#I think I've seen like ONE other person talk about this and I am so serious when I say I think it's true

[7seas-of-ryy]

Crestfallen - Part 3

Author’s Note: I made up a lot of sicknesses/random things that have never been mentioned throughout the actual ACOTAR series! The breaks in text are going back and forth between the two rooms.

Overall Summary: Although you were born in the Day Court, you've been living in the Night Court for a century. You're close with the inner circle but what will happen when a new healer is brought into the picture?

Part 3 Summary: Clara has been found out, but what has she done to you?

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: talks of injuries

"I'm sure I have no idea what you mean." Clara said softly, a small confused smile on her lips.

"When I asked you to help her, you said "I didn't do this one." What does that mean." Nesta snarled at the young healer.

Mor seemed deep in thought, Azriel and Cassian were equally confused, and Nesta seemed ready to pounce.

"Now that you mention it, I do remember hearing her say that." Mor spoke up.

"You better tell us what's up right now." Cassian growled.

At this point, Clara's smile faultered. She looked around for a way out but noticed the four of them had her surrounded and they wouldn't stop until they knew the truth. She may be evil but she wasn't dumb.

"It wasn't even that bad." The healer confessed.

"What have you done?" Azriel questioned, his voice deadly calm.

------

Madja had seen cases like yours before but never this bad. The cut on your back had traces of venom in it. A rare venom that used the victim's power against them.

She needed to extract every last ounce of it that was in your system but it was trickier than it sounded. If she took too much too fast, it could essentially tear your powers from your very being which would kill you.

"I need you to enter her mind. Once you are in, I will start to remove the poison from her system, you just need to let me know if her mind starts fading." Madja explained to Rhys.

"Are you sure this will work?" Rhys asked.

"Of course I am, boy. Now do as I say." She said quickly.

Rhys tried to enter your mind but all he could see was blinding light. There was no where for him to enter, it was almost as if the light was burning him. He pulled away, never feeling anything like it before.

"I can't get in, her light, it burns me." He explained to the healer.

"Listen to me. It might burn a bit but you will be fine. On the other hand, if we don't fix her right now her light will continue to burn brighter until it has consumed her. Perhaps we could get the shadowsinger in here to help." Madja told Rhys, hoping Azriel's shadows could help.

Rhys immediately spoke to Az through his mind and he appeared within seconds.

"What can I help with?" He rushed out his question.

"I cannot enter her mind, it is too bright, painfully so. Could you somehow use your shadows to help me get through?" Rhys explained the situation.

"I can try." Az responded.

------

Cassian looked towards where Azriel just stood, knowing he went to help you.

"I have no clue what's wrong with Y/N, honest. I swear I didn't think it would go this far." Clara pleaded with the group.

"You better start explaining before I unleash Nesta upon you." Cassian threatened.

Nesta had been eerily still, like a predator hunting her prey. Clara was visibly scared. Her hands were shaking, terrified of what Nesta would do to her.

"Ok listen. I've had a huge crush on Azriel for years now, so when I saw you guys needed another healer I took that as my opportunity." The "healer" explained.

"We've only known you for 2 weeks, how could you have a crush on him for years?" Mor asked.

"Everyone knows Azriel, the mighty shadowsinger, the feared spymaster of the Night Court. Well...when I met him all he wanted to talk about was Y/N. About how much I'd love her personality, how she's so great," Clara went on, "so I was a little jealous of her."

By this point, Mor was dissappointed she didn't believe you. She assumed you were exhausted from your mission and the guilt she felt was awful.

"When she showed up to my shop I got angry that she was back so soon. Rhys wanted me to do a check up on her and all I saw was a tiny cut on her back so I thought she'd be fine and I just wanted her to leave." She continued to explain.

Nesta was fuming by this point. Not only because of what she did to her friend but also because she didn't see through Clara sooner.

"Wait wait wait, all this is happening to Y/N because you're jealous of her? What kind of vile creature are you?" Cassian seathed.

"I didn't mean for any of this to happen-" She began to plead when Azriel appeared in the room again.

------

Rhys re-entered your mind, this time with Azriel's shadows being a protective barrier around him. It was way easier this time but he wasn't sure how long Az could hold it.

"Alright, start." Rhys told Madja.

The healer began her work. Unweaving the venom from your powers, from your soul. She was about halfway through when Rhys called out.

"STOP! I can feel her fading!" Rhys was panting, he was exerting all his energy.

Madja pulled out, confusion taking over.

"This doesn't make sense. It's as if another energy is pulling her powers. Like an untouched ball of energy using up the rest of her." She explained.

"What do we do?" Azriel questioned.

"It needs another energy form to pull from..." She started.

"My shadows." He whispered.

Before anyone could stop him he sent them out to you and that little ball inside of you immediately began to absorb them. He screamed out in pain and Rhys and Madja quickly began to work.

It took only a few moments more for Madja to finish yet it felt like an eternity for the two males. It had been way easier now that Az was distracting whatever it was inside of you. The venom was successfully extracted and the room was eerily quiet. Rhys and Az both fell back, feeling drained from using their powers in such a way.

"Why isn't she waking up?" The shadowsinger whispered, making his way toward you.

"It must have to do with whatever is deep inside her. I need to do a full body work up on her to see what is going on." She spoke and started right away.

Az felt a tear slide down his cheek and quickly brushed it away. The High Lord stayed back to give you space to be checked out but he felt the same as the male next to him, worried and hopeless.

It felt like an eternity when Madja spoke up again.

"There is a substance inside her nose. Almost like a powder but I haven't seen it before. I'll have to take it back with me to break the molecules down. I'm afraid Y/N will have to stay in this state for now." She told the two males.

Azriel's head shot toward Madja at her words.

"Wait, did you say a powder was in her nose?" He muttered.

She just nodded her head in response, holding up the sample she collected. Your words from earlier popped into his head.

"Y/N told me 'she blew some powder in my face which caused everything'." Azriel stated coldly and winnowed away.

------

The shadowsinger appeared in front of Clara, his shadows surrounding her and pinning her against the wall. She shrieked in either pain or fear but he didn't care. You were in danger and he would stop at nothing to help you.

"What did you blow in Y/N's face?" He demanded.

"What?!" She feigned innocence.

Azriel held up the vial of powder close to her face. His shadows squeezed tighter around her frame.

"It's nothing serious," She weezed out, "It's a mix of vamire, spitfire aconite, and root of igranium. All it's supposed to do is heighten the pain/sickness they already have. I had an antidote that I gave her. It's in my bag."

Mor quickly grabbed the bag from the female, searching for both the powder and the antidote. She handed them both to Az.

"And why would you posion her just to give her an antidote?" Cass asked.

"I wanted to impress Azriel." She whimpered looking down.

"What's in the antidote?" Az shouted at her making her flinch.

"A..Adlirin and G..G..Green Gilliflower." She sputtered in terror.

The shadows left along with their master and she fell to the floor.

------

"Both of these are in her system," Az spoke holding the vials, "Vamire, Spitfire Aconite, Root of Igranium, Aldirin, and Green Gilliflower."

Madja's eyes grew wide and a bad feeling shot through both Az and Rhys at her reaction.

