#in the way it will get worse before it gets better it will be hard before it’s easy anything worth fighting for is diffcult

[kisses4reid]

scare | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,, (part 1)

synopsis - you’re in a relationship with some one else and have a pregnancy scare, both your own reaction and spencer’s makes you realise that you’re not happy.

genre - bau!reader x spencer, friends to lovers, multi-part, pregnancy scare, reader has sort of a douche bf, one sided love (at first), angst and fluff

warnings - pregnancy talk, mentions of sex, unhealthy relationships, stress, sickness

w/c - 1.4k?? take a guess cause that’s mine.

a/n - i’ve got 9 weeks free. yeah, i have a job. and yeah, i have about 6 other hobbies i enjoy. but am i gonna make promises i can’t keep about writing more?? yeah. i am. here, enjoy. (pls lemme know abt mistakes it’s rlly late at night rn.)

The plane whirrs, small chatter from Morgan and who you assumed to be Penelope over the phone humming along with the music you try to distract yourself with. It isn’t working.

Because every song has its own special and quirky musical instrument that happens to sound like a message notification. And you keep getting your hopes up.

Your left leg started to bounce, your fingernails found their way to your anxious teeth. And Spencer noticed.

He noticed about halfway through the case, when you stopped talking as much, started drinking an influx of water, started discreetly taking pain medication. At first, he thought it was a simple stomach bug, and he knew your stomach didn’t agree with a lot of travel. But then you started getting nervous.

Spencer glanced at you a few times before moving, sitting next to you (attempting to be discreet). He can’t be discreet though, because every time he’s around you, his body does this weird thing where it can’t decide whether it should be instantly calm or instantly more nervous. Your presence stopped his fidgeting hands, his tired thoughts. But god, when he looked at you, it’s like his heart wants to see you for itself.

And right now his heart hurt, why were you scared?

You barely noticed Spencer sit down, usually you would, but your phone was annoyingly blank, silent. You turned it off and on three times, and re-entered the plane’s wifi password five times.

And now your stomach was grumbling, and not in the way that those nice small sandwiches can help out with.

“Are you okay?”

You jumped, taking your earphones out and staring at Spencer surprised. You laughed nervously, quietly, “Spencer! Sorry. Yeah, I’m fine.”

His warm eyes searched yours and for a second you could ignore the tight feeling in your chest. It made you think back around 8 months ago, when Penelope, your childhood best friend and now co-worker, created a pros and cons list for both Lloyd, and… Spencer.

It was unprofessional and inappropriate, especially when you decided to listen because you had nothing better to do. And especially when she started making some good points.

He squinted his eyes, and you sighed.

“Sorry, I’m just a bit antsy. Feeling a bit… off.”

You felt sick, and stressed, and like your thoughts were going to be the cause of your death. Because you’ve never been sick like this. And to your overworked brain, it only meant one thing.

Spencer’s a great profiler. And although the team collectively agreed to not profile each other, it becomes hard for Spencer when the girl he’s in love with is so obviously in distress. Even worse when he can’t be the hero.

“I can leave you to sleep if you want.” He says, getting up to leave.

“Oh, no. That’s okay. Honestly, I think sleeping would just make it worse.”

Ah, right. Travel sickness, Spencer thought. He gaps his mouth slightly and nods. He relaxes into the couch and looks over to you, heart picking up slightly as pieces of hair fell from your loose ponytail.

You looked over to the table he was previously sat at, the book you gifted him last Christmas open and nearly finished. You smiled to yourself, but it was bittersweet.

“You’re actually reading it?” You asked, looking back at him with slight surprise.

“Of course. I’ve read it 6 times already, it’s a great pallet cleanser- Just like you said in that Christmas card!” He smiled childishly, like he was recalling the first snow.

“I know right! It’s so simple but interesting, I mean I’ve only read it three times but to me I always found it to clear my head.”

Spencer angled himself towards you, “Did you know that the author actually interviewed his daughter’s teachers to see what ages teachers were more invested in compared to class sizes? He said in an interview that depending on a students intelligence, there’s an underlying emotional connection made between student and teacher,” he took a breath, “It plays into the intelligence to ego ratio that so many people claim isn’t true. Which I’m not trying to say you have a big ego, or that I do-“

You waved you hands, “Woah, woah. Why would I think you’re talking about me?”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “Well, you’re very intelligent.”

“Oh!… Thanks for thinking I’m intelligent, or smart.” You shrugged, “But I think you insulted yourself. You don’t have a 187 IQ for nothing do you?”

“You remembered my IQ?” He laughed nervously. His smile warms your chest like a candle. Like that candle he got you randomly in April, after you mentioned your favourite one being used up by your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend. Ugh.

You smile falters for only a second, “Of course. You only mention it to every person that second guesses you.”

He nods and smiles, “Must be my ego.”

You laugh, subconsciously bumping your shoulder with his. But- Jesus. Your stomach is queasy.

“Hey, uh, do you want some travel sickness pills?” He reached over for his satchel but you grab his forearm and smile as convincingly as you can.

“No, no. We’re landing soon, but thank you.”

You’re overreacting.

That’s what he said. When you texted your boyfriend of a year and a half that you thought you were pregnant he said, You’re overreacting. Two words, two hours after your first text, on his day off.

Maybe you are. You started feeling sick on a slightly more gory case, it’s lasted ever since the case started, you get travel sick as well.

The headaches are from the computer screen and stress. The stress is from fatigue. The fatigue is because of the lack of sleep. The lack of sleep is because of the headaches.

Why do you always do this? Always thinking that there’s something wrong with you. Always being the biggest person in your own life, selfish.

But… what if?

There’s a sudden squeak from behind you, and you instantly snapped out of it. You took a deep breath and looked at your surroundings. You were at your desk, standing, the strap of your bag clutched in your hands - god, your knuckles were white. Your eyes darted in surprise and confusion, and you jumped once again when Spencer spoke into the silence.

“You okay?”

“Um…”

You didn’t look back at him, only looking down at your shoes and taking a deep breath. You plastered on a smile despite the bile collecting in your throat.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve gonna go, the bus leaves at um…”

You took out your phone. He didn’t even respond to your text asking him to pick you up.

“I’ll drive you home. But uh, I gotta pick up some groceries. I hope you don’t mind.”

He curved to your desk and gently took your bag from your hands, glancing at the way you traced your knuckles and how the leather strap now had slight wrinkles in it. He smiled, warmly. And he started walking like you rejecting the idea wasn’t an option.

Which is wasn’t, because he knew you too well.

“Well, a cucumber actually has 3% more water than watermelon. So if you really want a refreshing snack, cucumber is your man.”

You smiled and raised your eyebrows in interest. He’s had many vegetables and fruits in the basket, not a lot of protein. Explained a lot.

My man, you thought with a smile.

My man, you shivered.

“I don’t like cucumbers.” You said like it was distraction, and he nodded, picking up some kewpie mayo as he you around to the next aisle. He glanced at you,

“I know. You say it’s tasteless. I like it.” He shrugged.

“I know.” You smiled, and he smiles back.

God, you wish you could bask in it, the warmth. But your chest was still tingly, and your heart hadn’t stopped aching ever since you got excited about an email notification.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay? I noticed you’ve been tense for like… a week.” He grabbed some pasta sauce and put his hand on your shoulder to turn you around - you obviously looked too far into your own head.

“Yeah, just feeling-“

“Y/n.” He turned to you, stopping your venture into the dairy aisle. His eyes were hard, worried. The fluorescent lights swayed slightly. A worker walked by the end of the aisle with a trolley full of food.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t,” he lifted one arm, wanting to rest his hand on your upper arm, to help you, “Don’t say sorry. Just tell me what’s going on.”

“I have been feeling sick. That’s true. And I’ve been stressed and, thinking a lot. A lot.”

It felt weird to nearly tell Spencer about your relationship problems. It was like complaining to a doctor about healing crystals. It was like a slap in the face. Maybe that’s why you never did tell him about it, because it was facing your fears.

