#its been really therapeutic for me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mostofthingsmostofthetime · 2 months

Text

So this is my idea of what the afterlife would look like for Everlark (this is a very rough draft) -

Katniss, as an old lady, smiling as she talks with a young man in a brown leather jacket & a short whisp of a woman in a colourful dress.

A woman with curly hair decorated with flowers (every kind except white roses) & a brown eyed boy are deep in conversation.

Prim & Rue (who also have flowers decorating their hair - for Rue it's the ones she was "burried" with & for Prim it's the ones Peeta planted by Katniss's house) are playing with Buttercup & Lady as their mother's (one of which looks much younger then she did in Katniss's lifetime) watch on fondly.

Old man Peeta suddenly strolls into the clearing with an, old, Delly laughing & talking as they carry baskets of freshly baked goods. Madge gives a wave & a smile then goes back to trying to teach Delly's brother how to play the recorder.

The woman talking with Katniss & the man in the leather jacket stop when Peeta approaches, let's out a squeaky laugh at his apology before going to join the conversation between the curly haired woman & the brown eyed boy.

Peeta puts down his basket to hug Katniss & the man in the leather jacket smiles & kisses her forehead before heading to where his wife is.

Peeta asks her where the others are, to which she says Haymitch & his GF went to visit Mayslee, Hazelle had left to catch up with her family & Greasy Sae went to spend time with Ripper.

Peeta was disappointed as he'd just finished making a strawberry tart that would have been a perfect dessert for Madge's father & Katniss lovingly reminds him that Madge can take it with her whenever she leaves.

Then Mags & Finnick show up, by climbing out of a lake, with a young Annie (they're both dressed in their wedding clothes). Peeta & Katniss congratulates her on reuniting with Finnick again & on all she's accomplished in her life after they left, explaining that Finnick & Mags weren't the only ones checking up on her from this place.

That wether it was from Peeta's kitchen window, Katniss's lake, the puddles Haymitch's geese loved to splash around in, the throats of the Mockingjays or Finnick's & Mags's dreams. Everyone had seen, heard or felt the best & worst parts of her life without them & had just been waiting for her to finally be able to join them.

Mags (now free of the effects of her stroke) gose to join in the conversation between the short, whisp of a woman, the lady with the curly flowery hair & the brown eyed boy, who'd began feeding bread crumbs to a flock of Mockingjays.

Finnick smiles lovingly at Annie as she burst into tears when, later in the evening, Joahnna trudges into the clearing, plops down in front of the fire & deposits a bag of shells she'd "happened to stumble upon" in her lap which Annie & Peeta deside to set aside to paint/turn into jewellery later.

Much to everyones delight, Mr Everdeen opens one of the baskets & pulls out the ingredients to make smores. Then when eveyones nice & full him, Lucy & Maude strike up a song. Peeta eventually gets Katniss to join in, which makes her dad smile, her mum cry, Prim (with Buttercup on her lap & Lady at her feet) & Rue cheer, Joahnna wolf whistle & everyone else laugh & clap along.

When the fire finally dies out & the only light left comes from the moon & fire flys most of the people start saying their farewells & heading to their own "places" until its only Katniss, Peeta, her family, a young Haymitch & his family left.

At that point they all walk to what would be the Victors village in the real world (but there is no gate, the houses aren't run down & the path to get there is covered in flowers & beatiful wildlife).

Once outside his home, Haymitch says a hasty goodbye to Katniss & Peeta before him & his younger brother are battling to see who can make it through the door first (much to their mother's exasperation).

Katniss & Peeta then go to drop the Everdeens at their house that has a plant shop downstairs & leave just as Prim is begging Mrs Everdeen to allow Rue to sleep over the next day to which she replys 'if her mother allows it' (Katniss of course dose not leave without giving her dad & sister a big hug while her mother settles for a kiss on the cheek).

Katniss & Peeta then make their way to where Katniss's childhood home once recided (though much cleaner & warmer than it had ever been when she'd actually lived there & now with a rather nice kitchen).

As Buttercup curls up at the foot of their bed (she & Prim take it in turns who he stays the night with) & the two lovebirds get ready for bed Katniss turns to her husband.

'I want a night with the girl's tomorrow,' she says. 'I thought you might,' says Peeta with a smile. 'I'll be younger....for a bit,' Katniss decides. 'So will I, probably,' says Peeta. 'Oh?' Asks Katniss, curious. 'I was thinking of visiting my family for a few hours,' he admits. 'That's great, just don't let your mother-'. 'I won't, I promise'. Katniss still dosn't look sure. 'Tell you what if she says anything even remotely passive aggressive, I'll leave straight away & just hang out with Haymitch & Finnick for the day?'. 'Good, it's just'. 'I know'. 'I don't ever want you feeling bad about yourself again, not here'. 'Don't worry, this place is good, we'll always be safe here'. 'Like in our cave?' She asks fondly. 'Even better,' he insists as he wraps his arms around her small but plump frame. 'How long do you think it'll take for the others to come, do you think?'. 'Not for a long time, hopefully,' he responds & she sighs. 'You're right, I guess I just miss hugging my babies,' she admits. 'I know, my little swamp potato,' he teases making Katniss sit up with a blush. 'Oh, I should never have taught you about plants!' She seeths making her husband laugh, dissolving her anger as quickly as it had come but also waking Buttercup with a hiss. 'Ok, ok, we'll quieten down, you silly old thing,' she muttered. 'Hey, be nice to your sister's cat,' Peeta teased again. 'His both of ours now,' she reminded him primly before sticking her tounge out. 'Ok, you got me there, but we really should go to sleep now, we both have big plans tomorrow afterall,' Peeta says, through a yawn. Katniss nods sleepily as he turns off the bedside lamp & the two cuddle up beneath the covers.

'I guess waiting for them here isn't really the worst thing in the world,' Katniss admits. '& why is that sweetheart?' Ask Peeta, curious. 'Back....before there was no guarantees, everything....so rushed & fragile, so likley to go wrong'. She says, starting to sweat. 'Ah huh' agrees Peeta patiently. 'But here it's' she stops. 'Different?' he asks gently. Katniss nods aggressively into his chest, wrinkly hands suddenly gripping one of his dad's old shirts he'd decided to wear tonight. 'We've got forever now right?', she whispers, like a kid who's scared their wish won't come true. ''That's real ok, please believe that," Peeta assures her as he strokes her back, leaning down to kiss her as soon as she lifts her face from his chest.

When Buttercup next wakes, it's to his parents holding hands & smiling as they dream of good things to come.

#the hunger games #thg #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #everlark #post mockingjay #i kept it vauge as I'm not religious & non of the characters canonically are #as relgion isn't really a thing in the thg universe #i tried my best to include certain characters that i know are important but it's kind of hard because i haven't read or watched tbosbas yet #I've had this idea for a while but I probably won't get round to making a proper draft yet because my mum died very rescently #so I'm kind of busy dealing with that #but i thought I'd post this now as it's been circling my brain for ages #& i thought it might be therapeutic #also I'm more of an ideas girl than a prose girl #but if any talented writers wanna take stab at this then please let me know #also as we're talking about the afterlife here i decided that things like time/age & so on dosn't really work like they do on earth #its very emotion based #like depending on the age you died your apprence can change if you happen to be feeling younger #& even if you look “old” you won't have any of the physical pains that come with that #the same with disabilities #if your fine with your disability & it has no truma attached to it then you'll still have it in the afterlife #& if not then you wake up without them #i have headcannons of where other characters spend a lot of their time in the afterlife but that's for another time i guess #buttercup #thg series #tbosbas #odesta #finnick odair #annie cresta #i went with the theory that katniss is related to maude instead of lucy i hope that came across

14 notes · View notes

flowerflowerflo · 1 month

Text

to everyone i've ever hurt, im sorry. to everyone i've ever came across as clingy or attention seeking or rude or selfish or anything like that, i'm sorry. i feel so much its hard to manage and i genuinely mean every word i say, even when i slip up or make mistakes. im trying so hard to be better and im trying my best.

and to everyone who's ever hurt me, i forgive you, but still fuck you loser‼️🩷ur loss bae

#girlblogging #this was fun #this was quite therapeutic to write honestly #ive been so insecure lately about what people think of me and peoples opinions #i literally had a nightmare about it last night #i just have been really stressed lately #i literally had a panic attack about it today #but i still felt like i was attention seeking #please just know its not #and im genuinely serious when i ask people if i did anything or be upset about the littlest things #i needed to get this out of my system #i feel a lot better #to anyone who feels the same #i love you and you got this okay?#girlhood #thoughts ୨♡୧

6 notes · View notes

vernadskova · 8 months

Text

I don't want me saying I'm focused on slice of life stuff to come across as mitigating something, underpinning it as unserious... Building little characters in the setting of a war is a way for me to retell the story of people remaining human even through absurdly inhumane conditions. It's dispelling an otherwise monotone and violent shadow over a culture. I like drawing guns too but I'm obsessed with their contrast with human life... I wish I could find that essay about partisan pass-time activities again, dancing and sewing and braiding hair despite it all!

#i lost it with my old account gah #but really. what the characters im drawing up now mean to me has been on my mind non-stop i'm puzzling it together.#its therapeutic.

6 notes · View notes

corpsoir · 2 years

Note

Bog body bog fae cryptid bruno

i'm thinking more like bog body bruno being found in a thousand years still looking like he's just taking a nap in the bog!! peaceful, sleepy but content expression eternally preserved on leathery skin. very much tollund man vibes (ok tollund man probably died under pretty violent circumstances he just happens to look peaceful lol)

or like, future bog body bruno having just ended up in the bog, slowly sinking into the water in the peat moss and heather ^_^ im so normal about bogs and jjba btw can you tell.

idk i just keep thinking about him being a walking corpse for half of vento aureo and it inspires meeeeee. idk, corpses and death and stuff is very like, artistically inspiring to me, if that makes sense. theres a reason my url is what it is !!

oh and look up the tollund man and bocksten man if youre comfortable with looking at human remains btw!! the bocksten man has a really cool reconstruction made of him at the museum he's at ^_^

sorry this was such a long answer and the tags makes it longer sghjdkss

#i just. really like bogs and bog bodies #and i love making art that like.... idk makes death seem peaceful and less scary or something to dread #<- this is coming from someone who for YEARS has been so afraid of death yet here i am. studying dead people lol #its therapeutic in a way to like idk make beautiful and heartbreaking art about death #and i like combining it with the narrative of vento aureo and bruno because. i just like it #plus VA just inspires me a lot and i see so much potential for cool art with a lot of visual storytelling and symbolism in it #sorry this is such a weird thing to want to draw maybe but.#im kinda obsessing over bog bodies rn since im supposed to write my bachelors thesis on them #smilesssss so widely #ask

16 notes · View notes

weedle-testaburger · 1 year

Text

god is it a relief to not have to be the only one saying toh and su both have good endings actually

#personal crap #they do obviously but seeing other people point out pitting them against each other is bullshit #so i don't have to is very therapeutic #i will admit though... i prefer change your mind to watching and dreaming honestly #su is just really special to me #also toh had its big moment comparable to 'I've always been me' in for the future and that slapped :p

4 notes · View notes

movedtohypnocus · 1 year

Text

i have been writing for hours and i am getting very tired f u c k !

#i am. very emotionally drained today and i tbh expected writing this fic to not do me any favors #but its been weirdly therapeutic almost #damn this blue hedgehog really can sad (sad is me. im the one who made sad)#woo yeah woo ooc sonic fics ftw #postnocus #personal #neways #sorry to whoever reads this fic in the future bc fuck. 90% of it is just projecting #ok tbf #my excuse is that its post-frontiers sonic. and he is very. oh no #many thoughts #many concerns

2 notes · View notes

femmeterypolka · 2 years

Text

i hate my trich but i cant stop i can never fucking stop

#most of the time when i'm not pulling my head hair i don't really have it in me to think about it #i think my brain just refuses to let me worry about people judging my short bits and bald spots because it knows if i it did i would lose it #but still #sometimes i run my hand through my hair and my heart just fucking drops #i wish it had been properly therapeutically treated when it first showed up. a former friend of mine did that and she doesn't have it now #i guess my parents were like yeah this kid already has a lot of bad habits so this is probably just another #despite the fact that i've been biting my nails practically since my teeth grew in and touched myself inappropriately in public all the time #i never really got any help for those things other than chastising and embarrassment #its just a combination of stress and need for sensory input i think #it developed even before my anxiety got bad #my therapists think i might have adhd in addition to/instead of autism and i know need for stimulation like in general is an adhd thing #but honestly i know very little about adhd #i guess i just never assume i have it because i don't generally fit the 'hyperactivity' thing and i'm not super similar to my adhd friends #in those respects at least #god i'm going to look like shit in all my prom photos

4 notes · View notes

fangirl-dot-com · 1 month

Text

Chapter 28 - Always Bet on Red and Navy

As promised you hungry demons. But I love you all! My midterms were absolutely awful and have kind of put me back in a mindset that I have desperately tried to break out of. So, writing this was a bit therapeutic because there aren't any teachers grading this. It's just you all who take everything with such love.

