#urgh it just irks me

[scroofy-was-here]

"you are very mean to bylers. ily <3"

this is why I don't like (some, I see you nice shippers out there!!) milevens, you love people who are mean over a ship???? 👀

"I try not to be"

*proceeds to call our ideas and theories stupid and be genuinely rude in the other anti-byler posts they've made*

[feyres-divorce-lawyer]

“drugged out of her senses for three months to torment tamlin”

but if i speak 😀

[variousqueerthings]

I mean obviously three black actors leading the most iconic science fiction show of all time would be mind-bogglingly cool, let's point out the obvious first

martha's relationship with the doctor is so complex on multiple levels, in a way I think fifteen would be more able to shoulder and interact than any other doctor post-ten (including ten), because martha has done the carrying, she's seen the Horrors, and fifteen seems like someone who is not so brittle that martha couldn't be allowed to feel some of the things she has undoubtedly pushed down over the years around them, about her own feelings to... well, everything

martha would be be incredibly protective of rose, perhaps even wary of the doctor travelling with someone so young and relatively unscathed by the cruelties of the universe, because to her that risk of The Horrors is such a part of the inevitable story, why would you do that to a kid?

rose, of course, is a very savvy kid, who, being trans, has in fact experienced some of the banal cruelties of life -- perhaps she even chafes a bit at the idea at first that she'd need protection, especially as she's already got a mum who threatens to beat up the parents of transphobic teenagers

this next part of the story generally (from the sounds of things) being about joy and exploration, in a way the baggage of past nu!who couldn't quite allow, is for different reasons exactly what both martha and rose need as story/thematic throughline

also all of that being said, fifteen has that trickstery energy of someone who doesn't always think ramifications and consequences and I think that happy-go-lucky attitude could lead to some great tension between them and martha, especially as it pertains to rose (but in some ways, martha's protection of rose would be a protection she herself didn't have, and there's a realisation of that in there, and arghhhhh the catharsis!!)

the doctor and rose having a continuation of that "favourite niece" concept introduced with fourteen, except of course... fifteen is cool. but also it'd be funny if rose does think of fifteen as filtered through fourteen so fifteen is only selectively cool, and fifteen is so used to being cool, it's devastating when a teenager thinks you're being embarrassing

and martha is also very cool, and cool-headed in a tense situation, and perhaps at first rose has a sort of awestruck you travelled with the doctor and saved the world, and can just sort out any dangerous situation we're in without a problem!

also rose with some residual memories/feelings about martha that just pop up due to the metacrisis fallout perhaps?? she feels like she knows martha already, in some ways

but there's confusion there about where the guns fit in -- after all, rose spends all her time with fourteen + smart kid, she has opinions on guns and it doesn't track at all with what she sees and assumes of martha, and it's not until a genuinely tense and bad situation comes up, where martha perhaps has to take charge in some unpalatable way, that she realises that this came from travelling with the doctor too, and why and how martha is hurt and why she's afraid for her

martha emotionally breaking down scene? comforted by rose and the doctor?

martha seeing travelling with the doctor through rose's eyes? having a sooort of similar arc to nine in the "falls back in love with the universe" kind of way

martha and the doctor frank confrontations and conversations?

martha, rose, and the doctor travelling to nigeria, or rwanda, or ghana, or jamaica (I make these suggestions because I believe ncuti spoke about nigeria as a wish for doctor travels + each of the actors heritage, but doesn't have to be to those places -- the point is, the three of them getting to highlight stories about being black that are added to by their presence in these stories). perhaps stories about people one doesn't really learn about like nana asmaʾu or nanny of the maroons

martha, rose, and the doctor having stories like "rosa" but perhaps in britain, like the history of sarah forbes bonetta, "snakehips" johnson (if they really wanna return to wwii), or youknow a story about windrush! but also stagecoach mary (or a million other stories, there's so much to choose from)

and also -- a little similar to bill but faaar more explicit -- getting to think about race and gender in the future as an aspirational, utopian ideal, but I think more able to also challenge the ways that prejudice can "evolve" or be scifi-setting different (like third doctor episode "the mutants")

(outside of travels, martha and donna meeting again and donna being happy that martha can be there with her daughter)

so much more but like. my vision. it's there. do you see rtd??

do you see my vision????

[image ID: three pictures of Freema Agyeman, Ncuti Gatwa as The Doctor, and Yasmin Finney as Rose Noble]

[ivykim]

QUESTIONABLE THINGS IVY HAS SAID

VIDEO START ▶️

“if cats have nine lives, why do jungwon and jay only have one.”

it was in the middle of Manifesto tour where each of them had their own separate rooms. ivy was going mental and bored out of her mind so she decided to turn on a live.

someone commented about jay and jungwon being adorable cats.

“jungwon and jay are adorable. they’re like newborn kittens.” ivy reads off the comment. she hums.

“that’s true. they’re adorable but something irks me.”

“if cats have nine lives, why do jungwon and jay only have one.” she asks in a genuine and questioning tone.

— philosopher vivi working overtime

“we love a sexy barbeque man.”

there were a series of knocks and ivy singing ‘do you want to build a snowman’ outside of sunghoon’s door. it was late at night so ivy did it softly. after all, they finished their concert like an hour ago.

after jay opens the door, ivy joins the live and waves to the camera. jay and sunghoon went on about how tan jay looks compared to sunghoon.

“you look like a good fried chicken.” ivy says.

“what?”

“we love a sexy barbeque man.” she does those chef kisses. the two boys never understood what was going on in ivy’s head.

— i want whatever drugs she’s on

“you🫵🏻 come over here👇🏻 WRIGHT☝🏻 NAOW😤.”

with jungwon zooming around and having a lot of energy, ivy couldn’t fully focus on reading through the ENGENEs comments.

she was really trying. as she reads, jungwon zoom pasts her trying to find a way to lose his high tension.

“you🫵🏻 come over here👇🏻 WRIGHT☝🏻 NAOW😤.” she tells jungwon in English, sounding like a mother scolding her child. jungwon runs back around and sits next to her like a good boy. they continued their live properly.

— aww mama duck vivi

“WHATS WITH THE SKINNY BAMBOO LOOKING LEGS?? COULDN’T THEY HAVE GIVEN OUR DARK MOON CHARACTERS MEAT??”

when the dark moon WEBTOON came out, ivy was curious about the story so she decided to go ahead and read out loud during the live. as she scrolls through, she notices the characters not having much figure.

“what the-” she looks at the characters and then the live and then back at the characters.

“why are they so skinny?”

— engene: “so we’re not the only ones that think that?”

“definitely but oh my god. someone feed the poor vampires- oh sorry for sooha I meant non-vampire. she’s not a vampire everyone. don’t misunderstand.”

“actually, I have to complain to HYBE. why in the world are they so skinny and where in the hell is my character.”

— engene: “oof ivy popping off💅🏻💅🏻”

“WHATS WITH THE SKINNY BAMBOO LOOKING LEGS?? COULDN’T THEY HAVE GIVEN OUR DARK MOON CHARACTERS MEAT??” the passion as she says so.

— passionate vivi. she protects and attacks🤺

*stares at bird* “he would probably make a good source of protein.”

ivy was busy staring out the window. she was bored. waiting for their turn at Inkigayo for their Sweet Venom recording.

“noona, what are you doing?” jay asks as he comes up behind her with a camera.

“looking out the window.” she lays her head against the window and shuts her eyes a little. “I wanna sleep.”

“same. now would be a good time to sleep, I’m dead tired.” jay says.

her stomach grumbles a little. “urgh, now I’m hungry.” just then, a bird had perched onto the ledge in front of the window.

“god, the things I’d do for some chicken.” jay groans. ivy points to the bird and stares at it.

“he would probably make a good source of protein.”

jay has never whipped his head so fast. it’s almost like he would get a whiplash. “HE WHAT?”

— you know she’s crazy when jay looks at her weird

“crazy? I was crazy once. they locked me in a room, a room with sunghoon, and sunghoon makes me crazy. crazy-”

ivy was busy reading a few comments since she was bored and didn’t exactly know what to show the ENGENEs. she was seriously trying to think of a content she could do to engage the audience.

“mmm, do aeygo?” she deadpans at the camera. “sorry, I’m not an aeygo master. you can ask sunoo.”

that is until she decides to pull one aeygo out of nowhere. she easily gets embarrassed. “okay, okay, no more. I look like a goblin doing aeygo.”

“where is sunghoon?” she reads out loud. “he’s probably at the dorms. he finished his schedule for the day.”

“does sunghoon make you crazy? huh? you mean in what way?”

“in general?” she thinks for a second, “crazy? I was crazy once. they locked me in a room, a room with sunghoon, and sunghoon makes me crazy. crazy-”

ENGENEs were commenting thinking ivy drank soju before doing the live.

— not her following that one meme😭😭

“sometimes in life you just have to life.”

ivy was basically doing her normal thing. reading the live comments and also entertaining ENGENEs.

“do you ever feel like a plastic bag.” she reads off the comment. “yes, everyday. i wanna drift through the wind and i want to start life again.”

“noona, are you drunk.”

“I’d like to know too. Maybe this tea has alcohol inside of it but no, I’m not drunk as far as I know.”

“what do you do when life doesn’t go your way.”

“deep question. I like it.” she sighs, “sometimes in life, you just have to life.” she makes a sad face, wiping her fake tears.

“it’s true, that’s how life works when it doesn’t go your way.”

– oml philosopher vivi strikes again

“even if you don’t succeed, just fail.”

in yet another solo live she did, she had basically gotten viral for making these ‘inspiring’ quotes. multiple people praising her because she can make up this true story-comedy quotes.

“unnie, make more inspiring quotes.” she hums at the comment. “give me something you want me to make a quote out of.”

she skims through the various comments, “ah, mmm. you failed a test? I’m so sorry about that.”

