#Winston Cup Series

[justahillbillyfromouterspace]

just watched 1986 Winston Cup race from Richmond today was cool Earnhardt was pissed at Waltrip dumped him and wrecked himself so Kyle Petty won hahahahaaa

Chevrolet Lumina

[captainfreelance1]

DeviantArt Description- A Winner Down Under

'February 28, 1988

Calder Park Thunderdome, Melbourne, Victoria, Australia

Pipe Fitter turned NASCAR Driver Neil Bonnett is about to make history, by becoming first man to win a NASCAR race outside the North American continent; He is a member of a fabled group friends known as 'The Alabama Gang' this group is comprised of fellow drivers Bobby Allison, Donnie Allison and Red Farmer, whose careers like his began on the Alabama Dirt and Short Track scene before reaching the ranks of NASCAR.

Calder Park Raceway was the vision of Australian Businessman Bob Jane, who seeks too bring superspeedway excitement to the Land Down Under; Jane promotes this new track and manages to convincing the American based NASCAR into holding their first ever overseas exhibition race, with the finest race car drivers of both the United States of America and the Commonwealth of Australia to participate.

Neil Bonnett driving the Rahmoc Enterprises No. 75 Valvoline sponsored Pontiac Grand Prix, accepts the challenge realizing the rare opportunity that lays ahead of him; Neil remains calm and cool the under pressures placed upon him by the new track and the unforgiving heat, he has won a number races before this including one at Richmond the before week; He dominates field leading several laps holding off friend and rival Bobby Allison, Bonnett handles the car with the ease of a relaxing Sunday drive thorough his native Hueytown; Neil's patience pays off as the checkered flag drops he scores his first and only win on foreign soil, thus making him a rare back to back winner on two separate continents.'

[opsbritney]

BRITNEY SPEARS The Nascar Winston Cup Series Pepsi 400 in Daytona (2001)

[pedge-page]

Joel dealing with Preggo Wife # 7: House Pet

Can be read with others in series or standalone

Warnings: unprotected sex, slight Daddy kink, suggestive of oral M receiving, annoying reader and annoyed Joel

18 + ONLY

- - - -

You watch one depressing commercial of shivering dogs left emaciated in the cold begging for love and care, and all the water in your entire body comes flooding out in tears.

“J-j-j"—snUFFF—“JOeeeOEeeeoelllLLLL!!!" You wail, wiping your snot on his shirt sleeve while curled up against him. “THEY NWEEEDDD MWEEEEE!!!!”

“You wanna donate?”

N-d—nooo--“sniffle—“wanna -wa-wanna aa-ad-ad-opt—“

He chuckles like its some obvious joke, but when he sees the absolute shine in your giant eyes staring pleadingly at him, he puts his foot down as gently as possible: “Honey, we can’t have a dog right now. With you—being like this, and a baby on the way, I’ve got enough on my plate as is. Wanna make sure you and babygirl are well taken care of first, okay?”

There’s a tense silence hanging in the air as you seize a breath in your throat. 

And then you’re LOSING IT, whining and crying like a child into his face.

“Jesus,” he mumbles softly, gently stroking your hair, hushing little shhhhh into your forehead and rocking you in his arms like a baby in a cradle— a giant baby stuffed with another baby currently rattling the emotions of the big baby.

 He's given you a cup of water for bed and tucking you in, picking up the litany of tissues tossed around you, while you refuse to quit your puffy eye’d and endless barrage of tears. 

By the next morning, swollen lids yet calm, he thought he’d heard the last of it last night. And you were doing much better mood wise—no cries, though a little cold shoulder to him. He gives you a few hours till you’re over it and asking for ice cream like nothing happened. 

Until now, five days later where every minute is just a retort to his face about getting a dog.

When you best friend comes over to give you extra baby clothes:

"Aww your girl named her puppy Winston? That's so adorable! Joel, ya hear that??” You peak loudly so he can hear from the kitchen. “Too bad I don’t have a puppy named Winston.”

"When you have our daughter, she can get a puppy named Winston"

"Oh! Already picking her over me for getting a dog?"

He rolls his eyes, tuning out to focus on making you biscuits that are too salty so you’ll have something else to whine about.

-

During movie night:

“…If only I had a dog to help keep my feet warm on the couch.”

He shovels a fist full of popcorn into his tilted back, wide mouth. “‘At’s what a blanket’s for.” he yanks your favorite soft one over your toes and keeps his eyes on the TV.

-

To the neighbor that just fucking moved in two weeks ago:

"Joel doesn't kiss me enough. If I had a dog, I wouldn't complain as much since the pup would love me unconditionally."

He grits his teeth, excusing himself to the bathroom.

-

At Tommy’s place for a Sunday BBQ:

“Bought the wood second hand—I re constructed our living room myself,” he says braggingly, drawing a beer from the cooler.

"Yeah, Tommy, it’s real nice.” You charm, and you can already see Joel's fist clench at his side. “Would look even better with a dog in the window."

-

“Wish I had a fluffy dog to cuddle instead of your big ass."

-

"My husband spoils me so much. He usually gets me anything I want without asking! Unless it's a dog ..."

-

Joel finishing adding furniture to the baby room.

"You know what else this room could use?” 

"A dog bed, a dog blanket, a dog.”

-

"If you say-one more-god damn thing-about the dog..." he huffs.

"What dog? We don't even have a dog."

"We don't-need one. Got a cat in the house already."

He thrusts in again with a grunt, your trail of thought disappearing for a second just as Joel’s fat cock penetrates you.

 The two of you are lying sideways on the bed, his chest pressed flush against your back. With your leg just barely propped up with his masculine arm hooked under your knee, a hand splayed protectively over your big belly, he has enough room to slot his length into your achy sopping cunt, slowly fucking you with harsh little jolts. You grip the back of his neck, fingers clutched in his sweaty locks, feeling his hot breath dampening your collar. 

He lets out a pained hiss. “This lil pussy right here is all the animal I can handle now. Now quit it.”

His hips begin to crash lightly over your ass, rutting his tip deeper into you with muffled slaps. He loves the sight of your now largely grown thighs jiggling with each impact. Loves the feeling of your swollen breasts suffocating his other hand. Loves the knowledge of his wife so stuffed full of him for everyone to see. 

You moan lightly, clenching around him at the leisure, unhurried yet pent up pleasure coursing through you. But your mind wonders again. “If you don't want a rescue we can get a certain breed: How about a malnoise? Or something smaller like a corgi? Or aussie. Oh Pitties are so cute!"

He rolls his eyes, nose buried in your hair. How are you even able to have a coherent conversation right now while he's rearranging your guts? Rather than hushing you with another quit it, he decides to entertain you. "Jesus woman. Ain't pitties all mean?"

