#for ex always being the last thought. feeling like he's not arthur's son. all his friends being mean to him etcetc | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

im-constantly-fangirling-backup · 3 years ago

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Here Comes the Cavalry

REPOST BECAUSE TUMBLR HATES ME

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Swear words

Word Count: ~2.3k

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting this, anon! I had a really fun time writing this and I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Charlie's 10th birthday finds itself the center of a showdown between Thomas and his ex-wife over the new woman in his life.

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Being a friend of the Shelby's- didn’t matter how close or distant- was like walking around with a target on your back. But you didn’t mind. As much violence and chaos that the family attracts, and as much as they try to have power over each other, there was a mutual love and respect between every Shelby that you hadn’t seen anywhere else. For example, when Polly found out Tommy had hidden crucial information, she was pissed; but also proud. It was a bit concerning, if you were going to be honest. Even Grace was kept in the loop after the divorce. Once a Shelby, always a Shelby, you supposed. Grace wasn’t involved in the family business at all, but she and the family met occasionally. Although, as time passed on, it was mostly so Charlie could spend time with his father. Grace was now remarried and her visits were far and in between. She drifted apart from all the Shelbys- not that they minded, as her betrayal was still in their minds all those years later. Thomas started to move on from her as well, now very much used to Grace not being a part of his day-to-day life. Today was the day that Grace and Charlie were making a rare visit to the Arrow House for his 10th birthday. Thomas postponed all of his meetings for the entire week to make time for his son, an action that made you smile when you heard Tom tell his clients of his absence. And they call him heartless, you had laughed to yourself. “Ada! How are you doing!” you said, hugging your best friend before walking into the Arrow House. You took off your coat and hung it on the hook next to the door. “Oh I’m doing great sweetheart,” she said. “Auntie Y/NNNNNN!” you heard a little boy’s voice yell from the stairs. The pitter-patter of their feet running across the wooden floor echoed through the large room and made you chuckle. “Hello, Karl!” you kneeled on your knees and opened your arms for Karl, who ran into them and almost made you topple over. “Someone’s excited to see me!” You squeezed him lightly, resting your cheek on his head. You pulled away from him and reached into your purse, grabbing a chocolate bar that you had bought for Karl. “I got you something!” Karl smiled, his cute crooked teeth on display. “Thank you!” He grabbed the bar from your hand and started unwrapping it, running away from you and towards the living room. “Uncle Arthur, look what Auntie Y/N gave me!” he yelled. “What did I say about the chocolate?” Ada chided you. You laughed. “I couldn’t help it Ada,” you defended yourself. “He’s too adorable to not spoil.” In the background, you heard Karl laugh loudly. “You can’t have any Uncle Arthur, it’s for me!” You chuckled and shook your head, looking down at the floor in mock exasperation. The Arrow House would be nothing without the echoes of Karl’s screams bouncing around the walls from time to time. Even Thomas seemed to brighten up a bit more whenever Karl and Ada visited. You supposed it was because his nephew reminded him of his own son that he barely got to see. At the thought of Charlie, you looked up to Ada. “When are Charlie and Grace showing up?” Ada shrugged. “They should be here in a couple of minutes. Why don’t we head to the living room? Tommy bought a shit ton of food for Charlie so we might be able to steal a bit.” _______________________________________________________________________________________ You and Ada made your way into the living room and smiled at the exquisite birthday decorations. There were balloons of every color bunched up every couple of feet around the room, a large birthday banner hanging proud and true on the wall across from the fireplace. “Hello, Y/N. Ada,” Tom said from where he sat on the couch, his elbows on his knees. You smiled at him. “Thomas.” Tom smirked slightly- which was a fucking bright-ass grin when it came to Thomas. “We’ve been over the ‘Thomas’ shit, Y/n/n,” he said, quirking his brow. You chuckled. “We have,” you said. “Tom. ‘S just fun to be all fucking formal.” Tom pat the spot on the couch next to him while Ada left your side, sensing that you two wanted some

time alone. You walked over to Tom and sat next to him. “You excited?” Thomas nodded, his blue eyes brightening slightly. “I hardly get to see Charles anymore. You bet your ass I’m spoiling me boy when he’s here,” he joked. You laughed. “I’m sure Charlie’s going to like all of this,” you gestured to the decorations around you. “Oh! Before I forget! Where should I put this?” You reached into your purse and pulled out a folded mancala board that Charlie had begged you for the last time he visited. Thomas smiled and took the board from you, leaning down and sliding it under the couch. “We’re going to open presents after cake, so just remember to pick it back up.” From there, you and Thomas began to talk about the family business. Unlike with Grace, Thomas found himself consulting you on many decisions that he made. You weren’t directly involved but your advice was greatly appreciated by the family. Especially since Thomas wanted to get into politics- a field that you knew well because your father ran for MP multiple times before his death- your advice on what not to do gave him valuable insight on how to maintain a favorable public image. “I know your past is something that can’t be erased,” you said in response to Tom’s concerns about the subject. “But that doesn’t mean it can’t be hidden. Or at least left ambiguous enough that people can’t ask the right questions. You keep the public from asking the right questions, and you make sure they can never find the answers.” “It’s a bit unnerving that you know this,” Tom noted, a smirk on his face. In truth, he was impressed. Your knowledge of politics was quite extensive considering your father tried to keep you away from it for most of your life. But you knew how to eavesdrop and read gossip, and so you gained a wealth of knowledge about politics. You laughed. “You’re acting like you don’t already know this.” Thomas took a drag of his cigarette and chuckled. “You got me there.” Your conversation was interrupted by the distinct shrill of the doorbell. Tom perked up and smiled. “Charles is here!” He practically jumped up from his seat on the couch and made his way to the hall. You followed him to the hall, beckoning Karl, Ada, and Arthur- who had been quietly eating food in the corner, thinking Tom hadn’t noticed- to come with you. You and the group walked into the hall to the sight of Thomas laughing and picking up Charlie in his arms and bouncing him up and down, making his son giggle. “Happy birthday Charlie!” you exclaimed, clapping. Arthur, Karl, Ada- and John and Polly, who had been talking in the hall after you arrived- clapped and joined in wishing Charlie a happy birthday. Charlie and Karl shared a hug that resulted in you awing. You looked at Grace and smiled. “Welcome, Grace,” you greeted her respectfully. Grace simply nodded at you and took off her coat. Turning around to put her coat on the coat hooks next to the door, she gasped lightly in shock when she saw your coat resting next to Tom’s. “Whose coat is this?” she asked casually. You apologized profusely. “It’s mine, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to impose. I can find a different place for it-” Thomas waved his hand nonchalantly. “Oh, no need. You’re not imposing, Y/n/n.” You blushed slightly. “Frances can take your coat, Grace. I trust you remember who she is?” He jabbed at her lightly. Grace huffed and nodded. “Alright.” The tension between Tom and Grace was palpable and made everyone make excuses to leave the room. You left as well, saying something about wanting to play around with Karl and Charlie. You knew things were bad between Thomas and Grace. So bad, in fact, that Tom had approached her with a divorce. Tom was many things, but he wasn’t the type of person to reach for a divorce. He believed that marriage lasted for life. But after Tom’s and Grace’s arguments over his ambitions and dreams started to grow from skirmishes to screaming matches littered with threats, Thomas had enough. He told you the night that he decided to divorce Grace that he didn’t want to spend his life with a woman

that didn’t support his political and business ambitions. You found yourself sympathizing with both of them. You understood Grace’s concerns about the target that would always be on her and Charlie’s back because of Thomas’s ambition. But you also understood Thomas’s argument that his ambitions were also the thing that would provide his family with more opportunities than he had. Thomas’s goals were a double-edged sword. Although, Grace had become quite cold to Thomas in retaliation for the divorce, often sending him and his family veiled insults. So you didn’t feel much remorse for her when Tom made barbed comments like the one made in the hall. You sighed while watching Karl and Charlie play. It was going to be a long party. _______________________________________________________________________________________ All of you were eating cake, you talking with Polly about some gossip that you heard when going shopping for groceries. “Apparently Brandon was just using her for her status,” you said, licking the frosting off of your fork. “But then Brandon caught Melissa sleeping with her boss-” “No fucking way!” Polly interrupted, putting her plate down and gasping. “How the hell do these things happen to people!” You laughed. “I know right! My life is boring in comparison- and I hang out with you insane idiots!” “Hey!” John said from across the table, his mouth full of cake. “We’re not that bad!” “Speak for yourself,” Ada muttered from next to her brother, cringing when John stuck his cake-covered tongue out at her. “Honestly, Y/N,” Grace’s refined voice reverberated through the dining room, “You shouldn’t be gossiping this much. It’s a boring pastime.” You quirked your brow. “I’m sorry?” “Oh it’s alright, I understand that some people have nothing better to talk about. I’m just saying, gossip signals a bland personality and I’m sure you don’t have that, hm?” Grace’s implied message was clear. You sat in silence for a moment, surprised. “No?” you said, going along with whatever Grace said. In all honesty, you didn’t care what Grace thought of you. She barely visited enough for you to give a shit. But apparently, Tom didn’t want to let it slide. “Look, Grace, it’s not a big deal to gossip, alright? You’d be a big fucking hypocrite telling Y/n/n not to gossip when pretty much everything you talked about was who was fuckin’ who-” “Thomas!” Grace chided. “What? If you’re going to walk in here and criticize how Y/n/n spends their time, you can fuck off, alright? I don’t need some posh stuck-up woman in me house. So either behave yourself and let Charlie have a good birthday,” Thomas threatened, “Or get out of me house and have fun on the streets for a week.” “You’d let your own son live on the streets for a week?” Grace asked, shocked. “My threat regards only you. Charles is me blood- you make me see blood.” Grace looked down at her plate and picked up her fork and ate her cake again. Tom took that as an agreement to get along with everyone and started eating again as well. You were just thankful that you had sent Karl and Charlie to play upstairs. But regardless of the tense situation, a smile graced your face at the immediacy that Tom defended you with. _______________________________________________________________________________________ “Hey,” you tapped Thomas’s shoulder when you both found yourselves alone in the back room. “Thank you for defending me.” Tom nodded and smiled slightly. “Of course.” “I mean it. No one really defends me so I really appreciate it. Especially since it’s Grace.” Tommy’s brows raised slightly at that comment. “What do you mean?” You shrugged, looking anywhere but at Tom. “I mean, she was the woman that made you the person you used to be before France. I understand there’s some bad blood between you two now, but she’s still special to you.” Tom hummed and walked closer to you, stopping at around 2 feet away from you. “So are you, you know. You’re special to me.” You smiled. “You’re special to me, too.” Thomas’s hand cupped your cheek lightly, his thumb stroking

back and forth. A flush made its way to your cheeks and you smiled shyly at Tom. There was always some unspoken bond between the two of you that you danced around. You were always scared that it was too early after his divorce, but with the way that he was looking at you, he probably got over it a while ago. You don’t know who leaned forward first, but one second later your mouths were connected in a feverish kiss. Tom’s hands were traveling places, touching parts of your body that you caught him eyeing from time to time. Your hands rested against his chest and reveled in the feeling of his heart thumping against his chest as erratically as yours. So you had the same effect on him as he did on you. The kiss was a good indicator of that, but it was nice to have reassurance. Tom pulled away and rested his forehead on yours. “Fuck, I’ve wanted to do that for months now,” Tom confessed. You smiled, pecking him on the lips. “So have I,” you replied, pulling his mouth back to yours.

#tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby angst #thomas shelby angst #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine

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fleckcmscott · 4 years ago

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Coffee & Donuts

Summary: Arthur’s thrilled to be part of a crowd. Though the evening doesn’t go perfectly, Y/N’s flirtations make it sweet.

Warnings: Smut

Words: 4,602

A/N: Alright. After the heart wrenching angst of my last piece (which I love, by the way; don't get me wrong! 😂), I had to write another story in which Arthur and Y/N are happy and together. It's inspired by one of Arthur's visions during their kiss. I hope you all like it! Special thanks to @jokerownsmysoul for beta-ing!

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

Parties and celebrations weren't foreign to Arthur. He'd worked plenty, enough to make him realize what he'd been missing out on. He was well-versed in pin the tail on the donkey, musical chairs, and balloon animals. But as an adult, those activities didn't satisfy. He wanted to be included rather than paid. Connect with people, introduce himself. Discuss his experiences and pursuits. Feel sufficiently at ease to loosen up a little and have a good time.

Now he was a guest - a certified guest - at Patricia Gorman's fifty-sixth birthday party. The first party he'd been invited to since being the weird kid in class who'd rotated between three worn out sweaters and could never afford a gift.

He'd been a tad apprehensive about going to Burnside. Gotham's nicest borough had a reputation for high rents and low tolerance. When Y/N and he had entered 2E, however, Patricia's greeting ("You made it!") and the apartment were thoroughly welcoming. Crocodile brown walls and forest green shag carpet made the spacious living room a cozy hideaway. Marigolds leapt across the polyester of the T-cushion sofa and its easy-chair companion. The floor lamp's amber, crimped glass shades cast the spacious living room in a glow borrowed from warm autumn days.

Patricia's husband, Robert, was out on an emergency call. An HVAC had gone haywire in a residential building in Hinckley. Her daughter, son-in-law, and grandson had been by for lunch. That meant the only other guests were Matt - Y/N's old boss - and a bottle-blonde in a black halter dress and spike heels, who Y/N introduced as Laura. ("She's Matt's ex-wife," Y/N later disclosed. "He's been trying to win her back since I moved to Gotham.") Both shook Arthur's hand when he offered it, and he felt a little thrill whirl his stomach when Y/N laid claim to him by telling the woman, "This is my husband."

A collection of appetizers served as dinner, a fun and novel menu. The slow cooker meatballs Y/N and he had lugged over on the subway were a bit tangy; he still couldn't believe the recipe called for grape jelly. The deviled eggs with paprika, a pleasant mix of savory and sweet, was a dish he'd heard about on television. Cream cheese and cucumber sandwiches were light and airy, a good match for his iced tea. Only the artichoke and spinach dip gave him pause. Its beans and hot sauce made his taste buds wince.

That unpleasant flavor was quickly forgotten when Y/N pulled him to sit next to her on the sofa, so Patricia could open her presents. She proudly showed off the orange, clay ashtray her grandson had made for her. Arthur, having successfully kept the secret of her light smoking from Y/N, chuckled at Patricia fibbing she'd put candy in it. She thanked Matt and Laura for the champagne, wrapped in a silver bow with a simple "Happy Birthday" tag. The bottle wasn't popped. Upon peeking into the large giftbag Y/N placed on her lap, she made a soft sound. The Dazey whirlpool bath, which attached to the side of the tub and had three strength settings, was a hit. She announced her plans to try it in the morning. The dark blue Rexbuilt briefbag was intended to replace her cracked, leather briefcase, Y/N explained. Patricia ran her fingertips along the expanding inner compartments, the personalized planner that included the credential "CLA" after her name, and flipped through the included steno pads, eyes brimming.

She sipped at her cocktail and put an arm around Y/N. Melancholy tinged Patricia's voice. "At my age, the people in your life tend to stay the people in your life. Whether you like them or not." She reached further and patted Arthur's knee. "I'm glad an old dame like me gets to call you all friends." His throat clenched in gratification, though he wasn't daring enough to squeeze her hand and thank her for deciding he was a friend.

Still on top of the world an hour later, Arthur sauntered to the red and white enamel dining table to serve himself a second slice of upside-down pineapple cake. The evening had gone well, better than a guy with a natural inability to mingle could've expected. He bobbed his head to the beat of "Come Fly with Me." It was a happy coincidence that Patricia's taste in music aligned with his. She'd regaled him with tales of seeing Sinatra and Count Basie on her and Robert's honeymoon in Vegas. Arthur took a bite absentmindedly, wondering how long it would take for him to save the money to surprise Y/N with plane and concert tickets.

The daydreaming didn't last long. Matt's plodding footsteps preceded him, followed by a long sigh as he propped himself on the beige stone of the dining area's accent wall, across from the u-shaped kitchen. He held out a Budweiser and smirked. "Marriage is a hell of a lot of work."

Pleased that he was being treated like one of the guys, like a regular husband with a regular relationship who got to speak about his regular wife, Arthur accepted the beer and considered the comment. Matt's sentiment was hard to grasp. Dr. Sally had said marriage could be difficult, and Y/N's first hadn't survived the ripples of her life. But it didn't feel like work with her. Their arguments were minor. Her nagging him to find a primary doctor for annual check-ups, even though he'd survived this long without one. Or back in Missouri, when he'd told her to stop shielding him and trust he could take anything she had to give.

Arthur adopted a similar nonchalant posture and jutted his hip against the table's edge. "I like it. It's easy to take good care of her." He wasn't able to completely erase the smugness of success from his tone.

"You're what? Two years in with the most headstrong woman in Gotham? She's great and all, but she spikes my blood pressure." Matt slapped Arthur's back and let out a hearty guffaw. "Give it five more and you'll be in my office trying to avoid alimony."

"Don't. Say that." Arthur crinkled the can in his grip and glared up at him.

"Hey," Matt started, withdrawing even as he tried diplomacy. "It was just a joke. I didn't mean anything by it."

Flinching, pulling at the cuffs of his red sweater, Arthur fought the surge of anger in his veins. It wouldn't do to lose control and cause a scene. Of course Matt's comment about them splitting up was supposed to be a joke. But Arthur didn't find it one bit funny. Even with his complete faith in her and his firm belief that they were meant to be together, the possibility that she'd stop wanting him hurt. It didn't occur to him that the implication of the punchline could be that he'd get sick of Y/N.

With a muttered apology, Matt walked to the others in the kitchen. Arthur glanced over to see her laugh tipsily, until she grabbed her stomach and swatted Patricia's shoulder, a stark demonstration of how much he and Y/N differed. She always knew how to respond to people, the right comebacks. Appropriate timing and levels of interaction. It seemed she was in her natural element, the loveliest swan on a lake. Whereas after years of therapy and practice with her, he was still a fish out of water, flopping around on the shoreline in hopes some stranger would take pity on him and throw him back into the sea.

Maybe that was the real punchline. Eventually their contrasts would no longer complement each other and instead become a chore.

Scowling, he ambled towards the record player stationed before two double-hung windows. Increased the volume to drown out the intrusive notions. It didn't really work. He settled on a grounding technique he'd practiced, all the while lamenting that he couldn't handle a party without needing it. His attention went to the spinning LP, the needle following its grooves. The bright blue album cover, where Ol' Blue Eyes beckoned him, the scuff marks on the cardboard's corner edges. He acknowledged the spider plants sat on the windowsill, worried a papery leaf until it broke off. He stared out the window, taking in the whole of the city. Pinpricks of light dazzling in the darkness.

"Gotham's beautiful at night," Y/N said from behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to watch her approach. Her cheeks glowed with alcohol and good cheer, the collar of her ivory blouse unbuttoned. "There's a life behind every light out there. Ten million of them. Here. Try this." She offered her hurricane glass, filled with an off-white slush.

He sipped the pina colada with cautious skepticism and grimaced as soon as it hit his tongue. The blend of pineapple and coconut tasted of cheap sunscreen and tropical imitations, the kind advertised in smudged brochures for bad cruises to islands with made up sounding names. "No, thanks."

Snorting, she shrugged and embraced his back at the waist. "How are we doing?" she asked, curling into his side. After a few seconds, she prodded him. "Had your fill of Matt?"

"He was just joking." Arthur rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. She set the drink next to the record player and brought her hand to his, trailed it over the inside of his wrist, up his forearm. She pecked his chin and nudged him until he turned to her. As soon as their gazes met, the concern in hers told him she'd continue to pepper him with questions. But he wasn't about to let his misplaced doubts spoil her evening. And he knew the perfect way to distract them both.

A new song started. An oldie that sang of Jupiter and Mars, playfulness among the stars. He cupped her cheek, thumb sweeping the corner of her mouth. "Dance with me," he said. Before accepting his proffered palm, she laid a sloppy kiss on him. With a flutter of her eyelashes, she grinned, and his smile grew to match her own. As he held her side, led her in a slow, swaying circle, he marveled at her. At her ability to soothe every molecule, every lingering ache. Self-assurance welled in him, chased away his earlier dejection. He cradled her to his lanky frame, trembled and felt himself blush. She was the only woman for him. That was as certain as his cigarette habit.

Despite Patricia's reassurances she was fine, that Robert working late wasn't unusual, Y/N insisted on staying until he got home. Though Arthur would have preferred they take their leave an hour earlier, being allowed to smoke inside blunted his grumbling. The disarming flirtations she bestowed on him also didn't hurt. She'd pour herself a drink (four in total, if he counted correctly), help Patricia make a plate of leftovers for her husband, then throw him a wink. Whisper and cackle while cleaning, then kiss his temple.

Around midnight, Patricia put her foot down. Ushered them out with a promise to call and a hug fierce enough to crush his ribs. She raised a brow at Y/N's unsteady gait, grasped Arthur's arm, and said with a wry, tired smile, "Make sure you put that woman straight to bed." His dark brows shot up and held. Had she intended a pun? Or had Y/N's spare caresses caused the interpretation? Either way, he liked being trusted to take care of her. And the hint of arousal that flared in his belly.

