#because for better or for worse it was my brain and that was how it worked and in a way my identity was tied into it

[tuttle-did-it]

With you on all of this. I wanted to like Deanna. But the show seemed to decide that if Riker liked her, that was enough to make us like her.

But if I had been on this ship, I would have found it offensive that someone could just drill into my brain like that. I would have avoided her like the plague-- because I do find it quite invasive to have someone know how I was feeling and why-- all the time. I would feel incredibly vulnerable around someone like that-- if she was as powerful as they say, she could easily not only detect what people were feeling, but also influence that. I would hate being near someone like that because I am possessive of my thoughts and feelings. Certain topics-- especially tv-- sure, I can talk about feelings about that. But real life stuff? My past, traumas, etc? Those are mine. And someone seeing through them and announcing them to the whole bridge crew whenever she felt like it-- or even having the ability to do that-- I would steer clear of her.

And instead of them just insisting it is moral and fine and giving us what-- one single episode where they acknowledge how much power she could have over someone, how vulnerable it could make people around her? How easily she could fuck people over if she wanted to? Play with that a bit more. Have people uncomfortable around her. Have her trying to deal with crew who avoid her like the plague. Have crew who refuse to work with her, have some fucking conflict *somewhere.* have her do something bloody unethical where she crosses a line because she is so powerful and it causes actual problems instead of 'he's angry, captain,' and 'what do you think?' And 'how does that make you feel?' Either she's powerful and there are consequences for that power, or she os not powerful and there are consequences for that, too. But you're right-- everything she says, Beverly could have figured out as well.

Or, hell-- when Troi loses her powers, give her 12 episodes where she is trying to get it back. Where she has to prove she is more than just a lie detector machine. Where she has to become more. Data advanced from his programming. But none of the others ever did. And it was the worst with Troi. Give us a whole season where she has to prove she's more. Where sometimes bits of her powers are coming back, but then they blink out again. Where she just has to work for it and prove that no, she deserves to be there even without the powers. She is good enough to be there without them. Then, maybe she gets them back, maybe not. I honestly think she'd have been a better character of they *didn't* return. Shed have to find *something* more to say than 'he's angry, captain.' 'They're hiding something, captain.' It just makes him look incompetent not to see that. So take away her powers and make her work for it.

She's not a good therapist. I've gone to therapy, a lot. And the advice she gives people is worse than the shit you'd see from chat gpt. She's a terrible therapist. At least make her competent. At least hire a psychologist who can say 'she needs to dig deeper here, she can't just say 'and how does that make you feel?' Thats awful therapy. Barclay was a mess before she met him, but her 'counselling' just does absolutely nothing.

I wanted to like Troi. I genuinely have tried for decades to find something I like about her, some story about her I can care about. And there is just nothing for me. I cared more about Tasha in s1 and 'Yesterday's Enterprise' than I ever cared about Troi. I cared more about Ro Laren in her debut episode than I ever cared about Troi. More about Pulaski in a single season. More about Beverly in a single scene than I ever cared about Troi. Which is sad and absurd because she's in the show twice as much as these women-- maybe more of them all put together. She had to ability to be such a great character. The writing failed, hands down. But the other actors brought something more to their characters, made them feel more real and fleshed out despite the shoddy scripts. I don't feel the same with Marina. I genuinely would have preferred to kill off Troi and keep Tasha (had Denise wanted to stay, I get why she didn't) or to have Beverly or Ro in more often. Troi is one of the most useless characters I've ever seen in Trek. Which is sad cos Trek has quite a fee useless characters.

Agree with Odo comments as well-- it was a stroke of genius that they made Odo a shapeshifter who could be anything. Except he can't because he's bad at it. And it hurts him. Was it for budget reasons and to avoid plots becoming way too easy? Yes. But they did something with it that pushed his storyline forward and gave him conflict. And it gave him an inner trauma that he needed to fix-- to the point where he does things *very* against his own ideals and morals just to try to get answers about who he was, and where he came from. By making his talent his trauma, they invited that story, that discomfort of others around him, his own discomfort about himself and his people, that was just a brilliant way to deal with it.

They *eventually* did the same thing with Wesley-- his genius (which they could only show by making all the other qualified adults around him very stupid-- eventually became his trauma. Became the thing that hurt him and kept him distant from others. And it actually worked really well! It was sad they waited til s7 to give him those cracks and issues, but there were a few tiny fractures in earlier seasons do when it did happen, it made sense. It actually ended up being a fantastic story arc. The thing that made him special was also the thing that hurt him.

There were no consequences to Troi having 1000+ worth of people's emotions every day other than her getting a bit tired and needing some chocolate. Okay? And? We met another Betazoid who completely fell apart just being around one person, let alone a ship of people. And I cared more about Tam in that one single episode than i ever cared about Troi. Make it harder on her. Make it hurt her sometimes. Make her talent her achilles heel. They did it with Tam. Data. Odo. But they couldn't do it with her. So they just stuffed her in spandex and had her say 'and how does that make you feel?' For 7 years.