"This isn't good." She said, looking over your unconscious form.

Taglist

@rcarbo1 @acourtofbatboydreams @bravo-delta-eccho @tele86 @theravenphoenix26

@anoneyesee @ren-ni @kabekusa @isa1b2h3 @i-am-infinite

@historygeekqueen @mariahoedt @fr0stf4ll

[grublovequeue]

hi! i dont want to reblog this to my main because its really long.

this post is trying to discuss and explain some possible explanations for why the specific ways that i have watched transmascs participate in the persecution of transfemme people might have arisen. im not trying to claim that every transmasc person is somehow evil or that everyone in all transmasuline community is doing these things. but there is a lot of appropriation of or dismissal of transmisogyny happening and a lot of open hostility towards transfem people also occuring. so this is me trying to discuss the places that i think some of those behaviors might be originating from.

whiteness is not used here as a modifier designed to invalidate anyone or dismiss them out of hand, nor am i claiming that everyone participating in the behaviors i am trying to explain is white. i am adding white as a qualifier to my theory here because this is a tentative explanation of the behavior of people who are in my own demographic of white transmascs and is therefore based on my own white transmasculine experience.

this is me trying to explain why the transfemme people in my life have had patterns of transmasculine people dismissing, invalidating, or appropriating their experiences. a lot of those people did so under the banner of being 'anti-transandrophobia'. so i put it in the tag :) any specific things i am claiming happen in this post are things that have genuinely happened often in front of me in person and online to my transfem loved ones! yes even the one about "viewing transmisogyny as a privilege". that specific sentiment has been expressed to me and to my family several times in person and i've seen it repeated other places online. it is bizarre and an extreme example of the kind of behavior visibility-as-privilege thought can get you into but it is not a strawman.

overall i do not think you got my point in your initial reply. i can go point by point talking about these things if you would like more clarification but i think getting those points out of the way first will probably explain some of what you are seeing here.

my theory about this which is very constrained by my personal aka white experience is that one of the things that happens to u as a white baby girl and then as a young white woman is that bad things are happening to you, and everybody needs to convince you they arent happening (to make sure u are subjugated but still content enough to further the project of white supremacy). and also nothing you think or feel or want can be real or meaningful bc ur just a girl.

and so if ur going to be aware of ur own misery and oppression under patriarchy u have to like develop these repetitive cycles of validation of your own oppression and internal experience as Real and Valid. because everything is very invested in making you forget.

and then this cycle can continue when u transition: the overwhelming majority of bad reactions to transmasc people are based upon that previous reaction to girlness which is to infantilize u and dismiss you and treat u like u arent real. and so as a continued reaction to this many tmasc people become singlemindedly focused upon Realness and Validity. Realness becomes the Only Real Problem, the one Great Wound to be healed.

which to my tfem friends can explain a lot abt the weird way tmasc heavy spaces talk about gender: its a lot of reassuring yourself and others that you're Valid. that youre Real and Valid. youre So Valid. which for most of the tfem people in my life has been kind of bewildering because the truth is if ur tma nobody needs to tell you what youre doing is real because immediately people start doing transmisogyny at you.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Hey there! Joshua Graham is mid-ghoulification underneath those bandages, which is why his burns never seem to 'heal' properly despite all the things he's claimed to try to fix them. The wrappings keep his festering skin protected, but also hide the horror of it so that he doesn't have to truly face what he's becoming. I mean, what are the religious implications of becoming a ghoul? I think he's long accepted that there's no place in heaven for him, but just what sort of eternal punishment is a life that never ends? Especially for a man like Joshua, who has directly caused so much harm and now has to live in the world that harm has caused FOREVER?

[bookwyrminspiration]

politely, can we please express our differing opinions without being rude/using ad hominem attacks? "you just can't handle [thing]" is so condescending for no reason, and unhelpful/inaccurate to boot. "just say [different point]" is, once again, condescending and dismissive. "how did you even come to [certain conclusion]?" logically, same as you. disagreeing doesn't mean it's senseless or baseless. these are just some common examples; there are others

no, you don't have to agree with everyone else's opinions/theories/characterization/analysis. I certainly don't. but the way a lot of the fandom's been expressing it lately feels so antagonistic and unpleasant.

[unhinged-as-hell]

Honestly I am on no side at all if we're going with that. The two sides of marauders are "everyone's a feminist and gay, and if you don't like that you're homophobic." and "everyone is a purist and racist, and if you don't see that you're stupid." blah blah blah. I've seen both sides and I don't want to be included in either, honestly. I'm in a in between where I like canon because it's interesting, but I have my headcanons.

I am going to be balantly honest and it might be a bit rude, I've seen a ton of hate accounts for all ships, and never has it really been about inclusivity. Most of the time when I see inclusivity being mentioned is by posts like this, or by other fanon shippers who talk about this. Now I'm not saying there aren't any, every fandom has a bit of everything, but I don't see a lot of this.

Let's take jegulus. I've seen two blogs in total that are, quite frankly, pieces of shit about it, but I've seen people give valid reasons on why they don't like it. I don't like it personally because I'm more interested in canon Regulus(who wasnt great at all) and I hc him as aroace, and because James is often mischaractized.

And most of the people who ship canon ships are fairly inclusive. Jily is often seen as a bi couple, Remus is seen as bi and Tonks as queer(I hc her as unlabeled and non binary) in nearly every bit of Remadora media I've seen.

There's always going to be 'purist' about it, but it's never all of them and they shouldn't be sorted with the assholes.

If anything I do think canon shippers are a bit bitter because their ship is seen as secondary, or boring and, was you said, not as valuable. I know that because I am. The jily tag is taken over my jegulus or pandalily or any ship that isn't jily. Same goes for Remadora with Wolfstar, I love both but it's annoying seeing it taken over. Marauderstok is something I avoid because in every video about a canon ship has comments of fanon ships even if it isn't about that. I've barely seen this with fanon ones(not to say I haven't, one the those two hate accounts are bitches bout it).

People should have their own spaces, they shouldn't go taking over others because they don't like it. And when it comes to fanon shippers, well I see them on media that isn't for them quite a bit.

Being in this fandom makes me uncomfortable because if you don't meet specific 'criterias' that this fandom has set, whether unintentionally or not, you aren't included in a lot of it.

This is not hate, I promise, I just want to put my perspective, and something different for what you've been seeing, out there. The marauders fandom, especially, has so many people and sides in it so to put all of them in a small box just bothers me.

i think some marauders canon shippers are the reason that the marauders fandom gets such a bad rep.

i’ve posted about this before, but i think it’s important to keep talking about this because it’s important that this fandom be an inclusive and safe community

mostly because i think they’re the most vocal about their hate.

most content i’ve seen produced by fanon shippers isn’t hateful

canon shippers that create and promote hateful content make it harder for this fandom to be inclusive and diverse.

i understand disliking death eaters and not liking fanon ships, but if your account is built off of content that insults people that do ship them, maybe it’s time to look inwards.

i believe content creators can create content that is not solely based on being hateful, you can express an opinion without belittling and insulting other people.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Everytime I face a new character limit on a website that didn't have them before/used to have really long ones... AUGHHhhh the modern social media world was not made for people like me (lovers of details, rambling, elaboration, thorough explanation, and nuance)

[tanicus-caesareth]

guarana drama, damage control

[selvepnea]

Some builds I've been working on

[brummiereader]

@mischievouslittlecreature I love a jealous Tommy 😍!