So please enjoy this!

Your eyes glimmered with the reflective lights as you walked through the turnstile. This year, a white body suit was not on your body and your neck was void of an iconic red scarf. But, each breath you took filled your lungs with familiar air. The small crowds of people, who showed up early for qualifying, chanted your name with each step you took. Your eyes were squinted into half crescents by your smile. To your left, Vito was typing things on his iPad, a Bluetooth speaker in his ear as he talked.

His words were mumbled as the two of you kept walking to the garage. He looked heated as his voice began to raise. He walked right passed you and into your driver’s room. You guessed you wouldn’t be using it for a while.

A yawn escaped your lips as you looked around. Max hadn’t arrived yet, along with mostly everyone that you normally talked to. Your eyes flittered across the paddock. A light shone from the Mercedes garage. A smirk rose on your lips. You hadn’t been able to talk to Lewis for a while and you missed the Brit. You grabbed your blanket and wrapped it around your shoulders. This was nothing like Singapore where you wished you could escape the heat. Here in Vegas, you wanted to escape the cold.

You gingerly stepped into the lighted garage, feet barely making an echo. You knew where the back room was. A coffee sounded really good right now as you were fighting sleep. Your eyes widened at the sight of Lewis all bunched on a couch. You could tell that he was sound asleep, since his eyes were shut and his face looked so relaxed. You took a couple of steps and sat down next to him. When he didn’t move, you knew you were save. You watched as he shivered next to you, neck outstretched in a weird angle, resting on the back of the couch. His arms were wrapped around his torso

You lightly pouted at the sad sight. Thankfully, your blanket was big enough for two people. You lightly draped the cream colored fabric onto most of his body. You watched him unconsciously relax underneath the blanket. You quickly situated yourself next to him, and gently put your head on his shoulder.

Lewis stirred at the new weight on his left side. His eyes barely opened as he tried to blink the sleep away. His face was met with blond hair and the smell of your vanilla shampoo. He now noticed the cream blanket on him and you cuddled up close.

“Kid?”

“Shhhhh, sleep now, questions later.”

Lewis didn’t even have time to argue before he was being dragged back to sleep land. His arm rose up to lie behind your head, inevitably giving you more room under his arm. You scooched closer to the warmth of the 7-time world champion.

Toto sighed as he walked out of his office. Everything was falling quickly. When Lewis mentioned that he wanted to initiate the escape clause in his contract, Toto thought that he was going to be retiring at the end of the season after another failed attempt at the world championship. He just wasn’t expecting his star to leave him for another team. The Austrian’s hand rubbed over his forehead.

He didn’t want to think about that now. He could only focus on the next three races of the 2024. Vegas, Qatar, and Abu Dhabi was all he had left. Toto rounded the corner to the little kitchen station where their multiple coffee makers were. Nothing could beat Ferrari’s authentic Italian espresso, but hopefully a regular coffee pod could do.

What Toto didn’t expect was for you to be snuggled up to Lewis on the couch that resided there. A sad smile made its way to his face. The two of you looked so innocent together, faces void of the usual wear and tear from the life that you lived. He quickly sent a text over to Christian to let him know where you were. His phone showed that they still had a few hours left before qualification started. The team principal just knew that you were going to win this weekend. Max had done a good job, trying to get the jump on you. But, when one’s name tops the P1 spot for all of the practices, there’s no choice in fighting it.

You owned this track.

A homecoming of sorts.

Toto had barely payed any attention to you last year as you walked around in your sparkly outfit, following the reigning world champion. He knew of you. Just another name of a rookie trying to get into Formula 1. Looking back now, the Austrian wishes that he had done more to sign you.

His phone softly dinged, and his eyes adjusted to the brightness of his screen. A text from Christian let him know that Max was on the way to come get you. Inside, he truly wished that you could have maybe been what you were to Max, to Lewis. But he lost out on you and he now lost out of Lewis. His days of complete domination were over.

Toto lightly stepped closer to the sofa and crouched down. His arm extended and lightly pushed on Lewis’s shoulder. The Briton’s eyes fluttered awake as he looked around, trying to get his bearings in order. Lewis’s eyes stopped on you, who was still sound asleep. Your eyes flitted behind your eyelids.

“Should we wake her up?” Toto asked. “Max is coming to get her in a moment.”

Lewis shook his head.

“She’s dreaming.”

A soft smile formed on his face as he watched you puff air and inhale harshly sometimes. You murmured gibberish, which the Mercedes pair had a hard time trying not to laugh. Footsteps announced someone else’s presence. The duo’s head jerked in the direction and watched as Max rounded the corner.

Max froze at the sight of you snuggled into Lewis, your coveted blanket laying across yours and Lewis’s laps.

“I’m quite jealous Lewis. She rarely shares the blanket.”

Lewis’s eyebrow rose. “I just saw here sharing with Logan last race.”

Max laughed softly, still not wanting to wake you up.

“That was a different blanket. This is her Dior one. See the monogram? She doesn’t share that with anyone, not even me.”

There was humor in the Dutchman’s voice as he explained. Max took a couple of steps before stooping down. He gently picked you up in his arms. You didn’t move a muscle as he adjusted you in his grasp.

Lewis stood up and popped his joints. He took the blanket off his lap and layed it back over you. It draped weirdly across you and Max’s arms. It was silent as the three men watched you try to get closer to the warm that was Max Verstappen.

“Well, I will get her back to the garage. You two have a good night.”

After Max said that, you talked a bit loudly.

The Red Bull driver stopped in his tracks, wondering if Lewis and Toto heard.

Lewis snorted. “Was that Dutch?’

The blond nodded as he looked down at you. There was a proud smile on his face.

“I’ve been teaching her some words, but she always claims that it’s too hard. But here she is, sputtering out fluent sentences.”

Toto asked, “What did she say.”

“That’s the funny thing. She said something about a king. Must be a weird dream. She had a few weird ones the other night.”

Lewis smirked up at him. “Care to share?”

“No.”

The three laughed a bit before Max bid goodbye, complaining that his arm was falling asleep. Max brought you back to his driver’s room and layed you down on his extra couch. There was a lot of time before qualifying, so he thought he would follow suit and try to get a nap in. His thoughts melted away as soon as his head hit the pillow.

A few hours later, you and Max were woken up for qualifying. You scratched your head as you tried to remember some of the dreams you had last night. Max had told you that you were able to sputter out fluent Dutch, which then he got onto you for complaining about learning it when you were awake. Now he knew that you knew more than you were letting him know.

Thankfully, there were no loose drain holes to rip up the floors of the cars. You had easily put your car in the P1 spot, certifying your claim on this track.

Before the race, you were hunched together with Logan, Lando, and Oscar. Another one of your blankets was around everyone. Your cream Dior blanket would not have been big enough and you didn’t want it touching the dirty floor. On a small chair that sat in front of you, a computer played Cars 2.

It felt so much like déjà vu while watching it. The movie took you back to your first free practice as a rookie last year, cuddling up with Logan and Oscar on a shared chair. At least this time, the four of you had upgraded to a sofa that was dragged to the outside pit lane. The officials were going over the circuit one last time, just to make sure that it was safe to drive. The chilly air would have raised goosebumps, but the four of you were in the race suits already. The scratchy fabric combined with the fireproofs really kept you insulated. This year, they brought back the Elvis suits.

Max, Alex, Charles, and Carlos were standing off to the side, checking up on you four from time to time.

“Anyone else feel like a parent watching them?” Alex questioned out loud, leading to many groans from the group.

Max sighed, hands on his hips. “All the time. You know how many juice boxes I have to make sure I pack just in case? The answer is a lot.”

Carlos watched Lando snuggle more into the blanket and into Oscar, still trying to warm up. The Aussie just rolled his eyes, but let him snuggle anyway.

The Spaniard agreed. “Lando still has his little stuffed animal from a few years ago. Doesn’t leave or go anywhere without it.”

Alex nodded his head. “Oscar and Logan were both in my driver’s room the other day, looking so tired. Turns out, they weren’t sleeping because they watched a horror movie and were too scared to just go to bed. They’ve spent the last couple of nights in my room.”

Charles shrugged. “Yeah mate, I don’t know. Y/n is just Y/n. She’s always acted like this, with Arthur.”

Max rolled his eyes. “Surely she’s done something while being at Dams.”

The Monegasque thought for a moment, before his eyes widened.

“Ok, there was this one time that Arthur called me to their room. Dams gave them like no money and they often shared a hotel room if they could. And when I got there, they immediately through swim trunks at me. Apparently, they couldn’t go to the pool or water park without adult supervision. The worker there thought they were like younger than 18.”

The group laughed after the story, making the other group of four turn their heads.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Lando questioned, eyes still on the movie.

“Probably weird adult stuff. Like how one time Max showed up to Milton in his pajamas because he thought it was just a big debrief. No, it was actually a meeting with board members and sponsors.”

Logan started to laugh loudly at the story, a bit too tired to contain the giggles.

That made Alex look over again as he sighed.

“I’m glad Williams kept him on. He was so sure that he was going to be booted after what happened in Qatar.”

Max looked with sad eyes at the blond, who was currently in a you and Oscar sandwich.

“Are they going to be renewing his contract after this?”

Alex had a wicked grin on his face. “Mate, the kid gave Williams their first win since 2012. Of course they extended his contract.”

Carlos jutted his head. “What about you mate.”

The Thai shook his head as he lightly laughed. “Logan said he wouldn’t sign unless I got the same amount of years he did.”

Charles’s eyes widened. “Congrats mate.”

Logan had started to look over. “They must really be talking about adult stuff.”

You carefully turned his head back to the movie.

“Shhhhh, Lightning McQueen is on.”

This year, you were able to actually finish the movie instead of having to promise that you’d finish it later.

As you sat on the circuit, Mitch did a quick radio check.

“Ok kid. You ready to win Vegas?”

You shrugged in the car, even if she couldn’t see you. “I don’t know about win, but I will try my best. You know what Lego Batman says?”

Mitch rolled her eyes lovingly. “What does he say?”

“Always bet on black. But our colors aren’t black. So I’m changing the saying. Always bet on red and navy.”

“And they are ready to go. I’ll keep you updated when you need it.”

With that, Mitch let you be as you took off for the formation lap. You knew you had to keep the tyres warm. You watched in your mirrors as the cars behind you started to swerve right to left and then left to right.

However, you were doing a more subtle approach as you constantly braked hard and then accelerated hard as well. It was a trick you picked up when watching Kimi do the same.

Charles was a bit worried as he was swerving behind Max.

“Are her tyres even warming up? Oh, never mind. She’s doing what Kimi always did.”

It wasn’t long before all the cars were lined up, back in the starting positions. You watched out for the dust on the asphalt, knowing that it caused lots of troubles last year. The lights went off and you were drastically pulling ahead of the pack.

A bit into the race, you watched as your wheels smoked white as you went around a corner.

“Lock up in turn 3.”

“Copy.”

You hadn’t expected it to happen again, but it did.

“Damn it. How much are we loosing on the corners?” you questioned, trying to get your car back under control. In the mirrors you saw how Charles and Max were slowly creeping back up to you.

“Two tenths.”

You sighed angrily.

The two male drivers had caught up with you and now it was an all-out, three car battle for first. You were struggling to keep your position. You prayed and hoped that your tyres wouldn’t lock up again. But, they didn’t seem to work as they locked up again, letting Max and Charles fly past. You cursed under your breath. However, you had an idea.

“Mitch, box for hards please.”

“Are you sure?”

You smirked under your helmet. “Always bet on red and navy.”

You watched as the Red Bull and Ferrari kept going away as you pulled into the pits. If you’re breaks were going to lock up, then the stopping would cause more friction to go to the tyres. In the end, you hoped that the hard tyres would warm up quicker than if you just swerved or waited for them to warm by just driving.

At the first corner, your breaks locked up once again.

“How are the temperatures of the tyres?”

“Heating up quickly.”

The smirk returned to your face.

“Perfect.”