But DS9 was the only legacy Trek that wasn't desperately allergic to consequence. I wish DS9 had more consequence-- poor O'Brien should have had at least a couple mental breakdowns. But they did what they could with the formula at the time.

star trek characters will literally go through the most life changing traumatic multidimensional extrasensory eldritch hell torture imaginable and then they're fine and the next episode they gotta deal with a guy who is bald

[ablobwhowrites]

HAPPY NEW YEARS!!!

Also kinda thinking of the sad detective y/n idea I did and now I’m about to expose more angst I was hiding from you guys and adding more salt to your/n’s wound with this idea from @someone-named-adel and the original start of detective y/n’s angst arc started HERE so please enjoy my yapping session and also I promise I’m going to release a fic on this soon.

I imagine when y/n’s partner was killed. Y/n was the last one to leave the grave even when it was raining heavily, y/n didn’t wanna leave their side. Even at the hospital through the surgery and when they told him the news, it was like he was torn apart. Especially when it was New Year’s Day when he was to propose to them and how they talked about having a family. To find out later when y/n was trying to clean their, his apartment he found a letter that was neatly folded as he opened it was a letter that his partner wrote that told him that they were going to have their child and be able to have the family that y/n and them wanted for so long. They were going to give the letter to y/n when y/n was going to propose as well and this had y/n sob as he couldn’t save his love and now he lost their future, the life, the dream that him and his partner were planning. (In a alternative universe y/n saved his lover and was able to live a happy ever after with them and his child. I say as I'm dragged into rock myself back and forth in a corner)

And that sometimes in certain cases he has is when he sometimes has to be like a parental figure to some kids who have lost or need help to find their parents as some part in him tells him to protect the kid who needs help but he is still afraid that he'll have the kid die when he tries his hardest to protect them but that never happens. He it's just afraid of having kids and feeling that anyone who puts trust into him would get hurt or worse as even if he had no control of the situation, he'll always feel like he could have done something to help even when he couldn't have done anything to prevent this situation. Just for anyone he cares about, he wants to be safe especially having to see his lover die had given him more purpose to try help and protect more people even if it kills him.

But now to the silly and the brain rot

Also I was rewatching the justice league series and was the episode A better world and saw that they cared for our regular flash because the one in the other world died and I saw how panicked the other Batman was when he thought our world flash died so I was thinking. What if the opposite justice league also lost their y/n and basically went to take the y/n from our dc cause they are still alive. Just a little thought and also watched the Crisis on Two Earths: Crime Syndicate Earth. And thought of other world y/n who worked with that justice league from the crisis on two earths. I dont know, might to a more imaging part of it but yeah.

Detective y/n: "wow that was a great dinner. Well thanks for inviting me over but I gotta go back home now."

Bruce: "who said you were leaving?"

Y/n: "huh?"

Detective y/n seeing killer croc running straight at him like

Detective y/n: "good to be back at my job in gotham."

Romantic DC yanderes: "I want you."

Y/n: "what-"

Detective y/n: "well at least theres no more insane universes that try to harm this world.....what do you mean there's more universes?"

(bro is going to tweak when he realizes they get worse from here. But thats all today and if you'd guys like more than feel free to request more but right for now please stay healthy and drink lots of water and stay healthy guys!)

[madamspellmans-met-tet]

Watching the fireworks and all I can think about is:

“But upon an unfortunate series of events saw those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky” — LDR, Ride Monologue

A year ago, I was still in medschool. Already ill, but still studying 12 hours a day for my board exam while I was at my fiancée’s. It was the first NYE in years that I didn’t feel alone. I was with the woman I loved and her beautiful children and lovely family. It was the happiest winter I’ve had in a long, long time, despite all that was going on.

I wanted to be a doctor. A better one than those that had taken a year to diagnose what I already knew I had only to then tell me “there’s nothing more we can do for you.”

Now I stand before the debris of everything that I was. I barely recognise myself. I barely believe that I still exist.

A couple of years ago, I had started medschool, and I was doing well there, I was passionate and it was where I belonged. Spent days in the biochem lab or the dissecting hall and came home late to write my silly fanfiction. I’d even sometimes write them at medschool between lectures or on the train. I did my art, played instruments, sang, edited, filmed silly thirst traps and so on. Then I met my girlfriend and I was happy. It was the peak of my life, I’d thought.

And then, thanks to the negligence of my former doctor and genetics, the illnesses that I’d unknowingly had all my life, got so much worse and ultimately left me bedridden and with barely any quality of life. I had to quit medschool/request a break due to illness, which was approved.

I can’t stand for more than 5 minutes without threatening to pass out. Can’t sit for more than an hour and stay focused, lose my train of thought when I stand up. Need an hour in the morning before I can halfway safely get up, three before I can function. I need help washing my hair, doing chores and cooking and can’t really leave my house. My joints subluxate multiple times a day and I get awful nerve pain when in a flare. I can’t take a bath or shower without ending up on the floor as soon as I get out with a pulse of 150 bpm. It all makes me feel incredibly unattractive. I’m pale, my skin is dry and flaky, my eyes have dark circles, my lips are chapped, and I’m using a can.

I feel ugly.

My writing has slowed down dramatically but it’s the only thing I can still do somewhat decently and I’m being evaluated for disability. My brain, that has been the only thing I could rely on all my life, is forsaking me. It’s demanding to be fed like it used to when it was still a sponge, but when I feed it, it gets too much. And so I’m perpetually bored and overwhelmed at the same time.

