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realisticfanfictions · 3 months

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Being Sanji's Girlfriend & Baratie's Head Waitress - Part 3.

Sanji x Waitress!Reader: Part One, Part Two.

Working at Baratie wasn't without its challenges, and the fights that sprung up because of them weren't rare either. You and your boyfriend never sweated the small stuff, after all working in a high stress environment made you, well, stressed. But maybe some things can't be resolved that easily.

Tags: Sanji x Reader, Waitress!Reader, constant bickering, mostly fluff with some angst, (heavy) swearing.

A/N: This one is slightly shorter, but it expands more on Y/N's chartacter and finally introduces her to the rest of the crew! BTW, this series may or may not have turned me into a Taz Skyler fan.

Word Count is 3,475. Hope you enjoy!

Tag list (comment to join!): @siriuslyblackonback

Did you overreact? No. Did you feel bad when you saw the look on Sanji's face as he watched you leave the kitchen? Why the fuck would you? You took a left down the almost endless corridors that made up the Baratie. It wasn't your fault that some kid thought you were a pirate, or 'acted like one', whatever the hell that meant. No, you did know what that meant, and it pissed you off. He meant that you were aggressive, or uncouth, or whatever other adjective fit the slobbering, passed out pirates that littered the Baratie's deck come morning. The same ones that spent the entire night making disgusting comments about how they'd like to force themselves onto the waitresses, or pull a gun out just for the hell of it. But you know what? It wasn't your fault you were like this. You were a byproduct of the most fucked up parts of the world, forged from the suffering of years past and created into what you were by the Devil himself.

And it certainly wasn't your fault when that same kid, the foolish, naive and sheltered brat who had the gull to say that you acted like that, tried to recruit your boyfriend into that cult they called piracy and you got upset. "Freedom, my ass." You hissed under your breath, venom seeping off of every word. You weren't a good person, but at least you didn't try to rip off a restaurant under the guise of being the 'Future King of the Pirates'. You didn't indoctrinate people into that abhorrent lifestyle and pretend that it was all about adventure, and not about pillaging and murder. And you certainly don't pretend that pirates are innocent, little fucking sailors on the high sea singing sea shanties all day long, when all they're good for is taking,

and taking,

and TAKING!

With a yell, you drove your fist into the wall, sending shards of wood scattering in a million directions. You didn't even realise that you were shaking until you fell against the wall, your legs morphing into some gelatinous abomination that couldn't even keep you upright. Did you overreact? The hole in the wall was your answer.

One, you took a deep breath. You're lucky you have a whipped boyfriend who you've somehow conned into putting up with you even though you're fucking nuts.

Two, you exhaled. No, you both have issues and it's pointless to criticise or get hung up on the small things.

Three, your lungs filled with air. You're a fucking disgrace, how dare you storm out there like that?

Four, the carbon left your lungs. You'll need to explain yourself, and apologise for your outburst. You are human and you make mistakes, Sanji will understand. He's good like that.

Five, the air burned as you breathed it in. The amount of mistakes you make is incredible. Your entire existence is one big fucking mistake.

Breathe, (Y/N). Count to five. Breathe in air and breathe out your toxicity. You were a bad person. But, you are stronger than your past, and you deserve better than to be known for your mistakes.

You repeated it like a mantra, a prayer you recited more often than you'd like to admit. The tips of your fingers found themselves entangled in your hair. You overreacted. Why the fuck do you keep overreacting?

"Are you okay?" The voice jolted you back to your senses. With a quiet gasp slipping from your lips, you snapped your head to the source of the sound. There stood someone you vaguely remember serving - a young woman about your age with hair as orange as tangerines. She had a wary look on her face and stood a fair distance from you, but seemed at least somewhat concerned.

You couldn't help but laugh dryly. "I'm alright, thank you." When you untangled your hands from your hair, you tried to ignore the strands that came along with it. "How can I help you?"

Her eyes flicked up and down. "Out of the two of us, I think you're the one who needs help." She paused. "You're our waitress, right? The one who helped us get the table."

By the time she was done speaking, you had pushed yourself off the wall and tugged at the hem of your shirt to drag out any crinkles. "I'm not exactly the model employee at the moment, but that's me. I'm not working currently, but you can always ask if you need something."

A contemplative look crossed her face. "If you're off the clock, why don't you come have a drink?"

You held up a hand. "Sorry, but I'm not really meant to be-"

"It's just a drink." She stated and walked a couple feet toward you. "Just as thanks for the table, and you look like you need one."

Her eyes were honest, and although you could see something hidden far behind them like a memory she was trying to forget, your shoulders dropped and you nodded. "That would be lovely, thank you."

She smiles and turns to walk toward what you now realised was the sounds of the bar. With how close you were to well-over one-hundred patrons, you weren't surprised that you were found practically hyperventilating in the corner. You were, however, glad that it was this kind stranger. Or perhaps she wasn't kind at all, you weren't sure yet.

The orange-haired woman brings you past passed out sailors to the back of the deck where the silhouettes of two men already were. "You're (Y/N), right?" She asked as she took a seat and offered you a glass from the table. "I'm Nami." She pointed to the man in the pirate costume noisily slurping out of a ceramic bowl - the Ultimate Tropical Dream, your mind reminded you. "That's Ussop," She then pointed without looking to the man beside her who's eyes hadn't left you since you approached. "And that's Zoro." She nodded as she took a sip of her drink. "Take a seat."

You hesitated, but sat down. Your eyes naturally drifted to the green-haired man, Zoro. "Pleased to make your acquaintance." While you spoke to the group, its true intention was a question. Did he know you?

Zoro sat back and hummed. "Likewise." He grunted and took a swing. No. Then his gaze finally broke from you to the other male. "Pace yourself."

Ussop moaned into his drink and slurped. "I don't think there's any liquor in this, it tastes just like candy."

"Last time I said that, I woke up face down under a table." The swordsman muttered both as an admission of fault and a warning to the naive pirate.

You nodded, taking a quick sip of your own drink. "The Ultimate Tropical Dream has four-seven ounces of rum, four of vodka, and seven of filler. Fucking filthy fads get you shit-faced faster than a fleeting face, but Fred can help with that. He's the fourth one down and sometimes he won't do it, but just needs some persuasion. So when you want to get a Tropical Dream, you force the four to pour four-fourths Warmth North, four-sevens froth, seven-fours broth, no cloth, henceforth no wroth. Got it?"

All three stared in your direction, blinking. "I... think I'm fine, thanks." Ussop replied and took another sip.

"I need a drink." Zoro mutters and brought his glass up to his face. His eyes crossed over to Nami. "That glass have gold on the bottom, or what?" At her confused expression, he tilts his head. "You haven't stopped staring at it."

She looked over at you, and you shrugged. "I'm just a waiter."

Her gaze lingered on you for a second, before going back to Zoro. "You don't think what Luffy did was messed up?"

The swordsman paused and set his drink down. "Yeah. He should've told us." You took a sip out of your own drink as they talked. "But in case you haven't noticed, we've been making enemies everywhere we go. Psycho-clowns, killer butlers. What's a vice-admiral gonna do to us?" You almost choked on your drink.

"No, you don't get it." Nami's face shifted between emotions. "I can't get caught, not when I'm so close-" She cut herself off and stared at her cup for a second, before getting up. "Who's ready for another drink? My treat."

Zoro hummed. "My favourite kind of drink." He watched as she walked off, and his gaze turned back to you. "You seem a bit lost."

You huffed. "All I know is my drinking partners are being hunted down by a vice-admiral, of course I'm fucking lost."

For some reason, that caused the uptight man to let out a small chuckle. "Drinking partners, huh?" He commented and swirled the contents of his glass. "Haven't had a drinking partner in a while."

As he spoke, you finished off your glass and set it down with a wince. "Me neither, Sanji's great but can't handle anything with booze in it to save his life."

"That's that waiter boyfriend of yours." He said as he looked at your finished glass and took a sip of his drink. "Where's he now?"

You shrugged. "Your boss tried to recruit him, so I did the mature thing and stormed out."

A smile grew on his face. "Really? That's Luffy for you. Is he joining?"

"No offense, but I don't think he'd wanna run with your type."

At that, his eyes squinted ever so slightly. "My type?"

"Pirates," You reminded him. "He's not really the pillaging type."

"Neither are we."

You hummed. "It's a wonder how you can pay for all this then." You pointed to Ussop, who's now beginning to blink very slowly. "A Tropical Dream costs at least seventy-five berri without all that fancy shit added to it, and everything needs to be paid upfront. I'm looking at this table and... I see about three-hundred berri worth of drinks? Not including other drinks the waitresses must've taken. And I'm pretty sure pirates don't have normal jobs, and you don't seem like hired guns." You leaned back, staring into his eyes. "So if you're not plundering, then who is?"

Zoro stared at you with an unreadable expression. His eyes ghosted over your form, lingering near your thigh where you kept your gun, before lifting back up to your face. He looked away and finished his drink.

When Nami got back, the tense atmosphere was lifted and you were able to properly enjoy yourself. True to the swordsman's words, Ussop was under the table before he finished his second Vodka Sunrise. He giggled and you had to catch him as he slid down the couch, righting him up with a laugh. “I'm fine.” He slobbed out, his words almost incomprehensibly slurred.

You shook your head with a smile plastered on your face, pushing him into his seat. “I'm pretty sure you're not.” You replied with a small chuckle.

"What'd I tell you?" Zoro asked after he finished his beer with a sigh. "You can't handle your liquor at all."

You smiled and took a sip of your drink. "Sanji can't either, he gets a red face just smelling it."

The shit-faced man, who apparently was a sniper according to Nami, puffed out his chest. "Hey! I can... drink." He pushed off of you and wobbled to his feet. You held out your hands as you watched him stumble forward. "I'm going to get us... more drinks!" He slurred and almost tripped over his feet, but managed to walk himself over in the vague direction of the bar.

You laughed and took a gulp of your drink. "He's certainly a character."

Zoro nodded, face split with his own smile. "Ussop's spirited, but not good with spirits." You both shared a small chuckle and went to drink, but frowned at your empty glass. Hearing Nami chuckle, you looked back up and laughed at the completely distracted Ussop who had begun to drunkenly sway his body around.

"He does have a certain grace about him. Like a frantic, uncoordinated..."

"Sea slug." Zoro contributed with a smirk.

Nami nodded. "That's it. That's what he's like." Her eyes remain fixed on him. "Look at him. Like he doesn't have a care in the world."

Her tone was unusual to say the least, and you placed your glass back down on the table. Zoro was the first to speak. "What are you carrying around that's so heavy?" Whether it was the alcohol, or him feeling more comfortable around you, he didn't so much as look your way when asking the navigator.

Nami's eyes flashed between the both of you. "You have no idea."

You scoffed and pinched a chip from the centre of the table. "You'd be surprised. You're an open book."

Zoro nodded. "And I bet I know more about you than you do about me."

Nami quirked an eyebrow at the both of you. "Yeah right, you both are open books."

"Care to prove it?" When he prompted her, she recoiled slightly but otherwise didn't have much of a reaction. He grabbed the bottle of rum from the table and poured it into some empty shot glasses. "Whoever guesses something right about the other person, that person has to drink." He looked over at you and nudged a glass in your direction. "You in?"

You shrugged. "Sure."

But it seemed as though Nami forgot you were there. She leaned toward Zoro and forced a smile. "Go ahead, tell me all about myself."

He thought about it for a second, then spoke. "I bet you grew up in a big city, running schemes, hanging out in swanky bars like this one."

"You must be thirsty." Her tone dripped with venom.

"You're saying I'm wrong?"

She paused for a second. "I grew up in a small village. Barely a village. Just a handful of houses in the centre of a tangerine grove. Drink." You watched her as she spoke, a dreamy look in her eyes before she came back to reality.

He set down his shot glass. "Your turn."

Nami smirked. "I had you read all the way back in Orange town. I'll bet you didn't have any friends as a kid."

"I had friends."

"Swords don't count."

Zoro was quiet. "I had one friend."

The orange-haired woman's smile grew sad. "Hell, one more than I had." She also went quiet. "Drink."

Zoro grew a smile on his face. "Drink." They both had a shot, then he turned to you. "You're quiet, all of a sudden."

You forced a smile. "Just letting you two bond over your miserable childhoods."

Nami let out a scoff, but a smile wormed its way onto her face. "Fine. I'll bet you had a miserable childhood too?"

"Be more specific."

Zoro hummed. "So it was a miserable childhood?" He smirked and looked away, waited a moment, then returned his gaze. "I bet the reason you hate pirates is 'cause you had a really strict marine dad."

You chuckled and shook your head, the comment catching you off guard. "Can't be further from the truth." You replied and raised your shot glass. "Drink."

Nami piped up. "I'll bet you hate pirates because one raided your village."

"I didn't grow up in a village," You gestured to her. "It was privately owned land about three hours from any major landmark. The only way to get there was by trekking through miles of swamp filled with crocodiles the size of ships, or by docking on a tiny piece of coast hidden by whirlpools."

She finished her drink. "Privately owned land?"

"Nobles." You replied. "They owned half the island, and owned all the business on the other half. They were pretentious, entitled and made us live in houses no bigger than a shitter, but they were good people." You pushed down the memory. "Anyway, I'm sick of being asked stuff. I'm going to guess." You cleared your throat and looked to Zoro. "I bet that you grew up never having a real connection with anyone."

He tilted his head and was silent for a moment. "Define 'real connection.'"

You adjusted yourself in your seat. "You've never loved someone and you've never felt loved. That's why it's hard for you to trust people, you've never had anyone to trust."

He gave a half-shrug and took a shot. "Lucky."

You smiled and looked at Nami. "And I bet that you did something you're not proud of."

Her smile didn't fade, but the genuineness of it did. "How do you mean?"

"You have a look in your eye. Concealed guilt. You think you're a bad person because you've done something you think is bad."

"Well, actions speak louder than words."

"You're wrong." You respond flatly. "A child rapist can give to charity, and a serial killer can help a little old lady down a flight of stairs. It doesn't mean they're a good person. A Saint can trip someone, and a child can bully their friend. It doesn't mean they're bad people."

"So, if it's a mistake it can be excused."

"No. It's intent. That's why we forgive people when they trip us, or if someone accidentally splashes us with water - it's not their intent to cause offense or harm. If you don't intend to harm people, then you're not a bad person. if you, say, wish to create a more peaceful world for people to live in, but you intend to enslave others to do so, then you're a bad person."

"Then, what if by doing something important, you have to do something bad?" The look in her eye was fierce, but you could see past that.

"That's different again. If you're on a rescue mission to save orphans or puppies and you're dangling from a ledge with a rope connecting you to another person, wouldn't you have to cut them loose?"

"But, you've still killed them."

"You don't know that. Without having you fall on top of them, they could survive and reunite with you after you've saved the kids or whatever the fuck it is. You're not a terrible person, you're a good person who had to do a terrible thing. You didn't want to." You gestured to her with your drink in hand. "I think you had your orphans you had to save, and you had to cut someone loose."

You both stared at each other, the atmosphere suddenly becoming tense and unbearable.

"Hey guys, meet my new best friend." Ussop suddenly landed on your lap and looked behind him. "What'd you say your name was again?"

You looked behind you, and a pit formed in your stomach. There stood a man in a decorative coat with a cross hanging from his neck. You recognised him instantly, and judging from Zoro's expression, he did too. "Which one of you is Monkey D. Luffy?"

Nami, finally tearing her eyes from you, smiled. "Who wants to know?"

Zoro straightened. "You're Dracule Mihawk."

Your hand went toward your gun, but a set of piercing eyes halted your movement. It was like being held in chains, and your fingers refused to move. He loomed over you menacingly. "I have business with your captain. If you know what's good for you, you'll hand him over."

"We don't know anyone named Luffy. Right, Zoro?" As smart as she looked, she caught on quick. Zoro rose to his feet, and you were released from your invisible restraints when Mihawk's eyes ghosted over to him. "Zoro?"

The swordsman stepped toward him. "I've been following your career since I was a child. It's an honour to finally meet you, sir."

"Thank you."

He walked past the older swordsman. "Which is why it pains me to inform you that tomorrow, you're going to die."

Your body was thrown into shock, and Nami spoke instead. "What?"

He ignored the both of you and turned to face Mihawk. "I, Roronoa Zoro, challenge you to a duel to the death."

All of you sobered up quickly, and you grabbed your gun. But Mihawk ignored you, turning to face your drinking companion with the tilt of his head. "I've never heard of you."

"They call me the Demon Pirate Hunter," Like a predator analysing his prey, Mihawk's eyes ghosted over his form. "But my lifelong dream is to best you in single combat, and become the greatest swordsman in the world."

"You're serious?"

"Accept my challenge. You'll see how serious I am."

Mihawk paused for a moment, then nodded. "Very well." His strides were long as he approached the young man. "Tomorrow at dawn. And when I'm done with you, pirate hunter, I'll take your captain." The older swordsman's face didn't change, but his walk was different. He disappeared into the shadows of night.

Nami's face was twisted into one of horror. "What have you done?"

A/N: Wow! This chapter gave me some trouble! It was originally going to be completely different, but the flow was off and it honestly would have ruined Zoro's character. So I ended up having to rewrite all of it. I've been slightly teasing it, but next part will have more action in it! I just wanted to establish character relationships and actually give Y/N reasons to do things, as well as get more of her motivation/backstory out there.

#sanji x reader #opla sanji x reader #opla sanji x y/n #opla x reader #opla sanji #sanji vinsmoke #one piece #anime #fanfiction #writing #black leg sanji #one piece sanji #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #roronoa zoro #blackleg sanji #straw hat pirates

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its-all-or-nothing94 · 9 months

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Racing Hearts - Part 1 // Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: Charles Leclerc, a beloved and celebrated F1 driver, yearns for a meaningful connection amidst the glitz and glamour of his high-profile job. As the Monaco GP is around the corner, he fatefully crosses paths with Y/N Y/L/N, an ordinary girl who captures his heart with her genuine personality and kind spirit.

Masterlist

Warnings: None

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

A/N: Sooo, this is my first F1 Story :) I hope you enjoy it. It's a typical romance for all you romance lovers out there ;) Like, Reblog, tell me what you think :D It's highly appreciated!

Disclaimer: This story is purely fictional, and any character portrayals are just how I wrote them - hence fictional! I don't know them, except my OCs.

Tagging: @liebgotts-lovergirl, @softly-writes, @bellewintersroe (I thought, you might enjoy this ;))

The streets of Monaco shimmered under the golden rays of the sun, casting an ethereal glow upon the grand city. You stood at the edge of the bustling harbor, your eyes wide with wonder. You had arrived in this glamorous playground by chance, a spontaneous detour on your adventure across Europe. The winding cobblestone streets, the opulent yachts bobbing in the azure waters, and the hum of wealthy tourists filled the air, creating an atmosphere of indulgence and sophistication.

Your Y/H/C hair fell softly around your sun-kissed shoulders as your Y/E/C eyes scanned the crowd, searching for your best friend, Sofia. Minutes turned into an impatient eternity until, finally, a familiar figure emerged from the throng. Sofia Santoro, her dark hair cascading down her back, approached with a radiant smile that reached her warm brown eyes. You embraced, reuniting after weeks of exploration and discovery.

"Y/N!" Sofia exclaimed, her voice alive with excitement. "You won't believe the sights I've seen! And the food... Oh, you have to try the pastries here. They're heavenly."

You chuckled, your spirited personality shining through. Sofia lived here for a year now, and finally, you came to visit your best friend. "I can't wait to hear all about it, Sof. Monaco truly is a dream."

As you strolled through the luxurious streets, your laughter mingling with the splash of waves, an unexpected occurrence startled them. You stumbled, your steps faltering as if an invisible force had collided with you.

"What is it?" you asked your best friend, but Sofia just looked at you, confused.

"I didn't say anything... But hey, there is that store I told you about. Be right baaack", she sings as she walked away into the store across from the harbor.

You, meanwhile, stood at the edge of the Monte Carlo harbor, your eyes wide with wonder as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the glistening water. The air was thick with anticipation as if the city itself was holding its breath, awaiting the arrival of someone extraordinary.

