#weather birmingham

[rainndearr]

[chubsbuns]

I was put on this planet to take pictures of trees and clouds ☁️

[meteorologistaustenlonek]

Watching the post-game #FridayFireworks from AT&T Field reflected off the surface of the #TennesseeRiver after the #ChattanoogaLookouts v. #BirminghamBarons game.

[batboyblog]

Things the Biden-Harris Administration Did This Week #30

August 2-9 2024

The Department of Interior announced the largest investment since 1979 in outdoor recreation and conservation projects. The $325 million will go to support State, territorial, DC, and tribal governments in buying new land for parks and outdoor recreation sites. It also supports expansion and refurbishment of existing sites.

The EPA announced that Birmingham Alabama will get $171 million to update and replace its water system. The city of Birmingham is 70% black and like many black majority cities as struggled with aging water systems and lead pipes causing dangerous drinking water conditions. This investment is part of the Biden-Harris administrations plan to replace all of the nation's lead pipes.

The Department of Energy announced $2.2 billion in investments in the national power grid to help boost resiliency in the face of extreme weather. The projects will add 13 gigawatts of capacity, support 5,000 new jobs and upgrade 1,000 miles of transmission. Major projects will cut power outages in the west, drive down energy prices in New England, add off shore wind, and enable the development of the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe’s wind resources.

The Justice Department won its massive anti-trust case against Google. A federal judge ruled that Google was an illegal monopoly. The DOJ has an ongoing antitrust suit against Apple, while the Federal Trade Commission is suing Facebook and Amazon for their monopolist practices

The US Government announced $3.9 billion in direct aid to Ukraine. The money will help the Government of Ukraine make up for massive budget short falls caused by the war with Russia. It'll help pay the salaries of teachers, emergency workers, and other public employees, as well helping displaced persons, low-income families and people with disabilities.

The Department of Energy announced $190 million to improve air quality and energy upgrades in K-12 schools. The grants to 320 schools across 25 states will impact 123,000 students, 94% of these schools service student bodies where over half the students qualify for free and reduced lunch. In the face of climate change more schools have been forced to close for extreme heat. These grants will help schools with everything from air filtration, to AC, to more robust energy systems, to replacing lighting.

USAID announced $424 million in additional humanitarian aid to the Democratic Republic of the Congo. Due to ongoing conflict and food insecurity, 25 million Congolese are in need of humanitarian aid. This year alone the US has sent close to a billion dollars in aid to the DRC, making it the single largest donor to the crisis.

The Senate approved President Biden's appointment of Stacey Neumann of Maine, Meredith Vacca of New York, and Joseph Saporito Jr. of Pennsylvania to life time federal Judgeships. This brings the total of judges appointed by President Biden to 205. President Biden is the first President who's judicial nominations have not been majority white men, Judge Vacca is the first Asian American to serve in her district court. President Biden has also focused on former public defenders, like Judge Saporito, and former labor lawyers like Judge Neumann, as well as civil rights lawyers.

[spawnofvulcan-knits]

Don’t think I’ve heard thunder in months!

[mgaceman]

The #BirminghamCityFC Reversible Beanie is now available and with the #weather getting colder, it'll keep yer noggin warm! . #BCFC #KRO #Birmingham #BirminghamCity #Footy #Football #Fashion #LOL https://www.instagram.com/p/CjLbc_NKAmF/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[taasgirl]

popstar - jude bellingham

summary: y/n is in her popstar era and has a fan in the form of madrid's starboy

SMAU!

liked by pedri, oliviarodrigo, beabadoobee, and 32, 726 others ynusername working hard or hardly working?

badbunny YAYAYA my baby come home soon

leahwilliamson Gorgeous girl x

user60293 WHEN WORLDS COLLIDE

user60132 I already know the amy winehouse influence will be insane

ynusername oh you know it

liked by blonded, lukehemmings, sabrinacarpenter, and 41, 736 others ynusername oh italy

user60383 WHAT A SHOW

littlesimz we have to link up someday

blonded Girls will go to Italy once and come back alt

ynusername go record some music christopher

judebellingham very european

user21293 WHY IS Y/N FRIENDS WITH SO MANY FOOTBALLERS?

liked by user56230, phoebebridgers, calumhood, and 44, 492 others ynusername sorry for the spam but EUROPE!?!?!?!

kevinabstract ur so cool i wish i was u

sabrinacarpenter AAAAAAAAHHHH

judebellingham Sparkly

ynusername still need tix ? user02931 I CANT I CANT I CANT I CANT

liked by pablogavi. ynusername, vinijr, and 672, 729 others pedri 🌴🏆😝

ansufati ❤️

ynusername pepiiiii

user60219 HOW MANY FOOTBALLERS DOES Y/N KNOW???

ynusername too many 😒

user49320 y/n really catching all the footballers like their stones

liked by judebellingham, lukehemmings, oliviarodrigo, and 56, 832 others ynusername madrid may have the best fans shhhh

user98273 MADRID GIRLIES RISE!!!

judebellingham What a show ⭐ liked by ynusername

user44392 WHAT THE FUUUUUUCK

pedri Come to Barca and we'll show you the best fans

ynusername nah i'm good

liked by ynusername, vinijr, philfoden, and 5, 873, 923 others judebellingham Recent ☀️

vinijr 🔥🔥

user09273 that looks a whole lot like a y/n concert...

user63882 Tell me why I have the exact same photo but at a dif angle... jude we see u

jobebellingham Much better weather than birmingham tbf

ynusername what a pretty concert!

judebellingham What a pretty girl!

liked by oliviarodrigo, judebellingham, pedri, and 109, 726 others ynusername spain + digi camera = heaven

user25309 GAGGED

user78201 this is literally the hottest couple of all time

sabrinacarpenter digi never disappoints

user90123 I NEED the timeline of their relationship omfg

judebellingham this is cute

user05316 Bro is down so bad that he turned off caps-lock

liked by casemiro, ynusername, edermilitao, and 7, 983, 022 others judebellingham When your girl is so pretty, all you can do is stare. Happy one year anniversary baby, I love you too much to keep it a secret.

ynusername aww thank you judey 💘

judebellingham Hi baby

user89302 how the actual fuck did no one know about this???

user92634 'i love you too much to keep it a secret' OKAYYY

leahwilliamson thank god, I don't have to keep this a secret anymore

user66539 CONFIRMED! hottest couple of all time

hehe let me know if you guys liked this! SAY SOMETHING IS COMING SOON I PROMISE!!

[trulyhblue]

Leah or lessi kid fic after they won the Conti cup!

Lilo’s Sparkle

Mum! Alessia Russo x Child! Reader

Warnings: fluff, mention of injury, very very short.

___________________

You held your head up high, making sure your eyesight was level with the barricade of Alessia’s arms around you.

Your mummy was rocking you, holding you in a small confinement of blankets and an pink sweater. It was cold in Birmingham, but so was every other game your Mummy’s team played at. It was the same at Manchester, and London was no different. The only chance was the people. Auntie Ella only picked you up from your new preschool when she was down South, and you and Mummy would sometimes meet for orange juice at Auntie Ella’s favourite cafe when you were in Manchester.

But today you were in Birmingham, which was a often occurrence. London was your new home. You were accustomed to Manchester, and the weather in England was pretty standard across the country, so there wasn't much to adjust to.

“Do you want to go see Kyra with me, Lilo?”

You looked over at your Aunt Stina. She was perplexed, confronted with mixed emotions. You had teary eyes from the overstimulation, so you just wanted a cuddle.

“Is Stina okay, Mummy? Does she need a hug?”

There was cheering everywhere. Mummy had a very wide grin, and rosy cheeks similar to yours, except you were cold and she was exhausted. The 120-minute frenzy had left you feeling fatigued in your seat on the bench. It was a lot to ask a three-year-old to sit quietly without fuss without the company of her Mummy and her Aunties.

“How bout you ask to see if she wants one, sweets?”

You nodded.

With the comfort of Kyra in the first half, and Leah in the second, you were pretty much well-behaved. But after your favourite Auntie — though Stina Ballerina and Lee Lee never liked you saying that — Frida went down and stretched off the pitch, you instantly grew angsty and agitated. This was only exemplified with Mummy was subbed on in place of.

You ran over to Stina, yanking softly on the woman’s shorts.

“Do you need a cuddle, Auntie Stina?” You asked, fiddling with your zipper as you spoke. Your hood was up upon your Mummy’s discretion, the media attention on you the foremost of her worries.

“Oh, I always need a hug from you, Lilo, älskling.”

“Okay! Thank you!”

