#Mum and Gypsy

[divinekangaroo]

Was thinking while watching that scene where Pol tells Ada about her abortion.

Polly really doesn't take on the mum role in the family to my mind, or even the matriarch/aunt tbh. And I think, there was some summary somewhere that referred to her as the consigliere and while she does perform a certain bouncing-board, plan formation role with Tommy (and only with Tommy, and only with insight into certain parts of his plans; I'm struggling to think of times the others listen to her without Tommy backing her up, S3 as example of when they don't), her other behaviours in the family also mean this isn't her role at all.

She's the wild older sister who is loving and explosive and hurtful, and incredibly, incredibly fragile, afraid and she feels so very scared, vulnerable and alone, most of the time. She just wants all her loved ones to be happy and safe and in achieving that, Tommy is frequently as much of an obstacle as he is the vehicle to get her that. I do headcanon that Polly lives 99% of her life in fear and on that edge of breakdown, it's just that she's lived with it so long she probably doesn't even acknowledge it any more. Her reactivity is so high.

So yeah, it's no wonder Tommy sort of plays that joint patriarch-matriarch role (arranging marriages etc), because Polly is *not* playing the matriarch.

[blapeh]

HELP

[sourholland]

timeless; thomas shelby

This idea has been plaguing my mind for days, I cannot get it out of my head. I’m not sure if I will make any more parts of this, it all depends on how I feel about it and if it is well received. The timeline of this is skewed on purpose, it’s also heavily based on Tommy’s time fighting during the war. Timeless by Taylor Swift was a huge inspiration.

Both you and Tommy became unlikely friends during childhood, only for you to realize you had always loved him. Tommy finds himself seeing you in a different light, only war being able to separate the two of you. (3.5k)

Thomas Shelby was the first and only boy you had ever loved.

It was 1902, Tommy was twelve years old. He played with your older brother, they went out into the street with the Shelby brothers and few other boys from the neighborhood and kicked a ball around. You were eight, trailing your brother Joseph at every chance you had.

When you met Tommy, it was because you had chased after your brother one August afternoon with the intention to join their game of kickball. The moment you approached the large group of prepubescent boys, Joseph looked absolutely mortified. Even though he was older than some of the boys, at fourteen, he still followed all of Tommy’s orders. This, you didn’t understand.

“Go home,” he leaned down to your level in gritted teeth.

“I just want to play, just one game,” you pleaded with him. “Please, Joey.”

“No,” he barked. “Y/N, you gotta get out of here.”

Feeling your face heat up, you were near tears and embarrassed in front of all of the older boys. Joseph would not let up, angry at you for trying to play with him and his friends.

“What the fuck d’she want?” Arthur bellowed towards your brother.

Peering over at him, you could tell that he was not very patient and was even older than Joseph. After Arthur had yelled, you turned back to go home. Hot tears spilled down your cheeks as you shuffled back to where you lived and went inside to play alone.

“Fuckin’ asshole is what you are,” Tommy shook his head a bit. “Game’s not fuckin’ hard or anythin’, Joe. She could have played.”

That was all they ever said again on the matter, your brother never brought it up to you that night and you never spoke of it to him. It wasn’t until later on that month that anyone had approached you about what happened that day in Small Heath.

You were sent out to pick up your mother’s cigarettes, dragging your feet along the dirt path with the coin in your hand. Every Wednesday, you made the same trek. Tommy Shelby came up on your right side as you walked one day, you saw a screwdriver sticking out of his pocket and nearly shuttered. The kids around the neighborhood spoke of him in hushed whispers, calling him a gypsy and saying he and his brothers carried razor blades around with them.

“You’re Joe’s sister, aren’t you?” He asked, peering over at you. “Tried to join in on a game a while back?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “I’m Y/N.”

He hummed in response, kicking dirt with his shoe as you both walked. He was much taller than you, though he was still quite narrow and scrawny. Truthfully, there was no denying that you had a little bit of a schoolgirl crush on him.

“Where’re you headed?” He finally spoke up.

“Grabbing my mum’s cigarettes,” you told him with a sigh. “She sends me out every week to pick some up.”

At the time, you had no clue why Tommy had followed you all the way to the shop and then walked you home. He never gave you any inclination either. Then, he did the same the next week. He came outside when you passed his house and you walked together. This occurred every week after the first.

Of course, you assumed this meant he liked you and this caused you to revel in the attention just a little. Tommy would talk to you about school and horses mostly, he was kind to you.

About six months after you and Tommy had developed this weekly routine, you mentioned something to your brother about it and he teased you about having a crush on Tommy. Making the mistake of saying he must’ve liked you back if he continued to walk along with you, Joseph was quite cruel in return.

“He doesn’t do it because he likes to,” Joseph laughed. “Father started pestering me to walk with you when he found out you were being picked on in school, bothered and such by the boys around. I started to give Tommy a bit of my allowance to walk with you so dad would finally get off my fucking back.”

You no longer walked to the shops on Wednesdays.

Tommy waited for you the next week, but you never left out front and began past his house. The week after, he did the same and you still did not come.

“Y/N!” Your mother’s voice came up the staircase on Thursday morning. “Come to the door.”

Tommy stood there in the walkway to your home, talking with your mother about something as you came down the steps. She left you to walk outside together and down the stairs into the street.

“You’re not getting your mum’s cigarettes anymore?” He asked you suddenly.

“No, I am,” you told him. “Just don’t want to walk with you anymore.”

He seemed taken aback by this, not used to the idea of you sticking your nose up at him and looking the other way when he tried to talk to you. Tommy knew you were smitten with him, he didn’t mind it. He thought you were nice enough, he liked to walk with you every week. He just didn’t see you the same way that you saw him, you were too young and too curious about certain things.

“Why’s that?” He shot back a little annoyed.

“Joey told me that he’s been paying you to do it, to make sure nobody messes with me.”

“And?” Tommy asked. “Doesn’t really fuckin’ matter if you ask me, whether he’s payin’ me or not.”

This made you roll your eyes, shaking your head at him and leaning against the brick of one of the alleyways you walked down. Tommy was confused as to why this bothered you so much, truthfully it didn’t really matter about the money to him. It helped him to buy cigarettes, that was all. He didn’t mind walking along with you, though. He would’ve done it without the payout.

“It matters to me,” you told him. “I don’t need looking after or anything like that.”

Turning on your heel, you thought that you’d been able to get the last word. Little did you know, nobody but Tommy got the last word. He only realized you had decided to go out on Saturdays, rather than Wednesdays. He told Joseph that he wouldn’t be requiring payment anymore and you walked in silence for over a month before you spoke to him on your walks again.

His stubbornness irked you, leaving you infuriatingly mad at his inability to leave you alone. Your cheeks went hot when he came around, stomach in knots whenever he would say your name.

Over the years, you had tried to shake your feelings for Tommy. This was mostly due to the fact that you had grown attached in a way that allowed you to call him a friend. By the time you were eleven, Tommy had taught you how to ride his horse. He spent an entire summer working with you. He was fifteen and definitely had plenty of better things to do, but he spent hours upon hours in the grueling sun with you.

“Tommy,” you said, laying sprawled out on a patch of grass one afternoon when you were thirteen and he was seventeen. “D’you want to come ‘round to mine for supper tonight? Mum asked me to invite you over.”

The last bit was a lie, you truly just wanted Tommy to join you. He inhaled shortly before propping himself up on his hand and looking over at you.

“Can’t tonight, m’sorry,” he apologized to you.

“Why not?” You asked curiously, assuming he’d saying something about having to be with his brothers or Polly.

“I’ve actually asked a girl out,” he confessed to you. “I’m planning to take her out tonight.”

This was one of the few times Tommy discussed his love life with you. Your friendship mostly consisted of doing other things, less intrusive things. He still really saw you as a younger sister type of figure in a way. He thoroughly enjoyed your company, but there was no denying his attraction to the girls he saw in school.

Once, Tommy told you about Arthur bringing home a prostitute. He didn’t tell you why he did it, or what they did. Only laughed it off, unbeknownst to him that you really didn’t know what a prostitute was. Joseph had called them whores, but you lived a rather sheltered lifestyle and none of the older people around you ever spoke about such things in front of you.

Tommy took girls out, he’d had several girlfriends as you approached your later teenage years. Your friendship, however, never faltered. When you were seventeen years old, you remember going out riding with him and telling him how you wanted to make something of yourself beyond what Small Heath had to offer. Planning to become a schoolteacher, Tommy had always admired this about you.

“Don’t you want to be something other than all this?” You asked him, alluding to the fact that he was growing more and more responsible for the Peaky Blinders. “I mean, I just wondered if you ever had other dreams.”

“I’d like to work with horses,” he told you quietly, running his hands over the mare’s mane.

“Why don’t you?” You questioned him. “I know you feel some sense of responsibility over your family, I think it’s one of your best traits. Don’t you ever want to just—I don’t know, live a less tormenting life?”

Tommy played with the reins, looking at you and shrugging. This was all he’d ever known, and all he would ever know. There was no Birmingham without Tommy Shelby, you knew it as well as anyone. It still hurt, though. Knowing he was playing with fire every day, testing God, as your mother had called it.

Once Tommy had grown more involved in the gang, your parents no longer allowed him to come over to the house. They detested you seeing him at all, your brother most of all. He settled quickly, marrying a woman and starting a family.