You took a deep breath, the salty scent of the sea mingling with the aroma of fresh pastries wafting from a nearby café. Your heart fluttered with excitement as you adjusted the strap of your worn leather backpack, the only constant companion on your solo adventure across Europe.

"A breathtaking view, isn't it?"

You turned your head, Y/E/C eyes meeting the warm gaze of a stranger beside you. Chestnut hair, emerald green eyes, and a smile that could light up the night sky - it was as if destiny had brought you together at this very moment. Your heart skipped a beat as you stumbled back, blushing furiously.

"Uh, yes, it is," you stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

The young man chuckled, a sound that was both melodic and infectious. "Apologies if I startled you. I couldn't help but notice your awe as you took in the beauty of Monaco."

Your cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of crimson, your Y/H/C waves tumbling down to frame your face. "It's just...I've dreamed of visiting this place for so long. And to see it like this, it's...magical."

"I couldn't agree more," he replied, extending a hand. "I'm Charles, by the way."

You couldn't say much as you were captivated by him. "Euh Y/N," you managed to squeak out, a shaky hand reaching out to meet his.

Your fingers intertwined an electric current passing between you. At that moment, the noise of the bustling harbor faded, and it was as if they were the only two people in the world.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Y/N," Charles said, genuine warmth in his voice. "Are you enjoying your time in Monaco?"

You nodded, a shy smile gracing her lips. "I am. I've been traveling across Europe, and this is my last stop. My best friend moved here last year. Her dad is a designer, and she took over the store here. But it feels...right, being here."

Charles's eyes sparkled with interest as he leaned in closer. "And for how long are you staying?"

You hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. But with Charles, there was a certain comfort, an inexplicable connection that compelled you to share the truth.

"I actually don't have a set schedule. I'm a freelance photographer taking a break, so I... have no obligations."

Charles chuckled, his cute dimples appearing on his cheeks. "That actually sounds quite nice. Not having any obligations, I mean."

You smiled at him as the bell on the store door rang, and Sofia made her way back to you.

"Okay, I've got everything, we can... go," Sofia said, the last word hesitant, finally noticing Charles. "Uh, hi," she greeted, and Charles nodded in response with a small smile.

A young man who bore an uncanny resemblance to Charles walked out onto the street from behind him. You guessed that this must be his brother. He called out something in French and waved at Charles, eyeing him for a second, before disappearing back into the restaurant.

"I have to go," Charles said. "But maybe we'll see each other again, Y/N. It was really nice meeting you."

He nodded at Sofia before following his brother into the restaurant. You watched him leave with a content smile.

"Oh my god! Do you know who that was?!" Sofia exclaimed as soon as Charles was gone.

You looked at her, confused, while you shrugged. "He said his name is Charles."

"Yeah, Charles fucking Leclerc! The Formula 1 driver? Don't tell me you don't know him?"

Sofia raised her eyebrows at you, making you feel foolish.

"What?"

Sofia put her hand on her hip and rolled her eyes. "You just flirted with one of the most famous Formula 1 drivers there is. He's from Monaco, and you, my dear, didn't even recognize him."

"Why would I? I've never watched Formula 1!" you defended yourself.

Sofia shook her head. "No, you haven't. But he definitely had his eyes on you, girl." Sofia smiled widely and nudged you.

"So? It's not like I'm going to see him again," You shrugged, turning your gaze back to the ocean.

"Oh, don't be so quick to dismiss it, girlfriend. Monaco is a magical place. And if he wants to find you, he will find you, I promise."

Meanwhile, at the restaurant, the Leclerc family had gathered, rejoicing in the reunion of all the children back in Monaco.

"Who was that? Another tourist fan?" Arthur inquired, settling down beside their mother, Pascale, and their brother Lorenzo.

"No, actually, she wasn't," Charles responded. "I don't think she even knew who I was."

Pascale glanced at her two sons. "What are you talking about, mon chéris?" she asked just as their entrees arrived.

"Charles was talking to a girl outside. I thought she was a fan," Arthur explained, and Pascale turned her attention to Charles.

"A girl?"

Charles seemed slightly irritated by his younger brother. "It's nothing, Maman. We were just discussing Monaco, nothing more."

Pascale studied her son's face. She knew him well enough to sense that there was more to the story than met the eye.

She sighed. "Well, as long as you don't plan on rekindling things with that dreadful Isabella..."

"Maman!" Lorenzo interjected, shaking his head slightly.

"What? They're not together anymore, so I can speak my mind, can't I?" Pascale asked, looking at Charles, who shook his head, annoyed.

Charles loved his mother, but she had a tendency to be outspoken, even when it would be best to hold her tongue. Charles knew his mother had never approved of his ex-girlfriend, Isabella Rossi. They had met at a charity event in Monaco, where Isabella's wealthy businessman father and her career as a model brought them together.

Initially, Isabella was sweet and caring, and Charles had fallen deeply in love with her. However, after four years, his feelings changed. When he confided in his brothers, best friend Pierre, and his athletic trainer Andrea Ferrari, they all agreed that their relationship had become toxic.

Ending things with Isabella hadn't been easy for Charles. The life of a Formula 1 driver could be lonely, constantly jetting around the world. Having someone who cared about him was a comfort. But eventually, Charles accepted the fact that his feelings had faded, and he ended the relationship. Needless to say, Isabella didn't take it well.

That had been a month ago, and ever since, she had made numerous attempts to win him back. As the Monaco Grand Prix was just around the corner, she knew Charles was back home.

"You can, Maman, and you know it. But can we just enjoy dinner and talk about something else?" Charles asked, digging into his pasta.

"She was really pretty," Arthur chimed in, causing Lorenzo and Charles to look at him, perplexed. Arthur couldn't be referring to Isabella. Arthur, noticing his brothers' confusion, rolled his eyes. "The girl outside? She was really pretty. Are you going to see her again?"

Charles glanced at Arthur for a moment. "Why would I?" he asked, although deep down, he wanted to. There was something about Y/N that stirred something inside him as if she were something special.

"Why not? Don't tell me you don't want to see her again. I saw the way you looked at her, Charles."

Charles took a deep breath. "Even if I wanted to, Art, I don't have her number, just her first name. I don't even know where she's from."

Arthur looked at Charles with an exasperated expression. "Are you shitting me?"

"Arthur!" Pascale immediately intervened.

"Sorry, Ma. But seriously, Charles. You know that if you want to find her, you will. We all know that. So get off your ass and go find that girl!"

"Is she really that special?" Lorenzo asked, looking at Charles.

The middle brother hesitated and then nodded. "I don't know why, but I have this feeling that our story isn't finished yet."

Pascale kept a watchful eye on her son. She took a deep breath and spoke up. "Then why don't you look for her, Charles? If she truly is that special."

Charles looked surprised at his mother. Pascale wasn't one to believe in fate, but if even she was advising him to pursue it, then he knew he should.

He set his fork down and gazed at his family, one by one. "Okay, starting tomorrow, we'll begin searching for Y/N."

"We?" Lorenzo immediately questioned, but Arthur simply nodded and grinned.

Basking in the warm Mediterranean sun, you and Sofia lounged beside the pool at Sofia's opulent apartment the next morning, which her father had graciously rented for her. You relaxed, sipping on glasses of wine and sharing laughter as you reminisced about your European escapades. However, Sofia's mischievous grin indicated that she had something up her sleeve.

"Sooo, Y/N," Sofia said, her grin widening, "Oh my gosh! I can't get over what went down yesterday with Charles Leclerc!"

You blushed slightly, attempting to downplay the encounter. "Oh, come on, Sof. It wasn't that big of a deal. We just chatted for a few minutes. It doesn't mean anything."

Sofia playfully raised an eyebrow. "No big deal? I saw the way he looked at you, and trust me, that wasn't ordinary. Charles is a charming guy, but he's not usually so forward with strangers."

You took a sip of her wine, trying to conceal your excitement, and shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, he was simply being friendly, right? I mean, he interacts with fans all the time. I didn't even know who he was until you told me."

Sofia shook her head, her grin refusing to fade. "Are you serious? The way he gazed at you, Y/N. Trust me, he knows you left an impression."

You shook your head at your friend, well aware of Sofia's tendency to read too much into things. "Yeah, right."

"But Y/N, I've seen Charles with fans before. He's usually reserved, quiet. Yet with you, it was like there was something more. He couldn't take his eyes off of you," Sofia stated, sitting up from the sunbed and raising her sunglasses. "I'm serious!"

You looked at your best friend, your cheeks tinged with a hint of red. "I-I don't know what you're talking about. It was just a chance encounter, nothing more."

Sofia's eyes sparkled with excitement as she continued to prod. "Oh, come on, Y/N! You can't deny the connection between you two. It was written all over his face."

You rolled your eyes. "Could you just stop? I'm not even looking for someone at the moment, and you know that. After everything that happened with Oliver..."

Sofia sighed. "I know, I know. He was a jerk, and you've sworn off love. Got it." She slipped her sunglasses back on. "But I'm still rooting for the perfect celebrity love story." She reclined back into her chair.

You glanced over at your best friend, and then you couldn't help but burst into laughter at the absurdity of the situation.

You lingered at the pool a little longer, enjoying the warm sun on your skin. Suddenly, Sofia's phone interrupted your peaceful moment. She quickly answered, speaking rapidly in both Spanish and French. After hanging up, she turned to you with an apologetic look. "Please don't be upset with me," she pleaded, and you raised an eyebrow in curiosity. Sofia sighed, explaining, "There's an issue at my dad's store that he insists I handle personally. I'm really sorry, Y/N."

You studied your best friend for a moment before responding, "No worries, Sof. I can handle some alone time."

Sofia observed your determined expression. "Are you sure? I promised I would clear my schedule for you."

You sat up and grasped Sofia's hand. "Hey, don't worry about it. I've been traveling solo through Europe for the past six months, so I think I can handle an afternoon alone."

Sofia chuckled, grateful for her best friend's easygoing nature. That was one of the reasons she loved you so much.

Thirty minutes later, Sofia arrived at her father's store. "Okay, what's the problem?" she asked her employee, Cassandra, who explained the situation. The problem turned out to be more time-consuming than Sofia had anticipated. After three exhausting hours, they finally resolved everything. Annoyed, Sofia walked to the counter and set down her phone, which she had used frequently throughout the afternoon. Suddenly, the bell above the door jingled, causing her eyes to widen.

"I knew it!" she exclaimed, her gaze fixed on the individual who had just entered the store. With a wide grin, she approached none other than Charles Leclerc, accompanied by his brother Lorenzo. "I knew you would come back."

Charles looked at her, initially confused, before recognition dawned on him. "Wait, I saw you yesterday, didn't I?"

Lorenzo glanced between Sofia and Charles, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"Yes, you did. At the harbor!" Sofia replied excitedly.

"So, we finally found her?" Lorenzo asked hesitantly, trying to make sense of the situation.

Sofia smiled at Lorenzo. "Yeah, it's not her," Charles clarified, causing Lorenzo's attention to snap back to his brother. "But she's the friend with the designer store."

Sofia maintained her smile, shrugging lightly. "That's me, and I'm thrilled you found me. But on the other hand... How?"

Charles chuckled. "Y/N mentioned that she was visiting a friend here who owns a designer store. So we went from store to store today, searching for a clue. And now we've found you."

"You searched all over for her?" Sofia asked, amazed. Charles nodded. "That's incredibly sweet."

A faint blush tinted Charles' cheeks. "So, can you tell me where she is?"

Sofia's smile persisted as she replied, "No."

Lorenzo's head shot up, confusion etched on his face. "No?"

"No... I mean, yes, but let me explain. She's at my place and, well... Okay, never mind. I have a proposition for you. Y/N and I will be at Jimmy'z tonight, so why don't you surprise her and join us there?" Sofia proposed, locking eyes with Charles before glancing at Lorenzo.

Charles exchanged a brief glance with his brother before turning back to Sofia. "We'll be there!"

Lorenzo looked at his younger brother, still perplexed. "We will?"

Charles met Lorenzo's gaze with a firm expression. "We will," he affirmed.

Sofia's grin widened, and she nodded enthusiastically. "Great! OMG, Y/N will be overjoyed when she sees you. She didn't want to believe me when I told her you would search for her and that you two had a special connection..." Sofia rambled, noticing Charles' amused expression.

"Sorry," Sofia finally said, realizing she had been babbling.

Charles chuckled. "It's okay. See you tonight." He took his brother's arm, and they exited Sofia's store.

A mischievous smile played on Sofia's lips as she watched them leave. Oh, Y/N was going to love this.

Upon returning home, Sofia found you emerging from the shower, clad in towels. As you applied moisturizer, Sofia entered the room with a smile on her face.

"Oh, you're back," you greeted your best friend.

"I am, and I come bearing gifts as an apology for taking so long," Sofia replied, placing a jaw-dropping black dress with golden sequins on your bed.

Curiosity piqued, you examined the beautiful garment. "Sof, no! I can't accept this, and you know it," you protested. You were well aware of Sofia's affluent background and her tendency to shower you with gifts, but you always declined.

"Come on! It's from my store, and I insist, Y/N. I want you to have it," Sofia insisted, revealing a pair of matching shoes from behind her back.

Your fingertips trembled with anticipation as your gaze shifted from the mesmerizing dress to Sofia and back again. With a gentle, hesitant touch, your fingers delicately brushed against the luxurious fabric. It felt soft and smooth beneath her touch, its fine craftsmanship evident in every thread. The sensation sent a shiver of excitement through you, making you appreciate the dress even more. "No, Sof... I wouldn't even know when to wear it..."

"Oh, I do! How about tonight, at Jimmy'z?" Sofia proposed.

"Jimmy'z?" you questioned. "Oh, no, Sof! You know I despise those types of clubs..."

Sofia draped her arm around you, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Well, that's a shame, but there's no way you're getting out of this one, my dear. I've already made all the arrangements."

With that, Sofia pranced out of your room, leaving her best friend in stunned silence. However, a smile crept onto your lips as you shook your head in amusement. Once again, you gazed at the dress. It truly was a stunning piece, and in that moment, you felt a flicker of excitement at the thought of wearing it tonight.

>> Part 2

#Charles Leclerc #Charles Leclerc x Reader #Charles Leclerc Fanfic #Formula 1 x reader #Formula 1 #Charles Leclerc Romance #Formula 1 Romance #Ordinary x Celebrity #Celebrity relationship #Racing Hearts #Kim writes again

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beanghostprincess · 5 months

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Seven-year-old Luffy meets Uta and he is the happiest he's ever been because he finally has a friend. Someone to hang out with who is not the same age as him but close enough. Close enough to be something more than a friend. An older sister, maybe. She appears out of nowhere, on a ship full of dreams and songs and adventures Luffy is dying to go explore too. She's a song that never ends. A song that still keeps playing in his heart when the ship disappears into the sea once again. And he waits and waits for her to come back. He never realized how quiet the village was before Uta came into his life. And then, after singing to himself for God knows how long, the ship meets shore again. But the song suddenly stops. The music that never ended finally has played its last note. Shanks only gives him a vague excuse for his sister's absence and smiles, full of sorrow and guilt but Luffy only sees lies and betrayal and- He can't hear the song anymore. Doubts he ever will again.

But he has to move on because Uta told him to be strong. To follow his dream the way she's following hers if what Shanks said is true.

Then Sabo and Ace come into his life just as suddenly, like a storm. A messy one that makes the uncontrollable waves of the sea sink ships and makes adventures more interesting. The one that dirts your clothes and makes you cold and want to run against the wind. The one that's stopped by the warmest of suns and hottest of summers. And they love him the way Uta did and he loves them the way he never thought he would again. And this time they do say they're brothers, unlike the silent promises he made with the diva. He keeps wondering if they would have gotten along (probably not, because Uta is everything they are not. She's idealistic but thinks things through. And she's sweet and clean and she would hate the way Sabo and Ace are optimistic in a careless way. And how they're rough and caring but dirty. She would say she hates it. She would only say it. Because she might be a diva, but she's also a pirate, after all). And he never mentions her to the guys because there's no need to keep singing a song that's playing too far away for him to listen to it. They'll meet eventually. The four of them. Maybe Shanks too, even.

But it never happens. And Luffy feels like he's soaked in seawater because he's the weakest he's ever been. It's not like losing a limb, like Ace describes, but like losing his strength. Dreams. Soul. And he feels himself melt and drown in tears he can't stop. Ace tells him to be stronger, and Luffy remembers Uta. He should have known better back then too. He lost her and he doesn't know where she is because he wasn't strong enough for Shanks to tell him. He wants to become stronger so he never loses anybody again.

At least he has Ace, though. Ace will never die. And he promises it like Luffy is stupid for having the mere, irrational fear of Ace disappearing. So he believes him.

It's a lie. He lied. He lied. He lied.

It's freezing cold when he loses ace. Literally. His lifeless body rests on the floor and Luffy's hands are soaked in cold blood that was once what decorated Ace's heart. His laugh. His touch. His promises. Everything's gone except his smile. And Luffy wants to die, too. Because if he can't be strong enough to keep his family or his crew, he has nothing else to fight for anymore. He can only hear Ace's vivre card burning down into ashes while the last drop of blood falls to the ground in the middle of a battle Luffy doesn't care anymore about.

Uta. Sabo. Ace.

No songs to sing. No sea to sail. No fire to be warm.

#he's fine guys then jinbe helps him out!! :)#and then sabo comes back!!#and then uta comes back!!#and then *film red spoilers that you already know*#i want to hug luffy so fucking bad #one piece #monkey d. luffy #uta one piece #revolutionary sabo #portgas d ace #asl brothers

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maniculum · 1 year

Text

200 13th-Century Names

I've made a thing and thought others might be able to get some use out of it. If you just want the d100 tables, scroll down to the cut and skip my rambling as to what this list is. Short version, it's a d100 table of male names and a d100 table of female names, taken from 13th-century English records and trimmed to minimize names that were used within the last 140-odd years.

While working on my Dungeon23 project (updates collected here, by the way), I was looking for names for my NPCs, and stumbled upon the Henry III Fine Rolls as a source. This is a digitization and indexing of records from 13th-century England that include a lot of personal names. It contains references to a database they made that sorts these names by popularity and other factors, but the database apparently hasn't been maintained, because it's gone. For a while, I was just picking names from articles about that database, but I started to worry I was going to run out (due to my tendency to name any corpses of dead adventurers in the dungeon just in case someone likes to cast speak with dead). So I went to their index of names, which is great if you're looking for a specific person, but not useful if you just want a list of personal names, and decided to use their data to make a couple d100 tables for myself.

I went through the index and typed all the names into a spreadsheet. Then, to give the list a more medieval feel, I sorted them by how often they appeared in the Social Security Administration's data on baby names. (I know that's a bit US-centric, but to my knowledge there is no global database to use for this purpose.) Then I removed all the ones that appeared most often on the baby names list -- I figured if you were rolling on a table of medieval names, you'd be a bit disappointed if you got "John" or "Mary". (Incidentally, the following names appear both in the Fine Rolls and on the SSA's list of the top 10 (male and female, so 20 actually) baby names for 2021: Emma, Oliver, James, Ava, William, Isabella, and Henry.) I used the data going back to 1880 for thoroughness.

In the case of male names, this meant I was able to remove all the names that appeared in the SSA records. So the names in that table were (probably) not used at all in the U.S. between 1880 and 2021. (The SSA apparently doesn't keep records on names that appear less than five times in a given year, so it's possible there were a few of these guys around, but not many.) This is because, as you may expect from medieval records, there were more than twice as many male names in the records as female names, so there were more left over after cutting the ones that appeared in the SSA data. So twenty of the female names on the table were also used in the US since 1880, but not often.

I did not make any effort to sort names by etymology, so the list includes French, Welsh, Scandinavian, &c. names, not just names that have an English origin. Multicultural, for "pretty much just one quadrant of Europe" values of "multicultural". I don't think that should break anyone's immersion or anything; medieval people traveled around more than people tend to think.

Speaking of breaking immersion, I also cut the following names off of the list because I thought they might be distracting to your players if you randomly assigned them to an NPC -- or to your audience if you use this to name characters for a writing project. I'm not going to say there's something wrong with these names, just that they're the sort of thing you would want to only deploy on purpose:

From the male names:

Cok

Flourecoc

Hammecok

Marmaduke

Odo

Vivian

From the female names:

Cuntessa

Cuntus

Licorice

Also, to note, I've kept them separated into 100 male names and 100 female names because the source data was pretty firmly entrenched in the gender binary. Obviously you can do what you want with your characters' genders, though, and if you want to completely ignore the division, feel free to combine them into a single list and roll a d20+d10 for a d200 table.

