justrainandcoffee

[justrainandcoffee]

@peakyswritings although I already wrote Nina's dress I searched for designs and I found this one

😂😂😂. This is Rose if she were like the stylists that Katniss describes 🤭.

A literal sack of flour 😂.

I assure you, she did a better job, I swear 🤭❤️.

--

Also @evita-shelby @emotionalcadaver

#hunger games au #nina ferrante #rose coldwell

[justrainandcoffee]

I was sure I replied this, but I didn't. I'm sorry!!

Lawrence is out of his mind, but that's nothing new. In canon, he's a piece of shit and but an idiot at the same time. No the smartest fish in the sea... It'd be funny if it wasn't because his lack of braincells it causing a lot of damage.

At least he thinks Rose is the same as he so he doesn't interfere, but... 😬. He'll pay for his crimes I'm assuring this 😌. Same as Alfie's abuser. Rose is planning the revenge.

Poor girl, Snow played with her and her mind and morals and he succeeded. She's not like them, but she can't help but have those thoughts either 😭😭.

When I thought about the auction that's what I wanted to create... a disgusting world where they can't see them as people (as kids!!) But as a trophy. And they all agreed to take part of it 😒.

The Solomons are here 🤧🤧. They deserved, even if it's not legal! Who cares!! Their love it's true ❤️.

thanks for reading, Reb!!

Against all odds (Alfie Solomons x fem!oc) Part 5

Crossover Peaky Blinders - Hunger Games

Masterlist. Parts: One - Two - Three - Four

Summary: Seven months before the 65th games, Rose discovers the other side of the Games. A dark, corrupt and disgusting world. And yet, wherever she likes it or not, she's part of it because Snow wanted that. Because he's still in charge. || In his house back in district 9, Alfie thinks about the past and future. || Five years pass. Next stop the 71th Games, but before that something happens between him and her.

Warnings: Mentions of pedophilia, rape, sexual trafficking. A corrupted upper class. Snow is dick, but a very smart and manipulative one.

Words: 3.4k || Alfie x Rose Masterlist

The Capitol.

Rose looked at herself in the mirror. The beautiful green dress she was wearing was definitely a good choice for her first attendance at Snow's mansion. It was winter now, so she completed her attire with an expensive coat.

Last victor, the girl from district 2, was about to start her tour across Panem and in the Capitol the celebrations were about to start as well.

"You shouldn't go," Lawrence said entering the bedroom.

"I will. He's expecting me. Do you want to upset our president? Because I don't."

"No, of course not."

"Then move on."

"Rosebeth, I… I need to tell you something about those gatherings. There I -…"

"I know, Lawrence. You pay for having sex with victors. We haven't had sex in years, I assumed you were calming your urges somewhere else. Snow confirmed it to me."

"You're not upset." Lawrence seemed surprised.

"No. I feel nauseous looking at you. They're kids."

"They're gods and goddesses. They bet the death and they transformed themselves. They're not longer humans, Rosebeth, they're spiritual beings. And I'm not having sex with them, I'm giving them my soul."

"Through your cock?"

"It's a divine connection."

Rose wanted to puke. Her husband was always an idiot but hearing him now, it seemed he joined a cult that was making them believe those ridiculous ideas.

"I understand," she said covering herself with her coat "I'm going to do the same."

"Are you going to join us?"

God. The idea of her doing the same as him, made her feel sick, but looking at the situation from other perspective, she was doing exactly the same as him: she was paying for the company of a victor. Even if that victor was the love of her life. Rose didn't want to think about it, she didn't want to be part of it… but for Alfie, she was ready to do anything.

"Yes."

"Oh, Rosebeth! I never told you because I thought you'll be disgusted. But if you're one of us now…"

Rose understood that same moment that Lawrence Evert was a rich powerful man living in a parallel reality. He truly believed he wasn't raping minors, but giving them his soul. And that was dangerous. How many of them believed the same? Who was the one who started this cult? Because that was a cult. They grew up believing that was a normal behaviour and even if they knew it was wrong they were willing to keep doing the same.

"Yeah… I guess, so," it was the only thing she said.

She couldn't wait to tell Alfie about this new revelation.

"You can use as many money as you want, Rosebeth. For the victors we have to do anything."

She nodded. The whole situation, even for the persona she created, it was too much.

.

Men and women from the upper class were there. Rose knew some of them but others were the first time she saw them. They were talking and giggling, the canapes over the table were disappearing and new ones were arriving. The little glasses containing the beverage that provoked vomiting were all over the place, too. In a month, several of them will be there again for the arrival of the girl of district 2, this time as a victor. And today Rose was going to witness those who were ready to spend a night with her.

"You're doing this for you and Alfie," she repeated to herself once and once again.

Rose was staring out through one of the windows. The green gardens that Snow had were beautiful and the infinite white roses were illuminated by the moon. It was a beautiful garden in the domains of an awful person.

"You're new," an old woman that Rose didn't know, approached her. She was at least 65 years old, maybe more. Her makeup was extravagant and clearly she had several aesthetic surgeries.

"I am."

"Don't be nervous, Darling. We don't judge here. Did you see the catalogue? You can see their prices."

"No? I didn't know there was a catalogue" Rose said.

The old woman offered her something similar to a magazine with the Capitol's logo in the front page. When Rose opened it she saw in the first page the face of the last winner.

"The older they are, the cheaper they're, too" the woman said as Rose was examining the rest of the pictures "people here desire the youngest ones. Not all of them are lucky and not all the youngest are desirable."

Rose forced herself to smile "I prefer those who are a bit older than 18," she said.

"I used to have the same thoughts, sweetheart. But one day I decided to try something new and I never regret it! It was long time ago. But never until recent times, I could be with the lastest victor."

"That probably was… memorable."

"It really was!" The woman said and it sounded like she was proud if herself "young men can be really passionate."

'Kids' wanted to correct Rose, but she kept staring at the woman.

"…it was 11 years ago. The one who won the 53th edition: Alfie. Do you know him?"

Rose's heart stopped beating in that moment. Her hands held the catalogue with such strength that wrinkled one page but the woman didn't notice her reaction.

So that woman was his rapist. That fucker old woman who was talking to her like a friend. She didn't know the trauma she caused in Alfie, she didn't know about his nightmares, his distrust on people. One night Alfie confessed to her that it was her, Rose, the one who helped him to cope with his fears. Behind the mask of rude man, was a broken person. And that old woman there caused several damage on him.

"He's still young," the woman continued "he's not even 30 yet. But I'm not into it anymore. Yet , I love to come here and see my friends. And it's good to see new blood like yours following our steps."

Rose didn't answered. She excused herself and ran towards the bathroom. She closed the door behind her and finally all her sickness got out of her body. Kneeling in front of the toilet she was still trying to catch her breath. She was crying. Rose didn't know who were the kids that Lawrence touched, she didn't want to know but the revelation this woman gave to her, it was too much.

She was the one who hurt the man she loved. Her Alfie. Rose wanted to kill her for him. For what Alfie suffered. But his voice was in her head.

"Let it go, luv."

Rose got out, fixed her dress and hair and walked where the rest were.

They were already reunited at the main table waiting for the dinner. The seat in the head of the table was empty, waiting for the host. Snow wasn't there and probably it was the reason of why they weren't eating yet. Rose sat down next to her husband who was talking and laughing with a man around his age.

Snow appeared not long after she did and all of them stood up and clapped. Snow was smiling and he gave a brief speech for them. All the guests paid attention to him.

"May the odds be ever in your favour," he finished.

"May the odds be ever in your favour!" the rest, including Rose, replied. They raised their glasses and cheered.

The dinner was delicious. Lamb and several salads were served, along with fresh bread. Even when she wasn't hungry, she ate anyway.

Rose also could swear that Snow looked at her more than once, but she pretended to talk with another woman.

It was late at night when the dinner was over, including the desserts. Except Snow who disappeared, they all walked into a different room and Rose saw it was like a little theatre. A young woman gave her something similar to a remote control with a number on it. Hers was the 44. Rose imagined it was for a register.

The anthem of Panem was sounding in the background and it was a flag on the stage, next to a tall man.

Darius Armstrong was a man in his forties. He had a long blond braided hair and was wearing a white suit. Darius Armstrong was the auctioneer, he already had the hammer in his hand and was waiting the moment to start his job.

This time, Rose avoided her husband and most of all, she avoided Alfie's rapist. Part of her mind was still telling her that she was doing the same as the old woman even when it wasn't true. She choose a distant seat and waited.

"Welcome!!" Exclaimed Darius capturing the attention of those who were still talking. "A new year together. I'm full of happiness, aren't you? Once again our beloved president gave us a marvellous dinner and also offered us this place where we can see our incredible victors once again. And if we're lucky, we can join them in their greatness."

Except Rose, all of them cheered excitingly and started to clap.

"Do you want to start?" he asked and once again, the public shouted enthusiastically.

A 3D projection appeared on the stage. It was so realistic that for a moment Rose believed it was a real victor. It showed an old man from district 1, winner of the 9th Hunger games. His price started on 20 dollars. Of course no one wanted him.

Rose understood that it was their obligation to show all of the victors including those who weren't desirable. It was an actual auction… but with human beings.

"Renata Farrell!" exclaimed Darius several minutes later "our victor from district 8, 40th Hunger Games. Her initial price is ten thousand dollars."

The price difference between this woman and the poor old man was abysmal and they weren't even close to the newers victors. Fortunately for Renata, no one paid for her either.

