#im awake enough to think about birds and nothing else

[sinistersundown]

i truly don’t actually care about this, but pride lands donald should’ve been a knob-billed duck

[rodeo-boots]

Hi there! Im not sure if I've requested from you before have I?

So I was wondering if I could have a one-shot Sadie/F!ChubbyReader? Something sweet that gets steamy.

I was thinking that it could be the readers having a rough time because she thinks she's unworthy of love and the fact that she's into women makes it even harder.

Take your time, no need to rush~

Feel free to message me if you cant/won't do this I understand Xx

You hadn't requested from me before, btw. BUT I really loved writing this one for you! I hope it's what you've been looking for <3 (I also hope there are no more errors left, I only proofread this once)

Rating: Explicit

Words: 2679

Warnings: NSFW, Low Self-Esteem Reader (Body-Image issues)

AO3

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It was one of the rare occasions when camp was quiet, most gang-members fast asleep as darkness spread over Clemens Point.

You had missed the silence, already used to the rambunctious songs, to the laughter and chatter of the others. Even if those good times never were to last.

These days, it was hard to achieve happiness, to feel even remotely safe, your travels East having shaken the entire group to the core.

And sometimes, you wished you had stayed in the West, had bought land and settled down like you've planned, even if that might not have changed a thing.

When it was quiet, like now, your mind often wandered, drifted along with the sounds of rippling water.

It was nice here, better than it had been up at Colter, but you still felt out of place. And no amount of fresh air or crisp water could change that.

With a sigh, you leaned further against the log behind you, your arms crossed in front of your chest where you sat.

At least in the darkness, no one had to stare at you. Had to see you.

You could just be, with no obligations to be appealing to anyone at all.

Never before had Dutch sent you out to distract any targets, to use your good looks on unsuspecting fools like the other women at camp often did. Because you had none. Or so you told yourself.

Of course it was harsh, of course you had other things to offer. But with a couple pounds too many, with chub around your cheeks and your hips, you didn't feel as attractive as you wished you would be.

You envied Abigail, Mary-Beth, Karen, Tilly... if not for their appearance then for their confidence. And Sadie? Sometimes you wished you could walk a day in her shoes, that you could stop caring about what other people thought and put on some pants.

Though you feared you'd only get stared at more like that.

Time went by without you noticing. Maybe you've nodded off somewhere down the line, the sight of the water gleaming beneath the moonlight oddly tranquil and soothing to you.

Your thoughts continued to roam, continued to shift and flow like the water in front of you.

Occasionally, you'd see a fish jump out of the lake, would hear a nocturnal bird taking flight within the nearby trees. And you yearned to be free like them; free of judgment, of society's standards, and your own low self-esteem.

You wondered if they perceived beauty like humans did, if they stared down at the two-legged, wingless creatures, saw long and flowing hair idly whipping in the breeze, or a freckled face and bright eyes and fell in love.

It would be a loss if they didn't, if they were unable to see what you did – and you decided that maybe, being a human might not be all that bad.

Sure, all you could do was behold the beauty around you. You knew you would never get a chance of something more; knew you couldn't compliment the way Sadie's yellow blouse flattered her figure and receive more than a simple "thank you".

It had always been like that – you, finding beauty in another woman, finding beauty in her voice, the sparkle in her eyes and the way she strutted and sauntered along the way. You knew you couldn't change that, knew that you would never be 'normal', but hell, you didn't want to be. If there even was such a thing as normal.

In the past, and even up to the current day, you've struggled with it. With your sexuality.

You had come to terms with it, of course, but you knew that you only stood out more with your chosen way of life. If your body wasn't enough to keep people away, your orientation might just be, and it worried you, what the others might think should you ever come out to them.

It hadn't been your intention to grow upset, your brain doing it to yourself no matter what you tried to do about it.

So you sat and stared out onto the lake, gaze blank as you simply beheld the beauty all around. Watching, and doing nothing, as always.

The sound of boots upon sand drew you out of your thoughts, your head turning to see a familiar figure approaching.

She was tall, slim, her hair braided beneath her hat. A few strands hung loose, though that only held it's special charm.

"What're you doin' out here?" Sadie asked, sitting down on the fallen tree behind you. She kept a bit of a polite distance, crossing her legs as her elbows rested upon her propped up knee.

You swallowed softly, looked back ahead and out onto the wide lake. "Just thinking," you explained, unable to come up with anything else that might explain you being restless and awake at this time of day.

The other woman hummed, her own gaze trailing over the water in front of her.

It appeared black in the dark of night, only little light reflexes showing the movement of the soft waves.

"Did someone say somethin' again?"

Her sudden words brought you back to reality, the silence between you having stretched for a couple minutes before. It wasn't rare that the less pleasant people at camp upset you over your insecurities, pointed out facets of yourself that didn't need to be addressed.

You shook your head, anyhow. Today, that hadn't been the case. Besides, you never knew Sadie paid any attention to the treatment you received. "It's me," you mumbled after a moment of consideration. "Me who made me feel like crap."

And while you huffed at the words you spoke, they were genuine. Oftentimes, it was you who made your life harder than it had to be.

Sadie pushed herself off the log, plopped down into the slightly moist sand by your side. You watched her from the corners of your eyes, unsure what she was intending to do.

But she didn't do anything, merely sat with you and stared out into the water, thinking about what you had said before.

"I did that a lot," she eventually spoke up, turning to face you. "Guess it ain't the same, but I– sat and thought a lot, too. That never seemed to help." She chuckled, but the sound was rather mirthless, her tone more serious than anything.

You had seen her in the past, had seen her sitting outside of camp, far from anyone else. She's had a broken heart to nurse, had a terrible loss to get over, and in the end she had come out stronger than ever.

"You don't gotta tell me, if you don't want. Maybe it'd make you feel better, though."

Inhaling, you thought about her words, wondered if you would even be able to put your innermost thoughts and feelings into words.

Never before had someone asked you to share them, no one ever having as much of an interest in you as that.

"It's nothing," you tried to deflect, tried to invalidate your troubles in order to not burden Sadie with them here and now.

The woman snorted, however, raised a brow as she looked at you. "Don't look like nothin' to me," she pointed out, not impolitely.

"How about this–" she sat up, her back against the log as she gestured for you to come closer, to lean back against her chest.

For a moment you could only stare in disbelief, though you took the chance now that it was offered to you. It had been a while since you've last been physically close to anyone, after all.

"Comfortable?" Sadie asked. You gave her a nod, your heart racing in your chest and beating within your ears.

Holy Shit. That hadn't been how you'd imagined this night would go.

Sadie wrapped her arms around you loosely, rested her chin atop your head. She seemed content herself, seemed like she had wanted to do that for a long while. The thought made your heart skip a beat.

"I know you think you're worse than you are," Sadie spoke up again, keeping her voice low while speaking to you. It was oddly soothing, her usual rough tone sounding more than just pleasant to your ears. "But you ain't bad. Truth be told, I admire you."

That made you pause, your breath catching in the back of your throat. "Me? For what?"

She chuckled kindly, brushing through your hair to tuck a few strands behind your ear. "For knowin' who you are, and what you want. For stayin' true to yourself no matter what anyone says."

Yet again, you hadn't expected her to be all that perceptive, hadn't expected her to know much about you at all. For as long as you've known her, your conversations had been brief, cut short by your occasional shyness and nervosity. Sadie seemed to have read you better than you ever could've thought.

"I..." you weren't sure what to say, or if you should say anything at all. The woman's arms around you were soothing, almost soporific, though the warmth pooling within you made it hard to consider dozing off.

"I always wanted t'know more about you," Sadie continued, nuzzling the top of your head, her lips brushing over your strands of hair. "Wanted to know more 'bout the beautiful woman who's stolen my heart."

You were sure this had to be a dream, that you had passed out after all and your mind was playing tricks on you by now.

But Sadie felt as real as could be, her hot breath in the nape of your neck, her arms around your waist, thighs left and right of your hips. Whatever you had thought of before, all your insecurities and doubts, it all seemed far away by now.

"Me– Me, too," you brought out, confessing to your feelings without directly doing so. Sadie was more bold and confident than you were, was more brave and straight-forward in your eyes. And just like she had said before, you admired her just as well. But most importantly, you were sure you loved her.

Feeling enlivened by her words, empowered by the warmth swelling within your heart, you turned around, straddled her lap and properly looked her in the face. "I think I love you," you properly confessed, cupping her freckled cheeks like you've wished to do for so long already.

She smiled up at you, keeping her hands on your waist for now as she leaned in, and captured your lips with her own.

The kiss didn't last as long as you've wanted it to, but upon pulling away, Sadie spoke up again; "I know I love you." Her smile grew, your forehead resting on hers when you returned the gesture.

Once your lips had met the first time, you couldn't stop yourself from going in for a second kiss. Your eyes fluttered shut, fingertips gliding along Sadie's sides and down to the hem of her shirt. Now that you knew of her feelings towards you, and were fully certain as those within yourself, you only wanted more.

She reacted in kind, teased your tongue with hers when her lips parted ever so slightly, a moan slipping into the kiss. You weren't sure if it had come from you or her, but that didn't matter much, not when your hands soon met bare skin, fingers gripping her sides while her own ran along your thighs.

"You wanna do this right here?" She asked, leaning back a little to capture your stare.

Slightly out of breath, you nodded. Hell, you didn't care where you'd do this, as long as you could feel her skin on yours.

Without missing a beat, Sadie worked on helping you out of your dress, glancing back, only to make sure camp was as quiet as it had been before.

Even if a few drunkards were still milling about, you couldn't care less, your fingers working on her buttons to relieve her off her top layer, before climbing off her lap to get her pants off her hips.

Naked, you laid back in the sand, invited her to follow you only for her lips to meet yours again. She placed her hat on top of your head, gave you a small smirk as her lips wandered lower, over your collarbone and down to your chest.

Moving boldly, her mouth latched onto one nipple right away, one hand kneading the other breast while she suckled and licked your sensitive bud.

Your breath hitched, spine curving to get closer to her heavenly mouth, your head already swimming without her having done too much just yet.

Soon enough, she had stimulated your other nipple to full hardness as well, laying down on her side next to you, and pulling you in for another kiss. "Let's keep this quiet," she muttered, her fingeres wandering once again until they reached your sex, a hum leaving her lips when she discovered the hot wetness there.

She caressed your folds, encouraged you to hitch one leg up and around her hip while coating her fingers within your slick. Slowly, her fingers circled your clit, made your hips jerk sporadically and your muscles tense here and there.

"Can I?" You had only pulled away from the kiss for a second, glancing at her while your fingers slid down her flat stomach.

"Be my guest," she grumbled, trailing lovebites along your collarbone and up to your shoulder, the small motions of her fingers on your clit steadily driving you insane.

To offer her the same kind of pleasure, your hand soon found the spot between her legs, met with an equal wetness as that between your own. You groaned, teasingly gliding your fingers through her folds before your thumb focused solely on her nub.

She gasped, almost sounding surprised, like she hadn't been touched there in a while, though that only spurred you on more. You wanted her to feel as good as possible, pulling away after another few moments only to propose another idea.

"I wanna taste you," you muttered, fingers disappearing from her soaked cunt as you laid back. Seemingly catching on right away, Sadie climbed on top, straddling your face while hers was right in front of your own crotch.

With the new position, you dove in without a moment's hesitation, held onto her hips and pulled her close as your tongue licked through her folds and up to her nub.

She moaned out, had to have bitten down on her lip to keep more sounds from surfacing before she leaned down herself, and focused on your clit right away.

Besides the sounds of your actions, the occasional slurping, squelching and your labored breaths, it was still mostly quiet, the area belonging solely to you in this moment.

You rolled your hips upwards, chased more of the heavenly feeling of her mouth on you as you felt yourself getting close.

Clearly, Sadie wasn't all that far, either, her abdominal muscles flexing while her thighs tried to squeeze your head, the motions of her tongue growing more desperate the closer she got to her climax.

It was over much too quickly, had been too long for you to hold back at all, your body tensing for a moment before releasing in a rush of endorphins that was better than anything you've had before.

You pulled back for air, slipped two fingers into Sadie's tight cunt to grant her a satisfying release as well, and watched, when she shook and trembled through her very own orgasm.

She rolled off of you after a moment, cursing under her breath as she did so.

It wasn't long before she crawled back up to you, however, before her lips met yours and you could taste yourselves upon each other's tongue.

"You fancy a midnight swim?" She asked when she pulled away, sitting back on her knees and helping you up when you agreed.

[dulceackles]

How much salt can ants handle / Victoria De angelis

Requested: no 

summary: as the night sets y/n finds herself suffering with anxiety. However, she gets a call from victoria who takes her on an adventure beautiful enough to ease her racing mind and a broken heart.

Pairing: Victoria De Angelis x reader (she/her, third person)

word count: 1.7k

content and warnings: angst, tw anxiety

In a dim light the room looked heavy. Like the walls might stumble and the sealing might fall. In a dim light of her bedroom, y/n felt her mind touch the rye needle. The art of taking things easy was something y/n had never learned. In her mind, she didn’t know where the world ended or who loved her. A lot of the time what she knew was only the crooked feeling of her own skin tightening around her like a rigid corset or her breathing getting stuck in her throat. And so t was that night too. 

She couldn’t tell what were the big things so she made the big out of them all. And the future full of big things made itself terrifying to a small human. Y/n got up from her bed. She had been trying to sleep thoughts away but what didn’t come as a surprise, head full of disasters was hard to sleep with. The cold floor felt piercing underneath her bare feet. Slowly she walked to the old sofa sitting in the back of  her living room. 

Sometimes she made a list in her head of all the bad things that could happen. And after that, if she was ever ready, she made a list of all the bad ways she could react to the bad things happening. A lot of the time it felt like the birds didn’t arrive at the glow of spring or like the sky never cleared. She knew most of her fears were irrational, stupid as someone would say. Still, everything stopped them from going away. She wished that maybe when she was older it’d get easier but more than that she feared they never would. 

Corset, that was her skin was. Then what sounded like a firework in the silence, her phone rang. She looked at her phone screen with her tired eyes. It was Victoria. A million bad things could have happened for her to call y/n at night, atleast that’s what y/n thought but as she answered the phone, she heard Victoria’s warming voice. 

"Hi," her voice was energetic like it wasn't midnight at all. "I hope I didn't wake you up."

Victoria knew y/n ralely slept at those hours. Many times they had been texting at two o'clock in night, wishing time would stop and night would last little longer. And y/n loved that about her, that like the sky was for mountains she was always there for her. Over the last year that she had known her she had grown feelings towards her she was too afraid to admit outload.

"Oh no, i was awake." Y/n muttered to the phone her voice still slightly shaking and she wished Victoria wouldn't notice. She wasn't feeling great but Victoria defendly had snapped her out of her own stormy mind.

"I can't sleep, I think I took a little too long nap at 5 pm but I also heard there's a blood moon tonight," Victoria explained herself from the other side of the line. "So wanna come to watch it with me? To the swing?"

The swing was the place Victoria had showed y/n the first time they ever met. They'd been drunk at friends' party and the story had taken elsewhere and so the two girls had found each other on this forgotten field with only the threes and one old swing.

"a blood moon?" Y/n asked.

"Yeah. Thought i'd be pretty cool." Y/n could only imagine the expression Victoria had on her face. Sometimes she got really excited over spontanious things and y/n never wanted to be the one to ruin it.

"Sure let's go." Y/n said to the phone. She was pretty happy about getting outside the dark apartment she had been rotting in for the past few days and feeling all the emotions she didn't want to feel.

"Good cus im already at your door." Victoria laughed.

“What?” Y/n trots to the window on her left and as she looks down to the apartment front, she indeed sees the light-haired girl with a big smile on her face under the street lights.

Y/n chuckles a little bit, "alright, I'll come down in a sec."

There was only one store in the whole tinpot sleeping town that was open during the night and even though it meant a little longer walk, the girls were certain the moon could not be watched without a family-sized pack of chips.

The greenish-yellow drugstore light flickered over them as they searched the stacks from those one specific brand of cheap flavored chips they had grown found over mainly because it was what they always bought when they were together and it was night. It had become this unwritten rule that where there was night, food, Victoria and y/n, the food was these chips.

“I swear to God if they don't have them.” Victoria already blustered until both of their eyes snatched into the orange pack with pretentious font over it.

"There!" Both of them yelped at the same time causing the tired-looking cashier to glared at them like he was about to kick them out simply because the girls were too awake for him to have them in his store at that time of the night but then again, he hated drunk party people more than he hated night owls.

Victoria and y/n grabbed the chip back and ran to the cash register like there was only one second left. And how could have they known but as the chip back flowted on the black assembly line, y/n felt as if maybe there was.

" thank you!" Victoria thanked the cashier as she grabbed y/n's hand and began to hasten out of the store.

Victoria's shoft hand felt electric on y/n skin. Sometimes it almost slipped from her mouth that she wished Victoria's hand would never leave hers or more so that no stranger's hand would ever find Victoria's. But of course over anything she wished as an endlessly burning sun that one day Victoria would hold someone's hand that maybe was stranger to her but a lover to Victoria. Sometimes she wish it could have been her but something behind her eat whispered to her that prehaps she was the worst thing Victoria had ever gotten attached to and that's why it never slipped from her month.

The moon indeed was red that night. Hanging in the sky it shimmered the earth with its red cast. The dirt underneath their toes rustled as they finally reached the swing.

"Take a swing, I'll see how many chips you can catch." Victoria said as she opened the chip back and prepared herself to aim at y/n's month.

Y/n giggled. She maybe had played the game last time in elementary school but she also remembered being good at it.

Y/n pushes herself into the swing and launched herself forward, trying to get into the best speed possible.

The rough old rope felt foul against y/n palms as she holds onto the swing and Victoria tried to throw chips at her but quite frankly, in the dark y/n couldn't tell at all where the chips were flying at.

"This was harder than I remembered." Y/n laught as victoria waved her hands.

"Did you catch any?" Victoria giggled. They both knew this was dumb but it was the best part of it.

"No I mean one hit my face and that was the closest one" y/n stopped the swing from swinging.

"Damn. Well, the ants gonna have a diner party tonight then." Victoria walked closer to y/n and sat on her lap to the swing. A lot of the times they just came to the swing to sit and talk and because there was only one swing, they quite often also tested the ability and streight of the old ropes holding the swing on the tree.

"Not sure how much salt the ants can handle tho." Y/n said as she wrapped her arms around Victoria.

"Me either, maybe not at all." Victoria said as she watched the moon over them. "It is red indeed." Victoria signed.

"Yeah, it is." Y/n could smell the sweet smell of her soft hair. She wanted to lean her head against her neck but resisted because what she thought was prevailed to exposing the truth that she thought she was hiding.

"You know what else was red? Your eyes when you came down the stairs." Victoria got up and turned to face her. "So what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Vic." Y/n let her cold hands fall to her lap.

"I also know when you lie." Victoria crossed her arms, eyeing y/n who still sat on the squeaky swing.

Y/n just stared right back of her. She didn't really know what to say or how to express what was wrong. In a way, she hoped she'd understand or that she'd know how she felt when everything felt big and the sky was falling. But she also feared she was a blue burden and so she didn't know what to say.

Victoria signed. It spiked y/n's heart because she didn't want to make her frustrated or angry with her, she just didn't know what to say and she didn't feel brave enough either.

But what came to y/n as an suprise, Victoria leaned little bit forward and pressed her warm lips againgst her fraught onces. Victoria's lips felt soft against hers and her tongue slowly traced her lips. It was tender sweet and y/n heart race and blush rose as she tasted Victoria. Y/n lifted her hands to gently pull her closer and Victoria slightly smiled into the kiss of how into it y/n was getting.

Soon Victoria pulled away, leaving y/n swollen lips. She looked up to her and Victoria gently run her thumb over y/n's lips before sitting back into her lap and wrapping y/n's arms back around her.

"When you feel like talking just tell me." She said as she watched the moon that was just as red as was her heart. "I truly believe you'd feel better if you sometimes talked to someone."

Y/n nobbed, and then she wrapped her arms tighter around her snuggled her head into her neck.

[saltynsassy31]

(Asks are open so feel free to ask about my au or anything else or request fanfiction)

@just-here-toread finally I'm able to get to your request iakdka sorry it took so long

I'm not really good at writing depressed characters or how to comfort them i don't think but I hope you like it anyways ^^

(Side note, I headcanon for swatch to use they/he pronounce)

It was a quiet night

Swatch slept in his room and Spamton slept on the couch infront of their bed

But Spamton couldn't sleep, he would twist and turn but nothing. He couldn't sleep, not with the haunting memories that resurfaced into the front of his mind

The cold sweat from his forehead and the tears that steadily streamed down his cheeks got his pillow all wet and dirty

He glanced over at Swatch who was peacefully sleeping in his bed, he looked so beautiful when they slept, in everthing he did actually

Why did he take him in? He's such a mess, a rat from the garbage can that no one wanted, essentially trash

Yet this person saw something in him enough to take him in and treat him well, even when he was quicked out of the palace, they still went to give him proper food, they still went to check on him and eventually led to them taking him back inside even at the risk of his job

Maybe it was true, one man's trash is another's treasure

They deserved so much more than he could give, if only he could get better faster so that they didn't need to be burden by taking care of him

That's when he heard that familiar ringing play in his ears like a musical, a chilling pattern of hitting bells

He sat up clutching his chest as his breathing became louder, he covered his ears in a failed attempt at blocking out the sound

Strange though, this time it didn't seem to be coming out of his head but rather an outside source

He looked up to see the telephone stuck on the wall next to the door was the one causing the sound

Has he found him? Is he trying to contact him again? To give him his rightful prize, his ultimate body

He did move though, his body was as frozen as ice as his eyes darted from Swatch to the phone, should he respond? He knows Mike isn't any good for him but what if....

Swatch groaned and rolled around to the other side of the bed, reaching for the lamp he turned it on and put on their glasses as they slowly got out of bed

"Who is calling at this early in the morning...." they mumbled to himself as they reached the phone

"Hello?" Their voice was raspy and tired having just woken up

As the other side began to talk Swatch sigh, another mice problem for the swatchlings, great

"Call in Tasque, she is probably more awake than I am"

They talked a bit more before he hung up and turned to head back to his bed but their heart nearly jump out of their chest when he saw Spamton with static eyes sitting ominously on the couch

Right, yeah, they nearly forgot Spamton was sleeping in his room

But the static was.... new, for the 2 weeks he's been staying this was weird, and that ment something considering this was Spamton they were talking about

They slowly walked up to Spamton and carefully sat down next to him to not startle him

"Hey, Spamton are you ok there...?" He said, his voice calm and gentle, he noticed how his face was tear stained and how some still escaped his eyes

Has he been crying all night?

They placed a hand over his and gave it a slight squeeze "Spamton..." they called out as gentle as possible and he finally snapped back,the static completely fading away confusing them completely as to what it was

Spamton looked up at Swatch finally realising they were there "O-OH [[pretty bird]] YOU'RE [[UP AND EARLY] ]" he blushed a bit at what he called Swatch, but it was common by now so they didn't mind "DID I [[WAKE UP]] [[WAKE UP]] YOU?"

Swatch chuckled "no you did not, I just had to answer a call and... I saw you weren't well so I got a bit worried"

"AHAHEHAHAHE IM [[BETTER THAN EVER]] NO NEED TO WORRY ABOUT A [[DIRTY LITTLE WORM]]"

Swatch raised a brow wich made him cower a bit, he knew it was obvious he wasn't ok but he didn't want go bother them so much

"Spamton.." he began, their buttery voice calming him down "if you need to talk I am right here, I'll always be ready to listen to you if you need a shoulder to cry on" they soothed rubbing his knuckles tenderly with his feathers

It made Spamton feel safe

"If you do not mind me asking but... why was your eyes all static?"

Spamton flinched at the questions wich Swatch quickly said "only if you want to, I won't be forcing you to tell me anything you aren't comfortable with"

"The... phone" he said bearly above a whisper

"Pardon, the what?" Swatch said turning to Spamton, not really catching what he said

"The phone... Mike... the ringing was a loud...help me" his eyes began to cloud up again with static

That's when they finally cought on "Oh...Spamton..." they leaned in a bit quietly asking if he wanted a hug wich he quickly leaned in to

They remembered him always being on that phone of his, talking to someone who asked things from him constantly, demanding even, but whenever they tried to pick up the phone he'd only hear garbage noise

"If you don't likenthe ringing then I will change it"

"But-"

"No buts" they hugged him a bit tighter "I invited you to live with me and for as long as you're here I want you to be comfortable and safe, and that's a promise"

"I can't simply... what should I give it in [[full refund guaranteed]]"

Swatch chuckled "nothing"

"Nothing...?"

"Nothing, it's a promise not a deal, I don't expect anything in return, I'm doing this because I want to, because I care about you. All you have to do is to be you"

That was sure an odd concept, being given heaven for the price of nothing, of simply existing

His static faded and he leaned in more into the tight, safe, hug as more tears began to fall

He tried to give the same amout of hugs but he wasn't as strong and as big as them, but that was ok, this was his all and Swatch excepted it the way it was

There is still alot being unsaid, so much pain and hurt and damage to still be unpacked

But that was okay to, they had all the time in the world now and only God knows how patient of a man Swatch is

They'll be there for him when he stumbles and catch him before he falls, he isn't alone anymore

It was still a new concept for him, still odd and he might not truly accept it as true, but Swatch will wait and show him he is worthy of love just as any other living being

It will take time, but it will be worth it

End notes

DONE!

I hope you liked it ^^

Again sorry for the wait and if it's shorter than my other works but I still hope you liked it 😊💕

I haven't written swatchon in a hot minute fkskdka I plan to do it more (in my au as well) so expect that in the near future

Consider leaving a comment if you liked it? Optional but I'd appreciate it if you did :3

[writerofblocks]

*sneaks this in* Bridget/Troy - things you said with no space between us (or) things you didn’t say at all

This was. From a long ass time ago. BUT ITS FINISHED NOW SO IM POSTING IT.

Sleepless in Stilwater

“Three.”

“Hmm?”

Troy held up three fingers. “That’s the third time you’ve yawned in as many minutes. And I’d be okay with that if you weren’t, you know, doin’ seventy on a forty-five mile an hour highway.”

Bridget broke eye contact with the road long enough to give him a sidelong glare that would wither a lesser man. “I’m not the only one doing their best Fast and the Furious impression out there,” she irritably shot back. A sports car rushed past them with an ear splitting squeal that made Troy jump, and she gestured at it. “See?”

Troy sunk back into the leather seat of the [insert car model here], returning her glare with one of his own. “That’s not the point and you know it. The point is I’d rather not end up a red smear on the pavement because my wheel man fell asleep at the goddamn wheel.”

“Oh, is that all I-” Her mouth cracked open into another face-splitting yawn; she barely managed to hide it behind her hand. “-all I am to you? Your wheel man?”

“Four. And don’t give me that crap, you’re the one that called dibs on driving.”

“I only called dibs cause you drive like a grandma on a broken scooter.”

“You mean I drive the speed limit.”

Bridget ignored him. “Besides,” she said, swerving around a semi-truck sharp enough to make him grab at the handle above the passenger window, “I’ve got places to be after this. Julius called me about a-” she let out another yawn. “-about a storage place, said the Rollerz keep their best wheels there.”

A smirk crossed Troy’s face. He waited until Bridget’s attention was on him before he held up five fingers and wiggled them. It was worth it to see the way her eyebrows dropped into a sharp V before she jabbed a finger in his direction. “Don’t you fucking say it.”

“Don’t need to say anything.”

The one finger swiftly flipped upward into giving him the bird as she returned her attention to the highway. “You’re lucky I don’t throw you out on the highway this second,” she growled, though a smile playing at the corners of her lips undercut the hostile tone.

Troy chuckled, then settled back in his seat enough to look out the car window. Stilwater was a shithole on a good day, but the oranges, purples, and blues of sunset colored the world into something more palpable to take in. Light bounced off the towering buildings of Downtown, harsh edges and cold, reflective glass softening under the gentle touch of twilight. But you could only watch buildings whiz by for so long. His gaze, as it so often did in these rare quiet moments, returned to her.

As much as he bitched about it, there was one thing he didn’t mind about Bridget being the go-to driver. It allowed him time to just… take her in. Look openly, without other people seeing and giving him crap for being lovestruck. Without her giving him crap for being lovestruck, because even after the months they’ve been together she still shied away from open affection more often than not. She cuts the sentiment with a joke, or by teasing him, or some combination of both. He doesn’t mind it- he wonders sometimes if he’s a glutton for punishment, given his career path and choice of romantic partner, but he doesn’t mind being so. Not with her around.

So he looks at her. The way her eyelids keep fluttering slightly, only for her to stubbornly hold them back open. The dark circles he’d think were black eyes if they weren’t only on her lower eyelids. She’s tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, jiggling the leg not in charge of the pedals. Any motion to tell her body it isn’t time to sleep yet. He’d make a joke about looking in a mirror if seeing it didn’t bother him so much.

That was the downside of being undercover. You got real good at seeing things people tried to hide. He had to say something. He opened his mouth, and...

“For real, though. You look like shit. Have you slept at all?”

And of course something stupid came out. Miracle of miracles, she scoffed instead of chucking him onto the highway. “Bold move to question my sleeping habits. How many used coffee mugs are on your desk again?”

Troy chose to ignore her words. “Look man, just-” He sighed, running a hand down his face. “-go home. Take a shower or something. Get some food. You need a break, Bridge.”

Bridget’s face was impassive, staring straight forward as she shifted the car into the express lane. “Can’t. Julius-”

Enough of this. “Did he tell you to do it tonight?” he asked, cutting her off before she could restate whatever bullshit task Julius had given her to do on top of everything else he’d piled on her. For fuck’s sake, sometimes it felt like she was carrying the whole gang by herself in between the tasks Julius sent down the pipeline and the duties she’d taken on herself to perform.

The glare she gave him could melt permafrost. “No.”

“Then do it tomorrow when you’re fresh.”

“I’m fresh enough,” she bit out. “You’re worrying way too much-”

The words burst from his chest before he could vet them. “I’m worrying the right goddamned amount for someone watching a person he cares about take way more shit on than she needs to.”

Bridget’s eyes went wide, whatever she’d been about to say dying in her open mouth.

Troy ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know if this is some macho attempt to prove yourself or some shit, but you don’t have to do this. Slow down. Take care of yourself. Just- please.”

She was quiet for several minutes, eyes locked on the road as she slowed to match the speed of traffic. He’d almost given up on getting a response before she spoke again. “I won’t go to the storage place tonight. It’s-” She swallowed. “It’s late. Rollerz’ll be getting the cars out for races by now, there’s bound to be way more hanging around than during the day.”

He knows those justifications. Her saying he’s right without saying it directly. When she spoke again, her voice was careful. “Got anything else going on later?”

Manila folders scattered across a coffee table, a rapidly growing pile of cigarette stubs as he figures out the best way to ruin his friend’s lives-

“Nothing that can’t wait.”

When Bridget had first joined the Saints, Troy had thought her unreadable. It was easier now to read her once he knew what to look for. Her rubbing her thumb against the side of her index finger- something self soothing. Bouncing her leg- buying time to think. The lift of her head to look at him directly- she was searching him, weighing his reaction. “Feel like staying over?”

Always. “If you want me to.”

The tension in Bridget’s shoulders dissipated, and she gave him a small smile. “Of course I do, that’s why I asked,” she replied, punching him in the arm. “Dumbass.”

===

Rain tapped an improv jazz rhythm on the glass of Bridget’s bedroom window, and Troy couldn’t sleep. Blame the cigarettes, the coffee, the crippling anxiety and paranoia. The cause ultimately didn’t matter, the effect was the digital clock on Bridget’s bedside table hit 2AM and he was no closer to falling asleep than he was when he originally lay down. Bridget, though. Bridget had been asleep the moment her head touched the pillow. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a moment of satisfying vindication.

He rolled over, resting a hand on her arm.

It was strange to see Bridget asleep. If Bridget was awake, she was moving- tapping her foot, shifting from side to side. She bounced her heels if a meeting went too long, rattling the table until he placed a hand on her thigh to get her to stop (among… other reasons). If she chose to talk, she talked with her whole body, her hands dancing in the air. Even when she was seated and still, a part of her still seemed to tremble with energy, anticipation and eagerness. Not now, though. Now she laid there, the rise and fall of her chest the only motion. Light drifted through the cracks in the blinds from the streetlight outside her window, resting softly on the freckles on her cheeks.

His hand traveled down her arm, into the dip of her waist, over the swell of her hip bone. Bridget wasn’t a paper-thin waif by any stretch of the imagination, but without the bulk of her sweatshirt to fill out her usual silhouette, she looked… smaller. More vulnerable. Which was ridiculous, he’d seen what she could do with a gun- hell, forget a gun, he’d seen the havoc she created with her fists alone- but somehow. Somehow that veneer was stripped away in the hazy orange light of a half-dead lamppost bulb, and the only thing left was a tired twenty-one year old who needed a hell of a lot more sleep than she was getting.

