#and don’t call me franny

[written-by-baudelaire]

when going through a breakdown, the one thing i want to see is your sarcastic comments.

there is nothing more lonely than being alive

[deadandwalking]

look i’m just saying, sometimes you trust a group of british people that play scary games with you more than your own mother and that’s ok

[lovings4turn]

☆ these are the days . . . (j.m.)

— a couple of days in the life with your boyfriend

+ title taken from 'these are the days' by inhaler.

+ just fluff. dividers from cafekitsune! and always, likes and reblogs are much appreciated

it's another friday night. though in any other city such an occasion calls for a big, crazy night out, stars hollow is not really that kind of town.

jess hangs his head from the edge of your bed, surveying the cds you're leafing through from his upside down position as you sit on the floor next to him. your cd collection in no way rivals that of lane - in fact, you don't think anyone's could - but you still pride yourself on just how extensive it is.

"that one," he hums, straining a little to nod his head in an appreciative gesture towards the 'elastica' album that currently sits in your hands.

wordlessly, you hold it out to him and admire the way his deep brown eyes narrow as he attempts to bring the upside-down cover into focus. anyone else would be surprised at the gentle way in which jess plucks it from your fingers, but jess is nothing but soft in all matters pertaining to you.

in all honesty, the thought that seemingly everyone in stars hollow apart from you see jess as some cold, harsh ‘teenage dirtbag’ is, quite frankly, hilarious. so much so, that you can't stop a small laugh from escaping your lips, a sound that jess instantly picks up on.

he turns away from the cd to look at you once more, treacle brown eyes obscured by the way he squints and furrows his brow in a silent question.

"something funny?" he questions, though there's fondness laced in every word.

"nothing, nothing," you placate, but jess knows you far too well for this schtick.

"yeah, right." his tone is sarcastic, but the crooked smile he shoots you reveals he's more amused than anything. “cracks in your floorboard tell you a joke or something?”

you knock his shoulder with your own, a gentle reprimand that you don’t even mean.

“just thinking,” you admit. “like, ‘s funny that everyone sees you as some sort of devil incarnate, yet here you are, staying in on a friday night to ransack my cd collection.”

“it’s not ransacking if you enabled it,” jess refutes, raising a thick eyebrow teasingly. “but if we’re talking theft, i believe you still have at least three of my books laying around here.”

an indignant laugh escapes your lips as you sit up straighter, but before you can protest, jess is pointing to various corners of your room.

“i spotted franny and zooey when i came in, y’have high fidelity resting on your desk, and i swear please kill me is still sitting in your bag.”

“touché,” you concede, knowing that jess was absolutely correct in his accusations. “i’ll make it up to you.”

jess perks up at this, turning to face you better. he’s still upside down, and you’re surprised he isn’t dizzy from all of the blood rushing to his head in this position, but you aren’t complaining.

you’ve studied jess countless times when he’s standing the right way up; here was an opportunity to admire him in a totally different perspective.

“yeah?” he asks.

his grin tugs the corner of his mouth up into a smile, as though it’s attached to a string with you, the puppeteer of his joy.

a hand comes to trace your cheek. it’s warm, loving. all you can do is nod before your lips meet his own. it’s a tad awkward, jess still hanging from your bed, but he manoeuvres his neck to ensure your kisses become seamless.

as your tongue slips between his parted lips, jess decides that the discomfort his neck will feel tomorrow will be more than worth it.

saturdays are reserved for the infamous diner rushes.

without you there, you’re sure that luke and jess would have killed each other ten times over today alone.

your vantage point at the register allows for you to remind jess to refill people’s coffees or take a table’s order. instead of stalling, like he does when it’s just him and luke, he goes without hesitation, wanting to be back to you as quick as possible.

luke learned not to comment on it. the first time he’d bore witness to jess refilling kirk’s coffee the moment you’d asked him to, he’d made some witty remark about jess being wrapped around your finger.

jess had stubbornly refused to refill any more coffee cups that day in protest.

currently, he’s standing at the counter with you, watching you doodle onto his order note-pad. though luke keeps shoving plates into his hands and sending him to different tables, jess is keen to see how your drawing progresses each time he returns.

he’s glad he has a decent enough memory to remember the orders he takes; he would rather scribble them onto his own hand than ask you to hand his notepad back.

it’s after he gives taylor doose his omelet that he returns to his notepad in the centre of the counter, turned around so he can see it properly.

artistically speaking, it’s no masterpiece. but to jess, it’s priceless.

there, immortalised in black ink, is a glorified stickman portrait of the two of you. jess is in what he thinks is supposed to be a metallica t-shirt, and one of your eyes is a little bigger than the other, but jess doesn’t care. all he notices is that stickman you has stickman jess’ hand clasped tightly.

the moment his shift is over, jess pins it to his wall.

ᝰ.ᐟ tags ; @faerieroyal

[thecapricunt1616]

Thinking about College Lip again, genuinely ever since @mouseymilkovich came on the scene I’ve been once again shameless obsessed (Thank you mouse🐁 we say in unison)

TLDR: Once again I haven’t been able to watch shameless in a moment - this is all from my memory & tik tok clips & edits I’ve been obsessively watching that I think lip acts. If it’s not perfectly canon, I’m sorry! Feedback is always greatly appreciated but try to keep it kindly constructive as I’m just a girl in the world already having a hard time and writing is my outlet so - I love feedback and constructive criticism but don’t just say something like “wow that part made me cringe” without adding how I should make it better or something. Sorry for rambling & thank you for listening if you did.

But I’m thinking how pissed he would be if you were good friends/fuck buddies, and he found out that a professor was being creepy with you

(Warnings for BTC: Creepy teachers (power imbalance), Mentions of sexual harassment, Angry!Lip, Drunk Lip )

Okay so I imagine you’re sitting in his dorm one day, talking about the weirdest things that have happened in college. Lip had told you he had fucked one of his professors but called it off, and you laughed -

“No fucking way!!! Professor Simmons literally held me back after class one day and told me if I wanted a better grade on my last essay I could suck his dick!” Shaking your head at the stupid memory and taking a swig of lukewarm beer he had given you hours ago.

“Wait- huh?” He asked, tone now much more serious. You just shrugged, smile fading a bit. Suddenly you felt almost…judged? By the way his lips curled into a bit of a frown when you said that, his brows knitting together in that classic Lip way, ever angry. You’d teased him that he reminded you of the ‘Anger Emotion’ from inside out that you’d taken him to see with Liam over spring break.

“I- I didn’t do it - like- ew!” You laughed nervously, eyes flicking to your lap, cheeks feeling suddenly hot, and your mouth feeling dry. “Hes…so gross- you thought I would like- do that?!” You asked defensively.

“No- what the fuck? Why the fuck would I be questioning you?! That motherfucker is- is married, Tink! And old as fuckin’ dirt!” His voice raises slightly to drive his point home. The use of that nickname, Tink, short for Tinkerbell. He had started calling you it after you wore a dark green mini skirt and brown turtleneck to class one day, the name was quite perfect for you considering your small stature and affinity for short skirts like the cartoon fairy.

You shrugged, picking at your nails and nibbling on the inside of your lip. “I didn’t let ‘em touch me- only you do that. “ you muttered, feeling embarrassed and small now that you felt as if you’d made him worry after you, like he didn’t think you could take care of yourself. He grabbed your chin, making you look at him - his glazed over eyes told you he’d already finished his 7th beer without even having to look at the nightstand.

“Good- cause if he did?” He said softly “I’d fuckin kill em” he assured you, brushing his thumb over your cheek, before pulling you to his chest and wrapping his arms around you, kissing the top of your head.

You sighed softly, nuzzling your face in his neck and inhaling the scent of his spicy cologne, and the stale smell of Marlboro cigarettes that stuck to his skin and clothes permanently. “M’sorry- didn’t mean to make you upset” you said gently, wrapping your leg around his frame and gently kissing his tanned skin, even though he was staunchly Irish - summer did the gallaghers well, maybe not Ian, or Debbie- or, Frannie… but the rest of them, sure.

“What did I say about the sorrys, kid?” He squeezes your ass firmly, before giving you a light spank that caused you to giggle a bit.

“Ok! Ok I’m not sorry, s-“ you stop yourself and he looks down at you with a smirk to which you scrunch your nose and smile big “soooooo not sorry “ you correct yourself and he chuckled, shaking his head and grabbing his beer, finishing it off.

The next time you heard from Lip was the following night, at 4 am. On an unknown number. You woke up in your dorm to your phone ringing and didn’t even bother looking at the name before sliding it to answer, knowing no one in their right mind that didn’t know you would call you so late. “Yeah?” You said groggily into the phone.

“Heyyyyy, Tinker” Lip said into the phone and that woke you up fully.

“Lip- what’s wrong?” You said concerned, knowing he would never be calling you so late unless he was in some kind of trouble.

“I uhhh” he slurred, obviously drunk. “I think I got myself expelled? Dunno…can you pick me up? Just go to my house- tell Fiona I’m locked up. I need 800- she’s gonna give it to you. Make sure you take Ian with you I don’t want you gettin robbed- tell er’ T’take it from the squirrel fund- been stockin’ it f’this shit just in case. ” he explained, of course breaking to hiccup drunkenly.

You quickly stood, pulling sweatpants over your spandex shorts and pulling a hoodie on. “What did you do?! Lip! What the hell how will I survive Trig without you!” You said worriedly, putting on your messenger bag quickly and holding tour pepper spray in one hand ready to pull as you rushed out the door.

“I dunno!! I’ll tutor you, Tink! Just come get me. M’stuck with this guy that smells like a fuckin sewer.” He groaned.

