#at least I don't think I've ever seen this one before

[webzazes]

making this danny phantom teehee ❤️

My family always seemed like the most normal people in the world. But, we're filthy rich. I'm not a fan of it, but it's whatever. At least I have funds for passion projects, and hopefully, in due time, my own greenhouse (I've wanted one for years).

I actually only learned what really made us so successful recently, though. Ever since I was young, I was told over and over again that it was due to an invention, something useful and prominent in everyday life. However, it turns out that we're so wealthy because of black magic.

The thought alone inspired me so much, and I was already into gothic and fantastical things- it practically tripled my obsession. My parents, however, thought I was "too obvious" or "too gloomy" for our happy little family, especially because of my style of dress, but I was dead-set on breaking away from the norm after I learned how, well, not normal we are under wraps.

This made me a loner at school. I was different, and I wasn't a fan of going out of my way for friendships, let alone any unnecessary social interaction. I kept to myself, and became "the weird goth girl". Honestly, I was happy with that.

But, being a loner led me to Danny. And, of course, his friend Tucker. They accepted me- although we did butt heads at times, as is natural. We'd go to Danny's house, hear about his parents' work, and especially, their obsession with ghosts.

As someone getting into the occult, (I was actively training myself with books from our family library) I was interested. Very interested. I knew about souls, zombies, and demons, but not so much about ghosts themselves, the physical representation of a consciousness and soul tied down to Earth.

So, when Danny brought us to his basement to show us the "ghost portal" his parents were working on, I was excited. Really excited. Of course, I didn't let that show, I figured it might be as dumb as all of the other Fenton tech, and I wasn't expecting it to be dangerous, either.

But, when Danny stepped in to try and turn it on, I realized it was, in fact, dangerous. Very much so. The sheer amount of force I felt when the portal opened was almost painful- but never could be as painful as the sight of what happened to Danny because of it. He looked almost burned in places, and practically wilted to the ground.

He was limp. And he didn't look right, either- his hair was a shocking, clear white, and his eyes were green. At the time, I didn't even notice that the protective suit he was wearing had changed. But I could 100 percent tell that he was dead. Stone cold and limp, dead.

Tucker looked to be on the verge of tears, but I didn't care. I had to do something! I could feel some kind of residual energy on Danny's body, and I thought, "a source". A source of power for me to use, something I could heal him with.

Healing was my passion. I've always cared for life. Especially in this instance- Danny wasn't allowed to die. He couldn't die. I don't know what I would've done if he did..

So, in a split second, I was by his side. I was full healer mode, to the point I knew I couldn't let Tucker see my face. If he saw my eyes, well, he certainly wouldn't have been able to forget them any time soon..

I grasped at the energy left on Danny, and I made it mine. My emotions made me strong, determined, and I used that energy to successfully make an offering to Danny's soul. It was like summoning a demon- I'd seen my mom do it before- but more intimate, as I touched his spirit, poured its power into his bloodstream, and pulled at it, as I tied it to his body. I could almost feel the ectoplasm in my hands- and that's when I realized what the residual energy really was. Ectoplasm.

The ghost portal was real.

All in all, the whole process of "fixing" Danny, well.. it felt like nothing. And it really was quick. Thankfully, once I told Tucker that Danny was breathing, he didn't think to question the wait. He said nothing. And I couldn't bring myself to say that Danny was still cold..

So, hurriedly, we took Danny to his room, and told his parents he was tired. We said that he fell asleep while playing games with us. That was it.

That is how it all started.

You always wanted to be a Healer. Unfortunately, your dad was an Necromancer and your mother a Demon Summoner. So your healing was a bit… unconventional to say the least.

[frownyalfred]

Hi. I'm not a canon purist and enjoy some fanon content very much, but I do think people in the fandom should at least familiarize themselves with the canon content and source material. It's easier to break the "rules" so to speak and experiment with canon when you know what that actually is. I've noticed a lot of fans that are only familiar with fanon criticise content that doesn't line up with what they believe to be canon but isn't. The Red Hood for example. I've seen writers who portray him as the violent criminal he is in much of the canon be completely decimated by Jason fans who only know fanon and the retconned version of Red Hood and completely deny canon even exists and refuse to even glance at the comics. Transformative works are important and playing in the sandbox is for everyone but fandom literally cannot exist without canon. Canon is important and people can do whatever they want with it but they should respect it enough to at least look at it.

Hi anon, I'm going to hold your hand as I say this, and I will say it as gently as I can: This is still a form of canon purism.

We can absolutely agree that readers shouldn't berate or abuse writers for how they choose to portray characters in fic, whether that's a more canon-faithful characterization or a popular fanon version. If readers don't like how a character is portrayed, we should encourage them to hit the back button instead.

I want to draw your attention to some of the words you used in your ask above: "should" "respect" "decimated" etc. Those are some strong words to describe how you think people need to behave, in order to exist in fandom. Of course, there is no fandom without canon source material -- I'm not denying that. But with such a wide and varied canon, the DC fandom has examples of the Red Hood you mention above, AND the "retconned" version you also reference. Both are canon, as in actually, officially, canon. WFA is canon, and that Red Hood looks very different from the Red Hood you describe.

Now, I think your issue is that you enjoy a certain version of canon, and you're frustrated that the fandom doesn't also, as trends ebb and flow, enjoy that canon as much as you do. Again, I want to acknowledge that just because a certain version is popular, it doesn't give folks the right to berate authors for writing a different version. But again, I don't think that's what we're really talking about here. From your ask's tone, I think you're suggesting that people should, in order to participate in fandom, read that older canon, that different version, or as you say, "glance at it" before enjoying or writing the fanon version.

Guess what? They actually, really, really, don't have to. It sounds like you have some issues with judging your fellow fandom members who don't read what you do or reference certain canon. But the magic of this fandom is, you can enter it at any point. We're a big pool, and if someone's entry point is the Lego Batman movie and that's it, that's still valid.

Fandom stems from canon, yes, but I almost never hear people talk about movies, or web comics, or other media when they talk about "required reading." It's always a comic. I really wish people would reflect on that before suggesting it as the one true path to being a fan.

The other thing I don't see asks like these reference ever is the reality that sometimes a fandom outstrips its canon material, and that that's an eventuality in some spaces. Fanon interpretations become popular, and people write about those specific characterizations or scenarios. They ebb and flow, like I mentioned, and some are more canon-faithful than others. Some completely reject canon, and again -- it's still fandom. It doesn't make it better or worse than a more canon-faithful fic. It's just different.

I had a couple asks about this topic a few weeks ago, and I'm assuming you haven't read those or you likely wouldn't have sent me this ask. But in them, I discuss how sometimes we need to suck it up and be unhappy that canon-faithful fics aren't as popular in a fandom at a specific time, and stop punishing fellow fans for writing and enjoying those fics. And we really need to stop shitting on them publicly on Tumblr.

Because often, what you're really saying is that you wish more people would write more canon-faithful fics, and stop writing ones about fanon topics you don't enjoy or think are accurate. And to that, I again say, there is nothing you can or should do to change that behavior from others. If you want to read it, write it, enjoy it, etc, do it yourself. Build the comic-faithful community here, write fics and promote challenges, create a discord channel and discuss your "required reading" there.

We are all writing and reading fanfiction at the end of the day. It is a great equalizer in many ways. My silly Lego Batman fic is just as valid as a canon-faithful rewrite of a certain Batman issue. One is not better than the other, or more deserving of respect. You will never get me to admit otherwise on this blog.

tl;dr: people should absolutely not berate authors who choose to write canon-faithful characterizations. however, there are layers of judgement and disdain many DC comics canon-faithful authors/readers have for their fellow fans that I think we need to examine critically in order to coexist respectfully.

[princecroutons]

sorry to come in here suddenly but i wanted to add my own thoughts on one of the posts you reblogged (while being anonymous if thats cool) honestly that's why i don't really feel comfortable having a dedicated account for my pet because i am so genuinely worried about people getting the wrong idea if they take something out of context now don't get me wrong there is nothing wrong with being worried about an animals well-being and i DO understand that there are people who suck and don't care about animals, but i swear nobody actually takes the time to look through a blogs post or read anything important on the account that does confirm the animal is safe and happy i've seen people literally not be bothered to read captions on posts now (especially tiktok videos) and just go ballistic on people because they got started assuming the worst instead of taking the time to do research it's okay to be concerned guys; coming from an animal lover i do understand being concerned, but people can really take it to an extreme when there's so much that you can do as a person

There was a time I wasn't very comfortable sharing my pets beyond discord servers or a few posts here and there, especially since I'd had rats, and the exotic pet communities can be even worse sometimes (though I do understand, especially with rodents) but I made this blog for a friend who adores him and he didn't really blow up until that post (that I wrote while high and immediately passed out after) and God I didn't expect the amount of people who wouldn't take a moment to think, or read, or search a blog for asks already answered.

I got a lot of rude comments about how it was abusive, that it was terrible to do that to a cat, that so on and so forth, assumption, assumption, assumption - and even when I had his post up for donations/gfm I had someone comment that I was being irresponsible for not having pet insurance, or unsolicited advice ad nauseam

I love animals, I love people who share their animals, and if I'm ever concerned I go out of my way to do a little digging before I do anything further because I'd rather be wrong than send someone an accusatory ask or give them unsolicited advise they're already following and didn't ask for. and if I find that hey! something here is wrong! I then consult friends on what to do and how to approach the situation. like idk...

