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shachaai · 6 months

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WIP Wednesday with a twist!

Tell me your 5 favorite lines that you have written

I. Couldn't pick lines. So chunks? And more than five... orz

The Lindworm's Lullaby

“Tell me about your little one,” says Lecter anyway, and Will sighs. If the good doctor is so determined… “Lenore,” says Will. She whom the angels call - as she fusses back. “Lenore Graham. She’s six months old, and looks like the cross between a princess, a pixie, and a dumpling. I had her in March.”

Commencer par La Faim

Beverly falls in step with him, leaving the rest of the food in her bag. “I know, right? Good thing too - the morgue’s all corpses and fungi at the moment, which has pretty much put us all off everything Italian until at least next week, so we’re all temporarily embracing anti-mushroom pescetarianism.” Swallowing, Will squints at his burrito. Black beans. Seasoned rice. Cheese. Onions. Shredded lettuce. Sauce. “This doesn’t contain any fish though?” “Yeah, Jimmy’s been squeamish about the cafeteria seafood ever since a tuna sandwich from there gave him the runs.” Fair enough: Will usually doesn’t touch the fish options in the cafeteria either, although his avoidance is based on the fact he has plenty of - fresher - fish at home that he had caught himself. But if the cafeteria food made Jimmy ill… “You’re really not convincing me I shouldn’t’ve bought my own lunch.” “Too late, you started eating the bribe,” Beverly says ruthlessly, and snorts when Will only sighs pointedly down at his burrito. It’s ruined now. Sort of. Food is food, but now it’s food associated with Jimmy Price’s diarrhoea. “Oh, shut up and eat your fibre.”

---

“There are more species of fungi, bacteria and protozoa in a single scoop of soil than there are species of plants and vertebrate animals in the whole of North America. And yet, animals are more closely related to fungi than any other kingdom - more than 600 million years ago we shared a common ancestry. The branch of fungi that eventually led to animals evolved to capture nutrients by surrounding their food with cellular sacs: essentially primitive stomachs.” “We had stomachs before we had souls.” Abigail’s gentians have been shifted to the windowsill, the older bouquet moved to give way to the new. Will reaches out thoughtlessly, brushing light fingertips over bruised, tired petals. “Says something.” “Hunger is and always has been a primary drive throughout nature.” “And maybe fungi developed a more... efficient means of dealing with it than we have as a species.” Will catches a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye and glances over - Lecter, coming over to join Will at the window, step by openly curious step. “You said it yourself: fungi predates us, and it’ll probably survive us as well, devouring that which kills us and feeding that which forgets us.” “Rising from the rot,” Lecter muses, “consumed by that which will also one day rot.” “An ancient cycle of growth and decay,” Will says, and drops his eyes to the other man’s collar when Lecter looks at him directly. [...] “Fungi are the grand recyclers of our planet,” Lecter says, hands tucked almost casually into his trouser pockets like he’d pry open Will’s skull with his nails if his hands aren’t otherwise occupied, “the interface organisms between life and death.” Transgressive in Will’s mind’s eye, three bodies intertwined in the greater body of the woods, neither fully flesh nor fungi. He frowns, and Lecter takes it as prompt to go on. “Mushrooms, as you asked about them, are merely the visible above-ground protrusions of sometimes vast underground networks of mycelium. They’re quite remarkable: mycelial nets have been shown to share the same architecture as that of astrocytic brain cells, both networks creating neurological pathways for distributing information as efficiently as possible.” Will parses that. And then drops his hand from the gentians. “...Mushrooms are sentient.” “Mycelial networks are arguably sentient. Of which mushrooms are a minuscule but visible part.” Lecter’s voice turns thoughtful. “An intricate web of connections.”

---

Lecter manages to condense so much judgemental distaste for the peanut butter cup melting onto Will’s lips in one look, he might as well package up the solid product and sell it as a flavour of its own. Will very pointedly shoves the rest of the candy into the hollow of his cheek before acknowledging the other man. “Dr. Lecter.” “Is that your lunch?” asks Lecter, continuing to radiate the disapproval of genteel schoolmarms everywhere: don't talk with your mouth full. “I have three more in my bag,” says Will, who had been planning to supplement the peanut butter cups with a hot sandwich from the cafeteria but now feels almost committed to seeing if he can survive the rest of the working day fuelled only with coffee, filched Halloween candy, and spite. “Along with two giant sour gummy worms and a packet of candy corn.” “Truly,” Lecter says dryly, “a balanced meal.”

---

Price sets down his fork to carefully unwrap the poor thing. The doughnut isn’t terrible appetising after the many hands it has passed through to arrive in Price’s; it’s been battered and half-flattened by careless fingers and thumbs, and a great deal of the neon orange frosting that had been decorating the top of it has now stuck to the purple tissue that should have protected it. “You don’t want it?” Price asks - somehow without the slightest trace of sarcasm. Will grimaces. “Alpha-gift,” he explains. “Ahhh,” says Price with all the sympathetic understanding of a fellow omega, and then immediately tears off a chunk of the doughnut to pop into his mouth. Guilt-free. “Who’s the unlucky suitor?” “Professor Ericson -” “And you’ve given it away?” Beverly announces herself by slamming her lunch tray down beside Will’s mostly-forgotten baked potato, looking down at Will semi-reproachfully. Of course she knows Will’s feelings about Ericson, but she can’t help the little instinctive flash of hurt she must feel as an alpha watching an omega discard their gift. “He’ll’ve put his feelings in that.” “I wasn’t encouraging him by eating it,” Will tells her, and Beverly huffs at him as she sits down. “You hear that?” Zeller asks Price, hot on Beverly’s heels. (Will idly wonders what must’ve held them up in the lunch queue.) “You’re eating a man’s feelings.” Price, already halfway through the doughnut, doesn’t look at all bothered. “You want some?” Zeller puts his tray down beside Price’s and tears off a piece of the doughnut to chew himself. “...His feelings taste like artificial colours and preservatives.”

---

“You look put-out, doctor,” Will teases him, touching his fingers to the crease of Hannibal’s elbow for a moment to guide Hannibal around a fallen log as they turn back towards the house. “Did you get something nasty on your shiny boots?” “Strangely enough, I do not recall a warning about there being something nasty out here to step in,” Hannibal sallies back, taking the opportunity to step closer to Will and push Winston out just in front of the two of them. The dog gives him a dirty look, but Hannibal ignores him and turns his next question to a murmur close by the shell of Will’s ear. “Was I led out here under false pretences?” Will, delightfully, shivers, and tries to mask it by lifting his hand to that same ear, leaning away from Hannibal to tuck his hair back behind it. “I would think someone who is at least reasonably intelligent should already know that woods, in general, tend to contain many nasty things, and so, when planning to go for a trek in them, should be prepared accordingly.” “Putting aside the implicit remark about my reasonable intelligence -” Hannibal says, smiling when Will begins to laugh beside him, “I would remind you that physical, mental, and emotional preparedness are all separate considerations. An individual may be fully prepared in advance for anything the elements may physically throw at him, but only understand the full mental and emotional ramifications after the fact.” The white fangs of Will’s grin flash in the dark. “You need to be prepared emotionally to get coyote shit on your boots?” “If I were actually attached to this pair, I might never recover.”

---

Cold, creamy blue sludge slides against Hannibal’s tongue, heavy with cheap syrup, processed sprinkles and cream. Lemon-raspberry-marshmallow sweet and tart. “...It tastes like the Lucky Charms leprechaun just died in my mouth.” Abigail chokes whilst swallowing her milkshake.

---

“No rest for the wicked,” Price sighs as yet another grim-faced technician trundles down the Pagoda stairs and past them to convene outside, and God, if that isn’t the motto of the day. “But better this weekend than next, I suppose. I’ve got a two-day meet-up with the family.” Zeller eyes him dubiously. “You think the Chesapeake Ripper wants to keep his schedule free for the Black Friday sales?” “If it’s the Ripper,” says Will. [...] “It’s the Ripper,” Zeller insists, just as Price chimes in with: “What, you don’t think serial killers like discounts? Who doesn’t like a bargain?”

---

“Speechless as well as breathless,” Will says with a frown. His mouth still tastes sour from vomit, even after sipping some water and grabbing some mints from the nearest vending machine. “But the heart is unaffected?” “Wholly intact and in place,” says Zeller. “Seems like the Ripper doesn’t go for love.” “Struck, but not in the heart. Huh.” Price ponders for a moment. “Maybe it’s just a puppy crush?” Will’s frown deepens. “If the Ripper wanted to show us he had a crush, he’d’ve literally filled this man’s stomach with butterflies. No, this is a more ardent declaration than that.” “You’re a picky date, Graham,” Beverly says with a sigh. “Psychopaths aren’t renowned for their emotional intelligence. Maybe this is a case of delayed realisation.” “Maybe the Ripper’s aromantic,” Price says, and shrugs when the rest of them turn to look at him. “I’m just putting it out there.” [...] Beverly tilts her head. “Really don’t think the general ace community would appreciate adding the Chesapeake Ripper to their ranks, but I’m not sure if that idea is better or worse than picturing the Ripper as a lovelorn dumbass with issues of romantic self-understanding.” “I, for one, am deeply comforted by the thought that the Chesapeake Ripper’s love-life sucks more than mine,” says Zeller. “Not trying to woo people with corpses probably helps,” Price chips in. Will moves away from the body. “In some cultures and during some periods of history, it was a perfectly valid - and encouraged - courting technique. What’s a better trophy than the body of your vanquished opponent?” “Can’t say a corpse would win my approval,” Price sniffs. “What’s wrong with a bottle of tequila and a few tubs of Ben & Jerrys?” “Half Baked?” Zeller asks. “Phish Food, please.”

---

Hannibal - surprisingly - helps, sitting in a chair at Will’s side and folding Will’s hand closest to him between both of his own. His thumb running soothingly back and forth over the slight swell of Will’s scent gland. “You’d be surprised at the sheer range of items I was called upon to remove from the rectal passages of patients in my days as a surgeon.” Will’s head thumps back hard onto the bed behind him, and he turns his incredulous eyes on Hannibal. “Cucumbers were quite a popular choice,” Hannibal blithely continues, completely ignoring Will’s nails digging pointedly into the back of his hand, “but the top 10 list of rectal foreign bodies I was called upon to remove, outside of broken sexual aids, also included shampoo bottles, bottles of alcohol, carved root vegetables, beaded necklaces and barbie dolls.” “We had a gentleman in here not too long back who’d shoved three baseballs up there,” Dominic says, casual as he pleases. (This is what Will gets for actually introducing Hannibal as ‘the father’ for this ultrasound rather than just ‘the support’.) “It was worse than the one time my eldest shoved his favourite Batman lego figure up his nose. I don’t envy his surgeon.” “The worst I had of the kind on my table was a young artist who had poured Plaster of Paris up her rectum,” Hannibal says, simply squeezing back on Will’s grip on his hand at Will’s muttered oh my God. “She wanted a mould of her colon, but only succeeded in glueing her sphincter - and the rest of her lower passage - shut.” “This is supposed to be a touching moment,” Will says - perhaps a little bit louder than necessary - when it looks like Dominic is about to continue the disturbingly focused surgical conversation. The technologist clicking away on the computer beside them barely manages to mask his laugh with a cough, smile hid against his raised arm. Hannibal lowers his face to Will’s shoulder - where Will can feel the nuisance grinning against his arm. “My apologies, Will. It seemed as though you would appreciate a distraction.”

---

“In my defence,” Beverly says, looking up from where she is blatantly googling encephalitis on her phone so she can frown melodramatically at, first, the dog plushie with a bandaged head that she had brought Will as a get well soon gift and, second, Will’s own head - which is very much bandage-free -, “you just said ‘head injury’ on the phone.” “Pretty sure I said that I had a problem in my brain,” says Will, absently rubbing one of the plushie’s (extremely) soft floppy ears between forefinger and thumb as he watches Beverly tap through to wikipedia, her chair pulled up beside his hospital bed. God, Will misses his dogs. “Yeah, but you’re known for being self-deprecating and shitheads are always saying you have a problem in the brain due to Lounds and her readers,” Beverly points out - reasonably, annoyingly enough. “When have I ever taken that seriously?” “I’m touched by your support,” Will says - mostly - without sarcasm. It feels good to have someone in his corner. It feels good to see a familiar friendly face when he’s stuck in hospital, the long hours stretching out before him otherwise fairly bleak. “And the dog.” “He has your eyes,” Beverly says, cheerfully ignoring the burst capillaries in Will’s own whites from excess vomiting to nod at the machine-embroidered big blue eyes get well soon puppy is sporting. “Definitely no chance of your skull getting sawn open for a matching bandage?” “Don’t think that’s in the official autoimmune encephalitis treatment plan, sorry.” Beverly just snorts, still shamelessly browsing wikipedia for information on Will’s condition. In front of him. “...Only you could develop encephalitis just to wriggle out of a social invite. Good ol’ migraines too plebeian for you, Graham? Even your encephalopathies are rarefied. They only described your version of the disease in 2007.” “As you can see,” Will says dryly, with a gesture down the length of himself, cannula, hospital bed and machines around him all, “I am deeply committed to being on-trend.”

---

“Basics first then,” says Abigail, resigning herself to her fate. “Got it. Slicing, dicing…” “Washing up,” adds Hannibal - solely to see the expression that immediately slides across his companion’s face: disgusted teenager. “You will, I’m sure, be glad to know that I have a dishwasher to assist with most of that task.” “‘Most of that task’?” Abigail inquires - and then answers herself before Hannibal can. “Of course you’ve got a bunch of stuff that’s super old or delicate or isn’t dishwasher-safe. Who needs fancy flourishes when you can plate dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets on Count Dracula’s own dishware?” About to pick up a potato of his own to join Abigail in peeling, Hannibal pauses. “...I’m sorry to disappoint you, but none of my china is Translyvanian.” “He probably imported.” “...A valid supposition,” Hannibal concedes, bending his head to his own task with a knife. “I shall be sure to examine my dishware for any vampiric provenance. The dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets, however, are still out of the question.”

[REDACTED - if you recognise the fic, shhh]

"Do you take your coffee with arsenic or without?"

[Vampire/Werewolf Universe]

"You just... slept through the British Empire? Two World Wars? The atomic bomb?" "You seem to believe these are things a person would wish to be awake for?"

---

"Please put the clothes on that I brought you." "I see no reason." "Common courtesy?" When the plea seemed to fall on deaf ears - "I will sit here and make unflattering comments about your mummified dick until you oblige me."

---

"I have loved others, I think. But, for so long, did not allow myself to be in love. Love brings pain." --- "Love always means loss eventually, and I had had too much of that already."

"And Arthur changed your mind?""

"My mind. My heart. --- "You think I was happy about it either? I told you I love him, but, ai… you have met him."

"Now I believe you."

#needcake

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joe9cool · 1 year

Text

Collide-Justin Herbert-22

A/N: This is fiction, I do not know the LA Chargers or anyone associated with them.

Sunday night football was something else.

AnnSophie and Sara were once again at Joe and Alisha's house. It was them and a few other castmates. The food spread was ridiculous. The drinks were pouring and it was only pregame.

This was a big game for the Chargers. She had been on twitter and saw Emmaunel Acho call Justin a 'social media quarterback' followed up by a dumb song.

She was a hothead, she didn't like people she loved getting critiqued plus he was taking it too far in her opinion.

The first period was frustrating. But the good news was the Chargers defense was holding up really well. Joe echoed Sara's thoughts. "Our defense is actually good, and now our offense can't get shit done. Fucking Lombardi." Joe muttered before taking a shot.

One thing she learned quickly was that no real Chargers fan liked the Offensive Coordinator. Even Justin expressed severe frustration at moments. Well he never spoke about it openly to her, but she knew. The second period things started happening as Justin threw a touchdown pass to Mike. The whole room erupted in cheers! "Fuck you Emmanuel!" Sara hollered as everyone laughed. Okay, maybe she was feeling the Truly's she was drinking. She went over to the snack table and began to fill her plate up. She saw AnnSophie in the corner on her phone.

"Who are you speaking to?" Startled, her friend almost dropped her phone. "What do you mean?"

Erika joined the girls and spoke. "You've been glued to your phone the entire night. I'm surprised you're even here. You don't care about football." Sara didn't tell Erika about AnnSophie's past with Joey. It wasn't her story to tell. She went back to the question at hand. "So who is it?"

AnnSophie shrugged as she slipped her phone into the pocket of her jeans. "It's my agent, I have to be up early Tuesday to shoot the Ralph Lauren campaign. It was suspicious, her friend was smiling and giggling the entire time. Sara decided to just drop it. "It sucks that you're leaving tomorrow. I know it's selfish of me, but stay an extra week"

AnnSophie laughed. "I wish, but my mom and step-dad are bringing Lexi up to NY Tuesday. I'm going to try to get in contact with George about taking her another time."

This time their other castmate Samira stepped in. "Jesus, I'm sorry he's a damn deadbeat. He was the one all excited about having her, then he cheats on you and doesn't want to be a dad because you broke up with him."

AnnSophie shook her head. "It is what it is. I've decided that if he doesn't shape up by the end of 2023 I want to pursue full custody. I have saved all of the texts and proof that he is an absent father, and that Lexi would be better off without him. I mean all he did was throw her a birthday party and didn't even spend time with her?"

Sara sighed. She felt so bad for her goddaughter. She deserved a dad who would put her first.

Erika cut in. "Well we will see you soon! You will be coming back in April for filming of the show. Everyone will be reunited, speaking of coming back. Sara, Justin knows you're leaving on January 5th? That's less than a month away."

She was stunned, that was out of left field. "I mean obviously we discussed it. We are doing long distance. I won't be gone the whole three months. I will be back at the end of January for the Fenty show. That's what? A week? We could spend time together."

Erika shook her head. "Yes but the Fenty fashion show has press. There's a pre show dinner you must attend. Plus Justin won't be in the playoffs. He probably will be in Oregon, or on a boys trip. I don't see how you can make it work

Maybe it was alcohol, or that her best friend decided to be out of pocket all of the sudden. "Is there something you want to talk about?"

Erika took a sip of her drink. "I'm just saying, you've only been together for what? Six months? And I know you've been working on your issues, but I'm just saying. I don't think it's gonna help that you're far away."

"Well we've matured alot, and now it's none of your business." Sara was clenching her plate, to the point where everything almost spilled over. Erika rebutted. "Well it is our business. We don't want to see you all heartbroken like Harry."

"Who the fuck do yo-"

"TOUCHDOWN!" The guys yelled. Samira grabbed Sara. "Okay guys let's get back to the game!" She didn't realize how much time had passed. They were at the end of the second quarter and Ekeler had managed to get the Chargers in a comfortable lead.