From where she was sitting, she could see her husband talking with other two men. One of them said something that caused some smiles between them.

Alfie's turn was closer than ever before. By the time Darius announced the man who won the 50th games, her heart was beating that fast that she felt she was about to have a stroke. Then it was the turn from the women winning the 51th and 52th. A man offered fifty thousand dollars for the last one.

"The night had officially started!" Darius commented smiling after the first offer of the night "now we have our 53th victor, Alfred Solomons from District 9. His initial price is sixty thousand dollars."

There he was in front of her. Again, the projection was so real that Rose believed she could cross the hallway and could hug him. His grumpy expression, his beard. It was him but at the same time, he wasn't. Rose pressed the button.

"A new offer!!" Darius pointed with his hammer towards Rose "how much are you offering?"

"Seventy thousand."

"Seventy for him! Who offers eighty? Eighty thousand anyone? No? Seventy thousand… 1. 2. 3. "Alfred Solomons, sold to our highest bidder. You can gave us the money once this auction is over," Darius commented.

Sold. He said sold. Like a piece of furniture, like an object. Rose avoided to look at anyone. Everything it felt like she was doing something illegal.

Rose never talked to him, but the next one after Alfie was Thomas Shelby. Sixty-five thousand dollars was his initial price. And people seemed to be willing to pay for him, despite he wasn't one of the lastest winners anymore. The highest bidder paid a hundred thousand dollars for him. It was one of Evert's friends. Rose didn't want to think what kind of perverse mind he had. She couldn't help but feel sorry for the young man.

.

Back in district 9 Alfie Solomons was contemplating the night. It was cold and it was clear that winter was almost there.

He used to enjoy the winter. When he was a boy he used to play with other kids in the snow until his nose was red. His childhood wasn't that memorable but being an only child it helped to keep the things easy for his mother. He was feed every night and every night too she tucked him in bed. When he was 12, his name was only once in the bowl, he hadn't need to ask for any tessarae. Same as he was 13 and 14. But that was the last year of peace. His mother got sick so she couldn't work anymore. Alfie spent his days studying but also working in the wheat fields but it wasn't enough so he started to ask for food and also medicine. The boy who only had three papers in the bowl suddenly had 30. And it was 55 the next one. And it was over 80 when he was 17 and finally was reaped.

That was also the last year he enjoyed the winter. The Arena, the frozen forest, caused such trauma on him that he couldn't bear it anymore. The snow was synonymous with dead. Instead of the pristine white surface, he always saw snow covered in blood. And it was usually the blood of his victims. Seven deaths and one was so severely wounded by him that it could be eight but the Gamemakers blamed that death to the hypothermia. Alfie knew it wasn't the weather. But, officially were seven.

And eleven years later that didn't change. Alfie dreamed of a different place, maybe next to the sea. But that was an impossible dream. He was used to district 9, it was his home but… Alfie sighed and approached his chimney. He was lucky not many people had one and not many people could afford to buy logs for the fire.

Or maybe keep living in district 9, he thought drinking tea, but with Rose.

Over the table was the ridiculous toy she gave him months ago. Wheaty. Its goggly eyes seemed to be looking at him its blue hair reminding him to the blue dresses he saw her wearing in different occasions.

In a couple of weeks they're going to be reunited again. Not the best circumstances. She was paying for him after all, but it was a legal way to see each other more often.

And he couldn't complain about that.

Maybe her company could make the winter more bearable.

.

The girl from district 2, the lastest winner, was beautiful. Her dark brown hair falling over her shoulders and her blue eyes seemed to bright with mischievous.

The same girl who won the games by killing 3 other kids, including the one from her own district.

The last victor of the night. Her initial price was 250 thousand dollars. But they paid for her 800 thousand. Divided in four men. One of them was Lawrence Evert.

"They're Gods and Goddesses"

Rose remembered Lawrence's words and felt sick again. He was now 48 years old, the girl was 17. And Rose couldn't do anything to help her. Same she couldn't do anything to help Tommy Shelby or the victor from the previous year, or any other apart from Alfie. It was that impossibility of helping them from being raped that was destroying her mind. She and Alfie were about to be happy together, to enjoy the mutual company and the love they had for each other. But for the rest of the victors that was the beginning of a new nightmare.

No one deserved that. No one deserved to be used by other people.

The stage was empty now. Someone turned the lights on and she could see the rest of them. They were smiling, patting each other shoulders. Of course they were. The upper class were celebrating a new year as the real winners of the Hunger Games.

Lawrence, his friends, the old woman who paid for Alfie when he was a kid, the one who bought Tommy's freedom… those were the real winners of the games. Not the victors. And how Rose could feel different from them when she was doing the same?

Far away in district 8 once existed a girl who believed that the games were a fucked up form of entertainment. Now existed a woman who believed the same but realising that even when Snow was the head of Panem, the rest of them every single one present there, were the engine who helped the killing machine keep going.

Including her.

Her seventy thousand dollars probably were going to help to install a trap who could help to kill a tribute or two.

While she was going to be making love with Alfie, her money was going to be part of new crime disguise as show. A mother was going to grieve her child because of Rose.

And the saddest part of it was that if someone asked her if she wanted to pay another seventy thousand dollars to enjoy Alfie's company twice a month the answer was going to be affirmative.

Because it happened. When she approached a desk and officially paid for Alfie, the man behind the desk, offered her the option to spend even more time with him. And she accepted.

A kiss, a hug, his comfort… in exchange for a new murder next year.

Snow, not far away from there, looked at her. Of course he could see beyond the obvious. He wasn't stupid. That young woman never liked him as she tried to pretend. She wasn't like her brainless husband. There was a rebellious spark in her eyes. And Snow hated rebels.

But he didn't want to kill her like he did with Lucretia Gold, wife of Aberama Gold, years ago. Snow wanted to destroy her soul and rebel spirit. The best way he found was offering her the only thing that Mrs. Evert couldn't reject: true love. Alfred Solomons was the only valuable thing she had and Coriolanus Snow knew a thing or two about true love. And again, he was right.

The rebel spirit of Mrs. Evert corrupted by his own system. Snow knew that paying for Solomons and seeing what her husband and the rest of them were doing with the victors was too much for someone like her. And breaking people made him happy.

Snow won once again.

A month later, a peacekeeper knocked on a distant house. Rose had rented a house in a small private village of the Capitol. Surrounded by gardens and trees. Colourful flowers genetically modified to survive the cruelest winter decorated its surroundings. The peacekeeper arrived with Alfie who was handcuffed, probably to prevent a escape.

"That's not necessary," she said to the man.

"It's the protocol, ma'am," the guard said, finally freeing Alfie. "I'll be back Monday morning."

"Okay," she said letting Alfie in and closing the door on the other man's nose.

Alone, both of them looked at each other for a few seconds before kissing.

Six months without seeing each other. Less than the previous years and yet the longing was the same.

While they were already in bed, naked and moaning, the gamemakers were designing the new arena. A salt desert this time, dry and deathly. Her money helped them to make a suffocating pit. In six months, when a new edition start, she was going to see the girl from district 6 and the boys from 12 and 11 die there.

All in name of love.

And the years that followed this one, little and nothing changed. Rose kept paying for him and Alfie was 'forced' to go to the Capitol every time. Every year that passed, his price decreased. New and younger victors were occupying his place. But not for Rose.

The games only showed them that keeping his kids alive was impossible. No one survived.

The only thing changed was that their love increased.

It happened after the 70th games. They were alone when Alfie did the question and she laughed not believing him. But Alfie wasn't joking. Ten years ago they've met for the first time. Both were 33 now.

"It's symbolic, private and not legal at all but I love you, sweetheart."

And she nodded. Symbolic or not, she belonged to Alfie in a way she never belonged to Lawrence.

For the rest of humanity, she was Mrs. Evert… for the two of them, she was Mrs. Solomons.

#alfie x rose #hunger games au

[justrainandcoffee]

First soup of the season, ready 🤧❤️.

#cold season my beloved

[justrainandcoffee]

Are you really friends with someone if you don't take an active role in the Apocalypse?? 😂🤭.

I want one of those. Plague, please.

#mutuals ❤️

[justrainandcoffee]

Yes to mama!Nelson!! I love that woman. I still don't know if she truly accepted her, but it's nice that at least she accepts his decision. And the relationship between them is adorable.

Jack is a sweetheart, stooop!! The way he cares about little Gina and his family (same way he cares about Eva) I don't like canon!Gina, but this one is just an innocent girl like the rest and I don't want to Jack suffer 😩. He's going to be devastated 💔😭😭.

The way that both of them enjoy their little time together 🤧. (I just realized that Alfie and Rose started their relationship at the same time, more or less, than Jack and Eva 🥺)

Omg!! Lucy is Tommy's fiancée and she's the red devil!! 👀👀👀👀. If I were the rapists I'd be praying for my soul 😬.

Thanks for sharing another chapter, July!!

They didn't know we were seeds

Chapter 10

Lucy Winters belongs to @emotionalcadaver

Cw: mentions of death, suicide

Taglist: @justrainandcoffee @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @call-sign-shark

Augustus Braun is the winner of game 67, he was made for Capitol Couture which was material to get people hyped for the movies.

Telling his mother everything feels like a great relief.

He doesn’t leave much detail out of how his relationship with Eva began. He had never told her about what the Capitol does to Victors, he had never told her about Snow’s visit and his attempt to kill Eva.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen, but it did, mom. I know she killed Laurie; I know the games haunt her just as they haunt me, but being with her has made it all bearable.” Because he never realized how alone he was until he woke up that Monday morning knowing he’d have to leave.

