#i know i’m going to get in trouble but i don’t care!!!! i just don’t care anymore!!

[moonstruckme]

Omg 8k! I’m so happy for you love! May I request hot cocoa for poly wolfstar with the prompt “new years party” or “baking together”? (whichever one you choose!)

Thank you lovely!

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 728 words

“Well, what are we supposed to give them? Crackers?” 

“I don’t see what would be so wrong with crackers,” says Remus, sounding already weary and increasingly vexed. 

“Only crackers, though?” Sirius is in a restless mood, his excitement for tonight’s party mounting and the volume of his voice along with it. “I just don’t see how it can be possible that there aren’t any grapes left anywhere in town. Was there a grape plague I didn’t know about?” 

“They were sold out. I don’t know what to tell you. Crackers will be just as good.” 

“That’s a completely different food group, darling!” 

“Sirius,” you call, hoping to spare Remus from further irritation (and thus spare Sirius from the consequences), “can you come tell me if this looks alright?” 

You’ve strung lights all across the ceiling of the sitting room, strands of blue and white overlapping and casting the whole space in their glow. Sirius’ eyes seem to glimmer as he comes in, admiring your handiwork. He’s in his outfit for the party already, though you’re both waiting until later to do your makeup together. You’ve got plenty of time; it’s only just getting dark outside, and no one is expected to arrive until at least eight. 

“This looks amazing, sweetheart,” he says, audibly relaxing. “It’s perfect; you’ve done beautifully.” 

“You don’t think it’s too dim in here?” you joke. 

Sirius grins as he walks over. You’re a couple of feet taller than him on your step stool, but he doesn’t seem to mind, touching his lips to your navel while his hands hold the backs of your thighs. You predict him and set your hands on his shoulders, sucking in a breath when he pulls you away from the step, lowering you down. 

“How’d you manage it?” he asks, looking back up at the lights while his hand runs absently up and down the dip of your spine. A few of the white strands wink in and out, twinkling above you like stars. “I can’t even see any of the hooks.” 

“They’re in there,” you tell him. It had taken you a while to figure out how to hide them well, but the abundance of lights ended up covering for you in the end. You take a piece of Sirius’ hair between your fingers, admiring the blue sheen on it. “Baby?” 

“Hm?” 

You press a kiss to his lips, gentle and loving. “Keep in mind that you’re the one who forgot we’d need food until the last minute,” you tell him sweetly. 

Sirius pouts. “Why do I have to remember everything?” 

“Because you’re the only one of us who wanted to have a party.”

“You said,” Remus recounts as he comes in, still sounding vexed but fond around the eyes, “and I quote, I’ll take care of everything.” 

“Doesn’t bloody sound like me,” Sirius mutters. His hand is still moving affectionately over your back, though. 

“Dove.” Remus graces you with a smile, ignoring your sulky boyfriend. “The lights look lovely.” 

“Thank you,” you say, squeezing Sirius’ shoulder before pulling yourself from his arms. You take Remus’ hands and look up at him with your sweetest, most imploring eyes. “Can I ask you for a favor, please?” 

Remus narrows his eyes at you like he knows what you’re about, but his lips twitch as he holds your fingers. “Hm?” 

“You know that trifle you make for Easter?” You wait for him to nod. “If I went to the store and got the stuff, do you think you might be able to make it again tonight?” 

You look to Sirius. “That’d be good, right? It might go nicely with the champagne.” 

Sirius grins at you. “Brilliant girl. I’m remembering now why we keep you around.” 

You turn back towards Remus. You can feel the power of Sirius’ pleading look adding to yours from behind you. After a long moment, your boyfriend capitulates with a sigh and a kiss to your head. 

“Alright. I’ll make you a list.” 

“Thank you, my love,” Sirius says, saccharine sweet. 

“This party is more trouble than it’s worth.” Remus turns, too slowly to conceal his smile. “If anyone tries to make me sing karaoke, I’ll shut the whole thing down before midnight.” 

Sirius’ expression looks crushed. “But—” 

“Shh.” You pat his shoulder, watching Remus go. “James’ll harass him once he gets here. Pick your battles.” 

[emistoast]

20/11 tattoo @rosekillermicrofic — word count: 728 — first time participating in any microfic thing and i wrote this on the bus to my tattoo appointment !! aimed for 500 words, got a bit carried away but hopefully it’s not horrible — warnings: implied nsfw

— — —

Evan had one rule for himself: don’t sleep with clients. It was a pretty straightforward rule, easy to follow, but this particular client was making it extremely difficult.

As soon as he walked through the door Evan knew he’d be trouble. Dark brown eyes with even darker hair, covered in tattoos and piercings (possibly more than Evan himself), and sporting a wicked grin that just screamed fuckboy.

Yeah he was Evan’s type.

He’d come in for a flash tattoo, choosing the small skull option they had and requesting it on his upper arm. Nothing difficult.

What was difficult was trying to keep a straight face while the man’s—Barty, he’d learned—warm skin was right there in front of Evan’s face and under his hands. Setting up was easy, Evan going through the movements with a precision that only comes from familiarity. He could feel Barty’s eyes on him as he worked, causing Evan’s heart to speed up. Get it together, Rosier.

“How long have you been doing this?” Barty asked curiously.

“Almost 4 years.” Evan replied, turning back to face Barty. He moved closer, flicking on the overhead light. “Lean back.”

Barty complied, leaning back against the chair and holding out his arm. Evan took a second to admire the array of tattoos covering his arm before cleaning the area for the new one.