Christ. She really was twenty-one, wasn’t she? The face she wore around the other Saints made her seem older than that. It was all harsh angles and stony silences, only a twitch of a smile or a slight furrow in her brow betraying the emotions running electric through her veins. The uncertainty there at the beginning had long since suffocated under a rap sheet he hated to tally up in his head. It was a thing with no remorse, and little room for mercy.

And yet that face was forgotten in her sleep. The ever present tension slackened, releasing that hardened shell and letting it fall away in favor of something softer. She denied the existence of that softness, but he knew. He was allowed to know, he realized, warmth settling in his chest at the thought. Of all people, she’d offered that gift to him.

And it’s a gift you’ll lose soon.

The thought cut a sharp line through the haze, frozen against the warmth of the moment. Troy stilled, his hand resting on her waist. Somewhere in between the light on her cheeks and the slow, steady rise and fall of her chest, he’d forgotten what would be waiting for them. That as much as he tried to dodge and delay, the day Chief Monroe decided it was time to pull the plug on the Saints was coming sooner than later- and Bridget, ambitious and unknowing, was only hastening that end.

His sigh was frayed, thin and trailing off into nothing. This relationship was never going to last forever. He’d known that going in, had willingly condemned them both to heartbreak, but it hadn’t mattered then. That future had drowned in the affection in her gaze. The warmth of her laughter. The spark of her lips on his. But now…

Troy cupped Bridget’s cheek, pressing his forehead gently against hers as he closed his eyes. “I’m gonna miss you,” he whispered. He had to say it, just once. Even if she didn’t hear it- since she would never hear it- it needed to escape before it withered under his held tongue. It needed to exist, just for a moment, all his regrets pouring into that simple, weighted phrase.

At some point she’d wake up, either through him gently shaking her or her own merit. Either way she’d grouch at him for not waking her up sooner, blinking blearily at him in a hopelessly endearing way she’d punch him for if he ever mentioned it. She’d whip the covers off of both of them, laughing when he protests. Showers would follow, breakfast of some sort, and time would continue to march forward to that inevitable, heartbreaking point.

But that was a future they didn’t have to face yet. For now, they could stay like this- curling into each other, breath to breath and at peace.

For now, he’d save her a rude awakening.

[wickedscribbles]

Come What May, Chapter Four

Masterlist

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Original Female Character (Second Person Perspective)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: brief description of panic attack -- there is a warning in the body of the chapter as well! Don’t worry. 

Tags: main character has social anxiety, teaching a class with Obi-Wan, sexual tension, lightsaber fights, Obi-Wan continues with the cute pet names, some teacher/student fantasizing, Obi-Wan is still a massive tease, fucking in a supply closet

Word Count: 6.9 K

It's infuriating to know that Obi-Wan is back in the Temple, but that he's too busy to see you. Between Council meetings that drag for hours, more private gatherings with members of the Senate to discuss what the next move in the war should be, and allowing the poor man time to rest, Obi-Wan has been home for more than a week. You've barely caught more than a glimpse of him. Still, it's nice to have him present in your mind.

You know he's still in the Temple every day you wake up to a glowing good morning, love, his happiness to be near you radiating like sunshine even if you haven't had the time to see one another. It’s not safe to talk back and forth, but sometimes if one of you is particularly bored, you’ll trade a few sentences.

Master Yoda is on a roll today. Send help. Starting to think backwards I am.

Pity you I do.

Very funny, petal.

Then he’d be gone again, fading out before anyone got suspicious. The sudden absence hurts, but not as much as having him gone from the Temple entirely. At least here, you can feel him. You know he's safe.

In contrast to Obi-Wan's breakneck schedule, you've had almost nothing to do. It's full-on spring on Coruscant now, the warmth driving cold and flu season away. You have no colicky little ones in the creche to fuss over, no sick Padawans. The most you might see are some old Masters who need their aching bones tended to, or a quick training accident that needs mended. You haven't shipped out to a war-stricken planet in a while, either. It's strange to have downtime. Strange and frustrating, knowing Obi-Wan is nearby but still not close enough. Having a spare moment between all the illness and injuries is a good thing, and you're grateful. If only you weren't so restless.

-----

It’s rare -- almost impossible -- that you get to take the entire day off, but that’s exactly what you’ve been told to do. The medbay sits empty except for a couple of droids, instructed to deep clean while there are no patients. Even Master Allie appears to be taking it easy; her Force is calm as she bids you goodbye. She insists that if anyone turns up in need of healing, she and Barriss Offee would be on call to take care of it. You bow to her and leave, excited about what possibilities this could open up.

The first thing you do is check for Obi-Wan. Of course, he’s preoccupied. You duck out after feeling the level of concentration he’s exerting at something-or-other; it’s mixed with frustration and you don’t want to distract him. Like you, he’s getting more and more impatient with how busy the Council has kept him. You try not to let yourself be disappointed; it would be too lucky for both of you to be free at the same time, on the same day. All you can do is hope that you can find the time to be together before he has to leave again.

With your schedule more open than ever, you head to your favorite courtyard. The least you can do is soak up some Coruscanti sunshine. But only a quarter of an hour passes before you’re interrupted by the sound of footsteps on cobblestones, headed fast in your direction. Around the corner, scattering the kiros birds, comes a youngling you recognize. It's Gil Graven, a spitfire of a youngling you see in the medbay far more than others his age. He drives his minders crazy with his recklessness, but he’s a sweetheart. Even if you swear you have him admitted once a month for sprains and cuts.

Even now he trips and topples, would have earned the Halls of Healing their first visitor of the day, if you hadn't righted him with a quick pull of the Force.

"Easy, Gil. Where's the fire?" You smile, watching the kid tug his too-large tunic back onto his shoulder.

"Fire? There's no fire, miss. I was looking for you!"

His eyes go round with confusion, cheeks red from running. You forgot how literal younglings could be.

"I meant -- wait, looking for me? What's wrong? Who's hurt?"

Kriff. You should've known taking a day off would backfire. Something had happened in the fifteen minutes you’d had your butt parked in the grass. You get to your feet, gripping the pouch of emergency bacta on your belt.

"Oh! It's not a healer thing." Gil bounces in place, thinking. "But you're needed in the training halls! And they told me to find you quick!"

"Gil, calm down for a minute, okay?" The training halls? Why on Ryloth were you wanted there? "Who told you?"

He shrugs, unhelpful. “I dunno. I’ve never met ‘im before. But he told me to go get the Knight from the Healing Halls ‘cause no one’s been admitted today, and you’d be able to help him.”

You’re still not sure if this is a healer problem, or a matter of simple confusion. Gil’s got a touch of what healers like to call bouncy brain. Sweet as he is, he talks at lightspeed and can’t seem to concentrate if he isn’t moving. There’s a real possibility that he’s got something mixed up here. Still, it’s not as if you’re doing anything else. The Force must have decided that you need to keep busy.

You decide to see what he’s going on about. “Okay, Gil. Lead the way.”

-----

Lingering outside one of the larger training rooms is Master Ki-Adi-Mundi, who smiles when he spots Gil leading you over by the hand.

“There you are!” He crouches down to greet your youngling escort, clapping him on the shoulder. “Thank you, Gil, I am so glad you found our friend. You may go now.”

Gil bows to him, his Force blooming under the praise. “Yes, Master.” You both watch as he takes off the way he came, speeding back up to a run.

“No running!” You scold after him. He barely slows before he’s out of sight.

Master Ki-Adi-Mundi chuckles. “That one reminds me of our own Anakin Skywalker.”

You nod, seeing the resemblance. Anakin is five years your junior, but he was still notorious when you were Padawans. Always turning up where he shouldn’t have been, Obi-Wan always three steps behind. Nothing’s changed, Obi-Wan often tells you.

“Master,” you say, hearing the low buzz of voices coming from the room you’re standing in front of. “Gil said you needed me? Is someone injured?”

“Hm? Oh! Oh stars, no.” Master Ki-Adi shakes his head, looking sheepish. “But I was rather hoping you’d be able to help me with a little problem I’ve run into.”

“Of course.” Okay, now I'm suspicious.

Ki-Adi tugs the end of his beard. “My squadron is being called out to fight on very short notice, I’m afraid. I was meant to teach today’s lesson, and was lucky enough to find a substitute for myself on short notice. But my instruction partner is leaving as well, and I haven’t yet found them a suitable replacement.”

“O-oh,” you hear yourself squeak.

Karabast. He wants you to teach? Your stomach drops somewhere near your ankles. This is so far from what you were expecting when Gil led you here. You can’t do this. You can’t.

Ki-Adi must feel your panic, because he continues quickly. “Don’t fret, my dear! My substitute is a very capable instructor. Follow his lead, and everything will be fine.” He claps a hand on your shoulder, turning away.

“Thank you again -- and now I really must be off.” And with that, he’s gone, walking at a brisk pace down the corridor.

CW starts here!

You’re so anxious that you feel like you’re about to be sick. You’ve done many things on behalf of the Council, often without knowing what they even were, but this? You can’t do this. There’s too many people. You lean against the doorframe, struggling for breath.

What’s the matter? Obi-Wan’s concern comes rushing in, and you’re grateful you have him to latch onto, to focus on.

Someone's asked a favor of me -- and I don’t think I can do it. You’re gripping your saber hilt too tight, the metal biting into your hand.

Please try to calm down. Find somewhere to sit and meditate, collect yourself --

Your anxiety is affecting him, making his own thoughts race even if he doesn’t know the cause. This sometimes happens. You’ve jolted awake in the middle of the night more than once with nightmares that weren’t your own, or had thoughts that didn’t make sense ‘til you realized they weren’t yours.

I can’t.

Why not?

You don’t reply. You have to go in there. Master Ki-Adi said that he was already late. Remembering your breathing, you focus on a count of four in through your nose, then hold the breath for a count of seven. When you exhale, you count to eight. After repeating the exercise several times, you can think straight. It’s not the more in-depth meditation Obi-Wan would have preferred, but it helps. All you can do is hope that the instructor carries much of the class, as Master Ki-Adi said he would.

When it feels like you’ve released much of your fear and uncertainty to the Force, you open the door and step in.

CW ends here!

Immediately, twenty pairs of curious Padawan eyes move to follow you, and you cringe. They all sit cross-legged on the padded floor. Three of the walls are lined with mirrors, the better for students to see fighting forms and sparring matches from every angle. On a side wall, a flimsi depicting each form of saber combat stretches the length of the room, cut off only by the supply closet where training accessories are stored. You’ve been in this room and its adjacent siblings dozens of times. But all that isn’t as important to you as the instructor, who’s turned to see why the room’s gone quiet.

It’s Obi-Wan.

Standing bare-foot on one of room-length training mats, in the middle of handing out sparring sticks to the class, he freezes when you lock eyes.

Oh, he says, equal parts shock and happiness.

Yeah.

I say this with the greatest respect, darling -- why did Master Ki-Adi send you?

Because the Healing Halls are completely empty. Also to torture me. You grimace, joining him at the front of the room. He nods to you in greeting, as if you aren’t having a mental conversation.

“Knight Courtee. Glad to see you could join us.”

“I apologize, Master. It was short notice for me, as well.” You bow to him.

Is this what you were so worked up about? They’re only Padawans. They don’t bite -- much.

Once the group realizes that you’re the other instructor that Obi-Wan’s been waiting for, the chatter resumes. They stop ogling you. From the looks of the group, they’re all in the late teens, and bubbling over with energy. Right in the middle of Padawan and Knight, but with all the arrogance to think they’re already the latter. Away from their Masters in a group like this, they tend to get far rowdier than they would otherwise. Each has a lightsaber strapped to their belt.

“Run me through the lesson?” you say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Quiet!” Obi-Wan demands over his shoulder, and you jump. The loudest cluster of Padawans instantly falls silent behind you.

Sorry, he thinks at you. I’m starting to see why Ki-Adi jumped on the first ship leaving the system.

“Amina, lose the gum. Did you think I wouldn’t notice? Yes, now. Navo, do I have to move you to the other side of the room? Don’t think I won’t.”

Mumbles of yes, Master, break out before he turns back to you, satisfied. You don’t smile but know he feels your amusement.

“We’ll be running through some more advanced katas,” Obi-Wan says. “Then we’ll break them into pairs and focus on the saber technique of each pair. At the end of the lesson, you and I will give a demonstration on a chosen form. Perhaps more than one, if the class requests it.”

“Doesn’t sound too bad,” you admit, thinking back to your own group Padawan lessons. You’d dreaded the paired sparring sessions, having your own form broken down and scrutinized. In the end, though, it had improved your skills. Being able to do the same for this group would be an honor. This is a big piece of being a Jedi, after all; skills passed down from Master to Knight to Padawan.

“It isn’t. Just don’t let them smell your fear,” he grins. “Let’s get started.”

As noisy as the group is, you can tell they’re genuinely excited to be in a session led by Master Kenobi. And Obi-Wan really knows how to lead the room. While you stand stiffly off to the side, nodding whenever he finishes saying something and hoping you don’t look like an idiot, he uses the space. He explains the lesson to them as he explained it to you, then asks if anyone has any questions.

The girl who’d been caught with gum earlier, Amina, raises her hand. Her other hand is busy twirling her long Padawan braid, like she can’t help but fidget with it. “Um, Master Kenobi, why are we using sparring sticks? We’ve had lightsabers for a while now.”

A murmur of agreement washes through the crowd, and Obi-Wan smirks.

“Good question, Padawan. Everyone, close your eyes and reach through the Force. Do you feel how tumultuous the energy in this room is? How excitable? If any one of you lit your saber in this room, I fear someone would lose a limb. And that’s something that Knight Courtee can’t fix for you. So we play it safe.”

Another hand punctuates the air, from the very front of the crowd. This Padawan seems younger than the rest, with hair that sticks up everywhere and eyes focused only on Obi-Wan. He starts speaking before he can be called on.

“All due respect, Master,” he says, in a way that makes you think that he’s used to sharing unorthodox opinions. The corner of Obi-Wan’s mouth quirks up as he fights a smile, and you feel him think of Anakin.

“Why are we here? We’re fighting a war. Many of us have already seen combat alongside our Masters.” He lowers his eyes to the mat, afraid he’s gone too far. When his fellow Padawans start nodding and whispering, he tugs on the end of his nerf-tail, as if unsure of what to do.

Obi-Wan takes a moment to consider this question, hand going to his beard as it often does when he’s thinking.

“I appreciate your honesty, Caleb. And you’re correct. It might seem...redundant to spend your time here when even now fellow Jedi are fighting real battles.”

He pauses, thinking of how to continue. The Padawans are hanging onto his every word, the room silent. “But that’s why it’s so important to refine your technique when we can spare the time, in a secure environment. It will make you stronger when you face a real opponent. It might even save your life. Does that make sense?”

Wow, you think to yourself. He’d handled that beautifully. Even though Caleb had spoken out of turn, Obi-Wan hadn’t belittled him or made the teen feel bad about what was an honest and important question. He’d taken the time to consider the Padawan’s feelings, and had given him an equally honest answer, not something to pacify him. It takes you back to your own Padawan training, when Obi-Wan had been your instructor.

“Yes, Master,” Caleb ducks his head, looking relieved. “thank you.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes search the room. “Anything else?”

After a pause, another hand goes up, toward the back.

“Millu?” You love that he knows everyone by name. Some Padawans turn around to reveal a burly Mon Calamari boy.

“Yeah.” His bright yellow eyes dart over to you. “Uh, speaking of Knight Courtee. Why are you teaching us? I thought you were just, like, a healer.” There’s no real malice in his tone, more like an off-handed curiosity, but Obi-wan stiffens.

Luckily you think of something to say before he can open his mouth. It wouldn’t look good for him to get upset defending you.

“That’s an excellent question, Millu, thank you.” You shoot him a smile, and you swear his scales darken with a blush.

“Being a Jedi with healing abilities does not mean that you get to neglect other aspects of your training. On the contrary, your connection with the Force must be powerful at all times. Healing will swamp you physically and emotionally, so you must keep both body and mind strong to withstand it.”

Your smile widens. “Of course, if you’re asking if you can best me in a fight, we’ll see how you match up during paired spars. Sound good?”

Laughter breaks out, and Millu blushes even darker before muttering, “Sure,” and looking away. Even if it seemed like he was questioning your ability to teach them (as you yourself are), you’re grateful the interaction’s lightened the mood.

Nicely done, says Obi-Wan.

“Very good,” he says aloud, clapping his hands together. “Now if we’re done heckling Knight Courtee, let’s begin with some stretches, please.”

------

Obi-Wan was right, you think, walking around the room. This...isn’t bad at all. You walk from pair to pair, taking in the angle of their weapon, how they hold their bodies, making minor corrections and leaving comments as you go. They look up when you come by, eager to see what you’re going to say to them. It’s much easier to interact with the Padawans on this smaller scale, and you find yourself joking with them, smiling. After a while, they even start asking for you, looking to see if you can demonstrate a move or if they’re holding the training stick the correct way. They aren’t scary at all -- just excitable kids who want to learn.

I’m sorry, Obi-Wan was what?

Looking up, you see Obi-Wan grinning across the room, demonstrating his own correction. In the middle of all this excitable teen Force energy, it’s easy for you to have a conversation and go unnoticed.

You were right. I like this.

And you’re good at it; they adore you. You’re going to make a wonderful Master. He shows you a brief image of a happy Padawan trailing behind you, eager to follow wherever you lead. It’s the best feeling, love.

Unexpected emotion rises in your chest at his pure sincerity. He knows how insecure you are about the fact that you’ll soon have your own Padawan to look after, but he doesn’t have a single doubt that you can do it. For the first time, you let yourself think of the situation in a hopeful light. It was a path you never pictured for yourself, but one that you know you have to follow. Obi-Wan makes it look so easy. Anakin, and even Anakin’s Padawan Ahsoka, look at him like he hung the stars. Of course, so do you.

“Last twenty minutes!” Obi-Wan calls over the noise of sparring sticks clacking together. “Take a seat, class.”

The Padawans rush to do as they’re told, everyone clamoring for the best spot to view your spar with Master Kenobi. They go completely silent, waiting for you to join him. A hush even falls over the Force energy in the room, like they’re all holding their breath.

Obi-Wan sinks into a bow when you’re opposite him, one hand on his saber. When you glance down in confusion, he sends a wave of amusement.

I said I didn’t trust the Padawans, darling. Not you.

Not sure if that’s wise. You bow in return, unclipping your saber also. He ignites his blade, the blue glow casting light over all the reflections of the mirrors. Taking a deep breath, trusting the familiar feeling of your own weapon, you ignite your lightsaber. The bright green light shimmers over your hands, crackling with your energy.

You’re surprised at how nervous you are. It’s one thing to watch him from across the room, to be taught by him as a Padawan yourself, but to spar with Obi-Wan as an equal? He’s going to wipe the floor with you.

“What form does Knight Courtee use?” You hear somebody whisper.

“Form five -- she told me.”

“Oooh, really? That’ll be fun to see against Master Kenobi.”

“Shhh!”

Obi-Wan waits until the group is quiet again to ask if you’re ready to start. Your saber hums hot in your hand, a little less controlled than you’d like it.

“Ready as I can be, Master.”

“Then let’s begin.”

No sooner are the words out of his mouth than he’s in your space, much closer than you want him with a lightsaber in hand. You strike out instinctively and he expected that, anticipated it. He was baiting you. Your blade bounces off of his far more harshly than you like, the zyoom echoing through the room. You take a step back, try to calculate an opening. He mirrors you, waiting to react. It takes you longer than it should to realize that he’s shielded the bond up tight, not giving anything away. The only thing you can hear is your heartbeat and the crackling of the sabers, each one fueled by its master’s adrenaline.

He keeps his blade held at eye level, and you lunge in for a mid-range attack. Obi-Wan blocks but you keep it coming, getting back into the groove of Djem So after spending so long out of combat. It feels good to have the saber be a part of you, to have it grow lighter as it remembers your touch.

Strike, block, strike, block. You’re working at a breakneck rhythm trying to get through his defenses, but Obi-Wan won’t give an inch. Sweat pours down your temple but still you press, using the Force to try and search for a weak point but finding none. He’s too kriffing fast.

There’s a reason they call him Master of this form. It’s infuriating, the almost lazy way he flicks your lightsaber aside every time, using your energy against you. There’s not a hair out of place on him. Every time you lower your blade, wondering what to do, he simply resets, content to wait again. You can tell from the look in his eyes that he knows you’re getting tired.

The Padawans are anything but quiet now -- some shouting Get her, Master Kenobi! while others insist that you can hold your own. Your eyes flick over to them once. Some lean forward towards the fight as far as they dare, a few are even on their feet in support.

When Obi-Wan finally tips his saber in retaliation, you barely manage to block, caught off guard at the change from defense to offense. He strikes again, again, again -- each blow more brutal than the last, each one so close to your skin that you can feel his blue saber’s sizzling heat. He’s driving you back against the wall. Despite your best effort, you’re losing ground where you’d previously held it. When you feel your back slam against the wall he was driving you toward, you gasp and fumble a block -- your last move. The blade of Obi-Wan’s saber hovers near your throat, a win.

“And that’s your head,” he says easily. You lower your saber and extinguish the blade, holding your hands up in a show of defeat.

The room erupts.

“Master Kenobi, that was so wizard --”

“Knight Courtee was letting him have it! Did you see --?”

“I wish I could have recorded that for the holo!”

“Settle down,” Obi-Wan says, but he’s smiling. “I’m glad that you all have found this lesson so illuminating.” He bows to you, signalling the end of the match, and you follow suit.

“You’re dismissed,” he says to the room. The declaration is met with mixed reactions; half are glad to be free, half don’t want the lesson to be over yet.

“No need to hang around and help tidy this time. You were such a good group that Knight Courtee and I are glad to take care of it.” It’s traditional for students to stick around after the lesson is done and help roll up the training mats, collect the sparring sticks, and clean the room in any other way that needs it.

That statement really gets them out the door, though several of them whine about him being far cooler than their regular teacher and why can't he teach them all the time?

Once everyone’s filed out, Obi-Wan locks the door behind them. He turns to you with a long sigh, relieved that the loudness of all those teenagers in one place has dispersed.

“Well,” you say. “That’s not how I expected my morning to go.”

“I’m glad,” Obi-Wan replies. “I was beginning to think that I wouldn’t see you at all in my time home, yet here we are.”

“Like the Force willed it.”

He beams at that, drawing you tight against him. “C’mere. My bright little instructor.”

You grumble, cheek pressed against his chest. “You flayed me within an inch of my life, Obi-Wan.”

All he does in response to your grumpiness is chuckle, placing warm kisses everywhere he can reach on your face. “Yes. I did.”

“It was embarrassing.”

“I couldn’t exactly go easy on you, could I?”

No, he couldn’t. Everyone knows the extent of Obi-Wan’s skill, and while you aren't untalented with a saber, winning or even overcoming him would be unlikely. You’d fought honestly, and so had he. Anything else would have invoked suspicion.

He takes your silence for the correct answer, then gently pries your cheek from his body.

“Would it help if you got kisses as a consolation prize?” He’s looking at you so fondly, like you’re his favorite thing in the galaxy. You nod, already leaning on your tiptoes to reach.

Obi-Wan hums against your lips, sinking against you like he’s been waiting for this -- because you both have. The kisses stay close-mouthed, but he’s pressing them onto you fast, his hands roaming you urgently. Your bond tells you that he wants to take his time with you, would have each moment stretch out for as long as possible, if he could. He wants to savor you. But arousal is winning out.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, pulling back to brush his nose against yours. “Do you know how much restraint it took not to pin you against the wall and have you, at the end of our fight? To resist sending all the little Padawans away right then?”

You gasp, feeling heat stirring deep in your stomach. The honey-sweetness of his tone contrasts with his words, but he’s just getting started.

“There was such fire in your eyes when we sparred, kitten." Kitten. Yet another pet name to add to your already large collection. This one makes you blush, and you don't miss Obi-Wan's pleased grin. "I had to shut you out so that you wouldn’t get distracted by my, er, distraction.”

His distraction presses up against your leg now, thick and hot. Obi-Wan tugs the end of your braid hard, tilting your head back to expose your neck. You whimper against him, all but letting him hold you up at this point. He loves it -- going to work at once nipping and kissing everywhere he can get to. His breath is heavy on your skin as he ruts against your thigh, trying and failing to bite back his own ecstatic moans.

“We’re alone now,” you choke out, hardly aware enough to string the sentence together. “s-so you can -- do whatever you want with me.”

This makes him pause. “Is that so?” Obi-Wan’s tone is still so light, like you’re having a conversation about what they’re serving in the refectory today, not how badly you want him to fuck you.

“Yes,” you say, embarrassed at how desperate you sound, how easily you melt for him. You can see yourself over his shoulder in the mirrors, and you blush, burying your face.

He laughs a little at your reaction. “What if I want to take you into that supply closet and bend you over?” His hand roams down your body, landing on your crotch. Two fingers rub a strong circle through the material, and you lean into it. “What if I want to take you from behind, make up for all the time we haven’t been together?”

“I’d ask why -- aren’t we already there,” you huff, blinking up at him.

That’s all the answer he needs. In one motion, he grabs you round the middle and hauls you over his shoulder like a sack of meilooruns. Your breath whooshes out, surprise and a lack of air keeping you from forming a sentence as he marches you to the closet as promised. The ground bounces and sways in your vision as you’re jostled -- it’s a strange sensation, being carried. Thankfully, it only lasts a few seconds.

Obi-Wan opens the door and closes it just as quickly once you’re both inside, making you aware of how small, how dark, the space is. You find yourself deposited on the storage bin that the mats are kept in, your legs dangling high in the air. He leans in to kiss you, nothing but hot breath and hungry hands, and you fist your own in the front of his tunic. It spurs him on, and soon his tongue is pressing into your open mouth, exploring every corner.

You moan into him, your fingers going beyond clothes to scratch against his chest. Obi-Wan picks you up again and you lift your legs around his waist, rubbing tight against his cock. He bears your entire weight like it’s nothing, continuing to kiss you as if your legs are planted on the ground. Stars, the strength, the eagerness of him, is overwhelming. His arms are pillars, holding you steady, crossed firm around your back.

"I thought you said," you gasp out, shivering when his tongue flicks out to catch your earlobe, "something about -- bending me over --"

“So eager today,” he says, his voice a tantalizing purr.

“Can you blame me?” you blurt.

"And what does that mean, dearest?"

He already knows what you mean. It’s everywhere in your mind. You can’t hide how you feel when you’ve been this close to him for so long, forbidden to touch him, to even think about it until you’ve reached your breaking point.

Obi-Wan, hands behind his back, patiently watching the Padawans demonstrate their forms. Nodding and sometimes stepping in to correct, placing his hand casually on an arm or leg to shift the balance of their weight. Then the Padawan he’s correcting becomes you, and his touch is no longer innocent. The group is melting away, and his mouth is trailing down your neck, whispering things that have little to do with the kata you’re struggling through.

“Oh,” he chuckles. “I see.”

You bump your head into his shoulder, too embarrassed to answer. As if to reassure you, Obi-Wan sends you an image back.

Both of you in the same training room, but you stand among your fellow Padawans, now all Knights, shuffling anxiously from foot to foot. You don't look that much different from the way you do now, but for the traditional Padawan's hairstyle.

Though you're seeing things from his perspective, the mirrors give him away; Obi-Wan looks younger, too. There are no lines around his eyes here, he holds himself more loosely. Like there isn't a galaxy-wide war. And he's less certain as he flits from student to student, new at this.

"You were always a pleasure to speak to, you know," Obi-Wan tells you, low voice right in your ear. He knows that he's teasing you, knows exactly the effect it's having on your body. You squirm in his tight grip, unable to go anywhere to get away from the softness of his voice.

"Polite and passionate. Made your Master very proud. But…" he trails off, and you shiver, anticipating his next words.

"So anxious whenever you saw me, weren't you?" He muses, fingers flexing on the curve of your ass. "And now I finally understand why."

"Obi-Wan…" you protest, unsure of what you're going to say next but just knowing that you need the teasing to stop. Both mental and physical -- he's hard against your abdomen, almost painful with how tight you're wedged against him.

"Down, love," he says. With effort, you extract your legs from around his waist and plant your feet on the floor, with his hands to guide you. "Turn around."

For a moment, you get excited, thinking that he's done teasing you. Obi-Wan makes quick work of your belt, dropping it to the floor seconds before your pants and underwear. You step out of them, breathing heavily, feeling his chest against your back. There's a clink, and you realize that he's dropped his belt as well, one hand bracing on your shoulder as he fumbles out of his own bottoms.

There's nothing between you now. Obi-Wan's bare dick rubs against your tailbone, leaving a warm dribble of pre-come.

"Now bend forward for me, darling -- that's it --"

You lean on the storage bin, heart thumping a tattoo in your throat. Obi-Wan lines himself up behind you, breath ragged, and sinks inside you in one long push.

"Obi-Wan, oh," you cry out, not expecting how full you'd feel from this angle.

"I know, sweetheart, I know," he says, taking a moment to adjust to the sensation. His mind is a high buzz of pleasure, looking forward to taking you apart in this new, delicious way.

Then he moves. So, so deep and slow. You let out a broken whine, toes curling. He pauses, holds his breath. Then thrusts again, just as unhurried as the first time, and your fingers scrabble for purchase on the smooth material of the bin in front of you.

“Hmm,” Obi-Wan sighs. “Do you know, this reminds me of something.”

You groan, not out of pleasure, but because he’s stopped. How? Where and how did he find the restraint to torment you like this? You’re not sure which part of today’s interaction set him off, but you sorely wish that he’d get down to business and fuck you.

“What does it remind you of?” you ask tightly, figuring that playing along will get you where you want to be faster. As if rewarding you, Obi-Wan’s hands come around to find your breasts, teasing your nipples with the barest of touches. Gods if he doesn’t go faster --

He can hear your mind loud and clear, but says nothing, only sending a feeling of amusement back before answering your question.

"Watching you go through katas in this very room. Or, well, the room outside." Obi-Wan presses into your back, finally starting to push into you in a slow but satiating rhythm.

"Mmm," you manage, pressing your lips together hard to avoid reaching an inappropriate volume.

“Do you remember the criticism I had for you, little Padawan? You were so tense. Why was that?” All the while he’s languidly thrusting into you from behind. As if he expects you to form a coherent response.

“I l-liked you,” you stammer out, bracing yourself on the edge of the storage bin.

"Oh? Well, I liked you too. You were a wonderful student."

"That's not what I --" Thank the Maker that it's pitch black in this closet, because your face is burning.

"But for some reason," he continues, enjoying himself, "you always needed correction in solo practice. The other Masters told me, several times, that that was not an issue in their own lessons."

You can only whimper as he bears into you deeper. He knows exactly what he's doing to you. When you place a hand on your stomach, just above your belly button, you can feel him inside you.

"Tell me, sweetheart. Did you need my hands on your body, as desperately as you do now?"

"Yes, Master," you all but sob. "I need, I n-need --"

"Need me to fuck you?" Obi-Wan supplies, voice going rough and breathy. "Need me to wreck you, the way your mind is screaming for it?"

You slam the palm of your hand on the top of the bin, and it makes a hollow thud, sending pain shooting up your arm.

"Obi-Wan, yes! Please, please fuck me, I need it!" You're aware that your words border on incoherence, but not enough to care.

And he doesn't either.

Just as you've reached your limit, so does Obi-Wan. One of his hands grabs your wrist and pins it, hard, while the other squeezes your hip.

"Are you ready?" He pants in your ear, pausing only to nip at your shoulder blade. Already he's fucking you deeper, so good so thick inside you, that you're writhing under his every touch.

"Wanted to do this -- for s-so long --" Obi-Wan gasps out and so do you, the heat of orgasm reaching a crescendo in your thighs as you feel him come apart in your mind.

"Want to come so deep inside you, darling, oh please, please --"

You know that he's barely hanging on, waiting for your permission.

"Gods, Master, yes --" Like you could deny him this, when you want it so desperately too.

His forehead drops to your shoulder as he rams into you, shoving you against the bin. It takes everything you have not to scream his name when you come, gripping his arm -- the only part of him you can reach from this angle.

Obi-Wan isn't far behind, moaning loud behind you as your orgasm makes your pussy clamp down even tighter on him.

"Yes, yes, oh my Gods --"

The bond flares up sudden and white-hot between you, carrying the sensation of Obi-Wan's pleasure just as it had that night on Odryn.

"Kriff," you say weakly, clutching his arm like it's the only thing connecting you to the planet.

Sweetheart, I'm there, I'm right there

I know, and I'm -- me too --

Again?

Yes

Oh fuck, fuck -- I'm coming, stars, I'm coming, oh --

You come a second time when Obi-Wan starts to spurt inside you, tears spilling from the intensity of it all. With him this tight against your body, you swear you can feel every hot spurt of come shoot up inside you. Obi-Wan's teeth are caught in the material of your tunic, muffling his shout. It feels like you stand there, taking his come for minutes, as he shudders against you.

When it's over you whimper, leaning against his chest on aftershock-weak legs. Slowly, as if his head is one step behind, Obi-Wan puts his arms around you.

