#and I need to remind everyone about it forever

[epicthemusicalstuff]

I CRYUNG I NEED SOMEONE TO SUM UP ALL ETM SONGS MY. MEMORY + ATTENTION SPAN IS SO BAD

Let’s speed run epic the musical so far!! (It’s under the cut cause even a summary is gonna take a bit for 35 songs-)

Horse and the Infant:

Giant horse- ATTACK! ZEUS?!?! What are you doing here? I have to kill a baby? But he’s just a little thing-

Just a Man:

This little boy reminds me of my son. Is killing him the morally correct thing to do? Yeet.

Full Speed Ahead:

Let’s introduce our main cast! Wow! Polites- Eurylochus- Odysseus! BFFs forever! We’re hungry- let’s go to this island and look for food!

Open Arms:

Wow Odysseus, you are looking hella tense, maybe you should try being nice and not so mistrustful. Look at these little creatures eating lotus fruit- wow this fruit is bad for you- let’s go to this cave to find food!

Warrior of the Mind:

Athena and Odysseus back story. Odysseus, your actions aren’t very Warrior of the Mind coded. Don’t disappoint me.

Polyphemus:

Let’s kill these Sheep!! NOOO! Scary Cyclops, we killed his sheep, now he will kill us.

Survive:

HES GOT A CLUB. He is killing us- NO POLITES. Oh, Polyphemus is asleep now cause he drank spiked wine.

Remember Them:

Odysseus tricks Polyphemus. They almost get away, and then he GIVES OUT HIS FULL NAME, JOB POSITION, ADRESS, AND SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER.

My Goodbye:

Athena is disappointed and they have a big messy friend break up.

Storm:

There is a big storm. Wow! A floating island! Let’s go!

Luck Runs Out:

Captain, you keep taking risks and not thinking this through. What happens if your plans fail?

Keep Your Friends Close:

Hahahahahaha! Here is a bag of wind! Don’t open it! Oh- the winions told you to open it? No!! Penelope- I’m hallucinating! Darn- the bag is opened.

Ruthlessness:

You hurt my son. So now I’m gonna kill most of your men. What’s this- a daring escape? Well- I’ll get you sooner or later-

Puppeteer:

An island. Let’s explore! Oh no- scary lady, she turned us into pigs! Let’s run Captain! Or not I guess.

Wouldn’t You Like:

Hey kid, this scary lady could kill you. How about some magic drugs? Totally safe and all.

Done For:

We are evenly matched- big magic fight! Wow! The magic drugs Hermes gave you really are something. Are you trying to seduce me?

There Are Other Ways:

Wow, you really are trying to seduce me. Too bad- I have a wife I love. Wait- you’ll help us? THE UNDERWORLD WHAT?

The Underworld:

We are haunted by everyone we have lost- Polites- wait- MOM?!? I’m too late-

No Longer You:

This dead prophet should tell me what we want to know- wait- what no- this is actually terrible? We came to you for help but now you’re saying you can’t help us? WHO?!a

Monster:

Maybe Poseidon was onto something, and we do have to be ruthless. Welp, time to become the monster y’all.

Suffering:

Ooo, Penelope, I love you, but you know I’m too shy. I don’t want to get in the water-

Different Beast:

SURPRISE I KNEW YOU WERENY MY WIFE. I actually did become the monster, and now I’m going to kill all your friends you Siren!

Scylla:

This is the only way home. Eurylochus, what do you mean you opened the wind bag back in Keep Your Friends Close. Light six torches- oh no, a giant monster is eating our crew. Me and her are the same you know.

Mutiny:

Captain why did you do that? Fight fight fight! Oh no- Odysseus has been stabbed. I’m hungry, let’s eat cows. Oh no, they were a gods cows. We knew that but still ate them. Now Zeus is gonna kill us.

Thunders Bringer:

Zeus is here. You can live, or your crew can live. But like- Penelope. Sorry crew. Crew dies.

Legendary:

It’s me! Telemachus! I never knew my dad- I wish I could know my dad. All these suitors want to marry my mom. I wish I could fight them. DONT CALL MY MOTHER A TRAMP!

Little Wolf:

Fight Little Wolf Fight- we are going to beat you up just cause you were in the way. WOW. ATHENA?? What are you doing here- we haven’t seen you since the second saga! Ow.

We’ll Be Fine:

I’m going to help you cause I feel guilty about your dad. Bet. We are best friends now. Go find my dad.

Love In Paradise:

Rewind- Morning! You were asleep. I’m in love with you now. Ew back away I have a wife. You’re a goddess??? Oh no- now I’m really depressed. I’m haunted by the ghosts again- ATHENA!

God Games:

Zeus- father- release Odysseus. *lots of convincing Gods* NO, YOU DID WHAT I ASKED SO NOW IM MAD. LIGHTNING BOLT. Is she- dead?

I’m Not Sorry For Loving You:

Yes I kept you trapped against you power, but I loved you- why won’t you love me back? It’s not like you have a whole literally family waiting for you-

Dangerous:

HAHAHAHA. Hello old friend! Let’s do some cool dance moves as I tell you how you will get back home. Here is a wind bag 2.0! Let’s hope you don’t have issues with it this time!

Charybdis:

Another obstacle!! But I know how to beat you!! Woo! I see home- I’m almost there! WAIT NO! NOT AGAIN!