Their lives and world were hell, but every second he spends with her on her farm is by far the best moments of peace he’s had since his games 7 years ago.

“Neither of us had a choice in that arena. She didn’t want to kill Laurie any more than I wanted to kill all those kids, even Juno.” He’d been trained all his life for them and when the moment of truth comes, you realize it’s all bullshit. That they made you kill for so called glory and in the end, you were nothing but an object to entertain them.  “I know you can’t forgive her, and we both understand why you can’t, but it won’t change my feelings for her.

I love her.”

His mother sighs in acceptance and speaks. “Out of all the girls in the world, you had to go with that one, kid.”

He loves his mother, knows she’s a good woman and stronger than anyone gives her credit for, but she won’t move him to break things off with Eva no matter how dreadful things get.

“If it makes you feel better, I don’t think she’s forgiven herself for it. She actually tried to deny the games a victor, but the Gamemakers were ordered to revive her or risk punishment.” The young man admits knowing all his secrets are safe with her.

“A rebel as well, oh joy.” His mother’s sarcasm reminds him he never got around to asking Lyme for what she sought out Eva for. It wasn’t just for him; Shelby was still a criminal and had bought those lands for a reason.

He couldn’t risk a visit to Eva now that every district is crawling with peacekeepers, he’ll have to wait until they reunite on July 5th for the 67th Hunger Games. He’s counting the days to see her, even if it means having to see children go off to fight and die.

Strange how he’s no longer seeing the games as he used to. Whether this new outlook is good or not waits to be seen.

July 5th comes and the first words he says when he finds Eva after the Tribute Parade are: “I love you.”

Took him long enough if you ask him.

He doesn’t bring up his mother, not today at least.

While their tributes go down to train, they make use of his empty suite. Matty had joined her as a mentor and while he’d be schmoozing sponsors in case their tributes live long enough to need one, his floor was closer.

She’s set foot in some of these, not this one though. Enobaria was not very friendly, and Lyme usually went to her floor instead.

“Wish I could take you to my cabin instead of this place.” Jack admits when he waves the Avoxes away and one of them is bold enough to wink at them as they agree to keep their secret. They like him, he’s boisterous and strangely carefree, knows when to keep his mouth shut too.

“Me too, shame travel between districts is forbidden. Who knows President Snow can add that to his campaign promises this year.” The left earring from the set Wiress gifted her pings as it detects several devices trained on them. The rebels had many victors in its lists, it made sense that they would join up. Something worse than living the games was sending two children to die year after fucking year.

Jack catches on quickly that they can’t speak about it here.

Her balcony was safe, the rooftop as well. Haymitch wouldn’t mind, he’s too out if it to even know they’ve been there. Cashmere’s dressing room was the only safe place in the entire suite.

Eva wonders if 2 had a nook or cranny that’s empty of cameras or microphones. She’d need to find it first and show it to Jack. It was why she’d accepted his invitation to have breakfast here.

He gave her a tour of the place, it was finer than 10’s floor. Decorated with the colors and some aesthetics associated with their district, with all the portraits of their victors scattered about. Jack looks so young in his portrait, reminds her of the boy from 1 everyone’s betting on.

Augustus Braun would win, this year the children reaped were on the younger side, hungrier because of the extreme weather that ravaged the country this spring. Even 2 had a tornado this year.

But 1 and 2 don’t know suffering like the rest of them, they are allowed to store food for this, they have enough to rebuild and act as if nothing happened.

Jack had learned to scavenge from her, how to survive without someone sending you food because even in the arena their sponsors fed them. He’d taught her how to hunt, how to wield a knife for other than cooking.

They could make it if it came to war. Running was out of the question; they’d be dead from exposure or bullet wounds before they got anywhere.

But she’s not been able to bring up the secret rebel society she joined just so she could play house with him every other weekend.

The only place without any sort of device spying on them was the sauna this floor had. And she tells him so.

“My mom thinks you’re a rebel, I’m starting to think she might be right.” He says revealing his mother’s feelings about their relationship.

She expected as much, and she reminded Jack she doesn’t mind it.

“If it makes you feel better, I didn’t know I was being recruited until Lyme showed up at my house.” Eva had wanted to tell him, just never found the moment. Didn’t want to ruin their happiness like that. “There’s many of us in it, Shelby is one of them too. Its why he gave me the farm, to gain a foothold in my district.”

Jack won’t tell, he’s not like that.

“They could kill you, Evie. What happens when Shelby gets taken down like Luca? What happens when it fails?” He voices the same worries she’s had all this time.

“But what if it doesn’t? Don’t you want to live in a Panem where we can be together freely, where we won’t have to send children to die for something they didn’t do? I know the risks, Jack, believe me, I do.” She had allowed herself to hope when he began to come without fail and imagined a life together with him.

A life where they wouldn’t have to leave the farm fearing they’d be caught, a life where they’d have a family together and not worry their children will have to brave an arena. Where no one would face what they had, where no one starved to death or died for knowing they deserve better.

“I won’t say anything about this, but I have my family to think of, Evie! I can’t do that Gina or my mom. You don’t know what they do to people in 2.” There is true fear in his eyes, something that makes her feel as if she doesn’t know what the Capitol is capable of.

“I understand.”

They don’t speak to each other until the games are in full swing. He claims he’s busy training his tributes, but she knows better than to believe that. Part of her fears that he won’t ever come to the farmhouse again, especially as the games draw to an end and he refuses to even meet with her in private.

“He’ll come around, Miss. Smith. They all do.” It’s not Shelby who approaches her at her balcony.

“Have we met?” the dark-haired woman asks the red-haired woman.

Shelby had become a widower in the past year. Some assassination attempt meant for him that took out his insufferable wife ---apparently, she wasn’t liked amongst her peers either according to Clemens. Some thought he ordered the hit to make space for his new lady.

Not Lizzie Stark, she’d moved up the ladder and moved on from Shelby. Married a swell guy who didn’t mind her past and was expecting her first child.

This woman was his right hand, the one who killed Finnick’s rapist and pruned what needed pruning.

The Red Demon, Clemens had named her when they saw her the first night on his arm.

She was pretty, with red curls and green eyes. Too pale to belong to any District, but there was something about her that told the victors she and Tommy had more in common with them than Plutarch and Fulvia.

“Not officially, Lucy Winters, Mr. Shelby's fiancée.” There is no handshaking, there is however an offered cigarette.

“Eva.” Eva had tried to give up the habit but now that Jack isn’t here to keep her grounded, she needs one badly.

“You and your loverboy are on the outs because of it, aren’t you?” to others it would sound like Winters means her killing Laurie and his mom hating her for it.

Those in their secret society, know its because he is not a rebel…yet.

Everyone goes through that phase, Cecelia, who won her games the year before Jack’s at 16, assures her. Cecelia had only joined when she felt her first born move inside her and knew she couldn’t let her children be raised for slaughter. She is pregnant with her second now, not old enough to be reaped but who’s to say where they’ll be in 10 years.

Cecelia claims she knows it in her bones that her children won’t ever be reaped. That

Eva wished she had that certainty.

“He fears repercussions, has a family to think of.” Eva doesn’t lie about his reasons. It was the reason everyone did as they were told.

Victors weren’t invincible.

Prostitution, the mentoring, the inability to do anything meaningful were all to show how powerless they are. Haymitch had only used the arena to win, and he’d lost everyone he loved. Cashmere and Gloss had families too, Enobaria, Jack, Finnick, everyone had someone they didn’t want the Capitol to touch.

And yet Cecelia had been braver than most by having children. Not many victors did, especially after the 25th games. Even the careers feared birthing a child for the slaughterhouse.

“He’ll come round to it; they always do.” The red-haired woman assures her as if knew it. “Might be by the end of the games or in six years, but they always do.”

In 6 years, Gina Nelson will turn 12, the birthday everyone dreads. Nothing like knowing death is coming for your child to make you hate the Capitol.

Eva should know, her mother killed herself on her 12th birthday.

#jack x eva #hunger games au #they didn't know we were seeds

[justrainandcoffee]

Usually in the Congress, in any country.

Overpaid, useless people.

where are the jobs for useless people who can't handle anything at all

#😌

[justrainandcoffee]

The Breakfast Club was, is and always will be one of my favourite movies.

I just saw it again and ❤️❤️.

#bender was probably one of the first bad boys I loved and every time I saw him my mind keeps thinking the same #and Allison ❤️

[justrainandcoffee]

Story in three acts...

She knows that when I came back it means food 😂.

#my cat #cats #cat #caturday #catblr

[justrainandcoffee]

GARY OLDMAN as JACKSON LAMB - Slow Horses S01E05

#i love this character so much #← prev #me too 😂😂 #gary oldman is the fucking best #jackson lamb #slow horses

[justrainandcoffee]

Please, do not apologize!! We're all adults and we know how life works.

So, this issue with teachers is a universal thing apparently... Here, too. I have two friends who are teachers and the older ones make their life impossible. Really bitches, some of them. And I'm really sorry about the stress that it's provoking you 😩.

Hopefully for you, I guess, during summer you can rest a bit ❤️❤️.

Take all the time you need!! Don't worry about us, our fics are going anywhere!

I still need to read your last chapter ❤️. Tjis weekend, I hope.

Ari, hope you can rest soon. You deserve it ❤️

This is me blabbing away and trying to make sense of this crazy moment that's my life... Kind of like a PSA, without a real structure.