“Of course I’m coming! I’ll see you soon - don’t get yourself shanked!” You hung up, frustratedly beginning your walk to the L

You were shivering by the time you were pounding on the Gallaghers door, finally Fiona opens the door “WHAT?! WHAT WHAT WHAT!!!” She screamed on her way down the stairs, and when she opened the door to see you shivering there in a hoodie and sweatpants in the 30 degree fall weather her expression softened.

“What’s wrong with Lip?” She asked, pulling you inside and grabbing a blanket “Jesus- Tink! Your lips are nearly fuckin blue!” She wrapped you up, taking your trembling hands and pulling them to her lips, warming your icy fingers with her warm breath.

“He- he’s in jail? I think? He said s-something about a fund, squirrel fund? Bail is 800 and he said to- to take Ian so I don’t get robbed for it.” You stuttered due to your teeth chattering, and being catcalled and followed for 2 blocks on your walk to their house.

“Okay- yeah. Fuck. What did he say he did?” She tugs you to the kitchen, pulling an old Twinkie box from under the sink and pulling out a huge wad of cash, beginning to count out $800. Your eyes widened, shrugging and mouth dropping as she shoves it into an old IRS ‘OPEN IMMEDIATELY’ envelope before folding it in half and shoving it in her bra and screaming

“IANNNNNNNNN! IAN! GET UP!! YOUR BROTHER IS IN JAIL!”

You flinched a bit at her sudden outburst, and there is pounding footsteps down the stairs “what did he do?” The redhead asks and Fiona shrugs

“What the fuck did he do, Tink?!” Fiona asks again and you shrugged quickly, shaking your head confused

“He- he said he was gonna be expelled?! I don’t know- I- he just- he called and said to come here and that Ian could protect me- and- and he gets really angry I don’t want him to be angry if you come with us-“

She cuts you off and holds her hand up

“He’s not gonna take it out on you he fuckin knows me. Ian go tell Debbie to watch Liam. I need to find fucking pants” she muttered heading over to the large laundry pile on the kitchen floor and digging through it as Ian raced back upstairs to do what he had been instructed.

Fiona thankfully drove you 3 to the police station, thankful for a warm car instead of taking the late night train. When you got inside the station, she thankfully took over.

“Gallagher? Phillip- Lip- Lip Gallagher- here-“ she drops the envelope in the little box that went behind the window. The woman looks at the three of us, then the envelope, then the computer.

“Phillip?” She repeated, unenthused and Fiona nodded quickly. “That’ll be 800, I’m assuming -“ she picked up the crinkled, (slightly sweat damp envelope) that Fiona had tossed into the box “this-“ she holds it up by her bright red acrylic nails like it was diseased

“S’all there!” Fiona nods and smiles kindly, likely hoping her kind demeanor would cause the woman to take pity on us.

“Let me just- count this” the woman opened her drawer, pulling out a pair of black latex gloves and snapping them over her hands before pulling the envelope open and counting out the cash, popping it in the drawer and printing a ticket. “RON!!!” She screeched.

An overweight, brunette man is startled awake behind her sitting in a rolling chair and jumping slightly when he was called. “Huh?! I’m awake!” He barked defensively. Ian and I look at eachother, with a ‘are they fucking kidding?!’ Look

“Gallagher! Paid bail. Cut ‘em” she said and went back to scrolling on Facebook.

You followed the large man when he beckoned you all, back to a cell where Lip was curled up to himself on the bench, arms crossed over his tummy and head to his knees protectively while he dozed.

“GALLAGHER!” The man barks, causing Lip to jump with a startled snore. When he saw you his expression softened, jumping up and rushing to the bars, reaching for you. You gave him a hug as the oaf got the cell unlocked.

“Quit scarin’ me like this, Lip” you mumbled into his greasy cigarette stale curls.

You got Lip back to the Gallagher house, helping him up the stairs to his room and setting him on the bed. He was utterly exhausted, nearly so drunk he was passed out. So you went down to the kitchen, and made him a double pack of beef ramen and came back upstairs, giving it to him to eat and distract him while you tended to his wounds.

He nearly burnt a hole in his throat wolfing it down, hissing and trying to swat your hands away when you cleaned the beer bottle glass from the gash In his forehead. Through mumbles and coaxing kisses you’d found that he hunted down the same Professor Simmons that beckoned you for a blowie in turn for a better grade - and nearly beat him to death.

After he’d told his wife what he did- she begged him that if they didn’t press charges- she wouldn’t go to the police for the assault and Lip agreed. As awful as it was to have your somewhat situationship bleeding in front of you - it made your clit throb slightly that he went out of his way and nearly ruined his life in your honor. Like some kind of fucking knight in shining Armour.

The next morning, lip woke up to yet another throbbing headache, atop of a dislocated nose, and a nearly bitten through tongue that made him wince when he barely even swallowed. “Open” you beckon gently, already having been awake for hours, changing his bandages and ever-so carefully tending to his wounds.

He doesn’t even try to open his bruised black eye, not even caring to know what happened to him and weakly opens his mouth.

“You gotta learn when to call it quits, Gallagher” you said gently as you placed 3 extra strength Tylenol on his tongue and gave him a mouthful of water to swallow it down.

A/N P2: I know this isn’t my usual MO? I am sorry haha. I wanted to try writing something sweet and angsty. Sorry I just wanted to try something new! LMK if you liked it, xoxo- Capri ❤️

[thebearer]

Annnnnnd how would Lip act in the situation of the devastation fic

i’ve had to think about this tbh. bc he kinda already had his own version with the unexpected pregnancy news of freddy.

but i started thinking in terms of lip’s reader leaving and taking the kids with her, and genuinely, i can’t think of a situation where that would happen and she would come back. like they’d be done.

now, with that being said, i could see lip and you getting into a fight- a huuuuugggeee fight. bigher than the one when you found out you were pregnant with amelia. this is based off of lip with best friend!reader who’s a elementary school teacher. she does pretty well, has a salary and insurance so wayyyy better than anything lip grew up with, but they’re not rich by any means. truly comfortable. lip’s working at the auto shop, still doing odd ball jobs but more full time, got promoted to a shift supervisor and got a raise. you both share a bank account together bc it makes it easier.

debby (bc it’s always debby and i’m a debby hater sorry) does something stupid. stupid enough to need bail money, stupid enough that she might get franny taken away or placed into custody elsewhere. debby calls lip, wailing and frantic for money, and lip, of course, rushes to give in.

comes to you all frantic and manic. “hey, uh, i-i need to move some money alright?”

“move some money? why?” you frown. “lip, are you- is everything alright?”

“debby got arrested.” lip mumbles. he’s known you for a while, a long while, he knows your disdain when it comes to debby and her carelessness. more so, his incessant need to always pull her out of the hole she dug herself in. “she needs money for bail.”

“woah, woah, hold on.” you stop him. “you’re- you’re not- lip, absolutely not.”

“what?” lip snaps. “absolutely not? what-“

“-lip.” you glare at him lightly. “no, we-we don’t have that kind of money right now. jude starts daycare next month, and the daycare fees are going to double-“

“-yeah because you insist on puttin’ them in that fancy ass one by your school.” lip scoffs. “couldn’t leave them with mrs. mcgee. too fuckin’ good for that.”

“yeah, i am too good to leave my babies with a lady who chain smokes and watches the price is right all day.” you glare. “i want my babies to go somewhere safe and- that’s not even the point right now. lip, no. you’re not doing it. we can’t afford it.”

“we can fucking afford it. don’t start this shit with me-“

“-lip, we might have the money for it, but that does not mean we can afford it. that’s our savings, our safety net-“

“-and this is my family. my sister.” lip gritted his teeth. “isn’t that what the safety nets for, huh? for shit like this? unexpected bad shit?”

“not for debby.” you snap, finality in your tone. “not for someone who continues to make bad decisions and not learn from them and then wants you to run and get her out of it every time. i’m sorry, lip. this time i’m not letting you do it.”

that escalates bc one, you told lip he couldn’t do something which just made him turn more stubborn, and two, he’s blinded with irrational rage.

“what about franny, huh? she’s your fuckin’ niece, you’re gonna just let her get put in the system-“

“-franny is more than welcome to stay here. i will gladly take her while debby’s figuring shit out, but you have kids you need to think of. two kid that are yours that you need to think of, lip!”

“don’t you fucking dare.” lip snarls. “don’t you use my kids against me.”

“i’m not using them against you! jesus, lip, you don’t get to just come in here and tell me what we’re doing with our money! that’s my money in there too, ok? i’m telling you right now, if you fuckin’ use my money on this, and not think about our kids, you might as well just not come home.”

lip is furious, leaves without another word, slamming the door hard behind him leaving you in the house with freddy and baby jude. you’re fuming, upset, hurt- he’s feeling the same. lip is furious, furious at you telling him what to do.

he ends up at ian’s house after coming dangerously close to going to the alibi. ian talks him down, tells him you’re right, which was not what lip wanted to hear.

“debby can wait. she’ll get out soon enough and she can figure it out.” ian rolls his eyes. “she shouldn’t have been such a fuckin’ moron.”

“what about franny then, huh? you’re gonna just let her go into the system? let cps get her until then?” lip spat furiously.

ian scoffs. “franny is with carl right now. he’s bringin’ her here tonight.”

lip burns with embarrassment, feeling petulant but still pissed. “hey, word of advice?” ian smirks. “quit bein’ a hard headed jack ass and go home and apologize to your wife before she comes to her senses and leaves your ass for good.”

and lip is still mad but it’s dwindling, a guilt replacing it instead. he just needed to calm down, to think straight. walking back to your house, he had the time to.

lip jammed his key in the door, the ridges not sliding the usual way, not clicking. so he tried again, turning the key with no luck- it didn’t budge. he pulled on the knob, twisting again and again but nothing. “stupid fuckin’ piece of shit door.” lip grumbles, knocking on the door.

he waits, huffing, knocking louder. when there was still no response, lip goes to pull out his phone, only then does he see the pink envelope with his name on it on the welcome mat.

lip opens it up to find a note:

“phillip,

since you insist on doing whatever you want without asking me or considering our family, i decided i would do the same. you can go stay with debby since you chose her over me and my kids.

ps. don’t bother with the lock, i had them changed xoxo”

he found his car keys under the envelope. lip was furious, absolutely fucking furious and sick and upset and just overwhelmed with every emotion possible. you hadn’t even given him his lighter, so he took a walk to the corner store to buy a pack of spirits and a lighter. he called you on his way back, not surprised when you didn’t pick up.

