#so i had to buy a new fucking phone (i also need a new laptop but shes still hanging on by a thread knock on wood)

[ssruis]

Going through a straight up comical amount of irritating situations to get the stupid 4* guaranteed ticket from the welcome to sekai campaign. It Will Be Mine.

[starlightkun]

finally had to buy a new phone 🤢🤢 spending money 🤢🤢🤢

[fangedtracks]

god im so fckn burnt out fuck

[barbiiecams]

sugardaddy!rafe who’s also older than you omg… you’re around 20-21 while he’s 30. it’s not bad, but it’s definitely not something people saw coming. some people thought it was wrong with what was going on, others actually envied you. but none of that ever mattered. you’ve made him the happiest he’s been in a while and vice versa. everything is so perfect for you, because that’s the only thing rafe wants (and it keeps you happy of course.)

being the girl you are, you have a big thing for keeping in touch with the latest clothing. and when you set your eyes on that cartier love bracelet… best believe it was gonna be yours.

you gasped at the beautiful sight on your screen. just happening to be laid back on the couch, in your favorite robe, that was covering your lace lingerie, doing some online shopping, it came up on your screen.

falling in love weren’t even the words for how you felt. rafe was in his office doing whatever boring work he always does. he told you not to distract him too much, but this was a bracelet you HAD to have. so, you got up to go see if he was all that busy.

making your way with the macbook in your hands, you already can hear him yell at someone over the phone from down the hall.

“are you fucking dumb? i said you will pay me by TONIGHT. or you know what the consequences will be.” it seemed like his voice was getting louder each word.

“you’re not listening, man. i don’t give a shit if-” at this point, you’ve actually made it to the door. he’s pacing and fuming around the room, then he spots you. he holds up a finger, mouthing you to wait a minute. but this bracelet? couldn’t wait at all.

“it’s important!” you whisper-yell. he ignores you, and that makes you even more impatient. he still continues to pace, getting angrier at whatever’s being said on the other side of the phone.

knocking on the door to grab his attention again, he takes a deep breath. “if you don’t get that shit sent by 12 am, that’s your ass tomorrow morning.” rafe says in a lower tone, but still very stern voice. you felt bad to whoever he threatened. there’s never been a single time rafe hasn’t done what he said he’s going to do when it comes to hurting people.

he hangs up immediately after and motions for you to walk in as he sits back down. “you know i’m busy baby, what is it?”

you needed to butter him up a bit, simply because you could still see the smoke coming out from his ears. “are you okay, honey? i can tell youre still pretty upset.”

discreetly trying to set the macbook down with it angled as if it meant nothing, you then walked to the back of his chair where he sat and started rubbing his shoulders. of course, he relaxed at your touch.

“don’t worry about it babe. just stress work.” he sighs. you leaned down to kiss on his neck. his eyes are shut as he loves all this affection, but he chuckles.

“someone must want something.” he says.

“i can’t just love on my man?” you faked innocent.

“oh you do that enough, but i see the macbook you brought with you.” he responds. you gave him one last kiss.

“it’s just a little something i saw.”

“oh yea? how little is it?”

you reached over to pick up the laptop. opening it so he can fully see the screen, the gorgeous 18k gold band with diamonds all over it popped up.

“that’s real gorgeous baby.” his eyebrows raised.

“i know! wouldn’t it look so perfect on me?” you suggested.

“it would,” he started to pat his clothing for his wallet, “what will i get out of this though?” he teases.

“well, just imagine how much better my hands will look when i hold onto you, and how well it will look up close when i give you a blowie.” you reply seductively. for a second, it looks like he’s really trying to imagine it.

by now, you know he feels his wallet. but he likes to play with you at times. “i don’t know if you need it,”

“pleaseee rafey! i really do! haven’t got a new bracelet in soo long.” you started to beg.

“58,000 for this? shit i could buy you a new purse with that.” he chuckles again. he could buy you purses worth a lot more than that but you know, who’s keeping track?

you took a seat on his lap and straddled him. “please? i’ll be such good girl. y’can use me however, whenever. doesn’t matter what you want. i would just love to have this bracelet though.” he was a fool for your doe eyes, so that was the weapon you were trying to use.

he just smirked in your face. the both of you knew he liked to hear you beg. “i don’t know..” he says which makes you internally flip out.

you threw your face in the crook of his neck and made it sound like you were getting emotional. “please rafe!! it’s so pretty.”

he lets out a laugh then starts stroking your back and swaying a little. “i’m just joking baby, of course you can have it.” that’s all you needed to hear to perk up again, and give him the deepest smooch.

“thank you, handsome.”

“you’re welcome, spoiled.” he says before slapping one of your cheeks. “gonna buy it right now, but i got some more work to do so i’ll be with you in a minute. want you stripped down with legs open, yea?”

whatever rafe says, most definitely goes. “yes, daddy.”

[yxngbxkkie]

long-distance (b.c)

i saw an edit of chan from channie's room, and i had come up with this idea for him. i want and need this man so much, he's so fucking PRECIOUS 🥹 anyway, i hope you guys like it 🩷🩷

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

Two minutes after you open your laptop, a video call from Chan appears. A smile graces your lips as you answer it with no hesitation. It gets bigger when his face appears on screen.

“Hi, baby,” he smiles at the camera, his dark eyes checking every inch of your face.

It's been almost a month since the two of you have video chatted. Especially with Chan being busy with schedules.

“Hi, my baby,” you greet him, leaning your chin on the palms of your hand. “How are you?”

Chan leans back in his chair, releasing a hefty sigh. “It was okay. It was kinda busy, but it wasn't unbearable,” he mentions to you.

You pout, wishing you could give him a tight hug. “I'm sorry, baby. The good news is that you have your vacation coming up!” You attempt to cheer him up, wanting to relieve his stress a little.

“I do, yes! I'm super excited about it,” he tells you, clasping his hands together. “Speaking of vacations, I have a surprise.”

“What is it?” You ask him with wide eyes, watching him get up from his desk. Chan walks off the screen, and you're curious as to what his surprise is.

You tap your fingers on your cheek, hearing your phone vibrate against the desk. Before you have the chance to look at it, your boyfriend comes back on screen.

“Okay! So, I just sent you something,” he giggles, shaking the phone in his hand.

“I'm nervous,” you chuckle while grabbing your phone. You open Chan's text to see a link. You furrow your brows, quickly glancing at him before clicking the link.

Your jaw drops when you see a boarding pass in your name. A boarding pass that leads to South Korea. Your heart beats wildly against your chest as the surprise sets in.

“Chan…” you trail off, tears coming to your eyes. “Are you serious?”

He nods his head, a fond smile on his plump lips. “Of course, baby. It's been two years since I've had you in my arms. I have a week of vacation coming up, and now so do you. Come spend it with me,” Chan explains, his thumbs stroking the back of his hands.

You cover your mouth, holding in your sobs. “Of course I'll come spend it with you,” you tell him, tears slipping down your cheeks. “Oh my god. I can't believe this.”

“I can't wait to see you,” he smiles, running a hand through his hair. “I can't wait to kiss you.”

You playfully roll your eyes, recalling all the times he's told you how much he's missed kissing you. “Are you buying me a plane ticket just so you can kiss me?” You ask jokingly.

“You know it's not like that!” Chan groans, tilting his head back. “That's just a perk to being your boyfriend.”

“To kiss my lips?” You ask, poking your lips with your finger.

He winks, nodding his head. “You have really pretty lips, baby,” Chan smugly says, biting his lip.

“You know who also has pretty lips,” you mention, smirking at your computer screen. Chan hums in response, tilting his head. “You, baby.”

“Me!? No way,” he scoffs, bringing a hand to his lips to feel him.

You swear the first thing that you do when you see him is slap him. “Yes, you! Your lips are thick, baby. Nice and plump for me to kiss,” you smooch the air, chuckling afterward.

“You're crazy,” he huffs, shaking his head with a smile.

You rest against your hands again, feeling your heart flutter at the sight of him. “Crazy for you,” you smoothly compliment him.

“God, I should've made your flight date earlier,” he mumbles, his hand rubbing his chin. His eyes meet yours, and both of you stare quietly for a few moments. “I need you with me right now.”

You pout again. “I wish I could be there now, but soon enough, I'll be there,” You do your best to reassure him, making a heart with my hands.

He returns the heart, pouting also. “I'm counting down the days,” Chan whispers loud enough for you to hear.

~

Your heart is racing in your chest as you step out of the terminal. Your eyes are quickly looking around to find Chan. You stand on your toes, releasing a quiet gasp when you spot him.

“Baby!” You call out, not wanting to gain attention for shouting his name.

Chan hears your voice, quickly turning his head in your direction. The two of you run to each other, avoiding the other travelers around you.

You crash into him, wrapping your arms around his neck. Chan slides his hands across your lower back, pressing you against him. You hide your face in his neck, trying your best not to cry.

“My baby,” he whispers into your ear, rubbing your back gently.

Your fingers run through his hair, pressing light kisses on his neck. “I've missed you so much,” you cry out, gripping onto the hoodie he's wearing.

He pulls back so he can look at you, placing both hands on your cheeks. A few tears run down your cheeks, feeling Chan's thumb wipe them away.

“I've missed you too, baby,” he kisses your forehead.

You leaned on your toes, smashing your lips with his. “I love you,” you mumble into the kiss, petting his fluffy hair.

“I love you,” Chan says, stroking your cheeks.

You hug him tightly again, and the two of you start to sway back and forth. It felt really good to be in his arms again, especially after not seeing each other for two years.

“C'mon, there's a car waiting for us,” he mentions while rubbing your back.

You pull away from each other, and he instantly grabs your hand before leading you towards baggage claim to receive your luggage.

There's a comfortable silence between you both as you walk through the airport. You look at everything around you, trying to spot if you see any words you might recognize from your Korean lessons.

You bite your lip in disappointment, not being able to recognize anything. You rest your head against Chan's arm, squeezing his hand as you take the escalator down to the first floor.

“My Korean lessons aren't helping me,” you pout at him, tilting your head back to look at him.

He giggles while stroking the back of your hand, meeting your gaze. “No? Why do you say that?” He asks, both of you stepping off the escalator. “Whenever we try to converse in Korean, it sounds good!”

“Yeah, but I can't read anything,” you huff out, releasing your own giggle.

Chan leans forward and presses a gentle kiss on the top of your head. “Don't worry, baby, I'll read it for you. You just stand here and look pretty,” he taps your nose before going to grab your suitcase.

“When did you get so smooth?” You ask him, biting your lip again as you go to follow him.

He comes back with your suitcase, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Ever since I laid my eyes on you. I'm just really excited that you're here,” Chan mentions, grabbing a hold of your hand again. “Now, let's go get you something to eat.”

~

tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n

[auspicioustidings]

Any version of Soap in any position of power would be soooo disgusting, calling IT Security reader at all times of the day and telling her that the speaker on his computer doesn’t work, while he’s clearly streaming some porno in the background 😭😭😭

You get it Lumi, he's a sick freak :) You also sent this while I happen to be working through 1k requests so bonus short for you <3

Back Chat

Words: 1k

CWs: non-con groping, just all around gross awful Soap

Sergeant John MacTavish was the reason you had poured over your contract for any get out clause that didn't cost you a fortune. You came up with nothing. The military had paid for a high end training course for you on the provision that if you left the role within 2 years then you had to pay every penny back.

Plus this job paid well and the benefits were great. You didn't even mind having gruff military personnel seeing fit to give you a bollocking over the phone because you would be following procedure whether they liked it or not and they could file a damn ticket if they wanted their issue looked at. Generally they were an OK bunch at heart, but rough around the edges and used to recruits eager to please them. When they realised your lack of any rank also excused you from being ordered around by anyone but your actual boss they usually mellowed out.

Of course you had made the mistake of chewing out one such gruff man after he called in a temper demanding that his laptop be fixed as a priority. Not even his work laptop, no he wanted his personal laptop fixed.

“Look MacTavish was it?”

“Sergeant MacTavish tae you.”

“No it isn't. I am not one of your soldiers. I work in IT for the military, your laptop is not military property so I'm not touching it. Use your big boy Sergeant wage and buy a new one.”

“Listen here ye wee bitch-”

You hung up on him and got on with your day right up until he physically showed up at your office on base. You handled IT for multiple bases, you had not considered that the person you had chewed out would actually work on this one. Oops.

He was a big motherfucker as well. Handsome. Crazy scary dog energy. Definitely not your usual soldier with his lack of uniform (unless jeans and a t-shirt that was so tight he was liable to tear out of it was uniform these days) and out of regulation haircut. You scrambled to try and stand but he was already looming over you in your chair, leaving you no space to do so as he settled his hands on the armrests and leaned over you to get into your face.

“I'll need tae settle for you then hen. Better make it good.”

“Excuse me?”

“The lassie on my laptop begs tae get it up the arse. Is a good girl for a thick cock pounding her tight cunt. Even when she's fucked oot her nut and ruined she still gags around a man down her throat and swallows like a proper bitch.”

You were flooded with fear and arousal. Nobody had ever spoken to you like that and you weren't entirely sure he was joking. He wouldn't actually do anything to you right? He was just being a dick because he wanted his laptop fixed. Just trying to intimidate you.

“And I bet she gets paid a lot more than me MacTavish, back off.”

Oh no. There was a feral gleam in his eye and a rabid grin that showed those sharp incisors. He clearly relished your response.

“Then I'll need to buy ye with, what was it? Right. My big boy Sergeant wage.”

He leaned in close and took a deep breath. Christ he was sniffing your currently greasy and messy hair. You hadn't showered in like 2 days, you were fucking IT, it wasn't like people usually came to physically see you in your little den.

“...I'll fix your fucking laptop oh my God just bring it by.”

“Atta girl” he all but panted into your ear before tugging at the lobe with his teeth and then fully tounging at your ear hole.

The sensation was truly the most awful thing you had ever felt. Your skin crawled and your body shivered uncomfortably as you tried to push him away from you. He chuckled and you choked on your own saliva as he firmly smacked your pussy before pulling away.

“I'll bring it right doon.”

You were left completely gobsmacked in your little office, your body hopped up on adrenaline and your cunt throbbing from the spank it had gotten and from the sick part of your mind that found the whole thing depraved and disgusting but sort of titillating.

When he brought the laptop back he hovered behind you while you worked on it, making you sweat. It was an easy enough fix and you sighed in relief and carefully avoided eye contact when you told him it was fixed.

“Ye’ll check it over, cannae be sending me away with a half done job.”

“You can see that it's working.”

He leant over, arms surrounding you so he could scroll over to open a video file. It was of a woman being railed hard from behind, drooling into the pillow and babbling for more. The wet squelch was disgusting, the man spitting down on her and smacking her already red ass.

“Speakers are fucked.”

You squirmed in your seat.

“I can hear it just fine.”

“Aye? What are ye hearing then?”

You remained silent, eyes fixed on the wall instead of on the screen. At least you were silent until he drew a yelp from you by groping one of your tits.

“Told ye, if ye cannae prove that it's fixed I'll need to settle for you. Bit shorter, softer and dirtier than my lassie mind, so got tae give it yer full effort.”

“I-It's working!”

“Prove it, what ye hearing?”

He made you replicate the whole script from each broken moan to the begging to the degrading. He was only satisfied when the whole video had run its course, by which time he had a hand on either tit, rough with how he groped and tugged.

“See now? Wisnae so hard to follow a Sergeant's orders was it?”

“No” you mumbled, crying out when he gripped your nipples through your shirt and twisted. “No Sergeant!”

He let go then, closing the lid of the laptop and standing with it to leave.

“Got an LT having trouble with his phone, he's naw as friendly as me though so best limit the back chat soldier.”

[enluv]

love spill !

PAIRING! - rockstar!jay (enha) x fem!reader

wc: 1.3k+

warnings: angst-ish but not really + fluff later !!, reader is stressed/exhausted, profanity, slow burn(?)

coco’s ♡ note: this came from a mini game I answered once and literally could not get over because I need rockstar bf jay so badly, I might make more with this jay too so let me know if you like it or have any rockstar!bf jay thoughts because I will indulge and write them !!! literally adore this jay so much ahhhh!!!

Finally.

Finally some piece and quiet away from the shared apartment you live in with the three younger boys.

Perhaps living with your younger brother and his university friends wasn’t the best idea, especially when you had a ten page journalism report due by three pm the next day.

That’s why you find yourself here on a hot summers day sitting in your favorite cafe, it’s not busy on Fridays and is hidden enough so the boys won’t find you for a while, but they will come looking eventually.

The bell of the cafes door rings to signify it being opened but this report is due tomorrow and you can’t stop to look up, but maybe you should have. Maybe you should have because now as you watch the hot brown liquid seep into your laptops keyboard you become painfully aware of the boy in front of you who’d walked in early wearing the most guilt ridden expression. His words muffled as you watch your screen go black.

“Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m so sorry. Wait here let me get something to clean this up.” He’s fumbling with the other drinks in his hand as he tries to reach for napkins to clean the spill he’s made.

Where else would you go really? Right now you’re just waiting for the ground to swallow you whole. Had the program even saved the other three pages you’d written? Was your hard work gone just like that? Would your professor even believe you if you told him what happened? Even if it sounded straight out of a movie?

“Just leave it, I’ll clean it myself. Please leave.”

He stills at your words, no malice or emotions within them just exhaustion. The tone of your voice makes his heart ache, and he swears to himself that he’s going to make up for this for the rest of his life.

“I’m sorry for this really, I need to leave because I have a schedule to get to but I promise I’ll make this up to you. Can I have your number?”

Your stare makes him feel small, then he realizes how his question sounds after a minute passes between you two.

“Wait I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not asking you out. Not saying I wouldn’t ask you out but I’m not doing that right now! I just need it so I can text you to pay you back, or I can pay to get your laptop fixed. I’ll send you the money or even if you want buy you a new one.”

Jay can’t tell what you’re thinking but somehow he’s walking out of the cafe with your phone number and an assortment of drinks for his members. Dreading having to explain to them just what happened in the cafe.

unknown (2:46pm):

uh hey this is jay, I’m the one who dropped my coffee on your laptop, really sorry about that by the way!! um i want to give you these so I can say sorry again in person because my mom always said to apologize face to face or you don’t mean it and also that way we can figure out the laptop money thing together.

unknown (2:47pm):

four attachments sent

just stop by tomorrow and have some fun and then after I’ll come find you and we can talk!! what’s your name by the way?

you (3:12pm):

it’s y/n. thanks, I’ll see you tomorrow.