I honestly wana bash their heads together sometimes 🤦🏼‍♀️. They're both constantly worrying almost the same exact things about the other. Whether the other will leave them, if the other deserves someone else, that they're too much of a headache for the other...arghhh 😭! Their characteristics and insecurities are so intertwined that I swear they're the same person 😂.

Ada pressed her red-painted lips together, trying–and failing–to suppress a smile. “That little crush he has on her is quite sweet.” oh Ada, don't you know your brother. This was possibly the worst thing you could have said to him 🤦🏼‍♀️. Or perhaps it was on purpose? Siblings trying to annoy one another 🤭? I was not shocked by his reaction, and the sudden spiralling he left himself quickly fall into. Like I said, he may be better at hiding it than Lucy, but this man had major fears when it comes to the mere idea of losing Lucy to someone else.

"I let him go yesterday.” ahh yes, classic Tommy 👌🏼. Instead of talking about the issue that's bothering him, get rid of It entirely instead. I think the way Lucy reacted is the first time I've ever seen her properly snap at him 🤔. He deserved it though. He completely blindsided her with this move!

“Adam doesn’t have a crush on me.” ok so, Tommy was oblivious to Adams crush and so was Lucy 🤦🏼‍♀️😂. These two really are in their own little bubble! We've already seen how they are in a room full of people. They can't keep their eyes and thoughts off each other. So actually, their mutual obliviousness doesn't surprise me!

She gaped at him. “Do I need to remind you that your wife was working as your secretary when you impregnated her?” 💅🏼, well she's not, not right, Tommy.

“Yeah, well, I’m not doing shit that’s leading him on either.” Another justified blow and reality check he needed to hear.

"And I am. I am yours.” Her lips trembled and she pressed them tightly together, tilting her head ever so slightly. “But you’re not mine.” ahhh, this was such a good line but so heartbreaking to read 😭. If Lizzie was a half decent person in this AU she would have refused this arrangement. She knows how much these two love each other, and how much heartbreak this would cause everyone involved. But alas, she's not 😤.

I gotta admit, I was a little scared when Adam suddenly appeared. I thought Tommy would come barging through at any minute 😳. But what I didn't except was how respectful and understanding he was. What a sweetheart 🥰. Of course he picked up on the loving glances Tommy gives Lucy. Everyone else may have blinkers on when it comes to their relationship, but sweet Adam clearly knows love when he sees it ❤️.

Tommy was seated on the crimson colored velvet couch. His suit jacket off and tossed haphazardly over the back of a chair, head in his hands and an over half drunk bottle of whiskey on the table in front of him. Drowning in his sorrows 🙄😂. He's like a cat that's been left out in the rain 🤭. I'm relieved he gave Adam back his job and they managed to move past Tommy's jealous little hiccup. But I feel like this little scare may have only increased his protectiveness over her 😅.

He shook his head despite blushing against her hands. “‘M big scary gangster.”-“Mm, yeah, I know.” She chuckled when he draped his arms around her lazily and snuggled into her neck. “The most fearsome of them all.”- “Damn right.” I love his drunken rambling 😂. It was such a cute and endearing way to end this angsty chapter.

Slowly making my way through all the parts I've missed, hopefully I'll be caught up with everything soon 🤞🏼! Loved seeing jealous Tommy, please bring him out to to play again sometime soon 🤭.

Part 25: My Darling One

Summary: Tommy overreacts when he learns of the crush his secretary has on his lover.

Word Count: 6,808

Warnings: Jealousy, Tommy being a bit of an asshole, sexual content, and references to polyamory.

Notes: Tommy and Lucy are in an established relationship. Tommy is married to Lizzie, but is having an affair with Lucy--though Lizzie is aware of it and has somewhat begrudgingly allowed their relationship to continue. This takes place between seasons 4 and 5.

Previous Part • Series • Next Part

“I met your secretary while I was waiting,” Ada told Tommy as they sat at his desk in his office in the House of Commons. “He seems nice.”

“Yeah, he’s a good kid.” It had taken ages for them to find someone that fit all their requirements in a secretary. Adam was smart and competent, but also understood the importance of discretion. He was more than willing to look the other way when it came to some of their more shadowy dealings. “He’s settling in well.”

“Lucy’s training him?”

“Of course. Who else?”

Ada pressed her red-painted lips together, trying–and failing–to suppress a smile. “That little crush he has on her is quite sweet.”

Tommy went stock still, pen freezing where it was poised over a paper. “His what?”

Ada looked up at him sharply, the change in his tone triggering her smile to fall. “You don’t know? He’s so obvious about it.”

“He’s not…” but his mind was working back, reexamining. Remembering the way that Adam sometimes looked at Lucy, the puppy-like way he followed her around during his first week. How sometimes Tommy would come out of his office into the space where Lucy and Adam’s desks were located to find them giggling together over something. 

“Look, I’m sure it’s not a big deal,” Ada had returned her attention to the papers in her lap. “Just a puppy love kind of thing. And it isn’t like she’s interested, so…” she shrugged, looking up at him with a playful glint in her eye, “put the razors away, alright Tom?”

“Hmph,” he grunted, even as he leaned back slightly in his chair, knuckles raising to rest against his lips, eyes glued to the double doors that led out into Lucy and Adam’s office. 

The idea of Adam sitting right out there, flirting and laughing with Lucy, made his blood boil. 

Jealousy was not something he often had to deal with in regards to Lucy. Nearly everyone in Small Heath knew she was off limits and kept their eyes to themselves; lest they risk losing them. Not to mention that Lucy never showed any interest in any men outside of him. 

His lips pursed against his knuckles, jaw clenching as he remembered how Lucy had smiled at Adam that morning when he came in. 

That’s just Lucy. She’s warm and friendly towards everyone.

But the doubt had taken root in his head and was already starting to grow. 

Dropping his hand, he sighed, trying to force himself to focus on what he and Ada were supposed to be working on, but finding it increasingly difficult to pull his mind away from turning over each and every encounter he’d witnessed between Lucy and Adam. 

Yes; Ada was right. The kid definitely had a crush on her. But how did Lucy feel about him?

Why don’t you just ask her, you fucking dolt?

But he was suddenly frozen with fear at what her answer might be. 

He was aware of how hard he was to be with. It wouldn’t surprise him if she got tired of his constant moodiness and brooding. He wasn’t exactly a fun person to be around. Lucy could do a thousand times better. It continued to amaze him that she hadn’t up and left him already for someone who actually deserved her. 

And for someone who isn’t married to someone else, he thought miserably, thumb running across the surface of the gold wedding band on his left hand. A shackle that kept him tied to another woman who wasn’t the love of his life. 

Things with Lizzie had been touch and go. She knew about them, and while she allowed them to continue their relationship so long as they were subtle and kept things behind closed doors, she had made her discontentment about it known on several occasions. 

Her mood swings were getting almost as bad as his own. Poor Lucy, having to put up with both of them and their bullshit all the bloody time.