It was the pros and cons list made by Penelope.

But I’m overreacting.

“It’s nothing.”

Spencer sighed. You had that habit, of nearly opening up, and then shutting the door just as he was about to walk in.

You heard his sigh.

“Okay. I gave Lloyd my car because he has the day off, and he likes going to his friends houses on his days off. And, I told him something that should probably freak him out. But he doesn’t really care. I don’t think he really cares, about anything. At least about me.”

You started walking, because holy shit you’ve never said that out loud before, and Spencer followed you,

“Y/n, if you want to tell me something-“

“I think I’m pregnant.” You stopped, and started picking at your fingers, acting as if it was admitting to not knowing your left and rights, or that you don’t really like coconut.

His eyes widen, and his heart drops. It was like his worst nightmare coming true- jesus, how could he even think about himself right now? The girl he loved felt trapped with a man she thought might be the father of her baby.

Spencer gulped, “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

You looked at each other, scared, you more than him. And then you cringed,

“God, I’m sorry Spencer. I shouldn’t have said anything-“

“No- Y/n, it’s fine. I’m glad you told me-“

“I haven’t even, like, taken a test yet-“

“Wait so-”

You spun on your heel and looked at him exasperated.

“So… let’s go get some tests.” He said (he hopes) calmly. He was really trying, to pretend to be calm and collected. That’s what you needed, a clear head to replace yours.

He paid for everything, even the 5 pregnancy tests and the over sized lollipop you put in the basket to ease your nerves later on.

The moon was high, you were about three hours late to get home now, and your head was attacking itself with rambles and aches and honestly, you were sick of it.

You shivered, huddling in your jacket and drawing only slightly closer to Spencer. His silence was like a hook, drawing you in closer and higher and taking every word you had been thinking that day to the tip of your tongue.

You looked up to him. His hair fell into his eyes, the breeze reddening his cheeks slightly.

It’s Spencer. You’ve known him for nearly 6 years, but it feels like you’ve known each other for ever. You know everything about him, and he knows everything about you. Well, not everything. He doesn’t know how you feel in your own apartment, how every anniversary had been forgotten even when it was the ‘1 year’ mark, how you felt like you were raising an over grown child who could drink.

He knows you’re strong, but admitting all that? I’d look weak.

You have looked weak in front of Spencer. He stayed overnight in your hospital room, he held you when you watched a little girl die, he wiped your tears when you watched a sad short film during your break.

You couldn’t hide anything from him.

“I don’t think I’m pregnant- Well, I mean I might be, but there’s a very low chance,” You started, Spencer’s jaw clenched for a millisecond, “I’ve just been feeling sick and… it could be because of stress from work, or just general stress- like, I don’t know.”

Spencer moved the grocery bag to his other hand.

“Kids are great, don’t get me wrong. Some people don’t get the chance to have kids. I mean…” You gulped, and Spencer finally looked down at you. But now, all you could do was stare at the car park’s concrete floor. Speaking out loud was like clearing your brain, the fog was lifting. “Lloyd doesn’t want kids. I do, at least in the future, not right now. I just hope it’s not with-“ You cut yourself off, and slow down a bit. Spencer matches your pace.

I just hope it’s not with him.

He gulps, and clears his throat, looking down at you with understanding eyes, “With everything that’s going on.”

“Yeah… yeah. You know, my job, my…” It’s no use lying to Spencer. He knows. He’s known, for a long time.

Your chest was tight, and you made eye contact with the pregnancy tests lying on top of Spencer’s groceries. The thought of going home, rushing to the bathroom, avoiding your boyfriend who was already waiting angry, made your throat close up. Because only now, when you were three hours late from work and ignoring his one attempt at a phone call, Lloyd texted, ‘I think you need to calm down.’ It was a bare minimum, and finally Spencer could see you realizing it.

No, ‘Wre you okay?’, ‘What’s making you think this?’ ‘Where are you?’

No. He was making you out to be the crazy one, the one to be over thinking, over bearing, too much.

You were confused. To put it blankly. And scared. And questioning your life decisions. And honestly you just wanted to curl up in a ball and to have Spencer make you bad cucumber salad at his warm apartment.

You looked up to Spencer but he was already looking down at you, reaching for his keys and nodding, “You can come to mine, it’ll be okay.”

taglist (open) - @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m @aurorsworld @theoraekenslover @c-losur3 @littlelearningbrat @khxna @laurakirsten0502 @cultish-corner

[darlingdaisyfarm]

👁️⃤ evil!Ford x reader

author note: okay im sorry for post spamming but this idea been sitting in my mind for too long and I had to write smth about it, would be glad to read your opinion on that Ford x reader dynamic!^^

so this is a bit of an au situation where evil!Ford is working with Bill now. in this version, reader is Ford’s former ex partner, someone who used to be close enough to him to know his work better than anyone else, including the equation Bill wanted from Ford in canon. Although here Ford doesn’t know the equation anymore, but you do

You’re trapped.

The chair beneath you creaks when you try to move, your wrists aching from the coldness of the handcuffs that keep your hands pinned behind your back. Your breathing is shallow from fighting, your throat feels dry from screaming, but you keep your head high. Defiance in your eyes, even as Stanford’s gaze burns holes through you.

He sits across from you with his legs spread wide and his elbows resting on his thighs, watching you. You squint, noticing a little glow of that infernal symbol on his wrist. Bill’s mark, his new goddamn religion. 

“You’re only making this harder for yourself, darling.”

You don’t answer, you won’t give him the satisfaction.

Ford leans back in his chair, tilting his head as his eyes drag slowly over you. “Still playing the martyr, i see,” he drawls, unable to hold sarcastic laugh. “you always did have a flair for the dramatic.”

“Fuck you,” you spit.

“Oh, but, sweetheart,” he says, standing now. “you don’t get it, do you? you can’t win this.”

“You think you’re protecting them,” Stanford continues. “Stanley, the twins. You think they’ll thank you for this? For your stubbornness?”

“You won’t touch them.” you answer through clenched teeth. 

Ford crosses the room in a few strides, towering over you now and it feels like his shadow is swallowing you whole. His hand comes up to grip your chin, forcing your face upward to look at him and you don’t recognise him, instead of your Ford, it’s a shadow of a man who’s sold his soul, body and mind, to something far worse than the nightmares you’re used to. Ford digs his fingers into your skin.

“Just tell me the equation, that’s all i want. you give me what i need, and this—” his eyes flick down to the cuffs, to the bruises blooming on your wrists, “—this ends.”

“Go to hell.”

His grip only tightens, and his jaw clenches. For a moment, you think he might snap, might lose that careful control he prides himself on. But to your surprise, he lets out a low, bitter laugh, releasing your chin and pacing a step away.

“Always so stubborn, it’s admirable, in a way. Stupid as fuck, but admirable. But we both know i can make you talk.”

Before you can react, his hand is in your hair, yanking your head back sharply. You gasp, your neck arching painfully as his face appears damn close you feel his breath against your lips. God, this is not how you imagined kissing Ford. Not after he joined Bill Cipher.

“What’s with that fear in your pretty eyes? I won’t bite, not unless you ask.” 

“Fuck. . . you,” you say again, but the words sound weaker this time and you hate the fact that even after Ford Pines isn’t the man you remember, you still feel attached to him.

Noticing your hesitation, Stanford’s lips curl into a smirk, and then he’s kissing you, if you can even call it that. Ford is forceful, rough, demanding, his kiss is nothing gentle, his other hand grips your jaw to keep you in place he takes what he wants, biting your lips, his tongue sweeping into your mouth and he groans when you make a pathetic muffled sound.

When he pulls back, your lips are swollen and you swear you can taste the metal, your skin burns from how hard he squeezed it.

“I can do this all night,” Ford trails his long fingers down the side of your neck, brushing the pulse that races beneath your skin. “You’ll give in eventually. . . they always do.”

“I hate you.” but you don’t believe your own words.

That truly makes Ford laugh, the way you say it so dead serious, with that cute glare when you both know it’s not like that. 