“I cannot believe some random dude gave you tickets to see downfall, like this show has been sold out for months and I mean months, talking eight months and he just gave up four tickets to see them? He must be loaded! Tell him you want a new computer and game console, I want the newest version.”

Jungwon’s excited rambles bring a smile to your face, sure just yesterday you’d cried almost all the water out your body until Jungwon had called your professor and explained in detail (along with sticking the phone in your room so he could hear your cries) the situation, but he’d also somehow gotten you an extension on your paper for the next week. He seriously deserved the random concert tickets the stranger, Jay, had sent you.

Receiving them was odd but he’d convinced you with the promise of fixing your laptop and that’s honestly all that mattered, so if you had to sit through a three hour long show next to some stranger who spilled coffee on your laptop then so be it because you’d be getting it fixed no matter what.

Except instead of said random stranger sitting next to you, an actual random stranger stood beside you excitedly yapping with her friends and the random stranger you had expected was perched on stage with a guitar in hand, microphone stationed in front of him like it belonged to him, and soon enough you’d realize from the crowds hollers that it did belong to him.

“ARE YOU READY FOR TONIGHT?” He’s met with screams all around the arena.

“That’s what I like to hear, alright let’s go.”

The shock of who Jay was really didn’t cease even after the show had ended and the four of you began to walk out the packed venue, it doesn’t really go away until a large man comes to escort you backstage.

“Hey buddy I think you have the wrong people, we’re just here still because my sisters waiting for someone.” Jungwon’s voice breaks you out of your shock and the man nods as if he knew what he was going to say.

“Yeah he’s backstage, just follow me.”

Jay fidgets with the bag he has in his hands, earlier he’d dragged the boys along with him to pick you out a new laptop and even threw in a new case and holder for it. He really wanted to get the image of your exhausted eyes out of his mind, he wanted to see you happy and healthy.

“Y/N you didn’t tell us the guy who spilled coffee on you was one of the members of downfall,” the voice he hears is failing to whisper as you get closer.

“Are we about to meet one of the members? What if it’s just like a staff or something like why would an actual member be getting their coffee and oh my god that’s the lead singer Jay.”

He laughs shyly at the boy who’s mouth is now wide open pointing excitedly at him, but he quickly shuts up as he spots you. You look so pretty, completely different from when he’d last saw you drenched in coffee and exhaustion all over your face. Right now you looked content and really really pretty.

“Hey Y/N, I know I said I’d give you the money to fix your laptop but I thought you should just have a completely brand new one, I’m really sorry for spilling my coffee on yours, I’m sure you were busy and needed it, I hope you can use this new one well,” his breath hitches as he holds out the bag to you and your fingers touch briefly, “and I hope you liked the show, I see your friends did.” He sends a wave their way and laughs when they all excitedly wave back.

A smile begins to develop on your cheeks and his heart races. This is exactly how he’d like to see you, happy and smiling.

Later that night as you pull out the new laptop determined to finish your nearly complete paper, a small card flutters out with it that reads —

“I wrote this to say not only sorry again, but to also ask if you’d like to go out with me sometime? and I mean it this time, as in I am actually asking you out unlike last time when I, you know accidentally asked you out unintentionally, this time I promise it’s intentional. Please let me make up the god awful first meeting we had, I promise it’ll be worthwhile. You have my number so if you want to then just shoot me a text but if not then that’s fine with me too! – Jay”

A smile forms on your face as you set down the card and get to working on your essay, the answer to Jay’s proposition already clear in your mind. Yes.

coco’s love note: i am so terribly down bad for jay it’s crazy. he’s so just perfect like I adore him so much!! and I’m the biggest rockstar!jay enthusiast like I just had to write something about it, plus I think it’s so adorable how he’s clumsy in this fic but a crazy rager on stage & only mc gets to see both sides of him fully! I hope you enjoyed this fic! As always, feedback & reblogs are appreciated! Thank you for reading <3

enhypen taglist?! @en-fvr @bloom-bloom-pow @nikis-mum @yourlocalhotgf @kyublr @spoooooooooooon @enhacolor @yoongimooni @blaqpinksthectic @gyuuss @eternallyhyucks @dinosdance @simpforsung @misschubswrites @junityy @jjunry @jwonsgirl @fxckingshame @stealanity @haoreo @jxp1t-3r @chaerybae @bobariki @vatterie (bold can’t be tagged!) Wanna be added to the taglist? – Check out THIS post!

[kidney9-9]

A Busy Christmas Season - Tom Holland

Hi hope you enjoy reading this :) thank you! Requests are open and I hope to start writing more soon. Happy holidays!

Tom Holland x Reader [Angst with Happy ending/Fluff] Warnings: Cursing, crying, breakdown Word Count: 2.7k

-

Your eyes widened at the list of preparations for the Christmas party at your work and the other list of Christmas gifts you had to find and buy for your family and friends. And then there was the fact, that your boss decided that you could handle a bit more work with this new assignment that had you researching about celebrities and their favorite restaurants.

Fuck, this was a lot of work for this week. You shouldn’t have waited this long to buy the gifts for your family and friends, but you were waiting for your paycheck that came earlier today, since you didn’t want to dip into your savings account.

You sighed as you put your keys into your car, making sure you had everything with you – your purse, your work laptop, wallet, and phone. You glanced down to your phone as you put your seatbelt on, seeing the screensaver with you and Tom, the picture making you smile briefly. Tom was over at his friend’s place at the moment, so he had no idea that you were going to run some errands for Christmas and work.

You had sung along to the music on your playlist as you drove to a shopping center to buy the supplies for the Christmas party at work and hopefully find some gifts for your friends and family. You groaned as you realized there was traffic on the way there.

By the time you got there, you wasted an extra hour sitting in traffic! It seemed that other people were also Christmas shopping this week, but it still was annoying to deal with, especially when you were on schedule today.

You rushed into the store, grabbing the supplies for the work party, throwing in some extra snacks and drinks. You bought it with the company credit card, sighing in relief when it went through without any trouble.

You ran into another store, buying one of your friends a pair of shoes they said they wanted before. Then found some funny gag gifts for Tom, laughing slightly as you put it in the cart. Then you found a sweet bracelet for another friend, gift cards for a few family members to their favorite places. You got Tom’s family some cozy blankets for the chilly season and a family friendly board game, since you knew they loved playing those.

Finally, the only person you had left to buy a gift for was Tom himself. Sure, you got a few gag gifts for him, but you wanted to get something to show how much you loved him and appreciated him this Christmas.

Checking the time on your phone, you groaned loudly as a surge of panicked stress came up. You only had two hours to bring the supplies to your work and you had to finish that assignment that you hadn’t had time to work on! You quickly bought everything and rushed to your car, accidentally running your cart into the back of someone else’s car as they were backing up.

You gasped as you pulled the cart back, looking at the big scratch and small dent it made on the car. The person honked at you, and you squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, cursing your luck as the person came out of his car, screaming at you.

“How could you not look where you were going, you freak?! Do you know you’re not supposed to be running in a parking lot?!” He yelled, waving his hands to you.

You sighed, “I’m so sorry, what’s your name and phone number? And your insurance? I’ll try my best to fix this as fast as I can, but I need to leave right now.”

He shook his head, “You’re not leaving here until I get video evidence that this happened. We’re going into the store over there to get the evidence. I’m not about to be scammed by a stupid girl like you.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’m not going to scam you? What made you think I was?” Your attitude slipped, and the man’s eyes widened at you.

“There it is, right there, your generation’s behavior is disgusting to its elders. How horrible. I bet you enjoy disrespecting everyone and being a degenerate.” He scoffed at you.

You breathed in deeply, holding back your fuming anger and stress. “You can go into the store. I’m going to let you take a picture of my ID and phone number, because I’m leaving now. And you’re not dragging me into a mess right now, because I already have so much else to do, understand?”

He coughed in shock at your response, “So horrifying to see this behavior in today’s society. I worked so hard for your generation to enjoy its freedom. Now pull out your ID, young lady.”

You rolled your eyes at him and pulled out everything, practically shoving it his way so he could take pictures of it. He even took a picture of your face, close up, saying he needed the evidence in case he wanted to take you to court.

As you finally left the parking lot, you almost sped to your workplace. Once you got there, you took a seat in your office with the supplies in your hands. You looked around in confusion, wondering where your notepad was with all the extra details you needed for your assignment.

“Anyone see my notepad?” You called out, ignoring the fact that you could hear your stress in your voice.

“Patricia threw it out, said it wasn’t festive enough and that you don’t use it.” Your coworker came up to you, glancing into your office.

“What? She did what?” You groaned out, “It had everything I needed! It was a new notepad!”

“Go ask Patricia where she threw it out.” He shrugged back to you. You breathed in deeply, trying to calm your anger and stress.

“Fine. I will.” You spoke softly but anger filled your tone. Patricia was in the break room, sipping some coffee as you walked in. You asked where your notepad was, and she said the janitor already threw the trash out for today and it was out in the back of the building probably. She apologized to you shortly before adding, “You never used it, how was I supposed to know?”

“Maybe don’t go into my office when I’m not there?” You sarcastically shot back. She gasped at your tone, and you ignored it and paced to the garbage cans to the back of the building.

By the time you got back, you were trying to stop yourself from crying and had trash sticking to parts of your outfit. You smelled disgusting, and you felt even worse. Your boss walked up to you and cleared her throat, “You’re needed in my office as soon as possible.”

You nodded shakily, putting your notebook on your desk, and walked with her to her office. “Is this about the office party? I have the supplies at my desk.” You asked her, feeling anxious at the look she sent you.

“No. This is about your attitude to your coworkers. One of them – anonymously, came into my office and begged me to reprimand you for your behavior. They said something about the way you were angry about what they did and that you were mean to them. I have never heard of something like this from you, I’m disappointed. I’m handing your assignment off to William since he has a kinder approach to his coworkers, compared to you at the moment. Check yourself before you come to work again. This will not be acceptable again, this is your official warning.” She lectured you.

You did your best to hold in your gasp and your cries, and nodded silently and left the room. You quickly rushed to your office, and unceremoniously dumped the supplies for the office party in the break room. You stared at Patricia’s coffee mug in the sink, grabbed it and took it with you as you left the office.

You drove home with one hand on the steering wheel and the other hand gripping tightly on Patricia’s ugly coffee mug.

Once you got home, you slammed the door shut and fell to the floor sobbing hard.

“Stupid Patricia, you weirdo. I hope you trip on a fucking Lego.” You sobbed out, clutching the mug in your hands. You didn’t hear Tom approaching you from the kitchen. He gazed at you with full concern and worry.

“Baby?” He called out.

“And – and – old mean man, what the fuck? I hope your license gets taken away.” You sobbed out, hitting your head back against the door repeatedly, not hearing Tom.

“This is all my fault, fuck.” You cried out, dropping the mug to the floor, thankfully not cracking it. Your eyes were squeezed shut and sobs huffed out of your throat.

“Darling! What’s going on?” Tom spoke up louder, dropping on the floor next to you and curling his arms around you, pulling you into his embrace.

“Tom?” you sobbed out, digging your head into neck, trying to breath in without crying again but you couldn’t stop your sobbing.

He rubbed your back with one of his hands and brought the other to the back of your head. He stroked it softly, whispering sweet things to you, “It’s going to be okay, baby. Shh, listen to my voice. You’ve got it, honey.”

You continued to sob for a while until you felt exhausted. The cries slowly turned into sniffles as you slowly blinked into his neck, “I got snot on you…” You whimpered quietly.

“Oh baby, it’s okay. Do you wanna talk about it?” He mumbled back to you, kissing your forehead as he brought you close to him.

“No, not now.” You felt another tear slip and you rolled your eyes, “It’s stupid. Fuck, I still got to get the gifts out of the car.”

“No, it’s not stupid and no, you’re not getting stuff out of the car right now baby. You’re going to go take a bath right now.” He responded to you. He picked you up and you sleepily cuddled into his arms, not refusing him.

“I’m tired.” You yawned as he set you on the bed softly. He hummed back to you with soft eyes looking down at your body. He noticed some of the trash on your outfit, and picked it off, a bit confused, but he didn’t bring it up.

He helped you take your shirt off first, and then your pants, and then the rest of your clothing. You shivered softly and he pulled a blanket on top of you, then rushed to the bathroom and started a warm bath. He lit some of your favorite calming candles and put some lavender bubble bath into the water.

When he walked back into the bedroom, you were slipping to sleep and he smiled down at you, sitting next to you on the bed. He pressed kisses on your face, waking you up just slightly.

“Baby, I’m going to take you to the bath now, is that okay?” He whispered to you, watching as you nodded back to him a yes. He picked you up, holding you close as the blanket fell to the floor from your body. You breathed in deeply, close to his neck again, just enjoying the fact that he was here with you and that he was holding you close.

“Mm, you smell good.” You murmured, and Tom smiled down at you. He slowly placed you into the full bathtub, with a fluffy towel on the edge where he put your neck and head.

“Yeah? I’m wearing the cologne you got me for my birthday.” He whispered back to you, smiling as you blinked slowly at him, waking up a bit.

You looked around, slipping back into awareness, “Oh, Tom…” Your eyes started to tear up and Tom quickly slipped his hand underwater, squeezing yours.

“Aw baby, don’t cry, it’s okay now.” He mumbled to you, kissing your cheek softly.

You pouted at him, eyes still watering, “You’re so sweet, I love you so much.” You sniffled, and he grinned at you, pressing a kiss to your pout.

“Mm, I love you too, honey. You deserve the best in the world.” He whispered back, before helping you wash yourself. He scrubbed your arms with washcloth, dragging soap up and down your body as you rested in the bath.

“Tom?” You hummed out, gazing at him softly. He nodded back for you to continue.

“Thank you. Do you wanna get in?” You asked gently, holding onto one of his hands and squeezing.

He smiled back to you and nodded, “Sure thing, sweetheart. One second.” He pulled back and undressed himself. You scooted to the center of the bath to give him space to get in behind you. Once he settled in, his legs were on either side of your body and you were resting up against his chest. The warmth from his body and the bath made you sleepy again, and you pressed a slow kiss to his arm when you turned to cuddle close to him.

“Love you baby.” He whispered, brushing his hand through your hair. You mumbled it back before you drifted off to sleep, the stress from today washing off of you.

Tom stayed in the tub with you for another thirty minutes, making sure he washed you up good. Once he was ready to get out, he picked you up bridal style and pulled a towel over your body so you wouldn’t get cold.

He placed you on the bed and dried you off with soft and caring hands and then went back into the bathroom to tidy up. When he came back, you were cuddling with one of your favorite blankets on the bed. He smiled at the sight and went to go wash your clothes in the laundry room. Once he tossed them into the washing machine, he went into the kitchen and started making your favorite meal.

It took a little bit of time, thankfully he had the supplies beforehand, and then set it up on the night stand next to you. Before he woke you up, he set up the TV in the room and found one of your comfort shows. He pressed play and put the volume low.

He woke you up with a kiss to your forehead. You blinked up in surprise as the smell of the food hit your nose and you gazed over the room. He set everything up perfectly.

“This is amazing, Tom.” You spoke up softly, gazing to him with love in your eyes. He settled into the bed next to you and kissed your cheek.

“For my perfect girl.” He whispered back, smiling at you as you cuddled close to him again.

“Not that perfect! I can’t find a gift for you for Christmas.” You laughed softly and shook your head.

He raised his eyebrows and then shrugged, “I already got my gift for Christmas. It’s okay.”

“What?” You laughed, a bit confused at his answer.

“Yeah, it’s perfect. My Christmas gift is you, here in my arms, smiling so sweet like that, my love. Thank you.” He murmured to you, kissing your cheek again. You put the dish down on the nightstand before you fully turned to him and put your hands around his body, pulling him into a hug.

“Baby, you’re so kind. I love you so much.” You whispered back.

“I love you too, darling.” He hummed into your embrace.

-

Bonus Scene:

“Wait, that annoying girl threw out your work? And she didn’t get in trouble? I can’t believe that shit…but I’m glad you stole her mug. We could smash it.” Tom suggested to you, tossing the mug in the air, and catching it.

You rolled your eyes but laughed, “I was thinking about doing that, but she’ll probably complain and say that I did it. It’s okay, I’ll just return it to work tomorrow.”

“Also, about that old guy, I’m pretty sure he’s the one that would get in trouble legally for almost hitting you! But don’t worry about it, I’ll deal with him today while you take a break.” Tom brought up and your eyes widened.

“Uh, wait really? I thought I’d get into trouble for running in a parking lot. And what are you going to do about it?” You asked, laughing when he made a funny face.

“I’ll be like James Bond, agent 007 and I’ll do spy things to him, so he doesn’t bother you again.” Tom chuckled back, punching the air.

“You’re so dumb, I love you.” You laughed back and he pulled you into a hug, laughing with you.

[samstclair]

Tommy Shelby's Barmaid

Tommy Shelby X Reader

Anonymous Request - 

Good morning/afternoon/evening/night Sammy Sammy yes I am! So check this out - I just saw Oppenheimer and came to the conclusion that I really miss seeing Cillian Murphy's face. So that night I began rewatching Peaky Blinders and am just in awe. So you know the point. I want to be his barmaid. No hate to Grace, love her, but let a girl just imagine. And that's where you come in. So yeah I wanna be his barmaid and sing to him. Maybe we're off to the races? Do your thing or else I'll might do a thing and report your account! :)

Word Count: pretty long

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"And where are we off to, Miss?" 

"One ticket to London, please!" you told the airport cashier, (or whatever they're called I'm not sure tbh), with your gleeful, bimbo smile. "The UK, one, thought. Not the Ohio one! Can't have that happening again!"

The lady didn't respond, she instead gave you a soft customer service fake ass laugh pretending she knew full well what you were talking about and kept her eyes down on the computer, securing that flight. You no longer trusted yourself to use computers or laptops, thanks to those Benadryl pills you used to be addicted to. But now that you were evicted from your New York apartment, you lost those pills in the process, and honestly all of your personal shit, so you've been forced to quit cold turkey and was actually experiencing withdrawals at the very moment. But, you couldn't let anyone know this! You needed to leave America fast. 

"Okay, to confirm your name, Y/L/N, Y/F/N, correct?" 

"Yes, ma'am!" You passed her your credit card and she did her magic, charging you a fuck ton of money!

The printer pooped out your ticket and she passed both that and your card back to you. 

"Enjoy your flight. Safe travels," the lady wished you. 

"Oh my god, girl, you too!" you wished back. You turned around and found your terminal, buying an expensive Starbucks drink of your choice and plopping your big butt down on a chair. You sat and looked around, sipping your coffee like a mother, taking in your surroundings of this little JFK airport they got going on. 