Though he had never taken out his anger or frustrations on Lucy. The same couldn’t be said for Lizzie. Often, it was Lucy who wound up being used as the punching bag for her ire. On a few occasions he’d had to step in to try to shield his lover from his wife’s jealous ragings.

It wasn’t all bad, of course. Sometimes Lizzie was warm and friendly. But her feelings and behaviors towards Lucy swung back and forth like a pendulum, and often they found themselves walking on eggshells around her for fear that saying or doing the wrong thing might set her off. 

With an arrangement like that, it would be no wonder if Lucy started looking for someone else who could offer her a full life. Not one relegated to moments of affection displayed only in shadowy corners or dark rooms. One where she could be loved openly.

The right thing to do would be to let her go. Let her be happy. He loved her so much; that was all he really wanted for her. But the idea of losing Lucy to someone else made him feel sick. Some other man touching her, kissing her, making love to her…

His heart twisted painfully in his chest. 

You fucking hypocrite. Sitting there agonizing over the simple thought of her doing all those things that you do with your wife. How do you think she feels when she has to see you with Lizzie?

He swallowed miserably, fumbling in the case on his desk for a cigarette. But the smoke that he inhaled did nothing to drown out the misery swirling inside him.

∗ ∗ ∗                                          

“Do you know where Adam is? He’s over an hour late,” Lucy asked when she came in to drop off some mail on Tommy’s desk, glancing around as if the secretary would materialize somewhere in the room. When she looked back at Tommy where he was seated in his big chair, he was shifting uncomfortably, not entirely meeting her gaze. 

“I let him go yesterday.”

“You what?” She whirled to stare at him, taken aback. “Why?”

He shrugged, fiddling with his silver cigarette case, popping it open and plucking one out, swiping it across his lips. “It just wasn’t a right fit.” 

“What does that mean?” Her hands landed on her lips, looking at him in confusion. She thought he’d liked Adam. 

“It means that you’re going to need to find me a new secretary.”

Lucy’s eyes widened at the curt tone. He almost never got snappish with her, and the near accusatory glance he shot her only left her even more confused and annoyed. 

“You do realize how long it took me to find someone who fit all of our requirements, right?”

“Better get started on collecting applications then, shouldn’t you?”

“What the fuck is your problem?” Her arms crossed over her chest, annoyance sharpening. “You really aren’t going to even tell me what he did that was so wrong you just had to fire him without even talking to me about it?”

“Wasn’t aware that I needed your permission.”

“Of course you don’t! But it would be common courtesy considering I’m the one who will have to pick up all the additional work without him here.”

“I’ll help you with it.”

She snorted. “Yeah, because you’ve got so much free time these days.”

“What–”

Turning on her heel, she stomped towards the double doors. “You’re having lunch with one of the MPs from Southampton. I’m going to go have tea with Ada.” 

“I need you to take notes–”

“Take your own bloody notes!” 

His jaw dropped open at her barking back at him, and she saw his temper flare briefly behind his eyes. 

“What? You going to fire me now too?” she challenged. He had enough self awareness to look at least a little sheepish at that. 

“Luce–”

“I don’t wanna hear it right now,” she wrenched the door open and let it bang closed behind her with perhaps a little more force than necessary.  

∗ ∗ ∗  

“--Can you believe that!?” She stopped aggressively stirring sugar into her tea, tapping the little silver spoon twice against the rim of the teacup before setting it aside and bringing the cup to her lips, blowing on it once before taking a sip. Her eyes finally raised to Ada’s, where she had been sitting very quietly while Lucy raved to her about how thick headed her brother could be. “Ada?”

Her throat worked, fingers adjusting their hold on the teacup she was holding in them. “I think I know why he fired Adam.”

Lucy set down her teacup in its saucer on the table, leaning forward. “Really? Why?”

Ada’s gaze darted up to hers awkwardly. “I may have mentioned something to him about Adam having a little crush on you. I just thought it was sweet. But he may have taken it the wrong way…”

“Adam doesn’t have a crush on me.”

Ada shot her a look. “You really didn’t notice? He was trailing after you like a puppy for a while, there.”

Lucy frowned. “I’m at least ten years older than him.”

Ada shrugged with a sly grin. “Some men are into that sort of thing, I hear.”

Lucy made a face. “I’m not interested in Adam, Ada.”

She rolled her eyes. “Obviously.” 

“So why would Tommy…?”

“Because he’s a man and they get all territorial and ridiculous sometimes.” She picked a stray bit of lint off of her skirt. “And you know how Tommy can be.”

Annoyance prickled under Lucy’s skin. What gave him the right to stomp around and put a poor kid out of work just because of a stupid crush of which nothing would ever come out of anyway? Did he really have so little faith in her loyalty to him?

Besides, he was married. To someone who was very much not her. Did he really think he had a leg to stand on when it came to being pissed off at the idea of her with someone else?

Not that she would ever actually want to be with someone else, of course. But still. It was the principle of the thing. 

“You have got to be kidding me.” She shook her head back and forth, slowly seething through her teeth. “God, he can be so fucking stupid.”

Ada patted her on the arm. “I know.”

By the time she left the tea room, she had been quietly stewing over Tommy’s reasoning for firing Adam for nearly an hour, her anger marinating. When she got back to the office, it was to find Tommy already there, apparently done with his lunch meeting and seated behind his desk, hard at work.

“Are you fucking serious?” She asked, after closing the door and making sure there was no one else around to overhear them, crossing her arms over her chest. Tommy raised his eyes to her, brows lifted behind the rims of his glasses. 

“What did I do now?”

“You fired him because he liked me!?” 

His jaw ticked, setting stubbornly. “He was being unprofessional–”

“Oh, do not even…how!? How was he being unprofessional, Tommy? I didn’t even know he liked me until Ada told me.” 

“This type of thing happening in the office can cause problems.”

She gaped at him. “Do I need to remind you that your wife was working as your secretary when you impregnated her?”

He flinched, gaze darting down to his hands where they were clasped in front of him on the desk. “Exactly. I had to learn my lesson the hard way about keeping someone around despite them being infatuated with one of us. I’m not dealing with that kind of shit again.”

“He’s not infatuated, Tommy! It’s just a stupid crush. It’ll probably go away in a month or two once he hits it off with one of the other secretaries. There’s plenty to choose from around here.”

“We thought the same thing about Lizzie, and now look where we are.”       

“Yeah, well, I’m not doing shit that’s leading him on either.” A low blow, maybe, but she was upset. And the swipe very much applied to both of them, not just him. She had plenty of chances to put a stop to things with Lizzie, and she hadn’t. Tommy shot her a wounded look, and she immediately felt bad. “If we’re talking about firing people over unprofessional, infatuated behavior, I’m the one who should be getting the boot, not him. You know, because you’re fucking me.”

“That’s…that’s different–”

“Why? Because you’re the boss so you can fuck whoever you want but no one else can?” 

“Because we’re in love, and have been together for years! He can’t just come swooping in here and take you! Because you’re mine!”

