#because polly isn't certain in herself

[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.

[po11yannaswife]

𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑁𝑜.𝐼𝐼 ๋࣭⭑𝜗𝜚

𖹭 𝑃𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝐺𝑟𝑎𝑦 𝑥𝐹𝑒𝑚!𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𖹭 ;

𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝐼𝐼 ; 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝐼𝐼 𝑜𝑓 𝑐𝑖𝑟𝑐𝑎 1923-1924

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑠𝑒𝑚𝑖-𝑎𝑏𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠, 𝑔𝑜𝑟𝑒, 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑧𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑜𝑝ℎ𝑜𝑏𝑖𝑎, 𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑟-𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑠, 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ, ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑦 𝑑𝑒𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑃𝑇𝑆𝐷.

𝐅𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝟐𝟖𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟒

I cannot fathom what has happened the last two days.

I am now back in Small Heath and somehow, I'm finding peace in this shit of a place after being in the luxurious area of Warwickshire. Luxurious, yet probably the most chaotic place I've been in for a few years. Well, it was probably the events that happened to cause that. It's actually quite peaceful on the countryside. You can hear and feel the breeze run through your hair, the air smells fresh, the grass is green, there are trees. It's quite beautiful.

The wedding? It was decent. Lovely music, food, alcohol. If I must say myself, I looked absolutely gorgeous. The sapphire clips Grace gave me really were the icing on the cake. And, Polly was there.

But, the Russians had decided this would be a phenomenal day to begin business. It wasn't. I fucking couldn't believe my ears when I heard that the Russians were here, or whatever fucking Refugee. I don't even know if they were an actual refugee or a Bolshevik or a Russian. It's all just a mix. I'm pretty certain Arthur hates himself even more now because his Quaker wife has encouraged religion on him and..murdering someone isn't really, well, religious behaviour, I'd say.

The Russians are already on my nerves. They have left a bad taste in my mouth with just their appearance at a bloody wedding. Tatiana Petronova and her uncle and aunt have arrived in London from Russia, already, as they had to flee. She provided us with ten thousand dollars in cash without much protest, thank the gods. Now that's safe in the vault, which is why I'm back here in Small Heath. Unfortunately.

Ada currently thinks Polly is in love with me, which is absolute bonkers. I always say this when my hypothetical love life with Polly is involved, but what Ada saying is. Polly is completely attracted to men. She was getting fucking swarmed by them last night and I couldn't help but feel absolutely envious. It's normal for men to be like that, y'know, swarm a woman, flirt with her, all that. They get to do that without shame. Me? I'm frowned upon. It isn't normal. It's disgusting and sickening. I should've just danced with the man who offered to feel somewhat normal for once.

Now, I will not deny, I may be crazy, but I think Polly's flirting with me. I think I'm pushing too far with the word flirt. She's really close, borderline flirting. I think she really likes how I get jealous, even though I feel like I'm going to cry and scream and rip my hair out whenever I am. And Gods! This morning! Okay, that had to have been flirting! She was putting the cash onto me and she was handing me a wad to put in my garter, and I swear, that same..feeling came back when she offered to put it in herself. Her hand was running up my leg with that damn smirk. Her eyes, I can't even explain it. All I know is that I felt like I needed something. I am craving it ravenously, but I don't know what I'm craving.

This journal just chronicles my love for her, I swear. This fucking infatuation infuriates me. I hate it. I hate all of it. I love Polly but I hate this. I hate how in love I am with her and how it refuses to pass. I hate how I can't stand another flirting with her and making her smile and laugh. I can't stand how I, a woman, am in love with a woman. I can't stand how this has made me somewhat want to be a man so that I can have her without any of this wreck of emotion. This woman has made me want to take the barrel of my gun and push it to my head and pull the trigger. It hurts. No one understands how much this hurts. I've heard queers go to hell, and I think it's true. I am living my own pure hell that the devil himself has created for a disgusting being like me.

Bloody hell, I should really get a hobby or start working at the betting shop more.

With Love.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Dropping the pen, you flopped yourself onto your bed, lazily kicking your shoes off and getting under the covers. You extended your arm to yank the drapes shut and heavily sighed, finally closing your eyes to get a few hours to sleep. Your droopy eyes finally closed, muscles relaxed, and your brain finally went quiet.

The feeling of being woken up by a hand running through your hair was startling. Panic coursed through you, rushing to take root in your chest, and sweat beads formed on your forehead. Your heart raced once more, pounding against your ribs. The touch, though gentle, felt ominously unfamiliar when surounded in darkness. It almost transported you back to the war, resurrecting the old feelings of paranoia and chronic sleep deprivation. You felt as if you were back in those restless nights, dreading the moment a comrade might shake you awake at the slightest hint of danger. In that moment, you remained frozen, trapped in the grip of your own apprehension.

"Y/n, love," Polly winced as she heard your soft gasp, sensing the tension in your body and noticing your rapid, shaky breaths, which revealed your confusion about the situation and the identity of the person before you. "It's okay. Just breathe, sweetheart, breathe. It's Polly," she whispered soothingly, observing as you slowly turned to face her, inadvertently catching her hand in the process and nuzzling your cheek against it.

"How did you manage to get in?" you mumbled, enfolding her arm in your embrace as if it were a cherished stuffed animal.

Polly huffed, "You have a shit lock. All you have to do is shake the knob and it opens. I have a chair against it currently." You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut. "Tommy was about to break the door. We were looking for you everywhere."

"I've been sleeping for a few hours. Give me a break"

Polly blinked, "You've been sleeping for three fucking days."

The statement woke you up right away and made you jerk straight up, staring at the blankets still covering you. Polly watched you as you realised, lighting a cigarette up. "I've been watching you for a few hours to see if you were dead..or dying."

"W- How-"

"Are you truly asking how, sweetheart?" Polly raised an eyebrow, knowing you also knew the answer to why and how you slept for so long. "Tommy and Grace worked you like a dog without bloody caring if you fucking slept. That's how."

You gazed at Polly, feeling somewhat content that someone had noticed how you felt and the treatment you were receiving. You sucked in a breath, "Thank you."

"For what?"

The room was quiet as you savoured the quiet moment with her as she sat on your bed, her hand inching towards yours and her gaze fixated on you while yours was back onto the blankets. Polly was concerned, but your next statement most likely had increased the emotion.

"For..for caring. Actually caring. Not only caring when I get hurt or threaten to leave..you actually care for me. It's odd."

Polly continued her silence while studying you, a burning cigarette between her fingers. Countless cigarettes were in the ashtray from Polly which had elicited a prominent scent of smoke through the room. You tensed up underneath her appraising gaze and gulped, playing with the rings on your hands. Your body felt awfully uncomfortable since you idiotically didn't change out of your outfit before falling asleep, the straps of your bra irritating you greatly.

Polly noticed, "I looked through your drawers. You have some of the most uncomfortable clothing, I swear," She rolled her eyes. "I brought some of mine here and I am having Ada bring you some from London. New ones."

"Pol, no. I don't want anyone-"

Polly put the cigarette to your mouth, almost like a pacifier to shut you up. "You're getting new clothes, whether you like it or not. Understood? I am no longer allowing you to wear this..rubbish." She put the sleeve of your dress between her fingers, quickly letting go in clear disgust. "We'll give it to the desperate."

"You are ever so kind." You said sarcastically, taking a drag of the cigarette before falling back onto your two pillows.

"Before you get relaxed, go change." She commanded, picking up a stack of neatly folded satin pyjamas, "I know you said gowns made you feel like your mother."

A giggle slipped from your lips as you took the clothing, standing up from the warmth of your bed after days. "Yes, you're correct. They do."

Polly still sat at the chair that was at your desk, continuing a book she must have taken from your shelves since you recognised the binding. You glanced at her yet she didn't notice, causing you to sigh.

Polly looked up with a confused look, "Are you going to change?"

"Well, um, yeah, but-"

"Are you too shy to do so while I'm here?" Polly asked in amusement, with a devilish grin that made your chest flutter. You felt your cheeks warm up as she chuckled, "Oh, love, aren't you just the sweetest..it makes me want to just-"

Polly didn't continue on, biting on the inside of her cheek to stop herself. She cleared her throat, "If you'd like me to go into the den, I can. But I'm assuming you'd need help getting those buttons undone." She nodded to the buttons on the back of your dress. You did need help, so you just turned your back to her instead of verbally expressing she was correct.

A sly smirk graced her lips as she stood up, gently undoing the buttons and exposing your back slowly. Her breathing slowed down when it was exposed enough, her eyes fixated on your smooth skin with scars. On the other hand, you were flushed at feeling how exposed you were, waiting for her to back away.

"Y'know, I can just," You took the shirt and unfolded it, laying it flat on the bed. You unclipped your bra and took your arms from the sleeves of the shirt, the dress laying on your chest. You took the shirt and put it over your head, letting the dress fall to your hips. You slid them off and stepped away from Polly, quickly sliding them onto you. "I used to have to do this as a child since we didn't have separate rooms."

"Mm." Polly hummed, a genuine smile curving on her lips seeing you in her clothes. And you couldn't deny they were much more comfortable than yours. The luxurious satin didn't irritate your skin or make you itch, and it was loose and flowy, not tight like a corset. "I have a bit more tits than you so it's a little loose."

"Christ, Pol! Will you shush?!" You shouted in a hush manner and instinctively folded your arms over your chest. Your cheeks were a bright pink as you looked away from her, "I have more than enough for your information!"

Polly snickered at your dramatic reaction, watching you plop back into your bed. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No," You grumbled into your pillow. "Don't leave."

Polly nodded and sat back down in the chair, watching you curl yourself into a ball and close your eyes. She continued to read her book, occasionally glancing at you.

"How mad is Tommy?" You mumbled, frightened for her to answer since she really didn't hold back on the truth.

"Stop worrying about Thomas."

"I am unable to. He quite actually controls my life. I need to know if he is ready to fire me from my job and hold a grudge against me or give me more work."

"I'll handle him." Polly flipped a page of the book sharply. Polly narrowed her eyes as you rolled your own and sighed. "Do you not believe me?"

You lifted your head up once more, staring up at the wall that had met your headboard as you eyes flickered over the random imperfections of the paint. "I never said I didn't believe you, Polly." In the corner of your eye, you could still see her staring. "But. it is hard to believe Thomas would shrug off my incompetence to work off because you had ordered to do so."

"So, you're underestimating my ability to use my voice with Thomas? Do you think he has all the control?" The statement prompted you to turn your head quickly toward her, perplexed by her conclusion.

"I'm simply pointing out that he can be quite stubborn," you replied.

"Are you so ignorant as to think you understand my nephew better than I do?" Polly chuckled with amusement, leaving you unsure of how to remove yourself from the predicament you'd accidentally created.

"Y/n, how about this, hmm?" Polly closed her book and placed it on your desk, shifting her chair closer to you. "Let the woman who has been part of this company since long before you were born handle it. Would you prefer that, or would you rather face Thomas's anger?"

You let out a heavy sigh, closing your eyes in surrender. "I'll let you handle it."

Polly remained silent for a moment, appraising you with her gaze, her eyes shifting between the bed and back to you. "Good girl."

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝟓𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟒

I sit here with my pen in hand, and I cannot drag myself away from the thought of Polly. It's as if she sits in my mind and dangles her feet over every other single idea or thought I have and overtakes it like the clouds shadowing the moon, taking away its purpose of glowing in the darkest of nights.

Unintentionally, I slept for three days straight in which I don't know whether to be impressed with myself or disappointed. I suppose I needed the sleep. Polly broke into my home if we are using logical terms here because everyone thought I was dead. Again, I am perplexed on whether that'd be an unfortunate event or the opposite.

In my foolish tendencies as I write this, I want to write all of Polly. Yet, I think that is completely obsessive and improper of me to do so. This is my journal. Yes, I know what you are thinking, me in the future. But the act is preposterous, not even a man who has married a movie star from Hollywood would write this much about her. Then again..it's probably for the sex.

Today I have decided to resume my duties for Shelby Company Limited. I really don't understand why it is called limited when Thomas states quite often that he has no limits. The irony is appalling, really. You kill and kill and rob and kill and fuck and your company dares to have the word "Limited" in it? Maybe I sound arrogant here since Peaky Blinders business is separated from the company. Why do I ramble so much?

I also may have made a mistake. I may have enabled John accidentally to take revenge on Angel Changretta on accident..I was tired. I just hummed and I think I agreed with his point. I mean, I do understand and I would most definitely agree if he weren't so violent. We really don't need more violence. Arson wasn't a great choice, I will not lie.