Anyway, without further ado, the tables (or, well, lists numbered 1-100) are below the cut.

d100 Medieval Female Names

Acilia

Albrea

Alcis

Aleys

Alveva

Alvona

Amabilia

Amice

Amphelisa

Angaretta

Annora

Antigonia

Anura

Argia

Arniun

Ascelina

Aude

Avegaya

Avice

Barbata

Basilia

Belasez

Belina

Bertrada

Blitha

Bruncosta

Burgia

Celecestra

Claremunda

Clemencia

Comitessa

Constantina

Cundya

Custantia

Dervorguilla

Desiderata

Duva

Edelina

Egelina

Egidia

Emicina

Ermengard

Ermintrude

Escilia

Esterota

Eustachia

Fluoria

Frethesenta

Genta

Goda

Godelina

Godina

Goditha

Goldcorna

Goldina

Guinda

Gundreda

Gunilda

Gunnora

Hawise

Huwelina

Idonea

Imayne

Imenia

Isolda

Ivetta

Kamilia

Langusa

Laurencia

Lesianda

Letewaria

Liveva

Maciana

Mariota

Maszelina

Meisenta

Melcana

Nesta

Nichith

Olencia

Olenta

Oriolda

Osamunda

Pavia

Pelaga

Petronilla

Phillipa

Quenilda

Sanchia

Sapientia

Sarotha

Scolastica

Sigerida

Sinolda

Slima

Theophania

Wulveva

Wymarca

Ymanea

Yselia

d100 Medieval Male Names

Alard

Albric

Alfwyn

Algrym

Alnothus

Amauvin

Amfrid

Anessans

Arnewic

Arnulph

Ascelin

Asketillus

Astun

Avenel

Azus

Baldekin

Bonefey

Chernon

Costericus

Cradoc

Deodatus

Deulecresse

Deulobene

Eglinus

Ellemus

Elvered

Engelard

Engeram

Ernisius

Ernulf

Everwin

Ferrand

Fraricus

Fulk

Galerand

Gemmion

Gernegan

Godebrich

Godescallus

Gruffydd

Gundwin

Hagin

Halengrattus

Hasculph

Heinfrid

Heltonus

Herlewin

Hermer

Ilger

Imbert

Innorus

Isenbard

Joldwin

Jollan

Jukell

Jurninus

Ketelbert

Lefrich

Lefwin

Manasser

Mauger

Meredudd

Meuric

Mosse

Odard

Odinell

Orm

Ranulf

Ratiken

Reinfrid

Rochulf

Roscelin

Ruellus

Runcinus

Salekin

Samariellus

Savaric

Selvius

Serlo

Terricus

Thoreword

Tollanus

Turgot

Turkill

Ulf

Ulfketell

Urricus

Vivard

Waldethus

Walding

Waleran

Walkelin

Wandregisilius

Wicmannus

Wigan

Wischard

Wurmund

Wybert

Wymarc

Wynan

So yeah. There you go. For your TTRPG or writing project. Knock yourself out, let me know if you do anything cool with this.

#d100 #ttrpg #dnd #d&d #dungeons and dragons #pathfinder #names #male names #masculine names #female names #feminine names #medieval

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gentil-minou · 6 months

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Wei Ying living on the street and still celebrates his birthday because it's a month after mid autumn festival and Mama taught him how to count the days before she and Baba left…

But little A-Ying still celebrates! He makes sure to prepare every year!

(Now an expanded oneshot on Ao3 here)

This year, A-Ying prepares by keeping the mantou a kind shopkeeper gave him a week ago! He wraps it up in the cleanest cloth he can find and tucks it away in his super secret hiding place.

(It's an abandoned shed on the outskirts of the village that A-Ying sometimes shelters in)

(He can't keep the mantou in his robes otherwise the dogs will find him…the shed is safer. There are even holes in the roof to let the moonlight in!)

(He can never stay for too long, though. Baba said they would meet him at the inn so he has to go back so they can find him!)

A-Ying likes birthdays! He likes the singing and clapping and smiling, the laughter that bounces off the walls.

He likes the feeling of celebrating one person, showing them how special they are! He likes that everyone has a day that's just for them!!

A-Ying is very good at singing, so even though he's the only one singing and clapping it's still a fun day! His laughter isn't as loud as Mama's, and there's no one to smile with him, but that's okay! A-Ying likes celebrating anyway!

It's a day just for him!

This year on his birthday, A-Ying finds a nice big tree not to far from the shed, a little bit a ways from the market in the village. From this far away he can still hear the street vendors cry out to each, and he can pretend they're calling to him too.

He's gotten reaaaaally good at climbing this year, so he goes up and up and up all the way to the second branch. He perches on his throne, watching the subjects of his domain move from one spot to the next, unaware of the child giggling at their antics.

Every one of those blobs has a story, and A-Ying likes to imagine them in his head.

That mother with her daughter is shopping for a new treasure to add to their collection.

Those two men whispering together are plotting a dastardly escape from the bad guys!

The stern, intimidating cultivator in glowing white robes is preparing to save them all.

The two brothers are sneaking off on their own, seeking adventures beyond his wildest dreams.

A-Ying smiles to himself at his game. It's fun, and he likes it.

He balances the cloth bundle gingerly on his lap, leaning as securely as he can on the tree whole trying to hook a leg around the branch for safety. He unwraps the dusty grey cloth, revealing the white dough of his prized mantou.

It's not as fresh and soft as he remembered it, and the steam is all gone, but it's still his mantou!!! He doesn't even know what's in the filling, but he bets it will be delicious!

He prepares to take a bite when A-Ying hears a soft rustling of leaves and quiet sniffles.

He hooks an arm around the tree, mantou secure in his other, and peers around to see who's managed to find his hiding spot.

It's one of the brothers from earlier, the little one with hair only up to his shoulders. His face is scrunched up and angry looking, but his eyes are sad.

The boy looks around, seeming confused and…lost? The long sleeves of his pure white robes catch on sharp brambles and thickets, and he exhales sharply when they pull him back and trapped him.

The boy sends the bush a withering glare, and is about to pull his arm free.

"Wait!" A-Ying calls out before he can think otherwise. "Don't just pull!"

The boy startles and jerks back, though he keeps his arm perfectly still. Sharp eyes dart around looking for the source of the sound, before glancing up and locking onto A-Ying.

Gold. Molten like the sun above them. For a second the tree no longer feels solid beneath A-Ying.

He shakes the feeling away and tucks his mantou back into his robes, and jumps down to land in front of the boy.

His knees scream, not used to such a tall height.

He hides a wince but the boy is too taken aback to even notice in the first place, reeling away from A-Ying, looking terrified and furious.

It's so fun, A-Ying can't help the giggles from escaping as he exclaims, "Hi!"

The boy says nothing but he doesn't move, arm still caught.

"If you tug your arm out like that, you're going to rip your pretty robes!" A-Ying tells the boy, his eyes drawn to the shiny pale blue thread that winds through the white fabric in the shape of misty clouds. He almost reaches out to touch it, stopping himself at the last second.

He lifts one of his tattered sleeves, gesturing to one of its many tears. "Look, see? This is what happens when you pull too hard! It makes a hole and sometimes it cuts skin and hurts a lot."

Sure enough, the hole reveals a tiny angry red scar from when A-Ying ripped it.

The boy lets out a quiet hiss, and his expression changes to one of commiseration. He lifts his hand, letting the sleeve drop to show A-Ying a small cut on the back of his hand.

"Ouch!" A-Ying exclaims, even though the cut looks like it's been healed for a long time. "That looks bad too! Did you get hurt already? Where? Anywhere else?"

A-Ying doesn't have any soothing salve, but he can maybe wrap the white cloth around the boy’s injuries? Or maybe find a nice adult?

Luckily the boy shakes his head and speaks for the first time. "No. Ge's sword…"

The boy trails off, staring at the ground as he draws lines in the dirt. The tips of his ears bloom pink where they peek from between ebony strands of hair.

A-Ying blinks before catching on, the mirth filling him with warmth. He throws his head back in joyous laughter that grows at the boy's pretty pout.

He wipes the tears from his eyes as he asks, "You played with your brother's sword didn't you, without asking first."

The boy nods once brusquely, still stubbornly pouting at the ground. It makes A-Ying want to laugh again and he bounces with the feeling.

"Where is your brother? I saw you two earlier when I…" This time, A-Ying trails off his words catching in his throat. Heat floods his cheeks for some reason, and he suddenly feels too shy to let the boy know he'd been watching him earlier.

How odd.

The boy, however, doesn't seem to pay attention as his head darts up and devastation spreads across his face. "Ge…" he starts, his lower lip wobbling. "I can not find Ge."

His voice comes out a bit hoarse, like he's been crying. And now that A-Ying has a better angle, he can see the tears resting in the corner of the boy's eyes where he must have cried earlier.

The boy is lost…away from his family. Unsure of where they went and when he'll see them.

The thought sits heavy and hard im A-Ying's head, and his face goes blank.

But not for too long, as he lets the feeling pass over him like a wave the way Baba showed him when he was little. He takes a deep breath, and takes another step closer to the boy.

The boy gives him a wary look, but with his arm still caught there's no way for him to escape.

A-Ying gently takes his arm, keeping his movements light and easy to shake off. He gets a better look at where a branch as snagged on the boy's robes, a sharp pointy end of the stick caught on a loose thread. Then, A-Ying grabs the stick and slowly pulls it out, taking care not to loosen and more threads.

When the boy's robes are finally free, with only a few easy to fix loose threads, A-Ying hops back and presents the boy's arm with a flourish.

"There! All fixed! See, isn't that better than a nasty hole?"

The boy inspects the damage, a judicial eye moving up and down the length of his sleeve, clinical in its assessment. A-Ying has to bite his tongue to keep from laughing at the boy's serious expression.

Finally satisfied, the boy drops his arm and regards A-Ying with the same serious expression.

Again, the ground feels a little less solid beneath A-Ying's feet, like he's about to float away.

"Thank you," the boy says, gaze intense and making A-Ying twitch.

"It's not problem at all, no need for thanks! I'm happy to help! Now, let's find your brother."

He grabs the boys hand and begins to walk, when the boy pulls him back, as if still caught in the brambles. "You wish to help?" he asks, that same confused expression from earlier on his face.

"Of course! Everyone needs to find their family! It's a given!"

This time when he tugs on the boys hand, warm where his palm sildes against A-Ying's cool skin, the boy follows.

"Besides," A-Ying continues, focusing on the path ahead of them for anymore wayward branches, "When you help someone on your birthday, you get extra blessings!"

"It is your birthday?" the boy asks from wear he walks behind A-Ying.

"Yup! And my mama says we have to share our blessings with everyone on our birthday, so we can live well!"

"…Where is your mama?"

The boy's voice is quiet, like he almost regrets asking.

But that's not why A-Ying stops walking, frozen on the path.

He's tried very hard not to think about it too much this past year…but where is his mama?

Usually when he feels a gloomy cloud anchor itself to him, A-Ying ignores it and finds something fun or interesting to do. And right now, the fun and interesting thing is the pretty boy at his side with ears that turn pink and a huffy, pouty mouth.

So A-Ying focuses on that. He's very good at changing the subject.

The village market isn't too far away, but A-Ying fills the time with boisterous chatter, asking the boy about his pretty forehead ribbon and showing him the red ribbon Mama gave him ears ago, tied securely to his wrist.

He asks the boy a lot of things, but he doesn't seem like to like talking all that much.

But! He's a wonderful listener! He makes all these cute head movements and his eyes give away his feelings even when he tries so hard to keep them off the rest of his face. He nods at the right times and doesn't become bored ever!

It's been a long time since A-Ying had someone so fun to talk to, and he gets distracted telling the boy a scary story about once when he hid in a tree away from fierce and angry dogs.

In what must be uncharacteristic for the boy, he tugs on A-Ying's hand and interrupts him.

"Your birthday," he says, in that soft voice of his. A-Ying likes it a lot. "How are you celebrating it?"

A-Ying tilts his head, confused. He'd thought the answer was obvious.

"Like this, of course!" He waves their joined hands then let's them swing back and forth.

The boy frowns, deep lines forming between his brows where all his secrets must hide.

A-Ying presses the tip of his finger against those line, smoothing them out.

"No frowning on my birthday!!! It's not allowed! Only smiles!"

The boy's face turns neutral again, but the intensity in his gaze remains.

A-Ying puts on an affected pout and bends a little bit so he can peer up at the boy, though he's a bit shorter than A-Ying "Come on… give me a smile. Please? As my gift?"

All traces of a frown vanish completely and the boy wears a resolute look while his ears turn pink.

His face scrunches in concentration and slowly changes

He lifts one corner of his mouth higher than the other, a lopsided forced smile that shows a little bit of teeth. It's stiff and doesn't quite reach his eyes, but it's the cutest smile A-Ying's ever seen!

He bursts into laughter that rings around in a song, squeezing the boys hand for stability even as he almost falls over.

He can't remember the last time he was so happy.

"That's the best gift I've ever gotten! A perfect birthday smile!"

The edges of the boy's smile softens even more beautifully..

Drums beat against A-Ying's ribcage and he lifts his free hand to rest against his chest, willing the heat to dissipate from his cheeks.

He's on a mission after all, and with this gift to spurn him on he continues searching around the crowded market in search of white robes.

A-Ying hears a rumbling sound behind him. It's so similar to a dog's growl his shoulders stiffen automatically as he tenses and whimpers.

The rumbling continues and he squeezes the boy's hand preparing to run away, when the boy speaks softly to him.

"…Sorry…I did not eat.."

The fear exits A-Ying's body in a long deep exhale and he turns around to see the boy's cheeks have pinked as his hands clutch his stomach, where the grumbling sound continues.

He gives the boy a friendly smile and drags him to an alleyway just off the side street.

There, A-Ying removes his prize mantou and presents it the way a street performer might, holding his prize high in the sky.

"Ta-da! My birthday mantou! We can share!"

The mantou is difficult to split in half when it's this stale, but he manages and holds half out to the boy.

The boy hesitates before he takes the mantou, glancing between it and A-Ying as if looking for some reassurance.

A-Ying nods eagerly, gesturing for him to take a bite and lifts his half up to his lips in preparation.

The boy bites down. He stops. He chews. He stops.

His face takes on an entirely new expression that A-Ying finds utterly fascinating. He looks like he's both grateful and also wants to cry.

Strange. Maybe A-Ying's birthday mantou is extra delicious!

A-Ying takes a bite.

Immediately, he spits the morsel out onto the dusty path, trying to get rid of what must have been rotting filling encased in a dough that was too stale and hard enough to break teeth.

He looks up at the boy in horror. "No! Quick, spit it out! Spit it out before you get sick!"

Though alarmed, the boy follows, somehow showing it's possible to daintily spit into the palm in his hand and tossing the remains away.

A-Ying grimaces at the taste still lingering in his mouth. He's eaten a lot of questionable things in the past year, but he's used to it.

He'll wash his mouth out in the stream and then hope he'll find something to wash out the taste.

But he feels horrible that the boy had to eat that...He doesn't seem like the type to ever eat something so gross.

"Sorry," he whispers. He tugs on messy strands of his hair, wishing they could hide him from view.

The boy gives him a searching look, golden eyes wide.

"…No need for sorry," he replies simply. His face shifts into one of determination and this time the boy is the one to take A-Ying's hand and guide him through the market streets.

The boy stops in front of one of the bigger food stalls. The ones that sell skewered meat along with mantou and pancakes and all sorts of yummy treats. A-Ying knows this stall well because it's always very busy and sometimes people will order too much and toss their food out.

Keeping a firm hold of A-Ying's with one hand, the boy uses his other to reach into his pocket and pull out a cloth purse. The money inside clinks together and A-Ying can't help but be stunned. It's the most money A-Ying has ever seen!

He watches the boys fist close tight around his hands and follows as the boy marches towards the stall with stiff upright shoulders. He stands before the market stall, it's kind elderly proprietress smiling gently at him.

And he freezes.

A-Ying blinks and waits, wondering if the boy made a mistake perhaps.

He squeezes his hand, hoping to reassure him.

It does the trick, rousing the boy from his shock as he points at various items, gathering an assortment of meat, fresh mantou, and even sugary youtiao!

The stall's owner gives him a bemused look as she hands over everything as the boy pays for it. It's a lot, more than the boy is able to carry as he tries to pay at the same time.

A-Ying didn't think he seemed like that big of an eater, but maybe he was wrong!

The smell of warm, fresh food right in front of him makes his mouth water, and he smacks his lips together.

Finished with paying, the boy turns away with his haul. He looks behind him, as if to make sure A-Ying is following.

A-Ying runs after him, happy to follow him anywhere.

They stop at a bench a little ways away from the main thoroughfare where it's less crowded and market fades into background noise.

The boy pulls a clean white cloth from his sleeves and places it on the bench between him and A-Ying, then arranges the food with care.

One of A-Ying's legs bounces up and down uncontrollably, but he waits as patiently as he can manage.

At last, the boy nods, satisfied, and sends A-Ying a pointed look.

A-Ying blinks and points at himself. "Wait. Me first?" he asks.

The boy nods and hands a steaming mantou filled with savory meat filling whose smell nearly forms a cloud around them.

"It's your birthday," the boy says, like it should be obvious that this stranger bought A-Ying food without any thought. "This is for you."

A-Ying gasps, all the air in his lungs leaving him as he surveys the spread around him. Blood rushes to his cheeks, and he lifts his cold hands to press against them.

"This is all…for me?"

"Mn. Happy Birthday."

A-Ying beams his biggest, brightest toothy grin, watching the boy blink back at him as his ear turn that adorable pink again.

He happily takes the proffered mantou and bites down, savoring the burst of warmth and flavor that skitters across his tongue. He moans, and eats with zealous.

He hasn't had anything like this in so long! It's even better than he imagined!

Once he finishes the mantou, he takes a skewer of meat in one hand and a small pancake in the other and eats them in turn, alternating between bites. His body wiggles back and forth in a happy dance.

He's halfway through his second skewer when he notices the boy hasn't taken a bite of anything at all, even though he was the one who was hungry in the first place.

A cry of dismay escapes his throat. He hands the boy a bun filled with sweet red bean paste, waiting for the boy to start eating before resuming himself. Once the boy has taken a few small bites, A-Ying smiles once more and move on to the youtiao.

He tries to tell the boy about the time he found an entire bin filled with leftover dough and how he'd tried to eat it, but the boy gives him a reprimanding look.

"No talking while eat."

"Pfft, that's no fun. And besides, it's my birthday! Surely there are special rules for birthdays!"

The boy's expression turns skeptical, but A-Ying takes it to mean he's right after all and carries on.

By the time they've finished his birthday feast, the sun is begin its descent beneath the horizon, pinks and oranges mingling with blue skies above. The blue reminds A-Ying of the boy's robes, and he wonders if it always will. If even years later, he'll look up and think of him.

He hopes it will.

For now, he plops down from the bench, dusting his hands clean of crumbs as the boy carefully folds the cloth napkin and tucks it into his sleeves. A-Ying spares a moment to wonder what else he hides in those sleeves, before he gets back to the task at hand.

He needs to get this boy back to his family.

Surprisingly, no one has been shouting or racing around looking for him. A-Ying had assumed sticking by the market would be their best, but now he's feeling less so.

Sure enough, when he asks the boy, he tells him actually his family had been all the way on the other side of the town, far away from the market!

"Why didn't you say that earlier!?" A-Ying exclaims, already tugging the boy away.

The boy doesn't answer, his ears pink as he watches the ground. But the corner of his lips quirk up in a sly smile.

He hears that drumming noise against his chest again at the sight, and he almost feels dizzy with it. He ignores the feeling, and together the race across town before darkness falls.

Almost as soon as they turn the corner, A-Ying spots them. The mean looking cultivator from earlier, and next to him the white robed brother A-Ying had seen earlier.

The older brother looks close to tears, while the cultivator paces back and forth pulling on his beard like he's about to rip it out.