"Stars above, Obi-Wan," you mutter, every coherent thought fucked out of your head. Your brain feels like static, but your body's floating. Pulling out and turning you gently to face him again, Obi-Wan plants a line of soft kisses from your forehead to your mouth. His release runs heavy down your thighs, but there's not much you can do about it here.

"Not tense now, are you?" he says, tracing slow, wet circles over your sensitive clit.

You laugh. "You're unbelievable."

"No, I'm committed to a scene," Obi-Wan corrects, as if this was all an elaborate game.

You consider saying something along the lines of, I'm going to commit my boot to your rear end if you don't quit it, but think better of it.

Instead you re-dress, wincing at the mess you'll have to tolerate down your crotch and legs until you can get to the nearest fresher. This is the downfall of spontaneous sex. No easy cleanup.

"Next time, would you like to come with me?" Obi-Wan's asking. You snort, buckling your belt back into place.

"Pretty sure I just did. You didn't notice?"

He pauses, then opens the closet door, letting in a blinding slice of light. Though he's dressed, Obi-Wan looks disheveled and wide-eyed still in a way that you always adore.

"That's...no. That's not what I'm talking about, love," he says, a hint of amusement in his tone.

"I mean, the next time I have to leave. Come with me. I think we've both come to realize that being apart is painful. And that being together isn't just a physical concept anymore."

His voice has dropped to a near-whisper, but you're hanging on to every word. Though you'd never admit it aloud, this is exactly what you want. To follow him instead of lying awake every night, worrying he won't come back from the last distant system he's shipped away to. You want to be beside him, no matter how rough things are.

You are a Jedi, not a housewife. And frankly, being kept in the Temple while he's away risking his neck, the bond blocked for days or weeks at a time, is torture.

Obi-Wan listens to all this, your outpouring of emotion through the bond you never meant to forge with him. He shows his understanding, his respect, his compassion for you, in return.

"Okay. Okay," he says, more to himself than you. "I'll speak to the Council. Knowing them, it may take some time to get an answer, but --"

You cut him off with a kiss. It doesn't matter. As long as you're together.

[jade-of-mourning]

theformat wrote, "im floating with the birds im talking to the weeds look what youve done to me"

in which i spontaneously take several hours to translate nate’s awfully punctuated commentary on dog problems into Comprehensive English Words. partially so i can write my stupid essay on it for fun. but yes here you go, 4.2k words from a 2006 livejournal archive that i managed to snatch out of two saves. here’s a link if you want to read it from the source, but i’ll have you know it’s a nightmare. early 2000′s nate ruess learn how to type properly challenge.

theformat wrote,

[@ 2006-5-18 18:44:00]

"im floating with the birds im talking to the weeds look what youve done to me"

Hi,

Sitting on my couch, watching ESPN. Damn, it’s good to be home. Things have been pretty crazy the last 6 months. As a lot of you know, we were dropped by our label — we went and recorded a new record, labels became interested, [and] we decided to release it ourselves. We went on tour, and now I’m [...] home for the next week: my first week off in six months. What do I do? 

Well, my roommate and I got memberships to the YMCA down the street from our house. It’s an amazing place. Downtown Phoenix is pretty much an amazing place. It’s not like the rest of the state — speaking of which, I’m declaring war on Scottsdale, it’s the opposite of Downtown Phoenix.

Anyways, so I wake up at 9am every morning. I don’t know what it is, really — I’ve been a "pro" musician for about 3 years now, [and] we are supposed to wake up at 11 or 12. I know some dudes that wake up at 1, but no; since I’ve been home the last few days, I’ve been going to bed at 1 and waking up at 9. My roommate has a job, [so] I think it has to do with that. 

See, there are 3 showers total in our house. I have the big bedroom, so I have the big shower, [and] since I’ve been off on tour and recording, he has gotten used to the nice shower in my room (Which is fine — anyone that’s gotten close to me knows I’m not too fond of showers, so it’s not like I use it that much). So every morning around 8:45, I wake up to my door opening and my roommate going through my room to use the shower. 

You know what it’s like when you’re half asleep but you want to act like you’re awake so as not to freak someone out with all the crazy babble, but you just end up saying all the same crazy babble? I do that every morning. I turn and look at him and try to act like I wasn’t just dreaming about tootsie rolls and parrots that shatter like glass. "Hey [Roommate's Name], that was some game last night" [is what usually] comes out of my mouth — something to that extent — and I think he feels sorry for me, but continues to walk right into my bathroom, and use the shower. 

At this point, I’m awake. I usually have to pee, and I have to then use his restroom. It’s a terrible swap, and it always ends with me wide awake on my front porch (har har) smoking a cigarette and wondering how the hell I’m gonna fall back asleep when the air conditioning is broken. Ah, what a wonderful life at home, [but] that’s the weird thing — I love it. Now we wake up and we go to the [YMCA]. We run, we play basketball, we jump in the pool, we play pool basketball, we get yelled at for dunking the ball. We don’t use soap before we go into the sauna, and the night usually ends with a poker tournament. This is the life I love to live when I’m away from the road. It too is the opposite of Scottsdale. It’s who I am, [and] it’s pretty much who I’ve become.

See, for the last 23 years, it’s been about the highs and the lows for me. I’ve got an addictive personality, [so] I stay away from a lot of things because of this; however, when I find things, I get generally excited. I go crazy. It’s all I think about and all I do for the next howeverlong. For the first 23 years, it was either talking non-stop or locking myself in my room. It’s either great or terrible; not good or bad. Dog Problems changed that.

Initially, Dog Problems was supposed to be that — the original concept of Dog Problems was to be 2 sides of music, the first half taking over where Interventions [+ Lullabies] had left off: "We'll be together in the morning…"

We weren’t, in fact. We were over before Interventions was even released. We were over two weeks after it was recorded, [and] I spent the next 2 years feeling terrible. We got back together… we broke up… we got dogs… we broke up… we got back together and got dogs…

I was still miserable, but I wanted Dog Problems to get me through everything. I wanted it to help me, not anyone else — just me. The first side was supposed to be me down in the dumps [and] everything that went down: how the two of us were dealing with it differently, [and] the second half was supposed to be a realization.

The first inkling of realization was a day [when] we were on tour. We were all laughing about something I’m sure Marko or Adam said. Here I was supposed to be depressed, but the fact that I can spend all of my days in different states with my best friends, all of us doing what we love — that was major! Then my mom called… I’ve got my parents! My friends! What else could I possibly need?

At that point, I felt as if a relationship in a Michael Bolton sort of way didn’t mean anything. It was the people you surrounded yourself with — those were the people that made the difference, and that was going to be side two. I was convinced that when I just closed my eyes and thought about the wonderful people around me, I was going to be great. Not good, [but] great.

I didn’t get that far, no. I got back into the relationship. 

I was sure it was going to work. At that point, life would be perfect, and we all want perfection right? [But] things went right back to far from perfect. Things went to terrible. I couldn’t stop feeling sorry for myself, but I had a concept. At that point, I figured that even by singing and recording these positive songs I was going to feel better, so Sam showed me what was then just a short acoustic guitar version of Snails.

This was it. This was my first chance to prove to myself that life can be beautiful. The thing is, I had never been more miserable. I remember writing the lyrics to Snails: my roommate was at work, I was on the bed, on my night stand was a giant bottle of booze, and somewhere off in California she wasn’t calling me back on a Friday night. So I went to work, listened [to it] over and over. I wanted to get it right; I wanted to be positive. I passed out, then I woke up the next morning [with a] big headache (P.S. drinking is not really that cool; it’s cool when you condemn it for the first 22 years of your life, then it becomes not cool, then it becomes ok when you moderate yourself) and I started writing everything positive I could think of. [...] Snails was, in Sam’s mind, supposed to be a 2 minute kid’s song, [but] I wrote so much that there was no going back. I thought that was it — Snails solved all of my problems.

It didn’t get that far either. Nothing could shake the depression, [and] I really started to worry about myself. Here I want to feel great, but I only feel terrible, [and] a few months later it got really really bad. I had to go to my parents house that night, I didn’t want to be at my house. I wanted to feel like a kid.

It’s funny how we always want to be adults when we're younger. We want to drive cars, we want to have girlfriends. I still didn’t consider myself an adult — all I wanted was to come home, be tucked in, know that everything was going to be alright. I woke up the next day [and found out] she met someone new. I’ve got to figure myself out…

In the meantime, we've got 4 songs we are recording over at our friend Aaron’s house (he is an amazing producer and [...] musician, and his house and his roommates have gotten me through a lot of tough times. They’re some of the only people I know who would rather spend their Saturdays getting dinner and watching a movie instead of going to a party. I like that). All of this turmoil in my relationship was going on at the time, and I was trying to write side two [but] I couldn’t. There was more fuel to side one. These songs have to be done, so I wrote about what I knew, and at that point I knew how to feel terrible.

So much for side two. Dog Problems is going to be one giant mess of depression and "look what you’ve done to me".

Atlantic got those four songs, as well as a few others. They were not psyched, to say the least, but some people at the label actually cared about it enough to say "go record". So we were able to pick our producer, we met with a few people, talked to a few more. Things were looking up. Dog Problems was going to happen. 

I remember meeting Steve McDonald at his house — Sam and I were excited to be [there] because we knew his wife Anna would probably be there. Anna was the lead singer/songwriter for a band we used to obsess about called "That Dog", her brother was one of the ten drummers in the world that I actually liked, so Steve couldn't be so bad. And he wanted to produce our record, so he had to be pretty cool! 

He was just that, and more. Sam and I were eating every word that came out of his mouth. He had stories; he was young, hip, energetic, and yet very all knowing. We saw someone that was going to let us do whatever we wanted to do, and in the meantime he was going to make us laugh and make sure we didn't lose our minds. From that point on, I knew there was someone I could always trust. I made a friend pretty quick.

Things were moving forward. Steve McDonald was to be the producer. I hated Los Angeles so there was no way in hell I was going to record there, [so] we decided Palm Springs would be perfect. Weird, but perfect. I had a phone conversation with Steve that night and we were finalizing everything. I was going to call Atlantic in the morning and let them know just how everything was going to work, [but] I didn't get that far.

I was sleeping in a blowup bed at the house when my phone rang. I didn’t wake up and answer like it was my roommate and he was coming into my room to use my shower, [because] this call felt different. Right away, I was awake.

It was our manager: "You’ve been dropped." 

When I heard that, the first thought going through my mind wasn’t "Oh man...how are we going to be famous now and make boat loads of money?" It was more like "fuck...but Dog Problems. We were supposed to go make Dog Problems."

The thing is, Atlantic wasn’t into Dog Problems. They were into whatever it was they thought we were. Never had The First Single made more sense — what was supposed to be a song about getting the band started and doing something with it had actually turned into a song about how stuck we were in the labels eyes because of the song. I was past that; we're proud of something we wrote when we were 19 and 20, but when I think of music, I think of progression. 

I think of all of the wonderful records I had been introduced to when I had nothing to do riding in a van. I think of all of the new influences, all the instruments, all of the "How did they do that?" And I think of how much it gets me through everything.

Music has been the consecutive[ly] great[est] thing in my life. It’s been that one thing, and with Dog Problems, it wasn’t about "I want everyone to sing along because I can write a catchy song." It was about feeling. It was paying tribute to all of the bands that we obsessively listened to. It was for Harry Nilsson and Van Dyke Parks, it was for Jellyfish and XTC. It was our way of saying thanks for making our lives better, whether it be lyrically or musically. It was never about being something, being told something, and sticking to something. It was an adventure, for the artist and for the listener.

[And] they didn't get that. They wanted the old record, the old songs, just with different words and a few different chords here and there. They didn’t care about Snails or Dog problems [or] what it meant to write those songs. They knew it wasn't going to be huge; the guitars were not big enough (if big guitars are your thing that’s fine, it’s just not really our thing right now); it wasn’t going to be competitive, and so they dropped us. And rightfully so: we weren’t going to change, and obviously the major label business is never going to change, [so] now it comes down to who goes down first. And we weren’t ready to go down.

Sam and I had conversations about it, whether the business end of things have been fucking with us so much that we'll never be sane enough to just enjoy it. We thought about getting out — it wasn’t [be]cause we hated each other, or the songs; it was because we hated the business.

Steve called to let us know that he was still onboard, label or not, [and] we let him know we were still on board. We were going to make this record, [and] I was going to feel great! But the record was going to cost something. How could we afford it? 

We were lucky that we had a management company like Nettwerk. Not only are they the most forward-thinking music business people around, [but] they’re also (for the most part) Canadian. Oh, and they care a shit load about the music we make. They could have waited for the ship to sink, but they told us they would pay for the record if need be. Fortunately, we were able to get money for getting dropped — Atlantic actually paid us to leave, so we could afford the recording ourselves. The only stipulation was that it had to be done quicker, and when you want something quick, you have to go to the "right here, right now" capitol of the world: Los Angeles. I was a little irked at the thought at first, then Steve said it was his personal goal to make LA a wonderful city for me. Like I said, I would jump off a cliff if Steve said it was the best way to get coffee, but I wasn’t jumping off of cliffs. I was too excited to make Dog Problems, [so] LA it was.

Sam and I moved to the "Silver Palace" in Silverlake California in the middle of December. We found an amazing studio in Burbank, California and an amazing engineer in Ken Sluiter, and our goal was to just do everything free from a record label and someone constantly messing up the recording process by saying things like "that’s not high octave enough". The only pressure we had at all was from our manager saying "You have a tour you accepted in March, [so] get it done by then.” Other than that, it was me, Sam, Steve, and Ken working 13 hours a day for 6 days a week.

It became our lives we were putting so much of ourselves into. Everyone that worked and played on the record was the same way when they were there contributing. I would leave the studio at 2 in the morning and wake up at 10 to be at the studio by 11. There was no free time — the four of us were so invested in this. We all bought into the concept. 

In the meantime, things outside of the studio were getting interesting. We had a lot of labels calling and constantly asking about it. During one week of recording, I remember at least 3 different label people coming down to the studio. Our minds weren’t made up as to what we were doing with the record once it was recorded — all we wanted to do was finish it — but we kept our options open and let people sit in the big chair and listen to what we had been working on. The response was overwhelmingly positive, but we didn’t really think about it too much beyond the compliments we were receiving. Sam and I got used to LA — I was 10 minutes away from where I had been the previous summer when I was back "on" in my “on and off" relationship. I was ten minutes from her, she was calling every day, I was singing about it… but how was it not getting to me? Why did I not care?

My phone was off. I woke up in Silverlake one morning and started wondering why for the last month I had a smile on my face. Sure, I was down at times, but the thing that had been bringing me down for 3 years was now the last thing on my mind. Apparently, it had been that way for awhile. Something that took 3 years to get over… I was finally just okay with it. No big realization — just the fact that things happen. People make mistakes. And I came out of it alright. I was good; not great… I was good, and that felt good.

I wasn’t looking for great anymore. I was okay. The last song on Dog Problems is all about that. Here, this record was supposed to be the downs, and the ups, and it ended with the middle: the realization that I don’t need to be talking; I don’t need to be locked in my room — I need to enjoy what’s going on around me. And if things go wrong, they go wrong. There’s always tomorrow.

Dog Problems means so much to me in so many different ways. I’ve never been more proud of anything in my life. I cried so many times during the making of the record. All the money I had spent on therapy, and all I had to do was go make a record, realize that I’m alright, and realize that I made something that I’ll forever be proud of.

Shit… the record was supposed to be about how California can change you for the worse, [but] it played a huge part in doing the opposite!

So as we were putting the finishing touches on the record (all our friends came in and recorded! A ton of people we admired came and worked on the record! All of their responses were so positive that it's hard not to get an ego about it. These are the people I worship. They’re the ones I wanted to pay tribute to, and they think we've made something unique and special. It’s like Michael Jordan telling you that you have a nice jump shot (no more sports references… I swear I’m done)) and we started to think about what we were going to do with it. How we were going to release it. Labels were getting pretty into it, and we knew we would have to make a decision soon.

After much debate and discussion, we decided that the record was something we had made completely on our own, so why not release it completely on our own? Nettwerk was going to take care of the distribution so it would have a major label distro. It would be inside all of the Best Buys; what more did we want? We didn’t want a big fat check — we did that last time. It made us miserable, and nothing came out of it. Barely anyone at the labels helped us, we weren’t making music videos, our songs weren’t on the radio, so why would we take their criticism? After all, everything that we’ve done — any success we’ve had is from being real people who make music. From showing up to play, from 3 years on the road. 

On Interventions [+ Lullabies], there might have been an Elektra logo on the back of the record, but it ended right there. We were the ones SHOWING people who we were. I wouldn’t have it any other way — no one knows us better than ourselves, so why not release it ourselves? To me, it’s not only a testament to the hard work we put into the band (Mike, Don, Marko, Toco, everyone else involved in putting these songs to life — you guys are the best thing we have. It’s pretty special when your best friends are some of the most talented musicians), but I really feel like the people who come to our shows are such good people that they don’t give a fuck what label it’s on.

They are there because we are doing something positive, and because we care about them as much as they care about us. So for the time being we've said "fuck the middleman": we're the only people we can blame at this point. I’m so tired of even talking about major labels and the split and everything like this. The music is the only thing I care about. Dog Problems is the only thing I care about, so why let someone else ruin it?

The Vanity Label was born.

The record got finished. We had no time to rehearse, and we had to go right back out to tour. Our first show before the Motion City Soundtrack tour was in Nashville — I remember the last time we were in Nashville, there were about ten kids. Reuben’s accomplice kept asking them why they hate whales, so we figured why not go there and get some of the rust out of the way. After all, we haven't toured in a year so there should be like 3 kids there; we can mess up if need be.

Unfortunately, we were not allowed to mess up. On a Sunday night in Nashville, with Ted Leo playing across the street (I <3 Ted), our first headlining show outside of Arizona in almost a year was over sold out. What the fuck happened? 

We thought we were going to have to play for another 3 years just to get back to where we were when we left, and yet it’s sold out on a Sunday night? It didn’t end there either — the whole tour went like that… night after night ("nite after nite?"). I couldn't believe it. As if having Dog Problems wasn’t enough, now we have people showing their support in the most positive way: coming to the shows, being there from the only thing they knew before. Those two months were such good months. It was the last thing I expected. Thanks so much to all the bands that played with us, and thanks so much for everyone that came to the shows and sang along. We'll be back in July.

In the meantime, things were going great on the Vanity Label front. Business actually felt natural. We are shooting a video with the directors we had always dreamed of doing a video with (it won’t be serious...no pouty face). There were magazines like AP and online magazines like AP taking notice, supporting the whole idea and concept. We actually took press photos. I’ve never been through any of this before, it’s exciting. I don’t think it’s going to change who we are, not one bit, but it’s still exciting to see people who can help out actually help out.

So where does that leave me now? Sitting on my bed. I’ve rambled for hours, the air still doesn't work, and I’ve been told that Dog Problems (something that isn't supposed to come out till July) has been leaked. Not the best news when you just got out of the pool, but it happens. I freaked out at first — I thought I was going to lock myself in my room. After all, this is something that we spent over two years making. It’s something that you have to take the time… listen to in headphones… play loud… listen to in order of the tracks… the artwork… Sam did the best artwork he has ever done. The packaging is something we paid extra for because Sam’s concept was so brilliant, and now… it’s leaked on the internet? I was locking my door, then our manager called.

"Hello?" 

"We're releasing it on the website today." 

"Wow."

So, here goes. You’ve read enough. I shouldn’t have to go on about it anymore, but I will say, if you wanna wait for the full hard copy release then do so. It’s July 11 — we are gonna be touring right after that — but if you want to get it now,.please do it by purchasing it right here. We released it, it’s our money, it’s our little baby — you should take the time to listen to it all the way through, free of distraction. You should turn the songs into your own. It’s an adventure, and it’s something that we put everything we have into; and if anyone deserves it first, it’s you guys who have been here with us all along.

Without further ado...

"Dog Problems"

- Nate

[themadauthorshatter]

Do you guys know what could've been kind of interesting to see in SGE? More specifically, the first book? Tedros realizing he has some possible feelings for Agatha while still thinking he's in love with Sophie.

Think of it like this:

Tedros trying to be closer with Sophie, i.e. trying to talk about his life back in Camelot, any frustrations he's having in his classes or with his friends, or even just wanting to know more about HER, but Sophie only hugs his arm, rests her head on his shoulder, or simply holds his hand and tells him she loves him.

Upon seeing this, his mind and eyes drift to Agatha, who is doing something like getting some homework done early or practicing some magic. Maybe he sees Kiko and Agatha together and Kiko is complaining about accidentally dying her hair green and making it all spiky, so Agatha waves a glowimg finger and fixes it right up for her, explaining to Kiko, who wanted blonde hair, that she's beautiful with her dark hair and Tristan is an idiot if he doesn't see that; not a very "Agatha" line, but I imagine she'd be tired of seeing and hearing Kiko cry and is genuine in her words because Kiko's nice to her and a pretty decent friend.

Maybe a challenge happens where people from the opposite side partner with each other and Tedros OBVIOUSLY partners with Sophie.

Agatha, however, doesn't get a chamce to think before Hester and Anadil equally take a step forward-

AND HORT CRASHES INTO AGATHA INSTEAD-He wants to get Sophie back for using him, and Hester is not taking her away from him.

Even with a possible concussion, Agatha and Hort do well, the challenge being getting across a deep and raging river by walking across a log or something, I'm not good at making up challenges for fairytales.

Because she's in heels and doesn't want to ruin her makeup, Sophie crawls across the log rather than walks, which makes Tedros have to slow down and wait for her.

I should probably mention that this log is close to the water and is cracking beneath them, so THEY NEED TO GTFO the log.

Tedros knows this, but doesn't want to leave Sophie(both because they'll get points taking away for leaving their partner and he's still pretty sure he loves her).

Chekhov's gun fires. The log breaks and both Sophie and Tedros fall in and are swept away beneath the surface.

Agatha follows with most of the students and Yuba following.

Because she's a smart person, can swin, and doesn't care about her looks, unlike many of the other students, Agatha recruits Chaddick, because he's strong, and Anadil, with she has rats, which are CRAZY intelligent, and they find another dead tree or a vine or something to put over the river, thin enough for Sophie and Tedros to grab, but thick enough that it won't break. Anadil kicks her maguc into overdrive and grows her rats to be the size of pitbulls, and Chaddick and Agatha use them to get to Tedros and Sophie out of the river before the tree or vine snaps.

I'm sorry for making Anadil OP, but she's exhausted when her rats are back to their normal sizes, too tired to even stand up as she glares at Agatha and tells her, "That is the last time I'm helping you."

Tedros storms back to the Evers with Sophie trailing behind him, begging for him to listen as she apologizes.

Under water, she had flailed and held Tedros down as he tried to get above the surface, which almost made them both drown.

He doesn't talk to her at lunch, but does notice Chaddick awkwardly commending Agatha for her quick thinking. By awkward, I mean it's almost painful to watch him find the right words to thank this "witch" for helping to save his best friend.

Again, this is an awkward exchange and it takes a few minutes for Agath to understand Chaddick and not get offended.

Tedros thinks on this and considers all the "connection" moments he's had like the goblin challenge where he mistook Agatha for Sophie and when he picked Agatha's coffin.

Sophie notices him staring and asks if everything's alright and why he isn't paying attention to her; water on the brain.

He shrugs, smiles, and says it's nothing, which makes Sophie smile and go back to talkimg, Tedros inconspicuously watching Agatha cackle her giddy ass off when Beatrix accidentally falls in mud while trying to approach Tedros in glass slippers. Kiko laughs behind her hand, but is close to tears. Agatha does magic her clean, but Beatrix still pouts and gets a little mad, even if the squeal she did was nothing short of hilarious.

Trial By Tale happens, events and all, but Tedros doesn't instantly break up with Sophie. He keeps his distance instead.

One night, after he's won and hasn't spoken a word to Sophie or sat near her at lunch, eating in his room instead to avoid her and because he's still a little injured, he is awake and can't sleep, so he wanders the quiet school halls, watching snow fall and reminiscing about home and how his school year's been, maybe even having a made up conversation with his father about what's happened.

HOW COINCIDENTAL THAT AGATHA IS ALSO OUT OF HER ROOM AND LEANING AGAINST A LEDGE TO ALSO WATCH THE SNOW.

This is the conversation between them that follows:

(Agatha turns to look at him with annoyed eyes)"... Here to call me a witch again?"

"Well, as long as you don't punch me again, I won't."

(Narrows her eyes a little mire before turning back to the snow.) "Why are you out here?"

(Tedros leans against the wall facing her and tips his head back, watching the snow.) "Can't sleep. Hester's demon got me better than I thought." (Chuckle) "I still have a bruise on my side from the thing."

(Agatha gulps as she remembers how it broke into pieces and attacked him, but says nothing.)

"How about you? Does the witch have you doing her work for her again?"

(Agatha gasps, surprised by the jab to her friend and at how he figured it out. Tedros's face is mostly expressionless, though he does raise an eyebrow as if to say, 'Go 'head. Prove me wrong.' She relaxes again and shakes her head.) "My room doesn't have a good view of the trees. I bet it's snowing in Gavaldon, too. Harder than it is here, maybe."

"Gavaldon?"

"My village. Where Sophie and I came from. Our home."

(Tedros laughs) "I'm sorry, how long have you two been friends for?"

"Long enough. What about you? What brings the prince of Camelot out to watch the first snow of winter?"

(Tedros's smile drops as he returns his gaze to outside.) "Like I said. I couldn't sleep."

"Why are you REALLY out here?"

(Tedros is silent for a few seconds, biting his lip because he's obviously uncomfortable.) "... Your village. Gavaldon. Do you... miss it?"

(After another second of silence, Agatha responds.) "A little bit. We were better friends there, at least. And I miss my cat."

(Tedros humms quietly as he gives a slight nod, biting back a 'witch' comment.)

"I guess you're used to the attention. Being the prince and all."

(Tedros shrugs and scratches the back of his neck.) "Sort of. Not really. No one ever followed me around like Beatrix. Could you see a maid being on my tail like SHE does?"

(Agatha can't help but laugh, Tedros chucklong with her before his smile drops.)

"I don't know. I mean..." (He leans on the ledge.) "I like being with my mates and all, but... it gets annoying when there's always a couple of girls giggling at you behind the corner. I miss my room, too. And the library. And the court yard. And the garden. And the field."

(His voice breaks at that last one, but Agatha doesn't bring it up. Instead, it's her turn to talk about home.)

"I miss my mom. We didn't really get along, but she's my family, Reaper, too."

"You named your cat Reaper?"

"He took care of our rat and bird problem. You'd be surprised at how many blue jays come to a cemetery." (Agatha's smile drops.) "I miss that, too, the cemetery. It was quiet. And just reading fairytales in my room instead of studying to BE in one."

(Tedros nods at that, no joke or quip.) "It's all fun until you learn how dangerous it all really is." (He is silent for a second, gulping and running his hand through his hair.) "Thanks, by the way."

(Agatha turns to him, playing coy because she's not used to the Evers ACTUALLY being nice to her, save for Kiko.) "For what?"

"The Trial. Saving me. I don't think I'd be here, if you didn't."

(Agatha blushes and looks at her hands.) "No... No problem. I mean... Well... I guess that..."

(Tedros smiles and slips some hair behind her ear and kisses her hand.) "'You're welcome, Tedros. I hope you can repay me, somehow, Tedros.'"

(Agatha almost tells him to forgive Sophie, but instead says something else.) "Can you talk to Sophie? She's sorry about what happened and she really does love you."

(Tedros frowns.) "Love isn't pulling someone down with you when you're under water. And neither is leaving your teammate to fight alone."

"You said you wanted to repay me, this is how. Do you really want to be indebted to a witch?"

(Tedros reluctantly nods.) "Fine. I'll talk to her."

"Thank you."

(Agatha turns and walks back to her room, but Tedros only watches her leave, speaking when she's out of ear shot.) "I don't think you're a witch."

I feel like I could add more, but this will be enough for now.

I hope you guys enjoyed, sorry if this came off as fanfiction-y or any of the characters were a little OP, magic or otherwise. And like I said in my progress post, this is just what I would have done to have Tedros and Agatha fall in love, or start falling in love

Either way, I hope you enjoyed this

Incase you're interested, here's a link to part 2: https://themadauthorshatter.tumblr.com/post/642332442965983232/im-bored-im-continuing-with-that-tagatha

[pokeexehasstoppedworking]

Love Doesn’t Do Encores Ch2 Welcome To The Wonderful World Of Pokemon

(Semi-songfic chapter. The song used is I'll Be The One by NerdOut on youtube. I don't own a single thing and all rights and credits go to the original artists. Im only using it for the song-fic chapter. Link to song here.)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U5PjLhNsnaM

"BBBBBBBBAAAAAAAA!!!!"

A sheep's cry pierced through the air as the darkness swallowing you shifted. You groaned and the first sensation your body felt was the softness of cushions under your sore, stiff body. Your....bed? Thank goodness! You were sure that the nightmare you had the other night was one of the worse ones you could've ever had. The soft groans of your own voice reached your ears and like any other typical morning, you begrudingly got up. You still had college-..THAT'S RIGHT! You still had to get to dorm registration on time! Oh you hoped you didn't oversleep again! You went to move your arm- You sucked in a hissed breath of pain through your teeth as pain throbbed from the sore limb making you flinch and your eyes blink open. The first thing you noticed past your blurry vision was that it was still fairly dark. Not completely dark but as if the sun was just starting to rise or a faint light in the room was turned on. Confused, you blinked even more as your vision cleared up even more and noticed the white ceiling in the dim lighting. You blinked at the ceiling before slowly turning your head to the left to see what was around you. From where you were laying, you could see a pink wall, and on the wall was a window framed by pink curtains. The view outside was a forest and beyond that was the twilight sky with the sun just starting to peek out letting light go out to the world. Next to it was a couple paintings, a woonden cabinet under the window with a few things on it, a TV, a white radiator, coffee table, and a plant in a pot. This-....

This wasn't your house at all. No room in your home looked like this. Then...where were you?

You sat up- A hiss escaped your lips as a spike of pain and soreness ran down your back and you winced. ...You..Tried to sit up but only managed to prop yourself onto your elbows as you took a better look around the room you were in. Taking notice that the couch you laid on was a green color. As you did you noticed a white door right across the room from you, and the sight of another uncarpeted room from you to the left. Along with another bookshelf and radiator alongside the wall behind the couch. YEP. Definately not your living room. How did you get here? Your f/c eyes looked down at your body and you noticed you still had on your fuzzy but now dirty pjs and what looked like was a home made quilt was thrown over your body to keep you warm and a few patches of your exposed skin was covered in bruises and small scratches from last night- Wait! So it wasn't a dream!? That giant crow thing did chase you!? Then how did you get in a nest!? Where were you!? Who brought you inside!? Were you still just dreaming?! That's it! This is nothing but a wild dream and you're going to wake up any moment. The sound of a door from the next room over opening and closing made you jump and turn your head towards the noises. There was some shuffling from over there before footsteps made their way towards you. Your eyes widened and breath hitched in your throat as you could only lay there and watch as a shadow danced across the wall in the dim light and soon after a person appeared head looking in your direction.

"Oh goodness. You're finally awake," came what sounded like a middle aged ladies voice and as the person stepped into the morning light coming in from the room you finally caught a glimpse of the person. What you were met with was a woman who looked around the same age as your mother. Oval shaped glasses sat in front of her brown eyes as her grey hair was pulled over in a ponytail sitting upon her left shoulder, tied back with a green ribbon. As she stepped closer to you you took notice of the flower printed gumboots making the heavy footsteps and the plain grey t shirt and long overalls adorned her body. "I was worried you might've been really hurt from how we found you." You didn't say anything as she kneeled down next to you and gave you a concerned look over, reaching a hand out but not touching you. "How are you feeling? You're not hurt are you?"

"Uh..." You shook your head finally coming back into the moment and reached a hand up to rub your head. "N-No. I-I'm alright." Your eyes again looked around the room. "Where am I?"

She sighed in relief. "Thank goodness. Oh. Where are my manners? You're in my house. Munchlax found you passed out by the garden fence and I was worried you were hurt. I almost thought about calling the doctor, but luckily you woke up shortly after we brought you inside." She smiled wider in a motherly way. "Wait. How rude of me. I didn't even ask your name."

"Uh..My name is Y/n, Miss," you answered back before deciding to fully sit up. Which you immediately regretted as you hissed leaning your body up. The lady watching with a concerned look as you sorely sat up all the way and looked back to her. "How did I get here?"

"I brought you inside, which wasn't easy," she sighed reaching a hand up to straighten her glasses, "But if you mean how you got by my garden, I can't really say. I only found you after my munchlax pointed you out."

"I-.." Your mind rewound to last night remembering the giant crow thing that you had ran away from in the middle of the night through the darn woods. "I was chased! B-By this giant black bird thing with wings!"

The lady's brow rose. "A..bird? Well I'm not sure what a 'bird' is, but there is a wild flock of corvinight in the woods out back. They're very territorial of that area. It's the reason I don't let my children wonder too far in there." A small thing popped up next to her and gave off a small puppy growl sound. "Oh look who finally came in."

