Le football et ses dérives (côté spectateurs)

 J'avoue, je ne suis jamais allée dans un stade de foot. Je n'ai jamais vu en live ce que cela pouvait donner. Néanmoins, j'ai vu d'autres sports, d'autres ambiances, d'autres moyens d'exprimer les envies, les déceptions, les colères même. Après, ce serait fallacieux que de dire avoir tout vu, car ce n'est pas le cas. néanmoins, je peux tout de même affirmer que ce qui se passe depuis la réouverture des stades est désolant (et je reste polie). Hier, en regardant un peu les chaines de sports, nous sommes tombés sur l'invasion du stade lors du match Auxerre - Saint-Etienne. et voir la foule envahir le stade, lancer des torches et mettre le feu au stade était effrayant. j'ai détesté voir ces images, car je me disais "Tout ça pour une descente en Ligue 2?" Tour ça pour ça? c'est comme si on perdait aux sims ou à un tournoi de e-sport sur Overwatch et que tout le stade se mettait à feu et à sang! 

Alors, j'entends bien, le football est un gros réservoir à fric. Oui, je sais, nous avons les sponsors, nous avons les contrats, nous avons les abonnements des fans et les gens peuvent se sentir floués par le club. J'en conviens. Mais exprimer sa colère ainsi? prendre le risque de blesser les autres, de rendre malade les autres ou dans des cas plus extrêmes de tuer les autres parce que son équipe de foot préférée s'est foiré et à perdue un match? Quand même! c'est ridicule. Il y a toujours eu des hooligans, des ultras violents qui n'attendent qu'une étincelle pour pouvoir se lancer dans la bagarre. mais j'avais l'impression que ça restait exceptionnel. Que les gens pouvaient se contrôler un minimum. Mais j'ai eu tort. Depuis le covid et la réouverture des stades, nous avons vu la multiplication des invasions de terrains, les chansons irrespectueuses (Salah), les bagarres, le non-respect des gestes barrières etc... Mais je reste perplexe. pourquoi autant de colère? pourquoi autant de violence? pourquoi les gens s'énervent ainsi et s'acharnent autant? Je ne comprends pas, mais je suis révoltée et déçue de ce que j'ai vu hier soir. Je ne comprends pas, mais je sais déjà que je n'irai jamais à un match de foot, si c'est pour être témoin de tels débordements. 

Toxic productivity

Here I am again, with my random musings,

We've talked a while ago about the fact that most societies tend to value human lives by their productivity. They have to be productive to be considered either successful or just worthy of being alive. One of the things that bothered me as I grew up, was that people weren't interested in knowing who you genuinely were. It wasn't anymore about your taste in hobbies, your enjoyment of sports, or some -non-productive skills- such as singing, dancing, or the likes. NO. As I grew up, I realized that it was only the job I had. It was the salary I earned. I was the diplomas I earned. Nothing about who I was mattered. Some of my strongest friendships were made without me knowing exactly what type of job my friends did. The question was never asked (but rather, I'd wait for them to talk to me about their job instead), because that never defined a person's value to me.  

However, I found myself in several situations where your "job" as your "identity" and based on what you were doing, you were either dismissed or revered. Then, at my last job, I realized I only had value as an employee/ person by the workload I could handle. The bigger the workload, the more I became visible. It was so much that I ended up carrying half of that company on my back, main husband carried the rest on his. Others didn't care about anything but our productivity, even co-workers only asked questions about "how much work did you do today? could you take some of my own cause I couldn't handle them today? could you show me how you did?" One of my bosses even mistook me for someone else. Ahah, that's how bad things were. 

This led me to wonder why, as a writer, I ended up being frustrated when I wasn't writing "enough". I ended up chastising myself for not being good enough. How could I not be able to write a page a day, at the minimum? How could I need one or more days to rest because I have an art block? Why can't I be like Stephen King who writes books as he breathes? It becomes stressful and in turn, my body becomes sick. When I don't write/ sketch for a while, I feel like a complete failure because I wasn't productive. My value, my worth, suddenly becomes what I can make, which is a toxic way of thinking and very reductive. We are much more than what we can produce. We are much more than our jobs. we are not more worthy because we can work ourselves to death and no less because we can't handle a huge workload. 

Unfortunately, this is something that too many people still believe, and something so ingrained in our mentalities that moving away from this mentality is really hard, but necessary. My best friend, Nate, told me that we have to seek balance. Make sure that our work doesn't devour us and allows for family/ me time, and make sure that we remain careful and focused at work to keep things going. He told me that I shouldn't equate myself to the amount of work I can do and If I needed a few days before working on the book again, then I needed those days to be able to continue that book. That says nothing about who I am as a person or my worth. 

SO yes,  Being productive does give a nice feeling, and I would be a liar if I said I wasn't pleased to see the progress I made with my first draft. however, One should remain careful and not turn productivity into something toxic where we equate productivity with self-value and worth. It would quickly turn anything into a stressful moment and we don't want that.  We don't want that. 

Prayers to the Goddess of Hope

"Goddess of Hope, I pray to thee. 

I do not know who to turn to, but you. 

I know you will listen to me, and I know you will answer my prayers. 

I don't need my wishes to be granted, nor do I believe in fairytales.

All I am asking for is the strength to keep hope. 

All I am asking for is the strength to carry on because I believe in a better tomorrow.

All I am asking for is that you lend me your grace, so I could believe in myself.

I need to have faith in what I will be doing. 

I need to have faith in what I'm chasing after.

Goddess of Hope, I pray to thee. 

Bless me with your golden grace, pink locks, and intense golden gaze.

I beg of thee, I beg for thee, to bring some colors back in my grey world."

A vintage touch (pb) Maids gossip

A vintage touch (pb)  Maids gossip

// All the usual disclaimers! I know that this is going to happen for SURE! 

xxxxxx

Tommy Shelby, the heartthrob Tommy Shelby, was known among the young women of Small Heath, Birmingham as a man you would want to work for. He was extremely selective as to who could cater to his needs and the needs of his child -and now Mary- He would not tolerate any incidents that could harm his boy or put Mary in danger and was known to fire if he felt that they didn't respect their contract. On the other hand, he was known to be a very fair employer and someone whose company was quite pleasant. Of course, by pleasant, the rumours said that he was a very handsome man and most if not all the woman who ever crossed path with him wanted the man. Tommy was a fine man, really he was. He had mesmerizing blue eyes, sharp features and a strong built. He wasn't skinny like most of the men were, nor overly burly. He was the right amount of muscle and the perfect amount of brains. 

Of course, most of the maids expected that their natural beauty or their service could get his attention and they tried to seduce him when Mistress Grace died. It didn't work. Tommy wasn't interested in any of his maids for reasons that were only his own, but could be guessed since he paid hookers to have sex with. He used to, up until John's death and the first night he spent with Miss Mary. Hookers stopped visiting the house and he stopped paying for escorts. Lizzie, however, was perhaps the sole exception since it was notorious that he went to fuck her when he needed quick company. Still, the maids had tried to catch his attention since his wife died, in vain. His aloof personality and his natural charisma kept them on their toes, pining for his attention -for the younger maids-, or hoping he would find a good woman to fill the house with laughter and warmth again. 

Their wish was granted when Mary came to live with Charles and Tommy. She was an unusual woman this one. They couldn't help but notice her voluptuous curves, sometimes comparing her to an ancient greek goddess or perhaps one of those women living away from the continent to countries they heard about. Exotic women with a shade of skin very few had ever seen. Mary's curls, her warm smile, the gentleness of her behaviour and her nurturing nature won the maids over, yes, even those who pined for Tommy since they projected their frustration onto the woman and hoped she would (on behalf of the others) be able to experience that man. It quickly became a habit for the maids to talk and gossip about Master Shelby and Miss Mary.

They noticed, like the rest of Mary and Tommy's entourage, the attraction and genuine connection between the two. They noticed the loving gaze Mary had upon Tommy and they noticed that he was sometimes looking at her when she wasn't looking. It was enough to spark rumours between the maids and even bets. It became their favourite novela with frequents updates, which prompted the maids to observe in silence, and report to the others what they had seen. Tommy didn't leave them indifferent, and while they stayed in their room once the lights went out and they were about to go to bed, the maid who had seen Tommy naked, half-naked or in any situation or state of clothing that could make him look mesmerizing, told the others in great details what she saw, so they could imagine and daydream about him. 

It happened, once, when he walked downstairs, with nothing but his pants on. One of the maid watched from afar, hidden in the darkness and ended up running to her colleagues to gush about the man's strong physique. He was 40, and he looked like he was at his prime. A former soldier, muscular, with tattoos on his skin and a lethal gaze that left more than one of them soaking wet upon seeing him? It happened, when Mary and Tommy had sex for the first time. They weren't loud, they still made some noise which alerted the maids and had one of them quietly walk towards the living room where the pair was having sex, to observe and come back to tell the whole story.  that piqued their interest. That was when the bets started. 