"Nooooo —mmm baby, right there—“ you whine, panting in sync as you lowly try to hump him back. “Protective, intimidating looking.” You smile, mouth agape and eyes closed when he hits that sweet spot deep inside.  “Just—like you, big ol sweethearts…Who give their wives exactly what they fucking want—like a dog."

“Christ.” The hand from under your leg glides over your wet clit, his rough digits rubbing fast circles while his other free arm  unfolds from under your throat to grip it lightly. His knees bend so he can rock just his hips with ferocious power, railing with the intent to fuck you so dumb, you can’t help but shut up. “One more peep and I'm switching us up and gonna fuck you like one.”

You really didn’t want to —resorting to this lounging position because your back hurt too much to be fucked doggy, and the baby weighed too heavily to ride him. Thank God his cock was fucking huge—it could reach deep into you at any position. No fucking wonder you got pregnant so easily. 

“no- no Daddy, I'll be good," you hum. "Unfff—mmm-yeah—yeah! Fuuuck—fuck me baby that’s it!” You shout. Joel’s hand works endlessly on your little nub, now at the mercy of his ministrations to get you off since you can’t reach yourself anymore. You grip your belly and cry, walls convulsing around his meat with a much needed orgasm. Joel follows suit not too long after, biting your shoulder as his hips still against your ass, pumping you full of his pearly cum.

The two of you stay in the same position, breathing heavily as you come down from your respective highs. 

His eyes close, breath slowing and getting deeper in relaxation as his fingers lightly dance over your swole bump.

You feel the gentle cooling breeze of the fan spinning above you. Sighing contently now filled with your husband’s love and caressed with his tender hands. 

 “…So I was thinking, when we get a dog..."

"WE ARE NOT GETTIN’ A DOG AND THAT’S FINAL."

-

Tommy comes over and can tell something is up between you two.  When Joel leaves the room, he asks "so what is it this week with Joel?"

"He won't get me--what do you mean THIS week??"

"Nothing nothing, he won't get you a what?"

"A dog. I want a dog. He doesn’t want a dog. So I don’t understand why he can’t compromise and get a dog.”

He laughs. “Honey, cuz that’s not a compromise. You know why he won't get you one, right?"

"Cuz he doesn't want to take care of me, a baby, and the dog at the same time"

"Nah. He's worried you'll only want the dog’s affection, and the baby gets the rest of your attention. Then you won’t have anything left for him.”

“…Oh!"

-

Later that night, Joel is still steaming from your earlier conversation after sex, having no regard for listening to another thing you had to say the rest of the day. You waddle into the bedroom, looking apologetic as possible with your hands held behind your back. He only looks up from the bed to see you: in his large T shirt with nothing else, freshly lavender scented from your bath, and big pleading child-like eyes full of sorrow. He purses his lips before returning to his book, glasses perched on his nose.

You approach Joel with an apology gift that you hid behind your back: a stuffed wolf.

He smiles gently unable to even pretend to hold his temper against you. you kiss the tip of his nose as he caresses your smoothed bump. “You're my favorite dog anyway,” you say warmly. “Needy. Grumpy. Likes food. Gives me kisses."

“Thought I didn’t give ya enough kisses? Least that’s what you told neighbor.”

“That was—a lie.” You bat your eyes cutely. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“Mmmm,” is all he says, his eyes raking over your curves just barely covered now due to your size. “I don’t know, Daddy might need more apologies — ya did treat me real bad this week.”

You hum sadly, nuzzling yourself against his chest. your hand trails down his firm middle, all the way to the growing tent sticking up from his boxers.

“I can lick it better,” you whisper seductively in his ear, nipping at his pulse point.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

And after one of your famous deep throated blow job with Joel's balls happily emptied in your already full belly, he leans over to his side table and pulls the drawer open, holding something tight in his hand.

You just barely stop yourself from falling asleep with your head on his lap when he dangles a dog collar above your head. You sit up, inspecting it with grubbing hands: it has your home address etched on to the metal plate, but no name on it. 

“What you want me to be your dog? I’ll wear the collar but I’m not getting on my knees, nor crawling around and drinking from dog bowls  and shitting in the yard—“

“No angel,” he shushes you. Although the image of you wearing the collar, naked and heavily pregnant on your knees in front of him wasn’t a bad idea at all…he shakes his head from the delusion. ”Aint for you. Thought about it—but ONLY after have the baby and are settled, and ya know IF —and that’s a mighty big if—we find one that’s not too rough shape, got a good sense about ‘im, then MAYBE I’ll consider it.”

"Oh my god! Thank you! Thankyouthankyou--"

"I said IF sweetheart. Got along road ahead till then."

"I'll give you as many blow jobs as you want."

"You already do that for yourself."

"Yeah but... how about I sit on your face? Fully?"

His ears perk up. "Yeah?"

"After the baby is born," you quip, smirking with more confidence then your swollen body can muster trying to wiggle away from his grasp like a devious chubby oompa lumpa. He just laughs to himself as you slip down the bed, and the sudden urge to pee has you B-lining to the bathroom.

- - - -

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[peakyswritings]

Heart, Body and Soul || Tommy Shelby x OC

PART VI

Summary: After the events of the previous day, Tommy and Nina are forced to come to terms with a truth they have refused to acknowledge for far too long.

Warnings: mentions of arranged marriage, slow-burn, small age-gap (Tommy’s 30, Nina is in her early 20s), time-typical misogyny, mentions of attempted assault, no proofreading, English is not my first language. This is set between season 1 and 2.

A/N: like in the last chapter, there are some dialogues which are supposed to be in Italian, which I chose to write in English for the sake of the readers (and mine, ‘cause otherwise I should’ve translated lots of stuff). In this case, it is the second dialogue between Nina and her mother. I’m sorry for the long wait, and thank you for bearing with me!

PREVIOUS PART

SERIES MASTERLIST

Gif credit

Dividers credit

The first light of the morning filtered through the lace curtains of the kitchen window, bathing the room in a warm glow. Holding a cup of coffee in her hands, Nina stared into space, the events of the night before repeatedly playing in her mind. Tommy’s touch still lingered against her cheek, hesitant and tender as he touched her with a gentleness she had never known before. A gentleness that made her lean even closer, eager to feel more of the bare brushing of their lips, that made her wonder what it would feel like if she allowed herself to melt into him. His strong body seemed like a safe space, like something steady and reliable. But that warm, unfamiliar feeling was soon replaced by the blast of cold that suddenly hit her when he moved away.

How could she have been so stupid?

