#camden walk of shame

[misscammiedawn]

Apple Music Round-Up 2024

Welp, our mental health results came in for the year. Fun thing to crack through. Because I'm going to be a basic bitch and post my marketing algorithm data online.

It does actually show some interesting insights into our system, though. It's an impartial switch/mood counter that I really can't manipulate.

Let me be a bit self-indulgent.

Artists

So, yeah. We mostly listen to music when we're at the office so that's one day a week. 40 hours of Rush is about on par for us, to be honest. I feel we could have done more.

Anyway. Let's break them down and give a little analysis of where our head may have been at for these times.

Rush - It's Rush. Honestly 40 hours is kind of low for us. Though there's 120 hours of playtime represented on this list which means 33% of all music (in our top 10) was Rush. --Still seems a little low. Doesn't include the time we were listening to Geddy's autobiography, Neil's books or listening to Rush music on YouTube or Winamp on our personal computer. This is Apple Only. The First Constant - Sample Song

CHRVCHES - If Cammie had a favorite band outside of Rush it'd be CHRVCHES. Personally I really enjoy Screen Violence but Cammie likes everything they've ever put out and is pouting that Mayberry is putting the project on hiatus. Every Open Eye is a damn near perfect album and Bury It was a "Camden Song" before we even transitioned. Cammie-Coded - Sample Song

Porter Robinson - The new album dropped this year and as you'll see we ran the Hit Single of the album a bunch of times. We listened to the first two albums a lot in the build up and made a friend on a Discord server over enjoying Porter's work. Also Cammie-Coded. - Sample Song

Left at London - Kind of a surprise as Nat hasn't released any new music this year. I love her work a ton and am a little sad that Tyler didn't show up on either list because, not to be too white on main, she was our entry point for him. Nat's music resonates with us on the topics of transgender topics and mental health stuff, particularly BPD and identity dissociation. Camden-Coded - Sample Song (cw: suicide mention)

Genesis - Genesis (and Phil Collins) are our back-up band for when we need a break from Rush. Kind of surprised we listened to so much. Don't really have much to say. I know we added Home By The Sea and Driving The Last Spike to our favorite songs but can't think of a time we sat down and listened to Genesis with intent. A mystery to be solved, I'm sure. Dawn/Wynn Coded?- Sample Song

The Streets - Okay, The Streets returned after a lengthy hiatus in October 2023 so it's no surprise that we were binging the new album. Craig loves Skinner's work and thinks Original Pirate Material is early 2000s London encased in amber. It feels like home when we listen to it and the boy needs to feel a connection to the things we lost every now and again. Craig-Coded - Sample Song (cw: drugs/alcohol overdose)

Vienna Teng - A little bit of Michigan that we took with us. Wonder if this is a Dawn thing? Vienna Teng has a gentle country/folk mix and has poetic lyrics that try to draw intimate connections between characters. Her songs feel like a voyeur writing poetry about the other people in a diner and I kind of dig that. Dawn/Camden-Coded - Sample Song

Grace Petrie - Queer British folk music, emphasis on the queer. Grace's music has a lot of anger about the current political climate and has a lot of blissful gender euphoria. Cammie/Dawn-Coded - Sample Song

The Narcissist Cookbook - Queer British folk music, less emphasis on the queer. I'm actually sad Cookbook isn't higher. We wanted to see him play live this year but were worried about COVID. Camden-Coded - Sample Song

Yes - It's prog rock. I imagine a decent amount of this time was spent listening to Closer to the Edge alone. Dawn-Coded - Sample Song (cw: 18 minutes)

Individual Songs

...fuck.

So this is obviously a little weighted by the fact that certain songs are the only thing we listen to by their particular artist. 40 hours of Rush is spread over a couple hundred songs where many of these songs are the only thing we even know their individual artists from.

Plus--- I'll admit it. There are times where a certain song just hits and we have to suck the emotion from it like a Capri-Sun by playing it on repeat. I'd say "I" as Camden because there's a lot of yearning/angst songs there but track 4 is 100% Dawn being an extravagant Fae.

Also funny thing. Craig was fronting when we started pulling this and the moment I saw our top songs I jumped in. I almost didn't post to avoid "outing" myself here but if we're going to do the Camden Walk Of Shame then I'm writing my own fucking excuses.

This Means War ~ Marianas Trench (39 Plays) - Look. I'm not going to beat around the bush. I miss my friends. I miss them so much it tears my stomach inside out and makes me cry into a pillow at night.

Cheerleader ~ Porter Robinson (31 Plays) - The hit single from Porter's new album got a lot of spins this year. Cammie absolutely loves doing the dishes while dancing or singing to this one.

I'm Spent ~ Housewife (29 Plays) - "Old friends fading, am I still in your good graces?" - Fuck this entire playlist really is the Camden walk of shame. "I guess that's all in the past. No we're not getting it back." ...god damn it.

Mine (fear. Linnea Olsson) ~ Daniel Olsen & Jonathan Eng (29 Plays) - Dawn, you little shit, this song is pure Fae energy.

Bad Friend ~ Cheese on Bread (26 Plays) - The lyrics on this one are so specific to the artist that I don't really project onto it any but if I did I'd cast myself as the bad friend. Either way the chorus carrying the wish that a broken friendship can be repaired is just... *sighs* ...why the fuck am I posting this on the internet where humans can read it?

Reverse ~ Minimall (26 Plays) - Ever seen the movie Eternal Sunshine? There's a reason that movie is held up as a movie about BPD. I hate the secrets I carry in relation to both my marriage and my former best friends. It's this intense intimate Knowing of a person and... I can't even talk about my part in any of that. It's just, parts of my own history are gated behind bars and it fucking hurts because I'd never tell those secrets because they're not mine, even if the things that I experienced impact my life and I'm left in limbo processing things in solitude. If I could... I'd reverse it. Let all those secrets and experiences pour out of me. That way, maybe there'd be peace?

Do It, Try It ~ M83 (24 Plays) - The scene at the end of Letterkenny season 8 got us into this song and made me reevaluate Junk. Mr. Robot and my love of Daft Punk already sold me on M83 but Junk wasn't that good so we slept on it.

Something's Always Wrong ~ Toad the Wet Sprocket (23 Plays) - Always loved this song and Toad. Craig does too, I believe? Prior to transition and going non-contact with our family of origin we edited a recording of a 3 hour Skype 'conversation' with our father put it on like 10 times speed while the song played and paused the song whenever we spoke. There was about 80 seconds us us speaking. We timed it so "another day, I call and never speak" played before we got our first word out. Fun times.

Keep You On My Side ~ CHRVCHES (23 Plays) - Used to play this on repeat at the end of our marriage. Seems old habits die hard. Cammie loves CHRVCHES. This song is a fucking banger.

You're Gonna Go Far, Kid ~ The Offspring (23 Plays) - Fuck yeah this song is awesome!

-

Okay. Now I'm done shaming myself in public I'm going to just pout for a while.

Maybe listen to some Rush.

[loulouwrites]

HELLISH . AFLIE SOLOMONS

summary: alfie's secretary makes the decision to marry, it's a shame her prospective husbands seem to disappear after one meeting warnings: angst, violence, swearing, jealousy, threats, borderline stalking honestly, muderous thoughts, unedited, unrequited love word count: 3.5k a/n: i've been away for a while bc life is hard. i wanted to write a little alfie story not related to the 'home series' and came up with whatever this is so i hope you enjoy. i'm working on a taglist, so if you would like to be included, lmk <3 also lmk if you'd like a part 2 to this, i've already cooked something up!

She had known Alfie Solomons for about three years, and they had been friends since they had met.

Two years into their strange friendship, she had been sacked from her job as a secretary for an Italian businessman, he didn't say why he suddenly decided he didn't require her services, but they both knew. Tensions were rising between the Jewish quarter and Italian quarter in Camden, and everybody was sticking to their own side of town.

When she had told Alfie about it, he had offered her a job immediately - the rising tensions were partly his fault anyways.

Her mother had not been happy when her daughter came home with news she would be working for Alfie Solomons, but when she saw the stack of notes Mr Solomons had given as a 'pay advance', she warmed to the idea.

It was easy work. He had his men for the nitty-gritty stuff, she merely typed up Alfie's ramblings and sent threatening telegrams to people - it was easier than any legitimate job she had ever had, and it paid better, too.

She would often have lunch with Ollie, Alfie's second in command if you wanted to call him that. She was allowed a longer lunch than he was, Ollie wasn't supposed to have a lunch break at all, but if she were talking to him, it was rare they would be interrupted, unless there was an urgent matter to attend to.

Ollie was a good gossip, better than any of the other men in the bakery, Alfie excluded. But, unlike Alfie, Ollie had no interest in her, sexually or romantically, so she enjoyed the time she could spend talking to him, discussing rumours or chatting about their lives outside of work without it turning into something else within minutes.

"Do you think he'll let me leave an hour early?" She asked from where she was perched on the man's desk, swinging her feet back and forth.

"He'd let you leave now if you asked," Ollie replied, rolling his eyes at the girl. It was true, Alfie would probably still pay her if she didn't show up, he'd let her release a group of pigs in his office if she wanted to.

"He's in a mood, though."

"He's always in a mood."

"Not as bad as this," she pointed to their boss' office, where the blinds were pulled up, showing his figure stomping around the small room, throwing pieces of paper and trinkets onto the ground.

"Fuck," she sighed as a loud crash was heard, though they couldn't see what had bared the brunt of the man's rage from their seats.

"Maybe reschedule?" Ollie offered, his eyes not leaving the glass window of Alfie's office.

"I'm just going to ask him," she planted her feet on the ground, ignoring Ollie's protests. "The worst he can do is say no," she shrugged, walking towards the office door.

"That is not the worst he can do," he called after her in an urgent whisper.

She didn't knock when she entered, she never had, and she wasn't about to start now.

A book flew past her face when she stepped inside, and she quickly stepped to the side, it hitting the wall behind her and falling to the floor.

"What did...that Russian book ever do to you?" She asked, and his head snapped up to look at her, his eyes wide.

"Shit, sorry 'bout that, love," he sighed, wiping a hand over his face but she waved him off, moving to sit in one of the chairs at his desk.

"Bad day?"

"Better now," he winked at her, and she rolled her eyes playfully. "What do you want?"

"I want to leave an hour early," she offered him a wary smile, clasping her hands together pleadingly.

"You fuckin' what?"

"Please, Alfie-" she started, but he was up from his seat before she could finish her sentence, pacing up and down the cramped office with his hands on his hips. "It's only an hour, and I'm not doing anything anyway."

"You're not doing anything?" his eyebrows raised as he turned to face her. "You're really admitting that to your boss?"

"Please, Alfie," she stood up, taking a few steps towards him. "I never ask you for anything."

She scowled at the obnoxious laugh he let out in response.

"Never ask me for anything?" his voice raised an octave to mock her. "A pay advance that you still haven't paid back," he help up a finger as he counted. "A weekday off so you can go shopping when it's less crowded, a bonus so you can get your mum a birthday present, a day off when your fucking cat died," he stepped towards her. "Asking me to come to it's fucking funeral."

"You said it was a lovely service," she placed a hand on her chest in offense.

"You know what?" he sighed, rubbing a hand up and down his face. "Just fuck off, yeah?"

"Really?" She smiled, clapping her hands.

"But you will come in an hour early tomorrow to make up for it, or so help me God, I will come to your house and drag you here myself."

It was an empty threat, and they both knew it.

"Thank you, Alfie." She reached to place a kiss on his cheek, not taking offense when he reached to wipe his cheek when she pulled away, already opening the door to leave. "I'll see you bright an early tomorrow."

She couldn't make out what he grumbled after her.

Alfie waited until she had left the bakery to slink out of his office, approaching Ollie's desk, and tapping on it with his knuckles.

"Why'd she want to leave early?" he asked his assistant, not missing the way the younger man sunk down in his seat.

"I don't want to tell you," Ollie replied, sheepishly.

"Ollie," Alfie warned.

"She's meeting up with someone?"

"Ollie."

"A man. She's meeting up with a man, her mum's friend's son or something. Think she's looking to settle down, you know?"

Alfie hummed, a hand coming up to rub his beard. "Interesting," he mumbled, walking back to his office, landing a smack to Ollie's head as he passed.

Her suitor had been a perfect gentleman. Jacob had taken her to a fancy club in a nicer part of London, had bought her dinner and drinks without grumbling about the prices, and had dropped her off at home with a kiss on the cheek and a promise to take her out again the following weekend.

She hadn't thought a man her mother had set her up with would be particularly charming, but she had been proven wrong, the stupid smile she wore on her face all week being proof of that.

She had been thinking of settling down for a while. All of her childhood friends were married with several children at this point, and she didn't miss the sympathetic looks they would give her when she told them she was still unmarried, still childless, and still working.

Marriage was always something she thought would come naturally -as it seemed to do with everyone else around her - but years rolled by and she was still no closer to the life that had seemed so easily achievable when she was young. So, she had decided to take matters in her own hands, informing her mother and everyone else she could that she was ready to marry, and asking them to let her know if they knew a boy they thought would be a good match.

And, she thought she had found the good match on her first try, but when the week after her date rolled on, and there was no word from Jacob, she realised how stupid she had been.