You jumped and blinked at the-....the-...whatever this small cat-..dog-...bear thing was that was looking up at you both before you pointed at it. "W-W-What the heck is that?!"

"Oh this is my pokemon." She smiled happily at the small thing before petting it between the ears. It gave off a pleased growl as she did. "He likes to follow me around my garden and sneak veggies when I'm not looking, but it looks like today he found something else. Isn't that right, Munchy?" It growled again happily at the affection she gave it.

"Wait. D-D-Did you say-...pokemon!?"

Pokemon!? As in-...The game pokemon!? No. That can't be right, this couldn't be happening! There was absolutely no way you were in a fictional world of a video game and anime series right now! Your eyes briefly went back to the munchlax who tilted it's head back at you curiously and blinked like how a dog would. ....If you weren't seeing it with your own two eyes, and your pain proving you were in fact awake, you would've sworn you were still dreaming!

The lady nodded. "Yes. Have you never seen a munchlax before?"

"Uh! N-No no! I have! Must've just...slipped my mind!," you quickly fumbled with your words and the lady hummed.

"Well, it seems since you were chased by a corvinight I guess you would seem a little frazzled. Do you want me to call you a doctor or anyone?"

"N-No! R-Really I'm ok." Even if she called a doctor you really didn't have any money on you to pay for it anyways. "C-Could you tell me where I am-" You paused...Wait. What were places in the pokemon series called again. "Uh...Region! Y-Yeah! Could you tell me what region I'm in?"

Her brow rose up more as she looked at you. "We're in the Galar Region. You don't know where you are?" You shook your head no. "Are you sure you're ok? You didn't hit your head did you?"

Galar Region. Why did that sound so familiar to you? "Uh-...W-Well you see the thing is-...I-...Um..I-I'm-" Your mind raced with some kind of excuse to give the woman. You couldn't just say you were inside of a video game! She'd think you were crazy or really did hit your head. Although you might've taking that tumble from the tree last night. "I'm uh-...Just visiting here! Yeah! I-..M-Must've forgotten because of last night."

The lady stared at you for a moment longer before slowly nodding seeming to understand. "I see. I guess anyone would forget certain things if they were chased by a flock of corvinight." She finally stood up from her kneeled position next to you with a smile. "Well I'm glad you're alright. Although it looks like you had quite the fright by how messy you are. Would you like some breakfast? I imagine you must be hungry."

"I-I mean- N-N-No thanks! I couldn't possibly ask you to do that for me when you've already done so much for me," you insisted not wanting to overstep your welcome.

"I insist. It's the least I can do for you. By the looks of it you lost your things to the wild flock." She gestured to your body and you looked down at yourself. Oh...She was right. You really didn't have anything other than the clothes on your back didn't you? Great- A sound of thunder from your stomach made you sheepishly look down at your own stomach's betrayl of showing your hunger but she just chuckled. "I'll take that as a yes then." She smiled. You went to interject again before hissing as your sore muscles pinched in pain, making her tilt her head at you again. "Oh dear. It seems you were a little more roughed up than we thought. Why don't you go clean yourself up?" She gestured to the white door you had noticed earlier. "There's a shower and bathroom through there. You can clean up and I can let you borrow an old pair of clothes from the back closet."

"Oh NO!" You held up your hands to stop her. "Breakfast is more than enough. I insist!"

"And then you'd go around all covered in dirt with filthy clothes looking like you're homeless?" She asked raising a brow and you took a moment to pause and look down at your dirt and grass stained covered pjs..Oh yeah. You really didn't have any of your other things from your home did you? "Mm hm. That's what I thought. Besides. Like I said it's not a problem."

Well considering you didn't really have any other options at the moment- You sighed and nodded your head in agreement with her to which the lady smiled and again directed you towards the washroom of the home. Well, it's not like you had anything better to do..Except hiss and groaned in pain as every muscle in your body ached trying to move with you literally forcing yourself to toss the quilt off and force your sore legs off the couch and onto the cool floor. Hissing and reaching up to carefully massage your dull aching muscles in your arms and neck and shoulders. Getting up was another thing in of itself. You felt like you did a ten mile hike with how sore your body was, but never the less you willed your self to shuffle towards the washroom. On the way there the lady had come back as you opened the white door and held out an old shirt and more overalls and explained that they were an old pair and she really didn't mind giving them to you when you tried to resist her kindness once again, but you ended up relenting and you ended up taking them into the bathroom with you. You were happy you did in the end because you ended up discovering more than you'd think.

The warm water of the shower helped to release more tension from your aching muscles and while scrubbing off any dirt it was like something clicked in your mind that halted your movements for a while. Pokemon-....You were INSIDE the world of POKEMON! Or having a very very very realistic dream or hallucination. But HOW!?...Well you guessed that question wasn't on the table for now. The more important one was how to get back!? You paused there for a little while pondering over all the questions and info you had just gotten in your head. Ok. Relax. You took a deep breath and exhaled trying to relax yourself and mind. Ok. Don't freak out. The first thing you rationalized was to figure out where you were, then you could go from there. The woman said this was the 'Galar Region' right? Alright. But since this is Pokemon, does that mean you were in the show or one of the games? And why did Galar sound so familar. A memory suddenly flashed by in your mind and you gasped as the memory of being back home. Of the box that knocked over and seeing the games and old consoles tumble out. Of the pokemon game case: Pokemon Sword and Shield- HOW COULD YOU HAVE MISSED THAT!? It was the very last video game you had completed and it took place in the GALAR REGION!! You wanted to smack yourself as everything came flooding back and you groaned. Great! Well at least you knew where you were now, nevermind the fact that going into a video game should've been inpossible unless dreaming. Now that you knew where you were...to an extent, you could try to process what to do next after this-....Wait a moment....Now that you thought about it. This home and that woman seemed familiar too. Had you seen them before? You shook your head, deciding it was enough thinking to yourself and got out. Thankful for the clean change of clothes you slipped on once dried although your (f/c) hair was still sticking onto you slightly wet. But the surprises didn't end there however. As soon as you excited the washroom you were met with another person just sitting on the couch, she looked up as soon as you opened the door and the both of you stared at each other.

You blinked in surprise and looked at her. Not expecting a person sitting there. The girl was younger than you by a few years, looked about 13-14 years old if you had to take a guess. Her dark brown hair was in a short hair cut above her shoulders with matching dark brown eyes, her body adorned a pink dress, grey jacket, green socks with brown boots, and a green beany on her head with a white pom pom sticking up from it. In her hands was a phone and the noises of a crowd cheering wildly came from it in the time you two stared at each other. Presumably what she was watching, and in front of her on the coffee table was now a tea cup on a saucer pan. Presumably what she had been drinking.

Eventually she asked, "Who are you?"

You jumped and blinked at the question. "Uh...I-I'm Y/n. Uh...I just....W-What's your name?," you asked back.

"Gloria. This is my house-"

"Oh there you are." You both jumped and turned around seeing the woman with the glasses once again making an appearance, Munchlax waddling at her side eyeing the plate she was holding in her hands and she sent another smile at you. "I see you finished just in time, and you met my daughter." She then looked to the young girl who looked back at her apparent mother. "Now don't be rude to our guest. She's already frazzled enough being chased by corvinight."

"Corvinight?," Gloria asked eyes widening a bit as her mother nodded. "Oh wow. That's a bad experience."

"And now you know why I never let you kids in those woods." She turned back to you and held out the plate. "Here. It's nothing fancy but it's good enough."

You agreed and nodded reaching for it. "Thank you." The plate as you could tell had a few eggs and some meat on it, but you didn't mind as your stomach rumbled and you happily ate it with the fork you were provided. As you ate, you noticed the sunlight through the window had gotten much brighter. It still looked early tho. Maybe seven, seven thirty in the morning. "This is good. Thank you." You complimented to the woman who smiled back at you.

"I'm glad you like it. I'm sorry I couldn't offer you more."

"N-No. You've already been too kind. I couldn't ask for anymore anyways."

"Well, if you wait around a moment longer I can at least get your other clothes all cleaned up before you go. It'd be cruel to let you go out in that condition, and you can keep the ones you're wearing now. I insist!" She cut you off as you went you counter. "I wouldn't let my own children go out with such things and it'd be cruel of me to do the same to you. You did seem like you lost everything during your scuffle last night."

That made you pause...That's right. You didn't literally have anything other than the very clothes on your back! No money. No phone. No car. Nothing!! And you doubted you could've called anyone with your phone anyways if you still had it. They were all a world- or game- away from you. ...So it's better to take what she offered right?

"O-Ok. If you insist."

She smiled. "That's the spirit. How are you feeling anyhow?"

"Better thanks. The shower helped," you answered before taking another bite of eggs.

"Im glad. Why don't you two sit down and talk while I finish up cleaning those clothes of yours?" She gestured to Gloria who shrugged now with a small smile before looking back to the screen of her phone, before turning and walking out of the room towards where ever you guessed she was cleaning your clothes.

You watched her go before you looked back towards the couch and the girl who was excited watching the screen the cheering noises were coming from. ....Gloria?..GLORIA!! You recognized her now! In the game you could chose between two trainers and considering if you didn't rename them or change their looks to yours, they were either Gloria or Victor. And that woman was their mother in game!! Now you recognized her! Which means in front of you was one of the playable trainers you played as during the game! So you guessed you really were in the game. You stared at her a bit more before clearing your throat grabbing her attention.

"Uh...S-So-..." What do you say to a video game character you play as?..You pointed towards the couch. "W-Would you mind if I sit down?"

She shrugged. "Sure. I don't mind!," she replied before looking back to the screen. You watched a moment longer before deciding to slowly walk over and sat down next to her- "YES!!" She suddenly yelled out doing a fist pump catching you off guard almost dropping your fork. "LEON WON!! Not that I'm surprised of course." She said to no one. "He's the champion for a reason."

You blinked and paused for a moment....Champion..Leon?? OH YEAH! Wow. It had been a while since you played this game. Couldn't remember everything in one day you guessed. Leon was the reigning champion of Galar's gym leaders and pokemon League. You wracked your brain for as much info you could remember at that moment about this Leon, but you weren't doing a good job on it except that you vaugely remember he had a horrible sense of direction and he was supposedly really nice. Your eyes tilted to her phone. Maybe if you looked?

"What are you watching?,'' you asked nodding to the screen and she turned smiling at you widely.

"It's not what but who!" She excitedly pointed her screen to you and you blinked. The sounds of people cheering greeted you as did the sight of some purple haired man waving to the crowds around him....and you blinked at the sight. Flashbacks from last night spearing into your mind like lightning. "HEY! I know that guy!"

"Who doesn't? Leon's been champion for years running! He's like one of the kindest most strongest trainers out there!," she spoke to you happily. "This was from earilier this morning during his latest match. I was asleep but thank goodness for news websites!" She brought the screen back to her again as the video stopped. "Raihan was challenging him for champion title again. But it's always so cool to see them both."

Raihan? Well now that you knew the game you were in you could definately remember some parts including some of the characters. Raihan including. "Isn't that the guy who flirts with everyone and takes too many selfies?"

"...PFFFFT- AHAHA!!" Gloria turned her head with a snort and a few bits of laughter. You weren't expecting that...but smiled at the light hearted laughter from the teen before she looked back at you with a bright smile. "I g-guess you could say that. Hehe. Although I haven't heard anyone refer to him like that before." She shook her head no. "Nah. Raihan's the strongest out of the Galarian Gym Leaders. Other than Leon of course. If Leon wasn't so powerful Raihan would've become champion instead, but since he is Raihan is the top among the gym leaders and likes to challenge Leon a lot for the title...Despite losing all the time. He likes to document everything and posts it all to his own website for everyone to see! ...He's actually a pretty fun guy by what Hop and Leon have told me."

You nearly choked on another bite of your food as you turned to look at her again. "....Wait. You MET Leon?"

"Well, yeah. I knew him ever since we were all little. He's from here you know."

"No I didn't know. Uh...Mind telling me where we are?"

She blinked. "You really don't know?"

"Corvinight chasing can make someone lose a sense of direction,'' you answered as an excuse.

" You're in Postwick. A farming town since days of old where people and their pokemon live in close harmony...or that's what they put on the post cards for the few tourists." She shrugged. "Not really an amazing place, but it's got pretty wildlife and lots of wooloos. So I guess I can't complain. Not when I'm about to start and finally challenge this year's arena battles for the title!"

You blinked. "The title?"

"For the Champion? How do you not know that?" She rolled her eyes. "Not everyone can challenge Leon for the official title other than a few with special titles themselves like Raihan, since he's considered the top strongest gym leader. But there's also the arena battles for the new trainers that begins once a year. It's so special you have to buy a pass just to join or else you can't and only after you get the gym badges before the actual event you can battle in. It's the Chairman's way of making sure only the best trainers can try to earn the title and battle Leon themselves."

"Wow," you muttered. You vaugely remembered all of that from the game but actually hearing Gloria explaining it seemed like it was much more harder outside your gaming experience.

"Oh yeah! And ever since Leon took the champion title from the previous one, he's been unbeatedable for YEARS! Last year he actually broke Galar's record for the longest standing champion yet!" She pointed towards the ceiling and smiled with a determined look in her brown eyes! "And when I get out there Ill show Leon and them all my years of training paid off! Victor's going to be so jealous!"

"Victor?" Wasn't that the name of the male trainer you could've played as in the game. "Uh...Where is he anyways?"

Gloria shrugged. "My brother was more interested in traveling and seeing things than battling. He left home on his own journey earlier this year but we keep in touch when we call or he sends us pictures."

Brother? So in the world you were sucked in Gloria and Victor are siblings rather than an only child the player could pick? Interesting. ..Was that the only change in the game? You tucked that info aside for later in case you needed it and nodded. The next few minutes were you and Gloria watching some more videos on the phone, the plate emptied soon after and placed on the coffee table next to the cup. Eventually Gloria pulled up a song and you instantly tilted your head towards it. The younger girl seemed to noticed the smile on your face now.

"Oh you like music?," she asked.

"Duh! It's like one of my most favorite things!,'' you comfirmed with a smile.

She smiled back. "Well then I don't suppose you know who Piers is do ya?"

Piers?...Piers. The name rung a bell, but you couldn't quite place a name to a face here. ..Wait a second- "Uh....He's one of the gym leaders right??"

"Yeah. Sadly not a lot of people know that or battle him really...In fact I don't think his gym badge is required at all to get into the champion cup?..But nevermind that. He's known throughout galar for something far more than just a Gym Leader! Most don't even know about the Gym Leader bit because of his other job!" She turned and began typing something into her phone.

Oh. So Piers was another gym leader huh? You really had forgotten a lot. Haven't you? "Other job?" You rose a questioning eye brow and Gloria finally pulled up a video and held up the phone to you.

A beat you had never heard began to play and she smiled widely. "Yeah! He's a rock star! The most popular in Galar! Watch and listen!"

On the screen was a stage. And on the stage was a band, but they were more hidden in the dark, the spot light mostly on a single person standing on stage and holding a mic to his mouth. His punk rock attire seemed to fit him well as he tapped his punk rock boots along with the music as it played. Long black and white bangs and hair flowed from his head as piercing blue eyes looked out at the crowd. Or whoever was filming.

"You know there's more to the chapter,'' the man sung out and you blinked at the sudden tender, gentle tone of the man it came from. There was a....an almost tired motion behind the tone, but you could've just been thinking wrong. "On the edge of the darkest day. To be the ultimate master. I'll take my story to any place. Jumped in a race, I was born to run! Fresh out the gate, I was born to run! I'm not look-ing back-wards! They'll yell my name through the stadiums when I'm gone!"

"Isn't he great?," Gloria asked and you blinked to her a bit in surprise, having been absorbed in the music for a bit. "I actually think this is one of his older songs, but he's always trying to put more out to attract attention."

You blinked but turned back to the man with piercing blue eyes as he continued.

"-I'll never be gone." There was a brief three second pause as he took a breath and closed hit eyes. "I'm. On. My. Way. A destiny as old as the sun! They'll. Stake. Their. Cla-a-aim. But I know that I'll be the one!" The beat suddenly picked up with a more rock theme mixed in and bright blue eyes popped back open as his soft expression from before turned into what you could only describe as Gloria's determined face from before as he sang after the brief pause for music. "But I know that I'll be the one!" Another brief pause of music as he began moving along to the beat. "But I know that I'll be the one!" Followed by another pause of music.

"Wow..He's really good." You spoke out loud not meaning too but Gloria nodded.

"I know! He's been singing for as long as Leon's been champion!"

Oh really? Man you really wished you had more time back home to listen to music instead of your mother constantly badgering you to study or work. ..But then real life wasn't like this. And any moment you were still expecting to wake up from your sleep with your mother demanding you get ready and head for the first day on Campus because you were late again.

"A legendary adventure. Out in the wild to prove myself. This power too high to measure. I'll go to battle, don't need no help!" He suddenly leaned the mic forward a bit repeating the chorus from earlier. "Jumped in a race I was born to run! Fresh out the gate! I'm not look-ing backpwards! They'll yell my name through the stadiums when I'm gone!" One hand darted out pointing up. "Straight to the top. Yeah. I'm. On. My. Way. A destiny as old as the sun. They'll. Stake. Their. Cla-a-aim." A smile graced his otherwise tired or determined face and you couldn't help but feel the happiness from it. "BUT I KNOW I'LL BE THE ONE!!" More rock now dropped in the back most likely from the band behind him, and he began moving more to the music. "But I know that I'll be the one!!.....But I know that I'll be the one! I'm! On! My! Way! A destiny old as the sun! They'll! Stake! Their! Cla-a-aim! But I know that I'll be the one!"

The music ended and you couldn't help but smile at the ending performace, the singer, Piers you guessed by what Gloria said lifting a hand to the watching crowd as they cheered. Piers huh? Hopefully you're old memories would come back soon enough to remember him and everyone else soon. Might be helpful.

"Thank you! Please give a round of applause for my marvelous band and consider visiting my own music capital Spi-" He spoke into the mic but you didn't get to hear him finish wait he was saying before Gloria pulled the phone away and turned off the video. A little disappointment filling your features at the end of the song.

"Wow...He's uh..a good singer,'' you tried complimenting to remain polite.

"HE IS! When I battle him on my way to victory Im totally asking him to sign something for me!" She smiled like a giddy teen girl her age would and you smiled. She seemed to have a lot more personality to her than her in game part you played as.

"Well it certainly sounds like you two are getting along." Both of you looked up and over to see that Gloria's mother had returned and in her hands was you could only describe as a very old worn looking back pack and a smile on her face as she walked in. "I hope I'm not intruding."

"Hey, Mum! Nah. I was just showing Y/n some music videos." She nodded to the bag. "Whatcha got there?"

"Y/n's clothes I promised, and Victor's old school bag." She smiled as she held it out to you. "Here. I figured it would be awkward for you just to carry a pair of pajamas under your arms while traveling."

You stared at the bag before you..but it was placed into your lap before you could protest. "A backpack too?! Ma'am. It's nice b-b-but I can't accept this."

"Think nothing of it. That old thing was taking up space anyways. Victor never wanted it back after he got a new one before he left and it's been collecting dust ever since in the closet. You'd be doing me more of a favor if you took it." She reassured. "I'd be much happier knowing it's being used than becoming Munchlax's next chew toy. Besides, if you're going to start traveling, you'll need something to carry all your essentials in." Said pokemon yawned from behind her as the munchlax walked over to a carpet near the white door to the washroom and flopped over in a position for a nap.

Well....when she put it like that, it'd be much more useful to have. An old back pack was enough for now. "I...Thank you so much! ..for all of this! Im really grateful, Ma'am."

"Like I said think nothing of it. If I had lost everything being chased down by a flock of giant corvinight, I would've wanted someone helping me in the same way. And I can tell you're a good person." She smiled before turning her attention to the dishes left on the coffee table and picking them up. "You better be ready Gloria. Today's your big start you know."

"I know! I was just relaxing a bit." Gloria smiled and her mother rose a brow.

"We'll make sure you're ready," she said before turning and walking off letting Gloria groan. Kinda reminded you of your ma a bit.

"Oh. Are you going somewhere today?," you asked looking back to Gloria who nodded.

"Yeah! The Champions Cup! It's finally back and I'm feeling pretty lucky this time around! But I'm kinda waiting for someone still."

That's right! In the game is started out with the weird dream you had last night, which you now realized must've been the match between Leon and Raihan who must've been that other guy with the orange head band from said dream, before Gloria or Vincent went on their journey in game with...with...Another kid you were sure but you couldn't remember who. You went to ask her for a moment but the sound of a doorbell made the two of you blink and look over as the door just opened and you blinked as another teen walked in.

"Hello, Hello!," a younger male voice chimed out as the door closed behind him as he looked around. Before catching sight of Gloria sitting in the next room over on the couch next to you smiling as she smiled back.

"HOP!," she chimed happily. And your eyes widened.

HOP! That was his name! The boy who might've been the partner of the main player with how close friends they were, and the Champion's younger brother if memory served you right. The boy smiled and walked towards you both but your eyes blinked and went down to the fluffy companion by the boy's side. It-...It looked like a cheep with grey braids. It baaed in greeting following it's you guessed master into the living room.

"Oh, that your new flash phone, Gloria?," Hop asked noticing the phone in her hands to which Gloria nodded with a hum. "Were you watching Lee's exhibition match on it?"

"Sure was!" She burst with happiness! "It was so cool how he defeated Raihan!"

"But you can't cheer him on with your hands full!," Hop insisted followed my an agreeing bleat from his ...sheep pokemon, "You know the only way to properly cheer on Lee would be with his famous Charizard pose!" He then struck a pose that looked slightly familiar to you with his hand up and head tilted down. Gloria giggling and smiling and you not helping the smile on your face that came. Hop broke away from the pose and smiled again at Gloria...before blinking over at the lady beside her who oh so happened to be you. "Oh. Is that your friend?"

Upon being gestured at you paused and looked over him. He wore a blue fur-rimmed jacket, with a black shirt and pants, the latter with two purple stripes on the sides, along with black, white, and purple colored shoes, and a green bag thrown over his shoulder. His eyes were a gold yellow with a darker complexion, and dark purple hair. Like a younger Leon almost now that you remembered. Gloria however jabbed a thumb behind her at you.

"Who this? This is Y/n. She was chased by a flock of corvinight last night and Mum found her passed out by the garden."

You felt kinda embarrased about letting the lie go further and found it a lil more embarrassing that they thought you were chased by a flock of giant bird brained pokemon and fainted by a fence-....But you guessed it was better than them thinking you were crazy if you had said they were characters in a video game and you were somehow teleported here from the real world. But the way Hop looked at you gave you a more guilty feeling.

"Wild Corvinight?," he asked wide eyed, "How did you meet a whole flock of corvinight?"

"Uh-...." You tried to think of a good excuse of why they would chase you other than 'I magically woke up in a tree and saw a giant crow'. You settled on. "Camping in the woods??"

"...You mean you actually went camping in the Slumbering Weald?," he asked and you could only nod. "How are you alive?! There's lots of different dangerous wild pokemon there! How could you not know?"

You shrugged. "W-Well...Im kinda new around here."

Before he could say anything else an older woman's voice caught his attention from behind him. "Hop!," Gloria's Mother greeted him with a bright smile, "Didn't expect to see you here today, Dear. Isn't today the big day?"

Hop smiled and put his hands behind his head. "Yeah! That's why I came running over to get Gloria! Never mind watching the match now. I've got it recording at home anyway. I record all my brother's matches." He turned from he smiling lady and turned to Gloria still sitting on the couch. "Come with me, Gloria! He should be here any minute!"

Gloria gasped. "REALLY!?"

Hop nodded back. "And Lee always brings presents when he visits, so I wouldn't forget that bag if I were you. Now I've got to run! See you at mine later!" He turned and waved a hand at you. "It was nice to meet you Ms. Y/n!"

You could only wave as he and his pokemon quickly turned and exited the house with another squeaky noise from the door and Gloria quickly fumbled with her phone, shoving it into her grey jacket's pocket as she got up. And you blinked.

"Hey, where are you going?," you asked.

"To see Leon with Hop!," she excitedly answered looking at you, "Hop's been friends with Victor and me like FOREVER! Not to brag but I've known and liked Leon even before he was cool and we're like siblings! But I haven't seen him in forever and now he's seeing us before we start our own journeys! Im so excited to see him again!" She quickly turned and started towards the door-

Only to be stopped by her mother's voice. "Rushing off in that state, Gloria?," he mother asked raising a brow, "Didn't Hop say you should bring your bag?"

Gloria blinked. "OH! Right! I forgot!"

Her mother chuckled. "I last saw it in your room. And don't forget to grab a hat for the weather."

"I already have my hat!," she retorted back but ran past her mother and through the kitchen into through a door with a slam to where you supposed where you room was. Her mother shaking her head as she did.

You slowly stood up from your place on the cough, back pack in your hands as you slowly stepped away and through the living room entrance by the front door just as her mother turned back to you.

"Um..Y-yeah. I think I should get going too." You started but really...you were just not wanting to take anymore space than you already had. "T-Thank you for the clothes...and the food. I really appreciated it."

She smiled and waved a hand. "Not to worry a bit. It was the least I could do. Thank you for being so polite." She paused and blinked at you though. "But have you figured out where you're going next?"

You paused at her words. You hadn't even thought of that!! What WERE you going to do now? It's not like you could waltz right on home when you didn't even know how to get back!! You didn't even know where to go from here?! So to answer her you shrugged.

"Travel around more...I suppose."

"Travel around Galar barefoot?," she asked gesturing to your feet and you followed her pointing at your feet. ...Oh right. No nothing also applies to no shoes either. And before you could reply, the lady shook her head before walking towards you. "Here. You can have my old gum boots until you can get something better." You blinked and followed her with your head as she made her way past you and over to the coats handing on the wall by the front door. Reaching down and picking up a pair of green gumboots that looked the same as the flower print ones she wore, minus the pretty patterns. With a smile she turned back to you and held them out to you. "Here. Ever since I got the new ones I haven't used these at all. They have a small hole in the bottom of the left one's sole that leaks water in but it should work for you considering you don't step in water or any puddles."

You gawked at her for a moment but she placed them into your arms without a second thought as you gaped at her like a goldfish. "W-WHAT?! W-Wait! I just can't take your boots."

"Correction. Your gumboots with a hole in them that I definately can't use if I want to garden or use in the rain. Im serious when I say I can't use them and don't need them anymore. If you don't accept them, they'll just end up in the rubbage or recycling bin anyways. You're doing me a favor by taking them off my hands for me." She smiled. "And it'd be terrible if you had to walk around barefoot and stepped on a sharp rock or something and hurt yourself. It's better to have this in case."

Well....when she put it like that, it was probably best you took them. "I-....T-Thanks. I appreciate it." You smiled and bent down to put them on. The rubber boots squeaking as you did before you leaned back up and threw the backpack you were given. But there was still the question...What now? You could travel around you guessed since that's what you suggested..but you wanted to go home. How could you get home? You didn't even know where home WAS from here!...This reminded you of an old anime you watched a long time ago when a girl was sucked into a video game and she had to live through the whole thing trying to stay outta trouble-....Wait. Your f/c eyes widened. THAT'S IT!! In the game of Pokemon Sword and Shield the player who played either Gloria or Victor traveled around Galar for the Champion's cup to battle Leon and eventually defeat him and taking over the title of Champion themselves! And since it was Gloria going on this journey you assume this world has her to be the future champion. If she goes on her journey and defeats it as the game did, that would mean the game would be over! And if the game was won and over-...That means maybe..Just maybe whatever hallucination or dream or...or whatever fantasy realm thing happening to you would be over with too and you could go home!! Maybe..It was a long shot, but right now it was the only thing you could think of! So there was one thing you could think of now! To make sure Gloria succeeds on her journey and get home! Sounded like the cliche beginning of some fantasy show but what ELSE were you supposed to do now?? The sound of Gloria slamming open the door caught both of your attention as you both turned to her beaming and slipping her bag onto her back.

"I FOUND IT!!," she called and stopped in front of her mother who crossed her arms.

"Uh huh. And did you pack everything you need for a journey that could take days or even weeks to complete?"

"YEP!"

"Uh huh. Extra clothes?"

"Yes."

"Hygiene products?"

"Yes."

"Extra poke balls?"

"Yes!"

"What about food? That mini first aid kit? You PHONE?"

"MUM!!" Gloria puffed her cheeks out in a pout. "YES!! Can I PLEASE go now!? Leon's here!!"

...Her mom gave a smile. "Alright. But not before you give me a good bye hug, young lady." Gloria happily abliged and you smiled at the sight before she pulled away and patted her daughter's head. "You be safe out there ok? Don't forget to call me every so often. And say hi to dear Leon for me, alright?"

Gloria nodded and turned to you once she noticed you there with the back pack slung over your shoulders. "Are you leaving too Y/n?"

"Um..Yes. I remembered what I was traveling for. I was actually on my way to watch the Champion's Cup!," you replied and she smiled.

"Really? Wow! That's amazing but it's still pretty far off considering they have to give everyone time to complete the journey to get the gym badges. What are you gonna do in the meantime?"

You shrugged. That was a fair question. "I guess I'm going to travel around for a bit until then." After all there wasn't really anything for you to do in the meantime til then. And you shouldn't interfere in the events of the game just in case. You couldn't risk altering the events or Gloria's chances of becoming Champion herself.

"Hey! Why don't you come with me!?," she suggested and you blinked, "You seem like a cool person! And anyone who can make me laugh at Raihan is totally cool in my books!"

"ME! T-Travel with you?"

"Why not? I was planning on traveling with Victor or Hop, but considering Victor's already traveling and Hop might go a different path on his way to get the gym badges it could be fun to travel with someone! It'll be fun! Please Mum?!" She turned to her mother who hummed and glanced at you after seeing Gloria's smile. "If I travel with someone then you don't have to worry about me being alone! And Y/n is good. I can tell! And I've never ever been wrong before following my gut!"

She hummed again. "Well...It's true you were never wrong before..and Y/n's been nothing but a polite person." You were nervous as she rose a brow in thought. "And if you weren't alone I would feel better.....Oh. Alright. But at the first sign of trouble you call me immediately and get help."

"YES!! I promise, Mum! THANK YOU!! Not only am I starting my first journey but I got my own traveling buddy before I even start too!" She fist pumped. "Sucessful Jounrney to be champion is a go!!"

Wow. You didn't remember Gloria being so pumped up and energetic in game, but again, you shouldn't interfere so should you even go???....Well, it would be better to watch just to be sure thing's would progress like in game, and this way you wouldn't just aimlessly be walking around until you did go home.

"I....I guess I'm going with you then," you nervously smiled.

"YES!! Trust me you won't regret it! NOW!!" She pointed towards the door. "Onwards to Hop's house and to Leon! You'll love him! He's like the nicest, most chillest guy ever!...Even if he does have a bad sense of direction."

She smiled and went to the door and opened it, you following behind but stopping and glancing at Gloria's mother for a moment. "Hey..Um..I j-just wanted to say thanks f-f-for everything, Ma'am. I really, really appreciate it!"

Her mother smiled. "Not to worry. I know it must be difficult to lose everything to a pokemon. I feel the same way everytime Munchy chews up and destroys something of mine. You just take care and good luck to you on your journey."

You smiled before inhaling and exhaling and turning to the door. You had one goal ahead of you know. Travel with Gloria and help her succeed in becoming Champion no matter what. And get home...Easier said than done.

[itsnsfwalways]

Canyon Moon

FIC MASTERLIST

warnings for ch 3: mentions of drug use (weed), swearing, oral sex (m! and f! receiving), a hint of degradation if you squint

chapter 3: you’re so golden

The sun hitting your eyes was the first thing that woke you up, the warmth inviting, but also very bright. Scrunching you’re face up, you tug the blanket over your head, turning to the side and taking a deep breath in. You find giving your body a few minutes to wake up before you force yourself out of bed makes you feel so much more awake and in a good mood.

Stretching your back, you rub the sleep out of your eyes and roll out of bed, trudging to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth.

Yawning as you walk into the kitchen, you make yourself an iced coffee before starting on breakfast. Putting on Rumours, you sing quietly to yourself while making a scramble with a bunch of veggies to get your greens in early.

Heading back to your room with hot sauce in hand, you light some incense and take a few bong rips before eating your breakfast quietly on the window sill. That was something you absolutely LOVED about your room, the edge of the window was just wide enough for you to sit (or lay down) and admire the view of palm trees and beautiful blue skies.

Opening up Misery, you finish a few chapters and mindlessly eat for a bit, listening to the birds chirp and the buzz of the city waking up. Once you finish your food, you go sit cross legged on your meditation pillow, facing the floor length mirror as you make sure your posture is straight. Putting on your favorite meditation music, which, at the moment, is 432hz Healing Tones, you take a deep breath in, clearing your mind and allowing the sun and healing vibrations to roll over you. You imagine yourself breathing in healing energy and nothing but love, and exhaling all of the stuck, negative energy, trying to ‘push’ it out with your breath. Sometimes it felt a bit silly, but if it made you feel loads better, why not do it?