People will rb videos of distressed wild animals in situations filmed to look cute with 0 comment, and then turn around and criticize people for shaving their cat and assuming the worst

I'm a little high and think I'm just ranting and repeating a lot of what you just said anon jdkdhej I just get frustrated sometimes and it's difficult not to feel very judged, but ik that the only opinions that matter when it comes to my animals are mine and my vets

but god please just.... put some effort in to doing at least a little reaserch before jumping to conclusions about literally anything ever

sorry for any typos I'm dyslexic and I'm not proof reading this 🫶

[mohnaka]

So, in regards to Hondo in Skeleton Crew since it's something I keep seeing people ask about: it was confirmed that he won't be appearing. Here's the specific bit from the article:

I’ve seen speculation that a live-action Hondo Ohnaka will appear in Star Wars: Skeleton Crew. True or false? –Corey A freighter resembling Hondo’s was spotted in the distance at Port Borgo in Episode 2, but series creators Chris Ford and Jon Watts confirmed for me that we won’t be meeting the Clone Wars pirate. “We’ll rip off that Band-Aid and say no, we don’t have any Hondo,” Ford told TVLine. ��Honestly, we love Hondo, but there wasn’t really a part in our story that offered a good enough role for him. Like, if we were trying to cast him in this, he would be like, ‘This part is not big enough for Hondo!'” Which is not to say Skeleton Crew, in success, won’t ever feature the interstellar buccaneer. “We would love to keep doing this,” Ford said, “and keep exploring the whole pirate side of the galaxy, and build up to that.”

There's always the chance they could be lying, but considering the wording, I don't think they are. But! He is coming in the next dlc for Star Wars Outlaws! No exact release date yet, sometime in spring. If you haven't played it yet, I highly recommend it.

Now on a side note, something else I've seen a lot of people ask/say in regards to Hondo showing up in media set after Rebels: isn't he already super old/dead/etc? Long story short, no. Short story long because I'm autistic and don't know when to shut up under the read more:

If you were somehow unaware (hoping that doesn't come off as judgmental, it's more of a surprised thing I swear!), he's actually a part of Galaxy's Edge aka "the Star Wars land" at Disneyland/Disney World, which is supposed to take place in between The Last Jedi and The Rise of Skywalker (so about 34 ABY). Or at least it was initially, they've been kind of loosening it up lately, but the two rides (Rise of the Resistance and Millennium Falcon: Smugglers Run, the latter of which Hondo is basically the star of) are still in that specific time range. So he's not dead nor is he going to die in anything set before the sequels (but then again, "Hondo Ohnaka survives every time", could be the Force keeps bringing him back to life to fuck with everyone).

In Legends, the approximate lifespan for his species (Weequay) was about 90 years of age. There's been no word on whether this is still canon or it's been made longer, but if it is still canon, it does give us an idea of how old he was in the various eras. If we're to assume he's somewhere between 80 to 85 years of age in 34 ABY (Lando, who he's shown to be on good terms with in issue 4 of the Halcyon Legacy comic, is 77/78 years in 34 ABY for reference), that would make him:

Between 25 to 30 years old when he's first introduced in The Clone Wars

Between 42 to 47 years old when he's first introduced in Rebels

And last but not least, between 55 to 60 years old in 9 ABY, which is (supposedly) when The Mandalorian/Skeleton Crew/etc takes place

Somewhere in the middle is most likely, since the younger estimate would put him at only 14 years old in 32 BBY (during The Phantom Menace), but 17 to 19 years old isn't that wild considering what we've seen older kids/teenagers deal with in this franchise. It's not completely unrealistic that someone with a background like his would be just starting off leading a group of pirates in his late teens.

Anyway, what's he been up to since Rebels? He actually founded his own Totally Legitimate Shipping Company, Ohnaka Transport Solutions, sometime in between 1 ABY and 4 ABY prior to the Battle of Endor. It's currently (as in, 34 ABY currently) based in Black Spire Outpost on Batuu, though whether it was always there is unknown. Also at some point he got himself a ship that he named the Katooni...yes, like that Katooni. In fact, it's the one mentioned in the above interview about Hondo appearing in Skeleton Crew, so in a sense, he might have already had a indirect cameo!

Sources for most of this/recommended reading: Pirate's Price, The Secrets of the Bounty Hunters, and Halcyon Legacy #4. If you're looking for Hondo content outside the shows, read these. Especially Pirate's Price if you've always wondered what it'd be like if Han and Hondo met. And as previously mentioned, Halcyon Legacy #4 has him with (the real) Lando.

[passionatelyxlust]

Lust could not help thinking in any other circumstance, he would find the corporeal realm a fascination that needed every corner and crevice explored just to understand the inner machinations of what breathed life into it. Walking through anything and everything, unseen and possessing freedom no one can explain. Knowing what he knew now about Azriel's past, on the other hand, reminded the prince that some universes beyond comprehension were far more dangerous than the simple playground someone would expect for a dream witch like Azriel. Underestimating and disobeying the general laws nature intended is what killed the man's younger brother, so even Lust can heed on the side of caution watching where he stepped in a world he had no business being in. "Oh, that's just...great. I wasn't sure how powerful they would be on that end, but flying sounds exciting " Lust turned his hands every which way as a distraction from the queasiness, looking up in time to watch the other prince return at his side. "There isn't a second where I haven't thought about my brother." As Azriel grabbed for his hand again and led him through the door, the demon's thoughts filled the confines of his mind with nothing but Gluttony. The happy memories, the times they sought comfort in each other when the other princes scoffed at their relationship. The smooth-talking Gluttony who cracked jokes and defended him at every turn from their brothers. He didn't notice the unusual steps they were taking, the speed, just spending the moment thinking about the one person that he missed more than anyone from his fractured family. Lust's gaze immediately fell upon the mansion's interior as soon as they entered, the familiar marble columns and ornate chandelier hanging above their heads in the main entrance welcoming the pair, but this was not the home he left behind. "What the hell is Kai doing here?" Lust mumbled distractedly, attention more on the catastrophe left by whatever tornado swept through the place. "This isn't how I left it, Az, Jo never would've let the house fall into such disrepair. I don't understand..." He couldn't bring himself to dwell on it for too long, instead opting the other lead them, floating practically, to Gluttony's bedroom.

The second his gaze absorbed the same chaos that had been left throughout the mansion, Lust knew in his heart that this was his fault. Something very extreme happened in his absence, enough that it sent Gluttony and Josephine off kilter, something like the King. Of course, maybe he came looking for information where Lust was hiding Azriel and his brother never gave him a satisfactory answer. The sight slammed into the demon with a gut punch that sent his eyes nearly watering. From the notebooks and the discarded papers, to his brother's tossed away crown and the dagger dug into the desk's wood surface that no prince would ever have laying around out in the open unless they valued their life, nothing prepared Lust than the sight of his two best friends huddled together in an embrace. "I've never seen him like this before." The man whispered sadly, moving over to Josephine's side of the bed and reaching over a hand to brush his fingers against her cheek. It went right through the succubus and Jo stirred, but she didn't awaken either herself or the prince. "If I knew what would happen if I left-" He still would've made the same choice to protect his Prince, but at least he potentially could have taken his family along. "He's in pain, I can feel it." Lust moved around the bed, eyes never leaving Gluttony. Mourning whatever consequence befell his brother and hoping he wouldn't resent him for it. "I won't release your hand, I promise." The prince reached forward and clasped Azriel's hand, giving it a squeeze, "Just take me to my brother. I need to know what happened."

Azriel watched Lust take in his surroundings warily, not out of fear for himself, no. It's because he knew how alarming it could be for the first time—remembering what it was like to slip into the astral plane himself as a small child, though back then, it was a fantastical world free from perils. The witch now knew what it was: a deadly world of destruction, his own or otherwise if he wasn't careful. He'd brought many people to their early graves in this realm with ease and zero hesitation. He tried to see it through the Prince's eyes, and he knew it looked like something straight from Alice in Wonderland. "This was the easy part, unfortunately," Azriel replied, moving towards the farmhouse door he'd left open in the corporeal world. He wasn't even sure if he could leave and didn't know how far the barrier to keep him in went. Az paused briefly, unsure, before lifting a hand to push through the threshold and walking his entire form through. "Looks like the wards don't keep me strapped in this dimension. That's good," the witch mused as he crossed back to where he'd left Lust. "The fastest way to your brother is to think of him and step through the door. Next time we have time, I'll take you flying," the witch promised before taking Lust's hand in his and guiding him to the door. In this dimension, Azriel was connected to all dreaming beings– feeling the pull of their minds beckoning him like a siphon to his astral body. Initially, it used to be too much for him to feel, which was why he sought solace in his brother's dreams. Safer. Now, locating people the moment they dreamed was easy for him. It was late in the night already, so he figured that the Prince they were locating was in the mansion that Lust resided at previously. Like a homing beacon, the witch latched onto Gluttony's familiar magical signal and guided the two through the threshold. Space and time moved through the astral dimension, the steps the duo took feeling more like a moving walkway in an airport; propelling the two until they pushed through the doorway leading into the mansion. Azriel's eyes opened to take the space around them. The mansion looked the same as it did in the waking world, only cast with a different hue and it was... trashed. It was not like there was a fight, but as if no one cleaned up after themselves for ages. That wasn't the only thing that threw him off; there were four dreaming entities, and one felt like his brother. "Weird," Azriel stated with furrowed brows before turning to the Prince he'd carried with him, "Kai's here." Shaking his head, he pointed his gaze towards where he knew the Prince of Gluttony resided, and he could instantly feel a strong emotion pulsing; it left a taste of despair on his tongue, dreams so poignant that it leaked out of of the Prince and leeched into the plane around him. "C'mon, I can feel your brother and it's not... good." The duo didn't need to walk when Azriel was leading. Most of the time that Azriel was in the astral plane, his feet never touched the ground. However, that takes years of practice to control and the last thing they needed was for Lust to propel into the stratosphere like a helium balloon. Instead, he held Lust's hand tight and moved the duo up from the ground floor to the second-floor wing of the mansion like they were in zero gravity before pushing into Gluttony's room.