She had been moodier than ever that week, stomping around the bakery with a scowl on her face, smacking the keys of her typewriter harder than necessary, and barely speaking two words to whoever approached her.

She was not dealing with the rejection well.

So, when a handsome worker - who she recalled was named James -- passed her desk, offering a confident smile as he did, she wasted no time.

She wandered into Alfie's office with her hands clasped behind her back, swaying slightly as she waited for him to look up from the papers on his desk.

"What?" He asked, still reading the scribbles on the page.

"Didn't know you'd taken new people on," she shrugged nonchalantly, keeping her tone light and unbothered.

"And? What about it?"

"I don't know," she shrugged again, stepping further into his office. "Just a lot of new faces around here,"

Alfie groaned, dropping the papers from his hand and removing the glasses he wore from his face. "Since when do you care about new faces?"

"I don't," she laughed defensively. "I was just wondering about one of them, is all."

"You were just wondering about one of them," Alfie's eyebrows rose, and he leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms. "What were you wondering about?"

"I mean...maybe some background..."

"Like what? His favourite fucking book? The fuck you expect me to know?"

"I was just wondering, that's all," she held her hands up in defense, and her boss' eyes squinted at her words.

"I thought you were already seein' someone, that is why you left early a couple weeks ago, ain't it?"

"Who the fuck told you that?"

"Don't matter," Alfie offered her a smile. "Didn't work out or something..."

"No, it didn't," she huffed. "So...about James..." she trailed off, waiting for Alfie to step in, but he merely offered her a blank look. "Alfie," she whined, stomping her foot against the floor."

"Don't know 'im. Sorry, love," he waved a hand dismissively.

"Fine," she spun on her heel, storming out of his office. "I'll find out myself."

James was lovely. She had 'bumped' into him when she was leaving, and it hadn't taken him long to offer to take her out for drinks when he finished his shift, which she had accepted with a grateful smile.

He had met her outside of the local pub near the 'bakery', it wasn't a particularly nice establishment, but the lager was cheap, and she supposed he didn't have the money to spend in a fancy club like Jacob had - not with the pittance she was sure Alfie was paying him.

He was funny, and quite respectful in comparison with some of his colleagues. He had asked her questions about her interests, had shared his own, and she was delighted that they seemed to have quite a bit in common.

They had ended the night at her door, with chaste kiss, and another promise to go out again the following week, and she had closed the door with a grin on her face.

"See you at work tomorrow," he had said as he walked away.

When she arrived to work the next morning, the same grin still on her face, she couldn't stop her eyes scanning the floor as she walked to her desk, desperately trying to seek out James, but, when she couldn't find him, she had shrugged it off.

Maybe he was ill or something.

It was now Thursday. Her date with James had been on Monday, and there had been no sign of him ever since.

It was hard not wonder, had something bad happed to him? Had he been hiding every time he saw her walking through the distillery? Had he been so repulsed by her that he had quit his job just to avoid seeing her again?

The thoughts had consumed her all week, and they had affected her mood significantly. Unlike with Jacob, where she had been an angry force at work, she was now forlorn, barely speaking to anybody, and zoning out of conversations with a vacant look on her face.

It was starting to worry her boss, who spent longer than appropriate watching her from his office window.

He had called her into the office that afternoon, watching as she walked seemingly in a daze, her eyes were duller, and he face appeared more sunken.

She didn't say anything when she took a seat at his desk, nor did she meet his eyes when he said her name.

"You alright?" he had asked, his tone more concerned than he wanted it to be.

"Wonderful," she replied, her voice flat, fiddling with a thread on her skirt.

"You've been wandering 'round like a ghost for the past week, love. What's goin' on with ya? Please don't tell me another fucking cat died."

She huffed a laugh that was clearly fake, still fiddling with the thread when she responded. "I think I'm unmarriable, Alfie."

Alfie's shoulder's straightened at her words, leaning his arms on his desk, he studied her face, watching as she blinked away the tears that were beginning to pool in her eyes. "The fuck are you talking about?"

"Two men in two weeks, Alfie. I have gone out with two men in two weeks and they have both disappeared...literally disappeared, I haven't seen them since."

Her eyes lifted from her dress to meet his, and Alfie was struck by how sad she looked. He had never thought she would be this upset by a couple of boys not getting back to her after one night.

"That's silly, love," he sighed. "It don't mean nothin'"

"Yeah," she scoffed, "it does."

He considered telling her in that moment, he truly did. A better man would have, would have confessed right then and there.

A better man would have told her that they had cornered Jacob after he had dropped her off at her door. How he had almost certainly broken the young man's nose before he had a chance to blink, how he had had his men hold the boy by the shoulders while he whispered a warning in his ear.

"Stay away from her."

He really should have told her that he had turned up at James' shitty flat on Monday night, waiting for the man to return from his date with her. That his worker's body had began to shake when he saw his boss leaning against his front door, his arms crossed against his chest and a cold look in his eye.

"Have to let you go, son," Alfie had said. "A worker that is more concerned about fucking my secretary isn't one I want workin' with me."

James had begun to splutter a reply, but Alfie was already heading for the stairs.

"Best you stay away from her, yeah?"

It hadn't been a question.

He really should have told her, but he didn't. Instead, he had sighed and rose from his seat, moving into the empty chair beside her.

"You ain't unmarriable, woman," he told her, patting her shoulder. "You just chose two fuckin' idiots."

"Whatever you say, Alfie," she said, standing up and walking out of the office without another word.

He should have confessed, but he didn't. He did, however, promise himself he would not get involved in her personal life anymore. The next man she met, would not have to face a threat from Alfie Solomons.

She had been leaving her home to go to work when she had ran into Elijah on the street. He had chased after her, holding an envelope in his hands, waving it frantically when she finally turned around when she heard the stranger's voice calling after her.

"I think you dropped this," he handed her the envelope, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she took it from his hands.

"Oh, thank you," she laughed. "My boss would have murdered me if I lost it."

He had laughed at her words, not realising she wasn't exactly joking about her boss.

"I'm Elijah," he held out a hand, which she took with a smile.

"He's really nice, Ollie," her words were muffled as they travelled into Alfie's office, and he had to press his ear closer to the door to be able to hear her clearly. "A real gentleman."

'A real gentleman.'

Alfie rolled his eyes, 'gentleman' was just another word for a soft prick.

"We're going out again tonight," she told her friend. "Said he has a surprise for me."

"What do you think it is?" Ollie asked her, and Alfie rolled his eyes again. Ollie was worse than a fucking twelve year old girl.

"I mean we've been seeing each other for a while, he's met my family, I've met his..." she trailed off, and Ollie's gasp was clear as day from where Alfie was standing.

"You think he's going to propose?"

And just like that, Alfie's heart dropped to his stomach. He tore his ear from the wall, storming back to his desk, dropping to the seat with a heavy thud.

Of course Elijah was going to propose, of fucking course. She had been seeing him for the better part of four months, and she spent every waking minute talking about the nice doctor, it was natural that his was how it was going to progress.

He regretted not cornering Elijah on is way to work the moment she had mentioned his name, regretted not giving him the same treatment he gave the two men that came before him. He should have, should have twisted the man's arm behind his back until he was crying like a little girl, should have had his men hold him down while he kicked him in his ribs until blood came out of his mouth, he should have put the barrel of his gun to his head an pulled the trigger.

But to what end?

She was a good girl. She wanted to get married, have a few children and take care of the house while her husband was at work.

Alfie couldn't offer her that.

Everything he could offer her, he already had. He had given her protection, a stable income, and some form of friendship. He could never give her what she truly craved. He knew that, no matter his feelings for her - feelings he didn't understand himself - he couldn't give her the life she deserved.

And that thought made him sick.

The room was too hot for him to sit in any longer. Alfie pushed through the crowd of people, shoving them harder than necessary until he reached the door, the sound of music and laughter fading as the heavy door closed behind him.

He took a seat on a damp wooden bench, his head dropping in his hands.

It had been a lovely ceremony, a bit small, and a bit cheap for his tastes, but she had managed to make it lovely anyways.

He stood when she entered, her parents on either side of her, walking her to the end of the aisle.

She didn't spare Alfie a glance, too busy looking ahead - looking at him. The bitterness twisted in his stomach and it took all the self control he possessed to keep a neutral look on his face.

Elijah met her at the end of the aisle, taking her hand and helping her up the little steps, a sickening smile on his face.

Alfie didn't miss the sympathetic glance Ollie, who was beside him, threw him.

"Not enjoying the party?" her voice was as sweet as anything, full of happiness.

"Weddings ain't really my thing, love," he offered her a smile, it dropping as quickly as it came.

"But this isn't just any wedding, Alfie," she said, taking a seat next to him. "It's mine, you should be happy."

"Why is that?"

"You've finally gotten rid of me," she laughed, nudging his shoulder with hers. "You don't have to pay me to sit around and do nothing all day, should save you a bit of money."

Alfie didn't laugh with her, a bitter smile on his face as he looked down at his hands.

"Oh don't tell me you're sad about me leaving?" her voice held nothing but humour and Alfie wanted to scream at her.

How can you be so blind?

Can't you see I love you?

"Nah, I'm just upset it took this long," he said eventually, rising from his seat, patting her on the shoulder as did. "I'm gonna head out, but congratulations, love. You look very beautiful."

Her eyes softened at his words, her smile widening from where she was sat, looking up at him, her eyes sparkling.

He didn't have time to react when she shot up from her seat, throwing her arms around his shoulders and pulling him closer to her.

"You're the best friend I could have asked for, Alfie," she whispered, placing a kiss on his cheek.

"Yeah, well," he cleared his throat, pulling her arms away from his shoulders and taking a step back. "Fuck off, now. You're missing your own wedding you stupid woman."

She laughed, nodding her head and disappearing back into the building before Alfie could blink, leaving him frozen in place, the bitterness that once consumed him being replaced by what felt like an all-encompassing sadness.

'The best friend I could have asked for."

What a fucking joke that was.

[hexedwinchester]

I'm not here for therapy...

*spoilers ahead..kinda*

It's going to be Camden Casey's character analysis from his three episode arc. This is part 2..

In the 6th episode of this season of Fire Country, Camden is already in Sharon's bad books what with pushing Bode to do something he isn't trained for. Calling the chicklets (or was it eaglets?) ugly (Camden, honey, sweetie, no! You are not supposed to) and eating her yogurt with her name on it (really Sharon? What are you? 12?) doesn't do him any more favours. Not that he cares because damn, he ain't here to please anyone and I quite like that about him. Guess that's where Sharon's judgement about Camden being a sociopath comes from.

Camden is obviously very sharp and quickly picks up on the vibes between Bode and Gabz. And I do get his point about Bode's family, friends and Gabz being a distraction because to some extent they really are. And I don't mean it in a bad way, but Casey is right. Part of Bode's confusion is because different people are expecting different things from him and in order to live up to each of those expectations he is holding back his true self.

Camden as a trainer/captain is a tough guy to please and his methods are definitely out there but I also get where he is coming from. One theme about his character that came across very strong was that he is willing to do anything to protect his crew from real danger, be it breaking protocol or leaving cute eaglets to die (empathy, honey! Also, Speaking of the said eaglets, why didn't the forest chick just move them beforehand? Maybe I don't know the protocol but seriously they could have just moved the nest or the birds). This leads to Casey and Vince Leone butting heads on the strategy. Leone gets the upper hand.

When the fire catches upto the nest, Camden orders to pull out his crew including Bode but Bode refuses to follow his order and goes on to save the birds (thank God!) while Casey storms off coming across heartless (I mean poor birds!). But again I do get why he is the way he is. Clearly losing his crew left a scar on him and that messes with the way he operates.

His strictly business, ruthless and cold nature is what makes his character so interesting to me because Camden, honey, who murdered your cat that you gotta be so heartless about the chicklets? Like I need to know Camden Casey's history, see who or what wired him that way because he clearly isn't that person at heart. The exchange between Leone and Casey at the end unfolds another piece of information: one of the 9 crew members that died was a Casey, his younger brother! Camden almost breaks at the mention of his brother but then gathers himself and walks away.

Camden Casey is clearly someone who suffered grave loss, blames himself for it and has not moved past it. He has built a wall around his heart that keeps people from getting closer or worse getting hurt. Yet, i noticed he blends in the background when he wants to, quiet, just observing his surroundings and the people in it. Which brings me to the last part of my analysis.. wtf was that last scene? Gabz, frustrated that Bode won't keep waiting for her, goes to Smokey's Tavern and gulps down a tequila shot and the camera pans from her to Camden across the bar!?! Like Fire Country wtf am I to make of that scene? It's suggesting two things: Drunk Gabz confronts Casey giving him shit for telling Bode to break up with her or Drunk Gabz and Casey have hate sex (god, I hope I'm wrong!!)

Closing this post on the few things of the episode i really liked:

Camden calling the eaglets straight up ugly 🤣🤣🤣🤣 I mean, he is not wrong.. hatchlings, often furless are not very cute looking. But ok, no, we don't shame anyone here, people, animal and birds alike

Camden eating Sharon's yogurt and then offering her the tub back 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Love the disciplined way Camden holds his stance: hands behind the back. Gosh I find that incredibly hot. I have only seen Jake Crawford do it often on the show then anyone else

Camden training the cadets with the eggs. I'm sure he enjoyed the irony

i don't know if it's an Audrey or Leven thing but I love her tattoos!!