“umm, even if you don’t succeed. just fail. studying isn’t everything. you can always try again!”

– I’m gonna kiss her. she’s so perfect

“I’m a sunbae??? THEY ARE HOW OLD??”

with illit debuting, enhypen was finally a sunbae. they had hoobaes under BELIFT Lab now and so ivy heard about them. the boys were just talking about it during the backstage video.

“we are sunbaes now.” jake says.

“mmm.”

“and they are younger than ni-ki. I believe the average age is about 18.6.” jake continues. Ivy hums again before she processes what jake was truly saying then she practically whips her head over.

“I’m a sunbae??? THEY ARE HOW OLD??” she says in shock.

– the cultural shock ivy experienced.

Ivy: turning 23 this year

Iroha: turning 16 this year

*outro of video plays*

PART 2?

[meshla-cyarika]

Public Menace

Pairing: Commander Fox x gn!reader

Word count: 852

Tags/warnings: none

Summary: Fox suffers the consequences of you being bored while on sick leave.

--------------------------------------------------

"Would you stop with the wriggling?" Fox huffs, looking up from his paperwork for the first time in hours. You shuffle on the couch one more time just to irk him.

You're in his office for some rare downtime and Fox is still forcing himself to concentrate on requisition paperwork for the 104th, claiming that he's falling behind in his work. You've been trying your very hardest to distract him for the past two hours, saying that you want your cyare's company during your sick leave. As much as he loves you, which he has assured you of multiple times, he really has alot of work to be doing.

The wriggling, as Fox has put it, is only 50% on purpose. You were chasing a group of thieves through the Coruscant streets with Thorn, when you had taken a nasty fall while wrestling with a pissed off Devaronian. Looking back on it, you find Thorn stressing and worrying over you rather funny, because both of you know Fox would've killed him if he let you die on his watch.

Initially, Fox was fussing over you so much that it nearly gave you a headache, but after a week he started to mellow out. He knows you can handle yourself and that you've dealt with worse injuries. Jewels, a Coruscant Gaurd medic, had told you that you had just bruised some of your ribs and your shoulders, along with a concussion.

"Oh, I'm sorry, you try getting comfortable on a lump ass couch, while suffering from internal bruises." You shoot him a look and he just rolls his eyes at your words, knowing that you're just winding him up.

"If you find it so uncomfortable, why don't you go back to bed?" He says in a much softer tone.

"And leave you here all alone, without any human interaction for the rest of the day?" You arch a brow and he's quick to distract himself by signing off new plastoid for 25% of the 104th instead of meeting your gaze. You know him too well.

"Besides, I've been working on this report for ages." You continue typing away on your datapad.

"The report can wait, you're on leave." Fox says back.

"So can the requisitions." You remark. "May aswell be in a warm, comfortable bed-"

"There's a blanket in the locker, if you're cold." He interrupts you bluntly and you give him a flat look.

Having nothing left to say, silence settles over the room for a few minutes. The thoughts of that blanket are filling your mind. You had brought it for him during the first couple of weeks you were dating, after noticing his habit of sleeping in his office.

A exasperated sigh leaves your lips and you place your datapad on the couch next to you, before painfully bringing yourself to stand. The winces and occasional "ow, fuck" are only partly exaggerated, as you pull out the fluffy red blanket from his locker.

"Urgh, think I'm dying." You mumble quietly, finding a comfortable position on the couch.

"You finished?" Fox arches a brow at you, amused by your attempt at manipulating him to lay with you.

"Everything hurts." You pout at him, tormenting facade finally slipping. Fox gives you a warm smile, standing from his desk to make the few steps to stand by you.

"You're over doing it, sarad." He brings his hands up to hold either side of your face.

"Hurts." Is all you mumble out and he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. Fox doesn't like seeing you hurt and he knows that you know he doesn't like seeing you hurt because you've gone out of your way to lighten the mood this past week with cheesy jokes.

"Tell me honestly, if I bring my work over here to be with you, are you going to sit still for once?" He tilts your head up to make you meet his eyes. A mischievous smile etches it's way onto your face at his words.

"Of course, I will. What to do you take me for, a public menace?" You arch a brow and he gives you a flat look, before turning away to gather his datapad and documents.

Fox rearranges a few pillows to prop himself up agaisnt, before reclining back agaisnt the armrest. You snuggle up to him with mild discomfort, resting the side of your face agaisnt his chest that's rid of his plastoid for once.

"Love you." You mumble out, eyelids already drooping.

"I gathered." He says back, causing you to pinch him in the side. "Alright! I love you to!" He leans down to place a chaste kiss to the crown of your head.

Five hours later, Stone barges into Fox's office, about to rave on about Hound putting hair dye in his shampoo. What he finds is rather unexpected. So, you finally wore him down, huh? He totally doesn't steal the datapad that's lax in Fox's hold, take a photo of the pair of you blissfully asleep, forward it to Thire, Thorn and Hound, then sets it as Fox's background.

[chihoshisai]

♡ Perona's Diary ♡ ch1

Goth Family (Perona, Zoro, Mihawk)

cw: found family, light-hearted, comedy, fluff, chaos / wc : 2,466K / Other : you are welcome to send requests for this fic ! It is also on ao3 if you prefer reading there I'm having quite some fun writing about these three and i hope you enjoy !

Sober Bet

With dim candles lighting her room, Perona looked down at her journal. She sighed in annoyance, having finally written down the last events of a bet with no winner. A bet she started four days ago on a whim.  

That night at diner, Perona squinted her eyes towards Zoro. Ignoring his table manners, she instead took notice of the unreasonable amount of sake he was consuming. 

It was a regular occurrence during meals, and like many things Mihawk didn’t seem to mind – as his reserve of wine wasn’t a target – alcohol was cheap and quite easy to acquire, unlike his fine imported liquor. It was a normal dinner, really, except a thought crossed Perona’s mind. 

“How do you expect to train properly if you drink that much?” she raised an eyebrow towards Zoro. It had been a few days since the newly arrived housemate’s training began, yet he showed no sign of slowing down on alcohol. 

“That’s none of your business is it?” Zoro lowered his glass just enough to return an annoyed look. 

“Of course it is!” Perona slammed her fists on the table, owning her a look from Mihawk, and giving an apologetic one as an excuse. “If you get hurt because you’re hungover, I’m the one who’ll have to treat you!” Her tone dropped in anger. 

“Then you’re in luck, I never get drunk,” Zoro grinned before gulping the rest of his drink.

It irked Perona, “that’s what all alcoholics say,” she rolled her eyes, taking a bite of her food. “I’m sure you’re incapable of staying sober.” She shrugged. 

“Of course I can!” Zoro placed his glass on the table and stared defiantly at Perona, who sat across her. 

“Oh ?” She grinned back at him, “then let’s say a week. No drinks allowed. Not mixed with juice, or anything else for that matter.” 

“I would never mix my sake with juice!” Zoro said, baffled. It sounded like a blasphemy. 

“Urgh, I don’t care how you like your drinks,” Perona gritted her teeth, “do we have a deal or not?” She extended a hand across the table.

“Yeah,” Zoro promptly accepted the handshake, “you better leave me alone and not complain about my drinking after this.”  

“We’ll see,” she gave him a devilish smile, “in the eventuality you cheat I’ll hit you with my ghosts.” And as a way to further prove her point, she made one of her spirits run through his chest, leaving Zoro completely depressed.

“I’m sorry I can’t make myself more useful,” he whispered. Perona laughed gaudily at the sight, unaware of the second look from Mihawk she caused to come her way.

“Please do refrain from using your powers at the table,” he said in a calm tone.

“Jeez you’re no fun,” she gave him a pout. “You have to help me and make sure this guy doesn’t drink for a week.” 

“Well I guess I can do that much,” Mihawk directed his gaze towards the still sulking swordsman, who kept mumbling incomprehensible things. He grabbed his glass of wine, feeling somewhat bad for the guy, before bringing the tip to his lips. 

“This is gonna be so fun!” Perona said in a sing song high pitched voice. She knew exactly what she had to do.

After dinner, whilst Zoro and Mihawk busied themselves with the dishes, she quickly went unnoticed in the castle’s cellar and emptied it. Well not entirely. Leaving nothing but Mihawk’s wine, she made sure to not even accidentally brush the bottles, knowing damn well the warlord would notice. His wine was off limit. She did not want an earful. 

With discretion, she purposefully hid the bottles in her room. Like that, if Zoro was desperate enough, he’d have to manage to sneak his way in, only to be caught red handed. Perona laughed at the plan she devised, before having an inkling of the swordsman's thoughts and deciding to beat him at his own game.

That night, she stayed awake, carefully listening for any footsteps from the hallway. With faint candlelight illuminating her room, Perona kept herself busy with her Kumacy plush, fighting the urge to sleep, as the time neared 3 am. It wasn’t until then that she finally heard what she stayed awake for. Her prediction had proven correct. 

“Just you wait,” she promptly floated herself to the door and into the hall. Simpletons like him were so easy to predict. 

Without even trying to follow the figure, she knew the destination of the footsteps, as she flew lower and lower down the castle’s stairs to arrive near the cellar. With a grin, Perona kept herself hidden, until the moment Zoro would find his way here. Which in all consideration took a while. In fact, it took so long she began second guessing whether he wasn’t heading somewhere else – to do something like late night practice. But the thoughts got quickly interrupted by the sound of footsteps descending the stairway. She watched Zoro open the door without even bothering to check his surroundings.

“Look at you, so sure of yourself that no one is following” Perona whispered to herself, with a silent laugh. 

Zoro disappeared in the room and Perona waited until he exclaimed in surprise before appearing in the doorframe. 

“There’s no sake?!” Both of Zoro’s eyes and mouth grew. He turned around in alarm, the second he heard the voice behind him.