Stina knelt down at the feeling your body heat holding onto her calf, swiftly picking you up and cradling you in her grip. Vivi came up behind you, wearing a matching Arsenal jumper, fitting her medal over your neck.

“You scored the winner, Auntie.” You proclaimed, engulfing Stina’s jersey next to your cheek. “You are a superhero Stina. I think your a sparkle.”

Alessia’s giggles were heard not far from where you stood, the thought of you talking about people being a ‘sparkle’ endearing to her.

“Wow, Lilo darling, you think Stina did well?”

“Mummy, of course! She's a sparkle, remember?” You looked between Stina, Vivi, and Mummy. “Mummy and I were calling you a sparkle on the bus after you gave me a cookie, remember? Thank you, Auntie, you really are a star.”

It was considered your thing. To call someone a sparkle was your view of an utmost compliment. You are a star, superior in all ways, and for Stina, she hugged you a little tighter knowing you relished her hard work.

No amount of compliment could outshine a sparkle.

“You are too kind, Lilo,” Stina responded, her blush prominently painting across the bridge of her nose. “Thank you, but you are the biggest sparkle of all.”

You were now pressing your face against the woman’s cheeks, reaching out to play with Mummy’s collar. “Thank you!”

You eventually pushed away from all the celebratory chaos, waddling over to Lee Lee, and Kimmy, knowing they’d provide some serenity to your hyperness.

They were on their way to receiving the trophy, and when you found your way squelched between them, Lee picked you up, placing you inside the trophy with a plonk.

Everyone laughed and cheered as you were lifted into the air, celebrating flambountaly for their sparkle.

Not only as individuals, but as a club.

____________________

alessia

liked by stinablackstenius, fridamaanum, and 876,356 others

alessia — dressed in our sparkle attire 🩷🩷

tagged — stinablackstenius

Comments Are Limited:

Stinablackstenius — my absolute favourite compliment from my Äskling 💕

*liked by creator

____________________

[maryangelex]

Never Let Me Go

Captain John Price x f!Reader

Part 2 here

Summary: You worked at a coffeehouse, your life is filled with mundanity and you wouldn't change it for anything else. That is, until one crisp autumn morning, you meet the handsome Captain John Price and there’s an immediate, undoubted connection between the two of you.

WC: 3,352

Warnings: fluff, smut in other chapters, cheesy coffee shop au, inaccuracies, soft!price, barista!reader, some reader descriptions, slow romance, pet names, meet-cute.

A/N: Remember that Price series I mentioned? Here ya go!!! Each chapter will be the title of a song I feel is related to it or that I was listening to while writing it hehe so make sure to check that out ;) I'm planning for 6 chapters but there might be more. Smut will happen eventually, of course!

The song for Chapter 1 is I'm On Fire by Bruce Springsteen, but also the covers of it by Awolnation and Gus Dapperton.

Happy reading!!

Dawn was breaking through the clouds. The waking sun broke through grey clouds that poured a steady, incessant shower of rain; the contrast of the glimmering rays against the somber clouds painted a watercolor sky. 

You walked down the cobblestone street, the heel of your shoes clinking with every stride as you walked into the coffeehouse at a speedy pace. It was the middle of autumn, the weather was tepid and chilly. You worked at Roasts & Poets, a hybrid of a cafe and a bookstore that your sweet aunt had left your favorite cousin, and she had been gracious enough to let you run it alongside her. 

Every morning was the same, and you wouldn't change a thing about it. You arrived at the crack of dawn to open the cafe, you were alone until your cousin arrived much later; you had always been more diligent and work-oriented than her when it came to running the cafe. You went through the whole process of the opening shift: setting the chairs and tables, stocking the sugars and napkins, picking up your cousin's slack from yesterday's closing shift, and setting out the freshly baked pastries. 

That's how you start your day every day. Your life was simple yet rewarding. Alone behind the counter, you took in the sight of the deserted shop, the smell of the books on their shelves collecting dust hitting your nostrils while sleep was still weighing down your eyes. The stillness and silence of the shop every morning made you content and warm. 

About half an hour later, your cousin arrived. The energy in her contrasted your mellowness. The minute she walked through the door, the sound of her cheery greeting and of the edge of the door's swing knocking the bell atop it sparked you awake. You gave her a wide smile as she stormed in, the rays of sun being her spotlight. 

"Morning, cuz," she beamed, you returned the greeting mid-yawn, followed by you letting out a loud sigh. She set her coat on the hooks next to the door beside yours -- you two had set those there as a cozy detail for your customers. 

"I had the best night last night," she started, walking towards you behind the counter and tying an apron around her waist the same as you. "Remember that guy I told you about?" 

"The Birmingham one?" you scoffed, remembering the drunken night when your cousin could not stop rambling about the bloke from Birmingham who stood her up.

"No," she rolled her eyes, "the hot one my friend set me up with!" 

You vaguely recalled, giving her an affirmative nod as your eyes drifted up, trying to remember the details of her extensive, messy love life. The two of you had been close and very similar since you were kids, but what stood out between you was how much of a hopeless romantic she was. You were more reserved about it; even though you knew it sounded cliche, you had decided long ago that the right man for you would come to you one day. Your knight in shining armor, your prince charming, perhaps. So you'd rather wait passively for that moment rather than how your cousin approached men head-on. 

You listened to her fawning over her most recent rendezvous with her new suitor, amused and enjoying her experience vicariously. 

As the day progressed, you welcomed and attended more patrons. You and your cousin took turns between taking orders and ringing up anyone who purchased books. There were a few regulars who came in every morning for a quiet space to work in, and others who just liked to lounge and read a book they had purchased along with a coffee in the comfy sofas you and your cousin had picked out when setting up the shop -- you had lost count of how many years ago that had been. 

When the shop was slowing down, you liked to prop your elbow on the counter, resting your chin on your hand as you people-watched. You loved the tranquility of it, thinking about each one's stories, reading them like books. 

One of the regulars was a man who always came in a burgundy knitted sweater and sat down with his laptop and headphones. He was quiet and reserved but always left you gratuitous tips; you knew his order and routine like the back of your hand. Another one was an older lady who always wore something pink, no matter what the rest of her outfit consisted of or what the occasion was. She was kind as well, but when she was feeling chatty she would sit at the counter and talk your ear off; today was a quiet day for her as she sipped her chamomille and read her novellas.   

As much as you enjoyed the peace of the shop, today was not a great day for silence for you. You hadn't gotten the best sleep last night, you had opted for binging the show you had been obsessing over and downed an entire bottle of wine by yourself. So, between your early start to the day and the light thumping of the headache you had medicated was making your eyes heavy with sleep. You couldn't wait for your shift to be over, maybe you would ask your cousin to let you lie down in the back. 

The sound of the bell as the door swung open jolted you awake for the second time today. You stood upright, fixing your posture and glancing at the door to greet the incoming customer. Your eyes captured a man you hadn't seen before around the area. He was tall with a bearded face and had a burly physique, sporting a navy blue sweater and grey coat that matched the beanie he slid off his head. You gave him a welcoming smile, not paying him much mind because of the sleep that still crept into your eyes. He returned the gesture as he made his way across the store, disappearing from your vision. 

You let out a sigh as you rubbed your knuckles into your lids. You desperately need a coffee if you want to get through the day, you thought, turning on your heels to pull yourself two shots of espresso. You poured the shots into a cup of milk you had frothed, making yourself a latte to spark some energy into you. 

As you turned back around to face the counter you were caught off guard by-- 

" 'Scuse me, miss?" a smokey voice startled you, making your body jump in place with a gasp escaping your lips. The latte in your hands splashed in your grasp at the sudden response of your body, its contents lightly spilling over your apron. 

"Shit!" you hissed, setting the cup down on the work counter behind you and grabbing the nearest rag to wipe your hands clean from any coffee that got on them. You looked up to the man across the counter, laughing at yourself in a mix of embarrassment at your clumsiness and lighthearted amusement. 

At that moment, your eyes caught onto the face of the mystery man who had recently walked in. His expression was genuinely concerned and apologetic, truly not knowing what to do with himself as he stood across the counter. 

"I'm so sorry, love, didn't mean to startle you," he stumbled over his words, "you alright?" 

His voice was raspy and deep, sultry even. You noted the details of his face: blue eyes stared back at you, surrounded by long lashes and bushy eyebrows, his pink, velvety lips slightly parted as if having more apologies to let out, his nose pointed and narrow, and his beard neat and full. He was handsome, truly, and you couldn't look away. 