By the time they stumbled into their apartment, that arousal had reduced to a dull exhaustion. She kicked off her heels on the way to the bathroom, calling a slurred "night!" as she closed the door. Yawning, he put dish soap and hot water in the crockpot, scrubbed burned bits of sauce from its rim, turned it upside down on a towel to dry. Once he'd brushed his teeth for one minute rather than the recommended two, he tossed his sweater, trousers, briefs, and socks in the hamper, and went to the bedroom. He found his blue pajamas in their usual spot, the chair in the corner, and slid them up his skinny but toned legs. Tucked in next to her, he was carried to sleep on waves of fatigue and her quiet, wet snoring.

~~~~~

A tickle threatened to rouse him. Whispers along the waistband of his bottoms. Heat snuggled his back. Delightfully drowsy, he cuddled deeper into cozy, cream-color sheets, already returning to a pleasant, dreamless slumber. But a rumble of exhaust, likely from a bus that needed a new muffler, dragged him to consciousness. Arthur grumbled and tucked his arm under his pillow, not ready to transition to a world of overcrowding and concrete, commotion and bad jokes.

Yet, Y/N's insistent grazes continued, luring him with promises of placid pleasure. Her toes wiggled at his heel until he made space for her to slip her foot between his ankles. The corner of his mouth quirked. He was reminded of last night's playfulness, her endless teasing. The way he'd held the crockpot as a shield to fend off her advances on the train home, her forwardness to the point that he would've preferred having a laminated card to present on her behalf. Forgive my wife: she has a condition. It causes frequent and uncontrollable displays of affection.

Nimble fingers edged lower, loosened the tie of his pajamas before dipping beneath the loose elastic to lace through his dark brown curls, darker than the chestnut hair on his head. Her knuckles ran over him, lazy caresses full of intent. Up and down, up and down. Delicate. Deliberate. The blood racing to his groin, the pleasant swelling, made his abdomen twitch. Soon full and heavy, the sensitive tip straining the cotton seams, he pressed his lips together. When she skimmed the tender skin resting on his inner thigh, he flexed the muscle at the base of his erection. It bobbed and hit her wrist and she let loose a girlish giggle, more intoxicating than wine.

With her left leg draped over him at the knee, she undulated against his rear. Plush lips brushed the boney knobs of his spine, damp breath fanned the nape of his neck, labored, needy. Pebbled nipples grazed his back through the thin nylon of her nightgown, taunting and compelling. He made up his mind to throw an arm around her, to yank her on top of him. To eagerly take part in her seduction.

But she withdrew from his bottoms to palm his stomach and plant a gentle kiss to the shell of his ear, whispering, "Sleep tight." The mattress shifted and she rolled away from him. He furrowed his brows. She rarely relented this easily - other times he'd awakened, hard and aching, enveloped by the captivating wetness of her mouth. What was she up to?

Covers rustled. Her calf bumped his. And the opposite of what he'd assumed occurred. Instead of light footfalls leading out of the room, there was silence, silence that seemed to stretch on and on...

Until a hitched gasp gave her away.

Touching herself. She was touching herself. She'd just been all over him, acted like he was some sort of model on the cover of Vue magazine, and now she was touching herself. Right beside him! Ecstatic to have inspired such brazenness, he grinned and fisted the pillow. Her fleeting, stifled moans tangled him in knots, implored him to give her what they both burned for.

He flipped in her direction, his hand shooting under the sheet to grab hers. "Gotcha."

Eyes wide, she gaped at him in surprise. But adoration softened her expression as she entwined their fingers. "How long have you been awake?" she asked.

"Long enough."

He stretched to rewind the shades, the diaphanous curtains staying in place. Sunlight diffused over them, wrapped around her face, lent her disheveled hair a warm luster. He twirled a feathered lock and pecked her eyelids. "Finishing what you started on the subway, hm?"

"Me?" Y/N brought his knuckles to her mouth. "You're the one who came to bed without any underwear."

"Well, it was a late night." The pad of his thumb tugged at her bottom lip to reveal the pink tip of her tongue. He bent to claim it. "I was lucky to find my pajamas."

Chuckling, she broke their connection. "Did you have a good time?"

"Yeah. The cake was good. And the music. Everyone was nice."

"Patricia loved having you there. She thought you were very sweet." A pause as she mapped a dimple. "Matt said he'd upset you. Something stupid about breaking up?"

Vague shadows of discomfort flashed through Arthur, a frustration he'd mostly moved on from. He did his best to ignore it, waving her concern away. "Don't worry about it."

"He was just jealous, you know." Her nails ran along the small of his back. "He wants Laura to look at him the way I look at you."

Arthur had spent so much of his life yearning for change, to understand his purpose in the world and improve himself. The idea that a man with a good education, a successful career, and no disabilities could ever be jealous of him was, frankly, bizarre. But he didn't correct Y/N, instead locking her praise within his heart, preserving it for when he needed it most. He boosted himself on his forearm and fiddled with her V-neck, traced its button loops as he slipped the plastic knobs through them. "And how's that?'

A hint of scandal glimmered in her irises. She arched into him as he eased a strap down her upper arm to reveal her shapely breast, the lilac fabric momentarily catching on its taut peak. "Like I can't get enough of you."

He huffed at that, fondled her faintly before his lips met the velvety skin of her chest. A tonic comprised of the musk oil she'd dabbed on before the party and distinct sexual wanting wafted to his nostrils. He licked at her nipple, the bumps on her areola, and drew it between his teeth. She whined softly and lifted the bottom of her nightdress to her waist.

Hurriedly, he yanked on the waistband of her cotton panties, pushed them past her knees. She kicked them off while he knelt to lower his bottoms. Straddling her, he pumped himself back to hardness and opened the drawer of her nightstand. He searched haphazardly until he retrieved a small, glass bottle of lubricant. (She'd ordered it from a mail catalog, both of them a bit too bashful to walk into an adult shop, even together.)

She snagged it from him and poured half a teaspoon in her hand, then palmed herself. He moved between her legs and she grasped his length, coating him with the warm, slippery liquid. He pushed forward into her. Gradually, slowly, savoring every millimeter of her enticing heat. He noted the stretch of her mouth, the jut of her jaw, the lifting of her upper lip. "Mmm..." she breathed and begged him to keep going. When he did, her head tilted back into the pillow, eyelids falling shut. A smile cut across her cheeks as she purred her satisfaction. "Arthur, I love you."

His touch wandered down the curve of her thigh. At the sight of her subtle writhing beneath him, the sway of her slightly uneven breasts in time with his languid thrusts, he pushed her knee into the mattress, splayed her wider. He grunted lowly. "Look at me."

Their gazes met but didn't hold for long; hers dropped to where they were joined. She caressed right above his pubic bone. "I love seeing you like this." Her fingertips walked a line up his sternum to his chest. "And touching you like this." She wrapped her arms around his middle and drew him to her, locked their lips in a greedy kiss. "And making love like this."

He snorted. "I think this is the only reason you married me."

"Well, not the only reason. There's your good hair, too."

"I've been thinking about cutting it. Trying something new."

"Don't you dare." She tugged at his loose curls, wore her best pout. "What else would I hold onto when we're doing this?"

Laughing lightly, he bumped his nose to hers. Falling into her was like falling into his old fantasies, the ones that'd sustained him through years of isolation. Dates at diners, at comedy clubs, at donut shops, at home. Their shapes had changed as he'd matured, his role in them, his aspirations and infatuations. But they'd remained a warm comfort nonetheless, a place that felt like belonging. And now he belonged with her. Hunger filled him. Happiness. And love. So much love, more than he'd ever believed he'd carried in him. He bucked a little harder. "You feel so good," he murmured. "You make me feel so good."

A strained cry left her and her pelvis answered his steady rhythm with demands of its own. Her calves rose to squeeze him closer, encircle his narrow hips. They were pressed together so tightly; it felt like they were one flesh. He never wanted it to stop. But a dizzying euphoria had ignited, one that eclipsed the romantic yearnings of his heart, twisting his desire to last all morning into the desperate drive to possess her. Gasping, Arthur raised himself to his knees, delving deeper with each push. Their foreheads met and he grit his teeth at the scald of her, the texture of her walls. She fit as though she'd been made for him.

He supposed she was.

Pressure began in the base of him, building and building in terrific torment. The muscles of his inner thighs contracted inward. Tingling climbed his shaft, his tailbone, his spine. He wove his fingers into the sheet, his grip a vise that wrested its corner from the mattress. She kissed the spot where his jaw met his neck, all the while murmuring encouragements for him to let himself go.

Bliss shot through him, from the tips of his toes to the follicles on his scalp, and his back stiffened as he whimpered and poured into. Fever engulfed his frame, sublime in its frenzy, leaving him in a heady stupor. Aftershocks made him tremble. Once, twice. Until, sated and spent, he landed on top her. He closed his eyes, ribs rising and falling as he forced air into his lungs.

A minute later, he swallowed and looked down at her. "You didn't come."

She carded through his sweaty locks. "It's all righ-"

"Shh." He slid out of her and settled at her side, reached between her legs to swipe at her core. "I'm not done," he declared, tracing the edges of her entrance, slick and swollen. One of his favorite things about getting her off was demonstrating his prowess in bed, how well he'd learned with her. His thumb met her plump clitoral hood, and he felt her throb beneath his ministrations.

Nails biting his bicep, she rocked upwards. A bewitching blush crept up her breast, her neck, spread across her cheeks. Shallow pants hit his face, short puffs suffused with high-pitched whines, utterly irresistible. He circled her nub at a steady cadence, tapping when she'd shiver, and she clasped the back of his hand. He swirled his tongue around her nipple, sucked the pretty peak, and lowered the other strap of her nightgown to bare her completely. A hushed plea fell from her lips. "Please, please..."

Suddenly, her vulva grew white hot and she seized, her hips stuttering with each flutter of his touch to her folds. She thrusts her breasts towards him, a sharp moan caught in her throat. Liquid pooled against his fingers, proof of her rapture that made him wish, with mild amusement, that he could be an unmedicated young man again. He would've gladly taken her a second time.

Giggling and rubbing her temple, she released a long exhale and opened her eyes. He brushed her hair back and grinned, completely smitten, like the first time he'd heard a joke and understood the punchline. The light brown picture frame on his nightstand caught his attention, and he regarded the wallet size photo in it, one of the shots of Y/N from the booth at Amusement Mile. The last thing he looked at before turning in each night. He lay his head her shoulder and hummed, listened to the drum of her heart.

She smooched his hairline and wriggled out from beneath him to stand. Her nightie had been reduced to a crumpled stripe of lilac cinched about her waist. It felt tawdry and shameless and he wanted to see her in it for the rest of the weekend. But she peeled it down her legs, wrinkling her nose when it got stuck on her thighs, and stepped out of it one foot at a time. She dropped it on the floral bedspread and retrieved her bathrobe from the closet. "Meet you in the kitchen," she said, opening the door.

The sun had risen higher, its beams slanting across the covers. He basked in it, catlike, then swung his legs over the side of the bed. He pulled on his pajamas, got a new pair of socks from their dresser, and made his way to the kitchen. He washed off the remnants of Y/N's arousal from his fingers, popped open a prescription bottle and took a tablet. He poured water into the coffeemaker, grabbed the can of grounds from the second shelf, added three scoops to the paper filter. Their three-tone brown mugs sat in their spot next to the machine, waiting to be filled.

When the glass coffeepot was half full, Y/N emerged from the bathroom, chuckling to herself. She opened the breadbox on the opposite counter and took out a wax paper bag. "Do you have any idea how dull this morning would have been if we'd never met? I'd have read the Sunday paper, had a drink. Probably worked on a file." He handed her a couple dessert plates, watched her put a donut on each one. "I wonder where you'd be. What woman you'd have breakfast with, what jokes you'd be writing, what magic tricks you'd have learned."

"Um..." At first he wanted to ask where this speculation had come from, if Matt had let her in on exactly what he'd said. But the confident slant of her smirk told Arthur she was teasing. He tried to play along but winced. No matter how appealing, how extraordinary she found him, his gut told him there wouldn't have been another woman. There'd be no more stand-up routines, no more Carnival. He certainly wouldn't be taking care of Penny. He'd likely be locked up in the hospital, maybe even dead. Without an anchor, his life would have lost what little sense it had.

Y/N was one of his anchors now, hooked into the sand alongside his material, treatment, the ability to pay bills. He seized her hand and squeezed it tight, unaware he was squishing her fingers. "I don't wanna think about it," he said quietly.

She sidled up to him and pulled him to her side. Rubbed his flank soothingly and pecked the corner of his mouth. "Don't worry." She took his chin and guided him to look at her. The intimate comfort of her smile helped him believe her next words, even before she spoke them. "I'll always be here."

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve @ithinkimaperson @sweet-nothings04 @stephieraptorr @rommies @fallenstarsabyss @gruffle1 @octopus-plasma @tsukiakarinobara @arthur-flecks-lovely-smile @another-day-in-chuckletown @hhandley80 @jokerownsmysoul @fakestreet @ralugraphics @iartsometimes

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck smut #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x female reader #arthur fleck x ofc #joker 2019 #watchwhathappens

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peakywitch · 4 years ago

Text

Little Hands - Michael Gray

PART ONE

MASTERLIST

WORD COUNT: 2K

warnings: none (i think this one has angst?)

gif: @oberelias

A knock on the bar door caught Harry's attention. He immediately knew who it was. He opened the door, seeing the young woman from a half hour ago.

"Y/N?" he asked, not understanding anything. A girl of about 17 years, crying at the door of the Garrison. Harry thought he would never see such a thing.

"Sorry Harry, I had nowhere to go..." she sobbed; Harry invited her in and poured her a glass of water as she sat down at the bar.

“Are you better?" he asked her, after a few minutes.

The girl had been staring at the glass of water since Harry had offered it to her. The silent tears kept falling from her eyes. What will I do now? She would go home alone. She would forget about being a teacher and would have to dedicate herself to whatever she could, so her son would have something to eat.

Her son.

Y/N still didn't get it. She was seventeen, a minor, and her ex-boyfriend had just left her. She could not abort, she had found out too late.

"What the fuck am I going to do..." she whispered, asking Harry.

"You in trouble?" he asked, worried that she was hurt.

"Yes, in a giant problem." She replied, drinking more water.

“I think whatever it is, you can work it out. If you have people who want you by your side, you'll be fine." He said, as he rearranged the liquor bottles.

“The person I love doesn't want to be with me, Harry. He said horrible things to me and I…”The poor girl bursted into tears, Harry felt so out of place.

The man, not knowing what to do, approached the small kitchen that was at the back of the bar and took out some pieces of brownie that were carefully protected. When he returned to her side, he opened the noisy bag, filling the Garrison with a strong chocolate smell.

"You know?" he asked “My mother was a baker, and she made the best cakes in town. She made these brownies when I was sad or had a broken heart." He smiled wistfully; Y/N's red eyes focused on him “Last night, I felt a heavy sadness. And all I could think of was brownies." He placed the two brown squares on a gray plate. "I firmly believe, these brownies will heal you a bit." He held out the plate to the crying girl, she tried to grab one "Wait, not yet."

He reached under the bar, pulling out a glass bottle of milk: “There is a kitten that had a baby, and in the morning when I am leaving, I serve her some on a plate outside. But a broken heart deserves a sip to accompany brownies. "

She poured the milk into a pint, and told her she could eat now.

Between brownies, laughter, and some milk, she was able to stop crying and laughed at some stories Harry was telling her.

When night fell, Y/N stayed in one of the rooms upstairs. Harry had offered it to her for free, as Y/N had been very good company while he set up the pub for that Friday night. However, she insisted that she would return the favor by cleaning up on Saturday morning with him. Also, she wanted to see the kitten and her baby.

Ten o'clock at night showed up on the clock, telling Y/N that in two hours this hellish day would end. She was lying with her dress still on. The poor deluded woman had thought she would return home with… Michael. The more she thought about the subject, the more her heart ached.

“I won’t be with you, get rid of him. It would be easier. "

It was final: she would be a single mother.

Michael entered the pub at ten o'clock, tired, nervous, angry, sad, helpless, and heartbroken. He was disappointed in who he was. He had been infuriated by the fact that this new person that he was, had hurt Y/N. Michael could be called Henry, Benjamin, Patrick, or Mirtha. It didn't matter his name, he loved Y/N. So when he walked into the private booth at the Garrison alone, Tommy knew why. How was he going to find her, if she was as far as she was near?

"I thought I told you not to come back if it wasn't with her, Michael." said his cousin.

Gray sat down dejectedly in one of the chairs. He snorted and poured himself a whiskey.

“Looked everywhere. Shit, I even walked into that disgusting station with idiot Campbell. I looked in every square, on the outskirts, I asked in each hostel: nothing. I know her, she got on the train hours ago and she must be in her bed crying." His gaze was so lost on the beer bucket on the table, that he did not notice the knowing looks of his cousins.

“Tom,” said Arthur “go on. Tell ‘im. Look at ‘im.”

John slipped a chuckle.

"Tell me what?" Michael asked, looking at Thomas. "Tommy, if you know something, please tell me ..."

"Michael," tommy cleared his throat, "you well know that nothing happens here without me knowing."

"Here? Small Heath? As I said, I don't think…” the Shelby interrupted his cousin.

“No, here like the Garrison. And I think you forgot that if you go upstairs, you will find a lodging that I mount..."

Michael didn't let him finish, cutting him off as he stood up abruptly.

"You knew all this damn time where she was!?" he roared.

"I have known for a few hours." he answered calmly, after drinking more Scotch.

Before Michael could say anything, Tommy spoke again: "Third door to your right."

And just like that, Michael came out of the booth like a bullet. He crossed the bar quickly, no matter who he shoved in his way. The stairs were climbed even faster, leaving him in a matter of seconds in front of Y/N's door.

He breathed. He realized how nervous Y/N must have been. He knocked on the door with a simple double knock.

Both knocks woke her up, bringing her back into the world. She stopped and approached the door carefully. Meanwhile, Michael was dying of nerves.

"Who is it?" Y/N asked.

"Me." Michael said.

"Who is Me?" she ask.

Y/N recognized that voice, of course she did. But she didn't know who the person with the voice was. She felt totally alien to this Michael Gray. Henry would never, ever have yelled at her.

"Y/N... lovey, please..." he begged.

"Do not call me that way. You don't feel that about me. Neither do I, I don't know you. "

Y/N was being too harsh for her liking, but Michael knew perfectly well that he deserved never to see her again.

“Y/N, I need to talk to you. Please…”he asked, he was about to cry.

"No. Goodbye." She sentenced.

Michael sighed in frustration. He sat in the doorway; he would sleep on the floor if necessary.

Now what can I do? If he opened the door, it would bother her even more. But if he left her alone, he would lose her forever.

"Y/N..." began the boy, and waited for an answer, nothing.

"Do you want me to leave you alone?" he asked again.

Silence.

"Well, here goes nothing." He sighed.

“Hello Y/N, my name is Michael Gray. I was born in 1903, and when I was four years old my father passed away. I was taken away from my mother, Polly, when I was five. I had a sister, they also separated us. The government changed my name to Henry. I was in an orphanage for about three years, until the Johnson, a very nice couple, adopted me. I grew up in the suburbs in a beautiful house with an apple tree in the garden. I met my first friend, she had your name, you know? "

Y/N was sitting on the other side of the door, listening to her favorite person speak. When she hear herself in the story, she smiled through tears.

“When she asked me to play family, I always pretended to propose to her. I never knew why. After a while I realized: the girls did not have germs. Then she started to seem like the prettiest girl, then the most beautiful young woman. I was in love with her for several years, I realized late. But one day..." Michael smiled wistfully" One day I plucked up the courage... a year ago and something, maybe. And I told her everything that happened to me with her. She kissed me and we started dating. She would come to my house after school. We would eat apples from the tree and study a little. And then we’d kiss a lot in the neighbor's barn at night. "

Y / N gave a little laugh, and that triggered Michael's pulse.

“Then I reconnected with my family, with the Shelbys. And I was so mad at the Johnsons for keeping my true story from me… they had told me, they’d abandoned me. When Tommy told me the truth, I was blinded by the pain of the lie and the thrill of finding my family. I did not realize that by meeting my old family, I would be abandoning one that was beginning to grow, you know?" They both wiped away tears.

“So, my girlfriend, she came to my homwtown angry, alone and pregnant. She was super, super angry and sad. And she told me everything, and I never felt worse. For having abandoned her, for seeing her cry about it and for abandoning her again when she told me she was pregnant. So..." he sighed "I am this, a simple stranger, who tells the story of his life, to the love of his life. Hoping that she forgives him. Because, you know, I know she knows I'm a bloody idiot. I mean, when we kissed for the first time, I accidentally bit her lip and left a small scar. "

They both laughed, listening to each other and wiping their tears.

“So…yeah. If you ever see her, tell her that for me, I know she doesn’t want to see me.” Michael said, with remarkable sadness.

Y/N wiped away her tears and gently pulled her hair. She stand up and knocked on the door three times. She then heard Michael stand up quickly.

"Who is this?" Michael asked.

"My name is Y/N, can I come into your life... again?" she asked, crying.

Michael's heart began to skip multiple beats and his smile spread across his face. He opened the door and saw his girlfriend standing, tired and crying. When their eyes connected, both bodies exploded into a loving embrace. They were both crying, they missed each other.

"I’m so sorry Y / N, so, so, so, sorry..." he stroked her hair.

"I love you, Michael Gray. But the next time you leave without saying goodbye, I will kill you with my bare hands. "

"Your hands are little, lovey, you can’t." She laughed, while Michael was filling her face with kisses.

"So, wait to see what a woman with little hands does to you at three in the morning when you don't want to take care of your baby."

Michael stopped the kisses and looked into her eyes.

"For a moment I had forgotten." Laughed Michael.

"Oh my God." Y/N joined in on her boyfriend's laughter.

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amysteryspot · 5 years ago

Text

Better With You - Thomas Shelby x Female Reader

Request: If you can could you please do one about Tommy having a sort of possessive claim over you (not in an abusive way of course) even though you’ve never looked at him in that way, and when Michael comes into the family again you two get close, which makes Tommy extremely jealous.

Requested by: Anonymous

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Female Reader

Summary: Thomas has known (Y/N) for all of her life and loved her for most part of his, always disguising his claim on her as friendly protectiveness. What happens when Michael makes his way back into the family and starts to get a little too close to her for Tommy’s liking?

Warnings: swearing, mentions of war, mild smut (?).

Word Count: 3526

A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this. Hope you all have fun reading it too. An especial thank to @the-friendly-editor for helping me edit this, it meant a lot to me. Tags are at the end of the post, if you want to be add send me a message. I would love to hear what you think of it, your feedback is always appreciated.

Things you should consider before reading this:

1. I named the Shelby’s mother Anastasia because I felt like I needed to do that. Also, I know that there is a lot of discussion about Finn and the rest of the Shelbys having the same mother or not. I just assumed that they all have the same mother and she died a little after giving birth to Finn. It is not something groundbreaking for the fic but I wanted to clarify just in case.

2. The boys went to war right at the beginning of it; I just ignored the information given to us by “The Ballad of Tommy Shelby”.

3. I probably forgot to warn you about something, I’m sorry.

(Y/N) = Your Name | (Y/N/N) = Your Nickname | (Y/L/N) = Your Last Name | (Y/E/C) = Your Eye Color

If you asked Tommy how long he had known (Y/N) (Y/L/N), he wouldn’t know how to answer—fuck, it seemed like the woman had been in his life forever.

He remembered the day his mother had brought him to the (Y/L/N)’s house for them to meet the new baby. Four-year-old Tommy had complained all the way to their neighbor’s house, much to his older brother’s amusement, until their mother had given him a scolding. (Y/N)’s birth had been the talk of Watery Lane. They finally had a sweet little girl for the neighborhood to dote on.

With two sons, Anastasia was more than happy to welcome the little girl into their lives, not so secretly longing to have a daughter, and that was the reason for Tommy to be fussing over going to see the newborn—jealousy.

However, nothing could have prepared little Tommy for what was about to happen when his mother sat him down on the couch and Mrs. (Y/L/N) put the bundle of covers in his arms—his icy blue eyes stared down at baby (Y/N), who stopped crying instantly when she looked up at him with bright (Y/E/C) eyes of her own. From that moment on, Tommy knew that he would always love her.

And love her he did, since that day and throughout all of their lives. He would raise hell at home for his mother to bring him to the (Y/L/N)’s home so he could see (Y/N), and the three adults would all be astonished at how easily the baby would stop crying when she was in his arms. It wasn’t really a surprise that the first word she babbled was “Tom” or that when she started walking, on wobbly feet, it was Tommy she was seeking.

As they grew up, they grew closer, until it became almost impossible to have one without the other. When Ada was born, Tommy was worried about the possibility that (Y/N) would forget about him, that she would be too enchanted by having another girl around. Instead, as the time passed, he discovered that his little sister was one more reason for (Y/N) to spend more time at the Shelby home.

Even when he started messing around with the boys on the street, and she befriended other girls at school, they would still seek each other out whenever they could. They stuck together when their teenage years came, when Tommy started fooling around with girls from school and secretly scaring down most of the boys that showed any interest in (Y/N).

At least, he did until the day she came crying to him about not being good enough or pretty enough for anybody, not like the girls he would go out with, and breaking his heart; that certainly wasn’t what he had in mind when chasing down the boys. All he had wanted was to protect her, to make sure that she wouldn’t exchange him for some other boy. He wanted to ensure that she was his and his only.

That was actually the reason that led to their first kiss—her first kiss—(Y/N/N) had asked him, pleaded with him, through all the tears to just kiss her and get it done. Fifteen-year-old (Y/N) was sure that nobody would ever want her, and she wanted to experience it at least once. She told Tommy he was the only one she trusted with the task.

“It will mean nothing to you, Tom. You have kissed a million other girls already—I will just be another one for you—but it’s important to me. Please, Tom? Please, please.”

Her pleas had won him over, but (Y/N)’s words couldn’t have been further from the truth—the kiss had meant something for him. It had meant more than he predicted when he gave in to her begging, because the moment their lips touched, Tommy realized he was in love with his best friend and the worst part was that she didn’t had a fucking clue about it.

Then Tommy did what he did best; he pretended that it never happened, pushing it away and never talking to anyone about the kiss or his feelings. He stopped chasing down the boys who would show interest in (Y/N) and watched as she eventually started going out with some of them, laughing with him about how stupid she was to think that no one would ever like her.

When her first boyfriend got too handsy and she broke up with him—not before giving him a good left hook that left him with a very black eye, just like Tommy had taught her—(Y/N) had gone straight to the Shelby home, looking for comfort in his arms. Tommy pretended that the gnawing feeling in his chest was nothing but brotherly protectiveness instead of anger, jealousy and possessiveness—a destructive combination, especially on a Shelby boy.

(Y/N) had stayed with him that night, and the both of them slept together like they used to when they were kids. First thing in the morning the next day, right after he left her at her own house, he found her now ex-boyfriend and beat him up. Arthur and Freddie had to get him off of the guy, afraid of what he would end up doing if they didn’t stop him.

After that, Tommy had focused on channeling his frustrations into going out with every girl in town that wasn’t her. It wasn’t difficult, he was good looking and charming and he was very aware of it; that’s how he met Greta, and thought that he could get over his feelings for his best friend with her.

Greta’s parents were against their involvement at first, but he charmed them, so they started dating. His heart broke down when (Y/N) found out and showed genuine happiness for him having finally found somebody to settle down with.

Tommy’s plan was to end things between them. However, Greta fell ill and he didn’t have the heart to break up with her, so he stayed by her side until she passed. (Y/N) gave him support in the only way she knew how: by loving him.

Just not in the way he wanted her to.

When they thought that things would go back to normal, the War exploded and Tommy did the only thing he considered right in his eyes: he enlisted alongside his brothers. Their first fight had taken place on the night he told her he was leaving for France in two weeks. (Y/N) had hit and screamed at him until he was able to take a hold on her and then, then she cried in his arms the whole night, afraid that she would lose him forever.

They did the best they could with those two weeks. Once more, nothing could have prepared Tommy for (Y/N)’s appeal the night before he was shipping to France. She had come to him right after dinner. Her father was preparing himself to leave, too, and both of the (Y/L/N) women were enjoying whatever time they had left with him before he was gone.

As they both laid there in his bed, resting in each other’s arms and staring at the ceiling, (Y/N) made the decision that would seal his fate if he could survive the war.

“Make love to me.”

It wasn’t a question, nor a request—she was simply telling him to make love to her like this was the most logical thing in the world. His breath caught in his throat, preventing him from answering at first, and (Y/N/N) took that as a cue to reassure him.

“It will be like my first kiss, Tommy, just something I have to get over with. I want it to be you. I trust you. Let me give you at least one last good memory of me before you go.”

Again, he caved in, not needing much more convincing than the certainty in her eyes as she looked down at him, propped up on one elbow. Her hand rested unintentionally above his heart. Granting her wishes, he let himself dive into his own desires, touching her the way he had wanted since they had kissed for the first time.

He worked her body like a delicate instrument and pulled at her strings smoothly, engraving every beautiful sound that he coaxed out of her and the feel of her under his fingertips in his memory. When morning came, they were still a mess of limbs intertwined together, trying to hold on to a last thread of hope and imprint the last few hours on their memories.

In a way, (Y/N) was right. The boy that entered that train in 1914 wasn’t the same that got out of it in 1918. Yet, his love for her never faltered; it just became a tad more… dangerous.

Thomas lost count of how many letters they had exchanged during the past four years. He lost count of how many times he dreamt of her, of coming back home and telling her how he felt. However, any courage he had gathered vanished the moment he saw her waiting for him at the train station. He couldn’t condemn her to a life by his side, he had already taken enough from her.

Polly had told him in her letters how (Y/N/N) had helped her with the business, with the house, with Finn, and with any other thing she could. Especially after her mother, who had given up on life after Mr. (Y/L/N) was killed in combat, passed. A part of him felt guilty for not being there for her as much as she was for him when his mother passed and his father left.

“She’s a Shelby now.”

That’s what Polly had said when he asked her if (Y/N) had any remaining family.

Not much changed when they returned. (Y/N/N) still worked with them. She spent more time at the Shelby home and the gambling den than at her own place. The two of them still sought each other out, not talking much, but enjoying each other’s company. It was in those quiet moments with her that Tommy had a little peace.

Thomas drowned himself in work to forget it all, wanting to expand the business, unleashing his ambitions so long smothered by the war. They found the guns, in a strike of luck, he thought. Both Polly and (Y/N) advised him to let it go, but he just couldn’t. It was too good of an opportunity.

Campbell had come because of it, and with him, Grace. At the time, he didn’t know who she really was. He thought that the beautiful, blonde barmaid was just that: beautiful and innocent, everything he and his family were not. So he fooled himself, fell for her, and then she betrayed him and left for America.

Again, (Y/N) was there for him, and again, he found himself sinking into his love for her. The only good thing that came from all this mess was that the business was never better. He thought that it was time to start planning for an expansion, and with that came another thing that he hadn’t quite predicted—Michael.

He had planned to find Polly’s children for her. She had been suffering quite a lot lately. Even if people thought that his heart was as good as gone, he wanted his family to be okay. He wanted them to be happy.

Thomas found the boy and he came to Polly, making his way into the family and the business quickly. That included starting to get close to (Y/N) – too fucking close for his liking.

It was supposed to be natural, he knew that. (Y/N) kept the books at the shop. She was better with numbers than most of them, so it was natural that she would be the one to help Michael when he assumed the position of accounts clerk.

After they came back, he learned that (Y/N) had become very good at sneaking around without getting caught. It was rare to see her with any men whose last name wasn’t Shelby, or wasn’t closely related to the Peaky Blinders. That didn’t mean she didn’t have men swooning over her all the time, or that he was finally okay with that—much like when they were teenagers, he wanted to chase them all down—the only difference was now he was more deadly.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.”

It was Michael’s voice that brought him back to reality, and his gaze fell immediately on the boy. They were all gathered on the snug in the Garrison. (Y/N) was sitting between him and Michael, Tommy’s arm casually rested on her shoulders.

(Y/N) said, “Oh, no, you would totally get it... after a few more weeks.”

Everyone burst out laughing at her remark, but the only thing he could think about was the hand Michael rested on (Y/N)’s thigh. His own hand clenched around his glass before he downed the rest of its contents.

He didn’t notice Polly’s gaze on him. Despite what most people believed, Tommy had never been a good liar. He could get away with omitting information to people and redirecting the conversation, most of the time, but a direct confrontation was a completely different thing. Polly was always able to read him first, to know the things he wasn’t willing to share.

“Maybe we should just hire you instead of Michael, then.” He ignored the look (Y/N) gave him, taking another drag of his cigarette and looking away.

However, he couldn’t miss the lingering touches, or how (Y/N/N) leaned into Michael when he talked to her, and how she was just so comfortable with him. It made his blood boil.

When (Y/N/N) said she wanted to get home he offered to walk her, and was fairly surprised at how she didn’t say a word to him until they reached her front door.

Then she turned to face him, features painted with anger, and asked, “What the hell was that, Tom?”

He actually rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

(Y/N) huffed, turning around to unlock the door before entering the house, leaving it open for him to follow. She went straight to the dressing room, shedding her coat and throwing it at the table with her purse as he followed her closely.

“Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

She was taking her shoes off, and Tommy took advantage of the moment to let his eyes follow her movements. God, was he in love with that woman.

“I’m talking about your attitude with Michael at the Garrison. That was completely unnecessary,” She said.

“Someone had to put that boy in his place,” Tommy said.

(Y/N) turned to him then, and he would be worried with that look if he hadn’t been at the receiving end of her anger for so many years.

“Oh, please enlighten me, Thomas. What is his place?” (Y/N) asked.

“For fucks sake, (Y/N/N), he was all over you!”

She rolled her eyes. “He is a boy, Thomas, a boy. He’s family…”

Tommy never thought that what would make him snap would be hearing her say that Michael was family, but apparently it was.

“He’s family, huh?” Thomas said. “He is fucking family! Then he should know better and stay away from you.”

She stared at him for a moment, brow furrowed, as she seemed to put the puzzle together in her head. “Why would he stay away from me, Tom?”

He turned around to face away from her for a moment, rubbing a hand over his face. “No, no. You won’t make me feel guilty for that.”

“Make you feel guilty for what, Tommy?”

He recognized the hint of annoyance on her tone and couldn’t ignore it anymore, the alcohol giving him the courage that he had lost that day on the train station, as he turned around and shouted, “For loving you!”

She held her breath, eyes widening as she stared back at him.

Tommy continued, “Michael should stay away from you because you’re fucking mine and I love you.”

“Tommy, I’m not your property, and you know that I love you…”

“No, you don’t,” he interrupted her, making her look at him with confusion, “You don’t love me the way I love you. The way I’ve loved you since the fucking day you asked me to kiss you when you were fifteen!”

He saw her flinch before murmuring his name, trying to gain his attention but he couldn’t stop now. The truth was finally out there and he just had to go on with it, let it all out before he lost his mind.