Tommy realized he loved you when he was twenty two years old. He’d known you for ten years, having called you his best friend for a decade. You were eighteen years old and had just begun training to become a teacher, you were commuting frequently and saw Tommy less and less.

It was that Christmas when you’d introduced him to the man you had been courting, his name was Michael. When he shook the man’s hand, Tommy felt something inside of him shift. Suddenly, you were no longer that little girl with scuffed shoes and long pigtails. He saw a young woman with ambition and heart, but you were no longer holding out for Tommy like you had for nearly ten years.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Arthur came up and clapped Tommy on the back of the shoulder. “S’fucking Christmas and you’re really bringing my spirits down.”

Tommy said nothing, downing more whiskey as he watched Michael spin you around in a dance. You were in a fit of laughter, smiling at him adoringly.

“Be serious, brother,” Arthur sighed, drunk and wondering how Tommy could truly be as he was. “You can’t tell me that you’re sitting over here in the corner drinking away your sorrows because she’s brought along some bloke.”

“Fuck off, won’t you?” Tommy shot him a look.

“Unbelievable,” Arthur walked away laughing.

It was completely and utterly unbelievable, not only to Arthur, but to Tommy as well. He’d spent years with you, practically praying that you would find someone, anyone to avert your feelings too. As you grew older, you also were able to hide your feelings and emotions better in Tommy’s case.

He watched you the entire night, nodding a farewell when he noticed you trying to approach him. He had no intention of speaking to Michael again, for fear that he may be physically ill.

His hope that it was a passing courtship died with what looked to be your close friendship. The two of you hardly saw each other anymore, animosity forming between you after the night of the Christmas party.

Months later, Tommy found himself at your apartment door when Ada had told him that you mentioned thinking Michael was planning to propose. He left to see you after midnight, walking the entire distance to where you lived and putting himself at your front door well past one in the morning.

“Y/N,” he called out as he knocked. “It’s Tommy.”

Opening the door, you were only left in your nightdress. Your hair was down completely, something Tommy had not seen since you were some years younger. He could not help but to notice the sheer material of the fabric, the buds of your nipples showing through.

“Tommy?” You yawned. “What’re you doing here?”

“I needed to talk to you,” he told you.

“Now? It’s the middle of the night.”

Ushering him in, you let him shut the door behind him and tried to rub the sleep out of your eyes. Tommy felt himself growing hard, looking at you in such a state.

“Y/N, don’t marry him,” Tommy blurted out in almost a whisper.

“What?” You looked at him, shocked. “What did you say?”

“Don’t marry him, don’t marry Michael.”

There was a stillness to the room, a silence that made you almost sick. His face was somehow stoic, but pleading at the same time. His eyes bored into your own, as if they were making it impossible to get a word out.

“He is a good man, Tommy,” you said. “He wants to take care of me, to make me happy.”

“With plenty of money and security, with a practical occupation and a good legacy to leave your children?” Tommy asked, sarcasm incredibly evident.

“Yes, Tommy. Fuck, I mean is that what you want me to say? That he can give me a good life? Why should it matter if he’s got money?”

“It shouldn’t, not if you love him,” Tommy told you. “Do you?”

It felt as if you were eight years old again, confronting Tommy about why he was walking with you in the first place. He looked at you with such yearning, such longing. It was as if he was begging you not to say yes, pleading with you not to have already devoted your heart to this man.

There was only one truth of the matter. Thomas Shelby was the only man that you had ever loved.

“Tommy, I have only ever loved you since I was eight years old,” you whispered.

As if unable to hold back any longer, Tommy embraced you fully and brought you into his arms. He kissed you furiously, without any doubt or question that you were meant for him. He let his hands run up and down your back and pulled you into his body.

Before you gave into your urge to let him rip your sheer nightdress off of you, you pulled away with swollen lips and eyes full of desire. This was not right, not until you spoke to Michael. Regardless of how you felt for Tommy, you could not do this to Michael.

“Not yet,” you whispered. “I gave a man my word, I need to speak to him before I can go any further here.”

Tommy respected your choice, he knew you wouldn’t want disloyalty on your conscience. He just nodded his head and placed a hand on your cheek gently, it was in these moments that he forgot about everything else.

Michael didn’t take the news very well at all, his ego was bruised and he pleaded for you to reconsider. He told you how deeply he loved you and how you had led him on, making him believe that you two would have a life together. He was right, you had encouraged him in all of his dreams of your future and you had done it without ever considering how it may end. It was selfish.

It took you weeks before you agreed to see Tommy again after Michael had left you feeling so guilty. Nights of tireless sleep, you would look up at the sky and pray to god that you were making the right decisions.

Over a year into your training, you would soon be able to do what you’d always dreamt of. Dark times approached, though. There were ghosts of whispers at every street corner, they spoke of war so feverishly. It was as if death was due to knock at the doors of families, stripping women of their husbands and children of their fathers.

The thought of this had left Tommy quite stoic most of the time, he held a monotonous view on the entire matter. Every time you had brought it up to him, he told you how he would be expected to fight on behalf of his country if it came down to it.

And so he did, when it came down to it and Britain had joined the War—The Shelby brothers and hundreds of other men in Small Heath joined as well.

“Tommy,” I sniffled as I watched him from across his bedroom pack a small bag of things. “I need you to promise me that you’ll come home, that you won’t die out there. They’re saying things about trench warfare, it’s all really terrifying—”

Tommy crossed the room and took your face in his hands, kissing you hard on the lips, as if it was the last time he would ever do so. A piece of you wondered if he believed that he would die out there.

“Please come home,” you breathed.

“I will come home,” he kissed you again. “I promise you.”

You planned to hold him to this promise. Having waited ten years for Tommy Shelby, you would wait however long more so long as he would come home to you.

It took two months before his first letter would come after you watched him depart on that large ship. Long months of kneeling at the foot of your bed, begging god not to take Tommy. Everything that was being said about the war was absolutely tragic, soldiers being blown to pieces or rotting below the earth in the trenches.

My Dearest Y/N,

I wish I was able to write to you sooner, I cannot say where I am for the risk of interception. Just know that I have never been in such conditions in my life, I spend my days underground. I have taken the role of a tunneler. Trench warfare has not been good to any of us, I find myself fantasizing of the end of this long hell.

I stare at your picture every night before I shut my eyes, dreaming of what it would be like beside you. There is no greater sorrow to me than your absence from my life at this point in time. I can only hope that it will not be for long.

Not long ago, myself and a group of men were gassed. I watched a fellow soldier go blind for nearly three days before he finally came out of it, only with some permanent damage. There are times when I have thought to myself, ‘Perhaps if I was hit, it would not be so bad. Perhaps even death is better than fighting in this war’.

Then I think of you. I think of the promises I made to you before I left to fight in this god awful war. I cannot understand how men are expected to live like this, nor how we will continue on. I was up to my knees in water last week, the trenches dark and desolate as we waited for the storm to pass. There is so much waiting these days.

I look forward to your letter.

With all of my love,

Tommy Shelby

[kadwrites]

surprise visit | T.S

previous part | next part

or check out the series masterlist

summary ; someone pays you a surprise visit

warnings ; arranged marriage!trope, slow burn , fem!reader

a/n ; so i took a break! but im back with a new character that will piss all of you off <3

-

"i still can't believe she did that" you say with a frown , your hands scrubbing the dishes

you're in celest's house, with madeline and fiona. rose had caught a cold, and you thought she might need the help.

"listen.... i love your mother i do" fiona sighed , a towel in her hand as she dried the plate "but that was so....... "

"unnecessary" madeline added, her back pressed to the counter as she talked to the both of you

"more like insane" you corrected, grabbing another plate to clean "i mean why would she do that? couldn't she have just waited until the party was over?"

"you should see 'er face when she saw tommy." madeline snorts a laugh and fiona glared at her , putting a finger to her lips telling her to shut up

"tommy?" you repeat, you turn to madeline. "tommy spoke to 'er?"

"wouldn't say spoke more like...." madeline trails off

"he put the fear of god into 'er." fiona's resolve broke, this drama was too entertaining for her to not partake in

"what?" you can't help the laugh that escaped you, you dry your hand and turn to press your back against the kitchen sink "what did he say?"

"well.... i doubt they knew we were listening." madeline look at fiona

"they didn't but..." fiona puts down the plate and the towel, copying you and resting her back against the counter "he told 'er to apologize to ya, and said that he'd drag 'er out of the wedding if she thought of pulling something like that"

"i almost pissed myself and it wasn't even directed to me." madeline shudders

"oh yeah he sounded fucking scary, and very angry." fiona nodded

you just stare at the both of them with an amused smile.

"ya wanna know what else he said?" madeline wiggles her brows at you and you raise yours

"what?"

"your mum said that it's a family matter that he shouldn't middle in, and he said 'she's my family.'" she says the words in a rough voice, mimicking tommy

you hate this feeling, the feeling of a hundred butterflies in your stomach at the thought of him saying that.

you try to roll your eyes and act indifferent, but the smile says everything.

"right." you're tone is sarcastic

"i swear on my life!" madeline exclaimed

"he did say that, it's true" fiona points at madeline and nods

"well...." you try to hide the giddiness "he was pretty...... nice to me that night."

madeline and fiona look at each-other before pouncing on you

"oh my god!"

"what did he say?"

"what did he do?"