"No worries!" you finally let out, a large smile on your face. "That's what these things are for!" you let out an awkward laugh, too loud to not give away the fact that you were flustered by his looks. Your hands worked the knot of the apron that tied at your waist as you spoke. 

The man let out a nervous chuckle as he watched you, still dumbfounded and itching to help in some way like he was uncomfortable with himself for just standing by.

"What can I help you with, sir?" You asked, tossing the apron in a bin under the counter, where you and your cousin kept any kitchen cloths and rags that needed to be washed after your shift. You didn't break eye contact with the man as you did, you found it impossible to when his blue eyes sucked you like the depth of an ocean. 

The man cleared his throat and fixed his posture, a nervous smile pulling at his bearded cheeks, "I was just wonderin' if y'could help me pick out a book" he pointed his thumb over his shoulders to the shelves behind him, "Any recommendations? 'M not sure where to look."  

You responded with an eager 'of course' as you circled the counter, leading him to the array of shelves. "Are you looking for anything in particular?" 

"Erm, up to your suggestion, really," he stood behind you, letting you take the lead, his eyes weighted on you. You responded with a pensive hum as your eyes scanned the shelves, hand holding your chin. You mumbled something under your breath and moved on to a different shelf. You reached for one of the books and turned back to him, handing the selection over to him. He took it from your hands.

Large hands, you observed. You hadn't realized until now how much taller the man was compared to you. You weren't a petite girl, but, this man stood tall; the way he carried himself proudly made him look even larger. 

He eyed the book, taking a moment to read the cover. He chuckled lightly to himself and glanced over to you. 

"As You Like It," he read. 

"You read it?" you asked a bit flustered, afraid you had made the wrong choice, "I recommend it to everyone." 

"I haven't, actually," he looked over to it again, "Not very well versed in Shakespeare." 

You chuckled a bit, "Well, this is a good one to get you into it." 

"I trust you," he said, a smirk on his face that made your cheeks burn. 

"It can be a bit hard to read but..." you shrugged, "It's one of my favorites." 

"I'll come to you if I need help, then." 

Your stomach fluttered at his words. Was he flirting? Maybe he's just a charming guy, nothing special. 

"Would you like anything else?" you stuttered. His gaze made you shift and adjust yourself, making you feel vulnerable to have it on you. 

"I'd like a tea to keep you company while you finish your coffee if that's alright," he flirted, his husky voice made the hairs on your arms stand up. 

You simply nodded with a smile and he followed you back to the counter. He sat on one of the stools as you stood behind the bar, he had asked you for a black tea and you steeped it for him, setting down a creamer and cup of sugar for him to add to taste. You went back to the latte you had made yourself, pouring it into ice after having let it get cold, and observed the man as subtly as you could manage. You noted he liked his tea on the sweeter side, maybe you would use that information for the next time he came around. You hoped he would. 

You watched as he took a sip from the cup, humming to himself and licking his lips as he set the cup back down. 'Good tea', he said softly as if to himself. You couldn't help but let a smile tug at the corners of your lips; something about him enjoying it was pleasant to you. 

"I'm John, by the way," he spoke up, his arms crossed on the counter. His eyes were on you again, and they were amiable and warm as they held contact with yours. You responded by telling him your name. 

"Are you new around here, John?" you reclined on the counter behind you, your coffee in one hand. 

"I am, I just moved in nearby," he took another sip from his cup. 

"What made you pick this place, if I may ask?" 

"Well, military accommodations, mainly," he cleared his throat. 

Military, you thought. No wonder he was such a large and buff man. You noticed the flexed muscles that bulged under his sweater. That sweater did them no justice, you were sure. 

"So you're a soldier?" 

"Somethin' like that, yeah," he scoffed with a smirk. You gave him a small smile as well but chose not to press any further. 

"What about the shop, what made you come in here?" 

"Seemed like a cozy place to spend the day," he gave you a once over, not very conspicuously, "the pretty barista's a bonus." 

You rolled your eyes at his comment but couldn't help the reddening of your cheeks or the growth of your smile that you tried but failed to suppress. 

At that moment, your cousin walked through the door. John's eyes didn't budge to look at the door, though, they were glued on you. She passed behind him, giving you the most excited expression you had seen on her face thus far, and mouthed something along the lines of 'He is so fit!" as she made her way to the back of the store with bags of ingredients in her hands. You scoffed at her and returned to look at John. 

"You flirt with all the baristas you find pretty, John?" 

"Only the ones that look like you," the man quipped, chuckling lightly to himself as if acknowledging how cheesy he was being. His comment made you laugh wholeheartedly, shaking your head at it.  

John finished his tea and fished into his pocket for his wallet, "I hate to leave, but... how much do I owe you, love?" 

"It's on the house," you crossed your arms over your chest, giving him a cheeky look, "for being a first-time customer." 

John gave you a smile with lightly flushed cheeks himself along with a grateful nod. He left his wallet in his pocket as he stood up from his seat and dressed his head with the beanie he had come in with. 

"I'll come back 'round to tell you how the book's goin'," he signaled the book in his hand on the way out the door, "You make great company, love." 

"Likewise, John," you bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from gushing at his words. You were using every atom in your body to not let yourself completely overflow with glee. 

John gave you a final look and raised his hand goodbye before exiting the shop. You returned the gesture and watched him walk away down the street until he disappeared from your line of sight. 

Once he was gone, you let out a deep breath you didn't know you were holding. You felt your heart skip a beat, maybe two, or even three beats as all the blood from your body surged to your face. Your cousin came skipping giddily from the back of the store, squealing like a schoolgirl as she embraced you. You couldn't help but join her in excitement. The two of you spoke in loud whispers behind the counter.

"That man is in love with you!" 

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, he was just flirting!" 

"Don't you be ridiculous! His eyes were devouring you, idiot! He might as well have fucked--" 

You shushed her loudly and cupped your hand over her mouth, the two of you giggling. You two realized you were still on the clock, with some of the patrons shooting glances at you. It made you both adjust and compose yourselves as best you could, but shot each other knowing looks as you returned to work, cleaning dirty dishes and whatnot. 

"So what's his name?" she asked. 

"John, he just moved around here-- says he's in the military." 

"Agh, hot!" she sang the last word. You rolled your eyes. 

"What book did you give him?" 

"As You Like It" 

"Should've given him Lady Chatterley's Lover, maybe he would've taken the hint," she laughed as you pushed her with a hand playfully. 

The rest of your shift went by uneventfully. You continued to serve more customers, tended to the regulars, and maintained the space. When it was closing time, the rays of the sun entered through the large windows, this time casting the golden glow of dusk. You mopped the floors of the shop and let yourself go deep into your thoughts. 

You thought about John, of course, studying all the details you had taken note of. The way his lashes fanned over his deep, crystal blue eyes; how much care was put into maintaining his facial hair and how soft it looked; how chiseled his nose was; how the sweetness of his smile complimented the sweetness he liked in his tea. He looked much older than you, but you didn't mind the slightest, it was a minor detail to you, if anything. You recalled how he called you pretty, and it made you blush and gave you butterflies. You really hoped he'd come back, but didn't want to disappoint yourself if he didn't.  

Once you two had finished closing, you stood outside the door with your cousin as she turned the key and locked the shop. She continued to tease you about John, making both of you laugh and making you blush with the innuendos and childish taunting she kept telling you. You bid each other farewells until tomorrow, walking your separate directions. 

You lived just a couple of blocks away from the cafe in one of the many apartments nearby. A flat you had all to yourself and you enjoyed the solitude, you had learned to be with yourself from having been your only company, besides your cousin, throughout your life. 

It made you think about the fact that it had been a while since you had liked someone. Did you like John?  The question stood out in your mind. It was definitely too early to tell, you had just met the man quite literally today, hours ago even. But you would be lying if you didn't say you felt some sort of attraction, chemistry between the two of you. Those hopes for seeing him again only grew the more you suppressed them.

But you kept telling yourself 'Don't get too excited,' because you might not see him again, after all. For now, let's simply call it a crush, it's all it was, really. Just a man you found attractive, a kind stranger you made you feel pretty and flattered momentarily, after so long of not hearing any men do so or having their attention.

John certainly gave you a lot of his attention, you thought. Those blue eyes of his. He entrapped you with them. An act as simple as being looked at by him made you feel undressed and vulnerable. 

You shook your head when you were in your flat, just standing there in a trance deep in thought. You sighed and cursed at yourself under your breath. 

You practiced your nightly routine of eating dinner by yourself, showering, dressing in your coziest pajamas, and sitting on your couch alone with either a book or a movie, and maybe a glass of something, maybe wine or a soothing tea.