It was a dance, a "will they, won't they" type of storyline, where the curious women would wish and hope that the main characters end up together. It had been a slow burn, a slow burn made of intense yearning from Mary, obvious dismissal from Tommy and an endearing attachement from the young prince, Charles who loved Mary like a second mother. They would talk about the rest of the family, who was supporting this relationship and hoping Tommy would do something about it and they complained to Frances, the head maid about their hopes and disappointments. It was starting to take longer than they wanted and Lizzie Stark was starting to cause trouble much to the maids dismay. Could something help this couple get together? 

They tried to advice Mary, tried to make her spill the beans, but even she was reluctant to admit that she was in love with Tommy. She was reluctant to embrace her feelings and they could understand why. But what they didn't understand was why they had not given into one another when lust and desire had taken over them? The sexual tension was so palpable that it could hurt someone if they weren't careful. The maids were yearning now, for their own release that finally came the day before. It was phenomenal, mostly because they heard everything. They blushed and grinned and giggled upon the sounds of the most passionate love-making they ever heard. Who would have thought that Miss Mary would be so naughty? Who would have thought that Master Shelby would be so sexy? Even with the late Mrs. Shelby there had been no such thing as "passionate" love-making. it was tame. it was convenient. it was sweet and soft and very calm. Nothing like what happened the night before. 

Evelyn, one of the youngest maids was talking to Juliet, another young maid about what they heard last night. They both were not aware of Tommy's looming presence which was listening to them talk. He didn't want to interrupt, for he wanted to have an idea of what was said when he wasn't there. Evelyn, the girl with auburn hair was helping Juliet, the blonde girl clean the dinning room. 

".... Did you hear what happened yesterday?" -Evelyn asked, while she pushed the curtains to the side, allowing the sunlight to enter the room.-

"Aye! I heard. I couldn't avoid it. They were screaming so loud!" -Juliet blushed and bit her bottom lip, betraying her mind that was trying to remember the night before-

"Ahahahah, oh yeah! They were loud yesterday. Everybody heard, I'm sure, but we didn't dare say something." -Evelyn shrugged and shook her head, while she quickly dusted off the tables, shelves of the room-

"Miss Frances would have killed us if we did." -Juliet nodded, as if she was agreeing to herself-

"She would have. Ahahah.. Juliet, do you think Master Shelby came down on her? Is he the kind to lick down there?" -Evelyn blushed hard and Juliet coughed to hide behind it-

"Lick down there? Oh, Evy, you're naughty! I don't know!!!..... but he looks like it."- Juliet fanned herself-

"Mmmhhhhh He must really know what he was doing! she sounded so happy yesterday. I've never heard women scream that loud or moan that loud before. Do you think she reached it?"-Evelyn giggled at her question before she fanned herself and cupped her own cheek-

"Reached what?" -Juliet inquiered, with a light knit of her eyebrows-

"Her climax! I mean.. it's just a rumour, but I heard that women could actually climax just like men do. The man just has to know what he's doing." -She blushed hard and bit her bottom lip.- "I'm sure he knows! he looks like he does. Women wouldn't flock to him if he wasn't a good lover."

"I dunno. Maybe he is. Maybe he isn't. All I know is that I heard Miss Mary, actually let loose. She needed that plumbing done." -She giggled and shook her head- "Aaaah.. she's lucky though. I wish he was doing me instead of her."

"Aaaah... " She sighed, dreaming about Tommy.- "Me too. Master Shelby is really handsome. I could get lost in his blue eyes forever." -She shrugged.- "I heard some of the words he said, He is naughty... I think I like it even more."

"He used to be a gangster after all. Of course, he's a tough guy." -She chuckled and kept cleaning the table- "Do you think it's a one-night-stand? that he won't fuck Miss Mary anymore?"

"OH no no no nono! Please, don't make it be like this! Miss Mary loves him so much. It hurts me on my behalf that he hasn't noticed it just yet. Making love to her was the least he could have done for her.- -She nodded- "But I know she would want more, you know?" -The maid put her hand over her chest-

"More of the relationship or more sex? What would you choose if you were in her shoes?" -inquisitive eyes wanted an answer-

"More of sex! Because frankly, loving a man like Master Shelby requires a lot of strength, and I don't have that strength. I'd rather he fucks me, and he fucks me like he fucked her yesterday than loving him and have my heart broken like Miss Mary." -both girls started to giggle again, they couldn't hide their flustered faces as they were talking about sex, and about their employer's sex life-

"Don't say that! I'm sure he can be happy with her. If he loves her back, they could be very happy. I hope he loves her back. I also hope he would have sex with her again because that was so hooooot! I am still flustered about it." -Juliet bit her bottom lip, while working on the chairs-

"Ah! I knew it! you are thinking about Master Shelby! I'm sure he has a big beautiful cock!" -Evelyn stuck her tongue out-

"Evelyn!!!! Watch your mouth! don't be dirty talking like that! What if Miss Frances heard us?" -Juliet looked around, afraid that the head maid could listen to them or enter the room without warnings-

"Oh, come on. She's busy taking care of Mister Charles. I think.. I think he has a big one and I think that's why Miss Mary was screaming yesterday! It was too much for her to take." -Evelyn laughed and cupped both of her cheeks-

"Or maybe, it was easy for her to take? I wonder.."- She found some compromising stains on the dining tablecloth and grinned to herself -"It started here. they fucked here.. oh they're so naughty!"

"Either way, I would like to hear it some more. It really left me hot and bothered and frustrated. I mean, if I was Miss Mary I would never be able to let him leave the bedroom. or whatever room we're in. I would always want him." -Juliet shrugged and lifted her shoulders-

"Maybe it's the case? Maybe Miss Mary feels like you and won't let him go? unf.... if only I could watch!"

"Evy! go back to cleaning that room. What would you say if he found you talking about him like that? it's soon time for his breakfast, let's hurry!"

And the two maids resumed working on cleaning the room while Tommy smirked to himself, it was just a hint on his lips but he was internally quite smug for what he made Mary do the night before. Bad Mary, Naughty Mary, Sinful Mary. He just wondered what took him so long before he indulged in his desires -well, he knew why.. and he didn't regret taking his time before it happened- before he realized that she would welcome him so easily, so eagerly and that he would want it again. The maids were funny, in their own way, mostly because he had not realized just how much they would be talking about him or caring for his well-being. He wasn't upset, just amused but chose to remain stoic as he cleared his throat and entered the dining room, forcing the maids to focus on their tasks at hand and quickly work with nothing but knowing gazes and lip-bites betraying their hot and bothered mental state. Mary would know, later on, when she would go downstairs, just how much fun she had the night before, was shared by the whole house. 

-TBC-

A vintage touch (pb) : "Shenanigans"

A vintage touch (pb) : "Shenanigans"

// After the earful Lizzie got, she had to come and confront Mary, giving her a fair warning that things were not over. 

xx

Mary was playing with Charles in the garden. She was looking beautiful in a yellow summer dress, light enough to endure the uncanny heat of the day. She ran with the boy who was chasing after her and pretended to be a monster. They both giggled while he tried to catch the woman, running as fast as he could with his little legs. Of course, Mary pretended he was faster and sometimes slowed down so he could grab the skirt of her dress.  Those giggles could be heard from a long distance and each time Lizzie Stark heard them, she felt her heart sink a little further. A few days earlier, Tommy gave Lizzie an earful. He didn't let her speak to him and a Tommy who left no room for discussion was a Tommy that scared the woman. He was seething with rage, frothing at the mouth because he learned the little discussion she had with Mary a while ago and warned her to stop trying to make Mary go or else, his wrath would be one for the book. You didn't fuck with Thomas Shelby, you didn't try to cross him. Lizzie knew and chose to remain silent that day. She let him speak and watched as he left the room and drowned her sorrow in alcohol, but that wouldn't be enough. Lizzie Stark wasn't the type of woman to wait and drink herself to sleep without a fight. It was something he liked about her, he told her a while ago. She had some spunk, she had some nerves and she could stand up to any of the Shelbys. Well, maybe he had forgotten that about Lizzie, but she was about to remind him, why Jon wanted to be with her. 

She couldn't understand why he chose to stay with Mary nor why he thought it was fitting for this newcomer to raising his son. Lizzie had been loyal. She had been there from the very beginning, from before Grace, to after her death. She had been there, comforting the Shelby, giving him her support, and devoting herself to his happiness and she had dreamed of being in Mary's shoes. She had dreamed to be the mother of Tommy's children and wished she was the one who birthed Charles. She had dreamed to be his wife, taking his name, and having a beautiful wedding like Grace had. She wanted to see him smile. She wanted to have Tommy run his fingers through her black hair and look at her tenderly. Yet, she was denied all of it, especially since Mary came into Tommy's life.  Her rage didn't even begin to explain what Lizzie was feeling. She deserved to be with Tommy because of all the women he had in his life, she was the one who understood him the most. He trusted her with his secrets, with his business, with everything that Mary wasn't even aware of, so why? Why did he choose this woman? Why did he accept to keep her in his home? It should have been her. She thought about it but it always led to the same conclusion. She was the one he should have chosen. She was the one who should have shared his bed. 

