you can even though i don't want you to leave me because you're the only person- "

"and i'll keep being the only person," he talked over you and it frustrated you to even more tears, "i don't care if you blow me up. heck, you blew me away the first time. besides, so what if you're a murderer (which you aren't baby it was a fucking accident and he needs to get that through his fucking skull)? i hate myself for bringing up the stupid movie you love y/n but i don't give two shits what he says you've done because a) i know he's a drunk bastard and b) i will always love you baby more than rose loves leo baby i'll always come back to you, always, i'm going to marry you when my parents let me get married and i'm going to always come back to you even if you yell at me to get out because you're my fucking bomb, do you hear me? you're mine and you're a bomb. so what? you're a good bomb."

"please don't unlove me,"

"baby i'll never unlove you ever ever,"

"promise?"

"yes baby i promise y/n i promise just please tell me you're okay and tell me when you're not okay because it kills me baby it kills me so much,"

"okay finn," you mumbled; you didn't want him to cry anymore, "i promise. i'm sorry for ruining the scene," you looked down at your hands.

"hey," he said firmly, lifting your chin up so you were forced to look at him, "scenes can be re-filmed but i'm going to ask them to film a different one okay? but for now please just tell me you're okay baby,"

"i'm okay finn," you sighed. "sorry you had to put up with that and sorry i made you feel shit,"

"you know you make me feel lots of things n/n," he whispered, "and shit is one of them. and i wouldn't have anyone else make me feel anything else, 'cause i love you. even if you blow me up i love you okay? even if you crash me i'll still love you from hell 'cause we all know that's where i'm going..."

"are you talking about the other night?" you looked up, "because the feeling was totally mutual finn we both wanted it you know that don't be a dick,"

"there she is. also, yeah, that night and that time noah walked in on us jesus," he smiled and hugged your neck, "okay, okay, i love you though y/n. god you have no idea how much i love you..."

"i think i do," you replied softly and he smiled into you.

So this is super long but oh god guys I'm still in love with it ahh...

MASTERLIST - requests are ALWAYS open (depending on what fandom it is!)

#finn wolfhard #finn wolfhard gif #finn wolfhard angst #finn wolfhard x reader #finn wolfhard x reader sad #finn wolfhard x reader abused #finn wolfhard x abused reader #finn wolfhard x reader angst #finn wolfhard angst imagine #sad finn wolffhard imagine #richie tozier angst #mike wheeler angst #stranger things #boris pavlikovsky imagine #miles fairchild angst #finn wolfhard x reader anxiety attack

[megalony]

Teacher’s pet- Part 20

So I have about two more parts planned for this Ben Hardy series but I am going to be doing a follow-on series because I love this story and still feel I have more to write for it. I hope you will all like this part, feedback is always lovely to hear.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie​ @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr​ @rogermeddow​ @radiob-l-a-hblah​ @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6​ @rogertaylors-lipgloss​ @sj-thefan​ @omgitsearly​ @luckytrashgooprebel​ @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac​ @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @rogahs-drowse @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh

Series taglist: @im-an-adult-ish​ @gwilymleeisbae​ @k-k0129​ @haileymorelikestupid​ @glittrixvibe @youngpastafanmug​ @ultraviolencezs @kdatthecastle @darlindolan​

Series masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) teaches at the school Ben’s boys go to and they soon start a relationship. But they have their ups and downs with the problems Ben faces with his boys and how quickly the relationship progresses.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I'm gonna go and see our baby girl now, they said I can finally hold her today."

Ben's fingers slowly and methodically carded through (Y/n)'s hair, moving the strands into waves and brushing them from her face as he talked quietly in a soft voice. He didn't know if (Y/n) could hear him or not, she was sedated but he knew that some people in comas could still hear voices around them so he hoped that even though (Y/n) was asleep, she could hear his voice.

He had spent most of the morning here with (Y/n), holding her hand, brushing his fingers over her skin to try and show her he was still here and talking to her in case she was listening. But now he had to go and see their daughter before he went home to the boys.

Every time he left (Y/n) here he felt guilty and in pain because something could happen when he left and he didn't want anything to happen when he wasn't here. And if felt awful to leave (Y/n) here on her own and he didn't like being apart from her, but he had to go and be with the boys until everything settled and he could bring (Y/n) home.

"I'll be back tomorrow, baby." He pressed his lips to the top of her head, tangling his fingers in her hair as he was desperate not to let her go.

It hurt that Ben couldn't wrap his arms around (Y/n) or kiss her or even talk to her. He wanted to take her home and have everything be as it should. Ben wanted (Y/n) in his arms, he wanted her and his daughter in his arms in a hug and he wanted the boys at home with them and for them to be the family they should be. He didn't want (Y/n) to be ill and in pain and their girl to be stuck in an incubator without her family surrounding her every hour of every day.

The moment Ben got out of the room he just wanted to turn back around and go lay with (Y/n) but he knew if he did that then he wouldn't leave.

"Ben, how is she today?"

He didn't get more than two feet away from (Y/n)'s room before his eyes suddenly locked on her mother heading towards him.

The first time Ben had met Alicia was worrying for him since he had met her only a month before he and (Y/n) found out they were going to have a baby. He had no idea how she would react to her daughter being in a relationship with someone who already had three children of his own, he knew it wasn't the best kind of image or the best situation her parents would want for her. But he had been more than surprised when her parents had taken to him straight away and Alicia was very welcoming to the boys, she was practically another grandmother to them already.

It crushed Ben more than anything when he had to ring (Y/n)'s parents and explain that (Y/n) had suddenly taken a turn for the worst after he had told them she was recovering well the night before.

And it was too hard for Ben to stay with (Y/n) when her parents came to visit her. They came every day like Ben did but he made sure they had time alone with (Y/n) or else he didn't know what to say, where to sit or how to act. All he wanted to do was sit beside (Y/n) and hold her hand and suddenly make her better but he didn't feel comfortable when her parents were in the room. He couldn't cry in front of them either.

Ben was engulfed in a rather comforting but still crushing hug the moment Alicia was in front of him.

(Y/n) always told Ben that he had charmed her mother almost like he had charmed (Y/n) herself. His smile won Alicia over and his nature and just generally how he was made Alicia accept him into their family straight away.

"They're keeping her sedated, she got too distressed when she was awake with the ventilator and she's still on a lot of antibiotics... but the doctor said her heart isn't affected, so that's good." Ben scratched at the short hairs at the back of his head before he rubbed his hands over his face, trying to wake himself up a bit more.

When (Y/n) had woken up early in the morning, they had to sedate her because it was distressing for her to try and move and realise that she couldn't breathe. Feeling a tube stuck down her throat was too much for her, especially when it made her focus on her lack of breathing and she couldn't communicate without panicking. It was kinder and safer to keep her in a sleeping state, at least until she started to recover.

But the sepsis was still attacking her system and her lungs weren't working on their own. The antibiotics were treating the infection (Y/n) had gotten after labour but they couldn't control the sepsis. The only good news they had right now was that (Y/n)'s heart was still strong and wasn't effected by sepsis because if that happened, her chances would be next to none.

"Well s-she needs the rest... how's the little one doing?"

It was clear that Alicia was about ready to burst into tears but she was doing her best to push the tears back and keep her voice under control. (Y/n) was her only child, she had no other kids so (Y/n) had been her world and Alicia didn't have much other family other than her husband and her sister. If she lost (Y/n) she wouldn't have anyone around her except for Ben and her granddaughter and the boys.

Alicia had been to see her granddaughter along with (Y/n)'s dad, Jeremy, they visited the baby every day they visited (Y/n).

"They're letting me hold her today, I just can't do the birth certificate yet... (Y/n)'s supposed to be picking her name."

Ben could feel a bad headache forming behind his eyes, causing him to rub ferociously at his eyes to try and relieve the feeling. Their girl was four days old now and by this time Ben usually got the birth certificate sorted but he couldn't do that when he didn't have a name for her. He and (Y/n) had three names but they never managed to decide on one before labour happened early. Ben picked the name for all three of his boys and he said he wanted (Y/n) to be the one to pick the name for their daughter but right now she couldn't so he wasn't getting the certificate done until (Y/n) was better.

"There's plenty of time for that. I'll visit her after I sit with (Y/n) for a while, and if you want to stay here with (Y/n) at any point, you just ring me and those three boys can stay with me. You know I think of them as my own."

Alicia rubbed her hand up and down Ben's arm as a silent look of appreciation filled his eyes before they parted ways. He couldn't carry on this conversation without wanting to cry and it was very clear to see, Alicia didn't want to push either of them too far. Ben knew and appreciated that she would look after the boys whenever she could because she thought of them as her own grandkids. But Ben had to be at home with them as well as being here with (Y/n) because the boys were starting to get worried and he couldn't have that.

It was only a short trip from (Y/n)'s room down to the neonatal unit where is girl was and it was a route Ben walked three or four times a day. Switching between seeing (Y/n) and their daughter before he went home and spent the night with the boys before coming back to the hospital as early as he could.

When Ben reached the room that held four other newborns as well as his daughter, he headed straight over to his little girl and where a nurse was doing her routine checks.

"Mr Jones, are you ready to hold baby today?"

Ben nodded his head, finding a smile already on his lips just at the thought of having her in his arms. The moment she had been born she was taken out of the room to be looked after and she'd had a tube down her nose to help her breathe since she inhaled some fluids. But now she just had an IV for some nutrients and a few monitoring clips and stickers to check her vitals.

Doctor Mills had checked up on her yesterday and said she just needed the incubator for another week to make sure her lungs were developed enough to work properly on their own. So Ben could take her home in just over a week.

At least one of his girls was okay.

Ben tried to stop his leg from jittering up and down when he sat down, anxiously waiting for that strange yet intoxicating feeling of holding his baby for the first time.

When he first got to hold Carter, Ben had never felt a wave of emotions like that before. He didn't want to put Carter down, he just wanted to sit and hold him for the rest of his life. Then when he had James it was the same emotions but more intensified, he had another life depending on him and another boy he could cherish and look after. Finn was the smallest of all his boys, he felt like a little baby doll in Ben's arms, the kind he remembered playing with as a kid. Finn was so small and delicate but he had been beautiful.

After Finn, Ben had been sure that he had all his kids. He didn't think he would want or even get the chance to have another child, especially not after things between him and Lucy evolved in the worst possible way.

But here he was now, about to hold his fourth child, his first daughter.

The moment she was placed into his arms, Ben felt a shiver running down his spine and tingling throughout his body. He thought Finn had been his smallest child but his daughter was here, proving him wrong. She was four pounds and three ounces which was definitely underweight considering the average baby was supposed to be around seven pounds.

But she was perfect.

She had a tiny button nose that didn't reflect Ben's bumpy, slightly crooked nose that both Cater and James had inherited from him. Her hands were tiny but formed behind the rose pink mittens stuck on her hands so she didn't scratch her face. Her body fit along the expanse of Ben's lower arm perfectly and the way she curled up in his arm made him grin. She tucked her face into his chest and it tickled when Ben felt her nose brushing against his skin through his shirt.

"Hey, girlie. We don't have a name for you yet, but I'll talk to your mummy about that soon. She's so desperate to come see you when she's better, and the boys are all in love with you already, even Finn says your so pretty. My first girl."

Ben slowly brushed his finger across her cheek, smiling at the way it made her head lean into his touch before it seemed to tickle her. When he brought the boys to see her yesterday, all of them had been in awe of their little sister. Carter looked like he wanted to pick her straight up and cuddle her, James had reached his hand out to take hold of hers. And when Ben picked Finn up so he could see her, the first thing he said was that she was very pretty and sweet even if she was very small. They all seemed to instantly take to the thought of a sister now that she was here with them.

All they needed now was for (Y/n) to get better so she could hold her daughter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Buddy, come on it's past your bed time, you need to try and settle down you have school tomorrow." Ben tried his best to sound sympathetic and understanding but it was hard when he didn't have the patience or the effort left in his system.

It was half past ten, both James and Finn were fast asleep in their room and all Ben needed was for Carter to either settle down or for once, actually fall asleep. They all had school tomorrow and Ben needed to try and calm his own mind down because he had to take them to school then go to the hospital to see (Y/n) and their baby.

Ben had seen this coming. He had seen the state Carter was in after his mum dropped the boys back home, he was anxious and hyper and that was a big sign that he wouldn't settle tonight.

"No, I don't wanna." Carter shook his head with a defying look on his face before he planted himself down on the sofa.

His eyes followed Ben's movements in the same way they normally did when he tried to defy his dad. He didn't look anxious or irritated, he looked blank like he didn't know where he was or what he was doing. Carter watched what Ben did in case his dad was really riled up and to see what he could get away with doing. He watched Ben down the last bit of beer in the dark brown bottle in his hand before he got up and moved to put it in the kitchen.

But the moment Ben came back into the living room, he turned the tv off and looked at Carter expectantly. He knew well enough to know that Ben wouldn't let him sit up and watch tv all night when he had school in the morning. Even if Carter wouldn't be tired if he stayed up all night, it still wasn't good for him and would break his routine of trying to settle for the night.

"Carter, listen to me. I'm tired, okay? I'm knackered, I've been at the hospital every day for the last five days and then I'm coming home to be with you boys. I can't sleep either but I need you to keep your routine, I can't deal with you being unsettled from no routine."

If Carter didn't have a routine it unsettled him because routines helped to calm him down and give him structure. (Y/n) and the baby being away in hospital and Ben running between home and hospital definitely didn't give Carter routine or structure. So Ben had to keep that routine for Carter wherever he could and right now that was keeping him at school, bringing him home and keeping set times for getting up and going to bed.

"No, you just want to deal with mum and not let me see her. I miss her and I can't sleep, I wanna go see mum! I wanna see my mum!"

Carter stomped his foot down on the carpet as he stood to his feet, his height making him just below Ben's shoulder. Carter had trouble sleeping but he was normally fine with laying down and thinking until he fell asleep. But when he was anxious like this all he could think about was what was worrying him and that was (Y/n). He thought about her and how he hadn't seen her in over five days but Ben saw her everyday. He missed her and he was jealous and angered that he couldn't go and see her yet.