“hey, you know, i know you think you’re bein’ real fuckin’ funny but this shit isn’t funny, ok? i didn’t choose debby, i didn’t do shit, alright? so let me back in the house and let’s be adults about this.”

then another voicemail.

“alright, seriously? you’re not gonna let me in? you’re not gonna let me come say goodnight to freddy or jude? that’s fucked up. really fuckin’ fucked up.”

“you’re bitchin’ me out about not spending money, and-and you get that done? get the locks changed? how much did that cost huh? you can use money to be petty and childish but i don’t get a say in what i want to use it in?”

“ok this is ridiculous. let me in. talk to me. be a fuckin’ adult.”

“seriously? where the fuck am i supposed to sleep tonight? i know you’re fuckin’ seeing’ these- i can fuckin’ see you! just let me in!”

you don’t budge. don’t reply back, don’t answer the calls. he knows better than to bang on the door, wake jude or freddy up, and truthfully… he’s a little terrified at the moment. very scared that you’re truly done with him, that ian was right and you’d come to your senses.

so he slept in his car. in the driveway, thankful it was warm that night and he had a few spare shirts and things in the back. he waited until the next morning, when he knew you’d be up with the boys, to ring the doorbell.

his anger had vanished to fear and guilt, retreating back to you with his tail tucked between his legs, all sad eyes and gentle apologies that you deflected with anger still bubbling.

it definitely took him a while to make it up, a very long while before you actually gave him his new key. he had to make it up to you, work on his communication and his sharing especially with you.

[nerdy-hyperfixations]

I'm the kind of person that enjoys genderbends of characters and likes to change the names when I genderbend them (I'm a fake nby, I know 😔)

But! When changing the names, they have to fit the same general structure and vibe as the actual character's name or I get annoyed. If you got a Darron you can change it to Donna and if you change it to Delilah I'm gonna throw hands with you. (There are exceptions and this is on a case to case basis)

But. I can't with Stanford. I just can't. Read more to watch me have a breakdown.

Anyway so I was like "what would Stanford's genderbend name be? Here's some guidelines I have to follow: It has to start with s and have an f in it. It also has to be able to have a nickname starting with f. And preferably it has to be 2 syllables. And I was like "how hard could that be?"

First I came up with "Saffron" but there's not really a nickname for that. Next is "Sofia" which can have the nickname "Fia" or "Fifi" but it's 3 syllables. Then I was like okay "Saphire?" But that doesn't even have an f, and what's the nickname? Fire???

Okay so maybe Saffron with the nickname Fran. I can settle for that. Then. It hit me. I forgot one key rule. Whatever Stanfords name is has to be correlated with whatever Stanley's name is and preferably he can have a nickname with the front half so he can pretend to be Stanford for years without having to call himself Grunkle Ford.

So... the obvious choice for the name Stanley is Stacey with the nickname Stace... but now we've lost the similar names. Sally could work but I hate that and also what's the nickname? Sal? The kids are gonna call Saffron "Sal"?

Let's have Ford's name be Stefany and his nickname is Franny. Then we can have Stan's name be Stella and- nope no nickname there.

Okay. Fuck the f nickname rule. All we need is two s names that share the same first part and can have two separate nicknames. Maybe Samantha and Sammy except no because who's gonna call Ford "antha" that's not a nickname. Sabrina and Sabella. No. No nicknames

And now the names list I'm looking at ALREADY looks like it's giving me made up names that are just existing names mashed together like Shawnilyn and Shawnancy so you know what!? YOU KNOW WHAT???

Stanley's name is Stacey and I'm making up the name Stacefran. That's a name now. It works. I solved it.

Except, the fact that its "Stacefran's" name that is made up bothers me because I always assumed Ford came out first and Filbrick was like "We'll name this one Stanford!" All proud or psudo-proud. And then Stanley came out and he was like "oh uh. I don’t know. Stan...ley or something. Whatever." Because poor Stanley is cursed by the universe. No way in hell did Filbrick see a kid pop out and go "yes. I'll name you the very normal name, Stacefran. What a wonderful name"

So I still hate it. And nothing will ever fit 😭😭😭

[fictionalcharactersaremypassion]

Uncle Mickey's Hair Braiding Adventure

“Franny!” Debbie called, pouring some coffee in a thermos. “Come here so I can do your hair!” Turning back to the pitcher, she said to Mickey, who was seated at the table, “You want some more?” 

“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “Already had two. Ian’ll have my balls if he sees me have another.” 

“Thought he already had them?” She said idly, a small smirk peeking out. 

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Fuck you and fuck your brother for being in this health kick. If he tries to take me some fucking yoga class, I’ll knock his teeth out and shove them up his ass.” 

“After he shoves his dick into yours?” She said innocently. 

Mickey held up a clear middle finger. 

“Whatever,” she said, unfazed. Taking another mouthful of coffee, she quickly swallowed. “Franny, let’s go!” 

“I’m coming, Mama!” Franny skipped into the kitchen, her hair loose and flying every which way. 

“Sweetie....” Debbie sighed. “Now I have to comb your hair again.” 

“Oops,” Franny said with a giggle. Mickey couldn't help but grin at his adorable niece. 

Debbie didn't think it was so adorable. “Take a seat and I'll be right back, okay?” 

“Okay, Mommy,” Franny watched her go upstairs, immediately barreling into Mickey with a beam. “Hi, Uncle Mickey!” 

“Hi, Franny,” he scooped her up, letting her sit on his knee, one arm around her so she didn't fall off. 

“Mommy says I have to go to school today but I wanna stay with you and Uncle Ian!” She said enthusiastically. “Can I?” 

“You don’t wanna do that, kid,” he had to chuckle at the face she made. “Your Uncle Ian’s real boring. He'll probably make you read or some shit,” he paused. “Or eat broccoli.” 

“Eww!” Franny said loudly. 

“Ay, not so loud,” Mickey tickled her stomach. She squealed, squirming in his lap. “Your boring uncle’s trying to sleep. Don't wanna wake him, okay?” 

Her laughter tapered off, and she leaned back against his chest. “Okay!” 

This was still kind of surreal for him, not just being married to Ian but to have a family that was actually there for each other. Franny meant a lot to him, and it kind of freaked Mickey out at first when she started coming to him for hugs and shit. Wasn’t like he was used to little kids. There’d been Liam when he was much younger but Mickey didn’t interact with him a ton. Back than, his focus was on Ian and ensuring he was cared for. 

Debbie came back down, her footsteps not so light. “Okay, time to do your hair! Do you want one braid or two?” 

Mickey set Franny back onto the floor. But she was frowning, looking back at him. 

“Can Uncle Mickey braid my hair?” She said to her mother instead. She looked between the two of them with big, hopeful eyes. 

“Huh?” Mickey was caught off guard by the request. 

Franny placed her hands on his knee, smiling wide. “Can you braid my hair, Uncle Mickey? Please?” 

“Oh. I don't know how to braid, Franny,” he said apologetically.

“But it's easy,” Franny insisted. “Mommy can show you!” 

“Maybe some other time,” Debbie said gently. “We have to get you ready for school.” 

Franny complied, though noticeably disappointed. 

Wasn't like he ever needed to know how to braid hair. Mandy never did any of that shit. If he did know, Terry would've sooner called him a faggot and shot him in between the eyes than let him do it again. 

It shouldn't have bothered him. But Mickey kept picturing the smile falling off Franny’s face. 

“Got you a burger,” Ian said when he came back to the ambulance, handing the bag off to him. 

Mickey was watching his phone screen intently, trying his hardest to follow along. He didn't see his husband staring at him with raised eyebrows. 

“What are you watching?” Ian said curiously. 

Mickey was too engrossed to answer. 

“Are you watching porn?” There was no answer. “Because if you are, it better not be those guys that kind of look like us. I’m telling you, Mick, it’s weird-” 

“Would you shut the fuck up?” Mickey said, exasperated. Ian stopped, glancing over at him. 

“Sorry...” Ian muttered. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Silence fell over the vehicle. Mickey’s eyes never wavered from his screen, while his husband chewed on his burger and fries. 

Then, suddenly, Mickey slammed his phone on the dashboard in frustration. 

Ian jumped. “The fuck is wrong with you?” 

“Nothing!” Mickey snapped, snatching the bag with his burger, angrily eating it. 

“Right...” Ian said in disbelief. “Okay...” 

Mickey tapped his foot on the floor, impatiently waiting for his brother to pick up. 

Finally, finally Iggy answered groggily. “What the fuck do you want?” 

“Bout time you answered my calls, fuckwad,” Mickey kept his voice down so no one would hear him. It was early in the morning before either of them had to go on rounds for their deliveries. The kitchen was quiet, dim with only the light over the sink on. 

“It’s early, man,” Iggy whined on the other line. “Couldn’t you have called at noon?” 

“No, I couldn’t call at noon,” Mickey sneered. “Need you to do me a favor, Ig.” 

“What kinda favor?” 

“Don’t start askin’ question. Just do what I tell you,” Mickey said through grit teeth. “I need you to get a few things for me.” 

He heard Iggy taking a drink, probably a beer. “Ay, I’ll do what I can but it’ll cost you.” 

“Let’s not forget you still owe me for those joints-” Iggy protested by exclaiming they were a birthday gift, but Mickey cut in. “Consider us even.” 