“That’s right,” Perona had her hands on her waist, visibly proud of herself, “I got rid of it.” 

“You what?” Zoro couldn’t believe what he just heard. 

“No need to thank me for making it easier for you, cheater.” She said that last word with a grave tone. 

“Cheater?” Zoro scoffed, “I was looking for the toilet.” He crossed his arms. 

“Give me a break! The toilet is right next to your room!” Perona pointed a finger at him, feet stomping. “I know you didn’t just end up here by mistake.” 

“Whatever, what have you done with the alcohol?” Zoro gave her an impatient look. Surely she wouldn’t be foolish enough to waste that huge amount of liquor just because of a bet.

“Hmph, it's up in my room,” Perona gave him a satisfied smile, “but I’m not giving it to you even if you beg.” She swiftly floated next to him and teasingly poked his arm. “But if you’re that desperate, you’re free to have a taste of Mihawk’s wine.” She laughed, pointing in the direction of the finely stored bottles.

A shiver ran down Zoro’s back. He too knew. Mihawk’s wine was off limits. He did not want an earful.

“I don’t like wine.” He could swear the bottles looked somewhat ominous. “It’s something fancy people like that Cook like to drink.” For a split second, a slight wave of longing crossed Zoro’s at the mention of one of his crew members. Quick on the uptake, Perona wasted no time to take notice of it, but paid it no mind. 

“Right, and you’re far too distasteful for that,” she teased. 

“Shut up,” Zoro groaned. 

Annoyed, she floated in front of him and planted her finger on his chest, “you’re the one who decided to come down here to steal booze despite making a bet of not drinking any for a week!” She hurled the words at Zoro.  

“All I wanted to do was take one last look–” he began, eyes darting away. 

“Don’t try to play dumb with me!” She pressed her finger against his chest harder. 

Zoro said nothing. It was too humiliating being caught red handed.

“Cheater,” Perona whispered. Seeing as he persisted in saying nothing, she flew to the side and pointed towards the door, “now, go on to sleep. I’ll walk you back”  

“Don’t treat me like some kid,” Zoro said, yet he still walked towards the door per her instruction. 

“Then don’t get lost like one!” She followed behind, still floating. 

Sure of himself, Zoro took the wrong turn as soon as they came up the stairs, resulting in Perona grabbing him by the collar. “I’m tired, so I’ll drag you all the way to your room.” Giving instructions to a pirate with no sense of direction required too much energy. 

“Woah, hey!” Zoro tried to swat her hand away.

“Just bear with it!” She gripped the back of his shirt tighter. “Unless you want me to hit you with my powers!” The usual two or three ghosts who kept her company, loomed over Zoro. 

He gulped, “alright fine.” And with much reluctance he let himself be led to his room. 

“Listen,” Perona stood in front of his door with a warning look, “I’ll turn a blind eye to tonight, but you better not try and drink anything, are we clear?” 

“I get it so just go to sleep already,” Zoro yawned. It wasn’t until she gave him a last look that she left, curls flowing at her back to get her well deserved sleep.

-----

Day 1 — No attempts were made by Zoro whatsoever to try and infiltrate Perona’s room. Neither did he complain throughout meals about the lack of alcohol. His training was the same as ever too. The day went on as usual, leaving Perona to feel like a fool for safeguarding the liquor most of the day. 

Day 2 — Zoro’s normal behavior was probably due to how close his last drink was. At least that’s what Perona told herself, as she floated next to him for most of the day. He was now sober for 24h and yet showed no sign of withdrawal syndromes. Maybe he wasn’t an alcoholic after all. 

Day 3 — Zoro increased the time of his training, which didn’t trouble Mihawk, and still not a single complaint had escaped him. Perona had been waiting for the slightest opportunity to tease him, make his life harder and remind him of the bet he had taken. Yet as she looked at him training harder than the day before, she found her opinion of him getting slightly better. 

Day 4 —  Still nothing. If not for the increasing hours of training. It wasn’t until dinner time that Perona finally found a way to nag at him. 

“You’re staring,” she said matter of factly. Zoro had in fact been staring at Mihawk’s wine glass for a while now. His being filled with the usual tasteless water. He refused when offered juice, saying it would be no good for his body. As if alcohol wasn’t worse. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he turned his gaze back to his plate. Mihawk had raised his eye to look at the scene but remained silent. 

“You poor thing, don’t start wavering now.” She filled the room with her usual hollow laugh.

“Don’t pity me!” Zoro spit back.

Day 5 — Perona sat nearby, as she watched Zoro train for what seemed like the whole day. 

“Doesn’t he have nothing better to do?” she said to herself, “it's like all he does is train. And he’s so serious at it it’s not like I can bother him… or go see the other swordsman, as this one might try something.” She sighed, bored. These past days had truly been dull. 

Mihawk appeared from behind Perona, but she felt too lethargic to even glance in his direction. 

“You here to train him again?” She said emotionlessly. 

Mihawk took a few seconds to reply, “No.” 

“Mmh,” her voice trailed. She had no will to further encourage a conversation. The swing of Zoro’s sword in the wind along with his occasional grunts echoed through the silence. After a brief moment, in which Perona felt her eyelids become heavier, Mihawk made his way towards Zoro, and the latter instinctively stopped all movement. The surprising change of dynamic, grasped Perona’s attention, didn’t you just say you weren’t gonna train him, she thought to herself. 

Being close enough to earshot, Mihawk blandly said, “you’re training too much. That’ll do you more harm than good.”

“Even if I trained for a whole day it still wouldn’t be enough,” Zoro stubbornly replied. 

“Training for a whole day? That’s all you’ve been doing these past few days,” Perona complained, yawning from afar. 

“There is uneasiness in your swings,” Mihawk continued his speech, “All things considered you’ve done well so far.” 

“I don’t like the sound of that,” Zoro sheathed his swords, and looked at Mihawk with uncertainty. 

“But you can’t afford to slow your progress any more than this,” Mihawk gave him an astute look, before turning his back to Zoro, “Wait here, I’ll be back.” And without delay he made his way to the inside of the castle.

“What’s with him?” Zoro asked Perona.

“How should I know? Maybe you’re in trouble?” She shrugged. 

“I haven’t done anything that could make him mad.” Zoro wiped his forehead sweat with the back of his hand. “Not that I’ve ever seen him mad.” He added.

“Me neither.”

They exchanged a look. Has Mihawk ever been mad?

Almost as soon as he left, he returned with a bottle full of sake. Perona jumped to her feet. 

“Where did you get that?!” She exclaimed.

“Sorry, I went and entered your room without asking,” he simply stared at her dumbfounded expression, face still stoic before heading towards Zoro.

He knew. 

Of course he knew!

Perona went and grabbed the warlord's arm, “wait! Zoro’s not supposed to drink! It hasn’t been a week yet!” She tried to pull him away. “Don’t interfere!” 

“Even so, he needs it or his training will be further impacted.” Mihawk made no attempt to push Perona away. He simply continued walking, half dragging the ghost girl who started floating along the way. 

“What?” She frowned, “How are his training and alcohol related?” She refused to let go. 

“That’s the way he copes,” Mihawk simply said. 

Perona raised an eyebrow towards Zoro, “so that’s why you’ve been doing nothing but aimlessly swing your sword?”

“Or what? Was I supposed to walk into your room filled with those ghosts, get run over and make you have a good laugh out of it?” Zoro groaned.

So he knew about the ghosts she set as a trap. Perona’s eyes widened as she wondered when and how he had gotten a look at her room. 

“I’m not giving you a reason to make fun of me,” Zoro added.

“Hmph, if that’s how it is then I’ll find another way” She distanced herself from Mihawk who was finally close enough to give the drink to Zoro. 

“Thanks, for saving me from this woman’s stupid scheme.” He gave a light smirk towards the warlord who nodded in response. 

“It wasn’t stupid! In fact it proved that you’re nothing but a stupid alcoholic!” She fumed, her cutesy voice gone. 

“I already knew that a long time ago,” Zoro said, before drinking.  

Chapter 2

[diangelosdays]

Hi? I want to find your k-pop fanart, and I can't find it anywhere actually. I am a k-pop fan myself. And I have been obsessed with your art since I found some of your works on Pinterest yesterday. Your art style is just, so lovely.

And I also wanted to see your other works too. I don't have ig or twt, I'm not allowed on them. So, like is there anyway I could find your art here on tumblr or pinterest. Because, I really want to, if I could. But, if you're not comfortable with sharing it with me here or have no other way, then it's okay i guess. I'll just keep scrolling on the txt fanart page till I find one your works I think.

And again, I love your art style. It's just so lovely. I really like it. I'm in love with the way you draw and render the faces of characters. It's just. Urgh. you know? I'm. I can't put it into words. It's just so pretty . I.

🤎I love your works so much. You're kind of like an inspiration to me to work on my art too.

this is such a lovely message thank you so so much you've made my day!!! sorry i dont post my kpop fanart on tumblr irk why i never did that? maybe bc i wasnt on tumblr so much when i got into kpop and so i kinda reserve it for my tv show/book fixations even now hhhhh

anyway, you can find some more of my art on my website

or if you search "txt fanart daehwisdays" on pinterest you can find a bunch of my stuff! (i don't actually post on pinterest it just gets reposted there and its close to impossible stopping ppl reposting it there so i gave up fighting it a long time ago lmao)

and if you wanted to see some of the animations i make you can check out my youtube or tiktok

[severalowls]

Fallout TV show stuff, no real spoilers until under the cut.

Alright I think that irked me hardest was extremely front loaded and, going into episode 8 its grown on me a bit despite having elements that still kind of suck, yeah Fallout tv show is a solid like. 3 star experience.