You were still behind Charles and Max by the time that they had done their one pitstop. They had also gone out on hard tyres. Your car was still locking up, but you made up the time since your tyres were much more hot.

It was the third to last lap when you finally made it to the males’ radars.

“How the hell did she make it this close?” Charles asked, looking in his mirrors as you kept gaining.

“Last we heard, she was locking up. Keep pushing.”

The Monegasque saw white puff out of your brakes, yet you seemed to shake it off quickly.

The last lap finally came.

You watched as your car was getting close to the two leaders. It was time for the all or nothing.

“Kid, play it safe. Lock up happens on the last corner.”

“Gotta play something.”

“Kid.”

You shut the radio off.

It was a “Never back down never what?” move time.

You turn on DRS and got side by side with Charles and Max. The two were paying so much attention to each other that they didn’t see you slip by.

If your brakes were to lock up, then you’d be sent into the barriers going 300+ k/m an hour. It would be deadly at this rate. Your heart started to pick up as you came closer to the corner. You had the outside racing line. You just had to get in front of Max and break as late as you could.

You held your breath as you finally braked.

Mitch watched with wide eyes at the pit wall.

“What is she thinking?” Christian questioned, watching as you finally braked.

Yet, your tyres never locked up.

Mitch finally got what you were saying.

“She had to win a bet.”

You wanted to cheer as you came out in front of Max in the final chicane. Max, in his car, couldn’t believe it as you slipped past to cross the line in P1.

You finally let out a deep exhale as the race completed. You pulled into Parc Ferme. You undid your steering wheel and got out. You raised your arms at the crowd before walking to your team. Helmet pats came from everyone as you made your rounds.

A soft punch landed on your arm. You turned around to see Max, faux anger in his eyes.

“What were you thinking? Braking that late with lock ups? You should have retired the death trap.”

You rolled your eyes as his over protectiveness.

“Would you have retired the car?”

The silence from the Dutchman was your answer.

“I had to bet on something. We are in Vegas after all.”

“Sure kid.”

The limo was squished with you in the middle of Max and Charles. However, this year, the three of you got to Maxsplain, Leclerify, and Y/n-strate on the way to the anticlimactic fountain show during the interviews.

Nico was the one conducting them this race. After Charles and Max gave their pieces it was your turn. You walked up to the spot with a bright smile, still feeling the high of yet another race win. Nico’s smile was a reflection of your own.

“So, Y/n, how many race wins does this make for you.”

“Three, I believe.”

“Wow, so you’ve already passed Lewis’s record for points during a rookie season, how does that make you feel?”

You thought for a moment. “Well, the points were definitely different back then, so I don’t know if it’s an good comparison. I know Lewis won four races his rookie year, but I’d be very happy with my three.”

Nico hummed. “Your race was magnificent. Want to tell us a bit about it? Especially that last overtake.”

“Well Nico,” you started, “my brakes weren’t being very lovely.”

You heard snorts from behind you from Max and Charles.

“Lock ups are always tough. I asked my engineer if I could pit for hards because if there was enough friction between my brakes stopping the wheels and then the circuit, I could heat the tyres faster. And then I kind of just went for it on the last corner. I really thought that I would lock up again and go straight into the barriers.”

The blond could only let out a strangled laugh at the thought you just full sending it without having any caution to your wellbeing. You made him glad that he retired in 2016 because he would not be able to keep a calm heart racing against rookies who only had a mindset to win.

Max snuck up behind you.

“I told her that it was stupid and that she should never do it again.”

You could only pout.

“Why?”

“Maybe so I don’t have to plan a funeral?”

“But Max, I put the fun in funeral.”

"nO!"

redbullracing has posted

redbullracing always bet on red and navy - y/n l/n, 2024

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, y/n_updates, and 1,382,309 others

y/n.nation THRID WIN THIRD WIN THIRD WIN

rookie&co the ride to the fountains with everything

leclerify_me ikr, now we have the big three: maxsplain, leclerify, and y/n-strate

box_box_express we need to call y/n the tyre whisperer along with Charles

red_bull_bros like who thinks to pit to hards and use the lock ups for benefit - she really is her own strategist

y/n.89 so glad I wasn't sprayed in the face, thank you Charlie

maxverstappen1 yeah...thanks Charlie 🙂 charles_leclerc yeah, I was aiming for your eyes, I want another win oscarpiastri GET IN LINE BEHIND THE ONES WHO HAVEN'T WON landonorris you good mate? oscarpiastri I'LL BE GOOD WHEN I GET MY OWN WIN y/n.89 chill shawty - it's coming 😌

formulala_delulu max and Charles >>>>>

author lestappen for ever formulala_delulu HUH?

mericanf1_fan wish Logan was on the podium for Vegas but I'll take p5 🦅

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 🪩 what happens in Vegas....

tagged: lilymehe and alexandrasaintmleux

liked by arthur_leclerc, lilymehe, carmenmmundt, and 1,462,923 others

y/n.nation we're not even going to talk about the third picture...

arthur_leclerc hot damn 😳

y/nxarthur bro is done hiding rookiesboyfriend FINALLY y/n.nation is he in vegas?? max&co HOLD UP

maxverstappen1 kid...

y/n.89 yes Max? maxverstappen1 want to pick up your phone? y/n.89 no. maxverstappen1 PICK UP YOUR PHONE lilymehe uh, y/n can't come to the phone right now, she'll get back to you in 3-19 business days lewishamilton I fear this is bahrain again max georgerussell63 I'M NOT EVEN THERE THIS TIME

box_box_nightmare the dress, the disco balls, the chapel, lily and alex - I fear that Vegas has taken our girl

charles_leclerc Alex, amore, please tell y/n to text Max back...I'm nervous that he's going to have an aneurism

alexandrasaintmleux Alex can't come to the phone right now, she'll get back to you in 3-19 business days charles_leclerc OH COME ON - ALEX YOU TRY NOW alex_albon I'm smarter than that (lily said that y/n is texting max now) y/n.89 snitch 😒

formula_gossip twitter is saying that y/n did NOT get married in Vegas but was picked up by a random couple to be a witness to the marriage

y/n_fan THAT WAS ME AND MY HUSBAND! leclercbros God has his favorites

formula_fan she's going to be MASSIVELY hung over tomorrow

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @fly-me-away @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @33-81 @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19 @lizzypiastri

508 notes · View notes

ithinkabouttzu · 9 months

Text

Ateez reaction to being small spoon ｡･:*˚:✧｡

genre: fluff; romance

warnings; kissing

description: The Ateez members reaction to being the small spoon while cuddling with their s/o

Hongjoong : Oh man he’s been waiting for you to bring this up to him. He’ll act nonchalant about it, like it isn’t really a big deal, “Sure I can be small spoon” But the moment he does oml. He’ll get so clingy and babyish with you. He loves feeling your arms around him and it’s just a place where he can let go of all kinds of stress and worries. He just feels so safe and comfortable that he almost immediately falls asleep in ur arms.

Seonghwa: He gets so flustered when you ask him if he wants to be small spoon. Like there’s nothing wrong with it or anything he just gets so shy when he thinks about you holding him :( It’s so cute, he will make sure to grab your hand and hold it in his while you guys cuddle 😭 It becomes routine, especially after he has a bad day, like he doesn’t have to say anything, just ask for cuddles is enough for you to get the message, feeling you around him is just so comforting :((

Yunho : He is quick to agree to it, finding the closest spot in the house for you guys to cuddle on, and making himself comfortable. He’s just a gentle giant who loves a good cuddle session every once and while. He has a huge smile on his face the whole time, and don’t forget how he will tell you how much he loves you while you’re cuddling him. You guys would be watching a movie, and then all of a sudden you’d hear his soft snores and you’re heart would melt, he gets so sleepy when he’s cuddling with you it’s so cute :’)

Yeosang : When you bring up wanting to be big spoon, this sweet boy would make out a whole pallet in the living room for you guys. Like a whole little movie theater, snacks, blankets, you’re favorite food, he has it all set out, and when you guys turn on the movie he immediately just turns his back to you, waiting to be cuddled and it’s like the cutest thing ever. He’ll tell you how much he likes it when the movie ends and it becomes an automatic cuddle position for you guys in the future.

San : Ohh I can’t even tell you how baby he gets when you are big spoon, he’ll whine and tell you to get closer even though it’s physically impossible to get any closer. “cmonnn y/n I barely feel you, wrap your arms around me at leastttt” He just can’t help himself when you guys are cuddling, it’s his time to be a lil baby and just enjoy your presence. He loves being small spoon on nights where he can’t get much sleep, like he’ll ask for cuddles in his sleepy voice it’s so cute. He goes to bed almost instantly when you hold him.

Mingi: Ahhhh he loves it so much l, like he’s just so precious to you. “Y/n, you’re so soft, let’s just stay like this forever” 😫, he really likes when you give him cuddles after a tough day. Its like right when he sees you all he can do is run into your arms and ask if you want to cuddle, in hopes that you say yes. He is so grateful for you and truly loves you, so anytime where he just gets to be close to you is the best. When he gets sleepy in your arms all he can do is repeat how much he loves you until he falls asleep :(((

Wooyoung: he gets so mad if you try to get up at all 😭, “Don’t leaveee” He’d get so whiny and you’d just have to tell him you needed to go to the bathroom but he’d still be pouty about it oml. Calls himself a “professional cuddler” LOLL, but in all seriousness, he finds so much peace in your arms, like every headache goes away with you, so just being embraced by you is probably the best thing ever. Only problem is that he’ll be clingy for the rest of the time you guys cuddle.

Jongho: It’s so calming cuddling him, it’s probably more therapeutic for you then him. Like he’s just so soft and cuddly ughhhh. Loves to bring the closest hand of yours up to his lips and place soft kisses on them and just caress it until he gets sleepy. Usually you guys are pretty quiet when cuddling. It’s just time where you guys can enjoy eachothers presence and relax in it in peace. Usually you guys cuddle before bed, just holding him before he falls asleep, or until you fall sleep, and then he’ll switch with you and be big spoon.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

A/n: I hope you guys liked this! Make sure to request more Ateez stuff if you enjoyed! Also likes and reblogs are appreciated always ;)

2K notes · View notes

i-cant-sing · 10 months

Note

PLS PLS WRITE THE PLATONIC YANDERE MIGUEL OHARA FIC IM BEGGINF 🙏🙏🙏🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️WE NEED MORE PLATONIC FICS OF THIS MAN

(Thank you for reading this and have a great day!!)

I definitely see dad Miguel treating reader like a child, no matter what age you are. You could be a strong, independent woman, and to Miguel... you're a baby🥺 Everytime you get frustrated when he tells you no, or doesn't allow you to do what you want, he thinks you look absolutely adorable, your brows furrowed and your nostrils flared, and Miguel just has to just lean down to your level and you think that he's gonna offer you an explanation and in his mind, he does, but all he really says is-

"I know what's best for you, mija."

And if you dare to say "you're not my dad!", he won't say anything because yeah, you're right, but he will stare at you intimidatingly until you either take your words back or change the topic.

I think Miguel is not someone who talks much (but he still expects you to converse with him regularly) and so when he doesn't wanna argue with you, he may or may not shoot a web to seal your lips shut, just so that you give him enough time to explain (which again he doesnt), but he does use this time to tell you that you're grounded and then again, uses his strength against you to pick you up like a little bratty kitten and drop you back to your room.

I also think that Miguel definitely sees you as this helpless creature that would absolutely DIE without him. It doesn't matter if you're a spider-person like him, no. To him, you're just a frail kitten that needs papa Miguel's help to shelter her from the pouring rain and bubble wrap you and cuddle you and just- protect you from this all too harsh world.

And you could be trying to break free from his grasp, going of about how he didnt need you to pull you from your universe, how you had your life under control and what not, and Miguel would just sigh and shake his head and mutter "Teenagers🙄" EVEN IF YOU'RE AN ADULT.

Miguel isnt someone who talks about his feelings, definitely not at first, he just bottles everything up until the lid pops off and someone else has to face his fury. BUT that doesn't he doesn't expect you to talk about yours. He's super observant so the moment he notices the slightest change in your mood, or the way you breathe, oh he's bugging you to tell him whats wrong. I mean he's breathing down your neck, which as you already know isnt great because he is the only person you're allowed to talk to (minus Peter B Parker and Mayday), and eventually, he may even tie you upside down with his web to make you talk. And he's just nodding and offering up solutions/therapeutic advices (not really, they're just compromises) while you're getting blood rush from hanging off the ceiling for so long.