Her eyes widened, and she flinched away from him. “I’m not some thing that you own.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

She stared at him, shaking her head back and forth slightly, suddenly massively disappointed in him. She kept her jealousy on a tight leash, despite having to watch Lizzie and a whole other slew of women constantly fall over their feet for him. She didn’t throw temper tantrums and demand he never see them again–especially when they were involved in their work–simply because they couldn’t stop drooling over him. 

But one man, just one in she didn’t even know how many years, showed innocent interest in her, and he threw a fucking hissy fit. 

There wasn’t even any chance of something happening between her and Adam. The boy was still practically a kid, and while sweet, very much not her type. 

Did Tommy really not trust her at all? Did he really think she was about to drop everything, abandon the life they’d built together, and run off with the first man to make googly eyes at her?

“You fucking hypocrite,” she spat out. “You want me to be just yours.” Her eyes dropped to focus on the golden band on his left ring finger. To her horror, through her anger, she felt tears building behind her eyes, a lump lodging in her throat. “And I am. I am yours.” Her lips trembled and she pressed them tightly together, tilting her head ever so slightly. “But you’re not mine.”

His brows drew in, frown pinching across his face. Hurt and panic flashed within his big blue eyes. “Lucy…” he rose from his chair, hand reaching out to her, but she took a step back. 

“I don’t want to see you right now.”

“Love, please, I’m sorry…”

“Don’t. Just don’t, Tommy.” Wrapping her arms around herself, she turned and hurried out of the office, snagging her coat from the hook by the door as she did, barely getting out of there in time before she started to quietly cry. 

∗ ∗ ∗

She went for a walk around the city to clear her head, coat pulled in tight around her, head dipped low with her cap pulled over her hair, the shadow of the brim hiding the dried tear tracks running down her cheeks. 

The weather matched her mood, gray clouds gathering over the city, a few droplets of rain already starting to drip from them. Based on the way that the clouds seemed to roil and double overhead, it wouldn’t be long before they would unleash a full downpour on all of them. 

She wasn’t too far from her and Tommy’s London apartment. But she wasn’t ready to face him just yet. Though most of her anger and annoyance towards him had dried up while she stomped throughout the streets and away from Parliament. 

Overprotective fool, she thought grumpily, shaking her head. But now that she’d cooled off and could examine the situation more objectively, she was pretty sure that she understood what had happened. 

He’d panicked when he found out about Adam’s crush on her. He thought that he was going to take her away. How he thought Adam was going to accomplish that, she had no idea. She supposed that it likely didn’t matter. He probably didn’t even know himself. 

More rain drops fell from the sky, in great succession. Glancing up, she pulled her coat in tighter around her, and with quick steps hurried over to a pub on the corner of the street, ducking inside to wait out the worst of the storm. 

The pub was warm and crowded inside, but she managed to find a barstool close to the back to slide into, away from the bustle of bodies crowding around the bar. A barmaid came over and poured her the whiskey that she ordered, then must have seen it in her face that she wanted to be left alone and let her be with just her drink and her thoughts. 

Her eyes trailed lazily across the lines of shelves holding all assortments of bottles filled with liquor, to the phone tucked behind the bar. 

She could call Tommy and let him know where she was. So he wouldn’t worry. It was already starting to get dark out, and by the time it finished raining, it would most likely be night. 

No; she decided after a moment’s consideration. She would let him sweat a little more. 

“Miss. Winters?” 

She started, eyes widening at the realization that the boy who had been the cause of all this madness had shuffled up right beside her, peering at her curiously. 

OhmyGodhe’sstalkingme was the very first thought that occurred to her. “Adam. What are you doing here?”

“I, erm, I usually come here after work with my friends.” She followed where he pointed with her eyes, to a group of young men and women about Adam’s age sitting in a booth together. A few of them were watching them with intrigue, hastily averting their gazes when they saw her looking at them. 

“Oh.” She immediately felt a little bad for her initial assumption that he was following her. 

“Is Mr. Shelby with you?”

She smiled at him kindly. “No, it’s just me tonight.” She took a considerable swig of her whiskey. “Look, Adam, I’m sorry about Mr. Shelby–”

“Oh! No, no, it’s all alright.”

She frowned. “It is?”

He nodded. “He called me, oh, about an hour ago. Explained that it was all some big misunderstanding and that I can come into work tomorrow, if I want.”

Huh. Apparently her yelling and petulantly stomping her feet at him made an even bigger impression than she’d thought. “Oh. Okay. Good. Are you? Coming back in, I mean.”

Adam nodded. “I am.”

“Good.” She flashed him a deprecating smile. “I was dreading having to deal with finding someone else.”

Adam looked bashfully down at his shoes. His ears were turning a little red. “Do you know…what exactly was it…I mean, if I did something wrong, I’d like to know.”

“No, no it was nothing you did.” Other than cause your boss to freak out and think you were going to try to steal his girlfriend. “It’s like he said, it was just a miscommunication.”

“Oh. Alright then.” 

It was then that the barmaid came over with a tray of drinks for Adam. He took it from her, balancing the tray carefully in his hands. 

“You know, you would be welcome to join us, if you wanted…” he offered. A blush was still flaring at his cheeks, eyes wide while they stared at her. Lucy gave him a kind look. 

“Actually, I’d rather just drink alone right now.”

He shrugged. “Alright.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Sure thing.”

She watched him weave through the other patrons back to his friends, before returning her attention to her own drink. 

Oh, Tommy, she shook her head to herself at her lover’s complete overreaction. Though the thought was filled with traces of affection. At least he’d made efforts to fix his mistake.  

She finished off her whiskey, then ordered another. Hopefully the rain would die down by the time she was done, and she could head home without worry of getting drenched. 

By the time that the rain actually stopped, it was dark outside, and a good many of the patrons at the pub had already left, leaving it quiet and empty save for a few occupied tables and booths. Setting some coins down on the bar to pay for her drinks, Lucy hopped off of the barstool, brushing imaginary lint from her coat and pulling her cap from her pocket. As she did, Adam came up to the bar to settle his tab with the barmaid. He gave her a shy smile. 

“Did your friends all leave?” she asked, looking over his shoulder to see that the booth they’d been occupying was empty.

“Just now, yeah.” He forked out some notes from his pocket to hand over to the barmaid, eyes darting anxiously from Lucy to the windows. “I, erm, I could walk you home, if you’d like? Since it’s dark out.”

“Oh, that’s okay, my place is only a few blocks away.”

“It’s no trouble.” 

She inclined her head, smiling a little at the boy’s sweetness, shrugging. “Alright.” 

Leading the way out of the pub and into the crisp evening air, she fell into step beside Adam as they started the walk back to the apartment that she shared with Tommy. Her fingers fumbled at her rings as she wondered whether he would be there waiting for her, or if he would still be at the office. She didn’t think he’d go all the way back to Arrow House without her. Even at his angriest with her, Tommy would never outright abandon her like that. Certainly not in London of all places. 

“I’m sorry about today. Mr. Shelby’s…he can be a little temperamental sometimes, I suppose, but he doesn’t normally do things like that.” They passed under a flickering street lamp. “He’s had a hard year,” she wasn’t sure what else she could offer up in explanation without having to go into far more detail than she was comfortable sharing with Adam.