"Carter she's ill, I have to be there and make sure she's getting better you know that-"

"I wanna see my mum-"

"I wanna see her too!" The way Ben's voice rose and his words bellowed back at Carter made the eldest boy take a step back. He wasn't expecting Ben to shout at him and he certainly wasn't expecting him to say that.

Ben saw (Y/n) every day so far, he did see her whereas the boys didn't get to, Carter didn't understand what he meant by that.

"Every second I'm away from her I want to go back to her Carter because she's sick! I wanna see her wake up and look at me and talk to me and kiss me and just to hold her. But I can't because every fucking second I'm with your mum, she's asleep because she is so fucking ill she can hardly breathe. I miss her even when I'm sat next to her because it doesn't feel like she's there, do you get that? If I take you to see her you'll get upset and when I go see her I cry so no, you can't go see her and I'm fucking sick of all this shit."

The tears that fell from Ben's swollen, red eyes made Carter start to cry silently because he never saw Ben cry. It was something that hardly ever happened and it showed him just how poorly (Y/n) was and how badly it was hurting Ben.

"I want your mum home with us and I want your sister here too, she's at the hospital all alone until I can go hold her. She's my daughter and I can't look after her like I did when I had you boys and it kills me." Ben's tone softened like slowly melting butter and his voice was quieter when he realised he had scared Carter which he never meant to do.

His daughter was all alone in the hospital without her family and even though she wouldn't understand what family was, Ben knew she would have that maternal and paternal instinct and know who he and (Y/n) were. When Ben had the boys they were all home within two or three days and he was looking after them. But with his one and only girl, she was at the hospital without her family and that cut Ben up into pieces.

"I miss mum."

Those three words were the only ones Carter could think of and could manage to say. And the moment they registered in Ben's ears, he went down on his knees in front of Carter and engulfed him in his arms. It didn't and would never matter to Ben how old any of his children were, he would always want to pick them up in his arms and cuddle them like they were all still toddlers.

He picked Carter up and stood to his feet until the eleven-year-old wrapped his legs around Ben's hips and tucked his head into Ben's neck, breathing in his scent which started to calm him down.

Ben kissed the side of Carter's head, moving one of his hands so he could slowly smooth his fingers over the hair at the back of Carter's head. No words were spoken between the pair as Ben silently headed out of the living room and made his way upstairs to his room. If Carter wasn't going to sleep and Ben didn't think he was either, the best option was for them to stay together and try to settle and calm down. They both needed comforting right now.

Carter stayed clinging to Ben like a monkey even when Ben laid down on the bed with his upper body leaning up against the cushioned headboard. Carter put a bit of strain and weight onto Ben's chest as he laid on his front but it didn't bother Ben, he just wanted to hug his son.

"I... I heard the new teacher talking about mum today." Carter kept his face buried in Ben's neck as he spoke but he was clearly calmer when Ben continued to run his hand through his hair.

"Yeah, what did they say?"

"She told the class that mum had her baby but is poorly so she won't be at work for a few months."

"No, buddy she won't be at work for a few months because when a person has a baby, they get time off to be with their baby. If your mum wasn't sick she still would have time off, she has to look after your sister. She's just in the hospital still because she's poorly."

Carter clearly worried that (Y/n) was going to be in the hospital for months with what he had heard the supply teacher say but that wasn't going to be the case.

"Mum is gonna get better... isn't she?"

"Yes she is, I promise."

#ben hardy #ben x reader #ben hardy imagine #BoRhap #teachers pet #gwilym lee #gwilym imagine #pregnancy

[missscarletta7]

The Broken Crown- Chapter 4

Enjoy chapter 4!

Summary: All Margaret Shelby ever wanted, was the opportunity to write her own story. Only now is she beginning to realize that her brother may have already written it for her...

OoOoOo

"When your dreams all fail,

And the ones we hail, Are the worst of all,

And the blood runs stale"

~Demons~

OoOoOo

1919

Maggie was so excited. She dragged Cara toward the pub the moment their school day was finished.

"Why are we going into the Garrison?" The blonde asked curiously.

"You have to meet the barmaid who works here," Maggie explained.

"I've seen her," Cara informed her. "What's so special about her?"

"We've become good friends." It was true, after such a long period of time had passed without seeing her older sister, Grace inevitably filled the gaping space that Ada had left behind.

"Should I be jealous?" The blonde teased.

Maggie flashed a loving smile, "No one could ever replace you."

When the dark-haired girl opened the pub door, the first thing they heard was Grace's melodic voice singing. "-As I've never loved before..."

Maggie spotted Grace serving drinks to the regular customers. Unfortunately, one of those customers was Ross, who was sitting with a group of men who would hang around the betting shop. Cara was quick to notice him too, her body immediately tensed.

"Since first I saw you on the village green..."

"Sorry Mags, I forgot my mum wanted me to fix stitching on some dresses," This was one of the few times Maggie had ever seen Cara looking embarrassed, "Maybe next time, yeah?"

"Come to me ere my dream of love is o'er..."

The dark-haired girl nodded, not wanting to refute the her friends claim, and watched Cara hurriedly exit through the doors.

"I love you as I loved you when you were sweet..." Maggie moved herself over to the row of empty barstools and took a seat as Grace was finishing her song. "When you were sweet sixteen."

Grace then walked behind the bar while Maggie applauded at the performance. "Hello Maggie," Grace greeted happily, grabbing a dirty pint glass off the bar. "Don't look behind you,but a handsome young man is staring at you."

Maggie felt her stomach turn, responding, "Let's change the subject."

Grace smirked, "How was school?"

"Dull," The girl said truthfully, "Harry out again?"

Grace nodded, "It's been slow."

"What have you been doing today?"

"I had a meeting with the gentleman who will be installing the pub's brand new phone."

"Neat." Maggie beamed at the thought of the new technology.

"Your brother is trying to go legitimate." Grace informed her, "He wants to make this place seem a bit more respectable."

"Which one?" The dark-haired girl asked.

"Arthur." She answered back unenthusiastically, "Though he doesn't seem too interested in fixing anything. I mean, look at the state of these." The barmaid picked up a carton of cigarettes that was ripping apart. "Where do these even come from?" She asked, hoping this question would lead to where the guns may be hidden.

Maggie just shrugged at her question. "How should I know? I think they have a few warehouses in town."

Grace nodded, taking in the information, before noticing a customer beckon her over, "I'll be back." She told the girl.

Maggie sat by herself for a few moments before she felt a presence inch closer to stand beside her. She knew there would be a confrontation at some point, she had done so well in avoiding him. She didn't have a chance to say anything before Ross spoke first, "I had instructions to give this to you."

Reaching into the pocket inside of his coat he pulled out a folded piece of parchment, placing it on the bar he slid it towards her. She was surprised but nevertheless relieved when he said nothing else and walked back to his table. Taking the note, she unfolded it to read the message that was scribbled out. As she read a smile crept onto her face. The message was from Ada.

OoOoOo

In the parlor, Maggie had been writing in her journal when Polly descended the down the stairs. "Put your shoes on," The older woman ordered, "Johns called a family meeting."

Watching Polly walk across the room, Maggie raised her eyebrow, "Thought I wasn't allowed at family meetings."

"John says it's not that kind of a meeting," Polly said, exiting into the tiny kitchen. Maggie happily closed her book and slipped on her black boots which were resting right underneath the old coffee table, before following her aunt into the kitchen.

"Pol?" Maggie asked worriedly when she noticed the woman standing rigidly by the table. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing." Polly said after a moment, "C'mon, we don't want to be late." Polly moved to enter the betting shop with her niece in tow.

"Where's John?" Tommy asked his aunt, agitated his brother was not at his post.

"John's in the Garrison, says he wants a meeting about a family matter," Polly informed him, placing her hat on her head. "After he's said his piece he'll come back and take his place with Scudboat."

Maggie tried to follow her aunt, but was stopped by Tommy's outstretched arm, "Where are you going?"

"To the meeting. John told Polly I could come," Maggie explained to him.

Though Tommy didn't look completely persuaded, Polly called on the large man taking bets. "John will be here in ten minutes"

"Five," Tommy corrected before the family walked out of the shop onto the cobblestone pavement.

"What does John want to talk about?" Tommy asked his aunt.

"Your guess is as good as mine. Always been one for dramatics, our John" Polly replied jokingly causing Maggie to chuckle out.

"You're in a good mood," Tommy noted to the smiling girl as he pulled out a cigarette to smoke.

"I like going to the Garrison," Maggie responded.

"She likes talking to that barmaid." Polly translated her nieces' words.

"You and Grace seem to chat a lot," Tommy spoke, exhaling a breath of smoke.

The girl shrugged. "I like Grace, she likes my writing," quickly adding, "We're friends."

"You trust her enough to share your work," Tommy said, impressed by the sudden growth of his sister. "I'm thinking of asking her to be my secretary," Tommy suddenly informed the ladies.

"Only a secretary?" Maggie asked, raising her eyebrows cheekily.

He flashed her a ghost of a smile, "Never you mind."

"Secretary, eh?" Polly finally spoke up as the Garrison came into their view.

"We're going, legitimate Pol." Tommy reasoned, "What's more legitimate than a secretary? Or maybe I’ll make her a bookkeeper. Arthur mentioned she’s good with numbers and helped him fix the books." Polly said nothing and this seemed to spark something in the gangster, "Got something to say?"

"Just don't let your cock do your thinking for you Thomas," Polly warned. He remained silent, but a small smirk was fixed on his face causing the aunt to roll her eyes.

When they entered the pub, it was empty, except for Harry, who stood behind the bar drying some glasses with a white rag. They saw Finn leaning against the outer wall of the private room, which Maggie assumed John and Arthur were already in.

"Stay out here Finn," Polly ordered the eleven-year-old who tried to enter with them.

"But Mags gets to go in!" The boy protested, yet his words went unheard. This made him look jealousy at his sister, who had stuck her tongue out at her little brother as she walked into the snug with the rest of the family. Both John and Arthur were already seated, and she took a place right next to Polly.

"All right John, there's only one man-," Tommy spoke, before declining the drink Arthur poured for him continuing, "There's only one man guarding the house. What's troubling you?"

"Aunt Polly, Maggie, you two know what it's been like since Martha died." John began.

Maggie gave her brother a sad smile as Polly took his hand and said, "God takes the best first."

John looked to his sister, "Mags, you've been a big help with them, but the truth is my kids have been running bloody rings around me." With hopelessness in his voice, he continued, "Running barefoot with the dogs until all hours."

Maggie's heart ached for him, but Tommy was not having it, "Pol, give him ten bob for some new shoes. Is that it, John?" He asked his brother impatiently.

"Tommy it would be better to do this without you," Polly scolded before turning her attention back to John. "Now what's your point?"

"What the kids need is a mother." John spoke again slowly, "So that's why I'm getting married."

Everyone in the room exchanged glances of surprise. Polly was the first to speak, "Does this poor girl know you're going to marry her? Or are you just going to spring it on her all of a sudden?"

John replied matter-of-factly, "I've already proposed, and she said 'yes'."

"I think that's great John," a smiling Maggie announced. Finally! She was officially off babysitting duty.

"I think there's a shell about to land and go bang," Tommy stated mockingly, before lighting the cigarette hanging in his mouth.

Hesitantly John spoke again, "It's um- its Lizzie Stark."

"Oh, eww," Maggie breathed out, crossing her arms as her family cackled at her expression.

Polly managed to compose herself, "John, Lizzie Stark is a strong woman and I am sure she provides a fine service for her customers-"

"I won't hear the word! Understand? Do not use that word." He told them angrily.

Tommy sighed out, "What word is that, John?"

"You know what word that is," John growled out.

"Everybody bloody knows" Arthur finally spoke out and pointed at his sister, "Shit, even Mags here knows."

John gritted out, "Everybody can go to Hell."

"Whore. That word?" Tommy finally supplied. "Or prostitute? How about that one?"

Fury flashed in Johns' eyes, "Right I want it known, if anyone calls her a whore again, I will push the barrel of my revolver down their throats and blow the word back down into their hearts."

"Well, that's not dramatic at all," Maggie mumbled out her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Men and their cocks never cease to amaze me." Polly berated, "John, Lizzie Stark never did a day's work vertical- "

"She's changed!" John insisted, "All right?! People change! Like- Like with religion-"

"Lizzie Stark has got religion, eh?" Tommy interrupted.

"No! No, she doesn't have religion, but- well she loves me." John asserted, "Now listen Tommy, I won't do it without your blessing. But of all the people in the world- I want you to see it as brave."

"Oh, it's brave all right," Arthur muttered before taking a swig of his drink.

"Brave is going where no man has gone before. And with Lizzie Stark, John, that really is not what you'll be doing" She told him, unable to hold back the laughter.

But he ignored her, looking back at his older brother, "Listen, Tommy, welcome her to the family, as someone whose had a hard life. All right because I need someone. The kids need someone."

Tommy looked as if he was about to give his reply before Finn pushed open the door forcefully panting out, "Tommy, we've been done over!"

"What?" Arthur asked in disbelief.

Quickly Maggie followed her siblings and Polly, who all practically ran out of the Garrison. Not stopping until they all were back in front of number seventeen, Watery Lane. "You and Finn stay outside," Polly ordered once they were outside the entrance of the betting shop.

Maggie was about to object until Tommy echoed their aunts' instructions and followed the rest of his family inside. The pair of Shelby's eventually moved from the noisy street to the alley where the car was parked. Finn carefully crawled onto the hood and contorted his way over the front window. Maggie followed her brother, stepping up to sit on top of the hood, letting her feet lightly kick the metal of the vehicle that protected the thin wheels.

"Look, Maggie," Finn giggled and the girl twisted her upper body to see her brother playing with the steering wheel, "I'm Tommy!"