But it's all okay, because A-Ying did it. He helped find the boy's home.

He whirls around, hoping to see the relief on the boy's face, but instead the boy is watching A-Ying, something sad and even more lost pooling in that serious stare of his.

"Look, see," A-Ying says, though his tone isn't as cheery as he'd hoped. "We found them."

The boy nods, but he doesn't look at his family at all. His eyes are fixed on A-Ying.

Of all the things he could say, A-Ying doesn't expect the boy to ask him, "...Did you have a good birthday?"

A-Ying grins, warm and bright and cheeks straining to keep all the joy inside.

"Yes! It was the best birthday ever!" He pulls the boy into a hug, uncaring of his dirty robes now that he has such a wonderful friend! "Now go, your family is probably worried sick!"

The boy slowly withdraws with one hand still holding A-Ying's tattered sleeve.

"You too. Birthdays should be spent with family," the boy intones.

A-Ying doesn't answer, but he gives the boy a small, reassuring smile and sends him off. The boy walks briskly to his family at first, then breaks out into a run when his brother notices him.

He watches the tearful, happy reunion for a bit, a feeling full from more than just a filling meal. It settles happily in his chest, warm and content.

Then he turns around and heads back to his shed. By the time the boy looks back, searching for him, A-Ying is long gone.

Halfway back, as A-Ying pats his tummy and watches the lights in the houses turn on one by one giving the town a lovely glow, he realizes he never got the boy's name.

It's okay, he thinks. He has a strange feeling one day he will get to spend another birthday with the boy.

fin.

(link to threadfic here)

#happy birthday to the bestest boy #me: just something short and sweet for a-xian's bday #also me: writes 4k instead #how does this keep happening #i might just post this on ao3 as it is #it's still oct 31st where i live soooooo #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #the untamed #wangxian #wei wuxian #wei ying #lan wangji #bushy writing #mdzs musings #xiantober

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gachawolfiebloom · 27 days

Text

A Grumpy Troll and A Prince

Chapter 1: Lives of Misery and Joy

Tags: Comedy, action, adventure, and romance

Once upon a time...

In a happy forest, in the happiest tree lived the happiest creatures ever known...

The trolls!

These cute and tiny creatures loved nothing more than to sing, dance, and hug, dance, and hug, and sing, and dance, and sing, and hug, and dance-

Well you get the idea -_-

But then one day the trolls were discovered by a bergen!

The bergens didn't know how to sing, dance, or hug. They were the most miserable creatures in all the land. Once they saw how happy the trolls were, they wanted some of that happiness for themselves.

Eating a troll made them feel so happy that they started a tradition...

Once a year, every year, the bergens would gather around the troll tree to taste true happiness.

On a holiday called...TROLLSTICE!!!

—

The king of the bergens was fast asleep until the door slammed open. His son, prince X was already up and had come to wake his father up.

"Good morning dad!"

It was very early in the morning so it was going to be quite hard to get him up at this hour. "Dad wake up!" He was quite pestering, but since he was just a kid it was perfectly understandable why X had so much energy.

He began jumping over the bed as he just kept shouting "Dad! Dad! Dad!" If this exhaustion continued then they might miss this special day. With not a second to lose, the prince grabbed the king's chest hairs and ripped them clean off at full force.

"AHHHHHH!!!!" The king's eyes shot open and he yelled "X! What time is it?" The young prince squealed as he replied "It's trollstice!"

The castle doors flew open as the king yelled out to all of his kingdom "Trollstice! Our one day to be happy!" All of the bergens didn't spare a second as they all hurried to the troll tree that was in the middle of town. They all chanted "We want trolls! We want trolls! We want trolls!"

As they all gathered around the troll tree, a familiar voice addressed the crowd.

"Please give it up for your keeper of the trolls. Your master of happiness. Your royal entertainer..."

The figure that the voice belonged to turned around to find that it was...

"Me."

It was none other than the TV Adware, Mr Puzzles himself. All the bergens cheered, which pleased him very much. He did love a good show after all. "This is a very special trollstice as one of us has never tasted a troll before." The young prince in the crowd gasped. "He's talking about me!" Mr Puzzles stuck a hand out to X .

"Prince X, your time has come." The king gave a warm smile to his son as he reassured him that he had been quite the nervous one when he had his first troll. The prince nodded and took his royal entertainer's hand.

"I present you to the ways of true happiness."

He opened the gate to the tree and pointed to a flower that was sitting on a branch. "I have chosen a extra special troll for you." He took the supposed "troll" and bent down to the little bergen.

"The happiest, most positive, sweetest troll of all...and because every prince deserves royalty, I give you the one they call prince Smg4!"

In pure excitement, X snatched the troll out of Mr Puzzle's hands and whispered "Please make me happy Smg4." He stuck him in his mouth and began chewing. The ominous TV man watched with a smug and curious grin.

"What are you feeling?"

Suddenly, the prince spit out the troll in disgust. "That's rotten!" It actually wasn't a troll at all. Mr Puzzles examined it to find it was only a wooden replica of the actual prince. "It's...fake!?"

"FAKE!?"

Mr Puzzles turned towards the tree in shock and kicked it, causing thousands of copies to rain down, teasing the entertainer for being tricked like that. X started to get worried as his breath quickened. "They're gone!?" The king's anger started to rise as he sternly asked "Where are they..."

Mr Puzzles stuck his hands out defensively and said "Don't worry. I'll find them!" The prince could hear some kind of disturbance in the ground as he placed his head down closer to the ground. It sounded like...the pitter patter of little feet?

Underneath the tunnels, all the trolls were hurrying to escape this hellhole of a kingdom. "Here comes Smg4!" The trolls passed along the little prince up to his father. He had just been born and it was very crucial that the poor little troll was protected at all costs. The king of the trolls breathed a sigh of relief when his son was safe in his arms. "There's my little prince."

One of the trolls informed him that some of the others couldn't keep up. The king had sworn to make sure that none of the trolls were left behind and he was intended to keep that promise. He scooped up any troll that couldn't make it and generously used his clothes to cover mud puddles.

It started to become increasingly harder to catch up as the tunnels were broken into by shovels and pickaxes. What could be going on up there? That question was answered as all the bergens were ferociously digging away on the surface while the king yelled out "DON'T JUST STAND THERE! MAKE MY SON HAPPY!"

Mr Puzzles grabbed a pickaxe and yelled back "HE WILL BE HAPPY!" as he threw it into the ground. As the tunnels were collapsing, that very tool used to slash the ground had caught the king and he was stuck. A shovel was about to block the path so in a flash of heroism, he threw the injured trolls he was carrying to safety.

Luckily they all had made it to the end with the others, but one thing was missing. Where was the king?

"I don't think the king made it..."

They all gasped as it was fair to assume that their heroic and brave leader was dead. He had sacrificed himself for his kingdom. Just when it seemed like all hope was lost, a voice echoed through the tunnel.

"When I said no troll left behind, I meant it!"

The king was okay and...*ahem* uh lacking some body coverage.

One of the trolls realized someone was missing as he piped up "Wait! Where is prince Smg4?" The king gave a reassuring look and said "Don't worry. He's safe." He pulled the prince out from his hair as the cute baby chanted "No troll left behind!"

"Awwww." That was the most adorable thing they had seen all day. The king got back to the matter at hand as he ushered all his subjects away from this terrible place. "But we'll be a lot safer the further we get from bergen town." The trolls had all successfully escaped and were off to find a new place to call home.

Meanwhile at bergen town, the bergens had formed an angry mob and took away Mr Puzzles. "That's right! Take him away! Get him out of my sight!" No matter how much this adware struggled to escape, he could not break free from the angry grasps of the citizens.

"YOU ARE HERBY BANISHED FROM BERGEN TOWN FOREVER!!!"

When the overcome could not be achieved by physical force, Mr Puzzles tried to convince them to give him a second chance. "We can all be happy again! I'll find the trolls!"

They tossed him into the dirt and closed off the passage into the kingdom. Getting up and wiping mud off his face, Mr Puzzles was very irritated on losing his status and reputation. He had a broken antenna and a glitching screen while replying with a cold expression "And I'll shove them down your ungrateful throats..."

Poor X watched the chaos outside as he went up to his dad to ask him a question. "Dad...I never got to eat a troll. What's going to make me happy now?" The king's servant, FM, who was just as old as the young prince, watched the conversation while cleaning the floor.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You will never be happy."

X sulked and wallowed with one final reply. "Never?" His father nodded and the realization sunk in that he would be miserable for the rest of his life. FM couldn't help but feel sorry for the prince as there was a strong feeling that just wanted to make him comfort that young bergen. With nothing but cleaning duties to do, FM sighed and got back to work.

After days of searching, the trolls finally found what they were looking for. A beautiful forest that was filled with luscious resources. The king looked at the sight and announced to his citizens "Here! This is where we will rebuild our civilization! It has everything we need. Fresh air, clean water, and...SWEET ACOUSTICS!" The prince took out his cowbell and began banging it as a catchy rhythm began to play.

~20 years later~

The prince had just finished reading this very story to some troll children. "Twenty years ago today, the king made us safe and now every troll is free to live in perfect harmonyyyyy..." The kids joined in on the sweet sounding key. "That's why we hug every hour!" One of the kids cheered. "Yup!"

"I wish it was every half hour." One of the other kids replied. "So do I, but that wouldn't leave much time for singing and dancing would it?" Suddenly, a question of curiosity entered this innocent child's mind as they shyly raised their hand. "Prince Smg4? Do the bergens still want to eat us?"

"You bet!" They all gasped. Dang. Very subtle to drop that statement on a bunch of young children after reading that terrifying story...

"But just because it's the only way they'll ever be happy."

"Isn't there anything else that will make them happy?"

The young trolls tried to think of solutions that could solve this problem. If it still hadn't been resolved for 20 years then it seemed very unlikely to easily clear that up.

"What about having birthday parties?"

"Or slumber parties!"

"Or staring at your parents while they sleep."

"..."

"I don't want to be food!" Four came over and comforted the frightened little troll. "Don't worry. No troll ever will be." Now back to the more positive side of things as there was a special event going on tonight. "That's why we're celebrating with the biggest party ever! Everybody is going to be there!"

One of the trolls piped with interest about a certain someone. "Everybody...?" The prince was quite confident that "everybody" would be there and he was going to make sure of it. He took out the cowbell that he had ever since he was a baby and began banging it with excitement. The leaves of the plant that they were in, opened up as Four did what he did best.

"Everybody, move your hair and fell united! Ohhh!"

He danced down the staircase and began sliding down a stem as he used his hair to flip himself into the air.

"Everybody, shake your hair and feel united! Ohhhh!"

He began making dramatic poses that models do as the music pumped him up.

"Yeah!"

Four started to hand out invitations from a basket he was carrying for the big party.

"Everybody's coming to the celebration. Imma hook you up with your invitation. Let your hair swing and party with me. No bad vibes just love, you'll see."

He and Bob began to pull out some wicked dj skills on top of some kind of bug-like creature.

"Do the D-A-N-C-E. One-two-three-four fight! Stick to the B-E-A-T. Get ready to ignite!"

The bug creature exploded into hundreds of butterflies as Four and his friends all danced together with all the trolls and all the other creatures that seemed to live with them in the forest.

"You are such a P-Y-T. Catching all the lights. Just easy as A-B-C. That's how you make it right!"

Meggy pulled out a sick beatbox trap as she danced some fancy footwork.

"It ain't hard out here when you're doing it right. Put a smile on blast. That's the troll life!"

"And I'm here to help you through it! Come on Boopkins, I know you can do it!"

Boopkins was trying to lift a huge dumbbell as Four's confidence made him shoot it high into the sky. Using this as an opportunity, Four took the basket of invitations and dumped it down for all the trolls to collect one. Mario wanted to take a picture of his pet, Mario Junior with the invitation. He framed the picture on the wall and tapped his chin in thought.

"Still needs something..."

Luigi got an idea as he took some glitter and threw it on the picture. Mario stood in silence until he turned back to his brother and stared intensely at him.

"That's gay!"

Four and all of his friends, Mario, Meggy, Luigi, Bob, Boopkins, Tari, and Melony were singing and dancing on a leaf that was sliding down the same stem from earlier.

"Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop the beat! I can't stop, can't stop, can't stop the beat! I won't stop, won't stop, won't stop the beat! Go!"

The trolls all began to hold hands as they danced and sang around the forest.

"Everybody, shake your hair and feel united! Ohhhh!"

Turns out troll hair could do a lot more than we knew because the trolls had made their hair blue and wavy to resemble and ocean while using leaves to make the boat while poor Boopkins was stuck as the sail.

"Sunshine day! Everybody's singing! Sunshine day! Everybody move your hair and feel united! Ohhh!"

The trolls began stacking themselves on top of each other with displays of rainbows, hearts, flowers, and of course...glitter.

"Yeah!"

They all breathed heavily as that performance was quite a mouthful. However, not everyone thought it was terrific...

Case in point, one troll was slowly clapping with an disapproving expression on his face. It was Smg3, the grumpiest troll in all of the village. He had quite the faded tone of skin and hair, a prickly beard, and of course, the sourest expression out of all the trolls. Unlike the others, the thought of singing and dancing made him disgusted and he hated all the trolls...especially the prince.

"Unbelievable guys. Really, really great. Good job. I COULD HEAR YOU FROM A MILE AWAY!"

"Good. I was worried we weren't projecting enough."

"Four. If I can hear you...so can the bergens."

The others all rolled their eyes and groaned in annoyance. Three was always complaining about the bergens and how they were going to come back to eat them all. It really made you wonder why he was the only one who was so concerned about this.

"Oh boy."

"Here we go again...🙄"

"Oh Three..."

"You always ruin everything."

"Warning us about the bergens."

Three looked confused. He didn't do it that much. Did he? Turns out he had ruined a birthday party, wedding, and even a funeral with that stupid bergen talk of his.

"Oh come on. We haven't seen a bergen in 20 years. They're not going to find us."

"No. They aren't going to find ME! Because I'll be in my highly camouflaged, heavily fortified, bergen-proof survival lair."

"You mean you aren't coming to the party tonight?"

The others tried to hype up and encourage him to come.

"But it's going to be the biggest..."

"LOUDEST..."

"The craziest party ever!"

Three couldn't believe these idiots. He never showed up to these things for the fear of what risks he was taking if he did.

"Big? Loud!? Crazy!? YOU'RE JUST GOING TO LEAD THE BERGENS RIGHT TO US!"

Mario was getting sick of this guy's attitude as he leaned over to Four and whispered "Are you sure you want to invite this party pooper to poop all over your party?" Four responded with a much more positive tone, despite these two being total opposites of each other.

"Yes! I think everyone deserves to be happy!"

"I don't do happy."

"Three, I know there is happiness inside you. You just need our help to find it."

He pulled out a creative looking invitation that had a little Three, holding a heart that said "Three you're invited!" The mini version of him sang "Celebrate freedom from the bergens!" Three didn't look impressed. That annoyed expression stayed stuck on his face, even when the card spit out glitter all over his face. Four on the other hand, looked at him with a willing face in hopes he would say yes.

"What do you say?"

Three's expression relaxed as he took the card, but then he threw it on the ground and stomped on it as hard as he could.

"Oh my god." Boopkins replied in shock. Nobody expected that, even though Three always acted like a jerk to them. He wiped the glitter off his face while making it perfectly clear to them (for the millionth time) that he would never attend one of these stupid parties.

"I wouldn't be caught dead at your party, but you will be. Caught and dead."

Suddenly, another troll came down from the sky with a more relaxed tone.

"Whoa whoa. Let's calm down here Three."

Tag6 hopped off a firefly that was carrying her, and embraced the sweet bug. "Thank you for my safe passage here. Goodbye." She waved farewell as the firefly flew off. Now let's clear things up shall we. She turned back to Three and said "Okay, first of all, thanks for sharing your unique perspective of things...again."

Mario and Meggy snickered a little as they exchanged glances with each other.

"But just for now, why don't you try a little positivity okay?"

Three sneered at the sweet, polite troll. He always had a grievance with her as she always seemed way too friendly with the other trolls. Not only that, but Four kind of seemed to like her and that only deepened There's hatred. He always tried to tell himself "Why should I care. It's not like I'm jealous or anything." Despite that, something bugged him about seeing those two get closer together.

"Okay fine. I'm positive that you all are going to get eaten."

A glint sound of chimes began to ring as it turned out that their hug time bracelets were going off. "Hug time!" They all squeezed together to include everyone, including Three. He tried to squirm his way out when Luigi wrapped his arms around him. That was the last straw. He pushed out and said to Four "Someday, when the bergens find us and the survival of every troll is in your hands, I sure hope the answer is singing, dancing, and hugging because that's all you know how to do!"

Mario tried to stand up for his friend as he shot back "That's not true! Smg4 can also make memes!"

Three looked angrily into Four's eyes and said one last thing that really hurt his feelings.

"I can't believe you're going to be king one day."

He then walked off with a bunch of sticks that he had collected for his evil villain lair of protection. Four sighed glumly as Tag6 went over to comfort him.

"Don't listen to him. He's just mean and toxic. Some of us just don't want to be happy."

"...I guess."

"You guessed right. Boop."

Tag6 booped his nose as Four smiled and they all went off to get ready for the party. Little did they know, a fearsome foe would soon make his arrival.

Chapter 2: Coming Soon

#comedy #adventure #action #romance #smg4 #smg3 #smg34 #smg4 au #smg34 fanfiction #trolls #trolls au #trolls movie #trolls bergens #smg4 trolls #trolls branch #trolls poppy

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sleepingdayaway · 8 months

Text

And you never knew, how much I really liked you.

To my Legend lovers. And to my friends on discord, I did the thing :)

Characters: Legend, Reader, mentions of Ravio, Time, Wind, Sky, Warriors, Twilight, Wild, Four, Hyrule and Marin.

Warnings: Idk Legend crying at the end bc why not??

Legend knew that treating you like this won't really solve anything. The snappy remarks, piercing glares, and the absolute harsh accusations that spill from his mouth.

The arguments with the rest of the chain about how they trusted your words way too easily for his liking. Come on now! They're heros who's been doing this for awhile, they should understand about enemies disguising themselves to attack until they're vulnerable!

Yet deep down, he too fully trusted your words as well.

Underneath all his actions?

He remembers.

Legend doesn't really know why he was the only one that remembered you straight away. Perhaps it's because of how many adventures he's been on, and the way that you willingly stuck by his side through out all of it.

He remembers your soothing voice of comfort after his journey on Wind Fish Island. The way you comforted him and reassured him on what happened, but that feeling didn't last.

You disappeared.

You left him.

And again when the world called for him only then did you return. Once more did you guide him through his adventure, but you weren't just a companion. No, you were someone he cherished deeply. You were his friend, the only person that knew of his troubles and you knew him like the back of your hand.

Those nights of hushed whispers when Legend had time for solitude. Those nights of you guiding him through his injuries, and those touches of warmth that he felt after patching himself. You called them 'feel better kisses.'

Legend remembers the time you welcome Ravio with open arms. He didn't miss the way how Ravio would speak so softly towards him, whenever he asked about you or asked if you wanted any item in particular. In return, Legend would voice out your response.

He recalls the time you encouraged him to jump into the lake for him to cool off, after he lost his temper at a merchant. The way your giggles echoed in his ears, a bit muffled, since he refused to appear in the surface since he felt his face burn a bit.

The way you spoke adamantly about wanting stay and listen to Marin whenever she sang the ballad. It was honestly both of your favorite tune.

Until one day did you finally left him for good. The night before your disappearance you were even more affectionate than ever. Hogging his attention and all around his body was this warm feeling as if someone placed a blanket over him. Legend felt giddy since you've never acted this way before. He relished in your affection as he returned home to lay in bed.

As he prepared for bed, it was the only time he was able to relax. To feel like he didnt need to worry about his next adventure nor worry what who or whag to save next. Legend heard that familiar ballad again, but this time it wasn't Marin's voice, it was yours.

Legend, surpisingly allowed himself to be vulnerable tonight as he laid in bed. He mourned the people of Koholint Island, and his heart ached for a certain purple merchant that can no longer visits.

Underneath the covers did he enjoy the soft singing of your voice. Eventually, he bid you a good night, and he could've sworn you whispered a 'Sweet dreams.'

