#i don't think they're meant to be together. i think they're NEVER meant to be together

[thedandelionresistance]

I hope this is not derailing, but this is also the exact same shit happening in the disability and plural communities right now as well. The idea that if you don't have a "physical condtion" that you're "able-bodied" and therefore have privilege and are basically an oppressor (when physical symptoms of "mental" conditions are not only common but sometimes part of the diagnostic criteria and vice versa, and mental conditions are just the consciousness-altering symptoms of a neurological condition), and likewise that if you're physically sick you have easy access to care in a way that people with 'mental' illnesses don't. The idea that mental illnesses and neurodisabilities can never be as disabling or affect literal physical access or be as dangerous as physical conditions, while also focusing on mobility disabilities to the exclusion of basically all other physically disabling conditions. Claiming strangers are more privileged than you despite their actual lives contradicting it, claiming universal or general community experiences are exclusive to only one part of the community, using "do not derail" to mean "people who are both physically disabled and neurodisabled we will not believe you in the same way doctors and ables society don't believe all of us".

Same with sys//course, exclusion because of system origin, exclusion because of disordered status.

We've experience more neuroableism and sanism and endomisia online as a traumaendo system, but admittedly we are aware of huge amounts of corpoableism in the disabled community (often more from gatekeepers and exclusionists), and have experienced a lot of plurableism specifically at the hands of sys//meds and anti-e//ndos.

And there's always excuses, ranging from "but I didn't experience this ableism/level or type of disability with my shared neurodiagnosis so you must be lying" to "well technically if you're physically disabled in any way we'll say you count but we'll still harass you off the internet if you claim to be physically disabled from a condition we don't believe that can happen with or significantly affect your life from" to "well because ableists choose to be shitty and bigoted about plurality that's the fault of endogenic nondisordered systems actually" to "well men benefit from patriarchy so trans men do too".

It's exhausting, and those of us in both of the communities/subgroups the discourse centers around and splits into a binary always are left the most vulnerable and the most harmed by it.

I try to avoid conspirational thinking especially because of our schizophrenia but damn sometimes it's hard not to feel like this is a genuine actual psyop meant to divide us and make us blame each other. I keep reminding myself that people who like to deepthroat boot exist in every community and tend to be the type that think "being loud all the time wins arguments" and aren't the majority.

But DAMN do we need to come together as communities of marginalized people and present a united front (yeah, even with people we can't stand as a person, as long as they're not actively backstabbing people), now more than ever.

honestly, as a trans woman who's running a fairly 'popular' or whatever queer blog, i've noticed so much shit in the past 2 years and i'm just gonna lay it out for y'all. it's a new year. it's 2025. i do NOT wanna carry any more of this bullshit forward. i'm calling everything for what it is. if this pisses you off, unfollow or block and move on.

as someone else put it in the tags on one of my other posts:

i am sick and tired of not talking about extremely important queer conversation topics for the sake of "keeping the peace".

this is not giving trans women and transfemmes a better quality of life to attack literally every every and all trans men for being trans men. it's making people fucking scared shitless of us. i hope people realize this isn't helping improve the opinion other people have on trans women and transfemmes. it's making people absolutely fucking terrified to even exist around us, because we've gotten to the point where we're attacking literally everyone and anyone who says something we don't like. people are fucking terrified of talking around transfemmes and trans women and it's time we broke the silence on that.

other transfemmes and trans women: do you seriously, really want other trans people to be scared to death of you? do you really want other trans people to be absolutely fucking terrified to speak around you because they're scared of getting fucking yelled at? do you really want other trans people to be utterly terrified to speak up about their own trans issues for fear of being told they hate you? do you really want other people around you to feel utterly terrified to talk about anything queer related at all for fear of being corrected, looked down upon, or verbally harassed?

i am just completely done with this environment we've fostered where basically everyone is on pins and goddamn needles holding themselves back from having real, genuine, impactful, substantial conversations about gender because they're absolutely scared shitless of being called transmisogynistic and publicly cancelled and harassed at all times for saying something as simple as "trans men don't have it easy" or talking about how AFAB people can also be trans. it really does not take much at all to set people off on this website and start accusing people of being transmisogynists left right and center.

i'm not participating in this weird mind game anymore. i do not like how this is being used to control the narrative on transness and trans experiences.

i am done with having to walk on eggshells in every. single. conversation. we have about gender.

i am done with acting like talking about transmasculinity and transmanhood is somehow magically attacking and silencing trans women and transfemmes.

i am done with people having to tack on massive disclaimers saying that they're not attacking trans women and transfemmes just for talking about their experiences on just about every post people write about gender.

i feel like every conversation about gender on here has to be so fucking sterile and calculated and meticulously planned out and stripped of most of its contents in order to not immediately get slammed with a "oh so you hate trans women" or a "oh so you're transmisogynstic." it's fine to point out genuine transmisogyny, i'm not gonna say you have to put up with it when it's real, but can we acknowledge that people are leveraging the fear other people have of being called transmisogynistic to shut people up?

at this point it's being used as a scare tactic and i'm so over it. i loathe how accusing people of being transmisogynistic is a default insult. trans men can't make a post about transmasculinity without someone getting pissed off and calling them transmisogynistic. trans men can't talk about a goddamn thing without being told to shut up, for some reason? why is this happening? like literally why are you doing this? trans men can't talk about ANYTHING at this point. like they needed to be able to coin words for the specific types of oppression they face so they could talk about it, and instead they just get fucking yelled at and told they're being copycats and that the violence they faced wasn't real? what the actual hell is this accomplishing?

why are we acting like we own oppression and no one else can even come close to understanding what its like? come on now, we don't own the goddamn concept of oppression. we also don't own transness. i am sick to death of this idea that transfemininity and trans womanhood are the only "real" ways to be trans. we do not own the concept of transness. it's not just about us. "trans rights" applies to more than just us. it can't be about us all the time. WE are the ones being self centered right now. WE are the ones who are forcing the conversation to be about us in situations where it's completely and totally inappropriate.

we need to say it for what it is: we're fostering an environment where, at this point, only trans women and transfemmes are allowed to talk about anything queer related at this point. like can we call it for what it is? for some reason, trans men and transmascs aren't allowed to talk about trans manhood or transmasculinity at all. ever. they're not allowed to say a fucking peep. they have to shut up and listen to a trans woman explain it to them, because for some reason, the trans woman knows trans manhood better than the trans man. this is out of fucking control, we should not have trans women explaining trans manhood to other people unless they are also a trans man. this is just unacceptable. transfems attack transmascs who speak for transfems, and yet this is seen as good and the norm?

you are not cool if you hate trans men and misgender them on purpose. this isn't feminist. this isn't progressive. you're not getting back at the patriarchy- most trans men do not benefit from patriarchy and never will- you would understand this if you listened to them. instead of talking over and for trans men, and listening to people who talk over and for trans men, if you listened to trans men, the source, you'd understand that no, transmasculine lives are NOT easy and no, trans men do not instantly benefit from patriarchal society if at all, ever. if you listened you'd understand that T doesn't make people aggressive and hostile and evil. if you listened you'd understand that there are a lot of wonderful, loving trans men out there are who are not transmisogynistic just by virtue of existing.

nobody is saying that we want to you prioritize men over trans women when we talk about trans men's rights. we're not saying that we need to talk about men all the time and never talk about women, and that men are the only ones allowed to talk, now. we really have to let multiple people participate in conversations. we can't keep doing this thing where One Gender Has To Be Superior Over another. that's gender essentialism. why must you keep yourself trapped inside the binary like that? why are you so desperate to stay stuck inside of the machine that's trying to destroy you?

challenging someone else's transphobia is not being transphobic. challenging someone else's behavior is not hating them or their gender. criticism is not an attack on trans womanhood and transfemininity. transfemmes are trans women are not immune to criticism and we need to stop acting like we are. we're not. we've created an echo chamber where only trans women and transfemmes are allowed to talk right now and it's not transmisogynistic to point that out, because it's literally happening before our eyes.

if we're demanding that other people treat us better, why are we treating other people like shit in the process to get it?

stop silencing other people talking about other trans experiences. transfemininity and trans womanhood are not the only ways to be trans. stop forcing yourself into conversations you don't belong in. if you don't want trans men do that, don't do it as a trans woman. don't barge into conversations you have literally 0 stock in just to be rude and mean and make the conversation about trans women instead. let other people talk. this has gone on for way too long.

let. other. trans. people. talk. we shouldn't have let it get this bad. but i'm not letting it stay this bad. if you want to accuse people having genuine conversations about transness of being transmisogynistic just because they're not a trans woman, then feel free, i'm not gonna stop you, but i'm not listening to you. i don't care anymore. i'm sick to death of not being able to have REAL conversations on here because some people don't like being reminded that they are not the only people who suffer under cisheteronormative patriarchy. if you can't accept that you are not the only one who suffers under patriarchy and that men need to be liberated from patriarchy as well, then i'm not interested in having a conversation with you to begin with.

seriously, if any of this bothers you, please just block me. i'm not participating in these dumb ass little mind games anymore. i do not give a singular shit about offending people who think this behavior is okay. i spent way too long being afraid to speak up about real world issues because of shitty internet trolls. i don't give a fuck if someone you don't like speaking about their experiences hurts your feelings- you are the problem here.

this is affecting real people in real time and i care about that. i care about people, not stupid ideologies and fighting over who is or isn't "really trans". i care about people, not fighting over labels. open your mind and understand that is is about real ass people, and not just ideologies. trans men and mascs are real ass people. they're not antagonists made specifically to attack and piss off transfemmes and trans women. enough of this.

[novascharms]

MY STRANGE ADDICTION - RAFE CAMERON

dealer! rafe cameron x maddy perez

Maddy Perez has never been addicted to drugs—nor will she ever be. Her only addiction is the campus dealer she just can't seem to shake off and no matter how hard she tries to break free, she keeps getting pulled back into his orbit.

w.c — 3.7 c.w — mention of drugs, mention of alcohol, biting, (i guess?), they should each have a warning cause they're both kinda crazy tbh masterlist a.n — had a dream about this and couldn't sleep until i wrote it sooo ya. maddy is my favourite character in the world, i was obsessed with her when euphoria was at its peak and i think the news that they started filming s3 x ongoing rafe obsession resulted in this odd ass dream lol.

maddy catches her situationship with another girl and has a very maddy-type reaction. <3

"Press your lips together so I can get the edges," Maddy murmured, leaning in closer as she worked the lipliner over Lexi's mouth with practiced precision. The muted hum of music thumped behind the bathroom's closed door, its bassline vibrating faintly underfoot. Cassie's voice, animated and shrill, pierced through the barrier as she paced, launching into yet another rant about some guy from another university who was “totally playing hard to get.”

The chaos was palpable—music, chatter, Cassie’s dramatics—but none of it phased Maddy. She was in her element, zoning out distractions with a skill so refined it felt second nature. Her steady hand glided over Lexi’s lips, guided more by instinct than concentration. Perfecting makeup had never felt like work to her, even amid the din of college parties and frenetic energy of their friend group.

"Cass, he didn’t even see you. None of us saw him," Kat drawled, fidgeting with the zipper on her tight leather skirt. Cassie let out a dramatic whine, the kind that always managed to teeter between endearing and irritating. Maddy glanced at Lexi, and the two exchanged a knowing look, subtle smiles tugging at their lips as if they’d been through this same routine with Cassie a hundred times before.