She had let her emotions get the best of her, and humiliated herself for nothing. It wasn’t him that she wanted. What she wanted was to get rid of the skin-crawling feeling that Stefano’s hands had left on her, so she had clung to the first person who had offered her a hint of safety and comfort. What a fool she had been, for forgetting that the only person who could ever bring her safety and comfort was herself. For letting Stefano mess her up once again. It was all a game of power to him, he had played her like a pawn, and she had fallen for it. Because Stefano did what he did to let her know that he could do everything he wanted to her, if he just decided to. With the blood boiling in her veins, she promised to herself she wouldn’t let him hold that much power over her, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of making her cave. She’d go on as if nothing happened, but without forgetting what he did. And when the right time came, she’d make him regret ever daring to lay his filthy hands on her. He had tormented her for years, tried to force her into a marriage, scared and threatened her in her own home, a place where she was supposed to be safe. He would pay for that.

“Sei già sveglia?” (You’re up already?)

Her mother’s voice pulled Nina out of her thoughts, and only then did she realise how tight her hold around the cup’s handle had become. She loosened her grip, a sigh escaping her lips as the pain of her own nails digging in her palm eased. Sinking lower in her seat, she fixed her gaze upon a crack in the wooden table, well aware that she couldn’t escape Maria Ferrante’s ever-observant eye. “Sono andata a letto presto, ieri.” (I went to bed early, yesterday.)

The older woman walked further into the kitchen, squinting her eyes as if she had spotted something. Still carefully avoiding her gaze, Nina watched her get closer from under her lashes, until she stopped right in front of her. She let out a groan as her mother took ahold of her chin to get a better look at her face. “Che hai in faccia?” (What’s that?)

Nina gulped, her mind trying to find an excuse for the scratch that Stefano had left when he had dug his fingernails in her cheek. “È stato Winston,” she professed, turning her head to free herself from her mother’s grip. (It was Winston.)

The woman mumbled some curses towards the poor animal that, for once, was actually innocent.

“È stata colpa mia,” Nina quickly added. “L’ho fatto arrabbiare.” (It was my fault, I made him angry.)

Maria Ferrante pursed her lips in disapproval, and a frown appeared on those once beautiful features, which had started to wither way too soon under the weight of the years and of a life devoted to caring for others and never herself.

Nina had to restrain herself from breathing a sigh of relief when her mother walked over to the cupboard, letting the matter drop. But as she watched her bustling about to make breakfast for everyone, she was overwhelmed by a mounting sense of unease. It was a familiar feeling, one that had been accompanying her for as long as she could remember, yet she had never been able to figure it out. It usually rose without warning, making her head spin, sending her into a state of distress that made her feel physically sick, and she got the impression there was something deeply wrong with her life. After years of dealing with it, she had found a pattern, and she had realised that most of the times - although not always - it was connected to her mother.

All her life, Nina had feared to become like her. Always silent, always compliant as she let her husband and sons treat her like a slave, pretending not to notice the way they unconsciously looked down on her - because she was not clever, she was ignorant, she wasn’t even able to read or write. She was a wife and a mother before being a person. They loved her, but they loved her like something that belonged to them. And deep down, Nina knew she was loved the same way.

She knew the opinion they had of her was not that distant from the one they had of her mother. It didn’t matter that she had finished school, it didn’t matter how much she kept on studying and learning on her own, it didn’t matter how much she tried to prove that she was capable. She was always a woman. That limitation was the wall the stood between her and the world, and the more she tried to climb over it or walk around it, the taller and wider it grew.

To some extent, in her family, Nina was already her mother.

Standing in front of the mirror in the room that had become his in the last couple of weeks, Tommy straightened his tie, his gaze scanning his whole figure to make sure nothing was out of place. His face was freshly shaved, his suit neatly pressed, his shoes polished. The only jarring note were the purple shadows under his eyes, proof of a sleepless night. Ever since he had left Nina’s room, he had been tormented by a strange feeling of restlessness. He had hardly closed his eyes, his mind relentlessly circling around everything that had been happening in the last month, and everything that was to come. But in that endless vortex, one thought emerged above all others. How was she?

The question nagged at him, making it impossible for him to shift his attention on any other subject. From the moment he had met her, Nina had seemed to him an unbreakable force. She was fierce, and untamable, with a fire in her eyes mighty enough to burn whole cities to the ground. That was why, when he witnessed her vulnerability, he was almost surprised to see that she, too, could be fragile. But with that fragility came a whole different wilfulness, a stubborn refusal to bend that made her even more ardent. More beautiful. And he wondered how many more sides of herself she kept hidden.

Almost a month had passed since his arrival in Sicily, and during time, she had slowly made her way into his head, clouding his judgment. Because he knew he shouldn’t be thinking about her, not when he was courting her cousin. Not when the decision had been made. But the events of that day had put him in front of a truth he had refused to acknowledge, a truth that made him feel something too close to fear.

Last last night more than ever, he couldn’t take his mind off her, off her scent, off the feeling of her soft hair brushing against his skin. Did she have any idea how hard it had been for him to pull away? That he had only left her room because otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to restrain himself any longer? That, had she been in a less vulnerable position, he wouldn’t have hesitated to do what every cell in his body was begging him to do?

Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to compose himself. There was no need to make things more difficult than they already were. He opened the drawer of his bedside table, revealing the velvety box that had been closed there for far too long. He reached for it and opened it to take a look at the ring he had bought along the necklace he had gifted Agnese a few weeks earlier, when he had declared his intention to marry her. The big diamond ring seemed to stare back at him, and his stomach clenched at the thought that it was time to do what he was expected to do. He snapped the box shut and placed it in the inside pocket of his jacket, telling himself there was no point in dwelling on things that had no chance to exist.

As he headed downstairs, the sound of Nina’s voice came to his ears, and his nerves started tingling with anticipation. How would she act, now? How was he supposed to act? Should he ask her how she was, or should he pretend nothing had happened, just like she had told him?

He could tell there was a whole story behind what had happened with Stefano the previous day, one that he wasn’t aware of, and part of him wanted to ask her. The other part, however, feared that she might close off again, and that all the steps forward that they had taken would be erased, taking them back to where they had started.

Before Tommy could cross the living room, Nina came out of the kitchen, too lost in thought to notice him, at first. But once she did, she stopped in her tracks, and an unreadable expression spread over her features. For the next few seconds, they just looked at each other in complete silence, waiting for the other to say something. The small scratch on her face caught his eye, suddenly taking him back to last night, when he had ran his knuckle over it with a softness he didn’t know he possessed, when he had got the impression that her cheek had been made just to fit perfectly in the palm of his rough hand. How close she had been…

“Good morning.” Nina’s voice harshly brought him back to reality, and it was like a bucket of cold water had been poured over him.