They start doing slightly more novel ideas instead of lifting locations and plot beats directly from the games but it does overwhelmingly feel like Bethesda provided them with like. A list of "Things That Are [in] Fallout [as a brand franchise] [even if they're literally just Locations That Were In Fallout 3]" and they contractually had to hit literally every single one.

Brotherhood of Steel. Vault dweller protagonist. German Shepherd type dog. Referring to that dog as dogmeat. Bitter pre-war ghoul. Enclave. Town made of aircraft parts. Eccentric general store owner. Eccentric doctor. Eccentric radio host. Mr Handy. Cannibals. Vertibird. Bloody Mess. Radroach. Red Rocket. Super Duper Mart. Wasteland cult. The Fallout 2/3 vault dweller outfit. Assaultron. Reclaimation Day. Posed skeletons. [Urgh I guess the franchise has to canonically acknowledge fallout new vegas existed so...] cowboys. Courier. NCR. NCR rangers. Pre war computer chip mcguffin. Etc. Etc. Etc. Genuinely theres something several times a minute to a degree where its a great relief when they come up with Anything new to exist in the world.

Its frankly like they generated a word cloud from the wiki in a way that feels even beyond Star Wars "hey remember this??" tv show writing because it isn't remotely earned. These are things that are only 'iconic' on paper when you're trying to hit Name Recognition and Specific Preexisting Lore instead of Worldbuilding Themes.

Incidentally this is also the vibe of how Bethesda approached the franchise when adapting it from Black Isle's slightly goofy speculative society towns of hats sandbox (I don't buy into FO1/2 being cuttingly political or great satire, I like them but they're not that deep), and like, Bethesda is rife with it to the point of notoriety but its a bit of a trend with "franchise media" in general where its all rehash and little elaboration.

So far the only thing they've been at all coy about has been FEV which is Bethesda's fucking #1 fave thing for no reason so I suspect that's going to be a big gasp end of season twist for one if not several plot threads. Possibly to tease an entire Super Mutant Themed Sequel. Gr8.

Oh and, spoilers:

This is the second time of note that there's been a fan-beloved installment from a decade prior and they poochied it. Vvardenfell died on the way back to its home planet in Skyrim. NCR died on the way back to its home planet in this.

THAT feels like Bethesda being afraid to touch complex political implications and factions, and evolving worlds because they're too fiddly to satisfy everyone, sooo they just explode them off screen for wholly nostalgia based emotional impact and use the fact that they exploded as the central defining point for that group from then on.

[forest-falcon]

Another extract from my WIP.

If I ever get around to finishing it, I'll pop them all in order!

Had fun writing cheesy villain lines.

OC: Lieutenant Tamara Fielding, a firefighter from Fire Chief Cass McCready's fire station.

Content Warning for whump and mild language.

***

"My dear Tanusha."

"Uncle."

"You have no idea how much it irks me to see your talents wasted upon these people."

"On the contrary, I am very much aware, and I relish it!"

The Hood chuckled.

"There's that Kyrano fire I adore!"

"Now, I have been patient. I've allowed you to have your fun..."

"How very generous of you."

"... But whatever your childish preoccupation is with these people; it ends now. You're coming with me."

"No."

"I wasn't asking."

"Good, because we're done talking."

Kayo turned to leave but found herself encircled by mechas.

The security operative smiled and formed her fighting stance.

"Always with the drama!"

"Well, it wouldn't do to make things too easy now, would it?

The Hood gave a nod and the machines advanced, sparking ominously as they approached.

There were too many. Six, maybe seven? One was handful enough.

None of the strategies flitting through her head would prove sufficient for taking them all on.

The sound of boots on rubble, and Lieutenant Fielding suddenly appeared brandishing a metal pole.

"Hey, Dumbass! She said no!"

"How quaint, you brought your little firefighter friend to play?"

The Hood turned to address the Lieutenant.

"My Dear, was that meant to wound me? Because I’ve been called a lot worse by far more powerful adversaries."

Fielding shrugged.

"Figures."

The Hood inspected his fingernails.

"As entertaining as this little interlude has been; I'm ready for the main event. Bring my niece to me. Dispose of the others how you will."

The jet's boosters fired, leaving a heavy cloud of dust in place of where the tyrant had stood moments before.

Kayo spared no time, using the temporary cover to her advantage. Snatching the pole from the Lieutenant, she rammed it through the nearest mecha's circuit board. The machine flailed, toppled, and crushed another in it's wake.

Kayo ran and scaled the felled scorpion. If she could just get to its stinger, they'd stand a fighting chance.

She reached it and began stamping on a coupling to free the weapon. It began to loosen.

Through the dust, a large shadow appeared. The security operative was out of time. A mechanical claw collided with the back of her head and Kayo's world went black.

The mechas advanced towards the unconscious figure, unwittingly presenting the Lieutenant with the option to escape.

For the briefest of moments, the firefighter dithered; wiping a trace of blood from her brow as she pondered the clearing.

A glance behind her confirmed that the IR operative was still out cold.

"Dammit"

Wrenching the pole free from the mecha; she swung it wildly at the remaining robots.

"You can't have her!" She snarled.

The scorpion drones turned, abandoning Kayo and started upon their new path towards the Lieutenant.

"Shit!"

Now, Lieutenant Tamara Fielding, was athletically fit by the average person's standards, but her skills in self-defence were limited to the basic bojutsu moves she had acquired as a teen in after-school club. The metal pole was a world away from the rattan staff she had once used, and the mechas would have likely wiped the floor with her coach.

"Lieutenant, come in?"

"Bit busy with these bots Chief! I have four tracking me now."

"Where's Kayo?"

"Unconscious."

Fielding dodged a lurch from the nearest mecha. Bringing the pole down heavily, the firefighter succeeded in damaging it's right claw. Electricity sparked from the exposed wires and the creature retreated to the back of its pack.

"We're en route to you now. Any injuries?"

"Can't...urgh...tell!" Tamara swiped at two which were splitting forces, herding her back towards a wall.

"Casualty appears...to be...breathing. Took...blow to her...head!"

Tamara suddenly felt cool concrete press against her back.

"We're two minutes from your location now."

Tamara could hear their heavy breathing over Comms. Help was coming.

But the two mechas were now four and had her completely surrounded.

At this point the remaining minutes between her and her rescuers may as well have been days. It didn't matter. It was too late.

Still, if she was going to go down, she would do so fighting. She could buy Kayo time for the others to reach her at least.

With all the strength her exhausted body possessed, she swung out at the mechanical assailants.

Mecha Two caught the pole mid-swing.

"Sorry Chief. Don't think I was quite fast enough today."

A white hot punch to her abdomen stole her breath away.

"Lieutenant Fielding?"

Her knees collided with the unforgiving ground.

"Lieutenant Fielding? Report!"

And her world tipped sideways.

"TAM?"

"SHIT!"

[silvermoon-soliloquy]

Gone by Moonbreak

(Part Four)

Summary: You go mountain hiking in pack territory and overstay your welcome, but before the hungry wolves surrounding you can make their move, a wolf bigger than anything you've ever seen comes to your rescue, scooping you up and taking you back to his den. Will you try and escape? Or will you accept his help and find yourself torn between making your way back home or back into his arms?

cw: this chapter is sfw, but the next parts will and will not be (they will have the proper cws, so you'll know which ones are which)

a/n: this one's slight slow burn, if you're looking for immediate gratification, I have other stories in my masterlist for you

--- --- ---

Your home felt different when you finally reached it. It appeared almost alien as you set down your back to unpack.

Everything was where you left it as you put your things away. The bed was unmade, just how you liked, the couch covered in blankets and pillows.

The bathroom was warm as you showered off the unidentifiable myriad of dirt, grime, and werewolf slobber from your aching body.

You quickly made yourself canned soup for dinner, lacking the strength to do really much else.  You ate in silence as you watched out your window, the living room illuminated only by soft candlelight and the glow of the crescent moon.

When your bed called, you went crawling in, burrowing yourself in the sheets. “Yes, this was home,” you thought.

But even as you sunk into the familiar mattress, something kept irking you, lurking at the corners of your mind, hiding in the dark recesses of your consciousness. Something was wrong, was off, different than you remembered it.

Oh. You saw what it was, now. You no longer felt safe. 

Gone was the feeling of security you had always had in your home, replaces by the ever-looming presence of hungry jaws and itching fangs. The one who saved you came flashing back into your mind.

Why was that one different? Why did they save me and then let me go? You tossed and turned with no clear answer in sight.

“Urgh!” you exclaimed, sitting upright in bed. The debate was killing you. “I don’t care anymore! I’m home! Why am I still thinking about it?!” you grumbled.

You threw off the covers to go pace the kitchen. Maybe a change of scenery and some walking would help you settle your agitated mind.

“Should I do something?” you wondered aloud. No, that’s preposterous, what more could you do? What else, besides staying home and being content with your life, the life you almost lost?

What would you possibly do, get the wolf a present or something? You stopped pacing. Your brain seemed to like the idea.

But what would a werewolf even want as a present?

You sat down at your kitchen table to write down some ideas. A biscuit? No. You crossed off the idea. A collar? Squeaky toy? A new bed? No. No. No.

Why were the only gifts you could think of for dogs? You knew the wolf was also part person, even though werewolves very rarely show humans their other form, but why could you only think of him like your pets?

What was something he’d actually enjoy?

Suddenly, an idea came to your head. You got up from the table and went into your closet, pulling things out and moving others over, until you found exactly what you were looking for.

“Perfect,” you smiled. “I’ll leave tomorrow.”

Part Five

[absurdthirst]

Hi Keri I've noticed lots of people asking your advice so wanted to do the same if you don't mind! I got into fandom recently and want to make a new account (not just a side blog) to keep it entirely separate from my current main. The idea of interacting from an account name that's different to my fandom blog really irks me. Problem is I've amassed sooo many likes for fics and posts that I want to be able to find again so is there an easy way to transfer all this over? What would you recommend?