She saw Erika out the corner of her eye sulking in a corner. What the fuck was that about? It was supposed to be a good night and here she was trying to start a fight. Now granted, Sara and Erika had many fights over their twelve years of friendship. But it was always resolved quickly. What was all of the sudden so pressing? Especially when she thought about that incident in New York in front of her fans.

During the end of halftime, Sara approached. "Hey" She stopped when Erika stood up straight. "I don't want to fight, and I apologize for the aggressive tone. But I just want to talk." Erika relaxed. "I'm sorry Sara, I was just upset." Sara was confused. "What is it about me and Justin?" Erika rolled her eyes. "It's not always about you and Justin okay? I'm going through personal issues with my family. But I always listen to your problems."

Sara was stunned. "Erika, I'm sorry that I made you feel that way. We just tell each other everything and that's how it's always been. You know you can just vent to me whenever you feel like it. Just call me up and say you need to talk about your family."

It was what bonded them together freshman year of high school. Erika's family wasn't wealthy, and her dad was too prideful to ask for money, even though the Wozniak's would offer to help them he would always refuse. Sara would always have Erika at her house for dinner, and make sure to give tons of leftovers for her parents and brother. "Erika, is it money or something they need?"

Her friend shook her head. "No, you pay me more than enough to send them some money. It's just my parents are always fighting, when I came home for Thanksgiving things just got worse. I think they might be heading for a divorce."

Sara hugged her friend. "Erika, I'm so sorry. Please don't feel like you can't tell me anything. I've been selfish, so wrapped up in Justin I haven't been talking to much outside of work."

Erika smiled. "I could have just sat you down and told you." Sara nodded. "Well AnnSophie leaves tomorrow. Why don't we have a day Tuesday where we just hang out? No work, no boys, nothing."

Erika smiled and looked at the television behind them. "You're gonna be exhausted after celebrating this win." Sure enough. The guys were hollering as the Chargers made a good field goal. Sara smiled. "I'll make sure to be energized for tomorrow."

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Alright guys tomorrow is Victory Monday! So enjoy it off! You guys earned it!" The group cheered as everyone began to get ready to go home. Justin was finished with media commitments and needed a nice long shower. He did a quick scrub off but wanted a real long bubble bath with a certain brunette that was waiting for him.

He grabbed all of his things and began to head out of the tunnel to the players lot. Justin walked by some media as he passed. He saw Taylor standing in the corner and began a light jog. His name was called as he kept running.

Quickly he got to the parking lot into his car. Taking a deep breath, he opened his texts.

Proud of you baby cakes.

He smiled and rolled his eyes. Sara was teasing him a few days ago about pet names.

I'll pick up some food, you better be waiting naked for me.

He groaned when he got the text

I'm at Joe's house with the girls. Come pick me up. I rode with Erika

He had punched in the address Sara gave him into his navigation system and began driving.

Justin pulled up to the restaurant first and got their dishes. He got his favorite pasta and a salad and chicken Alfredo with their favorite canoli's. Maybe they can workout tomorrow.

He pulled up outside Joe's house expecting Sara to be waiting for him, however the front door opened and Joe came running out. "Get your fucking ass inside." Justin laughed. "Where's Sara?"

"Inside, I told her to stay there. You thought you could just pick her up and leave? No sir! Not after that performance!"Joe opened the driver's side and pulled Justin out of the car. He let himself be dragged by the shorter, inebriated man into the house. Once he entered, the group of five cheered loudly. He blushed, while Sara laughed and went up to him. Expecting a simple hug from him she squealed as he picked her up and swung her around the room. Planting a big kiss on her. The room hooped and hollered at the couple. Justin tasted the alcohol on her lips and knew she had a few herself.

Once they pulled away Sara smiled. "That was so fucking sexy of you to throw for almost 400yards in front of bitch ass Emmaunel Acho." He threw his head back and laughed loudly, not expecting his girlfriend to be so opinionated.

Before they knew it, Justin had a shot glass in his hand, filled with a clear fluid that would be tequila. Joe shouted "To our social media quarterback taking off to the playoffs!" They all put their glasses in the air and cheered and took their shots. Justin made a face as the liquid burned his throat. Still holding Sara, she whispered into his ear. "So fucking sexy. You know I've always found you hot in uniform."

He growled low so know one would hear him. He spoke Into her lips. "Hmm I'm off tomorrow." He felt a pair of eyes on them, but didn't pay too much attention. Sara turned around and addressed the group "Okay guys we are taking off"

"NOO! He just got here! We need to celebrate!" Joe started to pour another shot but Alisha stopped him. "You have had enough celebrating. You have a meeting with your agent tomorrow and you're going to have a massive headache." He protested as Alisha dragged him into the bedroom. It was a sign that the party ended, they all thanked the couple for hosting and to do this next week if they didn't go to the game.

Before Sara got into Justin's car she yelled at AnnSophie. "Your flight is in the afternoon. I can take you." Her friend shook her head. "No need actually."

"Oh is Erika taking you?" She looked over at the other girl who was just as confused as Sara. AnnSophie smiled. "I have a driver coming. Enjoy your night and day. I will see you for the Fenty Show!" Sara ran over and hugged her friend. "Call me when you get back to New York, and Lexi's Christmas gifts will be in the mail." She hugged Erika "Don't forget Tuesday."

"Don't worry, I'll have a wheelchair rented and ready. " They both looked back at Justin, who was fidgeting with impatience. Sara laughed and hugged Erika, before going back to Justin’s silver porsche. Justin opened the door for her and helped her in as she was still feeling the drinks. “I have the food so you can sober up.” She reached over the middle to kiss his cheek, Justin smiled. “Baby please sit in your seat.”

“I really want to give you road head so bad.” Her hand went towards his crotch but he grabbed her hand with his larger one and placed a kiss to the back of it. “Not right now, as soon as we get home you can get on your knees.” She felt the wetness in between her legs.

Maybe she was drunk,or super horny, but it seemed like Justin pulled into his driveway faster than he normally would. He got out and grabbed the bags before helping Sara out and heading into his house. Nova hopped off the table (which she wasn’t supposed to be on) and walked up to them. Well Sara because she got on her knees and gathered the cat in her arms “Oh my baby! I missed you!” She kissed her soft fur. Justin rolled his eyes. “Hi Nova, I’m here too." He muttered sarcastically. He could have sworn that the cat glared at him as she was soaking up attention from her favorite human.

Once Nova was satisfied and walked away Justin dragged her over to the kitchen table to eat. They discussed the game, and she went over what happened at the party. Justin smiled as she quoted Joe's antics during key moments and his comments.

"I feel bad ya know? Joe is a good guy. It's just he's very-"

Sara cut him off "boisterous? Obnoxious? Life of the party?" They shared a laugh. "Trust me I know. I've spent 12 hour days with him for four years."

"I'm glad Mike RSVPed for me." He smiled and Sara’s heart skipped a beat. "I'm glad I approached you, cause I know your ass wouldn't have." He laughed. "How long are you going to give me shit for not approaching you?"

"For the rest of my life." Justin liked the sound of that. He liked it a lot. "I'm sure I'll get shit from Mitch too."

Sara was quiet. Justin starred. "What's wrong?"

"My mother texted me. She wants me to come down for Christmas. To Pittsburgh."

Justin's face hardened. "I don't think you should go." He said in an angry voice. Sara was shocked. His tone changed. "I don't want to see you get hurt. After your Aunt and dad said to you."

"My mom says that Aunt Willa is going to the Hamptons with her husband's family. As well as my dad, he will probably be working in his study working on the Market for the new year."

"My family is coming down, including Mitch and his girlfriend. I would like you to meet them, also you're leaving soon after, and I would like to spend as much time as possible." He looked down at his plate. "If you want to go, that's fine, I don't want to stop you. It's just I don't want to see you get hurt."

Tears gathered in her eyes and she got up to sit on his lap. "Baby, I'm not going. I know it upset my mom and sisters, but they understand. I would love to meet Mitch and his girlfriend. Oh my god that reminds me."

She jumped up and out of the extra drawer in the kitchen she grabbed pen and paper. "I got to order gifts and everything. You must tell me what your parents want. Also what about your brothers?" She was scribbling away.

"Also food? Ooh I could bake or make a turkey." Justin got up and kissed her mid ramble about food allergies. "Stop. It will be fine. We don't really exchange gifts, maybe some small trinkets. As for food, My mom is ordering from the place down the road we like. If you want to make something for dessert that's fine." He smiled. "It's a no stress Christmas. That's how we always did it."

She smiled and wrapped her arms around him. "God we are total opposites. Christmas was fun, but everything was a big show you know?"

Justin cleared his throat. "Not to be nosey, but how much money do your parents have?"

She forgot he never looked stuff up about her. "Well I've always disclosed that my parents were wealthy. And that even though my parents were not supportive of me pursuing the arts and acting, I still had a security net if things failed. If I had told my dad I was quitting acting and going to business school he would have paid for everything in full."

She pulled away from Justin and pushed herself up on the counter. "My dad has investments in a few properties and my mom, though she didn't have as much money she got inheritances from family in the past. My parents are comfortable. I don't know how much exactly, but if I had to guess with all of the properties and stuff probably around five million."

His eyes widened. Yeah his parents took vacations and they were able to put them through sports and stuff, he and his brothers were responsible for their colleges and cars. Even then, Mitch refused to let Justin help him with student loans due to medical school. That was just who they were. They didn't want handouts, they wanted to earn everything. Call it a pride thing, but to the Herbert's, there was no better feeling than having that proclamation that you did it all yourself.

Justin tried to think of something to say without being rude. "I'm assuming your sisters have the same personality as you. How did you guys stay so humble? I've met people who are in sports who are so entitled."

Sara shook her head. "My parents always made us earn extra things. We got our basic necessities and then some. But when we got to sixteen we had to get jobs. Yes, we got our own cars once we got our license. But we had to help with insurance, and pay for our own gas. Still we realized that some of our classmates had to get jobs to help families with bills and it was so we could have money for clothes, makeup, and concerts." She laughed.

He shook his head. "I'm sure you guys were constantly fighting over clothes."

"Well the others were. I couldn't," She looked down. "I have hips, and a stomach. Katie told me I took all the tits." He laughed while he squeezed her breasts. "Thank God for that." They kissed and it deepened. She moaned as he put his hand underneath her shirt to feel her breasts. He broke the kiss and she whined, wanting more. "Go to the bedroom, I'll clean all of this up." Referring to the "mess" on the kitchen counter. She rolled her eyes. Justin was such a neat freak that he couldn't just take her right there right now.

As she was going to the bedroom she yawned, the excitement of the day getting to her, along with all the drinks. She washed her makeup off, did her skincare, got naked (he was probably going to rip off her undergarments anyways) and she laid on the bed. Her eyes began to droop instantly and she forced herself to sit up to try to fight it off. When Justin entered the room he noticed immediately how tired she was.

He got undressed, and then slid under the covers. "Baby I thought we were going to-"

Justin kissed her. "Let's get some sleep first." She hummed and got underneath the covers. She cuddled up to Justin and felt something heavy on her back. She laughed when she heard his voice. "Jeez Nova." She smiled up at him. "She's fine. It feels good on my back." It didn't take long for all of them to fall asleep.

Sara woke up to the sound of running. There was ruckus in the next room. She sat up and looked over. Justin was on his back, sound asleep. She reached over and put on her glasses, her eyes still needing to adjust to the pitch black room.

Not too long after she discovered the noise. Nova scurried in and out, looking like a brown fluff ball zooming past her. She ran back in and jumped on the bed before jumping off and running out of the room. She silently giggled before getting out of bed gently so as not to disturb her partner and went to the kitchen. Nova was now running on the couch. Sara smiled at the sight.

"Nova," she whispered. The Bengal glanced at her. "You need to not wake daddy up." She got herself a glass of water and went to sit next to the hyper cat. She looked around and noticed Nova didn't have a cat tree to climb. Well now she knew what to get the feline for Christmas.

Sara opened her laptop on the coffee table and went to Amazon. She didn't have to search long before she found a big cat tree with many shelves and hiding spots. Typing in Justin's address she clicked order, along with a few toys for her.

She checked the status of other orders and saw the delivery date of gifts to her friend and sister's houses. Sara browsed for something for Mark, Holly, Patrick, and Mitch. She was at a loss.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the Tumblr tab opened to the blog she looked up when she first did her research on him. Despite saying she was past that there was a curiosity growing inside of her to look at the blog and see if anything was said about a potential relationship between her and Justin. As she went to click on the blog, Nova jumped on her lap and mowed. Forgetting the task she cuddled the cat. "Aww baby you tired yourself out with your zoomies"

"I forgot she even did that." Sara jumped and turned around to see Justin smiling in the doorway of his room. She laughed. "Why do you always scare me like that? How long have you been up?" He shook his head and took a seat on the couch next to her. Quickly she slammed the laptop closed. He raised an eyebrow at her. "What's the matter?"

She put the computer down. "I was ordering Christmas gifts and I don't want you to see." He smiled and grabbed her to lay her down with him on top of her. Her running her hands through his hair. "I need to cut it." He muttered

As much as she loved long hair she agreed. "Yeah you do." He smiled up at her. "Will you shave it off for me?"

She rolled her eyes. "Absolutely not. Do not get that cadet cut everyone again."

He laughed. "Can I get it short though?"

She thought about it. "Fine, I'll get used to it I guess." He laid his head back down. "I'll miss you so much." He muttered and Sara's heart broke. They only had less than three weeks left. As much as she tried to push it in the back of her mind she did dwell on it. She kissed the top of his head. "I'll facetime you everyday. You will be sick of me. Also I've been thinking." It was something she always wanted to do but being in the public eye with any relationship was a big risk. One wrong move and it could end up ruining both of their lives. But she trusted Justin, and wanted to do this with no one but him.

"We could make a sex tape." He stilled for a minute, and Sara wondered if she should eat her words until he sat up to look at her. "You mean film us having sex?" She nodded. "I think that's the definition of a sex tape. I mean, it would be something for us to enjoy while we are away from each other."

He looked down and she stammered. "I mean we sorta already crossed the line when we had phone sex and sent nudes."

He had forgotten about that. He deleted the picture of Sara's breasts from his phone and made sure to go to his icloud when he came down from post nut clarity. No one should see his love the way he sees her.

"I mean it would be hot, but filming on what?" He didn't want to use their phones.

She smiled.. "an old fashioned cam recorder. We make a cd and keep it in a lockbox." His eyes widened. "Wow, you're prepared" He didn't mean it negatively but he saw her face drop and quickly backtracked. "I just meant that you've been thinking about this." Her face relaxed and she laughed. "Well I'm going to be honest, you're the only one I trust making one with."

His heart soared at those words. They spent the rest of the early morning with pros and cons of making tape. They fell asleep with them still being on the fence.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So how was spending the off day with Justin?" Erika asked as they waited to be called for their facials. As promised, Sara took her friend and assistant out to a nice breakfast and a workout class before getting a mini spa day. "I'm surprised you can walk." Erika laughed, and she joined in. "I mean we did it early in the day. Then some of his friends came over for a small BBQ."

"Look at you being so domestic. Can you believe how much has changed since the pandemic?" It was true, before the pandemic her, Erika, and AnnSophie were constantly out clubbing in LA. When they were in NYC they were joined by Bella and Samira and they would be photographed at the hottest nightclubs. Once Harry and Sara were linked they were out at all the New York and London Hotspots. "Hey not to bring this up." Erika interrupted Sara's thinking. "But I saw Harry was back in Los Angeles."

Her friend was confused. "Didn't he just finish touring for two years? Why isn't he in London?" Erika shrugged. "Beats me. Maybe he is working on something."

Sara tried not to think of Harry and Olivia splitting. She didn't want him back by any means. She was happy, she had Justin. But Harry had contacted her before the breakup, would he come on stronger? And if so, what did he actually want? He was a persistent man. When he wanted something, he had to have it.

Her train of thought broke when they were called and their skin was prepped. They chose a gold caviar facial. To be honest Sara would always see this stuff being done on the Kardashians and would laugh, but it piqued her interest. She also was scheduled for laser hair removal as well. They didn't talk much as the facials and treatments were getting done. Once they were out their skin was glowing and they felt rejuvenated.

They had lunch at a local hot spot while others looked on and photographers snapped away. It was a nice day, and Sara decided to spend the evening with her as well. She gave Justin a heads up since he was going to be at the practice facility. He replied back with 'k' and she knew he wasn't happy but understood she wanted to spend time with her friends.

In the evenings she and Erika made goofy tiktoks and drank while watching shitty reality television while they gossiped. It was a good night.

—----------------------------------------------------------------

SoFi was party central. It was the company’s annual Christmas party, where all of the influences were socializing and taking advantage of the press and blogs. Kristen rolled her eyes at all of them. Granted, she did have a large following considering she was a college athlete. But these people were just treating every single corner like a photoshoot. Even at the damn snack table, she couldn't even reach her hand to grab a cracker because everyone had their phones to record an Instagram video.

Ignoring the glares, she poured a glass of the spiked punch and filled her plate up before she walked away.

And almost into another body.

Kristen's drink spilled a little on her wrist. "Oh my god I'm so sorry!" A soft male voice took a napkin and started dabbing. She smiled. "It's fine, it's only the wrist."

"No seriously, let me get you another drink. Before she could protest she saw him walk over to the table and interrupt all the others still taking video and pictures to fill another glass. He came back over and handed it to her. "It's the least I can do."

Kristen smiled and took it. "Thanks." After a few awkward minutes she decided to start up the conversation. "So you work for the company or?"

"Oh no! I'm a photographer with OK! Magazine.I do all of the events that celebrities and influences go to, and as you can see there is no shortage here." He gestured to the table he just came from. She laughed. "What about you?"

"I do the marketing here at SoFi." He nodded. "How do you like it?"

"I love it! I just moved to Los Angeles from Colorado so it's a culture change."

The man smiled. "Oh I bet, growing up in cold weather to sunny LA? That's a change."

"Oh I'm not from Colorado. I was born and raised in Eugene Oregon. I played sports at the University of Oregon."

The man's interest seemed to grow. "Really? Oh I've been searching Oregon for some project and I've decided to take my boyfriend there on vacation. Is Eugene a good place?"

Kristen was excited, finally someone in this town was interested to know about her home state. "Well to be honest, Eugene isn't a place for tourists unless you want to spend time at the University. I would say more on the outskirts of Portland is your area."

They spoke more about the area, not realizing how much time had passed until David approached. "Hey babe, I'm sorry, I was exploring the arena. You know they let us go on the field!" He wrapped his arm around her. "Actually your boss is looking for you to get everything ready for the charity event."

"Oh Jeez! I forgot about that." She looked at the guy she had been talking to. "It was nice talking to you and thank you for the drink!" She went to leave but then remembered something "Oh my gosh I'm so sorry I don't think we got each other's names." She stuck her hand out. "I'm Kristen"

The man smiled and shook it.