And for once in your life, you hated being alone.

For once you wished there was someone to keep you company. A company as nice as John had kept you today even if it was brief. You sulked a bit on your sofa as you let that forlorn feeling take over just a little bit. 

And though as much as you loved mundanity, the feeling of having someone new and exciting disrupt your routine sparked a warmth in you. 

God, you hoped you'd see John again. 

[brummiereader]

MASTERLIST

Don't Fear The Reaper (Dark!Tommy/ Part One)

Summary: After what was supposed to be a chilled night in with a friend you end up playing a game that unintentionally summons back the dark presence that had haunted you most of your early adulthood. With no way of avoiding the inevitable reunion you are forced to face the otherworldly being and the unfinished business he is set on fulfilling. That unfinished business, you.

Warnings: Language, angst, supernatural themes, dark romance, mentions of blood, stalking, murder, obsessive behaviour, controlling behaviour, dark!tommy (This is a dark series with heavy potentially triggering undertones, please read the warnings before continuing)

Authors note: This series is inspired by the song "Don't Fear The Reaper" by Blue Oyster Cult, one of my all time favourite tracks.

November 1923...

" Today we gather in sorrow. In remembrance, as we lay Y/N Y/L/N to rest. A beloved granddaughter..." the Reverend said as he glanced up from his sermon to your grandfather, his eyes filled with unspent tears, a man of his time desperately trying to conceal the grief he felt at the vicious loss of his only remaining family member as he clutched his fingers around the single red rose in his weathered hands, scared and calloused from the years of manual labour he had endured. "a friend..." he continued as he looked at the many people gathered around the freshly dug grave, heads cast down, tears staining their reddened cheeks nipped by the cool November air of winter slowly approaching. "...and a blossoming love cruelly snatched away before it's time" he finished as he looked up across the casket to a man dressed all in black, his face concealed by the dark shadow cast by his peak cap, his eyes fixed on the muddied grass below him as a gust of bitter wind blew a scattering of dried leaves past his boots tumbling into the six-foot deep hole before him. His name, Thomas Shelby, the infamous keeper of Birmingham. " Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done..." the priest prayed, raising his hands as all those present began to recite the Lord's prayer in unison whilst Tommy pulled his gold pocket watch out, his brows knitting together at the lengthy time the service had already dragged out. He had things to do...places to be. "And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from, evil" the priest finished casting his gaze down in a moment of silence as Tommy's eyes darted up, met with the glaring stare of his Aunt as she held onto the Black Madonna around her neck. Her tear streaked face was visibly shaken from the anger rapidly coursing through her as her nephew dismissively turned his attention above to a hoard of black crows leaving their nest in a nearby tree, the ear-piercing caw of death parting in search of another poor soul of Small Heath to take to the underworld resonating through the gloomy cemetery. " We therefore commit this body to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust..." the priest hummed as he walked around the grave to the man whose path had fatefully collided with your own. Presenting him with a small ceramic pot Tommy lifted a handful of dirt from within the jar, tossing it into the grave as he bent down on one knee, rubbing the remaining soil that had scattered on the grass between his gloved fingers.

" Let's give 'em a show eh?" Tommy whispered as he stood up wiping his forefinger across the bottom of his lower lash as he locked eyes with his cousin. His jaw tightening his teeth clenched, Michael was one breath away from doing something he would undoubtedly regret as Tommy, who was amused with the whole situation, sent him a playful wink, his cousin's angry demeanour clearly not enough to stop him from riling him further up.

" Tommy..." Ada sobbed as she clutched onto her brother's arm wiping her tears away at the tragic event that had brought this day about as every attendee proceeded to bid their final farewell whilst the coffin was slowly lowered into the ground.

" What even was the point?" Ada sniffed as she walked beside Tommy down the gravelled path. "An empty casket Tommy..." She said stopping her brother as she looked back to the workmen shovelling heaps of muddied dirt back into the grave. The finest casket made in Birmingham, Tommy made sure of it. But weightless, empty, a disgrace in Ada's eyes that her beloved friends body had not been found, the only thing left in its expected place a small pool of blood and a dishevelled flat.

" To say goodbye Ada" he said as he rubbed a cigarette across his lips squinting into the distance as he watched the numerous mourners part from the cemetery, the same cemetery he seemed to have frequented more than any other place in his lifetime.

" Shit. I'm sorry" she said turning back to face her brother and the solemn expression he had conjured up settling on his face. "How are you?" she sighed, concerned with her brother's wellbeing and the persistent stoic demeanour he refused to let falter, even in times such as these.

"As expected" he said flatly as he blew a cloud of smoke to the greying sky, rubbing his brow with his thumb.

" You can talk to me Tommy. I know you hadn't been together for long, but..." she said crossing her arms as she bit her bottom lip trying to hold back the tears welling in her eyes. "...you loved her and she loved you, any fool could've seen that" she finished as she looked down at the ground, a tear slipping over her cheek as she dug the end of her shoe into the grass whilst Tommy observed his sisters turmoil in the corner of his eye, something be had yet been able to muster up himself. " Fuck, who invited him?" she spat looking to Michael as he got into one of the many Bentleys lined up at the bottom of the path.

" Polly" Tommy replied taking one last puff of his cigarette before throwing it onto the gravelled path beneath him, stubbing it out with the flat of his boot.

" Well he has no right" Ada said glaring at her cousin as she took a step closer to her brother. "Y/N was scared of him Tommy. She didn't want to worry you but..." Ada sighed as she watched Polly follow her son into the motor vehicle that could undoubtedly feed the whole of Small Heath for the next five years. "She'd convinced herself it was him following her. And she's not alone, me and the girls from the office think it was him too. You need to do something Tommy" Ada added in a hushed voice, despaired that justice hadn't yet been delivered on behalf of her dear friend.

" And I am, alright?" Tommy replied his brows raised in irritation, his sisters relentless questions regarding your presumed untimely demise starting to get on his last nerve, the beloved boyfriend a far cry from the grieving one he had been trying to portray.

" Wait, where are you going?" Ada asked as her brother turned to leave for his car.

" Away" he replied shortly as his sister stepped in front of him, her brows creasing at the sudden patch of blood staining the collar of his freshly laundered white shirt, snagged by the sharp movement of Tommy's head snapping back to her.

" Jesus Tommy, what the fuck happened to you?" she said as she pulled his collar further down, a large cut that had all but been concealed for the entirety of the service suddenly making itself known.

"Must've nicked myself shaving" Tommy said dismissively as he pulled his shirt back up, hissing at the sharp friction of the cloth grazing against the bloodied wound on his neck.

" Nicked? Was you wrangling a wild animal whilst you was shaving?" She scoffed as she folded her arms eyeing up the crimson stain for a second time, the cut resembling more the grooves of human fingernails scratched into flesh than any injury made by the act of male grooming. " Tommy, what...what about the wake?" Ada called out to her brother as he ignored any further remarks on the suspicious gash to his neck making his way down the path.

" I need time to think, alone Ada. In peace" he called back whilst she watched from afar, an exasperated huff leaving her throat before grief overcame her once more and she headed back up to the grave to say her final goodbye in private.

"Fill her up lads, to the top" he said handing a bundle of King George notes to two more gravediggers in passing on the gritted walkway, his black coat blowing open as a gust of wind cut through the cemetery creaking the leafless branches of a weeping ash tree nearby. Lighting a cigarette Tommy looked up to the top of the graveyard, eyeing up the spot he had chosen for your supposed resting place as a devilish smirk formed on his lips, hidden to those nearby by the cloud of smoke pummelling into the crisp Autumn air. Devilish indeed, manipulative, a wicked lie fabricated for those that would never come to learn the truth of what really happened on that fateful night, all but two of course.

Pulling at your restraints you cried out as your wrists scraped along the ropes, the sharp burn of the twine searing your skin as the all too familiar sound of a car driving along the muddied grass haltered your attempts to call for aid. Cowering yourself into the corner of the small vardo you brought your knees up to your chest as the door opened and the sweet smell of tobacco filled the the room.

" Tut, tut" you heard him say as he grabbed your wrists inspecting your pathetic attempts to escape.

The man you had determined to have been following you, stalking you, now inches from you, his breath hot against your cheek as he leant forward gently untying the cloth from around your eyes, slowly pulling it away. He had fooled you into loving him, convinced you he had kept you from harms way, and he was back again to convince you once more into understanding why he did what he had so selflessly done. Albeit with a wicked grin mischievously playing on the corner of his mouth.

"Tommy..."

" Hello darling"

November 2023...

