“(y/n).” You turn around at the sound of Jack’s familiar voice, immediately putting the clothes you were hanging on the clothesline back into their basket.
“Hi, Jack,” you smile. “Romeo, Crutchie.” You nod to each in turn. “What can I do for you?”
Romeo grins and steps closer to you. “The question is: What can I do for you, sweetheart?”
You roll your eyes and reach down, picking up the clothes basket. Then you shove it into the younger boy’s arms. “You can finish hanging these clothes.” The flirt’s smile falls, but yours doesn’t. “Thank you, Romeo.”
Jack and Crutchie snicker as their brother gets to work. “Seriously though, what are you doing here? Boys aren’t allowed here after dark, and it’s nearly dusk.”
“We’s organizing a strike!” Crutchie exclaims, rocking on his good foot as he grins.
Your face falls. “You’re what?”
Jack catches sight of your worried expression, and he taps his friends shoulder. “Hey, Crutch, why don’t you go help Romeo for a second, huh?”
The boy goes without a complaint, and you smile. Crutchie has a heart of gold. Jack pulls you slightly away so you’re just out of earshot of the two other Newsies.
“Pulitzer raised the price of papes,” Jack starts.
“Yeah, I know, I heard,” you reply. “But are you sure this is something to go on Strike for? Did you try to-”
“Reason with him?” Jack finishes for you. “Yeah, we did. Old man wouldn’t even see us. So yes, we’re going on Strike.”
Despite your worry, you nod. “Alright. So why are you here?”
Jack grins. “What, I need to have a reason to see my best girl?”
You blush. “No, but you do need a reason to bring your friends.”
He nods. “Alright, ya got me there.”
You brush your hand against his, but don’t take it. As much as you’d like to. If one of the other girls saw you, you’d be kicked out of the factory’s lodging house and onto the street. “So what is it?”
He takes off his hat like he does when he’s nervous, and blows on his hands. “I need to know you and the other factory girls are with us.”
“I don’t understand.”
“This Strike goes beyond just us newsies. This is about all of us; about all da kids that gotta work for a living too young, and never even got a chance ta do anything else. Especially when their work isn’t even fair.” He takes a step closer. “So, if it comes down to it, I need to know that you’re with us.”
“Well, you know him with you.” You smile, and he smiles back. “And I know some other workers that will be, and that will be able to talk others up. I’ll go around to some other factories too.”
Jack takes your hand, and you let him. “You know you’re amazing, right?”
You smile. “I try.”
“Laundry’s done!” Romeo yells, and Jack lets go of your hand quickly. He and Crutchie walk back up to the both of you. “We got an answer?”
You nod at him. “I’m with you. And I’ll do my best to make sure others are too.”
They all smile. “Let’s go, then! We still gotta go ta Brooklyn,” Crutchie smiles and hobbles quickly back to the main street.
Your eyes widen and you ask: “Brooklyn?”
“Yeah,” Jack breathes, rubbing the back of his neck. “We gotta see what Spot Conlon says.”
“Yay…” Romeo growls, trailing after Crutchie slowly.
You take Jack’s arm. “Brooklyn ain’t a good place, Jack.”
“I know, but luckily the King of Brooklyn and I are buddies. I’ll be fine.”
You sigh. “Alright. Now get going, so you’re home at a good time.”
Romeo grins. “Yes, mom.” Ignoring him, you wrap your arms around yourself as they leave.
“Boys!” They all turn around, and you wave half-heartedly. “Be careful tomorrow.”
A surprise visit from a new friend! I went to take the clothes off my clothesline and found this young skunk searching for seeds underneath the birdfeeders. It checked me out, decided I wasn’t a threat and continued munching
(rights reserved, leave credits * please reblog but not to nsfw 18+)
prompt: we're neighbours/live in the same flat? and it's raining and you've left your clothes out on the line and its CHUCKING it down
Thanks for the prompt! :) It got away from me a bit and ended up twice as long as I planned for it to be, but that’s really not much of a surprise!
It’s just something that I want to do
“For fuck sake, not again!” Lily shouted and aimed a
well-placed kick at her dryer, which had apparently decided to crap out for the fifth time this month, and promptly collapsed to
the ground clutching at her throbbing foot which was probably broken now. It
would be just her luck and it would perfectly top off the shittiest day imaginable.
It had even started off terribly, which most of her shitty
days did not – usually it was the type of awful that crept up on you, the kind
you didn’t see coming, that hid behind a normal, every day morning, and then
hit you quite suddenly and left you reeling. That was what had happened the day
her parents had announced their divorce when she was fifteen. It was even how
she had felt when her sister had sent her that nasty text telling her that she
was no longer welcome in her wedding party because she had disagreed with Petunia’s fiancé. Fucking
No, today had started out terribly. Today, Lily had woken up
late for work for the first time ever, had arrived over an hour late without
even being able to stop for coffee on her way in, and had to listen to her
god-awful cow of an editor berate her
for something which, admittedly, was actually her fault for once.