"I'm sorry-"

Now here you are standing in front of him physically. And sweet Hylia were you even more magnificent than he could imagine. Finally being able to see your expression, the way you stood, and being able to put a face to your voice. Legend greedily took in all the details of who you were until he realized what you did.

You gave him false hope of being together, and being at his side. Now you pretend that the past years of wondering and solving dangerous dungeons together didn't exist?

That his hardships were nothing but entertainment for you? Was Zelda nothing to you? Was Ravio's affection to you also nothing?

Legend hates you.

He hates you and your stupid [color] hair.

He hates the way your voice reach his ears whenever you spoke with the Champion.

He hates your laugh whenever he catches you with the sailor.

He hates the way you unashamedly gave your affection too the Traveler.

He hates how you and the Old Man can speak so softly to each other during those quiet moments.

He hates the way you flirt back to the Captain whenever you wanted to tease back.

He hates the look on your face whenever the Smith shows you his variety of artifacts and tools he's created.

He hates the way you rest with the Knight. The look of ease and the full trust of being in each other's company.

But he especially hates the way you sing with the Rancher. Familiar melodies that you sang before with him.

Yet Legend still loves you. He loves you so much that he would give up everything he has just to be with you.

Legend has traveled between worlds, and he would do so again just to have you once more.Except he felt that sickening feeling of envy. He wanted you to hurt the way he did after all those years.

Although the nagging thoughts that appear, saying that it won't fix anything that has happened. He's just too stubborn to acknowledge the longing that's still there.

And now as he stands in his home. His cluttered home with artifacts that he has collected during his time adventuring.

None of them held any value to him except for you.

His adventure is over, and so is yours.

They took you home.

Legend, finally alone, collapses onto the ground. Gripping his hair as hot tears fall down his face, the world around him gone as he loses himself in thoughts.

Because I never even told you, Oh, and I meant to

#linked universe imagine #linked universe x reader #link x reader #linked universe legend #legend x reader #I think I made ravio also included?? Idk Legend has feelings for reader AND Ravio #My fic my rules

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persesphonestears · 1 year

Text

More cod incorrect quotes

A/N: There is an obvious pattern cause I used a generator lmao anyway

C/W: uh swearing? i think thats it for once

Ghost: Favourite horror movie?

Soap: It

Price: Saw

Gaz: Annabelle

R/n: High School Musical. after watching it I spent all my middle school years terrified that the entire school would start singing something and I’d be the only one who didn’t know the lyrics

Price: You're a loose cannon, Ghost.

Ghost: No, I'm not. I'm a cannon maybe, but a loose cannon? Is that what you think of me?

Soap: I think you play by your own rules.

Gaz: No way, they think rules were made to be broken.

Price: Those are all attributes of a loose cannon.

Ghost: No, I'm just a reckless renegade. R/n is a loose cannon.

R/n: *smashes a chair*

Price: Good morning.

Ghost: Good morning.

Soap: Good morning.

Gaz: You all sound like robots, try spicing it up a bit.

R/n: MORNING MOTHERFUCKERS

Price: Where's Ghost, Soap, and Gaz?

R/n: They're playing hide and seek.

Price: Where?

R/n: I don't think you get how this game works.

Price: You really put aside everything and came all this way for me? How did you even get here so fast?

Ghost: Several traffic violations.

Soap: Three counts of resisting arrest.

Gaz: Roughly thirteen cans of energy drinks.

R/n: Also, that’s not our car.

Price: Nothing in life is free.

Ghost: Love is free!

Soap: Adventure is free.

Gaz: Knowledge is free.

R/n: Everything is free if you take it without paying.

R/n: We need more help. Maybe I should call my friends.

Ghost: ... Your what?

R/n: My friends.

Price: Are they saying “friends”?

Gaz: I think they're being sarcastic.

Soap: No, no, no, this is delirium, they've cracked from being awake all night. Hey, R/n! All of your friends are in this room.

R/n: I have other friends! You asked me to make new friends, I made new friends! It was a task. I complete tasks.

Price: Good responses for being stabbed with a knife?

Gaz: Rude.

Soap: That’s fair.

Ghost: Not again.

R/n: Are you going to want this back? Or can I keep it?

R/n: Is having a penis fun?

Ghost: It has its ups and downs.

Soap: Sometimes it’s a little hard.

Gaz: It’s a pain in the ass.

R/n: Oh, Jesus, fuck, guys, come on.

Gaz: That's it, we're gonna go out and find what we need!

Price: To the city?

Gaz: Yeah, no matter what!

R/n: Well- How exactly do you propose we do that, exactly?

Gaz: I... I don't know!

Ghost: Oh come off it, be serious!

Gaz: I am serious!

Ghost: You're insane!

Soap: Why, if only we were all wiener dogs, our problems would be solved!

Everyone:

Price: What???

Soap: Or maybe it was a basset hound!

R/n: no no maybe Soap is onto something..

Ghost, panicked: YOU'RE ALL INSANE!

Price: We’ve been conducting an ongoing study to see what R/n will and will not eat.

Ghost: Grass? Yes!

Price: Moss? Yes!!

Ghost: Leaves? Ohh, yes!

Price: Shoelaces? Strange but true!

Ghost: Worms? Sometimes!

Price: Rocks? Usually not.

Ghost: Twigs? Usually!

Price: Soap's cooking? Inconclusive!

Gaz: How did you… test this?

Price: You just hand them stuff and say ‘eat this’ and if they eat it, they eat it.

Gaz: ... I don’t know how to feel about this.

Soap: IS THAT WHERE ALL MY SPARE SHOELACES WENT?

Price: Are we really going to let R/n keep the cat?

Gaz: Hey we kept R/n.

Price: Why isn’t the statue smirking at me?

Ghost: It isn’t smirking at anyone, they’re all just imagining it.

Price: Three of us saw it, Ghost. How do you explain that?

Ghost: *points at Soap* Sleep deprivation. *points at Gaz* Paranoia. *points at R/n* Delusional personality disorder.

Price, trying to convince R/n to join the task force: You know... I thought it'd be good to have someone alongside us who's really... smart!

Gaz: And loud!

Soap: And grumpy!

Ghost: And oblivious to reality

R/n:

Price: Bridge the generation gap by combining old and new slang into one!

Gaz: Tubular AF!

Soap: Mood to the max!

Ghost, annoyed: Groovy, I hate it.

R/n, just as annoyed: If she breathes, she’s a square.

Price: Tf

Price: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the items you have lost throughout your life

Ghost: Self-esteem, haven't seen you in years

Soap: Oh wow, my innocence! Thank you for finding this!

Gaz: I knew I lost that potential somewhere!

R/n: My entire childhood and happiness, is that you?

Price:

Price: I was just gonna show you this cool trunk my mother left me but do you guys need a hug?

Price: What does 'take out' mean?

Soap: Food

Gaz: Dating

Ghost: Murder.

R/n: IT CAN MEAN ALL THREE IF YOU'RE NOT A LIL BITCH.

Price: Anyone d-

Ghost: Depressed?

Gaz: Drained?

Soap: Dumb?

R/n: Done with life?

Price: -done with their work... need to get Laswell to get you all therapy …

Price: So uhhh... question: my ‘friend’ keeps on going into the pantry and grabbing handfuls of fettuccine... uncooked...

Gaz: I would hope they're not grabbing handfuls of cooked fettuccine!

Soap: In your pantry!

Price: Yeah... and eating them raw, and they keep calling them 'chips'. ... How do I make them stop?

Ghost: Is your friend here?

Price, motioning to R/n: Yeah.

Gaz, to R/n: You're a monster! Words MEAN things! >:(

Soap: Does anybody remember- I haven't been to Olive Garden in many moons- but they DO have a like- fettuccine bottle that you can just- grab em out of and chew-

Soap: HOLD ON. WAS THIS A PRANK YOU GUYS PULLED ON ME WHEN WE WENT TO OLIVE GARDEN AFTER THAT MISSION?!

Soap: NO, STOP. EVERYBODY SHUT UP. DO THEY GIVE YOU RAW FETTUCCINE TO CHEW ON IN THE LOBBY OF THE OLIVE GARDEN

Everyone else: No.

Soap, to Gaz and R/n: YOU FUCKIN BASTARDS

Gaz: YAAAAAAAAY!

R/n: THE PRESTIGE!

Price: What did you guys get in your yearbook?

Gaz: 'Prettiest Smile'

Soap: 'Nicest Personality'

Ghost: 'Most likely to start a bar fight'

R/n: 'Least likely to start a bar fight, but most likely to win one'

Price: What if the person who named Walkie Talkies named everything?

Soap: Pregnancy tests are Maybe Babies

R/n: Socks are Feetie Heaties

Gaz: Forks are Stabby Grabbies

Soap: Defibrillators are Heartie Starties

R/n: Nightmares are Dreamy Screamies

Gaz: Stamps are Lickie Stickies

Ghost, annoyed: You are disappointments

Price to Ghost: You agreed to join the team.

Soap: I’m an idiot.

Ghost:

Price:

Gaz:

R/n:

Soap:

R/n: If you’re waiting for us to disagree, this is going to be a long day.

This stupid long omg, uh anyway I used a incorrect quote generator cause I'm lazy but edited most of them so the make some more sense :>

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wongyuuu · 7 months

Text

seventeen as songs from red (ts)

a/n: for this, i'll be giving songs and lyrics to each of the members, as well as small plots based on those lyrics. i don't plan to write all of these, but they are still my ideas (as basic as some of them might be). so if you are interested in writing one of them, you can message me about it. if you want to read one of them you can send in a request and i'll write for you

• Seungcheol ➝ Red Faster than the wind, passionate as sin, ending so suddenly ↳ Seungcheol is a clandestine race driver, all bad boy, but his entire life changes once he meets you ↣ read here

• Jeonghan ➝ Everything Has Changed And all my walls stood tall, painted blue But I'll take 'em down, take 'em down And open up the door for you ↳ Jeonghan always held back in his relationships but when you come into his life, like a sudden thunderstorm, he can't help but let you in.

• Joshua ➝ The Very First Night But don't forget about the night out in L.A Dance in the kitchen, chase me down through the hallway No one knows about the words that we whispered ↳ Joshua has always been your best friend so when the two of you go on a trip together the feelings you've been holding back for years finally boil over.

• Jun ➝ Begin Again But on a Wednesday, in a café, I watched it begin again ↳ everyday Jun goes to the same café in hopes that one day he’ll get enough courage to ask the cute barista out. ↣ read here

• Soonyoung➝ Treacherous Forever going with the flow But you're friction ↳ you were always the kind of kid who followed the rules and that didn't change as you grew up. So what happens when you move to another city and your new neighbor, Soonyoung, is the most spontaneous person you've ever met and is adamant in taking you along to all of his adventures?

• Wonwoo ➝ Come Back… Be Here One last kiss, then catch your flight Right when I was about to fall I told myself, "Don't get attached" But in my mind, I play it back Spinning faster than the plane that took you ↳ when you agreed to a date with the popular idol you promised yourself that you would never catch feelings for him. But once is time to say goodbye, when his job demands he travels to another country, you find yourself reluctant to say goodbye.

• Jihoon ➝ I Bet You Think About Me "Oh my god, she's insane, she wrote a song about me" I bet you think about me ↳ Jihoon is usually the one writing songs about his relationships, so it surprises him when he comes across a song written about him.

• Minghao ➝ The Moment I Knew A million little shining stars that just align ↳ Minghao used to have stars in his eyes whenever he looked at you, so when they're gone you don't know where that leaves you.

• Mingyu ➝ State of Grace So you were never a saint and I loved in shades of wrong We learn to live with the pain, mosaic broken hearts But this love is brave and wild ↳ you were always one to fall in love with the wrong guy, but what if the wrong guy turns out to be the right one?

• Seokmin ➝ Message In A Bottle And I became hypnotized By freckles and bright eyes, tongue-tied ↳ Seokmin has many beauty spots all over his body, you make a point of knowing each one of them. ↣ read here

• Vernon ➝ I Almost Do I bet you think I either moved on or hate you 'Cause each time you reach out, there's no reply I bet it never, ever occurred to you That I can't say hello to you and risk another goodbye ↳ After a bad breakup, Vernon wants to get in touch with you again - even if it's just to apologize - but the task is harder than expected. So he decides to leave voice messages to you, in hopes that you'll hear them.

• Seungkwan ➝ Run So you laugh like a child And I'll sing like no one cares No one to be and no one to tell I could see this view a hundred times Pale blue sky reflected in your eyes ↳ Seungkwan decides to take you on a date under the stars.

• Chan ➝ 22 We're happy, free, confused, and lonely in the best way It's miserable and magical, oh yeah Tonight's the night when we forget about the heartbreaks ↳ in a desperate attempt to take his mind off of his recent breakup, Chan invites all of his friends to a karaoke night at his place. And, maybe, that's where he finds the one he's been looking for.

taglist: @wonwooz1, @ryuwonieebae, @sobun1est, @mirtaspace, @ho34gojo, @feat-sun, @wonvsmile, @mhlsymlysn, @swinterr, @immabecreepin, @uniq-tastic, @miriamxsworld

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#k-labels #seventeen imagine #svt imagine #choi seungcheol #yoon jeonghan #hong joshua #moon junhui #kwon soonyoung #jeon wonwoo #lee jihoon #xu minghao #lee seokmin #kim mingyu #chwe hansol #boo seungkwan #lee chan

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samstclair · 7 months

Text

Tommy Shelby's Barmaid

Tommy Shelby X Reader

Anonymous Request -

Good morning/afternoon/evening/night Sammy Sammy yes I am! So check this out - I just saw Oppenheimer and came to the conclusion that I really miss seeing Cillian Murphy's face. So that night I began rewatching Peaky Blinders and am just in awe. So you know the point. I want to be his barmaid. No hate to Grace, love her, but let a girl just imagine. And that's where you come in. So yeah I wanna be his barmaid and sing to him. Maybe we're off to the races? Do your thing or else I'll might do a thing and report your account! :)

Word Count: pretty long

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"And where are we off to, Miss?"

"One ticket to London, please!" you told the airport cashier, (or whatever they're called I'm not sure tbh), with your gleeful, bimbo smile. "The UK, one, thought. Not the Ohio one! Can't have that happening again!"

The lady didn't respond, she instead gave you a soft customer service fake ass laugh pretending she knew full well what you were talking about and kept her eyes down on the computer, securing that flight. You no longer trusted yourself to use computers or laptops, thanks to those Benadryl pills you used to be addicted to. But now that you were evicted from your New York apartment, you lost those pills in the process, and honestly all of your personal shit, so you've been forced to quit cold turkey and was actually experiencing withdrawals at the very moment. But, you couldn't let anyone know this! You needed to leave America fast.

"Okay, to confirm your name, Y/L/N, Y/F/N, correct?"

"Yes, ma'am!" You passed her your credit card and she did her magic, charging you a fuck ton of money!

The printer pooped out your ticket and she passed both that and your card back to you.

"Enjoy your flight. Safe travels," the lady wished you.

"Oh my god, girl, you too!" you wished back. You turned around and found your terminal, buying an expensive Starbucks drink of your choice and plopping your big butt down on a chair. You sat and looked around, sipping your coffee like a mother, taking in your surroundings of this little JFK airport they got going on.

"I'm really a world traveler right now...like, I'm on some Lewis and Clark shit right now," you thought to yourself.

You looked down at your luggages, or perhaps, just luggage. All that remained after your eviction just filled one Hello Kitty-themed suitcase you bought from TJ Maxx. You also had your rare vintage Juicy Couture purse you bought from Depop, thats faux leather was literally peeling off like dead skin, filled with all your essentials - lip gloss, nearly dead Elf Bar, crumpled up two-year-Goodwill old receipts, wired headphones because that's what cool people use walking down the street, crystals, loose hair ties, a baby Calico Critter, wire-exposed phone charger, and more that aren't too important to mention. You did miss all your other knick knacks and items that were lost, but since you were traveling light you 1. saved more money since it was just carry-on and 2. looked mysterious, just a girl on the road on her own adventure.

"After all, items are just like - items. Things." you thought, trying to convince yourself that all material items are just not real and people don't really need those things. This is what you repeated to yourself over and over but in all honesty it wasn't helping. You were fucking pissed you lost all your shit.

With all your items was your go-to airport fit - a Juicy baby blue tracksuit. So now you resorted to old PJ's you had shoved to the bottom depths of your drawer, wrinkled to the house boots down and forgotten of existence. They were a pair of Nike shorts and a baby tee that read "I <3 Surfer Boys". You then looked down to your white Crocs with the knock-off Jibblitz - the ootd would just have to do.

As you sat in your terminal, waiting, you thought about what adventures UK would bring to you. You wondered what people you'd encounter, what new storylines you'd get wrapped into, what NPCs would say to you - it really did feel like you were fast-traveling into another country in a video game.

Safe to say, you were ready for liftoff! Whenever that liftoff! would be because your flight was delayed like three times cause that's just airport things! This was the start of a new adventure! New and humble beginnings! No more America and their never-ending obsession with you committing financial fraud or whatever the IRS loved to say! But never mind that don't ask don't PUSH!!!!!!

Some hours later, you were finally able to board your flight. By this time, let's just say - people were fucking pissed about their flight being delayed, but you didn't really mind it. Yes, you were in a big time rush to leave America as soon as possible, but all that time waiting allowed you to finish the only downloaded show on your phone: LPS Popular. Shit was finally getting heated, Savannah Reed was def the no nonsense type of girl you envisioned yourself to be.

Anyway whatever you boarded on, took your window seat and went through the usual bullshit of waiting for everyone to board on and take off and turbulence and random ass baby crying and shitty food and whatever.

About a half hour in the sky, you looked through the catalogue of movies available - none which caught your interest.

However, after scrolling for another half hour - you found the one.

"Oh my god, a movie about two lovers flying in the sky staring Cillian Murphy and Rachel McAdams?!" you thought excitedly. "That's some good shit right there."

You hit that play button, scooted deeper into that seat, propped your patas up, and was subsequently locked IN for the short ass movie Red Eye.

The majority of the plot went over your head because you were to entranced with the Irish actor's cunty little face, sassy little attitude and blue big orbs for eyes, causing you to replay certain scenes over and over. (Specifically that bathroom scene. You didn't miss SHIT there). That hour and a half passed by and the movie had finished. Safe to say, you were NOT expecting any of that shit to go down.

"If that were me, I'd call that fucking hotel before he even told me to. Shit. I get Mark Wahlberg, if I was on that plane, things really would have gone differently," you thought, shaking your head. ]

After your almost seven hour flight, you had finally made it to London Town. It was indeed a stormy day, he was right, but you could go outside and roam around, contrary to popular belief. In order to prep for this trip, you stuck to just watching British films, trying to get an overall vibe of what those little redcoats were like. Pride and Prejudice (2005), Love Actually, Trainspotting, Little Women (Greta's version), Clockwork Orange, Barry Lyndon - let's just say, your Letterboxd was going crazy. You sobbed pretty disgustingly to all of them, except Trainspotting and Clockwork, which made you feel just icky. And Barry Lyndon just made you angry fuck that guy fr.

A/N - I just realized that Little Women, both Greta's version and the older 90s Winona Ryder one take place, in FACT, America. Oops! So yeah disregard move on u horndog <3

You once thought you were well-rounded on what chaos was, after all, you've been 1. in theater school, 2. briefly in the Medellin cartel, 3. worked in corporate America - but all of those experiences looked like fun Sunday pastimes the moment you stepped your fat butt off of the plane into London's Heathrow airport. Nothing could've prepped you for this shit. Too many people all doing different things in different directions was NOT your favorite place to be in! Let's just say - shit was hectic.

You boarded off, left your terminal and gathered your one Hello Kitty-themed suitcase and bolted the fuck out, running at your highest speed possibly, your Crocs locked in their sports mode, you just ran. It's what you did best, your superpower some might say. Maybe since Ezra Miller is canceled for being a kidnapper, you could possibly replace the Flash? Who knows tbh.

You ran so fast, miles and miles, (kilometers here!), you didn't realize you were now standing in front of the Big Ben. It was, admittedly, pretty big. Too bad you couldn't read time like that.