"Fuck, shit...fuck!" You yelled as you pulled your hand from within the file of papers you had decided to spring-clean, a rather late spring-clean of eight months that was. " Fuck..." You resorted one last time just for the thrills of dramatising the injury you had acquired in your attempts to be an orderly person. Said injury, a bloody paper cut. One that seemed to have amassed it's very own heartbeat in the space of a few seconds. Painful, but not the worst injury you had brought upon yourself. The great stubbing of ones toe in the summer of 2022 when you decided on rearranging your whole flat during a existential crisis had yet to be topped. Avoiding the scattering of crap that now adorned your bedroom floor you headed for the bathroom to wrap your bleeding finger in whatever was available. Toilet paper should do the trick you thought to yourself as you grabbed a roll of Andrex Supreme Quilts from your bathroom cupboard, only the finest for your ass. What on earth made you think this was a good idea? You thought to yourself as you looked around your home that had started to ressemble an episode of hoarders when a small box peaking out under a stack of folders caught your eye, its recognisable pattern embellishing the sides of the cardboard making your heart skip a beat. " What the..." You said aloud as a heavy feeling of dread and confusion settled in the pit of your stomach, your eyes wide at seeing the one item that had all but destroyed any attempts you had made to have a normal life. The same item you thought you had thrown out along with all the memories of the years you had spent trying to understand why they chose you, why it was you their voices never left your thoughts in peace. Is that how it all started? Your ability, or as your referred to it, curse. A stupid board game that had single handedly cast you out from not only your childhood friends but your own family. The same family aside from your beloved granddad that had dragged you to every psychiatrist in the county, every priest, every professional that had prescribed you not with help or sympathy but the label of burden, attention seeker. But a child's imaginary friends were not so imaginary. They would seek you out, knowing you were their connection to the living world for years up until your early adult when another deathly presence appeared, one that stayed in the shadows, always watching from afar. He was not like the others, he stayed back, his gaze always hidden by the shadow his peak cap would cast on his face. And unlike the others he scared you, really fucking scared you. Picking the box up you marched into your kitchen throwing it on the table as you reached into a cupboard for a bin bag. You had been rid of him for years and you would be rid of this game too. After all, it was because of him you shut your eyes from the unliving, ignored their whisperings, determined to live a normal life as normally as you could. That was your plan until the doorbell obnoxiously rang five times in a row and your friends voice reverberated through the corridors of your flat building.

" Open up whore, I brought booze! " she giggled loudly as you heard her stumble forward. Bloody hell, was she already drunk?

" Helena.." you smiled as you opened the door to her standing with a bottle of Smirnoff Ice in her hand, hell-bent on recreating her teen years taking shots from the bottle cap. Oh great, she brought friends, you thought to yourself as you rolled your eyes at the two smartly dressed men behind her.

" You are a klutz babe" she lovingly remarked looking down at your makeshift bandage tightly wrapped around your finger with a kiss to your cheek. " Barneby and Hugh" she introduced you to the two men that had already made themselves at home, currently splayed across your sofa as the nauseating smell of their aftershave they had doused themselves in filled the room. You would never comment on the name anyone had been bestowed upon by their dear parents but, my god...had they just walked off the polo pitch? Londoners no doubt, private upper schooling you thought to yourself, your suspicions only confirmed when the tall blonde Hugh stood up from your sofa with his hand out for you to shake his accent quickly making itself known.

" Hugh. We work for Goldman Sachs in London, took a detour to take in the local..." he cleared his throat as he looked back at his friend with a smirk. Idiot. What an opening line, was he about to present you with his business card? "...sights of Birmingham on our way up north when one of our associates introduced us to the lovely Helena" he said sitting down on the arm of your sofa as he eyes roamed over your body. Detour... What did he think Small Heath was? The local petting zoo to gawk at, the same way he was gawking at you? Yes there was your average oddball here and there and the man that walked around town shoeless, regardless as to whether it was pissing it down or scorching hot outside. But it was your town, and you wouldn't have any jumped up city boy put it down.

" Hmm, how is the big smoke?" you quipped back as the perfectly groomed man with a suspiciously tinted beard grin widened.

" She's feisty Hughey, just how you like them" his friend laughed as his grin settled into a cocky smirk. Hughey...give me strength.

" Helena, I thought we was just gonna watch a movie get some takeou.."

" What the heck! No no, you're not throwing that out!" She screeched as she bolted up from the armchair to the Ouija board you had intended to bin. She was unusually chaotic than her normal bubbly self. The Smirnoff had clearly already been tasted, enjoyed and partly consumed, you thought to yourself as you eyed up the bottle missing a good chunk of it's contents. " I've always wanted to have a go with one of these. Why didn't you say you had this naughty game in your possession?" she asked clutching it to her chest.

" I prefer strip poker but this could be a laugh " the other Londoner remarked with a chuckle as he stood up taking the box from your friend. Could you will your curse to him, you thought to yourself as your eyes narrowed in on the game in his hand. They were getting increasingly annoying. Could they just, fuck off?

" How about it Y/N?" Your friend smiled with joy at the idea of exploring the supernatural side of life.

" I, I don't think it's a good idea" you said as you snatched the box away from the man who had started rootling through it, feeling overly protective over something you intended to discard of, a sudden longing to be comforted by your childhood companions, your only companions. Would they come back if you let them? Or had too much time passed since you had shut your eyes to the spirit world, since you had pushed them out of your life?

" Don't be a spoil sport Y/N" the blonde said prying the board from your bear like grip as you began to feel as if someone was taking a part of what made you uniquely you away from your whole being.

" We can't do it here, it's not the right setting" your friend said looking around your place wanting a full immersion into whatever overly exaggerated scene she wanted to recreate from one of the many movies or shows she had watched " Ooh let's go to that passing by the riverside. You know, the one from all the story's about the dark mysterious figure that resides down there as smoke blows from the old wagons chimney" she said grinning from ear to ear recounting the story every resident of Small Heath had heard since childhood.

" Helena, that's private property" you said as she began to drag you with her to the front door, grabbing your jacket on the way out as she linked arms with you.

" It's just a bit of fun, please? " she pleaded as she waited for a response. A bit of fun, you could list a whole page of other activities that sounded funner. The first being getting take out and drinking yourself to sleep, the original plan for tonight. Could you risk delving back into the otherworldly land you had cut off? Had your ability vanished for good? What if they reappeared, what if he appeared the one you had been painstakingly avoiding for near a decade. It had been so long, surely he was gone, right?

"Fine" your reluctant response slipped out not wanting to be the that person as you headed out the door when just like any generic horror movie your friend was desperately trying to duplicate an uneasy feeling suddenly settled in your stomach. You had become the very character you would scream at your TV screen, violently throwing popcorn in its direction to not be a cliché and go into the creepy woods with a Ouija board, one slightly pissed friend and two idiot tag alongs. But yet here you was, about to ignore every fiber of your being telling your to turn back.

" Hello Mr magpie how's your wife and kids" you whispered quietly to yourself watching the black and white bird perched on a large log that had undoubtedly fallen during the storm that had come through last week as you clutched the thinnest jacket your friend could have possibly picked out for you around your body. Fashion over functionality, that was Helena's Moto you thought to yourself feeling your fingers go numb from the cool air of the bitter Autumn night. One for joy, two for a boy, how many was it for death...no fuck, that wasn't it. You mentally hummed to yourself as you looked around for a second magpie having forgotten the silly superstition your grandad had always recited to you in the presence of the blue tailed bird.

" Can warm you up if you like?" Hugh laughed putting his arm around you which you automatically shrugged off. " You're as frigid as this weather" he joked as you stormed ahead of you with an irritated huff, catching up with your friend who was a few feet ahead of you as your eyes darted around the open area surrounded by numerous large oak trees, the soft sound of the riverbank gently colliding with the muddied ground pricking your ears. As peaceful as it looked in the silver moonlight casting array of shadows onto the dewy grass you didn't want to be here, something felt...off. You was sure you had never once entered this area In your whole existence but yet, something felt eerily similar about it. What you wouldn't do to be in front of the comforting fire of your late granddads home, watching him nod off in front of the TV with a bowl of striped humbugs in his lap, his dentures floating in a glass of water beside him...not the most poetic image you could've conjured up as your anxiety started to make itself presence, but it was home, and it was where your heart was. Your thoughts had become so tangled, since he passed, uncomfortably intrusive. You felt lonely, so lonely in a world surrounded by people that life had become one long draining experience day in day out. You was desperate for relief from the crushing weight of the cards you had been dealt in life.