"I'm Jack Lange."

A.N. Hey I said I’d get them through the Holiday’s. You all remember Jack?

#Justin Herbert #alexa writes collide #sara and justin canon #nfl imagine #nfl #los angeles chargers

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bisluthq · 4 months

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I gotta say, Tree using the defence that speculations on Gaylorism would never happen to male stars on this level might be one of the stupidest things she could’ve said. The same author they’re calling out literally wrote the same invasive article about harry in 2022. Name dropping Shawn was probably one of the worst examples they could’ve used because Shawn has literally addressed how the gay rumors hurt him.

LMFAO THIS IS SUCH A GINNY AND GEORGIA TWEET THING LMFAOOO

Taylor girl I luv u but u can’t just say every single thing you don’t like happens to you because you’re a girl. Utterly bizarre response. Also embarrassing to respond at all and ALSO idk for me personally confirms that the gayest thing Taylor’s ever done is whoop for gay boys at parties and maybe peck a girl if a boy would whoop for that since this was so hurtful to her that she felt the need to like issue a full on statement.

1989 Prologue didn’t kill soft Gaylor but this 100000% did lmfaoooooo.

That said, as I always say, if themes resonate in a particular way like as they should and she’s explicitly said she likes people finding new meanings in her songs (and finds new meanings in her own songs sometimes).

My guys I’m straight up cackling at the response tho and what they clearly thought was feminism like what does her being a girl have to do with any of this? 😂😂😂😂😂

Also I love that Tree goes STRAIGHT to CNN now like she uses ET and People as her personal Facebook and if she has stuff to say she goes to CNN (breakup, Travis, this). It’s iconic. It should also put to bed the idea that she’s ever behind blogs or Deux or whatever like this lady has fucking CNN on speed dial willing to publish very bizarre statements looool.

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ryan-waddell11 · 1 year

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TW (ED)

This week is very important to me. The week of Monday, February 27 until Sunday, March 5 is Eating Disorders Awareness Week. I don’t want sympathy. I just want to spread awareness.

mentions of disordered eating (Binge Eating Disorder) and bullying

I have struggled with disordered eating behaviors and body dysmorphia since I was 11 years old. Over half of my life. I never realized I had a problem because I wasn’t actively aware. I wasn’t forcing myself not to eat so it never seemed like a problem. I just ate when I felt like it. Many people only associate eating disorders or disordered eating habits with people who are thinner or are actively conscious about it. This is not always the case.

In MY experience, I was taking a required class for school. I had to document a week of eating in my life. Although I didn’t eat badly and there would be days when I would eat more than others a lot of my eating behaviors were that of a binge eating disorder. I was always told not to eat if you’re not hungry; sadly, I was never hungry. When I did feel hungry, I would eat as much as I could, and then ultimately feel guilty about doing that, and I would always have to rationalize as to why I was being this way. After the assignment was complete, some faculty became concerned and talked to me about these behaviors and told me it wasn’t normal or healthy. I began looking into people and how to get looked at because I didn’t understand whether what I was doing was wrong or not healthy.

Ultimately, I kept up with these eating habits through the remaining years of high school. Flash forward to 6 years later and I’m a junior in college. I’m instructed to do that assignment once again and then share it on a discussion board for my classmates to read. Now I could easily lie on these assignments, but to be honest, I forgot to do it most of the time because I didn’t eat. After this was exposed to my peers the seriousness of it all set in. It was humiliating to read the discussion board and have people I didn’t know openly critique my health habits. They made me feel incredibly guilty for being this way, but a classmate was kind enough to message a professor and see if they would reach out because they were concerned. This was when I was again made aware that the things I was doing were unhealthy.

Thinking back to those assignments, I realize that the behavior stemmed from earlier trauma. I was never the girl that people asked out because they liked. I always asked as a joke. I was constantly bullied by adults and my peers because I had developed early and had no control over the weight that I was gaining.

In elementary school, I developed a crush on this kid. When I was younger people said (never him) I would stalk him just because I said I had a crush on him. This stemmed because they felt I was bigger. In middle school, I still had a crush on this kid, and I was told by peers (never him) that no one would date someone as enormous as me.

In seventh grade, I was tormented in the locker room by my OWN teammates and called a fat pig and some of them go out of their way to slam me into doors and throw food at me.

It was also in seventh grade when my friend was showing around someone new. When I talk to my friend at lunch that day, I noticed this kid was next to him, and when I introduce myself, he refused to give me his name because he said, “I don’t give my name to ugly fat girls.” I was trying to be polite and ask for your name, not get in your pants. I still don’t know this kid’s name. I’ve called him an asshole ever since (I still don’t feel bad about that one).

There was one “joke” that always stuck with me. I was in the eighth grade, and I was in art class. My teacher at the time was also my volleyball coach for the school. she had to go talk to another teacher and she asked me to grab the copies out of her back room and then shut the door when I was done as it would lock from the outside. While I was in the room, I shut the door so that nobody else could run in and when I walked out, I turned around to shut the door, and suddenly, a bunch of guys slammed me into the door, crushing me with desks. I was surrounded, and I couldn’t lift myself over them, and they thought it was funny. I felt so miserable. That pain doesn’t disappear. The games like “pull a pig” or even asking someone out as a joke are HURTFUL. Even if we don’t show it, the pain and damage is done.

Reflecting on my personal journey I realized that the root of my problems began when I hit puberty and was bullied for developing young. It was something I couldn’t control and I felt like a monster. I remember making the promise to myself not to eat if I wasn’t hungry, which didn’t seem unhealthy, but reflecting now I realized how damaging it was. I kept that promise, but I’ve never been able to free myself from those habits. Even when I look at my body, I see the damage that I’ve done that feels almost irreversible. I have rib flares from where I sucked in my stomach so much to try and look thinner. I have the habit of not eating for hours and days on end and then shoving food in my face the second I feel hungry until that feeling goes away because I don’t know when I’ll be hungry again. it’s incredibly hard for me to break these habits, but I am working to better myself every day.

This is still something I struggle with every single day. I’ve consistently been the same size since I was 14. This is hard to let go of since I’ve been a 6-10 for so long. The number on the scale or your pants size shouldn’t matter, but it always will to me. It’s how society pushes its horrible and unrealistic beauty standards on young men and women. So, while I am currently trying to work on my recovery from these behaviors, I’m not fully recovered, and I don’t think I ever will be. I’m afraid I will slip back into my old behaviors. It’s something so difficult to deal with. I never want to say I’m fully recovered because I know that if I do slip into these behaviors I’ll feel like a disappointment.

There is still a lot of stigma and misunderstanding about eating disorders. Although conversations around this topic have changed, there’s, unfortunately, an underlying view that it is somehow the person’s fault, and that if they could only learn self-control, they would recover easily. This just isn’t true. Eating disorders are serious mental illnesses that require care, treatment, and respect to help sufferers cope.

A major reason why others and I don’t look for help/support is because of the negative messages we receive from friends and family. I, like many others, didn’t want to be treated differently or make the comments that say, “it’s all in your head,” “she’s not losing any weight she must be faking it,” or “I could never do that. I love food too much.” These are always circling in the mind and sadly this prevents so many from getting the help they need and deserve.

It’s one of the scariest and bravest things you can do, but I want to reassure you. YOU ARE NOT ALONE. Please remember to be kind and mindful when you look at someone’s body. You have no idea what they’re going through.

Thank you.

#eating disoder trigger warning #tw eating issues #eating disoder recovery #eating disorder awareness week #i'm sorry if this isn't what you come to my page for #it's important to me #thank you for reading #please remember to be kind.

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fagraymond · 2 years

Text

TITLE : In time, Sugar sweet (NSFW)

PLOT : He's known Penelope for years, and he had yearned for her touch, and her love, and her attention for equally as long.

WARNING(s) : a lot of emotions, if it isn't obvious, this has a load of sex things here and i dont know how but there's details about solo sessions here too because i got carried away

EXTRA : ran out of time so. there will be. edits even after i post this <3 but here you go babes, my somewhat lengthy garceid fic because i can't control my love for them, also self beta read because what can you expect from me, set in season 4 and up? after he turns 30 because that's how i calculated the times and everything would fall apart if i literally wrote him any younger than 30 ( oh and the AGES, the ages and the timeline in general drove me nuts, there's no time consistency with this show i swear, i just made garcia and reid have a three year age difference )

"Penelope please" He all but begged.

desperately asking to be shown even just the smallest illusion of touch, allowing himself to go dumb for the possibility — like the millionth time that night.

arching his hips towards her, in the most vulnerable, least innocent sweetest way and Penelope did nothing but watch.

Watched as he ached for her so openly, it was almost hard to believe that this was the same man she had worked with for years.

Normally so in his head with his constant brainstorming, filled with patience and animated expressions that would never border on something so carefree like he was now, in front of her. And she was the cause of this, the professional facade is broken down to someone as drunk as she was for him.

He was the sweetest thing, but she wanted to see him become even sweeter. Just for her. "Relax for me, your wait will pay off I promise you my sweets" and those words made him burn. along with the words lingering in the air that he knows like a popular symphony.

Her promise; I'll give it to you, only if you were to be so kind as to lose yourself to me. and He was ready to do that, with no hesitancy. to give himself up for Penelope Garcia.

Dr. Spencer Reid has been associated with Special Agent Penelope Garcia for 8 years; 96 months, 417 weeks, 2,920 days, 70,128 hours, 4,207,680 minutes, and 252,460,800 seconds and never once has he been this close to her, physically.

There were a few close calls. fingertips touching, hips bumping, and shared hugs with the identical urge to never let each other go, but that was before there was a spark, a mutually reciprocated spark. Before long gone as the past, when the duo was still so stuck in their heads, thinking that the other side would never see a romantic opportunity ever develop between them, during their job, and at the eye of the storm, there laid an incredibly oblivious Derek Morgan.

And by proxy, the barrier. As he had so kindly named himself during his incredibly detailed shovel talk with the couple.

Which Spencer had thought, at the time, to be a little dramatic yet as he reflected beyond those silly little moments spent with banter, It was almost obvious— too obvious that Spencer's days were dulled down majorly because of the closeness they shared.

None to him, because of course, Never to him. Just famously, Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia, lovers made for one another; soulmates to an extent that came off to Reid as baffling. No matter how bad that sounded on paper.

He had even shared advice once, to the flirtatious pair. when he was a spectator given front row seats to the two during the age of 27, but he had not told Penelope yet, He was a coward to risk their friendship for something as taboo in the workplace as it was; the chance of being her partner for as long as she'll have him.

5 years, 60 months, 1,826 days, 43,830 hours, 2,629,800 minutes, and 157,788,000 seconds with a portion of those wasted by him pondering when he should've seen it.

Barely subtle hints with the words 'I love you too, Spencer Reid' were plastered on the walls wherever and whenever she was there with him. In neon pens, with stickers and glitters and a lot of lipstick surrounding them, and blinking hearts.

Another one of their many days shared, was spent in a mansion.

9 years; 108 months, 469 weeks, 3287 days, 78,894 hours, 4,733,640 minutes, and 284,018,400 seconds and never once has he been this close to her, emotionally.

another celebration with Italian food, smiles showing teeth, drunk stumbles and amused hello's from sober people towards their loved ones who couldn't recognize them through the haze that is Alcohol. Nothing surprising in the Rossi mansion, at least to the BAU, who were the stars of the night.

They always were, they knew their ins and outs, even when Hotch tried his best to deny that the porch wasn't the comfiest thing in the world to a sleep-drunk Prentiss and a William LaMontagne who had no idea what was going on but he was way too wasted to not join in on being screamed at by the unit chief.

All of it was viewable from their spot in the kitchen. Alone and not wanting to join in on the fun they had spectated through the glass doors that should've drowned all sounds out if the bunch weren't screaming. Much to Rossi's neighbor's relief, and theirs. wanting nothing but to confront something between them, in privacy. the topic that had left tear stains on so many zebra prints and dyed sweaters to be passed off as unfortunate spills, just from the thoughts of having it.

So they moved to a different room, to another floor from how ridiculously many there were, according to Reid. Few suggestive comments were left here and there as they wondered around the halls, only to settle on a guess bedroom, at least they hoped it was.

"Let's hope that there are extra sheets because after tonight? It'll be almost impossible to tell that they were sheets in the first place" Garcia had said, jokingly making cat claw motions with her hands at the Doctor as he locked the room's door.

They needed privacy, that was his excuse. And if she had seen the flush in his face when she was merciful enough to not mention it.

It had taken them a good few minutes to even start the conversation, trading awkward hi's and hello's over and over that Penelope had to hold back the floods of flirtatious comments to attempt to lighten up the situation, but she knew that Reid wouldn't appreciate that, obvious from his pacing and well-hidden jittering.

And something at the back of her mind burned because she dreaded the topic too. The topic of them, as something. Disconnected from Reid and Garcia but someone to each other as Spencer and Penelope. No professionality, in their most vulnerable states.

Not as if it was a bad thing, of course. It was everything they could ever want, something they could only dream of, no matter how dirty those dreams could get in some nights. Something that they would trade the world for, just to have a taste; of being each other's someone. they wouldn't care about the time they could spend as lovers, they wouldn't hesitate to take the titles up as boyfriend and girlfriend even if they knew they would have the same fate as Rossi and his wives had. No, they wouldn't hesitate.

But despite that, It had taken so much courage for Reid to lean against her, with as much passion as they did whenever they hugged except there was something else under those simple actions they've memorized. Words traded with heavy double meanings left behind floating in the room like ships with too many winds in their sails, they didn't wait long to finally join the BAU, in their endeavors.

And at that moment.

How Reid glowed under the fairy lights, how perfectly framed Penelope's face was beneath the flickering rainbow flurries that had begun to blur as they sunk into their little world. For as long as she had him, Spencer Reid swam and never sunk, kept afloat with her pressure against his comforting weight when they had begun to slow dance to heavy terrible club remixes that blasted in their ears.

The spark; the one Reid had for years, ignited at that moment. no matter how humorous the settings may have been. Interpreted as the time Penelope realized how much she finally loved the young genius back, except of course she was a young genius of her own, mind you, with her little dirty secrets of her own.

No, not the nights spent thinking of the man; bending him over, kissing him lavishly, spoiling him with arrays of hickeys on his untouched beautifully scarred skin. No, none of that. Her secret was that; she felt affection for him, before that situation.

As obvious as the signs were that she made herself, it wasn't when he was 27. Beyond that, as cliche as it sounded; the fire in her heart started sturring so sweetly, was when she was 26, 3 years older than the other.

The first meeting wasn't even formal, a simple hello and a little lift of his eyebrows only to move on to looking somewhere else shouldn't have made her heart beat in her ears that loud, but her heart did. And it scared her when she came home, when she came back to find that she had already started breaking an FBI insituated rule. On her first day.

Had the moment she saw him, sitting cross-legged and unashamed with his hair slicked back and still so young to be at the scene like her, behind a so-named Derek Morgan, equally unashamed. It ticked to her that maybe, just maybe by chance.

The thrill of using her knowledge to create a better environment for both the new and old generations plus being removed from the FBI's watchlist for her supposed justified crimes wouldn't be the only fuelling thoughts that would keep her going to work every. single. day.

Only to put it out with overpreparing and thoughts overthought. to meet the man again, the following day, and the next and the next until she can see his face so vividly in her mind, that she can only hope that maybe some day she can work with him, engage in conversations, without feeling like an aray of fireworks, craving the attention of crowds. Specifically, the crowd that contained him.

Only for that day to never come.

She wished it was joke, but she thinks very frequently about the doctor. very frequently, that her tendency has bled into her dreams.

A man with knowledge decades beyond his person, the only one on par with her 16-bit rhythm game, how could he ever see her in the same light? it would take a lot of time, for that possibility to breach the surface of her fantasy world.

And only 8 years beyond, would her thoughts be ever so true, once again under the gaze of the night with their shoes; worn-in converse and her glass slippers on the greener grass, blonde and cherub curls blending as the night went on past them.

Sharing body heat as if they would forever be cold until they were in the same vicinity of each other. There but barely touching the way they wanted to, so close yet so far and It had been like that for what felt like centuries, convincing themselves that they can wait.

Allowing their world to remain untainted with lust, to allow the light of emotions and struggles to be swept away by shivering winds so all that is left is the air that comes out of Spencer's winded mouth, as he let Penelope do whatever she pleases with his body.

Emotions are shown through the cracks that he had so nicely allowed go unmaintained, so she can see who he is for her. Someone vulnerable, someone ashamed and scared. Like anybody else, his knowledge didn't make him inhuman, but people treated him like it did, and it made him ache. And he had let Garcia see that.

All from his honeydew eyes, and she swears it was the trick of the light but wants, wants that she had familiarized herself with by her discretion— sprouted like a beanstalk in his eyes, something she had so foolishly thought the doctor was incapable of. Had he been so innocent looking in her eyes; oblivious to the nights with his wandering hands imagined as hers, caressing himself in the most perfect of spots. Nights spent with his fingers stretching himself out, the angelically sinful scene blocked by green-colored blankets.

It had been a topic spent under dimming lights and smooth tired whispers in the late mornings, grumpy from being waken up so early. Craving something that they knew would regret; would they be foolish enough like they were and to let themselves indulge in their pleasures, to risk being only that replaying in their brains? the only thing their body craves and craves until their blackout weeks are spent with twitching muscles?

Yes, they were.

Shared kisses, promises that became true. The moonlights, the gifts on their 6th Christmas spent with joys and jollies all around it made their cheeks ache. I love you's, not-so-subtle hand-holding under the conference table, smiles sent their way from their friends.

All of those were great, but how would it feel like to go another year, 365 days, 52 weeks, 8,766 hours, 525,960 minutes, and 31,557,600 seconds, no different from the next but instead with a barrier broken between them that consisted of their sexual fantasies coming through? what new intimacies would sprout, how careless, shameless would they become for one another?

Which circles them back to where they were now:

He had thought about it too much, Spencer.

from the early times of 7 o'clock until the shades of beautiful crimson faded in a mix of pinks and became replaced by black, with no stars lighting up the dimness in the city, nothing in the night sky, except for the moon; that knew. that it had decided to make him look so beautiful twisted in Garcia's bed, his hair falling in his face— hand trying to find a place to cling onto as surges of stimulation raked up his body.

The bed in New England, USA, the bed that Derek Morgan had told them to not have too much fun in. The same bed Derek Morgan had hand-picked for the couple because it was his home renovation project, and they were having sex in it. Betraying their promise to him, almost easily with no hesitation.

Moans and wants to fall unashamed, something he never would've dared do if only a few years ago. But all of that was forgotten in a snap, with only him and her in the world, refusing to believe anybody existed outside of them, and his voice started to drown out from even his ears except hers, her ears that were picking up every shift— every shuffle of the duvet whenever he arched, whenever he moaned, whenever he begged for her; for more.