About twenty minutes pass before you slowly blink open your eyes, yawning quietly before going into child’s pose, stretching your back and hips after sitting for so long.

Lying down on your back on the mat, you stare up at the ceiling, feeling an overall sense of being okay. Your body feels good, your mind feels good, your stomach’s full of butterflies that make you smile and blush at the thought of seeing Harry in a bit.

Pulling yourself up with a grunt, you throw on a swim suit and a random pair of shorts, not caring to bring a real top. After applying a bit of sunscreen on your face and shoulders, you slide into your flip flops and fill up a water bottle before heading out the door.

Unlocking Sunflower, you sit on the edge of the side door while sliding on your scuffed white rollerskates with obnoxiously bright blue wheels. They were your pride and joys, and made you feel as if you were in a different time, enjoying the breeze on your cheeks as you skate towards your spot. The journey only took about 15 minutes, with minimal stumbles, so it was already turning out to be a great day.

Finally pulling up to the small lot, you squat down to pull of your skates, putting them behind a rock along with your socks and shorts. You shook your head as you sprinted towards the ocean, leaping into the freezing water. It was the only way you were able to get in, you were never one to wade slowly in. Swimming about half a mile out, the waves crash over you coolly, soothing your quickly warming body. It was going to be a hot day today, good to know. Treading water, you look at the coast, everything looking so small. You made sure to breathe in, capturing this exact moment in memory. The feeling of salty water on your skin, wet hair stuck to your neck and the slight burn in your arms, but this was it. This was pure bliss.

But, you’re also not insane, so after a bit you swim back to shore, spending about ten minutes doing handstands and flips before getting out, wringing out your hair on your way up the beach. Climbing up the pile of large rocks next to cliff, you lay on top of a relatively flat one, allowing your body to dry off for a little bit and give you a few extra moments of sun.

You always hated dusting off your feet for forever before getting back in your socks and skates, but rather that than get sand in them.

“Fuck, I really am killing it today,” you pant to yourself, definitely feeling a burning in your thighs as you start heading home, desperately wanting a shower and some chocolate.

Throwing your skates in Sunflower, you slam the door closed and trudge up the steps to the apartment, practically falling over as you enter the door.

Laura looks up from her phone, perched on the countertop eating a bowl of cereal.

“Look at you, sexy girl, how was the water?” She teases, handing you a banana from the counter immediately because she knows you need it.

“Good,” you sigh, taking a bite and moaning, leaning against the wall for a minute in silence.

“When’s your date with Harry again?” She asks, glancing at the clock.

Oh fuck.

The clock read 10:30.

“Okay, that’s not bad, I just need to get my ass in gear,” you convince yourself, throwing the banana away and grabbing a spoonful of peanut butter. You didn’t have time to make yourself anything else, plus you were eating with Harry soon anyways.

“You got this. Do I get to meet him?” Laura encourages, raising her thumbs at you.

You laugh and nod. “Absolutely, just don’t ask about his exes or I’m going to look crazy.”

“Got it, no exes. Get in the shower, you’re dripping everywhere!”

You run upstairs, yelling back, “I’ll clean it up,” as you head into your room, turning on Currents by Tame Impala to pump you up as you shower, quickly washing your hair and body, shaving the itty bitty stubble just in case.

Running some curl cream through your hair, you try and scrunch and dry your hair as fast as possible, which doesn’t really work, but at least you tried.

A bathrobe envelopes you as you sit down at your small vanity, starting on a little bit of makeup. Dabbing a bit of concealer on your undereyes and small blemishes, you keep it semi-natural with just bronzer, blush, and highlighter, admittedly a ton, but who’s to say. Brushing your brows out and filling in the ends a little darker, all that goes on your eyes is a brown eyeshadow and a beautiful gold pigment, then comes drenching your eyelashes in mascara.

You turn your attention back to your hair, thank god you were having extremely good luck today, because it fell perfectly, the layers framing your face so elegantly that you had to smile at your reflection. Self-love is a journey, and you were glad to be in a good space.

Checking your phone finally, you find a text from Harry, sent 2 hours ago. Whoops.

Good morning, Y/N, just wanted to make sure we’re still on for 12. Hope you slept well.

Well, it’s confirmed, you’re a completely asshole. It’s 11:15 and you still haven’t responded to a text about a date happening at NOON.

AHH IM SO SORRY hi harry ! i don’t check my phone for a while in the mornings, i’m the worst, i know. we definitely are still on, haha, noon still work for you ?

You throw your phone on your bed while you stare at your closet, trying to find a good outfit for today.

Eventually coming to a pair of high waisted white shorts that you got from your mom, thankfully having the same waistline as her in high school, and a light blue silk tank top with gold straps. Planning on wearing your black boots with the gold detailing, because, hey, it seems you’ve got to up your fashion game dealing with Harry, you place them next to your bedroom door before checking your phone.

You scared me for a minute, I was about to go eat a very sad lunch by myself. I’m going to start heading over, that alright by you?

You giggle quietly at his response, typing out,

sounds great :) i’m planning on wearing a pair of boots, should i bring sandals or anything ?

Woah, trying to outdress me?

He sends the next one moments later.

Just teasing, boots will be fine. We’re going to this cafe I really like.

of course i’m going to out dress you, who do you think i am ? and awesome !! see you in a bit !!

You grab a small black bag, putting your sunglasses case, gum, keys, wallet, chapstick, lighter, your dab pen (you never know), and a small rollerball perfume inside. Sliding in some gold hoops and placing your rings back on your fingers, you wiggle them a bit. They always look a bit naked without them on.

Putting on your boots, you head into the bathroom to brush your teeth once more before Harry arrives. But nope, the doorbell, rings as soon as you start brushing your molars.

“Shit,” you gasp, heading over to the door, toothbrush in hand.

You swing open the door and rush out, “Hey, Harry, I’ll be out in two seconds, come on in.”

Taking in his appearance, you grin at the white sunglasses pushed in his hair. Wearing a white t shirt, it’s tucked into a pair of blue pants that matches your shirt to a goddamn T, which you can’t help but laugh at as you walk away. Passing Laura in the hallway, you give her a look as she walks over to him.

Their conversation travels through your open door as you finish brushing your teeth.

“You must be Laura,” Harry starts, and you can just see him reaching his hand out.

“I am, it’s great to meet you,” she says, her smile bleeding into her voice.

“You have a beautiful home, so close to the beach too,” Harry compliments.

“Thank you, yeah, Y/N found this place forever ago and we’ve been living here since we moved out. My dad knew the landlord and they gave us a ridiculously low price for it, but I am not complaining.”

“Oh that’s sick, I’ve been in Malibu for just a bit, always kind of changing my location around LA and England.”

“That was what we thought we were going to do, but I definitely am glad we stayed here. Living in the city is fun and all, but it’s a lot, you know? We need our peace and quiet at home.”

You walk back out, purse and phone in hand, taking in their positioning. Laura’s sitting on a stool, cup of coffee in hand as Harry stands across from her, eyes on you as soon as you walked out.

“I’ll see you later,” you grin at Laura, sneaking another glance at Harry as you give her a quick hug.

“Okay, bye! Nice meeting you, Harry!” she smiles, and of course he replies with the same.

You close the door behind the two of you and he looks you up and down again, meeting your eyes and smiling.

“Hi,” you breathe out, his eyes capturing you immediately.

“Hi,” he whispers back, squeezing your exposed side. “You look really good, Y/N.”

You bite your lip to hide your smile, placing your hands on his shoulders, feeling the fabric (but really just his muscles). His hands immediately go to cup your waist, not pulling you in, just holding you.

“So do you. Like the blue,” you grin, moving your hands down to his waistband.

“Proper matching, I’d say,” he cheekily smiles, thumbs feeling the edge of your shirt’s material along your ribs, your breath hitching slightly at his movement.

You’re the first to pull away, moving your hand to lace your fingers together, tugging him gently down the stairs. He follows after you, squeezing your hand with his and shaking his head, trying to mask his smile by twitching his nose.

That gorgeous being of a car is parked in front of your house, the color alone bringing a smile to your lips, but now the top was down, which was about to make this a lot more fun.

“God, Harry, I might have to steal this from you,” you sigh, arms crossed as you look up at him seriously.

He laughs loudly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Maybe one day I’ll let you drive it,” He whispers, kissing the top of your head before pulling away and opening your door like nothing happened.

You stand there still for a moment before blinking and getting in, holding his hands on the door when he closes it. Turning your body, you lean out the door, placing your hands next to his as you whisper in his ear,

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

Sliding your lips along his cheek as you pull away, you plop back into the chair, putting on your sunglasses and messing with your hair a bit.

Harry clears his throat before walking around the car, sliding into the driver’s side and starting the car.

“Do you want to play music?” He slowly asks, his tone sending shivers down your legs.

You perk up at this, nodding quickly and taking the aux cord from him.

“I’d love to. Have you heard of Tash Sultana? They released an EP a few years ago, their voice is incredible. They make all their own loops and play every instrument by themselves.”

Harry gives you a side eye, grinning as he says,

“That’s some pretty new music for you, princess.”

Your lips part slightly and Harry watches closely as your cheeks flush, licking the side of his mouth with a grin.

“Have I found a nickname you like, Y/N?” His voice has raised slightly, obvious excitement in his expression.

“Only sometimes,” you shrug, trying to play that off as cool as possible. “And yeah, my ex actually introduced me to their music.”

Harry raises his eyes at this, bringing a finger to his lips to hold his laugh in.

“Why the fuck did I say that?” Your hands go up to your face as Harry finally laughs at you, turning the volume down just a little to listen to you.

Sighing for a second, you pull your hands away before blurting out,

“I don’t want you to think that I’m lying to you about not knowing your music or you, because I do listen to stuff released now, obviously. I’m not a music snob or one of those too cool for school people because I absolutely blast SZA when I’m drunk and I’m starting to overthink and-“

Harry cuts you off by taking your jaw in his hand, turning your face towards him. Perfect timing, as always, pulling up to a red light right when he needs it.

“Hey,” he whispers with a smile, stroking your cheek. “I don’t think that you’re lying to me, and I understand. I was kind of a dick for saying all that right away to be honest, but I get it. I listen to mostly oldies too, if I really think about it.”

You exhale, looking up at him.

“Okay. I’m still going to freak out about it and make sure you know.”

He squeezes your jaw slightly, scrunching his nose.

“No,” he cutely protests, and you can’t help but giggle.

He smiles in return and lets your jaw go, hands going back to grip the wheel a little bit tighter

The two of you drive for a little bit, not really saying anything. You can’t help but dance in your seat to the beat, silently mouthing the lyrics to yourself. Harry keeps glancing over at you, too, grinning at the way you blush when he notices you doing it.

“How was your morning so far?” You start, just wanting to hear him talk.

He has to talk a little bit louder over the wind, but he’s happy to get the conversation started.

“Quite good actually. I’m going to Cabo in a couple weeks and was just getting some early packing in. Don’t you hate when you go somewhere and realize you forgot something like a toothbrush at home?”

“It’s the worst, I always end up having to go to a corner store and get something. What’s in Cabo?” You ask, already so amazed at his lifestyle.

“Friend of mine is having a birthday, so we’re there for a bit celebrating, going to be an amazing trip. Happy to be here, though,” he adds, eyes flicking to yours as he says it.

“I’d be worried if you weren’t.”

“What about you? How was your morning?”

“Really good. Sorry about not texting you back for so long, by the way. I just have this thing about using technology right after I wake up, it gives me pretty bad headaches so I go as long as I can without it unless I hear it ring. But it was super productive, I got a good breakfast and read in, meditated a bit, skated to the beach and went for a swim, then got ready for this.”

“You put me to shame, Y/N, you really do.” Harry laughs, running a hand through his hair.

“I just woke up in a really good mood. I can definitely be grumpy in the morning, I’ll tell you that,” you try to explain, scared of feeling too pretentious.

“Yeah? I can see you throwing a fit if someone wakes you up before you’re ready,” Harry nonchalantly says, looking at the rings on his fingers before checking your reaction.

Cheeks hot, you feel almost scolded by him, thankful for the large sunglasses on your face.

“You’re not wrong,” you finally agree, crossing your legs smoothly.

That doesn’t go unnoticed by Harry, reaching a hand down to rest on your thigh almost immediately. His large hand wraps around your skin, thumb immediately starting to go in small circles.

“I started meditating a few years ago but I absolutely love it, I feel like it allows you to start the morning off right.”

Taking a deep breath before answering, you nod and say,

“Completely agree. It still can feel a bit weird doing it when I’m in a mood or anything, but whether you believe in it or not, having all that negative energy in you without doing anything about it isn’t good for you.”

“You’re quite cute when you talk about things you like. Light up like a little sun,” Harry smirks, pulling his sunglasses up to look at you, the piece of gum in his teeth allowing his jawline to be even more prominent. You do the same, placing them in your lap as you uncross your legs, his hand staying on your left thigh as it goes back towards the seat.

“Yeah?” You don’t stop looking at him, watching his eyes flit between you and the road.

Harry hums before adding, “I think you know that though.”

“That I’m quite arguably the epitome of all things golden? Of course, but it’s always nice to hear.”

You make a noise of protest as Harry removes his thigh to make a left, while simultaneously laughing at you.

“You are absolutely golden, love, don’t you forget it.”

He pauses for a moment before starting again.

“I’m going to warn you right now that there might be some photos taken of you when we go in or leave, or fans coming to take pictures. If that bothers you-“

Cutting him off quickly, you sit up, shaking your head.

“I dressed cute for a reason, if it happens it happens. I’m going to be pissed if someone comes for my outfit though.” You giggle at yourself and grab Harry’s hand, squeezing it gently. “I know what I’m signing up for. You’re good.”

Squeezing back, he looks down at his lap for a moment before glancing back at you, eyes so sincere your heart clenches a little.

“Thank you. Just... need a little reminder sometimes too.”

Unlacing your fingers, you stick your pinkie out, swearing, “I promise that I will always remind you that you’re not going to cause me any problems, and I’m not going to do the same. You promise to always remind me I’m golden?”

“‘Course, love. Was gonna do that anyways,” Harry chuckles, intertwining your fingers, heartbeat going just a little bit faster.

He couldn’t explain it, didn’t want to admit it to himself even, but your presence made his world just a little bit brighter. He couldn’t get you out of his mind, your smile, giggle, and sweet-smelling perfume was all he could think about since last night. His brain was trying to come up with reasons why this was a bad idea, how you could be using him, you were going to break his heart and leave without a second glance. But one look at your face, those eyes looking at him with so much wonder, made him hate the part of himself looking for excuses. These feelings felt way too much, too fast, but all he knew was he wanted to call you his girl. His sweet Y/N.

Parking his car next to some trees, he runs over to open your door, helping you step out and shutting the door behind you, placing the cover on the car quickly. The two of you walk into the cafe in silence, arms swaying next to each other. You figured he wasn’t comfortable holding hands in public on the first date.

The atmosphere of the Beachwood Cafe was everything you could want in a coffee shop. Absolutely stunning artwork covering the walls, a checkerboard floor, fun colors splattered all over. Your face must show how excited you were because you feel Harry bump you, grinning down at you. You hum, smile on your cheeks as he holds your face in his hands for a second.

“Like it?” You nod happily at his question, following the waitress to your table, one in the furthest corner from the door.

“Can I start you off with some drinks?” She asks, setting menus in front of the two of you. Harry gestures for you to go first and you quirk an eyebrow before turning.

“Can I please get a large iced coffee with some honey? Thank you so much,” you add, looking Angie, her nametag reads, in the eye.

“And for you?”

“A large iced americano would be wonderful, thank you, love.” Flashing that award-winning smile at her, she writes down his order and heads back to the front.

“This place is really cute, Harry,” you gush. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

His chest tightens at your cute face looking at him from across the table, the amount of gratitude coming from you at all times filling him with light.

“‘Course, honey. You don’t have to thank me,” He earnestly tells you, placing his chin in his hand.

“I know, but I feel like I need to,” you trail off, looking at one of the names of the scrambles on the menu. Snapping your eyes back up to him, Harry can tell where you’re going with this.

“Please don’t,” he half-laughs, half begs.

“But it’s so easy,” you pout, grinning when he sighs and waves his hand for you to continue.

“Should I ask how strong the Weid scramble is going to hit?”

Groaning into his palm, Harry tries his hardest not to laugh, but can’t help one escaping when you kick him under the table.

“Satisfied?”

“Very,” you nod, looking over the menu once more. “Have you had the Thai noodle salad? That looks hella good.”

“It is ‘hella’ good,” Harry teases, using quotation marks in the air.

“Right then, love, what’re you getting?” You respond in a British accent, folding up your menu.

“Probably the Brussels sprouts salad, it’s my usual here.”

You open your mouth to say something before your drinks are placed in front of you, Angie asking if the two of you are ready to order. Harry goes ahead and orders for the two of you, delicately grabbing the menu from your hands to hand it back to her with a charming smile on his face. Watching her walk away, you grab your drink, lifting it for a cheers.

“To living,” you simply state, Harry repeating it with a look in his eyes you can’t quite name.

“So,” you start, adjusting your position in your seat for a second. “You said you’re writing for your second album, right?”

Harry nods, licking his lips as he pulls away from his glass, catching the way your eyes wander to his mouth.

“Sort of. I want to, you know, take a break, try and just have some fun, rather than jump straight into writing and recording again. At the same time, I really fucking miss it. Writing and being in the studio and getting all that out just feels so good.”

The way his accent wraps around his words makes it hard for you to focus on what he’s saying all the way, realizing he’s waiting on you to respond.

“I definitely think you could use some down time. But that also doesn’t mean you have to stop making music. Write out your ideas when they come to you, and when you feel like you’re ready, start pumping them all out. I’m willing to bet $100 that you already have at least a few songs under your belt, though, am I wrong?” You grin at the headshake Harry gives you, catching the blush on his cheeks. “I knew it! We all do, it’s impossible to just not write, but don’t worry about timelines or due dates. You can’t rush art.”

“God, it’s just so good to hear out loud, I feel like you already know me,” Harry shakes his head, pushing his hair away from his face with one hand.

“I’m pretty good at reading people, I’d like to say,” your arm raising above you as you stretch a little, tilting your head from side to side.

Seeing your neck arch and the way your veins move slightly under your skin causes Harry to have to clear his throat a little, taking a sip of his drink as he feels his forehead start to sweat.

“What kind of artists do you normally write for?” He blurts out, trying to figure out how to get to know more about you in a roundabout way.

“If you’re offering me a job, I’m walking out right now,” you warm, raising your eyebrows. “Kidding. I don’t know, really, I write for a lot of my friends, like I said, when they need help on some of their own projects, or if I’m hanging out in the studio I get pulled around the rooms for a different set of ears. Working with Khalid was one of my favorite experiences, though, he was so fucking cool.”

Harry’s eyes sparkle at this, perking up.

“Love Khalid. He is so talented, and hilarious. I swear, my stomach was aching after being with him for a little while. I only asked because I think I’m trying to figure you out a bit. I just wanna get to know ya,” He shrugs, fingertips tapping on his glass.

“I wish you good luck on that task, Harry, I really do. The first step in recovering is admitting you need help,” you solemnly nod, bursting out laughing when he rolls his eyes and ATTEMPTS to hide his smile.

Your food is placed in front of you suddenly, and you jump, glaring at Harry for smirking at your reaction. He couldn’t help it, you were like a little puppy, overexcited and always jumping from place to place. Harry starts eating right away, sending you a quizzical look when you sit with your hands in your lap, almost like you’re waiting for something.

“You going to start eating, honey?” He gently presses, snapping you out of wherever you went.

“Sorry,” you blush, grabbing your fork and shaking your head a little. “I don’t know what the fuck that was about.”

Fuck, yes you did, and Harry knew that. You were waiting for his permission, and that thought alone sent you into a daze. Closing your eyes around the fork, you fought off the urge to moan and tried to push the fact that he already holds so much control over you out of your head. Snapping them open, you find Harry’s eyes on you, the look in them dangerous. Clearing your throat, you whisper, “It’s really good,” which Harry responds with a simple hum, leaning forward on his elbows towards you.

“You tell me if this is too forward or too much, yeah?”

Your lips part as you nod your head, not really ready for what’s about to cross his lips.

“I’ve been noticing certain... things that you do and, well, are you a sub, darling?”

Your throat dries, unable to break eye contact or even speak, only nodding when he squints his eyes a little at you. Fuck, this was not happening, you thought, reaching to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Like to hear that pretty voice of yours, yeah?” Harry urges you, hands fighting off the urge to hold your jaw in his fingertips.

“Yeah,” you sigh, taking a swig of coffee to think of something to say. “I’m going to assume you’re a dominant,” pausing to let Harry nod, jaw moving as he chews. You throw your hands up, leaning back in your seat.

“You are the complete package, Harry, shit.”

He laughs at this, covering his mouth quickly. “‘S’all you. A dream, really.”

Your heart flutters at this, shit, no, this is a FIRST date, you cannot be feeling like this. Taking a bite of your food, you are able to just sit back and look at him. Watch how he sticks his tongue out while he puts a bite in his mouth, something you’ve done since you were a kid for no reason. How his hands look almost sinful holding the white napkin to his lips.

“Staring at me, love,” he comments after a few minutes, his eyes looking at you sweetly, like he didn’t mind, but just needed to call you out.

“Merde, je veux te sucer,” you breathe out in French, banking on him not understanding you.

“Viliane,” Harry tuts, clicking his tongue at you. Before you’re able to answer, Harry is handing his card to the waitress who passed your table, asking for two boxes for your meals.

Your eyes snap to his, all the oxygen leaving your body as he brings your plate his side, getting ready to pack it up for you.

“W-Where?” Is all you manage, drinking the rest of your coffee, before setting it down on the table, a drop of honey falling down your lip. Harry can’t help but swipe it off with his thumb, slowly placing it in his mouth afterwards, not breaking eye contact, with you.

“I live nearby. That alright with you?”

Nodding slowly, you sit quietly in the booth as Angie comes back with the check and two boxes, legs bouncing excitedly as Harry packages the food up.

“Come on, lovely, let’s get out of here,” he tells you, holding you by your elbow as you walk outside, heading straight for the car. He doesn’t bother taking the top off, opening your door for you without a word and shutting it, almost sprinting to the driver’s side.

His hand finds your thigh immediately, rings shocking the delicate skin and making your muscles tense, his fingers quickly moving to massage out these aches.

“You wanna give me a safeword, pretty girl?” His voice drips with confidence, his hands moving closer to where you needed him most. His eyes keep flickering back to you while trying to focus on the road. His curls are a mess around his sunglasses, the brown hair swallowing up most of the eye ware. A pinch on your thigh reminds you that he expects an answer, shaking your body out slightly before answering.

“The stoplight system’s good. Green, I’m good, yellow, slow down or take a break, red, stop everything. What kind of dom are you, Harry?” You push, wanting to know what you’re getting yourself into. You had done a lot of kinky stuff in the past, and there were some things you weren’t a fan of.

“Mm, I’m relatively easy going. Not going to give you any rules, unless we’re playing and have a scene set up. But,” he pauses to exhale harshly, “I’m quite mean, love. I like to take control, pick you apart bit by bit until you’re just trembling under me, can’t say anything but my name. How does that sound, puppy? Tell me now how you like it.”

His voice sends shivers throughout your body and you moan quietly, biting your lip to try and stifle it. Harry’s words circle around your brain, your stomach tightening with need. All the air seems to escape you, but you know he wants an answer.

“G-good. I like it rough, dirty, just wanna please you,” you stutter out, chest rising and falling rapidly. You absent-mindedly rub your fingers against your neck, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe while thinking about what he’s saying.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he moans, removing his hand from your thigh to place it behind your neck, squeezing it in his grasp. He knows what you want, even if he’s driving, he’s able to pick up on any little signals your body makes. Your back arches as you let out a breathy moan, eyes slipping closed.

“Tell me, princess,” he starts, squeezing the side of your throat to make you open your eyes and pay attention to him. “What do you want to happen when we get back to my house? Don’t want to go too far too soon.”

“Fuck, Harry, I just really want to suck you off, please, please, please,” you beg, a tear actually falling from your eye as you look at him. His pupils dilate at your words, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows harshly, mouth suddenly dry,

“Y/N,” he growls, reaching a hand to squeeze his growing bulge in his pants. His tanned hands and dark rings contrast the bright color, adding to your ever growing list of things that Harry does that turns you on.

The car pulls up to a gate and you sit there for a few seconds before Harry is buzzed in, probably driving way too fast back to his house. Parking in his driveway, he finally releases his hand from your neck and exits the car, making his way around to open your door. Holding your hand as you exit, he places his hand on your low back to guide you into the gorgeous home, the size of it taking your breath away. Harry gives you no time to admire it, shutting the door behind him with a slam before bringing his hand up your chest to rest on your throat, slamming you into the wall. He slips a leg in between yours and takes your hip in his free hand, guiding you to start grinding on his thigh. Your face flushes with heat as he tightens his grip.

“Know you wanna suck me off, but will you cum for me first? Don’t want this pretty cunt to go to waste.”

Your head rolls back and hits the wall, hips stuttering at his words, eliciting a chuckle from Harry as he leans in, breath hitting your lips before he envelopes them, encouraging you to start grinding faster. His tongue runs along your bottom lip, prying them open to lick into your mouth, your moans being instantly swallowed by him. Pulling away slowly, he maintains eye contact with you as he removes his hand from your throat to slip two fingers into your mouth. Feeling your wet mouth on him, sucking his fingers with such need, Harry groans lowly, removing his fingers to kiss you even harder, hands making quick work of removing your shorts.

“Such a naughty girl, can’t even wait to get to the bedroom, just has to have me feel you right here, hmm?” Harry scolds, removing his lips from yours to suck a mark into your neck, fingers moving to feel your wetness through the cloth underwear. Your hands wrap around his curls as you shakily inhale, resting your forehead on his to moan out lowly.

“Fuck, Harry,” you sigh, feeling him rub along your folds through the fabric, pushing it ever-so-slightly inside of you. His mouth pulls away from you with a pop, only to bite down on the red skin harshly, working his way up to your mouth once more. He bumps his nose against yours and opens his mouth to move his tongue past your lips. Your head is spinning, breath ragged as you suck his tongue with yours, feeling the vibrations in your mouth when he moans lowly, pulling a whimper from you.

Suddenly, he drops to his knees, pulling the thong down with him. You swallow at the change in pace and allow him to help you step out of them.

“Wanna take your boots off, sweet girl?” He checks, kissing your inner thigh softly as you lean fully against the wall. You think for a second, these were pretty comfortable, pretty solid grip, why not stay in them?

“‘S okay. Perfect height for you,” you breathe, bucking your hips up. He doesn’t even wait a second to smack your pussy, grabbing your thighs to spread you even wider.

“Filthy, you are,” he growls, licking a long stripe from your hole to your clit, a gasp immediately falling from your lips. He looks up at you and grins, licking long stripes through your folds, almost like he’s trying to remember how you feel. He takes his time catching your wetness slowly, despite the little gasps and moans coming from you. Flicking his tongue over your clit for a second, he pulls back to blow cool air on it, the motion causing your legs to falter for a second.

“Gotta stay still, okay? Can’t have you falling over,” he spits directly on your core as he says this, looking up at you with his jaw hanging slightly open, loving the way your hands go to your hair to find something to grab on. He smirks to himself, licking into you while his hands find your hips, pinching the delicate skin between his fingertips. He collects as much of you and his spit on his tongue as he can, swallowing around your clit after he sucks it into his mouth. The suction makes your hips fight to buck up into him, but you use all of your strength to stay still, causing your thighs to start quivering in his palms. Harry grins and scrapes his teeth along your clit, your loud moan going directly to his quickly hardening cock.

“Taste so fucking good, angel,” he groans, nose rubbing against your clit as he fucks his tongue into you, the soft muscle dragging along your walls and guiding your wetness into his mouth. The sounds coming from him are obscene, loud slurping, sucking, and spitting onto your trembling pussy.

“Fuck, Harry, I’m not going to last,” you cry out, feeling yourself start to clench around him. He grins around you, pulling away to thumb at your clit and look directly into your eyes.

“Mm, that’s not how good girls ask,” is all Harry gives you, slipping a finger inside and immediately curling it towards himself, finding your g-spot with ease. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking harshly while his tongue draws designs on the sensitive button.

“Please, Sir, can I come?”

This has Harry moaning against you, pinching your clit between his teeth as he slides another finger in, fucking into you faster. Your eyes roll back, one hand splayed against the wall, another in his hair to give you some sort of balance. He relentless massages and thrusts into your g-spot with his fingers, feeling you clench around them so tightly that his head starts to spin. “That’s it, puppy, ask me again,” he demands, the title you gave him sending shivers throughout his body. He sucks harder on your clit, somehow speeding up his fingers inside you. A moan vibrates against your center when you pull on his curls, your hips bucking up against his waiting hand.

“Sir, please please please can I come? I’ve been so good, haven’t moved,” you beg, gasping loudly when your legs start to shake noticeably. Harry pulls away, looking up at you and grunting out,

“You have been such a good girl, haven’t you? Go. Cum, now, right fucking now on my tongue.” A loud slapping noise is heard when Harry smacks your ass, the pain sending you over the edge. Your head hits the wall with a thud, but your moan drowns everything out, the guttural sound coming from your soul. Tilting your head back, you cum into his mouth, one leg slipping out from under you and Harry places it on his shoulder without a second thought, holding you up as you ride out your orgasm. The tightness in your stomach releases and your pussy trembles around his fingers, only encouraging him to continue the constant pressure on your g-spot.The strength of it knocks the wind out of you and sends electricity throughout your finger tips, your hips slowing down their rocking motion as Harry eases his fingers out of you. He continues to lick you clean before placing your shaky legs back on the ground together, trailing his hands up your body as he stands up.

“Thank you,” you breathe into his chest, holding on to his hips for balance. His chuckle vibrates against your cheek, and you feel him move your hair out of the way to kiss your shoulder.

“Of course, lovely. How you feeling?” He is all smiles, his voice gentle and caring as he breathes in your smell, leaving small kisses along your neck.

“G-good,” you stutter out, nudging his head to make eye contact with you. He pulls away after a second, one arm going around your waist when he notices how you’re practically falling over with how shaky your legs are. Smirking, he places his other hand on your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss. Tasting yourself on his tongue was too much for you, whining into his mouth before pulling away.

“Can I suck you off now?” You ask shyly, using your best puppy dog eyes. And, wow, do they work. Harry groans, biting your bottom lip harshly before pulling away, not wasting a second before pushing down on your shoulders. You topple to the ground easily, landing surprisingly softly (thanks to Harry’s expert hands), on the hardwood floor. After helping him remove your shirt, you place your hands behind your back immediately and tuck your chin down, grinning to yourself when you hear the moan Harry let’s out at your position.

“Spoiled little girl. Gets everything and more that she asks for, hmm, yes?” Harry demands, tugging your chin up by his hands. His eyes are pointed, staring directly into yours, pupils blown out and hair a mess behind him. You can see the pieces stuck to his forehead from sweat, but his chin glistens with something that has to be you.

“Yes, sir, so good to me. Wanna make you feel good, please,” you beg, leaning closer into him, the difference in clothing setting you into a daze, seeing him fully dressed while you’re waiting on your knees in front of him, naked, panting, and pleading to have his cock down your throat.

“Greedy,” he sighs, taking his hand away from your face to slide off his shirt, tossing it to the growing pile of clothes on the floor. He keeps his eyes trained on yours, daring you to avert them as he unzips his pants, stepping out of them. He looks away for a second to pull of his boots, and you take your time admiring his thighs, because, fuck. They were thick, muscled, tanned, and the little tattoos on them were asking to be bitten, you made a mental note to do that later.

“Got a bit of a staring problem, love.”

Harry’s voice snaps you out of your daydream, eyes flickering back up to him, mouth dropping open when he’s bare in front of you, slowly stroking himself. You involuntarily make a little noise in the back of your throat, sticking your tongue out for good measure. Seeing Harry’s hips thrust up into his hand and his neck vein pop was confirmation enough for you, but you waited for him to put himself in your mouth, absolute torture you must say.

Harry finally takes mercy on you, moaning out, “God, you’re such a little cockslut, just want something in that fucking mouth of yours. Bet I could leave my fingers in there all day and you wouldn’t complain once,” when he eases himself into your open mouth.

You flatten your tongue on the underside of him, not breaking eye contact as you slide off his cock to lick at his tip with feather light touches, drawing figure eights along the top. Suckling lightly on just the head, you feel a spurt of precum land on your tongue, licking it up happily. Tearing your eyes away from his, you open up your throat to begin taking him deeper, feeling his hand immediately come to your hair as you do this.

“Yes,” Harry draws out, allowing you to take control for a moment. You wanted to suck him off, so who is he to tell you how to do it? The view is what is killing him the most, though. Your tits bouncing as you slurp him down, spit falling onto your thighs, your little bit of stomach pudge falling over as you completely lose yourself in making him feel good. That is what gets him to buck into your mouth, closing his eyes and biting his bottom lip, breathing heavily as he begins to thrust into you. You pull away after a moment, jerking him off steadily as you swallow and look up at him.