"Ooh perfect" your friend said snapping you out of your thoughts as she walked up to an old wooden picnic table in the middle of the passing, the worn emerald green vardo that had fallen apart like the rest of the upkeep of the area feet from you, silently stuck in times from before. " Right come on then, tell us how it works"

" Guys I don't think this is a good..." You started to say when Brian, Barney, Barneby, whatever his name was rudely interrupted you.

"You know what I think sweetie, I think you're scared" he laughed as he went to sit down, his nose turning up at the rotten wood he was about to place his Tom Ford three-piece suit that's trousers looked two sizes too small. If he was trying to accentuate what he was packing he needn't bother.

" You can sit next to me if you like" Hugh winked as you purposely made a point to sit across from him, covering your exposed cleavage with your jacket from his pervy leering eyes. The quicker you got this over with this the quicker you could distance yourself from these two imbeciles, you thought to yourself as you pulled the box In front of you, your hands tracing over the pieces of your childhood. The game in itself was pretty simple you each placed two fingers on the triangular shaped piece of wood and proceeded to ask questions. That was it, what happened after was open for debate.

"We call upon the spirit world and welcome those into the circle who wish to speak with us" you said aloud, your mouth suddenly going dry at the passage you never thought you'd hear leave your lips as the tall blonde seated in front of you scoffed at the words you could only image he thought were nothing more than absurd ramblings of wishful thinking.

" It's not doing anything" your friend remarked, now fully submerged in the game she wholeheartedly believed was more than something teens would play in abandoned buildings late at night, desperate for her own supernatural experience.

" It can take some tim..." You started to say as the planchette started moving, both idiots opposite you nudging eachother under the table as your friends eyes stayed fixed on the moving piece of wood, your own attention startled by the arrival of a dozen people slowly approaching through the wooded area, their deafening whispers muffling out your friends voice. Your eyes darted between Helena and the two men she had brought along with her, willing them to see what you could see as the small crowd of people closed in surrounding the table as they called out the names of their family. Mother's, sister, brothers, fathers, grandparents, begging you to pass message after message onward to their loved ones. "Stop..please..." you said quietly, closing your eyes as you pressed your hand to your forehead. There was too many of them, it was happening too fast. You wanted it to stop to just stop, just fucking stop...

" Enough!" A loud deep voice boomed through the crisp night air as the dead retreated back and the form of a man leaning against a tree dressed all in black came into your view, a cloud of smoke pummeling above his head, his eyes cast down at the ground as he rolled his cigarette between his fingers. It was him, he was back. " Leave" he commanded to the others as he slowly strode towards you.

They couldn't see him, why couldn't they see him? He was standing right there, right fucking next to you. You thought to yourself as your chest heaved up and down from the sheer panic rapidly coursing through you, your breaths coming in ragged shallow ripples as his black tailored coat grazed along your arm sending a burning shiver down your spine. A dumb game, a stupid dumb game. Why did you agree to this? You had unknowingly invited him back, summoned him after all the years you had painstakingly tried to keep his presence at bay, you panicked as you looked in the corner of your eye to see him rubbing his thumb over his forefinger, enticing you to look up, taunting you to meet the piercing glare you was certain you'd be met with if you dared to look his way. But yet you stayed motionless, frozen as your eyes slowly settled on your hand resting over the intricately detailed planchette as your friend beside you giggled at its erratic movements on the board below it, which either one or both of the idiots she had brought along with her were undoubtedly doing.

" Alright I've had enough, which one of you wankers is moving it?" Your friend Helena demanded to know as you looked across to the prick that had been hounding you since the moment he laid eyes on you, a faint smirk playing on the corner of his mouth when a leather gloved hand crept across the table placing itself over yours, slowly lacing it's fingers between your own. Your whole body trembling, you desperately tried to pull your hand away when the sinister figure standing beside you grip tightened, keeping your from escaping his inevitable presence as the wooden triangle started to move.

" Y/N…" Your friend said looking to you as the planchette stopped, your name having been spelt letter by letter in a gentle dance of toing and froing that swept across the board until all those present eyes widened not only in fear but confusion. If they weren't moving it, who was? Releasing his hand from yours he reached up, brushing away a lone tear resting on the top of your reddened cheek that had settled in the midst of the spine-chilling ordeal. "Babe, what's wrong?" your friend asked, your frightened, shaken demeanor concerning her enough to pull her hand from the game as she placed her arm around your shoulders in attempts to comfort you when you felt the very figure you had been evading for near a decade rest his thumb gently on the end of your chin, the sound of his leather gloves creasing sending a nauseating chill throughout your body as he turned your head to face him. And there he was. The man, the presence you thought you'd never see again, his face masked by the shadow of his peaked cap now visible to your eye, his ghostly pale skin brightened by his piercing blue eyes boring Into you as a smile formed on the edge of his lips…

" Hello darling. I've been waiting for you" he said as your bottom lip began to wobble, a cascade of tears now streaming down your cheeks wetting the leather gloved thumb still resting on your chin as he tenderly gazed into your eyes. " Shhh" he hushed your frightened sobs as his hand moved to your cheek cupping his fingers gently around the side of your neck.

" What's with her?" the man opposite your friend said as your gaze stayed fixed on the presence before you, watching the irritation build on his face at the the tender moment he had played through his mind countless times spoiled by he annoying chattering of the man accompanying you.

" You're shaking gorgeous. Offer's still there hm? Can warm you up in that broken down gypsy thing" Hugh snickered along with his friend as Helena glared at him, an array of insults leaving her lips. " We'd be better off naked though, we'll warm up quicker that way" he laughed obnoxiously when the presence before you head snapped in his direction, the blue hue of eyes quickly replaced by a sinister black as he threw the table over in front of you in one quick deliberate motion. With his hand clenched into a fist he turned to the man who had not only embarrassed you but insulted you shamelessly In front of everyone with the suggestion you were as crude as him, landing a brutally violent single punch to his face.

" What...what the fuck! What was that?" His friend stuttered leaping from the bench as he looked down at his dazed friend, blood dripping from an open gash on his bottom lip as Helena screamed in horror at what had just happened, her brain simultaneously trying to compute how it had happened. " We're getting the hell out of here" he said lifting his friend from the ground that was holding his lip together as the being beside you rested his hand firmly on your shoulder, squeezing his fingers into your flesh in a clear message to not dare move.

" Babe...Y/N we gotta go" your friend cried trying to pull you from the bench as you stayed seated and the dark presences grip on you tightened.

" Leave Helena " you cried not wishing harm to come to anyone else. He wanted you, he had haunted you for all those years. Your friend and the two men accompanying you were a mere inconvenience. And after what had just transpired, you feared what he could and would do next.

" What! No come on..!" She pleaded shaking you from what she thought was a state of shock when the man she had invited let go of his bloodied friend and started pulling her away from you. " Y/N!" she cried, the distant sound of her fighting with him as he dragged her out of the gated area slowly disappearing as you was ultimately left in silence, alone, with him.

" Please...let me go" you wept as you turned your head to face him.

" Let you go? I've only just got you back sweetheart" he said as he released his hand from your shoulder, his fingers now brushing through the locks of hair framing your face. " You invited me back love, and that was one invitation I could not refuse" he said as you stood up taking a step back when he reached out and grabbed your wrist." Now now Y/N, we have unfinished business" he said pulling you back to him, his pale ivory face inches from you, lips drained of blood tauntingly close.

" I came in peace, with no intentions to offend. I say goodbye and bid you farewell" you recited the words you had learnt by heart after any encounter you once had speaking with those from the other realm.

" Oh sweetheart, now who taught you that little rhyme eh? I'm afraid it doesn't work like that love" he chuckled cocking a brow at the idea that your silly little riddle would cause him to simply vanish before you. " My girl" he said as his thumb dragged down to the corner of your mouth, tracing the curve of your trembling lips, staring at you like a lover would gaze at their partner.

"I, I don't know you, I'm not who you're looking for" you sobbed as you looked down at your hands, clutching them together from the drop in temperature his presence demanded.

" Oh but you do know me darling. You know me very well" he said as his lips parted and his eyes drifted down to the soft flesh of your neck, down to the curves your blouse beneath your jacket hugged your body. " I've waited a century for this very moment, for us to finally be reunited. And believe me sweetheart, my patience is starting to wear thin, very thin" Is that what this was...He thought you were his dead lover, a reincarnation of her that he had been waiting a hundred years for, an anomaly where everything that makes something uniquely individual to them, their genes their likes their dislikes repeating itself into a second copy days, years, thousands of decades later, you thought to yourself as your eyes widened at the realisation of what he had been waiting for, what he had been watching you for as you turned to make a swift exit.