Mickey refused to blush when Iggy brought the supplies, his face contorted into a bewildered expression. 

“You know I don’t care if you’re gay,” his brother started, “but this going full fag, Mick.” 

He grabbed the bag away from Iggy. “Fuck off.” 

As per usual, his brother didn’t get the hint, always sure to interject his stupidity. “M’serious. Ian know about this? This what you two are plannin’ on doing before you take his dick?” 

Mickey rolled his eyes, looking through the bag to make sure everything was in there. “Get out,” he motioned towards the door. “I don’t want anyone seeing you.” 

But Iggy, as per usual, is hellbent on ignoring his orders. “Where’s my brother-in-law at, anyway? Haven’t seen him for a while.” 

“None of your rucking business, that’s where he’s at,” Mickey shot him a warning look. “Out, Ig.” 

“Ay, I brought you these-” 

Mickey shoved him out before he could finish that sentence. 

It wasn’t like he intended to get caught. But being in the Gallagher household, secrets weren’t always easy to keep. Mickey could only keep his activity up for so long, approximately two hours, because Ian came home from meeting with Larry and caught him in the act. 

The door to their room opened, which Mickey realized he should have locked, and in came Ian, stopping dead in his tracks upon seeing the mannequin heads Mickey was using so he could follow along while watching the videos. 

Neither one of them broke the dead silence at first. They stared at each other, and this was where, in any other circumstances, Mickey would have killed Ian and hid his body where no one would ever find it. 

But he loved the fucker, unfortunately. 

“What is happening?” Ian said slowly. 

“What’s it look like?” Mickey tried to sound indifferent. “I’m learning how to do hair.” 

“...Why?” Ian said, then joked, “planning on growing your hair out?” 

“No, asshole,” Mickey scoffed, dropping his gaze and coughing. “Franny wanted me to braid her hair the other day.” 

“Oh, yeah. Debs mentioned that,” Ian recalled with a smile. Mickey moved one of the mannequin heads so his husband could sit down on the bed. “She said Franny’s been asking her to teach you.” 

“Yeah, well,” Mickey muttered. “Now she don’t have to.” 

Ian smiled as widely as Franny had, leaning in to kiss him. “You’re so damn hot when you’re in uncle mode,” he whispered. 

Mickey was still not used to being complimented like this. He squirmed. “Just don’t wanna disappoint the kid, is all.” 

Ian stared at him for far too long, his expression was tender and it made him even more uneasy. 

“What?” 

“I told you that you weren’t your dad,” Ian kissed his forehead this time. “You’re so much better than him, Mickey, and you don’t even realize it.” 

“It’s just hair, Ian.” 

“It’s not just hair,” Ian shook his head. “You do a lot for Franny. Freddie too. And Liam-” 

“You gonna get to the point anytime soon, Gallagher?” 

Ian continued as if he hadn’t said anything, “I don't think sixteen year old Mickey would have learned how to braid hair to make his niece happy. He wouldn’t drop everything to help his brother-in-law on a project. And he definitely wouldn’t be excited about showing his baby nephew his favorite action movie.” 

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” Mickey muttered, remembering how he’d talked to Freddie the whole time, pointing out all the best parts of the movie. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” Ian shrugged, then smiled again. “Mickey, I don’t care if we never have kids. Watching you with them is enough for me.” 

Ian scooted himself beside Mickey, his back against the wall, one arm over his husband to pull him close. 

“Yeah, well the rugrats ain’t so bad,” Mickey leaned in, feeling Ian kiss the top of his head. “Better than your annoying ass was back than.” 

“Don’t forget you wanted my annoying ass.” 

“Pretty sure it was the other way around,” Mickey quipped. 

They sat there, quiet, just basking in the moment. 

“So, you getting any good?” Ian asked conversationally. 

Mickey blew out a breath. “Nah. It’s harder than I thought. Tried following along to this chick’s video and she goes too fucking fast.” 

“Why don’t I watch it with you?” Ian offered. “We’ll follow along together.” 

“Figured you already knew how to do this shit,” Mickey remarked. 

“Nah. Fiona usually did it. Or Lip.” 

“Course Phllip knows how.” 

“He did it whenever Fi was too busy,” Ian said. “Didn’t you or your brothers ever do Mandy’s hair?” 

Mickey gave him a look like he was crazy. 

“Never mind.” 

Ian did as he suggested; with Mickey’s phone they watched endless tutorials together so he’d have a better grasp at it. Both of them worked on the mannequin heads, going for simple hairstyles that they could get the hang of quickly. It was frustrating at first, whenever Mickey would knot the hair up while trying to get it to twist but eventually, he was able to do it flawlessly. 

That night, while laying in bed side-by-side, Ian said, “Franny’s gonna be really happy tomorrow.” 

“Yeah,” Mickey murmured. 

“Hey, Mick?” 

“What?” 

“Where’d you get the heads anyway?” Ian said, curiously. 

When Mickey said nothing, Ian pressed. “Mickey...” 

“I might’ve had Iggy steal them from Tami’s hair salon....” 

Ian just sighed in exasperation. 

“Franny, come down here,” Debbie called up the stairs the next morning. There was no sound, no movement coming up from there at all. “Uncle Mickey’s going to do your hair if you get down here in the next five minutes.” 

Franny came barreling down the stairs. Debbie was muttering Jesus under her breath, rolling her eyes at the whirlwind her daughter created. 

“Morning, Little Red,” Mickey greeted. “You ready?” 

“Yeah!” Franny exclaimed. 

She jumped into the chair, squealing excitedly. Mickey chuckled, and told her she’d have to sit still so he could work. 

Debbie watched them with faint amusement. “If I knew Uncle Mickey was the answer to keeping you still, I would’ve had him doing it a while ago.” 

Mickey flipped her off above her daughter's head. 

[em-harlsnow]

so, i’m guessing mickey spent a lot of time in the head master’s office when he was young. im pretty sure everyone in the show went to the same school, aside from Liam, so we can assume it’s the same headmaster that Carl got sent to a lot.

now, let’s say franny goes to that school as well. she’s a good kid, so it’s not like she gets in trouble a lot. but she’s been taught by all her family that if someone starts something, you finish it.

so that’s what she does.

she ends up in the office. the head master comes in and tells her he’s calling her mother, and franny’s not worried about that. debbie will defend her tooth and nail. when debbie doesn’t answer the phone (she’s not a bad mother, she’s just at work and turned her phone off) they call the next names down the line, which is ian (debbie says ian is her fave).

so the headmaster is making some comments about the other gallaghers he’s had to deal with. mentioning carl and his ways, and lip and his. he says he’s glad it’s ian coming, because he was the least trouble.

however, both ian and mickey come.

ian knocks on the door.

“come in.” headmaster says.

ian smiles tightly and enters, mickey following behind. they both take inventory of a room they haven’t stepped foot in in a decade, marvelling at how unchanged it is.

the headmaster glances up and honestly? he’ll never forget those knuckle tats. they tortured him for the entire time mickey was in school, because they were strictly against school rules.

mickey smirks when headmaster’s face pales.

“i see you’ve brought company, Mr Gallagher.” he says.

“yeah, sir… hope that’s okay.” he smiles again, never falling out of the pattern of calling this guy ‘sir’.

mickey snorts at him, but takes the seat beside ian, opposite headmaster’s desk. “you’re such a fucking goody-goody.” he mutters, and ian smacks his thigh with a shush.

“i didn’t do anything! he started it!” franny shouts, getting the first word in.

“i’m not entirely surprised to see another gallagher in my office. but it makes even more sense now, Mr Milkovich.” Mickey smiles at him mockingly. “who are you in relation to Franny?” he asks.

“he’s her uncle.”

“right. what is it with you gallaghers and milkoviches intermingling? i had to deal with your sister-“ he points at mickey, “- and your brother-“ he points at ian, “for far too long.”

“good genes.” mickey replies.

“oh, i’m sure.” the principle snarks. “so, we understand the other boy started it. that’s not the problem. the problem is that franny broke his nose.”

mickey barks a laugh, and ian shushes him again even if hes barely containing his own smile.

“i’m glad you’re taking this as seriously as we are.” principle huffs.

“sorry - we’re taking this very seriously. what’s the solution here?” ian asks.

“the boy’s family just want an apology. an easy way out, really.”

franny makes a noise of protest and mickey’s eyebrows shoot up. “a fucking apology? the kid’s clearly an asshole, maybe a little bone breaks from a girl would be good for him.”

“please contain your language, Mr Milkovich. and no, we don’t tolerate violence of any kind here. so franny will have to apologise.” the principle roles his eyes.

“that’s totally fine, excuse my husband.” mickey rolls his eyes and ian’s placating. “franny will apologise.”

although she huffs, she nods as well.

they’re about to get up and leave, taking franny with them, when the principle speaks again.

“if you don’t mind me asking, Mr Milkovich, how long were you in prison for? you see, me and some… fellow colleagues had a little betting pool going.”

Mickey rolls his eyes, and ian laughs.

“you made bets on whether he’d go to prison?”

“not so much on whether he would go, more on how long he’d stay there.” the headmaster corrects, which makes ian laugh.

“you’re such a problem student.” ian tells him, and mickey scoffs.

“like… two years? three maybe? he did escape at one point, not sure how that factors in.” ian tells him, because mickey is busy rolling his eyes.

“i did hear about that. impressive, i must say. i don’t think anyone will win any money on that, most people bet from ten years to life.” the headmaster tells him.

“yeah, well. one, fuck you. two, glad i surpassed your expectations, Principle Twat.” mickey huffs sarcastically, getting up and going.

“i see that nickname is never going.” the principle mutters as the two most insane families he’s had the displeasure of meeting leave the office.

god, he hopes franny won’t be trouble.