Audrey calling out Sharon's methods! Who is the sociopath now, Sharon, huh?

Everyone naming the pair of eaglets. Someone called them Thelma and Louise and then others followed with their own name. To my SPN girlies, tell me your mind ran straight to Sam and Dean!! (Fire Country, that was a missed opportunity)

bode cooking for Gabz (buddy, she doesn't deserve you)

Bode telling Gabz that a maybe is a no for him! Yes! Finally!

Camden getting emotional over his brother's death

That fucked up eye contact between Casey and Gabz!!!!!

[issdisgrace]

SUNDAY DINNER

WARNINGS: Use of the word fag, and nothing else

I sigh to myself as I knock on the door to Alfie’s office.

“Come in.” His voice rings out. Opening the door, I step into the office, closing the door behind me.

“Hey Alfie, you got a minute.”

“Yeah darling i do, have a seat.” He says, setting his paper down, gesturing towards the couch. I nod, walking over to the couch and lay down it like I’ve done a handful of times in the past.

“So what wrong my darling Y/n.”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about telling my family about me and about us. But I don’t know how they’re gonna react. I’m worried that they’ll shame me and kick me out of the family. I don’t know what I would do without them.”

“Well, darling I’m gonna be honest with you. I don’t know how they will react to either piece of information. They are a bunch of no good hard heads. But I can tell you they love you just as much as I do. So I wouldn’t worry too much about it. But telling them about us on the other hand I can tell you they will flip out.”

“Would you come with me when I tell them?”

“Are we going to tell them about both things?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, but I better not get shit from any of them about dating you and if I do beat their asses, also I expect my compensation via kisses.”

“Alright, I think I can do that. Thank you Alfie.” I say, looking over at him, sending him a smile, which he returns.

Later that night I go home and call up aunt Polly.

“Hey Polly.”

“Y/n. How have you been? You settle into your new place.”

“I’m good. I settled in nicely. I just wanted to call and tell you that I’m ready to tell the family.”

“You are? Are you sure?”

“I’m sure Polly. I’ve been putting off telling everyone and now that I got my own place and I’m out on my own I think it’s time. I’ve also got a boyfriend and we’ve been going strong for 6 months and I want you guys to meet him.”

“That’s wonderful darling. How about you bring him to dinner on Sunday night?”

“Sounds good. He mentioned he was free Sunday, so I guess we are good to go then.”

“Alright, remember to be here at 6pm.”

“Ok, Polly I’ll see you Sunday at 6. I love you. Thank you for the support. I appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem darling, you are like a son to me. It would also be hypocritical of me, liking both women and men and not supporting my nephew. Anyway, I got to finish a couple of things papers, so I love you. Goodnight. I’ll see you Sunday.” 

“I love you too, Polly. Goodnight, see you on Sunday.”

Sunday had finally rolled around and my anxiety was at a 100. It got worse and worse as the day went on. Then it was time to meet up with Alfie and head to Polly’s house for dinner.

As we drove along and got closer and closer, I felt sicker and sicker.

“Darling, you ok. You're looking pale.”

“I’m fine Alfie don’t worry. I’m just anxious, that’s all.”

“I am anxious too darling. Don’t worry I’ll be right by your side the whole time and your aunt will be there. And she’ll kick your brother’s asses if they say anything.”

I let out a laugh, picturing Polly kicking their asses.

“You’re right.”

“I know I am darling. So how about we focus on best-case scenarios?”

We park in front of Polly’s house and I let out a sigh, looking over at Alfie. It looks like everyone is already here. 

“You ready, darling?” I take a deep breath before saying.

“Yeah, I’m ready.” Me and Alfie then get out of the car. Walking around the car, I then link hands with Alfie. The feeling of his rough hand in mind bringing me comfort. We walk up the path to the front door before we knock. We stand there for a minute before the door is suddenly pulled open, revealing Polly.

“Y/n good to see you. And ahh, you’re the infamous King of Camden, Alfie Solomons.”

“I’m just Alfie Solomons tonight Miss Gray.” 

“Alright, well please do come in.” Polly says, moving to the side to let us in. Stepping in, the sound of chatter hits our ears.

“Everyone is in here.” Polly says, leading us into the living room. I keep a tight grip on Alfie’s hand as we walk into the room and as soon as we are seen everything goes dead silent. Everyone is looking at us.

“Hello everyone.” I managed to get out.

“What is he doing here?” Tommy asks clearly not to be happy to see me hand in hand with one of his business partners.

“Well, if you guys weren’t smart enough to figure it out already I am a fag. As for Alfie, we have been dating for 6 months now.”

“Your a fag?” Arthur, John, and Finn ask in synchronicity.

“God, you guys are so stupid. No offense Y/n but you didn’t really do a good job of hiding your preference towards men.” Ada says, looking up. I meet her eyes, and she gives me a smile.

“None taken Ada. I realized that I wasn’t that good at hiding it a while ago.”

“Why him of all people, Y/n,” Tommy asks.

“Alfie is good for me. He treats me well. He makes sure I’m taken care of and he cooks for me.”

“He’s the King of fucking Camden. Don’t you get it Y/n. He can get you killed.” Tommy says, raising his voice. 

“And you’re Thomas Shelby, the leader of the Peaky Blinders. For fuck’s sake Tommy, me being your brother is enough to get me killed.”

“He’s right Tommy.” Polly speaks up. “Despite me not being the biggest fan of Mr Solomons. No offense Mr Solomons. Y/n has a valid point that you’re just going to have to accept. And you’re going to have to accept that Y/n is with Mr Solomons. All of us will need to accept that.”

“If it’s any consolation Y/n I don’t care who you date.” Ada says.

“Thank you Ada.”

“No problem.”

The room then falls silent as Tommy, Arthur, John, and even Finn stare daggers into Alfie. It only lasts a minute before a ring breaks the silence.

“Foods ready.” Polly says as she quickly leaves the room. Great, dinner totally isn’t going to be awkward. I look over to Alfie and give him a weak smile that he returns. Let’s see just how bad this dinner can get, I think to myself as I lead Alfie out of the living room and towards the dining room.

“I’m gonna need a drink after this aren’t I.”

[jonquilyst]

Day 21 - Elimination Ceremony

Dahlia broke her winning streak today. Instead, it's Logan who takes the cake and guarantees himself a spot on the TOP 5!

Who will be walking the Dock of Shame tonight? Let's find out:

Voting Results:

The following contestants are safe:

Camden, Lilium, Logan (immune), and Terrance

There was a tie in the votes between Dahlia and Poppy tonight. The random number generator has been deployed, and our loser has been chosen. The final result is under the cut:

The contestant eliminated from Total Drama Sims is...

Poppy Sparks

But wait! Before Poppy walks the Dock of Shame, she must do one more thing... She give Camden a little parting gift 💋

Today's Confessional: Camden Reese

"Oh, Poppy... You've been amazing ever since we started competing together. I hope you'll be cheering for me from the sidelines. I'll try to win for both of us!"

@simsinfinitylt @akitasimblr @micrathene-w @seyvia @ashubii @aniraklova

[inkwolvesandcoffee]

Sweet Grains (Alfie Solomons x Reader, Modern AU)

Genre: Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Modern AU, Bakery AU

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x Reader

Word count: 3.7K

Warnings: Talk of eating disorders and low self-esteem (based on personal experience, so don’t be a twat), Alfie being a proper gentleman

Summary: Kindness can go a long way. A loaf of bread, a cup of coffee, a conversation to break up the pressure that comes with ambition. Alfie Solomons, the most feared man in Camden and perhaps the whole of London, is full of these little bits of sweetness.

Not that he would admit this outright, of course. However, the men at the bakery certainly notice a change in his demeanour whenever you pop by.

But when you do so to drop off a gift, there soon rises a bitterness that excels that of the dark roast served at The Old Rum House Bakery. Yet, as with the darkest of coffees, Alfie works his magic to reduce the awful taste.

Because he wants the best for you, who is starting to be more than a friend to him. Who else will he grant the privilege of eating his soda bread?

He wants you.

And a new bookie.

Tag List: @zablife @vir-tual @babaohhhriley @hecatemoon87 @potter-solomons @dreamlandcreations @solomons-finest-rum @mollybegger-blog @liliac-dreamer @buttercupsandboys @rose-like-the-phoenix @wandawiccan60

TH Masterlist

Gratitude is easy and simultaneously terrifying to show.

Take a deep breath. It’s gonna be alright.

The tin in my hands feels like it’s filled with stones rather than cookies. Also, the design of it, navy blue with gold and flowers, suddenly doesn’t seem that great of an idea either. It would be a shame to throw it away, but the thought of asking for it back once it’s empty makes me uneasy. After all, it’s a gift.

While gathering my courage, I watch people stroll by the bakery in front of me. It is mostly locals who stop to check out the fully stocked window display. Tourists tend to get their food elsewhere in the market. However, even in Croydon they can vouch for the quality and taste of The Old Rum House Bakery in Camden. 

Recently I’ve been popping by here to study for the AAT Bookkeeping exam. Partially because I want to expand and develop my personal skill set, but primarily because I’m well over being a barista and working for minimum wage. The owner, Alfie Solomons, has been kind enough to help me. Although, perhaps it’s better to say he insisted on it in his own way.

The tall burly man kept walking past me and looking over my shoulder during the first few days. Now, I can’t blame him because who wouldn’t get curious when someone sets up an improvised office in their business? On the first day, I was ready to pack up and leave in the blink of an eye. The hairs on the back of my neck remained upright, my hands jittery with the anticipation of being told by a gravelly voice to leave so there would be space for more customers.

But those words were never said.

Alfie let me sit for as long as I wanted.

The one time I had the nerve to meet his gaze, he plopped down in the chair across from me and told me he’d teach me the books. Just like that. I blinked, gobsmacked by his blunt and rather hellbent statement. Since then, he’s been my mentor.

And I don’t want to disappoint him.

One… two… three. Let’s go!

“Y/N, what’re you doing here?” The voice in my ear pierces through the hubbub of the busy street, packed with people enjoying the rare London sunshine by roaming around. Snapped out of my reverie yet still drowsy with dread, I turn to the man with black curly hair who has appeared at my side.

“Ollie, hey, hi! Is- Um, is Alfie… in? Today, I mean? Now?” It’s silly, reduced to a blabbering mess because of a person I know decently well. For as far as one can know another when in a mentor-student relation. Although, sometimes it seems we’re more than that.

Our conversations know no limits, freely flowing over tea and coffee. I can never leave without a loaf of soda bread he refuses to sell despite it being a piece of heaven. It has this certain sweet element, which he refuses to reveal what it is. However, there is one thing I value above all else.

He always makes time for me. No matter whether it’s rush hour or quiet, early in the morning when the bread is still being baked or late in the afternoon when there’s barely anything left and inventory has to be taken, Alfie stops being a business owner and becomes my mentor. Or, rather, my friend. Although, perhaps that’s a step too far. 

We’re close acquaintances.

Very close acquaintances.

The assistant brand manager of the bakery chuckles. “Yeah, he is.”

“Great! Can you give him this?” I hold the tin out to him.

“Why don’t you give it yourself? I’m just returning from my break so he can go on one. I’ll fetch him for you.”

“Oh, no, I’m kinda busy and-’’

“Don’t be shy. Come on in.” Ollie holds the door open and gestures for me to go inside.

Mentally cursing myself, I take a deep breath and step forwards.

The warm scent of freshly baked bread and brewed coffee hangs in the air, vibrant like the murmur of hushed conversation and the clinking of tableware. Here and there some tables are occupied with the customers who remain from the rush hour caused by lunch. However, most of them are almost done. In the back, a couple gets up to leave. Unsurprisingly, their smiles are content.

Because the food here would be fit for a king. 

As soon as I cross the threshold, the broad-shouldered man with slicked back brown curly hair behind the counter turns around. He grows still when his sea blue eyes fall on me, the loaf of bread in his hands entirely forgotten.

My heart skips a beat, skittish under the intensity of his gaze. I grip the tin in my hands a little tighter, but the metal does nothing to cool the flush of heat that washes over me. A queasy feeling starts to set up in my stomach when the awareness I’m showing more skin than usual hits. Nevertheless, I put on a mask and muster a smile. “Hey.”

Alfie clears his throat. He blinks a few times like he’s been rudely woken and needs to ground himself in reality again. An unusual awkward groan falls from his lips as he places the bread he’s holding on a nearby counter, wipes his hands on his apron, and then nods in greeting. “Shalom, love.”

What was that reaction?

The sound of my heels on the stone tiles is incredibly loud in my ears as I come closer. Even an elephant would walk more gracefully and quietly in them than I do. Unfortunately, in my enthusiasm I didn’t calculate in the time it would take for me to learn how to wear them properly and move like a sophisticated woman rather than a lumbering individual.

“I popped by to give you these.” I hold the gift I prepared out to him. “As a thank you for teaching me how to bookkeep.”

“You made these?” he asks as he gratefully accepts the tin. His expression brightens as he inspects the oatmeal cookies inside.