Also going back to the "you're not my dad!" thing, I think if you say it enough times, it does start to hurt him and eventually he reaches a breaking point where he does end up getting mad and bares his teeth at you as he yells "I AM, NOW! AND IF YOU DON'T START LISTENING TO ME MIJA, YOU WILL REGRET IT! NOW, MARCH OFF TO YOUR ROOM!" And sure, you get spooked enough to run off, but not before you yell like a very cliche, angsty teen "I hate you!" and you slam your door close before he could scold you again. He still comes right up to your door, probably to ground you even more, but he doesnt have the heart to open the door when he hears your sobs. Damn, now you just broke his heart. So, Miguel leaves, deciding its best that you two get some space to cool off.

Now I see Miguel as the type of dad who doesnt really apologise (mostly because he doesn't feel like he's done anything wrong) but instead offers a parley or a white flag of sorts in the form of food (like some cut up fruits and veggies, or even your fav takeout) and sure, his heart is still heavy with guilt, even more so when he sees your swollen red eyes indicating how you've been crying for days, so he clears his throat, maybe shifts in his seat a little and asks about your day or something random, heartbreak intensifying 100X when you refuse to talk to him, making him resort to something thats... uncomfortable for you both.

A hug.

I mean this has to be the most awkward hug in history, because Miguel just swoops you up and places you in his lap, pulling you to his chest and telling you that he's not letting go until you talk. STILL NOT APOLOGISING, I mean there is a greater likelihood that you may end up apologising to him but Miguel sure as hell isnt saying the word "sorry" (unless you're dead, specifically if u die in his arms hehe).

#yandere miguel x reader #yandere spiderverse #yandere miguel o'hara #yandere atsv #yandere x reader #platonic miguel #miguel x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel x you #spiderman 2099 #spiderman atsv #platonic yanderes #platonic

1K notes · View notes

eyebagshawty · 3 months

Note

Hey, I really like your works! I wondered if you could make something about suicidal reader and astarion, gale, halsin and anyone you feel like.

But only if you're comfortable with it. Some general hurt/comfort would be ok. Best inspiration 💛

Blurbs for Male Companions Comforting a Suicidal Tav

Pairings: Astarion, Gale, Halsin, Wyll

Warnings/Tags: some canon typical violence, suicidal thoughts/ideation, suicide attempt, angst, comfort, some are durge Tav, probably a dead dove do not eat situation

A/N: As someone who struggles with this type of thing daily, I really enjoyed expressing my interpretation of this; it was therapeutic in a way. These are blurbs, so it may not be as developed as I would like, but I hope you guys like it! Let me know if you want a part two with the ladies :)

Astarion

Marcus had kidnapped Isabelle. The sweet cleric had welcomed your party into the arms of Last Light Inn, and somehow you were too weak to save her. It was your fault.

Your. Fault.

Astarion had comforted you after, saying you couldn’t have known you would need every last bit of your magic to give your help. You couldn’t have known you would need to rest. It was just as much of a surprise to him, to Shadowheart, to Karlach. But the more you stare at Nettie’s wyvern toxin — more of a keepsake at this point than a tool for battle — the more you decide you should’ve known. Jaheira’s expression after Last Light had fallen, it’s burned into your memory. You had promised her your only intention was good, but there was still something in her eyes that showed blame.

As you watch your companions move around camp and settle next to the fire, your left hand subconsciously lifts your dagger from its holster; your right hand coming up to your mouth to open the seal of the wyvern toxin. Where could you even go from here? There was no moon lantern, but no reason to go back. You don’t even have anywhere to go back to if you think about it.

You really are a monster, the tadpole your own scarlet letter. The dagger is slathered with the wyvern toxin, and as you smile at your lover from across camp the dagger makes a shallow slice into your thigh just out of sight.

“I think I’m gonna head to bed guys, we’ve got a lot to plan tomorrow about where to go from here,” you mumble, your eyes slightly glazed from the poison entering your system. Your companions nod in agreement, each one heading to their tent to prepare for bed. Astarion, however, watches you. His brow furrows, and he’s about to offer for you to sleep in his tent again, but you’re already in front of him. “Hello love, I know it’s a bit early into, well, us. But I was wondering if I could sleep with you tonight.”

Astarion gently takes your hand in his and kisses your knuckles. “Of course my sweet,” he whispers. But the closer you get to him, the weirder you smell. He can smell the familiar bouquet of your blood, just a trace of it, but there is a sour note in there. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” As he looks back up to your eyes you let out a sob you’d been holding since earlier that day. His eyes widen; he isn’t good at comfort but for you he can try. “Darling what’s wrong?” He prods, needing to help you in your state.

You feel you can’t verbalize it, so your tadpole nuzzles up to his, asking for entrance. He accepts, and the images of your actions, your thoughts, your feelings flood into his mind. After the connection breaks you crumple to the ground, the poison entering the later stages.

Astarion’s thoughts immediately clear as he stares down at you in horror. He gathers your body into his arms and runs to Shadowheart, your seemingly now small and delicate form writhing within them. Shadowheart stands as she sees him running. “What happened Astarion?” She sternly quips, her eyes softening at the sight of you.

“They… it was one of those winged horrors. It poisoned them. Please help them. Please.” Astarion looks down at your eyes as they twitch and gaze blankly towards the sky. Shadowheart eases an antidote and a greater health potion into your mouth. Once you have your faculties about you once more, you lean your face into Astarion’s chest and weep. “Shh my love, let’s get you to bed.”

He lays you down gently to the various pillows in his tent, his every vein screaming to run. He isn’t ready for this kind of care and work a relationship requires. What am I thinking? It’s Tav, not some sorry bloke from a tavern. Get yourself together.

“I’m sorry. That was a pathetic idea for me to have, I know you might not want to explore this any further and I’ll still help you with-“

“Don’t be ridiculous, darling,” he mutters as he strokes your cheek with his fingers. “I’ve been right where you are before. Nowhere to go further but nothing to go back to, hmm?” You nod and he gives you a sad smile. “I find that I’m more happy than ever to be alive right now. Well, unalive but that’s no matter. I have you. We will find a way to get that damned moon lantern. I’ll bite everyone in this camp to take a break for a day. Whatever you need. I’m here and I… I love you.” He definitely didn’t think of saying the L word now of all times, but as a surprise to him it feels perfectly right.

“I love you too. Please just hold me.”

And so he does.

Gale

As you wake to the blinding light of the sun, restraints tug at your wrists. The memories of the last night come flooding back into you. The fear in Gale’s eyes as you bit at him that he had tried to hide, the way you kept failing to break through the urges to speak to him. He was so sweet to you. He didn’t deserve it. You love him.

“Glad to have you back with us my love,” Gale whispers into your ear as he frees your wrists and ankles from the restraints. He helps you to your feet and leads you to the fire. “Breakfast is ready. You told me your favorite is an omelet with bacon and some tea?”

“Yes, but you didn’t have to do this for me. I was being dreadful to you,” you mutter, looking down at the food.

“Of course I did. Our love knows no bounds, right? Now, eat. Baldur and his gate are waiting for us.” He kisses your head and you force a smile, shoving the food into your mouth as if you aren’t sick to your stomach with yourself.

The fight in the astral prism had put everyone off kilter. When you had found out the protector in your dreams, the person you needed to trust with your life, was a mindflayer, you only wanted rip each tentacle off its face and eat them as it watched. You did trust it. You were just so deplorable you thought its intestines would look beautiful around its neck to hang outside of your tent as decoration.

You can’t stand yourself anymore. Not just your actions, but your body. The urges make your body hurt, make your head pound and your stomach wretch. You never see a person in the mirror, you see a diseased sack of flesh squealing to be kept alive.

Gale holds you in his lap, leaving soft kisses on your neck as he reads one of his unusually large tomes. You feel disgusting. You will never deserve something nice like this. “I’m going to go see if I can spot the city from that building over there love,” you whisper as you kiss his cheeks and stand up, your stomach twisting as he gazes at you with loving eyes. He can’t love this, can he?

“Do you want me to tag along? I love a good tower as much as the next wizard,” he asks softly as he rubs your sides with his warm hands. You shake your head and force another smile. His brow lightly furrows but he shakes it off and presses a kiss to your lips in parting.

You find yourself sitting on the edge of the tower roof overlooking all of Baldur’s Gate. It has been a couple of hours, and you decide you don’t want to know any more about Orin or the makings of the absolute. Something in your mind tells you it will be the end of a lot of things if you find out. You shakily stand, letting out a ragged breath as pebbles skitter off the edge from under your feet. You close your eyes, exhale, and lean forward, when you fly through the mist into Gale’s tent. You let out a broken cry as warm and strong arms wrap around you, smelling of parchment and tea leaves.

“My love, I’ve felt the immanence of our situation for a while, and when Mystra abandoned me I thought I was as good as a newborn gnoll, destined for nothing but madness. But darling, what were you thinking?” He mutters into your hair.

“The urges won’t- nothing will stop. At my core I’m evil, something to be exhausted. I can’t-“

“Tav, I wouldn’t be as in love with you as I am if these things you said about yourself were true. I would give up my tressym to Astarion if it meant I could relieve any of your pain. Don’t tell her I said that though, Tara would never let me hear the end of it.” You let out a quiet chuckle, his dry humor always helping. “Now let’s sleep, no matter what this packed and unforgiving city does to us we will get through it together.”

“I love you, please, please don’t leave.”

“I would never dream of it.”

Halsin

Orin has captured Gale, and you feel helpless. Did you really not know your friend well enough to see that a shapeshifter was in his place? You have known him for months at this point. And yet, it was your fault for not checking in with him. For getting in that petty fight over the crown of Karsus that made you both ignore each other.

As you and your party trudge once again through the sewers, Astarion and Shadowheart both bombard you with questions about their personal needs within the city.

“Shadowheart, I understand we need to go to the House of Grief but Gale could quite literally be dead right now,” you assert softly, trying to show that she means just as much to you.

“Ugh, Gale. Of all times we have to be in a pickle it has to be over him and right now,” Astarion mutters to himself. You try to push down your frustration but the smirk on his face pushes you over the edge combined with his next words, “You’re the one that’s supposed to be making the rounds, darling. I can take Shadowheart to the house, and you and bear boy can find the bootmuncher.”

As shameful as it is for you, tears burst from your eyes as anger and anxiety take over. “So go. I don’t care anymore since you have never gone out of your way for us. I… fuck!” You slam your sword onto the ground and walk yourself back to cool off.

As Astarion builds up his retort, hurt and defensiveness flashing across his expression, Halsin steps in front of you protectively. “Calm down, Astarion. This does not need to be a fight. Let’s just break for the day. Come, my heart.” As he takes your hand comfortingly in his, you feel a gnawing dread seeping into your bones. This was all your fault, and you keep burning bridges with people you care for and you don’t know how to stop.

At the end of the day you find yourself in the middle of the woods, further from camp than Halsin liked, but it was your privacy; you asked for it and he would respect it. You stared down at your sword, your hands jaunting out to hold it at an awkward angle towards your chest. It had been like this for around an hour; you couldn’t even do this correctly, thinking about how everyone would grimace if they found you like this . Fuck it.

As the knife glides through your padded armor, a large hand places itself on your shoulder. It’s warm, and it smells like herbs and cinnamon. “My heart, please. This is not the way. We’ve come so far on this journey, together, and almost nothing has ever gone wrong. Silvanus guide me, please speak. I need to hear that you are okay,” Halsin chokes out, his voice thick with concern.

“It’s just… I would have known if Gale was acting weird. If I hadn’t pushed him away. I’m doing the same to Astarion, I’ll do it to all of them. When someone goes Illithid it will be on me. Hells we’re taking a break and he could be anywhere.”

“As much as we all love you little one, there is no leader. Nobody could have seen that coming. I had choice words with Astarion, and he would love to speak with you. Everything is handled, I just need you to understand that we can take the weight off of your shoulders occasionally. I love you with everything inside of me. Please know that you are loved.”

The sword clatters to the dirt, and Halsin brings you into his arms; a bear hug in every sense of the term. “I guess I will need Astarion to sew this back up,” you mutter, finger the frayed threads above your heart.

“That sounds like a great idea, little one. I’ll put on some tea for when you’re done.” He kisses your head and walks you back to camp, his arms never leaving your waist.

After a cathartic conversation with your resident vampire, a big brown cave bear awaits you in your tent with blankets and tea.

Wyll

On the dock overlooking the Chionthar, a blade glares up at you from your worn fingers. The Netherbrain is dead, your friends are free from the things that bind them, but you don’t know if it’s the same for you. Nobody forced you to create the Illithid plot with Enver Gortash, nobody forced you to kill Alfira. Her face will haunt you forever, what you did to her in a cold sweat during the middle of the night.