You looked down to your phone to see your receipt - you needed to be back in three hours for your next flight to Glasgow, Scotland - your actual destination. This London shit? Yeah it was only a layover. But you couldn't miss it.

You ended up missing it. You fell asleep on the big red bus, thinking you could sneak a little tour in before having to return for your next flight. By the time you woke up, it was morning, and you were alone, just you and your carry on.

"Ello Miss? Miss?"

Your eyes fluttered, adjusting to the brightness. A big English dude with missing and fucked up teeth was poking you awake.

"Bro what?" you muttered, pushing yourself up.

"Miss, it seems you've drifted off to sleep," the man said.

"Wait," you collected your thoughts, looked around at your surroundings, then down to your phone - your flight was seven hours ago. You felt your heart fall to the acidic pits of your stomach -

"Ain't no fucking way I'm stuck in London", you blurted out. "AIN'T NO FUCKING WAY!"

As if you took ten shots of DayQuil, you jumped up, scrambled for your shit and rocked the bus side to side as your Crocs took you across it, out to the exit and back onto the cobblestone streets of London Town. It was cloudy as always.

"Oh no. Oh fuck. Oh no. NO I CAN'T DO THIS I CAN'T!" you yelled, running back towards the direction of that hell of an airport. You needed to get back. You NEEDED to get back to Scotland, you literally saw Trainspotting just for Scotland!

But alas, it was too late. By the time you made it back to Heathrow, there was no refunding. You would have to pay another fat BUCK to get on another flight.

"Oh fuck that," you told the English lady. You walked back out, no way this little kingdom was gonna make a profit off of your ass. "I'd rather walk!"

And then you began to walk. Not run, you were a little hungry and needed some energy for that amount of dedication.

You stopped by a tea place and thought that you might as well have a crumpet or whatever, which sucked ass. They charged so much for what? A pastry with like three grams of sugar? Girl bye.

You sat on the curb, looking down at your phone and opening a map, you could literally just walk to Scotland. Yeah it'd be a pretty fat walk, but you might get a crazy BBL ass for free from all the walking.

"Babes? Are you alroight?" you heard a strong British voice call. You turned and there it was - a chav. A real fucking chav.

"Oh my god, you guys exist?"

She furrowed her dark over-filled brows as she smacked her nude-lipsticked lips on a piece of gum. There were other chavs behind her, all bleach blonde, overly tan and red ass cheeks. It was like your friend group, but in an alternate universe.

"Wot?" she asked again, more confused than offended.

"Listen girl, I don't know if you can tell - but I'm not from here. I need to get to from the UK to Scotland. How does a girl like me do that?"

"Babes? Yor in the UKay, loike, this is London?"

"Huh?" you asked, like Trisha Paytas in the car.

"Babes," another chimed in, "the UKay is loike, mooltiple places poot into one? Loike, England, Scotland, Ireland, Wales -"

"Oh, so they're all like, the same?"

Their faces dropped with fear.

"Babes, don't say that. I've just met you, but I'd definitely tell you loike, don't say that around other peepol," the main chav warned.

"Especially the Irish, yeah," another said. "They'd be mentool."

"Oh, no worries here. I'm an ally to all," you assured, "so do you know where I can rest for the night?"

"Babes!" the chav said excitedly, "I've got family in Birmingham! It's up norf, already on the way for yor travels! I'll text me nana so you can stay there fo free!"

"Babes," you said, you're cheap frugal ass getting hyped, "you're such a babe! Thanks girlie!"

You ended up dropping some money to take an Underground from London to Birmingham, because you then really realized your Crocs could only momentarily take you so far. Also, tat withdrawal wasn't doing you any favors. Anyway you enjoyed the ride, drinking some complimentary tea with your headphones in and disassociating as you looked out the window into the cement walls. You started to regret not bringing some sort of sweater because who would've thought a baby tee and Nike shorts would be enough. Shit was chilly.

You stepped off into the platform, feeling a strong GUST of wind rush past you. You first kinda enjoyed it like it was some sort of main character moment, but the moment that ghastly smell of smoke hit your nostrils - you went frozen like Mitch McConnell.

"Jeeeeeesus CHRIST!" you bellowed, "who fucking farted?"

You looked around, but soon became even more confused. Everyone was giving you the hardest stares you've ever received in your lifetime. But it wasn't their stares, no, you've been stared at before for worst things, it was cause of their - fits.

Everyone was dressed like some 1900s shit. It reminded you of the show Downton Abbey, the show your old boss Logan Roy used to binge. Little particles of what looked like dandruff floated around you and everything else just seemed gray.

"Wait, are you guys filming?" you asked in your bimbo self, smiling, "did I just walk onto set?"

No one replied. They really thought you were insane. There you were - rough looking, mid-withdrawal, I <3 Surfer Boys, old high school Nike shorts, Crocs, Five Below socks, Dollar Store sunnies, Hello Kitty-themed suitcase and Juicy bag, Elf bar in one hand and your phone with dangling earbuds wrapped around it. They were petrified.

You grew angry. You just stood there as they stood there too - both you and the Downton Abbey cosplayers were in a stand off.

"Okay whatever," you said, rolling your eyes. "Stay hating!"

You whipped around and began walking down the pavement, calling, or as the English say "ringing", that chav's nana. However, it rang and rang, you dialed and dialed, the lady was not picking up.

"Um, what the fuck?" you said looking down at your phone, "can this girl pick up?"

You continued to dial, your other hand to your waist like a Karen. You continued to look around as it rang, really impressed with the set.

It had been very foggy, and the cobblestone roads led down between old brick buildings where people in their 1920's costumes walked along, smoking and dodging the occasional explosion from the coal-burning coming from inside the buildings. Horses were trotting, carrying hay and other shit. People were yelling in their crazy accents and the dandruff kept raining down. Pillars up in the sky let out dark clouds of smoke. That gross exhaust smell still lingered, and no matter how much Nicki Minaj body spray you put on yourself, there was no way to mask it.

"Great. I'm homeless AGAIN!" you thought, giving up on that nana. "Whatever. I didn't even want a roof to sleep under anyway. C'est la vie honestly."

The stares did not cease. In fact, it got worse. You knew you were hot but like what the fuck can't a girl just walk and bitches mind their business?

Things were getting worse. The cobblestone ass road made it hard for you to pull your suitcase, so you were just essentially dragging it, you phone was on ten percent, you were hungry and thirsty because let's be real you did not eat much on that train, and honestly just over it.

You passed all the workers, dodged some random explosions, evaded random running children, spit some of that dandruff out of your mouth. Safe to say, you were angry but needed to persevere!

Eventually it was nighttime. You couldn't really tell if it was night or if it was just the pollution in the air at first, but after asking a random man he assured you it was indeed nighttime.

"I don't know how you guys live with all this dandruff," you told him, shaking your head. "You guys must be getting paid good as extras."

"Dandruff?" the man said, "that's ash, luv!"

"Thank god, that makes more sense. I was thinking I was gonna need to buy some Heads and Shoulders. I hate Heads and Shoulders."

He continued to look at you weird while he smoke his, what you were pretty sure in the span of you two talking, sixth cigarette. "Heads and shoulders? Fuck are they to do with your hair?"

"I know, horrible branding. I feel bad for the people in Pompeii. They probably thought it was like, a dandruff epidemic."

Eventually the man directed you to the Garrison, which was supposed to be this pub or whatever that all the locals hit up. You really just wanted a drink of water and like Taco Bell or something. Maybe a "Macky D's"? By the time you made it to the establishment, it was midnight, since you took forever cause you kept getting lost.

It was situated in a weird spot, where several men would occasionally run out and throw up bad on the dirt floor. It sounded hella noisy and rough in there, which was something you were not looking forward to. But again, you're hungry.

"I'm fucking starving," you thought to yourself as you pushed those heavy doors open, your suitcase getting caught in them. A surge of anger caused you to yank it past the swinging door, causing the it to slam against the wall and crack the glass. You got scared cause you didn't wanna pay for it, so you applied the "hear nothing, see nothing" tactic. It always worked <3

Nothing could've prepared you for when you entered. The energy was just not it. Heathrow vibes for sure. Hoards of drunk ass English men doing, well, things that drunk English men do. They were yelling, cursing, fighting, just being overall very annoying and overwhelming. It took you by surprise, you were just in awe that English were real. It was literally like a Call of Duty lobby but the English colonized it as they always do.

"These motherfuckers are crazy bro," you thought to yourself, getting a seat at the bar. The bartender made his way to you, and after some hesitation on his end, he finally spoke.

"Em, what can I get you, ma'am?" he asked, looking at you confused.

"Y'all got a menu?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Food, bro. I want food." You were not having it.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid there's just drinks here."

"Fine, fucking alcoholics," you said, holding in your hangriness, "what about water?"

"Huh," he thought, "no one ever asks for water. I forgot we served it!"

He turned around and as he began to pour some crusty water into a dusty glass, you felt a tap on your shoulder. But before you could even turn to ask what the fuck whoever wanted what, another big burly English drunk dude was all up in your face.

"ELLO MISS! MIGHT I HAVE A CHANCE AT BUYIN' YA A DRINK?"

You were flabbergasted. Dude REEKED of some ale.

"Uh, you stink," was all you could muster, pressing your fingers on your nose.

His face fell into a very angry one. "YOU FOOCKIN' JEZEBEL!"

You weren't sure what 'jezebel' meant so you just rolled your eyes and turned back to the new glass of water placed in front of you by the bartender, and before he could walk off you downed the entire thing. He, too, like McConnell, was frozen at your abilities.

"Sorry about that man, Miss," the bartender said as he poured you another. "You're very pretty. Must be getting used to it by now around here."

"Yeah, like, about that," you started, taking your time with the water this time because you didn't know how much they had left in this place, "why is everyone cosplaying? Like, people here are DEEP into their character, which, don't get me wrong - I respect. I used to be a theater major myself, so I get it. But this is like, crazy. I know the English love their theater, but god."

The bartender, with a hypothetical gun to his head, could not for the life of him understand what the fuck you meant. You kinda got that vibe when he didn't reply right away. He actually looked worried for your mental wellbeing.

"Um, why did you just like, disassociate?" you asked.

"I'm sorry, Miss," he chuckled nervously, "you've just confused me, is all."

"Yeah, all that alcohol is giving you that early onset dementia. Do you know where I can get food around here?"

"Hmm," he thought, "I don't really know, to be honest with ya. And it's quite late, so I'm not sure what's open."

You could cry. You hated being hungry and tired at the same time, added to literally everything else that was happening around you. You were able to tune out the drunken men yelling behind you, but only to a point - mama was close to blowing.

"Oh my GOD," you started. "WHAT'S A GIRL TO DO TO GET SOME FUCKING FOOD AROUND HERE?!" you caught yourself. The bartender was growing more concerned. "I'm sorry," you cleared your voice, "it's just like, your queen for real sucked."

"Queen?" he asked.

"Wow, you're really dedicated to the craft. Like I said, I respect." You continued to drink your water.

"How'd you end up here in London, anyway?" he asked, leaning against the counter. You later found out his name was Harry, like Styles.

"Oh, buddy," you said, "what a story I have for you."

You then began to blabber on about what brought you to this point, which helped because it made you forget about your current grievances. Soon, the entire pub went dead quiet, tuned in to your story time. You felt like Tana Mongeau, and these were your viewers. You get why the majority of YouTubers were lowkey conceited. (Not Tana though she's funny love you girl <3). It was like a big kindergarten story time.

About half an hour later, you were mid-way through.

"And so, when my boss literally fucking died, I was like, 'oh shit, I've like lost my job by like, proxy'? It was scary."

"How'd he pass?" one of the drunk men asked.

"Dude, get this. He died getting his phone out of the toilet. Like, some Elvis shit," realizing they wouldn't get what you just said, you thought it best to move right on, "anyway, I was like, 'maybe this is a good time to move on, maybe America isn't the place for me.' I was also wanted by the Men in Black, too. They don't fuck around."

"Who's the Men in Black?" Harry asked.

"The IRA were after ya?" another asked, in shock.

"I. R.S. It's not important. So, after he died, one of his kids had to be chosen to take over the company. Imagine like a Game of Thrones sort of thing. My on-and-off boyfriend, Kendall, is the oldest so you'd think it'd be him, right? Like, his name was underlined and everything. Or crossed out, you know, is the dress blue and black or white and gold? The day of, I snuck into the building for the board meeting. I wasn't supposed to be there, cause you know, I'm not a share holder or whatever, but I thought 'if I act like nothing happened, maybe technically I'm NOT fired cause my boss died, maybe nobody will say anything?' Confidence takes you a loooong way let me tell you! So at the board meeting, I voted Kendall, but his stupid home alone ass brother Roman was like 'oh YOU'RE still here?'. Then he told me to fuck off and that I should've died with Logan? Could you believe that?"

They were all in shock, muttering angry English curse words to each other.

"And then I was like, 'no fuck you. What ever happened to democracy? I don't have a vote?'. But whatever, Kendall didn't win and he left the building. No, Horton Hears a Who Tom won, and while everybody was celebrating I was like, 'guys? GUYS! ALL EYES ON WINDOWS! WHERE DID KENDALL GO? All eyes on windows!'. Then I got like, kicked out or whatever. I kept spamming Kendall, texting him and calling him and nothing. Like 'Kenny, wya???'. He was ghosting me. Then I saw right after he put his phone on Do Not Disturb. Targeted, really. I saw his location at Central Park, facing the water, and this had me WORRIED. Kendall and bodies of water? Yeah they don't mix well. I needed to talk to him before he jumped! But when I got there, his new dumbass body guard was like, 'Can you leave? He's not seeing anyone'. I kept calling him, and he wouldn't turn to look at me. He was like, mega dissociating watching that horizon."

"Must've killed him that he's no longer the number one boy," a drunken English man said, somber.

"Def," you said.

"So you and Kendall?" another asked.

"No more. He never picked up, so I thought we were done," the men in the bar were devastated. "Yeah, really sad. I already mourned, though. So, yeah, I was like, 'what do I do now?' Logan gave me some money, so I can really just do anything? I was walking down the streets of New York and saw a random man in a suit I thought was the IRS, and it hit me - I'm lowkey a fugitive? I need to like, leave. Logan isn't there to protect me anymore, you know? And then it hit me - I'll go to Scotland! In Logan's honor! Like, his hometown. Plus, I thought Scotland didn't have extradition, but it was actually Venezuela. But it's okay, same shit. And that's why I'm here."

"But this is Birmingham?" another man said.

"Oh, yeah, don't worry I fully aware. But yeah, that's it."

Again, the pub had been silent. They'd been intrigued, captivated. You waited for someone to speak up and break the silence, but about two minutes later you realized that wasn't gonna happen.

"Okay? Anyway, so nothing to eat here?" you asked Harry.

He shook his head, stunned. You then slowly crept off the chair, gathered your shit and saw your way out. "Weirdos," you thought.

You exited back out, it was now fully dark with few lampposts shining light onto the falling dandruff. It all reminded you of exactly where you were - stuck.

You slumped against the wall, onto the ground where you didn't see any of the mud that splashed all over your shorts. You were too tired and over it to give a fuck. You pulled out your phone, and saw the battery on 2%.

"Man FUCK!" you exclaimed, "I know damn well none of these Lin Manuel Miranda stans built an electric socket."

You went on to scroll mindlessly through your feed, which barely loaded because of the lack of signal. You were in the middle of spamming the refresh button until you received a notification from Snapchat that read, "One Year Ago Today". You clicked it open, forgetting you still had that app downloaded, and its contents nearly pushed you over the edge to start balling.

You clicked play.

"Oh, don't be a pussy, Greggguh!"

"Mumusdsfjks," Greg said, shoving more marshmallows into his mouth, "Chubb Bunif."

"Sorry, buddy, couldn't hear you!" Tom said, giddy, shoving his own marshmallow down Greg's mouth.

"You got it Greg!" you heard yourself say.

You wanted to cry. You wished you could just go back to Waystar in that moment, playing the Chubby Bunny challenge with gay lovers Tom and Greg.

"Man, I miss them," you thought. But alas, that was all gone now...

You quickly closed the video, going to your bank app to see how much money remained. After all, Logan DID leave you with enough, but you couldn't help yourself on those McDonald's breakfast orders through Uber Eats.

Your tears quickly evaporated like they were put through the snap of Thanos when you got a glance of your credit score though. Oh no.

"OH MY GOD?!??! MY CREDIT IS AT 400????!!? I'M LIKE, FUCKED?!???!"

"What's a credit score?"

You nearly shit yourself at the deep, sullen voice. You looked up and let's just say - you were intimidated. It's the terrorist dude from Red Eye. He wore a flat cap and a tweed little suit type of fit.

But it wasn't the tweed that had you transfixed - no, it was those eyes....they were familiar. The last time you felt power of being in a trance like that were those Furbies... it forced you to look at them, you had lost all ability of self-control. They made you question yourself, your purpose and whole life being. They were commanding you with their uncanny valley vibe. Their immense gravity caused all time to slow...

"Dude, put those away!" you yelled, forcing your eyes shut and looking away.

He didn't reply.

"I'm sorry," you giggled, realizing he wasn't gonna reply to you and instead just stood there. "I'm just really hungry. You got anything?"

He thought for a moment. "Actually...we don't eat." He had a little sassy, matter-of-factly tone of speaking you fucked with heavily.

"Yeah, that's why your official dish is tikka masala," a glance of that dish popped into your head. "Man I could fuck that up right now."

"I can take you to my office, I might have something there," he said. You agreed right after, anything would have to do. Little did you know, this would be the man who would save you. Not in a self-fulfilling sense but he'd grab you something to eat.

You two made it to his office, some ways away. It was just a big ass dark room with tables in the middle, which you would later find out the betting on his horse racing took place.

You sat down and he took off his coat and goofy ass hat, then went to the back for a moment. You looked around, you felt like you were in a dungeon. You looked down to your phone - shit was dead.

He came back moments later, with a single loaf of bread he placed in front of you. He then took a seat across from you, took out a cigarette and did what the English do best, smoke.

You were a bit taken aback, and it definitely showed, since his little sassy face got more sassier.

"Well?" he bellowed, motioning to the food.

"Honestly," you started, not wanting to offend cause he did scare you (in a hot way), "I don't know what more I was expecting. I know Panera bread when I see it."

You began to eat, he just watched you. You would be annoyed had this been anyone else, but man was too fine.

Some minutes went by, and he just smoked while you ate. He was definitely a man of few words.

"You're so mysterious," you said. "Is that your character?"

He took in a big puff and put his feet up on the table like he owned the place, cause he literally did. "You don't belong here."

"Yeah, no fucking shit. I'm supposed to be in Scotland."

"What's in Scotland?" he asked, tapping his cigarette into an empty whiskey glass.

"Bagpipes, I've heard."

He then leaned to the side, grabbing his cigarette case out and offering you one. You declined.

"It's okay, I don't like cigarettes. They're gross," you went inside your bag and pulled out your crusty geriatric Elf Bar that was on life support, "here, try this! She's my sidekick!"

He stared at it, not a thought behind those eyes. He then rose up.

"What about a whiskey, eh?" He went to a table against the wall and poured two glasses. You shrugged at his decline of your Elf Bar, and took some shitty hits cause girl it's dead give it up.

As he had his back to you pouring the glasses, you really thought about how manly he was, in a way all those Ryan Gosling Drive stans love. He reminded you of those mafia boss fanfics you used to read. The way he spoke was so low and serious, but it made your feet rock like crazy!

He turned back around and placed your glass in front of you. Before he sat, he took a swing of his and literally drank it all in one shot like an animal. Wanting to impress him, you did the same, but soon regretted it right after. You'd tried whiskey before, but that was just not good. It was so strong it burned your esophagus, causing you to feel like you had strep throat all over again. You nearly gagged and threw it up but you couldn't let Tommy see you that way. He was staring.

"Jesus Christ," you said in a raspy, chain smoker voice, trying to smile through the pain, "that's some real shit right there. I'd much prefer a BuzzBall."

"What brings you to the UK?" he asked again, a little more interrogating.

"Fine. I'm avoiding parole."

"Parole?"

"Have you ever been on parole?" you asked.

He took a moment, your question hit hard. "Ever since men like me got back from France, we've always felt we were on parole under the king." He had a sadness to it, which then made you kinda sad.