I wanted to be a doctor and a writer.

And even though I’m still aiming to try publishing, I’m not sure I have enough energy to do it. I was supposed to get married in 2025. Now I have to attend my best friend’s wedding on my own. And I know it’s my fault, because I got bitter and most of all, because I lost hope. And at the same time, it’s not my fault.

The truth is, I don’t know how many more years I can live on 10% of what I used to be and I don’t want anyone to have to go through this with me. I’m not going to do anything stupid anytime soon. But I can’t do this forever if there is no treatment or hope for improvement on the horizon.

And as always when my life goes to shit, I got attached to another actress more than twice my age. And Patti is keeping me afloat right now. She’s so full of life that I can’t help but feel a little alive as well.

“But upon an unfortunate series of events saw those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky” — LDR, Ride Monologue

Happy New Year.

[theswedishpajas]

Based on my favorite gif lately

[brummiereader]

@mischievouslittlecreature thank god for, Ada! Her idea for him to take her out into the woods, was just perfect 👌🏼.

I really love how supportive Ada is towards Tommy. She, out of almost all the Shelby Clan, is the only one that's been neutral about Tommy and Lucy's arrangement with Lizzie. She understands it had to be done, but also understands the stress and strain it's put on both Tommy and Lucy and how under different circumstances, it would have never happened.

“Because either she’s in a godawful mood that I don’t want to make worse, or she’s in a decent mood that I don’t want to spoil,” this line was perfectly executed at the perfect moment! It pretty much sums up Lizzie and how everyone is always walking on eggshells around her.

She silently cursed Polly for putting so much pressure on them all to go through with the marriage. She and her aunt often agreed, but not on this. Ooh this was such an interesting statement. I honestly feel like Polly only spurred on this marriage with Lizzie because of her dislike for Lucy. I'm so relieved to see Ada has some sense, and knew it wouldn't change a thing when it comes to Tommy's love for Lucy.

“You could take her out on that. Even if just for a night or two. Pack a picnic. Find a nice spot out in the wild away from the city. Just you two and the horses and the clean air. At the very least getting out of the city for a while might help.” arghhh, this sounds like an absolute dream 😍. And I know for a fact you can actually do this in the UK today (you can bet I've already looked into it 🤭)! This is exactly what they needed, some time alone in the countryside with their horses away from all the noise. Also, I can't not mention how terrible Tommy's idea was 🤦🏼‍♀️. I know he was only trying, but I can definitely see how Lucy would think she's his side chick or something, having been taken to some seedy dirty little club. Poor girl. Tommy better step up!

T & L. Tommy and Lucy. Or Tommy and Lizzie. Lucy nooooooooo 😭. To be fair though, this is the kinda shit I do 😂. My brain always has to mess things up for me in moments like this 🤦🏼‍♀️. But, Tommy saved the moment... Tommy & Lucy, the carving now read. With a heart encircling them. - “You aren’t replaceable,” Tommy said, kissing the top of her head and squeezing her. Lucy felt tears prick at the edges of her eyes. Arghhh, you have me squealing and kicking my feet at how cute this was 🥰! He knew! He knew what she was thinking, and knew exactly what to do to rectify her troubled thoughts ❤️.

“I miss being able to love you openly.” gosh 😭. I can't when he opens up like this ❤️. I need this dreaded marriage to be over stat 🤭. I'm happy they've got their own place just for them until that time though. But how long will it take for that to be ruined when Lizzie finds out 🙄.

Loved this lighter story, and well deserved breather away from the fire breathing dragon that is, Lizzie! These two were in desperate need for this time together ❤️.

Part 24: Dirty Little Secret

Summary: After so much recent hardship, Tommy just wants to do something nice for his lover.

Word Count: 3,239

Warnings: Polyamory, sexual content, and references to past torture.

Previous Part • Series • Next Part

Ada frowned as she walked into Tommy’s office in Arrow House and was greeted with the sight of her brother hunched over his desk. His hands were cradling the back of his skull, running back and forth over his dark hair. 

“Tommy?”

He looked up, eyes tired behind his glasses as they blinked at her. “Ada. Hi. Did you just get in?”

“Yeah.” She took a step deeper into his workspace, closing the door behind her and moving towards one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Are you alright?”

“Mhm,” he just grunted, tossing a stack of papers aside as if they had personally offended him.

“I brought you the keys you had mailed to my house.” Reaching into her bag, she pulled out the little parcel to hand over to him. Tommy thumbed it open, examined its contents, and tucked it away into his inner pocket. 

“Thank you.”

“I still don’t understand why you didn’t just have them sent here.”

“I didn’t want to risk Lizzie opening them.”

Ada raised an eyebrow. “You still haven’t told her?”

He shook his head.

“Why not?”

“Because either she’s in a godawful mood that I don’t want to make worse, or she’s in a decent mood that I don’t want to spoil,” he sighed, the weight of the world seemingly on his shoulders. “I’ll tell her soon. No way I can really keep it a secret for much longer, now can I?”

“You really think she’ll be upset over it?”

“She’s upset by most things, these days.”

