#and i need you to know that if Thad and Tommy were ever looking names for a hypothetical kid Thad's response to that would be

[dementedspeedster]

🚼 and Tommy Shep.herd

Accepting || send me a 🚼 and a ship I’ll use a doll-maker to design what I think a child between our two muses would look like @stonefoxy

Name: Elaine "Lane" or "Laney" Shepherd-Thawne

Gender: Nonbinary ("she"/"they" primarily, but "he" also.)

Personality: Laney is pretty chill and calm in general. Things don't get to her easily. They're more internal with their feelings and seem like the type who let's things go like water off of a duck's back, and generally that's the case. However, they do have a tendency to hold their emotions back and have big outbursts later on. Though when it comes to their opinions they've got them and they will be heard.

Laney's got a quiet kind of confidence. Polite even when they know their opponent has no chance in hell of beating them. They just let their opponent have the last word when they know they'll win in a race or a competition. It's rare that they shit-talk, but when they do I'm sure both Thad and Tommy are proud when it happens and when it's really scathing. Thad and Tommy are really supportive in the sense of letting them go a bit wild or being mischievous, but Laney is just "???" in that regard.

Special Talents: Super-speed and hand to hand combat. I think Laney's powers are a mix of the physicality that is associated with Tommy's speed and Speed Force based like Thad. So a bit of the best from both worlds of super speed. So even if she's without he speed powers she still has the physicality/physical prowess.

Headcanons: Enjoys skateboarding, snowboarding, and other physical sports that involve going fast or the world zipping past them. Laney's got future Olympian in their future in either skateboarding or snowboarding. She thinks any sprinting or track competition would be too easy for her.

Only lets their parents or incredibly close friends who have known them forever call them "Laney". Most people tend to call them "Lane".

[oddaodd]

Concern in Painting

· Tommy Shelby snaps at his wife´s concern ·

Warnings: A bit of angst. 

The sound of the car pulling up the driveway and the lights that shone through the window at such an unholy hour at night indicated his arrival. She hadn’t meant to stay awake so late, but her concern for him had been on the rise and it chased her sleep away. A few moments later she heard the sound of his footsteps making their way his study shortly after the sound of the main door closing shut. Y/n sighed deeply. Business was booming and it took a toll on him. Y/n painfully watched as he deteriorated without daring to interfere, knowing that Tommy needed to keep his mind busy as much as he needed to breathe. Nevertheless, she thought enough was enough, she couldn’t just stand by leaving him to deal with everything on his own. She put away her paint and brushes and gave one last look (for the night) at the painting she had started at the dawn that night´s insomnia. She then went downstairs to the kitchen to get some biscuits, knowing that it was more than likely that he hadn’t eaten all day.  She silently walked to his study and allowed herself in without pausing to knock. 

“Hi” she softly said, not wanting to commit sacrilege by disrupting the peaceful silence that filled the room. 

He looked up to see her for just a second and then resumed writing what y/n assumed were letters, merely muttering a “hello” of his own.

Y/n made her way to the side of his desk and placed the plate of biscuits next to the glass of whiskey that was always a staple wherever he was, before perching herself on the desk.

“You need to eat something, love. The maids baked these earlier today” 

“Thanks” he said, eyes still glued to his writings, not really paying attention to anything she had said. 

She quickly eyed what he was writing, not because she was nosy, but because it had been so long since Tommy had last shared any details about what he did for most of the day. Her eyes widened a bit to see that he was indeed writing letters and that the one he was writing at that very moment was addressed to Winston Churchill. 

“Whatever are you writing a letter to Churchill for?” She couldn’t help but to ask. 

“Business” was his short answer. 

“What kind of business?” She pressed.

“Just business”  he replied in a somehow annoyed tone that he had never used before on her. 

She tried not to let his tone sting, to no avail. Silence filled the room for a few moments as thoughts about what to say next filled Y/n´s head. Years of knowing the man had taught her that it was best to leave him be when he wanted to be alone, but her concern for his well being prevented her from doing just that. 

“Tommy” she warned in a rare softness laced with worry and the tiniest  amount of hurt. 

He didn’t acknowledge it though, he just kept writing. Y/n sighed and put her hand on top of his, the one that was resting atop of the letter to Churchill, not the one writing it. 

“Thomas” she tried again, rubbing her thumb on the back of his hand 

The use of his name made him look up at her. She wished he hadn’t, for the look on his face was that of annoyance. 

“What?” 

She didn’t want to be annoying, but his state worried her more than the worry of being annoying did. “Why don’t you come to bed? Its late.” 

He sighed and turned his attention back to the letter. “Im busy.” 

“I´m sure you can write that tomorrow.” she hesitantly reassured him.

He didn’t reply, so she went on. “I´m worried about you Tom. You barely sleep, you barely eat, you don’t even talk to me anymore, not really anyhow and…”

“Look Y/n” he interrupted, turning his full attention to her, in a less than caring tone  “I have a business to run, if you don’t like it then leave.” 

She could have never anticipated his answer and it hit her like a ton of bricks. Her eyes watered and her lips parted a bit in unpleasant surprise at both his tone and harsh words. Tommy saw it, but still he did nothing and went back to writing. She then decided not to push him any further and left the room. She walked upstairs and into one of the many spare rooms, being too distraught to sleep in the bed Tommy and she shared despite knowing very well the prospect of him visiting the room was more than unlikely. 

She knew how important his business was and understood the priority, but for a while ( ever since marrying Tommy to be precise) she had allowed herself to believe she mattered as much to him as business. Tommy’s small acts of love backing up her beliefs in days that seemed long gone; all replaced now with indifference towards her that left her with a profound uncertainty about everything and anything. For the past few months he had started pushing her away, allowing her less and less to be involved in anything related to business, making her feel like a total stranger. Still, the deep concern she felt for the man she loved overpowered the betrayal she felt at his words and she couldn’t help it but to mentally forgive him before falling asleep. 

She woke up the next morning feeling alienated of the events from the previous night. Had it all really happened, Or had it been it just a dream? Her mental questions were instantly answered when she realized she awoke in one of the spare rooms. Still not fully awake, She started thinking about the day ahead of her, how very dull it seemed. She avoided Tommy (who oddly enough was still at home ) all morning, not knowing for sure how she should act around him anymore. 

After breakfast, she found safe haven in the library where her unfinished painting from the previous night awaited her with open arms. With each stroke of the brush against the canvas she felt herself floating away and, entering in some sort of peaceful trance which was only broken with the sound of the library door opening a few moments later.  

Y/n knew it was him, but she didn’t dare to look at him. She heard his footsteps coming closer till he was standing behind her and her stool. 

“Looks beautiful”  came his voice. 

“Thanks”  

She then stood up and decided to turn around to look at him, knowing the only reason he was home during the day was that he wanted to talk. When her eyes met his tired ones, he felt a pang of guilt. He could see concern and sadness painted on her face and he knew he had to make it right. 

“I didn’t mean to snap last night” he confessed. 

“I know” she said, barely a whisper.  

“I¨m sorry” he sighed, holding her hands in his. 

“You don’t have to take care of everything on your own, you know?”  She stated  before wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his chest. She sighed happily as she felt his arms wrapping around her, making her feel at home for the fist time in wha thad seemed for ever. “I hate what you’re doing to yourself, it’s killing me to see you fade away.” 

“I´ll take care” he promised.

“Let me help” she pleaded. 

He pulled away to look at her eyes before kissing her softly, hoping with all his might that he never would regret letting her back in by endangering her “Alright Mrs. Shelby”