Get In The Water:

Poseidon! Please let me get home- I already told Siren Penelope, I don’t want to get in the water! Can’t we get along? No! Drowning-

Six Hundred Strike:

Use the wind bag! I’m out of the water! SIX HUNDRED STRIKE! You’re beat Poseidon- let me go home. What’s this? You won’t. TIME FOR VIOLENCE. Stab. Stab. Stab. Next to my WIFE.

[kaliforniahigh]

Can imagine Noah making you jealous (not on purpose) and YOU come home and make HIM beg and whimper for you!!! “Say who you belong to Noah!!” 🥵🥹

Warning: reader calls a woman "bitch" once.

You don't get jealous all that often, but it's the boldness of some people that gets on your nerves. And Noah's obliviousness to it sometimes.

You've been observing their interaction from afar. Noah and her weren't even friends. She was just someone that came around from time to time, usually when there was a party of some sort. You knew she's been trying to shoot her shot even before you and Noah got together.

Now, she knew Noah was taken, and still flirted with him.

Later on in the night, after everyone had already left, you had Noah on his back, naked on the bed. Your hands roaming all over. He really thought he was gonna get it easy tonight.

"You like having my hands on you?", you asked.

"You know I love it, baby"

"Yeah, I know you do", you said, with a more condenscending tone. "Like it when I run my hands up and down your arms?", you placed both hands on his biceps, and you felt him involuntarily flex under your touch. You seethed at the though of that bitch feeling him this way. "You like it more when that stupid girl is touching you?"

You looked at him and saw his expression change from lust to confusion, brows furrowing.

"What do you mean?", he asked, turning his head to meet your eyes better.

"Oh, don't play coy with me now", you narrowed your eyes at him, shaking your head. "I saw her talking to you earlier. I saw her running her hand up and down your arm while you just stood there and took it"

"Who are you talking about?", you could tell he was genuinely confused, and you didn't know if that pissed you off even more.

You grabbed his chin with your hands, pressing your forehead with his.

"Does the name Mia ring a bell? Or are you going to keep pretending you don't know what I'm talking about?", you hissed a little, and he would be lying if he said your jealousy wasn't turning him on even more.

"Oh, Mia. You know I want nothing to do with Mia", he maintained eye contact, trying to get it through your head.

"I don't know. I think I need a reminder"

"I'll give you whatever you need, baby", he brought one of his arm to wrap around your waist, pulling your bodies closer together. The moment shifted a little, you weren't as angry anymore, and he recognized you needed more reassurance than anything else. He knows you usually don't care when girls hit on him, it comes with the territory. But for you to be so bothered now, there has to be something else eating at you.

"Tell me you're mine", you requested, voice losing it's edge, getting softer and more vulnerable.

"I'm yours baby. You know I belong to you. Heart, body and soul", he cupped your face in his hands, rubbing soft circles on the top of your cheek.

"And no one's ever going to change that, right?", you asked.

"No one's ever going to change that. No one's ever going to take me away from you. I'm yours forever, baby"

You kissed him for the first time since you both made your way to the bedroom. He kissed you thoroughly, conveying his emotions and reassurance through his lips and tongue exploring your mouth.

[amourtoken]

You NEED to do Quinn’s abc’s

YOURE RIGHTTTTT these are so fun I have so many in the drafts lol

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He's the softest ever. Literally ever. It doesn't matter how hard he was fucking you or how rough he got with his words, the second it's over he's already taking on that softie persona again. He'll hold you close and kiss all over your face, complimenting you and praising you for doing so good for him. If you need anything, he'll get it for you, you're not allowed to so much as lift a finger. He always offers up one of his shirts for you so you don't have to go through the effort of getting totally dressed up, you can just throw it on and get back to being curled up in his arms where you really belong.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Your eyes are definitely a contender for his favorite part of your body. He's big on eye contact and the way he gets so easily lost in your pretty eyes when you're under him or looking up at him is forever impressive. No view will ever top the sight of you looking up at him through tears while he chokes you on his cock and he stands by that. On himself it's probably his hands, they're versatile and look so nice laced with yours or wrapped around your waist he can't help it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Ik he probably lives off of caffeine and Gatorade but his cum tastes really fucking nice. Salty sweet, not disgustingly bitter like some people (thank god) and he's more than happy to cum in your mouth if you ask nicely

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He really secretly loves being taken care of but he's made it more obvious in recent times tbh. If he comes home exhausted and you wanna ride him while he relaxes and press kisses all over his face, reminding him how much you love him and how much you appreciate him he's thrilled. Sometimes he just needs to be taken care of like he does for everyone else.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He's definitely got some experience. The first time you fucked he had you experiencing feelings you never even imagined, it was like he knew your body better than you even did the way he was manipulating you. You imagine he couldn't do that if he were inexperienced but he refuses to elaborate citing "it's the past and what matters is the present" so you try not to think of it too hard.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