“You said to me that it would mean nothing, that it would be just another kiss for me, but you were wrong,” Tommy said, his breaths short.

She looked bewildered, and Tommy held onto a strand of hope he didn’t even know still existed.

“That kiss meant fucking everything. From that day on, I’ve never seen you in the same way as before, because I realized I was in love with you and you didn’t feel the same. So I ignored these feelings while I saw you going out with boys, and I’ve thrown myself into fucking every girl that wasn’t you because I knew I couldn’t have you, not the way I wanted.”

Tommy didn’t notice that he was walking to her until they were just a breath apart.

“Then I found Greta, and I thought that I could forget you, but it only reminded me that you are the only one I want. I was going to break up with her, but she fell ill. You stayed by my side, and just when I thought that I would have a chance to tell you everything, the war happened and I just couldn’t. I couldn’t, because there was no way in hell that I was going to risk going to fight in France and die. I couldn’t leave you here to suffer because of me, either because you felt the same or not.”

“Tommy…” (Y/N)’s voice was all but a whisper.

He couldn’t resist anymore, his hands brought her to him, his eyes observing hers from up close, not giving her time to talk or he would lose his courage.

“I was ready to go there and die, and never let you know how I felt. But you had to give me hope that night before I was shipped off to that fucking hell. You had to…”He took a deep breath, his eyes closing for a brief second, a flood of memories making his heart race faster. “You had to give yourself to me. You had to give me a taste of what I thought I could never have, to make me want to survive the fucking war, to come back to you, and to let you know about all of these stupid feelings.”

Tommy couldn’t wait anymore. He did the one thing he had wanted to since he had returned from France—he kissed her. It wasn’t gentle or patient; no, it was urgent and filled with passion and he didn’t know how to stop, not when she wasn’t pushing him away. He devoured her as a man starved, teeth clashing and hands grabbing at anything they could touch. They were both out of breath when they finally parted.

“You said that you wanted to give me one last good memory and it was that memory that kept me alive during most of the nights when I was stuck in the fucking mud,” Thomas said.

(Y/N)’s fingers were clinging to him like her life depended on it, like she was afraid to lose him to the War again.

Tommy took the moment to let the words spill out. “The memory of you and the feeling of you under my fingers, and all around me, and the way you tasted.”

His lips brushed against hers, fingers clawing at the flesh of her hips like they had done the night before he left for France.

He backed her up against the wall, hands trailing down to the back of her thighs, picking her up and trapping her with his body.

Tommy looked straight to her eyes as he spoke again, “How you writhed under me, all the beautiful sounds you made, and I just wanted to come back to you and make some new memories.”

(Y/N) shivered at his words. She gave him just a brief second to observe the rise and fall of her chest and her expanded pupils before he felt her fingers at the back of his head, forcing him to really look at her as she said, “Then let’s work on those new memories.”

Their lips clashed again, and every doubt that he ever felt vanished for a moment. That night their bodies moved together like old acquaintances, skin sliding against skin, hands gripping at each other, lips kissing every patch of skin while chanting a sinful choir of moans and curses alongside their names.

When Tommy woke up the next day, (Y/N/N) in his arms, he realized that he was finally home.

Taglist: @captivatedbycillianmurphy, @internalmess3

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theexecutionerssong · 5 years ago

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SKAM FRANCE BTS MASTERPOST

This is a master post of BTS anecdotes told in interviews, at cons, screenings and on social media. Don’t click the read more if you don’t want to lose some of the magic. I know sometimes knowing too much of how a show was shot can ruin it. Also, it’s very obvious that there was more promo starting around season 3 than for the first two seasons, don’t hold it against me. Feel free to message me if you think of something else as I must have forgotten a ton of things.

CASTING, REHEARSALS, BTS IN GENERAL

Skam France had the rights for the 4 seasons first but had to follow the original script almost to a T for the first 2 and if the audience was big enough then they would be allowed to distance themselves from OG

Skam France casted actors that were as close personality wise to their characters as possible, which made it easier for the cast to identify with their characters and made the friendships developping between the characters more believable since it was also developping off screen

They were not allowed to cast underaged actors who would have been closer to the real age of the characters due to the long hours of the shooting conditions

Most of the actors come from theatre and many had no or little previous experience with shooting for a camera before

The cast isn’t allowed to watch the clips before they air.

Most of the clothes they wear in the show are their own.

During rehearsals of the first seasons, Philippine went to the board with everyone’s names on it and wrote something funny next to Zoe’s name and wanted to send it to her but she messed up and published it on her ig stories, leaking the entire cast when it was still supposed to be a secret.

Lula’s first reaction when she got the script and “met” Daphné was “oh no I’m scared. I just want to slap her, she’s insufferable”

Assa almost didn’t audition for two reasons: the casting call didn’t specify they were looking for a woman of color and French casting calls almost always say whether they are specifically looking for a black woman. If it says nothing then they are usually looking for a white person. She thought she had no chance because of that. Second reason, after accepting the casting call, she did some research and found out OG Sana was from the Maghreb and she’s not. But her agent convinced her to go through with it, the only thing the skam france team wouldn’t negotiate was that they wanted a Muslim actress. There was no way they would have casted a non muslim actress/actor for Imane and Sofiane.

Skam France was the first TV show on French TV to have a black muslim woman wearing a hijab as a main character

Paul, Robin and Axel knew each other before shooting, they’d met in Avignon.

Coline was still in her last year of high school when she shot the first two seasons.

Niels is the one who came up with a raccoon as Eliott’s spirit animal

They shoot about 15 minutes of usable content per day which is impressive (it’s usually 2-3 for movies released in theatres, 5-7 for TV programs)

When France TV told David the first two seasons were a success and they were renewing the show, he gave them a list of things he wanted to change so that he’d agree to come back to direct the next seasons, including a different camera, renewing the writers team (they included Niels), storylines, the ig content, etc. The new camera they got was a SONY Venice which allows them to play a lot with the focus/blur ratio and the cold and warm undertones, which made a major shift in the visual quality of seasons 3 and 4 compared to the previous 2.

David named Eliott after his son.

Having the teaser from Eliott’s POV was David’s idea. It’s the first remake to have a clip from the French Even’s POV

The bus stop from season 3 is fake, it doesn’t exist. It wasn’t even shot in Paris itself but in Saint Ouen.

Maxence didn’t watch OG - besides the towels in the bathroom clip - because he wanted to create his own Eliott without being too influenced, and he didn’t watch s1 and 2 of skam france either because he wanted Eliott to discover the characters without knowing their backgrounds.

Maxence wasn’t supposed to audition. He wanted to be done with his acting school before shooting anything but the head of the casting team came to watch a public class at his school and asked him to audition for Eliott at the end. David and Niels knew right away he was the one. Niels watched the audition tapes and was very impressed with another actor but within the first 3 seconds of watching Maxence, he knew it wouldn’t be anyone else. Maxence met Axel after the 3rd call back and they clicked right away. He’d broken his foot two days earlier so he was in crutches. They watched Even’s manic episode and had to improvise a similar scene but had to do with the crutches. They also went for a drink before shooting and they talked for hours, their connection was instantaneous.

When he learned Maxence was cast, Axel went on his instagram and saw the model pictures and thought he was way too hot with the abs and everything and he himself would look like a potato during the nude scenes next to him. So he got a coach and for 3 months he trained and got on a very strict diet. He was disappointed that there were no shots where you could actually see his abs properly in Skam. He had also said months before that he had gotten a coach because before they started shooting seasons 3 and 4, he had met up with Marilyn to get advice on how to carry a season and she had told him to get a coach otherwise he wouldn’t be able to keep up with the pace. So what is the truth?

It leaked that Maxence was casted in July 2018 because someone on a Korean website recognized his shoes in an IG story from when he’d been spotted at the airport months earlier but it was kept mostly under wraps. Then his and Lais’s names leaked too a couple of months later but most people hadn’t seen his face before the trailer.

David asked Axel and Maxence to give up their phones and social media during the couple of months they were shooting to be really focused and not get distracted by the outside world and they mostly did. Axel bought an mp3 to still have music, he wrote “LUCAS ♥” on it with a white out pen. He created a playlist for Lucas, including songs like Run Boy Run and I love you by Woodkid, and To Build a Home by the Cinematic Orchestra.

Maxence’s process to get ready for a shot: he does yoga and dances a lot in the morning. he puts music on and paces a room while picturing himself standing on the edge of a cliff and if at some point he feels like falling and loses his balance, it means he’s got it. He asks that all the scripts he gets be printed on the right side of the page and on the left he takes notes about what the character is feeling through 7 different states: love, hate, fear, power, vulnerability, sex and i hate myself for not remembering the last one. To play a scene properly, you have to conjure up 4 states to create one emotion. He loves that David respects his method and is able to adapt to every member of the cast’s method. He also uses his body as a tool, for example if his character has to feel lonely or unsure, he will curl up into a ball for an hour without moving and then he’ll be in the right mindset because his body is telling him he’s isolated. That’s the method he used for Eliott, he created “lost scenes” that weren’t in the script, moments in between scenes with Lucas, to get more into Eliott’s mindset.

Maxence wrote a letter to Eliott, drew a picture of him, and spent hours adding notes to the script about his personality before even trying to get into his mind.

There was a contest for the drawings in season 3. Maxence participated but didn’t get picked. Jeanne Lelièvre did!

All the social media content for seasons 3 and 4 were shot on the same day in December 2018 which is why you can see heavy winter clothing even when the content was published in May. For season 3, most ideas were Axel’s, and Maxence said no to 90%.

While shooting for seasons 3 and 4, Axel was also on stage every night for theatre

To prepare for his role in s3, Axel watched CMBYN, Moonlight, and The Office

They received more feedbacks from international fans than French ones at first. It was even a private joke between Niels and David, there were no comments in French on Youtube. Then the piano clip happened and David’s phone went crazy with notifications. He was in the editing room with Jérémy and the buzzing from his phone was non stop. They banned phones in the editing room after that.

Skam France owes part of its popularity to how accessible the cast and crew are, either on social media or IRL, with 6 entirely free events organized to get the fans and the cast and crew to meet, watch episodes together and have Q&As during seasons 3 and 4.

Skam France shooting locations have become extremely popular for the fans to hang out at and leave little mementos, to the point that the mayor of Paris has asked the team to pick completely untraceable locations, or make sure they are not in Paris itself for the next seasons

Skam France was the first remake to get renewed for 2 (possibly 4?) original seasons

Alexia and Daphné were supposed to have their own seasons they but couldn’t get the green light from Norway. He got the idea for Arthur’s story quite quickly after but they had to rework the scripts for seasons 5 and 6 a lot. Robin talked to David about his addiction to video games and how it could be a potential theme but in the end David chose deafness instead.

SEASONS 1 AND 2

It was Coline’s idea to make Alexia bi. There was a scene when Alexia mentions an ex boyfriend and she asked David “why wouldn’t it be a girl?” and his only reaction was “Ok. What’s her name?” and that’s how bi!Alexia was born.

It was also Coline’s idea to give Alexia’s colorful hair. She later regretted it because she had to bleach her hair twice to get the blue to stay and it fried her hair.

Assa’s worst memory of shooting s1 and 2 is when the girls have to carry Daphné, she kept dropping her and was afraid of hurting her.

Marilyn and Lula ruined the scene when the girls are having breakfast all together when they are on the countryside because they couldn’t stop laughing over carrots and the crunchy noise it was making. It was the last day of shooting and their nerves were all over the place.

SEASON 3

The first scene in the common room didn’t hit them that much, they didn’t realize the impact it would have because the whole shooting was just David yelling at them to look at each other then stop then do it again then stop etc

Nobody realized how big of an impact the “Moi c’est Eliott” line would have and then when they watched the clip, it was obvious.

The check de gang wasn’t scripted, it was Paul’s idea to make it a running gag. David wasn’t sure about it but after doing it just once, he was sold. Basile tripping over the bench was also Paul’s idea but he didn’t warn anyone he was doing it so Xavier started laughing and the camera was shaking so bad that they couldn’t keep it and had to reshoot the scene. They noticed during the editing process that Robin also tripped at the same time in the background during one take so they had to keep that one.

Lucas playing the piano was Axel’s idea even though he didn’t know how to play properly. He sent a text to David at the end of June with different ideas for songs and David picked the most difficult one. He then practiced anytime he could until they shot the scene in october. It took him two months to learn it completely and then a little more to make it look easy. (Niels later said it was his idea and that Axel was a cheeky little shit). Maxence had never heard Axel play the song before that moment so Eliott’s reaction is genuine. He didn’t think he’d manage to get in the right state of mind because the apartment was too small for the whole team and they were all very cranky, it was 3 am, but the moment he heard the first notes, he forgot all about it and was completely amazed.

The infiltration party: David asked that Basile pushes Daphné a bit, like shoves her out of the way when they have to run, but they hadn’t had the time to rehearse anything. After a couple of takes, Paul pushed Lula a bit too hard and she fell on her knees quite hard. He felt so bad because he never wanted to hurt her and they all had to take a half an hour break because her knees hurt. David after that was like OKAY NO MORE STUNTS EVER.

Axel got mad at the makeup department because the two lines on his face were not on the same place when they shot the outside scene and then once inside. He got so angry he could have cried that they wouldn’t believe him. So during the shooting he looked straight at the camera and wiped them away with the back of his hand to force them to draw the lines properly.

The first kiss scene: they had been shooting for 12 hours. It was raining intermittently all day so the team had to pack up the cameras often and wait it out when it was too much. They ran 4 hours late. They had a fake rain machine but no change of clothes so they could only shoot once. Below the bridge is not easily accessible, it’s a long path from the gate, so they used ropes to get things up and down from the bridge. They only had one shot. They had already shot kissing scenes but David was always telling them it had to be more passionate and kept yelling at them to use more tongue so for that shot they gave it their everything on the first (and only) take they did. 5 minutes later they were shooting the Remember scene.

They shot all the scenes in the colloc on the first week of shooting. Minute by minute was shot right before Samedi 9h17. They had to restart shooting samedi 9h17 four times because something wasn’t working between Axel and Maxence, they were clumsy and stressed. After taking 5 minutes to themselves with David to remind themselves of how pivotal the scene was, Axel and Maxence said they were ready and they shot the opening scene that made the cut.

The Phase de latence clip : Axel and Maxence felt like terrible actors because they had already shot all the big very emotional scenes and this was a bit tamer since Eliott doesn’t show much emotions. They felt that way about all the scenes shot in the school.

The Fête de trop clip: They shot the fight with the guys 8 times but it wasn’t enough for David until Robin slapped Axel on the 9th. After that they shot Chloé yelling at Lucas. Axel was still out of it due to the slap he’d gotten earlier that he hadn’t expected. At 3am, they finished with Lucas injuring his hands. Axel cracked the metacarpus in his hand and only told David two days later.

Leo has talked about the coming out bench scene and said Yann took it a bit too far and was too dramatic, he was like “i don’t know if i can say that… but c’mon… I mean. C’mon… that’s your best friend… who cares if he didn’t tell you right away, he had bigger problems on his mind, right?”He would have done it differently.

The “viens on n’en parle pas” scene was shot in 50 minutes in the middle of the night on the second day of shooting. Marilyn and Axel’s emotions were briming under the surface so it was one of the easiest scene to shoot.

The hardest scene to shoot for David in s3 was the intervention clip. It was the second day of shooting, the 4th clip of the day. Axel’s first take was not good enough and David was scared it would set the tone for the season. He had a stern talk with Axel. Thankfully, they shot a second time and it was the right one, everyone on set was crying and Axel was completely drained.

The scene where they go get the couch from the creepy place is the one they shot last for season 3.

The paint scene: they only had one try. Axel and Maxence hadn’t shot together for a week, David had done it on purpose and they’d missed each other. It was shot on a Friday at the exact time it was supposed to happen IRL. The whole thing lasts 14 minutes long. David took their pants off because they were slipping too much. Xavier almost stopped filming he was like “is he serious? did he just take their pants off??”. They shot a part when one of them slips on the ground and the other follows but that didn’t make the cut. There were 25 people on set, everyone in a suit to protect from the paint, but Axel and Maxence forgot everyone and just got lost in their characters. When David yelled cut, Axel and Maxence didn’t hear him and kept making out. David had to separate them. Then they all were so happy that they yelled their joy but then saw all the people who were behind the camera, and everyone was crying, like they had witnessed something too intimate. They showered for an hour, emptied 2 bottles of soap and even then it wasn’t enough, Axel still had paint running down his neck at a party that evening. The music used on set was Dreamer, the Khlar remix. Maxence was upset it wasn’t the one they ended up using in the clip, it felt like a betrayal because it “wasn’t the song they had made love to”.

Maxence fought with the costume department over the briefs he was wearing in the paint scene, because they had shot the PONI scene first and he could remember which ones he was wearing for the PONI scene and he wanted to wear the same ones. He was sure people would notice.

The first scene Maxence ever shot was the PONI scene.

The boat scene was quite special. It was a big moment for Maxence, he was extremely nervous, so David reduced the team on set as much as he could. Maxence got upset at Axel for being too present during the scene. Being used to a theatre stage, Axel is always a bit over the top, eating his ham with a flourish, stuff like that, but this was supposed to be Eliott’s big scene. Maxence asked for a break and told David that if Axel didn’t tone it down, he’d kill him. That also got resolved quickly.

The Remember Me scene: the priest is Lula’s dad. Lula and Niels both make a cameo in the church. They forgot to warn Axel that a car was coming when he’s running so his reaction is genuine. He was running so fast, the minivan with the camera couldn’t keep up so they shot it twice. They shot Lucas finding Eliott under the bridge just after shooting the first kiss. Maxence only had 4 minutes to get into the right state of mind which was extremely challenging and during that time he had to change his clothes, dry his hair and redo his makeup. Axel wasn’t feeling very well, he was exhausted after having shot 4 clips that day, but David told him he could do it so he ran on the path to the bridge harder than ever (David thought he was going to hurt his sinews) and when he fell to his knees, he was close to passing out, you can actually hear when he says the first “t’es pas tout seul” that he’s about to throw up / can’t breathe properly. They only shot that part once and after it was done David told them they should hug each other because what they had just done with Lucas and Eliott was precious and a moment to remember.

There was supposed to be a scene after the Remember scene but it was cut. Eliott is sleeping, Lucas brings him food and starts reading his book and then Eliott wakes up. They say hi, Eliott is confused about the time it is, it’s already late afternoon. He says he needs to leave, but Lucas tells him no. He keeps saying he has to go, he has to go to his parents. Lucas tells him it’s fine, they’ve been warned of where he is. But he says he’s got to leave anyway. Lucas asks him why he keeps insisting he needs to leave and Eliott tells him he just doesn’t want Lucas to see him like this. Lucas tells him he doesn’t mind. Then he starts teasing him, saying Eliott just wants to leave because he doesn’t want to own up to the fact that he lied to him. Eliott is confused. Lucas reminds him that he’d said there was no way he would ever be able to sleep next to a guy that hot (on the boat) and yet here they are actually taking naps. So Eliott must have lied to Lucas about finding him hot. Eliott says he’s an idiot and Lucas tells him that at least he’s not a liar at that what matters is that he is his idiot. “Congrats, you’re now the owner of an idiot… more or less hot” Eliott tells him he’s won and asks what they should do now. Lucas answers that they should start by saying hi properly and they kiss, and when they pull back they just look at each other whispering “salut”. Axel said he was upset at David for cutting the scene because it was so soft and intimate, he called him when he watched the episode to ask why he cut it, but it would have been too repetitive with the following Lundi 17h21 clip.

Lundi 17h21 is the second clip Maxence shot. Lucas’s “T’es beau quand tu rigoles” wasn’t scripted, Axel changed the script, he was supposed to say something about liking seeing Eliott smile.

The Je t’aime scene: the first shot they did was the most emotional one, it was one of the hardest scenes emotionally for Axel. He was crying so so much, he had tears and snot everywhere, and Maxence was just wiping it away so tenderly that David thought about keeping that shot but the snot was REALLY disgusting so they didn’t keep it. They shot it a few more times, except that then Maxence had to leave. So the shot of Lucas saying Moi aussi is actually to David. Axel said it didn’t feel weird because he does love David so it felt true.

SEASON 4

Assa sat down with the team before they wrote anything for the season and told them her whole life story. It lasted 4 hours and she cried when reading the script because they had included so many things she had told them, it felt like her and Imane were one.

Making Assa dance was Philippine’s idea. David asked her what she thought about when thinking of Assa, something that was really her and Philippine said “Dada, you should see her dance”

Moussa and Assa knew each other before since they had filmed together 5 years prior, a movie in which they already were siblings. They feel like siblings in real life.

The worst clip to shoot was on Lais’s first day of shooting, it was the bus clip. The shooting conditions were terrible, there was too much noise, and the crew was tired from having shot the 3 bus stop clips from season 3 earlier that day. David was convinced there would be nothing to save and they would have to rent another bus but the team worked their magic in post prod and it turned out amazing.

They shot the scene with Imane, Lucas and Eliott in class the day after Halloween. Maxence was at a party the night before and lost track of time. He had to take a taxi straight from the party to the set at 6am and showed up in full zombie costume and makeup.

Charles come back: it had been cloudy and raining all day but the moment the camera was on the girls’ faces, a ray of sunlight appeared and the wind blew in their hair, making it a real dramatic moment. Too good to pass on, it’s the shot they kept.

The fight between Lucas and Eliott that we vaguely hear in the background was just gibberish. Axel and Maxence hadn’t prepared anything and Axel just ended up shouting at Maxence things like YOU LIED TO ME BEFORE ABOUT LUCILLE YOU MIGHT BE DOING IT AGAIN ABOUT SOMETHING ELSE and Maxence NO I WOULD NEVER - BUT YOU DID - NO I WOULDN’T - YES YOU DID - NO and they kept going in circles so David was like “guys…. please, you might want to start screaming about something else or this is gonna sound very repetitive” but in the end we can barely hear anything so it didn’t matter much

When Alex comes to pick up Emma to go to the cinema, Assa had a break down and couldn’t stop laughing, hiding under a blanket and making all the girls laugh too with her. David had to scold them a bit to get them to stop.

Lais also ruined a clip by laughing for 15 minutes straight, it’s the clip at Imane’s house when they talk about the fair. It was the longest 15 minutes of the crew’s life.

The oui oui song during Daphné’s birthday party wasn’t planned, the team just lost control of the cast. Axel started it and everyone followed. The cast are actually terrible extras. They are too dramatic and noticeable in the background so party scenes like Daphné’s birthday were a nightmare to shoot.

Assa and Laïs rehearsed the Unknown dance clip every chance they got between every take, everyone kept tripping on them in the corridors.

The last sequences they filmed were actually the last clips at Imane’s house for the Eïd. Axel isn’t in the last shot because he had to leave for his play. He actually ruined the very last clip of season 4 by shouting his goodbyes to David from across the corner.

SEASON 5

The auditions for season 5 and 6 were held in June. Lucas was spotted through his youtube channel and asked to audition.

Coline learned sign language by herself after an initiation class with the whole team. She started signing in July and has been practicing ever since. Robin took a one week class in September and then kept practicing by himself and with the D/deaf people on set. David and the rest of the team also took an initiation class.

Robin doesn’t like water and was anxious about the scenes in the pool. David got in the water with Xavier, Robin and Winona to reassure him and direct them better. They limited the number of extras around the pool because of that.

The place where Eliott works is where David used to work when he was younger.

Coline wrote a song for the season

They couldn’t leave the mural in the high school so they took it off the wall (it wasn’t actually painted on the wall itself) and cut it into pieces. There are a few pieces framed on the walls of Lucas and Eliott’s flat.

#skam france #skam france bts #gaelle parle

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pixie88 · 4 years ago

Text

Meeting the Parents pt1

Chapter 11 - Always the Bridesmaid.

A/N: I’ve had this chapter in my draft for a few days now after the last chapter everything seemed to flow so well now I have 4 other chapters in my drafts eeekkk! But I will slowly release them because, some of the story lines in a couple of the chapters I’m not sure I’m going to stick with just yet. I hope you like it.

If you would like to be ADDED or REMOVED just let me know!

Read previous chapters HERE!

Warnings: Fluff & Light NSFW

Word Count: 2052

Pairings: Laila x Harry

Enjoy!

Ever since they saw Gemma he had been quiet, Laila wondered if maybe he wasn't over her? Or was it because he felt awkward he had called her his girlfriend? He had even turned her down to take a shower with him. He wanders into the kitchen where she's cooking, she too lost in thought to notice him come in.

"Laila?" He made her jump, "Sorry I was away with the fairies" she weakly smiles at him "Nice shower?" She tries to sound neutral "Yeah, thanks. Do you need any help in here?" Talking to him feels awkward it has never felt awkward not even when they were first dating she has to ask.

"Harry, what's wrong?" He's shocked she had pick up on his mood "Nothing," he shook his head, "You've been off since we saw Gem? So many things are going around in my head right now"

"Like what?" He asks "Like are you being off because you still have feelings for her?" He's shocked, he grasps her shoulder "No! No, I don't those feelings are dead and buried a long time ago! I love you!"

"Then why are you being so weird?" He sighs "Laila, I want to tell you I do.." she rolls her eyes "But you can't...Harry if you can't tell me what's wrong or why you're being so off I don't think we should meet each others parents...I'm sorry I can't sit there and pretend everything is OK when it's clearly not!"

He knows this is a big step in their relationship "I'm worried if I do I'll lose you," she let out a soft laugh "If what I told you about Josh didn't scare you away, then nothing will scare me away. I'm like chewing gum in your hair annoying and you can't get it out!" He chuckles "The thing is I'm not even a hundred percent myself"

"Is it because you called me your girlfriend? Do you wishing you could take it back?" He had forgotten about that, she's smirking at him "I don't want to take it back" he smiles at her "But you haven't asked me!" She laughs.

"Maybe I should tell you what's been bothering me before I ask you....Gemma and I split a little over a year and a half, after I found out she had been cheating on me with one of my clients. Today was the first time I saw her since we split up, when I asked her about the kid I did the calculations. Laila, I could have a son"

Laila is a bit thrown, but then she remembers what her brother Nate went through. He turns away from her "Harry?" She reaches for his arm, turning him towards her. This is the part where she ends things...or so he thought!

"Harry, will you be my boyfriend?" This was the last thing he thought she'd ask considering what he had just told her. He looks at her confused expect her to laugh, saying she was joking, but she doesn't "What?" He asks not quite believing he heard her.

"Harry Taylor, will you be my boyfriend?" She asks again "But..I just...Laila.." she cuts him off "Harry stop! Answer the question!" He can't believe he can be this lucky "I would love nothing more! This isn't a joke is it?"

She laughs, "Of course not! You told me what was bothering and whether you have a son or not I love you and having a child isn't going to change those feelings. Plus, how can I get angry over something you clearly knew nothing about! I understand my brother Nathan went through the same kinda thing he had a baby at 16 with his then girlfriend, she moved away and never told him. She was a bit of a psycho he didn't find out until she was 2 years old. We will do this together!"

His arms wrap around her as his lips capture hers, he pulls away just a little "You know you are amazing right!" She laughs "You're only just realising this! Why did I get myself a boyfriend that is so slow on the uptake" she jokes. He laughs, "Harry all I know you can't change the past, but you can improve the future. All we can do now is find out the truth and go from there"

He really can't believe this girl..Others would have run a mile or thrown a paddy, but she didn't? He guessed that's the difference between dating a woman rather than a girl. He picks her up, throwing her over his shoulder "Harry!! The dinner!!" She squealed, he turned back to the hob turning off the heated ring before making his way to her bedroom, slapping her cheek as she playfully protests.

Buzzzzz, buzzzzzzzz, buzzzzzzzzzzzz!

"HARRY!" Laila giggles as he tries to pull her back to bed while she is redressing and making a run for the door. Her parents are early they always were no matter where they went. "Hello?" She picks up the intercom "I'll buzz you up," she says as she's pulling on her underwear. Her skirt gets tucked into her lacy underwear revealing her ass cheek which has an teeth mark impression.

He smirks as he untucks her skirt he gently taps her cheek, She smirks at him as she opens the front door of the flat while smoothing over her hair. Liz walks through the door and Terry is close behind her "Mum, Dad! Hi!" Liz pulls her in for a hug before letting go "Harry, nice to see you again!" he shook her hand "Thanks, nice to see you again and you Terry"

"Like wise!" Terry nods at him, Laila secretly laughs inside, Terry was exactly the same with Josh. "Come in, would you like a drink?" Both her parents nod, Harry helps her. They take a seat at the table, "Harry, you're a personal trainer right?" Terry asks.

"Yeah, I am" Terry smiles "So, any tips on how to get rid of this beer gut?"

"I get book you in for some sessions with me...only if you want to?" Under the table, he grips Laila's hand he's nervous, his hands are sweaty. She runs her thumb over his knuckles which instantly calms him down.

"How much are these sessions?" Terry seems interested. "Erm..normally £65 a session, but I'm sure I can sort out a discount"

"Don't you think I can afford the going rate?" Terry hisses making Harry stumble on his words. When Harry isn't looking Terry winks at his daughter letting her know he's joking.

"Erm...no...I didn't mean to insult you..sorry I...think"

Terry chuckles "I'm just messing with ya! Look I'm not one of those dad's who's hard on their kids partners. I can see you make her happy and with what she's gone through in the past I'm glad she's found someone to make her sparkle again! But I will say one thing....I'm nice until you mess her about that's when you need to run!"

A bell rings from the kitchen telling Laila the dinner is ready, Harry automatically gets up to help her. "He's trained" Liz laughs, Laila tuts at her mum.

In the kitchen, Harry lets out a breath "Your dad had me then!" She laughs, "He's like that with everyone. He's friends with anyone until they cross him!"

"What will he think if he knew the truth about Gemma?" He looks worried.

"He'll be fine, if anything he'll feel sorry for you! Like I said my brother Nate didn't know he had a kid until Zeppy was nearly 2 years old! Now stop fretting until we know for sure and help me take these out"

She hands him a couple of plates.

After dinner Liz helps Harry take out the plates, leaving Laila and Terry at the table, "He seems like a nice guy, sweetie!" She's relieved he approves "He is!" Terry can see right through his daughter even when she's trying to hide it "I sense a but?"

She can't lie to her dad, he will know she's lying straight away. She looks round to the kitchen door where she can hear them loading the dishwasher.

"Laila, what is it?"

"You can't tell mum! He thinks he might be a dad"

Terry immediately looks to his daughters tummy "Not with me! We bumped into his ex today. She had a little boy with her and Harry did the sums he could be his son. I'm fine with it, but am I ready to be step mum to a kid who's if he is the dad I've been dating for only 2 months?"

Terry sighs, "Laila, if I was having this, talk with your brothers, I would tell them to run a mile, but that's only because they aren't mature enough to bring up another person's child. But you, well you have a good head on your shoulders, you love him, right?" She nods "Well, I think you will surprise yourself how well you take to it. Plus nothing set in stone yet. So, don't throw away something good for something that might be!"

"Who's ready for dessert?" Harry calls out as he comes into the dining room with his homemade cheesecake.

Terry winks at his daughter, she knows he's right...he always is.

"So how long have you two been dating?" Liz asks the pair.

"Well, he stalked me at work, then stole a business card after the stag weekend"

"Determination! That's what I like to see!" Terry jokes.

"See told you it wasn't stalking!" Harry bumps his shoulder with hers, she rolled her eyes at him.

"Terry stalked me! I had bumped into him at the local corner shop where we lived, I was in my school uniform 16 at the time, he was 18. We got talking then the following day he was outside my school ready to walk me home. Unbeknown to him I only lived 2 streets!" Liz laughs.

"Hey, they say chivalry is dead now a days. So, count yourself lucky" Terry jokes.

"Not completely dead" Laila winks at Harry, who blushes "This one wouldn't let me get the tube alone...twice!"

Liz coos from across the table "I've told you about that too! So, thanks Harry!" Terry tuts at his daughter.

Harry smirks at her "We'll have to have everyone round for dinner so you can officially meet the rest of the family!" Liz saying excited.

"Yes, her 3 older brothers" Harry smiles awkwardly.

"I'll have a word with them, so they lay off you," Terry winks, Harry had his full approval "Do you any siblings?"

Harry nods "3 older brothers and a younger sister. Laila has already met one brother and my sister"

She laughs remembering Arthur had came to the stag weekend and that night had met Izzy "Ah yes! Izzy! I thought you were on another date!" She hadn't told him this.

He seemed shocked "Sorry to break it to you darling, I'm a one woman man. Even when we aren't official" She rolls her eyes at him.

"Are you two official yet?" Liz asks, Laila nods "This afternoon actually mum!" Liz claps over excited.

"Yes, your daughter is a 21st century woman she asked me!"

"She always did know what she wants and how to get it!" Terry laughs.

"Well, I did say I love you first! Bit of a theme there" she winks.

Terry chuckles "She knows her own mind!"

Later they are in bed "Do you think your parents liked me?"

"I think you won them over straight away, they can see how happy you make me and how much I love you so they approve"

He pulls her on top of him "I hope they saw how much I love you too" he smiles.

"I think they did! Harry, are you going to speak to Gemma?"

"I was thinking about speaking to her tomorrow, the sooner I know the truth the better"He pulls her lips to his.

~*~*~*~

The next morning

He rang the door bell, his heart was in his throat, he's 50/50.

One side he kinda hopes he is his son, but on the other he hopes he's not.

The door opens, she's surprised "Harry, what...." he cuts her off "Is he mine?!"

Continue reading this story here - Chapter 12

@lem-20 @shewillreadyou @secretaryunpaid @aussieez @khoicesbyk @irisofpurple @txemrn @casualpostqueen @tea-me-kah @shannonwrote @fanjessfic

#atb #always the bridesmaid #fiction #fictionalstory #pixie88 original #harry x laila

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 4 years ago

Text

The Name Written on My Heart

Sequel to Name on a Coffee Cup requested by Anon. Happy Valentines/Galentines Day my darlings!

Modern!Tommy and Ava continue their relationship outside the cafe.

After his first date with Ava, Tommy felt like his heart was slowly being restarted. After Grace passed, he assumed that the rest of his love would be given to Charlie. But even then, he felt like he was failing.

Oftentimes his son would much rather go spend the day with his aunts or uncles or have playdates with friends. Polly assured him that it was natural for the young boy to want to be independent as he got older. But still, Tommy felt like he was always the second pick for Charlie and he was afraid it was because he just wasn’t enough for the boy.

When Ava began to spend time at Tommy’s flat, Charlie gravitated toward her like a magnet. Not that Tommy could blame him. She was much better at interacting with him. She wasn’t afraid to get down to his level to play and go along with his wild imagination. Still, Tommy was a bit dismayed he wasn’t the kind of father Charlie needed.

Until he subconsciously took cues from Ava to relax a bit. He wasn’t as strict and felt like his relationship with Charlie was getting better and more natural.