Did he fuck Mary? That, she couldn't know. Tommy was hard to read and even her experience in the matter couldn't help her find if he had sex with mary or not. Polly knew, but Polly was fond of the young woman and would not tell Lizzie the truth. Perhaps they had not, and perhaps it wasn't too late to plant another seed of doubt in Mary's mind. She took a deep breath as she noticed the voluptuous woman play with the young child and rubbed her arms to give herself some strength. She came to see Tommy and give him her own piece. She had to let him know that she wasn't a pushover and wouldn't take his "orders" really well. He couldn't come and ask her to ignore her very instincts and deny her the right to protect the family. the Shelbys were her family, whether Tommy wanted it or not and she was part of the family. Lizzie's eyes looked at Mary's stupidly beautiful face and she snarled a little bit. She had the face of an angel, her kindness shone through her soft features and that bothered Lizzie. Tommy would be attracted to a face like hers. She was gentle, she was soft and it was easy to read on her face. 

"Lizzie!" -Mary stopped playing with Charles, who looked at Lizzie and waved at her- "Hello."

"Hello, Mary." -She replied with a tight smile and a cold voice. Her eyes drifted from Mary's face to her cleavage. Of course, she would have large breasts. Of course, she would look like those ancient greek divinities that were opulence-made flesh. Lizzie couldn't help but sneer at the conclusion that a woman this fat couldn't possibly satisfy Tommy in bed. He wouldn't know how to handle her. She could crush him with those thunder thighs and that big ass. Yes, so there was nothing to be afraid of. Mary wasn't Tommy's taste in women. Yet....she wasn't sure.- "Is Tommy here? I have an urgent matter to talk about with him."

"He isn't here. He's out of the city, for business purposes." -She narrowed her gaze and grabbed the young Charles she carried in her arms.- "Perhaps, you have a message I can give to him when he comes back?"

"He's not here..." -She didn't know he would be out of town. For a secretary, there were still things he kept from her.- "Fine. I would like to talk to you for a short while." -She glanced at Charles- "Without the boy because our conversation might be too much for his ears." -Mary felt her heart beat faster in her ribcage, but she nodded-

"Alright. Follow me inside then and wait for me in the living room. I will give Charles to Frances and would come back to you." -Lizzie nodded and sat on a comfortable chair in the living room.-

Mary waited a few minutes before she opened the living room door. She could feel her heart beating faster against her ribcage, almost making her nauseous. Lizzie hated her guts, she didn't need to be a genius to notice her jealousy. From the moment she came to live with Tommy and Charles, Miss Stark had always been distant and showed disdain towards the woman. At first, she thought it was hostility because she was a foreigner, then she thought it had something to do with her ancestry, but it quickly became clear, that she hated the fact Tommy gave her some attention. The snide comments, the "Virgin Mary" she said an insane amount of time was enough to indicate her resentment towards the young woman. Polly mentioned that Lizzie had always wanted to become a Shelby and since she couldn't have Jon, she set her eyes on Tommy, hoping he could make her an honest woman someday. Mary always believed that Lizzie idealized Thomas Shelby. She only saw what she wanted to see from him. It was easy to spot the heartbreak she suffered from, the life she lived in shame because of her past job, and the drunken stupors that led to poor decisions. 

Lizzie was suffering and she thought that Tommy could save her from her awful past, and make her a new woman. He already did by turning her into a secretary and giving her an honest job. He could do it again by giving her his name, an honest family, and genuine affection. It didn't happen, it couldn't happen since Mary was in the way and ever since she realized that the two of them might come closer, she'd tried to separate the two of them. the sooner, the better. Mary was aware. It nearly worked when she sat with her to tell her that Tommy had sex with her just a week before her birthday and that he didn't remember it. Lizzie almost motivated Mary to leave that house, because of the heartbreak she felt upon learning that information. It nearly worked, but Lizzie didn't know Mary and her stubborn ass. She didn't know the resilience of the young woman. She didn't know it would backfire on her and Tommy's earful was enough for Lizzie to feel truly threatened. Tommy cared about Mary, he made it clear. He cared about that woman and Lizzie realized that she was slowly becoming less of a priority for the Shelby.  She had lit a cigarette while waiting for Mary to enter the living room and blew her smoke when Mary entered the room. 

"I am all ears, Lizzie."

"Oh, Like you were last time? I am guessing that you ran to Tommy to talk about our little conversation? You damn rat!" -She mumbled the end of her conversation, making Mary furrow her brows. She crossed her arms and walked towards the other chair, sitting and crossing her legs.-

"I'm not responsible for whatever Tommy decides to do." -She shrugged and chewed her bottom lip.Lizzie inhaled some smoke before she blew it away from Mary's face.-

"I don't understand what you are doing here, what you are doing with Tommy. You speak as if you were so close to him" -she snarled-

"And I am close to him, indeed. What are you trying to say here, Lizzie? That I can't be close to him? That he can't be honest with me?" -She lifted an eyebrow.-

"Tommy is a man of many secrets. He is only close to himself." -Lizzie shrugged and puffed some smoke to her face.- "He will never let you in, Mary. He will never let you in..." -She smoked again and blew some smoke up in the air-

"And how can you be so sure of that?" -Mary narrowed her gaze and chewed her inner cheek.-

"I know Tommy.  I /fucked/ Tommy.  He is  a complex man and I am not sure you grasp the entirety of his character." -She sneered before she crossed her arms on her waist.- "Before you know, he's already fucking somebody else. Before you know, you're already attached to him but he can't be attached to you, he never is. I'm sure that even Grace didn't know everything!" -She chuckled- "So, if she couldn't, how could you? Virgin Mary? How could you keep his attention? He'd toy with you, have his fun and when he gets bored of fucking you... if he does fuck you... then he'll just go fuck someone else, perhaps me, since he always comes back to me." -She grinned widely-

"You told me lies, why?" -Lizzie took another puff and shook her head-

"Those weren't /lies/. He didn't know about your birthday. He had sex with me. Grace is the love of his life and, trust me, I know something or two about it." -She said, blowing her smoke to Mary's face.-

"You keep telling me about Grace as if  I should feel something about it. Lizzie, you seem to forget that /I/ was there when he married Grace and /I/ was there when she got killed. I knew Grace. She's part of his life, part of his past and she is the mother of his child. I wasn't jealous of Grace when she was alive and I certainly won't be jealous of her memory, now that she's dead!"

"But you're trying to replace her! Do you think I don't see you? You live here! You raise his son! It's unbelievable! He lets you stay here and act as a surrogate mother for his child!" -She said, shrugging at her own words and speaking with a high-pitched tone before she took another puff of her cigarette.-Mary closed her eyes, feeling her cold anger slowly rise. Tommy promised he would handle it, and he did. He spoke to Lizzie and she was supposed to stop trying to come after Mary, yet here they were. nothing had changed and she even attacked her with her venomous words. Mary remained calm but looked at Lizzie with a frown on her face. She rubbed her palms against the soft fabric of her dress and tilted her head to the side.- "Don't look at me like that. I hate when you're looking at me with those eyes full of judgment.-

"I am not judging you. However, I do not like the idea of you coming to my house, spitting your venom in my face, or disobeying Tommy's orders. He asked you to stop coming at me and stop your shenanigans. Yet, here you are, in my house, spitting venom at me." -That shocked Lizzie.-

She did not expect Mary to have such a strong comeback. She hoped that the young woman would react like she did the first time they talked together. With panic overwhelming her and tears at  ready to fall. This Mary was different, more assertive, more confident. Mary's face was hard to read this time, stern, calm, yet hard to decipher. Lizzie didn't know if the young woman was upset, or if she was actually not taking her seriously. Her hand shook, and she emptied the ash at the tip of her cigarette into the ashtray that was in front of her, on the small table of the living room.

" /your/ house?" -She lifted a brow in disbelief. Mary didn't react to her and simply stared at the woman. "/Your house? How dare you?! This is /not/ your house. It's Tommy's and it was Grace's. This house, isn't yours and will never be."

"Lizzie.." -She took a deep breath again, rubbing her palms against the fabric of her dress.- "What exactly is it that you want to tell me? Surely, you're not just here to quip about my situation. You're here because you have grievances."