[holylulusworld]

His maid

Summary: He wants to get his hands on you.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Maid(plussized)!Reader

Warnings: Ransom being an asshole, kinda harassment, I’ll label this one dub-con, maid kink, smut, unprotected sex,light spanking, doggy style, sex over/on a kitchen counter, language, whore, slut, cum dumpster, creampie, slut-shaming, Sir kink, daddy kink, plot twist

A/N: Sweater daddy is back…👀👀

Random snaps his fingers, grunting as Fran ignores him. “Help!” Ransom mutters. “Who’s that?” He points at you standing next to Harlan Thrombey, your new employer. “FRANNIE, I’m talking to you.”

“That’s the new maid, Y/N. She will take over my job for a few weeks. I got to take care of my mother,” Fran rolls her eyes as Ransom undresses you with his eyes. “She’s a nice person. Leave her alone, Hugh.”

“Who asked you,” he bites back. “What a nice little bee landing in my spiderweb.” Ransom smirks darkly. His eyes drift toward your plump ass, and he can’t help it. He roughly cups his crotch.

“HUGH!” Fran can’t believe Ransom sometimes. “You know the word sexual harassment, right?”

“I didn’t think about you, Frannie,” he snickers but drops his hand from his crotch. He will be damned if he doesn’t feel your sweet cunt wrapped around him. So far he seduced all maids Harlan hired. Well, all maids but Fran.

Ransom’s features darken as you run one hand over your skirt to straighten it. He growls low in his throat, already imagining slapping your cheeks with his large hands. “Oh yeah, my chubby little maid. I’ll fuck the sweetness out of you…”

“Fuck,” you exclaim as you drop the broom in your hands. Ransom scared the shit out of you when he sneaked behind you.

“Help, I need you to clean the mess in the guestroom.”

“Mess?”

“Mess. Now, hop-hop, bunny,” he purrs in your ear. Ransom steps even closer, almost pressing his heated body against your smaller frame. “I hate sleeping on dirty sheets.”

“But I just changed the sheets!” there is still so much to do, and you’ve got no time for Ransom’s nonsense. Fran warned you, and she didn’t exaggerate.

“Well, that was before I fucked that sweet bunny last night,” he breathes into your neck. “I hate sleeping on cum and pussy juices, you know. I can still smell her cum. She came so hard on my fingers.”

“If you can’t use your dick right, you have to use what you got,” you quip. Ransom grunts as you grab the broom and make your way toward the kitchen. “I’ll clean your room later. I need to take care of the mess in the kitchen first.”

“No. You will take care of the guestroom first,” Ransom follows you. “Harlan is not around this week. I’m here to take care of the house, and you will do as I say.”

“Harlan wants me to keep the kitchen and bathrooms sparkling clean,” you turn around to size Ransom up. “I will take care of your room later, Sir.”

He inhales sharply. His dick twitches in his pants as you give him a sweet pout. God, how he wants to break your body and mind. “Fine. Have it your way. Be aware I will not forget your insubordination.”

“We are not in the army, Ransom,” you snicker. “You’re not my boss either. Don’t get your thong in a twist.”

“Damnit, she makes me rock-hard that little minx. For weeks she resists me and my dick. I need to have her…”

“Ransom, it’s two in the morning. Why did you call me to come here?” you rub your still-tired eyes as Ransom lets you inside the mansion. “What’s so important it couldn’t wait till later?”

“You did not clean my room,” he lies.

“I did clean the guestroom. I even disinfected the mattress knowing what you did inside with all these women,” you snap at him. “If you’ll excuse me now, I’ll drive back home and take the day off.”

“I got a new working outfit for you too,” Ransom grins. This can’t be good. “A maid should wear a proper uniform, right? I bought it for you.”

“What? Harlan said it’s fine to wear my normal clothes.”

You follow Ransom inside, already fearing the worst. Ransom buying an outfit for you can’t be good.

“Here it is.” He grins from ear to ear as he holds up two garters. Ransom twirls them around his index finger, smirking darkly. “I got a nice maid uniform for you too.”

“That’s sexual harassment, Ransom!”

“It’s Hugh for the help but,” he steps closer to place the garters in your hands, “I’ll make an acceptation for you, sweetness.”

“I won’t wear this shit,” you drop the garters to the ground. “If you don’t stop, I’ll call Harlan. You know, he won’t be amused hearing you wanted me to wear this!”

You twirl around and stomp toward the door. “I know you will change your mind, bunny. One way or another…”

“Sweetness. My chubby bunny,” Ransom coos as he waltzes into the kitchen. You’re busy scrubbing the kitchen counter and ignore him. “We need to talk about the broken vase in the living room. You know, that was Grandpa’s favorite.”

“What broken vase?” you drop the sponge and turn around to look at Ransom. “Not ten minutes ago there wasn’t a broken vase!”

“I think you forgot you and your plump ass kicked it off the table,” his features darken as you look at him like deer in headlights. “I could tell Harlan it was me, though. If only you give me a reason to do so.”

He holds up the maid outfit and the garters again. “No.”

“It’s only fair, bunny. I’ll give the world to get my hands on you,” he dips his head and looks you up and down. “I want you to wear this and clean the kitchen. Maybe I will help you too.”

“I don’t believe you.”

You make a beeline around Ransom to get to the living room. If he fucked with you again, you’ll call Harlan this time.

“No. Why did you do this?” you cry as the vase lies on the ground. Shattered. Broken. “That was Harlan’s favorite!”

“Let me help you, bunny,” he waves the flimsy outfit in front of your face. “Just give in. I know you touched yourself moaning my name. You get off on the way I treat you. I will give you all you need. A thick cock to make you stop overthinking things.”

“If I wear this, will you tell Harlan it was you?” you grab the outfit and garters, swallowing thickly as Ransom purrs your name.

“I’ll tell him it was me if you do as I say tonight, and for the rest of the week.” You shudder, but nod. “You’re such a sweet bunny for me.”

“Fuck, that’s perfect,” Ransom groans loudly as you bend over the kitchen island to scrub it. “Lift your skirt, show me that perfect ass.”

You roll your eyes but lift the short skirt to show Ransom you are wearing the garters. One on each thigh, and nothing else underneath.

“I want you to scrub this counter sparkling clean, maid,” he tuts as you look over your shoulder. “But spread those legs first and show me your cunt.”

“I hate this,” you mutter under your breath, but do as he says. You spread your legs and bend even further to give him a good look at your soaked cunt.

“You love it, little slut,” he steps toward the counter to slap your ass roughly. Your cheeks jiggle and he does it again. “You’re a whore for my cock, just like every other bitch I fucked.”

Ransom grips your ass and roughly kneads your globes. “A hole to get filled with my cum,” he slaps your ass harder, making you cry out. “You’ll take my cock and thank me later after I screwed your brains out.”

“Yes, Sir…” you mumble.

“You will scrub this counter better, slut. I want to eat from the counter. If you can’t clean it properly, you’ll lick it clean with your tongue.”

You harrumph but scrub the counter even harder. It’s a struggle to focus as Ransom kicks his shoes off. You hear his clothes ruffling and his pants drop to the ground.

“Such a nice maid I have,” he grips your hips to press your ass into his crotch. You can feel his cock against your flesh. Pre-cum smears all over your skin, and you quiver as he moves his hands to your chest to rip the blouse you’re wearing open.

Your breasts spill out of the torn fabric, and he immediately cups your plush flesh.

“I knew you are going to be mine,” he purrs in your ear as he harshly tugs at your nipples. You whine as he rolls the pebbled nubs between his skilled fingers.

You hate to admit it, but slick runs down your thighs for Ransom Drysdale. The worst guy you ever met.

“How will you sing when I’m finally inside of you to ruin this pussy. I bet it will be a symphony if you already moan like a bitch in heat when I touch your tits.”

“I hate you.”

“I know,” he bites your earlobe, tugging at it while groping your tits. He won’t let up. Ransom grinds his painfully hard cock into your ass, groaning as you push back onto him. “It makes this even hotter. You will take my cock and call me anything I want to. You’re such a slut for me.”

Words are lost on you when Ransom movies his hands toward your hips. “Put your hands on the counter and shut your mouth. Daddy is going to fuck you know and you will love it.”

You bite your lower lip as he guides the tip toward your dripping hole. He teases your entrance with the wide head.

“Beg me.”

He pushes the tip in, only to pull back out. “Beg me!” He warns and slaps your cheek this time. “Slut!”

“Please.”

“You can do better.”

Another slap and another hit your cheek. “Please fuck me.”

“That’s much better,” he runs his hand over your stinging cheek and guides the tip back in. “Tell me how much you want my cock.”

“I need it so bad, Sir.”

Ransom pushes into you completely, ignoring that your walls fight the intrusion of his thick length. He immediately starts to give you shallow thrusts, and slowly pumps into you.

“Now you will move that perfect ass and fuck this slicked cunt on my cock. You won’t stop until you came all over me and milked me dry.”

You place your hands flat on the kitchen counter to brace yourself before you slowly start to move back and forth his length. “Such a good girl, fucking her slutty hole on my cock.”

He slaps your ass again, making you yelp. “Faster, bunny. I want you to sweat a little. We are not here to make love.”

“I’m doing my best,” you pant. “I worked all day, and now you want me to work your cock too.”

“Aw, my little bunny is tired, huh? Maybe you are too tired for an orgasm too. Do you want me to pull out and jerk off? I could cum all over your ass and paint it with my cream.”

“Please. No.”

You move a little faster.

“Faster, bunny,” he grunts and slaps your cheeks with both hands. “I want you to fuck me as if your life depends on it. Come on, do your job. I want you to work harder for me.”

“You don’t even know how to work hard.”

You push back harder onto his cock. “You want me to work this cunt, huh? Really? Cause I will ruin it once you let me have control.”

“Show me, Daddy…”

He makes an odd noise. “You asked for it.”