I pray that Polly has already had her talking with Tommy. I really don't want to be greeted with new bruising, whether to be on my heart and head or on my skin. I mean, how much could really be stacked up for me or expected? What's gonna happen? Am I expected to follow Thomas on a journey to London and share tea time with a Russian royalist?

With Love.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"I cannot believe you forced me to go to London with you to have tea with a Russian royalist."

The whispered statement caused Tommy to grumble something under his breath. The two of you stepped up the stairs which had led to the Ritz, wearing an outfit he had given you to look your greatest and poshest. A cream white, wool trench-coat was tightened around your waist with a line of buttons, black lace peeking through the neck along with the white satin gloves that decorated your hands. Your hair was curled just slightly as the ends with a string of pearls around your neck. Your heels clicked along the marble floors of the expensive hotel, feeling in place with the rich for once.

"You should feel on top of the world..girls with your background don't go on business in these kinds of places." Thomas stated, in which you had taken offence of that. You glared at him, digging your nails into his arm harshly.

"Are you saying if it weren't for you, my lord and saviour, I'd be some whore on the streets?"

Thomas cleared his throat as a sign he was done with this conversation, squeezing your arm as a reassurement? Or a warning? You couldn't figure that out. You smiled at the receptionist kindly as Thomas began to speak. "I believe you have a reservation for a private room under the name of Mr. Romanov."

The man briefly met your gazes, then cast his eyes downward, appearing visibly troubled. He proceeded to close his eyes, as if bracing himself for what was to come, overwhelmed by a wave of anxiety. He clicked his tongue, "You work for Mr. Romanov?"

Thomas stared at him blankly for a few seconds, leaving you to stand there awkwardly. "Yes."

"For his household or office?"

Thomas sighed heavily, glancing over at you quickly. "Is there a problem?"

The man couldn't look at either of you in the eyes as he began to speak, "I'm afraid without the presence of the Duke Mikhail Michailovich or Lady Lewington, we shall have to ask for payment in advance."

"May I ask why?" You questioned with a soft chuckle in disbelief towards the statement. God knows how much money these people wanted.

The man shifted his gaze to you. "Already, Mr. Romanov has four outstanding bills with us. One for accommodation and three for dining...and two banquets, which we wrote off. We've been asked to be understanding of our Russian friends by His Majesty..but it has been some time now-"

Thomas pulled out a hefty roll of cash from his blazer in annoyance and impatience. You stared at the ceiling before looking to your right, showing your own impatience. The roll of cash elicited a heavy thud, making the man immediately look down and clear his throat.

"..May I ask your name, sir? And you, madam?"

"Shelby."

"Both?"

You opened your mouth to correct it but once more, Thomas squeezed your arm. "Both. Thomas Shelby and Y/n Shelby. And in the future, we will be dining here quite a bit." He flatly confirmed. You looked at him with a perplexed expression.

"Then I shall put you both on our special list." His eyes flickered between you and Tommy, the tension between the three of you high.

"You do that."

"Here is a menu." He handed two menus to the both of you and you carefully took one with a sceptical look, not even shocked at the situation. "I recommend the teal and pork. Although, your guest, I'm sure, will order the caviar."

"Ew." You grumbled under your breath. You quickly smiled at the man again before being led through the glorious halls, still on Tommy's arm, seen now as a Shelby. Unsure of what to think of this, it felt powerful yet draining.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Sitting next to Tommy, you both stared into space as Leon rambled on the stupidest shit. "Myself and my wife and my niece travelled by train, then coach, then on foot through the Villa Ai-Todor in Crimea. On that journey I lost a toe." You pretended to raise your eyebrows in interest, and he smiled. "I don't know, I woke up one morning and it was gone. All of the sudden I saw a dog, and it was eating it." He shoved a piece of toast with the caviar on it into his mouth, causing you to slightly cringe. "They said the British had taken pity on us, and we were taken aboard HMS Marlborough. I immediately kissed the steel deck, my lips froze to it. And then, of course, I thanked God and your King for saving us." He paused, tilting his head. "Though since then, he has done nothing but humiliate me."

"Who? The King or God? Two people of power yet they differ, Mr. Romanov."

He smirked at you, shoving another piece of bread slathered in caviar into his mouth. "Sometimes both, Miss..Shelby." He looked over at Tommy, "So, you've met my niece already, yes? Tatiana." He paused his chronicles of shoving food in his mouth, "Are you in love with her yet, hm?"

Thomas stayed silent and so did you. "You would be wise to not love Russian women, you know. Ah, better not speak of Russian women," Thomas put a cigarette to your mouth, assuming his next words were most likely not going to be the most appropriate for your ears. "Mm, that is the worst thing about being here, Russian women, they know how to hold it and most important, they know exactly when to let go." He stood up to hand Thomas a lighter, which he had lit yours first. "Your cock, I mean. You understand what I'm saying too, Madam. Women are a variety with their practices." You stared at him, quickly taking a drag of the fag.

"English women, they do not know so much. You know?" He stared at you while saying this. You glanced over at Thomas in horror. Thomas stared daggers at Romanov who sat across from you both, a few seconds of silence echoing through the room. He changed the subject, "Did he die well, the spy?"

"He begged for his life like a coward." You replied, blowing the smoke from your lips. "We initially thought he was a Bolshevik, but his last words have left us contradicted."

"Those were?"

You glanced up at him while taking another drag of the cigarette, "He begged for the love of God."

Romanov paused for a second, nodding his head slowly. He stayed silent in which you squint your eyes, looking back at Tommy for him to continue the conversation. Romanov continued the conversation, "I heard you had your brother do the mission. So you trust your family, like me." He paused again, appraising Thomas. "Like us, Mr. Shelby."

Thomas raised his eyebrows and tapped his cigarette on the ashtray, "Let's talk about trust then, shall we?" Thomas put his cigarette back to his mouth as you watched him. "You are not a direct relation to the Romanov's, you are Georgian."

Leon didn't like the straight forwardness, clearly, as he gripped a glass so hard that it had shattered. You didn't jump but you had winced, taking a generous gulp of the alcohol that was given to you and chasing it with a puff of your cigarette. Leon carefully dropped the shards of glass and wrapped his hand with a cloth, and Thomas wasted no time to continue.

"And the palace where you live in Hampton Court is, in fact, a grace and favour house donated to you, rent-free by the British Crown." Leon looked distressed and frustrated, not willing to make eye contact with you nor Tommy. "The maître d' here, tells me that you are in some debt. Both here and other places, I'd imagine."

Thomas looked at you to continue, and you couldn't stop your voice from being slightly shaky. "We have been given 10, Mr. Romanov, but we were promised 40. Already, we have had to have a man killed. You do understand that that type of dirty work does not come for cheap, especially since it caused such a disturbance on such a significant day." The man couldn't even look at you, while you were trying to make some sort of eye contact with him by lowering your gaze. "You do understand our points here, yes? Or shall I explain in a more simpler detail?" The tone of your last sentence was borderline condescending, but he was acting like a child since he had gotten caught. You can't act like a child in business.

Leon shifted his gaze up towards you with his jaw clenched and his eyes full of pure..belittlement. Thomas and you stared back at him with the same energy. Leon began to stand up, "Let me tell you something, Mr. and Miss. Shelby," He dragged his seat all the way to the other side of the table, sitting next to Thomas. "Before we boarded the ship, my niece sewed 16 diamonds into her velvet dress, and she also had two sapphires in her intimate places," As Leon said this, he pulled out a perfect sapphire out of his pocket. Tommy's eyes fell onto the stone immediately. "My wife managed two sapphires and five diamonds. This is already for the killing of the spy and a down payment on future services."

Thomas nodded his head, looking like he was impressed. You leaned over to inspect the stone more carefully, your reflection bouncing off the sapphire. Tommy grumbled. "Now, tell me, where you keep these things? In a bank?" He lifted his cigarette to his lips.

Leon opened his mouth slightly, "How could we plead poverty around London society if we used banks, Mr. Shelby?"

Tommy nodded his head again, and you had decided it was you turn to speak. You sucked in a breath, "Well, you should know that Hatton Gardens isn't the mere safest."

"Which is why we have our own treasury, madam." He replied swiftly, glancing at you.

Thomas looked at you, eyeing Leon after a second. "Very well. I shall have my people check its veracity." Tommy took the sapphire from Leon's hand swiftly and put it in the pocket in his blazer. At the same time, you had reached out for the lighter to light up one last cigarette, which was a mistake on your part when your wrist was slammed down by Leon's hand. Now you were in an uncomfortable position, leaning halfway over the table and stuck. He glared at you, then Tommy.

"Before the revolution, we were soft and weak. We made compromise. But let me tell you. We will never be soft and weak again. Do you both understand?" The two of you had remained silent, silent agreement for one. Leon nodded after gazing at you both for what had seemed like minutes.

He lifted his hand off of your wrist, and you snatched it back to yourself. "Good day, Mr and Miss Shelby."

Thomas shook his head in silence, rising from his seat. He extended his hand to assist you, and you accepted graciously, all the while maintaining your intense gaze on Leon. As Thomas guided you, you both exited the room without exchanging a single word.

Upon returning to the car, you wasted no time, reaching out your hand expectantly. "Show me."

Tommy glanced at you, his eyes rolling before he handed over the stone. You took it carefully and inspected it closer as he began to drive out of London. Your eyes dilated at the stone.

"Is your hand okay?" Tommy inquired with a flat tone, casting a disgruntled glance in your direction.

"It's fine. Bit of a cunt move of him, though." you responded with a touch of disdain.

Thomas, in an attempt to steer the conversation away from the topic, hummed and said, "Ada mentioned she'd like to meet Anton again."

The unexpected statement prompted you to turn your head, and a chuckle escaped your lips. "Did you explain to her that the only way to do that is by taking her life to meet him in hell?"

"I told her it wouldn't be possible. She insisted he was 'nice'... as if we're in the business for 'nice'," he remarked as you retrieved a velvet bag and carefully placed the jewel inside, setting it on your lap. "She's too nice for these parts of business."

You let out a thoughtful hum, your brows furrowing as you examined your chilled, blue nails. "Any more information on the Changrettas?" you inquired.

Thomas grunted, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "The whole bloody feud has reignited, especially with John's fixation on taking out Angel. I had Polly try to talk some sense into him."

Your laughter bubbled up again. "You boys, still clinging to your youthful misbehaviour, need your dear aunt to rein you in. Quite entertaining, really."

"And you haven't gotten almost killed by her for misbehaviour?" Thomas met your gaze with a raised eyebrow.

You rolled your eyes and shifted your attention to the cold, frost-covered window. "She was just overreacting," you mumbled. "John risking starting a war is something worth to be talked of. We can't trust John to not do so. We cannot handle Sabini's chronicles. The Changrettas." You shook your head, beginning to light up a cigarette. "Too violent, these Italians."

"Like we can't fucking handle them. We run the fucking city."

"With that attitude of superiority and arrogance, we will get run over by them." You replied sharply, taking a drag of the cigarette. "John carries the most of those traits."

The rest of the car ride was silent, between the smoke of countless lit cigarettes and huffs and puffs. By the time you had gotten home, you were already exhausted enough to sleep for a week straight.

Entering the house, you dragged yourself right to your bedroom, snatching the bottle of whiskey from your desk and taking a lazy swig. You fell back onto your bed, wincing at the springs felt through the mattress. You stared at the ceiling, desiring to close your eyes and succumb to exhaustion, but you couldn't. For some reason, you knew it'd be a waste of time even trying.

And you were right. Hearing your door burst open, you immediately jerked up and your hand flew to your desk for your gun, cocking it instantly and backing into your bed. The footsteps were familiar though, still, your gun was aimed at the closed door to your bedroom.

Thomas opened your door more gently, letting it slowly swing open. His tongue was poking through his cheek, blinking at your position. You glared at him, dropping your gun and head. "What. Now?"

"Family meeting."

"One, am I really needed? And two, you broke into my fucking house just for that?"

"Yes and yes. Now, come on. Bring the whiskey." He pointed to the bottle on your desk before leaving the room. You quickly stood back up, taking the whiskey and putting your gun tucked into your garter. You ran after him as he strode much quicker than you, confusing clear.

"What is going on? You dropped me off forty fucking-"

"John."

And that's how you knew he didn't listen.

There you sat, nervously puffing on a cigarette at the table inside the betting shop. The floorboards creaked beneath you as Arthur paced behind, creating an air of tension. You occupied the left end of the table, with Polly closest to you, engrossed in her reading. Occasionally, you noticed her glances, which you acknowledged. Your chin rested in your hand, and your heel tapped an anxious rhythm on the floor.

Finn and John made their entrance, with John sporting a noticeable air of guilt. Everyone's attention turned to them, and Polly closed her book. "All right, Finn. Thanks for coming, now fuck off," grumbled Arthur.