The sight was ethereal.

It was everything she had ever wanted, presented to her on a silver platter, and she was eating it up, or in better words, eating him up.

Penelope murmured tenderly against Reid's stomach, trying to urge the shaking male to take a breather; tenseness does not make the sexy process smooth, according to her expertise and Reid would believe anything she would say in a heartbeat.

Especially when she made him feel so good; under her, practically hovering over him with his legs draped over her shoulders, and he knew that the position they always manage to find themselves in, never failed to give her the greatest access to his sensitive areas.

All the blood rushing. "Just keep still, my little love bug" Because of her, and It made him shiver. As she pinched his sides, giving him the slightest leeway of clarity before fading again to the haze that is his arousal. Unashamedly, he was thinking with his dick.

Which she never even attempted to touch, to touch him there until the end of their sessions. Because it was the main attraction, and she promises it in soft drags with her nails that were painted glow in the dark; that she'll get on to it, and with her kisses that trailed from the inner of his thighs to his cheeks that it'll feel so good.

But only if he was a good boy about it.

And rest assured, he was being such a good, brave boy about it.

#this reached over 2K words btw #penelope garcia smut #spencer reid smut #garceid #garceid smut #penelope garcia x spencer reid #garcia x reid #penelope garcia x spencer reid smut #garcia x reid smut #hi i just love emotions #criminal minds smut #spencer reid fanfiction #penelope garcia fanfiction

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weepingwonnim · 1 year

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Roommates

Hi,

So I obviously don't believe that I'm close to being the perfect roommate because I am human and also neurodivergent. My friend has suggested the reason I feel personal conflict with my roommate so often is due to us having different coping mechanisms and ways to stimulate ourselves. For now, here is a list of complaints I have about her.

The whole calling her boyfriend daily thing. I might seem like a hater, truly, madly, deeply. However, when we first moved into the room and had to do the roommate agreement she said "I don't call him that often. Maybe once a week." Now I would not mind a 3-4 hour call once a week because I've been there and done that. Yet, she calls him every day for at least 2-3 hours and they game and shit together. Which would be cool EXCEPT that my roommate has no sense of awareness? I had someone in the hallway the other day offer their condolences because they also know how loud she is and I had opened my door while she was on the phone and you could hear her. She does not even have to be yelling for her to be loud.

Hair and bathroom hygiene/cleanliness. So my roommate will only shower when she washes her hair which is somewhere like every 3-5 days. So she does indeed have her own scent to me BUT ALSO she has only done laundry once since we've been here. It has been almost 6 weeks. Insanity for me after having grown up in a military household.

She doesn't understand boundaries and openly admitted to being two-faced (which is nuts). It was actually wild because the other day I had been sleeping but she loudly called (maybe yelled) my name. I then proceeded to wake up, freak out, and then almost go off on her because she woke me up JUST TO COMPLAIN ABOUT HAVING TO WORK WITH SOMEONE ELSE FOR SOMETHING SHE VOLUNTEERED FOR. (She actually has so much drama with this girl now and it stems from her lying, miscommunication (on both ends), and a lack of social awareness (my roommate was MC-ing with this girl for a ceremony we had and she has been advised numerous times not to make an NK joke and then put one in her script) so honestly, terrible combo and time but it meant I had to listen to her complain more.)

Almost every in my group doesn't like her so I hear lots of complaints and get many pitiful looks. This shit sucks.

Anyway, she now is known for being childish and irresponsible. I hate being associated with her and am openly unhappy about rooming with her.

#in a hole this goes #wackass roommate #I have terrible luck #I guess I have to be more openly neurodivergent on applications

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queenshelby · 3 years

Text

The Judge’s Daughter (Part One)

Featuring: Tommy Shelby x Virgin!Reader

Words: 8,700

Warning: Angst, Blood, Gore, Mention of Suicide, Mention of Miscarriage, Drugs, Racism, Smut

Tag List:

@lilymurphy03 @deefigs @theflamecrystal @chrisevanshoeee @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @captivatedbycillianmurphy @fookingshelby @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall @elenavampire21 @hanster1998 @mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-my-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x

………

Challenging Times

In early 1930, times were hard. The Wall Street crash in 1929 caused many men to lose their fortune. Your family had also lost money on the stock exchange. A lot of money.

Your father was a wealthy judge and now, he was just a judge. Your family home had to be sold and your father moved into a medium sized apartment in London with one of his maids.

Since your mother had passed away in 1920, your father had often sought comfort in his employees. There was one maid in particular who was of interest to him. Her name was Catherine and she was 10 years your father’s junior.

You accepted his relationship with her but soon felt uncomfortable to live with them in the London Apartment.

But your father wasn’t the only family member who lost his fortune in the stock market crash. Your brother had also lost a lot of money. So much money that he could not repay his gambling debt to one of London’s most notorious criminals.

As a result, your brother committed suicide. His mental health had always been troubled ever since he’s been to France, fighting for England in the First World War. Your brother was much older than you and it was almost a miracle when your mother fell pregnant again and gave birth to you after three miscarriages.

Your brother adored you and protected you whenever necessary. He was kind hearted but, unfortunately, got himself involved with the wrong people on several occasions which is when he began gambling.

Following your brother’s death, your father struck a deal with the man to whom the gambling debt was owed, releasing three of his gang members from prison.

The debt was forgiven and you inherited your brother’s small cottage north of London. Regardless of your father’s actions, he began to despise criminals who involved themselves in illegal gambling activities. Your father was known to be particularly harsh when it came to offences of this kind.

He once told you a story about a man who used to be a prominent criminal who made his fortune through race fixing and illegal gambling activities. That man was now a member of parliament and your father despised him.

Being Jewish, your father’s hate for this man increased even more when he became the deputy leader of the British Union of Fascists.

The man’s name was Thomas Shelby and you met him once at a gala organised by the socialist party in Westminster. He was a smart man but he was also extremely rude and insulted your father at the gala following a dispute they had earlier in the day.

Your father threatened him and told him that, one day, he will ensure his downfall. It was your father’s mission and it was dangerous.

With that threat in mind and heated political events unfolding around the country, your father asked you to move to the countryside. Take up your brother’s cottage and lay low until things were taking a turn.

It took you quite some time to build up the courage to move into the house where your brother took his own life. But, you eventually did, taking up your brother’s work at the property while attending nursing school every second week.

The cottage was free standing but behind a larger house owned by wealthy Londoners. Their wealth seemed to have been unaffected by the stock market crash and, just as your brother did, you attended their yards and animals on the small farm in exchange for a wage and free food from the produce.

You also spent some time renovating the cottage which was rather dated.

The cottage had two bedrooms, one of which you converted entirely to a studio for your paintings. You enjoyed painting and you were quite good at it.

The other bedroom you redecorated with your own furniture.

The downstairs area consisted out of a small living room with a fire place and a small kitchen and bathroom.

It wasn’t much, but it was a place you could call your own. It was home.

Initially following your move, you would travel to London occasionally to visit your father and his mistress. You wondered when he would finally propose to her. She had been waiting for years.

When you visited, you would often sit in one of his open hearings. You were quite interested in the political and legal situation in the country especially following recent events.

Notably, it has been six weeks since the assassination attempt on Oswald Mosley, the leader of the British Union of Fascists.

Being Jewish yourself, you, just like your father, despised fascism.

The event at which the assassination attempt occurred was visited by many Jews, protesting against the establishment of the party and their obscure ideas. Despite your father’s instructions not to get involved, you were one of the protestors on the day and, although not openly, you have been associating yourself with the communists.

Your newfound friend Jesse Eden had since led several more protests you attended. Being only 20 years young, you believed that you could make a difference and convince people that their support for fascism was wrong and immoral.

The problem was that your father was at the centre of it all.

Following the assassination attempt on Oswald Mosley, two Jews were arrested and appeared in your father’s court. The prosecution didn’t have enough evidence for a conviction and the men walked free.

No one really knew who was behind the assassination attempt. There were no witnesses and everyone who may have witnessed the attack had since been found dead.

Regardless of this, for some reason, the leaders of the British Union of Fascists seem to have believed that a Jewish man by the name of Alfie Solomons was behind the attack. But there was one little problem, Alfie Solomon was dead. Or wasn’t he?

The men that were arrested used to work for Alfie Solomons and took the fall until your father set them free for lack of evidence.

A week after this decision, a Jewish owned factory was bombed. The factory was owned by the men who were set free by your father and a company owned by a Trust.

Ten men were killed and, following some arrests, it became evident that Jimmy McCavern was behind the attack.

Jimmy McCavern was the leader of the Billy Boys and, over the course of another week, your father was able to make a connection through some documents admitted to evidence between Jimmy McCavern, Alfie Solomons and a man named Thomas Shelby who was the deputy leader of the British Union of Fascists.

An arrest warrant was issued against Jimmy McCavern and Thomas Shelby by the London police following your father’s advice to them. Since, apparently, Alfie Solomons was dead, no arrest warrant could be made against him.

Thomas Shelby was the first member of parliament who was subject to such warrant and your father may have just, like this, gotten himself a lot of enemies.

The men he had against him now were not only the Billy Boys but also the Peaky Blinders and it was too dangerous for you to continue to visit him in London.

Unfortunately, little did you know that the danger was about to lurk just in front of your doorstep.

An Unexpected Visit

It was a Wednesday evening at 8pm that you heard a rather loud knock on the front door of your cottage.

You didn’t expect anyone and approached the door with your loaded gun. It’s not that you had ever shot a gun, but you bought yourself one two days ago just in case you needed it.

‘Who is it?’ you asked from behind the closed door.

‘It’s Jesse Eden’ you’ve heard from behind the door and you immediately recognised Jesse’s voice.

You put the gun aside and unlocked the door.

To your surprise, Jesse wasn’t alone and your chin dropped as you saw the man standing right in front of you. You remembered him. He was the man who stood beside Oswald Mosley during his speech in Birmingham and you had met him before at a gala at Westminster.

His name was Thomas Shelby.

‘I think we have met before Miss Rosenberg’ Tommy said.

‘Yes, we have Mr Shelby’ you said nervously and frightened at the same time. You immediately wondered whether Jesse was under duress by him. Why otherwise would he be here with her you wondered.

You invited them both inside after Jesse made the request to come in. She wasn’t sure whether they had been followed.

To your surprise, Jesse soon told you that she required your help. According to her, Thomas Shelby had to lay low due to the arrest warrant issued by the London police.

If Thomas Shelby was to be arrested, he may be killed in prison before a hearing could be conducted.

Accordingly, Jesse asked you to hide him at your house until the charges against him are dropped.

‘You mean until the chief of police has been bribed enough to drop the charges?’ you chuckled in response to her request.

‘I wish it would be that easy Love’ Tommy said as he looked at the pictures on your living room wall. His hands were in his pockets and he almost looked unbothered by the situation.

‘You cannot be serious Jesse. You seriously want me to hide this man at my house?’ you said in disbelieve.

‘I am afraid I am serious Y/N’ Jesse responded.

‘Well, a fascist hiding at the house of a Jew, how ironic’ you said angrily, still unsure why Jesse was helping him.

‘I know we have gotten off on the wrong foot at the Westminster gala Miss Rosenberg, but I would greatly appreciate your help’ Tommy said, recalling his argument with your father in your presence in late 1929.

‘You think Mr Shelby?’ you chuckled. ‘You insulted my father and my entire family’ you said.

‘And for that, I apologise’ Tommy said politely but firmly.

‘Jesse, you need to explain to me why you are helping this man. I do not understand it’ you said.

‘I cannot give you more information Y/N. You just need to trust me on this, alright?’ Jesse asked almost fearfully.

‘Alright, but why me?’ you pondered.

‘Because you are the daughter of the judge hearing this matter. No one will think to look for me here, at your house’ Tommy explained.

‘Jesus’ was all you could respond with to Tommy’s comment.

‘Y/N, trust me, please. It’s for the cause’ Jesse said.

‘I find this hard to believe, but alright, he can stay’ you responded.

Not long after you agreed to house the deputy leader of the British Union of Fascists, Thomas Shelby, Jesse made her way back to Birmingham. It was a three-hour drive and she had to hurry before anyone became suspicious.

‘You will have to sleep on the lounge. Please help yourself to any food, water and drinks’ you said while you walked into another room to fetch a blanket, pillow and change of clothes for Tommy.

You still held on to your brother’s clothes which should have fitted Thomas just fine.

‘I thank you for your hospitality Miss Rosenberg and I apologise for intruding your space. I should be out of your hair within the week’ Tommy said as you came back to the living room and handed him everything he needed for his stay.

‘I am doing this for Jesse, not for you Mr Shelby. Although I do not quite understand why she is helping you’ you said just before you sat down in one of the arm chairs.

‘Let’s just say, we had a thing once, eh’ Tommy smirked.

‘I didn’t think that she would fall for a man like you’ you said.

‘A man like me, eh?’ Tommy chuckled.

‘Yes, a socialist turning to fascism. It’s rather disappointing’ you said.

‘Sometimes we do what we have to do Miss Rosenberg’ Tommy said.

‘Yes, if we didn’t, you wouldn’t be staying here, trust me’ you said before excusing yourself.

You made your way to your studio, painting and drinking wine. It was what you enjoyed most and you wanted to space from the stranger now living with you in the small cottage. A man you had literally nothing in common with and who you despised.

While you were painting, Tommy made use of your telephone and enjoyed some of your late brother’s whiskey.

It was obvious to you that he was struggling with being cooped up in your cottage and, just as your thoughts got lost in your paintings, you heard some a cracking noise near the door of your studio.

‘What are you doing?’ you asked as you noticed Tommy walking into your studio, looking through your many paintings.

‘You are talented. These paintings are extraordinary’ Tommy said.

‘Thank you, Mr Shelby’ you said with surprise. Had he really just complimented you?

His presence and closeness sent shivers down your spine. It wasn’t that you were frightened but you were clearly intimidated.

‘What are your plans, Miss Rosenberg?’ Tommy asked as he kept looking through the paintings.

‘My plans?’ you asked.

‘Your plans for the future? What are they?’ Tommy asked.

‘I am studying to become a nurse. Perhaps, one day get married and have children. The usual’ you said shyly.

‘Well, let me tell you, marriage is overrated’ Tommy chuckled before he asked how old you were.

‘I am 20’ you responded.

‘Still young with a life of opportunities ahead of you. Don’t waste them on the cause’ Tommy said.

‘Coming from a man who wastes his political career on fascism’ you said, causing Tommy to chuckle.

Your comment instantly sparked a political debate between you and Tommy which soon erupted into a heated argument.

During the argument he told you that you were too young to understand, ignorant and naïve and you were keen to throw him out of your house right then and there.

But, you bit your tongue and reminded yourself of the promise you made to Jesse.

You couldn’t stand him and his arrogance any longer and went to your bedroom, leaving him to debate about politics with himself.

Things Must Change

The next morning, you woke up early to attend the garden, ignoring Tommy as you left the house.

But, it wasn’t long until Tommy joined you in the garden. It was obvious to you that he was clearly bored.

‘What happened to the people who lived at the large house over there?’ Tommy asked as he walked outside to have a cigarette. You didn’t allow him to smoke inside the house.

‘They are in France for their annual vacation. Apparently, their fortune was unaffected by the stock market crash’ you responded.

‘Lucky them eh’ Tommy grinned as he grabbed some of the leather gardening cloves and a bucket from the side of the house.

Wearing his expensive suit and with the bucket in his hand and a cigarette in his mouth he walked over to the berry bushes where you were standing.

‘I might as well make myself useful eh’ he said jokingly as he began picking some berries.

‘Uhm yeah…but these aren’t ripe’ you giggled as you observed Tommy picking off some of the raspberries.

‘Right. Well, I usually don’t garden’ Tommy chuckled.

‘I couldn’t tell’ you laughed, causing Tommy to smile back at you.

This was the first time you noticed him smile. It was a gentle smile and it suited him.

Tommy helped you in the garden for the remainder of the day. It wasn’t like he had something else to do other than make phone calls to his brother and someone by the name of Kent.

You managed to keep your arguments to a minimum and you started to worry that you were slowly beginning to enjoy his company.

Later that evening, following dinner, you even sat down together in front of the fireplace in the living room to drink whiskey and wine and make some conversation.

‘I have been checking on your calls, contacting the directory because I wanted to make sure that I am safe with you being here. I have been told that the last call from my number was made to the Crown Investigations Office’ you said with surprise as you poured Tommy a glass of whiskey. After everything that happened in the past, you still didn’t trust him.

‘That’s correct’ Tommy said.

‘The only reason I could think of as to why you were talking to an officer of the Crown while you have an arrest warrant against you is if you were working for the Crown yourself. Otherwise, you would be mad tipping them’ you said.

‘I was just trading information that might be useful. In exchange, I am hoping for the arrest warrant against me to be dropped’ Tommy explained.

‘Mr Shelby, do you actually believe in fascism? I have not heard you speak about your party’s ideals since you’ve been here. We spoke about politics but you still seem to be a socialist at heart. So tell me, why do you follow this mad man Mosely? I am curious’ you said.

‘The thing about political parties is that they take the course into the direction in which they are steered. Much like a car. But just like with a car, if you fill it with the wrong fuel and the engine breaks down as a result, you will be going nowhere’ Tommy said as he took a drink.

‘And you are the fuel Mr Shelby?’ you asked with curiosity.

‘Yes, I am the fuel Miss Rosenberg’ he said.

‘Your intention is to undermine Mosley on behalf of the Crown. Jesse knew and this is why she helped you, isn’t it?’ you said after pondering on about what Tommy had just told you.

‘And now that you know this as well, it makes you my accomplice. I might be able to use your help Miss Rosenberg’ Tommy said.

‘If it helps to end fascism, perhaps I am willing to give it’ you said with a smile. ‘But I am curious now Mr Shelby. Was it you who initiated the attack on Mosley?’ you asked.

‘I rather not answer Miss Rosenberg’ Tommy said.

‘I understand. Also, you can call me Y/N now that we aren’t enemies after all’ you said.

‘Alright Y/N, then I insist that you call me Tommy’ he responded.

After some more conversation you decided that it was time for you to make your way to bed. It was late and you had to get up early to attend the animals.

Nightmares

Falling asleep that night was easy. You felt much safer now despite Tommy’s presence. You knew he wasn’t going to harm you.

But just as easy as you had fallen asleep, you were woken up by a loud noise coming from the living room at 1am.

‘Tommy, are you alright?’ you asked worryingly as you walked downstairs in a haste, wearing nothing but your silk nightgown.

‘My apologies, I didn’t intend to wake you’ Tommy said as he sat on the lounge, covered in sweat.