“I’m sorry.” There really wasn’t much more that she could say. She had tried once–gently, she thought–to discuss the situation with Lizzie. But Lizzie didn’t want to speak of it. Glancing around the room, she frowned again at a notable absence. 

“Is Lucy around?”

Tommy sighed, lighting a cigarette and expelling a plume of smoke into the air. “She took the dogs out for a walk around the grounds. To clear her head.”

“Clear her head from what?” When Tommy didn’t answer right away, Ada’s eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”

Tommy let out an offended sound. “Why do you immediately assume it was me!?” At her look, he huffed, shoulders slouching in defeat. “It’s nothing, really. We’re fine. I just…”

Ada cocked her head, curious. Tommy and Lucy didn’t argue often. “Just what?”

He fiddled a little with his cigarette, not fully meeting her eyes. “I just have been wanting to do something nice for her. Things have been so…tumultuous lately. And I…worry sometimes. About the effect that this has all had on her.” His eyes lingered on the golden wedding ring on his left hand disdainfully. “I suggested that maybe we go out to dinner or something. She… didn’t think that it would be a good idea.”

“Because you could be seen together,” Ada concluded. She couldn’t argue with Lucy’s logic there. All it took was one reporter with a camera, one gossip spotting them out together in an environment that couldn’t be interpreted as professional, and people would begin to whisper. More than they already were. Frankly, she was somewhat surprised that her brother would even suggest something so likely to end with them getting caught. “She’s not wrong about it being a bad idea.”

Tommy nodded. “I know.” Ada was struck by the sad look that entered his eyes. “I just wanted to do something nice for her.” The quietness of his voice tugged on her heartstrings. 

“Maybe you could…I mean, there are places for this sort of thing, right? Clubs or pubs that politicians take their mistresses too…”

“Yeah. We went to one once.” 

“You didn’t like it?” Ada was surprised at the edge of disdainfulness in his voice. 

“I don’t want to take Lucy to places like that. It makes what we are seem seedy and cheap. Most men there don’t care about the women they’re with at all.” He tapped ash from his cigarette into the circular crystal tray perched on the edge of his desk. “I could tell that Luce didn’t really like it. I think it made her feel…” he cringed, and Ada saw his throat flex. “Like she’s just my dirty little secret.”

“She is, technically.”

“I don’t want her to feel like that. I don’t want her to ever think that she’s just a thing that I take out to play with because I’m bored or because my wife isn’t speaking to me.”

He really loves her. Ada had known it since she’d come to stay at the house after Grace died. She’d watched the way that they were with each other. Had a front row seat to just how important Lucy was in keeping Tommy stable. And vice versa. But it was good to have proof that his devotion to her was just as strong as it had always been. She had wondered, if only a little, if after the wedding to Lizzie if things would change. 

She should have known better than to think that rings and a marriage license could have any impact on Tommy’s love for his redhead. 

“I suggested that she pick out somewhere to go. Just the two of us. For a short little week-long holiday or something. Since she didn’t get to come on the honeymoon. But every time I try to bring it up, she dodges the conversation.” He looked at her, and Ada was struck at how lost he suddenly sounded. “What am I doing wrong, Ada?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know, Tom. This whole situation…it was never going to be easy.”

“I know.” His fingers turned his cigarette over and over. “She deserves better. They both do.”

“She loves you.”

“Yeah. Fuck knows why.” His gaze lowered to the floor. “She used to smile a lot more.”

“That doesn’t necessarily have to do with you. It hasn’t really been that long since Luca. She’s still recovering from what he did to her.”

He exhaled heavily. “I know.” 

Ada looked at him worriedly. He hadn’t even been married a year to Lizzie, and yet the whole arrangement had already taken its toll on him as well. 

She silently cursed Polly for putting so much pressure on them all to go through with the marriage. She and her aunt often agreed, but not on this.

If they weren’t careful, this whole mess was going to destroy all three of them. 

“Maybe…” she wracked her brain for something, however small, to help him. “Is there still a vardo at Charlie’s?”

Tommy’s brows furrowed. “I think so.”

“You could take her out on that. Even if just for a night or two. Pack a picnic. Find a nice spot out in the wild away from the city. Just you two and the horses and the clean air. At the very least getting out of the city for a while might help.”

She could see the cogs starting to turn in his head, her idea serving to jumpstart his brain into fitting together a solution. “Yeah…yeah that could work.”

“And you have the new apartment now.”

“Yeah. It’ll be good to have a space that’s just ours.” Where we can get away from my bitter wife when we need to, hung silently in the air. He looked at her, expression bashful. Or at least as bashful as she was pretty sure her brother was capable of looking. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Can’t have you two splitting up. She’s what makes you bearable to be around.”

“Oi!”

She grinned to let him know she was just teasing–mostly. Tommy rolled his eyes exasperatedly. Giggling, Ada leaned forward, swiping the stack of papers he’d tossed aside so disdainfully when she first came in. To see if there was anything else that she could help him with before she needed to be heading home. 

∗ ∗ ∗

“Tommy, what–” 

“Shush. It’s a surprise.”

Lucy let out a bewildered laugh, nose scrunching under the blindfold he’d tied over her eyes. Beneath them, she could feel Wraith moving at a quick trot before slowing to an amble walk. Tommy held the reins firmly in one hand, the other settling on her waist to help her keep her balance. 