It was like he had feared. Something had happened and whatever it was, it was causing a nightmare to come off of Gluttony in waves. The two of them stood in the oppulent bedroom, and it reflected much of what he'd seen when the two made it to the mansion in the first place. Clothes strewn, notebooks littering the floor, loose leafs of paper crumpled and tossed in every direction. Glutton's crown, or what he assumed belong to the Prince, on the floor at the foot of his bed and a curious looking dagger that seemed to even glow within his realm sticking out at an odd angle in his desk as if stabbed into the surface in anger. Looking at the source of the despair, the dreams he could taste even so far away, Gluttony laid in a near fetal position with the blankets and sheets tangling his limbs tightly. The succubus that Az had come to know in passing pressed against the Prince's back with arms wrapped tight in his middle and her forehead pressed against his spine. "They're both having nightmares," the witch murmured, dropping Lust's hand briefly to walk closer to the bed and crouching; observing the dynamic between the sleeping duo. Black, wispy clouds of energy radiated off of the two, however the aura around the Prince was stronger; more palpable. Deep inky tendrils wrapping around him tightly, drowning him. Azriel waved a hand closer to the energy causing the tendrils to reach out towards him like a sunflower following the sun. "I haven't seen dreams this strong in a long time. I'll have to dispel the energy once we get inside his head." Holding a hand to Lust, he nodded towards Gluttony, "once we get into his mind, don't let go of my hand until I say it's okay. One wrong move can spell badly for all three of us."

[whoops-all-jennas]

Past Lives pt. 7

Wednesday x witch!reader

"I've got this strangest feeling."

"This isn't our first time around."

Summary: You and Wednesday investigate Xavier before attending the Rave'n

I wake up to the sound of papers rustling and Wednesday thinking out loud to herself. The morning sun beaming through the windows making me never want to open my eyes.

I dramatically sit up, my white hair going every which way. I feel I have more energy than usual, maybe I needed that release of energy.

My feet find their way into the slippers by my bed, I'm wearing pajama shorts and an oversized band tee. The shirt has clearly seen better days as the graphic is faded.

I walk to the center of the room to find Wednesday in front of a bulletin board, crossing her arms in thought. The bulletin board is covered in pictures of wounds and bodies. I assume these are all the victims of the murders, Wednesday did say she snuck out last night to the morgue.

I turn around to find Enid sleeping still, so I keep in mind of my volume. "Good morning Wends, did you sleep or?"

Wednesday turns around to meet me, her eyes going to my white messy hair. "I can see you did." She responded in a whisper, unsure if it's because Enid is sleeping is because she's just naturally mimicking my volume.

Her eyes linger on my hair a moment longer before turning back around.

"Are you the one who set the statue on fire?" I ask in a whisper.

Wednesday moves a picture before pushing a thumbtack through it. "I thought you did. When I looked at you it was as if you were concentrating on the fire."

I at least know it wasn't Wednesday. "I think I did?"

Wednesday turns around again. "You think?"

"I kinda zoned out, but it felt like all the emotions of yesterday just kinda like, alleviated in that moment."

I find Wednesday's new soft gaze meeting mine. Ever since that vision yesterday she's been looking at me differently. A good different.

"Why did you play a song while the fire was going on?"

Wednesday stares off to the side before meeting my gaze again. "I wasn't sure what was happening and if you were involved or not. Besides, I can handle people being suspicious of me."

Wednesday turned back around, bringing her attention back to the bulletin board.

Was she trying to be a distraction for me?

"I'm gonna get ready, we can talk about whatever you uncovered from the morgue when I'm done." She stopped moving while I was talking before going back to what she was doing.

That's about as much of an acknowledgement I'm going to get from Wednesday with a statement like that. I head back to my section of the room to get ready.

"While most plants reward their pollinators with sweet nectar, many carnivorous varieties turn to sexual trickery or deception." Ms. Thornhill is holding up a dangerous looking plant casually while addressing the class.

I glance at Wednesday, noticing Xavier staring at me before we both look away from each other.

Ms. Thornhill keeps teaching the class, but none of it retains in my memory over Xavier and I's occasionally glances at each other from across the sunlit room.

"Now, once the plant is pollinated, what do the male insects get in exchange?" Ms. Thornhill looks to me, about to call on me to answer after noticing my lack of attention.

"Nada. Just like all the guys at the Rave'n." Bianca answers before Ms. Thornhill embarrasses me. Some light chuckles fill the classroom.

"Okay, okay. I know you're all excited about Saturday, which is why I haven't assigned any homework." Ms. Thornhill states, causing a majority of the class to cheer quietly.

"But I do still need volunteers for the decorating committee. Anyone interested, come and see me up here." Some students stand to approach the teacher's desk, while Wednesday and I stay in place.

"What? you don't want to volunteer?" I say jokingly.

"I hope that isn't your best attempt at a joke." Wednesday glares at me for a moment, causing me to look away to see Xavier's glance on me.

"I feel bad, about what I said yesterday to Xavier." I say with a worried look on my face. "Maybe I overreacted."

Wednesday turns to see Xavier bending over to put something in his bag that's on the floor, revealing the fresh wounds on his neck.

"Maybe we can kill two birds with one stone." Wednesday states, turning back to me. "We can follow him until I notice something that can potentially give us a lead."

"Do you suspect Xavier?" I ask in a worried whisper.

"Only by proximity, nothing certain. Yet." Wednesday turns to look at Xavier again. "But, a suspect is still a suspect."

Wednesday and I find ourselves near a shed by the school. Xavier leaves the shed shortly after we arrive. We're hiding behind a bush so he can't see us.

"Cast the spell." Wednesday demands. I take out my wand, casting the disillusionment charm on her so she can sneak into the shed with ease.

"We'll meet back here afterwards so I can remove the charm." I don't hear a response, but I assume she nodded.

I stand, doing a light run to catch up to him. "Xavier!"

He turns around to meet me. "Hey y/n, what's up." He's clearly acting like nothing is wrong.

"I just wanted to apologize about how I acted yesterday, I shouldn't have blown up on you like that."

He avoids my gaze for a moment. "I should apologize too, I shouldn't have been so inconsiderate."

"No, no. You don't need to apologize, I should've controlled my emotions better." I say quickly after he's done speaking.

"Can you just let me have this?" He says with a smile.

I smile back. "So we're cool?"

"Yeah." He puts out his fist, waiting for our knuckles to meet.

I lightly tap my knuckles against his. "We should hangout soon. Maybe play Mario Maker levels made by sadistic assholes." I say jokingly.

He responds with a light chuckle, tearing his eyes away from me to look at the ground.

The creek of the shed door opening draws both of our attention away from the conversation.

"Is there someone in there?" He says, mostly to the wind.

We both approach the shed, opening the door more letting the daylight fill the room.

"Must be something wrong with the door." I say out loud before closing it.

I turn to meet Xavier. "I was being serious about doing something soon, I miss spending time with you."

"Maybe we can hangout at the dance on Saturday, purely platonically I mean of course." His face goes slightly red.

"I wasn't going to go, but if you want to hangout there I can." I state uncertainly before pointing behind me with my thumb. "I'm gonna leave, Wednesday is probably waiting for me so she can drag me to a crime scene or something."

"Alright, see you at the dance then." Xavier waves before walking off.

I find my way back behind the bush, accidentally bumping into Wednesday. "Shit, sorry."

I pull out my wand and holding my hand out expectingly. She finds her hand in mine. I tap the wand onto her hand as she becomes visible again.

"Did you find anything?"

"Yes, but let's get back to our dorm first." She states, quickly turning around before she starts walking.

The dorm is filled with sunlight from the sunroof, I find myself sitting in Wednesday's reading chair next to her bulletin board with her standing over me.

I hold Xavier's drawing in my hand with Wednesday's expecting glance over me. "What do you think?"

"I think if anything this makes him more innocent." I state flatly. "He's a psychic like his father, but he told me about how he gets visions in dreams usually in the form of nightmares."

I look up to Wednesday from the drawing. "I also doubt the monster knows this much physical detail about himself."

Wednesday looks at me a bit disappointed by my conclusion.

"But, if this is the case. He could be extremely helpful to our case."

Wednesday's look turns from disappointment to curiosity. "How so."

"He's getting visions about the monster we're hunting. He could likely give us some leads."

Our conversation is cut short as Enid bursts into the room, skipping across the room towards us.

"Good, you both are here." She stops in front of us with a smile. "Are you two going to the Rave'n? I'm about to go out with some friends to find clothes, if you guys are interested you can tag along."

I stand up. "Yeah I'll come with."

Wednesday gives me a confused look. "You're going to the dance?"

"Yeah, I told Xavier that we could spend time together at the dance. Purely platonically of course." I pause for a moment before I continue. "You should come to the dance to, it could be fun."

"Ooo, inviting Wednesday to the dance?" Enid draws out of the o's accusingly.

My face flushes red in embarrassment. "I didn't mean it like that!" I say somehow in the least convincing way possible.

Enid gives me a smug look before glancing past me. Wednesday in now in her section of the room grabbing a few things. "Yeah, yeah. I'm getting tired of waiting! You two just need to-"

I find myself lunging towards Enid, covering her mouth with my hand to force her to stop talking.

"Enid, please stop!" I drag out the e in the word please.

She lightly kicks behind my knee playfully, causing me to fall on top of her.

"Enid!" I shout before scrambling to my feet. Enid has the dumbest smile on her face when I look over her. She's still on the floor.

"Are we leaving or not." Wednesday's monotone voice reaches my ears, causing me to turn around to see her ready to go out.

"Wait, you're actually coming!?" I take a step closer, excitement painting my face and lacing my voice.

"If you two stop bickering." She states flatly

I turn to see Enid's smug face as she's back on her feet now.

I walk past Enid while I head to the door. "Not a word about this."

She nods with the same expression before leaving the room with us.

"What kind of dystopian hell scape is this?" I state with a look of disgust.

Y/n, Enid, and I are standing in front of Hawte Kewture, the clothing store is decorated with blue and pink pastels. So, quite literally, my worst nightmare.

Enid turns to you with excitement. "Our first roomie shopping spree with Wednesday! The dance committee's suggesting all white to match the theme, but that's not gonna fly with Wednesday."

I turn towards them. "I have some more pressing matters to deal with."

Enid's excitement turns into disappointment. "But I thought we were bonding."

"I will meet up with you two later, or you'll meet up with me. Whatever comes first."