"oh my god did ya two kiss?" fiona gasps, putting a hand over her heart.

"no!" you hiss at her, waving a hand "and keep your voice down! celest and the children are asleep."

"ya got me all excited." madeline grumbles, crossing her arms

"all i said that he was being nice! ya two just love jumping to conclusions"

you tried to avoid your mother as much as you could, which was hard considering you live in the same house.

you sat in the living room, with renne. she was showing you all the baby clothes she had gotten

"look at the little pants" your voice is filled with excitement "i can't wait to meet the baby."

"believe me , i want it out of me as soon as possible" she mumbles, her hand on her belly. "i love the baby to bits, i do. but god does she like to kick my organs around."

"she?" you ask with a raised brow

"oh right" she waves a hand "your father said that he was it in a dream."

"he saw your baby?" you chuckle

your father was part gypsy, and he swore up and down that those visions were passed down to him, his dreams and intuitions.

"what else did he see?" you ask jokingly

"he saw ya." she nods

"me?" your brows furrow

"he didn't tell me what he saw, but he said ya were there" she sighed , folding the baby clothes

"why didn't he tell me?"

"no idea" she shrugged "didn't he dream that ya will get married ?"

"he did, but i think that was mostly wishful thinking" you snicker , helping her fold the soft pieces of clothing

"i do believe 'im , ya know." she looks at you

you smile at her "i do too, to a degree."

you both turn, as your mom walks in and calls your name

"someone is here for you." she looks you up and down

your brows pinch in confusion, why is she looking at me like that?

you look at renee before getting up and walking towards the door , and you see a face that made you want to vomit

"jeremy?" you almost look bewildered "what the fuck are ya doing here?"

-

taglist ; @tardisloverz , @optimisticsandwichgladiator , @theshelbyslimited , @illuminwtesz , @goldensunflowe-r , @gruffle1 , @warrior-of-justice , @mgdixon , @babayaga67 , @goblinjnr , @justaproudslytherpuff , @budugu , @twlegit , @amberpanda99 , @aesthetic0cherryblossom , @capswife , @lets-turn-and-burn , @affabletimelady , @edencherries , @globetrotter28 , @eg-dr3amer3 , @sadroses98 , @fairytale07 , @hakudaru , @swordofawriter, @esposadomd , @blogforficslol , @bearchermer , @n1c0t1n4 , @dreamy-caramel , @dragonsondragons , @charli123456789 , @bunny24sstuff , @butterfly-lover , @my-tin-can-mans

[melefim]

Dead Boy Detectives full soundtrack!

(Or at least all the ones I could find)

I’ve seen several soundtrack playlists floating around, but unfortunately a lot have other songs added or are missing some that were used in the show, so I went ahead and made my own!

Below the cut is a full listing of when each song was used during the show, timestamped as accurately as I could manage.

Please let me know if there are any songs I missed, and I’ll add them ASAP! Score will be added if/when it’s released. If anyone would be interested in separate posts for each episode, let me know and I’ll get right on it!

Enjoy!

🎥Promotional🎥:

“Psychobilly Bandits” by Alibi Music: Teaser trailer

���Welcome to the Black Parade” by My Chemical Romance: Full trailer

“Young and in Love” by Fast Forward Romance: Meet the Characters teaser

🔮The Case of Crystal Palace🔮:

“Doorman” by slowthai, Mura Masa: Hotel hallway chase scene. (2:33-2:47)

“Hang on to Yourself” by David Bowie: Prep for Crystal’s case. (11:59-12:30)

“Bad Feeling” by Cobra Man: What Crystal is listening to on her headphones in the subway before the David the Demon fight. (12:36-13:04)

“I’m Telling Your Mum” by Danny Farrant, Paul Rawson: Jenny’s introduction. (21:46-22:44)

“It’s Not Unusual” by Tom Jones: In the Malt shop after they find Esther’s house and after Crystal sees David the Demon. (26:42-27:38, 29:24-29:47)

“Bones of Rock” by The Boneless Ones: In the background during Crystal and Jenny’s talk in the alley. (34:03-35:07)

“Take the Rest of Me” by Brocklesby Crooke: Dandelion sprites- Crystal meeting Niko. (36:39-36:51)

“Deal Wiv It” by Mura Masa, slowthai (instrumental): Meeting David the Demon flashback. (38:36-39:10)

“So What?” by NOISY (instrumental): Planning Becky’s rescue in the butcher shop. (41:34-42:19)

“White Teeth” by The Screaming Gypsy Bandits: Record playing inside Esther’s house. (43:33-44:30)

“Surfing in the Sky” by The Vaccines: Fight in Esther’s front yard. (49:08-49:50)

“Missing” by slowthai (instrumental): Sending Becky home, heading back to the butcher shop. (51:23-52:34)

🌼The Case of the Dandelion Shrine🌼:

“Take the Rest of Me” by Brocklesby Crooke: Dandelion sprites- Niko faints outside the bathroom and attracts attention in the butcher shop. (12:48-12:52, 28:29-28:57)

“Natural Successor” by Pictish Trail: Turning Monty human. (47:22-49:16)

🪓The Case of the Devlin House🪓:

“Free Tonight” by Skymachine: Charles & Crystal walk into butcher shop, just a few bars on radio before anchor talks about the storm. (8:13-8:15)

“Oceans” by The Yada Yada Yadas: on radio after anchor talks about the storm while Charles and Crystal are asking Jenny about the Devlin murders. (8:21-8:50)

“Owner of a Lonely Heart” by Yes: Devlin house time loop, repeated multiple times. (First full loop 19:06-21:09. Loop repeats: 21:31-23:05, 23:36-24:38, 25:02-25:35, 26:52-27:17, 29:04-29:55, 30:22-31:24, 33:17-34:30, 34:34-35:35, 35:48-37:01, 37:18-38:55, 39:28-40:50. Final loop: 42:23-42:36)

🌊The Case of the Lighthouse Leapers🌊:

“RoMaNcE” by ShitKid: Jenny reading letter from her secret admirer, gets rent from the girls. (1:16-2:40)

“Fire Escape” by Nine One One: Jenny reading letter before finding the Night Nurse upstairs. (29:06-29:32)

“The Wellerman” (original music box version): Charles winds up music box, hits Night Nurse with it, kicks her into Angie. (43:07-43:49)

“Young Blood- White Sea Remix” by The Naked and Famous, White Sea: End of episode- Niko starts to read letters from mother, Charles and Crystal kiss, end credits. (48:22-50:59)

🐉The Case of the Two Dead Dragons 🐉:

“Thunder” by ZEE MACHINE: Interviewing students about Brad & Hunter. (14:24-15:11)

“Apocalypse” by Cigarettes After Sex: Jenny and Maxine mid-date. (26:54-28:04)

“Melting” by Kali Uchis: Jenny and Maxine late date until stalker reveal. (36:25-38:10)

“Disorder” by Joy Division: End credits. (49:49-50:41)

🍄The Case of the Creeping Forest🍄:

“Who’s Ur Girl?” By The Mysterines: Niko redecorates her room. (1:15-1:29)

“The Wellerman” (original Music box version): Sea calming music box, playing inside Angie. (13:45-14:07, 15:35-15:49)

“A.T.T.A.C.K” by Arre! Arre!: Niko tries to get Jenny to forgive her in the butcher shop. (20:49-21:57)

“Shakedown” by Infamous Stiffs: End credits. (51:17-52:11)

🕷️The Case of the Very Long Stairway🕷️:

“Under the Milky Way” by The Church: Charles’ memories of his death. (11:06-13:15)

“Dinner Jazz” by Tony Kinsey: Limbo/Hotel lobby in Hell. (17:27-18:27, 44:13-44:30)

“Revolution Action” by Atari Teenage Riot: David turns on lights and music in abandoned bowling alley. (30:20-30:48)

“Window Shopping” by Robert Foster: Gluttony/Café when exiting Hell. (43:13-43:35)

“Circle In The Sand” by Belinda Carlisle: Jenny singing in Crystal’s head while possessed. (31:43-33:50)

“Burning” by Yeah Yeah Yeahs: Monty flies away from rooftop, Esther works on her machine, Jenny sleeps while Niko looks at Cursed Magic 8 ball, Night Nurse knocks on supervisor’ door, Crystal eats first memory marble, end credits. (52:37-55:16)

🐍The Case of the Hungry Snake🐍 :

“Standing In The Way of Control” by Gossip: Crystal’s first memory marble. (1:18-2:04)

“I’m What You Want” by Walt Disco: Crystal Club fight memory. (8:35-8:48)

“When I’m Gone” by Ging: Crystal says goodbye and leaves the butcher shop. (16:18-18:13)

“Sleeping On Grassy Ground” by The Heavy Heavy: Charles and Edwin wake up in Esther’s house. (25:55-27:43)

“Who’s Sorry Now” by Connie Francis: Niko and Crystal break into Esther’s house. (30:35-31:17)

“Loss & Relax” by Black Belt Eagle Scout: Talking in Niko’s room. (40:44-42:59)

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

And if you like lists of things like I do, you can check out my other Dead Boy Detective ones here!

When Charles’ shirt color changes

George Rextrew’s Edwin comic inspo board

Moves, Incidents, and Cases masterlist

Swearing Stats Masterlist

First pass at finding where the songs in the score are used- full post with timestamps in progress.