I ran into that so long ago when I was a baby on Tumblr and didn't realize creating another account on the same email linked the two and you couldn't change who you were interacting as. (You REALLY need to fix that, Bumblr...like for real)

By the time it really bothered me, I would have lost the traction I have in the fandom and reposting fics under a new name and explaining it wasn't someone copying....URGH....it was just too much to think about starting over.

Unfortunately, there is no easy way to go through and relike/reblog everything from your 'old' account. What I would recommend is just spending a few days scrolling you account and you can reblog&like from there so it shows up on your new account. You might find a lot of things that you've completely forgotten about and really enjoy finding it again!

[tetrisfinished]

it's recently occurred to me that i'm an open book.

and that's for 2 reasons. 1 - because i am, in fact, an open book. and 2 - because even when i'm not, i still am.

i know. i sound like a lunatic.

let me explain.

i've always been very open about many things. but simultaneously i've felt like i kept my own stuff to myself too. like my irks and things that annoy me. but here's the thing about those - they show up as plain as if i were saying them out loud to others!

i mean, more often than not it's to the folks that are closest to me - this is obviously no coincidence. they know me best. but that's not the point. the point is - even when i feel like i want to hide or conceal something - i'm no good at it. because people who know me are able to read me just fine.

and that realization has brought about a bit of....je ne sais quoi. i mean, genuinely, i don't know how i feel about that. i'm not able to fake anything without being called out for it! and the only time i'm allowed to continue to fake my way through life is just to up my fake-ness and frankly there is a limit to that.

and...urgh anyway. i really thought of this as a more insightful thought that i was having at the time i was having. but now, sitting here trying to articulate it is making me actually feel like a lunatic.

so that's it. that's all.

good night.

-k

[secretsofthewilde]

Rewatching Lost with A and rating our worsties Jack and John ♡

S1E20 - Do No Harm

My episode thoughts: KATE AND CLAIRE!!!

My flashjack rating: oh god it's the start of his rampant saviour complex 3/10... wait nvmnd him crying during his vows was very sweet 8/10

My current Jack rating: okay he is doing his best. I can't get too angry with his insane attitude because he is under an insane pressure. 6/10 bc I am fairly fine towards him this ep... urgh nvmnd his final lines calling Boone's death a murder irks me - just take a second and breathe my guy! 5.5/10

My John rating: 0/10 he is just a criminal in hiding.

A's flashjack rating: 8.5/10 because I like when he cries and I like that he plays piano. I like that he seems very sweet with his bride-to-be but he doesn't get a full 9 because the start to his vows were fucking crazy.

A's current Jack rating: I'm gonna give him a 9 this episode simply because he was fully in dr mode and he was a little sassy, and I love seeing that. He also worked with sun and I love her. I also love that he gave me suspicions of bisexual Jack this episode. I also love that he is a cry baby.

A's John rating: 2/10 I love a diva that goes on the run

[apollotronica]

sun, gemini, libra, and 11h for the ask game :)

sun - name 5 things you like about yourself

URM okay im mostly very neutral on myself but lets see . 1 im very . Unique . one could say . 2 i like my voice :) ive been told i have a Bright singing voice and ive also been told i sound cis (WHAT) 3 im pretty happy with my art right now and have been for a little bit :) which is why my artstyle hasnt really Changed its just Evolved . 4 i like my hair. i love playing with my hair . its this fucked up mix of wavy and straight rn but its very fun to fidget with . 5 i like my fashion sense because i Do have one i just dont apply it to real life . i like bright baggy clothes n big chunky shoes but i Also like elegant looking things

gemini - do you have a good relationship with your siblings

id like to be closer to my brother because i think we sorta grew apart during the years i lowkey Cannot remember . also i think he was the first person i came out to and i completely forgot i came out to him . anyway we like each other and hes trying to get me to watch jjk

libra - would you like to get married in the future

Urgh. ive been thinking about this for some reason and im like . only able to think about it financially . so itd have to be someone i trust and like enough to Live with . but thinking about being married sorta irks me

11h - describe your friends in 3 words

QUADRUPLE CHICKEN SUICIDE

[sanjidysphoria]

ok yes im a big terry pratchett fan so i read GO whilst working ny way thru all of his books so i was excited for the show but then i saw like photos of it and realised like. oh this isnt just the way i saw the book translated to screen huh and also. something i likwd abt the book was pratchetts narration style etc idk if i trust that to translate to screen so I just refused to watch. and tbh i do not like the idea of a second season it irks me lmao

I GET THAT. i love neil gaimans writing so i also read the book and just urgh. for me it s mostly the fanbase thats just a big no

[brummiereader]

@emotionalcadaver another incredible chapter, hun😍!

I just love when Luca and his mum appear in this story. Not only do you write him so incredibly well. But the dynamic between them has me absolutely giddy.

Luca shook his head. “It’s more likely that it was those savages from the mountains that Shelby has hired to do his dirty work for him.” Arghhhh!! He's such an idiot to not believe his mum! I love it 😈😍! I feel like his obliviousness to the force that Lucy is, stems from the fact that's she's a woman. He can't fathom the idea that she's deadly. What I love most about this whole arc is the fact that it depicts perfectly the opinions men had at the time. And it's true to a degree. There was a certain amount that was expected from a woman in the 1920/30's. And Lucy doesn't fit that mold. But mama Changretta knows, which makes this whole storyline so intriguing. Maybe it's female intuition, I don't know. But she knows that if Luca doesn't listen to her, it'll likely be his own end!

Pity,” he said with a shrug. “But…there are still others in this city with hate in their hearts for the Shelbys that we can use.” eek 😬! The mention of Lizzie just before this, had me doubting her loyalty considering her strained relationship with Lucy. Now you have me wondering if she'll throw them all under the bus 😳.

It made things so confusing, sometimes. Not to mention almost impossible to properly discern how Lizzie really felt about her. Did she genuinely want to be friends, or was she just putting up with her because she had to if she wanted to stay close to Tommy? Did she really hate her, or was it just bitterness and jealousy getting the better of her in the moment? To all of this Lucy, I'm gonna say...she wants your man!! It irks me a little that Tommy is so nonchalant about this whole situation. I swear, men are so blind to the obvious 🤦🏼‍♀️. But we ladies pick up on it straight away! Lucy knows something's off, I just fear what will happen when Lizzie announces the dreaded news. Just how will they deal with that?? Even though their little encounter down by the canal was mutually agreed, I can't help but think that deep down Lucy would feel somewhat betrayed by what's to come 😩.

"Don’t know what you think you need the rest of us for, Tom, when you’ve got this one with her deadshot and new fondness for lopping off heads,” 🤣 i just love Johnny dogs! He tells it how it is 😌🤭.

She leaned her side more firmly into his, hoping that the press of their bodies together would help soothe him a little. He just sighed deeply, reaching out a hand to smooth along the back of her skull, down her spine to rest on the small of her back, encouraging her to lean more heavily into him. Urgh, this whole part was so bloody cute 🥰. I love that even when they're in a stressful situation, they find a moment to reassure the other. Maybe it's just me, but I feel like they only reveal their insecurities and stress to each other. It's honestly so beautiful how at one they are ❤️.

There was something in his eyes…something calculated and almost malicious. It made her stomach heave queasily with anxiety, instincts prickling in alarm. This is one of my fave scenes in the series, the acting by Cillian was phenomenal. Tommy knew something was up. And I think, in that moment he understood Michael's "loyalty" to him. “Like he’s sizing you up.” “Like he’s looking for weak points?” this whole part was so well written it gave me chills! I love how they mirror each others thoughts, but why do I feel like Lucy is taking this more seriously than Tommy 😬? Will this be a " i told you so" moment like I reckon it will be with Lizzie??

“Your mother is dead, Miss. Winters. She died this past winter. I’m sorry.” Aberamas news was heartbreaking. Once again, Tommy and Lucy are tied together by similar tragedies 😞. I fell in love with how he wanted to protect her in that moment. He was so quick to put an end to Aberama revealing anymore. But also, stayed back and let Lucy hear the details when she insisted. Just when Tommy heard the news of Johns death, Lucy was there, Tommy was there with her when she heard the sad news about her mum ❤️.

“When this is all over, we’ll take Sin and Wraith and go out together.” I'm glad this whirlwind chapter ended on a hopeful note, with little charlie and Tommy there comforting her. I think they're already well overdue that horse ride together, and things have only just begun 😳.

Wonderful as always👌! Can't wait to catch up with the next chapter 😍.

Part 21: The Shadow of the Abattoir

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: Lucy begins to worry over the intentions of a member of the family, and receives some sorrowful news.

Word Count: 6,376

Notes: Warnings for depictions of jealousy, minor sexual content, violence, blood, and references to minor character death, depression, and suicide.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 13: Traitor

“He was never the brightest. Or the most competent. But…he was such a good boy,” Audrey Changretta’s fingers clutched at her handkerchief. Just from looking at her, one would not have been able to tell that she had been crying just moments ago. Her eyes were dry, face as hard and as immovable as stone.

Luca rested a hand on his mother’s knee. “I know, Ma. I know. He was.”

He thought of his cousin, running rampant with them down the streets. Playing on the floor in his father’s living room when they were little. Of his wedding day, and how he’d smiled so nervously at Luca while he adjusted Alessio’s suit jacket for him. 

All gone.

They would not even be able to have a proper burial for him. Nor his wife or the two men who’d been guarding them. No open casket would be possible considering that the fucking heads of the deceased had been misplaced. 

His fingers tightened around the toothpick held between them. Fucking Shelby.

“It was her,” his mother said, lips thinning into a straight red slash across her mouth. “That red bitch. Shelby’s little whore. I know it in my bones.”

Luca shook his head. “It’s more likely that it was those savages from the mountains that Shelby has hired to do his dirty work for him.”