"Aww, you're a parole baby <3."

He rose his brows in a "yeah this girl off it" way.

"Does France give you bad memories?" you asked, wanting to know both out of being a nosy bitch and seeing if you could break him.

"Most nights," he said.

"Don't worry, me too."

"You served?"

"I might has well have," you replied, thinking of that past life living with your old boyfriend.

"I wasn't aware women served."

"We always do," you assured. You kept looking into his eyes like it was a staring contest.

"What's it you're looking at?"

"You have a very, no-nonsense cunty face. Like BBL," you first smiled telling him that, but it then reminded you of when you told your old boyfriend Kendall the same thing. The thought of him made you sad, you wondered where your number one boy was now...

You didn't realize but Tommy noticed your change in demeanor, initially believing you were thinking about your time during the war in France. He rose and grabbed another drink, placing one in front of you as he killed his in less than a second.

You snapped out of your sadness. "Oh, no thanks. I don't think I can have anymore. This trip will definitely be very detoxing for me."

You two then sat in comfortable silence for some time, as if you two were both mourning after the innocence lost before France. You were something different for him, a new comfort he couldn't find much else in that polluted ass city. And you found comfort in him, he really did seem like he needed fixing. But that's not what you do, no no, he's a grown ass man and can fix himself. You'll just watch from the sidelines <3.

Eventually, you stayed in Birmingham. Once you were aware that your money had no value in the UK, you realized you needed to be employed again to save up for Scotland. Dollars, turns out, did not equal shillings and pounds or whatever. Tommy hooked you up after finding out your situation and generously gave you a job at the Garrison as a barmaid, along with Harry, who in time, became your BFF. It wasn't that hard of a job, these men never mixed any drinks and would instead have their alcohol straight like a bunch of monsters, so you kinda ate at this job. Another perk was that these 1920s bitches loved thin eyebrows, so your Y2K overplucked eyebrows fit right in! Full circle shit!

But perhaps the best perk was when Tommy would come in every so often and give you a little LOOK. Oh that shit made you rabid yes it did! It made you all hot down there and you couldn't handle it! You two barely spoke, as he would go into the side room for meetings and whatever mumbo jumbo he got up to with his brothers, but when you did you did your best to bring out that old femme fatale. You knew damn well he'd fuck that shit up. And let's be real so did you.

You knew that you had Tommy in your CLUTCH when he was once lecturing you - basically there was talk about some Billy Kimber dude amongst him and his brothers and the members of the gang, but you couldn't get past how fun it was to say the man's name, especially in their wild ass accent. You kept incessantly shouting it, to what you thought was a joke, "BILLY FACKIN KIMBA" in every possible moment you could, but it would send all the men into a paranoid shock thinking Billy boy was just around the corner. Obviously, he wasn't, in fact you couldn't point out who Billy Kimber was in a crowd of English, but let's just say - it sent them for a sheer panic. They would constantly tell Tommy to get you to stop, since it was bringing back war trauma basically and never felt fear like that since the war. You personally thought they were being a bunch of pussies but whatevs.

Anyway Tommy found you at the bar after closing and wanted to have a serious talk with you - no more random BILLY FACKIN KIMBA. As he was lecturing you on the dangers of it, you actually started to disassociate in those eyes of his. You then started to think,

"What if I just grabbed his hat?"

Those intrusive thoughts grew stronger and stronger as the moments flew by and the more his voice became a bunch of muffled nothing. And they won.

"GOTCHA HAT!" you spat before taking his flat cap off and running with it, jumping over the bar on some parkour shit and pushing those doors open onto the grimy streets of Birmingham, in an excited manic. You ran for nothing, since you didn't notice in the adrenaline of it all he didn't move an inch and instead just stood at the bar, stumped. From that point on, he knew you weren't like other girls. Cause let's be real who in their right fucking mind would do that to Tommy Shelby? You did girl xoxo <3

But when your image with Tommy REALLY hit home for the guy, it was one night. One very special night...

You were working the night shift at the Garrison, again. It was another rainy day in London Town, and you were all alone cleaning up. You started to think about Gabbie Hanna, and how low key right she was. You continued to rap to yourself,

"♪ Overwhelmed, overworked, overpaid. I'm on top of the world sitting pretty ♪ -"

The doors flew open, causing you to jump pretty high up. You looked to the entrance, it was Tommy. And man was drenched and tired looking, your fave combo.

He walked over, behind the bar and poured himself a glass of whiskey. He was always a little emo and to himself, but something about him now was really depressing, like man's definitely going through it.

He then took a seat at a table, and looked at you with dead eyes.

"What's with the frown?" you asked, trying to lighten up the mood but was severely unsuccessful. (Unbeknownst to you he literally just had to put down a horse he thought was cursed :/ it's a canon event!)

He didn't reply. Surprise surprise instead he just drank his whiskey done. You chewed your gum, clueless.

You just continued to clean, continuing Gabbie's rhyme in your head.

"♪ Overwhelmed, overwork, underpaid ♪ -"

"Can you sing?"

You turned around again. He fr sounded sad asf. It shocked you, cause did he like, read your mind or sum?

"Uh, yeah. You want me to sing?"

"Every barmaid knows how to sing."

"Okay, sure. Like acapella?"

He just stared at you, lost again with your mumbo jumbo.

"Well, I know Lana, I know Nicki, my ex had a song L to the OG-"

"Lana. She sounds nice."

You nodded. "She really is, I love her. Okay, I think I know a song."

"Stand up there," he pointed to a table. You were a bit hesitant, the last time you did that you ate shit like that one girl on YouTube who was also singing on a table and ate shit. But it was for Tommy so you did so anyway.

You climbed up, took out your gum, flicked it in a bucket, cleared your throat, moved your hair out of your face, and fixed your posture - this was your Pose moment tonight, and Tommy's Billy Porter.

You then started to sing White Mustang by Lana, but the moment you got to the chorus, which was, well, White Mustang, he told you to stop.

"Something else, please," he asked demanding yet softly.

"What? Too close to home? Don't worry, Lana does that," you assured, "here, I'll sing a song that hits close to me, it's called How to disappear, it's what do when I'm trying to run from the IRS."

You cleared your throat again and started to sing and girl you ATE THAT SHIT!!!!!

You hit those fucking notes, you were lost in your little own world envisioning yourself in a music video. You understood why America's Got Talent contestants were nervous, cause the pressure? Yeah it's real. And not only is Tommy Billy Porter, he's also Simon Cowell - a yes from that Brit would secure your spot.

Speaking OF Tommy, because momentarily you forgot he was there with you - the man was enthralled, ENCHANTED. He sat silently, the rainwater dripping down his face, as he was taking in every small gesture you made, taking in every musical note that came out of your BBL mouth, (even the voice cracks), and just taking, well, you in. At that very moment, he was in love. YOU were the femme fatale he needed in his life, the one that would complete him, make him feel whole, and would give him purpose.

Once you were finished, you snapped back into reality and realized you actually weren't in a music video. You looked to Tommy, whose face barely made any other emote other than the one where he looked like he was annoyed, staring up at you. A wave of anxiety flooded over you - you were the center of his world right now, and that pressure was too hot!

You quickly climbed down, and flashed him a big smile.

"So?" you asked, now LITERALLY feeling more grounded on the ground.

He didn't respond at first. Moments later, he did.

"Do you have something nice to wear?"

"Like what?"

"A dress?"

"Um," you thought, trying to remember the contents of your Hello Kitty-themed suitcase, "maybe. Why?"

He rose up, getting ready to leave from the fear and insecurity of the emotions he just experienced. "I want to take you to the races."

"We're gonna race?"

"Horses. Horse races," he corrected you, making his way to the exit. "Be ready by tomorrow, I'll collect you before noon."

"Oh my god, like a date?" you were too slow to come to the conclusion because by that time he'd already left. The excitement quickly mixed in with the anxiety, which wasn't the best feeling in the world. You knew in anticipation for tomorrow you were gonna need SOMETHING to take the edge off, so before closing up you snatched some bottles of alcohol to take to your flat. You weren't really sure what exactly they were, but what you did know was that it was gonna taste like fucking ass. But when mama needs her go go juice, she TAKES her go go juice.

The following morning you woke up at the crack ass of dawn to get ready - you knew you needed TIME. Not that it takes a while for you to get all pretty, girl you're already naturally stunning! but time and place - you needed to stunt today. Also, you already weren't a morning person so you didn't trust yourself to snooze. Actually, you barely slept at all last night since you were too caught up about what makeup you were gonna do, how you were gonna style your hair, what dress to wear and most of all, your ass was just asked out by Tommy. You wondered if this is how nervy the soldiers felt when they encountered bin Laden's bunker.

You had already finished your makeup and hair, looking pretty snatched. Too bad your phone's been dead for the past couple of weeks and you couldn't take pictures. But anyway you did the usual 1920's makeup tutorial you remember watching on some Buzzfeed video a while ago, pretending you were doing a Vogue makeup tutorial in your mirror and talking step by step your process. You curled your hair into the 1920's bob they were obsessed with back then, packing on an obscene amount of gel just to keep that wave stiff. You struggled but nonetheless you got it girl.

You were now staring at the remaining contents of your Hello Kitty-themed suitcase - let's just say, you had nothing. That's a lie you did have SOMETHING but was it appropriate for the time? No. Like if you're going to the Renaissance Fair, your ass isn't gonna wear some Skims ass dress. But guess what? That's actually all you had.

It was a black, tight, spaghetti-strap slip-on dress that was above the knee - definitely NOT the vibe for the era, maybe a bit too revealing? But what other choice do you have? You're I <3 Surfer Boys tee? Exaaaaactly.

You slipped it on and was taken aback - you know how you forget how good you look when it's been a while since you've dressed up and you actually surprise yourself? Yeah that was you right now. Kim would be proud to see you in that dress, in fact, she'd probably cheer you on to wear it proudly at the races. Even though she wasn't your favorite sister, you imagining her company right now really did help.

You kept feeling yourself in the mirror - girl you looked GOOD. You put on some black heels, some perfume and that was it - you were simply that bitch now.

"Oh my god," you thought to yourself, "Tommy's gonna flip. Shit, I'd get with me."

And just like that, you heard the honks of a car coming from outside your flat. You peered through the window, and there you saw some vintage, rinky dink ass car.

"Oh, fuck!" you shouted, mainly to yourself, but they heard. "Coming!" you called out the window.

It was actually happening - oh fuck he's here oh yes he is. Quickly, you grabbed one of the bottles you confiscated and took the fattest swig. It was the most horrendous, grotesque warm vodka you've ever consumed. But it would have to do.

You quickly made it downstairs, taking a moment before appearing outside to calm yourself down and make it seem as if you effortlessly just went down some stairs without a care or worry in the world. You made sure to grab a fur coat, faux of course, and your keys.

Down by the car was Tommy in the driver's seat, with his two brothers, Arthur and John, seated in the back. They all looked at you in awe - they had never seen so much of a woman's legs in their entire life.

"Bloody foockin' hell, Tommy! What do we have here?!" Arthur exclaimed.

"Jesus, Tommy," said John, "I didn't think it was bloody possible for you!"

Tommy stared at you for a few seconds longer, a bit taken aback himself.

Tommy ignored his brothers and exited his side, helping you into the passenger's. You got a whiff of his cologne that brought out an animalistic, innate horndogness of you that you remembered to keep in check. Now was not the time but it was admittedly hard cause the man just looked so good.

He climbed back into his side, then started driving off, the cobblestone road causing you to feel even more nauseous than you already did. You didn't realize it, but you were mute for the first ten minutes from how disassociated you were. That vodka was hitting deep and swimming in circles in your empty tummy - you hadn't had breakfast, essentially raw dogging and running on nothing, because you knew if you munched on some Panera bread, you would've thrown it up from the nervousness. You were now really accepting the fact that it was a grave mistake.

"Well, what's wrong with her?" Arthur bellowed, "is her bloody tongue cut off?"

Tommy gave you a quick little side eye, then fully turned to you after realizing you were, indeed, gone.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concerned with a TOUCH of attitude. Or maybe they were both the same you couldn't differentiate it when it came to Tommy.

"Uh, yeah," you cleared your throat and sat up straight, "just really taking in the moment, you know? It's my first race."

Tommy turned back to the road.

"You guys look great!" you complimented, wanting to move on.

"Why thank you, Miss Y/N. I shall wear your kind words like a medal from tha war," said Arthur. "You look like one of them silent film stars!"

You blushed. "So, wanna listen to some music?" you suggested, hating sitting in quiet cars.

Tommy scrunched his brows. "What do you mean?"

You looked down to where the touchscreen on the car WOULD be, forgetting this car was quite literally just a box on wheels with an engine attached. AUX and Bluetooth are not in the vocabulary of these people's brains for another couple more decades.

"Like, carpool karaoke," you suggested.

"What?" John asked.

"Bloody hell is that?" Arthur also asked. You also forgot, these English men wouldn't face the atrocity that is James Corden in ALSO a couple more decades.

Tommy scoffed, a small little smile on his face but nonetheless a smile. He gets it. "Singing. She likes to sing."

"Is that right?" smiled Arthur, "wow, you've really done a number on Tommy boy over here! He's now a fan of the musical arts!"

The two brothers began laughing and smacking Tommy on the shoulders and head in a playful, men-in-a-gang, manner. He smirked.

"I'll start, I have the perfect song - this one's called Off To The Races," you turned to Tommy, "also by Lana."

You two smiled at the little inside joke y'all had going on now. You then started singing, really into it like the night before. You were hitting those "scarlet, starlet" notes a little too good. Once you wrapped up, you left the three men in a silence that lasted for a couple minutes. Except Tommy, he was always silent. But his brothers were a little confused, but decided to just roll with it since you made Tommy happy. You thought they were just floored by your abilities.

"Lovely," John finally said, hesitant and low to break the silence.

"You've got yourself a bloody mental one here, Tommy," said Arthur. Tommy smiled, you were indeed a little unwell but it was okay to him. So was he <3

It had been about an hour after your arrival, you had been helping yourself to a shit ton of food by a table, stocking up like a bear ready for hibernation. You were literally the only one there, and you assumed so because the cigarettes and alcohol these Brits were fucking up were acting as appetite suppressants. Your fat ass wasn't complaining.

Besides being the only one actually eating something of nutritional value, you were getting HEAVY looks and side eyes for your outfit. You didn't care, your ass looked good from all the walking around the pub you've been doing. Upon entering, Tommy noticed the looks to. You whispered in his ear, "it's cause none of these interbred Habsburg jaws know what a real woman a real BITCH looks like 💅."

He didn't get exactly what you meant, but got the vibe and he liked it. He, actually, loved that you were the center of attention here, as you SHOULD be. Afterwards, he told you he had some business to attend to and knowing you were hungry, led you to the food table. He said he'd get you after he was done, and man was taking his time. But again you didn't care you were just munching away.

"Try the scone, darling, it's absolutely dashing!" a rich, socialite said to you. Her costume was just as amazing as everyone else.

"You know, I've been avoiding it but, maybe I will. Why not?" you smiled, grabbing one and taking a chomp. It tasted like actual ass but you have a great poker face. You moaned like Mark Weins, even hitting his crazy facial expressions. "It's great!" you mumbled. She smiled and talked on about something you didn't really pay attention to.

Eventually, Tommy came up behind you and grabbed your arm gently. Had this been any other man, you would've pistol whipped them in the face with the rock of a scone in your hand, but it was Tommy so you just got all the butterflies inside. You turned and smiled, chewing your food and swallowing it almost hole to say something and not just stand there.

"Fhey Tomyif," you mumbled through the dry scone.

"Feeling better, eh?" he said in a low tone. He seem a little more cheery, which made you cheery. He was enjoying himself, as he should. And so were you, as you should. Let's just say, the vibes were good.

"Omg, def," you said, finally swallowing the last bit of food, "you know, you should try eating something. I know you don't do it much, but, I feel like it can be a great experience for you."

He looked into your eyes. He loved that you cared. A soft smile came on his lips.

"Not hungry."

You thought for a minute. "But like, I'm pretty sure you haven't eaten since France."

"Maybe later. Do you dance?"

"Do I dance? With a little spicy marg in me, Tommy, it's over." But alas, the bartender would have no clue what a spicy marg was, so you kinda had to retract your statement, "But no yeah I can dance sober too no biggy."

"Good," he said, grabbing your hand gently and leading you to the crowded dance floor. You turned back to wave at the socialite lady, who gave you a little wink. My girl knew you scored.

All you knew was that the Brits LOVED their Charleston dancing, something that you definitely needed Just Dance to teach you. But she wasn't here. You were frightened at the thought, but when Tommy pulled you in, and you two just started going at it, it was as natural as your BBL ass. That one Pride and Prejudice dancing sequence had you mastered in the art.

With his hand at your waist and the other in your hand, and your other hand around his neck feeling his buzzcut, there was no force on this earth that could stop you. You honestly just moved your legs around and were great.

Up close to him, you were again in touch with his cologne. You needed to control yourself, but it didn't help that he was like three inches from your face. In this sea of people, it just felt like you two and no one else.

As you two were fucking up that dance floor to that 1920s jazz music, you looked around at the other faces of people dancing around you. Some you caught staring, others pretended not to. You smiled at the fact your hot ass was intimidating.

"Man, if I were to do the Woah here, they'd all lose their fucking minds," you thought. "What if I like, just started twerking? No, I can't. I can't let them win." You knew those intrusive thoughts cannot get another W against you again. The last time that happened, you were expelled from theater school. You couldn't, you couldn't embarrass Tommy - but the urge was too strong.

Almost as if Tommy read your mind, he pulled you aside the dance floor.

"I want to introduce you to someone," he said. He then took you to a table where a man with the craziest middle part and mustache sat, beside another who looked like an owl with glasses and other carbon copies of English dudes. At the table was a fuck ton of coins and money, along with drinks and clouds of cigarette smoke from ashtrays.

"Y/N, this is Billy Kimber. He owns the tracks here," Tommy said. Oh my god it's him, its Billy fackin Kimba...

You weren't sure why Tommy would introduce you, but you took it as a compliment. Maybe he just wanted to stunt on this guy? Who knows.

The man with the goofy ass fucking name had a wry grin on his face that you did not like at all. The vibe was not good no more around this guy. He stuck out his hand to you, and you obliged very hesitantly. He grabbed your hand and kissed it. With that a wave of disgust flew over you, feeling as though you've been stained. Ew gross.

"Lovely ta meet ya," the man said. He rose, "Mista Shelby, might I ask your lady for a dance?"

"Oh, no thanks! <3" you said, a welcoming smile on your face. Tommy and Billy both looked at you as if you just said the most out of pocket shit. The owl man and English robots also gave you daring looks.

"Wot?" Kimber spat.

You almost laughed.

"Uh, yeah like, I don't wanna dance." you said, mimicking Tana Mongeau's "a bleach and tone".

Billy saw absolute red. He was livid. He turned to Tommy, who, too, was speechless.

"The fuck are you on about?" Billy spat again. You really weren't sure what he didn't understand.

You then realized - there was no getting out of this. You didn't want to cause a scene, cause you kinda already did. So you again invited those intrusive thoughts.

"Fine," you said, clearing your throat and standing straight. "I'll dance."

You then pretended to throw something in the air, looking up in an anticipatory, worried way. They all looked up too, confused.

"Oh my god, do you see it? Mr. Kimber, where is it?!" you said as if a bomb were to fall.

He looked up and then to you, growing increasingly worried. He was too in shock to speak.

"Where is it?! Where is it?! Do you see it?!" you kept looking up at basically nothing, but you knew it was something. You kept them on their toes, scared at this point. Your feet dancing softly, they were ready for impact. It was time to come down. "There! There it is and -"

With that, you pulled it down and committed the hardest, most nastiest Woah you've ever done. The last time it was that riveting was during middle school lunches.

When you brought that down, the pose you ended on had your head down and body limp, as if you were Aang in the Avatar state during the episode where he was fighting Zuko's papa and had to unlock and harness such force.

You left them taken aback, disoriented. They didn't know what to do or how to react. You looked fucking insane.

You took a deep breath and stood back up straight, satisfied. Once you realized that the room had fallen completely silent, even the musicians, you felt you needed to excuse yourself.