“Hate me?” he repeats in mockery, as if the very idea is absurd. His fingers tighten in your hair, pulling your head back to force your eyes to meet his. “Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night, sweetheart?”

You glare up at him, biting down on the words that threaten to spill from your mouth.

“Funny. That’s not what my muse showed me. Not in your little head, darling.” he talks, savouring every word, enjoying your reaction as you already have panic written all over your face. “let me tell you, in there, you’re begging for it, desperate for me to fuck you.”

Your heart slams against your ribs and the air seems to vanish from your lungs. 

“All those filthy little thoughts you try so hard to hide. I had no idea my ex-lab partner was such a slut?”

You feel mad and humiliated at same time, your face burns, but you clench your jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.

“Oh, don’t give me that look, sweetheart, we both know exactly where it’s gonna get you.”

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LADS Xavier: Horror Games | SFW Drabble

Had this idea earlier chatting with the group. Just. Xavier things. Cute boi. Happy guy. I love him. Also this is completely unedited so you're welcome in advance. Typos are a paid actor in my works.

Pairings: Xavier x Reader Warnings: Horror Games Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

Technically speaking, this had all been your idea. You had seen a new horror game that had just come out and were itching to play it. The only issue was the fact that you tended to clam up while playing scary games, so you opted to simply watch.

Which ended up with you here, sitting on the couch with Xavier. Your legs were touching under the blanket as you leaned into him, watching the screen with interest.

He had a casual expression on his face, clearly enjoying playing the game as his fingers fiddled with the controls. He was doing well despite it not being a combat-based game, and he was quick to figure out a few of the puzzles.

Your issue was his bravery. He never hesitated to do anything in this game. This meant it was going by faster than you expected, and the deeper he got into the game, the worse it got. Your heart already felt like it was going to pound out of your chest as you jumped slightly at some of the background ambiance in the game. Your hand bunched up his white hoodie, and he looked over at you for a moment.

"Are you still doing okay?" he asked, noticing how terrified you looked. He was just about to go through one of the doors of the game, and you were now squirming.

"Can you not open that door?" you finally said, your words coming out hurriedly as you stared at the screen. This was one of those horror games where the protagonist opened the door at an agonizingly slow pace, basically peering into the void for a second before fully opening it.

"You mean the door I need to open in order to progress the story?" he asked with a slight chuckle. He had obviously noticed how high-strung you had gotten during the game. It was hard to hide the way you flinched or almost whimpered whenever something scary happened on the screen.

"Ya, I feel like something scary is on the other side of it." You confessed, your eyes still locked on the screen. Xavier gently placed the controller down on his lap.

"Is our brave hunter scared of a few pixels on the screen?" He asked, his tone now teasing. Seeing how the controller was no longer in his hand gave you the confidence to look at him, a small cowl on your face.

"It's not my fault this game is terrifying." You huffed, crossing your arms. You guessed it did come with the territory of being a horror game, but still. You hadn't expected him to breeze through it and get to every single scary quick time event the game had to offer in the three hours he had been playing it.

Xavier chuckled, going to cup your cheek and tug on it, "It's alright, I promise, I'll protect you if anything decides to leave the TV and get to you." The thought had you whining at the mental image it provided. The terrifying monster crawled out of the TV, head twisted at an awkward angle as his crab walked over to you, the bones creaking...god, now you were freaking yourself out.

"Xavie, I want to be able to sleep tonight, you know." You complained, knowing he was doing this on purpose. He would often try to scare you just to see your reactions. How horror never really seemed to bother him was beyond your comprehension.

"That's fine; you can just sleep in my bed tonight. I can protect you better if you're in my arms." He said, and you blushed slightly. It wasn't like it was uncommon to share a bed with him; you two were dating for a while.

"I dunno; it might take more than that to make me comfortable enough to sleep." You murmured.

Xavier hummed as he thought, "Then how about...after we finish for the night, we get some warm milk, watch some cat videos on your phone, and then I'll read you a story in bed to help you fall asleep better?"

His offer was a good one, and it had you smiling, "Alright, deal...on one condition." You held out a single finger, and Xavier smiled, waiting for you to finish your thought, "Tomorrow morning, you wake up early enough to go to that diner across the street so I can get a greasy breakfast sandwich."

"You mean so we can get greasy breakfast sandwiches?" He corrected you, and now you were giggling.

"Ya, so we can do that together. Do we have a deal?"

"You drive a hard bargain," He began, then held out his hand to shake yours, "But I accept as long as you don't wake me up before the sun rises."

"Like I'd be awake by then anyway," You shook his hand, his grip tight on you as he dragged you into his embrace. He was now pulling you closer onto his lap, settling you between his legs. His arms wrapped around your waist as he clicked on the controller to resume the game.

"Alright, but first, we have to go through this door."

"W-wait, Xavier, no," And just as you predicted, there was something scary on the other side, and sadly, Xavier learned the hard way not to rest his chin on the head of someone who jumped when scared. Thankfully for him, he healed fast. Sadly for you...well, at least he kissed the top of your head.

[daisukesleftasscheek]

Dad!swansea reaction to reader also being on the tulpar or wtv that thing is called??tysm i love your ficss

ʚDAD!SWANSEA X GN!READERɞ

SUMMARY : working with your dad for pony express.

WARNINGS : SPOILERS!!! Jimmy, mention of suicide, injuries, slight Daisuke x reader.

WORD COUNT : 916

A/n : tysm I'm glad you liked my fics!

Click "Keep reading" for more!ʚɞ☟

- Swansea did not expect you to be on that tulpar with him.

- he did hear you talking about applying for a job, he just didn't expect it to be that one.

- well, now you were with him again.

- you were a chef and he was greatful for that since you were good at cooking.

- it actually made him feel a lot better to have you around.

- you were the usual you, just cracking up jokes, making silly doodles and making paper swans for him.

- and to Swansea's absolute horror, you and Daisuke clicked.

- he actually doesn't mind you befriending Daisuke, he just finds it strange how Daisuke stares at you a little too hard when you're not looking.

- you're personality didn't change, just the charming, sometimes bubbly and happy person you were.

- it helped you get along with everyone on that ship (except for Jimmy) and it made Swansea happy to know that you're making friends.

- but he did notice how you and Daisuke were a little too close to each other...

- nevertheless he enjoyed your company with him at the tulpar.

- until the ship crashed...

- Curly did not end up well, he was in the worst state ever.

- seeing how Anya reacted to that, you took it upon yourself to help her take care of your captain.

- unlike Jimmy, you made sure as gentle as possible when it was time to give him painkillers.

- finding out about the food stash only lasting for a few months made you feel uneasy.

- with that, you started feeding yourself less and less, Swansea took notice of it.

- any time he eyed your plate he only found bits of pieces of food while the others had full plates.

- he also took notice when you stopped visiting Anya to get painkillers for your headaches.

- seeing how bad your state was getting, Swansea took it upon himself to confront you (your dad is worried :{) and that's when you broke down.

- you tried to justify why you fed yourself less, you were worried about your crewmates, so you made sure to put less food on your plate so that they can have more, same reasoning for the painkillers, Curly clearly needed them more.

- Swansea felt bad, you were too kind for your own good. If he knew that you were going on that ship with him, he would've stopped you.

- things took turn for the worse.

- you found out what Jimmy had Done to Anya, you started to resent him. Jimmy didn't take it very well.

- things just kept deteriorating, Anya locked herself inside the medical room, judging by her words, she wasn't feeling very well.

- Jimmy thought it was a good idea to get to Anya through the vent by going to the utility room, and to get there, he had to go through Swansea.

- to your absolute horror, you found your dad knocked out, shards of broken glass next to him on the ground. You immediately knew who's the cause of it.

- it was too late tho, Daisuke had already crawled inside the vent Swansea had warned him not too. Causing him to sustain painful injuries.

- you've had enough of Jimmy's bullshit.

- that's it, you snapped at him.

- he was the cause of Anya's suicide.

- he was the cause of Daisuke's painful injuries.