Tommy cleared his voice, struck by an odd feeling of guilt for indulging further in those thoughts. “Morning,” he murmured, recollecting himself. He had to remember where he was, and where his priorities stood. But it was so hard when the warmth of her body so close to his was imprinted on him, and when he could still feel the way her lips had barely brushed against his.

“I’m having lunch at Agnese’s house today,” he blurted out before he could think about what he was saying. And maybe his words had some kind of effect on her, but she was so quick to hide it that he figured he had probably imagined it.

Nina nodded, hoping that whatever she was feeling in that moment wasn’t written all over her face. She wasn’t even sure what it was that she was feeling, she just knew that she didn’t like it. And that it wasn’t right.

Tommy was going to propose.

That awareness knocked the air out of her lungs, and she cursed herself for feeling like that. It was wrong. And she had no right. She had to get a grip and take control of those emotions, before they irreversibly took control of her. Tommy’s icy stare seemed to be piercing right through her, making it impossible for her to focus and formulate some coherent sentence. Fucking blue eyes.

“Good,” it was all she could manage to utter.

Another heavy silence fell down upon them, and the words they really wanted to say - the words they didn’t even have the courage to tell themselves - were left hanging in the air, where they would vanish, sooner or later. Because the things left unsaid would never be real.

In the late afternoon, sitting at the kitchen table, Nina tried to keep herself busy by reading a book, but the words seemed to vanish right in front of her eyes one by one. She was too agitated to read. According to what her brothers had told her before leaving the house earlier that day, the men of the family were currently holding a meeting Tommy Shelby at Agnese’s house. They had mentioned something about Sabini and the next moves, but she had only half-listened to them, her mind occupied by something else entirely. Looking out the window, she glanced at the house on the opposite side of the shared garden, the urge to know what was happening inside it growing with each moment that passed.

“He hasn’t proposed.” Maria Ferrante stormed into the kitchen, carrying a basket full of freshly-picked figs.

Nina blinked, her train of thoughts interrupted by her mother for the second time that day. “What?”

“Mr Shelby hasn’t proposed to Agnese,” she clarified, placing the basket on the table with a thud. Under her daughter’s disconcerted stare, she took some of the figs and walked over to the sink to wash them with hasty, agitated movements. “The poor girl’s desperate, she thinks she has done something wrong.”

It took Nina more than a moment to process her mother’s words, but once she did, it took her way less to realise what that might mean. For her, for Agnese, for the future of her family. As her mind began to race in an all too familiar way, her eyes quickly scanned the room in search for something to focus on in order not to slip into the whirlpool of scattered thoughts, but the clatter caused by the older woman’s fumbling with the cutlery only added to the frenzied state of her brain. Her heart pounded in her chest, drumming in her ears, and she found herself jiggling her leg up and down to ease the tension. Finally, her attention was grabbed by the clock hanging on the wall, and in the second hand her restless gaze found something to hold on to. With each second that passed, her heart decreased its speed and the noise in her mind quietened, bringing her some relief. Closing her eyes, she exhaled a breath, glad to be back in control of herself. “This whole thing was a mistake,” she mumbled, shaking her head.

Even though she was facing away from her mother, Nina could tell she had halted, because the fuss suddenly stopped. “What do you mean?” She asked, but before her daughter had the chance to answer, she placed a plate with some figs cut in half in front of her. “Eat.”

At first, Nina scrunched her nose, sure that the mere sight of food would be enough make her stomach turn. Ever since the events of the previous day, it had been too knotted up for her to feel hungry. However, as soon as the delicious smell of the fruits filled her nostrils her appetite awoke, and she was quick to take a bite. The sweet pulp melted on her tongue, and the sensation almost made her forget what she was about to say. “I mean,” she spoke again after eating the first piece. “That it isn’t the Shelbys we should’ve tried to form an alliance with.”

Her mother’s eyebrows shot upwards, and a disapproving expression made its way on her face. “These things are not our concern,” she reproachfully pointed a finger at her daughter, sitting on a chair in front of her. “Your father and your uncles are doing-”

“They’re doing all the wrong things.” Nina interrupted her, slightly raising her voice. “And it is our concern. It’s our life, we should have a say in it.”

“Your father knows what’s best for this family.”

“Does he?”

Maria Ferrante crossed her arms over her chest, averting her eyes from her daughter’s, and the silence that followed gave Nina the chance to go on. “This was a mistake, you know it too,” she added, lowering her voice again. “You might fool dad by pretending you know nothing about this business, but you can’t fool me.”

A strange glimpse crossed her mother’s eyes at her words, but it didn’t last more than an instant. Her features hardened again, and it was like that subtle, ephemeral emotion had never been there. “What I think is not important.”

This time, it was Nina who chose not to reply. It was useless, after all. Her mother had spent her whole life convinced that all she was born to do was to take care of someone else, without ever being able to make a single decision for herself, or voice her thoughts, and that conviction was too deeply rooted inside her to be eradicated.

“You’re a lucky girl, Nina. You shouldn’t forget that.” Maria leaned over the table, looking her daughter right in the eyes. “Take a look around you. You have a big, nice house with a big, nice garden, and a room you can call your own. You have never known misery, nor hunger,” she paused, her gaze becoming absent, as if getting lost in some old memory. She then leaned back in her chair, staring at a point in front of her. “It feels like bites. Hunger, I mean.”

Nina shifted uncomfortably in her seat, letting those words sink in. Although her mother’s stark expression gave nothing away, she sensed that some old, unforgotten pain was begging to be acknowledged, and she could almost feel that pain as if it were her own.

Coming back to her senses, Maria fixed her eyes on her daughter again, her gaze displaying a fierceness that appeared almost odd on her face. “You don’t know it. You haven’t even known it during the war. That’s all thanks to your father, and what he does.”

Nina watched quietly as mother got up from her chair, starting to busy herself with what needed tidying up. “He does what he does for us. Be grateful, and don’t question his decisions.” Her voice took on a stern tone, one that brooked no arguments, indicating that the discussion was over. “And eat,” she ordered, nodding toward the plate.

Pouring the tea she had just made in a cup, Nina glanced at the clock. Midnight had passed a long time ago, but once again her brain was keeping her up, preventing her from getting some much needed sleep. She’d had lots of time to think, though, and the long, relaxing bath she had taken had helped her free her mind for a while. She could see things more clearly, now.

Her first fear had been that Tommy might decide to go on with the war, but after pondering the subject, she had come to the conclusion that it wasn’t an option. He had proposed an alliance because he knew he had no chance of winning that war, the attacks to his pubs and his men were the proof. Not to mention that if he were to decide to call everything off he would be killed on the spot. The Peaky Blinder Devil was surrounded by potential enemies, with not a single man by his side, and he had willingly put himself in that position.