“They’re orange and apricot with a bit of salt. Also, they’re kosher. Spent the entire day in the kitchen trying to get them right.’’ I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and glance at the floor. ‘‘I’m not much of a baker, unlike you.”

“Want me to start teachin’ you that too?”

“What?’’ Mouth dry, I stare at him before I break out in a panic mess of words. ‘‘Oh, no! No, I couldn’t possibly ask that of you. I mean, you have a business to run and-’’

“I wouldn’t mind. Besides, I free up time for you anyway so you can learn the books proper.” He puts the lid back on the tin and carefully places it next to the loaf of bread he held earlier. Then he crosses his arms and leans on the counter. The shadows the artificial light cast on his skin accentuates how sculpted they are, hardened by working long hours. “Time spent in good company ain’t wasted.”

“Look, it’s really nice of you, but I don’t want to take up any more of your time. You should have a moment for yourself as well.”

Completely ignoring my remark, he continues in the same casual tone. “Kitchen is awfully busy durin’ work hours, so it’d have to be after closin’ or really early in the mornin’. Also, I’m not gonna put you among the men. No, if I’m to teach you, it’ll be only us. Way safer and more comfortable, innit? Now, I don’t think you’d like me knockin’ on your door at four when not even the pigeons-’’

“Why?” I ask, nibbling on my lower lip.

“Why what?”

“Why would you pick me up?”

Am I really worth the effort?

“Because London isn’t a safe place for doves. The shadows want to tarnish their pretty feathers, corrupt and break their kind spirits. I don’t want that to happen.” For a moment we look at each other, silently assessing where his comment puts us. His expression still unreadable, careful to conceal the sentiments he harbours towards me, Alfie continues. “If you stay after hours, I could see you safely off to the tube before dusk. If you trust and would let me, of course.”

Surprised by the offer, I open and close my mouth. Nevertheless, no answer or adequate response comes to mind. The absence of a hint he’s joking or simply being politely nonchalant also makes it hard to respond. 

“No means no, don’t it?” A quicksilver smile flashes over his lips, half-hidden beneath his bushy whiskers. “Think it over. You can accept or reject the offer whenever. Until then, it stands.”

Why me? Why not someone else? Plenty of women would kill to be made the same offer by you. I’m not worth the trouble.

“Yeah.” I clear my throat, though the light tremble in it remains. “It does.”

Another silent moment passes, a few seconds in which his gaze doesn’t waver. I glance around the bakery, praying for Ollie to come through or new customers to come in. Any diversion would be appreciated.

Anything to distract him lest he should see the butterfly storm inside.

“C- Can you stop staring at me?”

“I’m sorry. Ain’t proper, innit?” Alfie stands up straight and puts his hands in his pockets. Watching the street through the window stocked full with today’s bread, he rubs his lips together in contemplation. A thought he voices on a deep breath. “You look lovely, my dear.”

It’s just a pet name. Casual, the way he talks. It’s not affection towards me. It’s not. 

“Oh, t- thank you.” I pluck at the hem of my dress. “I finally had the courage to wear this one. Still feels a bit weird.”

“Well, I think you look wonderful. Much too pretty for Camden, though. But more than right for Bloomsbury or Westminster.” Though there’s genuine warmth in the gruff half-grumbled words and tenderness in his eyes, there’s an underlying bleakness.

And it tells me he knows.

“I- I’m gonna- I-’’ I point at the door over my shoulder. “I should go.”

“Fancy a cup of tea?” Alfie lunges forward and places his palms on the counter like he’s ready to launch himself over it. “‘Ow about we ‘ave one of those cookies too?”

“I don’t-’’

“Just one.” A careful though encouraging smile tugs at the corners of his lips. Evidently he’s not planning to let me leave, determined to use his charm to make me stay yet too proud to openly beg. “It’s good to treat yourself. One cookie won’t do any ‘arm, especially not with tea. Do an old man a favour?”

And like every time he prepares a sandwich for me and refuses to let me cross the threshold back onto the street without a loaf of soda bread, I want to try. Not only for myself.

But also for him.

“Sure.”

He claps, the noise loud enough to involuntarily turn my content resignation to temporary shock. Fortunately, the way my body jolts remains unnoticed. “Marvellous. Any preferences?”

“Not really.”

“Hm, maybe a nice pot of yuja, yeah? The sweetness will be in perfect ‘armony with the orange in the biscuits. Besides, it’s almost summer, so it’s time for citrus fruits, innit?”

“We’re barely halfway through spring. It’s not even May yet.”

“The weather’s warmin’ up, though.”

“I still don’t think that makes it summer any time soon,” I chuckle.

“I suppose it doesn’t.” Alfie lets out a breathless laugh, features softened with the kindness he usually displays around me. Nevertheless, there’s also an odd tender warmth in it that is hard to define. It’s the same curious emotion I sometimes glimpse on his face when I drop by to study or when he’s using his own bookkeeping to serve as a real-life example. When I make a mistake and he corrects it, explaining what I did wrong and how to do it right next time.

It’s there in the corner of my eye, vague in peripheral vision. However, now that I see it blatantly before me, I still can’t name it.

“You wait ‘ere, yeah. Give me a moment to prepare everythin�� and we’ll pick a nice and quiet spot.”

While the tea brews, Alfie sets up a tray. With a gentle carefulness that belies his usual rough demeanour, he places the biscuit tin alongside two dainty plates on it. In the meanwhile, I remain by the counter to soak up the sunlight, ever rare here in London, coming in through the windows. Normally I’d feel awkward simply standing around in a place where I could easily be noticed. Yet, it’s never like that when he’s nearby.

Strange, how he is both my peace and my flame. 

Humming along to one of Adele’s songs, Alfie pours the yellow liquid in a chic porcelain teapot. ‘‘There,’’ he mumbles, a proud note in his gravelly voice. ‘‘Done. Come on.’’

He guides us to a small table in a corner in the back, far removed from the other customers and staff. All the while, he stays close yet maintains a polite distance.

Alfie sits down on the chair across from me after setting the table and pouring us both a cup. Neither of us says anything, both content to only sip tea and occasionally meet the other’s gaze. 

Whereas his employees seem to have the urge to talk as soon as their boss falls silent, it’s never been the case for me nor vice versa. It’s the same type of silence as when he reminds me to take a break. The most effective way to actually get me to take one, he found, is to literally swipe my study materials to the side or pull me away from his laptop if he’s giving real-life examples. Afterwards, he’ll pull me to my feet to this very same spot so we can sit down together for a cup of tea or coffee. 

A moment of reprieve, wherein there are no burdens. No pressure to do well, no fear to mess up, no worries about changes.

There’s only us, the world shut out.

Unfortunately, the comfortable silence doesn’t last long. The corners of his mouth turn downwards and his brows knit together as words enter his mind. The way he puts his cup down on the saucer with a clink that’s a little too loud preludes to conversation.

One I’d rather not have. 

However, there’s only so long I can and perhaps want to avoid it.

And when it comes to him, I’m done running.

I want to talk.

Alfie groans, the metallic sound of his rings tapping against the side of the cup strengthening his sense of discomfort. “I know it ain’t right to ask because it’s impolite and not something a gentleman should ask, yeah. You are permitted, by the way, to storm out the door after throwin’ your tea in my face. It’d be a waste but I wouldn’t blame ya. I’d never come back either if someone asked me this.”

Head bowed, I stir my tea. “Alfie?”

“Yes, love?”

“The question.”

“Yeah… right, guess I’m beatin’ ‘round the bush too much, ain’t I?” He presses his lips together for a moment and runs a hand through his beard, lost in contemplation. The long breath he takes comes out as a deep sigh. “Look, I meant it when I said I think you look wonderful. And I’m very bloody grateful you come ‘ere for lunch or afternoon tea. It’s a fuckin’ honour to see you enjoy the food and drink ‘ere.”

“But?”

“But you’ve lost weight again, ‘aven’t ya?” he asks, his usual warm drawl devoid of emotion.

I shake my head and smile wistfully. Looks like I’m found out. “I don’t even actively try to anymore. It just… happens.”

“Do you eat? When you’re not ‘ere, I mean.”

“Three meals a day. A protein bar for brekkie or a bowl of vegan yogurt with some granola. I come here for lunch or eat a slice of your soda bread with a piece of fruit when I’m busy. Dinner kinda depends on what I’m in the mood for, but it’s generally vegetarian and has lots of veggies.”

“And working out?”

“Almost every day. I can’t sit still. It drives me up the bloody wall. I try to take rest days, but I’m not particularly good at that.”

“‘Ow much?”

I take a sip from my tea. “Too light.”

No workout today, no need. Tea won’t make you fat. Sure, it’s sweet, but not from sugar. It’s okay.

He lets out deep sigh through his nose, mumbles something under his breath, and stares out into the bakery. In the meanwhile, I don’t dare to look up at him.

Terrified of his disappointment in me.

“Look, I’m not goin’ to be the solution to the problem, it’s a journey you yourself will ‘ave to go on. All the same, I wanna ‘elp.” Slowly I raise my head, unsure about his intentions. Alfie sits back with his arms crossed. The only movement he makes is squeezing his bicep with strained forearms. “You’re a strong wonderful woman, clever to boot. I’d ‘ate it if I lost your company due to bad health. Or worse.”

“My health is fine. I guess I’m just too skinny.”

“Which means you’re more prone to sickness. And cold.” His gaze falls on the goosebumps littering my skin. “Can I ask the number on the scale?”

“Forty-six, sometimes forty-five.’’ 

‘‘Please tell me you eat a little more on those days.’’

‘‘I do, try to, but it hardly helps. Still came further down from forty-eight.”

He swallows hard, a slight taper in his breath as he speaks. “I won’t tell you what to do. What you can and can’t eat. You are your own woman and therefore free to tell me to fuck off and mind my own bloody business. Which I should, I’m well aware, love, yet I can’t. We ‘aven’t known each other that long, but I’m quite fond of you. Yeah, you ‘eard me. Fond, extremely. So I worry for you and since I’m also a chronic overthinker, I worry a lot.”

Sure you do.

Because if the King of Camden is known for something, it’s his silver tongue. 

“We can start small. You already said you eat my bread at ‘ome and I see you eat when you’re ‘ere. That’s good. Let’s start from there. We’ll go explore new foods together and I’ll occasionally cook for you. I’m no master chef, right, but I don’t think my borscht is bad. It’s me mum’s recipe, so I don’t dare fuck it up. I always make way too much brisket as well and it would be a cryin’ shame to throw it away or keep it as leftovers when it can be shared. You see, people have been bonding over food for centuries.” He leans in, his fingers entwined as they rest on the table. Voice lowered to a pleasant purr, he makes an irresistible proposal which I am loath to decline. Nonetheless, I don’t want to readily accept it with an enthusiasm and positivity I haven’t felt in a very long time. The butterflies have to remain contained because to show them would be to rip their wings. “Shall we try and see if that’s true?”

“I’d like that, Alfie.” The mention of his name conjures a beaming smile which shows off his slightly crooked teeth. One of his little perfect imperfections. “I’d like it a lot.”

“Well, let’s start with this.” He grabs a cookie from the tin, splits it in half, and holds one of the pieces out to me. “Small steps.”

I merely gaze at the cookie, my mind and body entangled in a war of control. One side wants to reach out to accept the piece of food, the other advocates to wait for Alfie to retract his hand. In the end, I clench my jaw and fight my very nature to take it.

He leans back, the beginning of an affectionate smile lingering like a ghost on his lips. After a moment of watching me nibble on the cookie and take a sip of tea, he speaks up. “Still trying to get into Shelby’s company?”

I shake my head. “I don’t feel confident enough for that. I’m not really too good with the books, am I? Maybe in the far future. When I’m better.”

“I don’t think you’re doing too shabby. In fact, I think you’re doing pretty well. Simply need to practice, is all.”

It’s basically immediately reaching for the top, the stars far out of reach and only for the gods to touch. As if a prestigious company like Shelby Company Limited would accept a rookie bookkeeper, a nobody without experience. That is, if I manage to pass the exam.

Alfie puts his half of the cookie in his mouth. An appreciative hum rises from his throat as he munches on it. A wave of calm gratification washes away the guilt of eating, replaces it with a flush of warmth throughout my body. I take a deep breath, once again able to breathe a little easier around him.

He wipes his mouth on a napkin, which he then uses to wipe some of the crumbs from his beard. “How about you become my bookie?”

“Pardon?” I squint at him like it might help me understand him better. Either that, or prove I misheard him.

“Would take some of the burden off me shoulders. Let me focus on other things to keep this place open for business.’’ The silliness of his grin amplifies the glow in his cheeks. However, there’s anxious anticipation in the way he twists his rings. “‘Sides, you’re the only one I trust with my finances.”

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll fuck up?”

“You’re a clever little bird so I don’t think you will. You will pass that exam, after all. I’m certain of it. But, if it makes you comfortable, we can figure it out together in the first few weeks. Two pairs of eyes are better than one, innit?”

Not because of second opinions, controlling perfectionism, nor business.

But because we sometimes need help.

And that’s okay.

[archivelondonfalling-rpg]

Things to do in London in February

VALENTINE's DAY is just around the corner. Who will your character cosy up to in those chilly days of February?

Snatch those Ellie Goulding or Carly Rae Jepsen tickets before they're gone. Or perhaps would you rather head in CAMDEN for the Rock music festival?