You initially thought that he might haven gotten sick until you saw a small empty bottle on the living room table. Your brother used to have one just like it which he carried around everywhere. It contained Liquid Opium and helped him sleep. He took it every night until, one day, he stopped. The withdrawal was barely manageable and his addiction soon rebounded.

You knew what this was. You had seen it before.

‘I will make you some tea to help you sleep’ you said kindly as you observed Tommy’s struggles.

‘I don’t think that tea will help me sleep Love’ Tommy chuckled.

‘My brother used to have nightmares after France. When he returned home, my mother made this for him and he managed to get at least some sleep. It’s worth a try’ you said with a warm smile. You knew Tommy had been to France. You had spoken about it when you spoke about your brother earlier that evening.

‘I suppose why not, eh’ Tommy said as he walked to the bathroom to clean himself off with a cold wet flannel.

After you put on the kettle, you walked to the studio and grabbed some more of your brother’s clothes.

‘These should fit you’ you said shyly as you handed Tommy a clean plain shirt and pants.

‘Thank you, Y/N’ he said as he took the clothes.

This was the first time you saw Tommy without a shirt and, despite his level of exhaustion, it was quite a sight. He certainly was a very attractive man.

After Tommy had gotten himself changed, you sat down next to him and handed him the cup of tea.

‘Do you want to talk?’ you asked.

‘It’s the middle of the night Y/N, you should get some sleep’ Tommy said.

‘It’s alright. I am not tired’ you said with a warm smile.

That night Tommy spoke with you about everything. About France and his late wife Grace who visited him in his dreams. He didn’t know why, but he felt as though he could talk to you and trust you.

At 4am, you eventually fell asleep on the lounge next to Tommy which is where you woke up the next morning covered with a warm blanket.

The fire was lid and there was a note on the coffee table as you woke.

‘Borrowed your hunting rifle, will be back by 8’ the note said.

You didn’t know how to hunt and had been telling Tommy how your brother shot bucks whenever you came to visit him at the cottage from London. You would then prepare it with veggies from the garden just the way your mother had shown you.

You thought that, perhaps, Tommy was better equipped than you when it came to hunting. You struggled enough even just to slaughter a chook from the farm and your intake of meat was clearly lacking as a result.

Attacked

With Tommy gone, you decided to attend to the horses. Grabbing your shovel and rake, you walked into the stables.

But, just as you walked inside, you could hear a loud noise from behind the barn.

You wondered whether it was Tommy and approached the back area of the property carefully. After all, he had a loaded gun and you certainly didn’t want to get shot accidently.

Just as you walked to the side of the property, you saw a strange man.

‘Hello Love’ the man said, cocking his gun.

‘Who are you and what do you want?’ you asked holding on to your rake tightly.

‘We’ve got a dispute to settle with some Jews Love. Now be a good girl and put down this rake would you’ the man said firmly.

You obliged and the man approached you slowly.

‘Now Love, we will be having a good time and then we will visit your father’ the man said just before he called for another man who was at the back of the barn.

Within an instant, the man grabbed your wrists and pushed you against the outer wall of the barn.

‘Such are pretty thing aren’t you’ the man said as he aimed to cover your mouth while moving away your skirt.

But, just when the man’s hand reached your mouth, you bit him firmly just before yelling for help.

‘You fucking bitch’ the man said as he reached for his gun.

In this moment, you heard a shot. The other man was hit, but barely and went to check out where the shot came from.

With both men distracted, you ceased the moment and pulled out the gardening scissors you were carrying in your thin jacket. Within an instant and without thinking, you rammed the scissor into the neck of the man who was still standing right there in front of you.

This was all it took for the man to fall to the ground. You couldn’t help it but scream as your hands and blouse were covered in the man’s blood.

You were besides yourself, sitting on the ground next to his dying body in shock, unable to do anything.

After what felt like an eternity, you saw Tommy approach you, making his way through the veggie patch carrying your hunting rifle and covered in blood himself.

‘Are you alright Y/N?’ he asked as he kneeled down next to you, comforting you.

‘There is another man Tommy, he walked to towards the berry field’ you said.

‘I know. He’s dead now and so is the third man who was driving them here’ Tommy said.

‘Did you kill them?’ you asked.

‘Yes, I did’ he said and, just in that moment, you threw his arms around him.

This is when you realised that he had been injured and was in agony himself.

‘Tommy, you’ve been shot’ you said with worry as you saw blood staining through his white shirt.

‘Yes’ was all he managed to say at this point as he was losing blood.

‘We will get you to a hospital’ you said in a haste.

‘No hospital Y/N. I will be taken into custody if I set foot in a public place like this until the arrest warrant has been dropped’ Tommy said.

You could see the agony on his face as he held onto the side of his chest. He was in pain. A lot of pain.

‘You are nurse, aren’t you?’ Tommy asked, breathing heavily.

‘I am a student nurse Tommy. I have not practiced on a life person’ you said worryingly.

‘Well, it’s about time then eh’ Tommy chuckled.

‘Tommy, you can’t be serious’ you said.

‘I am serious Y/N. I need you to do this, please’ Tommy said.

‘Alright, common’ you said nervously. It wasn’t like you had a choice. Tommy was bleeding a lot and his wound needed attention immediately.

With haste, you walked inside with Tommy and placed a towel over the lounge and got your first aid kit as well as a bottle of vodka from the dining room. You then went to the bathroom quickly to get a bowl of clean water and more towels.

While you were getting everything ready, Tommy made a phone call to his brother Arthur, giving him your address. By that point, Tommy was barely able to stand up.

As you returned from the kitchen, you helped Tommy to remove his blood-soaked clothes.

You gasped for a moment. You weren’t sure whether the blood or the sight of his naked body took away your breath.

‘You’ve got whiskey?’ Tommy asked.

‘Tommy, I don’t think it matters which alcohol I use to clean out your wound’ you said as you got everything ready on the table.

‘To drink. Trust me, I’ll need it. I am out of Opium’ he said, his breathing still laboured.

‘Yes, of course’ you said before you poured him a large glass of whiskey and handed it to him.

He drank all of it in an instant before lying down.

‘This is going to hurt’ you said as you cleaned your hands and the tweezers from your first aid kit with some of the vodka.

‘I know’ he said, taking in a deep breath.

‘You have to stay still’ you went on as you reached for his wound which was still profusely pouring blood.

‘I know’ he said again before closing his eyes and holding on to the edge of the lounge in anticipation.

As soon as you entered the wounds with your fingers and the tweezers, all that you could hear was a loud grunt.

‘Fuck’ Tommy screamed as your fingers went in deeper, retrieving the bullet from his wound. By this point, you were breathing as heavily as him.

‘I’ve got it Tommy, don’t move now’ you said as you carefully pulled the bullet out of his flesh.

Tommy took in a deep breath and, with another loud grunt, you dislodged the bullet.

It was intact and you sighed with relief while Tommy opened his eyes, looking at you in agony.

‘Now I will clean up the wound and stitch it, alright?’ you asked, causing Tommy to nod.

He let out another loud grunt as you poured some of the vodka over his wound before handing him a clean towel to apply pressure to the wound while you prepared the stitches.

His face was expressionless when you placed the stitches. You knew that the worst pain was over but, nonetheless, you were surprised by how well he had handled it.

This was when you noticed several large scars across his chest and arms. Almost too many to count.

‘You have been shot before, haven’t you?’ you asked while Tommy looked almost relaxed when you placed the sixth stitch.

‘Just a few times’ he smirked.

While you placed the last stitch, you could hear a car pull up in front of your door.

You opened the door quickly before applying a bandage around Tommy’s chest.

‘Fucking Hell Brother’ Arthur shouted as he walked into the living room with Isiah.

‘Arthur, this is Y/N’ Tommy said by way of introduction.

You quickly shook Arthur’s hand by which he was rather surprised.

‘Who the fuck did this?’ Arthur asked.

‘The Billy Boys. But they weren’t after me. They were after her’ Tommy explained.

‘Why?’ Arthur asked.

‘Because she is the daughter of the judge hearing the McCaven matter. I assume they wanted to send a message’ Tommy said.

‘Did they see you?’ Arthur asked.

‘Yes, but it doesn’t matter. They are dead’ Tommy responded.

‘Alright, what do you want us to do with the bodies? Send a message?’ Arthur asked.

‘Burry them behind the property. This never happened. They just disappeared and never made it here. By the time McCaven finds out the arrest warrants will be dropped and I can deal with the situation and Mosley’ Tommy instructed.

Arthur and Isiah attended the bodies as instructed by Tommy. You were surprised how quickly and efficiently they made the bodies disappear without any evidence whatsoever. It was clear to you that they had done this kind of thing before.

Before they left, Tommy gave Arthur a note to give to Jesse Eden and a note to give to a person named Kent.

In return Arthur gave Tommy three guns, a change of clothes and a bottle of opium.

After Arthur and Isiah had left, you made sure that Tommy was resting. After all, he had lost a lot of blood and you didn’t want him to pull a stitch.

Tender Moments

‘Do you have any more of that tea?’ Tommy asked as he held on to the bottle of opium that Arthur had given him. He starred at it, but didn’t open it.

‘Yes, sure. I will make some’ you said.

You were surprised by Tommy’s request but didn’t dare to argue.

You sat down next to him to have some tea while he placed the bottle of opium on the table in front of him.

‘Tommy, don’t’ you said.

‘Don’t what?’ he asked.

‘The opium, don’t take it’ you said.

‘Well, then put it away somewhere I cannot find it eh’ Tommy said as he handed you the bottle and you obliged with his request.

Tommy knew he would be regretting this soon, at night when his nightmares would wake him once again. It wasn’t the pain he couldn’t handle, but rather it was Grace’s visits in his dreams and dreaming about France hat destroyed him.

He was afraid of going to sleep but he needed sleep badly especially after today and so did you.

‘Are you not going to sleep?’ Tommy asked as clock struck midnight and you were still there with him talking about matters which he never talked to anyone about. He felt like he could confine in you and, despite your young age, you understood and you cared.

‘I don’t think I can. Not after what happened today. Not after what I have done’ you said as tears were building up in your eyes for the third time that evening.

‘Y/N, listen to me, alright?’ he said, caressing your face gently.

‘What you have done saved your life. These men were here to hurt you and now they can’t. You are safe now’ Tommy said as tears began to run down your cheek.

‘I killed someone Tommy’ you said in disarray.

‘You killed a bad man’ Tommy said as he used his thumbs to wipe away your tears.

‘It’s still a man Tommy’ you said before pressing your head against his chest. ‘Will the picture of him ever leave my head?’ you asked.

‘No Y/N, it won’t. But your guilt will, that I promise’ Tommy said. ‘Now, let’s get you some rest, eh?’ Tommy said.

‘Will you come with me Tommy?’ you asked nervously, knowing that your question was somewhat unusual.

‘Come with you? To bed?’ Tommy asked with surprise.

‘Yes, just to sleep by my side. I am scared Tommy’ you said.

‘I never had a woman ask me to join her in her bed simply for the purpose of sleeping, but alright, I suppose I can do that’ Tommy smirked before he followed you upstairs.

As Tommy lied down next you, bandaged up and wearing not much more than his white undergarments, you could feel something unusual. It was almost like some sort of warmth which was flowing through your chest.

‘Do you want me to turn off the light?’ Tommy asked as he got comfortable on the large white pillow, facing you and starring into your dark eyes.

‘Not yet. Perhaps we could talk for a little longer’ you said as you looked into his comforting blue eyes.

‘Alright, what you want to talk about?’ he asked and this is when you brought up his current wife Lizzie and his children.

‘What about your wife and children, where are they?’ you asked.

‘They are in Scotland, where, apparently they are safe from all this and from myself’ Tommy said with some disappointment.

‘From yourself? But they are your children’ you asked with some confusion.

‘They are, but they are indeed safer without me until I sort things out’ Tommy explained.

‘Do you miss your wife’ you asked.

‘No, I do not miss my wife. She filed for divorce six weeks ago’ Tommy said.

‘You do not seem upset about it. Why is that?’ you asked.

‘Because I know that it’s the right thing to do, to keep her safe. Our relationship was never one made of love. I never loved her the way a husband should love his wife. But, she is mother of my daughter and she cares deeply for my son. I trust her. She’s always been loyal to me and to the Company’ Tommy explained.

‘That’s nice…to have someone like this in your life’ you said.

‘It is indeed. Now you should get some rest eh’ Tommy said as he turned off the bedside lamp.

To his surprise, as soon as he turned off the light, you leaned over towards him carefully and rested your head on the uninjured side of his chest.

He let you and wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close until you drifted off to sleep.

This was the first time for Thomas Shelby since he came back from France that he shared a bed with a woman other than his wife who didn’t have any sexual interactions with. To his surprise, despite the pain after having been shot, he slept better than he had expected. In the absence of nightmares, he was well rested until, after five hours of sleep, the next morning you heard a loud bang on the door.

Taking a Turn

You walked downstairs again with your loaded gun in your hand.

‘Who is it?’ you asked as you approached the door carefully.

‘Jesse Eden’ the person said and you quickly opened the door while Tommy came walking downstairs, out of your bedroom.

‘I actually just came here to make sure you didn’t kill each other but it looks like you’ve managed to become acquainted’ Jesse giggled.

‘It’s not what it looks like’ you said as Tommy walked out of your bedroom wearing nothing but his undergarments.

‘I assume Tommy has informed you about our past relations. But, for the record, I no longer have any interest in the man, so it’s quite alright with me if it is what looks like Y/N’ Jesse laughed.

‘You are no longer interested, eh?’ Tommy said to Jesse with a cheeky smile.

‘Unless you have forgotten, you ended up marrying someone else’ Jesse said.

‘Should I give you two some privacy?’ you asked as you felt uncomfortable being caught in between their conversation about old times.

‘No Y/N, there is no need eh Jesse?’ Tommy said with a laugh.

‘No there is not. Arthur came to see me last night to give me your note. But he hadn’t said anything about you having been injured’ Jesse said.

‘It’s alright, she’s a nurse. I got lucky’ Tommy chuckled.

‘Well, I am glad because I have information from one of my informants that will be of interest to you now that you are still alive. The Crown prosecutor was removed from the case and so was the chief of police. Apparently, it was found out that they both involved themselves with illegal prostitutes at some of your brothels’ Jesse said.

‘Now that is interesting, isn’t it?’ Tommy smirked.

‘You obviously knew and blackmailed them. The man in charge of the matter is now your friend Lawrence Staghill who, I believe, is filing for a motion to dismiss for lack of evidence in front of the judge who still owes you a lot of money. So, it looks like that everything is going to plan for you once again Thomas Shelby OBE. You should be free to leave after the next three days. The case is to be heard after the weekend’ Jesse said.

‘You hear that? Three more days and I will be out of your hair Y/N’ Tommy said.

‘I can’t wait’ you said cheekily and with a hint of sarcasm.

Jesse stayed for a little while longer before heading back to Birmingham and you made sure that, for the entire day, Tommy rested.

It was hard for Tommy to rest. It was almost like he needed to do something at all times. He wasn’t a man who could ever just sit still and, say, read a book. His mind had to busy constantly and he loved to be challenged.

For you, the day went by quickly and looking after Tommy was almost like looking after a child who refuses to listen.

Gone Too Far

‘I see you made yourself a bed on the sofa again’ you said as you noticed Tommy putting the blanket and pillow on the sofa.

‘Whilst I enjoyed our pillow talk, I figured that last night was an exception. Unless you think you might have difficulty sleeping again’ Tommy smirked.

‘I think I just might’ you said with a smile as you finished brushing your hair.

‘Alright, I will take my pillow and blanket upstairs then eh’ Tommy said.

‘Alright, see you up there’ you smiled, causing Tommy to chuckle.

This was strange indeed, but he figured that, at least, the bed was more comfortable than the lounge.

‘So, what do you want to talk about tonight, eh?’ Tommy asked as you walked into the bedroom with a glass of water and two white pills.

‘I went to the chemist today. This should prevent infection’ you said you said as you handed him the glass and the tablets.

‘Thank you’ Tommy said as you lied down next to him.

He swallowed the tablets and waited for you to say something, start a conversation of some sort.

But you didn’t. You lied there quietly, your dark eyes gazing over his half naked body.

In this moment, he didn’t know what came over him but, just as he leaned to lie on his uninjured side, he ran his hands through your hair and his eyes met yours.

‘I haven’t met anyone quite like you’ Tommy said.

‘Why is that?’ you asked.

‘I am not sure. There is something about you that intrigues me. That doesn’t happen very often’ Tommy said and, just as he did, you leaned forward and your lips met his.

His lips were soft and still tasted like whiskey.

Reluctantly at first, he returned the kiss, gently but passionately.

It was a short kiss and your tongues never touched by the time you lips drifted apart.

Once your lips separated you starred at each other, questioning in your mind what had just happened between you.

With embarrassment, you pulled away and turned around quickly.

‘Goodnight Tommy’ you said after you turned around. You turned off the night light and pulled your blanket over you tightly.

‘Goodnight Y/N’ Tommy said with a slight chuckle, still facing into your direction.

Despite the fact that Tommy had been on your mind now for days, you were surprised by your own actions and wanted to pretend that the kiss between you just moments ago didn’t happen.

You knew about his past, the killings, the illegal businesses, everything. He was a man you knew you shouldn’t get involved with. He was also still married and, at least in the eye of the public, he was a fascist.

You tried very hard to ignore the fact that he was lying next to you, half naked. The fire was lightening the room slightly and you simply couldn’t close your eyes, starring to the other end of the room.

For ten minutes you tried to lie still, but couldn’t. You fidgeted and kept starring up and then to the side again.

‘Do you want me to help you go to sleep?’ Tommy asked as he noticed your restlessness, which instantly broke the silence between you.

‘Help me go to sleep?’ you asked with some confusion and without turning around to face him. You were still to embarrassed to look at him.

‘Yes’ Tommy said as, suddenly, you could feel his body moving closer towards yours but still separated by your individual blankets.

‘What do you mean by that Tommy?’ you asked with some ignorance and, just when you did, you could feel the back of your blanket lift slightly.

Within seconds, Tommy’s fingers trailed over your bare shoulders downwards over your small breasts which were covered by nothing but your silk nightgown.

Your nipple turned hard instantly at his touch and you let out a deep sigh.

‘Tommy, I have never been with anyone before’ you said, allowing his touch but worrying about what he was intending to do to you.

‘Don’t worry Love, I am not going to fuck you. At least not in the conventional way’ Tommy chuckled as his fingers circled over your hard nipples.

You had no idea what he could possibly mean by that. Did he not find you attractive? What was he going to do to you then if not that?

‘So, you don’t want me?’ you asked curiously while small moans escaped your lips as the tips of his fingers continued to run circles over your nipples.

‘I want you alright. But I am not keen on tearing my stitches’ Tommy said as his hands began to take hold of your breasts harder.

You moaned at his touch and felt a strange and unfamiliar sensation build up in between your legs.