- your dad have had enough, he couldn't bear seeing Daisuke in pain anymore, so he ended his misery with a swing of his axe.

- Jimmy was irresponsible.

- you took the sharpest knife you could find, not bothering to hide it as you made your way to Jimmy.

- too bad for you, Jimmy had over powered you.

- now laying your back on the cold metal wall, pained huffs leaving your mouth, you put a hand on your sliced throat, the knife you've tried to kill Jimmy with now deep in your abdomen.

- the last thing you saw before dying was Swansea looking down at you, visibly furious as he held his axe, he wasn't letting this slide.

- too bad, Jimmy had the gun.

- now tied in a chair, Jimmy let the middle-aged man speak his last words before shooting two bullets in his brain.

- Curly was guilty.

- if he had taken action, none of this would've happened.

- if he had taken action, none of you would've died in those gruesome ways.

- this wasn't what he had expected.

- that wasn't what he had wished for.

- a bad ending.

- jk y'all.

- the tulpar was found not too long after.

- luckily, everyone had made it out alive, except for Jimmy.

- Anya was now in a better state, the hospital staff making sure to look after her.

- Daisuke managed to survive that painful swing, though, he understood Swansea's actions, but his eye sight was a bit foggy.

- Swansea survived both bullets, with one eye remaining, he was glad that you and the others were alive and well.

- speaking of which, you were doing fine, the wound in your stomach hurt and you had a bit of a problem when it came to speaking, thanks for the damaged vocal cords Jimmy.

- Curly was the one who was looked after the most, he was doing alright, he had gotten better treatment and was using a wheelchair for now.

- after the incident, you and the other hung out with each other often.

- Daisuke coming over to visit you and Swansea, he sometimes would spend time with you and your sisters, which brought you closer to each other.

- after all, you've gotten a good ending.

[mc-lukanette]

"Clear as a music note, sincere as a melody. You've been the song stuck in my head since the day we first met."

Luka meant every word of it. He hadn't known Marinette for long but he knew people. Whether one called it intuition, a sixth sense, or nothing more than a "feeling," he didn't care. Marinette was a special girl and anyone who didn't know didn't understand her. It was the way she talked, the way she laughed, and even the way she was constantly stumbling over herself because she cared so much about others.

He felt it in her designs and had seen the process himself, how she would sit in the same spot for hours until someone snapped her out of it. He wore his Kitty Section costume proudly because of it and swore that it made him play better, just by having a piece of her with him.

That was all he needed, as far as he was concerned. Whether she loved him or not was irrelevant, and he only confessed at all in the first place because he wanted to alleviate whatever doubts she'd had. He was just happy to know her and to be called her friend.

She looked so beautiful against the colorful stage lights too. Had he not needed to leave, he might've told her so. He only hoped she wouldn't run off to let them take all the credit if there were any interviews afterward. She was just as big a part of the band as he was.

He smiled and released her shoulder, turning around to face the stage where he was set to play with the others. He took one step, two steps—

and then his wrist was snagged, pulling him back. He tried to keep his balance, especially as another hand grabbed at his jacket to bring him downwards. Everything was happening too fast, his vision only able to register the blur that was Marinette's face coming towards him.

Heat flooded his system as her lips came into contact with his skin, just to the side of his mouth. She'd kissed him on the cheek before, but that had come off entirely friendly as opposed to the one she'd given him now.

"Worse" still was that he knew she'd missed her intended target in her rush, which was definitely not his cheek.

It was over too soon, but he registered the voices behind him calling him to the stage as Marinette let him go and pulled away. Despite the bold move, she looked away sheepishly and cleared her throat, her blush obvious even in the lighting.

"U-um... good luck?" she said, giving him a fluttery wave.

His shoes felt like they were filled with very selective lead, keeping him firmly in place unless he was moving towards her specifically. Alas, his bandmates were still calling and not going would've ruined all the effort Marinette had put into getting them to this point.

Thus, he turned - for real this time - and went to set up with the others.

—————

Luka somehow managed to concentrate throughout the entire performance. The nice thing about his Kitty Section mask was that he could look around freely without being noticed, particularly at the siren of a girl standing in the background watching his every move. Her fingers were steepled in front of her mouth, making it hard to gauge her exact expression, but her eyes never left his.

Each note he played felt like a pleasant shock through his body, a positive feedback loop that kept going throughout the whole song. It'd happened before when he was in a good mood, playing his feelings through the strings, but not like this.

Not after being kissed by the one he was in love with, and not on a stage where the energy surrounding him was so high. Whenever he turned to the other bandmates, they were staring at him in bewilderment, but not in any bad way. He wasn't overshadowing them or throwing off the song, he was just more of what was already there, and the stage crew was getting into it.

It was fantastic.

By the time everything was over and the recording was done, there was nothing stopping him anymore. He wordlessly passed his guitar to a confused Rose, then walked off the stage, past the crew, and past a reporter who had snuck in and was asking him questions he didn't bother listening to. He pushed his mask up and took a straight path directly towards Marinette, who was bouncing from the thrill of the moment.

"That was incredible, Luka!" she squealed. "It sounded even better than in the video! People are going to love it, I—"

He grabbed her face and kissed her. It momentarily occurred to him that he could've said something romantic like, "I only played so well because you were there," which was true, but kissing her the way she'd tried to kiss him seemed like a far more appropriate response to what she'd done.

It felt equivalent to getting to play a song she'd written just for him, which was almost a shame. Had he known she could've made noises like she was just by him kissing her, he would've suggested a different type of song for the music video.

There was a shriek in the background that was probably Rose, which he paid no mind to. He broke the kiss, but remained hunched over to Marinette's level, still holding her blushing face and cherishing the warmth against his palms.

"Did you love it?" he asked quietly, stroking her cheeks. "That's all I care about."

Her voice had raised an octave when she replied, "O-of course? I said it was incredible! I love you—it! A lot!"

She managed to fit her hands between his, covering her face with an embarrassed whine. He sighed blissfully, dropping his hands to wrap his arms around her and bury his face into her shoulder.

"I can't believe you tried to kiss me," he began, then added even though he could've left it at that, "right before I had to go on stage."

"Sorry," came the muffled apology behind her hands, though he smirked when he caught the hint of not actually being sorry in her voice. She returned his embrace, squeezing and shaking a little as she whispered, "I should've done it sooner."

When Luka had thought just a few minutes ago that he would've been perfectly happy just getting to know Marinette and be her friend, he meant it, but he wasn't about to complain about being thrice as perfectly happy either.

[elifinchsart]

Uhhh post game cap in regular clothes?

(Prolly reluctantly trying to separate himself from the uniform a bit since….. *gestures at game* all of that happend, but also not quite knowing where to go from here since *gestures at game* all of this makes me feel like trying to move on from the BBs is probably gonna be hard for him and I feel like the uniform may or may not be a comfort to him in some weird sense… Wish I could explain my reasoning better but then again I don’t even think he could .)

Oh Yeah I absolutely understand what you're getting at here. The uniform IS him in many ways- it represented his place in things both as a follower and a leader. As long as he was wearing it he knew who he was (or what his role was) and so did others. That uniform also represented all his hard work to become Inspekta’s right hand man, so it absolutely was a source of pride as well as comfort. Having the BB's disbanded and losing that position and uniform is going to be very, very hard. For the first time in a very long time he's going to have to think about who he is a person removed from a power structure that gave him purpose. He's been completely unmoored in a way. And that's going be incredibly rough- things are going to feel worse and perhaps get worse for him before he can get better. Even though he's out of a toxic situation and in a far healthier place I think it's going to be something he misses for a while. We know from Yugo's drawings that what he wore before joining the Bizzyboys and wears off the clock are more for function and comfort and that he doesn't take great care of himself or them. And why should he? He only needs to be presentable so that he's representing Inspekta well. If he’s not on the job there’s no point in dressing up. In my opinion, the contrast between how he treats his own clothes vs his uniform is really interesting and important. He wants respect but doesn't respect himself and that reflects in his clothing choices. It's also why he panics so much when his uniform gets colored in paint- suddenly he doesn't fit in and his image doesn't command power. I've drawn him in his tank top/shorts and flannel but let’s talk about what else could be in his wardrobe. After rotting for a bit I think Vibiano and the others will help/push him to get a new wardrobe. I have designed some clothes I can see him picking out. Similar shapes to his uniform, nothing too out there pattern or color-wise that would made him stand out (maybe one day he'll feel bolder)- stuff that looks nice and snappy and classy. Stuff that makes him look like a guy you'd respect- yknow? Something he can wear with pride again.