Finn started to walk away, but Thomas stormed closer, asserting, "Finn, you can stay." The boy turned around and leaned against the wall beside John, who was then instructed to take a seat. "Sit down, John. Sit down," Thomas commanded, his tone sharp.

There was a moment of silence and you cursed silently when your cigarette burnt out. "John, you cut Angel Changretta." John huffed, and Thomas sharply inhaled. "Even though Arthur told you to apologise," Polly noticed your struggle as your lighter wasn't lighting up, putting down her cup of tea. "Polly told you to compromise. Y/n told you to compromise before them. But, you didn't listen to Mr. Apologise or Mrs and Mrs Compromise. And now I've got an Italian walking around in my backyard saying he's going to kill my brother." Thomas paused, and you were still fighting with your lighter.

"So what do we do, John? Do we apologise, or do we compromise?"

John puffed his cheeks out, not knowing what to say. You stared at him, pausing your lighter shenanigans to do so. "Oh, it was just something John said as a joke." Arthur defended. Polly, Tommy, and you all glared at him.

"Yeah, but he's your brother too, Arthur." You stated with a cigarette still in your mouth that was not burning.

"Yeah.." He mumbled, "I know I didn't want to start a war over something John said without meaning it.

Thomas looked to the side in utter frustration. He was lost in this conversation. He blinked for a moment blankly before looking back at all of you, using his hand to help him speak. "So, should he apologise in Italian or in English?"

All of you now stared at Tommy, and your desperation for a lighter was worse. You gazed at him in disbelief, your eyes fluttering shut. Polly seemed to be disappointed, Arthur didn't know what to say and neither did John. Thomas squinted his eyes and mockingly said towards Arthur, "Or should we ask them which fucking language they prefer? I'm not clear enough."

Polly seemed to have enough and moved in her chair, pointing a finger. "You said while this business was going on in London, you wanted peace at home."

"The only way to guarantee peace is by making the prospect of war seem hopeless. If you apologise once, you do it again and again and again. Like taking fucking bricks out of the wall of your fucking house." Thomas explained while Polly continued her looks of disbelief, shifting her gaze at you. "Do you want to bring the house down, Arthur?"

Arthur grunted, and Thomas continued. "If you're soft on rebellion, it'll grow."

You winced when Arthur stood up, "Bloody "soft on rebellion"."

Thomas turned to John and nodded, "You did the right thing, John. Now, we go on the offensive. We'll take control of two of the Changretta pubs tonight. That's our plan."

Polly chuckled sarcastically, her tone sharper, "Oh, really? For heaven's sake, why?" Her voice now carried more frustration.

Tommy abruptly halted and turned back, clearly taken aback by her question. "Hey?"

"Why?" Polly persisted.

You let out an exasperated mutter, dropping your head onto the table, a sense of resignation washing over you.

Tommy responded forcefully, "Why? Because we can, Polly! Because if we can, we will. And if we lift our heels off their necks now, they'll just come after us, and that includes you!" He pointed at you, and you glanced over at him without saying a word. His booming voice left your ears ringing. "Remember, these are the bastards who wanted Danny Whizz-Bang dead."

Thomas locked eyes with Arthur, who had resumed pacing. "You're getting soft, brother. Soft and weak. Save the Bible for Sundays, all right?" The tension in the room sent shivers down your spine as their stare-down continued. The silence seemed to stretch on for hours before Thomas finally spoke again.

"Finn, I need to go to Hockley and then head home. It's been a long day." Finn promptly exited the room, focusing his attention on Arthur.

Thomas turned to John, reiterating, "You take the Wrexham, and you take the Five Bells. Get them signed over to us by morning, and make sure the coppers stay away." He began to leave but turned back, adding, "And don't use the fucking phones, all right? There's someone listening, and I can't afford another screw-up."

And with the subtle insult, he left the room. And then Arthur.

All who was left was you, Polly, and John. Your head was still resting on the table as you heard Polly loudly slurping her tea, glaring at John as a way to tell him that he fucked up. Soon after, he left the room, leaving you two alone.

Polly sighed before closing her book once more, turning her chair towards you. Her fingers went for the cigarette that was next to your head and put it between her lips, taking her own lighter and lighting it up. She then, gracefully, put it to your mouth, waiting for you to latch on.

You glanced up at her, her eyes already on yours. You took the cigarette and leaned your head on your chin, taking a drag of the cigarette. "Thank you."

Polly ran her fingers through her hair, humming. It was silent between the two of you as you both smoked, occasionally taking sips of your whiskey. Your stomach had begun to grumble, even with the hearty meal of cigarettes and alcohol. Note the sarcasm.

"You should stay at my place for the night," Polly stated abruptly, causing you to look up at her. "For your safety. It's safer at my home, and you'd have a bigger room and lavatory. I don't need you getting caught up into this mess."

You blinked, speechless for a moment. "You're worried for..me? Getting into messy business?"

"Yes," Polly replied, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, I regret to inform you that it's a bit too late to be attempting to do so. I do, wholeheartedly, appreciate the consideration, though." You stated with a warm smile and regretful tone with a slight chuckle, not attempting to sound snarky though it slightly sounded like it. Polly stared at you, your warm smile quickly dissolving into a regretful frown.

"Then you can go back to your place, where the door can open with a single kick and the windows are as thin as you." Polly stated, looking back down at the newspaper in front of her. You stared at her now, rolling your eyes.

"I'll manage, Pol. Thanks though."

Yeah. Manage by pushing your dresser against your bedroom door, sitting up straight in your bed against your headboard, your gun laying right next to you which was loaded and ready, god forbid.

With the blend of working with the Russians and the "business" that was occurring currently, your fears increased more and more, and sleep had become something that was almost a treat. If you got to sleep, you were lucky. Instead, you were here, waiting until the sun began to peek from the windows.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"We need to talk."

Here you stood in front of Tommy, visibly concerned. Thomas Shelby was distressed. Beads of sweat rolled down his temples, his breathing was slightly ragged, and he couldn't stop fidgeting with his hands as he sat at his desk. It was past midnight, your hair slightly drenched from the rain, and your clothes messily thrown on. The four words he had uttered over the phone had brought you here, in front of him.

"What happened, Tom?"

He sucked in a breath, pursing his lips, his eyes fixed on his desk. "They got in."

"You've got to be more specific there."

He looked up at you, then took a card out of his pocket and handed it to you, avoiding your gaze as you read it. You needed to double-take, frozen as you saw "Charles Shelby, R.I.P" on the back of a crematorium card. "Found that under Charles's pillow."

"Who-"

"Hughes. He's most likely as dangerous as the Russians," he cut you off. "He took me to a fucking clandestine location. Hughes knows about our dealings with the Russians," he paused, gritting his teeth. "He wants us involved in the Economic League."

"You can't be serious?" Thomas finally looked up at you, and your heart sank.

You took a deep breath and sat down on one of the leather seats. "Does Grace know any of this? Does anyone else?"

"No."

"So why are you telling me, Tommy?"

"Because I knew you'd understand the situation faster than Arthur or Pol." Thomas bit his fist, leaning back in his chair. "Hughes will kill us all if I don't do this."

Wide eyed, you sat there with your hand covering your mouth as he continued, "He wants our power and to have control over the business and us."

"Surely he can't, Tom." You stated quickly, adjusting yourself in your seat so you were leaning forwards.

Thomas shook his head, "He and fucking Scotland Yard raided the fucking betting shop today, and he got a fucking funeral home card under my sons fucking pillow." His finger pointed at you and the sound of rain hitting the windows was the only sound interrupting the silence. He stared at you, "So what else can he do?"

Silence. Rain pattering. Clocks ticking. Fire crackling. That is all your brain could hear as your eyes slowly trailed back down, falling back into your seat, trying to come up with a solution. But, there wasn't any in sight. Not any that you nor Thomas would be happy about.

"He will take down the business, the family, our political stance, everything, if I don't do this." He finally stated, cracking his knuckles and clearing his throat.

Glancing up at him, you gulped. "You have no one else to convince but yourself, Tom. You're the boss, here, yeah?"

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝟐𝟑𝐫𝐝, 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟒

Sometimes I really ask myself, was associating myself with this family worth it? I hate asking that question, because they have saved me. But, am I so wrong for questioning the arms that saved me from one extreme situation, bringing me to another extreme?

John Hughes has become more violent and more dedicated to getting what he desires. He has successfully frightened Thomas, which not every man can do, I can assure. And no doubt, I am just as frightened. I don't know how much he is capable of, though, I do know it is a substantial amount, because he somehow got a crematorium advertisement card under Charles' pillow. Whoever works for him is skilled, and I do not know if he have dealt with this type of situation before.

I have not spoken to Polly about this. Thomas confided in me and I respect that. The burden is heavy on my mind, but I do have a busy day. Grace and Tommy are hosting a charity gala, and I'm more so excited because I do not have to help host. I can simply get ready, and talk to people. Isn't that wonderful?

I hope tonight is a break from everything around me.

With love.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

With that hope in mind, you continued your day, the night announcing itself and your glamoured up self showing up in the mirror once more, the repeat of the sapphire clips in your hair weighing less than the burden on your mind. An ivory dress covered your figure, sheer light pink lace covering the skirt of it that had lightly grazed the floor as you walked.

You sped into the car that was awaiting you, adjusting the straps of your heels when you got in. As always, the drive was quiet, not having much interest in communicating with the driver. You gave him a tip as you left the vehicle.

The sounds of people chattering and laughing greeted you along with the warm lighting of the big room, entering in timidly. Your eyes searched for familiar faces in the crowds, finding a few and offering a small smile at them if they even saw you.

You turned your head to the waiter who was circulating with glasses of champagne and gracefully took one. In doing so, you noticed Polly admiring herself in the mirror. Unbeknownst to you, she saw you observing her as well, until her eyes met yours in the reflection. Her smile slightly faltered, not into a frown, but as if she was thinking. After a few moments she had turned around, her smile once returning.

"Look what the cat dragged in," She teased as she walked towards you. You smiled, relieved, and mesmerised by her.

"Hi, Pol." You greeted softly as she gave you a quick kiss on the cheek, "You look gorgeous. The gown and yourself."

Polly stepped back and grinned at you, taking a glass of champagne while her eyes appraised you approvingly. "Same to you, darling." Her lipstick printed on the glass, your mind unable to stop the thought of desire of her leaving her print of lipstick on your neck..and the fingers grasping onto the glass to take off the ever so uncomfortable dress-

"Oh, god."

"Hm?"

"I don't like that look."

Polly's statement prompted you to follow her gaze. When you did, you locked eyes with Thomas, whose cold stare held yours with an intense grip. His gaze then shifted to Father Hughes, who had just entered the room and was helping himself to some champagne. Polly observed you closely, noting the colour drain from your face and your body language change almost immediately. You watched as Thomas walked over to the doors of another room, and your eyes fixed straight ahead once he was out of sight.

"And I don't like that look either," Polly quipped, her tone lowering a few octaves. "What the bloody hell is going on?"

"Nothing." You had said that it was a bit more high pitched than normal, avoiding Polly's burning gaze. Her eyebrow was raised as you timidly looked at her, taking a huge gulp of your champagne. "I'm going to go get some more of this..you have some fun, yeah?" You trailed off without another word, feeling Polly watching you as you moved.

As you were walking deeper into the crowd, you accidentally bumped your shoulder into somebody, leaving the leftover champagne in your glass to splash onto your dress. You gasped, immediately turning to apologise.

"Oh, Y/n! God, I apologise." Grace had stated softly, taking the glass from your hand trying to figure out what to do.

You put a hand up, "It's alright, it'll dry. It was my fault anyway," You laughed off nervously, turning your head to a jewelled up, gorgeous woman in front of you.

Grace had put her hand lightly on your back, "This is Y/n, Y/n, this is Duchess Tatiana Petrovna. Isn't this wonderful?"

You awkwardly smiled, looking away briefly, "Jesus Christ.."

"Pleased to meet you, Ms. Y/n." Tatiana stated with a hint of amusement in her voice. "I've heard of you."

"Is that right?" Your voice cracked, "Can say the same for you!"

Tatiana was getting ready to say something when Thomas joined in on the conversation. You glanced at him and he glanced at you, noticing your slightly wide eyes. He looked over to Grace, who excitedly introduced Tatiana to Tommy, who cleared his throat. "Come on Tommy, aren't you impressed to meet a real duchess?"

"Well, I understand they charge a fee."

Tatiana was taken aback, lightly gasping. "Mr. Shelby, you are very direct."

"Too direct," Grace commented. Your nails dug into your elbows, the tension making you desperate to know what had occurred in the other room with Father Hughes.