Ransom grips your hips harder, leaving bruises you will feel in the morning. Right now, you couldn’t care less because he starts to drag you onto his thick cock, making your tits bounce at the force of his thrusts.

He grunts, and curses as your cunt feels snug and warm around his length.

Ransom speeds up as you finally give him what he wanted all along. You moan and scream his name while scratching your nails over the kitchen counter.  

“I will cum inside of you and fill you up with my spunk. When I’m done with you, I’ll take a picture and send it to Harlan. He will see you are nothing but my cum dumpster.”

It doesn’t matter Ransom is the worst. Your body ignores he makes you sick as his cock just feels too good inside of you.

He slams into you, shouting your name as his dick twitches deep within you. Ransom grips your shoulders, holding you down on the kitchen counter as he keeps on moving. “Fucking cum, princess. Now.”

“Yes. Daddy,” you whine as your walls quiver around his softening cock. His cum along with your juices run down your thighs when he pulls out to slap your pussy lips. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, bunny. Now spread those legs and let me take a picture…”

“I loved it when you cleaned the kitchen counter in the costume,” Ransom snickers darkly. “What do we want to try next, bunny? I could be your boss and you are my naughty secretary, or how about I’m a plumper and clean your pipes?”

“If you explain to Harlan why I quit, and that I never was his maid in the first place, I consider doing another roleplay.”

Ransom gently kneads the knots out of your shoulders and hums. Your boyfriend is obsessed with roleplays and you are more than eager to encourage his kink.

“I got it! You are a waitress and drop food into my lap. You will ride my dick for punishment…”

Tags in reblog.

[kvothes]

What poetry books do you think ought to have been included in the 100 top books thing? (out of interest, if you don't mind me asking)

first i would demure and i say i have not read anywhere near enough to be able to make this call. secondly i would say it’s hard because my favorite books and what i think are the best books are not necessarily the same. finally though, i would say:

frank: sonnets by diane seuss

whereas by layli long soldier

nox by anne carson

seam by tarfia faizullah

zong! by m. nourbese philip

crush by richard siken

voyage of the sable venus by robin coste lewis

the world keeps ending, and the world goes on by franny choi

postcolonial love poem by natalie diaz

green-wood by allison cobb

there are a lot of poets / books i haven’t read yet that also deserve to be here; citizen by claudia rankine presents itself immediately. i wanted to add almost obscene by raúl goméz jattin but i think he was only published In English for the first time this century so maybe does not fit the brief. same for inger christensen’s alphabet. i feel weird about no ilya kaminsky or ocean vuong. or, fuck, danez smith!

i don’t know! this is difficult. i found myself reaching for books that are Important, by which i mean about Important Topics, because i imagine those are the ones the new york times would want. but that’s a frustrating reason to read when you care about craft. take this with a grain of salt or perhaps many many grains of salt, as ever

[wassuppeeps]

Normalize more posts about Side Character and Background Character Lore 🗣️🗣️

And now let’s get to yappin’! 🗣️🗣️🔥🔥🔥

The Knights

Sir Ulf: 70 years old (he gets around real well for someone his age), big asf even at a young age, protected his mother from his drumkard father, did loads of work around his village and was useful bc he was big as sheet, lost his wife to an infection during birth and 27 years later lost his daughter and her fiancé to a raid, killed all the raiders out of pure blind rage with his bare hands, was blamed for the deaths of his entire village and imprisoned for years, was proven innocent when a new judge replaced the old one and released, wandered around for 8 long months, surviving in the wild until he reached Kingsland, was welcomed warmly for the first time in years and met friends who didn’t gaf about his past as a “murderer”, decided to become a knight and succeeded, has spent over 10 years in Kingsland and 21 long years in jail, occasionally still has panic attacks and nightmares about the attack but has support from his troop

Sir Archibald: 36 years old, born with an anxiety disorder and left undiagnosed, was discounted as just a “coward” and a “wimp” by his family, terrorized constantly by his older siblings and cousins for sheets and giggles, making his anxiety worse… struggled with his studies because of his anxiety, was told that he could never achieve his dreams or even do anything of worth because he was a coward (mainly by his own dang MOM), was only encouraged and treated well by his cousin Francesca, whom he called “Frannie,” she was kind to him and defended him and his dreams when nobody else did, mustered up the courage to pack his things and run away (thanks to her), soon made it to Kingsland and applied to be a knight, trained hard in spite of his anxiety and slight cowardice and succeeded in being knighted, eventually found out about his anxiety disorder from Gene and was given a stress ball by him, now has an understanding troop and family that he can lean onto for help

Sir Garroth: 52 years old, was doted on more by his father, disliked watching his father mistreat and abuse his elder twin brother (he’s younger by like a couple seconds), grew up stifled by his father’s strict tendencies and was very close to his twin brother, trained to wield the sword from a young age, eventually grew apart from his twin brother because of his violent tendencies, trained even harder after his father died and his twin brother ran away, eventually left home to grow more and ended up in Kingsland, succeeded in becoming a knight, ended up becoming Alexander’s tutor after the prince started being homeschooled, is very content with his current life, but still wishes to find his twin brother….

Black Castle Knaves

Sir Rhypan (this is how I spell it don’t come at me): 52 years old, real birth given name is Rhys, cursed by a witch before he was even born, causing him to be born with red eyes and randomly become violent and malicious (basically like magical bipolar disorder but worse), hated by his father and his village because of his curse (even though it was his father’s fault for pissing off that witch), was abused by his father constantly and even forced to sleep in the cellar (he even did wall scratches for how many days he was stuck in there llll ll), got his mostly blind eye thanks to his father, only had his younger twin brother on his side, trained to fight in secret from a young age and often sparred with his twin brother for fun, was forced to hurt his twin brother multiple times because of his curse, causing them to drift apart and drawing his father’s ire… grew up in pain and misery, and the curse only got stronger as he grew, with the violent personality switches (and his father’s own raging episodes) becoming more and more frequent… ended up murdering his father during a curse episode and ran away, met the Black Baron and decided to join him, almost killed Gene (multiple times) and even his own comrades during a few different curse episodes and regrets it deeply, got multiple scars from Twinkle getting her getback on Gene’s behalf, wholeheartedly wishes to discover a cure for his curse, and to find and apologize to his twin brother….

Black Castle Guards: Most of them are orphans, runaways, or wanderers, one of the redheaded ones makes amazing tea and everyone loves him (he’s the Black Baron’s second favorite soldier besides Rhypan)

[mariailoveyou-guerin]

Why cant people keep spoilers to themselves now I had to see Gregory sulking bc he cant go to bar with Colin before he’s married awww Colin never beating he’s his siblings favorite allegations and Francesca calling out Eloise for her sour mad ugvly face as she should take her down Frannie she’s ruining ur fav bro moment 👋🏾 her fran nah shes to kind for the likes of Eloise 😂 but in all seriousness tho I’m so happy she called her out bc thats her fav bro N el is ruining his big moment hope we get to see more of Fran slapping sense into el if thats even possible haycinth calling Pen her sister I knew she was my favorite sister for a rzn from day1 sure I knew it from the start but for sure the moment she called Edwina beautiful N wanted to be friends with her bc a beautiful kind queen recognizes another!Now she proved me right‬ I love pretty and kind woman!

don’t even get me started on violet reaction and how she hugged Colin and how she can’t let go of Pen and pen almost in tears saying thank you lady Bridgerton about to cry at work and there are grown men sitting next to me so this can’t happen right now I won’t let it

Love how they had to clarify the fact bton has known Pen all these years bc kanthony stans been calling pen just a neighbor or only friend of Eloise an Colin love😂they writers really said this fandom is dvmb and has no media literacy so we have to spell it out for them slowly they said not on our watch 😂 hope they can chill now about pen knowing the bridgerton forever like I’m tired!

Yes this line still has me shaking and throwing up and crying "we've known penelope all these years and now she'll be my sister!!!" hyacinth bridgerton I love you girl

[jacenotjason]

How would the opposite neighborhood react to seeing their original selfs?

i wanna draw this, but im gonna jot my thoughts down real quick!!

(Here’s the AU masterpost!)

Also doodles!!

They try their best to find something they have in common. I feel like OG Eddie is way to nice to be scared or like grossed out by Opposite, he’d just feel a little bad and wanna be his friend.

They talk about Frank, they have that in common. Like:

OG: …uhm.. arts and crafts?

OP: I’m not five? What about sports?

OG: I can’t follow along with all that..

OP: eugh… mm…

OG: …

OP: ..Frank?

OG: Frank!!

OP: Frank!

Oh they would hate each other. OG would be trying to be nice and then Opposite would insult his business model, and then they fight. I lowkey wanna see these two brawl, I think opposite would kick OGs ass no offense.

OP: *looking around OGs store* Where’s your price tags? The unlabeled scam is scummy, even for me.

OG: Hm? Oh, buddy, I don’t charge money for my products!

OP: … What?

OG: Yah! I prefer accepting other meanings of payment! Things much more valuable then money, friend!

OP: … That’s dumb.

OG: 🙂 what.

Then they BRAWL!! Ok probably not OG howdy probably doesn’t resort to violence. But a lot of insults are thrown back n forth hueurheye-

I honestly think they’d love each other. OP is basically Franny, and OG is OP.Franny they’d literally just:

OG&OP, at the same time: You look like my sister!!

Plus they both love fashion, and hair, and makeup, and Sally- ohmygod theyd be the best of friends i cant even theyd be so girlboss together

OG teaches her some games, and then OP teaches her some girlboss survival skills. Before they leave, OP gives her a pink sparkly pocket knife to remember her by :3

Yknow that fancy rich ppl thing ppl do where they kiss each others cheek? They do that

OG: My dear! Won’t you let me in? I’m you, you can trust me!

OP: what in gods name makes you think I trust myself..?