“Here?” He asked and Barty nodded in response. After the stencil was done, Evan got to work on the tattoo. He worked quietly, only mildly distracted by the feeling of Barty’s skin under his and eyes watching him.

It didn’t take long—the tattoo was only small—and soon he was placing the second skin over top of the finished piece.

“Looks great!” Barty said, turning his arm to get a better view of the skull now resting on his upper arm.

“Fits in perfectly with the rest.” Evan commented. “Now I’m sure you know the healing process but I’ll go over it with you anyways.”

Barty nodded along with Evan’s words as he described how to properly care for and heal the new tattoo. His eyes lingered on Evan’s neck for what was certainly too long to be just admiring the tattoos visible above his collar. And he licked his lips as his eyes roamed over Evan’s piercings.

Evan suddenly felt too hot in the small room, the lights combined with Barty’s gaze making his heart race. He cleared his throat as Barty’s eyes flicked back to meet his own, watching as the dark haired man smirked slightly.

“Well as long as you feel alright, you’re free to go.” Evan said, turning away from him to take of his gloves and distract himself from the way his heart fluttered at the smirk.

“Actually I think I feel a bit dizzy.” Barty said. “Mind if I stay a little longer?”

“Oh, yeah that’s fine.” He grabbed a granola bar and tossed it to the other man. “Here.”

“Thanks.”

They fell into silence as Barty chewed on the granola bar and Evan started cleaning up. A small part of him wished this would never end, there was something comfortable about simply being near Barty.

“Your tattoos are pretty cool.” Barty began, tossing the empty wrapper in the garbage bin. “What’s the one near your neck?”

“This one?” Evan asked, gesturing to the flower partly visible above his shirt collar. It was the one Barty had been staring at before.

“Yeah. Looks like a rose.”

“It is.” Evan confirmed.

“Can I see the rest of it?”

Evan hesitated.

“I’m not asking you to take your shirt off.” Barty said in a light teasing tone. “Wouldn’t complain if you did though.”

“Oh?” Suddenly he was feeling a bit more bold, despite how unprofessional it was to flirt with a client.

Barty’s grin widened. “Considering it?”

“Maybe.”

Barty leaned closer. “You got any other clients today?”

“No.” He really hoped Barty couldn’t hear his heart beating.

A hand came up to brush across the rose tattoo, pushing his shirt collar to the side a bit before moving away to brush through his hair.

“This is a horrible idea.” Evan said, shivering when Barry’s fingers lightly brushed his ear.

“Are you saying you don’t want to?”

“I should.” Barty’s hand stilled in his hair. “I’m not though.”

Their lips crashed together before he could blink. Yeah, Evan was definitely breaking his rule.

[fmle-drven]

Bring your baby to work day

POV: You are price’s assistant. No one can watch your 6 month old baby boy, so you bring him to work!

Price x ghost x Johnny x Kyle

(Something cheesy and short)

It’s 8:03am. Already running late. You huff in frustration as you load the baby into the car seat. Your dead beat baby daddy decided to take a vacation this week and no one else can watch the baby. Luckily, you have the most amazing boss in the world and your own office. Shouldn’t be too much trouble right?

You arrive on base at 8:30am. Grabbing your sleeping boy in his car seat and your diaper bag, you hurry into the building. You try to dodge everyone. You don’t want anyone waking him up, knowing once he wakes up he will not go back to sleep. Making it to your office, you place the baby next to your office chair steadily. Peaking over the handle to make sure his big doe eyes are still closed. Letting out a sigh of relief, you sit gently into your office chair and shoot a quick text to John.

“Good morning sir, I made it. In my office, baby is asleep.”

The next hour and a half goes by quick. You’re able to finish up a few documents, put together the power point for the briefing, and managed to get a head start on reviewing the next mission. That is until you hear the all too familiar foot steps of Ghost. Panic sets in. Praying ghost doesn’t come in here.

Sure enough………

Ghost doesn’t bother to knock. He barges in and almost instantly he makes eye contact with the car seat next to you. Your eyes are as wide as his as realization sets in. Almost on cue, your baby boy starts to wail. You roll your eyes at ghost as you lean down and take your son into your arms.

“Y/N…. ‘M so sorry. I-I dinnt know ya had the lad today” ghost stumbles out. His eyes soften at the sight of the young boy, the lads face red as tears satin his cheeks.

“I’ll come get you later ghost. I gotta calm him down now” you sharply state. You knew bringing your boy in was a bad idea. Should have just stayed home.

As ghost makes his exit, you stand up and cradle your baby. Rocking back and forth whilst shushing and cooing him. You start to slowly pace the small office. Bouncing and rocking your bundle of joy as he will not let off. His high pitched screams can be heard down the hall, and most likely the training field. You bend down to open the diaper bag for his paci when there’s a soft knock at the door.

“Come innnnnn” you lowly call out, knowing someone’s here to complain.

John opens the door. His head tilts in empathy at the sight. You look up, hair covering your almost tear filled eyes. Great. You’re probably getting sent home.

“John I- ugh. I finish the notes and power point for the brief meeting this afternoon and I- fuck….” You’re stampering out as you drop the pacifier and knock over the bag while juggling your wiggling son.

“That’s great. But I heard what ghost did and I can hear the little man screaming from my office.”

“I’m so sorry.” You breathe out

John takes a second before simple saying. “Give him here.” Taking his hands from behind his vest and out stretching them.

You waste no time handing him over. A breath of relief even just for a moment. John takes the young boy in his arms. “Now now young man. We got some manly work to do.” He says as he pivots and strides out of your office.