The girl smiled, "If you're trying to be Tommy, you should work more on your scowl." She told him jokingly. Overdramatically Finn made a scowl but immediately broke character by breaking out in even more giggles, triggering Maggie to laugh as well.

Suddenly Tommy was at the entrance of the alleyway in front of them, he looked instantly distressed. "Maggie, Finn." He began slowly, "Both of you stay exactly where you are."

"What's wrong?" she asked him worriedly. Did something happen inside?

Raising his arm out to her spoke out cautiously, "Mags, as careful as ya can, I need you to slowly slide off the hood."

She did as she was told, while Finn kept snickering, "I was pretending I was you." The child told his brother, but Tommy ignored him instead he directed Maggie to move against the dingy brick wall.

Once he felt like his sister was out of danger he went back to the child in the car, "Which door did you open to come in Finn?"

"I didn't," He told his big brother proudly. "I climbed in."

"I want you to climb out exactly the same way you climbed in, okay?" Tommy instructed, but Finn disobeyed and opened the driver's door.

Maggie watched as Tommy ran to grab an object that had been on the side of the door, yelling out, "Clear!" before flinging it to hit the brick wall on the opposite side of the street. Maggie yelped out at the sound of the explosion, which caused working men to drop to the ground. "That's why you should never pretend to be me, okay?" Tommy told Finn, visibly shaken by this incident. Tommy then took a deep breath and pulled both of his younger siblings close to him.

OoOoOo

Polly and Maggie had just entered the washhouse Ada had informed them she would be visiting. It was a large space, but luckily there were not very many people who decided to do their laundry at the establishment that afternoon. Alone in the corner of the washroom, sitting on a stool, was a woman with a long brown coat, wide black hat, folding trousers onto the small table beside her.

"Need help?" Polly asked the woman eagerly.

The woman looked up to see her family members and smiled, "You got my letter." Ada grinned and stood up with a bit of difficulty, Polly was the first one to embrace her.

Once the aunt and niece pulled apart it was Maggie's turn. Though the hug was more on the awkward side, due to the sizable stomach that was in the way. She muttered into her sisters' ear, "Fuck, you're huge!"

"Oh, shut up." Ada happily retorted, smacking her sister's arm lightly.

"What's with the glasses?" Maggie laughed and pointed at the large spectacles on her sister's face.

"Freddie wants me in disguise when I go out now." She spoke with a bored tone and pointed to the strange-looking eyeglasses. "Can't bloody see anything with these."

Maggie grabbed a pair of socks, which she assumed was Freddie's, from Ada's hand, "Here let me help you." She told her sister and began to fold the newly laundered clothing.

"Has Freddie got you hiding somewhere near?" Polly asked hostilely.

"It's fucking rat hole," Ada spit out, "the entire flat is about the size of your room, Mags."

Maggie felt sad for her sister. Sure, the Shelby family didn't have much to their name, but they were better off compared to most of the population in Small Heath. "Is that Copper still looking for Freddie?" Ada inquired to which Polly nodded.

Ada cursed and placed a hand on her large stomach, "I just want to live in peace with my family. But instead of thinking of me or the baby, all he cares about is the bloody cause. Freddie even gave someone two hundred bloody pounds."

Polly leaned in closer to the pregnant girl, and with a hushed tone asked, "Who?"

OoOoOo

Maggie walked down the hall from her room to Tommy's, she was hoping she could borrow a pen since hers ran out of ink. Before she opened the closed door, she could have sworn she heard noises. Had her brother come home early?

"Tom?" She asked, opening the door, but that wasn't who was in the room, "John?"

Being caught, the third oldest Shelby stopped his rifling through their brothers' things, though seemed relieved it was only her, "Mags-"

"What are you doing here?" She asked before she noticed that his eyes were watery, "Has something happened?"

"The weddings off," He informed her with an irritated tone and moved to the dresser drawers.

"Oh." Was all she could manage to say awkwardly, "I'm sorry."

"Don't," he told her bitterly, shaking his head then went back to rifling through the dresser flipping over Tommy's clothes. "It ain't your fault I'm a fucking idiot!"

"You're no idiot, John," she assured him yet he just scoffed at her words.

"Never fall in love Maggie, leads to nothing but fucking agony."

“What does falling in love even feel like anyway?” She surprised herself when she asked.

John stopped and turned his red eyes to her for a moment before continuing his search, “You know it… it's like this feeling in your gut.” He told her somewhat uncomfortably, “Your heart beats a little faster, your mind always wanders back to thinking about them, no matter what you're doing; when you eat, when you sleep, when you work… Why the fuck are you asking me this?”

“No reason”, Maggie said quickly. "What are you even looking for, anyway?"

He didn't respond to her question, causing her to become frustrated. "Fine, don't tell me." Maggie walked over to the nightstand, picked up the first writing device she saw and left the room.

OoOoOo

The next evening Maggie had fallen asleep on the sofa in the tiny parlor of their home, at least until she was shaken awake by her aunt. "What's the matter?" she muttered out, quickly sitting herself up. Was something wrong? Had the Lees come back?

"Nothing, love" Polly reassured her, "I left a new dress on your bed, go put it on."

"We're going out?" The girl asked, confused, no one had told her they had prior arrangements.

"Yes," Polly nodded, "Now c'mon, we don't have that much time."

Maggie rose from her spot, "Where are we going, Pol?"

"To a wedding," The older woman huffed impatiently and made her way up the stairs to the bedrooms.

This confused Maggie even more, "Whose?"

Not two hours later Maggie had gotten her answer. She and Polly met Ada near the Lees campground and walked into their enemy's territory with no trouble at all. They approach the crowd of witnesses just as Johnny Dogs begins the ceremony. Ada stopped to stand beside Tommy.

"Let's stand over here, love," Polly said, guiding Maggie past her siblings to get a better view of the union. She watched on as Johnny officiated, taking notice that her brother actually looked happy to be up there. Her attention was taken off the bride and groom when she spotted Ross standing about ten feet away with the rest of the Peaky Blinders. Smiling softly at his familiar face, she waved, her stress alleviated when he did the same.

"I now pronounce you man and wife," Johnny said happily as all the witnesses cheered at the new couple's first kiss.

As the night went on the partygoers were all in a festive mood. Sitting on a wooden barrel, Maggie watched as everyone mingled and danced. Tommy was sitting and chatting with the matriarch of the Lee family, Arthur was in the middle of what looked like a drinking contest, and John danced to the music with his beautiful new wife, Esme. Even she had started to sway to the music as the firecrackers sounded off over the happy noises.

"Mags," Ross greeted her, walking up next to stand next to her seating place.

"Hello," she replied, followed by an awkward pause, "I'm sorry I've been avoiding you." She told him after a few moments.

"Understandable." He responded instantly, "I've been a wanker and not just to you." Taking another puff of his cigarette, he exhaled, "I'll talk to Cara."

Maggie was surprised by this proclamation, "Really?"

"I'll sort it out." He nodded looking at the others dancing, and with a smile continued, "I miss walking with you two."

Maggie returned the smile, "We miss you too."

Ross stuck his hand out, "Care to dance?"

Maggie felt her face flush, and waved her hands in protest, "Oh, no I couldn't."

"C'mon, it's a party." He urged, with his hand still outstretched. Smiling, the girl cautiously took it and was led to the crowd.

Feeling like an idiot, she tried to keep up with the fast-paced music, but it seemed like her feet couldn't move fast enough. She felt someone clumsily bump into her backside nearly knocking her over. "Oi! Watch- Oh sorry love." Ada slurred out.

"It's alright," Maggie assured her sister, regaining her balance.

Ada then awkwardly cupped her little sister's face with both hands, and with a very stern tone warned, "Don't you ever let a man call you a 'Fucking Shelby' you hear me." She then rounded on the man next to her and jabbed a finger close to Ross’s face. "You hear me."

"Don't you worry, Ada," Ross guaranteed her, which seemed to be good enough for the older Shelby girl whose demeanor quickly changed back to her delighted drunkenness, dancing away from them.

As Ross spun her around, she caught a glimpse of John and Esme, sitting together and happily getting to know one another, "Seems like love at first sight." She heard Ross say.

"Seems so," Maggie replied happily. Very soon her attention was drawn to Tommy and Arthur trying to get a drunken Ada under control, "Oh no." She breathed out, walking closer to her feuding family members.

"Come and look, Esme!" Ada shouted, "Come and look at the family you joined!" The music ceased and now everyone's attention was on the intoxicated woman. "Come and look at the man who runs it! He chooses his brother's wives for them!" Ada shouted out for everyone to hear. She wasn't finished though, the woman then pointed at her younger sister, "Have you got some old perverted man lined up for Maggie?!"

Maggie felt her stomach drop at the thought, she felt everyone's gaze turn to her as she remained frozen in place. The only comfort that she felt was when Ross put her arm around her waist, as if to protect her. Tommy just stood in front of Ada looking at her stoically, but the mother-to-be wasn't done yet. "He hunts his own sister down like a rat, and he tries to kill his own brother-in-law!"

"Ada, that's enough!" Arthur tried to intervene.

"And now he won't even let me have a fucking dance! Not even at a fucking wedding!"

"Sit her down!" John barked out.

"Calm down Ada," Polly kept repeating, trying to soothe her. "Holy Shit. Water, right."

"Not now Ada," Arthur whined, obviously devastated the party was now unavoidably cut short. "Bloody hell, you do pick your times."

Tommy rushed over to Ada placing his coat over her and assisted Pol with leading her out of the vicinity and into the family car.

Maggie turned to her friend, "I have to-"

"Go." Ross finished for her.

Maggie rushed towards her family, who all made their way to the car. "It's too early!" she heard Ada cry out as she was ushered into the vehicle. Maggie too jumped into the front seat next to her brother.

"It'll be ok, love." Polly soothed sliding in next to her, before turning to the driver, "Step on it, Tommy."

OoOoOo

"Freddie," Ada kept repeating as she laid down on the sofa in the small parlor. "I want Freddie!"

"I know," Maggie sighed out uncomfortably, moving a sweaty piece of hair out of her sister's face.

"I can't do it, Mags. I can't do it on my own." Ada whimpered.

The younger girl's heart ached, "Hey, look at me, you can do this," She assured her, "You are so strong, if anyone can do this it'll be you."

Luckily for them, Esme had finally arrived moments later.

"Ada!" They heard Polly scream before she re-entered the home. "They're getting the word out to Freddie. He'll be here, love." She assured her niece, who grunted out as yet another contraction commenced.

"I think it might be the wrong way 'round," Esme told them, "I attended three sisters."

"Yeah, I think you're right," Polly agreed.

Maggie squirmed in place nervously, "What does that mean?"

"We should lean her forward," Esme suggested and Polly nodded, helping Ada up.

"C'mon, it's not that long to go, darling," The aunt encouraged the screaming woman. "Push, two, three!"

"Holy shit," Maggie muttered out, as she watched a new life was making its way out of her sister.

"Keep going, that's it!" Polly cheered before pulling out the baby completely. "It's a boy, Ada," Polly told the exhausted woman over the newborn's cries as Esme cut the cord connecting the mother and son with some old scissors.

Polly cleaned the new baby boy off tenderly with a small rag before returning him to Ada, who was beaming at the small life in her arms. Maggie heard banging from the front entrance and if she had not gotten out of the way fast enough Freddie may have run over her. Maggie smiled at the sight of the little family. The feeling didn't last long though, because the front door opened once again, and she felt herself being pushed aside the wall by a copper. Esme could be heard yelling, the baby boy began to shriek, and Ada sobbed, clinging to her newborn to her chest.

"Freddie!" Ada cried out as the group of officers dragged the new father out of the home.

"Tommy," Polly said darkly before letting out a string of curses in Romany before storming out of the house.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #shelby sister #tommy shelby #ada shelby #polly gray #oc #arthur shelby #john shelby #1920 #esme lee #finn shelby #peaky blinders fanfiction

[moral-turpitudes]

Drowning:

Trigger Warnings: Angst, Swearing, Guns, Neglect, etc.

Word Count: 2,400

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Shelby!Sister 

I’ve wanted to try my hand at OC’s for a while so her name is Evelyn Shelby lol.

Request: “Hey! Maybe one with Thomas were he kind of forgets that his little sister actually has feelings. He keeps on using her as bait for the business and one day she snaps, pointing a gun to her head. Just an angst fic. Love your writing so much. xx”

Requested by: Anon

Summary: Years after returning from London and agreeing to help out her family, Evelyn Shelby soon comes to terms with the horrors of her job and hopes someone can help her see the good she’s done for the family, even if it means talking to her ever-distant brother Thomas.

“That’ll be 3 pounds Mr.” The third youngest Shelby said quietly, grabbing her hand gun from her purse while the man looked away, giving her enough time to slip her coat on over her bare body, and hiding the gun in her pocket.

“I’ll give you 5 if you tell Mr. Shelby I’m coming for him tomorrow, I know you’ve seen him around here.” The man said, his breath reeking of whiskey as he whispered in her ear.

Shivers went down her spine as the man touched her face. He caressed her cheek roughly before moving away from her, placing two extra bills on the bed before heading to the door.

“Wait, I forgot to tell you something...” She said as he stopped to turn around. He smirked, eyeing her up and down as she walked towards him.

“You won’t be seeing anyone.” She said, giving him a wicked smile as she quickly pulled the gun out and shot the man point blank. As he fell to the floor with a loud thud, blood dripped down her face and bare chest as she looked at the mess of the bedroom.

Tommy saved this area of the Garrison for when anyone in the family needed a place to stay or a place to fuck, and tonight was her night to use the room as she pleased, all in the name of blinder business.

She walked over to the en-suite bathroom, looking at her haggard reflection in the mirror. Blood glinted off her face and chest in the dimly lit room, her makeup was smeared in some areas, and her hair was in a messy bun of sorts.

As she glanced silently in the mirror, she lit a cigarette, letting the smoke escape through her lips before curling it back through her nose, desperately needing to calm her nerves as she thought about the past couple years.