"I should just walk up to him!" Cassie declared, spinning on her heel with a flair of determination. "I’ll make him acknowledge me. I mean, I did go down on him last week. He owes me that much!" Her kitten heels lay discarded in the corner, her bare feet padding restlessly across the tiled floor as if trying to burn off her frustration.

"Bitch, don't do that." Maddy said flatly, rolling her eyes as she reached for a tube of gloss to finish Lexi’s lips. "You’re not chasing him. Let him come to you. Show him you’re not interested—it’s the only way these guys ever learn." She stood back to inspect her work, gesturing for Lexi to press her lips together a few more times before turning to face Cassie.

"Reverse psychology? That still works?" Cassie asked, her voice cracking slightly as her frustration morphed into the beginnings of an ugly cry. Her wide eyes glistened, teetering on the edge of melodrama.

"You give them too much credit," Maddy said dryly, folding her arms as she leaned against the counter. "Most of them don’t think with anything but their dick." She smirked

Maddy would know.

Hers unfortunately did think with his brain which meant reverse psychology didn't exactly work the way she wanted it too sometimes. The problem with trying to make Rafe jealous when he pissed her off was that he was unpredictable.

Sometimes it worked, turned on his possessiveness and lead to nights where he’d scoop her up, take her home and fuck her senseless all night long with the added benefit of his frustration making the sex that much better.

Other times, it backfired spectacularly. He’d disappear, turning his attention to another girl just to prove she didn’t have the upper hand. Atleast not always.

It would never last though—any kind of distance they forced between the two of them. She'd been attending Oakland University for two years now. Her second year was coming to an end and this thing between her and Rafe started near the end of her first year. They'd never gone longer than three weeks without sleeping together since the moment she met him. He scratched an itch no one else could.

"Why does he even matter that much? Did he even go down on you?" Lexi’s dry question broke through Maddy’s thoughts, and Cassie turned to her sister with an expression of pure outrage.

"Obviously, he’s going to!" Cassie snapped, her tone implying that anything less would be unthinkable. Lexi just shook her head and turned back to the mirror, fussing with a stray curl in her hair.

"Can we just go?" Kat groaned, wiggling her empty glass. "I’m losing my buzz here." She shoved the bathroom door open, and the music hit them like a wave, the bassline pounding so hard it reverberated in Maddy’s chest. The hallway outside was hazy with cigarette smoke, the air thick and alive with the chaotic energy of the party.

The house was alive, pulsing with an electric energy that seemed to multiply in the time they’d spent in the bathroom. The hallways were packed, bodies pressed together in a chaotic blend of dancing and drunken attempts at conversation, voices raised to compete with the pounding music. The bass reverberated through the walls, a steady thrum that seemed to sync with the heartbeat of the party.

“I need a refill!” Maddy announced, weaving her way toward the bar with an easy, practiced confidence. The barman spotted her immediately, his expression lighting up with more interest than professionalism as she slid her empty glass onto the counter. She flashed him a tipsy, knowing smile, and he raised his brows, the corner of his mouth quirking into a teasing grin as he poured her another vodka cranberry.

Before she could take the first sip, a pair of arms wrapped around her from behind. She didn’t have to look to know it was Cassie. "I want shots!" Cassie squealed, her voice slicing through the music and landing directly in Maddy’s ear. Maddy winced, tilting her head to the side to escape the assault. “You heard her! Let’s do some shots!” she called, summoning the rest of their group to the bar.

The girls crowded around, each reaching for one of the freshly poured shot glasses lined up on the counter. “Okay, just down it. It’s like ripping off a bandage,” Kat coached, casting a glance at Lexi, who stared at the clear liquid as though it might rise up and attack her.

“Yeah, if the bandage is a burning throat,” Maddy quipped, earning a loud, theatrical sigh from Lexi.

“On three!” Cassie hollered, lifting her glass as the others followed suit. Maddy held her shot, but her attention was already drifting. Her gaze swept across the room, scanning the throng of partygoers until it landed on a figure that made her stomach tighten.

"One, two, three! Down it!" Cassie shouted, and the girls tilted their glasses back in unison—except for Maddy. Her hand hovered, forgotten, as her focus locked on a familiar frame descending the staircase.

Rafe. She’d know that silhouette anywhere, the sharp lines of his jaw, the way he carried himself like the world owed him something. But what snagged her attention more than his presence was the girl trailing behind him—a redhead in a short dress that clung to her like a second skin.

Maddy’s jaw tightened as she took in the signs. His shirt, slightly rumpled. His hair, a little damp with sweat. His lips, faintly swollen. And then, of course, the glaring evidence: a fresh hickey blooming on the side of his neck.

Her chest constricted as she watched him stroll into the living room, sliding effortlessly back into the fold of his friends. He sat, casual and unaffected, accepting a wad of cash from one of them as though he hadn’t just left some girl upstairs. He didn’t even glance at the redhead, who hovered for a moment before practically squeezing herself onto the couch like she had every right to be there.

Maddy’s fingers curled tightly around her glass. She could feel the heat rising in her, anger coiling in her chest like a snake ready to strike. She had a few options.

She could take the high road, pretend not to care. Let Rafe do whatever the fuck he wanted and maybe even give in to the flirtations of the bartender who’d been undressing her with his eyes all night. He was cute, sure.

Or, she could storm over there, drag the redhead off Rafe by her hair, and cause a scene so explosive it would have everyone talking for weeks. That would make Rafe the angriest. If there was one thing Rafe hated, it was public drama, especially at parties like this where his reputation mattered.

But her favorite option? The one she’d perfected over the past year? Make him jealous. Find someone else—anyone else—and put on a show right in front of him. Let him stew in his own possessiveness, watch his jaw tighten and his eyes darken. She could almost hear the messages he’d send later, each one angrier and more desperate than the last.

Her decision solidified the moment the redhead crossed a line. With a faux-casual air, the girl shifted closer, draping her leg firmly over Rafe’s, her hand trailing up his arm like she owned him. Maddy’s blood boiled, her grip tightening until the glass felt like it might shatter in her hand.

That did it, Maddy thought as she pushed through the crowd, weaving between bodies and a fleeting thought crosses her mind: she almost pitied the redhead. Almost. Because if she hadn’t made that little move, Maddy might’ve just gone home with the bartender and everyone would've had a great time.

Too late now. The girl had stepped into a minefield, and Maddy was about to detonate it.

Maddy barely registered Kat’s voice calling after her, pleading for her to stop, but it was too late. The haze of fury that gripped her was deafening, and her focus had narrowed to a single point: the girl’s leg, still comfortably draped over Rafe’s like she belonged there. And Rafe, the absolute dickhead, wasn’t doing a damn thing to stop it.

Rafe didn’t notice her at first, too absorbed in conversation with someone behind him—probably a customer. Typical. He was always “on the clock,” even at a party. But Anthony, one of his close friends and someone Maddy knew all too well, caught sight of her approach. He nudged Rafe just as she reached them.

Without hesitation, Maddy’s fingers sank into the girl’s short strawberry-red hair, yanking her upright with a swift, brutal motion. A gasp rippled through the group. “Maddy—” Rafe started, finally snapping out of his oblivion, but the sharp edge of her smile cut him off. She could tell by the look on his face that she’d pissed him off the moment he laid eyes on her. And that? That was deeply satisfying.

“Am I interrupting?” Maddy’s voice dripped with venom, loud enough to be heard over the thrum of music. Her gaze flicked between Rafe and the girl, who was now squirming under her grip like a cornered animal. “You and your girlfriend enjoying your fucked-up idea of a date?”

The girl screeched, clawing at Maddy’s wrist to free herself, but Maddy’s hold didn’t falter. She twisted her hand tighter, like a leash, and ignored her entirely.

“What the hell are you doing?” Rafe demanded, his tone sharp but controlled. She noted, with satisfaction, that he didn’t spare the redhead so much as a glance. He knew her well enough to realize that would only escalate things further.

Maddy’s eyes flashed as she stepped closer, forcing him to look down at her. “What the fuck are you doing?” she snapped, her voice cutting through the air like a whip. She didn’t care that he towered over her, didn’t care that he could easily shove her aside. He wouldn’t. He never did.

“Got your dick wet?” she hissed, her hand shooting up to press her sharp nails into the hickey on his neck. “You satisfied?”

Rafe rolled his eyes and caught her wrist, his grip firm but not painful. “Let her go,” he warned, his voice dropping lower. “Don’t be fucking difficult, Maddy.”

She hummed mockingly, as though she were actually considering his request. Then, with a cruel yank, she pulled the girl closer until they were eye to eye. “Did he fuck you?” she asked coldly, ignoring Rafe’s exasperated sigh beside her.

The girl’s eyes filled with angry tears, her face contorted with frustration. Every time she tried to fight back, Maddy would twist her hair harder, forcing her to sway painfully in the direction of Maddy’s grip. “Twice,” the girl spat, her voice trembling with defiance.

For a moment, it felt like the entire room went silent. Of course, it hadn’t, but Maddy had always been good at tuning out background noise. All she could hear was the sound of her own breathing and Rafe muttering a curse under his breath.

With a shove, she released the girl, sending her stumbling backward into the crowd. The redhead didn’t matter. She never did. Maddy’s fury was directed elsewhere.

She turned to Rafe, her grin sharp and dangerous. “That good, huh? She so good you just had to hit it twice? Fucking asshole!” Her hand shot out, shoving him hard in the chest.

Rafe barely budged, but his expression darkened. “Maddy,” he started, but she didn’t let him finish. He caught her wrists to stop her, but she wrenched herself free.

“You wanna fuck other people and then act crazy when I do the same?” she shouted, her laughter incredulous and biting. “That’s how we’re gonna play this?”

“There’s a difference!” Rafe shot back, his voice rising as he stepped closer, closing the space between them. “Grinding on some guy right in front of me isn’t the same as me hooking up with someone at a party you weren’t even supposed to be at!”

Maddy scoffed, her eyes blazing. “Oh, so it’s only okay if I do it behind your back? Good to know! Fucking great! I’ve got a whole list of people I need to bang, in that case!” She tried to shove past him, but his arm shot out, barring her path.

“Don’t,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

“Get your fucking hands off me, Cameron!” she snapped, thrashing against his grip. She managed to scratch his forearm in the process, but if it hurt, he didn’t show it. Instead, he tightened his hold, dragging her away from the crowd.

“Let go!” she yelled, her voice cutting through the music like a blade. When he didn’t, she twisted harder, her voice dropping to a venomous snarl. “You’re such a fucking coward, Rafe.”

He didn’t respond, his jaw tightening as his grip on her wrist remained firm. His sharp, icy glare never wavered as he dragged her through the hallway, ignoring her kicks and curses. She struggled with all the fire of her fury, but he didn’t falter, his focus unwavering. They reached a random bedroom, and the door slammed behind them with a resounding thud.

The moment they were inside, Maddy lunged for the door handle. “Nah,” Rafe growled, his hand shooting out to grab her wrist. “You were so fucking desperate for my attention—you’ve got it now.”

She wrenched her arm in defiance, spitting her anger. “Don’t fucking touch me! I’ll go wherever the fuck I want.” She shoved him back with all the force her frame could muster and managed to yank the door halfway open before his hands were on her again. His grip was bruising this time, dragging her back into the room. The door slammed shut with a force that rattled the walls.