“Don’t worry, I will take good care of him. Now get your work done dear” John says before shutting the door.

You can hear the cries getting softer, now your office is quiet. You sit back at your desk, wipe the stray tear on your cheek before getting back to work. The minutes turn into hours lost as you are about knee deep in intel for your next mission. Papers scatter your desk, chewing on your pen as you suddenly realize…….. MY SON.

You quickly run out of the office and start the search in price’s office. Empty. Next was Johnny’s. No sign of life. You almost look in ghosts office, but quickly realize that man would not have a baby anywhere near him after what occurred this morning. You start to panic. Where the hell did these idiots take your precious baby boy. He’s probably hungry, needs a diaper change. What if one of them dropped him? Oh god, you think.

You run all over the place, finally reaching the mess hall. There you see it. Johnny has your boy in his arms. Your son is tugging on his Mohawk and yanking Johnnys neck. Ghost, price and Kyle are giggling. Your son is babbling, smiling and jumping around while tugging the tuff of hair.

“He’s got me ‘air mate” Johnny laughs out, one hand trying to release the baby’s death grip.

“He’s gonna be one ‘ell of a fighta” Kyle states. He’s amazed this little thing had that level of strength.

“We outta get him into training as soon as the lamb is 18.” Ghost giggles, reaching out a gloved finger to tickle the child’s neck.

You stood in silence at the door frame, soaking in this moment. The biggest and baddest task force on the eastern hemisphere is here, with your son, treating him as one of them. In this moment, you knew your baby was the most protected child in the world. Your heart was so full. These men have just met your child yet, now he’s apart of our dysfunctional little family.

“If I would have known we had built in child care, I would have brought him a long time ago.” You cheekily call out, walking towards the group.

“ yer boy is great! Should bring ‘em more often” Johnny says with a wide smile while handing the baby over.

You prop your boy on your hip. The little one looks up at you with loving eyes. The boys hearts nearly explode. They haven’t seen you in action with the little one.

“Well, in 6 months you are all invited to his first birthday, how about that” smiling up at your colleagues. They all nod in agreement.

“Well.” You sigh out with a smile. “I best take him to go get fed and maybe a nap if we are lucky” you say, ending the sentence with a little baby talk.

“Uh……. Y/N…….. would ya mind if I fed ‘em” Ghost asks, looking down at the ground and shuffling his feet nervously.

You cock an eyebrow. “Seriously?” Asking in pure disbelief.

“Yes. I would like to feed the small child” he looks up at you with puppy dog eyes.

All the boys look at ghost as if they were waiting for a GOTCHA from ghost. You hesistate before handing off your son to him. Ghost carefully grabs the boy, holding him close to his chest and supporting his neck with his fingers. The baby looks up at the masked man, instantly grabbing on to the fabric. Curious little one.

“Alright, follow me uncle ghost, I’m gonna show you how to feed, burp and change a baby. Let go soldier.” You sternly say as you turn on your heel and guide the way.

These men have been nothing but amazing to you. But to watch them melt at your boy and treat him with even more respect is something out of a movie.

Maybe you should bring the wee lad more often ;)

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 22: This Misery We've Made

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: Approval numbers and public perception of Tommy's personal life force him and Lucy to face some painful realities.

Word Count: 3,519

Notes: Not really sure if I'm entirely happy with this chapter, but I've been fiddling with it for so long and I just need to move on. Hope you all still like it! Warnings for depictions of insecurity and references to past abuse and polyamory.

Previous Part • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 1: Too Late

“No.”

Lucy sighed, looking pleadingly into Tommy’s glacial eyes as they hardened over with stubbornness. 

“Tommy, love, we both know it would fix all of these problems…”

“As we’ve already discussed to exhaustion.” His jaw ticked. “I won’t do it.”

“Sweetheart,” she broke eye contact with him to look down at the papers settled in her lap. Her hands fiddled with her rings, gaze glued  to the infernal numbers emblazoned upon the reports, as if staring at them hard enough would cause them to shift and change. “It’s not getting any better. If anything, it’s only going to get worse.”

“The constituents don’t seem to care,” he huffed, reaching into his pocket for his cigarette case. “Considering that they elected me.”

She frowned. “Because we bribed your way in. And besides, I’m not sure if a lot of them even knew then. You weren’t exactly shouting your marital status and Ruby’s parentage from the rooftops.” Not that he’d hid it, per say. He just avoided discussing it during the campaign and while in settings related to his work. “And they might not care now, but what about when your political rivals start harping about it in the press? They’re already using it to try to shut you out of certain things. Not to mention that arsehole from Oxford who keeps using it to try to cut down all your arguments in the house.”

“Fucking ridiculous,” Tommy shook his head, lighting his cigarette and releasing a puff of smoke from his lips up towards the ceiling.

They were seated in his office in the House of Commons, the big wooden double doors that led out into the workroom that she shared with the other secretary, Adam, closed. Not that they needed to be. Adam had already gone home for the evening, as had most of the other MPs and their staff. No one would be interrupting them. It was late, nothing but darkness and a flickering streetlight visible out the window. 

She was still getting used to spending her days working in the offices of the House of Commons rather than the betting shop or the office in Birmingham. While the general decor and design of the building was not all that dissimilar–outside of just being bigger–there was something distinctively different about this place. A stuffiness and sense of propriety that served as a thin veil for the egos and superiority that radiated from so many of the men who sauntered through its halls. It was a bit of a shock to go from Small Heath, where just about everyone knew her name and she was decidedly near the top of the food chain as far as both authority and respect goes, to here where she was lucky if the MP just next door could even remember her name. In these offices, she was not the Red Demon, or even Lucy Winters. Here she was just Thomas Shelby’s Assistant. And was treated as such. 