After her brothers left for war, she left for London, leaving Ada and Polly to care for Finn in order to start her life on her own terms for once, knowing she couldn’t stay out in Small Heath like the others as it held too many memories. But when she eventually got news of her brothers coming home, she knew she couldn’t leave them, especially after their mother’s death and their fathers sudden departure.

As the memories came flooding back, she remembered that she took this job to help them and to spend more time with them, but it only took a toll on her as time went on.

On the outside, she remained calm much like her older brother Tommy, but on the inside she was drowning. Drowning in the darkness that consumed her thoughts when she was near her brothers, thinking that if she’d succumb to the waves, that no one would be there to pull her out, not unless they were forced to. The only ones who paid her any mind these days were Polly and Finn, as Ada was out with her son most days and the boys were out wreaking almost as much havoc as she was.

As she finished her cigarette, she dabbed some of the blood off her face and chest, realizing there weren’t many wash cloths to use.

“Fuck it.” She mumbled under her breath as she quickly got dressed and put her bloodstained coat back on. Her dress was wrinkled and torn where the man had roughly gone for her chest, not having any sense in his drunken state.

With light footsteps she padded over to the bed to strap on her heels, and grabbed the money as she headed for the door, avoiding the puddle of blood and stepping over the mans body.

Her heels clicked down the stairs as she made her way through the back hall of the Garrison, the bar seemingly empty except for her brother Tommy.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, almost no emotion in her voice as she spoke from tired lips, a cut from a few hours before making itself known as she remembered the man slapping her for being too “bossy” when explaining her rates like rehearsed.

“I’m here to drink, Evelyn. I’m also here to collect that mans body so I don’t have to deal with it tomorrow.”

“Tommy Shelby, getting his hands dirty? I thought that was for Arthur these days. What about uncle Charlie? You seem to have enough blood on your hands already.” She remarked, sitting down across from him at the booth and looking at his bloodied knuckles. He scoffed as he took a swig of his whiskey, the smell of it making her stomach churn slightly.

“Did he do that?” Tommy said, an angry look filling his eyes as he looked at the cut on her lip.

“What do you think?” She said putting out her cigarette as she blew out a final puff of smoke.

“It’s a good thing he’s already dead.” He said, looking out the window and avoiding his sisters tired gaze.

“How was the family meeting? I wasn’t invited apparently.” She remarked, ripping him out of his thoughts.

“I’m not doing this, Ev we talked about this.” He said rolling his eyes at her as he sat back in the seat, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I just want to know why in the hell you include everyone except me in the meetings. I want to know why you make time for everyone except me...Tell me. Now.” She demanded, her heart racing and face flushing with anger as her temper flared. Her eyes eerily mimicked her brothers as she looked at him.

Tommy sighed as he spoke, choosing his words carefully.

“We think that limiting your attendance at meetings can be good for you. We’re just wanting to protect our sister.” He said.

Evelyn scoffed as she took the bottle of whiskey in her hand, drinking straight from the bottle.

“You think you’re protecting me but you’re not. One day Tommy...one fucking day you’ll realize that I’m valuable to this god forsaken family as more than a whore. You can pull that shit with the others about what’s best for us but you’re not pulling that with me.” She said taking another cigarette out of her coat and lighting it herself as she continued.

“I want to be here, believe me I do, but not being let in on what’s happening doesn’t help as much as you think it does. I barely know what’s going on unless you come to me personally...If you cared about me, you wouldn’t cast me out as the fucking bait of the family and then leave me hanging.” She said, tears threatening to fall down her blood stained cheeks.

“You’re helping with the business because it’s in your blood, Evelyn. We’re family, and we’re paying you more than you could back in London. Would you want to abandon us?” He asked, getting defensive.

“What difference would it make Tommy? I’m no more valuable to you dead or alive. I just lure the men you can’t kill right away and I don’t get any recognition for that. I’ve killed 20 men since I’ve moved back to help the family and I can remember each of their faces.” She said, looking away from him annoyed.

“Don’t you get tired of seeing their faces haunting you?” She asked, taking another swig from the bottle, the alcohol burning her cut lip as she swallowed.

“I stopped seeing their faces a long time ago Ev, and you need to as well. This is why we’ve been keeping you out of the business most days.” He said taking the bottle from her grasp.

“I’m sitting here still covered in his blood, I’m sitting here after another night with a drunken evil man and I’m disgusted Thomas...I feIt nothing when I shot him.” She said, her fingers grazing the metal of the hand gun in her pocket.

“You know how you said you felt like you were drowning when you came home from France?” She asked.

“Well I feel like that too, but no ones dared to ask how I've been. I’ve always been the last in command. Hell, fucking Finn has more say in this family than I do.” She said, putting the gun to her head shakily. Tommy froze inside, barely being able to speak at first.

“Evelyn...listen to me...your work has helped us, we’ve just been too busy to stop and fucking think about anything else. Who was the person that cheered me up when Arthur and John and I got home aye? It was you. Not Ada, not Finn, just you. If you’re drowning...I’d like to help, if you’ll let me...” He said, looking into his sisters eyes that were almost a reflection of his.

With a sigh she set the gun on the table, sliding it to Tommy. He immediately put it in his coat and stood up.

“What are you doing?” She asked, running her hands over the dried blood down her cheek.

“We’re going to talk about this and I’m going to clean you up.” He said, lighting a cigarette before heading over to the bar.

“What’s eating at you aye? You may not think I can tell that you’ve been off but I can. You know Polly sent me here for you...” He said, pouring her a glass of water and drenching a cloth in alcohol.

He handed the cloth to her and got to work on the other one as she wiped off the blood on her chest, looking at the tear in her dress and pulling her coat tightly to her as she tried to cover the large rip.

“Polly will kill me herself if she sees the dress is torn. Fucking bastard.” She said taking a sip of water.

Tommy sat near her and dabbed the cloth on her face and inspected the cut on her lip, causing her to wince as he cleaned it.

“I’m not talking about the dress Evelyn, that can be fixed. What’s going on up here?” He asked, pointing to his head.

“Everything and...nothing...” She said, looking down at her hands that were clenched together in her lap.

“I guess it’s in our blood because I like this business...getting rid of bad men that keep fucking us over, but...killing them takes a toll. I see their faces when I try to sleep some nights, and other nights I sleep as if nothing happened...” She said as Tommy sat back in his chair, he nodded for her to continue.

“I just get so scared that one day I’m going to lay with a man and not come back, some of them are vile people.” She said, wincing at the memory of a past painful business deal.

“If I put you on regular business in the shops, would that help you?” He asked.

Evelyn scoffed at his offer.

“You know me Tommy, I have to keep moving. I have to do something more than sitting at a desk crunching numbers. I’m too wild for that.” She said smirking, her features resembling her aunt Polly at times.

Tommy smiled at the memory of her chasing rats with Ada, shooting at them with a revolver as they played in the streets near their house.

“I know. That’s why I’m planning on changing your job.” He said giving her his signature smile. Not many people saw it after the war, but when she’d returned from London when the boys had gotten back from France, it was the one thing he reserved for her, the one thing that made her realize she didn’t completely lose her brother.

“What are you planning? I can practically see your brain flipping over in that ugly head of yours.” She joked, lightly punching his arm.

“I’m wanting to hire some lighter muscle. Someone who can get info on the inside but still be able to hold their own. Ada’s been working on getting some inside information about her contacts she had with Freddie, and I think you could help me when we go on more blinder business.” He said.

“Do I look like I could hold my fucking own? Are you mad?” She asked.

“I’ve seen you shoot my enemies plenty of times, and you wrestled Arthur and I to the ground years ago. I’d hate to see what you could do now.” He said smirking.

“I’m sure with enough training I could still take you down.” She said looking up at her brother. His eyes tired and wrinkling at the edges.

“I wouldn’t doubt it. You’ve never liked being in one place and never liked people picking on us. If anything you’re the only one of us whose really held on to our gypsy roots aye?” He said, adjusting his coat as he stood up.

“You have a point.” She said, smirking as she got up as well.

“Are you drowning now?” He asked quietly, his eyes scanning hers.

She sighed and looked down, trying to think about all that’s upset her over the years since she’s been home.

“Not anymore.” She said, giving her brother a hug, taking him off guard at the sudden contact.

He gently placed his hands around her in a warm embrace as she kept herself there, not remembering when the last time was that she’d given one of her siblings a hug.

“Tell Polly thank you. And I guess since I still love you guys, thank you for checking in too. I accept the offer as well by the way.” She said releasing herself from him.

“Isn’t that what big brothers are for?” He asked as she walked towards the door.

“I guess.” She said chuckling as they both walked out of the Garrison.

“Aren’t you going to take care of the bastard upstairs?” She asked.

“I will once I take you back home. He’ll be gone before the morning.” He said, lighting a cigarette and driving off towards her apartment.

“I’m counting on that. Can’t have the coppers after me.” She said, looking back behind her as the Garrison shrunk in the distance.

“I’ve told you this before, you don’t have to worry about the cops. They’ll leave ya alone if they want to keep their eyes.” He said, driving as the sun set around them, the plans for the future of his business rolling around in his head the whole way there.

Tag List:

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#katiesrequests #peaky blinders #peaky blinders oneshots #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagines #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #thomas shelby x shelby!sister #shelby!sister #katieswiplist

[prurientpuddlejumper]

You’re a Mean One, Mr. Kneef (Part 2)

<- Part 1 | Part 3 ->

For @thatesqcrush​’s Naughty or Nice Holiday Bingo! Filling the Fake Relationship When Visiting Family square. 

Bryan Kneef x Female Reader

Warnings: Language. Holiday fluff. Bryan being the worst... but also hot? Horrible pet names. Nothing nsfw happens this chapter except Bryan’s mouth. 

2,900 words

The bluish LED headlights of Bryan Kneef’s BMW blinded other drivers as they cut through the dark on the drive to his parents’ suburban house. You ascertained from the hands-free call he was making the family hadn’t started dinner yet. Christmas was close to the winter solstice, so it wasn’t as late as the sky suggested, although you’d heard a hungry child screaming impatiently about having to wait for Uncle Bry.

“Uncle Bry,” you teased as the call ended.

He chuckled. “That would be my brother’s kid, Finn. My brother’s name is Timothy. The CEO of LogicFinance. You will say you’ve ‘heard so much about them.’ Let’s review.”

“Jesus.”

Sitting next to Bryan while his attention wasn’t on you, you lost yourself noticing things. The clean smell of his cologne. How sexy he looked—in a rich douchey way—in his tailored suit and expensive car. His long fingers wrapped around the steering wheel. That beard that made you want to scream, “Daddy!”

You could almost forget he was the asshole who held every paralegal at STR Laurie hostage with busywork unless you pretended to be the woman who dumped him. 

Until he started barking at you to memorize facts about his life.

“First, what do I have to know about this woman I’m supposed to be?”

He stared straight ahead at the road. “Her name is Sydney. So you’re Syd from now on.”

“Oh joy. Being called your ex’s name all night won’t be weird or anything.”

“You were the one who wanted to get out of work.”

“Whatever. I bet you already forgot my real name, anyway.”

He didn’t contradict you. The engine roared to life as he changed lanes before signaling and cut off the SUV he’d been tailgating for the last mile.

Your arms crossed over your chest. “How much did you tell your family about Sydney? I hope you didn’t send them any pictures.”

“Not much, and obviously not. I’m not stupid.”

“Just pathetic.”

He scowled. Before he could think of a searing response to take back control of the conversation, you asked another question that knocked him off balance.

“What made this one so different? We’ve been working together for what, a year? And I’ve never seen you upset over a breakup.”

“The sex was fantastic,” he answered too loudly.

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh yeah. I’ve never had a woman who could keep up with me—”

“Because you finish too quickly?”

“Cute. Keep it up.” He stepped on the gas again and your stomach lurched as he pulled off another aggressive passing maneuver in the right lane. “No one walks away from my bed unsatisfied. You could find out. A little reward for helping me out tonight?”

“Not in a million years,” you clipped, shutting him down, even though your wild, lonely, horny side that noticed his beard and fingers was beating at the inside of your skull. “You are going to keep it decent and chaste. Ground rules: holding hands. Kisses on the cheek. Moderate cuddling as the situation calls for it. That should be plenty to sell that we’re involved.”

“You haven’t seen me around women I’m involved with,” he smirked with a suggestive glint in the side of his eye.

“And I’m sure your parents haven’t seen you with a partner who isn’t just some bimbo you’re screwing, either. Cop a feel, and I end the charade right there.”

That comment, which was more insightful than you knew, silenced him. His suggestive side-glance returned forward to focus on the road. That look was back on his face again—the look when he ran out of swaggering bullshit to spew. Sadness. Genuine human sadness.

“She wasn’t clingy,” he said, voice a soft rumble. “Didn’t expect me to be her fucking boyfriend—she was the one who told me no strings.”

“You loved her because she was distant?”

“No. I don’t know. She did nice things, too—like ask how my day was, and bring me coffee. She remembered the way I like it.”

“That’s just basic human kindness, Bryan.” You sighed. “That’s actually… really sad.”

“Fuck you.”

“I mean it. You call women clingy for wanting to be close to you, and now you’re so starved for connection you think remembering your coffee order is a huge deal. Your secretary knows your coffee order. Hell, I know your damned coffee order you’ve sent me out for it enough times, even though—as I often remind you—that’s not my job. I’m sorry. Really. But maybe this is a lesson? That you actually have a heart and might want to try opening it sometime?”

“How the fuck is that the lesson? I open my heart, I get hurt. From now on, I’m only dating broads who disgust me.” His eyes lingered on you for a dangerously long time until you got the point and gave an annoyed grunt. His eyes returned to the road, corners crinkled in satisfaction.

***

Dinner was already starting when Bryan’s BMW finally pulled into the driveway of a large house on a private cul-de-sac. The porch was glowing with tasteful white lights and a wreath on the door. Silhouettes were moving behind the decorative glass set into the front door, waiting for you to get out of the car. As soon as you approached, the door flew open and you were hit with the smell of roast turkey.