Sure, you had given up Bhaal’s inheritance, but it was still your skin that was covered in blood. It was still your face that bit and spit at the urge’s victims. It was with your eyes that you looked down at Alfira’s cold and eviscerated body. Wither’s had resurrected you in the temple, but you still felt shame creep into your veins. You weren’t a new person, you just forgot.

You saw Wyll hugging Karlach, her new Illithid form unusual but still distinctly her. You want to be with him, you need him like breathing, but the guilt and regret is gnawing at your flesh like a newborn gnoll. Maybe he would be better off taking his role as grand duke by himself, the whole city would whisper of the mad adventurer that had to fight for forgiveness to their complicit nature in the plot. As the blade begins to take its final drink from your wrist, Wyll looks up and shouts your name.

An eldritch blast knocks the blade into the sea, and warm hands wrap gently around your wrist, and a handkerchief is pressed to the small nick. He smells sulfuric but sweet like cinnamon apples as he presses a worry-filled kiss to your head. It comforts you but it shouldn’t; you don’t deserve this. “My love, what is wrong? The netherbrain has fallen, Karlach lives, what could trouble you this much?” He whispers into your ear, making sure the others know this interaction is private.

“I can’t live with myself. I may have forgotten a good extent of my past, but I remember everything from that point on the nautiloid onward clear as a whistle. It’s too much to act like I’m this hero,” you whisper back, tears streaming down your cheeks.

Wyll lifts up your left hand, a ring glinting in the morning sun. He kisses the knuckle wearing it, and looks up into your eyes with a bittersweet smile. “I did not choose you to be the love of my life, my sun and stars, because I thought you were evil my love,” he kisses your cheeks and puts his forehead to yours. “That wasn’t the you I see before me, this wonderful creature who sees past my horns, past Astarion’s vampirism, past Gale’s orb godssakes,” he chuckles and you let out a quiet laugh.

“I just don’t want to be that again. Ever again,” you whisper as you glance at your joined hands. Wyll brings a hand to your cheek and kisses your lips with a tender touch.

“It will take time. Just like I have newfound bumps in weird places, I need to get used to those. It’s being human. Now come with me, future Ravengard, we have beers to slam with our friends.”

He helps you up, and pulls you into the tightest hug as if you could disappear. You walk into the brightening dawn to the Elfsong Tavern, making sure tease him about becoming the grand duke the entire way.

#fanfic #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin #bg3 romance #gale dekarios #gale x reader #halsin x reader #halsin #wyll x reader #wyll ravengard #18+ content #please read tags #angst

393 notes · View notes

xervn · 1 month

Text

like a french girl 🎨

part 3 - french girl | art major ellie x dance major reader

last chapter | next chapter

ao3 link

summary: ellie had been struggling with finding the perfect model for her art final. that was until she saw you.

18+ MDNI | 3.8k words | slow burn(?), mutual pining, loser ellie, recreational drug use (weed)

a/n: this took so long because im an intp AND a taurus *makes excuses for myself* also tysm to everyone who commented on the last chapter ur amazing and ily ♥

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Ellie’s in nothing but her underwear, legs criss-crossed on her navy comforter; holding a joint between her lips as she tunes the strings of her maple wood guitar. It’s a lazy Saturday, the one day out of seven where Ellie isn’t constantly tormented by homework and art projects.

These days are practically therapeutic for her. Being able to strum her fingers against the nylon strings and relish in the relaxing, skunky smell of cannabis can fix all of her problems. Minus one, of course: getting to know you better.

For now, she’s at peace with doing nothing, that is until a loud ding goes off and the brightness of her phone flashbangs her otherwise dim-lit room. She scowls, exhaling a puff from her lungs as she reaches over for the device. Ellie has friends, but she’s no social butterfly. Her phone is usually dry, especially on weekends. Jesse is definitely with Dina, so unless it's serious; there’s no reason for her to be getting a text.

Naturally, her scowl deepens when she reads that the number is unknown.

???: hii

ellie: wrong number

She opts to toss her phone away, but the next message throws her off track.

you: it’s — !

Ellie’s eyes widen at her screen like your name is a hypnotic spiral. She can feel her heart swelling well within her chest, and she’s left wondering if the weed she’s smoking is laced or if she somehow manifested you. Ellie quickly transfers her blunt in one hand and her phone in the other, straining her thumb trying to type as fast as she can to you.

ellie: oh hdy!

ellie: hey*

you: dina gave me ur number, i hope that’s okay

ellie: yeah ofc it is :-)

ellie: i was planning on giving it to you

Ellie typed that half-lie slowly, weighing how true it really was as she pressed send. It was on her plan of things she’d like to do before dying, but even then she doesn’t think she would ever gain the courage.

you: oh thank god

you: i thought i might be intruding 🙁

ellie: never, what’s up?

you: can i ask you something?

ellie: yes of course aks me anythign

ellie: ask* anything* shut sorry

ellie: SHIT

you: lmao are you okay??

ellie: yeah… forget about that, ask away

you: well i was wondering if you could help me study? im failing my anatomy class..

you: if u can’t it’s okay though!

A sheepish grin spreads across Ellie’s face, as she thinks about all the scenarios that could lead to. To think she’d finally have an excuse to see you after weeks of hoping, of praying for the opportunity. You asked her for help instead of taking other options, especially considering how much easier it would’ve been for you to.

ellie: its no problem, id be glad to help :-)

you: really?? ur a lifesaver els, tysmm

you: when are you free?

ellie: Right now.

ellie: or whenever .

you: let’s meet at the library in 20?

Almost instantly, Ellie’s excitement warps into anxiety. She wasn’t particularly ready to see you and twenty minutes doesn’t seem like nearly enough time to get her shit together. She thought you’d ignore her impulsive desperation of “right now” and set plans for a later date, but, alas, you didn’t.

Ellie rubs her forehead with her blunt holding hand, trying to scratch the itch of her worries away with just her pinky and thumb. Despite her increasing knowledge of you over the past few weeks, she was still incredibly nervous to be around you.

Ellie takes one final hit of her joint before snuffing it out in a doob tube on her nightstand. She sets her guitar against her bed and nearly falls off trying to get up in a rush, even though she has more than enough time to get ready.

She stumbles around the room to put something on, settling with a gray hoodie and a pair of jeans. She attempts to keep her balance as she hastily shoves each leg through her pants; simultaneously eyeing around her room in an attempt to remember where exactly she put her anatomy textbooks.

Ellie hears a familiar ding from her bed and she snaps towards it to pick up her phone, peering at the screen.

you: ellie?

Ellie curses under her breath, scolding herself for forgetting to text you back. She taps on the keyboard, quickly making sure she doesn’t manage another typo before hitting send.

ellie: sorry! yeah i’ll see you in twenty!

you: awesome :)

—

You weren’t ready to see Ellie either, you figured, since it took you hours to actually text her. You made up far-fetched scenarios with the worst outcomes; the one where she immediately deletes your number tormented you for quite a while. Now you’re trudging across campus to meet her, internally at war with your mixed emotions. On one hand you get to hang out with a cute girl and on the other you’re hanging out with a really cute girl. Alone. Zero friends around.

There’s a chance you two might not have anything to talk about. You guys are only mutual friends after all. Even if you guys somehow manage to start a conversation, what if she comes to not like you by the end of it, or vice versa? Not to mention the window incident you’re both hoping the other forgot.

You hesitate in your steps as you reach the library doors. It’d only take a few seconds to spin around and walk back, but how could you leave her there? You thoughtlessly chew on your lip, eyes worriedly shifting around.

You can’t recall any moment you’ve been so anxious about meeting up with a girl before. Not once, not even in a distant memory. You’ve always been the bolder one in your endeavors. The fact that Ellie is the only girl to make you feel this way has to mean something. You slowly pace in front of the doors in an attempt to dissipate your worries, nodding to your inner thoughts and ignoring the probable concerned stares in the distance. You’re the one who invited her, so you’re gonna stick it the fuck through. You couldn’t bail before testing the waters, you’d never forgive yourself.

So you barge into the building, letting the cool air hit your face from the swinging doors; granting you a waft of leather and drying ink. The building was decorated with freakishly tall dark wood bookshelves; so high, there were beige ladders in place to reach the top shelves. As expected, it was quiet, empty and definitely overfunded. Studying has never been your forte and you’ve never stepped in this building; save for a few dance history books. You wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case for everyone else. Thankfully, one pro definitely outweighs those cons. Ellie was going to help you study. Ellie is the reason you’re here at all.

You tidy up your outfit that you diligently put together and roam farther into the library, trying to hold down a smile that’s impossible to hold down. In fact, it completely takes over your face. You need to simmer down your giddiness before you start skipping around. You purse your lips and briefly steady your eyes on the dark, olive carpeted floor ahead of you.

You head towards the front desk that’s just a sunken step away with the intention of asking for directions to the study hall. An older lady is sitting there, glowering with obvious annoyance definitely because of your loud entry. It’s been ages since you’ve been in the library— your failing grade proves that— and clearly you’ve forgotten all the rules with it.

A flash of guilt passes through you and you force an apologetic smile. She returns it with a grunt and you immediately redirect yourself further into the library; aimlessly in search for the study hall.

You’ve been walking around for a solid five minutes and you swear you’ve passed the same fantasy section a million times now. It’d be smart to text Ellie and tell her you’ll be late, but your ego won’t let you.

The looming large, ornate bookshelves certainly don’t make it any easier for you to navigate around.

The question of why the school spent so much money on all this occupies your mind as you venture further. You make a turn around a corner you’ve definitely made before, and you sigh at the familiarity of the area in front of you.

You keep pressing forward anyway, hoping you can manage a new route this time around.

Before you can make another turn, you’re interrupted by drowned footsteps behind you blending into your own, followed by a tap on your shoulder. You flinch at the sudden touch, sharply turning around only to see Ellie looking at you with a downward smile.

“Lost?” She sarcastically presumes, her viridescent eyes taking in your shocked yet relieved expression.

You fiddle with the straps of your backpack between your fingers, shyly glancing around you. “No, I was just… looking for more textbooks.” You nod sagely at your own words, as if you’re trying to convince yourself too.

“Oh? Next to—“ The auburn-haired girl squints at the shelf behind you before adorning a wide grin, “Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets?”

Your brows raise and you follow her eyes onto the obviously fiction-filled bookcase. “Uh, yeah? I’ve got Professor Snape at four.”

Ellie narrows her eyes at you in amused disbelief, trying not to laugh at your adorably dorky excuse.

Dramatically sighing in defeat, “Fuck, okay, you got me.” You say lowly, a bashful smile developing on your lips.

“You passed the study hall five times. I counted.” Ellie goads.

You partially suppress your laugh, mindlessly giving her arm a light smack. “Oh, my god. Don’t tell me that!”

She dotes on your laughter and your touch; whether it was intentional or not. Either way, she’s feeling good about herself now and her previous worries about this encounter floated away, and you could safely say the same.

“It’s a good book though, we can go back and get it. No need to be shy about it.” Ellie quips.

“Shush!”

—

With Ellie as your guide, the trip to the study hall was much easier than you made it out to be. You recognized the big glass windows you passed by often and when you stepped into it, you flushed with embarrassment. It was a direct contrast to the old-fashioned, mahogany colored library you’d been meandering around.

Ellie really could’ve counted the times you walked by, and she really did. The first time, she thought you must’ve seen a friend and left to catch up with them. However, the second time around she realized you might be lost.

She was going to text you and tell you to turn around, but she thought it was cute seeing you walk in circles, ignoring literally every sign in your way. By the fourth time, she could tell you thought you were in a time loop and she found it fucking hilarious. Someone like you, seemingly exceptional in everything but directions. The fifth time came and, of course, she decided she was being cruel and had to come help you herself.

Ellie leads you to the desk where she’s set camp at, and the amount of books and paperwork makes you dizzy. “Jesus, Els. Are you teaching me the entire course?”

She takes a seat before giving you an answer, “Well.. That depends on how bad you’re failing.”

You take a seat across from her, setting your backpack on the floor before resting your forearms on the oak table. “My teacher said I was dumb as fuck and essentially called me a homophobic slur.” You’re exaggerating, obviously, but that was exactly what it felt like.

Ellie scoffs out a sound, unsure of whether to laugh or be offended for you. “Damn... It’s Bill, isn’t it? God, that guy is a fuckin’ prick.” She questions, clearly unsurprised by his actions.