" I can't let you leave Y/N" he said as the large metal gate to the opening slammed shut making you abruptly stop in your tracks.

" I want to go home. I'm not her, I don't belong here..." You cried in a panic, turning back to face him as he strode forward to you his with his hand out, calmly waiting for you to take it.

" Then let me show you" he replied intertwining his fingers with yours as he gently cupped your cheek with his other hand, the welcoming chill from his leather gloved hand soothing the heat radiating from your reddened tear stained cheek. "Let me show you who you were, who you were in 1923..."

NEXT PART

Tag list: @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @prettywhenicry4 @smayhem

[fatehbaz]

Indigenous genocide and removal from land and enslavement are prerequisites for power becoming operationalized in premodernity, a way in which subjects get (what Wynter names) “selected” or “dysselected” from geography and coded into colonial possession through dispossession. The color line of the colonized was not merely a consequence of these structures of colonial power or a marginal effect of those structures; it was/is a means to operationalize extraction (therefore race should be considered as foundational rather than as periphery to the production of those structures and of global space). Richard Eden, in the popular 1555 publication Decades of the New World, compares the people of the “New World” to a blank piece of “white paper” on which you can “paynte and wryte” whatever you wish. “The Preface to the Reader” describes the people of these lands as inanimate objects, blank slates [...]. [Basically, "Man" is white, while nonwhite people are reduced an aspect of the landscape, a resource.] Wynter suggests that we [...] consider 1452 as the beginning of the New World, as African slaves are put to work on the first plantations on the Portuguese island of Madeira, initiating the “sugar–slave” complex - a massive replantation of ecologies and forced relocation of people [...]. Wynter argues that the invention of the figure of Man in 1492 as the Portuguese travel to the Americas instigates at the same time “a refiguring of humanness” in the idea of race. This refiguring of slaves trafficked to gold mines is borne into the language of the inhuman [...].

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The natal moment of the 1800 Industrial Revolution, [...] [apparently] locates Anthropocene origination in [...] the "new" metabolisms of technology and matter enabled by the combination of fossil fuels, new engines, and the world as market. [...] The racialization of epistemologies of life and nonlife is important to note here [...]. While [this industrialization] [...] undoubtedly transformed the atmosphere with [...] coal [in the nineteenth century], the creation of another kind of weather had already established its salient forms in the mine and on the plantation. Paying attention to the prehistory of capital and its bodily labor, both within coal cultures and on plantations that literally put “sugar in the bowl” (as Nina Simone sings) [...]. The new modes of material accumulation and production in the Industrial Revolution are relational to and dependent on their preproductive forms in slavery [...].

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Catherine Hall’s project Legacies of British Slave-Ownership makes visible the complicity in terms of structures of slavery and industrialization that organized in advance the categories of dispossession that are already in play and historically constitute the terms of racialized encounter of the Anthropocene. In 1833, Parliament finally abolished slavery in the British Caribbean, and the taxpayer payout of £20 million in “compensation” [paid by the government to slave owners] built the material, geophysical (railways, mines, factories), and imperial infrastructures of Britain and its colonial enterprises and empire. As the project empirically demonstrates, these legacies of colonial slavery continue to shape contemporary Britain. A significant proportion of funds were invested in the railway system connecting London and Birmingham (home of cotton production and [...] manufacturing for plantations), Cambridge and Oxford, and Wales and the Midlands (for coal). Insurance companies flourished and investments were made in the Great Western Cotton Company, for example, and in cotton brokers, as well as in big colonial land companies in Canada (Canada Land Company) and Australia (Van Diemen’s Land Company) and a number of colonial brokers. Investments were made in the development of metal and mineralogical technologies [...].

The slave–sugar–coal nexus both substantially enriched Britain and made it possible for it to transition into a colonial industrialized power [...]. The slave trade [...] fashioned the economic conditions (and institutions, such as the insurance and finance industries) for industrialization. Slavery and industrialization were tied by the various afterlives of slavery in the form of indentured and carceral labor that continued to enrich new emergent industrial powers from both the Caribbean plantations and the antebellum South. Enslaved “free” African Americans predominately mined coal in the corporate use of black power or the new “industrial slavery,” [...].

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The labor of the coffee - the carceral penance of the rock pile, “breaking rocks out here and keeping on the chain gang” (Nina Simone, Work Song, 1966), laying iron on the railroads - is the carceral future mobilized at plantation’s end (or the “nonevent” of emancipation). [...]

[T]he racial circumscription of slavery predates and prepares the material ground for Europe and the Americas in terms of both nation and empire building - and continues to sustain it.

---

All text above by: Kathryn Yusoff. "White Utopia/Black Inferno: Life on a Geologic Spike". e-flux Journal Issue #97. February 2019. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me. Text within brackets added by me for clarity. Presented here for commentary, teaching, criticism purposes.]

[meteorologistaustenlonek]

"We’ve been getting some questions about the smoke downtown but the sky is CLEAR AND WE ARE STILL PLAYING BASEBALL 😁

Thank you to the #ChattanoogaFireDepartment for your efforts today and every day!"

-- #ChattanoogaLookouts @ChattLookouts

[inell]

Kindred Spirits

Buck/Eddie, Adult. Chapter 6 of 10.

Eddie has been a member of Paranormal Research Group for nearly four years after being recruited during one of their investigations. During that time, he’s found a job he enjoys, created a family that cares about him, become an unwilling reality TV star, and fallen in love with his best friend and partner, Buck. The team is traveling across the country filming the second season of their hit reality show, Haunted Case Files, and Eddie’s unknowingly going to find his skepticism challenged when Buck sets out to prove that there’s such a thing as destiny and fate, and that some things are meant to be.

In the week since they left The Myrtles, filming has gone smooth and easy. The hospital in Birmingham had been a dud, no activity at all. Not even Chim trying to persuade someone to claim it was haunted. After that, they had gone to Raleigh to investigate an old farmhouse. There had been some suspicious activity around the barn, noises on the EVP that sounded like a man discussing the weather, but nothing as undeniably unexplained as the door at The Myrtles.

There’s still a fading bruise on Eddie’s shoulder blade, and Buck’s become overly cautious when they’re filming together, like he’s somehow to blame for Eddie getting hit with the door. The flirting has continued, too. A more serious kind of flirting that makes Eddie feel like an infatuated teenager despite his best efforts to not to blush and get butterflies at the attention.

It isn’t just flirting, though. Buck’s been touching him more often, casual touches that they’ve always shared but now they have more intent behind them. Eddie often catches Buck watching him with that intense expression on his face, like he’s studying Eddie and learning everything he can about him.

It’s slightly overwhelming to have Buck’s entire focus on him like that.

Read Chapter 6 here on AO3!

[awritesthings1]

Silent Night

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: Set the Christmas before World War 1, Tommy and you share a special moment on the front steps of Watery Lane.

ao3 link

-

“Merry Christmas, Tom.”

The words were swept away by the shrill cry of the wind battering the powerlines above Watery Lane. Together, you sat nestled beneath a faint porch light as the snow blanketed the streets of Small Heath. Tommy leaned into your back, and you snuggled into his chest, with both his legs bracketing you in. The stars—which were hard to make out by how heavy the snow fell—vacated the sky for incandescent streetlights.

Tommy squeezed his arms around you in response, which were locked around your shoulders and clasped at your chest. His warm breath tickled the hairs on your neck. You involuntarily shivered, although he mistook it for the cold, pressing a firm kiss to your pulse. Your back curled delightfully into the warmth of his body and overcoat.

The only Christmas lights you would get to see in 1913 were candles perched on windowsills and streetlights that faded in and out depending on how hard the snow fell. None of it mattered, though. You survived another year in Birmingham, which was enough to be grateful for. Your body hummed lowly like a cat, purring as you admired the stark white flakes falling a breath away from your boots. Tommy’s eyelashes brushed against your skin as he shielded them in the valley of your neck and shoulder.

Muffled music played through the walls across the street. Silhouettes danced through the windowpanes, back and forth, around and forward.

For Christmas, Tommy gifted you a long, soft, red scarf. You wore it around your neck, but it hung loosely due to Tommy’s insistent nose nudging it down. The side that draped over your lap, you used to wrap around your hands like mittens for warmth.

“We should get back,” you whispered behind heavy eyelids.