“Bry-Bry! We were worried you wouldn’t make it!” His silver-haired mother threw her arms around Bryan’s neck while he grumbled with reluctant affection, hugging her back.

A rich oaken voice of the man who must have been his father said, “And this must be the famous Sydney. We thought we’d never get to meet you.” He shook your hand warmly.

Both of them were wearing hideous red and green Christmas sweaters straight out of a Hallmark movie.

“I can’t believe this one hasn’t driven you away!” Bryan’s mom teased, pinching his pink cheek as she did so. “We’re so happy you put up with our little monster.” She hugged you.

“Come, come on in. Let me take your coat. We were just starting dinner—you’re right on time.” His dad helped you shrug your winter coat off and hung it up in the entryway closet for you.

This was… bizarre. How the hell did people this friendly churn out a Bryan?

More shocking still was when you felt warm, long fingers twine between yours, and you nearly tore your hand away before remembering you had a “boyfriend” tonight. Bryan smiled at you sweetly, eyes soft and affectionate.

Yep. You’d fallen into some kind of Bizarro World.

Martha, his mother, led you both through the spacious house toward the dining room. “What do you think of our humble home?” she asked, pausing in the living room. “I keep thinking I should move that chair to the other side of the fireplace. What do you think? Would it flow better?”

“Uh, I’m not really—”

“Mom! We’re hungry,” Bryan snapped.

“Oh, come on, honey, let me pick her brain! It’s not every day we have an interior designer in here.”

“Bryan told you I’m an interior designer?” Your mouth smiled pleasantly at Bryan while your eyes stabbed daggers into his stupid handsome face.

“Obviously I forgot I mentioned it,” he smiled back.

You batted your eyes. Now the daggers were on fire.

“Well, what do you think? Chair on the left, or the right?”

“Well,” you said, “the symmetry with the fireplace is… balanced with the rich tones in the leather”—Martha nodded along attentively—“You know, I’ve been working all day, maybe we can talk shop later?”

“Oh! Of course! I’m sorry—Bryan’s mean old mom ambushing you the minute you walk in the door!” She flexed her hand into vampire-claws and playfully attacked your shoulder. “Aw, are the stuffy old adults embarrassing you, peanut?”

Bryan’s cheeks turned the brightest pink you had ever seen them. And this was a man who didn’t blush when telling a roomful of attorneys to go fuck themselves. You let out the first genuine laugh you’d made in his presence. You squeezed his hand.

“Honey-bear, I love your parents!”

***

The table was crowded with Kneef siblings, cousins, and their children and spouses. Finn, you guessed, was the youngest boy. And that would make the silver fox next to him Timothy. His older brother had the same bluntness as Bryan, but none of the cruelty. In fact, his entire family was so… normal.

Bryan’s hard edges were hardly softened in their presence, but unlike in the office where his cranky moods inspired fear, here they were met with boos and hisses and his cousin throwing a bread roll at him. The youngest kids mimicked this exciting behavior, and soon it was raining whole-wheat on Bryan Kneef.

You smiled and patted his hand and called him “dear” and made sure your mouth was full of turkey the moment anyone asked you about yourself.

Over the evening, you learned that Mrs. Martha Kneef put herself through nursing school after having her first child to support the family while her husband piddled around with his low-paying hobby in computers. By the time Bryan was born, his father was programming for a growing company, working his way up the ranks—back in the days when one could do that. By the time Bryan was ten, dad was the Chief Information Officer of one of the largest corporations in the country.

And so Bryan, the youngest, grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth, handed all the things his parents had worked hard for in the hopes that he would have a better life.

“All the child-rearing books at the time said encouragement was important,” said Martha, who was a little drunk on red wine at this point. She let out an exasperated groan. “This is what happens when you encourage too much. We created a monster. Didn’t we?” Her voice went higher as she pinched Bryan’s cheek again.

“Martha and I are so happy to see him finally settling down with someone.”

“Yeah, how’d you manage to find a girl who’ll put up with you?” Tim teased, punching Bryan’s arm.

Bryan stared back. Locked eyes with his brother. He took a deep breath. “How’d you manage to—”

Bryan then asked something too obscene to be repeated, which set the entire table screaming, and parents’ hands clamping over children’s ears (though not before an adorable curly-haired niece asked, “mommy, what’s a prolapsed rectum?”).

You should have been offended, or embarrassed to be attached to the guy wrecking Christmas without even needing to be drunk. But oddly, as hot as your cheeks were, you found yourself laughing. You were dating the most interesting guy at the table. He was so overwhelmingly charismatic—not necessarily in a positive way, but in a way that made him the center of attention in any room he walked into. And he was charming enough for people to keep wanting him around, even when he said things that... were probably going to scar those children for life. Not to mention the adults.

Reaching over, you cupped the opposite side of his cheek and forced him to turn his head to you. “You’re so bad, Bry. How do I put up with you?” You began affectionately scratching his beard like it was something you’d done to him a hundred times. “He’s just so cute, I can’t resist. Settle down now, baby.”

His mom gave a loud, “Aww” and Bryan side-eyed his brother, who snorted.

You were getting into it, mussing up his perfect beard in a way that was sure to annoy him later—but it wasn’t annoying him that was on your mind. It was more the feeling of that coarse but soft hair under your fingertips, the shape of his jawline… the way he was staring back at you, eyelids drooping…

“It’s really the beard I’m dating—if he ever shaves, we’re breaking up,” you joked, suddenly needing to crush the romantic mood. It worked. His family laughed, and Bryan scowled, catching your wrist to make you stop.

***

Bryan wanted to leave right after dinner, but his mother wheedled him to stay.

“We’ve still got your bedroom set up if you want to sleep here. Think of it—we could have Christmas morning together just like when you and Timmy were babies!”

“Ma! I couldn’t impose on Syd. She… has a cat.”

Great. More backstory to remember. You surreptitiously elbowed him in the side.

Bryan got his dominating instincts from somewhere, though. The big ask to stay the night was a tactic to make him give in to the smaller ask of staying for hot cocoa and holiday movies.

Bryan had yet to recover from your crack about breaking up with him and forgot to play the part of the affectionate boyfriend. While her husband was explaining the intricacies of a particular wireless security device to whichever cousins would listen, Martha casually sidled up and whispered, “You don’t have to be shy about PDA in front of us old people. We’ve seen everything.”

“Oh! Uh...” Your mouth gaped, unsure how the fuck to respond to that.

Bryan overheard it and rolled his eyes with a groan. “Ma!”

He looked so grumpy and annoyed, something about it made you kiss him on the cheek. Just to put to rest his mother’s suspicions! That must have been it.

Then Bryan was all fire again, his eyes glittering above a wicked smirk. He grabbed your waist and pulled you roughly against his arousingly solid body, covering your neck with wet, open-mouthed kisses. Oh god, hot. He was definitely only doing this to make his mom uncomfortable, and if you knew Bryan, he wouldn’t stop until she regretted meddling or he was fucking you on the stack of presents under the tree. So why was your skin too hot? Why did it prickle everywhere his hand wandered? Palming your curves, sliding down to your hips, lowering over the swell of—

You leaned close until your lips brushed the shell of his ear. “Watch your hands, or HR is hearing all about this,” you warned, then pulled away smiling.

Bryan smiled back. “Of course, babycakes.”

“You lovebirds! Keep it PG.”

He warned you in the car that no one would buy him keeping things chaste, didn’t he? Well, you weren’t going to be the one to blow your cover.

When you filed into the living room where the kids were already watching A Christmas Story, there was only one spot left on the couch, and an empty armchair. Bryan flopped down on the recliner, and you sat on his lap. His chest vibrated as he gave an encouraging growl, cocking an eyebrow at you.

“You didn’t expect me to sit alone, did you, honey-bear?” you cooed.

His hand moved to support your hip, cradling you close to him. The other hand covered yours, which was resting on your knee. It was just a performance, but god, his hands were so big and warm, and the gesture so remarkably soft. You let yourself recline back against his chest, and turned your head to inspect his profile—the greying at his temple, a strong, square brow that shaded such lively green eyes.

A fire danced in the fireplace, stockings hung up neatly above it. A tree in the opposite corner filled the room with a piny balsam scent. The whole scene felt so domestic. Bryan’s beard scratched the side of your face, the soft cashmere of the sweater he’d thrown on over his dress shirt making him a comfortable cuddle partner. Suddenly you could imagine perfectly well why someone might put up with him.

“So, Sydney, how did you meet Bryan?” his father asked. A few other prying relatives leaned forward, and you began to sweat.

“Oh… I’m sure Bryan’s already told this story,” you deflected, glancing at him for assistance. Bryan frowned.

“It was through a case.” His evasive answer only made everyone more curious.

“What kind of case?”

“A divorce case.”

A bark of laughter leaped from your throat before you could hold it in, and you had to quickly disguise it as the kind of nostalgic laugh you get from an inside joke. “It’s true”—you stroked Bryan’s beard—“I think he only slept with me as part of the victory, you know? Took my ex’s money, took his wife. You know our Bryan,” you giggled. You would bet money that was exactly how it happened, too. “It’s a major rebound for me. But it’s been working out. Bryan has this whole other side to him that people don’t see.”

He looked at you. The clarity of his green eyes caught you off guard, and you felt a burning heat creeping up the side of your neck toward your ears.

“Well, we’re so happy to meet you!”

“You dog, Bry.”

“Want to see baby pictures?”

The last voice was Martha’s.

“No.” Bryan said. “She doesn’t.”

Of your asshole boss? Why yes. Yes, you did.

“He used to be such a sweet little peanut.” His mother always seemed eager to stir trouble for her brat of a son. “Just wait until you see how cute he was in diapers.”

“No!” Bryan groaned, but couldn’t stop you from following Martha to the family photo albums.

He had no power here.

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

Tagged: @beccabarba​ / @caked-crusader​ / @itsjustmyfantasyroom​ / @thatesqcrush​ / @dianilaws​ / @permanentlydizzy​ / @mrsrafaelbarba​ / @madamsnape921​ / @astrangegirlsmind​ / @neely1177​ / @onerestein​ / @welcometothemadxxhouse​ / @stardust-fray​ / @dreila03​ / @tropes-and-tales​ / @the-baby-bookworm​ / @ireadfanfictionontheweekends​ 

(I also just tagged everyone who commented/reblogged the last chapter even if u didn’t ask so uhhh >_> lmk if you hate that?)

#Bryan Kneef #bryan kneef x reader #Raúl Esparza #raul esparza #thatesqcrush holiday bingo #moodboard #The Good Fight #My writing

[tcm]

A Conversation with Patty McCormack on Growing Up on Screen By Kim Luperi

Not many child stars go on to enjoy long, successful careers in show business – and fewer still have earned a prestigious Academy Award nomination before they turned 18. Patty McCormack has achieved both. The actress, who made her first film appearance in 1951 and went on to star in THE BAD SEED (’56, for which she received an Oscar nomination for Best Supporting Actress as the murderous Rhoda at age 11); THE ADVENTURES OF HUCKLEBERRY FINN (’60) and THE YOUNG RUNAWAYS (’68), continues to work in Hollywood and shows no indication of slowing down.

I had the pleasure of speaking with McCormack recently about some of these titles and more, including the delightful film KATHY O’ ('58) in which she plays a famous child star – an apt springboard for a discussion about growing up on screen and transitioning into more mature roles over her incredibly long, accomplished career.   

(This interview has been edited for length and clarity.)

I was watching KATHY O’ last night, and I really enjoyed it. In that movie they talk about your blonde pigtail braids as a trademark, and I realized it kind of was; you had that hairstyle in THE BAD SEED and ALL MINE TO GIVE (’57), too. Do you know how that style came about, or was it something you did that caught on?

Patty McCormack: It seems to be! I believe I even had them early on in Mama, which was an old live TV show that was a weekly event. I don't know how that [trademark] happened. I think it just happened because of THE BAD SEED – I think it was the hairdo that I went in with or they just decided on. When you see the original artwork on William March’s book, there’s a very long face drawing of Rhoda, his Rhoda, and there were braids in it. I don't know if they were looped or what, but that could have been it – or I honestly don't remember if it was chosen by my mom because it was easy, but it stuck!

I loved KATHY O’ because I got to live the dream. I loved the notion of them cutting my hair off – except it was a wig that they cut. After a while it felt like I didn't want to look like an older person with braids – you have to get rid of them eventually. As soon as I could, I wanted hair that was like, in that era, a page boy or something like that, where it landed on your shoulder. But I carried that long hair for a long time. And then you know how you revert back to certain hairdos years later? 

They come back in style.

PM: Yes, they come back, but now I have shortish hair, and I'm growing it one length. So I got over the braids – just in the nick of time!

Circling back to Rhoda, you originated the role on Broadway before the film version, so you obviously had a lot of practice and familiarity with the part before you took it to the screen. Since she's such a chilling character, how did you get into that mindset at age nine, especially when you had to play the part multiple times a week?

PM: I always go back to the source, and the source was the director, Reginald Denham. He was so good with directing me. He made it fun, because I learned when I'd get an audience reaction on a face I’d make or something, I'd look forward to doing that again – you know, that kind of joy.

He made it so clear and simple, and his point of view was that Rhoda was always right. I know I've said this before, but it's the truth. No matter what anybody says, Rhoda is correct, and anything she wants, she feels entitled to – not using that word ‘entitled’ – but I really wasn't thinking of myself as a bad person, or especially not a murderer. I just thought it was their fault, which is classic, I guess. I had to kill him [the little boy] because he was so mean. So I think that was how I learned to be that character. I was aware of the murders – people were dead because of me, that I knew – but somehow it wasn't disturbing to my mind. If you take a look at it knowing that, you see it. I'm not coming from some sort of evil place, I don't think.

You were nominated for an Oscar for THE BAD SEED, which is amazing; it's a true testament to your talents, of course, but it’s also such a big accolade to have at such a young age. Do you remember there being any pressure on you for your next role?