OG: We are one in the same, starlight! I am you, you are me! A mirrored doppelgänger of your own image! I don’t look to harm you, starlight! Put aside your distrust.. for yourself?

OP: haha… okay, shakesqueer…

Then OP lets her in :3

I have lots of thoughts about these two hanging out. OG makes her a new outfit after judging her gross clothes, lightheartedly ofc and OP is like “haha yeah its gross” and OP gets a cute dress! OP absolutely shocks and destroys OG in video games, they dance together, and they talk about Julie huehuehuehue

WAHHH THESE TWO! I honestly feel like theyd get along, but have little bickering about their different mothering styles.

OG: a.. punk mother? Interesting..

OP: whaat? My kids are all party animals, just like me! I can’t contain that.

OG: haha that’s fair.. I guess.. but.. partying? Thats so… much..

OP: …dude unclench your beak and live a little.

Someone calls OP Ma and OG is like “Ma? Thats so sweet.. i wish my neighbors called me mom :>..”

OG: a dog wearin’ pants? That ain’t right.

OP: aah.. it’s just.. to walk around half naked, is that not discomfiting?

OG: Discomfiting?? Thats a big ol’ word for a big ol’ dog.

OP: Ahaha… I’ve got a bit of a considerable vocabulary.

OG: you got a word-a-day calendar or somethin?

I feel like they’d be friends? Maybe?? OG kinda pokes fun at OP and OP is like “I’m talking to my opposite self :) dimension plane is real :) ain’t that wild :)”

OG: …

OP: .. :3

OG: …I have questions

OP: :D

OG: why the turtleneck?

OP: its like a shirt is giving my neck a hug! :D

OG: …ok. Why the hair?

OP: fluffy! :D

OG: no why is it white?

OP: I bleached it :D

OG: why?

OP: preti :D

[justtrash202]

Hey there!

I know this is a bit late, but here’s a little introduction about me and my blog. I’m JustTrash (or Operationfusionblog), but you can call me Shads, Asp, or feel free to come up with your own nickname! Welcome to my little corner of the internet, where I ramble about my favorite fandoms—especially Codename: Kids Next Door (KND), one of my all-time favorite shows.

A little about me, I grew up during the golden era of Cartoon Network, so my childhood was packed with classics like KND, Dexter’s Laboratory, Powerpuff Girls, Samurai Jack, Ed, Edd, and Eddy, and so many others. These shows had the perfect mix of action, humor, and heart that kept me hooked—and still do to this day. I also write fanfiction (mostly about Wally x Kuki and Hoagie x Abby), but I also love exploring Sector V as a whole in my stories. If you like headcanons, character development, and ships, that’s basically my jam!

Now, I have a lot of favorite fandoms, and this blog doesn’t accept everything, but my Operation Fusion blog is specifically for KND content, so if that’s your thing, feel free to check it out!

I’m a proud multi-shipper, and I have a lot of favorites, but here are my top five:, 3x4 (Wally x Kuki), 2x5 (Hoagie x Abby), Nigel x Rachel, Nigel x Lizzie,Rachel x Franny 2x4 (Hoagie x Wally). Honestly, I ship way too many pairs, but these are the ones I keep coming back to! If you have recommendations or just want to geek out about your favorite ships, I’m all ears.

Thanks so much for stopping by! If you ever want to chat or geek out over KND (or anything else), feel free to DM me—I promise I don’t bite! Let’s celebrate the awesomeness of Kids Next Door together!

[fallinfor-youreyes]

You Took Me By Surprise

His words are not working, his brain just screaming her name on a loop. His entire being just in awe of her. In awe of how long it took him to realize that he wanted Penelope to be his. His. “Don’t marry him.” Or Penelope ends the lessons and Colin finally realizes he can't let her go.

Ao3

Something, Colin thinks, is decidedly off.

He has been known to make mistakes in his past, but usually, he doesn't realize they are wrong until he is thoroughly encompassed in them. Like his unfortunate fling with Mariana, or when he decided to follow some local boys in Greece to a ‘super secret’ hidden cave, or when he was 11 and Anthony and Benedict told him they hid his birthday present in the coat closet on the 3rd floor, only to leave him locked up there for hours.

But recently, he thinks he has been doing a better job. He made it home just in time for Franny's debut. He had surprised his family, started flirting with eligible ladies, started making something of himself among the ton.

The only thing he had slightly messed up was his relationship with Penelope. But he fixed that! They are friends again, possibly closer than ever, and he is useful. To his family, to himself, to Penelope. And in exchange for the lessons, Pen is helping him edit his journals. He has a plan to meet with an editor next month about publishing, and everything is looking up.

Penelope is smiling again, brighter than he has ever seen, and well, seeing her happy made him happy as well.

So why does everything suddenly feel off?

He's not used to feeling so uncertain. It makes him restless.

Colin wants nothing more than to go to Penelope and ask her her opinion, to see if she has any ideas of what he could have done wrong, but...

Ah, the but.

The main reason he cannot go to Penelope is Pen herself.

Pen.

Penelope.

Penelope Featherington.

His friend, his wallflower turned talk of the ton, thanks to his lessons. His... well, his Pen.

Not really his Pen anymore. Never really his anything, if he is honest with himself. Colin likes to think himself an honest man, but the thought of Penelope being just his sister’s friend does not sit right with him.

Just that afternoon, she found him walking in the park, attempting to plan their next lesson. And she told him she no longer needed his help.

“I think we should end the lessons…. They’ve worked wonderfully….

You've been a great friend.…"

Friend.

Full circle moment really.

She shook his hand and smiled at him, lovely as a the first blossom in spring, and then she walked away.

Away from the lessons, away from their time together, away from him.

And Colin could not think of anything else since. Except for the fact that somehow, along the way, he made a mistake. But he still could not put his finger on exactly what went wrong.

"Oh, how exciting!" Franny plops down onto the couch next to him, stirring him from his thoughts.

"What is?"

Franny slaps his shoulder, rolling her eyes. "Do you ever listen? We've been invited to Lady Danbury's ball."

"Why is that exciting?" Colin asks. They've been invited to so many balls this season, he had lost count.

"Well, I suppose because Lord Debling might finally propose." Lady Bridgerton says, settling into her chair across the room, pouring a new cup of tea. "Are you feeling okay, dear? You've been out of sorts all afternoon. I’ve called for more biscuits.”

Colin waves his mother off. "Fine. Who is he proposing to? Has he been courting you, Fran?"

All of the Bridgerton women in the room laugh at him. Even Eloise, and she is pretending her hardest that she is not listening to any of them.

"No, you idiot," Hyacinth says, throwing part of her own biscuit at him. "Penelope."

"Penelope? Featherington?" Colin sputters. He tries to keep his voice, calm, even, free of any sort of emotion, but something terrible and ugly grows in his chest. The minor off feeling tingling the back of his brain grows into something closely resembling dread.

"Who else? Gosh Colin, you really are out of it." Fran attempts to place a hand on his head as if testing his temperature, but he shoos her away and pushes himself off he couch. He cannot sit still any more. His entire body feels tense, stressed.

He doesn't like feeling this restless. The last time he did, he sailed halfway across the world and disappeared for several months.

"But it's barely halfway through the season? What of her other suitors?"

Everyone stops talking at once, an odd quiet falling over the drawing room.

Violet stares at him, a moment too long, before her face softens. Colin doesn't like that look. He's never liked pity from anyone, especially his mother. "My dear," she says softly, placing her teacup down almost too gently. "While I very much admire and adore Miss. Featherington--"

Eloise scoffs, saying something under her breath that makes Colin wonder once again what happened between his sister and Pen, but he doesn't have the time to think about that right now.

"No matter was my daughters have to think about it" Violet continues, sending Eloise a sharp look that has her sinking further down into the couch and silencing her snide remarks. "As I was saying, I don't think Miss. Featherington has any other suitors. And Lord Debling is everything one could wish for in husband."

"But we'll never see her again!"

The little feeling in Colin’s brain lights up like a candle, as if proud that he finally figured some part of the issue out.

"Good riddance," Eloise scoffs, again, and it takes everything in Colin to not run over and push her out of her seat like he used to do when they were kids.

Violet takes Colin's hand, and for just a second, the world falls into a more peaceful state. His mother will know how to fix this. She has always fixed everything.

"Dearest, I think this is a fine match for Penelope. I know you are good friends. You should want what is best for her."

The ugly feeling rears up again, larger and more terrible than before.

He's jealous.

Being a third son in a family of eight, Colin learned early on that jealousy was not something he wanted to participate in. He became the easy-going one, the charming one.

Jealousy is not something he is used to. Being jealous over Penelope Featherington, well, that is just something he never saw coming.

Violet squeezes his hand, once again bringing him out of his thoughts. "Colin. This was always going to happen, eventually.”

He kisses his mother's hand and then let's her go. Sometimes, a mother cannot fix everything.

Sometimes, he has to fix things himself.

He can fix this. He has to fix this.

How, he doesn't know yet, but, he knows he cannot do it sitting in his mother's drawing room.

"I'll see you later." He says, ignoring all of his surrounding siblings and stalking toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Hyacinth calls to him, and if he knew any better, he would say she sounded delighted.

"Out."

XXX

He needs to walk. His brain is in overdrive, thoughts full of Penelope.

Penelope.

Penelope kissing Debling.

Penelope being married.

Penelope never answering his letters.

Penelope leaving.

PENELOPE.

His body is restless, so he walks.

Colin doesn't have a plan. Or even an idea at this point, but he needs to do something other than just stare at the wall, letting the terrible, off feeling take over his entire being.

So he walks. And walks and walks and walks, not having a destination in mind, or a thought on which turn he should take until he has already taken it.

He walks until the sun starts to set, walks until his legs are tired, walks until he realizes the only thing he can think about, or probably will ever think about again is Penelope.