“You always gotta fucking do this,” Rafe barked, his voice low and simmering with frustration. His face hovered inches from hers, his breath hot against her cheek. “Always gotta be so goddamn dramatic. What the fuck do you want, huh?”

And that was how it always started—the yelling, the chaos, the war between two people too stubborn to back down. The true definition of an immovable object and an unstoppable force. It was a constant battle of who could scream the loudest with words that cut like knives.

“You love to act brand fucking new!” Maddy spat, her hands flying to his chest to push him away, eyes blazing with unfiltered rage. “This is what the fuck I get for lowering my standards!”

This was the problem. Maddy and Rafe were both cut from the same toxic cloth—fiery, stubborn, and vicious when provoked. Even when unprovoked. And yet, neither could let go. They were magnets, drawn together by the intensity of their hatred as much as their desire.

“Ah, ofcourse,” Rafe snarled, his expression twisting with anger as he took a threatening step forward, shoving her back against the door. He loomed over her, his body crowding hers. “That’s the problem, huh? You’re too good for me? That’s why you lose your fucking mind every time you see me with someone else? Makes perfect fucking sense, Maddy.”

Her lips curled into a tight, bitter smile as she crossed her arms. “Move.” Her tone was ice, her glare fire.

“Tell me what you want,” he demanded, his voice still sharp but tinged with something raw beneath the anger.

“I don’t want shit from you!” she snapped, her voice rising as she jabbed a finger into his chest. “Fuck you and that ugly strawberry-shortcake-looking bitch!” Her hands shot out, shoving him with all her strength.

Rafe staggered back a step, but the venom in his gaze didn’t waver. “Don’t act like you don’t know what this is,” he hissed, his voice low and biting. “I’ve never once promised to be anything more than a good fuck. You want something else? Then find it somewhere else.”

Maddy’s laugh was bitter and cutting, shaking her head as though his words were the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. “You know what grates me the most about you when you start spouting this dumb shit?” Her voice softened slightly, but the venom was still there, simmering just beneath the surface. She tilted her head, her tone mocking as she continued, “It’s the fact that you lose your goddamn mind every time you see me with someone else. Remember Eddie? Eddie from Lincoln?”

The mention of the name made Rafe’s jaw clench, his eyes narrowing as he looked away, but Maddy wasn’t about to let it go. “Yeah,” she pressed, her voice rising triumphantly. “You knocked him the fuck out! Wanna talk about that, Rafe?”

He scoffed, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “He crossed a line,” he muttered, his tone dripping with disdain.

Maddy’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she leaned in closer, forcing him to meet her gaze. “Actually, he didn't. I never even got to fuck him because you had to go all caveman just because he grabbed my ass, huh?” Her words were sharp, relentless, designed to cut deep.

Rafe’s expression darkened further, his teeth grinding audibly. “He had the fucking nerve to do that shit in front of me,” he snapped, his voice barely above a growl. “And I punched him once. That weak-ass motherfucker went down like a light. He’s just fucking soft.”

“Oh, he’s soft?!” Maddy’s laughter rang out, sharp and derisive. “You’re so full of shit, Rafe. You’re fucking insane. You don’t want me, but no one else can have me either. That’s it, right?”

Rafe didn’t answer, his silence louder than any words.

Maddy was done. Her throat burned from yelling, and the sight of Rafe's smug, unbothered expression was grating against every raw nerve. With a huff, she turned away and reached for the door, determined to escape his orbit. But before her fingers even brushed the handle, his hands were on her. He moved quickly, crowding her space, his chest pressing against her back. His arms snaked around her, pulling her in as though the argument had only stoked his need.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he muttered against her ear, his voice low and steady, a dark counterpoint to the chaos in her head. His hands roamed her body with incomporable ease, tracing over her hips and waist as if every curve had been etched into his memory. His touch was infuriatingly familiar, an intimacy she hated herself for craving. When his hand slid up to her throat, rough and commanding—she swore she’d walk away, her body betrayed her every single time. Rafe knew it, too. He knew exactly how to unravel her, to make her defenses crumble with nothing more than his touch.

His lips ghosted over her neck, soft and deliberate, and she struggled to contain the noises that threatened to tumble out. Every kiss sent a shiver down her spine, her resolve breaking apart with each featherlight touch. And then he turned her, one swift motion that left her facing him, her lips parting in anticipation before his mouth crashed into hers.

Maddy had come to realise that no one did anything the way Rafe did it. Rafe kissed like he was starving for her. Like he’d been holding his breath and she was the only source of air. His mouth moved with a desperation that should have made her pull away, but instead, it pulled her in. Every time they kissed, it felt like a revelation, a prayer, a reminder of why she could never fully let go. No one else kissed her like this, like she was the beginning and end of everything.

But even as the heat of his lips consumed her, jealousy lingered in the back of her mind like a toxic shadow. The thought of someone else touching him, kissing him the way they were now, sent a fresh wave of rage coursing through her. Her teeth found his bottom lip, and she bit down—hard.

“Fuck!” Rafe jerked back, blood pooling on his lip before he spit it onto the floor. His eyes flared with shock and fury as he touched the tender spot. “Maddy, what the fuck?” he roared, his voice echoing in the small room.

She straightened her dress with deliberate care, smoothing out the wrinkles he’d left in it. Her lips curved into a mocking smile, sweet and cutting all at once. “That bitch probably gave you chlamydia and herpes,” she said sweetly, venom dripping from every word. “So, no thanks. I don’t want your ran-through ass. Text me when you get tested, and maybe—maybe—I’ll give you the time of day.”

Without waiting for his response, Maddy spun on her heel and strode toward the door, her head held high.

“I fucking hate you, Perez!” Rafe shouted after her, his voice cracking with frustration.

Maddy didn’t even turn around. She simply raised her hand and flipped him off, her middle finger loud and proud as she disappeared into the party, leaving him to curse and stew in the aftermath.

[lunarin64art]

That feeling when he can't stand to see you that way, no matter what you do, no matter what you say😩😭💔

[brummiereader]

@mischievouslittlecreature fantastic chapter, Lily 😍!

I'm sorry I'm getting so behind on reading 😩. I've currently got a nasty case of bronchitis that won't fuck off 😭, so forgive me if my comments on this chapter don't make much sense.

He nodded. “There was a message pinned to it. Look down on earth and see the seeds you have sown,” he shook his head. I love how the title of this chapter echoes that pinned note. You're so clever at connecting everything together.

He closed his mouth, eyes narrowing down at her. “You’re so bloody stubborn, you know that?” But there was no bite in his words. If anything, he just sounded very, very tired. Lucy touched his chin delicately. He didn't really think she'd listen to him did he 😅? Poor baby, I couldn't help but notice how tired he was in this exchange too. He sounded like he was stating facts more than having a conversation with her 😔.

Together, they sat, listening to the shrill squeaks and squeals of Charlie’s violin. All the while trepidation sank deeper and deeper into their bones. Although the image of Tommy having to sit and listen to the screeching noises of Charlie's violin always makes me giggle, I've never really looked at this scene and it's deeper meaning until your descriptions. They're constantly trying to simultaneously keep up some normality for Charlie's sake, all while internally losing their minds with stress with everything going on. I wonder if they both ever ask themselves if it's all worth it?

“She likes the life, ey? Well, find one that hates it. Look at him,” Tommy gestured to Arthur. “That’s what he did, and now he’s chairman of the board.” I never really understood what Tommy meant when he said this. Seems pretty counterproductive coming from a gangster 😂. But I can definitely see why Lucy picked up on this comment in particular. She's already pretty fragile when it comes to her own self worth in Tommy's life, and she has a tendency to pick apart small remarks like this until she's convinced herself that Tommy doesn't want her 😩.

How could he not fall in love with Lizzie? She was sweet, beautiful, the mother of his child, and he had known her for years. It's interesting how Lucy only ever points out Lizzie's nicer qualities. Because those far and few between positive aspects of her are often completely buried under the hatred Lizzie shows 😬.

Once that happened, she would be done for. Because when Tommy loved someone, really loved them, like he did her and Grace, he would do anything for them. Why can she never see herself in this equation too 😭? I know he often fucks up when it comes to noticing Lucy's need for reassurance, but I fear she'll never fully see how much he loves her. And I feel like this is only going to get worse as the series continues 😬.

Lucy snorted. As if Michael had any reason to be mad after he’d just lost all their fucking money. Ha, exactly Lucy! Urghh I loathe him.

I love how you explored what Polly would potentially have felt about the situation if things did continue to get worse while she was still there. Because as much as Tommy and Lucy are right about Michael,and as much I think Polly would have agreed with them, there is no fucking way she'd let Tommy take him out. I get the impression that Tommy really doesn't give out second chances to people he's not romantically involved in.

Loved this chapter, hun. I'm eager to see Lucy and Gina's interactions in the next parts 😬!

Part 26: Do You Love Me

Summary: Tommy and Lucy begin to suspect Michael of a far worse betrayal than what happened on the stock market.

Word Count: 6,076

Warnings: Violence and insecurity.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 4: The Seeds You Have Sown

Lucy rubbed at her eyes with the heel of one hand as she descended the stairs sluggishly. The house was always disconcertingly quiet in the mornings. Even more so with Lizzie and Ruby gone. Normally she got up with Tommy, which helped to cloak over some of the eeriness that the huge house exuded in the early hours. Especially in her dark, isolated wing of the mansion. 

But this morning she had woken up alone. Well, the second time she woke up, she was alone. The first time she had stirred at movement beside her, rolling over with an arm seeking out Tommy’s space beside her in the bed only to find it empty.

“Go back to sleep, love,” he had said, large hand passing over the top of her head. Rather than laying beside her, he was sitting on the edge of the mattress, already mostly dressed. 

“Mm. Why aren’t you here?” she complained, patting the spot next to her, even as she nuzzled back down into his pillow.

“There’s something I need to go check. Won’t be long.”

“Want me to come?”

“No, sweetheart, just go back to sleep,” he kissed the top of her head.

She drifted in and out for awhile after that, but it was hard to find true sleep without him there. Finally, she’d risen out of bed with a sigh, yawning and stretching and slouching her way over to the wardrobe to pull on her clothes for the day. 

Dressed and at least half awake, she was just making her way to the dining room in the hopes of finding a warm breakfast waiting for her when Charlie came exploding in through the front door. His shoes clattered loudly on the floor as he raced towards her. 

“Lucy! Dad wants you,” he skidded to a halt, nearly colliding with her. “He’s outside in the garden.”

“Charlie, what–”

“Miss. Winters, there was a phone call for Mr. Shelby’s office phone that he just missed,” Frances appeared to her left. “And Mrs. Milligan is here for Charles’s violin practice.”

Who the fuck has violin practice this early in the morning?   

“Alright, um, Charlie, you go with Frances to your lesson–”

“He said I’m to play extra loudly today,” Charlie giggled. “Because there might be some bangs outside. Do you know why, Lucy?”

Her blood went cold, eyes snapping to the windows. Suddenly wide awake. She looked back at Charlie, forcing what she hoped was a reassuring smile to pull at her lips. “Yes, Charlie. I think I do. You said that he’s in the garden, did you?”

Charlie nodded.

“Right,” she turned to Frances, who had gone a little pale. “Where’s the teacher?”

“In the drawing room.”

“Charlie, go with Frances to see Mrs. Milligan. Frances, keep everyone inside until we get back.”