PM: Well, the role was so odd for a kid to be so noticed, in that era anyway. I can't think of any jobs I didn't get after that that somebody else got, you know? What happened, though, was that each year I grew, and so I just experienced the typical kid actor dilemma which is going from category to category and establishing yourself in that category and learning how to be in that category. I did do something on Playhouse 90 – I did a few PLAYHOUSE 90s back then – and I did a lot of television –

You played Helen Keller [in the original 1957 Playhouse 90 teleplay “The Miracle Worker”].

PM: That's what I was going to say! That was after THE BAD SEED. But mostly, as far as movies went, there was KATHY O’ and a few here and there and at different levels of development. I was always aware that it had been a while since I worked, that I felt, but I didn't think business, like “What will I follow up that with?” I didn't have that kind of mentality, and I really don't think my mother did either, so it just sort of went the way it went.

As you mentioned too, you were still growing up. So, you’re a child, then a teenager, then young adult. You probably wouldn’t be thinking about the business part of it. 

PM: No, it's so strange. It's not an easy transition, and as you know famous people go through really hard things. You don't get to sit and relax in a certain mode for too long because before you know it you're in the next one. And then you go through your ‘ugly period’ in front of everybody, which is horrible.

The movie that you mentioned TCM is going to air, THE ADVENTURES OF HUCKLEBERRY FINN, when I see the headshots from that I just think, “Aw, I looked uncomfortable!” I could see it even in my body. I felt like I was at the awkward time – you know, part of me was getting bigger, developing – and that hairdo they gave me didn't help; it was still the braids but wrapped up.

I want to ask you about that transition. Did you find anything difficult or surprising about navigating Hollywood and growing up on screen? 

PM: The most difficult part, honestly, as a person growing up – I think at the time I always say Sandra Dee was the person we all looked to. She was just so beautiful, and no one else looked like that – maybe Carol Lynley a little bit – but the bar was set very high. With that, you’re insecure anyways because you’re at that age, and more than anything you don't want to be different. I think that's true for a lot of kids. So the maturing, that part of development, was difficult when I look back. You don't have the confidence that you had as a little kid when you don't think about anything. You become all self-conscious about how you look, if you're thin enough, if you’re pretty enough, if your hair looks nice. It's a little bit of an adjustment to get through all that and go back to what you like to do, which is to pretend, and take the focus off what you look like or who you look like or any of that stuff. I don't know if other kid actors had the same experience, but usually people grow out of a look that made them known – most of us anyway, not all of us. 

I know when you left Hollywood you went back to Brooklyn and finished high school there. What was that experience like for you?

PM: Well, I took my real name back, and I was going to the high school that my mother and older sister went to, so I was really excited. This is going to sound so weird, but it was almost like playing a part – I was playing the part of a high school student. My real name is Russo, so I was Patty Russo. The experience was really kind of shocking, because I think they expected me to be very conceited, and so I had to hide in the cafeteria in the early days, because it was Brooklyn and they were pretty tough – they were on me! But I made a best friend who helped me navigate through it, and it turned into a nice experience finally. I was glad to have had that.

Then I came back out here [Los Angeles], and I stayed with a friend of my mother's family for a while. I wound up leaving Utrecht [her Brooklyn high school] – it’s a long story – but I did a soap opera in between while I was going to Utrecht, and that was kind of tricky because they weren't flexible like California was. In California they were used to kid actors, and in New York at that time, they really weren't. Then when I came out here, I went back to finish high school at Hollywood Professional and got my diploma that way. But I'm so glad I got to go back to Brooklyn. I'm pleased about that.

It sounds like you had a pretty grounded childhood, especially in attending a regular high school. Do you think that helped how you adjusted when you returned to the film industry?

PM: It was a little bit too grounded, I think! I came from a really good family. I never thought that I was a big deal, and they [her mom and dad] made sure of that. So, coming back to the industry after, I really didn't know the ropes. People handled all that before – the only thing I knew was what I did, and so some things maybe didn't get handled so well, but I learned on my feet when I came back out here. Then I married my childhood boyfriend and we had our children, and I kept working.

Yes, you’ve worked steadily since then.

PM: I did work a lot! It’s true. Nothing on the level of nominations, but I was a journeyman, I like to say.

You've spent six decades in the industry, which is really astounding, especially since you started as a child. I read an interview from 1974 that featured a humorous quote from you that I’d like to share. You said that you lamented that you never got the guy in movies and just once you wanted to “kiss the guys instead of kill them.”

PM: That is funny!

But throughout your career, you played Helen Keller, you played a career woman in THE BEST OF EVERYTHING (’70), you played Pat Nixon more recently in FROST/NIXON (’08), so you've had a lot of experience with different characters. Was there any genre or any type of character that you wish you could explore further?

PM: Well, I'll tell you the truth, it's actually seven decades from when I started, although if you want to make me younger, I don't mind! At this point in time, I'm so grateful when I work, because there could be nothing now, you know? I do enjoy what comes along. The only thing I never got to do, which I would have loved, was to have been in a habit – I would have loved to have played a nun in a habit.

That’s interesting.

PM: Isn’t it? It’s the Catholic school thing.

We’ll have to find you a role like that!

PM: I know, wouldn't that be fun? And it would be a nice way, in your later years, to go from a killer to a nun, you know? I think it would be a good idea.

Going in the right direction!

PM: Yes! But anyways, little things change here and there, and I sometimes do voiceovers, and I did something recently that I had never done, which was so much fun. Did you notice on Netflix a show called ARSENE LUPIN [working title for LUPIN]?

I haven’t heard of it, but I know there’s an old movie with the same name.

PM: Yes, this is a remake. It's in French, and I dubbed a French woman into English, and it was so much fun to do, to have someone else's face up there. I know some people watch foreign movies and they say, “Oh it's so unfair to dub the other actors,” and I probably wouldn't love it if somebody dubbed me either, but I had such a ball doing it. So, if you catch that show, you'll see somewhere in there I'm speaking English for a French woman.  

I wanted to talk about two of your more recent roles. I know you starred in MOMMY in the 1990s, kind of a grown-up Rhoda, and you played a psychiatrist in the Lifetime remake of THE BAD SEED in 2018. This story has been filmed a few times; what do you think resonates with people, and how did it feel going back to that character and story but from different perspectives?

PM: Right. Well, to be honest, the Rob Lowe production [for Lifetime] was really a totally different story. There was no mom – he was the mom character – so the writing was really different.

There were two MOMMY movies: MOMMY (’95) and MOMMY’S DAY (’97). Those were written by a writer who lives in Muscatine, Iowa: Max Allan Collins. This is a long time ago now, but it was fun to grow her up, you know, physically. I talked to you about how that is the strange thing about transitioning, and it was so enjoyable to do that. It really was a journey for me internally.

There was also something about shaking hands with that, because in my day, it was never a good thing to have something so long ago be talked about all the time. I got that impression by other people's opinions, not my own, and as time went on, the world changed and people started knowing actors’ work from 20 years ago. So, the appreciation for that old work came back, and I learned to feel good about it through other people's feelings about it. I do have such a different perspective on it now, and it's a character that was so special. That really changed my ability as to how I could hold it [the role].

It’s nice to be able to do that.

PM: Yes, it is. 

I have one more question for you. I know we’re in a pandemic and many productions are halted, but do you have any upcoming appearances that I can share with fans to look out for? 

PM: Aw, I wish! It's funny, I did some Hallmark Christmas movies. Well, I did one, and then last year I was supposed to do another one, and they cut our parts because of COVID. So, I'm rooting for [the next one], and I have a good feeling, you know, when we have our vaccinations. Also, a downside was that they shoot in Canada, and they have to bring you up there, and at that time you had to stay in 14 days.

A lot of rules!

PM: Yes, a lot of rules. So hopefully there will be a new one. I can't honestly say, but there's no reason there shouldn't be!

My dad loves the Hallmark Christmas movies, and I watch a lot of them because of him, so I'll be rooting for you and looking out for you!

PM: I know, there's so many. People have blankets and all these things! There are real hard-core fans – it's amazing.

#patty mccormack #child actors #TCM #Turner Classic Movies #The bad seed #kim luperi #growing up on screen #acting #actor

[peggyrose19]

Day 24: Secret Santa

Happy Christmas Eve everyone!! I can’t believe it’s here already, feels like it was March just yesterday. I am very excited for this. Because the prompt for today is Secret Santa, I thought what better time to post my SW Discord Secret Santa! It was written as a gift for the wonderful @im-oknutzy-trash. I had an amazing time writing this and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do. Prompt from @remus-john-lupin, characters and AU from the amazing @lumosinlove. This is the last advent fic I’ll be doing, and I’m so so grateful to all of you that have kept up with them all, it really means a lot. Hope you all have a wonderful holiday, ily guys 😘 

Logan had it all planned out.

The tree, the lights, the food. 

The rings.

The only problem was actually executing his plan. And keeping it a secret until Christmas Eve. 

He had been doing well for the first week or so. Of course, the rings hadn’t arrived yet, so maybe that was why. But once he had them, hidden away in his sock drawer in his bedroom, it all suddenly became urgent, a heavy presence he could feel hanging over him anytime he entered the apartment. 

With each day, the urgency grew and grew. He could feel it every waking moment, and even when he was asleep, the pressure and nerves and need to keep it secret. The problem, of course, was that Logan was terrible at keeping secrets. 

He knew Finn and Leo could feel him pulling away. He had hoped it wasn’t too obvious, but the looks on their faces when he forced a laugh or a smile, or cut off their kisses too soon, distancing himself as best he could. Because he knew that if he kissed them for too long, if he allowed himself to fall into that endless pit of love and desire, he would ask them right then and there, consequences be damned, and his planning would all go to waste. 

So he stayed silent, stayed away as best he could, trying not to hurt them. 

A week and a half before Christmas Leo and Finn confronted him. 

“Logan, what’s going on?” Finn asked at dinner.

“Quoi?” Logan asked, looking up from his food. 

“You’ve been acting weird for weeks,” Leo explained. “Is something going on, are you okay?”

“Oh! No, I’m fine.” His heart pounded, hoping they would believe him, mind going to the box in his dresser. He forced the image away.

But Finn pushed. “Is it us? Are we doing something wrong?”

“What? Nonono, you two are perfect. It’s not- I’m fine, I promise.”

“Logan, we know something’s wrong!” Finn exclaimed frustratedly. “I know you, I can tell when you’re not saying something.” Logan just sighed heavily. It wasn’t like he could tell them the truth. He hadn’t thought he would make it this far before blurting it out, honestly. But he had and now Finn was upset with him and Leo looked sad and uncertain and he wasn’t sure what to do now. 

“I’m fine, okay?” he said, harsher than he meant, and Leo flinched back a bit. “Sorry,” he said immediately. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. But truly, nothing is going on.”

“Lo-” Finn whispered and fell silent. Both of them were staring at him. 

“Fuck,” Logan muttered, and got up from the table. 

Leo and Finn watched him go, dumbfounded, unsure what to do now. But Logan was back a moment later, a small box clutched in his hand. He ran his free hand through his hair, sighing. 

“I had a plan, to do this on Christmas Eve with the tree and lights and- whatever, there was a whole plan. But you two are too fucking smart I guess.” He smiled ruefully. “Finn, Leo, I love you both so so much. Like, more than anything. I don’t know what I would do without you. And....” he trailed off. Leo and Finn exchanged a confused glance. “Well, merde, here we go.”

In one smooth movement, he dropped to his knee, opening the box in his hands, two silver rings sitting on the velvet inside. 

Leo’s hands went to his mouth, Finn reaching out blindly to grip his shoulder. Leo grabbed his hand. Both of them were staring at Logan.

“Mon amours, will you marry me?”

It was quiet for a long time, Finn and Leo left staring in complete amazement. This was not what they had expected when they started dinner. 

“Lo,” Finn whispered, staring at him, tears shining in his eyes. “Holy shit. Holy shit.”

And then he rushed at Logan, collapsing into his arms and kissing him senseless, nearly knocking both of them over. In the next moment, Leo was there too, wrapping his arms around both of them, kissing any part of Logan he could reach, heart pounding wildly

“I love you I love you I love you,” Finn murmured over and over, words slurring together as he kissed Logan's cheeks and neck and lips, unable to get enough.

“So is that a yes?” Logan choked out and both boys paused.

“Of course it’s a yes, baby,” Leo sniffed, fighting back tears

“Yes yes, a thousand times yes,” Finn added and Logan could’ve cried with relief and joy, because the loves of his life just agreed to marry him and never in a million years had he ever imagined this happening. An overwhelming sense of love washed over him, and he was so fucking grateful that he had found them, that they found each other, and they can be together and happy and married.

Never in a million years had any of them imagined this would happen. But there they were, together, crying and laughing and kissing, Logan sliding rings on their fingers, falling tangled to the floor in a mess of frantic hands and wet kisses. Logan never wanted to move again. 

~

Leo fought the urge to pace as he listened to the phone ringing. Logan and Finn were waiting for him in their bedroom, urging him to call before they went to bed. His heart was pounding.  He wasn’t quite sure why. But he was excited and in love and possibly a little bit drunk. There was a click as the line connected.

“Mama?” he asked, fighting to keep his voice steady.

“Hey, baby!” her familiar voice chirped, and he relaxed marginally. “What’s goin’ on with you?”

“Um, well I have some news.”

“Oh! Well, the last time you had some ‘news’ it was to tell us about Finn and Leo.” Leo couldn’t fight a small laugh. He could sense his mom narrowing her eyes at that. “What kind of news do you have exactly?”

“The good kind,” he promised, unable to fight a smile. 

“I’ll go get your father, shall I?”

“Yeah, yeah I think you should.” It was quiet for a few moments, before Leo heard his dad talking faintly, presumably asking who was on the phone.

“Okay, he’s here,” her voice came back louder. 

“Hey bud,” Wyatt said, “What’s this news you have?”

“Um…” he trailed off, unsure how to say it. He scrubbed a hand over his face, unsure why he was so nervous all of a sudden. His parents had been nothing but supportive, so why was he freezing?

“Leo?” 