Because he was not afraid to die.

That was the answer to all of her questions, the missing piece that had prevented her from fully understanding why her family feared him so much, to the point of not even considering to form an alliance with Sabini instead. Tommy Shelby was not afraid to die, therefore, he had no limitations.

But the more she seemed to be close to figuring him out, the more questions rose, and Nina couldn’t explain why, despite all her efforts not to think about him, her mind was so adamant on trying to unravel the mystery that was Tommy Shelby. She had started because she didn’t trust him, because she wanted to know what his true intentions were, because she wanted to try and anticipate his moves - something that the men of her family seemed to fail at. Now she just couldn’t stop, for what she had found was so far from what she had expected.

She couldn’t explain the deep connection she felt to him, a connection that perhaps had always been there, since the very beginning, when all she seemed to feel for him was spite. Even then, there was something drawing them towards one another, forcing them to keep on bickering and bantering, to look for those apparently insignificant quarrels and challenges. Then there were their secret meetings, those nights where time seemed to stand still, where he wasn’t Tommy Shelby, and she wasn’t Nina Ferrante, and they were almost normal people, and they were allowed to let their masks fall. She remembered every laugh he had drawn from of her with the stories of his childhood, every smile she had managed to coax out of him with her witty retorts. And she had learned he was not a Devil, like everybody called him. Behind his steely glare and the layers of ice that protected him like an armour, he was very much human.

There must’ve been a reason why every night since the first casual encounter they had left their rooms in the hope of just enjoying each other’s company. There must’ve been a reason why their eyes begged to meet every time they were in the same room, and their hands longed for the slightest touch. There must’ve been a reason why she was standing there, hoping he would walk through that door.

But that reason didn’t matter. Because in the light of the day, he was Tommy Shelby, she was Nina Ferrante, and he would marry her cousin. Soon he would go back to Birmingham, and she would stay there, going back to the life she had grown to despise. The seas between them would erase the invisible string that seemed to bind them together, and she would forget how he had made her laugh, how she had made him smile. And it would be as if her soul had never met his.

Nina’s heart increased its speed when she heard the footsteps that had become now familiar to her, and she had to remind herself that night wouldn’t be like the others. She had to push him away, restore the distance between them before it was too late. If they crossed that line, there would be no going back.

Silently, Tommy entered the kitchen. All the spontaneity their relationship had acquired over the weeks was gone, and he was unsure how to behave. He didn’t even know what had brought him there again, after he had told himself he had to stop thinking about her. Maybe the same thing that had kept him from proposing to Agnese.

Nina was standing near the table, pouring her usual awful amount of honey in her steaming cup of tea. Leaning against the doorframe, Tommy allowed himself a moment to admire the way the white cotton of her nightgown brought out her tan skin and dark hair. She seemed off guard, but he knew she was aware of his presence. Once she was done, she gazed at him, and her fiery eyes shone in the dim light, pinning him right where he stood.

“I was thirsty,” he explained after a moment of hesitation, walking further into the room.

Without saying a word, Nina took a glass from one of the cabinets and poured water in it. When she handed it to him, her fingers brushed against his, and shivers of electricity raced across his skin. With the proximity, he was engulfed by the scent of lavender and honey that had been plaguing him in his sleep, making him long for something he could never have.

He would never feel anything like that with Agnese.

Nina took a few steps back, breaking the bubble that formed every time they were close to each other. Tommy tightened his grip around the glass for a second, then placed it on the table. He didn’t need to pretend it hadn’t been just an excuse to see her. He searched for something to say, but Nina beat him to it, and what she said next felt like a stab through his chest.

“You should propose to Agnese.”

She wasn’t even looking at him. She was cold, distant, almost like the day they had met. Taken aback by her sudden statement, Tommy blinked, hoping he had misheard. “What?”

“You’ve been courting her long enough,” she said bitterly.

Nina’s words aroused a certain anger in Tommy, the same anger he felt every time he sensed that his hand was being forced. But it wasn’t just anger, there was something else with that. “It’s not your place to decide-”

“It is my fucking place,” she snapped, finally turning to look at him. “This is my family. And the more we wait, the more we give Sabini the time to act against us.”

Tommy’s expression changed, and all the annoyance she had read moments before on his face gave way to something else. He raised his eyebrows in a mocking way, taking a look around before shifting his gaze on her again. “So you’ve finally admitted it,” he he said, and the shadow of a smug smirk appeared on his face.

“Admitted what?” She seethed.

“That your family needs my family.”

Nina snorted, fighting the urge to slap the smugness out of his face. Even in a serious situation, he couldn’t resist looking for a way to get under her skin.

“That’s not the point,” she argued, averting her eyes from his. “The point is - it’s time to get this over with.” The more she spoke, the harder it became to keep her voice steady, but she did it nonetheless, attempting to sound as convincing as she could. Maybe she’d end up convincing herself as well. “And this…thing that we’re doing,” she paused, the words burning in her throat as she uttered them. “It has to stop.”

Something flashed across Tommy’s features, and Nina instantly regretted addressing the topic. A strange tension fell into the room as his face became serious again.

“This thing,” he emphasised, as if pondering her words. The way his deep voice echoed in the silence of the room awakened something inside her, and heat crept up cheeks. “Tell me,” he squinted his eyes, starting to walk in her direction with slow, measured steps. “What is it that we’re doing?”

The breath hitched in her throat, but Nina stood still in her place, forcing herself to bear his gaze. “Nothing.”

“Nothing,” he repeated, nodding to himself. He took another step forward, looking down at her with a hint of challenge in his eyes, almost daring her to deny what was right in front of them one more time. She was now trapped between his body and the table, and the closeness alone was enough to make his nerves tingle.

“Tommy, please,” she whispered.

God, had she ever called him by his name before? The way it rolled off her lips, along with her intoxicating scent and the feeling of her warm body - too close to ignore it but still too far away to feel it completely - threatened to destroy the last shred of his self-control. It was hanging by a thread, a thread that was about to snap at any given moment.

He tucked an unruly strand of hair that had fallen in front of her face behind her ear, then his large hand travelled down the side of her neck, his thumb gently rubbing against the delicate skin of her throat. She quivered almost imperceptibly, and her eyes lit up in a way that ignited his whole being. And the thread did snap. His hand went to grab the nape of her neck, and he crashed his lips against hers in a desperate, almost harsh kiss.