Anyway those are my thoughts/interpretations! They may be different from yours (general not just you anon) but I definitely think his clothing is important to his character! I have a stupid joke follow up to this too but I'm going to post it separately.

[angelwishess]

Rambling about Floyra again because they genuinely make me ill

Kyra and Floyd’s relationship is honestly hard to describe. Not in the way that its confusing, but its so much deeper and complex than anything i write can convey ??

They’re both people who have never had the privledge of being able of being vulnerable, let alone infront others

They’re both people who have never been truly understood. Floyd being watered down to nothing but his mood swings, and Kyra her impulsiveness.

They’ve both never let many people get too close to them. People know them but they never understand.

They are the first and only people to ever and try to understand eachother. And they do, more than anyone else. If no one else can, who better than them? They understand eachother in a way much deeper than most realize.

Floyd never needed anyone. Kyra never needed anyone. Atleast not until they met eachother. Then, they realized just how much they needed the other. And they finally understood what it meant to love one person so much it hurt.

Kyra has mood swings, just as bad as Floyd. Its just shes grown to be able to hide it, but she has to fight back the urges to just get up and walk away from it all, the urges to get violent. Being a princess has trained her to always be “presentable”.

But then she meets Floyd, whos so unapologetically himself. And he shows all of the traits she has surpressed in herself for the longest time. And he does it without a care in the world.

And it makes her realize, its not a bad thing. Having emotions she cannot control does not make her a bad person.

While Kyra is still very emotionally constipated and struggles to understand her own emotions, somehow knowing Floyd helps her know herself, too.

And, Floyd makes her feel human.

Floyd has always been seen as some sort of “wild child”. Someone to be avoided. Labeled as uncontrollable and unpredictable, treated as something to fear.

But when he meets Kyra, hes treated gently for what feels like the first time. She treats him delicately, almost like glass. She calls him pretty, and looks at him with no fear, but with pure adoration. Genuine love. And he cant help but melt from it. She looked past the person many painted him as. And saw something beautiful.

For once he isnt being treated for some kind of unpredictable beast. And for once, Kyra isn’t being treated like someone who needs to be perfect all of the time.

Two people who have never been vulnerable, find themselves being fully vulnerable to eachother. Their flaws and ugly parts all bare and on display for the other to see. So clearly exposed, for the very first time.

And yet, even after all of the flaws and imperfections, they still love eachother so purely and so genuinely. Even without having to hide their issues or hold themselves back— they could be themselves, together. Unapologetically together. They looked past the surface, past all of the grime and cracks and found something beautiful only they could truly understand.

The purest form of love, and it cannot be described as only love.

They are not just lovers, but something much deeper and much more worse. They are something that can only be described as even more than platonic or romantic. Soulmates, twin flames, eachother’s other half— whatever you want to call them. They are everything and more, somehow and in some way.

They are complex, and their bond runs deeper than any bond theyve ever had before. Not many realize it, but they dont need anyone else to realize it. They know eachother and they understand eachother and thats all they need.

At the end of the day when theyre overwhelmed and tired, they know they can find home and comfort in eachother. In eachother, they found a new freedom to be vulnerable. Within eachother they found peace. A bestfriend, a lover, a favorite person, partners in crime and in life, and something even more.

Their love was slow, patient. It developed over time and only grew deeper. A sudden realization of the obvious truth. They realized, that they’ve already given their hearts to eachother. Kyra was already his, and Floyd was already hers long before they even knew it.

To be so in love that it was so natural, basically second nature to simply just give yourself away to the other. It was ridiculous but it was their truth. Before they knew it they became irreplacable parts of their lives.

“Til’ death do we part” is a lie. Because they’ll find eachother even after that. In every universe, in every world. One way or another. They were already worlds apart, seperated from eachother in this reality; and yet still they managed to find eachother even so.

Their love is pure, unapologetic. Raging, uncontainable and raw. It shines brightly, burns bigger than any fire. It is so deeply instilled in their very beings that it was hard to believe one could love another so much. They never even thought they were capable of such a thing.

But then again, they always did have a way to bring out every part of eachother, sides of themselves they never even realized they had.

I could ramble about them even more but i’ll stop myself for now … HEHEHE

Theres something about someone who’s watered down to something unpredictable and wild, seen as an uncontrollable whirlwind of emotions that is incapable or caring for anyone but themself— melt in gentle hands. Someone who is seen as “scary” go soft and letting themselves be vulnerable in someone else’s arms … its my favorite trope and u can NEVERR tear it away from me 🔥🔥

(When I said “flings” i meant when people for some reason make him some sort of flirty play boy ?? I am not kidding the amount of things ive seen of that 😭)

A special thank you to @screamintoad for letting me yap about them 🫶🫶 ily man HEHEHE 💗

[shapard]

Sweet Delusion🌙

Lucifer x fem!reader

Tw: Gore, Violence, self hatred, trauma, mother issues, burning

Y/n Can't catch a breath, poor thing only wanted to find out why Lu hate her so much.

Disease

Chapter 1 < Chapter 2 > Chapter 3

Story Begins under the cut

The ground was cold and hard. Your buzzing head was the only thing that kept you from screaming at the pain your body was in.

Plus, you couldn’t move. 

You were sure Valentino would've at least put you somewhere comfortable. But the other outcome wasn’t much of a surprise. 

You don’t trust anyone enough to ever do something to help you. 

No. 

Not even on living humans helped each other. So, who would even consider in hell?

Who’d help a pathetic thing like yourself. Drowning yourself in self pity, that’s how pathetic you were. A whine escaped your mouth and all you could feel was both the mental and physical pain.

The door creaked open, you only saw those leather heels and white fur legs that were similar to Angel. “Kitty!” 

Who was that again? Oh right, you. 

“What did Val do to you.” You winced as he picked you up from the ground, carrying you out of the club.

It was Indeed Angel.

Everything happened so quickly, in one moment you were walking beside Valentino and the next you were displayed on the cold ground.

Now you were carried by Angel who was running through the streets. What an outcome.

You tried to talk but just a groan came out, “Stay Awake! I’ll get you help!” Help? Why would he try to help you? You tried to stay awake, and it was getting harder every second. Soon even the voices muffled around you. 

No good sign. You were just so exhausted.

Angel was in full panic mode the moment he saw you laying motionless on the ground. What has Valentino done to you, that you blacked out that bad? Charlie and the others already left and he just wanted to see if you’re alright. 

He knows the best, that Valentino can be a lot. 

He burst into the hotel, screaming for help. Valentino could’ve poisoned you or worse, hurt you with angelic weapon. 

Angels scared shouting was alerting the whole hotel. Charlie found her way pretty fast to the spider. “What happened?!” Charlie crouched to get a better look at you. You were pale and your whole body was shaking. 

“She’ll be alright.” A Voice behind Charlie said, Lucifer. “You say that so easy, she’s shaking!” Angel scratched his scalp in stress. “She’s a Sinner, only Angelic power can really harm her.” He said calmly as he sipped from his tea. “What if she’s gotten hurt from angelic power?! What then?” Lucifer rolled his eyes, “She’s being dramatic. If it was angelic, I would’ve felt it. At least sensed it. But nope, nothing, nada.” 

Angel eyes twitched, “Dramatic?” Charlie was also looking in shock at her father. “Dad, she’s hurting. How could you say something like that?” This was very unusual for Lucifer. 

Normally he would’ve helped someone in need. Most especially when his daughter cared about the person. But every time your name fell or even you were near him or Charlie, he gets the ick. 