You sit upright in your chair, relief shining through your words, “Yes! Is that his thing?”

Ellie casually leans back, thinking back to when she was a student of his. “Oh, yeah. He’s a blunt guy, shitty filter,” She continues, and somehow you’re both meeting each other’s looks, “But he’s fair with his grades, n’ I know it doesn’t make it any better, but he has a husband. He’s just… old.. and grumpy.”

You try to consider that he is letting you retake a major grade. You guess you could appreciate that somewhat. “True... still, the comment was unprovoked. You must know him well though?”

“Yeah, I took his class last year. We were at each other's throats about coursework n’ shit. Really hard to reason with that guy.” Ellie purposely leaves out the part where she was being unreasonable too, but only for the sake of storytelling, of course. “Then that summer, I saw him at a family gathering.” She finishes off with a dramatic shiver in disgust and you laugh at how endearing it was.

“Anyways, his gaydar is somethin’ else. I can never tell.” She admits, carelessly waving a hand in the air. Ellie’s radar in particular is broken. Shattered, even. She can’t keep track of the amount of times she has stood in the shower, realizing a girl was flirting with her only days later.

“Even with me?”

“Even with you...” She speaks with artificial sadness and a slight sulk.

“Ouch… I’m wounded.” You fake a frown, slightly dropping your shoulders.

Ellie’s eyes fall to your nails; some suspiciously shorter than the others, and all painted in your favorite color. “But… that I know for sure, I can definitely tell.” Ellie comments.

A swarm of butterflies suddenly parade your belly, and you shine a coy smile her way. “They’re not short because of that…” Your half-hearted attempt to defend yourself drips in the lightness of your voice.

Ellie briefly raises her eyebrows with a sly smile plastered on her face, folding her arms over her chest; which, unbeknownst to you, was to shield how hard her heart was thumping. She’s shocked she hasn’t turned into a pile of mush yet, probably thanks to her smoke session earlier.

“I’m serious! I keep my hands to myself.” You continue on, putting in a little effort in your voice for your defense this time. For the most part it is true, lately your mind has been on Ellie, and Ellie only. The thought of random flings didn't excite you, but she did. However, it wasn’t not true that you’ve had a fair share of hookups. You’re in an art school, how could you not?

“C’mon, just yourself? I’m sure you've cared to share.” Ellie playfully pokes around you with her words; nonchalant and prone for a reaction.

Your jaw slightly drops, making your head tilt to the side incredulously. “Wow. What makes you think that?”

Ellie unfolds her tattooed arm to rub her palm against the back of her neck, responding unexpectedly timid, “Hey, ‘m not blind. I know you’re popular.”

You snicker at her explanation and shake your head. “They’re friends. You can be friends with girls even if you’re gay, Ellie.”

“Friends don’t touch you like that.” She notes with an uncharacteristically stern expression.

It surprises you for a second, but all it makes you wanna do is poke fun, tease her, and see where it’d go. “Like what?”

Ellie sighs, reluctantly explaining further, “Like they’ve touched you before.”

“Straight girls are touchy.” You shrug, purposefully ignoring what she tried to imply.

The way you said it so matter-of-factly makes Ellie’s eyes roll. “You know I don’t mean it like– ugh, my judgment is usually fucked up, but that? That I can tell the difference with.” Ellie states with surety.

You narrow your gaze at her, a teasing grin forming on your lips. “What are you jealous or something?”

“Of you or the girls?”

“Oh, the girls were an option?” You playfully remark, but also with honest curiosity in how she’d answer.

Ellie clears her throat and leans forward to place her textbooks into view, trying to hide the blush spreading across her features. She’s not doing a great job at it and you’d love to tease her some more, but you can settle with taking the win for now.

—

Night crept up faster than you both anticipated, the ambient sounds of paper printing and carts rolling by were no longer prevalent. The only thing filling the room is the buzz of the light fixture above and the words you two exchange. The table is cluttered with Ellie’s open notes and some textbooks with neon page markers poking out the sides. It wasn’t organized by any means, but it was a mess you both found easy to work around.

Surprisingly, Ellie is a great tutor. When she saw your paper, she didn’t make fun of you like you thought she would. Instead, she expressed how grating it is to remember all that crap and you shouldn’t give yourself a hard time over it.

To help you memorize the muscles of the body, you guys settled on one area and made up silly rhymes for it. She tried to argue that brachiosaurus was perfect for brachialis even though it didn’t even rhyme. You even gave her the chance to pick a different one, but then she said brachyceratops with a mockingly straight face and you knew she couldn’t be trusted for the task anymore.

The air between you two wasn’t stuffy or silent like you feared it’d be. Ellie made you laugh, not in the breathy forced way you’ve unknowingly gotten used to making.

She made sure you listened to her tips & tricks, made you review your mistakes so you wouldn’t repeat them again.

You hadn’t picked up your phone for anything other than to google things on the subject, and your ringer? Off. Your attention never strayed far from her. That made her undeniably nervous– sweaty, and hard for her to breathe normally, but she could acknowledge how well she was doing.

Ellie’s head is dipped down to a paper you two were working on and you’re openly ogling, wondering how she’d look in a pair of glasses. Flipping through papers, tapping the back of a pen on her inviting lips. You tell yourself you snap back to reality before your mind strays any further.

“If we keep this up, you’ll remember it all in no time” She encourages, eyes still glued on the paper. Secretly, she hopes it takes a little longer. Just a little.

“Thanks for helping me out, Els.” You say, face tilted into the palm of your hand.

Ellie looks up from the paper to give you a smile, but she doesn’t hold her gaze for long. A millisecond later and her blush would have you thinking she had a sudden, terrible fever.

“It’s no problem. It helps me out too.” Ellie points to the examples she sketched out for you with her pencil. She pauses before speaking again, trying to get rid of the sudden dryness in her mouth, “Can I ask you something?”

Studying her expectantly, you lift your head off your hand. “Yeah?”

Ellie fidgets with her pencil, trying to muster up courage. Her mouth feels dry trying to push out the words. “I’m also struggling with a class and uh,” she twirls her pencil in one hand, tucking a sliver of her hair behind her ear with the other, “I was wondering if you could be the model for my art final?” Her question came out whinier than she’d like it to, making her freckled-face wince.

You can sense how nervous she is about asking, but you can’t place your finger on why she ever would be. This is the first time anyone has ever asked you something like this, so in your mind it’s nothing but exciting, especially coming from her. You can already imagine yourself sitting prettily still while Ellie studies you and paints long, fancy strokes on a yellow canvas. “Ellie, are you kidding? I’d love to.”

Her lashes flutter in disbelief, “Really?”

“You’re helping me, so why not? It’s fair.”

“It’s kind of a weird thing to ask. I mean, we barely know each other.” Ellie murmurs, unaware that you have absolutely no idea what she’s on about.

You lift a brow at her. “We will eventually, right? What’s weird about a portrait anyways?”

“It’s not a portrait… Well, I guess it is–“ Ellie sighs into her palm, “I’m drawing you, but…” She cringes before she can finish her sentence.

“A portrait in pencil? What am l missing?” You slowly question.

“Think Titanic.” She grimaces as she waits for your reaction, trying not to bang her head on the table for picking Titanic of all movies.

“Titanic? What does that have to do with…” Your voice trails off, quieting down so you can process what Ellie said. Think Titanic. It's hard for you to connect what the 1997 romance movie had to with this, but when it connected, it connected. The infamous drawing scene was memorable. You’re in awe, not quite sure how to react.

“You don’t have to be fully… y’know..” Ellie insists.

Your face is still unreadable, as if you're lost in thought, and it’s freaking her out. Too many what-ifs are going through her head, all of them gradually getting worse the longer you stay silent. She thinks she got too close to the sun when she had more than enough warmth. She's already preparing herself for rejection, worryingly scouting your face for a hint of revulsion; however, it never comes.

“Oh. Okay.” You calmly respond with a shrug, your face still unreadable; the only difference being a light smile. You could’ve thought about it longer, but you’re so flattered Ellie wants you to pose for her that you rather worry about it later. She wants to sketch your body onto paper. Yours. It sounds vulnerable and a little nerve wracking, but she’s your friend. A friend you have a crush on, sure, but you wouldn’t want to inconvenience her over it. Plus, you owe her now. Really, you’re purely being selfless. At least that’s what you’re telling yourself.

“Okay?” Ellie repeats to make sure she was hearing things right.

“Like I said, you’re doing this for me, so I’ll do it for you.” You reassure, gesturing around to the study session laid across the table.

“Are you sure? You know I’ll still tutor you, even if you say no–”

“— Do you not want me to?” You pout your lips, hoping she hasn't changed her mind already.

“Are you shitting me? Of course I do. I just… didn’t expect you to say yes.” Ellie finally says, absolutely dumbfounded given her hand movements.

You laugh melodically, “Didn’t think that far, huh?”

“Nope.” She answers with a cute embarrassed smile, her blood rushing to her face.

Your phone buzzes, probably a text or notification. You reach out and shove a few papers to the side to get to it before taking a look, only for your eyes to be drawn to the time. “Shit. It’s late. I think the library closes soon…” You murmur regretfully, feeling all too comfortable where you were.

Ellie presses her tongue against her cheek in annoyance, upset that time dared to pass by as fast as it did. “We should get going then, I guess.” She says dejectedly, not wanting to leave you just yet.

You peep her suddenly gray aura and smile warmly towards her. “Can you walk me back to my dorms?”

She nods with subtle enthusiasm and pushes out of her seat, immediately packing all her belongings to join your side. “Yes! — I mean, sure. Yeah.”

—-

The lamp post lights are warm and waning, complimenting the shadows on both your faces. You two walk down the dark flagstone path towards the housing area, chatting about nothing. It’s nice to be able to spend a little more time with her before the night is over. Unfortunately, you guys were drawing closer and closer to your dorm and the feeling of loss came as quick as it left.

“Hey, Els?”

She glanced at you and hummed in response, giving you the signal to continue. “I was wondering if you were gonna be at some party tomorrow? Apparently Dina’s co-hosting it.”

Ellie looks at you quizzically before looking off elsewhere to think. “Why the fuck would they party on a Sunday?”

You snort out a laugh before lifting and dropping your shoulders, “I don’t know, senioritis or something. Will you come though?”

“Mhm, I’ll be there.” She smiles as she speaks, loving how your face lit up by the end of it. Ellie isn’t too fond of parties, but for you? She can make an exception.

You cheer in a whisper tone and it makes Ellie smile harder, her features creasing in adoration. You two finally approach your dorm building. You walk up a step before turning to wave goodbye. She raises a palm in return and you flash her a smile that makes her heart leap before turning into the building.

If Ellie couldn’t tell before, she’s completely enamored by you.

daily click to help palestine interested in auto-sending ceasefire emails to congress? visit this (ios)

a/n: fuck jk rowling but i rlly couldnt think of any other commonly known fantasy book :/

taglist: @bready101 @pascals-doll @macaroni676 @khai-le @pedropascalsbbg @seraphicsentences @starlight-savegery @snowy-vee @crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @a-little-bit-of-everybody @elliesactualgirlfriend

#ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #tlou2 #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x female reader #ᝰ like a french girl

212 notes · View notes

penmansparadise · 25 days

Text

Tommy Shelby ~ Dust in the Wind

*I DON'T OWN THIS GIF* *CREDIT TO GIF OWNER*

*I do not give anyone permission to repost my work in any way (translations included)*

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: Discusses infant loss/stillborn, ANGST, mild language, possibly ooc Tommy

a/n: Alright, well, it has been quite some time since I've posted on this site. First, let me get a few things out. 1) This is the most self-indulgent piece I have ever written, so if you don't want to read it, please just keep on scrolling. 2) This does not mean that I am ready to start taking requests again or that I will be regularly writing again. As stated before, this is a very self-indulgent piece because I just experienced the loss of my daughter, who was born prematurely. It has completely wrecked me, and I have just finally decided to start writing again. I am trying to navigate my loss and thought maybe writing would help. It did, and although this piece is a little darker than I usually write, it was therapeutic, and I wanted to share it because I am proud of my work. I did write it as a reader insert, but if you all read it and think it would be better as an OC story, I'll change it. Anyway, this is the first time I've ever written for Tommy, so please forgive the potential out-of-character actions he has in this story. Also, it has been a bit since I watched season 3 so forgive any mistakes. I took some liberties with the story by adding different children for Tommy and Y/N and some of the things that happened in the show. Well, I hope you enjoy this story, and would really like to know what you all think.