[newsatsix1986]

News At Six 1986 Meets Gypsy Taylor! 💖👸🏼

.

.

It’s not every day that you are personally outfitted by an acclaimed costume designer, so Mum and I know how lucky we are!

From the second Gypsy Taylor greeted us at the costume trailers, we were surrounded by sunshine and a joyous celebration of who we are! Gypsy Taylor wants all performers to look and feel their best, ready to razzle dazzle on camera, and Mum and I were no exception. She gave us the special treatment by dressing us herself, and had us try on and select three outfits she had picked out for us based on our measurements. For Mum, her black and green matching two piece suit was the one which made her eyes shine, and I had to go with the matching bolero and harem pant combo she had picked out for me! It was that cool and I hope I can find something like it one day!

Our trip inside the costume trailers also gave us an early peek into the costumes of the season! My eyes shone exploring the trailers; it was like walking through the best vintage shop around! It felt so cool being entrusted with the knowledge of how our characters would be dressed in Season Three. I noted the explosion of colour, and Gypsy stated that this was intentional. She wanted there to be a lot of bold colour this season, and she pulled out certain pieces to proudly show us, such as Kay’s Logies dress! She was especially keen to tease about Cheryl’s princessy wedding dress, which was so huge that it couldn’t be kept in the trailer!

Getting to walk through both trailers and handle a lot of the garments was an enormous privilege, and I took photos of various racks! The sections you see in my photos belong to Helen, Dale, Jean, Cheryl, Kay and Evelyn, as well as some extra costumes and tag dividers for other characters as well. As new promo material and episodes have been released, it has been fun referring back to my photos to see the particular items of clothing on their racks. I especially take note of the multicoloured blouse Helen wore whilst interviewing Daniela, Dale’s chevron jumper he wore in Berlin, and the suit and hat Kay wore in that season tribute video Michael Lucas shared on Sunday.

Thank you Gypsy for helping us sparkle and shine and welcoming us into this treasure trove of extraordinary outfits! It has been the most fun game of Spotto the past six weeks and I have adored each and every outfit! 💖🌟

[vivianleighwishesshewasme]

Rock a Bye Baby

 Tommy and Grace tell Charlie about the baby. He reacts differently than expected.

__________________________________________________________

Both parents had agreed to tell Charlie before bed, now they’d wished they’d done it this morning. 

This morning before all the well wishers gave their thoughts to the happy parents-to-be again, before the collective Shelby family was told and before dinner had ended. 

They’d heard it all but the most consistent thing they were being told outside of the standard congratulation was this…

“He won’t be happy about it. He’s been an only child for several years.” Several older family members had loved saying this over and over to both  expectant parents. 

“Don’t expect him to like the baby when it comes. He’ll be jealous.” 

“Our kids got so upset when we told them another baby was coming.” John and Esme had laughed, not catching Grace's tight smile. They already had a small army. This was different for her and Tommy. They’d been trying for a few years now and every month she bleed was a mounting disappointment. 

Now if they both admitted it out loud they were nervous. 

They had sent their last guest off for the night and turned to one another embracing before they walked upstairs. Neither one wanted to tell their child the news now.

They’d found him playing upstairs. His cousin Karl had left with his mum. Charlie was playing on the floor in his bedroom with a wooden race track from his birthday. Little metal horses raced around as he made horse noises. Tommy had bought it for his fourth birthday a few months back. Charlie played with it nonstop. 

They nodded to each other, steeling up their resolve as a unit and walked hand in hand.

“Is your horse winning? Charlie.” Tommy asked, causing his son to look up at him as the little windup horses continued to race without the child's interference. Sometimes Charlies liked to push his favorite one to ensure its victory. Tommy was always proud of that little detail. 

“I fixed it da.” He said beaming up at his father, his chubby cheeks flush from the night's activities of running with John and Ada’s pack of wild gypsy children. 

“So yes, you're winning then?” Grace smiled up at Tommy and shook her head. He was very clearly proud of his son. 

“Charlie, we have something to tell you.” Grace said, hoping he’d continuing listening. 

“What, now, I'm playing.”  he said, clearly annoyed. That was until he saw his fathers stern expression. A smile grew from Charlie's face as he looked at his parents now. He was as cheeky as his father. 

“Charlie, it's important and you'll show respect to ya mum, ya?” Tommy said leaving no room for an argument but it had been said gently enough the boy nodded and blushed at his folly. 

“Yes.” Charlie said. Grace laughed knowing Charlie's favorite person was his father. She didn’t mind. He was one of her favorite people too. 

“Charlie, you're going to be a big brother soon. Mummy is going to have a baby.” Grace patted her stomach gently and grinned down at Charlie, her eldest child. 

“ Oh, okay.” Charlie said plainly and turned back to winding up his horses for yet another race.

Grace looked at her husband clearly dismayed by his small reaction but Tommy shrugged and kissed her head. 

“He didn’t yell or scream Grace, give him time.” Tommy led his wife out so Charlie could play in peace and he could comfort Grace. 

_______________________________________________________________

They came back upstairs after a few drinks together and saw the light under the nursery shining onto the platform. The door cracked open and they could hear a little voice softly singing. 

Grace practically ran once she realized Charlie was singing an Irish lullaby she often sang to him even now. She bent by the crack of the door and peaked in motioning Tommy to do the same. He smiled and followed suit chuckling softly when he saw Charlie.

He stood perched on a stool over a baby bassinet and gently rocked his teddy bear back and forth while singing little bits of the song his mother had taught him. 

“Okay baby, you go night night now. I love you.” Grace had to cover her mouth as she smothered the noise that was about to come out. The scene before the two parents was so sweet it left soft glistening tears in their eyes. 

Charlie leaned over and kissed his teddy. He went to turn and hop off the stool . Both parents scattered by the stairs as if they were just coming up to not alert Charlie to what they’d seen. He smiled and went into his room, a big boy now not wanting baby kisses himself at night. 

At least that’s what he’d told his mum the night before. She’d snuck in later to pepper his face with kisses. 

“See Grace, he is excited. You just needed to let him think a bit.” Tommy said as he kissed her face and she leaned her head into his shoulder. 

He was excited after all to be a big brother. 

[orchide0us]

Razors and Vermouth

Chapter One

Thomas Shelby x OC

Warnings- canon level violence, swearing.

Birmingham, England 1913

Atticus walks into his family home looking for his younger sister. “Hey sunflower, How’s my birthday girl doing?” Atticus asks, a playful smile creeping onto his face.

She spins around with a smile on her face, “I’m doing good, mum left a bijandipe lunch ready for me this morning.

Atticus grins, clearing his throat before announcing, “Since today is your 18th birthday I’m taking you into the city to see the stables, what do you think about that?”

She looks up at him, her smile growing even more as she asks “Are you serious? Naisarav tuke, me kamav tut! Let me go get ready!”

“Okay,” Atticus replies, laughter in his voice as she runs towards her bedroom. “But hurry up. We want to have enough time so we can leave by dusk.”

As they start driving to the stables there's a flicker of nervousness crossing Atticus’ face. I hope everything goes well he thinks. His sister hops in the car, enthusiastic and ready to go.

“Ok let’s hit the road!” She says her voice filled with anticipation.

As they approach the city Atticus looks tense. He starts driving into an empty alleyway. “Why are we leaving the car here?”

“Well khamesqi dud,” He explains, scanning his surroundings, “ I thought this might be easier to come back to. I’m not sure how busy the stables will be today,” he tells her while sweeping the streets.

While entering the stables the look on his sister’s face grows brighter and brighter, “ I’m so excited We have to go see Cian first!” She declares. As soon as the words come out of her mouth she speeds to the stable.

The day flies by as they groom Cian, giving him a bath, brushing his hair, and getting all of the gear cleaned and polished for the next race. Before they know it, dusk begins to settle softly around them.

Atticus opens his mouth to speak before she interrupts him, “I know we have to go now it’s okay.” She says, a knowing smile on her face.

“Okay smart mouth, I get it you can see into the future.” He teases.

She pouts, “I’m not like mum. She’s the real seer.”

The two walk back to the buggie in comfortable silence, with only the sounds of drunk men laughing at the bars nearby. Just as Atticus turns the corner, five men emerge out of the shadows.

Atticus instinctively grabs his sister and pulls her behind him. “Gentlemen, how may I be of service?”

One man smoking a cigarette, steps forward, “ You Atticus?” he inquires.

*Italians*

“Depends. Who’s asking for me?” Atticus replies his tone hardening.

“Word is you and your gypsy friend were messing with some of our products. We don’t take kindly when people mess with our stuff.”

Atticus glances at his sister, his stomach clenching. “Listen gentlemen I don’t want any problems, I’m here with my sister. We just want to leave.”

The tension in the atmosphere is thick. Atticus realizes he’s gotta keep his cool for his sister’s safety.

“That's too bad.” The man says. “ Somebodys gotta pay, one way or another.” As soon as he finishes he throws his cigarette on the floor. “Grab her!” He yells. His goons reach for Atticus’ sister.

As they go to seize, her she kicks one of them in the stomach.

“Ow! You little bitch you’re gonna pay!” He grabs her hair pulling her back.

She yelps in pain. Tears started to form in her eyes. As soon as Atticus sees this happening he lunges forward hands clenched in the shape of fists.