Dance, dine and have the time of your life. That's what Mamma Mia! The Party promises on their poster. If I were you, I wouldn't miss it.

Van Gogh : the immersive experience : Art fans and instagramers alike have been flocking to this exhibit.

If you prefer to support your contemporary artists, the ICA is celebrating their 75th anniversary. Take to the dancefloor and prepare for a spirited evening. 

The ROYAL CORONATION walking tour takes you on a trip down the history of British coronation. This is certainly something that will delight tourists and those who enjoy the quirkiness of it all. Is it the place to voice your distaste for monarchy or the new king? Who am I to say.

Head to the pub, order a schooner or a pint and enjoy the Six Nations rugby tournament with your pals !

Or, if you're more interested in good ol' football : the men's Champions league resumes on Valentine's Day, so now would be a good time to tell the love of your life about it !

Former US presidential candidate BERNIE SANDERS will be doing a book signing for "‘It’s OK to Be Angry About Capitalism" this month. If it's your character's cuppa, it would be a shame to miss it.

Last but not least, it's time for the LONDON FASHION WEEK again. If you're not invited, look out for plenty of spin-off events, after-parties and sales popping up in the city while the models strut their stuff.

Below read more : a sneak peak of the next event

Preparing for the PLOT DROP

With this NEW SEASON comes a NEW FEATURE : plot drops won't be as much as a big surprise as before, allowing your characters to prepare for events and make world building easier and smoother for all. Here are a few hints at what comes next :

THE JABBERWOCKS have just selected their new leader, Theodore Byrne, cousin to Malachi Liddell, their former leader gone missing.

These days, tongues are loosened only to advance on how to play their next card. Do they want to secure their backs or strike hard, and remind London, but especially their thieving and murdering friends that they have no intention of being replaced? Business resumes and without the treaty, nothing prevents them from selling their products on the land of the Jolly Rogers and to nibble, little by little, on this territory which once belonged to them.

The JOLLY ROGERS, meanwhile, elected by democratic and universal vote, Javier Vidal at the head of the organization. The latter not being known for half measures or for excesses of diplomacy, will invite the members of his gang to prepare for a sizeable heist on the casino (The Red Rose Casino) of their lifelong enemies. They'll take advantage of a public event to both infiltrate the party and rob the Jabberwocks of what could have been a very good evening.

As for the media, and members of the government : they'll be invited to the event personally, for the Liddell family is a corner stone of this city, and not the sort of donators you want to turn your back on.

Civilians and law enforcers will have seen the posters announcing a night to remember all over the city. Inhabited by the atmosphere of the roaring twenties, the casino will be dressed in gold and black and invite you to dance and spend the night away, so prepare your nicest dress, straighten you bow tie and join us for this decadent event !

Please like this post once you've read it.

[angel-bruises]

For the lolita fashion ask: 2, 3, 7, 14, 16

Since there's quite a few to answer here I'm gonna put them under a read more

2. What was your first piece?

My first ever pieces were this awful Gothic Lolita & Punk JSK and head bow, blouse with weird wristcuff things, and these Antaina(>) shoes which were pretty cute tbh. I was 14 so. thats my excuse lol..

3. What is your most recent piece?

My most recent piece was this awesome Marble faux leather skirt. I just wore it recently in an ero coord but I haven't posted the pics yet

7. What inspired you to join the fashion?

So when I was around 6-8 I got the FRUiTS book. I was already into fashion and stuff and I was obsessed with the book, J-fashion pretty much became a special interest. I used to like google lolita dresses on the google shopping tab and like open loads of links to dresses (which looking back were almost certainly milanoo) and wish I could buy them, I also found Sweet Rococo and used it like a game and just never checking out. I sort of just thought I'd never be able to wear lolita though because it was sooo expensive (I guarantee you those milanoo dresses were like £50 lmao). Tbf I didn't know much about the brands or where to buy. When I was 13 I made a friend who was also into lolita and Jfashion, and together we discovered the online Live Journal community, which we lurked. When I was 14, I spotted a sweet lolita walking down the street in my city while I was on the bus, I texted my friend immediately lol. The last thing that happened was I took a trip down to london and discovered Sai Sai and Gothic Lolita & Punk in Camden market, and begged my mum to help me buy a "full" outfit, which is the one above. Sorry for the blog post lmao

14. What is something about previous eras of lolita fashion that you'd like to come back?

The quality of well made cotton pieces in oldschool and even late 00s/early 2010s. I hear so many newbies say that taobao is equal or better quality than brand but I think that's just because the quality of the big brands has declined so much. It's such a shame. I also miss the unity of the Live Journal era. Maybe i'm viewing in rose tinted glasses because I started in the fashion just towards the end of the LJ community being active, but I miss the community having one main spot to congregate y'know?

16. What common misconception about lolita fashion bothers you the most?

Just one? I feel like they all bother me lmao. I guess any non lolitas saying that we're all elitist bitches and evil gatekeepers for having a basic criteria for what makes something lolita. Like okay it's kind of true but not in the way non-lolitas think it is. Another is that we dress like this for attention or that it's okay to photograph us without asking

[azurdlywisterious]

And Strange Moons Circle Through The Skies...

AN: heheheh harvey sequel go brrrr. Okay this is a slight embellishment of me actually fighting the [spoilers] in the game (mainly because i don't remember that well lol) (and also im adding psychology to what in actuality was “red health bar must hit must go down to zero” with no remorse because i, azurdly, am playing a video game) (harvey is a bit unlikeable here but oh well)

Word count: 1k

CW: general blood/injury but nothing that wouldn't be pg-13, alcohol/potentially implied light alcoholism

My curiosity and confidence in my sickle weilding abilities have beaten back my common sense. I want to explore what's in my backyard. I want to see what the Mole Miners prevent me from knowing.

"You sure about this, Harvey?" Punk asks me before I go. "Those Mole Miners are no joke."

I smile. "They can't be any worse than super mutants or those things that go bump in the night."

"Look, just be careful, okay?"

"I promise I'll be careful," I swear to him as I strap on my gas mask. "Plus there's only one way to know what's beyond their base. What if there's orange juice? What if they're hiding it?"

"I know, I know," he tells me. "I just worry that one day you won't come back. And then I'll have to take care of this base all by myself. And I don't want to do that."

I think long and hard before responding, "I swear I'll make it back alive, Punk. Can't leave my best friend on a cliffhanger."

I see Punk flex his hands and flick his fingers before giving me a silent nod and walking back upstairs to his radio station. I bite the inside of my cheek and head out the door.

The green foliage soothes my anxious nerves as I begin my crusade. The atmosphere desaturates the further I walk up the mountain. I brandish my Juggernaut sickle. I can take on any foe with that in my hand.

I hear the scraping of the Mole Miners in the area. I can tell they're close. I climb up the tower to some abandoned office and wait for one to venture up the stairs. Divide and conquer, baby.

A shot to the arm notifies me that I need to get to work on them. I shut my brain off, my only thoughts being swing sickle and inject stimpack if my heart starts to go.

Hack, hack, hack. Stab, stab, stab.

Before I know it, I feel the adrenaline leave my body knee deep in mutated bodies. I take deep breaths. I'm drenched in blood. I don't know if I love it or I hate it. I keep going up the road.

I se a pack of super mutants off in the distance and veer the other way before they spot me. I don't have super mutant killing energy in me today. All I want to do is explore and scavenge. And I've found some good scrap so far!

Further up the mountain and off in the distance, I see the light of a fire illuminating a crude structure. What is it? I move closer to find out.

As I get closer, I see the Mothman cultists surrounding it. Sadly, my arrival was not subtle, so they see me. A shame too. I add a couple more bodies to my long list of everyone and everything I've killed. It's kill or be killed outside of the vault I've learned; and if you attack me, I won't hesitate to fight back. My mom and dad want me to rebuild this place since they no longer can. My mom and dad deserve one last gala at Camden Park.

"They deserve this!" I hear myself scream as I slay the last cultist.

I hear him breathe out, "I regret nothing," before falling limp to the ground. I stopped feeling sorry for the cultists long ago. If you keep running into my sickle, don't be surprised when you eventually bleed out.

I loot what I want from the gazebo and keep walking. I drink a bottle of vodka as I trudge. I don't want to think about the blood. I just want to explore, and scavenge, and rebuild the outside word and give my parents one last gala.

Something glowing catches my left eye, a purple light shining off some old train cars. Like a moth to a bug zapper, I move closer to the light. There’s drones and stuff flying overhead, but what’s right in front if me is much more interesting.

In front of me is a pack of mongrels, glowing with an otherworldly purple light. In the center of the pack is a creature I have only ever heard of in fiction and in the ravings of so-called madmen. We’re far from Flatwoods, but I don’t think this alien monster in front of me cares. I hit it once before it teleports, leaving me to dispatch its dogs.

I make quick work of the mongrels before I notice that Flatwoods Monster come back. And I won’t let it get away this time.

It attacks me, but only briefly. I wail on it with my sickle before getting frustrated and pulling out my laser pistol to do the job quickly. I show it no mercy. Whatever cut open my face made that choice for me years ago. This is another one of those creatures. I will kill it.

The Flatwoods Monster falls, still glowing purple. I take what I want from the corpse and make my way back down the mountain. I can barely close my backpack, which is my queue to head back to C.A.M.P.

I make it back, weary from the hiking and the fighting.

“Glad to hear you made it back, friend!” I hear Punk say from upstairs.

I join him on the second floor to drop off all the extra junk I found. I hear the sound of his headphones being dropped.

“What happened to you out there, Harvey?”

“Calm down.” I roll my eyes as I take off the gas mask. “It’s just a little blood.”

He wipes his fingers down the sleeve of my leather jacket. “Why is the blood purple?”

“Killed a Flatwoods Monster,” I reply nonchalantly.

“You did what?!”

“Killed a Flatwoods Monster.”

“Oh, man. The network is gonna be so fucking hyped to hear that! What was it mind controlling?”

“Mind controlling?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he reiterates. “I’ve heard rumors that Flatwoods Monsters can read and control minds.”

Read minds…? Did it read my mind? I was thinking about that night ten years ago. Did it see that?

“Uhh… a pack of mongrels,” I answer.

“Kinda lame, but whatever. It’s dead now.”

“Mhmm,” I nod before we return to our solitary activities.

Eventually, I drift off to sleep downstairs, my dreams now flooded with purple light amidst the tattered cloaks. I regret nothing.

[thebigbrotherlahey]

"Oh...sure. I thought you were going to say something bad." Camden said. "I could drive you back as well. No need to do the walk of shame."

He was buzzing. He didn't think this would happen. "I don't have a car...mind if I drive with you?" He asked him.

[popentertainmentconcertreviews]

XPoNential Festival – Wiggins Park – Camden, NJ – September 22-24, 2023

They say that the 10th anniversary is the tin anniversary, and the 50th anniversary is the gold anniversary. Unfortunately, for the 30th anniversary of the annual XPoNential Music Festival, it seems that it was the rain anniversary.

Mother Nature did not cooperate with the weekend of diverse musical acts jamming out at Wiggins Park in Camden, NJ. Tropical storm Ophelia was battering the East Coast that weekend, and while no major damage was inflicted on the Philadelphia tri-state area, the area was slammed with rain. This caused regular reshuffling of schedules for the Fest on Saturday and Sunday, and the cancellation of some of the acts – including Saturday night headliners Tegan and Sara.

This was particularly a shame because this was the first time in years (if not ever) that there were not at least the last few bands on a couple of the nights playing down the street at the Freedom Mortgage Pavilion, which is an amphitheater and at least partially enclosed and would have provided shelter from the storms.

However, the bands and the die-hard crowds for the most part were hearty sorts – sadly far heartier than this writer – and they often played on throughout the storms. I have to acknowledge up front that while I was looking forward to an entire weekend of good music, I ended up missing the entirety of Saturday’s sets and only was able to see one of the Sunday acts.

I actually sat in my car in the parking lot for about an hour Sunday afternoon in the hope that the rain would clear up enough to catch the Bruce Hornsby and the Noisemakers and Low Cut Connie sets, but the rain just never went away. Which is a shame, I have heard that Hornsby did a fascinating complete reinvention of his 1986 number one single “The Way It Is.”  

Friday, on the other hand, was pretty exceptional. I walked into the park at the very tail end of the performance by Nik Greeley and the Operators. I heard the last couple of songs from their set from across the park, where I went to the Marina Stage to await the start of the next act. They sounded good, I’m sorry I didn’t catch the whole thing.

Next up was Philly-based Don McCloskey. (McCloskey was born in nearby Bristol.) He played to the hometown, rocking a Phillies cap (the old-school one with the fat P!) to share that he was a homeboy. In the lazily milling crowd before he came up onstage, a guy next to me promised he was pretty terrific and put on a great show. The guy wasn’t wrong.

He certainly had a big, rather tight eight-piece band, featuring himself on lead vocals and guitar, another guitarist, a bassist, a keyboardist, two percussionists and two female background singers. They were celebrating their latest album The Chaos and the Beauty, and his music was a mix of Americana, folk, rock and soul. He started out with a romp through the track “I IV V,” which opened with the evocative lyrics “There's gunshots outside my apartment / There's protests inside my head / Bullet holes in these worn-out clothes / Thank God you're in my bed.”