But it didn’t take Tommy more than a few seconds to regain control of his instincts. He pulled away, sucking in a sharp breath as he was hit by the realisation of what he had just done. His jaw twitched when his gaze met Nina’s wide eyes, and an overwhelming sense of guilt - way more powerful than the one he had felt that morning - started to weigh on his conscience. Then, as if the contact of their skin had burned him, he let his hand fall and took a step back. He tried to utter an apology, but no sound came out of his mouth. For an amount of time that seemed to stretch into eternity, neither of them did anything, and the possibility of having scared her only added to Tommy’s feeling of guilt. But a second glance was enough to realise it wasn’t fear that was painted on Nina’s face. Before he had the chance to say something, she closed the distance between them, grabbing his face to pull him in for another kiss. After the initial surprise, he was quick to wrap his arms around her, bringing her closer, eager to feel every inch of her body pressing against him. Her soft mouth moved against his tenderly, with a bit of hesitation that made his head spin. Their tongues danced together as he took control of the kiss, and he felt like he could melt right there in her arms. And as much as he wanted to restrain himself, to handle her more delicately, he couldn’t. He had waited far too long.

Tommy’s scent invaded Nina’s nostrils, clouding her senses, and she feared her knees might give out as he kissed her like a man starved. It was passionate, sensual, and lit a fire inside her she had never felt before. And despite everything, it felt right. Nothing had ever felt so right like the feeling of his strong frame against her.

But it wasn’t right. In a moment of clarity, Nina reluctantly broke their kiss, her lips still brushing against Tommy’s. Catching her breath, she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to quieten the turmoil inside for her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

With great gentleness, Tommy grabbed her chin, raising her face so that she would look at him. “I’m not.”

NEXT PART

Heart, Body and Soul tag list: @zablife @queenofshinigamis @raincoffeeandfandoms @call-sign-shark @kmc1989 @babayaga67 @kmhappybunny240 @diorrfairy @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @gaslysainz @brummiereader @loverhymeswith @fairypitou @prettywhenicry4 @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @woofgocows @girlwith-thepearlearring

Tag list: @iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella @caelys @lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24 @kmc1989 @call-sign-shark @jomarch-wannabe @ce1iat @areyenotfondofmelobster

Tommy Shelby tag list: @50svibes

[torchlitinthedesert]

“From hate figure to major artist: how the world learned to love Yoko Ono”, Daily Telegraph, 10 February 2024

A Yoko Ono retrospective opens at London’s Tate Modern this week, so there are features and reviews starting to come out. This one is very much about JohnandYoko, which is a shame when it’s promoting the exhibition, but interesting for how it frames Yoko’s reputation for a Boomer audience (it’s the Daily Telegraph, which skews old and right-wing). The through line is Yoko’s journey from hate figure to cuddly senior icon - with some nods to shifts in John’s reputation too, and more openness to conceptual art.

Anyway, it includes this amazing bit about Philip Norman, and the time Yoko withdrew cooperation for his John bio:

Norman struck up a relationship with Ono and she gave him a series of interviews for his Bible-length biog­raphy John Lennon: The Life (2008). Ono had given her co-operation on the condition that she read the man­u­script for accuracy. He agreed, but was surprised to be told later that she was upset by the book and would not endorse it, because Norman had been “mean to John”.

“I’d written about John in the way Yoko had always talked about him, with a sort of exasperated fondness,” Norman later told me, clearly taken aback.

“She’d read the unedited manuscript, and initially the ­message came back from her that someone else had read it and it was really great.

“And then she said, could I pop over to have a cup of tea before I caught my plane back to London, and she would show me a page from John’s diary that I could use in the book.

“As I walked across Central Park, it popped into my mind, maybe she’s waiting with a lawyer; in fact, she was waiting with two lawyers, and another woman who I didn’t know… Yoko started to upbraid me for things I’d said about John in the book, and she said, ‘How could you say John masturbated?’ And this woman suddenly went, ‘Eugh!’ And I realised Yoko had a personal shudderer, someone who shuddered for her. But Yoko herself had told me the story of how John and Paul would sit around in the twilight calling out the names of sex idols of the time like Brigitte Bardot, and John would spoil it by shouting out names like Winston Churchill.”

Yoko and her personal shudderer! 🤩 I don’t necessarily trust Norman on, well, anything, but I deeply want this to be true.

[pluralzalpha]

Links to all my fiction currently available online (mostly but not entirely Doctor Who). I'll update it as and when.

CLASSIC WHO

The Gift of the Garb

Double-drabble. Third Doctor and Jo.

Shadow at the Heart

With James P. Quick. TDWP Brief Encounters series. Fifth Doctor and Nyssa.

Monkey Cups

TDWP Brief Encounters series. Sixth Doctor and Peri.

The Sleeping Ones

Seventh Doctor and Ace. Originally for Mythmakers Presents: Golden Years.

Missing in Action

Seventh Doctor.

Auld Lang Syne

Eighth Doctor (Amnesia arc) and Valeyard. Originally for Shelf Life.

MODERN WHO

Too Young To Die

Eighth to Ninth Doctor. Written long before we knew about the War Doctor or the Moment.

A World Apart

Ninth Doctor, Rose, Captain Jack and Iris Wildthyme. Originally on the Iris Wildthyme Pages, later printed in Bafflement and Devotion.

The Orb of Amarella

Tenth Doctor.

Time-Crossed

First Doctor, Steven and Sara Kingdom; Eleventh Doctor, Amy and Rory. Originally for Time Shadows: Second Nature.

Ace

Thirteenth Doctor and Ace. Written pre-Power of the Doctor.

The Under Gallery

The Curator (Tom Baker version).

ALT & FAN DOCTORS

A Spoonful Weighs a Ton

Shalka Doctor, Alison and the Master.

Frozen in Time

Shalka Doctor and the Master. Originally for Nine Lives.

The Fossilist

With James P. Quick. TDWP Brief Encounters series. Basil Rathbone (9th) Doctor, Silver and Mary Anning.

City of the Dragon

TDWP main series. Basil Rathbone (9th) Doctor, Val and Tom.

Peace of Mind

TDWP main series. Vincent Perez (10th) Doctor, Val and Tom.

Timebase

With Hamish Crawford and Meg MacDonald. TDWP Main series. Winston Adderly (11th) Doctor, Maggie and Simon.

BATMAN

World's Greatest Detective: The Lynx of Mbacké

Two-part audio adventure! CP Studios. Starring Terry Cooper as Batman and Jessica Matthews as Selina Kyle.

ORIGINAL SCI-FI & FANTASY

Ginny

Don't Drink the Water

The Edge: Gazing Into Other Worlds

Pathways to Now

[roe-and-memory]

Okay so I'm gonna take a few things from real life here so bear with me.