It wasn’t long until you felt his fingers move downwards over your stomach until they finally began teasing the top of your mound through your panties.

‘Tommy, I don’t think I will be going to sleep with you touching me like this’ you said with heavy breath. You wondered how on earth this was actually going to help you go to sleep.

‘I hope not’ Tommy laughed quietly. ‘But once I am done with you, you will sleep very well, that I promise’ he whispered into your before biting your earlobe gently.

You took in a deep breath and moaned quietly. The feeling of his hot breath was intense.

‘So do you want me to continue?’ he whispered.

You couldn't say yes. But you also couldn't say no. Instead, all that escaped your lips was another soft moan.

‘I need to hear you say it Love. Tell me you want me to keep going’ he said.

You whimpered under his touch, your hips now rocking to meet his hand. But he held firm.

‘I...it feels really good’ was all you could manage to say.

‘And you want me to continue?’ he asked as his fingers moved a little lower, over your panties, expertly brushing over your clit.

‘Yes Tommy, please continue’ you moaned and, just like that, Tommy slit his hand beneath your panties, running his fingers directly over your wet slit, dipping only the top of them into you gently.

He then began to rub his wet finger tips over your clit, circling around your hard nub with light pressure.

‘Oh my god Tommy’ you moaned as you never felt anything just like that.

After a minute or two, Tommy gently slid one finger into you, looking out for any cues from you to ensure that he didn’t hurt you now that he knew that you were a virgin.

You were so tight, it was almost too much to start and he could feel the resistance of your hymen within you. But he kept going, carefully and gently thrusting his finger in and out of you at a slow pace.

You moaned softly and Tommy loved pulling a reaction out of you. It was almost like it was his goal to break your normally stoic composure.

Tommy wanted to know that you were enjoying what he was doing.

He began sliding his finger in and out of you all the way slowly at first, but not long after he started to build speed.

You enjoyed the alternating feeling between emptiness and fulness inside of you and were making the most delicious noises now. Your eyes were completely closed and you were moaning louder.

Suddenly Tommy slipped a second finger inside of you just to give you a little extra jolt and you reacted better than he could have expected.

It was slightly painful at first but the mild pain soon subsided and turned into pleasure.

‘Tommy, oh god...fuck’ you moaned as you began squirming just slightly and moaning a bit louder.

As his fingers kept thrusting in and out of you, your breathing became heavier and your legs began to quiver.

His thumb soon gave extra attention to your clit while he kept up with the movement of his middle and index finger.

Your moans kept getting more frequent now and you were certainly getting wetter too as Tommy kept going faster and harder.

You couldn’t believe how good he was making you feel with his fingers but you also didn’t know what to expect when an overwhelming sensation of warmth and tingling overcame you slowly.

‘Tommy, I don’t know if this is right. It feels strange’ you moaned as your legs began to shake and you couldn’t control your movements.

You tried to squirm away as the feeling was too unfamiliar to you. But Tommy persisted, pushing his hand firmer against you and his fingers even deeper inside of you.

‘Does it feel good?’ Tommy asked, knowing already what your answer would be as he could feel your walls tightening around his fingers.

‘Yes Tommy’ you managed to let out in between moans.

‘Then its right Love’ Tommy smirked. ‘Just relax and let go eh’ Tommy whispered.

You moaned once again, louder than before, and gave into the sensation.

It was intense, so intense that you had to clench onto the sheets and, just like this your orgasm washed over you.

You were a shaking mess and Tommy kept up the speed with his fingers until your orgasm slowly began to subside.

‘Fuck, what the hell just happened?’ you said once you began to calm down and while Tommy still stroked the outside of your now soaked mound.

‘Did you never have an orgasm before?’ Tommy asked surprised and with curiosity.

‘Like this? No. Never’ you said. Of course, you pleasured yourself before but the sensation was different, way less intense than what Tommy just managed to do to you.

As Tommy removed his hand from you, you turned around, your cheeks flushed. It was almost like you were embarrassed to look at him after what had just happened.

‘Feeling relaxed now?’ Tommy asked with a grin on his face.

‘Yes…uhm…thank you’ you said shyly.

‘It’s my pleasure’ Tommy said with a smile before giving you gentle kiss. You could have spent all night just kissing him. He was good at it and his lips were full and soft.

‘You should get some sleep now, eh’ he said after your lips drifted apart and he caressed your face.

‘Is there anything I could do to return the favour?’ you asked shyly, feeling somewhat guilty about the way he made you feel with nothing in return.

‘No, not tonight Love’ Tommy said as he pulled you closer. Whilst he had the desire to be with you that night, he was still not well enough after his injury and felt as though he should give you time. You were inexperienced and this was new territory for you, possibly overwhelming. Just like this, you had awoken the soft and gentle side of Thomas Shelby and that, in itself, brought him out of his own comfort zone.

He did not know what to do or how to act. The only woman who had managed to do this to him after he’s fought in France was his late wife Grace and he was certain that he would never meet another woman like this again. A woman he would care for in the same way he cared for Grace. Having met you changed everything for him that night and he struggled with the idea to accept his fade, especially with a woman half his age and who was the daughter of the man who tried very hard to bring him down.

Thus, as you leaned your head against his chest carefully, making sure that you didn’t lean against his wound, he couldn’t help but stare at you and ponder about what had brought him to you. Perhaps it was meant to be.

‘What’s wrong Tommy?’ you asked as you began to notice his eyes being fixated on you as he ran one of his hands through your hair gently.

‘Nothing, just enjoying the moment’ he said.

‘Me too Tommy’ you responded before closing your eyes and drifting off to sleep.

Change of Heart

The next morning, when you woke up, Tommy was not by your side. His side of the bed was empty.

But, when you walked downstairs you could see him, sitting in the dining room area with a pen and paper.

You weren’t sure what he was writing and you weren’t sure how to approach him after last night.

You decided to go with a kiss and, just after you said good morning and leaned in to kiss him, Tommy pulled away.

That was unexpected and you looked at him, full of questions.

‘Last night was a mistake Y/N for which I apologise. I should not have been temped’ Tommy said.

‘A mistake? Right’ you said as you walked over to the kitchen bench to boil the kettle. Small tears were running down your eyes and you tried hard to hide them from Tommy.

You had begun to care for him and you most clearly were developing feelings for him.

‘Y/N?’ Tommy said as he noticed you being upset.

‘Tommy, please just give me some space alright’ you said as you walked into the studio with your cup of tea.

You were embarrassed and you felt weak. Yet you wanted to be strong.

Were you too naïve, failing for a man like him?

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tressasinterlude · 3 years

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𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐓 #𝟑: Female Public Figures Dating Men with Questionable Views That Contradict Their Image & Alleged Politics

𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗖𝗟𝗔𝗜𝗠𝗘𝗥: These rant blog posts are really just reflective of my thoughts at the time that I make them and are posted here because I need an outlet to release all of this shit I have going on my busy ass mind. That’s it and that’s all. Now let’s get into it..

This rant was greatly inspired by none other than Ms. Robyn Rihanna “Tell Your Faves To Pull Up [in regards to social injustices directly affecting black people]” Fenty and her openly colorist boyfriend, A$AP Rocky. Aside from the fact that Rihanna tends to slip under the radar and is never held accountable for her problematic ways due to her conventional beauty (i.e. Her heavy usage of anti-Asian slurs, particularly targeted towards Chris Brown’s ex gf, Karrueche), it’s very alarming that a woman who has an entire makeup brand with a campaign based around the inclusivity of ALL black women is publicly flaunting a beau who once said that DSBW do not look good with red lipstick.

And yes, I’m very much aware that Rakim said this tasteless comment over 8 years ago but from the looks of it, not much has really changed with him. Don’t @ me about it neither because I don’t care.

Also peep how he compares a hypothetical darkskinned woman to a man (Wesley Snipes) while trying to explain how his antiblackness isn’t wrong because he said something about white women as well. Gaslighting at its finest. Don’t you just love it! 😀

Furthermore, you would think that somebody of Rihanna’s level of stature would know not to associate themselves with someone as messy as A$AP Rocky but... Stupid is what stupid does, I guess! I can’t even begin to place the blame on him anymore because he’s revealed his true colors and we all have made the deliberate choice to either accept it or don’t and have discontinued all support for him. Unfortunately, misogynoir is never the dealbreaker for most people and the hatred for [dark-skinned] black women is so engrained in society that it’s frowned upon when we publicly speak out against it. Very ass backwards if you ask me but that’s society for you. Now, enough about that. Let’s focus back on Ms. Vita La Coco.

As a woman who claims to be a girl’s girl and is always presenting herself to be someone who is the epitome of a pro-black feminist bad ass, it just makes her alleged activism come off so disingenuous when she’s also laying down with the same man that actively attacks the demographic she’s supposed to be standing in solidarity with. It’s “Black Lives Matter” on the IG posts but your vagina is getting moist for a man who openly stated he doesn’t relate to what goes on in Ferguson because he lives in Soho & Beverly Hills. Ferguson being the exact place where a 17-year-old black boy’s lifeless corpse laid on the hot concrete for FOUR hours after he was murdered by a police officer. He couldn’t 'relate' to the fate of so many black men, women, and children who are murdered or seriously injured from state-sanctioned violence because they’re poor and he is not or so he thought.

But then again, what can I really expect from a woman who identified as being “biracial” until as recent as roughly 6 years ago? What can I really expect from a woman who called Rachel Dolezal a ‘hero’ for cosplaying as a black woman? I’d be lying if I said my expectations for her were high in this regard because sis has always shown us she was lacking in this department. And just for the record, this is not a personal attack on Rihanna at all for the die-hard Navy stans in the back. I admire her latest fashions and bop my head to her music just like the next person but she’s getting the side-eye from me on this one.

Trust and believe me though, she’s not the only woman who I can call out for being a hypocrite. Of course not! This stone can be cast at a few others. So without further ado, why don’t we bring Ms. Kehlani Parrish to the front of the congregation? Prior to Kehlani’s recent declaration of identifying as a lesbian, her last public relationship with a man was with YG. Yes, the same YG who felt it was necessary to say him & Nipsey had ‘pretty light-skinned’ daughters to raise in the middle of his deceased friend’s memorial. By the way, Nipsey’s daughter is not even light (or at least not in my book anyways.) She’s a very deep caramel tone just like her father which makes what he said even more moronic. Yes, the same YG who thought it was clever idea to use slavery as an aesthetic for a music video to a diss track about 6ix9ine. And yes, also the same YG who has derogatory lyrics targeted at bisexual women. Just to end up sweating the red carpets with one. I swear the jokes just continue to write themselves.

This raises the question once more; How high of a pedestal can I really put a multiracial woman who has a song titled ‘N*ggas’ and when received backlash for the song in question, she used the ultimate ‘I’m mixed’ copout while not having a visibly black parent in sight?

It’s also kind of suspicious to me that many were not privy to Kehlani’s secret romance with Victoria Monét (pictured bottom right) until Victoria did an interview with Gay Times revealing she fell in love with a girl but they subsequently broke up because Victoria had a boyfriend and that girl was pregnant in a polyamorous relationship. Fans began to speculate because both Victoria & Kehlani previously candidly spoke about their sexual orientations, Kehlani had just had Adeya and they both were seemingly close. Their short-lived fling would later be confirmed when Victoria released the song ‘Touch Me’ on her last project and Kehlani hopped on the remix. Meanwhile, Kehlani’s relationship with Shaina (pictured bottom left) was very overt and all over her Instagram feed from my recollection. And as you can see, Shaina looks absolutely nothing like Victoria. They look like the complete opposite of eachother in every aspect which is kind of alarming(?) to say the least because why is it that the women she proudly claims as her partners tend to have a very racially ambiguous look such as herself but her ‘sneaky links’ on the other hand are undoubtedly black women? Again, it could just be me jumping conclusions. You know, I’m kinda good for that however something tells me I’m not. Y’all be the judge of the material though.

Last but not least, I’d like to touch on Ms. Raven Tracy very briefly. I was very weary about even including in this segment and if I should just put her in a entirely separate blog post with other women who openly date abusers despite their checkered past (alongside Nicki Minaj & her r*pist murderer of a husband, India Love & Sheck Wes etc.) being this particular blog post was based around the theme of lightskinned/mixed women dating men with extremely problematic views about DSBW. Raven obviously isn’t lightskinned or mixed however I refused to ignore how contradictory her [former] relationship with an alleged (I used this word very loosely and mainly for legality purposes.) serial r*pist while promoting a brand that is all about feminism & body positivity. This also traces back to A$AP Rocky by default being that Ian Connor is his very close friend and he came to Connor’s defense when several women came forward detailing accounts of Connor allegedly s*xually assaulting them. (I wish I could place the actual video of what A$AP Rocky said verbatim but Tumblr only allows one video per blog post. 🙄)

Back in June of this year, Ian & Raven had a back & forth on Twitter after Ian tweeted about Raven “fucking everybody” behind his back. I can only assume that he was alluding to Tori Brixx posting a video of her ex, Rich the Kid & Raven kissing on her story. Disgusted is not even the word to describe my feeling when she admitted she stuck by Ian despite of his many allegations of s*xual abuse because she loved him and her being a empath causes her to want to help everybody. Imagine aiding and abetting a predator and even paying for his bail & legal fees just to turn around and expect sympathy because this same individual cheated on you and exploited you all over Twitter for the public to see. The same man that you would get back with not even a WEEK after the fact & turn off your IG comments because it isn’t our “business” after making it our business...

That being said, I just genuinely want to know: Why do these women completely go against what they stand for in regards to these men? Maybe it was never genuine from jump street and if that’s the case, why jump on the bandwagon of performative activism? Is it because it’s profitable right now? Is it because disrespecting black women is not an immediate death sentence to your careers and more often than not actually helps you advance even further? I guess that’s the billion dollar question that’ll never truly be answered. I just want the world to stop using black women as their stepping stool to get to where they need to go and then discarding of us when we’re no longer beneficial. Support us all the way or don’t support us at all. We deal with enough disrespect as is so we’d appreciate if y’all would stop straddling the fence and partake in your misogynoir out loud if that’s what you choose to do. We have no use for fake allyship and quite frankly, it’s doing more harm for us than good. Please and thank you!

Sincerely,

- 𝙼𝙸𝚂𝚂 𝙴𝙳𝙶𝙰𝚁 𝙰𝙻𝙻𝙴𝙽 𝙷𝙾𝙴. 💋

#i’m finally done after having this sitting in the drafts for about a good month... or two. 🥴🥴#abuse apologists #pro black #activism #feminism #body posititivity #colorism #raven tracy #kehlani #rihanna #yg #asap rocky #rant #my uploads.

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anniebuddy · 2 years

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So me and @library-bat-girl got to talking about Steph’s Mom’s relationship with the Batfam, and like...there’s a lot I’d like to share and go more in-depth on (I’m so grateful there’s at least 1 other human being who will allow me to talk about Crystal Brown)

But it led me to this fanfic idea I spun out of one of those topics of conversation; get ready for a WHOLE-ass ramble -

In short, it’s her Mom’s first encounters with Bruce Wayne!

So like...all Steph’s Mom initially knows about Bruce is informed through her natural distrust of Gotham’s high class - having lived in an essential worker in a lower middle class neighborhood all her life - and straight-up tabloids. Thus her first impression is that he’s an irresponsible playboy who throws money at random personal pet projects, a reckless thrill-seeker who constantly disappears for months at a time only to come back with increasingly bizarre injuries, and a total press-obsessed eccentric who adopts a new orphan every other week.

Steph starts openly hanging around Wayne Manor once her relationship with Tim is made clear, and Crystal’s already sus. She wants Steph to make friends, but Bruce is the gossip equivalent of Kendall Jenner x a lot more money. First chance she gets, she has a very stern talk with him, warning him to not do any dumb shit if her kid is gonna be hanging around.

She is ESPECIALLY suspicious that Bruce wants to adopt Steph, and that the girl is going to be lured in by his party animal lifestyle and wanna be a Wayne too. Steph has to assure her (after bursting out laughing at the idea) that she’s not looking for that for a NUMBER of reasons. But Crystal can’t shake the fear that she’s going to look up to Bruce, even if she knows Steph should know better. At the very least, it means Steph has to fight tooth and nail if she ever wants to spend the night.

Eventually, Crystal does get to know him more, and realizes he’s not a total dumbass. Nonetheless, she only grows more convinced there’s something weird going on with him the more she learns about him. The mysterious nights off, the unexplained bruises...

So she pulls Steph aside one day.

She says she feels bad she has to say this, considering Bruce seems like a father figure toward her (something she completely denies (even though it’s totally true)), but there’s something weird about him.

Steph's first instinct is to say Bruce isn't weird, but once she realizes no one would ever believe that, she settles on "He's weird but he's harmless".

Crystal sighs, saying she doesn’t understand - Bruce is straight up a SUPERVILLAIN. She’s seen it all before with Cluemaster. I'm thinking this is after the point where she’d discovered Steph’s Spoiler identity, so she’s extra worried about Steph being hurt.

Steph laughs even harder than last time, but Crystal begs her to take this seriously. She’s gonna call the cops if nothing is done about it. So there’s not much more Steph can do except admit he’s Batman.

Crystal’s a bit relieved, confused, and then right back to upset - because if that’s the case, she now knows exactly why Steph hangs around him; this is all a part of that vigilante thing. Crystal already doesn’t approve of her Spoiler identity, and if it was danger she was worried about, there can only be much more associating with Batman. Not to mention, if there’s anyone with more tabloid coverage than Bruce Wayne...well, it’s too much for her - she forbids Steph from ever visiting again. And Steph once again blows up at her attempts to control her life. Crystal wants to call the cops now more than ever, but Steph says that’ll only make things harder for her - and, y’know...how hard that would be for his totally-not-in-on-it children. She relents to that, but decides to confront him herself (I refuse to believe Steph got her reckless courage from Arthur Brown of all people). She tells Steph to stay home, locking the door, and driving up to Wayne Manor.

Bruce kind of knows what’s happening the moment she walks up to him.

She’s telling him to back off, questioning why she’s bringing her daughter into all of this. Bruce doesn’t really have any good response. Some part of him even agrees with her, that he’s in no position to train Steph - but, in his Brucey way, he plays Switzerland. Crystal’s not having any of it - and starts dipping into conspiracy territory. Like; "Don't you kidnap children and indoctrinate them into your army of robins?"

“Uh...no?”

“DID YOU HYPNOTISE MY DAUGHTER?!”

“What? No!”

“I swear to god, I will stake you so fast!”

“I’m not a vampire…?”

Turns out Tim’s in the building, and obviously he knows that’s Crystal’s voice. Which means the jig is up. He figures maybe he can smooth things over (even though I feel like Crystal already has this belief that Tim is irresponsible as hell (I will probably make a post about this at some point)). But that only makes Crystal aware of the fact that Steph lied to her, and his kids are in on it. This is an “oh shit” moment for Tim bc that boy can be a genius, but, really needs to read social cues.