The drama was dialed down a bit with the more relaxed “Dre” and the somber confessional “Unbecoming.” Other standout tunes included “Kill the Lights,” “Son of it All” and “Welcome to the Fitness.”

We next headed over to the River Stage, where Margo Price was about to come on. Price came onstage looking smart rocking a lacy white and gold jumpsuit and scarf. (I only mention her outfit because in the middle of her set she changed into a different one, a frilly red-and-silver cocktail dress.) Like McCloskey – and pretty much everyone else who plays on WXPN – Price offered a gumbo of spicy tunes and musical moods, crossing genres and styles with panache.

Price brought the heat from the jump with her most recent album Strays’ atmospheric opening track “Been to the Mountain.” (She did announce that a Strays II was coming soon.) Then there was the frisky and poppy “Letting Me Down,” the bluesy “Change of Heart” (one of two songs Price played a scorching drum solo) and the sweetly devastated breakup song “That’s How Rumors Get Started.”

The guitar-based psychedelia of “Twinkle Twinkle” was another song in which Price’s playful connection with her crack band was noticeable. Then she rocked out to “Paper Cowboy” (the other song where Price shared drumming duties) and finally closed out on the alcohol-based medley of “Hurtin’ (On the Bottle)” matched with “I Think I'll Just Stay Here and Drink” and “Whiskey River.”

Next up on the Marina Stage was Say She She – made up of singers Nya Gazelle Brown, Piya Malik, and Sabrina Mileo and a large backing band. They refer to their sound as “discodelic,” a musical tribute to ‘70s girl groups like The Pointer Sisters, High Inergy, The Three Degrees, LaBelle, Sister Sledge and Chic. (The band name is a fun nod to that last group, “C’est chi-chi!: It’s Chic!”)

They do rock the soul and dance vibes, adding their own subtle swing vibe to the mix. Their mostly matching outfits add to the disco vibes, shiny silver minidresses and boots which look tres ‘70s, and at the same time oddly timeless. That description not only refers to their fashion sense, but their music and their whole vibe, a fun, dance-based palette of throbbing beats and sweet harmonies.

They did a terrific take on their recent single “C’est Si Bon” – a fun and frisky swinging dance track, which is NOT a cover of the Eartha Kitt jazz standard of the same name. The “delic” version of the “discodelic” descriptor shows up in “Astral Plane,” a sweet song riding on wah-wah guitars and cosmic vibes. Then there were the gorgeous Love Unlimited vibes of “Prism.”

The show also had a bit of extra, unexpected spectacle in the middle of Say She She’s set, when a random fireworks display suddenly appeared over the river, seeming to be coming from across the water in Philadelphia somewhere. I don’t believe it was specifically done for the music festival, although I’m not sure what it actually was for. (Was there a holiday that day which I forgot?) Still, it added a fun bit of pizazz to the show, although since the fireworks were behind Say She She’s audience at the Marina Stage, lots of people turned away from the performance to watch the fire in the sky. Then again, it added to the enjoyment to hear the stomping music backgrounding the fireworks.

After they ended, back at the River Stage, Old Crow Medicine Show did a fun mix of originals and classic covers. These tributes included takes on The Band’s “The Weight” (for which they brought Margo Price back onstage to harmonize with them), a fun romp through Creedence Clearwater Revival’s “Proud Mary,” a combustible version of Jerry Lee Lewis’ “Great Balls of Fire,” and an inspirational take on Hank Williams “I Saw the Light.” They also did a sweet version of “Margaritaville” in honor of Jimmy Buffett, who had just died a few weeks earlier. The performance of “The Weight” earlier was also a tribute to The Band’s recently deceased guitarist/songwriter Robbie Robertson, and “Proud Mary” was a nod to Tina Turner, who famously covered the song.

Old Crow has always been an intriguing mix of influences, an Americana string band that loves bluegrass, country, folk, and even a bit of rock. Or, as Wikipedia describes them: “With an old-time string sound fueled by punk rock energy, it has influenced acts like Mumford & Sons and contributed to a revival of banjo-picking string bands playing Americana music – leading to variations on it.”

With decades of songs in their own catalogue, not to mention the aforementioned covers, the group did a deep dive into its songbook. They did a couple of songs from their current album Jubilee (the gospel tinged “One Drop” and the zydeco “Wolfman of the Ozarks). Older favorites include the frontier music of “Wagon Wheel,” the alt-country throwdown “Alabama High Test,” and the crazily entitled jug-band prison song “Brushy Mountain Conjugal Trailer.”

Sunday’s gigs (and undoubtedly Saturday’s, too) were all at the River Stage, because the Marina Stage was undoubtedly a soggy, muddy mess from all of the storms. This worked in some ways – no running around the park from stage to stage. Of course, it also had the disadvantage that it removed the constant flow of performances, because the stages couldn’t be reset for the new acts while someone else was playing. Still, this was necessary and a small price to pay. Well, it would have been a small price if not for the rain.

The sun actually poked through in the early afternoon and the rain stopped long enough for Josh Ritter to get in his set. Of course, due to the weather uncertainty, his show was completely revamped, going from a full band set into a one-man acoustic gig. According to one of the festival workers near the stage, Ritter also threw away his old setlist and decided to make up a new setlist on the fly while performing. This gave the performance a sense of spontaneity that you don’t often see, so that was a really cool bonus.

Probably not coincidentally, Ritter started out his performance with a galloping strut through “Feels Like Lightning,” which seemed a bit fitting for the weather. Other standouts were an atmospheric run through “Henrietta, Indiana” and a fun cover of The Sweetback Sisters’ “Deputy Blues No. 2.” He also impressed with the sweet, devotional love song “Kathleen,” with its hopeful couplet, “I’ll be the one to drive you home, Kathleen.” He then closed his set out with the gorgeous “Someday” and the tongue-twisting “Getting Ready to Get Down.”

After Ritter finished, while the roadies were setting up the stage for Allison Russell to start, the rain started again. At first it was just a little sprinkle, a bit annoying but definitely bearable. But soon enough it picked up speed and intensity, until everyone and everything was getting soaked. Sadly, this was pretty much the end of the festival for me, although as noted above I did shelter in place for a while in hopes that the rain would clear up again.

It never did, but while the weather shortened my weekend, it could not ruin the great vibe of music and fun that ruled the XPoNential Festival. And perhaps if I weren’t a bit of a diva (or if I were a little younger) I’d have braved the rains – like many other hardcore fans did – rather than going all Wicked Witch of the West (picturing myself shrieking “I’m melting! I’m melting!”) I would have gotten to experience more great music.

Still, even as a truncated experience, the 30th XPoNential Music Festival was a whole lot of great music and fun, I’m looking forward to year 31, hopefully with clearer skies.

Jay S. Jacobs

Copyright ©2023 PopEntertainment.com. All rights reserved. Posted: September 27, 2023.

Photos by Jay S. Jacobs © 2023. All rights reserved.

[daisies-and-buttercups]

“Love and War / Chapter II″ - Luca Changretta x reader

Summary: Waking up to an empty bed and the words that Luca left for you, you soon realise that everything is going to go down today, and you’ll soon have to pick a side. 

A/N: I swear that this post took me at least three tries, tumblr kept deleting and/or messing up the formatting so I’m really hoping that this is worth it lol 💕

Words: 2.7k

Chapter I Chapter III

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

The next morning you shifted in bed, stretching your arms in search of your lover’s body, but all you felt was the crumpling sheets, still warm from where his body was not too long ago. You groaned, sitting up and scanning the room, eyebrows scrunched into a tired look. If you had to guess what had happened the night before just by looking at your room you wouldn’t have had any clues. Your clothes were neatly folded by the chair and there was no other evidence that anything had indeed happened. No clothes abandoned on the floor, no man lying next to you. 

You walked down the stairs almost second guessing yourself, thinking over the night's events while you prepared a cup of coffee that you so desperately craved. Taking a big sip your eyes landed on the small table by the door, only usually adorned by a small plate for your keys and some letters that you hadn’t gotten around to opening yet, now decorated by a beautiful bouquet. You never had flowers around, the item useless and expensive, not something that you could afford with your paycheque, but just with their presence they lit the room up, their delicate perfume filling your lungs. You smiled and walked up to them, lifting the small card up to read it. A simple phrase full of adoration and love, with a few words in Italian, made you blush at the love you felt, but the final sentence made your heart drop. 

If today is kind with my soul, I shall meet you in your dreams tonight, mio amore.

His handwriting was smooth and elegant with each word, but the last sentence was slightly messy, revealing his feelings maybe more than he was used to. His fear. He didn’t think he’d make it back.

So today was the day. 

You scurried over to the phone, picking it up and calling the Shelbys, hoping that someone, anyone, would answer, but no one did. There was no point in leaving the house, you wouldn’t know where to find them and you had no way of knowing where Luca was either. There were many places where this showdown could happen, and even if you found it, what were you going to do? You couldn’t just waltz in hoping not to get shot. Still, the mix of emotions in your chest made you dizzy. Why didn’t he say anything? You dreaded the images that flashed before your eyes, first that of Tommy’s lifeless body, still clutching his gun, then that of Luca, tumbling as a bullet hit him square in the chest.  Tears fell as you pictured those scenarios, but knew that that was all they were. They weren’t real. But even knowing that, you couldn’t stop pacing around the room, counting the minutes and going over the events of the past few weeks.  You didn’t know how to feel about this whole ordeal. You never forgot how Tommy and his family welcomed you when you had been left with nothing, giving you a job, food, inviting you over for drinks and celebrations, but as much as you dreamed of it, you’d never be part of them. You fit in, but not fully. You weren’t part of their circle, but you were part of their “clean” life. Tommy made sure to to leave you out of the dirty deeds, even if you gathered what happened behind closed doors, and by doing so he shut you out of the only part of their life that would make you fully fit in with them. Then Luca arrived, and the calls, on the phone that Thomas brought just for you, since you couldn’t afford one in any other way, started becoming less frequent, with less news. No more talking about the business, no more working by their side, no more gossiping with Ada or Polly on Saturday evenings. You still got your salary, somehow left by your door with nothing else attached to it, not even a note, but that didn’t change the stark difference in your routine. You barely felt like family, or whatever you had ended up being, anymore. You felt even more left out now. So when Luca came around and actually listened to you, and talked to you, and shared his interests while asking about yours, you felt appreciated, loved. You had found somewhere where you fitted.  And now here you stood, weary of whose death you’d have to cry at the end of the day.

It took hours for the phone to ring with news, which made you jump into alertness, rushing over to answer. “Where is he?” You stayed quiet for a moment, fully expecting to hear Polly’s or Ada’s voice, not Tommy’s. He was alive, and clearly Polly had told him about your meeting with the Italian. “Where is-” “Where is he?” he raised his voice in unison to the loud sound you heard not far from him, probably his fist banging against the table.  So they still were both alive. You let a breath out that you were unaware you had been holding, gripping your clothes tightly, adrenaline running in your veins from the news.  He didn’t usually raise his voice, so his anger was evident, yet you weren’t sure if it was directed at you or at Luca. He clearly had gotten away, and the thought of that was enough to lift that weight off your chest. “I don’t know, Thomas.”  “You knew last night, though, didn’t you? When he was in your bed? Bet it felt good, eh, fucking the enemy?” You didn’t answer, your face blushing in shame and anger. He had no right to spy into your personal life. You knew that in his books you were on the wrong side of the war they were fighting, but his words were harsh, cutting through you without any of the warmth they once held. “Don’t defend a fucking wop. Tell me.” “I don’t know where he is. But this has to end, Thomas, this war you’re-” “Why don’t you tell that to your friend?” He pronounced the last word with sarcasm and hatred, but what hurt him was the betrayal he felt when you made it clear that you cared about him.  “I already did. I told him I support neither of your ways. Just stop, someone’s gonna get hurt.“ “And it would be a shame if you got caught in the crossfire.” he spat out, the silence ringing in your ears as if his threat were a slap. “Goodnight, Thomas.” You replied, slamming the phone down, not even sure if he was still there to hear you but not willing to argue anymore. You didn’t stop walking around the halls, hoping that someone else would tell you more about what actually went down, still in the dark, but no one did. 