(Let's start with an apology, this was supposed to be short, just a couple of lines long, asking for some forgiveness for being so absent, and it turned into a small vent about my crazy life. Synthesis has never been one of my strongest features, apparently.)

Life has been crazy lately. April, May, and June are always hectic months for a teacher, and this year looks like it's going to be even worse. Right now, I'm juggling a full teaching post, a university research, a social life with a partner, a new kitten bringing me everyday dead lizards (she is a serial killer in disguise), and being selected as an internal commissioner for the high school diploma this year. And no, the last one is not an honor; it's more like a punishment for younger professors who don't have the authority to say no to older colleagues, plus a ton of paperwork and two more months of work while everyone else is on holiday. Yuppie for me. But joking aside, I'm not complaining about my job. I'm happy to teach, and compared to a lot of other jobs out there, I feel privileged to do what I'm doing. I love my kiddos, and even though most of the time they behave like dunderheads, teaching supports my creativity and gives me so many insights into my life.

But let's get to the point of all this. I am feeling slightly guilty for not being as active here as I should be and for not having enough mental energy and time to dedicate myself to writing more. To my lovely mutuals, I'm in awe of all that you're posting right now. I apologize for not replying and commenting on your amazing content as much as I would like. I just wanted to say, it's not because I'm disappearing; I'm just really busy, and I can't wait for the moment when I'll feel more chilled and can treat myself to all your new chapters, moodboards, and all the amazing content you're creating. I know I am being a small silent weight in your tag list, so thank you for still including me <3

About "Shadow of the Sea," I have a chapter ready and one WIP of the following one. I want to post the one that's ready sometime in the next week, but after that, I'm not sure when I'll be able to write the next one. So Jiyan and Cillian are taking a small break. I'm going to continue the story; this is not a goodbye. I have many ideas and plans for those two idiots; I'm just waiting for some writing energy and time in my schedule.

And yeah, I understand if you're thinking, "Are you aware that your blog and story are read by less than 10 people and no one really gives a damn?" Yes, I am aware, and this post is mostly for me, writing it down it helps me a lot, giving some sort of clarity. However, I've had the chance to meet amazing creators since I got busy on Tumblr again a couple of months ago. People who supported me and helped me, so this is more me trying to explain why my support isn't at its 100% right now and trying to excuse myself since I feel like a horrible mutual right now.

Ah, one last thing, maybe the only thing that will pop up on my blog are some "Slow Horses" GIFs. Thanks to Alex, @cillmequick, Jackson Lamb, and River Cartwright have become my new obsession, and creating GIFs is one of the few things that calm me after a busy hectic day and make me use some of that creative energy left.

I think that's it. Please still free to write me and contact me about my fic, blog, shenanigans; I will try to reply as soon as possible. Sending you all a big hug if you arrive till the end of this long long lengthy text xD

#mutuals ❤️

[justrainandcoffee]

They're an old married couple... In form of two people in their 30s 😂.

Sir Nicholas was murdered in front of everyone 🤭. Can you imagine? Say that in front of a feminist who actively fights for women's rights?? 😂 Nicholas had his minutes numbered as soon as he decided to talk with Alfie

When they work together... 😌.

Thanks for reading, love!!

How to train your wife (Alfie Solomons x fem!oc)

Alfie Solomons x Rose Coldwell (ofc) - Masterlist

Summary: “To train a wife, first, you need a wife. Second, once you get one, keep her. It's easier than it seems. Like a dog, you know? But if I were you, I'll choose the third step: Run, because she's going to destroy you.” Or... How Alfie and Rose deal with that particular man during that boring meeting.

Warnings: Big doses of sass 😌. What do you expect? It's Alfie and Rose 😂 || Topics like sex, are also mentioned.

Words: 2.1k

1923.

"It's not that bad, Al."

"It's not that bad, Al," he mimicked her. "You know how many times you said that and it ended up being really bad?"

"I know, Alfie. But I don't have powers, love. I can feel it this time it'd be different, besides, I need you with me. It's important."

"It's really important?"

"To me it is. Baron and Baroness McBride are very wealthy people with many equally wealthy influences. She has been going to my meetings with other suffragettes and unlike other people of her level, she does take an interest in the cause. Financial support from someone like her makes a big difference. Not just there, for my school and all of Pebblebrook as well."

That site being the place where she founded a school for girls and also a women's shelter 12 years ago, financial help from anyone interested was always welcome. It helped keep the place up and running as it had from day one.

Alfie sighed. If there was one thing he hated, it was those kinds of eternal and boring meetings, disguised as cordiality and good intentions. For him the best meetings were in his office at the distillery, in the morning and with a gun in his waistband. No more than five minutes. Ten, if your last name was Shelby.

But his Rosie was special. Alfie knew Rose needed the support of someone like the baroness. So he agreed to accompany her. The smile she had given him, was enough for him.

"Besides, we're going to have a nice bedroom. The baroness left everything ready for us to enjoy our stay there. It's only one night and we can sleep there until the next morning."

"A bedroom? In that fucking place! I didn't know that. Look at my wife, surrounding herself with rich people."

"Your wife is well-connected, love."

"My wife is a fucking treasure, luv," he replied.

.

The place where the McBrides lived was literally a palace and everything screamed luxury. From horses with gold trimmed saddles, carriages with gems to the walls, floors and staircase of the finest marble.

Pretending to belong to that social class was something Alfie loathed and he knew she did too. But, unlike him, Rose had learned to pretend to be one of those elegant refined Brits since she was 18. And that hadn't changed even when she only belonged to the aristocracy for less than four years.

It wasn't the first time Alfie had seen her smile at those who in any other context she would have spat on their feet. And this was the case. If she wanted collaboration for her school, she had to be one of them. Rose was a wolf in sheep's clothing. Because Alfie knew that at the slightest wrong comment, the facade she put up at every meeting would go to hell. All it took was a spark to start the fire. But so far that had never happened.

The dinner may have been delicious and Alfie had to admit that the old baroness was an intelligent, perceptive and kind woman, but he also reminded himself to tell Rose that the rest of the guests were just a bunch of snobs who could tell the salad fork from the meat fork, but couldn't tell who the prime minister was or why there were clouds when it rained.

Alfie had often tried not to let the past get to him, but it was hard when he thought that when he was a kid he would go down the streets of those fancy houses selling bread and almost all of them would slam the door in his face. Those same people who were now sitting next to him, eating oysters from the Mediterranean Sea.

Rose must have sensed that something was bothering him because without stopping talking to the woman next to her, she placed a hand on his and Alfie gently caressed it. That simple touch had cleared away the haze that had begun to affect his mind at that moment.

The rest of the dinner went rather better. But not better than when the McBride couple invited the rest to go to the lounge where they had arranged everything so that the guests could relax and converse more at ease, and more informally than during dinner as well.

From one of the armchairs, Alfie watched Rose talking to the baroness and really hoped that what she was looking for would work out for her, because she deserved it. He had left her alone at that moment because there he would do nothing but get in the way and secondly, because his back was beginning to bother him.

Alone and with no one to bother him, he felt at ease. But perhaps, life had told him he was already too comfortable so to Alfie's displeasure, a man sat down next to him ignoring the frown he had been wearing for the last half hour in the hope that he would be left alone.

"Good evening, Mr…"

"Solomons."

"Mr. Solomons!" The man held out his hand and Alfie, with no other choice, took it, "I am Sir Nicholas Reynolds. Old friend of the McBrides. You know them too? I haven't heard your name before."

Just as well.

"I don't know them, Sir Nicholas, but my wife does. She is a friend of the baroness and it is because of my wife that I am here."

"You are not interested in politics?"

"No. Not at all. I am a man of another kind of business."

"Which?" Sir Nicholas settled back in the armchair, looking at Alfie with interest. He looked at him as if he had never seen a man who could wipe his ass with politics, if he could have. Alfie scratched his beard.

"Bakery," he replied simply.

Out of the corner of her eye, Rose saw how her husband was visibly uncomfortable with the man sitting next to him. Excusing herself to the baroness for a moment, she took a canapé from the table there and carefully carried it over to where Alfie was.

"Are you all right, love? I brought you this."

"Thank you, sweetheart. I'm fine, yes." Alfie and she looked at each other, too many years together served as telepathy. The woman averted her eyes to the stranger and smiled as she extended her hand to him. "Rose Solomons, wife of Alfred. My pleasure."

Sir Nicholas, kissed her hand. Lovely woman to be next to someone as brutish looking as that Alfred Solomons.

"Pleasure is mine, Mrs. Solomons," Sir Nicholas smiled at her as well.

"I don't want to interrupt your man talk, but, Alfie, do you need anything else?"

"No. I'm fine. Thank you, Rosie."

"All right, anything at all, let me know."

Both men watched her walk away. Sir Nicholas seemed to be fascinated by her and Alfie was beginning to notice. It didn't bother him, quite the contrary when that happened he used to enjoy how she simply shoo them away. And this seemed to be one of those occasions. And it was, only Alfie had never heard what the man would say next.

"How did you train your wife?"

No. Alfie looked at him thinking he'd misheard. He couldn't have said that.

"Sorry?"

"I said how did you train your wife. To be at your service. If you want this or that or reaching for food when you didn't ask for it? I was married three times, Mr. Solomons, none of them I could train like that."

Alfie chuckled. He'd heard right at last. Oh, that was going to be fun.