~~~~~~~~~~

On the other hand, Tommy was easing back into a serious relationship. There were a few roadblocks along the way. Around Halloween one year, Ava came over to carve pumpkins and bake some sugar cookies in the shape of bats and ghosts. Charlie had a ball and demanded that Monster Mash be played over and over again as he darted around the living room on a sugar high. When he finally crashed, Tommy carried him to bed before helping Ava clean up the mess in the kitchen.

“It’s late.” She noted.

“Yeah, I’ll drive you home. Don’t want you taking the tube this late.”

“Oh.” Ava glanced by the door where she’d left her bag. The bag that she had packed a change of clothes and her toothbrush in. Her face went red as she realized how stupid it was that she thought it would be the first night she might sleepover.

Tommy read her expression and paused. They’d been dating for quite some time. Almost two years at that point. He was even beginning to think that maybe they would spend the rest of their lives together. He could certainly see it happening, even if it was a bit soon to know for sure. And yet, there was always that hesitation that he felt. The protectiveness he had for Charlie. The thought that Tommy didn’t deserve love. The fear that he would lose someone else that he cared so deeply about.

“I understand, it’s alright,” Ava said as if she could read his mind.

Tommy didn’t move for a moment. Half of him wanted her to stay, half of him wanted to just drive her home so he could be by himself. Something he thought he deserved. She was far too kind and forgiving for him. Far too sensible. Far too sweet. Far too understanding.

“Stay.” The word came out before Tommy could realize what he’d said. “I want you to stay. You belong here…you’re perfect with Charlie and you get him better than I do. I know I don’t deserve you but I would do anything to have you here, even if it’s just for a night.”

Ava hugged him close and kissed his cheek. “I think you’re selling yourself too short.” She murmured. “Charlie adores you and so do I.”

Tommy took a deep breath and held her for a moment before she slipped away.

“C’mon, let’s take care of this mess so we can go to bed.” She smiled at him.

~~~~~~~~~~

It was what Tommy loved about her so much. She made having emotions so much easier. There was no big spectacle of it, she never called him out for feeling upset or depressed. She always knew exactly what to say.

The next year, once Ava’s lease was up, she moved into Tommy’s flat. Charlie was overjoyed that he had there every day. And she meshed perfectly with their schedules. On the days that she was opening the café, she woke up early, around the same time Tommy did. They went about their morning routines and welcomed in Charlie’s nanny who would wake up the boy for school. When Ava worked later shifts, she took care of getting Charlie to school on time. It worked exceptionally well.

Almost to a point where Tommy expected things to go wrong. Everything was going too well and he became very suspicious. About a year after Ava moved in, Tommy self-sabotaged.

~~~~~~~~~~~

One night, Ava had gone out with friends from uni that she hadn’t seen in a while. Tommy was up late working at the flat when she came home. Although a little tipsy, she was coherent as she kissed his cheek and wrapped her arms around him from behind.

“I take it you had fun then.” Tommy chuckled.

“It really was. Of course, we didn’t close the pub like we did back in those days. My ex-boyfriend wanted to stay but we were all so tired.” She laughed softly.

It set off a trigger inside Tommy. “Didn’t know your ex would be there.”

“Our whole friend group was. We’ve been planning a little reunion like this for a while.” Ava didn’t immediately pick up on his icy tone.

Tommy set down his pen and leaned back in his desk chair with his arms crossed over his chest. “Just something I thought you’d tell me.”

“I didn’t think it would matter.” She frowned and withdrew her arms. “It doesn’t bother you, does it?”

He didn’t answer, looking ahead at his laptop on a home screen.

“Tommy, honestly.” Ava tried again to make him talk with no avail. “We dated years ago. I’ve been dating you longer than I’ve ever dated anyone else. You really think I’d throw that all away?”

Tommy simply shrugged.

She scoffed at his attempt to be blasé to the issue when she knew he was stewing inside. “You’re impossible.” With a huff, she stormed out of the room and went to the bedroom, locking the door behind her.

~~~~~~~~

The next day was even worse. After spending the night on the couch, Tommy felt like an ass for what he’d done. Although it wasn’t an argument like they’d had before, it still cut deep. He had basically spelled out that he didn’t trust her. It wasn’t entirely true. Tommy trusted Ava because it was unlike her to be unfaithful. But he didn’t trust the world. He’d seen what could happen to good people. In his eyes, Ava had a target on her back because of her tendency to be so warm-hearted and vulnerable.

That morning, Ava had left before Tommy could even get a word of apology in. She didn’t answer his texts throughout the day and it drove him insane. He had to settle for the breakroom coffee because he couldn’t gather up the courage to go down to the café and face Ava.

The rest of the office picked up on the fact that he was in a sour mood. All but Arthur, who walked in whistling to himself.

“So, what’ve you got planned for Valentine’s Day?” The eldest Shelby asked.

Tommy looked up from his paperwork, then to the calendar on his desk. Indeed, Valentine’s Day was that weekend. He’d ordered a custom bracelet for Ava and had it hidden in his desk drawer. But other than that, he’d completely forgotten. “I’m not sure.” He mumbled. “I upset her last night.”

Arthur sighed. “Tom, we’ve talked about this. You don’t think you deserve happiness so you ruin your own life. You can make it up to her. Just put on the ‘ol charm, aye?”

~~~~~~~~~~~`

Ava was giving Tommy the silent treatment for most of the week. He felt it was deserved and just prayed Arthur was right and that he could redeem himself.

Come Sunday, Ava came home from work. She still felt hurt, especially since Tommy appeared to have forgotten it was even Valentine’s Day. But then Charlie rushed to the door.

“Ava, Ava!” He was bouncing up and down. “C’mon!” He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the kitchen.

Tommy was chopping up vegetables. He glanced up and smiled sheepishly.

Ava looked a bit confused. “What’s all this?” There was an array of items all laid out on the counter. Balls of dough were resting on cutting boards next to little bowls of toppings.

“I asked Charlie what we could do special for Valentine’s Day.”

“And I wanted pizza!” The little boy piped up. “Look, he climbed up onto a stool and patted the dough.

A small smile formed on Ava’s face. “Well, that looks fun.” She said and walked over.

“Here, Charlie,” Tommy handed his son the rolling pin. “Try to flatten it, but not too thin.” Then he turned to Ava.

“So, you were scheming today, huh?” She asked.

“Av, I’m sorry.” He took her hands in his. “Whenever I have a good thing, I never think I deserve it. And you’re one of the best things I’ve ever had.”

“I don’t want you pushing me away.” She replied quietly. “If you have an issue, tell me. I’m here to be your confidant.”

Tommy nodded and took a deep breath. He kissed her softly.

“Daddy, s’a square pizza!” Charlie exclaimed.

The two pulled away and chuckled. Indeed, the little boy had rolled the dough out into a square.

“I guess it’ll taste the same.” Ava smiled and went over to help him.

Tommy lingered to the side a bit, watching her with Charlie. The two laughed as they made a mess with the sauce and cheese.

This was a good thing. He would hold onto the good and keep it close to his heart. Everyone deserved love. Tommy was just thankful that he had Ava and Charlie.

“Daddy, look,” Charlie called.

Tommy chuckled when he saw a smiley face made of pepperoni on the pizza. “Why don’t you make it a heart? It’s Valentine’s Day.”

His son made a face. “That’s yucky.”

“Oh, Charles, you won’t be my Valentine?” Ava pouted.

“No, gross. Girls are gross.”

“Are they, then?” Tommy raised an eyebrow then went to give Ava a big dramatic kiss.

“EW!” Charlie pulled his shirt over his head to hide his face.

They laughed. “Alright, alright. I guess your dad will be my Valentine. And maybe we can add a nose to the smiley face.” Ava put another piece of pepperoni on the pizza. “Go on and add some peppers and onions. I’ve got to get your Valentine gifts.” She washed her hands and went down the hall.

Tommy took the cue and grabbed Ava’s necklace from his briefcase.

Ava returned with two wrapped gifts. “Charlie, love, this is from dad and me.” She gave him a box which he happily tore into to find an art supply kit.

“Wow, cool! Thanks!” He beamed.

Ava and Tommy exchanged gifts as well. He opened his to find a photograph of his newest racehorse with his name, Kingsman, carved into the silver frame.

“To add to your collection.” She smiled knowing that Tommy kept a photo of all of his winning horses in his office.

“I love it.” He remarked at the stunning picture of the pure black stallion.

Ava didn’t answer. She had opened the jewelry box to find the silver necklace with a teardrop diamond pendant. She had never owned anything so beautiful before. “Tom…” Her eyes welled up with tears.

“D’you like it?” He asked hesitantly.

“Of course.” Her voice shook. “It’s gorgeous, thank you.” She touched his cheek and kissed him deeply.

“Daddy, I don’t like mushrooms, I’m not putting mushrooms on the pizza.” Charlie interrupted them.

“Alright, it was worth a shot.” Tommy sighed and went back over to the counter.

“That looks very nice, Charlie.” Ava praised. “Why don’t we let dad put it in the oven and we can check out your new art supplies.”

“Okay!” Charlie hopped down from the stool and carried the box to the kitchen table.

Ava kissed Tommy’s cheek. “Happy Valentine’s Day.” She said softly.

//It felt so funny writing the tube. Like I feel like it’s some sort of slang that Americans think British people use but they don’t? In my city we call the subway the T. That’s also stupid but our subway lines are bastards who don’t deserve full names or loving nicknames. Fuck you T.

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halothenthehorns · 3 years ago

Text

TLTNL- THE HOGWARTS HIGH INQUISITOR

"Padfoot mate, you don't really think you think," he cut himself off and went cross eyed before trying again, "I mean that Harry is-" then he stopped again for the ludicrous statement couldn't even manage to pass his lips.

Sirius watched with some distant form of amusement as James struggled to find words, a concept in itself, as he ran his fingers hard through his hair and tried to find a way to answer. "What if I do? All those stories we've heard about what happens to those in Azkaban, what makes you think that didn't happen to me after twelve years? Turning into a dog could only have saved me so much-"

"Don't," James snapped, his eyes darkening by the second. "I can't stand thinking of you like that, it's never going to happen."

"It's already happening Prongs," Sirius whispered back. "What if we can't stop this, it's all supposed to happen in less than a year! People will start going missing, and then Dumbledore's going to come around and get you and Lily to go into hiding, and I'll do it again, I swear I will, I'll hunt down that rat bastard and-"

"Think what you're saying," James snapped, fighting hard not to knock him upside the head while he did. "Future tense mate, we'll find a way to stop this happening well before then, so stop acting like it's inevitable already. You're not going to turn into that, I refuse."

Sirius still couldn't seem to take his words to heart, gazing at a picture Lily had hung up on the wall of a forest that had branches swaying in the wind, an occasional critter flipping in and out of sight. It reminded him of the Forbidden Forest, where he'd had so many happy memories, and it scared him how tainted those already were, and kept reminding him it was only going to get worse. "It's my worst nightmare come to life, I don't know how but the universe did that to me. Made me go as mad as my folks, in a different way I'll grant but all the same, and then jailing me right back there."

"It's not going to happen," James repeated, and would keep doing so until it sunk through his thick head.

They met eyes, Sirius almost absently saying, "you have always been around to remind me of that," and then quickly flipped subjects before even the notion of this no longer existing could linger, "honestly though, I thought you were going to bring me up here to rib me for talking to Harry like that."

James snorted and rolled his eyes, forcing himself to relax as he seemed to think he'd accomplished something. "I'd be remiss if you didn't tell Harry he wasn't having enough fun in his life. I still think you should show up at Hogsmeade and show those three what we used to get up to, Harry needs more fun in his life and he's clearly not getting it from his friends."

Sirius bit at his lip as he realized Harry wasn't getting that from him either, he'd been far too consumed with his own pity party, but at James' words, he was now at least holding out hope it would come true soon.

James watched as Sirius was already starting to fall back into wallowing, and he couldn't let that stand. Sirius was usually his inspiration to start all the madness they got up to, seeing him so low now truly was doing something to him he could hardly put into words, and he desperately hoped that the next time Sirius' name came up it would be in some form of his release back into a normal life already, he'd suffered long enough for it. For now he grasped his shoulder with a tight squeeze before actually managing his old laugh back and saying, "come on now, let's see what kind of mass destruction the school causes in rebellion against whatever that stupid comment of Percy's was. Dumbledore not in charge, pfft, Fudge couldn't do any such thing."

Sirius did at least smile as he followed him back for that, any talk of setting Umbridge in the area with the twins was bound to cause a laugh, which he was hoping to hear from soon. The methods she used on Harry weren't going to hold long.

Lily and Remus were still very concerned by whatever that reaction had been, but also knew James was the best, if not the only person Sirius would get help from with it and so were plenty satisfied to see him not visibly lingering on it when they came back.

Harry most of all wanted to persist on the subject, as he felt like he'd let Sirius down in some way, but when his godfather flopped down beside him with a normal smile in place Harry just couldn't bring himself to mess it all up again when his dad had clearly seemed to comfort him about it. So as James picked up the book and began, they were all feeling almost slightly hopeful again this was all going to somehow work out.

They'd expected to have to comb the paper to find this mysterious article, but instead it was right on the front page, with a very large shot of Umbridge accompanying it.

"Urgh, as if you don't get enough of that around the castle, now you've got closeups," James crinkled his nose in disgust.

The title read the woman's new position as High Inquisitor.

"Why do I already have a bad feeling about whatever the hell that made up title is?" Remus sighed.

"You've got good instincts," Harry's eyes were already narrowed with dislike.

Harry asked what that could mean, as Hermione began reading the article about the Ministry passing new legislation giving itself new levels of control inside Hogwarts.

James struggled to understand even the first sentence! What did that mean, the Ministry had control over their school?

Lily had her lips very tightly pursed as her mind flew through the ramifications of that. Hogwarts had always been of its own body and under the guide of the current Headmaster. This had allowed for a lot of free will inside the school outside of Ministry influence which many considered a good thing, as it left the children to grow up and form their own opinions of what they thought were right and wrong. Now their own government was more than actively stepping in as more than just a substitute teacher role? Just what the hell was Umbridge going to have these students doing? Aside from torturing them!

James looked to his friends like he was hoping for some kind of clarification from them, but both seemed just as confounded by the idea.

The Minister had been growing uneasy about the goings-on of the school for a while, says Junior Minister Percy Weasley.

"Did they have to post his title? I find that entirely unnecessary as of course his Junior would agree with him," Sirius scoffed.

"I just wish they hadn't said his last name, marks a bad light on all the Weasleys," Remus rolled his eyes for poor Arthur and his reaction to further seeing his son agreeing with all this.

Minister Fudge is now responding to the concerns from anxious parents who were concerned of the direction the school was moving in.

"Then they should talk to the Headmaster, and deal with this in house as it's always been," Lily stated absently, still trying to wrap her head around how this abrupt change had just sprung up overnight and it was entirely allowed.

This was not the first time Fudge had been seen influencing the school of late, as of the end of August he'd also enacted Educational Decree Number Twenty-two, giving the Ministry power to elect a teacher at the school should the Headmaster or mistress not find a candidate.

"Oh that's even better, they've been at this since the summer," James said in exasperation, already a spiel of comments he could imagine his parents saying if they'd heard about this.

Weasley continued speaking about how this was how Umbridge had begun her time there, and she was an immediate success-

"Let's put Percy in detention with her and see how long he holds that," Harry said grimly as he rubbed absently at the back of his hand.

"He'd have to be set up to be put in there, and even then I'll bet he could kiss her arse out of it," Sirius growled, perhaps even more darkly than he should have just for having to watch Harry do that.

Harry cut in there to protest the absurdity of that statement, but Hermione shushed him and kept reading about Percy saying she was revolutionizing the teaching of Defence Against the Dark Arts.

"By not teaching them! Yeah, I'd say that's revolutionary!" Remus balked at the absurdity.

The success of this function lead into current Educational Decree Number twenty-three, the creation of the High Inquisitor. A position that allowed the Ministry to evaluate the teachers on premises and make sure they were up to scratch to be teaching future youths. Professor Umbridge had delightfully accepted this role along with her teacher's position.

Lily had to swallow a bitter taint as she almost realized what a good idea that could have been coming from anyone else. Abysmal teachers like Lockhart and Snape wouldn't have been a problem then...but that's not what this job was really doing, and she knew it full well, so didn't bother speaking it.

These new transitions had received much support from parents who had children attending school.

"I do not believe that," James scoffed. "If my folks had heard the Ministry was weaseling around inside Hogwarts they'd have thrown a fit. They never have before and they're just suddenly doing it now after they've spent the summer campaigning what a mentally unstable person Dumbledore was? That doesn't seem the least bit suspicious it's all happening at the same time?"

Lucius Malfoy being quoted as saying his mind was much more at ease knowing Dumbledore was being put under evaluation.

"Ah, well at least that support suddenly made sense," Remus scowled.

The paper continues in saying this was something that should have long since been done considering the controversial appointments over the last few years, including half-giant Rubeus Hagrid, a delusional ex-Auror known as Alastor, Mady-Eye, Moody, and the werewolf Remus Lupin.

Remus suddenly felt such a sharp twist of fear in him he retched on the spot and felt lucky he didn't vomit. He'd never been afraid of attention before, unavoidable when you made friends with James and Sirius, but the fact that his name was actually being thrown out like that honestly made him question how he was even still alive. After all, the last werewolf that had ended up in the papers had a hole hunt formed around him-

Sirius gently cut off this train of thought by smacking Remus upside the head and saying, "knock it off Moony, if they haven't done anything to you before now they're not going to suddenly start just because the Ministry is pushing in. You're long gone, clearly not making a bid to come back, and Dumbledore's got you doing that shitty arse underground work that leaves you so far off the radar anyways it's a miracle if you'll even be reading this."

Remus almost found the comfort somewhere in there, at least his body stopped trying to throw up.

Harry was honestly curious enough to interrupt what this mysterious underground work was. He'd long since gathered it had something to do with Remus staying in contact with other werewolves, but he still longed for details he decided against asking even now because it was such a touchy subject for the poor guy.

Others were not as enthusiastic about these changes, two of the Wizengamot had quit in protest of this.

"While I applaud them," Lily nodded sadly, "but it's almost a backfire on them as well, for the same reason Tonks and Arthur haven't quit their post yet. They do more good holding their tongue and staying on the inside."