I'm on the fence abt this one but I think he's a missionary fan lol but he spices it up yk it's not just pure vanilla. He'll throw one of your legs over his shoulders to make sure he hits as deep as he can and rlly if he's energetic youre definitely getting folded into a mating press for sure. Being into cowgirl ig runs in the family cause I'm convinced all 3 of the hughes love having you ride them too.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Hes relatively serious in most instances but it's 50/50. If he's in a rlly good mood he's picking you up to sit you on the kitchen counter, your legs around his waist while his face is against your neck and you can feel him smiling against your skin between kisses. He can be rlly light hearted till things get too heated then he sort of loses himself in the moment.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I really don't think he cares too much about it but for your sake he doesn't let it get too out of control yk? He's definitely not shaving entirely ever but it's just enough.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Honestly there's really two sides to Quinn, he's either the softest most attentive and sweet lover you've ever had or he's choking you out in the sheets and taking out every ounce of aggression stored in his body on you. Typically it completely depends on how he's been playing but there's some nights where he comes home off a loss and just wants you to ride him and tell him he's doing a good job and that you love him. More often than not he's being as generous as possible and making you cum in every way he can think while he drowns you in kissed though, he's a hopeless romantic for sure.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn't really feel the need to now that you're around but before you moved in with him he'd do it on occasion. It was never really a big thing for him in the first place, but if he were really needy he'd do it just to do it. Nothing rlly special about it though. He'd much rather you jack him off now if anything, bucking his hips against your smaller hand is so much nicer than fucking his own fist to the thought of you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

facesitting for sure. Pls god just let him eat you out for hours till he's satisfied. Other than that I think exhibitionism lightly like I say next.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

If he has the choice he'll always pick his bedroom first but dare I say Quinnifer is into a Lil bit of exhibitionism? He'll fuck you on the deck of the lake house, his car, the locker room at practice if he's feeling extra adventurous, rlly anywhere given the right opportunity tbh.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You as a whole gets him going but if he sees you dressed up for an event or wearing one of his jerseys he's automatically dragging you back to bed. Seeing you cheering for him at games and making it incredibly known that you're all his thats rlly what does it for him. You're his girl and he'll never get enough of how proud you are of it.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He's never gonna hurt you. He has absolutely no desire for pain play of rlly any kind and sure he'll choke you or slap your ass if you want but he's not gonna rough you up too hard. He finds no joy in you being in anything but pure bliss.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He would happily die buried between your legs but good god the feel of your mouth on him is worth giving everything up for too. LOVES 69 cause it's the best of both worlds but ultimately he's eating you out for his own pleasure and he doesn't need you to suck him off at all if you don't wanna. He gets off by giving.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

TYPICALLY he's pretty sensual, takes his time with you and draws out your pleasure as much as he can but if he's coming home off a loss or a tough practice and the whole day has been stomping his nerves, he's fucking you to your absolute limits. That's when you get dom Quinn for sure, but the aftercare is so worth it.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Theyre pretty common unfortunately bc he's always running around to practices or media presences. If he can get it in with you he's going to and he'll make up for it later with a longer session.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Like i said, he loves a lik exhibitionism and gets off knowing you technically could be caught but you're always just fast enough or far away enough to get away with it. If there's something you wanna try, he's open to everything at least once and he'll never turn you down unless he's worried about your safety. Consent is sexy.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he can go as long as you can handle him tbh, he's he's athlete so his stamina is fantastic. Some nights he's just too tired to go multiple rounds though and can you blame him?? He's on his feet all day.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He didn't own any before he met you but he's definitely a big fan of remote vibrators now cause he can bring you to your knees across a room and act like he has absolutely nothing to do with it. He's evil. Anything he can use to his advantage to help make you feel the best you can hes very happy to use.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He's the fucking king of teasing and you've learned not to dish out what you cant take cause if you think your teasing is bad, Quinn will bring you to tears. If he's feeling evil enough he'll fuck your thighs just to get himself off and have you continue waiting till he feels like you deserve to cum.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Hes less of a loud moaner and more of a groaner if that makes sense. He'll bury his face in your neck and all you can hear are strangled growls and his voice breaking against your skin. He's very mouthy though, he'll praise you till his last breath and make sure you know he loves how you feel.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Would be willing to share you with Jack or Luke for a night. Refuses to elaborate further. (Maybe he's planning something? Your bday is coming up isn't it?)

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Mans is ABSOLUTELY packin for sure. 7ish inches probably? He's thick and heavy in your hand and the pretty pink tip leaks when you stroke him (i need him so fucking bad). He's also got this thick vein that runs up the side and the sounds he makes when you lave your tongue over it are downright pornographic

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He's so head over heels for you there's genuinely never a moment rlly where he'd turn you down. Even if he's exhausted at the very least he'd love for you to ride his thigh and make out with him just so he could hear the sounds you'd make. He's always looking at you with all the love in the world in his eyes and it's so sweet :(

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Immediately if he had it his way cause usually he's had an insanely long day prior and just wants to crash but he always takes time to get some good aftercare in for you no matter what.

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 22: This Misery We've Made

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: It's Tommy and Lizzie's wedding day.

Word Count: 4,667

Notes: I cried while writing most of this chapter. Friendly reminder that Lucy is suffering from severe depression and C-PTSD after what happened to her in the previous part, and therefore cannot be considered an entirely reliable narrator. Her self esteem is nonexistent and her thoughts are only a reflection of what her fucked up brain is causing her to think, not actually what Tommy feels. Warnings for depictions of insecurity, jealousy, depression, and references to self harm.

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Chapter 3: The Bells

The bells were ringing overhead. Echoing in a thunderous clang for all to hear. The sound of them was intended to announce a joyous occasion. Something to be met with celebration. 

Lucy was not in a particularly celebratory mood. 