His mother shot him a glare. “You aren’t listening to me about her, Luca.”

He took a deep breath, reminding himself to be patient with her. Already she’d had to mourn a husband and a son. And now a nephew. How much more pain and loss would their family be forced to endure before it was enough?  

Deep down, he knew: as much as it took to put Thomas Shelby in the fucking ground.

“Winters is small. I doubt that she has the physical ability to kill and decapitate four fully grown people like that. Besides,” he added when his mother pursed her lips, “she never leaves Shelby’s side.”

“Your refusal to consider her a serious threat will be your downfall, Luca,” his mother warned in a tone of voice that reminded him eerily of being scolded in his childhood.

Luca chuckled to hide his annoyance. “I just find it hard to believe that one little girl could cause so many problems,” he put the toothpick between his teeth. “And if she does, we’ll mow her down like all the rest. I am being meticulous, Mother. You don’t need to worry.” Standing, he shoved his hands into his pockets while he approached the window. “You yourself told me that decapitation was never really part of Winters’s repertoire anyway.”

“She could be changing things up on purpose. As a way to trick you into not considering her a legitimate threat. She’s cunning, that one. Like a fox.”

Luca just hummed to let her know he’d heard her, peering out the window. It was raining again.

“Well, whoever it was, it’ll be taken care of. I promise. Alessio will not go unavenged.”

The clock on the mantle chimed, and he sighed.

“I have to go speak with Matteo,” returning to his mother’s side, he bent to kiss her on the cheek. But before departing from the room, he hesitated.

“There’s someone else. A secretary working for Shelby. Lizzie Stark. I remember Angel mentioning her in his letters. I was wondering if you know of anything that would be useful there. A grievance over Angel’s death that we could use, perhaps…” 

His mother’s face had gone dark. “No,” she said sharply with a bitter scoff. “No, you won’t be getting anything from that harlot. She’s loyal to the Shelbys. Always has been.”

Luca frowned. His impression from Angel’s letters had been that he and the Stark woman had been deeply in love. It had surprised him that she was still working for Shelby at all, after what he and his brothers had done to Angel. He’d hoped that she perhaps was looking for her own chance to take revenge on them. Or maybe was simply trapped into employment for Shelby due to economic reasons. That she could be truly loyal in her heart to him was…disappointing. 

The idea that his brother’s love for her may have been unrequited filled him with both sorrow and rage. As if she could do better than Angel Changretta. Had she misled him on purpose? Lured him into a relationship with her to give the Shelbys an excuse to come after him?

His teeth grinded against the toothpick with his thoughts. For a moment, he considered whether or not it would be worth it to pay the Stark woman a little visit. Probably not, in the larger scheme of things. At least not right now. But maybe after…once all the Shelbys were gone and their domain belonged to him…he and Miss. Stark could have a little chat about the way she’d behaved regarding his little brother. 

“Pity,” he said with a shrug. “But…there are still others in this city with hate in their hearts for the Shelbys that we can use.”

∗ ∗ ∗ 

“Well,” Lucy said, waiting until Mrs. Ross had left the office before speaking, “that may have just been the most obvious set-up for an ambush that I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Tommy made a sound of agreement, index and thumb rubbing together as he watched the door that Mrs. Ross had disappeared through, frowning. “Unless it’s intended to be that obvious.”

She leaned back, the leather in the chair creaking beneath her. “Why would Luca do that? If we all think it’s a set-up for Arthur, everyone will be near Mrs. Ross’s. Unless he were going to try to get the women during that time…”

“Or Michael.”

“Michael has guards.”

Tommy shrugged. “I think that you’ve proved quite soundly that guards can only do so much, love.”

“Mm,” she stifled a small smile. “Fair.” Her head cocked as she watched him, still staring at the door, mind working a mile a minute behind those pretty blue eyes. “What do you want to do?”

He finally turned his gaze to her. “I say we take the bait. See what Luca has in store for us,” he raised an eyebrow. “You think that you would be up for shooting some more people?”

She failed to stifle her smile, rising up out of her seat and stepping around the desk to him, setting her cigarette down in the ashtray. Tommy chuckled when she pushed him back lightly so that she could settle herself on his lap. 

“What do you think?” she asked with a cheeky grin, curling her arms around his shoulders. Tommy’s laugh rumbled in his chest, face tiling up to meet her kiss. His strong hands smoothed up her back, rubbing along her shoulder blades.

The door to the office opened suddenly, without even a courtesy knock in warning before it was wrenched harshly ajar. They both jerked apart hastily. While their relationship was no longer a secret as it had been during his marriage to Grace and the first couple of years spent together, they still preferred their privacy when it came to more intimate moments.

But it was just Lizzie, a mountain of papers clutched in her arms. Grateful that it wasn’t a client or someone else less familiar with their relationship, Lucy just shifted herself so that she was sitting across Tommy’s lap with her arm around his shoulders, his hand on her waist. Lizzie took one look at them seated behind his desk together, and scowled. 

“There’s a call for you, Tommy. And these,” she dumped the papers onto his desk unceremoniously, “all need to be signed.”  

Lucy raised an eyebrow at the chillness in Lizzie’s voice, frowning a little to herself. Apparently today was a cold day, as far as Lizzie’s feelings towards her went.

Her heart sank a little at that. And here she was hoping that perhaps they’d finally gotten past moments like these.

It made things so confusing, sometimes. Not to mention almost impossible to properly discern how Lizzie really felt about her. Did she genuinely want to be friends, or was she just putting up with her because she had to if she wanted to stay close to Tommy? Did she really hate her, or was it just bitterness and jealousy getting the better of her in the moment? 

Lucy had never been able to entirely shake the feeling that, if she had it her way, Lizzie would have happily erased her from all existence if given the chance. 

She felt bad for her, really she did. And she had tried to be more mindful of Lizzie’s feelings over the years, making an effort not to flaunt things between her and Tommy too much in front of her. 

But she had really thought, given Lizzie’s behavior and attitude shift towards her over the past year, that maybe she had finally gotten over Tommy. That they could be real friends. That she wouldn’t have to walk on eggshells regarding what she did or said around her for fear that she would unintentionally cause Lizzie to turn sour on her again.     

Apparently not. 

“Right,” Tommy said, picking up his pen and pulling the first paper towards him. “Transfer the call to the phone in here.”

Lizzie nodded, mouth set in a firm line, narrowed eyes fixed hard on them. Lucy shifted uncomfortably, wiggling out of Tommy’s grasp to stand up and move a few paces away from him. She caught him shooting her a puzzled look from the corner of her eye. 

“And call around to the boys, tell them I want to see them all in Charlie’s yard tomorrow morning.”

“Anything else?”

Lucy’s brows flew up at Lizzie’s tone. Even in her worst moods, it was rare for her to talk to him like that. Tommy blinked behind his glasses, looking more taken aback than anything else.

“No. That’s all.”

Lizzie shot Lucy a look that could have curdled milk, spun on her heel, and stomped from the room. 

“What the fuck is her problem?” Tommy asked soon as the door had closed behind her, his expression genuinely baffled. Lucy sighed, fingers finding the familiar pattern of her rings to fumble with. 

“We shouldn’t have taken her to the canal,” she bemoaned. Tommy’s brows pinched. 

“Why not?”

She sighed. For someone so smart, he could be quite daft when it came to things like this. “It must’ve, I don’t know, gotten her hopes up that maybe something was finally going to happen between you two or something.”

“From that?” he sounded incredulous.

“You were being very nice to her.”

“So? That doesn’t mean that I’m in fucking love with her. Besides, you were there too, so how could she think…” 

She shrugged helplessly, and he leaned back in his chair with a long suffering sigh.

“Fucking hell.”

“Who knows what really goes on inside Lizzie’s head.” 

He must have heard something in her voice, because his eyes snapped over to her.

“Hey,” he leaned forward, looping his arm around her hips and pulling her closer, “don’t let her bother you. It’s her problem if she misinterpreted things.”

“I always feel bad for her…” she said softly, even as she rested her hands on him.

“You shouldn’t. It’s not your fault.”

She bit her lip. Sometimes she wasn’t sure if that was entirely true or not.

But before she could say anything more on the subject, the phone on the desk started to ring.

“I’ll get it,” she said, “you work on getting all those signed.”

Tommy loosened his grip on her enough that she could reach over to pluck the phone from its cradle, but she could still sense him watching her carefully, probably sensing the confliction inside her that Lizzie’s behavior had triggered. 

“Thomas Shelby’s office,” she said into the phone professionally. 

“Lucy? It’s May.”

“May! Hi!”

Tommy’s head quirked up with interest at the name. 

“How are you?” Lucy asked, all thought or worry about Lizzie momentarily forgotten.

“Oh, alright. Busy, you know. It’s always hard work when getting familiar with a new horse.”

“Of course. How is she doing?”

“Actually, that’s what I was calling you about. I have a few things that need Tommy’s signature, so I was thinking that perhaps I could pop over to Small Heath sometime and give you both a full report.” 

Excitement bloomed in her chest at the thought of getting to see her friend again. “We’d both love to see you. When were you thinking of coming?”

“I have a few dates in mind. But really whenever works best for you and Tommy. I know how busy you can both get.” 

Tommy nudged her. “Tell her that I’ll send Charlie in a boat to pick her up from the station.”

Her brows rose. “May, can you hang on a second?” she covered the mouthpiece of the phone with her palm. “A boat?”

“Safer than having her come by cab. I don’t trust Changretta not to try to take her hostage should he find out she’s coming.”

“Okayyyy,” she removed her hand from the mouthpiece. “May, how would you feel about coming by boat from the station?”

“Boat?”

“Mhm. Charlie would come pick you up and you’d come in through the canals. It would be safer considering all the…trouble we’ve been dealing with lately.”