That night you laid in bed, thinking over everything that had happened, or at least what you knew. The fairytale routine you had fallen in with Luca, the fancy restaurants, chivalrous words and tender kisses were taken away from you so soon after they started, leaving you desperate for what you had started growing so used to. Had it not been for the vendetta, he’d probably be here next to you right now, drawing circles on your shoulders with his fingertips, kissing you softly. But he wasn’t here, and all you knew was that he must’ve been alive somehow, since Tommy had no idea as to where he could’ve been.  Standing up you took a few steps towards the small balcony, desperate for some fresh air. There was barely enough space to stand on it so you leaned on the window frame, spotting someone moving away just as you glanced down towards the back street. Had you been in a less emotional state you’d have never chased after them, but right now all you wanted were answers.  You turned the corner, losing your balance as you slammed into someone, but their hands held you up, pulling you against them.  “You shouldn’t have come out here, principessa. You never know who might linger in the dark.” With your mouth agape you stood still for a moment, realising who was standing in front of you and finally wrapping your arms around him, colliding with his chest once more. He let out a low chuckle, melting into your embrace and holding you, feeling your heartbeat calm him down, a natural remedy that only you could provide. Your tears fell freely, wetting his coat while you shivered against him. “Well, lucky me then.” you joked, breathing in his scent, the notes of sandalwood surrounding you. “What happened?”  “Nothing. The police got in the way.” he shrugged lightly, his hands still around your waist, pulling you against him. “Thomas was looking for you. He called me.” he nodded, looking around the street for any signs of someone spying on them, but no one was around at this time, but he didn’t care either way. “I’m leaving for Camden Town. I won’t be back for a few days, so you won’t see me for a bit.” “And what are you going to do in Camden Town?” You asked, although you already knew the answer. He wouldn’t stop, and there was only one man in London that had a strong connection to Tommy, and not always a good one. You had never met Alfie Solomons, but you knew enough about him to know where this was going. “Not important. I came to get a goodbye kiss.” his eyes crinkled as he smiled, lifting your chin with his fingers and finding his mouth, kissing you with an initial softness, growing into a hunger that he couldn’t afford right now. He groaned, breaking the kiss, resting his forehead to yours. “What are you planning, Luca?”  “Goodnight, dear.”  “It’s not gonna end well.” “Goodnight, dear.” He repeated, kissing your forehead and lingering for a moment more, before urging you to walk back home, waiting until you were out of sight to slip away, walking towards the car that would take him to London. 

You spent days waiting for something, but there was nothing. No calls, no letters, no news.  You picked a few books off your bookshelf, books you had never had the time to read, and scanned the pages, not managing to focus on more than a few pages. It was that dark feeling in your chest that you couldn’t ignore, and the lack of news only made it worse, feeding your mind with the most horrible scenarios.  It felt like a blessing, if only for a short moment, when a call arrived shortly after dinner. You were resting your head on the sofa, singing along to some old songs while you stared at your hands, the concept of time slowly slipping away, when you received the news, making you sit up in disbelief. Polly had been brief, delivering the news and nothing more, leaving you clutching your telephone and staring into thin air for what felt like hours. She hadn’t said anything more, leaving you with the feelings that surrounded you. Sadness, rage, hopelessness… everything was bubbling in your chest, a feeling of guilt coating everything, making you feel like you were somehow at fault here, like you hadn’t prevented this.  You paced around for most of the night, only pausing your wondering when the realisation hit you again, big tears slipping past your eyes as you recalled the memories of the times shared, stopping your incessant actions at the faint knock at the door early in the morning. “I saw your light on.” he looked behind you, his lips twitching up for a short moment, only to fall back into a stoic look when he met your gaze, clearly seeing the tears that you tried to wipe away before opening the door, your eyes red with sadness and rage. “Tell me you didn’t.”  It was a whisper, one that made his heart break. It wasn’t just your expression, nor the redness under your eyes, but your moving away from the door, as if you feared him.  “Alfie Solomons-” he started, willing to offer an explanation for his deeds. “I don’t care about Alfie! I asked you to stop this after the vendetta happened!” you shouted, getting closer just to throw punches at his chest, yet no matter your anger you were nothing but gentle, barely making him flinch.  “He didn’t stop either.”  “Because he’s stubborn. He’s-” “I am too. He killed my men. Just ‘cause you were closer to Arthur doesn’t mean that the death of my men means nothing.” “I don’t want to be part of this anymore.” you announced, slipping from his grasp and moving away, putting as much distance between the two of you as you could. “You never were a part of this.”  “Maybe not, but with how things are going I’m going to end up as collateral damage.” “You know I’d never let anything happen to you. Even if you stood by him, I wouldn’t-” You turned and walked up the stairs, ignoring his words and grabbing your traveling bag from the wardrobe as he made his way up, scoffing but following you into the bedroom nonetherless.  You picked your clothes and folded them quickly, placing them in the bag and throwing a couple other belongings in.  “What are you doing?” He asked, sitting on your bed and stopping your movements by holding your hips, his touch delicate, in harsh contrast with his look. He always felt so… different around you. Delicate, careful, loving. Little things, like the way he remembered what wine you liked, or some of your little quirks, or the softness of his touches when he was near you. After the night where you both fell into your bed, he’d become more open with showing his affection, but before that he never really shied away from it either. His hand gently cradling the small of your back when guiding you into a restaurant, or the brush of his fingers against your cheek when a stray hair got away from behind your ear. “I’m ending it tomorrow.” He announced, avoiding your gaze. “What?” You turned to face him, not fully understanding his plan of attack. “I called a meeting with Thomas.”  “To apologise?” “To make a deal.” He corrected you. “But it might not work. So…” He took one of his rings off, holding your hand and placing it in your palm, closing it around it. “To remember me by. Or not. Maybe it’s better to forget me, after all.” He brought your hand to your lips, as if to seal a deal, smiling. “I won’t have to remember you. You’re not going.” Your hand on his arm was supposed to stop him, or slow him down at least, but he just smiled at you as you would with a child that doesn’t fully understand the state the world is in.  “I have to finish what I started.” “Luca, don’t.” you tried to give it back, but he shook his head, moving away from you and down the stairs. “Arthur didn’t deserve it.”  “He’s the one that pulled the trigger.”  You didn’t speak, not knowing what to add. You knew he was referring to the death of his father, but what Arthur had done was almost out of mercy. Tommy wouldn’t have stopped, so he intervened. There were many mistakes he had made in his life, but dying because of an act of mercy wasn’t what he deserved.  “Ti amo, bedda mia.” And with a final look he left, not waiting for an answer, exhaling when the door closed behind him. He saw the way you looked at him, the tears that escaped your eyes, feeling betrayed by his actions, but he did what he had to do.  “Luca, we’re not finished talking.” Your words had no effect on the man, just like you knew they wouldn’t, but you couldn’t stop yourself from speaking them. It wasn’t only grief that was holding you back now, but fear. For a moment you saw the man just as he had been painted since the beginning: a gangster, a killer, nothing more but a heartless man. You fell back against the wall, clinging on to the ring he had gifted you, the only thing that felt certain right now. You watched as he stepped out, closing the door behind him ever so gently, to avoid making noise, and wondered what hid behind those eyes. How much could you risk for him?

He could feel you looking at him as he made his way out, knowing just how disappointed you were, but he wouldn’t back down. He knew what was going to go down tomorrow, what he’d say, how he'd move, and he’d do anything to have you by his side. 

After all, all is fair in love and war. 

[blvshed]

she knows exactly what she's doing as she walks with extra sway in her hips, seduction oozing from each and every step. it's a shame that he was so gorgeous, that they hadn't met under different circumstances. if they had, then maybe addison would want to date him for real, would hold an interest in getting to know him beyond him just being a mark. "in this economy, i'd be shocked if you said it was affordable. nice to know that we can work something out, though." and she follows him back to his office with that same sway. the moment he starts speaking she has to repress a smirk from her face, knowing full well that she already had him after putting in so little effort. "and what kind of arrangement do you have in mind, camden?" she inquires, stepping forward until delicate fingers rest on his forearm.

As they walked outside together Camden eagerly stayed a couple steps behind simply to watch her walk. Obviously she was sexy and he already had some ideas on how they could help each other out. Camden looks over the car popping the hood open to get an idea of what repairs need to be done. "I mean just looking at it I think I can do it but it's gonna be pretty expensive. Maybe we should go back into my office and we can talk about some options. Sure we can work something out." He smirked closing the hood gesturing for her to follow him.

Camden closed the office door behind him making sure the blinds were closed before sitting on the edge of his small desk as close to her as possible. "You sure you got the money for this? If not we can make an arrangement of sorts. Nothing crazy but uh, a more personable approach. Won't be anything you'll hate I can assure you of that. Especially based on how flirt you're being with me." He smirked crossing his arms as he leaned back. "Guess it just depends on how bad you wanna fix up Miss Judy."

[jonquilyst]

Day 28 - Lilium Pond & Dahlia Grove

Even though these two were not eliminated traditionally, they decided to walk the Dock of Shame to mark the end of Total Drama Sims!

THANK YOU @seyvia and @ashubii for volunteering your sims! I've grown to love them both and I'm so happy they ended up being the finalists!! Each of them has a distinctive personality with a distinctive story and that's what I love most about them.

The winner may officially be Dahlia, but I consider Lilium to be a winner in her own right. She is the only contestant who made it to the merge to always be declared safe in an elimination round. The only others who have this distinction are Alexis and early-outs Aubrey, Kenzie, and Aster. She also had the most positive relationships, friendships, and close friendships out of everyone. Simply put, this girl was so well-liked that she hardly got any votes.

Dahlia had to try a little harder to stay in the game, but having allies also made the difference for her. Despite the hiccup she had with Anika, she was resilient enough to pull through! Also, the fact that the girl who accidentally became a contestant by getting on the wrong bus won the entire thing is both amazing and hilarious!

Lilium and Dahlia had the guts, strength, and perseverance to make it all the way to the end. Even though only one person could win, both of them deserved to win. I really hope you think so too!

Now, it's time to celebrate before our 14 castmates return home to their normal lives!

CONGRATULATIONS DAHLIA and THANK YOU to everyone who submitted their sims for Total Drama Sims 💖 I had such a blast hosting this series and I hope you enjoyed every bit of it!

If any of you are interested in sharing what your Sim does after Total Drama Sims, feel free to share it with me! I would love to know what your sims' afterthoughts are and how their experience impacted them.

Well, until next time! I'm your host, jonquilyst, and this has been Total Drama Sims!

Official Leaderboard:

14th: Elli Proudmoore by @void-critters

13th: Aubrey De Peyster by @chaoticpixls

12th: Kenzie Ritchie by @wastelandwhisperer

11th: Aster Ernst by @mayzie-grobe

10th: Cassie Fuller by @softle0

9th: Alexis Youngblood by @thebramblewood

8th: Reagan Felix by @prismaticpotentia

7th: Anika Patel by @comfyinn

6th: Poppy Sparks by @micrathene-w

5th: Camden Reese by @simsinfinitylt

4th: Terrance Vellard by @aniraklova

3rd: Logan West-Harper by @akitasimblr

2nd: Lilium Pond by @seyvia

1st: Dahlia Grove by @ashubii

If you're interested, you can view this spreadsheet for a more detailed leaderboard that includes challenge wins and when someone almost got eliminated!

[fandom-puff]

Mistake

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x ShelbySister!Reader

Requested by: anon

Summary: Alfie knew he made a mistake when he pushed you away, and when you show up in the middle of a meeting with Tommy, it all comes flooding back to him

AN: sorry writing has been few and far between this past week. I’m honestly not feeling much inspiration to write the requests in my inbox (don’t worry- if I’m not writing yours I’ll say- plz don’t bombard me asking if I’m doing this that abd the other!). Also, tomorrow, I’m gonna make a start on the kinktober stuff, so I can get it all queued up for the relevant days. Anyways, enjoy.

Gif creds to owner

Warnings: swearing

He remembered it, plain as day.

The way your smile faded into a deep frown; the way your bright eyes dulled, before filling up with tears; the movement of your lips, despite no words coming out; the cream cake you had left on his desk as you fled the bakery before the tears could fall.

He couldn’t bring himself to eat the pretty cake, slightly squashed from being in your bag, the icing a little lopsided...

He let ollie have it when he told him to cancel they table at the restaurant he was meant to be taking you to that very night. “Shame, that, Boss. She seemed to really like you,” ollie said, leaving the room before he could get a clip round the ear.

“Yeah... yeah it is,” Alfie had mumbled into nothingness, staring at the door rattling in its frame. He brooded for weeks, hardly seeing anyone, snapping at those he did. But it was more than his life’s worth to even think about seeing the Shelby girl as much as he had been. If word of your illicit relationship reached Birmingham, all deals with the brothers would be off- as well as, most likely, his head.

Or cock, he thought shrewdly, sighing as a telegram from Birmingham came through. It had been three months since he last saw hide nor hair of a Shelby, and he could only imagine what Tommy wanted with him now.

***

Life in small heath was, admittedly, not as glamorous as it was in London, and no where near as exciting as the bakery in Camden Town. Still, it was your home, and you adored every inch of it. On your first night back- the train had been delayed- you went to your aunt Pol’s not wanting to deal with Tommy’s bombardment of questions at that hour. Once Polly had lowered the gun she held to your forehead as you came into the house unannounced, she pulled you into a tight hug and fixed you some whiskey, sensing that tea probably wasn’t strong enough.

“I’ll talk to tommy,” she said gently. “Tell him the deals off. He shouldn’t have sent you in the first place, not to London. Not on your own,” she said, before tucking you up in bed. You were glad no one had told her that her niece had been to barter with Solomons all those months ago (she would never have allowed it in the first place). Even if she sensed your heart shattering into a million pieces, she was none the wiser to who caused your heartache. You were fine with that.

***

That was until three months since your return- and not a word said to tommy about the issue with Solomons- you barged into Tommy’s office.

“Cakes and pies for you, boys! Can go running a business on empty bellies- shit. Sorry Tom. No one told me you had a meeting. Wasn’t in the diary,” you said bashfully as John grinned at you.