She stood with her back resting against the shaded side of the church, the cigarette in her hand poised to soon join the others she’d already dropped to the ground after they became too small to properly grip. Her eyes followed the well dressed guests walking up from their cars towards the big double doors that lead into the chapel. None of them paid her even a parting glance, the angle and shade of the church shielding her from view.   

She was hiding. From Tommy. From Lizzie. From everyone. She didn’t want to ruin their happy day with her melancholy. Casting a glance at her watch, she drew in a trembling breath at the realization that she would have to go inside soon. 

Dread built within her, creating a pressure that felt moments away from bursting. It had been there since Tommy had proposed to Lizzie, growing steadily by the day like a tumor.

She let her most recent cigarette drop into the grass, grinding it down under her heel to make sure it didn’t spark. Wouldn’t that be something? She could see the headlines now: Lover of MP About to be Married Sets Church on Fire. 

The crunch of grass under a set of shoes alerted her to footsteps approaching. She didn’t need to look up to know who it was. She’d know him by gait alone. 

“I’ve been looking for you,” Tommy said softly, once he’d come to a stop beside her.

“Sorry,” Lucy mumbled, looking down at her nails, freshly painted their usual shade of bright red for the occasion. Picking at an imaginary speck of lint on her oxford blue dress, she avoided having to look up at him. 

Tommy’s hands were sheathed in the pockets of his carefully tailored wedding suit, eyes boring into her. “Are you alright?”

She forced herself to plaster on some semblance of happiness–and if not that, then at least serenity–onto her face before raising it to finally look at him. “Of course.”

Tommy just frowned, moving so that he was standing in front of her, taking care to keep them both still hidden within the shadows of the church. His hands came to rest on her upper arms, smoothing up and down before slipping around her back, pulling himself in closer to her until their foreheads were touching. Lucy closed her eyes, swallowing around the immovable lump in her throat and resting her palms on his waist.

“We can still call it off,” he whispered, warm breath fanning out across her cheeks.

Lucy shook her head, trying to remind herself of the things he’d told her last night. “It’s okay.”

His thumb was rubbing circles into the lower part of her back, attempting to soothe her. 

“I will love you forever,” he promised, and she felt her lower lip start to quiver, eyes filling with tears that she furiously blinked away. She nodded jerkily, angling her face up to kiss him. 

“I will love you forever too,” she murmured. For a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had fallen away, and it was just them, standing in their own little bubble where nothing and no one could touch them. Not even the sound of the bells ringing overheard.

She made a move to pull away, but his grip on her tightened, holding her in place against him firmly so that he could kiss her again. The last kiss they would share that would not be tainted by his bonds and marriage to another woman. 

“It’s time,” Lucy said after they parted. Why did it feel as though she were sending him off to his death? Like she would never see him again; never hold or kiss or even touch him. Like she was about to lose him forever. 

Tommy nodded, expression that of a man about to make his final walk to the gallows. He kissed her forehead firmly, and, with blatant reluctance, loosened his grip on her. 

It took nearly all her willpower for Lucy to force herself to take that first step away from him. Then another and another, grass rustling under the small heels she was wearing. Tears brimmed at her lash line, but by some miracle she swallowed them down. Her arms wrapped around herself, trying through the makeshift embrace to soothe herself. She did not look back. If she did, she knew she would run to him, throw her arms around his neck, and never let him go.

It would be fine, she just had to keep reminding herself of that. He had promised.

So why did it feel like they’d just broken up? 

Keeping her head down, she slipped into the church, quietly finding a spot in the pews close to the doors next to Ada.

She could barely watch the ceremony. In her lap, her hands gripped each other so tightly that the nails dug into and broke the skin. Tommy entered and went to stand at the end of the altar, hands clasped at his front and expression unreadable. Jeremiah was standing behind him, dressed in his robes and prepared to officiate, while Arthur stood to Tommy’s left, once again serving as best man for his younger brother. To the right, one of Lizzie’s sisters had taken the place for the maid of honor. Lucy could sense Tommy’s gaze darting to her every once in a while, but couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Instead her eyes remained downcast, entire body stock still. 

Lizzie looked utterly radiant in her white wedding gown, her eyes dancing with uninhibited joy, the biggest smile Lucy had ever seen splitting her face. The dread inside Lucy tripled, twisting sickly inside of her. 

Lizzie came to a stop beside Tommy at the altar, fixing him with a look of such deep love that Lucy had to quickly look away.

What have we done?

Ada gave her shoulder a squeeze, and while she did not have the energy to properly acknowledge the gesture, she was thankful for it nonetheless.   

It was a quick ceremony, thankfully. Only the necessities. At the sound of Tommy’s deep voice reciting his vows to Lizzie, Lucy’s eyes squeezed shut. 

He had made promises to her, that was true. But he was now in the process of making ones to Lizzie as well. And he would not be able to keep some of those promises to one woman without breaking the ones he’d made to the other. He was going to have to choose. 

Lucy twisted one of her rings around her finger. It was a position she had never wanted to put him in. 

The saying of the vows and the exchanging of the rings ended, and Jeremiah’s voice boomed throughout the church as he announced the new union of Tommy and Lizzie as husband and wife. Cheers erupted from both sides of the rows of spectators. Polly nearly flew out of her seat with the force in which she stood, clapping her hands together and beaming. 