"That method ceases being useful when it's all you end up doing," James scowled, though at Harry for holding his tongue far too often.

One being quoted as saying that was a school, not the next outpost for Fudge, this was only further attempts to discredit Dumbledore.

Sirius gave a merry little applause for that bit at least, thankful that this had been put into the paper at all the way it was running lately.

The article ended then with the ominous comment how one of those who had quit had details of goblin subservice groups on a separate page. Hermione said at least now they had their reason of Umbridge being here, and now she could go and inspect all of their teachers? This was outrageous!

Harry agreed with his fist tightly clenched, the words etched into his hand already a dull white instead of having vanished.

James saw red as he realized four days had already been enough to put that mark into his skin. Years later and it was still there. None of them had the delusion this wasn't going to happen to Harry again, and he doubted he could read through it without screaming some more no matter how little good it would do.

But a grin was unfurling on Ron's face.

"I immediately like where his thoughts went," Sirius piped up at once as the same grin appeared, thinking of that foul toad trying to inspect someone like McGonagall and blissfully aware who was going to come up on top.

They asked what he found to smile about, and he said he couldn't wait for Umbridge to inspect McGonagall, the toad wouldn't know what hit her.

The others caught on as well, and now they were all grinning in anticipation of watching McGonagall have a thing or two to say to that pitiful excuse for a teacher.

Hermione stopped the conversation then by getting to her feet and reminding they had History of Magic. Harry was surprised when he didn't find Umbridge in there to inspect the lesson.

"What are the odds she won't be inspecting any of the ones Harry's in?" Remus said without a trace of hope.

"Non existent," James said without looking up.

Nor was she in potions, where Harry was given back his essay with a D for a grade.

"I find it an actual miracle he didn't just flat give you a T," Sirius rolled his eyes.

Once all the assignments had been handed back, Snape gave a speech at the front saying he'd graded these as if they had been OWL finals, and hoped to see better improvement over all, or he would start handing out detentions to the dunces that got d's.

Lily almost felt a twitch appear on her lips again at his alliterations, he'd always gotten a giggle out of her when he did this, but she forced herself not to react.

Malfoy snickered loudly that someone had gotten so low a grade.

"I'm guessing he gave you an O after you cheated off of someone else's," James rolled his eyes.

"Or paid another student to do it," Sirius agreed.

Harry saw Hermione looking sideways at his and he quickly stuffed it out of sight before she could see.

"Why bother?" Remus asked curiously.

"I can already hear the lecture she'd give about how I should have tried harder or some nonsense," Harry sighed.

Lily frowned at him for that, wishing he would try harder in this class even if he did hate the teacher, but at least holding herself back.

Determined not to give Snape a reason to ruin this attempt, Harry carefully studied every line of instructions today before brewing his potion. It was still a bit more runny and not quite the right shade of turquoise like Hermione's, but he handed it in with the satisfaction Snape couldn't say anything about it with mingled defiance and relief.

"I commend you, considering at some point I'd have just chucked the cauldron in his face," James snorted.

Hermione began babbling at once about OWL grades as they left for lunch, saying while she hadn't expected the top grade,

"I don't actually believe that," Remus snorted, "I can already imagine her near the end of this crying every five seconds if she doesn't get all O's."

even a pass at this stage was encouraging.

Neither boy responded, so she kept going on about how they now had time to improve, these grades were the baseline for their future-

"Is she going to keep going with this?" James groaned as he eyed the pages with misery. He'd been starting this thinking of more Umbridge carnage, but instead he'd been suffering through some OWL memories he'd have rather forgotten.

Ron finally cut her off if she wanted to know their grades, she should just ask them.

Hermione feigned surprise at the question, but finally did ask.

Ron said he'd got a P, while Fred popped up then to say there was nothing wrong with a good healthy P.

"Err, doesn't P mean-"

"Poor, yeah," Sirius said with chipper, "only one letter off from acceptable, so really they're not wrong."

Hermione was surprised at this statement, as P stood for Poor?

Lee agreed, then said at least it was better than D for Dreadful.

"I always thought it stood for Dunderhead," James grinned.

"Stop naming things after yourself James," Remus quipped.

Harry did not enter the conversation, but Hermione was still in full swing.

"This is most likely going to be an ongoing topic until next year, when she'll move onto complaining about her NEWT grades two years too early," Sirius groaned.

Hermione kept going saying the passing grades were O for outstanding, then A-

Though Fred corrected her E came next,

James gasped wildly, and then frantically prodded the page with his wand as if insisting to find a flaw.

"What do you mean Hermione doesn't know all these by heart?" Sirius agreed mildly. "The way she was obsessing over them, even having done some pre exams last year, you'd really think she'd know that."

"I'm actually quite sure she only took note of what the top grade was and didn't care about the others," Remus rolled his eyes.

for Exceeds Expectations. Personally he thought he and his twin should have gotten E's on everything, considering they exceeded expectations just by showing up.

Causing all five of them to giggle.

They all laughed except Hermione,

"Why is that a recurring thing, it always makes me sad," Lily sighed.

"Someone needs to tell her she's getting a T for her sense of humor, see if she lightens up any then," James agreed.

who ignored him and agreed then it was A for acceptable, and that was the last passing grade.

Ron mock celebrated then you could get a P, then D, while George finished with T, for troll.

Harry laughed unexpectedly, then looked around and realized that while they were smiling, he realized it was at his reaction, and he blinked in shock.

Harry laughed again, though he was not sure whether or not George was joking.

"Nope," Sirius grinned, "though I don't understand why they'd want to give you a letter grade that would make someone think, well that's better than B for Blast-Ended Skrewt."

"You're an idiot," Remus rolled his eyes.

He imagined end of year and getting T's on all his grades, and immediately resolved to do better on his work.

"Whatever gets you through it love," Lily grinned as the thought had never crossed her mind Harry would do any such thing. Even while being at his breaking point he'd still been putting effort into his homework, there was just no way he'd do so poorly on all his exams if he just tried a little harder.

Fred asked if they'd had an inspected lesson yet, because they just had in Charms.

George agreed she'd just sat in the back of the class making notes the whole time, and Flitwick was perfectly polite to her of course. Then near the end she went around asking them some questions on the subject.

Fred asked who they had for their afternoon classes and when Harry started with Trelawney, Fred agreed a T if ever there was one.

Causing them all to snort with laughter as they suddenly imagined the wonderful idea of if the twins had taken her class and the mayhem that could have been.

Then Umbridge herself.

George warned Harry about minding his manners then, because Angelina would do him in if he missed any more Quidditch practice.

"Because that's the important part," James said grimly as his eyes flashed protectively to his son again, wondering if it was possible Umbridge's detentions could somehow get worse if she realized Harry wasn't going to take her message.

Harry didn't have to wait for his last class to see Umbridge again though. As they were taking their seats inside Divination, a sudden hush went over the room as Umbridge entered, causing Trelawney to look around as Umbridge greeted her.

Lily felt an interesting struggle taking place in her mind. She'd disliked Trelawney from the instant she'd been introduced because of insisting her son was to die, which would set any mother on edge. Yet she hated Umbridge quantifiably worse for actually hurting her baby. She wasn't really sure what she wanted to see happen here, but she wouldn't deny she was listening just as curiously as the others.

She began by asking if she'd received the note Umbridge had sent about the date and time of this inspection?

Trelawney went stiff, nodded without response, and then spoke to the class as if she wasn't there that they would continue looking through their dreams.

"Can't deny I'm already intrigued," Remus said grudgingly. "Trelawney shouldn't have had much to do with her before now considering how rarely she leaves her own tower, which means her ire with this woman must come from something we haven't seen yet."

"Maybe just from students like Parvati and Lavender who might have talked about her," Sirius offered without much thought, but immediately corrected himself when he realized, "but they haven't exactly gone out of their way disliking Umbridge themselves yet either."

"I'm sure it's just the insult of her class being inspected," James snorted.

They divided into pairs and Trelawney went to take her seat, realized Umbridge was standing right behind it, and instead began circling the class.

Harry quickly made up a dream on the spot about how he'd drowned Snape in his cauldron.

"They say dreams are where you live out your fantasies," Sirius snickered.

Ron snickered as he went to work on this, saying you were supposed to add age to the date of the dream, plus the number of letters in the subject, before asking if that was drowning, cauldron, or Snape?

"Drowning, isn't it? The other two are nouns," Remus said absently.

"Nouns can be the subject," Lily shrugged, "it depends on verb usage and-"*

"Please, this is why I was grateful Hogwarts never subjected us to Muggle classes, don't start on things I don't care about," Sirius groaned.

Harry couldn't care less about the answer as Ron went to work while Harry eavesdropped on Umbridge catching up to Trelawney and beginning to ask her some questions, such as how long she'd been in this position?

Trelawney regarded her for a moment before deeming the question worthy of the answer sixteen years.

Harry felt a sudden whack at the base of his skull for some unknown reason, absently reaching up and brushing at the back of his head as if to make sure it was still attached but ultimately ignoring the sensation.

Then Umbridge asked that Dumbledore had appointed her himself?

Though it was getting harder by the moment as Umbridge's questions really were starting to dig something out of the base of his skull that was beginning to build up quite a bit of pressure...

Trelawney kept up her curt replies as Umbridge then asked that she was the great-great-granddaughter of the renowned Seer Cassandra Trelawney?

Remus felt an odd smile flicker across his face as some old Greek myth came to mind about the Seer Cassandra who nobody believed truly was one, but he didn't point this out to the others for once as he was more invested hearing about this.

But she was the first in her family line to have inherited the gift of Second Sight?

Trelawney had to hesitate for a moment before saying these things tended to skip, err, three generations.

"Was the pause because she had to think about it and count that on the spot?" James mocked.

Umbridge was clearly not impressed as she made a few notes of this, and then looked on and asked for a prediction to be made.

Trelawney was outraged at once, saying the Inner Eye did not See upon command!

James was almost amused by this, as normally Trelawney spat out so many predictions in a lesson you couldn't shut the woman up. Now Umbridge was asking for one, and that was offensive?

Umbridge shrugged with indifference as she went to make a note of this, but then Trelawney wildly switched to grasping at the pink cardigan, apparently overcome with the fear of what she was seeing, a dark peril looming...

"I think she made herself worse by doing that," Sirius sighed. "Should have just stuck with the first thing she said, then later and a lot more randomly spouted something at least generally more threatening than that generic mess."

Dolores Umbridge was in grave danger!

Umbridge raised an unimpressed brow and ticked off something before saying that would be all.

Lily actually had to catch herself to stop from laughing. Even knowing Trelawney was a true Seer still didn't make this waffle intimidating in the least, but she despised Umbridge too much to agree with her on any level so she held it in.

She turned away and began asking some students questions, while Trelawney stalked over to Harry and snatched his dream diary away, proclaiming in a carrying voice for all to hear that even his most mundane dreams were filled with fortunes of his death.

"Yeah, there it is," James said tartly, least she could always fall back on that one, though how she managed to make that less believable every time was an actual achievement on some level.

Harry was having a hard time feeling sympathy for her during this, and when they were finally released and entered Umbridge's own class, the woman was humming.

"Urgh, having to listening to croaking all lesson, I'd rather live with a cicada," Sirius rubbed at his ears in thought.

They took their seats in the back and pulled out their books, while the teacher instructed those hopeful few who'd left their wands out not to do this very thing.

"I'm not sure if that's ignorance or delusions," Remus sighed.

They were to begin chapter two now.

Still smiling to herself, she set about some papers on her desk. Harry began flipping mindlessly through until the thought occurred to him if there were enough chapters to keep this going all year, and he was just flipping to check on that when he noticed Hermione's hand raised again.

"So were there?" Lily asked.

"Don't know, never checked," Harry shrugged.

"Even if there weren't, I'm honestly wondering if she'd have just made you reread it from the start or something," Remus rolled his eyes.

Umbridge took a different approach this time and approached her instead, bending down on her level as Hermione told she'd already read chapter two.

When Umbridge told her to go on to the next one then, Hermione stated she'd read the whole book.

"Man I wish I was more surprised, actually I'm just sad for the wasted time," James sighed.

Umbridge looked mildly surprised as she then asked Hermione what the author had said about counter-jinxes in chapter fifteen then?

Hermione gave the accurate answer at once, and Harry saw Umbridge was impressed against her will.

"People get that a lot around her it seems," Sirius mused, he didn't always like Hermione either, but she never failed to impress him with her knowledge at least.

Hermione kept going though, that she did not agree with Mr. Slinkhards interpretation of counter-jinxes and his statement they were only used as another form of jinx-

Umbridge cut her off this wasn't up for discussion.

"That was already established," Lily cocked her head to the side as she tried to understand, "what was the goal of her doing this?"

James shushed her and read quickly to find out, if anyone could find a way to push Umbridge's buttons and make something interesting happen in that class, he'd bet on Hermione.

Hermione tried to say something else, but Umbridge cut her off by taking five points from their house, while Harry demanded what for? Ignoring Hermione's warning for him not to get involved.

"She is sitting right next to you when she started this," Remus rolled his eyes, "don't tell me she really thinks you'd stay out of it."

Umbridge gave the answer for disrupting class pointlessly.

"She simply asked a question of what she was supposed to do now she's done with the work," Sirius tried for an innocent tone, ineffective as he wasn't likely to receive an answer for that anymore than Hermione.

She was going to teach them a Ministry-approved method that did not include inviting students to give opinions on things they didn't understand.

"Every bit of that was the most ludicrous thing I've yet heard her say," Remus said faintly.

"I particularly like the part they're not supposed to have opinions on what's being 'taught'," Sirius sneered.

"She read the whole book, how can she still try to make that claim!" Lily demanded.

"I'm beginning to wonder if there's something conceded about her," James said deadpan.

Their previous teachers, with the exception of Quirrell, would never have passed an inspection-

Harry cut off Quirrell had been great, except the fact that he'd had Voldemort's head sticking out of the back of his own.

"I'm actually wondering how many of the students knew that at the end of the year anyways," Remus suddenly blinked in surprise.

"Not the point," Harry grumbled.

Umbridge hardly acknowledge what he'd said except to give him another week of detentions.

Lily made a guttural, maddening noise of frustration for Harry suffering through that all over again, and she vented on the only person available. "Harry James, stop antagonizing her! It's clearly done you no good, after multiple people have warned you to stop, and you are suffering more consequences than doing any good!"

Harry flushed with anger for a moment, considered snapping back he was doing more good than anyone else was even bothering to try, but then considered the fact that snapping at her would achieve nothing. His mother was simply angry with the situation and he did not want to start yelling at them like he had been his friends in the past, so he simply held his tongue and nodded absently, also failing to mention whatever he did he couldn't go back and stop himself from doing it here now could he.

The first consequences of this came up at dinner that night, where Fred's prediction came true at once and Angelina caused such a racket with her yelling at him over having to miss another practice that McGonagall swopped in and interceded, taking points away at once for all the noise in the middle of the Great Hall. Several Ravenclaws at the table behind were still watching the show.**

Angelina wasn't deterred, saying he deserved it for another detention ruining her regime.

McGonagall turned sharp eyes on Potter, demanding who this detention was from, and very clearly displeased at the answer as she took another five points away.

"Who takes away house points after you find out someone has detention?" James demanded in outrage. "What's McGonagall playing at, he's already suffering enough for this!"

"I guess she did warn him not to continue messing with her," Remus sighed, "this is her way of punishing him for disobeying her as well."

"That did not make this feel better," Sirius scowled.

Harry tried to protest he was already being punished enough, but McGonagall wouldn't hear it, claiming detentions didn't seem to work on him so maybe this would.

"The worst part is she doesn't even know what's going on in those detentions," Lily groaned miserably, just begging for the sharp eyed woman to spot Harry's hand and raise hell for it any day now.

She warned them both to confine the shouting to the pitch before departing.

"I do love how she says confine shouting at Harry, not stop it," Sirius muttered.

Harry slammed into his seat beside Ron in a fuming mess as he demanded how it was fair he was getting his hand sliced open and losing points?!

"Maybe she wouldn't if she knew that part," James seethed.

Ron was sympathetic for him, saying she was out of order with that one.

"Are we really the only ones insisting on how dumb it is you haven't mentioned this," Lily demanded. "What about Hermione?"

"Still haven't told her yet either," Harry muttered as he shifted uneasily in his seat, still wishing this would stop being mentioned all together.

Hermione, however, merely rustled the pages of her Daily Prophet and said nothing.

"So she does know?" Remus yelped at this glossed over development.

"I guess Ron did tell her at some point," Harry blinked in surprise, he'd been too angry to realize what he was saying to whom at the time. "Honestly I'm just happy she didn't give me another go to Dumbledore speech, so I'm grateful I wasn't around when she did find out."

Nobody agreed with him, though clearly repetition wasn't doing any good regardless.

Harry snapped at her that he thought their head of house was in the right then?

Hermione answered cooly that she wished Harry wouldn't get points taken away, but she also wished he'd stop losing his temper around Umbridge.

"Hermione was the one who started the last two fights!" Sirius couldn't help but defend. "Harry more than likely would have sat in the back of the class and not said a word if it wasn't for her."

"You can't blame Harry's action on what Hermione decides to do," Lily scolded.

"Doesn't help one of his mates isn't trying to fix this problem either," Remus shrugged.

Harry did not speak to Hermione all through their next class, but all memory of the fight evaporated when he walked into Transfiguration and first spotted Umbridge instead of McGonagall.

James actually began wriggling in place in sudden excitement. If he'd put money on anyone giving that toad a run for her galleons it would be McGonagall, there was no way she could push her around like she just had to Trelawney.

The three watched almost eagerly as class began, McGonagall acting as if the extra woman wasn't even there as she instructed Dean to pass out homework, and Lavender to start handing out mice, and warning that vertebrate animals were much harder to-

Harry was distracted as he got his work back and saw he'd made an A.

"And that was with the minimal effort," James applauded, while Lily rolled her eyes at him even if she did agree.

Dean took his seat and mouse and was at once scolded for doing something to it that would wind him up in detention-

"What'd he do?" James demanded on the same breath as he'd finished.

"He was trying to place it on Parvati's shoulder," Harry shrugged.

"Less inventive than I was hoping," Remus sighed.

While Umbridge used the same, hem, hem, cough to try and get attention.

McGonagall turned cold eyes on her as Umbridge began that McGonagall had received the date and time of her inspec-

McGonagall coolly cut across of course she had, otherwise she'd be wondering why the woman was here.

James made a little squee noise when he was done with that response while Sirius was already full blown laughing, he knew McGonagall was his favorite teacher for a reason!

Harry and Remus shared a triumphant smile while Lily said impatiently, "James if you don't keep going, I will," though her eyes were sparkling with their own amusement for their old head of house.

James clutched the book to him protectively as he kept going with glee.

Then she kept going as if nothing had happened, even though Umbridge did the same act again not moments later.

McGonagall didn't even face her this time as she said sharply how Umbridge expected to get an idea of her teaching methods if she kept being interrupted, as she did not permit others to talk while she was.

James couldn't do it though, he immediately burst out laughing again, and this time Lily couldn't deny joining in. This was hardly the fiery pit they wanted to toss Umbridge into for what she'd done to Harry, but even seeing someone hold their own against her in this way was the most satisfying thing that had happened so far!

Umbridge looked as if she'd been slapped, before hastily turning to a fresh page and scribbling furiously.

"I would pay anything to get my hands on those notes," Sirius' grin was slipping past amusement right into evil. "See just what her version of, I need a burn healing charm looks like."

Looking supremely unconcerned, Professor McGonagall addressed the class once more.

Harry wasn't paying much attention to her warnings of the complexity of the larger the animal the harder it was to vanish, he was to busy whispering to his friends how she could get onto him about losing his temper when she wasn't acting much better. There was no anger though, as he grinned at McGonagall, all anger forgotten.

"Technically McGonagall hasn't gained a detention yet, so she's still doing better than you," Sirius smirked even as he was leaning forward eagerly to hear more of this.

At the end of the lesson, Ron was putting away only a wriggling tail,

"It is indeed a good mark he's already got the larger portion of the body by the end of the first day," James agreed absently, his eyes still eagerly hoping for more between Umbridge and McGonagall.

as they began to file out, but hung back when they realized Umbridge was going up to talk to McGonagall. She asked only one question, of how long she'd been at this post?

McGonagall said thirty-nine years in December.

Umbridge jotted this down before saying she'd receive her results in ten days.

McGonagall gave the curt reply of how she couldn't wait as she swept away.

"She really shouldn't act so thrilled, sets a bad impression," Remus snorted.

She barked at the three lingering at the door to get a move on, but Harry swore she smiled as she passed.

"Favorite teacher," James repeated warmly, hoping that would leave some kind of impact on Harry in Umbridge's next class. He wasn't the only one defying Umbridge.

Harry sadly turned up at his next class only to find Umbridge there again, already talking to Grubbly-Plank. She was being asked that this was not her standard position, to which the sub agreed she was only standing in for Professor Hagrid.

"I don't think anyone's yet called him that," Sirius' face crinkled as that registered.

"Does sound kind of weird, even if it is appropriate," Remus agreed.

Harry's spirits sunk as he watched Malfoy approaching as well, knowing he'd love nothing more than to gossip about Hagrid strait to the Ministry.

"He's already been doing that, surely he can't do even worse damage," Lily said with unease even she didn't believe.

Umbridge then asked if Grubbly-Plank knew anything of Hagrid's absence, but the woman was bare on the subject, saying she'd simply been asked to fill in for an unspecified time, she'd agreed, and here they were.

Umbridge waved for her to start the class then, and they continued their work on bowtruckles as Umbridge went around the class and began asking students about magical creatures, to which no one gave a flawed answer. Harry at least felt hopeful none of them were letting Hagrid down.

Remus couldn't help but wince for that, thinking that was far more likely luck depending on the questions she was asking.

Then Umbridge circled back to Grubbly-Plank, asking how a new staff member felt here? Supported, or more ostracized from the everyday crowd.

Grubbly-Plank gave the simple answer she'd always felt welcomed here, never had a problem.

Umbridge looked politely incredulous,

"That she's the only one being treated like scum? Can't imagine why that would be," Sirius snorted.

"I'm sure that's a look," James snorted, his liking for Grubbly-Plank going up somewhat. Sure she was having to stand in for Hagrid, but at least she wasn't going behind his back and trying to rub up to Umbridge, he could respect that.

She then switched to asking of reports she had from injuries in this class, but Malfoy enthusiastically stepped in then, saying that was done to him, he was attacked by a hippogriff.

"At his own stupidity," James emphasized. "Everyone seems to skip that bit!"

Umbridge began almost happily jotting this down, while Harry shouted over at them it was because Malfoy was being too stupid to listen to Hagrid before it happened.

"Oh, thank you Harry," James groaned, that hadn't been what he meant at all.

Harry shrugged without remorse.

Umbridge turned a pleased smile on him as she gave him another week of detentions.

"What was that one even for?" Lily all but screeched. "Doesn't she still have to give a reason!"

Baby Harry began squirming in unease underneath his toy so she forced herself not to keep going while James pushed on, mostly because the answer was no, that woman didn't have to give a reason to anyone about anything she did. It was becoming quite clear that was the scariest part of all to look forward to.

That evening, despite the late hour, Harry did not return to the common room empty this time, but found Ron and Hermione waiting up for him. Hermione seemed anxious at his visage as she pushed a yellow bowl towards him, telling him it was essence of murtlap and it would help.

Harry wasn't quite sure what that was, but when he put his hand, that was bleeding freely, into it it soothed the pain at once.

Ron still tried to push Harry should tell someone about this, McGonagall would do something, but Harry still wouldn't hear it, pointing out next thing they knew there'd be a decree that the person who questioned Umbridge would get fired.

"That would still cause enough of a stir in the community for it to be relevant and absolutely worth it," James tried to keep his voice even as he explained to Harry. "McGonagall's tough as they come, even if she did have to leave for a time she'd be right back the next day because Dumbledore would never let that stand, and he'd have support from those realizing how ludicrous this all is getting."

"Please tell me you've been seeing reports in the Daily Prophet about more people saying what a problem this is," Lily agreed.

Harry just shrugged though, Hermione only passed along very certain things, and she hadn't said anything about this. If the wider wizarding world did care about what was going on, he wasn't hearing about it.

Ron tried to think of some way to argue, but then closed his mouth back.

Hermione hissed what an awful woman she was, they really should do something about her.

"Tie her to the Whomping Willow?" Sirius suggested at once.

"Transfigure her into a cat and introduce her to Fang?" James smirked.

"Introduce her to the mermaids of the Black Lake," Remus said just a touch bitterly.

"See how long she could survive in the Forbidden Forest," Harry envisioned the fun.

"Poison?" Lily couldn't seem to stop herself tacking in much to all the boys amusement.

Ron had suggested poison,

"Ha!" Lily pumped a fist in triumph, "two against you lot!"

"That's fair," Sirius miraculously gave in.

"Can it at least be a slow acting one?" James contended.

"I can work that," Lily agreed.

but Hermione said she'd meant something more practical about her horrid teaching habits, how they weren't learning any Defence this year.

"Well I mean, she's not wrong," Remus snorted.

"Yet I don't really see how that's so different from your first two years either," Sirius sighed.

Ron couldn't see a way around this, she had the job and that clearly wasn't changing any time soon.

"At least until the end of the year," Lily still looked for that bright spot.

Hermione shot Harry a nervous look before beginning to tell what she was thinking today,

"Should I be worried that's how this is starting?" James looked bemused as he kept going.

that they should just learn DADA themselves.

"That's really not that far fetched an idea," Remus shrugged, "we had to do it a few years as well. Our teachers never got to the level of trying to kill us mind you, but they weren't all stellar either."

"I don't know, remember Novak? Considering how many spells he used backfired on himself, I think at some point that counts as attempted murder when he still encouraged us to trust him," Lily shrugged.

Ron scoffed at the idea of doing more extra homework, they were already behind as is.

Hermione said this was more important than homework.

"Hang on," Sirius mimed cleaning out his ears, "alright read that bit again."

James ignored him.

The boys goggled at her saying such blasphemy, Ron insisting she'd always said homework was the most important thing in the universe!

Hermione brushed them off for being silly,

"She had yet to say otherwise," Harry rubbed at his ear at all her remembered lectures.

stating this was about learning to defend themselves from what was out there.

Harry looked honestly bemused Hermione had taken his words to heart like that, no matter how much he still vouched for them being true.

Ron still wasn't on the idea, saying sure they could look up jinxes and practice them, but-

"Just like you did at the end of last year," James agreed, "that seemed to help you out loads, even with a competent if murderous teacher."

but Hermione said it would be all the better if they had a teacher, someone who already knew a boat load of spells and could correct them if they were doing it wrong.

Harry began if she was talking about Lupin,

"Naw, you're the first teacher he thought of Moony," Sirius chuckled.

"Shut up Padfoot," Remus said around a smile.

but Hermione at once said that wouldn't work, he couldn't come around often enough to be of help.

"Not with that Umbridge woman about anyways," Lily said grimly, as it had honestly been a good idea for a moment for Dumbledore to summon him to the castle at his random choosing, and just incidentally running into Harry and his friends, for a few hours, no one in the school would really question that too much if it had worked out that way. That pink frosted lump of dragon dung though would put a wrench into anything like that.