"How did I train Rosie to wait on me? Easy. Bit by bit. First I got married, because as I always say, to train your wife you must first have one and I didn't have one. Rosie is wild by nature so sometimes she wants to rebel, but you don't let that happen. Like that dog that wants to run away but then doesn't know how to get back. Second, to keep a wife, you have to know what can go wrong if you make a mistake in training. Like giving vegetables to a cat, it will go away because it's a carnivore… and third, have fun. Like me now. Rose!" Alfie called to his wife and she came over again. Only this time he invited her to sit on his knee.

Oblivious to the man's question, she looked at her husband. There was something in Alfie's gaze. She had known that look since they were children. And it meant only one thing: trouble. But trouble the good kind, the kind she used to enjoy.

"What is it, love?"

"My friend Sir Nicholas is interested in our relationship. He wants to know how I went about training you to be at my beck and call."

Rose raised an eyebrow and looked at the gentleman who had blushed slightly. Training a woman? That was something she hadn't heard before and that was saying a lot considering she'd heard everything in her job. From that you had to lock all women in a kitchen or the bedroom to only have children to something much worse like how to kill them. But she had never heard anyone say that a woman should be trained by her husband. So that was why Alfie had called her? To finish his job? Rose wss ready.

"Oh," Rose said accepting the invitation to sit on Alfie's knee. "That's interesting."

"I didn't mean training," Sir Nicholas began to say feeling her gaze on him. "I meant…"

"Out of three marriages he had," Alfie interrupted, "no one could be trained like I trained you, love."

"Well, because you're special," Rose continued to look at the man, despite the fact that she was talking to her husband. "You haven't confessed your secret to him, have you?"

Alfie didn't answer and let her continue speaking. "The answer is easy, Sir Nicholas: sex. Are you comfortable with talking about sex, Sir Nicholas?"

"Ehm… yes."

"Yes or no, Sir Nicholas? Because if you want to train your future wife you should be able to talk about sex openly. About dicks and vaginas and sex positions and orgasms. Are you comfortable?"

"Not in front of a lady."

"Oh, but I'm not a lady. I was trained. Like a dog, sir Nicholas. My mind is empty like the void and I can only think about Alfie and his dick the same way a dog thinks about food when he hears the ring. That's all I have in my mind because I was conducted. Have you heard about Pavlov?" The man nodded "well, that's the answer."

Was Sir Nicholas was expecting that conversation when he put his eyes on Rose? Clearly not. But he should have known better.

"So," Rose continued ignoring him. Alfie hid his face on her shoulder to cover his smile, "we're in 1923, I married Alfie in 1911. That means 12 years. If Alfie and I we have sex five times a week that means 20 times per month. Each time I came at least twice. And that's only an average. I'm sure there's more."

"I should…"

"I didn't finished, sir Nicholas. Let a woman finish if you want to keep her happy and being your slave. So, twice each time. I'm not counting all the times I visit him at his workplace, if that desk could talk… nor the times we had sex when we were teens. That's are two years more. Back then, we were like rabbits, Sir Nicholas. Doing the maths…" Rose stopped a moment to think, " about nine thousand orgasms. Maybe more. 10? Ten thousand orgasms is a good number, don't you think? And you asked yourself how did he do to train me to be a good wife? Well… I must be stupid if I let him go. Which I am, apparently. Because you know better than me that a woman should be trained by a man to be someone, don't you?" Now the sweet look she had, was replaced by a cold stare. Sir Nicholas gulped and decided that was enough. Without words, he stood up and go to somewhere else. Maybe, next time he could choose his words more carefully.

"Fucking loser," she said sat now where he was, next to Alfie.

"Indeed." He looked at her and raised his hand. Rose did the same and high-fived him. "One less."

After a moment in silence, both of them contemplating the rest of the guests. Rose finally talked again.

"You owe me two, Alfie."

"Darling, if we leave this fucking boring meeting right now, I'll give you four."

Rose looked sideways and smiled naughtily. "Deal."

.

"What if I write a book? 'How to train your wife'" said Alfie later that night in bed, when neither of them had more energies "it'd be a best seller."

"You're not talking seriously." Rose lifted her head from the pillow to look at him.

"Well, maybe I am."

"Really, Alfie? Well, I have an advice for you: buy 'how to train your husband' first. And read rule number one: let him believe he's in charge. In fact, that's it! there's only one rule, that one. Write the book, Al. Good luck, sweetheart."

Alfie chuckled. She won and after all, he never wanted to write that book.

#alfie x rose

[justrainandcoffee]

Omg! Wishes do come true 🤭!

Luca became Dark!Luca!! I shouldn't be surprised, after all the signs were there, but I had hopes... 😔.

They lie to her!! Poor woman!! All that time believing her brother was dead 🤬!! Her suffering!

Hope the twins, plus Arthur, could finish them. And they could live in peace 🤧.

mayhaps a fabulous miss shelby pt 3? 😳😳 (technically mrs changretta now haaaa)

Somewhere in the distance a monkey's finger curled on its paw

The Fabulous Miss Shelby

Part 3

Gif by@mrs-gray

Life seems to regain its colors after baby Tommy is born.

He is Thomas to you and Tommaso to everyone else.

You knew grief, you had lost your mother, John and your family, and you knew with time it no longer hurts as much.

You are no longer the woman you were, the Fabulous Miss Shelby had been buried with her twin brother in Small Heath. You were the Elegant Mrs. Changretta who was the moon to the sun you used to be.

Luca is as loving and attentive as always, making up for the loathing his mother feels for you.

But he refuses to let you go home and grieve for your family properly. Not only that, he has his people keep you disconnected from them and ensure your ties home remain severed.

You loved him, but he became what you had dreaded worst.

Luca had become your jailor and your marriage a prison.

But he had underestimated you and overestimated the loyalty of the housemaids. You planned your escape ---you’d return to him eventually, you think--- and took your son with you home to Birmingham.

As far as they know you are only going to spend the winter holidays with your family.

You walk with your head up high down the streets you grew up in and rang the door at 6 Watery Lane as if you weren’t shaking from the anxiety of facing your family after deserting them in the name of love.

You were not expecting Him to open the door. He was dead, he was buried with baby Charles in the mausoleum in Arrow House. But he is there alive and furious and happy and everything in between.

You throw yourself into his arms unable to keep your composure, “You’re alive, you’re alive. They told me you were dead, and I’m so sorry I believed them, Tom.”

“We Shelbys are hard to kill.” he says and welcomes you in as if nothing had happened.

On Christmas Day, every Shelby receives Luca’s calling card, a Black Hand.

#luca changretta x fem!reader

[justrainandcoffee]

I went to "yesss!! She's alive" to ↓

Oh god.. THE ANGST!!!

May is so sweet, stop!! I love her so much 🤧🤧. Even after the tragedy, she's a kind soul.

Everything here is sad as fuck. Lizzie had a girl with Angel!! And Angel is fucking dead ( I want an universe where Lizzie is happy,please 😭)

I never hated Audrey Changretta that much before reading your series with Eva and Luca... And here again. That fucking bitch. And Luca is a fucking idiot who is easily manipulated by her. Momma boy 😒.

And the kid named after hrr brother.

Poor girl, poor Tommy. It's not fair!!!

If you ever write part 3, I'm here to read it.

The Fabulous Miss Shelby

Part 1

Part 2

May do a part three

Gif by @imaginesbymk

Cw:murder, mentions of child loss

May doesn’t die, but Angel does.

May had been pregnant and the baby had been lost from her brush with death.

Angel’s death was caused by the Russians too.

Everyone just wanted to believe that Tommy would put a pillow over his face because his baby son was born too early.

Too bad no one believed you.

The only way to stop this was to marry Luca as soon as possible.

Tie the families together to prevent bloodshed.

“I can’t marry you, Y/N. Angel is dead because of him. My baby brother is dead. I cannot marry his murderers sister.” He cries as he tells you when the tables are turned and he leaves you at the altar.

“If I could make Tommy see sense, I could be of use.” May says when you burden her with your problems.

May had been the only one to know about you and Luca.

Tommy is different, and you understand why he is now harder and meaner and cruel.

He almost lost his wife along with their child, but he was blaming the wrong people.

The Italians weren’t to blame, Section D was the real villain.

“You need to tell him about Luca, tell him why he was at the Charity with you.” She urged you as Tommy kept her like a princess in a tower.

“I will, May, once he comes back from the dinner I’ll come clean.” You swear to her.

The universe hates you; you think as your invincible twin brother is tossed outside your place with a broken skull.

Is this your punishment for saying no to Luca those five years with him?

You didn’t want to marry him then and now that you want to be his forever you just can’t.

And worse, you can’t confide in Tommy about it.

“What happened to your fiance?” he asks when he is fine enough to talk.

His recovery was going smoothly, maybe it was because he had May who was guiding him to the finish line like a lighthouse in a storm.

“Didn’t work out, Tom.” You say and bite your tongue. Wouldn’t have in the long run, he’s Italian and you think Italians hired a Russian with bad Italian to kill John.

“You really loved him, didn’t you?” he asks and you look away.

No one knew you better than your twin and no one knew Tommy like you did.

“Yeah, he waited five years to get a yes from me and now that I said yes he said no.” you admit.

“Do we know him?” he asks again.

You should lie and say no.

“Yeah. Luca Changretta. That’s why he was at the party, they weren’t planning anything against you. He was there so I could introduce him as my fiancé.” It’s too soon. The doctors said no bad news, but this can’t wait anymore.

“Then who sent the man after May?” Tommy’s angry thinking love has turned your head to mush. You’re not him, he forgets that all the time.