So IRL Nascar has drivers switch cars every time they make a new aero package so everyone is on a level playing field. But chassis are the same more or less as the Gen 6 car was basically a reskined car of tomorrow which used the same chassis before the next gen gen 7 car came out.

Do rules like that apply in the piston cup?

i think so, yeah!! i like to believe that the piston cup is literally just nascar with a different name (especially due to the reference of Piston cup with Winston cup, which is what the nascar cup series was called up until 2003)

i think they work basically the same, i think that the tracks that are unnamed in the cars universe are just the same (or slightly edited versions) of their real life counterparts, and i think the paint schemes work the same way - with every so often a driver has a different main sponsor for a race. i think keeping these rules for the piston cup like the ones we have in nascar adds more room for creativity as writers and artists arent stuck trying to make up rules, even if theyre simply using the real life rules as guidelines for their own add-ons.

this was a lovely ask, thank you!!

[explosive-aircooled]

just remember the time AMC won the fucking Winston Cup in Nascar in 1973. In a fucking Matador.

I can imagine the meeting with Roger Penske and Mark Donahue. AMC: “listen, can we get Mr. Penske on the phone?We wanna enter nascar.” Penske: “should we build something like the Trans Am cars? The Javelin? It’s a proper sports car. It already won the series in ‘71 and 72. It’ll be great against the chargers and Torinos. AMC: “ok, so you know the Matador?” Donahue: “the cop cars?” AMC: “yes. That’s exactly what we want. It’s gonna be great for our sporty racing image. We wanna race are boxiest and most unaerodynamic car in our lineup…”

[jwclapton]

I've been tagged by @shedreamsintechnicolor to do this. Many thanks, love! I've missed doing these. 😊

Last song: The Gregg Allman Band – 'I'm No Angel'.

Song stuck in my head: Eric Clapton – 'Too Bad'.

Currently watching: Mystery Diagnosis.

Favorite colors: Any dark shade of blue.

Currently reading: The Earnhardt Collection. It covers all of his NASCAR Cup wins, including non-championship ones (the Busch Clash, the Daytona qualifiers, and The Winston).

Currently craving: To be held and to fall asleep in someone's arms, even once, would put me so right.

Last movie: Young Frankenstein.

Sweet, spicy, or savory: Both sweet and spicy.

Relationship status: Single.

Current obsession: The Beetlejuice animated series.

Last thing Googled: 'platonic love songs'.

Three favorite foods: Pizza, pasta, and buffalo chicken.

Dream trip: Indianapolis Motor Speedway, to watch the 500 there someday.

Anything you want right now: To have the best holiday season I've had in a long while. I'm really looking forward to it this year.

Tagging – @darkvictories-fullheart, @gingerbreadland, @jackbeauregards, @maudeboggins, and @norashelley.

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

Tim Richmond

Timothy Lee Richmond (June 7, 1955 – August 13, 1989) was an American race car driver from Ashland, Ohio. He competed in IndyCar racing before transferring to NASCAR's Winston Cup Series. Richmond was one of the first drivers to change from open wheel racing to NASCAR stock cars full-time, which later became an industry trend. He won the 1980 Indianapolis 500 Rookie of the Year award and had 13 victories during eight NASCAR seasons.

Richmond achieved his top NASCAR season in 1986 when he finished third in points. He won seven races that season, more than any other driver on the tour. When he missed the season-opening Daytona 500 in February 1987, media reported that he had pneumonia. The infection most likely resulted from his compromised immune system, which was weakened by AIDS. Despite the state of his health, Richmond competed in eight races in 1987, winning two events and one pole position before his final race in August of that year. He attempted a comeback in 1988 before NASCAR banned him for testing positive for excessive over-the-counter drugs, ibuprofen and pseudoephedrine; NASCAR later announced it gave Richmond a new test and tested negative. Richmond filed a lawsuit against NASCAR after the organization insisted it wanted access to his entire medical record before it would reinstate him. After losing the lawsuit, Richmond withdrew from racing. NASCAR later stated its original test was a "bad test."

Richmond grew up in a wealthy family and lived a freewheeling lifestyle, earning him the nickname "Hollywood". In describing Richmond's influence in racing, Charlotte Motor Speedway president Humpy Wheeler said, "We've never had a race driver like Tim in stock car racing. He was almost a James Dean-like character." When Richmond was cast for a bit part in the 1983 movie Stroker Ace,[6]"He fell right in with the group working on the film," said director Hal Needham. Cole Trickle, the main character in the movie Days of Thunder, played by Tom Cruise, was loosely based on Richmond and his interaction with Harry Hyde and Rick Hendrick.

[beautouslysandy]

New To Town-5

(I don’t know how long this series is gonna be)

Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader

By- Sandy

Warnings: Mention of broken bone, but nothing else

Word Count: 1,666

______________________________________________________________

______________________________________________________________

You walked up the stairs to Buck’s place/bar. You didn’t even know what to call it. You knocked on the door, no answer. You knocked again, no answer. The you knocked again, answer. The door swung open to reveal Buck who clearly had a massive hangover. “What do you want?” He asked groaning.

You walked through the door now that it was open, he didn’t even bother with you. He clearly had a huge party last night. Due to the fact of cups everywhere, and oh god an undergarment. You shook your head in second-hand embrassment as you headed up the stairs. You knocked lightly on the door which led to Dally’s “room”. You heard a groan and him turning on his side. You opened the door. “Morning, sleeping beauty.” You teased with a smile.

You went over and sat on the mattress, as you soon as you did you felt arms wrap around your waist and pull you down on the mattress. You laughed “Come on, Dally! We have to meet up with everyone.” You said, you attempted to get up but failed due to him having his arms around you. You felt him burying his face into your neck and have you a kiss. “Don’t.” He said in his groggy morning voice, and he gave you a kiss on the cheek

You tried to get up again but failed, again. “No.” Dally said pulling you back down to mattress. “Dally..” You said laughing softly

“Yes, doll?” He said, you could hear him smiling as he pulled you closer to him. “We have to go.” You said seriously, or at least trying to say seriously. “Where?” He asked trying to act clueless

You tried to take his hands off you, and lets just say Dallas doesn’t like his doll trying to leave him period but in the morning, it’s worse. “What the hell are you doing, doll.” He said coldly, as you tried to take his hand off you.

Unconsciously you replied with “I am trying to leave” You said grunting trying to get some sort of way to get out of his grasp.

Once he heard you say that, he switched his attitude immediately. Dallas has a switch in his brain that controls his emotions whether they are positive or negative. Guess what you just switched on. “Fine then.” He said taking his hands off of you and turning to his side. You fell off the bed due to the suddenness of him letting go and you trying to leave his grasp. “Ouch! You asshole!” You muttered angrily, you tried to push up but you couldn’t. You had this unbelievable pain in your wrist. It’s broken due to hitting it on the nightstand with such force.