Y/n and Enid glance at each other for a moment. "If you say so." You say with slight disappointment in your voice.

You and Enid turn around to enter the store, I take the chance to leave before you manage to persuade me to enter that dungeon of a store.

When I'm walking down the street Thing taps my shoulder as we pass Uriah's Heap. "I'm going to see Galpin, I'm not stop-" I turn to look into the window to see a gothic black dress.

"Hi, Wednesday." The sound of a bell fills the air as my therapist leaves the store. "That dress will certainly turn some heads."

"Are you collecting more exotic trinkets for your office?" I state, drawing the attention away from the dress.

"Those are souvenirs from my travels. That's how I step outside of my comfort zone. Speaking of which, are you going to the Rave'n this weekend?"

"I'm not required to answer your questions out in the wild, am I?" I try to end the conversation.

"I look forward to talking about it at our next session." She turns to leave the other way. I turn to the entrance of the store, taking my time to enter.

I left with the dress in a bag, I wasn't expecting you to manage to persuade me to buy a dress.

I put Xavier's drawing on the sheriff's desk. "We both know there's a monster out there. If we're going to stop it, I think it's time we put our differences aside and work together."

"And this is your stake for me to deal you in?" The sheriff is now holding the drawing, inspecting it before grabbing a photograph and putting them side by side.

"Sorry you gotta do better than that. You've got some nice detail though." He hands me the drawing back.

"I didn't draw it." I fold the drawing before putting it back into my backpack.

"I need to know who did." He states firmly

"Unless we're exchanging intel, I'm not at liberty to say."

He sighs while looking off to the side. "Why would I share information about an ongoing murder investigation with a high school kid?"

"Because I go to Nevermore and you don't. Don't you want some eyes and ears behind those ivy-covered walls?"

"Listen Velma, why don't you and the Scooby gang stick to your homework and leave the investigating to the professionals." The phone starts ringing, causing the sheriff to answer. "What?"

The voice on the other end is slightly distorted by the age of the technology. "Mayor Walker's on line two, he's looking for an update."

I take cue to leave. "Hey, Addams."

The sheriff beckons me over. "Let me see that sketch again."

I walk back in, handing him the drawing.

"The person who drew this, that your suspect?"

I shake my head. "I believe he's having visions about it."

The sheriff is silent for a moment. "When you bring me some concrete evidence, maybe we'll talk."

I take the sketch back, before leaving the police station.

I'm sitting inside the Weathervane with Enid and her friends. I see Wednesday walk past though the window. "I'll be right back, I'm gonna check on Wednesday real quick."

Everyone at the table quietly acknowledges my statement before I leave the store.

The bell of the door fills the air. "Wednesday!" She turns around as I catch up.

"I see you found something." I look towards her bag.

We both continue walking, rounding a corner to be met with Tyler on the other side.

"Don't wanna ask what trouble you two are in now." Tyler looks past us for a second, looking at the sheriff's office behind us.

"Nothing we can't handle. Your father's in particularly frustrating form today. Avoid." Wednesday says as Tyler draws his vision back to us.

"Yeah, welcome to my world." Tyler murmurs before changing the conversation. "You guys have the Rave'n this weekend, right? It was all the buzz at the Weathervane today."

"Yeah, the Rave'ns this weekend." I answer, curious on where he's going.

"Are you going with anyone Wednesday?" Tyler asks, a bit of nervousness to his voice.

I find Wednesday glancing at me for a moment. "I'm going with Y/n."

I look at Wednesday trying to conceal my shock.

He avoids eye contact for a moment "Hope you two have fun." Disappointment laces his voice as he walks past us

Wednesday turns around to face him. "I'm not sure why you're upset."

"That's kind of the problem." Tyler turns around to meet us again. "I mean, call me crazy, Wednesday, but you keep giving me these signals.

"You're crazy." I interject myself into the conversation to be met with a scowl from Tyler.

His eyes soften again before meeting Wednesday's. "I thought we liked each other, but then you pull something like this, and I have no idea where I stand. I mean, am I in the more than friend zone or just a pawn in some game you're playing."

There's a lull in the conversation before Wednesday continues. "I like girls, Tyler."

My ears perk up at this wonderful news.

"I mean, yeah clearly. You're going with her." Tyler gestures his hand towards me. "Sorry, that was mean."

There was another lull in the conversation filled with awkward silence.

He points behind himself. "I guess I'll see you guys around." He turns around to walk away.

I walk into my shared dorm room to get ready for the Rave'n early. The room is dark as the sun has set. I'm the only soul in here. I assume Wednesday is still moving the evidence board to the bee shed.

Enid wasn't the biggest fan of having a board covered in pictures of corpse parts in the dorm.

I approach my desk to be greeted with a letter with the initials 'W.A.'

I pick it up, carefully opening the envelope as to not tear anything.

Dear Y/n Y/l/n,

I'm having trouble trying to find the words, this is all new to me. I believe I may have some sort of 'feelings' for you. Every time we come in to contact, I have this nauseating feeling in the pit of my stomach. My heart races, unable to be calm in the presence of your touch. Yet, I'm insatiable for more.

I believe you may reciprocate these feelings, so why must we pretend otherwise? I want to attend this dance together more than merely friends.

However, if you don't reciprocate these feelings, I demand you burn this letter and forget this happened.

Wednesday Addams

The happiest smile slips onto my face as I jump in place. I put the letter in the top drawer of my desk before the door to the dorm opens.

Wednesday walks through the doorway, gazing towards me. She seems nervous.

"Wednesday!" I practically run to close the distance, my smile somehow getting bigger now that she's in my presence.

"I assume you found the letter." She states with a hint of worry.

I quickly nod. "Yes, and my answer is yes!"

Wednesday releases an exhale of relief. I see the weight release off her chest through her perfect posture.

"Can I uhm." I am now much quieter, my face quickly flushing red. "Can we hug?"

After Wednesday is silent for a moment and avoiding eye contact, I worry I may have overstepped.

"It's okay if you-"

"Yes." I find Wednesday's eyes have finally met mine again. "Please."

My smile returns before I wrap my arms around her into a warm embrace. Wednesday stands there for a moment with her arms by her side, unsure what to do.

Eventually, Wednesday reciprocates the hug. Wrapping her arms around my waist. Her touch is cool yet comforting.

We both untangle ourselves from the embrace, the warmth of each other's touch lingering on our skin.

"I'm going to get ready." I tell Wednesday, before heading to my closet.

I find myself waiting outside at the bottom of the stairs outside the dorm room. I didn't take as long as Wednesday to get ready.

I turn to the sound of Wednesday's heels tapping against the stairs. She's wearing this beautiful black gothic dress.

I can't help but gawk at the beauty descending the stairs. She looks ethereal.

"Wow, Wednesday. You look... " I'm silent for a moment, trying to find the right words and the confidence to speak them.

"Unrecognizable? Ridiculous?"

I find myself stumped for another moment. "Beautiful, I mean it Wednesday you have me at a loss for words."

Her gaze softens at my sentiment. Her eyes scan my body, silently admiring my appearance.

She breaks eye contact for a moment. "We can hold hands, if that's something you want to do."

I think it's so cute that's she trying to play it off as if she doing it for me.

"Yeah, I'd like that." I hold my hand out, waiting for hers to meet mine before our fingers interlock. I feel a jolt of electricity shoot through me from her contact, bringing to life the butterflies in my stomach.

"Shall we go?" I can tell by the slight shakiness to her voice I'm having the same effect on her.

I nod, my smile impossible to hide, as we make our way to the dance.

Wednesday and I walk through the entrance, our fingers interlocked. The sound of pop music fills the room as I feel everyone's eyes on us before Ms. Thornhill approaches. "Wednesday, Y/n. What a lovely surprise.

Thornhill's eyes stare at our hands. "I didn't know you two were a couple." She says with a smile

Wednesday and I glance at each other. "It's kind of a new thing." I say awkwardly.

"We're going to get drinks." Wednesday states, mostly to me.

"Have fun you two!" Ms Thornhill says with a smile as we walk away.

We approach the long table together. I squeeze Wednesday's hand so I don't get use to her touch.

"OMG I love the look!" Enid approaches, excitement filling her very being. We both turn towards her and she notices our hands.

Enid's eyes go wide. "Wait are you two officially a thing now?!"

I feel the temperature of my face drastically rise, Wednesday turns her face to see mine.

"I uh-" I start to say before Wednesday interrupts me.

"Interesting choice of date." Wednesday states flatly, looking past Enid to see Lucas.

I follow Wednesday's eyes, finding Lucas standing awkwardly.

"Wait, your date is Lucas Walker? You know he's the worst right?" I say, a hint of malice in my voice.

"It's not what it looks like." Enid says defensively.

"Good, because that pilgrim already has two strikes in my book." Wednesday is practically staring daggers at Lucas.

"Lucas is trying to make his ex jealous, and I'm trying to make Ajax jealous. It's a win-win."

"Why can't you just talk to Ajax instead of doing this? Communication is important." I say, ending my sentence quickly as I see Lucas approaching.

He puts his hands up like we're arresting him. "Wednesday, Y/n, I come in peace."

"That's a shame, I brought my pocket mace." Wednesday says, causing Lucas to lower his arm with a bit of fear etched onto his face. "The medieval kind."

Wednesday turns to grab herself and I a drink as Enid and Lucas walk away. "Just to let you know in advance, tomorrow night we're going to stake out a cave with Eugene. Eugene saw something in one of Xavier's drawing."

Wednesday hands me the drink. "I haven't been too good at keeping you up to date on our plans. I apologize."

I grab the drink. "It's cool, thanks for the heads up." I motion to dink Wednesday's and I's drinks together before each of us takes a sip.

We both turn as we see Xavier approach us at of our peripheral vision. "Hey Xavier! Did you ever find someone to come with?"

He looks around awkwardly for a moment. "Yeah uh, I came with Bianca."

The smile fades from my face. "What, why would you do that?"

Xavier shrugs. "Better than going alone I guess."