"I'm really a world traveler right now...like, I'm on some Lewis and Clark shit right now," you thought to yourself. 

You looked down at your luggages, or perhaps, just luggage. All that remained after your eviction just filled one Hello Kitty-themed suitcase you bought from TJ Maxx. You also had your rare vintage Juicy Couture purse you bought from Depop, thats faux leather was literally peeling off like dead skin, filled with all your essentials - lip gloss, nearly dead Elf Bar, crumpled up two-year-Goodwill old receipts, wired headphones because that's what cool people use walking down the street, crystals, loose hair ties, a baby Calico Critter, wire-exposed phone charger, and more that aren't too important to mention. You did miss all your other knick knacks and items that were lost, but since you were traveling light you 1. saved more money since it was just carry-on and 2. looked mysterious, just a girl on the road on her own adventure. 

"After all, items are just like - items. Things." you thought, trying to convince yourself that all material items are just not real and people don't really need those things. This is what you repeated to yourself over and over but in all honesty it wasn't helping. You were fucking pissed you lost all your shit. 

With all your items was your go-to airport fit - a Juicy baby blue tracksuit. So now you resorted to old PJ's you had shoved to the bottom depths of your drawer, wrinkled to the house boots down and forgotten of existence. They were a pair of Nike shorts and a baby tee that read "I <3 Surfer Boys". You then looked down to your white Crocs with the knock-off Jibblitz - the ootd would just have to do. 

As you sat in your terminal, waiting, you thought about what adventures UK would bring to you. You wondered what people you'd encounter, what new storylines you'd get wrapped into, what NPCs would say to you - it really did feel like you were fast-traveling into another country in a video game. 

Safe to say, you were ready for liftoff! Whenever that liftoff! would be because your flight was delayed like three times cause that's just airport things! This was the start of a new adventure! New and humble beginnings! No more America and their never-ending obsession with you committing financial fraud or whatever the IRS loved to say! But never mind that don't ask don't PUSH!!!!!!

Some hours later, you were finally able to board your flight. By this time, let's just say - people were fucking pissed about their flight being delayed, but you didn't really mind it. Yes, you were in a big time rush to leave America as soon as possible, but all that time waiting allowed you to finish the only downloaded show on your phone: LPS Popular. Shit was finally getting heated, Savannah Reed was def the no nonsense type of girl you envisioned yourself to be. 

Anyway whatever you boarded on, took your window seat and went through the usual bullshit of waiting for everyone to board on and take off and turbulence and random ass baby crying and shitty food and whatever. 

About a half hour in the sky, you looked through the catalogue of movies available - none which caught your interest. 

However, after scrolling for another half hour - you found the one. 

"Oh my god, a movie about two lovers flying in the sky staring Cillian Murphy and Rachel McAdams?!" you thought excitedly. "That's some good shit right there."

You hit that play button, scooted deeper into that seat, propped your patas up, and was subsequently locked IN for the short ass movie Red Eye. 

The majority of the plot went over your head because you were to entranced with the Irish actor's cunty little face, sassy little attitude and blue big orbs for eyes, causing you to replay certain scenes over and over. (Specifically that bathroom scene. You didn't miss SHIT there). That hour and a half passed by and the movie had finished. Safe to say, you were NOT expecting any of that shit to go down.

"If that were me, I'd call that fucking hotel before he even told me to. Shit. I get Mark Wahlberg, if I was on that plane, things really would have gone differently," you thought, shaking your head. ]

After your almost seven hour flight, you had finally made it to London Town. It was indeed a stormy day, he was right, but you could go outside and roam around, contrary to popular belief. In order to prep for this trip, you stuck to just watching British films, trying to get an overall vibe of what those little redcoats were like. Pride and Prejudice (2005), Love Actually, Trainspotting, Little Women (Greta's version), Clockwork Orange, Barry Lyndon - let's just say, your Letterboxd was going crazy. You sobbed pretty disgustingly to all of them, except Trainspotting and Clockwork, which made you feel just icky. And Barry Lyndon just made you angry fuck that guy fr. 

A/N - I just realized that Little Women, both Greta's version and the older 90s Winona Ryder one take place, in FACT, America. Oops! So yeah disregard move on u horndog <3

You once thought you were well-rounded on what chaos was, after all, you've been 1. in theater school, 2. briefly in the Medellin cartel, 3. worked in corporate America - but all of those experiences looked like fun Sunday pastimes the moment you stepped your fat butt off of the plane into London's Heathrow airport. Nothing could've prepped you for this shit. Too many people all doing different things in different directions was NOT your favorite place to be in! Let's just say - shit was hectic. 

You boarded off, left your terminal and gathered your one Hello Kitty-themed suitcase and bolted the fuck out, running at your highest speed possibly, your Crocs locked in their sports mode, you just ran. It's what you did best, your superpower some might say. Maybe since Ezra Miller is canceled for being a kidnapper, you could possibly replace the Flash? Who knows tbh. 

You ran so fast, miles and miles, (kilometers here!), you didn't realize you were now standing in front of the Big Ben. It was, admittedly, pretty big. Too bad you couldn't read time like that. 

You looked down to your phone to see your receipt - you needed to be back in three hours for your next flight to Glasgow, Scotland - your actual destination. This London shit? Yeah it was only a layover. But you couldn't miss it. 

You ended up missing it. You fell asleep on the big red bus, thinking you could sneak a little tour in before having to return for your next flight. By the time you woke up, it was morning, and you were alone, just you and your carry on. 

"Ello Miss? Miss?" 

Your eyes fluttered, adjusting to the brightness. A big English dude with missing and fucked up teeth was poking you awake. 

"Bro what?" you muttered, pushing yourself up. 

"Miss, it seems you've drifted off to sleep," the man said.

"Wait," you collected your thoughts, looked around at your surroundings, then down to your phone - your flight was seven hours ago. You felt your heart fall to the acidic pits of your stomach - 

"Ain't no fucking way I'm stuck in London", you blurted out.  "AIN'T NO FUCKING WAY!"

As if you took ten shots of DayQuil, you jumped up, scrambled for your shit and rocked the bus side to side as your Crocs took you across it, out to the exit and back onto the cobblestone streets of London Town. It was cloudy as always. 

"Oh no. Oh fuck. Oh no. NO I CAN'T DO THIS I CAN'T!" you yelled, running back towards the direction of that hell of an airport. You needed to get back. You NEEDED to get back to Scotland, you literally saw Trainspotting just for Scotland!

But alas, it was too late. By the time you made it back to Heathrow, there was no refunding. You would have to pay another fat BUCK to get on another flight. 

"Oh fuck that," you told the English lady. You walked back out, no way this little kingdom was gonna make a profit off of your ass. "I'd rather walk!"

And then you began to walk. Not run, you were a little hungry and needed some energy for that amount of dedication. 

You stopped by a tea place and thought that you might as well have a crumpet or whatever, which sucked ass. They charged so much for what?  A pastry with like three grams of sugar? Girl bye. 

You sat on the curb, looking down at your phone and opening a map, you could literally just walk to Scotland. Yeah it'd be a pretty fat walk, but you might get a crazy BBL ass for free from all the walking. 

"Babes? Are you alroight?" you heard a strong British voice call. You turned and there it was - a chav. A real fucking chav. 

"Oh my god, you guys exist?"

She furrowed her dark over-filled brows as she smacked her nude-lipsticked lips on a piece of gum. There were other chavs behind her, all bleach blonde, overly tan and red ass cheeks. It was like your friend group, but in an alternate universe. 

"Wot?" she asked again, more confused than offended. 

"Listen girl, I don't know if you can tell - but I'm not from here. I need to get to from the UK to Scotland. How does a girl like me do that?"

"Babes? Yor in the UKay, loike, this is London?"

"Huh?" you asked, like Trisha Paytas in the car. 

"Babes," another chimed in, "the UKay is loike, mooltiple places poot into one? Loike, England, Scotland, Ireland, Wales -"

"Oh, so they're all like, the same?"

Their faces dropped with fear. 

"Babes, don't say that. I've just met you, but I'd definitely tell you loike, don't say that around other peepol," the main chav warned. 

"Especially the Irish, yeah," another said. "They'd be mentool."

"Oh, no worries here. I'm an ally to all," you assured, "so do you know where I can rest for the night?"

"Babes!" the chav said excitedly, "I've got family in Birmingham! It's up norf, already on the way for yor travels! I'll text me nana so you can stay there fo free!"

"Babes," you said, you're cheap frugal ass getting hyped, "you're such a babe! Thanks girlie!"

You ended up dropping some money to take an Underground from London to Birmingham, because you then really realized your Crocs could only momentarily take you so far. Also, tat withdrawal wasn't doing you any favors. Anyway you enjoyed the ride, drinking some complimentary tea with your headphones in and disassociating as you looked out the window into the cement walls. You started to regret not bringing some sort of sweater because who would've thought a baby tee and Nike shorts would be enough. Shit was chilly. 

You stepped off into the platform, feeling a strong GUST of wind rush past you. You first kinda enjoyed it like it was some sort of main character moment, but the moment that ghastly smell of smoke hit your nostrils - you went frozen like Mitch McConnell. 

"Jeeeeeesus CHRIST!" you bellowed, "who fucking farted?"

You looked around, but soon became even more confused. Everyone was giving you the hardest stares you've ever received in your lifetime. But it wasn't their stares, no, you've been stared at before for worst things, it was cause of their - fits. 

Everyone was dressed like some 1900s shit. It reminded you of the show Downton Abbey, the show your old boss Logan Roy used to binge. Little particles of what looked like dandruff floated around you and everything else just seemed gray. 

"Wait, are you guys filming?" you asked in your bimbo self, smiling, "did I just walk onto set?"

No one replied. They really thought you were insane. There you were - rough looking, mid-withdrawal, I <3 Surfer Boys, old high school Nike shorts, Crocs, Five Below socks, Dollar Store sunnies, Hello Kitty-themed suitcase and Juicy bag, Elf bar in one hand and your phone with dangling earbuds wrapped around it. They were petrified. 

You grew angry. You just stood there as they stood there too - both you and the Downton Abbey cosplayers were in a stand off.  

"Okay whatever," you said, rolling your eyes. "Stay hating!"

You whipped around and began walking down the pavement, calling, or as the English say "ringing", that chav's nana. However, it rang and rang, you dialed and dialed, the lady was not picking up. 

"Um, what the fuck?" you said looking down at your phone, "can this girl pick up?"

You continued to dial, your other hand to your waist like a Karen. You continued to look around as it rang, really impressed with the set. 

It had been very foggy, and the cobblestone roads led down between old brick buildings where people in their 1920's costumes walked along, smoking and dodging the occasional explosion from the coal-burning coming from inside the buildings. Horses were trotting, carrying hay and other shit. People were yelling in their crazy accents and the dandruff kept raining down. Pillars up in the sky let out dark clouds of smoke. That gross exhaust smell still lingered, and no matter how much Nicki Minaj body spray you put on yourself, there was no way to mask it. 

"Great. I'm homeless AGAIN!" you thought, giving up on that nana. "Whatever. I didn't even want a roof to sleep under anyway. C'est la vie honestly."

The stares did not cease. In fact, it got worse. You knew you were hot but like what the fuck can't a girl just walk and bitches mind their business?

Things were getting worse. The cobblestone ass road made it hard for you to pull your suitcase, so you were just essentially dragging it, you phone was on ten percent, you were hungry and thirsty because let's be real you did not eat much on that train, and honestly just over it. 

You passed all the workers, dodged some random explosions, evaded random running children, spit some of that dandruff out of your mouth. Safe to say, you were angry but needed to persevere!

Eventually it was nighttime. You couldn't really tell if it was night or if it was just the pollution in the air at first, but after asking a random man he assured you it was indeed nighttime. 

"I don't know how you guys live with all this dandruff," you told him, shaking your head. "You guys must be getting paid good as extras."

"Dandruff?" the man said, "that's ash, luv!"

"Thank god, that makes more sense. I was thinking I was gonna need to buy some Heads and Shoulders. I hate Heads and Shoulders."

He continued to look at you weird while he smoke his, what you were pretty sure in the span of you two talking, sixth cigarette. "Heads and shoulders? Fuck are they to do with your hair?"

"I know, horrible branding. I feel bad for the people in Pompeii. They probably thought it was like, a dandruff epidemic."

Eventually the man directed you to the Garrison, which was supposed to be this pub or whatever that all the locals hit up. You really just wanted a drink of water and like Taco Bell or something. Maybe a "Macky D's"? By the time you made it to the establishment, it was midnight, since you took forever cause you kept getting lost. 

It was situated in a weird spot, where several men would occasionally run out and throw up bad on the dirt floor. It sounded hella noisy and rough in there, which was something you were not looking forward to. But again, you're hungry. 

"I'm fucking starving," you thought to yourself as you pushed those heavy doors open, your suitcase getting caught in them. A surge of anger caused you to yank it past the swinging door, causing the it to slam against the wall and crack the glass. You got scared cause you didn't wanna pay for it, so you applied the "hear nothing, see nothing" tactic. It always worked <3

Nothing could've prepared you for when you entered. The energy was just not it. Heathrow vibes for sure. Hoards of drunk ass English men doing, well, things that drunk English men do. They were yelling, cursing, fighting, just being overall very annoying and overwhelming. It took you by surprise, you were just in awe that English were real. It was literally like a Call of Duty lobby but the English colonized it as they always do.  

"These motherfuckers are crazy bro," you thought to yourself, getting a seat at the bar. The bartender made his way to you, and after some hesitation on his end, he finally spoke. 

"Em, what can I get you, ma'am?" he asked, looking at you confused. 

"Y'all got a menu?" 

"I'm sorry?"

"Food, bro. I want food." You were not having it. 

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid there's just drinks here."

"Fine, fucking alcoholics," you said, holding in your hangriness, "what about water?"

"Huh," he thought, "no one ever asks for water. I forgot we served it!"

He turned around and as he began to pour some crusty water into a dusty glass, you felt a tap on your shoulder. But before you could even turn to ask what the fuck whoever wanted what, another big burly English drunk dude was all up in your face. 

"ELLO MISS! MIGHT I HAVE A CHANCE AT BUYIN' YA A DRINK?"

You were flabbergasted. Dude REEKED of some ale. 

"Uh, you stink," was all you could muster, pressing your fingers on your nose. 

His face fell into a very angry one. "YOU FOOCKIN' JEZEBEL!"

You weren't sure what 'jezebel' meant so you just rolled your eyes and turned back to the new glass of water placed in front of you by the bartender, and before he could walk off you downed the entire thing. He, too, like McConnell, was frozen at your abilities. 

"Sorry about that man, Miss," the bartender said as he poured you another. "You're very pretty. Must be getting used to it by now around here."

"Yeah, like, about that," you started, taking your time with the water this time because you didn't know how much they had left in this place, "why is everyone cosplaying? Like, people here are DEEP into their character, which, don't get me wrong - I respect. I used to be a theater major myself, so I get it. But this is like, crazy. I know the English love their theater, but god."

The bartender, with a hypothetical gun to his head, could not for the life of him understand what the fuck you meant. You kinda got that vibe when he didn't reply right away. He actually looked worried for your mental wellbeing. 

"Um, why did you just like, disassociate?" you asked. 

"I'm sorry, Miss," he chuckled nervously, "you've just confused me, is all."

"Yeah, all that alcohol is giving you that early onset dementia. Do you know where I can get food around here?"

"Hmm," he thought, "I don't really know, to be honest with ya. And it's quite late, so I'm not sure what's open."

You could cry. You hated being hungry and tired at the same time, added to literally everything else that was happening around you. You were able to tune out the drunken men yelling behind you, but only to a point - mama was close to blowing. 

"Oh my GOD," you started. "WHAT'S A GIRL TO DO TO GET SOME FUCKING FOOD AROUND HERE?!" you caught yourself. The bartender was growing more concerned. "I'm sorry," you cleared your voice, "it's just like, your queen for real sucked."

"Queen?" he asked. 

"Wow, you're really dedicated to the craft. Like I said, I respect." You continued to drink your water. 

"How'd you end up here in London, anyway?" he asked, leaning against the counter. You later found out his name was Harry, like Styles. 

"Oh, buddy," you said, "what a story I have for you."

You then began to blabber on about what brought you to this point, which helped because it made you forget about your current grievances. Soon, the entire pub went dead quiet, tuned in to your story time. You felt like Tana Mongeau, and these were your viewers. You get why the majority of YouTubers were lowkey conceited. (Not Tana though she's funny love you girl <3). It was like a big kindergarten story time. 

About half an hour later, you were mid-way through. 

"And so, when my boss literally fucking died, I was like, 'oh shit, I've like lost my job by like, proxy'? It was scary."

"How'd he pass?" one of the drunk men asked. 

"Dude, get this. He died getting his phone out of the toilet. Like, some Elvis shit," realizing they wouldn't get what you just said, you thought it best to move right on, "anyway, I was like, 'maybe this is a good time to move on, maybe America isn't the place for me.' I was also wanted by the Men in Black, too. They don't fuck around."

"Who's the Men in Black?" Harry asked. 

"The IRA were after ya?" another asked, in shock.

"I. R.S. It's not important. So, after he died, one of his kids had to be chosen to take over the company. Imagine like a Game of Thrones sort of thing. My on-and-off boyfriend, Kendall, is the oldest so you'd think it'd be him, right? Like, his name was underlined and everything. Or crossed out, you know, is the dress blue and black or white and gold? The day of, I snuck into the building for the board meeting. I wasn't supposed to be there, cause you know, I'm not a share holder or whatever, but I thought 'if I act like nothing happened, maybe technically I'm NOT fired cause my boss died, maybe nobody will say anything?' Confidence takes you a loooong way let me tell you! So at the board meeting, I voted Kendall, but his stupid home alone ass brother Roman was like 'oh YOU'RE still here?'. Then he told me to fuck off and that I should've died with Logan? Could you believe that?"

They were all in shock, muttering angry English curse words to each other. 

"And then I was like, 'no fuck you. What ever happened to democracy? I don't have a vote?'. But whatever, Kendall didn't win and he left the building. No, Horton Hears a Who Tom won, and while everybody was celebrating I was like, 'guys? GUYS! ALL EYES ON WINDOWS! WHERE DID KENDALL GO? All eyes on windows!'. Then I got like, kicked out or whatever. I kept spamming Kendall, texting him and calling him and nothing. Like 'Kenny, wya???'. He was ghosting me. Then I saw right after he put his phone on Do Not Disturb. Targeted, really. I saw his location at Central Park, facing the water, and this had me WORRIED. Kendall and bodies of water? Yeah they don't mix well. I needed to talk to him before he jumped! But when I got there, his new dumbass body guard was like, 'Can you leave? He's not seeing anyone'. I kept calling him, and he wouldn't turn to look at me. He was like, mega dissociating watching that horizon."