“Yes, Miss. Winters.” Frances took Charlie by the hand, quickly leading him away. Lucy waited until they’d gone before running to the cupboard in which they kept a small artillery. She snatched up a tommy gun, some extra ammo, and raced outside. 

She found Tommy seated on the grass by the barren fields, smoking and rubbing at his face with hands smeared with dirt.

“What’s happened?” she asked, hooking the strap of the submachine gun over her shoulder. Her eyes darted around wildly, searching for any signs of danger but finding none. Until her gaze landed on the middle of the field, where a scarecrow was erected on a wooden cross. Lucy stared at it, breath catching in her throat. 

They didn’t have a scarecrow in the field. Not at this time of year, anyway. There was no point when there wasn’t anything planted in it anyway.

If she squinted she could make out that it was dressed in clothes eerily similar to Tommy’s daily attire: a dark coat, trousers, waistcoat, and white button down shirt, with a pocket watch dangling from its neck that glinted in the sun, and a peaky cap a top its burlap head. 

Tommy looked up at her with bleary eyes, chest heaving up and down. 

“There are landmines in the field.”

“What!?”

He nodded, gesturing with his cigarette towards the scarecrow mounted in the center of the barren stretch of mud. “All around the scarecrow. Fucking miracle that I didn’t step on one.”

“You went out there?”

He nodded. “There was a message pinned to it. Look down on earth and see the seeds you have sown,” he shook his head.

“Fuck,” she looked out at the field, watching whisps of white mist float across it. 

“In our own fucking garden, Lucy.”

“Yeah.” Already, her mind had begun to work. Who? Who would do such a thing? They were not lacking for enemies, but she struggled to immediately think of any who would be so bold as to do something like this right under their noses. 

“Charlie almost stepped on them. He came running onto the field to get me. If I hadn’t grabbed him in time…” Tommy trailed off, shoulders shuddering. Lucy’s lips parted, eyes widening. A sick feeling twisted in her stomach at the thought of what could have happened to their sweet boy. A hand went to his shoulder, clapping onto it both for stability and in an attempt to offer comfort. 

Distantly, from within the mansion, she could hear the sounds of a violin starting to play. She closed her eyes against the sound. Normally, she wasn’t particularly taken with Charlie’s violin playing. Often she caught herself wishing he’d chosen a less…shrill instrument to learn. Like the piano or even the harp. But today, she relished in the shriek and squeaks of the bow against the strings. 

“He’s okay,” she said, to Tommy and to herself. 

“Yeah.” He heaved out a massive sign, head bowing. She rubbed back and forth across his shoulder, feeling the tension in his muscles even through the material of his coat and the shirt he had on underneath.     

“What do you want to do about the mines?” 

“We need to take care of them,” he heaved himself to his feet, “so no one risks getting their leg blown off if they step out there.”

“Alright,” she unhooked the strap of her gun from where it was secured on her shoulder. “Should I shoot at the ground from over here, or…?” “No. They’re only around the scarecrow. I think.”

“You think?” 

“If there were ones anywhere else in the field, I’m pretty sure there would be bits of me scattered all over the garden by now.”

She cringed at the mental image, heart twisting upwards into her throat. “Don’t joke about that.”

He looked over at her, saw the expression on her face, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, kissing the top of her head. “Sorry.” He reached for the machine gun clutched her hands, but she pulled it away. 

“What are you doing?”

“Well…I need…” he had enough foresight to look sheepish at what he was implying. 

“I’m not letting you walk back out there alone.”

“Luces, please…”

“No! I’m not just going to stand here and watch you get blown up.”

“It’ll be fine–”

“Then you should have no problem with me coming with you.”

He closed his mouth, eyes narrowing down at her. “You’re so bloody stubborn, you know that?” But there was no bite in his words. If anything, he just sounded very, very tired. Lucy touched his chin delicately. 

“Look who’s talking.”

A ghost of a smile danced on his lips for a second. “You really would rather risk getting blown up with me than just wait right here?”

“Yes,” she said, without even a moment’s hesitation. His eyes softened, and he didn’t even need to say anything for her to know that she’d won. 

“Alright, then,” he sighed, looking back towards the scarecrow. “Just stick close to me, yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

Through the mist, Lucy could just make out the outline of another tommy gun laying on its side in the mud. He must have dropped it in his haste to get Charlie out of the field. 

“Come on.”

She followed him towards the gate that led out into the rows of soft, damp earth. She was careful to stay behind him and follow the path he cut through the mud, since he knew where the landmines were. He scooped up his gun where it lay on the ground, shaking dark tendrils from his fringe that had fallen forward out of his eyes. Immediately, he started firing upon the scarecrow. He emptied an entire magazine into it before coming to a halt, releasing the magazine drum to let it go tumbling to the ground, sliding a second one into its place with a click. Lucy’s finger found the trigger of her own gun, raising it once she came to a stop at his side. Squinting at the dirt around the scarecrow, she squeezed her finger around the trigger.     

The ground around the scarecrow erupted, dark soil and boiling flames exploding with a furious blaze into the sky. They were standing close enough for Lucy to feel the heat from the explosions on her face and smell the charred scent of smoke and burst metal. 

The explosions came one after the other as they swept the ground with bullets, setting off landmine after landmine, each bursting in its own mini inferno. 

And then all was quiet. 

Black smoke roiled upwards, rolling over itself, momentarily blotting out the sun above them before being broken apart by the wind. 

“You think that was all of them?” Lucy asked, lowering her weapon, glancing over to see Tommy doing the same.  

“Yeah. We’ll have to dig them up later.”

“Not now?”

He shook his head. “Charlie said that there was a phone call for me.”

“Yeah. To your office phone. Do you think it has anything to do with this?”

“Maybe.”

Mist danced around their ankles while he started to lead the way back to the house. She eyed him as they walked side by side. His entire face was pinched with stress, shoulders wound ever tighter than usual.

Michael was supposed to be coming back today. She knew that Tommy had been dreading the day; the tension within him seeming to build more and more as the date grew closer. 

Not that she could blame him. She felt it too; that sense of deep, approaching dread building in her stomach, hairs on the back of her arms standing on end, alarm bells blaring in her ears that danger was approaching. 

Once they were inside, she took a quick detour to lock both of their guns back up in the artillery cupboard before meeting him in his office. He was already on the phone when she slipped in, cocking it slightly when she came over to stand next to him so she could hear static crackling through the receiver, and then the buzz of the line ringing.

Whoever was on the other end picked up, and for just a second, she heard Michael’s voice before it was silenced. And then an Irish lilt filtered through the receiver, the voice introducing herself Captain Swing. Lucy’s brows pinched, stomach twisting into knots as Swing explained that Michael had been caught onboard the ship he’d taken from America, in his cabin making deals with men in Belfast who wanted Tommy dead. In the background, Lucy could hear the faint sounds of Michael’s voice, screaming that Swing was lying. 

Swing offered that she could have Michael killed then and there, or she could send him home for them to deal with. Tommy chose the latter. 

At Swing’s revelation that Michael was discussing with their enemies how they’d divide up the racetracks after they’d blown away Tommy’s legs, Lucy froze. 

That was a very specific way of wording things. And a very specific type of death. 

Her eyes shifted to the windows, looking out at the misty field. Despite the mines they’d detonated around it, the scarecrow was still standing on its cross, the wind ruffling its clothes.

How did she know about the mines?

Either what Swing was saying was true, and Michael had been in on the planting of them, or Swing herself had been involved in some way.  

“What the fuck,” Lucy said, soon as he’d put the phone down. Tommy looked as if he were seconds away from a stress-induced stroke, turning his back to the room to instead stare out the window while lighting a cigarette. “Do you really think…?” “I don’t know,” he shook his head, voice dropping to a whisper. “I don’t fucking know.”

It wouldn’t be entirely out of the realm of possibility for Michael to betray them. He’d done it before, during the vendetta. But at least then he’d had the excuse of choosing loyalty towards Polly over Tommy. 

“Fucking kid…” the shock was beginning to give way to rage. “We should never have taken him back in.” If it weren’t for them, he’d be some boring accountant, probably for a firm in London somewhere. Or maybe still trapped in that little village that he hated so much. How fucking dare he try to move against them? “He’ll be in Liverpool soon. Assuming that Swing actually lets him go and he doesn’t try to run. I could go to the station and assess him. Find out if anything that Swing said was true.”

“No.” 

She opened her mouth to argue, but Tommy put a gentle hand on her arm, drawing her in closer to his side. 

“I think that if either of us were to see him right now, we might kill him on the spot. I’ll send Polly and Arthur to pick him up.”

“He might not even show.”

“Then we’ll have our answer.” He lifted his cigarette to his lips, movements slow. 

“Even if Polly and Arthur clear him, I think we should quarantine him for a while. Just to be safe.”

Tommy nodded. “I’ll have him and the American girl he’s bringing with him put up at the Midland.”

“Good idea.” The Midland belonged to them. All eyes and ears employed within its walls were theirs. Every phone call, every activity, even every fucking thing that Michael ate would be reported to them. 

“And have some of our boys see what they can find on this Captain Swing and her people.”

“Will do.”

There was the click of heels against the floor outside, and then a few rapid knocks on the door. Tommy’s chest heaved with his sigh, lifting a hand to scratch at his brow. 

“Come,” he called, voice gruff, not turning from where he was still staring out the windows. His voice sounded very far away, and Lucy knew that he was currently locked within his own head, turning each and every possibility over and over in his mind. She inched a little closer to him, and when his arm draped around her shoulders, she looped her own around his waist, hoping that the warm press of her body against his side would help to soothe him. 

Frances came in, bringing with her inquiries from the violin teacher about the bangs she’d heard. Tommy waved away her concerns with an explanation of testing fireworks. One glance at the housekeeper’s face, and Lucy could tell that she didn’t believe him for even a second, but knew better than to pry.

“Also, will Mrs. Shelby and Ruby be home for dinner tonight?” she asked instead.  

“I don’t know.”

Lucy looked down, feeling the all too familiar pang of guilt wash through her. They’d had next to no contact with Lizzie since she’d left. Both of them too afraid of making things worse if they did not allow Lizzie her space. 

But God, it was eating her up not being able to see Ruby. The little girl was like a bright beam of sunlight in the otherwise dreary, melancholic house. The whole place seemed a shade darker in her absence.   

Surely Lizzie couldn’t keep her from Tommy forever. Despite everything, she was still his daughter. She would have to let him see her sometime. 

Him, maybe. But not you. You have no claim to her. No matter how much you love her.

She squeezed her eyes shut. The idea of never seeing Ruby again made her want to curl in on herself and weep. 

Approaching footsteps had the three of them starting and turning to see Charlie standing in the doorway, violin clutched in his hands. Excited to show Tommy the new tune he’d learned that morning. 

“And what have you learned, my boy?” Tommy asked, and Lucy detected that he was making great effort to lighten his tone so Charlie would not notice the deep tension practically radiating from him. He slipped down into the chair behind his desk, a hand on Lucy’s waist urging her into his lap. She settled there, arm around his shoulders and head leaning against his.

Together, they sat, listening to the shrill squeaks and squeals of Charlie’s violin. All the while trepidation sank deeper and deeper into their bones. Regarding Michael. Regarding whoever had planted those land mines in their garden, like deadly flowers waiting to bloom in a fiery inferno. And regarding the danger that seemed to be coming at them from each and every direction. 