It wasn’t all bad, of course. She still got to spend most of her days at Tommy’s side, and the work was not that different from what she’d been doing for him before. 

“I agree, but that’s the way that things are, love.” She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “And your constituents do care. That’s what these numbers are all about,” she nodded to the report in her lap. “More and more of them indicated that while they’re happy with your performance and policies, they’re troubled by your conduct regarding your personal life.” She held out the papers, and he took them with a reluctant sigh, pulling his glasses from his pocket and sliding them onto his nose so he could look them over himself. 

“Doing…doing this,” Lucy swallowed, unable to bring herself to utter the thing that, ever since Ruby’s birth–and certainly ever since he was elected–hovered threateningly over them. The guillotine teetering precariously above their heads. “It would help improve your standing with the more traditional and family focused members of your constituents. And might even open up some more doors for you here with the conservative MPs. God knows we already have a hard enough time working with them.” Bunch of racist, classist dickheads was what they were. All too eager to look down their nose at the man who had clawed his way from the bowels of Small Heath’s dirty streets to the halls of power. They already had enough reasons to attempt to shut Tommy out, they really didn’t need to be giving them anymore ammunition. 

Tommy met her eyes, and she saw a crack appear in his resolve. Deep down, they both knew that she was right. This needed to be done. 

Even if it was going to break both their hearts. 

Tommy closed his eyes, head tilting up as he released another stream of smoke from his lips. His brow pinched with stress, the skin around his temples tightening. 

She forced herself to be strong. “You know just as well as I do how important image is to the people we’re now surrounded by. And to the people you’ve been elected to serve. We can’t just…shrug off what other people think of our personal lives anymore. Presenting the image of a proper family will solve nearly all the current problems outlined in those numbers.” 

His lips pursed. He was not seated behind his desk, but rather in the chair next to hers in front of it, one leg crossed over the other. One of his hands lifted to touch the side of his face, thumb moving across his lips while he examined her shrewdly and listened to her argument.

“We can’t ignore this forever. It has the potential to ruin everything you’ve worked so hard for.” She looked him hard in the eye, beseeching him to understand. He still just stared at her, clearly fighting against the knowledge that he knew she was right. “There’s only one clear solution that I can see that fixes pretty much all problems at once.”

How many times had they discussed this? Too many to count. And he always shot the idea down instantaneously. When Polly tried to push it harder on one of their more recent meetings, he’d nearly ripped her head off. 

“Look, you know what my suggestion for a solution is. If you have any others, I’m happy to hear them.” She was suddenly in dire need of a cigarette. Sensing her need, Tommy silently held out the one clutched between his fingers towards her. She took it with a noticeably unsteady hand, bringing it gratefully to her lips. Tommy watched all of her movements closely, knuckles pressed up against his lips, frown still firmly in place. Picking up the report of his approval numbers, his eyes skimmed over the front page once more before tossing it onto his desk, removing his glasses and putting them back in his pocket.

The silence while he mulled over her words seemed to stretch on forever, only interrupted by the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the mantle. Lucy had to fight back the desire to fill it with more near nonsensical babbling. 

Why was she even arguing for this so bloody hard? She should be happy that he’d instantly dismissed the suggestion the very first time that she brought it up. Hell, she was, from a purely selfish standpoint.

Tommy’s hand dropped from where it was resting against his lips to take one of hers, thumb running along her knuckles. 

“I don’t want to marry Lizzie,” he said softly.

She met his gaze sadly. “I know.” I don’t want you to marry her either. But she knew if she told him that, she would never manage to convince him to go through with it. He’d refuse forever all on account of her feelings, even if it meant that he could lose everything he’d worked so hard for.  

The idea that he could lose it all and it would be her fault made her feel sick with guilt.

“But we’re being backed into a corner here, love,” she chose her words carefully. “Being unmarried with an illegitimate child makes some of your constituents think that you don’t value families. If you want to stop your approval numbers from dipping, and even have a shot at reelection in a few years…”

“I haven’t even thought about reelection, yet.”

She gave him a look that was both stern and fond in equal measure. “Now, we both know that isn’t true.”

His lips quirked upwards slightly, eyes warming at how well she knew him. But when he scooted closer to her, sadness quickly leaked back into his expression, lips turning downwards.

“I don’t love her.”

“I know,” she repeated, feeling even worse at the spark of relief that statement brought her. Poor Lizzie. 

He shot her a look of deep, unending regret, brushing some hair out of her face. Her eyes fluttered at the warm press of his palm against her cheek when he cupped it. “I promised you that I wouldn’t marry her,” he whispered. 

“You said that you didn’t plan to,” she corrected, recalling the conversation when he first informed her of Lizzie’s pregnancy. The things he’d murmured to her whilst holding her on the floor of their bedroom while she cried. “Plans can change.”

“I am not leaving you,” there was zero room for argument in his voice, jaw shifting stubbornly. 

“Lizzie might not agree to marry you if you don’t.”

Tommy shook his head. “It’ll be a marriage of convenience only. You and me still being able to be together is non-negotiable. I’m not budging on that.”

She smiled a little in spite of herself at his devotion, leaning her face deeper into his palm. “It feels terribly unfair to her.”