"Must've killed him that he's no longer the number one boy," a drunken English man said, somber. 

"Def," you said.

"So you and Kendall?" another asked.

"No more. He never picked up, so I thought we were done," the men in the bar were devastated. "Yeah, really sad. I already mourned, though. So, yeah, I was like, 'what do I do now?' Logan gave me some money, so I can really just do anything? I was walking down the streets of New York and saw a random man in a suit I thought was the IRS, and it hit me - I'm lowkey a fugitive? I need to like, leave. Logan isn't there to protect me anymore, you know? And then it hit me - I'll go to Scotland! In Logan's honor! Like, his hometown. Plus, I thought Scotland didn't have extradition, but it was actually Venezuela. But it's okay, same shit. And that's why I'm here."

"But this is Birmingham?" another man said. 

"Oh, yeah, don't worry I fully aware. But yeah, that's it."

Again, the pub had been silent. They'd been intrigued, captivated. You waited for someone to speak up and break the silence, but about two minutes later you realized that wasn't gonna happen. 

"Okay? Anyway, so nothing to eat here?" you asked Harry. 

He shook his head, stunned. You then slowly crept off the chair, gathered your shit and saw your way out. "Weirdos," you thought. 

You exited back out, it was now fully dark with few lampposts shining light onto the falling dandruff. It all reminded you of exactly where you were - stuck. 

You slumped against the wall, onto the ground where you didn't see any of the mud that splashed all over your shorts. You were too tired and over it to give a fuck. You pulled out your phone, and saw the battery on 2%. 

"Man FUCK!" you exclaimed, "I know damn well none of these Lin Manuel Miranda stans built an electric socket." 

You went on to scroll mindlessly through your feed, which barely loaded because of the lack of signal. You were in the middle of spamming the refresh button until you received a notification from Snapchat that read, "One Year Ago Today". You clicked it open, forgetting you still had that app downloaded, and its contents nearly pushed you over the edge to start balling. 

You clicked play. 

"Oh, don't be a pussy, Greggguh!"

"Mumusdsfjks," Greg said, shoving more marshmallows into his mouth, "Chubb Bunif."

"Sorry, buddy, couldn't hear you!" Tom said, giddy, shoving his own marshmallow down Greg's mouth.

"You got it Greg!" you heard yourself say. 

You wanted to cry. You wished you could just go back to Waystar in that moment, playing the Chubby Bunny challenge with gay lovers Tom and Greg. 

"Man, I miss them," you thought. But alas, that was all gone now...

You quickly closed the video, going to your bank app to see how much money remained. After all, Logan DID leave you with enough, but you couldn't help yourself on those McDonald's breakfast orders through Uber Eats.  

Your tears quickly evaporated like they were put through the snap of Thanos when you got a glance of your credit score though. Oh no. 

"OH MY GOD?!??! MY CREDIT IS AT 400????!!? I'M LIKE, FUCKED?!???!"

"What's a credit score?"

You nearly shit yourself at the deep, sullen voice. You looked up and let's just say - you were intimidated. It's the terrorist dude from Red Eye. He wore a flat cap and a tweed little suit type of fit. 

But it wasn't the tweed that had you transfixed - no, it was those eyes....they were familiar. The last time you felt power of being in a trance like that were those Furbies... it forced you to look at them, you had lost all ability of self-control. They made you question yourself, your purpose and whole life being. They were commanding you with their uncanny valley vibe. Their immense gravity caused all time to slow...

"Dude, put those away!" you yelled, forcing your eyes shut and looking away. 

He didn't reply. 

"I'm sorry," you giggled, realizing he wasn't gonna reply to you and instead just stood there. "I'm just really hungry. You got anything?"

He thought for a moment. "Actually...we don't eat." He had a little sassy, matter-of-factly tone of speaking you fucked with heavily. 

"Yeah, that's why your official dish is tikka masala," a glance of that dish popped into your head. "Man I could fuck that up right now."

"I can take you to my office, I might have something there," he said. You agreed right after, anything would have to do. Little did you know, this would be the man who would save you. Not in a self-fulfilling sense but he'd grab you something to eat. 

You two made it to his office, some ways away. It was just a big ass dark room with tables in the middle, which you would later find out the betting on his horse racing took place. 

You sat down and he took off his coat and goofy ass hat, then went to the back for a moment. You looked around, you felt like you were in a dungeon. You looked down to your phone - shit was dead. 

He came back moments later, with a single loaf of bread he placed in front of you. He then took a seat across from you, took out a cigarette and did what the English do best, smoke. 

You were a bit taken aback, and it definitely showed, since his little sassy face got more sassier. 

"Well?" he bellowed, motioning to the food.

"Honestly," you started, not wanting to offend cause he did scare you (in a hot way), "I don't know what more I was expecting. I know Panera bread when I see it."

You began to eat, he just watched you. You would be annoyed had this been anyone else, but man was too fine. 

Some minutes went by, and he just smoked while you ate. He was definitely a man of few words. 

"You're so mysterious," you said. "Is that your character?"

He took in a big puff and put his feet up on the table like he owned the place, cause he literally did. "You don't belong here."

"Yeah, no fucking shit. I'm supposed to be in Scotland."

"What's in Scotland?" he asked, tapping his cigarette into an empty whiskey glass. 

"Bagpipes, I've heard."

He then leaned to the side, grabbing his cigarette case out and offering you one. You declined. 

"It's okay, I don't like cigarettes. They're gross," you went inside your bag and pulled out your crusty geriatric Elf Bar that was on life support, "here, try this! She's my sidekick!"

He stared at it, not a thought behind those eyes. He then rose up. 

"What about a whiskey, eh?" He went to a table against the wall and poured two glasses. You shrugged at his decline of your Elf Bar, and took some shitty hits cause girl it's dead give it up. 

As he had his back to you pouring the glasses, you really thought about how manly he was, in a way all those Ryan Gosling Drive stans love. He reminded you of those mafia boss fanfics you used to read. The way he spoke was so low and serious, but it made your feet rock like crazy!

He turned back around and placed your glass in front of you. Before he sat, he took a swing of his and literally drank it all in one shot like an animal. Wanting to impress him, you did the same, but soon regretted it right after. You'd tried whiskey before, but that was just not good. It was so strong it burned your esophagus, causing you to feel like you had strep throat all over again. You nearly gagged and threw it up but you couldn't let Tommy see you that way. He was staring. 

"Jesus Christ," you said in a raspy, chain smoker voice, trying to smile through the pain, "that's some real shit right there. I'd much prefer a BuzzBall."

"What brings you to the UK?" he asked again, a little more interrogating. 

"Fine. I'm avoiding parole."

"Parole?"

"Have you ever been on parole?" you asked. 

He took a moment, your question hit hard. "Ever since men like me got back from France, we've always felt we were on parole under the king." He had a sadness to it, which then made you kinda sad. 

"Aww, you're a parole baby <3."

He rose his brows in a "yeah this girl off it" way. 

"Does France give you bad memories?" you asked, wanting to know both out of being a nosy bitch and seeing if you could break him. 

"Most nights," he said. 

"Don't worry, me too."

"You served?"

"I might has well have," you replied, thinking of that past life living with your old boyfriend. 

"I wasn't aware women served."

"We always do," you assured. You kept looking into his eyes like it was a staring contest. 

"What's it you're looking at?"

"You have a very, no-nonsense cunty face. Like BBL," you first smiled telling him that, but it then reminded you of when you told your old boyfriend Kendall the same thing. The thought of him made you sad, you wondered where your number one boy was now...

You didn't realize but Tommy noticed your change in demeanor, initially believing you were thinking about your time during the war in France. He rose and grabbed another drink, placing one in front of you as he killed his in less than a second. 

You snapped out of your sadness. "Oh, no thanks. I don't think I can have anymore. This trip will definitely be very detoxing for me."

You two then sat in comfortable silence for some time, as if you two were both mourning after the innocence lost before France. You were something different for him, a new comfort he couldn't find much else in that polluted ass city. And you found comfort in him, he really did seem like he needed fixing. But that's not what you do, no no, he's a grown ass man and can fix himself. You'll just watch from the sidelines <3. 

Eventually, you stayed in Birmingham. Once you were aware that your money had no value in the UK, you realized you needed to be employed again to save up for Scotland. Dollars, turns out, did not equal shillings and pounds or whatever. Tommy hooked you up after finding out your situation and generously gave you a job at the Garrison as a barmaid, along with Harry, who in time, became your BFF. It wasn't that hard of a job, these men never mixed any drinks and would instead have their alcohol straight like a bunch of monsters, so you kinda ate at this job. Another perk was that these 1920s bitches loved thin eyebrows, so your Y2K overplucked eyebrows fit right in! Full circle shit!

But perhaps the best perk was when Tommy would come in every so often and give you a little LOOK. Oh that shit made you rabid yes it did! It made you all hot down there and you couldn't handle it! You two barely spoke, as he would go into the side room for meetings and whatever mumbo jumbo he got up to with his brothers, but when you did you did your best to bring out that old femme fatale. You knew damn well he'd fuck that shit up. And let's be real so did you. 

You knew that you had Tommy in your CLUTCH when he was once lecturing you - basically there was talk about some Billy Kimber dude amongst him and his brothers and the members of the gang, but you couldn't get past how fun it was to say the man's name, especially in their wild ass accent. You kept incessantly shouting it, to what you thought was a joke, "BILLY FACKIN KIMBA" in every possible moment you could, but it would send all the men into a paranoid shock thinking Billy boy was just around the corner. Obviously, he wasn't, in fact you couldn't point out who Billy Kimber was in a crowd of English, but let's just say - it sent them for a sheer panic. They would constantly tell Tommy to get you to stop, since it was bringing back war trauma basically and never felt fear like that since the war. You personally thought they were being a bunch of pussies but whatevs. 

Anyway Tommy found you at the bar after closing and wanted to have a serious talk with you - no more random BILLY FACKIN KIMBA. As he was lecturing you on the dangers of it, you actually started to disassociate in those eyes of his. You then started to think, 

"What if I just grabbed his hat?"

Those intrusive thoughts grew stronger and stronger as the moments flew by and the more his voice became a bunch of muffled nothing. And they won. 

"GOTCHA HAT!" you spat before taking his flat cap off and running with it, jumping over the bar on some parkour shit and pushing those doors open onto the grimy streets of Birmingham, in an excited manic.  You ran for nothing, since you didn't notice in the adrenaline of it all he didn't move an inch and instead just stood at the bar, stumped. From that point on, he knew you weren't like other girls. Cause let's be real who in their right fucking mind would do that to Tommy Shelby? You did girl xoxo <3

But when your image with Tommy REALLY hit home for the guy, it was one night. One very special night...

You were working the night shift at the Garrison, again. It was another rainy day in London Town, and you were all alone cleaning up. You started to think about Gabbie Hanna, and how low key right she was. You continued to rap to yourself, 

"♪ Overwhelmed, overworked, overpaid. I'm on top of the world sitting pretty ♪ -" 

The doors flew open, causing you to jump pretty high up. You looked to the entrance, it was Tommy. And man was drenched and tired looking, your fave combo. 

He walked over, behind the bar and poured himself a glass of whiskey. He was always a little emo and to himself, but something about him now was really depressing, like man's definitely going through it.

He then took a seat at a table, and looked at you with dead eyes. 

"What's with the frown?" you asked, trying to lighten up the mood but was severely unsuccessful. (Unbeknownst to you he literally just had to put down a horse he thought was cursed :/ it's a canon event!)

He didn't reply. Surprise surprise instead he just drank his whiskey done. You chewed your gum, clueless. 

You just continued to clean, continuing Gabbie's rhyme in your head. 

"♪ Overwhelmed, overwork, underpaid ♪ -"

"Can you sing?"

You turned around again. He fr sounded sad asf. It shocked you, cause did he like, read your mind or sum? 

"Uh, yeah. You want me to sing?"

"Every barmaid knows how to sing."

"Okay, sure. Like acapella?"

He just stared at you, lost again with your mumbo jumbo. 

"Well, I know Lana, I know Nicki, my ex had a song L to the OG-"

"Lana. She sounds nice."

You nodded. "She really is, I love her. Okay, I think I know a song."

"Stand up there," he pointed to a table. You were a bit hesitant, the last time you did that you ate shit like that one girl on YouTube who was also singing on a table and ate shit. But it was for Tommy so you did so anyway. 

You climbed up, took out your gum, flicked it in a bucket, cleared your throat, moved your hair out of your face, and fixed your posture - this was your Pose moment tonight, and Tommy's Billy Porter. 

You then started to sing White Mustang by Lana, but the moment you got to the chorus, which was, well, White Mustang, he told you to stop. 

"Something else, please," he asked demanding yet softly.

"What? Too close to home? Don't worry, Lana does that," you assured, "here, I'll sing a song that hits close to me, it's called How to disappear, it's what do when I'm trying to run from the IRS."

You cleared your throat again and started to sing and girl you ATE THAT SHIT!!!!!

You hit those fucking notes, you were lost in your little own world envisioning yourself in a music video. You understood why America's Got Talent contestants were nervous, cause the pressure? Yeah it's real. And not only is Tommy Billy Porter, he's also Simon Cowell - a yes from that Brit would secure your spot.

Speaking OF Tommy, because momentarily you forgot he was there with you - the man was enthralled, ENCHANTED. He sat silently, the rainwater dripping down his face, as he was taking in every small gesture you made, taking in every musical note that came out of your BBL mouth, (even the voice cracks), and just taking, well, you in. At that very moment, he was in love. YOU were the femme fatale he needed in his life, the one that would complete him, make him feel whole, and would give him purpose. 

Once you were finished, you snapped back into reality and realized you actually weren't in a music video. You looked to Tommy, whose face barely made any other emote other than the one where he looked like he was annoyed, staring up at you. A wave of anxiety flooded over you - you were the center of his world right now, and that pressure was too hot!

You quickly climbed down, and flashed him a big smile. 

"So?" you asked, now LITERALLY feeling more grounded on the ground. 

He didn't respond at first. Moments later, he did. 

"Do you have something nice to wear?"

"Like what?"

"A dress?"

"Um," you thought, trying to remember the contents of your Hello Kitty-themed suitcase, "maybe. Why?"

He rose up, getting ready to leave from the fear and insecurity of the emotions he just experienced. "I want to take you to the races."

"We're gonna race?"

"Horses. Horse races," he corrected you, making his way to the exit. "Be ready by tomorrow, I'll collect you before noon."

"Oh my god, like a date?" you were too slow to come to the conclusion because by that time he'd already left. The excitement quickly mixed in with the anxiety, which wasn't the best feeling in the world. You knew in anticipation for tomorrow you were gonna need SOMETHING to take the edge off, so before closing up you snatched some bottles of alcohol to take to your flat. You weren't really sure what exactly they were, but what you did know was that it was gonna taste like fucking ass. But when mama needs her go go juice, she TAKES her go go juice.

The following morning you woke up at the crack ass of dawn to get ready - you knew you needed TIME. Not that it takes a while for you to get all pretty, girl you're already naturally stunning! but time and place - you needed to stunt today. Also, you already weren't a morning person so you didn't trust yourself to snooze. Actually, you barely slept at all last night since you were too caught up about what makeup you were gonna do, how you were gonna style your hair, what dress to wear and most of all, your ass was just asked out by Tommy. You wondered if this is how nervy the soldiers felt when they encountered bin Laden's bunker. 

You had already finished your makeup and hair, looking pretty snatched. Too bad your phone's been dead for the past couple of weeks and you couldn't take pictures. But anyway you did the usual 1920's makeup tutorial you remember watching on some Buzzfeed video a while ago, pretending you were doing a Vogue makeup tutorial in your mirror and talking step by step your process. You curled your hair into the 1920's bob they were obsessed with back then, packing on an obscene amount of gel just to keep that wave stiff. You struggled but nonetheless you got it girl. 

You were now staring at the remaining contents of your Hello Kitty-themed suitcase - let's just say, you had nothing. That's a lie you did have SOMETHING but was it appropriate for the time? No. Like if you're going to the Renaissance Fair, your ass isn't gonna wear some Skims ass dress. But guess what? That's actually all you had. 

It was a black, tight, spaghetti-strap slip-on dress that was above the knee - definitely NOT the vibe for the era, maybe a bit too revealing? But what other choice do you have? You're I <3 Surfer Boys tee? Exaaaaactly. 

You slipped it on and was taken aback - you know how you forget how good you look when it's been a while since you've dressed up and you actually surprise yourself? Yeah that was you right now. Kim would be proud to see you in that dress, in fact, she'd probably cheer you on to wear it proudly at the races. Even though she wasn't your favorite sister, you imagining her company right now really did help.  

You kept feeling yourself in the mirror - girl you looked GOOD. You put on some black heels, some perfume and that was it - you were simply that bitch now. 

"Oh my god," you thought to yourself, "Tommy's gonna flip. Shit, I'd get with me."

And just like that, you heard the honks of a car coming from outside your flat. You peered through the window, and there you saw some vintage, rinky dink ass car. 

"Oh, fuck!" you shouted, mainly to yourself, but they heard. "Coming!" you called out the window. 

It was actually happening - oh fuck he's here oh yes he is. Quickly, you grabbed one of the bottles you confiscated and took the fattest swig. It was the most horrendous, grotesque warm vodka you've ever consumed. But it would have to do.

You quickly made it downstairs, taking a moment before appearing outside to calm yourself down and make it seem as if you effortlessly just went down some stairs without a care or worry in the world. You made sure to grab a fur coat, faux of course, and your keys. 

Down by the car was Tommy in the driver's seat, with his two brothers, Arthur and John, seated in the back. They all looked at you in awe - they had never seen so much of a woman's legs in their entire life. 

"Bloody foockin' hell, Tommy! What do we have here?!" Arthur exclaimed. 

"Jesus, Tommy," said John, "I didn't think it was bloody possible for you!"

Tommy stared at you for a few seconds longer, a bit taken aback himself. 

Tommy ignored his brothers and exited his side, helping you into the passenger's. You got a whiff of his cologne that brought out an animalistic, innate horndogness of you that you remembered to keep in check. Now was not the time but it was admittedly hard cause the man just looked so good. 