“You can fuck my throat. Don’t have much of a gag reflex, anyways. Wanna see how you like it, Sir,” you pant, not giving him any time to think before you take him back into your mouth, placing your hand on the wrist that’s in your hair, giving him another okay.

“God, Y/N, you’re heavenly,” Harry breathes, testing out the waters by doing some shallow thrusts, only then beginning to actually throat-fuck you. He places his other hand around your neck, essentially pulling you into his throat and choking you from both ways. Your eyes roll into the back of your throat and you place your nose against his belly, breathing in deeply. Harry pulls himself out of you, rubbing his cock against your cheeks.

“Feel so good,” he draws out, easing himself back into your waiting mouth, rubbing the head on the ridges on the roof of your mouth. He moans through closed lips and tilts his head back, giving you the chance to admire his strong jawline from this angle, body sculpted by Michaelangelo himself. He had no room to call you all these beautiful names while he looked this fucking good getting his cock sucked.

You start speeding up your bobs, keeping him deep in your throat and only picking up a little, the change in pressure earning you a tug on your roots when Harry pulls you to look up at him.

“Mm, you want me to cum, don’t you, dirty girl,” he grunts, a lazy grin on his now flushed face. His thumbs make their way to press on either side of your cheek, moaning lowly when he feels himself through the tissue.

You hum around him, using your tongue along the vein you can feel, looking up at Harry with such need in your eyes. You pull off for a quick second, gasping loudly while saying,

“Want you to come in my mouth so bad, want to taste you and make you feel as good as you made me,” Taking him back in your mouth and sucking him off with a vice-like grip.

“Fuck,” Harry half-laughs, half-moans. “You’re incredible. Gonna make me come so fast, you’re taking me so fucking deep.”

Not even a minute later, you feel him begin to pulse in your mouth, pulling back to just suck on the head, using your tongue to dip into the hole, and Harry cums with a loud shout, burying his cock down your throat as he shoots ribbon after ribbon of come into you. You keep your eyes at his face, remembering how his mouth looks wide open, his eyes pinched closed, hair making a perfect halo around him. His throat makes you want to cry, the veins popping out and slightly red. He stays in your mouth for a while, allowing you to suck him dry and soften slightly, before pulling out of you with a pop.

“Thank you,” you croak out, swallowing what’s left in your mouth and leaning into his touch, quite spent if you were being honest.

Harry had to look away for a second, moving his hand to hold your head while he caught his breath. You were right about being golden, your skin shone, and you just radiated everything good in this world, right after he had his cock balls deep down your throat nonetheless.

“You’re too much, beauty. Thank you, did such a good job,” he gushes, kneeling down. He takes your chin inbetween his fingers and kisses you softly, just barely moving his lips. He leans his forehead against yours and wipes your lip with his thumb, allowing you to suck the bit of cum still on your face off with a blush tinting your cheeks.

“Reminds me of this morning, a bit,” he giggles, laughing louder as you hit him in the chest, grumbling ‘dumb’. He pushes your hair out of the way and holds your face in his two hands, effectively shutting you up as you breathe in deeply, feeling strangely comfortable being this vulnerable with him this fast.

“Do you wanna take a bath with me right now? Know you were on shaky legs and this hard floor for a while,” he pouts, kissing your forehead softly. You nod slowly and he smiles, nodding against you before pulling away to unzip your shoes, placing them next to the wall before he’s picking you up with way too much ease, pulling a shriek from you.

“‘Sorry, love, your poor legs okay?” he asks, holding you to his chest with one arm, using the other to hold your thigh. He receives another nod to the shoulder and he nuzzles you, trying to see what’s happening.

“I’m okay, just tired,” you sigh, and he murmurs an ‘okay’ kissing your temple before allowing you to sink back onto him, making a mental note to ask you about it once you’ve got your breath back.

“Why don’t you go turn on that shower and wash yourself real quick with some warm water and I’ll have the bath ready when I join you, that okay?” Harry whispers, sliding you down slowly. He pushes you toward the large glass door and you smile back at him, your heart bursting with appreciation.

This one is going to change you.

A/N: and that’s a wrap !! lemme know if you guys prefer this kind of phrasing (‘you said’), or if you like ‘she said’, or ‘i said’ better. this is my first time working with a full story using y/n and second/third person kind of view, so pls bear with me. also !! i know some people aren’t really cool with weed. im a ~stoner~ (such a weird thing to type out lmao) so i smoke a lot, but if y’all aren’t comfortabke with me mentioning it p much every other chapter, let me know !! (it can even be anonymously sent in) hope you liked it, and let me know if you have any other requests for future chapters or just one shots💗💗

- lana💔

[walkerwords]

“By Firelight” Rick Grimes x F!Reader

Word Count: 2143

Summary: After escaping Terminus, you and the other survivors are on the run. You are a bit of a loner, but Rick has had his eye on your for a bit. Though, you’ve been pushing him away because you don’t think you deserve him. One night on watch, you finally take that jump in the light of the fire.

Warning: None

Song I Wrote To: “Murder Song (5,4,3,2,1)” by AURORA

Note: This is just a short thing I wrote. It is loosely based on the Halsey song: I HATE EVERYBODY and includes some of the lyrics. I am currently workin in Bowman’s sister part II so look out for that. Okay, good night. also if there are typos im sorry im like half awake right now.

------ 

The group walked all day.

You kept ahead with Carl, who just walked with you and didn’t try to talk. Being on the run together for as long as you had, you didn’t need to have conversations, it was enough to just walk alongside each other as friends while keeping a look out for any threats.

You kept your weapon ready and whenever you came across the Dead, you would take them out. Abraham and Rosita were at the rear of the group, looking for stragglers that anyone missed and everyone in between was vigilant. It was a functioning system that had worked for the many months that you all had been traveling together. 

As day turned to night, You started to head back to the main group. Carl had gone back a few hours before to check on Judith and give Rick a break so you were scouting solo. You retraced your steps and found them easily enough. Approaching Rick, you lowered your weapon.

“There’s an old hunter’s shack just up ahead. Plenty of space for us to set up camp outside and get Judith inside in case she starts crying,” you told him, glancing at the giggling baby that Maggie now held. Rick nodded, looking you over.

“And its (Y/L/N) approved?” he asked with a slick smile on his face. You rolled your eyes. 

“Yes, plenty of vantage points and it backs up to a cliff not too far away so I can watch all the directions.”

“You should be watching the inside of your eyelids,” Rick said, giving you a look of concern. “You need sleep, (Y/N).”

“I slept last night,” you reminded him. 

“You work too hard,” he said, gesturing to the bloody spear you held that was soaked in Walker blood.

“Yeah, well, someone has to,” you said and turned away to lead the group to the camp for the night. 

You kept watch as Carl got Judith settled into the small shack, trying his best to keep her shielded from the elements. Around you, the rest of the group began setting up for the night. You caught Gabriel looking at you, but you ignored him. He knew you didn’t trust him. Hell, nobody really trusted the priest. There was just something about him that just pissed you off.

Daryl handled the firewood as always. He always came trudging back into camp with logs stacked high in his arms. They all had parts to play in their group and while you knew that Daryl was just as skilled in a fight as you were, he had been trying to take care of everyone lately. You figured it was to keep his mind off of Beth.  

As the night went on, Tara and Glenn made sure you had something to eat. You ate your portion in silence at the edge of the camp, keeping your ears open for threats in the surrounding trees. There had been a time where you weren’t as sharp and that had led to multiple deaths on your part even before you hooked up with Rick’s group at the prison.

You hadn’t seen the five Walkers and they had killed six of your people, tore them to shreds before your eyes. It had been Rick who had killed the last Walker and tried to convince you it wasn’t your fault, inviting you back to the prison, but you knew the truth: every death was on you.

At least, that’s what it felt like.

You leaned against a nearby tree, your back to the North that had the cliff. Unless the Dead could suddenly fly, nothing would be coming from that direction. Your knives were sheathed to your thighs and your spear lay next to you at the ready. Pulling the tie from your hair, you let your locks loose and scratched at your scalp. You really needed to wash your hair, it was starting to smell worse than the Dead. 

Sitting there, your mind started to wander, thinking of a conversation you had had with Noah the other day. 

Since the incident with the Governor and then at Terminus, you had started to become more reckless. Noah was concerned about you and what you were doing with your life.

You took on too many Walkers at once, barged into buildings without making noise first, and even threw yourself on top of a Walker to save Maggie who clearly didn’t need the help. Whenever someone tried to talk to you about your actions, you pushed them away. Noah said that it seemed like you hated everybody.

In truth, you hated yourself, not everybody. Because if you truly hated everybody, why did you stay and why were you always looking to make sure you weren’t alone? Why were you always looking for Rick?

Rick had always been there, watching you, making sure you were okay. It was always him. You knew that he looked out for you, but lately the two of you had grown closer. It was obvious to everyone. Michonne has even asked you if the two of you had been together at some point. There was a part of you that wished that was true and based on some of the looks Rick gave you, it seemed he wanted it to.

However, you were worried about becoming distracted, no matter how much you wanted the man. And if your own emotions and self guilt were threatening to overcome you, that wouldn’t help anyone. You had to be strong for your people and breaking down over your own fucked up problems would not help anyone. So you kept your eyes on your people and made sure they were safe.

As the fire slowly died down and people around you were snoring peacefully, you listened to the world around you, reading every sound like a word in a book. Analyzing the sharp sounds of a nearby bird or the way a branch snapped in a quick breeze. You could identify a threat and a harmless natural occurrence faster than anybody else, except maybe Daryl. It was why nobody argued with you when you kept watch. 

A sound to your right had your hand sliding to your thigh, but you let it drop when you realized who was approaching. Rick moved through the dark, nearly invisible, but his boots was what gave him away. As well as his smell which was a mixture of dirt, blood, and pine needles. He didn’t say anything as he sat down next to you, keeping his eyes forward. His fingers fiddled with a few pieces of dry grass.

“Judith okay?” You asked quietly in the darkness. Rick turned to look at you as his hands stilled. 

“She’s fine,” Rick said. “Carl is with her, Glenn and Maggie too.” 

“That’s good,” you said, letting out a breath. 

After a few more minutes of silence, Rick slowly moved his hand to where you had a grip on one of your weapons. You hadn’t even realized you had been holding onto it that tight.

Without a word, he gently loosened your fingers around the blade’s handle and let your hand fall to the ground. His hand lay next to yours, not wanting to intrude any further, but you did something that surprised him. You slowly laced your fingers between his, feeling the warmth of his palm in yours. 

Rick didn’t move or even question it, he just sat there, breathing in the moment. You sighed, letting your head fall back against the rough bark of the tree. Slowly, your thumb began rubbing small circles on the back of Rick’s hand. You could hear his breathing start to match yours as if you were in tandem. It was peaceful. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked after a moment of silence. 

“Nothing,” you whispered, keeping you eyes on the dying embers before you. 

“You may not think I notice when you’re upset, but I do. I notice a lot more than you think.” Rick shuffled slightly closer, your shoulders now touching and your hand resting on his thigh. The tears came back at his words and he waited for you to speak. 

“I’m broken, Rick,” you began. He didn’t correct you or disagree, he just listened while holding your hand. “I’ve been keeping up this facade that I don’t care about anything and that I hate everyone around me, but it’s not me. It’s not true. I just can’t… I don’t know how to do this.” 

“Do what?” he asked gently. You looked at him as the tears flowed down your face. 

“Be alone.” 

“Who says you have to be?” he asked. “Why do you think that you need to be alone in all of this?” 

“It’s easier,” you admitted. 

“No, it’s not,” he whispered. “Blocking people out and going off your own is the opposite of easy. We need people, especially now. We need each other, (Y/N), We need you,” he paused and tightened his grip on your hand. “I need you.” 

You looked at him through your tears, tilting your head as you always did when you were thinking. “Why?” you whispered. He knew what you were asking without having you explain. 

“Because you smell of lavender and you like bad country music and hate when people walk slow,” he said with a small smile. “Because you call me out on my bullshit and you keep us safe. (Y/N), you are not broken, you’re the one thing that is keeping us together, keeping me together. You say you hate everybody, but maybe you don’t. Maybe you just haven’t found the right somebody.” Rick let his words sink in. He watched your face the best he could in the low light of the moon. You were thinking over everything he said and he was glad that you weren’t running.

Then, you took back your hand. Rick sighed, figuring you were going to tell him to stay out of you business and stalk off, but that wasn’t what you did at all.

Taking the hand that was holding his, you moved it to the side of his face. The beard on his chin and cheeks scratched at your palms as you placed your other hand on his other cheek. You searched his blue eyes, looking for anything that resembled a lie, but you couldn’t see one. 

“I’m always trying to make a memory out of a feeling,” you whispered. 

“What do you feel right now?” he asked, very aware that your faces were moving closer. 

“Not alone,” you said after a moment of silence. Rick rested his forehead against yours, feeling your breath against his face. 

“Then I hope you remember this,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Rick placed his hands around your waist, pulling you closer and waited for you to push him away. When you didn’t, he nudged your chin up with his own and pressed his nose against yours. You met him the rest of the way and pressed your lips against his. 

He kissed you in a slow but firm rhythm. Your hands threaded into his soft hair and his moved to cup the back of your neck and the small of your back to pull you even closer.

You sighed into his mouth and he relished in the feeling when your tongues met and you leaned into him. It wasn’t rushed or heated like the other times you had kissed men in your travels. You didn’t want it to be. You felt every firm touch of his fingers and the softness of his lips as he kissed you tenderly. There was no raging heat between you, just a loving warmth that surrounded you both. 

You pulled back to catch your breath, looking at him and he smiled. You matched his expression easily. He whispered something that sounded like your name and you pulled him back to you. Your kisses started to get more languid as you held onto each other. Rick’s hands smoothed down your back and ran along your scalp, creating shudders from you as you held onto him.

Seeing as you were out in the open and on watch, you didn’t take it further as much as you both wanted to. As your fatigue caught up to you, Rick adjusted his position, leaning back against the tree with his gun at the ready and maneuvered you so you lay against his chest. “Sleep, (Y/N),” he said, “I’ll keep watch.”

For the first time in a long time, you nodded and did as he said. You lay your head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. You let out a deep breath and as you drifted off to sleep, his words from earlier echoed in her head. You thought you hated everybody, but hell, maybe you didn’t after all.

Note: this is strictly a one-shot. I dont see many rick x read stories and I love rick grimes so fucking much. If you know any good ones, please send them to me. Im desperate. 

[tteokdoroki]

💜- alright last part of my poly hawks and mirko story, anyone have any requests for the next one?

You wake up to the sound of whisper yells,

“We should wake her up, she needs to drink water and eat something! This whole week she hasn’t been able to recover and she needs to eat!” You hear a voice say, you assume it’s Rumi but you’re too exhausted to check.

“She needs some rest, and I’m not gonna wake her up. She looks so peaceful,” you hear keigo say, arms tighten pulling you closer to his chest.

“Bird brain stop trying to hid her with your wings,”

“No, I cleaned up the apartment while you two were asleep, now it’s my turn to get my cuddles,” keigo whines.

Opening your eyes you look up at keigo, who doesn’t even notice your awake. Rumi has a tray of food in her hands, and she is wearing a hoodie and shorts. You realize that you’re lying on Keigo’s chest, an arm wrapped around you.

“ hi baby, you were so good to us this week, so so good. We couldn’t have asked for a better wife,” Rumi says noticing that you’re awake. She puts down the tray of food and kisses your forehead.

“I’m sorry feather, did we wake you up?” Keigo asks, gently brushing the hair away from your eyes with his free hand.

You shake your head no, voice too sore to speak.

“Here baby, drink up. I bet you’re dying of thirst,” Rumi says grabbing a cup and beginning to pour some water in it.” Keigo, can you please help sit her up?” She asks brining the cup over to the both of you.

Keigo takes it from her hands, as you were about to grab it,”come on feather, let us take care of you,” he says nuzzling his face in your neck as he brings the straw up to your lips,”you were an angel for us this week, let us return the favor,”

You finish drinking and Rumi takes the cup from you, climbing ontop of the bed she holds out an unwrapped lozenge for your throat.

“This will help baby,” she says plopping the sweet tasting medicine in your mouth.

“You wanna eat first? Or take a bath? Or something else?” Keigo asks, sitting up straight, using a wing to help hold you to his chest.

“Bath, please,” you ask as both Rumi and keigo smile.

“Of course feather, Rumi did you get the stuff on the list?” Keigo asks shuffling to the side of the bed, picking you up in his arms and standing up.

“Of course I did Keigo, “

“Wait, what did you get? “You ask, peeking up. They just smile.

“Well, We thought you might enjoy some pampering, so I got you some of those bath salts that are good for sore muscles, some face masks, and some other goodies for you,” keigo said, placing you don’t on the bathroom counter.

“You guys, you didn’t have to, you both are the best,” your smile grew as you kissed them both on their cheek.

“We wanted to, you were so perfect for us, so we wanted to pamper you. Now, let us take care of you,” Rumi says as keigo fills up the bathtub. They both strip down, and keigo steps in first, being careful with his wings. Once you and Rumi are in, keigo takes the shower head and gently begins to wash your hair, giving you a nice scalp massage.

You just smile, closing your eyes as Rumi begins to put the bath salts in.

“You’re so pretty, how did I get so lucky for the two most gorgeous girls to stick around with me,” keigo says admiring you and Rumi.

“Hmm. You’re right, I’ll just take my baby bunny and leave you,” Rumi says jokingly grabbing your hand and kissing it.

Keigo scowls and shields you from rumi’s sight,”no. Mine. Both of you are mine, and I’m yours.” He grumpily says as Rumi laughs and tries to move his wings out of the way.

“I know bird brain, I’m just joking. I love you both,”

“I love you both too,” you say as keigo rinses the shampoo out of your hair and starts to put conditioner in.

You try to reach for his shampoo or rumi’s when they stop you,”these next few days are about you, not us. “Rumi says grabbing your hands and kissing them.

You go to argue but keigo stops you,”no if’s, and’s or buts,” he says as Rumi begins to lather your body up with nice smelling soap.

“What kind of food do you want for later, I know you like miso soup? I picked up some of your favorites from the store?” Rumi asks, as keigo rinses the conditioner out of your hair.

“We can order out, pick up that meal you really like,” keigo adds, kissing your face.

“Order out please?” You ask, leaning your head against Keigo’s chest.

“Anything for you feather,”

Rumi stands up, and gets out first,”wait here, I’m going to get some towels and bathrobes.

Keigo turns you to face him, “how many times have I said that I loved you today?” He asks with a smile on his face.

“At least ten,” you say

“Hmmm, that’s not enough,” he says kissing your nose,”nothing I ever do will be enough to show how much I love you,”

Rumi comes in with a bunch of fluffy towels and bathrobes.

“Come on keigo, don’t hog them, and the water is getting cold,” she says holding out a towel for you. Keigo picks you up and places you in the ground, his hands around your waist, supporting your body weight.

“Do you think you can stand?” He asks.

“I got this ,” you say, as keigo loosens his grip around your waist. Your legs immediately buckle and both keigo and Rumi grab you.

“Okay, maybe I was a bit overconfident,” you say laughing. As Rumi wraps you in a towel.

“You’re gonna give us a heart attack one day.” Keigo says as Rumi carries you in the bedroom, gently tossing you on to the bed.

Keigo is carrying a basket with lotions and leave in products.

They spend the next hour just massaging you, you can barely keep your eyes open by the time they’re done.

By now it’s around 12 pm, you’re dressed, had something to drink, showered and currently you’re bending fed chicken ramen with mushrooms, egg, and lots of veggies, with chicken. Wrapped up in their arms as you listen to the go back and forth, Rumi calling keigo a cannibal when he eats some of the chicken, and keigo telling Rumi that if she keeps thumping her foot on the floor there is gonna be a hole. They love play fighting, and you love watching them playfully banter. Cause at the end of the day, you three are curled up together, underneath a pile of blankets, watching movies together.

pls keigo gets so clingy and baby like after his rut all he wants to do is scoop you up in his wings and make a little nest with you :((( he makes room for rumi too n cuddles his babies into his chest aaaa brings you both shiny gifts because he wants you guys to know how grateful he is and how much he adores you !!! rumi pampering you both and letting you help wash keigo’s big wings and his hair aaa he’s literally you guy’s baby!!

rumi dressing you up in her clothes and spoon feeding you while kei just clings to your side and Does Not Leave im in love <33

[gabriellexhunter]

drunk nights and streetlights

warm. too warm.

was all that went through gabby’s head as the sun beamed down on her face, cursing herself for drinking, and not shutting the shades and for even being awake at what was probably some ungodly hour. letting out a small groan in protest her mind seemed to catch up to her body as her hand reached out into the spot next to her. the redhead peeked her eyes open when her hand didn’t meet a warm, just as crabby human next to her. Her hand tangled in her sheets as she sat up, holding the gray thin fabric to cover her chest. Maybe Max got up and made coffee? He was always an early riser, but maybe he had work? Or maybe he’s just in the bathroom waiting for her to get up?

Everything in her mind was telling her to panic, to freak out when she didn’t see him there. Or hear the familiar creaks of the house as someone walked through it, he wouldn’t just leave, right? And not say goodbye? Green eyes fell onto the floor and as her clothing was scattered everywhere still, his were nowhere to be seen. Hera chose this time to hop up onto the bed and meow towards her, probably hungry, and a part of her hoped he was just there, maybe doing the crossword so she couldn’t at her table.

Scratching behind her cat's ears, she brushed through her hair as she got up, the afterglow from last night had turned into grossness and tacky skin, shuffling her way into the bathroom she took the fastest, hottest shower she could. Gabby slipped into her lounge wear and pressed her palms into her eyes as she tried desperately to not overthink. This wasn’t the easiest situation, but he wouldn’t just dip. She knew him. He was an ass sure but after something so altering to their dynamic?

Bouncing down her stairs, a cat strong at her heels, she paused a bit at the end of her staircase, staring into an empty, undisturbed area. Her wine glass was still on her counter and the near empty bottle was in the sink, and the towel that was hung over her stove was discarded on the floor, probably from them. This also meant he wasn’t here. A part of her brain was accepting defeat, but the part that was so tightly wound with her heart couldn’t accept it. Moving to make a pot of coffee, her actions felt slow, like she was dipped in syrup trying to get out. Gabby’s cellphone sat dead on her kitchen island and as she picked it up, she prayed some small impossible thing would happen and he’d call. When she placed her phone on the table charger she poured her coffee, watching the phone more than her own movement, watching it light up and turn on and it even took her a few extra seconds to realize she was over pouring her coffee onto her counter.

“Fuck shit” Was mumbled out as her hand grabbed that towel and threw it down over the mess. “Get it together” Gabby said softly as she moved to dump a bit of the extra filled coffee out of her sink and each new ding rang out as messages and emails flooded the small screen. Taking a gentle sip her hand reached over the mess to reach anything that was popping up, every new thing pushed aside when it wasn’t from who she wanted it to be from. Her finger dangled a bit in front of his contact, the silly stupid picture staring back at her as she swallowed down the anxiety and took a deep breath. Meeting his voicemail was something she didn’t expect.

“hey uh- sorry I woke up so late i know you’re an early bird” this was more embarrassing than she thought it could be. her fingers pinched her nose before she took a deep breath and continued. “i know you might be busy or you know working or whatever but if you umm have time later we could talk about everything? i mean if you want? im sorry im so fucking nervous i just- i want to make sure we’re okay. you’re my best friend Max, just call me okay? i could word vomit forever.”

Staring down at her phone screen, she paused for a few extra seconds as she finally hung up the call. Her fingers curled around the device as she tucked it under her chin, shutting her eyes as she let out a shuddering breath. The thing was that now that this happened, it wasn’t like she could just ignore it. Looking back down at her phone screen she went to their texts as she mumbled to herself as Gabby deleted and retyped something a thousand times, trying to find the right words. The right way to fix this, because if she didn’t pick at this; it’d be her undoing.

‘Just call me when you can, okay?’ was all she typed out and let out a scream when she actually sent it. This is why she didn’t do things like this.

Twenty four hours.

It was the anxiety of it that was killing her the most. Not knowing. Not sure of where things were, or if he was upset or how he felt. She had to sit with her own emotions only, and that was almost worse. Max wasn’t there to tell her she was overthinking it, or being irrational towards herself and the situation. Gabs tried not to let the sadness creep in, she truly did, but when the text moved to delivered and she still never got a response, or a call back, a part of her heart broke. What if that was all he wanted? Seven years of build up just for sex? Max wouldn’t do that to her, he couldn’t do that to her.

Kicking her door closed, the redhead let out a groan as she pressed her back to it. Her gym clothing was sticking to her, and even though it was her normal coping mechanism, it didn’t touch the anxiety that sat on her shoulders or in her chest. She must have looked wild to those around her, carrying her gym bag under one arm and two bottles of wine in the next, but at this point, all she felt was defeated. Dropping her bag down and kicking off her shoes was the easy part, and as she dragged herself to the kitchen the first thing she did was find a bottle opener. Not even bothering with a glass and taking a big swig caused her to burp as she stared down at her phone. Gabby took another long sip, trying to build up the courage to text him again.

‘Can you at least tell me if we’re okay?’

Half a bottle of wine and a change of clothes later.

‘Max just give me something. I cant do radio silence, please?’

Full bottle and half a sandwich.

‘We dont even have to talk, send an emoji or something.’

Two bottles and a long cold case marathon later.

‘Don’t act like i won’t show up to your job’

‘I mean i won’t because you’re already avoiding me and i think it’d cry if you ignored me in person’

‘Im sorry im not trying to be that girl who demands something after a one night stand but

I just hoped i was more than that’

‘sorry’

Two days.

This asshole had ignored her for two days. The hangover was absolutely not worth it. And her sadness turned to anger overnight. Even if he didn’t want something serious, a single text would shut her up. One. single. Text. and he couldn’t even do that? Calling out was not in her work ethic but the anger she felt was all consuming, the sadness that would creep in would be overshadowed in anger and the need to hit him.

Her phone was her enemy, and every buzz and ding that came from it was false hope. Max was going to get a punch to the head when she saw him next, that was for sure. Did she completely waste her time with this? Did she push him too hard? All of these questions clouded her head for two days, but now they were replaced with venom. How could he do this to her? Were the things he said to her a lie? Maybe he didn’t want to give up his bachelor life. Or maybe he didn’t care as much as he thought and now she was just left in the dark. Gabby cried too much over this, sad and angry tears but there was never any relief. When she was getting a divorce there was a moment where everything turned calm again, and she stopped crying over it all, but that never came for this situation. She was just angry.

Wanting to text him and yell at him was her worst character flaw, she couldn’t leave things well enough alone. But he knew this about her. Did he just think she’d let this go? That she wouldn’t annoy the fucking shit out of him until he answered? The anger she felt from being completely disregarded was holding her body hostage, she couldn’t concentrate on anything else. All her normal coping ways didn’t even scratch the surface of it all, she was left feeling more angry, and in a sense betrayed. Even if he didn’t see this going anywhere, or wanted to stop all this, why wouldn’t he just tell her? Why leave her like this? Not knowing. Consumed. Burning.

When she finally gave in to text him again, all she wanted to do was spit hate at him. React bitterly and angry, like how she felt, but the thought of lying and telling Max she hated him, didn’t sit well. Puffing out a giant breath, her thumb hovered over the call button, and every time it rang she hoped he’d pick up. If he just answered she’d feel less angry. When his voicemail played again, she hung up the first time, “Get a fucking grip, you can yell at him it’s fine” and tried it again, and her anger flared again as it played again.

“Hey Asshat, I get it okay? This is a lot but you have to give me something. You know I don’t work well on silence and and avoidance, I’m just so fucking mad at you, All you have to do is answer me. An empty message at this point would be better than nothing. I hate...” Pausing, knowing how it was going to sound to him, she quickly tried to fix it. “I just hate that you responded like this. This isn’t right, this is stupid im not doing this I can’t do this. It hurts too much and I’m too angry at you, talk to me when you’re finally ready to have a big boy conversation.”  

Staring down at the phone, her breath caught in her throat as it all came down on her. What if they never recovered from this? Was she going to lose him for good? Pulling up the messages she saw all her one sided moments and typed before she could even stop herself,

“I love you but i also fucking hate you right now, all you had to do was stay.”

And with that, she accepted her anger and finally broke down in tears again.

Day three.

This was the day that hit the hardest. She could only call out for so long before others were asking if she was okay, and how serious her stomach bug was etc. Gabby wanted to crawl into her bed and just scream, and nap and mostly scream. Holding her coffee close to her chest as she walked through the familiar doors and all the way to her desk, Oliver insisted she make up for the lost time before her normal drive along. Her partner was already there waiting for her, probably waiting to give her a hard time.

“Marky I swear to god if you’re here to start shit I’ll turn around and walk out” The redhead started as she rolled her eyes at him, she knew they all meant well, “You missed two days of ride along and you expected to get through without shit? Come on Hunts, you know me better than that.” He was laughing, nudging her shoulder like it was nothing and dropped a muffin bag onto her desk. Markus was one of the ones who knew of her special deal with Oliver and her therapist, and a part of her was always nervous he’d say something, make some wack ass comment, but he always kept it respectful. The department welcomed her with welcome arms, many knew her from her previous work but when Oliver introduced her as Officer Hunter the cheers were all the welcoming she needed.

The three hours of desk work was killing her, every shift and turn in the chair was making some new part of her crack. Pushing her glasses up a bit and taking a sip of her coffee, she struggled through a few reports, only stopping when she got a clap on the back and an overeager Markus on her right. “You ready?” He asked, giving her a pleased smile when she nodded. Shutting the folder and placing it in her locked desk drawer, the woman grabbed her jacket and moved forward, following closely behind him. “Are we in the normal area tonight?” Gabs asked carefully, shrugging on her jacket and adjusting her shirt a bit as they entered the garage. “Yeah, we’ve got a few routine stops, and we have to check on that one family again but other than that we’re sitting on our asses tonight.”

Just like that the night moved on. New cups of coffee every hour, normal buildings and streets passing by in blurs. Streetlights either too bright or not bright enough, the rush of it all was just enough to distract her, shift her focus from the absolute emotional jail cell she felt trapped in. But good moments only last so long, it’s not all saving kids and eating donuts, there were days it tested her and tonight was one of those.

They were first to arrive on scene. Gun shots, domestic dispute, children involved. None of it was a good feeling. Things like this only had two ways of ending, bad or good, and there was just no telling which one they were getting. Markus and her stood by the door, weapons drawn as a few other officers were next to them, needing all the back up they could get at this point, medics on standby in case someone was injured. As they knocked on the door, identified themselves, and when all they heard was yells and screams it took less than ten seconds for Mark to kick the door down and they were in. Clearing each room, and right when she was going to check the final door with another officer that’s when all hell broke loose. Kids were crying, a woman was crying and all they saw was a man holding the woman by the neck and using her as a shield. There are moments when the universe is warning a person about something, she felt this years ago, when she was at that scene before she got hurt but this was part of the job. Gabby couldn’t back out now, not when the lives of others depended on it, it all happened so fast the woman was shoved to the ground and the man took off running. The other officer was helping the lady up and Gabby took off after him, “Adams is on the run! Officer Hunter in pursuit” She heard a few confirmations and Markcus staying close behind but she barely heard a damn thing.

Running through the streets of the Mission District was the last thing she wanted to be doing. Shoving people out of her way as she followed him, “Move move move!” Was all she could say as they continued running. He had to get tired at some point, she was near huffing. Rounding into a smaller side street, the redhead watched Adams disappear down a smaller alley and instantly her gut told her to turn back, save herself and just forget about him. Drawing her gun again, her steps got softer as she rounded the corner slower than him, her eyes bouncing back and forth between each side, each sound and every small movement she could. The further she went down the darkened alley the worse her belly ached, and that anxiety she felt for days felt minuarture to the anxiety and fear that held her body hostage. Swallowing slightly, she licked her lips as a soft breath passed through her lips, eyes taking in every detail she could, he couldn’t have gone far, he was slowing down a few blocks away, he was close. He had to be.

The clanging of metal made her turn, gun raised as she watched a stray cat run from behind the garbage cans, shattering from the area. One move fucked her, and as she heard the shuffling of shoes and rock, she knew. Barely having time to turn, Adams was right there; 6’3 and near two hundred pounds and he was taking her out like she was nothing. The distant sound of cop cars and sirens weren’t enough to stop him, really it only made it worse. Tackling her down to the ground was nothing to him, and even when she tried to stop it, scraping her hands, ignoring the sting and blood rushing, it wasn’t enough. Her gun flew from her hands, metal scraping against the ground, head smashing off the ground and it took everything in her to fight back. Her fist collided with his cheek, temporarily shocking him, and it was just enough to attempt to move. She was scrambling up trying to grab her gun, trying to get some sort of leverage over him but he was too quick, too big, too strong. His hand wrapped around her ankle, dragging her back to him, her lungs were burning, her head hurt in ways she didn’t ever want to remember and she could practically hear her heartbeat.