“You mean the mafia?”

“How do you know about that?”

“Curly let it slip when I came to pick up the horse. And a boat would be fine, if you think it would be safer.”

“We’ll talk with Charlie and I’ll call you later with the date and where you should go for him to pick you up.”  

“Alright.”

“Talk later.”

“Bye, Lucy.”

She set the phone back into its cradle, a bubble of excitement building in her chest. She had missed May.

“She said yes?” Tommy asked, eyes trained on the paper in front of him, scribbling his signature on the line at the bottom.

“Yeah.”

“Mm,” he looked up at her with dancing eyes. “Good.”

She took a step towards him, rubbing idly at his shoulder while she watched him sign another paper before setting it aside. “Something to look forward to, at least.” She bit her lip. “Maybe…you could book a suite for all of us while she’s here.”

His gaze snapped up to hers, cheeks twitching as he tried to hide a mischievous smile. “Oh? And what sort of things do you think we would do in this suite, hm?”

Her hands slid along the nape of his neck while he encouraged her back into his lap.

“All sorts of things,” she said, voice lowered. 

Tommy purred in deep approval, and brought his lips to hers. 

∗ ∗ ∗ 

Lucy puffed on her cigarette, moving to push her curls more firmly underneath her cap. For not the first time, she cursed her dark red hair for its obviousness, silently wishing that she’d worn a wig to better conceal it. Tommy’s hand shot out to gently take her wrist, lowering her hand from her head.  

“You’re fine. Hardly anyone will be able to see us up here, anyway.”

She drew in a shaky breath, nodding silently and adjusting her grip on the rifle in her hand, peeking out the narrow window they were stationed behind, down to the square where Johnny Dogs was posing as a vendor selling meats. 

She had stood by quietly earlier at Charlie’s yard while Tommy had laid out the plan they’d come up with Arthur after Mrs. Ross’s visit to the office and the delivery of her strange invitation. Charlie had handed her a rifle that she leaned casually against as Tommy gave the other boys their instructions. 

“Don’t know what you think you need the rest of us for, Tom, when you’ve got this one with her deadshot and new fondness for lopping off heads,” Johnny had chuckled, reaching around the ruffle Lucy’s hair fondly. She had rolled her eyes at him affectionately, smiling to herself as all the men laughed. 

Would it be terrible to say that she had missed this? 

Her eyes fixed on the entry points to the square, muscles tensed and prepared to spring into action at the first sign of trouble. She could see Arthur climbing the stairs, heading in the direction of Mrs. Ross’s home. Taking one last long drag from her cigarette, she stubbed it out against the stone windowsill, bouncing once on her toes in preparation. 

Beside her, stress seemed to come off of Tommy in waves, his shoulder so tense where it lightly brushed against hers that Lucy was half worried he would snap like a rubber band. She leaned her side more firmly into his, hoping that the press of their bodies together would help soothe him a little. He just sighed deeply, reaching out a hand to smooth along the back of her skull, down her spine to rest on the small of her back, encouraging her to lean more heavily into him. 

They waited for what felt like an age after Arthur disappeared inside of Mrs. Ross’s home. A few beads of sweat rolled down Lucy’s back, her chest feeling tight with tension. 

They had told their men guarding Michael to be ready. And Polly, Ada, and Linda were all holed up at the betting shop, surrounded by a small army of their men. Just in case this whole thing turned out to be a decoy.

“Car,” she breathed out suddenly, spotting the nose of what looked like a Rolls Royce pulling up in one of the alleys. Tommy spotted it at the same time she did, a high whistle sounding from his lips in warning to their other men positioned around the square. She shifted the rifle in her hands, finger curling over the trigger.

The car idled in the alley, a man stepping out and leaning against one of the car’s doors while he lit a cigarette. Lucy narrowed her eyes, trying to discern if she recognized him or not from any of the photos of Luca’s men they’d acquired. Tommy raised a hand to Johnny and Isiah down below, silently ordering them to hold their fire. 

“Wait,” he breathed out, when she moved to raise her rifle and take aim. She raised an eyebrow, but did as she was told, keeping her rifle lowered.  

Another seemingly massive stretch of time seemed to pass. The man at the car didn’t move; didn’t do anything at all except smoke and stare at the wall.

A young girl suddenly darted out onto the street, a blue handkerchief clutched in her hand. She came to a stop at the mouth of the alley, waved it wildly over her head, and then took off running back the way she’d came. The man leapt back into the car and then it was reversing back, away from the square. Tommy shouted out the order to fire on it, but it was already out of their line of sight from the angle that the window was at. Johnny and Isiah opened up on it with their revolvers, but just based on the looks on their faces, she knew that they hadn’t managed to cause any legitimate damage. 

Beside her, Tommy was shouting to them that it was a decoy, ordering for the car to be brought around. He took her hand firmly, leading her along down the stairs. They took them two at a time, jumping into the car where it pulled up half on the curb.

“Who did you think they went for instead?” she asked, wiping some hair out of her eyes. 

“Michael. I can’t see Luca being dumb enough to try an all out assault on the betting shop with so many of our men working there. Michael’s the most vulnerable.” 

They took off speeding to the hospital, the horn of the car blaring to warn pedestrians and other vehicles out of the way. It was barely parked and shut off before they were piling out and tearing through the hospital’s front doors, footsteps clattering up the stairs, revolvers pulled from coats. 

Tommy pushed through the double doors first, coming to such a sudden halt that Lucy nearly collided with him.

The wall to the side of the door was splattered with fresh blood, dripping like crimson tears down the pristine, white paint. The body of one of their men was slumped on the floor, his head still oozing red in a sluggish river.

She and Tommy shared a look, and then they were rushing to the doors that led into Michael’s room. Arthur blew the lock off, and Tommy shouldered them open, hurrying to where Michael was half slouched against bed. His eyes were wide, face pale as a ghost. 

Tommy was by his side in a second, asking in a voice that was suddenly incredibly paternal what had happened. Lucy swept the corners of the room, fingers flexing on her revolver as she checked for any enemies that may have been hiding to ambush them. There was no one, but the door leading out the back way was hanging ajar. Michael was stuttering something about how the Italians had run away when they heard them coming.  

“Go,” Lucy ordered to Arthur, and he went racing through the door with Johnny. She doubted that they would be able to catch any of them, but it was worth a shot.    

Tommy collapsed into one of the chairs at the table in the center of the room, chest heaving as he caught his breath. Lucy uncocked her revolver and tucked it back into her holster, her own breaths labored from the mad dash from the square to the car and up the stairs. 

Her eyes landed on Michael, and the hairs on the back of her arms stood on end at the look she saw cross his face when he told Tommy that he was fine and unhurt. There was something in his eyes…something calculated and almost malicious. It made her stomach heave queasily with anxiety, instincts prickling in alarm.

There was something that Michael was not telling them. Something important.

Lucy suddenly couldn’t shake the feeling that while there may have been no Italians in the room with them, that did not mean that they were not in the presence of an enemy. 

∗ ∗ ∗ 

She waited as Tommy finished up his phone call to Charlie, arms crossed and finger tapping against her bicep while she waited. The exhale that he let out after hanging up and leaning back in his chair carried with it the weight of the world, stress clear in the frown melding itself to his lips. He sat there for a long moment, just thinking, and then rose to his feet, indicating with a small jerk of his head that he wanted her to follow him. 

Lucy had debated whether or not to tell him about the thing she’d seen in Michael’s face the whole way back from the hospital to the betting shop. A part of her had thought–hoped, was actually the more accurate word–that she was just being paranoid. But the feelings of uneasiness within her had not gotten better since they’d left Michael. It was as if something had shifted. The moment Michael decided not to tell them the thing that was of such importance, everything within him and between him and Tommy had changed. 

“Tommy?” she started carefully. He just grunted in response. “Did you notice anything strange about Michael when we were at the hospital?”

He just sighed, long and exhaustedly. “You noticed that too, eh?”

“It was strange, wasn’t it?”

“Mhm. Yeah, it was.”

She lowered her voice. “I had told Polly not to tell Michael about the plan to offer you up to Luca on a silver platter. Maybe it had something to do with that? Luca might’ve said something while he was in the room with him.” 

Polly had told them that when she made contact with Luca, she had asked him to spare everyone else if she handed over Tommy. To get his focus off of the rest of them for a while. Alleviate the danger somewhat, at least for everyone else. Nervous as it may have made Lucy, it was a risk Tommy was more than willing to take.

“Luca’s clearly decided to take the deal. That’s the only way to explain why Michael’s alive at all. I don’t believe that shit he said about the gun misfiring. We would have heard it.”

“We should have been able to hear them running, had they still been in the room when we made it up there and made and break for it only after we arrived. But I didn’t hear any footsteps at all when we got into the room,” she sighed, pulling a cigarette from her pocket and lighting it. “Maybe…if he’s pieced it together that Polly is the one who made a deal with Luca, he’s just trying to protect her.”

Tommy gave her a look. “Do you really believe that?”

She exhaled again, a plume of smoke flowing from her lips and up into the air around them. “Not really,” she considered whether or not to share the next bit, “I haven’t felt good about him for a while now, Tom. Not since he killed Hughes, actually. I thought…that killing the priest would help him. Like how killing Matthew helped me. But I’m not so sure anymore.”

“Not everyone can be like you, love,” Tommy said gently. 

“There’s this way that he looks at you sometimes, when he thinks you aren’t watching. I don’t like it,” chewing on her bottom lip, she watched the black smoke rise up from the factories around them, suddenly feeling very anxious. “Like he’s sizing you up.”

“Like he’s looking for weak points?”

“Yeah. He’s gotten more ambitious. Maybe…” she shook her head, letting out a breath, rubbing at her eyes. “I don’t know. But I don’t have a good feeling about any of it.”