“Man was Russian, stole the clothes of one of Angel’s men. Same Russians who framed you for Angel’s accident and death that night too.” You answer, you always did have the answers to the questions he could never ask anyone else.

“Who did you fuck over, Tommy?” its your turn to ask.

“No one, there’s a group of people who don’t like paying for the dirty work. Didn’t know that until Churchill had me sign the fucking contract for the job.”

You aren’t the first Shelby to run away in a wedding dress and pregnant with your husband’s child.

Polly had, Ada and now you.

He’s in Liverpool with his parents when you reach him.

“Tommy didn’t kill him. I swear to you that he didn’t.” Instead of a bridal bouquet you have the identity of Angel’s murderer.

But he doesn’t believe you.

If his parents don’t, he won’t either.

But he marries you then and there when you tell him you are pregnant.

You cease to be Miss Shelby then.

“You cannot save your family.” Your mother-in-law says as she holds baby Angela, Lizzie and Angel’s baby girl while she tells you the news Luca will not tell you.

She thinks it’s wrong that Tommy doesn’t get to pay for killing Angel.

Audrey takes sick delight in tormenting you. She hates that Luca lives you more than he should.

She hates that you for being a Shelby, and she hates her unborn grandson for being one too.

You are seven months pregnant, a boy, you are sure of it.

You cannot save your family from the noose Tommy’s deals tied around their necks.

And all you can do is cry on Luca’s chest when your mother-in-law tells you their execution date has been moved up.

You give birth to Thomas Changretta in the bleak midwinter.

#luca changretta x shelby sister

[justrainandcoffee]

OMFG!!!!!

I never saw this before and I'm truly grateful for your reblog because it's amazing!

This girl and Luca agsffaghg. I love them. I love her attitude. Despite having sex with him, Luca had to wait YEARS until she truly accepted him. Work for it, Changretta 🤭.

I love secret romance, especially if it's forbidden like this one.

Tommy marrying May instead of Grace, it was indeed unexpected it!

And the same events that happened in canon... But with May instead of Grace...NOOOOOO!!

On my way to read part 2.

The Fabulous Miss Shelby

Part one

Luca Changretta x Shelby sister

CW: mentions of an abortion

Gif by @x-changretta-x

In the beginning, the Shelbys and the Changrettas were not enemies.

They weren’t friends, but they weren’t enemies.

Occasionally Polly fucked Luca, the boys would go out for drinks with Angel and you and Ada would get nice clothes from Audrey’s nieces while she and mama talked.

But then things changed, Polly got married to Michael Gray after Luca was banished to New York, the boys had a falling out with Angel and you and Ada had to take care of Finn after mama died and papa left.

Before you knew it you were in your twenties and accepting an invitation to some Changretta’s wedding just to avoid being rude.

No need to piss off the wops, Tommy had said after ordering you to go by your lonesome while he pines for the mousy bitch who nearly got them all killed.

“Long time no see.” Luca said as he tried making conversation with you.

You were in a foul mood, but the Italians had great food and drinks and maybe, just maybe one of them would take you to their place and return you with a limp later tomorrow.

Would it be too weird to fuck your aunt’s former boyfriend?

It was only a six-year age difference, surely it wasn’t that bad. And Polly had moved on and you hoped he had to.

“Nearly a decade, Luca. John could’ve been a grandfather had you taken longer.” You joke and you feel like the stupid teenager who used to have the biggest crush on Polly’s one time boyfriend.

“or you could’ve been married.” He adds and she tries not to choke on her wine.

One thing leads to another and now you are running off to New York just to see him.

Your brothers don’t know anything about this, no they just think you’ve decided to go on holiday with a friend.

A friend with money and connections and great skill with his cock.

“We could get married, amore, our families aren’t enemies. If you become my wife, our families could rule America and England together.” He says as the two of you lounge naked in tangled silk sheets.

You already lie and say you are husband and wife, why not make it true?

“They wouldn’t agree, you know that, my love.” You say knowing it will never happen.

“I could do some pest control and give them the Rat’s head on a platter, will that make them agree, tesoro?” he asks kissing you again.

As tempting as Grace’s justified murder is, you know that would make Tommy say no.

He loved her.

Just like Nathaniel in the Sandman loved Olympia thinking she was real.

It was pathetic really.

“No, you know how she crowed about Tommy still being in love with her last night. Tommy’s always been a fool when it comes to love and fucking.” You shook your head hating this turn of conversation.

Besides. You were free and would remain so. You loved Luca, but you were never going to be a man’s wife.

That had been why you went to the woman who Polly knows instead of telling Luca you had gotten pregnant during that night a year ago.

“Aren’t we all fools in love.” He said with that stupid grin.

Maybe you are, you think, I am different.

You were the fabulous Miss Shelby, the one who doesn’t suffer from the Achilles heel your siblings have.

Arthur had Linda, Tommy had Grace, Ada had Freddie, John had Martha and now Esme and you would be damned if you followed suit.

This way was better.

It’s 1922 when Luca suprises you at the Derby.

“He doesn’t love you anymore, he’s marrying a woman named May Carlton.” You tell Grace a truth Tommy told you this morning.

Tommy was planning on courting May in truth, he’d asked for advice and you told him he’d find no better woman than her.

That night with Grace was a slip up, a fuck up he’d never repeat, or so he told you after you asked about that.

Grace MacMillan needed to woman up and accept defeat for his sake.

“You are lying!” the blonde cries and takes a swing at you only to be stopped by Luca.

“Why would my wife be lying to you? Thomas Shelby would be a fucking fool to marry scum like you, now go back to New York and pretend this never happened.” He stood at your side and stared her down as he chewed on his toothpick.

“I need to hear it from him.” She demands only for Luca to say the damning words.

“Too bad, he’s been arrested and won’t be coming out of there for weeks.” Luca built up on a lie.

Once Grace leaves in a mess of anger and tears, you are reminded of that question you refuse to answer.

“I think wife was too much, Luca.” You tell him as the two of you walk away together.

“I want to marry you, that is why I came here. Thomas can’t say no of he sees how happy I make you.” He is adamant, thinking that what you need is time.

No man respects your decision to remain free. You love your freedom more than you love Luca.

And he refuses to accept that.

He will never accept that; you hear Polly’s voice in the back of your mind.

Its 1925 when you accept an engagement from him.

He is not allowed at Tommy’s wedding and you are relieved when everything goes wrong.

Angel started seeing Lizzy and this had made a mess because Tommy still held a torch for her.

No woman was enough for Tommy, not Grace, not Lizzie, not even sweet May.

Tommy set the boys loose on the Changretta’s territory and now you wonder if you should just send Luca the diamond ring he gave you on your birthday instead of telling Tommy you were engaged to him.

“You should’ve told them!” Lizzie hissed in pain as her dreams with Angel crumble to dust. “He would’ve let me go if you had told them about Luca!”

After three months of thinking about it you decide to tell him at the opening of May’s charity.

“I need to tell you something, Tommy.” You wear Luca’s ring on your finger as May talks to John and Esme across the ballroom.

Everyone lived May, who couldn’t?

You only hoped your family would accept Luca as well.

“Is this about this mystery man you’ve been with all this time?” he said pointing to the ring.

“Yeah, I’m going to marry him and I think it’s about time you knew who he is.” You begin only to be interrupted by a gun shot and shouting.

The man shouts in Italian, but he isn’t one. You know the Italians wouldn’t do this, not when they know your marriage will fix the issues with the family and let Angel and Lizzie leave tonight.

“For Angel!” the man shouts and aims at John.

But it’s not John he hits, no, it’s May.

May who could never hate anyone. May who brings out the good in Tommy and doesn’t judge any of your like Grace did.

Its when you see the sickening smile on the Russian bitch that you realize who sent the gunman.

End of part 1

Part 2

Notes

The Sandman is a short story by E.T.A Hoffman in 1817 about Nathaniel who is obsesses with this man named Coppola whom he believes is a monster called the Sandman (turns out to be right,but no one believes him) , Nathaniel also falls in love with his ideal woman, his teacher Spallanzani's daughter, Olympia, after dumping his ex ,Clara, who he felt too artificial (being a normal woman with a good head on her shoulders)only to find out that Olympia is a human looking doll who is cold to the touch, described as dull and mechanical bybeveryyone else. Olympia can play and sing and only say ah ha in converstion and listens to his boring shit with interest cuz she is in fact a fucking robot and not a real human. Nathaniel then goes insane after discovering she is a doll created by his tecaher and Coppola/Coppelius.

Tagging the @staff to see if it shows up in the tags

#peaky blinders #luca changretta

[justrainandcoffee]

💐🌸🌷🌼🌹🌺🪻🌼🌻 these are for everyone and i love you all and i love each and every bit of everything you do 💗

#💐

[justrainandcoffee]

This is something that Eva and Lucy could love 😂.

I'm shooting you... With love, bitch 🤭.

@evita-shelby @emotionalcadaver

A flintlock rifle with a twisted barrel and heart shaped bore from 1765, formerly owned by George IV, now part of the Royal Collection Trust

More: https://bio.link/museumofartifacts

#history

[justrainandcoffee]

Youre right! She wasn't a bad person and I wanted to show that. She was also a victim of the war who found in Alfie a different man.

But Alfie is right, she created a image of him that it wasn't real. Guinevere was desperate to find a true love that created in him an unrealistic version of Alfie, especially because of the way he talks about Rose. Her comment about being able of give him kids it was a desperate attempt to get him... Impossible but.