"Ah.." -Lizzie inhaled some smoke, her eyes shooting silver bullets at the woman in front of her. SHe spoke with such a soft voice that it irritated Lizzie to no end. SHe hated Mary, that was plain for everyone to see, but she was upset about Tommy's choice to keep that woman next to him. Her eyes filled with unshed tears and she looked away from Mary.- "How rich! Really... You're going to lecture me, /Me/! Lizzie fucking Stark? Mary, I don't know what they taught you at that orphanage of yours, but you shouldn't mess with people like me. You came to my territory, you settled in that house, pretending to be perfect, to be a saint when you and I both know that you are nothing but a slut. You don't care about Tommy. you only care about his fame, his money, his power. You don't care about him, like I cared about him. Like I still care about him. You don't! And he will see it soon enough." -She took another puff of her cigarette.-

Mary was hurt but she tried her best not to show it. Lizzie had a knack at finding the words that would always end up hurting the most. She knew that  this situation was quickly getting out of hand and that Lizzie threw her frustration at her face because it was the easiest thing to do. Tommy was an adult and he made his choice. He chose to keep Mary around, to scold Lizzie for trying to make her leave and while that wasn't explicit, Mary knew that he did it because he wanted her near him. He couldn't bear the idea of seeing her leave his house and the life they've been making there. They had an obvious connection, one that was noticed by every member of the Shelby family. Lizzie might have been in love with Tommy -and again, everyone knew-, He didn't share her feelings and she couldn't make him fall in love with her. It was cruel, and Mary could understand Lizzie's despair, but she couldn't allow the woman  to disrespect her, or hurt her feelings like she did the first time. Her green eyes set upon the slender woman and she gave her a condescending smile, this time, on purpose. 

"You think you love him? You think, you want him to be happy? you think... you want to make sure that when he has a nightmare, you can soothe him? I don't think you do. What I think is that when you look at Tommy, you see a way out. You see, a man who could make you proper. You see, his power. You see his fame. You see his wealth. All of this, is appealing to you.  But if you truly loved him, you would have respected his choice. He didn't choose /you/ Lizzie. He doesn't love /you/, Lizzie. If you truly loved him, you would have let him try to have his happy ending instead of tyring to force destiny."

That earned her a slap. Lizzie stood up swiftly, outraged by Mary's words. It felt like a stab in her heart, a truth she refused to see. A truth that tore her soul apart. Mary was right, at least, about the fact Tommy didn't love her and that was unfair, that was so fucking unfair. she couldn't help herself, but since she felt humiliated, she slapped the woman's face, harder than she intended. The slap was so hard, it threw Mary on her side and onto the couch. it made her nose bleed and marked her light black skin. That was something that felt both satisfying, and curious as Lizzie had never seen a black woman mark that much, and she didn't expect to see the red print of her hand across Mary's face. Her chest was heaving up and  down at a faster pace, her eyes were staring at Mary with fire in them and  her hand was shaking. Mary took her time to sit better on the couch. She was shocked that Lizzie went as far as hitting her. She put her hand under her face, just so she could watch her blood drip onto her palms. 

"..." -Lizzie looked at her, still breathing hard and worried about Mary.

"I hope it  was worth it, Lizzie." -Mary's voice which was usually calm and sweet, became colder. Her soft gaze had turned colder and Lizzie swallowed a lump.- "I hope it quenched your thirst and gave you what you wanted. This slap would be the first and the last you will ever give me." -She said, standing up and walking towaards the bar, to grab a piece of dry and clean cloth she'd use to wipe the blood off of her nose. I understand that you hate me. I understand why you're afraid of me and you should be."She then pointed at the door. "Tommy won't come back until later today. Perhaps you'd want to wait for him?"

"N.. No. I have nothing to say to him anymore. I- I will leave." -She was flustered, confused, and now worried about Tommy's reaction but was too proud to ask Mary to keep it between the two of them. Tommy would be made aware that she didn't obey his orders and he would be upset -rightfully so-. "I apologize for the slap. I shouldn't have done that." -She acknowledged as she walked back and grabbed her bag- "I will.. I'm going." -She said, running away from the living room and outside of the property.-

Mary took a deep breath and rushed to close the doors behind her. She then put her hand on her lips, choking on the tears she held back from the slap she'd just gotten.  Her cheek was still burning from the slap and  the tears kept rolling down her cheeks. She would get through this, she wasn't afraid of Lizzie, however, the brunette wasn't always in the wrong. Tommy Shelby was a very complex man, one who might never love her the way she wished to be. Tommy did go back to her and other hookers after Grace died, and nothing could stop him from doing it again. Nothing could stop him from getting bored of her and finding comfort in someone else. Mary didn't need Lizzie to remind her of her fears. She was wary ever since her first marriage was a disaster. She was wary about finding out the many secrets Tommy kept from her, secrets which could involve seeing May, or fucking Lizzie. Secrets, which could involve him seeking comfort and company in her, but nothing deeper. 

Perhaps what she felt that night was nothing but projections, perhaps, he didn't really mean it when he said she was his or when he let her claim him as hers. Perhaps she was wrong in loving him but she didn't care much. She loved Tommy and if his happiness didn't lie within her, then she would accept it. She would accept it.. but that slap was still hurting and the words Lizzie said still hurt her and it wouldn't be until her tears had dried that the young woman would stand back up and would keep a strong facade. Loving Tommy wasn't easy, and she knew there would be some heart aches... there would be some heartbreaks, but she loved him. what could she do about it? 

headcanon addiction and coping mechanism

addictions and coping mechanism

B : Bäahal: She drinks a lot. That’s the way she copes. She dances as well when she’s very nervous and doesn’t know how to deal with it. She also spends time with pets, because animals do help her calm down as well.

M ! W: Mary TVD: She drinks wine, has sex, and also helps people because it soothes her pain (the one due to her curse). She had Elijah with whom she could sporadically talk

M: Mary drinks. She had sex and alcohol to cope with the pain of being a teenage bride, a teenage mother of a dead child. She usually copes by taking care of others.

V: Viserys used to get high on drugs or drunk before he met Kyra. His friends were a really bad influence on him and always tried to keep him messed up so they could use him as they wish. He numbed his pain through substance abuse and sex. Meaningless sex, sex he didn’t even like after a while. It was just a way for him to release some tension. With Kyra, things are going to change. He’s sobered now, and he is talking openly.

headcanon: Anger

Anger

B: Bäahal doesn’t get angry. Not really. She could shout at people or sulk, but she doesn’t really express anger. It’s actually something that needs to be worked on. She cries a lot, however, and perhaps that is the way she found to release her intense emotions. She’s usually very disappointed and sad rather than angry.

M ! W: Mary IS anger incarnate. She’s been angry from the moment she lost her family to Klaus’ rampage. She remained angry when her coven cursed her because she felt it wasn’t fair. Her anger causes her pain, and trying to reign it in, also causes her pain. So please, and helping people, actually help her soothe her body and soul and feel less pain.

M: Mary doesn’t really show her anger with words. However, when she is angry, she will give you the silent treatment, the angry/ shocked gaze full of judgment, and would put some distance between you and her. (I.e; physically she’d take steps back. Or she’d call you by your last name)

V: Viserys is unpredictable. He can go from 0 to 100 in a blink of an eye. His anger is usually hot and sudden, and he could be very nice and smiling and the next second, he could stab a guy who looks at Kyra the wrong way. He is trying to learn how to deal with his angry fits and has slowly started to improve. But he could still get angry enough to break a guy’s face.

headcanon: Death

B: Bäahal doesn’t want to die anymore. At the beginning of the Long Night, she wanted to die an honorable death and was ready to die for her sister. Her encounter with Jaime changed the way she perceived death. She grew out of her death-seeking wish and became more and more grounded. She fell in love with Jaime and now doesn’t want to die or to let him die. She’s been traumatized by Death. (her mother, Viserion, etc..) and she doesn’t want to lose anyone else.

M! Witch: She is a healer. Despite the traumas, she had to face (most likely the slaughter of her family, and the death of her coven), Mary wants to heal others. Her immortality actually changed her perspective on life and death. Life is even more precious to her, and she would do her best to protect the living and honor the dead. She doesn’t want Klaus to die, perhaps even more than she expected to feel. Klaus is her kin, and she would fight for him.

M: Mary doesn’t want to die. She doesn’t want any of the people she loves, to die. She isn’t a suicidal character. However, people around her tend to die and she’s very worried about it. She lost her child at birth; she lost her husband to murder, and she doesn’t want to lose Tommy (and the rest of his family). John’s death truly hurt her, and she hasn’t recovered from it just yet.

modern Bäahal never wanted to die. however, she sometimes felt she shouldn't have existed because her life caused trouble. (she is changing that way of thinking thanks to both Jaime and Kyra)

V: Viserys was a daredevil. He’d usually try to live an extreme life, walking a fine line between life and death. He wanted to numb his pain but indulged in very extreme activities. The death of his mother, father, and brother did a number on him and he doesn’t want to lose anyone else. Since meeting Kyra, he’s trying to sober up and stop actively trying to kill himself with his dangerous lifestyle.

headcanon: sex

B: Bäahal: welp! She knows her stuff around sex. She’s mastered the art of pleasing a man but has never actually felt true pleasure before. The body felt good, but the soul never did -until she connected with Jaime- Jaime turned sex into more than just bodies bumping into each other. Jaime taught her how to make love, how to enjoy a true communion of body, heart, and soul, and turned this experience into something bigger, better, and grandiose. Bäahal loves sex, she loves it with Jaime, and she is so in touch with her sexuality that she wouldn’t mind sharing a passionate moment with Jaime, letting him know she wants to fuck him, or going and try to get it from him.