"Um, so," you struggled to find the words. You felt the anxiety creeping up again, the lightheadedness arising. And most of all, it was time for you to empty yourself. "I've, uh," you thought harder and harder - "I'VE GOT AN ITCHY BUM!"

You split, running and running as fast as your pumps could take you. You ran and ran, it was always the most liberating activity honestly. All that dancing with Tommy, the nerves piled up along with the hors d'oeuvres - they lead to this very moment.

You searched round and round, desperately for a bathroom. No where in this bitch was there a sign or indication, and time was running slim. This was some real Mission Impossible, Tom Cruise is on a time crunch, shit. You pushed through crowds of drunk, belligerent and yelling people, feeling your body slowly succumb to the intense body heat.

Eventually, you spotted a familiar face. You ran.

"Arthur!" you yelled. He spun and looked back to you.

"Y/N! What is it?" he asked, worried. You looked a bit wild. "Are you alright? Where's Tommy?"

"He's fine, he's," you thought, "somewhere. Look, it doesn't fucking matter."

"The mouth on you -"

"Where the fuck is the bathroom in this bitch? Huh? The loo? The toilet? The washroom whatever the fuck y'all call it?"

"Well, I was on me way. It's just over there -" he pointed and you bolted.

As you were entering, you literally ran full force into the socialite from earlier. She wasn't angry, just like Arthur, worried.

"You look absolutely GHASTLY darling!"

"Girl move -"

You went into one of the stalls and laid your worst. Thankfully since it was a Skims dress, all you had to do was pull your Victoria Secret thong off and go. You felt bad for the ladies in their dresses and stockings and shit here - convenience was definitely not a factor yet.

After you cleared your business, (and subsequently the whole bathroom), you stepped out of your stall, refreshed and effortless. You washed your hands, fixed your hair and makeup just a bit in the mirror, and felt yourself again. You took mental selfies, since it was all you had.

As you left the bathroom, you heard the grunts and yells of men. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence, but it sounded like some shit was fr going down. You crept to the source of the noise, coming from the men's bathroom. At first, you thought someone was probably constipated, but instead it was Arthur, John and a few others absolutely rocking this guy's shit. They were beating him, cutting him with the razors sewn into their goofy caps, and curb stomping his head into the sink. So sink stomping?

You made a gross face and walked back out. "Yeesh."

After all, it wasn't the first time you were so close to the mob.

You remember your number one golden rule you learned from earlier during your time with Pablo: Hear nothing, see nothing!

After walking past the dance floor again, you were relieved to see that everyone and everything had gone back to normal - people were back to dancing, drinking and chatting - back to the script. You actually forgot this was supposed to be a horse race.

But, there was no Tommy anywhere. You searched and searched, yet you couldn't find that 75% shaved head anywhere.

You then walked back outside by the entrance, where you saw a woman smoking. You went up to her.

"May I bum a smoke?" you asked in your best English accent, trying to speak their language. She turned to you and pulled one out, lighting it for you. "Thank you so much, you look lovely, darling."

The woman smiled. You loved hyping the girls up!

"You too. I must admit, I find your choice in wardrobe absolutely admirable and daring!"

You smiled, "Aww, really?" you quickly corrected your accent, "Oh dear, many thanks, many thanks yes."

You took a hit of that cigarette. Shit was gross. But when in Rome...

You and the woman spoke for some time, deep in conversation. It was refreshing to meet another girl here, safe to just talk shit and have a break from all the drunken men and oh no there's Tommy.

You saw him approaching you and he looked again, upset and emo. It didn't exactly burst your bubble, you really liked Tommy, but were afraid that you possibly embarrassed him in front of the Bilbo Timberland from earlier.

You bided the woman goodbye and walked towards Tommy. He then took you two back to his car and started off onto the road. By now, it was nearing evening. The car ride was pretty silent, you were looking out admiring the brief countryside. Shit was beautiful like a Microsoft Home Screen.

"So, what's wrong?" you asked. "You're like, down in the dumps again. And where are your brothers?"

"They'll find their own way home," Tommy said, low and serious, the usual.

"So is that it? Y'all got into a fight or something?"

He let out a deep breath. "I told Billy Kimber he could have a dance with you."

"Ew, why?"

"Well," he didn't want to say 'business', cause like okayyyyy shout out to 1920's gender roles!, "because you look...nice. You look pretty."

You blushed hard, trying to control your smile. Seeing this side of Tommy was like a sneak peak, it was so exclusive!

"Oh my god, Tommy, are you flirting with me? I didn't even know you had that setting available!"

He smirked, his frown OFFICIALLY being turned upside down. He chucked in disbelief of himself. He was falling.

Once you made it back to the neighborhood, the sun had gone down and the streets were once again pretty dark. Smoky depressing England like what the Smiths wrote about you get the vibe.

Anyway he took you to his flat, saying that he wanted to "show you something". You weren't sure what that something was, it could've honestly been like a dead body but actually it wasn't! It was dinner <3

"I've uh," he started, not crazy about the fact that he was falling for you, "I've prepared dinner."

You gasped and made a very soy ass face. How absolutely gentlemanly of him!

"Oh my god, no you didn't Tommy!" you said, "You're so sweet, that's like, so sweet! You shouldn't have!"

He smiled softly, in a "yeah I did that" sort of way. And he did just that. You were 90% sure whatever was inside he didn't cook, but it's the THOUGHT that counts!

He escorted you inside like the gentlemen he was, shutting the front door behind you two. The lights inside the flat were dim, and by the table were two plates. Upon closer inspection, you were absolutely FLOORED!!!!

"No way - tikka fucking masala?!" you exclaimed. He chuckled and it was hot.

You walked closer and saw two very familiar, VERY FAMILIAR, colorful orbs. You turned them to the side. All this time since you'd last seen one, you forgot what they were or looked like.

"AND FUCKING BUZZBALLS?!?!?!" you said. "Tommy, how the fuck did you even get these?"

He pulled the chair out for you, and you scooted your big fat butt in.

"I know people. It's my job."

You couldn't help but smirk.

"It's so hot when a man has connections," your dirty Jezebel mind thought.

He cracked the BuzzBalls opened and poured them for each of you, like it was some high end expensive ass champagne. You watched him, relishing in the moment - you had your GRIP on this man. Chivalry was in fact, despite popular belief, not dead. But it was also the 1920s so you forgot about that bit.

You looked down at your plate - you were going to fuck. this. up. He'd never seen this side of you - the side that would tear your meal like a fucking ape cracking open a coconut with a rock for water. You thought if you should warn him, but told yourself - he needs to know ME for ME.

You gripped that naan, grabbed a fat ass chunk of that chicken - and the moment it hit your lips, you had started giggling like Mark Weins again but subtract the poker face. You had forgotten the long lost love of spice other than pepper and salt. You could've cried if it hadn't been for the fact your makeup looked too good.

You two dined and wined (there's no wine) for the next hour, talking and talking and chewing and chewing. Seeing him eat was hard for your mind to process, you just never thought he was capable of it. Anyway as he was talking you felt bad because you were zoning out looking at him as if he was another dish of tikka masala. He had such a sigma vibe to him, maybe alpha? (I don't know I'm not familiar with gym bro brain rot TikTok lingo but you get the vibe.) He was just so manly and yet so gentle and calculating, it kinda scared you because like he could literally have everything set up to kill you right now and you wouldn't know cause you were too charmed. But then you realized, he wouldn't have done all this shit for someone he wanted dead. No girl, he just wanted YOU! Your toes tickled at the thought, and those butterflies? They were fluttering.

For the first time, you had anxiety but hadn't felt the need to shit yet. You weren't sure if it was the alcohol calming your nerves, or the chill vintage ambience going on, or Tommy's comfortable/intimidating presence. In other words, this felt natural and you were fucking with it.

There were several times you needed to burp, but forgetting you weren't with your girls, you had to swallow that shit deep. After all, girls don't burp. You tried to keep your femme fatale composure.

You were the light he needed in his very dark emo life. It had been a very long time since he had a genuine laugh, despite the fact he might have had no idea what the fuck you were talking about or saying half the time, but seeing you all bubbly and happy made him feel content. He was finally being vulnerable, letting go a little and just, well, living life. Being free. #livelaughlove

"What will you do? When you've saved enough for Scotland?" he asked.

The idea brought you down a bit. You forgot about that shit. "Oh, well, I don't know. I kinda like the barmaid stuff, so maybe I'll try to find something similar there?"

You were eating his leftovers. He didn't eat much but liked watching you eat like it was a mukbang. He loved a girl who eats.

"Why don't you stay?" he asked, avoiding eye contact with you as he poured himself another BuzzBall. You could tell he wasn't a fan but drank it anyway for you because you liked it.

You again couldn't help but smirk. You loved seeing a guy CRACK!!!

"Do you want me to?" you asked, biting your tongue like the white mom. You hadn't done that in a while either, this English life didn't permit it.

He took a sip from his drink. "Perhaps you'd be interested in working for me."

"Aren't I already, low-key though?"

"Garrison's not mine," he said. "Do you know anything about bookkeeping?"

He lit a cigarette and offered you one. You took it, not wanting to offend.

"Well, I gotta tell you," you said, "math is NOT my forte. But oh my god yes babe thanks!"

You ran over and jumped to hug him, he hugged tightly back, he then threw you on the hard table, pushing everything to the floor and you felt his member pressed against your leg. He began kissing you, his tongue licking your lips for entrance. You let him in. Your tongues fought for dominance but you let him win. He eventually started going down on you, taking your Skims dress clean off, and started kissing your labia.

"This...this is a bloody fucking labia," he says.

You lifted your legs as he began to eat you out, his wet breath on your cooter. He held your foot up and raised himself, ready to press his member into your entrance. Your eyes were closed, ready to take the boy from Birmingham in. This is it. No missed flights, no drunk men to call you Jezebels, no lung cancer from cigarettes and factory smoke, no IRS or IRA, nothing - just you and Tommy.

You and Tommy laid on his bed, in each other's arms. Since his bed was high-key smaller than a twin, it was pretty cramped, but neither of you minded. You two were smoking (him a cigarette and you your Elf bar), reminding you of that one band Cigarettes after Sex and how Tommy would've liked them, but they wouldn't drop music for another couple years in this time zone.

You two talked softly as the rain patterned on the window's glass, some of the street lights peering through the curtain. If there was some incense on, it'd be a vibe. You originally thought his opium pipe was an incense holder but you were very mistaken.

" - so yeah, that's why people picked team Jolie. But in all honesty, I feel bad for Jennifer, you know? Like, he literally cheated on her. Over what? A fucky boof ass movie? It was ass," you hit your Elf bar, refusing to accept it was dead. "I guess it doesn't matter now, cause NONE of them are together anymore. So what do you think? Aniston or Jolie?"

He took a drag of cigarette as he stared at the ceiling. He made an unsure face.

"I'm not familiar with them."

"True. Fine, let me think of something you'd know. Like something English drama," you thought. "Okay, team Blur or team Oasis? I hear there was a lot of blood shed during the battle of Britpop."

He again took another drag of his cigarette. Anyone would be looking at this and thinking he found you hella annoying, but he didn't. He just genuinely thought you had a great imagination.

"Neither, I guess. I don't have time to listen to music."

He was right, which was why he loved when you sang at the pub and most of all, to him during your private Lana concerts.

As time went on, you were in DEEP. Scotland? Yeah never heard of her. Not only were you working for Tommy doing whatever bookkeeping is, but he had even introduced you to his family, which you KNOW damn well is a sign that shit is serious.

You loved the Shelby's, even though they were a bit off their shit sometimes. But it wasn't anything new, you'd been well familiar with crazy families before. You loved talking shit with Polly, going to the 'cinema' with Ada, fucking with Arthur until he got mad, supplying John with his toothpicks and making little Finn believe in the fake number 'derf'. You got along with them well, they saw you as a perfect fit for the family - something different, vibrant and bright! You loved them and they loved you! Polly would even tell you in confidence that you made Tommy a happier person, something he lost after the war. Getting Polly's stamp of approval was literally it, that's all you needed.

And you and Tommy? Yeah y'all were a thing. An item. During work hours he'd give you little looks here and there, and so did you, as if it was some secret office romance. But it wasn't secret literally everyone knew you were his girl. And that's power.

You learned the ropes pretty fast, again it wasn't your first rodeo in the mob. It was like Colombia all over again, but we don't talk about that. Tommy fucked with you having a secretive criminal past, he thought it was pretty hot.

Besides bookkeeping, you still worked in the bar. All the patrons loved when you sang Lana, it just went on to prove that she's indeed a poet. They eventually memorized them and sang along, which annoyed you sometimes cause you just wanted to hear yourself and they sounded like ass when they were drunk. But you just go along with it!

Some of the songs you in the pub (and Tommy's room) sang included:

Bartender (cause hello? You're LITERALLY at a bar)

Shades of Cool (for Tommy's big blue ass eyes (you wished they could hear that guitar solo cause the acapella didn't do it justice :( ))

Cola (singing this for the fist time made you realize you had to censor a couple things, they weren't a fan of that intro)

Stargirl's Interlude (Lana's part obvi, but it's again for Tommy cause he's your starboy <3 he loved when you hit those high notes)

Brooklyn Baby (you avoided it cause it reminded you of your ex)

Video Games (hello it's for Tommy)

Love Song (this makes them all cry)

Money Power Glory (again hello it's Tommy, but this wouldn't hit until he's a member in Parliament)

National Anthem (being in England for so long made you forget the United States anthem)

Fucked My Way Up To The Top (literally you rn)

Speaking OF a bunch of drunk men, the gang loved you. You thought you were like the comedic relief of the little theater thing they had going on here. You had to admit, you admired the method acting everyone had done so far. It only, to you, proved that it worked, since you were GENUINELY left in deep in a psychosis where you're just a 1920's flapper girl.

There was some rules and etiquettes you needed to remember, however. One, was of course, the "BILLY FACKIN KIMBA", and another was you finding out Tommy did NOT fuck with brujeria or anything dark magic related. You thought it was kinda funny, he reminded you of those Reddit r/atheist accounts but at the same time, he was low-key scared of zodiacs. Not that he didn't like it, he was paranoid at them. You literally asked his zodiac sign and he responded very sternly and seriously,

"Y/N, don't."

You then said. "That's a very Capricorn thing to say."

Besides that, everything was great and chill.

It wasn't long before this annoying ass Irish inspector dude pulled up to the pub. Once he saw you, he locked eyes with you and approached the bar. You didn't like his vibe in the slightest. In fact, no one in the pub liked his vibe either. They all fell silent when he entered.

"Excuse, me, ma'am," he said. You turned, not really wanting to talk.

"Yeah, what?"

"Do you know about a Thomas Shelby?"

"Yeah, what about him?" you didn't fuck with anyone who referred to Tommy as Thomas. Like?

"Do you know where I can find him?"

You were really starting to not fuck with his vibe even more. Something was def fishy.

"You should really go back to being with the dinosaurs," you said. He didn't like that.

He leaned in. "Do you know who I am? Who do ya think you arrrrrre?" the R's went very crazy.

And just in time, as if he was your guardian angel, Tommy opened the doors to the little room beside the bar. Babes was hearing everything and he was NOT gonna let this dude talk shit to his girl like that.

"You need to speak to me? Inspector Campbell, is it?" he said. "I've read about you in the papers."

Tommy then took Campbell soup outside to speak. Before leaving, he (Tommy) gave you a wink and you winked back. You knew that was code for 'let's hit my flat later'. Little did you know, this would be the last time.....

P.S. - when you asked one of the men at the pub who he was and someone replied IRA, you originally interpreted that as the Irish IRS and shat yourself. You didn't know how to tell Tommy your time was ticking, they'd located you - but you were not going down without a fight.

You were both in his bedroom as usual, he was lying in bed smoking, you were hitting the Elf bar, rain pattering, English people yelling outside yeah you get the vibe. Anyway, he asked you to sing - a request you took quite seriously. You knew this was his only time of relaxation and you had to make the best of it before you break the news you needed to escape again.

You rose, sitting up and looking down at his BBL face.

"Lana or Nicki?"

"Lana."

"Can I do Nicki? You never ask for her."

He took a drag and nodded. "Go ahead."

This, now this would be where you fucked up. Let's just say, you wish you could wipe out this night from your memory. Alas, all things need to come to an end, even the good ones, unfortunately. You'd never thought it would be like this though tbh.

You stood up on the bed, as usual, cleared your throat all that bullshit. You thought and thought, "what's a good Nicki song? What's fitting?"

And then it hit you - it was definitely a deep cut.

He had a soft smile on his lips, watching you as you were thinking. Little did he know, you were going to harness a part of yourself you hadn't seen in a while. This was a mode you unlocked that was such a release after, and you knew you had to go all or nothing.

You cleared your throat.

"Okay, so this one's kinda not AS well known, but it has British themes I think work well," you prefaced. "Okay, here I go."

The moment you opened your mouth, you let the spirit of Nicki come in. And once she's in, there's no going back. And Tommy was not prepared for that. You then started Nicki's verse in Sean Kingston's "Born To Be Wild".

"♪ If you will die, then why would you try and if you reply, a suit and a tie is what I will buy then you will be mine because you and I were born to be wild, I am Martha you King Arthur who knew you would land me, I’ve been known to eat these rappers, cook em like chef Ramsey - ♪"

You were too deep to notice Tommy's rapid increasing worry and fear as you spat out those lyrics. It was too overstimulating for him to handle. You ate, but that was just want concerned him - he didn't know you were rapping. In fact, no one at this current time did.

" ♪ - Mission accomplished, your my accomplice cover of vogue yeah ima go topless ima go bonkers ima go crazy ima get reckless then have a baby then hang the baby off the balcony teach him to moon walk tell em he's Japanese - ♪ "

No, he thought you were putting a curse on him. No, he was CONVINCED.

"Stop! STOP!" Tommy rose from his bed, pushing the sheets off of him.

You were shaken out of your trance, confused. You became worried, what happened? Did you miss something? Were y'all in danger?

"Wait, Tommy -"

"Enough! Stop!" you had never seen panic in that man's eyes. Never. And you didn't like it. He was looking straight at you, talking to YOU.

"Stop what -"

"You're a bloody fucking witch!" he yelled, rubbing his hand through his hair while the other TIGHT on his hip. This was his evaluating stance. "That's what this is - that's what it's been."

"Uh, Tommy," you said, more annoyed that he interrupted your moment, "I'm no witch. I'm just, well, Y/N."

He took a deep breath, now facing away from you. He couldn't believe it. All this time, all that mumbo jumbo that came out of your mouth, all this time - they were just that. Curses. No wonder he didn't understand them, you were literally speaking in tongues this whole time.

You walked towards him, slowly. This man needed that opium right now.

"Tommy -"

"Leave. LEAVE!" he yelled, grabbing your messy bun, and doing what you didn't think would happen again for a very long time - he beybladed you.

Spin. Spin. Spin.

"LET IT BLOODY RIP!"

And there it was.

And there you went.

He twisted you in the air round and round, ready for a different kind of liftoff. He flung you out the window, you crashed through and onto the cobblestone streets of Birmingham.

That was it. All these months, all this rehearsing - it all came to an end. On a random Tuesday evening? The Tommy you once thought you knew was no more - after all this time, he never trusted you? Didn't he know who you were? Like dude he watched you be vulnerable at fuck up a tikka masala. TWO of them at that.

Anyway, you realized maybe the entirety of UK just wasn't your vibe, anyway. With this 'IRA' now in town, your ass needed to be grass. Before leaving, you broke into his horse racing betting place whatever it's called and committed a little fun heist, taking all the money. What? A girl needed to sustain herself in this economy. Dog eat dog world shit. And plus, all your stuff was back at his apartment and you were DEF not gonna go back. Who knows? Was HE working for the Men In Black? Wining and dining you to gain his trust and he turned you in? Maybe he did you a favor in the end.

And maybe you could upgrade to the latest iPhone when you got to London with all this horse money? With a shilling and a pound, the possibilities seemed endless.

You walked down the streets, sad, but again more confused and a little relieved, onto your next destination, wherever that maybe. Anywhere Y/N went, it was all just a big adventure of a girl having fun being, well, just a girl having fun in this world. And THAT'S all that matters.

Hope you enjoyed!

xoxo,

~Sam St. Clair

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