Tommy hummed into your neck but didn’t make any further movement. You couldn’t blame him either. The period leading up to the holiday season was nothing short of exhausting. Polly needed to gather enough food to feed the mouths around the table, Tommy needed to find small gifts for everyone to open, and Arthur needed to win enough bets to pay for firewood. And you? You tried to shrink beneath the floorboards to feel like less of a burden because you were left under Polly’s care five Christmases ago by your father, who had decided to pack up his things and move across the pond for better job opportunities. He promised to send money back to Polly to pay for your needs, but she was still waiting on the first payment all these years later.

You shifted into Tommy’s embrace, turning around so that you could peck him on the lips. Cheekily, he held the back of your neck and kissed you back more eagerly. You couldn’t help the smile that formed at his sudden passion, but you pulled away nonetheless, not wanting to be caught sucking face on the front doorsteps by any of the Shelby family members or by passersby. When you drew back enough to see his face, you saw the way his eyelids blinked low and slow. The blue in his eyes was frozen into a dull gray, like how you imagined a translucent ghost might be.

You brushed the longer part of his hair back and felt his temperature with the back of your hand. He was burning up, despite the cold weather.

“Let’s go inside, Tom." You smiled gently, briefly letting your nose press into his collar for warmth as you hugged him.

He grumbled something unintelligible, but let you pull him to his feet. Instinctively, his hand went to the small of your back as you both shuffled inside, where the smell of Polly’s Christmas mince pies greeted you. By the time you were wrapped up in a blanket and cuddled together in front of the fire, the pies were still warm, and the magic of Christmas still remained. The night went on; Arthur told some amusing stories to Ada and John; Finn fell asleep on the floor; and Polly carefully slipped a cushion beneath his head. And even if nothing terribly remarkable happened, the Christmas of 1913 wormed its way into your heart, where it would remain for many years to come.

-

A/N: I have a longfic ready to publish but I'm holding it hostage because I don't want it to get lost in the holiday fics lol. Also I have a tag list so leave a comment if you want to be tagged in any new Tommy fics I write :)

Taglist: @fairytale07 , @ilovepeoplesdads , @goblinjnr , @maliceofwonderland .

[auroracalisto]

colds in the winter — the reader falls ill in the middle of winter, worrying tommy and their son, charlie. tommy even goes as far as taking a day off to keep an eye on her. word count: 803 words tw: colds, slight!ooc tommy?? i feel like it could be interpreted this way, but i’ll leave that up to you to decide, fem!reader a/n: i’m always sick. you now have this as a result. :P also… ignore the totally lame title. LMAO

Winter had fallen upon Birmingham once more. Clouds constantly littered the grey skies, and rain fell far more often than you had liked. Snow would soon litter the grounds of your beloved home.  

Your coat was often glued to your shoulders, buttoned up your body for warmth. Without it, the temperatures would have you freezing, guaranteed to make you sick. However, your attempts of staying remotely healthy fell short of successful.

In a matter of days, the cold weather had taken its toll on you, leaving you lying in bed, staring up at the tall ceiling. Your nose stuffed up, your ears feeling as though they needed to pop. A raging headache had made its way to every corner in your head. The sun peaking through your bedroom curtains did little to soothe your aching body.

Thomas was nowhere to be seen. He must have left sometime in between your off-and-on sleeping that morning. You hadn’t even bothered to check the time, knowing it was well into the day. Thomas surely had been gone for hours.

With a groan, you forced yourself to sit up, rubbing your face with the palms of your hands.

The little patter of feet came rushing towards your bedroom door.  Charlie busted through, a smile on his sweet face.  

“Mum!” he quipped, rushing over to your side.  He reached out to you, expectantly waiting for you to pick him up.  

As you moved to do so, a cough emitted from your throat, soon followed by another, and then another.  You quickly covered your mouth with the inside of your elbow, moving away from Charlie.  You couldn’t risk getting your baby sick.  

“Charlie, what did I tell you?” Thomas said as he rounded the corner, coming into your shared bedroom.  “Leave your mother—“ 

Thomas stopped short as he heard your cough.  

“Are you alright?” he asked, coming over to your side.  “Should I call for a doctor?”

You curtly nodded, squeezing your eyes shut.  

“I had figured you were tired.  Tossing and turning all night,” Thomas frowned, leaning forward to pick up Charlie.  He sat him in his lap.  “I tried to keep him from bothering you, but it seems as though my attempts were futile.”

“You didn’t go to work?” you frowned as you looked up at him.

“No,” he shook his head.

“And why is that?” you questioned your husband. He hardly ever missed work. 

He pursed his lips, avoiding your gaze. “I had things I needed to take care of, here.”

“Like?”

“Mrs. Shelby, I did not come here to be interrogated.” he huffed, looking down at Charlie who was just giggling. Charlie looked over at his mother, smiling all the while. 

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, leaning back against the pillows once more. “Well—” Before you could get a word out, you began to cough once more. You coughed into your elbow, but it only seemed to get worse with each one. 

Thomas quickly put Charlie tell, instructing him to tell the maid to call for the doctor. Charlie nodded and ran off to do as he was told, leaving his father with his sick mother. 

“I do believe this is the reason I stayed home,” he said, coming to your side. He gently pressed the back of his hand to your forehead, frowning. “You are warm. I would say you have a fever.”

“Then you most definitely should not be in here with me.”

He gave you a faint smile. “Mrs. Shelby, you are in no position to tell me what to do.”

You rolled your eyes again, huffing once more. 

He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “You will be alright.”

“It is merely a cold. No need for the dramatics.”

He grinned, his hand cupping the side of your face. 

“Perhaps,” he said. “I am not leaving your side until the doctor gets here.”

You frowned. “Well that’s preposterous. You should leave. Go to work. You’ve never missed for something so silly before.”

“My wife being sick is silly?” he questioned. 

Perhaps he had a point. He had many loves in the past who left him in a matter of seconds because of things far more drastic than just a cold—but the worry he had was justifiable. 

You sighed softly and closed your eyes. 

“Will you at least lie with me? Instead of hovering over me like that?”

He just smirked, sitting down beside of you. He wrapped an arm around your torso, pulling you close. He knew the maid would warn them before the doctor arrived, so he would have plenty of time to straighten himself up. But for now, he would hold the one woman who made these dastardly winters worth it all, even if he might end up sick as well. 

[beardedmrbean]

Part of Stonehenge has been covered in orange powder paint by protesters.

Two Just Stop Oil campaigners sprayed the powder paint on the historic site near Salisbury, Wiltshire, at about 12:00 BST on Wednesday.

The move comes the day before celebrations beginfor the Summer Solstice at the 5,000-year-old landmark.

Wiltshire Police confirmed two people had been arrested on suspicion of damaging the ancient monument.

Just Stop Oil said the orange powder paint was cornflour and it would "wash away with rain".

The group named the two protesters as Niamh Lynch, a 21-year-old student from Oxford, and Rajan Naidu, a 73-year-old from Birmingham, in a statement.

'Extremely upsetting'

Prime Minister Rishi Sunak condemned the incident as a “disgraceful act of vandalism”.

Leader of the Labour Party Sir Keir Starmer said the damage was "outrageous" and described Just Stop Oil as "pathetic".

Members of the public were heard shouting "no" and seen running to intervene as the campaigners ran up to the stone circle at the Unesco world heritage site.

A spokeswoman for English Heritage described the spraying of the monument as "extremely upsetting" and confirmed the site remained open to the public.

She said the incident would not affect the annual summer solstice, with celebrations still planned to take place overnight on Thursday.

BBC correspondent, Paul Clifton, the first reporter to get to the scene shortly after the incident, said the three stones closest to the public path were "splattered" with the powder.

He added that many of the tourists visiting the monument were "slightly bemused".

"Stonehenge managers and security guards are standing by the path," he said.

"I've heard a suggestion that because it is powder paint and the weather is dry and sunny, it may perhaps be removed without lasting damage, but they will need experts to inspect the stone before forming an opinion."

Just Stop Oil said the motivation behind the incident was to demand the next UK government end the extraction and burning of oil, gas and coal by 2030.

A spokesperson for the group said: "Continuing to burn coal, oil and gas will result in the death of millions.

"We have to come together to defend humanity or we risk everything."

Mike Pitts, archaeologist and author of How to Build Stonehenge, said the incident was "potentially quite concerning".

He said: “The monument has been fenced off for decades and the megaliths' surfaces are protected.

"They are sensitive and they are completely covered in prehistoric markings which remain to be fully studied and any surface damage to the stones is hugely concerning.

“A rich garden of life has grow on the megaliths, an exceptional lichen garden has grown. So it’s potentially quite concerning.”

A spokesman for Wiltshire Police said: "We responded to a report that orange paint had been sprayed on some of the stones by two suspects.

"Our enquiries are ongoing and we are working closely with English Heritage."