“Ouch.” You whispered. “Doll?” Dally asked, you could hear the bed creaking from him turning over. “On the floor.” You said coldly. “What?” He asked, then found you on the floor

“You pushed me on the floor and now my wrist is broken, you asshole.” You said trying to get your self up. You got up and glared at Dally on the bed and began to head to her door sniffling due to the pain of your wrist. Don’t cry, don’t cry. Is what you told yourself and then you heard heavy footsteps, you felt muscular arms wrapping you in a hug and turning you around. “Let me see…” Dally asked softly

You gave him your hand, the bone was in the wrong place you could tell. “I am so sorry, doll…” He said hesitantly with guilt in his tone

“Yeah.” You said looking anywhere but at him.

“Doll?” He asked worriedly, trying to get you to make eye contact with him.

With your non-broken hand you played with the locket your aunt gifted you that was your mothers. Dallas kept calling your name and his tone getting more and more sad. You accidentally zoned-out on thinking what it would be like if your mom were here but you were brought out of that fantasy when the bedroom door opened with a big bang. “What do you want, Buck?” Dally asked aggressively, you still didn’t look at him. “Nevermind.” The familiar dry voice replied, closing the door.

“Doll? Please answer me..please” Dally said softly with a sniffle, and then you felt a drop of water on your hand.

“Dally…” You said softly, was he crying. “Doll, I am so sorry. I am truly so sorry. I love you, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He said sniffling

“I know. I know. I’m sorry.” You said calmly looking at the ground. You felt his tough hand hold you chin and bring it up to look him in the eyes.

“What are you apologizing for, doll?” He said coldly

“I was the one tha-“ You began

“I was the one that nothing…I am the only who needs to apologize not you, okay?” He said roughly looking you in the eyes with sincerity

“Okay.” You said kissing him on the cheek.

“Doll?” He asked with his forehead to

yours

“Hmm..” You replied in your smile

“We should get your wrist checked out.” He said grabbing a t-shirt and coat.

“That’s a good idea…”

———

It’s been a week since the whole broken wrist incident, and Dallas refuses to touch you other than a simple kiss. It was really getting on your nerves. You had your cast on, which Sodapop vandalized immediately. “I am hungry.” You said looking in the Curtis’ fridge, tapping your finger on your lips.

You and the Curtis’ had grown very close in the span of one month. Your house was their house and their house was yours, as the saying goes. A home away from home. Or more like a home away from my house which is 8 steps away. “Then eat.” Sodapop said sarcastically, with a chuckle as he walked into the kitchen examining the fridge with you.

“I want fries. I am gonna go to the diner.” You said closing the fridge and walking out the door. Dally wasn’t there to stop you cause he was in the bathroom. Score.

———

You were in your personal favorite booth in the back, you were looking at the menu when the waiter came over so you ordered some fries and your favorite drink. “Is that all, Y/N?” The waiter asked, you were a usual. What can I say you love their fries. “Yes. That’s all. Thank you.” You said smiling. The booth you were at had a window next to it and there was a big bang on it, the whole diner looked towards it to see Dally knocking on it. You laughed because his face was so funny, he looked so irritated. Most likely because the diner is y’all’s place and you always go together and he didn’t like when you went to public places without him. Everyone in the diner went back to eating or whatever they were doing. You just waved at him, he couldn’t get in unless you were with him, the staff didn’t like him very much. For many reasons. He stared at you in disbelief, you could see Johnny and Ponyboy walking up to him. You were about to point to him when a guy came up to you and started talking to you. You felt like being a little mean today due to

Dallas treating you like a piece a glass. So you talked to him. Dally got really mad, he stromed into the diner. Once he got to your booth, he shot the guy talking to you the nastiest look ever and then punched him in the face and started fighting with him. You were shocked, I mean you knew he was protective and got jealous quickly but gosh. The server came over and handed you the fries and the drink. The server gave you a look which said “Get your crazy-ass delinquent boyfriend under control or I will call the fuzz(police).”

“Uh..Dally?” You said in a upset tone. He stopped with his punch mid-air, “What.” He asked. “There is something wrong.” You said stupidly

“What.” He said turning around

You smiled the he always had a soft-spot for. He muttered something under his breath before sliding into the booth with you. The guy that made the mistake talked to you couldn’t have ran out the diner fast enough. You began to eat your fries, you felt Dally staring at you. You took a sip of your drink.

“Mm” You said satisfied with your “snack”

You heard him scoff. You just kept doing you, so you ate your fries and sipped on your drink. This is was getting on his nerves clearly because he kept scoffing and staring at you. He was pissed. You were glad, now he knows how you feel when he treats you like glass. (Maybe not in the same way but the angry was still there)

He tried to steal one of your fries and you slapped his hand. And you glared at him and he gave the rudest look he has ever given you. You pushed your drink towards him apologetically with a laugh. Then he chuckled a bit. “Your crazy.” You whispered

“Crazy for you.” He smiled

“Then act like it, not in the I am gonna beat every opposite sec human being that talks to you way.” “What is that supposed to mean?” He asked taking a fry quickly

“You’re treating me like a piece of glass, you are afraid to touch me.” He looked at you in pure shock “What the hell are you talking about, doll?” He smirked

Then it looked like something clicked in his head “Ohhh..I just wanted to make sure that you fully healed.” He chuckled

“Mhm” You said sarcastically

He leaned over the table and kissed you so passionately you thought you were dreaming. When he pulled from the kiss he said:

“Is that better, doll?” He smirked and laughed at you flustered and stunned face.

Should I do a sixth one?

-Sandy

[opsbritney]

BRITNEY SPEARS The Nascar Winston Cup Series Pepsi 400 in Daytona (2001)

[nascarwallpapers]

2000 NASCAR Winston Cup Series: Steve Park, #1 Pennzoil Chevrolet, Dale Earnhardt Inc. Download full resolution & extras on Patreon.

[racecargraveyard]

2000 Dale Earnhardt #3 GM Goodwrench Service Plus Atlanta Win Raced Version Custom. Earnhardt held off Bobby Labonte in a photo finish for his 75th career NASCAR Winston Cup Series win, beating Labonte by 0.010 of a second.

[peakyswritings]

In which Nina offers Tommy her homemade biscuits, to eat with their usual cup of tea. His - black, hers - with an awful lot of lemon and an awful lot of honey.

Of course, they must not forget to share with Winston.

Made for @raincoffeeandfandoms’s celebration. Congrats again, darling🫶🏻🫶🏻

Nina is the OC from my series Heart, Body and Soul.