He climbed back into his side, then started driving off, the cobblestone road causing you to feel even more nauseous than you already did. You didn't realize it, but you were mute for the first ten minutes from how disassociated you were. That vodka was hitting deep and swimming in circles in your empty tummy - you hadn't had breakfast, essentially raw dogging and running on nothing, because you knew if you munched on some Panera bread, you would've thrown it up from the nervousness. You were now really accepting the fact that it was a grave mistake. 

"Well, what's wrong with her?" Arthur bellowed, "is her bloody tongue cut off?"

Tommy gave you a quick little side eye, then fully turned to you after realizing you were, indeed, gone. 

"Are you alright?" he asked, concerned with a TOUCH of attitude. Or maybe they were both the same you couldn't differentiate it when it came to Tommy. 

"Uh, yeah," you cleared your throat and sat up straight, "just really taking in the moment, you know? It's my first race."

Tommy turned back to the road. 

"You guys look great!" you complimented, wanting to move on. 

"Why thank you, Miss Y/N. I shall wear your kind words like a medal from tha war," said Arthur. "You look like one of them silent film stars!"

You blushed. "So, wanna listen to some music?" you suggested, hating sitting in quiet cars.

Tommy scrunched his brows. "What do you mean?"

You looked down to where the touchscreen on the car WOULD be, forgetting this car was quite literally just a box on wheels with an engine attached. AUX and Bluetooth are not in the vocabulary of these people's brains for another couple more decades. 

"Like, carpool karaoke," you suggested. 

"What?" John asked. 

"Bloody hell is that?" Arthur also asked. You also forgot, these English men wouldn't face the atrocity that is James Corden in ALSO a couple more decades. 

Tommy scoffed, a small little smile on his face but nonetheless a smile. He gets it. "Singing. She likes to sing."

"Is that right?" smiled Arthur, "wow, you've really done a number on Tommy boy over here! He's now a fan of the musical arts!"

The two brothers began laughing and smacking Tommy on the shoulders and head in a playful, men-in-a-gang, manner. He smirked. 

"I'll start, I have the perfect song - this one's called Off To The Races," you turned to Tommy, "also by Lana."

You two smiled at the little inside joke y'all had going on now. You then started singing, really into it like the night before. You were hitting those "scarlet, starlet" notes a little too good. Once you wrapped up, you left the three men in a silence that lasted for a couple minutes. Except Tommy, he was always silent. But his brothers were a little confused, but decided to just roll with it since you made Tommy happy. You thought they were just floored by your abilities. 

"Lovely," John finally said, hesitant and low to break the silence.  

"You've got yourself a bloody mental one here, Tommy," said Arthur. Tommy smiled, you were indeed a little unwell but it was okay to him. So was he <3

It had been about an hour after your arrival, you had been helping yourself to a shit ton of food by a table, stocking up like a bear ready for hibernation. You were literally the only one there, and you assumed so because the cigarettes and alcohol these Brits were fucking up were acting as appetite suppressants. Your fat ass wasn't complaining. 

Besides being the only one actually eating something of nutritional value, you were getting HEAVY looks and side eyes for your outfit. You didn't care, your ass looked good from all the walking around the pub you've been doing. Upon entering, Tommy noticed the looks to. You whispered in his ear, "it's cause none of these interbred Habsburg jaws know what a real woman a real BITCH looks like 💅." 

He didn't get exactly what you meant, but got the vibe and he liked it. He, actually, loved that you were the center of attention here, as you SHOULD be. Afterwards, he told you he had some business to attend to and knowing you were hungry, led you to the food table. He said he'd get you after he was done, and man was taking his time. But again you didn't care you were just munching away. 

"Try the scone, darling, it's absolutely dashing!" a rich, socialite said to you. Her costume was just as amazing as everyone else. 

"You know, I've been avoiding it but, maybe I will. Why not?" you smiled, grabbing one and taking a chomp. It tasted like actual ass but you have a great poker face. You moaned like Mark Weins, even hitting his crazy facial expressions. "It's great!" you mumbled. She smiled and talked on about something you didn't really pay attention to. 

Eventually, Tommy came up behind you and grabbed your arm gently. Had this been any other man, you would've pistol whipped them in the face with the rock of a scone in your hand, but it was Tommy so you just got all the butterflies inside. You turned and smiled, chewing your food and swallowing it almost hole to say something and not just stand there. 

"Fhey Tomyif," you mumbled through the dry scone. 

"Feeling better, eh?" he said in a low tone. He seem a little more cheery, which made you cheery. He was enjoying himself, as he should. And so were you, as you should. Let's just say, the vibes were good. 

"Omg, def," you said, finally swallowing the last bit of food, "you know, you should try eating something. I know you don't do it much, but, I feel like it can be a great experience for you."

He looked into your eyes. He loved that you cared. A soft smile came on his lips. 

"Not hungry."

You thought for a minute. "But like, I'm pretty sure you haven't eaten since France."

"Maybe later. Do you dance?"

"Do I dance? With a little spicy marg in me, Tommy, it's over." But alas, the bartender would have no clue what a spicy marg was, so you kinda had to retract your statement, "But no yeah I can dance sober too no biggy."

"Good," he said, grabbing your hand gently and leading you to the crowded dance floor. You turned back to wave at the socialite lady, who gave you a little wink. My girl knew you scored. 

All you knew was that the Brits LOVED their Charleston dancing, something that you definitely needed Just Dance to teach you. But she wasn't here. You were frightened at the thought, but when Tommy pulled you in, and you two just started going at it, it was as natural as your BBL ass. That one Pride and Prejudice dancing sequence had you mastered in the art. 

With his hand at your waist and the other in your hand, and your other hand around his neck feeling his buzzcut, there was no force on this earth that could stop you. You honestly just moved your legs around and were great. 

Up close to him, you were again in touch with his cologne. You needed to control yourself, but it didn't help that he was like three inches from your face. In this sea of people, it just felt like you two and no one else. 

As you two were fucking up that dance floor to that 1920s jazz music, you looked around at the other faces of people dancing around you. Some you caught staring, others pretended not to. You smiled at the fact your hot ass was intimidating. 

"Man, if I were to do the Woah here, they'd all lose their fucking minds," you thought. "What if I like, just started twerking? No, I can't. I can't let them win."  You knew those intrusive thoughts cannot get another W against you again. The last time that happened, you were expelled from theater school. You couldn't, you couldn't embarrass Tommy - but the urge was too strong. 

Almost as if Tommy read your mind, he pulled you aside the dance floor. 

"I want to introduce you to someone," he said. He then took you to a table where a man with the craziest middle part and mustache sat, beside another who looked like an owl with glasses and other carbon copies of English dudes. At the table was a fuck ton of coins and money, along with drinks and clouds of cigarette smoke from ashtrays. 

"Y/N, this is Billy Kimber. He owns the tracks here," Tommy said. Oh my god it's him, its Billy fackin Kimba...

You weren't sure why Tommy would introduce you, but you took it as a compliment. Maybe he just wanted to stunt on this guy? Who knows. 

The man with the goofy ass fucking name had a wry grin on his face that you did not like at all. The vibe was not good no more around this guy. He stuck out his hand to you, and you obliged very hesitantly. He grabbed your hand and kissed it. With that a wave of disgust flew over you, feeling as though you've been stained. Ew gross. 

"Lovely ta meet ya," the man said. He rose, "Mista Shelby, might I ask your lady for a dance?" 

"Oh, no thanks! <3" you said, a welcoming smile on your face. Tommy and Billy both looked at you as if you just said the most out of pocket shit. The owl man and English robots also gave you daring looks.

"Wot?" Kimber spat. 

You almost laughed. 

"Uh, yeah like, I don't wanna dance." you said, mimicking Tana Mongeau's "a bleach and tone".

Billy saw absolute red. He was livid. He turned to Tommy, who, too, was speechless. 

"The fuck are you on about?" Billy spat again. You really weren't sure what he didn't understand.  

You then realized - there was no getting out of this. You didn't want to cause a scene, cause you kinda already did. So you again invited those intrusive thoughts. 

"Fine," you said, clearing your throat and standing straight. "I'll dance."

You then pretended to throw something in the air, looking up in an anticipatory, worried way. They all looked up too, confused. 

"Oh my god, do you see it? Mr. Kimber, where is it?!" you said as if a bomb were to fall. 

He looked up and then to you, growing increasingly worried. He was too in shock to speak. 

"Where is it?! Where is it?! Do you see it?!" you kept looking up at basically nothing, but you knew it was something. You kept them on their toes, scared at this point. Your feet dancing softly, they were ready for impact. It was time to come down. "There! There it is and -"

With that, you pulled it down and committed the hardest, most nastiest Woah you've ever done. The last time it was that riveting was during middle school lunches. 

When you brought that down, the pose you ended on had your head down and body limp, as if you were Aang in the Avatar state during the episode where he was fighting Zuko's papa and had to unlock and harness such force.

You left them taken aback, disoriented. They didn't know what to do or how to react. You looked fucking insane. 

You took a deep breath and stood back up straight, satisfied. Once you realized that the room had fallen completely silent, even the musicians, you felt you needed to excuse yourself. 

"Um, so," you struggled to find the words. You felt the anxiety creeping up again, the lightheadedness arising. And most of all, it was time for you to empty yourself. "I've, uh," you thought harder and harder - "I'VE GOT AN ITCHY BUM!"

You split, running and running as fast as your pumps could take you. You ran and ran, it was always the most liberating activity honestly. All that dancing with Tommy, the nerves piled up along with the hors d'oeuvres - they lead to this very moment. 

You searched round and round, desperately for a bathroom. No where in this bitch was there a sign or indication, and time was running slim. This was some real Mission Impossible, Tom Cruise is on a time crunch, shit. You pushed through crowds of drunk, belligerent and yelling people, feeling your body slowly succumb to the intense body heat. 

Eventually, you spotted a familiar face. You ran. 

"Arthur!" you yelled. He spun and looked back to you. 

"Y/N! What is it?" he asked, worried. You looked a bit wild. "Are you alright? Where's Tommy?"

"He's fine, he's," you thought, "somewhere. Look, it doesn't fucking matter."

"The mouth on you -"

"Where the fuck is the bathroom in this bitch? Huh? The loo? The toilet? The washroom whatever the fuck y'all call it?"

"Well, I was on me way. It's just over there -" he pointed and you bolted. 

As you were entering, you literally ran full force into the socialite from earlier. She wasn't angry, just like Arthur, worried. 

"You look absolutely GHASTLY darling!"

"Girl move -"

You went into one of the stalls and laid your worst. Thankfully since it was a Skims dress, all you had to do was pull your Victoria Secret thong off and go. You felt bad for the ladies in their dresses and stockings and shit here - convenience was definitely not a factor yet. 

After you cleared your business, (and subsequently the whole bathroom), you stepped out of your stall, refreshed and effortless. You washed your hands, fixed your hair and makeup just a bit in the mirror, and felt yourself again. You took mental selfies, since it was all you had. 

As you left the bathroom, you heard the grunts and yells of men. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence, but it sounded like some shit was fr going down. You crept to the source of the noise, coming from the men's bathroom. At first, you thought someone was probably constipated, but instead it was Arthur, John and a few others absolutely rocking this guy's shit. They were beating him, cutting him with the razors sewn into their goofy caps, and curb stomping his head into the sink. So sink stomping? 

You made a gross face and walked back out. "Yeesh."

After all, it wasn't the first time you were so close to the mob.

 You remember your number one golden rule you learned from earlier during your time with Pablo: Hear nothing, see nothing!

After walking past the dance floor again, you were relieved to see that everyone and everything had gone back to normal - people were back to dancing, drinking and chatting - back to the script. You actually forgot this was supposed to be a horse race. 

But, there was no Tommy anywhere. You searched and searched, yet you couldn't find that 75% shaved head anywhere. 

You then walked back outside by the entrance, where you saw a woman smoking. You went up to her. 

"May I bum a smoke?" you asked in your best English accent, trying to speak their language. She turned to you and pulled one out, lighting it for you. "Thank you so much, you look lovely, darling."

The woman smiled. You loved hyping the girls up!

"You too. I must admit, I find your choice in wardrobe absolutely admirable and daring!"

You smiled, "Aww, really?" you quickly corrected your accent, "Oh dear, many thanks, many thanks yes."

You took a hit of that cigarette. Shit was gross. But when in Rome...

You and the woman spoke for some time, deep in conversation. It was refreshing to meet another girl here, safe to just talk shit and have a break from all the drunken men and oh no there's Tommy. 

You saw him approaching you and he looked again, upset and emo. It didn't exactly burst your bubble, you really liked Tommy, but were afraid that you possibly embarrassed him in front of the Bilbo Timberland from earlier. 

You bided the woman goodbye and walked towards Tommy. He then took you two back to his car and started off onto the road. By now, it was nearing evening. The car ride was pretty silent, you were looking out admiring the brief countryside. Shit was beautiful like a Microsoft Home Screen. 

"So, what's wrong?" you asked. "You're like, down in the dumps again. And where are your brothers?"

"They'll find their own way home," Tommy said, low and serious, the usual. 

"So is that it? Y'all got into a fight or something?"

He let out a deep breath. "I told Billy Kimber he could have a dance with you."

"Ew, why?"

"Well," he didn't want to say 'business', cause like okayyyyy shout out to 1920's gender roles!, "because you look...nice. You look pretty."

You blushed hard, trying to control your smile. Seeing this side of Tommy was like a sneak peak, it was so exclusive!

"Oh my god, Tommy, are you flirting with me? I didn't even know you had that setting available!"

He smirked, his frown OFFICIALLY being turned upside down. He chucked in disbelief of himself. He was falling. 

Once you made it back to the neighborhood, the sun had gone down and the streets were once again pretty dark. Smoky depressing England like what the Smiths wrote about you get the vibe. 

Anyway he took you to his flat, saying that he wanted to "show you something". You weren't sure what that something was, it could've honestly been like a dead body but actually it wasn't! It was dinner <3

"I've uh," he started, not crazy about the fact that he was falling for you, "I've prepared dinner."

You gasped and made a very soy ass face. How absolutely gentlemanly of him!

"Oh my god, no you didn't Tommy!" you said, "You're so sweet, that's like, so sweet! You shouldn't have!"

He smiled softly, in a "yeah I did that" sort of way. And he did just that. You were 90% sure whatever was inside he didn't cook, but it's the THOUGHT that counts!

He escorted you inside like the gentlemen he was, shutting the front door behind you two. The lights inside the flat were dim, and by the table were two plates. Upon closer inspection, you were absolutely FLOORED!!!!

"No way - tikka fucking masala?!" you exclaimed. He chuckled and it was hot. 

You walked closer and saw two very familiar, VERY FAMILIAR, colorful orbs. You turned them to the side. All this time since you'd last seen one, you forgot what they were or looked like. 

"AND FUCKING BUZZBALLS?!?!?!" you said. "Tommy, how the fuck did you even get these?"

He pulled the chair out for you, and you scooted your big fat butt in. 

"I know people. It's my job."

You couldn't help but smirk.

"It's so hot when a man has connections," your dirty Jezebel mind thought. 

He cracked the BuzzBalls opened and poured them for each of you, like it was some high end expensive ass champagne. You watched him, relishing in the moment - you had your GRIP on this man. Chivalry was in fact, despite popular belief, not dead. But it was also the 1920s so you forgot about that bit. 

You looked down at your plate - you were going to fuck. this. up. He'd never seen this side of you - the side that would tear your meal like a fucking ape cracking open a coconut with a rock for water. You thought if you should warn him, but told yourself - he needs to know ME for ME. 

You gripped that naan, grabbed a fat ass chunk of that chicken - and the moment it hit your lips, you had started giggling like Mark Weins again but subtract the poker face. You had forgotten the long lost love of spice other than pepper and salt. You could've cried if it hadn't been for the fact your makeup looked too good. 

You two dined and wined (there's no wine) for the next hour, talking and talking and chewing and chewing. Seeing him eat was hard for your mind to process, you just never thought he was capable of it. Anyway as he was talking you felt bad because you were zoning out looking at him as if he was another dish of tikka masala. He had such a sigma vibe to him, maybe alpha? (I don't know I'm not familiar with gym bro brain rot TikTok lingo but you get the vibe.) He was just so manly and yet so gentle and calculating, it kinda scared you because like he could literally have everything set up to kill you right now and you wouldn't know cause you were too charmed. But then you realized, he wouldn't have done all this shit for someone he wanted dead. No girl, he just wanted YOU! Your toes tickled at the thought, and those butterflies? They were fluttering. 

For the first time, you had anxiety but hadn't felt the need to shit yet. You weren't sure if it was the alcohol calming your nerves, or the chill vintage ambience going on, or Tommy's comfortable/intimidating presence. In other words, this felt natural and you were fucking with it. 

There were several times you needed to burp, but forgetting you weren't with your girls, you had to swallow that shit deep. After all, girls don't burp. You tried to keep your femme fatale composure. 

You were the light he needed in his very dark emo life. It had been a very long time since he had a genuine laugh, despite the fact he might have had no idea what the fuck you were talking about or saying half the time, but seeing you all bubbly and happy made him feel content. He was finally being vulnerable, letting go a little and just, well, living life. Being free. #livelaughlove

"What will you do? When you've saved enough for Scotland?" he asked. 

The idea brought you down a bit. You forgot about that shit. "Oh, well, I don't know. I kinda like the barmaid stuff, so maybe I'll try to find something similar there?"

You were eating his leftovers. He didn't eat much but liked watching you eat like it was a mukbang. He loved a girl who eats. 

"Why don't you stay?" he asked, avoiding eye contact with you as he poured himself another BuzzBall. You could tell he wasn't a fan but drank it anyway for you because you liked it. 

You again couldn't help but smirk. You loved seeing a guy CRACK!!!

"Do you want me to?" you asked, biting your tongue like the white mom. You hadn't done that in a while either, this English life didn't permit it. 

He took a sip from his drink. "Perhaps you'd be interested in working for me."

"Aren't I already, low-key though?"

"Garrison's not mine," he said. "Do you know anything about bookkeeping?"

He lit a cigarette and offered you one. You took it, not wanting to offend. 

"Well, I gotta tell you," you said, "math is NOT my forte. But oh my god yes babe thanks!"

You ran over and jumped to hug him, he hugged tightly back, he then threw you on the hard table, pushing everything to the floor and you felt his member pressed against your leg. He began kissing you, his tongue licking your lips for entrance. You let him in. Your tongues fought for dominance but you let him win. He eventually started going down on you, taking your Skims dress clean off, and started kissing your labia.