M ! W: Mary is touch starved. She had to find sexual gratification on her own. Masturbation helped; magic enhanced it. But a finger isn’t enough, magic isn’t enough, magic doesn’t compensate for another body’s touch, sentences, taste. She was rusty, but Klaus reignited the fire inside her, and had so much fun having sex with him. The witch loves sex, perhaps a lot more than she lets on. She is dedicated to her lover’s pleasure, she has her own set of kinks (ahem, ahem biting, everyone?) and she’s very vocal about what she wants and how she wants it. Sex has meaning for her, she doesn’t have sex with strangers. She only has it with people she has a connection to. Which means that she feels connected to Klaus and she considers him more than just a body to fuck. He is way more than just a body to fuck. He knows it! C’mon.

M: Mary loves sex. It’s something she can’t do without. She knows her body; she knows what she wants and needs. She’s very vocal -but only when she’s teased into letting go of her boundaries-. She knows how to please a man, and she has a strong appetite. Very few men could handle her, but Tommy does. Tommy can. Tommy would. She has a sensitive skin and she’s quite the naughty girl. She doesn’t mind a little kink here and there and would definitely do her best to drive Tommy crazy. For her, sex is a way to communicate with the other and depending on the person she’s having sex with, it could either be self-serving (what happened before) or an actual connection (with Tommy). Her affection, her care, and her love for him are communicated through sex and Tommy would know all the things she wants to say but doesn’t say. She is intense, she is demanding, and she is a tease.

V: Viserys had always used sex as a coping mechanism. They were just bodies he sued to release tension, women he fucked only to feel some superficial company, but he never actually loved it. He never actually cared about them (I mean, he cared about their pleasure and well-being, but he didn’t even remember their names afterward, except for one or two recurring on/off girlfriends with whom he had sex) He enjoys sex. He enjoys the warmth of Kyra’s body, the shape, the curves, and the taste. He loves everything about her, and he actually feels pleasure in doing so. He’s addicted to her, to how she is, to what she loves, and how she sounds. Sex is now more than just a matter of tension release. Sex is now a conversation between the two of them. Sex is a way he uses to show her his love, show her his adoration. It’s his way of saying “I love you.” Without using words to do so.

Headcanons: Love

B: Bäahal had discovered love with Jaime. She knew about familial love (thanks to her mother) but she had never felt comfortable near a man. She had never felt anything special upon sleeping with men who only used her. She had never wanted to spend a complete night next to a stranger. She didn’t trust men. She didn’t like them. Until Jaime came into her life. Jaime... opened something inside of her, something that made her fall in love with him. She saw he was a good man. She saw he was a kind man, a loving man who was doing everything to help his family and loved ones. She fell in love with the qualities that made Jaime who he was, qualities he doesn’t see in himself just yet. That love can make her move mountains. (modern! Bäahal), she knew love, but her first love broke her heart. She then tried to find companionship and actual care and love in others (and all the wrong places) Meeting Jaime actually changed everything for her and she discovered a love that didn’t know boundaries and limits, a love so powerful that it motivates her to improve her life and seek happiness, but this time, in the good places.

M ! W: Mary has known love. She tried to build relationships before she was cursed but it didn’t lead to anything. However, since her curse and self-imposed solitude, the witch had not loved anyone, nor been in contact with people (save for Elijah). She avoided people, to avoid heartbreak. She avoided love to protect her heart, especially after realizing that she wasn’t in love with Elijah but was craving company. Any company. With Klaus, she’s grown feelings for him. She enjoys his company, and she has his best interest in mind. She wants to help him and would. He can count on her for she would always listen to him, comfort him, flirt with him, and give him her heart. However, she still tries to protect her heart from being broken by the hybrid.

M: Mary has never been in love until she met Tommy. She had never been loved before, not by her mother (her father never knew about her, before the war), she had lost her son and the nuns whipped her to blood. Her husband never loved her, and he never protected her, never showed her comfort, love, and sweetness. She only saw her value as someone who could be used, or valuable. With Tommy and his family, she’s feeling something different. She discovered what True love was and her strong desire to be loyal, caring, loving, and nurturing to the man she loved. He treats her differently and she now has someone who cares for her. With Tommy, she can see a second chance at being happy, with someone who truly loves her and who considers her family. It’s something she’s never had before, and she considers it very precious. Tommy is her everything and he would get sides of her that nobody else knows. He would be loved in ways he’d never before. He is her everything and his happiness is her main goal.

V: Viserys had never been in love with someone before Kyra. He usually had sex with people or got drunk at night with strangers and some of his friends, but he’d never fallen in love with someone. He loves deeply. He feels so much and for a while, he kept it to himself until Kyra came into his life. He is extremely loyal, extremely caring, and sweet. When he loves someone, he gives his all and he tries to make sure that she is comfortable, loved, and taken care of. He is extremely proud of his girl and would not hesitate to show her off. He is very possessive, however, and would not want other people to try and get into his girl’s undies. He trusts his loved one and loves to cook something for her. Right now, he delights in teaching Kyra how to cook.

Doya: Healers

Doya: Healers 

//well, I can't get enough of them. Here's a little sweet moment for these two. 

xxx

A hunter's life was a lonely life. It was a life made of sacrifices, loss, and fear. It was a life you spent killing creatures, protecting people, and expecting Death to embrace you at any moment. A hunter's life was spent trying to atone for sins you committed, and those you were about to commit. Oh, Dean knew quite a deal about it. He knew quite a deal about pain, despair, loss, and sacrifices. He knew and if he had not been Chuck's favorite human, he probably would have died a long time ago. If he had not met Oya, he would have been dead by now, or perhaps, he would have lived an empty life. Dean's world was grey and painful, but since he met Oya, everything changed. She saved him. He told her so a while ago. If it wasn't for her kindness and her love, Dean would have been lost. If it wasn't for her dedication to him, and her desire to make him see what she saw in him, Dean would have been lost. Oya came, she showed him that he was worthy of being loved, that he could build a life for himself despite the horrors this world had to offer. Oya loved him through thick and thin, and he loved her all the same. They were hunters, and their lives were spent soaked with blood and with lives taken to protect other lives, but they were able to have something else, something more, something real.

They were healers. Dean and Oya found each other when they were at their worst. They were able to recognize their kin in each other. They were healers because after they lost everything, they were able to move forward and build something. It took its time, countless nights, and a dash of hope, but Oya and Dean were able to make a home for themselves. They manage to fill their empty hearts with love. They were able to become a family, no matter what. She lost a family when the Asanbosam slaughtered them, but she gained a new one with Team Free Will. A lover, and two brothers. Together, they were able to find something good with life, and renewed energy to fight for it. Together, they managed to soften their rough angles, they welcome the idea of them being able to find their happiness in the rubble of this world. They did it. 

They were healers. Together, despite what Fate had for them in-store, they were able to make it lie and change their future. Together, they were able to finally start to live their lives. It wasn't just brothers to return to. It wasn't just a mission after another mission after another mission. It was a home he could return to. It was blind trust. It was a desire to see the other grow and flourish. It was the little things, from her ugly aprons to Dean cooking something for her. It was the way their bodies felt right against the other. It was the quieter nights -for him-, and the less intense nightmares -for her-. It was them being each other's last thoughts before they fell asleep or during critical moments. It was the tears they shed for one another, the joy they let explode, and the fact they didn't mind scars, tears, blood, and everything else from the other. 

It was love. 

It was life. 

And finally, after so long, they were able to make a warm home for themselves in this cold world.

A home in each other's hearts. 

A heart they shared. 

A heart... Their heart. 

-TBC-

Modern Got: Freedom and excess

 // Just a little random moment before her (attempted) assault. 

xxxxx

Bâahal was wearing lovely white laced lingerie. It was a g-string body that complimented her curves very well. She wore a purple kimono that barely covered her plump ass and she knew it made her look good. She was blasting rock music in her hotel room and dancing to it, shaking her head while stomping her foot on the floor. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, enjoying how sexy she looked in that new gear. She ran her hand through her silky locks to push them off of her face and grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels, to dance with, to drink from, to enjoy her life in her hotel room. There was something exciting in seeing oneself acting freely, with very few if not zero limitations to how sexy one could be. Bäahal was a gorgeous woman -and it wasn't even close to how beautiful she was-.  and she wanted to act slutty that night. She kept dancing, towards the bed, where her phone was, and grabbed it. 