"But it's true. I attend these events for the champagne... and for the chance to be treated like a duchess again." Tatiana turned her attention to Tommy. "You should have kissed my hand, Mr. Shelby."

Thomas paused, his gaze shifting from Tatiana's eyes to her outstretched hand and then back to her face. "Forgive me," he said dryly. He took her hand and kissed it, the gesture stiff and mechanical. Grace and Tatiana maintained unbroken eye contact, the air thick with unspoken tension.

"She was asking about my sapphire," Grace continued.

"I thought I recognised it," Tatiana replied smoothly. 

Yeah. Because you had it in your intimate areas, Tatiana.

"She said it was Russian. My husband has business in Russia... perhaps you know about it, Tatiana?" Grace's words were edged with suspicion. You bit your tongue, unable to contain your anxiety. You grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and took a long drink. Tatiana watched you with wide, amused eyes, while the waiter glanced back, slightly confused.

The awkwardness in the room was palpable, each second stretching longer as the unspoken words hung heavily in the air. "Well tonight is not about business, eh?"

"Is that why you were in the concert hall for about 10 minutes?"

"I think people are ready for dinner now, Grace." You gave a fake smile to Tatiana, who was listening to the conversation.

"No, no, I'm not done pumping people for money."

Tatiana cocked her head, "What is 'pump for money'"? Her Russian accent thickened with a small smile.

"It's what I do everyday." Thomas cut in, bored at this point and wanting the conversation to be over. And you couldn't lie, you wanted it over as well.

"You know each other, yeah?" Grace questioned knowingly, "You see, I am in charge of compiling the guest lists, but it is my husband who seems to know all of them."

"I hear he is very well connected."

Grace gritted her teeth, her frustration coming to the surface, "Now where does a duchess hear that?"

"In certain circles!" Tatiana answered almost condescendingly and you had laid your hand on Grace's shoulder, gently holding her back.

"Alright, that is enough. Ada?-"

"Grace, there is a Lady Dowager who wants to talk to you about coffee mornings. She had mentioned a 2,000 pound cash donation." Ada spoke softly so her words were only a whisper, and that had convinced Grace to finally leave the conversation, giving Tatiana a nod.

Finally, you could turn your attention to salvaging your dress. You tried to soak up the spilled champagne, looking around for a cloth. The conversation behind you continued, but you were more concerned about saving your dress from stains—it was far too nice to be ruined.

A few seconds later, you felt a cold hand grip your shoulder hard. Instinctively, your hand readied to swing at whoever had grabbed you, until you heard Thomas's urgent voice, "That fucking sapphire needs to get off Grace, fucking now."

"What?" you responded, your concern piqued by his tone. He released you, his eyes scanning the room for Grace. Without hesitation, you followed, lifting the skirt of your dress and speed-walking through the crowd, your eyes fixed on the familiar sight of her soft blonde hair.

By the time you reached them, Tommy was already with her, but his attempts at persuasion were failing as she twisted and turned away from him.

"Grace," You said, stepping down the stairs and moving through the crowd as they all raised their glass. "Please, let me take the necklace off. Please."

Grace turned her head, "Oh, are you trying to give it to Tatiana too?" Thomas took her chin and said a few words to her, and you stood there awkwardly, trying to manoeuvre how to get it off as easily as possible. Then they started kissing, and well, that had made it even more awkward.

"Hey, loves, I'm just going to-"

"Shall we go inside?"

"Can I please get this off?" You almost cried, beginning to get frustrated.

"You can once we get inside."

There was no inside.

There was none.

Life flashed before your eyes as you looked over Grace's shoulder, watching as a man with a gun pushed Polly out of the way, and yelling the words 'For Angel'.

he gunshot echoed through the room, reverberating off the walls. In an instant, Grace's weight collapsed into yours, pulling you down to the cold, unforgiving floor with the dying woman cradled in your arms. You could barely process the sight of Thomas still standing, a few drops of blood staining his glove. He quickly knelt beside you both, his face a blend of shock and desperation.

Your chest heaved, each breath a struggle. The sounds around you blurred into an unbearable cacophony. Your vision was a disorienting mix of brightness and haze; it felt as though you could see everything and nothing all at once. Amid the chaos, your gaze remained fixed on Grace's face. Her once-pristine dress now a vivid stain of red, a horrific contrast against her pale skin. Her blue eyes, the same eyes that had so captivated Thomas Shelby, now locked onto yours, a haunting mix of pain and fading life.

Desperately, you pressed your hand against the wound, trying to falter the relentless flow of blood. But it was useless. Panic surged through you, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. You felt as though you were drowning, submerged in the deep, endless ocean of Grace's eyes, unable to surface. Your body shook uncontrollably as you watched the life drain from her, helpless to stop it.

Thomas's voice cut through the fog, screaming for an ambulance, his cries filled with anguish. Around you, the room descended into pandemonium. Guests scrambled to escape, their footsteps a chaotic drumbeat against the floor. In the midst of the frenzy, Arthur and John were a chaos of fury, mercilessly beating the man who shot her to death.

Nothing made sense. The world was spinning out of control, a nightmare from which you could not wake. The weight of Grace in your arms, the spreading pool of blood, the frantic movements and screams. all of it melded into a surreal, horrifying picture. It felt like the ground had vanished beneath you, leaving you suspended in a hellish void.

Tears burned at your eyes, watching helplessly as Grace's blood soaked through your dress. You were powerless to stop it. Frozen like a deer in headlights, you held onto her, feeling her weight pulling you to the cold, unforgiving floor. You finally lifted your head to look at Thomas. He was silently crying, his face resting in her stomach, his hands shaking. The act of breathing became a torturous burden, each gasp for air was a agonising struggle that only deepened the ache in your chest.

Drowning. You were still drowning.

A gloved hand grasped your shoulder—Polly. Her eyes locked onto yours, filled with sorrow and urgency. She watched as you drowned in despair, unable to tear your gaze away from Grace, her blood seeping into every fibre of your dress. Your body shook, consumed by shock and the suffocating weight of grief, each breath a desperate gasp that never seemed to be enough. 

"Someone fucking get me somebody! Somebody!"

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"She passed on."

You sat on the edge of your guest bed. You couldn't move without Polly basically dragging you. Your hands clawed at each other, yours and Grace's dried blood mixing. You were silent, because there were no words you could say.

"Is there anything I can do, Y/n? Anything?" Polly questioned calmly, her hand stroking your hair back.

"Get me out of this fucking dress." You whispered so, so quietly, Polly could barely understand what you were saying. Nonetheless, she nodded. "Just, just get me fucking out."

"Are you sure you want m-"

"Get me out of this fucking goddamn dress!" you screamed, abruptly standing up and frantically trying to undo the zipper yourself. Your hands shook uncontrollably, and tears streamed down your face. Polly quickly intervened, trying to calm you down.

"Y/n, Y/n, look at me." You felt her tight grip on your shoulders, her hands moving to your wrists to hold your hands in place. You stood in front of her, repeating the three words. "I know, okay? I know. But, you need to stay still so I don't hurt you even more."

You were drowning again, Grace's eyes haunting you already. You couldn't breathe, god, were you even worthy of breathing right now? Grace was gone. She was gone. She died on your dress, your body. The feeling of her weight being pulled off of you repeated. You kept sinking in these thoughts, until you heard a sharp yell of your name.

"For god sake, look in my eyes. Look."

Polly's voice snapped you out of the drowning. Brown eyes, hers were brown. Brown like the wood you burned for fire that had kept you alive in the winters, or brown like the coffee you sipped on in the morning to keep you awake for the day. Polly's eyes were brown. You stared into them, feeling the ability to breathe again slightly. "I'm right here. You are here." Her voice slightly cracked, her one hand leaving its grip from your wrist to wipe the tears off your cheek. "You are safe, love. It is just you and I."

Polly watched as you swallowed, unable to say much except for your slight nod. Polly sighed, dropping her head. "May I please, please clean you up? I can't allow you to sleep like this."

Your hands were dried with Grace's and yours blood, and so were your arms. Your neck was stained red from when the gunshot punctured Grace. It looked like you had just murdered someone, or you survived a brutal murder.

You blinked tears away, giving a gentle nod again. Polly let out a sigh of relief, "Okay. We're just going to go across the hall, yeah?"

The feeling of when your dress was pulled off of you by Polly was a wave of emotions going through you. And entering the hot bath made you wince, covering your chest with your hands and your knees to your chest as well. Polly kneeled beside the bathtub with a rag in hand, gently moving your hair out of the way to scrub the blood off of your neck first.

"You know, I've never understood how one's life could end...so quickly. Even with being in this business for years," You spoke quietly, water trickling down your shoulder. Polly gazed at you, "How does a rich life end in an instant to a single bullet?"

"I don't know, sweetheart." Polly scrubbed at your collarbones, "I'd say it is a part of God, and what he plans for us."

You sat quietly, listening to water trickling and voices from downstairs. Polly breathed calmly, watching you think. You thinking at that moment was a bad idea, because the question that was voiced from your mouth had devastated Polly.

"Why couldn't the bullet hit me? I'm not a mother, a sister, anything..why couldn't it be me, Polly?"

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Days went by and you never left the bed except to go comfort Charlie who was only across the room. You had missed the funeral, you couldn't bear to look at her again. More guilt would rush back, and you couldn't handle that. Thomas hadn't even spoken to you since the gala, and you didn't even know if you were ready to yet.

The days were dark and gloomy, the sound of rain pattering against your windows heard much too often. When you weren't sleeping or sobbing into your pillow, you stared outside, wondering where Grace was, wondering if she had forgiven you and Thomas. Did she hate you? Did she hate the fact that you had to comfort her baby and she couldn't? You knew you had despised yourself for that, so no shock would appear if she did too.

The gun placed on the dresser across the room had caught your eye too many times to count, the more you gazed at it, the more you wanted to use it against yourself. But that'd be terrible, wouldn't it? Finding another bloody scene in Thomas Shelby's very own home, where you'd lie in your puddle of misery and desperation to get out of your mind. It'd be horrific when someone found you in that puddle. God, could you even imagine?

You didn't want to. And that is why you always tore your eyes away from the weapon.

The sound of Charles patting on the door caused you to stand up, grasping onto the wall for a slight second to recollect yourself from dizziness. You opened the door wide enough so you could pick him up, bringing him into your bedroom and laying him next to the pillow you slept on. He gave you a wide grin as you got into the bed with him, playing with a wooden toy he had left in the room hours before.

"Car."

"That's right. It is a car." You commented tiredly, giving him the best smile you could. "And what's this?" You picked up a wooden cat, his eyes brightening.

"A cat!"

"Exactly, kiddo."

"Where the fuck is my son?!" Thomas's voice boomed from the hallway, which your head snapped towards. Next thing you knew your door handle turned and then entered Thomas, obviously panicked. He saw Charlie and took a deep breath, standing in the doorway.

You didn't say a word to him, picking up Charlie and saying "Go with your daddy now, and tell me how many cars you see when you get back, yeah?" Charlie smiled brightly again as you handed him off to Tommy, giving Charlie a small kiss on his cheek. Tommy stared at the floor for a moment, holding Charlie in his arms.

Thomas cleared his throat, not saying anything, only giving a curt nod as he left your bedroom. Your eyes trailed down as the door closed.

The silence was exhausting, well, everything was exhausting. Each step across the creaking floorboards felt laborious as you made your way to get your pack of cigarettes and lighter. Struggling with the lighter once again, you eventually succeeded in igniting the cigarette. Standing there, you began to rock back and forth on your heels, your gaze drifting toward the window.

Suddenly, a glimmer caught your eye, the bleak daylight reflecting off the sapphire clips. A wave of overwhelming nausea surged through you as the sight of the beautiful jewels had become a haunting reminder. The only thought that consumed you was that Grace had given you those clips. The single sight of sapphires now turned your stomach, upbringing the image of the necklace she wore, its radiant blue gem tainted with her blood.

The sudden sounds of the boys screaming and yelling from below snapped you out of the drowning feeling, stepping towards the window and seeing a wagon leave the Arrow House premises, watching as Arthur and John and Finn chased after them. It was followed by the faint sound of Polly telling them to let him go, a shaky sigh leaving your lips as you took a puff from the cigarette.

Only minutes later you heard three knocks at your door, which were useless since the door opened anyways before you even spoke. You didn't turn around, hearing Polly's throat clear. "Hey, sweetheart,"

Polly stepped closer towards you, her heels clicking against the wood. You felt her hand fall on your shoulder, "You know, you're supposed to smoke the cigarette while it is burning."

Your gaze shifted to your left, where a snarky smile tugged at her lips, You took a drag of the cigarette, "Wise words, Polly."