And for them... they were desperate to be together 🥺❤️. Not counting the years apart thanks to Evert, the war was the only thing that separated them for that long 💔. But she's too stubborn to left him alone. Even if it was a couple of days, she had to be with him.

And I had to give Guinevere a happy ending... I remember that I changed this final at least 3 times until I was happy with it.

Thanks for reading, Laur!!

The ghost of a Rose (Alfie Solomons x fem!oc)

Alfie Solomons x Rose Coldwell (ofc) - Masterlist

Summary: 1916. Alfie had been fighting for two years now and the Great War caused more damage that the one he dares to say. Last time he was able to see his wife was long months ago but at least he has her letters. One day he meets Guinevere, a prostitute. She doesn't know why, but she fell for him. Sadly for her, there's a ghost called Rose.

Warnings: Unrequited love. War themes in general. Suicide. Death. One (1) mention of infertility.||

Words: 3.5 K.

1916.

It was one of those nights where Alfie Solomons and his men could enjoy a false peace. It was one of those nights where if it wasn't for the joyous cries of soldiers hugging women, laughing and playing cards, you could hear the crickets chirping on that warm, damp French night in August.

But Alfie was not among those men. He was leaning alone against the wall of a bar smoking his pipe and reading a letter. A letter he had received a fortnight ago and had read many times already, but it was what gave him some comfort at the time. He hoped to receive another one soon. It should have arrived by now, in fact, but it was not uncommon for the post to be late either. Alfie put the letter in his pocket again.

The last few days had been difficult, perhaps the most so since he had arrived in France. Some of the men in his charge had gone to make an inspection, and of the ten who had gone, only six had returned. Of those six, one came back with injuries so severe that he asked for a gun to take his own life. No one stopped him. There was no way he could physically recover from that and the physical pain must have been so unbearable that death was the most humane way they could offer him. His body must now be on its way back to England.

So Alfie was still trying to recover from that. On his shoulders lay those five deaths and he couldn't get it out of his mind. Some of them were even younger than him, who by 1916 was 28.

"You want to have a good time, soldier?"

A woman, clearly a prostitute, had approached him while he was thinking. Almost without looking at her, he shook his head.

"I can do it for free the first time. I see you're of high rank, soldier, what are you? Sergeant?"

"Captain. Listen, sweetheart, yeah? It's not a good time. And I'm not interested, even if it's free. I'm married."

"You know how many married men I've met since the war started, Captain? It's not cheating on your wife, it's making you forget your troubles. That's what a good fuck does."

"I don't know how many men you've met, luv, but I'm not going to be one of them, right? I never even thought about it."

"Then your wife's a lucky woman, Captain. How long have you been married to her? Do you have children?"

"Five years and now, we don't have kids. At least not now, which I'm grateful for because if anything happens to me I couldn't leave her alone to take care of them. We want kids, but we haven't had any luck so far. Maybe it's not the right time..."

"Maybe," said the prostitute lighting a cigarette. She looked at the man in front of her. He was not the first she had seen like this. War broke the best men, the strongest men, transforming them into a kind of fragile child in a grown man's body. In the two years that the war had been going on, she had seen men taller and stronger than the one standing next to her cry at the sensation of a kiss or a hug. It was true, in normal times sex with prostitutes was just that: sex. In times of war, it was finding 15 minutes of peace, of feeling human again, of feeling that they could dream of a normal life again. Or to feel that it was the last time they would feel the caress of a woman, before going back to the trenches and having their bodies blown to pieces by a bomb, disappearing from this world forever.

"My name is Guinevere. Or just Gui."

"Alfie Solomons," he said extending his hand to her.

"Nice to meet you, Captain Solomons." Guinevere smiled at him. In wartime, a prostitute sometimes, as in this case, became a willing ear to listen.

For the next two days, she just listened. He told her his story and she let him talk. Not just about his wife, who Guinevere already knew was called Rose, but about his life in general. Even about the men who had died, he claimed, because of him.

She had heard rumours of Alfie's temper, but this Captain Solomons they spoke of did not seem to be the same as the one she knew. True, he had the look of a gruff man, but he didn't seem to be so gruff when she spoke to him. Not to mention the way he talked about his wife. A man talking like that about his woman couldn't be a bad man. In a way, Guinevere thought he was soft and kind.

After a week, Guinevere refused to accept that the Englishman had bewitched her. Who was this Alfie Solomons and why had he done to her what other men had not?

The war had taken him away again. When it began it had been one woman watching over his return, now it was two. Though his heart belonged to only one.

Guinevere knowing that, but not wanting to be silent either, let her heart speak in a letter. In the end, it was not only the soldiers who sought comfort in the midst of war.

That day in particular was raining and the trenches were unusually in calm. It was raining and Alfie's whole body was in pain. Half-drinking his coffee in a rusty metal mug, Alfie opened the first of the letters he received that day. It was from a Jewish family he had known for many years, asking if he could do anything to bring their son back to London. Clearly that was not possible, not if the boy was healthy and physically stable. That was the reality: every man of fighting age, at that point, was just a piece of meat and the country needed them. Or so they said.

The second was from his wife. Alfie couldn't help but smile as he read it. If it wasn't for his dreams and the photos he had, he might have forgotten her face. The war made him see only the horrors that were there. He needed her in a way that went beyond the physical. It was needing her. How she made him laugh, when she told him about her day or when they just enjoyed something together in everyday life. From playing with Fancy, the dog they'd had for a few months after they were married, to sharing a bath together.

The third letter surprised him more than the first. And even more so when he read it. Guinevere had opened her heart to him and Alfie did not know what to say. Although an unrequited love, he was grateful for the company, for being a friend in those dark times. For listening to him talk endlessly, about what plagued him but he was sure he gave no sign of any other kind of interest. Not when all he talked about, apart from the war, was his wife.

Alfie took a sip of his coffee and stared at the paper. Perhaps that was why she had confused his feelings. Maybe because he had been kind and he wasn't sure how many kind people were left in the world at the moment. He certainly wasn't one of those anymore, but there was no reason to treat the girl who had been nice to him badly either. Alfie definitely didn't want to hurt her feelings, but if she was expecting something that thing wasn't going to happen.

Guinevere was living on an illusion and he couldn't blame her for that. Alfie decided, once again, to be honest with her. He never received another letter from the girl from that moment on.

The next time he was able to take a break from the battlefield again, it was early December 1916. In that part of France, and he sensed that all over the country, there was a Christmas atmosphere that had little to do with the war that was going on. He, as a Jew, did not mind but he had to admit that it was a contrast of very different worlds. His soldiers were scattered around the town and were enjoying being alive, they deserved it.

"Captain..." late at night, as he sat alone at a bar table eating fish, Guinevere's voice made him raise his eyes. "May I?" she asked pointing to a chair and he nodded.

"Did you eat?"

"Not really."

Without waiting for an answer, Alfie motioned to a man and he immediately brought another plate of food this time for her.

"Thank you," Guinevere said, smiling briefly. "I want to apologise for the letter, I'm sorry I shouldn't have. I... I just wanted to tell you. I don't know if anything like this has ever happened to me before, Alfie. I'm not going to deny my feelings, but it wasn't fair to make you feel uncomfortable either."

"I am flattered. But no, I didn't expect it. Guinevere, I am not the man you have idealised in your head..."

"I'm not stupid, Alfie! I know what I see." Guinevere looked at the plate before continuing, "I can give you kids," she whispered, "You said you wanted kids! If after five years of marriage she didn't get pregnant yet, it's because she's one of those women..."

Alfie sighed deeply, "Stop right there. Do you think my wife and I didn't have this conversation already? Do ya know that we saw doctors, ol' Jewish women and even witches? We tried everything. But I don't care. If she can't give me a kid, I don't fuckin' care, Guinevere. I want a kid with her. No one else."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

"And besides that, I ain't a good man, I won't be either. And I am truly fortunate that my wife has always accepted me for who I am. I don't owe her any explanations, nor am I going to change who I am either. I'm sure there's a good man waiting for ya, one who can really offer you what you want and you can give kids to him. You're a good woman, you're pretty... you should let more people see that side of you that you've shown me."

"I'm just a whore to them. Just another one."

"Well, then prove that you're not just that. My Rosie would tell you something like that, she'd tell you it's worth fighting to be better. And I'm sure she'd help you. She's helped a lot of women over the years, if you ever go to London and look her up, you'll see what I'm talking about."

"I'd only see the woman who stole the heart of the man I love. She's a ghost haunting me."

Alfie smiled. "I don't think so. It's the same as sayin' if someone goes to my bakery they'd only see her husband. It ain't like that, right?. And I won't tell ya again about all the good things I love about her, but helping women in need, that's somethin' she does well."

"You really love her..."

"I do. Very much."

"If I find a man who talks about me half as much as you talk about her, then I'm gonna be happy."

"Nah, pet, I hope ya find a man who talks about you twice as much as I talk about Rose."

Guinevere smiled and tried to disguise the lump in her throat by eating. Alfie felt that perhaps she needed a moment alone, so he stood up from his chair and before he went outside, kissed her forehead. She really was a good woman.

A soldier approached him before Alfie could leave the bar. The young man had not finished speaking when Alfie pushed him aside and ran out of the place. Surprised by his reaction, Guinevere followed him with her eyes looking out the window of the bar.