“Not to worry, YN. Mr Solomons dropped by,” tommy said cooly as John took the cakes off you and put them on the counter with the whiskey. “Polly seems to think that all business deals with Mr Solomons here have been rejected. Deal’s off, she told me,” you gulped under the gaze of your older brothers, biting you lip slightly as Alfie turned slowly to you, the wide brim of his hat casting shadows over your face.

“Why don’t you come and sit down, Miss YN?” He said. You squeezed your eyes shut before opening them. It had been so long since you’d heard him speak.

“Don’t you bloody tell our sister what to do,” Arthur growled from the side of Tommy’s desk.

“Shut up Arthur,” you and tommy said at the same time as Tom directed you to sit down next to Alfie anc across from him. “Now, YN, I sent you to London last year for a very simple purpose. To get Mr Solomons on our side. Now, you come back to small heath eight months later, telling me that there’s no deal. That mr Solomons got cold feet. Now that, YN, is bullshit. Because we all know what a negotiatior you are. Lord knows, it’s a wonder we got anything done while you were little, forever insisting we teach you things you had no need to know,”

You looked to your knees, before looking back up at tommy, decided to fix him with a matching icy stare. You would not be lectured by your brother, not now that you were a woman yourself.

“And then, three months after her return,” he continued. “It comes to light, Solomons, that there was a deal. But you sent my sister away with no real explanation,” he turned to Alfie. “And I’d like to... put that to rights, if you will. Your lot need us, Alfie, as much as we need you. Now. Explain. Why’s my sister sent away despite her very reasonable deal, Hm?”

It was quiet for a moment, and you hoped to any god who was listening that Alfie would bluff his way out with one of his meandering speeches.

“Right, well, you see right,” a promising start... “you send your little sister, who’s a proper little woman, right, down into my bakery, with her pretty eyes and her flirty laughing, yeah? You send your little sister down to Camden Town to seduce me,”

Shut the fuck up, Alfie, you thought.

“And yeah, I admit it worked for a bit, yeah, took her out a few times an’ all,” Tommy’s eyes hardened, and Arthur and John had murderous expressions on their faces. “We was getting along alright, wasn’t we, YN, love?” You nodded, your jaw tense. You would certainly be in trouble with your brothers after this. “But then I sent her away. Told her ‘nah, YN, pet, we can’t keep this up, right? Too fuckin’ dangerous for you down here, yeah. And what would your brothers think, eh? What if you end up pregnant or summin’” I said to her, right, and sent her back up to this shithole to keep her out of trouble,” he leaned back in his chair, as if his explanation had solved everything.

It most certainly had not.

If looks could kill, Alfie Solomons would definitely be six feet under, under the harsh glare of the Shelby brothers. You snapped.

“For fucks sake!” You cried. “So I’m seeing Alfie fucking Solomons! So what?” You demanded. “What’re your going to do about it, eh? Cut him a new smile and have half of London after us, eh? You said it yourself, Tommy, we need Solomons as much as his lot need the Shelby’s!”

Your chest rose and fell with fury, and Alfie couldn’t help the gaze of adoration that he bestowed upon you.

“YN,” Arthur said, his measured voice forced, as if he was trying very hard not to shout. “If this man... this-this bastard has hurt you or threatened you-”

“Oh shut up, Arthur. Not every man is a threat to me,”

“But YN, you’re-”

“I’m what, John, eh? Delicate? Stupid? Too young? Fuck off. How many times have aunt Pol, Ada and I fixed your messes, eh? I think I know what I’m doing!”

You rounded on tommy, who was suspiciously quiet. “Alfie Solomons is a very dangerous man, YN,” he said steadily.

“Oi, Tommy, mate, I am right here. I let Arthur slide, yeah, Cos he’s off his rocker,”

“Shut it, Alfie,” you hissed, and he held his hands up in surrender. “Tom. I’ve grown up around dangerous men. All my life, I’ve had dangerous men around me. Dangerous men walked me to school. Dangerous men helped with my homework. Dangerous men took me for my first proper drink. Dangerous men have and always will be my family,” you spoke with such passion, your eyebrows firmly knitted together as you spoke, jaw set the way it always did when you refused to back down. “I am not a child anymore, boys. I can’t be tucked away nice and quiet in Small Heath all my life. Just be glad that you’re aware of this now and not when I’m four months pregnant with a baby I’ve no intention of getting rid of!” You swiped angrily at the tears that had trickled down your cheeks as you glared tommy down.

Sighing, he stubbed out his cigarette and stood up, straightening his jacket. “That’s that then,” he said, beckoning an unwilling Arthur and John to follow him (both murmuring angrily and confused).

“Oh and Solomons? I expect to see a ring on my sister’s finger by Sunday,” he said, before slamming the door shut.

Tags: @lotsoffandomrecs @rai-strangebr @peakyswritings @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby @zodiyack @haphazardhufflepuff

@raccoon-is-my-spirit-animal @anyataylcrjoys @hiddensapphic @rabeccablake @halepea @eleven-times-lively

[winterrose527]

The Favor: Part 3, London, England

psychotically posting for the second time today to hopefully cheer up @amillcitygirl who is having a lousy Monday. This is the third and final part, I hope you all enjoy! This was such a fun prompt!

(Part 1) (Part 2)

London, England

It was raining once again, but she was used to it and in all honesty it suited her mood.

“It’s like this city doesn’t understand the importance of a good blow out,” Marg complained as she lowered the umbrella so that it was fully encasing them.

She smiled, “I told you it wouldn’t be worth it.”

“Well I’m sorry we can’t all throw our hair into a low bun and look like a perfect Parisan girl with poreless skin!” Marg argued.

She fought the urge to roll her eyes, knowing that Margaery was in a mood because she’d been in a mood.

It was impossible not to be. Not when they’d figured out on the way to Milan that she’d actually found him. Robb. Her Robb. The boy she’d thought of after every bad date. The one who’d become her stand-in for a prince from a fairy tale.

When Harry had cheated on her during her first year at Cambridge, she’d told herself somewhere out there is a boy named Robb who would never do this to me.

She understood logically that this was ridiculous. That she didn’t know him from Adam and he might be a full-blown sociopath. But the point of a fantasy was that you didn’t have to get bogged down in reality.

And in her fantasy, Robb was the one boy in the whole world who would never hurt her.

Except, he wasn’t a boy anymore. He was a man. That was the only explanation for how she hadn’t recognized him.

He had been beautiful when he was younger, now though he was… it made her body tingle just to think about him. He’d grown a beard, he was broader, there was… wisdom in those blue eyes of his.

And the fact of the matter was, that over the years, she’d forced herself to think about him less. It wasn’t to be, she was never going to see him again and she knew that and it wasn’t healthy for anybody measuring up real guys to a figment of her imagination.

But then they’d been on the train to Milan, trying to figure out what photos to post and what to caption them, and she’d gone to the kissing picture.

“You have such a type,” Marg laughed. “I can spot them from a mile away.”

“Well can you blame me? Look at him,” she noted. Then she did just that. “No wait, look at him. That’s… that’s him… that’s Robb!”

“No it’s not, don’t be ridiculous,” Marg told her.

“Pull up that post- I swear to God it’s him,” she said.

Marg opened her phone and scrolled through Instagram and found her post. They put the phones side by side.

“Oh… oh my god,” Marg said.

“It was him,” Ella realized, leaning back against her seat. “He was right there… and I… ran away.”

“El…,” Marg lamented.

“It’s fine,” she shook her head, “I’m fine. I’m just being stupid.”

Margaery looped her arm through hers and leaned her chin on her shoulder, “Want to know what I think?”

Ella felt her lip quivering and nodded before leaning her head on top of Marg’s.

“I think, that fate has a plan for the two of you,” Marg told her, “And I’ve read enough mythology to know that you don’t stand a chance against it.”

Ella let out a teary laugh, “I’m so glad you’re a Classics major.”

“That,” Marg pointed to the picture of Robb from the day before, “Is a hero, if ever there was one.”

She wasn’t so sure that she needed a hero. But a boyfriend that looked like him would be pretty nice.

Though she’d tried her best, she hadn’t been able to get out of her funk. Marg had come all this way only to be at her side as she sulked her way through Italy.

So when they’d woken up this morning and Marg had determined she didn’t care whether it was touristy or not, they were going on the London Eye today, she hadn’t had it in her to deny her.

They’d stopped at Bluebird for a coffee and breakfast, Marg smiling coquettishly at the Chelsea boys who lingered by their table. None of them interested her though.

She’d convinced Marg to take the tube, telling her there was more to London than black taxis, and that she had to get used to it as she’d be taking it every day. That or the bus. She hadn’t really figured it out yet.

Living in Chelsea wasn’t the most convenient neighborhood of London to live in to attend the London School of Economics, but her family had a townhouse there that no one was using so it had made sense. Plus she loved Chelsea, she always had. And the townhouse. The fact that she could walk across the bridge and be at Battersea Park. That she could walk a few blocks in and be in South Kensington, at the Victoria & Albert Museum. Her mother had always used London as their jumping off point for their overseas travels, so it had always felt a little like home.

When she’d gone to her undergrad at Cambridge, her and her friends would come down for long weekends and reading weeks, alternating nights at Raffles and indie shows in Camden.

And now she was living here, full time. That was enough to bring a smile to her face as they stepped onto the London Eye, hooking her arm through Marg’s.

They were the first to step on and Marg took advantage by determining the perfect spot for them to stand, and they settled in, grabbing their phones. She was sort of glad that Marg had suggested this, she’d never do it on her own and it really would be a great way to see the city.

Soon the capsule filled up and she felt them starting to move.

“No stop it I’m not doing that,” they heard a voice behind them say, “Because it’s different for girls!”

“Just-“

“No Theon! You want to do it so bad, you do it,” they heard.

“Excuse me, people are trying to enjoy the majesty here,” Marg suggested.

She covered her mouth to hide her laugh, squeezing Marg’s arm.

“Oh I’m sorry,” they heard and turned around, “You see my friend here he-“

“Ella?” a voice asked.

No not a voice. That voice.

That had been different too. More developed. Deeper. Sexier.

“Robb?” she wondered.

“Wait Ella Ella?” one of his friends asked, looking her over, “Okay, now I get it.”

“Oh my god it is you!” Marg laughed pointing at Robb.

He was even more handsome than she remembered, standing there with rain drops in his curls. He was tan, clearly having just been on his own holiday, an adorable strip of pink on the bridge of his nose.

His eyes were wandering over her, a smile growing on his face.

“Hey I –“

“No!” he held his hand up, “Just… shush for a second.” She glanced at his friends who were openly gaping at him. Marg was smirking. Robb reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone and handed it to her. “Please just put your full name and telephone number and I don’t know… maybe an emergency contact in there – and then I’ll kiss you in front of whatever landmark you want me to. I’ll kiss you at the DMV. I’ll kiss you at the Post Office. I don’t care, I’ll kiss you anywhere and everywhere just while I… please don’t run away again.”

“We’re literally on a giant ferris wheel where the fuck do you think she’s gonna go?” his friend asked.

“Shut up, Theon,” Robb and their other friend said.

She took his phone, trying not to smile, and typed Ella Baratheon and then her telephone number into his phone. She looked at it to make sure that it saved, and then opened up his contacts again to double check before handing it back to him.

His eyes hadn’t left her and he shook his head, “It is you… right?”

It had been a long time since she’d channeled her inner Audrey, but she couldn’t help but smile and ask, “Didn’t I tell you in Paris that we’d meet again?”

“Oh my god,” Marg murmured.

“I’m Theon by the way,” Theon stage whispered to Marg.

“Are you seriously hitting on me in the middle of our friend’s five year meet-cute?” Marg asked him.

That seemed to shame Theon who promptly shut up.

“I didn’t know it was you, in Rome,” she told Robb. “I didn’t know, I wouldn’t have run away I… it’s you.”

Robb smiled and he nodded, “It’s me.” Then looked around, “Some guy you kissed in Vienna isn’t going to jump out and kick my ass, is he?”

She laughed and shook her head, “No… that was a two time thing. Promise.”

“Told you,” Robb said to his friends, but his eyes stayed on her.

“Marg?” she asked.

“Yeah El?” Marg responded.

“Get your camera ready,” she told her.

And with that she leapt into Robb’s arms. As though he’d been about to reach out and grab her anyway, he caught her easily. His lips pressed against hers and though the other kisses had been good, this one was better because it was him and he didn’t want her to run away and he was holding her like he’d stop her if she tried.

One of his hands moved up her back and went into her hair before cupping her cheek, kissing her deeply, as though he’d been just as miserable as she was these last few days.

“We’ve got the picture,” Theon informed them after they’d been kissing for at least a minute.

“From multiple different angles,” their other friend sighed.

“Lean her back a bit more,” Marg suggested.

She started laughing against Robb’s lips as he started laughing against hers. They broke apart but he kept holding her and she leaned her cheek against his as they turned.

“Hi I’m Ella,” she greeted his friends.

“Jon, nice to meet you,” one of them said.

“I’m Theon,” the other one said, “And you owe me a trip to Ibiza because he ruined mine moping about you.”

“I’m sorry,” she laughed, “What if I um… convince Marg here to let you buy her a drink?”

“Ella!” Marg chided.

“Oh come on Marg,” she grinned, and just as Marg had five years earlier, she teased, “I dare you.”