Harry couldn't imagine who else she was talking about, but then she said him of course.

Harry looked at his dad in bewilderment, before looking at the other three who all looked just as surprised at the answer as him to his relief.

"Honestly, for a moment there I thought she was leading up to herself," James snorted.

"I mean, I suppose she's not got the wrong idea," Lily pulled gently on a strand of hair as she thought about it, "but no offense love, I haven't really seen you with the patience yet to be teaching anyone much."

"Ron was better at teaching you chess than you were explaining how a phone worked," Sirius snorted in agreement.

"Oh stop picking on him," Remus scolded, though Harry hardly looked offended, he still had a politely puzzled expression on his face like he was still nursing the idea and had hardly heard them. "I don't find it a bad idea at all, Harry was the only thirteen year old I've ever seen to manage a Patronus, even you two hadn't managed that until fifth year to find out what you were going to turn into only a few months later. If Harry could master that, I'm sure passing that knowledge along wouldn't be much of a challenge."

"There's a difference between being a good student and being as good a teacher," Sirius shrugged, but he backed down altogether as Harry was starting to look a little hurt they were still giggling more than anything at the idea.

James kept himself going in hopes Hermione would come to some conclusion this should be more a group effort between the three than Harry starting secret lessons to teach these two anything.

Harry was stunned at the idea, turning to Ron for some backup, but he seemed just as keen on this as Hermione now she'd pointed it out.

Harry began laughing it off, saying what good would he do, while Hermione said in exasperation to think of all he'd done.

"Really Harry, you apparently spent all summer complaining about this bit, but you need this part explained," James rolled his eyes.

When Harry still didn't get their meaning, Ron started to laugh he didn't want someone this stupid teaching him, before beginning loudly of all his accomplishments, like second year killing the Basilisk and Riddle.

Harry tried to interrupt that had been Fawkes and-

"I really am loving the reverse of this conversation," Sirius gave a forced smile. "How are you the one saying you shouldn't get credit for doing this now, when it was you shouting at them you did all this single handedly to them at that house?"

Harry was scarlet by now, both from remembered shock of his friends throwing this at him, and how true that comment was that put on the spot he still didn't want to admit all the things he'd done no matter how angry he'd been he'd felt ignored.

"Can't have it both ways," Lily told him gently as she seemed to read his mind.

Ron completely ignored him and was still going on, coming up with fourth year and everything he'd done there as well, he and Hermione were smirking by the end as Harry felt his temper rising, he wasn't even sure where the anger was coming from.

"Actually neither am I," James frowned lightly from the book to Harry now. "At most they're still pulling your leg, what's the anger for?"

Harry brushed at his scar without comment, a deep look in his eyes that shot a thrill of fear through James instantly promising him he actually didn't want to know the answer, so he quickly moved on.

He began telling them how he'd blundered through all that, not because he was any good at Defence, he'd always had help and- stop laughing at him!

Remus let out a low whistle of surprise as he told Harry, "when you get angry, you really ramp yourself right to the top at once."

"Harry doesn't do anything halfway," Sirius said halfheartedly, Harry leaning back into the couch looking miserable he'd been caught shouting at them again, and they hadn't done anything even remotely close to deserving it this time.

He lunged to his feet so fast he knocked the essence of murtlap away, now practically shouting at them they didn't understand, none of that had been skill when he'd fought Voldemort, that Cedric had been just as good as him and he'd died so if they were insinuating he'd messed up and Harry had somehow done something better-

James had winced at every blow Harry dealt his friends, of all the pain and fear his son had suffered without anyone there to help, how even hearing it first hand hadn't quite left them with the reality Harry had lived through. To them it was all in a distant future, something they hoped never had to happen to him and so without underplaying the events happening they kept pushing past these terrible moments because it would ultimately help him to remember them just to find a way he'd never have to live through them. Most of all, James wanted more than anything for Harry never to have to witness what had happened in that graveyard, to Cedric.

Ron looked aghast Harry had come to the conclusion they were having a go at Cedric.

Harry was aware, and very grateful no one had snapped at him for this in here. He distantly saw himself doing these things, pushed into this uncontrollable anger from something he didn't understand, but one truth stood out his friends would never insinuate any such thing, so he was grateful for the silence ringing in here.

Hermione was near tears now as she insisted this was exactly the reason they needed to learn, he was the only one who had ever faced V-Voldemort.

"Well there's a distraction if ever there was one," Sirius blinked slowly to refocus off of Harry's anger, how everything he'd said had been all too real.

It was the first time Hermione had ever said Voldemort's name, and for some reason this calmed Harry. He sat back in his seat, his hand now throbbing worse than ever and gazed at the broken glass and essence of Murtlap now seeping into the carpet.

Hermione got her feet as if to go to bed, quietly asking him to just think about it.

Lily opened her mouth, wanting to say something in comfort as well as push for a change of subject, but Harry was still looking miserable and rubbing hard at his scar again, so she was afraid to push him while he was too vulnerable.

Harry nodded silent agreement now as she went off to bed, Ron following suit. Harry repaired the bowl with a quick spell, but could do nothing for more medicine for his hand.

"Wonder how she got hold of that," Sirius happily shot off, as always just looking for something to say in the awkward silence.

"She's too proud asking the house-elves for a batch," Remus played along, "I more imagine she might have asked Madam Pomfrey for some, given a vague reason as to why she wanted it."

"I'll buy that," Sirius said, looking hopefully at Harry like he was hoping for confirmation, but even if he had ever bothered to ask Harry spoke nothing for or against the idea.

He was more exhausted now than when he'd stepped in, but still he forced himself to climb up the stairs rather than sleeping in the common room, and had another restless night of dreams full of locked corridors, and waking to his scar prickling again.

Harry twitched harder than ever in his seat, his eyes swimming with pain as he yearned to understand how it all fit together, and terrified of learning the answer.

HPHPHPHPHP

I probably came off pretty anti-government in this chapter, and I swear I'm not actually trying to whip up a rebellion and start an anarchy, I just always found it really extreme that clearly since it's conception Hogwarts seemed to have stood as it's own body, but suddenly the government was stepping in and causing a ton of reforms, and the public seems generally okay with this? Of course the Daily Prophet likely didn't post more outrage than a couple people quitting, I don't even know how it would have been put into the narrative, I'd just have liked to see more people be confused and angry about this sudden regime change going on inside the most popular wizarding school in Britain.

*I was actually never very good at English, I have no clue what the actual answer was, thank you for nothing four years of high school.

**I pointed this out in the last book, but this is now a blatant mismatch of the house tables. Last time it was the Hufflepuffs on their other side as Harry had to walk past them, this time it's Ravenclaws? Someone must have been right in saying it does switch up on a regular basis.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #Marauders #Jilly #OotP #James Potter #Remus lupin #Sirius Black #Lily Potter #The LIfe that Never LIved

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in-tua-deep · 5 years ago

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How would Ravenclaw! Klaus react to the ghosts in Hogwarts? Like, would he ignore them until he realizes everyone else can see them? Does he discover that he can make ghosts corporeal and/or levitation and telekinesis now that he's not on drugs? Does he accidentally talk to a ghost that no one else can see, like the ghost of a muggle, and everyone thinks he's crazy? Basically, what are your Klaus headcannons for your HP AU? (Sorry if this was too long, I've just been thinking about this alot.)

asdfFGDH no worries - I also like the idea of Ravenclaw!Klaus but for the purpose of this au he is a baby Slytherin bless his heart

okay okay okay

So the thing is, while the kids stay at the school for winter break and that’s fine, they have to go somewhere for the summer. Headmistress McGonagall took them for the remainder of the summer before they went into their first year, yeah, but she wasn’t exactly planning on housing seven magical kids. She was just the best bet to transfigure them seven beds (can you say bunk beds?) as a temporary measure

The summer between first and second year they end up with the Weasleys who have an empty nest after Ginny moved out. They have room for seven magical kids at least, even if they kind of tiptoe around one another and it’s kind of an awkward placing

Molly Weasley is very physically affectionate and loud. The kids are very used to violence and getting yelled at so this is not a fantastic combination. Five thinks Arthur Weasley is an idiot of the highest degree after several questions regarding muggle things (and the other won’t say it but they’re kind of thinking it as well) not to mention their general wariness of male parental or authority figures.

Diego volunteers to cook with Mrs. Weasley and likes it but then immediately feels guilty because that’s something he did with Grace and he misses her so he swings wildly between liking Mrs. Weasley and hating her for not being Grace and then feeling guilty for liking her AND guilty for hating her and it’s a vicious cycle

Luther still resents the fact that they can’t go home, even if he’s starting to clue in to the fact that the way Reginald treated them was way beyond not normal and that he’s actually way safer than he’s ever been before? It’s weird and he feels guilty for what he perceives as disloyalty for enjoying himself and having fun and so he’s kind of moody like Diego is

(this combination is somewhat explosive oops. at least they don’t share a room unlike they did at McGonagall’s place)

now this is a somewhat long winded way of saying that during the summer, the Weasley kids do come and visit their mother of course! And, one fateful day, one half of a matched pair shows up to cheerfully cause chaos. George Weasley comes home with a big smile and free samples from the shop to distribute among the little kiddies under his parents roof - have to keep them on their toes after all!

And Klaus sees ghosts. Which, if you said this to any wizard or witch, they would nod and tell you that they also see ghosts! Except Klaus sees more than the ones like Nearly Headless Nick and the Bloody Baron. He sees souls that are only wispily tied to the world, who haven’t had time to solidify their presence. Who follow behind their family.

Now, Klaus doesn’t mention this. It’s not normal, after all, and all of the Hargreeves have agreed to keep their... extra issues under wraps in case the grown ups decide to return them or something, or decide they aren’t magic after all, or whatever. They’re eleven going on twelve they’re allowed to be afraid.

So Klaus doesn’t mention anything when the red headed man comes in followed by an identical (albeit slightly younger) man. Klaus only cottons onto the fact that this man is a ghost because Molly Weasley introduces George to them and not the other one. No one notices the other one. And they’ve seen pictures, they know that there used to be Fred-and-George until the war happened and then there was only-George.

(related: Klaus is actually very happy with the wizarding world ghosts and also very pissed off about them. On the bright side, the killing curse leaves no visible wounds! So there’s not as many incredibly disturbing traumatizing ghosts to look at! Downside here is that Klaus cannot tell if a ghost is a ghost. Unless they’re wearing fancy ass historical period clothes :/

Klaus memorizes pretty much all the years students out of sheer self defense. If there someone who Klaus knows Is Not a Student, he just quietly asks the nearest sibling who is In The Know about his powers

He gets anxious when they’re out in like, hogsmeade or diagon alley though, or when there are a lot of strangers. his general rule of thumb is to only interact with people his siblings interact with, or people who he touches first. He’s perfected the ‘accidental bump’ move thank you

The other sibs are all very accommodating because if Klaus’s secret gets out, then all their secrets get out)

Anyway so Klaus’s modus opperandi is to ignore ignore ignore! Usually if ghosts don’t realize he can see them, they leave him alone. Unfortunately, Klaus is sharing Fred-and-George’s old room with Ben (they organized themselves this way so that Ben can wake Klaus up when he has nightmares)

and Fred floats up to reminisce while Klaus is in there and Klaus would ignore him except he keeps making comments and looking sad and just UGH and he’s lurking in front of the door and Klaus can’t just walk through him to leave. That’s weird and gross. So eventually, eventually, Klaus snaps at him “Can you please move?”

and he’s tired and he had nightmares last night (he can’t just ask Five to carve the good dream runes into some random lady’s son’s bed) and he just wants to go downstairs okay?? and he’s not thinking about it and the guy looks young and friendly and almost alive and it just slips out

and Fred stands there in shock for a solid second before finally whispering a simple - “You can see me?”

and this is a mistake

Fred tries to convince Klaus so hard to tell George and to pass messages and and and - he’s just so excited! He’s been following George around, watching him wallow in grief and watching his family wallow in grief and he’d thought that ghosts were just. Ghosts. He didn’t realize it was even possible, this invisible existence. He’s been silent for so long

But Klaus is a traumatized eleven year old okay he is Not About Any of This

eventually Fred gets it into his head that he’s freaking the kid out and softens, because Fred’s always been pretty good with kids anyway. He listens when Klaus haltingly explains why no one can know and then kind of hedges, because Fred is really nice, so he makes a deal

He’ll tell George about Fred, but only when he’s 17 and a legal adult in wizarding society with no chance of being sent back into Reginald’s grasp. Fred thinks this is stupid, but he’s waited fourish years already and didn’t expect to have any chance so (and Klaus is very adamant about keeping away from his ex-Dad and Fred knows there’s a reason)

anyway Fred follows Klaus when he goes back to Hogwarts to start second year. Well, kind of. He splits time between the shop/lurking after George and then going to bug Klaus. Klaus is very resistant to this at first, because if the other ghosts realize he can talk to Fred, then they’ll want to talk to him.

Fred fixes it though by basically just going around (because Fred is still legendary and his pranks are to be feared and all the ghosts in Hogwarts uniforms with haunted eyes that fell defending their school know that) and warning them off. He takes requests and messages and passes them to Klaus to write down in a notebook to be distributed when Klaus hits 17 - so Klaus isn’t bothered by any ghosts

besides being bros with Fred is actually a very excellent thing to be because Fred knows everything about the school. He knows all the secret passageways and all the trick steps and trap doors and empty rooms. He mentions missing having a map in passing, but tells Klaus it would have been so much cooler to have an invisible ghost to scout ahead and warn them about professors or anyone coming

Klaus doesn’t keep Fred secret from the others, so the whole family gets to benefit from Fred’s vast knowledge

(Klaus’s written test grades increase, to the bafflement of his professors - it certainly helps having a ghost to help you cheat!

none of the family are above cheating tbh, they are all very wary of the concept of failure in general and are willing to do a lot to avoid becoming acquainted with the consequences of failing)

Klaus probably figures out making ghosts corporeal when he’s hmm. 15? There is. a lot of drama in Klaus’s fifth year and it’s stressful and there is an Incident where Fred going corporeal saves Klaus’s life

(Fred helps out a lot in Klaus’s fifth year, actually, the kids would probably be in serious trouble without him)

anyway this sparks another freak out where Fred says they HAVE to tell George - because this changes everything!! They fight and don’t speak for like two entire weeks before Fred comes back and grudgingly apologizes. After so long hanging around the Hargreeves, he knows very well that they were Super Fucking Abused and are fearful of being returned for Good Reason

so Fred gets to be the one that Klaus practices with and figure out corporeal ghost stuff with

I’m going to say no levitation/telekinesis in this au (pending the results of season two maybe?) but I will say that the first year flying class? Klaus fucking excels. You think about Klaus on a broom and it should be a disaster, but Klaus is the best flyer in Hogwarts, he treats the broom almost as an extension of himself

Slytherin keeps trying to recruit him onto the quidditch team but Klaus always laughs it off saying that he’s not a jock - also his flying skills do not translate into catching/throwing skills thanks. He’s graceful as all fuck but if you try throw him a quaffle or whatever, he will drop it

i feel like it should be noted that with all seven of them, the Hargreeves could form their own quidditch team lmao

But yeah to sum up, Klaus ignores ghosts (his housemates tease him about being scared of ghosts and he laughs them off), he does discover his ability to make ghosts corporeal due to no drugs, no levitation/telekinesis, he can absolutely see ghosts that wizards can’t see (and not every wizard/witch who dies becomes the wizarding version of a ghost), and I have headcanons about Klaus being very good on a broom lmao

#ask me #anonymous #hogwarts au #tua au #tua/hp crossover #the umbrella academy #klaus hargreeves #fred weasley #the weasleys #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #ben hargreeves #my usual rambling to get to the point #long post #in tua deep

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youngbloodlisk · 4 years ago

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so this doesn't have a title and it isn't relating to any fandom or anything. it's just something i wrote like....mid-2019? used random names and stuff cause i didnt know who to write it for. and i just found it in my notes app lol so i thought i'd share in case anyone would be interested

+ i'm on mobile so i'm immensely sorry for the lack of a keep reading tab

word count: 1.1k~

warnings: death, cheating, manipulation, the guy is an asshole and attacks the girl's insecurities (worth, body), girl blames herself

"Hello?" I answer the call as cheerily as I can. It had been a less than enjoyable day that gloomy February 8th.

"Hi, Anna, it's Lindsay." The sound of my boyfriend's mother's voice lifts my spirits a bit.

I know it's Jared's birthday but he always tells me to pretend it's any other day and if I dare go out of my way for him he won't talk to me until March. I know he's kidding, but I always hope he'll let me do something for him one day.

"Hey, Mrs. Arthur. What's up?"

"Well, it's Jared's birthday, as I'm sure you know. We're planning a surprise party for him, and I was hoping you'd be able to help us set up? We're working on it right now. Are you free?"

"Yes, ma'am, I'm free. I'd love to help, I'll be right over!"

"Thank you, Anna!" She hangs up and I grab my keys.

Soon enough, I make it to his house and let Mrs. Arthur know that I'm at the door. She had said not to knock, as to not make Jared (who is upstairs studying in his room with his chem lab partner) suspect anything.

I help them for around an hour setting up decorations and cooking Jared's favorite foods.

His family keep telling me they appreciate my input on the decorations, as I apparently know him "so much better" than any of them do.

"Ok, I think it's all good. Anna, if you wanna go on upstairs and get him? Just tell him that I said dinner is ready." Mrs. Arthur gives me a wink as I nod and start up the stairs.

I walk all the way to the end of the hall until I reach the door I've entered a million times before.

It's been forever since we last knocked on each others' bedroom doors before we walked in, so I don't even bother.

I crack the door and open it slowly, expecting to see two people sitting at his desk working.

Instead I see my boyfriend and his lab partner (Carissa), both half naked, making out on his bed.

When they heard the door open they jump away from each other and look at me.

I stare into the eyes of the man I trusted for two years.

I had told him so much, things I hadn't even told my best friends.

Wasted so much time, money, energy, and love on this man.

This man who took everything we had, everything he made me think we had, and threw it in a fire.

My brain files through how many of the weird things he's said make sense now.

The amount of lies he told me.

The amount of loving looks that were practically nothing more than a theatrical act.

The way he manipulated my emotions, made me fall in love with him and trust him with everything I had, made me feel special to him and loved by him.

It's all just... appalling.

How could a human being be so... easily used? How could I have been so stupid?

And I physically feel my heart break.

"Anna, it's not what you think-" Jared immediately begins lying to defend himself.

Carissa simply looks annoyed.

I spare no strength slamming his door before quickly making my way down the hall and the stairs.

"Anna, wait!" Jared yells from the top of the stairs.

I halt immediately, so used to obeying what he tells me to do... I don't even realize that I can still walk out.

All of his family are watching in confusion.

Jared runs down the steps, messy hair and shirtless, which only confuses the family more.

I turn around, the tears in my eyes threatening to escape.

"That was not what you think it was-"

"Then what was it, Jared? How are you possibly gonna explain that to me?"

"She... I..."

"I thought so." I turn back around and head for the door but his next words truly stop me in my tracks, without order this time.

"You shouldn't be so surprised, Anna! You were never good enough for me, you knew that."

I hear his mother begin to scold him.

"Mom, stop. She always knew I deserved better than her. She'd never be enough for me. No matter how much of her there happened to be." The extra jab at my body feels like an extra arrow to the chest. "She'll never be enough for anyone. She should expect something like this to happen to her with anyone she dates." He begins to raise his voice. "Who wouldn't need better while they're still pity-dating her? Why am I the bad guy? Why am I the bad guy when you just weren't enough for me, Anna?"

"Jared Arthur!" His mother sounds utterly horrified at her son's behavior.

"I'm out." Jared's shoulder hits mine as he storms past everybody, grabbing his hoodie from beside the door, and slamming the door on his way out.

A few seconds of silence follows, before his mom is by my side muttering her apologies and how disappointed she is in him.

I shake my head.

I push her away as kindly as possible and leave without a word.

Simply trying to make it to my car without crying.

I go to sleep early that night.

The pain is still evident in the tear stains covering about half of my pillow.

I'm woken up by my ringtone, a call from an unknown number.

I groggily answer with a "Hello?".

As in, 'Hello, what absolute garbage is waking me up by calling me at 3am?'

The more the man, the police officer, on the phone talks to me, the more I wake up until I'm crying once again.

"Hello, Anna? This is Officer McNab. I'm sorry to inform you that Mr. Jared Arthur is deceased as of 10:30pm last night. There was an unreported car crash. You are on his emergency contact list. I'm very sorry to wake you, ma'am, especially bringing news such as this. I apologize. But I have to know if you are related to Mr. Arthur or not."

"N-No, sir. I'm his girlfr-... I'm his ex-girlfriend." My voice shakes and it's near impossible to form a sentence.

"I see. Again, I'm very sorry, ma'am."

"Thank you for c-calling me, officer."

"Of course ma'am. Thank you for your time." He hangs up and my phone drops from my hand, seemingly in slow motion.

10:30pm. Not long after he left the house, driving away because he was mad at me.

It was me.

I killed him.

#ciiikbwork

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blackasmidnightcats · 5 years ago

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Tagatha Dads Au

Kinda like the Uncle au but Dads! Edition

Basically August Sader vs Arthur Pendragon

August is one of Callis's oldest friends and was her closest colleague when they were both teaching.

They were always in contact with one another and after Callis adopts Agatha and August finally meets the baby girl, he decides to be the official unofficial Dad to the girl and has been very involved with Agatha's life since.

Callis and August's relationship is up for debate (personally I'd want them to stay as very close friends dedicated to their brilliant daughter but they could still end up together)

Ever since getting divorced, Arthur has dedicated his remaining life to two things: Tedros and his company. He doesn't feel like dating anyone anymore.

He's more of a Mom really than a Dad. Fusses over Tedros constantly.

Especially when the boy gets all depressed.

Lives away from Tedros but skypes constantly. Misses his boy dearly.

Does not notice his childhood friend, now his secretary, Gremalaine's very obvious feelings for him. She doesn't push.

He's also a recovering alcoholic and tries to remain clean for Tedros but he does sometimes indulge in wine when work gets too much.

August and Agatha love each other to the moon and back. He loves to spoil her constantly and WILL make anyone suffer if they hurt Agatha in anyway.

When Agatha becomes August's student, she made him promise her not to treat her any differently than any other student. He doesn't in his own class but will brag about her to anyone in school when their class is over.

He's very fashionable with turtle necks, coats, and suits as his main aesthetic.

Is concidered a Silver Fox.

August and Arthur have not met yet but they have heard of each other. Athur has heard of him because he was Tedros's teacher and August has heard of Arthur because who doesn't

They officially meet when Arthur was called for a Teacher-Parent meeting and both have decided that they did not like each other at all.

They're content with the fact that they never have to spend time with one another beyond school. Their children proved otherwise.

August begged Dovey to let Agatha change partners for a project because he will not have his little girl and that Pendragon boy stay in the same room alone for even a second. She'd kill him, he says.

Dovey dooesn't change it because Tedros has been fluncking her subject and Agatha was the best bet to help him.

Arthur didn't know about August and Agatha's relation so he was indifferent to it. He was concerned when he heard that Agatha was the one the got Tedros and Sophie together and that she was still friends with Tedros's worst ex though.

They didn't really think that Agatha and Tedros would get any closer but Merlin loved to point out to Arthur that Tagatha cut together. Arthur thought that he was delusional.

August and Reaper agree that Agatha was better off without getting involved with the Pendragon boy and couldn't wait for the project to be over.

Tagatha get together and both Dads are in shock. They couldn't process the idea.

Arthur is shocked because his son was now dating the girl that got him together with the ex that almost sent Tedros insane. What was his boy thinking?!

August was shocked because he'd never expected that Agatha would date anyone while still studying and to a boy like Tedros no less.

Everyone, especially the Dads, thought that Tagatha wouldn't last very long. They did and everyone now has to process that they'll have to get used to the idea of Tagatha being together and have to get along with each other.

August and Arthur don't really know what to do whenever they see each other.

Tedros hasn't been doing a good impression on Agatha's family but the boy still tries his best because he loves his girl very much.

Agatha has done a number on Merlin and maybe on Tedros's other uncles but Arthur doesn't completely trust her just yet and might be projecting his own failed relationship with Gwen on his son's relationship.

It takes many several tries but Tedros manages to charm Agatha's family with his sincerity and devosion to Agatha and they all admit that he's okay.

They do threaten him from time to time but it gets more playful and playful cause they know that Tedros would die for Agatha and vice versa.

Agatha has more or less won over Tedros's family already and she suprisingly gets more involved with his family's affairs than wanted.

She had her hand with Arthur, Gwen, and Lancelot's broken friendship.

Arthur has moved into town because he wanted to keep a close eye on Tedros and after Tagatha happened, he somehow finds himself spending more time with Agatha than both of them want.

The reason for this is because Tedros hasn't been having a good year because of some dude named Ryan or something and Agatha's been spending time with Tedros cause she wants to be with her man while Arthur visits his son for the same reasons and they kinda bond.

Agatha's very patient with Arthur even though she's kinda akward around him and Arthur still doesn't trust this Agatha girl and judges her severely because of it.

They get better but it takes a while and it involves Arthur being a jerk again and Agatha having enough and just calling him out on it and they sort of get more akward because Agatha does not want to handle this and Arthur's pretty ashamed of himself. Tedros took notice and they all just kinda worked it out.

After that dilema though, Arthur and Agatha have been on generally good terms with Arthur thinking that she's the best choice for Tedros and Agatha sort of just became fond of Arthur because he reminds her so much lf Tedros and they both work it out.

August and Tedros were more amusing.

Ever since they started dating, August has been on Tedros's ass subtly.

He sometimes brings up the previous crushes that Agatha had before and poke fun of the boy's less than impressive choice of style and would make Tedros involve in school work that Tedros wouldn't usually take.

He takes it with stride but admittedly all of them were tough but for Agatha then sure, he'll handle it.

Dovey had to intervene but August just found more subtle ways to annoy the boy.

They get together during gatherings and August wouldn't leave Tedros alone.

August finally admits that Tedros could be good for Agatha but only because he knows that Tedros would offer the world to Agatha and he was one of the people that helped Agatha with her confidence issues and that he doesn't want Agatha to change into someone that she's not.

They get better and their banter becomes more playful.

August doesn't know what to do with Arthur though.

They acted civil for more than a few seconds before insults were thrown.

Tagatha doesn't really know what to do because the both of them were being ridiculous.

August has always had this instinctual urge to snark and sass Arthur. He doesn't know if it was because Arthur reminded him of all the uglier sides that his son seemed to have inherited and that very son was now dating his baby girl and maybe he wants to make an example or something but it seemed to be most likely cause that he likes to tell himself.

Arthur is more or less reacting to all of this and it only gets worst.

He really could not believe that this was the man that Agatha looked up to.

But then he chalked it up to the nerves that August might be feeling because Tedros was dating Agatha and Arthur thought that if Agatha was his own daughter he would react the same way too.

Tagatha had a talk with their respective fathers and both agreed to be civil to each other especially in front of the children.

Speaking of children, they both hate it whenever Merlin would talk about that topic. Both were not ready to be grandfathers just yet. It's the only thing that they agree on. Begrudgingly.

August is very annoyed that the whole Pendragon family and friends (lead by Merlin) are all trying their best to make sure that Tagatha stays together. He was more suprised that Arthur was the same.