There is a lull in the conversation until 'The Goo Goo Muck' by 'The Cramps' started playing.

Wednesday drags me towards the crowd dancing. "Dance with me."

"Wednesday, I don't know I'm not much of a dancer." There's a hint of anxiety on my face as we get closer to the crowd.

"Why'd you agree to come to the dance with me if we weren't going to dance." She's dragging me in-between people now, persistent on the idea.

"I uh-" I find myself still as Wednesday let's go of my hand.

I find her eyes staring into mine intensely as she starts to get into the music, shaking her shoulders back and forth to the rhythm. I stand there awkwardly, watching her.

Her movements are rigid, but rhythmic. I find myself entranced.

I leave the trance after a few moments, remembering where I am. I look around to find people staring, and I can't tell if it's the good or bad kind.

My heartbeat accelerates at the sudden attention. I find myself unable to move. Do people think I'm weird? Why won't I dance?

I force my legs to move, shaking from the anxiety as I walk through the crowd of people dancing.

"Y/n?" I faintly hear Wednesday's voice as I make more distance.

I find an almost empty area just outside the party. I sigh as I sit down.

"Y/n?" I hear Wednesday's voice again as she sits down next to me. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just. I get overwhelmed by crowds easily." I say, an awkward silence fills the air besides the muted sound of the music from the party.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have forced you." Wednesday states, a hint of empathy in her voice.

I find myself staring at the floor. "I want you to have fun as well though."

I find myself having difficulty choosing between looking at Wednesday and avoiding all eye contact, flickering between both.

"How about we take it slower." Wednesday scots closer, my eyes manage to remain on Wednesday's empathetic ones. "When a slow song plays, we'll dance together. I'll lead and guide you as we move along to the music."

I find myself nodding with a smile. "Okay, thank you Wends." A little bit of the anxiety fading.

Bianca walks in, taking a seat near us. I hold back any negative comments as it could effect Xavier's night as well. I notice her eyes are slightly glossy.

"I know this isn't usually something I'd ask you, but are you okay?" I ask, slight concern in my voice

Bianca looks at me before shrugging, looking away again the next moment.

Wednesday and I exchange a glance. "Do you want to talk about it?" I ask.

After another moment of silence, Wednesday interjects. "Where's Xavier?"

"We had a little tiff." Bianca says, giving in. "About you two actually."

Wednesday and I share a concerned glance. "What about us?" We say simultaneously.

"He wasn't expecting to see you two together. He was happy for you at first, but there was jealousy building up or something. After he saw you two dancing, or more so saw Wednesday dancing and you standing there, he asked me to use my siren song on him to have him forget his feelings."

I look away for a second, ignoring her comment before speaking. "He did that?"

Bianca nods with her eyes slightly more glossy. I can imagine how used she must feel.

Our conversation is cut short when a scream finds it way to our room. Wednesday and I instantly stand, looking towards the noise which is followed by multiple screams.

Wednesday grabs my hand as we run side by side back to the dance, where the screams originated. Some people covered in what looks like blood run past us.

After we squeeze through the crowd, we find the sprinklers are spraying the supposed blood all over the party.

Wednesday smiles at the scene before sticking out her hand under the continuous splatter, putting her finger to her mouth to taste whatever it is.

My face contorts a bit in disgust.

Wednesday's amused smile quickly fades. "They couldn't even spring for real pigs' blood." Her shoulders drop in disappointment. "It's only paint."

People continuously run past us in fear, unable to tell who's bumping into who. Suddenly, Wednesday's head falls back, entering a vision.

I hold Wednesday to avoid her falling and for us to not be trampled. As the crowd loses volume, Wednesday comes back. "Eugene is in the woods."

She meets my eyes with concern. "He's in danger."

Wednesday grabs my hand before running with the crowd. Letting go of my hand whenever we escape the crowd, we soon find ourselves leaving the school into the woods.

The hectic sound of our panic-filled footsteps fill the forest with the crunching of leaves. The moonlight casting a pale glow over the forest.

I wave my wand out, emitting a blue light to guide the way.

"Eugene!" Wednesday and I take turns shouting. My heart beating at a thousand miles an hour, my legs burning at the sudden activity.

We both stop for a moment, looking around. "Eugene?!" I shout.

"Y/n! over here!" We hear Eugene yell.

Wednesday and I turn towards his voice, running towards it as fast as possible

We find Eugene laying in the fallen leaves. "Eugene." Wednesday states, standing in place.

I quickly approach Eugene, kneeling beside him. He has three fresh claw wounds across his chest, the blood pouring out of them. I close my eyes, recalling a spell I've been practicing the past few months.

I put my wand to the end of one of the claw marks running across his torso, blood trickling out staining his clothes.

"Oh my God! Is he alive?!" Ms Thornhill approaches from behind.

I close my eyes in frustration and panic. "Everyone please shut up!" I shout, overwhelmed. "I need to concentrate."

Everyone goes silent, staring at my back. I put my wand back to the top of the wound, running it down smoothly till it reaches the bottom.

"Vulnera, Sanentur." My voice utters the incantations slowly and rhythmically in a hushed lullaby.

I repeat the incantation, following the same motion. This time, the blood starts to clear away into nothing. Cleaning the wound.

I pause for a moment, before doing the incantation one more time. The wound knitting itself shut.

I take a deep inhale. "Two more to go." I utter to myself, feeling the four eyes behind me staring into me like daggers.

I find the end of the second cut, my wand trembling. I take another deep breath to collect myself.

"Vulnera Sanentur." It feels as if my voice is the only sound in the world.

Whenever I finish with that cut, I feel my eyes getting glossy. The stress overflowing my body. I can't break down just yet. I find the last cut, casting the healing spell one last time.

I stare at his unconscious body, at his healed but new found scars. Tears start to stream down my face, the stress escaping my body.

I put my hands over eyes, my shoulders slumped forward. The sound of my sobs echo amongst the trees. The sense of relief strengthening my overwhelmed tears.

Part 8.

Past Lives Masterlist

[shirleyschmidts]

someone posted a video of a concert that I believe wasn't previously available on youtube etc.

[kyouka-supremacy]

🤔.

[brummiereader]

@mischievouslittlecreature ahh I've finally reached the first chapter of the next act 😍!

The phone booth that stood before them looked terribly out of place, red and man-made and screaming from within as the phone tucked inside its guts rang out. I would have quoted the entire first part because I adored how you described the scene. You fully immersed me in one of the best cinematic scenes of the series. So well that I swear I could see it playing out in front of my eyes. I particularly loved your description of the lone phone booth (this has inspired a new change in theme for my page 😂😍). And you're so right with your observations, one I made when I first watched this scene too. What the hell is it doing there 😂?? It's completely out of place. I don't think I've ever seen a phone booth randomly dumped like that in the middle of no where as a kid growing up in the UK 😅.

Wraith’s hooves clomped against the hard ground, snorts and quiet whinnies sounding from his nose. Ahh, I also really loved this description of Wraith 😍. And with the wind currently battering everything outside where I am, this whole scene was just perfectionist to read ❤️.

That was how things were these days, for the most part. Lizzie may have begrudgingly given her blessing for Tommy to remain seeing Lucy behind closed doors despite his marriage to her, but that did not mean she was particularly happy about it. This made me scoff so loudly! "Blessing"🙄. Lizzie came second! The day she finally realises her place in this arrangement, I will scream with joy! I'm kinda relieved the initial beginnings of this "marriage" are over. I know Lizzie's still kicking her feet about things, but it's a fair amount of years since the last act, so I'm hoping 🤞🏼 that she's at least done with her attempts to seduce Tommy (remembers "you're my property" scene 😳).

I'm gutted to read about Lucy and Charlie's strained relationship 😭. I can see how it could have easily happened with Lucy always away from work, but it's still heartbreaking to see how bad things have become in the household.

Oh, she was going to disembowel Michael fucking Gray. Please do, Lucy! And start with that moustache first. Maybe plucking out each hair one by one 😂.

“I won’t be on my own. I’m never on my own.” Tommy pulled himself into the saddle. “Lucy,” arghhh, I squealed at this 😍! I loved the double meaning to this. Instead of him referring to Grace like he does in the series, he's referring to Lucy 🥰. They really are joined at the hip!

Gosh, another heartbreaking scene for both Tommy and Lucy as they see their lover 😔. I continue to love how you make them descend into these darker moments together. They share so much pain, and instead of dealing with it separately, they always go through it together. Part of me believes they do because they're the same person, that deals with thing in the same way. And another part of me believes it's because they couldn't possibly do it without the other. Like the saying "a problem shared is a problem halved". They're so codependent on each other, and where some people might think that's not a healthy trait to have in a relationship, for Tommy and Lucy it's the only way for them to survive 😭❤️.

Lucy did not speak much during the meeting, though she almost jumped across the conference table to throttle Linda at multiple points. The image of Lucy lunging over the table at Linda in my mind was both epic and hilarious 😂!

Oooh the tension was thick during the Garrison scene. I know Ada is only looking out for her younger brother, but it made me a little nervous how she and Lizzie seemed to gang up. I really hope this isn't the start of something, because she was so understanding of Tommy and Lucy's relationship in the previous part 😬.

She stood, muttering, “I can’t be bothered with this shit,” loud enough for everyone to hear, before storming out the door. Ahh, good ol'Lizzie, always there to make things even more awkward. Even in the series, I never got the impression that Lizzie was really in, in, with what the family was up to. So when I read this part, i was as shocked as Lucy at her outburst and so perfectly worded "cunty" behaviour!

Great chapter, Lily! Can't wait to read more 😍.

Part 26: Do You Love Me

Summary: Devastating news from Michael in America leads Tommy and Lucy to congregate with ghosts.

Word Count: 6,213

Warnings: Drug use, polyamory, animal death, and references to pregnancy.

Notes: This chapter is a little heavy on exposition, so sorry in advance for that. But there's a bit of a time jump between this and the previous part, so I wanted to make sure everyone was caught up on the dynamics between the characters before we really hit the ground running.