So different from when Tommy had married Grace, Lucy couldn’t help but think. She wondered, not for the first time, what exactly it was Lizzie had that she and Grace didn’t, which had so earned her Polly’s undying adoration, love, and approval. 

That’s it. It’s done, Lucy thought to herself, somehow managing to remember to bring her hands together in quiet, numb little claps against each other. 

It felt like something had just died. Like her whole life up until that point had been one long sentence, and a period had just been placed at the end of it. Something was changed. Ended. Gone. Maybe forever. 

What it was, she wasn't entirely sure. Did she really think that all it took was a few vows and a ring to murder Tommy’s love for her? No, not really. But it still felt as though something had shifted in the air. A hollowness had widened inside her, like something had been ripped away. Her face screwed up slightly as she tried to figure out what it was. 

The rest of the family started to gather up their things to follow the bride and groom outside and head down the street to the hotel where the reception was being held. She was watching the family shuffle towards the door, chattering, laughing, and smiling amongst each other, not one of them sparing her a parting glance, when it dawned on her entirely what she’d just lost.

Her and Tommy’s life together was gone. This was how all public encounters would be from now on. Tommy and Lizzie, connected with their arms linked or hands entwined, able to touch and talk and laugh with each other as much as they pleased. And the family would orbit around them. They all loved Lizzie. Accepted her. Approved of her as a partner in Tommy’s life. Lucy might as well be left locked outside, able to do little more than peer in through a window while the family gathered together. It would have the same effect. She was not naive enough to believe that she had previously ever been invited into anything they did together for reasons other than her being at Tommy’s side. A space that Lizzie now filled. 

The only moments she and Tommy could have together anymore would be in private rooms and dark, shadowy corners. No more touching when others could see them. No more mumbled jokes into ears, or sitting next to each other. No more kisses when there was a risk that someone else might see them. No more dates. Hell, probably never even another vacation spent together. 

That was all over. All she would get of him anymore were the crumbs that Lizzie left behind. Rare slivers of moments when he had the time.

She remained in her seat in the church, hands hanging limply over the wooden banister, eyes staring into space while the final few guests filtered out the doors, leaving her alone.

The bells had taken up their ringing once more. Lucy wondered if they rang them for funerals as well as weddings. Fitting, either way, considering that both had just taken place.

Still sitting there, she finally allowed her tears to overspill and run down her cheeks. Leaning forward with her head on her arms, she sobbed alone, the sounds of her mournful cries drowned out by the cacophony of the wedding bells. 

∗ ∗ ∗

They all love her so much. 

Lucy couldn’t entirely keep the bitterness out of the thought as she watched the Shelbys encircle Lizzie, practically oozing adoration and excitement at being able to finally welcome her officially to the family. 

Lucy quickly turned away, cutting through the crowd to get to the bar and order what she suspected to be the first of many glasses of whiskey she would consume over the evening. 

After ensuring there was no evidence of the tears she shed at the church, she’d finally made her way to the room that the reception was being held in. The place was jam packed with guests. Not only were all the Shelbys there for the occasion, but so were the small handful of Lizzie’s friends and family, as well as a good share of Tommy’s colleagues from Westminster, and various business partners and associates. 

It was her primary goal this evening to avoid everyone. Including Tommy. She would probably just stick around for dinner and then sneak away. They had paid for rooms at the hotel for all the guests that wanted to spend the night, but Lucy frankly just wanted to go home. At the very least her dogs and cat were there to keep her company. She would tell someone–probably Ada–when she was off so that they would know where she went. Assuming that they even noticed her missing at all, of course. 

“Lucy, can I speak with you for a moment?”

She started, hand tightening reflexively around her glass of whiskey. Lizzie had snuck up behind her without her even noticing, too lost in musing over her plans of escaping the event early. Lucy stared up at her like a deer in headlights, eyes wide. She suddenly felt even shorter than usual. On a normal day, Lizzie towered over her, but in heels and her wedding dress, she seemed even taller and more regal than usual. 

She truly did look every bit the part of the new Queen of Birmingham. 

“Sure,” Lucy said, having to clear her throat in order to get the word out. Lizzie took her firmly by the arm and began to steer her away into a side room that was unoccupied. 

“I wanted to ask you, since we arranged for Ruby’s things to be moved into Arrow House while we’re away, if you would be willing to move rooms,” Lizzie wasted no time on small talk, immediately stating her request the moment that the door was closed. Her fingers traced over the wedding bands on her left ring finger. Lucy wondered if it was an unconscious movement, or if she was trying to remind her of her place. “I want her room to be closer to mine, you see. In case she needs anything in the middle of the night.” 

Lizzie had been by the house earlier to get more familiar with it, and to choose her room. The main master bedroom they once shared with Grace was off limits, but she had her pick of any of the others. She had chosen a large room next door to the one Tommy and Lucy normally occupied. 

She hadn’t been bothered when they informed her that her choice of room was next to theirs. Had she been planning to ask Lucy to move even then?

She gave a slight shake of her head. You’re being paranoid, she scolded herself. Lizzie’s thought process made sense. Ruby ought to be close to her mother’s room. 

“Yes, of course, that’s fine. I’ll tell Francis when I get back–”

“I already told her,” Lizzie cut her off. “And I already picked out another room for you. I told them to move your things today while we were out.”

Then why did you bother asking? Lucy mused internally, but bit her tongue.