"This...this is a bloody fucking labia," he says. 

You lifted your legs as he began to eat you out, his wet breath on your cooter. He held your foot up and raised himself, ready to press his member into your entrance. Your eyes were closed, ready to take the boy from Birmingham in. This is it. No missed flights, no drunk men to call you Jezebels, no lung cancer from cigarettes and factory smoke, no IRS or IRA, nothing - just you and Tommy.

You and Tommy laid on his bed, in each other's arms. Since his bed was high-key smaller than a twin, it was pretty cramped, but neither of you minded. You two were smoking (him a cigarette and you your Elf bar), reminding you of that one band Cigarettes after Sex and how Tommy would've liked them, but they wouldn't drop music for another couple years in this time zone. 

You two talked softly as the rain patterned on the window's glass, some of the street lights peering through the curtain. If there was some incense on, it'd be a vibe. You originally thought his opium pipe was an incense holder but you were very mistaken. 

" - so yeah, that's why people picked team Jolie. But in all honesty, I feel bad for Jennifer, you know? Like, he literally cheated on her. Over what? A fucky boof ass movie? It was ass," you hit your Elf bar, refusing to accept it was dead. "I guess it doesn't matter now, cause NONE of them are together anymore. So what do you think? Aniston or Jolie?"

He took a drag of cigarette as he stared at the ceiling. He made an unsure face. 

"I'm not familiar with them."

"True. Fine, let me think of something you'd know. Like something English drama," you thought. "Okay, team Blur or team Oasis? I hear there was a lot of blood shed during the battle of Britpop."

He again took another drag of his cigarette. Anyone would be looking at this and thinking he found you hella annoying, but he didn't. He just genuinely thought you had a great imagination. 

"Neither, I guess. I don't have time to listen to music."

He was right, which was why he loved when you sang at the pub and most of all, to him during your private Lana concerts. 

As time went on, you were in DEEP. Scotland? Yeah never heard of her. Not only were you working for Tommy doing whatever bookkeeping is, but he had even introduced you to his family, which you KNOW damn well is a sign that shit is serious. 

You loved the Shelby's, even though they were a bit off their shit sometimes. But it wasn't anything new, you'd been well familiar with crazy families before. You loved talking shit with Polly, going to the 'cinema' with Ada, fucking with Arthur until he got mad, supplying John with his toothpicks and making little Finn believe in the fake number 'derf'. You got along with them well, they saw you as a perfect fit for the family - something different, vibrant and bright! You loved them and they loved you! Polly would even tell you in confidence that you made Tommy a happier person, something he lost after the war. Getting Polly's stamp of approval was literally it, that's all you needed. 

And you and Tommy? Yeah y'all were a thing. An item. During work hours he'd give you little looks here and there, and so did you, as if it was some secret office romance. But it wasn't secret literally everyone knew you were his girl. And that's power. 

You learned the ropes pretty fast, again it wasn't your first rodeo in the mob. It was like Colombia all over again, but we don't talk about that. Tommy fucked with you having a secretive criminal past, he thought it was pretty hot. 

Besides bookkeeping, you still worked in the bar. All the patrons loved when you sang Lana, it just went on to prove that she's indeed a poet. They eventually memorized them and sang along, which annoyed you sometimes cause you just wanted to hear yourself and they sounded like ass when they were drunk. But you just go along with it! 

Some of the songs you in the pub (and Tommy's room) sang included:

Bartender (cause hello? You're LITERALLY at a bar)

Shades of Cool (for Tommy's big blue ass eyes (you wished they could hear that guitar solo cause the acapella didn't do it justice :( ))

Cola (singing this for the fist time made you realize you had to censor a couple things, they weren't a fan of that intro)

Stargirl's Interlude (Lana's part obvi, but it's again for Tommy cause he's your starboy <3 he loved when you hit those high notes)

Brooklyn Baby (you avoided it cause it reminded you of your ex)

Video Games (hello it's for Tommy)

Love Song (this makes them all cry)

Money Power Glory (again hello it's Tommy, but this wouldn't hit until he's a member in Parliament)

National Anthem (being in England for so long made you forget the United States anthem)

Fucked My Way Up To The Top (literally you rn)

Speaking OF a bunch of drunk men, the gang loved you. You thought you were like the comedic relief of the little theater thing they had going on here. You had to admit, you admired the method acting everyone had done so far. It only, to you, proved that it worked, since you were GENUINELY left in deep in a psychosis where you're just a 1920's flapper girl. 

There was some rules and etiquettes you needed to remember, however. One, was of course, the "BILLY FACKIN KIMBA", and another was you finding out Tommy did NOT fuck with brujeria or anything dark magic related. You thought it was kinda funny, he reminded you of those Reddit r/atheist accounts but at the same time, he was low-key scared of zodiacs. Not that he didn't like it, he was paranoid at them. You literally asked his zodiac sign and he responded very sternly and seriously, 

"Y/N, don't."

You then said. "That's a very Capricorn thing to say."

Besides that, everything was great and chill.

It wasn't long before this annoying ass Irish inspector dude pulled up to the pub. Once he saw you, he locked eyes with you and approached the bar. You didn't like his vibe in the slightest. In fact, no one in the pub liked his vibe either. They all fell silent when he entered. 

"Excuse, me, ma'am," he said. You turned, not really wanting to talk. 

"Yeah, what?"

"Do you know about a Thomas Shelby?" 

"Yeah, what about him?" you didn't fuck with anyone who referred to Tommy as Thomas. Like?

"Do you know where I can find him?"

You were really starting to not fuck with his vibe even more. Something was def fishy. 

"You should really go back to being with the dinosaurs," you said. He didn't like that. 

He leaned in. "Do you know who I am? Who do ya think you arrrrrre?" the R's went very crazy. 

And just in time, as if he was your guardian angel, Tommy opened the doors to the little room beside the bar. Babes was hearing everything and he was NOT gonna let this dude talk shit to his girl like that. 

"You need to speak to me? Inspector Campbell, is it?" he said. "I've read about you in the papers."

Tommy then took Campbell soup outside to speak. Before leaving, he (Tommy) gave you a wink and you winked back. You knew that was code for 'let's hit my flat later'. Little did you know, this would be the last time.....

P.S. - when you asked one of the men at the pub who he was and someone replied IRA, you originally interpreted that as the Irish IRS and shat yourself. You didn't know how to tell Tommy your time was ticking, they'd located you - but you were not going down without a fight. 

You were both in his bedroom as usual, he was lying in bed smoking, you were hitting the Elf bar, rain pattering, English people yelling outside yeah you get the vibe. Anyway, he asked you to sing - a request you took quite seriously. You knew this was his only time of relaxation and you had to make the best of it before you break the news you needed to escape again.

You rose, sitting up and looking down at his BBL face. 

"Lana or Nicki?"

"Lana."

"Can I do Nicki? You never ask for her."

He took a drag and nodded. "Go ahead."

This, now this would be where you fucked up. Let's just say, you wish you could wipe out this night from your memory. Alas, all things need to come to an end, even the good ones, unfortunately. You'd never thought it would be like this though tbh. 

You stood up on the bed, as usual, cleared your throat all that bullshit. You thought and thought, "what's a good Nicki song? What's fitting?"

And then it hit you - it was definitely a deep cut. 

He had a soft smile on his lips, watching you as you were thinking. Little did he know, you were going to harness a part of yourself you hadn't seen in a while. This was a mode you unlocked that was such a release after, and you knew you had to go all or nothing. 

You cleared your throat. 

"Okay, so this one's kinda not AS well known, but it has British themes I think work well," you prefaced. "Okay, here I go."

The moment you opened your mouth, you let the spirit of Nicki come in. And once she's in, there's no going back. And Tommy was not prepared for that. You then started Nicki's verse in Sean Kingston's "Born To Be Wild".  

"♪ If you will die, then why would you try and if you reply, a suit and a tie is what I will buy then you will be mine because you and I were born to be wild, I am Martha you King Arthur who knew you would land me, I’ve been known to eat these rappers, cook em like chef Ramsey - ♪"

You were too deep to notice Tommy's rapid increasing worry and fear as you spat out those lyrics. It was too overstimulating for him to handle. You ate, but that was just want concerned him - he didn't know you were rapping. In fact, no one at this current time did. 

" ♪ - Mission accomplished, your my accomplice cover of vogue yeah ima go topless ima go bonkers ima go crazy ima get reckless then have a baby then hang the baby off the balcony teach him to moon walk tell em he's Japanese - ♪ "

No, he thought you were putting a curse on him. No, he was CONVINCED. 

"Stop! STOP!" Tommy rose from his bed, pushing the sheets off of him. 

You were shaken out of your trance, confused. You became worried, what happened? Did you miss something? Were y'all in danger?

"Wait, Tommy -"

"Enough! Stop!" you had never seen panic in that man's eyes. Never. And you didn't like it. He was looking straight at you, talking to YOU. 

"Stop what -"

"You're a bloody fucking witch!" he yelled, rubbing his hand through his hair while the other TIGHT on his hip. This was his evaluating stance. "That's what this is - that's what it's been."

"Uh, Tommy," you said, more annoyed that he interrupted your moment, "I'm no witch. I'm just, well, Y/N."

He took a deep breath, now facing away from you. He couldn't believe it. All this time, all that mumbo jumbo that came out of your mouth, all this time - they were just that. Curses. No wonder he didn't understand them, you were literally speaking in tongues this whole time. 

You walked towards him, slowly. This man needed that opium right now. 

"Tommy -"

"Leave. LEAVE!" he yelled, grabbing your messy bun, and doing what you didn't think would happen again for a very long time - he beybladed you. 

Spin. Spin. Spin.

"LET IT BLOODY RIP!"

And there it was. 

And there you went. 

He twisted you in the air round and round, ready for a different kind of liftoff. He flung you out the window, you crashed through and onto the cobblestone streets of Birmingham. 

That was it. All these months, all this rehearsing - it all came to an end. On a random Tuesday evening? The Tommy you once thought you knew was no more - after all this time, he never trusted you? Didn't he know who you were? Like dude he watched you be vulnerable at fuck up a tikka masala. TWO of them at that. 

Anyway, you realized maybe the entirety of UK just wasn't your vibe, anyway. With this 'IRA' now in town, your ass needed to be grass. Before leaving, you broke into his horse racing betting place whatever it's called and committed a little fun heist, taking all the money. What? A girl needed to sustain herself in this economy. Dog eat dog world shit. And plus, all your stuff was back at his apartment and you were DEF not gonna go back. Who knows? Was HE working for the Men In Black? Wining and dining you to gain his trust and he turned you in? Maybe he did you a favor in the end. 

And maybe you could upgrade to the latest iPhone when you got to London with all this horse money? With a shilling and a pound, the possibilities seemed endless. 

You walked down the streets, sad, but again more confused and a little relieved, onto your next destination, wherever that maybe. Anywhere Y/N went, it was all just a big adventure of a girl having fun being, well, just a girl having fun in this world. And THAT'S all that matters. 

Hope you enjoyed!

xoxo, 

~Sam St. Clair

[rogerswifesblog-updates]

Chapter 5 - it’s all about the…

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

Previous chapter

A/N: Hi! I’m sorry for not updating so long but I’m busy with work and also the 1K follower special on my main blog ( @rogerswifesblog )! I hope you’ll enjoyed this chapter<3 Please let me know how you like it<3

Summary: You get an unexpected call in the middle of the nights. Everything changes after.

Warnings: mention homophobia, harassment, injury, blood, hurt Stevie:(

This time Steve stayed for four days at your place, but after noticing how much he enjoyed waking up in your home, eating with you whenever you made something to eat for him (even when you often forgot to eat yourself, you always made sure Steve didn’t). And Steve felt…at peace. Good. In a way he hasn’t in a while. He liked how you took care of him, not with money, but with these little gestures like massaging his shoulders when he sat hunched over his sketchbook complaining about his tense muscles.

He knew he shouldn’t feel like this.

Not when everything you did was because you were supposed to do it. Steve knew he accompanied you because you paid for it.

And he was stupid for enjoying it so much.

After you drove him home, once again with huge grocery bags and all his new clothes. This time you even had to help him carry it all to his apartment. (Maybe he should’ve called Clint instead of asking you? He felt awkward opening his apartment door to you, showing you how much different your living quarters were. And he was also terrified of Bucky or Sam hearing you and deciding to…introduce themselves. He hadn’t told them everything about you, yet, especially how big the age gap was…).

Thankfully nobody was home, well, at least nobody greeted you, which made him unintentionally sigh. “That’d be all. I should go to work now”, you smiled, wrapping your arms around Steve’s midsection and leaning your head against his chest.

You may stop being so attached to the young man, especially since he didn’t feel the same. You were literally paying him to be like this. To hug you back, rub his hands along your back and brush through your hair. Spend time with you, making you feel loved.

It’s all because of the money.

Nothing more.

To him.

But you?

Oh you knew you fucked up, already.

You were falling for him.

Every Time you spend another day, another moment with him, you are falling more, more, more…

Steve was incredible, nice and ridiculously attractive.

He could never fall in love with you. To him you were just there to fill his wallet and pay for his needs. You were too old, too boring and too overworked. Steve could have any girl his age.

Day after day, the time went by and you definitely felt your heart tingle whenever the young man texted you, which he actually did quite often, sometimes just to ask you how your day was. Sometimes you two went on dates, ate lunch together or grabbed a coffee before Steve’s classes started.

It was nice. Even a bit…like a real relationship. You enjoyed it a lot, even without having sex. Of course there was some intimacy, some touches and kisses. Steve loved making you feel good, especially after buying him a laptop, another pair of shoes or the occasional groceries. Even after telling him he didn’t need to do anything for the money, he wanted to. He said he enjoyed it. He liked kissing your throat, feeling your thighs trembling around his head, your taste on his tongue. It was addicting.

But you knew, to him there were no feelings involved.

At least that’s what you thought.

So it surprised you when a phone call woke you up, in the middle of the night. Steve’s picture lit up, the time showing it was past three in the morning. “Steve? Is everything okay?”, you mumbled tiredly. There was some shuffling on the other side, a quiet sob and wet gasping. “Steve? What’s wrong? Talk to me.” Still not hearing an answer made you feel anxious. The tiredness now gone, fear creeping up in your chest.

“Can you…can you get me? I got jumped-at the club”, he hiccuped, his voice sounding weak. You didn’t even notice when you had left the bed and started putting some clothes on-not caring about looking fashionable or classy, just quickly throwing on a hoodie and sweatpants. “I’ll be right there-don’t-dont go anywhere. Stay where you are-and don’t hang up, Steve.” Within minutes you were already on the road racing to the club Steve still sometimes worked at. After today you’d definitely tell him to finally quit. You’ve always been scared of a situation like this.

You definitely drive over a red light, or maybe two. Your chest felt incredibly tight, imagining in what condition Steve was. It sounded serious. There was still some quiet painful gasping coming from the other side, while you slowly pulled over at the club Steve should be at.

But he wasn’t anywhere at the front, making you feel even more anxious. Just when you wanted to ask him where exactly he was you noticed a sitting silhouette in the alleyway.

“Oh Steve, here you are”, you mumbled, kneeling down to him, gently brushing over his hair. Steve lifted his head, his face bloody and swollen, the beautiful blues red from crying. You could see it all in this dim light. God, you didn’t want to know how he felt. “Oh baby, I get you to the hospital and then-” “no-just home. I’ll be fine. Nose isn’t broken…some bruises…split lip..”, he mumbled, while you helped him up.

When you finally sat back in your car and you could finally really look at him. His nose didn’t seem broken, but it definitely did bleed a bit, his clothes were torn and bloody, too. “Who did this to you Steve?”, you asked quietly, still feeling your heart throb uncontrollably. Out of the corner of your eyes you could see him shrug.

“Four guys…I’m assuming homophobes since they called me…names. Said people like me are trash and stuff. I didn’t know them, but I think they assumed I’m gay since the club is lgbt friendly. Everyone knows it”, he looked back at you, the corners of his mouth twitched upwards. “At least now you can believe me I got into fights a lot…” He made it sound like a joke but you knew he didn’t find it funny himself.

For the first time in his life he had actually been scared in a fight.

Because it wasn’t a fight.

Steve was beaten. He knew they wouldn’t have stopped till he stopped moving-that’s the only reason they let go of him, after he acted unconscious.

And he felt even worse about acting like that. Like a coward. But he was alone and they took him by surprise, so what was he supposed to do? He tried to fight back. He really did. But…

He sighed.

“I’m sorry for waking you and…for all this. I shouldn’t have done that. I think…I think I just panicked. You can drive me home if I’m annoying you”, he mumbled, looking out of the window. Ashamed.

You looked at him for a second, before needing to concentrate on the road again. “Steve, please don’t feel like that. You’re going home with me tonight and I’m taking care of you, okay? That’s exactly what I’m here for. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there”, your voice was gentle, while you took Steve’s hand, squeezing, but he still wasn’t looking at you.

Only a couple minutes later you drove into your garage, guiding Steve into your home and onto the couch, where he sat down. His clothes were definitely unwearable for the future-the people really made sure to show Steve how they felt.

And it made your blood boil.

You wouldn’t stop till you’d find out who did this to him.

And you’d personally take care of them.

To help Steve clean his wounds you grabbed the first aid kit and sat down next to him, close enough for your thighs to touch. Looking him over again made your hands tremble from the anger you were holding in.

“Maybe let’s get you out of these clothes first, hm? And maybe a shower would be good first”, you mumbled, licking over your thumb and wiping away some of the dirt from his face. Feeling you rub your finger over his face made him blush a dark red, while he looked at you from under his eyelashes. A tingle expanding in his whole chest, his breath hitching a bit.

It was such a little gesture but made him feel so…

So safe.

He couldn’t stop himself from launching forward and pressing his lips onto yours.

To say it surprised you was an understatement, but you kissed him back, gentler and carefuller. It was the first real kiss you two shared and you never expected how it’d made you feel.

You felt your chest tingle, while you slowly wrapped your arm around his midsection-and that’s when the jumped a bit, a quiet gasp escaping his lips. You immediately pulled away looking down at where you touched him. Right where your hand was, was also a boot print on his hoodie. “Oh I’m so sorry Steve”, you whispered, but Steve already tried to kiss you again. This time you didn’t let him.

He whined quietly. “I want to kiss you-“ “Steve. You need to go shower. You’re hurt.” Steve definitely didn’t like this idea, especially when you noticed him still looking at your lips, but he nodded anyway.