Polly hummed, quietly resting her chin on top of your head. You tensed up slightly before relaxing into her touch. Because this was definitely what normal friends did. Definitely platonic. "Tommy is going to Wales..he'll be back in 3 days time." You hummed, "He took Charlie with him."

"I know," you whispered, taking another puff of the cigarette. "He came in here and took him. His toys are still on my bed." You paused, "Why aren't you downstairs with everyone else? I'm sure they're celebrating."

Polly was still using your head as a support as she spoke, "I'd much prefer being with you than the boys, love."

Just two super close gals talking. That is what you repeated in your head, trying to convince yourself you were insane for thinking she was flirting. "If that is alright with you, I could leave you alone-"

You felt Polly backing away, in which your instincts had ran ahead of your mind when your hand snatched her arm, swiftly turning around and pulling her back. "No, please don't leave me alone. Please."

Polly's eyes went wide with surprise, but as she read the regret etched across your face, her expression softened, and she nodded slowly. "Alright, alright, I'll stay. I'm here as long as you need me. Okay?" Polly reassured you gently, placing her cold hands on your cheeks. "I'm not going anywhere, doll. No need to panic."

Your lip began to quiver, and tears stung at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over. "What if-" You paused, struggling to take a deep breath, each inhale a struggle. "What if that isn't true? What if you get hurt? Like-like suddenly. We never thought Grace was going to be killed so soon, but here we are. What if that happens to you, Polly? What-what if?"

Polly remained silent, her eyes closing as she pulled you into her embrace, your head resting against her chest. She didn't have the words to reassure you that nothing would ever happen to her, how could she, when this was the life they had been raised into? There were no guarantees of safety, no promises she could make to make your fears disappear into thin air. She didn't even know how to calm that worry within herself. Yet, she held you tightly, understanding that her reassuring you at the moment was much more important than reassuring herself.

"I will never choose to leave you, sweet girl," she whispered into your hair, her voice a soft promise. Her eyes, however, were distant, fixed on the view outside the window, where uncertainty loomed like a shadow over her life. All of your lives, an impending doom, it was.

"If my heart's still beating, I'll be right here. If not, I'll always be in your heart."

𝐀𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐥 𝟐𝐧𝐝, 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟒

My brain has never been as fucked as it is, let's start with that.

Grace perished, in my arms. I still can't get it out of my mind. I should have been used to this by now, you know, the gruesome death and misery. But, it was different. It was Tommy's wife, Charlie's mum. She was important and loved. And I can still feel her blood on my hands, seeping into my dress and skin. Everytime I close my eyes, I see her eyes. I can't seem to get rid of the feeling, no matter how much I bathe myself or change clothes. I don't know where Polly put the dress, and I couldn't care much currently.

Charlie asks for his mum every single night, sobbing in his bedroom until I go over and hum him to sleep. I am so tired, but I'll do anything for that little boy. I know I'm not his real mum, god, I'd be selfish for trying to replace Grace. But, the boy needs someone who isn't Tommy, as much of a great dad he is, he is grieving and apparently is already back on business. I don't even want to leave Charlie in his room alone, for Christ Sake. I don't want him dead or kidnapped. Thomas would lose his shit, and I wouldn't be shocked if that would be the last ignition for him to shoot himself.

It isn't helping that business never stops for anything. Solomons and Sabini sent flowers, and as thoughtful that is to the blind eye, they know Thomas is vulnerable currently. We have the Russians, the worry of Communists upon us. Worst of all, the Changrettas. From what I have heard, John and Arthur weren't too fond of the order of killing Ms. Changretta, since they had her as a teacher when they were kids. Vicente needs to be dealt with, he had stolen Grace from Thomas, and I'm sure he will. It's all a cluster fuck, really.

God, and Polly. I love her dearly, so much. But, it is driving me mad that she keeps giving me different treatment than everyone else. How she only wants to be with me sometimes, or her touches that are so subtle, but she has to know what she is doing..right? Polly isn't that hollow. Maybe I am mad. I am mad for Polly and this fucking journal is evidence.

I'd most likely attempt to have religion, if one of our biggest enemies currently is a fucking priest.

God help us all.

With Love,

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"You look nice."

Tommy watched you in the mirror as you placed earrings in the piercings in your ears. A black dress was your outfit of choice for the night, white gloves covering your hands and your hair waving down your neck. You glanced at him through the reflection, popping the cap off of a lipstick. "Thank you."

The two of you were heading to the Wilderness House in the Hampton Court. You had to swallow down any protests you had of attending it, since you had chosen any peace that was still achievable. You hadn't seen Tatiana since that devastating night, you were preparing yourself to see her again, praying you wouldn't throw up at the sight. You didn't want to go, it was like a child inside of you, crying and begging to not go. And, you swallowed it all down.

"Tom, I need you to pin the back together for me, please." You picked up a safety pin from the vanity and handed it to him by holding your arm near your neck. He approached you, carefully bringing the two loose sides of your dress together and securing them with the pin. "Thank you."

"Are you ready?"

"Physically." You breathed out, turning around to face him. You fixed his tie, placing a kiss on his cheek. "It'll be all alright."

"Take your own advice for once, eh?" He commented as you smudged the lipstick off of his cheek with a handkerchief. You hummed, throwing the piece of cloth elsewhere.

"Let's go, Mr. Shelby."

The drive in the Bentley was so quiet. The sky was dark, a light blue hue covering it that you stared at. Your fingers fidgeted with your locket, repeatedly opening and closing the silver. You were soaking in any quiet you could get on the longer than usual drive, the sound of wind blowing against the car enough for you.

Once the car was stopped in front of the house, Thomas and you sighed in unison. The two of you looked at each other, before getting out of the car. You slightly regretted wearing a longer dress as you walked down the long pavement next to Thomas while the fabric kept grazing it. It was to a point where you just let it be, and took the cigarette Tommy had offered you before you entered the home.

"You ready?"

"No." You grumbled, pausing to use Tommy's lighter to light the cigarette. A guard had led you throughout the house to get you to the room where the group was. The sounds of violin kept coming closer and closer as you stepped up the stairs, Thomas helping you up as he held your gloved hand, your other hand picking up the skirt of your dress.

The door opened, "Your highness, Mr. Thomas Shelby, and Ms. Y/n..Shelby."

Thomas squeezed your hand before stepping into the room, and you followed behind him timidly. Everyone at the table raised, "Welcome, you both. I believe you both have met everyone apart from my wife, Grand Duchess Izabella Petrovna." The woman stared at you both, actually, everyone at the table stared at you and Thomas. You gave her a small smile, "Please, take a seat."

Another wave of nausea ran through you as the priest stared you down, your hand raising to rub between your collarbones. He sat directly across from you, your head only turning when Tatiana began speaking. "Before we start, Mr. Shelby, we must offer you our sincere condolences, on your recent loss," Tommy turned to look at Hughes, "Which some of us witnessed. Ms. Shelby, it was a terrifying picture to watch." You hummed silently, glancing down at your lap.

A thick silence coated the room, Tatiana again, leading the conversation. "Did you drive, Mr. Shelby?"

"Yes," Thomas answered instantly, still staring at Hughes. You were sure even Tatiana was uncomfortable by this point, as she desperately seemingly tried to add on.

Tatiana cleared her throat, her gaze flickering to you. "They say you're an expert on cars"

"Yes, I am." Thomas agreed.

Izabella joined in on the conversation, "I am curious, what was your father's profession?"

Thomas's gaze finally dragged away from John Hughes, in which John's gaze turned to you. You immediately looked at Thomas, listening to what he was saying. "Well, he told fortunes, and stole horses. Often, he would tell a man that his horse would be stolen, and they would marvel at his powers when it was." Izabella and Tatiana seemed interested and smiled.

Hughes wasn't so pleased, you had thought, as he unscuffed the collar of his shirt. Food had been passed around, and you didn't even have any appetite, as nice as it looked. "Before we eat, shall we say grace?"

You stared at John as he closed his eyes and put his hands together in disgust, along with Tommy. You took another cigarette from his pack that were peaking through his pocket, putting it in your mouth and beginning to light it.

"For what we are about to receive, may the lord make us truly thankful. Amen." He opened his eyes, which had landed right on you as you were still lighting the cigarette. "You know, as a woman, it isn't mannerly to pursue such habits in a holy space, such as lighting a cigarette."

Your eyes widened, your gaze sharpening as you took a drag of the cigarette, making sure to rightfully force the smoke into his face. Tatiana watched with amused eyes, "Think of it as the holy fucking light, Father Hughes." You emphasised his name, watching his jaw clench as you tapped ash onto your plate. "We aren't here to eat, or say grace, we are here to do business. Yes, Thomas?" You turned your head, waiting for him to continue the conversation.

"What I have to say can be said before the main course." He continued, clearing his throat. "Then I will leave you all to your evening."

"Grand Duchess, I must apologise for the bad manners of my compatriot-"

"This is a report on the mission's progress so far," You cut him off with a sickly sweet voice, pulling an envelope from your garter, which Father Hughes had no restriction from watching. "We have only made one copy for the sense of security, so, who shall I give it to?"

"My husband is in charge of this operation," You extended your arm to Leon, who took the envelope, "But since there will no doubt be vodka later, perhaps you should give it to me for safe-keeping." Izabella gave him a look, and that look gave him no choice as he begrudgingly gave it to her. The bloke looked extremely humiliated as he sat back down. "Speak, Mr. Shelby, as we eat." Izabella looked at you, giving you a very small smile of thanks.

Thomas sighed heavily, "Five factory foremen on our payroll have begun a campaign of victimisation against communist workers in five factories across Birmingham. Anger amongst the workers will grow, but we will control it." Izabella had begun to open the envelope, "On the night of June 21st, a general strike will be called across the city."

"Protests will develop into riots, and all the police who aren't already under our control will be busy. The city will be paralysed." You stated, taking another drag of your cigarette.

"So how will you move the train?" Leon questioned you both, as he took a massive gulp of his wine.

"We have two locomotive drivers who've been allocated to drive the midnight goods to London. The armoured vehicles will be waiting on the flatbeds."

"And ammunition?"

"The ammunition-"

"I'd have to say this soup is exceptional." John gave a dumbass smile, "Absolutely delicious." In return, you had accidentally kicked him under the table, taking a sip of your wine as you did so. He sucked in a breath. And you had ignored any sort of looks he was giving you.

"Ammunition, incendiaries will have been already packed up and crated for transport to Istanbul."

"And how long to London?"

"The train won't reach London. All the goods will be unloaded at a coal yard in St. Albans, and put onto Shelby Company trucks. From there, they will go directly to the Poplar Docks."

Izabella took a deep breath just as the man began speaking. "Your Highness, if you're having difficulty understanding his accent, I can go over the plan with you at a later date."

"They are adults, Father Hughes. They can indicate if they need clarification or translation," you replied firmly, resisting the urge to throw a glass at him.

Exhaustion weighed heavily on you, and you could no longer tolerate the conversation. Rubbing your eyes and yawning, you attempted to check Tommy's pocket watch, which was utterly useless. Observing Tommy write on a piece of cloth, you bit the inside of your cheek upon reading the words, "I have secrets."

Izabella took the cloth, reading it and nodding with a forced smile. Thomas then rose from his seat and offered his hand, which you accepted with grace. "Before I leave, I would like it known that I am unable to swallow food in the same room as this priest. Both of us." Thomas declared, glaring at the priest across from you. Despite your hunger, you couldn't eat in his presence either. The priest appeared offended, almost pouty, as Thomas concluded, "Enjoy your evening."

You quickly followed Thomas out the door, wrapping your arm around his. He glanced at you as you descended the stairs, "I apologise, I feel dizzy."

He remained silent as you both stepped outside. "Head to the car; I'll be there in two minutes," he instructed, gently pushing your back. Nodding, you began walking, wrapping your arms around yourself to protect against the cold wind.

Closing the car door, you closed your eyes and rested your head, not even bothering to try to listen to anything Thomas and Tatiana were speaking of. You only raised your head when you heard them almost right outside the door, your eyes widening at the fact that you probably needed a lot of context to know why Thomas had just gripped Tatiana's jaw extremely hard. He was saying something to her and you just stared, like a deer in headlights, until he let go. You swiftly pretended to be doing anything else than witnessing the ordeal, as he got into the car himself.

"That fucking cunt." He muttered, turning the ignition on to the Bentley. You glanced to your left, watching as Tatiana stared herself. You gulped, praying that Thomas wouldn't crash the car on the way home. Or kill you.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Later that night, you stood in front of your mirror again, gently taking all your jewellery off. You had just gotten Charlie to fall asleep and your door was slightly ajar god forbid he started crying.