“I hope that’s alright,” Lizzie added, and Lucy immediately felt bad for thinking the worst of her. Especially when she was probably just trying to ensure that Ruby was able to get settled as quickly as possible. 

“Oh, it’s…fine.”

Lizzie smiled, reaching out to squeeze her arm. “Thank you.” From outside, there was the sound of someone announcing that dinner was to be served soon, asking everyone to find their seats. “We ought to go.”

Lucy nodded, and followed her out the door, lingering back a little while Lizzie dashed off to go to the table reserved at the far end of the room for her and Tommy. Circular tables were scattered all throughout the room, and Lucy began to weave carefully around them. Notecards sat atop each place setting, inscribed with each guest's name written in delicate calligraphy to indicate their assigned seat.  

All of the Shelbys were seated near the front, right by Tommy and Lizzie’s table. All except for her, notably. She found her notecard at a table near the back, placed about as far away from Tommy and Lizzie’s table as it was possible for her to be. She stared down at it, rubbing her thumb across the golden loops of her name as if that would somehow encourage it to change. 

Sighing, she sank down into her chair, sharing an awkward smile with the other guests at the table, none of which she knew. Sneaking a glance to the other side of the room, she eyed the Shelbys all sitting at their table together, chuckling at something Arthur was saying. The ache of feeling left out pinched at her heart.  

I’m not a Shelby. I’m not family, she reminded herself, though it did nothing to soothe the sting. 

There was a tug in her mind so strong that it was impossible to ignore. She’d been feeling them all day. Little nudges and pulls that were trying to get her attention. Begging her to please, just look at me. And yet also not wanting to push, trying to respect her space and leave her be to process what was happening.    

But this was much more of a considerable yank, as if the person on the other end of the bond was a little panicked. 

He didn’t know where she was, she realized. He was looking for her in the crowd and couldn’t find her, and was panicking that she’d left. 

Guilt welled up inside her, because had that not been exactly what she was planning on doing once dinner was over? Disappearing without even a goodbye, and wholly believing that Tommy would not notice if she was gone. 

What’s wrong with me? It was not the first time she had asked herself that. Why, no matter how many times he reassured her, could she not bring herself to fully believe him? She did in the moment, when his sweet words washed over her and he curled his body around hers in a protective, loving embrace that left her feeling warm and cherished. But the doubt always came back. 

 He said he loved her. He said he would never leave her. He had given her no reason not to believe him. So why couldn’t she?

Her fingers curled into a small fist, nails biting into the flesh of her palm; an attempt to punish herself for her ridiculous thoughts and even worse behavior. 

She forced her eyes to raise from her plate, focusing across the room at Tommy. He was sitting up in his chair next to Lizzie, gaze scanning across the room, not really listening as his bride chatted giddily into his ear. His brow was knit, lips pulling down into a worried frown. 

I’m here, she pulled gently on the indescribable bond between them, giving a small tug to the little red string tying them together. She had never spent much effort in trying to puzzle out what exactly the bond between them was. It had just always been there, even before she actually knew him.

His blue gaze snapped to her almost instantly, but his frown only deepened as he noticed where she was sitting.  

The fuck are you doing all the way over there?

She held up the little note card to him in answer to his silent question. His gaze narrowed, lips parting, and she realized with horror that he was about to kick up a fuss to try to have her moved. 

No! Don’t!

His mouth closed. Why not?

Think of how it will look! 

So? You’re family. You ought to be seated as such. I want you close to me.

I don’t want to upset her. It’s supposed to be her day, Tommy. It’s fine, don’t worry about me.

The look on his face said that he very much did worry, but he thankfully kept his mouth shut, leaning back in his chair and casting her a regretful, apologetic look before his attention was pulled away by Lizzie.   

Dinner was awkward, given that no one at her table seemed all that interested in talking with her. Lucy instead busied herself with pushing her fish around on her plate, her appetite evaporated. Once it was over, the band started up playing, and Tommy and Lizzie made their way onto the dancefloor for their first dance as husband and wife. People stood from their tables to gather around to watch, and Lucy took the chance to slip away, ducking back into the side room Lizzie had taken her to before dinner.   

Rooting around in the little black clutch she’d brought with her, she snuck her fingers past the small gun tucked away inside to fish out her cigarettes and lighter. Upon cracking open the window to let the smoke out she was met with a rush of chilly evening air from outside. Goosebumps rose up on the skin or her arms despite the long sleeves of her dress, but she ignored them, perching herself on the windowsill to gaze down at the dark street below. 

She would need to get a driver to take her home. It would be late by the time that she finally got back to the house, but she doubted that she would be sleeping much tonight anyway. 

Her fingers squeezed a little around her cigarette. She had been trying not to think about the wedding night. Ever since they’d gotten together, she and Tommy had a rule regarding bringing others into their bed: they would not sleep with someone else unless they were both present. It was a rule they’d both followed steadfastly. Except with Grace, after they moved to Arrow House with her. But that had been different. 

Grace would never have tried to rip her and Tommy apart.

It was a rule that was about to be broken. And even though she’d agreed to it, it still hurt. Whether it was simply the idea of Tommy sleeping with Lizzie without her, or Lizzie’s rejection of her being permitted to still be involved–they’d had plenty of threesomes with Lizzie in the past, after all–she could not entirely say. She had never handled feeling left out well, and try as she might, she could not bring herself to wholly trust Lizzie.