He's not sure how he didn't realize it before now, but the thought of never seeing Penelope again, of not being able to hear her laugh or see her smile, or send her another letter, or not being able to call her his friend, is just unacceptable. He’s been thinking about her all season, he realizes. Even when he wasn’t thinking about their lessons, his thoughts would turn to her, to the dress she wore to the last ball, to the way she would laugh at his jokes, to how she would find his eyes in the crowd, even when dancing with another man.

He can't just let her go. Which is how he assumes he ends up outside the garden gate of the Featherington's house. He didn't plan to be here. But apparently, this is where his mind decided he should be.

It's dark. Colin knows he should not be here. He had snuck into the garden several times over the past few weeks for lessons, so he knows how to get in. Before he even has a chance to think of the consequences he is marching through the gardens, intent on… well….

That's the part he has not figured out yet.

She told him she no longer needed him. Called him a good friend. Just friend.

Was that not what he had said to her at the beginning of this foolish deal. Friend.

Friendship in marriage was rare, his mother had said, but wonderful.

Friend.

Her hand in his, bare, warm. Her smiling up at him, happiness exuding from her very soul.

Dancing, laughing, talking...

She isn't just his friend.

Penelope is his world.

And now, he's going to lose her because he might have taken too long.

The sounds of the carriages making their way to the balls for the night spurs him into action. Colin's running before he knows exactly what to do, but he has to find her. He has to stop her from going, stop her from marrying someone else, stop her from leaving London forever.

He needs to tell her she isn't just his friend. She's everything he has ever wanted.

Colin knows the way to her room, which is scandalous in itself, but before he can make it to the servants door, a different door opens.

And like a goddess walking out of paining, Penelope is there. Beautiful as ever, her skin glowing in the firelight.

She looks nervous. Wringing her hands and tugging on her dress, and he's moving again, slower this time but still moving, toward her, toward his best friend, toward his Penelope.

But his thoughts are still out of control, his brain and his body having trouble connecting like they should.

She is all he could think about all day, but now that she is here, now that he realizes that he wants her as more than just a friend, he doesn't know what to say.

It is all too new, all too mixed up and he doesn't know how to be eloquent.

He watches her take a steadying breath, one he has seen her take all season every time she enacted one of their lessons in public, and before she turns away from him again, he calls for her.

"Penelope.”

She startles, and within seconds he’s right next to her, close enough he can smell her perfume, close enough he can see the uncertainty in her eyes.

Close enough, that he could kiss her with almost no effort at all.

His eyes drop to her lips, and he can hear the sharp breath she takes.

“Colin what are you doing here?”

He wants to reach for her, but she is still startled, still poised to run at a drop of a pin.

“I- um.” His words are not working, his brain just screaming her name on a loop. His entire being just in awe of her. In awe of how long it took him to realize that he wanted Penelope to be his.

His.

“Don’t marry him.”

Penelope’s body tenses, and tears instantly fill her eyes. “Why not?"

Colin is still struggling with the thoughts and the urge to hold her and the confusion in his own head that he just stares at her, mouth open.

“Why, Colin. Give me on reason why.” Penelope pushes past him, putting distance between them with every step. "Why do I not deserve to be married to a kind man, who will take care of me, who will let me move out of my mother's house, away from the stupid antics of the ton. Just because you do not want to court me, or find me marriageable doesn't mean another man can't." Penelope pushes the tears angrily off her cheeks, and crossed her arms in front of her, closing her off from him.

"I never said i didn't find you marriageable." Colin says, finally finding his words. "And I only said I wasn't courting you, at that time, not that I wouldn't. Fife is bloody idiot, and he saw us sneak away together to confront your cousin. I was trying to protect you."

"I don't need you to protect me, Colin. I don't need you."

Her words sting.

He has been thinking of nothing but her all day, hell all season. Colin doesn’t need her to need him.

He would just like her to want him at least half as much as he wants her.

And if she doesn’t, then he needs to know.

He knows it's his fault, that he really has no right to ask for anything from her, but he needs to know. Know that he is not losing her for nothing.

"Do you love him?

Penelope freezes. The tears are still falling down her cheeks, and she look beautiful. He hates that she is crying, but her eyes are glittering in the firelight, and the moon is making her skin glow, and Colin Bridgerton realizes, he wants, no, he needs to kiss Penelope Featherington.

He takes another step closer to her, and she does not back away.

"Tell me, Pen. Do you love him?" Another step. Penelope's breath catches in her throat.

"Because if you tell me you love him, I will turn around right now, and I will watch you marry him, and watch you leave, and I will let you go." Colin swallows, and slowly closes the distance between them, reaching out for her hand. "But, if you do not love him, do not marry him." He takes the final step toward her, until she is close enough that he can see the freckles dotting her nose. "Do not marry him and I promise I will spend everyday for the rest of my life making up for how stupid I have been, Penelope."

Colin lets his fingertips brush against her cheek, and Penelope leans into his hand, eyes fluttering closed, tears stuck like diamonds on her eyelashes.

"And if you still do want to marry him, I have just one request."

Penelope's eyes snap open as his thumb dances over her bottom lip. "Just one kiss. One kiss for me to cherish for the rest of my life, to remind me how utterly daft I have been when it comes to you."

Penelope takes a step closer to him. "What do you mean?"

Colin lets his fingers tangle in her hair, doing his best to be gentle. "You, Penelope Featherington, are my world. The thought of you leaving, and me never being able to see you again has led me to a point of near insanity. I walked all over London, for hours, after I heard that you might be engaged. I walked and tried to clear my head, but all i could think about was you. All I can think about is you. I do not know why it took me so long to realize, Penelope. I had no idea where I was going until I ended up here. Looking for you."

She bites her lip, and it's takes everything in him to not push her against the closest wall and kiss her until she forgets about all other suitors and potential husbands.

"I don't love him. We’ve talked about it. He know I do not love him, and I know that he does not love me, but we could be happy together." She looks away from him, and his entire heart shatters. "I cannot be in this house any longer, Colin, and no one else has even thought to court me, let alone marry me.

"Let me court you. Let me show the entire stupid ton that I want you, Penelope. We can marry before the end of the season, and I will buy us a house, and you can come with me when I want to travel, and-"

She's crying again, but this time she is smiling, and then before he knows what's happening, she pulling him down and her lips are on his.

Colin is kissing Penelope Featherington, and for the first time in what feels like weeks, months, hell, maybe even years, his brain slows down. There is a quiet that fills his soul, a happiness that radiates from the spot where her lips are on his. The feeling that has been hovering over him all day disappears.

Pen.

Penelope.

Penelope Featherington.

His Penelope.

Colin lifts her up and spins them around, and she's laughing, the most wonderful sound in the world.

"Okay," Penelope says, her cheeks flushed, and eyes glittering, this time with happiness. "Okay, I won't marry him."

Colin kisses her again, sneaking his tongue out to taste her, and she's giggling again, pushing him away.

"I still have a ball to go to." Penelope attempts to brush her hair back, but it's come completely undone from his hands. "There's a lot to do, and there's bound to be talk and-"

"I don't care about the talk." Colin says, wrapping his arms around her.

"I know, I know, but it will happen, and I don't want Debling to be hurt by a scandal..."

He kisses her again, because he can, because she is not going to marry Debling, because he woke up in time to realize that what he was looking for has been Penelope all along. She sighs into him letting herself enjoy the kiss this time.

“We’ll figure it out.” Colin says, wrapping a stray piece of her hair around his finger before tucking it behind her ear. “Together.”

"I have loved you since the first moment I saw you, Colin Bridgerton."

"And I am going to make sure you know I love you every day going forward."

Penelope smiles.

And Colin is home.

[helenofsimblr]

Maisie: Don’t, fucking talk to me like you know me Francine. I was expecting thunder and lightning coming in here. Instead I get a wet washcloth *she points at Sarah*, and the crap the washcloth collected *she points at Francine*. Who the fuck hired you Sanders? I didn’t do it. So was it Mr Bright, or Stella herself?

Sarah: S-Stella.

Maisie: Stella? Oh! You're on first name terms with the old managing partner are we? My gods, Francine, I had no idea your little washcloth here was so well connected!

Elita: I shouldn't enjoy Francine getting slammed like she is, but I do. She caused my brother no end of pain. Sure, a lot of it was his fault, but, still... suck on that Franny! Pity about poor Sarah though...

****

Francine: Maisie... Mrs Williams... Please, we are here to work and we will work hard and deliver the goods.

Maisie: You're godsdamned right you will. I have had many new hires stand in this office and I've seen them piss vinegar and shit fire and you two are not giving me the confidence I'd like.

Francine: So we need to have a case, I was thinking I’d like…

Maisie: No Francine, you don’t think, I don’t pay you to think. You are paid to do what I say you do, and as it happens, there is a divorce case that you’re already assigned to. As for you Sanders, there is a conveyancing matter to deal with, Borson Fatherall of Fatherall Industries, heard of him? Rich old guy, missing eye?

Elita: Maisie was restraining her tirade a lot more than either Francine or Sarah could believe. Maisie waits for a reaction from Sarah, none is forthcoming as fast as Maisie would like.

****

Maisie: Hello!? Ground control calling Sarah Sanders!! Are you receiving me? Over!

Sarah: Yes! 

Maisie: Oh my gods now I'm getting flummoxed here, so you've heard of Mr Fatherall and his industries yes?

Sarah: Y-yes, I r-read a-all t-the p-paperwork M-ms. M-montgomery l-let me r-read. To f-familiarize m-myself w-with t-the f-firm.

Maisie: Good! So while Francine was doing drugs and getting fat as fuck, you were reading, excellent. So, Mr Fatherall is buying up some land around the District with the intention of rehoming everybody who lost their homes during that space station fiasco. You will simply handle that. It’s piss easy, a chimpanzee, and two first year students could do it. Can you?

Sarah: Y-yes, I c-can.