∗ ∗ ∗

They stepped into the Garrison to find it utterly trashed. Broken glass crunched under their shoes, half filled and empty glasses littered the tables, and spilled booze seeped into the floorboards. There were only two people occupying the pub: a girl, who roused at Tommy scrapping a barstool against the floor to perch on, and Finn, who remained fast asleep spread out in a booth despite their less than silent entrance. The girl rushed to gather up her clothes and hurry out the door at Tommy’s command.

While he and Arthur set to work dealing with Finn, Lucy grabbed up a broom from the supply closet and started sweeping up some of the broken glass littered all over the place. They seemed to get through to him alright, though Lucy couldn’t entirely shake the wariness that had settled within her when it came to Finn. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it was something not unlike how she always felt around Polly. That instinctual knowledge that, no matter what she did or how many times she proved her loyalty, Finn would never truly accept her as a part of the family. 

At his mention to Tommy that he’d found a girl he wanted to marry, she started. Jesus, she kept forgetting that Finn wasn’t a kid anymore. In her mind, he was still that little boy running throughout the streets of Small Heath with dirt smeared across his face, grinning as he weaved between the adults’ legs at the betting shop. 

That might explain some of his recent behavior, however, what with the running head-on into danger half-cocked. Whoever this girl was, he was trying to impress her. 

“Tell me about her,” Tommy requested. 

“She likes the life.”

“She likes the life, ey? Well, find one that hates it. Look at him,” Tommy gestured to Arthur. “That’s what he did, and now he’s chairman of the board.”

She frowned, grip tightening on the broom that she was holding, catching her lip between her teeth to worry at it while she shifted uncomfortably. Finn was dismissed, though Lucy barely noticed.   

Was that what he really thought? That all of them were better off with women who hated the lives that they’d chosen to live? 

She did not fit into that category. But Lizzie did. 

Of course he missed his daughter and wanted her to come home. Lucy missed her too. But it had not even really occurred to her that he may be missing Lizzie as well. 

Her fear that Lizzie would someday replace her was a constant, forever presence in the back of her mind. Sometimes it was quiet, hardly even a whisper to be heard. Other times it was a scream, a blaring siren warning her to brace herself for heartbreak that surely would be coming at any moment. The volume of it ebbed and flowed like the tide. 

His words ran on a loop in her head, doubts growing. Maybe the type of person that she was no longer appealed to him. Maybe Lizzie was what he really wanted. A nice, normal woman. Not some basket case who woke up most nights screaming from nightmares, or who flinched at unfamiliar touches or loud noises. Who didn’t find even the smallest enjoyment out of the sport or kind of work that they did. Who rode a horse sidesaddle rather than with a leg on either side.          

Did she like the life anymore? She honestly couldn’t say. The life had caused her an awful lot of pain, as the aches in her shoulders or the twinges in her heart so often liked to remind her. But it had given her Tommy. And if the life of a gangster was what she had to lead to be with him, she’d do it all again in a heartbeat. Without even the smallest hesitation. 

She swallowed hard, shifting uncomfortably. A combination of excitement and dread opened up inside her at Arthur’s report that Lizzie and Ruby would be home later that day. She couldn’t wait to see Ruby. But the idea of having to face Lizzie, especially after the fight they’d had and Tommy’s latest comments, left her feeling nothing but anxiousness. 

Tommy started to give Arthur orders for how to handle Michael once he arrived from Liverpool, but she barely heard him. 

She knew that Tommy cared for Lizzie. That had never bothered her. She cared for her too. But the idea that he might someday fall in love with her terrified her. Because if he loved her the way that Lizzie so desperately wanted him to, there would be no room for Lucy in his life anymore. No love left for her. 

A part of her had always figured it was an inevitability. How could he not fall in love with Lizzie? She was sweet, beautiful, the mother of his child, and he had known her for years. Even longer than he’d known Lucy. It was impossible that he could spend so much time in such close proximity to her–both emotionally and physically–without certain feelings beginning to bloom. 

Once that happened, she would be done for. Because when Tommy loved someone, really loved them, like he did her and Grace, he would do anything for them. And the first thing that Lizzie would ask of him would be to toss Lucy out onto the street like an unwanted dog. 

Everything she had, she had because of Tommy. She was not naive enough to think otherwise. Without him, she would lose everything. Hell, he was everything to her. Some days, she doubted she would even be alive if it weren’t for him. What would she even have to live for? Without Tommy she was completely and utterly alone. 

“Lucy?” Tommy called, and she started, realizing that he had stood and gone to the Garrison’s doors, waiting for her to follow him.

“Sorry.” Setting aside the broom she was holding, she wiped her hands down on her overcoat and moved to trail him outside, giving a sharp shake of her head to try to dislodge the thoughts banging around uncomfortably inside her mind. 

“You alright?” he asked, once they had made their way to the station and seated themselves in a compartment on the next train headed for London. The floor vibrated under her shiny black boots as they started to pull out of the station, beginning the journey south. She looked away from where she was gazing out the window with her knuckles resting against her lips to find Tommy eyeing her, mild concern shining in his eyes. 

She thought about asking him what he meant by what he’d said in the Garrison. But she didn’t have the courage to open her mouth and let the words come out. Too scared by what his answer might be.  

“Yeah,” she said, instead, shifting so that her temple leaned against the cool glass of the window. “I’m fine.”

∗ ∗ ∗

“Excuse me?”

Lucy looked up from her desk into the face of a bald man with a pointed nose and a dark mustache. He had his hat clutched in his hands, running his fingers along the fine material.  

“Yes?”

“This is the office of Thomas Shelby, correct?”

“It is.” She put down her pen. From his desk across from hers, Adam shot her a nervous look. “How can I help you?”

“My name is Stacker. I need to ask Mr. Shelby some questions. Is he in?”

“What sort of questions?”

The man shifted from foot to foot. “There was a shooting two days ago of a journalist who was in here to meet with Mr. Shelby the night before his death. I’d like to speak with him about it.”

“You’re police?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Police aren’t allowed in here.”

“I’m here in a very…unofficial context.”

“Mm,” she cocked her head, both of them aware that wasn’t truly the case. But flat out sending him away might do more harm than good. “Adam, go find Mr. Shelby and tell him that there’s a policeman here to see him.”

Adam nodded, standing and slipping past Stacker to rush out the door. 

“You can wait in his office,” Lucy said, standing and walking around Stacker to open the double doors, leading him inside. “Who’s your Chief Constable, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Chief Constable Wyatt, Miss.”

She nodded. Good. They knew Wyatt. “Mr. Shelby will be here in a moment. Can I get you something to drink, while you wait?”

“No thank you. I’m alright.”

She went out into the front office, plucking up a folder from her desk and flipping through it to appear busy while waiting for Tommy and keeping one eye on Stacker. The policeman prowled around the office, examining the papers and trinkets spread out on the big desk, then moving to inspect a painting of a white horse surrounded by a golden frame and hung on the wall behind Tommy’s chair. He didn’t touch anything, though Lucy was sure he was making mental notes about all that he was seeing. 

Heavy footfalls announced Tommy’s presence, entering the office with his briefcase in hand and Adam trailing in behind him. 

 “His Chief Constable is Wyatt,” she murmured into his ear. He nodded.

“Five minutes, then come tell me I’ve got an appointment or something that I need to get ready for so he’ll leave.”

She nodded, going to lounge behind her desk while he went in to deal with the officer. 

Just another day in Parliament, she thought to herself as she lit a cigarette, puffing smoke up towards the ceiling, keeping an eye on the clock for when she would need to rise and rescue Tommy from the clutches of the lawman.

The police investigating Levitt’s death wasn’t a particularly unexpected occurrence. Nor was them coming here to talk to Tommy about it, considering that Levitt had died not long after seeing him. Their boys had done good work on the hit, giving it enough flourish to send a message to any other journalists looking to try something, all while ensuring that the police wouldn’t be able to link it to them easily. If at all.  

Didn’t mean that their poking and prodding around wasn’t annoying, though. She had hoped that the police would simply assume that Levitt’s death was a result of conflict caused in his personal life, and they could avoid being pulled into the investigation all together. But apparently not. 

The clock chimed, and she rose from her seat, grabbing up some documents that she needed Tommy to look over anyway, going back into his office just as the last chime sounded. 

“Mr. Shelby, you have a meeting with an MP from Essex in a few minutes.” She reported, placing the documents she’d brought in on his desk. Tommy turned his gaze onto the policeman.

“Your time’s up, Mr. Stacker.”

Stacker said nothing, throat working. Whatever Tommy had said to him before she came in, it had either given him pause, or made him very angry. Perhaps a bit of both. His eyes flickered between them, and then he rose from his seat. 

“Thank you,” Tommy called to his back as he retreated from the room.

“Did it not go well?” Lucy asked, once she heard the door close shut behind Stacker, watching Tommy’s face while he moved around his desk to his chair. 

“He’s suspicious. But I don’t think it’ll stick. If it does, I’ll have a word with Wyatt about him.”

“Alright.”

Tommy’s eyes shifted to the clock. She glanced over her shoulder at it. 

“Arthur was supposed to call me at three,” he huffed, as they watched the minute hand tick over to the right. 

“It’s only two minutes past, love.” She moved around to his side of the desk, touching his shoulder. “Arthur isn’t always the most punctual.”

He just grunted, and she smiled fondly at his grumpiness, rubbing his shoulder a few times to try to massage away some of the tension she felt in his muscles. When she moved to retract her hand, he caught it in his, dipping his face to peck a kiss to the back of it. His eyes squinted at her, assessing. 

“Something’s bothering you.”

She looked down and away. His thumb rubbed back and forth across her hand where it was still clasping it. She glanced anxiously towards the door.

“There’s no one who might see us except for Adam. And he already knows about us,” Tommy said, reading her mind. “Talk to me. You’ve been quiet since we left the Garrison this morning.”

“It’s…it’s nothing, really.”

“Then why don’t you want to tell me?”

She finally looked up at him. The hard wood of his desk was digging into her back where she was leaning against it. She opened her mouth to tell him, then closed it again. It all felt a little ridiculous when she actually tried to put it into words. “Because I’m just being stupid.”

His brows pinched, fingers squeezing a little against hers. “Well, now you have to tell me.”

Her lips pricked upwards. His hand smoothed up her arm, nearly to her shoulder, rubbing a few times before finding its way back to her hand, raising it back to his lips. “Hm?” His head cocked, tempting. “Come on, now, talk to me,” he said, in a voice like a honey. Lucy huffed, trying to stifle a shiver at the warm rumble of his words, struggling to gather her thoughts into coherent sentences.

“I’m happy that Ruby and Lizzie are coming home. Really. I just…” she sighed, glancing away again. Tommy’s thumb massaged across her knuckles encouragingly, his piercing gaze fixed on her patiently while he waited for her to finish her thought. But she found that she couldn’t. She wasn’t strong enough to actually speak the words that rested on the tip of her tongue.

Am I not what you want anymore?

Are you falling in love with her?

Do you still love me?

And yet she didn’t need to. Both of Tommy’s hands landed on her hips. “Come here,” he drew her in closer, head tipping back to peer up at her through his dark fringe, gaze so softened with affection that it nearly stole the breath from her lungs. And she was left suddenly feeling very foolish that she could ever possibly have doubted his feelings for her. 

“I love you.” He laid a quick kiss on her lips. “I love you, not her. That’s never going to change.”