“She can always say no if she really can’t handle it. We’ll be clear about what it’ll all entail, so she doesn’t get the wrong idea about any of it meaning something between me and her. Besides, she’s been warmer towards you lately.”

That was true. Though who knew how long that would actually last.

Scooting his chair closer to hers, Tommy leaned forward, holding her face with both hands, forehead resting against hers. 

“Are you sure you’re okay with it?” he asked urgently. Lucy swallowed hard. The thought of watching him stand up at an altar and make vows and promises to another woman, of having to live under the same roof as Lizzie and share him with her for the rest of their lives…

It burned harshly in her chest, cracks forming in her already fragile heart. 

But she could live with it. It was a sacrifice she was willing to make if it meant that Tommy would not lose all he’d worked so extremely hard to achieve. 

Maybe…maybe it actually wouldn’t be all that bad. He was right that Lizzie had been kinder and more amicable towards her as of late. Perhaps she would even be agreeable to all three of them sharing a bed from time to time, like they used to. And it would be nice to have Ruby in the same house as them so they could see her more. She and Charlie could be raised as proper siblings. 

“Yes,” she said, unknowingly sealing both their fates. “So long as we don’t have to break up.”

“I won’t ever let that happen,” Tommy promised. She leaned in closer to him, hands resting on his forearms. Tommy gave her a little tug. “Come here,” drawing her from her chair, he pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her hair. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she murmured into his chest, arms winding around his neck. “I hate to say ‘I told you so,’ but…”

He snorted, lightly pinching her hip. “Yeah, yeah.” Lips ghosting across her temple, he silently urged her face back enough so that he could kiss her softly. “I mean it. I won’t let us be torn apart.”

A small smile pulled at her lips, his reassurance like a band-aid over her fracturing heart while he kissed her again. 

∗ ∗ ∗

“Well,” Lizzie said, adjusting her fingers around her cigarette, straightening in her chair. Even sitting down, she looked tall, the way in which she sat with her spine entirely straight only adding to the effect. She looked between Tommy and Lucy seated before her at the other side of the round table in front of the fireplace in Tommy’s Birmingham office. “That’s one hell of a way to propose to someone.”

Lucy winced a little at the underlayer of bitterness in Lizzie’s voice, looking down at her hands in shame.

“Technically you aren’t being proposed to until we know that you agree to our…conditions,” Tommy was much less phased by Lizzie’s reaction, puffing on his cigarette whilst eyeing her from around the vase of deep red roses on the table between them. 

“I’m pretty sure that I know what those are already,” Lizzie huffed, shifting in her seat, briefly glancing at the fire crackling away in the hearth. She looked back at them, and gave a little gesture with the hand holding her cigarette for him to continue. “But let’s hear them anyway.” 

Tommy adjusted himself in his seat, leaning forward with one of his arms resting on the table. When he spoke, his voice had taken on the commanding edge that Lucy had heard him use when giving orders to his men or family members. 

“After we are married, you and Ruby will come to live at Arrow House. You will enjoy all luxuries that the home and the title as my wife offers. All we expect is that you help take care of the children and manage things that have to do with the household. You can continue to hold a position on the company’s board, if you’d like. But most importantly,” he glanced over at Lucy, holding her gaze steadfastly before turning back to Lizzie, “Lucy and I will still get to be together.”

The area around Lizzie’s lips tightened slightly. “So you aren’t offering me a real marriage, but only one of convenience.”

To his credit, Tommy did not flinch away from her stern, accusing gaze. “Yes; that’s exactly what I’m offering you.” 

Lizzie leaned back into her chair, nursing at her cigarette as she contemplated. Lucy struggled to meet her gaze when it shifted periodically over to her, guilt roiling through her like a tempestuous storm. She’d never been able to shake the feeling that if she were not around, Tommy and Lizzie may have actually stood a chance together. And she was pretty certain that Lizzie thought the same exact thing. 

“I want you to promise that you will be discreet,” Lizzie finally said very slowly. “I will not be publicly humiliated by my husband openly fucking another woman.”

“Of course,” Lucy nodded. They already had toned down most displays of physical affection whilst in public, presenting instead as simply colleagues who happened to be good friends. Gestures of romance were saved for behind closed doors. It was not unlike it was prior to Grace’s death, when the three of them had to practice restraint to avoid a scandal. “And we’re willing to make accommodations to make sure you and Ruby are comfortable.”

“Within reason,” Tommy interjected quickly. 

“I want a honeymoon,” Lizzie said decisively. “A real one. With just you and me.” Her eyes wavered from Tommy to fix on Lucy, then darted back to him. Lucy thought she caught a glimpse of pleading in her face. 

The mere idea of them going on a romantic vacation together without her left insecurity brewing beneath her skin, but Lucy forced herself to ignore it. Considering what they were asking of her, it felt like it was the least that they could do. “Okay.”

Tommy shot her a glance. “We’ll have to talk about it,” he modified. 

Lizzie nodded. “Of course.” The clock on the mantle chimed. “I have to head home. I promised the nanny I’d be back by half past five. I can come by this weekend to work out more of the details if you’d like.”

“Yes, that would be good. You have a ride home?” Tommy asked, both he and Lucy standing after Lizzie stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray and rose to her feet. 

“Yes, Skudboat offered to drop me off.”

“Right. We’ll see you this weekend, then.”

“Give Ruby a kiss from us,” Lucy requested timidly. Lizzie shot her a smile that actually seemed half genuine. 

“I will.”

They bid her goodbye, Lucy waiting until the door swung shut behind her before sinking exhaustedly back into her chair. She was struck at how transactional the whole exchange had been. Like ironing out a business deal rather than arranging a marriage.  