He couldn’t explain it himself. You were just so annoying. 

Just your present alone was already enough. He wanted to help his daughter, she was too nervous to ask you to stay in the hotel. 

So, he talked to you. 

The way you talked like your voice was silk was sickening. If you die right here right now, He wouldn’t care even one bit. 

Lucifer pointed towards your body, which was slowly going back into a normal state. “See, everything’s alright.” He spun around as he made his way towards his apartment. 

You really piss him off.

____

After that event, you stayed in the hotel for a while. 

Working wasn’t allowed so you chattered with the other’s, when they weren’t busy. Well, everyone except Lucifer. He’s been avoiding you much more lately. 

When you’d see him, he was glaring at you all the time. You don’t even understand why he was hating you now more than before. Did something happened? 

“I should talk to him, right?” You asked husk with your Mojito in your hand, “I don’t know, kid. He isn’t a fan of yours.” You chuckled, “Oh, really? I just want to live peaceful. If he doesn’t like me, I’d leave the hotel. Easy.” It could be so easy.

You sigh again, your glass clunked when you put it onto the wood. “I just want to know what I did wrong. I don’t like hurting others nor disturbing someone's peace.” Your hands moved up and down your arms, trying to comfort yourself. 

“And yet, you are still in Hell,” He sigh, “Do what you want kid, just be careful, kay.” You took a huge sip of the Alcohol, the burning sensation lets you forget the nervousness that raged in your stomach. When you finally had the courage, you started to make your way to Lucifer. 

The closer you get towards Lucifer's door, the slower your steps start to be. As the door was in sight, your heart started to pound louder and harder. “You can do this Y/n.”

Your fist raised on the red door, you were shivering in fear. The knock was hard and harsh, making you wince at the loudness. A few rattles were heard behind the door, in the next second the door opened revealing the small king. 

“Oh.” His attempt to close the door was stopped from your feet. “We have to talk.” You said serious and Lucifer looked again, annoyed. “Yeah, no.” He opened the door again and walked past you. 

“Your highness, please.” Lucifer ignored you, his finger graced onto the wall, “dusty.” He muttered. You ran towards him, “Your Highness!” Still nothing.

“Lucifer!” finally he halted. “Finally I-“ “What did you call me?” His voice was firm and stern. “I-“ Did you do something wrong?

His horns started to grow on his head and your surroundings started to fall into darkness. The lights started to flicker. His tail, you didn’t knew he had, started to flick dangerous behind him.

“It’s already enough that you little scum disturbed the little peace I just had.” The hallway started to get hotter every second. And not in a good way. Your skin felt like it was melting away, the pain was now still bearable. 

“I’m so-“ His growl interrupted you, “Stop talking! How can someone be so annoying! Just your presence is so disturbing. I hate it even when you speak!” Your breath hitched, your fear making your body halt in every movement.

His nails started to turn red and a flame started to rage between his horns. 

“You should’ve died yesterday!” Flames started to burn around you, burning a bit your skin. Your ears started to ring, Lucifer's words started to stab your heart. You should've listened to husk.

Lucifer didn't look humane anymore. Every soft feature of him disappeared. All you could see was the thirst of blood. The itching in his hand to just kill you limp by limp.

“How can anyone even like, even Love you?! Such a stupid little bitch who doesn’t even understand the concept of peace!” You took a step back, in a blink he was in front of you, holding you tight on your neck. 

'What's happening?'

The moment he pulled you up and closed his hand around your neck, tight, you wanted to scream. Your nails scratched onto his arms. His skin was hot and burning. His hand that strangles you was starting to break your skin, under the heat and force. 

You wanted to scream, shout but nothing came out. 

You opened your eyes and all you could see in those red raging eyes from Lucifer, was him. It was a deja vu.

An re-living of how you died all those years ago. This hatred in those eyes. Your eyes started to tear up. You wanted it to stop. 

This hate in their eyes. 

Your Mother,

Your Lover,

And now Lucifer. 

Your boiled blood started to pour onto Lucifers skin, your vocal-chords started to burn from the heat. A pain you've never experienced bloomed and your blood started to form around Lucifer. your body was acting on Autopilot. Trying to protect you.

With one forceful push, a cut formed onto Lucifers cheek, the golden blood dripped slowly onto his shirt. The sudden pain brought him back to reality. Like someone poured freezing water onto him.

He let you go and you fell full force onto the ground. 

You couldn’t breathe, your neck was burning hard and your face twisted in pain. The only thing was a bloody screech from you in pain. 

Your body was shaking uncontrollable. Your surrounding was black and no one but your mother was standing in front of you. Her nose pinched up. 

“You’re such a disgrace. Who would’ve ever liked you?” Your throat was burning, and every attempt to talk was like a hot iron in your throat. “I-I.. so-“ you coughed out blood, painting the black carped dark red. You scratched onto the wet carpet. 

“So-“ another bloody cough. “-rry!” Blood flooded out of your mouth and it was so painful. “You’re so beautiful Y/n, when you’re this broken you know.” Your eyes wandered up to those pretty eyes of him. You raised your arm up to meet his hands, but they glided through. “Who could ever love you.” 

You grabbed your head, you want it to stop. 

Stop!

Another screech left you but this time, your brain was hot, burning. And the other moment you just switched up. Your body slumped to the floor like a corpse. 

Lucifer looked in horror at you. 

“Kitty? Kitty!” He ran towards you holding your head in his hands. “What a Show. What a shame it ended now!” Alastor laughed heartily, his body morphed into the shadows. 

Lucifer was checking for any pulse, but no. Charlie stormed down the now burned hall, “Dad?” “Call Belphegor right now!” Charlie terrified grabbed her phone. The moment Belphegor was on the phone Lucifer snatched the phone out of charlies hands. 

“Bel, I need you. Fast!” He was in full panic. 

Why? 

He doesn’t have any clue. 

________

“That’s not good.” Bel muttered as she checked your Vitals. “Her heart is beating but very slow and she’s in a coma. Her Vocal-chords are damaged but she will be able to talk again.” 

She closed the curtain from the bed. She sighed deeply, her gaze shifting towards Lucifer. “Lucifer, Why?” Lucifer moved a bit but wasn’t looking at Belphegor. 

“Look at me Lucifer. Why would you do that, that’s not usual for you.” 

Oh God, is Y/n alright? And what is wrong with Lucifer?

💫

Taglist

@i-have-no-life-charlie @sirenetheblogger @concentratedconcrete @ylovei @cimadreamer @ayanazoldyck @froggybich @ravensdecent36 @fangthesandwing

[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.  

Previous Part • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

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!

[abbey-abdominal]

Hi, I’m a sad lesbian obsessed with these two sad women. Have a nice day.

[phagodyke]

the masculine urge to take a saucepan off thr draining board and bash myself repeatedly over the head with it until I pass out and no longer have to experience feeling Bad 😍

[trainingdummyrabbit]

[SURFS INSIDE OF THE ASKBOX AGAIN] hello i am Here to ask about what the Hell do magpie and luci have going on. Considering the whole Thing. magpie's watch being important to him and how luci is associated with the backwards clock. That Kind of Ordeal ^<^

hai . i am so capable of being normal about this. lie.

ok so im once again going to be At It, some mix btwn scattered notes and infodumping and me just saying words You Get It. i have Not been talking abt them as much as i think abt them, theyre another dynamic that haunts me to death. you understand. anyway; ~28 paragraphs.

so first i should Probably actually go over magpie as a character bc i. somehow. dont think i have. at all. so ^_^

magpie, our funny little manager, is introduced mostly as a negligible character. honestly? he just kind of sucked. shows up to be really annoying before dipping again, yapping just because he can, mostly. hes set up entirely to be some 'rich completely-inept asshole climbing the corporate ladder,' acting like hes So In Touch With Everyone (but still blatantly comes across as a complete and total narc). this is on purpose. magpie is a liar.