Her hands came to rest on the nape of his neck, skin warm under her fingers. Relief, that he understood what she was trying to say without her actually having to utter it, had tension that she hadn’t even realized had built up in her muscles melting away. A relieved breath released from her lungs. 

She lowered her head to press her lips to his hair, closing her eyes, voice dropping to nearly a whisper. “I know.” And she did. Deep down, she always did. It was just that sometimes the voices in her head screamed so loud that they drowned out everything else. “Sorry. Sometimes…sometimes I just get scared.” 

His eyes grew sad. “Don’t be sorry,” his thumb circled against her hip. “Brains can be stupid, ey?”

A quiet laugh left her. “Yeah. They can, can’t they?”

“Mm,” humming in agreement, he dropped his head to kiss her shoulder.

The phone on his desk started ringing, popping the little bubble of contentment that had formed around them. Tommy let out a soft groan, lifting his head and reaching around her to grab at the receiver. He tilted it just so against his ear so that she could lean in and hear what was being said on the other end. 

“Arthur?”

“Yeah,” the older Shelby’s gravely voice rumbled through the receiver. “Polly says Michael’s telling the truth.”   

“Did you see him?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“He was angry with us.”

Lucy snorted. As if Michael had any reason to be mad after he’d just lost all their fucking money. 

“Got some American girl with him, too,” Arthur continued. “They got married on the ship on the way here. Name’s Gina Gray. Formally Nelson.”

“What’s she like?”

There was a snort. “She’s got an attitude on her, that’s for bloody sure. Got rooms for them at the Midland. Michael’s mad as a swarm of hornets about it, but he agreed to stay there.”

“Good. What did you think of Michael?”

There was a long pause. “Honestly, Tom…I thought he was awfully fucking defensive for someone who supposedly doesn’t have anything to fucking hide.”

Tommy nodded, looking out the window, lips pursing together.

“I have my revolver with me,” Arthur said, after a moment. “I could probably catch up to them before they even get to the hotel…”

“No. I want to speak with him first. Before we make any permanent decisions. Just have our people at the Midland watch him, for now.”

“All right.”

Tommy hung up the phone, and then let out a groan, face falling forward to rest on her chest, arms looping loosely around her waist. Lucy laid her palms on the back of his head, hugging it to her while her chin rested on his soft dark hair. 

“Well, at least we can keep an eye on him here,” she murmured. With a sigh, Tommy raised his head. 

“Yeah.”

“If you change your mind and want him taken care of, just say the word.”

“We have to be absolutely sure.”

She examined his face, understanding. It wasn’t about Michael. Not really. Not anymore. Maybe at some point it would have been, but most of the good will that Tommy had towards his cousin had dried up long ago. 

This was about Polly. 

If he ordered Michael’s death without provable provocation, he would lose Polly forever. Hell, even if they were able to prove that Michael was trying to have Tommy killed, that may not be enough to sway Polly to their side. At the end of the day, Lucy believed that she always would side with him. Even over the other Shelbys, if she had to. And understandably so. Michael was her son. 

But Tommy loved Polly enough that he would not have Michael killed. Not until he either had no other choice, or he was confident that Polly would support him on it.

Delicately, she brushed a few tendrils of hair out of his face. “It’ll be okay.” 

He looked up at her with eyes worn ragged, stress pinching at the edges of his mouth and in his brow. She stroked his face, smoothing away the lines, drawing his head in close to rest on her chest again. He nuzzled into her with a sigh, eyes sliding closed and cheek resting comfortably atop her breasts. 

She wished terribly that there was more that she could do for him. All she wanted was to be able to help him. To help lessen the burdens that he carried. But there wasn’t much more that she could do. Not now, at least.

So instead, she just held him.  

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

[piko-rose]

My Personal Headcanon On Why Amy's Love For Sonic Died Down Lately (and their dynamic)

When they were younger, Amy's love for Sonic was pretty extreme, and Sonic was, understandable, uncomfortable for the most part. He knows she means well, but that girl needs to calm down.

She can fight, but sometimes her hammer could only stun her enemies for a while. (It took her a long time to get rid of that robot that has been chasing her around Station Square.) She wasn't fully independent yet, even if she fought on her own a couple of times.

She often follows Sonic and his friends around. She is part of the team, but she was not a strong as she is now at the time yet.

She admires Sonic. A LOT. And Sonic knows that. Obviously, he could only run away from something like that, since he is NOT ready for that kind of thing, and whether Amy takes the hint or stop, she still loves him.

...BUT, I think things were slightly starting to change between her and Sonic after Lost World.

Remember this line?

You remember that? Okay, okay. Here's another totally unrelated question:

Before the events of Lost World, when was the last time Amy said "I love you" to Sonic out loud?

...YEP. 😈 (Unless I'm missing something, let me know lmao)

As more games and adventures come out, the characters get slightly older, and Amy is 12 to 13 now, and she is most certainly at that age where her body starts to change, but especially on how she views Sonic.

She knows she loves Sonic, but it was this moment during her change where she actually wanted to admit that she loves him.

I believe that Amy was all about sharing her affection to him not through confessions, but through obvious hints. Sonic totally got it, and there was no need to confess. Sonic knows she loves her.

...But she never said it. And she almost did, but she never did again for a while.

I think this was the moment in her life where, oh, God, she actually loves Sonic. SHE LOVES HIM, WHAT.

And she was looking back at all the times she had with Sonic that she can now see were unpleasant to Sonic (At least that's what she thinks) and that's probably why she isn't so expressive about her love to him than how she used to back then.

She wasn't sure what to do with this realization, and sets aside it for a while, and nearly stayed as her casual, peppy self... until the Eggman War happened.

During the 6 months of being with the Resistance, fighting Eggman's army all day and all night, all she can think of was Sonic.

She dreams that he still with not just her, but with her friends. She just wanted to see Sonic again, she just wants to be with her hero again.

But I'd like to think that she was also thinking about how she used to treat Sonic back when they were younger, how Sonic would almost always run away from her whenever she asks him out, or always look so uncomfortable whenever she gets so close to him.

Cringing at those memories big time, she wanted to change and hopefully when Sonic is okay and comes back, she can be better for him.

...Or will he still find her uncomfortable regardless? Would he even be happy to see her at all if he did survive?

But, hold on! She can't just give up her love for Sonic! He made her who she is today! A peppy, nature-loving, hammer-swinging, confident, brave... loud-mouth... annoying... Sonic obsessed... weak... pathetic... lonely little girl.

If she gives up on Sonic, it'll be like she gave up on the one hedgehog who saved her life. If she didn't she'll still be the same ol' Amy.

I also like to think she had parents a long while before she met Sonic, and was even expecting a little sister, but a robot invasion happened from where she was and attacked her parents and instead of trying to save them, after getting hurt, she ran away, hoping that they'll come back okay. But they never did.

She was all alone, and needed someone, a friend, a new family, someone who will hold her hand, anyone, to be there for her. But she was ignored by lots, and at that point, she's better off by herself, but still longed for company.

Eventually though, her tarot cards told her her future hero, and there might be hope after all. She encountered Sonic, held onto the belief of the cards tight, and the rest is history.

So, with that headcanon in mind, not only did Amy loose her parents that she didn't save because of her cowardliness (she was only so little at the time that happened) and also Sonic, who she thought will be her only hope, but now gone.

She doesn't even care if he did come back, he'd probably hate her now after everything she did to him, always talking about their "future wedding" or forcing him to go to Twinkle Park.

For the last few months of the war, it was nothing but Amy mentally beating herself up for either refusing to change or moving on, and they are both not fine choices.

She loves Sonic, but he does not love her, and she finally, finally realized it. And it's probably for the best if no body loved her at all.

But of course Sonic did survive and all of her worries wash away in an instant, she's just not expressive about her love for Sonic AT ALL now, since she's still worried about it but rather not mention it to Sonic because it doesn't matter.

If Sonic doesn't love her, then her feelings don't matter to him, and according to Amy herself, that is okay.

But also, I'd like to think that Sonic was thinking about his friends a lot up in the Death Egg for the past months, sometimes it's Tails (worried for his safety), sometimes it's Shadow (because he's wondering why he would join Eggman.) At some point, for a few days, Amy was in his mind the longest, and he felt bad about how he thought he was rude and pushy to her.

He wondered if she's not thinking about it too much, and if she is, will she give up on him? Yeah, he doesn't feel the same and still not looking for a relationship, but it's so strange but interesting how anyone could ever like someone like Sonic the Hedgehog. Amy was never afraid to show that, and she probably might be now.

He couldn't help but feel guilty. They were kids when she was like this, but he was so... arrogant at the time too. Not a lot happened at the time yet. He'd always have trouble expressing how much he value his friends, until he shattered the Paradox Prism. (I'd like to think Prime took place before Forces. It makes sense.)

She is such a sweet girl, and he probably made her believe that he didn't care for her. Just because he doesn't feel the same, that doesn't mean he hates her at all.

He wished he never ran away from Amy... Worrying for his little bro and wishing to be a good person for Amy was when Sonic cried in the Death Egg for the first and only time.

Frontiers, in my opinion, is kind of confirming their dynamic now. Sonic is a lot more sincere and kinder to Amy and she is not all hyperactive and lovey to Sonic. There is probably a real reason for this now.

They are both hiding their feelings from them, and they are both unaware of this. Amy, hiding her mental issues from Sonic, and Sonic, hiding his guilt away from Amy.

None of those things are important now. Sonic is with Amy and Amy is with Sonic. They are here with each other. They can be finally be better for each other now.

They don't care if they'll ever be something more when they get older. None of that matters anymore. They are here with each other. They can be finally be better for each other now.

Maybe someday they'll both talk about it, but for now, the present is important. They care about each other too much to think about it right now.

It's the kind of love that is unbreakable. It doesn't even have to be romantic. It's just love. Love is important for everyone, in any form. It's something Sonic and his friends need. And especially Sonic and Amy.

Amy Rose is the living embodiment of love, and without her, a lot would go downhill for Sonic and co. Heck, if it weren't for her, Shadow wouldn't have never remembered Maria's promise, which lead him to save the world with Sonic, before he temporarily disappeared from their lives for a while.

She is always there to lend a helping hand for anybody, even bad guys like Metal Sonic, and despite what she had been through, both in Forces and headcanon wise, she still fights back, even without her hammer.

She will pick you back up on your feet, reminding you that you are important and that you are loved, and that you should never give up. It's pretty much the words of encouragement she herself needed also...

She is still the happy, hyper, butt-kicking hedgehog we all know and love, but she still need someone to pick her back up on her feet after so long. Thankfully, she has her friends and her blue hero. The hero who made her who she is today.

I think Amy has no idea how important she thought she is, but Sonic does. Sonic knows fully well how important she is to a lot of people. It's about time he returns the favor to her. It's his turn to remind her how much a lot of people love her.

How much he loves her.

And I feel like The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog was the moment where their dynamic really shined, but also the starting point of their relationship not only healing, but also the next chapter of what's to come for them.

Everyone, friends old and new, gathered around for a special birthday. A birthday for the confident, unshakable, and radiant Amy Rose.

It was such a special moment in Amy's life. After years of chasing and following the people she look up to, she is part of the team, but most importantly, she is part of the family.

She is fully realized as someone more than just a fangirl, but someone strong, courageous, creative, kind and a big inspiration for others.

I feel like this moment here...