“It’s alright. My last boss would throw things at us. Sent one of his other secretaries to the hospital when he hit him in the head with a paperweight.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I can at least promise you that Tommy will never do anything like that.” She colored a little at realizing too late that she’d slipped and used his first name. Quickly looking back out at the dark street ahead of them, she hoped that Adam wouldn’t notice. The cobblestones gleamed with lingering moisture from the rain. Neither of them said anything for another block, rounding the corner for her apartment building to come into view at the very end of the street. 

“He’s in love with you, isn’t he?” 

She nearly tripped over her feet and face planted right there on the sidewalk. “What–”

Adam gave her a sad smile, hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. “It’s the way he looks at you,” he said in explanation, like it was obvious. Lucy felt a speckle of horror open up inside of her. They had tried so hard this time around to be subtle…

“Adam,” she wheezed, minorly panicked. “It’s not…I don’t know what you’re talking about. He’s married–” 

Adam shot her a sympathetic, somewhat amused look. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to say anything. I’ve worked with politicians for a few years now. I know how these things work.”

“It’s not…it’s not like that.” For some reason, the idea that he might think that what she had with Tommy was nothing but a dirty affair, akin to what so many of the other politicians did when screwing around behind their wives’ backs, made her feel…cheap. Dirty.

Isn’t that all you really are, though? Just his dirty little secret that he keeps on the side. Even if his wife does know about it and tolerate it. If only just.

She shivered, looking away again. She knew what others probably thought of her. She was sure many looked at her and only saw yet another rich, powerful man’s airheaded mistress. Letting herself be led along, feeding off the empty promises he made that someday, eventually, he would leave his wife for her and they would have a real, happy life together.    

Poor, stupid girl, they whispered behind her back. Doesn’t she know how this always goes? The man never leaves. He never leaves his family for her, and once the wife has had enough and decreed that the affair must end, he’ll throw her out like he has all the others. Maybe get a new model in a few months, and forget all about her. 

That’s how it always goes.

She shook the thoughts away, arms going around her middle. No; that wasn’t them. That wasn’t her and Tommy.        

“I know.” Adam said. At the inquiring look she gave him, he shrugged. “I’ve seen my share of men chasing skirt just for the sport of it. This isn’t that.” 

Lucy swallowed hard. She wondered if he knew how badly she actually had needed to hear that.

“I mean it,” Adam continued. “I won’t say a word to anyone. And not just ‘cos I value my eyes and my tongue.” At her frown, he smiled good naturedly. “You think I didn’t do research into who I was working for?”   

Lucy cast him an impressed look. They’d picked Adam for a reason, after all, but it was only then that it fully dawned on her that he was aware of far more than either she or Tommy had perhaps given him credit for. 

It shouldn’t have been surprising, no one survived long in the political arena–even secretaries–without having a good head on their shoulders. 

“Look, I don’t want any trouble. I just want to do my job and go home at the end of the day, that’s all. Anything you and Mr. Shelby do in your private time isn’t any of my business, as far as I’m concerned.”

Lucy nodded slowly, tongue darting out to wet her lips. “Thank you. We appreciate that.” They had come to the entrance to her apartment building. “This is me,” she said, digging around in her pocket to pull out her keys to the front gate. “Thank you for walking me.”

“It’s no problem.” He glanced over at her apartment building, head tilting back to stare at the windows above, several illuminated by the lights still on inside. “Tell him that I said that it’s alright. And that he doesn’t need to worry. I understand.”

“I will.”

“Have a good night, then, Miss. Winters. I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”

“Right.”

He started to walk away, back the way they’d come. Her grip on her keys tightened, the little jagged grooves digging into her palm. “Adam?”

He turned to look back at her, brow raised curiously.

“I’m sorry,” was all she could think to say. She hated to think that he may be hurt by her relationship with Tommy, and yet she was also relieved that he seemed to fully understand and accept that nothing would ever happen between them.

Adam shrugged. “Don’t be.” 

She nodded, thumbing out the correct key dangling on the ring she was clutching, sliding it into the lock on the gate and pushing it open. When she turned to close it behind her with a soft clang, Adam was already halfway down the road. 

She climbed the stairs slowly, pulling her cap off and tucking it away into her pocket, brushing a few loose red curls out of her eyes.

She opened the door to find the apartment dimly lit, the ornately shaded lamps by the couch in the middle of the sitting room turned on but the curtains drawn. 

Tommy was seated on the crimson colored velvet couch. His suit jacket off and tossed haphazardly over the back of a chair, head in his hands and an over half drunk bottle of whiskey on the table in front of him. His head lifted to stare at her with wide eyes at the sound of the door opening. He watched silently as she moved about, stripping off her coat and hanging it on the hook beside his next to the door. Wriggling out of her suit jacket, she deposited it over the back of one of the armchairs. With a sigh, she went to sit beside him on the couch. Never once did his gaze waver from her.

“You came back,” he said in a quiet voice. Lucy raised an eyebrow. It was obvious that he was drunk, both in the slight glassiness in his eyes, and in the barely noticeable slur to his words. 

“You really thought that I wouldn’t?”

He shrugged miserably, looking down at the table in front of them. “I wouldn’t blame you.”

Frowning, she scooted a little closer to him, reaching out to lay a hand on his shoulder blade. “Tommy…”

“I called Adam and gave him his job back,” he still wouldn’t entirely look at her.

“I know.”

His head raised, brow furrowed. “You do?”

She nodded. “I ducked into a pub to wait out the rain. He was there with a bunch of friends. We chatted a little, and he said that you called him.” She hesitated, not sure how he would take the next bit, but not wanting to keep anything from him. “He walked me home.”

Tommy looked back down. “Oh.”

“Tommy, nothing is ever, ever going to happen between me and him. I don’t even feel that way about him at all, alright? You don’t need to worry.”

“I know.”

“Then why…?”

“Because…because there are dozens of people out there who would actually deserve you.” He didn’t meet her gaze, thumbs playing with each other while he spoke. “And I’m so scared that someday, someone is going to come and take you away from me.” 

Her heart broke a little, both at his words and the sorrowful tone with which he said them. “Oh, love,” she rested a hand on the back of his head. “Look at me,” with gentle pressure from her palm, she encouraged his head to turn until she was met with miserable blue eyes. So full of self hatred that she wanted to squeeze him in her arms and never let him go. “You’ll never lose me.” His lips trembled, eyes widening with unshed tears. Lucy let her forehead lean into his. “Not ever.”

He smelled of whiskey and smoke and melancholy, lashes lowering and head leaning into hers. The rest of his body shifted somewhat so he was more properly facing her, a hand landing on her hip.

“I love you. And I know that you don’t think that you deserve me, but you do. You love me more than anyone else ever has.” She continued, smiling a little when he tried to nuzzle his face more firmly against hers. A teasing gleam entered her eyes. “Besides, you really think that a scrawny little secretary that’s a good ten years younger than me is gonna manage to sweep me off my feet?”

Tommy huffed. “I know. I’m sorry. I overreacted.”

“Mhm.”

Insecurity entered his eyes again. “He wants you, though.”

“Doesn’t mean that he gets me. Besides, he knows about us.”

Tommy stiffened. “How…?”