The floorboards creaked under Tommy’s heavy footsteps as he approached her. Reaching out, he rubbed a hand up and down on her upper arm, bending to kiss her forehead. 

“Are you alright?”

She stuffed the guilt bubbling up within her back down, locking it away in a far corner of her mind. “Yeah.”

“I can get out of the honeymoon if it makes you uncomfortable. Or insist that you come along.”

“It’s fine,” she probably said it too quickly to be convincing. “It’s the least that we can do for her, considering.”

“I don’t like the idea of going without you.”

“Me neither,” she admittedly, finally looking up to meet his concerned blue orbs. “But it’s just one week.” She knew him better than to expect that he’d be willing to take more than that off work. “We’ll live.”

He stroked her face tenderly, brow furrowing slightly. “You don’t have to give her everything that she wants. I know that you feel bad, even though you really shouldn’t, but…” he trailed off, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, thumb brushing down her cheek. “If she pushes too far, if she’s unkind to you, or asks for something you aren’t comfortable with, all you have to do is tell me, and I’ll take care of it, alright?”

Nodding, she turned her face to kiss the center of his palm. “Thank you,” covering his hand with hers, she smiled weakly. “Congratulations on your engagement.”

“Ugh,” he made a face as though he’d just been told he was sentenced to be executed, rather than engaged to be married, and dropped his head forward until it was resting against her shoulder. Lucy wrapped her arms around him, burrowing her face into his hair, breathing in the scent of his soap and cologne. “I wish it was you,” he mumbled sorrowfully against her throat, and for a dreadful moment Lucy actually thought that she might start to cry. 

“I know.” And though she did not say it–for fear that if she did, he would call the whole damn thing off and throw his reputation and all professional prospects in the bin–they both knew the words circulating within her head:

Me too.  

When he first brought up the topic of marriage, all the way back in 1918, before Grace had even walked into their lives, she had told him that it was not something she was sure that she wanted. She was still living with the trauma of being previously engaged to a monster who hurt and abused her, and the only example of marriage she’d had was the loveless, horrific mess that was her parents. It was something he’d respected, unconcernedly promising that marriage or no marriage, he would still love her forever.

After Grace died, the topic had passed briefly every once in a while across her mind. With times changing and modern perspectives growing in popularity, it was no longer a necessity that she stop working if she were married. And with the slow passage of time, the idea of marriage no longer seemed to her like a cage to be bound and gagged within. She knew that Tommy would never expect her to change simply because he placed a ring on her finger. 

But she didn’t bring it up to him, both of them were still aching too terribly from Grace’s death. It was too soon. For them personally, for Charlie, and for either of their reputations. 

And then the vendetta had happened. And for a bit of fun they took Lizzie down to the canal for a fuck like they so often did before Grace stepped into their lives. 

If only she hadn’t still been so messed up on the topic the first time that he asked. If only she’d expressed her changing feelings on the matter with him before Lizzie got pregnant. Maybe things would be different. 

She could not say anything about it now. If she did, he would abandon this plan that was poised to solve so many problems for him. Not to mention that marrying her instead of Lizzie would create a whole new set of issues for him to deal with, some with the potential to wreck everything he’d accomplished.

It was too late.  

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[d0llsuicide]

The bass from the club pounds through the thin walls, rattling the window above my bed. I should be asleep—I’ve got class in the morning and an unfinished assignment mocking me from my desk. Instead, I’m staring at my phone, the group chat lighting up with plans I wasn’t invited to. Again.

It doesn’t matter, I tell myself. I wouldn’t have gone anyway.

I roll onto my back, staring at the ceiling when my phone buzzes. A text.

Niccolò:

“What are you doing?”

I frown, rereading it twice. We’re not exactly friends. We’ve been in the same circles for years, crossing paths at parties or school events. Niccolò always has this air of confidence, like he owns the world and knows he can do whatever he wants. He’s infuriating, really. The type of guy who gets away with everything because he’s too charming not to.

I should ignore him. But I don’t.

Me:

“Nothing. Why?”

A few seconds later, my phone buzzes again.

Niccolò:

“Come out.”

I sit up, confused. Is he joking? It’s nearly midnight, and the last thing I need is to deal with his arrogance right now.

Me:

“No.”

It takes him less than a minute to reply.

Niccolò:

“Don’t be boring. I’m outside.”

I freeze. No way. He can’t actually be serious, right? But curiosity gets the better of me, and I crawl out of bed, pulling aside the curtain just enough to peek out.

There he is, leaning casually against his car, looking like he stepped out of a magazine. He’s wearing a black leather jacket over a white t-shirt, his hair just the right kind of messy. Typical Niccolò. He sees me looking and flashes that signature smirk, raising his eyebrows like, What are you waiting for?

I grab a hoodie and head downstairs before I can talk myself out of it.

When I step outside, the cool night air hits me, and Niccolò’s grin widens.

“Thought you’d never come,” he says, his voice low and teasing.

“I didn’t say yes,” I shoot back, crossing my arms.

He shrugs, unfazed. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

“What do you want?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he nods toward the passenger seat of his car. “Get in.”

I hesitate. “Why?”

“Do you ever stop asking questions?” he says with a dramatic sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Just trust me. I’m bored, you’re bored—let’s do something about it.”

I know I should say no. Niccolò is trouble, the kind of trouble you see coming a mile away but can’t seem to avoid. But there’s something in the way he looks at me, a mix of mischief and curiosity, like he’s daring me to step into his world.