Crystal assures them that Steph will never have any contact with any of them again, and that if she does, she’s going straight to the police.

To be continued...maybe. I haven’t thought of a resolution yet ajkdhksjdhsk.

#stephanie brown #crystal brown #bruce wayne #tim drake #spoiler #batman #robin #batfam #headcanon #DC comics #fanfic #that i will never write

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moral-turpitudes · 3 years

Text

Little White Lies:

Masterlist | Rules | Peaky Prompts

Trigger Warnings: Angst, Dysfunctional Family, Unsupportive/Jealous Family Members, Fighting, Swearing, Fluff, etc.

Word Count: 4,266

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader

Requested: Yes

Requested by: Anon, you can find it here. (this was such a fun request, I hope I did it justice lol)

Summary: From dealing with unsupportive and envious family members, to being caught in a lie, Y/N is forced to face her family and confront her feelings about her boss, all thanks to a wedding invitation.

“What do you mean you’re working as a secretary? I put in a perfectly good recommendation for you last month at the hospital!” Y/N’s father yelled as she made her way into the living room of her parents house. The old walls poorly concealing their loud arguing.

“Did you stop and think about how maybe I don’t want to follow in you and Margaret’s footsteps? I thought you’d at least be happy I’ve found something I like! But no, it’s not good enough for you aye? Nothing I do ever is...” Y/N yelled back, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, his eyes boring into hers.

“Let’s face it, you and mum both like Margaret better because she has a “respectable job” as a doctor just like you. You pushed her off to the best schools, and only approve of her boyfriend because he’s a classy businessman.” She said lighting a cigarette.

“See? You’re already picking up bad habits Y/N. We just want the best for you.” Her mother said, plucking the cigarette out of her fingers and throwing it into the fireplace as her father looked to the ground with his arms folded.

“A secretary job is respectable. I keep the company from crashing down half the time.” She said.

“And what company is that? One where they shove you in a dark room to type papers all day?” Her mother scoffed back.

“Shelby Company Limited. It’s quite nice actually.” She said with a smirk.

“Isn’t that where the Peaky Blinders run the streets? I bet you’re dating one of them for christ’s sake!” Her father yelled, turning away from his daughter in disgust.

“What if I am?” She asked, balling her hands into fists at her sides.

“Who is it? I’ll get you transferred out in no time. No daughter of mine is working as a damn secretary in fucking Small Heath.” He said.

“Thomas Shelby.” She said, his name escaping her lips before she could think about what she’d done.

Her father tensed up at his name. His face paling in complexion as he sat down, his wife eyeing him with concern.

“The Thomas Shelby?” He asked, more quietly than before as if he was being watched.

“Mhmm. What is there a problem?” She asked, folding her arms over her chest.

“No...are you sure it’s him? He practically owns half of Birmingham. Although his reputation is not something I’m fond of...I guess if you legally work for him that’s...respectable.” He said, his tone softer and more accepting than earlier.

“Right, so now that I’m dating an infamous businessman, I’m more respectable as a secretary? Why the sudden change? I’m doing quite well on my own with this job.” She said as she observed his rigid body language. He hesitated to speak, remembering when the two older Shelby’s came in half-alive after being shot up by a rival gang.

“Well, given his reputation and my practice, I may have had a few run-ins with him at the hospital. It’s common knowledge not to get in their way but I did. I made him and his bastard of an older brother stay a week to heal after saving their asses.” He said, an annoyed look on his face.

“He threatened your father Y/N. We couldn’t even tell the coppers. But...please don’t get too proud over your position there darling. Your words could come back to you and he could find someone else by sundown.” Her mother said with a nice tone, trying but failing to take the sting out of her words.

She’d always been jealous it seemed. Seeing her daughters getting to achieve things that she couldn’t. Being led to a life of homemaking and hosting parties for her wealthy doctor of a husband. They never amassed the wealth like the Shelby family had, but they were able to afford a decent sized house in London, if that was any indication of her family’s status.

After a long, tense silence, she decided to leave. Saying a quick and frustrated goodbye to her parents before heading back to Small Heath. Her heart racing at the realization that she just openly told her parents she was dating her boss. It wouldn’t be as much of a problem if it were true, but alas it was nothing but a white lie. She had always been quiet on the subject despite them getting along well. Polly could see a connection, which she’d mentioned to her over tea various times, but she always shrugged it off. And now she knew it was only a matter of time before she had to tell him the truth.

As a few weeks passed, she continued with her clerical duties. Filing papers and reporting things to Thomas as usual. Until she got a call from home once again, requesting her presence immediately.

“Why do you all need me here anyway? I could be working right now.” Y/N said, impatiently tapping her foot on the lavish rug lining the hardwood floors of the living room.

“We wanted to give you this.” Her father said, flicking an envelope at her that she barely had time to catch.

The envelope was a light green color - her older sister Margaret’s favorite - with an intricately written invitation inside.

“Thomas Shelby and Y/N Y/L/N,

We cordially invite you to attend the union of Matthew Reynolds and Margaret Y/L/N. Formal attire will be expected at both the ceremony and reception.”

Her eyes grew wide at the invitation as she realized her parents must’ve told her sister about Thomas. Knowing nothing she did was ever kept private, unfortunately. But in that moment she knew she messed up, thinking about how she’d have to tell them it was all a lie. That she wasn’t dating the infamous gang leader. A feeling of panic and embarrassment washed over her as she realized the gravity of the situation.

“Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Her mother said.

“Y-yeah. Wasn’t expecting Margaret to invite me, let alone um...Thomas to her wedding. Are you all attending?” She asked nervously.

“Well of course! We can’t miss our best daughters wedding day.” Her mother said, not knowing how her words cut into Y/N.

“You’re loved as well. Your mother didn’t mean that. No one would dare disrespect a woman associated with Thomas Shelby. Right dear?” He said, hastily reassuring his daughter and looking at his wife with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh darling I didn’t mean it like that. We love both of you. I’m sorry...I’ll do better I promise.” She said giving her daughter a light hug.

“Please do. I’ll see you at the wedding.” Y/N said harshly, leaving the house in a hurry as she clutched the green envelope in her hand.

A week had passed since she’d set the invitation on her desk at work. The paper easily seen from anyone near her desk as not many envelopes were that color. It cost too much to make them given the financial troubles of the past few years, but of course her sister could afford it.

It was midnight though when Thomas walked by her desk out of habit, the lamp still on while Y/N had left for the night. The faint yellow glow illuminating the envelope as he raised an eyebrow at it. He quickly picked it up, reading the intricate handwriting on the letter inside as he noticed his name next to hers.

The next morning, Y/N walked to her desk to see that the invitation was missing. Her stomach doing flips as she wondered where it had gone.

“Y/N, can I see you in my office?” Thomas said as he leaned against the doorframe, his tailored suit catching her off-guard for a moment as she glanced at the man her heart ached after. Polly giving her a questionable glance and a small, knowing smirk as she walked reluctantly into his office.

He knew. He knew about the letter and she was dumb enough to leave it there last night. Dumb enough to lie to her parents. Dumb enough to harbor any feelings for the man who certainly wouldn’t admit any himself.

“Y/N...” He said, his low voice ripping her from her racing thoughts as she stood by the door.

“Y-yeah sorry. Busy morning. What do you need Tommy?” She asked, nervously fiddling with her hands.

“I need to discuss something with you. Please sit.” He said, walking over to his plethora of whiskey glasses and filling two of them with the brown liquid he loved so much. If anything, he’d probably marry a bottle of whiskey if he could.

“What is it you want to discuss?” Y/N asked, sipping from her glass as it burned its way down her throat.

“I found this on your desk. I know it wasn’t my business to go taking things, but I couldn’t help but notice my name was mentioned with yours...so now...it is my business.” He said, observing how she grew uncomfortable under his gaze, drinking more as she shifted in her seat.

“It’s a long story.” She said blankly while setting the glass down, wanting to flee out the door never to come back.

“And for once I have the time.” He said leaning backing in his chair and lighting one of his many cigarettes.

Y/N sighed and relaxed back into her seat, her heart skipping a beat as she thought of the best way to explain it to him.

“Alright...so my family is a bit backwards as you know. And happen to just adore my older sister Margaret. They funded her schooling, attended her graduations and awards ceremonies, and they uh...like that she’s dating - I mean - engaged to a businessman now. He’s what they consider successful.”

“Successful aye? What...they don’t think some razor-gang from Birmingham is successful?” He asked.

“No.” She answered, looking out the window as she continued.

“Anyway, when I visited them, they started saying things about the company and how my job wasn’t respectable. I tried to shut them down but um, my father accused me of dating one of ya, like it was a disgrace to the family. So I panicked and said that I wasn’t dating just any of them, I was dating you.” She said, looking down at the nearly empty glass in her trembling hands.

“What’d he say to that aye?” He asked, a small smirk playing on his usually stoic face.

“Oh his whole demeanor changed. Looked like he’d seen a ghost. He um...said he knew of you. Said he treated you and Arthur for a week after a bad night on the job.” She said, nervous he’d go after her father.

“Aye I remember him. A bit mouthy that one.” He said.

“You threatened him though. Why?” She asked, her nervousness turning to a bit of anger at the thought of him harming her parents, even if they weren’t the best.

“They wanted to report it to the coppers. And as you know now, we don’t deal too kindly with snitches. So I had to threaten him. To keep the peace.” He said, blowing a cloud of smoke towards her.

“I wouldn’t say peace. Fear would be a better word.” She said, sipping the last of her whiskey.

“It’s worked out for me so far.” He said.

“Yes it has Tommy...but I have one question.” She said.

“Mhmm?”

“Are you wanting to go to this bullshit wedding or not?” She asked bluntly, hoping her interrogation would be over soon.

“That depends. Are you going? You don’t seem too fond of your family.” He said.

“I’m only going out of love.” She said.

“Well in that case, I am too.” He said, jotting down the address to the ceremony on his calendar with a star on the day, his heart racing despite his cold exterior. He’d harbored feelings for her too, and Polly could see it, often questioning him when Y/N would leave for the night, but he always blew her off due to peaky business.

“Wait...you actually want to go to such a horrid thing...with me?” She asked.

“And pass up a date with my favorite secretary? Wouldn’t dream of it.” He said, a small smirk hinting at his lips which seemed almost out-of-place.

“Date? Are you sure this isn’t some small business deal? You aren’t just agreeing for money or to pity me?” She asked.

“No Y/N...I’m agreeing because I like you. Always have...just never had the time to tell you till now. Now go back to your work before Polly gets even more suspicious.” He said, admitting his feelings like it was nothing as she stood there dumbfounded.

“R-right.” She said sheepishly as she made her way back to her desk, a small smile on her face as Polly watched her. Knowing something had finally gone down between them.

A week into their newfound relationship, the day had finally come and Thomas escorted her inside the wedding chapel, her black dress complimenting his suit nicely. Her mother scoffing as she sat near her, wondering why the hell she’d wear a black dress to a wedding.

“You know black is for funerals...didn’t I teach you anything?” She asked quietly to where only Y/N could hear.

“I’m just marking the death of any peace that was left between this family. I know you both will start hounding me with questions in no time now that Margaret’s spoken for.” She said quietly, staring into her mother’s cold eyes. There’s always been a tension between them, but it seemed even a joyous occasion such as this couldn’t cut it.

“You alright love?” He asked, holding her hand in his as she stared blankly at the alter, waiting for the ceremony to start.

“It’s just my mother. She can’t put aside our differences for one fucking day.” She said quietly. Her mother leaning over to insert herself into the conversation.

“It’s nice meeting you Mr. Shelby. You’re more than welcome to sit with us at the reception.” Her mother said as she watched her daughter talk to the infamous blinder.

“Thank you Mrs. Y/L/N, we’d love to. Right Y/N?” He asked, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

“Love is one word for it I suppose.” She said, her jaw tensing as she saw her father approaching their seats.

“Glad to see you again Mr. Shelby, given this time it’s under better circumstances.” He said, shaking his hand firmly.

“Indeed it is Mr. Y/L/N.” He said, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket and sticking it between his lips.

Her father soon resigned himself from the tense situation by sitting near his wife, who was eyeing the dashing blinder who smoked where he pleased.

“Can you believe she’s dating him? They look like they’ve only just started.” She whispered to her husband.

“If I have to accept him for professional reasons, you can accept him for our daughter. Enough with the snide remarks. Our lives might as well be at stake if he were to hear us...his threat still stands.” He said, knowing that his youngest daughter and her mother always had a tense relationship since her birth. It wasn’t particularly successful, only saving them in the knick of time from complications. Little did he know he was more so the heart of the family, albeit a dysfunctional one.

“They’re talking about me I know it.” Y/N said, fidgeting with her hands as they waited for the ceremony to begin. Margaret taking more than her sweet time getting ready.

“Let them talk then. It can only hurt you if you let it.” He said.

“Now, she better be dressed to the nines because this is the longest I’ve ever waited for a wedding ceremony.” He added, seeing a smirk forming on her face.

“Oh just you wait.” She said jokingly. The music catching everyone’s attention as they all looked on, and surely enough she was dressed to the nines, the whole tailoring industry probably coming together to complete the lavish gown.

“What is this the royal fucking wedding?” She asked, hearing him chuckle quietly under his breath.

As Margaret neared the altar with her father handing her off with a kiss on the cheek, she took a look at her fiancé and then turned toward Y/N, giving her a small smirk that made her stomach churn.

“What was that for?” Thomas whispered quietly, noticing the interaction.

“She’s rubbing salt in an old wound. She’s as bad as my mother.” She said, flicking her off silently. Thomas quickly placed his hand over hers to stop her from escalating the already tense situation. Her mother giving her a scolding look that she ignored, her blood boiling with the fact she was flaunting her status in front of her.

It seemed like forever before the vows ended, the tired crowd clapping and dispersing after the couple ran happily out the door of the church and to the nearby reception. With Y/N and Thomas lagging behind, not wanting to enter the horrendous venue.

“We can leave the reception early if you’d like. Maybe go somewhere more entertaining.” He suggested as they watched the couple parade around the room. Her sister quickly bringing her husband over to where they were standing.

“Y/N, love I’m happy you made it! We were scared you weren’t going to show.” She said giving her younger sister a careful hug as not to disturb her dress.

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re my sister...I can’t exactly avoid you forever.” She said a small smile on her lips.

“You never told me you snagged such a......man. Where did you two meet?” She asked, shaking Thomas’ hand as her husband did the same. Margaret wary of the cold stare he gave her and Matthew.

“At work.” Y/N said shortly, not appreciating her attitude.

“Look at that, my baby sister finally has a job. What is it? A teacher? a factory worker? a nurse perhaps?” Margaret asked.

“A secretary.” Y/N said, staring the bride down the best she could hoping her gaze could silence her before she made a show of it all.

“A secretary? Hmm. Well that’s good I guess. Just be careful though, those secretaries have to sleep their way to the top you know.” She said. Y/N’s face burning as she turned away from Thomas, wanting to run out and never look back.

Thomas cleared his throat and put his hand on the small of her back as she tensed her jaw, reluctantly turning back to her snake of a sister.

“How would you know? Is that how you got to your position?” She snapped back, the anger rising in her chest. She wished she could have captured her sisters expression in a photograph, her words finally cutting into her like she wanted.

“I assure you she isn’t doing anything of the sort. In fact, she’s an integral part of the company already. But if I were you I wouldn’t say too much else.” Thomas said, a dark tone to his voice as he kept a level head between the sibling rivalry that was happening by the second.

“Oh and who are you to threaten me? What’s this company you speak of? My parents never mentioned it.” She said, her husband whispering in her ear that they had to go. The poor man hated the situation just as much as Y/N.

“That was probably to protect you Margaret. You see...you’ve always been a bit reckless with new information. So I doubt you knew what father got himself into.” Y/N said.

“What are you talking about?” She asked, grabbing a glass of expensive champagne as the server walked by.

“He got in my way...and no one gets in Thomas Shelby’s way. It cost me some of my men. So, like I said, if I were you...I wouldn’t say much else.” He threatened again, her fiancé swallowing hard as he led his flustered wife away to mingle with the other guests.

“Why can’t you both get along?” Her father asked, walking over to the pair.

“I’ve done my part with both her and mum. But...I’m not staying where I’m not valued. I love you all but, we have to go. Send Margaret and Matthew our....warmest regards, yeah?” She asked taking Thomas’ hand and leading him out the door. Her father stood there with a tense look on his face, knowing his family had gotten themselves on bad terms with the Shelby’s once again.

With frantic footsteps she walked to the car, tears flooding down her face as she got in herself, not bothering to wait for him to open the door.

“You didn’t have to stick up for me, but thank you.” She said wiping her tears away as he started the car.

“Yeah.” He said, lighting a cigarette before taking off. He wasn’t much for accepting thanks, at least since the war.

“Are they like that all time?” He asked after a long pause.

“Mhmm. Now you see why I don’t see them unless I have to. They just remind me of everything I’m not.” She said, looking out the window at the evening sky.

“That I do. I’ll be sending them something later, don’t worry.” He said.

“What do you mean?” She asked, her stomach dropping as she pictured him killing her family.

“You’re not going to kill them are you?” She asked.

“No...they’re not worth my time. At least not now anyway. And besides...I wouldn’t want to hurt you more than they already have.” He said, blowing a cloud of smoke from his lips.

“Tommy look, I know my father got in your way on a mission and I know he made you stay longer than you wanted to...but you can’t blame him for doing his job. He was trying to help. He may not be the best, although he’s far nicer than my mother and sister, so if anything, please spare him at least. That’s all I ask.” She said.

“Like I said, they’re not worth my time now, love. If they continue bashing you and my family for how we do business I’ll let you know first alright? But I can’t let them off without a warning, so I’ll send them a letter alright?” He said.

“Well it better be good then. That’s the last I want to hear of this feud. I can deliver it to them if it will help...to make a point at least.” She said.

“Take this then, it won’t be good.” He said giving her a handgun from his jacket.

“I’m not shooting my family Tommy!” She said loudly as they approached the Garrison.

“It’s not for them. It’s for you. They’re not the nicest people and I want you safe. Especially since you work for us now. If they hurt one of us they hurt all of us alright? I know that’s not what you want to hear but it’s how this business works. Now...let’s go have some fun aye.” He said, helping her out of the car and into the bar that was teeming with people from the shop.

“Oi! How’d the wedding go? You’re both home early.” Arthur asked, handing them both a glass of whiskey.

“Terrible. Tommy’s writing a letter tomorrow to put them on their toes.” She said.

“Did they say summin’ about ya?” He asked.

“Yes...and about the company.” Thomas added.

“I thought we told him last time that we’d blind him.” Arthur said, an angry look in his eyes.