You stared at yourself, noting how bloodshot your eyes were, or how a dark line lined your eyelid, or the fact that you were trying to recognise yourself from years ago. Where did she go? Where did that little girl go before everything, where she'd be called in for dinner or the best thing ever was the lollys she'd get? Or her greatest fear being the dark? You wanted to pull your hair out, yet, you only slowly pulled out the earrings in your ears, taking deep breaths. Why did you question so much when you were depressed?

"You look beautiful." The compliment came from the doorway, where Polly stood, pushing the door open. "Did I interrupt?"

"No, no," You tiredly smiled, giving her permission to come in. "You never interrupt, Pol."

Polly smiled, closing the door behind her, "How was the night?" She sat on the edge of your bed, pulling out a cigarette.

Sighing heavily, "Exhausting. Father Hughes disgusts me in every way a man could." You began, taking pins out of your hair. "Other than that, it was mainly just business about how the goods are going to be imported. We weren't there for extremely long," You rubbed your eyes again, taking a deep breath. "I hate business anymore."

"I know darling," Polly spoke, and you glanced at her through the mirror. "I do too."

"Glad I'm not alone." You snickered, "Can you do me a favour?"

Polly raised an eyebrow, "It depends."

"Could you please take the safety pin out of my dress and unzip it? I cannot reach for the life of me." Polly didn't say a word as she stood up, stepping closer towards you.

The blush on your cheeks couldn't be contained as you felt her breath on your neck as she moved your hair out of the way. One hand laid on your waist as she undid the safety pin, laying it on the vanity in front of you. All your mind could focus on was her breath fanning your neck every few seconds, the closeness of you both, just Polly Gray. She had slowly, ever so slowly, unzipped the back of your dress, her fingertips tracing the revealed skin. Her eyes made eye contact with yours in the mirror, and you could've sworn hers were darker than usual.

Once the dress was unzipped, she took a deep breath herself. "Anything else?"

"No," You whispered, gulping down whatever dignity you had left, the bright blush on your cheeks not leaving, and nor did her hand on your waist. You turned around to change, facing her in that process.

Polly's eyes were dark, her lips a brighter shade of red and her skin almost an olive tone in the lighting. Her perfume and the scent of cigarette smoke stuck to her clothes, and her breathing was a bit more sped up. You took a shuddering breath, the space between you both almost nonexistent. "Polly," You had finally breathed out, in which Polly's heart had skipped a beat when you said her name, every so softly. Her name falling from your lips so delicately had been what finally set her free from her mental restraints. 

Polly's lips clashed with yours, and the subtle taste of whiskey and hers greeted your senses. Were you asleep? Was it all a dream you'd wake up from and have to shake off? The feeling of her pulling you closer to her, her hands placed on your waist, had made you tense up, until you had finally melted into the sweet kiss.

You wanted to tell Polly how beautiful she was, her beautiful brown eyes that had just gazed into yours which had, for years, starstruck you. Or how her lips moved delicately with yours, surely painting her lipstick onto your lips, like a talented artist brushstrokes on a mesmerising painting. Your hands had timidly moved up to her face, your fingertips moving across her smooth skin, and your mouth slightly opened to give Polly control. You wanted to admire her, just in case this never happened again, you wanted to admire her as there was quiet, and nothing interrupting the both of you, and while her feelings didn't falter. You hoped this happened again.

And you were so exhausted, of all that was around you. And it was as if Polly cradled you from it all, her arms fully around your waist and her attention sparing to nothing else except you.

"My beautiful girl," She murmured against your lips, as her hand stroked a stray hair out of your face. Her voice was low, and you could barely speak, just, admiring her.

The faint cries of Charles echoed from the hall, which you, regrettably ignored. "Pol, I-"

The door burst open to Ada, "Y/n, do I need to-" Her eyes widened at the scene, Polly's hands on your waist and your faces mere inches from each other. You pushed Polly off of you quickly, not like you wanted to, anyways.

"Don't you know how to bloody knock, Ada?" Polly yelled sternly, and Ada's smirk just got wider, and wider. You stood there, basically a deer in headlights. "Well?!"

"I'm going to go check on Charlie." You nervously stated, walking out of the room as fast as possible and pushing through Ada. You felt tears beginning to burn at your eyes as realisation hit you along with Charlie's pleads, the rest of the night only a blur.

What was going to happen now?

[amidst-wonderland]

{random nora + michael (ft. george + rosie) headcanons}

{part. one}

[part three - coming soon?]

in family meetings nora will sit at the table but michael won't. the nearest he'll get is resting his hand on the back of nora's chair or learning against a wall behind her letting nora know he's always there. arthur jokes he acts like her guard-dog.

esme used to fancy alec when they were kids. nora took great amusement in teasing her when they went back to glasgow for his wedding.

nora's favourite past-time is taking her kids and nephew to the football on a sunday morning like her dad used to do when she was little.

michael's convinced nora's a witch (he's go no reason to really, but he's never met anyone with her dememour - meaning, the kid's just gotta get out more.)

nora's auntie isa adored michael (she didn't know much about him with her deteriorating capacity and nora purposely never told her about the baby. she only knew michael as this sweet, country boy her niece was seeing before passing.)

nora and polly's relationship is a little peculiar (because in a sense, she baby-trapped nora for her own gain with michael, which nora also benefitted from) and she likes the fact that nora is a nice girl that will sway to do the right thing by michael and can stand up for herself, but it's a double-edged sword because she doesn't like how nippy she can be with her son even when he's being an arse.

polly does know michael isn't the easiest person in the world to deal with so she did also threaten him that if he ever raised his hands to his wife or his kids, she'd cut them off.

michael's picked up a few of nora's speaking habits, most notably he does say 'aye' or use certain phrases / metaphors from her.

nora is the only one of the 'shelby women' who can drive

nora loves going to aryshire with the kids and will sometimes just sit on the sand, close her eyes and imagine she's right back at the beach next to her old home down in england with michael. because for all the difficulties they had, it was the last time they truly felt like a little family unit.

[welcometogrouchland]

Amphibia and The Owl House for the ask! also hope your stomach gets better :(

Yippee my shows!! Also yeah I feel better now I just had to lie down for a while and drink a lot of water 👍

For TOH:

The first character I first fell in love with: ooh that's a toughie! I binged the first season right before s2 started airing so my memories are fuzzy. Maybe...Lilith or Willow? Luz hadn't quite cemented herself as my fav until season 2 and subsequent rewatches

The character I never expected to love as much as I do now: probably Amity? I went into season 1 knowing she had a redemption but when I saw her in her first appearance it was on SIGHT. I really warmed up to her though over the course of the show, and now I enjoy her a lot! I'm proud of how far she's come. Also probably Caleb bc we knew so little about him at first that I didn't see how he could become a fan favorite for anyone. Then Hollow Mind happened and. You get it. OH WAIT LAST ANSWER FOR THIS- Camila! Not because I ever thought she was a bad mom but because I didn't think they'd give a parent character so much depth. I love what they did with her in seasons 2 and 3 so much

The character everyone else loves that I don’t: uhh maybe Belos?? In certain circles at least. Interesting guy but I don't have much fondness/affection for him, y'know? Or Alador. He's aight but clouds on the horizon made him a bit...flat, for me. Also this is less of a thing now but not too long ago BOSCHA oh my god. Ppl acting like the show not spending time on her was a failure like. Okay! Sure! Let's just say things now, ig! I much prefer what they did with her in ftf. It's not redemption exactly but it's acknowledgment that she's just a kid. A shitty kid but still

The character I love that everyone else hates: KIKIMORA MAN. I know I know I'm also mad they spent all of follies at the coven day parade building her up as potentially sympathetic only to steer away from that route again and again as if they changed their mind BUT. I fucking love this horrible fail creature. No backbone, no morals, no prospects, no bitches. Beefing with teenagers and exiled from her family home and place of business. Pathetic. Get her ass!!!

The character I used to love but don’t any longer: oh that's a complicated one. I know I also said she grew on me unexpectedly but the answer to this one might also be Amity. Not in the sense that I stopped liking her, but in the sense that other characters caught my attention more as time went on. Rip to Amity, still love u. I am just a Willow and Luz girlie

The character I would totally smooch: most of the women I am being real with you this show is overflowing with cute character designs

The character I’d want to be like: honestly? Eda. Yeah she's got problems and she's not the ideal mentor you'd expect but she's just such a cool confident older woman who doesn't let ppl control her life

The character I’d slap: I'd say Belos but that'd be too obvious (and rewarding). Instead imma say Boscha. This is not the right way to deal with highschool bullies but I do not care. This isn't about her. This is about me. And I wanna slap her just a wee bit. It's fine I'm not that much older than her I'm allowed to

A pairing that I love: sigh. Hubtlow

A pairing that I despise: b*schlow. Bully/victim ships I hate thee. Loathe thee, even. Also I definitely don't despise it but can I please stop getting l*nter jump scared. I don't go there let me out. Stop putting it on my feed

NOW FOR THE FROG SHOW AHAHA!!!

The first character I first fell in love with: unsure tbh! Maybe Polly but I know she definitely wasn't as violent/funny at the beginning of the series. Probably Anne or (depending on how fast I binged, I cannot remember) maybe Sasha

The character I never expected to love as much as I do now: Anne or Sasha I think! Both start off as like. Semi-unlikeable characters (Sasha more so than Anne), which I appreciate now in retrospect, but at the time I couldn't picture myself getting as invested in them as I got. Also. How would you guys feel if I said andrias (I DIDN'T WANNA LIKE HIM. EVEN WHEN HE WAS BEING A JOLLY GOOFBALL I KNEW THE OTHER SHOE HAD TO DROP AND I WAS PREPARED TO HATE HIM. AND THEN THEY INTRODUCED DARCY AND GAVE US THIS NEW DYNAMIC AND CONTEXT AND JUST. MAN!!!)

The character everyone else loves that I don’t: okay, it's not that I don't love her, but Marcy is definitely my least fav in the calamity trio. Again, not because I dislike her, I just like Anne and Sasha a lot more, y'know?

The character I love that everyone else hates: tbh I'm not in the fandom enough to know who is and isn't hated. Was Sasha ever hated? Maybe by some but idk

The character I used to love but don’t any longer: don't think this one really applies to anyone in amphibia? A weird one that kinda matches is I used to think valeriana was like. Mysterious and cool and then they didn't do much with her after the second temple and I was like. She's just kinda there now, huh?

The character I would totally smooch: IDK MAN THE SHOW IS 90% FROGS AND PRETEENS!!!! I AM NOT KISSING THEIR ASSES THEY ARE SLIMY (THE PRETEENS INCLUDED!)

The character I’d want to be like: again, 90% of them are frogs or preteens. Maybe Anne? I like how far she's come and how far she's still willing to go at the end, turning down ultimate power in the name of keeping the world safe and staying with the people she loves. Also I want cool anime powers /j

The character I’d slap: Sasha but only if it was s1-s2 Sasha bc I love her and I feel like she needs it. Girl. Get a grip

A pairing that I love: hehehe sashanne <3

A pairing that I despise: DON'T SHIP THE HUMAN GIRLS WITH FROGS. THAT FEELS LIKE THE EASIEST THING MAN!!!

[thetaoofbetty]

It’s very interesting how no one is speaking that living in Riverdale isn’t something Betty has expressed she wanted to do. At least not after she overcome her fantasy filled dream of Archie on half way season 1. She wanted to leave Riverdale. Jug and Betty even fantasized about leaving Riverdale and the problems behind. That was their plan before they had to go their separate ways after high school but solving mysteries together in other place was literally their whole thing. The lack of care about what Betty wants regardless her future and how no one (Archie) seems to ask her what she wants is not a good look. I don’t care if it is for Vale proposes because it sends a terrible message. I truly hope they made Betty speak on what she truly wants when the inevitable break up happens because I don’t like this passive attitude they are giving her. We saw Betty develop into this confident, outspoken person only for them to turn her into season 1 Betty.

i don't think betty was all that passive in season 1 after the first couple of episodes or so tbh. i think she was passive with the people that had a history of making her feel badly about herself but she's shown standing up for herself at different points.

for all the ways some people won't let her out of that pink dress, a lot of people also forget that she's currently extremely traumatized?

she said it herself? she feels dismembered. she was numbing herself in s5 and she's still doing it. it sucks that none of the characters have moved very far past where they started after the time jump but that's where we are i guess.

and yeah, it sucks that no one asks betty what she wants but, for real, who outside of a certain someone really ever has? feeling stuck and guilty (and yeah, passive) after the tbk and polly's death makes sense for where she is at the moment.

it's especially 🥴 right now because betty's pov is crucial to her plotline and we're still waiting for it. like, yeah, i'd like archie to ask betty what she wants. and hopefully we get that because regardless of ships, this isn't really something i want his pov on. betty's possible pregnancy being about his legacy is such a bad road to take that if it's not on purpose for archie's arc later on, i'm gonna need someone to hold my earrings because i will be getting in a fight in the pop's parking lot.