Y/N was no stranger to death. It was Small Heath, for goodness’ sake. Death practically ran in the water. Being deeply entrenched in the Shelby family since she was a young girl only made her acquaintance with death’s steely grip all that much closer. She had been to more than enough funerals in her 29 years of living. She was present at the cemetery when her father finally drank himself into his grave, she was there to mourn when consumption took her mother, and she showed up to support Ada when they buried Freddie. Y/N was always there when any of the Peaky boys were killed in the line of action, and she even showed up for her elderly childhood neighbor’s funeral. But this time, it was different. She wasn’t gathered in the woods on the outskirts of Small Heath to mourn for someone else. There wasn’t a stranger tucked away in the wagon standing in front of her. The Shelbys weren’t gathered to bid farewell to a distant relative or friend. The Lees weren’t generously providing this funeral for a price. No, the whole Shelby and Lee families were there for her and Tommy this time.

The heat from the flames washed over Y/N’s face, making her sweat a little, but she didn’t move. She wanted to be as close as she could possibly be. If she had it her way, she would have jumped into the wagon and let the flames swallow her whole, but Tommy’s hand tightly gripping hers anchored her to the ground. It had only been a few days. It couldn’t have been more than four, but with how time was moving, it felt like a lifetime had passed. The flames roared on, and Tommy squeezed her hand a little tighter, causing Y/N’s throat to tighten. She swallowed down the sadness trying to claw its way out of her. Y/N wasn’t going to break down in front of all these people. She didn’t want to cry at all, for that matter. It felt like it had been an endless stream of tears, and Y/N was done. If only her aching heart would catch the memo. Y/N’s eyes traveled the length of the flames until they landed on the little plaque one of the Lee boys carved for the wagon. “Lily Eleanora Shelby,” it read, and suddenly, the sadness returned with a vengeance. Y/N shut her eyes, and the events that led to this day played in her head. She was supposed to be happy. She was supposed to be full of unadulterated joy. She was supposed to be cradling her newborn baby girl. But she wasn’t. Instead, she held onto her husband’s hand like a lifeline as she watched her daughter’s wagon burn. One day. That’s all it took to completely destroy her.

Even as she stood there, watching the flames devour her daughter’s wagon, she still recounted everything she did four days ago, trying to figure out what could have possibly led to this result. Four days ago, she was a cheery 29-week pregnant woman. A stay-at-home mom who, with the help of their maid Frances, cared for her and Tommy’s three-year-old son, Benjamin. That day had started like any other. Tommy was already out, and she could hear Frances chasing Ben around his room. The little boy’s giggles echoed through the house, and she remembers smiling as she slid a hand over her round tummy. Y/N couldn’t wait for Ben to be a big brother. She got ready like any other day and eventually made her way to her son, who welcomed her presence with a hug and a kiss. The little boy rubbed her tummy, planted a chaste kiss to her navel, and smiled at her.

“I just wanted to let my little brother or sister know that I love them too, Mommy,” he had said, causing Y/N’s heart to clench. Even at three, he was a charmer, just like his father. She knelt to be at eye level with her son and lifted her hand to cradle his face.

“You’re going to be a wonderful big brother; do you know that?”

“Of course I will be, Mommy. I’ve been practicing sharing my toys with Frances and making sure I listen real good to you and daddy.” He said, standing up straighter to exhibit his full height. “Frances says I need to be a good example for the new baby, or else Santa won’t bring me any presents this year for Christmas. How outrageous is that, Mommy!?”

Y/N stifled a laugh before brushing Ben’s hair back and looking up to see Frances smirking from her spot by Ben’s block tower.

“I’m sure Santa won’t forget about you this year, honey.” She told her son. The boy gave her a toothy grin before trotting off to continue playing with his blocks.

Y/N returned to her feet and watched Ben for another minute before retreating to the new nursery. It was already put together, and she often found herself hiding away in that room. She glided her hand over the bassinet and let the soft fabric tickle her palm. The walls were already decorated with paintings of horses, some of which came from Ben, who insisted that his younger sibling have them. She sat on the rocking chair and gently rubbed her hands over her stomach, earning a little kick from her unborn child. A soft laugh fell from her lips as she looked down at her growing bump.

“Sorry to disturb you, love.” She whispered, her hands still rubbing slow circles. “Mommy just wanted to let you know she loves you very much. And so does your big brother, who is very excited to meet you.”

Another kick came.

“You’re excited to meet him, too? I’ll have to let him know.”

“Daddy loves you too, just in case Mommy forgot to mention that.” Tommy’s voice came from the doorway, causing Y/N to look up. He gave her a full smile, the one he reserved only for her and their son, and it fell over her like a warm blanket.

“Mommy was just about to get there. Had daddy not interrupted her,” she said. Tommy hummed in response as he floated across the room to kneel before her. He looked up at Y/N through his lashes and said, “Sure you were,” before removing her hands and planting a soft kiss where they had just lay.

“Daddy can’t wait to meet you,” he whispered against her stomach, his warm breath radiating throughout her body. Tommy looked up at Y/N before standing and pressing his lips to hers. When he pulled away, a smile matching his spread across her face. She was beaming. She had dreamt of being in this position for many years as a teenager, and now it was real. Thomas Shelby was hovering over her very pregnant figure in their unborn second child’s nursery. Their lively three-year-old son’s muffled laughter ricocheted off the hallway walls. It was everything she ever wanted, and she was so happy.

“What’s that look for?” Tommy asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Nothing,” she hummed, gaining a skeptical eyebrow raise from her husband. “I just love you. That’s all.”

Tommy nestled his face into the crook of her neck, peppering kisses along the exposed skin. Then he pulled back, looked into her eye, and said, “I love you more than you know, Y/N.”

He gave her one more swift kiss before standing and sauntering out of the room with a smirk. The rest of the day went by like any day usually went. She sat around and read, played with Ben, ate lunch at 1100, put Ben down for a nap at 1230, and then went back to reading. Tommy was in and out, balancing work from home and the office. She could tell that day was extra tiring from how he sighed every time he left the house. It was after Tommy left for the last time of the day that Y/N got the idea to wander down to the kitchen. When she entered, the cooks were hard at work peeling and slicing vegetables.

“Good evening, Mrs. Shelby,” the head chef began, “is there anything we can do for you, ma’am?”

Y/N clasped her hands behind her back as she rocked back and forth on her heels like a guilty toddler. “Um,” she said, “actually, yes, there is.” She stepped into the kitchen and moved her hands to rest on her stomach. “I was thinking that maybe tonight you and the rest of the staff could take the evening off and allow me to cook dinner.”

The head chef’s eyes widened at her statement. Everyone else stilled for a brief moment, waiting for him to speak. “Oh,” he stammered, “b-but, Mrs. Shelby, and please forgive me if I am overstepping, but shouldn’t you be resting instead of cooking?” His eyes dipped down to her protruding abdomen before landing back on her face.

“Resting? I rest all day. Really,” Y/N said, waving the chef’s comment off, “it would be nothing. I actually miss being in the kitchen. It’ll be nice. Therapeutic.” She couldn’t miss the wide-eyed stares from everyone in the room, but she chose to ignore them. When they didn’t move to leave, she stepped forward, placed a gentle hand on the head chef’s back, and began leading him out of the kitchen.

“Trust me,” she said, “I’ll be fine. Thank you for your concern, though.”

Once she ushered the staff out, she began working on dinner. It had been a long time since she cooked, but it came back to her like riding a bicycle. She couldn’t escape the excitement that bubbled inside of her as she fell into a groove preparing dinner for her family again. She boiled the potatoes the staff had peeled, sauteed the peppers and onions, and braised the beef that was in the refrigerator. About an hour into cooking, a dull pain emanated from her lower back and into her hips. The dull pain slowly morphed into a pressure that she just assumed was normal 29-week pregnancy symptoms. It’s just the baby getting comfortable. The baby is just moving around and pressing a little harder than usual on my cervix. She ignored the feelings and finished cooking before asking the kitchen staff for help to bring the meal into the dining room. Once the table was set, Frances went and fetched her boys, alerting them that not only had Y/N cooked dinner, but she had also served it. She greeted the boys in the doorway of the dining room and gave each a kiss before they all sat to eat. That pain returned in her lower back and hips, making it hard to get comfortable in her seat. She let out a low groan of discomfort, and Tommy placed his hand over hers to gain her attention.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his eyebrows knitted together. She swallowed another groan that threatened to come out and nodded with a strained smile. Y/N could tell that her weak answer did nothing to reassure Tommy, but he didn’t press her.

“How do you like the meal?” She asked, doing her best to not sound strained against the constant pressure she felt pulsing between her legs.

Before Tommy could answer, Ben nodded with enthusiasm and stuffed a heaping scoop of mashed potatoes into his mouth. “I love it, Mommy! This is the best dinner I’ve ever had,” he said through his mouthful of food.

Y/N smiled, but it must have looked more like a grimace because this time, Tommy stood up and moved to her side. “Y/N,” he said, placing his hands on her shoulders, “are you sure you’re okay? Should I have Frances phone the doctor?”

Y/N grabbed his hand and squeezed it as she looked up to her husband. “I’m fine, darling. I promise. Let’s just finish dinner.” She pulled his hand to her mouth and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. Then, using her head, she motioned for Tommy to sit again. He stared at her for another moment, the line on his forehead deepening, before sighing and retaking his seat. She kept her discomfort under wraps for the remainder of dinner because Tommy didn’t mention anything until after they had put Ben down for the night and were about to crawl into bed. The pressure and pain had only grown in that short time, and she was beginning to get nervous. She was sitting on the edge of their bed, eyes shut, and taking some deep breaths when Tommy’s hands landed on her thighs. She could feel him kneeling between her legs, but she didn’t open her eyes. She didn’t want to admit that her anxiety was consuming her or that the pain and pressure had turned into abdominal cramps. It wasn’t until she suddenly felt the bed beneath her sopping wet that she looked at Tommy. He looked down and saw the fluid dripping from her nightgown and their duvet before his gaze landed on her. She could see his mouth moving, but his voice was drowned out by her rapidly beating heart. Something is wrong. She thought. This shouldn’t be happening. I’m too early. Tommy pushed away the hair that had begun sticking to her sweaty forehead, and then ran out of the room. His voice was distant, but she could have sworn he said something about calling Polly and Ada. She wasn’t sure because all she could focus on was the sharp pain that was puncturing her abdomen and the immense pressure building between her legs. Before she could comprehend what was happening, Tommy scooped her up and lay her on their bed. What about the sheets? I’m going to ruin the bed.

She must have said those thoughts aloud because Tommy quickly said, “Don’t worry about the bed, love. We’ll get another one if we have to.” The pain was only getting worse, and she had to shut her eyes and bite her tongue to prevent a groan from escaping. She didn’t know how much time had passed before Polly and Ada came rushing into the room, shoving Tommy into the hallway. When it was just the three of them, Y/N finally let out a guttural moan. She didn’t remember this much pain when she gave birth to Ben. Something is wrong. Something is not right. Those words chanted in her head like a mantra. Polly set her up on her bed while Ada used a wet towel to wipe away the sweat beading on her face.

“Just breathe, Y/N,” Polly chirped soothingly in her ear. “Ada and I are here. We’re going to take care of you.”

Anxiety coursed through her veins and unfurled in her gut when the pressure between her legs began to increase. She tried to cross her legs and prevent the inevitable from happening, but Polly and Ada wouldn’t let her. Tears of pain and fear streamed down her cheeks. She wanted to scream at them to stop and let her try to stop this urge to push. But the pain and pressure were too much, and the only sound that came out of her mouth was a low groan.

She could feel Polly’s hand between her legs, and the words “crowning” and “push” floated to her ears. Ada took her hand, and Y/N tried with every fiber in her body to not push, but her body had other plans. She held her breath and begged her body to stop forcing her baby out of her, but it was too late. The pressure was building. Climbing to a peak that felt like it would rip her in half until suddenly, she felt relief. Her heavy breathing filled the room, and she waited impatiently for the tell-tale cries of her baby, but they never came. She opened her eyes and looked at Polly and then at Ada. They both just stared back at her, and Y/N knew something wasn’t right.

“Y/N,” was all Polly whispered, and she knew. The silence was deafening. She lay there, completely exposed, bleeding, and sweaty, and waited, but her baby gave her nothing. Her eyes shut and then, without any strength to stop it, let out a crushing wail. The tears overflowed, and when she opened her eyes again, she watched the door burst open and Tommy storm in. He moved over to where Polly held their baby and looked down at their motionless child.

“Why isn’t she crying?” He asked.