Against my better judgment, I get in the car.

We end up driving out of the city, the lights of Rome fading in the rearview mirror. Niccolò doesn’t tell me where we’re going, and I don’t ask. The windows are down, the wind whipping through my hair as he weaves effortlessly through the narrow roads.

“Do you always kidnap people in the middle of the night?” I ask, trying to sound annoyed.

He laughs, a rich, unbothered sound. “Only the interesting ones.”

I roll my eyes, but he catches the hint of a smile I’m trying to hide.

Eventually, we pull up to an overlook, the city stretching out below us like a sea of golden lights. It’s breathtaking, and for a moment, I forget why I was so annoyed with him in the first place.

“Not bad, huh?” he says, leaning against the hood of the car.

I join him, keeping a careful distance. “So, what’s the deal? You just wanted to show me the view?”

He lights a cigarette, taking a slow drag before answering. “Not everything has to be a deal, you know.”

“With you? It usually is,” I counter.

His lips twitch, amused. “Fair enough.” He exhales, the smoke curling into the night air. “Maybe I just wanted to see what you’d say.”

“To what?”

“To me.”

I scoff, shaking my head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And yet, here you are,” he points out, smirking.

I don’t have a response for that, so I stay quiet, staring out at the city. For all his arrogance, there’s something almost peaceful about being here with him.

“Why me?” I ask after a while, my voice softer.

He glances at me, his expression unreadable. “Why not?”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Maybe I don’t have one,” he admits, surprising me. “Maybe I just think you’re different.”

“Different how?”

He flicks his cigarette into the gravel, his eyes meeting mine. For once, there’s no smirk, no teasing. Just honesty.

“You don’t try to impress anyone. It’s annoying as hell, but… I like it.”

I don’t know what to say to that. Niccolò isn’t the type to hand out compliments, let alone ones that feel genuine.

“Well,” I say finally, trying to lighten the mood. “You’re still annoying.”

His smirk returns. “Good. I’d hate to lose my charm.”

We sit there for a while, the silence stretching between us in a way that feels comfortable, not awkward. For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel the weight of everything pressing down on me.

Maybe Niccolò is trouble, but for now, I don’t mind getting lost in it.

[apintofguinness]

Actually, I’m gonna keep going, because this pisses me off.

Laois reacting the way he did makes sense as someone who is enamored with monsters. If he had an interests in robots and Faline had turned into a robot, his reaction would be the same. Because he thinks that turning into a monster would be fucking awesome. Because he’s a dumb guy who forgets himself when focusing on monsters.

Laois is not sociopathic for having a reaction like that. He’s ignorant of the effect that his words have on his companions, but he doesn’t mean for it to come across as bad. He just thinks that Faline has become what he loves second-only to her.

“Faline shows Laois a degree of care and consideration that is not fucking returned at all.”

For fuck’s sake, he was willing to brave the dungeon by himself so that he wouldn’t put Chilchuk or Marcille in unnecessary danger. You know, that thing that happened in the first fucking episode?

“and speaking as someone who is autistic.”

Lily, you are not autistic. You said it yourself. You called it a “junk diagnosis.” Shut the fuck up, sit the fuck down, and listen to people who actually know what they’re talking about for once in your goddamned life.

“Autism doesn’t take over your life to such a degree that you’re incapable of taking a serious situation seriously.”

Yeah, it fucking does. As an actual autist myself, I have completely missed when people are being serious about something, due to me misreading their facial expressions or tone of voice. Because I’m fucking autistic. When you don’t realise that a situation is serious, you don’t treat it seriously.

“What autistic person are you being? Are you infodumping to people at a fucking funeral?”

Some autistic people lack awareness of social situations. They have trouble “reading the room”. I myself have felt the need to infodump as a way to distract myself from the suffocating situation of being in a room/building with people who I don’t know. It might not be appropriate, but it’s not done out of malice, only ignorance.

Hell, I once cracked a joke about another cousin’s weight gain and quickly realised that it was bad time to make it. I apologised for it and they forgave me, because they understood that I didn’t mean it to be insulting. It’s also because my family, and Irish people in general, are very prone to “slagging” people off.

Also, infodumping by itself isn’t rude. Me and my boyfriend, also autistic, infodump about stuff all the time. Because it’s how we communicate our interests and passion. It’s rude if you infodump at the wrong time or in the wrong place.

And fucking hilarious Lily calling anyone else impulsive when she flashed her tits for the reason of, and I quote, “It was fun.”

“Sheldon Cooper”

Fuck off Lily

Sheldon Cooper is a narcissist and is willfully ignorant of his friend’s feelings or needs. His friends rightfully call him out, but he never develops out of his narcissistic behaviours! He gets a girlfriend, but doesn’t become less selfish. Even in the flashes we get of the future in Young Sheldon, he hasn’t changed.

Sheldon Cooper is a terrible example of an autistic character, since he’s portrayed as a burden to everyone around him due to his own behaviours and who never changes, who his friends only ever tolerate because he’s useful to them.

“People who don’t like growing as a person”

“My tolerance for pasty blonde boys was already at an all-time low”

Fucking funny coming from the pasty white woman who pretends to not be white. Also, sit your racist, sexist ass down.

“inability to follow the plot”

Also, I love how Lily calls Marcille the only character who isn’t a lunatic when, you know, Chilchuk is right there. Holding the one brain cell. Hell, Marcille’s great idea to get a mandrake was to tie a bird to it and hope she didn’t die when she heard its screams. Chilchuk is the sanest member of the party, not Marcille.