“Apparently we’re still not as inconspicuous as we’d like to think. Or maybe Adam is just more observant than we gave him credit for. Either way, he knows. He’s not going to say anything. But I do think he is a little scared of you. So, I doubt he’s about to try anything, either. You don’t need to worry about him.” She stroked his cheek. “And like I said earlier, it’s just a stupid crush. It’ll probably pass after a month or two once he finds someone else to capture his interest. He’s not like Lizzie. He knows that there’s nothing that could ever come of this.”

Tommy swallowed hard and nodded slowly, hand lifting to cover hers where it still rested against his cheek, thumb stroking over her knuckles.  

“I’m sorry too.” She leaned back a little so he could see the full genuinity in her face. “I shouldn’t have gotten so angry about it. And I shouldn’t have called you a hypocrite over it either.”

Tommy shook his head, gaze dropping again to fix on the velvet couch cushions under them. They were soft and plush. The couch, despite still being new, was already well broken into by late nights spent cuddling, working, and fucking on it. 

“You were right. I was being a hypocrite. On multiple points.”

“I don’t think that’s entirely fair…”

“Isn’t it? What’s not fair is any of this for you. It’d serve me right if you went and fucked someone else.”

She was momentarily caught off guard and how truly miserable he sounded. So much so that it alarmed her a little. She knew that he felt massively guilty for the nights that he spent with Lizzie and not her. Even if they were few and far between. And even though she’d given him her blessing to do so. He always looked at her like a frightened puppy the morning after, as if expecting her to kick or scream at him and shove him away. But it worried her to think that he was self flagellating himself over it.

“I don’t want to fuck someone else.” She was still open to threesomes, of course–so long as he was with her–but that was different. “I knew there would be some sacrifices I’d have to make when you married Lizzie. It’s okay. I don’t care so long as we still get to be together.”  

Tommy cast her another sad look. “It would be okay if you did.”

“What? Fucked someone else or cared that there are things that I’ve had to give up?”

“Both. Either.” 

Her brows raised. “You’d still love me if I went off and fucked another man?” Considering the temper tantrum he’d just thrown, she didn’t think it was a wholly unreasonable question. 

“Of course I’d still love you. I’d love you no matter what you do.”

She felt herself melt a little. “Even if I blew up the world?”

His lips quirked upwards for the slightest of moments. “Even then.”

She kissed his nose. “You don’t ever have to worry about that, for the record.”

“Which one?”

“Fucking another man. I make no promises about not blowing up the world.”

He snorted, touching her face gently. “You were wrong, you know? I am yours. This,” he touched the ring on his finger, “doesn’t change any of that.”

“Doesn’t it?” 

“Not to me. It’s just a piece of metal. It doesn’t mean anything.” He leaned back a little, hand trailing lazily along her shoulder. “You’re the one I love.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, glassy eyes confirming her statement. “But what’s that thing that they say? Drunken words are sober thoughts.”   

He leaned forward to try to capture her lips with his. Lucy laughed softly, his movements a little uncoordinated, mouth tasting strongly of whiskey when it pressed to hers. She let him kiss her for a moment before pulling back, smiling at the way that he tried to chase her. Those wide eyes the color of a warm ocean blinked up at her hopefully, his thumb tracing circles into her hip.

“We’re alright?”

“Yes, we’re alright, you overprotective idiot.” Her tone was steeped in enough fondness for him to know that she meant it only affectionately. He poked her in the side, brow raising. 

“See? Proof that I love you. If anyone else gave me that sorta cheek I’d have their eyes.” 

She pressed her smiling lips together, as if her big softy of a lover didn’t often let people get away with far more than he probably should. “Of course, sweetheart.”

He let out a rumbling purr at the nickname, leaning into her. All that whiskey he’d been drowning himself in before she showed up seemed to be catching up to him, leaving him all sleepy and cuddly. 

She secretly loved it when he got like this. It was so bloody adorable to see some of the gruff exterior slip away, not even trying to hide the big teddy bear that he secretly was underneath. 

Smiling to herself, Lucy took his face in her hands, angling it up to look at her.

“What?” He asked, catching sight of the adoring look she was giving him. 

“You’re cute.”

He shook his head despite blushing against her hands. “‘M big scary gangster.”

“Mm, yeah, I know.” She chuckled when he draped his arms around her lazily and snuggled into her neck. “The most fearsome of them all.”

“Damn right.”

She laughed, looping her arms around his back to hold him closer to her. She could feel him growing heavier against her, nuzzling a little more into her neck. She stroked the back of his head, where the shaved parts of his hair prickled her skin before giving way to softer, longer strands. “Is the big, fearsome, very drunk gangster sleepy?”

“…Yes.”

“Let’s get you to bed, then.” When he made no move to get up, despite his mumble of agreement, she had to bite back a laugh. “Tommy?”

“Comfortable here.”

“Right, but if we fall asleep on this couch, you’ll get a crick in your neck and my shoulders will be killing me come morning. Bed.”

He whined and pouted a little, but let her navigate him away from where he’d settled against her throat. Standing and pulling him by his hand to his feet, she wrapped her arm around his waist. He wasn’t as unsteady on his feet as she’d feared, arm looping around her shoulders more for closeness than out of actually needing stability. The bedroom was just down a very short hallway that veered off from the sitting room. The canopy bed that greeted them looked particularly comfortable, golden light from the lamps bouncing off the wardrobes pushed up against the walls and the little vanity where she did her hair and makeup in the mornings.

All Tommy did to get ready for bed was strip out of everything save for his underwear, then promptly decide that rather than just wait for her in the bed like a normal person, he wanted to drape himself around her instead. Which made it rather difficult for her to remove her makeup and get out of her own clothes with a tall–well, tall in comparison to her, anyway–and stockily muscled man hanging off of her like a koala. 

“Alright, you loon, you’ve gotta let me go for a second.” She said, giving him a peck to the forehead to dissuade him from pouting too much when she extracted herself from his grasp so she could change. He still sulked at the momentary lapse of physical contact, but seemed pleased when she opted to wear one of his shirts to bed rather than a nightgown, humming happily when she let him nestle back up against her. 

She maneuvered them both into the bed, smiling when he immediately snuggled up to her, his arms around her waist, head on her chest, and body half on top of hers. He almost never allowed his full weight to rest on top of her like that, too afraid of accidentally crushing her. Though honestly, if she had to pick a way to go, being smothered under him didn’t seem half bad. 

“Feeling better?” she asked, stroking gently through his soft dark hair. Tommy nodded, eyes already dropping closed. 

“‘M sorry for being an asshole.”

“It’s okay. Just talk to me next time before you start going around firing people, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry too,” she kissed the top of his head, a smile playing on the edges of her lips when she tipped her head back to rest against the pillows. “You wanna hear something kinda terrible?”

“Hm?”

“I kinda liked it. Not the part where you took things out on a poor boy who hadn’t actually done anything wrong,” she amended quickly. “But it’s just…nice to know that you’d be willing to fight for me.”

He turned his head to kiss her shoulder. “Always. No one touches my girl.” 

She smiled, knowing that the possessiveness in his voice was meant as protective and loving rather than controlling or dehumanizing. 

Tommy tightened his arms around her. “I love you.” 