“Hey get off of her!” Atticus yells. He punches the man and throws him on the floor. Once the rest of the goons realize what’s happening they pull out their knives threatening Atticus. “You better watch it you gypsy, or we’ll hurt your pretty little sister.”

Once Atticus hears he’s distracted, the man gets up, slamming his fist on Atticus’ face and knocking him down.

“Phral!” she yells. The man's goons grab Atticus by his collar pulling him up to his knees, they punch him again and again, his face bleeding everywhere. There’s tears in her eyes.

“Get her up!” He yells, the goons holding her drag her closer. The main man opens his switchblade slicing her neck. “Tell your people to not mess with our products. We hear about this being done one more time and you will all end up like this.” As soon as he finishes he stabs Atticus.

“NO!” she yells, bawling her eyes out.

The men push her on the ground. As they start walking away, chuckling she yells out. “Tu ćhavo e kurvaqo, tu ka poćines!” She starts crawling toward her brother whose face has become pale. She holds his body in her arms crying, rocking back and forth. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” she whispers. She starts to hear sirens approaching. As she turns headlights flash her face making her close her eyes, once her eyes are closed she sees a vision of bright blue eyes that she has never seen before.

Dictionary-

Bijandipe- Birthday

Naisarav tuke, me kamav tut- thank you, I love you

Khamesqi dud- sunshine

Phral- brother

Tu ćhavo e kurvaqo, tu ka poćines- you son of a bitch, you will pay.

[instruth]

A HAKKA HERITAGE

When I was eight years old I had the grandest experience. However, I did not know what it was all about till I was forty.

I come from a traditional Hakka family (Guest Family) - a Chinese dialect group, popularly known as the Gypsies of China, because Hakkas are a migratory race.

My maternal grandfather, Bong Kum San, is a typical traditional Hakka. We love him. He loved his children and grandchildren. Every weekend my mum would bring us to Grandpa’s farm, where there was an orchard of local fruits, a vegetable farm and a big fishpond, among other scenic surroundings. It was a peaceful place and we always looked forward to the visit and staying at Grandpa’s house. He had another house with pepper and rubber plantation up in the country side. We visited only occasionally. It was too far for regular weekend visits. We went there only on school holidays.

There was a little hut just next to the main house where Grandpa and his family resided. It seemed like a meeting place, but only for the male adults - the elders (my grandpa’s siblings) and my three uncles. The only ladies who were permitted (or invited) to the hut were my mum (being the eldest child) and, of course, my grandmother. I have five aunties and three uncles in this Bong family of nine children.

When I was eight, I had a frightening surprise - frightening, because I had thought I was being summoned for punishment. My youngest uncle came and called me, telling me to hurry up, and to go wash up (because I was all messy and dirty, playing in the fields). He said, “Grandpa wants you at the family hut!”

Surprise! Surprise!

I cannot remember his actual words, but I recall he asked me to stand next to him. He said something like I was of age, and being his eldest grandson, I was to start attending the family meeting with the adults.

I had thought this was a short ritualistic meal before the main dinner that was to follow. However, I was rather disappointed. For all I noticed was a round table with a metallic kettle on the boil, a smaller clay pot, a clay basin with a perforated cover, several big earthen jars, small porcelain trays and teacups, with a lot of other utensils, including a small wooden stick.

It was a traditional tea ceremony, where the family often gathered for discussions on family matters, ranging from personal complaints to proposals for solutions, including family business or investments.

The Traditional Tea Ceremony

When I was forty, I met a friend who is a devout follower of the traditional Hakka Tea Ceremony. From him, I learned the elaborate stages and procedures in its preparation.

I was shown all the utensils used for this ceremonious event. Someone is in charge to keep the kettle boiling. All teacups, trays, and other utensils are placed on the basin cover. The cleaning (sterilization) process then begins, the excess hot water dripping into and inside the basin through the perforations on the cover. Each guest or participant will then be given a small tray with a teacup on it. The tea preparation then begins.

Tea leaves are selected from special jars (depending on the occasion or preference), and put in the teapot followed by boiling water. The first two brews are for cleansing or purification of the tea leaves, and these are discarded into the basin, by simply lifting the cover. The third and subsequent brews are served, first from a small dispensing receptacle into the tasting cups, for tasting. When all are satisfied with the taste, the tea is then served from a teapot poured into the drinking cups. New tea leaves are added to replace and to replenish, when the tea has lost its flavor.

There is a small wooden pick, like a little chopstick, for clearing any blockage at the nozzle of the teapot.

There are several rituals in the serving and drinking of the tea. Serving someone older is a sign of respect, serving someone younger is an expression of humility. There is usually a short reflection and sharing of past meetings, with updates of events discussed previously, including pleasant memories of love and help from one another.

The Communal Meal

I remember how my Grandpa often referred to the family gathering at meal times, as a Communal Meal. It is to foster good family ties and healthy relationship through thanksgiving, by way of a continual communication, to speak, to listen and to carry out instructions or orders from the elders (in our case, my grandpa) to help one another, to offer solutions and/or support for the family, especially when there is a crisis and something troubling anyone. It is building a bond of goodwill through love and care, with forgiveness, and by deeds. Grandpa was always firm with his words but sometimes they came across rather harshly, and as a child, I had been frightened of Grandpa. He always reminded us: “Settle every thing now, before we go for our communal meal, so we can stay united as one, in love and trust.”

Sweet Memories

When I was a young man, just after my marriage to my loving wife, we watched the movie, The Godfather, starring Marlon Brando and Al Pacino. At the opening scene, on the wedding day of the god father’s daughter, the family are about to take a family picture, and he notices his favorite son Michael is not present. He stops the photo session and wanted to wait for Michael to arrive. It was a very touching scene.

I cried at this scene.

We always took family photo before the Communal Meal. I was often out some where wandering in the woods all

by myself. There was a day, my uncle came looking for me and he was furious. “Go! Get wash up. We are all waiting for you.”

Grandpa refused to take the photo without me!

It was this movie that triggered my research on the Chinese Tea Ceremony. Years later, I wrote and published it in my book, Curse of the Green Dragon - A Hakka Story.

©Johnny J P Lee

14 November 2021

Photos Credit J. P. Lee

(A family photo taken on my wedding day - my grandpa and grandma are seated to my left. The other photos are our family tea sets for Tea Ceremony, including our collection of tea leaves, and my first novel - Curse of the Green Dragon ( A Hakka Story), covering five poignant generations.

[oswinpond]

My Clara Rewatch, Episode 1: Asylum of the Daleks

I'm going to ignore the silliness in this episode in favour of focusing on Oswin. Fabulous Oswin.

(But for one second, can I just say about how truly silly it is that the Daleks have a parliament? They're Daleks, they have nothing resembling a democracy. Are we supposed to believe they held a Dalek election? And why do they have an asylum when they exterminate anyone, including other Daleks, who show the slightest sign of imperfection by their standards?)

Anyway...

(Also I hate that Amy and Rory have this divorce plot offscreen, and the minisodes don't count. Springing this on us and then resolving it in one single episode was unnecessary. I love getting to watch Amy prove her love for Rory, but we've had plenty of that in s6 and s7a to come.)

Okay now to the good stuff: Oswin.

"Day 363. The terror continues."

Oswin has been on a Dalek planet for nearly a year and is still holding strong. It really speaks to the strength of her character. (Especially when you know...)

I love that Oswin is boarding up her little hiding hole with planks of wood, as if those will keep out Daleks. Bless.

We're first introduced to Oswin with the song "Habanera" from Carmen, the opera. Now I'm no opera connoisseur so I'm pulling from wikipedia here, like a proper English major: "It is set in southern Spain and tells the story of the downfall of Don José, a naïve soldier who is seduced by the wiles of the fiery gypsy Carmen. José abandons his childhood sweetheart and deserts from his military duties, yet loses Carmen's love to the glamorous torero Escamillo, after which José kills her in a jealous rage. The depictions of proletarian life, immorality, and lawlessness, and the tragic death of the main character on stage, broke new ground in French opera and were highly controversial."

I don't want to stretch too hard, but I think there are some obvious parallels to Clara's story in there, intentional or not. But I do think there's something to be said about how Oswin is dressed in that bright red and at one point has a red rose in her hair (oh hey the inspiration for my username!) in that classic spanish tango style. Maybe that was intentional. I mean, Eleven does call her Carmen at one point.

If Clara were on GBBO, she'd lose in the first round.

But is it not absolutely precious that she finds a way to spin everything in a positive light? "Made another soufflé... very nearly." That wasn't even close, my dear. "They came again last night. Still always at night. Maybe they're vampires." She finds a way to turn the trauma of her life, barricading herself from the universe's most deadly killing machines, into a little fantasy (a fantasy within a fantasy, you might say). "Happy birthday, mum. I did make you a soufflé, but it was too beautiful to live." Does it need saying?

The connection to her mom is already being established. Is Oswin's mother still alive, and this version of Clara got to have more time with her? Or did she lose her mother young, too, and is celebrating her birthday as one other way to stay connected to her humanity, her home?

Anyway, she sleeps in a hammock like a pirate. Hot. (And Oswin, like Prime Clara, likes to wear rings. Details.)

Carmen. Oswin. Roses.

I think this is the first time we hear the start of Clara's theme.