Warnings: ANGST (You really have to understand the story to get the end)
A/N: Would you look at that? I actually got something ready to post! I do have a second part in the works for this, but don’t expect it to make the angst better. Hope you like it! Let me know what you think!
Funny how he could never remember much else about her, but he remembered her birthday. It wasn’t like Nick, either, to remember a date more than a face. Old Nick prided himself on being able to read people, to pick up on the social nuances and micro expressions that gave so much away. Now, an appointment, an anniversary - those always slipped his mind. But he never forgot a face.
The synth clutched his bag of caps, the fabric threatening to tear beneath the harsh metal of his claw. Normally, he didn’t mind haggling. Myrna gave him a hard time, but the other merchants were friendly enough, and it was nice to get out and about in between cases.
Today, though. Today they’d ask questions he wasn’t sure he wanted to answer.
Gotta hold it together, old man.
The detective clenched what counted for his jaw and shuffled into the marketplace, hands stuffed in the pockets of his trenchcoat, hat pulled low over his brow. Myrna looked up with a menacing glower.
HI!! OH WOW, OH MY GOSH YOUR ART IS SO SO SOSOSOSOSOSO A.M.A.Z.I.N.G!!!! You have incredible talent! oh how i envy you... hahaha uhm this is probably gonna sound REALLY weird but y'know when you draw clothes, HOW DO YOU KNOW WHERE TO PUT CREASES/WRINKLES??? I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO PERFECT THE SKILL FOR SUCH A LONG TIME BUT IT NEVER EVER WORKS!! Sorry if i wasted your time *blushes* BUT YEAH YOUR ART IS GREAT *0*
I am so excited for this!! This is probably my favourite thing I have ever written. Is it possible to be in love with your own work?? Anyway enjoy! :~)
Inuyasha felt his eyelids warm, the morning light dazzling through onto his side of the bed. The sleepy boy now understood why Kagome wanted to trade sides of the bed the week before, the past week had been full of rain and overcast skies but the half demon was not prepared for the blast of light and heat at the crack of dawn. He made two little golden slits just enough to look out of the window. It was a gorgeous day, the sky was a perfect shade of blue and he knew that he had to take advantage of the day. He rolled onto his other side his eye’s now fully open as he watched his beautiful Kagome sleeping soundly. Her chest rose and fell ever so gently and her hair was everywhere. With a gentle touch Inuyasha cautiously removed the hair covering her face. Inuyasha loved to watch her sleep, her face soft and not filled with worry as it usually was. He also noticed that after she stopped talking about ‘tests’ and the need to study that she was a lot more relaxed and not on edge like she was a little over three years ago.
I’m about to ramble on about something completely unrelated to this photo…
If I ever have children
they’ll grow up with a lily pond in the backyard
surrounded by acres of land
and they’ll dry their clothes on clotheslines
and they’ll grow up speaking two languages and learn a third (maybe a fourth)
and they’ll know the value of nature and they’ll learn how to respect it
and how to grow strawberries
and they’ll know their native plants like the back of their hand…
Summary: Tensions rise between you and the wives when they discover your night with Negan. Sherry confides in you with a secret.
Word Count: 1,755
A/N: SO sorry for the delay on this. Writer’s block and being busy with college haven’t been mixing well for me. Masterlist here. Enjoy!
You reached your arm out to the space in the bed next to you. It was cold and empty of course, but that didn’t surprise you. You sat up slowly, stretching your arms into the air and letting out a deep yawn.
You had never expected things to end up like they had last night, but you felt glad that they did. Having a night of passion with Negan made you feel like a totally different person. You certainly felt more relaxed and you really couldn’t have cared less about those feelings for Rick that were slowly resurfacing.
Last night made you feel wanted again…in some strange way. You knew you were just another one of Negan’s wives, but knowing that maybe you were worth more than just a valuable asset to the Saviors was a good feeling.
You would like to think that your first kiss with Cassian was romantic and electric and everything you’d ever dreamed it would be an more—and, in its own special way, you guessed it was—but not in the conventional sense. No flowers. No candles. No soft “I love you” whispered breathlessly between hot and heavy connections.
You were on an undercover mission on Iytis attempting to learn why the Empire had taken sudden control of the tropical planet. For the majority of the time, it had been a relatively easy mission—you and Cassian blended in well, and most people assumed you were a couple on a romantic getaway, so they left you alone well enough. You were able to glean that the Empire had started drilling on one of the planet’s poles, but for what, none of the locals knew. Eventually, though, things started to get rocky.
You had told Cassian that it felt like you were there too long—three weeks was much too long for any normal vacation—but he had bushed it off as you being paranoid, saying that you needed more information before you returned to the Rebel Alliance. Shortly after, you noticed that when the two of you went out, locals followed you at a fair distance. Sometimes, instead of locals, it was stormtroopers following you around, which concerned you greatly.