“Right.” The horse drew to a sudden stop. “Here.” She felt Tommy dismount, his hand then taking hold of hers. “I gotcha.” 

She huffed, other hand snatching at him until he took it and brought it to rest on his strong shoulder to keep her stable. Letting him help maneuver her to the ground, she pouted when his touch briefly pulled away.

“Thomas, if you ditch me alone in the middle of the woods I swear–”

“I’m not ditching you!” he laughed, voice suddenly coming from behind her. “I just needed to grab something.” His hands landed on her shoulders. “Right. Just walk forward.”

“Don’t let me trip on anything.”

“I won’t.”

She pressed her smiling lips together, letting him guide her. When he’d pulled out the blindfold halfway through their ride through the woods, she’d been hesitant. The last time she’d been blindfolded hadn’t exactly been a pleasant experience. But he hadn’t pushed her, and it was Tommy, so she agreed. He must have sensed her apprehension, because from the moment the blindfold went on, he was mumbling jokes into her ear, hands continually smoothing gentle touches across her body to make sure she knew that she was safe. 

“Stop here,” Tommy said, bringing her to a halt. “Right. One second.” He pressed a quick kiss to the side of her neck, nose grazing against her in a way that made her giggle. She could hear him rustling about, and the sound of what she was pretty sure was the click of his lighter, and then he was pressed to her back once more. “Okay.” His fingers fumbled with the knot in the blindfold at the back of her head. And then the scrap of fabric was pulled away, and she was left blinking and squinting against the sudden bright orange glow of the setting sun. 

They were standing in the same field that they so often rode their horses out to when they needed to get away from the city. The place where he had taken her shortly after hiring her as his assistant. They were standing under the same tree that they had sat beneath that day, its thickly leaved branches stretching high towards the sky. A small lake shimmered with the glow of the sunset, a family of ducks gliding peacefully across it. 

Arranged under the tree before her, there was a checkered blanket stretched out across the ground. A wooden crate served as a table in the middle of the blanket, a picnic basket filled with fruits and bread and cheese placed atop it, alongside a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. Lit candles surrounded the entire spread of food and drink, their flames seeming to grow brighter in the dying light of the sun. Just out of the shade of the tree, a vardo stood, with what looked to be blankets and pillows piled inside. 

Her lips parted, heart stuttering at how deeply romantic the whole display was. She turned her eyes to Tommy, finding him gaging her reaction with an anxious expression on his face. 

“What is all this?”

He shrugged. “Well, you didn’t want to go to a public restaurant, so…”

Taking a step forward, she cradled his face in her hands, kissing him softly. He held her lightly by the back, mouth moving against hers softly. 

“You didn’t have to,” she said after they’d parted. Tommy’s eyes softened. 

“I wanted to.” Reaching down, he took hold of her hand, drawing her with him over to the picnic blanket. 

“How did you do all this?” she asked as she let him guide her to sit down. He settled in beside her, close enough that their sides were touching. 

“Johnny Dogs and Ada helped me get it all set up.” He adjusted them so that they were sitting with her propped up against his chest, his legs stretched out as she reached for the picnic basket to see what he’d packed for them. 

As the sun sank lower and lower beneath the horizon, they ate and chatted and laughed. For the first time in a long while, Lucy felt lighter. More relaxed.

That was until she moved her head from where it was resting on Tommy’s chest to look at the trunk of the tree. Imprinted into the dark wood was the scar of two letters, stacked vertically on top of one another and connected by an ampersand between them: T & L. 

She remembered when they’d carved them into the tree. Tommy’s grin was mischievous as he pulled out his pocket knife and crouched by the trunk, turning his face to kiss her nose and forehead every once in a while as he etched their initials into the wood as she watched from over his shoulder. 

T & L. Tommy and Lucy. 

Or Tommy and Lizzie.

She swallowed hard. Once he grew tired of her and decided to get rid of her, she wondered if he would bring Lizzie here. 

Just swap one L for another. It would be easy.

Tommy must have felt her stiffen in his arms, because he raised his face from where it had been resting in the crook of her neck to follow her gaze. He looked from the tree to her, eyes narrowing as he read her mind. Reaching into his pocket, he pecked a kiss to her temple and pulled away, sitting up by the tree. His pocket knife clicked open in his palm. 

With one hand resting against the trunk, he started to carve with careful flicks of his wrist. Little chunks and flecks of wood fell in a dusting to rest at the base of the trunk. Lucy watched curiously over his shoulder, lip caught between her teeth. When he was done with the names, he started to work on engraving the curves of a shape around them. 

Once he was done, he leaned back, closing the pocket knife and tucking it away. His arms wrapped around her once more, pulling her into his chest as they both examined his handiwork. 

Tommy & Lucy, the carving now read. With a heart encircling them. 

“You aren’t replaceable,” Tommy said, kissing the top of her head and squeezing her. Lucy felt tears prick at the edges of her eyes.

“I can’t help but feel, every time that we’re together, that it should be her with you instead of me.”

Tommy shook his head furiously. “I don’t want her, I want you. If it was her here with me instead of you…I’d be enjoying myself a whole lot less.”