"I know a Dalek when I hear one, yeah." So Oswin Oswald, junior entertainment officer of the starship Alaska, has encountered Daleks before. She's seen things, she's done things. Even if this is her first trip out on this starship, somehow she's encountered Daleks. That's pretty cool. Why has Big Finish never done a story about Oswin? Get on that, BF. Phone Jenna.

There's a flavour of Everything Everywhere All at Once with this intro to Clara, this idea of what other versions of yourself would have done in different lives, with different choices and opportunities. Prime Clara was an unofficial nanny who always dreamed of travelling, and then became an English teacher while getting to travel the universe with the Doctor. Oswin became an entertainment officer on a starship, in order to travel the universe. Victorian Clara was both a barmaid and a governess, and immediately jumped at the chance to travel with the Doctor. Common threads between our Claras are very obvious: she's a people-pleaser, she likes to take care of others and make them happy, and she wants to see the world, the universe.

(Tangent: Is "Oswin Oswald" her full name from birth? Or was she also a Clara Oswin Oswald who ditched the "Clara" and started going by her middle name?)

-

DOCTOR: How can you hack into everything? It should be impossible. You're in a crashed ship! OSWIN: Long story. Is there a word for total screaming genius that sounds modest and a tiny bit sexy? DOCTOR: Doctor. You can call me the Doctor. OSWIN: I see what you did there.

The shameless Doctor/Clara flirting has officially started.

Side note, I love how Oswin's hacking genius is explained in The Bells of Saint John soon after this. It's not just Oswin being an entertainment officer who also just happens to be a tech genius. There's a specific plot reason for it, and now I wonder if Victorian Clara ever demonstrated any uncanny abilities with early technology...

-

Oswin saving Rory and interacting with the Ponds is very important to me, seeing as they're my three favourite companions of the show. (Plus, the fact that she flirts with Rory shows she has good taste. That said, if she had flirted with Amy I think the fandom would have combusted on the spot. Speaking for myself, at least.)

Now I totally hate the "I was going through a phase" line because come on we're past the point of describing bisexuality as a phase but thankfully they later fixed this, to some extent, by making it hard canon that Clara is bisexual and identifies as such.

-

Unrelated to Clara, but I adore how when Amy is hallucinating the people-Daleks, she hears a jazzy version of "Together or Not at All". Murray Gold strikes again with the genius.

-

OSWIN: Do you know how you make someone into a Dalek? Subtract love, add anger. Doesn't she seem a bit too angry to you? AMY: Well, somebody's never been to Scotland.

Aside from how funny I find this exchange, I just love how the one emotion we definitely haven't seen Oswin express the entire time is anger. She's shown us plenty of other regular emotions (and in fact, love–when talking about her mother) but we haven't seen a shred of anger from her.

Which is really important for what comes next... the big reveal that Oswin has been fully converted–at least physically–into a Dalek.

Part of me wishes she hadn't been converted. Imagine if we'd gotten Oswin escaping with Amy, Rory, and the Doctor? I would've had my three favourite companions (at least, a version of Clara) interacting as a trio. She could've stuck around for a few episodes before dying in time for the exit of the Ponds and the intro of Victorian Clara. I would've loved to see Jenna play off Karen and Arthur face to face.

But I have to come back to the fact that it's so perfectly set up. Right off the bat, Oswin's situation doesn't make sense. The lone survivor of the Daleks, alone for a whole year, baricading herself from them with planks of wood and surviving off soufflés that aren't edible and we never see her eating them, with ingredients she doesn't have. Every time we see her interact with the Doctor, it's through a very Dalek-like lens:

And of course, we can write that off the whole episode as this just being Dalek technology so of course it looks Dalek-like. But after the reveal, you realize that of course, this is her actual POV.

And most importantly, we need the Doctor to never know what Oswin looks like so that Victorian Clara's death, her repeating the iconic line, and the Doctor finding out her middle name all create that big gut punch moment for him. We as the audience know both characters are played by Jenna Coleman, but the Doctor isn't supposed to know. And when I do the next Clara episode I have a whole thing about why this is so important.

This just about breaks my heart. She finally sees the Doctor has arrived and she immediately runs to pack her suitcase. She's so committed to her self-imposed delusion that she still, to this moment, believes she's about to escape.

"Rescue me chin boy and show me the stars."

It's absolutely heartbreaking hearing her say "I'm hu–" and hearing the Dalek voice finish "–man". Genius, though. And then you hear a Dalek cry for the first time ever and it's so incredibly unsettling because they're the embodiment of evil, of hate, and crying is not Dalek. Sadness and heartbreak are not Dalek.

Oswin has been depicted as the exact opposite of Dalek. When she starts crying, it's the one time she says "exterminate", when she lets it in for the first time, and it's because she's angry about what they did to her. She spent a whole year hiding from the truth of the unbelievable trauma she's been put through, partly because it's too much to deal with, but also because if she lets herself face it she will feel that anger, and they'll start to win over her mind. Oswin lives in delusion to protect herself and her humanity.

"Eggs... stir... minate..." isn't just a fun twist. She turned "exterminate" into something as harmless as a soufflé recipe. Oswin took the one word Daleks use the most, the one that, on Doctor Who, is the epitome of evil, and turned it into something human, something positive, something creative (even if she sucked at it) and that she associated with the love for her mother.

Oswin spent a whole year fighting a full Dalek conversion, while the rest of her crew couldn't fight off a partial one, and she refused to let them turn her into a killer. The pure strength of her will is incredible.

I just adore these shots of Oswin crying, finally accepting the truth of what happened to her. Jenna knocked this out of the park.

As I said, crying is not Dalek.

And then she decides that no, she won't let in the anger, she won't let them win, ever. She'll save the Doctor, the biggest enemy of the Daleks, and die as Oswin, a human.

Then she says her iconic line, "Run you clever boy, and remember." She breaks the fourth wall which, correct me if I'm wrong, is the first time it's happened on the show, until Twelve comes in to make that one of his rare quirks.

That's my girl.

[inthepeakymidwinter]

Bon Voyage (Thomas Shelby x Reader)

This was based on prompt 22 for the lovely @the-fangirl-diaries , I hope you enjoy it!

Prompt 22- playful teasing

(Still taking requests. Prompts here)

Summary: Thomas comes to visit a workaholic horse trainer Y/N and tries to whisk her away on vacation.

Word Count: 754

TW: Horses

—————————————————————

I was brushing Mr. Shelby’s race horse in the stables I inherited from my late father. I was trying to prepare the horse, named Gypsy, for the next big race. The race it was supposed to win. I heard strong footsteps coming from the front of the barn and hurried up my brushing, turning my head to get a glimpse of who was entering. It was none other than Thomas Shelby in his dark haired glory. The man with a fine taste in suits here to enter a dirty old stable. “Mr. Shelby, what a surprise” I said from behind the horse. He walked up to where I was brushing the horse and fumbled with his coat pockets.

“I’ve heard you haven’t had a day off” He spoke in a deep voice that came so naturally to him.

“Have you been talking to my mother?” I grew frustrated.

“Y/N, she’s a good woman. It’s not my fault she happens to like me more” He teased and walked up closer to me, making me simultaneously frustrated and nervous.

“We all need to take breaks, Y/N. Even the best horse trainers in the world take breaks” He informed me.

“And yourself? Do you go on breaks Thomas Shelby?” I scoffed.

He smiled back at me with those crushing blue eyes. I could get lost in them for eternity.

“As a matter of fact that’s why I came here, Y/N. I’m taking a nice long break and I’d like you to join me” He invited.

“Well that’s nice and all but I have to take care of the horse” I tried to shrug off his invitation. It was too much for me to even consider. Going out with a man who I barely know. Who is my boss and could release me from my contract at any moment. It was out of the question.

“I arranged for Curly to take care of the horse while you’re gone. We’ll be gone for barely a week-“

“A week?! Mr.Shelby I have strict plans for this horse I can’t be gone for that long!”

“Curly can follow every instruction…if its something you want” Thomas spoke carefully considering my angsty body language.

“You know you don’t have to be scared of me” He teased again.

“I’m not I-“

“I just know that I used to be the same way as you. Hard working. No days off, but slowly over time your mind starts playing tricks on you. It starts telling you that all you have is your work and that no one else can do what you do…but the truth is we’re all replaceable anyway…So you have to learn to take time for yourself. No one else is going to” He sighed and looked down at the hay covered floor.

“Fine, but I’m only going because my mom told you to do this” I huffed and walked out of the stables with him.

“It was all my idea. Your mom just gave me permission” He smiled.

I laughed and looked into his blue eyes once more. He was growing softer on me. It was a good look for him.

As we neared the driveway I noticed his all black car ready to go.

“I’ll let you pack and you can meet me here when you’re ready” He explained.

I nodded at him and walked up the porch steps, entering my home to find my bags all packed and waiting in the hall. I shook my head and thought about how my mother is never up to any good.

“Goodbye mum” I shouted at the top of my lungs. She was always in the kitchen cooking something.

I heard her footsteps race out to the hallway. She embraced me in a big hug, wearing her apron covered in flour. “Have a good time dear” She blessed me and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

I picked up my two sets of luggage and made my way out of the door, finding Thomas standing against his car the whole time with a cheesy grin on his face.

“About time princess” He teased.

“It hasn’t even been five minutes Mr. Shelby!” I scoffed and gave my luggage to him.

He gently placed it in the back of the car and opened up my passenger door for me. I got close to his face and placed a soft kiss upon his cheek that made him turn crimson red. “Thank you Mr. Shelby” I smiled and got into the car.