She traced her fingers along the expanse of his bare, strong back, feeling the smooth skin and the periodic bumps of a scar or beauty mark. “I love you too.” 

He peppered a few kisses along her collarbone before settling again, and it wasn’t long before he was snoring softly against her, the deep rumbles from his chest helping to lull her, until she too fell fast asleep in the comfort of his arms. 

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Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

[horsemage]

I think we should bring back basic etiquette lessons such as shutting the fuck up when you’re watching a movie in a group that is not exclusively your friend group 🙂

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

Do you ever read a post where someone is explaining a pokitical thing and from the way they're saying you know with absolute certainty 1) they got their info from a tumblr post and have never actually followed up on how feasible that information actually is to act upon (they may not even have checked if it was CORRECT, but when they do they have clearly not looked into how easy or hard it may be to follow those instructions with a positive outcome), and 2) you know WHICH tumblr post they're quoting because it is basically a copy/paste of it, and 3) it was YOUR goddamn post and the thing they are saying is entirely counter to the point you were making when you said it to the point that you genuinely wonder if they just like. Memory-holed the entire context once they saw that one itty bitty point.

It's like the motherfuckiny dating apps all over again. I do not want people to love my words if they are not actually willing to do the work of understanding them! Didn't your kindergarten ever make you play Telephone to teach you how heresay falls out????

[running-in-the-dark]

sooooo

I'm 32 now

when can I expect to finally grow out of getting obsessed with men people stuff? I'm waiting....

[hoziersong]

it's tag venting time

[outeremissary]

Tagged by @silversiren1101... sorry to be doing this in the literal middle of the night, I've chosen the "sleep from 9-1, then ????-????" route tonight.

Anyway. The only one is the one you already knew, haha. I'm vaguely aware of alexisonfire and Death Cab for Cutie existing - the latter is a really Tumblr artist, I think I've been told? - but I don't know any more than that. I briefly thought I knew The New Low, but it turns out that what I was remembering was being bizarrely obsessed with the song New Low by Middle Class Rut in middle school.

I edited this on my phone so pardon the sloppiness of a last second swap. This was odd to do because I have a Weird Thing where I don't really listen to music by artist a lot of the time, and I often don't know more than a random scattering of songs or a single album from an artist. Artists I am confident I generally know the discography of are kinda few and far between, and I was much better about being thorough like that in high school... Anyway. A random scattering of stuff. Even I don't know how I determined what made the cut and what didn't for half of this list. I assume I can't do duplicates or Lord Huron would definitely be on here.

The blank. I don't have a lot of people to tag, I guess? @camelliagwerm if you're interested and no one has reached out to you yet

[kameonerd566]

.

[a-b-riddle]

Part Four

Can't stop thinking about reader losing her cool.

"So we're closed, John." You said, trying to be cordial.

"Is that all you have to fucking say?" He practically growled before huffing. A humorless chuckle rumbling out of his chest. "I suppose not since you won't respond to any of us."

"Don't do that." You said taking a step back. Trying to create some distance between you and him. John would never physically hurt you. That much you knew.

"What?" He asked. His voice rising as he stepped closer to you. "Be angry that you pulled that shit and then left? Stopped talking to us. Changed your fucking locks. Last thing we even knew about you was that you got on a fucking plane and left. Even your friends wouldn't tell us anything besides that you were okay." "Which considering this came out of bloody nowhere, I find it highly unlikely that you are in any way 'okay'."

You took a deep breath. You wouldn't be intimidated. You wouldn't clam up. You wouldn't cry. You won't go back on your decision. You will be cordial and polite and not unleash everything you want to.

"I understand you might be upset, but it's for the best. It wasn't working out and I wanted to end on somewhat good terms. I would appreciate it if you lowered your voice and stopped speaking to me in that way." You could barely recognize your voice. It sounded so scripted. So robotic. But it was something you had been telling yourself. Excuses you had been telling yourself.

Because if you told yourself the truth. The picture you would paint would tell a different story. It wouldn't highlight the fact that John spoke to you like he was one of your men or that Johnny had the emotional capacity of a teaspoon. It wouldn't show what a flake Kyle was or that Simon was well and truly a mean-spirited person.

It would show how you weren't worth it. Four possible men. Four possibilities of happily ever after and none of them chose you. That no one ever did and no one ever would. You weren't worth it. You weren't loveable.

It wasn't right, but it was what the voices had been telling you late in the night. When you would crawl into your cold bed. The silence of the room not filled with John's steady breathing or the sound of Kyle's heartbeat as you laid you head on his chest. The absence of Johnny's occasional snoring or whatever Simon was watching playing in the background of your dreams.

In the void, all your dark thoughts came back at you.

"Upset?" He asked, his voice still louder than you would have liked. "An understatement considering the stunt you pulled."

"You think it was a stunt?"

"So Johnny thought with his dick and didn't plan things out. You should have told him instead of crying to Simon and then pulling this shit." "Christ, I knew you were still young, but I didn't take you for that immature."

"You know what?" "I'm done." "I am so fucking sick of making excuses for you all." "You want to act like I'm the immature one, John?" "You are 35-year-old man who cannot separate his work from his work like. You have continuously talked to and down to me like I am one of your men, only to turn around and always blame your shitty fucking attitude on work. I get that your job is stressful, but I did not sign up to be your verbal fucking punching bag."

"And this come and fucking go incident with Johnny. It has been a consistent issue with him coming over just to fuck. I've asked him for that last six months that 'hey, we've been seeing each other for a year and a half, I would love to meet your family' and suddenly the dates stop. He doesn't ask to see me until after 7 PM. He brings food occasionally, fucks me and leaves. Sometimes before I even wake up."

"And the only reason Kyle is the person I am the least pissed off with is because I haven't even seen him." You took a step closer, not noticing how the anger in John's eyes had softened. "I have not seen Kyle in weeks, to no fault of my own. I stopped reaching out to make dinner plans after the third time he canceled on a date night when I was either on my way or already at the restaurant."

"And Simon?" You scoffed. "Well, it doesn't really matter. After all, as he said I get mine. You all make me cum which is supposed to magically erase how shitty you've all been as partners. It's supposed to erase the nights I've cried myself to sleep debating on whether or not there was something wrong with me. How I'm not good enough to meet anyone else in your lives like some dirty fucking secret. How none of you can even bother to pencil me for a group dinner so I can tell you a publishing house picked up my book. How at some point you all stopped caring or maybe never did."

You took a breath. Blinking quickly to keep the tears at bay.

You wouldn't cry. You wouldn't cry.

"As Simon said it best, I should have known that spreading my legs wouldn’t end with one of you putting a ring on your finger.”

For once, John was silent. Unsure of what to say. An apology starting to form at the tip of his tongue before realizing 'sorry' wouldn't cut it. Not this time.

Had he really been that sharp with you? He knew that there were times he had gotten short, but he almost always apologized immediately after. If not at the very moment he took in your crest-fallen face, then definitely later. But he almost always told you he was sorry. Didn't he?

"So as I said," you swallowed down the lump in your throat. "I'm closed. We're done. Now get out." Your face held no sadness. Even though your eyes were nearly full to the brim with unshed tears, you weren't sad.

You were finally angry.