-is where Amy is eternally grateful to call her friends her family. A family she thought she'll never have again. She's not alone anymore, and as long as they're by her side, she'll never will be again.

Her chasing days are over. She's finally caught up to them. She's finally home.

And it's all thanks to Sonic.

If it weren't for him, she'd probably be alone forever. Her past moments with Sonic might be embarrassing to look back on for a while, but they are good memories regardless, because they involve him.

Sonic saved her life in more ways than one, and despite everything, he's grateful to have her too.

He cares about her. He really does... And in her eyes, that all she needed to know. As long as Sonic loves her in his own way, she'll be happy.

Amy hasn't given up on Sonic. As long as Amy always supports him, he'll be happy.

Maybe sometime in the future, they can talk about their problems, but that's a story for another time. At this point, they need to. Right now, they are happy. They are okay.

They are here for each other. They are finally better for each other now.

"You guys won't ever leave me, right?"

"Wouldn't dream of it."

[thelonelynindroid]

His only deanfense

[fernlessbastard]

hot take moment cwilbur is literally just psychotic as all hell and i think people got way too comfortable villianizing the shit out of a man who was clearly portraying signs of severe mental illness. cwilbur was like im so fucking paranoid and scared and i think everyone is out to get me and hurt me and ive spiralled to the point i cant reach out to the people closest to me because im so afraid and lost in this spiral and im having constant panic attacks and hurting myself because i dong know what to do with myself and the only way out for me is to die. and everybody was like EVIL MAN WHO ENJOYS HURTING OTHERS AND IS ABUSIVE ON PURPOSE AND A VILLAIN AND SHOULD NEVER BE TRUSTED AGAIN. and then he came back and was like im still deeply troubled and afraid but im desperately trying to make up for the wrongs i did in the past and the people i hurt in my own way and communication is really hard for me but i hope people know that im truely sorry and i love them. im going to try my hardest to fix this in the only way i know how and then respectfully remove myself from the situation because i feel thats the kindest thing i can do to the people ive hurt. and people were like ABUSER ABUSER ABUSER EVIL MAN ABUSER. like girl

Yeah no based true real no questions asked

I'd hope I manage to portray Wilbur the way he deserves in my content, cause that man is heavily bpd coded and he just needs therapy and someone who genuinely loves him but also can handle his bullshit (which has exclusively and reliably been Quackity like, canonically)

But yeah no completely agreed. The man has issues and has definitely fucked up a lot but at the end of the day he really does need love and care and patience, but also boundaries (and therapy and meds, obviously)

[weirfq1]

with all these gaston crackships/rarepairs that are coming out lately it would be so fucking funny if he had a flig with all the main characters (ambar, nina, simon... hell luna too if you want) and they all know it except matteo

[girlivealwaysbean]

so tired of being a shitty bandaid for my parents' loneliness. like have u ever considered you passed your curse to me and some days i feel so lonely it's like i can't breathe around the emptiness in my chest????

[skrunksthatwunk]

last minute pre-grandparent-visit room deep cleaning has revealed that within the drawer i tend to assume just has old, off generic birthday cards and theater/concert programs there are also many, many going away cards and letters and things from the last couple of times i moved away. i guess i always thought of it as such a lonely thing, and i talk a lot about how i don't think i made Real friends until recently, and not to get choked up on main or anything but i think maybe i was completely fucking wrong

[franeridan]

no but talking about the beginning of the kaido fight i dunno if it's just a personality of the characters involved sort of thing but i love the difference between the way lu zoro and law interact with each other vs with kidd and killer, there's an ease to their working off each other that's missing from how they move around kidd n killer and you would say it's normal since they've spent months together by then and all three of them fought doflamingo together already, but i love that oda keeps these things in mind when writing dynamics sm

[multishipper-baby]

Hope this isn't a weird question, but since you're probably one of, if not the biggest eakwynn stan, I wanted to ask; what do you think of Oleander by Mother Mother as an eakwynn song? Don't know if you've ever heard it but I think it fits them a little and if it's not weird I wanted to know what you think about it?

I heard a few songs by Mother Mother but never this one and oh, I really see it. I've always had the headcanon that Owynn has trouble making connections with others, half because of trauma/mental illness and half because he's so destructive (both towards himself and others) that basically no one stays beside him long enough for him to become attached to them.

Enter Eak, who's forced to be by his side due to Owynn's convoluted plan- and sticks around long enough for them to actually start caring about each other. The first real connection Owynn has made in years, in almost a decade.

I don't think Owynn would ever voice the idea that he would die if Eak left, because he's too proud for that, but he'd definitely feel it. Especially because he's been so awful to Eak and his friends, so there's a good reason for him to leave. A part of him acknowledges how horrible he's been and wants to fix it, be a better lover, while another part just wants to double down, terrified that Eak will slip away from him if he doesn't keep him under his thumb. He's trapped at a crossroads between getting better, and getting so much worse.

Anyway, thank you for your suggestion! I liked it so much that it's going in my eakwynn playlist :)

[eggmeralda]

when I was 19 in 2019 I got these Vibes about 2023, it wouldn't be good or bad it would just be a Significant year

2020 was so bad that 2021 could only be better, it started good and then I got paranoid that 2022 was gonna be bad in comparison, so I mentally prepared myself for 2022 months in advance

then by the summer 2021 suddenly became worse than all of 2020 combined, but it improved by about september

bc of the mentally preparing myself months before, 2022 was amazing, but bc it started so good I got the feeling that it wouldn't end well

the last 4 months were pretty bad, and then came 2023

I got many different vibes for it over the past 4 years, but one of the main things was that there'd been a pattern going since 2015

2015: extremely good

2016: extremely bad

2017: average

2018: pretty decent

2019: extremely good

2020: extremely bad

2021: average

2022: pretty decent

so 2023 was expected to be really good? but also it had to get up from 2022's bad ending so the goodness was gradual

my brain is prepared for a good last 4 months to compare to 2022's bad last 4 months

but also following the pattern, 2024 should be extremely bad, and once I've got the thought in my head that a year will be bad, there's no going back. which would explain the extremely bad year following an extremely good year

2015 and 2019 were unreal, which meant 2016 and 2020 would've looked bad in comparison no matter what, so they just completely gave up and decided to be awful

but anyway it's 'getting paranoid about next year' season, also I can never escape the patterns of time etc etc

[deoidesign]

A general cane guide for writers and artists (from a cane user, writer, and artist!)

Disclaimer: Though I have been using a cane for 6 years, I am not a doctor, nor am I by any means an expert. This guide is true to my experience, but there are as many ways to use a cane as there are cane users!

This guide will not include: White canes for blindness, crutches, walkers, or wheelchairs as I have no personal experience with these.

This is meant to be a general guide to get you started and avoid some common mishaps/misconceptions in your writing, but you absolutely should continue to do your own research outside of this guide!

This is NOT a medical resource!!! And never tell a real person you think they're using a cane wrong!

The biggest recurring problem I've seen is using the cane on the wrong side. The cane goes on the opposite side of the pain! If your character has even-sided pain or needs it for balance/weakness, then use the cane in the non-dominant hand to keep the dominant hand free. Some cane users also switch sides to give their arm a rest!

A cane takes about 20% of your weight off the opposite leg. It should fit within your natural gait and become something of an extension of your body. If you need more weight off than 20%, then crutches, a walker, or a wheelchair is needed.

Putting more pressure on the cane, using it on the wrong side, or having it at the wrong height can make it less effective, and can cause long term damage to your body from improper pressure and posture. (Hugh Laurie genuinely hurt his body from years of using a cane wrong on House!)

(some people elect to use a cane wrong for their personal situation despite this, everyone is different!)

(an animated GIF of a cane matching the natural walking gait. It turns red when pressure is placed on it.)

When going up and down stairs, there is an ideal standard: You want to use the handrail and the cane at the same time, or prioritize the handrail if it's only on one side. When going up stairs you lead with your good leg and follow with the cane and hurt leg together. When going down stairs you lead with the cane and the bad leg and follow with the good leg!

Realistically though, many people don't move out of the way for cane users to access the railing, many stairs don't have railings, and many are wet, rusty, or generally not ideal to grip.

In these cases, if you have a friend nearby, holding on to them is a good idea. Or, take it one step at a time carefully if you're alone.

Now we come to a very common mistake I see... Using fashion canes for medical use!

(These are 4 broad shapes, but there is INCREDIBLE variation in cane handles. Research heavily what will be best for your character's specific needs!)

The handle is the contact point for all the weight you're putting on your cane, and that pressure is being put onto your hand, wrist, and shoulder. So the shape is very important for long term use!

Knob handles (and very decorative handles) are not used for medical use for this reason. It adds extra stress to the body and can damage your hand to put constant pressure onto these painful shapes.

The weight of a cane is also incredibly important, as a heavier cane will cause wear on your body much faster. When you're using it all day, it gets heavy fast! If your character struggles with weakness, then they won't want a heavy cane if they can help it!

This is also part of why sword canes aren't usually very viable for medical use (along with them usually being knob handles) is that swords are extra weight!

However, a small knife or perhaps a retractable blade hidden within the base might be viable even for weak characters.

Bases have a lot of variability as well, and the modern standard is generally adjustable bases. Adjustable canes are very handy if your character regularly changes shoe height, for instance (gotta keep the height at your hip!)

Canes help on most terrain with their standard base and structure. But for some terrain, you might want a different base, or to forego the cane entirely! This article covers it pretty well.

Many cane users decorate their canes! Stickers are incredibly common, and painting canes is relatively common as well! You'll also see people replacing the standard wrist strap with a personalized one, or even adding a small charm to the ring the strap connects to. (nothing too large, or it gets annoying as the cane is swinging around everywhere)

(my canes, for reference)

If your character uses a cane full time, then they might also have multiple canes that look different aesthetically to match their outfits!

When it comes to practical things outside of the cane, you reasonably only have one hand available while it's being used. Many people will hook their cane onto their arm or let it dangle on the strap (if they have one) while using their cane arm, but it's often significantly less convenient than 2 hands. But, if you need 2 hands, then it's either setting the cane down or letting it hang!

For this reason, optimizing one handed use is ideal! Keeping bags/items on the side of your free hand helps keep your items accessible.

When sitting, the cane either leans against a wall or table, goes under the chair, or hooks onto the back of the chair. (It often falls when hanging off of a chair, in my experience)

When getting up, the user will either use their cane to help them balance/support as they stand, or get up and then grab their cane. This depends on what it's being used for (balance vs pain when walking, for instance!)

That's everything I can think of for now. Thank you for reading my long-but-absolutely-not-comprehensive list of things to keep in mind when writing or drawing a cane user!

Happy disability pride month! Go forth and make more characters use canes!!!