Maybe I did need a break.

[elliebyrrdwrites]

17.4

This story has hit me HARD today.

DRACO

From where they stood, Draco could see Fiadh standing outside of her tent. She was smoking a cigarette and watching several children run around the fire in the middle of their campsite.

Her eyes kept glancing out to the trees beyond their perimeter, as if scanning them for danger. As if she had sensed them.

As he and Harry moved into sight, he could feel the cool sharp gaze of the gypsy witch on them. She didn’t flinch as they began to approach her, stepping through the wards of the camp without harm, Draco marveled at the way her eyes appeared deadened. And he knew it was because she had suffered a loss that no mother should. She had suffered the kind of devastation that robbed one of their will to live, of any hope of finding joy ever again.

Still, he knew she had answers for them. And so he would press her until he was blue in the face. Because, in his gut, he knew there was something here. Soemthing with these gypsies that would give him some answers.

“It’s you two again.” Fiadh said as they stepped up to her, dodging several of the children who were running and screaming at each other in Gaelic.

Harry spoke first. “It is. You took off before we could talk again.”

“How did you find us?”

Draco’s lifted a brow at her and watched as she lifted the cigarette to her lips. She took a long, deep pull from it. She held it in.

“We stopped by your campsite the other day.” Draco said, ignoring her question. “Did you happen to leave anything behind?”

Harry sighed. But Fiadh exhaled, staring at Draco through the billow of smoke that wafted up and into the air around them before dissipating into nothing but odor.

“You found him, then?” She frowned and tossed her cigarette to the damp dirt at her feet before stomping on it.

“We did.” Draco nodded and glanced around the camp. There were no men visible. Only two other women who were standing near their own tents. There were at least a dozen children outside. There might have been more inside of the tents.

“Do you know who he was?”

She nodded. “Matthew Muphy.” She nodded to a young boy with sandy blonde hair. He looked to be about four or five. They watched as he picked up a rock and threw it at one of the stray dogs. “That’s his son.” She paused. Her eyes turned glassy as she watched the rock miss the dog. He picked up another and tried again. This time it landed close enough to cause the dog to whine and jump away before bolting into the woods. “My grandson.”

Harry stilled beside him. “You mean, Matthew and Belinda...?”

Fiadh nodded, solemnly. “He’s just lost both his mum and his dad.”

Draco and Harry exchanged a look before he spoke. “How did Matthew die?”

Fiadh looked at Harry and shook her head. “I don’t know. We found him like that in the morning. I assume that devil in the grass finally got to him.

“This devil....” Draco began. “Have you seen what it looks like?”

“No,” She sighed. “We just know that it’s there. It crawls around and always stays hidden in the brush.”

“Could you tell us more about Matthew?” Harry pressed. “Did he start to behave differently within the last year?”

Fiadh stared at her grandson as he joined the other children playing a game of tag. “Matthew was a good man to my Belinda.” She nodded to the tent’s to her left.

“Did he ever spend time away from the camp?”

“Aye.” She nodded. “He was aserious man. Always working. He made whatever money he could and was always out hunting or fishing.” She paused, her eyes squinting as she seemed to be considering something.

“What is it?” Harry asked gently.

“He would sometimes leave for several days. But he always came back with food or money. He always took care of his family.”

“Is Matthew the one who reported Belinda missing?”

Draco was less gentle with his questioning. “Why didn’t you tell us about their relationship or her son when we came by to talk to you? Why didn’t anyone tell us when you reported her missing?”

“Because your lot aren’t the most trustworthy.” Her words held a bitter edge, though they were still quite subdued.

“Our lot?” Draco asked with just a hint of disgust.

“Yes, your lot.” She coughed and it was ragged and wheezy. “Your ministry people are all the same. Always nosing about. Always trying to get ahold of our men and our children. Now, look at us!” She flung a hand toward the children playing in the dirt, her lone family member sitting in the mud. “All of our men are gone. Matthew was the last of them and now he’s dead. Belinda’s dead, Cara is gone and now we’re Struggling to raise all of these children that will. Surely. One day disappear, too!”

Draco blinked at her before shooting a look of disbelief over at Harry. Harry looked disturbed. The corners of his mouth were brackets of tension, his eyes distant as he nodded.

“I’m sorry about all that you’ve been through, Fiadh.” His tone was gentle, soothing. “But I promise you, all Auror Malfoy and I want is to catch the man responsible. “Your daughter and Cara Walsh are not the only victims. We have loved ones who fit the killers victim profile.”

“Aye,” fiadh nodded and she ran th back of her hand across her nose. “I know that now. But I didn’t know it then.”

“How did you figure it out?” Draco asked.

She looked at him, really looked at him. Her eyes latched onto his, they penetrated deeply.

“I can feel it.”

Feel what, he wanted to ask but he was transfixed by the intensity of her stare. The way it seemed to peel away some layers behind his iris’, behind the windows to his soul.

“You’ve been touched by death but you have been touched by something. Inch stronger.”

Love. She didn’t have to say it. Draco knew. He just didn’t understand how she could have gathered that and their worth.

Again, she answered him without his questions voiced. “It’s in the eyes, dear.” She smiled at him, it was a a sad smile with no joy. No happiness. Only a sort of pity. Draco was getting tired of seeing those pitying looks.

“Do you mind if we ask just a few more questions, Fiadh?” Harry asked, pulling her away from Draco.

She nodded.

“How did Belinda meet Matthew?”

“They grew up together.” She nodded to the group of children. “Raised together by me and the other women.”

“Did they always get along?”

“Oh, yes.” A ghost of a smile pulled at the corners of her lips. It was only for a microsecond. But it was there. “Matthew adored her, of course and Belinda was certain that she was going to marry him. Of course, there was a time when she almost didn’t.”

“Why’s that?”

“Belinda met a man from town when she was about 15. One of those dark and mysterious types.” Her eyes flicked over Draco. “You know the kind.”

Draco frowned at her. Was she insinuating that he was the type?

Harry cleared his throat, apparently agreeing with her. “What happened between them?”

“They had a bit of a whirlwind romance. Belinda wanted to bring him with us, threatened to run away with him if we didn’t let her.”

“What happened between them?” Harry asked, his eyes glancing to Draco. Something unspoken passed between them, an instinct. They were on the same page, getting the same feeling.

“We had to leave, rather abruptly. Cara disappeared just after a fight she had with the elders.”

There was creeping sensation starting to trickle over Draco. Something about the man Fiadh described cause the hairs on his arm to stand. It caused that damn pit in his stomach to twist. He had instincts, somehow, he just knew.

“Do you know what his name was?” Draco asked.

“Moore.”

“What?” Harry squinted at her, as if she had said something in a foriegn language.

“His name was Moore. I don’t know if that was his first name or his last name. But that was what he went by. That is what Belinda called him.”

Harry looked at Draco, and they silently communicated their agreement to show her the photo they had obtained from the Jane Doe casefile he had stolen from the muggles.

“Could you take a look at this for us?” Draco reached into his coat and produced the photo. He held it out for Fiadh.

Her expression said it all before Draco could ask her to identify the golden haired woman.

“Cara,” Fiadh rasped her name. Said it as tears slipped silently down her cheeks.

“That’s Cara Walsh.”

Draco pulled the photograph back, and quickly tucked it into his pocket. She was in too much pain. It didn’t feel right for him to keep shoving the horrible picture into her face. But there was just one more thing he needed to know. One little thing that might help them narrow their search.

“Do you remember what this Moore gentleman looked like?”

She nodded, her tear filled eyes looking up to Draco and then to Harry, she lifted her chin. “He looked a bit like you, but with brown hair.”

[ometochtli2rabbit]

13.0.12.7.18

lajun[10] ETZ'NAB[flint]/TIJAAX[obsidian] - jun [1] WAYEB

galactic tone: manifestation

sun sign: FLINT| fish/white/north

spend time in reflection and introspection - MAYA

mahtlactli[10] - TECPATL [flint knife]

Tezcatlipoca | Chalchihuitotolin

tecolotl [great horned owl]

lord of the night: Itztli

trecena [10]: Chalchihuitotolin

x: caxtolli [15] - hueicuilhuitl - NAHUA

"Self-portrait", Lois Mailou Jones,1948.

ETZNAB'

A Good Day to:

Avoid jealously and concealment

Let go of the past and move forward

As today's Maya advice is to spend time in reflection and introspection and obsidian was used to make mirrors in the Nahua culture, it is a time to look at oneself. Here are artists and songs that feature my name, JOE:

Dolly Parton: Gypsy Joe and Me

Patti Smith: Hey Joe

Olivia Rodrigo: Deja Vu

Aerosmith (Joe Perry): Sweet Emotion

Paul Wall: Sittin' Sideways

Nicki Minaj: Fractions

Joe Cocker: With A Little Help from My Friends

Jim Reeves: Mexican Joe

House of Pain: Jump Around

Rednex: Cotton Eye Joe

Ice Cube: What They Hittin' Foe?