“Aye we did. But that didn’t account for her mother and sister. They have a way with words don’t they love?” Thomas asked.

“Mhmm. I’m delivering it, maybe then they’ll take what they say more seriously next time.” She said.

“We can only hope.” Thomas said, snaking an arm around her waist as they spent the rest of the night at the Garrison before going to their respected homes, too worried about the mission to do anything else.

The next week, Thomas signed the end of the letter, his hand cramping from the amount of things he’d written. Wanting to make sure his threat came off clear as day.

“Here Tommy, put this in with it.” Y/N said, handing him a lone razor blade, making him raise an eyebrow.

“Just in case they want to make anymore remarks, they can do us a favor and blind themselves. Like you said, they’re not worth your time now.” She said with a small smirk.

He took a sip of his whiskey and pointed to her with a grin, ushering her to come over to him.

“I like how you think.” He said, pulling her close and kissing her lips ever so lightly. The feeling between them almost electric as they departed.

“I’ll go take care of this, you go on with your business.” She said, as he handed her the letter.

“You know how to shoot?” He asked.

“Mhmm. Been practicing with John.” She said with a smirk.

“Alright, love you.” He said, as he caught himself muttering those words out sooner than he wanted to. But the truth was he couldn’t stand to see her go, not without knowing she was safe.

She stood there for a moment, looking at him as a smile spread across her face.

“I love you too.” She said before walking out the door to drive to the dreaded house she grew up in. Hoping this letter would keep them at bay for once in her life. Knowing her only chance at freedom from her family’s binds were through the doors of the shop and in the arms of the man she loved.

Thomas Shelby Tag List:

@msbzowy, @nofckingfighting, @aranoburns, @sighonahurricane, @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes, @gaytommyshelby, @wowjeena, @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby, @inglourious-imagines, @thebloodyshelbys, @tsolomons, @blinder-secrets, @reveparade, @shelby-fanatic, @ta-ka-shi-ma, @psychkunox, @peakyxtommy, @captivatedbycillianmurphy,@dreamwastakenx, @lovemissyhoneybee @thomashelbyswhore, @xxbeckybeexx-blog

If you’d like to be added/removed, just send me an ask/message! :)

#peaky blinders #katiesanons #katiesrequests #katiesfics #katieswiplist #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x female!reader #thomas shelby x y/n

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dragon-kazansky · 3 years

Text

Til death do us part | Helmut Zemo

Bodyguard AU! 🕶

Gender neutral reader

Collage by @realremyd

Here's the part where I stir up trouble because it's me and you know this by now.

Warnings: Mentions of threats, death, and suicide. I'm sorry if that's triggering. It's just mentioned.

[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter]

Part 11

You hadn't returned to the Baron again last night, and he hadn't called for you either. You managed to avoid him for the rest of the day.

Today, however, was a new day, and you couldn't keep avoiding him. You put on your stoic face, kept your mind on the job, and made your way up to his office.

At breakfast you had been joined by Natasha and Clint down in the kitchen. It was clear bt the way Clint was looking at you that Natasha had brought him into the loop.

"Why did you tell him?"

"I didn't. He has eyes, too. He can see it just as clearly as anyone," she states.

Clint grins.

You glare at him.

Clint just shrugged and agreed with her. He was the only one to tell you anything alone these lines:

"I think you should open up to him. Sure, you didn't get off on the right foot, but I think he likes you. Really. Maybe give him a chance?"

You chose to ignore that statement and get on with your work. If no one else was going to take their job seriously, then you had to be extra serious for them.

His life was still in danger.

You knock on the door, taking a deep breath as you waited for his reaponce. It cane moments later.

"Enter."

If only his voice didn't send shivers down your spine everytime you heard it.

You enter his office, barely looking at him, and make your way over to where you normally stand. However, you had noticed the way his desk was organised.

Much like yesterday, there was a tea set on a tray. It was a different set to yesterday's. These cups were a pale green and each one a a small pink rose painted on either side of the cup. The teapot had a dozen little roses around the top where the lid sat.

It was a pretty set. Once again, simple, but classy.

He poured two cups again.

"Please, join me," he spoke softly.

You did not want a repeat of yesterday. You remained standing.

Noticing that you hadn't made a move, he gazes up at you with gentle brown eyes. His lips are pulled into a soft smile.

You knew you shouldn't have looked at him, but now it was too late. Those dark eyes are luring you in, and don't forget that smile.

Why did you suddenly want to kiss him?

You swallow thickly, keeping eye contact with him as he continues to look at you with a smile.

"Please."

The way he speaks is so soft. He very clearly wanted you to join him. You hesitate.

"I'm on duty, sir."

"I want you to join me."

You look at the empty seat across from him. The tea would get cold if you didn't join him. Right, yeah, that's why you're going to sit down with him, you didn't want the tea to get cold.

You move over to the chair and take a seat, not looking at the way he was smiling at you now.

A plate of cupcakes sits between you. He takes one.

You look at the sight. Seeing the Baron with his dainty tea set, a cupcake, and a bright expression on his face, he looked so happy and relaxed.

You rather liked this side to the Baron.

You pick up the cup and sip from it. Another delicious tea from his collection. You won't mention how you knew he had a collection of different flavoured tea in a box downstairs in the kitchen.

You smiled at the thought of it though.

It made you feel like you had discovered something about him. A little thing he likes that he doesn't share with anyone else.

Except you, of course.

"How many tea sets do you have?" You ask, now forgetting all about that professional head you had tried to put on earlier. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to humour him.

He smiles widely at you.

"I have six as it stands. I do like to look at others, but I only get the ones that really catch my eye."

You have no idea what was going on with Helmut. The man was beyond pleased. You had initiated a conversation with him. You wanted to talk to him. He couldn't believe it. Perhaps he hadn't offended you as much as he thought after all.

Now, he just had to keep you talking.

"Six? Goodness. Do you use them all?"

"Yes. I switch between them," he grins.

"I'd like to see the others."

"All in due time."

You smile softly.

His heart could literally beat out of his chest right now. He made you smile, and you weren't even trying to hide it.

Feeling a little more willing to be less... stuck up, you reach out and grab one of the cakes.

This pleases him further.

You both eat the cakes and drink the tea. You let yourself smile openly around him.

You were accept he wanted to spend time with you. You wondered if he would indulge you in some information.

"May I ask you something?"

He looks at you with a big gentle eyes. His lips curl in the smallest of smiles.

"Of course."

You put down your nearly empty tea cup and sit up straighter.

"Will you tell me about the group who are after you?"

His smile fades. He hadn't expected that question. To be honest he wanted to keep them as far from mind as possible, but he supposed he did owe you an explanation after everything you had been through.

"They call themselves The Agent Association. John Walker founded it when I retired from the army. He is part of the reason Sokovia has been suffering, when he brought his little gang here to try and recruit me."

"Recruit you? What did he want you for?"

"I have many skills under my belt. I believe he wanted to use me."

"And you turned him down?"

"Yes. I had just left the military. I was ready to return home and settle down. He didn't like that," Helmut's voice became sad. Something struck you and you realised that this went so much deeper than just that.

"What happened? What did he do?"

Helmut looks at you. During the next few moments of silence he was debating on if he should share everything with you. He trusted you, it more came down to if he could bring himself to tell you what happened.

"Baron?"

He wants to tell you. He wants to share what happened to him with you. The reason he had been so cold before you came along.

"There was a woman. She was beautiful. I fell in love rather quickly with her, and she promised to wait for me. He promised I would marry her upon my return and we would live here together. I didn't know she knew Walker. As it turned out, he was in love with her too."

You were suddenly felt with dread.

"Helmut?"

That was it. That was the first time you had used his name. He stared at you, caught off-guard by the way it sounded from your lips.

You hadn't seemed to notice what you had done. Clearly you had been so comfortable with him, you had just let it slip.

He gathers himself.

"Heike. That was her name. She wasn't here when I got home. Three days and no word. I had feared she had chosen him over me, but it was a week later when I heard what had happened."

You felt uncomfortable.

"Heike had passed away. Her family hadn't known I was home, so that's why I hadn't heard anything yet. I was devastated. Two days of being locked away here in mourning with a broken heart, Walker showed up. He broke down my door, he marched up to my room, and then he proceeded to attempt to kill me."

You stare wide eyed, lips parted, mind blank.

"Walker thought I was fine reason she was dead. That she couldn't take choosing and ended her life. I wanted him to kill me. I wanted to be with her in death. He didn't do it. He dropped me and left. I didn't hear from him in years, but one day he shows up with his agents. He wanted to prove to me he had power and influence. Sokovia began to decline and it was because of him."

Helmut had taken notice of how you were leaning forward, listening intensely.

"He's trying to kill you because he thinks Heike killed herself over you?" You ask, whispering softly.

He nods.

"That's awful."

You get up and walk to his side. You place a hand on his shoulder and let it rest there.

"It wasn't your fault."

He turns his head to where he sees your hand. He looks at it. Your touch feels warm, even through his blazer.

"Wasn't it?"

"Of course it wasn't... or are you saying it was?" You ask, softly.

He shakes his head.

"I don't know. What if she had?"

"Do you want my honest opinion?" You ask, looking at him seriously.

"Please."

You kneel down beside him, hand still settled on his shoulder. You meet his eyes with your own.

"If she had ended her own life, I don't think it was over you. By the sounds of it, she was in love with you. She promised to wait."

"Then what do you think happened?"

"Walker. He's trying to kill you, very nearly had twice at this point. Maybe this goes deeper than you think. You're taking it from his word and not your own investigation. Considering all that happened, he isn't a wise form of information."

Helmut places a hand over yours and looks you in the eye. He swallows, letting your words sink in. Your kindness toward him is enough to spur enough confidence in him.

He brings your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckle gently.

He doesn't miss the shocked expression on your face. Startled, you take your hand back and stand up, but you don't walk away.

Already, he misses your touch.

He's not sorry for what he did, even if your reaction hurt him a little.

"Walker will not bring you harm. As your bodyguard I vow to protect you and see this through. I will not stop until Walker is stopped too."

Helmut looks at you with so much longing. His heart feels full. He smiles.

And I vow to protect you. I will not let him hurt you too. Walker will not hurt the people I love again.

He just can't bring himself to say it out loud.

Zemo no longer cares if it's your duty to protect him. He will not let you get hurt by the hands of Walker again.

When the time comes, the Baron will rest and the Colonol will come out to play.

I promise.

@thesuitkovian @justfangirlthingies @belle82devart @zemosimp420 @anteroom-of-death @silverlambcaptain @that-stupid-head-tilt-thing @lieutenantn @daniielbruhl @awesomesauce-abbie @latenightartist-author @lazygurl05 @rumblelibrary @nonamec0s @shura-gorl @ginger-abreu @caligrl1992 @livvyshmiv @luciadiosa @vverliebt @tatooineisdry @charistory @somethingthatsaysbubbles @apparrio @alex-the-nb @thewrongkhristol @hb8301 @the-chaotic-cow @mssennimatilda @uncomfortablebagel @fictionlandslanddreams

#marvel #zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo #au #baron helmut zemo #zemo #bodyguard au

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bibuddie · 2 years

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time to talk day | 2022

so i was inspired to make this post by the wonderful @stagefoureddiediaz who spoke so openly and candidly about her experiences with mental illness and the stigma around it. as kym said, today is known as time to talk day in the uk, and it's all about opening the door for conversation around mental health, mental illness and wellbeing in general. i feel like i'm generally pretty open, but there is a lot i haven't shared, that i feel ready to. so, allow me to take you on a journey.

this is going to be incredibly long, but it'll be cathartic for me and i hope you get something out of it too.

tw for parental death, bullying, anxiety, alcohol misuse, depression, panic attacks, sexual harrasment, suicidal ideation and thoughts. if any of this will make this post too hard to read, i completely understand and i love you anyways.

so, my journey with mental health starts around the age of eight. i never really fit into any one particular crowd at school - i wasn't good at sports, i wasn't interested in causing trouble or playing pranks. i just wanted to be left alone in the corner of the school yard with my books. i used to sit and read encyclopedias for fun, and would often blurt random facts out in conversation. i was such a bright kid, interested in everything and anything around me. but unfortunately, that made me different - it made me stick out and kids took advantage of that.

i'd get called weird and annoying and sometimes just plain left out of games when i was younger. and it stung at first, and had me wondering at the age of eight if there was something wrong with me, but over time, i grew a thicker skin and it didn't really bother me. things really escalated when i was ten.

there was this group of maybe five or six boys in my class who were all in the popular crowd and really really took issue with me. at this time, i was attending a youth group at the church associated with my school and the main perpetrator's mum was one of the volunteers. she was a lovely woman and always made sure i had everything i needed. however, the son didn't like me very much at all. it all came to a head one day when he cornered me on the school ground and told me that if i didn't start wearing a bra, he would get me banned from youth group. we were both ten and my boobs literally hadn't started growing yet.

eventually, one day i refused to go to school. wouldn't say why, just refused. my dad asked me why, because as i said earlier, i loved learning and i was fucking excellent at school - i was probably the top of my year at that time. and i just broke down and told him everything. he went straight to the school and told them, and things got resolved, but that kind of stuff sticks with you.

then, in january 2011, my dad took seriously ill with absolutely no warning. he had an undiagnosed aneurysm in his brain that ruptured, causing a subarachnoid brain haemorrhage. he couldn't move, couldn't eat, couldn't talk. it was absolutely devastating because my dad was my absolute best friend in the world. a week after he got admitted into hospital, he had a cardiac arrest and passed away. i was 11 at the time and it absolutely destroyed me.

i developed severe attachment issues with my mum, needing to know where she was going at all times and what she was doing and when she would be back. if she was even five minutes late home from work, i'd start spiralling thinking she was dead and i would have what i now know to be very intense panic attacks. i slept with her in her bed for 18 months because i was too scared to sleep alone due to nightmares i'd have and fear of something happening to her in the night without me being there.

eventually, my mum took me to the GP and, after a lot of very probing, intense questions i was diagnosed with anxiety and depression at the age of twelve. i remember not really knowing what those words meant, but just not wanting to feel bad anymore. i got referred to CAMHS (child and adolescent mental health services) and very slowly, things started to get a bit better - i had a support worker who came to my house twice a week for six weeks, and i saw a psychologist for six months and things began to improve bit by bit. i made friends and i'd go on outings and i felt like a human for the first time in a long while.

i ended up being put on antidepressants for the first time when i was sixteen. the thing with depression is it can be a one off occurrence during your life, or it can be recurring. both experiences are completely valid. for me, through a combination of factors, my depression and anxiety seems like it's going to be with me for the rest of my life, and i've slowly managed to come to terms with that. when i was sixteen, exam stress caused a particularly nasty bout of depression to rear its head, and my doctor decided to put me on citalopram (also known as celexa).

things were relatively stable until just before my nineteenth birthday. i'd started my dream degree, moved to my favourite city, made an amazing group of friends who i felt like i could be completely myself with. things were slotting into place in ways they never had, and then my mum got diagnosed with breast cancer. i packed up all my stuff in four hours and moved back home to be with her and support her through her treatment. the months my mum had chemo were some of the worst months of my life, watching her get constant infections and be in pain and barely be able to get off the sofa and knowing there was literally nothing i could do about it.

she got the all clear in june 2019, after two surgeries and seven cycles of chemotherapy. i treated her and i to a long weekend away together in november 2019, and i will always cherish the time we spent together on that holiday. we drank and laughed and joked together and i thought, man, life’s finally looking up for us. we’re finally going to get to be happy.

my mum passed away on 28th february 2020, when i was 20 years old. she was 50. she had several large blood clots on her lungs, and eventually they stopped her heart. the twisted thing is, i was her next of kin, meaning that the decision to withdraw care ultimately fell onto my shoulders. that’s still something i struggle to come to terms with today, and i probably will always struggle with.

my mum’s death came right before the coronavirus pandemic intensified in the uk. her funeral was the last one held in our local church. i don’t remember a lot of the month after her death, just odd little bursts here and there. after she died, we went into lockdown and so the time where my family would’ve normally rallied around me and my brother to support us, they couldn’t. my only escape was work, and so 24 days after my mum passed away, i went back to work. looking back now, it was way too soon and i was mentally in no fit state to be there but at the time, it was the right decision for me.

after my mum died, i was hit a hell of a lot harder than when my dad died, which i didn’t really think was possible. i think because of a combination of factors, maybe including the fact that i had a better understanding of what was happening. but i spiralled hard. i drank a lot, and i mean a lot. i was drinking pretty much every night until i was drunk because it was easier being drunk than it was feeling everything i was going through. many times, both drunk and sober i ended up sitting with a box of painkillers in my hands and just wondering if maybe things would be easier if i just…never had to feel anything again. if i never had to feel the crushing burden of grief that i’d be carrying with me for the rest of my life. i never did anything but i’d be lying if i said there weren’t times i came close.

eventually, i had a breakdown. i remember the exact date, weirdly enough. june 10th 2020. i was working from home (doing my old call centre job) and my manager called me for a meeting because my performance that weekend had been especially bad. and i just lost my mind. i was sobbing hysterically on the call and i couldn’t breathe and i remember him trying to talk me out of a panic attack. i ended up taking almost three months off of work because i needed a lot of therapy very very badly. my dosage of my antidepressants got upped again too and after, i was doing better.

fast forward to february 2021, and i get hospitalised out of the blue. i had palpitations, which i’d never had before. i had a doctor try to tell me it was due to anxiety, but having been dealing with the beast that is my anxiety for years, i could tell him it wasn’t. i went to the hospital and instantly got put in the area for the sickest patients, which scared me a lot. i’d never even had an IV before this. they admitted me overnight for monitoring and testing, and take me to a ward. it was the ward my mum died on. even worse, the bed they admitted me into was the bed she had a cardiac arrest in. i didn’t sleep at all that night, visions of the night my mum died playing over and over in my head, as well as worrying about what was wrong with my heart.

i got discharged the next day and referred to a cardiologist. i had some further testing done in march 2021, and then didn’t speak to my cardiologist until july. he basically told me there was nothing wrong with me, and i asked him politely if that was the case, why i was still having symptoms. and he just said i don’t know, and said if it was still bothering me to contact my gp.

currently, i’m in a bit of a weird place. i’m not doing amazingly well, but i feel like i’ve managed to spot the warning signs of a depressive episode quite early on and as a result, i can put things in place before things get really bad. i still struggle a lot of the time, don’t get me wrong but i fair much better compared to how i used to.

if you’ve managed to get to the end of this, thank you. i appreciate you. remember that no problem is too small for you to reach out for help. you’re worthy of happiness. today might be the day you start up a conversation, or it might be the day you think about it. who knows?

#rebecca rambles #mental health #mental health awareness #time to talk #time to talk day #depression awareness #anxiety awareness

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