What would she do? She was in such a mood because of Jaime Fucking Lannister. He was not around and they had not seen each other for a while, which was frustrating the young woman more than she wanted to admit. She tilted her head and let her silver hair fall onto her chest. Her purple eyes had that mischievous gleam on for her mind was set. She would tease her Golden Lion. She would send him pictures of her solo session in her hotel room. Bäahal knew he would appreciate seeing those pictures, so she didn't hesitate and started to snap some. It would serve him right for making her wait for him for so long. It would serve him right, to be titillated and be unable to act upon the feelings he might have at the moment. Bäahal kept taking pictures of her gorgeous body from all the angles she could find, and she really let go, drinking in some pictures,  showing bits and pieces of her fine lingerie. 

She was feeling hot, maybe hotter than what was reasonable. It had been a while since she'd started to see the Lannister. A couple months now, Not enough for it to be a year, but more than 6 months.  It'd been a while since the two of them got together and while they weren't officially "together", she considered Jaime like her boyfriend. He was her boyfriend. He was the man who was turning her on with just the way he said her name. He was the man she wanted to spend her life with. It was not just blind passion, no, if it were, they wouldn't have been working well together. Their family feud would have driven them apart from one another. Their family would have tried to break them apart but they didn't succeed in doing so. This relationship was for real, Bäahal was for real. She fell in love with Jaime and she would make him feel like a million dollars. 

She kept dancing and snapped pictures before she lay on her bed. Her silver hair was crowning her face, and she started to feel hot and bothered. She was craving Jaime and the thought wouldn't leave her mind. instead, the young heiress started to indulge in some self-pleasure. Her hands roamed over her perfect curves, teasing her body, exposing some of her flesh while snapping some pictures. She would send Jaime most of them when he would expect it the least. He would see what he was missing by working his stupid job at his stupid company. Bäahal didn't care, at least, not when she was this turned on by the idea of having him open the door, aroused and ready to fuck her after all the tease she'd done. 

There was certain freedom she had, freedom she hadn't felt for a long while. there was something she could do with the Golden Lion. He welcomed her the way she was. She was playful, she was kind, she was wild and all of her sides were welcomed with a joy she had never seen before. Even with her ex-boyfriend, Elias, she couldn't be free. She had to cater to his needs and make sure she didn't upset him for acting differently or for being extra. Was she really happy with him, or was she blinded by the fact he loved her, the unloveable child of Aerys II? Perhaps, it was a little bit of both. She wasn't experienced and she wasn't able to correctly handle her emotions. He belonged to the past, the present was much better and her heart soared upon looking at the dozens of pictures she had just taken. 

She giggled while she texted Jaime, letting him know that he was missing out. He could have joined her in her hotel room. He should have joined her that night when she was needing him the most and wished he was there. Since he wasn't, she chose to punish him by giving him appetizers. He replied to her, quickly bantering with the young woman while he was still trying to end a very long and boring meeting. He missed her, he craved her and wanted to see her but that would have to wait. That would have to wait. Before he knew it, she sent him the slew of lewd pictures she'd taken moments earlier. The sight alone almost made Jaime spill his drink and he had to look away to keep his attention on the meeting. She was terrible. She was freedom and excess! She was his Firecracker and he wanted to join her. 

-TBC-

Regular GoT: Dancing to the gods

 // My poor darling needs a me-time. so dancing she is going to do.

XXXX

Jaime wasn't gone, and the princess felt grateful to the gods for the opportunity she had to spend some more time with him. The hand of the queen, Tyrion Lannister, managed to give her five minutes in her room, allowing the couple to hug each other after spending many weeks away from one another. Five minutes were nothing but a blink of an eye for the silver-haired princess, but she'd rather have them than nothing.  In this short time, the princess had been able to hold Jaime in her arms, but she didn't kiss him, despite the desire to do so. How could she? That kiss would probably haunt her if Jaime didn't survive. That kiss would leave a bitter taste in her mouth, for it would remind her that it was the last. She opted out of it, wishing to give them legitimacy within the walls of the Red Keep.  A hug meant more to them, forehead against forehead spoke to them more than words, for that was their love language. 

Since then, she was expecting her beloved to leave at any moment. It kept her on her toes and she couldn't help but try to find Jaime again, see him, and talk to him. She wanted to profess her love for him in a way that would not leave his mind. Something that would mean more than words, but given how limited their encounters were and how they could not display their affection in public, without the permission of the queen, Bäahal had to be a little more creative. She knew that when the sun was slowly starting to set, Jaime would take a break from his training and would take a walk. A young servant came to Jaime to let him know that he was expected to walk by the garden because someone was waiting for him there. He could care less about the garden, but since he knew the princess enjoyed going there, he took a liking to walk through the garden. She was waiting for him, dressed in a dancer's attire, which caught his attention. 

Her midsection was exposed, showing off a toned belly and she was wearing a skirt that exposed her legs. It was a very revealing outfit, which contrasted with the veil she had on her head that only allowed for the purple eyes of Bäahal to be seen. It took Jaime's breath away, the vision of such a divine woman who seemed to have been waiting for him. She waved quietly before she turned to the servant that was standing near her and the guards who followed her every step. The servant cleared her throat and started to clap her hands, setting a rhythm the princess started to follow.  Jaime stood still, his heart racing in his ribcage as he had never seen Bäahal actually dance. 

He knew her and realized that she had set him up so he could witness one of her dances. The song was sung in old valerian, and Jaime recognized it after a few lines. It was a love song, a prayer to the gods to ensure the well-being of the dancer's lover.  Jaime cleared his throat, and quickly looked for a bench to sit on once found, he walked towards it to have a seat and watched respectfully the show. Bäahal didn't say anything, instead, she kept dancing. She was gracious, she was fast, she was flexible and she was so beautiful while dancing that Jaime couldn't take his eyes off of her. She had something sensual about her, something he couldn't quite place. It probably was the outfit she was wearing, or maybe it was the intensity with which she was staring at him. 

He couldn't see her face, but her eyes spoke more than words could. She loved him. She feared for his life. She trusted him. She didn't want him to leave, yet she respected his decision to go. She loved him. She loved /him/. The formerly known "Jewel of Astapor" who was driving men wild with her beauty, who had bards sing songs in her honor, and who was slowly becoming popular among the people... This woman... This woman had chosen him and she was dancing for him in the garden she loved so much. The Lannister watched her and couldn't stop smiling as he enjoyed the show. It was a prayer after all, and Bäahal meant every step, every arabesque, every head swing to the gods, old and new. 

She ended it on her knees and hands up in the air, taking a submissive pose to entice the gods to grant her request to protect Jaime's life and return him safely to her. Jaime watched her chest heave up and down before she yanked her head back and put both hands on her chest. He applauded quietly, fighting the urge to run to her and pull her into a kiss. He had to hold back and bit his inner cheek as he wanted to remain still. She let her eyes set upon his face one last time and nodded quietly.  He returned her nod, letting her know that he understood she was dancing for him before he watched her stand back up and return to her servant who raved about the dance she'd just done. She made enough noise and took up so much space, that nobody noticed Jaime quietly exit the garden to return to his daily routine. They didn't touch each other, they didn't even speak to each other, but by dancing, Bäahal gave him the most beautiful gift. A testament to her love for him. That motivated the knight to return to her.  He would. 

He would.

-TBC- 

chronicles of the primeval gods: Life and Death of Ishtar: Earth-walker

// Ishtar was making himself known. SO I had to let him speak

xxx

Ishtar couldn't bear to stay hidden in the Prime garden. Gaea hadn't responded to her children's invite and had not spoken to them since, so he decided to visit Earth. Ishtar didn't mind Earth, if anything he enjoyed the place for he was at his most powerful. War was a human thing. From the moment they were conceived, humans went to war. Their deaths were tributes to the god of war, and their blood was payment for the god's favors. Ishtar was the most comfortable among humans, but he couldn't hide his heartache while walking the mortal realm. He remembered the places he'd been with Elpis. He'd remembered the good moments spent with his sister. He remembered her smile, of all of her features, it was her smile he was missing the most, the way she was looking at him with her doe-eyes wide open. He remembered the warmth of her arms around his waist when she hugged him, the delicious smell of her hair that always made him want to put his nose in her massive pink curtain of locks. He missed Elpis. He missed the good old times, well, maybe not all of it, but he certainly missed his sister. 

He was still plagued with the allucinations of both the Sin and his sister. They were taunting him at night, Pride with his devouring ambition and claim on his goddess, and with Elpis reminding Ishtar of his betrayal and twisting the knife of his denied romance with her. Any man would have been driven mad by such visions. Any man would have been forthing at the mouth with a strong desire of revenge or perhaps would be overwhelmed with guilt. Any man would have been.. but ishtar was no man. He was the  Primeval God of War. Passion, ambition and strong emotions fueled his anger for blood. His guilt motivated him more than he expected it to. Ishtar hated to feel his heart being broken in waves. His heartbreak fueled the urge to make it stop. Elpis would come, and their confrontation would lead to her death. She would be the one to die, regardless of the powers she might have. She would be the one to fall at the end of his blade and she would be the one to ask for forgiveness. 