Dragging her back only added to the scraps and cuts on her hands, she was clawing her way at the ground trying desperately to find something, anything to get her out of this. His hands were gripping her so strong she was sure she’d have fingerprints, turning her around his fist connected with her face. Blood was rushing down her nose as he laid another smack down onto her, gabby was trying to shove him off, claw at him, harm him in any way, but he was a lady hitter, this was probably fun for him while she fought through everything just to make sure she made it out okay. His one hand reached down to grab her throat as his other hand reached behind him, and into the back of his pants and tugged out the firearm he was previously. The hand on her neck tightened as the gun pressed into her forehead, at least this one had enough brains to aim for the head.

BANG BANG BANG

Gabby’s eyes shut instantly, and when she wasn’t met with pain and darkness her eye creeped open watching a bloodied Adams start gasping as he toppled off her. Shoving him fully off of hef, her eyes widened as she tried to drag herself away from him, feet and sirens were closer and suddenly Markus was sliding next to her, trying to get her to sit still, wait for a medic, but she couldn’t function. The pain in the back of her head made her vision blurry, her hand was gripping Mark’s arm hard as she tried desperately to catch her breath. A medic was by her side in seconds and they were helping her up, trying to talk to her, but all she could think about was how much pain she was in, how the ringing in her ears wouldn’t stop and the phantom feeling of his hand around her neck wasn’t disappearing.

What a shit fucking week.

..

...

....

“Hello is this Max Fields?.... Right, Hi. This is Captain Oliver Lee with the San Francisco Police Department I’m calling in regards to Gabby Hunter..Listen, Gabs has you as her emergency contact and she got hurt tonight in the field. She’ll be fine but she’s gunna be benched for a bit, you just gotta come sign her out or they won’t let her leave. We’re at Saint Frances..room 603 Just get here when you can, she’s pretty out of it right now so you got some time. Don’t leave her hanging, can’t wait to meet you.”

[reading-between-truth-and-lies]

(Have A little snippet of what is now considered a past conversation between Kokichi and Shuichi. It’s the night before Kokichi started going to class. If anyone wants me to do snippets of Kokichi meeting each character for the first time just send in an ask!  ~Mod Kokichi)

Shuichi steps into his room, another long day of classes and nosy friends behind him. He sighs exhaustively and sits on the edge of his bed, hunching over. A moment of quiet passes as the detective relaxes enough to find his words. "Tomorrow is supposed to be the first day you'll be joining me in my classes... How are you feeling?" He doesn't bother addressing the kitsune by name, there was simply no need. Shuichi knew the other was there and awake.

Kokichi poked his head and upper body out of the void. he crossed his arms against the floor, resting his his chin on his arms as he looked at the detective. “You know when you talk like that people are gonna think you talk to yourself Shu~” He smirked then shrugged his shoulders. “What’s there to worry about? It’s not like I am being graded like you losers.” 

The Kitsune moved to put a finger to his chin tilting his head in a thinking motion. “Now that I think about it... I have never gone to a school before.” He then moved his finger to right above his lip with a smirk. “I mean when the orphanage found me they tried but I never went~ It sounded soooooo boring and I had better things to devote my time too. Besides I learned everything I know from my fellow kids, the streets and my past animal pals.”

The detective sighs, "Some people already think that." It was a slight exaggeration, collage pupils have probably never thought that. Shuichi continues, "Ah- but, you haven't been around more then a few people for a long time now, right? Just as long as you're prepared for that..."

Shuichi finds the energy to shuffle through his briefcase to pull out a notebook, he finally looks in the kitsune's general direction as the male extends it towards Kokichi. "I-I can give you a run-down of my classes as we move between them tomorrow, but I wrote them all down in this; what you do with the notebook is up to you." And then, rather hesitantly adds "S-some of these might uhm, interest you, as scary as the idea sounds..."

Kokichi pursed his lips slightly before lowering his ears slightly letting a bit of his true feelings. "Y-You want honesty? I really don't know. Guess I am a little worried. Maybe. It has been awhile..."

Seeing the notebook held out to him the kitsune crawled out of his little hole to sit right in front of Shuichi. He took the note book and looked it over. It was just a plain red notebook. Nothing really special about it.

Opening it he looked at what the detective wrote. He already saw few classes that sounded interesting enough to keep his attention. "A quick run down tomorrow might help. Maybe." He spoke without looking up from what he was reading.

Shuichi nods, "Y-yeah." The kitsune seemed to be placing some amount of trust in him and that sort of jumpstarted the detective's anxiety, but damnit now is not the time!

He finds his eyes drifting down to the other's hands, mindlessly looking at them, "Let me know if you need to step out of a class for a bit. My professor's already know you'll be with me a-and that you're, um... Different, i-in this case." Shuichi can't help but grimace at his use of the word different. And now, clean up the verbal mess you just made-

"They don't know anything more though, so don't worry about that, okay?" The detective back-peddles. "S-sorry, im probably not doing a good job of preparing you..." He sighs, lowering his gaze to the floor, resting his face in a hand.

Kokichi nodded "Okay. I know. They told me that all the professors know I'm not an actual student here. But to treat me like I was one unless you stepped in or something goes wrong with- No, Encase the bird comes. I always have to deal with the bird. Noone else should have too."

Kokichi panicked slightly seeing the other get depressed suddenly. "H-Hey, Your doing fine! This is new to you just as much as its new to me. B-But I guess you are helping. Maybe..."

"The bird..." The words carry like lead on his tongue, but Shuichi nods slowly. Just keep going along with it. "Y-yeah. I'll do my best, Oma-kun." He gives a small grin he hopes is encouraging. The male glances over to the small clock and the grin fades, "I'll- no, we'll need to be up by 7:30..." The detective yawns softly.

Kokichi nodded and gave a faint smile. He looked at the time and winced slightly. "If that's the case then sleep is needed." He crawled back over to his void to slide back into it. Luckily he was already in his sleep wear: a galaxy themed shirt stolen from Kaito.

Shuichi nods and stands once the kitsune was back in the void, changing out of his day clothes and throwing on an old T-shirt. He grunts, laying down on his bed; thoughts continuing to spin in his head. If he's going to be by me now, then I should just... "Uhm... K-kokichi-kun?" The male tries out casually addressing the other.

Kokichi froze in his void at hearing Shuichi use his actual name. A small blush dusting his cheeks. He just calls out from inside the void, voice muffled and slightly distorted "Yes Shu?"

"Goodnight"

"...Yea, N-Night shu!"

[deeeelightfuldee]

Your ex taps you on the shoulder and says, “I still love you.” You say? ooooof. I don’t think i’d buy that. I hardly think people who DO show they have feelings for me are being truthful, so I doubt that.

Do you play video games? haven’t in some time, but I want to get back into it a little.

Do you spend a lot of time with family? oh heck yeah. I have a really great family.

Is your house more than two stories tall? nah, it’s the two stories with a basement.

Have you ever hit your significant other? Has he/she ever hit you? I will never raise my hands to another human being. I once dated someone who was a veteran and had severe ptsd. we were napping one time and he got aggressive. that wasn’t HIM though. 

What makes you an attractive person? (Talk about your personality too!) physically, I suppose I have nice eyes and a decent smile. personality wise, I am warm, friendly, loving, supportive, sometimes funny, very loyal.

What color is your hairbrush/comb? depends which one I use. I have a pink one right now. 

What snacks do you have available in your household atm? I honestly haven’t got a clue. I haven’t been let out of my room in 2 weeks.

Has anyone recently told you that they like you, or find you attractive? yes. it’s weird.

Are you attracted to the last person you Facebook messaged? DEF not. he has been asking me out since we worked together maybeeeee.. 8-9 years ago? 

Do you care about anyone that doesn’t care about you? yes! I am trying to learn how to undo that. it’s not that I don’t want to care about him, but I know and can soooooooo clearly see that he doesn’t care anymore, and it is extremely emotionally draining to watch.

Was your last Facebook friend requests from a male or female? I wanna say female but idk

Which one of your relatives is most likely to embarrass you? scott

When was the last time you ate a bar of chocolate? couple days ago.

Do you play any games on Facebook? Nope.

What would you like to get a degree in? I have two degrees -- one in psych and one in SLP. 

Do you wake up a lot in the middle of the night? ahahahaha yes. almost always wide awake from 3-6

Would you prefer to read a book, watch a movie or TV show, or play a video game? typically more in the movie/show or book mood.

Do you usually get popcorn or soda at the movie theater? Both. nothing like that buttery, salty goodness that obvs requires an enormous drink

What genre of films do you like the best? either make me EXTREMELY sad, or romantic.

How many bank accounts do you have? 2

Have you ever had the flu? Yeah.

What is your goal for the next few months? i have several. the only one that can/will be public right now, is to get my lungs back to functioning as they were.

Have you ever had some kind of sleep-disorder? How did it affect your life? yes. I have very bad breathing during sleep. I have had 11 sleep studies done, because my breathing will just stop randomly, which luckily my brain wakes me. it doesn’t really affect my like severely.. I function normally. but shoooooot, if I got normal levels of sleep i’d be a force to be reckoned with.

Have you ever had food poisoning before? Describe the experience. Yes. It was AWFUL. vomiting for 2 days straight. it was so gross.

Funny, charming, cute, romantic, smart - choose only 2 for the opposite sex. smart and romantic.

Have you ever let somebody use you? Why did you do it? hmm. I think there have been times where i’ve let people have more access to me than they should have had. or there have definitely been times I’ve been used in school groups. But honestly, I tend to be protective of myself. I stop when I feel enough is enough. 

You can go back in time & change something in your mom’s past - what is it? I would want either Bill to not die, or for her to be spoiled incessantly by someone else.

Do you know anybody who is around the exact same size as you? Who? psh. no. my friends are all tiny which is just not fun.

Ever been to a haunted house? How scared were you? Yeah. i found it so fun.

Been on any websites today you wouldn’t want your parents to see? ahahahaha no. 

Which is worse: dusting or mopping? mopping. i hate doing the floors.

Did you pull a senior prank? Not really advised when a homeschooler. 

Did you graduate? Yes. that was a rough, rough day.

Have you ever been unfaithful in a serious relationship? Nope

What was the last song you listened to? i think it was Happier than Ever by billie eilish. the lyrics are ... woof. 

Are you one of those lucky people with 20/20 vision? 20/12 -- the last time I had insurance anyway.

Is fashion one of your interests? honestly, if I had money, it would be. but it isnt right now.

Do you think you’ll eventually find that special someone? It’s getting harder and harder to believe that will be the case. I knowwwww I need to start dating, but every time I go to open up an app, I hesitate and chicken out. I just was so happy before.. its hard to think I could be able to offer anything to anyone right now.

Do you care what people think? veryyyyyy few people. I care about the thoughts of those I genuinely love and respect. However, I still ensure I’m protecting myself regardless.

Is acting something you enjoy? No. 

What was the last thing you broke/sprained? I have a bum knee, so I sprain that from time to time. I last broke a finger.

Have you ever fought with a friend because of their boyfriend/girlfriend? Because of yours? ahahahaha yes. but years ago. never because of mine.

Has a stranger ever yelled at you for your language? No. I don’t cuss. 

Whose house, other than yours and your families’, are you most comfortable at? probably either nathan’s or em’s.

Has any of your friends’ family ever yelled at you? alix’s family used to yell at me a lot for being fat. that used to mess me up. 

Did you ever play a sport as a little kid? Did you enjoy it? soccer. no, i found the endless running to be unnecessary. 

Did you ever watch the show Full House? yup

Is there a celebrity you are just DETERMINED to marry? no, thats so out-of-touch with reality

Have you ever burned someone’s picture? yes, i have.

What’s the longest hike you’ve ever been on? i think it was 8 hours. I hate hate hate hikes. But, thats because I have really weak lungs, so my doctor says it’s like lighting them on fire.

Would you ever get a lip tattoo? No.

Who is the first person of the opposite sex that pops into your head? kile

Do your parents smoke cigarettes? my mom hasn’t since a teenager. I think my dad does still. though, i dunno for certain.

What does one of your T-shirts have written on it? uhhhh, PTK honors society

Name a pet you definitely wouldn’t want. Any reptile or insect. <<<< same

Would you prefer your partner smaller or taller? Taller. 

Do you enjoy going through old pictures? Yes. very much so.

Do you believe people when they say they don’t judge people? No, i respect people who are truthful saying they either try not to judge, or that they do judge despite their desire to stop.

What did you love the most about the town you grew up in? sooooooo much. it’s small town-y, quiet, safe, lots of trees, family close by.

What’s a movie you cried the hardest during? ps i love you will always shatter my heart.

What’s your favorite restaurant? buona or ashford

Is there a dessert you don’t like? im not wild about pastries.

What’s a book that you read because everyone else was reading it? hmmm maybe that one mrs. pettigrews home for peculiar children.

Underwater or outer space? i’m fascinated by both. typically more interested in the water.

Dogs or cats? both. all of them.

Kittens or puppies? kittens.

Bird watching or whale watching? whales!!!!!!!!

What was your best subject in school? in HS probably history. or science. in college, psych or neuro.

What was your worst subject in school? Math. always freakin’ math.

What is one thing you wish you knew in high school? Uhhh. hm. i don’t think anything. I liked my experience.

Who is your fashion icon? nada.

Diamonds or pearls? Both are nice. I love pearl stud earrings and I really want a simple, one pearl necklace. I am kinda ruined for diamonds for some time. My favorite rings and necklace were diamonds from kile and I just cant bring myself to wear those anymore.

What color dress did you wear to prom? pink

Honestly, are you jealous of someone right now? oh sure. I am envious of those with bangin’ bods. I’m envious of those who have great finances. I am envious of those who live life married to their love. I’m envious of people who see kile regularly. But there are difficulties that come with any of those situations.

Honestly, when was the last time you REALLY cried your heart out? not long ago. the whole crushing reality of losing kile just destroyed me. I’m OK now.

Do you need to return anyone’s phone call? ahahahahah. I just reject all calls.

Who are you closest to? My mom and nathan rn.

Have you ever had a bad concert experience? no

Are you currently sad about anything? several things have recently been really saddening, but I’m ok. Ill get thru it.

Have you had any form of exercise today? Its going to be some time before I’m cleared for that. I almost faint from taking a shower and I have to be on oxygen after doing the one flight of stairs. 

Can you handle blood? doesn’t bother me at all.

Has any place hired you underage for a job? yes. I mean technically, I was legal to work in that I was 17, but the company didn’t want to hire younger than 18.

Have you ever carried a concealed weapon? not like in public, but at a house or gun range, yes.

Are you currently searching for a job? soon.

Does eating breakfast make you sick? i’m never ever ever hungry for it. I know i should, but its the worst. I don’t even like breakfast foods.

[orionwhispers]

Wishing It Was You; Tommy Shelby Imagine

(A/N - hey guys... its been a while. I started this in april and finally finished it. she might be my longest yet my fave imagine ive done. im tired and lazy so sorry if there are any mistakes. PLZ let me know what you think and my ask is always open!! ily)

Tommy knows he's standing next to Grace.

He can feel the warmth radiating off her skin, can feel the pressure of his hand against the curve of her waist, can smell her expensive perfume, with it’s notes of rose water and lemon, lingering on her neck, but all he sees is you. Grace is leaning into him, her giggles sounding like twinkling diamonds as she laughs at a joke he hasn’t registered, his mind completely preoccupied with thoughts of the woman standing at the other side of the room.

He hadn’t expected to see you here. In fact, he hadn’t expected to ever see you again. It strikes him like a bullet in his gut, leaving him winded and gasping for air in the middle of an expansive ballroom, the gin on his tongue suddenly as hot as acid.

Have you seen him yet? The thought fills his brain like a buzzing hornets nest, the feeling is immediate and prickling at the back of his skull.

Do you know he’s here? Have you noticed him?

Most importantly though… Did you come alone?

His hand unconsciously tightens around Grace’s waist and she smiles at him, as sweet as sugar, completely unaware of the femme fatale on the opposite side of the room, capturing her husbands attention and luring him like a siren.

He bites his tongue until he can taste metal and copper. A fresh wave of guilt and shame collapse over him but he swallows it down like it’s nothing but a lump in his throat.

He loves Grace, he adores her. He isn’t doing anything wrong.

And yet, he can’t take his eyes off of you.

At first he thought he was going mad. He hadn’t believed in ghosts and spirits since he was a boy, sat in a caravan, reading tarot cards with his Mum. He became too used to death and decay in the war, too used to seeing blood and rot to believe in a chance of a second life - not when he had sinned so much in his first.

He hadn’t thought of you in so long. Hadn’t conjured up the image of you in his mind like he used to do late at night, imagining the feel of your skin against the pads of his fingertips, the smell between your shoulder blades, the weight of your ribs underneath his.

You were always at the back of his mind though. No matter how hard he pushed you away, your smile and voice would always linger at the back of his head, a beam of sunlight whenever the shovels would get too loud.

You were real though. You were back. He could tell only because of the way you captivated everyone around you, the faces of those enchanted by you were proof that you weren’t just a memory his drunken mind had created. Throwing your head back and giggling, chewing on the bottom of your painted lips, you had everyone under your spell.

He can’t take his eyes away from you. Its like he’s a puppet and you’re toying with the strings without even realising. He’s tethered to you, no matter how far apart you may be.

“Tommy?”

Grace’s syrup like voice cuts through him like a blade, and he straightens up. He’s acting like a teenager and the thought repulses him, he’s a businessman, not a child. He’s fought in the war, dealt with fearless gangsters and killed men with his bare hands, how come seeing you has rendered him breathless?

He turns to look at her, her gentle features illuminated under the chandeliers, her brow is furrowed with a mixture of mild irritation and curiosity and he lets her familiarity wash over him like the ocean. She smiles kindly at him, turning her attention back to the guests surrounding her, and Tommy feels a clench of white hot shame that whilst he is stood next to his wife, his mind is dizzied with the thoughts of another woman.

Grace is Grace.

She’s beautiful and soft and kind and warm. She was the stability he needed, the type of woman he needed to come home to, she tended to his wounds and listened to his rants and kissed his scars. She was too good for him and he knew it. She had lied and deceived him in the past, but it strengthened their love, rebuilt their trust like a fortress. He loved her, he wanted to have a family with her.

But she would never be you.

You were as familiar as the peaked cap that adorned his head, you were as much as a part of him as the gun in his holster. Your face flashed in his mind whenever he heard the last gasp of air from an enemy, it was you who appeared in his dreams and rescued him from the depths of his nightmares. It was as if you were stitched into his skin since the very first day you met when you were children.

He needs to get home, he can’t stay. Too long and you’ll sink your claws into him. Too long and everything he’s worked so goddamn hard for will start to crumble around him.

He flattens his palm against the back of his wife’s dress, ready to make hasty excuses and polite apologies and leave, nestle her into the back of his car and drive far away.

He opens his mouth to speak, but before words can slip from his tongue, he spots a smug, sparkling eyed Polly approaching, arms spread, lips curled into a smirk.

Fuck being polite. He’s Tommy fucking Shelby, he can do whatever the fuck he wants.

His hands curve around Grace’s spine and she tuts in protest, ready to scold her husband for his haste, but she snaps her lips shut at his flushed expression.

“Oh Tommy! Isn’t it wonderful?”

Polly approaches, already buzzed, arms spread like a bird in flight, just waiting to engulf him. A cigarette dangles from the corner of her cherry painted lips, her eyes gleaming with a mix of alcohol and mischief.

He inwardly curses, Polly cornering him like a lioness, ready to tear him and his wife apart. She’s practically chomping at the bit, the delight of seeing your familiar face and the knowledge of what that’ll do to Tommy and Grace making her float across the floor. She’s drunk on elation and glasses of champagne, her mind too fucked to even think about the consequences.

“Oh Tom!” She repeats, cradling his face like he’s a boy again. Under any other circumstances he would be delighted to see his Aunt so happy, a sight he was rarely blessed with, but now he’s wishing for anything else. Grace’s grip tightens, he can feel her stare on the side of his skin, burning holes into his flesh. Polly feels her gaze and turns to the blonde beauty, her disdain for her nephews wife enough to drill the final holes into his coffin, sealing him shut into eternal darkness.

“It’s (Y/N)! She’s back.”

Grace stiffens beside him, arching a penciled eyebrow at her husband and opening her lips. Tommy can feel his palms moisten, an unfamiliar sensation that takes him back to being a teenager, one that only ever occurred around you.

“Who’s (Y/N), Thomas?”

————————————————————

You were the same age as Ada, reserved and soft spoken, new to Birmingham and all of its smoke and gristle coloured cobbles. She saw you one day in the school yard; sat alone on your first day, picking at the skin on your swollen lips, round doe eyes following the other children roughhousing and laughing. She was immediately drawn to you, her inquisitive mind growing protective, and it wasn’t long before she strode over to you, confident as ever, introducing herself and deciding to take you under her wing.

The two of you became fast friends, sharing jam sandwiches and apple slices under the sun, skipping along the streets and throwing stones into the cut at dusk before your parents hastily called you inside and scolded your recklessness. You barely left one another’s side, spending every night you could at each others house, giggling and gossiping under the covers, trying on your mothers makeup and making sticky pinkie promises to be best friends forever.

The years passed and you still remained attached at the hip, growing closer than ever as your limbs grew and you wandered into adolescence, facing every problem you encountered together. You were Ada’s shoulder to cry on when her mother passed, sleeping next to her in a single bed for month on end as the night terrors kept her awake. You grew closer to Ada’s family as well, especially considering the amount of time you spent there. Aunt Pol became a surrogate mother to you, chastising you and supporting you and always being there for you, sometimes with a smack on the back of the legs, like the time she caught you both smoking before you hit your teens.

You became a fond fixture in the Shelby household, slotting in like just another straggly stray at the dinner table every night. You were young, but you weren’t stupid, you had known the Shelby boys since the very first day you came back to their house and even as a child you could sense the mischievous aura surrounding them. As you grew, so did your curiosity, and it wasn’t long before you learnt of the betting shop located in the back room of Pol’s house. Ada and Polly were both protective of you, and managed to keep you out of trouble despite the spark of interest that brewed in your stomach and so that back room just became another chest to lock in the back of your mind.

They both knew that there was something different about you, and as you grew from a timid child to an inquisitive teenager your thirst became insatiable. Ada had always recognised the unpredictable nature the you harboured, you could be quiet and meek but under the surface your brain was a kaleidoscope of spontaneity. It was you who suggested late night adventures and rain splattered trips that got you both into trouble, you who dreamt of cities and lives bigger than the both of you. Ada adored that about you, your desire for change something she wasn’t used to in the dismal, grey town she grew up in but deep down she was terrified that you wouldn’t ever be satisfied.

She wasn’t the only one who noticed the impulse in you. From the very first time he saw you all those years ago he noticed the crackle of electricity under your docile exterior, bubbling under the surface like lightning that struck the sky. Of course, back then you were just a child and Tommy was far too interested in pursuing the betting shop than taking notice of his little sister’s friend, but he always kept an eye on you. The two of you had a bizarre relationship, despite the age gap between you both, you managed to find a level ground. Whilst Arthur and John would ruffle your hair and swing you over their shoulders as if you were still a toddler, Tommy would talk to you as if you were an adult, the two of you could bicker like siblings but there was a mutual respect underlying it all, you both connected by your need for more.

It came to a head when Tommy was counting money at the betting shop one evening in August. The sun was fading to the colour of a bruised peach and the air was still warm, notes stuck to his fingers and he hummed in frustration just as the large doors swung open. His head snapped up and he came face to face with a flushed Ada, her cheeks were as red as a Gala apple and tears welled in her wide eyes. Tommy immediately reached for the gun shoved in it’s holster ready to send bullets flying over his watery eyed sister, before her exasperated voice broke through the silence.

“It’s (Y/N)! She’s had a fight with her fucking dad and now she’s gone! Please, Tom, can you help me find her?”

As Tommy had the family car, he was left trawling through the country lanes surrounding the city whilst Ada and Pol searched your usual hiding spots in Small Heath. According to Ada, you had about a two hour head start from your house, and Tommy’s foot itched over the pedals at the thought. This was hardly the first time you had run away, usually it was over to Polly’s for the night after you had had enough of your family, but after a particularly bad spout with your parents last year, Ada had found you halfway to London. You were definitely a flight risk.

Tommy’s hands clenched over the steering wheel as the sky darkened, you were a beautiful teenager, walking alone through the streets at dusk; it was a recipe for disaster. Tom knew you could hold your own, but the creatures that lurked around at night were ravenous and there was no way in hell he would let them sink their claws in you.

Tommy could feel heat prick at the bottom of his spine. He wasn’t stupid, he knew that the feelings he harboured for you stemmed much more than the ‘sibling love’ he disguised them as. The attraction between the two of you had always been there, something magnetic joining you both before you could realise it. Over the years it had blossomed, despite his attempts to distinguish the fire that you brought out in him, something about you had captivated him.

All of his thoughts turned to wisps of smoke as he rounded a corner, nearly swerving into a thorn bush as he spotted you. You were walking with determination, and he couldn’t help the smirk that grew on his face as he watched you march forward like a solider, your small frame filled with force. Your hair was loose, draping around your shoulders like a halo, bouncing with every step you took.

He trailed behind you, edging his foot off the gas and waiting as the car slowed next to you. He knew you noticed the intrusion from the way your shoulders tensed briefly, and he allowed the car to match your pace, the two of you moving like boats on water. He knew you would be the first to speak, and allowed your words to run over him like warm milk and honey.

“Hello, Thomas. Out for a drive?”

He smiled, rolling his eyes slightly before responding. “C’mon (Y/N), time to come home.”

“No thank you.”

“It’s getting late.”

“Is it? I hadn’t noticed.”

He tensed his foot against the gas, the car rumbling lowly and rolling forward. He pulled it into park right in front of you, the dark exterior blocking you from walking any further up the lane. You exhaled in frustration, the tips of your ears and the apples of your cheeks flushed the colour of Shepard’s delight, and he cant help but bite back the smile curling in his mouth. He patted the seat playfully and watched as you scuffed your foot into the mud like a child, coyly sucking on your tongue before clambering next to him, crossing your arms and settling into the leather.

Tommy’s hands rested on the steering wheel, he flexed his fingers for a moment before turning to face you, examining your skin under the dim light. Both of your fathers had a lot in common, alcoholic, nasty and violent, something dark like rum boiling inside of their blood, men who ruled with fear and aggression. There were no marks he could see, not like the time your arm was coated in purple thumb prints that left him seething, only calmed once you and Ada had snuck off to her room and he could control his thoughts with a cigarette. That night he pretended he couldn't see Polly watching him like a hawk.

“He didn’t hit me this time.”

Good. He would have killed him.

“Kind of wish he did though, Mum bought a new frying pan that could have come in handy.”

He let you talk, the birds and the wind the only noises disturbing the peace. You were quiet, and it was rare for you to open up like this, so he cherished the moment despite the underlying bleakness of it all.

“I know it seems childish, but it just feels easier to get away.”

He hesitated, looking down at you picking your nails in the front seat of his car. The words forming on the edge of his tongue tasting like whisky, not knowing how to comfort you without implicating himself. He tried to imagine himself as Polly or Ada, the kind of person who would know what to say.

“You have people that care about you, you don’t need to fuckin’ up and leave.”

“I know I do, but anywhere is better than Small Heath.”

He blew air through his teeth. “It ain’t so bad.”

You swivelled to face him, round eyes and raised eyebrows set on him like a sniper. “Really, Tom? You do know you’re saying all this sat in the front seat of a bloody Bugatti? Bought with dirty money might I add?”

It’s the first time he’s seen you so heated and despite the truth in your words the sight of your small face twisted in annoyance is enough to make his lips curl, only adding fuel to your fire.

“You can sit here and tell me that all you want, but you know better than anyone that there’s more out there than Birmingham. I can see it in you Tom, and if you want you can act like you don’t need anything more, then that’s fine by me! But I hope you’re alright with lying to yourself.”

He stared deep into your eyes, expression blank and solid as if your words had truly punched him in the gut. You watched him for a moment, cheeks flushing slightly and eyebrows scrunching, wondering if maybe you had over stepped the line before his eyes glimmered and he held his hands up playfully, peaked cap bouncing with every exaggerated movement.

“Alright, bloody hell. Remind me not to get in a fight with you. I can see how much our Ada has rubbed off on you.”

You let a tiny smile tug at the edge of your lips before it expanded and took over your face, tossing your head back and letting your hair fall over your shoulders as you grinned. Tommy swore he felt his heart skip a beat. He started the car as quickly as he had stalled it, feeling it purr and jut under his feet, the world righted once again now that you were sat next to him. The car rolled over a bridge, and after you crossed over onto the other side he cleared his throat, opening his mouth to speak.

“If you ever feel like running away again, come and see me first, alright?”

He kept his eyes on the road, but could feel yours on the side of is neck, running softly over his flesh like fingertips.

“If I didn’t know any better, Thomas,” You spoke teasingly, using his full name just to get under his skin, “I’d think you were going soft.”

The evening sun beat down onto the two of you, and as the car lurched forward he mirrored your own smile, because maybe he was, for you.

————————————————————————-

After that long drive home it was like a switch had flipped. The two of you became closer, as if an invisible thread was tying you both together. You were allowed into the betting shop more often, counting coins and change and bickering playfully with the Blinders. Tommy took you to your first horse race under the guise of “teaching you more about the business”  you wore your finest dress and he pretended he couldn't feel his breath catch in his throat when he looked at you. His hands clung protectively around your waist as you downed a glass of strawberry wine, rolling his eyes and smiling as you laughed into him as the horses galloped and the crowds cheered. You spent evenings climbing through the window in his bedroom, sitting on the sloped roof tiles as rain pattered onto the streets below, sharing a cigarette and watching the stars peek through the smoky air, unsaid words bubbling behind both of your lips as yours knees pressed together.

The rest of the family noticed the change between the two of you, but said nothing. Even Ada couldn't help smiling to herself when she saw the glances that you shared, her kind and clever older brother was the only man she could possibly think was good enough for her best friend. Although she would never admit it, it meant he was distracted enough to not notice her leaving to spend time with a certain man named Freddie.

Tommy drove you to the beach for the first time, exploring the pier and walking barefoot across the sand. Your wide smile as you danced in the surf and talked under baying seagulls was forever cemented into his mind, he vowed silently that he would move mountains just to see you happy, the feeling unlike anything he had ever felt. He taught you how to shoot a gun, your body pulled flush against his as you squealed in delight as the bullet ricocheted off the can. Your conversations flowed like running water, able to converse and laugh about everything and anything from dusk till dawn. He was mischievous and playful and would crack jokes even on your worst days, when your father was mean and your mother was distant, he would make you feel whole again.

That’s why, on a rainy Thursday as the two of you walked side by side by canal, you pulled his face towards yours with your small hands and kissed him. He froze, with all of his previous girlfriends he had always initiated things first, but with you he had felt uncharacteristically hesitant, terrified of scaring you off and losing you. However as your parted lips met and he felt you smile into his mouth, tasting of cherry jam and stolen tobacco, he let his hands snake around your waist as if they had been carved there. The wind whistled and the rain splattered both of you, his peaked cap sheltering his ruffled hair and your face from the droplets, it was freezing but heat crackled between the two of you. You were practically half his size, resting on your tip toes to meet him fully, but in that moment he knew you had him utterly under your thumb.

The relationship the two of you shared was pure and untainted. It was all soft skin and moonlight painted faces, freckles and wide teeth and apricot coloured skies. His hand would brush against yours as he walked you home, you’d laugh into his neck at the Pictures, your words would mingle together at midnight as you sat and talked. Things couldn't have been more perfect, as sweet as the whisky tea you would drink with Ada and Polly, as merry as the laughs you shared with the brothers and as syrupy as the kisses you would have with your first love. But just like the smoke that filled the once clear sky above your heads, your life was soon to darken.

It all happened so suddenly, maybe your blissful youth had created a candy coated picture over the political dramas happening around you, but now they couldn’t be ignored. There was going to be a war. You knew from the start the brothers would be drafted, they were filled with pride for their country, they were young and fit and strong, they knew how to fight, punching and slashing with their razor blades, but you loathed the idea. You bit your tongue until it bled, knowing there was no point in arguing, but that didn't stop you staining your pillow with tears every night.

You refused to let the boys see you in such a state, and tried your best to enjoy the last few days you had until you would be separated from your family. The ache in your chest remained despite your false bravado, dinners were different, quieter, and you would often catch Polly staring at nothing, as if she could see a ghost.

Tommy took you away the night before. He drove the caravan for miles, his favourite dappled mare pulling you through fields of wildflowers as the sun followed you overhead. You parked in the woods by the river, silence falling over both of you. His hands laced through yours, thumb running over your soft skin, and you watched him, drinking in all of his beautiful features like whisky.

“Will you wait for me?”

His voice is quiet, so unlike his usual boyish, playful tone. Seeing him so vulnerable was like a bullet entering your heart. You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling the soft cotton of his shirt dance against your cheek.

“Forever.”

He intakes sharply. He plucks a daisy from the grass, toying with the tiny flower between his large palms before turning to you and pushing it behind your ear, looking at you in a way that makes your body melt like butter.