Lucy trailed her fingers along one of the forearms wrapped around her. “I know.” Deep down, she knew what he said was true. It was just hard sometimes to convince the rest of her brain of it. “I’m sorry. I know that I’ve been gloomy and unfun lately. I’m trying not to be–”

“I don’t want you to pretend that you’re fine when you aren’t. I just want you to talk to me.” He nuzzled at her hair. “I know that this is all hard. I want to help you, sweetheart.”

Turning over to face him, she raised both hands to his cheeks. “I know. Thank you, love. I know you’re trying.”

“I miss being able to love you openly.”

She felt her lips pout with the desire to cry. “Me too.”

He engulfed her tightly into his arms. Lucy buried her face in his shoulder, breathing out harshly as she closed her eyes. Tommy rubbed her back, face dropping into her hair. 

“You’re the most important person in my life,” he rasped. “You’re not just something I keep on the side. With Lizzie it’s all charades.” He stroked her hair, took hold of one of her hands and rested it over his heart. “This is real. You and me. Don’t ever think otherwise. Eh?” 

Lucy let out a quiet sob. “Tommy…”

His forehead rested on hers, thumbs brushing away her tears. “We’ll get through this.”

“Promise me,” she begged. His hands rested on her back, urging her closer to him. “Promise me, Tommy.”

“I promise we’ll get through this.”

“Don’t ever leave me.”

His grip on her tightened. “Never. I swear. I’ll never leave you. Nothing on earth could ever make me.”

She nodded, exhaling shakily. Tilting her face slightly, she kissed him. Tommy’s lips parted, kissing her back deeply and passionately until they both ran out of air and had to break apart. 

“I love you,” she said. Tommy hugged her to him again, lips finding her hairline while his biceps gave her a big squeeze. 

“I love you too.”

“Thank you for all of this.” Her voice was a little muffled by the fabric of his coat. “It was nice.”

“Good. I’m glad you enjoyed it, sweetheart.” She felt his cheek settle atop her head. “I thought that we’d stay out in the vardo tonight.”

“I’d like that.”

“I have something else for you.”

She leaned back to look at him, arms still looped around his waist. “You do?”

“Mhm.” Nodding, he reached into his inner pocket, pulling out a small, gift wrapped box. Lucy raised an eyebrow as she took it from him. She could feel his gaze lingering on her as she tore open the paper. He seemed incapable of keeping from touching her, raising a hand to rest on the middle of her back, thumb moving up and down. 

She flicked open the box, and was met with a bronze little key. Picking it up, she examined the pattern on it, eyes darting up to Tommy where he was still watching her, a not entirely suppressed smile dancing on his lips. 

“Is this what I think it is?”

Tommy nodded, and Lucy felt her face light up with excitement. 

“When did you–?” They had talked about getting a flat in London. Somewhere to go on the occasion that they ended up working late at the House of Commons–something that was turning out to be an extremely common occurrence–and for when they needed a break from Lizzie. They’d even gone looking at some places. But things had been so busy, they hadn’t been able to actually pull the trigger on purchasing a place yet. 

“It’s the one that you liked that’s a few blocks away from the office.”

Her eyes widened. “The penthouse?”

Tommy smiled, nodding. “Mhm.”

She flung her arms around him, peppering a few kisses against the side of his face and making him laugh as he caught her against him. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she whispered. He chuckled, squeezing her against him and turning his face to catch her lips in a kiss.

“We can go see it tomorrow,” he said, after they parted. Lucy beamed as he caressed her face. 

“Okay.”

He nestled his face into her neck, starting to place soft kisses there. “Are you done eating?”

She cast a look at the mostly empty picnic basket. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Good.” His hands landed on her thighs, pulling her with a strong flex of muscle into his lap. “C’mere.”

She squeaked then laughed as he scooped her up onto his hips and stood, mouth moving hungrily to meet hers as he carried her in the direction of the vardo.

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[raylazuko]

Two all 2 people who follow my tumblr

GUYS THIS IS REALLY IMPORTANT

If you’re of voting age in the US and not registered, PLEASE REGISTER NOW!

I’m endorsing Kamala Harris for president.

The fact that’s it’s even close makes me sick to my stomach.

You can disagree with Harris or Biden or their administration on a lot of things, but not seeing that she is clearly the better option is scary.

Queer people’s lives depend on this.

If you care about us, PLEASE VOTE

If you are mad at Harris for not stopping the genoc1de, remember that Trump will absolutely not stop it either and that he’s a moron who no one respects. I’d rather have a g3nocide overseas and have queer people (and poor people, women, poc) in the US protected than have a g3nocide overseas and not have them protected.

And if you say “well Roe v Wade overturned and other conservative laws happened under Biden” Remember this was the CONSERVATIVE supreme court that did this. And another Trump term will make the court even worse for decades. The implications of this are huge.

People are on the fence, it’s simple. If you care about your queer, disabled, poc, poor, female loved ones VOTE HARRIS. If you’re centrist and won’t vote because you don’t care you’re a pushover and a coward. If you’re farther left and think she isn’t left enough, yes you have a point but this is all we have, PLEASE use your brain and stop being chronically online and self impressed.

I don’t care if I lose followers for this at this point, I’m just out here doing everything I can, not to panic and want to hide who I am. A lot of people don’t have the options to move to another state let alone country and we just want to live.