“Sorry. Um… well, Logan, uh, he proposed tonight.” 

The phone went dead silent for a long moment, and all Leo heard was the pounding of his heart. Then his mother shrieked and the dam broke. 

“Oh my god, really? Baby, that’s amazing!” 

“Did you say yes? I’m assuming you said yes, considering how happy you are.”

“Yeah Dad, I said yes,” Leo laughed, pressing a hand to his cheek. His face hurt from smiling. He wasn’t sure he was ever going to stop smiling. “Both of us did.”

“Aww my baby’s getting married!” his mom shrieked, and Leo could just imagine the elated look on both of their faces. 

“Le, that’s so exciting!” his dad exclaimed. All Leo could do was laugh. 

“Have you set a date yet?”

“No, Mom, he just asked a few hours ago,” he laughed, shaking his head. “You guys are the first ones I’ve told.”

“Oh, honey, that’s amazing.”

“Yeah. I’m really excited.” 

“Oh, well we should let you get back to your boys, call us in the morning okay? I want to hear everything.”

“Okay, I will,” he promised.

“And honey, I am so proud of you. So proud.” 

“Thanks, Mama. I love you, both of you.”

“We love you too, honey.” 

~

After Leo hung up, setting his phone down on the coffee table, he sat for a moment, taking it all in. His parents knew, they were excited and happy. He never could have imagined this happening.

He sighed happily, pushing himself off the couch and heading for the bedroom. His boys were in bed, Logan lying on top of Finn with his face buried in the crook of his neck. But he looked up as Leo padded into the room, smiling sweetly up at him.

“Hey Peanut,” he sighed. “How’d it go?”

“They were really excited,” Leo said, grinning. He climbed onto the bed beside them, slotting himself against Finn’s side and running a soft hand through Logan’s hair, leaning into the both of them. “My mom wanted to know if we’d set a date yet.” Logan laughed at that, Finn smiling down at him. 

“Nah, we got time.” 

“So much time.” 

Finn held up his hand, admiring the silver band sitting on his finger. “I can’t believe it’s really happening,” he sighed. Logan grasped his hand, fiddling with the ring. 

“Me neither,” he admitted. 

A thought occurred to Finn just then. “Lo, we both have rings, but did you get one for yourself?”

Logan could only laugh, shaking his head. “I knew you were gonna ask that,” he muttered. “Yes, Fish, I got myself a ring too. It’s in my bedroom. You’re so ridiculous.”

“Hey! Who are you calling ridiculous?” 

“Both of you.” Leo grinned, leaning up to kiss the pout off Finn’s face, feeling Logan’s lips on his jaw as he did. “I love you both,” he murmured. “So fucking much.” 

“We love you too, Nutter Butter.” 

“I can’t believe we’re getting married.”

“I can’t believe you two ruined my proposal.”

“What do you mean?”

“Fucking- I had a plan! It was all romantic and shit, and then you two ruined it by getting all concerned.” 

“Well, what was your plan?” 

Logan grumbled for a moment before reluctantly responding. “I was gonna ask on Christmas Eve, y’know, after we’d read The Night Before Christmas and were on the couch watching cheesy movies with the lights all off except the tree. There was gonna be cookies and hot chocolate and it was gonna be super romantic. I was gonna leave you both speechless for the rest of the night!” he finished, sweeping an arm out dramatically. “And then you went and got worried. I was doing so good too.” Finn could hear the pout in Logan’s voice. 

“Aw, mon rouge,” Leo crooned, kissing his temple. “It’s okay. You can always do it again in a week.” 

“Hmph.” 

“Now come here so I can kiss you properly.” Logan rolled his eyes but pushed himself up, leaning over to Leo and kissing him sweetly, pushing him back against the bed. 

“I love you,” Leo whispered. Finn smiled as he watched them, content to just look at them, feeling the weight of Logan still on top of him, the heat of Leo beside him. He looked at the ring on his finger, the matching one on Leo’s hand, imagining the one that would soon be on Logan’s finger too. It was more than he’d ever dreamed of, more than he’d ever thought he would have. And he knew without asking that his fiancés felt the same. 

They were so incredibly lucky.

#o'knutzy #sweater weather #coast to coast #lumosinlove #proposal #christmas eve #fluff #love #so much love #they're so adorable i can't #im-oknutzy-trash #secret santa #remus john lupin #advent #december 24

[missorgana]

everything i do (gonna think of you)

pairing: finn/poe dameron

fandom: star wars (sequel trilogy

rating: teen and up

word count: 4690

warning: swearing, alcohol

summary: Finn and Poe are on a break. Neither of them are okay. But Finn hears Poe singing about him on the radio, and they'll be okay. Always. (musician poe, artist finn, long distance break-up + getting back together)

(it’s been ages but my space bfs, it’s good to be back!! a long overdue installment in my finnpoe alphabet series. did not expect e to be the most difficult letter to work with !!! thank you to Cat / @wendigostag​ as ALWAYS for beta reading and supporting my messy ideas 🥰 love uuuu. enjoy??)

read on ao3

“And now for the moment you’ve all been waiting for, I’m sure!”

The audience erupts in a half-laughter, half-cheer, and the host smiles, looking a bit too tired for his age.

“Tonight’s special performance is by someone who has, quite frankly, taken the whole of America - and dare I say the world? - by storm!”

Previous cheers resurface, louder and more certain than before. Even a few wolf whistles, making the presenter laugh as well.

“Here to perform his new single ‘cardigan’ from the debut album ‘folklore’, Poe Dameron!”

Quite literally everyone in the studio goes crazy, and as the camera directs towards the stage, a light turns on and reveals the curly haired man in all his glory.

He smiles slyly to the audience. A few noises, bordering on the line of screaming, makes him chuckle, but he puts all his focus on the guitar. Snaps, strums, and as the piano starts accompanying him, a soft voice forming strange and unfamiliar words.

Finn wipes the tear away in frustration before it even gets a chance to move, just tiny droplets stinging his vision. He’s sniffling, and biting his cheek, staring at the already half-empty bottle of red wine on the table.

Never in his life has he ever felt more pathetic, that’s true.

He doesn’t know why he’s watching this. And judging by the two texts pinging in on his phone, his best friend Rey somehow knows he’s doing it, too.

His vision’s too blurry to type, he thinks. Fuck it, pour another glass of wine. Who cares?

On the screen, Poe smiles while singing each word. But Finn knows the man better than anyone in that studio to know that it’s not really a smile. It’s the kind that his boyfriend- ex-boyfriend put on at their last FaceTime call. The one where he suggested they took a break.

He figures he should turn off the television when the performance comes to an end. No need to rub anymore salt in the wound, as Rey said.

Yet Finn sticks around for the interview because… because what? He hates himself? He hates Poe?

Neither. Maybe he misses him. Of course he misses him, enough to fight back the sobs, far from sober. But he’ll fight that obvious realisation, as well.

“Thank you for coming in tonight!” the host tells the singer, who thanks him in turn for the opportunity. Always the golden boy. The image of polite, kind, heart full of love, yet so goddamn stubborn.

“Mothers love me.” Poe had told him, back in college, the smug idiot. Finn’s mother loves him.

It’s mostly questions about the album, the upcoming tour, pictures of his parents and his pearly whites gleam when he speaks of them, how proud they are of him. It envelops Finn like a warm embrace. Huh. They haven’t hugged in five months.

They haven’t seen each other in five months.

Then the host starts grinning like a maniac, and he’s got a hunch what’s coming now is what he’s been wanting to ask all along, “Evidently, you got a lot of ladies who love you here.”

Audience cheers. Poe runs a hand through his hair. He’s so nervous, it’s adorable.

“You got a special lady in your life?” a question that quiets the audience significantly, still, waiting.

The singer glances at his shoes like they’re the most fascinating thing in the universe. Finn can’t hold his glass still, because, yeah. He looks like he’s thinking about it too hard. He wants to save him from that situation.

And although it feels like a million years pass, it’s probably only ten seconds before the reply settles, “Not at the moment, no.”

The crowd is nothing less than thrilled. And not only women, as the host implied, nah, everyone in that studio recognizes what a heartthrob Poe Dameron is. Finn couldn’t agree more.

What he knows about his ex-boyfriend that the strangers in the TV don’t know is, obviously, that Poe’s not interested in the ladies.

So does his family and close friends, anyone out of show business, really.

He also knows why his ex-boyfriend isn’t out to the public about his sexuality, yet. Or he’s got an idea. Maybe. Finn convinces himself of that, because then, he can also convince himself that he’s not the only one still feeling he’s being torn to pieces by this breakup. Feels better.

*

Although the screen connecting to his boyfriend’s call tugs on his heartstrings with its familiar warmth, Finn is, above all, pissed.

And for some reason, he feels ashamed for that. He knows he shouldn’t.

Poe hasn’t been home in a month. He was supposed to be here two weeks ago, but due to press bookings, credit to his boyfriend’s brand new agent, he called Finn late at night apologising like a broken record and promising to make it up to him.

And it makes him feel like shit.

Every apology made him feel more guilty for… harboring his time. Which is crazy, because they’ve been going steady for three years. They talked about this, the possibility of long distance, and knew, definitely, that it was gonna be hard, especially since they’ve been attached by the hip for so long.

Thing is, this has happened three times now, and it’s made Finn question himself.

Is he good enough for Poe? then later, another thought creeps in, Is Poe tired of him? or… is he not in love with him anymore?

Finn feels like he’s going crazy.

And even when he sees his boyfriend’s soft curls and eyes full of sunshine pop on his phone, it’s those thoughts that still inhabit his head. Fuck.

“Baby!” Poe says, excitement gleaming right through him and into Finn’s bedroom. They’ve been talking about moving in together, but, well, with long distance, mostly only talk for now. He’s off chasing the fame, which he deserves more than anyone, thank you very much, and Finn’s already booked up with art galleries and auctions eagerly grasping for his paintings. It feels like they’ve made it.

Except, “Phasma’s got me on Jimmy Kimmel! Like, can you believe that?!” his boyfriend spills out everything from this week, and it warms Finn’s chest, his gut, all the way down to his toes. But at the same time, this being Poe’s first words to him stirs weirdly alongside that warmth.

His career’s important. Of course. Finn’s happy for him, like, over the moon, all the way across the solar system happy.

He wants him to be successful. So then… then why does it feel like Poe prioritises it over them? It’s probably him overthinking it, he reasons. Again.

Finn can definitely feel he’s supposed to be sleeping right now; that’s another thing, cursed with being in vastly different time zones. He listens, smiling half-tiredly, thoughts wandering to everything and nothing.

Which is why he finds himself, all of a sudden, replying to his boyfriend’s, “I, uh, I’m actually writing you another song. Don’t laugh, please,” with, “A secret kind of song? ”

It takes Poe by surprise, visibly, and it takes himself, as well.

Finn bites down on his tongue in the cringe of it all. His boyfriend’s blinking, slowly, probably waiting for some sort of elaboration, but when he has no idea what to say, Poe inquires, “What do you mean?”

He sighs. Wholeheartedly, wistfully, nostalgic.

Finn thinks about when Poe asked him out, driving up to his window in true cheesy romantic comedy style and having offered to write essays in exchange for a school marching band performance.

Their first date, eating cotton candy and the curly haired boy insisting on trying and failing to win Finn a prize, until finally facing defeat. He won Poe a prize instead, first try, so the previous grumpiness faded in a matter of seconds. The butterflies threatened to burst his stomach the entire day.

Their first time, clumsy and awkward, teeth clanging in kisses and stupid buttons in Finn’s shirt being stuck and they laughed until they were out of breath. It was more perfect than anything either of them could’ve imagined.

He thinks about this, because neither of them were out before they got together.

This coming out thing? It scared the shit out of Finn. He was so lucky to have a supportive family, supportive friends. The school was a mixed experience, but he and Poe were in it together. His boyfriend tried to play it cool, but he knew how scared he was, too. He knows like the back of his hand, almost.

And this concern, it makes him feel so guilty he might vomit.

“I just… I was just wondering if you wanted to be official.”

“We are official, Finn.”

“No, I-I mean, public.”

He gulps around the growing lump in his throat. Poe goes scarily quiet.

This is also something they’ve talked about before. Fame is so new, it’s a whole new leap, learning how to handle all this, so it didn’t bother either of them to be secretive about their relationship, so to speak.

Their close network still knew, obviously, but the music industry, Hollywood, that’s way, way different than Finn’s newly established and growing network of artist connections and colleagues.

It wasn’t a problem. Until it was.

Coming out is personal. But ever since his boyfriend said he wanted to go public, then didn’t, as they were both on edge, then decided they should move in together and go public to slam down journalists linking Poe to a member of a girl group he met last summer, then didn’t.

It’s happened a couple of times. And finally, it seems, Finn is coming to terms with being tired of being ready and then backing out.

He’s terrified. Terrified of Poe being embarrassed of him, which he knows sounds crazy, also. But fuck.

“Baby, we’re gonna do it,” his boyfriend reassures him, but he’s distraught now, “You know we are. My agent just talks about my image, you know, I need to make sure-”

“Your image?”

That… that pisses Finn off. Conclusively. Because what the fuck?

“Phasma thinks we should do it at Christmas, season of love, you know?” Poe smiles shyly, he always loved the holidays. And he just doesn’t know how to react. “She’s fine with it, like, she didn’t ask me to fake being straight, like the guy I talked with before. Just-

“Are you embarrassed of me, Poe?” he finds the words slipping out before he can stop his mouth.

His boyfriend’s eyes widen significantly on the small screen, opens and closes his mouth several times, and there’s definitely a yell from somewhere in the studio, but Poe ignores it completely, “Of course not. Finn, I’m the luckiest guy in the world because of you. I just really… really think we need to time this right.”