And all of the party members have quirks. Chilchuk is the straight man, Marcille easily panics and is the one most resistant to eating monsters, Laois is obsessed with monsters, and Senshi lives in the dungeon itself, which speaks to his own mental state.

“Autistic people aren’t so ignorant of the world around them that they can’t perceive when they’re supposed to take something seriously.”

Yes, we are, Lily. A lack of social awareness is one of the most defining traits of autism. You sound like one of those kinds of people tell me that I’m just “using my autism as an excuse” for when I fuck up in social situations. Cuz I’m fucking autistic.

And do you know what’s infantilising, Lily? Having someone claim to be autistic so they can speak as an authority on something they know nothing about, speaking over the people actually affected by what they’re saying.

“Laois’ inability to pay attention to anything around him is what kickstarts the fucking plot.”

Laois was focused on how hungry and tired the party was before and during the dragon fight. He was panicking because all of them could have died. Due to how resurrection works in DunMeshi, it’s not guaranteed unless you have someone like Falin able to do it. So, there was a big threat that none of them were about to make it out of the dungeon alive.

“Everyone gives shit to Marcille!”

Yeah, they give shit to every member of the party. Laois catches massive shit in the armor episode, while Chilchuk gives huge shit to Senshi for being reckless with the traps in the trap episode. Almost like they’re a party of dysfunctional weirdos and get on each other’s nerves.

Pictured: Some of the “worst, most one-dimensional world characters ever written.”

Okay, I recognise only a few of these, so let’s go through them:

Lysandre’s goal is to destroy the world in order to rid it of what he feels is ruining the “beauty” of the world. And yet, he knows that this goal will kill Pokemon, which he sheds tears over, showing that he does have some depth to him. But he’s not one of the worst characters ever written.

Pearl’s entire character is learning how to live for herself, after years of living for others.

Korra is an abrasive character who puts too much of her worth into being the Avatar, and slowly learns throughout the series that this behaviour is reckless. She develops into a more mature, responsible person by the end of the series.

Also, love how Lily just claims that you could remove Hunter from The Owl House, despite him being tied to the main antagonist. She says this about Laois too, despite him being Falin’s brother and the protagonist.

“I hope you get beaten to death with a rock.”

Oh, I love it when Lily goes all ‘internet tough girl’. Don’t cut yourself on that edge.

“writing sibling relationships become a more present muse of mine”

Oh? And why is that, Lilian dear? Could it possibly be because of your sister’s accusations of molestation, rape, pedophilia, and having an incest fetish?? Hmmmmmm?????

And would you look at that! A mention of Baldur’s Gate 2, where you downloaded a mod where you can romance your sister! Which you called one of the best rpg romances you’ve ever seen!

Alright, that’s enough goblin-posting for today. Hope you enjoyed my rant.

This was the video that she said, "weebs were being transphobic, so i had to delete it and re-upload it."

I asked my autistic friend to watch this to get his thoughts on it the bottom is his response.

Him: "okay I just gotta say. Some autistic people are not as aware of themselves as others I can totally see an autistic guy having that kind of reaction. Inappropriate, sure, but I don't think he likes what happened to his sister(I'm pretty sure it's his sister) I think he's just reacting to what's in front of him. Like holy shit I was kind of with her at first but she is so goddamn annoying it's hard to be on her side She is so fucking full of herself and refuses to be wrong about anything."

Me: so it's ableist?

Him: Oh extremely. But I'm mostly caught up on this lady just being an asshole in general.

[laniidae-passerine]

see I am very disjointed from a lot of nine/ten fandom discourse because I genuinely believe that in a different world where space boy was not to be seen, had an older Rose gone to the hospital and bumped into a certain Doctor Jones by a vending machine or as she was taking Rose’s vitals, she would have instantly hit it off with Martha. and probably flirted with her a little on accident and then on purpose when Martha flirted back

[lucky-clover-gazette]

i would like to not wake up wanting to cry. like can we maybe not start the day like that as a default, brain. can we do that.

[caterpillarinacave]

I am having such a not good time

[binders-and-beanies]

If u tell a trans disabled person to call the cops or tell someone else to call the cops abt them u do not care abt that person’s safety

[flutterby5]

.

[starlooove]

Making my vs siblings? More likely than u think

[void-tiger]

Maybe I’m doing pretty well at containing this, actually. Or at least not the WORST about it…

[floral-hex]

health whining

Dilemma: breathing trouble. Still. For weeks. Another bad night where I’m afraid to go to sleep.

Options, if I go somewhere:

ER. No copay. Can go right now. Will most definitely feel shitty for presumably wasting their time and will probably be told to see ENT (ENT appointment in almost 2 weeks but issue is affecting me NOW).

Urgent care. There is a copay. I’ll have to wait 2 more hours. If equipment is needed (I dunno, endoscopy scopes. Who knows), they most definitely won’t have it. Will also probably tell me to go see ENT.

[i-luvsang]

i hate being on the verge of tears in public !!! and it’s about fucking kpop i need to get a grip!!!!!!!$;73&38&2$.!’$/$3!/‘j$€{€!{£&jhhdjdhwijwgeieiehhejeiddggdneiwiwhuwjeieuebidnejskaowhhrbdieiruruidieieiehndozi&$:$£7:)3&k$$;$&jhdhiahJh

[terraos]

Me when i call out 30 mins before my shift because nobody answered the phone when i called 5 times last night after the war on throwing up was almost lost 5 injured 23 missing