It all still felt very surreal until they caught Tagatha making-out.

Suddenly everything seemed to be very, very real. And they had the odd thought that they'll be seeing each other for the rest of their lives.

#sge #sfgae #tsfgae #the school for good and evil #school for good and evil #soman chainani #TAGATHA #arthur #august sader #king arthur #au

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chocolate-milk-fanfics · 5 years ago

Text

I ain’t sorry

Warnings: miscarriage, gun violence, kidnapping, cheating, period typical sexism, Implied black reader, and OOCness of characters

Word count: 6095

"You don't love me Tom! So stop acting like you care about me!"

"That's not true and you know it!"

"Then say it Thomas! Prove me wrong! Because you putting your dick in the barmaid while your wife takes care of this shit show you made ain't exactly helping your case!"

"Its not th- Y/n just listen!-"

"Mommy! 'ungry!"

Opening your eyes you met the heterochromic eyes of your twin toddler boys. They stood in front of you with wide smiles and bouncing as the stood at either side of you. Sitting up straight you gave them a wide smile, shoving the memory of the night you left to the back of your mind as ruffled their curly locks. "Oh are you now? Well let's get mommy's two babies food alright?"

"Not 'aby!"

"Yeah! Not 'aby!"

Both of them whined as they followed close behind you. Charles held onto your skirt while Kenji held your hand as you led them to the kitchen. A giggle escaped you as their brown and blue eyes roamed the room for snacks before lunch. They were fraternal twins but alike in every way possible, as expected of twins. Charles was older by 1 hour and had more shaggy hair than Kenji, his left eye was blue and the other brown. While Kenji's hair was more curly, yet easier to manage than Charles, his right eye blue and other brown. Both of them had the same light brown skin, freckles, dark brows, and smile that lit up your world. Not to mention the same scowl and protective fearless nature of their father. And oh, their laugh. Just like his when you were growing up. There was no doubt they were your husband's sons and you never denied it, you could never forget him after all. Even with all the pain he caused, there was so much happiness and your sons were the product of that. "What!? Not baby? But you're my babies!" you teased softly as you began to spread the peanut butter and jelly onto the bread.

The twins looked at each other, an unspoken conversation being shared between them as you made them lunch. Kenji shook his head and pouted as he looked at his brother, the conversation came to an end as Kenji pulled on your skirt. "Not 'aby! We's 'ig 'oy!"

"Kenny stop pulling on Mommy's skirt like that." You said simply as you cut the first sandwich into 4 little triangles like the boys preferred. Charles didn't say anything, seemingly in deep thought as he looked up at you staring at your bare stomach. Since you normally only wore undershirts and a simple loose pair of pants it was no surprise that your stomach was exposed. "And don't be silly Kenny, you and Charlie will always be my babies even when we're all really really old."

"Mommy?"

"Yes Charlie?"

"What's tat 'oo-boo on you tum?"

Glancing down a frown spread across your face as you remember the way you got the wound in the first place. Taking a bullet for Tommy while pregnant wasn't your best choice but when you woke up and found out he was at the Garrison with Grace it made you realize something. That you didn't need no fucking man to make it in the world, not when that man was cheating on you. So that same night, after the showdown with Billy Kimber you bought a ticket out of town and settled down. The countryside was nice after all. No smoke, no cars, no Thomas Shelbys and no stress. It was hard, being a pregnant woman of color starting a new life but you did it and made good honest money as a nurse. Your herb and tea mixtures were known all through London and you were proud to support your boys while helping so many people.

"Mommy?"

Shaking your head you glanced down at. Charlie and smiled apologetically. "Sorry Charlie Mommy spaced out for a bit. What did you say?"

Your sons looked at each other once again and then Charles shook his head. "Never 'ind! Is lunch done?"

Nodding your head you smiled and handed both boys their own plates of food. They giggled and ran off to the living room to eat while they drew pictures. The smile that spread across your face was short lived as you watched as a familiar car pulled up in front of your home. "Boys. Bunker now." You said calmly, soft enough for them not panic but clear enough for them to know you're serious.

The two of them took their plates and papers down the hall with them. Kenji pulled on the secret handle of the fireplace and it open ever so slightly, but wide enough for them to squeeze into before it closed. Once it was securely shut you grabbed a robe and tightly wrapped it around you as a knock sounded at the door. Taking a deep breath you opened the door to look at the familiar blue eyes you fell in love with. "Thomas Shelby, John Shelby, Arthur Shelby, and Pollyanna Shelby what brings you all to my front door step? And how did you find me? Was it Alfie?"

Tommy started into your eyes, and it took everything within you not to crumble and fall into his arms. He was bruised and battered with a red eye and you wanted nothing more than to give him a better treatment than the shit hospital he went to. There were so many things you wanted to do to the Shelby family, most of them pleasant, but right now you just kept your door slightly open and your face indifferent. "I told 'im Y/n about the baby. Why didn't you tell 'im? Where are they?"

"It doesn't matter now, Pol. That's why I left. I couldn't stay there knowing my took a bullet for my ex-husband and in return he slept with the barmaid as I lost my child." you said smoothly as you looked into her brown eyes. Shock spread across her face as she scanned you for any signs for lying, unable to find one she let out a choked sob as Tommy looked at you in pure horror.

"Y-"

"Save it Thomas. I don't want your pity. I don't want your apology. I just want you-"

"Stop it." came his harsh voice as he looked down at the ground.

"Stop what Thoma-"

"Don't! Don't call me that!" he growled. Silence surrounded the lot of you as Tommy breathe became ragged and his eyes became wet. "I thought you were dead, we all did. And after 3 years of being apart, of missing you, the last thing I want to hear you call me is Thomas. I don't care who else calls me it. I just can't handle it from you."

You didn't say anything as you stared into the blue eyes he passed onto your sons, instead you bit your lip as your own eyes got wet. "Tommy you broke my heart. I gave everything. I did everything for you, only to find out from Lizzie fucking Stark you were taking the barmaid to the races. The same thing you promised me when I was 14 and you were 17. You promised me so many things and you broke each and everyone one. Even our wedding vows. I loved you Tommy. No one else! And what did you do!?" You couldn't stop the tears streaming down your face as you began to yell. Shoving Tommy into Arthur you let them keep falling, knowing none of the Shelbys could stand it. "You slept with the fucking barmaid and took her to the places you promised me! How did it feel huh!? How did it feel to find out I was right? Did you feel stupid?"

"Y/n th-thats enough." Polly stuttered softly as she tried to embrace you. You easily shook off her grip and stared into the eyes of the man that broke your heart. The man who was still in shock in his brother's grasp.

"Is it Pol!? Is it!? I told y'all she was a fucking spy from day one and none of you believed me! What changed your mind!? The bullet I lost a baby to!? Or was it the bullet Danny took!? It's funny how for you Shelbys to listen someone has to die. Well did it work? Did you get what you want-"

"Y/n.."

"Do you feel like a man now Tommy? Are you happy with the outcome? You work alone right!? Well look where it got you! Down a kid! Down a wife! Down a loyal servant! Well don't worry. Thomas Shelby! I bet you've gotten plenty of new ones to repeat the process with!" You spat harshly. You knew your boys might be able to hear you, that's why you did your best not to curse as you looked at the people you once called a family. Letting out a soft sob you put your face in your hands and brushed it back to pull the twist you had in your hair out of your face. They snapped straight back into place but you didn't care. You wanted all of them to know you were hurt. "I buried my baby girl. She had toes and fingers and I was about 4 months along according to the doctor. I- I named her Ruby and she could have been beautiful. She could of been happy but instead she's dead, and I hope you all got what you wanted."

With a shaky voice you moved to close the door but before you could a foot was placed in the door. "Y/n wait. Hear us out. Please. Can you let us in? I 'ave some letters from the boys and Finn. They miss their Auntie N/n." John begged weakly, but he knew the effect it had on you. Sniffles left you as slowly opened the door and looked at said letters in John's hand. Snatching them from him and turning around to walking into your home, you missed the weak reassuring smile John gave his family as they stepped in.

The first letter belonged to Finn and as you sat down on your couch you smiled at the mess handwriting of the teenage boy, before you left you were teaching him how to read and write after all. As you opened the letter you could feel the seat next to you sink as Tommy sat, while putting a cigarette in his mouth. "No Tommy."

A sigh escaped him and Pol as they put their cigarettes away and watched you read the first letter with a wet laugh. Finn was your favorite of the Shelby brothers, that much they all knew. He was kind after all and as the Sunflower of Small Heath everyone knew you valued that in a person. When you finished the letter from Finn you moved onto letters from John's kids. They were all short, written by Pol, and asking if you'll come back and reading each one made your heart ache. "I miss all of them so much as well. Not a day goes by without me thinking of them."

"Then come back. We need you." Arthur said softly. There was an edge to his voice you didn't like though, staring into his eyes a frown traveled across your face as realization struck and the sight of faint scars on his neck

"Oh Arthur.." You said softly as you placed the letters down. Standing up you moved to kneel in front of him as you cupped his face gently. Even though you were all adults now you could always read the Shelbys emotions easily. Under your fingers you could feel his pulse hammering against you. "You're hurting. Aren't you?"

A whimper escaped him and just like that you were in his arms as he spoke softly, "It's me 'ead Y/n. I-I"

"Shh.. Fine. You win. I'll be back one day. But for now, let me make you tea. Its with my herbs. The shit doctors give you won't work like my stuff does." You said softly, running your fingers through Arthur's greasy hair. Arthur let you go as he wiped his tears and you stood leaving for the kitchen

"Ain't that right.." Tommy mumbled under his breath as he took out cigarettes again. Hitting the match against the box he lit his cig to life and took a long drag of it. Polly glance at him as he offered a cigarette to her and with hesitation she took a drag from it as well. "Y/n? Did you mean it when you said you'll come back?"

"Yes. Unlike you Tommy I'm not heartless. And I miss the little ones. Finn should be about 15 right now and Ada's little one should be 4 or 5. And Johns kids should be around 6 to 10." You listed as you started the water. "Would anyone else like some tea?"

"Whiskey for me and Tommy please." Aunt Polly said as she took another drag from the cig before handing it back to Tommy, who moved to stand by your fireplace.

"Sorry, I don't keep whiskey or liquor of any kind in my house. Nor do I allow smoking Tommy." You said smoothly as you glanced over your shoulder. "Put it out."

Tommy groaned and knocked on the fireplace a few times before taking one last drag a rubbing the cig against the bricks. Unknown to him, he alerted the twins that it was time to come out. Everything happened in slow motion and the fireplace moved causing Tommy to stumble and the boys to squeeze out with their empty plates. All eyes were on them and the sitting family members all stood as the looked at the two boys that stared straight into their father's eyes. With your back turned to them all in the kitchen you gathered the herbs you needed for Arthur's tea without a clue of what was going on behind you. "Arthur? Do you want any sugar in your tea?"

"M-mommy.." came Charles soft voice. You turned around quickly and looked at your two boys as they stared at their father in fear. Kenji stood in front of his brother protectively despite being horrified of the tall man in front of him. "Mama!"

Tears pooled in both of their eyes but Charles is the one that started bawling. Rushing over to them you gathered them both in your arms as they cried and kissed both of their heads as you lifted them up. "Its OK. Mommy's here. Now let's put you down for a nap. You two did so well in the bunker."

"Y/n. Who are they?" came Tommy's shaky voice and the thought of you moving on from him and being the mother of someone else's kids.

"The two that survived the bullet I took for you." You said without hesitation. Aunt Polly covered her mouth in shock while Arthur and John looked at each other and then Tommy, and you.

"Jesus Tom! 3!? At once!?"

You didn't dare turn around, you didn't want to see their faces. They haven't even been here an hour and yet everything you worked so hard to hide is unraveling. “You never answered my question, how did you find me?”

“Soloman. How do you know ‘im?” Tommy said as his steps got closer. Knowing you wont get out of this you glanced at Polly with pleading eyes, causing her to let out a sigh and place her hand on Tommy’s shoulder.

“Tommy, let's wait and give her a few minutes to get those two up stairs before you start a fight.” Aunt Pol said softly as she led Tommy back to the couches to sit down. But Tommy nudged her hand off of his shoulder and took a step closer to you, his patience running thin as you kept your hold on them.

“No. I'm tired of waiting. Y/n answer my question, now.” Tommy hissed out in annoyance. Charles sniffled and buried his face in your neck his eyes full of tears as Kenji glared at Tommy, eyes just as full of tears.

“‘nside ‘oice!” Kenji called back with a shaky voice, his dislike for Tommy at the moment was clear as day. Arthur chuckled and patted Tommy on his shoulder as you walked toward the stairs.

“‘e’s definitely your son Tommy. Looked ‘bout ready tah fight ya too, all for ‘is mum. What are their names?” Arthur teased. Biting your lip you didn't answer, instead you shifted them in your arms and made your way up the stairs carefully, whispering sweet nothings to them as you did so. You didn't need to ask your boys how they felt. That much was obvious to you as their heads moved on your shoulders to stare at Tommy as you walked, they didn't like the way he talked to you. Once you made it to their shared room next to yours you placed them in their beds and kissed their heads after wiping their tears.

“Nap time boys. If you need Mommy I’ll be down stairs. Don't hesitate to call me if you need something ok?” you said softly as you brushed their curls from their face and kissed them again. “Mommy loves you.”

Giving the boys one last look you closed the door behind you as the got under their comforters. Once you were back down the sound of the kettle going off lead you to the kitchen. “Would anyone else like some tea?”

Polly’s voice came immediately as she smiled at the thought, “The sleepy-time mixture that you used to make every morning for me! I have yet to taste anything as good as yours.” She loved your tea after all. Even though they couldn't see, you nodded anyway as you prepared two separate tea pot, one with Arthur’s mixture and one with Polly’s. When you opened the cupboard you grabbed one of your matching set of 5 and placed it on the tray with the pots of tea, carrying everything into, including some cookies. Placing the tray down on the coffee table, you poured some Arthur his cup first and handed it to him, careful not to spill the hot liquid. Silence was all that could be heard through the home you owned after serving tea to those who wanted it. “You didn't have to take them upstairs you know.”

“Knowing Arthur, Tommy and their… colorful vocabulary I felt like that was the best choice.” You teased softly as you lent back into your seat and crossed your legs, taking a careful sip from your tea. “But never mind that, why did you come searching for me? Why are you all here and what do you want?”

“We need you to comeback.” Tommy said shamelessly. “We’ve grown our business in the past 3 years and now were the third largest bookkeepers. We plan on expanding to London with the help of the Soloman as well.”

“It sounds like you’ve got everything all planned out and know what to do. So what do you need me and herbs-” you rebuked only to get cut off by John as he decided to pour himself a cup of tea.

“Cut the bullshit Y/n, You’re one of the focking best -no, THE focking best- weapon maker we know. Even though Tommy wont admit it, everyone else will when I say you're irreplaceable. We need you back.” John explained clearly.

“I stopped doing that after the boys were born. The only inventions I have left and haven't sold are in the basement.”

“Wait you sold your weapons!? The same ones you made just for the Peaky Blinders?”

“Of course I did. You think making this house with all these secret entrances and paths was free? I sold my old invention from back when I was teen and some newer ones. I do miss weapon making but at the same time I don't. Coming up with new ideas and actually testing them out cost a lot money. And that money I rather use on my baby boys.” you scoffed. Tommy stood up, rubbing his hand down his face as he groaned in frustration. Your inventions were top of the charts, never before seen, easy to hide the use of, conceal and use. And knowing that other people all around London had it in their possession made this process a lot harder. “If it makes you feel any better Tommy the only gang I’ve sold huge loads to was Alfie. He helped me a lot when I was pregnant, even got me workers to build this very house since no one I went to wanted to work for me. So if any of the expansion shit hurts his business in any way I hope you know what you're getting into.”

“Fine. Fine… Fuck. We can work this out. We just need to go back home, have a family meeting and make a plan.” Tommy grumbled as he began to pace back and forth.

“We? No. No. No Tommy. There is no WE in this, not any more. This is your problem. Not mine or my sons.”

“Our sons, Y/n.”

“I said what I said, and I meant it. They're my sons.”

Tommy rolled his eyes and turned to look at you with cold blue eyes of annoyance. He must of thought this would all be easy, but hell hath no fury like a protective mother. “Y/n, now's not the time to argue. We need you back at Small Heath. I need you back.”

“I thought Thomas Shelby needed no one but himself. What changed that? What changed you?” you mocked, causing Polly to take a large gulp of her tea, holding back her laughter as she watched the two of you interact. You were the only person she knew that would step to Tommy, win, and repeat the cycle over and over again. It was amusing to her no matter how old the two of you were. You were a spitfire and a beautiful girl, looks and smarts perfectly dangerous together and you knew it. Polly was the only one watching and listening though as she drank her tea, John and Arthur were too busy stuffing their faces with your cookies at an alarming rate. It was a wonder how they haven't choked yet. Both men stared at each other as a grabbed more cookies and shoved them into their mouths, causing you to roll your eyes. “If I were you I’d slow down. You might choke.”

“Things change Y/n, I changed ok? Now are you coming back or not.” he huffed out, towering over you as he stood at your feet. Your head tilted to the side and you switched the position of your crossed legs as you took a sip from your cup.

“If I come back with you, if I get back with you, you have everything to gain. My home, my inventions, my herbs, my sales, my intellect, my money, and most importantly my sons and I. There's nothing for me with you, Tommy. Nothing but more heartbreak.”

Tommy opened his mouth and then closed it, realizing you were right. A growl escaped him as he threw the only thing in his hand into the fire place, which was the tea cup. The sound of it breaking caused you to jump slightly but you didn't bat an eye. Tension began to rise as you stared into each other's eyes, neither of you backing down. Polly- seeing the way you gripped your tea cup- decided to cut in to calm things down.

“Your sons Y/n, their beautiful. So unique as well, as expected of you, so beautifully different.” she praised with a wide smile as she placed her empty cup down to pour more. At the mention of your sons, you smiled widely and broke eye contact with Tommy who was still fuming.

“They are.” you gushed immediately, a wide yet soft smile traveling across your face as you thought of them. “They love chocolate milk and yoga and they're so protective of each other it's absolutely adorable! They talk in sync sometimes and their laugh! Oh god their laugh, it's just Tommy’s back when we were kids! You should see all the pictures I have of them as babies!” tension began to dwindle as you continued to gush about your sons. But the elephant in the room only seemed to grow bigger.

“What are their names? I ask yah before but yous never answered.”

“Oh! Sorry.” you giggled softly as you drank from your cup finishing the last of your tea, placing it down on the coaster only for Tommy to take it and fill it up with tea from Arthur’s pot. “It’s Charles and Kenji. But I call them Charlie and Kenny. They don't like loud sound that much either.”

“Y-You kept the names.” Tommy said barely above a whisper, almost as a question as he looked at you incredulously. “You kept the names.” his voice was stronger that time but the smell of his cologne was stronger as he embraced you, placing a sudden kiss your lips causing you to melt into his arms. You weren't nearly as over him as you thought, it seemed. “You’re coming home.”

“No Tommy. Not yet at least. If I come back it's on my terms, not yours. I already agreed to come back. Now you just have to wait.”

“My wife and kids aren't going to be away from me Y/n. You're coming home and that's fina-”

“When are you going to understand that this is my home. I built it from scratch and I’m not leaving.”

“I'm not leaving you here.”

“This isn't Small Heath Tommy. I can make my own decisions and I don't need you hovering. I don't need you dictating my life. This is my house, my home, and it was made with my money. You have no authority here.”

No one said a word, Tommy still had you in his arms you still didn’t pull away. Tommy clenched and unclenched his jaw as he stared into your blazing eye. He nodded his head a few times and for once you thought the fighting was over. “Fine. Arthur, you're driving. Aunt Pol, John can you get the boys?”

“Get the boys? Tommy you are not taking my kids from me!” you hissed, squirming in his arms ad you tried to get free of his grasp. His arms moved down to hold your waist and in one swift movement Tommy was standing and you were thrown over his shoulder. “TOMMY! PUT ME DOWN!”

“You're right, I’m not taking our kids from you, Y/n. I'm taking all of you with me. But since I’m feeling nice and you said there were weapons in the basement this will be our holiday home for next month.” Tommy said, completely unfazed by your yelling and kicking as Polly and John hesitated to get the sleeping boys upstairs. You were still in your robe as you thrashed around in Tommy’s arms and knowing that it was getting you nowhere you sighed and resorted to kicking. But before you could get good kick in Tommy’s free arm held your legs in place. When John and Polly came back down the boys were still asleep as they carried them.

“What about the tea and biscuits?”

“Forget the fucking tea and biscuits John. She can make some more when we get home. Aunt Pol’s been taking care of her plants for the longest now.”

“Tommy! Put me down! This is kidnapping!” you hissed lowly, not wanting to wake your boys up, but your words fell on deaf ears. Tommy’s hand was perched on your ass as you continued to squirm around furiously, but a slap on your ass caused you to gasp and still. “Tommy!” John was behind everyone and the last one to leave the house. Since the key to the house was in the foyer he locked the door behind everyone, careful not to wake Kenji. “You can't seriously be kidnapping me and my kids right! Aunt Pol! Are you really ok with this!? I thought you were the voice of reason of the Shelbys! Y’all can't be serious right now! I’M NOT DRESSED! I'M INDECENT!” you pleaded, but Tommy’s grip on you tighten and Arthur opened the car door.

“As long as you sit still you wont get exposed. And if someone does look at you that isn't family, as your husband I have the right to kill them.” Tommy said smoothly as he sat you in the back with him. Polly gently held Charles up for Tommy to pick up, and then he passed Charles to you. You held the sleeping Charles close to you and kissed his forehead as you glared at the male next to you.

“You kill anyone and my boys see it and I’m cutting off your dick Thomas Shelby. You're on thin ice.” a chuckle escaped the man as he took Kenji from John. With his son in his arms Tommy was able to observe the similarities between him and the toddler. His eyebrows were dark and similarly shaped, and even with his eyes closed Tommy could remember the deep blue that Kenji had in his right eye. The boy on his lap was 33% of the proof that you loved him. The other 66% being Charles and Ruby. He was the lucky one. Not the other way around like he always thought. You were smart, loyal, funny, and an amazing inventor as well. He didn't want to think about how wrong he did you, because then he’d end up hating himself even more than he already does. With Charles in your lap, your arms held him protectively as he began to stir. Glaring at the Shelbys around you the thing that calmed you down was when Charles snuggled closer into you. And at the same time Kenji did the same to Tommy, causing his heart to clench and Tommy to hold him tighter, afraid that this was all a figment of his imagination and the worst nightmare he could ever have. The one where his brain shows him everything he’s thought about, everything he’s wanted to have with you. Only for the shoves to start again, just like they did when you left.

But instead, Tommy kissed Kenji’s freckled cheek when he thought no one was looking, being a lot more gentle with the boys than you expected him to be, almost making you happy to be near him again, almost.

“Mama?” came a soft voice from below you. Your dark eyes met the heterochromatic brown and blue of Charles eyes and you smiled.

“Yes Charlie?”

“Are ‘e living wif Daddy nows?”

You knew Tommy heard him and Tommy knew you knew as well. Out of the corner of your eye you could see him watching you, waiting for your response, but you didn't directly look at him. You both knew what your answer was going to be without you even having to say it, Tommy’s smug smile only proved so.

“For now? Yes baby. But just for now. We wouldn't want the chickens to feel lonely now would we?” you whispered back causing a chuckle to escape Tommy. Having enough of his shit you kicked him in the shin, careful not to disturb your sons. Now it was your turn to chuckle as Tommy bit his lip to hold in the sound of pain. Polly laughed softly at the face Tommy was making, and to save himself from further embarrassment he shifted the attention away from him.

“You ‘ear that Johnny boy? She has chickens! Maybe you should take her home instead.” Tommy teased with a smile. John rolled his eyes but the smile on his face was apparent as Tommy laughed, tilting his head back in the process. The same laugh he passed onto your sons came out of him, and if anyone asked you would deny the fact that it was calming to hear. “Now we have to come back, wouldn't want the chickens to starve either.”

Charles fell back asleep in your arms without another word as Kenji’s thumb rested in his mouth. The way their eyes fluttered was a tell told tale to you that they were in a deep sleep. Allowing you the chance to finally speak your mind. “You know. You all have a lot of fucking nerve to come searching for me and then take me from, excuse my language but, my goddamned home. And you have even more nerve that if you think for a second that I’ll just turn over and do what ever the fuck you say. Tommy for one, you look like shit and that tells me just how much control you have over all the shit you've caused. Who the fuck did you double cross this time you bloody idiot.-”

“Ahh, and there she is. It was weird not hearing you curse.” Polly cut you off with a soft chuckle as she lit a cigarette and blew the smoke out away from you and the boys.

“You're all inconsiderate jackasses sometimes, you know that? I have two toddlers to take care of and yet you still want to drag me into this. Tell when the people that hurt you Tommy, did they go after anyone else? Who died? Who got hurt?” you asked calmly, your voice betraying how you actually felt. But even as you ranted, your eyes never left the figures of your sons. “It’s been three years but it seems like the only one who has changed is me. And now you wanna drag me into all of this to solve the mess you made. Well guess what, if you think I’m going to forgive you and come crawling back you have another thing coming Thomas Shelby. I loved you with all my heart and the only thing I got in return was a bullet and a broken heart. So how about for once in your goddamn life you take responsibility for the mess you've made and clean it up yourself, cause I’m not making you shit other than tea.”

“Y/n-”

“Save it Tommy. I dont need to hear any more of your fucking empty promises.” you hissed as you throat tightened and your eyes became glossy.

“Y/n please don't cry..”

“How can I not Polly? He cheated on me. He broke my heart. I watched him fall out of love with me and in love with someone else. I know I’m not pale, blonde, not extra skinny or dripping with femininity like she was. But I didn't think it would matter, because I loved you Tommy and I thought you loved me. I gave you everything I had to fucking offer and even that wasn't enough for you. Because you're never fucking satisfied Thomas Shelby.”

‘Y/n please..” Tommy mumbled as he shifted Kenji on his lap. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights, scared that if he moved you’ll cry even more. Pol watched with sad eyes, but didn't say anything, it wasn't her place after all.

“I gave you everything I had and it wasn't enough… No, because instead you fell for the barmaid spy. The same one that ratted you out. And even after finding out what she did. Even after I took that bullet for you, the same bullet that killed my baby and almost killed me, you spent the night with her. I-I- I can't forgive you for that and I never will Tommy. And if it wasn't for these two sleeping angel that I gave birth to alone, none of this would be happening. My boys deserve the chance to know you, and to love you. The same way I loved you. And if they choose to hate you instead that will be no one’s fault but your own.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Tommy finally said after a minute of tense silence.

“It means you have a week. That’s how long you have before I take my sons back home. Because at the end of the day the barmaid may have tempted you but she’s not the one that said ‘I do’ at the altar. Nope, that was you Thomas Shelby and now because of that I love you just as much as I hate you.”

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fleckcmscott · 4 years ago

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Another Year

Summary: Arthur’s birthday is coming up. Y/N wants nothing more than to make it great.

Warnings: Swearing

Words: 3,892

A/N: This request came from the one-of-a-kind, fabulous @sweet-nothings04! Thank you for asking for this. I enjoyed writing it a lot!

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open! Keep them coming!