Previous Part • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 1: Gathering Storm

The wind howled over the barren hills, pushing white wisps of mist across the landscape. There was hardly a tree in sight, and what little browned or yellowed grass there was trembled against the cold breeze. The phone booth that stood before them looked terribly out of place, red and man-made and screaming from within as the phone tucked inside its guts rang out. 

Wraith’s hooves clomped against the hard ground, snorts and quiet whinnies sounding from his nose. His sides flexed against Lucy’s legs with each movement, betraying the powerful muscle encased under his deep black pelt. 

Tommy eased him to a stop beside the phone booth and dismounted, handing her the reins. Lucy turned her head to look out at the wasteland of dirt and rolling hills around them as he ducked into the booth to pick up the still shrieking phone. Wind tugged lightly at her red curls and kissed icily at her freckled cheeks. Wraith snorted, shifting from foot to foot, dipping his enormous head, black mane twisting in the breeze. Lucy gave him a gentle pat to quell his impatience, watching the dark silhouette of Tommy’s body through the glass panes of the phone booth. Condensation beaded on the transparent material, leaving it blurry. 

They had been out living on the land for a few days. Sleeping in vardos, eating what they were able to catch or forage, and languishing in the fresh air that was free from the smoke and soot of the city. Lizzie and the kids were with them, as was Johnny Dogs and some of his kin. All of whom were lingering back at the camp while she and Tommy went to take the prearranged phone call. It was nice. A much needed break of the usual insanity of their lives. 

Well, it had been nice. All the way up until that business with Dangerous. 

Lucy swallowed hard, adjusting her grip on Wraith’s reins. Poor, sweet, wild horse. Tommy had been nearly despondent when it became clear they would have to put him down. He had insisted on doing the deed alone, and when he came to her after it was done, there was a shakiness in his hands that only she knew him well enough to notice, and his eyes were unsteady and clouded over with grief and something dark and despairing. 

The wind picked up a little, and the walls of the phone booth creaked and rattled. A foreboding death whistle sounded across the hills. Lucy shifted uncomfortably, adjusting the lay of her peaked cap on her head, trying to pull it down to protect her ears from the cold. 

Tommy emerged from the booth a moment later, eyes sweeping across the muddied hills, taking in the gray clouds gathering in the sky. He looked tired, the face under the shadow of his cap drawn in and layered with stress. 

“Everything alright?” she asked when he approached, scooting back in the saddle so that he could climb into the space in front of her on the stallion.  

“Yeah. Arthur got a letter from the Angels of Retribution. They said that they hadn’t even heard of us, so I told Finn to send Aberama and Isiah to introduce themselves. But to stay out of it himself.” 

“Good.” Isiah and Aberama were two of their soldiers that she trusted the most. Aberama had proven himself to be an invaluable asset. Shaped by experience, calculation, and ruthlessness. And Isiah…well, Isiah had been trained by her personally. “Ready to head back?”

Tommy took hold of the reins, sighing and looking out at the vast landscape around them. They could disappear out here, if they wanted to. Never to be seen again. “Yeah,” he said, in a voice that indicated the exact opposite. Lucy wrapped both arms around his waist, pressing her front to his back, holding onto him for both stability and comfort. He lowered one of his big palms to rest on top of hers where they clasped against his stomach, thumb rubbing her knuckles before taking hold of the reins. He snapped them once and drove his heels into Wraith’s sides, and the massive black stallion took off in a ferocious, booming gallop across the field.

They rode back the long way, neither of them saying anything as the wind whipped at their clothes. Lucy didn’t mind; she could sense that Tommy needed the time to think.  

By the time they picked their way to the ridge overlooking where they had made camp, the wind had died down somewhat. Good thing, too. The cold was making her shoulders begin to ache with the pains that so often plagued them.

Looking down, she could see the little figures of Johnny and his boys moving amongst the wagons. They had dug a huge hole in the time that they’d been gone, a small mountain of dirt piled up next to it. The little lake shimmered in the sunlight. A dog barked. 

Tommy brought Wraith to a stop, staring with his eyes fixed not on the hole Johnny and his men had dug, but the body wrapped in canvas next to it. Lucy gave him a small squeeze around the middle. Near the wagons, by where a table and chairs had been erected, she could see the tall, elegantly dressed figure of Lizzie looking up at them. Beside her, a smaller figure, hard to make out at this distance, but probably Ruby, turned her head to stare at the ridge. 

In front of her, Tommy shifted, reaching into his pocket and procuring a small brown bottle, uncorking it. 

“Can I have some?” she asked, after he took a small swig. He passed it back to her silently. The drug burned slightly as it entered her mouth and coated her throat. She was mindful not to drink too much; she was small, and it wouldn’t take a lot to have her flying high as a kite if she wasn’t careful. Handing back the vial to Tommy, he slid the cork back into place and pocketed it. 

More and more often, they found themselves swigging from that little bottle.

Tommy nudged Wraith into moving again, and they started to follow the path descending the ridge, heading into the camp. 

Once they arrived, Tommy dismounted first to be immediately greeted by Ruby running to him. He stooped, beckoning her to him and scooping her into his arms. Lizzie was right behind her daughter, moving to walk by Tommy’s side as he carried Ruby over to where the wagons were stationed. She gave a thin, barely perceptual smile to Lucy as she passed by the horse. 

That was how things were these days, for the most part. Lizzie may have begrudgingly given her blessing for Tommy to remain seeing Lucy behind closed doors despite his marriage to her, but that did not mean she was particularly happy about it.  

It was no secret that Tommy and Lizzie had problems. Lucy lived at Arrow House with them; she had a front row seat to all the shouting matches and bitter resentment that had plagued their marriage. 

She had done her best not to get involved. Tommy and Lizzie’s relationship was their business, and she doubted that Lizzie would respond well to her meddling in it. But it was hard, with her proclivity to want to fix things for people, to not try to repair their strained union. 

Things between her and Lizzie were…tumultuous. They’d had their share of rough patches here and there in the years since she and Tommy got married. Incidents like Lizzie asking Lucy to move rooms. It had been shortly after Lizzie and Ruby moved into Arrow House. Lizzie had wanted Ruby to have the room closest to the master bedroom should she need her in the middle of the night. Lucy hadn’t minded. Of course, she had assumed that Lizzie would have her moved to one of the unoccupied rooms further down the hall, not to the opposite end of the house. In a drafty, overlooked room. The drafts went unfixed for nearly a month, despite her bringing them up to Lizzie multiple times. It was only after Tommy took notice of them that they were finally dealt with. 

Over time she’d grown used to Lizzie’s bursts of jealousy-induced passive aggression, even though it still always stung. Despite her attempts to not let it bother her. In the end, she really felt quite sorry for her, and massively guilty for the role she had undeniably played in amplifying her misery. 

She should have put a stop to it all earlier, back when Lizzie was still a prostitute that she and Tommy frequented when looking for a bit of variety in their sex life. And especially after he had made Lizzie his secretary. And yet they still continued to intermediately sleep with her. That had been a mistake, and not just because of the pregnancy. It had led Lizzie on, and that hadn’t been fair.

And then they’d gone and made things even worse when Tommy married Lizzie.

They had not been dishonest about the arrangement that would come with the marriage. Tommy had not married Lizzie for love, but for convenience. Having an illegitimate child could hurt his image as a politician. And he needed a wife. Someone to run the house and care for the children while he was gone. And to help project the image of a traditional family to his constituents. Marrying her was the right, respectable thing for him to do. Lizzie would enjoy all the benefits of being Mrs. Shelby, but Tommy and Lucy would be continuing their relationship. They had all been clear on that. Lizzie had said that she was okay with that.  

But Lizzie had always been in love with Tommy. Lucy had seen it in her eyes, years ago. And their current actions had done nothing but fan the flames of hope that Lizzie carried in her heart that someday, Tommy would love her the way that she wanted him to. Lucy sometimes wondered if Lizzie thought that if she wanted it badly enough, she’d be able to change him into the man that she wanted him to be.  

Tommy had tried. Sort of. Lucy had seen it during the first year of his marriage to Lizzie. He had tried so hard to play the role of if not a loving and attentive husband, than at the very least a present and dutiful one. But as time went on and the mask slipped, he had ultimately given up the charade, resigning himself to a life with a wife who he didn’t love. 

And then the bitterness and resentment came. There were days where things were better. Lucy could sit by the fire, giggling and playing cards or chess with Lizzie after the kids had gone to bed. But then there were days where even the smallest thing set Lizzie off, spewing cruel words at her or Tommy who, true to his nature, gave just as good as he got.  

In all honesty, Arrow House was no longer the refuge that it had once been. She and Tommy were now relegated to quick and brief touches and kisses in the darkest corners of the house or else they risked Lizzie’s ire. Not that work was much different, as anything outside of strictly professional behavior could risk blowing up everything they had worked so hard to build these past few years. There was the apartment they had in London for when they worked too late to justify driving back to Birmingham, but often when they went there they were both too exhausted to do much more than sleep. It was with a bit of a startle that Lucy realized that she could not remember the last time they had done anything even remotely romantic outside of quick, almost mindless fucks.  

One of Johnny’s boys came over to lead Wraith away by the reins, and Lucy remained securely seated in the saddle, resting a hand on the back of the irritable horse’s neck. Even after so many years, he didn’t take too kindly to strangers, and there was always a risk when someone unfamiliar tried to approach him that he would try to bite or kick. But with her still astride him, he behaved himself, letting Johnny’s boy guide him towards one of the wagons. 

“I’ll do that,” she said to the man, dismounting with ease and taking the rope he was about to use to tie Wraith to the side of the vardo. He nodded respectfully, handing it over and walking around her to go help Johnny and his men haul the carcass of Dangerous into the grave they’d dug.  

She’d just finished looping the rope into place, giving Wraith a companionable pat on the flank when she heard Charlie’s voice raise in an angry cry from where he, Tommy, Lizzie, and Ruby were all gathered at a nearby wagon,

“No! It’s what you do! Shoot horses, shoot people. Everybody says!” He stood, turned, and disappeared back into the wagon, stomping his little feet in a way that was eerily similar to his father. 