Despite his promises, would Tommy really be able to prevent Lizzie from driving a wedge between them? She was his wife. And Ruby’s mother. And Charlie’s step-mother. He needed to keep her happy. Lucy was his…what? His mistress, she supposed. The other woman. His dirty little secret. 

She had once mused to herself how miserable it must be to be the mistress of a married man. So much of their lives doomed to be spent alone, only able to enjoy brief, fleeting moments with the person that they loved. 

She understood a little better now. You take what you can get of them, because even a few seconds together was better than nothing at all. 

She was going to have to get used to it. While Tommy said things would go mostly back to normal once they got back from Paris, she wasn’t so sure. He only planned to spend limited nights with Lizzie, and the door was still open for all three of them to fuck if they all wanted, but Lucy doubted Lizzie would be that amiable to the idea. 

And what if either of them changed their minds?

That was all it would take to eradicate Lucy’s involvement with Tommy entirely. She could imagine it already: them, returning from their honeymoon, Tommy taking her by the hands and gently leading her away, telling her he was sorry. He wouldn’t be unkind about it, but that would not hinder him from speaking the words that would shatter her heart. 

It was not out of the realm of possibility that he would realize during the honeymoon that he favored Lizzie over her. Honestly, she was still shocked that it hadn’t happened yet. Because when push came to shove she knew she wasn’t anywhere close to as pretty as Lizzie. No one in their right mind would choose Lucy over her. And that wasn’t even factoring in the children. Or that his family adored her. Or that they just looked right when standing next to each other. He always kept going back to Lizzie, even after she ceased her work as a prostitute. Sure, Lucy had always been agreeable to sleeping with her, because she liked Lizzie. But perhaps there was a reason why Tommy kept returning to her. One that not even he was entirely aware of.

Her head turned at the sound of the door opening. Tommy slipped in, quickly closing the door behind him and flicking the lock into place. He stood there, just looking at her, the dim light from the ornate lamps on the tables bouncing off of his sharp features.

“Love,” he said, softly. Stubbing her cigarette out on the windowsill and reaching over to pull the window closed, Lucy didn’t even hear as he moved closer. Not until his hand brushed tentatively against her shoulder. 

“I think that I’m going to go home,” she said after a moment, not looking at him, instead keeping her gaze fixed firmly out the window.

“Okay.” She both was and wasn’t relieved that he didn’t fight her on it. “I’ll get someone to drive you.”

“Thank you.” Awkwardness settled between them. Lucy could not remember the last time that the silence they shared was anything but comfortable. Turning, she stood from the windowsill and finally forced herself to look at him. He was gazing down at her with a look of such deep regret and heartache, that just the sight of it almost made her start to cry. 

“You’re still planning to leave early tomorrow morning?”

“Yes.”

She wouldn’t see him before they were off, then. Nodding, she glanced down, unable to meet the sad look in his eyes any longer. “You don’t need to worry about work or Ruby getting settled or anything. I’ll take care of it.”  

He leaned forward, hand finding her chin and gently nudging her face up to look at him. His eyes searched her features. She parted her lips to speak, but it took her a few tries until her voice wasn’t too tear-laced for her to trust it. 

“Have a fun honeymoon,” she finally managed to choke out. When she tried to pull away, his hands landed on her upper arms, holding her firmly in place. 

“Lucy,” he said, a layer of franticness in his voice, “When I’m with her…I’m not with her.”

She stared at the center of his chest, examining the pattern on the tie tucked into his waistcoat, then tilted her head back up to him. His eyes were desperate, scared, grip tight like he was afraid if he let her go, he’d never get to touch her again. 

“I know,” her voice was shaking, about two seconds away from starting to cry. And she was afraid that when she started, she would never be able to stop. 

Tommy tugged her fully into his arms, folding her against his chest. He kissed her forehead softly, then laid his cheek against it as he held her tight.

“We’re not saying goodbye,” he said. “I’m coming back to you.”

Lucy squeezed her eyes shut, arms circling his middle and squeezing him to her. He squeezed her back, spreading kisses all across the crown of her head. For a moment the warmth of his body muffled the storm of doubt within her. The surety of his words, and the firmness with which he held her, were both nearly impossible to argue with. Surely he would not be holding her like this if he no longer loved her, would he?

Her breaths trembled in her chest as she tried her hardest to believe him. And yet a part of her still stubbornly insisted that she needed to commit every detail of his embrace to memory. The way that his chest rose and fell with his breaths. The scent of his natural musk and cologne. The slight flexing in his muscles when he adjusted his hold on her. His heartbeat was a steady thump against her cheek, and his chest was solid and pleasantly warm. She needed to remember all of these things. Store them away in a safe spot in her mind so that she could call back on them when she was alone and cold in the dark.

Because this may very well be the last time that he ever held her.

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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!

[cerealmonster15]

I’ve reblogged that meme post three times now…….. why am I so embarrassing actually LOL….

[marcsnuffy]

kainess breakup needs to be awful and horrifying to both parties & everyone around them

[berryblu-soda]

Anyways update i just didnt bother to post earlier:

fr God is good and the whole car crash my parents got into last week was so incredibly mild in terms of injuries!!!! worst was a bruised knee im pretty sure

ALSO-

*taps mic* HUG YOUR FREAKING LOVED ONES OR SO HELP ME!!!!!!!