That’s when the rumors had started to fly around. Supposedly, an entire squadron of rebel spies had infiltrated the planet with the intention of blowing it up, civilians and all. You were flattered that they thought you and Cassian good enough to be considered an entire squadron, but obviously they had your motives completely wrong.
Because the citizens of Iytis were getting nervous, the stormtroopers had started doing random searches. They stopped people in the streets asking for identification papers or barged into homes and businesses to conduct raids looking for the squadron of Rebels. That’s when you and Cassian had been cornered.
You had felt like you were being followed for a while as you and Cassian walked throughout the city, browsing the market and buying some of the local fruit. When you got the opportunity to glance behind you, though, nothing was out of the ordinary, so when you saw an entire unit of troopers headed your way down the street, you and Cassian ducked into an alleyway immediately. You followed your partner as he weaved his way through the city, grabbing pieces of clothing randomly from clotheslines as he went and changing his outerwear; you did the same.
At last you thought you were safe—you were on the opposite side of the city—but the unit of stormtroopers were still coming. They couldn’t still be following you, could they?
“Kiss me,” you suggested, grabbing Cassian’s hand and forcing him to stop moving. He raised an eyebrow inquisitively but said nothing. The stormtroopers were half a block away now. “Don’t give me that look. This is a destination planet. We’ve seen people kissing all over the place. They won’t think anything of it, and they won’t see our faces. Now kiss me.”
Without another word or confirmation from Cassian, you grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him to you, crashing his lips onto yours. He responded just as the stormtroopers got close enough to get a good look at you. His arm snaked around your waist, pulling you in closer to him, while he cupped your face with his other hand. One of your hands had tangled itself in his soft hair. The other rested gently on his chest. To the passing Imperial soldiers, you looked just like any other tourist couple making out on one of the most romantic planets in the galaxy. They passed without incident.
When they had rounded the corner, Cassian pulled away from you and said nothing. You two didn’t speak of that day or the kiss for weeks—until one day, he cornered you in the hallways near the barracks and asked you out officially.
Your last kiss with Cassian was quick and desperate. You cornered him in the hangar just before he took a squadron of rebel fighters into the hands of the Empire on Skarif. You didn’t want him to go, but you knew there was no arguing with him. Cassian loved you, you knew that. But he loved the Rebellion more, and up until now, you had accepted it. Now, though, there was a very high chance that he wasn’t going to come back and you had no choice but to sit back and watch him go.
At first, neither of you said anything. You didn’t know what to say to him. ‘I love you, don’t go’ seemed too cliché and you forbid yourself from saying goodbye. In all your time with Cassian—nearly five years by that point—you refused to say goodbye when you parted ways. Goodbye seemed too permanent. But now… The silence seemed to strangle you as your mind raced through all the possibilities, many of which resulted in you never seeing Cassian again. You could feel your eyes begin to water, but you held it back. You would not cry. Not now.
Seeing you struggling, Cassian pulled you into a tight hug, allowing you to bury your face in his neck while he whispered in your ear. “We will not be gone long, my love,” he said, rubbing your back gently. “As soon as we have the plans, I will return to you.” He pulled away from you just far enough so that he could see your face. “I promise you that I will return.”
It was then that he pulled you back to him, this time, your lips connecting. You clung to him as if you needed him to survive, wrapping your arms around his back and pulling him in to you. Your lips moved together greedily and you savored in the taste of his lips.
“We should be going,” Kaytoo said impatiently from behind you.
You pulled away from Cassian and once again, he enveloped you in a tight hug. His jacket smelled of gasoline and grease and wood and smoke. “I love you.” His voice was soft, his words meant only for you to hear. “I will always love you.” With that, he kissed the top of your head gently and pulled away. Tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, he said, “This will not be goodbye. I promise you.”
“I love you.” You smiled gently at him. “See you when you get back.”
Cassian kissed your forehead one last time and went to Kaytoo’s side. You waved at them as they boarded the ship, continuing long after they had exited the launch bay.
That was the last time you saw either of them alive.
i’m sure that you heard by now; there is no more sun. it rains each night and it is still dark by morning. it is easy to peel the moon from your back when you cannot be burned. i’m sure you understand by now that you have lost your love and she lies instead with pomegranates, on a bed of copper searing to the touch. it is comforting to know that she can’t be burned; the sun will return and we will not be ready. i have dreams of bushes covered in thorns, nettles underfoot, dark nights where the growth turns black and the forest rots. i sleep in a nest of my own making– cloth torn from the clothesline, down from the bird in the branches. the day is dark and my mouth is open, waiting for rain. i stand beneath black leaves and pray for water, watching condensation burn up. she sleeps in the hollow of the oldest tree and the sun glows like a coal under my tongue.