Outside was a short woman, wearing a beige coat and a light blue dress. She was looking around as if looking for someone, until Alfie approached her. Guinevere saw the exact moment when he lifted her into the air and the two kissed. She didn't have to wonder who the woman was, it was clearly his wife. She was Rose Solomons. Guinevere looked at them again. She wasn't a ghost anymore. He was still holding her in his arms, but they were silent even though their foreheads were touching. She would have liked to have had that connection with someone.

When she looked again, neither Alfie nor his wife were there. Guinevere finished her dinner and also left the bar. The difference was that there was no one waiting for her.

1916. London

"I want to go to France, mom. I need to see Alfie. I don't care if he said he'd come like last time. What Alfie doesn't want is for me to see what it's like. The horrors he sees. But it's not like I'm going to the battlefield either, it's the city. There are civilians, people are trying to go about their lives normally even when it's full of men in uniform. It's been months now..."

Mary Coldwell saw her daughter. At 28 she was already a woman but sometimes she still came back to her, as she had many years before. But that was a regular occurrence, especially in the last two years. Her middle son had also gone to war and she prayed that her youngest son, 17-year-old Louis, would not have to follow the same path as his brother Samuel and Alfie.

"What do you think Alfie will say?"

"I don't know. I can read in his letters everything he doesn't tell me. He tells me that the food is not enough and that sometimes he gets cold. That, as if that's the worst he's going through. BULLSHIT!" Rose slapped her hands against the armrest of the armchair, "Alfie's too proud and loves me too much to confess to me what he thinks. He doesn't want me to be bad, but he's not succeeding."

"Alfie's a strong man, he knows that..."

"I know. And I know what you're going to tell me, but I need to see him. It's not enough for me to write to him every two weeks anymore. I can't stand it, I feel useless in this country. And I hate that."

"If you've already made the decision to go, why are you asking me if it's okay for you to go?"

"Because I want you to tell me, that if I go, everything will be fine." Rose said looking at her mother, "and because I need you to look after Fancy and her babies." she added in reference to her dog and the puppies that had been born a month ago. A smile appeared on Mary Coldwell's face as she nodded.

"Everything will be fine. And I can look after Fancy and the puppies."

.

According to Alfie's letters, in early December he would be allowed to go to rest again. That was the chance Rose had been waiting for, she didn't know when, otherwise she could go to France. It could be two months or six, she never knew. And that was if Alfie was still alive, which was something she certainly didn't want to think about. The alternative was to see him back in a coffin and Rose knew that no matter how many years passed she would never be ready for that.

The day she took a ship across the sea to France, she felt her heart pounding. She didn't know how she would find Alfie. Last time, when he had been back in England for only a week, he was far from the man who had left the country, and that worried her. If he was thin, he would put on weight sooner or later when he ate well again. If he was cold, the two blankets she had knitted for him would surely keep him warm. But his mind... Rose knew the after-effects were inevitable, but she hoped that in Alfie's case they would not be so severe. France and England had never seemed so far apart.

It took two more days to get to where he was. The train had broken down and by the time it was fixed, it was late at night. The old receptionist at the small hotel she had found for the night seemed rather surprised to see an English woman in that area at that hour, but he also knew why she had come. After dropping off her suitcase, Rose almost ran in search of Alfie.

A soldier in an English uniform was resting on a bench when she approached.

"Excuse me, I'd like to know where I can find the rest of the soldiers who started their rest today. It's 904th Battalion. I'm looking for my husband."

The young man raised his head and looked at her "I'm part of the 904th, who is your husband, ma'am?"

"He's Captain Solomons. Alfred Solomons."

The soldier jumped to his feet, gasping, "Shit! Yes! Excuse me, Mrs. Solomons! Yes, ma'am, come with me. My captain was at dinner, I suppose he's still there."

The soldier walked down the damp stone street and Rose went after him. He entered an old wooden pub where outside there were soldiers talking and laughing with each other. Some of them were accompanied by women who were clearly prostitutes. Without knowing why, the anticipation of seeing Alfie was making her nervous. He was her husband, God damn it, not a stranger. But she hadn't seen him in so long...

"Rosie?"

The sound of his voice made her turn and she finally saw him. She finally smiled again. Alfie ran to her and took her in his arms lifting her off the floor. Rose put her arms around his neck and they kissed. What did it matter if they were being watched? Alfie held her even tighter against his body. The kiss wasn't like in the love movies. It was desperate, hungry. It was an inelegant kiss, but it was one filled with love.

Only when they needed to breathe did they pull apart. But they pressed their foreheads together. Alfie let her perfume fill his nostrils and took a deep breath.

"Rosie..."

"Al..."

"This is a fuckin', surprise, luv."

"I missed you. I miss you, so much, Al."

He kissed her again, more softly this time. "I rented a hotel room, not far from here," she said, caressing his face. "We can go, if you want to."

"If I want to?" Alfie smiled against her lips "Are you really asking that?"

Rose chuckled.

When he finally set her back down, she took his hand and the two of them walked back to the hotel where she was.

What did it matter if the bed wasn't comfortable, what did it matter if it was noisy and what did it matter if anyone was listening. They hadn't seen each other, felt each other, loved each other for a long time and they were in the middle of a war that no one had asked for. His uniform lay somewhere on the floor along with her dress and her coat, while they lay on the bed desperately loving each other.

Another time he wouldn't have been so rough. After the trauma Evert had caused her, whenever they were together Alfie was usually rather gentle, except if she asked him not to be. But this time, he couldn't help it. It was the joy of finally seeing her, of kissing her and it was finding the best way to get rid of all his frustrations and all the horrors that plagued his mind. Alfie simply couldn't control his energy. But given the way she clung to him with her legs on his hips, and let him make her climax over and over again, she evidently didn't care how rough he was at the time.

Only the third time they made love that night, Alfie went back to being him. He apologised to her, as he stroked her hair.

"Don't apologise again," she warned him against his chest. She had discovered he had new scars and was kissing one over his shoulder. "It was beautiful and I love you."

"I love ya, too. Fuckin' hell, I do love you, sweetheart." He said, holding her against her body. "I've missed you. I miss everything about you" Alfie put his lips over her again and left a soft kiss. Then, for the first time in a lot of time, he fell asleep embracing his wife and not a fusil.

If the night before hadn't been enough, the next morning they had sex again.

"I think we should've breakfast at some point," she said on top of him while he still had his hands on his wife's hips.

"No, I don't think so. I've got everything I need right here."

The two laughed before giving each other one last kiss and finally going to breakfast because they were truly starving.

One of the few cafés that had decided not to close its doors was a typically French one with tables and chairs outside even though it was December and cold. There were hardly any people there when they arrived. They sat inside enjoying the smell of coffee and the warmth of the place.

"I have to get used to seeing you without a beard and really short hair, Al. It's weird," she commented touching his shaved cheek.

"It's not my favourite look, my love. But it's the easiest. You have no idea how the damn cooties get in the trenches and how annoying it is to scratch every now and then."

"I'd rather not know, Al," she replied, shaking her head.

Guinevere happened to be passing by when she saw them leaving the cafe, about an hour later. He didn't see her, though the wife did. But Rose not knowing who Guinevere was, she simply continued to pay attention to whatever Alfie was saying.

It wasn't that Guinevere hated Rose, it was just that she would have liked to have a bit of Alfie for herself, too. But the way they looked at each other as he fixed her hat when the wind that day blew it off or how she simply smiled at him... Guinevere knew, as she had always known, that there was no place for someone like her in his life. Alfie was right, she had let her fantasies be fed by a man who was clearly never going to see her as a woman.

For her own sake, she decided to let them go. Alfie and Rose were lost in the streets of that French town and even when Rose returned to London and he to the battlefield, Guinevere never saw him again or tried to think of him. Only once did she pass him on a street corner. It was already late 1917. It was said that finally the 904th Battalion, those who were left alive, had done their duty and would return home even if the war was not over yet. Guinevere could only imagine the reunion between the lovers, finally, knowing that they would not be separated again because of this war that was finally showing a winning side. A winner that was an illusion. The millions of dead said clearly that no one had won, it simply served to put a brake on this murderous nonsense. Welcome though that stop was.

Guinevere was right about one thing. Though after that December 1916, Alfie and Rose had seen each other three more times in the next ten months, now the worst was finally behind them. At that train station that had separated them three years before, they were now reunited forever. They had promised each other never to part like that again, and until the moment of her death more than 40 years later, they kept the promise. But Guinevere wasn't right about another thing, and that was that she would never find someone who spoke of her the way Alfie Solomons spoke of Rose Coldwell.

1922.

By this time, it was two years since she had left France and returned to the place of her birth. She worked in a sweet shop and there she met a man. It was not love at first sight, but it was close. Had she forgotten Alfie? Not at first. Now that she was also in London she sometimes wondered if she would ever see him, but in that huge city it soon became clear that it was difficult. Anyway, maybe he didn't know who she was any more.

That was until this man turned up. The first thing she noticed when she saw him, apart from the fact that he was tall, was that mixture of innocence and kindness very atypical from a man a century ago. He was a banker, living in middle of the city with two small kids. His first wife had died because of the Spanish flu one and a half year ago.

As it turned out, the man had been impressed with her. Although shy and tongue-tied at first, he asked her to dinner and she accepted. Guinevere also discovered how impossible it was not to love him. Something he had also discovered in her.

She confessed to him her past as a prostitute. He didn't care, he appreciated her honesty. Same way, she didn't care if he was a single father with two kids. After three dates, they shared their first kiss. She was the one who made the first move, he was still shy.

Guinevere had her happy ending and Alfie Solomons was just an old memory of a love that never was.

#alfie x rose