[finalvortex]

today I am thinking about the episode Contagi-Anne

I asked myself, what's the earliest example of Anne taking on responsibility - not chronologically (which would be the thing Marcy mentions in The Dinner), but the first visible in the show? At first I was going to point to Snow Day, but then I remembered this one.

In Contagi-Anne, Anne fakes being sick to get out of a day of hard work, but the Plantars actually get sick, and she takes it upon herself to look after them. Anne blames herself for the Plantars being ill, and therefore takes on the responsibility of curing them.

Contagi-Anne is one of the episodes I've pointed to before as being strange morally, because with that setup, you would think the episode would be about being honest and, you know, not lying to get out of things you don't want to do. But it isn't. When Anne finally comes clean and admits she isn't sick, we get this reaction:

Hop Pop: Don't be ridiculous, kiddo. You might've just gotten sick with the rest of us. Sprig: Yeah, we'd probably all be dying now. Polly: At least someone made it.

Given how much Anne did for them, it's understandable that the Plantars aren't upset with her, but given how they're characterized elsewhere, I don't think they would have been anyway. Even though Anne feels like she's at fault for their illness, she isn't, and the Plantars make that clear. In fact, if she had gone out into the rain with the rest of them, she might have gotten sick too, and then there would have been no one to take care of the Plantars. It's arguable that her desire to relax and take a day for herself would have led to the best possible outcome, if only she hadn't used the wrong mushroom.

So what's my point? Well... the confusion between responsibility (duty, obligation) and responsibility (fault, blame, guilt). Anne feels like she is to blame for what happened to the Plantars, so therefore she is responsible for what happened, and has a duty to fix it. Which is the wrong way to look at it!

Of course, there's a certain degree to which you need to make up for mistakes you've made and the ways you might have harmed people, but that happens when you're genuinely at fault for what happened. And Anne keeps shouldering the responsibility (blame) for things that aren't really her fault to begin with.

[pietromelim]

A Thomas Lightwood Bisexual Story (Part 1)

Art by NairaFeather

Takes place AFTER Chain of Gold,so will have spoilers.

Thomas Lightwood was currently at the Devil Tavern,drinking a ginger beer,and trying to understand his own feelings.

He didn't want to admit that he was struggling to understand what was happening to him. After telling Alastair Carstairs to never talk to him again,he expected to feel lighter,the rumors Alastair spreaded about his father were awful,and it caused pain to his family. It made Gideon angry,it made Sophie cry. And yet,there he was,wondering if he was too hard on Alastair.

Couldn't he simply forget all about it? Maybe that was why he asked for the beer in the first place,but then again,getting drunk would only make him forget for a period of time. He would remember eventually.

Still,it wasn't like he had a better idea anyway. The Devil was quite full this night,werewolves screaming and having fun,vampires drinking blood with some kind of weird extra ingredient,not to mention the faeries and their silly giggles.

It was hard to focus on the drinking with all that noise,Polly herself was quite curious when she saw Thomas enter all by himself. He couldn't blame her,The Merry Thieves were always together,it was hard for one of them to show up alone there.

But Thomas desperately needed to be alone. He loved his friends,but James, Matthew and Christopher wouldn't understand what he was going through now,and that was not a surprise for Thomas.

-Give me another one Polly,please.-Thomas asked,Polly stared at him with a concerned expression.

-You sure about this? Aren't your parents worried about you or something?-She asked.

-They always are,but i don't have time for their blabbering,at least not today.-Said Thomas.

-Got it.-Polly said,giving Thomas another ginger beer.

Thomas gave her a weak smile,and drank from his beer. In times like these,he wished he had the same ease Matthew had in getting drunk. Too bad,it would still take a little more for him to get there.

-Mind if i take a seat beside you?-Asked a female voice,unknown to Thomas,but she had a strong accent.

-Not at all.-Thomas said,turning his head to see who was the woman.

She had black hair,almost the same color of James',her eyes were light brown,and her skin light.

But what really caught Thomas' attention was the Voyance Rune on her hand. She was a Shadowhunter.

Thomas knew he couldn't hide his shock for a moment. A Shadowhunter girl in the Devil Tavern? Surely she was either mad or didn't knew of the reputation of the place.

-A fellow Shadowhunter in a place like this? Surely this was the last thing i thought i'd find here.-She said.

Thomas carefully chose his next words. It was kind of weird,he grew up with three women in his house,his mother and his two sisters. It was easy for him to talk with Lucie,Cordelia,even other girls that usually showed up in the balls. So why did it felt weird talking to this one?

-Pardon me,have we met before?-Asked Thomas.

-We did not. Or maybe we did. I can barely remember faces that i see in balls or other occasions.-She said.

Thomas didn't knew what to say. Surely he wasn't expecting anyone besides Polly to talk to him. He never really understood why some people would simply approach him for a conversation.

If Matthew were there,he could chat with the girl himself,or maybe if James were there,he would come up with a excuse to make them leave.

But they were not there,and Thomas had to be a gentleman,or Sophie would consider herself a terrible mother.

-I do believe we have not met before. My name is Thomas Lightwood.-He said,waiting for her answer.

-I am Giovanna Monteverde,pleased to meet you,Thomas. I am relieved to see i will have some company tonight.-She said.

-Monteverde? I think this is the first time i have met one of your family. Which is a little strange,considering that i have lived in Idris for a good part of my life.-Said Thomas.

-It is the first time i meet a Lightwood myself! Though your family is a lot more popular than mine. I do believe it is because of a certain Benedict Lightwood?-She said,smirking.

Thomas nearly blushed.

-Oh yes,there is quite a story there. Not really something us,Lightwoods,appreciate anyway.-Said Thomas.

-I see. Anyways,i have always been at the Rome Institute. Have you ever visited there?-She asked.

-I have not. But what is an Italian Shadowhunter doing in London?-Asked Thomas.

-I turned eighteen a few weeks ago,and i have decided to visit the London Institute. After all,it was here where the Mandikhor attacks happened,was it not?-She asked.

Thomas blinked,he didn't even liked to remember the Mandikhor. Their deadly poison took Barbara from him,and that wound would never heal.

-I see. So you took interest in London due to that? I assure you it was quite an awful time for us all. Luckily,we have an antidote,so if more Mandikhors show up,they won't be able to harm us that way never again.-Said Thomas.

-Oh i took interest in London for many different reasons. I heard balls in this time of the year are absolutely gorgeous. I'm excited to see all by myself.-She said.

But Thomas could barely understand her. The noise was way too loud. To be expected,after all,they were in the Devil Tavern.

-Would you like to talk in a more silent place?-Asked Thomas.

She nodded,and followed him upstairs.

When they got in the room,the thought of being alone with a girl crossed Thomas' mind,causing a strange sensation.

It was a little hard for Thomas to understand himself sometimes. He knew that people were different from each other. Even in aspects,that technically,they should be all the same.

One example was his very cousin,Anna Lightwood. He knew that dressing like a man wasn't the only thing Anna did. He knew she could seduce any girl she wanted,even though she was a girl herself.

But Thomas didn't quite felt like that. He felt attraction to girls,he knew that. But it wasn't only to them. His time in the Shadowhunter Academy made him realize that.

He felt attraction to boys too. But it seemed way too messy to think about that. He wasn't sure of the reactions something like that would cause.

His family did seem to accept that. His Uncle Gabriel and his Aunt Cecily loved Anna,and they got really mad when people used bad words to describe their daughter. All the others seemed to care for Anna the same way. His parents,his cousins too.

Still,Thomas simply didn't felt ready to reveal anything. Perhaps he was still figuring out who he trully was.

-Quite scandalous,isn't it? What would our society think if they saw a lady and a gentleman that do not have an understanding getting in a room together?-She said,laughing.

-Is that a problem for you? Also,we are only having a conversation. How could something like that be scandalous?-Thomas asked.

-Oh,i don't have a problem i assure you. But my parents would definitely have,if they knew i came to a place like this,they would be quite furious with me.-Giovanna said.

-They are not with you? Well,that's not surprising. I went to Madrid all by myself as well.-Said Thomas.

-You did? Well,seems like we have quite a bit of things in common. We are both 18 years old. Both went to different countries to visit different Institutes. And both don't really care about this whole "understanding" thing.-She said.

After Thomas locked the door,Giovanna suddenly kissed him.

It took him a few seconds to understand what was happening there. She was a stranger,still,they were kissing. Maybe he was not crystal clear in his intentions? He really brought her there just to talk.

They broke the kiss,both in need of air. Her lips tasted like alcohol and something sweet,almost like strawberry.

-Don't take me wrong,i don't really do this with every gentleman i see.-She said.

-I think you may have misunderstood me. I wasn't planning on...-Thomas was saying,but he didn't even knew how to finish that sentence.

-I was though. Unless you have an understanding with some lady in London? If you do,i am more than ready to leave.-Giovanna said.

Thomas just stood there for a moment,thinking about the answer he could give her. He could lie,lie and make her leave him alone there. Seemed like the more reasonable thing to do. He was a gentleman,and he didn't want to ruin her reputation,like a man once did with Eugenia.

Still,was that what he really wanted? If she was visiting London,then certainly they would meet again,probably at the Institute at any moment. But he could have this little secret of his.

-Should i leave,Thomas?-She asked again.

Thomas shook his head.

-No.-He said,and kissed her again.

They fought for dominance,deepening the kiss as they moved towards the small bed in the room. It wasn't a big room really,but then,Thomas never thought he would ever do something like this.

Giovanna unbottoned his shirt,revealing Thomas' tanned muscled body,she ran her hands over his chest and his hard abs,it was quite the sensation.

-Raziel bless the Shadowhunter training.-She said,Thomas almost laughed. It was surely something a lady should never say. But he didn't care,and Giovanna didn't seemed to care either.

-Is this okay for you? I truly do not wish to do something you are not okay with.-Thomas said.

-Do not worry,Thomas. Nobody in London knows me,and i don't really care about what people think of me. And it isn't like you are ruining me or anything. I want this too.-She said.

-Very well then.-Thomas said,taking his shirt off and laying with her on the bed.

"The Next Morning"

Thomas woke up with the sunlight on his eyes. He still was at the Devil's,and the memories of the last night invaded his mind.

Giovanna. They had slept together. It was definitely one of the most amazing nights he ever had. Surely one he would never forget.

He wasn't wearing any clothes,and only the bed sheets covered him.

-Damn.-Thomas said,after realizing that all his clothes were scattered on the floor. It was quite a wild night.

He heard footsteps,though he wasn't really sure if he had completely woke up yet. Perhaps he was still sleeping?

-How strange. I don't really remember locking the door after we left.-Said a voice he knew well.

Matthew. What bloody hell was he doing there so early?

-I'm pretty sure we left the key with Thomas.-Said James.

-We didn't find him anywhere though.-Said Christopher.

"Oh bloody damn hell!" Thomas thought,they were all here? And he wasn't even dressed!

-Thankfully,i always bring my spare key with me.-Said Christopher.

There was no time to do anything. They entered the room and saw Thomas in that situation.

All of them looked absolutely in shock. Matthew looked like he was about to laugh. Christopher was blinking quite fast,and James gasped.

-Tom? What on earth? Why is the room this messy? Are these your clothes on the floor?-James asked.

Thomas looked at the window. Alastair crossed his mind. He was probably awake and living his life as if nothing happened. He probably didn't even care if Thomas wouldn't like to talk to him ever again.

Yet,he was still there,on his mind.

Perhaps there was more than just attraction and sex in the world. Perhaps love was an actual possibility.

But Thomas wasn't sure if he would ever figure that out.

[thevoidwell]

Reply to the Rook King post: maybe bc Iseult isn't a Voidwitch? Of the four Voidwitches we know of, only Esme, Corlant, and Aeduan are confirmed. We don't know who Iseult's dad is, so he could be Far Eastern. We know Far Easterners manipulate Threads to do magic, so Iseult could have inherited Sight of Threads from her mom and Thread manipulation from dad. Which brings me to the Crackpot Theory: nomatsis are pale-eyed like Sightwitches because the Moon Mother has the Sight of Threads, not fate.

and adding to that, Iseult is the Moon Mother, Leopold is the Trickster, and Owl is Owl (if that makes any sense). So, the Rook King visited Iseult because she's not a Voidwitch. In fact, she's not special by Witchlands standards (she's not the Cahr Awen or a Paladin), so it fits with her character arc of learning to value herself. What I can't figure out is how the Moon Mother got the Sight (of Threads), and why Eridysi and the other Sightwitches couldn't get it. / 2

Sorry, I don't have a tumblr even though I've been with the fandom since Truthwitch came out, so I replied to your post entirely with anonymous asks. I hope it reaches you in one piece :) / end

WOW this is something I had never considered before, anon, but...wow!!  You make a seriously good point here, especially because there’s still so little we know about the Moon Mother and the Fareastern culture and everything.