[autism-corner]

they want me so bad (<- asked me for my pronouns)

[adustoflove]

This will always be a better option than arguing with people and attempting to control them. It's not great, but at least I can control myself by just leaving

[tortoisesshells]

burke for character bingo please <3

Burke Devlin

Character Opinions Bingo

[cuteniaarts]

Fanny, my sweet, beautiful girl

17.11.2012 – 14.04.2019

[martyrbat]

batgirl (2008) #4

[ID: Rose Wilson as Ravager, Cassandra Cain as Batgirl, and her sister Marque all looking ahead at something off panel. They all have a disgruntled expression other than Cass due to her cowl; but one can imagine she has a similar expression (if not more remorseful than the other two's). Between Cass and Marque is a narration box that has been edited to be blank. END ID]

[ID: the same panel as above but the original, unedited version. On the brick wall behind them is Deathstroke's silhouette as he goes to strike them with a sword. There's another internal narration box (in Cass's perspective) on the wall as well and the edited box is no longer blank. Together they read: ‘I don't want to hurt them. I want to help them. But I don't have any choice. They don't want my help.’ END ID]

[urlocalmagicalcat]

really long rant (happy rant) in the tags, mostly towards @synthetic-lavender /vpos

romance repulsed aros and romance favourable aros are both cool and valid but because i never see anything about us: shoutout to romance indifferent aros. romance neutral aros. aros who just couldn't care less. aros who have a conflicted relationship with romance. aros who are fine with romance in some contexts but not in others. aros who don't mind romance when it's not amatonormativity being shoved down their throats. aros who haven't yet figured out their feelings about romance. aros to whom romance is Just Something That Exists. y'all are rad as hell and it's okay not to 'pick a side'!!

[phagodyke]

venting sorry... don't want to just delete it bc it helps to get it out just ignore this post pls 👍

haven't slept much at all and feeling so sick andstressed and in pain bc my period is due and so tired its making me dizzy but i cant sleep more or ill just feel more sick and I want a hug and to cry so hard into someones shoulder but no one cares or will even come near me it makes me feel diseased they think things about me that aren't true bc I struggle so much to communicate and thry all make assumptions insteqd and no one wants to give me space to talk to them about it so I cant undo that now and its all my fault and I'm so. exhausted :-(

[boyczar]

[maskedbyghost]

arranged marriage with simon. yes i am talking about this again.

simon doesn’t talk much about the marriage at first, but his actions say it all. he insists on carrying your bags, walking on the outside of the sidewalk, and making sure you eat enough during missions. you don't ask him why, but it's clear he's claiming the role of protector, even if this was supposed to be temporary.

he won’t admit it, but simon begins to get used to the little domestic routines. you cooking dinner, him taking care of repairs around the house. it feels too natural, and although he never says anything, he’s already mentally putting the two of you into that “forever” category.

the first time you mention needing space or wanting to stay in a separate room, simon just gives you a look. "what do you mean, separate? we’re married." he’s not joking either. to him, this isn’t a temporary arrangement anymore. if you try to argue, he’ll just pull you close and mutter in your ear, "ring’s on your finger. means you’re mine." and that’s the end of the conversation.

he starts doing small things for you that a husband would—restocking your favorite snacks, making sure your gun is cleaned before missions, and slipping extra blankets on your side of the bed when it’s cold.

after some time, he’s not shy about touching you anymore—brushing a hand against your arm, holding you a little too close when you’re out in public. the more time passes, the more his touches become possessive, like he’s reminding you who you belong to now.

simon is up early, always. you’ll wake up to the smell of coffee, and he’ll have a cup ready for you without asking. if you take your time getting out of bed, he’ll mutter, "c’mon, mrs. riley. don’t make me drag you out." but there’s always a smile on his face.

when you share a bed, simon always pulls you into him at night. no matter how much space you take up at first, by morning, you’re wrapped up in his arms. if you stir in your sleep or seem restless, he’ll murmur, "got you, lovie," without fully waking up, his grip tightening as if to remind you he’s there, keeping you safe.

simon doesn’t open up easily, but after a particularly intense moment, he’ll lean in close, his forehead resting against yours, and he’ll whisper, "don’t care if it was for a mission or not. you’re the only one for me now." it’s not a grand declaration, but the sincerity in his voice makes your heart race.

simon will leave subtle marks of possession on you—his dog tags hanging around your neck, his scent clinging to your clothes, and his bite marks on your skin after an especially heated night. "need everyone to know who you belong to," he’ll growl against your skin, his lips trailing kisses down your neck.

he also has an odd obsession with your wedding ring. he’ll turn it on your finger, kissing it softly whenever you’re close. if you ever take it off for some reason, his brow furrows, and he’ll slip it back on. "keep it on, yeah?" his voice is low, almost pleading. "means something to me."

after a particularly dangerous mission where you were almost hurt, simon corners you in the hallway, eyes filled with emotion. "you’re not leaving me," he growls, pinning you against the wall. "ever. understand?" it’s a statement, a vow, and in that moment, you know you’re his forever, and he’s yours.

when you’re lying in bed together, his arms wrapped around you, simon will sometimes whisper, "mine," into your hair. it’s soft, almost inaudible, but you feel it in your bones. he needs the reminder just as much as you do—that you’re his, and he’s never letting you go.