[astonmartinii]

little lion | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x fem young mum!reader

journalists go digging in max's past and think they've found f1's next big scandal - but they underestimate just how protective max is of his little lion

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

f1tea

liked by user5, user6 and 23,095 others

f1tea: this is y/n y/ln the supposed baby momma of max verstappen. not much is known about her, with her only going back to work recently as a therapist in monaco.

her and max had their baby, a girl, back when they were 17 in 2015. max has never been seen in public with the child and has never publicly claimed her either.

will we see her in the paddock now all the news is out?

view all comments

user7: holy shit this is insane

user8: this poor girl doesn't deserve this

user9: literally, either max is a present father and is just private or he doesn't have anything to do with them? but it coming out like this is probably stressful regardless

user10: also by my calculations, the baby will be nearly nine, so probably has a concept of fame and celebrity and if they haven't gone to a race it's probably for a reason

user11: i mean the way people are already talking about them proves them right already

user12: ted kravitz telling it like it is 🤲

user13: no he's not ??? he basically went on broadcast to call y/n a slut and try and say that he was 'always right about max because this proves he is reckless'

user14: once again, this child is eight and could understand some of this if they see it

user15: also the incidents ted is bringing up happened EIGHT YEARS AGO stop bringing a child into your weird agenda

user16: if he's not careful red bull will ban sky from their media run again

user17: i found her instagram and max, alex and daniel all follow her so it's defo legit

user18: i also found it but it's private :(

user19: i tried to follow but got blocked :/

user20: do you people have rocks for brains if it's private it means we're not meant to find it, if she's not spoken about it in eight years that means IT'S NOT OUR BUSINESS

user21: someone tell max to get a DNA test asap, gold diggers will do anything for money and fame

user22: what fame? she's got like 400 followers and has never spoken about max to any media outlet

user23: the way you people jump to gold digging allegations kill me

user24: also if max is the dead beat that sky are trying to make him out to be and y/n is a gold digger then why haven't we seen some child support claims and whatnot

user25: you have no shame posting this, if she didn't want to be found she doesn't want to be found

user26: f1 vultures at their best

maxverstappen1

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 2,389,774 others

maxverstappen1: i've seen a lot of journalists and 'professionals' trying to point score with the 'big revelation' of my daughter. sydney is the love of my life and for someone who grew up in the public eye i thought it would be best to keep my daughter away from the circus. not that i owe it to any of you people, but i see syd as much as i possibly can and i didn't want to post her or bring her to the paddock until she could make that choice for herself. y/n is a wonderful mother and is the exact support system i would want for my daughter.

view all comments

user27: MAX IS A GIRL DAD?

user28: congratulations media and internet you forced him to expose his kid

user29: the way they probably see this as a victory annoys me to my core

yourusername: you're an amazing father max, don't let them tell you anything else. sydney loves you and that's all that matters.

maxverstappen1: thank you y/n, i miss you both - see you this weekend!

yourusername: we look forward to it! x

user30: she didn't say that she loves him too so they're defo not together

user31: will you people ever learn to read the room?

user32: oh wow so max does see his daughter - watch sky still run with the deadbeat angle

user33: they were so shameless about his SLEEP SCHEDULE i cannot imagine the shit crofty is going to throw at him over this

danielricciardo: i'm sorry for how this has all come out max but i'm so glad i can publicly express my love for my god daughter!

maxverstappen1: this might mean that you can give her all of your gifts in person (if she wants to come) lord knows i can never fit them back in my suitcase

user34: you literally have a private jet?

maxverstappen1: you underestimate how seriously daniel takes being a god parent

danielricciardo: i think i'm singlehandedly keeping jellycat in business tbf

yourusername: and ikea, i have to buy a new shelving unit every couple of weeks daniel

danielricciardo: SYD IS MY BEST FRIEND LEAVE ME ALONE

user35: drop 💥 the 💥 daniel 💥 and 💥 sydney 💥 photos 💥 now 💥

user36: actually don't i don't think my baby fever can take it

alexalbon: you're an amazing father max and sydney is the coolest girl in the world!

maxverstappen1: thank you alex 😊

alexalbon: also if you ever convince y/n to come to races PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE make her bake me some of her iconic brownies

yourusername: alex you know i can just bake you some and send them to you via max

alexalbon: please 😫😫😫

yourusername: no worries albono, you're a growing boy you need the nutrients

maxverstappen1: they're brownies

alexalbon: i need y/n's brownies to deal with YOU

maxverstappen1: ok maybe this is why i don't want to introduce you all :(

yourusername: don't worry maxie i'll make you some goodies to go

maxverstappen1: thank you :)

user37: she makes him to-go goodies 🥹

yourusername

liked by feranandoalo_oficial, danielricciardo and 319,506 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: i'm not very happy that i have to make this statement like this because people couldn't respect the boundaries max and i have set as parents but alas: max is the loveliest man in the world and the best father sydney could ask for. he has a very busy life but he still makes as much time as possible for syd and she loves him very much. max has been in the spotlight from a very young age and did not want that pressure and spectacle on his own daughter. we may have never been together, but max has never been the monster you're trying to make him out to be. please respect my daughter's privacy. thank you.

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user41: once again, this is a very cute family but god this is a horrible way to find out about them :(

user42: i hope they know so so many of us are supporting them

danielricciardo: syd has grown so much i actually feel kind of sick

yourusername: i was a mess on her first day of school :(

danielricciardo: oh i can imagine ... max never told us but i'm sure he was his usual stoic self

yourusername: he tried, but we did both cry over a carton of ice cream for the whole morning

maxverstappen1: IT WAS A VERY EMOTIONAL MORNING

yourusername: it really was 🥺

user43: i'm sorry but why do two europeans have a daughter called SYDNEY?

maxverstappen1: she's nearly eight... i made my f1 debut in australia eight years ago... i can't hold your hand any more than that

user44: LMAOOOOOOO

danielricciardo: i am HURT i thought she was named after her beloved god father?

yourusername: if that was the case do you not think we would've gone for the more obvious option of DANIELLE???

maxverstappen1: also you were just an acquaintance and childhood crush at that point daniel

yourusername: omg childhood crush on daniel SNAP

danielricciardo: i'm not that old???

maxverstappen1: we have such good taste

yourusername: we REALLY do

user44: so like they're defo flirting right?

user45: ugh you people have no class (i hope so)

landonorris: i'm so sorry for you guys BUT THANK GOD IT WAS SO HARD TO KEEP HER A SECRET

maxverstappen1: i mean y/n and i kept her a secret for like nearly eight years 🤨

yourusername: i also 100% caught your slip ups you're just lucky there was never any rumour at those times

landonorris: I AM A BLABBERMOUTH PLEASE BE PROUD OF ME

maxverstappen1: fine?

yourusername: i'd be more proud but everyone else also kept the secret sooooo ???

alexalbon

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 894,503 others

tagged: lilymunhe, yourusername

alexalbon: with permission i am now allowed to post my bestest friend in the world!

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user46: god has heard my prayers and gave me my alex and sydney content

user47: i'd say what a random pairing but i think my brain just blocked out alex at red bull as a trauma response

alexalbon: lord knows i only got through being locked in the sim with y/n's brownies and hugs from syd

yourusername: syd asked for her favourite uncle to score more points so we can get ice cream again

alexalbon: i'll fix the damn williams myself

yourusername: hurry up she's getting impatient (i have no clue where she gets that from)

maxverstappen1: I AM NOT IMPATIENT I JUST LIKE THINGS BEING DONE IN A PROMPT MANNER

yourusername: is that what you tell the engineers?

maxverstappen1: ... something along those lines

yourusername: are you going to get more community service?

maxverstappen1: i don't think there were any cameras ???

user48: so max doesn't believe in not swearing around kids... how bad is it with sydney?

maxverstappen1: i am on my BEST behaviour for her

alexalbon: she's like a little sailor

maxverstappen1: in my defence she's much cuter when she swears than me

charles_leclerc: is this why she called me a wanker when i didn't bring leo to the house?

yourusername: i fear that has alex albon written all over it

alexalbon: whoops!

lilymunhe: we need another play date asap !! he goes so mushy i can get him to do all the cute dates i wanna do

yourusername: is that why i got given a badly painted mug?

alexalbon: hey! i worked very hard on that :(

maxverstappen1: i thought sydney painted it alex

alexalbon: can you guys stop ganging up on me :(((((

yourusername: no!

maxverstappen1: 😘

user49: feeling some ... tension here

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, alexalbon and 1,450,987 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: guess who wanted to come see dad at work?

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user51: oh she really is max verstappen's daughter with that cold middle finger to ted kravitz

user52: are they going to make an eight year old do community service as well?

yourusername: great now she's attached to the engineers

maxverstappen1: oh noooooooooo how will we ever cope??? maybe we should all go to every race ???

yourusername: that would be very convenient, wouldn't it?

maxverstappen1: i can see you smiling while typing, i don't think you're as opposed as you say you are

yourusername: you got me! i like to see syd happy :(

maxverstappen1: and me...?

yourusername: and you, i guess 😚

user53: so like are we just going to ignore all of this ^^ and the second picture?

user54: it would be nice that through all the shit they've had thrown at them that they got together through it

danielricciardo: he's been waiting long enough

maxverstappen1: DANIEL???

danielricciardo: what ???

user55: daniel, thank you for your service

user56: i mean we've seen them at one race and it's crazy to think they're not together

alexalbon: why did i have to track my bestie down at the hotel? you verstappens too good for the williams garage?

yourusername: we were busy !!!

alexalbon: franco is distraught

francocolapinto: i am?

alexalbon: yes!!!!

francocolapinto: i am!

maxverstappen1: stop yapping for the love of god i was getting my shit together - something YOU told me to do

alexalbon: fine... i guess

user57: so like that's confirmation right?

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, pierregasly and 2,349,855 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: i'm still reporting all you journalists to the ethics boards but i guess something good did come out of all of this

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user58: FUCK SKY SPORTS BUT THANK THE LORD THIS IS SO CUTE

user59: a family that flips off ted kravitz together, stays together!

user60: y/n's dirty look at him will forever be legendary

maxverstappen1: i've always loved you, and i've loved playing the long game with you and prioritising syd !! here's to the rest of our lives xx

yourusername: i've always loved you too but as convoluted as it has been i think this has been the best way to be - all love to syd first

maxverstappen1: but now we can cut the shit and do all the cute things without it having to be a 'play date'

yourusername: i love you dummy, but your cats are mine now

maxverstappen1: they've always been yours, just like me

user61: okay fuck you guys this is too fucking cute

user62: no because i'm too chronically lonely to read this this morning

landonorris: FINALLY, I COULDN'T KEEP ANOTHER SECRET FOR MUCH LONGER

danielricciardo: booooooo, we've all kept this secret you're not special

landonorris: i thought i was the only one who max told about his feelings? like literally on the podium when he saw y/n and syd watching?

oscarpiastri: i think you just can't read people lando, even i knew max liked y/n and i've only seen them interact THIS WEEKEND

alexalbon: we've all known forever lando, you're not getting sympathy for keeping the secret for 12 hours

user63: the grid being so protective of the lil family is so cute

user64: i read that george got the GDPA to sign a petition that the media couldn't ask about syd before max was ready to start the conversation himself

user65: also by the sounds of it, they've been rooting for this relationship just as long as max and y/n

maxverstappen1: i'm so lucky to have two amazing girls in my life, i'll love you forever and as long as you'll have me

yourusername: now i have you, i'm never letting you go

maxverstappen1: right back at you

yourusername: you're the bestest father ever and the love of my life, never let anyone tell you anything else my gentle boy

maxverstappen1: i love you both more than anything ever, you're my guardian angel and syd is my favourite little lion

fin.

note: HAPPY MAX EMILIAN VERSTAPPEN BIRTHDAY TO ALL WHO CELEBRATE !!!

[chchchchilisauce]

fucking HATE when someone has a good take but just like has to go and bring up something i'm well versed in and be incorrect about it. like. i'm not gonna be a dick and correct you esp if it's fairly inconsequential to ur argument, but like fuuuckkksaaauauagh can u just not bring up this thing if u don't know about it