“Would you…join me?”, he asked barely audibly, his face heating up and blushing furiously, while he looked down at his dirty hands, trying to wipe them clean at his pants.

You weren’t sure what to do, but seeing him so hurt, so…broken made your heart ache. “I can join you, yes. Come with me sweetheart”, he didn’t protest when you took his hand and guided him to your bathroom, attached to your bedroom instead of the one closer to his room.

In the bathroom you stopped in front of him, taking the material of his shirt in your hands and slowly pulling it up, making him wince while lifting his arms. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?”, you asked quietly, caressing your palm over his naked, slightly bruised, chest.

Once again Steve shook his head, taking your shirt and pulling it up before carelessly dropping it onto the floor. His hands found your waist again and he pulled you closer against him, so close you were curled against his chest, his chin on your head.

“I’m sorry for waking you-” “don’t you dare feel sorry, Stevie. I’m glad you called me. Thank you”, you lifted your head, gently kissing his cheek before your hands slowly pushed down his pants. “Is this okay or did you change your mind? You still want to shower with me?” You asked once again. He nodded immediately, before you were even able to finish the question.

“Okay…do you want a bath or a shower?” He thought for a moment, before shrugging. “I think a shower…I just want to go to sleep”, Steve sighed before taking off the rest of his clothes. You did the same and you both looked at each other for a second. It’s the first time you were actually funny naked in front of each other, so you both couldn’t stop the blush.

You took Steve's hand and walked with him into the big shower, turning the hot water on. A quiet moan escaped his lips when the water bug his tense muscles, making him immediately relax a bit more. While he enjoyed the feeling you took some shower gel and started washing his chest. He looked at you in surprise, the redness on his cheeks reappearing.

He really enjoyed your touch. The gentle and careful movement of your hands. The smell of your shampoo surrounding him, making him feel dizzy. So overwhelmed.

But in a good way.

He enjoyed every second of it.

“Could you turn around?”, you asked quietly and he did just that without needing to be told twice. You started washing his back, masking his shoulders carefully, feeling how the tight muscles slowly slackened. He pressed himself slightly more into your palms, making you smile as you slowly and gently wrapped your arms around his waist, kissing his back.

You caressed his skin with kisses and gentle touches, while Steve just enjoyed feeling so close to you.

He shouldn’t feel like this.

This… needy and independent. Like he needed to be taken care of by you. Not only that. He just wanted to be close to you. Be touched by you. Kissed.

A quiet sob escaped his lips. He didn’t realize when he had started crying but he couldn’t stop as you hugged him a bit tighter, the warm water patterned over his hair, dripping from his face and skin, his tears running down his cheeks,

“Come on, Stevie, let’s go to bed, you need to rest”, you kissed his back again, delicately moving him till he was facing you. “And I’ll make you some food in the morning…I’ll take the day off, okay? We can stay at home together”, You kissed his chest, before taking his hands and slowly stepping with him out of the shower. You took one of the softest towels you had, drying him before wrapping him in one of your bigger cosy bathrobes.

When he felt the fluffy material a smile crept onto his lips. Only now did you notice how dilated his pupils were. How soft his expression was. He had stopped crying too, but there were some salty trails of the last tears, but he seemed happier now.

More content.

Smiling at him you took his hand and a cooling cream for his bruises before leading him to your bedroom. He waddled behind you like a lost puppy, holding into your hand tightly, like he was scared of getting lost. Even though he knew his way around at this point.

You sat him down on your bed, slowly pushing the bathrobe from his shoulders. His skin was bruised at many places, some little cuts were there too. His face looked a bit better than before without all the blood and dirt. “It’ll help you with the pain, ‘kay? The cream will cool the tender skin”, you smiled? Kissing his forehead while you slowly started putting the cream on his bruised skin.

Since you were still naked his face was right in your breasts and he couldn’t stop himself from slowly leaning his face against them, his nose brushing against your stiff nipple. You chuckled quietly, brushing over his hand with your clean hand. “What are you doing?” You kissed his head again, while he pressed his face further in your breasts.

“Just…dunno”, he mumbled, slowly starting to kiss your skin, his lips always brushing over your nipples over and over again, before he even gently licked them. “Wanted to….dunno. Can I?” You giggled at his words. “Sure Stevie, I don’t know what you want to do but yeah, it’s fine.”

With that he kissed your breast again, slowly wrapping his lips around your nipple and sucking gently. A gasp escaped your lips as he did that. His arms slowly wrapped around you, pulling you a bit closer as the sucking deepened.

It took him a few minutes to finally release your nipple from his lips and when he looked up at you, you could tell he felt all mushy and needy. “You’re such a cutie, sweetheart….but we should go to sleep, so maybe-Oh no, no don’t worry Baby you can sleep here. With me. You don’t have to go back into your room, I promise”, you quickly smiled when his lips quivered, not wanting him to start crying again or feel like you’d just send him away.

You’d never do that,

Especially not in a state he was currently in.

“Come on, let’s take this off and you can lay down.”

You helped him out of the bathrobe, climbing after him into bed, pulling the blanket over your bodies. As you laid down on your back, he immediately cuddled up to you, his head nudging your breasts, before he shyly sucked at your nipple again, taking the other breast in hand he started playing with it.

You chuckled, brushing over his hair and letting him do whatever he needed to do to feel safe and good.

Within a few minutes you noticed his sucking and movements getting slower as he slowly started falling asleep.

“Good night, baby”, you kissed his head again, smiling when he lifted his head to kiss you on the lips before laying back down.

“Night Mommy.”

Next

I hope you enjoyed reading! Support your writers and leave some feedback and reblog!<3 let me know how you liked it (and how you like the series so far)

Questions? HC ideas? Drabble ideas? Thoots? (For this au or in general) -> flood my inbox!😋❤️

Any ideas/guesses what could happen in the upcoming chapters? 👀

Taglist: @slutforchrisjamalevans @joannaromanoff @marvel-wifey-86 @buckysteveloki-me @patzammit @barnesboo1967 @sebsgirl71479 @sapphire-rogers @hayleysimp @kestrafagnor wanna be tagged? Be active (FEEDBACK AND REBLOGGING) and let me know!

[sugolara]

𝙊𝙢𝙚𝙜𝙡𝙚

feat. denki kaminari x fem! reader

cw: crack? idk

˗ˏˋ+ ´ˎ˗ where denki and y/n come across each other on omegle and decide to never speak about the situation.

it was late at night, 2:50 am, when y/n decided to get on omegle. omegle! an app where you can chat with anybody worldwide. just be careful though, as there are some pretty weird people out there.

before she logged on her laptop and opened the website, she had pulled her hair into a somewhat man bun and had borrowed makeup from momo. with the makeup she borrowed, she applied black mascara on her chin, jawline, and underneath her noes.

she had applied a diy beard.

yes, it was true. y/n was broke, and because she was broke she needed money to buy school books. so she thought that finding a sugar mommy on omegle would be the best place.

boy was she wrong.

her poor innocent eyes that were no longer innocent had seen so many dicks. she didn't think it'd be possibly to see twenty-four dicks in one hour.

after countless of searching for a sugar mommy, her page had buffered. she sat back in her chair as she waited for the screen to display someone new.

she leaned in when she was met with a short blonde pixie cut woman. or so she thought she was a woman. she seemed rather buff. and dressed in one of the most ugliest outfits. her makeup was also... terrible.

it was odd, it was even odder when she heard the woman speak in a high pitch voice, almost sounding like they were faking it, "hey there sexy! want to have some fun?"

then it came to her as she squinted at her screen. why did the background looks so familiar? she then gasp, "denki?!"

the woman—man—voice had faltered into it's original voice, "y/n?!"

"the fuck are you doing?" she disbelievingly said.

"what am i doing? i'm looking for a sugar daddy." denki pointed at himself, "what are you doing?"

y/n laughed as she grabbed her phone, "oh my god! i gotta take a picture! everyone's gonna love this!"

denki rapidly rushed away from his desk, tripping in the process, "don't!"

he then grabbed his phone, "otherwise, i'll show everyone how ugly you look as a man.''

"you wouldn't." y/n said as she glared at him. denki grinned, "oh, yeah."

they both stared at each other, thinking of how to get away from this sticky situation. they both awkwardly looked away. "let's make a deal."

denki nodded, "okay?"

"we erase any evidence about this situation and never speak of this moment, got it?" y/n said.

"deal!"

the both had agreed to never speak about this situation. often glancing at each other and laughing. this'll be their own little secret where they take it to the grave.

[nothing0fnothing]

Hey! So I have some lived experience in being poor and mentally ill I had to learn the hard way in my adulthood after growing up with abusive neglectful narcissistic parents. Maybe it will help someone else.

1. Instant pot. Crock pot. Rice cooker. You only need one, but all 3 are versatile, can use very little electricity to run, and are perfect to dump ingredients into and come back later to a healthy, cooked dinner.

You can research which is best for you by looking up "crock pot recipes" "rice cooker meals" to get a feel for what types of meals you can prepare in each and how it's purposes can best fit your cooking style.

2. Get your electronics secondhand. Phone companies make so much off of poor people bc they contract us into pay plans that mean that by the time our phones are needing replacing, we've paid for it 2 or more times over. Consider going Sim only and getting your phone secondhand.

Websites like backmarket and envirophone sell refurbished phones, tablets, laptops, smart watches, TVs, consoles, headphones, all sorts like new and for a fraction of the price point you'd usually get them at. I've not bought an electronic new since 2015 and the products I get refurbished last just as long as if I'd bought them new. Plus it's better for the environment. Even if I had money I don't think I'd go back to buying new honestly.

3. Static charger. If you're Autistic and can't sit still, like me you might be finding that the first thing to go on your electronics is your charge port. It's really annoying because it's not a cheap fix and I have had to replace phones early when they won't charge any more.

Last year my girlfriend and I got static chargers. It's an adapter that sits in your phone/tablets charger slot that magnetically connects to a universal charger. Its great for us because now everything rechargeable (phones/tablets, but also headphones, game controllers, keyboards/mouses) takes the same cable. It's really handy, but for me the best part is that the adapter doesn't move. So even if I'm fidgeting with my phone on charge it won't wear down the charger pins over time. We paid £20 for 3 and it's paid for itself because I've not had to take my phone for it's yearly fix since I got it.

4. Make a cozy space outside of bed. As a bedrotting girlie I know the allure of just saying "fuck it" and curling up in bed is so strong. I also know that when I do it for days at a time my sleep quality gets worse, my days blur together and my mental health gets so much worse. Especially if I'm working, watching TV, eating all my meals and doing my hobbies all from my bed.

One thing that helps me break up the bedrotting and at least helps me get some decent sleep so I might wake up feeling better tomorrow, is having a cozy spot that isn't in bed I can spend at least some of my day in.

For me, it's the couch in my living room. I've furnished it with pillows, blankets, and a little coffee table I can rest my stuff on so I can feel as comfy as I do in bed, but not actually be in bed most of the day. For You it could be a book nook, or a floor bed, or a desk with a chair in your bedroom.

5. Giant water bottle. This one is really simple. We need 8 glasses of water a day to be healthy and hydrated. Basically nobody depressed has the energy to fill up a glass of water 8 times a day. If you can get a water bottle that holds 2 litres (65oz) of water, now you only need to fill one drinking vessel once a day to be healthy and hydrated.

It's really simple and sill but it honestly saved my life. I buy those drink flavor packets because I drink more when it tastes nice. Is it as healthy as plain water? No. Is it healthier than no water? Yes. Easy peasy.

My bottle is from Meoky, its the 64oz stainless steel camping bottle with a flip straw I got for under £20. I like it because it keeps my water cold and I'd rather walk on hot coals than take a sip without a straw, but I've bought same size BPA free plastic bottles for like £3 and they have lasted me 2-3 years too so the budget options are absolutely worth it too.

6. Reconsider what's worth getting second hand. Generally when thinking about buying secondhand we mean clothes at the thrift, and that's great, but buying pre loved can be anything, and you can buy some high ticket items at an affordable price point that way.

If I ever want an appliance I always look second hand first. My rice cooker is secondhand and it is my favourite appliance. I've also bought a popcorn maker for a fraction of the price I'd buy it new, and I'm looking for a Kitchen Aid mixer for no more than a third the price they usually sell at. My vanity houses my shark air styler, I got it refurbished second hand and it was like new when I bought it. I use it every day and it still has so much wear in it.

Generally, the bigger and heavier something is, the closer to free you can get it, because the people getting rid of it just want it gone. If you ever need a washing machine or some furniture, look on gumtree or local no buy groups first. Type "free ___" followed by where you live into Google to get an idea whats available. If you're furnishing a space it's very likely you can get everything you need for the cost of the van you hired to collect it all.

7. Frozen vegetables. Fresh produce is getting more expensive and because we neurodivergent and mentally ill people can have a habit of letting fresh produce rot in the fridge, wasting money and making more mess to clean up, it's usually not worth it. The thing is, frozen produce is cheaper because it is picked in season, healther because it is frozen at optimum ripeness, and can be safely stored in your freezer for months, it's so worth doing.

They're usually pre-cut and can generally just be chucked into your dish frozen to defrost while cooking, making them easy and accessible. You can buy mixed vegetable packs (in the UK the most common is sweetcorn/peas/carrots and broccoli/cauliflower/) for some variety too, which I like to just dump a portion into soups or broths for some added vitamins.

8. Medication delivery. I've been medicated for mental illness for years, and a regular problem I used to have was I would neglect going to pick up my meds because I was depressed, then I'd run out and be unable to collect them because the lack of meds was making me more depressed.

Now however, I'm signed up with an online pharmacy. They processes my prescriptions exactly the same way any other pharmacy would and dispense them through the post in a box that fits through my letterbox. I never have to leave the house for meds again which is actually a lifesaver, the shipping is super cheap, like free for 3 day delivery and £2.99 for next day, and it's all processed through a super simple app that I only have to use like one a month when I request my refill.

It's so worth it and if you struggle to get out like me I absolutely recommend it. In the UK it's called Lloyd's Direct Pharmacy, but I'm sure it's a service you can find in other places of the world too.

9. Laundry separation is a lie. Which isn't a big deal for people who don't care about throwing money away on extra loads or people who have the spoons to faff around separating their clothes arbitrarily, but for poor neurodivergent people, it is.

So here's the thing, the rules of separating laundry by colour came about when clothes were made of all natural materials that would stick to each other when agitated and natural dyes that would run in water. Nowadays, clothes are made of synthetic or blended materials that can handle the friction of a modern machine and synthetic dyes that hold up to basically anything. 99% of clothes on the market, and therefore probably 99% of your wardrobe, is polycotton or some other poly-blend. So generally, everything you have can just all go in together on a warm wash.

Now, if you have woolen, linen or cashmere pieces, you should be separating them and following the care instructions on the label, but everything else, just shove it in mate, nothing bad will happen.

10. Protein powder. Protein powder is cheap, it's stored dry to it basically never goes bad, it's obviously protein so it's a really good addition to your diet, it tastes of whatever flavour you buy it in so it's a good meal substitute if you're depressed and your appetite is low, and it comes together really easily.

I usually get it in big tubs because they're cheaper per gram that way and I just add them to my coffee/hot chocolate for a boost or stir it into some Greek yogurt for a quick healthy snack. Thats actually my favourite way to get protein in because it's like 2 minutes and it covers up that sour taste yogurt has. I've also stirred it into milk for my cereal to varying success but it's good because the fat in the milk and the carbs and fortified vitamins in the cereal make it basically a meal. If I'm struggling for breakfast I usually add a scoop or two to an instant porridge pot and I have a ready to eat nutritional meal ready in the time it takes to boil the kettle.

[twosroos]

Attempting

roos says ! is this in character? no idea. rooster plays a big role here bc i can imagine him being fed up with everyones shit very quickly. also fanboy playing guitar is such a good idea i love it. also this being called 'how guitar??' in my docs is rlly funny to me, thought I'd share :)

desc ! you've worked at the Hard Deck for a few years now, and everyday you swear you fall more in love with your job. Little do you know, the Daggers are enacting a plan on Fanboy's behalf-- an attempt to swoon you with live music.

genre ! pure fluff baby

TWs: drunkenness, cursing

Being a server at The Hard Deck was probably one of the best post-college decisions you had made. In the past three years that you'd worked there, Penny had become more of a mother than a boss, and your co-workers were like sisters. The restaurant was one hundred percent your second home, and if you found yourself bored at home, there was always something to be done there. It was not the only job you had, freelance didn't pay consistently enough though, so you found yourself working at both The Hard Deck and a small boat rental company on the shore for vacationing families in San Diego. Moving to California right after graduation was the worst post-college decision you had made. Rent was high, jobs were hard to come by, and even with your three roommates in your two-bedroom apartment, you still struggled to make every end meet. But you made it work, with the help of your co-workers, your perseverance, and a shit-ton of luck you somehow had. The day was winding to an end, the golden sun cresting over the ocean and shimmering the day's goodbye across the sky in vibrant hues. You snuck a picture on your phone, sending it to your roommates with an inside joke caption before you shoved it in your apron and adjusted your shirt. The low-cut v-necks were a new uniform piece, and optional compared to the usual button-up shirts or the custom company tees. The cut didn't bother you, but, as you served around a group of regulars-- the Iron Daggers, you'd come to call them, since it was their Squadron's nickname, you caught the eyes of the man who simply would not stop staring at you since you'd served him months ago. Fanboy, his name tag read, and luckily for you, it was a busy Saturday, so you didn't have to keep his dark eyes gaze with his soft grin pushing up his tanned cheeks, and ugh, why was he so... perfect? 

He was nice, you'd spoken a few times. He was from New Hampshire, hated the cold, and moved to California the second he got the opportunity to. He was in the Navy now, and you respected his line of work but weren't the type to settle down. Even years after graduating with a master's degree in Architecture, you still needed to land a solid job you could keep. And nothing in this area was lasting you longer than six months, or it paid job-to-job, which you fucking hated. Sure, it was nice to have a couple of thousand dollars dropped in at once, but it wasn't sustainable for your compulsive buying habits.

You made your way back to the servers station, tugging up the v-neck and huffing, reminding yourself mentally to wash your other work shirts when you got home. As you stood on your toes to grab a pitcher, someone else kicked open the swinging door and groaned as they set down the various plastic baskets of fries on the dish shelf.

"How long do you think we'll go until the jukebox gets shuts off?" A fellow server, Savannah, asks as she starts dumping the fries into the trash and the plastic bins into a dish tray. Her long blonde hair is pulled up in a perfect ponytail, the whispy hairs framing her face. She always looked so flawless, it made you a bit jealous, but you knew she'd taken a lot of time to care for and nurture her look. She did a wonderful job.