none of that is true, and he simply plays up the role so that people dont really suspect anything of him. actually, hes not supposed to be the manager at all. at his core, hes actually just. some guy from the backstreets people hire to do misc dirty work-- delivering information, just so happening to mess up in places that takes attention away from someone else, poking his nose places it doesnt belong-- hes got the look and charisma of someone who can be trusted, and he plays it up Hard. multiple times.

he has several different presentations he cycles through to get people to see him a certain way. he is Very Good at his job. he Hates his job. so much so, in fact, that after a particularly. messy. instance, he dropped off the map entirely to figure out some way-- any way at all-- to regain some sort of stability. (to stop the inevitability of harm even a little bit, even just once. (to make up for it all, maybe.))

so. yeah! magpie lies. a lot. he doesnt really care for status or the company as a whole at all-- originally it was just t cause problems for people he views as In Power, but like… fuck dude theres a LOT of people who Just Work Here, and if he went through with just Causing Problems like he thought he was going to, well. oof. so. change of plans! honestly now hes just trying to find some way to Get Everyone The Fuck Out Of Here.

he plays the part, and he snoops. he pretends not to notice shit he Definitely shouldnt be allowing (but like… if it makes shit easier for them, then yknow..) and pretty much just… lets people treat him however. because ultimately his act is Annoying and Untrustworthy yes, but also Completely Nonthreatening. people will let him get away with a LOT of shit with the excuse that he is "kinda stupid" and "doesnt know what hes doing." and well, yknow. whatever works! there is no way this can backfire <33

. so his thing with luci.

luci also generally sticks to her role as just kinda. yknow. Managerial Guide. at least to start out with. shes just figuring shit out yknow. and honestly, nobody really catches onto her being like… Conscious. except for Magpie. because he would always make dumb little quips and jokes at her out of habit-- yknow, like one talks to a particularly unruly printer or something-- and then she would respond in kind. like… snarking back enough to be like Okay Theres No Way Someone Just Programmed That In There Right. and not just that, she'd return with her Own little quips and questions, then act as though she didn't.

magpie originally takes this as a kind of "haha ok thats kind of fucked, at least thats something Super Illegal against these guys we can use if we need to" but then. unfortunately. the thing about magpie is that, against his own instincts, he cares for people. a Lot. he doesnt much enjoy watching people in danger-- and most certainly doesnt want to cause any of that Himself, he's over that.

which is to say: he Instantly gets attached. he cant really say it, but he counts her as as much of a person as anyone else is pretty much instantly, despite him knowing he really really shouldnt be doing that this is so stupid he cant just jump to conclusions like that and if anyone finds out theyre all So Dead. but he cant :( he cant help it… hes just a lil guy and luci is very obviously doing a horrible fucking job at hiding the fact that shes like… conscious. and he has a role to play up too, so its not like he can Do anything, especially since shes part of the damn facility's system and can probably get into contact with important people really easily..

so for a while, its just. luci thinking shes doing a great job at slinking around and playing the manager for a fool the whole time, and magpie fully aware but pretending not to notice and trying to just make things passively easier for her to figure herself out without anyone noticing. its insufferable. because theyre both Correct and Entirely Wrong about each other.

luci completely falls for his Dumb Manager facade and plays the part accordingly, playing around with him because its convenient and kind of funny, she also happens to be the only one who catches on that he is Not Supposed To Fucking Be Here, but plays along because, again, convenient. easy enough scapegoat if she needs it. meanwhile magpie clocks onto her Instantly, but Completely misses the fact that she isnt just innocently futzing around like he thinks she is. he somehow completely trusts her, so much so that despite being the only person who could possibly figure out her Scheming he just. completely rules it out. i really have to reiterate, they are So fucking insufferable.

it isnt until past halfway through th fucking game that luci catches on that magpie's front is . well, a front. and she is genuinely insulted she never caught on. its so fucking funny. and then things get kinda complicated bc like… [waves hands around] story events…..

luci kinda functions as a sorta "final boss" for the whole thing, in heavy quotes. ihavent decided exactly how itll go yet, but. waves hand around. the point is that shes kind of directly responsible for a LOT of people dying, and also kind of for directly threatening Them as well. but the thing is, she hinges Immensely deeply on the idea of Relevancy. because her own nature is so fickle and fragile, shes insistent on making a strong Impression of herself-- as this is what she feels like will root her into reality. something much like how abnormalities function-- ideas dont really ever die, and neither do they. and Thats what she wants more than anything.

so. while it wasnt exactly her entire Goal from the start, if she can cement herself as a Villain, then sure. whatever. it could be fun! and she plays it up. as she is wont to do.

that whole thing is important because of th fact that like.. the only person who Doesnt immediately believe that image of her IS magpie. like… yeah hes kinda had th rug pulled out from under him completely (and its kind of true that if he'd been a little more observant that he could have literally stopped all of this.. he tries not to think about it too hard.) but he also just… god, despite everything he still hates the idea of having to do anything to her.

it takes him a while to figure out why, but its because he's ALSO immediately able to call out her bluff. AGAIN. due to being pretty much the only person that talks to her directly (and.. genuinely ??? kind of??) he can tell when she is intentionally hiding something. she is very deliberately playing up the Idea of what a villain Is, goading everyone on, but he knows damn well what shes about. the issue is that it isnt wholly untrue either.

its like. yeah she intentionally hurt a lot of people, and will probably keep doing that if someone doesnt Do something about her (like everyone else wants to do…) but also… well to put it bluntly, again, she wants little more than simply to be able to Live.

shes purposefully putting herself into a role in order to get what she wants, confident that she can do whatever she wants with no consequence, and treats the entire thing as a weird little game. she doesnt really hold any malice in her heart, she just. she's just desperate and deeply, deeply confused.

shes not good, but shes not evil either. she is JUST stupid. she doesnt know what shes doing and will do just about anything to hide that fact because she hates the feeling of not having control over these things. something she Also tries to hide. honestly hes not really sure if she even notices it herself.

at this point luci has literally never had to deal with the consequences for her actions so this is quite literally the Peak of her hubris arc. to put it in a way, shes convinced she understands how the story goes and can change it how she wants, and she Does Not and Cannot. her arc is essentially trying to assign narrative significance to things in the hopes that it Fulfills something in her. it does not. instead she just has a bunch of problems she caused herself. oops. oh well <33 and its not like magpie doesnt try!! unfortunately its a little hard to talk someone down when theyre Actively Trying To Kill You, and also when theyve completely resigned themself to this sort of Only One Of Us Can Survive ultimatum.

which is to say luci keeps collecting death flags and well. oops <333 which kind of ends with magpie being literally the only person who knows that luci was ever anything other than that Antagonistic Presence she insisted on being (because she would rather have committed fully to that than to ever reveal that maybe, just a little, she was terrified of what would happen otherwise..)

but most importantly, luci ends up being Another Person that magpie couldn't help. its not like he couldve DONE anything, she would've refused anything and everything regardless, its just. man. god. ugh. that… that sucked. its not like he has a horrible track record of repeatedly failing to save people or anything… lol lmao………

so hey, the watch, right?

its something he got from one of his little jobs. last one he ever took, actually. he'd never say it was really a Moral way to make it day to day, but like, what Was, right? nothing was Really moral, everyone just kinda did what they had to; so like, no need to worry about it right? no time for all that. but then you pay a little too much attention, slip up a little, get to know someone a little too much; learn they're pretty much exactly like you are. someone with wants and hopes, little preferences and stories they get excited to share.

and then you get the guy killed. part of the plan from the start, of course, but like... he was Right There. its different when you have to look em in the eyes when you do it, yknow?

magpie's key running emotion is Guilt. he spent so long trying to avoid facing the reality of who he was and what he was doing, but unfortunately it catches up to him Big Time. he's just deceptively good at acting as though that isn't the case. no time to slow down, after all. he couldnt Afford to do anything else. honestly? his entire stunt with lcorp wasnt even something he Thought about too hard. it was stupid and impulsive and he knows it, but now he's Here, and he Has to do something. it has to be something, he can't just let it go. can't just let them go. (some part of him hopes that at the very least when it Does all backfire on him, at least it'd help somebody in the process...)