It was a girl. I had a baby girl. Even through her tears and sobs, she could see Tommy’s chest rising and falling at a rapid pace.

“Why isn’t she fucking crying, Pol!?” Tommy’s voice boomed through the room and mixed with her loud cries to create the saddest song. She could see the distress in the slant of his shoulders and how he ran a hurried hand through his cropped hair. He didn’t wait for anyone to answer his question before bounding across the room and landing on the floor next to her. His hands found hers, and she could feel them shaking. His lips pressed to Y/N’s forehead and cheeks, absorbing only some of the tears that continued to cascade down her face.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, but the way his voice cracked in her ear told her he didn’t even believe those words. “I love you, Y/N.” She could hear that his words dripped with the same despair she felt. “You know that, ey? I love you, and it’s going to be okay.”

Tommy’s words echoed in her head as she watched the fire blaze around her daughter’s wagon. She wanted to be convinced that his words were true, but she couldn’t bring herself to believe them. When the funeral finished, they all returned to Arrow House, where the wake was being held. Even being in a crowded room surrounded by family, Y/N felt alone. Her whole body was like radio static – unfeeling. Tommy’s hand was on her lower back the entire time, but she still felt like she was floating away. Nothing could tether her to this reality anymore.

Several people approached her and Tommy, and with every person, a new empty comment emerged.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” which loosely translates to, “Boy, that sucks to be you.”

“I can’t even imagine what you’re going through,” which means, “I’m really glad I’m not dealing with that!”

And, “At least you still have Ben,” equates to, “You shouldn’t be upset when you still have one kid alive.”

With every consolation tossed at her feet like the change she used to find on the ground when she was a child, this unknown sensation began to build in her chest. It was heavy and wild, like an untamed animal. It was red and bared its teeth, ready to bite. It was something Y/N had never felt before. She was usually understanding, calm, and collected. She wasn’t hot-headed or easily provoked. But now, she was quickly discovering that what she was feeling was rage. Hot and stormy, it ravaged her insides, and instead of beating it back into its cage, Y/N leaned into it, letting it hold her battered and broken soul up.

After the wake, Y/N let her sadness swallow her. She hid in one of the guest rooms daily and even went as far as to avoid Tommy. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him because every time their eyes met, two things happened. 1) she could see the grief he was carrying like cinder blocks chained to his neck, and 2) she could see the way he looked at her like she was a broken piece of artwork now. She knew she was a shell of the woman she once was, but it hurt her even more to know that Tommy saw it so plainly in her, too. He didn’t see her as the strong, independent woman he fell in love with. No, now she was a ghost of her former self, and she couldn’t take his pity for having lost their daughter and herself.

Although clearly grieving, Tommy didn’t seem nearly as phased by their loss as Y/N. He was able to jump back into work, and now, nearly a week since the wake, he was back to being fully invested. If Y/N were being honest, she envied Tommy for being able to distract himself. She couldn’t do anything but hide from the memories that haunted their home and do her best to still be a good mother to Ben. When a week finally passed since laying her daughter to rest, Y/N knew she had to do something. She would talk to Polly and beg for some sort of work. She didn’t care that Polly insisted that Y/N take some “time to heal.” She needed a distraction. Being in Arrow House felt more like a prison than a home.

Y/N got dressed and began to head for the door after handing Ben over to Frances. But, as she approached Tommy’s office, she could hear him talking. She peeked through the tiny crack to discover John and Arthur sitting at Tommy’s desk.

“Ada’s handling the Communists. She’s got someone on the inside who’s giving us information,” Tommy stated. “And,” he shuffled papers around on his desk, “I’m…dealing with Father Hughes.”

“And what about the horny princess?” John asked, leaning forward and adjusting his jacket. “You gonna figure out where her family keeps the jewels?”

Tommy waved him off. “I already know.” That single statement had both his brothers and Y/N leaning forward just slightly. Tommy lay a large blueprint on his desk, causing the brothers to stand.

“They keep their entire collection in this strong room. There’s no way to get in from above without a key,” Tommy stated, flattening the paper and looking up at his brothers.

“So, what’s your plan, brother?” Arthur asked like a good soldier. Tommy straightened slightly, and Y/N could tell he was a little uncomfortable. He pulled a cigarette from his case and slid it across his bottom lip before lighting it and taking a drag.

“We’ve gotta tunnel in,” Tommy said without hesitation. Those four words landed on the Shelby men like a grenade, and Y/N could almost feel the atmosphere shift at the statement. None of them moved. It was evident that the idea of tunneling hadn’t been a thought in any of their minds since the war. Tommy cleared his throat.

“I know,” he began, “but there’s no other way. I’ve already got Johnny Dogs ready to help. He’ll set up camp where we’ll start the tunnel.”

The air was thick, and again, neither of the brothers spoke. She knew they didn’t like the plan, but they would comply because Tommy was giving the orders. Y/N watched as John and Arthur fiddled with their suit jackets, their anxious energy hitting her like a baseball bat to the face. It wasn’t until Arthur blew out a puff of air and ran his hand through his messy hair, exposing his apprehension, that Y/N knew what she would do. Without even a second thought, Y/N opened the door to Tommy’s office, and all three men turned to face her. She was only adding insult to injury as the silence in the room became even heavier. Neither of her brothers-in-law had seen her since the wake, and the uneasy energy was almost palpable. Tommy stepped toward her but didn’t get too close, which Y/N could see his brothers noticed.

“Y/N, is everything alright, love?”

Her eyes flitted between all three of the Shelby men for a moment before finally landing back on Tommy. She knew she probably looked like a deer in headlights. Her stare was frazzled, and she knew she looked a bit harried. But she still squared her shoulders and stated with the most conviction she could muster, “Let me help.”

All three men’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, but only one spoke.

“Excuse me?” Tommy asked, incredulity lacing each word. There was no going back now. Y/N had to double down on her commitment. So, she waved her hand toward the blueprints on Tommy’s desk.

“With the tunnel.”

Tommy’s eyes turned a shade darker, and Y/N could see his jaw tick. She only glanced at John and Arthur for a second, and they both looked like they might choke on the thickness of the air. She felt like she might, too, but she held her ground. She was not a fragile porcelain doll and could help her husband like she used to. Tommy coughed, then turned to his brothers and, in a calm voice, asked, “Would you mind giving me a moment with my wife, boys?”

Neither of the brothers wasted a second before hustling out into the hallway. Once the door shut behind them, Tommy’s steely gaze landed back on Y/N. Before, she would have felt a little nervous under Tommy’s intense glare. She had never inserted herself into his shoddy business in the past. But now, she didn’t care. She needed a distraction and a way to prove that she was still a force to be reckoned with even after her loss. Y/N could see Tommy trying to contain his anger as his nostrils flared and his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. His eyes shut for a brief moment as he took a deep inhale.

“Are you fucking insane, Y/N?” He finally asked, his voice level. Y/N’s mouth fell open, and she reared back just slightly. But before she could say anything, Tommy continued.

“You’ve been avoiding me, your husband, for a week in our own home, and when you decide to finally speak to me, that is what you say?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Tommy.”

“No, Y/N!” He shouted, causing her to startle. “You can’t just move past this!”

That statement made Y/N see red. In the week since Lily’s passing, Tommy did precisely that. Y/N’s spine straightened, and her whole body became rigid.

“Why not!?” she shouted back, stomping toward Tommy. “Is that not what you did? Pretend like we didn’t lose our daughter? You threw yourself into your work. Why can’t I do the same thing?” Her chest was heaving, and as badly as she didn’t want them to, she could feel tears pricking at her eyes. She hated that she was a frustrated crier. Her fists were in tight balls at her sides, and every muscle in her body was flexed. She was ready for a fight. She was prepared for Tommy to yell back at her. In fact, she wanted him to yell at her. She wanted Tommy to tell her how stupid her idea was and that she was out of her mind. She mentally begged Tommy to scream at her for barging in on his meeting with his brothers and even thinking about tunneling. Y/N wanted to feel the passion he usually had toward her before they lost their baby. She needed him to reassure her that she was not a lost cause he was housing but his fierce wife. But he didn’t yell. The fire in his eyes dimmed, and his features softened. The pity eyes were back, and she was struck by the sadness she was trying to escape. She shut her eyes in a lame attempt to avoid looking at her husband and keep her tears at bay, but it was futile. The tiny droplets fell down her cheeks, and when she opened her eyes again, Tommy was right in front of her. He lifted his hands to cradle her face, and she hated how she melted into his touch. It had been a week since she even looked at Tommy, let alone touched him. She couldn’t lie, she missed him. But it was easier to hide from the pain and suffering they both shared than deal with it head-on.

Y/N let out a shaky breath and looked into her husband’s eyes.

“Why can’t I, Tommy?” She asked, barely above a whisper. “Let me help you. Please.”

Tommy’s thumb stroked her cheeks, wiping away a stray tear. He cataloged her features, and for the first time in a very long time, she wished she could see into Tommy’s thoughts. She stared at him and hoped that everything she wanted to say was conveyed in her eyes. I’m no longer the same woman I was a week ago. I’m a failure as a woman and a mother. I’m alone, letting my thoughts eat me alive. I’m scared you won’t love this broken woman I have become. Her eyes pleaded for Tommy to let her prove that she could still be the same person as before. She needed to prove to him and herself that she wasn’t hopeless. But when Tommy shut his eyes and let out a sigh, she knew his answer before he even said it.

He looked at Y/N and said sotto voce, “You know I can’t, love.”

Y/N’s body went rigid, and that new familiar sensation began to bubble in her gut. She could feel it rumbling and swirling, mixing with her fear and sadness, creating an uncontrollable fury. It burned like venom, but she found herself welcoming the sting. Her once soft features hardened, and Tommy noticed the change immediately. Her stare was blank, and the joy that used to fill it had vanished. Before losing her daughter, she never understood why the war had changed Tommy. She supported him while his experiences ravaged him, but she never knew why he returned with a harder exterior than when he left. But now, after suffering such a devastating loss, she understood. There is no coming back from witnessing a tragedy.

Tommy’s rough thumbs brushed against Y/N’s tear-stained cheeks and bent until his forehead rested on hers. “Where did the woman I married three years ago disappear to?” He said, his breath fanning over her face. He pulled back, his distressed stare locking Y/N in place, and whispered, “I know she’s in there.”

The words stung like a slap to her already bruised ego. She could feel the weight of that question in every bone of her body. All her fears began raging a war inside her head, and she could feel her armor cracking. She could feel the tears clogging her throat, burning as she swallowed them down. Her lungs felt like they weren’t getting nearly enough oxygen, and she was only seconds away from either crying or breaking something. With a swift step backward, Y/N separated herself from her husband. She hated to admit that her body yearned for Tommy’s hands back on her, but she batted that thought away as quickly as it appeared. Tommy slowly lowered his hands back to his sides, and she leveled him with a callous stare.

“That woman is gone, Tommy,” she spat. “She burned to ash with her daughter a week ago.” She could see the way her words landed on Tommy like bullets striking his chest. Some of her felt bad, but the angry beast slowly becoming her new persona convinced her she did nothing wrong.

Y/N waited for Tommy to say something, anything, back to her, and when he didn’t, she turned and reached for the door. Confidence that felt different from what she was used to coursed through her body like electricity. She was a little scared of who she was becoming, but those wild and fiery feelings of rage were the only things that brought her peace. Before pulling the door open, she turned back toward Tommy and said, “If you won’t let me help you, Tommy, I’ll find someone else who will. You forget, my roots run deep in this business, too.”

Tommy let out a dry laugh. “You’re really threatening me, now, ey?”

Y/N’s grip tightened around the cold door handle, and, through gritted teeth, she growled, “It’s not a threat, Thomas. It’s a promise.” Without a second look, she flung the door open and stepped out.

John and Arthur straightened at her abrupt appearance, and she just brushed past them, letting her feet carry her toward the front of their home. She knew they heard her and Tommy’s conversation, but she didn’t care anymore. This newfound boldness that her bereavement had granted her washed away any and all anxiety.

“Hope you enjoyed the show, boys,” Y/N tossed over her shoulder toward John and Arthur. “Next time, I’ll sell tickets and make talking to my husband more worthwhile rather than a waste of my time.”

She didn’t turn back around to see their reaction to her words. Instead, she showed herself out and hopped into one of Tommy’s many vehicles. She would find another way if he wouldn’t allow her to help. The image of a tall Jewish man whom she briefly met a while back when Tommy first started expanding into London entered her mind. She knew exactly who would be more than willing to give her a hand in her effort to help the Shelby family – Alfie Solomons.

175 notes · View notes