Y/N hadn't realized how much she'd missed putting together birthday celebrations. Not until the unexpected serendipity of falling in love again. Her ex-husband had preferred not to make a big deal of them, had stated he hated getting older. (Considering he'd been in his twenties, she'd found that assertion silly.) As her father had slipped away, special events and gifts had gone by the wayside to focus on routines that wouldn't throw him off kilter. She'd been invited to her sister's and brother-in-law's parties but had only stayed for the hour or two she'd hired a sitter. And while she wasn't the most attentive aunt, she always ensured her nephews and nieces at least got a card and money for a treat.

From what she'd gathered, birthdays had never been an important facet of Arthur's life. That had become obvious upon learning his was 11/21/1946 by reading documents instead of from him. When she'd discovered he'd turned thirty-five and hadn't even told her. But unlike her ex, it wasn't because he didn't want them to be. It was due to neglect, isolation, and the inability to connect. As much sympathy as she had for Penny, for her own illnesses and suffering, for what had been done to her, the wounds she'd inflicted on her son hurt Y/N’s heart. There were so many lost years. She was determined to make-up for them by spoiling him.

The diner where Patricia and she often met for lunch was halfway between their two offices. A five- or six-minute walk for them both. Y/N arrived first. She sat at the white and gold Formica counter and perused the menu. (Though she'd already decided to get her usual pastrami on wheat, garlic pickle, and coleslaw.) Patricia strolled in as the waitress jotted down Y/N's order, and told the young lady she'd have whatever Y/N was having.

They caught up quickly. The Wayne Foundation case was going to have a preliminary hearing in three weeks. Y/N couldn't have rolled her eyes harder. ("Thank god I won't be there. They'd have to drag me off the stand.") Patricia listened with interest while Y/N went on about a dispute involving break violations at Ace Chemicals. And Patricia invited her to stop by the office soon, claiming Matt had realized he'd been stupid to let her quit. ("I'm sure he misses me being a pain in his ass.")

Y/N was picking at the crust of her sandwich when she changed the subject. “I need a favor.”

Patricia arched a brow at her. “Is this going to involve me lugging boxes of files to your apartment?”

“Only if you want the workout.” Chuckling, Y/N shook her head. “Arthur’s birthday is next Saturday. You bake the best cakes. If I’m left to my own devices, he’s going to get something out of a Universal Foods’ box.”

“Mine are out of a box. I just modify the directions and make my own frosting.” Patricia used the rest of her bread to sop up her coleslaw’s dressing. “How old did you say he’s going to be? Thirty-five?”

“Thirty-six.”

Swallowing her last bite, Patricia quirked up the corner of her lips. “I still owe you for running those supplies to the office when my foot was broken. What kind does he like?”

Y/N hugged her tight across the shoulders. After a short discussion, they decided on chocolate with vanilla cream frosting - a safe choice. It would be small, since it was only for the two of them. Arthur had a job the day before. That would allow her to take it home without him seeing. She’d just have to keep him away from the fridge the rest of the evening.

They talked about the other things Y/N had in-store for him, the reservation, the gifts. She giggled, pleased at having successfully hidden it all from him so far. “You’re putting a lot of work into this,” Patricia said. “What did you do last year?”

“I didn’t know about it last year. He didn’t mention it.” Though Patricia was already aware of some of Arthur’s past, Y/N had kept the details to a minimum. She tried to think of an elaboration, one that respected his privacy but was honest. She started in on her pickle. “With Penny being sick - with everything he was going through...”

Sipping her coffee, Patricia spun her stool to face Y/N fully. “You don’t need to say anymore. I remember. It was hard for you both.”

The empathy in Patricia’s gaze prompted a smile. And reminded Y/N how grateful she was for a friend who was frank but unjudgmental. “Back then, he thought needing or wanting anything from me was a bother. But he’s getting better at letting me love him.” Y/N put a hand on her chest. “And now he’ll never need to mention it. It’s locked in here for good.”

~~~~~

Yesterday had left Arthur in a funk. One that showed signs of adhering to his brain the way flies had stuck to the tape he’d had to hang from the ceiling of his old apartment every spring. He’d spent close to twelve hours dancing and waving a “Store Closing! Everything 50-70% off!” placard in front of Dave’s Pleasure Emporium in Gotham Square. (The city must really be fucked if its denizens’ finances were shitty enough that adult shops were shutting down.) It had been his least favorite gig in months. But the slow season was coming on, and the pay had been decent.

The dull ache in his lower spine, radiating to his hip, had made it harder than usual to sleep. And soreness was seeping from familiar spots to sinews he’d forgotten were there. Even the tips of his toes hurt. Two more ibuprofen tablets and acetaminophen went down easily. Carefully, not wanting to rouse her, he removed Y/N’s hand from his stomach, wincing as he shifted onto his left side to alleviate the pressure on his right.

Thirty-five was too old for this. While he loved performing for children, he should have made it as a comic by now. And he should have finished school. He’d be able to do more than be on his feet all day, then. Have more options. Opportunities...

Or maybe he simply shouldn’t have taken that particular job.

The ability to stop catastrophizing, adjust his way of thinking, was new. And rare. He made a mental note to write today’s accomplishment in his journal and share it at his next appointment. The therapist would be impressed with him. Dozing, he thought his funk might abate after all.

It could have been five or fifty minutes later when he felt the comforter being dragged down. Heard the zip of the shades being rolled up. But he was in that snug state between wakefulness and slumber and refused to react. Then there was a pinch on his chin, a light weight on his scalp. “What are you doing?” he mumbled gravelly.

“It’s someone’s special day today,” Y/N said.

Oh. That’s right. He was thirty-six now.

Squinting in the bright sunlight filtering through their sheer curtains, he propped himself on his forearm. She was half-reclined next to him, draped in a short, black nightdress. The one she found a tad tawdry but he liked. He rubbed his eyes, his forehead. Thin cardboard stopped him when he reached his hair. His fingers followed it, found it tapered into a point.

A party hat. She’d gotten him a party hat. He couldn’t hold back his snort.

In his line of work, birthdays were for kids. He’d stopped caring about his own as a teenager. Penny had seemingly been glad he was around. But she never remembered. Hell, he’d had to remind her of her own. But the last acknowledgment of it, the last one before meeting Y/N, had been by a teacher. He’d gotten an extra five minutes of recess and escaped punishment for inappropriate laughter for the day.

This was his first birthday with a person who saw and loved him. Understood who he was. Knew he was more than some image projected onto him. A person who appeared thrilled he existed and to be in his life. As a husband. Every sit-com and film he’d watched had clued him in: wives deemed them important. They hid gifts, cooked special meals, sneaked around arranging parties. There hadn’t been any sneaking on Y/N’s part, none that he could detect. He wondered what she could have planned.

The kneading of her thumb in the hollow of his hip, briefs slung too low as usual, gave him a good idea of her plan for this morning. The entangling of their legs confirmed it. “I got donuts. Coffee’s ready.”

“You, um-“ He cleared his throat, closed his eyes at the brush of her thigh against his length. Which was getting harder with each touch of her lips to the crook of his neck. “You didn’t make breakfast?”

“No.” Her chuckle was throaty, full of desire. “I wasn’t going to torture you with burnt eggs.” She was pulling at his biceps, trying to get him to settle over her. “Let’s work up your appetite, Mr. Fleck.”

But he flinched and halted her movements. The painkillers hadn't kicked in yet. His muscles burned. "We'll get to it later," he promised between languid, lingering kisses. The kind that made him feel safe. Loved. Famished for her. She guided him onto his stomach, stroked him affectionately. Breaths mingling, they chatted lazily until they both cooled off.

Once his stomach started rumbling, Y/N insisted they get up, despite his protestations that he wasn't hungry. That staying under the covers with her for hours would be fun. That they could eat in bed, crumbs be damned. His back would get worse if he continued laying like that, she told him. He needed to stretch and move. Although he grumbled, his experiences with injuries, whether from overwork, assholes, or sleeping on a couch most of his life, had taught him she was right.

Following a cigarette on the fire escape, he went to the kitchen, grabbed a mug, and did a double-take at the round table in the dining nook. He approached it in disbelief. He tensed as he ran his hand along the rectangular gifts and their shiny red paper. Squeezed the puffy, tan winter coat. Fingered the silver ribbon tied to the chair, dangling from an aluminum helium balloon. The lump in his throat forced a short laugh. But he didn't cover his mouth, not having to hide from her. He shook his head, wiping at the sudden wetness in his eyes. "All this is for me?" He did his best to sound normal.

"No. They're for my other husband, Carnival." She came behind him, hugged him around his torso and splayed her fingers on his chest. "You may have met him. Has a penchant for making balloon animals? Wears pants with the cutest patch on his bottom?" He grasped her forearm, held her tight to him as his shoulders shook with mirth.

It wasn't yet eight o'clock. And the day was already shaping up to be one of his favorites.

~~~~~

At the vanity on Arthur's side of the bed, Y/N was attempting to create the perfect oval eye with brown liner. The wide smile creeping onto her face wasn't making it easy. But it couldn't be helped. Everything had gone wonderfully so far. Had more than met her expectations. She hoped his had been met, too.

She'd been badgering him to get a winter coat since last Christmas. (His teeth had chattered almost the entire time they'd stood outside to watch Gotham's Christmas parade. The hot chocolate from a vendor hadn't done much good. A long bath had been necessary to finally warm him up.) The one she'd picked out fit him well, and he'd seemed to like it, hanging it by the door next to his tan jacket. And she'd known he was attached to his trusty, foil razor. But it was over fifteen years old, taped together, and on its way out. The new one had a rechargeable battery. He wouldn't be tethered to the outlet over the sink if he wanted to move around a bit.

The twitch of his nostrils, his hitched breath as he'd whispered, "Thank you," had compelled her to kneel next to his chair. The poignancy of his reaction had affected her keenly. Hollowed out her core and filled it with compassion and love. He'd frowned and wiped his nose with the back of his knuckles. "Sorry," he'd scoffed, glistening eyes darting to hers. "I don't mean to be weird."

"You're not, Arthur." She'd gently removed his black and red polka-dotted party hat, set it on the table. "You're being you."

After a quick lunch, they'd leisurely strolled arm-in-arm through the neighborhood, including a visit to the nearby park. Arthur had wanted to stop into the used record shop three or four blocks away. She'd caressed up and down his back, observing his content visage as he flipped through the LPs. It was lovely to see him treat himself to a couple without hesitating to worry about the cost for too long. At home, he'd settled on the floor by the record player and put them on. He must have been feeling better, because he'd kept his earlier promise: they'd made love on the carpet. Unhurried, sweet, and giggling like idiots.

The opening of the bathroom door broke her out of her reverie. She started blotting her darker-than-usual red lipstick with a tissue. "It was nice of Patricia to get me aftershave," he said.

She smoothed the lines of her champagne color, mid-length dress, adjusted its petal sleeves, then twisted around just as he entered the bedroom. Her movements halted. Would his handsomeness, his beauty, ever fail to stun her? Gaze roaming his slender form, she stared at him. He'd only worn his black and brown oxfords seldomly, saving them for special occasions. The wrinkled white socks didn't match his black pants, but they paired well with him.

It was the teal button-up, patterned with white circles of various opacities and sizes, that caused her to need a few seconds to process his remark. It'd hung in the corner of his old living room; she'd eyed it in their closet since he'd moved in. It was such a contrast to his usual conservative clothing. Quite unlike him, she'd assumed. But seeing him standing there in it, the way it complimented his lithe figure and brought out the light green of his irises, made him look a little less withdrawn, she realized she'd been mistaken.

"She thought it'd suit your new shaver." He gave a gentle hum in response, bashful smile appearing. Such gestures were unfamiliar to him. Eventually, they'd become such an integral part of his life he'd grow tired of them. Y/N would make sure of that. The idea prompted a grin and she stepped around the bed to approach him. "You look great. Are you ready?"

“Yeah.” The crook of his mouth, the furrow of his forehead alerted her to his nervousness. He rubbed the back of his neck, flitted his look to hers. “It sounds fancy.”

She kissed him soundly and he eased into her embrace. “You don’t have to impress me,” she said. “You already did that. Use whichever fork you want.”

The restaurant was in Gotham’s Little Italy district, only a block or two from Chinatown. Y/N had never been to Bamonte’s but her colleagues had given it good reviews. (One had said he and his wife went there every anniversary.) Arthur gaped when they went inside. She watched him survey the lavish, red curtains decorating the walls; the dim lanterns suspended from the ceiling; the faux-marble floor. Huffing, he turned to her, concern clear on his face. She grasped his elbow. “It’s all right. You belong here as much as anyone else.”

The maitre’d led them to a secluded table, behind its own drawn back drapes in the rear corner of the smoking section. Arthur traced the edges of the three lit, tulip-shaped votive holders. Caressed the cream color tablecloth as he sat in the fabric covered chair. An anxious chuckle left him and he smoothed his palm over his thigh. “I hope I don’t spill anything.”

Y/N assisted Arthur with the menu, explaining some of the more exotic-to-him dishes. He was interested in the antipasto, which wasn’t unexpected, since he always kept a jar of olives in the fridge. The gnocchi with tomatoes, spinach, fresh basil, and mozzarella was what he thought sounded best. She chose an old favorite, chicken in a mushroom and white wine sauce and a Caesar salad on the side. Arthur picked the least expensive Moscato on the wine list. When the bottle was opened and left on the table, he blinked at it, then shrugged and filled their glasses.

After a couple of sips, he crossed his legs and puffed on his cigarette. “I wrote a new joke. Well, I really just changed an old one.” He reached across the table to graze across the back of her hand. “Why didn’t the old man like having insomnia?”

Her eyelids fluttered, his gossamer touch setting her aflame. She ran her toes along his calf, his resulting twitch causing her to giggle in delight. “He wanted to sleep with his wife?”

Dark brows shot up in surprise, his eyes lighting up. Their fingers laced together. “How did you know?”

Leaning forward, she traced his crow's feet, prominent due to his beaming smile. Then her touch drifted to his jawline. “It was the first joke you ever told me," she murmured. "How could I forget?” Clutching her hand, he pressed a kiss to her wrist. He held her to his lips, hard enough to feel his teeth. And he grew quiet. “What is it?” she asked after a minute.

His eyelids shut. She could feel his pulse quicken together with hers. “I- I wanna sleep with you forever,” he breathed.

Out of anyone else’s mouth, she would have taken that to mean sex. From him, however, she knew it meant mountains more. Adoration welling in her chest, her fingertips weaved into his loose, chestnut curls. “You will.”

~~~~~

Once, in high school, Arthur had gotten a hold of some grass. It was supposed to induce giddiness and euphoria, make a person relax. God knows he could have used it back then; Penny had started declining and he’d had to learn to run a household. Plus, he’d thought at the time, it’d make him one of the guys. All the cool kids were doing it. Maybe he’d be able to connect with one and learn how to be popular. But all it had done was make him nauseous and paranoid. There hadn’t been one iota of the “high” he’d imagined. He’d thrown it out and never tried it again.

Now he wondered: was it possible to be high on a person? To be drunk on their presence? To feel their essence down to the cell? Necking on the sofa with Y/N, their coffee forgotten on the coffee table, he figured it must be. Enraptured, he wanted to capture her ragged breaths, take her into his lungs, make her a perpetual part of his being. Perhaps he’d stay happy naturally, then, like everyone else. Even if that didn’t work, she’d always be close.

Giggling, she pushed him off her and headed towards the kitchen. “Wait here. No peeking.”

Laughing softly, Arthur pushed his hair out of his face. She’d already gotten him gifts. Let him make love to her. Taken him to an eatery where he was totally out of place and managed to make it comfortable. What else could she possibly do? Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long. He eagerly followed at the call of his name.

The loveliest cake he’d ever seen was on the counter. Dark chocolate shavings embellished its round border. And it was the perfect size for the two of them. Y/N was rushing to light a mass of candles on it. “Quick, make a wish before wax drips onto the frosting.”

He mused for a moment. He no longer needed to pine for daydreams and delusions of companionship - he had Y/N. In spite of the icons his mother had had in every room of their apartment, he’d long ago stopped praying to what he suspected was nothing for his conditions and illnesses to go away. Then it occurred to him. Bending to blow out the candles, he wished for his innate comedic gifts to be recognized. To be validated as the stand-up he knew he was. And to provide for Y/N. To be what she needed. To make her happy.

Although he was grateful for Patricia’s thoughtfulness, and he knew Y/N’s baking wasn’t better than his own, part of him had wanted her to be the one who made the cake. But he tried to push that aside and appreciate it regardless. The slice she gave him was far too generous. He ate it all, anyway, because it was delicious. The sponge was fluffy. And the chocolate could actually be detected, instead of a vague, sugary flavor. The frosting tasted finer than that on the grocery store bakery cupcakes he’d sampled in the past.

As he was rinsing off the cutlery, Y/N saddled up beside him and held out a bright purple envelope, inscribed with “Happy Birthday!” in her pretty longhand. He leaned his hip against the counter as he grasped it, intentionally brushing his hand against hers. Gingerly, he lifted the flap and pulled out the card.

The cardstock was a vibrant gold and white. Two mugs, one green and labeled, “Yours,” one pink and labeled, “Mine” sat on sketched coasters. The shiny purple letters underneath proclaimed, “You get me. I get you.” Pressing his thin lips together, he opened it. And sighed when he read the rest: “Hope you know how happy that makes me.”

One of his wishes had already come true.

The elation coursing through his veins made him shudder. He nearly missed the stiff papers that fell from the envelope. Y/N retrieved them and gently placed them in his palm. A wide smile spread across his cheeks as he read aloud. “‘Gotham Pops presents A Night with Gershwin?’” He double-checked the date. “These are for New Year’s Eve.”

She nodded. “I snagged them as soon as they went on sale. They’re orchestra seats.” Then she squeezed him flush to her side, bumped her nose to his. “Don’t think I haven’t heard you sing to yourself in the tub.”

“Oh,” he chuckled, eyes tracing the diamond pattern of the grey, linoleum floor. “I thought I was quieter.”

“I’m glad you weren’t.” Enthusiastically, her lips pulled at his before she grinned up at him. “Did you have a happy birthday? Was it worth getting older?”

Arthur’s answer came without delay. “Yes.” There wasn’t a way to explain what it meant to him, to explain that she helped him feel good to be alive. How full his heart was. That she patched cracks in his soul he hadn’t known existed. He longed to do the same for her. He cupped her jaw on either side, guiding her to his mouth and rasping, “I don’t mind getting older with you.”

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve @howdylilflower @sweet-nothings04 @stephieraptorr @rommies @fallenstarsabyss @gruffle1 @octopus-plasma @tsukiakarinobara @arthur-flecks-lovely-smile @another-day-in-chuckletown @hhandley80 @jokerownsmysoul

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x female reader #arthur fleck x ofc #joker 2019 #watchwhathappens

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aegon · 5 years ago

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okay, I know I’ve mentioned it before that I find the criticisms of ‘joker’ very shallow and misleading - but this is the top review on rotten tomatoes...

...and I feel the need to repeat myself again. This isn’t the only one of its kind, but it’s the most popular I’ve seen. Every media outlet has written about a similar topic in some shape or form.

So I’ve read the article, hidden behind a paywall as it is, and I take serious issue with the damaging message the author took from the film. I’ve copied the article bit by bit because I’m so fucking irritated by it.

For it is essentially a depiction of what happens when white supremacy is left unchecked. It shows the delusions that many white men have about their place in society and the brutality that can result when that place is denied.

Arthur Fleck doesn’t want to be treated better because of the colour of his skin. He doesn’t ask for help because he feels he’s superior to the POC around him. He needs help because he’s ill and no one cares. The film is a criticism of austerity and classism, and the unsympathetic arrogance of those in more fortunate positions than others. It’s also, more importantly, about how all this affects a mentally ill loner with a history of childhood abuse and living in poverty.

It has nothing to do with his race. The author’s words imply that a white person in such a desperate situation is only seeking to affirm their own supremacy. That’s....so fucked up. Mental illness isn’t some tool to be used in a race war, it hurts anyone. He’s dismissing the experiences of a man who happens to be white because he can’t see beyond the colour of his skin. Doesn’t that sound like exactly the kind of thing POC have been fighting against for decades, if not centuries?

The fact that the Joker is a white man is central to the film’s plot. A black man in Gotham City (really, New York) in 1981 suffering from the same mysterious mental illnesses as Fleck would be homeless and invisible. He wouldn’t be turned into a public figure who could incite an entire city to rise up against the wealthy. Black men dealing with Fleck’s conditions are often cast aside by society, ending up on the streets or in jail, as studies have shown.

And though Fleck says he often feels invisible, had he been black, he truly would have been — except, of course, when he came into contact with the police.

Arthur is invisible. It’s painfully obvious that he is. He incites a movement because of what he symbolises and the way Thomas Wayne dismissed people like him. When he murdered the three rich boys on the subway, only his clown makeup was identified. The police weren’t looking for a man of any specific colour, they were looking for a fucking clown.

Arthur could have been black, brown, red or blue. The face behind the mask doesn’t matter, because Gotham City united behind the icon of resistance. It’s supposed to be ironic. The only way Arthur felt seen was when he was under his mask. Nobody cared about Arthur Fleck, they cared about the Joker.

So yes, had Arthur been a black man, he’d still become the symbol of resistance.

Though Fleck is pursued and investigated by Gotham’s finest, his whiteness acts as a force field, protecting him as he engages in the violent acts of the latter half of the film. Consider his appearance on the live talk show hosted by Murray Franklin (Robert De Niro). A black man acting as strangely as Fleck does would not have been allowed to go on the air. But the white Fleck is given access, and bloodshed soon follows.

I mean, in regards to how strangely he was acting, the reason they invited him to the show was because they thought he was a freak. They wanted him to make a fool of himself. Also Murray’s producer never wanted him on the air, but Murray insisted because he was more concerned with viewership. Again - that’s the fucking point. Murray was far too invested in his own self-interest to see a man dangerously close to snapping. The author completely glossed over that, and the producer who didn’t want Arthur, white skin and all.

Or look at how Fleck interacts with others. He is frequently in conversation with people who occupy a lower rung in society than he does: a state-appointed therapist he sees early on; a protective mother who chastises him for playing peekaboo with her son on the bus; his possible love interest, a neighbor who lives in the same building; and the psychiatrist he sees in Arkham Asylum. Every one of these characters is a black woman with whom he eventually has confrontations. Phillips consistently places Fleck in an oppositional or antagonistic position to these women.

I don’t know if this is intentional on Phillips’s part, but it is significant. When we learn that his relationship with the neighbor (played with artful restraint by Zazie Beetz) was merely a figment of his troubled imagination, the way he leaves the apartment implies that this realization has led Fleck to kill her and perhaps her child. After his final conversation with the Arkham doctor, his bloody footsteps suggest that he kills her as well.

A key fact the author conveniently ignores in his article is that Arthur never blames immigrants or POC for his misfortune. When he takes a beating at the hands of non-white kids at the start of his film, his colleague calls them “animals” (a common racist term for non-white folks) but Arthur insists they’re just kids. He sympathises with them, despite the fact they brutalised him, because he doesn’t see them as an ‘other.’

And I do think that’s why, crucially, most of the female characters are black women. Whether they occupy a lower rung of society than he does is debatable, because he’s constantly framed as being in the same situation as them. He’s as impacted by the austerity cuts as they are, he rides the bus as they do, he lives in the same shitty building as they do. To quote his therapist: “they don’t give a shit about you, and they don’t give a shit about me, either.”

Arthur doesn’t just have confrontations with them, he has an imaginary relationship with one. Whether he murders her or not is left ambiguous and up to the audience to decide her fate. We can’t say for sure that she’s dead, and that’s the theme of the entire film. We have no idea if anything is real or all in his head when he’s in the asylum.

And that’s the brilliant point.

Arthur’s world is dominated by black women because black women are one of the minorities most affected by institutional prejudice, facing discrimination for both their race and their gender. In 1970s America, they were some of the most invisible people around, ignored by the wealthy and powerful. So Arthur relates to them.

Phillips’ decision to use black women offers a double message that they, too, are suffering under austerity and classism. This isn’t just a white lonesome man’s struggle, it’s a reality for black women everywhere. Arthur’s situation isn’t exceptional because your neighbour, your therapist, the woman on your bus with her kid - they’re all going through it without going on a murderous rampage. If you feel for Arthur’s plight, you feel for theirs too. It’s fucking brilliant.

As for why he has confrontations with them - he has confrontations with literally everyone. Literally everyone treats him badly. Again, that’s. the. point. Except for the black man at Arkham Asylum who tells him to go get help, who’s just doing his job and feels pity for Arthur. But hey, the author ignores that.

Fleck kills white men because he cannot access their status and is ostracized by them, but his black female victims are so invisible that the film does not bother to show their deaths. We as viewers can and should take note of them.

Arthur killed the three white boys on the subway because they were beating the shit out of him for no other reason than him laughing. They were cruel and sadistic, and he’d just been fired from the job he loved so was on his last nerve. He killed his white ex-colleague for framing him and having the balls to still ask him to lie on his behalf so he could keep his job, when he had Arthur fired. He killed Murray for demeaning him and mocking his plight.

Every person killed on-screen was white. Every person killed on-screen was because Arthur felt they’d done him wrong. Zazie’s character is unconfirmed if dead. The psychiatrist at the asylum is implied to be dead, but Arthur’s transformation to the Joker is complete and it’s entirely possible that the act in itself demonstrates (after having sympathised with black women before) that Arthur’s sanity has cracked and his humanity has been replaced by the chaos of the Joker, who cares little for any life, even that of a marginalised minority he once related to.

There are other ways that whiteness informs Fleck’s character. He anticipates he’ll be treated as a son by the Wayne family, and assumes he’ll be given medical records just by asking the hospital orderly (played by the great Brian Tyree Henry). The privileges that come with Fleck’s race set him up for these unrealistic expectations. When they’re not met, the consequences are deadly.

It’s almost as if Arthur has no concept of reality and has little understanding of the way the world works and naively believes that things will just happen because he wants them to. It’s almost as if he has severe parental issues and was so desperate for a father, he even imagined Murray calling him the son he’d always wanted. It’s almost as if this has been established in the film multiple times.

Whiteness may not have been on the filmmakers’ minds when they made “Joker,” but it is the hidden accomplice that fosters the violence onscreen.

Let’s take a film that offers a brutal outlook on the impact of mental illness on one’s psyche and sanity and demean the entire message, important as it is, and try to steer a much needed conversation on mental health towards something that doesn’t concern it. As a POC, I find articles like this so, so damaging to the fight against racism.

It essentially weakens our arguments and offers ammunition to those that believe POC just hate white people for no other reason than, “ur white and I don’t like it.” Way to go, NYT.

Guaranteed, if Joker had been black or brown and white women were only used, there’d be a backlash against the narrative for painting men of colour as unstable and white women as victims because men of colour aren’t allowed to be mentally ill, only terrorists and criminals. Which is what Joker ultimately ends up becoming. Can’t win, can you?

Thank u for coming to my ted talk.

#sorry I went off #I'm open to valid criticism #but to turn this into a race issue #and ignoring the conversation of mental health #doesn't help anyone #because we NEED to talk about mental health and austerity #it's a VERY REAL ISSUE affecting SO MANY PEOPLE #also people are assholes and we need to try and not be assholes and that's a lesson too lawrence but go off i guess #joker spoilers #go to sleep aly

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