the watch is a reminder. something kind of absentmindedly tossed at him by the guy who put him on the job as a little something extra, (or in other words, something they didnt bother to want to deal with.) and then it turns out, it was just some petty fuckoff disagreement between them that started th whole thing! but its cool because he gives you the dead guy's watch "to sell for at least a little extra, as a tip." right. of course. yeah, that's... yeah, thanks. great!

he cleaned it and fixed it up and he keeps it as a memento. a little "hey dont fuck up again ok buddy?" a little "you could literally die at any time so like just remember that ok buddy?" ... an "at least let me honor this somehow before karma comes back and inevitably kicks my ass." equal parts reminder and weight to bear. sentimental piece and confession of guilt.

luci's ordeal with backwards clock is a mostly out-of-narrative subject-- assigning her abnos to thematically tie with for funsies. the clock is, wouldnt you guess it, linked with her experience with regret. its... very, very complicated to explain, especially because of the fact that 1) shes already so goddamn hard to decipher and 2) she is Also fully incapable of processing it for what it is.

which... kind of brings me to the whole Thing. magpie is plainly, fully aware that trusting luci in the way that he is is by all means a horrible, horrible idea. she's made it abundantly, repeatedly clear she will simply do whatever benefits her most at any given point. but all magpie can really see is someone struggling just a few paces behind him, exactly somewhere he has been, something he remembers incredibly clearly. as stupid as it may be, he wants to help her. he wants her to be able to find herself, confront what she refuses to acknowledge, give her a fighting chance.

he cant stand the idea of letting someone slip through his fingers like that. it's... its complicated, but its something he wants to stand by. luci just doesnt get it. she still holds a grudge towards him after everything, an odd caution knowing that he just. knows things about her. has seen her for what she is, further than she can bear to acknowledge herself, as bad of a job as she's doing hiding it. luci will continue to refuse any opening he gives to her, but he will continue to offer the option, time and time again.

. anyway heres some images.

[lillotte17]

.

[skitskatdacat63]

I literally can't stop thinking about this sequence of pictures, actually completely brainrotting me

[thcophagy]

upon finding lana cornered by one of his work colleagues at their last christmas party, a variety of emotions had come over sully and all revolved around how strikingly protective over her he had become. it had taken a lot of back and forth to get her to confess as to what was going on but once the nature of her previous job had been announced, those feelings of needing to defend her only grew more prevalent. it had been a shock to say the least, learning that not only had she slept with a man like that but she'd done so for money, he didn't know if it would be better for worse if for some strange reason she'd done it of her own accord. the details of her previous employment had been kept brief, namely because he didn't know how to address it delicately but also because he doubted his wife would be pleased with the notion of having a former sex worker looking after their kids. by that point, both sully and his kids were far too attached to let anything get in the way of making sure she stuck around, even if that meant keeping secrets and lying to his wife about why he'd made such a big deal about ending the party early that night. learning about her past had naturally brought about questions, for the next week or so he found it nearly impossible to go about his day without picturing her in all kinds of situations, both fetishizing her for that work and worrying about the possible things she had been made to endure as a result. he put himself in a difficult position of both needing to protect her from anything bad happening again and craving things from her that would have to come from her very exploitation. "oh, i think i'll leave it up to your imagination." he chuckled awkwardly and took a glance down to the hand that had settled on his shirt, in part because he felt it was wrong to be discussing his past rowdy behaviour, especially when he had worked so hard to leave it all in the dust and build himself into the man he was. although, he was also curious to what she thought him capable of. he'd engaged in the usual drunken debauchery expected of a man in his twenties, allowed himself to submit to each and every whim that came about no matter the cost, it had been a fun life but ultimately not maintainable. she was clearly very intoxicated, he didn't want to take anything she said or did too seriously or make her feel bad for acting out of sorts. the imagine of a bunch of young guys throwing themselves at lana didn't exactly fill him with joy but when delivered in that low, sultry tone, how could sully do any but do as she wished and pictured him there to save her? his arm tucked tight around her waist as he pulled her out from the dance floor, his hand wandering down the curve of her hips till his fingertips found the hem of her dress and helped pull it down to cover herself up, his days in clubs were far behind him but it was a nice thought nonetheless, one he banished immediately after he let it play out. he offered nothing but a small hum in response and before he could even think to answer her next questions, that nimble hand had made its way down his torso to the waistband of his pants. he didn't dare look down again, instead he kept his eyes on the road and swallowed back the surprised gasp that had threatened to come out. she'd always been a bold, confident girl but never to such an extreme, he chalked it up to the alcohol and god knows what else she might've ingested that night and quickly realised he had to be careful with how he dealt with her suggestive proposal. "you don't need to worry about me." carefully, he reached down and pried her hand away from his crotch, then brought it back over to her lap where he set it down with a gentle pat. "just relax, we'll be home soon." it didn't need to be a big deal. maybe she'd forget about it in the morning and they could both pretend it didn't happen, or perhaps she'd come to him apologising profusely and he would have the chance to comfort her once again. either way, sully knew he had to turn lana down before he was too weak to do so.

there were many factors at play when creating the taboo nature of lana and mr. landry's potential coupling— for one, there was the age difference. she'd thought it rude to ask specifically, but from what context clues she could pick up on, she'd guess he and his wife were around twice her age, but no matter the number, it was clear she and sully were in vastly different places in life with vastly different maturity levels. then, of course, there was the matter of him being her employer, and her landlord, and he was already married on top of that, which all combined gave him a great deal of power over her, and yet she couldn't help but feel like she was the one pulling the strings as she gazed at him from the passenger seat. as if she wasn't already worked up enough, there was just something about a man driving that really got her going, and she found herself becoming transfixed not by his face, or his broad chest just barely concealed by a flimsy t shirt, but by his hairy knuckles gripping the wheel. "i'm glad you came," she purred, lips slowly curling up into a lazy grin. no matter how hard she studied him, lana could never tell how exactly he felt about her. when she'd first taken the job, she figured she'd be dodging his advances left and right to try and form some basis of professionalism, but he'd been nothing but polite and respectful. at times he'd treat her with the detachment common for a boss, though as time went on and she became further integrated into the family, their dynamic shifted, lines blurring as he came to look out for her like one would a daughter. now that the incident at the party occurred— now that he knew what she used to do for a living— lana didn't know how exactly he saw her anymore, if it had planted some seed of sexual curiosity within his mind, or only made him that much more protective of her in a paternal sense. from what she picked up on, her attraction was far from one sided; it was merely a manner of helping him accept that he could act on his desires without jeopardizing his whole life. who knows? maybe she'd stumbled into that interview for a reason. perhaps some benevolent god had dropped her right onto his lap to help reinvigorate his lust for life, and he was just too boneheaded to accept it. "yeah?" her eyes were practically sparkling with intrigue, ink black lashes batting as she reached out to toy with the front of his shirt. "tell me about it..." her imagination was active, but she wanted something more concrete— had he merely engaged in the typical amount of debauchery for a man coming of age, or had he been particularly rowdy before marriage and fatherhood straightened him out? she'd liked to have seen him back then in his glory days, if for nothing else than to know for sure whether a mustache like that came pre or post twins. "i always do." as long as alcohol was involved, lana always had a good time, but going out now was almost bitter sweet when she remembered what she had back at home. "i should take you with me next time! maybe that'll stop random guys from grinding on me every five minutes." it was delivered in jest, though when spoken in her erotically inebriated tone of voice and when coupled with her sultry gaze which had drifted down to eye the crotch of his pajama pants, it may as well have been an invitation into her bed. "when's the last time you and mrs. landry went out, hm? you're always so busy... work, work, work..." the hand on his chest began traveling, working its way down to the waistband of his pants. "you work too hard taking care of everybody, mr. landry... who takes care of you?"

[butnotbubblegum]

using the tags to vent my current emotional state into the void bc ig story feels like a bad plan for this, read at your own risk.