"Give them two rounds." Amelia comments from the other side of the server station, she's propped up on a counter, idly typing away on her laptop with one earbud in. You chuckle to yourself as you carry the two pitchers in one hand over to the other side of the kitchen, throwing a towel over your shoulder as you grab ice from the cooler and a scoop for the ice. You bend over to begin filling up your pitchers.

"Your mom would be pissed if she saw you on that counter, Amelia." You comment, moving the full pitcher to the side as you fill the other. Savannah walks over to a small mirror in the station and adjusts her hair and makeup as she chuckles along to your comment. 

Amelia pointedly rolls her eyes, "She's with Maverick today."

"Oh god, another woman lost to the Navy." Savannah salutes and you blow a huff out of your nose with a smirk, rolling your eyes as you use a small "drink gun" (which was essentially a soda fountain in a hose) to fill your pitchers. The six kids there were absolutely downing every small cup you gave them, so this would be easier, for you and their parents who had to flag you down every five seconds.

"Be careful, Y/n might be next." Amelia looks at you over her laptop screen, "I saw Fanboy checking you out."

"That's a him issue." You say, "And I refuse to date Navy."

Savannah turns back to you with an overexaggerated pout, "Awe, why not? Fanboy's cute!"

"Nope, no Navy." You say, and then you perk up when you realize the music had stopped at some point during your conversation, "Are the Daggers on their first round still?"

"Just got the second from Macie at the bar. Shit, it took that little time?"

"Unsurprising." Amelia smiles, putting her second earpod in. You grab both of the pitchers, shrugging to Savannah in a sort of 'we knew this would happen gesture which she giggles at before you dip out of the kitchen with the pitchers in hand.

Now, what usually happened when the jukebox got unplugged was Rooster would saunter over to the piano and serenade everyone with Great Balls of Fire. But that was not what was happening, because someone was playing the guitar.

Who the fuck brought their guitar to a dive bar?

You recognized the tune immediately though, it's 'I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For,' a song you'd loved for as long as you could remember, and you recalled you'd been humming it only an hour or so ago when the Iron Daggers had first walked in. Which you only remembered because Fanboy had commented on it then. As you set the pitchers down at the table of kids, the Mom smiles.

"Those aviators always surprise me with their talents." She whispers as if trying not to interrupt the pretty acoustics. You can't help but agree, watching the mostly tipsy aviators sing and sway over by the piano's nook. Rooster joins on piano, and the whole bar starts to hum along. It's a lot slower than usual, but the joy in singing and being together is clear on everyone's smiling faces.

Then, you realize who's playing guitar as you see his eyes meet yours across the dimly lit bar.

"I didn't know he could play." You say the mother and she smiles, turning to her husband and singing as you find yourself entranced as you slowly move a bit closer to where the aviators sit. Fanboy plays the guitar nimbly, his fingers not once dragging along the frets as he strums the tune out. Subconsciously, you smile, before realizing just how long you've held eye contact and breaking it in favor of slipping away and further into the bar.

--

The next time the daggers are in the bar, Phoenix, Halo, and Coyote are seated at the bar while you're working behind it. The three have ordered enough alcohol to support a small army, which you assume is the pilots behind them, plus a few older pilots you don't recognize. You spot Maverick between two men you don't notice, both have their wives draped lazily on their arms, and pool ques go unused in their hands as they drink and talk with the younger pilots beside them.

"Did Mickey really bring his guitar again?" You hear Coyote ask as you pour him a B52 shot to go with his coffee.

"Head over heels." Halo comments, taking a sip of her cosmo, "He's fuckin' whipped into shape and she has no idea."

"Who do you think it is?" You ask, sliding the shot to Coyote and the look Phoenix and Halo share is enough to cut diamonds. It makes you shift, "Nevermind, the jukebox is currently being unplugged by a drunk mustache man."

"Oh boy." Phoenix takes a long sip of her drink, and her glass sets down on the wooden bar in time with the first strum of a Grenade. You blink, looking across the bar to where you watch the drunk pilots sing together.

"Oh, I love Bruno Mars." You softly muse and Phoenix makes a face at Coyote and Halo that has them both groaning and laying their heads on the bar. You roll your eyes and lean back on the bar, watching the group.

It keeps happening for weeks, every shift you work, at least Hangman, Payback, and Rooster show up with Fanboy. And every time, after Fanboy's had at least two drinks, he plays a song. Sometimes Rooster initiates the song, but the night always starts with beer. Usually either Blue Moon or Bud Light. You find that every shift, you begin to wonder when they'll come in, and every shift you feel yourself slowly spending more and more time by the piano area. You end up getting the front of the house as your section every night, you know Penny does it on purpose.

Tonight's like any other, drunk pilots, bell ringing, spilling beer and soda on your hands and shoes, blue cheese, wing sauce, basically any liquid-like substance making you have to stop and wash your hands a hundred times through the night. But, The Hard Deck closes at midnight, and at around 11:50, all the regulars know to leave. Which makes all the others swarming the bar also want to leave. Tonight seems to be an exception for the Iron Daggers, though. They all hang back by the bar, chatting with Penny and Macie and you find yourself in a gossip circle as you take a stool from the bar and seat yourself. Your closing work is done, and you've done just about everything else for the Sunday night closing work besides mopping the floor, which you have to wait for everyone to leave to start. You have no responsibilities right now, so a soda by the bar won't hurt.

"He won't shut up about it." Phoenix laughs, swirling the wine in her hand. You know it's a local wine from a place Penny had visited in New Jersey years ago based on the fact that you'd heard the woman complaining she needed to sell it all before it went bad and the new shipment came in. And then she'd cursed Navy people for not drinking wine, while you were two glasses in, and you'd laughed so hard you almost puked. It was a... long day.

"Who won't shut up about what?" you ask as you slip behind the bar and use the soda gun to pour yourself a Coke.

"Fanboy's got a massive crush." A very drunk Bob says.

"Shots with Omaha got him again?" Penny teases and Bob crosses his arms before laying his head on them as he grumbles some sort of complaint that makes you laugh softly.

"Anyway, Y/n." Phoenix swats Bob's shoulder, "How do you enjoy serving us every single night?"

"I don't mind, actually. You guys always have something fun going on, and it's entertaining to watch it. Though I'm starting to wonder if all pilots magically have some sort of musical ability," You take a long sip of your drink while Bob laughs, sitting back up, swaying, and then laying back down.

"Only when they're trying to serenade-"

"Floyd." Phoenix cuts him off, "You're terrible at keeping secrets while drunk."

"Oh sorry," Bob says with a flush to his cheeks and a giddy giggle on his lips. You blink away, Savannah taking control of the conversation with a story about a table she had today. You look over to where Fanboy, Hangman, and Rooster sit and talk by the darts. But your eyes narrow when you see Rooster making some sort of vague hand motions at you. Before Fanboy slumps against the table, Hangman laughs.

"Hey, Y/n!" Rooster calls, waving you over, much to the visible dismay of Fanboy. You make your way back around the bar and over to where they sit, swirling your drink in hand.

"Gonna have to kick you boys out as soon as we get Bob a ride home." You say as you walk over, using one hand to adjust your server's aprons, feeling the fabric bump against the few decorative rings you wear.

"Yeah, well Fanboy needs one too." Rooster smacks his shoulder and you give him an odd look.

"Okay..?"

"Y/n. I have a..." Hangman drawls out and you watch as Fanboy's head perks up from where it had previously been buried in his arms, "a question."

"Fire away." You take a sip of your coke.

"Are you free Friday night?" You nearly spit out said coke. It takes you a minute, and a few coughs, to regain your posture.

You clear your throat, taking another sip of Coke to wash down the scratchiness, "Not for you."

"Sucks to suck, bags." Fanboy says and you giggle at his comment when he notices you see his whole face light up red. It looks cute, the way his pupils dilate when you make eye contact, and his insult dies in his throat.

Rooster kicks Hangman under the table, making another vague gesture between you and Fanboy. 

"Yo loverboy," Hangman kicks Fanboy, and Rooster groans, burying his head in his hands, "Follow me up, here, we had a plan."

"A plan?" You say, the three drunk pilots (with Rooster, for once, being the soberest of the group) blinking up at you.

"You ruined it, bagman." Fanboy sits up, brushing a hand through his hair, "I uh... well, I was also wondering if you're free Friday."

"Well, I wish I was. I have work." You say, watching as Fanboy sags, so you keep going, "You can always bring your guitar back around here if you want to hang out a bit."

Rooster's short patience wears out, "Y/n. You're both clueless here. Mickey beside me is askin' you on a date, like a one-on-one thing here."

Oh.

Oh.

"I--" You stammer, but Rooster keeps going.

"He's been spending the past three weeks tryna serenade you or some shit because he claims its super romantic but it literally hasn't worked one time and I'm sick of hearing him complain about it--"

"--Bradshaw!" Phoenix complains from the bar, he pretends to not hear her.

"For the love of god, go on one date with him or something."

"Dude." Fanboy says after a moment, and Hangman has to walk away because he's laughing so hard.

"You've been..." You gesture to Fanboy and he nods, so you turn to Penny who gives you a thumbs up.

"Guess I'm free Friday then." You murmur and he smiles.

--

Every day since then, save for the days of the Uranium Mission and other small deployments, has been a bit of a musical breeze. It's only been two months, but dear god you've never fallen faster for someone. The pilots still come around to the Hard Deck, though, if you're not closing and you get off early, you always end up tucked in a back corner with Fanboy's hand on your waist. It's become routine for you guys to spend time at your house since he lives on base, and his guitar always comes with him. When you're cooking for him on days he comes back from training exhausted, laying around on the couch or outside with him, or with his multitude of friends, there's always a tune playing in your ear.

And honestly, you wouldn't have it any other way.

[jaskiersbard]

I know one of your special interests is the Titanic, so have you heard about that submarine?!?

Hi, anon. Yes, I know about the submarine - I haven't been on this blog since last weekend but I posted about it on Monday (I think) when the news first broke on my other blog @alwaysahiccupandastrid (that blog is the one I'm logged into on my phone whereas this one is the one I'm logged into on my iPod and laptop). Obviously since then the news has been a huge deal, it's been all over the news, so it's been pretty strange to log onto social media and see "titanic" trending so much.

I want to be clear that I don't wish death on anyone, I truly don't, and also that two of the people who were on that submarine actually lived a 15 minute walk from me, and I only found out because it was posted on facebook on my village's community group/page - they were the father and son, Shahzada and Suleman Dawood, who were onboard. All of this said, I'm sorry but it's really hard to sympathise with billionaires who were basically trespassing on what is a grave-site for 1500 people. If they had been researchers then I might hold a little bit more sympathy, but these people...with the exception of the 19 year old who apparently only went because of his father because it was Father's Day last weekend, I struggle to understand why those billionaires were going down there.

Here's the thing: as you said, the Titanic is one of my special interests - I am literally obsessive about not only the film made by James Cameron but also the ship itself, the history behind it, the stories of the people who were onboard etc. In fact, the reason I love the film as much as I do is because James Cameron had an obsession with the wreck too and went out of his way to be as truthful to the tragedy as possible - he even went down to the wreck for hours and hours recording footage, and even after the film came out he's continued to dive not only down to the wreck but also even further down into the ocean (I will talk about him and his dives in a moment).

All of the above in mind, would I want to go down to the wreck myself? Probably not.

A part of me would in fact want to do it because of my special interest, to see that once beautiful and magnificent ship in person, while being respectful as possible and taking the time to remember the people who suffered - but the other part of me would not because firstly, as I've said, it's where 1500 people died and trespassing on the graves of 1500 people just seems incredibly fucked to me. It's not a tourist attraction, for fuck sake, it's the site of a horrible tragedy. It's also important to note that because of all of the deep sea dives down there, because people keep disturbing the wreck, it's making the ship start to disappear - yes, part of this is due to it being 111 years since it sank, but submarines constantly disturbing it are not helping preserve it quite frankly. The man who discovered the wreck, Robert Ballard, has even said that he wished he hadn't told people he'd discovered it because of the way people have desecrated it. (side note: I borrowed his book on the Titanic from my local library in February and only gave it back last weekend because I ran out of renewals)

All of that aside, however, serious questions need to be asked about that submersible because the design of it was clearly not appropriate for that dive, and it's clear the people who made it wanted to cut corners and save money when they created it. We've all seen the memes about the fact it was being steered by a remote control you can literally buy on Amazon (the one that looks like a video game controller), and the fact that the submersible was so small it would have been like being shoved into a Pringles can. While I find the memes insensitive, it can't be denied that OceanGate have a LOT to answer for when it comes to that submersible and the design of it.

As for James Cameron, before anyone starts asking why I'm not criticizing him, the thing is that he went down to the wreckage on an actual submarine with an actual crew who do this for a living - these people were on a submersible, not a submarine. He's also made 33 dives, not just to the Titanic but also to the Mariana Trench and other deep parts of the ocean; he also designed a 24-foot submersible called the Deepsea Challenger, which took 10 years to build at a cost of $10 million, and is made of principally from syntactic foam, a high-strength, low-weight material which enables it to withstand the huge pressure exerted on it by the ocean. He has literally done his research of the ocean, his research of submarines and submersibles, and it's very clear he holds respect for not only the Titanic but also for the ocean as well. He did an interview recently about the Titan submersible, criticizing the choice of carbon-fibre composite construction of the pressure vessel, saying that it has "no strength in compression" when subject to immense pressures at depth; he also criticized Stockton Rush, the chief executor and co-founder of OceanGate who was on the submersible, and Rush's real-time monitoring of the submarine's hull as an inadequate solution that would do little to prevent an implosion.

To sum it up, while I'm personally not celebrating anyone's death in this situation and I think the memes aren't strictly appropriate, I don't feel a lot of sympathy for them - for their families who have been left behind, maybe, but it's difficult to find sympathy for a group of billionaires fucking around and going to the wreck for...for what? Shits and giggles? Because they could? As Jeff Goldblum's character said in Jurassic Park, "your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn't stop to think if they should" - and that's exactly what I feel about these people and a lot of billionaires, quite frankly, that just because they have money to do shit like this, it doesn't mean they should. I especially can't find a lot of sympathy for the co-founder who was on that submersible because, quite frankly, if he and his company hadn't been so tight-fisted and cheap when making their submersible, this might not have happened.

As a side note, I've seen people asking the authorities about recovering the bodies, and I don't think people are understanding that there are no bodies to recover, no remains, not even a single bone - there's quite literally nothing left of those people anymore. The submersible imploded, and the people inside would have literally been turned to mist at that pressure, like they would have literally disintegrated. I hope that the families of the people on that submersible can find some comfort, if nothing else, in knowing that the death of their loved ones was probably quick, that they didn't suffer - it's likely they didn't even know what was happening because of how quick the implosion would have been.

[castielsprostate]

I'm nosy af. I want to see Misha's bank statements and tax returns. I genuinely wonder (like, all the time) what decent rich people (not asshole rich people.. i know what they spend their money on) actually spend their money on. I've never had money. I spend everything i get on food and rent. I go into debt buying shampoo and deodorant. my laptop is 12 years old (and i had to get a loan to buy that and pay it off over five years.) My phone is newer (2016) but was a secondhand gift. I don't own a car. I don't have any pets. I've never in my life been on vacation. I have no insurance, I'll never be able to afford a house and I will almost certainly die tens of thousands of dollars in debt. (I looked into funeral expenses recently and thought FUCK i can't even afford to die!) I wonder what it feels like to.. not live like this? Misha was poor as a kid. I wonder if you get used to wealth if you've been dirt poor? Like i wonder if Dolly Parton is used to being rich now, decades after growing up in a shack with no electricity or running water. I can't even imagine ever getting used to not worrying about having enough food. If I was ever that rich (don't have to worry about food or rent money) I think i'd feel like the wealthiest person in the world. I legit can't even imagine it though. It would take me 20 years to earn $250,000, but Misha can do it in a weekend. Crazy world. (This is not a criticism of him. I love him. I bet he spends a lot of that money doing good things. I'd love to see his receipts, tho.)

oh anon i feel you!!!!! i grew up with literally eating 50p macaroni every day for WEEKS. in the winter we didn't have connected heating because we just couldn't pay for it so we had a diesel generator (this was in 2006). it got better, we got heating (sort of lmao) and we could afford wayyy more when my mum got a job. the little bits of money i got, i never got used to it, it always felt like this is the last im getting i need to save this and not spend that but it didn't go away but the feeling stayed. the feeling of "you're gonna lose this next month" doesn't go away. and we're talking an amount of 1k a month here lmao sjsjsjs i could NEVER imagine having to not worry about rent or food or getting clothes i need or new shampoo. right now i'm worrying about the 15€ i need for some things i genuinely need, but literally dont have the money for. the world would seem so much brighter if I wouldn't even have to look at my bank account and just put the card down yknow?

i dont think anyone that grew up poor, even misha or dolly tbh, every get used to having money :/ and as you said, he makes that in a weekend now (though he also donates a lot of money and uses it for good, a lot is going into investments, his kids' funds etc) but i still think he has that underlying worry gnawing at him that this is it and he's gonna have to do xyz and sell yzx and take up zyx job. it's a never ending pool of anxiety and stress that never ebs and it probably hits him right before going to bed

but then again, i'm just tumblr user castielsprostate what do i know

[ask-the-cosmic-duo]

//So that’s great. My computer died this morning (technically yesterday by about an hour as of writing), and I can’t resurrect it this time.

//Thankfully, I’ve had a plan for this for a few months now. Most of you don’t know this I don’t think, but I’m also in college right now (my PC died literally on finals week, whoop-de-fucking-do). I’m getting financial aid, and next time I get paid, I’m going to use it to buy a new computer that’s incredibly beefy and overkill for most things. Unfortunately, that won’t be until January.

//No, I don’t need money. I’ll have enough. Besides, I still have my phone to update the blog on, and my mom’s letting me borrow her laptop for the time being, though she’s not letting me download all of my usual stuff. Understandable, I suppose. Not like it can even hold all of it, what with its hard drive being only a quarter of the size.

//Don’t worry, the blog’s not dead! I’m just gonna be kinda stressed out for a bit, what with it being finals week and, again, one of my few sources of recreation being gone. I’ll most likely be focusing more on school, though, so any responses to asks will either be slower or halted until next week. Sorry!

//Please take care of your computers. Don’t treat them like shit, and definitely don’t buy cheap parts. It’ll bite you in the ass later.