Tommy winced, shoulders drawing in, expression locking down in a way that Lucy recognized as him working very hard not to let the hurt he was feeling show too obviously on his face. Straightening, he fetched a cigarette from his case and went to the hole where Dangerous’s body lay. After a moment’s hesitation, Ruby followed him. 

“What happened?” Lucy asked in a quiet voice, going to stand by Lizzie, slipping off her gloves to tuck them away in her pocket.

“Charlie heard Johnny say in Rokka that Tommy shot the horse.”

“Oh.”

“He doesn’t understand that it was out of mercy. And he won’t listen to anyone who tries to explain it to him.”

Lucy sighed, pulling out and lighting a cigarette. “Well, at least we know he’s been paying attention when learning his languages.”

“Maybe you could try talking to him…”

She flicked ash down onto the grass. “He doesn’t really listen to me all that much these days.”

Lizzie looked down and away. Lucy thought she might’ve seen a flicker of guilt in her eyes. 

There was a time when she and Charlie were close. She had known him since before he was born. And even prior to Grace’s death, she had been a second mother to him. Something both Tommy and Grace encouraged. Her lovers had wanted their son to see her as another parent, and so that was the position she had taken up in his life. Or at least tried to. 

But things had shifted in the past few years. Some of it could be chalked up to just the boy growing up and that typical Shelby willfulness finally making itself known. She didn’t think, for all her faults and all the strife between them, that Lizzie had purposefully driven a wedge between her and Charlie. But working with Tommy in London meant that she wasn’t home as much, and with Lizzie always at Arrow House and functioning more often as his mother than Lucy was, things had changed. Slowly, they drifted apart. And now he hardly spoke to her. He called Lizzie Mum, but not her. Never her.

Lucy could not fault him for growing more partial to Lizzie. After all, she was the one who was always there, to help him with his schoolwork, attend his extracurriculars, mind that he ate his vegetables at dinner, and kiss his scraped knees when he fell playing in the garden. It made sense that he would grow closer to her, and that he would side with her when he saw just how much distress the arrangement between his three parents brought her. In his eyes, Lucy had to figure that she appeared to be the primary source of his mother’s pain. 

Maybe she was. 

Perhaps that was why she gave up so easily without a fight, letting him drift away from her with no protest. A way to try to atone for the agony she had caused Lizzie. She may have Lizzie’s husband, but Lizzie had her child. 

She loved Charlie. She only ever wanted what was best for him, and right now, that was Lizzie. She would take care of him, offer him the closest thing to a normal, stable life that was possible for him to have.

It was better for him, this way. He deserved a better mother than the broken fragments that was all Lucy had to offer. 

Despite her understanding of her boy’s–no, not hers, not anymore–changed emotions towards her, it hurt like a knife to the chest. She had loved him from the moment she first held him, had rocked him to sleep hundreds of times when he was a baby, had watched him grow up into the precocious little boy he was now. He was her baby. Or at least the closest she would ever have to one. 

Of Tommy’s two children, Ruby was surprisingly the one who was warmer towards her these days. But then again, Ruby was sweet with everyone.   

Turning her gaze back over to where Tommy stood by the unfilled grave with his daughter, she examined the lines of sorrow standing out starkly on his face as he gazed at the dead horse in the hole. She dropped her cigarette to the ground, grinding it under her heel, about to go to him when the growl of an approaching engine caught her attention. Her head turned, hand half raising to dip inside her coat to where her revolver sat in its holster tucked securely against her ribs, before she recognized it as Arthur’s car. 

By the grave, Tommy had also noticed the car, ushering Ruby over towards Lizzie and moving to meet Arthur when he shut off the engine and jumped out of the driver’s seat. He had a newspaper in his hand. 

Lucy moved to stand at Tommy’s side, craning her head around his shoulder to peer at the newspaper’s headline when Arthur handed it over. 

BILLIONS LOST IN WALL STREET CRASH, it read, in huge black letters. Behind them, she could hear the scrape of shovels and the dull thud of dirt being dumped back into the hole. 

Despite the headline, her stomach did not drop with horror. They had known that this was coming. Tommy had already instructed Michael to sell before the numbers of the stocks and shares collapsed, so they would be–generally speaking–unaffected. 

It wasn’t until Arthur started speaking, explaining how Michael had ignored their advice in favor of that of a broker and held on, that her guts began to turn with outrage and dismay. Michael had held on. And taken them all down with him.

She exhaled roughly, taking a step back, slowly shaking her head. Oh, no. Oh, fucking no.

How much had they lost? Just trying to do the calculations in her head for a ballpark number made her temples start to hurt. 

Oh, she was going to disembowel Michael fucking Gray.

Incompetent, arrogant, backstabbing fool. They should never have forgiven him for that shit he pulled during the vendetta. Banishment had been too kind a punishment for him.  

“That idiot,” she seethed, looking to Tommy. “I’m going to kill him.”

The expression on his face said that he may very well let her. He started to tread back and forth, rubbing at his eyes, mumbling in a way she knew was more to himself than to any of them. His teeth were grinding together, jaw jumping under his skin. It did not take long before he was shouting, pacing the ground like an angry jaguar and raging.

“What do I have to do to make people fucking listen to me!?” he screamed into the wind, a hand going to clasp over his mouth as he paced a few more times then stilled, eyes staring with his mind spinning behind them. 

And then he was jumping into action, sounding off orders to both Lizzie and Arthur with a snap of his fingers. He did not need to give Lucy her directions, she already knew them, reaching into her pocket to procure her leather gloves and slide them over her hands, gesturing to one of Johnny’s men to get Wraith where he was tied up. 

“I need to do some thinking,” Tommy announced as he headed towards the horse with Arthur on his heels. 

“Oh. Oh, you do that best on your own, don’t you, eh?” Arthur challenged, agitated. 

“I won’t be on my own. I’m never on my own.” Tommy pulled himself into the saddle. “Lucy,” he said, and she was already there, reaching up to take his outstretched hand, the strength in his arm helping to leverage her up onto Wraith’s back behind him. He gave one last set of instructions to Lizzie, and a final parting word to Arthur, and then he was driving Wraith into a gallop deeper into the hills. This time, they did not head up to the top of the ridge, but instead towards the trees, Wraith’s canter slowing as they entered the dense thicket of foliage, the wilderness seemingly opening up, and swallowing them whole. 

∗ ∗ ∗  

“Do you want me to kill him?”

They were seated on a log in front of the dancing flames of the fire Tommy had ignited shortly after darkness fell over the forest. Lucy had her head on his shoulder, leaning against his side to soak in the warmth that radiated from his body.

“Hm,” Tommy hummed, fingertips stroking where they rested on her upper arm, cheek turning against the top of her head. She had to bite back a smile at the clear consideration in his voice. “Not yet. Not until we know what really happened.”

“He’s a snake.”

“He’s an idiot. But that doesn’t mean this was a purposeful betrayal.”

“Yeah,” she agreed with a sigh, adjusting her head on him. Tommy picked at a sprig of mint held in his gloved hands, pulling off a few of the green leaves and popping them into his mouth. Wraith snorted from where he was tied to a nearby tree. “I still don’t trust him.”  

Tommy tossed the remainder of the sprig away. “Me neither.”

Before them, the fire popped and crackled. Lucy grabbed a few bits of kindling that they’d collected to feed into the flames. 

“I hate to add more onto your plate, but I got a message from Ada’s doctor earlier.” Every day since they’d been out in the country, she went to the red phone booth to take messages from Frances, Isiah, and their other various informants. “She’s pregnant.”

Tommy sighed deeply, but didn’t appear surprised. “Younger’s?”

“The doctor didn’t know, but I would assume so. Who else could it be? Not that it affects things all that much. I just thought you should know. So you don’t get blindsided by it later.”

“Thank you.”

They fell into companionable silence again. He had been quiet since they took off into the woods, busy in his head working on all the new problems Michael had just created for them. Lucy offered suggestions and insights when prompted, but otherwise just let him be, knowing after so many years together that her presence at his side was all he needed while he strategized. 

He shifted, reaching into his pocket to once more procure the little bottle of dope he kept tucked away there. Uncorking it, he handed it over to her first. Lucy took it gratefully, the glass cold against her fingers as she brought it to her lips and tilted her head back to take a swig. Almost immediately, she felt her mind begin to loosen, the corners of her eyesight growing fuzzy. 

She handed the bottle back to Tommy. There wasn’t much left; and he downed the remainder of the drug, tossing the empty bottle into the fire uncaringly. His arm went around her once more, the solid strength of it holding her to his side. Lucy snuggled in close, grateful for the comfort and heat, hoping that she could offer the same to him. 

Her eyes closed, and together, they waited for the ghost. 

She did not need to open her eyes to know once she had arrived. She could sense the way that the air around them seemed to shift, the weight of another presence appearing across the fire from them heavy despite her lack of a corporeal body.

Tommy spoke to her a little, and she responded in her gentle Irish lilt. Lucy could hear the smile on her face. The love in her voice.  

Quick as she appeared in front of them, she was suddenly behind them, her arms encircling them. Solid and real, though they shouldn’t have been. Her body was nothing but ash, spreading into the wind, and yet she was there, holding them as though she had never left. 

“All this time…” Tommy murmured, reaching to hold onto the ghost tighter. 

“I know. Our love still remains,” Grace said. Lucy felt tears squeeze from her eyes to roll down her cheeks. Grace’s hand petted the back of her head. 

She had been coming to them both more and more often lately. They had each seen her on rare occasions before, but now it was a regular occurrence. Probably because of the dope. 

Shared hallucinations, or real? It didn’t really matter. She was there. She was speaking to them and holding them. Things were as they once were, before she and their only real chance at happiness was ripped away from them. 