Her actions were foolish, self-centered and because she chose to love an abomination instead of him, Isthar believed that she had to be punished for it.  His ego swallowed his guilt, which ended up lingering as a daily reminder of what he had lost and what he could never recover. he chose to clear his mind by coming to the very place that could give him the upper-hand and curiously enough, some respite. His black eyes observed as humans were carelessly living their short lives. It was intriguing to see these creatures take offense for the slightest mistake or error of judgement. It was intriguing to see them make irrational decisions and start wars over something as petty and unpredictable as Love. Their lives were nothing in the eyes of the god, not even a blink of an eye, yet, they lived with such an intensity he couldn't pretend not to be able to feel it. He understood why his mother loved them so much and why his sister enjoyed going to the Mortal Realm. 

There was a sense of peace. At least, his thoughts were more organized and he was able to focus on what he wanted to do here. He would influence humans for his own entertainment, provoke a war somewhere in the world just to calm his nerves, and he would look for his mother. Gaea knew Elpis was coming and she knew her daughter would kill her. There was no reason left for her to stay hidden on Earth. Elpis was in the same place, gaining strength and probably ready to attack her mother and they had no ways to know where she was or who she would strike first. The sensible idea would be to first attack their pantheon and then kill Gaea, but they could also do it the other way round. What if Gaea was killed first and Elpis took her powers? Ishtar knew that she was Hope and Light, but he also knew of her destructive powers. She wiped out the Sumerian Pantheon and she could easily wipe out their own pantheon, especially if she was powered up with Gaea's essence. 

He had to find his mother, as fast as possible, and convince her to come with him to their pantheon. At least, with everyone at the same place, they could have a chance to kill Elpis and unmake the Sin. Yet, the last time he saw his mother, she was less than thrilled to welcome him, and she had her reasons. After all, Ishtar was the murderer of her husband. He was the one who stole the crown and his father's essence to become the new All-father. Ayasha might have planned everything, Ishtar executed her orders and that was something Gaea refused to forgive. It took him a while, several months before he was able to find his mother, but he finally did. She had moved again, this time she chose to stay in Siberia, among the Yukaghir people, an indigenous group living in the cold weather of the vast country. She was tending to the horses but felt the presence of her son.  Immediately, she turned around to face him and welcomed him with a cold voice.

"Why are you here?" 

A vintage touch: (PB): Temptation

//

XXXX

"Tommy?"

Polly's voice was a distant echo for Tommy wasn't listening. His icy blue eyes were scanning the room, noticing how crowded the place had suddenly become since he arrived. He watched people and their behavior and took mental notes he would use later for himself. Mary had organized a charity ball for the biggest donors of the Grace Shelby Institute. She needed to show them the results of their donations, help improve the institute's reputation and help more children as a result. She knew what she was doing, obviously, because the room was packed with influential people, donors, and would-be donors.  Most of them were from the upper class and they decided to do some charity to buy themselves a place in Heaven. None of them cared for the orphans. None of them cared for the children, because if they cared for them, they would have made better investments. there wouldn't be a need for an institute. 

"Tommy!"

Polly's voice didn't reach Thomas Shelby who was worried. He didn't like the idea of having so many people crowding a place he liked and having Mary in the spotlight. There lay his biggest worry. She chose to make a show that night, make sure she would sing, and win over the hearts of the upper society who would feel more inclined to spend their money. It also was the first time she would introduce herself to that society, made exclusively of white Christians who would not take it very well to have a black woman at the head of such a prestigious institution. Of course, they noticed the MP Thomas Shelby, and his presence alone was enough to reign in the most vitriolic behavior. It couldn't stop them, however, from letting go of snide comments or insults and Tommy was nervous about it. 

"Tom!" -Polly raised her voice, snapping the Shelby out of his thoughts- "Finally! you're back with me. Ada is talking to the donors you were the most suspicious of, Arthur isn't drinking... too much. He's sober for now. I asked Finn and Isaiah to keep an eye out for trouble. Johnny is also on the lookout, we should be alright tonight."

"Good. Good. It's a very high-profile event. I don't know why I agreed to let Mary do this." -he wanted to smoke, his fingers were itching and his throat was dry.- 

"She's not alone tonight, Tommy. We're here. Her family's here." -That sentence had the Shelby elder look at Polly with an inquisitive gaze. Why would she say that they were Mary's family? Now, of all the days she could have chosen?-

"As long as she sees us, I think she'll be fine." -Polly squinted her eyes, studying the features of her nephew.-

For the untrained eye, Tommy would seem cold and distant, but the truth was, he was beyond stressed about the night. Sure, he did find some comfort knowing that the family was surrounding and protecting Mary, but something didn't sit well with him. He was worried about the reactions others would have upon seeing the woman. Great Britain wasn't exactly a holy land that welcomed all, regardless of religion, race, or even wealth. It was a fucking cesspool of selfish people who wouldn't hesitate one bit and would hurt Mary the first chance they get. Hurt Mary...His Mary! He couldn't accept it. It had only been a very short while since he acted on his feelings and gave in to her, on her birthday night. They grew closer, had sex... made love and she slept in his bed. His bed... It wasn't just making love, it was a connection he still refused to acknowledge today because if he did, it would be too late. If he did embrace his feelings for Mary, he wouldn't be able to backpedal, minimize those emotions or bury them. He would feel them all, and he would feel them hard. 

Still, they made love. Still, it felt right. Still, it went beyond anything he'd ever felt with anyone. Since Grace. That night changed everything and the lies he kept telling himself to stay away from her didn't work any longer. On one hand, he treated her like family. Treated her to the nicest places, put her in his Last Will, and kept her in his house and around his son. He was jealous beyond rationality. Tommy couldn't bear the idea of another man touching her, fucking her, loving her. He couldn't bear the idea of Mary leaving his home, because it also was hers now. She lived there. She was his! But on the other hand, Tommy wanted to protect her at all costs from his lethal hand. He wasn't very lucky with love and family, most of the people he loved ended up either dead or with their lives ruined. Mary had suffered enough, as he saw it; He couldn't cause her more grief because of his never-ending ambition, the danger he would most certainly put her in, the heartache, the PTSD... He couldn't take the risk to see the disappointment in her eyes because he would screw up something or would make a decision that would hurt her. 

"You sometimes have me wonder Tommy." -He lifted a brow, inviting Aunt Polly to speak more of her mind. She always had a way with words and she always seemed to know the things he kept to himself.- "I sometimes wonder if you're more afraid to witness Mary be hurt or if you're afraid someone might actually sweep her off of her feet." -He took a deep breath and took a glass of whisky a waiter was carrying on a silver platter.- "Uh...If I didn't know you so well, I would say that you are afraid someone comes to take her away. You might be, but you're more concerned about her safety, aren't you?"

Polly was spot on. These kinds of events were the perfect opportunity for people to meet and he knew that among those fine gentlemen -swine- there might have been someone who was an honest man and who could actually seduce his Mary. Tommy refused to let it happen, he couldn't even consider it. However, she was right, more than losing Mary to another man, he didn't want to lose her. She would become very exposed in a couple of minutes and she would have all eyes on her, meaning that she couldn't actually remain anonymous. He didn't want her to become a target because of her association with the Peaky Blinders, but who was he fooling? The world already knew she was affiliated with the Peaky Blinders back when she was still a waitress singing at the Garrison Pub. 

"She's gonna be alright. Arthur's here. We are all here. I have my eyes on her." -Tommy chose to ignore Polly's teasing words and focus on the most important, Mary.-

 He had not seen her ever since he entered the reception room. Most of the presentation was done by the current head of the institute, so Mary had not appeared yet. Tommy couldn't wait any longer, frustration was taking over, so he chose to take a cigarette out, rub it over his lips, lit it, and inhale a puff. Polly squinted her eyes and curled her lips into a pout. She understood given the level of stress and worry, that something had changed between the two and supposed that they probably finally made love again. The only moment she ever saw Tommy this stressed was during his wedding with Grace. He was on a loop of his own, with ideas polluting his mind and begging for release.

"Tommy?" -He ignored her for a while, prompting the older woman to repeat his name several times.- "Tommy?!" -He didn't answer, his eyes still looking around for the young woman. Where was Mary? Was she talking to someone? And if yes, who? - "Tommy!!"

"What?! Polly?" -He groaned and rolled his eyes, blowing his smoke in front of her.- "I don't see Arthur, he's supposed to be inside and I don't see him! Is he drinking again?"

"He is sober. He wanted to be to make sure he wouldn't miss anything. He is as concerned as you are about Mary's safety. Calm down!"