“I,” Finn starts, but he’s barely sure where he’s going with the sentence. All he knows is that he’s scared Poe might tell him that all this time meant nothing to him. He doesn’t know why he leaps to that, but he does. His boyfriend might find something better than him in the limelight, “I know. You’ve told me, and I get it, I do. It’s just difficult being so far away from you, and then…”

He feels himself drifting off into a cloud of numbness and nothing, but Poe interrupts the sentence, “I thought you’d be more supportive of my career.” Finn nearly jumps. The words don’t sound cold, per say. But it’s weird. The good old butterflies flutter hesitantly, sort of in question.

“I am, darling, I-” he sighs again, “I’ve always been. You’ve just seemed like you’re ready, and I got the feeling that your agent didn’t want you to, and-” “Phasma wants it.”

“But on Christmas, Poe. This Christmas. I’m just scared you’re…” Finn shakes his head at himself, decides to be completely honest, because that’s how relationships work. Right? “Waiting for the moment to end this.”

“End this?” his boyfriend’s voice raises just an octave, looking perpetually confused. He also, admittedly, looks pissed. Hurt. “Do you want to break up with me?”

“No! Why would I-

“You’re the one who brought it up.”

Finn rubs his eyes, feels like they’re on goddamn fire. Poe’s biting his lips, rummaging around after moving what he assumes is a more private room than before, and avoiding eye contact. They shouldn’t be doing this on the phone. They shouldn’t be doing this at all.

He wishes his boyfriend was next to him, so he could curl up on his chest and sleep the entire weekend. It’s all he wants.

Ultimately, Finn makes the suggestion, “Baby, I’m sorry, I just… why don’t I call you next time you’re free? Or can you… are you getting back anytime soon?”

He doesn’t know how to describe this feeling, what’s happening, in any other way than it seems like Poe’s on a different planet than him, drifting in a meteor rain.

What Finn doesn’t expect least of all is his boyfriend’s answer, “Nah, you know, if you feel like that, we should take a break. A breather.”

And Poe smiles, but he sees through that bullshit. It doesn’t reach his eyes.

He’s trying to play it cool. Fuck. Why are Finn’s eyes stinging, now?

“A break?”

“Yeah.”

That’s so much to process. Fucking process it. The protests are bubbling under his skin, boiling and ice cold at the same time, but he doesn’t get the time when the yells on the end of the world resume.

“I really should go.” Poe tells him, but he doesn’t sound like he wants to.

“Poe…” he tries to breathe around the butterflies currently panicking inside of him. He’d scream at them to stop for just five seconds, if he could. His boyfriend’s already getting up from the seat, which is why Finn pinches the bridge of his nose and tries not to look at him, “Okay. Okay.”

The silence that settles between them, then, until they end the call in confusion and boiled up emotion, is far from the comfort they’ve been accustomed to. It ends without a goodbye. Without an I love you.

So, naturally, he gets absolutely zero sleep that night.

*

Whenever Rey told them they were being overdramatic, she was probably right. This is no exception.

Ever since the damnation of their FaceTime call, Finn tried to get into his head what went down. Namely, him and his boyfriend speaking over each other’s heads. It settles in the morning, the realisation that Poe assumed the worst of what he said, while he himself didn’t understand why he couldn’t come home . Just one day. Just to talk this out.

But in a recognizable stubborn fashion, his boyfriend ignored his calls and texts for the weekend. Finn tried so, so hard not to get pissed again. But also, Poe actively avoiding him made him want to cry. Not being able to just hear his voice made him want to cry.

Naturally, the following week, when his boyfriend decided to reach out, Finn became the one to ignore all forms of contact. It felt like they were walking in circles.

This is new and raw territory.

Finn and Poe don’t fight. It’s a basic law of the universe. 

Which is why he doesn’t blame Rey for widening her eyes in shock at this new development. He also knows that she wants to intervene, badly so, given how protective she is of them, but because she’s lovely she always somehow knows when Finn needs his own space to think. Or scream into the void a little bit, whatever does the trick.

He’s pretty sure she didn’t expect this to go on for four months, now. He sure as hell didn’t expect it.

But… they’re both to blame. Finn’s pretty much dug himself a hole in the ground filling up with all his feelings, and as every week passes by, waits for his boyfriend to make the first move. He expects Poe to do the same. Nothing’s moving forward.

So, if Rey didn’t know him as she did, she’d ask him why.

Why don’t you just call him? He could. When his boyfriend stopped ignoring him, that is. Thing is, Finn’s world is sort of crumbling right now, and a confrontation with that isn’t something he can handle, he thinks.

It’s the thought of losing Poe for good. It’s the thought of Poe thinking Finn doesn’t want him anymore, when in fact he fears the exact opposite.

After watching that interview, though, he could breathe a little easier, he’ll admit.

And it’s weird. He felt inherently about a hundred times worse during it. The day after, he just kept thinking about Poe and his stupid curls and his nervous smile and what he might be doing while Finn was helping his sister with the dishes.

Maybe it’s knowing his boyfriend- ex-boyfriend (?) is okay. Does look more okay than himself.

It calms him. The next day, it makes Finn want to burn up all their polaroids and mail the ashes to the singers’ hotel in a massive envelope. As said before, this hole is deep, too deep, making it difficult to be rational.

A week after the interview, he’s just about on the edge to complete numbness.

Maybe he’s been reading those hilarious dumb gossip magazines whenever his boyfriend was on the cover. Shut up. If he acknowledges the ridiculousness of that, it’ll only make it worse.

Finn feels weak for being this torn up after a breakup… or break. He’s had breakups before Poe, but none of them hurt like this. Does it ever just fucking stop?

Apparently not, because when he picks up the phone with Rey’s name flashing, Finn expects it to be another question of what’s going on. How he’s doing, or not even a question, but an order to let her in as she’s probably already standing in front of his building carrying ice cream and bad horror movies.

He doesn’t get why she doesn’t just use the key he got her already, but it’s still endearing. Except, “Turn on the radio.”

“What?

“Finn, turn on your radio. Trust me.”

And so he scrambles around, the determination in her voice definitely not something to mess around with. Finn eventually uncovers it underneath the mountain of Poe’s vinyl records, and while his best friend doesn’t even tell him what station she’s referring to, he’s got a feeling about it. Also, it’s the first station that pops through the speakers when he turns it on, so.

Then, he has absolutely no idea what to listen for. The hosts are making some jokes about the song they’re gonna play next, thereozing about a “lost love” , and Finn’s about to ask until he realises Rey’s hung up on him, and a text.

just wait. u won’t regret it.

It’s too ominous for his best friend’s usual shenanigans. He’s a little worried.

But unlike the last hellish, unbelievable four months, Finn doesn’t have much time to worry, before the voices announce, “We present an exclusive live performance from our new favorite heartthrob, Poe Dameron!”

Oh God. Oh God, oh shit, oh my god.

Naturally, Finn’s anxiety kicks in like a punch in his gut.

In fact, he’s about to pull up his best friend’s contact again, sick of hearing the single that Poe wrote for him and not even being able to revel in the feeling anymore. Only it’s not ‘cardigan’.

Four months ago, a few days before they decided to take a break, his boyfriend sent him a couple of voice notes, containing lyrics and guitar pieces and other bits for the album he wanted Finn’s approval on. He always wanted his opinion first. It makes him all warm again.

This song, however, is brand new, unheard to everyone’s ears. Including Finn.

  “I'm doing good, I'm on some new shit

Been saying "yes" instead of "no"

I thought I saw you at the bus stop, I didn't though

I hit the ground running each night

I hit the Sunday matinée

You know the greatest films of all time were never made”

  The melody has the same calm like the other songs he’s heard, an image of fairytales and bare feet dancing in the woods and stars twinkling in the night.

The melancholy is unfamiliar, though.

  “I guess you never know, never know

And if you wanted me, you really should've showed

And if you never bleed, you're never gonna grow

And it's alright now”

  Finn’s thumb hovers over Rey’s contact name, but he can’t bring himself to move.

It’s the alright part. Except, despite how much he tries to lie to himself, he swears to everything god that his boyfriend’s voice breaks over the word. It’s subtle enough that the interviewers could pass it on as him being hoarse, he reasons, but Poe can’t fool him.

He wants him to be okay. Actually, no, because being okay means not missing Finn like Finn misses him, and that would hurt more than anything he can imagine. But also, he’s too far away for a reassuring hand. That’s why he wants him to be okay.

  “But we were something, don't you think so?

Roaring twenties, tossing pennies in the pool

And if my wishes came true

It would've been you”

  For some reason, it’s only then it settles into Finn’s mind.

Oh.

Oh.

The song keeps going, and his emotions keep going, from the chaotic jumbled mess he’s become accustomed to a quiet buzz. He feels like his breathing’s slowed down, and a pocket in his heart is being emptied onto the floor.

Poe feels exactly the same way, he imagines. He has to.

Finn’s abandoned his phone somewhere unknown between the couch cushions, and he’s stuck staring at the empty wine bottle he hasn’t had the energy to get rid of, his microwave dinner half eaten, until his ex-boyfriend’s song comes to an end.

‘the 1’ is the title. He doesn’t know if he’s crying or not, which sounds a bit dumb in his own head.

“Poe Dameron!” one of the interviewers yells obnoxiously, clearly trying to hold in their excited giggling, “Those were quite emotional lyrics. I’m guessing there’s a story there somewhere?”

Finn could roll his eyes into the next century at that comment. Jesus Christ.

The singer’s complained about these kinds of people before, of course, he chuckles, politely, hesitantly, probably spinning the best way to avoid opening that door of vulnerability on open air, “I think everyone writes from their own experience, really.”

His voice has the same elegance and softness and gruff that makes Finn think of home, despite the tinny speakers and distraction that vibes off of him, all the way over in the states. It’s unbelievable.

The interview keeps going in the most standard way possible, a couple more questions Poe subtly circles around (including about dating, obviously), some jokes, and they eventually get to that segment where the listeners can call in and ask their own question to the dreamy man.

Some are boring, some are weird, some are intrusive, some are just teen voices in awe of his relatability and what not, mountains of flattery which his boyfriend is all too shy and starstruck to handle.

Finn bites his lip.

They repeat the number of the radio twice. The programme ends at nine. That means about forty five minutes of fan questions.

He shouldn’t. This is ridiculous. But what if… what?

Poe’s voice somehow carries his hand to fish the phone up again, though, like a strike of magic. And then the tone sounds, one, two, three, and it’s too late to take it back now. Shit.

“You’re live! Can our next lucky listener introduce yourself and your question?”

He tries so hard, desperately so, to swallow around the lump in his throat, seeming impossibly massive. The eerie silence is simply too painful to bear, though, so Finn squeezes his eyes shut hard for two seconds, before forcing the reply out.

“Yes, uh, hi. This is Finn Solo. From Pennsylvania.”

A beat. “Pennsylvania?! Well, honey, that’s actually Poe Dameron’s home state, isn’t it?”

Two beats. The singer clears his throat. “Yeah.” Clearly, he recognizes his voice in an instant. Well, obviously, he’d be shocked if he didn’t. Still, Finn feels like curling up in a ball and hiding from the world. He wonders if Rey’s listening, right now.

The interviewer seems unfazed from Poe’s hesitated answer, or they just choose to ignore it, he supposes. “The floor is yours, Finn. Ask ahead!”

So… how is he supposed to do this, again? 

This is the worst idea Finn’s had in his entire life. Seriously. And he accepted Rey’s dare to swing all the way up and around the swingset in fifth grade, he’s well aware of what reckless looks like. This is it.

Still, he’s stuck now. Poe’s listening to him. Kind of forced to.

And against his own better judgement, Finn silences the million overthinking thoughts in his inner ear by simply saying whatever hits him first, “Did you mean what you said? In the song?”

Seconds feel like fucking hours right now.

“Sorry, can you-” one of the hosts start, but he feels moved to continue. “When did you write it?”

It’s low, the feedback of his boyfriend’s microphone can just be made out. He prays that was only comprehensible enough for Poe’s own ears, because Finn could never possibly live with himself if he outed the person he loves most in the world. Seems so, given the interviewer once again asks the singer in confusion.

“What do you say, Poe? Do you need, uh… for him to elaborate?”

“No.” the man says simply, shyness seemingly having faded away in a glimpse. “Finn, I wrote this back in May.”

Four months ago. Same month as their FaceTime call.

“Only a week after our call. Took me five hours. I needed to get every word just right.” Poe says those words so steadily it shocks Finn. His hand feels numb and itchy around the tiny device, and one of the hosts gasps.

“I-” he starts, but has no idea where to go, where to turn. Finn didn’t expect any of this tonight. A deep breath is needed, “Do you mean… you wrote it about me?”

He feels like an absolute idiot for asking, even doubting it, but given the emotional rollercoaster he’s been through up until now, he’s grasping for straws of confirmation. Poe chuckles, barely audible.

“All my songs are about you, darling.”

What the fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Another gasp is heard in the studio, a little louder this time, but he sends a silent thanks, still, to them being too taken aback to intervene.

Okay, these are definitely tears in Finn’s eyes, now.

One rolls down, cool against his hot cheek, and he almost wants to laugh widely, processing what’s happening over and over in his brain.

What’s mostly replaying is the nickname that he’s missed… too much.

If they were in the same room, in front of each other, alone , he could say and ask a million things. This conversation is impossibly too vulnerable for open air, but Finn really thinks, really, that this step was needed. At least, it’s something he’s been longing to hear.

Instead of breaking down in the happiness and sadness he’s feeling, instead of talking about the miscommunication they’ve been the victim of, he smiles. Can’t stop. It’s hurting his whole face, actually, but his chest feels endlessly lighter.

“If… uh,” Finn chuckles at himself again, him and his stupid emotions, probably laced obviously in his voice, “Is there a chance that you still want to write songs about me?”

Poe laughs back, warmer and wobblier than before. “Of course. Of-fucking-course. There’s no one else I’d rather write about.”

Those hosts over there are probably freaking out big time, but Finn can’t bring himself to care much.

They sigh rather in unison. Him and his boyfriend. Breathing shaky and yet steadying themselves, almost. Together.

“Okay. Okay. Thank fuck,” he finds himself sniffling, “Okay.”

“They’ll always be about you.”

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