Jerry Reed: Ko-Ko Joe

Wu-Tang Clan: Protect Ya Neck

Trisha Yearwood ft. Don Henley: Walkaway Joe

Billy Joe Shaver: Squidbillies Theme Song

Joe Jackson: Is She Really Going Out with Him

Bobbie Gentry: Ode to Billy Joe

Van Morrison: Joe Harper Saturday Morning

Pixies: Monkey Gone to Heaven

America: Ventura Highway

The Cult: Resurrection Joe

Joe Walsh: Life's Been Good

Lou Reed: Walk on the Wild Side

Lady Gaga: Cake Like Lady Gaga

Elvis Presley: Stay Away Joe

A Tribe Called Quest: Scenario

Bob Dylan: Diamond Joe

Lords of the Underground: Chief Rocka

Simon and Garfunkel: Mrs. Robinson

Quincy Jones: Killer Joe

Green Day (Billie Joe Armstrong): King for a Day

Harry Belafonte: Hold 'Em Joe

Johnny Cash: Joe Bean & Hank and Joe and Me

Soundgarden: Little Joe

Frank Zappa: Joe's Garage

Bob Seger: Fire Lake

Elton John: Holiday Inn

Labelle: Lady Marmalade

The Clash: Ivan Meets G.I. Joe

Nat King Cole: Joe Turner Blues

Buddy Holly: Smoky Joe's Cafe

Hank Williams: Jambalaya (On the Bayou) & Old Joe Clark

Nirvana: Sliver

David Bowie: Joe the Lio

Jimi Hendrix: Hey Joe

Chuck Berry: Mum's the Word

Ella Fitzgerald: Happiness is a Thing Called Joe

Lana Del Rey: How to Disappear & Wild at Heart

Nina Simone: The Gal from Joe's

Joan Baez: Joe Hill

The Beatles: Riding on a Bus

[nightwingsgypsyrep]

My mum just had a class at work on how to spot a gypsy.

Like I ain’t here having this whole bloody blog.

[newsatsix1986]

Meeting Maria Angelico (our dear Cheryl Ricci) was the most joyous experience. If you think Cheryl is a sweetheart, Maria is even sweeter still! 💖

.

.

As I was about to step into Gypsy Taylor's wardrobe trailer, I turned around and saw Maria bounding over towards me, and she swept me up in the tightest hug, even lifting me off the floor - no easy feat, considering we're the same height! It was the only moment that day I had tears well in my eyes; her warmth was just that overwhelming! I couldn't believe I was meeting Cheryl's actress! The joy this lady exudes is something special, evident in my massive toothy smiles in the photos I share with her! My face is nearly breaking apart with joy!

It was such a wild experience stepping into the makeup trailer and having my hair and makeup touched up, with Maria only two seats away. Yes, our fictional makeup artist was getting hers done by someone else! 😉 If it weren't for Maria, I wouldn't have any photos of Mum and I in the makeup trailer, so I'm incredibly grateful for her asking me to face her phone camera and smile. It's such a lovely memory to hold onto, and shows our lovely makeup artist Megan too!

Maria looked after Mum and I so well during the filming of our scene, as did Caroline Lee too. She constantly came over to ask how we were enjoying the experience, and to check on how we were going. As it was such a hot day, she insisted that we stand in front of the air-conditioning vents to cool down, and made sure we were having plenty of water too.

Maria is known for her behind the scenes photos she takes on set with her 1980s film camera, which I use a lot on this page (much to her delight), and with this in mind, she had a special gift to give me. She handed her camera to Mum, and insisted that I pose for a photo with her, so that I could have a photo of my very own taken on the famous film camera! I got to have a film photo too! She really does know me too well!

Ms Maria, thank you for the magic you sprinkled on this special day for Mum and I. I am so grateful for all the love and support you have given News At Six 1986 for almost three years, and I will cherish these memories that you helped make for me forever. Shine bright, superstar! 🌟

[vivianleighwishesshewasme]

Saying Grace

Tommy and grace visit her family before the wedding. He gets taught what saying grace at dinner means. Now he has a plan. Don't interreact if under 18. Smut

________________________________________________________

Saying Grace

Every experience Tommy had up until then didn’t fail to make him as nervous as this.

Grace's family had invited him to Galloway for an engagement celebration dinner. They were staying three days.

Charlie fussed most of the ride which hadn’t helped Tommy's nerves. Grace had also mentioned that her brothers had fought in the war.

Calvary. He snorted in disapproval. “Fought, when?” was all he said. She hadn't brought it up again. He remembered how useless they’d been during the Somme and Verdun. “The Calvary as as useful as an ashtray on a motorbike, Grace.” She laughed and lightly punched his arm. The analogy amused him too. He’d have to remember to tell John that one.

Grace, Charlie and Tommy had just gotten settled into the large manor house twice the size as his in the countryside. Grace's mum had burst into the room to hold the baby. She didn’t say two words to Tommy but he could understand her wanting to see her first grandchild from her only daughter.

The day dragged on not getting any less awkward. He tried staying out of the way just enjoying wandering around looking at the family history. He really only cared about one person's background if he was being honest.

He’d loved to see Grace's old dolls, ribbons and various accolades from school. He always knew she was highly intelligent. He loved seeing paintings and portraits of her growing up. His favorite had been her horse pictures. She’d never told him she showed horses and rode. He was so proud to call her his.

And he’d been right. She was a posh girl.

“You haven’t stopped smiling since we got here. Trying to uncover my deepest darkest secrets?” She whispered seductively in his ear and she wrapped her arms around him from behind.

He chuckled and reached behind him holding her closer.

“I love seeing these awards and portraits of your accomplishments. You never tell me these things Grace.” His voice was deep but calm. He was in her personal space. He was at home.

“It's not polite to brag about them and honestly it was so long ago.” she mussed and grinned, rocking them both side to side to only music she could hear. The fact that she’d won a singing competition for all of Ireland was the most impressive accolade in her collection.

“We’ll for what it's worth. I’m proud.” He bent his head to the side and placed a kiss on her temple.

“Thank you.” She blushed and kissed his jaw. A sharp knock at the door and an announcement for dinner pulled them away from each other, at least for now.

____________________________________________________________________

Dinner was interesting. He was getting used to the high life at his manor but he swore some of the Calvary members of her family were going above and beyond to make him uncomfortable.

Little barbs about Birmingham streets, gypsy living and silly things here and there. Nothing Thomas hadn’t ever heard before. It was annoying that they lacked creativity to their insults honestly.

Dinner was served and everyone but him and of course the baby bowed their heads.

“Tommy, we have to pray.” Grace's mother closed her eyes, bowed her head and held her hands out for everyone to join with the person next to them. He raised an eyebrow and closed his eyes while smiling because Grace glared at him.

“Don't know how the gypsies do it but we call it saying Grace.” James, Grace’s annoying little brother who had missed out on the war by a year had to pipe up.

“It's done before every meal.” Her grandmother spoke next. Tommy hoped Grace's eyes were closed. He tried clearing his throat but a laugh escaped instead. She squeezed his hand tighter as a warning.

He laughed out loud and tried not to stifle it but he couldn't help himself. He has to explain why later…or rather show her why it was so funny.

“I’m sorry, go ahead and say Grace.” He cleared his throat again and closed his eyes lost in his thoughts

_____________________________________________________________

“I’m sorry about dinner.” He stood watching her sit on her bed unbuckling her dinner shoes. She tossed them into the closet and sat back grinning at him.

“Tommy, why did you laugh before prayer? I know you aren't a protestant or catholic but…I'm confused.” Her eyes darted around his face trying to understand. It was out of character for him.

“We’ll posh girl, I have an answer to that, but I told you I'd have to show you.” He grinned wickedly at her as she stood before her and spread her legs to stand in between them. He bent down, getting on his knees in front of her.

They both knew what was coming next.

Tommy grabbed her hips and pulled her toward him. She twisted so she could unhook her garters to help him. His strong calloused hands reached up and pulled down her panties. He didn’t need to remove anything else.

He kissed and nipped at her inner thighs to her knees. He was teasing her but he loved to get her worked up. It was worth the rush of pleasure for her. He didn’t care about himself at this point. This was all for her.

“Oh, I forgot.” Tommy pulled back and closed his eyes.

“What are you doing Tommy?” Grace's tone was laced with confusion. Was he praying!?

“I have to say grace right, that's what a proper man does before a meal.” They both chuckled but her eyes danced with desire. She should have known why he laughed at dinner. His humor and quick wit was stunningly quick.

He licked, sucked and ate her thoroughly until she came screaming and panting his name like a prayer.

“Oh God, Tommy.” He pulled back satisfied with his work. His smirk made her wet all over again. She knew they weren’t done for the night.

“Now, that's a prayer I would mean and happily get on my knees for penance.” He laughed and stood, leaning over top of her he bent down and let her taste herself on his tongue.

She eagerly rose up to meet his passionate kiss. Her hands undid the buttons to his vest and slipped it down, tossing it somewhere by the foot of her childhood bed.

He never broke the kiss as he unbuttoned his shirt tossing it where she decided their clothes were going. She quickly stripped him of his pants as he pulled off her dress. He didn’t care if it was ripped. She could afford another one. They were both almost animalistic at this point. Her nails gently drug down his back only to leave harder nips and love bites on his neck and shoulders. She even bit his lip at one point pulling him in closer. He of course had to lean in and deepen the kiss.

His thrusts were building up and getting more erratic. She crested into the orgasm just before he did.

Maybe being here wasn’t such a bad thing he thought as they both rolled over into one another breathing heavily.

Not if he could use her family's words to defile her in her bedroom for the next few days.

_________END_________________________________