"Why did you ask for me then, Polly?" -He asked, his jaw clenched and he nervously put the ash on some nearby flower pot.-

"Something is different about you.  Did you two fuck again?" -He would have blushed. He would have if he was a different man. He would have coughed, probably adjusted his collar and he would have probably lie-

"That is none of your c--" -He was interrupted by the voice of the current headmistress of the Institute. She introduced Mary, explaining what was about to happen. The donors were in for a treat. Mary had 3 songs to sing and would be supported by a choir of orphans.-

Arthur found Ada who was standing on her own with a glass of champagne. Her blue eyes set upon her older brother who was nervously walking in circles. Arthur was sober, and that was not a state of mind he actually liked because his thoughts were way too clear, way too painful. He remembered Grace's Death and the guilt he felt for not having been able to save his sister and the pressure put on his shoulders to ensure the protection of his new sister. He wanted a drink, Ada could tell, so she offered her glass of champagne, knowing her brother wouldn't get drunk on champagne. 

"I'm nervous."

"She's going to sing, and in this room, there are some of the most important people in the country. They are well-protected. Mary would be fine." -She handed him her glass- "Drink, Arthur. Loosen up a bit."

"Thanks." -He was hesitating a little bit, but he ended up taking the drink of his sister- "Do you think they would riot?"

"Is it what you're afraid of?  Of people being bloody racists? You know what, if they are, then we will treat them like they deserve to be treated. We will show them that nobody disrespects our Mary."

"You like her! I knew it! you like her." -Arthur grinned and emptied the glass of champagne- "Tommy also likes her." -Ada nodded and crossed her arms above her chest.-

"Tommy is an idiot. I don't know how he does it. She's been there this whole time, caring, loving, absolutely in love with this idiot and my brother isn't even able to notice it. I have never seen him so happy. I'm frustrated with him, Arthur."

"I am frustrated too. I don't think he believes Mary could go. She won't wait for him forever." -Ada looked at her older brother, up and down before a grin crept on her lips and she nodded-

"I'll drink to that." -But as the round of applause became louder and the delicate voice of Mary finally echoed through the whole room, both Arthur and Ada looked at the stage where the Headmistress was still on and watched as Mary appeared.-

Tommy's eyes grew wide as he looked at her. She was wearing a beautiful white and gold flapper dress that enhanced the curves she usually hid with larger clothes -as the current trend demanded-. The dress was sleeveless and she was wearing white gloves. On her perfect curls was a silver roman crown and she had pearl earrings to complete her look. Mary was stunning and Tommy felt his heart race in his ribcage. Polly looked at him, wondering if she was right about her assumptions. Tommy and Mary had sex, and she knew it because of the way he kept trying to look for the woman. She could tell he was concerned about the way others perceived her, and perhaps that also was part of his concerns. Would Tommy be able to keep his cool if someone disrespected Mary? Would he be able to refrain from violence or petty revenge if someone was trying to hit on her? Would he be able to contain himself? 

Mary was nervous, Polly could tell. She was smiling as she introduced the first song she was going to sing. It was a very energetic song, which put her front and center and forced the audience to pay attention to her. Tommy had to struggle to tear his gaze away from her. He noticed the way people looked at her. There was a deafening silence upon her first appearance as people didn't know how to react to her. She was, indeed,  a black woman. -despite how light her skin was, her features, curves and the tone of her skin betrayed her African ancestry-. She was a black woman who had responsibilities -Head nun? - and one who had organized the event of the night. They were skeptical, some even laughed at her sigh and whispered between themselves -or brazenly spoke, within earshot of Tommy- about how unnatural it was for them to have Virgin Mary sing to them. Some others called them vulgar for the curves she had the nerves to have. Tommy snapped at them, already losing his cool upon those assholes, and shut them down with a few good quips.

Mary looked around at the audience, noticing that they weren't sold on her performance just yet. She didn't lose her motivation, instead choosing to continue to perform. Music was universal, and she knew that if she persevered, they might be invested in the show. They looked, it was a start. So she danced, turned on her heels, moved her shoulders, and started to seduce the audience. In truth, Mary was looking for Tommy in the audience. She wanted to see him and dedicate the show to him but he was nowhere to be seen, which made her nip at her bottom lip.  The Shelby elder was mesmerized by Mary. The confidence she had when she was dancing was infectious and Tommy heard some nice compliments coming from the people around him. This soothed his heart, knowing that people were appreciative of Mary and he wouldn't need to fight them all night long. -Or would he?-.  She kept singing and dancing, and the children who were doing the choir were also enjoying themselves, warming the atmosphere. Polly smiled and looked at Ada who was enjoying the show and Arthur who was clapping his hand, literally living the song. 

Tommy relaxed upon seeing the change of behavior. He walked closer to the stage, where people were a lot more invested in the show as Mary chose to settle for something with a different mood. It was a very sensual song, it only was conveyed through the lyrics and her voice. She sat on a stool, legs crossed, her intense green eyes staring at the audience. She still hadn't found Thomas but she kept looking for him. The song outraged some devout women who clutched at their pearls and elbowed their husbands to stop looking at this temptress with those eyes filled with envy. Envy...Lust. Tommy could see those men staring at his girl, admiring her gorgeous curves, enjoying her uncanny beauty and the magnetic charisma. She was gorgeous, she was sexy and despite their first apprehension, some actually drank in the sight before them. It irritated Tommy to no ends, to see other people visibly imagining doing things to the young woman. Some even joked about taking her out after her performance, while others wanted to do far more. 

Part of him actually enjoyed the fact she was desired. He was a proud man and he enjoyed being looked at with envy. He enjoyed when others appreciated the beautiful women he was with, the nice cars, nice clothes, and everything that could make other people want to either be him, or be with him. However, he disliked the way they were drooling over her. He hated the thought of one of them trying to steal his girl from him. He hated the fact that someone could just come in and sweep her off of her feet. Things were complicated for the Shelby. He wanted her near, he wanted her with him and yet, yet... he couldn't even begin to admit that he wanted it. He was worried that his curse would also get to her, so what could he do? eh? What could he do? Finally the song ended and Mary received a second round of applause. 

"The last song is very special for me. It is a love song. If you ever love someone, I want you to sing this song to them, let your hearts speak." -She said, taking her breath back before she put her hands on her chest. Her heart was racing in her ribcage, hitting hard, way too hard for her to handle but she decided to take a deep breath.- "The name of the song is, 'don't be Afraid' "- She looked in the audience and finally found Tommy who was standing a couple feet from her, both hands in his pockets.

"Go and wreck their hearts, Mary!" -Ada whispered and bit, watching the young woman take her breath back and gently help the children leave the stage. Polly joined them and gently wrapped her arm around Ada's waist -

Mary was alone, at the center of the attention but with her eyes set upon Tommy. For a moment, there was nothing but them. He was attentive, knowing full well that she was singing for him. The music started and she slowly started to sway, smiling gently at Tommy. Her beautiful and clear voice started to fill the room and she sang. She sang her heart out, hitting high notes, claiming her love for Tommy and while she didn't say much, the Peaky Blinder heard her clearly and his heart, oh his heart started to beat hard, soaking her emotions up, hearing the words she had not said to him. He knew that she wasn't ready to say them, just like he wasn't ready to hear them, but both knew they had feelings for one another. both knew that they cared for the other. Both knew... they just knew.  He just couldn't give into those feelings. How could he take the risk to hurt Mary? How could he force a lifetime of suffering and pain, and even worst, Death? Losing Grace had done a number on him, it opened a wound that had not stopped bleeding and he left the Shelby's heart in shambles. 

Mary ended her song, to a thunderous applause, yet she noticed the tear that had escaped from her right eye. A tear she cried when she sang about giving a second chance to love. The woman felt vulnerable but she was unable to rest because a sea of people requested her attention. She thanked them and slowly  exited the stage to rest a little in a room adjacent to the main room. Tommy was snapped out of his reverie by Arthur who had joined him and patted his brother's shoulder. He was proud, the checks were coming, the donors chose to give more money to the institute thanks to the performances. They asked for Mary, some of the women wanted to know about the clothes and the hairstyle she had that night, others wanted to see her perform again, while some of the men made a variety of comments, from the excited one upon the enchanting show that was given that night, to the crudest comments that  had Tommy roll his eyes for a second before he clenched his jaw a little harder. 

"There are too many people, Arthur. Too many with bad intentions. Too many who could hurt her. I could hurt her."

" She knows who you are, brother. She knows who you are, and yet she's still here." -He patted Tommy's shoulder- "She's still here. Go find her, I think she'd like to see you in a quieter place." 

He nodded and Tommy responded in kind, before he grabbed a cigarette he lit and started to walk towards the restroom where Mary was using. His heart was beating way faster now, faster than he wanted. yet, he couldn't stop himself from walking towards her. Could he ever? 

-TBC-