“I love you.” He watches you, gauging for your reaction, but you don’t give him any, you just look up at him with those big fucking eyes. He exhales, turning back to face the water as he continues. “Known it since we first met. Since that very first day, when we were just kids, I knew. You had a hold on me since day one. I couldn’t leave without telling you…telling you how grateful I am for you.”  

His voice softens, “How much you mean to me and because of that,” He clears his throat as if struggling to get the words out, “I’ll understand if you want to move on, find someone else or…”

You don’t let him continue, you attach your lips to his as if they were magnetic, feeling him collapse under your touch. You pull away much too soon for his liking, a smile reaching your eyes as you press your forehead against his, the light making you look angelic. “Stop talking.” You kiss him again, harder, in that teasing way you have mastered so well.

“I love you too.”  

Under the stars, as the moonlight bathes the caravan in a soft eerie glow, you pull off the straps off your sundress, watching Tommy follow you as if he’s in a trance. Calloused, firm hands meet your tender flesh as he worships you like a Goddess, unable to believe that you are human. You give yourself to him fully, and it’s unlike anything he’s felt, the connection flowing between your bodies stronger than anything, love and lust connecting as your bodies mesh. Despite his earlier sentiment, as he buries himself inside of you, he loathes the idea of another man touching you and you can feel the heat radiating from underneath his skin and pull his face to you, staring him down, telling him everything he needs to know.

You’re his, and he’s yours.

Candles flicker around you, painting your limbs the colour of the sunrise. You playfully touch his nose, and then his lips, dragging them open with your finger. Your bodies are slick with sweat, exhausted but alive, feeling as if you are the only two people in the world despite the knowledge of what lurks ahead, you just feel young and blissfully in love.

“You won’t forget about me, will you Shelby?” You tease. “Won’t find a nice French woman to take my place?”

You’re joking but he kisses you silent, eyes connecting to yours, “I’ll never be able to replace you, little one.”

——————————————————————

No one expected the war to last as long as it did, least of all you. Every day you sat by the radio, waiting and wanting desperately for news that it was over, but every day you would leave with tears filling your eyes. You busied yourself the best you could during those long, dark days. You and the girls ran the betting shop, you looked after John’s kids and Finn as if they were your own - despite your young age, the war had forced everyone to grow up.

Four years is a long time, and that’s exactly how you felt as you waited on the platform, hand in hand with Ada, waiting for your boys to come home. You felt as if you had swallowed rocks, nausea bubbling inside of you, acid in your throat. He had been home three times since it had started. Three times in four years had you been able to see his face in real life, touch his skin, tell him words that wouldn’t do justice on paper. You had seen the effects of the war distort the people around you, heard awful tales of shell shock and seen men returning home with missing limbs and broken hearts. Every day you waited for that call, that piece of paper that told you Tommy wouldn’t be returning, but blessedly it never came, and finally, he was coming home.

You’ll always remember that day he came off of the platform. The last time you had seen him had been so long ago, but even then you had noticed the grey of his skin, the pain in his eyes. He was quieter, milder, refusing to speak of the horrors he must have endured, instead focusing on light happy stories. You wondered how much he had changed since then.

He was beautiful.

He still had that boyish look, his sharp jaw and tousled hair, but he looked older, haunted. You felt your knees buckle at the mere sight of him, the way his eyes danced over the platform, looking for something, someone - you. Your eyes met and you watched them glimmer, something you had been starved of for so long that you devoured the feeling. Euphoria bit through your skin and tears pricked at your eyes. You ignored everyone else, storming through the crowd like you were the solider, racing with your arms wide open, not caring how childish you looked. He smiled in what looked like relief and laughed in exhaustion as you fell into his arms. He held you so tight that you could feel the air expel from your chest but you didn’t care, you cried hot, wet tears into his shoulder, and you felt him bury his head in your hair. He looked at you, breathing hard and opening his mouth, but before he could speak you smashed your lips onto his, melting into his touch like all those years ago.

“Welcome home, Tommy.”

——————————————————————

Weeks passed, and it was as if the darkness had seeped into his skin. You longed to tear it off of him, wished that you could swap yourself with him, carry a little bit of his pain, but you knew that was impossible. Night was when he found solace, with you wrapped up in his arms, breathing in your sweet clean scent, something he had been deprived of for far too long. If you strayed too far in the night, woke up for some tea for a sore throat or simply because your mind was restless, you would hear the gut wrenching moans and cries leave his lips and would dart up the stairs two at a time to crawl back onto him. The first time you heard it he sounded like a fox with its paw in a trap, something so inhumane that it stayed with you like an awful lullaby on loop in your brain. As you managed to wake him from his own nightmare, he pulled you impossibly close, breathing into your hair as you whispered words of comfort, feeling utterly helpless.

After the war, everyone had their own poison. Arthur started boxing, channeling his anger and frustration into fighting, Freddie started protesting, looking for change in places he found wrong, and for others like Danny Whizzbang, sometimes the war clung its teeth in too far and refused to let go.

Tommy however, became obsessed with power.

You had known about his incredible work ethic and savvy business skills since the very first day you met, but now his hunger was insatiable. He was up before the birds had started chirping, planting soft kisses on your collarbones as he left for work, and didn’t come to bed until you physically had to drag him away from his desk. You were worried, but as always he conducted himself in a manner that made it seem like he was always in control, smooth and charming, unfazed by his hectic schedule and the looks you sent him.

It came as no shock to anyone that Tommy had been leader of his unit, the kind of man that people would listen to and follow without hesitation, the kind of man that knew how to be in charge. You knew some things about what had happened in the tunnels, horrors so unimaginable that it tore your heart in two to think of him suffering, and you were just left wondering what kind of marks that would leave on a man. His high ranking earned him thanks and praise wherever he went, he was honourable and that lead more and more men to join the Blinders, wanting to be close to such a powerful man, wanting the things he could offer.

The experiences he’d suffered through had led him to become disillusioned and determined to move his family up in the world, especially you. He became increasingly overprotective, a trait you at first found endearing and then ultimately suffocating, you knew he meant you know harm, wanting to shield you from the things he had endured, but you felt like a child again. You longed for trips to the country, to walk along the beach with him, to sleep under the stars, but it was as if that part of him had been killed on the front line.

You would be a liar if you said you were unaware of the illegal activity going on in the betting shop, you had always known of the shady dealings going on behind closed doors, but they thrilled you, excited you, mainly because you always knew that Tommy was in control, he could never get hurt. Your whole life you had always wanted more, hungry for a lifestyle that never bored you, but now you were wondering if you had bitten off too much.

He was changing, morphing in front of your eyes like a creature you had read about in a storybook when you were a child. Growing up his violent tendencies were sporadic, but with both of your fathers being unpleasant men he was always tainted by his family reputation. You had helped sew razor blades into their peaked caps, had seen the fights in the school yard over petty childish things, and had wiped his knuckles clean when he beat Tim Green black and blue after he called  you and Ada vile names. Back then it was exciting, the adrenaline making you fall onto him, enthralled by this beautiful man, feeling safer with him than you had ever felt before, but now you were wondering if you should be scared.

He would rather die than hit you. He had never called you anything other than sugary sweet pet names, never once raised a hand other than to caress your cheek, never in a million years did you think he would ever hurt you, not intentionally. But it pierced your heart like a bullet, walking down the street, watching those you once called friends hide in their houses, whisper his name like it was sour milk, spit at your feet once you had left. It never bothered you what those small minded people thought of you, but knowing the awful things they thought of your Tommy, that killed you. It felt like a knife in your ribs when you leant back against him and felt the unfamiliar weight of a gun tucked into the waistband of his expensive trousers, as if it was nothing more than the cigarettes he constantly carried. It clawed at your throat like a rabid dog, when he came home at midnight, covered in blood that wasn't his, his eyes grey and pale.

You wanted to be by his side throughout everything, holding his hand and being the woman that he had turned to for everything, but it felt like you were hidden in the shadows. He didn’t want you involved, wanting to rise up on his own merit, and give you all of the rewards without seeing the carnage he was leaving behind, but that wasn’t you. You weren’t some housewife who just tended to his wounds and looked the other way when he stuffed the local officers pockets with bribes, you wanted to be his equal.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you, it was that he didn’t trust anyone else.

Some nights you would sit staring at the moon from the windowsill of his small bedroom, reminiscing on making love under his scratchy sheets, giggling into his skin, thinking of days when you would tell him anything and everything, and he would always know what to say. You hated yourself for thinking this way, knowing that he had fought for his country, with the terrors he had lived through, of course he would be a changed man, but this seemed more than that and it tore your heart in half.

He’d slip into the room at midnight, any miseries of the day diminishing when he saw your small frame, and he’d wrap his arms around you, whispering into your hair. Any bad thoughts you had would vanish as he cradled you, reliving all the times you had in the past, feeling as if home was a person, but you would be jolt at his words. He’d tell you of all the things he would buy you one day, spun tales of all the things you deserved as if he could magic them from thin air. He spoke of a large manor, marrying you in a ceremony with a thousand roses, expensive cars and hand-cut jewels, things that were enough to make anyone salivate, but not you.

The war had forced you to put your life in perspective. Those gut wrenchingly long nights away from your lover, biting your lip raw wondering if he was suffering. Days spent feeling numb, trying to distract yourself from thoughts that plagued your head, you wanted to escape. Small Heath had suffocated you, the smoke and the ash now clung to your lungs thicker than ever, and you were desperate for a gasp of fresh air. You thought that was what Tommy wanted too, thought that the both of you would flee Birmingham, climb on to a ship, sail around countries neither of you could pronounce, kiss under hot rain and see the buildings you read about in the newspapers, but maybe not.

You would have to make sacrifices. That’s what love is, you told yourself, tying your hair up with an expensive silk hairband that Tommy had bought, that wasn’t really you. You loved him, adored him,  you were so head over heels with him that the thought of leaving made you feel nauseous. You would follow him to the end of the earth if he asked you to. This was the man you wanted to marry, the only man you could picture yourself having a life with, and you knew that he felt exactly the same. That’s what love is, you remind yourself, staring at the unfamiliar painted face in the mirror, it’s about compromise, right?

When Arthur bought the Garrison, despite Tommy’s apprehension, you took a job as his accountant and secretary, helping him keep business afloat when all he wanted was to drink his money. You fell into a comfortable routine, waking up early and working late, taking extra time on Sundays to learn how to bake, going a little further into town to buy fresh vegetables from the market, reading books that had sat on their shelf for years. You wore a smile that could melt even the toughest of hearts, but deep down you were so mind numbingly bored, it felt like you had slipped on somebody else's skin, trapped in your own ivory tower. It all became worth it though, when Tommy would come home, his skin igniting against yours, lips savouring the taste of your flesh, the only good thing in both of your days. His hips pressed against yours, scratching your nails into his back and feeling him melt under you, enthralled by you, both of you so totally in love that it radiated around the small room, you knew why you did it. Curled under his arm he would smile and laugh, tell you snippets of his day, talk about the future, and hearing his words and charming accent, the way they fell from his lips like wisps of gold, running his hands through your hair, knowing that it was for a better future for both of you, you accepted your fate.

Ada noticed it first. Of course she did, you two were practically sisters. You knew each other like the back streets of Birmingham, like the lines and curves on your hands. She watched the way your vibrancy dimmed until you could fit in with the grey coloured photographs on Polly’s coffee table, listened as your giggles and playful teasing came to a halt and you spent more and more hours alone, separated from the world. She was heartbroken, torn between shaking you and forcing you to come to your senses, willing your vivacious personality to rise to the surface, and knowing that doing so could ruin the best thing Tommy had going for him, and shatter both of you into a million pieces. The rest of the family saw it as well, your light dulling with every day that passed, but they were unsure how to help without stepping over the protective line Tom drew around you, and with business tougher than ever, there was more than enough on their own plates.

To Tommy you were the most precious thing in his life. Because of you, his youth had been damn near perfect, meeting you had changed his life and he felt that he owed you the world. After the war you had rescued him from the depths of his own murky head, your letters and the image of you in his battered brain and been the only thing keeping him alive on he frontline. Whenever he felt like he was drowning, it had always been you that had pulled him from underwater, your smile putting the air back into his lungs. You made him feel alive, made him feel like in the world of smoke and debris he could breathe, that even on his lowest and darkest days, it was you that kept him going, but even he knew that was a lot for a person to carry.

You were wilting like a flower and he despised it. You had always been so beautiful. You could light up a room just by entering it, could trap men and enamour women with nothing but a look, could take his breath away with just a smile, but you were fading away. He had felt the darkness radiating off him since he returned home from the war, and he had fought tooth and nail to stop it corrupting you, you were too perfect, too pure, to be dragged down with him. He thought that he had kept you untainted, thought that he had done what was best for you, but now he wasn’t so sure.

He watched you when you weren’t looking, his eyes always finding your features no matter where you were. Whenever he was nervous or unsure he would find you and his breath would steady and his heartbeat would calm as if you were a shot of rum on his tongue. Almost a year after he had returned home did he start seeing you clearly, he had been so wrapped up in love, in coming home, in becoming the best man he could be, that he had clouded over you like fog on a winter morning. The glisten in your eyes had faded, they had dulled like a worn penny, and your collarbones and ribs began to rise from under your flesh. He tried to think of the last time he had made you laugh, a proper belly laugh like when you were kids, and he came up empty. He knew what the reason was but he refused to accept it, refused to admit that their might be cracks in your perfect relationship, because losing you just might break him.

He tried to be better for you, but he was too far gone. He could feel you slipping away from his fingertips and there was nothing he could do. You had tried to change for him and in the process you had lost part of yourself, and the war had carved a hole between both of you. It was heartbreaking and nauseating, both of you loving each other too much, but ultimately becoming different people. He refused to let you go without a fight, he knew he was being selfish and possessive but he couldn’t just let you leave, you had both been hopelessly in love since the very first day that you had met, you were soulmates. He chain-smoked you like a cigarette, took in your body like it was holy, craved your touch like it was medicinal, you were his everything. You were the reminder of the good days, looking at you and he was transported back to his youth, chasing you under apple trees, kissing until your lips were full and swollen, laughing until your ribs grew rough. You couldn’t imagine life without him, and every evening you clung onto his body, inhaling his sweat and tobacco covered skin, tracing his tattoos like they were bible verses, a million words lingering between you both. You were clinging on for dear life, knuckles glowing white as you refused to release your grip, desperate for everything to work out.

On a Friday, he let you go.

Curled up beside him, you felt otherworldly. He allowed himself moments of weakness around you, to everyone else he was the devil incarnate, but he softened whenever he touched you. He wanted these final moments to last forever, his girl wrapped up in his arms, the only bright light in his world of darkness. Tears were welling in his eyes, something so unfamiliar to him that he had to catch his breath, clear his throat before he could speak.

“I’ve not been good to you.”

Your head rose, resting on his strong chest as you peered at him, noticing how he refused to look at you.

“If I was a better man, a stronger man, I would have let you go sooner.”

“Tommy…”

“I’ve been selfish, little one. Too fucking selfish, and I see that now.”

You sat up further, already knowing his next words, your heart racing like one of his prize mares in your chest. You cling onto him, knuckles tensed as you feel him under you, willing him to look at you, but he can’t. He knows that if he sees your beautiful face, watches the tears slip down your cheeks and your lip quiver, he’ll crumble. That’ll be it, he’ll have broken, sweep you under him and try to piece you back together, but he knows this time he can’t.

You trace your fingertips over the hairs on his chest, the rhythmic motion helping to calm your rapid breathing. You feel like you’re in the firing line, on your knees, head bowed, just waiting for the final shot to blow your skull into pieces.

“I’ve never loved somebody the way I’ve loved you.” He coughs, rubbing his nose, and you’re not sure if its because it’s the tobacco in his lungs or the lump in his throat. “And know I’m realising that, what I’ve put you through, was wrong.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Tom, none of it. I’d do it all again if I could. In a heartbeat.” He knows you’re telling the truth, the honestly in your tone making his heart swell, but it doesn't make it any easier. He knows what he has to do, he has to be the bigger man, no matter how much it’ll wreck him, he has to do the best thing for you.

“I know you would, but that’s not the life you deserve.”

Silence falls across the room. Both of you bathed in smoke and ash and moonlight, memories flutter around you like torn photographs, drifting down onto the wood floor like snowflakes. The air is thick with tears that you both refuse to let slip, you had both known this time was coming since long before either had you had spoken the words. This was love. It tore you and ripped you in half, and neither of you had gone down without a fight. You loved one another so much that it had consumed you, swallowed you both whole and you wouldn’t change a thing. Despite the pain, it had been the best years of your life.

“I don’t think I know how to exist without you.” You confess, your lover such a part of you that it feels like you’re going to lose a limb, a terrible hollow feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“You will. You know I wouldn’t let you go if it wasn’t safe for you, you know I wouldn’t…I’ve got some money for you, to find a place to stay, somewhere far away from here, OK?”

“I’m not taking your money, Tom.”

“Yes you are.You’re not leaving unless I know you’ll be alright, eh?”

“No I’m not T, seriously -”

“Always so bloody stubborn!” He laughed, pinching your outer thigh playfully, a gesture so innocent and intimate and awfully familiar that it makes you both deflate with sadness.

You refuse to let the silence engulf you. Refuse to accept that this might be the last time either of you smell one another’s skin, the last time you can take comfort in one another, refuse to accept that forever might not mean what you thought. Refuse to accept that saying goodbye felt like the right thing.

“Tom. There’s no doubt in my mind that you’ll rule the world one day. But promise me something, promise me you won’t lose yourself? Promise me that you won’t do anything that you can’t come back from. For me?”

He nods, burying his face in your hair.

His exasperated laugh sounds like sparkling champagne, “I almost drove myself mad thinking of what I was gonna say to you, but I couldn’t find the right words.  After everything we’ve been through though, we don’t need words do we, little one? I love you and you love me, that’s more than enough. No matter what happens, it’ll be us forever. Even if we’re apart. We don’t need words to say what we mean.”

Your lips met his, making him come alive just as you had done under the canal all those years ago.

“So let’s not talk.”

Tommy wished forever that he could burn the image of that final night behind his eyelids, see you whenever he closed his eyes. He dreamt that he tatted you on his skin, could trace your figure whenever things got too rough, that you would pull him back to shore. That final night felt like a dream, you both cried, sank into one another’s bodies, muffled one another tears with open mouthed kisses. Your beautiful gangster falling apart only for you, his darling angel clinging to just him in those final hours. Your bodies had intertwined for the last time, exhilarated with lust but exhausted from sadness, communicating through touches and kisses.

Tommy slept the best he had done for years. No dreams of shovels, no thoughts of the business racing through his skull. Instead he let himself get utterly wrapped up by you,falling into a satisfied sleep with his girl next to him. Woozy and delirious, when he first opened his eyes he forgot about everything that had happened, felt that unfamiliar emptiness in the bed beside him and thought that he’d find you nestled in an armchair drinking sweet tea, but nausea filled the pit of his stomach like acid when memories came flooding back.

It wasn’t until he saw the envelope he had filled with notes and coins for you, unopened on the desk, and your treasured photograph of the two of you from that very first beach visit, left on top, painted with a cherry red lipstick print and the words, “Goodbye, Tom. I love you.” Did he lose it. He flung the peaked cap off its hanger, let out an animalistic roar and shattered his fist through the wall, before falling to his knees and burying his head into his hands.

———————————————————————————————-

He had heard that you came back. Similar to a alley cat, you snuck in and out of the city under the cover of moonlight, only being seen by those you wanted. He had heard that when Ada fell pregnant, and she stayed locked away in Freddie’s basement flat, you were the only person she let in. Sometimes he would loiter on those back streets after work, hoping and dreaming for a glimpse of you, something to satisfy his hungry mind, but he never got so lucky. You kept in contact with the others, sending them letters and postcards, but they kept them hidden from him, and he pretended  he didn't fantasise about ripping them open and devouring your words. Polly and Ada would speak of you sometimes, but would fall silent whenever he was nearby, and he would pretend he was unbothered, despite the want of knowing where you were clawing him inside out.

He threw himself into work harder than he had ever done before. He could feel himself slipping away, and without you to ground him he felt the darkness start to consume him, but he would never blame you, you were too good, and he would have ruined you. He dreamt of you every night, thought of you in every spare moment, so it was easier to be doused in another’s blood or making a dangerous deal than to be left alone to his own devices. Wondering if you had met someone new made him feel violently ill, it was like torture thinking of another man making you happy, another man touching you, making you smile. Almost every night he paid a visit to a whore house, fucking somebody else and dreaming it was you, he knew it was unhealthy, but he couldn’t stop. You lingered in his brain constantly like the smoke that left his sullen lips.

He became used the the thought of being alone. Enamoured with the idea of being on top; controlling and dominating the streets was all he cared about. You were always at the back of his mind, wherever he looked he saw you, thought of you, it drove him crazy, but then again you always had. He was in desperate need for a distraction, some form of happiness to grasp after you had left, he knew he had to move on, but he was uncertain he would ever find it again. He had to get used to the nauseating fact that you were gone, and then, like a ball of sunshine, the new blonde barmaid smiled at him and he felt his world lighten.

But now you were back.

————————————————————

He can’t remember walking towards you.

His feet and brain were disconnected, he had become an entirely different person than the calm, collected business man he usually was, his composure crumbling the moment he saw you. The second he saw a falter in your conversation, when you excused yourself from the enamoured, sleazy men around you, practically drooling as you stood before them, did he know he had to say something to you or risk regretting it for the rest of his life.

He apologised quickly to Grace, half heartedly and rushed, something he knew he’d have to explain later, but he couldn’t stop himself. He also didn’t miss the curl of Polly’s lip at the sight of her nephew infatuated with you, reminding her of the teenager she missed dearly.

Every move of his was calculated. From business to his personal life, he refused to let himself be ruled the same as the common man, everything he did was deliberate and precise, but even he’ll admit he was tongue tied as he pushed past the rest of the people in the ballroom, eager to reach his target.

You had stepped outside. Desperate for the relief of cool air against your flesh, the comfort of the stars above you and the solace of a must needed cigarette between your lips. Tommy couldn’t help the smile on his face, 5 years of separation pouring out of him as he exhaled at the sight of you, so close that he could reach out and graze your skin with his fingers. It was intoxicating, you were intoxicating, and he hated himself for still being enchanted with a woman he couldn’t have and shouldn’t want.

Movement behind you made you turn your head, dazed and hazy from the alcohol and the smoke filling your lungs, but you felt stone cold sober as your muddled mind placed the man before you. Air left your body like a pinched ballon, your chest expanding with surprise.

He’ll admit seeing you so flustered at the sight of him did wonders for his ego. Igniting the flame inside of his stomach that proved that you still thought of him, still cared for him. But just as quickly as you lost your cool, you regained it instantly, straightening up and letting a soft smile grace your features, and he felt himself melt.

You looked so familiar, yet different.

You were more tanned, freckles across the bridge of your nose, constellations he could remember tracing when he was a teen. Your hair was longer, tousled into a style he had never seen on you, but it looked right.

He could tell your dress was expensive, embroidered and embezzled with lace and crystals, a finely crafted necklace sliding off of your collar bone, and thoughts of gifts from admiring suitors sent him into a tailspin. He loathed himself for it, but his eyes narrowed to your left ring finger, audibly exhaling when it came up empty, and he didn’t know if he should feel relieved or ashamed.

A moment of silence and shared memories flashed between you quicker than the spark of a match.   A warm familiar feeling brewed in the pit of your stomach, so gut wrenchingly nostalgic you feel as if you have been winded. Both of your senses are heightened, you can smell him, imagine the feel of his hair, despite it being almost shaved to his scalp, imagine the tattoos under his expensive suit, can practically recall your nails tracing them in a sleep induced haze. You had forgotten just how he made you feel, and the recognition makes you both halt.

He breaks the silence first; as if to prove to you his new status. He was no longer as boyish, as playful, he controlled the room, owned it, and the devil sitting on his shoulder wondered if that extended to you.

“Hello, (Y/N).”

“Hello, Tommy.”

He almost falls to pieces at the sound of his name on your sugar sweet lips, reminding him of the times before the war, the times he had locked away in his mind. You’ve turned a strong man weak, rendered him speechless and you grab the control as it slips from his fingertips.

“It’s been a long time, Tom.”

“That it has.”

“You’ve been away for quite some time.” He inhales sharply, determined to clasp the reins once again, determined to dismantle you and get a reaction, “Didn’t even see you at Freddie’s funeral, would have been nice of you to show up.”

The funeral was years ago but he still hates the fact that he hadn’t seen you that day, he was burying one of his best friends and yet you had clawed all over his mind like a virus. He even stayed after everyone had left, saying private words to his friend, and wondering if he could catch a glimpse of you, but that evening he walked home as alone as he came.

You raise a brow in challenge, your eyes glinting with a mix of disbelief and humour. “I stayed with our Ada for over a month when Freddie died, I was by her side through the thick of it. I didn’t come to the funeral out of respect, I didn’t want it to be about anything other than him.”

He swallows your words, nodding slowly. Letting the silence settle around him like smoke before he asks you his next question. “Where did you go?”

A small smile fell on your lips, and you looked up at him in a way that almost made him turn his head as it was too familiar, too painful.

“Anywhere and everywhere. Paris, Rome, Berlin. It was nice to see them rebuild after the war. I stayed in America for a year or so, Boston and New York, and then settled on the beach in California for a bit, it was beautiful.” He listens to every word that escapes your mouth, noting how happy you sound as you describe your travels, so breathless and elated as you reminisce.

“You did always love the sea.” He says gently.

“Yes,” you smile, “I do.”

“What brings you back? To a party like this?” He changes the subject, not wanting to linger in the past, fearful of what that might bring up in him.

“I’ve been in London with a friend, I owe him a favour and ended up here.”

Him. Three words that strike him in the gut and nearly make him double over. He can feel the heat rising in him, he’s married and it’s been years since he’s seen you, but the thought of you with another man makes vomit and red hot anger ascend inside of him.

“He’s just a friend, Tom.” You say slowly, offering him an olive branch, you shouldn’t have to explain yourself but you want to, because it’s just as hard for you. “He owns a distillery but he doesn’t do well at parties, so I offered to take his place.”

He laughs humourlessly, almost breathless from disbelief at the sheer incredulity of it all. “Solomons? Of fucking course.”

“You know of him?” You ask, tilting your head slightly.

“You could say that.”

“Well,” You grin, “Looks as if we have something in common.”

The knowledge that you were mere miles away, laughing with Solomon’s, head thrown back as you made time for a man that wasn’t him, drove the nail further into Tommy’s own coffin.

“So your dress? Your jewels? Presents from him?” It comes out harsher than he intended but he doesn’t care, the sight of you has made him as inebriated as a dozen shots of whisky on an empty stomach and he allows it to distort his words.

“I make my own money, Tommy.” You respond.

He steps closer, the toe of his expensive leather shoe inching towards you like a high tide.

“Do you ever think about me?” The words escape him before he has a chance to stop them, and he sees emotion pool in your eyes, and he watches a breath escape your lips.

“Everyday.”

He isn’t sure what to say, suddenly feeling 15 again, if anyone saw him now they would be in utter  disbelief that he was the same ruthless gangster they knew. He is within reach now, you could extend your fingers and feel him under you like you had once done a million times before, you wonder just how different his lush suit would feel compared to the ones he had run around in when he was a teen. His eyes scour your face, drinking you in like water, comparing your face to the last time he had seen you. Neither of you let your eyes meet one another, darting away like rivals, and yours slip over his head back into the crowd.

“Is that your wife?”

His head snaps up as if he has been doused in ice water, and he follows your gaze across the floor. He sees Grace, surrounded by other women, but her eyes trained on the two of you. He knows later he’ll have a conversation he isn’t ready for, knows he’ll have to explain feelings he’s kept hidden for years, but he turns on his heel, away from his wife and towards you.

“Yes.”

“She’s beautiful.”

“She’s not you.”

Silence. He loathes himself for his words but hates himself even more that he doesn’t regret them.

“Good. You deserve someone better.”

Your eyes finally meet.

His are stoic and unwavering, lacking the spark you loved but still the same ocean eyes you loved to drown in. Yours are filled with emotion, finally exposing yourself after so many years, you soften him to the touch as your eyes meet his, melting him like an icicle.

“I know what you’re thinking, Tom.”

“You always have.”

You smile softly. “I almost came back you know.”

His ears prick up like a bloodhound, his heart bursting under his flesh.

“I heard rumours. People would whisper in the street about a devil, I knew exactly who they meant before they even spoke your name aloud.”

He inhales sharply, not knowing where the story will take him, desperate to regain control but ultimately knowing he’ll always be trailing after you.

“They said you were cunning and brilliant but they also said you were ruthless and cold blooded. They said you were a man on a mission, a man destined to get to the top, they told me they were scared of you. Terrified.”

He steps closer.

“I begged Ada to tell me everything, managed to get her drunk from expensive liquors, you know the ones she loves? The ones that taste like the sweets we would nick after school?”

He nods, the memory distant but familiar. The taste of sugar on your lips, teeth clashing together, giggles that sounded like bells.

“She told me the darkness came back, took you away. She said she was worried for you, she told me she didn’t want to lose her brother, not again. I was going to come back, but I was a coward.” Your voice falters, and he wants nothing more than to cradle you in his arms but he knows he can’t and instead watches the rise and fall of your chest. “I was worried that if I came back you would get worse, I’m not good for you Tom. You know that.”

“You’ve always been good for me.”

“You say that cause you love me,” You tease, “But we’re not kids anymore, Tommy.”

He looks at you, older now, taller. He can remember the colour of your hair from the sun, the grass that stained your knees, the way you felt under him. He can remember everything. If you aren’t good for each other, why is he still under your spell?

He can see the way your face contorts, passion evident on your features.“She told me you met a woman, fell in love and got married. I was mad with jealousy at first, like a bloody woman possessed.”

He hates the way your admission makes him feel smug.

“But Ada, she told me she was good for you. She told me how she makes the shovels stop Tom, she makes you a better man. I knew in that moment that you deserved her, and she deserved you. You deserve to be happy, because you’re a good man, Tom.”

You walk towards him, luring him to you like a ship to the shore. He responds immediately, so close that he can feel the warmth of your body, smell the wildflowers that linger on your neck.

“I asked for a sign that night,” you say softly, “a sign that you would be alright.”

“A sign?” He asks almost playfully, just enough teasing in his tone to remind both of you that maybe he isn’t too far gone.

“Yes, a sign, and I got one.”

You tear your eyes from him, down to your diamond encrusted purse in your hands. You open the clasp, and rummage around, slipping out a piece of paper no bigger than your palm. You rest it against your fingertips before holding it out to him, and he slowly takes it, not missing the sparks he feels as your hands touch.

He turns it over, and let’s out a genuine laugh, one that shocks you both.

It’s a newspaper clipping, from one year ago, the black and white print almost seeming harsh under the light of the moon. He traces the picture with the pads of his fingers, smiling more this evening than he can ever remember.

He clears his throat and reads softly, “Tommy Shelby’s mare “Little One” comes first place at national derby.”

Your eyes connect once again, the corners of your mouth upturned. “Little One.” You repeat, “She was my sign.”

He nods, looking down at the picture of the thoroughbred he loved dearly. “She’s the most beautiful horse I’ve ever seen, but she’s stubborn as all hell, can be aggressive too.”

“She sounds lovely.”

“Oh, that she is.”

You tentatively place one hand onto his chest, as if you are taming a wild animal. He responds to your touch like he’s been craving it his entire life.

“I should go, Tom.”

He doesn’t know what to say, or do, something so rare for a man always one step ahead. All he can think of is to cling to you like a child, wanting to savour the moment for as long as he can.

“I don’t want to lose you, not again.” He admits, his tough facade shattering like glass.

“You let me go once before Tom, you can do it again.”

He holds you against his chest, not bothering to wonder who can see him in such a fragile state. A lifetime of memories flutters between you like pages of a book. Everything unwinding in your mind, tears pricking at the back of your eyes. You feel like a teenager again, can smell him beside you, feeling as if you are curled up back in his single bed, running your fingers through his hair.

“You’re going to go back to your wife, Tom. Your beautiful, kind wife. The wife who is good for you, and you’re going to go and be happy.”

He thinks of it all, the money and the mansion. The power, the gold and jewels and paintings that lather every wall in his house, he thinks of everything he has, and wonders how any of it compares to you.

You place one palm against the side of his cheek, pulling him into you and you shake your head as if you can read his mind. You plant a soft kiss against his skin, it scorches into him like a branding, like rubbing salt on a fresh wound. He exhales shakily, watching as you step away from him, forever beautiful and young and enchanting, slipping back into the teenager he chased around sunflower fields and danced with under the stars. Back then his hands were freckled and tanned, now they are covered in blood.

“Goodbye, Tommy.”

“Goodbye, Little One.”

He swears he only turns away for a second, to locate Grace, to try and think of any explanation for his erratic behaviour this evening, to not let you see the emotion flooding over his face like a tsunami, and when he turns back around, maybe to stop you, or maybe to get one final look before you go, you’re already gone.