Your theory about the Moon Mother seeing Threads and not fate is a really intriguing concept, because those are both really the two most important influences on the world, represented (in this theory) by the Moon Mother and Sirmaya:  the Threads that bind the living to reality and the fate that affects their entire lives.  It would also explain, to a certain extent, why the prejudice towards Nomatsis began.  They arrived from the Fareastern continent, where people could manipulate Threads, which must have intimidated them a good deal.  Of course, this fact was probably lost to time, but the stigma continued.

(On a side note, your theory that Iseult’s father is Fareastern makes me extraordinarily happy.  Lately my only guess as to who he is has been Corlant, an utterly repulsive thought, but given everything with Gretchya, it’s a real possibility.)

The only thing I disagree with here is your point about Leopold, because he isn’t Nomatsi.  I don’t think he can be Trickster from the legends of the Moon Mother and everything, because he’s Cartorran and it doesn’t seem to make sense for someone who isn’t Nomatsi to be someone of great significance in Nomatsi culture.  However, given the way that Polly acts and given the mystery surrounding his Threads, it doesn’t surprise me that Iseult would compare him to Trickster.

As for the Sightwitches, they didn’t get sight of Threads, but they certainly got a different kind.  I agree though, I don’t know why they specifically couldn’t see Threads in the first place.  This whole concept would definitely be a major plot twist, and I can’t wait to see where this goes.  Like I said, I never considered anything like this before, but...WOW.

And don’t apologize!  My inbox is always open for theories, questions, anything!  And it’s always nice to talk to other people in the fandom 🙂

[bugheadfamily]

Day 7 - Fanfic Author Appreciation Week

(thank you @betty-cooper for this gorgeous gif!)

*waves* Hi everyone! @bugggghead here. Both @theheavycrown and I have been trying our hardest to spotlight every single author in this fandom but did you know there are more than we originally anticipated?!?! Did you know we have so many authors in the Bughead fandom alone that 70 just wasn’t enough?! Because we have too much love to give, we’ve chosen to do some author spotlights on the @bugheadfamily blog as well and spread AS MUCH love as we possibly can!!!

Today is the final day of Author Appreciation Week! So we will be highlighting fifteen authors today and two of their works that we recommend you check out right here!

@quirksandcaffeine (ao3)

It Happened One Night  (E - 7/?)

Summary: "'How about a toast instead?' he said, raising his glass.

'Sounds like perfection,' she said, leaning her elbow onto her crossed knee and placing her chin into her hand, holding up her glass with the other.

'To tonight,' he said as he clicked her glass with his own.

They each took a sip, looking each other in the eye as they swallowed. Her eyes flicked down to his lips as he leaned into her ear. Her heart started beating harder at the smell of his aftershave.

'Go wait for me in my office,' he whispered as he kissed her on a cheek."

Gods and Monsters (E - 1/1)

Summary: "In a land of gods and monsters, I was an angel." Betty, her cheerleading uniform, and her dark side visit Jughead at FP's trailer.

@nimmieamee (ao3)

Three Wishes (E - 18/18)

Summary: Betty Cooper wants to return to a time when her mother was more consistent, Jughead was more hers, and a looming civil war wasn't breaking up her friendship with Veronica. Veronica wants to keep her friendship with Betty and for the town of Riverdale to recognize everything the Lodges have to offer. And Alice isn't being upfront about what she wants.

But at least one of them will see all her wishes come true.

Are We Dark Enough Yet? (T - 1/1)

Summary: Scenes from the town with pep! (That is, Perpetually Enraging Plots).

@cheryllclayton​ (ao3)

I Could Be Your Hero (T - 1/1)

Summary: After a tragic end to her relationship results in bullying and hate, Betty Cooper struggles to hold on in a world where she feels invisible...where she feels nothing except for the siren call of Sweetwater River....And after a nasty encounter, Betty makes a decision that will change her life forever...Will this once vibrant soul be lost to the icy abyss of her sorrow before an unexpected hero can convince her to live...

Til' There Was You (M - 5/?)

Summary: Betty Cooper's life has been anything but easy and at 25 she was still struggling to find herself.

Jughead Jones wasn't the type to go looking for love, but what happens when it finds you? Or more correctly, when it hits you like a ton of bricks when you least expect it....

@shirlygallagher​ (ao3)

What’s Past is Prologue - series (M - 9 works)

Summary: A chronicle of firsts...A tale of discovery...A story of love...~~~

In Between The Sweet Hereafter (M - 1/1)

Summary: What could have happened in that kitchen? Takes place during and after episode 13.~~~

@fictitiousoshine​ (ao3)

Mercy (M - 13/?)

Summary: Innocent and Naive Betty Cooper wants to run away from heinous man who has her captive for years. She seeks Toni’s help for arranging cash but Toni has different plans for her that include Serpent Prince Jughead Jones.

@kazookidissosoabuggie​ (ao3)

A Night To Remember (NR - 1/1)

Summary: Jughead and Betty went through a bad rough patch, something they almost couldn't fix. When they did eventually reconcile, Jughead feels terrible for what he had done to her. After he pulls a romantic stunt, the night they spend with each other turns magical instantly.

Anything's Possible with Us, Cooper. (M - 1/1)

Summary: Jughead punches somebody after they body shame her and Betty finds odd but extremely sexy.

@hbiccjsblog (ao3)

Citas Amor (T - 11/11)

Summary:   Betty Cooper works for Scarlet magazine along with best friends Veronica Lodge and Kevin Keller. Veronica wants to work in fashion but has been stuck on the desk for a couple of years now. Kevin runs the social media plat forms. Betty Cooper well she's a journalist after all. It runs in her blood. After having a very heated conversation with her mum about setting her up with a boyfriend. Before there family holiday to Spain. Her Best friend Veronica Lodge suggests a fake boyfriend. Her publisher over hears the conversation and wants her to write an article about fake relationships.

Touring Flame (M - 9/?)

Summary: Betty Cooper has just been deployed to Afghanistan for her first tour of her career. She is the medical solider for the tour. Joining the army way a spur of the moment decision. If she didn't get through well at least she can say she tried. Jughead Jones was on his 4 tour in Afghanistan. He was the Head of his group. A fairly experienced soldier. He has a heart of steel. He's seen and experienced a lot. He was expecting this tour to be the same as his other tours. Expect this was different. A certain blonde pony tail, green eyes type of different.

@judgejuggie (ao3)

from pink perfection to seduce scarlett (T - 17/?)

Summary:  Betty is living in her sister Polly's shadow, darkness clouding her vision, afraid to show her true colors to anyone. With a little push from a new student named Veronica Lodge, Betty joins the vixens and gains the confidence she has always wanted. Her bright smile and confidence get noticed by Southside Serpent Jughead Jones in a diner at Pop's, and Betty for the first time in her life feels something other than the darkness that's been following her around.

Of course, there will be some obstacles along the way, one by the name of Cheryl Blossom, and the other may be a gang. But Betty wants change, and she's finally ready to go for it.

love and the law (M - 5/?)

Summary:  What if there was more to Betty’s vendetta against Chuck Clayton, more to her darkness? What secret is Betty working to keep buried? Can Jughead help her through? And, what else will come their way? Join this emotional, heart-breaking journey to heal and learn that love really can conquer all.

@jordansconnor (ao3)

some aces up your sleeve (M - 5/9)

Summary:   In Las Vegas, the only things hotter than the summer days are the card tables on the Strip. High roller Jughead Jones lives for the heat, spending his days in board rooms and his nights at high stakes poker games, until the night a mystery girl takes the seat across from him. From that moment on, his luck starts to change in ways he may not be able to handle.

Keeping Up with the Joneses (E - 1/1)

Summary: Jughead Jones is the undisputed king of Riverdale. His grandfather is the mayor, his father owns half the town and controls Riverdale’s shady side as leader of the Serpents, and Jughead is Riverdale High’s student body president and editor of the school paper. His relationship with Betty Cooper, Southside student and new Serpent recruit, could bring it all crashing down.

@soyforramen (ao3)

Cry to Me (G - 1/1)

Summary: Quick one-shot. When Betty and Jughead find themselves stood up by a certain red-head, a little dancing goes a long way.

Persuasion comes to Riverdale - series (T - 2 works)

Summary: Years after he left without a word, an engagement throws Jughead Jones back into Betty Cooper’s life. The only question is, will she let him back in? Or, Persuasion comes to Riverdale.

@srainebuggie (ao3)

Stronger Than Me (M - 11/11)

Summary: Betty Cooper wasn’t like most girls. She was strong and independent, leather was her skin and hitting the punching bag her saving grace. Betty didn’t commit to people, she had fun. When she moves to Riverdale, she shows up at the White Wyrm looking for a job.

Jughead Jones wasn’t like most men in the Southside. He sported his Serpents jacket rarely, lived in a penthouse apartment, and was the owner of their towns infamous club, the White Wyrm. Jughead didn’t give his heart to anyone, he had fun. When a new woman moves to Riverdale, she shows up at his bar looking for a job

As Betty and Jughead spend more time together on the job, will they break their own rules and admit it’s more than just fun?

Future Bughead - series (NR - 5 works)

Summary: Jughead and Betty broke up years ago and reunite at the grand opening of Veronica's clothing store in New York, the dress she is wearing reveals a small tattoo on her ribs, when Jughead notices, he asks about it. At first her face goes red and she tries to ignore her embarrassment, but he pulls up his dress shirt and reveals his own small tattoo on his side 

@sweetbettycooper (ao3)

The INXS Life (M - 8/?)

Summary: Two gangs alike in tyranny both holding two souls that are destined to be forever entwinned.

Was their love tragic or the circumstances around them or was it the events that would occur in the coming months that would make their love the most tragic of all.

Jughead feared on this afternoon in summer, of the consequences that were hanging in the stars.

She was gorgeous. Like the angel of death had come to Riverdale. Jughead new he had to have her.

Or Serpent Jughead meets Ghoulie Betty, forbidden love, Gang wars, Love, Passion.

@witty-tv (ao3)

Exhale (M - 7/?)

Summary: Anxious stoner babes Cheryl Blossom and Betty Cooper have been best friends and roommates since freshman year of college. Cheryl and Toni Topaz are seriously dating, drawing Betty and Toni’s best friend Jughead Jones together. Betty is instantly attracted to Jughead and Jughead is immediately intrigued by Betty. The two become friends, and as they grow closer, Jughead slowly but surely starts to fall for Betty - and eventually Betty shows Jughead the ways weed can help his insomnia.

@dreamer757 (ao3)

The Typewriter (G - 1/1)

Summary: Jughead goes to Betty's house after he opens her gift in 2x09.

The Sad Breakfast Club (T - 11/11)

Summary: A Breakfast Club AU where Archie, Betty, Jughead, Veronica and Kevin aren't friends, but end up spending a whole Saturday together at school.

@merrybughead (ao3)

Announcement  (G - 1/1)

Summary: “I - I know it’s personal, but are you guys thinking about it?" Jughead shrugged him off. “Wait, you look weird.” Archie narrowed his eyes to study Jughead’s appearance, “Are you smiling?” “I don’t smile.” "Why are you so happy?” “Betty and I are just...Happy,” She smuggly stated. Cocking a brow to the side, he said, “Oh, I get it.” “Honestly I don’t think you do,” Jughead laughed which sent his ginger friend into laughter as well.

How were they supposed to tell their friends if they had already been guessing and hinting towards it?

Leather and Cotton - an unlikely combination (G - 1/1)

Summary: In an alternate universe where Jughead was raised as serpent king and has been attending Southside schools. Barnes & Noble, Betty's secret safe place from all the rumors and stress that school brings...until she realizes there's a certain leather clad wearing serpent that is most definitely sitting across from her. She knew men like him. They weren’t after girls like her. She's been compromised. Where the unlikely combination of leather and cotton elicits a spark between two polar opposite people.

PLEASE FEEL FREE TO JOIN IN THE FUN WITH US!

Recognize YOUR personal favorite fandom authors because the more love we can spread around, the better.

Our fandom is a vast and wonderful place and everyone deserves a little recognition!