She was gone as quickly as she arrived, leaving nothing but cold air where she once stood over them. Lucy snatched at the empty space where her hand had been settled on her dead lover’s waist, lips trembling. Instead she latched onto Tommy, feeling him maneuver her so that her head was in his lap. He hugged her tighter, face bowing to bury in her hair, and there in the dark, she felt through their bond the true heavy weight of his despair crashing down onto them both, and the dampness of his salty tears dripping onto her scalp to seep into her skin. 

∗ ∗ ∗

By morning, they had a plan mapped out. Not a particularly desirable or moralistic one, but then again, few of their strategies ever really were. 

It would sustain them until the current financial crisis was over, at the very least.

The first meeting on the subject was held at the Shelbys’ office in Birmingham. The long table in the conference room was already occupied by Polly, Ada, Arthur, Linda, Lizzie, and Leon Greene when Lucy and Tommy arrived. Lucy raised an eyebrow at the tension she felt already crackling in the air and shared a look with Tommy as she sat down in the chair to the right of his.

The meeting went over well enough, despite Linda’s snobbish remarks and attempts to undercut Tommy at every turn. She’d been getting worse, ever since Arthur became chairman of the board. Like she thought that it was her husband who ought to be king, instead of Tommy. 

The idea made Lucy want to roll her eyes so hard in her head that they were at risk of popping out. She loved Arthur to pieces, she really did. But he was not suited to the position of leading the empire Tommy had built. 

Lucy did not speak much during the meeting, though she almost jumped across the conference table to throttle Linda at multiple points. Instead, she relegated herself to the sidelines, watching and listening quietly, as she so often did. Examining the faces of those seated around the table as Tommy explained their current financial situation, and his proposal for what they were to do to try to mitigate it.

At the end of the meeting, all of them–except for Linda who had already stormed out–voted unanimously to go forward with Tommy’s plan. 

Not that there had ever been any doubt that they would. 

The next meeting was for family only. They left Mr. Greene back at the office while the rest of them stepped out into the smoky air of Small Heath, heading for the Garrison. They entered the pub to rapturous cheers and applause, people immediately swarming around Tommy, eager to shake his hand and thank him for the work he’d been doing. 

Lucy watched him work the room, effortlessly charming each person who approached him. By the time he raised his voice to address the entire population residing in the pub, he had them all in the palm of his hand. He probably could have told them all to walk into the canal and they would have done so without question. 

His request that they move into the saloon bar attached to the pub, albeit with the incentive of a promise of free drinks, was met with more cheers, the patrons hurrying towards the doors. Ada, Polly, and Lizzie all went to convene in one of the booths while Tommy leaned his shoulder against a nearby pillar, and Arthur went to sit in a chair at a table next to the booth. Lucy moved to close the doors leading into the saloon bar once all the patrons were packed inside, flicking the lock into place. Then she pulled up a chair between Arthur and Tommy, shedding her coat to lay over the back of it before sitting. 

The meeting started off with Ada drawing a bullet from the depths of her handbag and setting it down on the table in front of her. Followed by an announcement that not only had Finn disobeyed them about staying out of the hit they’d ordered in Chinatown, and as a result ended up on Ada’s couch with a bullet in his arm, but he’d also completely spilled his guts to her as far as the details of what he’d been doing there. 

Fucking kid needed a lesson in how to keep his damn mouth shut. 

But the damage had been done, and Ada and Lizzie were both well and truly furious about the whole thing.

“Oh, Tommy, sweetheart,” Lizzie shook her head. Lucy raised her eyebrows at the term of endearment. “I listen to you. I listen to you when you tell me no more sport for anyone named Shelby. I listen to you when you make me promises.”

Lucy looked down at her hands, unconsciously playing with the plain golden rings that encircled several of her fingers. Guilt twisted inside her like a snake, writhing and squirming. How many of those promises had Tommy broken, in the years since they’d been married?

How many times had it been her fault when he did? 

He tried to explain why he’d sent their boys into Chinatown, but that only seemed to fan the flames of Lizzie and Ada’s mounting anger. 

“Jesus Christ, Tommy!” Lizzie snarled, slamming her hand down on the leather material lining the bench of the booth. 

“I think that you both are overreacting a little here,” Lucy decided to finally speak. “It’s not that big of a deal. And it’s not that different from the type of thing we used to do all the bloody time. Finn’s fine, an asshole pimp is dead, and we’re about to make a hefty hunk of cash for carrying out the hit.” 

“It was a particular opportunity.” Lucy started a little when, of all people, Polly chimed in. Polly, who hated her. Who had never accepted her. And yet, who had just spoken up in agreement with her. 

Lizzie’s eyes darted between her, Lucy, and Tommy. Something dawned on her face, and then her features hardened into a deadly expression that Lucy had become all too familiar with.

“But you told Polly and Lucy,” was all she said in response to the additional explanation that Tommy tried to give her, her voice cold as ice. And despite Polly, Arthur, and Tommy all starting to speak with further details and justifications for the whole thing, all it took was one look at Lizzie’s face and Lucy knew not a single word was actually getting through to her. She was too focused on that one detail: that her husband had told his lover and his aunt information that she believed herself to be entitled to know instead. 

She would be chewing on that for the remainder of the week. Probably even longer. 

“Lizzie, you need to understand–” Tommy started, but didn’t get very far. 

“That you tell Lucy and Polly, but not me.” Her jaw was clenched in a way that Lucy knew meant she was fighting very hard to keep the venom she wanted to spit at them from spewing out. Probably the only reason why it hadn’t already was because they were amongst others. If they’d been in private, she’d have told them both exactly what she thought of them. 

As if they didn’t know already. 

Tommy’s further attempts to smooth things over went about as well as Lucy expected. Once Lizzie got into one of her moods, she could be impossible to reason with. It was better to just leave her alone until it passed. 

“Lizzie, if Finn had listened to me, you wouldn’t have known. When we go home, I’ll explain,” Tommy tried. Lucy cringed, already knowing that was the wrong thing to say even before Lizzie scoffed and started to gather up her things. 

She stood, muttering, “I can’t be bothered with this shit,” loud enough for everyone to hear, before storming out the door. Lucy rolled her eyes. All this whining and complaining about not being kept in the loop on things, and yet every time she did have the opportunity to be involved, she acted as if it was the last thing she was actually interested in doing.  

Fuck, she was not looking forward to dealing with her and the earful she was sure they were due to get when they got home. Maybe it would be better for them to stay away for a few days to let Lizzie cool off. They could sleep over at their apartment in London instead of going home to Arrow House. 

It didn’t take long for Ada to follow Lizzie in storming out. Lucy watched her go, rubbing at one of her temples to try to stave off the headache she felt coming on. Jesus Christ, what was with all the cunty attitude today?

Tommy came to sit down in the vacant chair next to Lucy, leaning forward as Polly urged him to go easy on Ada on account of her pregnancy. It wasn’t all that surprising that Polly knew. Even if Ada hadn’t told her yet, Polly always knew when someone was pregnant. 

In fact, the only one left at that table who didn’t know was Arthur, who almost choked on his whiskey at the revelation.   

Polly left not long after that, though not before all but confirming to them that Ben Younger was the father of Ada’s baby. Lucy shared another knowing look with Tommy as he stood and slid into the booth, occupying the spot near the window where Polly had been a moment ago. Lucy shimmied in next to him, the red leather creaking a little under her as she got situated at his side. Arthur poured three glasses of whiskey, passing two of them across the table to her and Tommy.

Lucy sipped quietly at her drink while the brothers examined and discussed the bullet that had been ripped out of Finn’s arm. 

“Let me see,” she held out her hand for the bullet when Arthur asked about the writing on it. She squinted at the tiny characters carved into the metal. “Hm. My Chinese isn’t fantastic, but I think this one just says ‘death.’” She handed it back to Arthur.   

“Angels of Retribution?” he asked Tommy. 

“Yeah,” he kept turning his gaze out the window. Outside, Lucy could hear the sounds of horse’s hooves clomping against the cobbles and children chattering. She inched a little closer to him, until their sides just barely brushed. It was only them and Arthur; no need to try too hard to hide their relationship. 

“No one fucking listens to me,” Tommy lamented softly, leaning back with his head tilted towards the ceiling. Lucy nudged him companionably. 

“I do.”

He shot her a soft look, hand smoothing down the back of her head, leaning forward to kiss her hairline. His unspoken gratitude hummed between them warmly. He gave her a gentle tap on the back to let her know it was time to go after taking the bullet from Arthur and pocketing it. Lucy slipped out of the booth, going to grab her coat and tug it back on, wincing at a slight twinge in her shoulders as she did. 

“See you later, Arthur,” she said in goodbye to the eldest Shelby brother where he was still sat in the booth. Tommy gave him a pat on the shoulder, telling him to let the patrons in the saloon bar come back in if they wanted, and then led the way outside, into the smoke and soot of Small Heath. 

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[vaguely-concerned]

I am so mad about how desperately into pan I am. he was specifically made to fuck me up. they dangled him in front of me like 'hey would you like to see a sad clown trickster with emotional intimacy issues and a heart of, if not gold, then some mysterious alloy with qualities not at all unlike those of gold at the end of the day?' and I went 'boy would I!' and now I'm lost. I'm on my knees he's like if reyes vidal was actually redeemable instead of just a 'release my man he did do all of that but I don't care' situation

[weirdnerdygoat]

Oh look, a younger ford blushing picture...

I... may or may not be making something...

[anonyanonymouse]

🙈

[screw-u-vaanu]

.

[comraderaccoon]

Ok, so went to Target a while back, to check out their Christmas stuff. Went down the ornament aisle and found this guy.

Anxiety

[razshaya]

hot take: the darkling shouldn't be shipped with anyone he's lit er ally maimed !!!!

[ban-joey]

kinda really special to not have to change anything fundamental about myself to be so so happy with someone. like it's good actually that i take forever to text back & sensory issues aren't a problem & he knows without even trying when I'm getting overwhelmed and it doesn't make him mad or anxious, just wants to do what he can to help me feel better. i didn't know i could just be what i am and share my life with such a wonderful person. fellow autists there is hope