Tommy hummed, considering as they walked. “We’ll just keep an eye on him for now.”

“Right.” She nodded, and reached out to thread her arms through his. She asked him if they could stop for some food, and by the time they’d eaten, ran some errands, and gotten to Charlie’s yard, it was nightfall.

The lantern swung precariously from Tommy’s hand, clutched in the one not interlaced with hers. They found the Golds waiting for them in the stables, and she left Tommy to the business of paying them for the men they’d killed while she cooed over a few of the horses currently being housed there. 

“Oi! I got four all on my own earlier!” she bristled a little, looking over her shoulder when Aberama suggested that, considering the lack of casualties inflicted by them today, that they’d been spending too much time pushing paper. Tommy just grumbled, pointing out that Aberama and his men had also allowed Luca to get away, even if they had managed to take out two of his men.

She made a movement to follow him when he snatched up his lantern and headed for the door, but froze at Aberama’s voice suddenly calling out to her. 

“Miss. Winters! Before you go, there’s something that I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Aberama called, and she and Tommy both hesitated. Her memory, of Aberama trying to tell her something at the last family meeting before she’d stormed off to kill Alessio, was promptly jogged. Jesus, with everything else going on, she’d completely forgotten that there was something he had wanted to say to her. “You remember our discussion at the house, earlier, I mentioned knowing your aunt and cousins?”

Something cold washed over her. “Yes.”

Aberama nodded, removing his hat and straightening his back, looking her squarely in the eye. “The last time that I spoke with Miri, it was but a few months ago. She said that your mother had been traveling with them since about 1920 or so.”

That sounded about right. Her mother had left their family home in London at around that time to rejoin the caravans. After telling Lucy that she thought it best that they never saw each other again. 

Aberama looked for a moment like he did not entirely know what to say, lips parting, an expression of what she realized after a moment was compassion crossing his face. “Your mother is dead, Miss. Winters. She died this past winter. I’m sorry.”

Her brows pinched, for a moment not entirely understanding. Her legs swayed slightly underneath her, suddenly feeling greatly unsteady. The world felt like it had fallen entirely away, and all she could see was her mother’s face. Her mother who, for all of her flaws and shortcomings, Lucy had never been able to entirely bring herself to resent. Mum had tried, after all. And there had been moments when she was successful in protecting Lucy from her father’s abuse and fanaticism. Her mother had been a kind person with a big heart. And when Lucy was young, everyone had always told her how much she was like her mother had been when she was that age. 

Mum had been what she would have become, had her father been successful in his attempts to force her into marriage with Matthew Sutton. A broken, abused woman, all fight and spunk beaten out of her through the years of horror that her husband had inflicted upon her. But she had loved Lucy and her brothers as best as she could. She had done her very best with all of them.  

Lucy let out a small sound, taking a few shaky steps towards the stall where the horses were. Her hand gripped the sturdy wood, using it to keep herself steady. One of the horses–one that belonged to the Golds, she assumed, since she didn’t recognize him–nudged his nose at her. She stroked it absently. 

“Love?” she heard Tommy’s voice distantly, almost as if he were underwater, and then felt his hand tentatively resting on her back.

“How?” she asked hoarsely. 

Aberama hesitated, and she knew from that alone that whatever he was about to tell her would not be easy to hear. 

“Miri said that she was unwell from the moment that she first arrived.”

Lucy frowned. “She always had problems with migraines…”

“Not that kind of unwell.”

She went quiet at that.

“Miri said that the melancholy would come and go. Some days she would be fine. Others, well…” he trailed off. Lucy sniffed, and could feel Tommy’s thumb rubbing circles into her back. Aberama continued. “It started to get worse, and last longer. It happened gradually, you see. And then, one night while the rest of the camp was asleep, Genevieve took a rope and found a tree–”

“That’s enough,” Tommy barked sternly. Lucy shook her head furiously, turning and taking hold of the hand that he’d been resting on her back.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I need to hear it,” her voice came out as a cracked whisper. Tommy looked her over for a moment, and she was touched at the deep worry in his eyes, squeezing his fingers in gratefulness. She looked back at Aberama. He met her gaze steadily.

“They found her hanging from a branch in the morning. They burned her and her vardo. As she wanted.”

Sniffling, Lucy wiped furiously at her eyes, not wanting to be seen crying in front of strangers. 

Could they really still be considered strangers, though? After what Aberama had just told her?

“Thank you for telling me, Aberama,” she said. 

He nodded, fingers playing with each other. “I thought you ought to know.”

Wiping a clammy hand across her forehead, she blinked hard, barely keeping the bulk of her tears back. “Tommy, will you take me home?” 

He was there in an instant, arm wrapping comfortingly around her shoulders, steering her towards the exit with a gentle “come on.” She let him shepherd her along, pressing in closer to his side, suddenly feeling very cold and alone. 

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Tommy said, voice deep and soft in the otherwise dark of night. She latched onto him like a child would a security blanket, suddenly terrified that if she let him go, she would slip away and be lost in the dark for good. 

He had to leave the lantern in the yard, and when they stepped onto the cobblestones without it, she was reminded horribly of her dream with the darkness rushing up to consume both her and Grace in one great swallow, the blackness washing everything away. But Tommy’s grip remained firm around her, guiding her through the dark with his warm touch and the soft murmurs of his voice. 

She didn’t start properly crying until they’d turned onto Watery Lane. Tommy ushered her quickly down the remainder of the street and finally into the house, and the moment that the door was closed and the lock latched into place, he was pulling her into his arms. 

He rubbed her back and stroked her hair gingerly while she cried. Not big heaving sobs but soft, spasming little whimpers, hugging him tight around the middle while her face buried in his chest. 

Her mother had killed herself. Had been so miserable and depressed that she hadn’t wanted to live anymore. Not even amongst the caravans and kin that she had always spoken so longingly of.  

Lucy had not wanted her mother to leave. She had wanted her to stay. Wanted to look after her. For her to get to know Tommy. The thought of how she would have no doubt doted over Charlie had another wave of tears springing forth into her eyes.

She’d let her go. Why had she done that? She could have forced her to stay. Could have insisted. But she’d let her go. And now her mother was dead.  

“Lucy?” Tommy asked tentatively once her tears had ebbed to just quiet sniffles, pulling back just enough so that he could see her face. 

“I shouldn’t have let her leave, Tommy.”

“Hey, no. None of that, now. This isn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known,” at her unconvinced shrug, he took her by the shoulders, pulling back to look her sternly in the eye. “All you’ve heard is a greatly abridged version of what happened. There’s probably a whole lot of details that Aberama doesn’t even know about. And besides,” he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “You couldn’t have forced her to stay. She made the choice to leave. And what happened after is not on you. All right?”

She closed her eyes, nodding weakly, forcing herself to listen to him. Trying to believe what he was saying. 

“Come here,” he pulled her back into him, giving her a fierce hug that greatly helped to stifle the grief raging in her heart. 

“I didn’t expect it to affect me this much,” she mused after a couple minutes. “I mean…I’d more or less thought of her as already dead anyway…”

“Sometimes thinking and knowing are two drastically different things.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I suppose that’s true.”  

“Lucy?” a soft voice asked from the doorway, and they both started. Charlie was standing there on the threshold that led from the front sitting room into the kitchen, dressed in his pajamas and rubbing at his eyes.

“Charlie, mate, what are you doing up?” Tommy asked.

“I heard noises,” he took a step towards them, big blue eyes focused on Lucy. “Why are you crying?”

She hastily wiped at her eyes, managing a trembling smile. “I just got some sad news, honey. That’s all.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. Everything’s fine,” she gave Tommy’s elbow a small squeeze. “Your dad’s taking good care of me.”

Tommy gave her a small smile, pecking her on the forehead. Charlie shuffled closer, until he was right in front of her, and then wrapped his little arms around her waist, hugging her almost as ferociously as his father had been a moment ago. 

“Don’t be sad, Lucy.”

Tears of a different variety pricked at her eyes. “Thank you, kiddo,” she said, stroking the soft blonde hair on his head. He craned his head up to look at her. 

“Do you want my stuffed horse? Squeezing him always makes me feel better when I’m sad…”

She chuckled, ruffling affectionately at his hair. “No, that’s okay, Charlie. You can give him a few extra squeezes for me, okay?”

“Okay!”

Tommy smiled down at his boy, touching his shoulder lightly. “Let’s get you back in bed, eh?”

“But I’m not tired!”

“Mm, but Daddy and Lucy are. It’s past our bedtime,” he scooped Charlie up, lifting him onto his hip. “Which means it is wayyy past time you were in bed.”

Charlie pouted, but seemed content to be carried back upstairs. Lucy followed her boys with a small smile into Charlie’s room, Tommy depositing the boy gently onto the mattress, letting him get situated, horse squeezed against his chest and head snuggled into the pillow, before pulling the blankets up around him.

“Goodnight, my boy,” he said, smoothing a hand across Charlie’s brow. 

“Goodnight, Daddy.”

Lucy felt her heart squeeze, trading places with Tommy to kiss Charlie’s forehead. “Sweet dreams, Charlie.”

“Goodnight, Lucy,” he mumbled, the yawn he released greatly undercutting his previous claims of not being tired.

She switched off the light and joined Tommy in the hall, closing the door gently behind her and following him to their bedroom next door. The moment they were inside, he inched in closer to her, wrapping his arms around her so she could rest her head on his chest once more. 

“What a fucking day.”

She hummed in agreement, turning her face to kiss the underside of his jaw. “I’m starting to miss home.”

“Arrow House?”

She nodded. “Mostly riding around the grounds with the horses. Camping out in the woods by the house…”

“When this is all over, we’ll take Sin and Wraith and go out together.”

“I’d like that.”

He kissed the top of her head, and they remained there, just holding each other, for a long, long time.  

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