I’m lucky to live in a very safe state but I’m still terrified.

Please care about us. Please vote.

[pixlokita]

Well I want to be honest, my mental health hasn’t been the best the past few months. I’ve been really struggling to the point of crying about several different things and it’s not anyone’s fault. Maybe my situation irl is affecting how I feel online, and it sucks because everyone is so nice and kind but I feel like I don’t belong? Idk how to explain it. It’s a very awful feeling and I’m recovering from several traumatic things I thought I’d gotten over but they keep resurfacing, I think I need to organize my feelings and stop overthinking, but I wanted to explain myself too. I’ll be unfollowing several people and you’re free to unfollow me too 💖🙏 y’all have been nothing but wonderful and a source of inspiration but I need to work on myself ;v;)b

I wish everyone a very lovely evening tbh UwU you’re all the best, bless you 💖

[napping-sapphic]

hehe~~ i am soooooo sleepy and tired right now :3 i’m all cuddled up in all my blankets🥰 so warm and comfy hehe…..oh and also my past is haunting me😐

[fishareglorious]

why were they doing duels in court in chapter 4. is it a actual normalized thing for their world or saint pavlov just makes the defendant and the prosecution throw hands to see who comes out the victor. do they do it for every corruption case. can we watch madam z wrestle then dump a mug full of hot coffee on constantine's face godot ace attorney style for the whole breakout incident and for multiple instances of child murders

[violetxaura]

Big brag but I took one of my nursing finals Monday and got the highest grade (that I know of so far) and I actually only listened to the lectures once the day before/on the way to take the test

[silusvesuius]

this tree from my new drawing looking goated afffffff 👑👑

[blackjackkent]

Rakha enters the Counting House's high security vault on a balcony overlooking the main floor. It's an enormous room but mostly empty except for three people standing around a single chest at its center - a dwarf in a fine silk tunic and two guards armored like the ones upstairs.

No sign of Minsc. Jaheira has described him and he is definitely not any of these people.

"It's still... moving..." one of the guards quavers nervously, looking at the chest with an expression of deep anxiety.

Rakha's head tilts to one side and she squints. The chest gives an almost imperceptible twitch.

"Hush your fussing," the dwarf says irritably, pulling a pipe from his pocket and sticking it into his mouth. "Nine-Fingers had this one made especially. That little mouthful will barely slow it down."

(A/N: "Made"? This line raises a lot of questions about mimic biology and reproduction. Also, one of Glitterbeard's guards has Hector's face with an undercut and no beard, but the right eye color more or less, which is amusing me.)

"But the stories..." The guard wrings her hands.

"Stories," the dwarf scoffs. "Tall tales and big names." He pokes his pipe at the other guard, who is looking at his comrade anxiously. "Don't let them fool you, lad. Elminster the archmage. Drizzt the drow exlie. Heroes have power, aye - but not half so much as we do." He flicks his fingers, and Rakha watches with mild interest as fire flares up around his fingers, with which he lights his pipe before inhaling a mouthful of smoke.

"A little coin in the right purse," he murmurs pensively. "A soft word in the right ear. It's not glory that spins these planes, lad. It's gold. See? Now--"

He breaks off abruptly. The chest has given another distinct twitch, and this time its accompanied by a low, moaning growl that sets the hair standing up on the back of Rakha's neck.

She has only a moment to process what's happening, but it's long enough. She's seen this before, a creature disguising itself as a chest - in Grymforge, and in Moonrise Towers. A mimic, Wyll called it. A creature that is mouth and teeth and tongue and very little else, and would have swallowed her whole if she'd let it.

Extrapolation flick-flicks through Rakha's brain like lightning. The visitor logs said Minsc was here only minutes ago, led here by Glitterbeard, the bank's manager. Nine-Fingers said she instructed that he be killed. Jaheira has described Minsc as a behemoth, dangerously violent, and with his own streak of madness to match Rakha's.

There are only so many ways to safely kill such a man. One of them, Rakha imagines, is having him swallowed by a mimic.

Mmmm... whispers the beast in her brain. Too quick. Too clean. No mess left behind to show the deed was done. And yet... perhaps not so easy as they think...

The mimic gives another low moan, its whole body spasming and the eyes embedded in its "wood" flesh opening wide. And then a fist explodes outward from between its teeth.

Blood spatters across the ground. The scent fills Rakha's nose and her vision goes white at the corners. She grips the balcony railing, struggling to regain control, and watches in astonishment as a huge, muscular form uncurls itself from within the mimic's body, ripping its jaw upward with a sickening crack.

The mimic screams and shudders to stillness, its tongue lolling out along the stone floor. Minsc - for certainly this is Minsc - straightens up, his eyes bright with rage as he glares down at the dwarf.

"There is no gold in here!" he bellows, pointing at the dead mimic. With a grunt, he lifts the whole creature up by its tongue and hurls it aside.

"If there is one thing Minsc hates more than beasts with bad breath," he growls. "It is those who are tricksome with the truth."

His head cocks to one side, and then he smiles, showing all of his teeth. "And turnips. But you are no turnip! Let that be a comfort to you in your final moments!"

At Rakha's side, Jaheira laughs suddenly - a sound Rakha has never heard from her before. Every muscle in her body has relaxed with sudden visible relief and her eyes have brightened as she steps forward eagerly. "Meet Minsc!" she says cheerfully. "He still seems very much himself to me."

Rakha grunts. The smell of blood from the eviscerated mimic is still plucking angrily at the strings of her brain, and it is taking most of her available effort to retain control of herself. If this is Minsc, Jaheira can handle the reunion without her.

(Part of her is intrigued, attentive. Just as she has been led to believe, she can already see something of herself in this huge behemoth of a man - the rage and edge of madness in his eyes. The brute force ripping and tearing of flesh and teeth. But there will be time to understand that when she can breathe again.)

Let Jaheira reveal herself.

Jaheira steps forward, letting her boots click loudly against the marble of the floor. Minsc stiffens at once, turning to look up - and his eyes widen, seeing her face.

"You..." he hisses.

There is something strange in his eyes - it does not look like happy recognition. Surely Jaheira sees it too - but just as surely, she doesn't want to. Her smile takes on a forced quality. "Stone Lord?" she calls down teasingly. "Better to call yourself Stone-Head."

(A/N: For once when I say in my writing that there's a long silence, I actually mean it - there was a good fifteen seconds of Jaheira and Minsc just staring at each other with Minsc looking increasingly puzzled. XD )

A long silence passes, during which Minsc's expression shows his inward struggle to parse what Jaheira has said. Then his expression goes very dark, his eyes narrowing to slits. "Your false face does not fool my eyes!" he roars. "I will cut until you look like the monster you are!"

The words resonate inside Rakha's head. The beast keens eagerly. Yes, cut, cut, cut... spill her blood, spill all their blood, rip out their throats and then we shall rip out yours, Minsc of Rashemen--

Jaheira's brief moment of relief has vanished. She has gone utterly still and a muscle is working in her jaw. "Somehow you are making even less sense than usual," she says hoarsely.

And then a voice, all too familiar, echoes across the vault. "Perhaps I can explain!"

It's Jaheira's voice.

And at the far end of the room stands... Jaheira. Or someone who looks like her, at least. Her skin shimmers with the lingering Weave-ripples of the teleportation spell they have seen before, the one used by the Absolutists and the nautiloid. She raises one eyebrow, her lips curled in an unpleasant smirk.

Understanding once again cracks through Rakha like a whip. A shapeshifter - one of Orin's doppelgangers, this time wearing Jaheira's face. But not quite her manner; the smirk is too hard, too cold, and her voice rasps with a disdain that, even in the worst moments, Rakha has never seen from her companion.

"The Stone Lord sees through your lies, shapeshifter!" she barks up at Jaheira. Her voice rings like a bell in the high-ceilinged room. "Count yourself lucky he cannot stay." She turns the sharp edge of her glare down towards the dwarf next to the dead mimic. "Nine-Fingers set a poor trap, little banker. Let the Absolute's faithful show you how it is done."

The Weave rocks. From every corner of the room, figures with weapons and spiked armor shiver out of the dark. Absolutists. Bhaalists. Rakha's staves are out in her hands before she has fully registered what is happening.

"Now come, Stone Lord!" the imposter barks. "We have the gold - and the Absolute has need of it elsewhere."

For a long moment, Minsc does not move, just looks up at Jaheira - the true Jaheira - with narrowed eyes. Then he turns. "As you say, Jaheira," he rumbles. Crossing the room with a few enormous strides, he moves to the imposter's side.

The imposter's smirk widens. And then there's another flash of dark energy, and they're gone, and the cultists begin to close ranks on all sides.

Jaheira has gone very pale with fury and alarm. She pulls her scimitars free, but there is no time for her to do anything but watch as her friend disappears in the Absolutists' company.

"Stlarning shapechangers!" she roars, almost matching Minsc in thunderous volume despite her smaller frame. "Enough - let us deal with these cultists, then find out where they are nesting!"

[selamat-linting]

resignation letter is the most potent painkiller. i love you resignation letter i love you one month notice <3

[maybeicanbesaved]

got into yet another fight with my mom, again about voting/the election, she said that she’s only voted once in her life and never cares to again because she ‘doesn’t care about politics’, saying that shit almost proudly?? and it set me off for obvious reasons, then she got mad at me for saying it’s because she’s privileged and ‘most’ shit doesn’t affect her directly so she can afford ‘not to care’

[o0o0thorn0o0o]

I wish I could have but even a fraction of Orihime’s imagination… Couldn’t think of anything better than Ichigo being a secret agent, haha.

Wanted to post one final thing before my break, and I guess I wanted a soft sketch or something which then turned into a mini-comic of sorts. Speaking of break…:

It’s time for my (planned ^^;) annual month-long break. Feels so soon since my three-month…hiatus, but ah, what can I do?

I’ll still be here, like last year, but not as frequently and won’t be posting much of my own work if at all. Nothing digital, that’s for sure. Again, tryna take a break from my iPad for better habits and focus on other stuff rn. Maybe traditional sketches, but I said that last year, and how’d that turn out? Eheh…

[running-in-the-dark]

it's so funny when I rewatch a show but with a new/different/additional crush. like I'm rewatching the librarians with my partner right now and it just feels soo different lol